#got stuff to work on but had to do something for the holidays like usual

[dejwrld]

⤷‧₊˚ you + the eldest brother of the kids you babysit = a late night cam show

┊ •° ੈ ⋆° ┊ warning readers discretion is advised — female reader, female anatomy described, female anatomy described, usage of y/n, cam work mentioned, cam boy!dabi, dabi has multiple piercings, fingering, squirting, consensual recording, dabi calls reader a slut and bitch once, mentions of black male, dacryphilia, told in third pov, mdni

a repost from my old account.

Being home from university for winter break was a huge burden for Dabi. Not only did he have to deal with being the black sheep within his family, but he had to set up a quite particular schedule to entertain his ten thousand subscribers on the popular camboy website. He figured to do cam shows when the house was down for bedtime or when he knew no one was home. However, with his family all crowding the traditional Japanese home for the holidays, he’s been abandoning the subscribers that tipped him wonderful just for stroking his cock on camera.

The thing is, Dabi didn’t really need the money. He came from pure old money. It just stroked his ego reading the comments people said about him. From complimenting his toned torso and pecks that were accessorized with a nipple piercing to adoring his Lorum piercing on his pretty cock. It made his ears grow so hot like an excited dog getting ready to play with its owners. He adored the ego stroke of what he did, but his gloomy eyes didn’t light up in excitement seeing his bank account grow. It was as if the money didn’t phase him. He didn’t spend much of the money on himself, usually buying his siblings’ stuff. Which usually was more of him throwing the item at them and mumbling how he remembered they mentioned to him that they needed or wanted it.

He even took it upon himself to give a gift to his younger siblings’ babysitter (Y/N). A beautiful young woman around his age who’s been the family babysitter for years now. Dabi never paid attention to the girl. Giving her a sly wave before slamming his home door to go hang out with his friends. However, it all changed when she went on the annual family trip with them one hot summer.

Perhaps, Dabi should have concluded that something was going to happen when the two were stuck sharing a hotel room due to a hotel mistake. A night that was filled with stealing miniature vodka bottles from the hotel bar when the bartender was occupied led to a breathless night of Dabi taking the pretty babysitter’s virginity. parted ways due to college, Dabi expected the girl to become clingy. Who wouldn’t become clingy to the guy who took their virginity? But she didn’t.

However, Dabi did notice something. He noticed that her skirts got shorter. Her tops got tighter. She always would let her fingertips graze against his hand when they were in the kitchen together. Her eyes even lit up with so much lust when she saw he was home. She was driving him so crazy because he couldn’t read her.

That was until he was in the kitchen munching on the dinner his mother cooked for the family before she and his father went on a date, (Y/N) was sliding her phone across the counter looking at him with such an intense stare. Dabi’s cold glare traveled down to the phone screen and he nearly choked on the rice ball that was in his mouth.

“You should really not use your most common fuckin’ nickname for your account,” (Y/N) chuckle as she looked at him.

Dabi swallowed the food he was chewing and quickly exited the website that once had his profile right on it. He even saw that she had an account on the website, assuming that she was only there to view the content and not do what he does.

“At first, I didn’t believe it. It’s just a coincidence,” (Y/N) explained. “But that piercing gave it all away,” She soon added as her alluring eyes traveled down to his crotch.

“Okay, I stroke my dick for fuckin’ strangers, now what?” Dabi asked as he stepped closer to her. “Going to snitch off to my parents?” His head tilted slightly, challenging the babysitter in front of him.

“Yes.” (Y/N) bluntly admitted.

Dabi’s fist clenched tightly, “Seriously (Y/N)? Don’t be such a bitch.” He uttered.

“Maybe I am one. Your father will be so upset hearing how his son gets an ego stroke by stroking his dick for strangers on the internet,” (Y/N) says as her hands went up to toy with the necklace around Dabi’s neck.

“Well, what do you want for you to keep your mouth shut?” Dabi asked. “Money? Shoes? Another necklace?” He motioned to the diamond pendant necklace around her neck. A gift he gave her for being such a good babysitter for his siblings.

Once that question left Dabi’s lips, he watched as her lips curled into a smirk. Her fingers dragged down his chest in a slow manner as she batted her lashes at him. She stopped at the string of his grey Nike sweats, “I want to be featured on your show.” She says.

“No,” Dabi says. “You’re not being in my show, I never do collabs. I won’t start now because of a brat trying to blackmail me.” He went back to eating, leaving her pouting at him.

“You’re really okay with your parents seeing this? Especially your dad,” She asked.

Dabi throws his hands up in the air in a careless manner. His shoulders shrugging before he’s speaking once again, “Guess he’ll see what he gave me huh?” He chuckled as he placed his plate in the sink and walked by (Y/N).

Her mouth gaped open at his comment before she chased after him like a lost puppy. “Toya, it would bring you so much more money though.” She whines as she follows him up the stairs.

“Why do you want to be on my show anyway?” He asked. “Wouldn’t want to tarnish your innocent image right?”

“Your shows are always filmed neck down, not like anyone would see my face,” (Y/N) blurted out.

As the dark-haired male caught on to what she said, he turned around to face her. His back pressed against his room door eyeing her up and down. He took in the way her plaid skater skirt moved as she switched her weight from one leg to another and the way he could tell she was wearing a push-up bra to show off her perfectly sized breasts. His teeth grazed at his lower lip as he was mentally weighing out the pros and cons of it. For her to notice that he always streamed from the neck down, she must have been a daily viewer.

“Fine. But if you utter any of this to my parents…” His voice trailed off. “I’ll tell them about when Shoto had to go to the emergency room because your irresponsible ass gave him something he’s allergic to.”

“How’d you know that?” She asked, her arms crossed over her chest pushing her chest forward.

Dabi’s eyes traveled down to look at her chest before he gave her a smirk. “I have my ways, now are you ready or not?”

“What? You want to do it now?” (Y/N) questioned.

“I was planning on streaming now that everyone is asleep and I have about an hour before my parents return,” He said before he twisted the doorknob to his door and pushed it open. His head motioned for her to come in. (Y/N) would give him a cheeky smile before skipping into his room like a child going into a toy store. Not knowing that Dabi was about to practically ruin her pretty little cunt for his subscribers.

He didn’t really let anyone in his room, it was his space. He was very protective of his space. The blue neon lights hardly helped with lighting in the room, which Dabi didn’t mind. It added a unique atmosphere and view to the way he stroked his cock for thousands of people online. The walls of his room were decorated with covers of vintage Rolling Stone and Playboy Bunny magazines. In the corner of his room, he had a record player with a neat pile of vinyl records. (Y/N) was expecting anything out from the camera view on his desk that had his multiple computer monitors would be messy, but he took her by shock. She sat on his bed staring around his room while Dabi sat at his desk going to the website.

“I want to finger you,” Dabi bluntly admitted, his eyes never leaving his computer monitor. “I think us having full-blown sex will be too much for my subscribers considering I only do solo content,” He soon explained.

“Don’t you think that’ll be pretty difficult?” (Y/N) questioned. “Your viewers won’t even be able to see it fully,” she huffs crossing her arms over her chest.

Dabi didn’t even have to turn to look at her to know that she was a pouting mess behind him. He logged into his account announcing that he’ll be starting a stream in about three minutes. His ears growing hot seeing the number of people liking his status update despite him just posting it. “Just take off your panties and come sit on my lap.” He said as he pushed himself a little from under his desk.

(Y/N) eyebrows raised at his comment before she stood up. Her hands up her plaid skater skirt she wore to tug down the lace panties she wore. She throws them over her shoulder before going over to Dabi’s lap, comfortably sitting down as if she sat on his lap multiple times before. Dabi’s fingertips traced alongside her thighs as he sat in the large gaming chair. Such a small intimate moment caused a chill to travel down (Y/N)’s spine.

“This still doesn’t solve our problem that they won’t be able to see you fingering me,” (Y/N) argued.

“You never shut up, do you?” Dabi asked, her remarks were causing the boy to grow annoyed.

“Only if you stuff my mouth with something,” She snapped back giving him a smirk.

Dabi chuckles at her comment, leaning over to start the stream. It was a one-minute count down until the stream would be broadcast to the world, “Lay your back to my chest, pull your knees up and place your legs on the armrest of the chair.” He urged. “Or just place your feet on my knees and keep your legs open for the world can see,” Dabi says. “Whatever makes you comfortable.”

(Y/N) glanced at the thirty-second mark on the screen before she does what she was told. Her cunt was now exposed for his subscribers to see, her gold anklet reflected at her on the screen. Looking at herself in such a provocative way turned her on. Despite you could only see from the neck down, it was a wonderful view to both her and Dabi. Her eyes filled with lust and her pussy throbbed to be touched. She could feel Dabi’s breath tickle at her earlobe and seeing his devious smirk caused her to swallow the harsh lump that formed in the middle of her throat.

“Look how good you look,” Dabi whispered in her ear. “You’re probably going to steal the show from me, doll,” He adds before a little tick noise could be heard as the stream was counting down from ten. “Make sure you don’t moan my real name like you did last time I had you like this during that family trip,” His fingers inched slowly and slow in between her plump thighs.

The show was now live for all his subscribers to see. Dabi was about to finger fuck (Y/N) for his subscribers and she couldn’t wait for that to happen. The pretty babysitter felt the harsh slap at her cunt when the countdown had finally hit zero. The tingle her cunt felt at the sudden slap caused her to be soaked. Dabi’s fingers swiped at her puffy lips collecting her wetness and she could feel his teeth nibbling at the bridge of her ear. “I slapped that cunt of yours and you grew so fuckin’ wet. You like it when I do that?”

“Yes,” Her words stumble out in an intoxicating way. “Please touch me some more,”

The pad of Dabi’s index and middle finger rubbed at her sensitive bud in a circular motion. The tipping notification was blowing up on his profile, but he ignored it. He wanted to see her fucked out just by his fingers. “Like this, doll?” Dabi questioned.

“Or like this?” His two fingers entered her sopping entrance without a warning.

(Y/N)’s mouth gasped open at the sudden action. Her hands grabbed at Dabi’s wrist. “Like that,” She cooed. Her eyes fluttered closed as if she was put into a trance.

“You’re so fuckin’ wet all for me, may have to fuck you until you’re seeing stars after this,” Dabi commented as he begin to move his two fingers inside of her. Her wetness pooled into his lap staining the grey sweatpants he wore.

The audience was loving every second of what was going on as the comments were moving so quickly that Dabi couldn’t even read them. His mind was making sure that (Y/N) felt the wrath of her silly con of trying to blackmail him. His fingers thrust inside her at a pace just like she liked him. A pace she was familiar with when the two shared a moment together during the Todoroki family trip.

“Fuck—” (Y/N) stuttered out as her back pressed against Dabi’s toned chest. Her head fell back as her eyes lolled in the back of her head. The pleasurable feeling of Dabi’s slender digits stuffing her pretty cunt caused her to quiver. Her eyes watered as if she was enduring so much pain, but just she was just enduring the intoxicating pleasure of Dabi fingering her.

“Look at them pretty lil tears.” Dabi cooed in her ear as his finger tugged out of her wet pussy. His fingers were coated with her slick as he rubbed at her clit once again. “I just fingered you and you’re already cryin’ out like a desperate lil slut.”

“Screw you.” (Y/N) spat at him as she was panting, her hips bucked upon his wet fingers for more friction upon her throbbing cunt.

“You’re telling me this as you’re bucking against my hand like a poor little wolf in heat.” Dabi slapped at her cunt once again before his fingers disappeared into her pussy again.

The only sound that bounced off Dabi’s room walls were the moans that tumbled off (Y/N)’s lips and the pornographic sound of Dabi’s fingers aggressively thrusting inside her cunt. At this point, the young babysitter soaked Dabi’s lap as she could feel her orgasm pooling at the pit of her stomach. Her back arching slightly off his lap just for his hand that wasn’t buried in between her thighs to push her back from not leaning forward to expose her face to his viewers.

“If you’re going to cum on my fingers go ahead,” Dabi urged as his fingers still were inside her. “I want to feel your pussy pulse around my fingers anyway,” He adds.

Dabi’s inebriating words only was responded with a string of moans. His free hand reached over to rub at her clit. The beautiful sight of (Y/N) on his monitor had Dabi rock hard under his sweatpants that were currently soaked. (Y/N) had reached to slowly Dabi’s hand but he moved it out the way as if she was being disobedient.

“Just let it all doll, I know you want to,” Dabi assured as his thumb flickered at the sensitive bud once again.

It was as if he had her in a trance because once those words fell off his tongue, (Y/N) let it all out. Her walls fluttered around his fingers as if it was his own thick cock. But that didn’t stop Dabi. His fingers still thrust inside her tight cunt, lunging through the overpowering orgasm she was currently enduring.

“Dabi, that’s too much” (Y/N) cried out as her tears decorated her lashline, causing the once-black mascara she wore to smudge and stain her face.

“Shhhh…I said let it all out, didn’t I?” Dabi questioned as his lips kissed at the side of her temple sweetly. His fingers still pounced forward until the gush of liquid escaped from her cunt. Dabi could feel it staining his pants, his wooden floors right below him, and even his desk.

The sight of seeing the way (Y/N)’s toes curled as his fingers removed themselves before he’s back massaging her clit. She was a wet quivering mess in his lap as the tipping notification on his profile was going off like crazy.

“Don’t ever think about blackmailing again, okay?” Dabi whispered into her ear before he eventually ended his stream.

(Y/N) couldn’t feel the lower half of her body, her brain felt like a frozen Windows tab on a computer, and she felt so exhausted. As she sat on Dabi’s lap, she could feel the same fingers that once were inside her tracing alongside her thighs that still were shaking just a bit.

“You need to get up and go shower before my parents come back” Dabi interjected her thoughts.

“Yeah, you’re right.” was the only words that could come out of (Y/N)’s mouth as she climbed off his lap. Her face felt so hot when she saw the wet spot on Dabi’s pants.

“It’s just a pair of sweatpants,” He responded as he began to clean the mess (Y/N) made.

When the stream ended, Dabi and (Y/N) were in the living room watching television. Sitting in silence trying to gather up all the thoughts of the intimate moment the two shared. He heard her phone ring, expecting it was his parents notifying her that they were a couple of minutes away from the house and it was okay to leave now if she’d like. But instead, he watched as her teeth bit down on her lower lip.

“Connor, you left me on read for three days and now you want to respond because I got finger fucked on camera! Fuck you!”

At that moment Dabi realized that (Y/N) didn’t care to blackmail him and use him being a cam boy against him. She used it for her own gain. To make her boyfriend jealous.

“How’d he know it was you?” Dabi questioned as his eyes tore from the television to look at her.

(Y/N) threw her feet in Dabi’s lap, lifting her left leg shaking her leg slightly so the gold anklet that had a ‘C’ pendant would be in his view. “This. He gave it to me last Monday for our four-month anniversary, just for him to cheat two days after that. I sent him the link to your profile before I even approached you about the whole blackmailing thing.” She said with confidence in her voice.

“You’re fuckin’ insane.” He added.

“I know.” (Y/N) says as she smiled at the dark-haired male.

Silence once again overcame the duo as they went back to watching tv, but Dabi broke the silence with a quickness.

“Do you want to do another stream together?”

#mha smut #mha x reader #dabi x reader #dabi smut #toya todoroki x reader #touya todoroki smut #anime smut #anime x reader #my hero academia x reader #⊹˳⁺ ♡ 𝒻𝒶𝓃𝒻𝒾𝒸𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃 𝒸𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃𝓈

[skzstannie]

“What about Ben?”

SKZ-> ot8 x 9th member fem! reader

genre: angst, hurt/comfort wc: ~4,800 cw: reader has a panic attack and depression, Ben is ur lil bro

summary: your mom isn’t happy about your absence at your brother’s birthday party, but she takes her anger a step too far this time

A/N: Happy New Year everyone! I hope everyone has a blessed 2024! Part 2s for both the Felix and the Han fic are underway, so send me an ask if you’d like to be added to the tag list for either of them!

Happy Scrolling! | Masterlist

"Mom, you know I can't just up and leave! What are you expecting me to do?"

You find yourself having the same conversation with your parents time and time again- they want you to come home, you can't come home, then they give you the silent treatment for a period of time until they want you to come home for something else.

It's mentally exhausting, having to deal with their constant negative remarks towards you job. You only do it for your little brother; him growing up without you is not in the cards for you. In fact, that's what this argument you're having with your mom is about this time.

"I expect you to put your family first for once in your life!" your mother yells back. You flinch, pulling the phone away from your ear.

"Mom, you know I wouldn't miss Ben's birthday unless I absolutely have to. I want to be there for him, I really do!" your words do little to convince her as she already has her mind made up about the type of person you are.

"This has happened one too many times. Missing the occasional family gathering is one thing, but it’s your brother's birthday." Her disgust easily wafts through the speaker of your phone, and you bite your lip to keep from absolutely lashing out at her.

Your parents were never understanding of your job. They always expected you to just pack up your bags and fly home for the smallest of things.

Your baby cousin said her first words? "Why aren't you here?"

Your little brother lost another tooth? "Why would you want to miss this important milestone?"

Your grandma got a new dog? "What kind of heartless person denies their grandparents?"

Over and over, you've been criticized for your job. You give them the same explanation each time, as it's the truth.

"I'm sorry, Mom. I want to be there; I really really do. It's just that-"

"Always with the excuses. Ya know what? I'm tired of the excuses," she pauses and your breath hitches in your throat.

"Ma?" your voice is choked up, and you find your lip wobbling from where it's pulled between your mouth.

Your mother sighs, her disappointment evident. "We're done with the excuses, Y/N. If you can't be here for us, I don't think this is going to work out."

You swear your heart stops upon hearing her words. "What do you mean?" the laugh you let out is far from humorous. It's desperate. "How could it not work out? I'm your daughter, there's nothing to work out. You're supposed to love me and care for me, unconditionally."

"You've crossed the line too many times. Don't try to spin this around and make me the bad guy. This is completely your fault, you and those stupid boys."

Your parents could talk trash about you all they want, but you never let them get away with saying stuff about your boys. "You can belittle me, argue with me, call me every name in your book, but I will not let you talk about the guys like that. They're my family, too," your almost able to catch yourself, but you realize your mistake far too late.

"Oh, yea? Well, if those guys are your family, why not spend the rest of your time with them, too. It’s not like you weren’t already planning to anyway. Spend your holidays with them, your birthdays with them. He’ll, what do you even need us for?”

Tears well in your eyes, a mix of anger and fear swelling deep in your gut. "Mom, you know that's not what I meant." You’re completely choked up, your words coming out just above a whisper in volume.

You've had fights, but they never go as far as this. Usually, your mom would've hung up by now, leaving you with nothing but radio silence for months on end.

As toxic as this is, she's your mom. You couldn't live this life without her. She's toxic now, using your vulnerability against you every chance she gets, but she wasn't always that way.

She was once a loving mother, one who packed your lunch every morning for school, sending you off with a kiss on your cheek. A mom who'd pay extra to get more of your school pictures so she could put them on her desk at work and in her car. She used to show her love for you as any mother does, but you havent felt that in so long.

The last time you were home was a little over two months ago, and not once did she hug you, kiss you, or even touch you. She was cold and emotionless towards you.

You should've seen it coming. All this tension building up for months on end, it was going to have to bottom out eventually.

As much as the above is true, the words that flew out her mouth next shocked you beyond belief, causing the tears to flow freely from your waterline.

"Don't come back home, Y/N. I'm serious. You've done too much damage to my family." There’s a beeping on the other end of the phone, and it drops from your shaking hand to the carpeted floor beneath you.

Don't come back?

You were always sorry, apology after apology leaving your lips when you had to miss something your family organized. You thought it'd be okay. Your mom would get over herself eventually, and you'd come home when the company allowed you to.

You pick up the phone, hands a trembling mess, and call back, praying for another chance to explain yourself. You’re met with an automated message, the robotic voice piercing your ear.

"I'm sorry, this customer is unavailable."

You hang up and call again. She wouldn't have blocked you. It was just a silly fight, right?

"I'm sorry, this customer is-" you hang up before the message finishes, throwing your phone onto the floor next to you.

Your sobs become audible, and your body crumbles onto the floor, your knees thankful for the soft surface the carpet provides. Your fingers claw at the skin around your eyes, looking for a relief from the emotional pain coursing through your body.

Red lines mark your face, leaving the areas tender and puffy.

Your heart constricts in betrayal.

How could she?

She raised you, gave birth to you. How was it so easy for her?

The thought of your little brother enters your jumbled thoughts, and your heart breaks further.

He’s only six years old, and he is the best little brother you could ever ask for. He loves with all his heart, and you are lucky enough to get to experience it, to be apart of that little circle he could wrap his arms around and squeeze with all his might.

The thought of never squishing his chubby cheeks again destroys you, and you're unable to express the amount of heartache you're feeling.

So you scream.

You scream loud, your emotions ripping through your throat like shards of glass through skin.

You’re too distraught to notice the door to your bedroom whipping open. Chan and Minho stand there in the doorway, their eyes wide and mouths agape.

They've never seen you like this before. They've never seen anybody like this before, actually. Your screams are manic as they bounce off the walls around you, echoing around the room.

Once their shock dies off, they rush over to you. Minho is gentle in his grip but firm as he pries your hands away from your face. He gasps when he sees the damage your nails have already done, your once soft features now blotchy with angry red streaks.

You continue to scream, your nails now digging into Minho's arm. Chan grabs you from behind, doing his best to soothe you out of your hysteria.

"Y/N, you have to calm down. Please, it's ok, shhh," he says, his hold around you tight in an attempt to give you some sense of security.

"What happened? Can you talk to us?" you ignore Minho.

They accept that you're too worked up too answer them, and they let you finish your episode, the two of them doing everything they can to try and soothe you.

The rest of the guys in the dorm stand in the doorway now, your cries too agonizing for them to ignore. Varying degrees of shock are spread across their faces as they watch.

Chan starts to mumble sweet words to you as you come out of your panic attack, your brain finally able to register your surroundings again.

“It hurts,” you whimper, chest aching. “It’s so hard to breathe.”

"It's ok, we're here," he repeats, his head pressed up against the side of yours.

"Tell us five things you can see right now," Minho says from beside you, his grip still tight around your sweaty hands.

Your voice is scratchy, your throat red and scarred from your screams, but you oblige, knowing this will help you ground yourself. "I see my alarm clock," your eyes scan your room, landing on the bright digital clock you have sitting on your bedside table.

"Good," he hums, "What else?"

Your eyes travel to the door and you see the scared faces of the rest of your members. You lock in on Felix, his hands clenched tightly in front of him as salty tears stream down his face.

"I see Felix," you whisper, the pain from your throat becoming more and more noticeable.

He nods his head. "Good, now three more things. What else do you see?"

You look to your opened closet, your eyes catching the way your clothes spill out of your messy dresser onto your floor. "I see my favorite hoodie. I see my curtains, and I see that stain on my wall."

"Perfect, Y/N. Take a few deep breaths now." You breathe with Minho, your erratic breaths eventually matching his steady ones.

Finally calmed down enough, you slump back into Chan's hold, completely exhausted from the panic attack.

The room is silent for a moment, all the guys letting you have a second to gather your bearings.

"What happened?" Changbin steps through the rest of the members, settling next to the three of you on the floor. The rest follow suit, some sitting on your bed and some sitting beside Changbin.

"It's my mom again. I don't even know, I think she like, kicked me out? Like, kicked me out of the family?" You're almost embarrassed to explain the situation. You don't know why, maybe in fear your members will think your mom's right. That maybe you have been missing too many family functions, and that you should’ve made more time for them.

"Y/N, that's awful," hums of agreeance come throughout the room, and Hyunjin's words help to reassure you. "You don't deserve that, not one bit."

"She's completely out of line. Nothing you did warranted this at all," Seungmin chimes in. He knows thoughts of uncertainty are swirling through your head, the gaslighting from your mother turning your thoughts to mush.

"What about Ben?"

"What about him? You know your mom's full of shit, and the minute you show up at her doorstep she'll welcome you in. She's bluffing," Changbin pipes up again, his shoulders tight with anger.

"I don't think she is this time."

~ ~ ~

It's another day, and you've spent it the exact same way you spent the last five- curled up in your bed with the lights off, mindlessly scrolling through your phone.

Chan's come in to check on you periodically, but you’ve been alone for the most part.

The knock at your door alerts you from your sleepy state, and you call them in.

“Hey, I brought you some soup. Minho made it earlier today, and I figured you might be hungry,” Chan says, giving you a timid smile.

“Thanks, Chan, but I’m not really hungry right now. Can you just set it there?” You point to the little table you have at the end of your bed, “I’ll eat it later, I promise.”

Your phone starts to ring, and you gasp when you see who’s calling.

Dad

You pick up immediately, and you’re met with the distant yells of your parents. Confused, you ask, “Hello, Dad?”

“Sissy,” comes through. It’s Ben. His voice is small, and fear seeps through the speaker.

“Buddy, what’s wrong?” You keep your tears at bay, knowing you need to be strong for him. Chan sits down beside you when he hears the little voice you’re talking to, and he rubs your back in comfort.

“Mom and Dad are fighting again,” he sniffles, the microphone personifying every bit of his sadness. “I miss you, Sissy.”

“I miss you, more, buddy, but I don't think we're gonna be able to see each other for a while," you choke back sobs.

“But I miss you so much,” he’s crying harder now, and it’s hard to hold yourself together knowing he’s struggling like he is.

“I know, buddy, I know. I’m so sorry I missed your birthday, I couldn’t get a day off work,” you explain. Chan brings his finger up to your cheek, catching your tear before it’s able to fall from your cheek.

You hear Ben gasp, and your heart beat picks up. “Ben, is everything ok? What happened?”

“Mommy’s coming, and I have to go. She told me I couldn’t talk to you, but I stole Dad’s phone. Love you, sissy,” and he’s gone before you can even say it back.

Chan eventually leaves your side upon your request to be alone for a while. The soup beside your bed grows cold as your sadness overwhelms you once again.

~ ~ ~ "Alright, rise and shine!" you're awoken from your slumber by the bright light shining in from your window. You groan, throwing your pillow over your head to block the light. Your curtains hadn’t been opened in weeks, and you were planning on keeping it that way for as long as possible.

"Nope," the intruder says, ripping the pillow from off your face.

"We've allowed you to wallow in this room long enough. If we're not performing or doing an interview, you're laying in the dark in bed." Your eyes open, crusty and sore from the crying you did before falling asleep the night before.

Hyunjin's face paints your irises, his features full of determination.

"Time to get up." He throws your pillow back on the bed beside you, turning to walk out your door. "Oh, and pack a bag, we're flying somewhere today."

You shoot up in bed at that. "Nothing's on the schedule for today, so where are we going?”

‘Is it something I can get out of?’ is what you really want to say, but you keep it to yourself.

"It’s a surprise. Get up and get dressed, we leave in an hour," he finishes, closing the door behind him.

You slide out of bed, your limbs dragging your covers onto the floor. You don't bother picking them up, too tired to care about the messy appearance of your room.

You quickly get ready, throwing on a comfortable pair of sweatpants and a hoodie. You pull your hair up into a ponytail, attempting to hide the grease that's accumulated over the past few days.

The ride to the airport is quiet and relatively peaceful. Everyone's happy to see you up and moving again, but the facade you've been putting on for the public has been washed away in your tired state, leaving your features drowsy. The dark circles under your eyes are prominent, your cheekbones sticking out more than usual. Your hair’s thinned a little, and your lips are cracked from your lack of hydration.

Through security and the rest of the way through the airport, you grip Jisung's arm, both of you needing the other's support in the overcrowded building.

Chan had explained to you that the managers wanted to start filming for the next SKZ Code a day early, fearing it might take longer than expected.

When you see the television next to your boarding terminal, your eyes practically bug out of your head.

Why would you be filming the next SKZ Code in your hometown?

That's the last place you want to go, your fight with your mom still fresh in your mind. You've been feeling the affects of it, her harsh words and actions sending you deep into a depressive episode.

Your members have noticed, trying their best to pull you from it, but nothing they did seem to work.

They can't begin to sympathize with you, none of them ever experiencing the kind of hurt you feel deep in your heart, wreaking havoc on your sanity. All they can do is offer you words of encouragement and love, assuring you that you still have a family, a very real one. While the nine of you may not be related by blood, the bond between all of you is strong.

They decided to take their efforts one step further, however, after seeing you begin to spiral. Your naps became longer and more frequent, often taking up most of the time you were supposed to be awake. You had been neglecting your self care routine, not even having enough energy to shower and brush your teeth most days.

Chan decided that enough is enough, so he convinced the managers to book you all a flight to your hometown to try and reconcile your family. As much as they wanted your mom out of your life, you were much more sane with her in it, and you needed your dad and your brother.

~ ~ ~

The flight was a success, everything going perfectly smooth.

You're now squished into the backseat of a car on the way to the house you'll all be staying at for the remainder of the filming.

The first thing you notice when pulling up into the driveway is how beautiful the house is. The front yard has the most angelic archways leading up to the house, with flowers lining the sidewalk and little statues spread about.

The house itself is amazing. Tall glass windows cover most of the front, the sunlight easily shining through, lighting up the front room.

The five of you- Hyunjin, Jisung, Felix, I.N, and yourself- make your way into the house, and all of your previous worries disappear at the sight of the incredible interior. The walls are lined with expensive looking art, chandeliers hang from the tall ceilings, and the floors are marbled with white and gray.

Chan, Lee Know, Changbin, and Seungmin went to the store in the other van. They said they needed to pick up some last minute essentials for your stay.

Little did you know, they were actually going to your parents house. Their hopes were to get your mother to forgive you, or at least be civil so you could have a conversation with her.

Unfortunately, their visit did not go as planned, and it ended with your mother threatening to call the cops on them if they didn't leave the property immediately. This, of course, did not deter Lee Know from giving her a piece of his mind. His outburst was in Korean, and the insults he threw at her were so quick she'd never be able to recall them to look them up in a translator.

As much as they wanted to stay, to defend you and help you get your family back, they knew they couldn't. Getting law enforcement involved was the last thing they needed, knowing their managers would immediately regret sending them on this short getaway.

So, with that, they went back to the house with anger embedded in their hearts. They didn't want to have to tell you the real reason you all came here. They didn't know how you would react. Would you be thankful they tried to help? Would you feel betrayed that they'd went to your home without permission? They didn't know, but it was time to face the music; there was no SKZ Code to film, and they had no shopping bags in hand, so the truth was going to have to come out.

"Y/N," Chan sighs as he plops down next to you on the couch. You're both seated in the sunroom, looking out at the lake that sits in the backyard.

He gets your attention, and you slide your phone in your hoodie pocket, turning your body to face him. "What's up?"

He hates that he has to be the one to bring up your family again. You look so peaceful, your face no longer contorted with sorrow and pain like it'd been for weeks now, but he knows he has to tell you. It’s only fair to you. "So, please don't get mad, but this whole thing may or may not have been just a setup for you to see your family again."

Your heart beats out of your chest at the mention of seeing your family again. "Really, when can we go?" Your excitement radiates off of you, and you quickly stand to your feet.

Chan grabs ahold of your sleeve and gently guides you back down next to him, his eyes filled with pity. "Well, when we said we were going shopping earlier, we actually went to your house," he pauses, his eyes scanning your features; your face is blank, the excitement from seconds ago long gone. "Your mom wasn't exactly appreciative of our presence, and she kicked us out. Said she'd call the cops if we didn't leave. I'm so sorry, Y/N."

Your mind whirls with the information Chan just threw at you. "So, all of this," you gesture to your surroundings, "was for me? There's no SKZ Code?"

He shakes his head, his hand coming to rest on your arm, "No SKZ Code."

"And my mom still doesn't want to see me?"

He shakes his head again, slower this time. "I'm so sorry for doing this to you. I thought she'd be more open to talk to you, to us, but she wasn't. If I'd have known it'd end this way, I would've never done all this."

You sit there in silence, your gaze downcast. There's no sadness or anger in your heart, no tears welling up in your eyes. You expelled all the emotions you could over the past few weeks, and you've left yourself with nothing.

You stand, your only desire to go lay down on the plushy bed you found in one of the bedrooms when you were exploring earlier. As you walk away from Chan, he stops you.

"Where are you going?"

"To sleep."

"Are you sure that's a good idea? I can come with you?"

"No thank you, I'll be fine," your voice is robotic as you decline his offer. You make your way to the room, climbing up the stairs to the second floor.

You're out like a light as soon as your head hits the feathery pillow, the day’s events catching up to you all at once.

~ ~ ~

You're rudely awoken by the sound of your phone ringing. You pull it out from your pocket, your eyes squinting at the brightness.

Your eyes widen at the contact name that appears on the screen.

Dad

You quickly press the answer button, scared if you wait too long the opportunity will disappear quicker than it showed up.

Your dad had always been a follower. He's the youngest of four siblings, so it was instinctual for him to do what they did. When he married your mom, he had been the same way. Whatever your mom said went.

Your dad loved you and your brother so much, with all his heart, but when your mom started to act up, he became distant. He was never mean to you; he just stopped calling one day, stopped texting. You knew it was because of your mom; a part of you thought he was scared of her.

The last few times you'd gone home, the tension between them was almost unbearable, but your dad always rolled with it. Essentially, he was your mom's very own punching bag. You felt bad for him, but only he had the power to do something about it. You certainly didn't want to say anything. You were already walking on eggshells with her, the last thing you wanted to do was upset her more.

You bring the phone up to your ear, a shaky 'Hello?' leaving your overly chapped lips.

"Hi, sweetie. It's Dad," his voice is as shaky as yours, and he sounds choked up.

"Dad, what's wrong?"

"I can't do it anymore, Y/N. I cannot listen to her and let her treat you this way anymore."

Your heart breaks for him. All throughout your childhood they had been a happily married couple. The love they had for each other was immense.

"I'm getting a divorce, and I'm taking your brother with me."

Your heart is so conflicted. On one hand, this is the greatest news you've ever heard. You'll get your dad and brother back! On the other hand, you'd never wish divorce on anyone. While this experience would not be exceptionally hard for you, given your nonexistent relationship with your mom and the fact that you don't even live at home, it would certainly be hard for the people you love.

"After your band mates came and tried to talk some sense into your mother, it made me realize how blind I've been these past few years. She’s been so mean and cruel to you, and I just sat by and watched."

You don't know how your little brother will take it. Your mom has spoiled him with everything under the sun. This will surely devastate him.

Your dad, too, this can't be easy for him. You know it's not easy for him from the quiet sobs you hear on the other side of the phone.

You're not sure what to say as he continues to cry. "Dad-"

"Honey, please forgive me," he pleads, his voice cracking. "I've let your mom walk all over us for years now, and I'm so sorry."

"Dad, it's ok. It's not your fault."

He's quiet for a moment. "I have Ben at Grandma's house now. Can you come? He's crying so hard. It wasn't easy to leave, your mom put up a fight and was screaming. I think it scared him a bit."

"Yes, Dad, I will be there as soon as possible. I'm leaving now. Can you send me the address so I can give it to the driver?"

He sends the address and you hang up, promising you'll see him in just a few minutes.

You hurriedly put your shoes on and run down the stairs. All your members are sat in the living room, some video game lighting up the television.

"My dad’s getting a divorce, and he has my brother at my grandma's right now. I have to go see them," you quickly ramble out, looking in your purse to make sure you have everything.

The guys are stunned at your demeanor. They haven't seen you move with such determination in weeks.

"I'm coming with you," Chan says matter-of-factly, standing from the sofa to put his shoes on.

"Chan, you don't have-"

"I want to. I just want to make sure everything's alright," he sighs at the look you give him, your eyes boring into his. "I'll even stay in the car."

You roll your eyes at that, but you don't fight him. You suppose it doesn't really matter if he's there; you just want to see your family again.

~ ~ ~

One short car ride later and you're jumping out of the car, the seatbelt flinging back against the door. Your brother waits for you on the porch, the biggest smile gracing his lips.

You sprint at him, swinging him off his feet and embracing him tightly. "I've missed you sissy!" he cheers, his little arms wound tight around your neck. His tears have dried since your phone call with your dad, leaving little streaks down his cheeks.

"I've missed you more, Bubby," you tell him, thankful to have him in your arms again. Your eyes crinkle as your mouth splits into the biggest smile.

Your dad comes outside upon your arrival and wraps the two of you in a hug, giving you a tight squeeze. His eyes meet Chan's over your shoulder, who decided to step just outside of the car.

'Thank you,' your dad mouths to Chan, giving him a grateful smile.

‘Thank you’ for what? Chan wasn’t exactly sure. Bringing you to him? He’d do it a million times over. Taking care of you? He’d never let you struggle without him by your side.

Chan gives him a thumbs up in reply, just happy to see you happy again.

#stray kids #skz #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #skz oneshots #stray kids imagines #stray kids oneshot #skz imagines #stray kids angst #skz angst #bang chan #lee know #changbin #hyunjin #han jisung #lee felix #seungmin #i.n #skz hurt/comfort #skz ot8 #stray kids ot8 #ot8 x reader #hurt/comfort #stray kids 9th member #skz 9th member #stray kids ninth member #skz ninth member

[unholyhelbig]

the oversight part 5? i love that series!

Title: The Oversight [Part 5/7]

Ship: Female!Reader x Natasha Romanoff

Wordcount: 7589

Warnings: Blood, guns, general violence, empty threats, angst, and horrible grammar.

[A/n: Listen, I straight up just finished watching 'The Iron Claw' and if you value your ability to hold it together, I suggest not seeing it. But also... go see it because it's phenomenal. Oh, and Happy Holidays!, like with most things, I regret my direction on this.]

[ Part one | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Part Seven ]

Main Masterlist | Read my stuff on AO3 | Leave Requests

Softly, you denied the small wooden bowl that was passed person to person, filled with numbers scribbled haplessly on strips of paper. There was a pit of guilt in your stomach for not bringing a white elephant gift- but as the honorary plus one of Darcy Lewis you succumbed to your fate. She’d drawn a middle grade number and sidled up next to you with her third vodka tonic.

You took a swallow of your own cranberry flavored drink, something that masked the sharp taste of alcohol. You were feeling fuzzy, but in the light way that would assure you’d get through the rest of party and the competitive game of gift swapping.

“Thanks for doing this,” Darcy said to you, nudging your shoulder “it was a little too fancy for my liking.”

She had stressed that she needed your presence to get through all the small talk about science. Darcy was an expert engineer but she could only go so far when it came to awkward co-workers murmuring amongst the twinkling Christmas lights and pre-paid meals. She got along well with most, but you could sense her anxiety well.

“Of course, you know I’d never turn down smoked salmon.”

Truthfully, it sounded a lot better than what your own work was planning. It took some quiet background checks and calling babysitting references, but you eventually conceded to a teenage girl that was certified in CPR and didn’t charge interest.

Your own holiday celebration at the Diner had been lackluster and consisted of much more alcohol. This was quiet and subdued, and a welcome break from the usual chaos that surrounded your life. You were more than happy to watch people tear paper from candles and blankets and ornaments.

“How much money do you want to put on Jimmy bringing some sort of magic kit?”

You hadn’t noticed the girl that hugged the side of the bar, waving down the bartender wordlessly. She was drinking something sweet and garnished with orange. She had a beautiful smile and the clearest eyes you had ever seen. Darcy smiled at her with familiarity and it eased you.

“I don’t bet on things I’m going to lose.” Darcy said with finality. “Y/n, this is Monica Rambeau.”

“It’s nice to meet you,”

Her grip was firm, and you squeezed her hand back with the same amount of pressure. Her smile widened at that before the bartender returned with a fresh drink garnished with another twirled orange peel. The two of you separated.

“So, Monica, what do you do?”

Something in science, the answer was obvious if she was at this holiday party. But she humored you all the same, turning her back to the counter and leaning close to you. There was pride in her answer, and it bloomed in her chest.

“I’m a mechanical engineer, specializing in astrophysics and astrobiology.”

“Don’t’ sell yourself short.” Darcy interjected with a watery laugh “She’s the head of our S.W.O.R.D division.”

Darcy had spoken about this before and the name rang familiar. Her company was looking at alternative fuel sources that could supply space exploration. All the while, they focused on vertical growing and bettering the community. From what you understood, this was a big deal. She was a big deal.

“Wow, that’s very impressive Ms. Rambeau”

Your voice was filled with genuine awe, but your conversation was cut short when the number sixteen was called out. Monica sheepishly pulled herself away from the bar and held her strip of paper up before approaching the table filled with wrapped gifts. She went for a medium-sized one adorned in reindeer.

“Oh wow!” She forced a smile, voice sweet like honey “A magic kit!”

The air in your room was stale and fought you as you pulled it into your lungs. You’d, at some point, kicked off your comforter and were splayed out on your sheets in nothing but a pair of boxer shorts and an oversized shirt. Sweat hat soaked through both and the fabric clung to your skin.

On a blind instinct you grabbed at the gun under your nightstand, fastened by nothing more than duct tape. You could feel your heart in your throat and struggled to swallow it down again. You weren’t sure when this became second nature for you, something within the last two months of accompanying Natasha to the gun range for hours a time.

All the same, you held the tip of the weapon to the ground and rounded the corner of your bedroom into the dark hallway. You were unsettled from the dream you’d just had. The memory. Your subconscious had finally connected the woman who stood at Carol’s side. Her familiarity.

Monica Rambeau.

It was true, there was a stark coldness to her when you’d met at a Christmas party just the year before. It was only in passing and there were moments, like at the fair, when Darcy would mention her co-worker.

This changed things. Anxiety spiked haplessly, even as you diligently searched and cleared each room the way you had been taught. Keep your gun down, keep your eyes on the darkest corners of the room, ready to fire your weapon at any point. Especially if it was aimed at Natasha.

There was the slight movement of a shadow to your left and you quickly raised the gun, aiming it directly at the disturbance. Veronica stood on a chair in the kitchen, struggling to fill a glass with warm water, the only temperature that the faucet would allow.

You let out a quiet, mortified sigh before tucking the weapon into the waistband of your shorts. Your daughter blinked with wide eyes and that same guilty feeling flooded you at once, overtaking the anxiety.

“Baby,” You breathed, closing the distance between you and flicking on the overhead lights. You both flinched at their harshness but eventually blinked the shock away. “What are you doing up?”

You didn’t expect an answer, nor did you get one. Instead, you scooped her up under her arms and set her gently on the linoleum. There was water in the fridge, but she always had issues pouring it from the large jug. Ronnie was stubborn and shot you a frown at your intrusion.

“Don’t give me that look, kid.”

Her expression eased and you dumped the water down the drain before refilling the glass with something colder and more refreshing. Ronnie gulped it down eagerly, soaking the collar of her shirt with the liquid. She let out an appeased noise and wiped the rest of the water away from her mouth. She stood on her tip-toes and placed the glass in the sink.

“Couldn’t sleep, huh? Me either.”

You tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. She blinked tiredly at you, your heart melting at the sight. It was easy to remember the words Natasha had trusted you with on the Ferris Wheel. Veronica would talk when she wanted to, but you had become quite good at reading her expressions and movements. Within the last month, you had stopped the long drives and the specialists. It eased you both.

“How about a sleepover?”

The exhaustion turned into joy and then combined within her look. You couldn’t help but chuckle as you scooped her up. She was getting too big for this, but you didn’t much care. You’d gotten stronger in the last few months and even if you hadn’t, you’d do the same.  

With a show of dramatics you tossed her onto the bed and replaced the duvet that you’d flung off. Carefully, as Ronnie’s stare averted, you placed the gun in the drawer next to your bed. The last thing you did was prop the window open, letting out the flat air and letting in the sound of the city.

Ronnie was pulled flush against your chest in a matter of moments, though you had suddenly lost all exhaustion. You listened to the sirens, to the calls of people just ending their nights. If you listened hard enough, you could hear the horns of the boats that settled into the harbor.

“I love you so much.” You whispered into the small of her neck, “One day I’m going to get us out of here.”

Veronica didn’t respond, but the squeeze her little hand gave yours was all the reassurance that you needed.

Clint swallowed down steaming black coffee without blowing on it to cool it down. The nutty scent filled the cab of the car and warmed your nerves. He drank like your daughter did, but with the purpose of waking himself up before the sun. You never did get back to sleep and were wired enough to refuse the cup he offered you this morning.

He’d knocked on your door as the orange sun moved over the horizon. You were to accompany him to the docks to check on business. This somehow seemed less intimidating than the dinner you’d attended with Natasha.

“It’ll be easy. We have a chokehold on the harbor, we just have to check with a few of the vendors to collect their dock rent and call it a day. Everything else is done under the table. People aren’t too happy because at the end of the day, we’re the ones that take money from them. But it’s a necessary evil.”

You nodded and watched as the city went by. It was peaceful, quiet. There had been a single foster home that you stayed in that had a view of the entire skyline. You were too far away to see the bustling people and the everyday chaos that accompanied it.

There were, of course, moments of calm when you would work the early morning shift at the diner. But that would always shatter by the time you made the two minute walk from your apartment to the back door that was choked with the scent of garbage and cheap cigarettes.

“We have some invitations to hand out too. In the glovebox.”

You furrowed your brow and popped it open. His weapon (or his second, or third) sat upon a stack of manilla cards with elegant writing on them that had to be done by hand. You inspected them but didn’t’ dare separate the paper.

“What are these for?”

“Nat throws a party for her benefactors every single year. It’s real fancy, a suit and tie thing. Her renters are invited too and if they have the balls to show up, they always have a good time. She makes sure of it.”

“We’re expected to attend?”

He nodded, “It’s a requirement, really. As Natasha’s right hand. You go where she goes and once your probationary period is over, you’ll be on her like glue. Though, I don’t think that’ll be much of a problem.”

You frowned at his statement, his insinuation. Sure, you had gotten close to Natasha, had even grown to like her. She had a way of getting under your skin until it felt like she lived in it. Otherwise, you would have cut your losses long ago and let her slit your throat the first moment she met you.

There was a feeling of devotion that you felt the need to uphold. She had spared your life, after all. You’d spent the last two and a half months with her guiding you, teaching you how to obey her every word. Without fault, you would. Clint knew it, Kate and Yelena knew it. You knew it.

Instead of admitting it, you frowned and slumped further in your seat, struggling to ignore Clint’s own shit-eating expression. By the time he pulled to a stop, it had started to drizzle enough for him to flick his wipers on. The sound of them scraping against the window filled the silence.

You took careful attention to stay quiet and observe. Your gun was strapped carefully to your side and the invitations rested in your side pocket. You didn’t dare get them wet and let the ink run in a soupy mess. It had been years since you’d been out here and part of you was unsteady on the aged and slick wood.

“Sam is a cool guy. His family has hold on a good portion of the harbor. He likes to joke, so don’t pay him any mind.” Clint jabbed you with his elbow. “And loosen up a little bit, would you?”

You glowered at him and rubbed the stiff spot on your ribs but felt your shoulders lower a bit. There was a lot of weight behind this, that had been made clear to you the second you were inducted into this system.

Instead of heading directly down the long stretches of worn dock, Clint took a turn just before the asphalt ended. A small structure that looked less weathered than the rest of your surroundings rested at the lots end. The windows were thick enough to withstand the watery winds.

Clint stilled his large hand shooting out across your chest. It took you a few seconds to clock the shattered glass on the front door. Small smears of crimson pocked the shards that remained. Much like the evening before, you drew your gun on instinct, and Clint did the same.

He didn’t take care to hide your presence. Instead, he took the brunt of his large boot and cracked through the doorframe with the force of one kick. Wood splintered, raining down on linoleum and a desk that was easily from the 70’s.

You could smell the blood before you saw it, nearly sliding on the flooring. You caught yourself before that happened, heart pounding in your ears. “Fuck!”

“Jesus Christ,” Clint mirrored your sentiments.

Whoever had been here was long gone, but they’d left quite the mess. They’d torn through the filing cabinets, leaving legal papers and folders scattered against the desk and the expanse of cabin space.

You tracked the source of the pooling blood with little difficulty. A man- one that you had rightly never seen before- was laying on his back, facing the ceiling. From edge to edge of his throat was a long cut leaking an ugly red color. His stare was frosty, soaked into his sweatshirt.

It was like a car crash, something that you struggled to avert your eyes from until Clint physically grasped your chin and turned your attention to him. “Hey, you alright?”

“Yeah, yes. Good.” You answered cooly, swallowing whatever dryness was in your throat. “Who would do something like this?”

“Carol… one of her lackeys. This is an eye for an eye thing.”

Even if it was an act of revenge, this was extensive. It sent a clear message even if you didn’t’ exactly know all the specifics of the feud. Of course, you’d seen Yelena at work and even that was mild compared to the brutality of this.

The thought of Monica, if it even had been her, completing a task as unfeeling as this filled your veins with ice. You felt your nails dig into your palms, soft and stinging. There was a surge of anger, and sadness that mixed into resolution. Natasha was right to despise the Danver’s family. Any family that treated the world with this much cruelty.

Natasha was in the gym on the second floor. Large windows overlooked the backyard, and a prolonged view of the harbor. There were blue mats adorning the floor, and a few wracks meant for weightlifting.

You had never seen this part of the house before. Usually the weather permitted sparring outside, but the late summer rain had made that impossible. Sheets of water obscured your usual view, though, it wasn’t exactly trained on the windows.

Natasha had her back facing you, her breathing timed evenly with each punch she threw at an 80-pound bag filled with sand. She wore tight-fitting shorts and a sports bra that left little to the imagination. Not that you had imagined her in that situation before.

Her muscles tightened and relaxed with each movement. They were scarred in a deep orchid pink, long ago healed. At one point, she was lashed. You recognized the damage done by a leather belt and shivered at the memory of it.

Natasha was fit, she was coated in a layer of sweat that dripped across her strength. You had to be clear minded for this and the state of her wasn’t making it easy on you. Her knuckles were wrapped, and she would grunt with each thrust of her fist. For just a moment, you wished you were under her mercy instead of the punching bag.  

That broke when she panted against the bag, stopping its swinging with a firm grasp on either side. “Are you just going to stand there and watch?”

Natasha had focused her green eyes on you through the reflection of the window. Of course, you hadn’t intended to gawk as long as you had. But you were leaning against the doorframe of the gym, practically drooling. You had forgotten yourself and you wouldn’t’ put it past Natasha to notice.

She turned to you, a wolfish smile on her face. “Take your jacket off. Holster too.”

You struggled to ignore the haughty expression on her face when you did exactly what she said without question, almost too eagerly, depositing them on the edge of the mat. You pushed your shoes off too, knowing not to track mud on any of Natasha’s carpets.

Her eyebrow lifted at the action. She’d moved closer during your actions, and you’d nearly run into her before noticing. Her presence was intoxicating. All-consuming.

“You’re here to tell me something,” She proclaimed “you’ve got that adorable look on your face. It’s good to know someone in this house still fears me.”

She was joking and it tugged at your heart to send that mood down to the ground before lighting it on fire. You’d expected her to be in poorer spirits after Clint had called her and let her know what had happened at the harbor. Instead, she responded in her same calculated coolness that she regarded you with now.

There was nothing about her demeanor that eased you, and suddenly, it felt like you were being scolded for a decision you had made. Even more so when she grasped your chin and forced you to look at her.

“That woman with Carol from the other night. I know her. Briefly.”

“Briefly?”

“As in, I met her at a Christmas party a few years back and… left with her.”

Natasha’s grip tightened against your chin, her thumb digging into your jaw. There was too much alcohol flowing that night and after making stinted conversation about how to disconnect two metal rings smoothly, the two of you went back to her apartment.

Before the sun came up, you left. There was shame in it, and the walk back to your own apartment punctuated with Darcy’s scolding was enough to make you forget the encounter altogether. It was one night- a fun night, but singular all the same.

Natasha let out a small noise of disapproval that sunk straight to your core. “Is that so?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Does she remember you?”

“It… didn’t seem like it.”

Her eyes narrowed, nose a short distance from your own. You could feel the hotness of her breath against your throat. How you had disappointed her. That much was clear from the lack of tenderness in her grasp. She eventually released you, trailing her fingers down the expanse of your neck.

She played with the small charm of your necklace, nothing more than a dainty gold chain with the tiniest whisper of a diamond in the center. Your skin prickled at the sensation, breath audibly catching as she worked her fingers over the length of chain.

“Well, I suppose this could be a problem. Especially with Carols violent behavior lately.”

Natasha sighed dramatically, and within an instant her nimble hand had tightened around your throat. She walked you the three steps backwards to the nearest wall. The small of your back landed with a heady thud and you used the last of your available breath to grunt out in protest.

Of course, you had seen her angry before, but it was never directed at you. Not like this. She wasn’t squeezing tight enough to injure you, not really. But the shock of the movement had made you think she would end you all the same.

“You should have come to me right away, pet.” Her grasp tightened; words growled. “And here I thought you were such a good, obedient, girl.”

Her words filled you with an immense shame for letting her down. Over the past few months, it had become impossible to be anything but perfect for Natasha Romanoff. The fact that you hadn’t connected the dots sooner was disillusioning.

The grip against your throat loosened ever so slightly as she leaned closer, her lips nearly ghosting your own. You could barely taste her, a strangled whimper escaping you. She pressed her body close. It was warm and overwhelming.

“I expect you to handle this on your own if it becomes a problem, darling.”

Before you could close the distance, Natasha pulled away from you entirely. It left you panting against the wall, wanting for something more. She knew exactly what she was doing. You craved her more than anything, and she had brought you so close to something you both wanted before denying it altogether.

Natasha sauntered, actually sauntered, across the gym and grabbed a towel from a nearby bench. She regarded you with flushed cheeks, her eyebrow raised as if nothing had just happened and you supposed that nothing did.

“Clint has told you about the party?” It took a few seconds before you found your voice, after her gentle urgings “Use your words, sweetheart.”

“Yes ma’am. He did.”

She reached for a water bottle, exchanging it’s spot on the bench for the towel. She takes three hungry swallows, and you watched the way her throat moved in response to the water. Each of her movements seemed deliberate, nearly calculated to get a reaction out of you.

“Perfect. Don’t worry that pretty little head of yours about what to wear. I’ll lay a dress out in your room.”

“My room?” Your words were squeaked.

There was a short hum in response as she gulped down another helping of water before setting it down entirely. That anger had ebbed away from her almost entirely. The fire that had been within her eyes excited you, and despite yourself, so did her demands.

“You’re so skittish. Come here. We need to work on your lead hook.”

Natasha didn’t offer to wrap your knuckles, nor did you ask. Instead, you leaned into the bag, letting the course material cut into your knuckles with a welcoming sting.

There was great thought put into any Romanoff party that was thrown. Lights were wrapped around the banister, and caterers walked through the teems of people with unwavering silver trays of finger food that cost more than your old salary for a number of months.

Back storm doors were opened to the pool, lit up and buzzing with an equal amount of people. Natasha had hired a piano player who haplessly pressed down on keys and drew a small crowd with each song that would crescendo into the dining room.

The overlapping theme was a dark forest green that reminded you much of the paint color slathered on Natasha’s bedroom walls. Something you hadn’t seen in months, but remembered so fondly. It was clear that she wanted to present a united force, something strong and unwavering in their power.

Clint was dawned with a finely pressed suit and a deep green tie that matched the shade of Kate’s dress to the very hue. She wore something silk and modest, reaching down to her heeled feet but leaving her muscular arms entirely bare.

Yelena stunned in a dress of her own, a crushed sage velvet that had a dipping neckline and sleeves that met at her wrist. By the confidence of her stride, you had no trouble believing she had chosen the outfit with the thought of how many weapons she could conceal. Her devilish smile only confirmed your thoughts.

As of you, Natasha had picked out something a little more revealing. Much like the maroon number she wore to dinner the other night, the dress she chose for you hugged every inch of your body. Its fern color complimented your complexion, bringing out the redness of your cheeks.

A slit moved from the base of your dress to the middle of your thigh. A halter neckline clung to your breasts, nearly pushing them up and out. It had been years, high school prom, since you’d worn something even close to this. You felt your shoulders flush red when you descended the stairs and struggled to blend in.

Natasha was sidled up by the mantel in deep conversation with someone who was a stranger to you. Most of the people here were. Though, their hands gave way to their high-ranking positions in the city. Few had callouses or oil stains.

She was in a three-piece suit that was color matched to your own outfit down to the shade. There were gold accents on her jewelry and the neckline of her waistcoat dipped down the tanned expanse of her skin.

Kate let out a low whistle in response to your entrance as she offered you a hand at the base of the stairs. You’d almost missed the last one due to your shameless gawking at the woman of the party. “Quite the looker, y/n. Natasha chose this?”

“Naturally,”

She chuckled softly, a small sound “Nothing if not calculating. Do you know how to socialize at one of these things?”

“Mm, as the caterer, yes.”

This seemed to amuse her more than you’d like. Katherine Elizabeth Bishop was a name that you had reluctantly googled early on in your employment. She had grown up wealthy and well acquainted with gatherings such as these. Of course, that was before her mother wound up incarcerated for white-collar crimes. The skills seemed to benefit her here, however.

Kate did everything with practiced fluidity that you envied. She plucked two champagne glasses from a nearby tray. “Only one of these, nurse it like your life depends on it. That way they won’t keep trying to shove alcohol into your hands. This is work, after all.”

You followed her lead and took a small sip of the bubbling, sour liquid. It was more expensive than anything you had ever had before and far-from-palatable. It wouldn’t be had to keep the drinking at bay.

“The man that Yelena is schmoozing over there is Billy Russo. Jigsaw. He’s in charge of the lower quarter. The Romanoff’s and the Russo’s have a cordial relationship and Yelena is much more feared than him.”

“Why do they call him jigsaw?” You whispered.

“He tends to chop people into pieces until they’re impossible to put back together. And that’s if you find all the missing parts. He has a very nice summer home up in the Poconos, so don’t get on his bad side.”

Suddenly the drink in your hand didn’t look too bad, but you held it right where it was. Clint was laughing by the window, obviously pushing his charm on a woman that you had never clocked before. She was running her fingers up his tie, tightening it before letting her hands drop.

“Barton is with Ophelia Sarkissian, the Viper. She is known for her cunning leadership. She’s got a huge organization in Hell’s Kitchen. Something called Hydra. I wouldn’t worry too much about it though because Natasha is keeping a tight eye on it.”

“Mm, cut one head off, two more grow back.”

“What?”

“Greek mythology. Hydra is a big water snake that has nine heads. Each time one was cut off two more would grow back in its place. It was practically unkillable until Hercules came through the marshes with his nephew. Hercules would slice each head off while Iolaus cauterized the wounds so the heads couldn’t grow back.”

Kate blinked at you with shock in her eyes. You simply gave her a shrug in return. People constantly underestimated you and your intelligence. Besides, when you were a child, you had a morbid fascination with Greek mythology as a whole.

She stared beyond your shoulder, lilting her head to the side.

“I didn’t realize that Natasha’s new plaything was so knowledgeable.”

Ice ran thorough your veins. Your eyes darted to the window where Clint and Mrs. Sarkissian had once been. It was vacant now, and an expertly painted hand drummed past your arm. They were sharp and sent chills down your spine as she rounded you, sidling up next to Kate.

“Trust fund kid, leave us.”

Kate drew in a sharp breath, straightening her shoulders. She nearly opened her mouth to stay something but thought better of it before shooting you a look of apology and vanishing into the crowd in the dining room.

Ophelia was intoxicating in her presence. She towered over you and wore snakeskin heels to widen the distance. She wore a tight-fitted black dress that had cuts on either side, exposing her toned stomach to the world. What she wanted with you wasn’t clear, but her hand toyed coyly with the neckline of your own dress, adjusting it.

“Word travels fast in this city. I just couldn’t wait to see it myself. Hearing that Natasha Romanoff of all people expelled her Winter soldier for a… Summer Sentient. All seasons are temporary, I suppose.”

“Expelled?”

The word had slipped from your tongue, and you quickly thought better of it when she settled her splayed hand against your shoulder, giving it a light squeeze. It was cold, unfeeling. Unlike the fire that Natasha had instilled in you earlier.

There was a demonic smile that spread across her face, both of her eyebrows lifting as she let out an exaggerated grasp. It was clear that this woman, this leader, couldn’t keep her hands to herself in any manner, including the internal affairs that she dangled in front of you like a prize.

“Oh, did Natty not tell you? She had Bucky under her thumb for years, nearly a decade. A few months back, he was just gone. There’s a lot of gossip in these streets and not much of it is plausible, but I’d put money on this one.”

 Again, her fingers danced over your collarbone. “Miss Romanoff is not known for her mercy, but after beating the Winter Soldier within an inch of his life, she let him go. He ran like any sensible man would, of course. But he left a trail of blood behind him. I’m quite sure he’s somewhere out west struggling to move in an upper body brace.”

She laughed cruelly at the look on your face. There was no use in masking it. You knew that Bucky had been absent, but through your own turmoil you had forgotten all about it. Your stomach twisted in unease. What if Natasha grew tired of you? It was inevitable, really. You’ only prolonged your fate by bending to her whim.

“Ophelia,” Natasha’s voice drew your attention first, and then the heat of her touch on the small of your back. “Have you tried the lamb?”

The woman faltered, gritting her teeth “I was about to.”

“Oh, you must.” Yelena seemed to materialize out of nowhere, looping her arm around Madame Hydra herself. She pulled with intent. “I haven’t seen you since Moscow. We need to catch up!”

“I was never in Moscow.”

“That’s a shame. I can paint you a brilliant picture.”

Their voices faded away into the rest of the party. It was then that you noticed Clint by the door, his stance stiffened. Kate glowered next to him, not following her own rule and downing the rest of her drink before plucking another off the passing tray.

You stepped out of Natasha’s grasp, not wanting to be anywhere near her at the moment. Her perfume was intoxicating. Its floral scent made you dizzy and took away your ability to think straight. It was part of the reason you had been lulled this far into complicity. It scared you that you were willing to do anything for her.

“y/n,” she urged.

“I don’t want to hear it.”

Natasha’s stare hardened. She gripped the back of your neck in a movement that would otherwise be familiar, sweet, even. However, the way she led you down the hallway made your stomach drop in a feeling of doom. “Not here, Malen'kiy krolik.”

Natasha’s office was strictly off limits, but you found yourself in the warmth of it in a matter of moments. There was no wall that wasn’t adorned with floor to ceiling bookshelves, and a large cherrywood desk was at its head. It was kept neat like the rest of the house.

There was a PHD on the wall, and an associates under that. Each bore Natasha’s name. She closed the doors behind her. Without regarding you, she went to a shelf in the back of the room, pouring herself a glass of bourbon, much like the one she was drinking when you stirred in her bed.

She swallowed it back, before pouring another. This time she sipped it. Your own back was against the far wall, heart pounding mercilessly through you. Yelling at Natasha had a lot more weight behind it than you anticipated.  

“You’re going to do the same to me.” You eventually whispered.

Her body stiffened, muscles tightening and then releasing before she turned to you, her eyes reddened. “What?”

“I’ve been entirely blind to my purpose here. I’ve never… I’ve never understood why you chose me. Why not go for someone who knows what they were doing? Who knew how to protect you and care for you? You had that with Bucky.”

Her eyes hardened. “Don’t you ever mention that name in this house.”

“It’s the truth, Natasha! You could have let me die, just like that, and you didn’t. Instead, you took me in and trained me, and for what? Just to throw me into the harbor with cement blocks chained to my ankles.”

“That is an entirely outdated practice and frankly, it’s insulting.” Her words were soul deep, but they barely broke your skin. “I would never do that.”

“A bullet through the head, then?”

“No.”

You were gaining traction enough to pull yourself from the wall and take heady steps towards her. If you didn’t do it now, you would never. Part of you was certain that you’d never see the outside of this room again. That she’d snap and do exactly what you were imploring her to.

“He served you for years and within a singular night you nearly kill him.” Your breath shook, you were so close to her now. “What is stopping you from doing the exact same to me?”

“No, no” She reached up and grasped both sides of your face. There were tears against your cheeks, something you hadn’t realized dripped from your chin. “Malyshka, no don’t cry.”

Everything had come to a head; the months of non-stop training, the pressure of keeping this side of your life away from your daughter, away from Darcy. A true friend that you had been lying to. And now, knowing that it could be all for nothing. It was easy to dispose of someone like you.

There was no reason to show weakness in front of the woman who was training you not to feel anything at all. Above everything, you found yourself ashamed. She still held your face within her grasp.

“He hurt you.” Her jaw clenched and unclenched, there was a fuzzy vulnerability in her green stare. “I can show mercy, y/n. But I’ve learned, not when it comes to you. Even before all of… this, there was something that I saw within you. Something that made what I did to Bucky all the more worth it.”

You breathed in a watery sniffing sound that was replaced by nothing but a whimper. Natasha softened even more, letting her shoulders fall. She tucked a strand of hair behind your ear.

“He was pulling back for months, and you were the final straw. I had never seen someone so resilient, someone who didn’t beg for their life but recounted it. In a moment of weakness, I let you go. I thought that training you, that making you mine, would absolve my sins but it’s only deepened them. My feelings for you have only deepened.”

Her forehead was pressed against yours, her ministrations, and God help you, her apologies were startling. Her lips were so close to yours; you could nearly taste the liquor on her breath “Natasha,”

Suddenly, she was all you could feel. Her hand was against you back, pulling you into her body to fit directly on hers. There was such a strong guiding power to her. Your shock was muffled by her mouth on yours, your whine swallowed in moments.

You melted into her, kissing back with enough fever to leave you both breathless. There were stars dancing in your vision, you lungs burning eventually pulling you both apart. She panted twice before pecking your lips once more, you nearly chased after her.

“Fuck,” she growled “you… are absolutely delicious.”

Your cheeks suddenly heated up and you hid your face in the small of her neck, letting out a small groan in embarrassment. You felt Natasha’s laugh rumble through her.

“No need to be timid, pet. There will be plenty of time for that later.” She raked her nails up your back, “Right now, I have a snake to behead.”  

[Taglist🕷♡: @dumbasslesbi, @lostremind, @toouncreativeforausername @autorasexy @eringranola @mikookaaaaaao @marvelwoman-simp @pacmanmiles @mostlymarvelsstuff, @mrsrushman, @milfsandtittyenthusiast, @random-raccoon4, @ravenromanova, @mysticalmoonlight7, @ahintofchaos@cowboyboots236 @lissaaaa145, @natsxwife]

#Natasha Romanoff x reader #Natasha Romanoff x you #Natasha Romanoff x y/n #Natasha Romanoff #Natasha romanov #Natasha Romanov x reader #Natasha Romanov x y/n #Natasha Romanov x you #Marvel #Marvel Au #Mafia au #Kate Bishop #Yelena Belova #Clint Barton #bucky barnes

[systemadministratorclu]

Y'all, I just HAD to share this, because holy shit.

A little background first:

I run the drive-thru cash register window at a fast food joint. One of the shittiest jobs there is because some of the rudest/stupidest people on the planet come through the drive-thru, and one must have near superhuman patience to deal with it. That said, there are customers who come regularly and are not hard to deal with at all. And then there are some-very few and far between-that restore your faith in humanity a little every time they come.

This is about one such customer.

This guy comes every day at about the same time with his grandson (6 years old when this started, recently turned 7) and gets the exact same thing every time. To the point where now either I see their car or I hear the guy say his name (whichever happens first) and I'm already ringing them up. Because of this, the kid now thinks I have weirdly specific psychic powers, and has said he prefers coming to the place when I'm there. He's also decided I'm the best employee this place has. The granddad talks to me like I'm a human, they're always smiling and happy to see me (which means a lot in this line of work, let me tell you) and even on my shittiest days, they've managed to make me smile. I genuinely look forward to seeing these people every day.

Recently, grandson was hella excited to tell me he had a birthday coming up. Reminded me every day "my birthday's coming!" as most 6yo kids do.

Maybe I was feeling a little holiday spirit or something, but one day after work, I went to the Dollar Tree near the restaurant. I picked out a kid's birthday card and a Christmas card. I wrote a message in the Christmas one about what I just explained above, thanking them for bringing some joy to my days, because y'know what? People need to hear that shit. Especially in today's world. And I wanted them to know how much this meant to me. I wrote a little joke in the birthday card about not forgetting the day. Then I looked in my wallet, saw I had a $10 and a $1, and stuck the $10 in the birthday card. Addressed the birthday card to the kid and the Christmas one to kid and grandpa. I give the cards to them on their normal drive-thru visit. They are of course surprised (kid starts yelling "thank you" even though he hasn't gotten to open it yet) but thankful. Then the line moves on.

Fast forward to today.

I see the car come in but I don't start ringing the order up, because it's WAY early for them. I give my usual greeting, then I hear a woman's voice, so I think it's someone in the same kind of car. But when she asks "is this Hal?" I then realize it's the kid's mother, whom he has told all about me and who has come through with him before.

I say yes, and she tells me she's not here to order anything, just to see me, since kid and granddad are sick. I tell her to come on to the window, she does, and hands me a card and a nicely wrapped gift. I asked her to tell them hi for me, she said she would and then the line moved.

I got off on lunch break and opened card and gift.

I was not prepared. At all.

This is the gift...

...the card (no writing on the front).....

.....and the typed note inside the card that actually brought tears to my eyes.

......I'm still not over this. I will be thinking about how this went on for OVER HALF A FUCKING YEAR and I had no idea.

This is the kind of stuff that makes this shitty job worth it. People like this....We need more of in this world. I'm going to hold onto that note so when I feel like shit or I don't matter, I can look at it and know there's a kid out there who I am so important to that he got his dad to write a whole-ass letter, to some random stranger he only knows through his son, inviting me to their fucking house. I'm tearing up again as I write this, just thinking about it.

If that doesn't say "you matter", idk what does.

(And yes, I will go at some point, because how can I not? I'm not gonna dash this kid's hopes and make myself look like an enormous asshole. This is the RL version of being handed a toy phone and told it's ringing)

#I'm crying and so are you. #ooc

[thebearer]

autumn leaves falling down like pieces into place |carmen berzatto x reader|

prompt: target, halloween, carmen, and you. or a short, fluffy work about halloween shopping with target bc why not? 'tis the season.

contains: fluff. that's it lol. mentions to past family memories and some insecure carmen, but honestly just fluff!

“Oh, look at this one!” You coo, snatching the tiny ghost figurine off the shelf.  

“Cute.” Carmen muttered, one hand on the obnoxiously red cart, the other on your lower back. “Put it in.” He nodded towards the cart that was slowly starting to fill up. 

The speakers droned out some dull pop song, your coffee and his melting away in the drink carriers on the cart. Carmen didn’t usually prefer Starbucks, much more of a fan of the local coffee spot a block over from The Bear. They knew his regular, made it for him as soon as he walked in. No fuss, no forced conversation- just the way he liked it. 

But you liked Starbucks, well, in the right circumstance. You liked going to Target, you liked having a coffee to sip on while you “browsed”. Browsed, Carmen had grinned when you told him that. 

“You don’t just go out and browse sometimes? Look at things? Window shop to make yourself feel happier?” You’d asked him earlier in the car, head tilting to the side. 

“No, baby. I, uh, I don’t.” Carmen looked over at you, his hand still holding yours in the center console. “But maybe you’re onto somethin’.” 

Carmen’s lack of decorations was deemed a crime in your eyes, which inspired the trip. Halloween trinkets filling the cart, the sly smile you’d give him when you’d slip another one in, just like you were doing now. 

“It’s my treat.” You’d remind him, with a little wink. Carmen let you think that. Like he’d ever let you pay. And miss out on a chance to spoil you? No way. 

“Where’re you gonna put all this?” Carmen hummed, watching you situate the tiny ghost next to the plastic cauldron and iridescent ornaments- something you saw on TikTok that you were going to attempt to DIY. “My place isn’t that big.” 

“I’ll find a place, don’t worry.” You hum, sliding back in beside him, swiping your cup out of the basket. “You’ve got a bathroom, and the kitchen, and the bedroom-” 

“-Bedroom?” Carmen grinned lightly, his hand snaking to your waist while his free hand pushed the cart. “You gonna put this creepy shit in there?” 

“It’s not creepy.” You huff at him. “It’s cute, festive. Makes the place feel more… homey.” 

Carmen decided then, he’d let you put a full fucking skeleton in his room if it made you feel that way. He’d get rid of all his shit, didn’t need it anyways, so you’d have room for all your holiday stuff. Carmen’s heart fluttered at the thought of what Christmas would look like. Would you put up a tree? He hoped you would. He’d go and chop one down if he had to. Where in Chicago he’d find a tree? He wasn’t sure, but he’d find one for you. If it made you as happy as this did. 

“Ok,” You pulled him out of his thoughts, stopping the cart lightly. You plucked the bright orange bag up. “Did you know these are my absolute weakness?” Pumpkin shaped Reese’s, in their bright orange and purple glory. 

“Yeah?” Carmen grinned. “This is it, huh?” 

“Yes, in any shape too. But I prefer the pumpkin.” You went to set it back, Carmen’s hand grabbing the bag lightly and putting it in the cart. 

“‘M more of a Christmas Tree fan.” Carmen shrugged. “You know Cicero- uh, Jimmy-” You nodded, slipping back into his side. “He, uh, he used to bring a bag of these to Christmas every year when I was little. He’d always have to hide ‘em, ya know? My dad… My dad didn’t want us havin’ all that sugar before dinner. Jimmy would come in where all the kids were, toss ‘em to me or Mikey or Richie when he started hangin’ around. Tell us not to get caught, and Merry Christmas, and hide the evidence. We’d eat them before goin’ to Mass, and he did it every year until I got in high school.” 

You smiled softly, hand sliding down his back. “That’s sweet.” You hum, squeezing his hip lovingly. “You should get him some for Christmas this year. Return the favor.” 

“Yeah,” Carmen scoffed lightly. “Yeah, I think he’d like that.” 

A silence fell between the two of you, chatter from the surrounding people, the scratchy-screech of the cart. Carmen’s heart hammered, mind racing. Why the fuck did you tell her that? Fuckin’ ruined the moment. Stupid, fuckin’ stupid. 

“Hey, uh,” Carmen’s hands shook lightly, fingers drumming on the red plastic over the cart. “I-I didn’t mean to… ‘m sorry, I didn’t mean to say all that, ya know? Ruin the-the… I just, I dunno, you said that and-and I-” 

“-What?” You asked softly, brows creasing lightly. “What are you talking about? Say what?” 

“The, uh, the thing with Jimmy. I-I didn’t mean to make it awkward-” 

“Why is it awkward?” You pressed, setting down the candle you were smelling. “I thought it was sweet.” 

“Yeah? I-I just… I dunno why I said it, I’m sorry.” Carmen rambled, a hand falling over his face, hoping you couldn’t see the blush growing over his face. 

“Don’t be sorry, Carm. There’s nothin’ to be sorry about.” You shook your head, waving him off. “It’s a sweet story. I like that you told me that.” 

“Yeah?” Carmen asked softly. 

You nodded, smiling at him. “You know I do, bear.” The nickname rolls off your tongue so effortlessly, calmly- Carmen’s sure he’s going to melt into the floor. 

“Here,” You twist the lid off the next candle. “This one has caramel. You like that, right?” 

Carmen wasn’t sure how you remembered that. He’d mentioned it once, in passing, that he liked whatever you were burning at your apartment when he was over. It was caramel and coffee, you’d remembered, because you showed up at his house with the same candle the next day. A love present, you’d called it, pressing a kiss to his cheek. You didn’t want anything in return, no strings, just buying him something because you wanted to; because he liked it. It was still a new concept to Carmen, how you could love him without wanting anything other than love in return. 

Carmen ducked down, the brim of his hat bumping your wrist lightly. “Yeah, I like that one.” He nods. “Smells like that other one.” 

“Yeah? Not too pumpkinny?” You tilt your head to the side. 

“No.” Carmen laughs, breathy and light. “I don’t smell any pumpkin. Is there pumpkin?” 

“Caramel Pumpkin Latte.” You tilt the label towards him. “They’re saying it’s in there.” Carmen hummed lightly. “You calling them a liar?” You giggle playfully.  

“No, but I am sayin’ there’s not pumpkin in there.” Carmen snorted lightly, putting the candle in the cart anyways. “Not real pumpkin, anyways.”

“Maybe if this chef thing doesn’t work out, you could be a candle critic.” You tease, falling into slow steps beside him. “Be a candle blogger or something.” 

“Candle blogger?” Carmen repeats with an amused smile. “That’s not real.”  

You look at him, eyes wide in excitement. “Oh, Berzatto, am I about to blow your mind.” 

“No? Really?” Carmen laughed. “You’re fuckin’ with me?” 

“No! It’s a real thing, Carmen.” You laugh, pulling out your phone. “There was this woman that, like, went viral because she was going insane about Bath and Body Works not having her candle or something.” You giggle, typing slowly in the search bar. 

“That’s fuckin’ insane.” Carmen rolled his eyes. 

“Yeah.” You smirk. “Think she might’ve started a trend.” 

“Well, can’t do that then.” Carmen shrugged, loading the items on the small platform at the self checkout. “Don’t wanna go up against her, baby. She’s intense.” 

“Yeah, good call.” You grin, pocketing your phone, opening the bags while he scanned the ghost. “Guess you’ll have to stick to cooking.” 

“Guess so.” Carmen muttered, putting the plush pumpkins in the bag, reaching for his wallet. 

“Eh! No!” You click your tongue, eyes flashing at him. “I told you I was buying it.” You put a hand over the card slot, glaring at Carmen with a frown. 

“C’mon,” Carmen shook his head lightly, pushing your hand away lightly. “You got a number you wanna put in?” He nodded towards the screen. 

You pouted, pausing for a moment. “Yes.” You mutter, typing in your number quickly, pivoting your body in front of the card machine. 

“You gonna move?” Carmen looked at you, already reaching around to put his card in. 

“No, I told you it was my treat.” You mutter, twisting with your phone in your hand. One look at the screen, and you were tapping your phone against the screen. The ding chimed, your smug smile spreading across your lips when the receipt printed. 

Carmen was stunned, card still in his hand. “What- How did you-” 

“Gotta be quicker than that, Berzatto.” You grin, pressing a kiss to his cheek. 

Carmen looked down at his card in his hand, shoving it back into his wallet. Maybe Sugar was right, maybe he did need to actually learn how to use his phone. He grabbed the bags from you, swatting your hand away while you pushed the basket back. 

“Shoulda let me pay.” Carmen grumbled, walking beside you out the sliding doors. It had started to get chilly, leaves tinging with warm color and the temperature beginning to drop. “Stuff’s for me anyways.” 

“Yeah, but I wanted you to get it.” You bump your hip playfully with his. “Besides, I told you it was my treat.” 

Carmen didn’t respond, unlocking the trunk and putting the bags in carefully, but the frown didn’t fade. Brows still furrowed and lips still in a hard line. 

“Hey,” You call, stopping him before he could close the trunk. “I told you I wanted to buy it for you.” 

“Yeah,” Carmen’s brows furrowed. “But you shouldn’t’ve-” 

“-Carm.” You groan lightly. “I wanted to pay, ok? You always get me stuff. Let me get this for you, ok?” You say lightly, arms snaking around his shoulders, looping behind his neck. “Let me spoil you, bear. Lemme be your sugar mama.” 

Carmen snorts, lips curling in a grin lightly. “Shut up.” He mutters, your lips closing over his in a sweet kiss. 

You pulled apart, blushed and swooned in a Target parking lot. “You gotta put the stuff up anyways.” You tease, hands sliding down his toned arms, over his color block jacket. 

“Yeah?” Carmen snorts lightly, pulling the trunk shut. “You’re not gonna help me?” 

“I’ll be directing.” You declare, pinching his butt lightly, grinning at how he jumped and flushed. Sliding into the passenger side, you lean across the console to Carmen. “I’ll make sure the ambiance is there.” 

Carmen nodded, starting the car, eyes bright when they met yours. “Light the candle?” 

“Yes.” You laugh. “And I’ll pick out a movie.” 

Carmen snorted lightly, his free hand moving behind your head rest while he backed out. It made your tummy flip with excitement. “Yeah? Casper?”  

You give him a feigned unimpressed look. “You know I’m more of a Hocus Pocus girl.” 

“Right, my bad.” Carmen laughed, hand gripping your thigh lightly, thumb rubbing patterns over the material of your leggings. Your heart skipped. “Fine. As long as you open those Reese’s.” 

“Deal.” You grin, kissing his forearm gently. 

Hours later, wrappers piled on the coffee table, the candle burning in the kitchen, and the orange lights glowing from where Carmen string them over the TV stand in the living room. One Jack-O-Lantern fleece blanket thrown over both of your legs, your head on Carmen’s while the beginning credits of Beetlejuice played on the TV. Carmen decided right there that you were right. This was more homey. Felt… right and content. He wasn’t so sure it was the decorations, more likely it was the girl who picked them out.

#thebearer #bearblahs #carmen berzatto #carmen berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto #the bear #carmen berzatto fluff #carmy berzatto fluff #carmen berzatto ​x fem!reader #carmen berzatto x female!reader #carmen berzatto x you #carmen berzatto blurb #carmen berzatto x reader smut #carmen berzatto fic #carmen 'carmy' berzatto #jimmy cicero #uncle jimmy #jimmy kalinowski #the bear fx #the bear hulu #the bear fic

[blue-jisungs]

Helloo first of all merry christmas and happy early new year (or whatever holidays you celebrate)!!!! I don't know if your OPLA requests are still open, but i would absolutely LOVE a stabilished relationship sanji x (gn) reader where reader is kind of an ambivert who tends to be embarassed to speak their mind when they're uncomfy or when they need something, so sanji always keeps an eye on them to check if they're okay. Sort of like a couple who has their own language that no one else understands, just reallyyyy fluffy stuff

If you don't feel like writing it it's totally okay!!! Have a nice day<3

code

author's note. hi anonnie!! sorry for such a late reply <\3 i don’t celebrate but thank u hehe i hope u had a nice time too ^^ to be honest i’m not really happy with how this turned out but i couldn’t think of anything else :( either way, i hope you enjoy it even a little bit :D

it was no secret that you have the tendency to get shy, especially when asking for something. it’s been always a struggle of yours, more often than not ending up in a position you didn’t want to find yourself in simply because you failed to ask for something… or deny.

which you were fine with, technically. sure, no one enjoys being in uncomfortable situations but you got used to it.

however, dating sanji was a turning point in your life. previously, your family and strangers would ignore your needs or just assume that if you didn’t deny anything, you were fine with it. this bad habit of yours took sanji a while to crack.

just like when you turned in the baratie for the first time with a friend of yours.

“anything else, pretty?” the handsome (your future to be boyfriend, not like you knew) blonde man asked with a charming smile. your friend shook jer head while you blinked. sanji used this opportunity to persuade you into ordering more “may i offer something?”

you were absolutely full, no more space in your stomach whatsoever. it was sure you wouldn’t fit more but–

“maybe dessert? such a sweet person deserves a tiramisu to end their day” sanji’s pearly whites glinted in a warm smile. and you nodded shyly, almost awkwardly.

he didn’t pay attention to it then but at the end of the day, laying down before sleep… his memory recalled the resistance in your eyes but a fake smile of acceptance.

since you dined at baratie quite often (yes, he was one of the reasons) sanji started to recognize your habits. that you ordered even if you were full or didn’t like a certain dish… and how you sometimes even forced yourself to eat it because you didn’t want him or the cooks to feel bad.

which made his heart clench – both with worry and because of how cute you are.

with him being your boyfriend and lots of free time on the going merry, which you joined because you two couldn’t stand the possibility of being far away from each other and luffy not minding at all (“the more the merrier”, he said), sanji promised himself to work on it. for your own good because he hated the fact that some people could get advantage of you.

like usopp.

“hiyaaaa y/n! would you mind cleaning the crow’s nest for me?” usopp asked, the usual wide grin adorning his face. you blinked, embarrassed to deny yet…

“wh… um…” you started and the great captain put the broom in your hands, patting your arm

“thanks! i’m sooo tired, you know?” he stretched dramatically, eyes closing. you had plans – you were supposed to help sanji in making dinner… but now…

“they’re not cleaning anything, usppp”

the boy’s eyes shot open and he jolted upon hearing sanji’s voice. the cook didn’t look so friendly – arms crossed, cold look in his ocean eyes.

“oh yeah, right! no problem… it was a joke you see!” usopp chuckled nervously and took the broom back.

“joke my ass. do not use them like that or next time the broom is getting shoved–”

“woah, woah, woah… i got the message” usopp squeaked and ran away to the crow’s nest. you pouted.

“sorry…” a sigh escaped your lips and sanji stepped closer, tucking a stray strand of your hair behind your ear.

“no, no. don’t apologize, there’s no need. but we need to work on that, darling” he smiled tenderly and pecked your forehead.

one day after telling sanji that you’re just too embarrassed to say no or speak your mind, he came up with an idea – that you have a secret code. obviously if you were too shy, you’d just tap him or wink twice. at first, you thought it was silly. but sooner than you imagined, you came to a conclusion that it’s a pretty brilliant idea.

additionally, even if you didn’t know about that, your boyfriend always kept his eye on you. scanning your face and reactions so he could barge in anytime; as creepy as it sounded because of that sanji knew you like the back of your hand and sometimes even without using words, he knew that you were uncomfortable.

“so, so, so! we should head out! there’s no time to lose!” luffy announced on a random monday morning, almost jumping off the walls “we’re going to y/n’s family island!”

your eyes widened as you watched the captain terrified, sanji instantly tensing.

“w… what? why?” you stuttered and luffy stopped in his tracks.

“it’s famous for its sewing arts, right? we need new clothes… and it’s gonna be fun! we’ll meet your family!” luffy grinned.

you felt sanji’s hand on yours, tapping your thumb twice. “are you okay?”, that’s what the gesture meant. you looked at him, hesitantly shaking your head.

“d-…” you didn’t even manage to choke out, puffing your cheeks.

“do we have to? we can get clothes everywhere” the blonde asked, moving his thumb in a soothing motion. sanji asked exactly what you wanted to. maintaining eye contact, he nodded. “i’ve got this”

“but y/n’s family…” luffy whined, pouting.

“y/n should speak for herself on this matter, luffy. maybe she doesn’t want to see them?” sanji hummed.

luffy has a golden heart and pure soul but sometimes could get a bit too much… and doesn’t understand some human reactions. and it’s not like you hated your family – you just left in a hurry, a tense atmosphere in the household. and you just weren’t ready to return.

“so?” luffy asked, rising his eyebrows. sanji squeezed your hand, encouraging you.

“i don’t really want to… see them. right now.” you mumbled shyly “sorr–”

“no, no. don’t say sorry, i just… wanted to surprise you” luffy smiled, his eyes twinkling. he came up to you and patted your head “we’ll go there once you’re ready. just tell me!”

nodding shyly, you watched luffy leave. sanji grinned and cupped your face.

“what? was it bad?” you asked, blinking.

“no, darling. you were very brave” he cooed and placed a soft kiss on your lips “i’m proud”

then sanji moved his hand to your back and drummed a melody, signalling that usopp is coming. you snickered and pecked his cheek, being met with a loud whine coming from the boy who just entered the room.

masterlist <3

taglist. @eternalgyu ,, @haecien

#vinsmoke sanji #sanji #sanji x reader #one piece sanji #sanji opla #opla sanji x reader #opla sanji x you #opla sanji x y/n #sanji fluff #sanji imagine #opla sanji #opla x reader #one piece netflix #live action one piece #one piece live action #sanji x you #sanji x y/n #opla sanji fluff #opla fluff #opla x you #opla x y/n #opla imagine #sanji vinsmoke #blue jisungs's requests

[mrswint3rs]

Best Friends Older Sister

pairing- MODERN AU Bela Dimitrescu x Fem! reader

summary- You and your best friend’s sister have some unspoken chemistry

a/n- i was gonna do more with this but lost motivation

25 days of kinkmas day 5 - slight sadomasochism stuff ig

NSFW WARNING:

                 contains- Mentions of reader having family problems/insecurities, oral sex (f!receiving), dom! bela sub! reader, slight sadism ig, clit pinching, forbidden romance/lust, mutual lusting, slight age gap (Reader is 19 and Bela is 24)

•:•::••:•:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:•☾☼☽•:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:••:•

You've been best friends with the middle Dimitrescu sister, Cassandra. For as long as you can remember. Having met through high-school as misfits, the two of you became instant friends.

You even went to the same college when you got older. Even though you were drastically different in many ways, you understood each-other with ease. You told each-other everything. Be it life struggles, random thoughts, or whatever else. You trusted one another with everything.

But there was one thing you couldn't bring yourself to tell her despite all this. You had an undeniable attraction to her older sister, Bela. You told yourself you would never act on it, never thought you'd have a chance. Bela was like a walking goddess. Her black lipstick perfect, never cracking. Along with her pale skin and dark makeup so bewitching and her gothic style. Her eyes, beautifully golden, spoke so many words. Especially when they looked at you.

Cass lived with two sisters, Daniela, and Bela. You'd known the three for about as long as you'd known Cassandra. They were all similar in style, but they didn't stick out to you as much as the eldest did. It wasn't just her looks or the way she carried herself. You were drawn to her sensible demeanor. She simply knew what she was doing and exactly what she wanted. She was intimidating, yet enticing.

You always had troubles with fitting in until you met Cassandra and her family. They were unique but they felt like home, never judging you.

In a way, the Dimitrescu household was like a second home to you. You often stayed over when you got a break from college. You absolutely despised staying in the school dorms. Your roommate was insufferable. Your personalities and different living habits constantly clashed. It was just easier to stay with the sisters who you actually got along with.

They always made things interesting, not like most people. You've spent a few holidays with them even. You weren't very close with your own family after moving away, nor did you have any siblings growing up. It was fun with them. The way they constantly bickered with each other over the dumbest things. And they included you.

It's been a few weeks since you've been over. Mostly because of upcoming midterms, but also because of your growing guilt.

You'd always told yourself nothing would happen with Bela, as much as you wanted something to happen. You told yourself it was just a meaningless crush. Nothing more, nothing less. Even with all the glances you shared, her constant teasing of you. You didn't think you had a chance anyway. Not to mention, you felt like it was weird to have feelings for your best friend's sister. You thought she was out of your league. She was older, so sure of herself. You were in shock when something did happen, and Bela was the one to instigate it.

As usual you were over at the house, waiting for Cass to get off work. Daniela was out, leaving you and Bela alone.

That's when she kissed you. Not just a simple kiss, but one that was full of pent up desire. It was intense, after the awkward small talk and side eye glances. She knew how you felt, you made it so obvious. She noticed everything. The way you were constantly staring at her thinking you were being subtle, and how nervous and red faced you got at her teasing. But you never noticed how she was looking back. That passionate moment between you was cut short at the sound of Daniela's car pulling into the driveway. Bela pulled her lips from yours with a smirk. You were completely caught off guard and didn't know what to say. Yet she was so calm, acting as if nothing happened as Daniela came inside.

You ended up going home later that night, not saying a word about it to Cass. You could hardly believe it happened yourself. You couldn't get it off your mind. It felt so wrong yet so right at the same time.

Even three weeks later, you couldn't stop thinking about the interaction. It was just a kiss.

Your thoughts were later quelled at the sound of your phone. Cassandra texted, asking you to come over. You knew you couldn't avoid her forever, so you agree. You didn't want her to think you were cutting her off or something.

When you pull into the driveway you find Cassandra's car isn't there. You don't think too much of it as you head inside. But you notice Cass really wasn't there, only Bela.

"Well, look who it is." she taunts with a playful grin. "I was scared you'd avoid me forever.."

You're utterly confused. Cass was the one who asked you to come over, yet she's nowhere to be seen. "Where's everyone at?" you ask, completely avoiding the confrontation of what happened the last time you were over.

"Cass is at work for the next hour or so." She replies, "Daniela is over at a 'friends' house. So it's just us, little one."

That didn't make much sense. Why would Cass invite you over if she was at work? She could sense your confusion. "But I got a text...?"

"She left her phone at home by mistake," she giggles, "Sorry, I just couldn't help myself. I missed you, and she's the only one who has your number."

She was being so direct with you, unlike her usual teasing. She always left you questioning whether or not you were just being too hopeful.

"Why?" You ask. She laughs at your question. You were so visibly anxious, just standing there in the doorway awkwardly.

"You poor thing, so clueless." She teases. "Why don't we go to my room and I'll just show you why. Unless you can't handle it?"

Your heart almost stops. Her tone was so seductive, there's no way to misinterpret it this time. She was making her intentions known.

You put your fears aside and follow her to her bedroom. You'd stayed over many times but you'd never been in her private space. Even her room was beautiful. She had a queen sized bed, complimented with red and black satin bedding. Everything in there matched her aura perfectly.

You get comfortable on her mattress, removing your shoes and laying back. She soon joins you. "Comfy?"

Without answering, you act on impulse, pulling her in for a kiss. You're hoping you weren't reading too much into it. Your overthinking stops once she reciprocates, moving on top of you and bringing a hand up to cup your jaw. Her lips were so pleasingly soft, but her movements were rough. Her teeth took hold of your lower lip, teasingly tugging before diving back in and kissing you deeply.

You moan softly into her mouth as it goes on to be more heated. You start to get more secure beneath her, letting your hands wander up her back of her shirt.

"Mnn...finally gaining some confidence are we?" She pulls away smiling pridefully. "Why don't we spice things up a bit, little one? Be a good girl and strip for me."

Your face flushes once more but you don't hesitate to obey. Quickly, you remove your top, letting it fall to the floor.

"Such a pretty girl," she praises, "and you're mine, aren't you?" She watches proudly as you remove the remainder of your clothes, awaiting your answer.

"Yes ma'am...all yours." You were fully unsheathed for her. You prayed that you wouldn't be interrupted this time. You'd dreamed of this, never expecting it to become reality. But it was. You were bare, dripping on her bed, with her ready between your thighs.

She grins, seeing the anticipation in your eyes before pressing a few soft kisses to your clit. She was just teasing you with the heat of her breath.

"You want it?" Bela queries and you nod eagerly. She knew you wanted it, she just wanted you to say it. "Ask nicely." She urges.

You felt a bit skittish and on the spot. You're hesitant to speak the words she wants to hear aloud. But with a cruel pinch to your clit, your mouth opens, letting out a pained whine.

"P-please!" you cry as she keeps a tight squeeze on you. "Please what? Don't be shy, you can say it." She was thoroughly enjoying the way you were squirming.

"Please, I want you to eat my pussy.." You cave at her sadistic disciplining.

"There you go, lovely. Was that so hard?" She releases your clit, still grinning slyly. She loved the raw sounds you made when you were impelled. Along with that look of fear in your eyes. But as much as she loved tormenting you, she wanted to please you first. Your cunt was so wet and needy in front of her face.

"Your pretty pussy has been lonely lately, huh? You're such a needy little thing I can tell it's been a while since you've been touched." Despite her tantalization, knowing you were craving her so much turned her on greatly.

She finally gives in and plunges her face into your wet heat. The way you mewl drives her mad. Her tongue laps at every fold and crevice, wanting to taste every part of you.

She groans into you as she feels your hand desperately gripping her hair. You couldn't help it with the way she was devouring you. Every flick of her tongue was determined. She wanted to give you something memorable, so she'd stay on your mind always. She couldn't stand the feeling of you avoiding her. You were hers.

She sucks and laps at your clit furiously, she couldn't get enough of your sweet sounds. Your thighs clenched together so tightly against her as you writhed. Even more so when she spreads you further, licking at your most sensitive glands.

"F-fuck, gonna cum..." you whimper, your hips thrashing wildly. This only urges her to throw in her fingers. Her tongue continues in a gratifying pattern, while simultaneously finger fucking you into your orgasm.

You cream around her fingers, your walls convulsing as you reach your peaks. Your throat was dry from the heavy breathing and cries escaping it.

"Aww, what a mess," she taunts as she departs from you. "What do you say, hm?"

"T-thank you.." you manage to respond.

"Mhm, good girl. Maybe next time, I'll let you try and please me. Cass is going to be home soon. Don't worry though lovely, it'll be our secret."

mlist

#bela dimitrescu #bela x reader #bela dimitrescu x reader #resident evil 8 #re8 village #re8 #resident evil #resident evil x reader #wlw #fem reader #modern au #age g4p #smut #fanfiction

[justporo]

#56. Angry kisses

Oh yes - a good one! It became a little longer than I thought, oh oh. But I got into it while writing, so (just like Tav got into... stuff abfebgepi) Enjoy! I saw @leighsartworks216 do this kiss prompt thing btw and thought it might be a nice idea to slowly get back in the saddle after the holidays.

Pairing: Astarion/GN!Tav (You) | Wordcount: 1,2k | Warnings: light smut, biting MASTERLIST | AO3 | KISS PROMPTS

Lovebites

Astarion could really get you all worked up. That could be a good thing. Or it could be the cause for you to fully lose your marbles.

Before you had met him, you’d barely lost your temper. But something in the way you and Astarion and you connected allowed him to get under your skin like nobody else could have ever done. This meant he could usually quickly figure out what was wrong with you – or you with him for that matter. But gods be damned, someone that held your heart so closely in his delicate fingers sometimes only needed to squeeze it a little to bring your blood to a boil.

Your house was a mess all over. Neither of you were used to being domestic and quite frankly it was a never-ending effort to keep it all tidy.

You knew it had been your fault as well that everywhere was currently cluttered and chaotic but something in the way Astarion had brushed you off dismissively when you had pointed that out had annoyed you. Your fuse had been terribly short that day and you knew you should have let it slide but pettiness won.

You had randomly grabbed some of Astarion’s stuff and in a fit had hurled it at him while yelling at him. The rogue had dodged it easily which had made you even more angry.

What followed had been a screaming match. Up until you were standing right in front of him, your nose almost touching his as you stared at him, brows furrowed, pulse hammering. And the bastard had the audacity to let his gaze slip from your eyes to your lips.

Immediately you were made aware of how close you were to him, how heated your body felt because of the anger. You swallowed hard – as if standing so close to him and staring into his stupidly perfect face wasn’t enough already.

Astarion’s eyebrow twitched, and the corners of his mouth curled up into a smirk, realising the effect he had on you – godsdamned bloody bastard. His red eyes sparkled – posing a challenge.

“Gods, you’re so beautiful when you’re this mad at me”, he said haughtily while staring down at you. His lips stayed parted, tongue wandering over the edge of his teeth slightly, over one of his fangs. “And so delicious.”

The heat you’d felt in your chest immediately wandered down between your legs.

In a last ditch effort, you tried to conjure up anger again and pushed him away.

“Don’t make me bite you, you idiot,” you huffed. But the push had been weak and had merely caused Astarion to take a single small step back before he was right back in your face again.

“That would be a change for once, wouldn’t it? I’d like to see you try,” the vampire murmured back and leaned in dangerously close – until his lips were almost touching yours. And then he stopped. Your pulse was galloping and your body betrayed you even more when lust throbbed between your legs as you looked into your lovers eyes that promised you he’d find a way to let you work through all this pent up energy – and then some.

The teasing infuriated you even more.

With a frustrated groan you grabbed Astarion by his collar and pulled him to you forcefully to close the maddening gap between your bodies. His arms immediately wrapped around you.

The power with which you had pulled him to you had been surprising even to the rogue who struggled now to keep you both in balance. You stumbled back a few steps until you crashed into the nearest wall.

Meanwhile, your tongue had slipped into his mouth and was trying to gain dominance while you needed to press your body as closely against him as possible. The vampire moaned into your mouth, pressing you against the wall with his hips while placing both his hands next to your head on the wall. One of your hands was still clawing at his collar while the other had sneaked around his neck and was pulling his head further to yours.

Now that he had you up against a wall, you felt you were losing the upper hand. Not that you didn’t like the position you were currently in, but you were still mad at him – at least you thought you were.

You slid one leg around Astarion’s slender hips, and he immediately rewarded you by shifting them to allow for some delicious friction for the both of you. Both of you couldn’t help a moan wandering between your locked lips while you felt how badly you were both affected by this.

Simultaneously, you wanted to ride him into the ground until you both were unable of coherent thoughts while also wishing to be devoured whole by the vampire on top of you.

Neither of you had broken the kiss that had become sloppy while you writhed against your lover’s body. One of his hands had wandered down, over the leg wrapped around your waist, pulling it even higher and causing you to yelp into his mouth. He was squeezing your backside and by that making you rub against his growing arousal.

You were ready to just forgive and forget whatever had led you to this position in the first place if it only meant you could let Astarion unravel you – slowly or violently, you didn’t even care as heat consumed your whole body.

But then you felt how the corner of his mouth curled upwards and you saw the triumphant glint in his eyes while he ground his hips into yours once more, drawing a breathless sound from you unwillingly while his tongue licked up over your teeth.

That made some of your earlier anger rise up again. Acting on a whim, you grabbed the vampire’s face and deepened the kiss once more for a few moments, overwhelming the vampire. And then you caught his bottom lip firmly between your teeth and with a growl pulled while your hands clawed in his hair – hard.

Astarion whimpered slightly and pulled back reflexively, taking a step back, releasing you.

You were a bit stumped by your own action and stood there flushed and breathless, lust racing through you and hoped you hadn’t gone too far.

But the vampire was already grinning while rubbing his fingers over his bottom lip you’d bitten into.

“You naughty little minx,” he whispered while his gaze promised you he’d get you back for that.

“I told you, I would bite you,” you replied, emboldened by the way Astarion prowled closer again and you felt the tension between you had heightened even more.

“Yes. Yes, you did, you feisty thing,” the vampire said in a deep tone, looking at you from under his brows now. “Too bad for you though that that only spurs me on, my love.”

He moved to close the gap between you once more, but you decided to push your luck once more. With quick movements you jumped up into his arms, hoping he’d catch you.

And he did, despite almost losing balance.

Astarion looked up at you while softly shaking his head at you and your insolent behaviour.

“If that is so – take me to somewhere more comfortable and I promise I will bite you again”, you murmured and rolled your hips in his arms, emphasizing your point.

Astarion simply grinned up at you wolfishly, baring his fangs. And then he did as you had asked.

Tag list: @spacebarbarianweird @sunfire-ancunin @tragedybunny @dependsonthedream @tallymonster @magazzne @micropoe10 @aoirohi @my-bunny-prince @lumienyx @fayeriess @darlingxdragon @hereliesblackdragon @ayselluna

#astarion #baldur's gate 3 #astarion ancunin #fanfiction #astarion x tav #bg3 spoilers #baldur's gate iii #baldurs gate #astarion x mc #astarion x oc #astarion x you #astarion x reader #bg3

[writingsfromhome]

Dos and Don’ts III

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

Part 1 / 2 / 3 / 4

——————————————————

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I guess.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Too little too late,” Gray mutters.

“What?”

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

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

“Y/n don’t be difficult-“

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

“I’m not saying that-“

“Then what are you saying!?”

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

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

“I’m saying something needs to change.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

His voice raises as he talks.

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

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

“I shouldn’t have to!”

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

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

There, I’d said it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“They so do.” I reply.

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

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

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

“I will,” I accept his challenge.

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

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

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

“Are you heading home soon?” He asks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sure?” I respond.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Touché mon amie.”

“Okay I actually got that,” I nod.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Like what?”

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

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

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

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

“Uh yeah! Let’s see it!”

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

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

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

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

“Really?” He asks.

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

“You’re interested in it?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I happily oblige.

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

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

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

“If we did, we might still be doing this tonight, just as mates,” he points to between us. “Or you would have fallen in love with me and I would have sacrificed my music to raise our kids.”

“What!?” It’s so absurdly ridiculous that I nearly snort my wine. “Where did that comes from!?”

“Admit it,” he puffs out his chest. “That would have happened. And I’d be so committed-“

“Well you’re assuming that in a 4 year time-span we would get to the point of having kids. So firstly no, secondly who said you had to sacrifice your career?”

“I-“ he stops mid-sentence, looking into the distance.

“Exactly!” I shout. “You’ve got nothing. You’ve just made up a story that makes you sounds good and noble!”

“Fine,” he settles down. “Fine! We never meet and you end up with your Duran bloke and I end up a musician.”

“Is that all I’m reduced to?” I raise my brow. “Who I’m with?”

“No!” He leans between us to pat my leg. It tingles. “No I didn’t mean it like that. You’ll do great things. I just mean the person you end up with isn’t superstar Harry Styles.”

I roll my eyes, “I need more wine if I’m gonna be subjected to any more of this bullshit.”

“Bullshit?!”

“Mhm,” I pop a gummy into my mouth and ignore the look of shock on his face.

“Fine. Then tell me about your bullshit,” he raises his can. “What’s happening to make you so ferocious this morning.”

Oh god. I hold up a finger and shimmy forward for some more wine. I’d drank 2/3 of the bottle and I was definitely tipsy. Maybe I’ll just sip this one.

“Fine. If you want to hear it.”

“I do.”

“I got into a fight with Gray.”

He raises a brow, I continue.

“He’s upset with me and complaining that I work a lot and that he feels like I’m his flatmate!”

“Flatmate with benefits.”

“Shut up!” I groan. “Not the point.”

“Sorry!” He holds his hands up.

“I don’t think he realizes how much of my head is just Gray like, I’m always thinking about him, about what I could do for him and say to him just to make sure he feels seen and reassured and loved! You know I’ve asked you for half-days on Saturdays when you don’t have a lot going on-“

“Mhm,” he nods along.

“I’m like, making sure I’m being a good partner. And apparently he’s been upset and not saying anything.”

“The old silent on the home front.”

“Yes!” I nearly drip wine as I pump my hand. “Yes, on the home front he’s bloody broody and quiet. I knew something was on his mind but like always he’s tight lipped. Even when I asked him a week ago he said he’s just been working a lot. What a liar!”

I complain about how it felt to be iced out of my partner’s emotions and having to guess all the time.

“Then I find out he’s been talking to all our friends to get advice.” Harry raises his brows in judgement and leans back into the sofa, and the small gesture makes me feel so validated. I didn’t realize how much I needed a third-party to just listen to my side of things. Until now, I’d literally not had anyone to talk to about this especially since I avoided talking about work with Gray. I get misty eyed.

“And when we’re talking he’s like so-and-so said this as if I want to know. And!” Now I was on a roll. I put my glass down in fear of spilling it on the pristine sofa and get on my knees to emphasize my frustration. “And the girl he quoted? Get this, I met her—Rebecca—at a job I did like a year ago? And we got along fabulously and I invited her to this party we threw right because she was new to the city and all that. She met my other friends and she fit in so well they invited her the next event. I got her into the group and now she’s talking shit about me with my fiancé behind my back!”

“She’s probably got a thing for your man,” Harry suggests.

“Oh she definitely does!” I’m animated as I continue. “She so does! I’ve caught her making eyes at him before, and laughing a lot whenever he makes a joke. I even mentioned it to him once but he said he didn’t notice.”

“He probably didn’t,” Harry shrugs.

“I know, the male species is a wonder. You get big flirts like you and then otherwise they’re completely oblivious.”

“I’ll have you know when I was a teen, a girl literally gave me a valentine cupcake and I just thought—well I knew she liked to bake, so I thought she just had extras. I didn’t understand why she didn’t speak to me the rest of the year.”

“No way,” I laugh—a lot because the wine was definitely sloshing around in my head, but also I couldn’t imagine Harry being that aloof. “I guess it comes with the ego territory. Were you less of a jerk as a kid?”

His jaw drops. “You just called me a jerk right now. To my face.”

“I did,” I say with glee. I stand to get the full picture of an offended Harry. “And I don’t regret it. So? Were you nicer as a kid?”

“No I’m not answering until you take that back.”

“What! You are a jerk…sometimes! I’m not taking it back!”

“You have to take it back otherwise I will cut you off on the wine.”

I take a step back and stumble as he speaks. Which makes me laugh more. “I think I should cut back. I am a hot mess.”

“At least you’re laughing,” Harry stands too. “It’s world’s different from this morning.”

Just like telling someone not to think of an elephant, I think of the elephant.

“Noo no don’t do that!” Harry rushes towards me and bends down to look me in the eye. “I liked it when you were smiling just now c’mon.”

“Well you reminded me why I was so upset-“

“Can’t stay grumpy, just give me another smile. One smile! Small teeny tiny smile—there it is!”

I can’t help it with his face in mine and the way he’s putting on a voice to get me to smile my face splits in a grin.

“You’re soooo annoying!” I push him but unstable and drunk I fall backwards.

I don’t know what happens next but I’m on the floor looking up into Harry’s concerned face.

“Y/n? Y/n!?”

“Yeah,” my head pounds as I try to make sense of where I am.

“Fuck,” I hear Harry say. He moves away and the overhead light attacks my eyes so I squeeze them shut.

I hear him, panicked, on the phone.

“No!” I try to call out. “M’fine! Don’t even worry-“

“Stay down Y/N,” he’s back by my side. I try to prove to him that I’m okay and sit up but a few inches off the ground and my head feels like it’s full of bees.

“So many bees,” I murmur as I go back down, now a pillow behind my head.

A few minutes later Harry’s helping me up gently. I tell him I wanted to throw up and he helps me to the toilet where I do. Gah. Why did I drink so much.

“I think I’ll head home now,” I hear myself saying to Harry like I was miles away.

“No,” his hands are around my shoulder and holding me upright as we walk out. The lift increases my nausea but I keep my eyes shut.

“I’m going home now,” I tell Harry when we get outside.

“No you’re getting checked out.”

“No!” I shove him away and nearly topple over myself. Why did he have to boss me around all the time? “Stop telling me what to do! My head hurts I’m going home!”

He tries to grab my hand but I yank it off. “Stop! Just stop!”

“Y/n,” Harry’s voice is low and comforting as he gets down in my ear. He smells nice too. “You passed out and you have a headache we have to get you checked out.”

“You’re no fun,” I cross my arms but follow him, only because my headache is so bad. As we get in the car I close my eyes shut as the lights assault them. Harry doesn’t let me sleep on the ride home even though his body is warm and steady beside me. I barely know where I am.

Harry’s POV:

I keep telling myself she would most likely be fine, just like the doctor reassured me but it’s hard not to beat myself up.

I shouldn’t have let her get that drunk, especially upset. I shouldn’t have gotten in her space and caused her to tumble back. I should have done something else.

The guilt is added to when I think of how I spoke to the doctor, demanding they do every scan and not to skip any. I hated who I became sometimes, when I pulled the famous card, but I thought it was necessary right now. Even y/n would give me a pass for using it.

I can’t stop replaying the thud as her head hit the hardwood floor, her eyelids fluttering as I rushed to her, her slack face when she lost consciousness for a moment.

It’s been hours since we came in. The doctor finally heads my way.

“Mr. Styles, your girlfriend is alright,” he holds up his hands before I’m fully standing.

I may have had to say she was my girlfriend after they wouldn’t let me have any say tonight…

“She’ll be alright, you did the right thing getting her here right away.”

“But?”

“No but,” he smiles. “Obviously it’s serious she has a moderate concussion but if she doesn’t exasperate any symptoms—takes it easy the next couple weeks, she’ll be right as rain. We can discharge her once the neurologist confirms. She’s just finishing with another patient right now-“

“She should stay overnight,” I cut him off. His cheeriness was starting to irritate me I felt like he wasn’t taking this seriously enough.

“Oh well,” he laughs but I know I’m irritating him right back. “She will be alright. I can provide you and her with a followup plan-“

“Doctor,” I say. “She’s staying overnight. If I need to rent a bed I’ll do that, tell me what I need to do, but she should stay under observation. Get the care she deserves.”

He pursues his lips, and I wait for him to agree.

“Yep,” he sighs. “I’ll tell the nurse. Just follow me and we can sort the details.”

We do that, I even take a selfie for the nurse’s daughter which grates on the doctor’s nerves even more. He leaves shortly after.

I get y/n’s room and walk there slowly, wondering how to apologize. Ever since December we’ve been playing a game of tennis with words and tonight I felt both of us relax onto the same note. Then this.

She’s sleeping when I get to her. My watch says 1am. She looks peaceful and it hurts even more.

The truth was despite acting like I didn’t, I did like Y/N but she was complicated, and the more I tried to untangle her web the more sticky things became for both of us. I didn’t want to make more mistakes than I have in the past so I’d kept my distance. Even if it hurt both of us.

Tonight was good though. Until it wasn’t. This was why I shouldn’t blur lines. You would think I’d have learned that by now.

I step by her bed, hesitating. Someone has wiped the remains of her makeup off and she looks so much younger. Like a sleeping cherub. My heart gives a squeeze.

I push back a strand of her hair, my hand wanting to do something. I settle for taking her hand in mine, it’s not the first time I’ve held it but like it always does, a flood of warmth rushes through me.

I never understood Victorian romances until her; just touching her hand got my blood pumping.

With a stroke of my thumb over her knuckles, she stirs. I freeze.

Her eyes flicker open, “Hey?”

My voice disappears. There’s too much that I want to say and nothing I’m allowed to say. Maybe a sorry. I open my mouth but she squeezes my hand. I forgot I was still holding hers.

“So much for doing nothing huh?” She cracks a smile and it breaks the marble I’d become encased in. I laugh and collapse onto the sliver of the bed.

“We should never do nothing again.”

“Nope,” she smiles, closing her eyes again.

“Y/N I’m really sorry for tonight. I feel awful-“

Her mouth parts. She was asleep.

I want to sit here with her until she wakes again, until the doctors kick us out. Something about seeing her so vulnerable here makes me want to confess the thing that’s been lodged in my chest for a long time.

I release her hand and move away from the bed. This was dangerous. Maybe I could wait in the waiting room until she’s released. Then take her home.

Something vibrates. It’s not my phone, and then I notice the purse I’d brought with us. Y/N’s.

I peek inside for the phone and her fiancé’s face takes up the screen. He looks younger. And then I remember, it’s like stepping out of the fog this night had put me in and into reality.

I pick up.

“Y/N it’s nearly 2 in the morning just tell me you’re alright? You haven’t been answering your texts I-“

“Hi,” I clear my throat and the line goes dead silent. I decide to continue. “Hey uh this is Harry. Styles. Uhm, don’t panic or anything because she is okay but she’s in hospital and-“

“What?” He comes back with a boom. “Why is she there what happened? Which hospital?”

I tell him which one, explain she bumped her head and I had to take her here. That the doctors said she would recover and be herself again soon. He simply swears and tells me he’d be there soon.

This was Y/N’s life. This was the right thing to do. Still, I stay in the room with my head in my hands and think about the whole evening again and again.

“Just tell me the bloody room…I don’t care about the time…”

The voice travels through as doors open and close in the hall and I look out. Grayson. Like a pitbull. I can see him through the rectangular window demanding to see Y/N.

I open the swinging doors and his nostrils flare as he spots me.

“Why the hell is he allowed in and not me?” He continues his tirade. “Does hospital policy not matter when it comes to the rich and famous now? I want to see her doctor and-“

The nurse turns to me, annoyed but before she can ask the question the doctor is out.

“What’s all this? Do you know the time sir, please follow me and we can talk-“

“I don’t want to fucking follow you. I want him gone and I want to see my fiancee.”

Looks are exchanged between the doctor and the nurse, finally landing on me. I imagine what they’re thinking—just another homewrecking famous rockstar, do we tell the fiancé or act cool?

“He should be able to see her,” I say in an even tone. I can feel the eyes on me, especially the laser beams from Gray.

“I thought-“

“Okay. Visitor pass him and let him in,” the doctor cuts his nurse off as she stares at me. Maybe her daughter wouldn’t get that photo tonight after all, and instead be told to pick better role models. It doesn’t matter to me. Not tonight.

I watch Gray get sorted, watch him walk down and to Y/N’s room. To his fiancée’s room.

I wonder how he feels, fighting with her last night just for y/n to end up here tonight. I wonder if that’s why he was so vocal tonight—the guilt.

But I suspected he was the kind of man that called himself easy-going and only got this raucous when another man was threatening his public image. It was pretty clear the hospital staff thought we had some pseudo-relationship arrangement. I don’t think Duran was daft enough to miss that.

Plus, I’d been the one to bring her here not him.

With a big sigh I take my phone out to call a taxi. It was my turn to go home.

I text Y/N from the car, tell her to rest over the weekend and let me know how she feels Monday morning. She could take the whole week off if she wanted but I also knew her and knew she would try to come back asap.

I try to piece back the marble armour I wore before tonight, it’s ill-fitting and hurts to get on but I do it anyway. This was why I couldn’t be the person Y/N wanted me to be; I tried to mix parts of my life together and it would only end with shite.

Y/N’s POV:

I don’t know who this man in front of me was. Or actually, I hadn’t seen him a long time.

I’d been discharged from the hospital on Saturday morning with odd looks all around. Maybe because Harry brought me in? And ever since, Grayson has been doting on me. Doting.

“Did you want anything specific?” Gray stands at the foot of the bed, asking me what he should make me for breakfast. The last time he made me a special breakfast was…last summer?

“I wouldn’t say no to pancakes?” I reply. “I looove your chocolate chip pancakes.”

“I’ll get it started,” he walks over to kiss my temple and leaves.

The weirdest part is that I feel weird; I don’t know why but Gray doting on me like this made me feel claustrophobic and…weird!

I look out the window to the overcast sky. Same, I think. At least for a Sunday, it felt fitting.

I pick up my phone and check the last response from Harry. Since I got discharged he’d been texting me to see how I was feeling. I think he was feeling guilty even though I told him it wasn’t his fault.

I tried not to drink when I was upset because back in uni it led to some shitty situations but the other night I’d overstepped my rule and done this anyway. And paid for it. I should have known better. And after the absolute misery of yesterday’s aftermath—the migraine and the vertigo and the completely lack of appetite, I don’t think I’ll be doing that again. Ever.

Today I feel a lot better. I still have a headache and I’m looking forward to breakfast with my painkiller, but the light doesn’t hurt as much and the nausea only comes back when I do too much.

You: I’ll be back in no time. Feeling better

Harry: I want you to feel the best so I’m banning you from working until Wed. And that’s conditional on you feeling better

Y: Doc said I can resume a lowkey version of my life after 48hrs

H: I didn’t like that doc. take my advice instead

Y: when did you get your md

H: same time you got yours

Y: I have an md?

H: being stubborn 101

Y: your jokes are a lot better when you text

H: cuz you’re not distracted by my face

Y: ooookay I’m no longer giving you the platform byeee

He was sassy, apparently. I never got this side of him before.

I read through the convo again and smile. But it hits me that it sounded like flirting. And that would be incredibly inappropriate. So I shove my phone in my bedside drawer and inch out of bed to join Gray.

We spend the day talking about a lot, but not about what we should talk about. Which, with the way I was feeling, was fine by me. At the same time it felt like we were both politely playing a role neither of us could put our hearts into. It felt shitty.

Gray has a session around 4 and I crawl back into bed, putting on a romcom I’ve watched a million times for comfort.

My body feels heavy and it has nothing to do with the concussion. The last couple days and my current relationship with Gray casts a shadow over my thoughts. I felt like making any decision was like wading through quicksand and running away just sounded better.

I rub my temples, hoping like a genie’s lamp, I could get an omnipotent spirit cast out and grant me easy wishes. I’d wish for things to go back to normal, for my heart not to be such a wretched thing. For clarity.

I pick up my phone and scroll to the one person I had run away from and have missed since. I didn’t talk to her very often but I thought I could use her no-nonsense approach.

My mom frets when I tell her what had happened. She goes quiet as I tell her I’d gotten drunk to forget about the troubles in my relationship.

“Relationships go through a lot of phases. It’s like going through those cave tunnels all made of rock and you gotta squeeze really tight sometimes just to fit through and continue on.”

“That is an amazing comparison mom, but I don’t know if this is one of those times. It feels like Gray’s already given up on us.”

“Well it’s been a long time he’s waited.”

“But he never said. He never talked to me.”

She sighs. “Your Grayson sure is a contemplative son of a bitch isn’t he?”

I laugh a little too hard and feel a pulse in my head. “I know. But then today he was so dang sweet—since I got home. He was so overprotective. And he made me breakfast mom and it made me realize I haven’t had that Gray in a long time.”

She’s silent on the other end. She knew there was more. How did I ever think, as a teen, my mom didn’t understand me? I think I just never understood her.

“But it felt weird.” I continue. “I feel horrible for saying it but I felt weird!”

“Was there heart?” She asks gently.

There wasn’t.

That’s what it was. And my heart weeps. All those actions without feelings.

“Have you thought about coming home?” Mom asks when the silence stretches. She always asked and I was the worst daughter in the world for never going back. The last time was when I graduated, for 2 weeks in which my family drove me crazy and I had been crazy in love with Gray and eager to get back to him.

“Maybe,” I close my eyes and slide down into bed.

“Your brother’s new girlfriend reminds me of that friend you had where she came on our camping trip and cried the whole time? What was her name?”

“Deanna? Mom I stayed friends with her all through high school! She was just very anxious.”

“I know! His girlfriend’s always darting about, jumping at tiny things. Reminds me of her.”

“Well Jace better be treating her right.”

“He does,” mom’s voice raises. “You should see them together. It’s cute but they’re still teenaged loves so I try not to break his bubble too much.”

Mom had definitely relaxed a lot since I was a teen. She had practically chased my first boyfriend away.

“Remember your first boyfriend?” She asks and I shout how I was remembering that too. We end up talking about old memories, and I feel a little more known and a little less lonely when I hang up.

Gray and I order takeout and I try to watch a movie with him but the strain on my eyes gets too much. I tell him I was going to bed and insist that he stays and finishes. I didn’t feel like watching him play boyfriend.

I’m eager to get back to work, for next week when I can go to Scotland for the MV. The eagerness comes from guilt but I carry both as I fall asleep.

***

I feel like a kid at Disneyland. Or maybe a Disney adult. Either way, I’m blown away getting to watch this MV come to life.

It’s long hours, a lot of waiting, and some shouting. But everything else is magic.

I came back to work last Thursday and other than an ear-splitting headache on the flight and a low-grade one when I stared at a screen too long, I was on my way to normal. When I got back to work Harry kept making excuses for me so I could work from the office but I refused to be treated differently and eventually he relented.

“It’s so freaking cold!” I jump up and down beside Harry by the cliffside. He’s just wrapped up a scene and the crew was taking a look at the footage to see if they needed anything more in this spot.

“Why don’t you put on more layers? Do you want an extra coat the crew might have-“

“No!” I continue wriggling around. “I’m heading back to the car in a few. This is an amazing view.”

“Isn’t it,” Harry turns to the sea that’s churning away much like my own heart these days. It feels calming to see it physically somewhere else.

We stand in silence except for my occasional teeth chattering and stare out to the view.

“Have you seen more of it?” Harry motions to the cameras. “What do you think?”

On this trip I’ve been giving my honest opinion, and I know I’ve offended Harry at least once but I didn’t come all the way here for my dream experience only to stroke his ego.

I tell him my take. We talk about the overall storyline about belonging and sacrifice until we’re interrupted with two hands holding out hot teas.

“You both looked cold,” the woman says. She was another assistant on set and I’m not sure what to do being waited on as a PA myself.

“Oh, thank you!” I make sure she knows I appreciate it. “That’s…that’s super kind thanks!”

She throws us both a smile and I stare at my cup, the heat tingling on my cold fingertips.

“Friendship and belonging yeah,” Harry starts up again.

“Yeah but also I like how you—your character, whatever, knows when it’s time to leave for his better growth. Sacrifice with his friend and sacrifice with the only home he’s known. Plus that’s a comfortable outfit.”

I tap a button on Harry’s jumpsuit. He grins. “You can have it.”

“I would be drowning in that you’re a lot taller.”

“We can have it altered,” he says. A shiver runs through me at we. I blame it on the cold.

I sip the tea now that it’s not scalding and find it’s a lot cooler. The open air, I guess.

“So you really love all this,” Harry says. “You weren’t joking about that excitement.”

“No I told you!” I flash to the night we did “nothing” which feels long ago. “I have a vivid imagination when it comes to music and I spent any spare courses on film so now I can interpret the heck out of any song and music video like my life depends on it.”

“We should get you back there,” he motions to the crew. “Get you on board.”

“Would I get the little clipboard and clapper?”

“Yeah!”

“Goals,” I sigh.

Little did I know, by Saturday as we’re filming our final scene one of the crew members hands me the clapper. He tells me I’m supposed to cut the final scene. I stare at him, thinking I misheard.

The clapboard hangs between us. He shakes it a little and I take it. It’s heavier than I thought.

“Harry asked if you can cut for the final scene, see the man behind the camera? He’ll look to you and give you the nod. Then you step in front and just do the thing.”

“Oh…” I’m still staring at the thing in my hand. My palms feel sweaty like it’s going to crash to the ground and break in two but that thought gets me to hold it closer. “Thanks.”

“Yep,” the guy walks away and I stare at the scene being filmed. Slowly I walk closer to the cameraman and he glances at me, notices the clapper, and smiles holding up two fingers.

He whispers something to someone beside him and they change the lighting. Harry walks off “screen” and I try to catch his eye to show him what I had. We catch it briefly and he winks before walking back onto the screen.

Oh my god! My heart is racing as I hold it in my hands. I had to chill. Or I’m gonna make a mess of things. It’s just a clapperboard and you’re saying one word!

Two minutes. I manage to calm down enough and when I get the signal I step in front of the camera and, as I see it later on, with the biggest grin on my face I clap down and yell “cut!”

Harry lets out a whoop and the crew cheers as the filming wraps up. I’m sure my eyes are wide as saucers as I go to Harry. He puts an arm around me and pulls me in, laughing because I tell him my heart is racing and how does he do tours when just that made me shaky.

“It gets easier,” we walk now with his arm around my shoulder. “One day you’ll be behind the camera shouting at me to move places.”

“Oooh getting to boss you around and get paid for it?” I look up at him and my breath catches because he’s handsome at every bloody angle. “Sign me up.”

He let me go and gives me a few tsks. Then he gets his phone and tells me to pose with the clapper and I do it happily. The picture shows a grinning girl with pure delight on her face.

“I’ll put that as your contact photo right,” Harry says as he gets into a jacket. “And that way at least when you call me with bad news I get to see a smile beforehand.”

“Har har,” I roll my eyes but I don’t hate the idea.

A lot of the crew decide to go out for drinks and dinner and Harry passes but I decide to go. I’d met some friendly faces and I would miss working with them, miss the overall energy, when we got back to London.

As I fall asleep that night, full and content, I realize I hadn’t texted Gray all day. I wake to check my phone and see he’d sent a text a few hours ago.

Sorry I was out for lunch with the crew. Babe it was sooooo fun I can’t wait to show you pictures when I get home.

I read the rest of his message asking how I was. I tell him my headache was gone and ask him about his week but I’ve fallen asleep before he can respond.

***

The morning I have to leave for tour I wake up way too early. Too much nervous excitement. I’d already brushed and checked my luggage was packed before crawling back into bed waiting for Gray to wake.

I watch him sleep, my eyes following the familiar contours of his face. We’d been making an effort at rebuilding the relationship since we agreed we at least had to give it a try after I got home from Scotland a month ago. On one hand it feels like starting a new relationship and also breathing easier because we were both on the same page. On the other, we’d finally started planning the wedding!

I would miss him, nearly 3 weeks away which is the longest we’ve been apart since we got together. Then I’d be home for 2 weeks, and away for the last week before Harry finishes with a couple shows in London. It was going to be epic and crazy as exhausted as I’ve been.

I huddle close to Gray and he stirs slightly but I kiss his neck to wake him.

“Hey,” he mumbles in his sleep.

“Morning,” I press another kiss to his face.

“What time?” He moves his head to kiss me back.

“Hmmm half past 7?”

He grumbles about it being so early but it stops shortly after with both of my legs on either side of him and my hair curtaining our faces.

“M’gonna miss your snooty face,” I say with another kiss. He finally opens his eyes and his hand comes up to hold my chin.

“I’ll be the one here missing you.”

“I’ll call every chance I get.”

“You’ll get to see so many new cities,” he says.

“Barely but I’m gonna try to make the most of it,” the travel schedule was hectic but I know there were a couple slower days I could use to explore cities. If I wasn’t completely exhausted.

“You’ll have a lot of fun,” he pushes my hair behind my ear.

“Remember Josie’s coming this weekend to stay the week.” Gray’s sister had taken the opportunity of a semi-empty flat to stay here while she studied for mid-terms. I had encouraged it so Gray felt less lonely.

“She’s gonna drive me crazy,” he huffs.

“Just behave,” I warn him.

“I don’t know how,” he smiles, rolling us around so he’s on top and showing me what misbehaving means. I don’t mind it a bit.

After a quick shower together we head out to the airport, Harry offered to pick me up on his way but I wanted to make sure I spent as much time with Gray as possible so he doesn’t feel like I was leaving him like before. I hoped he knew, at least, the effort I was making.

***

Stockholm, Hamburg, Oslo, and Copenhagen in one week. It was exhilarating and exhausting and hectic and so fulfilling.

I had seen Harry at small shows before but on the big stage he has a presence with a capital P. It’s amazing watching him perform and dance and be charming all over. He could be cheeky yet command the crowd at the same time. And despite all these sides he’s never inauthentic.

For the first time I’m able to take somewhat of a backseat. He already had his manager, tour manager, stylist, and tour chef with him to manage most aspects I would regularly. I became sort of an extra hand when I wasn’t having sit-down hours. That’s what I called the times I was sitting on the laptop sorting out future timelines for Harry’s life (and my wedding).

But I loved it. I’d pick a cafe close to our hotel and spend a few hours working. I’d call Gray during these times and if he was free we’d catch up on all I saw and he’d share stories with me until Josie crashed the conversation with stories of her own.

My eye bags require more concealer than usual and my body begs for nutrition but otherwise I love every second.

I’m back from my sit-down hours and get off the lift. Harry and his team were placed in the same hotel just down the hall from each other. As I approach my own door one of Harry’s band mates rushes out of his door looking stressed.

“He’s in a mood,” she huffs. “Don’t go in there.”

“Did something happen?” I ask.

She shrugs, “he gets this way. Usually at the start of tour I don’t know why. Kinda snappy just…give him space.”

I do as she says but the next morning as we wait to board our early flight to Paris he continues to be a dick to everyone.

“Maybe take a nap on the flight Haz,” one of his bandmates suggest. “We’re all bloody tired don’t be such a grump.”

“I don’t need a bloody nap stop treating me like a child.”

“What to do when you act like one.”

“You know what-“

“Woah hey c’mon.”

I startle at the commotion, I was starting to doze off but Harry rushing out of his seat and someone else stepping between him and Mitch wakes me entirely.

“Let’s stand there get some space.” Niji recommends.

Everyone follows the group away and it’s Harry, myself, and my bag left.

He glances at me, “Don’t you start too.”

“I wasn’t…”

“I could see it in your face.”

“What the hell? I was just napping I don’t even know what’s going on except that you really are being a dick.”

“There you go!” He points. “I knew you wanted to say it.”

“Guess I’m joining the others…” I pick up my bag and walk to everyone else. They’re all venting their frustrations for Harry and comfort me that he was an asshole to everyone.

It gets worse on the flight when our pilot announces we couldn’t land in Paris.

“What’s going on?” I ask our hostess.

“The weather, we apologize for the inconvenience folks but there is high winds and a lot of fog so it’s not safe to fly.”

“I have a show tonight,” Harry stands and starts to advance on the poor woman. “I need to be in Paris before 4 where are we landing?!”

“Sir we’ll be landing in the Lille airport. This is good because we’re only a few hours from the city-“

“For fuck’s sake,” Harry runs his hand through his hair.

“I understand,” the woman looks back at me and I nod, letting her know I got it.

“Harry we’ll only be delayed by a few hours-“

“I don’t have time for a few hours. We need to set up and run tests in Paris! We were supposed to be there yesterday but somebody booked the wrong shit!”

It was true, his tour manager had booked us for Monday morning rather than Sunday morning but at the time it hadn’t been a big deal since the show was 7 on Monday and we got an extra day to relax. Now it made things more stressful.

“Fuck this,” Harry mutters. The other members on the plane roll their eyes and put on headphones, sighing and looking out the window. It was obvious to everyone but Harry that this was just a minor setback.

I decide to be the idiot who enters the lion’s cage. Harry sits in the back of the plane jiggling his leg and trying to connect his phone to service.

“Are you trying to call Morgan?” I ask.

“No I’m trying to call the pope.”

“He might be sleeping.”

He looks up at me and if I wasn’t aware of how stressed he was I would laugh. Confused doesn’t even cover his expression.

“I don’t have time for this right now, I need to get to the show-“

“We have like a five hour wiggle room it’s just a minor-“

“I can’t perform thrown off like this!”

“There’s no reason to be thrown off!” I try to keep my volume contained but I can feel eyes on my back.

“I don’t need you right now just go.”

“So I guess the one week rule is true.” I mutter.

“What’s that?” He asks with an i-dare-you expression.

“I said the one week rule of you being an asshole on tour, I guess that was true. I wish someone told me I would have skipped it.”

“Well you could have skipped the whole thing and nobody would notice.”

His comeback is muttered but cuts like a machete and I feel like the words were physically slung at me. I stand there stunned, my heart sinking as he continues to fiddle with his phone until the call connects.

The shock wears off quickly leaving me with the familiar heat of anger. This was how I reacted to Harry and his dickish ways. How dare he? Why the fuck does he think it’s okay to treat me like this when he wanted? I clench my fist as his voice rises with Morgan.

But beneath the anger is a raw hurt, his words struck a nerve. The same one Gray had struck once. I was replaceable, and all the efforts I’ve put into my career were unimportant and unappreciated.

I snatch the phone from Harry, annoyed at hearing him talk at Morgan.

“Hey Morgan it’s Y/N, yeah it’s a minor inconvenience but if you can get a bus or something to the airport it should be…”

I look to the hostess and she flashes me two fingers and a shake of her hand.

“About 2 hours to get into the city.” I finish. I nod along to Morgan’s questions and repeat details back. “Yeah just text me on my phone, not Harry’s. We’ll sort this out.”

“Thank you y/n. I’m really glad you’re there today.”

The words are a feather on a pile of nails, it’s nice to hear but Harry’s cruel words still ring in my ear.

I hand the phone back to him, expecting a thank you or an apology, but he just takes it and slinks down in his seat.

“It’s her isn’t it?” Sarah gets up on her seat on her knees to look back at Harry. I pause as I walk up the aisle. Is was who?

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Harry mutters with his eyes glued to his screen.

“It is,” someone else says.

“Who?” Claire asks.

“Don’t take his mood personally,” Sarah says to me. “Paris is a touchy city for him.”

“Do you guys ever shut up?” Harry asks.

“No that’s why we’re your crew,” Mitch responds.

“We understand,” Sarah continues. Who was she talking about!? “Just don’t take it out on us. It’s not nice.”

Harry doesn’t respond but I sense a deflating happening on his side. Sarah’s words had gotten through to him but they’d just made me super curious.

I get filled in as we wait at the airport for our bus—Morgan had saved the day.

I hear about Harry’s french lover and how he got his heart broken a couple years ago. How the last time they were in France he had disappeared for a day and they’re all sure he visited her. How he can’t go to Paris without getting in a mood, either because he doesn’t get to see her or he’s anxious about seeing her.

“That’s like a city-specific booty-call.”

“Kinda,” Sarah laughs. “But I think he grew really attached to her so it’s a bit—he’s coming back.”

Harry stomps back to where we are, a tray of coffee in his hands. His team accepts it without a word. The world’s most famous non-verbal apology.

I watch him wearily. I still wanted a verbal apology from him, was that crazy? What he said was deeply hurtful. And hearing about his French lover makes me feel a way that I don’t like so I shut it out. I stick to the anger instead. It was easier.

He starts to warm up as we board the bus, cracking jokes with his band. I pick a seat near the front and stay there with my headphones. Aside from answering Morgan’s texts I pretend to be asleep. Eventually I do.

Someone flicks my hat, “C’mon sleepyhead! We’re in the city of love.”

“Wha?” There’s a crick in my neck and I feel rusty. But Harry’s right, we’d landed in Paris. He hovers above my seat with a jovial smile but it dies the longer I don’t return it. Serves him right. He doesn’t get to be cruel and wipe it away with coffee and a joke.

He gets the hint and boards off. I grab the last of the bags and join the group in the lobby where Morgan greets Harry like his long lost son.

“The trials aren’t over just yet,” he cringes. “I don’t know why Paris keeps fucking with me but we’re booked tight for rooms.”

“What does that mean?” Harry asks.

“Uhm well,” Morgan clears his throat. “The hotel overbooked. We have 3 rooms between the 8 of us. Luckily I have a mate who lives in town so I’ll crash at his. The rest of you need to share.”

“Morgan you’re fucking with me,” someone groans.

“No I’m sorry. I booked 5 with an en-suite but they screwed up. They’re refunding us half—I fought for that at least. I can use that to put others in another hotel if you’d like but so far I’ve only managed one room with two doubles.”

“Claire and I can share,” Sarah says.

“Good, Mitch you good with the boys?”

“I’ve slept in worse places.”

“Uh y/n…would you like me to book you an extra room somewhere? I don’t want you to be far from the team-“

“She’ll stay with me.” Harry says. “I’m performing tonight and then we’re moving to Amsterdam tomorrow afternoon so…”

I squirm a little as all eyes fall to me. Cool. Casual. “Sure.”

“Sorted! Let’s get these bags up and out of the way. I’ll have a car waiting down here in a half hour so you can all freshen up and meet me again.”

We trudge along and get off on our respective floors.

“The truth is,” Harry says as we scan ourselves into our room. “I’m probably not even gonna use the bed for the night so it’s all yours.”

“Oh,” I look around the room. It’s got a french touch and a lush queen in the middle. I could deal with not having to share it. I’m sure my fiancé back home would be happier too. Even though I want to ask why I don’t. “Okay.”

We settle our things in silence and a part of me wants to break it and start talking about the ride and Paris but I’m still not over his earlier behaviour so I continue giving the bare minimum. He doesn’t seem to care.

We head off for tests and I end up falling asleep in one of the booths. The tiredness was really creeping up. I could sleep through all the noise the band was making.

A particularly loud screeching from feedback wakes me up. I look down to the group, everyone’s mostly broken up while tech crew tapes down some wires and connects equipment. Harry sits on the edge of the stage, swinging his feet and texting away at his phone. He’s different from the grump this morning. He’s lighter.

Charlie catches me looking and waves, I wave back. There’s a pit in my stomach that grows heavier as the day passes into night.

Paris is not the loudest but super engaged. Everyone has some reference to Harry adorned on their clothing or their face and I can tell Harry has a special connection to the group.

“And finally,” Harry says into the mic. “This is a special song for my French friends. Tonight has been a blessing and I want to merci beaucoup for showing up!”

The crowd cheers as the intro to his song comes on. I listen to the lyrics for the first time since hearing the song last year and connect the dots to what Sarah said earlier. Maybe this was the girl. Maybe this was why he wasn’t sleeping at the hotel tonight.

As we’re leaving the venue and I’m going through a mental list of everything we could have forgotten, we spot a familiar face around back.

“Riley?” Mitch spots him first. “Is that you mate?”

“Hey,” Riley like, Harry’s old assistant Riley is standing with a couple other people who are having a smoke. He squashes his and greets the band who apparently still feel fondly when it comes to him. He looks the exact same but my feelings towards him are curdled after knowing what he’s like and how he left us high and dry.

That leaves Harry and I still hovering by the entrance alone, staring at the reunion by the time Riley comes up to us. I guess the band knew his friends because they get to chatting. I remember then, Riley ditched Harry to work for one of his friends. Must be a small world.

“Why the long face you two, c’mon still not holding a grudge are we?”

“Riley,” Harry addresses him. I stay silent, watching Riley from where I stand behind Harry.

“Nice to see Y/N’s still sticking around. How are you liking tour life?”

“Did you come to the show?” I find my voice.

“Yeah,” he nods all friendly like this was casual and he’s done nothing wrong ever. “I might be biased because I worked for the guy but Harry Styles is one of my top artist. And I’m in Paris until the Fall so why not come support him.”

“Well,” Harry says in the same deadpan voice. “Thanks for the support Riley.”

Riley glances over at him, smug. He knows he’s annoying Harry. So maybe I wasn’t the only one who got enjoyment out of doing that.

“Oh c’mon you’re still upset with me jumping ship? It’s been months! Y/N we’re cool right-“

Riley moves to walk past Harry and to me but Harry side-steps to stay in his way. I look at Harry. So does Riley, confusion sliding away to amusement.

“Oh I see,” he steps back, arms crossed. “Harry you sly dog you did it again.”

“We’re going now,” Harry says. “Try not to show up at any other shows.”

Harry tried to leave and I take the few steps to follow but Riley starts again.

“So y/n you fell for his trick too? I’m disappointed I thought you were immune.” Riley continues. “How’d he get you to the bedroom? Lots of booze? Or did you not even make it to the bedroom? Was it being treated like shit that did it for you?”

“What?” Now in the middle, I look between the two, wondering how this conversation took such a bizarre turn.

“You have some obsession with me Riley?” Harry steps back towards us. “Because you sure enjoy making up stories in your head with me starring in it. Don’t rope y/n into them either.”

“Not all stories,” Riley stays smug. “Some of them I’ve seen with my own eyes.”

They had to be talking about the last PA. The story Riley told me. Which means he thinks I…

“You really should watch what you talk about,” Harry reminds him.

Riley turns his attention to me, “Y/N I thought I warned you good enough. But I guess you put out as easily as the last one.”

“Riley whatever drama you’re trying to-“

“Mate,” Harry gets in Riley’s face so he can’t even look at me. I go quiet. “Get the fuck out of my sight before I get security to kick you out permanently.”

“Being the knight in shining armour doesn’t really suit you Haz,” Riley says. With one final judgemental look thrown my way he walks away. I have to lay a hand on Harry’s arm just to keep him from lunging at him but as soon as my hand makes contact he brushes me away.

This whole interaction was ego-bruising. “Why did he think-“

“Ignore him.” Harry cuts me off, his back still to me. His band, having watched the final scene unfold, now awkwardly shuffles back to us. “You okay?”

“Yeah but why-“

“Good.”

He cuts me off from asking anything and I don’t get to push because the group tries to defuse the situation by changing the subject. That includes the girls inviting me for drinks at their favourite parisian place. Harry disappears and so do those answers.

I try to poke whether the girls at dinner knew anything about his last PA but they barely met her. So I’m forced to eat oysters when they find out I’d never had them and the subject changes quickly to new and other things.

“So oysters thumbs up or down?” I’m asked as I slowly eat another.

“Weird texture…ehh?” I hover my thumb in the middle.

“Well too bad your partner—what’s his name again?” They ask. I tell her. “Ooh good name. Too bad Grayson isn’t here to cash in on all these oysters.”

They laugh and I think I’m not drunk enough to laugh as much with.

It’s the wee hours of the morning by the time we get back to the hotel. I crash alone as soon as my head hits the pillow.

***

After three weeks of tour I’m ecstatic to get back home. I wanted to sleep in the same bed for more than a day, I wanted a shower with even temperature, and I wanted a home-cooked meal.

And I wanted Gray.

I even catch an earlier flight—the night before rather than the next morning. I build up surprising Gray so much that I end up being the one who’s surprised when I come home to an empty flat.

I double check I’d set my phone back to the right time but it’s nearly 11. He must be out with friends, not a client.

I want to call him but still hold the idea of a surprise so I take a shower instead, put a load of laundry in, and make myself a sandwich. I crawl into bed at 1, still no Gray.

I end up tapping through our friends’ stories and find him in one. At least I knew where he was. But 2/3 photos I can find of him, Bex is standing too close for comfort.

I can tell by the photos there’s nothing going on. From his end. The most contact they have is his arm around her shoulder but for some reason all of this makes me mad. I’d broken it down to him that he couldn’t talk with people who had a thing for him because they would only give biased advice. But he didn’t listen. He said I was reading into it too much. And here she was, gazing up at him in every damn photo.

I hate that I wasn’t even home for a couple hours and already found something to annoy me.

I must have fallen asleep shortly after because I wake to poking on my side.

“Y/n? Is that really you? Y/n? Y/n?”

Gray.

“Hi,” I turn in bed. “I’m home early.”

“Shit!” He stands and sways back slightly. Wow, he was pissed. I hadn’t seen him this inebriated in a hot minute. “You didn’t say!”

“I know I-“

“I thought I imagined you.”

“Nope all here,” I grit my teeth. Why was I annoyed at my boyfriend for having a life, I scold myself.

Why is he so drunk and is this a new thing or did he only get this way cuz I’m not around?

“You finally came back to me,” he slurs. He smells like a brewery as he climbs into bed and I wish I could force a shower on him but I get swept up in his arms. “Hey you were right by the way.”

“About?”

“About.”

“Gray! What was I right about?”

“I’m getting to it! You. Were right. About Bex.”

“H-how do you know?” Weird coincidence. Or not?

“Sheshe she tried to kiss me!” He falls back laughing in bed. “I said nooo cuz I have a fiancée. Y/N. Oops. She was maaad.”

My heart drops. I knew it. That little bitch! And she had to go and try to kiss my man when he’s drunk! I officially didn’t like her. And the story itself adds to my irritation.

“Wow. Crazy. I’m tired as hell so I’m going to bed.”

I turn and leave my back to Gray. I didn’t want to see him this drunk, this chill about someone I warned him about trying to kiss him.

He splays on the bed where he is, draping an arm over me and pretty soon I hear his even breathing. That annoys me too, that he could fall asleep so quick. His arm is a weight over my body and I feel like I’m sinking into the bed and out of view.

***

It’s like Grayson and I have forgotten how to live with each other.

What starts out as minor annoyances turn into bickering pretty quickly. Our 1 bedroom flat begins to feel cramped and I desperately try to cling onto the idea of us because I can’t fathom us fizzling out like this but my fingernails are raw from scraping threads.

Work is the easiest it’s been in a while. With no set working hours I just spend a few hours everyday doing admin and running errands. Otherwise, unless somebody calls me I’m free.

I thought it would be great. So much free time with Gray, we could continue planning the wedding and catch up again. But he busies himself with work, and when we go on dates he doesn’t make much of an effort to talk. It’s like getting to know him all over again except he’s a broodier version of himself. It makes me mad and I end up picking fights.

I book brunch with some of the girls on the last Saturday I’m home, thinking it might help to have space from Gray and see other people. I thought everything would be fine. And it is, on a surface level—they treat me perfectly normal.

Except the only time they gave me space to talk about myself went something like this,

“So Y/N how are you? Busy touring how is that?”

“Oh yeah it was great! Really taxing but fulfilling too. I went to so many cities I haven’t visited even though I’ve been in London for like 7 years? Copenhagen was one of my fave-

“Ooh. Yeah I really want to visit Copenhagen this summer.”

“Oh I love Copenhagen…”

And I was officially asked out of sharing my own life. The rest of brunch was me reacting to everyone else’s stories and having the subject change quickly after I brought up anything about myself. When I mentioned Gray casually, I could feel the judgement. It’s like they were waiting on me to complain about him so they could pounce. It’s a weird and tiring energy.

As we all say our goodbyes I manage to catch Rebecca alone.

“Hey Bex,” I stop her on the edge of the group. “I know we haven’t talked much lately but I just want to say I don’t appreciate the moves you’re making on Gray.”

She raises a brow, “moves?”

“He told me you tried to kiss him. Those kinds of moves.”

Her face pinches. “Well someone has to make some.”

“Excuse me?” She tries to walk away but I rush to step in front of her.

“It’s no secret you and Gray are on the road to a breakup,” she has the audacity to look judgey in that moment and I want to slap the look off her face.

“What the fuck do you know about me and Gray? Back. Off.”

“Hey what’s going on?” One of our other friends drifts towards us and I notice they’re all looking our way.

“Just a friendly chat,” I say with sarcasm you can’t miss. At the same time Bex responds, “Y/n’s being delusional.”

I was going to get physical, I step back towards her but our friends get between us. I think they knew uni me, and knew I wasn’t afraid of confrontation.

“What the fuck y/n?” I was so tired of the look on their faces, like I was crazy.

“She tried to kiss Gray!” I reveal. “Last week! I’m just telling her to back off and I have every right to!”

It’s news to them. They turn to Bex who’s fidgeting with her sweater as a flush creeps up her neck.

“I-I he did! He tried to kiss me!”

I snort, “I don’t have time for your bullshit Rebecca. I’ve gotta go.”

“Oh yeah we all know you don’t have time y/n, you’re so busy these days.”

“Bex!” Someone scolds her.

“Somebody better teach her hand to keep her hand over her mouth because I will get through all of you if it means getting to her. You know you guys don’t know shit about my life. And you don’t even care to these days! Just because Gray told his sob side you guys treat me like-like shit!”

“That’s not true-“

“It is! You don’t even know my side! And I don’t care to explain because you lot are supposed to be our friends, not the judge and jury of my relationship.”

They stare blankly at me and nobody denies it so I continue: “I try so hard to stay involved in your lives knowing I can’t make it to half of our parties, I’m always messaging you guys and trying to stay on top of your socials to know what’s going on in your lives. I feel like I make all the effort and I’m just made the pariah.”

It feels good getting it off my chest. It feels amazing. I feel like I’m breathing an actual lungful of air now.

“We’re sorry if we made you feel that way.” I look at who’s said this. One of my oldest friends from uni. I scoff.

“You’re sorry if you made me feel that way?! I just said you did!”

“Sorry,” she says, quieter.

“Y’know it’s…it’s disappointing. I thought, when we became best friends first year of uni nothing could shake the bond we had. Apparently a man you met 3 years ago who vented to you about your best friend was just the thing.” All their faces are small and nobody makes eye contact with me. “Anyway, I do have to go. I have an appointment. Let’s not do this again.”

I walk away, proud of myself for saying what I had to and getting it off my chest. For sticking up for myself.

But the farther away I get, the more the adrenaline crashes through me and I end up walking onto the tube on shaky legs and collapsing in my seat. The reality of what’s happened falls into my lap and I see a bunch of burned bridges.

I spend a couple extra hours out after my appointment. I’m not going anywhere in particular, I let my feet carry me through the city as my mind continues to whir.

Harry texts me, asking me to stop by his place before I fly back for tour tomorrow evening. Apparently the concierge needed all his mail picked up and he needed a few of the items. It annoys me that he waited last minute to ask.

When I get home at 4, Gray’s vacuuming the flat. He stops it when I come in.

“Hey.”

“Hey.”

“How was brunch?”

It’s the way he asks. I know he knows. Which means a group chat exists with our friends and him without me. It feels like another betrayal. Who keeps their partner out deliberately? Who opens up their relationship like a hockey net, open for anyone to take shots at?

“Why’re you asking?” I feel another fight coming.

“I can’t ask you how brunch went?”

“Did you hear something? Let me guess, did Bex snitch?”

“No, chill out why would Bex snitch?”

“Grayson,” I look at him deadpan. “Don’t bullshit me. If you have any respect for me, which I know now is not a lot, don’t bullshit me.”

He sighs but doesn’t say anything more. Doesn’t lie and doesn’t tell the truth.

“So?” I ask. “Is there like a group chat or something?”

“Let’s just drop it-“

“No! I’m not dropping this when you brought it up. So is there? Did you disrespect me in front of all our friends by talking shit, and then do it even more by allowing them to ice me out in a group chat you knew I wasn’t part of?”

He doesn’t respond. My temper flares.

“The hurtful part isn’t even not being part of the chat, it’s that you didn’t tell me.”

It makes sense now. I was always initiating birthday messages there or privately, thinking everyone was forgetting to wish each other. Now I know I was public fool number one keeping that convo alive when they were probably all wishing each other elsewhere. God. I was an idiot!

“Look I’m sorry y/n, after you stopped showing up to things they just made a new one so they don’t bother you.”

“Oh is that why? Because that was active up until a few months ago. So according to the timeline it was probably when you fucked up and talked shit about me to all our friends and they decided I was a bitch and they should all cancel me! Well I hope you’re happy Gray!”

“I’m not! I’m sorry I didn’t realize-“

“Stop!” I slam my hand into the wall and it hurts harder than I anticipated but I bite back the pain. “Just admit it! You want to paint me as the bad guy so fucking hard, and I am in some ways I know I’m far from perfect Gray! But instead of talking to me like normal fucking people do, you just iced me out and then isolated me from the only friends I’ve ever made in this stupid fucking city!”

I can’t help the tears now even though I don’t want to cry. I want to rage and scream and throw things about but the hurt is bigger and it bubbles over the pot and sears my heart.

I leave my shopping bags where I’ve dropped them and walk back out of the door before he can come up with a response. I couldn’t stand to look at his face. He’s betrayed me over and over and the whole time I was desperately trying to show him I hadn’t changed and I loved him.

I walk the 40 minute to Harry’s and the early evening air helps me learn how to breathe again. I take in gulps of it and try not to cry. I didn’t want to waste tears on Gray and my stupid friends. I didn’t want to do any of this! I just wanted to press pause on my whole damn life and take a nap.

Outside his building I pull out my phone and make sure I don’t look crazed. My hand is killing me and I ignore the bruising blooming fresh.

The concierge spots me just as I enter, and we make small talk about Harry on tour and his last few shows that would happen in London. I make a note to mention to Harry to send him tickets—apparently his niece listened to him.

He helps me load a cart with Harry’s mail and take it upstairs.

It had been over a month since I’d been in here and it’s weird that it feels comforting. Or maybe that was just after two weeks of feeling like a stranger at home.

Harry’s words on the plane echo back to me. Not that I was appreciated here either.

If there was ever a time to go back home to the States, it would be now. But that felt like running away. I had to sort my life out here before I made any rash decisions.

With a sigh I dump the paper onto the coffee table. After sorting what looked like bills from letters from miscellaneous I spot the two envelopes Harry wanted and put it to the side. I open the boxes next and locate his custom orthopaedic inserts he asked me to grab too.

I take the extra mail to my office to sort out. In the familiar closed quarters where I’d spent too much time in the last year rolling through a hundred phases, my feelings edge out of me. I try to wipe the tears and continue on but I end up pathetically sat over on the chair crying until I can barely breathe.

It’s pathetic because this is the first space I’ve felt I had the space to cry. And it was where I worked. Where, apparently, I wouldn’t even be missed.

New tears. Less breaths.

“Get it the fuck together,” I say between gasps. “That’s. Enough.”

Through my own self-talk I manage to calm down enough to finish the work. It’s half past 8 by the time I get back to the main living area. I get water to rehydrate myself and stay sitting on the couch staring into space for another ten minutes. I don’t think I had any more tears to cry. Just a rock in place of my heart and another bigger one attached to my ankle.

“Okay,” I finally get the courage to head home.

The end isn’t big and explosive. It’s a simple statement: I think we both know what needs to be done now.

I don’t fight him this time. I have no fight left in me. I just nod.

“I’ll sleep on the couch and still drop you off tomorrow,” he reassures me.

“Just sleep in bed,” I couldn’t even muster enough energy for expression. My flat tone is how I felt. “You don’t fit on the couch. And I’ll get myself to the airport.”

“No I’ll take you. I’ve already made the arrangements-“

“You don’t have to worry about me anymore Gray,” I say. He looks crestfallen and it irks me that he does. I didn’t want him to be sad, it was ridiculous but it was.

“Well I’ll take you anyway.” He says then turns back to the TV.

I wash the day off and make sure everything is packed for my early flight tomorrow. As I lay in bed alone I realize this might be the last time I ever sleep here. Like this. I would have to move all my shit out. Oh god, the wedding. I’d have to cancel my dress shopping dates and the cake testing, the invites we were still designing.

We’d only told our friends it was going to be a winter wedding, I’m glad we never gave them a date. Nobody had marked their calendars. Nothing about us would been permanent.

I look down at the simple ring on my hand. Everything but that.

I keep it on.

I’m still awake when Gray comes to bed but I pretend to sleep. My mind can’t stop making lists to answer: what now.

I’m in a fugue state all night and the only thing that clears the fog is the rays of sunshine peeking through the blinds in the morning. I hadn’t slept a wink.

Quiet, so I don’t wake Gray, I get up and dressed. I order a taxi and try not to linger on the hurt of doing this alone. Of Gray waking up to an empty bed.

The flight to Madrid is a couple hours and I miraculously nap through it. Everyone is happy to see me when I get back, especially when I present them with snacks they’d all said they missed from home while we were on tour. With them in hand, I’m an angel in their eyes.

I hand Harry his mail and he stops me. His eyes don’t stop examining my face.

“What happened to your hand?” He asks.

I’d picked up a bandaging kit and ice pack at the airport and with the help of Youtube, wrapped it up. It had started to bruise even worse but I couldn’t be arsed to deal with it even though it hurt. Nothing a few painkillers couldn’t fix.

“I accidentally got it caught in a door,” I lie easily. I had practiced. “It’s nothing.”

“Did you get it checked?”

“No.”

“Make sure you do, tonight’s show.”

“Sure. It’s really nothing though.”

“You sure?” He asks. His gaze is unnerving.

“Mhm,” I nod.

He’s silent, eyes scanning my face. Right as I decide I couldn’t take the scrutiny he asks, “Why were you crying last night?”

I stare, unsure what kind of trick he was playing.

“Sorry.” He laughs to himself. “I have one of those uh, motion sensor cameras in the entryway. I turn it on while I’m away so it sends like, automatic clips if there’s movement. I saw you come in and leave.”

“Oh.” Shit. Think fast. Think fast. “I uhm, got into it with some friends I had a meal with. Y’know…they were being a bit icy cuz of what they’ve heard. I’m over it though.”

“Yeah?” His eyes flicker down to my hand.

“Yeah.” I hold his green eyes for a moment, to reassure him I’m okay. I don’t know why he cares, maybe because I looked like a right mess last night as I left. How embarrassing. But I do my best acting job ever.

Satisfied, he lets me go. I return to the group asking for updates and any stories they wanted to share. Before long I’m laughing along and creeping out of my depressed mood. But something heavier still lingers.

***

TAGLIST: @boomitsallie1 @indierockgirrl @ndunad @jerseygirlinca @sunshinemoonsposts @ninasw0rld @love-letters-to-uranus @mayamonroem @sassamanda77

#writingsfromhome #harry styles x reader #harry styles fic #harry styles #harry styles fanfic #harry styles imagine #fic #harry styles angst #harry styles series #dos and donts #harry styles au #like I’m actually annoyed I had to split this up #because it’s supposed to get more interesting #ugh tumblr and its word limit… #musician!harry #well excited to finish the final part tho

[copperbadge]

Hello, Mr. Badge, I seem to remember that you once posted about your processes and systems for staying organized in life with Excel spreadsheets etc. I’ve been struggling a lot with depression and executive dysfunction issues and don’t want it to impact my work.

Do you use the same processes at work? I get overwhelmed with the amount of documentation we have and the exceptions to the rules in our processes.

I'm so sorry you're struggling! It's really rough, and the more complicated the task feels, the more fraught it seems, the harder it is to even get a start. I feel that hard.

As for organizing work like my home life....well, it's sort of the same. I don't make a strong distinction between life and work simply because a lot of what needs organizing in my life IS my work, so it's tough to talk about them separately.

For example, I use Google Tasks to build a to-do list each day, but that to-do list starts with "stuff I'll do before work" then "shower" then all my work stuff, then "evening" and then all the stuff to do after work, ending with "7pm chores" (because I have a lot of stuff to do right around 7pm, which I need to post about elsewhere). Then the stuff I've pushed off to next day is below that, and that just bumps up the next morning. What's important isn't really how I keep the list, but that I keep it in a way that is constantly accessible, and I've trained myself to 1. put everything on it, even stuff like "grocery shop" and 2. check it whenever I feel lost. I don't find google calendars very helpful, however, so while work makes me use one for meetings, everything else goes on a calendar I made in Google Sheets that I'm just super used to by now.

It sounds like you're having a fairly specific issue, which may not even be related to your mental health (though assuredly the mental health issues aren't helping). If you have a lot of confusing documentation and exceptions in the stuff you do at work, that can be legit stressful even for someone who isn't dealing with other stuff, so I just want you to know that this may not only be a You Problem. My problem is usually the opposite, in that I'm often the first person doing something, or the only person who's done it in a while, so there's no documentation at all. But when I do have documentation I often will simply rewrite it.

After all, just because you have a handbook doesn't mean you have to use it. You can copy it over into another document and make yourself a step-by-step guide and/or a checklist. Like, I do our holiday cards every year, and my "HOLIDAY CARDS" document says "Here's the first thing you do, here's the second, do this before going past that, check this before asking for that". Literally at one point the document says "Stop. Before you go any further, do this step. Even if you don't understand why, do this step" because in the past I've disregarded that instruction ("Why on earth would I do it this way?") and lived to regret it.

Making the guide really, really sucks. Often it will take me four or five passes at a project before my guide is comprehensive (this is my fifth year doing the holiday card project and the document still has some steps missing at the end). But once you have it, it's invaluable, and often in the past I've found other people want my guides because they're fairly clear and precise about what needs doing when. For example, you might say, "Open the file and move column B to in front of column A. NOTE: THERE IS ONE EXCEPTION, THIS IS THE EXCEPTION." Or "Once you've saved the file, save a second copy to your backup folder so you can go back to it if you delete something you shouldn't. Stop and check: is this file from before or after October? If after, remember, you have to also rename it." If you find that there's a mistake you make frequently, figure out what would stop you from making it and add that in.

(We had a guy at work whose last name was VERY long and Italian, and so when I was working phones he got a special entry in the directory document I made -- the first line was all his directory info and the second line was just the phonetic pronunciation of his last name. He found out, which I had never intended him to do, and lost his shit laughing. "No wonder you're the only one who gets it right!")

So my recommendation to you is to create your own handbook, your own templates, and your own way of doing things and just slip that back into the system you have at work. Draw a diagram by hand if you need a flow chart. My approach to all my organizational issues has always been "What would make me do this correctly / prevent me from doing that thing wrong / remind me what to do / make it easier for me to start".

I think of this nowadays as the "Take the cupboard doors off" school of organizing, because to really make full use of my kitchen in a way that I liked, I had to take some of the cupboard doors off. It looks messier and kind of cheap, but it's actually a much more organized system now, and who's in my kitchen other than me?

#sam has adhd #adhd #organizing

[tangerinesgirl]

Turfucken

(gif credit to Sony Pictures on tenor. can someone please make some HD GIFs from this movie, I suck at making them 😭)

**SPOILERS FOR THANKSGIVING (2023)**

AFAB!Reader x Sheriff Eric Newlon

Word count: 1.1k

Rating: explicit, 18+, no minors

Warnings: smut, feeding/food play/sitophilia, pregnancy, cream pie, daddy kink, some silly jokes, age gap but reader is legal

Summary: Sheriff Newlon is preparing for the best Thanksgiving yet, you have other plans. Set after the Black Friday Massacre but before the Thanksgiving the following year. Reader uses she/her pronouns.

You were greeted by the smell of sage and onion, cranberries and roasted potatoes before you even walked through the door. Eric liked to be well prepared for Thanksgiving every year, his favourite holiday. This year he wanted it to be the best yet, he had all sorts of new recipes to try, and you weren’t complaining.

As you walked through the door and unwrapped your scarf you heard him summoning you in the kitchen “Babe! Come here, you have got to try this!”

You throw your keys in the ceramic pot with a satisfying clink as you walk into the kitchen. Eric was practically dancing around the kitchen; thanksgiving themed apron and oven mitts on, removing a pot of cranberry sauce off the stove. He removed his mitts and slammed them down on the counter, a very small act but he made it look so hot. His hair disheveled from the heat of the kitchen, he shook his head to remove the stray hair that landed on his forehead.

He grabbed a spoon from the drawer and dipped it into the sauce, he blew on it to cool it down and beckoned for you to try it with a raise of an eyebrow and a look down at the spoon. You take the utensil and lick it clean with a pop. It was unlike any cranberry sauce you have eaten. Usually no one bats an eyelid at the sauce at Thanksgiving dinner, it always tastes the same. But not this one, it was sweet and sour with the perfect amount of umami.

“Holy shit what did you put in it, crack?”, you say, immediately going in for seconds.

“Ah ah no double dipping! And yes I put cocaine in the sauce, pros of my job”. You were pretty sure he was joking, but it was hard to tell the past year, ever since the Black Friday Massacre he was like a totally different person, and you fell for him, hard. You fooled around a lot, but never anything more, but you liked to test the water occasionally, maybe today is one of those days. It was difficult for him to get over Amanda, which was totally valid to you, she was your friend too and you were in this revenge plot together. You knew his plans this year and you both want it to be perfect.

You both were quite the town gossip, people kind of knew something was going on between the two of you, but your age gap of 32 years was extreme for a lot of people. You were perfectly within legal age though, and it was none of their business. You couldn’t help but admit it was kind of a turn on for you though, being a slut, and for the soon to be serial killer. 

The kitchen counters are covered with food, with foil on the top to keep warm, you think he’s been cooking all day while you were at work. You sit down on the kitchen island and admire the sight of him dashing around the kitchen, making sure everything is turned off.

He reaches into a dish of roast potatoes with his hands and puts some stuffing and sauce on the top and holds it out to you. You go in for a bite but he pulls back and smirks. You drag him towards you with his apron, your legs spread embracing him and passionately kiss him, his stubble tickling your face.

He still has the potato in his hand and stuffs it into your mouth between kisses. You put on a show and moan while you eat the best roast potato of your life. You grab his wrist and lick his fingers clean, looking him dead in the eye as you do so. He watches you, deciding his next move.

He walks to the counter and uncovers a whole roast turkey from behind him. You walk over too and watch him carve it, he gives you the first piece. After you eat it, you pull on his hair and whisper in his ear, “I want you to stuff me like that turkey, put a baby in me, or two, just call me a turducken… well, more like a turfucken really”. He laughs, but you see his erection, clearly turned on by feeding you and enjoying yourself.

He suddenly snaps and slams you into the kitchen island, empty pans flying across the room. He kisses you wildly, his hands roaming your body frantically. You remove his apron and his trousers as he removes your underwear from under your dress. He grabs your hands around your back, making you turn around so you’re bending over the island.

He slams inside you, impatient, like a man starved. You moan at the sudden intrusion, he is larger than average and always hurts so good as he reaches to your cervix. He pulls on your hair and you arch your back as he thrusts into you manically, the B word clearly a turn on for him. You cling onto the side of the island for dear life.

He stops and turns you around, kissing and nibbling on your neck. He lifts you up and walks you to the dining room table, and puts you down, facing him. He strokes your belly gently and says, “when I’m finished with you, I want you to stay put and lift your hips up. I can’t wait for you to grow so large and make everyone think you’re pregnant with quadruplets, be the talk of the town and make people on the street talk shit about us. And when I catch them I’ll put them in their place, as I’m the fucking town Sheriff ”, you are taken aback at his commands but god it was so hot, and whisper a “yes daddy”.

"Good girl", he starts pushing inside you again, the table shaking with the weight. He leans on the wall behind you to go even deeper inside you. You’re both close, you could have come at his words alone, so it didn’t take much to send you over the edge. He stops and you keep him inside you, wrapping your legs around his waist. He moans and strains as he unloads inside you, you can feel him releasing stream after stream, there’s a lot and it takes a while for him to stop, some of it leaks onto the table. He gives you some to try on his fingers that still taste of cranberry sauce. He stays inside you a little bit after he finishes, stroking your belly and looking into your eyes. You move a bit further down the table so you can lift your hips quicker as he pulls out of you. He watches you lift your body, nods, and leaves. He comes back later with a towel, some water, and a plate of trimmings to share.

If this is the sex before the John Carver plan, you can't wait for what’s to come next.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Editors note: I was going to include a pigs in blanket joke at the end but it turns out that's only a British thing and not a Thanksgiving food?? You learn something new every day.

#thanksgiving movie spoilers #thanksgiving movie #thanksgiving #patrick dempsey #sheriff newlon #eric newlon #sheriff eric newlon #sheriff newlon x reader #fanfic #eric newlon x reader #john carver x reader #john carver #slashers #slasher fic #horror

[azulock]

Day four it is! Shidou's drabbles really have like the hightest wordcounts, this one I had to cut stuff out and it's still big. They are the only ones to break into 900 ewords, go figure.

summary. when you spend long enough trying to hit on someone, but they are just too dense, you gotta start appealing to cheap shots. For Shidou, the cheap shot comes with a Christmas flavor, cause who knows, maybe Santa Claus could ignore how he is on the naughty list and give him what he wanted here.

pairing. Shidou Ryusei x Reader

wordcount. 932 words

4. Under The Mistletoe - Shidou Ryusei

A gush of warmth hit Shidou the minute he stepped out of the snowy night outside and entered the large house. Its vast living room filled with people made it hard for him to tell if the warmth was from the heating or from the sheer number of bodies. Honestly, he was a bit thrown off at how full this Christmas party was. It was held by one of the club's board members - at what was his winter home, gaudy as fuck.

When Shidou got the invitation, he really didn't plan on attending. What made him change his mind, though, was when he heard you would be there. You were part of the team's medical department, and he'd been trying to hit on you for a couple of weeks now. Trying being the operative word, because you were so immensely dense that he was wondering if you were a robot or something. Not that he would stop if you were, but he was kind of running out of excuses to talk to you.

This would also be the first time he saw you outside a work setting, he'd never heard of you going to any of the work events so far. So, this was his chance to test if you were just way too professional, and maybe see if you'd be a friendly drunk and give him a hand there. Great, now he just had to find you in this sea of people.

It didn't take long for him to spot you, drinking with a group of people and laughing about something. He wormed his way into the conversation and from there on worked to spend most of the party around you, hoping that he could get at least a moment with you alone. By this point, he'd probably make it happen if it just didn't naturally.

You were tipsy, not drunk but happy, friendly. It was a welcomed change from your typical serious demeanor. Not that he disliked the usual you, but now at least you were responding to him better. And soon enough you were both alone sitting at a window nook away from the crowd, but you were still damn dense. Fuck it, he'd have to take matters in his own hands.

"I almost had to slap someone for this, stupid people standing in my fucking way," he grunted, coming to sit back down at your side as you watched the snow fall outside.

"Careful that you don't punch someone important by mistake," you laughed, looking back at him and taking the beer he offered you and clinking your bottles together before taking a swing.

"Hey, I'm not that stupid," Shidou protested, pouting in your direction for a moment.

"But you are that crazy," you laughed again, nudging him with your shoulder before you turned back to the window, leaning forward to watch the movement of the cars in the entrance below. "Fuck, look at all those expensive cars outside, do you imagine how crazy dangerous those sports cars are in the snow?"

That was the moment Shidou saw his chance. If you were that blind, maybe he could get a little help from the holiday spirit to make things move along. When he went to get your beers, he snatched a mistletoe from one of the garlands and figured a way to just glue it to the arch over the nook you were on.

"Oh, doctors, so worried all the time," he snickered, long arm stretched as he glued the mistletoe in place without you noticing. "Do you wanna take one of these for a ride and find out?"

"No, thanks, I wanna keep my life after I leave this place," you sneered.

"Oh, you got anything planned after here?"

"Not really," you shrugged, turning back to him. "I'm not an energetic sports star like you, I'm boring, I'll go home."

"Well, I could help you change that," he responded, shooting you a mischievous smile.

"Sure," you laughed, closing your eyes and relaxing against the window.

"Hey," Shidou started, too impatient to wait for you to notice the thing on your own, "did you notice we are under a mistletoe?"

"What? No, we aren't, I'd have noticed that," you said, eyes snapping open and turning towards the arch above you. "Hmmm, that looks out of place."

"You are thinking too much, come on, you know what we gotta do," Shidou tried to distract you, leaning forward and invading your space.

"There is no garland here," you muttered, moving around him and turning to look at where the mistletoe connected before turning back to him. "Hey, that's stuck with gum. Ryusei, was this you?"

"Me? Nonsense."

"You know, if you wanted to kiss me, you just had to ask," you laughed, leaning in closer with a tipsy smile.

"Ask?" He couldn't help but laugh at your words, not even noticing when you got closer. "This is what I've been trying to do the whole nig-"

You silenced him by with a kiss, soft lips molding into his own. It started off soft, but quickly it turned more passionate, his tongue finding its way into your mouth as his large hand held your face in place while you braced yourself on his shoulders. After so long, he was finally getting what he wanted, and it tasted so much better than he could imagine.

"Oh," you blurted out the minute you had to break the kiss for air, "I thought you were just messing with me."

Holy fuck, you were the very definition of dense. Good thing he liked you anyway.

shout out to: @fivenightsatwhoreville @minarinnn @loser-vxbez @pinksodacan

#ryusei shido x reader #ryusei shidou x reader #shidou ryusei x reader #ryusei shidou #bllk x reader #blue lock x reader #blue christmas event

[callofdudes]

Was thinking of this from the platonic ghost headcanon

Simon doesn't like taking leave because he has nothing to go home to. No family, nothing. He rents his house out to people who need it over the years he's gone. So when you both go on leave you invite him to stay with you. Needless to say you have a good time.

Could you be able to do a head canon on what him and konig would get up to during their time off

Platonic of course please 😊😊

I just want some bff ghost and könig stuff

These are taking me forever to write. I apologize in advance! 🫡 This is a lot longer than I originally anticipated. Apologies for any spelling mistakes.

A little look into their first time spending leave with you.

So like I had said on a previous post, Ghost has nothing to go home to. Nothing but graves burying family history. Each member of the Riley family locked away in silence. He doesn't like being alone at his house. Despite the fact that he relishes his alone time on base. He can't be alone in his home. And usually there is someone living in it anyway.

Ghost is constantly looking over his shoulder and jumping at the slightest sound. It's a nightmare to be shaken awake when your house is settling at night. So he just started trying to get Price to let him skip leave.

Of course, as expected this almost never works. Just to get Simon off the base and into fresh territory Price started to have Simon over for leave. He'd make up his guest bedroom and he'd make sure to accompany Ghost throughout. And this worked. Simon enjoyed the extra time he got with his captain when not in a life or death situation.

And then you came along. And so did the rest of the 141. They each had families and lives that they could go back to. Loved ones they could kiss and hold to escape the horrors that got their hearts racing every day.

Ghost was well aware you and him were friends, but he hadn't expected you to ask him on leave with you. He was slightly taken aback, sitting in the cafeteria and you just suddenly asked.

"Want to go on leave with me?"

Simon paused. "What?"

"You know. Christmas, finally we get leave on a holiday, how rare is that? I don't want you spending it all alone."

Ghost shrugged. "It doesn't matter. I don't really like holidays anyway." He continues to play with his food absentmindedly. You reached over the table and grab his hand, finally getting him to look at you. "Come on lieutenant. I know you don't want to be alone."

"And what makes you think that?"

"You go on leave with Price."

Ghost shrugged. He tried to pull away but you tugged back and stared him down. "Let me rephrase. I want to spend Christmas with you lieutenant."

Ghost sighed. "Alright sergeant. If that's what you want."

At first you'd thought he'd forgotten because he hadn't brought it up for the next week. He went about his duties as per usual and fixed everything so that his duties would be easily tended to while he was away. You were a little worried but when you saw Ghost walking toward the HELO with his large duffle bag and backpack you smiled.

Ghost threw his stuff in and sat down next to you. "Where are we going sergeant?"

Wherever you live, he's probably only ever been there for a routine mission if at all. But when you take him back to your home he surprisingly happy.

"Come on. Your bedroom is across the hall." He gives you the hint of a smile and you allow him into the spare bedroom. "It's all yours. Make yourself comfy. I'll make us something to eat yeah?"

You're set on showing Ghost around. You'd assumed that he'd stay in his room and brood to depressing music or something but after the first day and sorting himself out he was actually very social.

Well good morning!" You cheered when he tromped down the stairs in his pajamas. "Sergeant."

"Ah ah, none of that. It's strictly Y/N. Should I stick with Ghost or is Simon ok on leave?" He gave you a funny look before shrugging. "Simon's fine." He started to go through all your cupboards until he inevitably found the tea. He put on the kettle and slumped into one of the seats at the kitchen table. "Still tied?"

"Jet lag."

"Alright. Is your stomach ok for food?"

"Mhm."

Mr "I don't like holidays" turns his attitude right around in no time. You set aside a time just to go for a drive and show him all the Christmas decorations. He's leaning against the passenger side window just watching everything go by. He doesn't say much but you can see in his eyes that what you're showing him is holding his attention.

"Want to get a treat, walk the park?"

Unsurprisingly Simon loves going on walks. He always goes on walks with Price, but he enjoys walking with you. Going down to one of the natural parks and strolling with a drink or some kind of treat. He'll look around and take it all in. The silence, the quiet stir of the trees in the breeze. The leaves on said trees.

He likes listening to you talk. He goes the whole walk just listening to you talk, putting input in where he thinks he should. And you both enjoy it.

When you get home Simon is exhausted. He flops on the couch and turns on some mindless show while you get something to eat. "Simon! Food." You pass by the living room when he doesn't respond and smile when you see Simon curled up on the couch.

"Ok bud." You'll carefully pull the blanket on the couch over him and turn off the TV. You make sure you have soft music playing so that when he wakes up it won't dead quiet and go about your activities.

And Simon is passed out. He almost sleeps the whole evening. When he wakes up he's quick to come find you. He stalks into the kitchen and sees you at the table humming away to the music. He walks over and bends over and places his forehead on your shoulder. "Well good evening." You chime.

The first three days pass like that and you're astounded by Simon. He's so uptight on base, holding a status, a place above the others. Always reminding the inferiors of his high position but off base he doesn't have to. He even removes his mask for the entire afternoon in place of a medical mask. You were happy when you saw him come down, messy blonde hair showing an a few scars along his temples. "Look whose awake." He hums and goes for the tea as if it's ritual by now.

You felt honored when Simon came down like that. At least his entire face wasn't covered like he was ready for the next plague. He felt you with a portion of his face and that made you incredibly proud.

You make sure you're not locked in the house for too long. You always notice how Simon seems to relax more into the homey atmosphere after a morning run or something activity inducing.

"So in my family, every Christmas, we do a puzzle. That ok with you?" Simon loves puzzles. And he's good at them. You'll be moving and he'll snatch a piece out of your hand and slide it into place effortlessly in a spot you hadn't even seen. You got three puzzles done with how quickly you and Simon were able to complete them.

"Will you do the honors?" You smirked, handing him the last piece of the puzzle. "Sure." He scoffs and places it down. You smile widely. "Woohoo!" You cheer and raise your hands up and your flooded with joy when Simon high-fives your hands. "There we go!" And the joy in his eyes. Your not fabricating it. He's genuinely happy.

Two days before Christmas things shifted slightly. "So, I'm going to give you a heads up." Simon hummed while scrolling through his phone. "My family will be coming over tomorrow. They're going to be staying in the basement and spending all tomorrow and Christmas with us ok?" Simon is very hesitant. "And I know that you don't know them. They know you're here and I've informed them to give you all the space you need ok?"

Simon sighs. "ok."

"Ok. Just remember Simon that room is yours. If you need to get away at any time you can leave. There is no wrong or right time, we all understand."

"You won't be upset?"

"Simon. They're family, your the guest. You come first right now. Ok?"

You weren't surprised when Simon starts to go back into his shell. When you give him the heads-up they'll be there in thirty minutes he goes up to his room and comes back out with his plain skull painted balaclava on. His eyes are worried and hesitant but you stick at his side.

"Mum, dad, this is -" "This is lieutenant Ghost Riley." Ghost is straight and firm as if he's meeting a new transfer officer. He shakes your parents hands firmly which somewhat worries you. Simon is stiff because he's shaking. Once your parents come in a long with cousins and any children, you pull him aside. You look up into Simon's eyes and clasp his hands tightly. "They're ok. Remember, leave whenever you want and for however long you want."

Despite the reassurance Simon does his best to stay at your side. Your parents do seem a little weary of the giant skulking man. But they remain kind.

"Hey, your Ghost! Aren't you!" A little girl, maybe nine asks when Simon sits down. You pause. You look back at Simon when Simon looks at you. You smirk sheepishly. "Sorry Lt. Had to tell them my stories with good ol' Lt."

Ghost huffs. "Yes. I am."

"Is it true you took down twelve guys with a machete and tear gas?"

"Ok! I did not tell you that? Where did you hear that one?" You frown and look over at a slightly older boy who hides behind your cousin. Simon huffs a sort of laugh only you'd catch. "Yeah. I did."

You're beyond proud of Simon. He only goes to his room once for a few minutes just to calm down and recollect himself. But he sticks with you. You make him some tea and get him settled at the table. While your family engages him in more conversation than you'd first anticipated Simon makes it through most of it. Only dodging a few questions. "Do you have a spouse? How is your family?" It took a little discreet nudging before you managed to get your family off the topic of his personal life.

The kids were interested in him a lot and you were happy they didn't see him as scary.

That night after dinner Simon was exhausted. Just before he went into his room you turned him back and hugged him tightly. "Thank you Simon." He hums and hugs you back. "They're nice. Like you." And that is all you ever wanted to hear.

You and Simon are the first two awake and Simon actually tells you he's going to go out before breakfast. You're happy he's leaving on his own and wish him good luck. He takes his backpack but you really don't think much on it. When he comes back a couple hours later you're all awake. "Welcome back!" You holler.

Simon walks right upstairs and closes his door. You frown but won't push him on it. Bad sleep? Your family question it but you just push them off. "Possibly bad sleep. It can happen. Just let him do his thing."

Simon comes back down another hour later and acts as if nothing happened. He nods respectfully to your family and tap your hand. You smile and nod. "I missed breakfast." "Oh no worries. Put this aside for you. Let me know if you need more." You hand him a plate and he's off to the table in a confident stride.

When the kids get antsy you volunteer to take them down to the arcade. Simon comes. He's on a roll with his socialization. He keeps his hands in his pockets and examines most of the games with little interest. That is until your nephew grabs his shirt and tugs. "Can you do the shooting game with me?" You smile when Simon contemplated it. "Want me to kick your butt?"

Your family watches as Simon kicks your family in this shooting game. Racking up points and tickets effortlessly. "Y/N, give it a go." Your dad urges. "I dunno. I'm not as good as Lt." Your grab the rather heavy plastic gun and aim it at the screen. "Good form sergeant." "Learned from the best." Chaos ensues.

"Ghost! That was my shot!" You knock into him and attempt to push him but he swings right back like a battering ram and sends you flying to the ground. You gasp in pain when you hit the ground only to laugh a second later. "Should have seen that coming." Simon finishes beating your score before bending down and picking you up. "You did good."

"Not as good as you."

"Never. Your either better than, or worse than. You will never be like me."

"Harsh." You teased. He shrugs.

Same thing happened with ping pong ball.

You tossed the ball into the air and lightly tossed it. When it crossed Simon's side he wacked it so hard it zipped part your head and lodged itself in the wall. "Ghost!" You scold. "Sorry. Force of habit."

After the arcade Simon goes up to his room and doesn't come back down until dinner. He takes the seat at the end of the table near you and pulled his hoodie up so he can shadow his face when he pulls his mask up. When you notice his thigh begin to bounce you tap his arm and give him a nod. Gently reminding him he can go. But he pushes through once again and finishes his plate.

"Is it time for presents!?" The kids run to the living room and you can't help laughing. "Yes it is." You see Simon going up to his room and nod. You thought so. You all gathered around the living room and start talking.

You hear the stairs creak and look back up to see Simon hesitantly standing at the bottom step. And in his arms are four neatly wrapped presents. your jaw drops. "Simon..." You can feel tears in your eyes and you move over on the couch to give him room. Simon has never done Christmas in his life but he hopes he's got it down.

He gets the younger ones a big Lego set that they are all excited to put together when they see it. He gets your parents some nice candles and house decorations. And you. He was shaking when he gave you yours. Hardly noticable with how stiff he was but his eyes were focused on something else in the room.

When you open it your shocked. It's a framed photo of you and the 141, the one in Price's office you always stared at when you saw it because you all looked so awesome. ⬇️

(You're somewhere in there, you can be Alejandro I don't know😂)

He pulls a smaller gift from his pocket and when you open it. Now you're crying. The gift was a dog tag engraved with a saying Simon often gave you as reassurance. "Where'd you even find this?" "I had it made." "So that's - that's why you were gone this morning, isn't it?" Simon nodded.

You wanted to jump into his arms, but were hesitant. You looked around briefly, but Simon opened his arms. "Come here sergeant." You wrapped your arms around him and felt him tug you into a securing embrace.

"Thank you." You whisper.

You enjoy the rest of the Christmas evening with Ghost. He watches from the corner of his chair where you're playing a video game. Simon has to resist the mental urge to correct every wrong thing your poor nephew says about the guns in said zombie game.

And he packs it in early. He taps your shoulder to let you know he's off and he heads up to bed. You say goodnight and the rest of your family says goodnight as well. And it's late when you walk up to your room. You yawn and slip into bed. These last two weeks were great.

When you finally get back on base, in uniform with all your stuff Price meets you. "Well well. I trust you two had a good time?"

"It was great!"

"I was miserable Price. They made me have fun and stuff."

"oh you did that all on your own buddy." He nudged you in the side playfully. "I'm teasing. It was fun."

König has family waiting for him at home. Three siblings, two older one younger. And his parents. They're not the wealthiest but König's income of a steady 51K a year has kept his family afloat. For this reason Christmas can be a bit hectic at their place. When you two finally got leave, conveniently, a few days before Christmas, you were excited.

Poor boy was torn between seeing his family or hanging out with one. On one hand he hadn't seen his family in a while and on the other I wasn't inclined to leave you. It took him a while to try and decide, and this was all before he even asked you if you wanted him to come.

And knowing König he never did, too nervous to be turned down.

It was your average training day and König was having a bit of trouble keeping up. He blocked your kick in favor of taking you under in a headlock. Your heel dug into his boot in retaliation but he didn't let go. You tapped out and he dropped you.

"Hey, you doing ok buddy? I noticed you were slipping up a bit there." He doesn't have the heart to tell you or to ask so he just nods. "A lot on my mind, sorry."

"Want to talk about it? Or is it personal?"

"No, it's about you actually..."

"Oh? Do tell."

He shrugged. "I was just wondering... Are you doing anything for leave? I mean, You have family to go back to but..."

"König. Come on, you can ask me."

"Well I miss my family but I was wondering you'd be ok with me coming on leave with you?? Even though you would like to see your family over me."

You chuckled. "That's what this is about? König, you know you're welcome to come stay with me anytime you'd like."

"You wouldn't mind??"

"Of course not."

He's in a pretty good mood for the next few days. His ego was boosted a smidge knowing he'd been permitted to come with you and you could see it.

So he let the others see his pride.

The week you were supposed to leave König was attached at your hip. He followed you, helped you clean up, finish the paperwork you needed to and made sure you were secure and someone took over for you and him of course.

König was anxious to say the least. He'd never met your family and the whole flight back his couldn't help but think he was overthinking things. But he felt safer talking to you. Knowing you'd permitted him over to your house for a while wasn't something he should have to be nervous about. It was more your family he was worrying over.

When you arrived home it was early in the morning. The sun was rising and you two were exhausted. You pointed him toward the guest bedroom and told him to unpack however he liked.

"Everything ok in here?" You asked, coming to check on him after a few minutes. König nodded. "Only a slight problem." You raised your eyebrow as König laid down on the bed. His calves stuck off the bed and his toes dangled from the mattress.

You chuckled. "Sorry it's only a queen size, we can switch if you want? Mine is a bit bigger?"

"Oh no! I find it kind of funny. It's like home, the bunk back at base is barely big enough for me even after getting me a bigger one."

"Alright. If you're ever uncomfortable come to me and we can switch, see if that works for you. No problems."

König nodded.

"Ok bud. Get all the sleep you want." You yawned. "I know I will."

König is an early riser. Especially the first day back home könig is a little more antsy and just used to being up early. So while you take the chance to sleep in, König gets up at 9, much later than he normally would. And unlike Ghost, König knows how to cook. Not extremely well and not five tier, Gordon Ramsey stuff, but he can cook.

When you wake up and come down stairs to the inviting and warm scent of food your stomach growls. "Well good morning. I made breakfast for us."

You rub your eyes and see the breakfast in front of you. "Well look at you." You tease. "For me?" "For you."

König not nearly as anxious when in a domestic environment than on base. On base you know König as shy, socially awkward and a bloody murder. But in the peace of your home with just you König cooks for and with you. He roams freely. Of course he asks before using your stuff but he is no longer super hesitant after the first day.

It only takes him a day two to get into a natural gear.

Now depending on where you live König may have never been there. And if he has it's probably been on some kind of military related endeavor so he hasn't been out for sightseeing. You change this.

On the second day you and König go out and get breakfast at a restaurant. König was nervous outside of your home but he got through his order and no corrections needed to be made.

König loves his hood. Makes him feel secure and comfortable, but he's realized how much attention it would draw walking around like an executioner from the 1700's. So he's trying to like medical masks. He HATES them. They move around on his face, and only cover a portion of what he'd like to hide. But he doesn't complain about it to you.

You two then continue on to get coffee at a local place and just take a calming drive down the road. You point out all the signs and the Christmas decorations. König is thrilled.

Eventually you get out around one of the quiet natural parks and the two of you take a walk. König talks and doesn't really realize he's talking until he realizes he is dominating the conversation. And you're smiling like an idiot.

You tell him a bit about your family and spend the rest of the day out and about talking and exploring.

König settled easily.

When the two of you got home you both were exhausted from your day out. König dropped onto the couch and sighed. He rested his head back and you sat down next to him. "That was nice." König hummed and you were both out.

When you woke up König was half snoring, bent over his head head leaning on the couch armrest, his opposite arm still loosely wrapped around your shoulders.

You stirred from your sleep and stretched out on the couch. König still looked to be asleep. So you grabbed a blanket and laid it over his lap. "Sleep well."

The rest of the week carries on like this. König becomes more and more comfortable around you each day. You go for hikes and sometimes just sit around and play video games. It's amazing to see König laugh, losing track of time just sitting on the couch with you like the world doesn't matter.

You had gotten up early one morning. You were making yourself some coffee and you heard the stairs creak. "Good morning."

"Morning." Came König's rough morning voice. You pulled out a second cup as the tall shadow lingered over toward you. "How did you sleep?"

"Good."

You turned around and smiled up at him. Your smile quickly turning to shock. König looked down at you, a comforting smile playing on his scarred lips. Little scars here and larger scars there littered over his plain face. "You're hood."

"Mhm. Don't want to wear it inside anymore."

Your jaw dropped. You would have dropped the cup on your hand had König not taken it from you. "What are we doing today?" You blinked, thoughts still lingering on his face. His pale, beautiful face.

"Y/N??"

"Huh? Oh sorry! I'm just not, I haven't seen your face before. Apologies for staring. You're very handsome by the way."

König smiled.

"Well, family is coming over in a couple hours. They'll probably be here around dinner. After that they'll be staying the night and all of tomorrow for Christmas."

König nodded.

"And König, if at any point you feel uncomfortable you can leave the room. If you just have to excuse yourself and step away that is totally ok. And if you need to spend the rest of the night alone that's cool too."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, you don't even have to participate if you want to. I understand."

It was quiet for a moment. König seemed to take comfort in your words.

"Did you send your family any gifts?"

König nodded again. "I usually buy a couple months in advance and ship them off so that they'll get the gifts even if I can't make it."

"That's sweet."

"How about you?"

You chuckled. "Oh no no no, I can't tell you that. You'll go snooping."

"Snooping?? Then you got me something too?"

"Naturally."

This man has no idea what to get you. He was so excited to come down with you he'd completely forgotten about actually getting you something. So after breakfast he made up the excuse he needed some alone time and sped off while frantically trying to remember the locations of all the stores you'd pointed out the other day to see if he could find something.

When he walked into one of the stores, fixing his medical mask, he was nervous and jumpy. He ran around the store frantically for what felt like hours. Until an employee came over. "Sir? Find everything you're looking for ok?"

"I NEED a present for my best friend- I forgot to get them something and now-"

"You can find gift like items over here. And if they have a preference in jewelry or accessories we have a section for that as well."

Bless this poor boy's soul he loves you so much but has no fucking clue what to get you. At first he thinks sweater! But you already have some. Or maybe jewelry, but most jewelry and accessories weren't allowed to be worn actively on base so he'd only ever seen you wearing a watch or the occasional chain necklace.

Could you imagine being the lady who found this poor 6'10 man curled up and practically crying in the clothing section because he's freaking out about a gift. Just keep walking.

You're a bit confused at where König had gone. At first you assumed the mention of a gift had him either running away flustered that you got him something or flustered he hadn't gotten you anything. But it has been over five hours and König still wasn't home.

You're parents and family got there before he did. Weird.

You greeted your family and allowed them inside. "Hey, just so you call are aware, my military partner is staying over with us. I know I texted you about him but just be aware ok?"

You family is pretty chill about it. They've heard things about König. About how tall and strong he is. His job and how he barrels so easily through enemy forces. So his name isn't foreign to your discussions. Considering he's your partner he often comes up on discussions about your job.

You get your family set up downstairs and get to talking. You check the time worriedly and see König still isn't home. So you decide to text him. Roughly ten minutes later you hear loud footsteps at the door.

"König?"

"Yeah! Sorry I was gone so long."

"It's ok. Come into the kitchen, family is here."

König drops his stuff at the bottom of the stairs and takes off his boots. When he comes into the kitchen he towers over your family. You can't help but chuckle when your parents eyes widen at just how tall he is. You've talked about how tall he is, but 6'10 looks much taller in person I guess.

"Mum, dad, this is König."

König is just a bit stunned in the face of your parents and siblings, and your cousins were lounging in the living room.

"Hi." König waved and steps into the kitchen. "Good to see you back. Where did you find yourself off to??" You hugged him, comforted by his large hands briefly rubbing your back. "Just umm... last minute shopping and stuff."

You chuckled. "I figured."

You had informed your family about König's hood. But König made it through most of the evening before he started to get overwhelmed. With the notion of smaller children around, König didn't attempt to put his hood on, he seemingly already scared the children.

His large height was somewhat of a problem with the kids. While your family attempted conversation The youngers were terrified. So König wasn't going to attempt to put the hood on.

It wasn't until you'd mentioned how König was a pretty good sniper that one of the younger boys perked up. "Do you shoot guns like Y/N??" König hesitated. "Well, mine are a little bigger, but for the most part we handle the same kind of guns."

"Cool! So you get to sit on hills and snipe people like-" *making gun noises, you know the ones* "Well, actually. I'm not a sniper. I wanted to be but I'm actually used as a giant battering ram most of the time." This held the kids attention for a bit and König spoke freely about what his job entails with as few graphic details as he could. But eventually his attention was taken and König returned talking with you.

The kids were watching a movie while you talked with your parents for a while. König fidgeted next to you. His gaze scattered around the room until he got the courage to tap you on the thigh.

"What's up?" "I'm gonna head to bed, if you don't mind." "Absolutely, thank you for hanging out with us." König gets up to leave when you clear your throat. "And my hug?" He hugs you tightly and waves before going up to bed. And he can hear you all downstairs but tries to just get some sleep.

König is the first up the next morning. It's peaceful and with everyone asleep he has time to wrap presents. He puts on his hood and his favorite black sweater. So he looks like this giant black mass of fabric in the kitchen. But he's quiet. He doesn't want to risk waking you and your family.

The younger ones get up first, around 9. At first when they turn the corner and see König they're scared. König greets them softly and motions to the food in the sizzling pan. "I'm making breakfast. You want some?" They nod and sit down.

König serves the youngest breakfast and sits down with them. He isn't afraid to remove his hood around the kids, so he does, at least to eat.

"So, you're Y/N partner?"

König nods. "Yes, we go on lots of adventures together."

"What do you do? Do you shoot lots of guys??"

König hums. "Well, that's part of it. We fight for our home, but there are also other things."

"What other things?"

"Well, we have to stay at base and train recruits. And sometimes we have to move between several bases so we can train different groups of new recruits. And another part of it is paperwork."

The kids cringed. "So you're not fighting all the time?"

"Nope."

"That's lame."

König chuckled. "When you've been doing it as long as we have, you learn that staying at base and doing paperwork or training recruits isn't that bad. Sometimes it's a blessing."

"Why?" The kid tilted his head. "I'll let Y/N tell you when you're older."

König sat and talked with the kids until you were awake. You tromped down the stairs and yawned as you entered the kitchen. "König." You greeted, surpised. "Kids." You greeted, even more surprised to see them sitting and smiling in front of the man they were scared of a mere day ago. "I see you're getting along."

"Is it true you do paperwork all day Y/N!?" The boy questioned immediately.

You chuckled. "Not all day. Me and König have our adventures. We have some pretty good stories eh bud?" König nodded.

"Can you tell us???"

You looked over at König and sighed. Those kids wouldn't leave you alone. "Alright, König, tell them about the time you took on eight armed men with just your fists."

When your parents and other family members wake up, König goes back to wearing the hood. He doesn't want to scare your family but wearing it does make him more comfortable.

Surprisingly the kids enjoy talking to König than the rest of your family. Your parents were definitely momentarily wondering why the hell you hung out with this guy. That is until he offered to do the dishes and clean up while you got dressed.

"Alright, well, we're taking the kids to the pool this afternoon." "Like, an indoor pool??" "Yes, an indoor pool." Your father laughed. It was too cold for an outdoor pool.

While the kids start getting ready to go to the pool, you reassured König that he could come or go. But considering he had no swimwear, the two of you went out to buy him some stuff.

The pool wasn't that busy, a couple of kids and their parents buried in their phones on the lounge chairs. König was a bit off in the new environment. But the kids went right ahead to play. König sits next to you in one of the chairs and just watches.

You look over at him and smile. "And König, if it's not too much, I think you look good." Referencing the fact that he'd battled over going since he couldn't wear his mask in the water. So he'd just ditched it, only for a couple of hours and it was a weird feeling.

"Hey Mr!" König looked up at two of the kids by the deep end. "Can you throw me?" König looked over at you and you smiled. "They can handle it." König shrugged and stood. His hulking form walked over to the small kids and bent down when they reached their arms up. "Ready?"

They nodded excitedly as the first kid was swung. König lifted him high into the air and swung him, flinging him up into the air and down into the pool with a loud splash.

"Did you see how high he went!?" The other gasped. "Me next!!" König waited for the other kid to resurface. "That was awesome!!" He gasped when he pulled out of the water.

König looked back at you and you gave him a thumbs up.

König picked up the second kid and lunged him into the air. He screamed before he hit the pool only to resurface with a big grin. "Get Y/N!!"

You paused. König turned to look at you comfortable, dry, relaxing on your phone.

"König..."

The man turned and walked over. You discarded your phone and scrambled to your feet to get away. "König no!!" He snatched you into his arms and pulled you up ofc your feet. "Come on, have a little fun." You struggled and gasped as he brought you to the water.

He managed to flip you so he was now carrying you bridal style. "König please." You tried to hang onto his bicep but König rocked you back and forth. And you were flung into the air. You screamed on your way to the water and were taken under by a splash.

König chuckled that stupid little chuckle when you resurfaced. "You piece of-" You swam over and he pulled you out of the water.

König had fun. You could tell. It was the first time in a while you'd seen him just relax and let go. The first time he'd been around kids not screaming in terror and begging for their lives. It was the first time you'd seen König be able to step back and breathe. To call this a safe place.

After swimming your family came back and finished up Christmas dinner. König attempted to help but was quickly shoved out of the kitchen by your parents.

So he sat at the table and played a card game with you.

Throughout Christmas dinner König was doing pretty good. However, roughly half way through the dinner you heard this light tapping next to you. When you listened to it, and looked up at König scratched the medical mask you understood. You reached under the table and placed your hand on his thigh. "If you'd like to leave, you're more than welcome." You understood. You also god people'd out and nervous after spending too much time around people. But König had more than excelled today.

"You wouldn't mind? Just a little bit?" "Take the whole night if you need big guy, I won't be upset. You did wonderful today." You whispered. So König politely excused himself and headed up to bed.

When presents were opened your parents divided gifts equally. Your mom hummed at some of the gifts. "From König to Y/N." You smile and take the gifts. When you open them, you couldn't help but smile. He'd gotten you the sweater you'd been eyeing through one of the store windows on your walk with him. It was thick wool with holes for the thumbs on the sleeves and a turtleneck. And a multi-purpose pocket knife. You adored the sharp blades and the screwdriver end that came with it. It's almost as if he didn't have a clue what to get you. You loved them regardless.

And he got you a little card which almost had you in tears.

When the night was over and your family said goodnight, you walked up to your room and knocked on König's door. "Come in." You pushed the door open gently and slipped inside. "Thank you for the gifts." "I didn't know what to get you." "Well I think you did a fine job picking. I love them." König sat up and you sat down next to him. "I'm so glad you came with me you know?"

"I am too."

You give him a hug. "I'm really proud of you buddy. I'm really, really proud of you know that?"

"I loved hanging out with your family. They're amazing, just like you. I can see where you get it." You chuckled and wipe a tear from your eye. "That's all I've ever wanted to hear." "I mean it. They are wonderful people."

When leave is done and you two are packed up to leave, everything is a bit heavy. König will miss your house and the too small bed you gave him. But this place will forever be a refuge, a safe place in his heart and mind.

"Welcome back soldiers!" Your captain called. You both saluted the man on your way through. "How was the trip?"

"Oh we had an amazing time, can't wait to go back sir." König beamed under the hood. Your heart swelled. You were so happy.

#simon ghost riley #call of duty headcanons #ghost x reader #call of duty #könig x reader #könig x y/n #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x you #platonic x reader #platonic ghost x reader #konig headcanons #cod headcanons

[cbk1000]

I'm bored and feeling slightly under the weather, so I decided to post some of the almost 15,000 words I have of a luxury train holiday fic that I started after learning that luxury train holidays were a thing. Why did I write a fic about such a random thing? Because I fell down a rabbit hole of luxury travel videos, discovered luxury trains, and naturally turned those videos into a Merthur fic.

Waverly Station, not to put too fine a point on it, was the most wretched hive of scum and villainy ever to be stolen by the British Empire; though possibly this was because Edinburgh had rained on Arthur, rather prodigiously, whilst he was legging it for the station; possibly because he had been woken, at the hour of No, to catch a train into Scotland; and possibly because he was carrying everything which Morgana owned, over every limb he owned; and consequently hated everyone. The sad fate of the baggage mule was his own: to be flogged, viciously, by a master too precious to carry their own bloody rubbish, through the most wretched of conditions (mizzle), with as little thanks as can be given by a creature throated to give it: and with that especial garnish, which was that he was being hit by Morgana’s voice, rather than a nice little crop, which would have only broken his flesh, and not his spirit.

He was trying to decide in which order to kill them both when he spotted, at the other end of the station, the sculpted dark head, modelled in the image of a wave; though the wave would have blushed to hear it. And beside it, a head similarly coloured, if not similarly coiffed; though he had got it into some order, and not an entirely hideous one. Gwaine nodded; and then Merlin turned round, and showed Arthur the smile he hadn’t seen in two weeks. And he felt it call up from the depths of him an answering smile, though he still hated, in the following order, Morgana; the weather; everyone.

“Should have asked me and Gwaine to carry your stuff. Arthur’s clearly crumbling under the weight of being overestimated,” Merlin said, exchanging cheek kisses with Morgana.

“I just love how funny you are,” Arthur replied, chucking off the various pieces of baggage, and letting them land where they landed.

“Don’t throw my stuff, you absolute knob.”

“Then carry it yourself!” Arthur snapped. “Did you remember your suit?” he asked Merlin, who in a blazer and shirt which appeared, miraculously, not to have got his breakfast, blood, or tea on it, was so uncharacteristically smart that probably he considered himself to be entirely done improving on himself. “You’ll have to wear a proper suit for the formal dinners.” He paused, squinting at him. “Do you have product in your hair?”

Merlin wiggled his eyebrows. “Gwaine helped me with it. Don’t worry; I won’t embarrass you on your posh train.”

“You embarrass me on the Tube.”

“I think that’s just because you feel a heightened sense of shame at having to ride public transportation with the plebian class.”

Arthur rolled his eyes. “Where are Gwen and Lancelot?”

“Gwen’s in the loo; Lancelot’s gone to look for something to eat. He’s worried the train’s going to serve tiny rich people portions.” Merlin pocketed his hands in his trousers. “Want a coffee?”

“Sure; I could use one, having got up at the arse crack of time this morning,” Arthur said, glaring at Morgana, who as usual was perfectly untroubled by her conduct. He gave Merlin a little slap on the shoulder, and then draped his arm round it, steering him toward Caffé Nero before he could do something unforgivable, like choose Costa. He had enhanced the blazer and hair product with a little aftershave, so that as they were walking, Arthur caught a whiff of something not entirely abhorrent; though his manners, doubtless, would make up for it. If they got him on the train, in the blazer, and no one was very much harmed in the process, that was the most which feeble humanity could expect of God’s capricious mercy. “How’s work?”

“Like arse,” Merlin said, paying for their coffees, and handing Arthur his. “I think they would have asked me to push off my holiday, except they know I’m a biter. And not just the sexy kind.”

Arthur rolled his eyes. “Just something to consider, a luxury train holiday with a spa and 24 hour steward service might be the place to consider not being a totally classless knob who talks about his sexual preferences in public.”

“The train has a spa?!”

Arthur ignored that. “You didn’t answer about the suit.”

“Yes, I packed the suit we FaceTimed about.”

“Nice to know you can occasionally conjure up enough sense to listen to me,” Arthur said, sipping from his coffee, and looking across the platforms to where Gwen had now joined Morgana and Gwaine, and the women were talking with their heads close together, and laughing, whilst Gwaine arranged himself for the admiring masses. 

“Sometimes I wish he weren’t so straight,” Merlin said, cocking his head a little to one side, and drinking from his coffee. “Just a little bit gay; that’s all I’m asking for.”

“Gwaine?” Arthur sputtered, choking on his coffee. “Why on earth?”

“Because he’s the fittest man I know.”

“Of everyone you know, Gwaine is the fittest.”

“No, I didn’t say everyone, I said of the men I know. I would never say fittest of everyone I know, when Morgana’s right there.”

Arthur stepped on his foot, and got the maddening dimples which told him that Merlin was being trying for the sheer and unadulterated pleasure of it; though he made up for it, marginally, by stepping out from underneath Arthur’s arm, so that he could have a proper look at him, the measuring appraisal of a (not terribly) discerning bisexual, who was not so simple, at least, as to not notice that Arthur was practically the pinnacle of attractiveness, in regular shirt and trousers; and in a proper jacket was planting his flag at the peak of it. “You look ok, though,” Merlin said, tweaking one of his lapels a little.

Arthur cuffed him across the back of the head. “Ok.”

“Yeah. For a total arsehole.”

Lancelot had returned, and Arthur and Merlin were cordially punching one another, when the Royal Scotsman arrived, and Gwen gave a little squeal, and leapt up holding two very reasonable bags, whilst Morgana and entourage looked at Arthur expectantly.

“I am not hauling all that on the bloody train. You could have asked yourself at any point, ‘Do I need my entire closet for a week-long holiday?’ and come to a sane conclusion, but you didn’t,” Arthur said; and so having stated his piece, hauled his own rucksack over his shoulder, forsaking hers.

They were piped aboard the train, a rather troublesome portent, Arthur felt; all week people would be making noise which they felt to be music, whilst he was trying to work or read or bathe; whilst it was his right to exist with the Highlands of Scotland, doing their piece to be stunning, whilst he did his. He had his luggage taken, and was shown through into the Observation Car, which was kitted out like a lounge with armchairs and sofas, and a small balcony for watching the stars. Merlin, true to his complete lack of noticeable decorum, said, “Holy shit.” There was a decent carpet underfoot, the colour of wine; and the wood panelling was the same as he had seen in hotels of distinction. There was the bar at the end of the car, which he would need, once Morgana boarded with the Luggage, having got Gwaine to do the hauling for her, and still feeling that Arthur owed her his time and lumbar spine.

“Why did you book us a double, you weirdo?” Merlin asked when they were taken to their cabin, having shouldered ahead of Arthur, to get a look at it first, before Arthur could spoil his first impressions, by being, as Merlin put it, ‘a poncey indifferent bastard.’

“I didn’t. It’s a twin.”

“Looks like a double bed to me.”

“What?” Arthur cried, and pushed him out of the doorway. 

Merlin, contrary to all that was sane, or expected, was right: there was the one lone bed, lovely but singular. They had made it up with a little tartan duvet in the spirit of their culture, as if that would make up for the insult. “We’re supposed to have a twin room.”

“I’m sorry, sir, this is the room.” This from the liveried employee who had shown them to the cabin, and was now realising he had done something, inadvertently, to anger the kind of patron who could drop twenty-six thousand pounds on an eight-day holiday. Merlin pinched him. “It’s fine,” he reassured the man, dimpling at him. 

“It’s not fine!” Arthur cried.

“Yes, it is. If you don’t have any other rooms, and I’m assuming you don’t, otherwise you would have said so immediately, as soon as he started turning all red in the face, we can manage. He’s not the worst thing I’ve woken up to,” Merlin said, and dimpled again, this time in a way that made Arthur coincidentally sweat.

“You didn’t have to be a knob to him,” Merlin said when the man had left, tossing his blazer over the armchair. 

“I wasn’t a knob to him, he mucked up my booking!”

“He didn’t muck up your booking, and put your tits back on. I think we can survive sharing a double bed for a week. I don’t know what you’re complaining about, anyway. You’re the one who snores.”

“I do not snore,” Arthur said, outraged. “You’ll have to sleep in the armchair.”

“I’m not sleeping in the armchair.”

“Well--on the floor, then. I’m sure there’s extra bedding to be got.”

“I’m not sleeping in the armchair, or on the floor; if you’ve got a problem sharing, you’re free to kip on either one,” Merlin said, as if it were settled; and now began, with every appearance of serenity, to begin unloading his bag, into the loo, and all over the writing table and bed, as if he were entitled to the calm dispersal of his belongings, whilst Arthur was stood in the centre of the cabin, clutching at his bag, and staring. The bed was an ordinary double; no giant of its kind, but a mere representative, with no girth but the girth to accommodate them, just. Doubles were for couples who didn’t mind mingling their breath and their limbs and their--other limbs. And now he would have to share, with Merlin’s aftershave and thighs, the romantic space in the spirit of platonicness. Already Merlin had sprawled out on it, demonstrating how it was to be, for seven nights, for Arthur’s personal bubble. Already he had taken off his shoes and blazer, and put his fitted trousers all over Arthur’s bed, as if it were decent, or sensible, or respectable, to take off any clothes whatsoever, in that close, warm space in which they would have to violate the edicts of platonic accord.

“So all week, I’m to have your elbow in my ribs, and just deal with it?” Arthur demanded, still clutching at the bag on his shoulder.

“Yeah, and probably my morning wood too, but I wouldn’t worry about it; if our friendship can get past your personality, it can get past anything.”

Gwen poked her head in the door. “Hello! They’re serving afternoon tea soon.” She stopped, and looked at Merlin on the bed, and looked at Arthur, not on the bed, because he was in possession of common decency. “Why have you got a double?”

“I dunno. Apparently Arthur and I are on our honeymoon,” Merlin said, scrolling through his mobile with his thumb without looking up.

“I booked a twin,” Arthur repeated, loudly but uselessly, in the face of Merlin’s indifference, and Gwen’s eyebrow. She was giving him a Look, very capitalised. It was Arthur’s unfortunate but not unexpected cross to bear; he was one of those unlucky blokes who had got some miscreants, instead of those decent, ordinary folk of common friendship; though he had expected better from Gwen. 

“Anyway,” she said, still giving him the odd Look, “are you coming down for tea? We’re in the first dining car.”

“In a minute,” Arthur said, unloading his bag, by the satisfactory method of smacking Merlin in the face with it.

“Ow!”

“Arthur,” Gwen scolded gently, and was gone, leaving him in that strange shrunken space, where before had existed a normal-sized room; even a rather kingly one, for a train. He felt there was a sort of odd pressure round him. He felt already that he had the awareness of Merlin, before he had Merlin--his close, stifling body, in the bed, that was--the close, stifling presence, offensive if not downright repulsive; anyway, he was quite plagued, quite unsurprisingly, as he had been, all their long and troublesome friendship. 

“Get up; we’re going for tea,” he said, poking Merlin in the side, and getting a yelp out of him. 

They watched Edinburgh and the Castle vanishing beyond the windows from the dining car, whilst Lancelot ate an alarming number of canapes, and Gwen warned him, in the roundabout way of innuendo, by someone who actually knew how to make it, that he oughtn't to be too full, for the sake of--of dinner.

“And dessert,” Merlin said, in a dining car full of blazers and cocktail dresses, in a tone which specified, clearly and resoundingly, that he was not referring to a nice little jelly or sorbet.

“I thought you said you weren’t going to embarrass me on my posh train?” Arthur asked, kicking him in the shin. 

“Technically I embarrassed Gwen,” Merlin pointed out, shovelling one of the canapes into his mouth. “What are we doing tonight?” he asked, like an animal, through the canape, rather than after it.

“Drinking, I think,” Gwaine replied.

“There aren’t any excursions today,” Morgana said. “We’re getting off tomorrow at Glenfinnan, but tonight you’re free to do whatever you like, till dinner. Have some drinks, watch the scenery, break in your double bed.” She smirked at him.

Arthur rolled his eyes. “For the last time, I. Booked. A Twin.”

“He just missed me, is all,” Merlin said, turning on him a smirk almost as bothersome as Morgana’s.

“I don’t see how,” she said, sipping her tea. “I’m sure he has a little doll made of your hair that he sleeps with every night.”

“Yeah, but it just can’t live up to the real thing,” Merlin replied, ruffling it.

“I wish you’d never met. Or been born,” Arthur said pleasantly.

“Merlin, why don’t you give your bride a proper seeing-to in your double bed? He’s getting tetchy again.”

“Piss off,” Arthur said, and went to find, in the arms of some champagne, solace from the bitter reality of his genetics.

#featuring: and there was only one bed #fic #merthur #preview #writing

[amphitriteswife]

📓Ror/ SnV characters as teachers/subjects pt2📓

🌸Tag list🌸: @miss-seanymph-pani @viostar2095 @nicasdreamer @vilereign @tinyy-tea-cup @monstertreden

Qin Shi Huang:

🧧he teaches Chinese (it’s a subject where i live).

🧧He isn’t serious at all and mostly just talks with his students about anything and everything

🧧Chinese is difficult tho so if you need extra help he has no problem giving you some extra lectures

🧧gets along great with most teachers….most.

🧧’where did you go on vacation sir?’ ‘China.’ ‘But you’ve been there like the last 16 years’ ‘yes.’

🧧he teaches his students Chinese curse words. He denies doing it tho, so if you get caught it wasn’t him.

🧧brings moon cakes and usually changes the lesson to a longer lasting lunch break

🧧legit sometimes forget to prepare lessons and just lets everyone go early.

🧧’oh mr. Poseidon gave yall a lot of homework? Don’t worry yall we’ll just watch some movies today.’

🧧 gives homework sometimes, but doesn’t get mad if u don’t make it.

🧧goes to all school events, trips, parties no matter what he’s always present.

🧧probably got in trouble with the principal. Doesn’t care. Why? He’s one of the most loved teachers and would be shame to let him go.

🧧’class i’m tired so imma let yall go early today’

🧧allows eating in his class, as well as phones. Man is addicted to his phone too so he don’t see a problem with it.

🧧good friends with budda and Hades. They usually combine classes for trips n stuff

🧧legit thinks that the school should have trips to China. Bro will have a whole meeting about it and won’t back down

🧧has like those learning posters in his classroom. It’s usually a map of China and some basic words or numbers.

🧧puts on some Chinese drama’s or series for the class to watch, even the mukbangs.

🧧He spends his lunchbreak in a restaurant, might flirt with the waiter tho. It’s a Chinese restaurant too.

🧧if he aint at the restaurant he’s probably buying things or just talking with student or his coworkers.

🧧gives his credit card to the students he trusts and asks them to but him something, yall ofcourse can get something for yourselves too.

🧧’sir, you just 3 lessons in a row. How do you have Starbucks? It’s a 15 minute walk’ ‘I have my ways…’

🧧Every time you see him he’s with another girl, man’s a player ok. He had like idk 4829173927293739 concubines, wives not included.

Loki:

🎭 surprisingly teacher literature.

🎭 ‘this text means that children are like monstors, if not, worse’

🎭 is either nice or very creepy. No in between.

🎭 makes a distinguish between students he likes and doesn’t like.

🎭 legit gets bullied by his students. ‘Sir who is Sigyn?’ ‘Oh that’s a very long and delicate story.’ He doesn’t want anyone to know his personal life cause it’s……personal.

🎭 ‘Romeo (Loki) was a fool for believing Juliet (brunhilde) would ever love him.’ The class probably knew about it and laughs at him.

🎭 bro legit ran out the room crying and shoved Hercules aside who was like ‘yo wtf just happend’ and just continued his day. Loki on the other hand was crying in the janitor’s closet about Sigyn.

🎭 Do. Not. Mention . Sigyn. His soul is to delicate to think about her.

🎭Has a picture of Sigyn on his desk and looks at it a lot. But tries not to show it.

🎭 Writes poems about Sigyn, sometimes some art or some flowers.

🎭If you spot some purple flowers on his desk it’s cause they remind him of Sigyn, if you ask he’ll lie about it.

🎭 Gives surprise tests, why? Cause he can. He only gives them to students who don’t do their homework.

🎭 If u like literature he sometimes asks you about your favorite poem and has a conversation about it. May include it in his lesson too.

🎭 ‘Can i use the restroom?’ ‘I don’t know can you?’ Type of teacher, only to students he doesn’t like. If you a good student he’ll let you go to the restroom.

🎭 He spends the entire 1st week after holidays just talking with students and not doing any work.

🎭 hates meetings. He never shows up for then what got him in trouble but he doesn’t care. He thinks that meetings are a waste of time and that all the stuff can be put in an email.

🎭he’s divorced ok. And Sigyn has the kids most of the time. So he is a mood swing, he doesn’t have them he just is one. The other day he all smiley and okay and the other he just depresso

🎭 needs therapy, maybe counseling, and meds. He’s over brunhilde tho, so now he tries to get Sigyn back,

🎭class, if bro is in good terms w his kids n ex wife bro can be the most chillest teacher, like buddha and qin level, but he first needs to be mentally stable.

🎭 one of his kids visited him at school and he started crying, so he spent the whole lesson with his kid and let the class go early

Brunhilde:

🪽 She’s the school’s psychologist.

🪽 Students as well as teachers can go to her with their problems.

🪽She has her own office where she talk with ppl

🪽doesn’t get along with the principal (Zeus)

🪽When you have an appointment with her she usually already sends an email to the teacher’s class you originally were supposed to be in so that you wont be marked absent.

🪽She is also present during the teachers’ meetings. She has a list of ppl who visit her and backs up those students.

🪽She also handles suspensions, especially if the student had talked to her before or visits her regularly.

🪽Her office had pictures of her sisters, some are also teachers and some are still students at the school.

🪽 She is happily engaged to Siegfried, who sometimes visits the school and helps out with functions.

🪽 Also tags along, but she usually tags along for amusement parks or museums, cause she doesn’t like being too far away from her sisters.

🪽 Sometimes takes students out of lessons to have a talk with them to make sure they’re alright.

🪽She also talks with ppl who have dyslexia or example autism so that she can make sure the student gets al the time they need

🪽She’s pretty chill actually, she likes hearing about her students doing better in school and is willing to do everything to ensure that.

🪽offers counseling, extra lessons and making sure that her students well beings aren’t neglected.

✨Note✨: hey yall its me again, i made a new one w other characterss, only i ran out of ideas so i may make some more though also thank yall for Reading this 🩷

#snv characters as teachers #shuumatsu no valkyrie #record of ragnarok #ror brunhilde #ror loki #snv loki #snv loki x reader #snv brunhilde #snv qin shi huang #qin shi huang #ror qin shi huang #qin shi huang x reader #record of ragnarok brunhilde

[the-angeleno]

gekko x female reader where like basically finds her super attractive and is nervous to talk to her so reader starts to think he doesn’t like her since hes so social w the other agents I hope that kinda makes sense?? Also hes so bbg<33

FIRST IMPRESSIONS! gekko x f!reader ✴ fluff!! no warnings!

[note!!] ↳ i apologize for taking so long with requests, i was just overwhelmed and flooded with so many and then uni got super chaotic but we made it! merry christmas / happy holidays!

mateo’s introduction to the protocol went as smooth as being introduced to by reyna could go. he’s not sure exactly what she said to get him in, as it seemed to be pretty exclusive and he’s not entirely sure if he has the professionalism they were looking for. 

he doesn’t, but they don’t seem to mind. well, brimstone has complained here and there about how difficult the boy was to reach, he never answered his phone or replied to his texts but the motherfucker was always on tiktok whenever the protocol held meetings.

he got away with a lot by practically being reyna’s little brother, everyone was too scared to do anything to reprimand the boy. other than viper of course, nothing scared that woman it seemed.

being one of the younger agents, and the newest, left him anxious, but as time went on, he’s gotten his own seat at the table. he knew what the first day jitters felt like, how everything was intimidating, and he had already known reyna prior and she still kind of scares him so he can’t imagine how intimidating the woman would be to you. 

brim asked beforehand if anyone wanted to step up and show you the ropes, before gekko even had the chance to volunteer, almost every head in the room turned to him anyway.

“i’d be honored.” he bowed dramatically, turning to harbor, “i’ll make you proud coach!”

he didn’t. not because he was a bad coach necessarily, he just couldn’t get a proper sentence out without bumbling like a fool. 

the new agent was really pretty, and mateo’s had crushes before in the past but nothing like this, where the moment he looked at her he felt the carpet pull out from under him.

nobody else seemed affected by your beauty, even chamber seemed too occupied with his work to ogle at you. the knowing looks from jett and phoenix only made him more flustered as he knew his attraction to you was written all over his face.

neon and raze were stifling laughter, watching his sad attempt at demonstrating how to defuse a spike. 

“s-so yeah um .. after y’know c-clearing corners and stuff you uh… um usually brim will c-comm? yeah he’ll comm us  uh let us know the game plan.” he clears his throat, looking down at his hands and shaking his head in an attempt to clear out his thoughts. 

you watched him with such a kind expression on your face, it was almost a little infuriating how good you were at maintaining eye contact with him, mateo feels like he might die of heatstroke with how hot his face has become. 

you notice how nervous he is and hesitantly reach for him, placing your hand on his shoulder.

“hey i know we just met and all, but i promise i'm not gonna kill you…” an awkward laugh accompanied your words, and you couldn’t hide some of the hurt in your voice. why was he so terrified of you? “i’m not! scared of you or anything-“

“did i do something that made you uncomfortable?”

“no! nothing like that you’re just uh..” he looks around the room, relieved when he sees the others seemed to have moved on from watching his horrible teaching skills. 

he glances at his critters, dizzy curled up as always in slumber, wingman on the couch waving his arms excitedly in support of his train of thoughts.

he breathes deeply, before finally meeting eyes with you. 

“you’re just really pretty.” he says, without stuttering, or losing eye contact, and the intensity of it all leaves a red hot flush to climb up your neck and up to your cheeks.

“o-oh.” you stutter, mind going a mile a minute because what the fuck do you even say to that? you just met him, but you can’t deny how attractive he is too. you bite back a smile and look down in embarrassment.

“thank you… that’s sweet of you to say.” 

“yeah but i just made things weird.”

“no you didn’t, things don’t have to be weird if we don’t make it weird.” you reassure, nudging his shoulder.

“now you said something about brim giving comms, do we wait for an OK before defusing or should we defuse as soon as we reach the site?”

he was grateful for the change in topic, and with that finally off his chest he was able to finally get his wavering voice back under control.

“yeah so he’ll comm with the OK; if everything is clear and it’s safe to defuse then go for it and regroup before evacuating.”

your first mission goes surprisingly well, gekko at your side through the whole thing, watching your back with every corner you turned and alerting you of enemies you missed before taking care of them himself.

he was the perfect partner anyone could ask for really, so when the other agents were hyping you up for your performance you couldn’t help but redirect the praise to mateo.

every mission went on like that, a success, the two of you made an incredible team. it wasn’t until six months later, on one of the biggest missions you’ve yet to go on, that you really showed the other agents in the protocol just how much you’ve grown.

“that quick scope was insane even reyna was impressed!” phoenix says over the sound of his comrades whooping and cheering you on.

“who knew our new agent would be our new little prodigy?” jett cooed, pinching at your cheeks. you swat her hand away, laughing at her teasing.

“nah it was all gekko and really i wouldn’t have gotten off that shot without dizzy and the spike wouldn’t have been defused without wingman. i just have the best coach, right ‘teo?” you turn to look at him and he grins, throwing an arm over your shoulder and pulling you into a side hug.

“of course hermosa, with me showing you the ropes you’ll kick everyone’s ass, radiant or not.”

his little compliment left you flustered, quick to hide your face into his neck, before feeling the vibrations of his laughter rumbling against his chest. he tilts his head down to peek at you,

“why’re you hidin’ chica?” he smirks knowingly, you were always so easy to fluster, it was incredibly endearing.

he pouts his lips out in a kissy face, laughing when you groan and roll your eyes at him.

the other agents watch silently as the two of you, almost in your own world, tease and bicker with each other back and forth, mateo’s arms still wrapped around your waist.

“i dunno why i let you take all the glory for our missions, i’m gonna stop being humble-“

“you? humble? chalè chica have you met yourself?” his words are all bark no bite, if the grin on his face was any indication.

you stuck your tongue out at him, and he sticks his right back, blowing a raspberry in your face and laughing when you yell and swat at him for spitting on you.

jett and neon share a knowing look, they bet on how long it’d take for the two of you to get together, and neon couldn’t hide the smirk on her face.

“not too late to forfeit~”

“no way, they’ve been dancing around each other like this for months im telling you they’re both too dumb to do anything for at least another two months-“

“yea like how it took you and phoenix two years to finally confess to each other?” she teased before quickly ducking the fist jett sent her way.

“wish someone would look at me like that.” chamber mutters, glancing over at viper who whistles absently, busying herself with some papers on her desk that suddenly need to be reorganized.

“can you let me go now?” you whined at him, giving him your most promising pout, he tilted his head in faux consideration, before shrugging, 

“nah. don’t want to.” 

“so you’re just gonna hold me hostage here?”

“don’t act like you don’t love it.”

“i don’t, you spat on me.” 

“okay and you drooled on me on the way back to base-“

“shut up! you were the one who insisted i slept on your shoulder-“

“yeah because i didn’t wanna deal with you whining later about your neck hurting-“

“teo, let me go so i can punch you.”

“no can do, hermosa.”

“i’ll knee you in the balls.”

he pouts again, debating if he should free you from his embrace, before he gets the chance to, you lean forward on your tiptoes and plant an obnoxious smooch on his lips, prying yourself free from him when he loosens his grip in surprise.

“HA!” you laugh maniacally, running away from the boy who was already chasing you,

“oh so that’s how you’re gonna play huh?” he yells, ignoring brimstone who is shouting at the two of you to stop running around HQ.

“did you not just see what she did!” he whines like a child, glaring at neon and jett who are trying to stifle their laughter to no avail.

you run and hide behind raze and killjoy on the couch, catching your breath, you peek your head over and spot mateo,

“you’re harboring a criminal, release her.” he declares to the couple, and raze rises, holding her arms out in front of you, blocking you away from gekko.

“you gotta get through me first.” she stands firm, winking at killjoy who only rolls her eyes at the idiocy happening before her.

“can you guys take this fight back to the playground please?” she asks, turning over on the couch to look down at you. you hold your finger to your lips, a dramatic sh! the only response offered to her.

she tries to flick your forehead but you are quick to swat her hand away, earning a snort from the engineer before she turns to sit forward on the couch. 

“what are her crimes even?” killjoy asks and you feel your face burning before mateo even opens his mouth. 

“i was holding her hostage in a hug and she kissed me to escape-“ 

“oh god gross-“ raze’s arms falter.

“are you two fucking serious?” neon says in fake disgust.

“ew guys get a room-“ killjoy remarks with a loud groan.

“GROSS!” chamber shouts from across the room.

with you defenseless, mateo is quick to dive over the couch, grabbing you and throwing you over his shoulder in one fell swoop.

he ignores your shouts and demands to be put down as he carries you away to an empty meeting room, closing the door behind him with his foot before setting you down with a mischievous smirk on his face. 

“look at the scene you caused, mensa. now everyone knows about your dirty little tricks.” he had you pushed up against the door, his face incredibly close to yours, and you were suddenly grateful he had carried you off like that, away from the eyes of your comrades who probably have an idea of what’s going on back here anyways.

the close proximity leaves you flustered, but the competitive side of you can’t seem to back down to mateo.

“didn’t expect you to get so worked up over a little kiss, you got a crush on me or something?” you teased, sounding more confident than you actually felt.

he leans closer, lips nearly touching yours before gliding upwards and caressing the shell of your ear. 

“maybe i do, but the thing is cariño…” his lips trail down your cheek, stopping right over yours, “i think you like me too.” he breathes a laugh against you and it sets you aflame, your heart pounding incessantly in your chest. 

“should i kiss you this time and find out?” his lips are centimeters away from your own, his hands that are now cupping your jaw tilt your head upwards to brush against his lips, a gasp slipping past them to which he chuckles amusedly at. 

the anticipation of his touch practically eating you alive at this point, how desperate you are to feel his lips against yours again.. you swallow, biting back your pride before nodding, 

“please… ‘teo-“

his lips are against yours in an instant, eager and passionate, moving with a desperation you hadn’t anticipated. you reach up to pull him closer by the neck, kissing him back with just as much passion and fervor.

he bites down on your lip, smirking against you when you whine and open up for him, he’s quick to use the opportunity to slip his tongue in to taste you properly.

sweet like saccharine, he couldn’t get enough, the feeling of your tongues intertwined has him dizzy, his brain short-circuiting.

he can’t believe he’s finally kissing you, finally tasting the lips he’s been craving since the day he first laid eyes on them. 

you whine his name, muffled in between kisses as he sucks particularly hard on your tongue, leaving you breathless and desperate for air. 

prying the boy off of you, you finally manage to catch your breath, panting harshly against him as he smirks at you.

“yeah you definitely like me, ‘please teo!’ he mocks and you hide your face in his neck, groaning and punching him lightly on the chest.

“you’re such an ass mateo."

[note!!] ↳ this might be ass, ngl i wrote it high on my phone at like 2am, i think the second half with all the other agents is kinda wild n messy but so is mateo so shhh. - feel free to send in more reqs!!

#gekko x reader #valorant x reader #mateo x reader #mateo armendáriz de la fuente x reader #gekko valorant x reader #valorant #gekko imagines #gekko scenarios #valorant imagines #valorant scenarios