#i cant even get a new one i have to wait until one comes in the mail

[pwinkprincess]

gojo and fucking his babygirl till she cant walk since she keeps stomping off when she has an attitude

satoru has noticed that you’ve changed. while you’re still his sweet girl, your attitude has gotten worse and worse. it really only comes out when he says something that you hadn't anticipated on hearing. 

after a long exhausting day of being the school’s golden boy and being recorded and having to talk rehearsed lines (‘perks’ of the gojo family funding a sufficient amount towards the school) it was all over. much to his luck, the frat house was completely void when he finally came home一well almost. you were sitting on the L shaped couch, waiting for him like an obedient puppy. he does little to hide his smile when he sees you jump to your feet once you realize he’s home. 

“hi, toru!” you’re smiling so hard and your arms are wrapping around him before he has the chance to fully respond.

“hey, babygirl.” he allows her to hug him. he pats the top of her while basking in how comforting the interaction feels. “how’d you get here?” he asks. he remembers vividly dropping you off at your section of your dorm two nights ago.

“suguru dropped me off.” the smile quickly washes off of his face. a displeased scowl substitutes the once there smile. 

“i thought i told you to stay away from him?” not only did he tell you to stay away from suguru, but sukuna, choso, and mahito too. it’s not like he didn’t trust you, it’s them who he didn’t trust. innocent, naive, good girls; you’re their type. they would possibly do you even worse than how satoru treats you, and he knows that. that’s why he strives so hard to keep you separated from his friend group.

“he came up t’me, toru.” you explain. “‘nd i told him that i wanted t’see you ‘nd he told me that you were busy but he could drop me off here ‘nd i wait in your room until you came back.” 

even though your explanation seems logical and realistic, he still didn’t want the two of you to interact. no matter the circumstances. he lets out a frustrated groan. he’s too tired to lecture you. he’ll talk your words with a  grain of salt this time. 

“c’mon, baby. ‘m tired.” even with the two of you traveling a short distance upstairs and into his room, you still hold his hand. he doesn’t fight you on it, opting to allow you to do whatever keeps you satisfied.

you sit happily on the edge of the bed while satoru begins stripping out of his clothes. you’re shameless as you take peaks of his body, when did his little shy girl grow so confident?

“uhmm toru, while we were in the car suguru told me about the party that’s happening this saturday.” you comment. your words are hesitant as you bring up the new topic.

“yeah, ryomen is throwin’ it this time.” he nods his head mindlessly. he’s pulling out clothes through his drawers, searching for his plaid pajama pants that isn’t folded and tucked in it’s usual spot.

“he invited me to go.” you squeak out.

satoru chuckles at your admission. “‘m gonna be busy this weekend, so..” he trails off.

“who’s gonna take me to the party then?” you ask in worry.

“no one. ‘cus you’re not going.” satoru pauses his rummaging to look at you. the expression on your face is almost comical. a mixture of shock and confusion is displayed.

“uh-huh, toru. i already told him i’d come.” you say in retaliation.

satoru makes a mental note to address suguru inviting you places without his agreement. usually, satoru usually doesn’t care when suguru offers to the girls he sleeps with, but you’re different.

"you're not going."

“...yes i am.” 

“no you’re not.” satoru replies, sarcasm is etched into his tone and he’s looking at you as if you have three heads.

“why not?!” your voice is rising and you jump up from your spot on his bed. you look up at him with a frown as you question him.

“cause ‘m not gonna be there.” he says it as though it were the clearest thing in the world.

“why does that matter, toru? i can handle goin’ alone.” you’re now defensive and upset. satoru can tell from your tone that you’re about to throw a tantrum and can only sigh as he prepares for the inevitable. 

“‘m not allowin’ you to go to a party thrown by sukuna alone.” he contradicts. 

“toruuuu.” you whine. “you’re being unfair!”

“am i?” he laughs.

you huff and whine some more. satoru ignores your whines, continuing to scavenge for his pants. the pile of clothes on the floor is growing increasingly larger and his drawers are growing bare.

“where the fuck is it?” he says aloud. if eyebrows are furrowed in confusion. 

you stop whining once you realize he’s ignoring you. frustration grows throughout your body as you look up at him with a scowl. you had grown used to satoru caving in quickly and to see him withstanding your antics absolutely enraged you.

“you’re so一stupid! i hate you!” you scream. you stomp towards the closed bedroom door while continuing to utter insults at him. 

there goes the new attitude, the loud yelling, the stomping, the insults. you’ve only done it twice before and satoru has had to put you in your place both times, this time is no different.

before you could even twist the knob, you feel a strong hand grasp the back of your neck. a sharp breath manages to escape your throat when you’re suddenly yanked backwards. it feels like your world is spinning when your back suddenly hits the mattress. 

satoru is quick to climb on top of you, his legs slot on either side of your body. 

there are angry tears pouring from your fierce eyes that soften up once you see the stern expression on his face. 

“t-to-”

“shut up.” he’s pulling your dress up to your stomach and shuffling to move to the side of you. he forces your legs open, his crystal blue eyes take notice of the way your panties hug your pussy. he could see a small wet spot seeping through your panties. he roughly yanks your panties down to your  ankles.

“t-toruuu..” you mewl. you know whats about to happen next and you try to brace yourself. 

the wind is almost knocked out of your chest when you feel his rough palm slap down onto your pussy. you flinch and kick your legs out of reflex. you squirm to move away from him which only makes him use his other hand to grab you by your throat. 

“fuckin’. rude. girl.” with every word, he’s slapping your pussy. loud screams escape out of your mouth, you try to shut your legs so that he couldn’t have any more access, satoru huffs out a breath and forcefully opens your legs back up. 

“stop.” his voice is deepened and the solidity is hard to disobey.

you could do nothing but lay there and take the slappings. every time his hand would strike down onto your pussy you would flinch and let out a weak moan. 

“of course you’d start moanin’.” he tuts. he moves from his position and stands at the edge of the bed. he grips your panties that are hanging loosely around your ankles and throws them elsewhere on the bed. he grabs you by your thighs and scoots you until your ass is hanging off the edge.

“i was jus mad, daddy, i didn’t mean anything i said.” you sniffle as you watch his cockhead rub against the entrance of your throbbing pussy.

“jus’ mad, huh?” he mumbles. he rubs his through your wetness for a few moments before sliding inside of you. on a regular day, he would’ve prepped you and made sure you were prepared enough for him to sink his lengthy cock into you. but its hard to be kind to you when you act like such a fucking brat.

“mhmm, d-daddy. was jus’ mad.” there are still tears lingering in your eyes that satoru ignores. “i don’t hate you, daddy.” you add on.

“‘s too late to apologize, babygirl. you know what happens when you act up like that.” 

you bite down on your lip while looking at him with a look of confliction. “‘m sorry.” you whimper. “are you一really mad at me or just a little?” 

“absolutely pissed, babygirl.” he says before snaking his hand back to your neck. he slams your head down onto the mattress and squeezes. 

his hips snaps into you, your wetness is already getting all over his cock and heavy balls <3. from his slapping, you feel sensitive, way more than usual. loud struggling mewls escape from your mouth as his hips speed up.

he keeps his hand around your neck but stops squeezing once his other hand goes to cover both your mouth and nose. “you’ve said enough today, babydoll. shut. the. fuck. up.” with every word, he grinds his cock deeper into your pussy. 

“rude little girl. gonna show you what happens t’girls who piss their daddy off.” he promises.

#fratboy/playboy!gojo #pwinkprincess ૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა #₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ #jjk ! ૮꒰⸝⸝> ̫ <⸝⸝꒱ა #˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗ #he wouldnt be mi toru if he wasnt bein too rough in some way #yes he does periodically remove his hands #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #gojou satoru x reader #jjk gojo #gojo x reader #gojo satoru #satoru x reader #satoru smut #gojo smut #gojo x y/n #satoru x y/n

[missmoonfrost]

Mr. Dangerous - a wolfstar microfic

April 18 - Neighbour AU - 567 words

@wolfstarmicrofic

The yelling wakes Remus up. The vice is distant, but loud enough that he can make out some words.

“Fucking whore, fucking bitch”

And, oh. That is definitely a woman crying.

Remus pulls the pillow over his head and tries to think of an excuse. He doesn’t know which apartment it is coming from. Maybe it’s even just someone passing by outside?

No. He cant ignore this. He won’t be that kind of person. With dread pooling in his stomach, he pulls a cardigan over his worn-out T-shirt and pyjama pants and wearily steps out into the staircase.

He freezes as he spots Mr. Dangerous, as Remus has named him in his mind. The neighbour with long black hair and tattoos winding up his neck, whom Remus lets play loud music late at night because he doesn’t dare complain. For a moment he thinks the yells must have been him. But then he fixes Remus with a concerned look.

“Did you hear it too?”

“Y- yeah. I don’t know where it’s coming from.”

As on cue, they hear a new tirade of curses.

“It must be from above.”

Remus silently agrees and follows Mr. Dangerous up the stairs. They stop in front of a door and look at each other. Mr. Dangerous knocks hard. The voice gets silent. The man that opens reeks of alcohol.

“What do you want?”

“Is everything ok?”

The grumpy man grunts. “Trying to sleep here.”

That’s hard to believe as he is fully dressed. Remus waits for Mr. Dangerous to say something more, but he doesn’t. Remus suddenly realises he looks scared and not dangerous at all, so he puts a foot forward.

“Can I come in? I lost my cat and I think I saw it through your window.”

The man grunts dismissively and starts closing the door.

“Let us in!” Mr. Apparently Not Scared Anymore springs forward. “I know karate and I –“ He gets a punch in the face and stumbles backwards.

“Jesus fucking Christ! Are you ok?” Remus grabs his shoulders and pulls him back, but the door is already closed.

“Fine. It’s fine.” Mr. Stupidly Brave presses his hands to his face.

“I’m calling the cops.”

“Already done.”

And sure enough, Remus can hear sirens in the distance.

After an hour of drama, both of them having been questioned by police officers, both the wife-beater and the poor woman having been escorted out by police and all nosey neighbours that suddenly did hear after all having withdrawn again, Remus finds himself in the staircase alone with Mr. Hero Of The Day.

They look solemnly at each other. Until Mr. Hero Of The Day smirks. “I lost my cat?”

Remus rubs his neck with heating cheeks. “Worth a try, wasn’t it?” He laughes along. It's liberating after all thay have just been trough.

Remus raises an eyebrow. “I know karate?”

It’s Mr. Hero's turn to huff and squirm, but they both laugh loudly again.

“I will not be able to sleep any time soon.”

“Me, neither.”

Remus jerks his head in the direction of his door. “Do you want to come in for a cup of tea?”

Suddenly the good neighbour who Remus had started to relax around looks like Mr. Dangerous again, sizing him up with his eyes squinting and arms folded.

“Only if you don’t want to come to mine for a shot of whiskey.”

Remus laughs again. “Sure. I could use one.”

#wolfstar #wolfstar microfic #sirius black #remus lupin #remus x sirius #sirius × remus #wolfstar muggle au #neighbour au

[fandom-trash-goblin]

This is a chance to post your not-posted chengxian ideas if you have any. Please gimme gimme gimme gimme-

nonnie you've come at the sort of the right place. i'm like so late to fandom strolling without starbucks because in this house we boycott, and i'm sure this idea must have been done before. but. still. thanks for the ask, i put actual effort into this, hope you like it!! <3<3

A) to the point of invention AU

literally "i love you to the point of invention"

jiang yanli is at lotus pier and she dies :(. wwx and jc proceed to go absolutely feral and codependecy skyrockets

golden core melted-wwx in total breadown canon followed

until golden core transfer fails. fuck. dealers choice how

maybe smthing smthing jiang cheng wakes up to see he's being operated on. his brother lied to him about baoshen sanren and he's about to lose another sibling. #traumatised

both wwx and jc lose their core. they mad angry abt it, at the others throat- codependecy spirals. maybe they fuck. maybe they don't. anyways.

wwx invents demonic cultivation with the intent to protect-- he's mad about it being safe coz his shidi is gonna have to learn it to rebuild lotus pier and take revenge. they'd do it together. cue mad frenzy! wwx, jc handling it with the same ease he's done for years, and wen sibs watching this absolute clusterfuck wondering if these freaks are brothers or lovers or a secret third option.

demonic cultivation being so op and still mad safe because that's his shidi who he has to protect! . maybe they figure out how to power zidian through resentful energy

so you have DEMONIC CULTIVATORS! JC and WWX, both of them. rebuilding lotus pier, taking in E.V.E.R.Y.O.N.E that passes their dodgy moral code. unconventional sect numero uno. super-effing-powerful. No. 1 power couple #lifegoals.

nobody knows whether these two are fucking or not. even i don't. parasitic relationship but like lichen.

Jin Ling don't exist (sad face) but Jiang Yuan, sect heir, new gen demonic + spiritual cultivator, all around powerhouse. his xian-gege and wanyin-ge are so so proud.

where's the rest of the world, isaac? where's lan zhan. oops. forgot about them. pretend they're avoiding the demonic cult. (baby there's so many holes in the plot that it's practically cartoon cheese.) I just know there's gonna be a lot of cultivation science. and politics. and worldbuilding. and wwx being shidifucker extraordinaire.

B) blur on the horizon AU

title from Lady Lazarus by Slyvia Plath. //my brother is still alive. still dead. was brought back with a lazarus shot and a slap to the face// when visibility's poor, i'm the blur on the horizon//

wwx dies. and wakes up. not in mo xuanyu's body.. but in some random cultivator's body. like. and year or two post siege or burial mounds

he travels straight to jc. lotus pier still be recruiting. the recruiters take in this shady man.. let's be real. everyone here is just as shady.

he get's the intro. gets shown the rebuilt pier, the rules and The List. The List being how to defend gongzhu from shitty people and shittier politics. he's so fawking proud bit also resentful and angry because he should have been there. twin prides on yunmeng, remember? (for once in my life let wwx be the more bitter one abt yunmeng shuangjie yeah?)

WWX tries to stay away from JC. but he can't. let's be real he cant.

he climbs up the ranks fast... everyone can see this man would give his life for sect leader jiang. cue Second in Command being WWX 2.0 . wwx, for his part is so bitter but also incandescently happy. man never met an emotion he couldn't twist.

Jiang Cheng is wondering why this random cultivator seems so familiar. it get's so bad that he uses zidian to check this one whether he's wwx every once in a while.

but Jiang Cheng is also so tired of seeing ghosts from the corner of his eyes. and jin ling likes this new SIC when he barely likes anyone apart from his jiujiu. he lets go a little. wwx can wait, for once in his life.

cue wwx gaslighting jc into thinking there's no way this one could be wwx. also him being conflicted because on one hand jc's starting to trust him, and this life is almost everything he's dreamed of, but on the other, he's doing this as Random Cultivator and not WWX, how could you forget me, Shidi?

again, for once in my life let wwx be the more bitter one abt yunmeng shuangjie yeah?

idk i havent resolved this one. but there's a scene where wwx finds out abt chenqing, and jc in a fit of anger, after a hell lot of provoking, talks abt how SIC should have been his brother's (the feared yilling laozhu's) and not some strangers. and jc thinks this guy's gonna run far away from the madman his sect leader is but he's only more loyal more sticky more everything? is everything alright up in his head??

C) digging your grave AU (attempted sexual assault tw. it fails and the man's dead.)

title from Richard Siken's / our father who art in heaven / our father who art buried in the yard / someone is digging your grave right now. /

all of jiang cheng's life, he's never been wanted first, yeah? His father prefers his elder, adopted brother. His mother prefers her work and if she has to interact with someone it's his elder sister. His elder sister's got her own life- a boyfriend madly in love with her- a future mother-in-law who's more of a mother than her own- and sometimes Jiang Cheng thinks even she prefers Wei Wuxian more than him. (jin guangshan was rich, and is dead, good riddance.)

the only one who's cared about him is Wei Wuxian- JC's always been his person for wwx. and that matters so much... here's the person who loves Jiang Cheng for himself, someone for who he isn't a disappointment.

so when one day, on the day of wei changze and cangse sanren's tenth death anniversary, jiang fengmian, drunk out of his mind, tries to kiss wwx, saying how he looks so much like his parents and jc watches it happen. he sees how wwx is so fucking scared.. his brother, his person, the only person who has ever mattered is terrified.. and he just. sees scared and so fucking angry that he doesn't think. it's red. grabs his mother's favourite vase, and smashes is against his father's head

there's a dead man on the floor, bleeding into the carpet. baby jc going hysterical that he killed his dad. and wwx is cold. he can think it through. he's been betrayed by a man he thought as a father... and there's no one he can trust anymore. he has to save jc.

they bury jiang fengmian in the backyard, and run. they dont look back.

years later, jiang fengmian is a homicide case, wwx is a deranged kidnapper and murderer still at large, and jiang cheng is presumed dead. meanwhile, there's two lovely men living in a backwater town, bickering like old married couples do, and it's so nice to see love is in the air. nothing strange about them, yeah? they must have had those old-fashioned prejudiced people for parents. good on them for running away.

@jcs-singular-slut-strand come see what i wrote!!

#mdzs #the untamed #jiang cheng #jiang wanyin #wei ying #wei wuxian #chengxian #xiancheng #to the point of invention AU #blur on the horizon AU #digging your grave AU #anon asks #anon #asks #people are sending me fandom asks?? i'm so flattered!! #*mine: fanfic #if you guys let this one flunk i'll start crying #love my aus please

[nyelaexe]

Yet again the same fucking facility needs even MORE paperwork from me. My last deadline to get my other files in was October 2nd and I didn't get the letter until Friday September 29th so I only had that day to scramble and get my bank statements from a fucking year ago. Now it looks like they want me to turn in a medical bill or something. The letter was mailed out on the 3rd - the day AFTER I turned in my bank statements. I'm just now receiving the letter on Friday the 13th and it's due Monday the 16th. Which means I have to call on the day of the deadline to find out what the hell they even need because they're closed right now. And then it's possible that my health coverage will get turned off because I don't have what they need. I'm hoping they'll accept the bill for my medicine that just came in today. But whenever I get mail from this place I always open it to see that the mailing date was nearly two fucking weeks before I actually received the letter. And then I always have to run around the city to get what they need. I don't understand why they gave me until the 2nd to turn in my bank statements and then sent out another letter the very next day that they needed a medical bill. Why not just request all that shit at the same time so I don't keep almost missing my deadlines and losing my coverage?

#my last deadline was 10/2 and i didnt get the letter that they needed my bank statements until friday 9/29 #so i only had the day of the deadline to scramble and get that shit together and turn it in to them #now it looks like they need a medical bill. im not sure i even have what they need but i cant call and ask because theyre closed #i have to wait until monday the day of the deadline to call and ask and to try and get the paperwork together #the first letter was mailed on 9/18 and didnt get to me until 9/29. this letter was mailed on 10/3 and didnt get herw until 10/13 #whenever i get mail from this place it always comes super late then im left to run around the city #trying to get the files they need on the day its due its so frustrating #and the part that really makes me mad is that i turned in my bank statements on the 2nd. they sent this new letter on the 3rd #why not just wait and request everything at once instead of asking for it one at a time #so i dont have to keep stressing out and begging for rides from people to try and turn everything in #and even though the letter got here late which isnt my fault if i dont give them what they need then im cut off my health insurance #and i dont get to go to the doctor or get my medicine #i dont even know what they need and i cant call because its 5 pm on a friday #and i then itll be the weekend so everything is closed

[leviathanspain]

self control

king george iii x reader

synopsis: one of the doctors orders was to abstain from sexual activity, but when did you ever take orders?

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“there he is.” brimsley pointed down to the king, knee deep in the soil, a farming tool in his hands. his shirt was gone, and rightfully so, the sun was scorching today. you maintained composure in front of brimsley but thoughts about your husband, and his body, ran through your mind.

“brimsley..” you didn’t take your eyes off the sight, “do you know if the king has an appointment to see his doctor, today?” you struggled to form the words, especially when you were looking at the breathtaking sight.

the window latch was loose and you pushed it open, opting to remain and stare at your husband until brimsley came back with the news.

“no, your majesty, but i shall find out.” he walked away to the door, most likely to send a servant out to find out, as he hardly left your side, but you remained glued.

george’s chest was falling heavy as he worked in his farm. he was so focused that he didn’t even bother to wipe his brow.

“your majesty, the queen.” reynolds announced you, an unreadable expression on his face as he stared at brimsley.

george didn’t turn around, almost as if had hardly heard the butler. you cleared your throat, and still, no answer.

“george!” you practically stomped the ground to get his attention and finally, he turned around, a pleasant smile on his face.

you rolled your eyes, “stop pretending as if you didn’t hear me.” you stepped closer, watching out for the giant piles of soil around you, “come inside, it’s getting late.” you held a hand out to him but he didn’t take it. instead he brushed past you and stared up at the sky, “it’s nighttime already?” he wiped his hands on his trousers, “reynolds, i think i’ll take my dinner in the observatory.” the butler nodded and began to walk away and you huffed, “no, darling, i was hoping you’d take dinner elsewhere.”

george raised his eyebrows, “where?”

you shrugged, “with me? at the dinner table? like husband and wife?” you clasped your own hands together as you looked at him expectantly.

george stared for a moment until he opened his mouth to answer, “i don’t think so, darling. the stars look rather interesting tonight.” he didn’t say much as he followed reynolds to the observatory, leaving you with your butler, in the dust.

brimsley held a hand out to you, “your majesty.” he motioned to the holes in the ground and you nodded, handing him your hand.

you threw your hands up in exasperation. george was off in the observatory, watching the stars, while you laid in bed, your mind consumed completely of him.

the ache you had to feel him was impossible to ignore. all you wanted was him, especially watching him work outside, had left you hot and bothered.

you opened your doors and the guards stared at you, “your majesty,” they bowed, “shouldn’t you retire to bed now?” they sounded scared, as if they had said something they shouldn’t have, but you were too fired up to even bother to notice, “take me to my husband. now.” you demanded, and they moved with efficiency that you had never seen before.

the doors burst open and george’s attention shifted completely to you, standing there, ravishingly so. his lip drew back into a smile, and he greeted you, “darling!”

you turned back and looked at the guards, “leave us.” you looked at reynolds, who had taken up residence as a fixture in the back corner, “you as well.”

reynolds looked at george who nodded, and you waited in silence as they all left.

finally, you turned to george, grabbing one of his arms, “georgie..” you whispered, but george already knew what you wanted by the mere tone of your voice, “the doctor said-“

“i know what the doctor said.” you responded sternly, “i just- i cant. i need you, now.” you whispered again, your breathe hot as you leaned against him.

george smirked slightly, “i cant darling.” you huffed with annoyance and began to walk away, but george grabbed your arm, holding you back. your back hit his chest as he held you, his arm wrapping itself around your shoulders, “but you know what i can do..” his free hand moved to the front of your robe, peeling it back as he felt the thin fabric of the nightgown.

he bit back a groan, imagining the feeling of you around him, and instead drove his hand to your thighs, his hands gripping the supple skin of your legs, before his hand dove completely to your cunt.

you gripped the hand around your shoulders with surprise, his other hand found your clit, and began to furiously rub it. you moaned slightly, and george whipped you around, letting you lean against the wall as he suddenly found himself on his knees.

he looked up at you, with his hand deep in your cunt, his fingers inside of you, he winked. you grabbed at his hair, “oh-“ you moaned, as he moved in at out of you with a furious pace.

“georgie-“ you cried, “oh fuck,” you shuddered, the undoing was washing over you, your hands gripped onto the fabric of your nightgown.

“give up?” george noticed how slumped you seemed but you shook your head, “more- i want more-“ you moaned, eyes half lidded.

george laughed, “anything you want.” his hands already hiking up your nightgown, the fabric sat on top of your hips.

george didn’t hesitate as he buried his face in your cunt. your whimpers echoed into the large observatory, his name being a constant as he continued to fuck you with his mouth.

george looked up at you, watching your face as you came, your expression ranging from a near cry to a smile of satisfaction.

your legs felt wobbly, your cunt was dripping with your arousal, but george merely kissing the skin of your legs and stomach, before pulling the nightgown down. he stood up and you fell into his arms slightly, “god-“ you panted, “oh my god.” you were in the limbo of pure pleasure, and george kissed your forehead, “go to bed now.”

you wanted to protest, but the heaviness of your eyelids was hard to ignore, and so you kissed him, george biting your lip gently, “i exercised enough of my self control today.” he quipped. you tipped your head back for a small laugh, “next time i catch you in those farmer george trousers..” you trailed off, fingering at his collar.

george nibbled on your lip again and called the guards, “leave now before i keep you here all night.” he gripped the plush of your ass and you hissed, “as if i wouldn’t like that?”

brimsley cleared his throat and you quieted, “goodnight.” you bid him a smile and left, brimsley a close foot behind.

#king george iii #king george iii x reader #king george bridgerton #bridgerton smut #king george iii smut #george x reader #farmer george #farmer george x reader #bridgerton x reader #george bridgerton

[diordeer]

౨ৎ SOMEONE LIKE YOU

“i've been searchin' a long time for someone exactly like you, i’ve been travelin' all around the world waitin' for you to come through” - van morrison (smau)

contains: charlie bushnell x fem!reader, where they play in a movie adaptation of ‘better than the movies’ also pls ignore how i spelt ‘preparation’ wrong

description: i cant lie, before i saw this request i hadnt read the book but my friend had and she loved it so i was like ok lets impulse buy it… let me tell u i finished it so quick im OBSESSED

requested by: @taysbeauty

Liked by iamcharliebushnell, momonatamada and others

yn.ln in the winter in the icy outdoor pool when u jumped in first i went in too!!

tagged iamcharliebushnell

user1 THE DREAM CASTING OMG

user2 “I WANTED WES” 😖😖😖

↳ user3 she gets it

user4 only one more week until this god sent movie comes out 🫡

↳ user5 i think it should be a law to watch every romcom mentioned before watching this in the cinema

↳ yn.ln how can i make this an actual law

iamcharliebushnell im with u even if it makes me blue 🥶🥶

user7 we all know the soundtrack for this movie is gonna HIT

↳ user8 imagine if taylor swift released new years day (taylors version) for it!

↳ user9 i honestly doubt it but i WISH

momonatamada ahhh i cant wait!!

user6 me patiently waiting for the scene when wes reads over livs shoulder ☺️

↳ user11 the tension 😫

user10 i will now never watch a romcom if it doesnt have charlie and yn as the love interests

yn.ln just posted on their story

Seen by dior.n.goodjohn, sabrinacarpenter and others

Liked by yn.ln, walker.scobell and others

iamcharliebushnell how you swoon me like no other!

tagged yn.ln

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user1 can we talk ab how charlie probs took that photo of yn 🩷

user2 IS THAT MR FITZ PERVERT

↳ yn.ln no its michael

user3 them captioning their posts with lyrics from liz and wes’ playlist is KILLING ME

user4 guys i just saw the film wtf it was everything i imagined and MORE

↳ user5 any scene with yn and charlie made me physically kick my legs and giggle in the cinema

yn.ln ooomg do iiii 🤭🤭

↳ iamcharliebushnell i wouldnt say swoon

↳ yn.ln yet u did 🤨

user6 can we talk about their on AND off chemistry pls

↳ user7 THEY ARE LITERALLY IRL WES AND LIZ

dior.n.goodjohn charlie in a romcom?!

↳ iamcharliebushnell u got something against that? 😧🤨

↳ dior.n.goodjohn never!!

user8 dream man playing a dream man

walker.scobell finally he plays a good guy 🙄

↳ iamcharliebushnell i betrayed everyone ONE TIME, get over it

user9 the way better than the movies has almost every trope in the books is insane

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yn.ln hold on to the memories, they will hold onto you!!!!!!

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iamcharliebushnell did u actually just mug me off in the first pic while u look gorgeous in the last one?! absolute bias

↳ yn.ln u look great wdym 😃 plus! i think i got a pretty good photo of u in my last post

↳ iamcharliebushnell mhmm

user1 casually flicking past may jailer?!

↳ yn.ln im posing so cool in the photo, the second charlie took the photo i SCRAMBLED to the till to buy it

↳ iamcharliebushnell can confirm!!

user2 omg their latest interview together i cant 😣🩷

↳ user3 the way charlie looks at yn!!!!!!!

↳ user5 the things i would do for a relationship like theirs

↳ user4 lets be real if anyone played a relationship like liz and wes’ in a movie… you would 100% fall in love

↳ user6 guys they havent even said anything about being together!! and even if they are let them be

↳ user5 OH MY GOD its not that big of a deal get over it user6

kiernanshipka just saw the film, you were incredible!!

↳ yn.ln OH MY GOD I LOVE YOU

taglist: @lostinhisworld @lizziesfirstwife @auttumnsayshi @silkenthusiasts @taygrls @kidkrowk @kanojous @niktwazny303 @m00ng4z3r @highfidelities

#charlie bushnell x reader #luke castellan x reader #percy jackon and the olympians #smau #social media au #aesthetic #charlie bushnell #in the know #x reader #better than the movies #wes bennett

[mushies-stories]

Naruto boys

The first time cockwarming them

Naruto, Shikamaru, Gaara, Kankuro X GNReader

Warnings: SMUT 18+! cock waming, pet names, no use of Y/N

The first time Cock warming them

SMUT BELOW THE CUT

Naruto Uzumaki: sweet and loving S/O

Naruto wouldn't have thought of the idea himself but you, after a night out with some friends and while gossiping, you were introduced to a new idea. So a few nights later while naruto was late coming home you went to seek him out, not wanting to fall asleep without him.

You walked into his office late at night, the room lit only by the desk lamp. He was hunched over his paperwork, eyes tired but face smoothing when he sees it's you. He gives you an apologetic look as you approach his chair. “Sorry sweety, late night. I promise I'll be home soon.” he said.

You shook your head and smiled sweetly, you slid your pants and underwear down and kicked them aside. You brought a leg to slide across his lap so you could straddle him. “No need, ill by just a second.” you as you undid his pants and slid your hand into his boxers and slowly started to pump his cock tell you felt it begin to harden.

His body tensed as he watched you. “Baby, wait a minute I gotta finish these papers.” he said. 

You leaned down and kissed his jaw. “I know.” you said, finally pulling him out so his cock could stand erect. You adjust to you hovering over him with the tip pressed against your entrance and slowly sank down. 

You both let out  gaspy moans as he filled your tight hole. When his cock was fully nestled in you he let out a shaky breath. “So tight, how am I supposed to focus?” he chuckled, feeling your walls flutter around him. 

You yawned and leaned into his chest. Closing your eyes you snuggle into him. “I'll relax in a moment.” you said with content sigh. “Take your time.” you whispered, already dozing off into his warm heat surrounding you. 

He smiled down at you as you were breathing steadily and you finally relaxed around him. In all honesty it took him longer to get his work done, having to take a few breaks to just feel you pulse around him. You got a nice nap in until he was finally done, and finally ready to fuck you properly.

Shikamaru Nara: bratty and needy S/O

He was trying to nap, laying on back with one arm behind his head and the other resting on his stomach when you creeped into the room. You hadn't gotten to spend much time together lately and you were starting to feel lonely. He heard you approaching and opened one eye to look up at you as you stood above him. “Shikamaru, you've been busy all week.” you said with a pout. 

He hummed and closed his eyes again. “Just a little nap.” He said.

You huffed and went to straddle his lap, he didn't even react. You leaned over his body, pressing yourself against him and littering gentle kisses to his neck and jawline. He sighs and opens his eyes, narrowing them down at you. “Cant even wait thirty minutes?” he said with a yawn. 

You shook your head and sucked the skin below his ear while grinding down against his now semi-hard cock. “I’ve been waiting, I cant anymore Shika.” you whined. 

He let out a soft sigh and rolled his eyes. “Aright alright, take your pants off brat.” he said.

You complied and stood to take your pants and underwear off while Shikamaru shimmed his pants down enough to let his cock spring free. You smiled and went back to stadling him, looking down at him with a happy smile. He chuckled and nodded his head once. “Go on.” He said.

You wasted no time in lining up with your entrance and sliding the tip in with a content sigh. Your eyes closed as you slowly sank down on him. Before you could bring yourself back up him his hands were on your hips, slamming you down so his cock was filling you completely. “Shika!” you whined at the sudden harsh movement. 

He just smirked and brought a hand up to the back of your neck and pulled you down to lay your head on his chest. “Nap first, then ill fuck you how you want.” he stated, holding you firm and close. Both hands came to wrap around your back as you sank into him with a drafted grumble. 

He might be a brat himself, but he kept his word and when he woke to find you fast sleep on his chest he couldn't help but hold you sweety against him as his cock slowly started to fuck you awake. 

Gaara: sweet and loving S/O

It was early, much earlier than anyone else would be awake and gaara was sitting in his office, head leaned back and eyes closed. He looked tired and really you couldn't tell if he ever even came to bed since he had a tendency to sneak in late, normally after you fell asleep.

He didn’t notice you standing in the doorway until he heard the click of it shutting and saw you walking over to him with a small smile and tired eyes. “Been here all night?” you ask, coming to stand next to his chair and immediately he pulls you between his legs and hugs your waist so his face is hidden in the fabric of your shirt. 

He nods. “There was just so much paperwork and planning.” he mumbles against you. 

Your hands rake through his hair. “Maybe… I can help you alleviate some stress while you finish up?” you offered, voice hushed and a little uncertain. Gaara was still tricky when it came to intimacy and you didn't want to push him. So you thought you'd at least offer. He looked up at you, waiting to hear what you had to offer. “Sit back for a moment, okay?” you said and he complied, leaning back so you had room to undress your lower half. 

“Darling…” it almost sounded like a warning but even he didn't seem sure of it. You continued and moved to grab the waistband of his pants. You looked up at him with reassuring eyes and he shifted so you could guide his cock free. A small huff ame from him when you sat back in his lap and pushed the tip to your tight hole. “I have work my love.” he stated, holding your hips still above his already hard cock.

You smiled sweetly and kissed his cheek. “I know, let me help?” you said, trying your best at puppy eyes. He chuckled softly and allowed you to sink down on him. He closed his eyes briefly as he felt his cock sink into your tight hole but held his sounds in while you let out breath gasps when you felt he was fully in. Once you were comfortable in his lap you brought your arms up to wrap around his shoulders and leaned into him. “I'll be right here waiting for you to be done.” you said, kissing the side of his neck. 

You waited so patiently for him to finish his work and when he was finally done he made sure to thank you. 

Kankuro: sweet and needy S/O

He was working on a puppet late at night, repairing it in time for a mission coming up. You had woken in the middle of the night feeling particularly needy only to find your bed empty and your heart feeling similar. your fingers grasped for Kankuro but found nothing. You knew where he probably was and rushed down the stairs to his workshop. All you wore was his shirt and a pair of underwear as you bare feet hit the cold ground.

His head snapped up when he heard the door creek open. You stood peering your head to see where he was. you looked so sweet and tired and his heart leaped when you finally followed the dim light to his work space in the corner of the room and your eyes finally found him. “It's late.” He said. 

You smiled sheepishly and stepped into the room and closed the door behind you. You padded over to stand opposite him on the other side of his work table where puppet pisces and bits were all strung about. “I know, I just… I wanted to see you.” you practically whispered. 

The faint blush creeping on your cheeks told him you wanted something more than just to see him. He smiled sweetly and set the part he was working on down. “That so sweetheart? You just wanted to see me in the middle of the night?” 

You looked away for a moment before looking back to Kankuro. You knew that wasn't the only reason but you didn't want to bother him while he was working. “Mhhmm” you hummed. 

He nodded with a small smirk. “Would you like to help me while I work baby?” he asked.

Your eyes gleamed at his words. “Can i?” 

He smiled and leaned back. Your eyes followed his movement as he slid a hand down the front of his pants and started to pump his cock as he looked at you with soft eyes. “Take those off and come here?” he asked, motioning to your pants with his free hand.

He freed his cock as he watched you discard your pants and underwear and came around to stand between his legs. He guided your hips with both hands to straddle his thighs while his cock pushed into your little hole. You whimpered softly into his neck while you clung to his chest. “sshh, relax for me.” he soothed, finally bottoming out in you. “Now, you keep me nice and warm while I work okay?” he said, picking his part and tools back up. 

You let out a soft sigh and nuzzle yourself into him, perfectly content and stuffed.

#naruto x reader #naruto x reader smut #gaara x reader #gaara x reader smut #shikamaru x reader #shikamaru x reader smut #naruto imagine #kankuro #kankuro x reader #kankuro x reader smut #kankuro smut #gaara smut #shikamaru smut #naruto imagines #naruto smut

[beababoobies]

ME AGAIN!!! WITH A SAL X READER REQUEST (again) THIS TIME AIDJSJDH. a porn one at that !!!!

i need sal so bad its an actual problem

just like. imagine reader n the gang r havin a little sleepover. and reader is just so inconsolably turned on for some reason (maybe sal had his hand on their thigh when they watched a movie or smthin), so when everyone is asleep they asks sal to help them out :,,,) (his fingers r just so long n pretty,, they cant help but want them lol)

mayb he has to keep them quiet somehow, mayb covers their mouth/puts his fingers in their mouth to muffle them

hes so shy and nervous and awkward but he’s having the time of his life, watching the reader’s reactions. mayb he cant help but get himself off too, too enraptured by the way reader struggles to gasp and whine against his fingers

GOD DAMN.

would love if u wrote this mootie 🫶🏼🫶🏼 no pressure ofc ofc ofc !! (fem bodied reader pls if u dont mind <3!)

(i might write this too, i love my mind sometimes 🙏)

hey mootie!! Im giving you the fast pass because all the jjk stuff you repost got me into the series and I’m loving it, also cus you’re AMAZING! All characters are aged 20+ because this is based in chapter five of course, please do enjoy! :) (and for everyone waiting for their Hazbin requests to be filled - IT IS COMING! I am a busy woman.) 

Needy - Sal Fisher X Fem!Reader

words : 2k, warnings : SPICAYYYY!!, creampie, fingering, slightly public, needy!sal AND needy!reader, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it guys, c’mon), hold the moan trope

The entire gang had been having more sleepovers ever since Sal and Todd had found the new house. Larry was moving in so it was just the normal next step, and you loved coming over so much. More specifically to spend time with your boyfriend, but also just to feel like old times again. Even Ash came from the city every once and a while, and this was one of those days.

Since it was Larry’s last day living in the Apartments, you had all agreed to made the most out of that small basement apartment you had spent so much of your awkward teen years in. You had been doing all the same shit you used to all day - smoking in the treehouse, playing card games for hours. 

You and Sal huddled up around his old gamebuddy, playing the games Larry had kept long forgotten in the corners of his room, Larry and Ash painting on a shared canvas, chatting about life while Larry’s old metal mixtapes blasted in the background, and Todd and Neil cuddled up on the beanbag in the corner, occasionally joining in their conversation, but mostly just cuddled up and enjoying each others company. All of this was wonderful, nostalgic - even healing. 

That was all up until Sal quietly suggested you all watched an old horror movie, and you were all huddled together in the dark, you with Sal leaning on your shoulder on your right, and Ash on your left, giggling and nudging you like old times. Larry laid out casually on the floor in front of you all because of how shit his eyes were from years of refusing glasses. Which should’ve been fine.

In fact - it was fine. Until Sal decided it would be a wonderful idea to put his hand on your thigh. Your bare thigh, just below where your miniskirt started. And even that - even that, you could’ve survived with some unwanted heat in your panties. But no, the blue fucker jumped at one of the scenes, hand sliding up the inside of your thigh to accidentally drag your skirt up, his hand knocking against your warm core - hand rubbing up against your clothed clit as he pulled his hand away, and all you could do was pull your hand away from where it was sweetly brushing through Ashley’s hair like you used to do, straight to your face to hide the unbelievably needy whine you would’ve let out.

“you okay?” Ashley whispers softly, looking over to you and you just nod quickly, watching her go back to watching the movie before shooting Sal a venomous glance, which he avoids nervously, already feeling your stare of death shoot through the side of his head. You pierced your lips together, putting one leg over the other and squeezing your thighs firmly shut, Sal’s hand now comfortably resting much, much lower on your thigh. Practically on your calve, as he preferred not to die tonight. 

But that’s when it started, the unwanted slick already gently collecting in your panties, your mind running through all the things you wanted to do to him - what you wanted him to do to you. God, your mind was like a dog in heat. You couldn’t even bear to focus on the movie, sitting there, cautiously eyeing up your dead silent boyfriend. His shirt ridden up his stomach just oh-so-slightly from the way he was slouched back, soft happy trail of blue peeking out from under his shirt. God, what you would do to pull those stupid red torn up jeans down - not even fully - and ride him until he was shooting blanks and sobbing under you. 

That is how it went on for the rest of the movie. That is exactly how it went on when you all decided the sleeping plan. That is where your mind still was when you and Sal decided to take the pullout couch, Todd and Neil in Lisa’s old room, and Larry sleeping on his bed with Ashley on a cot on his floor. With the thinnest fucking walls known to man kind. You should know - you grew up with the same ones. 

Sal yawned as he laid next to you, mask placed softly on the table right beside the couch, as well as his glass eye floating in a cup, looking at you nervously as he pulled the covers up over himself too, gently wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you into him from behind, expecting you to be asleep by now - you were a heavy sleeper, he was an insomniac. It worked out like that. Until he heard a soft, half-whine of a whisper come from you. 

“S-sal..” you mumbled softly, pressing yourself back against him, causing him to let out a soft whine of his own, hand around your waist flinching ever so softly. “P-please baby, need you so bad..” you mumbled out softly, turning around to face him, seeing the needy tears in your eyes had him melting as well, piercing his lips together as he grips softly at your side.

“N-no, you know how thin these walls are - I’m sorry about earlier, but..” he says nervously as he watches you whine and writhe softly, pressing yourself up against him, one hand on his chest. That’s when you decide to make the move, grabbing his hand and moving to in-between your legs so he can feel how absolutely soaked through your panties are, causing him to experimentally run his fingers over them, biting down on his scarred lip so hard he’s concerned it might bleed. You can’t help a choked whine and a buck of your hips against his hand at that, looking up at him with those needy eyes. Fuck. 

He doesn’t say a word as he puts two shaky fingers to your lips, and you wrap your mouth around them without question, twirling your tongue around them and sucking on them like your life depended on it, all while he shakily pulled you panties to the side, prodding his fingers at your soaked hole, a quiet ‘fuck.’ Escaping his mouth when he slides one in with ease, feeling the vibrations around his fingers as you whine. “G-gotta be quiet, please - we h have to be quiet..” he mumbles out messily as he feels his cock throb to life in his sleep shorts, smearing precum across his thigh when he feels your cunt clench needily around his fingers.

He lets out a sigh of relief when you quickly nod at him, squeezing your eyes shut as he slowly starts to curl his long fingers inside of you, the obscene squealing noise making him whimper softly, hips accidentally bucking softly against your thigh as his cock tries to find some sort of friction - daydreaming about how easily he could slip inside you right now with how wet you are - how you would feel around his cock, velvety walks clenching around him and providing him that oh so delicious friction he was searching for. 

His thumb moves to gently circle your clit as you start to find a slow grinding rhythm against his hand, practically riding his fingers as he finds that delicious spongy spot on your walls and pushes his fingers up against it, causing your cunt to give another urgent and needy clench, more slick falling into his palm, making a mess as he tries his best not to whine himself.

The slippery sounds of friction, the feeling of your thigh twitching pressed up right against his own throbbing problem, or the way his fingertips are pressing up against the entrance to your throat, the way his other fingertips are pressed up against your velvety walls. It’s driving him beyond insane, to the point he’s thinking he might cum in his sleep shorts if it continues this way. And he didn’t bring an extra pair - and it would just be a waste if he didn’t cum inside of you - not while you were practically begging for it.  

“B-baby.” He whines out, catching your attention for a second, tears of pleasure falling softly down your face as your hips still, whining against his hand from the way you stopped while being so close - it was beyond downright embarrassing how quickly you were about to cum, and you were honestly glad he stopped you. “C-can i please put it in? J-just the tip, please baby, ‘s so sensitive. Need you so bad.” He whines quietly and softly, pressing his hard on against your thigh to back up his own statement, whining softly again. “Just wann’ cum inside you, please…” he whispers, watching you nod eagerly.

Pulling his fingers out of you with an obscenely wet pop, pulling your soaked panties to the side and he lets out an erotic sigh pressing his face into the crook of your neck as he pulled his shorts down, cock slapping to attention against his abdomen, precum beading from the sensitive tip as he shakily pulled your hips up, grabbing the base of his cock and gently rubbing it against your entrance, and you could hear how wet you were when he moved his tip to part your drenched lips and drag through them, whining into the crook of your neck as you grabbed his shoulders, brain fuzzy with the way his hot tip felt rubbing against your clit, sticky with your own slick. 

He bit down hard on your shoulder as his tip popped past the tight ring of muscles of your entrance, desperately rutting against you, trying not to whine or let slip how good it felt to be inside you - the way your hot, heady slick insides felt like they were trying to pull him in deeper. His hand cupped your mouth quickly, stopping you from making a sound as he gently pushed himself further inside you, feeling you grip tightly at his shoulders, nails digging into his flesh as he broke his promise, pushing his cock inside of you, inch by desperate inch, trying not to slam his entire cock into you at once - which was unbelievably hard, considering how wet you were, and how desperate he was - his tip prodded at your cervix, making you jerk forward, groaning against the palm of his hand.

He rutted into you desperately, not daring to thrust properly, letting everyone else hear how wet and desperate you were, or even worse, how even needier he was for you, the head of his cock bumping against your sweet spot, the only sound in the air being the quiet sounds of your muffled whines, and the quiet rustling of sheets as he ground into you, abdomen rubbing against your clit as he did so, bringing you to the edge so much faster than you ever expected, cunt clenching around him, the sign that you were about to cum. He just nodded into the nape of your neck, hips refusing to stop. 

“m-me too, fuck, me too, me too ‘m gonna cum, ‘s too tight, ‘s so warm.” He half whines, half whispers right into your neck as he detaches his teeth from your shoulder for a second, before hurriedly latching them back onto your neck as you feel his cock violently twitch inside you, whining desperately into his hand as you felt yourself start to cum, cunt clenching around him desperately, slick flooding from you and creating an obscene squelching between you two as you spasmed and arched under him. 

He groaned into your neck as he quickly pulled his face from your neck, smashing his lips desperately against yours, muffling his own groans as he pushes himself as deep into you as he can go, cumming hot ropes into you as he stills, thighs twitching as he pulls his mouth from you, both of you panting and catching your breaths, feeling the warm liquid pool out of you and spill onto Sal’s abdomen as he lets out a small and raspy chuckle, still catching his breath.

 “You’re going to be the fucking death of me.” 

#sal fisher #sally face #sally face x reader #larry johnson #sal fisher x reader #sally fisher #ashley campbell #todd morrison #neil sally face #sal fisher smut #sal fisher x reader smut #JESUS CHRIST!!! WOW!! MY FIRST SMUT!!

[ghost-with-a-teacup]

hi! so i loved the whats in between fic (because everyone does) and i wanted to ask if you could write something like the spiderteens watches broke and they cant get back home so instead of waiting it out in the spider society place they go to miguel and readers house and sleep over! and ofc miguel complaining about just having them fix the watches but that would take too long

𝐒𝐭𝐮𝐜𝐤 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐌𝐢𝐝𝐝𝐥𝐞

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x Reader

Summary: Miles is on a mission that ends up going awry right as it's about to end, and with his watch shattered there's no way to get back home. The answer? Stay at you and Miguel's shared home for the night :3

Warnings: None!! It's really fluffy, Miguel is soft with Miles (I'm sorry I couldn't help it hhhh)

It's late at night as Miles walks through the Spider Society HQ. Far too late for anyone to still be around, everyone was already at home in their own universes. He on the other hand was coming back from a mission that went awry.

It was supposed to be easy. Pop in, pack up the anomaly and head back to drop them off before going home. But for the last 7 hours the villain managed to evade his grasp until he finally cornered them on the edge of town at a shipping dock. But somehow on the trip back to HQ the villain managed to escape both the webbing they were stuck in and the force field keeping them trapped.

Had it not been for the fact that the villain glitched out mid-fight, HQ might be a lot worse for wear than it was. Luckily Miles managed to recapture the villain and place them into the holding area, but not without a cost.

In his hands was his watch, broken to pieces. He already loathed the lashing out he was about to receive from the Leader of the Society, but since there was no way for him to get home otherwise there was no avoiding the conversation.

Making his way through the doorway, he’s surprised to see you analyzing the screens instead of Miguel, having already mentally prepared for the scolding he was about to receive.

Right before he was about to open his mouth to speak, his form glitches out as he groans in pain, his atoms clearly unhappy to be existing in a universe that wasn’t his own.

“Miles!” you say, concern washing over your expression as you finally take note of him. Swinging down from the platform, you grasp his shoulders keeping him upright. “Are you alright? Is there something wrong with your watch?” you ask as you check him over like a worried mother.

“Something wrong? More like it's in multiple different pieces,” Lyla says, popping up behind him and looking at the broken watch he was trying to hide.

Miles’ expression grows even more sheepish as he brings his hands around to show you.

“I’m really sorry, the anomaly I was trying to capture escaped the trap somehow on the way back to HQ,” he says, and your eyes widen as you glance back to your screens. At that moment his body glitches out again, and you look at him worriedly. Then your expression brightens as you remember something.

“Give me one sec, sweetie,” you say with a kind smile before swinging back up toward the platform. Searching around, you reach into Miguel’s top drawer and find just what you were looking for.

“Hey Miles, catch!” you say, tossing him the bracelet. The Spider Society ‘Day Pass’ as Peter liked to call it. Relief immediately washes over his face as he slips the bracelet on, and he says a small ‘thank you’ as you swing back to his level.

“You don’t happen to have any spare watches lying around, do you?” he asks, shuffling back and forth on his feet. A nervous tick you seem to have picked on in the time you have known him.

“Typically we do…but Jess brought in a few new recruits the other day so we just ran out. Lyla, what’s the status on the production of those new watches?” you ask, and she pops over onto your shoulder as she scrolls through her own screens.

“Hm…it should be about another 16 hours until they’re done. We had to have some parts shipped in from the city which put them behind schedule,” she explains.

“Usually we would just fix it for you rather than you getting a brand new watch, but considering the state of yours…” you say, taking the broken watch into your own hands. The screen was shattered, the wristband was practically nonexistent and somehow the circuit board was hanging out in pieces.

“What on Earth even happened to this? Did the anomaly chew it up and spit it out again or something,” you say with a laugh, and Miles only chuckles nervously.

“Yes, actually. That’s exactly what happened,” he winces, and you only laugh harder for a few moments before pulling yourself together, your expression becoming a touch more serious.

“You’re not hurt anywhere, right?” you worry over him, turning him from side to side to check him over. You had a soft spot for the young Spiders here at the society and weren’t afraid to show it. Miguel had one too, though he loathed to admit it.

“No, I’m alright. It’s just my watch that isn’t,” he says, and you smile at him understandingly.

“Alright, but if I sense that you’re lying to me you’re heading straight to the infirmary young man, do you understand?”

“Yes, ma’am!” he says, and you laugh softly.

“Don’t call me ma’am, it makes me feel old,” you say.

“Sorry, ma’am! Wait…” his eyes widen slightly as he realizes his mistake. You only snort.

“We’ll work on it, Miles,” you grin. “The only issue right now is how to get you home…Lyla, is there anyone still at HQ? I left my watch at home since I thought I’d only be staying on base today,” you ask.

“Nope! Sorry, ma’am,” she says jokingly, and you narrow your eyes at her playfully. “Everyone’s missions finished up early today, Miles was the last one back.”

“Damn,” you say as you run through things you could do.

“Since there’s no way to get you back to your universe until the watches finish up…since it’s not too long, how would you feel about staying at me and Miguel’s house for the night? I was about to head back when you came in,” you suggest, and Miles’ face drops at the suggestion.

“Yours and Miguel’s house?” he asks. He knew the two of you were together, you had revealed you were married a few months back but he didn’t think he would be staying at your shared home.

“No offence, but there is no way Miguel would be happy to have somebody staying the night, let alone me,” he says quickly, and you give him a sympathetic look.

“Well, it's a good thing it's not only his house, it's mine too. And I’m inviting you to stay the night, okay? I don’t want you staying at HQ alone, there’s nowhere to sleep unless you want to rest on a hard pillar all night and we have a guest room you can stay at,” you explain, but Miles’ expression is still unsure.

“Look, I know the two of you didn’t exactly get off on the right foot when you first met, but I can give you my word when I say that you are one of the few people he tolerates even if he doesn’t show it. Okay Miles?” you say, and while he doesn’t look like he fully believes you quite yet, he finally relents.

“Alright,” he says, and you pat his shoulder warmly.

“Alright,” you say with a smile. “C’mon, let’s head to my car and we’ll head back to my place, yeah?”

“He won’t be angry that I’m there…right?” Miles asks as he fidgets a bit as he settles into the passenger seat.

“Not on my watch,” you chuckle. “He had the day off, he should be in a great mood. But you know, a lot of his anger is just a front for the things he’s been through. He doesn’t like people getting close to him, and while I admit it isn’t the healthiest coping mechanism, we all deal with grief differently. Do you get what I mean?” you explain as you drive back home.

“Yeah…yeah, I do,” he says softly, and you smile sympathetically as you glance over at him.

Despite the good work that everyone does at the Spider Society, being heroes in their own worlds, they all have some of the most difficult lives. Filled with suffering, grief, secrets and loss. It was the lives they were dealt by the hands of fate, and though that fate is shared across the multiverse it didn’t make it any less hard.

“He’s hard on you and your friends because you’re young and he thinks he can mould you into the heroes he wants you to be, which isn’t right and I tell him that often. But it also means he thinks you all have greater potential beyond what you can see, and he does care…even if he struggles to show it. Don’t worry too much, sweetheart,” you say. You knew you were rambling, but you just wanted to ease his worries at least a bit. He nods before his stomach interrupts the conversation.

You laugh a bit as a flustered expression washes over his face.

“Hungry? I’ll whip up something for a late-night dinner, I’m pretty hungry myself. How does that sound?” you say warmly, and he nods.

“…Thank you, really. I’m grateful you’re doing all this for me, you really didn’t have to,” he says, and you shake your head.

“Don’t worry about it, Miles. I quite adore you and your little friends, even if you do get up to the most trouble,” you say, memories of them and all their pranks around HQ playing through your head as you pull up to your driveway.

The house was a bit outside of the main city, somewhere quiet and less industrial than the heart of Nueva York. The lights were still on in the living room, indicating that Miguel hadn’t yet gone to bed which was to be expected. He always waited up for you to come home, (not to mention he had the worst sleep schedule).

“C’mon sweetheart,” you say, stepping out of the car. But you notice Miles’ expression, looking absolutely terrified even though he tried his best to hide it. You couldn’t help but laugh a bit.

“Miles, you’ve been here before. I promise it’s alright, okay?”

“Okay,” he says, finally smiling a bit.

You both walk up the front steps, and you unlock the door like you’ve done so many times before.

“Mi vida,” you hear Miguel’s voice say as he appears around the corner. It washes over you like a warm summer breeze, and you feel the tension leave your body as you finally return home. You can’t help the soft smile that plays across your face.

“Hello, darling,” you say, and he can’t help but smile back.

“Now…I know I didn’t give you a heads up but,” you say as you pull Miles out from where he was hiding behind the front door. Immediately Miguel’s expression drops slightly, not so much in anger but more so in annoyance that there was someone there to interrupt his time with his wife.

“Before you say anything, Miles’ watch broke on the way back from a mission, and you know that the new watches are still in production since we ran out a few days ago so I figured since they would be done relatively soon, he can stay the night and head back to his universe in the morning?” you say, not so much asking but telling him much to his dismay.

For a moment he only sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose before looking back at you. He could never stay upset at you, at least not for long.

“While a warning would have been nice, mi alma,” he scolds lightly, and you grin sheepishly.

“You can stay the night Miles, though it would do you well to not break any more watches in the future,” he chastises, and Miles straightens up almost comically.

“Yes, sir! I’m really sorry about that, the villain managed to escape the trap somehow and managed to bite it off of my arm before I could get away, and then it got really hectic back at HQ but don’t worry though because there isn’t too much damage, and I managed to clean up the most of it but there might still be some debris around and-” he rambles nervously, but Miguel’s snort of amusement interrupts him.

“Look kid, I get it. Mistakes happen, just don’t make it a point to break Society's property too often, yeah?” Miguel says a kind expression on his face that soothes Miles’ nerves.

“Yes, sir!” he says immediately.

“Don’t call me sir, it makes me feel old. Miguel is fine,” he replied, and you laugh slightly at the fact that you said the same thing earlier.

“Come inside already Miles, or are you planning to spend the night on our porch,” you say, pulling him in gently by the wrist.

“Are gorditas alright? I know they’re not exactly dinner food but I’m craving them,” you ask him, noticing Miguel’s expression light up at the mention of them, almost identical to the expression on Miles’ face.

“Gorditas? They’re my favourite!” Miles says, and you smile as you head into the kitchen to whip them up.

“Behave, you two!” you call out as you leave them to their own devices in the living room.

~

Before long, the late dinner is served. Small talk and banter are tossed around the table as you all eat together, then you usher Miles off to bed like a worried Mother given the late hour before heading off to bed yourself with Miguel by your side.

“That was quite the surprise today, mi vida,” Miguel says as you join him in bed, Miles all settled in the guest room and snoring away.

“I know…but he’s a good kid and I felt bad leaving him at HQ alone,” you say sheepishly, peering up to look at him.

“Lyla’s there…” he trails off, and you smack him playfully.

“Miguel,” you chastise, and he raises his hands in surrender as you snort. “I’m kidding! I’m kidding,” he says, and you just shake your head with a smile.

“I felt bad, you know?” you say softly, and he turns a bit more to listen to you speak.

“This life we all live here at the Society? It’s hard, especially for the young ones. I didn’t want him to feel alone in a universe that isn’t even his own, this life is lonely enough as is,” you voice your thoughts. It really was hard, living this life and protecting the canon at the expense of other Spiders’ suffering. Anything you could do for them you would do, to make things at least a bit easier. It’s why you were pretty much Miguel’s right hand alongside Jess, you were the gentle touch paired with his cold calculated self.

“You really do have a soft spot for them, don’t you?” Miguel asks, and you chuckle softly.

“I do, but don’t pretend that I don’t notice you do too my love,” you say, and he scoffs slightly before glancing away. But by now you knew that was one of his tells that he wasn’t being entirely honest with you.

“I’m not soft, querida,” he says, and you give him a knowing look to which he switches off the lights to avoid.

“Whatever you say, tough guy,” you say before snuggling in closer, a content smile on your face as you feel yourself drift off to sleep in his arms.

Taglist: @beiroviski, @scaraza, @blueoorchid,@remuslupinwifee, @local-mr-frog, @johfaam0, @rawegggohan, @honeycriess, @alexenoirex,@chimpkinnuggies ,@rqdior, @banana—belle, @notasadgirlipromise, @6billionyearsold, @gods-perfectidiot, @ieatmunson, @honeii-puff, @wh0re4zaynmalik, @toplinehyunjin, @ohworm-writes, @ishii03, @snowywhiterose

A/N: I can't help it, Miles is just so precious I had to have the reader be motherly with him lol. Thanks for reading! And I apologize for the delay in requests, it's a teensy bit overwhelming but I promise I am working on them!!

#miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o'hara #miguel x reader #miguel ohara x reader #miguel o hara #spiderman #spiderman 2099 #spiderman across the spiderverse #across the spider verse spoilers #across the spiderverse #spiderman atsv #spiderman 2099 x reader

[starrshaddow]

part 2 of that university mizu i wrote

So you have her hoodie right?

Its so big on you btw (reaches your thighs) but it's also very comfy.

You're on your way home, on the bus. She waved at you goodbye from outside the window. Of course you waved back. Without her hoodie, she's just wearing a plain tee shirt.

It's not even cold in the bus.

Hell, its not even that cold outside too.

So u cant help but smile at her caring gesture.

Your hand goes up to your lips to suppress the big smile on your face.

then you realize her hoodie smells like her too.

Now her perfume is stuck on you too.

You could still smell her perfume even after you've taken off her hoodie

___

You texted her that you'll return it tomorrow. You both have your respective classes. she has morning class while you have afternoon classes.

Lmk if your class is done, im waiting outside ur building :))

That was your mesage an hour ago. She didnt respond.

You constantly looked at the time and checked her schedule, double thinking whether or not this is her actual building.

Ding!

I'm omw

it wasnt too long until she walked out of the building with her bag slung over her shoulder. You smile.

Then you notice there was someone else with her.

Whoever he was, he was creating years amount of stress on mizu's face

"Why'd you keep telling me to go away? Not like i'm going to scare her off! Or maybe you're scared. You scared she'd ditch you for me once she sees me? What? You scared?"

"shut up." mizu said through gritted teeth

Then her serious and annoyed expression quickly shifted to a more softer and gentler when she sees you.

Her brow relaxes and she stops walking fast, trying to escape her chatterbox of a 'friend'.

You smile at her and you wave.

You look at the man beside her a polite smile and an acknowledging nod.

You walk to Mizu to give her a paperbag

"thanks"

She looked confused as she peaked inside the paperbag

"its- uh, your hoodie," you point yourself, "the one you let me borrow? Remember? Yesterday?"

She huffed a laugh at your stammering

"i was hoping you're not going to return it."

Huh?

She gave you back the paperbag

"keep it."

You look at it in uncertainty, you glance at the man beside her who also seems kinda surprised, then to mizu who looks at you encouragingly.

Take it.

Is what she seems to say.

So you did, but unable to look her for long in the eye from being flustered.

"Thanks?" you laughed. "Do you want to have breakfast?"

"It's eleven."

You rolled your eyes

"then brunch."

Then you remembered her friend,

"oh,- uh, he can come with if he wants to! What's your name, by the way?"

"Taigen!-" "Absolutely not."

Taigen looked at Mizu like she just told him to go to hell. (she kind of did, in her mizu way)

even you were taken back by her cold COLD COLD voice.

"he's busy." mizu said with finality.

Taigen frowned

"What's with you? Can't i atleast meet your new friend? Its not everyday you get a new friend! Dude, come on!"

Mizu turns to him with a sharp glare behind her glasses.

Taigen huffs and walks away.

"Whatever. Fucking rude." then he smiles at you, a very good smile that probably has the intent in looking handsome. "My names Taigen by the way, if you ever get done with Mizu's bitchiness my number is-"

Mizu just pushed him away by his face and went to you, grabbed you by the hand and speed walked out of there (it was hard to keep up, she walks fast).

"he's something."

"something to get rid of, more of." she responded quickly, it made you laugh.

That was when you started asking her if she have other people in the uni she's close with. She said yes and told you about akemi and ringo.... and taigen.

"out of all of them, i like being with you the most."

GIRL COME ON

SHE'S SUPER INTO YOU BUT YOU DONT WANT TO JUMP INTO CONCLUSIONS

THIS UNI READER AND MIZU IS MAKING ME PULL OUT MY HAIR

Mizu: i am literally in love with you

Reader: oh haha i love my friends too

___

Mizu started introducing you to her friends one by one after that. She wasnt surprised to see you and ringo get along since you both share a very calm and kind vibe.

Akemi, you were a bit hesitant at first. I think you felt somewhat insecure? She just looks so pretty, and...

"Oh, this is (Y/n)? It's nice to finally meet you!"

But when she spoke to you and you start talking to her, she's a very interesting person. She's kind, have that fierceness in her, but honest and polite. She's cool, and you got along well with her.

Then there's taigen.

You didnt hate him, but he does get overwhelming at times. He does say funny comments.

You thought him and mizu's interaction was the best it can be but man, is seeing him, mizu, and akemi banter is the best.

It's like a sitcom. Insults thrown here and there which usually ends with taigen with his ego or face bruised.

___

the most memorable thing you two had was during a party

Its so full of people, like touching shoulders at how many there were and you were both just there to pop in and say hi to akemi, wish her a happy birthday. Stay a few hours and leave to hang out somewhere.

You two love doing that. going in a very extroverted place just to say you went only to leave early to do whatever introverted stuff you two want to do (like stop by the grocery because you needed to restock, or stop by the park on mizu's way home because there are cats there)

anyways, so there were so many people right?? And they were havng fun, its loud, they're dancing. and you're starting to feel bothered by them. You and mizu are holding hands to get through the people. You both want to go home but you still have to find akemi.

She stops to make sure you're close behind her, and just as you were about to catch up to her, the crows moves like a tidal wave you end up being caught in it like a fish caught in the currents.

You get shoved so hard that you let go of mizu's hand and end up stumbling forward.

Youre pressed up to someone

and youre too embarassed and too scared to look.

Then you smell their perfume

Mizu.

Your heart thumps.

And you stopped breathing when she shifts, so your head is tucked under her jaw. Her hand finding its way around your waist

it was like she was shielding you away from the people, a crowd that you hate so much.

She's warm. super warm

Or maybe its just you and your lesbian disaster tendencies?

The fact that your height difference was even made more obvious in this situation wasnt helping

Then the crowd shifts and finally there's space again.

And even when there was space, she didnt pull away.

So you did.

You pulled away because you didnt want to make her uncomfortable, not knowing she cherished every single second of it.

That was the first time you two even made physical contact. Like straight up somewhat intimate physical contact that goes more than hand holding and arm touches.

None of you mentioned it on the way home.

But you were both thinking about it.

(i bet mizu felt giddy over it but her face remained stoic lmao)

___

i think mizu thinks you dont like her back the same way she likes you. (come on, she might as well marry you at this point)

So i think what she did was she wanted to enjoy your presence and convesations and decided she'll tell you when she can see that you feel the same way. if you still dont reciprocate her feelings then she'll definitely court you (in a non obvious way) until you do

___

when she came over to your apartment it was when you definitely trust her lotsa to be there.

You guys watched movies in a projector. Overtime it made mizu sleepy and she drifted off.

You were so invested in the movie you just noticed it when you heard her low soft breathing. (she's quiet during the movie, she made little comments and remarks like "why would she go there? Is she stupid?")

SHES SO CUTE WHEN SHES ASLEEP OKAY

She looks so unguarded.

So you took your phone and snapped a pic. You even replaced her contacts picture to it.

Her hair was down today (rare times). You think it looks great on her too.

when she woke up, she was super embarassed and apologetic

"no, its fine! Dont worry about it." then you showed her her picture. "you look really cute by the way."

Mizu didnt know how to react??? But she did march towards you to grab your phone but you easily held it away and dodged her.

She gave up

so she stood there and looked you directly in the eyes. Face half amused and adoring

"you're such a fucking brat."

Then she left and went back to your couch. Her long hair swaying behind her.

i'd be lying if i said that statement lived rent free in your mind

That was the first time you heard her curse

___

if she went in your home, you did too in her dorm. it was during a school break. Her roommate was away visiting her family.

Turns out she lived closer to the uni than you. It's just a few minutes walk away.

it made you feel warm knowing she had to walk maybe ten minutes? just to wait for the bus with you, and walk another ten to go back here again.

She never mentioned it too

Mizu's a real clean freak kind of person, she wants everything to be organized. But you also learned she cant cook. She even burned a pasta, how do you burn a pasta?!

"i didnt know i had to boil water first."

"well what did you do first?"

She was silent then she turned away from you

"...i placed the pasta in a pan with oil."

You dont know what to say anymore

I think youre the one to teach her (other than ringo) how to cook.

Also when you both were cutting vegetables, mizu held her knife wrong so you'll correct her and teach her how.

"here, let me show you."

You held her and positioned the knife properly on her hand. While you explained and taught her how to easily slice a cabbage, you missed how she cheekily smiled.

We all know how great mizu is with a knife.

She just wanted a reason to hold your hand.

"ringo, i dont think i'll be going to your cooking lessons next week."

"what? why? Is my teaching skills not good?" ringo asked worriedly

"no, you're great, ringo. I just..." she smiled, "want to learn from someone else."

___

I think the gang had enough of you two pining each other like a bunch of idiots, so they all had the plan of getting you both drunk after exams under the excuse of 'celebrating'.

But it didnt work

Because you were incredibly responsible and drink slowly (two hours have passed and you're still drinking from the same glass)

While mizu didnt drink at all (she knows what they're doing and she doesnt like it because she wants you or her to confess during the right time and place while being sober. hell no is she going to drunkleny confess to you at the sidewalk).

The gang (mostly taigen) tried to force either of you to drink but it didnt work.

Akemi nudged taigen from under the table. And that was their cue to go to Plan B.

Plan B? Taigen starts hitting on you (was supposed to be inconspicuously but he's bad at being inconspicuous)

compliments you, jokes that made you laugh, and jabs of insults to mizu.

anyways, i think mizu got annoyed and went up to go to the bathroom.

You notice and excuse yourself from the group. You go after her.

She was cleaning her glasses with the end of her shirt when you got there.

You see the slight furrow in her brow and the tightness on her jaw.

You smile comfortingly at her.

"Wanna ditch this place with me?"

"You can stay. You look like you're enjoying yourself, anyways."

She doesn't return your smile like she usually do. She wasn't joking.

your smile falters and you slowly approach her.

"What do you mean? Of course i am, they're our friends."

I think mizu's upset because she's starting to think you really dont like her at all. Or maybe you just don't like a 'her' in general. You don't giggle the same way as you did to taigen, nor do your eyes shine when he compliments you.

She wants to leave and think.

Mizu sighs and turns to you

"i'm going. Tell them that for me."

"what?" you grab her hand when she walks past you. "Mizu, what- where are you doing? What's wrong?"

Should she say it?

Say how much she likes you that it's absolutely breaking seeing you not realize it?

She wanted to scoff.

Hell no. She's not going to admit just because fucking Taigen started hitting on you.

Then she looks at you, and just like that all her frustrations and annoyance washes away.

You looked genuinely upset and worried for her.

Your eyes are sad, and you're looking up to her like she just told you she's leaving forever.

Oh

She sees it now.

That all this time you have been looking at her differently, but she wasn't able to see it because she sees you all the time.

You look at her with so much longing and care that it made her feel weak.

So she holds your hand that's gripping her wrist and offers you a gentle smile.

"I'm going to tell them we're going. How's that?"

There it is.

Your heartfelt smile.

"Okay."

#mizu x reader #modern mizu

[moonchildstyles]

hemlock

oleander part two: sneaking away to see harry, y/n learned more than she bargained for

wordcount: 16.7k+

—————

The blunt of (Y/N)'s teeth sunk into her bottom lip, holding back the lingering smile that wanted to curl her features. More than once, she peeked through her lashes to the darkly dressed figure sauntering through the apothecary. 

True to his word the last time they had met, Harry returned to the apothecary sooner than usual. It had only been a pair of weeks since she had seen him previous when she was being carted away from his castle. He had been on her mind since, hoping he wouldn't wait the usual two months before she would see him perusing the shelves once more. 

The second that she had seen him step over the threshold of the front door, her heart fluttered through her chest in a rattling beat. A lopsided curl made a home on his own features, but they both stayed quiet. 

They both knew they couldn't exactly boast about their clandestine meetings. Their encounters were unspoken secrets that they could now share in fleeting glances and small smiles. 

It was seemingly harder than ever to keep her eyes to herself and her feet behind the counter this time. That alluring draw of him had been elevated that much higher now that there was more of that connection forged between. More than once, before falling asleep, she sent herself sweet dreams with the final thought of just how concerned he was, reaching for her when she woke up after the storm. 

As if knowing exactly what was on her mind, Harry flicked his gaze over his shoulder to her. She didn't turn away in time, instead allowing her skin to warm when his eyes grazed over her skin. 

He was the first to break the contact before he absently reached for a bundle of lavender sprigs and started towards the counter. They both knew he didn't really need anything new, but shopping for more was the perfect excuse to share space once more. 

"Did you find all that you were looking for, sir?" she asked, repeating the same script she had always given him when he dropped his purchase on the counter. 

"I did, thank you," he smiled, canting his head as he watched her take her time checking him out, "The weather has been rather intense lately, don't you think?" 

She had her head down as he spoke, though she didn't mask the smile that bloomed across her features. She knew what he was getting at. "Definitely. The storms have been unlike the previous years. I had a bit of trouble a few weeks ago during one of the thunderstorms, but I'm doing much better now." 

"Good. I am happy to hear that," he drawled, his voice thick like the velvet she remembered glazing over her skin when she woke up in his castle. "I hope the weather stays stable for a little while longer, as I'm planning on throwing a dinner party in the coming weeks."

(Y/N) perked up, her meandering fingers slowing. "Really? A dinner party?" 

"Yes," he cemented, linking his dark eyes with hers in unwavering contact, "I am planning on it being an intimate affair, only a few in attendance. I do not have the specifics planned out yet, but invitations will be sent out in the coming weeks." 

She really hoped she was picking up on the correct message he was passing along, and it wasn't just her dreamy heart that told her that she would be one of the few receiving an invitation. Her lungs squeezed at the thought of rejoining him at the castle, even if it included the prying eyes of others. 

Collecting herself, she passed back the lavender bundle. "I am sure it will be wonderful, sir. I can't imagine you would plan anything less than flawless." 

"We will have to see," he started, dropping coins on the counter without having to be told the price, "I expect it to be perfect as long as the right guests show up." 

Another meaningful glance was shared between them. A slight quirk appeared on his lips. 

"Until next time, (Y/N)." 

Blinking with a flutter of her lashes, she swore she felt her skin warm despite the low temperature of the shop. "Until next time, sir." 

Using the window beside the counter, (Y/N) watched him head straight towards a midnight carriage drawn by bone-white horses. Pulling over the cobblestone, the coach headed straight back towards the castle, no other stops made.

—————

The rickety stool under (Y/N)'s feet wobbled some as she stretched to the tips of her toes. Her breath was stuck in her throat each time she felt that small stool creak under her feet. No matter the dropping of her stomach every time her stability tottered, she kept up her task of hanging the herbs from the lines criss-crossing through the apothecary. 

Just as she took another twined bundle of lavender from her basket, intending to add it to the row that needed a few more days of drying before being added to the shelves, a knock sounded on the front door of the apothecary. The sound took her by surprise, her balance waning with her hand over her head and toes stretched in her boots. 

The door was unlocked, right? The shop had been open for hours; there was no reason to give a knock to the door.

Nonetheless, (Y/N) carefully climbed down from the stool. Looking towards the door, she saw an unfamiliar, pale face looking through the glass. The sight had a zip of fear going up her spine, her hand fluttering up to rest on her throat. The man on the other side of the door didn't have any reaction to her fright, his features set in expressionless stone. 

While she didn't recognize this man, there were small details that she could also see in Harry. This man had pale skin, and dark eyes. He looked to be impossibly still, stuck in a moment in time. 

He could clearly see her through the glass, a surefire sign that the shop was well open and ready for customers. Still, he stayed out in the late morning dew, patiently waiting for her. 

While there was no way he hadn't caught her reaction, (Y/N) still tried her best to school her expression into something pleasant. Moving across the shop, basket of lavender at her hip, she opened the door for her new patron. 

"Good morning," she greeted, feeling the touch of frigid morning air grazing her skin, "How may I help you, sir?" 

Ignoring her initial question, he only asked, "May I enter?" 

Taken aback, she floundered over her response. "Um—I—" she stumbled. She'd never had to invite a customer in while the shop was open. Collecting herself, she bowed her head as she opened the door wide enough for him to make it through, "Yes. Please, come in." 

He moved deftly over the floor, barely making a sound on the floorboards. "You are Ms. (Y/N), right?" 

Giving a fluttering blink of her eyes, (Y/N) nodded her head. "Yes, I am." 

The man silently pulled out an envelope from his jacket before passing it off to her. Cautiously taking it from his grip, she tried not to appear as curious as she felt when she peered down at the elegant letter now in her hands. 

On the front, in glimmering, burnished gold lettering was her name scripted in looping font. Just the weight alone was enough to show just how important this correspondence was, as if the hand-delivery wasn't enough to give away as much. Only for the fact she still had an audience, (Y/N) refrained from slipping her finger under the blood red wax seal enclosing the flap.

Instead, she tucked it behind her back before looking up towards the footman. 

Only, he was gone. 

She just barely caught him on his way out, the length of his dark hair fluttering behind him as the bell above the door tinkled. The sound was decidedly quieter than when she had pushed the door open herself to let him in. She hadn't even heard him cross the space, the floorboards giving nothing away under his footfalls. 

There was no chance to say anything to him—thank him for the delivery, ask him who the letter was from, anything at all, really. She was unable to catch even what direction he disappeared in, only knowing that she was now alone. 

A grin plucked at her lips at the thought. 

(Y/N) didn't waste a second before she was pulling out the letter once more, wanting to open it as soon as possible while she had the privacy. 

Allowing her eyes to peruse over the gorgeous stationery, she could see the faint flecks of shimmer in the ink used to spell out her name. The wax seal was a vivid red color, embossed with a bold S wreathed in thorns. Doing her best to keep the wax intact, (Y/N) carefully picked at the edge to flip open the flap. Inside, a folded letter awaited on another piece of rich stationary. 

Her breath was stolen as she unfolded the paper, looking over what exactly had been so important to be delivered directly to her hand. 

It was an invitation. 

The ink was the same burnished gold, accented with filigree style line work across the edges. There was a texture to the page, (Y/N) unable to keep from running the pad of her thumb across the page. It was luxurious—the kind of correspondence she figured nobility would have the privilege of receiving. And, it was addressed to her. 

A week from today's date, she was requested to be present at Harry Styles' home for a dinner party in celebration of the turn of the season. The same party he had told her about a week prior. 

There was no doubt she would appear mad to any onlooker that dared to peer through the windows into the shop, seeing as how she was grinning down at the letter. She had hoped this was what Harry had been telling to her without actually saying it—that she would be invited to his home for this dinner. Her heart sped up behind her ribs, her breath shorting in her lungs at the idea of rejoining him at his home. 

Without permission, a squeal escaped (Y/N)'s lips. She couldn't help herself as she twirled her dress fanning around her ankles, as she pressed the letter to her heart. 

There was no doubt she was mad now.

—————

(Y/N) had been riding high all day after her special delivery, only for the comedown to have her face planting into the earth. 

There was another body found. Another young woman laid to rest in the woods with her throat ripped out and no blood left in her body. 

The village was submerged in shades of blue for the rest of the night, including her father by the time he made it home. He had gone out with others of the town to help carry the woman back to the village in hopes of giving her a proper burial with her family. 

He had been practically silent since he scaled the stairs of the apothecary, joining her in the flat above. His energy was hard to ignore, even if her mind continued to wander more than once to the letter she had spent hours memorizing when she had been alone. She had been so excited when receiving the correspondence, but now that giddiness had to live alongside that simpering grief the rest of the village had slipped into. 

There was nothing but the sound of cutlery clinking against their chipped flatware, dinner nothing more than a warming stew and the last of the summer vegetables that had been harvested. Her father saw their home through unseeing eyes, as he couldn't seem to focus on one space for too long before he was flitting to the next. (Y/N) matched his silence, keeping to herself in hopes of allowing the night to pass quickly. In the morning, hope would be restored to her neighbors and she wouldn't feel so out of place still feeling excitement for her invitation. 

"What is that?" 

Blinking with a flutter of her lashes, (Y/N) checked back into the unexpected moment. "Pardon?" 

Her father's eyes were fixed over her shoulder, towards the kitchen where the leftovers of the stew were simmering on the tiny stove implanted in the space. "What is that?" 

Twisting in her seat, she tried to follow his gaze. "There are some leftovers if that is what you are wondering—" 

"No," he cut her off, pushing his chair away from the table before stalking towards the kitchen. 

At the last moment, she realized what exactly had caught his attention. 

During the hours she had been left alone while he aided the village in bringing the young woman in the woods home, she had read and reread and reread the invitation as many times as she could. She admired the gilded writing, the exquisite seal, and every luxurious detail. She had left it out on the counter while she cooked, leaving it in arm's reach. 

That was where it still sat. 

That was where her father was headed. 

For the first time, she felt fortunate for her father's aching joints and the long hours he had been on his feet—even before the trip to the forest. He was moving slow enough for her to jump up and cut him off, as if she were joining him in finding whatever he had fixed his attention on. 

"This?" she asked, plucking up another piece of mail that the Wayfields had sent along with Margret the day previous. "It is only a recipe from Mrs. Wayfield—for her potato soup and the bread with the bubbles she's so skilled at making." 

She waved the envelope for her father to see, though it was decidedly less ornate than that of the one she was currently hiding behind her back. If she could, she would have crossed her fingers in hopes of him falling for her ruse. 

He blinked as he took in what she was trying to pass off as the same piece of mail that had the wax seal and glimmering writing. "There was another letter, (Y/N). Where is it?" 

Her palms began to sweat. Her father would not be happy to know she had been requested by the Count, especially not on a day like today when he had undoubtedly spent plenty of time with those who accused Harry of being a monster. 

"I do not—" 

"What are you hiding behind your back?" 

"Nothing." Her response came too quickly. Her father's eyes narrowed. 

"(Y/N)." 

"It is really nothing," (Y/N) tired again, digging up any kind of excuse she could, "I was doing inventory for downstairs, and—" 

"(Y/N)," he said once more, his voice edging into something sharp and steely. Now wasn't the time, he was telling her. "Let me see." 

She only swallowed, keeping her hand stuck behind her back. 

Everything happened in a vacuum then. Time was ticking with her heartbeats while staying still in the middle of the kitchen. It didn't take much for her father to reach around and grab the letter, ripping it out of her hands before she could even tighten her grip.

There was panic sifting through her veins as she saw him look over the letter, the flap roughly pulled open with the letter folded open with careless fingers. She took quick strides towards him, intending to pull the stationary right out of his hands, to keep him from damaging the page any more or looking over the invitation. There was barely a fight, her father raising it out of her reach with his gaze hardening more and more with every word he read. 

"This is from him? And, you are trying to hide it from me?" he seethed, looking to her with blazing eyes, "After everything that has happened today, you are trying to protect him?" 

A lump sat heavily in her throat, (Y/N) attempting to swallow around it through her eyes never left the letter that was above her head. "It's not like that, father," she tried to argue, "You know he has nothing to do with all of that. It is only a dinner party; I think he is trying to get to know us more, and he knows me from shopping downstairs, so—"

"How do you know?!" he boomed, breaking for the first time (Y/N) had seen since her mother's passing. "How do you know he has nothing to do with the dead girls? How do you know he doesn't have everything to do with it all, (Y/N)? You think it is safe to attend a dinner party at his dungeon? You welcome his advances knowing all that you do?!" 

(Y/N) was rooted in her spot, listening to the tirade her father bubbled off. There was nothing she could say, nothing that could satisfy him no matter how carefully she picked her words. 

"I know he is a well-off man, (Y/N)," he continued, taking her silence as response enough, "But you do not know him, no matter what you have been telling yourself. You daydream, and romanticize, and let your head wander too far from reality. How can you find reason enough to think it is safe to attend a party at his home? Have you already forgotten what you saw in the woods? Do you realize how easy it would be for you to join them?" 

His words stung. He had always had a problem with her active imagination, the willingness she had to let her mind wander and come to the prettier conclusion, the softer avenue. Is that what she had done with Harry? Was that the missing piece? While she was wondering what it would be like to glide across a ballroom in his arms, feel the soft of his lips over her cheek, what the swirls of his curls would feel like between her fingers, the rest of the village was seeing the sharpened teeth and soulless eyes of a beast. Was she really that naive? 

"I have not forgotten about that night, (Y/N). I have not forgotten about the night you were missing, either—wherever you truly were." 

Dropping her gaze to the floorboards, (Y/N) felt her eyes sting. 

While she knew he couldn't have been completely accepting of her lie, this was the first time he had acknowledged that her word hadn't been completely true. 

"I am not letting the next body we find be yours, (Y/N). You are not going to that dinner party, do you understand me?" His command was emphasized with the sound of paper crumpling in his fist. He was ruining her invitation. 

(Y/N)'s tongue was too dry for her mouth, unable to form a single word. 

In a blurry moment, she was aware of her father stretching across the space, throwing the stove door open to reveal the small fire confined to the space. He tossed the letter in, the seal melting and slopping off the page while the paper singed and blackened at the edges before ashing away. 

"Do you understand me, (Y/N)? Look at me, and promise me you will not go." 

Tears welled up in her eyes as she watched the page burn away. How could she have let this happen? 

"Do not take the last of my family away from me," her father pleaded, finally seeming to break through the cloud in her head. 

"I will not go," she agreed in a distant voice. "I understand." 

When her father wrapped his arms around her, (Y/N) wanted to reciprocate with her heart though she could only do so with her arms. 

—————

(Y/N) crawled on her hands and knees, ignoring her designated companion for the afternoon, as she weeded the herb garden. Lucy chattered away behind her as if they both didn't know (Y/N)'s head was miles away.

In her imagination, she was at the grandiose castle that no one else in her village had seen the way she had. She was there with the kindest man she had ever met, the man who cared for her in the middle of a storm when he could have kept moving and abandoned her to her own devices. She saw him when he rushed across the hallway, panicked that she might not be as well as he thought. She saw him as he positioned himself between her and the group of rowdy men spilling out of the pub. Those small things were more than she was sure he even knew, actions that someone who was practically a stranger wouldn't do unless they had a good heart. 

She pinged between the castle, and back to the kitchen of her flat. There, she saw the way her father's eyes had blazed at her, anger boiling under his skin as he reminded her of what he had to lose should she end up one of those in the woods. She saw hints of the mourning man she had met after her mother's passing and her sister's departure. In the end, she knew he was nothing more than a scared father, seeing danger where she didn't. She had never seen him like that before. 

Was she truly so blind? Her father was scared enough to shout and holler at her, keep her from ever spending a second alone, while she couldn't find a single clue as to what would make him think as much when it came to Harry. If she were being honest, she found him to be a better man than her sister's husband, and yet her father had been more than happy for Arabeth when she announced her engagement. Was her head truly so high up in the clouds that she could miss something so terribly wrong with Harry? 

More than once, despite promising to her father that she wouldn't attend the dinner, she had considered what it would be like to go anyway. Though that thought never made it too far as soon as she remembered just how easily information like that would spread through the village—everyone was too nosy for their own good and would love to share a sighting of her up at the castle despite her vow. Besides, as dumbfounded as she was when it came to the aversion some felt to Harry, she couldn't deceive her father any more than she already had.

She loved and cared about her father, even if they were on the opposite sides of so many debates these days. He worried about her beyond reason at times, but she had to understand him. Even if that meant skipping out on the dinner party and going against the romantic heart sitting in her chest.

"Right, (Y/N)?" Lucy bubbled.

"Right," (Y/N) blindly answered, blinking out of her head. She didn't have a single idea of what exactly she was agreeing to, but it made Lucy happy. 

She had given the right answer.

That was all that mattered.

—————

Twirling around on ornately beaded shoes, (Y/N) looked up in wonder at the castle walls covered in gorgeous, hand-painted patterns. Her dress fanned out around her like creamy frosting on a tea cake. From steps away, she could feel Harry's eyes on her as she traipsed around his home, adoring each and every detail she found. 

"There is more, if you are ready to move on?" he offered, bouncing his eyebrows as if to tell her that she definitely wants to be ready to move on. She couldn't imagine what else he could show her on this tour that could top the places that had already blown her mind.

Nonetheless, she placed her palm in his offered hand, biting back a smile at the feel of his cool skin. 

He guided her through the halls until they hit the back door. Outside, a garden awaited. Trees full of dripping wisteria greeted her, the lilac shining like the moon above. Lines of honeyed foxglove and velvet roses drew the boundaries around a perfect lawn. He pulled her along with him to the middle, beams of moonlight highlighting the pale shade of green he had dressed in for the occasion.

"Dance with me?" he asked her, coal eyes adoring over her features. 

All it took was a nod of her head before she was pulled towards him, a symphony striking up without warning. 

He twirled her through the grass, fallen wisteria petals kicking up around her gown, the roses swaying as if reaching out to touch them. Harry looked like a prince, complete with soft hands and a tender smile. 

After twirling enough to get a giggle in her chest and head turning, Harry pulled her to his chest, settling down. 

"I have missed you so, darling," he crooned, lips by her ear, "I fear I can no longer wait such stretches between seeing you—I don't have the strength to deprive myself." Looking up at him, she saw deep shadows cast across one half of his face while the other was bathed in the pastel light of the stars. "You take up more and more of my mind everyday." 

An easy grin took place on her lips. He thought about her as much as she did he?

"Kiss me, darling." 

Eagerly stretching to the tips of her toes, (Y/N) didn't hesitate to pucker her lips. She could feel the tip of his nose grazing her own, skin chilled against her heat. 

The faintest brush of his lips against hers, lashes fluttering—

Breathing in a gasp, (Y/N) was pulled from her dreams. Despite her stilted breathing, her heart had never been so steady in her chest.

While she tried to never read too much into her dreams, she couldn't help but to feel as if this night had been a sign. She had just decided that tomorrow night, she would stay home as usual, skipping the immaculate dinner at the Count's home, only to find herself touring his grounds in her dreams. 

She was supposed to join the fray tomorrow, she cemented. She would find a way to keep the event from her father, from the nosy neighbors, anything to keep the night from souring. 

So many variables sung through her, asking how at all she would make it up to the castle without an escort, how she would even skirt past her father in the first place, how, how, how. (Y/N) ignored them all for the time being, instead allowing a smile to settle on her features as she laid back. 

This time tomorrow, she would hopefully be in his arms.

—————

"Goodnight," (Y/N) pleasantly chirped, accepting her father's hug and kiss on the forehead. 

"Goodnight, love." His parting words were the last she heard from him before they both retreated to their separate bedrooms. 

The moon was bright in the sky as she closed the door to her bedroom. With her window open just a crack, there was little sound tittering through the village. The only vestiges of the busy Friday came from the tavern down the block that was just beginning to gear up for the night. 

While the prospect of others milling about the center of town was a worrying obstacle, (Y/N) was grateful for the kind of cover their presence would offer. The dinner party was set to begin in an hour, and she was going to have to sneak through town and up the winding path to the castle. 

There was no way she was going to make it on time, given the fact she had to wait to ensure her father was truly asleep, ready herself to attend such an event, and make the trip sans carriage. It wasn't an impossible list of tasks, she just hoped that she would still make it in time for dessert. 

Creeping across her room as quietly as possible, (Y/N) tried to prep herself as much as she could without alerting any of the creaky floorboards or sweeping too quickly through her room. She couldn't be sure exactly what her father could hear from his quarters. She couldn't risk him entering and finding her going against his direct wishes of staying away from the castle.

It wasn't until the only blinks of light came in the form of twinkling stars and a sliver of the moon, that (Y/N) was both ready and almost positive that her father was well asleep. She couldn't be completely sure of the latter unless she waltzed into the bedroom and saw him asleep with her own eyes, leaving her to assume the snoring she heard wasn't just an elaborate ruse on his part. Having raided her closet, attempting to find her most lavish of pieces, she was left in a plain purple dress with small beading here and there—it was the same gown she had worn to her sister's wedding, though it was nowhere near as ornate as what she could remember of Harry's estate. She hoped she would still be found acceptable at least. 

Donning her cloak, she took the first step in her plan. Every move she made was calculated and careful as she pried open her window enough to slip through. Dangling her feet over the edge, she felt around for the small ledge offered underneath her window from the sloped awning that wrapped around the building. It wasn't anywhere near stable enough to hold her weight for long, but it was enough to help her down before skirting towards more stable avenues. 

Her skirt caught on the sill for a lingering moment, keeping her from landing as gracefully as she had hoped on the textured ledge. With the heels of her boots clattering against the side of her home, (Y/N) cringed with her eyes crinkling closed. She could feel her heart in her ears, pumping against the confines of her throat as she waited for the slam of her father's door. Long, laborious moments passed before she realized with flooding relief that she had garnered no attention; her father was still well asleep and the patrons of the pub kept up their own noise down the street. She allowed herself then to carefully slide down the uneven awning on her bottom, until she could safely hop down to the soft soil at the back of her home. 

The landing was nowhere near graceful, but it was silent. Straightening up and brushing off the debris that landed on her gown, (Y/N) allowed a small sense of accomplishment to take her. For her first time sneaking away, she had done alright for herself. 

Peering at her herb garden instinctively, she could make out the gaze of her moon-eyed black cat. The kitten played with the bugs floating around, stopping for a moment to match (Y/N)'s eyes. 

A small smile perked over her lips. She could only take this as a good sign—she was doing what she was meant to tonight. 

The first few strides away from her home were done as quietly as possible, with her head down and hood of her cloak on. There was nothing going on in her head other than the hope and prayers that she would make it out of this without being caught. She wished the most pleasant and calming dreams upon her father, anything to keep him deeply in his sleep. 

It was when she had cleared the block of her home without a single person spotting her that she had picked up the pace. The event had to have started at least a half an hour ago, and she had to hustle there if she wanted to experience any of the get-together before the festivities ended. If she was quick, she could make it to the castle within the hour. 

That was if the dark didn't scare her off first, of course. 

That juvenile fear followed her on her trek, breathing down her neck enough to push her into bursts of jogging over the path until she felt as if she had outran her invisible enemy. More than once, glancing towards the woods that weren't that far from the path, her active imagination was sparked, showing her all the things she hoped she would never truly see. 

Forcing herself to keep her focus, (Y/N) did her best to keep her head down and attention placed on the tail end of the party she was eager to catch. Working over the steep hills and sloping declines, she attempted to push herself to go as fast as possible while still keeping her breath in her corset. Every time she looked ahead, she allowed a small celebration knowing that the castle was looming closer and closer with every pace. 

As time ticked on and a bead of sweat dropped down the back of her dress, (Y/N) could only hope she made it in time and wasn't turned away despite the disheveled state she would no doubt turn up in. 

Her legs pumped harder at the thought.

—————

(Y/N) didn't have much memory tied to the lawn of the castle from the last time she had visited. She wasn't even conscious during the arrival, and her departure had seen her entirely wrapped up in Harry himself. This left the sight of the foliage around the otherwise dreary exterior quite the sight. 

As if she had conjured it herself, Harry had what could only be described as a grove of wisteria trees surrounding the grounds. Lavender petals swept across the ground, leaving what emulated a floral moat around the castle itself. From down in the village, she couldn't glimpse any of this, their forest having cut off sight of the magnificence. It was along the facade of the home that she saw long flower beds filled with the gaping mouths of foxglove stalks, blood red roses with thorn laden stems, and bushels of small white flowers growing from purple spotted stems. Hemlock, she knew them to be called—another poisonous variant Harry had unwittingly planted. 

Out front, there wasn't a single carriage or horse awaiting its master's arrival. She wasn't exactly sure what that meant, but maybe the evening was going to drag so long that everyone's transportation had been shooed away for the time being. 

Scaling the sloping hill that led up to the grandiose entrance of the castle, (Y/N)'s huffed breath created small puffs of white in front of her. Despite the chilled temperature, she was still overheated rom her strenuous trek all the way up. 

Approaching the door, she gave herself a moment to primp over the details of her appearance. Pulling her hood from her head, she attempted to smooth out her hair, hoping the twine she had holding back specific strands could hold for a bit longer. Dabbing at her features with the neck of her cloak, she tried to eradicate any sweat that had prickled her features. Though she knew she was dressed nowhere near as nicely as she figured Harry's other friends would be, she still brushed her hands down her dress in a final act before raising her hand to knock at the door. 

Her heartbeat stilled in her chest as she waited. 

When she first heard the click of the knob on the other side, she immediately straightened her posture. 

While there wasn't much she could expect, given there was nothing there for her to compare this evening to, (Y/N) definitely hadn't anticipated having Harry be the one to greet her. After finally meeting one of his staff, he had thought the footman that had delivered her invitation would be the one to deal with the menial task of welcoming her in (or shooing her away). 

Instead, she was gifted with the sight of Harry in an all black getup. The only pops of color came in the form of a forest green cravat and the hint of rouge on his lips. She shied away at the thought of the flush coming from the mouth of a young woman. His skin was just as creamy as she remembered, the planes of his face cut and severe. Nonetheless, when he looked at her, softened edges jumped out, gentling even his dark gaze. 

Making an effort to keep herself from floating over to him as if a moth to a black flame, (Y/N) rooted herself in her spot. "I am so sorry I'm late," she offered, her voice a bit watery and uneven, "I hope you can still accept me, despite the hour." 

The smile that had filled her dreams bloomed across Harry's features, his rouged lips acting like rose petals. 

"You are not late at all," he told her, eyes bright and dazzling, "I could never start without you, my guest of honor." 

(Y/N) felt flushed as he welcomed her in with a flourish, bowing out of the way as if she had any right to that caliber of greeting. 

"Guest of honor?" she asked, stepping over the threshold with shy paces. If she had known as much she would have ran less and dressed nicer. 

"Did I not tell you?" he smiled, shutting the door behind her as she untied the neck of her cloak, "I thought I had put that on every invitation." 

"I think it may have slipped your mind," she told him, playing along with his game. 

Shrugging, he gave her a roguish smile, taking her cloak only to throw it across the back of a lounger planted in her foyer. "It may have." Sidling up next to her, he offered his arm for her to take. (Y/N) settled her hand in the crook of his elbow, biting back the fluttering grin that plucked at her lips. "I suppose we have time for that tour now that you're here, right?" 

Instead of following right after him, (Y/N) turned to him with confusion knitting her brows. She knew he had to be a bit unconventional given his reclusive status, but she figured he knew better than this. 

"But, your guests. Should we not join them for dinner?" 

Amusement lit up his features, shatters of green appearing in his irises. Dipping his chin as he looked at her, he whispered, "May I share a secret with you?" 

(Y/N) couldn't help but to fall into a conspiratorial role with him. She had hoped she would earn a chance to learn everything about him. "Of course, you may." 

Harry huffed a laugh at her intrigue. Ducking his head, he positioned his mouth by her ear. He was close enough she could feel a chill radiating from his skin, his breath fanning across her own. 

"I only invited you." 

Rearing back, (Y/N) felt both flattered and bewildered by his admission. "But," she started, searching his eyes for any kind of tease, "I thought this was supposed to be a party. It's not much of one if there's only me." 

He gave her a shrug, shoulder bouncing with her hand still settled in the bend of his elbow. "Why would I invite others if I am only wishing to see you?" 

Flattery won out over the bewilderment she felt then, a shy smile taking her features. The only way she knew she wasn't dreaming was the degraded state of her dress—she always dressed herself immaculately in her imagination. 

"I am especially happy I could make it, then," she decided, peeking up at him through the fan of her lashes.

The feel of his gaze tracing over her face had (Y/N) straightening her posture with a tickle going down her spine. It was if he were taking note of everything, keeping her expressions to himself for later. A pleased smile plucked at the corner of his lips at whatever he found as he dropped his gaze down her neck. 

"I am, too; more than you know," he shared after a heartbeat, collecting himself before setting his gaze forward. He bobbed his arm under her grip, edging her towards the grand. "Shall we?" 

Though she felt a touch of deja-vu, finding herself in another predicament where she was unchaperoned with Harry at her side once more, (Y/N) was beginning to no longer care what even her father would say should he catch her. No wonder Harry kept to himself and did as he pleased—it was rather satisfying. 

With the silence their only companion, she nodded her head. 

"We shall." 

A dazzling smile spread over his lips. 

—————

(Y/N) was enchanted as she traipsed through Harry's home, her hold on him being the only thing keeping her from being lured away by whatever trinket or art piece that caught her eye. He pointed things out as they went, allowing her to fawn over the grandness he lived in. From the corner of her eye, she thought she saw a fond smile on his lips as he watched her. Though she didn't have an exact idea of what it was like to go on a promenade through royal grounds for a courting date, she figured this is what it felt like. 

His home reflected his personal taste for dark colors and luxurious details. Vases full of the purple blossom she had found out front lined the halls, mixing with the musk of the familiar herbs she sold to him. Deep greens seemed to be the running theme through the color scheme, allowing any other hue to emulate a bloom through the brush of the forest floor, or the night sky peeking through the canopy of trees. There were rooms upon rooms shielded behind heavy walnut doors, no less than a handful down each hall he took her to. There were too many for (Y/N) to keep track of, though Harry seemed to know exactly what was behind each door without a moment's thought; even when she swore they had been turned around and looped in a circle, he knew just where they were with a description of every hidden room. 

With the sheer amount of space he was showing her, Harry didn't have time to show her every single room, to push open the door and introduce her to the space, instead offering the highlights as they went. (Y/N)'s favorites came in the form of a budding library (the walls were complete shelves along with freestanding cases that cozied up a sitting area in the middle; the shelves held enough books to keep anyone busy for over a year but there was still room to grow, giving the possibility to read for a lifetime when full), an adorably grey tea room, and a painter's studio set up for portraits. Even with those spaces that took (Y/N)'s breath and sparked a world of imagination, her most preferred spot was the newly erected structure out behind the castle. It was a greenhouse, he'd said. An entire home the size of her own flat with the sole purpose of nursing and growing any and every kind of plant. 

"It's a budding interest of mine," he said when they had stopped to admire the glass-paneled house through a stretching window of the castle, "You've inspired me." 

It was like he knew that would have her blood warming and her teeth sinking into the pillow of her bottom lip. 

Soon enough they turned down a hallway familiar to (Y/N). This was the same wing that housed her room he boarded her in during the storm. 

"Remember this?" he prodded with raised brows, taking her down the walkway. 

Tipping her head back, she set her sights on the ceiling. Above was the same muted floral mural that had been painted across the rest of the castle ceiling. With her eyes following the thorned vibes through the different blooms, (Y/N) absently nodded her head. 

"This is where my room is." 

It wasn't until she heard his huffed laugh that she realized what she had said. Her eyes rounded out in horror with embarrassment warming her skin. 

"I-I'm so sorry—I misspoke—"

"It's alright," he soothed her, flexing his arm under her hold, "You are the only guest to have ever stayed in this room, so it is yours in my eyes as well."

Harry led her towards the chambers, pushing open the door as if it was another new space for her to explore. Inside, it was just as she remembered, thick velvets and cozy furs. Another bouquet of flowers was delicately perched on the table as if in wait for her. The only difference came in the ornate wardrobe that was now pushed against the wall in front of the four-poster bed. The doors were wide open, showcasing whatever hung inside though from where she stood, (Y/N) couldn't see a single stitch of what it was. 

"Go take a look," he told her, dropping his arm as he urged her forward. 

Without the anchor of his body, (Y/N) drifted towards the open wardrobe, her hands a bundle at her waist. When she saw what exactly had been showcased inside, she felt her jaw fall into a gape. 

Hung up on a satin wrapped hanger was the most gorgeous gown she had ever seen. The fabric was glimmering and slick like silk, redder than anything she had ever seen—as if the fibers had been dyed with fresh blood. The skirt was full, layers of crinoline underneath though the overlay still draped and folded atop the filler. The bodice was a stiff corset, cut with scooping neckline that made (Y/N) want to blush at what it would look like on, tapering straps holding the whole garment upright on the hanger. She kept herself from reaching out to turn the dress, though she wanted to know if she really did see the edge of a bow stationed at the waist for it there was even more dress to be fawned over.

"What do you think?" Harry prodded, his voice closer behind her than she remembered. 

She kept her eyes forward, on the crimson masterpiece. She could only imagine how long it would take to craft something so stunning. 

"It is gorgeous," she sighed. Shaking herself out of her reverie, she turned to look at him with a pleasant smile on her lips. She wasn't here as the guest of honor to give out her fashion advice. "Just like the rest of your home," she recovered as if she hadn't been standing, staring at the dress for a handful of minutes, "Breath-taking." 

His pale lavender lids were on display as he looked at her through the fan of his lashes, a huff of laughter falling from his lips. "Thank you," he told her, "But, what about the gown?" 

"Oh," she sounded, happily taking the excuse to lay her eyes upon the dress once more. Was it possible more of the skirt had unfurled, as if the fabric was closer to that of a blooming rose than a stationary garment? "I've never seen anything more beautiful," she shared honestly, "It would be impossible to find anything to compare." 

"You won't have to worry about that," he mused, stepping around her to pull the hanger from the rod. "Since this one is yours already." 

(Y/N)'s jaw dropped at his declaration. Her eyes downturned as she took in the full of the gown, unsure of what exactly to say to such a claim. 

"I-I," she floundered, unable to find her words, "I'm sorry?" 

Harry looked genuinely pleased with her reaction, proud of himself for finding something she clearly loved so much. "I had this made for you," he told her, presenting the gown to her as he held it up, "When I decided that I wanted to invite you over, I figured I couldn't exactly celebrate my guest of honor without a gift. I hope I didn't assume too much, but I thought you might even like to wear it this evening." 

She had been struck speechless as she listened. Not once had she ever received a gift so grand, so gorgeously outside of her means. 

"But, please," Harry continued when she didn't give an answer, his expression falling some though he tried to hide it, "Do not take this as something you have to accept if you do not want it. You look wonderful already—heartbreakingly so, if I'm honest—and I do not want to force you to change if you'd rather not." 

Unable to hold back her own plume of laughter, (Y/N) shook her head. In what world would her refashioned nightgown look heartbreakingly wonderful? As she had said before, there was nothing that could compare to this dress. 

There had to be etiquette that came with accepting a gift of this caliber, but (Y/N) preferred to use her ignorance to her advantage at the moment. It couldn't be considered too offensive if she loved something he had made just for her. 

"I love it," she reiterated, sneaking a cautious hand out to trace her fingertips over the silken fabric, "I would love to wear it tonight, Harry." 

He brightened immediately at her acceptance, relief touching his features now that he was no longer floundering over his present. "I'm glad," he cemented, laying the garment on the edge of the bed with a flourish, "I will give you a moment to change before we start for dinner, if that's alright?" 

While the draw of the gown was significant, (Y/N) kept her eyes on the man who had given it to her. A giddy smile was on her lips as she looked up at him. With this gift, she would almost look as if she belonged at his side—it would make sense to see her on his arm to a stranger's eyes. 

"Thank you, Harry."

Bowing out of the room, he stopped to tip his head to her. "It is my pleasure, darling." 

—————

Having had enough practice with tying her own corsets and stuffing herself into various dresses for church and other village-wide occasions after her sister moved away, (Y/N) didn't take much time to change into the crimson couture. She had lingered over the process a bit, savoring the feel of the expensive fabric and the novelty tying system on the back (there really was a bow at the bustle, too!), but she had been more excited to meet with Harry once again. Once she had the dress adorning her body—the piece a perfect fit—, she had spotted a few extra pieces lying around the wardrobe that she couldn't help but to use to her advantage. 

A pair of beaded red slippers were snug in the corner of the wardrobe, levels above what she currently had on her feet and had trekked up to his castle in. On a shelf built in above the rod the dress had previously been hung up on, were a pair of long white gloves—the kind (Y/N) could only picture on a princess. She couldn't help herself as she drew on the gloves, the satin glimmering alongside her dress. Using the twine she already had in her hair, she tried to twist her strands into something more elaborate to match her new attire. When she finished, she had settled on an updo, keeping everything out of the way as to show off the gown in its entirety. 

Looking at herself in the mirror, (Y/N) had never seen herself in such a light. The scooping neckline of the dress showed off more skin than she knew a woman could even show in public, the swells of her breasts pushed up and swelling over the corset. The skirt draped itself over her form, creasing and folding in waves that flourished out before hitting the ground. Turning to the side, she could glimpse the bow that had been fastened to the bustle of her dress, a detail she loved more than she had thought. Her gloves came up to the mid of her bicep, the addition making her feel more regal than she had any business to. She felt the only thing missing was a rouge to be swiped over her lips and a red flush to her cheeks. 

Leaving behind her now designated room, her rudimentary gown left behind in a puddle on the floor, (Y/N) half expected Harry to be stationed across the hall from her like the last time she had emerged. Instead, she found herself alone in the stretching corridor. Her heels clicked over the floor as she made her way down. 

While she had already had an eyeful of the space the pair of times she had been escorted down this same hall, she still found something new to look at with every turn of her head. If not for the fact Harry had to be waiting for her on the other side of the castle, she could have luxuriated for hours here. 

Traipsing through for the first time on her own, (Y/N) noticed small details she had overlooked in Harry's presence—particularly the lack of staff. Other than the footman she had seen a week prior, there didn't seem to be anyone else here with Harry despite the size of his home. She would have figured there was a team of people, different departments and leads that would have been tasked with taking care of the grounds, the different wings, everything. And yet, she seemed to be the only beating heart around. 

Perhaps he wanted to have privacy for the night, she figured. Harry definitely was the type to request something of the sort. 

Retracing her steps until she found the same set of grand stairs Harry had escorted her down after she recovered from her fainting spell during the storm, (Y/N) was proud of herself for navigating the maze that was this castle. Just as she crested the mezzanine before the final set of steps to the ground floor, she caught sight of her waiting prince. 

Harry seemingly hadn't realized she was there as she caught him cozying up to a familiar black cat. She could hear the low murmurs of his croons to the moon-eyed kitten, petting his fingers under the scruff of her neck while she leaned into his touch. (Y/N) couldn't contain her own coo once she saw him press a kiss between the cat's ears. 

With that, he realized he was no longer alone, having been caught doling out affection to what (Y/N) had previously thought to be a stray. 

"(Y/N)," he started, gently setting the kitten down back on her paws before she scurried away. He still hadn't looked at her as he brushed his hands down the front of his coat, "I am so sorry. I hadn't realized you were—" 

His words were suddenly stuck in his throat when he cast his gaze upon her. 

(Y/N) have never seen him at a loss for words before, his dark eyes wide with mouth in a soft gape as looked at her. While she had felt his eyes on her before, this moment was different than what she had experienced prior. It was as if his hands were on her, fingertips glancing down her throat, sweeping over her collarbones and cleavage. Her bare skin was chilled where she swore she felt his eyes linger, goosebumps awakening. Was this how he felt when she looked at him? Could he feel how drawn to him she was? Was her romantic heart too high up in the clouds as she assumed that he could experience that similar warm chest and twirling gut that she did when she saw him?

There were intentions behind his eyes—more than what was acceptable for him to say out loud. 

"You look... I don't think there are any words that could describe how you look right now, actually." 

Despite the shy peal of laughter his words elicited from (Y/N), he was thoroughly serious as he spoke. The sentiment only made her heart flutter in her chest.

"Thank you," she smiled, descending the stairs. Harry didn't hesitate to offer her his arm when she reached the landing, pride puffing his chest when she took it without question. "I hope it's alright I'm using a little extra I found in the wardrobe." 

"It is more than alright," he beamed at her, dazzling smile to match the fractures of green swimming to the surface of his coal eyes, "Everything in there is yours now." 

"You don't mean that," she laughed off, diligently following him as he brought her to the dining room. 

"The whole wing could be yours if you asked," he countered, his offer seemingly serious despite his grin. 

Before she could argue, he pushed open a grand door, leading her into the dining room. Inside, a long table sat at the center of the room. Ornate candles lit the space, showcasing hints of gold and shining onyx among the otherwise muted room. On the table was a feast (Y/N) had never seen the likes of before. 

Meats, cheeses, wines, and breads were placed all throughout on pristine china. Steam rolled off the dishes in alluring waves, like the smoke from a candle freshly snuffed. How his staff had pulled something off so elaborate without making a single noise, she couldn't comprehend, but she wasn't about to start asking questions in the face of greatness. 

"My goodness," she murmured. Looking at this spread, she was suddenly grateful that she had taken such an exhaustive route up here. She had all the room in the world to try everything in front of her.

"I was unable to ask for your favorites before tonight, but I hope you'll find something to your liking," Harry prattled, much too modest given the sight before them. 

"I have no doubt," (Y/N) responded, allowing Harry to guide her to an empty chair at the head of the table. 

Once he helped her settle in, he took his own seat on the opposite end of the table. "I hope you don't mind," he started, a goblet in hand already filled with a deep wine, "But I told my staff to take the night off. We'll have to serve ourselves, but this way we'll have more privacy." A beat passed before a furrow appeared in his brows. "Unless you would prefer their presence. I know this is our first formal meeting, so..." 

"No, no, it's alright," she waved him off, not feeling the need to have others present while she dined with him. Besides, she would hate to have been promised the night to herself only to be called back. "I think we'll be able to keep a handle on ourselves."

(Looking down, she just missed the way Harry looked at her with his dark eyes gleaming and a shrewd curl to his lips at her words).

While it was surely odd for Harry, (Y/N) didn't mind serving herself—she did it every day, anyway. With her eyes bigger than her stomach, she couldn't help but to overfill her plate with the way she wanted a bite of everything. Before she knew it, there were three different cheeses, more kinds of dinner bread than she knew even existed, and helpings of figgy chicken, creamy potatoes, and rosemary scented greens. If she could get away with it, she would be grabbing seconds. 

Flicking her gaze up when she realized just how rude it must be to be so engrossed in her meal when her host and sole company was just across the table, she found his eyes already on her over the rim of his wine glass. The crystal just barely hid the amused curl of his lips. 

"I apologize," she mumbled, dropping her gaze though she could still feel his eyes on her features. 

"No need," he said, waving her off, "I'm glad you want to try everything." 

Eased some, she picked up one of the gleaming silver forks complimenting her place setting and began picking at her food. "Do you have any favorites?" she questioned, feeling a bit silly to be asking what his favorite food was. 

He shrugged in response, canting his head some as he raised his wine glass. "I tend to favor the wine at a dinner party, if 'm honest." She watched as he took another sip, the deep red color seemingly staining the crystal. The center of his lips even seemed to take on the dye, emulating that tint of rouge he had started the night with. The wine lingered in the bowl of his glass, seemingly thicker than any spirit she had seen before. "I'd rather hear about your favorites, (Y/N)," Harry said, tipping his head towards her with his features lit up with the amber candlelight. 

A small curl tugged at her lips then. It was an interesting feeling, being so drawn to him and finding comfort in his presence, then remembering that he didn't even know the color of the rainbow she preferred or the season she thrived the most under. Trivialities didn't seem so important when there was that innate need to be around him. 

"What do you want to know?" she preened, unsure of where to start when it came to herself. 

The reflection of the candlelight emulated stars in his eyes as he fixed his gaze to her. His eyes felt like a pair of hands on her body once more. 

It was only when he flicked them up to match her own, that he spoke again: 

"Everything." 

—————

"... I had never seen my sister so mad at me before," (Y/N) laughed, setting her chin in her hand, unconsciously leaning towards Harry from where he relocated to sit at her side. 

The dinner part of the evening had ended some time ago, (Y/N) satisfied with her fill while Harry nursed his never-ending glass of wine. The attention had shifted then, turning to any anecdote of information he could pull out of her on his quest to learn the everything he requested to know about her. Soon enough the space between served to be too much for either of their liking, ending with Harry sidling up beside her, taking one of the unoccupied seats at her side. The intensity of his gaze was unwavering as he listened to anything and everything she had to say, unwilling to miss a single detail no matter how minute the story it was that she shared. More than once (Y/N) had attempted to redirect some of the conversation to him, only for him to casually mention the kinds of travels he'd been on and the people he'd met before he brushed it off in favor of hearing more of her voice. She wondered if he even knew just how intriguing he was, how fascinating his own stories would be to someone like her, who had stayed in the same village all her life. 

"I could imagine," he smiled at her, the cut planes of his features having melted down into soft curves and rounded edges, "You sound like you were a little terror." 

(Y/N) was prepared to counter his teasing remark when the echoing chime sounded from the grandfather clock stationed at the head of the room. The heavy gonging detailed out the time having turned into midnight—much later than (Y/N) had anticipated staying out when she had snuck out at nine. 

Her shoulders fell when she realized that her night had to be coming to an end soon.

"What is wrong?" Harry asked, picking up on the decline in her expression. 

"It's getting very late—later than I thought," she started, turning to him with regret ready on her features, "I won't be able to stay much longer if I don't want anyone noticing I'm gone." 

Harry finally seemed to pick up on the time then. She had shyly shared with him earlier that she hadn't exactly gained permission to join him for the evening, and had still gone anyway, making it so her cover for the night had to be pristine should she want to keep herself out of trouble. 

"I suppose it is rather late," he mused, a pinch appearing between his brows as he stared at the clock, "But, we still have some time, don't we? I don't know if I'm ready to send you home yet." 

The flattery went straight through the ladder of her ribs and to her heart as she listened to him. While she knew better than to linger longer than what she could handle, she knew she wasn't ready for the evening to end either. 

"I just do not want to scare my father again, not after I had disappeared during the storm." 

"Was he very upset?" he asked, concern in his eyes when he turned to face her. 

(Y/N) rolled her lips between her teeth. It wasn't a particularly light topic bringing up the reaction her neighbors had when it came to him. "I hadn't told him that I was with you that night, but I think he knew anyway. There are some... gossips in the village that I think tried to convince him that you had hurt me or tried to keep me away from home." 

His brow creased further at her words. "I am well aware that there are some... unsavory attitudes present when it comes to me and the fact that I don't associate much with the day-to-day of the village and that there have been concerns when it comes to what is being found in the woods, but," Harry paused, his gaze intent on hers with the shattered green of his eyes floating in his irises, "You know I would never hurt you, right, (Y/N)? I care about you—more than I probably should, but the last thing I would ever want is to bring you harm." 

She was not the person that needed to be convinced of his intentions, (Y/N) having seen the genuine concern in his eyes when she woke from her fainting spell, having felt his soft touch, having heard the gentle way he spoke to her as if she were a wounded animal. She knew where his intentions lied and she felt safe within them, but she was still taken aback at the clear set of his eyes, honesty lining his features. She had never doubted him before, but now there was no room for any kind of counter argument that could wiggle in the back of her mind. 

"I believe you," she told him, her voice a sudden whisper as if sharing a secret not to be heard by the walls, "I know you better than they do, and I'll trust your intentions over any rumor. I trust you." 

Harry's eyes rounded out as he listened to her, taking in her genuine take the same way she had his. 

"Thank you," he smiled, matching the soft volume of her voice. Glancing once more at the clock, Harry stood to the full of his height with his hand outstretched towards her, "I don't want to land you in any trouble, but if you have some extra time to spare with me, there was one more place I wanted to show you before the night is over." 

She didn't have to think before she was placing her palm in his, the chill of his skin leaving no other effect but goosebumps on her own. 

—————

(Y/N)'s heels clicked on the glossy, black floor under their feet as Harry escorted her to a grand set of double doors they had initially passed by during his tour. He held a proud smile on his lips when he pushed the door open, the hinges gliding without a noise.

Stepping over the threshold, (Y/N) was drawn in by the sprawling ballroom inside. It was the kind of space that would fit in perfectly for royalty, she thought as she fawned over the sparkling floors and high ceilings. Green and gold accented the space, more flowers spilling out here and there. The walls were elaborately furnished with filigree and art, mirrors strategically placed as if the space didn't look big enough on its own. 

"I've never actually used this room before," Harry murmured, following after her as she took in the space. 

"How could you not?" she answered in awe, twirling around in search of every detail, "I would host parties every night with something like this." 

There was amusement in his tone when he responded, "I think it's rather obvious that I didn't care much for other's company—except for you, of course." 

Her skin warmed at his words. He was teasing her again. She didn't know what to say, only biting back a shy smile as she settled on her feet, turning to find him already looking at her with a clear gaze. 

"I was hoping, before the night is over, that you might dance with me." 

Harry offered her a pale hand, his features softened in wait for her response. 

She didn't have to think before she was placing her palm over his, fingers curling into a hold. "But there's no music?" she said, canting her head. 

Pulling her towards him, Harry matched her gaze. "That's nothing to worry about," he shared, his voice suddenly a low secret between the two.

While (Y/N) didn't exactly understand how he was going to replicate any music without a single musician present, she didn't have time to ask before he was placing a firm hand on her waist and clasping their joined hands in a stiff hold. Instinctively, (Y/N) settled her own hand on his shoulder falling in line with his moves. 

(Y/N) was far from well versed in the proper moves needed to pull off any kind of elaborate routine, but as she looked into his eyes, she didn't need to think before she fell in line with Harry's guidance. After only a moment, the clacking of her heels the only noise, suddenly the ballroom was filled with the delicate singing of a violin and thrumming keys from a pianoforte. 

She wanted to turn her head, to see if there was a hidden stage that she had missed, but she held her gaze steady with Harry's. A dazzling smile pulled at his features, his hand squeezing at her waist as he twirled them around. 

"Better?" he murmured, his voice mixing with the music. 

She could only manage a nod of her head, her own lips beginning to curl to mimic the set of his own. 

Taking a deep breath into her lungs, (Y/N) dropped herself squarely in the moment. This was everything her romantic heart had always desired: flourishing music while she twirled in a gown made only by the finest hands, a handsome, heart-fluttering partner at her side. Poems were written with the sole purpose of attempting to put into words what the feeling she had in her chest was like. Paintings were made depicting the light that came with dancing with one's beloved. Her own dreams urged her to find something like this in her lifetime. 

Time stood still where she was, feeling the cool weight of Harry's hand in her, and the effortless gliding he evoked from her. The music swelled and dipped, taking her through the seasons with Harry twirling and holding her every hour. It could have been days that she stayed there, her eyes fluttered closed with a quiet smile on her face, and she would have barely realized. 

Blinking her eyes open, she saw Harry looking down at her. This was her one—the man in her sonnet, the one in her portrait, who she'd seen in her dreams. 

"I wish I knew what the inside of your head was like," he told her, drawing her away from him only to twirl her in a swirl of crimson. He brought her back to his chest, his hand on her waist slipping to loop around the curve—highly inappropriate though (Y/N) wouldn't dream of stopping him. 

"It is nothing special," she shied away from his words, turning her head as he led them around in the ballroom in a structured circle.

"I doubt that," he said, dipping lower until his lips were at her ear, "You are nothing less than absolutely special, (Y/N)." 

Harry drew her away from him once more, holding his hand up above her head as she was twirled. As she spun, she just barely caught her reflection in the gilded framed mirror hung on the wall. The slash of her red dress caught her eye first, bright against the deep green and dark shades splashed throughout the space. 

But the most jarring part of the sight was the fact that she was dancing alone. 

Harry was nowhere to be seen in that small glimpse, her hand holding nothing but the thin air. 

Before she could truly catch any kind of detail, she had been spun away and back to Harry's chest. 

Not even a single heartbeat of time had been missed while (Y/N)'s skin erupted into goosebumps. What an odd trick of the light, she thought. She must have had more wine than she initially figured.

"Is everything alright?" Harry asked, keeping her firm against his chest though now there was a cream between his brows. 

Shaking her head, (Y/N) cast that glimpse out of her head. It wouldn't have been that hard for him to blend in with the rest of the ballroom, she argued, with the way he was dressed in all black. 

"Yes, I'm alright. Just a little dizzy, I think," she laughed, tightening her hold on his hand. If she really was growing that dizzy and the effects of the wine hitting her that hard, she was going to have to make a real effort to stay upright. 

"Stay close, darling," Harry murmured, "I've got you." 

(Y/N) all but keened at his words, doing as he said and happily staying close to him with the planes of his chest pressing against her corseted breasts. The music reached heights and valleys around them, the strings of the violin singing in a tenor (Y/N) had never dreamed of hearing so smooth. She was transfixed in the moment, twirling and stepping, allowing Harry to guide her every which way. Even when her inadequacy showed, he kept his hold on her strong, catching her through the stumbles with a small smile as if a promise to keep that misstep between them and this empty ballroom. 

A gasp left her lips when Harry stopped them only to fluidly dip her backwards with his face hovering over hers. He held her steady with his arms turning into steady bars around her back and her own looping around his neck. Her gasp turned into a fluff of giggles leaving her throat, never having felt anything like this before. Harry laughed with her, lingering in that stance as she dropped her head back, extending her neck with her eyes closed. 

Time stood still then, (Y/N) luxuriating in the feel of faux-floating in his arms. She swallowed when she felt the icy touch of the very tip of his nose skimming the column of her throat. She felt her lips stretch into a dreamy smile as she cracked her eyes open.

To the side of them, hanging from its gilded frame, was the opulently large mirror she had peeked at a handful of minutes prior. This time, when she peered at her reflection, she could no longer deny what she had seen before.

With her eyes wide, (Y/N) saw herself hovering in mid-air, no other soul present in the ballroom. There were indents in her dress where she knew Harry was holding her, where her skirt flared around their feet and had been pushed back by his legs. But she was the only one seen in the reflection.

Her mouth dropped into a gape, a quiet gasp falling from between her lips. 

"(Y/N)?" he started, righting her position as she went stiff in his arms. She couldn't tear her eyes off of the mirror, watching as the space around her interacted with her with phantom hands. "What is wrong? What are you—" 

In that moment, though she could only see him from the corner of her eye, she figured Harry had to have caught on to what she was seeing—or not seeing, really. 

That pause in the universe as they danced finally resumed in that moment, the trance broken. (Y/N) scrambled out of his arms, dropping her own from around his neck as she stepped back. Her heels clacked over the floor, her skirt dragging. There was no more music tinkling through the space, only echoing silence. 

A pinch knitted her brows together, her head tipping as if she could catch another angle and suddenly see Harry in the glass. 

"D-Do you see it, too?" she whimpered, hoping against all odds that she wasn't losing her mind right now. What was in that wine? 

"(Y/N)," he started, stepping towards her with the movement echoing in the silent hall, "I can explain." 

That had her whirling around in her spot, decidedly moving out of reach from. His response was far from reassuring. 

"What?" she sounded. What was there to explain? All he was supposed to tell her was that yes, he saw his reflection missing too, but that mirror had always been faulty—he was working on fixing the issue, it was nothing for her to worry about. 

This time when she looked at him, (Y/N) swore Harry's eyes had grown darker. The smatterings of green had shied away, leaving only the coal-like expanses against his pale skin. 

He was real, right in front of her. She felt the planes of his body, the strength of his grip. She had seen him through the village, let him hold her, she had seen him interact with others as well. Why couldn't the mirror see him? 

"A-Are you a ghost?" (Y/N) choked out, feeling as crazy as her question sounded. Mary and Ethel would be proud of the nonsensical explanation her brain had handed her. 

When she saw him roll his lips between his teeth, gaze flitting past her and towards the mirror at her back, (Y/N) felt her spine stiffen.

"Not quite," he started, expression grim, "It's complicated." 

While she hadn't exactly had a preferred response in mind, she figured it would have been better than a simple declaration of it’s complicated. (Y/N) began backing away from him then, clarity entering her mind in a chilling sweep. 

Her head had been so in the clouds, luxuriating amongst the swelling music and fanciful notes. She had been too preoccupied with everything Harry, the way she was drawn to him, keening under his attention and mooning over every word of flattery he gave her. Now, details began to fall into place. 

His skin, in her hand and pressed to her chest—even through layers of clothing—was cold. She had never given it much thought, just assuming that he was one of the few that ran colder than others and took the chills easier. Now, she could only see the pale pallor of his skin and the temperature and wonder how easily he would fit in with the corpses found in the forest. His eyes were always so dark, (Y/N) barely unable to differentiate the center from the iris, only when she squinted and took the time could she pick out the shades of green inside. Normal people didn't just... lose their reflection. Mirrors caught it all, no matter how dingy or foggy. Harry was invisible to the glass. 

Her eyes dropped to the center of his lips where the pillows housed a small tint, red and warm. 

"What are you?" 

When he took a cautious step towards her, (Y/N) all but stumbled back, itching to keep the current chasm of space between them. Harry stopped where he stood then, dropping his gaze from hers. 

(Y/N)'s heartbeat sounded in her ears while she awaited his response. 

"It is... hard to explain," he answered, "Can I show you something that might help? My library—I can show you there—" 

Drowning out the rest of his words over a rush of blood pumping through her body, (Y/N) stared at him. Her insides twisted as he took in more and more of him. Her father had always said that with her head so far up in the clouds, the fall was going to shatter her when it happened. It appeared that fall was happening now. 

Was he really a demon like the church women said? Was he the predator that committed those heinous acts scattered about the woods? Warnings had been everywhere: the way she was drawn to him like a moth to a singing flame, the way he reeled her in wish his unmatched beauty, and the way everyone around her seemed to know better. She had willingly walked into the lion's den, though there was no telling what kind of beast had truly laid claim to the territory. She was nothing but a stray bunny, a lamb separated from the flock, that had witless fallen into a trap. 

"(Y/N)," Harry said, his voice cutting through her whirling thoughts, "Please. Don't be afraid of me." She watched his throat bob as he swallowed, his features tight with shining eyes. "I promised you, remember? That I would never harm you. You said you believed me." 

Despite how disconnected she wanted to be, (Y/N) felt something in her chest crack as she listened to him. She was scared and confused, overwhelmed by the unknown that was standing in the room with her, but there was still the person she did know there as well. And that person looked heartbroken. 

"I just don't understand," she whimpered, fearing the volume of her own voice. 

A spark returned to him then, hearing her response. "I can explain," he said, stepping away from her towards a pitch black chaise lining the wall, "Give me a moment, and I will explain as much as I can." 

She was sure she was meant to take his lead, joining him on the velvet cushion, but her feet didn't allow more than a drag. She wanted to understand him, but she could understand him just fine without crawling in his lap. Instead, (Y/N) followed him far enough to watch as he took his seat from where she stood a meter away. 

"(Y/N)—" 

"Tell me," she started, her voice bursting through before she had given much permission, "Are you—... You're not human, are you?" 

Her words hung in the air between them, echoing through the too big, too silent ballroom. She didn't need to hear him to know what his answer was. 

"No. I'm not."

Harry had his eyes fixed on her, watching for every reaction she gave. (Y/N) wished she could have been stoic like the elder women of the village, or less reactionary like her sister, instead she was an open book doling out every reaction on a silver platter for him to consume. While she had been expecting as such, her head would never—could never—comprehend the answer he gave. 

"I am what is called a vampyr," he cautiously continued after a moment.

With her mouth agape, she watched him, waiting for more of an explanation than some unknown word. 

"What does that even mean?" she peeped when he said nothing more. 

This time, Harry avoided her eyes as he searched for the right words. He leant forward in his seat, placing his elbows on his knees as he dropped his gaze to center on the glossy floor. Only if he peeked through his lashes could he see her. 

"It means," he started, a heavy breath pushing his lungs to expand, "That, I am dead. But, I am able to be among the living." 

The edges of (Y/N)'s vision began to swirl as she tried to comprehend what he was so simply serving to her. 

Dead. 

Harry is dead. But, here he was, living and breathing, blinking with his heart steady in his chest, right in front of her. 

She breathlessly tried to ask for more information, though barely any thought came from her mouth. "Wh-W—Dead?"

Flicking his head up, Harry hesitantly matched her eyes. "My heart no longer beats, but, still, here I am," he offered, tone gentle and forgiving, "I don't know how it's possible, but I've been existing this way for a long time. I don't understand it either, (Y/N)." 

Her lungs felt stunted as she couldn't help her own eyes from dropping to his chest, where any normal human's heart would be pumping blood through full veins. She thought, if she waited long enough ,started hard enough, that she could prove him wrong somehow. What if Harry had it all wrong, that he had been convinced by someone—something—that he wasn't like anyone else? Here she could prove to him (and herself) that his heart was beating and he was alive and everything she had slowly been putting together was nothing more than the effects of too much wine and an overactive imagination. 

Alas, there was no bold evidence that his heart was hammering against his chest as hers was. Instead, he was silently still, skin pale and chilled. 

She fell to the ground then, her dress fanning around her form with her hands limp in her lap. Looking at Harry with pleading eyes, she wanted nothing more than for this to be a cruel joke. 

"Bu—Harry?" 

Rolling his lips between his teeth, Harry closed his eyes, unable to continue watching as she crumbled under the weight of the truth. 

"I-I'm sorry, I don't have any answers on why or how," he started, feeling as pained as she, "All I know is that I woke up this way after a night I can't remember, and have been attempting to figure it out since." 

She canted her head, observing him as he sat with his eyes shuttered. "But you... You don't look dead?" 

This seemed to be the wrong question to ask as he dropped his head, leaving (Y/N) from gleaning anything from his expression. "There are things I need to be able to maintain myself or I would wither away like any other person, but..." 

"It's complicated?" (Y/N) finished for him, feeling the lame weight of the explanation on her tongue. 

Harry nodded his head, keeping his gaze down. "It's complicated." 

(Y/N) base level instincts wanted her to run, bolt from the castle and make her way back home in a puddle of tears and seek out the shelter of her father. Harry's half-explanations and full deceptions should be enough of a warning sign to compliment the red flags others around her had seen and pushed her to acknowledge. 

Despite it all, as she sat, watching him wrestle with his speaking his own words as much as she was hearing them, she made no move to leave. Maybe she hadn't completely crashed down just yet, because she swore the longer she sat here, streaks of intrigue and curiosity sparked through her head.

Besides, through the muck and the revelations slowly sweeping over her, a near silent thought in the back of her head reminded her that he promised he'd never hurt her. If he had truly wanted to harm her, he would have done it by now, right?

"What do you mean that it's complicated?" she asked before she had even given permission for her thoughts to float around the room. 

"I have had to do things—things I am not proud of—to be able to stay alive—or whatever I am. But, I am trying to move past them and grow into something more," he told her, his words turning into a plea as he finally matched her gaze, "I promise I am different now." 

That base instinct inside of her triggered a gut feeling (Y/N) couldn't ignore. Flashes of the woman she found in the woods blinked through her memory, her nightmares intermingling with the grotesque sight. 

"The people in the woods," she murmured, unsure of what she wanted out of bringing this up. She wasn't asking, but she hoped Harry had an answer for her, though she feared what that might be. 

Harry looked to her with a clear gaze, his shoulders sloping in defeat. He looked pained as he fought to pick out the right words for her. "That is not me," he told her, though he looked far from finished, "But, it's who I used to be. I have not done... that in a very long time, but Mitchell—m-my footman—he-he's trying to learn. He doesn't know how to contain himself yet, but he will." 

Vividly, (Y/N) could recall the sight of the bloodless corpse, all color leached from the woman's features. The frayed column of her throat, ripped out of the way in favor of the flesh and muscle underneath. The woman had been deliberately stowed away, carefully placed after being mauled and used until she had nothing left to give. The memory warped until Harry was standing over the woman's body, blood cascading down his mouth and soiling his clothing

A shudder wracked down her spine.

She remembered thinking just how impossible it would be for a human to do what she had seen. 

"You've done that to others before?" she whispered, fearing how badly her voice would crack if she attempted anything louder. 

Hanging his head in shame, Harry nodded his head. "It's been almost a hundred years, but yes." 

A hundred years. 

Harry on the outside was a young man, not the kind of person that spoke of decades of his life out in the world. He showed no age, and yet, he didn't hesitate before offering a number. 

She had thought it was wild just how much he seemed to have travelled while being so young. 

(Y/N)'s world turned on its head then. She must have really downed the wine during dinner. Maybe even the scent of the wisteria and the foxglove had worked its way into her brain and was taking more and more of her sanity. 

She had to leave. 

Stumbling to her feet, (Y/N) swallowed around her dry through, her breathing coming in concerning puffs with her corset tight around her torso. 

"I need to go," she told him breathlessly, "I-I—I'm sorry, I need to leave." 

Without waiting for a response, she turned on her heel and started out of the ballroom. She needed space, this castle was too small, the walls too tight, the corset digging in too deep. She had made it just to the double doors before she was aware of Harry's presence behind her, his steps silent over the floor. 

"(Y/N), wait," he pleaded, "I can explain everything, I-I promise. I've never had to explain to anyone who didn't already understand, but I'll learn, please give me a chance." 

Her pacing never wavered as she burst out of the ballroom, hustling through the winding halls and gloomy decor until she found herself heading towards the front door. The pounding of her feet over the glossy flooring matched that of the beating in her chest, her ribs sore and lungs aching. 

Just as she placed her hand on the door, aiming to push it open and allow herself to spill into the night, a cold hand on her shoulder stopped her. 

"(Y/N), wai—" 

Twirling around, (Y/N) startled with a gasp ripping through her throat. On instinct, the vision of the corpse in the woods in the back of her mind, she cupped her hand over her neck as if that could stop him from ripping it out. 

Harry's hand dropped from her shoulder immediately, his gaze dropping to where she had protectively clutched her throat. Her chest rose and fell in rapid succession, a whimper involuntarily dropping from her lips. 

He crumbled at the sight, despair washing over his features. (Y/N) didn't know what to do as he fell to his knees, looking up at her with glittering eyes, more and more shatters of green appearing. His fingers clutched at his waistcoat, skin turning bone white from the strength. 

"(Y/N)," he almost cried, "I—You have to believe me. I would never hurt you, you know that. Please, please don't be scared of me." Glittering tears pooled in his eyes. "I am more devoted to you than I think I even realized, I would sooner sacrifice myself than let anything hurt you. Please, just... I don't want to frighten you, I'm sorry." 

She was rooted in her spot as she heard his pleas over the rushing of blood in her ears. Under her palm, she could feel her pulse thrumming in her neck. 

What kind of predator was he, to crumble and bow before his prey? No vulnerability could be shown during the hunt, even from the most skilled of hunters. And yet, if Harry were the lion here, the one stalking and waiting for the moment to strike, he was doing a poor job of keeping the upper hand. With the way they were positioned—(Y/N) with her back to the door, knob under her other hand, and Harry at his knees before her,—she could easily escape before he had a chance to do anything more than to grasp at her gown before the material inevitably slipped from his hands. 

He'd had plenty of better—easier—opportunities to hurt her. Tonight alone, when he dipped her low, neck on display, as they danced in the ballroom, he could have easily made her into one of the many found in the woods. Instead, he had held her carefully, skimming his nose over the skin in an affectionate touch before pulling her to his chest. Countless times prior—the night in the storm, when she had slept so soundly in that bedroom, the night walking alone through town—he could have stolen her away without a single soul to witness. 

Instead, he had cared for her. He put her somewhere safe to wait out the storm and sleep off her panic. He had ensured she hadn't walked home alone in the dark with a rowdy tavern bubbling with drunk patrons. He had treated her like royalty all night, never once looking down on her should she not know the proper etiquette. Even now, he was pleading with her to please understand him, that he had never wanted to simply scare her. 

For a moment, she wished she could have seen what this looked like to a spectator. She wanted to know if all of her emotions were seen as plainly on her face as she felt them in her chest. The comedown was gradual and mind-clearing, but Harry stayed right where he was, patiently awaiting any kind of response she could give him.

(Y/N) had the upper hand here. 

Lowering her hand from her throat, her shoulders dropped into a declining slope. Unpinching her features while her lungs evened out. 

"I am overwhelmed, I think," she told him, swallowing down the thick lump in the throat, "And, confused. But I believe you." 

Relief came over him at once, his posture slumping as he collected himself. A beat passed before he rose to his feet, exhaustion touching at his unblemished features. 

"Thank you," he breathed, looking at her with a clear gaze and unguarded expression, "I understand. I was confused once too—it's not easy to comprehend." Wetting his lips, he tipped his chin with the downturned eyes of a scolded pup. "Perhaps, I can ready the carriage for you to make it home, and rest for the remainder of the night. And, if you are still open to seeing me again, I will give you whatever answers I have to anything you want to know." 

Too many trains of thought were passing through her head at the moment, keeping (Y/N) from giving him a clear answer. While she was sure right now that she wanted to know everything about what he was and who he was, explore the half-truths she had learned, there was no telling what kind of clarity the morning would bring. 

"Okay," she answered quietly, not wanting to give anything more away until she knew more. She made a move to step around him to which Harry caught on and allowed a wider berth for her to pass. "Let me change, and then I will be ready to leave." 

"You don't have to do that," Harry stopped her, his sullen expression returning with delicate heartbreak, "The gown is yours. You can keep it." 

When she offered him a small smile, she could see the pieces of him mending back together. "I think this may be a bit hard to travel in and hide from my father, that's all," she told him, shooting her palms over the skirt, "I will have to come by to collect it another time." 

It was like watching the sunrise the way a smile bloomed over Harry's features, dazzling and hopeful.

"Another time, then."

—————

From the carriage ride, to trekking back to her room, and finally settling in bed after doing her nightly ritual, (Y/N) had been left alone with her thoughts. 

No one had caught her, that much she knew from the fact her father was still snoring in the other room and the tavern was still bustling with no attention paid in her direction. At least, she didn't have to worry about that. That way, her head could be filled with endless questions. 

No matter how scared she had been in the moment at the castle, (Y/N) knew that she was never in any real danger. She didn't understand Harry and who he was revealing himself to be, and she doubted she ever truly would, but she knew in her heart that he was never going to harm her. The kind of man that would rather sit and speak, drop to his knees with words of devotion, couldn't be that much of a monster, could he? 

Confusion muddled her thoughts. Every time she reassured herself, she heard glimpses of the word Dead wrapped in his voice, detailing out just how his heart was still in his chest. She saw the memory of the dead woman in the woods, and the countless others she had been spared of seeing with her own eyes. While he may not be the culprit of these bodies, he had been once. 

It was an odd thing, the curiosity she felt. 

She wanted to know him. She wanted to be close to the man that she had met and practically courted with these last weeks. She wanted that man and had allowed her heart to stake a claim on him. But, she was confused with the part of him he shared tonight.

Staring at her ceiling, (Y/N) attempted to reconcile everything she knew. 

Those two facets of him could both be true, she thought. He could be the kind of creature that had done things she didn't want to fathom, while also being the kind of man that she had sought out and had embraced her in those small ways. Tonight, she had feared a threat that had been brought about by the unknown and the lack of understanding she had around him, but never once was the real Harry the thing that had frightened her. 

She could be comforted and confused by him at the same time, too. 

A rustle from the herb garden had (Y/N) tentatively peering out her window. 

Amongst the leaves and bundles was the moon-eyed cat. The same one that she had last seen in Harry's arms. 

She was going to speak to him again, she decided. There was more she had to know about him and her heart wasn't ready to shy away from him yet. 

—————

when the flower of hemlock is consumed, it can poison the lungs and cause death through suffocation.

ahhhhhh! the ballroom scene was the first thing that came to mind and inspired me to write this whole piece so that was a lot of fun to come together and I really hope you guys like it! thank u sm for reading, sorry for any mistakes, and if you have any ideas or whatever you want to share please sent them in!

#writing #harry #harry styles #harry one shot #harry imagine #harry blurb #harry au #vampire harry #harry x reader #harry styles one shot #harry styles imagine #harry styles blurb #harry styles writing #vampire harry styles #harry styles x reader #harryween #love on tour #pleasing #harrys house #as it was

[beybaldes]

And somehow I know that you and I would've found each other

roy kent x gn!reader

word count : 8.7k

masterlist

summary : you and roy always end up finding your way back to each-other

content warning : taylor popped the fuck off with the speak now vault tracks especially timeless (another timeless fic coming out soon!!!!), slow burn that takes place over 36 years - dermatologists hate me! Roy’s sister is dubbed Molly yet again, I steal britanny brett for plot because I’m obsessed with @onceuponaoneshotfanfic and superstar (check it out now if you still haven’t, and if you have already, then reread it!!!!!!)

It's 1991 and youre not old enough to understand why your neighbour, and best friends older brother Roy, has to move away. You're only 4 years old, and so is Molly, and Roy's only 9 - so you're not sure why he's going away, where he's going, or if he's ever going to come back.

All you do know is that you and Molly's little arms are wrapped tightly around each other and you feel like it's never going to be enough to fill the hole of Roy's absence.

It's a cool September morning and Roy knows that December 19th - the day he gets to come back home for Christmas - is exactly 107 days away, but not even the last dregs of summers warmth can make this moment something he's going to look back fondly on.

He's got blankie folded perfectly at the bottom of his backpack and your favourite teddy bear wrapped up in it. Even though he wouldn't discover it until he'd arrived at Sunderland, you knew it was there and that Roy would look after it, and it made everything feel just a little bit better.

When Roy's Grandad announces that it's time to go, he gives you and Molly one last hug, pressing a kiss to both of your heads and promising to write and call whenever he can. You and Molly chase the car until the end of the street, where it turns a corner and Molly's mum calls you back to the house; you linger long enough to watch Roy turn from one of your best friends into a blurry figure in the back of a car.

Ms Kent gives you and Molly ice lolly's from the freezer and puts on 'Cinderella' while you eat them. She then sits through 'Sleeping Beauty,’ ‘The Little Mermaid', and 'Beauty and the Beast' with the two of you until your tears have long since stopped and you've fallen asleep in each others arms.

The following morning, Ms Kent nearly has a heart attack when she doesn't find you in Molly's bed, but her worry is soon ended when she realises the door to Roy's room is half opened and you're quietly curled up in tear stained sheets. Slowly, she wakes you up, and when fresh tears spring to your eyes she's quick to pull you into her arms. As she rocks you gently in her hold, she promises you that the prince always returns to the princess; even if it takes breaking a curse or waiting for 100 years.

They always find each-other in the end and live happily ever after.

And 107 days is nothing when you're 4 years old, it's the blink of an eye and sticky melted ice lolly on your hands, it's your first ever school uniform and glitter from Christmas crafts that you cant get off you no matter how many showers you take, and it goes by even quicker when Roy comes home 10 days sooner then expected.

You don't see him for the first 5 days. Roy locked himself away in his room and refused to come out or speak to anyone. But when the sixth day, and the weekend, finally rolls around, you decide to do something about it.

For a 9 year old, Roy sure had a lot to think about. He never got to say goodbye to his grandad, and he wasn't going to teach him how to ride a bike, or see him score his first professional goal, or get married, and he didn't know how to explain that when he went back to Sunderland come new year, he wasn't going away in the same capacity granddad had.

No 9 year old should've been thinking of all that.

Roy hadn't been expecting any visitors, not that he wanted any, but when you barged your way into his bedroom, he couldn't bring himself to send you away.

"Go away." Roy had growled, hidden beneath blankie and curled tightly into himself. "I want to be alone." Roy hadn't meant a lick of it and you hadn't believed any of it either.

"No, you don't." Though you had to wriggle your little self into his arms, you did it, and beamed proudly against his pyjama clad chest when he let you cuddle up to him. Roy had hugged you tightly, pulling you closer to him and wrapping blankie tightly around you both. "I missed you, Royo."

"You packed Dave in my bag." Roy stated, not asking why, or whether you wanted the teddy bear back, or telling you that he'd actually left it in Sunderland for when he went back in a few weeks time.

"You need him more then I do." Roy just nodded his head at your words, willing himself not to cry at the guilt he felt over leaving you and Molly behind and thinking about something other then his grandad. "And, if you have Dave, and Dave is mine, then you have to come and give him back to me. You have to come back from sundayland."

"Sunderland."

"What's that?" You tilted your head up to look at Roy, and found him already looking at you, half a smile on his lips.

"It's nothing."

Both you and Roy fell asleep in his room, under the safety of blankie, talking about 'sundayland' and everything good about his time there. It wasn't until tea time that his mum found the two of you and dragged you down stairs for dinner, teasing Roy once you'd gone home that you definitely had a little crush on him.

~*~

Roy's transfer to Chelsea once the season is over is announced just before your 16th birthday and you swear it's the best birthday present you've ever gotten. He's newly 21 and he's got this shaggy mullet thing going on that really shouldn't be working for him, but it is. You can't keep your eyes off of him, and Roy pretends not to notice for what he tells himself is your sake. He knows it isn't.

When his car pulls up in the drive for the first time since the weekend he came down for Mollys birthday, you and Molly run out of the house hand in hand to greet him, crying his name. He lets the two of you crash into him and wrap your arms tightly around him, almost squeezing him to death when he finds himself sandwiched between the two of you.

Roy's barely been on home soil for 10 seconds when Molly pulls away from the hug to look up at her big brother with the best puppy dog eyes she can muster up at 16. "Will you buy us drinks to take to leavers?”

"Fuck off, buy your own." You don't unwrap your arms from around Roy while they bicker, quite enjoying the familiarity of the scene before you. It was almost too long ago to fathom the last time Roy had been home long enough to start a fight with Molly, and though you never thought you'd say it, it was really nice to see.

"Incase you lost some brain cells this season, you have to be 18 to buy alcohol, fuckhead." Roy just stared blankly at Molly, and ran his fingers up and down the length of your arm as you stayed curled in his side, thinking about how similar Roy and Molly really are when it comes down to it. "So, I need you to buy it for us."

"Ask mum to buy it for you."

Molly immediately scoffs, throwing her hands in the air and muttering under her breath that she was genuinely concerned that Roy had lost some brain cells from all the headers he'd done this season. "Don't you think I tried that, dumbass? Mum said no to both of us."

Roy's gaze turned to meet yours, surprised to find you already looking at him. "Please Royo, everyone else will be drinking at leavers." Roy could never say no to you, and he was convinced both you and Molly knew that and had concocted this scheme to get him to buy it for you. He didn't mind saying yes, at least not this time, at least not when it was you asking.

Molly ran back into the house with an excited cry, promising to return with all the money she'd owe Roy for the drinks plus some as a charitable donation for his kindness.

For the first time in almost a year, you and Roy where completely alone together. He spared a moment to look at you, really look at you; notice how your hair had gotten longer and that your sense of style had completely changed, that the early summer sun was already tanning your skin and that you still had your arms around him. Roy only tightened his grip on you, dragging you into and around the house with him until you made it to the living room.

His mum had repainted since he'd last been down to visit from Sunderland and there were new photos on the wall behind the settee; mainly of you and Molly on your last day of school and one of Roy at his last match playing for Sunderland.

"You look like a proper footballer now, Royo." Despite every other seat in the living room being free, you took purchase on the arm of the chair right beside Roy and pray no one thinks it's a sign of the bubbling feelings you have for him. You may only be 16 but you're sure you've been in love with Roy for the better part of your life. It's one thing for everyone to tease you about you and Roy having little crushes on each other as kids, it's a whole other thing for people to tease you for having a crush on him when you actually did.

Roy scoffed, taking a long swig from the beer he'd grabbed from the kitchen when he first got to the house, swallowing down his smile. "But not enough for you to stop calling me 'Royo,' apparently."

"You could be the most famous footballer on the planet and I'd still call you Royo." You reached up for his hair and ruffled it, laughing at the way he pulled away from your touch and went to flatten his hair back out almost immediately. "But I mean it, you look like the kind of footballer kids have posters of up on their walls, that they want to be when they grow up."

And you're entirely right. Somewhere up in Manchester, a 6 year old Jamie Tartt is pinning a poster of your Roy up on his wall and promising himself, and his dad, that all of his time and money spent on football practice will one day pay off  - that he's going to be one of the greats, just like Roy Kent.

"You'll always be my Royo, Roy. Even when you're super famous and don't remember me anymore." Your hand had somehow found it's way back into Roy's hair and he couldn't bring himself to move away from your touch. Since his sudden rise to fame, in which it seemed like he'd become an overnight sensation, he couldn't remember when he was last touched so gently. Touching only to touch, not because they wanted something from him or his name.

Roy couldn't keep in the smile that pulled at his lips. It faltered slightly at the fact he couldn't remember the last time he'd smiled, let alone genuinely, but it quickly returned and warmed his face when he meet your eyes. "And how could I ever forget the likes of you, yeah?"

Somewhere between shared words and glances, his hand had found yours and the two of you couldn't tear your eyes away from the other. "Dinners ready, guys." Molly was well known for her perfect timing, and despite some initial upset at the moment being taken from you, you knew it was for the better. Roy was Molly's brother, your best friends brother, who had 5 years on you yet.  Though you knew it was unlikely anything would ever happen between the two of you, moments like this made you think there was a small possibility something one day would. The thought wasn't one worth seriously entertaining. "Did I... interrupt something?"

"What? No way." You and Molly ran from the room hand in hand, giggles bubbling past your lips and exchanged, in hushed whispers, the conversation that Molly had just walked in on.

It was like Roy had never left as he followed the two of you into the dining room. He took his seat across the table from you like he always did and knocked his foot against yours every time he wanted your attention. Dinner was good and before he knew it you were half on top of him on the sofa, sneaking bites from his plate of dessert as everyone else partook in the worlds most heated game of Pictionary.

He gave a sharp nudge to your ribs when you stole the last bite but quickly soothed it over with the gentle drumming of his fingers against your skin. The pair of you talked in hushed tones for the rest of the evening about his transfer to Chelsea and everything he was looking forward to now that he was back in London, as well as all your plans for your super long summer before you started college in September.

It was only when Roy's mum turned to ask if you were going home or staying over that anyone had noticed the two of you cuddled up in the armchair in the corner of the room, both fast asleep. She didn't dare wake you, thankful to see her son at peace for the first time in what felt like years, instead placing a blanket over the two of you and ushering Molly up to bed despite her insistence that you come with her.

One day, she thought, the two of you would finally see yourselves in other people, realise that if love looks like that then the two of you must be in it, and with any luck she'd still be alive to see it. She knew Roy was stubborn enough to keep that from happening. Maybe he would't be this time; at least, not when it came to you.

~*~

When the rumours of Roy's relationship with Britanny Brett are confirmed by a quote she gives in an interview, he finds himself typing out an apology to you. He stares at his phone for 3 hours and the most he can type out is 'I didn't want you to find out like this, I'm sorry,' but he still doesn't send it. Roy's not entirely sure what he's apologising for.

It's the night before his 27th birthday and he's debating whether or not he should show up to the birthday dinner his mum has planned for him tomorrow. You'll be there. He knows it. But only because he knows that Molly dragged you back from uni with her just for the occasion. And for some reason that he can't quite place, or just doesn't want to yet, he feels bad about having to see your face and hear you talk about his girlfriend.

Although Brittany Brett is smoking hot, and they have really great sex, he's not sure he wants to take her home to meet his family. To meet you. Sure, she's a great footballers girlfriend, but he's a little worried about what the people who know him as just Roy will think of her.

When she appears on the other side of his door the morning of his 27th birthday, the first thing he says to her is 'you can't come to my birthday party' and he feels like he's 8 years old again and making mortal enemies in the playground at school. She doesn't acknowledge his comment, instead inviting herself in and making herself at home in Roy's living room, and he's never been more thankful for her 'too good for everyone' demeanour.

He drops her off at her house on the way over to his mums house later that evening. Roy decides he hates the way her perfume lingers in his car and has buried itself under his skin. He wants nothing more then for it to get away from him but there's still 20 minutes left of the drive and he knows the second you hear the car pull up you'll come running out the door and he won't have anytime to get the smell off of him.

When he pulls up on the doorstep of his childhood home 20 minutes later, only Molly comes running from the house to greet him. For a minute he thinks you haven't shown up to celebrate his birthday with him and he feels his heart break in two. He tells himself he doesn't know why. However, when he walks into the house and heads straight to the kitchen in search of a beer to calm his nerves, and help him forget about you, he finds you there, helping his mum with making his favourite dinner and a wide smile on your face.

You notice him lingering, shocked, in the doorway and pull him into your arms. There's less strength to your hold then he's used to but he feels grateful that you even want him in your arms after everything he's done. Now Roy really isn't sure why he's talking like that; like you've been hard done by from his relationship with Brittany Brett. To a degree he feels like he's cheated on you, but he can't have done because the two of you were never together. However, he doesn't let the thought linger, instead pulling you tighter against him and pressing a kiss to the crown of your head. Of course you'd be here, of course you would, but he finds himself holding onto you for a little longer then he probably should just to make sure you're really here and really staying.

Dinner is nice. It's a piece of simplicity he's missed every night since he was 9 years old and heading away to Sunderland for the first time. It's not often nowadays that he gets to eat dinner at a dining table surrounded by people he loves and who love him, so he relishes in every moment of it. He lets his hand brush against yours when he asks for the salt and he nudges your foot with his every-time he wants your attention. Being in this room, in this seat, with you, is like being 8 years old again and everything bad is yet to happen to him. Roy realises he likes the feeling of it more then he ever remembers.

No one brings up Brittany Brett, the way Roy smelt like her when you hugged him, the apology he never sent, or the way you cried in Molly and Ms Kent's arms when you found out he had a girlfriend. Dinner is peaceful and you and Roy share a slice of birthday cake on his Grandad's armchair, then fall asleep together there like he doesn't have a girlfriend and you don't have a broken heart.

His mum feels like she's got two children in her house and she wishes it would stay like this forever, as long as that meant Roy couldn't hurt your heart more then he already had. But Roy is stubborn, and she knows that. When she comes downstairs in the morning it's just you on the armchair with Roy's jacket over your shoulders like a blanket. You're hugging the material tightly against you as if it could ever replace Roy's presence, and even though you're still asleep, both of you know it won't.

When Roy sneaks out at 4am, the first thing he does is drive to Brittany Brett's house and breaks up with her. After all, there's no point being with someone when you know for a fact that you're in love with someone else.

~*~

Molly's dating this guy who doesn't let her speak to you, or Roy, or her own mum and you're scared for her life. In the two times you've managed to get a hold of her, you begged and pleaded with her to leave him. She's only 25 and so are you, you could run away together and start it all over and no one would know any different. Both times she said she wanted to be with him, that she loved him. All you want is your best friend back and for her to be safe, and rather selfishly, because you need her more then you've ever needed anyone.

Despite trying all day, you can't reach her, or her boyfriend, and you don't know who else to call. Ms Kent was the only real parental figure you'd had growing up, but it was pushing midnight and you didn't want to wake her up for the sake of your own comfort. Roy's number is below hers on your favourite contacts and you don't hesitate to ring it. You know he's got a match this weekend and practice tomorrow but you need someone and you have no one else to keep you from your own mind.

Roy's in some club in north London when his phone rings and his screen illuminates with your name and a picture of the two of you from last Christmas. It's one of the newcomers 21st birthday and he remembers being 21 and moving to Chelsea, moving back home, like it was yesterday. He's got 10 years on the kid who's just starting his career while he's going on aging out of it. It's almost enough to make him feel old.

He's quick to answer the phone, practically running out of the club to make sure he can hear you and he's already walking back to his car when he hears the suppressed sniffle to your voice. Roy can't see 100% past 9pm anymore so he doesn't drink when he goes out with the team, he knows it'll only make it worse, and for the first time ever, it's actually come in use.

It takes him 37 minutes exactly to drive from the club to your childhood home that's pressed brick by brick against his, and that's only because he made a pit stop to his own house on the way over. Every time he comes back here lately, it feels like some cruel trick of fate, that he can't have you but can have his entire life shaped by you.

He's banging his fist loudly against the door before he can take into consideration that your neighbours, one of which is his own mother, are likely asleep and wouldn't take too kindly to being woken up at this hour. When you open the door to a friendly face, you all but collapse into Roy's arms, already sobbing and heaving and trying to get the words out but not being able to do so. He scoops you up into his arms, years of intense football training allowing him to do it without second though, and carries you to your bedroom.

He placed you against the pillows and then kicks off his shoes, he definitely scuffed them up in the process but Roy couldn't seem to find the time to mind. Before you've managed to get a single word out Roy's stripped off the bulk of his suit, leaving him in just a shirt, boxers and socks. The image is kind of funny and if you weren't so devastated, you were sure you'd be laughing.

"What's wrong?" When Roy's hands gently wrap around your wrists to try and pull them away from your face and get a glance at you, you just start crying harder. "C'mon sweetheart, talk to me."

When he's met with more silence he pulls out his surprise weapon, a raggedy, old teddy bear, with matted fur that smells surprisingly like Roy. "Would it be easier to talk to Dave?" Finally your hands move away from your face to get a look at the teddy bear, not believing it's right in front of you when you know you haven't seen it since you were five yours old. It took a couple of minutes, lots of sniffling, and really willing yourself to say it, but eventually you did. Roy's arms around your and the soft touch of Dave's fur against your skin settling your nerves.

"My dad died this morning." Roy didn't hesitate to pull you into his lap, settling himself against your pillows as he brought you closer to him. "And I have no one to tell. Molly's boyfriend won't let her speak to me anymore, and I didn't want to burden your mum with it, and I just... I didn't know who to call or talk to and I know you were probably busy-"

"Hey, hey, don't. You did the right thing calling me. I wouldn't want to be anywhere else, yeah?" Both of Roy's hands are cradling your face, forcing you to look at him and really listen to what he wants to say. "I'm here, okay? I'm here. And I'm not going anywhere."

You shuffle in his lap, turning enough that you can bury your head in the crook of his neck and wrap your arms around his shoulders. Roy's warm and surprisingly comfy, but you reckon that's more so because the skin of his thighs are pressing into the skin of yours and you're sure it's the closest you've ever been to him. You try not to think about how you wouldn't mind being this close to him more often.

The rest of the night is spent with you in Roy's arms, his hand running up and down your back, his other hand cradling your face and wiping away each tear that spills over. He lets you ramble and ramble about everything on your mind with no regard for the fact he's got practice at 8am tomorrow. Even when you fall asleep in his arms, tears staining his brand new shirt, practice is the furthest thing from his mind, so much so that he doesn't even remember sending  Di Matteo the text saying he wasn't well and wouldn't be able to make practice in the morning.

Roy wakes up a long time before you, and he finds he has to practically drag himself away from you and the bed. When his eyes blink open he sees the sight he's spent the better part of his life waiting to see: you're in his arms, fast asleep, looking entirely peaceful and for a minute he can pretend that this is his life. While the haze of sleep has yet to fade, he can act like he wakes up to you every morning, that you love him like he loves you, and that, if he wanted to, he could press kisses all over your face until you woke up and flashed him that bright beautiful smile of yours.

If he wanted to, he could press kisses all over your face until you woke up and you would greet him with a soft smile, pressing a kiss to his face in return and not caring if it landed against his lips, cheek, or jaw, because you know you'll be able to kiss the other places whenever you like.

Roy pulls himself out of bed and drags his feet all the way to your kitchen where he cooks the two of you breakfast. Nothing about it is rushed - he knows that he has nowhere to be but here, with you. He knows you've woken up when he can hear the gentle padding of your feet against your bedroom floor. Roy hears you walk down the hall, down the stairs, and into the kitchen, where you then cross the room to him, and wrap your arms around his waist. Dave is clutched in on of your hands and your head is pressed against the dimples of his shoulder blades, your other hand fiddling with the hem of the front of his T-shirt, so casually that any passer by would think this was routine. And even though it isn't, Roy takes the risk of placing his hand atop your own and lacing his fingers through yours. When he can feel you smile into his back, he thinks maybe he should've kissed you in the bedroom, that maybe you'd have liked it just as much as he would've.

~*~

It's another year after your dad died before Molly finds out. She doesn't show up to Christmas, or Easter, but she comes by one late spring afternoon when Ms Kent had invited you and Roy over for picky bits in the garden, with a bin bag full of her belongings and a black eye. If your hand wasn't holding Roy's so tightly you were sure he would've been right out of the door, driving off to find the prick and give him an even worse beating then he'd given his sister.

You pull Roy with you when you cross the garden to engulf Molly in a hug, both of you breaking down at the contact and apologies tumbling from both of your lips. Molly apologises for not being there when your dad died, and not attending the funeral, you force her to take back her apology while also shoving your own down her throat, apologising for not finding her, for not being there. The two of you only cry harder when Roy pulls the two of you, still hugging, into his embrace. It's warm and his hands are big and it makes you feel like you're a child again, and you suppose that in some ways you still are.

It takes almost half an hour for the two of you to calm down enough for any coherent words to get out, and the first ones that do is that Molly's pregnant and she needs somewhere to stay. Immediately you ask her to move in with you. It's perfect really, you're next door to her mum and you've got a room for her and for the baby (when it comes) now that your dads passed. Roy likes the idea even more; something about his three, soon to be four, favourite people being in one place taking his fancy.

The eight months between Molly showing back up and beautiful baby Phoebe being born seemed to pass in the blink of an eye. The soft, warm, yellow paint of phoebes nursery smears your memories of those months; everything about it is caked in the glow of the summer you have when you're 5 years old and have no care in the world.

You and Molly are best friends again and it's like you never missed two years of each others lives; everything just falls right back into place. The two of you do everything together and you wouldn't have it any other way, even when everything includes being in the room with her and Ms Kent when she's giving birth.

Roy, unluckily, is the only one not invited into the room, and he spends almost 6 hours pacing back and forth and back and forth and back and forth in the waiting room, waiting for some kind of an update on his sister and his niece. It's you that comes to give it to him. You're in blue scrubs that you pull off further with every step you take into the waiting room, running right into Roy's arms with the widest smile he's ever seen cross your face.

"She's beautiful, Roy. She's so beautiful." He just nods his head and allows you to take his hand and pull him in the direction of the room Molly and his mum are in. "I love her so much already and she's only been here for 5 minutes."

Roy understood what you meant as soon as he walked into the room. Molly was absolutely glowing, and cradling this tiny, tiny baby in her arms like she was terrified any movement at all might hurt her - she didn't even look like she was breathing less it hurt the baby.

"Do you want to hold her?" You whispered, nudging his foot with yours to gain his attention. "You won't break her, promise." You didn't give Roy the opportunity to answer, instead eagerly taking the baby off of Molly and walking over to Roy. His mum all but pushed him into one of the chairs they had in the room and lectured him on how to hold the baby correctly. Slowly, you lowered her into his arms, making sure he had a comfortable and safe grip on her before you removed your arms from the little Phoebe completely. "Isn't she amazing?"

Roy can already picture it and it's breaking his heart. You, and him, and a little baby wrapped in a blanket with eyes that don't yet know how to open. But, in the daydream he doesn't tell anyone about, you're holding the baby and his arms are around you, whispering how much he loves you into your ear and promising to do everything for that baby. Your baby. He doesn't yet know if a day like that is ever going to come; he'd have to get over himself first, and he doesn't see that happening anytime soon. For you, however, he just might try.

"Yeah, yeah she is."

Molly and little baby Phoebe have to stay in the hospital overnight, but can be discharged in the morning, and Molly doesn't let any of you stay with her. In fact, she demands the three of you head home and come back tomorrow, well rested to drive her and newborn Phoebe home.

The three of you pick up some chinese takeout on your way home and eat it around Ms Kent's dinner table. Molly's absence is so heavily felt that part of you feels thrust back in time to a year ago, when you didn't have any contact with her and didn't know if she was even alive, let alone okay. It shakes you to your core and you leave your dinner half eaten as you excuse yourself to the bathroom just to breathe. When you return to the table, you find that dinner has been cleared away, but Ms Kent is holding out a spoon for you, pointing you in the direction of the living room.

Roy's sat in his grandads armchair with the biggest bowl of ice cream you've ever seen and he opens up his arms to you when he feels you staring at him from the doorway. You didn't hesitate to sit with him, squished up in the seat that fit the both of you slightly better when you were kids, with Roy's arm around your shoulders. When you didn't take a large helping of ice cream for yourself, he nudged the bowl in your direction.

"When Molly came home, I'd get in bed with her each night." You whispered, only loud enough that Roy would be able to hear you. It felt embarrassing, to try and explain why you felt Molly's absence for one night so vastly, but you knew that if anyone would get it, it would be Roy. "For the first month or so, she'd ask me to stay with her, so she knew she wasn't alone and she was safe. So I did. And then one night she was like 'I don't need you in bed with me anymore, I think I'm okay now,' and I didn't know what to do." You stuck your spoon inside the ice-cream, stirring it around the bowl but never bringing the build up of vanilla on the spoon to your lips. "I got in bed that night and I couldn't sleep at all, so I went and knocked on her door and she was still awake. Told me she couldn't sleep either, and I got right back into bed with her." Tears pricked at your eyes and your spoon fell against the bowl. "I don't know what to do without Molly, Royo, I don't want to have to do without her again."

Roy quickly moved the half eaten bowl of ice cream to the coffee table, pulling you into him and cradling your head against his shoulder. "Molly's not going anywhere, babe, she'll be home in the morning. Everything's going to be okay."

Neither of you brought up how he called you babe, and his mum didn't bring up how you fell asleep cuddled up in the armchair like you did when you were kids. But when Roy brought Phoebe and Molly home the following morning, and Molly and Ms Kent had taken Phoebe upstairs to get her settled into her new home, he pulled you in for a hug.

"Told you so." He whispered in your ear, pressing a featherlight kiss to your temple. Then Roy grabbed your hand, interlocking your fingers with his and pulling you up the stairs to join Phoebe in her new room. Dave was in his other hand and he continued to stand by you as you placed it in the crib with her, knowing that she needed Dave more then you or Roy did now.

All of you couldn't wait to watch this little girl grow up surrounded by people who loved her so, so much.

~*~

Roy gets transferred to Richmond just before Phoebe's 4th birthday and you tease him that he has a penchant for getting the best kinds of birthday present. He asks why you remember so clearly that his transfer to Chelsea 15 years ago was just before your 16th birthday, and you answer honestly that it was the only thing you'd wanted for your birthday that year - for Roy to be closer to home. You immediately get to tease him again as a blush coats his cheeks.

On his first day at Richmond, he gets you, Molly and Phoebe seats in the family box, says that they'll always be there if you ever want to come and watch him play, and you reply that you always watch him play.

"I've been playing professionally for half my life. Sunderland, Chelsea, and now Richmond. I've never seen you even glimpse at a football match."

You scoff immediately and Roy's slightly taken aback, you almost look angry at what he's saying and he doesn't know why because he's right. Not that it matters to him, but you just don't like football that much; he doesn't blame you or anything, each to their own, but he wishes you'd like it for him. "I've seen every game you've ever played."

"Yeah, right."

"Yeah, right." You turned to Roy, putting down the bag filled with Phoebe's first ever school uniform inside now that you'd made it back home. "I'm serious. I've watched every match you've ever played in. All of your games with Sunderland and Chelsea, and I'll watch all your games now that you're at Richmond." You turn to Roy with a tense crease in your brow and he's wishing he never brought it up. "You're important to me Roy, of course I'd watch every time you play."

"What's sundayland, babe?" Phoebe had ran into the living room when she'd heard the door go, excited that you and Roy returned home. Molly and you had called each other babe since you were teenagers, and Phoebe had taken to calling you babe over your actual name. It didn't help that Roy had let it slip a few time too, only reassuring her that she was calling you by the correct thing.

"It's nothing, pheeb's." You scooped the little blonde into your arms, resting her against your jutted out hip and beginning to wander through the house. "Where your mum? You need to try on your uniform."

"Can I give you a fashion show?" She asked, leaning her head against your shoulder in a way that had Roy thinking about the two of you with a kid again. He'd have to ask you out first, and with each year that passed, the possibility of him actually doing that seemed to get slimmer and slimmer.

"Of course you can, Pheeb's. Go get dressed. Me and your uncle Roy will wait in the living room."

You stuck to your word, watching every single match that Roy played in. Sometimes at Nelson road, sometimes with Molly and Phoebe, sometimes in Ms Kent's living room - but you always watched him play.

The first time Molly let you take Phoebe to Nelson road was as your birthday present the same year Phoebe turned 6. You'd been pleading all year for Molly to let you bring Phoebe along to a home game, and she finally caved - on the condition you kept her ear defenders on all night and left if it got too much for her. Phoebe loved every minute of the match, screamed her little heart out just for the sake of joining in, even if she didn't know what people were saying; You were certain her cry of 'uncle Roy' every time she saw him with the ball was the loudest in the stadium.

When the match was over, a man with glasses found you in the stands, introduced himself as 'Higgins,' handed you two family lanyards with Kent plastered all over them, and asked you to follow him. You're barely in the changing rooms when Phoebe lets go of your hand, crying Roy's name and interrupting a speak from that new, American coach that Roy had complained about.

"Phoebe!" The blonde didn't wait up for you, running right at Roy and knowing he'd catch her when she flung herself the remaining foot into his arms. "What did I tell you?"

"I didn't know grandad fancied himself a cradle robber." You'd heard enough complaints to know the dig at Roy was from Jamie Tartt, the season loan from Manchester City. "Surely, someone like you isn't married to someone like Roy."

The twinge of disgust that slipped from the mans mouth when he said Roy's name had your blood boiling. "Why? Would you rather me with the likes of you instead?"

Jamie stood in dumbfounded silence as you turned back to Roy, your face entirely brightening, and his presence being totally ignored for the rest of your stay in the lock room. He wasn't used to that. He was trying to compliment you, say you were way out of Roy's league - maybe even ask for your number - but you didn't even spare him a second glance. In fact, now that your eyes were back on him, he wasn't entirely sure you were ever going to look away from Roy again. It made sense when he thought about it in bed later that night, even though he teased the fuck out of Roy and sometimes plainly treated him like shit, Roy Kent was one of the greats. Even Jamie Tartt knew that, and had known it since he was 6 years old - of course he'd managed to score someone like you.

Murmurs of Roy Kent having a secret spouse and daughter had filled Nelson Road before you'd even left the building.

It wasn't that Roy didn't want to talk about you. If he had the opportunity, he'd scream about you from rooftops, but being a footballer was a very public affair and he loved his privacy. Almost as much as he loved you.

The dog track didn't think they'd ever see your face again, not when Roy had growled at them after he'd guided you and Phoebe out of the changing room. Unfortunately for them, they would, under the worst possible circumstances.

You'd been on the edge of your seat the whole match. Roy's been benched for the first time in what you're sure is his entire career and doesn't come on until the 60th minute and when he does, you swear he's on fire. He's playing better then he'd ever played before, running faster then he's ever ran in the past few years, and he's slide tackling Jamie Tartt and getting the ball away from the goal. People are screaming his name and so are you.

And then he's not getting up.

And then he's still not getting up.

And then he's still not getting up, the cheers have died down, and everyone's waiting with baited breath while it's determined if they've just seen the end of Roy Kent's 30 year long career with their own eyes.

And then Roy gets up, and for a fleeting moment you think that maybe everything's okay, that Roy's okay, and he's going to carry on playing.

And then he's walking from the pitch, limping, and your sprinting from your seat in the family box and running up to the owners box. You don't have to say a word because Rebecca calls a member of security over to you, and asks with a kind smile for him to guide you down to the changing rooms.

You linger outside the door for about 5 seconds before you push it open. If you were anyone else, you'd were certain he would've yelled at you to get out, even though he didn't mean it, just for the sake of his image. But you weren't anyone else, you were you.

"I'm fine." You hadn't even made it fully into the room and Roy was already trying to make his pain seem less bad then it was. "I'm fine. Go watch the rest of the match. You might have to drive us back to yours though."

"Roy." He doesn't say anything as you cross the room and sit beside him on the bench. You slowly wrap your arm around his shoulders and tangle your fingers into his hair, pulling his head down to rest against your shoulder. "Don't. I wouldn't want to be anywhere else, yeah? You're important to me, let me be here for you."

Roy kisses you and you instantly realise you'd have waited 33 more years for it, if that meant it would happen.

His lips are chapped, and his beard is slightly scratchy, and he's already breathless before he even leans into it but you don't mind. You find that his lips slant against yours perfectly and he slides you closer against him on the bench, using the hand he'd placed on your hip to give it a squeeze, eliciting an gasp from you. He takes the opportunity to slide his tongue into your mouth but he pulls away before it can escalate.

You hope to anything listening that he wants to kiss you again, because you're sure he's ruined the touch of everyone else's lips against your skin for you.

"I've been in love with you since I was 5 years old." Roy pressed his lips back to yours in a quick succession of kisses and you're sure that thats a good sign.

"Since you were 5 years old?" He asks, nudging his nose against yours, pressing his lips firmly to yours when they brush slightly as he speaks. "Fuck, did we waste a lot of time."

~*~

Roy's been the manager of Richmond for the last 4 months and you're thankful that there's no football on over Christmas. You get Roy practically all to yourself for three weeks and it's the best feeling ever.

Phoebes still in school until the 22nd, and you live together at Roy's house, so there's no chance Molly will walk in on the two of you or his mum will hear you through the walls - meaning 90% of his first week off work is spent having sex on every surface in the house, in every position imaginable.

The second week off is the main bulk of Christmas. You pick Phoebe up from school on the 22nd and she has a sleep over at your house. The 23rd is spent curled up on your couch, with Phoebe sandwiched between the two of you, watching Christmas movies all day and stuffing your faces with popcorn and hot chocolate. Phoebe spends the night again, and then the three of you drive down to Ms Kent's house at lunchtime on the 24th. Molly comes home from work around 6pm and the 5 of spend the rest of the evening in the living room, watching 'love actually' and 'the polar express,' until it's time for bed. Even though you and Roy have been together for nearly 3 years now, you sleep in Molly's bed with her and Phoebe, reminiscing on the christmas's of your childhood and giggling over them until you fall asleep.

When christmas morning finally comes, you and Molly are the last awake, Phoebe jumping all over the two of you and demanding you get downstairs as soon as possible to see what Father Christmas has left for her. You let Phoebe drag you down stairs even though you're barely awake and you crawl into Roy's lap, in his grandads armchair, at the first opportunity. He's already got a coffee made for you, just the way you like it, and a warm hand that he slips up the back of your tshirt to scratch gently against your skin as you watch Phoebe begin to open her mountain of presents.

"How many of these are from you?" You whisper, feeling Roy smile against your temple as you sip on your coffee, slowly waking up in his arms.

"Enough. They're not all for Pheeb's anyway." Roy picks you up enough to adjust your position in his lap, making it more comfortable for the both of you to sit and talk and watch presents getting opened. "Some for my mum, some for Molly, some for you."

"You're too kind to me, baby." You lean up enough to press a kiss to Roy's lips, ignoring the loud screech Phoebe lets out at the display of affection. "I got some stuff for you under there too, handsome."

"I don't see you under that tree, Father Christmas clearly mustn't have got my list." Even though you're not looking directly at Roy you can feel the smirk that is pulling at his lips.

Before you could comment on what that could possibly mean Phoebe was calling your name, sticking her hand out with a tiny, paper-wrapped box in her palm. "This one's for you, it says it's from uncle Roy!"

"For me, huh? Lets have a look then, shall we Pheeb's?" Phoebe abandoned her half opened pile of gifts to stand beside you, leaning over the arm of the arm chair and over your shoulder to get a prime look at the gift as you opened it. "Thank you, baby."

Roy pinched your hip teasingly, pressing a kiss to your cheek as he intently watched you carefully unfold the wrapping paper. "Open it first, you might not like it. I kept the receipt so... just say the word and we'll get it changed."

"It's from you, Royo, I'm sure I'll love it." You punctuated your words with a kiss to his lips, not realising just how much your words would ring true until you'd fully unwrapped the box; finding a navy blue, velvet ring box and tears in Ms Kent's eyes. "Roy..."

"I spent 36 years of my life not knowing you felt the same way about me as I felt about you." Roy took the box gently from your hold and opened it, taking the dainty and elegant ring from it and holding it between the two of you. "And I don't plan to waste another moment of my life without you by my side."

"Yes."

"Oi, you're supposed to let me fucking ask you first." A laugh bubbled past your lips despite the tears building in your eyes. "Will you make me the happiest man alive, and marry me?"

"Yes." Your hands found Roy's face before his could place the ring on your finger, pulling him into a hot and forceful kiss, tilting his head back with how much you leaned into it, into him. "Yes. Yes. Yes, please."

"You owe me £1, Uncle Roy."

Tears are shed and the rest of the gifts are opened. Christmas dinner goes by without a hitch, and before you know it the days nearly over and you find yourself in Roy's lap, in his grandads armchair, with one bowl of dessert between the two of you, like so many times before. Ms Kent is sat across from the two of you with her own bowl of dessert and she looks like she wants to say something about it. She doesn't, but only because she knows, and she knows that you and Roy know. This day was a long time coming and she's over the moon that it's come in her lifetime.

Roy's love for you was stronger then any will he had to remain stubborn, and after a life time of waiting, he'd finally found his way to you, and she was sure he would find his way to you in every lifetime; even if it took 100 years or breaking a curse. Like she'd told you on that cool September morning, the prince always comes back, and they always live happily ever after. And she was sure the two of you were going to as well.

an : if you made this this far I love you!!! I hope you enjoyed another super long Roy fic, feel free to leave some feedback or what your favourite part of the story was, or even a request from my summer sleepover prompts!! Mwah <333

#beybaldes writes !! #ted lasso x reader #roy kent one shot #roy kent x reader #roy kent imagine

[tiredcowboyy]

I cant stop thinking ab the idea of merlin one day post s5, where they all survived, becoming really secretive and protective of his room and not telling anyone at all whats inside. Not even gaius. He even gets a lock installed and whenever anybody asks he brushes it off with jokes like “its to stop arthur from finding me” or smth.

he also unrelatedly really hates any talk of destiny, going to war, and anytime morgana mentions her fear of her magic turning her merlin slightly freaks out.

That is until one day gaius manages to catch merlin off guard while hes rushing between the main room and his bedroom and walks in.

Only to see a whole bunch of stuff that hes never seen before.

Merlin freaks out, tries to play it off as some weird experiments and stuff hes been collecting but gaius can feel it, somethings different about these items, not wrong but not right. Not really magic either.

It takes 3 weeks of gaius pestering him before merlin breaks and explains to him that he IS A TIME TRAVELER. after the battle of camlan as we know it that lead to arthurs death, merlin did wait, he really did, but in the year 2020 when arthur didnt return for yet another global crisis, merlin broke and did spell upon spell until he figured out how throw himself back in time.

And holy shit did it work well. He managed to come back just at the perfect time to change everything that needed to be done to assure that everyone lives happily and safely, and when he realises hes done it, he decides to stay in this time. See his friends and family grow old as they should have. See arthur rule as he should have. Live the life he has been craving to go back to for centuries now.

Until a month in he realises how old everything is. Sure merlin can survive without his phone and stuff but theres a few things he really misses. Like his slippers, his potato peeler, his favourite hoodie, and especially his favourite tea flavours.

So once in a while he allowed himself to go back to the modern day and bring one thing back. He started with a scented candle, because candles exist in camelot and having one here shouldn’t mess up time right? Then moved onto a herbal tea that he knows if he traveled past the boarders he may be able to find similar ingredients.

Then he brings a new release of his favourite book series because he cant help it and realises small things like that dont change time.

And so thats what he’s been hiding away in his room, all of his modern day stuff. Ranging from trinkets hes collected over his life to his favourite scarf to his stuffed lion that he won at a fair in the 80s. He doesn’t go back often, only when his tea runs out or he really needs something, he tries to limit it he really does.

It takes gaius another 4 weeks to wrap his head around it all. Another 2 weeks after that to touch merlins stuffed lion thinking it may attack him at any moment.

He makes gaius promise to not tell a soul, offering him tea bags as payment. They have a nice system from then on, gaius would try a new flavour of tea everytime merlin returned, once in a while he would also bring a modern day snack (gaius yelled when he first tried salt and vinegar crisps).

A yell which led to leon finding out. And so a cycle began.

#merlin #merlin prompt #merlin fic #someone please write this #bbc merlin #arthur pendragon #merlin emrys #merlin bbc #sir gwaine #gaius #gaius and merlin #merlin and gaius #merlin incorrect quotes #modern au #modern merlin #time travel #time traveler merlin #time traveler #merthur #sir leon

[rodolfoparras]

hello again (gaz anon and also the needy soap, ill go by feral anon if thats all good)

I WANNA GROPE PRICE SO BAD, NOT EVEN IN A KINKY WAY. I WANNA FEEL HIS THICK AS BODY ON MY HANDS, I WANNA SQUEEZE AND PINCH AT HIM. I WANNA FEEL THIS MAN UP.

so yes maybe a drabble of a super handsy m!reader who can't keep his hands to himself accidently makes price horny during a meeting cause he wont stop squeezing and pinching at his thigh... it turns into a fun game of "can price cum without letting everyone know that his boy is jacking him off

Thinking about Price with a s/o who can’t help but touch him all the time and it’s not really pda, it’s a discreet hand on his thigh while he’s in a meeting, thumb mindlessly stroking it. It’s a squeeze to the shoulder before running head first into a battlefield. It’s a brief hug and a pat on the back when he’s made it to the helicopter safely.

Price has always liked it that way, the subtle ways you displayed your affection.

Anything else would be deemed unfitting for the professional environment the two of you are in and besides he’s long bypassed that age where he feels the need to hold his boyfriends hand or kiss him openly on the cheek to let the world know that he’s taken.

However, he finds himself willing to eat his words when the new recruit just doesn’t seem to want to leave you alone.

Starstruck, that’s what you called it.

You’ve had a long and successful career in the army. It’s only normal for younger recruits to want to come up you, ask for a picture or an autograph or even a story from the many lives you lived.

That doesn’t mean that it soothes the green monster living in him because he can’t help but uncomfortable fidget when some stranger rests their hand on your shoulder for a picture, can’t help but coldly stare at the way a stranger’s fingers linger on yours for longer than needed when you sign something for them, cant help but want to crush the expensive tobacco leaf he’s smoking when yet another person comes up to you two wanting to hear about your days from the army, unknowingly cutting off yours and his conversation.

Price wasn’t a big fan of pda but what harm could it do to lean a bit closer to you during a meeting, shoulders brushing, and knees knocking together.

Price had long surpassed that age of feeling the need to claim, but what harm would it do to let your pinky fingers brush, when your hand is already resting on the table.

And if he makes direct eye contact with the recruit as he holds hushed conversation with you then its only their fault for sitting directly across from him.

You’d been surprised by the sudden wave of affection but welcomed it with open arms, sending soft smiles his way when he leaned closer, briefly linking fingers under the table when no one was looking, indulged in hushed conversations until his cheeks flushed and pupils widened.

He hadn’t expect to love it this much, had done it at first because of the green monster residing inside. However he couldn’t deny how much he enjoyed having to be careful not to get caught, feeling butterflies at every word or every touch, all while being fully aware that everyone at the table knew that the two of you must be something more than just coworkers (and if the recruit had ended up looking like a kicked puppy then it’s just a win win situation.)

Price was thrilled.

However what Price hadn’t expected was that he would end up with a hard on while in the middle of the meeting.

Maybe he was a bit too thrilled.

While everyone was rising from their seat Price was pretending to organize the small pile of paper work in front of him. You who’d been sitting next to the other man had noticed his strange behavior and sent him a questioning glance but he was unwilling to meet your eyes and while the crowd dispersing you decide to stay behind and wait for Price.

“Are you coming?” You say still confused by the man’s strange behavior.

Price clears his throat feels his neck and ear burning as he gives a pathetic response “Yeah you go ahead”

He continues staring down at the table,body ever so tense until he hears the door slams shut and a sigh of relief escapes him.

However he quickly tenses up again when he feels your hands on his shoulder and he hears you whisper the words “John, sweetheart, I’ll only ask once and I want you to be honest. Are you hard under the table?”

He swallows hard, adams apple bobbing as he white knuckles the table.

“Yes-yes” he manages to stutter out feeling his ears and necks burn at his words.

“Good boy” you praise and kiss his shoulder “Now would you like for me to help you out here or take it to your room?”

“Here please” he says, head swiftly turning to meet your gaze.

“What do you say?”

His pupils are blown wide cheeks flushed and mouth agape when he says the words “Please sir touch me”

“Of course sweetheart, you know I’ll give you anything you want”

Spitball w/ me?

#hope you’re doing lovely! #feral anon #John price #john price x reader #john price x male reader #captain john price x reader #captain john price x male reader #captain John price #call of duty #sub male character #dom male reader #scribbles

[r0ttenhearts]

You Promised

scaramouche x reader, modern au.

angst, insults, no comfort

being scaramouche’s friend was.. challenging. having to put up with his snarky comments, sometimes cruel behavior, but you loved him. you had been his friend since childhood, trailing behind him even in high school. but if it wasn’t you who else would it be? scaramouche had a history of not getting along with your peers, always having to apologize for him and the things he says.

in a way you were dependent on each other. he counted on you to keep him company and out of trouble, and you cared deeply for him that you only wanted to spend your time with him. so then came the promise. the promise to go to college together and become roommates, leaving behind your broken families and tragic pasts as you both planned to go into adulthood together.

but somewhere along the way he started acting.. different. it was the last year of high school and the time to apply to college was coming up. you nudged scaramouche as he was drifting off to sleep next to you.

“hey! scara! wake up. we haven’t picked out a college yet.”

“i don’t care.. just pick something and i’ll manage to find something i want to do.” he grumbled.

you shake your head as you click on several websites until deciding on one. now all that was left was to find student housing on campus. you figured you’d do that with scara once he was awake.

watching him sleep felt almost comforting. his usual smirk off of his face and replaced with a relaxed expression was refreshing. even in his sleep he would find tranquility. a tap on scaramouches shoulder broke your trance as you watched the blonde girl shake him awake.

of course it was lumine. scaramouche yawned as he nodded up at lumine, her hands on his as you watched him being pulled out of the classroom by her.

it seemed like ever since she had come along he had kept his distance from you. your usual friday sleepovers turned to afternoons on wednesdays with lumine taking up his time on those days.

what was so special about her?

sure she was.. beautiful but what did she have that you didn’t?

she hadn’t known scaramouche since practically birth like you did. she hasn’t been the one to comfort him when his mother would say the meanest words to him.

so how?

how had she managed to whisk him away from your life?

you sighed, packing your bag as you knew better than to wait on him. you already knew he’d be walking her home rather than you.

once you got home you sat at your desk, hearing bloops as you put your headset on. it was scaramouche, messaging you if you wanted to play minecraft. you joined the call as the both of you played minecraft together.

you felt happy.. finally an afternoon when he wasn’t with her. he was having fun with you instead.

oh how you missed these days.

“hey scara, how do i cut this? this mod is confusing..” you struggled with cutting a tomato with a new food mod he had added to your server. he was silent on the other end of the call before he spoke, scaring you as you just stared at your monitor.

“archons.. how annoying could you be? you ask me for help with every little thing.

i get it your small brain can’t comprehend basic common sense, but do you have to bother me for everything?

and you want to go to college? when you can’t even figure out how to cut something on fucking minecraft?”

you stayed silent as he went on a tangent about how he really thought of you. your hands off of your keyboard as tears slipped from your eyes, rolling down your cheeks.

“i cant believe i promised to go to college with you. you know— i didn’t even want to. i just said it because i pity you. i know how much you need me when i don’t even need you. it’s so fucking funny to me how the ONE normal person in your life can’t stand you. but there you are, always following me around like a sick puppy.

it’s pitiful y/n it really is.

and you know what? i’m going to go to college with lumine instead. she’s so much more tolerable to be around than you. she doesn’t blab to me about the smallest shit i couldn’t care less about.

i know the way you look at me and i promise you i’ll never feel the same. id rather die then spend another lifetime with you.”

you choked back a sob as you grit your teeth, yelling a “fuck you.” into your mic as you shut off the server. you sobbed into your hands as you heard numerous pings coming from your dm with him.

scara: oh now you’re gonna cry? little y/n finally grew some balls now huh?

scara: too bad for you. you’re alone now. lumine was here beside me watching your stupid little outburst. have fun facing us in school for that next few weeks.

scara: don’t forget who made you. you would’ve stayed the same loser you were back then if it weren’t for me.

scara: you’re nothing

scara: you have no friends for a reason you whiney bitch

you screamed, holding onto your mouse as you clicked the bright red block button over his profile. angry tears leaked from your eyes as you pulled out your phone, blocking him on all of the social media you had him added on.

how didn’t you see it? you knew he was becoming distant but you didn’t think he hated you.

your heart ached at the thought of your life without him. the reminder that he had chosen lumine over you felt like being stabbed.

but had he ever cared for you? the same thing way you did him?

how did the once sweet, shy scaramouche turn into this monster you couldn’t recognize?

you spent the rest of the school year alone. avoiding his and lumine’s gazes every time you walked into the classroom. you’d ignore his comments and his constant need to throw small wads of paper at you.

you never thought you’d be on the receiving end of his cruelty but here you were, loud laughs as lumine pointed at you while they stood together.

how you wished to get away from them as soon as possible.

once it was graduation, you didn’t bother showing up to the ceremony. instead you picked up your diploma from the front office. you were finally going to get the fuck out of there.

you got home and packed your things, you had picked a college in a foreign region. sumeru, the nation of knowledge.

you smiled as you boarded your flight, no one to greet you off as you sat there. a feeling of relief washing over you as the plane took off.

“goodbye to the boy i once knew, and the home that wasn’t really home.”

part 2

#scara angst #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche angst #scara x y/n #scaramouche #scara x you #genshin angst

[acornsquish]

In the Middle pt. 1 // Ona Batlle x Lucy Bronze x Leila Ouahabi x Feli Rauch x Patri Guijarro

Lucy's been spoiling Ona for her birthday all day, and Ona knows there is one last present coming. What she doesn't know is that several of her friends are secretly in town - or just how much attention Lucy paid to the fantasy Ona had finally told her about one night on vacation, thinking it would never come to fruition.

Tags: Smut, 18+, minors DNI, bottom!Ona, mild degradation, voyeurism, references to group sex, mostly set up

A/N: huge shoutouts to @vixwritesagain for the majority of the inspiration behind this and @girlgenius1111 for beta-ing. couldn't do it without y'all <3

also note that part 1 is exclusively Ona x Lucy, the following parts will include more of all players listed :)

“Feliz cumpleaños, mi amor.” Lucy wraps her arm around Ona’s waist, pulling her in to press a kiss to her temple as they walk across the parking lot to Lucy’s car. 

“Thank you, baby.” Ona smiles, looking up at Lucy adoringly. “I love you.” Ona had always secretly loved birthdays and presents, but she didn’t like making a big deal out of her own, so she usually just had a small dinner party with her friends. Since she’d been with Lucy, however, the Englishwoman had taken it upon herself to spoil Ona as much as possible, going out of her way to make Ona’s freckled face and honey brown eyes light up as often as she could. Her birthday was no different – they had the day off between games, so Lucy had woken Ona up with coffee and breakfast in bed before presenting her with no less than twenty four neatly wrapped presents and a promise that the twenty fifth would come later. 

The pair had spent the day doing all of Ona’s favorite things, eating all her favorite foods, going to all her favorite places in Barcelona, cuddling and kissing and secretly staring at each other when they thought the other wasn’t looking, before going to Ona’s favorite restaurant for dinner. The longer time went on with no twenty fifth present, the more Ona had become convinced that the present would show up in their bedroom later that night, perhaps a new set of lacy lingerie or a new toy for Lucy to wreck her with. 

And the longer time goes on, the more desperate Ona is becoming for Lucy to take her home and press her into the mattress until she forgets how old she is. Lucy has her hand resting on Ona’s thigh as she drives, drawing soft, teasing circles with her fingers and creeping slowly closer to the Spaniard’s center, and Ona’s restraint is quickly waning as Lucy’s fingers dip farther and farther under the hem of her skirt.

Finally, after what feels like an eternity of trying not to squirm in her seat as she feels herself becoming wet with anticipation, Ona breaks. The second the car stops at the next stoplight, Ona grabs Lucy’s hand and drags it up under her skirt, sighing softly as it makes contact with her core and glancing over at Lucy with hooded eyes.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Lucy raises an eyebrow at Ona, but she can’t hide the beginnings of a smirk as she runs her fingers lightly over Ona through her panties. 

“I need you,” Ona whispers. “Please.” She lets out a whimper as Lucy’s finger catches on her clit, spreading her legs as far as they can go on the leather seat.

“Here?” Lucy purposely lets a condescending edge through in her tone. “You can’t even wait until we get home, you need me to touch you in the car like a slut?”

“I – it’s green.” Even as her hips cant forward into Lucy’s hand, Ona’s chin jerks almost imperceptibly towards the stoplight.

Lucy turns her face back to the road and drives off, making no move to stop her ministrations on Ona’s center. “You still have one more present to open, anyway.”

“Can’t the present wait?” Ona nearly whines.

“No.” Lucy’s tone holds no room for arguing. “You’ll like the present, baby, I promise.” She dips her fingers down to slide gently over Ona’s pussy, over and over as she feels her wetness begin to soak through the thin fabric of her panties.

It goes on like that, Lucy driving with one hand, seemingly unaffected by the way her other hand is teasing Ona and drawing small gasps and sighs out of the shorter woman every so often as they near their flat and the tension builds. 

Just as they near their flat and Ona begins to think she’s finally going to get what she wants, Lucy turns the car in the opposite direction, a smug smile playing on her lips as Ona’s head whips around to stare at her questioningly.

Ona knows Lucy well enough by this point to know that she’s not going to spill any secrets before she’s good and ready to, so she merely sighs and squirms in her seat, trying her best to be good and minimize her grinding against Lucy’s hand. 

“What are we doing here?” Ona turns to Lucy impatiently the second that the car pulls into the parking lot of a hotel, grabbing the hand between her legs and pressing it harder against herself.

“Remember last summer in Ibiza? When you told me about all the things you want to try?”

Ona nods slowly, a small smile drawing across her face as she remembers the vacation Lucy had taken her on. They’d barely seen each other for weeks beforehand and could hardly stand to keep their hands off each other, and they’d only managed to spend twenty minutes on the beach on the first day before Lucy had thrown Ona over a shoulder and carried her back to their private villa. The Englishwoman had relished in spreading Ona open on the bed and teasing her incessantly until she’d confessed every one of her dirtiest fantasies between moans, an experience that makes Ona blush scarlet just to remember.

The first few things Ona had confessed were easy, safe. Things that she knew Lucy already knew. But the second Ona had so much as hinted that she liked being watched, Lucy was pushing her back against the pillows, laying down on the couch across the room, and making her touch herself while Lucy watched. 

Ona’s hips buck off the car seat into Lucy’s hand as she remembers how her girlfriend had made her keep talking about what she wanted the whole time until she’d described all her filthiest daydreams and was begging openly for Lucy to let her come on her own fingers. She was too far gone, however, to notice how Lucy’s eyes had darkened when Ona mentioned the times that she and Patri had roomed together at Spain camp, when Leila would sneak down the hall after her roommate had gone to bed and the trio would trade orgasms all night. And she’d also failed to see the way Lucy had swallowed harshly when Ona talked about how she’d fantasized for years about experiencing an orgy, the Spaniard’s head thrown back and her breath catching in her throat at the idea of being spread out on a bed while her friends took turns using her and watching. 

Now, though, as much as her thoughts are racing, Ona can’t think of anything else that Lucy would have needed to book a hotel room for, and her jaw drops open as she searches Lucy’s eyes. “Amor, what did you do?”

Lucy smirks, drawing her hand away from Ona’s center so the shorter woman can focus on what she’s saying. “Leila texted me a few weeks ago, wanting to come to Barcelona for your birthday to surprise you. And I realized Feli was already going to be here with Wolfsburg, and Leila suggested we invite Patri. For… old time’s sake.” Lucy winks at Ona, pausing for a minute to read the expression on her freckled face before continuing. “They’re all upstairs, waiting to spoil the birthday girl. But it’s totally up to you, if you don’t want this anymore or you’re not ready to do this tonight, I’ll text them right now and we can just play games and watch movies all night.” Lucy draws Ona’s hand up to her mouth to press a kiss to the back of it. “With clothes on,” she adds as an afterthought.

Ona looks at Lucy, the shock written across her face quickly morphing to neediness and lust as she processes what’s waiting for her upstairs. “Are you sure this is okay?” she asks, feeling the throbbing between her thighs intensify but needing to know that Lucy really wants this. “I don’t need this, you know. I’m yours, always.”

“I know you’re mine, princesa.” Lucy wraps her hand around the back of Ona’s neck and pulls her over for a kiss, slipping her tongue immediately into the Spaniard’s mouth before biting sharply on her bottom lip. “You’re my pretty little slut, though, and I want you to feel good,” she murmurs between kisses. “I want to watch you be a whore for your friends, if that’s still what you want.”

Ona puts a hand on Lucy’s shoulder and shoves her back into the driver’s seat, staring at her hungrily with blown pupils before she swings a leg over the console and climbs into her girlfriend’s lap. She can’t help but smile at Lucy’s thoughtfulness, even as she’s gasping against her mouth at the filthy words. “Please,” she whines, slotting her lips together with Lucy’s once more. 

Ona gasps as Lucy slides her hands between their bodies and under her skirt once again, pushing her panties to the side as she runs her fingers through the shorter woman’s wetness.

“That’s what I thought.” Lucy pulls back just far enough to be able to look at Ona and watch the way her chest is heaving. “You’re even wetter just thinking about letting all your friends fuck you. Mi zorrita.”

“Lucia,” Ona moans, tugging on the Englishwoman’s brown hair. “Please.”

“Yeah? You’re sure?” Lucy runs her hands through Ona’s messy hair and tucks it gently behind her ear. 

“Sí, prometo. I’m sure” With one last lingering kiss pressed to Lucy’s lips, Ona reaches over to open the car door, squealing as Lucy picks her up with her hands under Ona’s ass and climbs out of the car before depositing the Spaniard gently on the ground. 

“I love you,” Lucy whispers, kissing Ona’s forehead gently. “If it gets too much, tell me and we’ll stop, okay?”

“I love you more,” Ona whispers. “And it won’t be too much.” She pecks Lucy’s cheek before pulling away with a smirk, grabbing her girlfriend’s hand and nearly dragging her across the parking lot.

#woso smut #woso imagine #woso fanfics #woso community #woso #fc barcelona femeni #ona batlle #ona batlle fanfic #ona batlle smut #ona batlle x lucy bronze #lucy bronze #lucy bronze smut #leila ouahabi #leila ouahabi smut #feli rauch #feli rauch fanfic #feli rauch smut #patri guijarro #patri guijarro fanfic #patri guijarro imagine #patri guijarro smut #ona batlle imagine #lucy bronze fanfic #lucy bronze imagine #leila ouahabi fanfic #leile ouahabi imagine #feli rauch imagine