#if this sounds specific that's because it is
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ateez as pirates who fall for you (maknae line)
read hyung line here
genre: pirate!ateez x gn!reader (fem!reader for jongho), fluff, angst, continuation of the pirate trope brainrot (but i must say i went all out for the plots this time)
length: 14.4k
c/w: heavy and mature themes - mdni, explicit language (swearing), death, violence, blood & injuries, weapons, illegal acts (piracy, attempted murder), alcohol, near-drowning, angst bc i mean angst, specific c/w for mingi’s au: hurt/comfort, allusions to depression
a/n: i’m very sad i never got to use this joke somewhere so - why are pirates called pirates? because they just arrrr 🙈🙉🙊 also to those who like connecting dots and whatnot there are a few easter eggs related to hyung line 🥚 big thanks to yumi @sorryimananti-romantic for getting me through the last three months of trying to work and write bc it’s been a ship time ha ha 😬👍
taglist: at the end
san
pov: you run away with san and the cromer
through your waning breath, you reach a trembling hand up to cup san’s jaw
“s-san, don’t do it”
he lets out a racking sob as he shakes his head, expression marred with agony and torment that you can physically feel in his white-knuckled grasp that covers your own hand
the tears that drip off his jaw become lost to the ground, which is damp from moisture and your blood
you swallow the metallic taste in your mouth, “the cromer isn’t meant for changing fate.” it hurts to take a breath and you wince as you stutter. “it never goes th- the way you want it to…you know that by now”
san’s voice is broken and pained, “i don’t fucking care. it’s not going to stop me from trying”
he grips your hand even tighter when he starts to feel it fall away from his cheek
it’s becoming tiring to keep your eyes open
maybe you can rest…just for a little bit
san will forgive you, right?
you close your eyes
just for a little while
just until the pain stops
faintly, you think you can feel your body being jostled against something warm
but it’s far away
far away
far
san clutches your limp body as he lets out a primal wail of anguish
you cannot die
you will not die
he snatches the glowing hourglass and flips it with desperation screaming in every cell of his body
and then his world goes white.
you don’t notice when the footsteps behind you suddenly fall silent
you’re too busy reasoning with the captain, whose back you are facing as he walks ahead and leads your crew further into the dim tunnels of the cave
“it’s much safer if we go over the mountain. we’ll have the advantage of higher ground to ambush the horizon”
your captain, taesung, doesn’t look at you when he answers over his shoulder, “it’s much quicker through the tunnels. we don’t have the luxury of time if we want to attack their crew before they leave the island”
“and what if they attack - the horizon can easily ambush us as long as they’ve got the cave’s exit guarded”
you immediately turn around to look at san, knowing that he’ll support your argument
only to find that he’s not there
he’s several metres behind the back of the group and frozen to the spot
even in the shadowed darkness of the musty cave, you can clearly see the ashen and shaken features of his face
approaching him slowly, your fire torch held out in front of you, you gently call, “san?”
at the sound of your voice, his eyes lock onto yours
he looks terrified
san is lost in a distorted warp of visions
he can’t make sense of nor connect what he’s seeing
but there is blood
there’s so much blood
it’s everywhere
you’re there
it’s your blood
there’s someone screaming; raw with despair
he’s screaming
the ground digs into his knees and he feels wet and sticky from your blood but also his tears and there are so many tears and the walls are cold from moisture and it’s so dark and musty even with the smell of iron in the air and god you’re dying
you’re going to die
“san?” you repeat, now in front of him and tenderly cupping his jaw
and san has to stop you from dying
his pupils focus on you once again before he desperately tries to gain his bearings
he looks around with increasing franticness
he’s in a cave and the only light he can see comes from the torch you’re holding and the others shared amongst the crew
water drips from the ceiling and along the rugged walls towards the damp ground, filling the cave with a stale and mouldy smell
all his senses scream the same thing to him
it’s just like when you died
his own voice sounds foreign to him when he manages to choke out, “let’s listen to captain”
your eyebrows pinch together at san’s sudden compliance, especially more so when he lowers the volume of his next words so that you’re the only one who can hear his soft don’t argue with him
there’s something about the way he silently pleads with his eyes that makes you nod numbly
you slip the hand that isn’t holding the torch into his and prompt him to walk again with a light tug forward towards the rest of the crew, who are not too far ahead
when the both of you have nearly caught up, san readjusts his hand in your grasp so that his is atop of yours
and so you two walk, san leading you with a sturdy hand; a line of defence between you and the rest of the crew…and the depths of the cave
the thin sheet of cotton that you lay upon does little to soften the discomfort of the cave’s floor as you and the crew prepare for a few hours of sleep, but your pillow makes up for it
your head is cushioned by san’s thigh, who’s seated upright against the wall after offering to keep watch
he’s gazing down at you with a tender smile as he slowly runs his fingers through your hair like a soothing lullaby
your eyes scan his, still trying to catch any changes in his expression that could possibly explain his strange demeanour from earlier
you want to ask him what’s wrong but there’s only so much privacy you can get in a cave with the rest of your crew
instead, you give his hand a squeeze
san’s smile fades a little and you wonder whether it’s the illusion of the light and shadows from the torches that makes his face look so gaunt
his eyes flicker around guiltily and then he looks at you whilst reciprocating your squeeze
he’s mouthing something, you realise
do you trust me?
you tighten your fingers around his in reassurance
with my life
the dimpled caverns return to san’s cheeks, and then he’s whispering to you softly, “sleep”
you don’t recall dozing off, but you must not have been asleep for very long before you’re woken by a light shake to your shoulder
the groggy mumble that starts to leave your lips is hushed by a warm kiss on your forehead
you’re met with the sight of san holding a finger against his lips when you open your eyes and your brain struggles to comprehend what’s happening
there’s a faint glow coming from under his bulging shirt, which could only be one thing
the cromer
as your neurons start firing again, you come to the realisation that apart from you and san, nobody else is awake yet
quietly, he helps you up to your feet
the silent question he asked before you fell asleep replays in your head, and although it does nothing to clear up your confusion, it helps to ease your anxiety because you meant it when you mouthed your response
you trust san with your life
so you turn away from your crew members and start walking, each step deliberate and careful, your hand clutched safely within san’s while he retraces your steps from today
and when san deems you two far enough and out of immediate danger of being caught, he pulls the cromer out of his shirt to use as a makeshift torch
you both make a run for it
when you emerge out of the cave’s entrance hours later, thighs burning from the strain, you almost stumble to your hands and knees from the blinding brightness of the afternoon sun
san tightens his hold on you and urges, “this way, love”
together, you climb the outcrop on the left and disappear further into the mountains because you can’t afford to rest near the cave
few words are exchanged as san nimbly navigates the rickety ledges and overgrown roots, muscles flexing as he pushes forward and helps you with an extended hand
you realise soon after that whilst he leads you two away from the cave, he travels parallel to the edges of the mountain trees - a guideline that keeps the long port of the island just within sight
“san,” you finally break the silence to point towards an overhang you spot, “we should take a break”
he’s sweating from exertion and lack of sleep, so he nods with a grateful smile and leads you towards it
the rock provides a decent amount of shade and conceals you two well enough with the surrounding greenery
only when he sits with a sigh does he finally let go of your hand after hours of holding on
you know that he’s one for constant physical affection, but this…this feels different
it’s like he’s afraid that you will slip away the moment he lets go of you
you turn to look at him
“san, what exactly is going on?”
he’s quiet
he doesn’t know how to tell you - is there even a way to package his next words prettily?
letting out a stuttering breath, san puts it blankly on the table, “i saw you die in my arms”
you’re stunned into silence and your throat feels even drier than before
“was it…” you dare to ask, “was it going to happen in the cave?”
he nods, “i just suddenly saw it and it felt so real. it- it was dark and wet and the smell - the smell was just awful and-”
“hey, hey, san. it’s okay, we’re not in the cave anymore,” you soothe, pressing your forehead to his
you feel him relax under your touch before he tilts his head to kiss your lips
“yeah,” he sighs against you, “you’re right”
when you pull away, the faint glow under his shirt catches your eyes
“why did you bring the cromer?”
if it had only been you and san missing from the crew, taesung might not have bothered going after the two of you
but with the missing cromer too, the captain will spend the rest of his life tracking it down - tracking you two down - if that’s what it will take
taesung isn’t stupid enough to just let go of the cromer and the inexplicable power it holds to travel between dimensions
san shimmies the hourglass out of his shirt and holds it carefully in his hands, “i need a fail-proof safety net, just in case something goes wrong and…i still don’t end up saving you”
“a safety net?” an uneasy feeling settles in your stomach, “san? what are you not telling me?”
he runs his fingers along the metal casing over and over again as he avoids looking at you
“i…i’ve used it before,” san finally admits, “i used the cromer to bring you back to life”
without thinking, you blurt, “it’s only meant for travelling between dimensions. nobody knows what the repercussions are if you try to mess with fate!”
“well, i did it.” he snaps, “you’re here, alive, and i would do it again and again to save you”
at his words, you soften
because san didn’t just see you die
he lived through seeing you die
you can’t even begin to imagine if you had been the one to experience san die in your arms
“i’m sorry,” you apologise. “thank you for saving me, and for loving me”
san’s eyes are red when he looks at you, “i’m sorry, too, for snapping at you. i know this is a lot for you to process”
you shake your head with your own watery smile
“i’m alive, and i promise i’ll stay alive”
“and i promise i’ll keep you alive,” he nudges your cheek with a playful peck
you laugh, because san makes you happy even in the most uncertain of times, and you ask, “what’s the plan now?”
“find a ship that’s willing to get us the hell out of here”
he makes a move to stand and you place your hand on the ground to push yourself up to your feet too
except your hand shifts with your weight and you end up cutting your palm open on the sharp edge of the rocks
hissing, you draw your hand back towards your chest
“shit, let me have a look,” san drops to his knees and takes your hand in his
he gently blows away the soil and rubble around your wound as you wince
it’s nothing too serious, but it’s deep enough that blood immediately begins to pool in the broken skin and seep further out onto your palm
the glow of the cromer pulses
“san,” you start when you see the cogs moving in his head
he removes one hand to pull the cromer out and presents it to the both of you
“i’m not losing you to infection from a cut, not after everything that we’ve done so far to get to here,” he quips
there’s only time to let out an exasperated sigh before he’s taking your good hand to turn the cromer together
your world goes white
the next moment when you open your eyes after blinking, you’re still there resting under the overhang in the mountain forest
san’s sitting next to you, the only sign of the cromer a faint glow under his shirt
and your hand…
there’s no cut
your head whips towards san and his eyes widen when he sees the unbroken skin of your palm
san makes a move to stand, but this time, he gathers your hands and pulls you up with him
“it worked,” you breathe out once you’re on your feet
“it worked!” san repeats, engulfing you into a crushing hug
the amount of relief he feels is uncontainable, because the cut is reassurance that he can change fate with the cromer
in high spirits, san tucks it back into the safety of his shirt after wrapping it in a length of sash and then he secures it snugly under his belt
you two need to look the part of inconspicuous travellers, and a glowing hourglass would most definitely draw unwanted attention
you and san cut through the back streets and alleyways of the small village that separates the mountain and the coast, keeping an eye out for not only your crew members - or ex-crew, you suppose - but also the members of the horizon
“remember,” san whispers into your ear as you both approach port, “if anyone asks, i’m your husband and we’re travelling merchants”
you’re too nervous to answer but you nod anyway, letting san take the lead once again
with the confidence of somebody most definitely not lying, san strides up to a sailor who is yelling at his men to load the crates faster and spins a story right out of his ass
somehow, san manages to concoct a convincing recount of how your goods were stolen by thieves, leaving you both without any means of making money, so now you are left with no choice but to go back to your hometown which happens to be on the way to the ship’s destination, which you know because you overheard the sailors talking earlier
when the sailor glances in your direction, you try to nurse your expression into one of simultaneous distress and gratitude in hopes of selling the story even further
he simply stares at the both of you and you think that he’s going to turn down your request, but then the sailor gives a sweet smile and extends his hand out in greeting, “daeho. welcome aboard”
that’s how you and san find yourselves in the ship’s hold, legs crossed side by side on the wooden floor and surrounded by a multitude of crates and barrels
neither of you realise that you’re holding your breaths and it’s not due to the stale air in the poorly ventilated hold
only when the shout of “anchors aweigh” is heard and the ship slowly starts to pull away from the dock do you finally relax, the feeling of hope slowly seeping into your bodies
because all that’s left now is to wait for the ship to dock at the next port and then you and san can disappear and start a new life
at the notion of safety, your stomach finally calls for attention with a grumble
san teases, “sounds like someone needs a bit of food,” just as his stomach answers with a growl of its own
you break out into laughter and pull him up with you to snoop inside the crates for something edible
lifting the lid to one of the crates, you peer inside to find what looks like a layer of burlap
you reach down with a hand to remove the covering and dig deeper, only to jerk your arm back when you feel the burning pain of a cut
“oh fuck, what?” you hiss as you look into the crate again, “why the hell are there so many knives?”
san is beside you within a split second, already turning you around to cradle your hand in his
the cut extends across your palm and there’s something sickening yet eerily familiar about the way the blood rapidly starts to pool and seep past the broken skin
goosebumps spread across your body when it hits you
“san,” you look up at him with a trembling voice, hardly audible over the pounding of your heart, “it’s the same cut”
his eyes bore into yours with reflected horror when your words sink in
because if it really is the same cut, then that means-
san’s attention suddenly shifts to behind you and that’s the last thing you register before your head explodes with blinding pain
your world turns black.
there’s a ceaseless hammering in your skull when you regain some semblance of awareness and it takes all of your willpower not to let the throb drag you back into unconsciousness
you open your eyes with a groan, trying to clear your vision, only to find san still out cold on the floor beside you
you scrabble closer towards him and brush his fringe out of his eyes
“san,” you shake him a little, “san, wake up”
his mouth tightens into a grimace as he’s slowly brought back to consciousness at the sound of your voice
“fuck…they hit hard,” he props himself up with another curse before he asks you in a panic, “are you hurt?”
you start to shake your head but then think better of it, “my head hurts like a bitch, but i’m okay”
san pulls you into his chest and wraps his arms around you
you let yourself sink into the safety of his embrace, pretending that everything is okay even if just for a moment
“i’m sorry, i’m so sorry,” san repeats the apology into the crown of your head
you can’t do anything but return hushed whispers of comfort and hug him tighter
a sudden clang draws you out of his arms as you both turn in the direction of the sound
that’s when you realise you’re no longer in the hold
you’re in a cell
the brig of the ship is much darker and the air is suffocatingly musty from the lack of ventilation and the perpetually damp floors and walls
damp from what exactly, you really don’t want to know
you hear the heavy thud of boots amplifying as the person approaches your cell, your eyes straining to make out their face in the dark
they squat in front of your bars
the sweet smile on daeho’s face makes him look crazed now and you shrink back to put some distance between you two
“did you have a good rest?” he asks, sounding genuinely curious
at san’s seething growl of anger, daeho raises his hands up in faux surrender and states, “i just want the cromer”
“i don’t know what you’re talking about,” san glowers
the other man wriggles his fingers at san’s waist, “you’re not very good at hiding it in your shirt”
almost as if it knows it is being talked about, the cromer flashes from under the layers of cloth
“why didn’t you just take it from us earlier,” you bite out
daeho clicks his tongue with a disappointed smile, “but then where’s the fun in that?”
he stretches a hand out and waits with his palm upturned just outside of the cell bars
“now give it to me,” he demands
san stares in retaliation, not once looking away as he slowly reaches for the cromer
he takes it out of his shirt and unwraps the sash from around it, then starts to extend the hourglass out towards daeho’s hand
as you watch with bated breath, you notice the subtle tightening of san’s grip around the metal casing and you realise he intends to flip it
except you’re not the only one who comes to the same conclusion
you see the exact moment the facade drops from daeho’s face and is replaced by his true derangement
the hand by the pistol at his side starts to move
but so do you
this time, everything turns red as the scorching heat of pain paralyses your entire body
the cromer falls to the floor at the same time as you do
from outside the cell, daeho laughs viciously, but it’s drowned out by the agonising cry that comes out of san’s chest
san desperately gathers you in his arms, hands pressing against the bullet hole to stem the blood flow
but there is so much blood
it’s everywhere
the ground digs into his knees and he’s wet and sticky from your blood but also from his own tears and there are so many tears and even with the pungent smell of iron in the air he can still smell the mustiness of the cell and he can’t get enough oxygen into his lungs because god you’re dying
and he’s suddenly struck with the heart-wrenching thought
did he unwittingly condemn you to your own fate?
or is it like the cut on your palm - is he unable to change fate no matter what decisions he makes differently?
the sob that wrenches itself out of san hurts you more than anything
“i love you,” you say, because your words are numbered and you want them all to be san’s
he shakes his head furiously, “shut up, you’re going to be fine”
your words come out effortfully, “please, i want to hear you say it one last time”
“fuck,” san buries his face in your shoulder, “i love you so, so much. i can’t live without you”
he pulls back heartbroken, “i can still change this”
through your waning breath, you reach a trembling hand up to cup san’s jaw
“s-san, don’t do it”
he lets out a racking sob as he shakes his head again, expression marred with agony and torment that you can physically feel in his white-knuckled grasp that covers your own hand
the tears that drip off his jaw become lost to the damp ground
you swallow the metallic taste in your mouth, “the cromer isn’t meant for changing fate.” it hurts to take a breath and you wince as you stutter. “it never goes th- the way you want it to…you know that by now”
san’s voice is broken and pained, “i don’t fucking care. it’s not going to stop me from trying”
he grips your hand even tighter when he starts to feel it fall away from his cheek
it’s becoming tiring to keep your eyes open
maybe you can rest…just for a little bit
san will forgive you, right?
you close your eyes
just for a little while
just until the pain stops
faintly, you think you can feel your body being jostled against something warm
but it’s far away
far away
far
san clutches your limp body as he lets out a primal wail of anguish
you cannot die
you will not die
he snatches the glowing hourglass and flips it with desperation screaming in every cell of his body
and then his world goes white.
mingi
pov: you're the crew's surgeon
you have all the time in the world to yourself
the recent raid was successful - the other vessel had surrendered quickly without putting up a fight and your ship is now well stocked up from the loot of supplies
hongjoong has promised the crew shore leave, a vacation of sorts, and so you and the crew are travelling to port malthov, a haven island for pirates
it’ll take about a week to arrive
and without a foreseeable raid or run-in with enemy vessels, there is no need for your medical duties
which is a good thing, really
but it also means that you have a lot of time
and time is your worst enemy
time is time alone with your own thoughts, time alone with your internal demons, and right now, your mind is a sinkhole of them and you are the very thing being pulled into its depths
you’re sprawled out on the upper deck, arms and legs splayed like a physical manifestation of your efforts to reach the edges of the sinkhole and hold on
you think to yourself that it’s reassuring when you can see blood
because it’s visible, physical, and you can fix it
step one, rinse the area with clean water
step two, disinfect the wound
step three, remove any foreign objects or dead skin
step four, suture as required for nastier injuries
step five, wrap a clean cloth over, under, over, under, then fasten
there’s a procedure and it makes sense
but when it’s invisible, what do you do?
there are no medical diagrams, procedures or journals that teach you how to heal your own hurt
you may be the crew’s surgeon, but you wonder how qualified you truly are if you can’t even fix yourself
the skies are clear today and the sun shines down directly on your exposed skin
it’s uncomfortable but you don’t move, limbs feeling just a little too strung tight to cooperate
you don’t think you have the energy to do much more than to just lie there and exist
and the burn of the sunlight is kind of nice
it tells you that you’re still alive - even if the feeling of living is pain
that’s where mingi finds you twenty minutes later, his face upside down as he leans over to look at your face-
only to very nearly drop a block of wood right onto you
“oh, shit,” he fumbles as the multitude of items he is carrying to his chest falls and clatters onto the deck around your head
you jolt up to save yourself from a bruised forehead and eye him, curiosity well and truly piqued
with a huff, he piles everything in front of you, followed by himself as he sits cross-legged in front of you
he looks suspiciously hopeful and expectant
“can you carve me another dolphin?”
months ago, you had tried carving ornamental animals out of small scraps of wood left over from a hull repair
most of your carvings had turned out hideous and you had tossed them overboard, but mingi had not stopped following you and begging until you gave him one
you could barely even call it a dolphin, but for some reason, he has kept it since like it’s something valuable
“i already made you one,” you start
but he protests, “i lost him!”
you blink
nevermind. maybe not so valuable
“...you lost it?”
you’re not sure whether you’re disappointed or relieved that it’s forever gone to the void
“i lost him, yes. so can you please carve me a new one?”
you blink once more and he looks back at you with wide, pleading eyes
“fine, pass me the knife,” you finally relent
he grins, handing something that feels quite familiar into your outstretched hand
“are these my scalpels?!” you clutch them defensively to your chest. “mingi, i am not carving wood with these”
mingi breaks out into pleased laughter, crescent eyes and gaping mouth as he produces a pocket knife that you can actually use
“you’re ridiculous,” you tell him, setting your medical instruments safely to one side, but you don’t really mean it
you bring the blade of the pocket knife to the edge of the wood and start whittling away
you expect mingi to get up and leave you to your devices, except he doesn’t
he stays and asks you question after question about the carving
which part are you working on now?
how do you shape the tail?
what was the first thing you tried to carve?
if you could carve something else after this, what would it be?
and it goes on for hours - as the wood gradually takes shape of the animal, as the harsh sun lowers and is replaced by the cool breeze of evening
…as mingi fills up your sinkhole and you are no longer grasping at the edges to stay afloat
it happens without you even realising, but he lets you take refuge in him from your own thoughts
and later that night, when the crew are preparing to sleep for the night, mingi will place the newly-carved dolphin at the head of his hammock
he will itch to rummage through the small chest that holds his personal belongings and treasures
he will want to unwrap the small object he has hidden away at the very bottom of his chest and put it side by side with the dolphin
but he won’t, because otherwise you’ll see the two dolphins and realise that he was lying about having lost the first one, so he’ll opt to keep it hidden
mingi thinks that he might even ask you to carve him something else tomorrow
he’ll say that his dolphin needs somebody by its side
what he won’t say though, is that he knows you need somebody by your side
and if he can offer you a few hours of mindlessness while you carve with him beside you, then he’ll ask you to make him a whole aquarium of animals
but that’s tomorrow
for now, he lets you rest on him, and you find that it doesn’t seem quite as hard to exist anymore
because sometimes, even surgeons need their own healers
you don’t have another bad day that week
technically, they’re all still bad days, but they aren’t as bad
but as it is with your luck, it all comes back to drag you underwater when the arriba pulls into port malthov and lowers its anchor
of all days, your head feels foggy, your body feels empty and your lungs feel laboured
you’re not even sad
you’re just…hollow
and the worst part is that you have absolutely no reason to be feeling this way
being up in the crow’s nest for once has given you the perfect vantage point to watch as the majority of the crew precariously run off the gangplank with whoops and hollers, splitting off to explore the town
their excitement is infectious - to everybody but you
instead, you had offered to take over yeosang’s lookout duties so that he could go to the town’s tavern
you’ve already rotted the morning and most of the afternoon away and your stomach grumbles in protest at having skipped both meals
it knows that you probably won’t be eating dinner either
“y/n,” a voice calls out to you from the deck, “are you not going into town?”
you peer over the edge of the nest and find mingi’s small form, his head craned upwards in your direction
“lookout duties,” you simply say
but mingi calls your bluff
“the whole point of shore leave is that we all get time off. captain’s still on board to make sure our ship doesn’t catch on fire or some shit, don’t worry”
when you still don’t make a move, mingi starts to climb up the rigging and you startle to your feet
“heavens, okay, i’m coming down”
he’s banned from rigging duties for a reason
when you land on the upper deck, he looks awfully smug with himself
he asks, “can we go eat seafood? not fish, but like the good stuff”
“since when did you like seafood?”
“always?”
mingi did not always like seafood but you let it slide
he guides you across the gangplank and towards the bustling streets of the town, keeping you tucked closely into his side
almost like he knows you’re feeling more fragile than usual
you two come across a market and he tells you to find a table in the outdoor seating area
when he returns to you after a while, both his hands are stacked with platters of shrimp, some crabs and even a lobster
“mingi, what-?” you break out into an astounded laugh
you can’t even find it in yourself to finish your sentence because it looks like he’s bought enough food to feed half your crew
he sets the plates down in front of you, one by one, until you can barely see the table itself
and you watch, still incredulous, as he picks up a steamed shrimp, meticulously peeling off the shells that he discards onto his plate
…before placing the peeled shrimp onto the plate in front of you
“eat,” he encourages
mingi picks up another shrimp to peel, looking away from you so as not to pressure you
but he can’t help but look and smile widely when you do eventually bring the food up to your mouth and take a bite
it tastes good
shrimp has always been one of the things you miss the most when you’re sailing and as the salty taste of the ocean spreads across your tongue, you start to feel your appetite returning
by the time you’ve swallowed, there’s already another shrimp on your plate, peeled and ready for eating
mingi smiles knowingly when you groan around your next bite
the sun may have already started to disappear into the horizon, but right now with mingi’s plate piling up with discarded shells and yours with juicy shrimp meat, the hollow cavity in your chest slowly filling with warmth, the sun is only just starting to rise for you
and mingi will keep filling your plate until your sun has fully risen into the sky
because sometimes, healing needs the help of an extra pair of hands
the day before your crew is scheduled to leave port malthov, you find yourself sitting on the sandy shores of the coastline, far away from where the arriba is docked
the wind tugs at your hair and the hems of your clothing in the direction of the ocean
you wonder what it would be like to just let yourself go and float along with the wind
your thoughts are interrupted by the soft squeaks of bare feet in the sand approaching you and mingi lowers himself down to sit by your side
no matter where you hide, he somehow always finds you
you give him a small smile when he calls your name in greeting, but it’s all you can really manage to do
it’s hard for you to talk today
but he already knows that
“can i tell you a story?” mingi isn’t really asking you
without waiting for a response he knows you can’t give, he starts to talk
“i don’t think i’ve told you about the time when yunho and i went skinny-dipping at night. i swear we saw the kraken that night”
he has told you this story before
more times than you can count on your fingers and toes combined - to the point where you have some of his exact phrases and expressions memorised
mingi knows he’s told you this story before
but he drones on anyway, adding his usual touches of dramatic flair and exaggerated details - words that he hopes keep you grounded to the spot so that you don’t disappear with the wind
(“did you know that yunho’s chest goes red when he screams in fright?”)
you want to make silly little comments about his silly little story
you want to laugh in harmony with mingi’s own rumbling sounds
except you can’t
it’s like whatever you want to say goes through a paper shredder right before it comes out of your mouth
and mingi knows
but he is willing to take all the time in the world to tape your words back together, shredded piece by shredded piece, until he can make you feel heard and seen
and even if you don’t talk, he is there to do enough talking for the both of you
some things don’t need to be said - he understands either way
because sometimes, healing looks like walking backwards on any progress that’s been made and that’s okay
after all…mingi’s been there before, too
the arriba sets sail again and hongjoong allows the crew one last night of rest before your usual duties resume
the stock of fresh produce and meat won’t last for longer than a couple of days anyway, so you all feast your stomach’s fill of food and alcohol
someone brings out an accordion and you all gather together on the upper deck as jongho sings to the music, background filled with the lively rattling of shared plates and mugs being passed around
the air is chilly but it’s crisp and fresh whenever you take a breath of it into your lungs
where being with the multitude of your crew usually makes you feel lonely, tonight, it feels okay
and from beside you, mingi sings along quietly to the music
his voice is not like jongho’s, which is soulful, emotional and powerful
mingi’s voice is deep, honest and raw as he sings the lyrics to the song of a man who is drowning and yearning to be saved
he looks at you during the last bridge, when the key changes from sorrowful to hopeful and the words tell of a man who is saved by his lover
you smile back at him, genuinely content in this moment
and even if it is only briefly, even if you will still have bad days in the future, you think that today is a good day
because healing takes form in all different ways, and being loved is one of them
maybe one day, mingi will be able to confess that he loves you
when he’s confident that you’ll be able to accept his love
not in the way where he expects you to reciprocate the same feelings for him, no
but in the way where you are able to accept the fact that you are worthy of being loved
there are no medical diagrams, procedures or journals that teach you how to heal your own hurt
but you have mingi and he is making one for you
it’s written with the ink of love on the very pages of his own heart and he will not stop writing until the day you are well and truly happy
and even if it takes forever?
well
mingi’s got a huge fucking heart
and it’s all yours
wooyoung
pov: you find a stowaway on your ship
“we’re headed off course again”
“again?” you look at your helmsman with furrowed brows
yunho nods, sighing out his next words, “i can’t get a read on north. the needle keeps flickering”
you look at the compass that’s mounted at the helm and true to his words, the tip of the arrow seesaws back and forth over the cardinal point
a quick glance down tells you that the newer compass you’ve got in your pocket is also behaving in the same manner, needle twitching despite the practised steadiness of your hands
so you know for sure that it’s not a fault in the instrument at the helm itself
but even if it were to be faulty, you would never replace it
not when it’s one of the only things you have remaining of your parents after they perished at sea
“maybe we should ask him,” yunho suggests, beckoning his head towards the deck
although seonghwa hums thoughtfully, having joined you both at the helm mid-conversation, you look at him incredulously
“you trust that person?”
yunho shrugs, “it’s not like he’s given us a reason to not trust him”
well
considering said man had been found stowing away in the cargo five days after your ship had left alcarres, who then also tried to plead for mercy by reasoning that he was ‘valuable’, you think that there’s plenty of reasons to not trust him
yunho rectifies his argument once he sees the pinched expression on your face, “as in, since we’ve found him on board”
you close your eyes and exhale
admittedly, yunho has a point
and there’s been one too many times where the man has flippantly suggested navigational changes or casually observed shifts in the winds and waters - which all turned out to be accurate - for it to be sheer luck
you open your eyes and call out to the upper deck
“stowaway”
yunho winces as seonghwa chides you with a slight elbow to your side at your choice of name, or lack thereof
said man looks at you from where he’s helping san and yeosang swab the deck, mouth tightening with wariness
the last time you had spoken the same word, it was along with an order to throw him into the brig with his wrists bound behind his back
but considering that that was the extent of his punishment for stowing away on your ship and he is now mingling amongst your crew with minimal security measures on your orders too, really, he’s gotten off scot-free
the stowaway approaches the quarterdeck with hesitant steps
you jerk your head towards the helm, “help yunho navigate the rest of the way to vlasgar. just until we can dock and work out what’s wrong with the compasses''
despite the curtness of your order, his face scrunches up into an enthusiastic grin
“of course, captain!”
you’re taken aback by his demeanour because you’re trying to find a reason to distrust him
but he’s not giving it to you
you watch as the stowaway makes himself comfortable against the helm rails and easily slips into conversation and banter with yunho amidst intermittent pointers to adjust the rudder
seonghwa nudges you from behind, “give him a little credit”
you scratch your neck awkwardly before calling out to your helmsman
“keep me updated on the ship’s course”
yunho nods and then you clear your throat, quickly glancing at the stowaway
“and thanks…wooyoung.”
you turn and leave the quarterdeck before you can fully catch a glimpse of the delighted smile the man beams at you
because if he’s not giving you reasons to dislike him, then you’re going to ensure he doesn’t start giving you reasons to like him
except…wooyoung attacks when you least expect it
it’s the night before your crew reaches vlasgar, and true to his claims when he was first discovered onboard, wooyoung has proven his value by navigating your ship through the waters without the aid of the malfunctioning compass
his innate sense for shifts in the wind and waters, combined with his understanding of celestial navigation and use of dead reckoning has meant that he is extraordinarily precise with his route
honestly, he’s freakishly accurate to the point where it’s a little unsettling
at least that’s what you tell yourself
you and hongjoong have given the crew the night off from their usual duties in preparation for a few busy days of maintenance and intel-gathering once your ship docks at vlasgar
wooyoung offers to cook in the galley and whip up a meal as fancy as he can from the select ingredients on board
you don’t have a good reason to deny him, not when the rest of your crew looks at you with eager faces at the thought of a meal that isn’t just the usual salted meat, so you send mingi along to help him locate the ingredients
also to keep an eye on wooyoung to ensure he isn’t using this as an opportunity to poison your crew, but you’re not about to admit that aloud
and that’s exactly when wooyoung chooses to attack
he attacks your heart with his cooking
granted, the standards are rock bottom, but wooyoung utilises a deadly combination of rosemary, thyme and bay leaves to prepare a hearty broth with preserved beef
he serves hardtack on the side to be softened and eaten with the broth, and jongho even manages to catch a few fish that wooyoung then scores and grills with lemon slices over the fire
mingi must also be in good spirits because he takes out the reserve of dried fruits and nuts that he’s usually pedantic over and allows wooyoung to arrange them artfully in a wooden bowl as nibblers to go with the profusion of rum that will inevitably be downed tonight
the impressive spread of food is placed on the upper deck where the entire crew sit in a rough circle together
you take one bite into the beef and curse without realising
“fucking hell, what did he put in this?”
wooyoung freezes mid-spoonful across from you in the circle
realising your words sound petrifying without context, you awkwardly amend them with your eyes glued to your bowl, “i could eat this every day,” before shoving another spoon of broth into your mouth to shut yourself up
there’s a chorus of teasing oooh’s at your words and somebody sing-songs, “captain likes youuu-r cooking”
“i don’t,” you scoff, completely ready to bite the bait and engage in this childish argument
but it’s him who comes to your defence
“it’s not my cooking, it’s just the spices that make a difference,” wooyoung insists
then he’s gesturing to the grilled fish and telling everyone to try, diverting the attention away from you
you accidentally make eye contact with him and initially flicker your eyes away out of embarrassment, but when you chance a peek back at him he’s still looking at you, his expression uncharacteristically calm and gentle when usually all you can hear these days is his raucous laughter bouncing across the deck
…not that you can recognise his laughter or anything
you stare at each other for a few more seconds before you lift up your bowl of beef broth and give him a little smile
you leave it up to him to interpret it however he wants
and just before you look away, you see the apples of his cheeks rounding with elation
wooyoung’s potentially earned himself a few points with his cooking (and perhaps with his unfailing happiness too), but maybe you’re just looking for excuses as to why you’re allowed to like him now
when you decide to take a walk in town long after midnight, your quarters having felt stuffy ever since you’d docked at vlasgar, you’re surprised to find that you’re not the only one still awake
“i’m going out for some air and maybe a drink, did you want to come?”
hongjoong shakes his head, “hwa’s gone out too, i’ll stay behind”
you pause, wondering whether it’d be rude if you didn’t extend the invitation to wooyoung, considering he’s literally two feet away
“what about you?” you end up offering
wooyoung excitedly hops up to his feet, “yeah, i’ll come with”
to your own surprise, you find that you’re not particularly disappointed by his response
the streets of vlasgar are empty, considering the late hour, and your leather shoes clack in unison against the cobblestones as you walk together
you’re not really sure what to say to fill the silence but wooyoung easily talks about anything and everything and you’re content to just listen
your feet eventually take you towards a small alehouse and you both settle down at one of the tables further away from the live music playing
the oil lamps flicker dimly along the wall, casting small dancing shadows on the surface of your mugs of ale
“my father never liked the taste of ale,” wooyoung suddenly muses after a swallow
you note the use of past tense
“is he…still around?” you ask tentatively
he makes a noise of refutation, the quietest he’s been tonight, before he reveals, “he took his own life”
“oh, wooyoung,” you breathe out
he curls his hands around his mug, “it’s already been two years, but it still hurts”
in a moment of empathy, you gently place your hand over his
your tone is bitter when you reply, “time doesn’t mean that it hurts any less, it just gets easier to pretend that it doesn’t”
he looks up at you, surprised by the touch of your hand but also by the sorrow reflected in your eyes
“have you also lost somebody?”
you nod at his question
“my parents,” you hesitate before adding, “their ship got swept under a rogue wave, the same night it turned into a tidal wave that destroyed the city of light”
wooyoung looks at you with wide eyes, “the one along the north coast? six- no, seven years ago?”
there’s not a single person who doesn’t know about it; when an apocalyptic wave had wiped out an entire city overnight
he places his other hand over yours when you nod again, creating a sandwich of comforting hands in the shared experience of loss and grief
you smile wistfully and he returns it
“well now that we’ve exchanged childhood trauma, care to tell me the real reason why you were on my ship, stowaway?” you half-joke
wooyoung laughs, each breath a pronounced cackle of joy, and you find the corners of your lips pulling themselves upwards too
“i’m being chased by a lunatic who’s out for my blood,” he deadpans
“that would have been nice to know before i let you join my crew”
wooyoung grins wickedly, “i’m part of your crew?”
“i’m definitely rethinking it,” you banter before you add on seriously, “only if you want to be”
he pulls his hands back to salute you loudly, “it would be my honour to be your human compass! jung wooyoung at your crew’s service!”
“shut the fuck up!” you hiss in embarrassment, but there’s no bite to your words and you’re laughing into your own hands
you tip back the remains of your ale and then beckon to wooyoung, “let’s head back, shall we?”
“yeah,” he gives you a dazzling smile
he pushes his chair back to stand up and you head towards the doors together
just as you walk past one of the tables, a man abruptly stands up and knocks into wooyoung’s shoulder harshly
your hand flies out to steady him as the man stares at wooyoung, then turns to leave without another word
“what’s his problem,” you mutter angrily. “are you okay?”
wooyoung reassures you with a placating squeeze to your arm before leading you out of the alehouse
as you retrace your steps back to the ship, you pass by a rickety stall that makes you falter
the wood of the table is rotting and standing on its last legs and there’s a roughly thatched roof propped up above its goods
even though the stall is enshrouded by the shadows of the clouded moonlight, you still wonder how you missed it on your way to the alehouse, considering it’s the only stall along the empty street, and with a vendor, no less
there’s an old woman bearing the burdens of living across her skin and in her posture, sitting hunched on an equally as weathered crate beside the table
you’re drawn towards it - by its ambience, seller or the familiar instruments lain on the table, you don’t know
the woman’s head is covered by a dusty shawl but you don’t miss the way her eyes bore beadily into wooyoung as you both approach
you reach out and skim your fingertips across the cool brass of the compasses on the table
a frown adorns your face when you notice there’s something strange about all of them
like the compass in your own pocket and the one mounted on your ship’s helm, the needles all swing indecisively over the north point, as if some unknown force is meddling with the magnetic field of the earth itself
you let out a little scoff of disbelief, “they’re all useless”
with a final glance at the table, you and wooyoung start to walk off
but then a raspy voice beckons at your backs, a ghost of a hand that tickles the hair on the nape of your necks, “the only time a compass is useless is when you have something better nearby”
unable to ignore the sensation, you look over your shoulder, “what do you mean by something better?”
a toothless smile; one that appears to know a secret that it doesn’t want to let you in on
“true north”
her cryptic answer alone is enough to tell you that you’re wasting your time
she doesn’t say anything else when you walk off for good this time after bidding her a tight-smiled farewell, not that you would have stopped either way if she did
wooyoung hurries to catch up to you
as he falls into step with you, he asks, “do you believe what she’s saying?”
“of course not, it doesn’t make any sense,” you glance at the tavern you’re walking past, telling you that the port is close now. “how can you have true north?”
wooyoung’s brows knit together, “well, there’s that old legend that says true north isn’t actually a direction, but a-”
he’s cut off by an amused voice behind you both
“so it really is you…jung wooyoung”
when you turn around, you’re met with the sight of a man donning a long, velvet coat and buckled shoes - articles of clothing very obviously pirated from the wealthy
it’s evident that he and wooyoung are acquainted in one way or another, but from the way wooyoung’s face loses its colour, they’re acquainted in a bad way
immediately, your hackles are raised
the man’s tone is saccharine as he continues, “when one of my men said that they had spotted you, i didn’t believe him”
“what do you want?” you snarl at the same time wooyoung murmurs next to you, “it’s the lunatic. jang hyunsoo”
hyunsoo cocks his head as he stares you dead in the eye, “i want him. dead.”
your face darkens, unwilling to back down, “and why are you so intent on killing him?”
“oh?” he raises an eyebrow in delight at your answer. “you must not know who he truly is”
sick of his bullshit, you reach down towards your belt to unsheath a throwing dagger and hold it in front of your body, “i don’t care who the fuck he is. he’s my crew member and that’s all that ma-”
“he’s the man that the legends speak of. blessed by the sea gods, bearer of the oceans’ wisdom - jung wooyoung is true north”
those two words again
you don’t understand why everyone you come across today seems to be so fixated on the idea of…
suddenly, you remember.
legends tell a story of true north - not a direction pointing to the earth’s axis, but a person
a man blessed by the gods of the sea with the power to be all-knowing when it comes to the waters
he possesses the innate ability to navigate without use of any instruments or celestial bodies; the wisdom of which passageways and courses to sail; the subconscious understanding of mother nature and her elements
the powers are passed down through his bloodline for generations, but the blessing does not stay sacred for long
human greed and coveting eventually lead to the murder of the bearer of true north at the time, and the powers are transferred to the murderer, permanently staining the bloodline and commencing the paradoxical cycle of sinning for a blessing
however, this does not go unpunished
the gods of the sea are enraged and in their uncontainable wrath they cause-
your memory ends there no matter how hard you try to recall the rest of the legend
wooyoung interrupts
“if you kill me, there’s no guarantee you’ll survive the consequences,” he tries to reason with the other. “just have a look at how close we are to sea”
you’re lost but hyunsoo sneers, “it’s not your power that i’m hungry for. it’s only fair that i spill your blood, after your father spilled the blood of my family”
at the mention of his father, wooyoung growls, “what the fuck do you think you’re saying”
“how do you think your father became true north? or better yet, let me jog your memory,” hyunsoo’s expression becomes hauntingly blank, “what happened seven years ago that wiped out a whole city because the sea gods had been angered?”
your breath hitches as you involuntarily whisper, the remaining piece of the puzzle slotting into memory, “...a tidal wave”
“yes,” he acknowledges your words but keeps his eyes drilling into wooyoung, “because true north - my father - was killed”
as were your parents by extension of the consequences
“killed by my father,” wooyoung concludes, voice frail as everything rapidly starts to reveal itself
one more revelation makes him look at you with a face of horror and remorse, “y/n…your parents…”
without hesitation, you push aside your own anguish for him
“wooyoung,” you warn, “it’s not your fault”
because you see it
the very moment his eyes start clouding over as he willingly takes on the burden of guilt wrongfully left behind by his deceased father - the same guilt that eventually took the man’s own life
wooyoung, who, with a heart and soul too pure, would rather take the blame himself than to push it onto somebody else
you step in front of him, knife raised in protection
because despite your best efforts, wooyoung had not only secretly stowed himself away on your ship but has also secretly stowed himself away in your heart
“what are you doing?” he tries to tug you behind him
there’s a teasing lilt in your voice as you stand steadfast, “stowaway, you’ve ruined navigating for me now - made it too easy for me and the crew. so you better fuckin’ take responsibility and be my compass for as long as i sail”
“how touching,” hyunsoo coos patronisingly before he draws the cutlass from his sheath, “looks like i’ll just have to kill the both of you”
you don’t stop wooyoung this time from stepping up to stand by your side, his own hands armed with dual daggers and his demeanour now iron-willed to fight
because if you’re prepared to fight for him, then wooyoung is prepared to fight twice as hard for you
tonight, either hyunsoo dies, or you both go down trying
the tension in the air is punctuated only by the slight scrape of your soles as you and wooyoung lower your stances and shift further onto your front feet
you had never believed in the sea gods until now, but you pray that they’re watching over you both
and indeed they are
they answer your prayers in the form of a deafening gunshot in the nearby tavern
hyunsoo flinches at the sudden commotion - only slightly, but the distraction in attentiveness is more than enough
now.
as you and wooyoung leap forward together in unison, weapons raised, the needles in your hearts’ compasses waver for one final time before they settle and point resolutely in one direction
your needle at wooyoung; wooyoung’s needle at you
because compasses will always point at true north and that’s exactly what you are to him and him to you
each other’s true north
jongho
pov: you're a mermaid who saves him
you follow the shadow of the ship’s hull, gliding effortlessly through the waters
you know that you shouldn’t be following so closely but it’s hard to refuse the temptation that comes hand in hand with storms
there’s a chance that vessels will toss cargo overboard as a last-ditch effort to save their ship from sinking
and if you’re really lucky, the vessel might sink entirely and you’ll be able to spend the next few days rummaging its ruins, scavenging for shiny treasures and intriguing objects
besides, what’s the worst that could happen?
no sailor or pirate in their right mind would think to cast a fishing net in this weather
you only have your carelessness and recklessness to blame, but regret won’t change anything about your current situation
you feel the strange lurch in your stomach as the fishing net you’re trapped inside is pulled out of the water, up along the side of the ship’s hull, until it levels with the gunwale
there’s someone standing there waiting
his face is still rounded and limbs still gangly with the telltale signs of youth
the fish around you jerk around desperately, a physical manifestation of your terror, while you lock eyes with the young teenager and grip at the net with white-knuckled fists
you are at his complete mercy
he stares in shock at your form, until you beg a single word
“please”
immediately, he draws a small pocket knife and starts to frantically cut through the net
there’s another questioning voice from somewhere on the deck that you can’t make out the words to, but from the way the boy in front of you picks up speed, you’re seconds away from being discovered
“come on, come on, come on,” the boy mutters through gritted teeth
there’s a slight jerk as he cuts through the strands of flax and a few fish slither their way out, the hole starting to become bigger
he lets out a hiss of pain when he accidentally slices through his own hand in his haste
but even then, he does not stop or falter
and then you hear it
the ripping of the material when the weight of yourself and the other fish tear the remainder of the net
you plummet into the ocean
and the last thing you see before the world above becomes blurred by the waters is the boy’s wide eyes peering over the ship’s edge as he watches you fall
jongho struggles to adjust his centre of gravity as the ropes stutter underneath him
he chances letting go of the rigging briefly with one hand so that he can wipe the rain out of his eyes, which is pouring down incessantly and obscuring his vision
overhead, the top sail continues to billow and flap in an angry dance as the rapidly shifting winds tangle it further
he swallows thickly and grips the rigging once again
he needs to climb up and untangle the damned sail, fast
one hand extending outwards to grab the running rigging, jongho supports himself on shaky legs so that he can unfurl the twisted edges of the sail from around the ropes
it’s difficult enough having to chase the mocking flits of the canvas in the gale, but it’s fucking hellish with the added lurching and pitching of the ship as it’s battered by the swells of the sea
he finally manages to get a good grip on the sail and tugs hard, feeling it give way and flush full as it catches the wind properly now that it’s free
except the force of it sends the material swelling right in his face and he slips
by some saving grace, the combined movement of another colossal wave sends his body careening through the air in a wide arch
he does not land on the upper deck in a heap of broken bones
instead, he plummets into the ocean
and the last thing jongho sees before he loses consciousness is the shimmer and flick of a tail
your body reacts instantaneously to the sudden intrusion of something plunging into the waters in front of you, your tail swishing to increase your distance
for a brief second your heart seizes up in fright at the thought of a harpoon
but then you see it - see him
apart from the young teen who had freed you years ago, you have never seen a human up close before
and certainly not one in the ocean; in your home
there is something about the man before you that is beautiful yet haunting
it is as if time and gravity have warped his very existence
you see a weak flail of legs, a desperate hand reaching for the surface, floating tendrils of hair, but even in the face of approaching death, his movements appear slow and graceful in the water
as the pockets of air and bubbles of foam dissipate from around him and cruelly escape upwards without him, the man stills - grand and slow as his form steadily starts to make a descent towards the sandy bottom of the ocean
in folklore amongst your merpeople, humans are as swift, sure and savage on land as they are aboard their monstrous vessels
and yet, watching the ethereal existence of this man before you, you realise that once humans are underwater, they are at the complete mercy of mother nature and her beings
you gingerly swim closer
when you wrap your arm around the man’s limp body, his skin is warm under your fingertips
you’re reminded of the fact that he is at your complete mercy
and so you swim.
the moment jongho regains consciousness, his chest involuntarily contracts in an attempt to take a huge, stuttering breath
he curls onto his side instead, one hand scrabbling in the wet sand and his other arm crushed between the ground and his upper body as he hacks up his lungs with retching motions
the salt water burns even more coming back up than it did going down and his eyes sting with tears
when the convulsions cease, jongho closes his eyes and rests his forehead against the cool sand, trying to regain his breath-
and bearings
the jarring clarity has him sitting up abruptly as he tries to recall where he is and what he’s doing
there was the storm
the tangled sail
him climbing up the riggings
falling down, down, down
and then…
you
your eyes widen when the man’s unfocused gaze suddenly sweeps the waters and lands on the small part of your face that is exposed and peering at him
instinctively, you duck underwater, the notion of hiding your existence from humans ingrained into you
but even though he only sees a glimpse of you, jongho would recognise you from anywhere
it’s hard to forget when he’s kept his eyes peeled on the waters since that day, hoping to see you once again
he can’t believe that the mermaid he once saved would end up being his saviour
but he guesses that’s what people call fate - an alignment of miracles
he glances around at his surroundings to find himself in the safety of a small cove
you dare to emerge your curious eyes again when you see the form of the man stand up with his gaze on the sand, seemingly in search of something
he fumbles along the edge of the coast, reaching down several times to grasp things too small for you to discern
it seems that he becomes satisfied with what he has found, because he then sets them all down in the wet sand - right where the tide kisses the shore in a teasing game of chase - and takes several steps backwards so that he is no longer close to the waters
the man scratches the back of his head as he gestures vaguely to the pile, appearing to want to say something before thinking better of it and turning around to pick at the driftwood further inland
you wait, trying to gauge his actions
but when it becomes clear to you that he is not attempting to catch you off guard, you cautiously swim closer to shore
you are able to rest your forearms comfortably on the shoreline’s sand from how close you get
and then you see it
a small pile of glossy pebbles and patterned shells
a peace offering of pretty things he could find that he thought you might like
you duck under the water again, but this time to hide your shy smile as opposed to an act of instinctual self-preservation
jongho looks at the hefty pile of dried wood that he has gathered in the meantime, deeming it enough to keep a fire going for the inevitable night he will have to spend at the cove
he’s tried his hardest not to look out to the waters, wanting to gain your trust
but he can’t help it this time when his eyes are drawn to the little mound of his sincerity in the sand
…only to find it untouched, and you nowhere to be seen
he tries not to feel disappointed
after all, you have no reason to trust him
so he sets his mind on starting a fire before the sun sets completely instead, trying to ignore the growing dryness in his throat
when he finally nurses a spark into a flame an hour later, jongho almost misses it in his fatigued state
but it’s unmistakable when he walks closer
gone is his own pile of pebbles and shells
in its stead is a jumbled collection of broken combs, rusted locks and a glass bottle
a peace offering of peculiar things you had found that you thought he might need
jongho doesn’t know it, but as he bends down to carefully gather every gift and safekeep them closer to his fire, he is not the only one with a bashful smile on his face
you tell yourself it’s purely curiosity and displaced familiarity that makes you linger and return to the cove the very next morning
you’re well aware what the risks are if you fall in love with a human
how many stories have you heard of mermaids and mermen alike, falling for a human, only for their love to be unilateral or rejected?
their tails slowly lose their lustre as gradual paralysis takes over until they lose complete control
quite literally drowning within their own body, they eventually sink to the bottom of the ocean to perish with the decaying wreckages of sunken ships…
and the countless corpses of sailors, pirates and other unfortunate souls alike
it’s ironic
no matter how much folklore makes out humans and merpeople to be different, you all end up the same in the face of death; buried in the soil of the earth or buried in the sand of the ocean bottom
side by side
jongho stands in that very ocean right now, sleeves and pants rolled up to keep them as dry as possible as he crouches over with the water up to his thighs
he would try to fashion a fishing hook or harpoon of some sort, but with the possibility that you may be close by in the waters, he doesn’t want to risk using anything that could hurt you
so he resorts to using his bare hands
you’ve been watching from the safety of the water for well over half an hour now, curious and slightly endeared by his clumsy attempts to grab at something
you’re not sure what, but you can see the fish as they dart teasingly through his legs and from out of his reach
for beings that are supposedly apex predators, this human doesn’t seem intimidating at all
so, very cautiously, you swim up closer to him
jongho feels himself freezing at the sight of you approaching - not because he’s afraid of you, but because he’s afraid he’ll scare you away
he holds his breath as you hesitate and linger just out of his reach, then swim up and bump his leg playfully with your tail as you circle around him once
he’s reminded of a puppy wanting to sniff out somebody unfamiliar and his eyes follow your form with rounded fondness
“hi,” he breathes out softly, “i’m jongho”
your tail swishes with sudden movement, splashing him with water and he giggles
you can hear it clearly even from under water and your heart nearly stops
if this man - if jongho - was a siren, the sounds of his happiness would be his song of calling
you want to hear it again
jongho sucks in a breath when you dare to emerge from the water’s surface, presenting him with a fish held carefully between your lips and one more in each of your hands
he’s a little dumbfounded at how easily you managed to catch them as he gently takes the one from in between your teeth
the still-flailing fish in his hands is peppered with two tiny neat rows of puncture holes where you had carefully bitten into it
he finds it so fucking cute, especially when you continue to peer up at him with expectant eyes, wanting to know if it was the fish that he was trying to catch this whole time
he wants to thank you, and not just for the fish
so he fumbles through his words when he asks, “would you like to eat with me? unless…” he trails off, “unless you don’t eat fish because…”
are mermaids technically fish?
did he really just offer you the mermaid equivalent of human flesh to eat?
before jongho can panic and try to salvage the situation, you give him a shy smile and nod
jongho makes a fire as close to the shore as possible without the wood at risk of becoming wet
as he spears the fish onto sticks so that he can hold them over the flames, you gather the courage to slide out of the shallow waters so that you can lay on the damp sand closer to him
whilst you can for short periods, you rarely ever fully emerge out of the waters because you leave yourself vulnerable without the full mobility of your body
but jongho makes you feel safe enough to do so
and he must at least partially recognise the amount of trust you are placing in him because he looks at you in awe, the unveiled beauty of your tail now in full display
your scales are a kaleidoscope of cerulean, mauve and periwinkle, reflecting onto the sand below you in a magical dance with each of your slight movements
he notices that the gradient peters out into shades of salmon and coral the closer the scales are to your waist and he cannot tear his eyes away from you
jongho thinks to himself that you were created by the hands of the sea god, who then named the word beautiful after you
and even then, the word does not seem to do you justice
“why are you staring?”
your voice is simultaneously bashful and teasing, yet jongho is utterly mortified that your first words to him are ones exposing his smitten behaviour
his brain kickstarts in panic and he blurts out the first thing that comes to mind
“if your tail gets too close to fire, will you start smelling like grilled fish?”
for a split second, your expression contorts into one of pure horror, before the absurdity of his question breaks down the remainder of your reservations and you lose yourself in laughter
a pretty blush settles over the round of jongho’s cheeks and then he is also laughing with you
together, where the land and sea unite, the sounds of your shared happiness fill the air
his song of calling chimes melodiously in your heart even as you swim away for the night
but the dangerous thing about a siren’s song is that you don’t realise you’ve become captivated…
until it’s too late
you’re looking down at the object in your hands as you swim for the cove
it’s cream-coloured and smooth to touch, with several blunt tips extending from one side
you’ve always wondered what it is and so you decide to see if jongho will know
you don’t notice the large rock formation jutting out of the seabed until it’s almost right in front of you and at the last second, you flex your tail to manoeuvre yourself around it
except you must miscalculate your distance because you end up grazing yourself on the sharp edges of the rock
it doesn’t puncture your scales but it certainly catches you off guard - your organs and senses work in a way that ensures you never collide into anything so long as you are underwater
so then, why?
you look down and your heart drops
tentatively, you spin around once, eyes never leaving their focus
you realise it’s not a trick of the lighting or the water
your scales have started to lose their shimmer
jongho is beginning to think that you won’t show up today when you finally do, one of your treasures cradled in your hands and a smile on your face that doesn’t quite reach your eyes
(you weren’t going to show up, not after realising that you need to stop yourself from falling further in love with jongho if you want to live, but you decide to be selfish one last time and say goodbye, even if you’re the only one who knows it’s a goodbye)
“what’s that?” he gestures towards your hands with his chin as you slide your upper body out of the shallow waters, leaving your tail to be submerged when the waves come in
you uncurl your fingers with a shrug
“it’s a comb,” he answers his own question as he turns it over in his hand, “made out of animal bone, i think”
you look at him curiously as he sits down, unbothered about wetting his clothes, and you ask, “what’s a comb?”
jongho brings it up to his head and pretends to move it up and down
“you run it through your hair to untangle it”
he pauses as his eyes flicker to your hair then back to your face
“i can…show you how to use it…if you want?” he offers
just once, you’ll allow yourself to get close to him just this once
when you nod and sit up, jongho shifts himself so that he is behind you
you try not to shiver when you feel the heat of his chest enveloping your back as he reaches forward to gently gather the hair from around your face and neck
he steadies your head with one of his hands, the other bringing the teeth of the comb through the slight waves of your hair
his touch is soft and loving in the way he tries not to tug too hard when he encounters a knot
his fingertips skim against you intimately but with an innocence that betrays the fact that he has never brushed somebody’s hair before
you feel your shoulders relaxing into his touch and your eyes close, blissfully - and perhaps deliberately - ignorant to the fading radiance of your body
“are you feeling okay?” jongho’s voice sounds even more alluring when it’s right next to your ear and you can’t help but shudder this time. “you seem paler than usual”
he brings a hand down to your waist and turns you towards him so that he can see you better
you try to formulate an answer, “i…”
i think i’m in love with you
of course, you would never tell him that
but before you can tell him that you’re fine, you become distracted by the glimpse of something on his hand that’s still resting on your waist
a scar
“is that- how did you get this?”
you run your thumb lightly over the taut, white line that runs from his wrist to the knuckle of his index finger
as you’re suddenly reminded of the familiar memory of a teenager with rounded cheeks and gangly limbs, the man beside you with those very same eyes looks at you fondly
“i cut myself trying to free a mermaid from a fishing net”
your gaze is unfocused as you process the information
the effects of the shattering revelation are immediate and a terrifying numbness starts to creep up your tail
because what you didn’t know - what nobody in folklore knew - was that the effects of paralysis and onset of death are accelerated when you fall in love with someone again for the second time
years ago, your heart had been claimed by the young man who had freed you at his own expense
you had managed to survive the heartbreak due to the briefness of your encounter, your paralysis fading and tail regaining its beauty when you never saw him again
but the effects of your unilateral love have not vanished entirely as you and your merpeople have believed it to
they have simply lay dormant like a disease, waiting for the right time to resurface when your feelings are rekindled
and so now it snowballs and gains traction at a speed that cannot be stopped, racing to catch up on the numerous years that you have cheated death where you thought you did not love jongho
“why is your tail turning grey?” the voice of the man you love is pinched with muted panic
you never thought you would ever be afraid of your own tail; your own body
yet, when you look down to see the monochrome advancing up each layer of your scales, you are absolutely petrified
your tail is starting to look like a stone statue and you know it won’t be long until that’s exactly what you become - motionless and unmoving
“y/n! why is your tail grey?!” jongho repeats with a shout, in full blown panic due to your lack of response
you can’t- won’t die in front of him
your lower body is almost deadweight with immobility and you bite back tears as you’re forced to crawl pathetically towards the water with your arms
jongho scrabbles to his feet as he hovers next to you, hands wanting to help but not quite touching you because he’s not sure what’s happening and he doesn’t know what he can do for you and you look like you’re in pain but he doesn’t know why-
“don’t!” you bark out sharply
he freezes in shock
you’re frightened and angry and you want to yell at something, someone, but…
you could never yell at jongho
with a much softer, albeit shaky voice, you tell him, “don’t look for me”
and before you can hear the pained noise that escapes jongho’s lips, you drag yourself back into the water
except a few metres after you’ve submerge yourself, the unthinkable happens
you. cannot. breathe.
you’re drowning.
jongho doesn’t care if you’ll hate him forever, doesn’t care if this is the last time you’ll choose to see him, but he will not just stand and watch when it looks like you are leaving to die alone
his body moves with the decisions of his heart before his mind tells him otherwise
he dives into the water after you
the world distorts around him; a moment of weightlessness as the waters easily shift to accommodate his body; the bubbling sound of air pockets reverberating inside his very skull; the shock of cold that overrides every other bodily sense
jongho forces his eyes open with numerous blinks until he can see you
your form is eerily still, and yet, you remain bewitching
he kicks his legs desperately with one arm outstretched and as soon as you are within reach, he tugs you into his chest
you’re limp to touch, lips slack and parted as if the very essence of your soul is escaping through your mouth
jongho will not let you die
lungs starting to burn and heartbeat pounding in his ears, he presses his lips against yours
a kiss of life-
he closes his eyes
-and love
but you don’t respond
jongho ignores his instincts even as his body screams to part from you and kick upwards for a breath
instead, he moves his jaws to kiss you even harder
and then he feels it
he almost sobs into you when your lips twitch weakly against his
with renewed vigour, you’re sealing your mouth around his bottom lip as you respond, capturing him in a real kiss
below your joined lips, your scales start to bloom with their full brilliance once again
your tail shimmers brighter than before, reflecting intricate patterns of fractals with each slight ripple of the water as you open your eyes to the sight of jongho’s face, beautifully swathed in the incandescence of the rainbow
you can move again
you flick your tail, jongho’s arms still firmly around your waist and you both burst upwards, breaking the water’s surface with spluttering breaths
he desperately treads you both backwards towards the shore even though you can easily hold your own now
“jongho, you-”
he takes one look at you before he cuts your words off and plunges himself back underwater, stunning you into stupor, until he re-emerges with another splutter
“your tail!” he yells with overwhelming relief, face still scrunched as he tries to sweep his fringe up and wipe the water from out of his eyes
“yeah…” voice muted as you process the fact that you’re still alive, “my tail…”
“fuck, you scared me”
jongho’s eyes are bloodshot as they stare into yours, and you know for a fact that they aren’t just red from the irritation of salt water
you bring up a hand to rest it on his chest, right where his heart still thumps rapidly under your touch, and you apologise with a small smile, “sorry…i scared me, too”
he huffs a little before looking at you earnestly
“don’t ever do that again”
the water is now shallow enough that jongho can stand, but it’s deep enough that you can still drift effortlessly
it’s the perfect harmony where land and sea unite; where a human and a mermaid interact
where you, the enchanter, and jongho, the enchanted, find a balance of love
“i won’t,” you promise
on land, humans tell a story of a mermaid who falls in love with a man
a mermaid who is ready to give up her voice in exchange for her happily ever after
but in the sea, merpeople tell a story of a man who falls in love with a mermaid
a man who is ready to give up his life in exchange for his happily ever after
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i NEED jealous Max. Please 🥺🥺🥺 I love jealous/possessive guys haha the feminism just leaves my body
Me too! GOD. Me, too.
It took me ages to decide how to go about this because I had soooo many ideas but I hope you like it!
✨set during the Miami GP weekend 2022✨
Everybody wants you, but I don’t like a gold rush
Max glances down at his watch. 17 minutes. 17 minutes you’ve been standing in the gallery area of the garage, fanning yourself with a magazine - with Max’s face on the front of it, no less - in the Miami heat, talking to some freakishly tall guy in a Louis Vuitton denim jacket and aviator sunglasses. He’s so painfully American that Max wonders what you even have to talk about for…eighteen minutes.
You tighten your high ponytail while Paul Bunyon talks, his mouth wide with every word. Max studies your face for any sign that you’re bored. He’s bored of watching this, but he knows from experience that not looking isn’t a real option. You haven’t looked over at him once in those eighteen minutes, in fact you haven’t even been distracted by the mechanics moving around or the noise of drilling and clattering tools.
This guy must be really fucking interesting.
You smile at something Captain America says and Max feels his jaw clenched so hard he thinks a tooth is going to crack.
It’s like he’s thirteen again, watching you stand in the middle of the makeshift paddock at the karting track, swarmed by every one of his competitors, their parents packing up their stuff as they vie for your attention. He was the only one who stayed away, following his dad’s instructions on how to properly dismantle and store things while sneaking glimpses at the show you were running. He would win every race and still go home feeling like a loser.
It’s different now, of course. He doesn’t take your gregarious nature so personally now, and he can admit he understands what men see in you now, even if he doesn’t feel it. But he’d be lying if he said it doesn’t trigger something in him to see the way men react to you. It might irritate him less if you enjoyed it, but you’ve long since grown out of that. Now, you expect it so much that you ignore it, and Max has no choice to but to notice it, the same way you’d notice a rusty knife embedded in your side.
“You’re not listening to me, are you?” GP says, which snaps Max out of his calculations.
“I’m listening,” Max says, fiddling with the brim of his cap. “Drive fast, win race, I got it,”
GP frowns at his dismissive tone, and Max makes a point of looking at his water bottle, lest GP realise what actually had his attention. “Max, you need to focus. What are you even-“ It’s the sound of your laugh - high pitched over the deep bass of the music - that makes GP look across the garage. His features twist in disapproval as he turns back to Max. “You’ve got to be kidding me,”
Max looks down at his shoes, moving his foot as he inspects them. “What?”
Above him, GP groans. “I’m not going to say anything about the situation as a whole, because it’s waste of my time. But specifically now, she’s right there, she’s not going anywhere. Can we please just go through this once and then you can carry on staring?”
Max rolls his eyes, steeling his face as a cameraman enters the garage. He’s wearing a Red Bull shirt so Max doesn’t mind too much, but he can’t be captured looking as morose as he feels. The cameraman pans past him and onto you and the guest. Max watches you cringe as the guy throws up some hand sign to the camera, clearly at home with the media attention.
“Who even is that?” Max asks, unable to hide his rancour. He’s probably going to be forced to take a picture with Popeye later.
“I don’t know, some American football player?” GP says with a shrug, giving Max a helpless look. GP couldn’t give less of a shit about the celebrity guests touted around the gargae, and normally Max is his ally. “Are we done?”
Max nods, but not even a second later he’s looking again. It gets worse the more you talk, he can see this guy becoming more enchanted by the second. He wonders what kind of steroids they take in American sports leagues because the meathead is acting like a dog in heat. He leans towards you at an angle that is wholly unnecessary, his eyes fixated on your mouth, nodding too emphatically at everything you say.
“My God, why doesn’t he just lick her face,” Max says incredulously, more to himself than anything.
“Max,” GP sighs.
“Come on,” Max implores with a scoff, stopping himself from outright gesturing in your direction. “Look at him. That’s embarrassing,”
GP fixes Max with a deadpan expression. “Right, but you being sulky and jealous is the height of cool?”
“I’m not jealous.”
And he isn’t. Because Joe DiMaggio over there doesn’t have anything he wants. He’s not going to waste time being jealous of a guy getting half an hour with you when he has cats, and a home, and a life with you.
Finally, you look in his direction, but only because GP calls your name. “Can you come here?”
You give GP a thumbs up and excuse yourself, trotting over to Max without a second thought. Wannabe Tom Brady brazenly enjoys the view, and Max swears he hasn’t been that close to punching someone since Monza last year.
“What’s up?” You ask, slotting yourself between the two men as you lean back against the shelf.
GP hands you his phone. “Beat this Candy Crush level for me, would you? Been stuck for days,”
You look at him skeptically, but years of being filmed up close by cameras on the pit wall have given GP a hell of a poker face; he just stares back at you, and you give up with a huff.
“Men are hopeless,” you say with a roll of your eyes.
“Couldn’t agree more,” GP says, his eyes pointedly on Max, who can’t even defend himself.
Desperate to avoid GP’s scrutiny, he glances over at the gallery, only to find the Yank looking at him. Well, not him, you. He’s got that curious expression as he assesses you fiddling with GP’s phone, one that says he’s trying to understand if he has something to be worried about. He doesn’t. You’re not his to worry about.
“Here,” Max says, pulling off his cap. You barely look up at him before he puts his cap firmly on your head, holding it steady with one hand while pulling your ponytail through the hole at the back with the other.
The brim of the hat obscures half your face, and Max turns so that half your body is shielded by his, which he tells himself is in case a camera comes by.
“It’s sunny,” Max shrugs in his own defence, when he notices you looking at him with a raised eyebrow.
You adjust the cap on your head but don’t take it off. “Why don’t you just give me your letterman jacket?”
“My what?”
“Never mind,” you chuckle, shaking your head at him as you pat his chest with an indulgent smile.
He takes the opportunity at the sound of a large wheel gun to glance over at the gallery, only to meet the eyes of the guy you were talking to. Now that you’re no longer next to him, Max does sort of recognise him. He plays for some team named after an animal. Max just looks at him - he’ll do this all day if he has to - until the guy shoves his hands in his pockets and pulls out his phone, starting to tap away. Yeah, go back to Raya.
Good riddance, Max thinks to himself as he turns back to you, only to find that you already looking at him. He wonders for how long.
He can tell by your smirk that he’s been caught. If he’s honest with himself you caught him five years ago, this was just one of the few moments he let you know it. And you know it. How could you not know?
He thinks for a second that you’re going to tease him, but you don’t. You shift on your feet so that some of your weight rests against his arm, and go back to playing on GP’s phone.
“Go on, GP,” he says, fighting a smile at the large number 1 on the brim of what is now your hat.
He knows from the way GP is looking at him that he’ll get an earful about this later, but right now, he just clears his throat.
“Right, so,”
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Rich Part 21
Summary: Neighbour/Older!Harry. The truth is revealed and extenuating circumstances lead to y/n spilling the beans about her and Harry.
Warning: HELLA SMUT!! Daddy!kink, oral (f receiving), dirty talk (degradation and praise ofc), spanking, spitting kink, creampie, mentions of death (specifically a child) and grieving, poor mental health.
Word count: 17k+
Author's note: I recommend reading Part 20 before this one as it's a direct continuation! Part 22 already has 7k words written so I PROMISE you won't have to wait a month to read more of my babies. Enjoy 😚😚
- Find Series Masterlist Here -
- Find my General Masterlist here -
“Please… Daddy.”
“Good girl.”
His mouth slotted with yours like the final puzzle piece. Smooth and effortless, melting into you while his hand moved from your neck to grab onto your hair. He was simultaneously protecting your head from the door and tugging right at the root of your pretty hair.
The sting had you whimpering into his mouth, hands through his hair and over his chest and just everywhere while you reached up on your tippy toes to kiss back harder. You quite liked feeling smaller than him and Harry loved being bigger than you. Taller than you. Pressing his full body weight into you until all you could feel was him.
“I don’t… I don’t have much time.” You murmured into his mouth, gasping as the kiss broke and he let his mouth skirt over your jaw. You always did have a sensitive neck. It was a sweet spot for you and Harry knew that. At this point he had memorised all your erogenous zones and the little things he did that turned you on and considered himself an expert in how to take advantage of it.
He was always learning new things about you. Every day he found new details about you and fell deeper in love because of it.
“You do.” His smirk curled against your jaw and focused one hand on your hair to tug your head back while the other squeezed over your waist.
“I really don’t. My parents will see my car and wonder where I am. They’d be offended I saw you before them.”
“I think they’d be a little more than offended if they knew what you were doing here. Wouldn’t they, darling?”
Your gasp got caught in your throat, muffled by a moan when he bared his teeth against your neck. His mouth cushioned lower, tracing over what felt like every single inch of your bare skin.
“Probably.” You just hummed in response, letting your eyes flutter closed while you relaxed into the feeling of his soft, wet tongue over your neck.
“What would they say if they knew you called me Daddy, hm? Bet your mother would faint, wouldn’t she? Her darling little y/n.” Harry pulled away so you could watch the way his lips wrapped around each syllable. He pressed his hand over your throat again, keeping you pinned there as he undid the bow of your sweatpants. “Come on, baby. Tell me what she’d say.”
You didn’t think he’d want a response to that when it sounded so rhetorical. More like a tease than something he wanted you to respond back to.
“I don’t know. I don’t even want to-” the words got stuck in your throat when you felt his nimble fingers slide along the waistband of your sweatpants. He smirked at your reaction, scanning every inch of your face while languidly stroking your lower belly. “-to think about it. It's mortifying.”
His eye contact was making you want to pass the fuck out and when his fingers found the band of your underwear you nearly did. You had missed this. The cat and mouse game. The teasing. Though it usually took a lot longer than the time you had.
“It’s not mortifying when you’re doing it, though. Is it, baby?” He cocked his head, maintaining eye contact as he started to trace over your underwear down towards your clit. You shook your head quickly, grabbing onto his forearms.
“Words.” He warned.
“No. No it isn’t.”
“Feels quite… good. Doesn’t it?” He pressed right over your clit, rubbing purposed circles. The friction of your underwear was driving you crazy. But you wanted more and you were a little conscious of the time.
“You know it does.”
“I know.” He smirked, leaning in to kiss your neck again. “I make you feel good. Don’t I?”
The questions were making your head spin. “Yes… yes.”
The friction suddenly disappeared from your clit, but just as you were about to make a noise of disdain, his hands were hoisting your legs up around his waist and he was carrying you through the house to his dining room. He set you down on the edge of the table, reaching in to kiss you deeply just long enough to have you gasping and tugging at his hair.
The kiss broke and his mouth trailed down your neck again. You made a pretty little whimpering sound that had Harry smirking against your skin while he worked on removing your pants properly.
“I love when you do that…” he groaned, nimble fingers sliding along the waistband of your sweats, tucking into them and your underwear at the same time before very easily pulling them down under your ass until they fell to your ankles. The cool air hit your clit instantly, sending a chill down your spine and the tension of your legs that only increased when Harry continued to talk dirty to you. “When you whimper all pretty for me… ‘s my favourite thing in the world. Never takes long either. Could just kiss you and you’d moan for me. Isn’t that right?”
His question hung heavy in the hair but all you could focus on was the sight of him dropping to his knees before you to help guide your feet out of the bottom half of your clothing.
“Uhuh.” You agreed haphazardly, sweeping your hand through his hair at the first touch of his lips against your knee. He kissed down your calf until that ankle was out of your pants then switched sides to do the other, this time kissing up from your ankle to your knee to the sensitive skin of your thigh.
“Why don’t I give you something proper to moan about, hm? Would you like that, pretty girl?” Harry let his lips brush against your skin while his hands ran up and down your legs, running his thumbs over your knees like he was about to pry your legs open and dive right in.
Every touch had you breathing heavier, already getting worked up just from a few little kisses. It didn’t help that you were already on edge from his earlier teasing and knowing that things would get a little rougher than usual only made you needier.
Sex always was a bit rougher when ‘daddy’ came into play. Harry took on the role in full force and took full control of the scene. He usually spanked you more, grabbed you more, fucked you harder. Fuck… you hoped he’d spit in your mouth too, maybe smack his ringed fingers over your clit. You could ask for it of course and he’d happily oblige (with a bit of teasing and degradation to accompany your request of course), but it was so much hotter when he just did it. When he owned you and treated you like a hole to use.
“Yes.” You nodded eagerly, tugging his hair a little harder. He smirked and nipped at your thigh, grabbing your calves to pull you forward until your legs widened to fit him between them. Grabbing your face suddenly, he squeezed your cheeks roughly until you whined in pain.
“Where are your manners, huh? I thought I taught you better than that.” He tutted, maintaining eye contact while he spit suddenly on the fingers on his other hand before reaching between your bodies to find your clit. Harry didn’t want to stop looking at your pretty eyes for a single second. The moment he found your clit he tapped against it roughly, making your back arch at the repeated sting of his fingers. His saliva only made it hurt more and yet you found yourself loving every second of it.
“Shit.” You cursed, clutching onto his shoulders. The sting had your toes curling, knees dug into either side of his hips in an attempt to curb the ache. “Shit.”
“If you’re a good girl, y/n, you’ll get treated nicely. Don’t you know what happens if you’re not, hm?” He smirked, pressing his palm to your clit while sliding two fingers down through your labia. You were soaked, already dripping for him to do something. Anything. He circled his fingers over your entrance, pressing just enough to make that delicious whimper echo around his kitchen before he dragged them back up to your clit. “Or has it been that long since I put your attitude in check?”
Jesus fucking Christ.
Harry repeated the same movements, torturously dragging up and down… up and down from your clit to your entrance without doing anything remotely close to satisfying.
“‘M sorry. I’m sorry Daddy. I got… fuck” you cursed when he nudged over your clit again. It was just a game now, a sadistic little game to see how wet he could get you without actually giving much pleasure. “Excited.”
“Excited? Or selfish?” He cocked his head, grinding his palm to your clit while squeezing your face a little harder. “Being needy doesn’t give you an excuse to be ill mannered.”
“You’re right. I’m-I’m sorry. I’ll do anything. I’ll be good. I promise.” The words came out as a hushed whimper of strung together desperation. Harry was loving every second of it.
“Yeah? You wanna be a good girl for me?”
“Yes. Please, Daddy.”
“Gonna let me do anything I want?”
“Anything. Anything.”
His cock stirred at the thought of being able to do anything to you. To have complete control over you. Of course, you truly had the power in the situation, but he loved that you chose to let him take the reigns.
“Open your mouth.”
Harry slid his hand down to your jaw to give you space to move your mouth and as soon as you did, your lips parted just wide enough for him to spit right on your tongue. The sight was obscene. Your tongue sticking out to catch his saliva, his mark, his ownership. Your eyes were all glazed and pretty and you looked happy to take whatever he gave you. You were happy.
He just couldn’t help himself, really. Couldn’t stop himself from getting a taste of your pretty mouth. It would’ve felt wrong not. You were his girl after all. His love. Kissing you was part of the job.
Harry was quick to dart out and clasp his lips with yours, slipping his tongue into your mouth so he could rub his saliva over your tongue with his own. It was feral. Sloppy in the best way possible. He slid his tongue against yours, spreading his spit and the new saliva from your kiss everywhere.
You loved when he kissed you sloppy. When it was way too inappropriate for outside eyes. Something just for you. While his tongue told you exactly how he felt about you, he grabbed onto your hips and pulled you forward until you slid off the table, landing on your unsteady feet.
“Take this off, yeah? Let me see how pretty you are.” He murmured, breaking the kiss just enough to speak while tugging upwards at the end of your t shirt.
You quickly obeyed and ripped your t shirt off, letting it land on the floor without care. You didn’t bother putting a bra on when you left Lucy’s, not when you were just going home and seeing Harry quickly - or at least you thought it would be quick - so you were left bare. Now you were grateful that you decided to do that, especially from the dark-eyed reaction you gained from your bare breasts being exposed to your lover.
“Fuck baby. Got the prettiest tits ever.” Harry cursed, palming over your exposed breasts while he connected your mouths again.
Your hands found home in his hair, reciprocating happily to his enthusiastic kissing. It was such a power imbalance being completely naked while he was still fully clothed. The anxious part of you hated it and felt so… small. Exposed. The bigger part of you, the one that got off on being submissive and degraded frothed over it. There was no feeling like his fully clothed body against your fully bare one, other than skin to skin contact of course.
That was your favourite.
“Driving me fucking crazy like this.” Harry murmured again, keeping one hand on your breast while the other trailed upwards to the little pearl necklace permanently fixtured on your neck. You only took it off to shower, otherwise it never left your body. You couldn’t bare to part from it because it was a constant reminder of Harry. Like he was always with you.
And you happened to love how possessive he became when his eyes landed on the little string of pearls. How they darkened ever so slightly. When you were in public it turned into a kiss or his hand squeezing your hand or waist, like it triggered some obsessive reaction. You weren’t sure if he caught onto the fact that the necklace somehow pavloved physical touch, but you did.
Sometimes you liked to draw attention to it on purpose to tease him, not that he knew he was being teased. When you were talking you might brush your hair away from your neck or fiddle with the pearls to draw his eyes there. It was fun. A game you were winning even if he didn’t know he was participating.
“And this…” He hooked his finger into the necklace, tugging it gently while simultaneously tugging at your bottom lip, releasing it with a pop. “You’ve got no idea how sexy you look with nothing on but this.”
“I never take it off…” You sighed.
“I know. I love you more for it.” He mused, nipping on your neck. “If that’s even possible.” Your head lulled back when he ran his hands down over your body again, landing on your hips where he quickly spun you around to face the table and pressed himself against you. “Love how soft you are too…” He complimented, pressing spongey kisses along your shoulder.
You braced yourself against the table, letting yourself be pushed down flat against it by a gentle hand on the middle of your back.
“How you feel in my hands… my mouth…”
His mouth replaced his hand, trailing down until he was crouched behind you. God the sight of you was driving him crazy.
Running his hands over your ass, he pressed a kiss to one of your cheeks, dragging his bottom lip against your skin as he released before kissing over to your other cheek. Then he spread you wide, eliciting a gasp when he spanked you and groaned at the way your skin rippled then spread you open again.
“My tongue…”
And then you felt it. His hot tongue met your clit, swiping through your labia right to your tight ring of muscles where he decided to focus his attention. Harry was aware you two didn’t have all the time in the world, but he just couldn’t compromise on his favourite thing. Tasting you.
Your flavour, your scent, how wet you got. Like silky honey dripping down his throat and coating his lips. He was obsessed with it. Which is why he let himself a few moments of flicking his tongue against your ass before he moved down to one of his favourite parts of you. That pretty little clit.
Your moans were like music to his ears. An array of whimpers and whines, pleaded whispers of his name and his honorific. There was nothing like hearing the moan of his name, even moreso when he was being your ‘Daddy’. You were much more pliant, more responsive. He wasn’t sure if it was your submission kicking in more than usual or because your kink was being stroked the entire time.
Either way, he was reaping the benefits.
You were so hot and sweet and were wiggling like a fucking worm in his grip. He had to hold onto your hips harder to keep you still, but that didn’t stop your clenching and trembling when he sucked particularly hard on your clit or fucked his tongue inside you.
So fucking responsive.
“God, you taste so fucking sweet, baby. My favourite meal in the world.” He praised, wrapping his lips around your clit and sucking a little rougher than usual just so you’d cry out for him.
“Please. Please.” You begged, forehead pressed against the table.
“What?” Harry mused, sliding his tongue toward your entrance and pressing it there. You clenched on impact and he could feel it at the tip of his tongue. All he could think about now was getting inside you. God, he was so hard. So painfully hard.
“Need you. Please, Daddy. Need your cock so bad.” You begged clearly this time, needing to be filled more than anything.
“Yeah? Need it bad, do you?” Harry stood up, kissing your cheek on the way up before he was ridding himself of his clothing. He was already hot and worked up and he knew that the moment his cock touched you he’d be sweating all over. Besides… he wanted to feel you. He wanted to press his chest into your back and feel your thighs against his.
He craved the intimacy of skin to skin like nothing else.
“Yes. Fuck. Yes.” You sighed, nearly screaming in relief when you felt the tip of his cock bump against your clit.
“I’ll give it to you baby…” He soothed, dragging his tip through your folds to collect your wetness over his cock. “I’ve got you…” His tip pressed against your entrance and you swore you could’ve cried when he slowly pushed in. “Shit.”
“Fuck.”
He stretched you slowly, torturously, like he wanted you to feel every inch of his cock. Every vein and ridge and the way he got slowly wider at the base. It wasn’t something you’d feel when he was fucking you roughly, but God it was all you could feel now. The stretch, the ache, the way your knees buckled when his hand pressed into your lower back to keep you still.
And then the slow, tortuous teasing ended and without any warning he drew his hips back and slammed back into you in a way that had your lungs losing all their breath. His hands were firm on your hips, fingers dug tightly so there was this constant ache that seemed to reach its way straight to your soul.
And you fucking loved it. Every bruising thrust, every snapping sound, the way Harry moaned and cursed, telling you exactly how much he liked it. He never was shy from making sounds of pleasure and it was one of the things that made sex with him so hot.
“You’re so tight. Shit, baby. Always so fucking tight around me.”
“Oh God. Harry!”
“Wrong name, sweetheart.” He reprimanded with a heavy spank on your ass, the snapping sound echoing throughout the room. “Say the right one. Say it.”
“Daddy.” You moaned pathetically, earning another spank right on the other cheek. The sting was the most satisfying sort of burn, a pain that lingered and ached but only made everything so much better. It fuelled your pleasure, contributing to the orgasm you had been waiting for twice now.
It didn’t take long to reach it. Not when he had already teased you with his mouth and fingers and now was fucking you so damn good you could barely breathe. Harry didn’t stop once you rode through your orgasm, no, he took it as an opportunity to give you barely ten seconds of rest and flip you around so you were lying flat on the table. He was nestled back in you before you knew it, in a single fluid thrust that had you crying out from sheer sensitivity.
He didn’t seem to care, or he did but just liked to see the way the tears streamed down your face. And you were okay. He knew you were okay because he checked in with you in that ten seconds of rest, making sure you were green before he flipped you over to fuck you how he wanted.
And fuck. This was how he wanted you.
“You just take it so fucking well, don’t you sweetheart? Always squeeze around my cock so tight.” Harry uttered through gritted teeth, fingers achingly squeezed into your cheeks while his eyes remained glued to where you two were connected.
Harry always loved fucking you from behind. The heart shape of your ass, the way he could see all your pretty holes and how you clenched around him, the way he could get his cock inside you deeper than other positions… how he could grab your hips and fuck you hard, bruising your insides and out. He liked being able to spank your pretty ass and thumb at your tight ring of muscles and he especially liked spreading your cheeks and burying his face between them.
But nothing compared to watching your face. The way your eyes would roll back into your head, how they’d flutter and close when something felt especially good. The scrunch of your nose and furrow of your brow and the way your mouth would part in a whimper when something hurt a little too good. The way your jaw would clench and slack and how dazed your eyes got when he wrapped his hand around your throat.
He loved watching the effect he had on you. Your face showed him how good he was making you feel in a way your body didn’t and it became a little game to him on how to get you to make certain facial expressions.
Mostly though… he liked watching your eyes gloss over the harder he fucked you, the meaner he was. He loved to watch you slip into an ultimate state of submission and pleasure.
“Daddy…” You moaned, unable to come up with anything in reply to him. You were already too far gone.
“I know.” He sympathised. “Shit baby, you feel so fucking good. So good. Got the best pussy, you do.”
There was nothing like having a man moan for you. When they whimpered for you, praised you.
“Love your cock.” The words tumbled out without real thought, “feels so good. Always need it so bad.”
Shit. You didn’t talk dirty very often, not that Harry minded. He liked to watch your reactions when he uttered total filth. But Jesus… when you said anything remotely sexual like that, that you loved his cock? For a moment he feared he was going to prematurely cum before he made you finish for the second time.
“I love when you talk dirty to me, baby, but you’re gonna need to stop if you want me to keep fucking you.”
You let out a choked laugh at his words, loving how one small compliment had him stilling for a second to collect himself. You clenched on purpose, gasping with a smile when he pinched your cheeks a little harder.
“Spit in my mouth.”
Now you were just fucking with him. Through the haze of your pussy being completely destroyed by him, you still managed to tease him and be a fucking brat.
“God, you’re fucking filthy today.” He gritted, cocking his head while sliding his hand down your jaw to the top of your throat so he could tuck his thumb into your mouth. “Open up.”
Your lips parted instantly, earning a pleased ‘good girl’ in return that had you happy as anything. “Stick your tongue out.” Again, you followed his instruction instantly, whimpering when his fingers dug into the sides of your neck with purpose. “That’s it. Good girl.”
It all happened so fast. The praise. The hammering of his hips against yours. The woozy pleasure feeling clouding your brain like a drug. All of it. And then it happened. Harry collected the saliva in his mouth and spat it all over your tongue, watching with sick satisfaction as your saliva slid down to the back of your throat. He groaned loudly and leaned in to kiss you fiercely, picking up the pace against your hips in a way that had tears trailing down your face.
It was so good. So so fucking good. It felt like your whole body was on fire. Every square of your body was pressed against his and when he fucked you particularly hard, the dining table scraped across his gorgeous wooden flooring. Harry didn’t give two fucks about his scratched floors, if anything he liked the thought of always looking at a constant reminder that you were his.
“Can’t believe what a little slut you’re being tonight.” He grinned, palming over your breast and pinching your nipple until you cried out and arched against him. “You fucking love my spit, don’t you? That’s why you asked for it. Because you love being my filthy little slut.”
Filthy little slut. God you loved when he was a little mean to you. A lot mean sometimes too.
“Uhuh. Love it so much.” You nodded enthusiastically, well, as enthusiastically as you could after an orgasm and his cock so deep inside you, you swore you felt it in your throat.
“Yeah? Take some more than. Since you want it so fucking bad.” He spat into your mouth again, using two fingers to roughly spread it over your tongue. He pushed them back, laughing when you suddenly gagged around his fingertips. “Aw, poor baby can’t even handle my fingers, hm? How do you manage my cock then if you can’t even take two fingers down your throat?”
He grabbed your neck this time and pushed you back until you were lying down on the table before grabbing your ankles to hike them on your shoulder.
Yeah… a lot mean was fucking hot.
“Harry.” You protested, covering your face with both hands.
Your whole body was heating up from how mean he was being. Maybe even a little shy at how much you liked it. It shouldn’t have been a surprise anymore that you liked it, not when you two had so much practice with it. Yet you still found yourself getting nervous when he looked at you a certain way or said a certain thing. You rather liked it like that. You never wanted to lose the butterflies. The romance. The big pile of mush you turned into when he degraded you and used you.
“Don’t start being shy now, Angel. You know you like it.” He smirked, reaching forward to grab your hands from your face. He interlaced your fingers, drawing your hands down to rest on your belly so he could look at you. “Wanna look at you, baby. You’ve got the prettiest face. Look so gorgeous like this.”
Every word seemed to be egging you on, drawing you closer to the inevitable ecstasy that would flood through your core. The angle was so intense, so deep you knew that if he pressed on your belly, his cock would press through.
“Oh god. I’m… shit. I’m so close.” You moaned, squeezing his hands and digging your heels into his shoulders.
“Give it to me, baby. Tell me what you need.”
“My… my clit.”
Harry kept one hand intertwined with yours while the other moved down to your clit. He rubbed purposed circles over your bundle of nerves, delivering such perfect pressure it barely took a murmured ‘I love you’ for that wave of white hot pleasure to rush over you. His thrusts stilled at the feeling of you clenching around him and he was quick to widen your legs and fold over you so he could lazily slot your lips together.
With a curse and a pretty whimper into your mouth that had your head spinning, Harry thrust once, twice, three final times until you felt his hot cum fill you up. His body was so heavy over yours, your sticky bodies pressed and joined together. You wrapped your legs and arms around him, wanting to keep him as close as possible to you.
“God, that was so good.” He murmured, tucking his forehead into the crook of your neck.
“Agreed. I’ve missed that” you whispered, panting slightly as you ran your fingers through his hair.
“Me too. Fuck.” He propped himself up over you, pushing your hair back from your face. “Are you okay?”
You smiled and let out a small laugh, tipping your head up so you could kiss him. “I’m more than okay. Two orgasms equals a happy girl.”
“And what does three make you?” He grinned.
“An even happier girl, possibly a tired girl.” You smiled, reaching your arms above your head to arch your back in a stretch. He shook his head and stood back straight, scanning his eyes over the light sheen of sweat on your pretty skin.
“And you’re not tired now?” Harry raised his brow, looking down at your pussy to watch himself pull out. He did so slowly, careful not to hurt you and was completely mesmerised by the trail of cum that followed his cock.
“Fuck.” You whispered, feeling an ache when he fully pulled out of you. “Of course I’m tired. A little sore too. I think I’m gonna sleep like a baby tonight.”
“Mh. Me too. Wish we could sleep together.” He replied, eyes glued to his cum slowly dripping out of you. “I don't think I’ll ever get over how hot it is to see you like this.”
“Mmh.” You agreed, propping yourself up on your elbows to look at his cock covered in your cream. “I always thought creampies were overrated before you. Now… I love it.” Your eyes flickered back to Harry, who was already looking right at you with this dark look that made you want to climb all over him again. “I like feeling it later… even if it’s a little gross to sit in cold cum.”
Harry scrunched his nose up at that, “You could’ve made that so much sexier, y/n. Now when you go home I’ll be thinking of stale cum.”
“I didn’t call it stale! I said ‘cold’.”
“Like that’s any better?” He laughed, leaning in to kiss you. “I’ll grab you some water and a towel, okay? Stay here.”
“Like I’d go anywhere, I’ll drip stale cum all over your floor.” You shot back as he was already walking into his kitchen. You loved his ass. It was just so cute half the time you had this temptation to just whack it but you knew he’d hate it and probably retaliate ten times worse.
There was something so sexy about him walking around stark naked without a care in the world. He had such confidence in his body and himself that he really didn’t care. You weren’t as confident as he was in that department but being with him had definitely made you more confident in your skin.
“It’s already on my table, y/n. The floor won’t make much difference.”
You clenched up immediately at that comment, trying to stop more of his cum from dripping out of you. “Yeah… we’ve got to sanitise this. We eat here.” You scrunched your nose and sat up to look at the spot between your legs, finding his cum already dripped onto the table.
“Baby I’d sanitise the entire house if it meant I got to fuck you anywhere and everywhere.” He smirked, coming back with a big glass of water and a damp tea towel. He had already cleaned himself up and was quick to crouch down before you to clean you up as well. You didn’t get very nervous about the cleanup anymore. Harry had wiped you clean and taken care of you dozens of times.
“Thank you.” You smiled, grabbing the glass from where he had put it on the table beside you. “Your bed’s next. When we have more time.”
“I still can’t believe we haven’t christened my bed yet. It feels wrong.” He murmured, watching you
shakily bring the glass to your lips while he grabbed your underwear from the pile of clothes on the floor and dragged them up your legs.
“I know. I’ve missed your bed. It’s a lot comfier than mine, more space too.” You had this little mischievous grin playing on your lips, one that Harry found incredibly sexy.
You were still breathing a little heavily and managed to finish half the glass by the time you lifted your hips and Harry adjusted your underwear back in place. You attempted to set the glass down on the table beside you but before you could, he stood up and stopped you with a finger pushing the cup up towards you.
“Ah. All of it.” He tutted, looking at you expectedly until you brought the cup up to your mouth again. He maintained eye contact with you, one hand rubbing over your bare thigh while he kept a single finger underneath your glass. It was firm enough to tell you to keep drinking, but not enough so you wouldn’t be able to move the glass on your own. “Good girl… that’s it, drink all of it. Atta girl.”
You loved being fucked rough and dirty and since you two decided not to use condoms, your favourite thing was being pumped full of his cum, even more so when he degraded you when it happened. Like he just did barely two minutes ago. But there was something even better about the aftercare. His sweet tone, his commanding and caring nature as he got you water and a snack. All of it.
And the praise. Somehow it was so much sexier when you two were post-sex, even more so when it was casual. A nonchalant ‘good girl’ when you did something he asked or a loving ‘I’m so proud of you’ when you got a good grade or finished an assignment. His atta girl at finishing your water nearly made you drop to your shaky knees and get him nice and hard again with your mouth.
He said the words like they were nothing then moved on, not really caring that you were like a frozen deer at the first sign of praise. “I happen to like your bed. It’s cosy.”
“Yeah…” you breathed, “cosy and next to a thin wall where even adjusting in my bed can be heard by next door.”
“You don’t think they’d like hearing you call me ‘Daddy’?” He grinned, putting his sweatpants on and grabbing your t shirt to help put that on you too. You’ll definitely have to shower the second you walk into your house. There’s just no way you don’t smell like a sex club.
“No, I don’t think so.” You finished the very last sip of your water, making sure there wasn’t a single drop left in the glass. Once it was all gone, Harry grabbed it from you and placed it down on the table out of the way, tipping your head up with a gentle finger under your chin while his thumb rubbed over the leftover wetness around your mouth from your drink.
“Thank you.” You whispered, kissing his thumb.
Harry smiled softly and guided your mouth to his for a single, deep, core-clenching kiss. It felt like a kiss that was promising so much more and even though you just had your fill, literally, it didn’t make you any less insatiable for him. There was just something about Harry dominating… truly dominating that turned you into a horny little rabbit.
You wouldn’t be surprised if Harry called you that one day. It felt like the less you saw each other, the more insatiable you became. With the last couple of weeks being so busy, each time you’ve seen each other had been takeaway or a quick dinner and quick - but good - sex. You didn’t have proper time together and while fucking until the morning sounded and felt like a good idea in the moment, when you both woke up and Harry had his long commute to work or you had a day full of classes it became a regret.
Well, not a regret per se. You’d never regret sleeping with him. Ever. But you both complained about being tired the entire day to each other. More you than him since you loved to complain about everything and now Harry was fortunate enough to be the one to hear it all. It was worth it, but it was hard.
You couldn’t take every weekend, or even every second weekend off work to spend time with Harry because you needed money and he couldn’t ‘work from home’ to spend time with you. Driving so much took it out of both of you too so it was always easier if he stayed the night. Things would change once your parents knew and you had a bit more freedom… but you had a feeling they wouldn’t be totally happy with you spending nights with him instead of them.
And next door to top it all off.
Your anxious feelings didn’t help the situation either, but even with that little hiccup, you had missed time. Time where you two could just explore each other's bodies and try new things, go multiple rounds without the stress of your responsibilities. You had that before you two started dating so you knew that the changes to your sex life were mostly your fault. Or because of your situation.
If you lived closer things would be a lot easier. But that was also life and you two were figuring out what worked for you and now to manage it all. Ideally, once you were finished with university, maybe you two would move in with each other or at the very least you’d want to live much closer to him.
It was still so early into your relationship and you didn’t want to jump too far… but being full of his cum made your brain a little dizzy and romantic. Suddenly you were ready to forget your birth control and let him fuck a baby in you so you could be at home with him all the time. As a fantasy of course.
Which is why your post-sex horny brain took a few seconds longer to process the next words out of his mouth.
“Hey, um. I need to tell you something.” He whispered, forehead pressed against yours. He slid his hand along your cheek to cup your face, letting his fingertips comb through your hair a little.
“Hm?” you asked, brows furrowing when you read the nervous look in his eyes. Your stomach dropped suddenly and that anxious gut feeling felt more rampant than ever. “What is it?”
“I have to go back to London.”
“Oh, okay.” You were a little taken aback. Harry hadn’t mentioned any trips or work events or anything recently. The timing of it right after the phone call too felt a bit unnerving. You just hoped everything was okay. “When?”
“Just over a month.” He murmured, feeling that steady beat of anxiety claw at his throat. Harry hated that he had to ruin such a good moment, such a pleasurable, romantic experience to talk about this. He wasn’t sure how you’d react and it scared the hell out of him.
“Wow, that’s short notice.” You wrapped your arms around the back of his neck, threading your fingers casually into his hair. “Is it… family? Or work or?”
“Family. I…” he swallowed thickly, hugging his arms around you. “It’s my sister’s birthday. Everyone’s going to be there.”
“That’s great.” You smiled, relieved that it wasn’t something horrible. That he was okay. “That’ll be such a nice trip, Harry. Did you saw them last year when you went over?”
Harry didn’t speak about them a lot. He didn’t not speak about them and when they came up he always had something to say, but it also wasn’t a topic he brought up by himself. He spoke about his travels quite often, but even that topic hadn’t come up in a while. You were a little glad actually because you didn’t really want to think about him going away for so long. The thought of him in Italy looking all gorgeous and tanned without you made you violently ill.
Harry shook his head and sighed, running his hand through his hair. “I haven’t been completely honest with you about my family.”
And there it was.
“What do you mean?” You asked softly, trying not to jump to any conclusions. Whatever it was had to be deeply personal and you knew that.
After the very brief mention of his nephew passing, you two hadn’t spoken about it once. You wanted to ask but it never felt like the right time and after that phone call, the last thing you wanted to do was make him think you were pressuring him into talking.
And now to learn there was more…
“Well… you know how I told you about my nephew?” You nodded, “When he died… it was right around the time I was meant to move here. The timing was so fucked. My flight had been booked for months and it was scheduled for the week after the funeral. Everything was packed and ready to go and my job was due to start only a few days after I landed in Melbourne…”
“That must’ve been so hard, Harry. I can’t imagine having to leave everyone so close to his passing.”
“It gets worse, y/n.” He shook his head, looking down at the floor. “When Harry Jr died, it really fucked me up. I already wasn’t in the best mental state because of my ex, even if I thought I was fine, and I couldn’t handle it.” You weren’t exactly sure where he was going with it. It was clear he did something, but what? “Harry Jr was like my own kid. Him and Lola were everything to me but he was just… like my twin. Lola and I were close but it didn’t compare to the bond Harry and I had. Losing him was… the worst thing that has ever happened to me and as fucked as it was and still is, I couldn’t handle it.”
Harry was starting to get worked up. His words were becoming a little shaky and you could feel how tense he became. He was holding onto you so tight and yet he was avoiding looking at you. He was scared to hear how you were going to react and he was having a hard time finding the words to explain what he had done.
Practicing with Max did nothing to help. He had told people before and been faced with his actions for years so it wasn’t a new discussion to have. But telling you, the love of his life, how he betrayed and destroyed his family only to keep himself distanced because he was a coward was the hardest it had ever been.
“Everyone grieves differently, Harry. It would’ve been hard for everyone.” You tried to soothe, combing through his hair.
“I changed my flight to the day of the funeral.” He just went and said it, immediately feeling your fingers stop in his hair and how you seemed to pull your body back from his. You didn’t mean to do it, but you were a little shocked. “I spent days breaking down and feeling the most depressed I had ever been. The idea of going to that funeral and seeing the small coffin… I couldn’t do it.” He stepped back from you, running his hands through his hair. He was shaking, his throat aching with how hard he was willing away the tears. His eyes were stinging and he didn’t want to face you as he explained the rest of the story, even when you slipped off the table and whispered his name, stepping forward to place a gentle hand on his shoulder.
“I skipped the funeral without telling anyone and I flew here to start my new life.” He paused, swallowing thickly, “I left her, y/n. I left my only sister on the worst day of her life because I couldn’t handle it. She lost her son and I left. I left!” The words came out in an angry spit and his shoulders seemed to widen and slump forward like he was holding back immense rage. At himself. “We fought and she said she’d never forgive me again, fuck I can’t forgive myself. I don’t even want to.”
You were a little thrown off balance, to be honest. You never expected him to say any of that and to hide it from you for so long. But you couldn’t be upset either. He made a terrible mistake and you could see how badly it was eating him up. Harry was a proud person and very rarely doubted himself or his actions, yet you knew he was so ashamed in himself for what he did. It was hard to see.
“Harry…” You tried to get him to turn around with a little squeeze of his shoulder but he shrugged it off.
“My mum hated me, Gemma hated me, Andy hated me. Everyone hated me and I deserved it. I’ve skipped every Christmas since because I couldn’t face it and because I was a coward. I’m still a coward. I’ve sent letters and texts and tried to call her and I’ve never been able to see her face to face because I’m scared. I’ve never been able to push myself to that next step because I keep thinking it’s too late. That she’ll never forgive me.”
You could see how devastated he was about it and how angry he was at himself. And you understood it. He had spent nearly five years away from his family, beating himself up because of a huge mistake he made. And it was huge. You weren’t going to dispel that. You weren’t even sure that if you were in Gemma’s place, you’d ever get over something like that.
But Harry has also changed a lot. You imagined Harry Jr’s death changed him for the worse. Since the moment you met him, he always was a selfish, narcissistic person. It was never a secret that he lived his life for himself and cared about money and his job over anything else and maybe Harry Jr’s death had something to do with that. But since knowing him he’s made so many improvements to himself. He’s completely turned around to try and be an honest and good person.
The things he did for you and put himself through to protect you wouldn’t be done by just anyone. He had so much love in him and had proved that time and time again. He was attentive and caring and so generous. You were starting to think that he always was that person but was torturing himself for so long because of the mistakes he had made that it was easier to keep people at an arm's length.
After knowing him deeper though, you knew that his family meant a lot to him. He spoke to his mum at least twice a week and looked after her financially too. She was a young mum and had already been retired for nearly 10 years because of the way Harry invested his money and the success he had in all his different ventures. Being able to retire a parent when you’re barely 30 and live your own life in such an extravagant way is a massive achievement.
Which is why you were just so shocked he hadn’t visited Gemma in person yet to try and mend things. How did it take so long for him to finally make the decision to go back to the UK and mend things with her, at least you assumed that’s why he wanted to go to her birthday. You assumed the phone call with his mum had something to do with it too.
You weren’t really sure what to make of it or what to say. You loved him and were always going to love him and it hurt to know that he had been in a mental place so low and so far gone that he hurt his only sibling this badly. He was suffering with his own grief and unable to cope that badly that his sister, the mother of his nephew had to mourn the loss of her son and her brother all at the same time.
It was awful all around.
“Harry. Turn around, please.” You coaxed gently, giving his shoulder another little squeeze. He inhaled a shaky breath and slowly turned around, showing you his reddened eyes and puffy nose. “Come here.” You guided, grabbing his hand to pull him towards the couch so you two could sit and talk about it properly. He remained silent while you took his hands in yours, trying to find the right words to support him.
“What you did was wrong…” His expression seemed to fall even further, complete despair in his eyes. “But you don’t need me to tell you that.” You softened your expression, reaching up to cup his face in both hands. “You’ve been torturing yourself because of this for years and I get it. I can’t put myself in your shoes or even Gemma’s shoes because I don’t have siblings and I don’t have nieces or nephews but I understand loss and I understand family. Everyone grieves differently but the one constant in our lives is our family. I don’t think it’s too late to make up for it.”
“You don’t mean that.” He whispered, scanning your face. “Why don’t you hate me? I fucked up.”
“You did and I won’t excuse what you did. But you were in a horrible part of your life and yeah, the right thing to do was go to the funeral, but you made your choice and you’ve lived with the consequences already. You have changed and grown so much since we started dating, Harry, and I can see the difference it’s making in your life. All you can do now is try and show Gemma you’ve changed. That you’re better.”
Harry said nothing for a moment and swallowed the lump in his throat, “I’ve tried to go home to her for years and every time I get close, I see how happy they are without me and it stops me. There was one Summer I even made it to the front gate and saw Gemma and Lola through the window. They looked so happy. Lola was so big and Gemma looked at peace. I didn’t want to destroy that.”
“Don’t you think she’d be happier knowing she had her brother back?” You asked softly, dropping your hands from his face to grab his hands instead.
“I don’t know.” He admitted, “My mum has been trying to get me to go back for a long time, always trying to convince me that everyone missed me. That Gemma missed me. I never went because I was thinking about myself instead of her. It was easier for me to stay away than confront what I did. But I don’t want to do that anymore. I don’t want to be that person.”
He sounded so determined and he was. He always appreciated your honesty and you kept him accountable time and time again but you did it in a way that still supported him. You listened to him fully and offered support and advice. You didn’t act like he was a monster. He hoped that you felt like that on the inside too.
“Is that what the phone call was about? Her birthday?”
Harry nodded. “My mum has been hounding me about it for months. When the call happened I wasn’t ready to tell you because I was scared I’d lose you. Really fucking scared. I know it upset you, baby, and I’m so sorry.” He squeezed your hands, bringing them up to his mouth to kiss your knuckles. “I didn’t mean to lie. I didn’t want to. I hope I haven’t lost you because I was ashamed.”
“You haven’t.” You smiled, squeezing his hands. “You haven't. I was upset at the time, but I didn’t want to press you because you’re allowed to have things that are just yours... I knew you’d tell me when you were ready.” You reached up to cup his cheek, watching the way he nuzzled into your touch, eyes fluttering closed at the comfort he felt. “I don’t think you’re that person anymore, Harry. I think Gemma would appreciate the work you’ve put into yourself to become a better person.”
“You think so?” He whispered, scanning your face with his eyes.
You nodded. “I think it’ll take time. I honestly don’t know how things will work out because I don’t know her, but I know you and I know you’ll do everything you can to fix things with her. You’re her brother, Harry.”
“I love you,” Harry murmured, sliding his hand into the hair at the nape of your neck to draw you in for a kiss. This wasn’t the end of this conversation by any means. You had questions and you hoped that he’d be a lot more open about his family now. This was such an intense, deep-rooted issue. If he wanted to talk about it more, which you hoped he did, it wouldn’t happen in one night.
The kiss deepened ever so slightly, ending with a little run of his tongue against your bottom lip while he rested his forehead against yours. “Will you come with me?”
“What? Where? To London?” You blinked, a little surprised at his sudden request.
He nodded, tightening his hand in your hair just a little. It wasn’t to hurt you, just to feel you. “I don’t know if I can do it by myself. I want you there.”
“Harry-” you tried to interrupt, but it was like he felt your hesitation before you even said anything.
“I can show you my hometown, my house. You can meet my mum, maybe even Gemma. I just… I don’t want to leave you. I want you to come with me.”
This felt like something he needed to do by himself. It happened before he even knew you and was such an important step in his life. Family is family and it would almost feel like an intrusion to be there when he’d be sorting through so much history.
“Harry…” you sighed, leaning back. “I want nothing more than to support you but I have school. I don’t know if I can take time off and I’ve still got this trip planned at the end of the year with my friends. Money wise too… it’s a lot and it’s so soon.”
“You wouldn’t have to pay for a thing, y/n. I’d never let you do that.” His voice turned lower just a touch like he was almost reprimanding you for even suggesting he’d let you pay for a single thing. “And I think it might even align with your semester break, at least some of it anyway. Even if you flew in later and met me there? We could travel. I could take you to my house in Italy.” He was trying so hard to convince you but by the look on your face, it wasn’t working.
“It’s not just that, Harry.” You chuckled at his attempts to convince you, which actually were quite appealing. “I love you and the idea of Italy and seeing where you grew up is so… amazing but I think this is something you need to do by yourself. There is so much history there and so much you need to work through. I don’t know if it’s a good idea for me to go.”
“I want you to come.” He coaxed, pecking you quickly. God when he had that almost pouty look on his face and murmured so sweetly… you’d agree to anything. “You can do your own thing. You’ve always wanted to go to London. There’s so much to do and you can do whatever you want. As long as I get to see you at the end of the day, that’s all that matters. Have you in my bed every night.” Now the thought of that was extremely appealing. “Just think about it. Please.”
“I’ll think about it.” You compromised, smiling softly.
“Thank you.” He kissed you again before wrapping his arms around you to draw you into his chest. Both of you knew you had to head home, but it wasn’t the right time for you to leave. You couldn’t.
You spent the next hour or so just wrapped in his arms, then him wrapped in yours. He opened up a little more about Gemma and his extended family and he already seemed so much more open to speak about them. You could tell this was something that weighed heavy on him for a long time.
Archie made his way from outside at some point too, bringing in a trail of dust and leaves that broke the tension in the room and let you and Harry distract yourselves by bathing him. He had been running a muck outside the entire time, obsessively playing with a new toy Harry bought him. He was so engrossed in it, that he didn’t even know you came over.
That was probably a good idea since you and Harry spent a lot of your time together naked. You swear Archie had PTSD from Harry’s instruction to go to his bed.
It was late by the time you peeled yourself from Harry, not wanting to leave but knowing you had to. He didn’t want you to leave either but you promised to come over before you left in the morning. He was tempted to come home with you and you had a feeling he might drive back in his own car so he could spend the night with you, or even the day before driving back in the night.
It was times like these where you hated that your parents didn’t know about him. After learning everything, maybe it was time.
“Hey, baby.” Your mum greeted, hugging you the moment you walked into your kitchen.
“Hi.” You smiled, hugging her back. “Hey, Dad.”
“Hey, pumpkin.” He hugged you next, kissing your forehead before returning to the pot he was stirring on the stove.
“Sorry I took forever, I was catching up with Harry then Archie ended up dragging dirt through the house so I stayed to help him clean up.” You explained, hoping she bought the excuse. There was this expression on her face that just told you she didn’t believe you, but she didn’t say anything about it so you decided to leave it and not say too much. Otherwise, she’d really know something was up if you started waffling.
“It’s nice you two have stayed so close.” There was something about the way she focused on the word ‘close’, but she had a glass of wine in hand and always liked to read into things when she got a bit tipsy. You hoped you were just being a little paranoid. “You think he’ll give you your job back over your semester break?”
“Oh, I don’t know. I might just plan my shifts at the cafe so I can be here for a couple of days then at mine for a couple of days. I don’t want to cut my shifts at the cafe completely.”
“Mh.” She agreed, “think about it. You know I like having you around.”
“I know. I like being here too.” You smiled, “I’m going to shower and get changed quickly. I’ll be right back.”
“Alright. Don’t be too long.” She called after you.
“I won’t!”
The night continued as it always did. Dinner, a glass of wine, an update on your week of uni and your night out with your friends (sans Harry, of course). Then Dad went to his office to do some quotes and your mum and you wound up on the couch watching The Real Housewives. Another couple glasses of wine was involved, but it was a Saturday night and you had nowhere to be tomorrow except home.
Perfect.
Until your mum paused the show while you got up to get a snack and when you returned, she had no plans of playing it again. She had this look on her face, like she was getting ready to announce something really big or ask you an invasive question.
It was the latter.
“Are you okay?” You asked, landing on the couch with a heavy seat. The wine slowly infused in your body, making you feel like a heavy lump of bones. You were getting to the point where one more sip of wine would knock you out and your pillow was calling your name.
“I need to ask you something.” She shifted on the couch, sitting cross legged while facing you. She still had her glass of wine in hand, eyeing it like she had a nervous tick.
“Okay…” you looked at her a little funny, taking a sip of wine.
“Are you sleeping with Harry?” At her words, your eyes widened and the wine suddenly travelled down the wrong hole. You coughed repeatedly and Mum was quick to lean forward to tap your back until your coughing subsided. “Our neighbour, Harry.”
“Thanks for the clarification, Mum, but I only know one Harry.” You coughed, rubbing the sore spot over your chest. “Why are you asking me this?”
“Just answer the question. Is it true?”
Shit. What were you even meant to do? You didn’t want to lie about it because the truth would always come out, but you also weren’t ready to talk about it. You had this whole speech planned and all these things you wanted to say when you brought it up to her and now that she was the one asking you about it, there was nothing in your head.
You felt bombarded by it. But maybe it was better to tell her first before your dad found out. At least this way you could explain everything and diffuse any worries so when he found out, your mum would be on your side. And you knew she would be. Or hopeful at best. Maybe not at first, but all she wanted was your happiness and if Harry made you happy, she’d support you with it.
Your parents had always told you that they didn’t care what you did with your life as long as you were happy, healthy and safe. They’d support you if it truly was what you wanted. When they said that they were talking about work, not dating your neighbour, but it still applied.
It would be a shock to them and you knew that, but no one was getting hurt and you were happier than you had ever been. You knew they’d understand. Eventually anyway.
“Um…” you trailed off, looking away briefly. “Yes? But we’re not sleeping together, we’re… we’re dating.” Even though you could tell she wasn’t surprised, the look of pure disappointment on her face expressed exactly how she felt. She didn’t want you to say yes. “I was going to tell you.” You jumped in again before she replied, wanting to get as much out as possible before she gave her opinion. “I swear. I wanted to tell you and Dad both at the same time so you two wouldn’t get all weird with each other if one of you knew first.”
“Oh god, y/n!” Mum pinched the bridge of her nose. She took a heavy sip of wine before continuing like it would somehow make the news easier to bear. “I had a feeling you were going to say that. I prayed that you weren’t and yet here we are.”
“You knew? How?”
“I didn’t know, but I kind of worked it out. You've been a little giddier than usual. Always looking at your phone and you’re always going over there when you come to visit. He's been different too. Less broody and secretive and he's been getting a dogsitter for Archie for a lot more overnights than usual. Mother’s know these things, y/n. So… explain. How did it start?”
Was it seriously that obvious? When she put it like that, it kind of was obvious that you were seeing someone. She wasn't particularly upset by it, but her tone wasn't overly jovial either. She was calm. Calm was good.
Though it could've been the wine making her more relaxed.
“I guess we kind of got closer as I dogsat Archie. We’d always talk for ages and we had that weekly dinner, which you knew about. Then one day… I don’t know. Things changed.” You averted eye contact, feeling a blush graze your cheeks at the memory of the first time you two slept together.
“You were sleeping together?” You nodded silently, knowing that she’d be able to tell if you were lying. “When?”
“What?”
“When was the first time?”
“Mum.” You protested, “you don’t need to know that.”
“I do, actually because now that I know it happened, I need to know when it started.”
“Yes but-”
“So when was the first time, y/n?”
You clearly weren't getting out of this one.
“...A few weeks before his birthday, I guess.”
“A few weeks before his birthday.” She repeated to herself, “so you were dogsitting for him and having dinner with him for weeks and what? You two were just sleeping together each time just like that? All those times you came home ‘late’, you were sleeping with him? Right next door? Have you slept with him here?”
“Mum, stop!” You whined, hating how she seemed to be spiralling about the fact you had sex.
Her questions were practically spitfire and if you didn't stop her now, she'd continue and her questions would get way more invasive. She always was like that when she drank. Nosy and more brazen than usual. Dad always said it was because she was pretty that she got away with the way she ran her mouth when she drank.
Mum was harmless, but God if there was even a smidge of a secret hanging around she'd find out and talk about it to anyone and everyone.
She knew you weren’t a virgin and while you didn’t share every detail of your sex life, she knew you had slept with a couple of guys. You were always open and honest with her to an extent because you valued her advice, especially when your heart got involved and you ended up getting hurt. But right now you didn’t want to hear her fears or her spiralling bout the fact you had sex next door when you knew she and Dad had sex only two rooms away from you. If it were up to her, she’d know every detail about every aspect of your life.
You understood it to an extent and you practically did share everything with her. But seriously. Boundaries.
“I love you but it’s none of your business. I don’t ask when you and dad have sex because that’s disgusting so don’t ask me!”
“Fine. Fine. You’re right.” She let out an exasperated sigh and rolled her eyes, “Just tell me you’re still on birth control and we can move on.”
“Yes. I am.”
“Good because I swear to God, y/n, if you come home pregnant...”
“Mum!”
“I had to say it, okay? It’s my job as a mother. Now continue.”
“It wasn’t serious at first and neither-” you paused to give her a warning glance when it looked like she was going to make another comment about your sex life. She only rolled her eyes and sipped her wine again, attentively listening to you talk, “neither of us wanted a relationship and I always said to you too that it didn’t interest me but he somehow managed to change my mind about it all. He didn't mean to and he was further away from commitment than I was... but the longer it went on, the more we realised that it was more than just casual." You let out a sigh, "I didn’t want to like him mum, I didn’t. There were problems and he had problems and I knew it was stupid to fall for someone who lived his whole life single and selfish but things changed and kept changing. He changed.”
The whole time you spoke, she actively listened. She didn’t try to interrupt or even make any weird noises of indignation that your dad definitely would. She just listened and processed it. You appreciated that.
“It wasn’t an easy beginning to our relationship because we had a lot of differences and he… he hurt me really bad. I almost told you back then too because he broke my heart. Really bad.” Your voice broke slightly, feeling that same break in your heart that you did at the very beginning.
“Y/n.” She soothed, placing her hand on yours over your knee. “You could’ve told me back then, y’know. I would’ve been there for you. I'm a little hurt you didn't trust me enough to come talk to me about this.”
“It's not about trust, mum. You know I trust you. Everything was just so complicated and I didn’t want to talk about it. I didn’t really think we’d get back together, anyway, so I didn’t want to start something and have you storm to his house to tell him off for no reason when I thought it was over.”
“I would’ve done that. I can still do that for you, if you want?” She smiled, sipping her wine again.
“No, don't," You rolled your eyes, laughing softly. “We worked things out and… well we never looked back. Before we ended our casual relationship so badly, Harry was really complicated and secretive and God sometimes I wanted to strangle him. But when we got back together… he changed everything for me, mum. He worked on himself and is still working on himself and honestly, I’m probably the happiest I’ve ever been. He treats me so so well and he spoils me and loves me everyday and-”
“He loves you?” She interrupted, “as in you loves you.”
You nodded.
“And you love him back?”
You took an extra moment to respond to her, not really sure where she was going with her comments. “I do. I know I do.”
“y/n…” She sighed. You could feel the change in the air. How her active listening turned to disappointment and a hope that your relationship would end before it properly started. “I honestly thought that you were just dating and having fun and he was buying you nice things, but love? I have no doubt you feel that way towards him but isn’t it too soon?”
“I just know, mum. I had no control over it and I never meant for it to happen but it did and… and I’m happy. I’m so happy with him and even with the distance and everything else, we’re making it work.”
“But how? He’s not too much younger than your dad and I and he’s got no kids, has never been married? Everyone knows he’s had his fun and sleeps with whoever he wants, what’s to say he doesn’t still want that? And then there’s the opposite. What if he’s finally done with being a bachelor and wants to settle and have kids before he gets too old? Is that what you want? Because I know it’s not.” She gave you this look and crossed her arms over her chest, like she already knew what your answer would be.
She seemed to know all your answers tonight.
“Of course I don’t want that. Not now anyway. But he doesn’t want that and he doesn’t want to sleep around either.”
“So you two haven’t spoken about settling down?” She fired back, already knowing that you had. Your mum was the best reader of people and relationships, probably because she stuck her nose in everyone's business and knew all the ways they failed.
“I mean we have but not for now. Like… just so we both know that this isn’t a short term kind of thing.”
“Y/n, baby. You are so young. So young and gorgeous and smart.” She soothed, leaning forward to cup your face and run her hands over your hair. “You have your whole life in front of you and the whole world at your fingertips. Why are you settling down with someone who’s already experienced everything? Would you not rather explore the world with someone who hasn’t seen it over and over again?”
“Mum, I can still do everything I want to do when I’m with him." You exasperated, brushing her hands off you. "I can travel and work overseas if I want and I still see my friends and do everything normal. Being in a relationship doesn’t stop that and if anything, Harry’s position makes it easier. He’s stable financially and is happy to slow down and do what I want. It’s not that he doesn’t get a say, but he’s got the freedom and wants to experience everything with me. It may not seem like it, but he’s got a lot of firsts too, mum. Trust me, I’ve thought about it all.”
“Look, I don’t know him very well.” She sighed, settling back against the couch. “He’s been living next door for nearly five years and I couldn’t even tell you what footy team he supports, but he’s always been polite and charming. All I can do is go off that and what you tell me and if you’re telling me you’re happy then… I guess I’m happy too. I just don’t want you to get hurt, y/n. By anyone.”
“I know. I don’t want that either but I promise you’ll love him like I do. You’ll see why he means so much to me. You and dad.” You smiled, reaching for her hand and giving it a squeeze.
“I hope so.” She smiled back, squeezing your hand in return. “So tell me more. Tell me everything.”
The next few hours were spent practically debriefing your entire relationship. You kept the bigger problems private as she simply wouldn’t understand the Ethan situation, but you told her everything else you two had been through. If it had something to do with Ethan, you twisted the story a little but for the most part, it was an amazing chat.
You loved your mum more than anything and to actually sit there and talk about Harry so freely and honestly and have her engage properly was the best feeling ever. She freely gave advice (even when you didn’t want it) but you were happy with that. You didn’t have a lot of boy problems so actually having someone to talk about with her was everything to you. It made you hopeful for the future of your relationship with Harry and took so much weight off your shoulders.
It was liberating.
“Oh god…” mum wheezed, her laughter coming to a stop as she finished off her final glass of wine for the evening. “I’m too drunk right now but in the morning we’ll brainstorm how to get back at chatty Cathy across the road. She can never ever keep her mouth shut. That woman.”
“What? What are you talking about?” Your brows furrowed and that happy, calm energy you had somehow dissipated into thin air.
“Tracey? The only reason I asked you if you were seeing Harry was because Tracey’s been hinting at it for weeks. I thought I told you.”
“No… you didn’t.”
Your mind was suddenly twisting and turning. After everything you had been through with her and Ethan and even just the shit between you and Harry, she still wouldn’t leave you alone. You had done nothing to her and left her alone since you moved out for school and yet she still had to run her mouth off about you? You just didn’t get it.
Harry had recordings over her admitting to lying to you and you had photos of her cheating and she knew that and still decided to try and get some attention her way? Nope. Not on your fucking watch.
You were over it. You were over being the target of people who you had nothing to do with. Who only wanted to use you to get money or for some other stupid fucking reason that meant nothing in real life. You were done. So if she was going to run her big fat mouth about you, then you were going to do it right back and you were going to hit her where it hurt the most. Her family.
//
It was only a couple of days later when the truth came out. You weren’t trying to hide it from Harry but it also wasn’t exactly a conversation you wanted to have over the phone. He got called into work for some client emergency on Sunday which ruined his plan to come spend the day and/or night with you. Then neither of you could see the other until Tuesday as he planned to work from home on Wednesday.
You were glad that his quiet days seemed to align with yours because it meant you could spend more time together. Even if you were both busy working or doing uni work, just being in his presence was enough to make you happy. And now that your mum knew about you two… it was only a matter of time before you could start spending nights at his house too.
“Baby?” You heard Harry’s voice echo through your apartment, easily being heard in the shower due to your thin walls.
“In here.” You yelled back, scrubbing your nails through your scalp to rinse out the remaining conditioner. Harry accidentally went home with your keypass after going on his morning run the last time he stayed over. He kept it in his shorts pocket so he wouldn’t wake you and it wound up in his bags somehow, hence his ability to enter your place without you needing to go downstairs and get him. He wasn’t really meant to have them, but it was only for a couple of days and Maeve had your spares so you could still get in and out easily.
“Can I come in?” He asked a moment later, knocking on the bathroom door.
“Yeah.”
Wordlessly, he opened the door and let himself in, scanning your naked body from head to toe. You were facing the wall with your eyes closed, head tilted back so the water was streaming down your hair. Gorgeous. He had been craving you all day. It was just one of those days where it was shit after shit and all he wanted to do was crawl into bed with you and just be wrapped in your arms.
“Can I join you?” Harry asked softly, itching to jump in the hot water with you. He was already loosening his tie. Before entering your bathroom he took off his jacket and shoes so he was ready to let the rest of his clothes fall to the ground without care. You always had showers extremely hot and now that the weather was cooling down, Harry quite liked the sauna it left behind in the bathroom. He didn’t particularly enjoy it when it was 30° outside but he never let that stop him from getting in a shower with you.
“Of course, you can.” You smiled, still facing away from him. You always felt a little vulnerable being in a shower with him. Even though he had seen your body plenty of times, there was still something so sacred and personal about getting clean. You were glad you had already washed yourself before he came in because the last thing you needed him to see was you plucking out one of your long hairs from your underarms or ass.
“I wasn’t sure what time you’d be here.” You hummed, feeling the slide of his cold bare hands along your hips as he joined you in the shower.
“Yeah, I had to work late. ‘M sorry to keep you waiting.” He murmured, kissing your shoulder while wrapping his arms fully around you. You sighed into the touch, tilting your head back to welcome the feeling of his body around yours. He snuggled against you, proper bear-hugging you while digging his forehead into the crook of your neck.
“It’s okay. Maeve dragged me to a late Pilates class so I had to wash my hair. I swear I sweat like two litres every time.” You laughed softly, “I would’ve waited for you. I like being at the door to greet you.”
“I like having you greet me too.” He kissed your neck softly, “did you have fun at Pilates? I haven’t been for a while.”
“I liked it. It was a beginner class so no handstands or anything like you do but I’m sore already. ” You teased, turning around slowly to face him. He kept your body close, immediately kissing you once your faces were in line. “We should go together sometime. I’ve been trying to get Jay to go but he keeps blowing me off.” You offered, immediately sensing that something was off with him.
“I’d like that.” He murmured, pressing his lips against yours again. Harry was craving your comfort. He didn’t want to start anything or get too riled up, he just loved the warmth that spread through his chest when his mouth melted into yours. It could be a peck, a pash, a full snogging session. It didn’t matter.
You combed your fingers through his hair, pushing it away from his face. “How was your day?”
“Shit. Just one of those days, y’know.” Harry replied, pressing your foreheads together before kissing you again. “I missed you.”
“I missed you too. Do you want to talk about it?” You slowly eased your bodies around so he was facing the water instead of you. He shook his head and let his eyes flutter closed as the hot water streamed over his head. You pushed his hair back from his face, kissing his chest. “Okay.” When Harry wanted to talk he’d willingly do so, so you weren’t going to push him. Sometimes work was just shit and you got that. He’d probably talk about it later once he decompressed and relaxed. “You want me to wash your hair?”
A smile grew on his face at your offer and he tipped his head down to look at you. Harry loved having his hair played with and his scalp scratched. He was like a cat. Sometimes he’d just lay there with his head on your lap for hours while you played with his hair. You first found it out during sex because he liked the pain, especially when his head was between your thighs so it only made sense he’d like it out of the bedroom too.
“You sure?”
You nodded and reached up on your tippy toes to kiss him. “Turn around.”
He pecked your mouth gently as a thank you then turned around to face the water. Wordlessly, you grabbed your shampoo and squeezed some onto your hands, rubbing them together to emulsify before you brought them to his scalp.
Harry moaned as you massaged his scalp, using your nails to scratch as you went. “That feels good.”
“Good.” You hummed, happy to look at the expanse of his back. His back muscles were incredible.
It sometimes amazed you how fit he was, but with his daily runs and intense personal training sessions he somehow managed to squeeze into his routine, it really was no wonder that he looked the way he did. He worked his ass off to be as fit as he was and to stay that way and it all paid off because his physique was better than any boy your age.
You joined him in a personal training session once and you had no doubt any of the boys you had been with in the past would fail halfway through. Would you say you participated in said session? No. You were lugged over his shoulders so he could use your weight to do squats though.
“Are we okay?” Harry asked suddenly, voice soft.
“Of course we are.” You replied instantly. “Why wouldn’t we be?” You continued rubbing circles on his scalp, massaging him to make it more pleasurable and relaxing. Your arms were already starting to ache a little, but it was worth it.
“I’m just making sure.”
“I love you, Harry. Nothing will change that.” You murmured, running your hands down from his scalp to massage his neck and over his shoulder. He echoed the sentiment, voice just audible over the water as your lips created the trail for your hands to follow; over his neck and the expanse of his shoulders, down to the middle of his back and as low as you could go without bending.
The tension was slowly leaving his body. Tense muscles melting and relaxing, his tense shoulders slumping until he was heavy on his feet. He was completely pliant to your touch and you couldn’t wait to wrap your arms around him and cuddle in bed. Part of you even wanted to skip dinner and head straight to bed.
“Rinse it, H.” You whispered, kissing a little freckle on his back before pulling back to give him space to turn around. He started scrubbing the shampoo out while you prepared his conditioner, rubbing it through your hands so it covered all your fingers.
“Y’know something interesting did happen today. It was quite a spectacle in the neighbourhood.” Harry mused, already feeling better just by your touch and loving words. He stayed facing towards you to catch your reaction, which was as easy to read as ever.
“What?” You froze for a split second while reaching to thread the conditioner through his hair, already knowing exactly what he was talking about.
“Tracey was kicked out. Unfortunately I was already on my way to work but she was crying so loud everyone on the street was watching. Apparently, he found out she was cheating on him. You know anything about that?” He had this look of knowing on his face and it was like he knew that you had something to do with it.
Shit.
“About that…” you smiled sheepishly, putting your hands down to let the conditioner sit in his hair.
“I knew it!” He accused, laughing while squeezing your hips. “What did you do?”
“Okay, but you can’t be mad.” You laughed, poking his chest. “I was going to tell you tonight, okay?”
��Mad? Why would I be mad?” His brows knitted together, “I’m sure whatever you did had good reasoning behind it.”
“Well, yeah she’s a cunt but it’s not that.” Harry laughed loudly at your comment and you could feel his mood being lifted like steam dissipating in the air. You had such a fucking mouth on you sometimes. He loved it. “When I got home after we had that talk, everything was normal until my mum and I were watching TV after dinner. She said she had to talk about something and then just flat-out asked me if you and I were sleeping together! Like it was nothing.”
“Shit.” His eyes widened, “And what did you tell her?”
“I told her the… truth.” You were a little nervous to tell him. A lot nervous actually. You knew he was ready to tell your parents whenever you were, but it felt wrong to have that conversation without him. But you couldn’t exactly call him or go over to his house after he just told you about his nephew. That would’ve been all sorts of fucked. Your mum knowing about you two dating meant nothing compared to what he was going through.
“You did?”
“Yes. I’m really sorry.” You rushed out. “I wanted you to know when I was going to do it but I couldn’t lie to her when she was straight out asking me the question.”
“And you thought I’d be mad?” He scoffed, laughing softly while tucking your hair behind your ear. “Baby, the only way I’d be mad is if you were pressured into doing something you weren’t ready for. Were you okay having that conversation with her? I know… I know you weren’t ready to tell your parents yet.”
“Harry she asked me because Tracey was talking shit. After everything, everything we went through and all the fucked up shit she did and she still can’t leave me alone. I’ve done nothing to her.”
That manipulative cunt.
Harry didn’t like to use that word very often. Other than the obvious use when he was trying to degrade you. But there was simply no other word in the English language that summed up who Tracey was. Desperate? Yes. Annoying? Just the sound of her breathing had Harry gritting his teeth. But the only word that truly encompassed everything about her was cunt.
He had no idea that her being kicked out was because she was causing problems again. He assumed it had something to do with you because you were cheeky and sneaky at times, but he didn’t expect this. After everything that happened, he thought you guys were done with her.
“What the fuck? Fucking hell, y/n. Why didn’t you tell me?” He was getting a little frustrated at you now and you could see it in his expression. You just grabbed his hair and tilted his hair back, forcing his hair back under the water to rinse the conditioner out. Even though he was annoyed you didn’t tell him, he was still pliant to your touch and it took very minimal effort to maneuver his head.
“Because we just spoke about your family and my drama literally doesn’t matter compared to what you’re going through. I didn’t want to bother you and then I didn’t want to tell you over the phone.”
“Of course it matters.” He scoffed, “You shouldn’t have to deal with this shit by yourself. I thought she was dealt with, but clearly not. How long have you known?”
“I found out when my mum asked me about us. I had no idea anything was happening before that.”
“So… what? Tracey’s been running her mouth?”
“Basically.” You sighed, still running your fingers through his hair to get rid of the last bits of conditioner. “She hasn’t said anything directly, but she’s been making comments and saying random things that makes people think that we’re sleeping together. At least that’s what my mum said.”
“I don’t get why she’s doing this.” He sighed, “You’ve moved out and we’ve left her alone after everything that happened. She’s got no reason to come after us again.”
“Like I said, she’s a cunt.” Your words came out matter-of-factly, eliciting a roll of Harry’s eyes. “She’s probably bored and thinks that it’s easy to use me to have her fun because I’m not there to defend myself.”
“Bullshit. I’m there to defend you. Why isn’t she scared of me?” Harry scoffed, eliciting a laugh in response.
“Harry she’s obsessed with you and even if you blackmailed her and stomped all over her old wrinkly heart, she still wants you.”
“I didn’t stomp over anything. And I’m taking your old wrinkly statement as an insult.”
“Yeah right. You love being the ripe age of 39. ‘I get sexier with age, y/n’.” You quoted, attempting to mimic his low raspy accent. He raised a brow and immediately went for your sensitive spots, squeezing your waist with light twinkling fingers in an attempt to tickle you. “Stop!” You squealed, hitting his hands away. “Stop it Harry!”
“Admit I get sexier as I age. Admit it.” He threw back, wrapping one arm around your waist while using the other to tickle you.
“I hate you!” You tried to push his hand off, laughing and wiggling and squealing all at the same time. It didn’t help that you two were still very much naked. “Whatever. You’re sexier as you age.”
The tickling stopped instantly and Harry had this smug grin on his face, happy that he beat you. “Thank you.”
“You’re a child.” You rolled your eyes.
“Come on. Finish the story.” He laughed softly, looping his arms around your waist.
“I don’t even know what I was up to before your ego got bruised.”
He chose to ignore that statement. “You were explaining how obsessed Tracey is with me.”
“Oh, right. She’s obsessed with you so obviously she won’t be scared and she’s not threatened by me. She really didn’t think that I’d retaliate in any way even if I told her I would and now look at her. I think I handled it pretty fucking perfectly.” You announced proudly.
It felt a little evil to be so happy over someone elses pain. You had ruined Tracey’s life and yet you were satisfied. It felt justified. In the beginning you never wanted to use your threats against her. You just wanted to be left alone, even if that meant sitting on evidence that she was having an affair. Now though… you felt worse about keeping it a secret than using it to get back at her.
“I’d say so.” Harry laughed. “How did it all happen?”
“She goes to pilates on Sundays so I waited until she was gone and went over to speak with Oscar. All I did was tell the truth and show him one of the photos of her and Ethan. I felt really bad for him, actually. He believed me even before I showed him a photo but he still wanted to see it, probably for proof so he doesn’t have to pay her out.”
“Well shit.” Harry laughed, quickly turning you both around so you got some of the hot water. “He clearly didn’t take it well.”
You shook your head. “No. I could tell he was trying not to cry. I feel like I should’ve told him earlier.” You looked away for a moment, “it feels wrong to use one persons tragedy to get back at someone else. Like this is probably the worst thing to ever happen to him and I used it to get back at her. He doesn’t deserve that. Neither do his kids.”
“I know. The truth had to come out some way, though. It always does. Don’t blame yourself too much for it just because you benefited from it in some way. ” He grabbed your chin gently, guiding you to look back at him. “How did your mum react when you told her about us, anyway?”
You were glad he was switching back to your mum because you really didn’t want to dwell to much on Tracey of all people. Or the shittiness you felt.
“She already knew before Tracey started talking about us. She had this look on her face like she was waiting for me to outright say it.”
“Wow. Really?”
“Yeah… she said it was mother’s intuition or whatever. I’m surprised she waited this long to say something about it, to be honest. She usually can’t keep her mouth shut and she already had a glass of wine when we spoke about it.”
Harry smiled at your comment, smoothing his hands over your back. “Was she upset about it? What did she say?”
“We spoke about it for a long time. She wasn’t upset but not thrilled either. I told her how happy I am and a little bit about our relationship so far and she seemed happy that it’s going well, but she’s still worried. I think she’s worried about the age gap and… well, your reputation. She doesn’t want me to get hurt.”
You didn’t really want to go through the entire conversation with him. Nothing bad happened but it also felt like something that just you and your mum needed to know about. She gave you a lot of advice that made you feel lucky to have someone like her in your life. She was concerned but she actually listened to you, even when the conversation went a little wild, she listened to you and shared her own opinion as well. It went as well as you could’ve hoped.
“My reputation as in…”
“Your one night stands. Obviously, I assured her that she didn’t have to worry about it. She thinks you’re charming but I think that also scares her. You’re the first real relationship I’ve had and it’s not exactly conventional and… I don’t know.” You sighed, looking away for a moment, “She said that she hoped my first love would be someone my age, that I’d date more before feeling so strongly about someone.”
Harry didn’t like the sound of that. So far, your mum’s concerns were valid ones and ones he expected. He never thought it would be easy or something your parents would understand right away and he prepared himself for that. They weren’t much older than him so navigating his relationship with them and you would take time.
But he didn’t like the way those words came out of your mouth. That your mum hoped your first love was someone else and that you had more experience with other people before settling down. You two weren’t exactly planning for a baby or anything, it had barely been four months, and neither of you put any expectations on your relationship. You were young and he never imagined himself as the marrying type so you both just wanted to date and love each other and see how things evolved.
But you were still in it for the long haul with each other. This wasn’t a short term arrangement or something casual. You two loved each other.
For Harry, he had already experienced heartbreak in all forms and he had grown from that. The Harry that survived his very first love was a completely different person to now. It wasn’t the only thing that shaped him to be the man he was today, but it contributed a lot to his life. He was at a point in his life now where meeting you and falling in love with you had completely changed how he thought his life would go.
He wanted to settle down with you. He couldn’t picture a future without you in it and you made it very clear that you loved him more than anything and you wanted to have that future with him.
But you didn’t have what Harry had. You didn’t have years of making mistakes and meeting people and exploring yourself. Of figuring out who you are and what you want in life. You can do that with a partner and Harry knew he could show you the world and provide experiences you might not have if you were by yourself, but if you took the romance and his undying love for you out of the equation, would he encourage you to give your all to him?
If it were anyone else, he’d tell them to keep their options open and grab any opportunities given to them. Was he holding you back from that?
“Do you wish you did? Have more relationships before me?” He solemnly asked, brows knitted together while he waited your reaction.
That was a hard question to answer. But you had no regrets in dating Harry and that’s all that mattered. “In some ways, yes. I wish I had more experience in how to navigate even being in a relationship. But mostly no. There’s no one else I’d want to share my firsts with. In a lot of ways, you’re my first everything and I wouldn’t trade that for the world.” You cupped his face, running your thumbs under his cheeks. “Loving you is the happiest I’ve ever been and hopefully now, the people we love will be part of that too.”
Harry’s gaze softened and time seemed to still around you two. Having this conversation in such a vulnerable place like a shower only added to the intimacy of it all. You had a way of knocking the air out of his lungs. It happened with a look or a sigh, your gorgeous smile. And it definitely happened when you said things like this.
“I want to give you the world, y/n. I want to give you everything you want. You tell me and it’s yours.” He murmured, gazing deep in your eyes.
“I just want you.” You whispered, “It’s all I’ve ever wanted, really.”
His eyes flickered between yours as he tipped his head forward to rest his forehead against yours. His wet hair dripped down your cheek, running down your jaw and neck, all the way until it joined the water at your feet. “I just want you too. Always.”
You smiled and pulled his mouth down towards you, pressing your body against his to get impossibly closer to him. He wrapped his arms fully around you, squeezing you against him so every inch of your pretty soft skin melted into his. Your mouths blended into one, lips brushing together in a slow languid kiss.
His tongue slid across your bottom lip and you freely gave him access to your mouth so he could slip in and run his tongue against yours. God, everything about it was so sexy. The steam clouding over you both, how good your wet bodies felt pressed together… the way his cock started to harden against your thigh, unable to spring up in that way you loved due to how close you two were.
“I think…” You gasped, breaking free to run your mouth over his jaw. “You should finish your shower…” You pressed kisses in a path towards his ear, kissing his lobe once you got there before playfully tugging at it between your teeth. Harry whimpered in your ear, reaching down to squeeze your ass in both hands. “...and join me in bed.”
With that, you kissed his neck then unwrapped yourself from his arms, smirking as you slid past him to grab your towel. His hand snapped out suddenly, clasping around your wrist. “Don’t go.”
Harry looked like a starved man. His chest was heaving, cock heavy and hard between his legs and his lips all red and puffy from your kisses. You would’ve fucked him right there if shower sex didn’t scare the hell out of you.
“I’ll get you a towel.” You blew him a little kiss, ignoring the crazed look in his eyes and walking away. Oh did you love a tease.
It wasn’t long before Harry had you pinned to your bed, grinding his hips in slow deliberate strokes. Your entire love making was just that, making love. It was slow and deep, full of so many kisses you could barely breathe. His body was pressed heavy on top of you and he made sure you felt every inch of him that you could. Every inch of his cock, every inch of his heavy muscle and soft sweaty skin.
The window above your bed was still open, a clear view of the moon above your heads. It was a view you two decided was worth putting your pillows down by your feet when you were finished so you could lay the opposite direction and look outside. You had a nice view of the water, though it was particularly dark outside and the moon was so bright it took your entire process.
“I still can’t believe she knows.” Harry murmured, looking up from where his head rested on your chest.
“Who?” You whispered, missing the context of his comment, “My mum?”
“Mmh.” he nodded, looking down to where your hands were joined and resting on your stomach. “It feels… good. I don’t know how to explain it, but it feels like we’re moving onto the next step.”
“I feel the same. I feel better knowing she’s supportive. I had a feeling she would be, but it’s nice knowing I’ve got her on my side when we tell my dad.”
“Mmh.” He hummed in agreement, looking at the string of pearls around your neck. You put them back on after the shower and he found himself mesmerised by the way they twinkled under the moon light. “y’know I told my mum I was seeing someone. After our weekend away.”
“You did?” you frowned slightly.
“I didn’t say anything too personal or anything because we were keeping it quiet.” He assured, sensing the slight panic in your voice. “But I wanted her to know I have someone in my life who makes me happy.”
You smiled, that slight beat of worry completely gone. “What did you tell her about me?”
“Not much. Just your name and that you’re studying. I didn’t want to show her any photos without asking you. She gets a bit excited and I knew if I sent her something she’d tell everyone about it.” He rolled his eyes, but you could tell by his tone that he loved that quality about her. Pausing, he looked from the moon to you. “I think you’d like her.”
“She sounds like my type of gal.” You grinned, “I’m excited to meet her.”
“I think she’d cry if you said that. Happy tears of course.”
You laughed softly, swiping your fingers through his hair. It had dried down after the shower and your activities and became all fluffy and dishevelled. You loved it in its natural state.
“Would you like to meet her?” Harry asked suddenly, his voice soft so only you could hear it. There was no one in your apartment but you yet the moment was so intimate and quiet, he didn’t want to ruin it. “We could facetime?” He looked up at you, expression hopeful for your response.
“Harry I’d love that.”
“Really?” His eyes widened ever so slightly, like he was surprised you’d agree. “You would?”
“Of course I would.” You assured, smiling while dancing your fingers across his jaw. “Set it up. Whenever suits her.”
“Okay.” He grinned, reaching up to kiss you quickly before settling back down on your chest to look out at the moon, “I will.”
It felt so right and natural to take this next step. There were nerves about it, of course, and you couldn’t lie and say you weren’t scared that Anne wouldn’t like you or that you’d make a fool out of yourself. But you knew a decent amount about her and even if you didn’t, you knew you’d love her simply based off the fact you loved Harry. That was enough.
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⋆ ˚｡𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝒽𝑜𝓊𝓇𝓈 ୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆
enhypen 8th fem!member x maknae line
genre: fluff
type: oneshot
word count: 830
˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚ synopsis: being apart of the maknae line of enhypen, (y/n) has individualized special activities which she usually does with each specific member ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚
being each other’s salon (k.sw)
As cliche as it sounds, (y/n) and Sunoo do their skincare together— however, not in a way where they do it side by side but instead, they do it for each other. Although it’s not always, neither is it seldom.
On some random night, the members will find the two of them sitting with folded legs on Sunoo’s bed, facing one another as they gently fix on a cold face mask on each other’s face. This comes off as a shock to the members at times, knowing that Sunoo doesn’t usually let anyone touch his face as they please but he’s given (y/n) privilege saying that she’s “trustworthy and hygienic.”
Both so intent in properly doing each other’s skincare that they don’t need to talk but oftentimes they’ll stare into each other’s eyes as they work, making them burst into laughter before getting back to their task. The warm touch of their fingers contrast with the usually cold creams and masks, giving each other a pleasant feel and at times, Sunoo leans against her hand further without himself realizing.
Sometimes, whenever they’re tired or taking extra steps in their routine, they’ll end up falling asleep on the bed with their face masks slipping off and the members snickering at them through the open door.
playing with each other’s hair (y.jw)
(y/n) has always said that she thinks Jungwon’s hair looks very soft so one day, he let her confirm it on her own— and it was, in fact, fluffy and silky. Ever since then, it’s always been a norm for (y/n) to fix his hair and even play with it, even more so when he’s sitting in a lower position thus, giving her full access to his head.
And this goes both ways, especially so because Jungwon is used to petting Maeum so his hands are constantly searching for something to occupy themselves with.
They’re both watching TV and are completely focused on the show? (y/n) has her fingers through Won’s hair unconsciously.
They’re on live and a member is talking? Jungwon’s playing with (y/n)’s ponytail out of habit as she sits on the floor and him on the couch— hand swishing the tied section like a tail.
Once, the hair stylist even ended up scolding them for messing up the hard work she put in their hairdo and they almost ended up being choked by hairspray.
being each other's comfort bubble (n.rk)
As bubbly as (y/n) is, she too needs her moments of tranquil— and from Ni-ki she finds it. Even though he's frisky and has untamed moments in which he pesters the living daylight out of her, he too is one of whom (y/n) finds most comfort with.
Whenever they're out on a schedule, (y/n) will find a spot to stand beside Ni-ki, or a seat beside him and vice versa. Even without words, they understand each other so well that it's not completely bizarre to say they have mind reading abilities when it comes to each other.
They have their low times every once in a while and unfortunately, some of those times are during filming. And as if they've discussed it beforehand, they would always step forward for each other.
"We need someone in my team! Ni-ki, (y/n), one of you?" Jay asks and turns to the younger two who are sitting on the seat cushions on the floor, looking up at him.
(y/n) raises her hand. "Me! I'll play!" She jumps onto her feet and flashes a small smile to the tired Ni-ki who reciprocates the gesture with a smile of his own.
Or when they're doing something that they know the other is not keen on.
"(Y/N)!!" Jungwon shouts excitedly when she walks out to the pool area where the rest of them are. She's dressed with long swimming tights and a cardigan over her swimming tee. Despite being dressed the part, she doesn't actually want to get into the water. It's just a precaution thing and to match the whole theme.
"Come join us!" Jake calls as he combs his wet hair back, smiling brightly at her and showing off his pearly whites.
(y/n) gives a wave of her hand and a small shake of her head, rejecting him but he must've missed them because suddenly, he's swimming towards her— seizing her ankle to which she jumps at.
"Wait, I—"
SPLASH!
Jake lets out a yelp of shock before turning to the culprit, Nishimura Riki, who's giggling to himself after smacking the older with a big wave of chlorinated water.
Thirsty for payback, Jake paddles in the water as fast as he can to catch their maknae, letting go of (y/n) in the process and she meets eyes with Ni-ki who's already looking at her.
He winks (blinks) at her with a proud grin before taking big strides underwater to escape from the hollering madman close on his tail. (y/n) can only chuckle before joining Sunoo under the parasol.
ᡣ𐭩ྀི₊ ⊹ masterlist ᝰ.ᐟ✮⋆˙
copyright © 2024 thinemoonshine
all rights reserved
#enhypen x reader#enha x reader#enhypen x female reader#sunoo x reader#jungwon x reader#ni-ki x reader#enhypen oneshot#enhypen fanfiction#enhypen drabbles#enhypen imagine#enha oneshot#enhypen 8th member#riki x reader#niki x reader#enhypen x y/n#enhypen x you#enhypen maknae line#maknae line x reader
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Why do all queer people suddenly have to be ok with pedophile/incest/zoo shit? "Block and move on" doesn't change the fact that I see people interacting with genuine fucking cp. I report what I can and I'm told I'm an exclusionist anti kink homophobe. This isn't fucking healthy for anyone.
i cant speak for everything but i think you're being delusional, most queer people are not pedophiles, youre probably referring to ageplay (adults pretending to act in ways that can't tangibly harm children), most queer people are not zoophiles, you're probably referring to furrys or therians etc (adults pretending to act in ways that can't tangibly harm animals), most queer people are not even doing incest with their familial siblings, they are doing fauxcest (adults pretending to act in ways outside the sanctity of your nuclear family ideals).
if you see art that depicts animal/furry sex or incest or rape, you have to understand that this is not tangibly harming anymore, depictions of underage characters or adults pretending to be children is not cp and to say something like this is offensive to actual csa survivors. i say all this because what you're saying sounds extremely reactionary and based on a facist narrative. like no, most queer people are not grooming children or fucking dogs, youre regurgitating bullshit.
i dont have time to explain the more complex grey areas of the world we live in, becsuse its not as simple as "this notion is good and that notion is bad" but you need to first off understand, that your disgust does not equate to harm, if you are uncomfortable with something, it is not the fault of other people to conform to how you think they should behave. harm in this context is when someone who doesnt want to be engaging with something is being forced or coerced into it. consider asking people if they are being harmed instead of projecting your own expectations onto them.
of course there exists specific cases of actual children being abused and animals being harmed and then something should probably be done, for the victims, the harm should be rectified. instead of trying to punish the abuser (doesnt work). if you actually care about not being a reactionary homophobe, then read a book about prison abolition and queer history in the context of facism and stop hassling me about it, its not my job to learn you how to stop being a pinhead
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want to give my two cents on the AI usage in the maestro trailer--
i think seventeen doing a whole concept that is anti-AI is very cool, especially as creatives themselves i think it's good that they're speaking up against it and i hope it gets more ppl talking about the issue. i also understand on a surface level the artistic choice (whether it was made by the members, the mv director, or whoever else), to directly use AI in contrast to real, human-made visuals and music in order to criticize it. i also appreciate that they clearly stated the intention of the use of AI at the beginning of the video
however, although i understand it to an extent, i do not agree with the choice to use AI to critique AI. one of the main ethical concerns with generative AI is that it is trained on other artists' work without their knowledge, consent, or compensation. and even when AI generated images are being used to critique AI, it still does not negate this particular ethical concern
the use of AI to critique also does not negate the fact that this is work that could have been done by an actual artist. i have seen some people argue that it's okay in this context because it's a critique specifically about AI, and it is content that never would have been done by a real artist anyway because it doesn't make sense for the story they're trying to tell. but i disagree. i think you can still tell the exact same story without using AI
and in fact, i would argue that it would make the anti-AI message stronger if they HAD paid an artist to draw/animate the scenes that are supposed to represent AI generated images. wouldn't it just be proof that humans can create images that are just as bad and nonsensical and soulless as AI, but that AI can't replicate the creativity and beauty and basic fucking anatomy that's in human-made art?
it feels very obvious this was not just a way to cut corners and costs like a lot of scummy people are using AI for. ultimately it was a very intentional creative decision, i just personally think it was a very poor one. and even if some ethical considerations were taken into account before this decision, i certainly don't think all of them were. at the very least i feel like the decision undermines the message they want to convey
i would also like to recognize that i myself am not an artist, and i have seen some artists that are totally on board with the use of AI in this specific context, so clearly this is not a topic that is cut and dry. but generative AI is still new, and i think it's important to keep having these conversations
#melia.txt#also want to add that as musicians svt are more directly threatened by AI generated audio than they are by AI generated images#and yet AI generated images is what was used in the video#and i guess the MV director/production company are the ones directly responsible for putting that in there#whether it was their initial idea or not#and they work in a visual medium so perhaps that makes it more 'fair' but idk it just feels like#the commentary is around music. which makes sense. and using human produced music/sound#but then taking advantage of AI images#idk just feels weird#i mean i don't like it either way#like i said in the main post i understand the intention behind the creative decision#and i'm still happy svt are speaking against ai at all i do think overall they're doing a good thing here#i just don't agree with the creative decision they/the production company/whoever made#edit: deleted the part about not boycotting svt over this bc ppl were commenting about boycotting bc of the 🛴 stuff#i meant specifically /I/ am not calling for a boycott because of specifically the ai stuff#was just trying to make a general point that im not making this post bc i want to sabatoge svt or whatever#bc kpop fans love to pull that catd whenever u criticize anything#so yeah just removed that bit bc i dont want ppl getting confused what im talking about#respect ppl boycotting because of scooter/israel stuff but thats not what this post was intended to be about#edit 2: turning off reblogs bc im going to bed and having asomewhat controversial post up is not gonna help me sleep well lol#may or my not turn rb's back on in the morning
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why do you think cytherea targeted the fourth the way she did? we know why she killed the fifth, and we know why she killed people generally, but the writing in blood and the chasing jeanne after killing isaac feels weirdly personal
It does seem personal, yeah. I'm sure it was intended to. I'm also sure it wasn't. I doubt Cytherea even noticed they were people enough to have beef with them.
Let's look at her goals:
She's using the heirs as bait to get John's attention, but doesn't want to make the real stakes apparent. So she kills them off, one by one, slasher movie style. She's playing with them, creating a narrative so that when the terrified survivors call for help, John is curious enough about whatever theory they've come up with to come take a looksee.
That's probably why she planted the idea of vengeful angry ghosts so early. She knows it's something that's bound to get John's attention without alarming him enough for him to be on the defensive. His old house is haunted by violently angry revenants? That doesn't sound right, but you never know with ghosts. Seems both interesting and a bit concerning, he'd better take a look.
The Fourth specifically were targeted because their investigation into Abigail and Magnus' murder posed a threat to her plan. They had found Dulcinea and Protesilaus' ashes in the incinerator and raised the alarm, which put them way too close to asking the right kinds of questions. Like: "Whose ashes are these?" and "Is this connected to the other murders?" They had to die, and they had to die in a way that drew attention away from their investigation and lent credence to Cytherea's angry ghost narrative, or the story they had to tell when they called John might be a little too close to the truth to get the intended effect.
So. Giant bone monster in the basement laboratory, a sleeping child skewered in a locked room, and ominous writing in the victim's blood. A tableau designed to be so horrifyingly personal it doesn't occur to anyone it might have been pragmatic.
#the locked tomb#cytherea loveday#tlt meta#gideon the ninth#gtn spoilers#jeannemary#jeannemary chatur#isaac tettares
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That cool bee book I was talking about a while ago mostly refrains from philosophical digressions (which I think is a strength, I appreciated how the author had total confidence that just clearly presenting the facts about his subject would be enough to make a fascinating book without the need for any "...and here's why that should blow your mind" editorializing, and he's totally right), but there was one towards the end I've found myself thinking about a lot, which is: he wants people to stop using "self-consciousness" (i.e. the concept exemplified by the mirror test but used implicitly or explicitly in tons of other contexts) as a criterion for which animals can be considered sentient/morally relevant/having significant inner lives/however you want to describe it. Not, as you might expect, because he thinks it's an unreasonably high bar to meet, but because it's such a low bar that it produces no distinctions: he argues that basically any animal with any kind of developed central nervous system has to have some kind of self-consciousness almost by definition.
The example I remember best is: imagine you can see an object in your visual field getting closer to you. No matter the specifics, it's obviously always going to make a huge difference to how you evaluate this situation whether the cause of the object getting closer is a] the object is moving towards you, or b] you are moving towards the object. If a, then something might be pursuing you or falling on you or a thousand other things that are just not even worth considering in the case of b. But visually the two cases are indistinguishable; if you're going to be able to track the difference, your brain has to be putting at least some work into keeping tabs on what your own intentions are and what choices you're making as you move through the world, predicting the expected consequences of those choices, and maintaining a fairly tidy mental separation between stuff in the world that you're making happen and stuff in the world that's just happening of its own volition. Otherwise, every time you walk towards a rock you'll freak out and think the rock is rolling into you, or vice versa.
And it's not hard to see how this applies to your entire sensory world right, it applies to sounds and tactile sensations and even feelings internal to your body to some extent, if you're going to both perceive the world and take actions in the world then it's mandatory to mentally separate yourself and the world before that's going to yield even an ounce of helpful information, you just can't function successfully on the most basic level if you're processing stuff that you're doing on the same level as stuff that's happening, if you're in that state then you simply don't have a usable model of the world at all, you just have chaos.
So you can very easily eliminate a certain seductive narrative about the evolution of consciousness, which starts with very primitive animals who are mentally processing nothing but basic sensory inputs, then as you rise up the chain more complex animals are forming concepts of objects and building up a more nuanced understanding of the world, until finally you approach humans and the mind becomes so subtle and sophisticated that it gains access to this special advanced meta-level of thought where it can even understand itself! No, the self is precisely the one idea that has to be in place from the very beginning, before any of it has even the most rudimentary practical value. Self-consciousness isn't the pinnacle of the mind's evolution, it's one of the lowest, most basic foundations that everything else builds off of.
I think this is really cool stuff! I don't know enough about the relevant academic philosophy of mind debates to say how far all this does or doesn't speak to that, maybe someone will tell me the "self-consciousness" concept being attacked here is a strawman somehow, I don't know. But it's definitely impacted the way I (just a dumb guy who likes creatures) think about our small small cousins and what their lives might be like and I think it's super interesting. If you think it's interesting too then maybe you wanna buy The Mind of a Bee by Lars Chittka and read it. It's mostly not about this stuff, as I say it's light on philosophy and heavy on bee-life immersion, but if you actually read this whole post then you're probably in the market for that I feel like.
#creatures: they've got a lot going on#I think we'd better just let them get on with it#nohopereadio#uninteresting
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maybe a story where kimis gf (reader) has curly hair and she does her curly hair routine on kimi. love your writing!! 💓
Curl TLC (Andrea Kimi Antonelli X Curly Hair! Reader)
Fandom: RPF/F2/F3
Requested: Clearly (Thank you <3 and as someone with curly hair, I had too much fun with this)
Warnings: None
POV: Second Person (You/your)
W.C. 1332
Summary: Kimi needed some help with his curls.
Join my 1K Celly
As always, my requests are OPEN
MASTERLIST // HITLIST
~~(^Pinterest)
It was something you always noticed. Kimi’s hair was always unruly after a race, but after being with him for almost a year, you noticed the little things. His curls used to be so well-formed and clean, but now, it’s like he was losing his curl pattern. And given that you also had curly hair, you decided to teach him your tricks during an off weekend.
“I don’t see why this is important,” He complained as soon as you started rinsing his hair. “This seems like a lot.”
“I haven’t even done anything yet,” You laughed as you made sure none of the water got in his eyes. “This is just water.”
“But the number of things you have is concerning,” He replied as he glanced over at the three bottles and diffuser on the counter.
“That’s nothing,” You dismissed as you grabbed the shampoo specifically for curly hair. “Now, this is my shampoo. The first time I do it-”
“You’re gonna do it more than once?” Kimi cut you off as he tried to sit down, but you put your hand on his shoulder to sit him back down in front of the sink.
“Yes, the first time, I’ll give you a head massage. It helps get all the dead skin off your scalp and It’s just really relaxing,” You explained as you applied the shampoo to his roots. As you began working it through his hair. You knew better than to explain your process when you were scratching his scalp because you knew he would not be listening. As soon as you started, his eyes shut and that was game over. After a few minutes, you turned the water back on to rinse it. Maybe, you let a little splash onto Kimi’s face, causing his eyes to snap open and look up at you. “The first shampoo is to get everything off your scalp. The second one is to get all the dead skin out of your hair.”
“That sounds gross,” Kimi cringed as he settled back into his seat. “It’s just two, right?”
“Two shampoos, yes,” You answered as you started with the second shampoo treatment. “Then, we’ll condition once and put curl cream in your hair. I’ll show you how to form your curls, and then I’ll help you dry your hair with a diffuser.”
“What even is that?” He asked confused as you turned the water off to let the conditioner sit.
“I don’t know how to describe it,” You laughed as you sat on his lap to pass the time. Kimi immediately tried to bring his hands to his hair, but you grabbed them and held them to his side. “No, don’t touch it! Leave it alone!”
“That’s not fair!” He complained but leaned into you to kiss you.
“I know what you’re trying to do,” You dragged out as you pulled away and leaned your forehead against his. You felt his arms trying to pull themselves from your hold, so you adjusted your grip, “And it’s not going to work.”
“How long do I need to leave this in? It itches,” Kimi complained with no real heat behind his words. It did not really itch, but it was a different formula than he was used to. The texture was just weird to him, and he wanted it off.
“A few more minutes,” You said as you looked at his hair. The curls were starting to form back on their own, so that was going to make your job easier later on. “If it’s really bugging you, I can rinse it now and we can move on to the cream and diffusing.”
“Please?” He asked he gave you puppy eyes. He knew you could never say no to him then.
“Fine,” You sighed in mock offense as you stood up and walked around to stand at his side to wash the conditioner out. “I just don’t think you’re used to it, bu don’t worry. You’ll learn to love it.”
“That sounds threatening,” Kimi laughed as he closed his eyes when you turned the water back on.
“Take it how you wish,” You joked as you finished rinsing his hair. You grabbed a towel after turning the water off and gently dried his hair a bit. “Here, stand in front of the mirror and I’ll show you how to define your curls.”
“I never knew it was this complicated,” Kimi groaned as he stood up and stood beside you. You removed the towel and inspected the natural curls he had already formed. You were just planning on working with what he had. They were fairly spaced out right and they were already semi-formed. They just needed a little cleaning up, and that’s exactly what the curl cream would do. “What is that?”
“Curl cream,” You said simply as you put a little on your fingers and started to run it through a section of his hair. “It’s going to help your curls hold their shape and be less frizzy.”
“Is it going to make them hard?” Kimi complained as he watched you through the mirror.
“First off, that’s what she said,” You giggle as you move on to the next section. Kimi laughed a little, but he gently slapped your arm in response. “Secondly, no. It’s not. All it does is help them hold. They’ll still be soft. You’ve never noticed my hair being crunchy.”
“Oh, good,” Kimi said to himself. He watched you for a minute before asking, “What are you doing now?”
“I’m using my fingers to wrap your curls, so they will be more defined,” You explained, slowing down to show him. “Look. I take this piece of hair, wrap it around my finger, and then gently, keynote on gently, twirl it off. You try.” He tried it. Did it look perfect? No. Would it work for now? Yes. He’s learning, but it's a good start. “That looks good! You’ll get better, I promise.”
“As long as you’re here to help,” He sighed. “It’s a lot of work.”
“You don’t always have to do all of this,” You explained. “Some days, just washing with shampoo and conditioner works just fine. Your curls just needed some TLC today, so we did the whole nine yards, but normally, I would not do the curl cream or diffusing. Only when I’m feeling extra.”
“Oh, good to know,” Kimi trailed off as you finished off forming his curls and moved to grab the diffuser. “This is next, right?”
“Yes! If you want, I can show you how to do it, then let you. Or I can just do it,” You offered, but he immediately handed you the dryer. You chuckled at his eagerness to get rid of the object but started to blow dry his hair. “Flip your head down.”
“I feel like this is unnecessary,” He grumbled but did so without question. You did not listen to him as you just laughed to yourself and moved on with blow-drying his hair. “Why is it so cold?”
“It’s cold to start with, but I’ll warm it up as we finish up,” You replied. “Heat ruins your hair, so even though we’re blow-drying your hair, it’s going to be cool air.”
“I don’t like it,” He groaned as he tried to lean away from the cool air.
“Well, lucky for you, you don’t have a lot of hair, so you're basically done,” You said as you ran your hand through a couple of strands without separating them, and you noticed they were completely done. You decided to explain the rules as you started putting everything away. “Don’t brush it, don't run your hands through it, and do not put a helmet on for a while. In a way, it’s a good thing you don’t have a race for a couple of weeks.”
“About that,” Kimi trailed off, causing your face to drop immediately, “I was gonna go karting tomorrow.”
“You better not! I worked hard to make those curls!”
~~~~~
© BAD268 2024. DO NOT REPOST WITHOUT PERMISSION.
#andrea kimi antonelli x reader#andrea kimi antonelli#kimi antonelli x reader#kimi antonelli#kimi x reader#prema team#mercedes amg petronas#formula 1 x reader#formula 2 x reader#formula 2#formula 1#formula 2 imagine#formula 1 imagine#f1#f2#f1 x reader#f2 x reader#f2 x you#f2 imagine#f2 fanfic#bad268#ship268#thing268
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i know there's a lot of ego and assumptions about my own susceptibility to manipulation going on here but i truly think i am immune to most cults. not even from a bullshit detection standpoint, but from a standpoint of every account i have ever heard/read of someone finding themselves in a cult or mlm includes descriptions of social situations that would overstimulate and stress me out so bad that i would vomit and leave immediately. a road trip with strangers? a self-improvement seminar? giving out my phone number to someone i met in an aisle at target? having to host a recruitment party? the constant hype machine behavior? love-bombing? the pressure to socialize? unpaid morning zoom calls? maybe it's because i never went to church as a kid but i have no concept of "faith" in something unseen nor do i ache for a "community" larger than a handful of fellow hobby-havers, so the idea of manufacturing a new passion just to fit into a crowd i otherwise have nothing in common with sounds like a type of psychological torture customized for me specifically. i barely muster passion for the things i like.
i can understand completely how people get sucked into them and don't think it's something on which character should solely be judged. most people actually do ache for that community, and most people are actually flattered and not freaked out if someone begins to fawn over them, because we are social creatures isolated by capitalism and crave comfort and validation from others. but on my mother, if a new friend dragged me to a "show" that turned out to be a motivational speaker my departure would be so rude and abrupt. i am too fucking autistic to chant affirmations with an auditorium of 1000 people.
if i am ever victimized by a "cult" it'll probably be more of a final fantasy house low-scale personality cult sort of situation. while i would hope better for myself, a charismatic online person warming up to me until i'm sucked into their little circle of sycophants they have collected is not outside the realm of imagination, and all i can hope is that my true friends will be honest enough about catching bad vibes that it never happens.
#can't sleep just thoughts#binged a lot of videos last night about cults and mlms since grifts are a special interest#and every single time without fail i'm just thinking#god this wouldn't work on me#what the narrator describes as a fun time with a group of new friends sounds like actual Hell to me#what do you MEAN you attended a seminar with someone you met on a layover???#no it's the niche fandom spider queens who collect pet artists that will get me one day
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thing I noticed about the music!
i had a weird thing constantly in the back of my head while I binged 9-1-1 over the past few days. and that was the music.
(and i mean the score, not the soundtrack. soundtrack is a whole other can of worms)
this is network television. the score isn't anything super special or standout, but it's alright. it was composed by Mac Quayle, who I know from Mr. Robot, and Todd Haberman. unfortunately, it's unreleased, meaning I can't point to names of specific pieces but they reuse a lot of motifs so they're pretty recognizable to any fans of the show.
and, being me, who has a spotify playlist with over 500 pieces of music from various movies, tv shows and games, and an ear for this stuff, there is one thing that stood out.
like i said there's recognizable motifs. the tense actiony one that plays during a call, the goofy one with what sounds like a washboard (? i may be so wrong here) that plays whenever they're bantering in the firehouse or something comedic happens. the soft piano that plays whenever there's a quiet emotional moment between two characters (which i affectionately started calling the "911 feelings music" in my head). but the thing that really got to me, that was sitting in the back of my head for the whole time I was watching,
Buck and Tommy's theme is new.
at least as far as I could tell! I started this show because I rewatched their kiss scene like 80 times, I have that shit memorized at this point. and when I started picking up that they reuse a lot of their pieces, I started listening specifically for the floaty piano and guitar piece that plays right after the BuckTommy kiss. it's not super unique or distinctive from every other piece of score used in the show, but I never heard it in any other moment, so I'm pretty sure it's brand new for them!
and that just makes me so happy that I felt like I had to share.
#i need someone with audio engineering skills to isolate it from the scene of the episode and put it on youtube pls#i want to listen to it on REPEAT#911 abc#911 show#911#9-1-1#evan buckley#bucktommy#tommy kinard#911 evan buckley#911 fandom
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Hey! I've been loving all of your MOTA posts lately, especially your insights into Gale and his unhappy childhood. Do you think there are any specific ways that the trauma from that bleeds into his domestic life with Bucky? Any nerves that sometimes get struck on without Bucky realising that's what they are?
Thank you so much! Yes, my headcanon is that this happens sometimes. I came up with a few examples, but there could be more.
In a post-war canon AU:
Gale is shit at expressing his emotions because he learned to suppress them. Post-war, this causes a lot of problems. The silent treatment is not a constructive way of solving disagreements.
If he wants to talk to Bucky / it's dinner time or similar situation and Bucky doesn’t pay attention to him because there's a sports event on the radio, Gale flips out. Unreasonably so.
Interestingly, he doesn’t have a problem with drunk Bucky initiating sex with him but only if he does it in the bedroom or bathroom. Drunken advances in the kitchen, the hall or the living room make his stomach roil. It’s very specific, and given Gale’s communication issues, Bucky is thoroughly confused why he’s so roughly turned down sometimes while Gale is on board on other nights.
This isn’t a negative thing, but Gale is obsessed with soft beds and blankets. He isn’t very picky about furnishing their place but the bed has to be perfect. After so many nights spent on hard surfaces both as a child and as an adult, he craves this comfort. He’s all smiley and cuddly when he’s in that bed.
In my HS AU, when they move in together during college:
Gale jumps at every loud crashing sound, especially glass shattering. He’s withdrawn for hours if someone accidentally breaks a glass or a plate.
Once, Bucky comes home drunk from a party in the middle of the night, and it scares him. He’s instantly on high alert and won't sleep much after. Actually, he moves to the couch that night. When Bucky realizes what happened, he’s very apologetic, but it's not the last time he goes to a party without Gale. But from then on, he stays out all night, sleeping at friends' places. It really upsets Gale but he only tells Bucky this months later, when everything comes to a head. After that, Bucky doesn’t do this anymore.
Gale is triggered by the sight of empty booze bottles. Full ones he doesn’t mind, but empty ones make him anxious.
Gale doesn’t know how to decorate and make a space welcoming so he doesn’t understand why Bucky grouches about their apartment being too sparsely decorated in the first few months. Then, when he finally starts to get more into homemaking, he’s nervous to share any ideas, even small ones - e.g. he spends long minutes staring at souvenir magnets because he doesn’t know which one works best or he agonizes over choosing a frame for a photo.
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Love bites.
Rafe Cameron x fem reader
Part two to bite me!
After you disappear, Rafe finally finds you and decides that he’s going to win this final round, showing you exactly who you belong to. And maybe even return the favor of your little love bites. W. C 2.5K
Warnings! Biting! Non-graphic description of blood! Male masturbation! Oral! Male recieving! Daddy kink! Switch! Rafe! Unprotected sex! Spitting! Slight degrading! Dividers by @xxbimbobunnyxx barely proofread because I’m tired and depressed. I also wanna burn it but I promised I wouldn’t lmao. Anyway. Enjoy!
“So, let me get this straight,” Wheezie drawls as she sips her milkshake, narrowing her eyes on Rafe. “My teacher's assistant, the girl you hooked up with, is a vampire?”
Rafe rolled his eyes and glared. “I told you. You wouldn’t believe me.”
“Yup! You’re right. I don’t. It’s insane.”
“Okay so then how did this happen?” Rafe pointed at the bandage on his neck and Wheezie sighed.
“She’s kinky?”
“Wheezie!” Rafe scolded and she gave him the middle finger and continued drinking from her beverage. He sighed and pinched his nose. She would be the death of him.
But he did sound crazy. Who in the hell would believe he fucked a vampire? He hadn’t seen you in three weeks. It was like you completely disappeared. Even on social media you hadn’t posted anything and he felt like a stalker but he couldn’t stop himself from constantly checking to see if you showed signs of existence.
He couldn’t get you out of his mind. Everything about you was electric and fucking addicting. Better than any drug he’d ever taken.
“Is that why you’re obsessed with vampires and werewolves now?” Rafe didn’t respond and Wheezie snorted.
“Okay, Bella Swan.”
Rafe gritted his teeth but he couldn’t blame her for teasing him. But he was determined to find you again and if it included begging you to be with him then god damn it he would.
Another week passed before he had some luck. A new nightclub opened and the advertising was catered specifically to alternative people. It was expensive and elegant. Just like you. He dug through his wardrobe for anything acceptable and impressive enough to get your attention if you went.
Rafe climbed out of his car after paying a ridiculous amount for parking and peeked at his reflection. It would work. His long legs carried him to the entrance of the club and he paid for his way. As he walked through, he was captivated by the darkness. Chandeliers hung from the ceiling, decorative wallpaper covered the walls on either side and the floor shined. People were dressed in dark clothing with luxurious material and he honestly didn’t feel like he belonged. The music was reminiscent of what you played at his house and he looked around. Searching for your unmistakable beautiful face.
Minutes went by without seeing you and he decided to try and wait. You were stealthy and if you were here, you had already spotted him. He strides to the bar, ordering a shot to spark his energy. What if you went back home? To Salem? What if he was completely wrong?
The music stopped and he naturally glanced around the room and noticed the dance floor was empty. That was until a female stepped up and the lights focused on her.
It was you.
He wanted to immediately stand but your red stained smile and tilted head in his direction left him frozen. His entire body went warm as the song played. Your body began to move slowly, your dark dress clinging to your body and curves. You still wore elegant jewelry only now he noticed you looked tired. You were beautiful. Perfect. But he could see the way your lips were slightly turned down and his stomach tightened with worry.
You extended your hand, pointing your finger at him before curling it in a come here motion, your ring shining and he shot up. He maneuvered through the crowd, including an elbow to a man who wasn’t moving fast enough and Rafe stood in front of you, inhaling your sweet scent.
“Hi, Rafe.” You leaned in and rested a hand on his chest. Rafe’s palms set on your hips and his senses went into overdrive as you fluttered your lashes at him.
“Where did you go, baby doll? Thought you left here. I’ve been looking for you.”
“Awww, did my pretty boy miss me?” You tease as you tug on his sleeve. “You wanna be my little toy tonight?”
Rafe shivered before he gripped your ass, pressing you against him as tightly as possible. “You wanna tell me why you look so tired, princess?”
“You’re such a simp,” You smirked and Rafe furrowed his brows before cupping your face. You felt even colder than usual.
“Tell me. Where have you been?”
“Hmm…I’ve been thirsty. But the drinks here just aren’t as good as they are in Salem.” Your eyes flash with a wicked glint and Rafe’s neck prickles in memory of your sharp teeth puncturing his skin.
“You went back home?”
You nod as you both sway to the rock music, your head tilted up at him and Rafe peered deep into your eyes.They held years of mystery and darkness. He wanted to get lost in them forever. “If you need something to taste, you can always come to me.” He said with a hardened seriousness.
You hold your head to the side and trail your gaze along his face. Rafe leaned down and brushed his lips to your ear. “Come on. Show me how good that mouth is, baby girl.”
You smile and cup the back of his head. Bringing him down, you press kisses to his neck, moving aside his collar and Rafe’s cock hardened as he felt you nip at his shoulder before you settled in the crook of his throat. Two sharp points pricked his flesh and he sighed as his eyes rolled back in his head. Your soft lips slightly open as he felt droplets fall, his head lulled as you drank from him, moaning quietly before you pulled back.
The corners of your lips were glistening and you licked your fangs. “Mmm, daddy. So sweet.”
Rafe went to kiss you but you reached up and paused him. “You didn’t think it would be that easy, did you?”
“You love to fucking torture me, don’t you?” He growled and you laughed.
“You make it so easy. You’re like a little submissive puppy, Rafey. You’ll do anything I say. Won’t you?” Rafe wanted to take you right in the middle of the dance floor but he also didn’t want this to end.
“You’re really cocky,” Rafe decided to change his approach. “Is that all you can do? Drink my blood then run away like a scared little bunny? I thought vampires were scary.”
You grinned with a shrug. “Trying to bait me, huh? Nice move.”
“Oh, I’m just pointing out the obvious. I had you creaming on my cock better than any other fucker and you know it. I know your pussy is dripping right now, I can see the way you're pushing your legs together. Baby girl, try to be more subtle than that.” Rafe cupped your chin and watched you inhale sharply as his fingers brushed the exposed skin of your chest, lingering above your heart. “Now, try and behave yourself. I want you to think about how good it felt being my little greedy slut and how hard I made you cum but you’re not gonna touch yourself. No. You’re gonna wait. For me.”
You tried to catch his lips but he stood back with a wink. “You know where I live, Angel. Be a good girl for me and remember what happens when you’re not.”
It was almost impossible to walk away from you but Rafe was determined to finally meet you at your level and as he walked away, his heart raced with triumph.
He won round three.
Rafe stared at his ceiling three nights later, rubbing his eyes as sleep refused to claim him. He missed you so much it hurt. He knew he was obsessed with you but he couldn’t find it in himself to care about how desperate he looked. He needed you. He needed everything about you. He needed your sweet, tight pussy that made his cock ache just thinking about it.
His hand drifted to his boxers and as much as he wished it was you, his own palm would have to be enough for now. Rafe clutched his dick, precum leaking from the tip as he smeared it with his thumb and fisted it. He jerked it, hard and roughly as he thought about your pretty sounds when he pounded you from the back, panties stuffed in your mouth as your ass bounced. Fuck, he needed that. As his eyes fell shut and his mouth parted as he touched himself, already getting close just from the memory of you.
“Oh? Looks like someone is being a bad boy.”
Rafe stilled at the sound of your voice and sat up quickly. He saw the outline of your body standing by his open window. He could see the glimmer of your jewelry in the dark and he turned on his light on his phone. You were smiling, fangs out and your makeup was applied perfectly. Only you weren’t wearing a dress. You were wearing one of his black t-shirts without any pants underneath, showing off the perfect curve of your thighs.
“I mean come on, Rafe. Is it really fair to say I can’t finger fuck myself when you’re jerking off to the thought of me alone in bed?” You shook your head and clicked your tongue. “That's very bad.”
You slowly walked over to his bed, standing beside it and Rafe breathed heavily as you leaned down, pressing a hand to his heart. “I can hear your heart beating…racing just for me.”
You flipped the covers back, exposing his hardened cock underneath his underwear and he saw you smirk. “Looks like you need some help, daddy.” He inhaled sharply as you crawled on the bed, separating your knees as you lowered yourself down. You pulled down his boxers, spitting on his cock before you lapped at the tip, causing him to lay back and his hand found your hair.
Your tongue traced the sides, hand pumping the middle of his shaft before your lips wrapped around his balls and you sucked. He was going to go crazy as you released it with a pop and returned to his dick, pulling it into your mouth and you sucked.
You moaned as he lightly tapped your cheek and then tightly pulled your hair as you bobbed your head up and down, working him with your tongue at the same time as you hollowed your cheeks and took him deeper down your throat.
“Fucking shit. You’re a dirty little slut,” He huffed as he thrust his hips upward, spilling into your mouth and you moaned. He shakes violently as you continue sucking, messily overstimulating him and he finally manages to reach down. He maneuvered you onto your back, yanking up his shirt up over your head and exposed your black lace set you had on.
“Did you listen to me like a good girl?” He quirked an eyebrow and you rolled your eyes. “Mmm, I’m actually glad you didn’t. Now I have another excuse to put you in your place.”
Rafe tore off your panties, throwing them off the side of the bed and he tugged off your bra. Your tits bounced and he groaned at your hardening nipples. He leaned down, flicking his tongue on the sensitive buds before nipping at them with his teeth. “Let’s feel how fucking wet you are,” he shoves his hand down, not wasting time being gentle and swiped his fingers along your dripping core.
He shoved them into your mouth, your lips wrapped around his digits and he growled. “Taste that? That’s for me. All me. You belong to me, princess.” He smacks your ass before he slides his cock along your slit, “I’m gonna fuck you and then lick it clean.” He promises before pushing in, his dick hardening inside your tight pussy.
He holds down your wrists, “you don’t get to touch me, baby girl. You gotta learn somehow,” he breathes as you roll your hips, sucking him deeper and your eyes roll back as he moves.
Your cunt squelches as he pounds into you, the bed jerking from his strength and your legs wrap around his waist. “Daddy,” you whine and try to pull your hands loose but he shakes his head.
“Yeah? Your cunt belongs to daddy. Say it. Beg for me to make you cum and maybe I’ll let you touch me.” He licks up your neck to meet your mouth in a bruising kiss before he pulls back.
“Mmm, please! I’m sorry, I’m so sorry! I’ll be good for you, I’ll be so good for you,” You choke but he shakes his head.
“Nah, I don’t fucking think so.” He pulls your lower lip between his teeth and you open your mouth, sticking your tongue out slightly.
He takes the invitation and spits inside, watching you swallow it before you shriek as your orgasm hits you. He feels your cum around his dick and he slams into you one more time before his own peak hits him. Ropes of his cum gush into you, leaking out and he buries his head in your neck.
“Bite me,” you whisper. “Want you to mark me,”
Rafe sinks his teeth into your skin and tastes slight copper as you moan loudly. He finally lets you go, allowing you to wrap your arms around his neck. “Does this mean I’ll be like you?” He chuckles and then makes his way down your body, separating your sticky thighs.
“It’s not that simple,” you respond before you sigh with pleasure as he drags his tongue along your pussy, licking up your cum with a small amount of blood in his mouth.
“Taste so good, baby girl. So you’re so sweet,” He mumbles against your clit before circling around the center, making your thighs close around his head. “Could stay down here forever,”
“Kiss me, Rafe.” He feels you pull him up by his hair and he meets your lips, mixing your tastes together.
“Don’t leave me again,” He asks between harsh kisses. “Stay. I’ll do whatever you need me to.”
You both stayed there for minutes, breathing in each other and he couldn’t get enough. “Will you be here when I wake up?” He asks, coming to a stop as he hovers above you.
“I’ll be here. I promise.” You cup his cheek, slightly stroking it and he leans into the touch. “You’re such a little simp,” you repeat from earlier and he shrugs.
“I have a thing for vampires.”
He laid on his back, pulling you to his chest and you listened to his heartbeat. “One of these days you’re gonna have to show me everything you can do.”
“Yeah? You wanna hear all my stories?” You tease in the dark and he nods.
“All of them, baby. Then maybe you’ll tell me how old you are.”
You pinch his side and he laughs. “Promise me again. You’ll stay?”
“I promise.”
His eyes drifted shut after you both fell into silence. He woke up to his alarm and smiled when he looked down. You were still in his arms.
Tagging @xxbimbobunnyxx @marchsfreakshow @slvt4jamesmarch @drewstarkeyslut @rafescurtainbangz @emsgoodthinkin @drudyslut @oceandriveab @rafesthroatbaby @theoraekenslover @redhead1180 @gri959 @voyeurmunson
#rafe cameron#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe#rafe obx#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron x you#rafe cameron x y/n#rafe cameron x female reader#rafe cameron x smut#rafe cameron smut#rafe outer banks#rafe smut#outerbanks rafe#rafe x reader#rafe imagine#rafe cameron imagine#rafe x you#rafe fanfiction#outerbanks#outer banks smut#obx#obx fic#obx fanfiction#obx imagine#obx x reader#drew starkey#drew starkey smut#drew starkey imagine#outer banks#obx cast
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WIBTA (idk if asshole is the right word or more creep idk) for keeping younger friends after high school?
Ok so I (F16) am autistic + struggle socially and my high school has like a unit to support people who are disabled or neurodivergent in some way, I spend most of my breaks and lunchtimes in the classrooms here and have been since I started here, and over that time I’ve made a lot of friends there but the issue is some of them are a few years younger than me
I’ve been friends with most of them for like 3 years now and I don’t think I specifically approached them or anything we just ended up meeting via spending time in the same place at lunch and made friends because we have similar interests/personalities, I didn’t see anything wrong with it but I’m starting to doubt that/I’ve seen people calling it weird (age gap friendships in general, not me specifically)
I have other friends outside of this group who are my age,both in school and who go to different schools, but then the group I mainly spend my lunches with is mostly people younger than me except my best friend S (f15, same year group in school though we just have like a few months apart) - started by me meeting my friend (m15, again same year just a few months) little sister let’s call her P (f14 + in the year group below me) and making pretty good friends with her and her best friend
It’s a British school so you start in y7 (age 11) and leave in y11 (age 16) so I’m leaving in a few months, friend group is me, S, P + her friend who are also in the year below me, 2 who are in year 9 and one who’s in year 8 (she’s 2010 I think and I’m 2008), let’s call her L
I know that sounds really weird and makes me sound like a creep but pretty much all of these I met when I myself was like 13 and they were 11/12, apart from L who started hanging out with P last year and sitting with us which caused me to make friends with her. For most of my time in school I haven’t seen a problem with this because they’re my friends and nothing more (I’ve been in love with someone for like 2 years now and she’s the same age as me soo) but I keep seeing like TikToks of people saying it makes you a pedo for having younger friends and i know it isn’t true but also I’m worried it’s creepy for me to have these friends even if it’s strictly platonic because idk I miss social cues a lot and I don’t know maybe having friends in a younger school year is weird
For the rest of school I’m just treating it as normal because I only have 3 months left, I’ve been friends with most of these mfs since 2021 and I’m not going to start being really distant to them now because that would be mean and they’re my friends who I care about but I feel like when I graduate it’s different and it’ll be weird for me to be friends with them as a college student when some of them will only be like year 9, we have a group chat and stuff but I feel like keeping touch with them would make me come off wrong but also cutting contact with them would be really mean
I’ve been bullied since I was in primary school I’m talking like year 3 and a lot of the people in my year group don’t like me even if I’ve basically never spoken to them (again this makes me come off wrong but it’s bc I’m “emo” aka im not emo I’m just quiet and somewhat alt and because I masked a lot less when we started hs so I was like. Harmless but weird/cringy 11 year old and even though I’ve changed a lot since then people still have that impression of me, i was also outed as bi in year 7 in a school full of homophobic people so there’s that) and so idk I feel like if people already don’t like me they’ll jump at anything to make me seem like I’m a bad person
Tl:dr I’m a 16 year old and my youngest friend is 13 but I feel like once I leave high school it’s no longer socially acceptable to have younger friends and that I’d be a creep to keep in contact, am I right That id be a creep for having young friends or am I just paranoid ?
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Always A King (DC x DP)
Sounds obvious, but when Danny is human he is not a ghost.
However, much like the Flying Dutchman in PotC, there must always be a Ghost King of the Infinite Realms. Danny attended his coronation with the promise that it would only take an hour (due to a carefully worded invitation from the Observants). He defeated Pariah a while ago but technically hadn't claimed his right. Figuring that if Vlad or anyone else tries to release Pariah in the future that the ghost will be less OP if he's not the king and doesn't have access to the Crown and Ring.
Danny is of course, furious. There's a lot here in Danny realising he can never really be human again, can't return home, can't return to school.
But I want to skip ahead a little. Vlad realises that Danny's been patrolling a lot more and needs him out of the way for another stupid scheme. When he shoots Danny with the Plasmius Maximus - shorting out his ghost powers and forcing him to become human - he doesn't expect to be bringing about the End of All Worlds.
Because Danny isn't a ghost at the moment, he cannot enter a ghost duel to lose the crown (the cheap pot shot doesn't count) so no one else can take over.
"If you don't kill me in a specific way, the multiverse is going to end in six hours." is a strange sentence for the Justice League hotline monitor to hear when they pick up the line, but at least it works to get them in gear.
#dc x dp#danny phantom#vlad masters#Plasmius Maximus#mine#ghost king danny#danny fenton#the infinite realms
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I'm sorry but I'm going insane for your idea of Lilith and Luci getting a sinner pregnant together can we please have more of your thoughts on this idea 🙏
Absolutely because I'm a dirty little heathen and Season 2 isn't just about to magically pop up out of the ground and I've had SOME THOUGHTS and also this post is way longer than it should be 💀
I was sitting and I was thinking of the concept of the Hotel having communal breakfasts or having at least one day of the week where there's food served and everyone (typically) eats together, not only as a bonding/unity sort of thing but also simular to how real hotels can have complimentary breakfast as part of your stay, and like, yeesh this is actually an entirely separate fic idea in of itself but you're talking with Alastor and you're saying something along the lines of "oh yeah, well, I was actually starting to think a lot about motherhood before I died, but, raising children is so complicated, not to mention society right now is so genuinely hostile and dangerous to children, and i wouldn't have been able to afford it anyways, and, well, you know, NOW i literally can't have them down here"
AND FROM THE COMPLETE OPPOSITE END OF THE TABLE
COMPLETELY UNPROMPTED
HERE'S LILITH, "Oh! It wouldn't be impossible at all! You and Lucifer could still have a baby :)"
RECORD SCRATCH SOUND EFFECT AS EVERYONE LOOKS TO THE QUEEN OF HELL. She seems completely unbothered while her husband is A TOMATO, he can barely even look in your direction, he's just tugging on her sleeve, "L-Lili, cmon, don't say things like that 😳🥴" and awkwardly laughing, maybe even asking to speak to his wife in private (I feel like its a regular occurrence for these two to dip out of a room and reappear and Lilith is reapplying her lipstick as she re-enters followed by a kiss covered Lucifer lmao)
Can you even imagine going to Charlie, "hey um, this is awkward, your mom keeps like. Jesus please don't kill me I'm not a homewrecker but your mom keeps making comments about me having a baby with your dad and she sounds completely serious about it and shes been bringing it up for like two weeks" and you could not be saying this in a more obvious "hey girl this is weird and I don't like it, can you chat with your parents for me to stop this" kind of way BUT, the actual way Charlie is responding ALSO THROWS YOU OFF. I can see it already, Charlie all but LIGHTS UP WITH EXCITEMENT and she, takes a breath, "oh!! I mean!! You don't have to do anything you don't want to obviously, bbBUT UH THAT BEING SAID oh gosh that sounds like it would make you really happy, aaaaand and I know you wanted a family of your own and, hey isn't this place about new beginnings and" GIRL WE AREN'T HAVING A BABY WITH YOUR DAD TF?
You know how I made that post "hey Lucifer kind of appears to have these vague Master Of All type powers down in Hell, what if he could manipulate your dreams and made you dream about being a kid because he's wanting to heal your inner child/adopt you". I also started thinking recently about Lucifer AND OR Lilith using these powers to make you dream about 1) being with them in general and more specifically 2) motherhood and i started mentally deep diving for that shit. Like. It could genuinely actually get so fucked up actually. Could you imagine you're just, VULNERABLE with the Queen of Hell and you're drunk and you're crying and you're just, SPILLING EVERYTHING, she's getting your entire life's story, and she's petting your hair as youre way too drunk to realize youre telling her way too much, amd she's just thinking "oh you poor thing, human society sounds absolutely dreadful now" and like. Think of it from a hypothetical fantasy psychology perspective. It's not like Lilith has never been part of modern society, she's been a member of Hell forever and has only been out of contact for 7 years, BUT she also exists from a time predating all of that AND she built Hell with Lucifer, so like, imagine she actually starts forming some um Strong Opinions on how, it sounds like all these complicated modern things are really dragging you down, both as a person and as a free spirit, and comes to a consensus that your life needs to be a little... simpler
I'm serious, I'm talking "Lilith makes you dream about being In The Actual Goddamn Garden Of Eden Itself with her and Lucifer and you're ALL naked". Just completely controlling your dream. You're naked as the day you were born and so are they and you can't control your dream at ALL. Lilith is wanting to like, watch you peacefully frolic around, I'm talking she wants to see you having your Hot Nymph Summer where you're napping in beds of flowers and you're having birds land on your finger and you're gasping at all the pretty flowers and wanting to explore and, experiencing the beauty of being alive without all these messy modern nuances and it's like NO MAAM I DONT WANT TO PICK BERRIES FROM THAT BUSH, YOU CAN SEE M Y BUSH AND I CAN SEE YOURS AND YOUR HUSBANDS---
Alastor is over here thinking he's hot shit, "oh I do so wish we could return to simpler times without all these modern trivial problems!!" MEANWHILE LILITH IS LIKE. ACTUALLY GOING THAT EXTRA MILE. Alastor is like "boo cellphones are bad and women dont dress modestly enough, people these days spend too mych time with technology and not with family" meanwhile in "the garden" a completely naked Lilith is braiding your hair and weaving flowers into it while an also completely naked Lucifer is feeding you berries by hand as they discuss the idea of having a nice fun swim in the lake passed the glade, like you guys really are frolicking and fucking around like a bunch of fairies and it's. It's peaceful and fun but also you miss your cellphone and having underwear 😩 like miss queen of hell can I PLEASE get some boob support--
Moving on, I was thinking of the Fake Garden in of itself, as its own idea, but like in this poly baby raising context, it would be essentially Phase 1 of the plan to normalize their presences to you and make you more comfortable around them and then skipping into Phase 10 of "oh hey by the way you're gonna have a dream about um sleeping with the King and Queen of Hell and it's Totally Not Real and you're Totally Definitely Not Actually Like For Real For Real Legitimately Pregnant Now ;)" like. First off before I get any farther in this post can we just like acknowledge the like HEINOUSNESS of you not knowing everything is "real dreams" and LiliLuci using this to their full advantage to ask and find out anything about you because basically to them, they think you're just being boggled down and negatively influences by modern human society and you're like an onion they have to peel some layers off of first to expose those juicy inner tender bits
Just. Ok. Like. High level fantasy horror concept ok, here we go I'm gonna cook here:
It eventually does move on to you having dreams about living in an actual home with Lucifer and Lilith, sleeping with them in you know, All Those Ways, basically in what you think is some weird imaginary throuple that while you do find yourself enjoying it like actually, you can't wake up from it, and these dreams can feel WAY too long sometimes. You're dreaming of some, "am I a man dreaming I am a butterfly or am I a butterfly dreaming i am a man" shit where you hit the pillow in Hell and Dream You is waking up, seeing your husband and wife get ready for work and you're basically a pampered stay at home spouse. I honestly can't decide what dynamic would be cuter: both of them having jobs, you and Lilith having jobs while Lucifer is the house husband, only Lilith having a job while you and Lucifer do dumb shit at home, or Lucifer being big daddy and bringing home all the money while you and Lilith lounge by the pool and she takes you to the spa and pampers you all day and is sending texts and photos of how cute you are to her husband while he's working
You're probably thinking "wait but weeb this is actually kind of cute, where is the horror" and for starters it just kind of, mentally wears your energy down over time to 'never shut your brain off' and have true rest, like Lilith and Lucifer intentionally 'trade' you being alert in reality to you being more conscious in the dream world, so, you're not as present when you're around ACTUAL people as you are when you're in their little, fucked up pocket dimension.
Then you've got. The baby. You're pregnant ONLY in the dream. You have THE ACTUAL PAINFUL EXPERIENCE of giving birth, BUT THEN you're waking up and you can't hold your child, show them to your friends, have the, SANITY AND COMFORT OF KNOWING YOU ACTUALLY HAVE ONE. You're waking up DEVASTATED. Where's your baby? 🥺 oh right.... They're not... actually real... like it fucks you up psychologically
I just picture, if I were to put it in an order of events. You go from 1. Lilith and Lucifer are just your casual acquaintances, Charlie's parents that you know through her 2. They start getting closer to you as you stay longer at the Hotel 3. Ok we get along and have fun moments and even sing songs and we have fun times with your daughter ^^ 4. Ok you're getting maybe a little comfortable, am I tripping or are you a little too comfortable 5. You're Bush Out in Fake Eden 6. You accidentally slip up and get more cozy with them in reality because Ok Maybe The Stupid Garden Bullshit IS Fun And Maybe A Little Soul Healing 🙄 7. You're getting banged in the Garden 8. Being in reality is awkward now, suddenly you're avoiding them less, so you're dreaming about them more, having them push themselves closer to you in response to you trying to pull away, like even if you're spending entire days outside of the Hotel you can't escape needing to sleep eventually 9. Suddenly you're like, not in Eden, you're in a hospital getting an ultrasound w Lili Luci holding your hands as a doctor tells the three of you you're pregnant and oh no you're actually really happy and excited about it 🥺 10. crushing crushing reality. You're single and not pregnant and you're beating yourself up for these fucked up dreams you're blaming yourself for having, as if they're some self conscious desire and you're kinkshaming yourself for having them 11. Dream You is having your baby, everyone is so happy like it's actually so perfect, even when you're stressed as a first time parent you have so much love and support to keep you strong 12. You wake up and it's nothing but DEPRESSION DEPRESSION DEPRESSION where is my baby and my wife and my husband who love me and I love them DEPRESSION DEPRESSION DEPRESSION 13. Lilith and Lucifer HAVE TO to spill that Hey Our Baby Is Real because you're like going near insane with "grief" like youre like actually wanting to try and end your life or constantly self harming because Where Is MY CHILD 14. You're so fucked up at this point you don't care to ask questions when they hand your Very Much Real Baby to you looking exactly how you remember them from your dreams. You're just happy your baby is real and now you can be with them all of the time and you don't even care that um This Was Such A Fucking Ethically Dubious Conception.
Do you think the other Hotel residents would have a sliding scale of being ok with this. Like you just SHOW UP WITH THIS LITTLE BLONDE BABY IN YOUR ARMS and Lilith and Lucifer are all but glued to you and they're all fucking confused because WHEN DID THIS HAPPEN??? you barely even spend time with these two, or so they thought??? When were you PREGNANT??? HOW??? I feel like realistically if they aren't all, you know, as Equally Crazy For You, that they would find this extremely manipulative and fucked up MEANWHILE CHARLIE DOESNT CARE and may have been in on it.
Also "something something what if Reader being able to get pregnant also turned out to be like God Himself being like 'hey lucifer lilith here's the deal I'm throwing you a bone right now, ok, this is for you, to keep things chill between us mk' and there are added layers of Oh Shit You Were Created To Be With Them" as if your ass wouldn't have an impossible enough time escaping as is 😭💀
But like... the concept of Reader falling so deep into "grief" that it gets so bad that you're basically not eating or sleeping, Lucirer and Lilith were always gonna tell you but they're forced to do it abruptly because you just breakdown and can't stop crying. Or it's even Charlie disobeying her parents and running up to you with your baby who stops crying the moment they're in your arms
I also just... as a final note..... just as a cute palette cleanser there's one specific idea I keep thinking of... you have your new baby and you're showing it to all your Hotel buddies and you give it to Alastor to hold because your baby was giggling and gurgling at him and you're just, death grip on his shoulder, "alastor please hold my child :) they're excited go meet you, say hi" and while you're like, vaguely threatening him to interact with this baby which he has Extremely Valid Reasons To Find Abhorrent, his deer ears move or twitch, and your baby is just looking up at him with their big eyes, watching those ears twitch, and, poof! Your baby has their first Lucifer/Lilith related shape-shifting incident and suddenly your baby has twitching little red ears and they're looking up at Alastor with these big cute eyes and here you are, "alastor :) aren't you going to praise my baby :) they just had their very first shift and it's for you :) tell them what a good job they did :) you're not trying to make my baby uncomfortable are you :)" and. Ok Maybe this does win Alastor over a bit being the narcissist that he is BUT THE TRUE REWARD is Lucifer scrambling into the room after you call out in excitement, dropping to his knees and all but wailing, "NO, WHY IS MY BABY HAVING THEIR FIRST SHIFT FOR Y O U AND I MISSED IT" and you just have Alastor being an ABSOLUTE SHIT, suddenly oh so cozy with your baby, "well talent recognizes talent! This little one clearly has potential! Why, look at how clearly they ALREADY ADORE THEIR DEAR UNCLE ALASTOR >:)" and from then on you can't leave these two men alone with your baby or they'll be having nonstop contests to "win them over" and prove who the best role model/caretaker is
Ok. Lastly. Lastly lastly lastly. THIS BABY SPECIFICALLY IS RUINING MY LIFE. Look at those STUPID CHUBBY cheeks and those big eyes and how attentive and focused she is like oh my godddddddd if LiliLuci handed one of those to me "this is yours" i would just die like 🥺🥺🥺 man, I'll have to tell you guys later about my idea for "Reader wants to see if Rosie will let them adopt a Hellborn baby and Alastor helps vouch for you and lowkey becomes your husband/the child's second parent" or "Reader finds an abandoned imp baby and all the shenanigans/protective possessive feelings from your yandere/s that follow once you begin your motherhood journey "
#yandere hazbin hotel#lucifer morningstar x reader#lucifer x reader#yandere x reader#yandere hellaverse#hh#sinprompts#hhhhrrrrrrrrr I KEEP HAVING ALASTOR THOUGHTS THOUGH
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