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sneakyblinders · 1 year

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the greatest honor

A/N: the third installment of the "grace saga"! follows directly behind chocolate cake & drunk lunch. warnings: language, sexual themes, alluding to smut but no smut, (lots of foreplay lol) not canon, fluff, pregnancy. 8.4k words. i take no credit for the gif!

It had been about a month from your drunken encounter with Grace, and you hadn’t built up enough trust again to want to see her. She’d tried calling, tried seeing you at the betting shop, but you told Lizzie, who had taken a job as the receptionist, that you weren’t in. Lizzie, thankfully, had corroborated your story and hadn’t let Grace back to see you.

Tommy had been busy with business, busier than normal. He’d had an idea, one that he was hesitant to share with you. But you beat him to it with some other, more pressing news.

You’d been sick to your stomach in the mornings, coming to the betting shop closer to lunchtime. He’d asked if you were alright the first few times, but after that, he figured you’d just grown fond of the shorter days working. He reasoned with himself, you didn’t have to work anyway. You wanted to work, wanted to make yourself feel useful, feel a part of the business.

So one afternoon on a Sunday when Tommy had come home early, you decided it was time to tell him of your speculations.

You were in your bedroom, Tommy changing into more comfortable clothes, preparing to lay down with you for a little while. You sat on the end of the bed, nervously fiddling with your hands. “Thomas?” you said, heart rate fluttering.

“Yes, love?” he said, eyeing you in the mirror as he untied his tie.

“My–my blood is late.” you say, hoping, praying, he will understand your meaning.

He makes a funny face, eyebrows scrunching for a second before relaxing, lips in a slight pout. “Do you want me to phone Doctor Hopkins?” he asked. “Maybe your iron is low.”

You let out a breath of air, hand shaking now. “Thomas,” you say quietly, standing up and walking over to him. He turns around to face you, his hands on your hips.

“Are you alright?” he asks, concern flooding his face.

“Thomas,” you say again, hoping his name would bring some comfort, tears beginning to stream down your face.

“My love,” he says softly, thumbs brushing tears away from your cheeks. “What is wrong? Are you sick?”

You look up at him, and through clouded eyes, you say, “I think there’s a baby, Thomas.”

A million emotions cross his eyes in a manner of seconds. Your husband sinks to his knees in front of you, pressing his cheek to your belly. “A baby?” he breathes.

Your fingers card through his hair. “I’m sorry,” you whisper, more tears falling down your face.

He quickly stands up, hands cupping your face, eyes blazing with intensity. “Sorry for what?” he asks, pressing a quick kiss to your lips.

“I–I didn’t think you’d want a child right now,” you stammer, every fear surfacing.

“No, no, no,” he shakes his head, speaking softly to you, pressing his forehead against yours. “Darling, no, don’t think that,” he closes his eyes for a moment, before speaking again. “I played just as much a part in bringing that life into being as you did, my Darling. It will be the second greatest honor of my life to be your children’s father.” he says, pressing a kiss to your lips.

“Second greatest?” you ask, smiling softly up at him.

“The greatest honor is being your husband.” he presses a kiss to your lips, wrapping you fully in his arms.

When he finally pulls away from you, you look up at him, a dreamy expression on your face. “A baby, Thomas.”

He smiles down at you. “I hope the baby looks like you, my love.”

“Oh stop,” you tell him, swatting at his chest. “Any child would be lucky to look like you.”

“Why’s that?” he asked as you pulled free from his grasp, resuming your spot on the end of the bed. He continued in removing his dress shirt under your hungry gaze.

“You are the most handsome man in Birmingham, Mr. Shelby,” you tell him, a cheeky smile on your face.

“How fitting,” he said, removing his shirt from his shoulders, letting it fall to the floor as he climbed on top of you on the bed. “That I am married to the most beautiful woman in all of England then,” he kisses you again. And again. And again.

The next morning you wake up slowly, stretching your limbs in bed, rays of light scattering through your room. Tommy is miraculously still in bed next to you, the morning's paper in his hands, leafing through it.

“Morning, Darling,” he rasps, cigarette dangling between his lips. You grumble a response, belly already rumbling, threatening to have you running to the bathroom. He sets his paper down on his nightstand and rubs your back soothingly as you curl into his side. “Not feeling well, eh?”

“No,” you whine. “I’m tired of feeling this way.”

He continues rubbing circles into your back. “I know, my love. I know,” you roll onto your back and look up at him. “I’m going to go eat something, come down when you’re ready and we can go to the betting shop together today?” he suggests. You nod and he presses a quick kiss to your forehead, getting out of bed and padding over to his closet where he grabs a robe before heading down the hallway and stairs to find Frances.

A few hours later you came down to his office, dressed and ready. His heart sped up in anticipation of the conversation he knew he was going to have with you today. He knew how you’d react, but your news the night before solidified his need for this plan.

He smiled softly at you, admiring your new, light blue dress that complemented your skin beautifully. “You look beautiful,” he said, rising from behind his desk and coming up to pull you against him for a kiss. “Mother of my child,” he whispered in your ear, planting an open mouthed kiss to where your neck and shoulder meet, pushing away the fabric of your dress to give him more access.

“Thomas,” you whine. “Not now, I’ve only just stopped retching.”

“Darling,” he says apprehensively. “There’s something I need to speak with you about,” you eye him and he leads you to a chair, motioning for you to sit down. “There are some very important things that need to be done in the coming weeks. And, upon reflection of your current state, I think it’s necessary to do some things differently.” he clears his throat. “I need to go to the Cheltenham Races,” your eyes light up. “To meet with Billy Kimber,” your eyes darken. “And my dear, it’s far too dangerous for you to go with me.” Your face falls. “And,” he continues, taking a deep breath. “I am going to ask Grace if she will go with me.”

A fire lights in your eyes. You rise from your chair so quickly it makes your head spin, but the anger coursing through your veins is strong. “What?” you ask him, eyes narrowed.

“I am going to ask Grace to go with me to the races.” he repeats himself and you nearly come across the desk at him.

“Thomas Shelby!” you roar. “Why in bloody fucking hell would you do that?”

“There will be a lot of important people at the races, my love, and if I can figure out if she is different around any of them, I can figure out what her motives are,” he said calmly, both palms planted firmly on his desk, arms spread wide, chest flared. “That is all.”

“Is it?” you nearly scream, turning your back to him. “Thomas, is it, really? When I came down the stairs a few weeks ago, you were standing awfully close to her.” you told him.

“Darling, how many fucking times do we have to go over this?” he said exasperated. “I am in love with you. You have every piece to my heart–hold them in your pretty hands. I cannot fathom loving anyone else!”

“I never said anything about love, Thomas.” Your arms were crossed in front of you, turning towards the door, not wanting to look at him.

He lets out an angry sigh. “So you think I have the energy to fuck someone else?” he says.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you ask, turning back around to face him.

“It means,” he says, tone dark and dangerous. “That you think I have the energy to run a company, be the patriarch of my family, come home to you, keep up with your voracious appetite for sex and fuck another woman? Is that what you think?”

Your mouth drops open, shocked at his cruel words. You remember to shut your mouth before snapping back, “Don’t forget you’re going to be a father soon. One more fucking thing to add to your list!”

You storm out of the office and walk to the library, your place of solace, and slam the door. You could hear glass rattle as Tommy slammed his hands down on his desk, shouting a “Fuck!”

You spent the rest of the afternoon in the library, alternating between being so angry with your husband and crying and reading and sleeping. You were exhausted by the end of the day.

You knew of Tommy’s reputation before the two of you were together. His brothers oftentimes teased him about it when you were first courting, before you began sleeping with one another. You’d met a few of them, actually. May Carlton, being one. Lizzie Stark, for another. They’d both been beautiful women in their own right who’d come calling after him, curious as to where he’d dropped off to. When he turned them down, proudly declaring he’d taken a woman, the look on their faces was enough to break your own heart as well as theirs. You knew what kind of a man Thomas Shelby was, because you fell in love with him. His strength, his intelligence, his unencumbered cockiness and arrogance was more than attractive. It was downright intoxicating. You, and these other women knew what he was capable of–in violence and in kindness. And to have that attention targeted specifically at you, all of the time… well, it gave you a sense of power.

And the thought of it all being taken away by one blond barmaid… it made you sick all over again.

After Tommy realized you weren’t coming out of the library any time soon, and he drained the last of his favorite bottle of whiskey, he decided to go get some more.

“Mr. Shelby,” he heard Frances call out after him. “Would you like for me to prepare supper?” she asked kindly, offering him a warm smile.

He put his coat and hat on, turning to tell her, “Just for Mrs. Shelby, please. Please make sure she eats. No matter how angry she is with me.” he tells her.

She nods. “Yes, Mr. Shelby.” She had heard the fight. Frances, truth be told, overheard more than her fair share of things she would’ve rather not heard. Whether it be fights or their loud lovemaking, or conversations Tommy has on the phone with his business associates… she’s heard far more than she wanted. But her heart grew with love for this couple more every day. In a way, she saw them as an extension of her own family, many of them scattered across the globe now, thanks to the war. When he had hired her, Tommy had promised to protect her as if she were one of his family, and so far he had fulfilled that promise.

“I’ll be back later, Frances. Don’t wait up for me.” he tells her.

“Goodnight, Mr. Shelby.” she says as he closes the door behind him.

He drives into Birmingham, rain beating against the car, wind howling. What a night for a fight, he thinks to himself. He was sick to his stomach with the venom he had spewed at you that afternoon. He rarely got into those fits with you, but sometimes you were so unreasonable. So unwilling to listen to his plan, to his logic. He wanted to scream. He wanted to grab you by the shoulders and tell you that you were too fucking important to risk someone, anyone seeing you–thinking that they could get to him through you. One simple observatory look would be all it would take to see that Tommy adored you. Worshiped the ground you walked on. It was his life's greatest fear: that one day, someone would get to him by hurting you, and his world would come to a screeching halt. No. No, it was too much. He simply couldn’t–wouldn’t–risk anything happening to you.

His head was swimming by the time he reached the Garrison, which was eerily quiet. He was soaked, the deluge continuing even into Birmingham.

Grace’s eyes brightened as she heard the door creak open, eager for a patron. Her head felt light for a moment when she spotted Tommy walking through the door. He looked so dejected, worn down.

“Mr. Shelby,” she said, turning towards him. “Are you alright?”

“I just need a drink,” he says, removing his hat and stalking towards the bar.

“Should I leave you alone?” she asks.

He hesitates, warring within himself. “I came here for company,” he says, instantly feeling a bitter pang in his stomach. “Where’s Harry?” he asks.

“He took the night off.” Grace tells him. She hands him a glass of whiskey, and he swallows it down in one gulp. “How’s your beautiful wife?” Grace asks.

He slams the glass down on the table and sighs, leaning back in his chair. “She’s mad as hell,” he tells her, eyes not leaving her face.

“About what?” she asks, walking back towards the bar.

“You know–” he avoids her question. “In France, I never imagined I’d have a wife,” he chuckles to himself. “Never thought I’d have a wife like mine. No. I never did,” he paused, pouring himself another drink.

“But you have her,” she says softly, eyeing him from her position behind the bar.

He closed his eyes momentarily, reliving the moment of intense rage his wife had unleashed towards him that afternoon, and his cruel words that followed. “For now,” he whispers. “Until she realizes her world would be better without me.” he says to himself.

Grace worries her bottom lip between her teeth. A moment of vulnerability. “Could I sing to you?”

“Only if you get up in a chair and act like you’re performing,” he says, only half joking. But she does. She comes back around the bar and climbs up in a chair, clasping her hands in front of her.

“Happy or sad?” she asks.

He thinks for a moment. “Sad.” he replies.

“Alright, but I will warn you,” she says, a small smile on her face. “It’ll break your heart.”

He shakes his head. “Can’t,” she cocks her head to the side slightly. “My wife holds my heart in her hands—for safekeeping.”

The small smile on her lips falls. “Sad it is then,” she says, before beginning her song.

Tommy couldn’t focus on the song. Couldn’t focus on thinking of anything but returning home to you, telling you he was sorry. So sorry. She finished her song and he said, “I need you to dig out a dress, Grace.”

“A dress?” she asks.

“I’d like to take you to the Cheltenham Races.”

And for a brief moment, Grace thought she had won.

You had sat in the library until you heard the front door slam, and a few minutes later, you heard Frances come down the hall. “Mrs. Shelby,” she said softly, opening the door cautiously. “Mrs. Shelby, I’m making supper, please eat, love.” she said.

You hadn’t the heart to tell her no. “I’ll be there in a few minutes, Frances.” you told her.

And you were. You and Frances ate dinner together in a comfortable, familiar silence. “Go on to bed after the dishes are done, please, Frances.” you tell her after thanking her for dinner.

You draw a bath upstairs, soaking until your skin prunes. Tommy still wasn’t home when the grandfather clock in the foyer struck eleven, or midnight.

By one, he was practically crawling up the steps, soaked from the rain. He was missing you, craving your touch. Wanting nothing more than to tell you how sorry he was. He stripped out of his clothes, letting them fall in a pile on the bathroom floor with a wet smack before coming to your shared bedroom in hopes you wouldn’t wake up and shove him out of the warmth of the bed.

You felt him get into bed, his side dipping down under his weight. You could smell the alcohol and the rain on him. You wondered if he had gone to her. Instead of facing him, you pretended to be asleep. He cautiously spread an arm towards you, his thumb gently stroking your arm.

“Light of my life,” he whispered. “Everything that is good to me,” you could hear him sniffle. “I wish I could be a better man for you.”

Your heart broke, hearing your husband's broken heart through his voice.

The next morning, Tommy woke up before you did, as usual, but got out of bed as soon as he woke up, not yet ready to face your hurt and devastation. He was off to the betting shop office before the sun rose. Polly was stunned to see him there so early.

“Alright, what’s wrong?” she asked.

“Nothing, Pol.” he said, avoiding his aunt's questions.

“Tommy,” she said harshly. “What happened?”

He wouldn’t meet her eyes. “I’m going to lose her, Pol.” he said.

Her face fell. “What do you mean?” she asked.

“She doesn’t deserve me,” he said, shaking his head. “She deserves better than me, than this life. This piss-poor excuse for a life I’m giving her.”

Polly shook her head. “No, no, Tommy, it’s not true. She loves you.”

“She shouldn’t!” he yelled. His mind wandered to the baby and tears flooded his eyes, which he quickly brushed away.

“Well, she does. You’re both fools in love with one another, I’ve never seen such. Now whatever it was, go home, kiss her, and make up. You cannot be sulking around here all day. You’re unbearable.”

She left his office, leaving him to think.

You were in the living room, in front of the fire, just beginning a new knitting project for the baby, you’d decided, when Tommy burst through the door, chest heaving. “Thomas?” you ask.

“Angel,” he breathes, walking over to your seat on the sofa, sinking to his knees and burying his face in your lap. He stays there for a moment, inhaling you, taking in how you feel in his hands. “You’re still here,” he says to himself, almost as a reassurance.

“I’m here,” you tell him, running your fingers through his hair.

He lifts his head up to look at you, eyes red. “I’m sorry,” he says, breathing still erratic. “I’m sorry,” he repeats. You guide him up to sitting next to you on the sofa and he buries his head in your chest.

“Thomas,” you say gently. “Thomas, it’s alright, we’re going to fight.”

“I should’ve never said those things to you, I’m sorry.” he says again, as you lay back against the couch. He lays against you, head on your chest, a hand gently on your belly.

“I’m sorry, too, my love.” you tell him, carding your fingers through his hair again. He smiles, pressing a kiss to your cleavage.

He took a deep breath, before adding, “But I am still not going to take you to the races.”

Your face fell, jaw locking, anger flaring. “But why her? Why can’t you take Polly or Ada?” you ask.

“Trust me?” he said, eyes pleading with you. “Trust me, Darling.”

Grace readied herself for the races, ensuring every detail of her appearance was perfect. If she wanted to make any progress with Tommy, she knew she would have to wear at his senses. And if by looking at his wife was any indication, it was easiest to wear at his senses first through his eyes.

She had selected a red dress and ensured her hair was just right, powdering her face. She met him at the betting shop, where she saw him kissing his wife through the front window. They were pulled flush against each other, his hands on her hips, smiling into the kiss, eyes crinkling at the corners.

Grace had never known romantic love of that intensity. Had never truly known that it had existed. But after seeing the Shelby’s–she knew it was real. Grace thought Thomas’ love for his wife was partly the reason she was unfortunately attracted to him. Not all of her undercover work was truly an act, much to Inspector Campbell’s dismay. She found how a hardened gangster, a decorated veteran of the Crown could be so harsh with everyone else, but turn to complete mush in his wifes pretty hands in a matter of seconds was rather—romantic.

She was, in short, jealous of Mrs. Shelby. She had this great love, this earth-shattering connection with a man who was equally as besotted with her as she was with him. She was from a good, normal family, she had researched, although her great grandmother, who had only recently passed away, was a dowager viscountess in the English countryside, who had allowed her son, Mrs. Shelby’s grandfather, to forfeit his title and estate for love. She was remarkably beautiful and devastatingly intelligent–a match for Tommy in all ways. She was gentle and kind to balance his roughness and brutishness.

Her weakness existed in her kindness, and as Grace had discovered, in her loneliness. She had uprooted her life in London to move into the country with Tommy, sacrificing many friends and the opportunity to be close to her family. Her family was reluctant to accept Tommy, even almost a year into the marriage. Mrs. Shelby’s sister, Emile, was the most reluctant as of late, she had confessed to Grace during their lunch.

She continued to watch them through the window. He said something in her ear which caused her to swat at his chest, both of them laughing, his hand on her belly. Grace’s mind turned as he walked out of the betting shop, placing his hat on his head.

“Morning, Miss Burgess,” he said, walking past her, leading her to the car.

“Mr. Shelby,” she said shortly. They rode in silence for a while before she decided to speak. “So why didn’t you ask your wife to join you?”

Tommy took a deep breath in, searching for a cigarette in his pocket. “My wife is far too precious to me, Miss Burgess,” he lit the cigarette, throwing the match out the window. “There are dangerous men who will be at these races, and I cannot risk any of them setting his sights on her.”

“So, why me?” she asked.

He exhaled smoke. “If they want something to bargain with, Grace,” he paused. “You’re my bargaining chip.”

Her eyes widened, clutching her purse. “What do you mean?” she asked.

He shrugged nonchalantly. “I need what I need, Grace, and I cannot use my wife as a bargaining piece. You understand what I mean, yeah?”

Her brow furrowed, offended. “What does that make me?”

He shrugged again. “A barmaid who works for me. A bargaining chip.”

“And your wife was okay with this plan?” she asked.

“Oh, not in the slightest.” He scoffed.

“Because we’re friends?” Grace offered.

“Because she doesn’t trust you.” he said, jaw clenched.

Grace stammered, heart fluttering in her chest. “Why? What have I done to violate her trust?”

“Well, Grace, you take her to lunch and get her drunk, ask far too many questions and then you show up at our home unannounced, touch her husband and leave with little to no explanation about where you found out where we lived?”

She looked at her hands in her lap. How could she have been so careless? “People in Birmingham know where you live, it’s not a secret.” she said quietly.

“Hm,” Tommy said absentmindedly, throwing the butt of his cigarette out the window.

That day, Tommy had asked you to go to the Garrison and look over the figures. Grace had started helping Arthur with some of the figures over the last month, and he wanted you to ensure she wasn’t fudging any numbers.

You walked in the bar and walked straight up to Tommy’s office, exhaling a sigh of relief when you were able to reach your destination with no interference. You sat down at his desk and unlocked the right drawers, pulling ledgers and ink pens from the drawers.

You sat and worked through the ledgers and logs, invoices and receipts for a few hours. You hadn’t realized how late it was until you heard the bustle of the crowd beneath you, and a gentle knock on the door.

“Mrs. Shelby?” you recognized the voice as Caleb’s voice–the young man who thought he was in love with you. You opened the door. “Good evening, Mrs. Shelby,” he said, giving you a boyish grin, holding his hat in his hands. “You look beautiful,” he added.

“Thank you, Caleb,” you smiled softly at him. “Is everything okay?” you asked as he stood in the doorway, gawking.

“Well, I had noticed something and I wanted to tell you, in case it was important.” he said, face turning anxious.

“Oh, absolutely, Caleb, come in.” you tell him, ushering him in the office and offering him a seat.

He looked around at the wooden and gilded office in awe before sitting down in the soft leather seat across from you. “This is Mr. Shelby’s office?” he asked.

“Yes,” you say, a sweet smile on your face.

“He’s a lucky man,” he breathes, eyeing a picture of you on your wedding day sitting on the desk. His puppy love for you was endearing. Tommy had no doubt that if he keeled over the next day, Caleb would propose as soon as the funeral was over, and he had given you his permission, in jest, to accept the proposal. You’d elbowed him in the ribs, telling him to give him a break, he was a good young man from a good family, and only sixteen.

“You said you had something to tell me, Caleb?” you lead, trying to get the young man to focus.

“Oh, yes,” he said, sitting up straight. “I hope you don’t see this as interfering where it’s not my business, but I wouldn’t want to not tell you and something happen to your or Mr. Shelby,” he said sweetly. “The new barmaid–she’s odd.” he said simply.

“How so, Caleb?” you ask, leaning in towards him.

“Well–a week or so ago, Mr. Shelby had a meeting in the snug with his family–I think you weren’t feeling well, so you weren’t there–” he added. “But she was standing very close to the windows of the snug, and at one point almost had her ear pressed against the glass, like she was listening in to what they were saying,” your heart rate began to speed up. “And then she has kept pestering Arthur to have a phone installed. Do you think she has a lover she wants to phone?” he asked, blushing. “I shouldn’t have said that, forgive me.”

You chuckle. “Don’t apologize, Caleb,” you tell him. “How do you know this?”

He pressed his lips together, not meeting your eyes before saying, “I listen to a lot of talk, Mrs. Shelby,” he paused, looking at you. “Not a lot of people here talk to me, on account of me being so young and all, so, I just listen to the conversation, and Arthur, well, he can be loud.”

You chuckle. “Yes, he can be.”

“I hope you don’t find me overstepping in any way.” he said, eager for your approval of his divulgence of the information.

“Not at all, Caleb. I would like for you to tell my husband what you’ve told me, though, please. We could arrange for the three of us to have dinner, maybe?” you offer.

His ears perk at the prospect. “Meet with Mr. Shelby?” he asks.

“Yes, if that would be alright.”

He blushes. “My mother may not approve of me dining with who she calls the devil, but I’d gladly accept, Mrs. Shelby,” his expression changes quickly. “But I don’t think he’s the devil. I don’t think a woman like you would’ve married the devil.”

“You’re sweet, Caleb.” you tell him, smiling at him.

He stands. “Well, thank you for letting me get that off my chest. I hope I’ve helped in some–odd way.” he said. “Have a good night, Mrs. Shelby,” he said.

“Have a good night, Caleb.” you tell him as he shows himself out of the office.

Tommy and Grace were back in the car, on the way back to Birmingham, the ride tense and quiet.

Tommy knew he had upset her, which wasn’t exactly his intention, but he had little regard for other people's feelings at the moment. He had accomplished exactly what he had set out to do at the Cheltenham races, and his mind was soaring.

“Why did you do that?” she asked, a silent tear rolling down her cheek.

Tommy sighed, not meeting her gaze. “I told you, you were to be a bargaining piece.”

“You never told me I’d have to be alone with a man like Billy Kimber!” she yelled.

“I told you, I couldn’t take my wife and use her as a bargaining piece for these exact reasons–”

“So you take me, and have me pose as your whore instead of your beloved wife?” she spat, angry.

“Yes,” he told her. “Yes, that’s exactly it. I’d rather have people think I keep whores than for men like Billy Kimber to think he can take advantage of my wife. That’s exactly it, Grace.” he said.

Grace’s mind whirred with jealousy, anger, hurt, confusion. While she had been able to convince Kimber to not take her, she’d still had to get on her knees in front of him while he spewed hateful, awful, degrading things to her. Tommy had interrupted, barging through the door and falsely accusing her of being a whore with the clap. At the very last second.

“It was what had to be done,” She chewed the inside of her lip. “I will see to it that Arthur adds another ten pounds to your pay this week.”

She scoffed. “You think money will make this all just go away?”

Tommy sighed again, fatigued by this interaction. “It’s all I have to give.”

“That’s not true,” she said quietly.

He chuckled to himself in disbelief. “What do I have that you could possibly want?” he asked.

“What is all of this for? That is what I want to know! What all of this humiliation that I have suffered at no expense to you is for!” she cried out, tears freely falling down her face.

“Family business,” he rasped.

And they left it at that.

When Tommy finally returned home that evening, you were waiting for him in the front room, bursting, waiting to tell him of what Caleb had told you. “My love,” he greeted you, shaking the rain off his hat, hanging it on the rack as you jaunted over to him to help him remove his coat from his shoulders.

“Hello!” you beamed, reaching up on tiptoes, your feet bare, to kiss him.

“You’re awfully chipper,” he smiled, hands on your hips.

“I have something to tell you,” you tell him, looking up at him through your thick, dark lashes. “Are you hungry?” you ask, face immediately turning to concern.

“A little, but it can wait.” he said, smiling softly at you, cupping your face in his hands, rubbing his thumb over your cheek in soft, gentle strokes.

“Tell me how the races went first,” you tell him.

You blush under his attention, turning to lead him to the front room, to the sofa. He wants to be close to you, wants to breathe you in. He pulls you onto his lap, pressing kisses to the side of your throat, hands gently holding you against him. “It can wait,” he tells you, teeth lightly skimming over the sensitive skin of your throat. What did you want to tell me, Darling?” he asks, eyes closed, lips pressed against your throat.

“Well,” a hand lifts to run through his hair. “I went to the Garrison to look over the books like you’d asked,” you begin to tell him. He gently nips at the skin of your neck and you giggle. “Thomas, this is serious!” you giggle again, his hands moving to your bum to knead your flesh.

“Mm,” he muses, lips pressing kisses farther down your neck. “So is this,” he smirks against your skin.

“Well,” you trudge on anyway, hoping what you have to say will pull him from his advances. “I was there for a few hours, and then Caleb knocked on the office door,” Tommy laid you down on the sofa.

“Go on,” he tells you, pulling the neckline of your dress down to press kisses to your cleavage.

“And–” he was making it hard for you to concentrate, hands winding behind your back to undo the snaps of your dress. “Thomas–” you whine as his fingers free the dress from your frame, allowing him to pull it down, bunching at your waist. He hungrily eyes your lace bra, the one he’d brought you back from London a few weeks back.

“You’re a sight,” he breathes, looking down at you, that pretty flush you get when he’s arousing you spreading all over your chest and face.

“Thomas–” you try to protest but before you can, he’s reaching behind your back again, unclasping your bra.

“Can’t I seduce my wife after a long, tortuous day, hm?”’ he asks, discarding your lace bra to the floor.

You smirk at him. “You may if you shut the doors so we don’t subject Frances to more than she ought to hear.” you tell him.

He smirks, jumping off you to close the French doors to the front room.

When Tommy was thoroughly satiated, and deemed you were as wrung out as you’d like to be, he pulled his pants on, smirking as you pulled his shirt on over your shoulders. Your hair was a mess, lipstick smudged and the flush hadn’t left your skin, but this was his favorite way to see you.

You wadded up the discarded clothes that were on the floor, tossing him his undershirt to pull over his shoulders. “Frances ought not to clean up after us this much,” you tell him, hugging the clothes to your chest in an attempt to hide your breasts from beneath Tommy’s shirt.

“You’re right, love,” he tells you, walking over to where he’d tossed a pillow onto the floor, setting it back on the couch. He stalks over to you, hungry look still in his eyes. “I’ve worked up quite an appetite, Mrs. Shelby,” he tells you, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. “I’m going to go get some dinner, and I’ll join you in the bath after, eh?” he said, delivering a stinging swat to your backside.

You blink at the contact, desire stirring within you once more. “Yes, Sir,” you tease.

He bites his lip, groaning, dropping his head to your shoulder. “You awful woman,” he teases, groaning into your skin. “You know how wild that makes me,” he says, hands gripping your hips, fingers digging into the soft flesh.

“Yes,” you smile. “That’s why I say it.”

He pulls away from you. “Go draw the bath, Darling, I’ll be up soon.”

Frances smiles knowingly at Tommy when he walks into the kitchen. “Mr. Shelby,” she greets.

“Frances,” he replies, feeling out of place with how he was dressed. His feet were bare, and suddenly he was all too aware of how cold he was, the cold tile on the floor of the kitchen making him shiver. Scout paced back and forth in front of the back door. He opened it, letting her out, a cold wind blowing in behind her.

“Chicken stew for dinner, Mr. Shelby,” she says, pulling a bowl out of the warm oven and adding a piece of bread onto a plate, setting it on the small table in the kitchen for him.

“Thank you, Frances.” he breathes, sitting down at the table, nearly inhaling every bite of food.

“Is Mrs. Shelby alright?” Frances asks, back turned to him, standing at the sink, washing the last few dishes. She watches as Scout patrols the back of the property, bounding after a rabbit.

“Yes, she is.” Tommy replied, taking a drink of his whiskey.

“She’s been sick in the mornings, no?” Frances asked.

Tommy sighed. “There’s a baby, Frances.”

A smile grew on her face. “That’s wonderful, Mr. Shelby!” she said.

“I don’t know if I’m ready,” he told her, pushing his bowl away from him, finished.

Frances walked over to the table, taking his empty bowl. She gave him a sympathetic look. “Mr. Shelby, if I may,” she paused, looking for a sign of approval from him. He nodded. “I believe you will be a wonderful father, if how you treat your wife is any indication,” he looked up at her with a puzzled expression. “I’ve worked for many families, Mr. Shelby, for nearly thirty years now,” she laid a hand on his shoulder. “And I’ve never been with a man and a wife with so much love between them. Most men treat their wives horribly, mistresses and alcohol and anger they never learned to control,” she says. “But you treat your wife like gold, and I know you will treat a baby no differently. You will be a good father.” she tells him.

He nods, drinking the rest of his whiskey down. “Thank you, Frances.”

Tommy came up to the bathroom and nearly fainted at the sight before him. You were in the bath, surrounded by bubbles, the scent of rose and jasmine in the air. You lifted a leg out of the bubbles, pointing your toes at him, a naughty smirk on your lips. He loved your legs.

“Mrs. Shelby,” he rasped, shutting the door behind himself. “I’m rather cold, would you care to warm me?” he asked, removing his undershirt and trousers, waiting at the edge of the bath for you to make up your mind.

His mouth was practically watering at the sight of you. “Come in,” you smile sweetly, moving forward in the tub so he could squeeze in behind you. You giggle as he sloshes water over the sides, settling in behind you, leaning you back against him, his arms wrapping around your body.

“What were you trying to tell me earlier, my love?” he asked.

“Oh before you seduced me?” you giggle, hands intertwining with his.

“Yes.” he says, a smirk on his lips.

“Caleb told me something very interesting, and I’d like for him to tell you himself, so I invited him for dinner. Would tomorrow evening be okay?” you ask.

He sighed. “You’re a cruel woman, you know?” he played with you.

“What do you mean?” you ask.

“Playing with the poor boy’s heart,” he says. “Of course, I don’t blame him for being infatuated with you, but inviting him to dinner, my dear,” he let out a disapproving ‘tsk’ sound. “You’re really just playing with his heartstrings.”

“Thomas,” you elbow him in the ribs, earning a chuckle from him. “He knows I am yours,”

“As does everyone in Birmingham,” he jested, toying with your diamond ring.

“I think he only wishes to try and protect us.” you tell him.

“You mean protect you,” he corrects gently. “He could care less if I was shot tomorrow. It’d give him an in to be with you.” he laughed and you elbowed him again.

“Thomas, I’m serious. I think he really does mean well.”

He sighed again. “I know, Darling, I’m only joking,” he presses a kiss to your shoulder. “He is rather loyal.” his wheels began to turn. “Like a–like a loyal dog.”

“Thomas!” you squeal, squeezing his thigh under the water. “Don’t be unkind, please!”

“Okay, alright, my dear, I’m sorry. I will refrain for making any more jokes about your loyal puppy.”

“Thomas!” you chide, turning around gently in the tub, back against the other end, facing him, your feet resting on his chest.

He takes one of your feet in his hands, thumbs moving in gentle circles. “If my punishment is getting a better look at your legs, I’m alright with it.” he smirks.

You shake your head, a look of disbelief on your face. “You’re ridiculous, Thomas,” you giggle as he switches to massaging your other foot. You bite the inside of your cheek, thoughts running rampant of how your husband's day went. “Did she try anything today? Try to get you to pull over and fuck her on the side of the road?”

Tommy’s thumbs dug deeper into the sole of your foot. “My love,” he pauses, his eyes shifting to a darker blue. “How many times do I have to tell you,” he pressed a kiss to your ankle. “That I am all yours?”

“But–she’s new and beautiful and interesting,” you counter.

He presses a kiss to your calf, eyes continuing to darken. “I think,” his hands slide up your leg to your thigh, hands kneading the soft flesh. “One of the most wonderful things about marriage is the idea of continually learning about one's spouse,” he continued, hands moving up your torso to cup your breasts. “I am still learning things about you, every day,” he says, pressing a kiss to your nose. “Like how your hair lightens in the summer,” a kiss to your eyelid. “And how you detest when I sleep facing you because I am a mouth breather in my sleep,” you giggle. “And how good you are with plants,” he reminded you, bringing your thoughts to your flower garden you’d planted last spring. “And I think something I am most excited about, with being married to you, is the adventure of continually learning and knowing more about you as you change. As we both grow older and maybe wiser,” he chuckles and you roll your eyes. “I will never tire of you,” he brings your hands to his lips, pressing kisses to your knuckles. “You will always be beautiful and I would pick you every time, out of any crowd of women to be mine.”

Tears are in your eyes as he pulls you closer, more water spilling over the sides of the tub. “I love you, Thomas Shelby,” you tell him as he presses his forehead to yours.

“I love you,” he whispers, “The only thing in this life that I am sure of. I love you.”

A round of gentle pleasure later, you and Tommy emerge from the now cold bathwater, both thoroughly pruney, but clean. He towels the both of you off before carrying you to bed. Frances had let Scout back in before she had gone to bed, and Scout followed Tommy down the hall to your bedroom, where she laid outside the door after he shut it behind the two of you.

He lays you in bed, settling you under the covers before walking over to the fire and adding another log to it. “I will ask Caleb to dinner tomorrow, my love. Please go over the menu with Frances in the morning.”

“Okay,” you sigh, curling into the covers.

Tommy slides in bed next to you and you subconsciously move closer to him, already drifting off.

The next morning, Tommy drove to town, wanting to pay Caleb a visit at the factory he worked in. He knew their first break would be around nine, and he made it just in time before he had to be at the betting shop.

“Caleb St. Clair!” he called out, the young man smoking a cigarette on the steps of the factory.

“Mr. Shelby,” Caleb said surprised, standing to his feet immediately. His heart raced in terror, fearful he had overstepped the night before.

“I hear you came to pay my wife a visit yesterday,” Tommy said, narrowing his eyes at the young man, lighting a cigarette.

“I only wished to help, Sir.” Caleb said.

Tommy nodded, tossing the match into a puddle near their feet. “I know, boy. My wife trusts you, and she’s asked that we invite you to dinner this evening at our home, so you can relay this very important information to me yourself.”

“I just–”

“Don’t want anything to happen to her?” Tommy finished, a blush spreading over Caleb's cheeks. “Me either. Which is why you’ll be at our home by seven this evening, Mr. St. Clair,” he says, clapping him on the shoulder. “Try not to ogle at her too much, will you?” he says, a faint smirk on his lips.

“Yes, Sir, Mr. Shelby.” Caleb says, an embarrassed smile on his face.

“Seven o’clock tonight!” Tommy said, walking away, back towards his car.

“I’ll be there!”

Seven o’clock sharp, there was a knock on the door. Tommy answered the door. “Come in,” he said, opening the door. Caleb stepped over the threshold and was in awe. He looked at the crystal chandelier hanging above them, the portraits of Thomas and Mrs. Shelby hung on the walls in gilded frames, photos of Tommy’s prizewinning horses scattered throughout the photos of the two of them. “Welcome to our home, Caleb.”

Caleb was pulled from his trance, the grandfather clock behind him striking seven. At that moment, you descended down the staircase, taking both of their breath away. You wore a beautiful light blue dress with a modest neckline that hugged your hips. You smiled at Tommy, who gave you the most tender look.

“Caleb,” you greeted him as Tommy took your hand as you came down the last two steps. “I’m so glad you could join us.”

“I wouldn’t miss it.” Caleb told you, holding his hat in his hands.

You led them to the dining room, where Frances had set a beautiful table. The food was spread out on the table, and no sign of Frances. You smiled as Tommy pulled out your chair for you, on his right. Tommy sat at the head of the table, with Caleb directly across from you.

“Now,” Tommy said after everyone had a hearty helping of roast, vegetables, bread and cheese on their plates. “Please repeat the story you told my wife, Caleb.” he said, setting his napkin in his lap. Caleb nervously followed suit, mouth watering at the spread on his plate.

Caleb repeated his story, word for word, just as he had told you, in between bites of the roast.

After Caleb’s story was finished, Tommy sat back and thought for a moment. He knew you’d be opposed to what he was going to ask next, but knew you wouldn’t challenge him in front of your guest. “Caleb,” Tommy said. The young man looked at him, eyes wide. “How would you like to work for me?”

You nearly dropped your fork, eyes wide. A surprised expression passed over Caleb’s features. “How would I work for you, Mr. Shelby?” he asked.

“I would ask that you keep an ear out for things like this, and report back to me, in an effort to keep my wife safe,” he started. “I’ll pay you well,” he says. “But we can discuss that as gentlemen,” he eyed you apprehensively. You were trying desperately to not let your mouth drop open.

“I would like to help, Mr. Shelby.” Caleb said.

“Good!” Tommy said. “Eat all you’d like, there’s plenty. Take some home to your mother and sisters if you’d like.” he said.

After everyone had finished eating, Tommy excused himself and Caleb to his office to discuss pay. You sat in the front room, fuming. Caleb was a sweet, innocent boy. He didn’t deserve to be dragged to this world.

Tommy and Caleb emerged from his office about fifteen minutes later, shaking hands. “Good man,” Tommy told him, leading him to the front door.

“Thank you for dinner, Mrs. Shelby,” Caleb said, eyeing you from the front door.

“You’re most welcome, Caleb.” you say, smiling at him.

He smiles that embarrassed smile of his, and turns for the door. “Simmons will take you home, it’s too long a walk for this late at night.” Tommy told Caleb, Simmons at the front of the house with the car. Before Caleb could protest, Tommy held up a hand. “It’s no trouble at all. Good night, Caleb.”

You scowled at your husband, disbelief and dread filling your body. “I cannot believe you, Thomas Shelby.” you tell him, standing up to move away from him when he got close to you.

“What do you mean?” he asked, brows furrowed.

“You cannot manipulate everyone, Thomas!” you yell.

“My love,” he says, the tone of his voice even. “He wants to help us, help you, and we need unsuspecting ears and eyes everywhere, especially with the baby,” he tries to reason with you.

“He’s a good boy, Thomas!” you scream. “His mothers only son, and you’re going to get him killed!”

Tommy sighed. “Dearest, it’s going to be alright. No one will suspect him.”

“And what if they do? What then, Thomas?” you ask.

“If something happens to him,” he says gently. “We will set up an account for his mother and sisters. They will be taken care of.”

Caleb admitted to Tommy that he had lost his father in the war. He was his family’s primary source of income. Tommy vowed to him that he would pay him well, and pay him weekly.

“Thomas,” you began to cry. “This is all too much,” you say.

He walks over to you, apprehensively, pulling you into his chest. “He agreed to it, my love. Everything will be alright. He won’t be in danger unless he puts himself in danger. He will be alright.”

“It won’t be fair to his mother.” you say, hands on Tommy’s chest.

“Then would you like for me to pay her, too?” he asks, resting his chin on the top of your head.

“I’d rather you have just left them alone.” you sniffle.

He tightens his grip on you. “I know, my love, but sometimes we must do unpleasant things to protect what we hold most precious.”

Your heart sinks as you wonder, what the root of this was all really about.

#tommy shelby x reader #tom shelby #tommy shelby x oc #tommy shelby #thomas shelby #sneakyblinders #my au <3 #peaky fookin blinders #peakywomen #peaky blinder fanfic #peaky blinder imagine

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fromallie · 11 months

Text

Happy Coincidences ☆ ｡ - ᴋᴀɢᴇʏᴀᴍᴀ ᴛᴏʙɪᴏ

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characters: kageyama x reader

contains: coincidences that aren't so unfortunate and intentional lowercasing.

a/n: we're taking a small break from writing about tsukishima, let’s all show some love to kageyama <3 also i was meant to post this like a week ago so, my bad T-T

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it was a peaceful sunday morning when you decided you were going to go shopping and run a few errands you had been putting off. normally you would be too busy with school work to have time to go shopping, but as exam season was coming to an end, your workload had lightened and you had some time to yourself.

as well as running a few errands, you were hoping to visit a new cafe that had opened if it wasn't too busy. you changed into a comfortable set of casual clothes and made sure you brought everything you needed before leaving your house and waiting for the next bus to come at the bus stop.

when you arrived at the mall, you noticed it was a lot busier than you were anticipating but you weren't going to let a few crowds of people stop you from doing what you needed to do. as you started to head to the stationary store, you scrolled on your phone to look over your shopping list before you were interrupted by the collision of your nose with the firm surface of another person's chest.

thud. your butt was the first to hit the tiled floor of the mall and you hissed in pain, looking up to identify the source of your pain you were shown the sight of a boy that went to your school, kageyama.

he extended a hand to pull you up and within a moment you were standing upright again, "y/n, is that you? i'm so sorry, are you okay?" you were slightly upset and wanted to lash out at the boy but decided against that and calmed your arising temper, "yeah i guess, never mind that. what are you doing here kageyama?"

his face was dusted with red as he faced the ground apologetically, obviously he hadn't done it on purpose so you brushed off the incident, "i was going to buy some knee pads for volleyball, what about you?"

"i'm just here to pick up a few things-" you were going to finish your sentence when a brilliant idea had stumbled upon your brain, "hey, seeing as you almost gave me a concussion, what do you say about shopping with me. we seem to both be alone and it would be nice to do something together right?"

he seemed slightly shocked at your suggestion with how sudden it had come, but soon enough the both of you were chatting away as you continued your route to the stationary store. surprisingly enough, conversation had come really easy to the two of you. having never interacted with the boy, you had assumed he was an anti-social, volleyball obsessed introvert.

well, you weren't necessarily wrong, as the two of you conversed mainly about volleyball which was nice seeing as both of you played. you had applied to manage the boys volleyball team with yachi so it was good that you had a chance to familiarise yourself with one of the members.

when you reached the entrance of the stationary store, you saw that they had new shelves with sanrio themed stationary on display. you needed more pens as your classmates who borrowed them seemed to always fail to return them, you picked up a few ballpoints and strolled through the aisles of the store with kageyama following close behind.

when you had finished gathering your items, you waited at the cash register whilst the cashier rang up your total. "all the items i needed to buy were in this store so, we can go buy your kneepads now." he nodded his head and as the two of you exited, you followed as he led the way to the sports store.

when you entered the store, it seemed that the whole atmosphere changed as cool and fresh air hit your face. with all the people in the mall it was starting to get hot, so the cool air was very much welcomed.

the store smelt like new shoes, which sounds odd but it was a pleasant smell. as the two of you walked to the volleyball section, neon yellow balls lined the shelves. the knee pads kageyama was looking to buy was on a shelf and there was a promotion going on, "buy two get 20% off." "hey y/n, did you need a pair of knee pads, they're having a sale." you turned to face kageyama before giving him the double thumbs up, he grabbed two packs and the two of you headed to the cash register, "hey kags, did you want me to pay for half?"

as he handed the cashier a few notes, he looked at you with confusion "why would you pay for it?" "uh, you know what, never mind, thank you kageyama." leaving the store, he handed you one of the two bags of knee pads "oh and y/n, you can keep calling me kags if you'd like."

your eyes had widened as you cringed at the realisation that you had let that nickname slip, you started to walk behind him to hide the faint blush on your face "oh okay, thanks kags."

with nothing left to buy, the two of you headed to the bus stop waiting for the next bus to come. the sun was starting to set and you had begun to get sleepy, when the bus arrived, the two of you took seats near the back next to each other and sat in comfortable silence as the bus took off. being so close to kageyama, you had began to get all warm and before long you had drifted off to sleep.

"hey y/n, wake up" your eyes fluttered open as you noticed the position you had put yourself in, immediately you sat up straight removing your head from kageyama's shoulder. you opened your mouth to apologise before you were interrupted, "you're lucky i know that we get off at the same stop, you must've been really sleepy huh?" you noticed the glint of tease in his voice and you had a large desire to bury yourself in a 6 foot deep hole. "i'm sorry for sleeping on you kags." he laughed as the two of you stepped off the bus, despite the cool breeze, your face wouldn't stop heating up so you covered it with your hands and tried your best to walk without being able to see.

as you walked, you bumped into kageyamas chest and he removed your hands from your face, "it's fine, really y/n, no need to be so embarrassed." you knew he was trying to make you feel better, however it seemed that you had become even more flustered so you quickly jogged a few metres in front of him and fanned your face in attempts to cool it down.

the bus stop wasn't too far from your house so, you had to handle a few more meters and you would be able to be rid of this situation. for the rest of the walk, you continued to stay in front of him and no words were exchanged between the two of you.

after a few minutes of mental torture, you had reached your house and turned around to finally face kageyama, "this is my stop, i'll see you tomorrow kags!" he smiled at you before bidding you farewell, "have a good evening y/n." you rushed to your front door and quickly opened it to escape into the comforts of your home.

you ran into your bedroom and changed out of your clothes before jumping into bed, "what an eventful day" you thought to yourself as you tried to calm your mind before heading to the kitchen to eat dinner.

when you finished eating dinner and showered, you sat on your bed having finally forgotten the embarrassing events that had occurred today before your phone rang with a notification.

"i had a lot of fun today, let's do this again sometime. also, i got your number off of the short bastard hinata." - kageyama

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#haikyuu!!#kageyama tobio #kageyama x reader #kageyama fluff

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istorkyou · 1 year

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The Price Of Love (Modern!Ivar AU)

A Modern!Ivar x F Reader

Warnings - See individual chapters. STRICTLY 18+

Synopsis - Money isn’t everything.

Word Count - 1340

Note - This is the second fic I ever wrote and I’m not sure why I never posted it. I think I started writing The Arrangement not long after and kind of fell out of love with this one. Still, it’s been festering in my completed docs for well over a year so I figure I might as well post it 😬 It’s fluffy, and maybe a little cheesy (and by a little I mean a lot!) so if that’s your bag I hope you enjoy it!

Moodboard - The beautiful moodboard is made the magical, amazing @serasvictoria. Thank you so much xxxx

This was beta read by my aussie wife who has left Tumblr. All love, all the time Lou x

Tag List - Let me know if you want on or off :)@smears-and-spots @punkrocknpearls @youbloodymadgenius @momowhoo @zuxiezendler @not-another-viking-fanfic-blog @ivar-s-my-brat-tamer @pieces-by-me @heavenly1927 @berryonasummerevening @synnersaint @out-of-the-box-and-into-alchemy @petite-hime @serasvictoria @mimiiinspace @itsmysticalmystery @lonewolf471 @mylifeisactuallyamess @draculasbride-blog @love-all-things-writing @southernbe @redhead7799 @kaybee87 @ivarlover @ivarhoegh @idgafiamallthefandoms @darkphoenix5037 @profoundtyrantharmony @snarling-through-our-smiles @crazyunsexycool @xceafh @bragisrunes@noway4u @batmandallyboy @complicatedbutrare @readsalot73 @meandmycherrytree

Masterpost

CHAPTER 12

The next few weeks can only be described as surreal. You go about your normal life but now some people recognise you, staring and pointing and taking pictures of you. It’s like being trapped in a weird nightmare.

Your shop is way busier than usual, you suppose you have to look on the bright side of this shit show.

There are countless articles written about you, Sadie tells you that most of them are complimentary, although some less so. She tells you the comment section and social media posts are really awful. You just steer clear of it all, the good and the bad.

Ivar is having a hard time at work because of it all. He tells you his mother isn’t pleased with him at all. He keeps most of the details to himself but he is definitely more stressed than usual.

You spend every spare seconds with each other, at your place. It doesn’t appear that your place is known to the media yet so it becomes your safe haven.

You find relief in each other. Every chance you get you are making each other come to try and release some of the tension. You try to avoid going out together in public, but having to hide away is not healthy for your new relationship. You aren’t doing the normal things new couples do, dating, getting to know each other outside the bedroom.

On a lazy Sunday afternoon you're both fed up with being cooped up inside.

“Let’s go out, Ivar. I can’t be in these four walls anymore. Let’s go out and get some lunch, go for a walk, let’s just go anywhere, I’m going crazy in here!” Your hands fly up in exasperation.

A massive smile cracks out on Ivar's face, “that’s my girl! Screw them baby, let’s just live our lives!”

You get ready and head out for a walk into town, you end up finding a street market and shop for things for dinner. It's so wonderfully cliched and normal; walking hand in hand, his arms around you, his face buried in your hair breathing you in. You barely notice if people are looking at you or not.

You head into your favourite pizza place for lunch and hear a massive roar of clapping and whooping when you walk in. You look over in the direction it’s coming from and it’s Iris, Sadie and a bunch of your other friends.

“Oh crap, that’s all my friends. I promise I didn’t know they were here!” You turn to Ivar and say, he just laughs at you.

“Shall we join them?” He asks. You smile and nod at him, he seems quite relaxed about it.

You head to the table and Iris stands up, walks straight past you and pulls Ivar in for a crushing hug.

“Don’t worry about me, Iris. Jesus!” You laugh. Sadie heads over and gives you a hug.

“So nice to see you, stranger! I had forgotten what you look like, it’s been weeks,” Sadie says to you, a slight scold in her tone.

“I know, I’m sorry, it’s been a very weird few weeks. All of the attention has been making me super uncomfortable,” you admit to her quietly. You look over to Iris who is still hugging Ivar.

“Iris, do you want to put him down?” you joke.

“Not really hun, he’s very huggable,” she pokes her tongue out at you and turns back to him. “You really are very good looking aren’t you?” He laughs, looking at you and a blush covers his cheeks.

“Come and sit down, we've been looking forward to meeting you!” Sadie tells him.

You spend the rest of the afternoon sitting in the restaurant with your friends, eating and drinking. You can tell by the way they react to Ivar that he has won them over, he is relaxed in their presence and hilariously funny. A massive feeling of pride swells in your chest as you watch him charm everyone.

“I must say, Ivar. You don’t seem anything like your reputation.” Sadie giggles at him. He turns towards her with the deepest scowl on his face you have ever seen, his face is tipped down and he is staring at her menacingly through his eyebrows. She lets out a terrified squeal and Ivars face breaks into laughter.

“Jesus, there he is,” Sadie exclaims.

“I’ve been a lot happier recently so the asshole side of me hasn’t come out for a while,” he tells Sadie then looks at you and smiles. You can almost hear Sadie swoon. You actually hear Iris pretend to puke then laugh. You smile back at him, blushing.

When it’s time to leave, Ivar warmly hugs everyone. “Iris, I will pass on your number to Hvitserk” and winks at her. You look at her quizzically.

“Oh, you think you're the only one that can pull a Lothbrok?” she retorts, leaving the table in fits of laughter.

It’s dark when you leave, not a photographer in sight.

“We needed that, didn’t we, Y/N?” He asks you.

“We did,” you give him a big kiss, “I’m missing your dick though, this is the longest we’ve been together without you being inside me. Let’s go home.”

—————-

“So, this annual ball thingy at his company is coming up and he’s been practically on his knees begging me to go for the last two weeks,” Sadie and Iris look at you curiously.

“Yeah, so what’s the issue?” Iris asks.

“There’s a red fucking carpet, that’s the issue. Apparently loads of famous people go every year,” you say with a worried look on your face. Iris squeals in excitement.

“No Iris, it’s not a good thing. It’s terrifying. What if I trip over, what if I have a nip slip, what if I fuck up in some way and embarrass him, and myself?!” You wave your hands around trying to get your point across.

“Yeah that would be bad,” Iris says seriously, catches the look of shock on your face and bursts out laughing. “Of course you won’t do any of those things! Have you told him you will go? You have to go with him. I will if you won’t,” she winks at you.

“Just do it, Y/N you will be fine,” Sadie says in a soft, encouraging voice.

“I haven’t said yes or no yet, but I have been on the lookout for a dress and I’ve found this..” You take out your phone and show them a picture of a long gown, clinging to the curves of the model beautifully.

“It’s nice, but it’s quite simple,” says Iris with a wrinkle in her nose, you give her a smirk and narrow your eyes the swipe to the next picture.

“YES!!!” they both shout at once! You are showing them the back of the dress, or lack thereof. It’s almost backless, the fabric starting again dangerously close to the model's ass. You nod and smirk at their reaction.

“It's amazing, right?!” You ask them.

“Oh. Oh!! Do you know what would make it more amazing?! I’m going to make you a necklace, a long string of zirconias that you can wear running down your back. Let me, let me!” Sadie pleads.

“Go on, let her, Ivar can use it like a lead in the bedroom after,” Iris says playfully, winking at Sadie. You burst out laughing.

“Not really the intended use for one of my creations but do with it what you will,” Sadie says, trying to be prim and proper but with a devilish glint in her eye.

“Sadie, thanks so much, I would really love that, you know I love all your jewellery.” You blow a kiss at her.

“I’ll get the dress then, I will let him know I am going to go,” you squeal in excitement.

You send him a quick message.

I will go with you to the ball ❤️

His reply is instant.

Good girl 😉

His response has you chuckling. “He’s happy,” you tell the girls.

Chapter 13

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word-wytch · 11 months

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hi! i’m a big fan of dssctm and i was just wondering when you think the next chapter may be ready ?? i hope you’re having a wonderful day :)

hello :)

great question! I am really, truly hoping to have it finished by Sunday or Monday over this long weekend (in the US anyway). I have been busier than normal with work and other irl stuff that has come up over the past few weekends when I typically do the bulk of my writing. However, I don't want to make any announcements or promises just yet, as we are coming up on some critical moments in the story and I want to make sure that the end product is of a quality that I am satisfied with before I post anything.

I will post more updates as I get a better idea of when that will realistically be ✨

#asks #nonie #dssctm #updates

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wandering-night19 · 11 months

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seven sentence sunday

tagged by @jesuisici33

I just worked 3 in a row and then stayed up all day today to be a normal human for my days off, so I haven’t written much. But the wonderful human @lightningboltreader left me the most beautiful comment and it inspired me to spend some time in my hospital au... Sorry it’s super rough right now...

TK hates the 11-11 shift. It manages to mess up his entire schedule. But they had decided it was perfect for precepting Mateo as it would give the new grad a few hours on each shift. It just meant for a busy day as that was prime time in the ER. On day shift the first three to four hours were usually pretty lax and on night shift it usually died down around 1 or 2am. But 11-11 meant all fun all the time on busier days. And considering it was a Monday TK knew he’d more than likely be walking into a shit show.

He’s already feeling suspicious when he sees there’s no ambulance waiting in the bay and the parking lot is looking particularly sparse. He badges in through the ambulance doors and grabs a mask before heading to the nurses station at the front of the department.

tagging @whenshereads @ramblingdisaster73 @rosedavid

#seven sentence sunday #nurse tk #tarlos wip #my writing #hospital au

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webslingingslasher · 6 months

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oh bestie oh bestie

today was insane at work im so glad next sunday is my last day. we had 190 checkouts and it was full of children from sports teams just running wild

and people calling me asking for shit then getting mad. i fucking hate rich people i stg. i just can’t. we can only do so many late checkouts a day anyway but especially on a busier day. and then i get yelled at bc i can’t give another one out. people don’t understand. and we have a later checkout than normal anyway so wtf. it’s in the guidelines as well “it’s up to the hotel”. like between 12-3 housekeeping has to clean all those rooms. i have to have rooms open to people checking in. bc everyone wants to check out at checkout not 7 am on a sunday. she even yelled at my boss about it.

i have a rich friend tho who’s just always gotten what she’s wants. and i expressed this to her before and her reply was “i always get a late check out no matter what” like okay ??

i’m so glad i’m not in bigger city at a bigger hotel. i couldn’t handle it. i get enough attitude with customers i would end up cussing people out.

a lady even called today and asked if our restaurant was open to the public i said yes we don’t own it there’s an entrance outside of the hotel to there and said no the other one

i said you mean the complimentary hotel breakfast? the breakfast buffet? she said yes

NO LMAO you don’t just walk into a hotel in town and go to their breakfast buffet especially when people already do that and there’s 300 guests with all the families

i hate people. i said that at my interview for my new job and they said that’s part of why they hired me.

I HATE PEOPLE 😭 customer service takes it out of you, it's inane that common sense ain't common. so glad you're getting out of there. 190 checkouts would have me clocking out for lunch w no return.

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virtie333 · 11 months

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Oh, boy. Today was my last day off before the rest of my sibs arrive on Sunday, and I work the late shift the rest of the week, so I think I was busier today than when I'm working! I got alfalfa pellets for the big beast, bought flowers, hauled hay for the big beast and unloaded it while he played in the arena. I let him graze, then came home to trim up the front bushes and finally was able to plant the flowers. I almost fell asleep during Wednesday Adoration. Doing laundry now. I was afraid I wouldn't be up to writing tonight, so instead I just completed the outline for my WIP. The end is in sight!

BTW, because I work the late shift tomorrow, my update for Beg will be earlier than normal!

#personal post #writing #fanfiction #damerey

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lindsaywesker · 6 months

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Good morning! I hope you slept well and feel rested? Currently sitting at my desk, in my study, attired only in my blue towelling robe, enjoying my first cuppa of the day (green tea!) Welcome to the weekend!

Wow! Here we are again: Friday! Where did that week go? No, seriously, where did that week go?

First of all, many thanks to everyone that got involved with Throwback Thursday on my page. Yesterday’s word was BIRTHDAY and we all have at least one good memory of a birthday celebration, although birthdays – at my age – are definitely tempered with sadness. Absent friends and all those memories!

On Thursday, I worked, as normal, and today will be even busier. To be honest, most of yesterday was spent thanking people! So many kind and thoughtful birthday messages. Definitely more than a thousand! I definitely haven’t got through them all! I got presents, I got cards, I got phone calls, I got video messages, I got some saucy photos, and I had a video call with a woman I haven’t spoken to in almost 30 years. All and all, a very moving day. I am bloody lucky to have so many good people in my life.

The Trouble asked me what I wanted for my birthday and I said, “Nothing.” What do I need? Nothing. Then, I said, “All I want you to do is cut my toenails.” So, after my shower yesterday morning, that’s what she did. That’s all I really needed.

At about 5.00, my son arrived home from work with goodies he knows I like. First, I gobbled down the honey-roast cashews, and then I polished-off the crispy M&Ms. Not exactly health food but it was my birthday! I’ll do the Cadbury’s Fruit & Nut today with my lunch!

Really hope you can join me tomorrow at 1.00 p.m. for ‘The A-Z Of Mi-Soul Music’: The Letter R (Part Nine). The final part of The Letter R. No more R acts for another three years!

Straight after the show, I will be off to The White Lion. We’re going to have dinner at The White Lion, which is always delicious (Lisa’s Kitchen), and then Stevie and I are going to share the 7.00-10.00 slot. It’s a Scorpio birthday party, mate, nothing too heavy and serious, just happy, horny music! If you are anywhere near Streatham High Road, please pop in for a drink, if only one, then I can grab a selfie with you.

My day of rest will be Sunday. That will make The Mighty Josiah very happy. We’re going nowhere, so we will be at his beck and call. Even if it’s cold, rainy and windy, he will want to go to the local park and, dutifully, Papa will take him.

Have a fabulous and funky Friday! I love you all. You’re probably thinking, “You don’t even know me!” but, if people can hate for no reason, why can’t I love?

#mixcloud #mi soul #dj #music #new blog #lockdown #coronavirus #books #weekend #democracy

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mightbelola · 10 months

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School Sports Day!

It was the 2023 school sport’s day last Sunday. We woke up at 5, started getting ready and everything. Joe was driving us to the stadium slowly. He loved the quiet empty road, how it was still dark outside. Everything was normal to me. I drive every day so I would say Joe needed to drive a little bit faster than that.

I didn’t say that.

We reached the school to pick up someone cool. He needed a ride to the stadium. I would totally tell you who it was, but Taylor Swift taught me to never name names on a paper trail. If you know, you know. He’s in the car, I was pretending to be chill. Joe was going like he’s a rally driver now. We almost took a wrong turn. We laughed it off trying to play it cool in front of the boy, but really it would cost us half an hour when we only had five minutes to spare, and the day would’ve been ruined.

“Would you be OK coming with us all the way to Kuantan?” I asked him that after realizing we’d almost committed a crime.

“A married couple serves jail time for kidnapping a thirteen-year-old boy,” the headline would say. We joked about it. We would pretend our phones were dead and we needed his phone to call his parents, but instead we toss it out the window. “No,” he nervously said, and I laughed almost too hard at that. Of course, wouldn’t it be nice to be out with two boring adults who always stay home, in a comfortable chair and watch television all day?

We got there on time. People were still filling up the stadium getting ready for some sports. “I felt like a clown,” I told the almost abductee and he asked, “Why?” Not a good question because I was wearing a silly skirt and a flower shirt, with a big hat that I refused to put on my head, at a sports event. Which would be a nice look at a beach holiday but isn’t it a bit silly to wear it at the stadium where people would only want to watch gruesome sports and not a fashion show?

Although, it was just a costume for the event, so it would be best if I stop being a wimp and get on with it after Joe had told me I didn’t, during the ten times I had asked, if I looked like I had big toes on my feet. Once I started working on the kids’ costume, I no longer felt like having a red nose and a yellow wig on a big head in a circus. Instead, I felt like an athlete trying to win everything where I race, I jump, I fight but they’re all happening at the same time, and I never know where to put my foot because the track is made of legos, so I trip, and I fall. Then, I get back up. Getting busy and busier, and I forgot where I was.

I remember some faces in the morning. The Mighty Green Team. The team was made of 35 tiny brave souls who got it right away after I yelled at them. The mascot was a cute crocodile holding bunch of flowers. The kid underneath never fails to make me laugh. The princess walked elegantly. She’s walking along the team, right left right left all along. The flag-bearer did his job fluidly, he was smooth. The banner-bearers are two tall boys. One is a runner with a great stamina. They’re as tall as the banner, it blocked everyone’s faces at the back, lol, but they kept the banner straight. The rest of them are the bravest tiny souls. That mighty team, being as tiny and so unathletic as they are, gave the best effort in my eyes. They’re mighty hardworking. They gave their mighty best. They’re not lazy but they’re still behind a mighty slow line. We had the best walk after all. We don’t mind medals. We want ice cream, and we’ll go get it. For some reason, it’s never enough for people who win medals for they always feel the need to be mean and gloat about it.

Right after our mighty green team gracefully walked the runway, I ran to the washroom, got out of the costume, and changed back to being myself. Some familiar faces. I remember hugging a few girls I treasure. There’s this boy who told his 12-year-old sister whom I teach now that he missed me. We don’t talk at all on the phone, I don’t think he’s got one. I called him from far, he saw me, we waved and smiled and that’s it. It was really lovely. I wish him all the best.

I saw a group of boys who were the front flag-bearers. They were looking serious more than I’m used to. They should be serious more often so life for me would be a bit easier. The leader is a natural. He alongside his friends carried the assembly exceptionally well and a teacher couldn’t have been more proud.

I saw two girls with glasses, which I bought birthday gifts for. “I stink,” I reminded them before they went in for a hug. “I don’t care,” one of them said. Two other girls were wearing white t-shirts, helping us out that morning, looking grown up. This girl saw Joe but was too shy to say hi. Joe had told me he saw her too, but they were just looking at each other, oh don’t I love the awkwardness. This other girl told me he looked smart. “Really, even the beard?” I was making sure. Later, I ran into two boys somewhere when I was pathetically running around looking for some lost papers. One of them is the best friend of the almost abducted boy, who got away dissing Joe how Malaysia won 10 – 0 against PNG in football. “If you beat us in rugby, I would’ve been surprised,” was what he would’ve heard from Joe if he wasn’t such a chicken that ran away.

I recognised a lot of runners when I was working. I remember wishing them good luck and cheering them on. One of my green boys, was running 400m in a 4x200m race because for some reason he didn’t pass the baton. He threw up at the finish line looking so deflated, looked up, smiled, and walked away. That was a proud moment. I remember jumping and cheering an athlete from green team who was the front-runner and won the first place, unfazed. A boy from my team ran so fast as Flash and he surprised me. A girl in my team also ran pretty fast ahead of every one else. She was upset when her team didn’t make it in the relay race. I’m pretty sure many others that I know at school ran that morning, but I didn’t see them.

It was so bright at the stadium. It started to rain at one point, but it was short. Joe was working on his laptop at some café. I kept looking for him among the crowds, see if he was there and I got happy when he was. We walked away to sit under a tree and that’s when he told me about everyone he had seen and both of us were revising their names. We’d talk about how different everyone had looked, talked about the race that caught our eyes. Then, I walked back to the place where the athletes set up camp and checked on everyone. I remember hearing the announcements, as I was walking. Best Princess, Blue team. Best Mascot, Blue Team. Best Walk, Blue team. I laughed a little, I wasn’t at all surprised. I knew we won the Best Walk, but it is what it is, I guess. I walked there, everyone was still keeping a happy face after defeat, which made me so proud. So, I said, “See, we did it! We aimed for number 4, didn’t we? That was the goal, remember? If it wasn’t us, then who else?” and everybody laughed. Finally, they announced the Best Team, and as some had guessed it, Blue won the title this year. Red won second, Yellow went down to third and it’s always been the last for us. I congratulated them because they deserved the win, not the Best Walk though, but the Best Team.

I almost regretted my decision to be nice to them because this girl who’s in the Blue Team came to me and asked, “Teacher, are you sad? Are you OK?” I was really confused because I was laughing with the other kids, I wasn’t sad at all, then I realized that she actually was making fun of my team losing to their team. Very cheeky. She’s just like her brother, a cheeky braggart. She ran away too when I was just about to catch her and put her in her place.

Anyways, the day ended there, I helped move some stuffs away, and we drove off to this café in the campus and had a delicious meal for lunch, and it was cheap. The whole drive home was me memorizing what had happened so I can write about it, but I went back home and crashed, instead.

P/s: there was a part in this story which I called “little milkshake” that I feel I needed to take out because some of you couldn’t stop laughing when I read this to you, purple grimace shake?So no, no shake for you.

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wiretchings · 2 years

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memory log #46

sunday, december 15th, 2024 -- 7:21 p.m.

so, um, i finally heard back from elliot.

what’s ironic is that i wasn’t even supposed to work last night, but the sway was busier than usual. y’know, queer people and having to deal with the holidays coming up. it can inspire you to drink more.

well, anyway, we were wiping down the counters and drying the cups, getting ready to close, when elliot came barging through the door. the chimes were in a frenzy after his entrance, shaking in the wake of his presence. he was breathing heavily, the kind of breathing where you can’t lift your head and all your shoulders can do is rise and fall. like mountains, towering over his head in protection. his cheek was bleeding. i just froze, i wanted to run to him but i couldn’t. i held my breath and waited, for anything.

when he was finally breathing normally enough to speak, elliot asked me the last thing i could have possibly expected him to ask. “will you come to my family’s christmas party with me?”

he asked like we’d been seeing each other all this time, like we rose and fell with the sun everyday, kissed each other goodbye before work and welcome back before falling asleep. no explanation, no apology, just an invitation. i just nodded, mouth open but unable to speak. without a word, i took the first aid kit off the wall and sat next to him at one of the booths. elliot watched me the entire time i cleaned his cheek, applied neosporin, and put a rainbow bandaid over the cut. he didn’t wince, hell, he barely blinked. it’s like he couldn’t believe it either.

i asked him to come home with me, if i was going to be his plus-one i thought i at least deserved some answers. but he pushed my arm away gently, told me he needs to take care of something. “how about we do breakfast tomorrow? i’ll be there at 10, okay?” he didn’t even give me the chance to accept or decline, saying all of this while backing out of the door. elliot’s voice growing more distant as he became smaller in the doorway. he waved at sherry, who hasn’t said a word this entire time, and wished her a good weekend.

we went out for bagels this morning. i tried to ask elliot about where he’s been, why he hasn’t called me back at all. he skirted around the questions, making excuses about being busy and always having his phone off, said he likes being hard to reach.

“what about the cut on your cheek last night?”

“what, this? i’m a clumsy bastard, dean, you know that.” he tried to smile, but it failed to meet his eyes.

“then why’d you come in like that? i thought someone was chasing you.”

“would you believe me if i said it was the anticipation of inviting you to the christmas party?”

“no.” his smile fell and an expression of contemplation took over, before locking eyes with me in reassurance.

“listen,” he put my bagel on a napkin and held both of my hands. “there’s nothing you need to worry about, okay? i have things under control.”

i pulled my hands out of his lap and got up, bagel in hand. “i have to go, elliot, i’ll see you at the party.” elliot got up to stop me, but i put my hand up to stop him. “just promise me one thing, okay?”

he nodded vigorously, “of course, anything.”

“until the day of the party, you have to answer my calls. or at least, you have to call me back within the same day. if you don’t, you’re going solo.” he stuck his pinky in the air and promised that he would.

i’m going to call him every day leading up to the party. if he won’t tell me what he’s gotten himself into, i’m going to at least make sure elliot doesn’t get himself killed.

#captain's log #diary entry #writing #words

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lightlycareless · 2 years

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First, it hurts— Chapter X

Summary:

Naoya Zen’in x Fem!Reader

While arranged marriages are not uncommon in the jujutsu community, it was strange to receive a proposal from none other than the Zen’in’s, nonetheless your clan accepted and before you knew it, you were married off to Naoya.

Your new purpose was clear: to serve and submit, to be seen and not heard. To forget any sense of individuality in favor of obeying your husband.

Will this marriage ever flourish into something else? Will it change…for better or for worse?

Chapter warnings: mentions of abuse, violence, suicide, misogyny, somewhat disrespecting authority, and a bit of spooky.

A/N: How exciting is to finally post a new chapter on my ao3!!! I’m a bit nervous, hehe, because it’s been a while since I wrote anything new so I feel like I actually got worse 😥...but I hope you’ll still find it enjoyable 🥺❤

Other thing I have to clarify is that I might have to skip a few updates on Sundays because I’m getting a bit busier with by business (most cons take place on weekends, as well as most of my time lol) but I will absolutely NOT abandon this story 🥰 so no need to worry about that! I’ll just let you know in advance if I won’t be able to update that weekend.

And of course, thank you for your support!!! Your comments, likes/kudos and reblogs motivate me to do better; I wish I could respond to all of them, but since I’m a side-blog I can’t do so (but if it’s ao3 I’m able to reply)

I’ll never get tired of saying this, so I’ll say it again: thank you thank you thank youuuuu 😭❤❤❤

Now, here’s this weeks chapter! Happy reading 🥰

Masterpost ➸ Chapter 11.

Ao3 link.

You were like a dog being trained to follow its owner around in every direction.

Being constantly reminded by Naoya’s actions that you were nothing but an object for his desires, adding that Junko was to take care of you until you properly learned all your wifely duties, as if you were learning new tricks…wouldn’t that comparison be true?

And following that train of thought, just like the dog you felt compared to, you would be rewarded at the end of the day if you behaved like expected. Your treat —contacting your sister.

Hinata, the unexpected ray of hope that came into your life in the darkest of days, a promise of things changing for the better…was soon replaced by a storm when Naoya’s true intentions came to light. He never wanted you to contact her out of the goodness of his heart—no, he just wanted you to push her way and seal your fate as his.

You unconsciously wanted the former to happen; to believe that your family hadn’t abandoned you just yet. But your time at the Zen’in had slowly begun to corrupt you; all the bad things you saw in this house were beginning to seem normal to you, and you couldn’t help but think that your forced isolation was something you deserved in a way, beginning to question your sister’s character.

Would she accept Naoya’s intentions cloaked behind your words? Or would she refute them and confront him directly?

It was useless to dwell on the future when it wasn’t written on paper.

But there was only one thing you were sure about: you wouldn’t be able to speak to her without breaking down in tears.

In a way, you were grateful that Junko’s words would sometimes bring you back to the present. The thought of forcing your family to step back brought you so much sorrow, you began considering ending your life just to take the pain away. At least that way, you wouldn’t have to perform what would be your biggest sacrifice yet.

But at the same time, you wanted to see your sister one last time—hear her voice, know about your father and brother, to see if they were okay before you departed this world.

Thus, you buried the urge to make a decision to occur after Hinata’s meeting. Whatever happened then, would affect the course of the remainder of your life.

For now, you had to continue your tour around the house.

You’ve already gone through the kitchen, the cleaning room, gardens and bedrooms—with the exception of one room, forbidden to enter , Junko said as the two of you passed by it’s door.

You thought Junko's diligence in bringing you to the bedrooms was a bit…odd, since you assumed you were only to serve as Naoya’s wife.

“You’re not below serving others if Naoya-sama allows it” She clarified, as if reading your mind. Her choice of words had to hold back the need to roll your eyes and comment on how noble your husband was being.

Nonetheless, even when you were permitted to tend to Naoya’s brothers and uncles, you were prohibited from following them inside the training grounds and underground facilities.

This decision was the result of their misogynistic beliefs that no woman is capable of being a sorcerer. And if this thought wasn’t infuriating enough, it only worsened when Junko added that you weren’t even permitted to indulge in exercise to keep your body active.

“If you want exercise, cleaning around the estate should be more than enough”

You wanted to scream.

But at the same time, you were glad to not be permitted to enter said grounds. When passing by, curiosity got the best of you and your eyes darted to the open door, managing to catch a glimpse of the insides to finding none other than your husband and a group of men, the Hei unit, (you recalled Naoya telling you one day, back when you two were still at the ryokan and he wanted to seemingly boast of his successes during pillow talk) training.

They seemed to be taking a break, their chest shirtless and coated with a thin layer of sweat after completing a long routine.

Your presence, mostly unnoticed for the most part, allowed you to take a longer look at their surroundings and the exercise equipment they carried; not interested in their physical attributes.

That is, until one of the Hei members caught a glimpse of your figure and rushed to inform his partner besides him. The commotion caused by their murmurs irritated Naoya and he swiftly turned around, after reprimanding them, to see who they were gossiping about, intentions of chastising them for distracting his team evident in his angered golden gaze, only to run silent when noticing it was you.

Your eyes locked onto one another for a few seconds, a silent battle of dominance to see who would look away first; but you had no intentions on sparring against him, and quickly looked away, continuing to follow Junko, who apparently didn’t notice —or cared— about this small interaction.

Even when walking away, you still felt Naoya’s gaze on you, earning a twinge of shame as you tried thinking on anything else but the cocky smirk appearing on his lips you managed to see before looking away.

It didn’t take much for you to assume he was showing you off to his men after you left, his newest acquisition , cementing the ideal of his possession over you.

If spending time at the training grounds entailed spending more time with Naoya and earning unwanted attention from men, then you would happily quit training all together.

Yet, the underground facilities were the complete opposite.

Where in the training grounds you felt ashamed, in the underground you felt threatened.

There was something on the other side of the entrance that evoked an eerie feeling of danger when Junko and you passed next to it.

Perhaps it was the lock made out of talismans that had you on edge; you recognized the combination of seals and scriptures for being used to anchor curses to a specific area without sealing them, like moth to a flame. They were not hard to perform and any sorcerer with basic knowledge of seals could produce them.

Yet, there was an inconsistency with their placement.

These talismans were not recommended to use near humans, as they did not suppress the personality of the curses. This often leads curses to desperately reach out to any unsuspecting passerby, lure them in and latch onto them as possible sources of energy and brutally murder or posses them.

Those who managed to survive often recounted hearing murmurs in the voices of someone hurt, someone whose desperation would send chills to their spine and urge a sense of nobility to reach back and help, only to notice at last second that it was a ruse and end up attacked.

You remembered encountering seals like these in Aokigahara, during a mission you were sent to back when you were a student; this forest had a historical background of holding an unusual amount of ghosts since the very beginnings of Japan, thus, sorcerers found it necessary to do something to regulate the situation.

At first they tried exorcizing all of the curses. It was a direct solution, although a bit tedious, but it was something all sorcerers knew how to carry out. And it worked for a few months, attacks and victim numbers lowered. Everything seemed promising, until months later, the forest was inundated once more with yurei.

It didn’t take long to understand that Aokigahara was infested with an unusual amount of energy that often mesmerized victims who, not knowing any better or were not sorcerers, coerced them to enter the forest; these ghosts would then feast on their energy—never to be seen again.

After much thought and pressure, the sorcerers created a plan: if they weren’t able to get rid of them, they could control them. Thus, they called all ghosts into strategic areas around the forest and kept them isolated with carefully crafted talismans—first of their generation. It was much easier than sealing them, since there was never an exact number of yurei currently residing inside the forest, nor how many were created each season, and much cheaper to maintain.

Their plan was received with a high percentage of success, and it became a generational task to have a sorcerer visit from time to time and check that everything is in order.

That task eventually fell into your hands.

You were sent during tourism season, where attacks would peak thanks to the rising amount of visitors—adding that the forest had also become morbidly interesting to foreigners during these last few years— to check the status of the talismans and change any seal that was broken, aside from creating a new screen to hide their location from civilians.

Whoever was in charge of performing the last checkup did a terrific job, all of the talismans were in great condition and the screen hadn’t deteriorated one bit. You returned back home disappointed, since you eagerly received this mission with the prospect of earning some kind of first-hand interaction with the curses, to see if one of them would try calling out to you and get a chance to prove you were much greater than their flimsy attempts to attack you.

That never occurred, of course; your amount of cursed energy plus skills got you removed from their list of potential victims (if they had one) and focus on someone else, unfortunately for them, it was no one.

Thus, you believed you would never hear them.

That is, until now.

At first it started as a whisper, a breathy voice calling out your name. You initially suspected it had been Junko, who perhaps was set to get your attention on an important matter, and you raised your head, replying to her call. But she denied ever saying your name in the first place and continued to walk alongside the garden.

You blinked a few times as you listed the possible origins of that noise; had it been your ladies? They did reassure you they were to stay close, but the whisper didn’t sound like them, and the last time you saw them was at the kitchen, where they offered some snacks for you to take if you so desired—Junko swiftly swatting your hand away, like an angered cat protecting its food, and told you that you were to eat until dinner.

Your mind went to the rattling leaves of the nearby trees. Today had been a rather windy day and this could lead to people confusing the whistling noises of the wind combing through the branches as something else—but there laid the problem. The noise they made was more like a whistle, not a whisper. Thus, it couldn’t have been the wind.

“Y-Y/N” You heard again, this time much clearer; it was a combination of various male and female breathy voices layered one over the other, not a single tone familiar to you, but the portraying emotion blatantly evident: pain.

You looked around to see if it had been a servant, or perhaps one of Naoya’s men playing a trick on you, but nothing. You were completely alone, the woman accompanying you already far ahead, not noticing you had stayed behind—right by the locked door.

Your head carefully swirled towards the mysterious entrance as the voices who kept repeating your name began to merge with one another, the chorus diminishing by each passing second.

Forgetting these were curses, you unconsciously began to inch closer and closer to the door, in efforts of getting a clearer listen to whoever was calling you, effectively throwing all jujutsu teachings of not engaging a curse unless prepared, or at least, recognizing the curse first.

With your attention solely focused on the contents on the other side of the door, you eventually noticed the majority of voices had disappeared, with only 3 remaining, now 2…1…

“Help me!”

Realization hit you like a bucketful of ice as you finally recognized the owner of the voice.

It was you .

Stumbling backwards, your eyes widened as you placed your hand over your chest taking deep breaths in attempts to lower the intensity in which your heart was beating and regain control over your body.

Sure, you’ve heard of experiences where people often hallucinated with themselves, whether seeing a physical representation of their figure or listening to their voice, but no amount of anticipation could prepare you for the real deal.

In efforts to subdue the horror and replace it with logic, your mind entered a state of disbelief as it began questioning the veracity of its surroundings.

The human body had never seen itself outside of reflections or pictures, there was a theory that if it was possible to do so, it would not recognize itself.

And that's exactly how you felt. You knew it was your voice, it sounded just like you after all; from the way you enunciated the vocals to the intensity of the tone, it was a carbon copy of your speech. But your mind failed to assimilate it was you .

How could it? Your conscience was in this body, your heartbeat was resonating in your ears and your blood was rushing through your body, slightly trembling at the threat before it. All signs that you were pretty much alive and real.

But your weakened state of mind, thanks to the abuse Naoya forced you to endure, alongside Mariya’s betrayal, Hinata’s absence and Junko’s indifference, had pushed you to warp your sense of reality, and you began to consider the possibility of perhaps…you were on the other side of the door.

Thus, your body shifted towards the direction of your voice and stepped forward, propelling your arm upwards, stretching your hand towards the metal lock hanging by the knob. No key necessary, just a bit of cursed energy would do the trick to make all the talisman come undone—

“Please—” your supposed voice ran hollow in the depths of your mind as you began concentrating a small amount of energy on the tip of your fingers.

“̝͇͍H̹̠͔e̬̭̠̹̖̯̘͠l̨̫͇̭͖̝p̟͕̠̝̕…̘̰͎̣̤̠̬͡u̳͉̮̰̯͕̟s͈͎̠…҉̙̭̝̱!̻”̰̜̮̹ͅͅ

“Y/N!” Junko cried as she quickly grabbed your hand and pulled you back with an unforeseen strength no one would’ve thought her capable of due to her thin complexion. Her actions, fueled by frantic thoughts, were enough to snap you out of their illusion and realize the atrocity you were to commit.

Junko had kept a close eye on your every moment, trying to avoid a situation like this from occurring. Ironically, the one second she peeled her gaze from you, you went ahead and did the unthinkable. But instead of earning her concern, like a frightened mother who thanks to her fast reflexes managed to prevent a catastrophe, you earned her judgment—disappointment that painted you as a woman incapable of keeping her hands to herself or following orders. A strike against Naoya’s favor.

“You are to never enter those premises!” She yelled, her tone strict and demanding, and you felt minimized. Her eyes were painted with anger, her brow furrowed and a drop of sweat sliding down the side of her face out of frustration. But underneath that raging emotion, there was a subtle layer of fear. Not for you though, but for her own sake.

Junko was very aware that even if there was animosity between you and your husband, but, the moment you got injured and Naoya was made aware of it, she would be punished in a way that would never allow her to forget what got her in that predicament in the first place.

Because, even if the two of you were married women, you held a position much higher than hers, and your value was greater.

“I-I’m sorry I just—I just heard something” words stumbling upon one another as you worked to explain your lack of tact, but she took no interest in your excuse.

“I don’t care!” Junko snapped as she continued to pull you away from the enigmatic entrance and headed towards the main wing, her grip on unrelenting—your hand turned from various shades of red, until it became white. Once Junko considered the area safe, she released her grasp on you—now fingers imprinted on your arm. “You’re never to enter those doors if you know what’s good for you”

“I—“

“Quiet!” She yelled, you froze. “Stop acting like a child! Naoya-sama has no use for a woman who won’t follow simple orders, so I advise you to start behaving like a proper wife!”

You didn’t have to be told twice to understand that your next words would be labeled as out of place. Thus, you swallowed and pushed down the cathartic need to tell her what you’ve experienced.

Instead, you looked down at the floor and closed your eyes, pressing your eyelids to hold back the tears that were threatening to fall.

“I’m sorry” you gave one last murmured apology, which she did not acknowledge and simply turned around, ordering you to —this time— follow her closely .

From that moment forward, you felt guilt and fear accompany your every step.

The woman who you cataloged as demure and soft spoken had a sudden shift of personality, and all thanks to your fault. Back when she was willing to look at you to corroborate you understood her words, now didn't even dare look at you.

You wanted to mend things, have her understand that it was a small incident, one that didn’t root from malicious intentions, but to no avail.

And her uninterest only heightened your sorrow.

Perhaps it was your warped sense of survival that led you to latch onto the smallest display of tranquility; any opportunity you could get to be at peace from others' misdeeds, you would desperately cling to it.

Having been constantly bombarded with the reminder that you were not deserving of attention, her decision to extend the already prominent emotional distance between came to no one’s surprise, and you felt it was the bare minimum of what a proper punishment was.

Nonetheless, even with the amount of disappointment you found yourself drowning in, it was not enough to clear the lingering thought of your haunted experience .

It is one of those things that you only get to realize how serious they are until they happen to you. Only then one would understand the sheer horror others experienced.

Your mind ran through the same scenario over and over again, attempting to find the use the Zen’in could possibly give to those curses. No other clan had curses sealed so close to the nuclear home, let alone around civilians. They were located in the center of the estate for god’s sake! If it isn’t for training, then what is it for?!

The more you thought of it, the more paranoid you grew, to the point where you began to feel ovwheledbed by the sensation of being followed, alongside a pair of shadows that appeared at the corner of your eye. Your eyes darted to the last area you saw the dark figures, only to find nothing. You moved one, closer to your destination and you would see them again, only to seek them out receiving the same results.

The idea of something latching onto you after your small encounter began to circulate your mind. But you should’ve seen it by now—right? Curses untraceable to the sorcerer's eye were uncommon, very rare to find, but not unheard of. Just what kind of threat did the Zen’in hide in the depths of their home?

By the time Junko stopped, you had failed to realize she’d taken you to the north wing of the estate, the area usually deployed for administrative and political matters, a place where no woman must be found.

The woman silently guided you to a small room on the far right side of the wing.

“Wait here” She entered and shut the door behind her. Leaving you dangerously alone with your thoughts.

You looked around. The area was relatively quiet, with no servants or members on sight, except for the singing birds on the trees nearby and the fish by the pond. It was a silence and sight that would be delightful to anyone who wanted a moment of peace after a frantic day at work, but the downfall to someone who had their mind crowded with dark thoughts.

If anything, this place was the center of all miseries, doomed futures and twisted men; women who had no place but below or behind them, alongside dangerous otherworldly creatures that had nothing but harm in their—

Thud thud thud

Thoughts abruptly interrupted, everything around you seemed to go quiet, except for that sudden noise.

With the hair from the back of your neck standing up; your heart began to slowly regain it’s quick pace, beating heavily against your chest as another set of chills traveled through your spine.

In reality, the sound was soft enough to pass unnoticed, intermingled with the seasonal greetings of birds singing or water flowing in the pond before you, but due to your paranoid state of mind, you managed to hear as if it occurred right next to you.

You quickly pinpointed the origin of the commotion from around the corner; your eyes hesitantly moving to that direction held your breath as you tried to get a better listen.

THUD!

You flinched and your body quickly adopted a defensive stance by tensing its shoulders and clenching your fingers.

This time, the noise was louder, closer to your position and by instinct, you immediately placed your back against the wall, attempting to minimize your presence and pass undetected from the possible perpetrator.

Silently and slowly, you began to inch closer and closer to the edge of the wall while attempting to place the pieces together—after briefly coming into contact with curses, shadowy figures began to make themselves present. Thus, it would be obvious to assume both incidents were complementary to one another, right? You had no proof, but previous experience in your short career as a sorcerer reminded you that lingering curses that were not properly dealt with often latched onto people and made themselves known by either playing with shadows or calling their name.

This was exactly what you were going through. It had to be a curse, there was no doubt!

Eventually, you came into contact with the other side of the wall and you took no time to scan around for any curses or traces of energy that could mean they were present, from fingertips to footsteps, any indications that meant you were not losing your mind and were, in fact, being tracked down.

Your mind didn’t have space to consider other scenarios, such as a small bird that had fallen from its nest when trying to fly for the first time, or a servant partaking in their duties.

Luckily for you, peace made its way to your psyche when, after a few seconds of observing, found nothing.

You sighed, fear escaping your body through a deep exhale.

Of course it was kind of silly to think a curse would’ve followed you; the Zen’in were brutes, but where not stupid when it came to jujutsu. Of course they wouldn’t allow a curse to stick around, running around like it owned the place, especially when there’s lots of civilians around.

It was refreshing to think you weren’t being followed—one less thing to worry about.

You sighed once more and closed your eyes in efforts to relax for a few seconds. Undoubtedly, stress was making its way to your mind and had you hearing, seeing things. You couldn’t wait for the moment Junko set you free from your responsibilities for the day and allowed you to rest again on your bed—alongside Naoya .

You frowned at the thought of sharing a bed with your despicable husband, and immediately shifted your thoughts to Hinata, the main reason why you were holding on.

Clearing your throat, you began to head back to your initial spot, wondering if Junko had finished doing whatever it was she was doing and what other places you’d—

Creeeeeaaak

Your eyes shot to the direction of the creak, and there, saw something that horrified you.

A small, pale hand had begun to creep from inside a nearby chamber.

Your jaw clenched as the hand carefully placed it’s thin fingers around the shoji door and began to slide it open, agonizingly slowly—almost a millimeter per second.

Your heart’s continuous efforts— having not been able to catch a break— made your ears throb and your chest ache, making it even harder to focus on the impending danger before you. Your vision blurred as you realized there was indeed a curse nearby and you had neither the weapons nor the preparation to defend yourself, or Junko for that matter.

Mind galloping a thousand miles per minute, your body shifted back towards Junko’s direction, mind set on getting her away first, move her to somewhere safer, and inform Naoya there was a curse on the loose. You didn’t care if speaking to him would cause you to be berated later on, there was a civilian who needed protection, and your ethical code as a sorcerer was to protect those weaker than you, even if it cost you your—

“What are you doing?”

Junko’s face came way sooner than you expected, her presence stopping you dead on your tracks; but with no seconds to waste, you regained your purpose and swiftly grabbed her hand to pull her away, contrary to the direction of the pale hand.

“There’s a curse around the corner!”

“What ?”she replicated in disbelief.

“It’s true! You can’t be here, it’ll attack you first if it sees you” You continued to explain, each step becoming harder to take as Junko adamantly tried to free herself from your grasp.

“Unhand me this instant!”

“I can’t—I have to get you somewhere safe!”

“I don’t care!” She cried, and one harsh thug later, she was free from your hand. You gasped as Junko headed back to the spot where you saw the supposed curse, fueled by anger to prove you wrong.

“Junko-san, no, wait !” When she turned around the corner, your body ran cold as you began to imagine the worst. A woman like her, who had dedicated all of her life tending the work of a house, had no preparation to deal with threats like this; even when growing around people who did. If you didn’t intervene, she would suffer the worst way possible! You still had a few seconds to save her, you just had to get to her quickly, just around the corner—! “Junko!”

And then…nothing.

You expected to find a bloodied battlefield, pieces of her clothing scattered around the ground, perhaps a few limbs here and there if the curses opted to take part of her body; but no. Instead, you found a very angered Junko, far more upset that you’ve ever seen her. Red-faced, fiery gaze locked onto yours as she barely held back the desire to scream out her frustrations.

And the pale hand…gone. The shoji door closed.

“I–”

“Are you well, Y/N?”

You knew that tone very well, and embarrassment became apparent on your cheeks in the form of a red streak, making your face turn even brighter. It’s only then that you realized how ridiculous you must’ve looked, even if what you saw was true, and how distorted the image she had of you had become.

This couldn’t mean well once Naoya was made aware of this.

“I…I’m just tired” you murmured and looked away, your last attempt to persevere whatever of your sanity was left. You weren’t necessarily lying, since you haven’t been able to get a well deserved rest ever since you married Naoya, but you didn’t think stress had already influenced you enough to start hallucinating…or to get you acting frantically, like a recently-discovered sorcerer.

“Let’s—just continue with your duties” You don’t know what prompted Junko to keep her cool, but were grateful she decided to take a calmer route.

But her reasoning was not one you would be fond of; the idea of pregnancy-induced stress flashed through her mind, inciting her to go easy on you this time. Nonetheless, she would now keep an even closer eye on you.

“There’s still one more thing to do” Junko said as she signaled you to the room where she previously was. You peered inside, where a small wooden table alongside a chair of the same material, stood in the middle of the room. And on top of it, just besides a lamp—a phone.

You didn’t think it was possible for your heart to drop even further into your stomach when you realized what it was time for, but with all things accounted for, why wouldn’t it?

Each time you were sent over the edge, your limit would expand, and that would allow your emotions to be overwhelmed at a higher frequency. At this point, it was a surprise you hadn’t gone through a heart attack.

And talking about your heart, which had gone through various peaks of stress throughout the day, now felt like it was on it’s last runs. Any second now , you mused, I’ll faint, and if I wake up…I don’t want to wake up .

But your survival instinct wasn’t one to give up easily, and by a miracle —even when your head started to become dizzy and your feet struggled to keep you up— you managed to walk over to the desk, where Junko had already picked up the phone from its base and handed it to you. If she noticed your illness, she did not comment.

“Naoya-sama already informed me of the reason for this call. If you try anything out of the ordinary, I’ll know and I won’t be afraid to put you on your place and let him know”

“That won't…be necessary” you breathed, trying to take in as much oxygen as possible for your brain to not blackout.

“We shall see” Looking down to the dial through blurred vision, you force yourself through the pain of pressing the combination of numbers pertaining to your home out of memory.

Junko observed carefully, wanting to make sure you weren’t calling any other number that could compromise their position and hummed in approval when the other line started beeping.

You swallowed as you psyched yourself to play the role of ditzy sister, one that didn’t mean to frighten by cutting all communication with her siblings but did so anyway without taking into consideration their feelings. One that would be of Naoya’s approval and obtain the meeting he desired to complete.

You were pushed through so many things at one, and this was only the beginning of your life as Naoya’s wife—could it get any worse from here onwards?

The phone beeped a few more times than what either anticipated, and Junko began to think that perhaps they weren’t available at the moment.

Preparing herself to take the phone away and ask you to try again later, she abruptly stopped when a voice came through the other side of the line.

A response that had the world stopping around you; as you prepared yourself to act the fool.

“L/N Residence?”

╳╳╳╳╳╳╳╳╳╳╳╳╳╳╳╳╳╳╳

Hinata was someone many would consider unwavering and of strong character. Assertive —not afraid of calling out anyone on their wrong doings, but caring enough to show them how to do better.

Selfless and reliable. Whatever was asked of her, she would perform.

This led many to think of her as one of the most valuable sorcerers amongst the community, thus, forcing her to carry the highest number of missions per season.

And Hinata didn’t really care, in fact, she was more than happy to know that the jujutsu community trusted her to that extent. Never saying no to any request, even outside of formal missions.

It was with this mentality that she considered perhaps, being selfish for once, would be forgivable.

Her sister and family were in dire need of help, and in order to do something, they needed all of her attention. Thus, she wrote a request to jujutsu headquarters, asking for her missions to be transferred to her brother, Ren, who was more than interested in helping her sister, also turned in a request to take on her missions in hopes to show how serious they were.

Certainly, after all she’s done for the community, they would grant her this one favor, right?

Wrong

When a letter came back in response to her request, Hinata assumed she was granted permission and proceeded to excitedly open the envelope—only to rip it apart when she read the following contents.

To whom it may concern.

We are sorry to inform you that the request submitted by L/N HINATA was rejected.

We understand that this is the first time she has requested a change of this nature in her short—but impressive—career as a sorcerer, but due to the ongoing crisis of rising curse attacks, we find ourselves not being able to allow a single sorcerer to not carry out missions.

Nonetheless, we’ve come up with two solutions that we find might benefit your situation, and we hope you take them into consideration:

We will allow the maximum amount of 2 (two) missions to be transferred to another sorcerer of your choosing. (as long as they agree.)

Submit another request in 6 months.

We also want to take this time to commend L/N HINATA’s continuous efforts on maintaining peace amongst civilians and sorcerers, as well as to congratulate her sister on her recent marriage.

We hope to continue receiving your aegis.

Department of missions and expeditions, Tokyo, JPN.

Signed, Yoshimoto Osamu.

“Rejected?!” Hinata yelled at the top of her lungs, disbelief and skepticism pouring through her words “What do you mean rejected?!”

“I’m—sorry” A servant, and her close confidant of hers, tried easing her nerves, but to no avail. Hinata was reasonably upset by their rejection, but what irked her the most was how they cheekily congratulated you for your marriage, as if it would lessen the blow.

“It’s fine, it’s not your fault, Sumire.” Hinata sighed, rubbing the sides of her temples with her fingers. “But can you believe this?! After all I’ve done for them, they can’t even grant me this one request. And they even dared congratulate Y/N for her disgusting union with that Zen’in brat—in what world do they live in?!” She added, waving the letter into the air before deciding on ripping it apart. Sumire collected the torn pieces of paper and threw them in a trash can nearby.

“I think it might be because she married a Zen’in. They’re very influential amongst the community, perhaps they thought congratulating her through you might earn them points in their favor”

“Hah! That has to be the dumbest thing I ever heard—no offense”

“None taken” she laughed back, knowing Hinata didn’t meant to insult her, but rather, the naivety jujutsu headquarters presented with that mentality “But I do know what you mean”

“...and Gojo isn’t any better” Hinata scowled “Suddenly, he’s also inundated with missions and can’t make time to see me; but sure, he can go out in his daily hook-ups with no problem”

Sumire kept quiet for a few seconds, analyzing one of the many reasons why Gojo now decided to keep Hinata away, but nothing came to mind. He could be mysterious that way, when he wasn’t being silly, of course.

Instead, she decided to focus on a more serious topic, one that she’d constantly heard through the grapevine.

“Is the crisis really that bad?”

Hinata looked away, her thoughts back on to the last missions she’s completed and what they all had in common: Geto —or at least someone working under his name— was the author behind them.

After all, it had only been around 4 years since he decided to go rogue and disturb the jujutsu peaceful community—his actions left most of the sorcerers questioning what was holding them back from falling into villainy, if it weren’t by their moral standing, and more decided to join his cause.

The crisis many suspected would last around 2 years, started to lengthen by this same reason.

This put an enormous pressure on all that decided to stay behind and defend civilians—but Gojo, who had been the closest one to him, had to make the hardest decision.

Many didn’t consider the emotional turmoil he was going through, and instead of offering a supportive hand or empathetic words, simply dumped most of the responsibilities on him; being the strongest had its perks, but in this situation, it only seemed detrimental for him. This was one of the reasons Hinata and Ren decided to take on much more missions than usual, hoping that it would alleviate some pressure off his shoulders; yet trouble never seemed to rest, to the point where they went through months without being able to come back home.

If Sumire didn’t hear it from her, she would hear it from someone else. It was better for her to know via someone she trusted, in a more controlled environment.

“Yes; it’s been terrible”

Nonetheless, Hinata couldn’t help but think that many who had an evil seed in them, thought of the crisis as the right time to let out all of their frustrations. Could Naoya have taken advantage of this situation to hurt your family?

Sumire’s face contorted to fear and Hinata immediately regretted admitting the situation the jujutsu community found themselves in and rushed to calm her down.

“But don’t worry! We’ll manage. Ren is working very hard and—well, I shouldn’t be that angry that they rejected my request, I do have to care for my community after all. I’m sure Y/N would’ve understood” Hinata laughed nervously, trying to soothe Sumire’s worries with a bright grin. The servant nodded back in acknowledgement, suddenly remembering how strong the siblings truly were, a smile appearing on her lips as she really never had anything to worry about.

“What will you do now?” Sumire queried, tilting her head to the side, her big round eyes looking up to Hinata’s deep-in-thought face.

“I…guess I’ll take their proposal and assign 2 of my missions to Ren, it wasn’t what we agreed on, but it’ll give me some time to–”

“Sumire! Sumire!” A frantic voice followed by loud footsteps called from outside the room.

It didn’t take long before the author behind the calls soon came barging in through the door, spreading the shoji as far as possible and looking around the room for Sumire. “There you are, where is—Hinata-sama!”

“What’s wrong?!” Hinata exclaimed, reasonably concerned to see another servant, Hibiki, ruby-red faced and breathless. He leaned against the door, trying to catch his breath as he pointed to a spot outside the room.

“It’s—It’s Y/N! We got a call from her just now, she’s on the phone!” Hinata and Sumire exchanged surprised looks, and without further comments, the two rushed towards the room with the nearest phone—a wireless gray telephone placed on hold.

Hinata picked it from its base and held it against her right ear, urging Sumire to check if there were no unwanted bystanders and close the door. The last thing she wanted was for her father to casually wander through the halls (although he hasn’t moved much from his room since her confrontation, but at least he stopped drinking) or for the elders to catch ear of Y/N’s call and interfere with her investigation. Although the timing of the call was odd enough as it was…

Hinata took one last deep breath, before clicking on the hold button and greeted her missing sister.

There was much catching up to do.

“Hello?”

“Hinata”

“Y/N! Where have you been? Are you ok? Is everything alright–”

“Yes! Yes, I’m sorry I wasn’t able to contact you before; but I’m here now” Her voice, although a bit distorted by the static from an old phone speaker, was clear enough to be interpreted as fearful. This only deepened Hinata’s concern. “Just busy getting accustomed to my new life, that’s all!”

“We were worried…you didn’t respond any of the messages”

“Oh, I know…I didn’t mean to worry you. The Zen’in have a huge house, I’d be surprised if you didn’t get lost!” a nervous laugh; your sister was now sure you were not alone whilst making this call. There was no way you didn’t notice how long you were gone. But she wasn’t foolish enough to go ahead and ask you that directly. “Talking about the estate…”

“Yes?”

“I want you to come visit me”

Hinata’s throat constricted as she struggled to choose the right words to respond.

The words she wanted to hear for so long, the chance to finally see you, now coming out of your mouth, yet they felt…wrong. It’s like you didn’t mean them genuinely, like you were reading them from a nearby book or paper. And Sumire’s concerned face meant she thought the same.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes!” You responded, cheerfully even. Did you notice how suspicious you sounded, and was now trying to cover it up? “I just thought it would be better to talk in person. You know, I haven’t been able to contact you because I just got back from my honeymoon and settling down in a new place is always so hard–”

“What about my text messages?” Hinata interrupted your rambling. If you didn’t have it in you to tell her what she wanted to hear, then she’ll do it herself. “I know you’ve seen them”

“I’ll explain everything when you’re here. When can you come?”

Hinata gave a long and hard thought to the available dates she could travel; it was far from the ideal scenario she envisioned having when you finally reached out, but in a way, felt like it was the best outcome. This way, she would be able to confront you, alone, no one else peering over your shoulder when talking to her. Just two sisters trying to reconnect.

With one sigh intertwined with determination and a twinge of economic regret, she dictated:

“Tomorrow”

“Alright. We’ll see you here”

“Y/N wait–!”

But it was too late, before Hinata could fit in another word, you’ve already hung up. All that was left behind were the beeping noises coming through the phone, indicating the line had been promptly closed and the nervous looks Sumire was darting between your sister’s face and the telephone.

Both women, too busy assimilating what just occurred to do anything else, stood speechless as the air around them began to fill with tension. Your call, prompted out of nowhere, had been short and to the point. You didn’t even take the time to ask about her or your brother…your father…nothing.

This wasn’t like you— at all. If anything, it seemed like you were reciting a script, from the way you faked your laugh to the mannerisms in your speech. But ask fake as that sounded, it was still you, there’s no doubt about it. It was your voice.

“Is…everything alright, Hinata?”

“No” she frowned, but Hinata wasn’t one to dwell too much into the past and her mind began recounting the fastest way to travel. “Nothing is alright…but it doesn’t matter. I’ll buy the earliest airplane ticket to Kyoto—no matter the cost— and see what is going on with my sister. I’ll deal with the place to stay once I’m there”

“Do you want me to tell Ren? Or your father?”

“It’s tempting but…it’s too early for them to get involved. Sumire, keep an eye on the elders and if they say anything about the bank statement, because I know they will , just tell them I had a last-minute mission to take care of”

She bit her lip and nodded eagerly, taking in her new duties; but more than a servant who was obediently following her master’s requests, Sumire was looking out for a dear friend. She, too, loved you very much.

“It’s time to end this ruse”

╳╳╳╳╳╳╳╳╳╳╳╳╳╳╳╳╳╳╳

A few hours later, after going through the tedious work that is airport clearance and picking up her small luggage, Hinata was on her way to the Zen’in estate.

There were moments where she thought that visiting you tomorrow was a mistake, a logistic miscalculation (and an economic punishment for her bank account) one that would linger heavily in her mind—but then, the urge to see you, to know about your wellbeing and rescue you quickly overwrote those lethargic musings and went forward with her plan. Even with the accumulating expenses that began skyrocketing in numbers, that didn’t stop her. If her money wasn’t there to help her sister, then what use did it have?

Luckily, she managed to book a room in a hotel relatively close to the Zen’in estate. Only 20 minutes away by car, perhaps a bit more since they lived almost at the outskirts of the city and animals tended to cross the roads and stop traffic, but if everything occurred as planned, then she would be able to see you for the first time in 3 weeks.

With no time to spare for sleep, Hinata placed her bags on the cheapest, minimalist room she found, ( I just need a bed and a bathroom , she said to the receptionist who was adamant in booking her in a room with a balcony, plus unnecessary add-ons to make her stay more pleasant ) and called the taxi service.

It was a relatively quiet ride, even when the driver tried to ease the tension settling in the air by commenting on the surrounding tourist locations, hoping to intrigue interest and maybe, more work to get paid for, but Hinata had no intentions on entertaining him, her mind solely focused on you.

He eventually offered to play music, turn on the radio, just about anything to alleviate the nerves of her shoulders (and perhaps soothe himself as well, as her silence began to inundate him with 2 possibilities: your sister was a ghost, or she was going to kidnap him), but all attempts were shut down by your sister's quiet no, thank you’s and if you’d like to hear something, go ahead .

Eventually, just on the top of the furthest hill up north, surrounded by massive trees and abundant rivers, the Zen’in estate became apparent to all eyes inside the car. Even when enclosed by the vegetation native to the area, it still remained imposing and prominent.

The architectural design of the estate brought an air of royalty and power, enough to imply that whoever lived there was far from poor and had more than enough to spare, but not humble enough to offer shelter to wandering souls who misjudged the estate as a ryokan.

“We’re almost here” the driver announced, and Hinata looked up from her phone—which she had used to distract herself to make the trip shorter, as well as to check if no one had managed to figure out her whereabouts, she’d thank Sumire for that later— to the window before her. The sight of the building where you were locked away brought her a new wave of anxiety and eagerness—one rooted in the prospect of being so close to seeing you once again.

Once at the top, it only took a few more minutes of driving along the paved road before the entrance to the estate became visible.

Two wooden doors, as tall as the nearby trees, proudly stood adjacent to the main road. The Zen’in clan symbol is engraved on a pillar beside them, continued by stone walls surrounding the property, nothing can be seen through them except for the branches of the trees peeking through the top.

Hinata looked at the driver and took out a few bills from her wallet, amounting to the price he’d initially stated the ride would cost, plus an extra, and informed him to wait; for she’ll need a ride back to the hotel once she was done. The man nodded and received the bills with a glimmer in his eye, replying:

“Take your time, I’ll wait for you here”

She nodded and closed the door behind her once completely out.

Hinata wasn’t one to be known as frequently nervous, but visiting a strangers land had her agitated, and her hands searched comfort by playing with the strap of her bag. She took quick steps towards the door and reached for the door-knocker, a large and heavy bronze hoop protruding from the right side of the entrance. Hinata picked it up with one hand and slammed it against the rectangular piece of the same material below it, 3 loud bangs trembled across the door and then—silence.

Your sister was counting the seconds to when the door would open. After 10, she was motivated to knock again until she heard shuffling on the other side of the entrance, someone unlocking the door and slowly pushing it open. There, the face of a young servant came forward, eyes locking into each other’s gaze, face void of any emotion; Hinata was unsettled by the look of the young woman before her. A twinge of ire began to sprout in the depths of her mind as she imagined the conditions she could only assume the Zen’in forced her to work in—would she find you in this state as well?

Her thoughts were cut short as the servant motioned her inside, Hinata took one last look to the outsides, back to the taxi driver who was all too happy recounting the bills he just received, and finally stepped inside.

“Welcome, L/N-san, we were waiting for you”

It’s time to reveal the truth.

╳╳╳╳╳╳╳╳╳╳╳╳╳╳╳╳╳╳╳

The night before your sister's arrival, you did not get a wink of sleep.

Twisting and turning around the futon, your mind ran a thousand miles an hour as you recounted the conversation you had earlier with your sister through the phone, and the horrifying experience that rattled your sense of reality.

Without any surprise, your sister was quick to notice there was something wrong in the way you spoke, but her questions were not to be answered that moment; not with Junko peering over your shoulder to check if you were saying the right things, not giving out any hints of your mistreatment.

Naoya was visibly pleased to hear that your sister had agreed to come over to the estate, and in such a short notice too, but failed to see how all of these quickly occurring successions could rid you of a good night's sleep. And apparently Junko decided to keep your little scare private from Naoya, evident by how he didn’t comment on it when eating dinner together, or later at night, when the two of you were in the privacy of your shared chambers.

Nonetheless, you still managed to irritate him by your constant movement across the bed and he eventually snapped, ordering you to get yourself together or to sleep on the floor. You sheepishly apologize, not giving him reasons for your agitation, and excused yourself to the bathroom, where you would splash a bit of water onto your face in hopes of refreshing your tense façade as well as to take, much needed look into the mirror.

The woman who greeted you back was a stranger.

She was nothing but the shadow of who used to be: a young, cheerful, full of life, energetic woman. One that had a whole promising future ahead, someone that had the opportunity to choose whatever she wanted to do, supported by those who loved her dearly.

But now, you were stripped of those characteristics, relegated to being the wife of an heir and nothing else; but far from enjoying the luxury that title usually conveyed, you were forced to sit back, stay quiet, cast away any desire in favor of your husbands and leave your future in the hands of strangers.

It was blatantly obvious in your face that you were far from happy—Hinata would certainly notice and push you further into answering her demands. But Naoya didn’t intend the meeting to go that way, you had a part to play if you wanted to satisfy him.

Thus, you forced a smile on your lips, rehearsing the look you would give your sister when seeing her for the first time in 3 weeks, and prayed she would believe you before going back to bed with your husband.

The next morning, just like every day, your ladies picked you up from the room and led you to the bathroom.

They heard of your sister’s visit just moments earlier, and although they didn’t know much about the relationship you had with your family —or if you had any at all since you kept quiet in allot of matters pertaining to your life before the Zen’in— nonetheless, they still treated it like a special occasion and dressed you up another beautiful yukata , this time pink and with white embroidery, courtesy of Hitomi.

To your surprise, Haruko kept unusually quiet as she tended to your hair; but would occasionally throw a few cheerful comments here and there, thus, you didn’t give it much thought, perhaps she wasn’t feeling very well this morning.

Mariya didn’t speak much either way, but still gave you a reassuring smile—one that fell deaf to your acknowledgement, still wounded by her betrayal.

Hitomi was always quiet, but blushed and thanked you when you complimented her work.

Once ready, your ladies-in-waiting took you to a garden in a section you briefly visited with Junko days prior, on the south side of the estate.

It was spacious, filled with a mix of daisies and lilies, a combination you didn’t know was in season, yet, took time to appreciate its beauty.

In the middle of the garden, stood 2 stone benches and a small table, one that you assumed was rarely used since it was covered in dirt—promptly removed with the help of Hitomi and a piece of cloth.

You carefully walked all the way to the center of the garden and sat down on one of the benches, you spread the skirt of your yukata downwards until it was fixed, and looked up to your staff.

“We’ve been informed that your sister is already here.” Mariya said, while Haruko placed a cup of tea before you, to calm your nerves , she said.

Your ears perked at the sudden information and your shoulders tensed with yearning.

“Naoya-sama will join you momentarily” The 3 women gave a courteous bow and left the same way they entered, leaving you with the flowers as companions.

Somehow, Naoya’s presence in your meeting with Hinata did not come as a surprise. If he wanted things done correctly, then he must be present, or at least that’s what he must’ve considered when arranging this gathering. He didn’t speak to you that morning, and in fact, he didn’t even indulge in his perverted fantasies last night, which took you as another surprise.

He instead opted to keep his thoughts and hands away from you, as he prepared to change himself for the day and share breakfast with you.

Perhaps he too, was too nervous to think about anything else that wasn’t your sister.

Nonetheless that silence was temporary, once the deed was done, he would go back to torment you, now without restraints—your family effectively out of sight.

Hearing footsteps approaching from your right side, you quickly turned around to see who it was; in the back of your mind you hoped it was your sister, only to be received by the image of a very serious Naoya.

“Your sister is here, you know what that means, don’t you?”

You pressed your lips together and nodded.

“Don’t try to do anything funny , wife. I’ll be quick to put you in your place, in front of your sister, even!” He chuckled, his serious facade now gone, replaced by his usual cockiness, and you suppressed the dark feeling beginning to prosper at the bottom of your stomach. “The servants are bringing her in, I wonder what face she’ll have when she sees you”

And just as he said, another set of footsteps became noticeable; this time, from the left. Your head slowly turned to the origin of the noise, eyes focusing into the depths of the halls, as you knew they could only belong to one person, and one person only. And there…you saw her—Hinata.

Contrary to you, she was not taken aback by the beauty or the garden before her or the decorations around the house, her mind and gaze was solely focused on you, and once she saw you in her reach, rushed towards your figure.

“Y/N!” she cried, ready to embrace you in the tightest of hugs she could possibly give, but was promptly stopped upon noticing the presence of your husband. She, too, was not surprised to see he’d decided to be present during your talk. She cleared her throat and composed herself “I’m…happy to see you. Both of you” Hinata lied through gritted teeth, but her tone managed to paint her words as genuine. Although she didn’t really care if Naoya caught her lie, she just wanted to see you.

“Hello, sister” You greeted, the smile you’ve been practicing hours before making itself visible. Your cheeks coated with moderate amounts of blush, and the faintest amount of lip gloss, had your face looking far more angelic that Hinata remembered, and much more happier than you really were; although with or without makeup, you’d always been her innocent little sister, no fact could change that. “I’m glad you could make it in such short notice! I didn’t think you would be able to come; please, sit down! It must’ve been a quick but tiring trip”

“Anything for you, sis” Hinata replied as she took your invitation and sat down on the bench across from you. Naoya followed suit and sat beside you, his eyes now locked on your sister’s. “It wasn’t that bad. I managed to find everything very quickly”

“Where are you staying?” you asked, swallowing the other questions you wished to ask, and choosing a more natural topic to keep the conversation flowing.

“A small family owned inn. I just needed the basics, I don’t play on staying long”

And I don’t want you to, Naoya wanted to add, but held back his desire by giving her a small smile instead.

“You could’ve told us, we would’ve arranged something for you” Naoya feigned care and this irked Hinata the wrong way.

“Perhaps another time” your sister responded, quickly shutting his offering and focusing on you once more. “Y/N…how…have you been?”

“Me? Oh, good. You know, busy” You shrugged “There’s so many things to do, I just spend most of my time helping the staff around to alleviate some of the duties”

This brought forth an old memory in Hinata’s mind.

She remembers well the time when you were a child, when you would hide in the kitchen, away from the servants in hopes of getting to wash the dirty dishes before them. Even when your older relatives reminded you that it was part of their duties, you countered them, saying:

They take care of me, so I want to take care of them!

It was always in your nature to help others, thus, Hinata became more tranquil when she heard you still preserved a bit of your kindness.

Sadly, it was far from the truth, and it was because you knew how she thought of you, that you decided to say those words when you did. It was all part to keep her compliant, unsuspecting…

“That’s good.” Hinata said, unconsciously inching closer towards you. “I…there’s something that I want to ask”

“What’s up?”

“Why didn’t you respond to my messages after you saw them? And have you received any of my letters?” You swallowed. It obviously didn’t take long before Hinata began asking the tough questions. She wasn’t one to go around in circles and avoid the main topic of her concern, no. Your sister always went straight to the point—and with much more reason, now that her mission was you.

“I–” you began, trying to hold back the evident hesitance in your tone. You could feel Naoya’s gaze on you, voicing, don’t fuck it up! You looked down to the floor, and up to her eyes. Her gaze determined in getting an answer.

You cleared your throat and continued.

“Hah, you’re not going to believe it! Remember that video I sent you a long time ago, about a hiker who wanted to take a picture of the landscape but dropped his phone?”

“Yeah…?” she responded, somewhat seeing where this conversation was going.

“Well, guess what happened to me!” You laughed, and Hinata raised an eyebrow in skepticism.

“You… lost your phone?” “Yeah, I dropped it! Naoya and I decided to walk on one of the trails nearby, and I wanted to take a picture so I could send it to you and Ren, but when I took my phone out it slipped through my fingers and…well, the forest is very big. I think it might’ve fallen on a nearby river. Ah, but you should’ve seen the view! It was impressive.”

“How long ago was that? Like, how many days into your honeymoon?” Hinata queried, judging by her face, she did not seem to believe…some of your words.

“I-I…I think like 3 days maybe?”

“Then that can’t be possible. I sent you messages like 5 days into your honeymoon”

You internally cursed and Naoya’s frown deepened. Instead of stepping in and trying to cover your mistake, he only blamed you for not being able to tell a convincing lie to your sister.

He began berating you.

Women were too stupid to plan ahead, they’re too emotional and only think about—

“That’s… scary, Hinata.” Your quick wit responded; the best way to get out of this situation was to fake that someone now had possession of your supposed lost phone, which in reality was stored away in one of the basements of the estate, turned off with chip removed so you wouldn’t be able to contact anyone, if you somehow managed to find it. Now you just have to convince her. “Have you received anything else from my number?”

“No” Hinata frowned “Was I supposed to?”

“I mean, I hope not! I don’t have that phone anymore, I left it back there in the forest…maybe…I think maybe someone found it and has been using it—Hinata…I think it’s best if you block my number, like…tell my carrier to disable my phone”

“What? ”

“Yeah! I have many contacts there and private information…I know you always told me to never put information regarding my missions or the jujutsu community, but I couldn’t help it and now…I don’t know what I would do if it fell into the wrong hands” You continued to thread another web of lies. And by the look of Hinata’s eyes, she seemed to believe you. “Please”

“I–I guess?” Hinata, still confused by your words, responded. You didn’t make any sense…unless it did? It would explain why you didn’t respond to any of her messages or why the tracker in your phone no longer worked. Your cellphone was probably out there, being sold in an underground market after being promptly wiped out of all it’s contents. If that were the case, then no information was at risk of being leaked; but she also didn’t believe you would be foolish enough to do specifically what she requested you not to—but Gojo often did it, so why would it stop you? “And the letters?”

“I haven't received any letters” You looked at Naoya “Have we?”

“No” he followed your initiative “We’ve been missing a lot of mail recently, we think someone might be stealing from us to get information on my clan—probably a conspirator of Geto’s”

Hinata had no way to either prove or disprove his accusations.

Mail theft was a felony that had become more common these past few months; and although most of it were pertaining to everyday civilians, there were a few packages labeled as jujutsu business that were interjected by curse users, adding another felony to their ever growing list of crimes.

To combat this situation, Hinata offered the solution of sealing certain contents to avoid unwanted eyes prying on their information, but it didn’t take long before the seals were broken in and everyone found themselves back at square one.

Perhaps Naoya was telling the truth this time.

Nonetheless, for him to speak of Geto’s name so casually brought disgust to your sister. Even if he was a criminal, Geto had been a close friend of hers, and he certainly did not deserve to say his name.

“I see…that’s unfortunate. How will I be able to talk to my sister, if her phone is lost and mail won’t go through?”

“Well, Naoya and I thought that maybe you could visit, from time to time, you know? Just to check how things are and see how my family is doing” You added with a grin, bright as the sun, as if this was the solution to all of her problems. But far from being the medicine to her illness, it only brought sickness to her stomach. There was a perfectly good phone somewhere inside the walls of this estate, that was being intentionally kept away from your reach. Why weren’t you offering that alternative? Why were you excusing your lack of communication?

Why were you pushing her away?

“But the call—”

“Oh, that’s a phone solely used for business matters, not personal. The line has to be clear at all times for the Zen’in to be able to receive calls, there’s not a single time where that phone isn’t ringing!” You giggled, the collar of your yukata carefully sliding away, revealing part of your neck. Noticing your exposed skin, you quickly pulled the cloth up, back to its original place and rested your hand on your husband’s lap. “That’s why I had to cut you short, I’m sorry”

After a few seconds of silence and analyzing the alternatives, Hinata’s lips began to curve into a wide smile, as if suddenly, it all made sense.

“Ah, I should’ve known! The Zen’in are a very big and influential clan, of course they wouldn’t have time to let us sisters hog the phone all day!” Hinata laughed, and her reaction caused you to flinch. Naoya, who had been silently observing the two sisters interact with one another, was also taken aback by her sudden change of behavior, but that surprise was soon replaced with satisfaction. “I’m sorry about the mail though, my clan and I have been trying to come up with alternatives to lower the number of reports, but to no avail”

“There’s nothing to apologize” Naoya gave her a sympathetic smile and he looked back at you “It’s something that was bound to happen after all the attacks”

Hinata was finally convinced that you were ok, and it was now time to send her away—for good.

“I’m glad you understand, Hinata.” You added, your husband gently squeezing your hand as you began to see what he was seeing. You began to seal your fate by swallowing the agony of your next words ”For now, we would like to have more time to ourselves, I have to get used to the clan, if you know what I mean”

“Of course, a just-married couple needs all the time they can get their hands on before finally settling down. Besides, you two are from an arranged marriage, so there’s a lot of things to learn from one another—no offense.”

“I’m glad everything is clear” The last ray of hope you were desperately clinging onto was destroyed. Ripped apart, burned to the ground, nothing left but the ashes of your despair.

Hinata, who you believed knew you the most, who you trusted to catch the hints you tried to convey on your tone or on the words you chose to speak, fell into your deceivement and thought of you as unredeemable.

Perhaps this solitude you always felt wasn’t feigned. You truly deserved to be alone.

“I guess that’s it then. I’m glad you’re ok, oh, before I forget, Sumire, Ren and Dad said hi! They’re doing well, but I don’t want you to worry much about them, focus on your life right now” Hinata beamed as she stood from the bench, looking around as if trying to remember where she came from “I would like to stay more time, join you for dinner, but I have to go, since I have a few pending missions so…uh…do you mind leading me to the exit?”

“Of course not, follow me” Naoya offered and you stood up, wanting to see your sister off one last time, although your husband much preferred you stayed behind. He’d allow it this time, he thought, like the final fuck you to your sister. Sealing his victory once and for all.

It didn’t take long before the 3 of you stood by the entrance, wooden doors now open for your sister to leave whenever she was ready. Hinata rubbed her hands with one another as she tried to warm herself up from the sudden gust of wind that sent chills traveling up her spine. She commented on the upcoming weather, and how winter was estimated to be far worse than last year, earning some chuckles and comments back from you and your husband.

“Well, I guess this is it” Hinata stood before you, her eyes filled with the warmth and relief of a woman who got what she looked for. Her visage could not hurt you more, as the image of the always supporting sister turned corrupted; she was now a stranger.. “I had no reason to be worried”

“I’m glad you’re better now” You said, grinning as widely as possible to stop the forming tears on the corners of your ears from falling. But far from stopping them, your gesture only caused you to feel even more miserable, and before you knew it, you were crying.

“Oh, Y/N” Hinata cooed “I’ll be back before you know it”

“I–It’s fine, I just—”

“We don’t want to keep you busy, Hinata” Naoya intervened “Or your taxi for that matter”

“Ah, I’m sure he can wait a bit. I just want to hug my sister goodbye, is that alright with you, brother-in-law?”

Naoya held back a scoff and looked away before nodding in approval, not wanting to see any more of their emotional interaction, not when he already had what he wanted.

Hinata stared at you for a few seconds, and gave you a soft smile as her hand gently patted your cheek, swiping away the hot tears with a swift nudge. You hopelessly held back a sob as she wrapped her arms around you, pulling you into a tight embrace. Her face rested over your shoulder, as her warm breath fell against your ear.

She continued to coo and reassure you that her visit, although temporary, was not the least one, that she’ll be back in no time, after she finished her missions. She sealed her words with a kiss on your head and you sobbed once more.

You hugged her back, tightly as possible, with no intention of letting her go. Your body unconsciously attempted to reach out to her one last time, another attempt to see if she could make out your desperate cry for help, before your mind dictated it was pointless—with her words, it was clear she’d already given up on you.

But before you could pull away, Hinata placed her lips as close as possible to your ear, and whispered, low enough for Naoya or anyone else for that matter, not to hear, but loud enough for you to understand.

“I”ll get you out of here, I just need time”

Your breath hitched, eyes widening as you slowly turned to meet your sister’s gaze.

Instead of finding the glimmer of an ignorant sister who believed you were ok, you found an unbreakable determination you previously thought yourself unworthy of.

Hinata was not stupid.

When you laughed and your collar started to fall out of place, her eyes were quick enough to travel down to your uncovered skin, before you fixed it away, and saw a horrifying fact unfold before her that made everything make sense.

Underneath your yukata, by your collarbones, were two darkened bruises, surrounded by patches of red skin, apparently from recent wounds. There was also a light tremble on your fingers as you moved to cover the sight she wasn't supposed to notice, stopping her trailing gaze to fall further into your cleave, where more hickeys were hidden.

Having this shocking revelation made all of your excuses make sense.

You weren’t saying these things because they were the truth, or because you wanted to stay away from her. You were saying them because Naoya held you captive, and he was abusing you! This was far from settling down and getting along with the servants, you probably haven’t been able to see anything outside his disgusting face!

The nerve of this man to hurt you had your sister seeing red, and she was more than ready to lunge over your husband and choke him to death–but your presence and reality of her surroundings stopped her.

She was inside the Zen’in estate, surrounded by members who swore loyalty to Naoya; if she were to attack him, there was no doubt in her mind that someone would seek retribution, and your fate would end up being worse than it currently was.

Hinata berated herself for even considering that the words you were spewing held an ounce of truth; but once felt her time at the estate quickly coming to an end, she was forced to prepare a plan that would inform you she unveiled everything.

Thus, she gave you her own rendition of the Kiss of Judas , but instead of sentencing you to death, she was sentencing you to salvation.

Fight, Y/N. Fight! Because I’m not giving up on you .

A sudden spark of confidence began to ignite from the depths of your mind as Hinata pulled away from your warm embrace. This had been the truth the entire time: you were not alone.

Your sister, as expected, was quick to notice there was something wrong and saw through your faked deceivement. She was just playing along to not get caught.

Suddenly, you felt you had all the power in the world, enough to fight Naoya off until your sister saved you.

But you were not one to keep still with arms crossed. You would help Hinata in your own way, from behind enemy lines, anything to complete the new mission she had entrusted herself with.

“I’ll see you later. Take care” Hinata said one last goodbye and exited the estate, wooden doors eventually closed by nearby servants.

You looked back at Naoya and held back the urge to smile and mock his stupid idea of bringing your sister down.

Perhaps he underestimated the strong bond siblings could have because he never bothered to get along with them. He thought it easy to break something he didn’t understand, but in the areas that he lacked, others would strive; his lack of social skills and human decency was to be his downfall, and your sister’s conviction was living proof of that statement.

“That was easy” Naoya grinned as he walked towards you, one of his fingers wiping away the tears that managed to ruin your makeup “Your tears even had me feel pity for you two”

You nodded, using the sleeve of your kimono to pick up the remnants of your almost-dried tears,

“Ah, well, it doesn’t matter. She’s out of the picture, and I can finally focus on my missions” He shrugged, turning around and heading to the inside of the halls, you closely trailing behind him. “It’s done.”

“Yes.” you smiled, basking in the glory of your first victory over him. “It's done.”

#naoya zen'in x reader #naoya zenin #naoya zen'in #naoya zenin x you #jjk fic #jjk imagines #jjk x you #jjk naoya #series: first it hurts—

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amberlynnmurdock · 2 years

Text

Library Series (Pt. 21)

Pairing: College!Matt Murdock x Reader

Summary: Things go well at your first Columbia Daily Spectator meeting. Other things... go as they were meant, you suppose.

Genre: Angst

A/N: I'm so sorry for the delay! January has been much busier than I thought, I hope you didn't think I wasn't going to update!!! It's been on my mind every day this month, and tonight I finally had time to finish this chapter. Let me know what you think!!! Thank you to all who have been reading and commenting, you are appreciated in so many ways, more than you know!!! <3 <3 <3

WARNING: mentions of drugs at college parties

Archive of Our Own Link

Tags: @fangirl-swagg

This weekend was one of the best you’d ever had spent with your friends, but mostly with Matt. For some reason, you felt closer to him than ever before. You wish you had been alone with him but maybe it was for the best… maybe the tension was just what the two of you needed.

That Sunday morning, the four of you discussed plans for winter break. Normally, Foggy goes home, Marci goes back to Long Island and you go back to New Jersey. Matt goes back to Saint Agnes, but the four of you realized perhaps a different living situation was meant to be.

After you all looked at housing for winter, in a spur-of-the-moment decision, you all decided to live in off-campus housing, the four of you. It was perfect. Instead of going home for winter, the four of you would stay at school and continue to make memories together.

The thought of living with Matt gave you chills. It might’ve felt too soon for your relationship, but you didn’t see it as living with him but sharing housing with your friends as roommates. There were two bedrooms and two bathrooms, a kitchen, and a living space in an old Victorian-styled building just north of Columbia University. The school owned it, but it wasn’t technically on campus.

Now, you were on your way to the Columbia Daily Spectator’s staff room. You were anticipating going all weekend and the moment was finally here.

Upon entering the Communications building on campus, you follow the open space down further until you reach a door that says “STAFF ROOM: CDS.”

Peeking inside, you see there are about thirty kids in the room, all with notepads, jotting notes down, and talking to each other. You smiled, picturing yourself joining in with them. You couldn’t wait to come up with pitches of your own.

Immediately opening the door to the room, all the students went completely silent. It was like walking in on a very private conversation that you had no part of. You cleared your throat.

Before you could introduce yourself, someone speaks.

“You must be ___, the reporter for that story on the robbery,” a tall and slender young man walks towards you. He’s wearing a button-down shirt, khakis, and dress shoes. He has round glasses and reddish hair. “I’m Joey Brennan. Welcome to the Columbia Daily Spectator!”

Suddenly, all the kids who had just been silent erupt into a round of applause for you. You are so taken back you can’t help but blush and shake your head. You raise your hand after the clapping died down.

“Thank you. I’m ___. It’s nice to meet you all. Thank you for inviting me to be a part of the paper,” you say to Joey. He smiles and shakes your hand.

“We’d be foolish to not have a talented writer like you on our team. One who isn’t afraid to get their foot in the door for a good story!” Joey exclaims, looking at the team. He then looks back at you and smiles. “Our printed paper will be ready tomorrow but if you take a look at the front page of our website…” Joey rushes to his laptop that is hooked up to a projector. You move back from where you’re standing to look at the screen.

“You’ll see that you’re already on our home page! As of…” he checks his watch, “thirty seconds ago. Thanks, Victoria.”

An earthy voice comes from the back of the room. A small, brunette girl with brown eyes raises her hand. “You got it! Couldn’t wait to hit post on the site.”

“That’s Victoria, she’s our managing editor. You’ll get to meet everyone slowly but surely. It’s a big team,” Joey says, “but anyway, congratulations and welcome!”

“Thank you so much. Really. I can’t wait to tell all my friends,” you smile.

“You came at the perfect time, too. We are just about to start our pitches for our next issue. Once you get the hang of things around here, you’ll eventually be assigned to a beat that you stick with for the entire semester. This will be our last issue for fall,” Joey explains. “So, please. Take a seat anywhere you’d like.”

You look at the room and notice the seating is stadium-like. You walk up the steps and decide to sit in the middle row, in the middle seat. You wanted to blend in the first few weeks and observe how this all worked.

“All right, everyone, attention please,” Joey calls. “Who wants to start us off with pitches?” He closes his laptop goes to the whiteboard and writes the word PITCHES at the top.

“Brandon!” Joey calls. “What do you have for me?”

“I’d like to interview the football team on how the season went. They closed the semester with 21 wins, which is their best season yet,” a blonde kid sitting at the end of the row says.

Joey writes it down on the board.

You take notes carefully.

A bunch of pitches is called, from movie reviews to winter gift ideas, to the school play and other school events. You love being here already. You can tell everyone works together and has their role to play. Almost everyone called for a pitch. In the back, it was finally Victoria’s turn.

“Victoria, I know you have all the scandals on campus so let’s hear it,” Joey says.

“Well,” Victoria starts as she stands from her seat, “this one might just break the internet. And a bunch of frats and sororities. Allegedly, there is a BIG roofies problem on campus at frat parties. I have some reliable sources. These young women attend frat parties, have their drinks, and wake up in someone else’s bed with no recollection of their night. It’s pretty scary shit,” Victoria says. “I’m afraid if we don’t cover it, we may never have this issue solved. Especially since a lot of frat guys are on sports teams. The school can’t risk it.”

“That is a big story,” Joey says, “it might take a while for you to cover it. Do you know what frats?”

“I can’t say yet. But I’m working on it as we speak,” Victoria replies.

When Victoria pitched this story, Marci immediately came to mind. You had better tell her to be extra careful if she plans to go out again–don’t leave your drink alone, and always be cautious of who you are around.

Suddenly, you feel your phone buzz in your pocket.

CAMILA: Just saw the website. THERE IT IS! Do you have time to come by today?

ME: I’m so excited. I can come around 3 pm after my last class.

CAMILA: See you then!

“Thank God we don’t have class today,” Foggy Nelson raises his hands to the ceiling of his dorm he shares with Matt Murdock. “This weekend took a pretty big toll on me. And when I say toll, I mean massive hangover.”

Matt chuckles. He is stretched out on his bed, the same bed you slept in on Saturday night. Just 48 hours ago, your hair tussled on his silk pillow, your scent ingrained on his blankets, your warmth all on his bed. You were all over it. He pulled the sheets up to his nose, an overwhelming scent of vanilla and lavender. Your presence still felt here somehow. But it wasn’t physically. He needed to change that immediately.

“We should all do something again soon,” Matt thinks aloud. “I had a lot of fun.”

“Dude, what are the odds our girlfriends are best friends too? Our winter housing is going to be amazing,” Foggy says. “We all get along really well.”

“We do,” Matt agrees. “I’m excited about winter. I didn’t want to be a part from you guys for so long,” and when Matt says “you guys” he only really means you. “We’ll have to figure out Christmas, though.”

“I’m not worried about that yet,” Foggy says, “we’ll all end up somewhere. Including you, Matt!”

“Should I get something for ___, you think?” Matt asks.

Foggy turns around in his swivel chair and gives Matt a look that says “obviously.”

“DUH, dude! She’s like your first actual girlfriend. If you need help picking out jewelry, I’ll go with you,” Foggy states.

Matt laughs, “I don’t know about jewelry but we’ll see.”

Foggy turns back around in his chair. He makes an inquisitive sound at whatever he’s looking at.

“Oh, shit,” Foggy says, “I think ___’s article is published on the Columbia Daily Spectator already!”

Matt perks up from bed, his palms getting tight and his breathing getting faster. “Really? Well, what does it say?”

“Woman From Robbery Speaks for the First Time Since She Was Gunned Down, an intimate interview with ___,” Foggy reads aloud. “Holy shit, it has so many views already.”

Matt leans closer off the bed, “how can you tell? It has a hit counter?”

“Yeah, I guess,” Foggy says, “nearly 1k reads in the first 45 minutes. That’s amazing for her!”

And terrible, Matt thinks. His heart sinks to his stomach. Anyone could be reading your article right now.

White noise is all Matt can hear as Foggy starts reading your article verbatim. He mindlessly walks to his dresser and pulls open the bottom drawer. His mind is racing a thousand miles a minute. He can only hear the pounding of his heart in his ears. It’s like his instincts have fully taken over as he grabs his black shirt, pants, and mask. His heart is pounding faster and faster with each second.

When Foggy realizes Matt hasn’t been paying attention, he pulls Matt from his movements.

“What are you doing? Are you going somewhere?” Foggy asks.

“The gym,” Matt replies curtly. “I’ll be back in a few hours.”

The door slams behind him.

At the top of a roof somewhere in New York City, Matt doesn’t know what he’s looking for. He doesn’t know what he’s supposed to be listening for. All he can do is crouch on the edge of a roof and wait.

In the distance, he hears a baby crying and a mother cooing it the sleep. He hears people at a pizza restaurant taking orders and an alarm going off. If Matt’s suspicions are correct, someone out there is reading your article.

Who? That’s exactly what he’s going to find out.

3 pm

Arriving at Camila’s, you are immediately met with the strong scent of freshly baked chocolate chip cookies. You knock on her apartment door three times before an older woman, who is not Camila, answers it.

“You must be ___,” the older woman says. “Come in.”

“___!” Camila calls your name from the kitchen. She comes around the corner with a baking towel over her left shoulder. “Thank you for coming by. ___, this is my mom, Cynthia.”

“It’s very nice to meet you, Cynthia. I am so sorry for the trouble you and Camila have had lately,” you tell Cynthia. She has salt and pepper hair that falls just below her collarbone. She has a sweet face, like Camila. Behind her is a brown wall filled with pictures of their family.

“What’s done is done. I’m just glad Camila recovered so fast. Thank you for taking the time to speak with her,” Cynthia says, and you notice she has a slight accent.

“Of course,” you make direct eye contact with her, to show you truly care.

“We made you these cookies as a thank-you,” Camila says. “Come on out, Emily. Don’t be shy,” Camila smiles.

From around the corner comes a little girl with chocolate brown eyes and hair, holding her hands together. You kneel to become the same height as Emily.

“Hi, Emily. It’s very nice to meet you,” you introduce yourself.

She smiles and runs behind Camila’s legs. “Hi,” she squeaks.

“I know you’re a busy student so I won’t keep you too long,” Camila starts, “so I’ll pack these cookies for you.”

“That is so kind of you, Camila,” you say, putting a hand over your heart, “I can’t wait to share them with my friends!” You stand up to hug Camila. You tussle Emily’s brown hair.

Normally, accepting gifts from sources goes against the journalism code of ethics but you didn’t care. The cookies smelt way too good.

Somewhere in a penthouse in New York City

Roscoe Sweeney cracks his knuckles as he overlooks the city at the top of his penthouse. A cigar hangs from his mouth. He doesn’t care that the ashes fall on top of the marble table. Someone will clean it up.

“Bradley, Bradley, Bradley. Had to pick a bitch that won’t be afraid to speak with the press,” Roscoe takes the cigar from his mouth and leaves it burning on the marble top.

“Well it ain’t the press, boss,” Neil Benson corrects, “it’s just a stupid college paper.”

“Martin listened to the whole interview,” Roscoe replies, “college paper or not, it’s out there. If Camila keeps talking like she is, we’ll have to put a stop to it.”

“No way, boss, I ain’t dealin’ with her again! I almost got locked up for good!” Neil exclaims.

“I didn’t say you would deal with her, did I? Besides, you’re too much of a pussy to use a gun properly, which is why she wasn’t killed in the first place,” Roscoe yells, picking up his cigar again and taking a huge huff.

Roscoe looks out at the open city. The sun is about to set. He knows crime is on his side.

“Think of it as a debt collection for Bradley,” Roscoe Sweeney smiles. “Eh, who wrote that piece of shit article anyway? They might be a threat, too.”

“___ ___,” Neil reads aloud, “student at Columbia University. I don’t know boss, a student? She’s just doing her job.”

“Too soft, Neil. You’re too soft.”

Cookies.

It’s the first thing Matt smelt from behind your closed door. Freshly baked, too, he could tell. He takes a deep breath and clutches his cane between his hands. It was quite a long day of finding absolutely nothing. He’s at least happy he gets to be with you now–where he knows you will be safe. Safe, from the outside world. Safe, from everything. Safe, for now.

As much as he felt worried about your article being out there, he had to put on a front to not upset you. Matt wants you to feel supported by him. He didn’t want to ruin your big day.

He hears your footsteps coming closer to the door.

“Hi, Matthew,” you say as you open the door. You lean in and kiss him on the cheek. Matt blushes.

“Hey,” he says quietly, “are those cookies I smell?”

“Yes!” You reply, taking Matt’s hand and walking him inside. You carefully take his cane and lean it against the wall. If Matt had you around, he didn’t need his cane at all. You lead him to your bed and bring the plate of cookies over.

Matt holds a chocolate chip cookie up and looks confused behind his red-tinted glasses. “Did you make these?”

“No,” you laugh, “I went to Camila’s today. She and her daughter, Emily, made them.”

Matt hides his concern with a surprised smile, “oh? Really? Well, that was very sweet of her. How was that?”

“It was good. Short, but good. She was celebrating my article getting published and me getting a spot at the Columbia Daily Spectator.”

“Congratulations, ___,” Matt says, “you deserve it. They’d be foolish to not have a writer like you on their team.”

You smile as you bite into a cookie, “thank you, Matt. How was your day?”

Matt takes a deep breath. I tried to find out if anyone dangerous saw your article and got nowhere. But I did stop a carjacking and almost got stabbed.

“It was okay,” Matt tells you. “I went to the gym for most of the day.”

“Foggy told me,” you reply, “well, Foggy told Marci, who told me.”

Matt feels sad all of the sudden. “I should’ve texted you. I’m sorry.”

“I was busy all day anyway,” you say, “I’m glad we are here, though.”

Matt smiles and sits closer to you, “alone,” he nudges your arm.

“Alone, we are,” you say softly, “finally.”

You look at Matt in the soft glow of the light in your small dorm. You mindlessly reach up and take off his glasses. Matt lets you. He holds onto the lingering feeling of your soft fingertips touching the sides of his face. His eyes flutter at the contact. He grabs your hand and keeps it on the side of his face.

You lean in and run your fingers through his hair. Matt hums at the feeling, moving his face into your hand and kisses your palm. Your soft touch is exactly what he needed.

But there’s something else he can sense. He knows it’s not his heartbeat that’s pounding, no, it’s much louder than that. It’s yours. Your heart is beating so wildly, it is almost startling for Matt to hear it. It’s not because you’re aroused, but you’re nervous.

Matt stops.

“Are you okay, ___?” Matt asks you, holding your face in his hands. His eyes fall just below your chin.

“Yeah,” you reply, lying. “I’m fine.”

Matt sits up and brings you closer to him, the intention of getting the truth growing. You lying and being nervous around him is the last thing he’d ever want.

“Would you be upset if I said I don’t believe you?” Matt questions, nuzzling his nose against yours.

“I’d actually be glad if you did say that, because it’s the only way I’ll be able to tell you this,” you say to Matt, taking a deep breath. Matt furrows his brows, holding you close.

“Tell me,” Matt urges with softness in his voice.

“I–,” you start, “After I finished my article, I wanted to dig deeper into the whole gambling mess that Neil is a part of. Camila said her ex-boyfriend is the reason why she was targeted because Neil was looking for money,” you begin slowly.

Matt is listening intently, realizing the more you explain what you found out, the more nervous you become.

“Neil was looking for money for his boss, who is apparently a true-crime kingpin in this city,” you say shaking your head, “and I mean big time. He and his boss have been in the news before but they keep getting away with their crimes. I think the more I look into this, the more I can do my investigative work and potentially finally bring justice to the people they’ve hurt…”

“Matt, I wanted to tell you this over the weekend but it wasn’t the right time. His boss is a man named Roscoe Sweeney, and when I was looking over newspaper clippings at the library, I saw one about a murder of a boxer… Jack Murdock.”

It’s like Matt’s entire world comes crashing down on him as you say the name of his father out loud. A flood of memories comes crashing to his mind, bad ones, mostly the ones of the night his father was murdered. What shook Matt to the core was the confirmation that Roscoe Sweeney never truly did get the justice he deserved. The thought was infuriating, so much so that Matt has stopped listening to you completely, and has stopped holding you. He gets up from your bed and places a hand on his forehead, his back to you.

It’s not that he’s upset you know the truth now, that was never going to stay hidden for long… but it’s your insistence, in this case, this story, this is now much more personal than Matt could have ever guessed, and it doesn’t sit right with him at all. He’s furious you think you could take down a man like Roscoe Sweeney. Not even he could. And it’s more so the fear of you getting caught in between, the fear of you getting in Roscoe Sweeney’s grasp, the fear of Matt ultimately losing you.

He can’t bear it any second longer, those dark, dark thoughts. He absolutely cannot fathom any thought like that.

“Don’t get involved,” Matt says low, his back still to you.

“Matt–“

“Do not get involved, ___,” Matt repeats, turning his head.

“I–“

“Do you see this as an assignment? Do you see this as a puzzle you need to solve? This is real life ___ and it’s dangerous. Roscoe Sweeney is a murderer. You are not safe if he knows your name, which he probably does, now that your article is out there. Camila is not safe,” Matt goes off on a tangent, listing every possible reason why your getting involved is a bad idea. “It’s not an assignment. You can’t just think you can take him down with your newspaper articles, ___. That’s incredibly naive of you and I cannot risk you getting your life endangered because of a scumbag like Roscoe Sweeney. It’s not worth it,” Matt says, facing you now.

You are taken aback by Matt’s brutally honest words, but your pride gets the best of you. This isn’t just an assignment to you, this is your career path. Some of the best journalists risked their lives to get a story and took down some very bad people while at it.

“Matt, that was incredibly rude of you to demean my career goal as just a little assignment. I know Roscoe Sweeney is a dangerous man but what is he going to do to me on this campus? I barely ever leave,” You say.

“You left today to go to your source’s apartment, who is the main target of Sweeney and his cronies. You put yourself in danger without knowing it,” Matt fires back.

He’s right. “I won’t go there so often–“

“That’s bullshit,” Matt interrupts you.

“Bullshit or not, some grimy man isn’t going to keep me living in fear just because he has a few bad people on his side. I’m going to continue looking for victims of this gang and my stories will make an impact on the public. It already has nearly 5k reads, the most the Columbia Daily Spectator has ever had on a single article. He, nor you, are going to stop me from doing what I want,” you tell Matt.

“It’s not that simple. It’s not about you not following your career path, it’s about your life. My father was murdered because he dealt with him, as you now know. Many people have been put in danger because of him, like Camila. You are no exception, ___,” Matt tells you, pleading with his hands.

“I don’t know what you want me to say. If a story comes up, I’m taking it,” you say to Matt. “I understand the risks, but–“

“I don’t think you do,” Matt interrupts again. He goes to the bed and grabs his glasses. He puts them on and walks over to where you left his cane.

“Matt–“

“I need to go,” Matt replies, not looking at you.

“You’re just going to leave me alone again? Like last time?” You call to him, your voice hitching in your throat. You are not about to cry right now.

Matt pauses as he hears your voice crack. He knows you’re upset but bringing up his father’s death and Roscoe Sweeney triggered Matt in so many ways. Right now, he needs his alone time. He needs to figure out a way to keep Roscoe Sweeney as far away from you as possible, and he can’t do that if he’s with you right now.

It hurts him just as much, but he needs to do something at this very moment.

“I need to go,” Matt repeats. The air is suddenly salty. He knows you have shed tears. He can’t bring himself to wipe them away when he knows he should. A good boyfriend would do that. Matt… wasn’t being a good boyfriend to you right now. If anything, he’s caused you more heartache.

Because he has to keep this other part of his life a secret from you. He’s not sure for how long, but right now, it has to be kept.

Once again, Matt has left you completely in the dark. Completely alone, confused. A plate of cookies that were meant to be shared goes cold. And so do you.

#matt murdock #college!matt murdock x reader #college!matt murdock #charlie cox #charlie cox x reader #mcu #daredevil #daredevil x reader #the man in the mask #netflix mcu #the defenders #library series #amberlynnmurdock

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atlafan · 4 years

Text

Regular Thing - One Shot

a/n: okay, here’s bouncer!Harry, or bouncerry as I like to call him. this turned into a longer thing than I thought, and it’s a no strings attached type situation. there is A LOT of smut, enjoy! (reblogs and feedback are greatly appreciated) not proofread, sorry!

Warnings: SMUT

Words: 14K

Being a bouncer in a college town wasn’t Harry’s intended career of choice, but it was a decent enough gig while he was in grad school. He was sort of over partying and boozing himself, so he didn’t feel like he was missing out much. It was fun at first, letting people in, turning others away. He took his job very seriously, never giving into the people that would flirt with him when the bar had reached capacity.

“Sorry, you’ll have to wait until some people leave.” He would say to them. The girls would push their boobs up and try to look as convincing as possible, but it never worked on Harry.

That was how the beginning of the night usually went. He’d stand outside for a few hours checking ID’s, and listening to the chatter of the people that would come out for a smoke or for some fresh air. He sometimes had a co-worker outside with him on the busier night, but most of the time it was him. Then he’d head inside and help grab empty glasses and survey the scene for overly drunk people. The bartenders would nod towards specific people and Harry would get them the fuck out.

It was tough at a college bar because people would often come to the bar already smashed. Their parties would get ruined by noise complaints, so everyone over twenty-one would come down to have some more fun. That’s not to say people wouldn’t try to sneak in, that’s when more of the flirting will happen.

“I just wanna dance with my friends, please? You can even stamp my hand.”

“No can do, come back in a few months.”

Harry was going for his MBA, and wanted to be a business owner someday. He got paid well as a bouncer, especially since he had boxing experience. His boss knew he could take care of business when need be. His boss, Greg, had taken him under his wing. Not only did Greg own the bar, but he also owned some off-campus apartments. He told Harry once he had his MBA a property manager job would be waiting for him. It would be an incredible start for Harry as buying and selling homes was something he really wanted to get into. He even wouldn’t mind owning the bar, or some bar, himself one day. He had time to figure it out.

For now, he was perfectly complacent working Tuesday through Sunday (technically Saturday, but the bar closes at 1:30AM), getting free drinks and food when he wanted, and listening to music. Luckily, his classes were either online, or in the afternoons, some were even weekend intensives, all of it was manageable.

Y/N worked at the university in town, also going for her master’s, but was only able to do so through her benefits as an employee. She didn’t get to go out that much, pretty much only when her friends were in town. One of her good friends, Mike, was in grad school for biology, and when her friends would come to stay with him, he’d invite her out. She had explained that unless it was a small thing at his place, or a night at the bar, she couldn’t really party with him or them if it was somewhere else. Nothing would look worse than her boss seeing her on barstool sports, hammered and popping her ass at some off-campus party where there could easily be people underage. It just wasn’t worth the risk.

Y/N only had guy friends, who she just referred to as her boyfriends. It wasn’t on purpose, it just sort of happened. She started hanging out with them her junior year of college when they were seniors, and they all just clicked. She had dated one of them earlier in the school year, but none of them put two and two together until later. She sort of absorbed them as a friend group, and the one she dated never really came around much.

Mike: hey, Y/N! The boys are coming into town this weekend. We plan to go to the bar Friday and Saturday night, will you come out???

Y/N: hey! Omfg I’d love to!

Mike: great! Can’t wait to see you

Y/N: same here, who exactly is coming?

Mike: Danny, Rob, Drew, and Conor

Y/N: amazing!! It’s gonna be a great weekend

There was a local band playing tonight. Harry didn’t love the way they sounded, and most people couldn’t wait for them to finish their set so the dance floor could open up, but it was a nice break from all of the overplayed music. The DJ on Fridays always spun the same tunes.

It was starting to get a little colder out at night, and even though Harry had been doing this a while, he still couldn’t quite understand how some of these people came out half dressed. People were coming in herds, and Harry had to turn a good chunk of them away. There was a $3.00 cover charge to see the band, but no one ever carries cash, and Harry couldn’t let them in without the cover. Simple as that.

He noticed this girl walking down to the entrance by herself. She had her hair up in a cute ponytail that flowed, and she was wearing skinny jeans with some booties, the jeans look to be high-waist. She was wearing a wind-breaker and a crop top. Not totally bundled up, but certainly more sensible than what many of the other people inside were wearing. As she got closer he could tell she had some light makeup on, but her eyes were done up. Whatever shadow she had on made her eyes pop.

Y/N had been to this bar many times, but not in a long time, and never at the hour Harry worked. Or maybe she had, but she had never really noticed him. As she approaches she gets her ID out and ready.

“Hi.” She smiles at him and hands him her ID to check.

Clearly not already intoxicated, good sign, he thinks to himself.

“Evening.” Harry mutters as he shines a small light on the ID, double checking it before handing it back to her. He catches her name; Y/N.

“Thanks.” She starts walking towards the door.

“There’s a cover tonight, three dollars.”

“What?” She scoffs. “Very funny.”

“Not kidding, we have bands a lot on Friday nights now…”

“Shit, it would have been nice for my friends to let me know, I would have stopped to get cash.” She fishes her phone out of her pocket. “And there’s never any service over here, ugh.”

Normally Harry would turn someone like this away, he would tell them where the nearest ATM was, and to have a nice night. But she looked up at him with wide eyes, and he couldn’t help himself. He sighs heavily and then speaks.

“Do you plan on drinking once you’re in there?”

“Well, yeah, obviously.”

“If I let you in, do you promise to tip the bartenders really well to make up for the three bucks?”

“Are you serious?” She perks up. “Yeah, of course!”

“Alright, go ahead.” He nods towards the door.

“Really?”

“Yeah, have fun.” He smiles, something he rarely did to the patrons.

“Thank you so much.” She smiles back and heads inside.

“Mate…” Niall, the other bouncer says. “Did you just let a girl flirt with you to get in?”

“No.” Harry scoffs. “I felt bad for her, that’s all. She looked panicked. Her friends clearly didn’t communicate with her properly.”

“Right.”

Inside, Y/N makes her way around to find her friends. She grins when she sees them all sitting down at a high top. She walks up and smacks Mike’s arms.

“Could have told me there was a cover.” She pouts and he gets up to hug her.

“Sorry, we didn’t know either. The bouncer made us go to an ATM.”

“It’s fine.” She says as she sits down and puts her jacket on the back of the seat. “He let me in for free.”

“Of course he did.” Conor rolls his eyes. “And don’t sit down, you have hugs to give out.”

“You’re right.” She giggles and gets up to hug all of her friends.

“We got you a drink already, at least.” Danny says, sliding it over to her.

“Ah, thank you, boys.” They all clink their glasses and get to drinking.

The band wasn’t terrible, but Y/N was definitely ready to dance with her friends. As soon as they packed up, and the DJ got on the turntables, they all made their way to the dancefloor. Y/N loved dancing with her friends, they always made her laugh, and the sleezy guys around usually left her alone. She could feel how lit she was and she knew she needed to slow down. Harry was at the point in the evening where he was standing inside, scoping out the scene. You walk by him giggling with Drew, you needed some fresh air and he needed a smoke.

“Shit, it’s cold out.” She says as she unties her jacket form around her waist.

“Mm, these keep me pretty warm.” Drew smirks as he takes a drag from his cigarette.

“That’s a nasty habit.”

“I only smoke when I drink, chill.” He chuckles. “You offered to come outside with me.”

“Certainly wasn’t going to do it alone.” You wobble a bit as you stand. You hear a song you love come on and you both look at each other.

Drew puts his cigarette out, and you both run back inside, whipping right by Harry. He notices how your friends are people he made go to the ATM earlier. He also noticed they were all guys. He figured you weren’t dating one of them, if you had a boyfriend you probably would have said so, and if you had a proper boyfriend he either would have come with you to the bar, or would have waited for you outside.

“Hey, Greg wants you outside again.” Niall says.

“Why?”

“Because I guess the town cop is coming tonight to make sure people leave safely, and Greg knows you won’t say something stupid to him.”

“Oh, Tom’s coming? Love that guy, he’s so chill.”

“If you say so.” He shrugs.

“Alright, I’ll go back out.” Harry sighs and goes back out, pretty much forgetting about Y/N until it was 1:30 in the morning, and she was walking out with her friends.

She was laughing hysterically about something, and Harry was making small talk with Tom. She stops short in front of Harry.

“Hey!” She smiles.

“Y/N, come on.” Mike tugs on her arm.

“Hold on.” She scolds him and looks back at Harry. “I did what you said.”

“Which was what?”

“Tip the bartenders well.” She bats her lashes at him. “You let me in without the cover, which was super nice, so I wanted you to know I did what you said.”

“Oh…um…good, thanks.”

“Come on, Y/N, I’ll give you a piggy back ride back to the apartment.” Mike says and she immediately gets excited. Y/N hated walking anywhere while she was drunk.

Harry watches as she hops on the man’s back, and wraps herself around him happily as the group walks up the small hill to the street.

“Don’t think I’ve ever seen you at such a loss for words.” Tom nudges him. “Thought the college girls didn’t affect you.”

“They don’t…and she’s not just some college girl, she’s a little older, I saw on her license. She’s around my age.” Harry shakes his head. “It doesn’t matter, I’ve never seen her before, and I’ll probably never see her again.”

Or so Harry thought when she came strolling down with all of the same guys. This time around she had a ripped pair of black skinny jeans on, not so high-waist, Harry could see her belly piercing, and she was wearing a white crop top. Her hair was half up, and flowed down her shoulders. She looked pretty, gorgeous really. All of them were giggling over something, and it was already 11:30, so Harry assumed they had already started drinking.

“Hello.” Y/N smiles and hands him her ID.

“Evening.” He says as he shines the light over the card. “All set.” He says as he hands it back.

“No smile tonight?”

“Go inside, would you?” He says as he checks the other ID’s.

“Too bad.” She giggles. “You have a nice smile.”

“Y/N.” Rob hushes her and leads her inside.

“Hear that, mate, you got a nice smile.” Niall jokes.

“Shut up.” Harry grumbles and crosses his arms.

The boys all wanted to play pool, which Y/N sucked at, so she just happily stood by sipping her drink, swaying to the music. She munches on popcorn, and notices Harry going around collecting empty glasses and bringing them behind the bar. She notices how he smiles at the bartenders, letting them nudge him playfully.

He looks over and sees her looking at him and his eyes widen. Instead of feeling embarrassed, she keeps looking at him. She smiles and bites the straw in her drink, and his face flushes before turning away. Harry wasn’t an easily flustered man, so he was extremely confused. When he looks over in that direction he finds her cheering on her friends. He wondered why you weren’t playing, billiards weren’t that difficult.

Later on when she was on the dance floor with her friends, they point over to the door where Harry was effortlessly carrying someone out.

“Damn, that guy must have been fucked up!” Danny says.

“Yeah!” Mike says.

“I wonder how I could get him to pick me up like that?!” Y/N says and the boys laugh.

“Are you gonna try to pick him up?!” Conor says.

“Not tonight, it’s boy’s night!” She backs her ass up to Drew and he laughs as he dances with her. “But maybe another time, he’s cute!”

“Last night was boy’s night.” Rob scoffs. “Go on and get yourself some.”

“Maybe when he’s less busy.” She laughs.

Harry was about to go on a fifteen minute break as he was carrying some empties to the glass racks. Right when he was walking back to the main area, he bumped into someone, causing them to spill their drink on the floor.

“Shit, I’m sorry.” He sighs.

“Oh! No, that was my fault, I…” Y/N looks up at Harry. “I should have been more careful.”

“Can I get you a new one?” He rubs the back of his neck.

“Really, it’s okay, not that much spilled.” Harry nods at her. “So…you work here, that’s cool.”

“Yeah.”

“Saw you toss that guy out, does that happen often.”

“Maybe a couple times of week.” Harry shrugs.

“You seemed like you were in a hurry, am I keeping you from something?”

“No, I was just headed for my break.” He looks her up and down, she was so pretty, and maybe it was the couple of shots he had in his system, but he was feeling more bold than usual. “There’s an office in the back I usually go hang in for a bit…it’s quiet.” He steps a little closer to her.

“Do you wanna show me?”

Harry nods at her and she smiles. She follows close behind him to the back office. Now, normally this wasn’t something Harry did. Hooking up with drunk girls while he was barely inebriated himself wasn’t an activity he participated in often. Having worked at the bar for a good chunk of time now, though, he’s able to tell that she’s fine. She can stand on her own feet fine, and she’s not wobbling around.

“How many drinks have you had?” He asks as he closes the door, locking it.

“This is my second.” She says as she places it on the desk.

“And before coming down?”

“Just a couple of shot.” She shrugs. “How long is your break?” She walks towards him.

“Fifteen minutes.”

“And how would you like to spend that little chunk of time?” She says as she presses her hands to his chest.

Harry’s answer is to cup her jaw and lean down to kiss her, which she happily accepts. Her lips were sticky-sweet with the cranberry juice from her drink. He runs his tongue over her bottom lip before sucking on it. She tugs on his shirt as she balls it up in her fists. His hands move to her hips to walk her back towards the desk.

“Is this okay?” He whispers against her lips.

“Yes.” She smiles up at him. “You’re right, it is quiet in here.”

Harry smirks at her and attaches his lips to hers again. Her hands splay across his back, and she runs her nails down the length of him. She’s back up against the desk with his leg between her. His hands slide down to her ass and he squeezes what he can, getting a gasp from her.

“Um, what’s your name?” She says as he kisses from her jaw to her neck.

“It’s Harry.” He mumbles against her.

“I’m Y/N.” She grunts as his teeth graze her soft skin. “That feels good, but I don’t think you have time for all that.”

He moves to look at her, eyes pleading to have him just touch her already.

“You really wanna do this?” His asks as he grips onto the waistband of her jeans.

“Yes, would have tried to last night, but I was way too fucked up.”

“And you’re not tonight?”

“Nope.”

“How do you want it?”

“Just bend me over the desk.”

A soft groan leaves Harry’s lips. He undoes her jeans, and slides his hand inside to get a feel for her, and her back arches. She bites her bottom lip as his fingers graze over her folds.

“Just wanna make sure you’re wet enough for me.” He kisses her again as she grinds against his hand. She whines when he takes his hand away. “Turn around.” She nods and braces herself with her palms gripping the edge of the desk.

“Wait!” She says and rummages through her purse. “Condom.” She gives him a shy smile as he takes it.

“Good catch.”

He tears it open with his teeth and undoes his belt and zipper, tugging his boxers and pants down just enough to get his hard dick out. He rolls the condom down his length. You tug down your own jeans and panties. The lights in the office were dim, so neither of them felt over exposed. It was the perfect atmosphere, really.

He sucks his fingers into his mouth and reaches between her folds again, finger her for a moment or two just to make sure she was good to go.

“Please.” She whimpers as she looks over her shoulder at him.

“You’re sure?”

“Yes.”

Harry nods and grips her hips as he slowly pushes inside her. Y/N’s mouth falls open as he keeps feeding it into her.

“Oh my god.” She breathes.

“Alright?”

“Yeah, you can move.” She looks at him briefly. “And remember, you have to be quick.”

“Want it fast, is that what you’re telling me?” He smirks and she nods with hooded eyes.

Harry pulls almost all the way out and slams back into her. She gasps, but she encourages him to do it again. And he does, over and over until he gets a comfortable rhythm going. He was drilling into her, but she seemed okay. He snakes an arm around her chest so he can grope at one of her breasts. She arches into him, and her head falls back against his shoulder. He licks into her mouth while his other hand works to rub her clit. She moans into his mouth, and he hooks an arm around his head to tug at his hair, causing him to moan into her mouth. He slows his pace up to focus on her. She was moving her hips in sync with the motions of his fingers on her clit.

“Fuck.” She groans. Her breathing gets heavier and faster and she bites his bottom lip to stifle her cry. She bucks into his hand as she climaxes.

“Okay.” He breathes, and pushes her back over the desk. He grips both of her hips and gives it to her full forces. “Good?” He grunts.

“Y-yeah!” She gasps. With each stroke he was hitting deeper and deeper, brushing her g-spot. “D-don’t stop.”

He could feel his orgasm bubbling at the base of spine, and his stomach was starting to tighten. She was squeezing around him, and he wasn’t sure how much longer he could last, especially when he looks down at the way her ass bounces back against him.

“Shit, fuck.” He moans out as he releases into the condom and he gasps when he feels her squeeze around him again, another release of her own coinciding.

He pulls out of her slowly and wraps the condom in a tissue before throwing it away. He didn’t need Greg giving him a tough time. He pulls his pants back up all the way and watches as she does the same.

“Sorry, I don’t have any rags in here, uh-“

“It’s okay, I’ll just go use the bathroom.” She wipes his fingers under eyes and looks at herself using the camera on her phone. Her voice was a little hoarse now, so she takes a sip of her almost forgotten drink. She makes a relieved noise once the cool liquid hits her throat. “Look at that.” She says, pointing to the clock on the wall. “You’ve got two minutes to spare.” She winks and leaves him standing there.

“Holy shit.” He says to himself as he makes sure the office is in order. He scarfs down a granola bar, and heads back into the bar. He looks for Y/N, he wanted to make sure she was okay.

There she was, back on the dancefloor with her friends. She was grinding back against one of her friends, who could only assume was one of her friends, he could easily be her second fuck for the night. Harry furrows his brows and then snaps out of it. It was a simple one-night-stand, if one could even call it that, he felt good after his release.

Last call on a Saturday night never failed to irritate Harry. There was usually a few different girls that stayed until the last second to try to pick him up, but he never went. Those girls were usually way too drunk, and it just wasn’t worth it to him. He was behind the bar now, helping the bar tenders get the last few orders in, and square up some tabs. He sees Y/N walk up to the bar with one of her friends.

“I’ve got it, Y/N.” Conor says.

“No, you’re not paying for me again.”

“Technically Danny got all the drinks last night.”

“Yeah, so it’s my turn.”

“Your money’s no good. Hey, man, put everything of hers on Donovan.” Conor says to Harry and he nods.

“No! I can pay for my own drinks!” She laughs at her friend. “You’re the worst.”

“We’re just taking care of you, Y/N.” Conor puts his arm around her and she leans her head on his shoulder.

“Here.” Harry slides the card and receipt to Conor. He looks at Y/N and she looks at him, a grin growing on her face, and a blush growing on his. “Have a good night.” He says more so to her.

“I don’t think it could get much better than it already is.” She says to him.

“Not true, we’re gonna go stuff our faces with pizza and have a group snuggle, what’s better than that?” Conor says to her as he signs the slip and leaves a decent tip.

“Oh, god, yeah, I really need to snuggle right now.” She says to her friend with a pout.

“I’ll bet.” He winks at her and leads her away from the bar.

Harry’s face turns beat red. Did she tell them what she went off to go do? He didn’t want rumors being spread that the bouncer fucks. He needed to keep some authority, after all. People start leaving, and others linger until the lights flip on at closing. Harry helps clean up and gets everyone out of the bar. He hadn’t seen Y/N again, but that was okay.

“So, you had a good break.” Niall teases him as they head to their apartment, which was conveniently just above the bar.

“What do you mean?”

“Saw you go into the office with that girl.”

“So what if I did?” Harry shrugs. “Not like you haven’t done it before.”

“Oh, I’m not judging at all, please know that. I’m more so just shocked. Usually you shoot every person that flirts with you down.”

“I know, I don’t really know what came over me, but she was hot so.” He shrugs again. “I’m going to bed, I’m exhausted.”

“I’m sure you.” Niall nudges him as they make their separate ways to their rooms.

Y/N woke up spooning Rob, and with Drew spooning her. Not the most unusual way to wake up with her friends. She felt gross as she sat up. She was cozy in some borrowed sweats, but there was an ache in her stomach and between her legs. The stomach was easily from the amount of sugar she had from the cranberry juice in her drinks, and between her legs, well, a sexy bouncer comes to mind for that.

Everyone slowly gets up and they all decide to go out for brunch, just like old times. They laugh and reminisce over the fun the weekend brought them all.

“Wait, so did you really hook up with that dude?” Mike asks.

“Mhm.” She giggles as she sips her coffee. “It was good too.”

“Define good.” Rob says.

“I had two orgasms that I didn’t have to conjure up myself, I’d say that’s pretty good.” She says bluntly and they all laugh.

“Do you think you’ll try to see him again?” Conor asks.

“Oh god, I have no idea. I have no reason to go to the bar unless you all are here.”

“You could always go down with Mike on trivia night or something.” Drew says.

“Mm, no, I don’t like going out on work nights. I’m always way too tired the next morning.”

“You don’t have to drink. Come on, when was the last time we went to trivia night?” Mike says.

“True…maybe next week? I don’t wanna seem too eager, you know? I’m not really looking for anything serious right now, and I don’t need him thinking I’m stalking him.”

“Don’t force her, man, if she just wants it to be a one night stand she can leave it as that.” Danny says.

“See, he gets it.” She says.

Harry had thought of the pretty girl he fucked in his boss’ office only a couple of times, and then he slowly let her slip away. He had class and schoolwork to occupy his head. The same could be said for Y/N. Harry had left some after affects, but he slowly faded in her mind as well.

Well, it had faded until she was mindlessly swiping through Bumble one night, and she came across his profile. Even if she hadn’t already met him, she would have liked him. He really did have a nice smile, and his pictures weren’t the standard douchebag pictures. She decides to swipe right and see what happens. She wasn’t sure how often he used the app, if at all, but she was interested to see if she’d see anything from him.

On a Sunday evening, after getting some homework done, Harry went on to Bumble to see if he had any notifications. He used the app less and less as he didn’t want to accidentally hook up with someone that might be too young for him. His eyes widen when he comes across Y/N’s profile.

“So she is from around here.” He says to himself. He had thought maybe you had just come into town for that weekend for some fun with friends. He takes a leap of faith and swipes right. He smirks when he sees it’s a match.

Harry preferred Bumble to the other “dating” apps out there. He never wanted to make someone uncomfortable, so he liked that the girl had to message first.

Y/N was just getting out of the shower when she saw the notification from Bumble that she had a new match. Her jaw drops when she sees that it’s Harry.

Y/N: let’s go out on Friday night…I matched with that bouncer on Bumble…but I’d rather talk in person

Mike: sounds like a plan to me! I’ll be the perfect wingman

Y/N: don’t think I exactly need your help for that lol

Mike: maybe you can be mine then

Y/N: deal

Harry had completely forgotten about the Bumble thing until he saw Y/N strolling down the hill with Mike. She gets her ID ready for him.

“Is there a cover tonight?” She asks him. His gaze on her was intense, like they both knew about the giant elephant looming around them.

“No band tonight.”

“Ah.”

He checks Mike’s ID, and the two go inside. The sit down at the bar after Mike makes up a bowl of popcorn.

“Don’t let me drink too much.” She tells him. “I’m gonna try to nurse a vodka-lemonade for a bit.”

“You got it. Hey, maybe you could give me another shot of showing you how to play pool?”

“I’m looking to get laid again, I don’t need to make a fool of myself, Michael.”

“He could think it’s cute, maybe he could teach you.”

“He’s on the job.”

After the nightly rush, Harry’s relieved from the cold, and comes inside to do his other duties. He gathers up empty glasses, cleans up anything that’s spilled, and goes behind the bar. He notices Y/N about halfway done with her drink.

“Are you gonna want another?”

“I could certainly use another blue moon.” Mike grins at Harry and he nods.

Y/N watches as Harry’s muscles flex as he pulls the tap. He grabs an orange wedge to put on the lip of the glass and slides it over to Mike.

“Thanks.” Mike throws a couple of singles on the bar and Harry pockets them.

“Well?”

“Trying to get me drunk?” She smirks. “Thought you might like me a little more sober.”

Harry smirks and leans on the bar so he can talk a little closer to her.

“Don’t tell me you came all the way down here just to see me again?”

“Maybe.” She shrugs and takes a careful sip of her drink. “What time you off?”

“Two.”

“Places closes at 1:30…”

“Mhm, and then I have side-work. You don’t have to wait if you don’t want to.”

“No…I’ll wait.” She looks at her watch. “It’s only a couple of hours anyways.”

Harry nods and walks away to get back to work. Mike gives Y/N a thumbs up of approval.

“Well, if you won’t play pool with me, will you at least go dance with me once I’m done with this drink?”

“Oh, without question.”

There were plenty of people on the dancefloor. Y/N didn’t love coming to the bar often, only because sometimes she’d run into some of her student workers and it could get a little awkward. For the most part, things seemed safe. She was having a great time with Mike, but her eyes kept scanning the room for Harry. Once in a while they’d lock eyes and smile awkwardly, fully knowing what was most likely going to go down at the end of the night. When 1:30 hit, she let Mike go square up his tab so she could chat with Harry.

“So…” She says as she approaches him. He was putting chairs on top of tables.

“Mine or yours?” He asks bluntly. “I live right upstairs, but if you felt more comfortable at your place then-“

“Yours.” She smiles. “Yours sounds good.” Y/N didn’t like bringing men home that she didn’t know all that well. His place was better.

“Okay.” He looks around the bar and furrows his brows. “You gotta get rid of your friend, we’re not really supposed to let a lot of people hang around.”

“Oh, alright, well, where should I wait?”

“Take a seat at the bar, it’s fine.”

She nods and goes over to Mike to say goodnight. He winks at her and tells her to call if she needs anything. Niall was running around with Harry mopping the floors and cleaning everything up while the bartenders cleaned up the bar. They gave Y/N a couple of knowing looks, but other than that no one seemed phased that she was waiting for him.

“Hang down here a minute.” Harry says to Niall. “I’d like to get her in my room first.”

“Say no more, I’m actually headed to a little cutie’s of my own.” Niall winks. “Have fun.” He says as he heads out.

“Y/N?” She turns to look at him. “Ready?”

“Mhm.” She smiles and follows him up a set of stairs.

Harry unlocks the door to let them both in and she looks around. It was a decent enough set up.

“Can I get you anything?” He asks as he closes the door.

“No, I’m all set.” She presses him against the wall and wraps her arms around his neck. “There’s really only one thing I want from you, anyways.”

He leans down to kiss her, and her fingers lace through his hair. His hands slide down her sides to her butt, to the backs of her thighs.

“Jump.” He says, and she does so. She kisses on his neck as he carries her to his room.

He doesn’t bother with the light, he just kicks his door shut, the only light in the room coming in through the shades from the street lights. He gets her on his bed and they both work to get each other’s clothes off. He gets her jeans off and she lays back as he kisses on the fleshy parts of the tops of her breasts. She tugs his shirt off and runs her hands up and down his torso. She could just make out some of the tattoos he had. Interesting, she thinks.

“You have condoms?” She asks as he unhooks her bra.

“Yeah.”

She hum in approval and lets him continue getting to know her body. He swirls his tongue around one of her nipples before sucking on it. His hand goes between her legs, and rubs her covered clit. She feels him pull the material to the side, and then she feels him slip his middle finger in, the cool from his rings causing her to gasp.

“You were really tight last time, did I hurt you?” He mumbles against her neck as he gently sucks on her skin.

“N-no, I would have told you if it hurt.”

Harry kisses her as he slides another finger inside her warm center. Her mouth falls open as his thumb rubs her puffy clit. She reaches between them, and pets him over his boxers. He groans into her neck and starts pumping his fingers faster, curling them, hoping to find that spot of hers.

“Oh, oh!” She gasps. “Just like that, oh fuck, please don’t stop!” She has to clutch at the blankets on his bed to ground herself.

He kneads her breast with his other hand, and wraps his lips back around her other nipple, consuming just about all of her senses. She was panting and moaning and squeezing around his fingers. He feels her pulse around him and her legs twitch as she comes to her release.

“Shit.” She breathes with a smile on her face. “You’re good at that.”

“Don’t it’ll go right to my head.” He smirks. “Let me go get a condom.” He kisses her forehead before getting up to rummage through his desk drawer.

Y/N wriggles out of her now drenched panties, and tosses them somewhere on the floor, and gets more comfortable on his bed. As good as the office sex was she was sort of happy to be somewhere they could do a little more.

“Ready for me?” He asks as he gets on the bed.

“Mhm.”

He parts her legs and gets situated between them, running his tip along her folds and clit. She lifts her hips towards him, and it makes him good knowing how impatient she was. He pushes inside her and bottoms out.

“Jesus!” She gasps.

“You’re so fucking tight.” He grunts as he starts to move.

“I think you’re just big.” She moans as he rocks in and out of her. “Not complaining though.”

He comes down closer to her, and hooks one of her legs under his arm to thrust in deeper. It has her head rolling back. She gets a fistful of his hair and he moans as she tugs on it.

“You like that, huh?” She says into his ear and she feels him nod yes. Harry nibbles on her earlobe before responding.

“What do you like?” His deep voice in hear ear was enough to send her flying to the moon.

“God, anything you wanna do to me I think I’d like.” He moves to look at her with a raise eyebrow. “Within reason of course.”

“Wanna get on top?”

“Sure.”

He pulls out and shifts to sit up against the headboard. She was a little surprised since most guys liked to lay flat when she rode them, but she wasn’t going to watch him on it. She swings her leg of his lap to properly sink down on him. When she starts to move he stops her.

“I wanted you on top, that doesn’t mean you need to do anything.” He pecks her lips and thrusts him into her, her mouth forming an ‘O’. “Deeper, yeah?”

“Yeah.” She licks into his mouth as he grips her hips to move her on and off his cock. “Fuck.” She whispers in his ear. She was going to come soon, and she knew it. She wanted to hold on a little longer, but she also just really wanted to let go. “H-Harry, fuck, I-“

“Go on, come, Y/N.”

She cries out into his neck, tugging his hair maybe a little too hard. She just misses the moan he lets out as he spills into the condom. They stay there like that for a moment before she gets off him.

“Bathroom?” She says, reaching for the shirt he was wearing earlier.

“Just down the hall on the left.”

“Great, thanks.” She slips out the door and Harry gets his boxers on after throwing the condom out. She comes back in and shines her flashlight on the floor to find her clothes. “It’s really late, you can crash if you want.”

“Oh, that’s alright.” She says. “I’ll sleep better in my own bed. Besides, the last thing I need to run into any of the students on my way home in the morning.”

“Do you, um, work at the university?” He hadn’t even thought to ask.

“Yeah.” She tugs her jeans on and snatches her shirt from the floor.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“Why didn’t you message me after matched?”

“Oh.” She blushes. “I don’t know…I like doing these things in person better.”

“Me too. I only swiped to see if you did.”

“So, you’re not, like, seeing anyone else?”

“Not on the regular, no. What about you?” She shakes her head no at him. “Do you want my number?”

“And what would I do with it?” She smirks.

“Use it to give me a heads up if you’re coming to the bar or…or if you just want me after one of my shifts.” She bites her bottom lip and hands him her phone. He puts his number in and texts himself. “Can I give you a ride home or anything?”

“No, I’m parked right out on the street, actually, but thank you.”

“Well, let me at least walk you out there.”

“Okay.”

Harry throws on some sweats and leads Y/N out. He walks her down to her car, and he presses her up against it, kissing her before letting her go. Once her car is out of sight he heads back up to his room. He wasn’t sure how often they’d communicate, but at least he knew if she didn’t feel like waiting for him in the bar, they could just plan it out better.

Y/N didn’t want to come off as greedy or clingy. She didn’t want to text him every time she felt like getting railed, but she couldn’t stop thinking about his dick, or how he used it. He was careful and aggressive all at the same time. She could tell he respected her, maybe all women in general, just by the way he would check in. It was a wonder to her how no one else was fucking him, well, maybe they were. Just because he said he didn’t have anything else on the regular didn’t mean he didn’t have an assortment of numbers in his phone. The following Saturday night she couldn’t sleep, and before she even had a chance to text him, he texted her.

Harry: you up?

Now, usually a text like that would make her eyes roll out of her head, but it was nice coming from him. He was clearly up because it was one in the morning and he was working. If anything it was courteous.

Y/N: yeah

Harry: how come?

Y/N: couldn’t sleep

Harry: maybe I could come tire you out when I get off work

Y/N: you know, I love a home remedy as opposed to taking a pill, so that sounds good to me, I’ll text you my address

Harry: 👍

Y/N bites her bottom lip and springs out of bed. She wanted to tidy up a little before he got there. Maybe they could just fuck on her couch or something. She wasn’t sure if she wanted him in her room just yet, but it might not be up to her when he gets there. She’d let him fuck her where he wanted. She wanted to make herself look cute, but she wasn’t sure how much he’d really care. She decides to change into a tank top and shorts as she waits for him.

Around 2:15AM there’s a knock on her door, jolting her awake from the couch.

“I’m getting too old for this.” She says as she rubs her eyes. She gets up and opens the door for him. “Hi, Ha-mph!”

He cuts her off by cupper her jaw and kissing her. He kicks her door closed, and picks her up.

“Sorry I’m late, where’s your room?” The girl simply points him in the direction of where to go and she lets him carry her there. “I even tried to leave early, but these idiots were causing problems.” He says as he gets his shoes and socks off, along with his shirt. “I had to break up this fight and it was a whole thing.” He unbuckles his belt and lets his pants drop to the floor.

“No worries, I figured you’d get here eventually.” She shrugs and works on getting herself naked. “You promised to help tire me out, after all.”

“That I did.” He smirks and pulls her towards him for a searing kiss.

Harry pushes her back on the bed, and kisses down her body. Her skin felt soft and smelled cocoa butter, she must have put lotion on before he got there. He looks up at her just as he reaches her naval.

“Can I?”

“Can you what?”

“Eat you out.”

“Oh! Um, only if you really want to.”

“Do you want me to?”

“Well, yeah, but only if you want to also. I don’t like when guys just do it to do it, you know?”

“I can assure you that’s not the type of guy I am.”

“Okay.”

He kisses and sucks on her inner thigh, marking her up, and then he licks a flat stripe up her center. He does this a few times, just getting a feel for how she tastes, and then he swirls the tip of his tongue around her clit.

“Shit.” She breathes. “Found it pretty fast.” She pushes some hair out of his face as he smirks up at her.

“S’not rocket science.”

Before she can say anything she’s gasping as he sucks on her clit. She gets a grip on his hair as she grits her teeth. He works her up, almost to the brink, and then he drags his tongue around her folds. He licks into her center and she cries out from the warm feeling of his tongue. His thumb rubs circles into her clit as continues to give her the best head she’s ever had. Every time he moaned against her she moaned louder. She couldn’t believe he was enjoying it so much. Her legs were starting to shake around him and she just wanted to close him in around her, but he had his other hand pressed firmly on one of her thighs to keep her open.

“Oh my god, oh my god!” Her back arches off the bed as she comes on his tongue. He laps her up before kissing up her body. “Let me put my mouth on you too.”

“Don’t have to tell me twice.” He lays down next to her. “But come sit on me and I’ll do you at the same time.”

“Fuck, really?”

“Yeah.”

Y/N feels giddy as she situates herself over Harry’s head. She leans forward to get him out of his boxers. His hard dick slaps back against his stomach. She spits into her and grips him. She feels him jolt underneath her and she chuckles. She wasn’t sure how she was supposed to concentrate on giving him a blow job while he was slurping away at her again, but she’d do her best. She gives him a few pumps before wrapping her lips around his tip. He groans into her and squeezes the backs of her thighs. She sinks lower on him and bobs up and down. She has to dig her nails into one of his thighs to keep herself from gagging on him. She decides to focus on sucking his tip and pumping the rest.

“I’m gonna come if you keep doing that.” He tells hers, but she doesn’t let up. He starts panting and fingers her because he just can’t use his mouth on her right now.

“Oh, fuck, don’t’ stop.” She pops off him to say and then goes back to sucking him off.

She comes around his fingers just as his hot come shoots up into her throat. He hears her gulp as she swallows and then she licks his tip clean. She rolls off him and giggles, he giggles too, and she props herself up on her elbows to look at him.

“What?”

“Think that’s the first time I’ve heard you laugh.”

“Chalk it up to being lightheaded.” He sighs. “Just give me a minute, and then I’ll fuck you.”

“If you’re too tired, we don’t have to-“

“M’not tired, I just need a second.” He gives her ankle a squeeze.

“Want some water?”

“Sure, that’d be great.”

She gets up and quickly shuffles into her kitchen to get a glass of water. She takes a sip first before going back into her bedroom. She hands it to him and he thanks her. She knees onto the bed and sits next to him.

“You have condoms?” He asks.

“Mhm.” She reaches over into her bed side table takes one out.

“Alright, I’m ready if you are.” He says, taking it from her.

“If I lay on my stomach, will you get on top and fuck me from behind?”

“Uh, yeah.” He clears his throat. He liked a girl that was blunt and forward.

She smiles and gets on her stomach for him. He parts her lips and slides in, she was still plenty wet. She groans into her pillow as he rocks in and out of her. He snakes his hand between her and the bed to rub her clit.

“God, you’re so attentive.” She says, looking over her shoulder at him in amazement.

He smirks at her and gives her a bum a smack before pushing her head back down into the pillow. His chest was flush with her back, and they were moving in a perfect rhythm with each other. She was white knuckling her blankets feeling the damn about to break again.

“Oh, shit, fuck, Harry!” She cries out as she comes again. He gives her a few harsh thrusts before he fills the condom up. Once he pulls out she rolls onto her back. “Trash is over there.” She breathes, pointing to the can in the corner.

“Thanks.”

“I’ll be right back.” She gets up and slips out to use the bathroom. He’s just pulling his boxers on when she comes back. She throws on a large tee shirt to cover herself up a bit.

“Tired now?” He smirks at her.

“Very.” She chuckles. “Um…it’s, like, almost four in the morning…you can stay if you don’t feel like driving.”

“Oh, um, that would be great actually…if you’re sure.”

“Yeah, I don’t mind.”

Harry nods and stands up.

“Bathroom?”

“Just outside the door on the right.”

“Thanks.”

Y/N hadn’t let a guy sleep over in a while, but it would only be for a few hours, so it wasn’t that big of a deal. Harry comes back in a few moments later smelling like mint.

“Used some of your mouth wash, hope that’s alright.”

“It’s fine.” She smiles and gets settled into bed with him. “Well, goodnight.”

“Night.”

She rolls over and he turns with her, spooning her. She adjusts into him, getting especially comfy, and before she knows it, she’s drifting off, and so is he.

The next morning, Y/N wakes up to the sounds of Harry rustling about getting his clothes on.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“It’s okay.” She yawns with a stretch of her arms. “Do you want me to make some coffee or…?”

“No, I’m gonna crash when I get back, I just wanted to get out of your hair.” He runs a hand through his hair. “That was fun, last night.”

“Mhm.” She smiles and curls up in her blankets. “It’s been fun every time.”

“What if, uh, I mean, would you want to make this a regular thing? My schedule is the way it is, so relationships are tough, but this…is easier.”

“Yeah, I mean, I don’t want a relationship right now, but having sex with a hot guy is certainly something I’d like to continue doing.”

“So that’s a yes?”

“Yes.”

“Cool.” He smiles and knees onto the bed to peck her lips.

“What time does your shift usually start? Not that I don’t love waiting up until after two in the morning, but I’m not usually awake that late.”

“Oh, right, um, I usually go in around seven. I help out at the end of the dinner rush. Get the place set up and all that.”

“I usually get out of work around 4:30 most days…”

“I typically have Sundays and Mondays off too, just FYI.”

“You know, I think this could work out well.” She smiles.

“So do I.” He kisses her again before getting off the bed. “I’ll text you later, or, I don’t know maybe you could text me first.” He says sarcastically.

“I was actually going to text you last night, but you got to me first.” She giggles.

“Right.” He rolls his eyes. “See ya later, Y/N.”

“Bye, Harry.”

“You’ve been exceptionally chipper lately.” Y/N’s colleague, Lilly, says at lunch on Monday.

“I’m getting laid, that’s why.” Y/N was close with Lilly, it wasn’t unusual for them to have a conversation like this.

“Oh? With who?”

“Do you ever go down to the Yard Dog?”

“The bar where all the students go?” She laughs. “No.”

“Okay, well I go there when my friends come to visit because it’s nostalgic for us, you know? Anyways, there’s this bouncer that works there…and one thing led to another one night and I fucked him in the back office of the building.”

“Oh shit.”

“I know! And then we matched on Bumble a little later, so I went to the bar again, and I waited for him and we fucked at his place, and then the other day he came to my place. We have a regular thing going now.”

“Damn…is it the British guy?”

“Yeah! His name is Harry, do you know him?”

“Yeah, I recruited him for the MBA program.” Lilly worked with international students at the graduate level. Y/N worked in grad admissions as well, but at the domestic level. “I told him to look for a job down there, guess he listened.”

“He’s nice enough, quiet, and sort of intimidating, but he’s nice to me.”

“Well, that’s all that matters.” She laughs. “When do you think you’ll see him again?”

“I don’t know…I was thinking of texting him to come over tonight because he doesn’t work on Monday nights…is that too eager?”

“No way. It’s been established that you’re using each other for a specific service, I say go for it.”

“Right, like, it’s just sex, it’s not like I need to make him dinner or anything.”

“Don’t offer him any food at all. As soon as you share a meal with the person you’re sleeping with, it becomes more.”

“Shit, you’re right…good call.”

“It’s what I’m here for.”

After lunch Y/N goes back to her office and contemplates texting Harry. It really shouldn’t be this difficult, they agreed to make it a regular thing, she should be able to just let him know what she wants.

Y/N: hey, Harry…are you free around 7 tonight?

She sent it, and took a deep breath. It’s fine, this is fine.

Harry: I can be, my place or yours?

She nearly squeals when she sees the response.

Y/N: could we do mine if it’s not too much trouble?

Harry: no trouble at all, see you then

“I could give him some wine or something.” She says to herself. “I know I’ll need to have a glass.”

Y/N wasn’t sure what she should wear. Should she stay in her work clothes, which she looked awfully cute in, or should she put something sexier on? Would he even care? She groans to herself as she goes to change into a nicer set of underwear. Maybe he’d appreciate some lace.

“I should really go shopping for some lingerie.” She huffs. Y/N did, however, have a silk robe, so that paired with the lacey underwear would be good enough.

She goes into her kitchen and gets two glasses down, and fills one just under halfway with some sweet red wine. She takes a generous sip, and sighs. There’s a knock at the door, and she goes to answer. She has to keep herself from drooling when she sees him. He was dressed so differently. Usually he was in all black, but tonight he was wearing a long sleeve blue shirt with the first few buttons undone, and a dark blue pair of jeans. He was wearing a black jacket to tie the whole thing together along with a beanie.

“Hey, come on in.” She smiles as he steps inside.

“Getting bloody cold out.” He says as you close the door. “You look cozy.”

“Cozy?” She pouts at him.

“Cute.” He says as he shrugs his jacket off. She unties her robe to slightly reveal how little she has on underneath. “Sexy.”

“Much better.” She giggles. “Would you like a glass of wine or anything?”

“No, thanks.”

He grabs her and holds her from behind. He kisses her cheek, her jaw, and then her neck. She cranes it to give him better access, and he walks her over to the couch. He slides her robe off and turns her around.

“Very sexy.” He pecks her lips. “You wore this for me?”

“I just wanted to look nice.” She starts unbuttoning the rest of his shirt. “Let’s go to the bedroom, it’s comfier.”

Harry nods and follows her in. He cups her jaw as she undoes his pants, and he licks into her mouth. She palms him over his boxers, and he bucks closer into her hand.

“Really wanted my dick tonight, hm?”

“Mhm.”

She puts her hands on his hips and pushes him to sit down on the bed. She sucks on his bottom lips and kisses her way down his stomach until she’s on her knees in front of him. She tugs his boxers off and looks up at him as she wraps her lips around his tip. He runs a soothing hand through her hair and keeps it out of her face for her. She sinks lower on him before popping all the way off and taking him in her hand. She brings her lips back to his tip and just rubs it around her low lip before licking over his slit.

“Feels amazing, Y/N.” His head rolls back momentarily, but he doesn’t want to miss a second, so he forces himself to look back down. “I don’t wanna wait to fuck you…”

She sucks on him a little longer before getting back up. She takes a condom out from one of the cups of her bra and hands it to him as she wiggles out of her panties. She unhooks her bra and lets it drop to the floor. He grabs her hips and turns her around. She sits in his lap as he lines himself up and she moans out. He reaches around front to rub her clit while she moves up and down on him. She turns to face him and she licks into his mouth. She swallows a groan from him. His other hand kneads her breast, and he kisses on her shoulder, biting down just enough to make her gasp. Her head rolls back to his shoulder.

“H-Harry.” She whimpers.

He thrusts up inside her, and she loses all control. She lets him move her, bounce her, whatever she wants. His fingers on her clit felt incredible. Y/N had hooked up with plenty of guys, but Harry was so different. He was attentive. He asked the important questions, and nothing more. She didn’t need to get to know him other than his body, and he felt the same way about her. This was perfect.

“Y/N I’m gonna come.” He grunts into her ear.

“M-me too.” She pants.

She feels him fill up the condom just as she’s coming around him. He peppers her neck and shoulder with kisses before he helps her off of him. She grabs a tee shirt to throw on while he grabs all of his clothes to get dressed.

“Thanks for coming by.” She says as she walks him to the door.

“Thanks for the invite.” He smirks as he gets his beanie back on.

“I felt bad since it was sort of short notice.”

“Gave you my number for a reason, didn’t I? Never be afraid to use it.” He hooks an arm around her waist and pulls her in for a kiss. “Have a good night.”

“You too.” She smiles and so does he. He leaves shortly after that.

Y/N finishes her glass of wine, takes a shower, and puts herself to sleep. She fell asleep with a smile on her face.

Things continued you like that for a few weeks. Sometimes Y/N would go over to Harry’s before his shift for a quickie, or if she could stay up, he’d zip over to her place after his shift. If it was a particularly late night, they would sleepover, but other than that they wouldn’t. Not that the either didn’t offer, they were both polite people.

“You seeing that girl again this weekend?” Niall says to Harry as he whips up dinner on Thursday.

“No, I have a weekend intensive, I’m getting an elective out of the way.”

“Are you still working?!”

“I am tonight, but I have Friday and Saturday night off. I couldn’t pass up the tips on ladies night.”

“I hear that.” Niall sets a plate of pancakes in front of Harry.

“Thanks.” He takes a bite. “Do you think I should let her know I won’t be around this weekend?”

“Like ahead of time?”

“Yeah, like, what if she texts me expecting me to come right over and I can’t? I’d feel bad.”

“You could just sext with her.” Niall smirks as he takes a bite of his own pancakes. “You said she was pretty good at that.”

“She’s better than good. She’s a fucking wordsmith.” Harry smiles. “But I’ll be working on the rest of the projects for class, so I won’t have time for that either.”

“So give her a heads up, then no one needs to feel rejected.” Niall shrugs.

“Maybe I should tell her in person, I’m a gentleman after all.”

“Or you wanna bone one more time before having to focus on school.”

“Let’s go with both.”

Harry: wanna come over quick before my shift?

Y/N: god yes, stressful day at work, definitely need the distraction

Harry: cool, come by whenever

“She’s coming over, make yourself scarce.” Harry says to Niall.

“You got it, I’m actually going down to bus some tables for a little extra money.”

Y/N comes over to Harry’s about twenty minutes later, and barely gives him a chance to say hello before she’s kissing him. He carries her to his room, and finally gets a breath in.

“How do you want it, Y/N?” He says against her lips as his hands slide down to her ass.

“I want you to bend me over the bed and fuck me so hard I forget my own name.”

Both of his eyebrows shoot up.

“Shit, you really did have a stressful day, huh?” He caresses one of her cheeks.

“Yeah, I did.” She bites her bottom lip. “But I didn’t come here to talk about it.”

He kisses her again and starts undoing her pants. He knew what she needed, and he was happy to give it to her. Normally he would have taken more time to prep her, but he really did need to be quick so he wasn’t late for work. Once they’re both naked, and he has a condom on, he bends her over his bed, and pushes inside her. She clutches at the blankets as he slams in and out of her.

“Just like that, fuck, Harry!” She moves her ass back against him to feel even more, and it makes him moan out.

“You’re so fucking sexy.” He grunts. “Like it when I give it to you like this?”

“Yes!”

“I want you to come for me.”

“I’m really close, just keep going.” She was starting to pant and squirm.

“Yeah? You’re close?”

“So close, I..oh fuck!”

She releases around him, and he spills into the condom shortly after. He pulls out and helps her stand up. She faces him and wraps her arms around his neck. She slots her mouth over his and he groans into it.

“Fuck, I…I wanna go again, but it would look bad to be late when I live right here.”

“No, it’s okay, um…I’m gonna be busy this weekend, like, I’ll even barely be on my phone.”

“Me too, actually, it’s why I invited you over tonight.” He smiles and steps back to throw the condom away. She starts putting her clothes back on.

“How kind of you.” She laughs as she wipes the smudged makeup under her eyes.

“Feeling better?” He asks as he puts his own clothes on. The ones she’s more familiar with.

“Yeah, thanks.” She smiles. “It’s too bad you have to get right to work.” She puts her hands on his shoulders. “These black shirts look too fucking good on you.”

“Really? I always thought it was the tight jeans.” He smirks.

“That too, your ass is perfect.” She gives him a little pinch and pecks his lips. “Guess we’ll just talk next week?”

“Yeah, sounds good.”

“Okay, have a good weekend.”

“You too.”

Harry sighs happily as he goes into his bathroom to fix his hair before his shift. He grabs his jacket and heads down to go outside and starting manning the door. It was the same as ever, lots of pretty girls flirting with him, and him having to turn half of them away because they’re underage. Later on Harry and one of the bartenders to take bets to see who Niall was going to take home later.

“What about you?” Ryan says. “Gonna try to get lucky?”

“Nah, got my fill earlier.” Harry says as he wipes down the bar with a rag. “Plus, all these girls are wasted, you know I don’t play that.”

“True, you’re definitely one of the good ones.” He claps his hand on Harry’s shoulder and gives him a squeeze before going to grab more empty glasses.

Harry didn’t see it like that. Guy or girl, if someone was drunk, he declined any offer he got. It just didn’t feel right to him.

Y/N had the day off from work Friday, but only because she had a weekend intensive for grad school. It was an elective she was trying to get out of the way. All of the other classes she had to take were online, but she thought it would be nice to just get this over with in a weekend. It would be a class of twelve people, she just hoped it wouldn’t be awkward.

She gets into the building, and finds the classroom. A couple of people were there already. She finds a spot to sit down and set her things up. There was a poster that was due on the first day. Weekend intensives involved a lot of prep work. She gets her laptop out and sips on her coffee.

Harry was exhausted. He didn’t get off work until nearly 2:30 because people didn’t want to leave the bar. When his alarm went off, he was not looking forward to spending the day with a bunch of people he didn’t know. He was interested in the subject matter, and almost excited to present his poster, he just could have easily done it all in an online class. His eyes were too tired for contacts, so he goes for his glasses. He throws his beanie on, a sweater, and a nice pair of jeans, and heads out. He grabs a cup of coffee before heading for the academic building. He walks in and scans the room. There were a few people there. His eyes widen when he sees Y/N. He wasn’t sure what do. Should he ignore her? Should he sit next to her? Before he can decide she happens to look up and make eye contact with him. He sighs and makes his way over to her table and sits down.

“Thought you just worked here.” He says as he sets his things down.

“I do…but I’m also in grad school. I’m taking this as an elective.”

“Same here. What program are you in?”

“Education, you?”

“MBA.”

“Nice.” She nods. “And here we were thinking we wouldn’t see each other all weekend.”

“Mm, lucky us.” He smirks.

“I didn’t know you wore glasses.” She rests her chin on her palm.

“Something tells me we’re going to get to know each other fairly well in the next forty-eight hours.” He leans back in his chair with his arms crossed. “You okay with that?”

“I don’t quite think I have a choice. It’s not the end of the world, it’s sort of nice to know someone.”

“Yeah, we could grab lunch or something.” He says it nonchalantly as he takes his laptop out of his bag.

“Yeah.” She nods. “Or something.” She winks at him and he smiles as he rolls his eyes.

The professor comes in shortly after, and has everyone sit in a circle. Everyone explains what program they’re in, why they’re in grad school, and what career aspirations they may have. Y/N and Harry were already learning a lot about each other. For example, he thought it was extremely ironic that Y/N recruited students to come get their grad degrees, and she herself didn’t have one yet.

Next, the professor had them all work on a craft project. They had to build these towers that had all these different components. They could listen to their own music and just work away. Harry and Y/N occasionally glanced at each other, but they did their best to focus.

“Okay everyone, it’s time for lunch! Afterwards, we’ll come back and present our towers.” The professor says.

They look at each other awkwardly.

“Our break is an hour and a half.” Harry says to her.

“I don’t need that long to eat, do you?”

“Nah, well…” He smirks at her and she blushes.

“I don’t live that far from here, um…if you wanna just come to my place to eat.”

“Sure.” He shrugs. “Want me to drive, or?”

“No, I can.” She grabs her keys and he follows her out.

Once they’re in Y/N’s apartment, he’s got her laying on the couch with his head between her legs. She tugs at his hair as she squirms underneath him.

“I-I thinking you were hungry than you let on!”

He groans against her in response, and slides two fingers into her as he sucks on her clit. He looks up at her/ She looks down at him, confused for a moment, and then her mouth falls open when he slides a third finger inside her. He pumps them in and out of her slowly to not hurt her. His tongue flicks back and forth on her clit, and she tugs harder on his hair.

“H-Harry!” Her back arches as she comes. He sits up and licks his lips, and his fingers, before undoing his pants. He tugs them down enough to get his dick out. “Condom.” She breathes and points to the side table.

“You keep them in your living room now?” He chuckles as he reaches into the drawer to get one.

“Are you making fun of easy access?”

“Not at all, you’re resourceful.”

He rolls the condom on and moves to hover her. He pushes inside and she wraps her legs around his waist. He bites her bottom lip and sucks on it as he rocks in and out of her. He bottoms out and she gasps. He smirks against her lips and keeps thrusting into the same spot.

“Oh my god.” She moans. “Fuck, that feels so good.”

“Right there?”

“Yeah, right there, don’t stop.” Her breathing gets heavier, and he can feel her tightening around him. She cries out as she comes, and he follows suit.

On the drive back to campus things are quiet, but not uncomfortable. They both head into the classroom, and sit down. Harry takes out the lunch he packed and digs in, Y/N does the same. Once everyone is back, the professor has the class present their towers. It was an oddly emotional experience. Some tears were shed, and there was no judgement whatsoever. Y/N was stunned when it was Harry’s turn. He got choked up when he had to talk about his family. It was just him and his sister. They both needed a change of scenery, so he came to get his grad degree in the states, and she moved to France. That was about all he was willing to say, which was fine.

After the towers are done, there’s a quick bathroom break, and then they get into the poster presentations. Harry found Y/N to be extremely intelligent. She clearly knew what she was talking about. He briefly wondered how such a smart, beautiful girl could be single. Then again, he knew how little free time there was while working full time and going to school. He knew he didn’t have time for a relationship, anyways. Nor was he emotionally available enough for one, but that was a separate story.

“I want to thank you all for the wonderful work you did today. Nothing to work on tonight, as I know today was draining. Tomorrow, we’ll be talking about the readings that were assigned ahead of time.”

It was 8PM, and Y/N was exhausted. Harry happened to park in the same lot as her, so he walks her to her car.

“That was better than I was expecting.” She says.

“Yeah, wasn’t terrible. Sort of flew by.”

“I can’t wait to crawl into bed and just pass out.”

“Same here.” He hits the unlock button for his car. He runs a hand through his hair. “Well, see you tomorrow.”

“See you tomorrow.” She smiles. “Thanks for the afternoon delight earlier.”

“Please, it was my pleasure.” He winks and opens his car door.

“Harry, wait, uh…”

“Yeah?”

“You live above the bar right?”

“Um…yeah?”

“Well, it’s bound to be pretty loud, how will you sleep?”

“Noise cancelling headphones.”

“Oh.”

“Why?”

“Well, I was thinking you could come back to place if you wanted.”

“Thought you were ready to pass out.”

“I feel like I’m so exhausted that I won’t be able to sleep.” She laughs. “Would be nice to be able to roll over and have the person there that’s usually good to make me fall asleep.”

“I like the way you think. Let me just grab some clothes from my place and then I’ll head over.”

“Sounds good.”

Harry comes over to Y/N’s, and needless to say after a couple rounds they both sleep pretty well. He was snuggled up against her when her alarm goes off.

“I need to shower.” She yawns. “Feel free to sleep a little longer.”

“I could go for a shower, actually.” His hand drifts down between her legs and she starts rubbing her folds.

“Please tell me you wanna fuck in the shower.”

“I wanna fuck in the shower.”

“Race you!” Y/N kicks the covers back and sprints to her bathroom. Harry wasn’t too far behind.

Once they’re in the water, he has her pressed up against the wall. He fingers her, slow at first, and then he picks up the pace. She wraps her hand around him and pumps him at the same time. Her other hand squeezes at his chest, leaving crescent shaped marks behind. They come at the same time, and then take turns actually showering.

Harry gets dressed while Y/N is still in the bathroom, doing her morning skin care. He stands in the bathroom doorway for a moment.

“So, I’m gonna head out, you good?”

“Yeah, go on.” She waves him off. “See you in a little while.”

“I’m gonna grab coffee, do you want anything?”

“No! No, um, that’s okay, I’ll just make my own here, uh, thanks though.”

“Alright.” He shrugs. “See ya.”

Harry sits next to Y/N again in class. She enjoyed listening to him speak about the readings. She shouldn’t be surprised at how articulate he could be. Sometimes when they sent explicit texts her would write these paragraphs describing the things he would do to her.

It was another long day. This time around, Y/N was truly exhausted, and wasn’t in the mood to fuck, so she doesn’t offer to Harry to spend the night again, not that he was expecting her to. He walks her to her car, and they say goodnight.

Sunday was a half day, and time for reflection on their final papers. As they were packing up at the end of class, curiosity takes over Y/N.

“So, how many more credits do you need?”

“Not sure, honestly. I just know I have another year and half. What about?”

“I have, like, five more classes to take. I can only do a couple per semester. I’m done until end of January, which is nice.”

“I wish more of my classes were online. I have a class that meets twice a week in the afternoons, so my break won’t start for another few weeks.”

“Do you…see your sister often? Like, will you spend the holidays with her?”

“Y/N, we don’t have to do this.” He says as he slings his bag over his shoulder. They start walking out together.

“Do what?”

“This.” He gestures between them. “I sort of like that we don’t know a ton about each other. It makes it easier just to meet up and do what we do, you know?”

“Oh! Yeah, I completely agree…I just…” She stops when they reach their cars.

“You’re a compassionate person, I can see that. I do see my sister. We FaceTime when we can, and we take turns visiting. I spend the holidays with my roommate, he’s one of the other bouncers. I’m going to France for a bit this summer when I’ll have more free time. Any other questions?” He smiles at her.

“Nope, that’s about all I wanted to know.” She smiles back. “I’ll see you soon.”

“See you soon.”

Mike: the boys are coming to town this weekend, be ready to get fucked up!

Y/N: god bless, I love boys weekend!

Y/N goes over to Mike’s Friday night, and they all pregame before heading to the bar. As they approach, she realizes she forgot to give Harry a heads up that she was coming. His eyes widen when he sees her.

“Where’s your coat?” He asks immediately.

“I…didn’t need it.” She blushes.

He rolls his eyes as he checks everyone else’s ID’s.

“It’s cold out…” He frowns at her. “And you’re wearing a crop top and jeans.”

“Don’t worry, dude, we’ll keep her plenty warm.” Drew says and throws an arm around her shoulders. “Let’s go.”

She giggles and goes inside with her friends. It puts a sour taste in his mouth. Obviously he didn’t own her, and he knew they had to be just friends, but he wondered if she had a past with any of them.

Y/N and her friends do three rounds of tequila shooters before hitting the dance floor. Harry was at the point of the night where he was inside the bar helping out. One of the bartenders snaps her fingers at him and points at two idiots who were demanding to be served more. Harry grabs Niall and they make the people leave. When Harry gets back inside he sees Y/N on the dancefloor grinding against Rob, and Conor. They were all laughing, but he didn’t like what he was seeing at all. If she needed something to grind against, all she had to do was ask.

“I’m gonna go to the ladies room!” She shouts at them, and leaves the dance floor to go wait in line.

She sees Harry and who she assumes is Niall walk by everyone and pound on the door. Harry kicks the door open and finds three people doing lines off the bathroom counter.

“Jesus Christ.” Niall groans. “You can’t be doing that in here!”

Harry and Niall grab the guys, and they struggle at first, but they get them out of the bathroom.

“Now we have to fucking call the police.” Harry says as he basically picks one of them up by the back of their shirt. “Tom’s gonna love this.”

“Doing fucking drugs in the bathroom, grow up boys.” Niall says and Y/N watches as they get them out of the bar.

“Holy shit.” She says to herself.

Around last call, Y/N sees Harry behind the bar cleaning up. She goes up and sits down on one of the few open stools. She taps her finger nails on the bar and he looks at her. She pouts and bats her lashes at him.

“You can come up later, but I’m not fucking you.”

“Why not?”

“You’re drunk.”

“We’ve had sex before after I’ve been drinking.” She scoffs.

“Not like this, you’ve had a lot. I saw the tab.”

“So then why would you want me to come up if we can’t fuck?”

“Because…I…where would you go otherwise?”

“Back to Mike’s.” She points over at her friends. “We do, like, a group sleepover when they come visit, it’s fun.” Harry scrunches his face slightly at that. “What?”

“You all stay in the same bed?”

“No, don’t be silly, I usually end up sleeping in Mike’s bed with him, and one of the other guys. We did it a lot when we were all in school together.”

“Is that all you did?” Harry plants both of his hands on the bar and cocks his head. “With them?”

“Are you asking me if I’ve ever slept with one of them? Because that’s really none of your business.”

“From the way you were dancing with them I didn’t even think you’d be looking to go home with me.” She starts giggling and smiling at him. “What?”

“I just didn’t you could get any cuter, and here you are being a jealous little thing.”

“I’m not jealous.” He scoffs.

“Really? So it wouldn’t bother you if I went back with all of them, and tugged one of them into the bathroom with me, and got all hot and naked?”

“Nope.” He smirks. “Because you’d be thinking of me the whole time, babe.” He leans forward and pecks her lips. “Or am I wrong about that?”

“So I can really come up when you’re done?”

“Yeah, but no hanky panky.” She bursts out laughing at that.

“I am totally down to just cuddle.”

“Better tell them that.” He nods towards the group of boys and she turns around. She waves goodbye to them and they all give her a thumbs up. “They’re a supportive group, huh?”

“You have no idea.”

Y/N was doing her best to stay awake, sipping on some water at the bar, while Harry was running around cleaning up. Her eyes flutter closed for a moment when she feels his hand on her back.

“M’all set.” He says.

“Okay.” She yawns. “Think I’m sober now if you wanna get a little frisky.” She wobbles a bit as she gets on her feet.

“Mhm, yeah.” He chuckles. “Come on booze-bag, let’s get you up to bed.”

“Heyyy, don’t be mean.” She swats at his chest. “I only drink like this when my boyfriends come to town.”

He rolls his eyes as he helps her up the stairs to his apartment. He gets her into the bathroom first, using a warm washcloth to help take her makeup off. She giggles and sighs as he does so. Harry could be really gentle when he wanted to be. He gives her some privacy when she needs to use the toilet, and then he leads her into his room.

“Alright, you can have the Kiss shirt for bed.”

“Oh, my favorite!”

He chuckles and helps her out of her clothes, and into the bed shirt. He strips down to his boxers and gets into bed with her. She lays her head right on his chest.

“Why didn’t you wear a coat tonight?”

“I got drunk at Mike’s and felt too warm to wear it when we made our way to the bar. Why do you care so much?”

“I saw on the news once that a lot of college girls get sick or get hypothermia from not dressing warm enough on their ways to parties or whatever. It’s scary.” She shifts to look up at him. He moves some hair away from her face. “I got nervous when I saw you walking up.”

“You were worried about me?”

“A little.” He clears his throat. “But to be fair, I worry about everyone I see dressed like that.”

“Mm, nice save.”

“Shut up.” He smirks. “You’re only here so I can fuck you in the morning.”

“Got that right. You could fuck me now if you wanted.”

“No, I couldn’t.” He strokes her cheek. “It wouldn’t be right.” He says softly. “Try and sleep, yeah?”

“Okay.” She mumbles and nuzzles into his chest.

He plays with her hair until her breathing evens out. He rolls over onto his side, and he feels her tighten her hold around his stomach. It had been quite some time since Harry let someone spoon him, but right now it just felt nice. He puts his hand over hers, just to give her a comforting squeeze, but she ends up lacing her fingers with his. He doesn’t pull away, he just lets it be. He knows he’s fucked now, of course, but he tells himself he’ll worry about it after some sleep.

Part Two

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles y/n #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfic #harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #harry styles fluff #harry styles smut #harry styles smut fic #bouncer!Harry #bouncerry #regular thing

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wangxianficrecs · 3 years

Text

❤️live from new york by varnes

❤️live from new york

by varnes

E, 87k, wangxian

Summary: Wei Ying lets out a long, ugly groan. “I am fine, Lan Zhan. Everybody is overreacting, it’s so embarrassing for all of you.”

“You had undiagnosed pneumonia, which you walked around with for weeks until you passed out during dress,” Lan Wangji corrects him. “It got a big laugh, until everyone thought you were dead.”

He keeps his voice even and does not tell Wei Ying that it had been Lan Wangji who caught him, who called the ambulance, and who rode with him to the hospital, where he was yelled at by nurses who wanted to know why he hadn’t noticed that Wei Ying couldn’t stop shivering or string proper sentences together.

“Rumors of my demise have been vastly overstated,” Wei Ying says. “Anyway, I’m already feeling much better. Basically fine. Really almost completely back to normal, so stop babying me and tell me why the fuck you let your stupid brother hire the worst man in the world to host our show.”

OR: the one where they all work at SNL, Yanli's ex-boyfriend is hosting, and that's just the beginning of everybody's problems.

My comments: This was sooo funny, ohmygoodness, but also chock full of pining and withheld communication and stupidly sacrificial idiots. Author juggles an ensemble cast flawlessly, and everyone's personality shines in the rawest and most shamelessly hilarious way (I saw someone comment that they were all feral, which suits). Story is most often lwj POV (he and wwx are co-head writers) and this boy is SO IN LOVE, but doesn't want to damage what he's got, so he stays silent (mostly). Their relationship drama is subsumed in the utterly hectic week that leads up to a Saturday show (Sunday is off, Tuesdays have a hallucinatory never-ending feel, Fridays are actually much busier than Saturdays).

Excerpt 1: There is no “end” to Tuesdays. There is Tuesday, and then later Tuesday, and then midnight Tuesday, and then timeless Tuesday, when it stops being nighttime but isn’t yet morning, and then eventually the sun is up and it’s not Tuesday on the calendar but it’s still Tuesday spiritually, because no one has slept and everyone is all hopped up on caffeine and cigarettes.

Excerpt 2: Some funny bits:

“Laughter is the best medicine!” Wei Ying wheedles. “Come onnnnn, Lan Zhan, I’ve been rotting away for months and months, if someone doesn’t let me get a joke on TV in the next twenty minutes I’ll die. I’ll literally be forced to fling myself out of the Jiang family’s beautiful bay windows, and on the way down I’ll shout, ‘This was avoidable! This is because Lan Zhan wouldn’t let me punch up the promos!’ and then you’ll be fired for secondhand murder and it’ll be a tragedy like the sketch comedy circuit has never seen.”

Lan Wangji says, “Second-degree.”

“What?”

“Murder. Not secondhand.”

Wei Ying furrows his brow. “...I’ve heard it both ways,” he says. “That would make a good detective show spoof skit, though. Secondhand Murder.”

“Mn,” Lan Wangji agrees. “Murder She Wrote, but an idiot.”

“Keeps suggesting a series of increasingly implausible manners of death,” Wei Ying agrees, scribbling on the back of the takeout menu. Yanli and Lan Wangji share a look. “All the deaths are like — incredibly obvious and she goes buckwild with her theories anyway.”

“Police keep asking her to leave.”

“I want to be one of the victims,” Yanli says. “Put like, a sword right through my chest, but I’m still alive, telling the cops what happened, and she’s still like, ‘No no, that’s what the murderer wants you to think.’”

“Gruesome! Love it,” says Wei Ying, making a note.

Excerpt 3: some just plain esoteric turns of phrase:

Lan Zhan mutters, “Wei Ying,” in that voice of his. He says Wei Ying eight million times a day but never the same way twice. A mood ring of Wei Ying. Wei Wuxian wants to be fully dead about it, wholly and completely excused from this earth because of how Lan Zhan says his stupid name.

“Lan Zhan,” he sing-songs back. “Ah, Lan Zhaaaaan.”

Excerpt 4: Some gut-punches:

Wei Wuxian wants bruises; Lan Wangji wants scars.

_____________________

ETA: There's a Sequel!

It's 19k of sheer delight as our boys go to the courthouse to get hitched... only to find out they've been married for the past 3.5 years. How. How did this happen? Wwx points out that they've never had anything but married sex which is very responsible and traditional of them. But still. How do you get accidentally married???

Excerpt: “How are you so chill about this,” Wei Wuxian demands, turning his face into Lan Zhan’s palm and kissing it at the center. “I feel like someone just informed me that everyone else on the planet except me has two dicks, and you’re just like, tralala, dry cleaning.”

“It’s easier for me,” says Lan Zhan, very tenderly. “I’ve always had two dicks.”

Wei Wuxian laughs, helplessly. “Lan Zhan.”

modern au, SNL au, saturday night live, humor, comedy, pining, FOREST OF PINES, light angst, lots of jokes, ensemble cast, feels, oblivious wei wuxian, oblivious lan wangji, idiots in love, slow burn, lack of communication, self-sacrificial idiots, flirting, getting together, everyone ships it, top lan wangji, bottom wei wuxian, roommates, hijinks and shenanigans, comedian everybody, jiang siblings, friends to lovers, found family, adorable juniors, happy ending, favorite, @itsvarnes

(You may wish to REBLOG as a signal boost for this author if you like – or think others might like – this story.)

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justfanficccc · 2 years

Text

BLESSED ARE THE MEEK

Father Paul/reader

sweet lil Riley Flynn makes an appearance

WARNING nsfw/if u are offended by religious text being used in a sexy way plz don't read lmaooo

Little Lamb

“Like a Shepard he feeds his flock and gathers the lambs in his arms, holding them carefully close to his heart, leading them home.”

The week comes and goes, surprisingly you haven’t thought of him since the day you went to his house. But as Sunday approaches you are dreading it. You pull on another one of Anne's dresses that she has picked out for you and gawk at yourself in the mirror. You’re more aware of your appearance than last Sunday. “It's not Paul, it's because I embarrassed her last time. I want to make a good second impression.” You lie to yourself. Making sure to throw a sweater over your shoulders to hide the tattoo.

Church is busier than normal, the usual crowd seems to have doubled in size, and guess it's because it's the first Sunday after ash Wednesday, which you missed. Mass goes smoothly, during the homily you see Father Paul shoot you a sweet glance as if he's thanking you for your help. You smile back at him but then keep your head bowed until communion. Your sister pleads at you with her eyes asking if you’ll join her, you can’t deny her and step behind her in line shyly. As you approach the alter you feel your stomach sink as Paul comes into view, the line shortening as you take each step. Finally, as your sister takes the sacrament you bow behind her and step up to him, but in a split-second decision, you decide against taking communion and think a blessing is a better idea. You swiftly place your arms across your chest making an “X” with your forearms feeling a bit humiliated since mostly only children who haven’t been through first communion use this gesture to imply they are not “holy” enough to enjoy the body and blood of God. Father Paul smiles gently at you as you look up at him. Meeting your gaze he places his hand on your shoulder, his gentle fingers squeezing ever so slightly. “Bless you my child” he whispers sweetly as he pulls his hand away. You nod and step aside to make the sign of the cross and pass Bev as she wipes the chalice your sister had just sipped from with a small white cloth. She seems a bit put off that you didn’t receive communion but her gaze always seems disapproving.

Walking slowly hands clasped you head back to your seat. You are happy to see a familiar face, Riley, much older now than how you remember him. He looks a bit uncomfortable, much like yourself. He seems to have decided against taking communion as well, you give him a gentle nod as he looks up to meet your eyes. He looks surprised to see you, he must not have noticed you at last weekend's mass. Riley was always kind to you, you two played together as children when you visited during the summer those few times. You two didn't keep in touch much after that. In your teens, you two had seen each other once in a while when you visited your father after your parent’s divorce but you never stayed long, always leaving the day you arrived.

Maybe Riley could be a friend?

Church ended quickly after a few songs and announcements about the fundraiser this afternoon. You were actually kind of excited for it, hoping Riley would be there so you'd have someone to talk to that wasn't super religious.

Once the parishioners started filing out you took your leave as well, this time making sure not to seem too thrilled as you exited. You kept an eye on Riley as he walked with his family out of the doors. They stopped to chat with Paul.

‘’Hey.” You whispered to him softly slightly nudging his arm as you pass, he was genuinely happy to see you, you could tell. His parents greet you silently as they listen to their new priest babble about mass and the fundraiser. Riley obviously looking for a reason to escape the situation quickly interrupts, says goodbye, and follows you down the stairs. As Riley and you start chatting away you catch a glimpse of Father Paul. He was still talking to The Flynns but your quick exit seemed to have caught his attention as he stares at you intently as you head towards the rec center with Riley.

“So, what brings you back?” You let out a hollow chuckle as you look around the rec center watching people pile food onto paper plates.

“Honestly, Flynn I was gonna ask you the same thing.” You both smile sheepishly at each other, neither one of you wants to answer. You sip some lemonade his mom had made for the event. You scrunch your face, it's way too sour.

Riley leans in “I won't tell her if you don't like it.” He grabs the cup and quickly gulps it down.

“You didn't have to do that, I could've just poured it into one of the potted plants while nobody was looking.” You say giggling.

“I was really surprised to see you at church today, especially wearing that.” He points at your outfit eyebrows raised.

“Oh, this?” You sit up as straight as possible crossing your arms making yourself look as proper as possible. “Why Riley, don’t you know I am a woman of GOD now!” You try to keep a straight face as you look at him but he starts laughing and you can’t help but cut the Bev Keen act.

“Honestly, if I didn’t know you I would have thought so.” He says still chuckling slightly.

“Please don’t ever say that again.” You say breathlessly. You can’t help but feel close to him even if you haven’t seen him for so many years. For the past week, you’ve felt so disconnected from the others on the island, but Riley feels like someone who actually understands you. Someone who isn’t looking to change you.

“So, what made you come back? Seriously.” He asks now with inquisitive eyes.

You take a deep breath before answering.

“Well it wasn't my choice really, my dad actually passed away recently and..well Anne was the one who inherited the house. I guess she needed me here to help her fix some stuff and probably to keep her company.”

“I’m sorry, I. I can’t imagine.” You look past him not wanting to make eye contact knowing that it would only make your emotions bubble to the surface.

“It’s ok, really. We weren’t very close, but him and Anne...” you stop as you feel your throat becoming hot and the wetness pooling in your eyes.

“You don’t have to.” He says quietly. His eyes are understanding and sincere.

Giving him a light tap on the shoulder in gratitude you force a weak smile.

“I better go see how Anne is doing.” You pull yourself up from your seat quickly and wipe the stray tear running down your face as you search for a bathroom to fix your makeup.

“Out of order” the sign reads in awful handwriting,

“Fuck” you say aloud as you tilt your head back and turn around. There’s a back door to the outside right in front of you so you decide to go use the bathroom at the church since it’s only a few seconds away.

Pushing open the old arched door it squeaks loudly, almost shivering as you enter. It's so eerie and quiet when no one is here, less ceremonial now it just feels like a creepy old building. You stroll leisurely up the aisle while running your fingers along all of the pews as you pass them. The bathroom is tucked quietly behind the altar, there is only a thin wall that separates the rest of the church from the backroom. The room smells old and dingy, there are tall wooden cupboards along the walls with what you imagine hold different cloths and robes for the Priest. What could a little snooping hurt? You shut the wooden door behind you as you tiptoe deeper into the storage room, opening one of the cabinets you find some of Father Paul's chasubles, these look like the ones your old priests from the mainland would wear during Christmas or easter, much fancier than the normal Sunday ones. Another cabinet reveals extra chalices, some eucharist wafers in a big plastic tub, like something you could buy at a grocery store it even has a nutrition label on it. “Body of christ my ass.” You huff as you close the cabinet.

You pass by the long table with all the cups and dishes that the altar boys have to set up before mass, running your fingers along the golden rims of the glasses.

Wiping your smudged mascara off of your face with a soft handkerchief found in one of the cabinets you tidy yourself up and head back out looking less disheveled. You think of leaving the handkerchief there but end up just stuffing it into your pocket not wanting Paul to know you were in here by yourself.

“Hello?” A deep voice calls to you from outside the room. Freezing in place you contemplate hiding but realize how idiotic that is, its a church, not a bank, you didn't break in you’re allowed to be here.

“Hey, I'm sorry I didn't think anyone else was here I just needed to use the bathroom.” You call out to the voice as you walk out of the room.

“Oh, I didn't expect to see you here,” Paul emerges from the other side of the alter.

You scream inside. Why does this keep happening? You were just forgetting about him. “We are all welcome in God's house.” You say slyly.

“Yes, you are. Always welcome” he stands there in front of you, almost looking through you with those big brown eyes.

“Well, I um. I better get back to the rec center.” You nod and wave and start to leave when his voice echos halfway across the church

“May I ask, how you know Riley?”

You stop and cock your head to the side, what does it matter to him?

“We knew each other when we were kids, I spent summers here and we used to be..we are friends.”

Spinning around he's closed the gap between you both only a foot away from you now.

“He’s a good kid.” He sighs

“But I-I do worry.” He looks at you almost apologetically

“What?” You spit out, angry that he feels obligated to give you advice on friendship.

“Please, don't be upset, sit.’ At first, you just glare at him until he looks at you softer pleading to you.

“Please.”

He offers a pew as a seat and you scoot in unenthusiastically. Before entering after you he kneels and does the sign of the cross. He moves so gracefully, carefully, and slowly. You watch him closer, drinking up every bit of him. He almost disappears while he is in prayer, eyes closed, hungry for God's approval…He looks so fucking hot on his knees. You squeeze your legs together as you feel your stomach double over and feel your heartbeat under your skirt.

He sits down next to you, his knees are so close they almost touch the bare skin below your dress.

He thinks before speaking, trying to be careful about his words.

“You were raised in the church weren't you?” He asks staring at the crucifix on the wall

“Only for 18 years of my life, yep”

“When did your faith leave you?” He presses eyes still fixed ahead

“Well. I mean. It just never really felt right to me.” You watch him, his hands folded together, legs stretched apart his elbows resting on his thighs. He’s listening, absorbing your answers. He finally turns his head to you a few worried wrinkles show on his forehead. Eyes wide.

“I had a sister you know.” You look at him sadly. Had. You know that feeling of loss, it stings you to hear him say it.

“She was a few years older than me, we were raised catholic, a-as you can imagine.” He straightens his back.

“She died when I was young, she was sick a lot. I-I think after that I strayed from the church for a long time before coming back.”

You reach out a hand and wrap it around his clasped hands, you know his pain, can recognize the sadness in his voice.

He doesn't seem to mind as he continues “She was so young, so sweet. She could've done so many things. I thought if God loved me. If he really loved her, why would he do such an awful thing?” He pulls a hand away only to place it on top of yours now. “But after a while, that pain and that grief went away and I realized that maybe those things just…happen. That's just how life is. God doesn't want us to suffer, just like he didn't want Adam or Eve to suffer. God doesn't want us to grieve or feel pain. And I found that through him we can relinquish all of that, we can just give it up to him.” He closes his eyes and squeezes your hand tightly.

“And God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes, and there shall be no more death, neither sorrow nor crying” He smiles as he recites the scripture like he can feel God as he speaks the words.

“I want to do that for others. I want to show my people, my flock, that God can take their hurt and guilt and pain and turn it into something truly beautiful.”

Your eyes fill with tears not able to hold them back any longer. You feel defeated, you haven't been able to process everything since your father died and you feel it hit you like a ton of bricks. Raised in the church you know this is not real, his words are just words. You had tried time after time to speak to God but only felt an emptiness in return. You remember praying for your parents to get back together, or for them to love you like they did Anne. Nothing ever changed. But you wish more than anything that it was real and sitting here with him is the closest you've ever felt to God.

He reaches his arms around you pulling you in tightly as you let out your pain and letting you sob into his shoulder. The black material feels warm against your cheek. His body heat mingles with yours. His neck is so close to your lips you can smell him, and it's just like he did in your dream. The warm scent of incense mixed with a hint of aftershave is intoxicating. It’s almost too much. He shushes you as you weep and pets your hair chastely, trying to comfort you. You two sit like this for a while, probably longer than you should until you can regain composure and sit up wiping your face. You pull the handkerchief out of your pocket and pat your damp cheeks.

“I see you've taken a souvenir” he jokes and his hand finds a spot on your bare knee.

You push the cloth into his hand and shake your head “I'm sorry Father, here, I didn't mean to I just needed it earlier and didn't want- “

“Please, it's all right.” He smiles warmly as he presses it back into your hand, his hand still pressing against your leg.

“Father I-“ you try to speak but gasp for air a few times, like a child who just got done with a crying spell.

“I don’t know what to do.” You tilt your head down in embarrassment his thumb rubs your skin gently, it burns when as he touches you so sweetly.

“I'm so lost Father” you whisper.

His hands move up quickly, he presses his pointer finger beneath your chin lifting your face and eyes to meet his.

“If a man has a hundred sheep, and one of them has gone astray, does he not leave the ninety-nine to search of the one that went astray?” His other hand moves from his lap, gripping the spot between your neck and shoulder, he brushes your neck tenderly with his thumb. “And if he finds It he rejoices over it more than over the ninety-nine” he brings his hand up slowly to cradle your cheek. So tired and vulnerable in the moment you fall into his palm closing your eyes and letting the full weight of your head press against his hand. His warmth cushions your face your whole body feels enveloped in comfort. Your eyes open softly as you flutter your eyelashes. As you stare into him you can almost feel yourself whimper. He ducks his head down pressing his forehead into yours and breathes deeply, you can taste his warm smell, his breath slow and steady. You'd want nothing more than to completely collapse into him. His lips are only centimeters away. “My lost little lamb.” He whispers softly, so close you can all but taste his words as he speaks, they feel sticky and hot as they penetrate your mouth. This time you can audibly hear yourself let out a pathetic whine. You can feel your pulse in your head, but before you have a chance to pull him closer he releases your face, you want to grab at him, pull his face back to you, ask him to whisper scripture over and over into your ear. You want to fall at his feet and beg him to breathe love into you. Not God. Him. Your head now buzzing with confusion, your thighs aching as you press them together to hide your sin. You can feel the dampness in your panties rub against you only making you throb more. You look up to see that he is in prayer now, hands clasped pressing against his forehead as he kneels on the tuffet. You recognize his words, kneeling next to him brushing his arm with yours you raise your hands in prayer as well. “-holy Mary mother of God pray for us sinners now and at the hour of our death, Amen.” You recite it quietly with him a few times and finish with an Our Father. He smiles down on you as you finish, praising you with his eyes. “Give thanks to the Lord.” He stands up swiftly holding a hand out to help you up. You take it but let go quickly after you get to your feet. You two walk towards the door in silence his hands behind his back. You watch him closely trying to understand what it is he wants from you. Once you reach the wooden archway you feel compelled to speak “Why were you asking about Riley, father?” You ask softly. He stops and watches you, carefully searching your face. After a long pause, he speaks gently “Walk with the wise and become wise, for a companion of fools suffers harm.” he places a hand on your flushed cheek again. “Father, I don't understand.” You look at him with yearning eyes.

“Choose your friends wisely.” He says quickly. Almost stern as he pulls his hand back. You don't press him more, not understanding what he is trying to say. Or understand what has happened here at all. Riley is a good boy, a good man. You've heard your sister gossip about his past but don't see him doing something to hurt someone on purpose. You nod and walk back to the rec center with Father Paul quietly, not knowing what to say.

That night you end up walking the beach with Riley for hours, talking about life and what you both want out of it. He tells you he hopes to move far away, you hope for the same. You can’t help but wish Father Paul was walking with you instead.

#father paul x oc #father paul #father john pruitt #father paul hill #monsignor john pruitt #priest kink #ao3 #slow burn #strangers to lovers #fanfic #midnight mass

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