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bonezone44 · 9 months

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Muddy Waters, pt 4. (18+)

'Punching Bags'

Ezra x F!Reader x Joel Miller

Summary: A peek into your past and present with Ezra. A brief clash between you and Joel. Then, your best friend catches you with Joel.

Word Count: ~7,5k

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 (story masterlist) (my masterlist)

tags: NSFW 18+. Intuitive!Reader. Afab!Reader (she/they). Southern!Reader. Established Ezra x F!Reader. Polyam. No use of Y/N.

This Chapter: Pet names: baby, angel, darlin. Fighting/Fucking. Unprotected P-in-V. Ezra and his poor hygiene habits. Angst. Rage. Humor. Adult conversations.

Warnings: The first section of this chapter occurs in the past and contains consensual physical violence + sex, aka fighting/fucking, between the Reader and Ezra and the Reader and Ezra threaten each other’s lives (it’s understood between them that they don’t literally mean what they’re saying).

Author's Note: It's amazing how many different version of a chapter can exist before I end up with what I post. I hope this is the best version. I might have had too much caffeine today.

++++++++++++++++

“Just leave it!” he shouted at you from across the library with veins bulging from his neck. He splayed his fingers wide and threw his hands down. “We can’t take ‘em all!”

You traced the letters on the cover. 1,000 Facts About Space. Decorated with images of stars and planets and black holes. Your lips trembled and you fell to your knees.

Ezra groaned. “We don’t have time for this!”

“We were gonna go places.” Mars. The Asteroid Belt. Jupiter and beyond. To the very end of space and time. “We were gonna see… we were gonna see it all.” You swallowed thickly as your eyes filled with tears.

“Yeah, well." Ezra spun around with his arms swinging. "It’s no longer an option, now is it?” he spat.

“B-but we’re gonna lose all this–all this knowledge!” You held the book to your chest and clung to your lower lip with your teeth as you pouted. In any other lifetime, it would have been a silly little collection of trivia you flipped through on someone’s coffee table. But in that moment, it was your ancestors’--nay, your entire species’--lost destiny and tragically unfulfilled prophecy.

“I am well aware of what progress our society is losing,” he snarled with wide eyes. “And I am just as heartbroken as you are but–" he placed his palms together in prayer. "–we cannot allow ourselves to mourn eternally over it and we cannot allow ourselves to mourn right–now!” He stomped his foot twice. “We need to move with haste,” he hissed.

“Stop telling me what to do!” you shouted, regressing into your childhood self, desperate and selfish and kicking your feet. God, why couldn’t Ezra understand you? Why couldn’t he understand the pain you were experiencing? Where was his fucking compassion?!

“Baby, if you don’t put that book down right now…” With his chin high and serious, he raised one ominous finger in your direction. “I’ll say it.”

You whipped your head up and flared your nostrils. He wouldn’t dare.

“You think I’m joking, huh?” Something about your reaction made his eyes glow. He dropped his hand.

“Don’t,” you threatened–your lips curled thin.

“Drop the book and get up or I’ll say it.” Excitement bubbled in his cheeks. He was grinning.

You stayed on the floor, snarling at him. Fire began to burn in your fists and ripple throughout your chest. “Don’t you fuckin say it.” Fuck, you wished he would. You wished this motherfucker would say it just so you could feel something for once in your whole stupid life.

“I will.” His eyes were positively glittering—sparkling like the falling dust in the pale white light flooding in through the windows. “I will speak it loudly and I will speak it proudly.”

“Don’t you fuckin say it, Ezra!” Your breaths were heaving now, hot blood pumping through your arms and legs. You were a wild beast being toyed with and prodded and the thought of pouncing your torturer burned embers low in your belly. You squeezed your thighs together–squirming.

“Don’t tell me what to do!” He said with a sideways shake of his head. He started laughing. You could see the beast in him, too, the way his teeth shined like fangs ready to sink into your skin.

You two went back and forth, taunting and tugging on one another while your bodies stayed in place and built up fiery momentum.

It was Ezra who finally burst and snapped and he dug his teeth into the depths of your craw.

“I–" he started and your nostrils flared with hot air.

"--miss–"

Energy coiled in your toes

"--the fuckin INTERNET!” He shouted and stomped, all red in the face and neck.

You launched yourself up from the floor and ran straight for him, screaming with fury and heated spite. You lunged forward, wrapping your arms around his knees, and tackled him to the ground.

A loud pained groan was knocked from Ezra’s gut as he hit the floor. You scrambled up his body.

You hovered above him, fingers gripping his shirt tight. "I am so fuckin sick of hearing you talk!" You punched him in the chest with the sides of your fists before tumbling over sideways and slamming into the floor, shoulder first. You hastily shimmied out of one pant leg because one leg free was all you needed before clawing yourself back on top of him.

"Give it to me–give it to me–" he choked out through short breaths. His pants and underwear were pulled under his hips. His twisted amusement was gone–replaced with a deep, snarling hunger. "Make it hurt, baby–" Ezra spit on his hand and stroked his cock. "Come on–" He whined.

You slid your panties to the side, wasting no time to sink down on his length. The sharp, dry pain went unnoticed as rage flooded your vibrating veins. You scratched your nails along the back of his scalp and pulled his head down and away from you. Your other hand curled into his shirt again. You wanted to rip it off his body and shove it in his mouth while he whimpered–and you tried, honestly, but the fabric wouldn't tear.

Ezra dug his fingers into your waist. "Fuckin hurt me, baby!" He shouted and rolled his body, trying to get you to start moving. "Come on!"

You hunched over, meeting him nose-to-nose and screamed. "You wanna fuckin hurt?! I'll show you how to fuckin hurt!" You leaned upright. One hand squeezed his cheeks before the other swung back and punched him in the jaw–fist following all the way through.

Ezra whimpered and jerked his hips.

You saw blood in his teeth.

Fuck, it felt good. So good you almost came–it felt so good. The way your cunt clenched around him, sucking his cock deeper inside you. You bounced up and down, savoring the way his length stroked your inner walls. You reeled your arm back a second time and punched him again in the same spot to the right of his chin. This time, your fist hit the floor beneath him as well–sending a shooting pain from your knuckles up to your shoulder and right back down again.

Hoo! It hurt, but you shook it off–shook your hand around while bouncing up and down.

Ezra didn’t complain. In fact, he started fucking up into you, hips and bare ass using the hardwood floor as some kind of springboard. The rebound threw your body forward and you nearly toppled over him completely. But you were quick enough to steady yourself and met his strokes in a pounding, synchronous rhythm.

“I fuckin hate you!” you screamed in his face, sweat building on your brow. You punched him one more time for good measure, and the sting was so sharp–you felt pins and needles all through your hand. You clawed and tugged at his hair while hunting the billowing heat at your core. “I fuckin hate you, Ezra!” Fat tears filled your eyes and spilled down your cheeks. “I hope you fuckin die!”

“Nnng–I hate you, too, baby!” His eyes were glossy and wet and he was sweating from the exertion of his thrusts. "Fuck!" He whined and ached. "I fuckin hate you, too!" He croaked as he wept.

You wrapped your fingers in the hair on his crown. “If you fuckin come first, I’ll kill you mySELF!” Spit flew from your lips.

“Do it!” he yelled through gritted teeth, pain evident across his face. “Fuckin KILL ME ALREADY!” He shrieked. He was panting like a dog and crying like a baby.

“I’ll do it! I’ll fuckin KILL you, Ezra!” You were sobbing now–your abdomen spasming and twisting. You didn’t stop riding him, though. You were determined to get your orgasm–even if you felt yourself wavering. You shoved your dirty fingers in his mouth, down to your broken and bleeding knuckles, while your other hand braced yourself on the floor next to his head.

He tongued and choked on your fingers. He bit down hard and you loved it. Once you felt his hips slow–once his pace stuttered and grew weak–it set you off on your high. A creaking whimper escaped your throat. Your pussy clenched and contracted around him. A heady wave of blood pulsed through you, leaving you dizzy and disoriented. You collapsed into his body, limbs flopping around while Ezra chased his own end.

You weren’t sure if he came in you or on you or somewhere else in the room. You just remembered the whole world going dark and quiet as you floated serenely on some post-orgasmic ethereal cloud.

You were eternal.

Unlimited.

Until a waft of air over your bare ass sent goosebumps up your back and down your arms. You pried open your heavy eyelids with your cheek smushed against the floor. In front of you was a blur of book spines. A label on the shelf read ‘Local Authors.’ The title beneath:

'The Nature of Good and Evil' by Sylvia Browne.

—------

Ezra trekked ahead of you, smiling widely in the sun with a red wagon in tow. Its contents were covered in a black plastic tarp and wrapped up with cord. He craned his neck back and chuckled. “You clocked me pretty good, baby. It’s been–what?--over two weeks now? And I’m still feelin it.” He flexed his jaw. "Hoo!"

“Sorry,” you murmured, embarrassed. You fumbled behind him, dragging a wagon of your own. Your knuckles were still tender, too.

“There is no need to apologize for your actions.” He stopped and smiled. “I am proud of my woman.” He had been perky and grinning since you left the library behind. “I love it when you kick my ass.”

You rolled your eyes and laughed. You walked passed him, navigating carefully upward through the dry, grassy terrain. Your thighs and glutes trembled and ached. The soles of your feet burned. You couldn't feel your fingers hardly, but you didn't care. You didn’t wanna stop, yet, because you knew that stopping would make all the hurt settle in and throb through your body like rolling thunder–make your muscles spasm and twitch like flashes of angry lightning.

“Shouldn’t be much further now," you heard him call from behind you.

You laughed again and yelled over your shoulder. “You have been saying that for days.”

“Well, since every scale is relative, I am technically correct each time I say it.”

You shook your head and sighed.

You heard a hungry moan. "Baby, I am treasuring the sight of your ass from this lower perspective–"

"Stop it!" Embarrassment heated your face as you giggled and squirmed, trying to cover yourself with your free hand. "You pervert!"

He grunted. “You know me, angel–”

“HEY!" Shouted a deep and booming voice.

Your hand instinctively pulled the pistol from your hip and you let go of the wagon. Your heart drummed in your chest as you searched the horizon. Like some kind of optical illusion, as soon as you saw one person heading towards you on horseback, you saw two more in your peripheral.

“Drop ‘em down! NOW!” It was the same deep voice as before–coming from a man wearing a bright red bandana over his face and a black cowboy hat. He was aiming his rifle straight at you. “And step away from the wagons!”

You both complied, clearly outnumbered and outgunned, too.

“Are you bit?” he shouted.

You shook your head as you raised your hands in surrender.

“No, my good sir.” Ezra cheerily spoke for both of you. “We are clean as whistles, I assure you.” He cleared his throat. “We are merely passing through—”

“What’s in the wagons?” asked a woman’s voice. She was to your right, wearing a denim jacket–face wrapped in a yellow bandana, but nothing atop her head but tightly twisted long black locs.

“Nothing nefarious, I promise,” Ezra pressed his palms together. But he lifted them again when the woman raised her rifle. “We are delivering a collection of books–”

“Books?” The man in red sounded disgusted.

“Delivering to who?" Asked the woman. "There’s no one out here." She shook her head. “Certainly no one that ordered books.”

“Well, we uh–We–” Ezra looked to you, nudging for you to speak by widening his eyes.

You looked at the three riders surrounding you. Their clothes appeared clean and fitted. Although you could only see their eyes, they weren’t red and sunken. Their horses looked well-kept, too, brushed and attended to. You took your chance, praying to every single god you had ever heard of in your life that these were the right people and you were about to say the right words. “They left the light on for us,” you croaked out.

“...What?” said the man in red.

“They left the light on for us,” you repeated, though now that you were saying it out loud, you weren’t sure if it was correct. “They left the light on for-for-for me.”

“Th-that’s right!” chimed Ezra, still smiling with his hands up. “They left the light on for me.”

The three riders looked at each other. The woman in yellow trotted forward.

“Who told you to say that?” she asked.

The tension eased a little. Your heart rate slowed. “My friend, Tonya. W-we met her back in Kansas City.”

The woman hummed. “And where is Tonya now?”

“She stayed,” you said and took a tight breath through your nostrils. “She’s still in Missouri.”

She hummed again. “And she told you to bring us …books?”

“Tonya encouraged us to provide… tribute to the good people in the Jackson community,” said Ezra, bouncing on his toes. “My partner and I desire to join and participate in the development of this, uh… small town that Tonya has told us quiet, but evolutionary things about.”

The man in red scoffed. “So you brought books?”

“Yes. Books.” Ezra stood as proudly as he could with his hands still high in the air. “We carry with us some mechanical and medical textbooks and some children’s books for the little ones and-and-and we also have some literature, as well, from some of the greats–which–” He looked to you again. “--we know was a biased effort, of course, as is the nature of any opinion, b-b-but I believe we chose quite fairly across the board to-to-to express the diversity of our world’s uhh… our world’s—”.

“Capabilities,” you added.

“Capabilities! Yes! Our world’s capabilities and talent and knowledge.”

“We don’t do hand-outs, alright?” said the woman in yellow. “Everybody works.”

“Absolutely!” Ezra said. He looked over at you, flashing his eyebrows in a silent cheer before returning his attention to the riders. “I completely agree! One hundred percent!” He nodded in your direction. “M-my partner may need time to-to rest after this long, arduous journey, but I, personally, am fighting fit.”

The woman grunted and turned to the man in red. She spun her finger in the air. “Go get the dogs.”

Ezra smiled uncomfortably. “The-the what now?”

—-----

There were never enough hours in the day. You don’t know how Joel kept his whole house so neat and clean and still found time to go on patrol and build things around town and limewash new shutters and take care of Ellie. You and Ezra shared a small apartment above the Outfitters and it was always an overwhelming disaster.

You two had somehow collected so much in the brief time you had been in Jackson. And you had no idea what to do about all of it. Books and papers and trinkets and gifts and clothes–how the hell did you two own so many clothes?

And the shower was never clean enough and there was always dirt on the floors and the bed sheets–God! The bed sheets always smelled.

And Ezra never gave a shit.

Your eyes bore into him with fury as you stood watching him from the bedroom.

He was reclining on the couch wearing only blue boxer briefs and …a baseball cap, for some fuckin reason. He reached down to scratch his balls and then smelled his fingers after. A high pitched pained scream resounded in your head.

"Jesus Christ, Ezra," you groused and pointed at the floor. "Can't you put your clothes in the fuckin hamper?"

"Nope," he answered cheerily and flipped the page of his book. "I sure cannot."

The thing about Ezra’s cheeriness was that sometimes it was happy and perky and jovial.

And sometimes it was a big 'Fuck You.''

You stomped through the living room and picked up his laundry while grinding your teeth. "You come home and just fuckin… throw your clothes all over the place."

"I sure do." He grinned and continued to read.

Fire built in your chest. It didn't matter that you were just as messy. What mattered was that you were trying to do better–trying to be cleaner. And he refused to make a single effort.

"I'm sick of living in a fucking pig sty!" You screamed. You did not understand how to get through to him. No matter what avenue you took, he fought you at every turn, so you gave up and yelled at him all the time instead.

"It must suck to be you, then."

"Oh my god!" You shouted with your hands curled into tight fists. "You are a fuckin child!"

He turned to you with a proud smile, eyes disappearing behind his rounded cheeks, and released an utmost satiated hum.

You started panting in anger. You wanted to grab his book and rip it in half. Or set fire to each page one by one, laughing maniacally as he cried–the flames reflecting brightly in your wild eyes.

But… no. You didn't really want to do that because he loved his books. He loved reading. And you didn't really wanna hurt him.

That would break his heart.

And in turn, it would break yours, too.

…But you did kinda wanna strangle him right where he was, laying on the couch without a care in the world.

But.

Again.

You didn't really wanna strangle him.

Because even though you imagined doing all this damage to Ezra, it was a cartoon fantasy that played in your mind. Like Looney Tunes or Ren and Stimpy where the excessive violence never did any permanent damage but allowed the characters to get out all their frustrations.

This was usually where the hate-fucking came in.

But that was for ‘out there.’ Out in the rest of the world where safety and survival was a constant uncertainty. Where there was nowhere to go when you needed a break from one another and the persistent grinding friction between the two of you had to breach your surfaces somehow.

But now you’re ‘in here.’ In Jackson. In a community that allowed you to get the fuck away from him when necessary.

And–Praise be!–on this day, you knew the perfect place to go.

“I am getting the fuck out of this fuckin apartment!” you shouted into the air.

“Good for you, angel.” Ezra was so calm and encouraging. “I hope you have a wonderful day.”

The fact that he wouldn't fight you back just made you angrier. "Well I hope your day fuckin sucks!" You screamed and slammed the door behind you as you left.

You stomped down the stairs into the alleyway and stopped once you hit the bottom. Your head was already clearer outside of the confines of your shared living space. The cool fresh air cleansed the heat from your skin and a slow, deep breath brought you even further toward peace of mind.

It was inventory day at the General Store and you knew they needed extra hands.

It was the perfect distraction.

Counting items was easy and repetitive. And you would be under direct surveillance, by Derek of all people, so there would be no opportunity for your mind to wander and ail you. The man was impossible and it made you do better just to spite him.

Derek was one of the patrollers that first found you and Ezra. He was on the council, supervised the General Store, and ran the town meetings. And he loved Ezra.

His feelings toward you, though, were tepid at best.

You hoped Tracy would be there. She was Derek’s wife and probably your closest friend in all of Jackson. She was funny and bright and she loved her kids more than anything. She always wore a velvety soft brown cardigan and smelled like lemongrass. Her friendship made you feel all warm inside and damn, you needed a friend.

Unfortunately, as you approached the front door, you saw Derek through the window. And even more unfortunately, he saw you, too. Meaning there was no turning back. You took another deep breath and opened the door.

“Inventory day,” Derek groaned as you walked in.

“Oh, I know!” You smiled with your fingers tugging on the hem of your shirt. “I wanted to see if you needed an extra hand.”

“An extra hand?” He scoffed with his eyes all big. He crossed his arms over his stomach, one hand clinging to his clipboard. He glared with disdain. “We started over an hour ago. You can’t just show up whenever you feel like it.”

You crossed your arms right back. “I was just passin by–”

“Passing by?” He pointed his stupid little clipboard at you. “You live across the way.”

“Livin across the way doesn’t mean I can’t pass by.” You huffed. This wasn’t quite going how you had planned it would go. “Maybe–Maybe I could bring y'all lunch or something?” You suggested as you scratched your eyebrow. “So you don’t have to go to the hall for it?"

Derek scoffed even louder than before. “And make a big mess in the middle of the store? No.” He huffed back. “We got enough mess to deal with already.”

“Heeey!” You heard Tracy call out to you in song. She wore chunky heels that echoed with every step as she approached. “How are you?” she asked as she opened up her arms.

“I’m doin good, Tracy,” you grinned and glowed and hummed as you met her in a tight warm hug. You glared at Derek over her shoulder and he rolled his eyes. “i was just seein if y’all needed help, but–”

“Oh, great timing!” she said and squeezed your shoulder after pulling away. “Derek, let’s get her counting those pillows in the back.”

“No." He was all worked up, eyes bulging, offended by the suggestion. "I’m gonna have Kara take care of that when she’s done with the blankets.” He tossed his hand in the air. “We don’t need her. She’s just gonna count ‘em wrong anyway.”

You raised your finger to defend yourself. "I told you. Last time, I had a cold and I was on my cycle, okay?"

"Horseshit," he muttered under his breath.

“Derek, be nice,” Tracy hissed. “She is my friend and she is trying to help.”

“I don’t care if she’s trying to help.” He tossed his hand up again. “Let her go help someone else.” He stomped away, shaking his head.

Tracy rolled her eyes, tucking a brown curl behind her ears. “Sorry about that.” She huffed as she wrapped her cardigan around her front. “He is bein such an asshole today.” She mouthed the word 'asshole' so no one else would hear. "And I don't know why–" she hid her mouth behind the back of her hand. "--'cause he definitely got some last night."

You faked a laugh. Normally, her little asides would crack you up, but your mood was souring everything.

She shook her head and sighed. “Anyway, if he won't let you help out in here, there was a little accident that happened in the tool shed over night last night." Tracy interlaced her fingers together and pleaded with her eyes.

"Oh yeah?" You really didn't want to work by yourself, but there was no way out of it at this point.

"One of the shelves fell and we just haven't had a spare moment to go clean it all up." She smiled kindly and you forced a smile back. "Maybe you can go do that for us."

"I can do that! Don't you worry ‘bout a thing," you nodded, groaned internally, and walked back out the front door.

—--

The large barn door to the tool shed was wide open and you recognized an empty space on the back wall above the wood-top counter. Once you stepped past the work table in the center, you saw the edge of it--the 'accident' that Tracy referred to. To the left of the back counter was a tall pile of nails and bolts and screws and broken pieces of glass from the jars that had once sorted them all.

“The fuck,” you muttered.

The shelf itself was a long, thin, deep slab of wood, sitting on top of the back counter, dusty and stained. Its brackets were still secured to the wall, strangely enough.

You scoffed. The shelf had no holes in it. It was solid. 'What idiot puts up a shelf and doesn’t attach it to the fuckin brackets?' You huffed. 'How long has this been here like this?' You shook your head. 'A disaster waitin’ to happen and then–' you waved your palm out to the mess on the floor. '--it finally happens.'

You groaned. This looked like something Ezra would do. He was so lazy. He never finished anything but his books. That's all he ever wanted to do was read. Hardly ever spent any time with you.

Sure, there was that amazing sex you had the other morning, but besides that–hardly ever!

You groaned again. Not that you would want to spend time with his unwashed ass right now.

God, Ezra was the worst. There was something wrong with that man. What kind of person happily marinates in their own filth like that? Why couldn’t he shower every day like a normal person? Just because he had off the night before didn’t mean he should just soak in his own sweat and muck and – Ugghh!

And he never picked up after himself. Sometimes …maybe he would pick up a thing or two, but mostly never.

And then Derek, ugh! How the hell was Tracy married to him? He was so impossible to please. You wanted to help with inventory. You weren't there on time because you didn't know how you were gonna feel that morning and you didn't wanna commit to something if you were just gonna let them down again. And last time you had a cold and you were on your cycle and your brain couldn't hold the numbers in your head but that wasn't your fault! You did the best you could every single day of your life and sometimes your brain and body betrayed you and forced you to betray others but it wasn't intentional! You weren't trying to be an unreliable piece of shit! You were trying to do better every fuckin day for yourself and for Jackson and for Ezra’s disgusting ass! You didn't mean to be a big fuckin failure who had no skills and devolved into a panicked puddle of blood, sweat, and tears by the tiniest inkling of responsibility now that you were inside the safety of Jackson’s walls! It wasn't your fault that you were never gonna be enough! It wasn't your fault that–

Someone cleared their throat and it grated against your skin.

You looked up from the pile of sharp glass and metals.

Great.

Now Joel was here.

He was the last person you wanted to see while you were busy being animus and self-loathing. And he was smiling at you like life was all fun and happy or something when it wasn’t!

God, it felt so fuckin stupid to be alive.

"Mornin, darlin," he grinned and shuffled towards you.

His sexy, smoky voice was so stupid and annoying.

"Mornin," you rolled your eyes as you sorted out nails and tossed them into one of the few surviving jars.

He stopped. Tilted his head. Had the nerve to breathe in your general direction. "So…" he pointed with his chin. "What happened here?"

You raised your head slowly with a condescending glare. “The shelf fell down." You raised your palm toward the empty spot on the wall like you were Vanna White. ‘Is this beautiful idiot incapable of observing his own surroundings? Is he too busy being attractive and handsome to use basic deduction skills?’

He raised his eyebrows and put his hands on his hips. "Did… did you do it?" He asked.

And now he was accusing you of being the idiot that didn't properly install a simple fucking shelf?!

"No, I didn't do it, you fuckin asshole," you groused and tossed more nails into the jar.

"Hey."

You felt him more than you heard him–a tense shockwave rippling through you like an earthquake, shoving you to teeter on the edge of a crevice. You whipped your head up. Your gut trembled. Your whole world became uncertain and unbalanced.

Joel towered above you from where you sat, shrinking into the floor. He scowled with his arms crossed. "What is this? What are you doin?” He shrugged his broad shoulders and shook his head. “Don't talk to me like that."

His disappointment sent your heart over the edge into free-fall. Shame crawled across your skin and all the heat and turmoil in your head suddenly vanished, leaving behind nothing but a cold, empty wind. You covered your eyes with your hand and sucked air into your lungs. "I'm sorry," you creaked out, frowning. You had seen Joel standing there, but you hadn't felt him yet. Too busy in your own storm to see anyone but yourself. Your heart shrank further. "Sorry." Tension stung the muscles in the center of your chest and snaked its way up your throat. "I-I-I get like this …sometimes." The water that had once been boiling inside of you had cooled and started pouring out your eyes.

"Well, don't… get like it… with me," he said, sounding on the edge of timid.

"Okay. Okay." You nodded and recycled another breath. And even though you still felt the burn of shame on your skin, the pressure on your chest was relieved. "I'm sorry." You sniffed and spoke to the floor.

You wiped enough of your tears away to see Joel eyeing you with his brows pulled tight, chewing on his lip. It surprised you that he didn't push back or start yelling. It surprised you that he stayed instead of throwing his hands up and stomping off or, at the very least, saying something polite before leaving you be to wallow in your own shame.

"Are you alright? What's goin on?" He asked.

You opened your mouth to speak, thinking the words would come to you, but they didn't. You sighed, half-smiling. "I'm sorry, Joel. It's nothin." You waved him away. "You've got work you're trying to do–"

"Can't be nothin if it's got you actin like that. I–" he sighed. "C'mon." He offered you his hand.

You obliged, reaching out and allowing him to pull you up. You wiped the dirt from your knees and shit, they felt stiff and bruised. You didn't realize you had been kneeling for so long.

He carefully took your hand in his own again. It felt good and warm and safe. "So what's wrong? I-I gotta be honest" He huffed and smiled. "I didn't know… someone as happy as you could get like that."

If he hadn't been holding your hand, you would have ran away–you were so embarrassed. You closed your eyes. Your breaths grew shallow.

"It's–It's–I just–" The right words still weren't there.

"Look at me," he said.

You complied.

"I wouldn't be askin if I didn't wanna know." His eyes were big and tender. The lines around them and in his forehead echoed his sincerity like ripples in water.

You closed your eyes, nodding.

And his thumb was rubbing along the center of your palm and he was waiting–so patiently.

You opened your eyes and his expression was unchanged. "I have these moods…" the words finally tumbled out of you. "...where I get lost in my own head and wanna hurt everyone and everything. But I don't really wanna hurt anyone.” You sighed. “But then I go lashin out at everybody, anyway."

A soft smile bloomed on his face. “Yeah,” he said and glanced into the alleyway. “I know what that’s like.”

Relief washed over you, removing all your remaining apprehension. You had been so scared and yet… he impressed you again.

“I don’t wanna be your punchin bag, though,” he said earnestly.

You didn’t know a statement like that could feel so good–warming up your chest and clearing out your mind. “I don’t want you to be my punchin bag, either,” you said, echoing his sincerity. “It won’t happen again, Joel.” You were confident of that. “I’m sorry it happened in the first place.”

“‘S alright.” He blinked and looked down to where you had been sitting on the floor. “That was… easy compared to most of the fights I have.” Amusement rounded his cheeks, his dimple burrowing deep. He leaned his hip into the back counter, resting his elbow atop it. He was still playing with your hand, interlacing your fingers through it.

You giggled through your closed-lip smile.

He spoke to the floor between your bodies. “I … fight myself more than anybody.”

Your smile turned sympathetic.

“You could say I’m my own punchin bag,” he said in a forced joke with a forced smile.

“Yeah,” you nodded, staring at him with open tenderness. “I know what that’s like.” Your hand found his waist, fingers on the smooth leather of his belt and the rough fabric of his jeans. You rubbed your thumb up and down the soft, cotton fabric of his shirt. You wanted to wrap your arms around him and hold him close, but you weren't sure how he would respond. You didn't move. Didn't say anything. Didn't want to risk him closing back up.

His eyes–you could lose yourself in them forever. Especially with how adoringly he looked at you. You wondered if he was delusional or something to be so quickly enamored with you.

Shit, though. Maybe you were delusional, too, because he was constantly making you melt and you didn't even know him. Not really. Not like you knew Ezra.

Was this okay? Was this alright to feel about someone when you didn't yet know all their quirks and viewpoints and world opinions? You knew Ezra for years before you crossed that boundary. And that was living every single day in his presence. You and Joel had spent very little time together, but god, you felt yourself pulled to him by some electromagnetic current.

But you were a lot older and wiser than when you first met Ezra. Your instincts were stronger and clearer. And your life wasn't at risk if things went south between you–there were no cordyceps or raiders or slavers to find you if he wasn't at your side with a gun in his hand.

You could trust this–whatever it was–happening between you. You could trust yourself to figure it out, too. Maybe Ezra was right. Not everything could fit into a pretty little box for you to label and package all nice and neat. Maybe it was alright to be messy.

So when Joel stepped closer, bringing your bodies flush, you felt warm and easy. And when he leaned forward to kiss you, you felt no doubt in your body when you leaned in to kiss him right back.

The distinctive sound of metal clocking against itself and wood sliding against wood startled both of you. You both whipped your heads around to see Tracy, slamming the door behind her and scuttling towards you from the back of the General Store.

Time slowed down right in front of your eyes, moving like molasses down a shallow incline. You felt your heart pounding in your ears. You hadn’t prepared for this. You hadn’t prepared to tell anyone. Til you knew what the hell you were doing.

But… of all the people to catch you in the act, at least it was Tracy. She knew you better than anyone else in town.

"Hello. Hi." She waved her hand–a broad, panicked smile on her face.

“Shit,” Joel muttered under his breath.

She stepped inside the shed with her hands clasped together. “What’s going on? What are you doing?” She asked. Her voice teetered between casual and accusative.

“‘S none of your business.” Joel’s voice teetered on threatening.

“Um, actually it is my business–” She held her finger up and snaked her head around. “--when my best friend is about to throw her perfect relationship down the toilet.”

Joel scoffed and rolled his eyes.

Your heart jumped. ‘Best friend?’ You hadn’t had a best friend since high school. And you and her had had a falling out, which was why you went to college alone in the first place. You needed this. You needed to save this. You held your palms up, attempting to calm her. “Look, Tracy. I know it looks bad, but–”

Her arms were crossed and angry. “After all Ezra does for you and for this town and–what? You’re just gonna leave him for-for this?” With a disgusted look, she tossed her finger in Joel’s direction before tucking it back beneath her arm.

Joel placed his palms on the work table, leaning his weight into them. He looked ready to pounce.

You stayed even and gentle. “I am not leaving Ezra.”

You felt Joel’s eyes on you.

“Oh, okay. Of course.” She shrugged. “You’re just gonna fuck someone else behind his back. My bad.”

“It’s not like that,” you said evenly.

“Ezra knows.” Joel added.

“No. Uh-uh.” Tracy shook her head. “There is not a man alive that would let their wife run around and make a fool out of them.”

Your palms were still high, still trying to ease back her cloud of upset. “No one is bein made a fool of, Tracy. Ezra knows.”

She scoffed. “This is a joke, right? This is a fucking joke?” Her head was still shaking. Tears rimmed her eyes as she dropped her arms. "Is Ezra not enough for you?" She pressed her fist into her chest. "After all he's done to support you and he's not enough?"

You struggle to find the words, every thought in your head is blurry.

She laughs, wiping pained tears from her reddening eyes. "Ezra is such an incredible, perfect, handsome man and you–"

"Ezra is not some golden child.” Joel spat.

"What?" You turned to look at him. His face was red and he was snarling.

"Ooooh!" Tracy looked sickeningly excited and started waving her finger around. "You got a lotta nerve to say anything, Joel." She spat his name out like an insult. "I have heard plenty of stories about what you did before Jackson."

He raised his jaw, his body gone stiff. His chest heaved hot breaths through his nostrils.

"All the killing and smuggling." She huffed. "The only reason they even let you in was because of your brother."

You scoffed. "Tracy, stop it." Your calm was disappearing.

"You don't know, do you?" Her eyes were now trained on you. "You don't know how many people he's killed?"

"Tracy," you warned. “I am not going there. There is not a single person in this town–”

“Innocent people.” She said your name to you as if to emphasize her point. She leaned forward, pointing at Joel as if her finger was gonna help you understand everything she was telling you. “He killed innocent people.”

“I killed innocent people, too.” You threw your hands up–stiff, exasperated. You spoke through gritted teeth and trembling lips. “And people tell me stories all the time about murderin and torturin and-and-and the sick, painful shit they did to get by.” You pointed a shaky finger downward. “People here. In Jackson.” You stared at Tracy's pained face, wet cheeks. "But we are not who we were when we were survivin'."

“Fine. Fine!” Tracy spat, wiping the tears from her eyes. "Fine!" Her head was shaking. Her body was trembling. “B-B-But you can’t do this.” Now her finger was pointing at you. “You can’t just go around… fuckin whoever you want.”

Your eyes grew wide and your jaw went slack.

“It is none of your business,” Joel snarled again.

“There are families here. And there are children.”

“What?” What the hell did that have to do with anything?

“And how am I supposed to explain to my kids that you’re out there sluttin’ it up like nothing means anything?”

“What?” You wanted to laugh. "That–that doesn't even make sense! What are you talking about?" ‘Like nothing means anything?’ What the hell did that mean?

“You get one, okay?” She started stepping back, out of the tool shed and into the alley. “You get one and that’s all you get. That's how it works. That's how it's always worked.” She nodded, satisfied. “Okay? So pick.” She clapped her hands together. “And you know how I feel about this one.” She nodded toward Joel and turned around.

You stomped around the work table. “I don’t have to pick shit!” She was almost to the door. “I can do whatever the hell I want!”

She threw her hands up, shaking her head, and went inside.

Your whole body was jittery. Your breaths were short. There were people, you noticed, on the edge of your vision. Other people in the alley. But you didn’t count them and you didn’t look to see if they were looking at you. You placed your hand on your chest, attempting to calm your nerves.

Joel stood in the tool shed, watching you and working his jaw. He looked down and crossed his arms.

“I … I don’t know what the hell just happened,” you said as you leaned against the doorway. You were exhausted suddenly–every ounce of life having been sucked from your veins and mind and bones.

Joel didn’t say anything. Just wiped his face and adjusted his belt.

“Everything is happenin so fast. It’s too fast.” Your eyes welled with tears. You didn’t know you had any left in there. “I don’t understand it. I don’t understand what is goin on.”

Joel slowly stepped to you, boots scraping against the dusty floors. He placed his hand on your shoulder and opened his mouth to speak. But he closed it just as quickly.

You sighed and wiped your tears. You wrapped your palm around his warm hand and it felt so good to touch his skin. You didn’t need or want him to say anything at all. It was enough to be in his presence. You took a deep breath and looked at him with a small smile on your lips.

“I need to go tell Ezra what happened so he’s not blind-sided by it later ‘cause I know she’s gonna tell somebody and they’re gonna tell somebody else and I’m pretty sure–” you sighed. “I’m pretty sure some other people just heard us arguin out there.”

“A-alright,” he said–his hand staying on your shoulder.

God, being with Joel felt so good and so right and so… correct. Like this was what you were supposed to be doing. Like this was what your whole life had been building toward and you were exactly where you needed to be.

“I wanna see you again. Soon."

Joel's eyebrows shot up, his lips upturned on the edges. “Really? E-Even after all that?”

“I'm not changing myself to make her feel better.” You spoke with confidence. You shrugged. “This is who I am.” You gasped and stepped back, putting out your arm to make space between the two of you. “I mean, if you need to take a break or wanna stop or if it's too much and you wanna think about it–"

“No no no no.” Joel smirked. "I'm good."

You couldn't believe it. "...Really?"

He scowled. "I don't give a shit about these people." He pulled you back in by your waist, adoring you with a smile. "I can do whatever the hell I want."

You laughed, shaking your head. His tender eyes had you hooked again and you reached up to hold his face in both of your hands. The kiss you shared was just as tender, lips locking with only a tease of your tongues.

You were determined to make this work.

You were also determined to not lose Tracy as your friend.

You knew it wouldn't be easy, but it would definitely be worth it.

+++++++

A/N: I feel like it's important to say that Joel 'Bottles-Up-His-Emotions' Miller will not stay cool, calm, and collected forever. The next chapter will include a lot of processing.

tag list: @toxicanonymity @jksprincess10 @shotgun-shelby @walkintotheriveranddisappear @for-a-longlongtime @rubyfruitjungle

+++++++

(story masterlist)

(my masterlist)

#my writing #ezra x reader x joel miller #ezra x reader #joel miller x reader #muddy waters series

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nightgoodomens · 2 months

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Asks under the cut (p3)

I feel like Michael has been showing how done with it he is since he started making a point to look as miserable as possible with her and to make it more blatant, how glowing he looked with DT instead. I also feel like that photoshoot was meant to be the beginning of finding her a career so they can end her bearding one. So she has some career so she isn’t dependant on him anymore. But that didn’t work out so she started clinging to him again. It’s a sad situation for everyone. I’d never want to have anyone this dependent on me so I can’t get rid of them, and I’d never want to be a woman this dependant on a man.

That thread is disgusting. Not only half of them have zero idea wtf they’re talking about, like usual on Twitter, but the absolute disgust leaking from it is pure homophobia. The same people feel like they can squeak over everything the ladies do, and can ask about those relationships, but anything about the men deserves disgust and how embarrassing it is. It’s fucked up. I am against asking questions like this but it wasn’t THAT bad, and I hardly blame the person who asked considering they asked AL who will respond with crap like “oh my loud parrot was a preparation for dating MS” yeah you know what, ask her whatever you want. She’s embarrassing. Besides 1. She didn’t need to answer. 2. That wasn’t a back off face, they’re just projecting their feelings yet again. It was a confused/thinking about it and then “hm” as she looked away. Like her reaction was actually quite funny because it looked like a “oh fuck he does” realisation. No need to project all feelings of hatred on it.

They literally told everyone they’re one big family and DT and MS are partners/boyfriends/husbands - if people think it’s disgusting then that’s something they have to deal with. I don’t think any of these people have the mental capacity to consider poly or anything but most typical relationships out there. Which is so ironic because this is supposed to be super open minded fandom… yet they freak the second someone says so I think two men might love each other. Please.

I always felt a little “huh” about that moment because of how serious he is during that. Not the usual joke way you would expect but a borderline statement. There’s so many moments during those years where you expect them to take the piss out of each other but they’re really serious about what they say.

I think it’s kind of looking up to her because GT does it at least a little better than her. GT does a lot of questionable things to me but majority of people just see the perfect image she created on the surface. She worked very hard for people to forget how fucked up the beginnings of this relationship were and now feels confident enough to call her kids drunk accidents and get away with it. But that is the fandom’s fault who sucks up everything she says and won’t dare to criticise. And she knows that. Well until she finally touched a subject that struck the nerve but while some chased her off, others were screaming queen you can do no wrong - see this is why they think they can do bare minimum and people will suck it up anyway.

But you’re right, generally her arrangement with DT works better (mostly, because she posted a video where he was complaining too, or pics where he’s done with everything, or her weird selfies where she looks into camera and he’s suppose to be cuddling to her which always gives me the cringe, or the “mine” even though the night was about him) and she’s better at support when she feels like it hence probably why people have more warmth for her. Majority of people just want DT content and they don’t care how or what it is.

But generally people who see through bullshit point out both GTs and ALs missteps. And MS and DT when they do some dumb shit. It’s the best fans who won’t dare to criticise anything.

To me it looks like MS is harder work because he’s done with shit so he won’t be pulling cute selfies etc to help the bullshit. But DT is easier to make feel guilty (omg I want to be my wife for a day to see how she deals with me… bruh you ok?) so he will do a stupid Morrisons video, take selfies and cling to her like he’s less than her on HIS big days. And constantly work his ass off to finally have her accomplish something instead of finally giving up. It’s weird and sad to me. And explains why he shines so much with MS who actually lets him be who he is and compliments him and loves him openly instead of trying to make him feel less.

Oh yeah season three will be a nepo show, big time!

#NightGoodOmens talks PR #NightGoodOmens talks Michael and David

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tater-tot-jr · 3 months

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I think I should put in my two cents considering the Hazbin hotel leaked Angel Dust clip. I’ll say that this post should be one absolutely massive trigger warning. If you’re sensitive please don’t read this, I’m pretty blunt. Also I’m only talking about a small leak but SPOILERS!!!

So before I make any points I’ll start by saying that I’m not an inherent fan of vivziepop, this isn’t meat riding, it’s a genuine attempt at open conversation and discussion. I’ll also say I’m a survivor myself and while I don’t claim to speak for anyone else I have some ground to stand on here. I completely understand that people can be triggered by this type of imagery and will at least skip this particular scene or episode, I promise I’m not talking about you guys.

You wanna know who I am talking about though? The weird ass moral police I’ve been watching mobilize. It’s crazy how people are making a big deal out of this. I’ve seen three arguments and all of them are terrible in themselves and being used to justify terrible behavior.

I’ve only seen people claim three major things, this is a bad depiction of a s/a survivor and situation, this is something that’s too graphic and immoral to put in a TV show, the fact that the singing and dancing lightens the tone in a way people find distasteful. I’m going to be trying to prove why I find these arguments mostly ridiculous and unfounded.

As for argument one, s/a survivors come in all shapes and sizes and hyper sexuality happens to be an incredibly common reaction to sexual trauma. I haven’t watched episode one and two but even if I had I’d still have too small of a sample size to determine the entire tone of an incredibly messed up complex dynamic between too incredibly interesting and layered characters. It’s ridiculous to have so many assumptions and expectations of an *11 second leaked clip.*

Secondly. Creative freedom is possible the most important thing in art. If we didn’t have the freedom to put what we wanted on paper or on screen then we wouldn’t have had so much societal change recently. Just because you might find something distasteful and immoral doesn’t mean it absolutely has to be hated on and removed. It’s okay to not like things because you find them gross, it’s okay to not enjoy graphic depictions of serious subjects, it’s not okay to start internet wars over moral bullshit. It’s okay to be mad in silence sometimes, guys.

Thirdly. I kinda get this one, I don’t agree with it but I do understand the point. The idea you don’t want a serious subject framed with a sexy pop song is not inherently bad, it’s just something that makes me think you wouldn’t have liked Hazbin Hotel anyway. I actually appreciate the fact they are using the creative medium to make bold and shocking decisions but I get some people are sensitive to new things, that’s fine. Where this argument gets ridiculous is when people act like this is very out of line for a show like this. This isn’t a Saturday morning kids cartoon it’s and adult animated show about people in hell. It’s highly likely that this won’t be the worst thing we see, you either need to heed the trigger warnings at the beginning of each episode or get over it.

You’ll notice that I didn’t bring up anything about the merchandise pins or the storyboard artist, I did this because they aren’t arguments but barely related attempts at character assassinations. When you spend five minutes thinking about them critically you come to realize that there is nothing substantial to those arguments.

I’d like to finish up talking about how I think this scene is doing more good than harm. It’s important to make people uncomfortable when you’re talking about things so horrible like s/a and rape. It shouldn’t be meek and palatable for a general audience, it should upset you. I remember hearing something in a video game once that stuck with me. There was a character who said that when you’re sick you need strong medicine and that the strongest medication is very bitter.

I think episode four will be some very bitter medicine.

#hazbin hotel #angel dust #feel free to leave a comment if you disagree #it’s important to engage in discussions and I’d love to hear some other perspectives #if you leave a comment with arguments against any points I made I’ll do my best to respond to you with a potential counter argument #and it should go without saying that if I watch the episode and realize I’m completely wrong I’ll post a public apology

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whiterosebrian · 2 months

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Confession on Israel-Palestine

Ladies and gentlemen and nonbinary folks, if you want to know how my current break from social media has been going, I’m afraid that I can’t say much. I don’t feel like I’ve made much progress in self-rehabilitation. It doesn’t help that I haven’t been able to meet with the clinical social worker for counseling often enough due to delays in the first two meetings. It doesn’t help that the warehouse job still wears me out terribly. It doesn’t help that the weather here in Indiana hasn’t been quite right yet for outdoor meditation.

I’ve pondered when I might resume making and posting original work to my social media pages. I haven’t decided yet. That choice may depend on what the next month or so are like for me.

The main reason why I wrote this journal entry is to make a confession. Several factors led me to go off on my current hiatus from social media, which I intend to discuss in depth at a later day. However, what especially provoked me to quit posting and declare my absence was the latest flare-up in violence in Israel-Palestine and the back-and-forth polemics on social media. I felt unable to meaningfully address it.

I acknowledge the ethno-nationalist administrations in Israel that have grown more radically right-wing over the years. I cannot dismiss the reports of long-standing human rights abuses in Israel. I cannot dismiss the suffering and death involved in the establishment of the modern state of Israel. I dare not dismiss Palestinians who suffer and die whenever the violence flares up in that little strip of land! I further acknowledge that most people who join demonstrations against Israel have only the best of intentions.

Why haven’t I spoken out more often on Palestine, though? There are still too many cases where condemnation of Israel is a thin veil for condemnation of the Jewish people as a whole. Is Judaism not an ancient ethno-religion that has long-standing ties to Eres Yisra’el, the Land of Israel, however widely dispersed it may have been? As a white European living on Turtle Island, am I not much, much more of an alien than a Jewish person living near Jerusalem? Even considering ethnocentrism within the Zionist movement, is that still not a serious response to the long, tragic history of marginalization, persecution, expulsion, and eventual genocide? Doesn’t anti-Jewish hatred persist today? Doesn’t anti-Jewish propaganda come in the form of dog-whistles? Speaking as an ex-Catholic, I’ve seen Catholic fundamentalists claim to reject “racial antisemitism”—in a conveniently narrow sense—while espousing their usual anti-Jewish narratives.

Those sorts of dog-whistles have made me wary of much (not all, but much) of the rhetoric that I’ve seen. I don’t want to shut down or belittle Jewish people who express pain and fear. I do acknowledge the increasingly sharp divides—especially generational divides—within the Jewish community over Israel. I was also surprised to read about the historical real-world alternatives to political Zionism, most notably the Bundist movement, whose main principle was about establishing Jewish cultural enclaves throughout the Diaspora while agitating for socialist justice.

What of the Jewish people who still express fear of antisemitism and still express attachment to the land of Israel? I’m not supposed to dismiss their voices and stories as settler-colonial propaganda that needs to be censored, am I? I’m not supposed to regard them all as hyper-privileged, lying, greedy, bloodthirsty, all-controlling aliens, am I? I’m not supposed to ridicule them as passive-aggressive crybaby Nazis worthy only of isolation, am I? I’m not supposed to declare them all guilty of genocide and needing to be punished accordingly for the rest of their lives, am I? I’m not supposed to judge them all as Bad Jews and leave only a tiny remnant of Good Jews, am I?

Over the course of the reactions, rants, and reflections that I’ve written into my private spiral-bound journal, I noted a fixation on Jewish safety and Jewish freedom. Why? Euro-American guilt? Ex-Catholic guilt? Have Israel-supporting organization exaggerated the prevalence of anti-Jewish hatred? I’ve read of dissension within such organizations as the Anti-Defamation League and J Street. Surely, though, claiming that the entire world celebrates and pampers the Jewish people would be completely ridiculous.

You might recall the incidents of anti-Jewish intimidation and violence that sometimes appear in news outlets. Aren’t there people with big voices like Nick Fuentes who would gladly do gods-know-what to the Jewish people if they somehow took power? Hasn’t anti-Jewish propaganda spread beyond Europe as well? Aren’t there Islamic fundamentalists who call for the destruction of Jewish people, branding them as conspiring overlords or as apes and pigs? I hear about Jews and Muslims living in harmony in the Middle East in the olden days, but that narrative does strike me as sounding too good to be true—haven’t Jews faced discrimination and violence there too? I’m willing to be educated on the nuances within said narrative.

I trust that you understand that I reject the notion of collectively punishing Muslims, Arabs, or Palestinians. I wish for no group of people to be collectively punished, especially a group that has notoriously suffered domination and alienation and worse over centuries. Has something gone wrong my desire to stand with Jewish people? Is that why I’ve neglected to publicly speak for Palestinians? Once again, I dare not deny that Palestinians face suffering and death under the watch of a powerful Israeli state backed by other powerful states.

I’ve gotten the sense that I’m being pressured to choose which people to support—but I would be very happy to be proven wrong. I am not yet totally confident that the free-free-Palestine movement lacks undercurrents of demonizing and punishing Jewish people—but, again, I would be very happy to be proven wrong. The point that I’ve been gesturing towards this whole time is this: I believe in harmonious and joyous co-existence of various peoples and cultures on lands that they work together on healing and enriching. I’ll grant that phrases like “it’s complicated” can be cop-outs, but they can surely also be expressions of uncertainty over how to best resolve serious problems.

I ask you to write to and call your local elected leaders and put pressure on them to not only demand a ceasefire but also demand full civil and human rights for Palestinians. Surely that is something that we can do. I even wrote and mailed letters to Jewish organizations such as the ones mentioned previously, asking them to hold Israel’s leaders and elites accountable, stand up more forcefully for Palestinians, and seriously engage with Jewish anti-Zionists—not to lecture them as some sort of superior Aryan, but to encourage dialog as a fellow civil-rights activist. Did that in itself risk “mansplaining” antisemitism? I trust that I had good intentions. I wish for peace and freedom for all, and I wish to understand more fully how that can become a reality.

#palestine #israel #israel palestine #palestinians #jewish people #antisemitism #history #social justice #ceasefire #human rights #middle east #arabs

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missmaywemeetagain · 1 year

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Broken Glass Chapter 2 (Elvis/Austin!Elvis x OC Reader)

Character/Fandom: Elvis Presley - Elvis (2022)

Read More Here - Broken Glass Masterlist! 💔🥂❤️‍🩹

Prompt: You are Dolores Cannava, a young Italian-American nurse desperate to make her own way in the world and break free of her dysfunctional mafia-connected family and traumatic past. Elvis Presley is just returning home from his two-year stint in the Army, looking more handsome than ever, but feeling the pressure to successfully find his way back to the stratospheric career he was forced to leave behind. In a twisted turn of fate, Elvis finds himself in the hospital where your paths cross. Forced to harbor his potentially career-ending secret and needing to escape a terrifying future in New York, you are pulled into his unusual world and must endure a begrudging fake relationship with Elvis in order to protect his reputation (and his life).

TW: Hospitals, illness, cussing. The Colonel. Some historical inaccuracies.

Tags: Fake relationship. Slow burn. Angst. (Sort of) enemies to lovers. Hurt/Comfort.

Rating: PG (ish?) (but this story will eventually be Mature/NSFW, 18+, so minors Do NOT Interact) || Word Count: 4.4k

A/N: Happy Broken Glass Wednesday, y'all! I'm going to try to put out a chapter a week on Wednesdays (we shall see if I can keep up lol). Thank you for your lovely responses to Chapter 1 and for giving this little fic a chance. ❤️

This chapter dives into some heavy stuff in that I've sped up the timeline and brought some of the serious health issues that Elvis experienced more prominently later in his life to the forefront in 1960. I've always wondered what might have happened if they had recognized his many complex conditions for what they were early in his life. Truth be told, I am endlessly fascinated by the medical conundrum that was Elvis and that he lived most of his life with some pretty severe shit that at the time no one understood or had names for. Of course, I simplify the shit out of it here and try to put them in laymen's terms. I've taken some major artistic liberties with history in that there is likely no way in 1960 they would have be able to diagnose, especially so quickly, his complex conditions. Also, I am not a medical professional, so I've done my best to describe things whist moving the plot along. I HIGHLY recommend reading Sally Hoedel's book Elvis: Destined to Die Young if you are interested in the specifics regarding E's health journey and how he ended up where he did in terms of that. It's a superbly researched and somewhat heartbreaking book that I think every Elvis fan should read. It certainly inspired part of this story.

As always, I love and live for your reactions, comments, asks, and reblogs, so thank you in advance for both reading and giving another one of my stories a chance!

I imagined it with Elvis in mind, but Austin!Elvis works here, too, whatever floats your boat.

Apologies in advance if there are any grammatical errors or TW that I didn't catch.

I’ve used the tag list from Pink Scarf, and added those who requested it, so please let me know if you’d like to be added or removed!

Story is cross-posted to my Wattpad and AO3, if you prefer those reading experiences!

Shit.

Elvis winces as he cracks open his eyes just enough to see the sun blazing in on him. The infernal light pierces straight into his head, worsening the headache that already throbs against the inside of his skull. He quickly shuts his eyes again, cursing whoever thought it was a good idea to keep the curtains open on a sunny late winter’s day.

Gotta have Lamar cover those damn windows with something more than those flimsy-ass cutains, he thinks, already pissed off.

It takes him a moment to register where he is and why he’s there. That, in fact, the sun’s rays are rather weak and dim, making him wonder just what time it is. Holding the bridge of his nose against the pain in his head, he manages to squint his eyes open to find himself in a rather small hospital room.

Bits and pieces start to come back to him, though the days and nights run together into one big jumble. How he’d finally escaped the confines of his service in Germany, so damn excited to be coming home that he hadn’t properly slept in days. He’d just kept popping those great little pills he’d obtained from a more than generous pharmacist in Bad Nauheim and, fueled by those and pure restlessness to get back to the states, he’d managed to easily keep the smile on his face for the cameras in Germany and the UK.

But the flight over the Atlantic had him chewing his nails to the quick, his legs going a mile a minute. He feared flying ever since the emergency landing that he, Scotty, and Bill had to make in that small, dinky little plane back in the old days, when things had just started to kick up for them in the business. It was made worse by his mama being convinced that he was gonna die in a horrible, fiery crash, so he’d taken to trains and boats and cars as his main forms of transport. The U.S. Army wanted to get him home sooner rather than later, however, and if there was one thing he’d learned in the last two years, it’s that you don’t try to fight Uncle Sam.

Whether it was the flight or the pills or the lack of rest, he’d started to get queasy and dizzy on that pass over the ocean. Then, the scratchiness of his throat, the burn of his forehead, and the chilled sweat that began to stain his perfectly pressed and tailored uniform were the telltale signs of a bout of tonsilitis striking him at precisely the wrong time.

That’s where things get a little fuzzy. Between the pain behind his eyes and at the base of his skull and the heavy fatigue consuming him, it’s not coming to him as quickly as he’d like. His eyes begin to adjust to the sunlight, and he puts together enough to know whatever happened between that flight and landing in New York was enough to land him flat on his ass in the hospital.

New York. That explains all the racket, he thinks as the sounds below on the streets echo off the buildings, creating a cacophony unique to the big city.

The door to the little room swings open then, making him jump out of his skin. It’s as though his state of consciousness was magically communicated to the staff because in walks an older gentleman in a long, white coat, along with his daddy and the Colonel. Their faces are all different degrees of solemn, which sets a churning dread down into the pit of his stomach.

“Glad to see you’re awake, Mr. Presley. You’ve been asleep quite a while,” the doctor says, the man’s education only belying a hint of a New York accent. “You’ve had us a bit worried.”

“Mister Presley is my father, Doctor. Please call me Elvis,” he manages to croak out. The fire in his throat flames from the use, causing him to cough and sputter. There’s an uncomfortable heaviness in his chest that tightens with each breath, and that knot in his stomach coils ever tighter.

“Take it easy, son,” his daddy says softly, pouring a glass of water from the table against the wall and handing it to him. The action triggers a memory: a pretty, little dark-haired nurse all in white doing the same in the middle of the night.

Elvis is pulled from the memory as the doctor begins speaking in a serious tone: “Elvis, I’m Dr. Paulson. You had quite the fall in the airplane yesterday morning and hit your head. Do you remember?”

“No, sir.”

“Hmm, that isn’t unusual with a head injury of this type. You might find that your memory has some gaps, bit that is to be expected and will likely resolve with time. But your injury is not what has me concerned, young man, it’s the cause of your unconsciousness that is the real culprit, I’m afraid.”

“What do y’mean, sir? Just feels like a flare of the ol’ tonsils to me.” As soon as it’s out of his mouth, Elvis knows it’s not the whole truth. He’s never felt quite this terrible in his life, with the way he’s struggling for breath and his body aches from head to toe.

“Elvis, along with your fall, you also went into respiratory distress last night.” Suddenly, Elvis remembers the laughing fit, how he couldn’t catch his breath, how the air just couldn’t seem to fill his lungs as that pretty nurse held his hand. But he thinks maybe it happened before that, too, him gasping for breath as the roar of airplane engines rang in his ears. Icy fear runs down his spine at the remembrance of not being able to draw breath. His attention snaps back to the doctor as he continues.

“We’ve run some tests, and that, coupled with your family history…” the austere man hesitates, “Well, I’m afraid it’s not good news.”

The Colonel glances away and out the window at that, his mouth set in a frown Elvis has never seen before, but it’s the look of sadness on his daddy’s face that finally sets a wave of panic rolling through him.

“Lay it on me, Dr. Paulson,” Elvis says, steeling himself.

“You seem to have a condition that is affecting your lungs, heart, and liver, all of which are vital to our survival. Looking at your mother’s medical records, we think she may have been afflicted with the same condition, and possibly more family members on her side. In fact, it’s likely what caused her early demise,” Dr. Paulson explains.

At the mention of his mama, Elvis’ heart constricts, his barely buried grief stinging his eyes. He blinks away the tears as fast as he can, trying to follow what the doctor is saying.

“Along with that, your immune system also appears compromised, which would explain your frequent and severe bouts of fever and tonsilitis. Altogether, it’s a perfect storm that is likely to only get worse with time. Of course, medical science is improving every day, and there may be better treatments down the road…” Dr. Paulson trails off.

Dread falls over him like a heavy blanket. “What’re ya sayin’, sir?” Elvis asks quietly but is afraid to hear the answer he thinks he’s gonna get.

Dr. Paulson takes a deep breath. “Well, I’m sorry to say, but it’s likely these conditions are going to shorten your lifespan considerably.”

The words hang in the air like a suffocating dark cloud. His daddy’s face crumples and he turns away, while the Colonel winces—actually winces—at the words.

“So, y-y-you’re saying this gonna k-k-kill me? That I-I-I’m gonna die?” His vocal incredulousness covers how the sheer panic overcoming him sets his heart galloping. “I’m only 25, Doc…y-y-you gotta be w-wrong ‘bout this. I just spent two damn years in the Army, and they sure as hell didn’t say nothin’ about no ‘condition’!”

“This condition is very rare, Elvis, and we are learning more about it every day. I’m not saying it’ll be today, but considering the episode you’ve just had, this disease will factor critically into your overall health and survival going forward. It has already started a cascade of chronic health issues of varying severity that will worsen as you age, and in the end, this combination of factors will almost certainly be the thing that kills you.”

Hearing those words out of the doctor’s mouth sets him numb with disbelief. This can’t be fucking happening. Not when everything is gettin’ set to be back on track. Not when I got so much left to do.

“No disrespect, Doctor, but I-I-I don’t accept that. I w-want a second opinion,” Elvis shakes his head, the words popping out of his stubborn mouth before he has much chance to think on them, to actually consider the possible truth of them.

But a deep part of him knows.

He knows his mama died too young and that her illness didn’t make sense. He knows he’s got family who died before their time. But most of all, he knows how he feels, and something ain’t right.

“Colonel Parker and your father have said as much, so I will contact some specialists to meet you in Memphis upon your return. But in some ways, young man, this is a good thing,” Dr. Paulson intones softly.

“Now, how the hell d’ya figure that?!” Elvis rasps out, nearly belligerent. He’s not one to be disrespectful, usually, especially to a man of such education, but he feels like shit and the blazing red heat of his temper pushes in before he can stop it.

Dr. Paulson blinks at him with his brows raised, and Elvis feels a wave of shame crash over his already rolling fear and anger. His mama didn’t raise him to talk to people that way. He takes a breath.

“I-I-I’m sorry, sir,” Elvis apologizes deferentially. “I-I’m just h-havin’ a hard time with what y-you’re saying, is all.”

“That’s understandable. What I meant by it being a ‘good thing’ is that now we know what we are dealing with and can set you up with lifestyle changes that could both improve your quality of life and perhaps extend it. We can set you up with constant care in order to avoid…things taking a downturn.”

Elvis’ head is spinning, pounding, making him feel wildly out of control. “Lifestyle changes? Constant care? I ain’t no invalid, Dr. Paulson, I’ll tell you for sure.” He nearly growls the promise as he swings his legs over the side of the bed, meaning to walk the hell out of here and show this doctor just how wrong he is.

In the back of his mind, he realizes instantly how stupid it sounds, considering that the moment he stands, his entire body betrays him and sends him careening to the floor, if not for the doctor and his daddy grabbing him under each arm and hauling his ass back into the bed. There, he is faced with the terrible reality that he’s sicker than a dog with the world spinning out from under him in more ways than one.

“None of us want this to be true, son, but maybe you should listen to the doctor,” his father says quietly in his ear, putting a hand on his shoulder.

This is the last thing Elvis wants to do. He wants to kick and scream and rally himself well. I can prove them all wrong, he thinks, if only he could stop the world from spinning and his breath from wheezing and his body from aching.

Fuck.

Elvis can’t bear to look at anyone, choosing to stare up at the high, vaulted ceiling, blinking away the blast of dark spots in his eyes as he tries to catch his damn breath.

“What’s next?” he finally wheezes out, counting the dots on the ceiling tiles to keep him from floating away.

“Well, first we need to keep you in the hospital as long as it takes to get you stabilized before you can go home to Memphis.”

“Absolutely not!” the Colonel exclaims from near the window. “We’ve already kept the press at bay long enough with talks of flight delays and other nonsense. We can’t hold them back much longer. You listen here, that boy needs to make appearances, and he needs to look the picture of health doing so, or he’s not going to have a career to go back to!”

The doctor scoffs. “Mr. Parker, look at him—Elvis’ career is the least of his worries.”

“It’s Colonel Parker, Mr. Paulson,” he hisses, “and his career is most certainly your concern. You have your expertise, and I have mine, and I’m telling you right now, I didn’t spend two years keeping him in the public eye despite his service to have you flush it down the toilet. I’m sure you don’t want to be the doctor that doomed Elvis Presley. The one who ripped him away from his legions of loyal fans.” The threat is crystal clear, and by the resulting silence, the doctor seems somewhat shaken.

“Sir, there will be no career if the young man is dead.” The doctor’s words hang heavy, and Elvis closes his eyes, willing himself to be anywhere but here. But there is no escaping this. No amount of money, talent, or fame is gonna get him out of this one.

Finally, he brings himself to speak, “I ain’t givin’ up my career, Dr. Paulson. But I also feel like something the cat dragged in last night and can’t get outta this damned bed. So, we’re gonna need to figure out a compromise.”

Dr. Paulson stares at Elvis and the Colonel like they’ve lost their minds. Vernon stays characteristically silent.

“Anything short of you staying here until you at least recover from this episode will be against my medical advice. You are in too fragile a state to consider anything else,” Dr. Paulson says, almost pleadingly. “And with this condition, if you try to jump back into the breakneck lifestyle of a superstar, your life will be short indeed.”

Elvis sets his jaw. “Sir, no offense, but you don’t know me very well. I can do just about anythin’ I set my mind to. We’ve all worked very hard to get me where I am, and I ain’t ready to give that up just yet. I got too much to do. Now tell me, what do I gotta do to get you to let me outta this hospital?”

The doctor looks at him and shakes his head, silent. Finally, he relents. “First off, you have to be able to get out of bed and stand on your own two feet without collapsing.”

“Fine. I can do it.” Even the Colonel looks at him with a tinge of disbelief on that one. “Maybe not this instant, but I’ll do it.”

“Secondly, if you are able to do that and still choose to leave against advice, I recommend having a doctor with you at all times, someone who can monitor your vitals and give you care when you take a turn for the worse,” the doctor concedes, “which you most certainly will.”

“Done,” Elvis agrees quickly. Anything that will get him out of here and back home to his life.

“Now, listen here, my boy, there is no reasonable way to spin a doctor following you everywhere without the press having a field day. You could lose everything the minute the public knows you’re…sick,” the Colonel points at him, faltering on that last word.

He means ‘dying’ not ‘sick,’ an unwelcome voice in the back of his head adds. But Elvis understands the Colonel’s point. Even as private as he is, it’ll be difficult to go to a movie set or recording studio with a stuffy doctor in tow and not have anyone find out. Shit.

Dr. Paulson looks exasperated and crosses his arms. Colonel just glares. But it’s his daddy that finally pops up in the uncomfortable silence.

“What…what about a nurse? Elvis always has girls hanging around him…” Vernon trails off.

Silence fills the air. Elvis blinks slowly and can see the wheels turning in Colonel’s head, the way they do when he’s about ready to come up with the perfect plan, the perfect snow job.

“It…could work, if we get one young and pretty enough. Don’t love it because I wanted to keep Elvis publicly available in the eyes of his fans—no attachments—but looks like we may not have a choice. Better you taken than single and…” The Colonel chooses not to finish that sentence, but they all know the ending he’s avoiding, what he’s choosing not to say.

He races to continue, “But you’ve got to keep up appearances in public, my boy, since she’ll have to be a steady fixture in your life. No more frolicking around with every pretty thing with legs. No more girlfriends in every county, state, and country from here to Timbuktu. No one, girlfriends included, can know what we’re up to or all could be lost. Even your wild friends are going to have to believe this is real for it to work.”

Elvis’ heart begins to race with the thought of being so thoroughly confined to a relationship, especially with some random woman who he might not even be attracted to, physically or otherwise, even if it is just for show. He’s always hated the Colonel being in his private romantic business, knowing that the man has managed to somehow get rid of more than a few of his steadies with some unknown manipulations to keep him “unattached.” So, for Colonel to agree to this plan, Elvis realizes just how dire the situation is.

And God knows, he already has more girlfriends than he can handle as it is. He has yet to be reunited with Anita, pines for Priscilla from afar, and dragged Elisabeth from Germany and sent her ahead to Graceland, not to mention the multitude of other flings he indulges in. But he loves women, to a fault, and he doesn’t want to be tied down to just one (no matter how he tells his girls otherwise). Worrying his lower lip in his teeth, he realizes he doesn’t have much of a choice. He’ll have to find a way to make it work.

The Colonel must sense this from him. “Oh, come on now, my boy, we all know your talent for juggling women is near as good as your talent for performing. Think of it as a challenge to hone your acting craft. There are worse things than being made to spend time with a pretty girl,” Colonel drawls, daring to wink at him.

Elvis feels sick to his stomach with the dishonesty of it and with the oppressive feeling that his life is no longer his own. To be fair, he’d been feeling like the walls were closing in, pressing him into submission, since the moment he received his draft notice, but this...this is different. The hell of this knowledge strokes awake a deep, dark sliver of him that has always believed his time here is destined to be limited, that no one should achieve his level of fame and success without paying a terrible price. But the worst is the horrible thought that perhaps it should’ve been him who was supposed to die in the womb and not Jesse, and that all this had been a mistake from the start. Some sort of cosmic joke.

No, God wouldn’t do that. God has a plan. He has to, he thinks, banishing the shameful thought back into the dark recesses of him mind from whence it came. A lump forms in his parched throat and he gulps, trying to get it down, trying to chase away the demons that threaten at the edges of his vision. Please God, please, he prays, though he’s not entirely sure what for. Perhaps the prayer begs to know that this is all one of his damn night terrors, or maybe it’s to chase away the horrors inside his mind that seek to consume him whole.

A small part of him is tempted to throw in the towel and to just fade into obscurity. Lord knows he’s already achieved more of his fair share of fame and fortune, more than most achieve in a lifetime. Maybe he should just live out the rest of his now-shortened life in peace and quiet. Start a family with one of his girls like his mama so desperately wanted. He realizes this is what she feared all along—like she’d had some sort of maternal premonition that he had been living on borrowed time from the start.

But that feels like a prison of another sort. No, he loves music too damn much, the way it tingles in his soul, clicking into place like the pieces of a complex puzzle that only he has the ability to complete, and the performing electrifies him in such an addictive and indescribable way that he can’t fathom trying to give it up. And beyond all that, he knows he’s got it in him to be a great actor if given the chance.

Quittin’ isn’t an option, he thinks, even if it kills me. Better to burn bright doin’ what I love rather than have nothin’ to live for.

Blood pounds at the inside of his skull like a ticking clock, his mind spinning with the fear and rage of it all. He is in no space to make these decisions, he realizes, but because so many want him to keep going, to keep working, to keep living, he knows what he’s gotta do.

Elvis finally nods his agreement, adding pointedly, “As long as I get a say in who she is. There’s gotta be chemistry for this to work.”

Dr. Paulson shakes his head and throws his hands in disbelief at this insane plan. “I think the most important thing is that she is competent, not her looks or ‘chemistry.’ Not to mention, she’ll have to be single and willing to give up her entire life to not only care for you 24/7 but to also pretend to be your girlfriend. I hope you have plenty of money to throw at this problem, Elvis.”

The Colonel grins wickedly. “I think you underestimate the power Elvis has over young ladies, Doctor. I have no doubt you’ll help us find someone suitable.”

“In the next few days? You must be joking,” Dr. Paulson huffs.

The stabbing pain behind Elvis’ eyes gets worse with these considerations brought to light. Yes, he does well with women, but the reality of any girl in her right mind agreeing to such conditions feels slim.

It feels serendipitous, then, that it happens to be this exact moment when you walk through the door.

“L-L-Little bird,” Elvis says, his nickname for you somehow, by the grace of God, popping into his muddled brain the instant he sees you. The name stutters from his lips almost in awe.

God has a plan.

The rest of the men turn in unison to stare at you. Elvis watches as you stop short, your intelligent sky-blue eyes going wide with surprise, annoyance, and apprehension at the intimidating scene before you.

Your mouth opens with a retort, then closes quickly at the strange silence that follows. The men take you in, from head to toe, as you stand frozen in the doorway like a deer in headlights.

After a moment, you seem to remember why you came in the first place, shaking off the uncomfortable gazes of the men and finally clear your throat to speak. “Excuse me, I didn’t realize…I-I’m sorry to interrupt, but Nurse Hunt sent me to find you, Dr. Paulson. She said it was urgent.”

Dr. Paulson, Vernon, and Colonel one by one turn their heads to look at Elvis. Colonel’s wicked little smile turns the corners of his mouth when he sees the way Elvis’ eyes take you in, a little bit of life returning to his pale cheeks.

Of course, Elvis liked you from the moment he’d laid eyes on you yesterday. With your deep brunette hair and stunningly big, bright blue eyes, you instantly piqued his interest, as you fit his usual type well. Your olive skin and striking features are different though, and remind him a bit of a young Sophia Loren, the beautiful Italian actress who he’d met on the movie studio lot a few years back.

In the looks department, you’d fit the role quite well.

The only problem he can see is that you’d made your distain for him quite clear last night.

“I’ll be right there, Nurse,” Dr. Paulson finally says, realizing you were waiting for any sort of response beyond staring. Relieved, you scurry away as quickly as you’d arrived.

“What do we know about Nurse—” Colonel starts the moment you leave.

“Cannava,” Elvis and Dr. Paulson say in tandem. Elvis is surprised your name falls off his tongue so easily, especially with how clouded his memory is.

“She’s the youngest to ever graduate our program here at Bellevue, and for that itself she is a standout. But being so young, she is still relatively inexperienced despite her excellent training,” the doctor warns, and seeing the look on the Colonel’s face wanting more, he continues, “Beyond that, I’d have to ask around.”

“She’ll never do it,” Elvis interjects with disappointment. “She doesn’t like me much.”

“Nonsense, my boy, I’ve never seen you anything but persistent in your need and ability to win a woman over,” Colonel says encouragingly, patting Elvis’ hand. “And perhaps it will work in our favor in her ability to remain…professional around you. Use that winning charm of yours to win her over. That and a healthy sum she can’t refuse.”

Elvis doesn’t even know your first name, but he can’t help the fact that he’s been drawn to you since the moment you met. The little flutter of his heart, the revealing sign of his already budding infatuation, loves the idea of you being his.

But she won’t be mine, not really, he reminds himself.

Either way, it’s a challenge he’s not quite sure he’s up for in his weakened state, but time is running short, and he doesn’t have much of a choice. He’s going to have to figure out a way to convince you this is a good idea.

“Find out everything you can,” Colonel orders the doctor, “and then bring her to me.”

What the Colonel wants, the Colonel gets.

And Elvis has the distinct feeling he’s already in over his head and is taking you with him, willing or not.

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starry-blue-echoes · 1 year

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I know you need help with Star Swap designs, for Jotaro and Josuke’s designs, i suggest they keep the other’s outfits except for Jotaro having Josuke’s hair down and Josuke not wearing Jotaro’s hat, maybe Josuke with his hair down might slightly resemble young Joseph a bit (i don’t know which idea you like more but this is a small headcanon in my mind), Jonathan and Joseph’s designs look good, as for Giorno and Jolyne, i say they wear Jonathan and Joseph’s outfits but Giorno has Joseph’s hair in a small braid in the back keeping the spiky hairs on the top, Jolyne doesn’t change much but the hair is slightly messier.

I saw the post of Jotaro waking up as Josuke, it was so funny. Here are my ideas of the others:

Josuke: wakes up in Jotaro’s house, notices his bulkier, heavier and bigger body, he freaks out when he feels his hair shorter than usual, he sees Jotaro in the mirror and he doesn’t know who Jotaro is, but is more confused when he sees his star birthmark, Holly is confused why “Jotaro” is acting different but can’t quite put a finger on it. Josuke is relieved he still has Crazy Diamond when he summons him.

Joseph: like you said, when he wakes up, he notices he is in a foreign room, as well as his hair being longer and blonde, he is shocked to see his body being smaller and skinnier, cue the “Oh My God!” once he sees himself in the mirror, he doesn’t know this kid and finds out he has the same star birthmark for some reason.

Giorno: he is confused to find himself in a room not his own, he finds his body heavier and is shocked to see muscular arms instead of his own, he sees that he is much taller and is left stunned to see a brown haired stranger staring back at him in the mirror, he sees that he has the same birthmark on the back of his neck. He can still feel Gold Experience with him.

Jonathan: he wakes up after a day of training but learns something is really wrong, he notices he is in a bed definitely not his own, he is confused to find his body smaller and oddly wrong in so many ways. He notices his hair is too long and it was green and black instead of his usual blue, he is shocked to see a strange girl on the mirror, he notices she has a star birthmark like him, he is confused and the body he is in feels too weird and wrong.

Jolyne: she finds herself in a strange room, she notices her whole body feels heavier and much bigger, she notices her hair is shorter and her arms are bulkier, she pretty much freaks out to find a stranger in the mirror, she sees the birthmark on her neck, she is initially unaware she is in the body of her great great grandfather, she summons Stone Free’s string to make sure she at least kept her Stand.

.........so for the descriptions, Anon did you somehow manage to find my experiment sketches??? Because I am completely serious when I say that is word for fucking word what I drew. Admittedly the main issue I've been having is making the designs look. Not Shitty because for some reason they do, but I will admit it's kinda affirming to hear someone else had almost the exact same ideas, that makes them feel like they were actually good sejvnhdfbchd

but also YESSSSSSSSSS WITH THE REACTIONS

Josuke is. So Freaking Confused as to what the hell is going on. At this point Josuke's never been involved in ANYTHING magic except for Crazy D, so he's essentially going in 100% blind. Honestly, his Stand is really the only thing that's managing to keep him calm, this small promise he's not completely alone in wherever he is

The star definitely gets his attention though. His mother had always told him his birthmark came from his dad, so this leads to him starting to piece some things together about this maybe being a Family Thing. Maybe for a pinch of silliness he wonders if for a moment the body he's in could be his dad's, but ends up brushing it off because Nah This Body Is Way Too Young

Joseph reacts similarly to Josuke, but as you mentioned he's much more vocal about it. It does help that he's functionally alone in the dorms, but being suddenly in this strange place that's Italy But Not Quite....... yeah he's definitely on edge. He does a lot of poking around and feeling out who this "Giorno" kid is (at least according to the student ID he found), mostly with gauging the kid's classmates reactions to him and adjusting his behaviour accordingly

Mentally, he sort of equates the "mask" of acting like Giorno to the stuffy parties he'd attend with his uncle and granny. Fit the role these people want and tell them what they expect to hear, and nobody looks twice. It it made easier how Giorno..... didn't really have many friends, which just incentivises Joseph to dig deeper

Giorno is much quieter about his panic. Gold helps, but the unfamiliarity of everything...... yeah he's not a fan. He unfortunately doesn't have much time to poke around because Erina arrives pretty quickly wondering why "Joseph" was still in bed and she immediately clocks his behaviour as off. He's too quiet, too stone faced, too..... stiff. Joseph's always been polite with her yes, but he was still familiar

Giorno, who feels much more intimidated by this woman than he thinks he should be, ends up playing it off as a nightmare and while Erina is skeptical, she's also a grandmother at heart and immediately offers him hot chocolate. Giorno, who has only felt affection from One(1) adult in his entire life, is very confused but finds himself agreeing (you know, writing this out I'm really tempted to have Erina figure things out. Maybe it's a mix of her own intuition and Giorno being a traumatised 15 year old who feels honestly awful about tricking this woman because she's just so genuinely kind and the imposter syndrome is hitting him like a bus)

Jonathan is ofc s u f f e r i n g. Home boy has no clue what the hell is going on or why he's in a jail cell of all things. For the most part he's kinda stuck just...... Going With It and doing what people ask of him because he's honestly so lost and doesn't want to risk making things even worse. Getting pricked by a weird pointy meal thing apparently given to him by his (her???) father and suddenly having weird vines that nobody else can see really doesn't help. And...... honestly, the lawyer rigging the trial is going to hurt way more because to Jonathan, the man had been a lifeline of sorts. The man said he'd handle everything and that things would be fine, and Jonathan more or less had to trust him here

(also........ as sort of slight crack, later down the line Hermes joking with Jonathan about how she thought the prison was going to eat him alive because of how seemingly soft he was, and him just saying "oh this isn't too bad. I'm used to people insulting and trying to take advantage of me. At least now I'm able defend myself and they aren't all organised under one person trying to ruin my life :D" and Hermes just. Stares for a moment because Jojo Wait A Fucking Moment What Does That Mean-)

Jolyne's reaction is a bit of a mix of Josuke and Joseph's. Very vocal freaking out mixed with General Confusion because she is very inexperienced in Magic Bullshit and she's been in prison for a grand total of Three(3) days and really is so lost on why the hell she's in a victorian looking house. Who knows, maybe Jolyne starts wondering if maybe she died and became one of those I Got Reincarnated As {Blank} stories and is very exhausted because She Didn't Sign Up For This

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sunnyrealist · 6 months

Text

Chapter 8 of The Sun, the Moon, and All Our Stars is available! 🌶️

Summary and Details...

Chapter Background and Summary: Sebastian and Kate met on the night of her birthday in May 1899. They spent the entire night walking around Hogsmeade, getting to know each other through playful Truth or Dare questions. As daylight grows, Kate invites Sebastian back to her cottage with zero mystery about what will happen there. They passionately get to know each other's bodies, and Sebastian tasted Kate, making sure she is completely ready for him and already satisfied. In this chapter, they now proceed to do the deed. 👀 Sebastian begins to worry about how he is going to tell Kate about his past and what her reaction will be. Aged-up, post-Azkaban Sebastian Sallow x female OC (Kate Mayflower)

Chapter features vaginal sex (girl on top and missionary)

Minors, do not interact! 🌶️

The full chapter is available below the cut, along with the AO3 link. Feedback would be greatly appreciated, as I am new to writing smut. This is my first ever sex scene! A comment, like, or Kudos would make my day.

Credit for the art goes to the wonderful @giselsann-opencommissions!

“Sebastian, are you real?” Kate asks with a giggle. It’s a ridiculous question. “This feels far too good to be true. It’s… just a dream, right? All of this?” She places her hand softly on his cheek, caressing his face, which is quite stubbly now.

They lay on the bed, facing each other. Kate is still naked, leaning on her elbow. Sebastian is still wearing his very tented shorts, looking at her dreamily.

He puts his hand on her hip, chuckling. “I am real. You can… you can touch me as much as you want. You can have all of me if you want.” His eyes twinkle as he pulls Kate close to him. “This is all real, and it will be this good every single time,” he whispers into her ear with a smirk.

Every single time… it implies more. More meetings, more dates, more sex. Kate’s eyes go wide. He is interested in this long-term. Kate leans in and kisses him with desire, moving as close as she can to him, pressing her body against his.

Sebastian is surprised by her sudden, passionate approach. He deepens the kiss. “I’m serious. I’m not going to let this go. I want it to last longer,” he explains. Then, he whispers in her ear: “Maybe even forever .” He kisses her lips softly and gently, his eyes closed. He smiles.

Kate runs her hands along his shoulders, both her hands and her tongue growing more bold. She moans as his tongue enters her mouth. Kate’s hands travel down his sides, then pulls him on top of her. He hovers for a moment, then lays his body down, his arousal pressing right against her center. She cries out, the friction almost too much for her to bear. Her fingers move over his covered arse, then begin to explore his back.

It doesn’t last long, though. Kate’s eyes fly open in confusion and alarm as her fingertips graze his back, not expecting what she had felt. Something isn’t right. Something is terribly wrong with his skin. Scars?

“Sebastian,” Kate finally musters. “What… what am I feeling here?”

He pulls back to look at her. His smile fades when he realizes how worried she is. He doesn’t know what to say. He couldn’t tell her too much now. It would ruin everything.

“Kate…” he began quietly. “...You can feel scars, can’t you?”

There is a pause.

“Yes. There are so many,” she whispers, concerned. “Why are there so many?”

Another pause.

Sebastian places his finger on her lips, shaking his head softly. “Kate, we can talk about that later. For now, I just want to focus on you and me. Is that okay?” His tone is calm and collected but guarded . He slowly pulls his finger away from her lips and replaces them with his own. He pulls Kate closer to him and puts his hands under the back of her neck, soothingly massaging her. He is trying his best to take Kate’s mind off of the scars on his back and shoulder. It… it isn’t the time. And even when it is the time, it might destroy this one rare opportunity to find real love and acceptance. He couldn’t bear the thought. He had to stay quiet and hope for the best.

Kate accepts his answer without a word, much to his delight. She hungrily meets his lips again and again, letting her hands wander freely once more. They come to the small of his back, then dip under the waistband of his shorts to grasp his arse as she grinds against him, moaning. More scars here… she notes.

Softly sighing, Sebastian moved his hips against hers. He slips his fingers through Kate’s hair, kissing her deeply. His hand moves from her neck to her waist and then her arse. He is trying to be as gentle as possible, but it is so difficult to restrain himself. He wants to claim her so badly. He wants to make love to her over and over again - to fill her completely with his seed - to ruin her until she begs and wails. He wants Kate’s delicate fingers, her kiss-swollen lips, her impossibly tight cunt on his cock. He needs her to realize how mad she is driving him.

“Kate…” he practically begged, desperate with desire. “ Please… Do you want me like I want you?”

“Oh, Sebastian, yes,” she moans. “Take off your shorts. Please…”

He lets out a groan, nodding his head slowly. “If that’s what you wish, my love,” he whispers seductively, kissing her lips once more. He then stands up, momentarily getting off the bed. He removes his socks, and then his hands slowly lower his underpants. His huge cock springs out as his shorts fall to the floor. Sebastian’s eyes are glued to Kate’s face, wanting to see her reaction. He knows he has something special for her. He knows that he is much bigger than most men.

Kate gasps, her eyes bulging as they follow the trail of coarse brown hair leading from his belly button to his manhood. She had never seen such an erection. Sebastian is enormous - much bigger than anyone Kate has been with. He’s not just long but thick . The head of his penis is weeping and completely swollen, a dark pink.

“Sebastian… you’re… you’re… I…” she doesn’t finish her thought, completely frazzled, almost panicked.

Sebastian smugly chuckles at her reaction, then smirks and lays down on top of her again. He began to kiss her neck slowly, his hands exploring beneath her back.

“I know, my love. It’s quite a lot, isn’t it?” He punctuates his arrogant words with a kiss to a sensitive spot between her neck and shoulder. “You’ll get used to it soon, Kate.”

Get used to it soon? Merlin, how could anyone get used to that?

“I don’t know if it’s going to fit, Sebastian,” Kate replies nervously. “It’s… yes, it’s a lot.”

“It will fit perfectly - I am sure of it. You and I… we’re meant to fit together. Just trust me,” he whispers into her ear, then kisses and softly bites her earlobe. He looks Kate directly in the eyes. “We can take it slow. I just need you to relax, my love.” Then, an idea strikes him. “Why don’t you get on top? You can go at your own pace, then.”

Sebastian rolls over excitedly, laying flat on his back with his dick pointing towards the ceiling. He urges Kate to climb onto him. She accepts his guidance, situating herself with her knees around his hips. She leans down to kiss him once more, then moves back with an anxious expression over her face.

“ Relax, sunshine,” he reminds her.

She blushes at the nickname, but more so at the fact that they are about to do something she cannot take back. Kate is moving faster with Sebastian than she has with anyone else in her entire life. She cannot bring herself to reason, to think clearly, to halt it all to a stop. She wants him so badly; she is completely intoxicated by his presence, sweet words, and all of the pleasure he promises.

Sebastian puts his hands over Kate’s legs and pushes them outwards in an attempt to open Kate up as much as possible for him. She takes a deep breath, exhaling as she begins to lower herself onto him. His head slowly pushes inside of her, and she responds with a moan as she continues on, hoping to completely sheathe him. But a sharp stinging sensation stops her from going further. She knows it is because she hasn’t had sex in years. Kate has barely taken half of Sebastian’s cock and already needs to take a moment to adjust to his size.

He could see how much she was struggling, feeling her lips around him stretch close to their limit. At the same time, his breath is coming out sharply, his heart pumping so hard and fast. He can’t wait for her to take all of him, but he knows he cannot be rough with her. He slowly places his hands on her lower back, pushing gently down on her arse.

“ Take me, Kate,” he whispers in a deeply masculine yet soothing tone. “I know you can take it all. Come on, princess.”

Kate’s eyes close, cringing and hissing as she attempts to push him deeper. The stinging envelops her senses, but she knows she mustkeep going. Centimeter by centimeter, her tight pussy eventually accepts his entire length.

“Don’t move, please. I need a moment,” Kate begs him, trying to relax and allow her body some time to accommodate him.

“You’re doing just fine, Kate,” he whispers softly, smiling up at her, almost proud of how much effort is required for her to adjust to his size. “You’re taking me so well. You’re perfect for me, my love.” His hand caresses her back, almost tickling. He encourages her to lean down so that he can kiss her lips passionately, slowly, and gently. “I’ve never felt this way about anyone before,” he murmurs before kissing her again. “ Never, Kate.”

My love? He can’t possibly mean that. It’s just something he is saying right now, Kate tries to convince herself when alarm bells ring in her head. Just let go and enjoy yourself. You deserve this.

“I’m going to try to move now,” Kate says cautiously. “Is that okay?”

Sebastian nods, his eyes locked on hers. “Of course, my love. Move at your own pace. Do what feels good for you . I promise it will be good for me no matter what.”

His hands once again move up her back, slowly caressing up and down the expanse of her spine. He could tell that Kate enjoyed his touches, so he was doing his best to help her feel good.

“How are you feeling?” Sebastian asked gently.

Kate smiled awkwardly at first, but then her voice became more tender and romantic. “Very, very full. But I have to say… just like everything else with you, it feels right. You fit just right - just as you thought.”

She leans down to deeply kiss his lips. And finally, finally, she begins to move her body around in circles, testing the waters. Then, as her pleasure begins to skyrocket, she slowly moves up and down. A huge smile and blush spreads across Sebastian’s face. He lets his hands wander down, gently squeezing her soft hips while thrusting his hips up and down, moving in sync with her actions.

“Does that feel good, my love?” he asks, his voice strained.

“Oh my gods, Sebastian, it feels so good… oh, so good…” She moans, starting to move faster. “Yes… oh, yes…”

Sebastian continues to move with her, his breathing coming out sharp and fast, in time with her movements. He squeezes her hips harder as she begins moving faster.

“Oh, Kate,” he moaned, his eyes closing in pleasure. “You feel amazing. I just knew you would.”

“Oh, gods !” she cries out as his fingernails dig into her hips. “Sebastian… oh, my gods… we fit perfectly… you’re so deep… so deep inside of me… oh, gods !”

Sebastian groans at her words, opening his eyes again to observe how much Kate was enjoying herself. Her head was thrown back, and he had a perfect view of her bouncing breasts.

“We belong together,” he whispers, his words broken by a series of soft moans and gasps from Kate. “You can’t deny it, can you, Kate?” One of his hands traveled up to her soft stomach to her left breast, squeezing it and brushing his thumb over her nipple.

Kate’s breathing is growing heavier, her body starting to tremble as he teases her. “Oh… oh, gods… yes…” she chokes out.

Every single thrust inside of her causes Sebastian to moan louder and louder. “You can’t deny it, can you? Do you feel it, too, Kate?” he asks in a gravelly voice, biting his lip.

“Oh, Sebastian… I can feel it… I can feel it… Oh, gods! Yes ! Oh, gods …” she whines uncontrollably as he runs his hands over both of her breasts. Then, his fingers slowly return to her hips, where surely he is bruising her with how hard he grips her flesh.

Sebastian can’t take it anymore. He has to have control over her. He wants to fuck her senseless, to be the one to cause her to completely surrender. He suddenly pushes and flips Kate over onto her back in one fast, sweeping motion. His cock slips out of her in the process, and she looks at him in stunned surprise, gasping. He quickly shoves himself back inside of her, groaning.

“ Gods, Kate,” he moans. “You’re so bloody gorgeous, my gods.”

Kate is being driven mad as he thrusts deeply inside of her. She groans as his mouth finds her shoulder and neck, sucking and biting, creating bruises and leaving tooth marks.

Soon, she reaches the very edge as he pounds into her deeply. Every time, he almost pulls out completely and then immediately drives himself all the way back in, over and over and over again. Wet noises and the sound of slapping skin fill the air, along with their combined cries.

“Sebastian… Sebastian… I’m close!” Kate wails.

He grins as he listens to her panting deeply. “ Yes , Kate,” he groans, his teeth nibbling on her shoulder again as he continues to slam his hips into hers. “Come for me, my Kate.” He is barely able to focus; he is desperately trying to stave off his own climax, wanting her to fall prey to chaos first.

Kate wraps her legs completely around Sebastian’s hips and back, giving him a little more room to push deeper, and just then, it happens. His teeth close around her shoulder, and she falls off of the edge and into desire. Climaxing hard all around him, her walls tighten around his member. “ Nnnngh… Oh, oh, gods… Sebastian… oh, oh, oh, gods! Oh, Sebastian… I’m- I’m- ugh!” she screams, unable to finish her sentence.

Sebastian smiles proudly as he feels her muscles contract around him. Her fingers dig into his back, holding him tightly as she enjoyed her release. He knew that his own was coming soon. He increases his pace, pumping into her even harder as he laid kisses all over her neck and collarbone.

“Oh my gods, Kate,” he moans, his voice breaking. “I’m so close...”

Kate pushes back onto him, helping him along. Wanting him to feel the same pleasure, her nails scratch his back as he absolutely pounds into her. “Oh, Sebastian!” she cries out.

He groans, nearing the cliff - so, so, close, ready to throw himself into the abyss. “Kate… I’m… my gods, I’m close!” he hissed.

Reaching under his arms, she grasps his shoulders as he thrusts a couple more times, quite erratically, his hips sputtering until he finally finds his release. Kate can feel him twitching and emptying inside of her as he moans. Sebastian’s knees begin to buckle, but he quickly regains his composure.

Still inside of Kate, with a love-filled gaze, he gasps out, “Bloody hell… There’s nothing… like this…” He allows himself to collapse on top of her but attempts to not smother her with his entire weight, shifting some of it elsewhere. Sebastian moves a hand to her chin, lifting it up and meeting her lips with a kiss. “Nothing in the world… can top that…”

Kissing him back, Kate runs her hands through his sweat-damp hair. As she caresses his cheeks, red with exertion, she whispers, “That… that was so good. I feel amazing. Sebastian, you were amazing.”

“You were amazing, too, Kate,” he replies gently, his fingers running up and down her back slowly. “I couldn’t ask for someone better.” Sebastian smiles before kissing her sweetly on the nose. He slowly pulls out of her, laying on his side right next to Kate. “I think I’ll be keeping you with me, my love.” His tone is playful, but he is serious.

Those words again: my love. Kate is filled with concern, debating if she should say something. It isn’t possible. He can’t mean it.

She gives Sebastian a small smile, but her brows are knitted in confusion. “Why do you keep calling me that?”

Sebastian suddenly looks a little nervous but laughs softly. “Oh… Do you not like me calling you ‘my love?’” He tries to maintain a playful tone, knowing he might have misstepped. Gently caressing her arms, he whispers in an attempt to recover, “But we are lovers, are we not?” His face moves closer to hers, their noses touching. “If we are, then you can’t blame a man for being romantic.”

Kate hesitates. “I mean… I suppose you are correct - we are lovers now, but… calling someone your love is different - at least, it feels different to me. It’s almost like saying, ‘I love you.’ Love is a strong, strong word, Sebastian,” she explains carefully. “I don’t use that word lightly.”

Sebastian listens intently, taking in what she said, trying to quickly process it all in his mind. “But… what was… what was that just now?” he asked, his voice slightly breaking. “If that wasn’t love, then… what was that?” He was completely serious in asking, starting to panic. “We made love, Kate. We shared something just now that most people will never be able to experience. Please… please tell me that what we shared just now wasn’t meaningless to you.”

“No! That isn’t what I meant, Sebastian,” Kate replies quickly, kissing his cheek. “This… this was incredible. Really. It wasn’t meaningless to me. It felt… well, it felt…” she pauses, trying to think of the right word and failing. Taking a different approach, she continues. “Sebastian, I believe we share something deep. I’m sure of it now.” She bites her lip. “But it’s far too soon for me to say it’s love.”

Sebastian stayed silent for a moment. He kisses her cheek in return. “You’re right, Kate,” he whispers softly. “Yes, you’re right. Our… relationship is far too young. I’m just… so happy to experience this with you.” He scoots closer to her, kissing her other cheek gently. “But Kate… I will make you fall in love with me. I promise,” he says, his words broken by a tiny chuckle. Even so, it was clear he meant every word. “When I want something, I never let go. I never stop. I am as persistent as they come, sunshine.”

She kisses his cheek again. “I would like to fall in love with you, Sebastian. You might need to be more patient with me, though.”

“I’m not known for being patient, but, for you, Kate, I am willing to be the most patient man there ever was. I… I’ll do anything for you.” He then winks playfully, placing a quick peck on her nose. “We do share something in common, though,” he notes quietly, his eyes darting up to hers. “We both wanted to fall in love the moment we locked eyes with each other, princess.”

Kate smiles, playfully acting as though she is confused. “And… how is it that you know that, exactly? I don’t recall this discussion.” She chuckles.

Sebastian laughs softly. “Oh, it wasn’t really a discussion, Kate.” He pauses for a moment, deep in thought. “It was something I felt when I first saw you. That twinkle in your eyes… that sweet laughter of yours… your joyful aura… it all struck a chord deep within me. One I’ve never felt before.” He meets her eyes again, his gaze piercing her soul. “Deep inside, I knew that I wanted… no, needed … you in my life. That’s why we are here right now, Kate. That’s why we are going to fall in love. It’s inevitable. I just know it.”

Kate’s lips part, and she stares at him in wonder. “That’s… quite romantic, Sebastian… I don’t really know what to say to that.”

Sebastian smiles at her, his fingers caressing her cheek. He looks at her innocently, hoping she wouldn’t be scared by his next question. “I know it’s morning, but neither of us got any sleep… Could we sleep next to each other for a while? Could I hold you while we sleep? Or do you want me to go now?” he asked nervously, his face turning red. He felt as though this would be a bold request.

With purpose and certainty, Kate gazes upon him. “Yes. Yes, I would like that, Sebastian. Please don’t leave now. Stay with me.”

Feeling like he won a prize, he grins and gently touches the tip of his nose to hers. “I will never leave you alone, Kate. I promise you this.”

Sebastian puts his right arm above her, moving it towards her head. As though his arm is a makeshift pillow, he places her head on it. His left arm wraps around Kate’s body, squeezing her softly. Then, the tips of his fingers pet her hair gently.

“Mmmm, this is nice,” Kate murmurs, enjoying the comfort of his arms. She nuzzles into his chest. “I could get used to this.”

He sighs lightly, smiling at her words. Planting a tiny kiss on her forehead, he whispers, “This could be an every-night thing, Kate.”

“Sebastian…” she murmurs, not sure what to say. She trails off. Her eyelids are so heavy. “I am so sleepy… So sleepy…” She begins to close her eyes.

His voice and touch became soothing and calming. “Sleep, Kate,” Sebastian whispers gently. “I will keep you safe. I will protect you from everything. I promise. You can rest and close your eyes, princess.” He presses his lips to her forehead again.

Kate relaxes into him, putting her arm around him as well. Her eyes finally close, feeling the warmth, security, and comfort of his body against hers. It is heavenly - like nothing she has ever felt before. She never wants to let go. Is it crazy to wonder if he actually is the person I am meant to be with for the rest of my life? Rather than getting too swept away in her feelings, Kate allows her breathing to slow, her chest rising and falling with each steady breath. Then, she finally surrenders to sleep, after the most exciting night of her entire life.

Like a shield, Sebastian completely embraces her, as she rests on his chest. His left hand was carefully placed on her stomach, his thumb slowly drawing circles against her skin. His eyes fixate on the movement of her chest as the tension finally releases from her body. He places his lips on her forehead again and again, kissing her softly and sweetly as he enjoys this moment of intimacy. He, too, is thinking about what might become of the two of them. He already feels like he loves her, which fills him with hope but also terrifieshim. His thoughts are spiraling out of control.

What will Kate think when she finds out who I really am? Will she reject me instantly? I couldn’t blame her. I had so many chances to tell her the truth. I didn’t take them. Gods, I hope she understands. She’s so bloody kind. Maybe kind enough to look beyond my past. I couldn’t bear the thought of never seeing her again after this. I might as well die or go back to Azkaban if I can’t have her. She’s perfect. Absolutely perfect. She’s exactly who I need. An angel. A beautiful, beautiful angel… look at her. Her gorgeous form. Gods, look at her. I’m lost. Fuck… I’m desperate already to make love to her again… and again… and again… until I convince her body and mind and soul that we are meant for each other. I can’t lose her. I can’t. Not after getting this close. It would destroy me.

Sebastian yawns, eventually realizing there is no point to overthinking - it will surely drive him mad. All he can do is hope… and wait. The time will surely come in which he will need to explain it all. But right now, he needs to rest, to cuddle Kate, to fall asleep with her safely in his arms. Even if it cannot last forever, he can enjoy this moment of peace. He can relax. He is home. And nothing will be the same ever again.

#hogwarts legacy fanfic #hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy sebastian #sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow x oc #post azkaban sebastian #hufflepuff #slytherin #harry potter #aged up Sebastian sallow #older sebastian sallow #hogwarts legacy fanart

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ingravinoveritas · 2 years

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I think something has happened to Michael... last time he was this quiet on social media he was very ill with corona, and now David received the stage award without him again... I hope I'm wrong. I liked David acceptance video but I miss Michael, and I especially miss Michael with David.

(Grouping these together, since they are in a similar vein.)

Aw, Anon #1. I remember that from last year, too...Michael being sick with Covid, which ended up being the reason David accepted the Radio Times award without him. It was a bittersweet time, because even though we didn’t get to see them together, we could see how much David was (and is) missing Michael.

But in the case of last year, it was the Covid, whereas in terms of right now, I think Michael’s been so quiet because he is busy filming a new series called Best Interests for BBC1 and it’s a serious, emotional drama, so that is probably taking up most of his time and energy. There are also a few new pictures that have emerged of Michael in Cheltenham with Sharon Horgan on set:

So Michael seems to be in fine form and fettle (thankfully)--just super busy with filming this series (and oh yeah, AL is also pregnant with kid #2--which has oddly barely warranted a mention since the initial announcement back in March).

But I am with both you and Anon #2...I definitely miss Michael and David together, too. I love that there is such a parallel between David’s face and reaction when accepting the New York Film and TV award this year and when accepting the Radio Times award last year:

In both cases, David can’t help but mention Michael (which of course makes sense, given that the awards are for Staged), but what does it for me is the twinkle in his eye and the little grin he gives to the camera. With the NY award particularly, you can see him try not to, but he can’t hide the smile on his face when talking about Michael. And with the Radio Times award, we see that David quite literally has a giant cardboard cutout of Michael’s head (...why?) and implying that he has had Georgia imitate Michael’s voice in the past.

This actually becomes the first appearance of the giant cardboard cutout, with David showing it off again just a few weeks later on the Late Late Show AND calling Michael his “emotional support pet.” In both instances, you can feel and see the emotion and affection underpinning everything David is saying, how he just lights up from within when talking about Michael, and it’s absolutely the sweetest thing ever.

At this point, it does seem and feel strange to see David and Michael without each other--especially when it comes to anything related to Staged. I’ve mentioned this on my blog previously, but I’m not sure how I feel about a third season of the show. If it were just Michael and David making each other laugh and flirting, I would watch it in a fucking heartbeat...but I’m afraid it might just be a rehash of the first two seasons, and/or cluttered up with more celebrity cameos (which just got to be distracting after a while, and took away from Michael and David’s screen time).

I also think the world has moved on, and that particular cultural “moment” in time--the zenith of lockdown, as it were--has passed, so it just wouldn’t really work in a post-Covid world (not that we are post-Covid, because the pandemic is definitely still happening and affecting disabled/immunocompromised/high risk individuals, but way too many people are acting like it isn’t).

But yes...Anon #2, I feel you in anticipating the GO season 2 press tour, and right now it just seems a million years away, which makes the absence of Michael/David content and them being together even more pronounced. We can hope that something will happen before then--perhaps after Michael finishes filming this series, depending on how many commitments and projects they both have coming up--but if not, at least we have that glorious press tour to look forward to one day.

And even if they don’t make a public appearance together, we can still hope that Michael and David are getting to spend time together privately, or will have the chance before long. Because as much as we miss them together, I don’t think it’s anywhere near as much as they miss each other when they’re apart. So lovely...

#anonymous #reply post #michael sheen #welsh seduction machine #david tennant #soft scottish hipster gigolo #radio times #new york film and tv awards #also it amuses me to no end that in both acceptance videos Georgia is there but not even visible #while Michael is prominently featured/mentioned and isn't even there #i'm just saying #and here i thought David was supposed to be the subtle one #amazing #nothing moments that add up to something #ineffable lovers #discourse #gifs by me

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kyovtani · 3 years

Text

𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞 – 𝐤𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐢 𝐤𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐮 (𝟐)

— pairing: Kyoutani Kentarou x female Reader

— genre: smut, angst, little bit of fluff to keep the balance; tattoo artist!kyoutani, inexperienced!reader, strangers to lovers!AU, SLOW BURN

— word count: 9.6k

— warnings: swearing, mentions of infidelity and violence, as well as the consumption of drugs and alcohol; smut: corruption kink, degradation and dumbification, dacryphilia, praising, spitting, (soft) dom!kyou, oral (m. receiving), fingering, dry humping, unprotected sex (dont do that kids), impreg kink, iwaoi say hi-

— (A/N: and here’s part two! thank you SO much for all the love you sent my way after i published the first part. ngl i was a little nervous bc i thought it was boring and not interesting at all but you guys easily pushed me out of that hole so thank you for everything. i love and appreciate you with my whole heart. all the love, zade xx)

[ part one ]

— summary: after fucking up, you make it your mission to get him back..(im so bad at this pls just- okay.)

"He's not picking up, Hana", you say, another soft cry falling from your lips before you bury your face in your pillow.

“Once in my fucking life a guy treats me good and the way I've always wanted to be treated and I had to fuck it up. Why the fuck am I like this, Hana? Why can I not enjoy one fucking good thing in my fucking mediocre life", the profanities keep coming just like the tears and the amount of frustration and anger rushing through your veins is nowhere near normal anymore.

"Calm down, love", Hana sighs and makes you sit up so she can look into your tear stained face as she tries her best to make sure her words actually find their way to your pain clouded mind, "at this point you shouldn't worry too much because you do know Kyoutani, don't you? He does lose his temper a lot, so give him the time he needs and then you'll show up at his doorstep, suck his cock and make up with him, yeah?", she explains calmly.

"If this hurts you so much, why the fuck did you even say he's just a friend, Y/N? I really don't understand", Hana mumbles and lets out another sigh, her hands caressing yours softly, managing to calm you down a little bit.

“You're right, I should just– give him some time and things will eventually fall into place", you reply after crying a little more and with an encouraging smile your best friend nods at you before she suggests a movie marathon to which you happily agree.

At least something to distract you from all the demons inside your head.

After changing into your pj's and doing your night time routine, you plop down onto the couch next to your bestie again, her eyes focused on the phone in her hand and knowing she's probably either sexting or inviting her new boyfriend has you shrugging at her lack of attention as you start looking for a good movie to begin the night with.

However, just when you're about to read the description of some kind of french rom-com, Hana puts her phone back into her lap and starts staring at you with her pretty eyes widened in shock.

"What's wrong?", you ask and turn to look at her, reaching for her hands but before you even get the chance to touch her, Hana unlocks her phone and holds it up for you to watch someone's instagram story.

The video begins with loud music, a crowd full of young college students whose faces definitely are familiar.

Everyone in the video is dancing, making out, smoking and just chatting in a random living room and every now and then there's someone yelling in the back – a typical college party.

However, just as the video is about to end, the camera shifts to a tall male leaning against the wall, obviously standing really close to the person who's filming and it takes you a full blown thirty seconds to realize who said male is.

Kyoutani Kentarou.

You stare at the phone for another minute, your throat dry and your head empty as a thick veil of tears slowly starts blurring your sight before you finally decide to pay attention to the username.

"He can't be fucking serious", you hiss, fisting the blanket beneath you, the urge to punch something or someone becoming unbearable, "what the fuck is he doing at a random college party with – Sora?"

"Y/N, don't–", "Whose party is that?", you interrupt your best friend, not giving a single fuck about her attempts to calm you down; not anymore. Hana gulps harshly and strictly avoids your gaze as she mumbles a name and you roll your eyes, asking her to speak up with an annoyed sigh.

"It's one of Yuuji’s frat parties", and as soon as your best friend says the name of your ex-boyfriend, a cold shiver of disgust runs down your spine and you can feel yourself getting lightheaded from all the emotions rushing through your overwhelmed body.

"Don't follow me if you're going to stop me from leaving, Hana", you say and stand up before quickly disappearing inside your room.

You have no idea how you manage to get dressed, your outfit consisting of a pair of jeans and a hoodie you can't even remember buying and you don't even wanna think about what your hair and face look like when you end up leaving the house with your keys and your phone.

After driving this route for over two years on an almost daily basis, it takes you less than ten minutes to arrive in front of the huge house your ex-boyfriend lives in.

The memories start finding their way back into your head way too fast, taking away your breath and numbing your whole body because even if you didn’t love Yuuji anymore, the bitter feeling of betrayal still manages to hit you in just the right way.

It takes you a lot of willpower to actually approach the house and eventually get in. And after being in between the crowds of drunk, stinky college students, you remember why you hate college parties so much.

"I – Wow”, a familiar voice manages to break through the loud music, your instant reaction just an annoyed eye roll, “you were the last person I expected to see at one of our frat parties", Yuuji says and comes to stand in front of you.

His blonde hair messily falling into his handsome face and from the way his whole face seems to be covered in the deepest shade of red – including his eyes – you know that he's probably higher than the stars and you can't help but sigh.

"I'm not here to party, Yuuji", you hiss, feeling the anger crawl up your spine again the longer you look at your ex, "my boyfriend is here and I have to talk to him."

"So you and that tattooed guy are actually a thing? Didn't think so since he, you know – showed up with another girl", Terushima mumbles and pulls out a cigarette from his pocket, a mischievous smile on his lips.

"Oh, shut the fuck up, Yuuji", you spit back and roll your eyes, taking in the way the pretty boy arches his brows up in pure shock at your rather new attitude, "go and get high or whatever you do to feel proud of yourself", are the last words you say to him before you walk away, your heart thrumming inside your throat.

Your eyes roam the huge crowd, desperately searching for the only face you wanna look at right now and you try to remember where they were standing in the video Sora had posted only to realize that you can't remember.

After all you only watched the video once, your whole attention laying on Kyoutani. And after almost fifteen minutes, you find yourself slowly giving up.

Maybe this was just not meant to happen or maybe Kyoutani has left already.

He probably left with Sora- something you can’t and won’t ever blame him for.

After all she's literally one of the prettiest and hottest girls you have ever seen – anyone who rejects her would be out of their mind (or not attracted to girls which isn't the case when it comes to Kyoutani).

You give it another ten minutes of desperately looking around before you let out a deep sigh which gets lost in the loudness and thick air of the party before you finally start making your way back to the front door.

You quickly walk back to your car, trying your best to ignore everyone around you, especially all the drunk guys who are currently about to get into a verbal fight over something totally random and the last thing you want to experience those threats becoming reality.

At some point you're scared they might even include you which is probably why you end up literally sprinting and even though you always park so far away from frat houses just because you've heard way too many stories of people getting their cars stolen during parties, but right now you just wished you would have listened to your gut feeling and parked in front of the fraternity like every normal person.

However, to your life long luck, you spot a tall figure standing a little too close to your vehicle just as you’re about to unlock it. You slow down your movements almost instantly upon seeing the stranger, yet your eyes still try to figure out if it's someone you know despite the darkness surrounding the two of you.

He has probably spotted you by now, after all you're still panting like crazy from speed walking down to where your car is and it takes you a full minute to realize how loud you're actually being.

"Y/N", the male suddenly says, his deep voice sending shivers down your spine and even though it could have been everyone, it sounds a tad bit too familiar to your ears which is probably why you end up approaching him slowly.

"It's me, Kyoutani", he adds and at the same moment the words leave his lips, you finally recognize his pretty features which seem extra beautiful underneath the bright moonlight.

And then realization hits you.

"How did you know–", "Hana called me and asked if I could make sure you got home even if I didn't want to talk to you. So, here I am. Get in the car so I can tell her I did my part of the job", he interrupts you quickly, obviously not having the intention to interact with you and the way his usually so tender-filled eyes and calming voice are nothing but ice-cold has a thick veil of tears blurring your sight.

Never ever did you think about the moment, where Kyoutani puts the cold mask on he loved to hide behind when he had first looked at you all those weeks ago.

And the longer he avoids your gaze, the heavier the burden on your chest becomes.

"I'm sorry, Tani", you whisper, your voice breaking at the end, easily giving away how much his cold demeanor has gotten to you.

“Of course you're not just a friend to me and I d-don't know why I introduced you like that, everything happened so quickly and I – panicked. It's not an excuse and does not justify my behavior but I just wanted you to know that you've always been more than just a friend to me", you continue, managing to keep talking upon realizing that Kyoutani won't interrupt you and the way he even listens to you with his eyes looking everywhere but yours is absolutely enough for you.

"What am I to you then, Y/N? Am I the guy you're casually fucking? Your booty call? Am I your second choice? Like what the fuck do you expect me to say? I know we never put a label to – this", he starts pointing at you and then himself, "but you knew I was serious about it, about you. So, I just don't understand why you would even think about considering me a friend. I told you that I am not one for that friends with benefits kinda shit and you agreed yet you did this and now I can't help but be convinced you just used me to get that Yuuji fucker.”

Kyoutani is angry and he doesn't even try to hide it as he spits out those words, the ones he’s probably been dying to say out loud for the past few days and you know he has every right to actually be mad at you, his words still hit you in a way you didn't expect them to.

"I'd never do that to you, Kentarou; I'd never use you like that, please believe me", you say quickly, a little surprised you're even able to form proper sentences.

“You m-mean so much to me and I just don't know how to put it into words. My heart hurt so much when I watched you type your number into Sora's phone but the demons in my head, they just kept talking over my heart and – I'm just really sorry, Kyou, I really am", you sigh and after realizing that he's not going to look at you, you finally manage to shift your gaze away from his pretty face.

"Go home, Y/N. It's been a long day for both of us and I think some more distance will help me get my mind straight", Kyoutani replies after a long, torturous beat of silence lingering in the cold air and even if it wasn’t the reply you had hoped to hear, you're glad he's at least not completely ending it.

"Okay b-but at least let me drive you home?", you ask softly, wiping away the few tears which had managed to escape and when you look up at the beautiful faced male in front of you, his eyes meet you for the first time since what feels like forever and you feel yourself melting away.

"I don't think that's a good idea, pretty girl", Kyoutani sighs, the soft pet name sending your mind into the sweetest haze of comfort just like that, "it's only been a few days but I am craving your touch and I just know I'm going to lose it and fuck you against the next best surface if we get into that car together, so I have to decline this offer", he adds and takes another step back, his lips stretching into a tiny smile and you can’t deny how much his words have you gotten you worked up, but you have no choice but to nod.

"Have a good night, baby", Kyoutani sighs and deep down you're hoping for a kiss, after all it's been way too long since you got to feel close to him but instead, he just lifts his hand up and starts waving at you and just as he is about to turn around, you find yourself reaching for his wrist. The fear and despair inside of you making you a little too brave for your personal liking but you know you can't just let him walk away like that.

"Please, Tani- Kyoutani", you whisper and let out a soft sigh of relief when he turns around to face you again, "I won't try anything, I just want to spend a little bit more time with you."

Kyoutani takes a deep breath, his dark eyes roaming your face and wandering down your body and even though it feels like he's literally devouring you alive, you enjoy his burning gazes regardless, a hidden part inside of you even craving them.

A solid minute passes by before he lets out a sigh and gives you a nod, his plump lips pressed into a thin line.

It takes you another deep breath and a couple of seconds to actually calm yourself down from the rollercoaster of emotions you've been through within the time span of an hour and as you sit there in your car, inhaling the cold air of the night, your mind starts replaying everything that went down, starting from the day you met Kyoutani, to your first and most recent kiss, as well as the encounter with Sora and your deep anger towards Yuuji.

The drive to Kyoutani's apartment passes by in a blur, way too fast for your liking and you can't help but pout when you pull up in front of the huge building, knowing very well that this will be the last interaction with the handsome tattoo artist for the upcoming few days and you can already feel tears pricking at the corners of your eyes.

He's been awfully quiet, not like you actually said anything but Kyoutani's silence was intense, boring into your soul and actually suffocating you to a point where the urge to just jump out of the car became overwhelming.

You know he's probably going through everything just like you, yet the feeling that his thoughts are more on the negative side just won't leave you alone and you hate the way your assumptions are being confirmed as soon as Kyoutani turns to look at you.

"I – love you, Y/N", he suddenly says, his voice soft and calm, yet still deep and the way it's filled with tenderness and the sweetest bit of longing makes the effect of those magical words even heavier.

Your lips part in shock, your head having a difficult time actually processing his confession and you can feel your whole body going into a standby mode.

"But you're not good for me."

You remember the way your heart broke into thousands of pieces when you found out the alleged love of your life was cheating on you without even batting an eye.

The pain was so intense and heavy, you didn't know how to deal with it and at some point you were convinced that your heart had stopped beating for a solid minute. It was bad, left you speechless and threw you into a hole of darkness you barely managed to escape from, yet still leaving you grateful for the experience.

You thought your first heartbreak would be able to prepare you for what's to come in the future, but what you went through as soon as those words had fallen past Kyoutani’s lips, can't be compared to anything you've ever felt before.

Your heart starts clenching as his words keep replaying inside of your head and your throat so is going absolutely dry from your desperate attempts to gasp for air as the feeling of being suffocated comes back.

Everything around you seems to disappear, your eyes still focused on Kyoutani's intense gaze as the feeling of emptiness starts filling up your whole body.

You easily lose track of time, your heart beat so slow and heavy and when the wave of reality crashes you yet again, an almost inaudible sob falls past your lips.

"B-But...", you can't get yourself to speak, the words getting stuck in your throat and soft cries the only thing filling the inside of your car.

And yet, there are so many things you want to tell him, so many things rushing through your mind at the highest speed, almost impossible to grasp them and actually put them into proper sentences.

"You have too much control over me. I lost myself trying to fit into the picture of a lover you need and deserve. But – I am not who I used to be anymore”, Kyoutani explains, nervously rubbing the sides of his pierced node with his thumb as he avoids looking in your direction at all costs.

“I am scared of losing what's obviously not mine. You make me feel weak and vulnerable and I just can't deal with it. You've become the center of my world, and I can't control how much it affects me. How much you affect me and – I hate it", he continued, his voice is still incredibly calm, yet a bittersweet tone of fear coating every single one of his words.

"B-But...", yet again, the whole of your vocabulary seems vanished, not one word to say as the knot in your throat tightens even further.

"I'm sorry, Y/N. I thought I could do it but – I am not meant to love and you deserve to be loved in the most special way possible”, he takes another quick break, letting out a sigh of exhaustion, “and that's why I'm letting you go. Please, don't hate me. Take care and – goodbye, my love.”

Those are his last words before he presses his lips against your forehead, making your head spin like crazy because of the contrast of his heartbreaking words and his soft kiss.

Kyoutani leaves without saying another word. He doesn't even look back once as he walks away and enters the apartment building, while you can't stop staring at the door with hot tears streaming down your cheeks and loud sobs filling the suffocating air surrounding you.

There you are, yet again.

Your eyes staring into the dark night as your body tries to cope with the intensity of pain you've thought you had overcome.

The constant breaking of your heart starts numbing every part of your body and you slowly start losing yourself in this certain kind of darkness.

Seconds turn into minutes and without even realizing, a whole hour has gone by with you staring into nothing.

Your mind plays games with you as it keeps replaying his words, his behavior, his kiss and the feeling of slowly but certainly going insane as you get out of the car a little too fast.

You tumble back, the sudden coldness hitting you right in the face and the mental as well as physical exhaustion has your body trembling.

And then it hits you.

The wave of anger, wrath, frustration and hatred literally wakes you up, pulls you back into reality and ends up taking over you completely.

Your eyes find the huge apartment building Kyoutani lives in, staring at it as if you could set it on fire and you know what you're about to do is a bad idea but your body acts before your mind can even get the chance to intervene.

And that's how you find yourself almost brutality slamming your fist against Kyoutani's door, your heart hammering against your rib cage way too fast for it to be still physically healthy and ten thousand different thoughts rushing through your chaotic mind.

"What the fuck is going – Y/N", Kyoutani looks at you with his pretty eyes slightly widened in shock, his lips parting as he struggles to keep his eyes on you and a disgusting feeling of shame and embarrassment starts filling you up.

You know this is pathetic, you are aware of how stupid you look standing in front of him like this but you just can't get yourself to actually care about it.

"Y/N, please don't-", "No, I listened to what you had to say and now I'm going to talk and you're going to listen to me. Before that I am not going anywhere because I deserve this", you cut him off, hands balled into fists as you try to stay calm but the more you think about his words in the car, the angrier you get.

"I–", Kyoutani sighs, his eyes nervously roaming your face and upon noticing the way you seem to shiver from the cold and your lack of clothing, he lets his conscience get the best of him, "alright, come in then.”

You follow him inside, the familiar scent of vanilla and Kyoutani's favorite febreeze scent filling your nose and you hate the way how comfortable you are.

After all you've been spending quite some time in this apartment; visiting him after your classes so he could bury his face between your legs and then offer you some homemade food, followed by a good old ghibli movie and lots of cuddles has become some kind of routine.

Oh, how you hate him for ruining all of those memories.

"Do you want something to drink? You're probably freezing", he offers, his voice filled with concern and you know he is right and you'd definitely give everything for a cup of tea and maybe some water, you still shove all of your body’s basic needs into the very back of your head and try to regain your composure.

"I – you – we", you take a deep breath, your mind struggling to put all of those racing thoughts into some kind of order, yet failing miserably.

But there's so much you want to say to him; so many things you want him to hear and now that you are actually standing in front of him, your body betrays you.

"You're a fucking coward, Kyoutani Kentarou", is the first thing you finally manage to let out, "and I hate you for leaving me like this. I fucking hate you.”

Deep down, you hate yourself for saying those words; the choice of words and the incredible heaviness they come with are usually not your way of expressing yourself yet you're not regretting them.

You don't know how this night is going to end, maybe this will be the last time you get to see Kyoutani or he'll eventually fuck you into oblivion and you finally end up together; but nevertheless you want your words to hurt him; you want them to wake him up just like his did to you.

"How dare you confess your love to me and tell me I basically ruined your life in the same breath when you're the one who's fucking all of this – us up. Yes, I’ve made a mistake and I've been regretting my choice of words for the past four days, even came to the point where I accepted your distance and decided to let go because I know how much my words hurt you. But us ending like this? Definitely not going to happen", Kyoutani stares at you with his pretty eyes focusing you attentively, barely blinking, not moving at all; he’s just listening to you.

"I just – don't understand how you can be this oblivious."

"Oblivious? Oblivious to what?", he asks, his voice a little deeper and raspier, sending goosebumps straight dow your spine as if your body needed to remind you the effect he has on you.

"Oblivious to everything. This is what love does to people, Kentarou. Of course you're going to feel weak and vulnerable because of me - because of the one you love. After all the point of being loved and loving someone else is showing those vulnerabilities and weakness to the person you trust the most because you know, or at least you hope, they won't take advantage of it.”

You take a deep breath, your mind slowing down as you ease yourself into his calming embrace and subconsciously losing yourself in the comfort it comes with.

“I'm yours. I've been yours since the very first day and we both know this, that's why you are so scared of losing me. And that's why my words hurt you so much”, you can tell that he’s already processing your words as much as he can; his habit of scratching the back of his head giving him away easily.

"You said you've lost yourself trying to fit into this picture of someone who I deserve but – you are the one who created that picture in the first place. Just because my first boyfriend was an alleged goody two shoes doesn't mean that you have to be like that too. Fuck that", you hiss, the thought of Kyoutani changing even the slightest bit about himself sending jolts of anger through your veins, "I don't care if you dropped out of college or that you have tattoos and piercings and bleach blonde hair. None of that matters to me because it's you, your kind heart and your pure soul I fell in love with.”

And suddenly - you can feel the burden on your shoulders disappear when those certain words leave your lips and the second Kyoutani raises his eyebrows in slight surprise before he locks eyes with you again has another breath of fresh air run through your suffocated lungs.

"Yes, I'm in love with you, Kyoutani Kentarou. Believe it or not, but for me, you're perfect just like this, with all your tiny habits and every single tattoo. There's nothing I'd change about you and I'm genuinely, truly sorry if I ever made you feel like you needed to change for me. You're a great guy and I guess that's why I ran back here after sitting in that car, crying for an hour because I couldn't stop thinking about the way you confessed your love to me”, you feel the thick veil of tears appear before they manage to block your sight, making the pretty face in front of you turn into bourry little pixels as your emotions overwhelm you.

“And yes, you are meant to be loved; maybe not meant to be loved by me but you deserve to be loved, do you hear me?"

You go up to him, closing some of the distance between the two of you before your finger darts out and poke his strong chest, trying to ease the tension after letting go of all those thoughts, "you deserve to love and to be loved because you're a good person. And I just – wanted to thank you for letting me into your life. Meeting you, getting to know the beautiful person you are has been one of the best things that has happened to me and I will cherish these memories forever."

And with those words you take a deep breath, let out another sigh, goving away your acceptance of defeat before you lift your head and prepare yourself to say your last goodbye no matter how painful it is.

"Take care, Kyoutani Kentarou and thank you, for everything", the words fall past your lips in the form of a whisper solely because you're too scared to break if you raised your volume just slightly.

You turn around and feel the first tear find its way down your cheek before you even get to walk away.

And just as you wrap your fingers around the doorknob, the sound of rushed footsteps approaching you makes you halt your movements.

"D-Don't go", Kyoutani suddenly says, his voice breaking when he comes to stand behind you, so close you can actually feel the warmth he's radiating, "I need you...so bad", he whispers into your ear, pressing his forehead against the back of your neck and it's like everything that happened tonight becomes irrelevant.

You turn around, not expecting Kyoutani to push you against the door with his whole body, yet still embracing him as much as you can.

With a soft sob, you start inhaling his unique scent, grazing his soft skin with your fingers and letting the warmth blossom inside of your chest after feeling his rapid heartbeat beneath your palm.

"Don't leave me, please", he cries, the tears running down his flushed cheeks despite his desperate attempts of holding back, "let's do this whole love thing.”

You stand there for what feels like an eternity, just hugging each other, taking in each other's presence and calming down from everything that has happened in such a short time. You finally calm down completely, Kyoutani's soft touches and tiny kisses give you the last bit of energy you needed and for the first time in almost three months, there's not one demon in your head trying to make you overthink something.

Because this feels perfect; there's literally no other word to describe the feeling of holding Kyoutani Kentarou and being held by him.

But nevertheless, you've been on a constant adrenaline rush for the past four hours and the exhaustion has been killing you, making you grow tired a lot faster than usual.

"What about moving this to your room, hm? I'd rather fall asleep with you in your bed than against the door; especially because I know the boys are out and will be coming home soon", you say softly, lifting Kyoutani's head from the crook of your neck and looking at him.

He sighs and gives you a soft kiss, giving you a nod in response before he gets himself to let go of you; his warmth leaving with him and it's almost disgusting how you literally crave his presence.

After Kyoutani makes you drink two glasses of water to avoid the dehydration of your body, he hands you one of his thick hoodies and leaves you to get ready in his bathroom.

You come back to the sight of him sitting against the headboard of his king sized bed, his oversized shirt revealing the perfect amount of collarbones and you enjoy the sight of his pretty skin and the dark lines covering most of it as well as the way his sweats hug his strong thighs in the best way possible.

And as you watch his eyes lazily roam your body, a hot jolt of arousal finds its way through your veins and right to your cunt.

"Don't look at me like that, sweet girl", Kyoutani suddenly groans and cocks his head to the side, his tongue poking out to wet his lips before he gulps harshly; his eyes never once leaving yours.

"B-But Tani...", you reply, approaching him with tiny steps become you come to stand right next to his tall figure, feeling yourself growing needier because of the way your body is craving his touch now more than ever.

“Baby…”, he replies and gulps harshly, knowing your body better than yourself after weeks of getting to know you in a way nobody has ever before.

"Please, Tani...please, fuck me. I need to feel you inside of me. I've been waiting for so long...", you plead, your fingers coming to graze his pretty lips as memories of all the times he had turned you into a crying mess with those lips.

Kyoutani is just as affected by the change in tension as you, the slight bulge in his grey sweatpants as well as the hunger burning in his eyes giving him away.

"You're such a pretty angel girl, aren’t you?", he whispers and sits up, pulling you closer to make you stand in between his legs as he starts caressing your hot cheeks with his fingers.

“Yet you're saying all those naughty things”, Kentarou chuckles deeply, “imagine how people would react if they knew what a cockhungry little slut you actually are", upon hearing those degrading names, your cunt starts clenching around nothing and a high pitched whimper escaped your throat.

"For you...", you whisper, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth the second Kyoutani starts placing open mouthed kisses on your neck.

Your fingers dig into his shoulders, pulling the material of his shirt a little too tightly.

"Of course, baby, you're mine after all and this sweet cunt", the sudden feeling of his palm pressing against the damped fabric of your panties has you gasping for air, "belongs to me, and me only", Kyoutani grunts, pulling the skin of your neck between his lips before he starts sucking gently as well as slowly moving his fingers against the lacey fabric between your legs.

"Yes, it's yours", you reply, after several weeks of being intimate with Kyoutani you've learned one thing and that's how much he loves hearing you say all those dirty and lewd things, "please fuck me."

"Patience, my love, patience. I am going to fuck you", Kentarou replies calmly and suddenly pushes you away, his hands disappearing from your body and when your lid flutter open because of the lack of touch, he shoots you one of his cocky smirks, "but let's not forget the whole friend situation, hm? What about you make it up to me before I fuck you like the little whore you are?"

His words have excitement rush through your blood, your head literally spinning just from the thought of finally getting to be on the giving end after weeks of him playing the selfless lover.

You nod eagerly, anticipation sparkling in your eyes as you watch him palm himself over his sweats before you get on your knees and wait for him to let go of his now fully erect cock.

However, the more seconds pass by like this, the more nervous you become because for some reason you suddenly remember that you've basically never sucked dick before.

Your head shoots up with slight panic written all over your face and of course Kyoutani notices your change in demeanor right away.

"What's wrong, angel?", he asks you and stops the movements of his hands.

"I don't know how to do it, Tani", you whisper, knowing there's no point in being shy about it, after all he happens to be the guy you've experienced your most firsts with.

"It's okay, baby, I'm going to help you”, Kyoutani replies and actually loses his composure for a second, “fuck baby, don't look at me like this when I'm literally about to fuck your throat", he hisses, throwing his head back as he grunts and his hips desperately bucking into the air.

Kyoutani takes another deep breath before he finally pushes his hand underneath the waistband of his sweats and with your eyes focused on his movements, you watch him pull out his hard length, a soft hiss falling past his plump lips when the coldness of the room grazes the slightly wet tip of his cock.

You gulp harshly, his impressive size in girth as well as length has your pussy throbbing like crazy, yet you can't help but wonder how the hell he's going to fit inside of you.

“Don't worry, baby, I know you're going to take all of my cock like the good girl you are", Kyoutani says after observing your facial expressions for some time.

"Give me your hand", he asks you softly, his voice still raspy and incredibly hoarse yet still soothing and you appreciate his attempts to calm himself down so you won't feel too nervous. With your heart slamming against your rib cage, you lift your hand up and are slightly overwhelmed at the sudden feeling of Kyoutani's warm spit pooling inside your palm. Without adding anything, he straightens himself and motions you to stroke his hard cock.

Not once do you stop looking at him as you wrap your fingers around the base of his impressive length and slowly start jerking him off.

Kyoutani cocks his head to the side, his bottom lip pulled in between his teeth and his eyes constantly fluttering close.

"Start with the tip, angel- just wrap your lips around it and start sucking, but be careful with your teeth, yeah baby?", he grunts, his hips thrusting into your fist every time the pace of your strokes slows down.

You give him yet another nod before look up at him one more time and do as he says.

The feeling of his cock between your lips is – different.

It feels like it's not supposed to be there, yet the salty taste of his precum coating your tongue has you sighing softly. Your tongue darts out, giving his tip a tiny kitten lick before you go back to sucking on it eagerly.

And while you seem to enjoy it a lot, Kyoutani is going absolutely crazy. You can see the way he's tensing his body as his grip in the bed sheets tightens and the vein on his neck pops out.

"F-Fuck, baby, just like that", he praises you "now try to take more of it in a-and use your hand for the rest", Kyoutani's voice is shaky, his eyes are nervously roaming your swollen lips and the string of spit connecting them to the tip of his cock.

Without giving it another thought, you take a deep breath and take more of him, trying your best to not graze his sensitive cock with your teeth and despite your initial struggle, you still enjoy the feeling of his cock on your tongue.

You subconsciously wrap your fingers around the part of his cock which you can't fit inside your mouth and suddenly it's like your body knows exactly what to do.

Kyoutani's moans grow louder and the soft thrusts of his hips become a little less controlled. You look up at him every now and then, trying your best to keep the steady rhythm as you bop your head.

And then he suddenly thrusts his length all the way to the back of your throat, your gag reflex just about to go off when he pulls back which is the moment you take notice of the tears streaming down your cheeks.

You give him a soft smile before going back to wrapping your lips around his tip, but you don't get very far.

Kyoutani pulls you back, his grip on the back of your neck not firm enough to hurt you.

"I promise I'm going to fuck your throat properly and even cum in your mouth the next time we do this but right now I just can't stop thinking about that tight cunt of yours", he says, helping you get up and almost instantly pulling you onto his lap; his wet cock rubbing against your panty covered core as Kyoutani pulls you in for a kiss.

It's sloppy and rushed, the way his tongue grazes over yours before he pulls it between his lips and starts sucking at it. Your hips start moving against his cock, your sensitive pussy craving some kind of friction as the arousal has your head spinning like crazy.

You start moaning and whimpering into his mouth when Kyoutani’s hips start meeting your desperate movements, applying the perfect amount of pressure onto your needy clit.

You feel the knot in the pit of your stomach tightening, the clenching of your cunt becoming worse the more you hump Kyoutani's cock like a woman starved.

But nothing prepares you for the feeling of one of his large digits entering you. Your hole start clenching around his finger Kyoutani pushes another one in, both digits buried inside of your little cunt.

"Such a good girl for me, aren't you, baby? I'm going to finger you nice and slow so you're ready for my cock. Now come on, my love; show me what a good whore you are and ride my fingers", Kyoutani encourages you, his hot breath fanning against the sensitive skin behind your ear and without missing a beat, your hips meet the skillful thrusts of his fingers.

Kyoutani continues to whisper naughty things into your ear, his other hand eventually wrapping around your throat as he makes sure you look into his eyes when you stumble over the edge.

Your high hits you hard and fast, the intensity knocking the breath out of your lungs and leaving you gasping for it; something you should be used to by now yet still can't believe is even possible.

He pushes you off of his lap softly, helps you get rid of his shirt as well as your ruined panties before he makes you lay down in the middle of his bed; eyes locking with yours when he also starts undressing.

"My pretty girl", Kyoutani sighs, his hand caressing the soft skin of your thighs, spanking you every now and then just because he's absolutely obsessed with the way your whole body tenses whenever his hand meets your skin.

“Look at me", he orders and almost instantly your head shoots up to meet his gaze, the sight of his naked body distracting you a lot more than you expected but after all this is the first time you get to see the rest of his tattoos; the ones you usually only get a tiny glimpse of depending on his outfit choice.

Kyoutani spreads your legs apart, his eyes never leaving yours even when he starts jerking off again and you can't hold back the soft whimpers and begs leaving your lips.

But also something about his flushed cheeks and swollen lips as well as his messy hair falling into his face has you incredibly turned on.

"We've never talked about this before but are you on the pill, baby?", he asks, pushing one of his thumbs into his mouth before he brings it down to your clit and starts rubbing soft circles into it, making you arch your back off of the mattress as you bury your face in the pillow to keep your noises down.

"N-No", you whisper, a deep sigh coming from Kyoutani and even though you know you shouldn’t do it, you stop him from bending over to the drawer of his nightstand, making him look at you in confusion.

“But I still want you to raw me, please...", you add and gulp harshly when his whole body seems to go into some kind of haze once the words leaveyour lips.

Kyoutani looks at you, his eyes darkening even more as he pulls his bottom lip between his teeth and lets out a loud moan of your name.

"I can't just raw you, baby", he presses through gritted teeth, his mask slowly falling apart the more you rub yourself against his cock, "you've never had sex without a condom and my pull out game is weak, even weaker when it comes to you because fuck – the thought of filling you up with my cum sounds so fucking good", Kyou groans when you scoot up a little, taking his length into your hand before you line him up with your entrance.

"B-But what if you get pregnant, sweet girl?", he sighs and tries to pull away, making you wrap your arms around his neck as you look into his pretty eyes.

"That will just show everyone around us how well you've fucked me", you whisper and elicit another deep moan from him, his whole body shaking slightly as he tries to hold himself back from just pounding into you.

"Such a cockhungry whore", he hisses and – finally – starts pushing his fat cock into your tiny cunt, the slight stretch making you both gasp for air.

“If that's what you want, then that’s what you get, you little slut. I'm going to fucking raw you and fill you up with all of my cum, make you my cumslut", Kyoutani grunts, pulling your bottom lip between his teeth before he harshly grabs your face and looks into your eyes as he buries more of himself inside of you.

"F-Fuck, you're big", you whimper, throwing your head back and trying your very best to stop clenching around his cock.

“We're almost there, baby- you got this, s-stop clenching", Kyoutani grunts against your parted lips. Without a warning, Kyoutani pushes the rest of his huge cock inside of you, bottoming out completely.

“F-Fuck...you’re so– tight”, Kentarou grunts, his fingers digging into the flesh of your hips as he buries his face in the crook of your neck, “it’s like you’ve never been fucked before.”

“S-So good...so fucking good, nngh-”, your little whimpers and whines are slurred, barely coherent as the feeling of being filled to the brim pushes you into a haze of pleasure.

You feel the pulsation of his cock against your spongy walls, his hands nervously roaming your body and groping one of your tits, as he obviously tries to calm himself down.

And then he finally starts moving.

A deep, guttural moan leaves the both of you when he pulls himself out of your tight hole, dragging his huge cock along the walls of your little cunt in the most delicious way possible before he almost brutally shoves himself back in again.

“Mhm, just like that, you little brat”, he grunts, sitting up on his knees as he pushes your legs further apart, his eyes focusing the way his fat cock stretches your hole just how he’s been imagining it all this time, “coming up to me and talking about having your little cunt rawed like some cumhungry little whore.”

You start nodding almost instantly at his words, your brain barely recognizing them, the only thing you can focus on being the way the tip of his cock grazes the entrance to your womb with every harsh, brutal thrust of his hips.

His thrusts find a steady rhythm, hard and so, so deep.

“Open your mouth”, Kyoutani grunts, a single drop of sweat finding its way down the center of his tattooed chest, the sight making you whimper and whine for him even louder as you part your lips as soon as you process his words.

“You know what? I’d rather have you say it”, he suddenly hisses, pulling his cock out of your spasming cunt before he presses your legs together and shoves himself back inside of you with one skilled thrust of his hips.

You have no idea at what point you start crying but by the time Kyoutani's moans and grunts start picking up their pace, you're a sobbing mess.

“S-Say wh-what?”, you sob, hiding your tear and spit stained face behind your hands, not daring to look up at him.

“I want you to ask for my spit and beg for my cum”, Kentarou’s voice grows raspier, the dominance seething through every single one of his words makes it so easy for you to fall even further into the hole of absolute submission, “and stop hiding yourself, angel girl..I wanna watch the way I’m fucking your brains out.”

A row of loud, high pitched whines and a combination of sobs and moans are the only thing you manage to respond with, your brain clouded with the feeling of his thick cock dragging along the spongy walls of your cunt.

And before you can even comprehend his next movement, you hear the loud sound of skin meeting skin followed by the delicious feeling of a sting sending jolts of pain through your body, something you’ve come to love after so many hours with the tattoo artist.

“I told you to ask and beg for it, angel girl..you’re making me wait”, Kentarou spits, never once halting the movements of his hips as he watches the way you start sobbing even more, your cunt spasming around his cock after his painful spank.

“Please...f-fuck, please spit in my mouth and my face and on my cunt- want it all”, you start brabbling, another row of incohrent begs following right afterwars as your hips sloppily meet his harsh thrusts, “I want you to stuff me full of your cum, too- please, Daddy, wanna be your little c-cumdumpster.”

“There you go..”, Kyoutani’s plump lips stretch into a big smile as his cock throbs at the sound of that one forbidden little word he’s come to love even more after hearing it from you only a handful of times.

He didn’t hesitate to tell you about how much it turns him on around two weeks after the two fo you had started dating and even though he never really expected you to use it, he was secretely hoping for you to overcome your shyness.

You had used it only twice before when the pleasure had gotten too much for your brain to handle and Kyoutani knew you’d stop holding yourself back as soon as you got a taste of his cock.

“What did you just call me, pretty girl?”, he cooes, giggling softly at the way you whimper and cry even harder, knowing oh so well what he wants to hear.

And for the first time you just can’t get yourself to argue with the little voice in the back of your head; the feeling of his cock stretching your tiny cunt making it so, so easy to just let go of all those doubts and worries.

“Please, Daddy”, you reply and look into his eyes, groping your own tits as you arch your back to feel him even deeper inside of you, “n-need your cum inside of me...please- want everyone to know who I belong to.”

You don’t really expect it, yet your pussy almost instantly start clenching around his cock when kyoutani harshly grabs your face, making you part your lips before he spits into your mouth.

The loud, lewd sound of it rings in your ears in the best way possible and acting like a literal aphrodisiac in combination with the delicious taste of his saliva coating the hot muscle of your tongue.

You hum softly before you swallow it all, a gentle sob escaing your lips before you look up at him again.

"Now go on, angel girl”, he growls, pushing his hand in between your legs to rub circles into your hardened clit, “I want you to cum for me. Be a good little dumpster for your Daddy and show me what only I can do to you.”

You can barely process his words, the lewdness just fueling the fire in the pit of your stomach as you lose yourself in the feeling of your upcoming high. But you still start nodding, cringing at the feeling your saliva dripping down your jawline.

And with one last thrust, you feel your high crashing down onto you with such heaviness, you're left absolutely breathless.

Your whole body is trembling as the waves of your orgasm hit you, a row of incoherent words leaving your lips before you stop trying and just start crying for your precious Daddy.

"That's my baby”, is the first thing your brain manages to process again, everything still a blurry mess and when you look at Kyou, you realize you’re still cumming.

Your cunt is almost painfully spasming around his big cock, your juices dripping down the sides of his length as he helps you ride out your orgasm.

“You’re such a good, good girl for Daddy, aren’t you? I'm so proud of you", Kyoutani praises you, his thrust a little sloppier than before and from the way he's digging his fingers into the skin of your waist, you can only assume that he's also quiet close, "you're also going to take all of Daddy’s cum, right, baby? We gotta make sure I fill you up nicely..."

You take a deep breath, your slightly overstimulated cunt sending shivers down your spine as your eyes focus on Kyoutani's parted lips.

"Please, Daddy...need you to fill me up with your cum", you encourage him and when you slowly push two of your fingers into his mouth, knowing how much he loves to suck on them no matter what situation you’re both in, you finally get to see his whole face crunch up in pleasure.

His body tenses up as his grip on your waist becomes firmer before he starts cumming inside of you with a deep, raspy moan; coating the walls in several shades of white with three thick spurts of his cum.

Kyoutani buries his face in the crook of your neck as he slowly calms down, loud breathing and rushed gasps for air the only thing to fill the inside of his empty room.

"I love you so much", he whispers and gives you a soft kiss, his cock still firmly buried inside of your sensitive cunt before he shoots you a soft smile; looking almost boyish with his glossy eyes and flushed cheeks.

"I love you, too, D-Daddy”, you whisper, gulping harshly as the words leave your lips, feeling yourself grow even smaller underneath his strong yet comforting gaze, “thank you for giving us a chance", you add and pull him into for another kiss.

"Kyoutani Kentarou, your favorite group of walking disappointments is back and better than ev - oh", Iwaizumi Hajime, Kyoutani's High School best friend, fellow tattoo aritst and roommate suddenly yells and almost brutally slams open the door, startling you to the last bone in your body.

Kyoutani is quick to cover you up with his body, his hand reaching for one of the blankets on the floor as he grunts in annoyance.

"I'm so sorry, I didn't know–", "What is it, Iwa-Chan? Is he jerking off again? Kyoutani Kentarou you little piece of shit, just go and fuck that–", just like Iwaizumi, Oikawa – who also happens to be his best friend, felow tattoo artist and roommate – comes to stand in the doorway, bumping into his best friend before he finally spots the two of you.

"You're naked", he points out, closing his eyes almost instantly after realizing what he has just come to witness and despite the disgusting feeling of wanting to disappear and never come back again, you can't help but giggle at their shocked and slightly disgusted faces.

Kyoutani takes a deep breath and pulls out of you, still making sure to hide you behind his body before he hands you the blanket and lets his eyes shift to the door, looking at his best friends in pure disbelief.

"Kawa stop fucking staring and – can you two please fuck off?", he yells, pulling the boys back to reality and the way both of them shift to look at you only to blush from their necks to their ears has you chuckling softly.

This type of situation is nothing you’re not used to – unfortunately.

"Uhm – of course! Oh, my fucking God! So sorry, Kyou", Iwaizumi stutters and wraps his fingers around the doorknob, avoiding your eyes as much as he can before he pushes Oikawa away and then closes the door with another row of apologies.

Kyoutani just looks at you apologetically as he shakes his head and face palms himself, making the both of you burst into loud laughter.

And after taking a shower together and actually eating some late dinner with the boys, you fall asleep with Kyoutani's arms tightly wrapped around your waist, his face buried inside the crook of your neck and one last love confession.

And when those sweet words fall past his lips yet again, you realize – you're finally home.

[ banner source ]

#haikyuu smut #hq!! smut #kyoutani smut #kyoutani kentarou smut #hq smut #haikyuu!! smut #haikyuu x female reader #hq!! x female reader #kyoutani x female reader

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watchmegetobsessed · 3 years

Text

TO LOVE AND BE LOVED - Part One (Harry Styles)

a/n: oh my god i am sooo thankful for the love the masterlist got with just so little info about the story! it means so much to me and i really hope i won’t disappoint you with this story! i was planning to post the first part on tuesday but i got excited bc of all the feedback and reactions and decided to start earlier, so here it is, part one of TLABL, a story im kind of proud of and very happy to share! please drop by my ask box or leave your thoughts on the story, i would love to hear everything from you guys!

pairing: CEO!Dad!Harry X Reader

warning: mentions of death, cheating and divorce

word count: 11.2k

SERIES MASTERPOST masterlist

“I hope you realize this holds nothing against you, we all love and appreciate you and your work, but we had to face some unexpected problems this past year.”

You sit in front of Claire, your boss completely dumbfounded, not even comprehending what she is saying completely. You came to work this morning absolutely oblivious that today is going to be your last day of work at the daycare you’ve been working at for over two years now.

“I’m sorry, but last time you let us in on the budget you didn’t bring up any complication that might have indicated someone could lose their job, so what possible problem could have come up so abruptly?” you ask with a shocked and nervous chuckle. Part of you kind of hopes this is just some stupid joke she is playing on you, but Claire is not one to make games out of such serious things. Letting out a tired sigh she pushes her reading glasses up to the top of her head into her carefully curled hair.

“Look, I’m really trying not to make a big deal out of it, but we had to make some cuts on the budget. The kitchen and gymnasium renovation was completely unplanned and it kicked us in the butt. We are making some changes about the groups this year and it was made that it can be solved with one less person on the team. I’m sorry it had to be you, but the decision had to be made.”

“But why me?” you press. “There are two people who have been working for a shorter period of time here, didn’t I earn your trust during my time here?”

“It’s not about that, Y/N,” Claire shakes her head.

“Then what is this about?”

“If you are so keen on knowing, we’ve… received a few… complaints.” Your eyebrows shoot up to your hairline, this is the first time you’re hearing about it.

“Complaints?”

“Yes. Some parents are not quite the fan of the kind of mentality you are using while teaching the kids.”

“What are you talking about?” you ask, feeling all the blood rushing out of your face. This is starting to get way too nasty. Claire pinches the bridge of her nose before leaning onto her desk, clasping her hands together.

“I know that you are quite the free spirit and want to teach the kids about openness and acceptance, but not everyone is as rainbow as you are. Some kids brought the word home about what kind of books you’ve been reading and we’ve gotten a few concerns about you basically promoting the LGBTQ community for the kids.”

“I’m not promoting, I’m trying to teach them to accept everyone just the way they are, how can that upset anyone?!”

“Well, it does. The committee had to make a decision on who we should let go and many agreed that it might be the safest decision to make it be… you.”

You’re about to faint. You are sure you are about to fall off this chair and just black out. How can someone get mad about you reading stories about acceptance and treating everyone equally? What kind of monster can see it as a bad thing? And now you are losing your job over such a stupid thing that you don’t even feel responsible for.

Though you’d love to stay and try to convince Claire to not let you go, you know the decision has been made and if you’re being honest, you don’t feel comfortable anymore working at a place where parents tell you off for teaching important values for their kids. Sadly, but you sign all paperwork about your immediate parting and you leave Claire’s office to pack your stuff.

“Miss Y/N! Miss Y/N!” Izzy, one of the sweetest girls in your group basically launches herself at you, smashing against your legs as she hugs you happily. “Do you want to see what I just painted?” She blinks up at you with her gorgeous green eyes and your heart breaks that you won’t get to see her again.

“Oh, Sweetie. I have to—you know what? Sure. Show me your painting,” you smile at her warmly. You can’t say no to her, not when this is the last time you get to see her.

As you’re cleaning out your locker in the break room, Heather walks in and stops in her tracks, seeing you with your gloomy face as you pack everything into a cardboard box.

“What the hell are you doing?” she questions right away. The two of you have known each other for years now, you did the same master’s programme and somehow ended up working here together, carrying on the friendship you’ve formed through your school years.

“I was… fired,” you sigh, wincing at the words.

“What?! Why?”

“Apparently, we are having some budget problems with all the renovations that was made recently and unbeknownst to me, some parents have been complaining about my openness with kids so I was the lucky one to part ways with.”

“That’s fucking bullshit! The kids adore you, how can someone complain about something like that?”

“Don’t know, ask them if you ever find out who they are,” you mumble under your breath as you shut the now empty locker closed. “I’m sorry we can’t carpool anymore,” you pout at her.

“No fucks given about that, what are you gonna do now?” she asks, seemingly very bummed at the news that you won’t be working at the same place now.

“I don’t know,” you shrug. “I guess I’ll have to find something new if I don’t want to end up on the streets,” you mumble.

“Oh girl, I’m so sorry,” Heather sighs pulling you into a hug. “Why don’t we go out for drinks on Friday? Everything is on me!”

“Don’t act like I’m already broke, makes me feel like a loser.”

“Sorry,” she scowls. “Just want to brighten you up a little. Meet me at seven at that Mexican place, how does that sound?”

“Stuffing my face with nachos and tequila? Sounds like the best plan I could wish for.”

You waste no time arriving home after your worst day at work. You jump right into the job ads, looking for basically anything that might help you out of this impossible situation. Sending your resume to as many places as possible, you get a few callbacks the next few days, but you only make it to one interview on Friday and that doesn’t go well either. The man who calls in for an open position at a private kindergarten turns out to be a total snob and he doesn’t find your free spirit too fitting with the profile of his institution so you get rejected at the end of the interview.

You head out to meet Heather feeling like shit. You’ve been unemployed for four days, but it’s already breaking your spirits.

“You know what? Clair is a bitch for giving in to the complaints,” Heather slams her fourth shot glass on the table with a grimace. “She should have defended you!”

“I’m sure she just didn’t want to get into any disagreement. Some of the parents donate great amounts to the school and Claire would never risk losing that money,” you sigh rolling your eyes.

“Okay, but she is being very… not inclusive,” she narrows her eyes. “Firing someone for teaching the kids openness? Bullshit.”

“I’m just sad I don’t get to see the kids anymore. They really grew close to my heart.”

“The little fuckers can be so damn cute, almost make me want to have one.” Heather sighs, downing another shot before pulling the nachos closer to her. You laugh at her vulgar reaction, she has always had quite a dirty mouth but somehow she controls herself well around the kids. “How has the job hunting been?”

“Horrible,” you growl in frustration. There are not many that offer a good paycheck and the few that does are these posh places that expect you to treat the kids like they are made out of gold which is ridiculous. That’s not how you raise a kid!”

“I’m sorry, I’m sure something will come up soon. Why don’t you look into nanny jobs, have you thought about that?”

“What do you mean?” you furrow your eyebrows, popping some chips into your mouth.

“A lot of people prefer having nannies for their little children, some even want them to move in. My brother’s ex-girlfriend was a live-in nanny for about two years and she earned a shit ton of money, because she didn’t have to pay rent and a good chunk of the food, because the parents just treated her like part of the family and bought groceries for five people instead of four.”

“I’m not sure I’m cut out for that kind of stuff.”

“What, earning money?” Heather scoffs.

“No, living with a stranger.”

“Most of the time the nanny gets like a separated place so it wouldn’t be that bad, but you know what’s good for you. It was just an idea,” she shrugs.

Soon enough you drop any work talk not wanting to ruin the mood. You enjoy some time away from the stress of job hunting and you’re just trying to have fun with your best friend. You start talking about nostalgic memories from college and end up looking up people you graduated with on social media, checking out what they’ve been up to in the past years.

“Alright, I’m gonna go to the restroom quickly, watch out for my drink,” you announce pushing your drink closer to Heather as you head towards the restrooms.

There’s a bit of a line so you stand behind two girls chatting about some cute guy they just met and leaning against the wall you close your eyes for a moment, feeling the drinks hitting you in the head. You’re not used to drinking, haven’t really had the time to get drunk too much lately and it’s saddening to think that now that you’re unemployed, you could black out every day, you wouldn’t have anywhere to show up in the morning.

Getting deep in your thoughts you almost don’t even notice that your phone is buzzing in your pocket. When you finally realize you pull it out of your back pocket and look down at the unknown number with a scowl. You quickly leave your spot in the line and rush out to hear something as you answer the call.

“Hello?”

“Hi, I hope I’m not calling at an inconvenient time, I’m Harry Styles and I’m looking to talk to Y/N Y/L/N?” you hear a thick British accent on the other end of the line.

“This is her.”

“Great. Sorry for the late call, I’m Isabelle’s father.”

“Isabelle?” you ask in confusion, the names not really clicking in your head thanks to the shots you’ve been taking.

“Isabelle Styles? Izzy?”

“Oh! Yes! Sorry, yeah. Mr. Styles, what can I help you with?” you ask, not sure why Izzy’s dad would be calling you.

“Well I just recently learned from my daughter that you’re not working at the daycare any longer?” “Uh, yeah. Unfortunately I was fired this Monday…” you awkwardly answer.

“I’m sorry about that. Izzy has been really sad about it, I wanted to ask if you’ve found a new job already?”

“Not yet, I’ve been looking but I haven’t had much luck yet,” you confess.

“In that case I have an offer to make,” he firmly continues and you perk up at his words. “I’ve been thinking about pulling Izzy out of daycare, but I didn’t want to do it until I found someone to take good care of her. You’ve been her absolute favorite and she’s been devastated since you’ve been gone. If you’re up for a job of this kind, I would like to offer you a spot as Izzy’s nanny.”

“Oh!” is all you react, completely not expecting this call.

“I know there are a lot to discuss, but if you’re interested, I would be more than happy to have a chat with you sometime this weekend? To go over the details and see if we can make it work.”

“I, uh… Um, yeah. We can meet, that sounds good. When would it be good for you?”

“How about tomorrow afternoon?”

“That can work.”

“Amazing!” he beams. “I’ll send you the address through text if that’s alright for you.”

“Yeah, of course. When should I be there?”

“Would three o’clock suit you?”

“Absolutely,” you nod, stunned at the turn of events.

“Great, thank you so much, and once again, sorry to bother you on your Friday evening. Looking forward to see you tomorrow!”

“Thank you, Mr. Styles, see you soon!”

You get back in line at the bathroom and then make your way back to the table where Heather gives you a puzzled look.

“Did you take a massive shit or something?” she jokes as you take your seat and stare back at her, still in shock.

“No, I had a very interesting call, actually.”

“With who?”

“Um, Izzy Styles’ dad just called and offered me a job as her nanny.”

Heather almost chokes on her drink, coughing at the news. You hand her a napkin as she dries her chin off from her cocktail.

“Harry Styles wants you to be the nanny of his daughter?” she gasps.

“You know Izzy’s dad?”

“Y/N, everyone knows him! He is the sexiest man to walk this planet and not to mention that he is like stupidly rich! Have you not seen him yet?”

“Not really,” you shrug. “Izzy was picked up by an old woman most of the times, I guess I never worked when her dad came for her.”

“That explains why you’re not squirming already,” she scoffs. “That man is like… crazy hot, I’m telling you. I bumped into him one morning when I guess he was dropping Izzy off, the way he said ‘Pardon me, Darling’ made my knees shake,” she tells you, faking an accent that’s nowhere near what Mr. Styles sounded like on the phone.

“Well, I guess I’ll see him for myself. I’m meeting him tomorrow to discuss details,” you shrug and Heather slams her hand on the table.

“Oh my God! You’re gonna work for Harry Fucking Styles! Get ready because your panties will be soaking wet all the time,” she laughs like a hyena.

“Heather, stop!” you shake your head laughing too.

Following Mr. Styles’ call you decide to cut the night shorter than you intended, not wanting to look absolutely wasted when you meet him. Arriving home to your small, one bedroom apartment you take a quick shower before climbing to bed, staring up at the ceiling, trying to collect your thoughts. You told Heather you’re not willing to do the whole live-in nanny thing and Mr. Styles might not even want you to live with them, but now that the option is there, you realize it might not be the worst case scenario. Especially since you’re not really swimming in other job offers and you are in desperate need of anything at this point.

Despite having consumed quite some alcohol the previous night, you wake up at a reasonable hour in the morning, finding a text from Mr. Styles about the address you’d have to be going in the afternoon. You make a quick trip to the grocery store and do some chores before you start getting ready for the meeting. You opt for a simple black dress that reaches your knees and pair it with a little funkier, flower printed blazer to bring some color into the outfit.

Punching the address into the GPS you see that it’s taking you to the outer skirt of the city to the neighborhood that’s known to have some quite luxurious estates and you immediately think back to what Heather said about him being ridiculously rich. Driving down the streets in your old Volkswagen you couldn’t stand out more at a place where at least three cars park on the driveways and one of them is a Ferrari or a Porsche.

There’s a massive security gate under the address that’s your destination and it’s left open so you can pull up to the driveway easily. You park next to a fucking Tesla, finding it extremely funny to see your car next to it, but it is what it is. Walking up to the front door you ring the bell as you take a look at the house that can easily considered to be a mansion. Guessing from the outside there are at least about five bedrooms in it and you can only imagine what other luxurious units are squeezed into it.

Soon enough the front door opens and you find yourself staring back at a breathtakingly gorgeous man, wearing a white dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up and black suit pants, his chocolate curls falling to his forehead as his emerald eyes fall on you, a warm smile tugging on his lips.

Shit. Heather was fucking right, you think to yourself swallowing hard.

“Miss Y/L/N, it’s so nice to see you. I’m Harry, Izzy’s dad, come on in!” he invites you inside before a short handshake.

“Nice to meet you too, Mr. Styles.”

“Please, just call me Harry. I don’t like formalities at home,” he asks you as the two of you walk further inside until you arrive to what looks like a living room, but it’s actually the size of your apartment.

“Only if you call me Y/N,” you smile at him and he nods right away.

“Miss Y/N!” you hear a small voice call out and turning around you see Izzy running down the hallway until she throws herself against your legs.

“Oh, hello Sunshine!” you hum, squatting down so you can hug her.

“I missed you!” she pouts, rubbing her eyes.

“I missed you too,” you smile at her, caressing her soft cheeks before standing up. An older lady walks in, the one you’ve seen picking up Izzy. She approaches you with a friendly smile as she extends a hand towards you.

“Hi, I’m Ruth, it’s nice to meet you.” “Y/N, nice to meet you too.”

“Ruth, would you take Izzy outside while I talk to Miss—erm, Y/N here?” Harry requests. Ruth nods and taking Izzy’s hand she lures her outside to look for ladybugs in the backyard and that immediately catches her attention. The two of them leave through the sliding door, giving you and Harry privacy.

“Please, have a seat,” he gestures towards the sectional couch. “Would you like something to drink?”

“I’m good, thank you,” you smile at him as he sits in an armchair across you.

The interior of the house is quite cozy, kind of modern with a hint of vintage touches that make it less rigid, a pop of color showing at most corners so it’s not too monochrome. You quite like it.

“Y/N, I once again apologize for calling you at such an inappropriate hour, but I often work late and I wanted to get in touch with you as soon as possible upon hearing the news.”

“Don’t worry about it, I understand.”

“Isabelle mentioned it to me on Thursday that the other workers told her you no longer work at the daycare so I asked around a little yesterday and was informed that they let you go earlier in the week.”

“It was quite sudden for me as well,” you chuckle lightly, feeling a little anxious to talk about it.

“I know it’s not too appropriate, but I asked why they chose you to part ways with and I have to say it’s outraging that some parents are so ignorant and wayward. I’m really sorry this had to be the reason out of everything.”

“Thank you.” It actually feels nice that he thinks the same, this whole firing was ridiculous and you were losing hope in humanity, but Harry is now very much restoring it.

“Let me walk you through what the situation is here and what I was thinking about.” You nod and listen carefully. “I’m president of a record label and it consumes most of my time, I sometimes work sixty hours a week which I know is not ideal and healthy and I’m trying to change it, but it’s not an easy situation. I thought that putting Izzy into daycare was a good idea, but it’s been getting harder to work around her schedule as a single parent with so much work on my hands. Ruth is a family friend who has been helping tremendously with Izzy, but she is not getting any younger and she would like to retire fully and spend more time with her own grandkids. So I’ve been thinking about hiring a nanny for Izzy and try to make her days work around mine while I’m able to do that. She is going to start preschool in little over a year and I want to spend as much time with her as possible, but it’s not easy when the schedule depends on an institution. When she told me about your firing I had the thought that you might be interested in taking the spot as her nanny. She is obsessed with you, wouldn’t stop talking about what you do every day, and I might have also looked into your professional background. I like what I’ve seen and I’m very much into the way you’ve been dealing with the kids at the daycare. Openness is really important and I want Izzy to grow up in an environment that teaches her about being equal and supportive towards each other. I would be more than happy if you’d be the one taking care of Izzy while I’m not available.”

To say the east you’re stunned at how forward and open he was about the offer and his compliment about your professional background is quite flattering. You can tell he is doing an amazing job at raising Izzy as an open and accepting human, she was always one of the nicest and sweetest kids who always made sure to include all her peers in the games you played. And it’s obvious Harry is not just being a hypocrite, his tattooed arm, painted nails and ring clad fingers are not quite what you’d traditionally imagine a man like him wear, but he does it well and clearly doesn’t give a fuck what others might think about it.

Harry continues with how much he thought you’d be earning for the job and you almost choke on your own saliva. It’s almost three times as much as you’ve been earning at the daycare and you’d be able to save a good chunk every month which is quite amazing.

“I have to ask, were you thinking about a situation where I live with you or I’d have to be coming here every day?”

“Well, essentially it would be the easiest for everyone if you moved in. I have plenty of rooms you could choose from and you’d have access to everything else as well, of course, including the home gym, the pool, the sauna and the entertainment room. But I understand if you are not willing to make that commitment. If you choose to live here you wouldn’t be charged anything, naturally.”

This actually sounds like a dream, moving into this luxury mansion from your cramped little apartment and being able to save the money you’ve been paying on rent.

“And what would be the time management? If I moved in it would easily make me fall into a habit of always working, which is not quite ideal,” you point it out.

“Of course,” he nods. “I like to take care of her morning routine so you’d have to start around nine when I leave to the office. If we can make this deal working I’d like her to start taking some extra classes during the day, moving her activities earlier in the day so her afternoons would be free. She takes piano lessons on Mondays and Wednesdays, a swimming instructor comes here on Thursdays and she is taking French lessons every Tuesday and Friday. Everything takes place here, I would reschedule her activities to take place between nine and twelve. You wouldn’t have to worry about her during those times. You’d cover lunch time and then the afternoons. I try to get home between four and six and just work from home if it’s possible so I can be around her. You’d have to only help out whenever I can’t make it home in time I have urgent works that have to be done from home. We could have dinner time together and then her night time routine is my duty again. Ruth is willing to help me out on Saturdays and I spend Sundays with her strictly without any work distraction so you’d have the weekends off unless something comes up. In those cases I would check in with you beforehand and arrange it however it works best for you.”

You’re speechless for a moment. What he just shared doesn’t seem too bad, you might have to work a lot more, but being one on one with just one kid is much easier than dealing with fifteen of them at once. Not to mention that the money is still amazing compared to what you’d have to be doing.

“I’m gonna be honest with you, it’s an amazing offer. Izzy is such a sweet girl, I would be more than happy to take care of her.”

Harry smiles at you warmly, clearly proud of his daughter, as he should be.

“Can I ask for some time to think about it? It would be a huge commitment.” “Of course. Take your time and let me know whatever your decision is.”

“Thank you.”

Harry offers a quick tour in the house regardless, the kitchen is massive, they have a nice dining area with floor-to-ceiling windows looking out to the green slopes of the backyard that seems to be Izzy’s kingdom. She has a playhouse that could almost function as a real one, the pool is filled with floaties for her and she has her own playground further in the back with slides, monkey bars and a swing set. Your assumptions were almost right about the number of bedrooms. Beside Harry’s master and Izzy’s own room there’s one that’s been used by Ruth, one that’s for Harry’s mother and sister for whenever they are staying over and there are three additional rooms now serving as guest bedrooms, one of those would be turned into your room if you chose to move in. The gym seems better than the one you’ve been going whenever you felt like being a little active, the entertainment room has everything you could ever think about for a room this sort of and the sauna is already calling your name. Living and working here might actually feel like a vacation.

“Miss Y/N! Look what I found!” Izzy runs up to you when you and Harry step out to the backyard, holding her pointing finger up. A ladybug is wandering around her tiny finger, not even bothering with the amazed girl that’s inspecting it.

“Wow! How many dots do you see on it?” you ask and she knits her eyebrows together, counting the black dots.

“Five!”

“Yes, good job!” you ruffle her curls as she smiles up at you proudly. She really is an angel, you’ve grown to like her a lot and you would be lying if you said you didn’t get emotional over thinking about never seeing her again. Being able to take care of her and give her the best possible childhood would be such a dream and the chance to do that is right in front of you.

“I’ll be waiting for your call, Y/N,” Harry smiles at you walking you towards the front door.

“Harry, I don’t think you need to do that,” you speak up and see his face fall, he obviously took it the wrong way, thinking that you want to say no to his offer.

“Oh…”

“It’s not that,” you chuckle softly. “I would love to take the job. And if you’re still okay with that, I’d like to move in, it would make everything just so much easier.”

You watch as his expression changes from disappointed to hopeful as he cracks a smile nodding.

“Yeah, the offer is still there. When do you think you can start?”

“How soon do you want to pull Izzy out of daycare?”

“As soon as possible. If I have to I can go in on Monday and do all the paperwork. You could move in sometime during the week maybe?”

“I have to talk to my landlord about my lease, but I’m fine with moving in during the week,” you nod smiling and you can’t help but feel excited.

“That would be wonderful. Thank you so much. I’m looking forward to working with you.”

You discuss a few more details and then you head out, thinking about how the next time you’ll be coming here, you’ll be moving in.

“If this one doesn’t go to the donate box, I’m leaving right now.”

Heather holds up a pair of denim shorts, painted in the colors of the flag of the States. She holds it pinched between her index finger and thumb as if it was something nasty and disgusting

“You know I only bought that for that stupid frat party. I never wore that anywhere else, so you can put it into the donate box.”

“Thank God!” she groans and throws the shorts into said box.

It’s Sunday evening and your place looks like a warzone, boxes taking up the place everywhere as you’re packing your life up to officially move into the Styles mansion. You agreed with Harry to bring over a good chunk of your stuff on Monday and then settle in for real on Tuesday. He is pulling Izzy out of daycare first thing on Monday and you’d stay at home with her for the first time on Wednesday. It’s been a fast paced change, but you couldn’t care less. With the amount Harry is gonna pay you, you’ll be able to save up a good chunk every month, like you always wanted to.

As you finish putting your books away you reach the shelves that contain all your photo albums. Photography has been your passion for a long time. It started as a simple hobby sometime through your freshman year in high school, but in senior year, your photos filled the yearbook and you even did the design of it too. You’ve had a few gigs since then, some weddings and pregnancy shoots and you like to sell your photos individually as well. You wouldn’t have imagined how much a simple nature photo costs.

Flipping through the one on the top, you can’t help the bitter smile on your face as you see the photos from your brother’s 14th birthday three years ago. There are tons of family pictures with you, your brother Trevor and your parents, seemingly being all happy and joyful. Things were different back then and you didn’t see anything coming.

It’s past midnight by the time you more or less finish packing, you’ve filled three big boxes with things to donate so you have significantly less stuff to move to the Styles mansion in the morning. Heather spends the night, but leaves early in the morning since she needs to go to work. The moving van you rented out arrives a little after eleven and the two guys from the moving company helps you load it with about two thirds of your stuff. Harry is at work when you arrive and Izzy is still at the daycare, Ruth is the only one at home, she helps you out even though you tell her not to break a sweat over it.

“Let me help, makes me feel needed,” she chuckles sweetly when you try to get her to stop, but she insists on bringing in some smaller bags and boxes.

You’re still unpacking when Ruth arrives back with Izzy a little after four. You hear her little feet tapping against the floor as she runs down the hallway, bursting into your future room.

“Miss Y/N! You’re here!” she cheers, throwing herself into your arms as you sit on the floor, being the perfect level for the little girl.

“I am! How was your day, little Sunshine?”

“We finger painted and I made a painting for daddy, do you want to see it?”

“Of course!”

Izzy disappears to get her backpack from Ruth who is making her some snacks in the kitchen. She soon returns with her painting, presenting it to you proudly.

“Look! This is me and this is daddy!” she points at the two human-like figures, the only thing giving away who is who is that one of them is bigger than the other one. “And then this is mommy!” she then adds, pointing at a star in the upper corner of the painting and you freeze.

In the midst of everything, you didn’t even have the time to question why Harry is a single parent. To be honest your first guess would have been divorce, but Izzy’s painting is telling you something a lot more tragic.

“It’s beautiful,” you smile at her, trying to hide your surprise at the new information. “I’m sure he’ll love it.”

Ruth makes sure Izzy is busy while you finish up unpacking and when you’re about to be done, Harry arrives home. Approaching your room even though the door is open he knocks on the doorframe, catching your attention.

“Hello, just wanted to see how things are going. Do you need help with anything? I’m sorry I couldn’t be here to help with the boxes and all…”

“Hi! Oh don’t worry about that, I had plenty of help,” you shrug smiling. “Everything is going fine, thank you.”

“Great. I did all the paperwork today, tomorrow is going to be Izzy’s last day at daycare. You’re still up to start on Wednesday, right?”

“Yeah, of course. I only have a few things left at home so I’ll be all set by tomorrow.”

“Thank you so much,” he smiles warmly. “And thank you for being so quick about everything. It means a lot to me that I can spend more time with Izzy thanks to you. I really appreciate it.”

“I should be thanking you the opportunity. I wasn’t really drowning in the job offers,” you chuckle making him smile as well. “Please let me know if you want me to change anything, I have a plan I would like to go around with Izzy’s days, but of course, your word is the most important.”

“I trust you to take good care of her during the day. The only thing I want is to have her home when I get home. Ruth couldn’t always pick her up before and I really hated to do the extra trip and pick her up from daycare instead of coming straight home to be with her.”

“Understandable. I’ll make sure to plan accordingly,” you nod smiling.

“Y/N, I want you to feel home as much as possible. This is your place just as much as it is ours now. Izzy and I go grocery shopping every Sunday, it’s kind of a father-daughter thing we do every week. We keep a list on the fridge, feel free to add whatever you need and we’ll get it.”

You can’t help the smile that stretches across your lips, because this is such a sweet thing to do, when Harry could easily afford someone to do the work for him. Yet he still uses this time to be with his daughter.

“Yeah, sure, thank you!”

“I’ll get out of your hair now. Would you like to stay for dinner?”

“Oh, no, but thank you. I still have some things to take care of before tomorrow.”

“Alright,” he nods before walking out. He leaves you thinking hard about him. You wonder what really happened to Izzy’s mom and if he is dating someone right now. A man like him is basically a dream to any woman, you doubt he is having a hard time finding a partner, but you haven’t seen any sign of another woman around the house. Guess you’ll have to wait and figure it out yourself.

The apartment is awfully empty on your last night here. When you moved in about a year ago you didn’t think you’d be moving into a mansion from here. You spend the evening cleaning out a bit so you leave the place in good condition. Your landlord was terribly nice about your early leave, you could easily agree that you’d pay for the two more weeks that’s left from the month and that would be all, no extra costs for moving out before your lease was up.

You’re cleaning off the kitchen counter when your phone starts ringing, it’s a video call from your brother.

“Hey there! What’s up?” you ask, propping up the phone on top of the microwave while you move around, doing your thing. Trevor seems to be lying in bed, a black hoodie covering his upper body.

“Hello, just wanted to see how the moving has gone today.”

Despite the ten year age gap between you and Trevor, your relationship couldn’t be better. Probably because you were old enough to see what a blessing a sibling really is when he was born.

“Everything went smoothly. I only have a few stuff to bring over, that can fit into my car tomorrow, so it’s fine.”

“Cool. How is the dude? What was his name again?”

“Harry. Harry Styles.” You see him pull his laptop to his lap and probably searches up Harry’s name before his eyes widen at the screen.

“This dude is big! He is the president of HES Records, they run some of the most popular singers these days.”

“Yeah? I was sure he is a big name judging from his mansion,” you chuckle.

“Have you looked him up yet?”

“Not really.” “Want me to read what’s here about him?”

“Sure,” you hum, continuing to clean while you listen to Trevor.

“Alright. Apparently he is thirty-one, took over the record company when he was just twenty-five because his father wanted to retire early. The number of talents working under the label has doubled since he has taken over and many of his clients have won Grammy Awards. Impressive,” he hums, scrolling down on whatever site he has just found. “He is known to be a private person, the last time he made an appearance… Oh shit…” Trevor breathes out and you turn to your phone with furrowed eyebrows.

“What?”

“Wow, this shit is heavy. It says the last time he made a public appearance was in 2017, not long before his wife was killed in a car accident.”

You freeze, feeling your stomach drop to the floor, immediately thinking back at Izzy’s painting of her family. It very much makes sense why she said the star was her mother, it must be the way Harry explained to her what happened to her mother.

“It happened in 2018, she wasn’t in the fault, a drunk driver ignored the red light and ran into her car at a crossroad. This is terrible, oh God.”

“Poor Izzy, she probably doesn’t even know what really happened.”

“Must have been hard on him, there’s not much about him since then.”

“Can’t blame him for not wanting to be in the spotlight after losing his wife.”

“Yeah.”

Trevor shows you a few pictures of him from years ago, he has always been handsome, but your favorites are the few from the times when he had long hair. He looked so different, like a whole other person, but still, he rocked it perfectly.

Then you show Trevor around in the empty apartment before loving to the couch, turning all your attention to him.

“How have things been?” you ask with a sigh. Trevor purses his lips and shrugs.

“Other than the constant screaming matches on the phone and endless fights every time dad comes over for more of his stuff? Everything is rainbows and butterflies.”

“Is it really that bad?” you scowl.

“It’s like they never run out of stuff to throw at each other, but I feel like this much couldn’t happen even in their twenty-eight years together,” he scoffs making you chuckle.

“I’m sorry you’re stuck in the middle of all that.”

“It’s like payback,” he hums and you give him a puzzled look. “You had it bad growing up for being the surprise baby, making them teen parents. Then I came at a reasonable time, they already knew the drill, but now that you’re out of the house I’m getting all the shit, having to deal with their divorce.”

“I’m really sorry, Trev,” you sigh, feeling guilty that he is all alone at home.

“It’s fine, I don’t blame you,” he shrugs. “But you could make it better if you asked your millionaire boss if I could hang out at his house sometimes.” He grins at you slyly and you roll your eyes. Of course he is already thinking about using you for his own good!

“I don’t want to push the boundaries just yet, but I’ll see what I can do.”

You talk a little more about school and what he’s been up to with his friends before ending the call. You take a shower and go to bed right away, feeling extremely worn out from all the packing you’ve done through the day.

The next day you pack the remainder of your stuff into your car and then your landlord comes over to do a checkup, though he fully trusts you took good care of the place.

“Again, thank you for your understanding, I didn’t plan to leave so early, but it just kinda came up,” you tell him, handing him over your keys.

“Don’t worry about it. I hope your new place will treat you right,” he smiles kindly at you.

You chat a little longer before you leave and head over to your new home. Once again, Ruth is the only one home and being the angel that she is, she helps you to carry your stuff up from the car before leaving to get Izzy from daycare. Since there’s not much left to unpack you finish quite fast, leaving you some extra time alone in the house. Walking around you try to learn your way around, still finding it a bit of a maze. You find Harry’s home office’s door open and after a bit of hesitation you step inside, just taking a look around. Yeah, it’s kind of a nosy thing to do, but you couldn’t help yourself.

His space is quite clear, he keeps his stuff neatly organized. Certificates and plaques are hung up on the wall, showing off his many successes in the business. There’s a huge bookcase near his desk and there you see some family photos… ones that include his late wife as well.

She was beautiful. There’s a picture of the three of them in the hospital from the day Izzy was born, Harry has an arm around his wife’s shoulders who is holding baby Izzy, both of them radiating happiness as they just become parents. Your heart breaks when you see the photo next to it, it’s just Harry and her in Paris, the Eiffel tower standing tall behind them as they are grinning widely at each other, foreheads touching. Harry has his arms wrapped around her slim figure while she is hugging his neck. They look so happy and in love, like they were always meant to be with each other. Knowing what tragedy hit them is just hard to process even for you, who never even met the woman.

You hear the front door open and Izzy is laughing at something, so you rush out before anyone could catch you snooping around.

“Hi Miss Y/N!” she chirps upon seeing you when you meet them in the living room.

“Izzy, you don’t have to call me Miss Y/N, Y/N is perfectly fine,” you smile at her, caressing her rosy cheeks.

“Okay. Ruth, can I please have some ice-cream?”

“I’m afraid we ran out of ice-cream, but I’ll put it on your grocery list,” Ruth tells her, a pout tugging on Izzy’s lips.

“How about this: I’m gonna make a delicious smoothie, that’s almost like melted ice-cream, would you like some?” you offer and her eyes brighten up immediately, nodding right away.

While Ruth puts away Izzy’s things they brought home from daycare, while the two of you move to the kitchen to make the smoothie together. You find some frozen berries in the freezer and pair them with bananas, putting them all into the blender with oatmilk, blending it all together.

“How is it?” you ask Izzy, who is sitting on top of the counter, tasting the pink smoothie that leaves a cute little mustache above her cherry lips.

“I like it!” she smiles, scrunching her nose.

“We can make it some other time then,” you smile, drinking up your portion.

Izzy is dancing around the kitchen, babbling about her last day at daycare while you clean the glasses and the blender when Harry arrives. He is wearing a baby blue suit with a crispy dress shirt underneath, looking fashionable but still business appropriate at the same time.

“Daddy!” Izzy launches towards her daddy, who catches her, throwing her into the air before holding her in his arms, joining you in the kitchen.

“Hey baby. How was your day?”

“Good, all my friends hugged me but I told them we would meet in the park.”

“That’s right, and I have the number of all your friends’ parents, we can have playdates with them whenever you want to,” he smiles before his eyes meet yours. “Hi Y/N, everything went well with the rest of your moving?”

“Yeah, I’m all set,” you smile back at him.

“That’s great. I have a few calls to make, but I’ll be done in thirty probably. Would you mind looking out for Izzy in the meanwhile?”

“Of course. She promised me to take me around her room, so we could do that, what do you say?” you ask the little girl who nods in excitement.

Harry disappears in his office and Izzy pulls you to her room, showing you just about every toy she owns. Her room is a typical girl’s room, the walls are painted a light pink color, her bedframe resembles a castle and she has a dollhouse as big as your previous bathroom. Harry clearly spoils her rotten, but what you noticed is that she is not one of those annoying bratty only children who can’t take no. She was clearly taught how to behave and always listen to the adults.

While Izzy is putting her stuffed animals away after introducing you to all of them, you spot a photo frame near her bed, decorated with macaroni. You remember when you all did that together at daycare and now you get to see the photo that ended up behind the glass.

It’s a photo of Izzy and her mother, she was just a baby and doing quick math in your head you realize it must have been not long before her accident, might even be the last picture taken of the two of them. Her mom is smiling at the camera while Izzy is sleeping in her arms peacefully. Izzy looked a lot like her when she was a baby, the bridge of her nose and her lips resembled her mother’s, though now she appears to take more after her dad with her chocolate curls and piercing green eyes.

“That’s my mommy,” she tells you when she sees you looking at the photo.

“It’s a nice picture,” you smile at her, trying your best to hide how heartbroken you feel even just looking at the photo.

“Daddy said she had to go up to the sky, but she is watching me from there,” she explains, clearly not entirely sure what it means, but you can tell she misses her. “Daddy said she is living between the stars now and that she loves me very much.” You need to fight your tears back at her words.

“I’m sure of that too,” you breathe out smiling at her.

“Izzy, do you want to help me make dinner?” Harry walks in smiling, though it disappears for a moment when he sees the two of you looking at the photo of his wife, but he is quick to control himself.

“Yes! What are we making?” she runs over to him, jumping up and down.

“Uh, chicken and veggies.”

You step away from the photo, pretending like nothing just happened. You’re dying to discuss it with Harry, hear him talk about it, but you won’t push him. If he wants to share it, he’ll come to you.

“Alright, come on then,” he smiles down at her. “Thank you for watching her, I’ll take over from here. Food will be ready in about an hour, Ruth is staying with us as well,” he informs you.

“Great, I’ll… I’ll be in my room,” you nod.

The first two weeks on the job brush past smoothly. It takes you some time to get used to your new home, but taking care of Izzy doesn’t feel like work, so you’re feeling amazing in your new job. You easily fall into a schedule with her.

The mornings are always Harry’s duty. He wakes her up around seven-thirty, makes her breakfast and dresses her for the day before he leaves around nine. Thanks to this habit of his, you’re able to sleep in until eight, leaving you plenty of time to get ready for your day with Izzy before Harry has to leave. Depending on the weather, the two of you then either take over the back yard or move to her room for some play time before her class of the day starts in the noon. Piano with Rosaline on Mondays and Wednesdays, French lesson with Lyon on Tuesdays and Fridays and then Izzy’s favorite on Thursdays, swimming class with Kitty.

Izzy loves to help in the kitchen so you usually make lunch together. Once her tummy is full she takes a nap before you sit down to learn something new every day. You’ve been teaching her the numbers and the alphabet, or some days you just talk about anything that interests her and learn at least two things she hasn’t know yet, all through games so she doesn’t even realize what you’re doing. You’re usually done by around three, leaving you time to take a visit to the park, if Harry is not planning to take her himself later that day.

You’re strictly home by four, unless it’s Tuesday when she has her dance class until five. Those days you drive her to her class, run some quick errands and pick her up. Harry usually uses his extra time in the office on these days, but he is always home by six to have dinner together with his daughter.

Once Harry is home you’re off duty, though you like to stay close, not just in case something comes up for Harry, but because you genuinely like spending time with Izzy and Harry, seeing them interacting.

Harry sometimes has to work on Saturdays as well, but just as he promised Ruth is always here to take over duty on those days, leaving you free for the whole weekend. It’s been working perfectly for you and those very few concerns you had about moving in dissolve quite fast as soon as you start working.

Though it’s been pretty clear to you before, you now one hundred percent sure that Harry is living for his daughter. She is always a priority, he doesn’t hesitate to decline any work calls he gets in the evenings if Izzy needs him, if she is a little fussy and wants her daddy’s attention or when they are in the middle of a game. He is clearly trying to keep a balance between his work and role as a father and from what you’ve seen, it seems like he is doing an amazing job in that. However you haven’t learned much else about him. He is all friendly towards you, but makes sure to keep it business casual, not quite keen on getting to know each other better as just friends, maybe.

A Friday afternoon you’re having a little tea party in the backyard with Izzy when Harry arrives home, but this time, he is not alone. Through the sliding door you spot him with a blonde guy who is talking very articulately as Harry is typing on his phone. The man looks about Harry’s age, but you can’t tell if he is a friend or a business partner, but if Harry brought him home, he is more likely to be a friend of his.

“Uncle Niall!” Izzy gasps when he spots the man through the glass and abandoning the tea party, she starts running towards the door. The man spots her and slides the door open grinning widely before she jumps into his arms.

“Little bugger! How are ya?” the man laughs, holding Izzy in a tight hug before leaning back to take a good look at her. You notice his thick Irish accent and it suits his appearance quite well. You head inside as well, in case Harry needs Izzy busy for a little longer, though he doesn’t mind having her around, kissing the top of her head before finishing up whatever he was doing on his phone, watching Niall and Izzy smiling.

“I’m having a tea party with Y/N, wanna join?” Izzy invites the man, who then looks at you for the first time, smiling widely.

“Hi, I’m Y/N, Izzy’s new nanny,” you introduce yourself, holding out a hand that he shakes, keeping Izzy in his other arm without a problem.

“Nice to meet ya, I’m Niall.”

“Y/N, Niall is an old friend of mine. He is joining us for dinner, hope you don’t mind,” Harry informs you and you find it funny how he is kind of asking for your approval when it’s his house.

“Not at all.”

“Harry has told me he hired a pair of new hands to help, but he didn’t mention it’s a stunning young woman!” Niall beams, making you blush right away.

“Ni, I would appreciate it if you didn’t try to pick up my daughter’s new nanny,” Harry warns him lightly, though there’s some firmness in his tone, not that it scares Niall in any way, he even winks at you.

“Oh come on, you can’t expect me not to flirt when you surround yourself with so many pretty women! First Ruth and now Y/N!”

You smile at him, something is telling you he wasn’t joking and he tried to flirt with Ruth as well. Harry just rolls his eyes at his friend, taking Izzy from him.

“Keep it in your pants, Niall,” Harry tells him and though it’s nothing vulgar, it catches Izzy’s attention.

“What should he keep in his pants?” she questions, making your and Harry’s eyes grow big right away. Luckily, Niall keeps his cool and takes care of the situation.

“My attitude, Sweetie. Your daddy is just jealous because I’m more handsome than he is,” he smirks at the little girl, successfully avoiding an awkward conversation about what it is that Niall should keep in his pants.

You smile at his reply, even though you are not that sure about the comparison he just made between himself and Harry.

“Izzy, do you want to continue the tea party?” you ask her and even though just a minute ago she was inviting Niall to join her, now she shakes her head no. “Alright, I’ll pack it up then.”

“Oh, don’t worry about it. We’ll do it, right Izzy? She brought it all out, she is going to be the one packing it up,” Harry reminds her and she nods.

The two of them move outside to put her little tea set back into the basket she keeps it in, leaving you and Niall alone.

“So Y/N, how did you end up here?”

“I was working at Izzy’s daycare, but they sent me away not long ago. Then Harry contacted me and offered the job which was a lifesaver, truly.”

“That’s great! Well, not that you got fired, but that you ended up here. I know it means a lot for Harry that he can spend more time with Izzy, you’re making everything a lot easier for him.” Niall walks over into the kitchen and grabs a water for himself as he leans against the counter. “I can see that he is a lot more relaxed now already.”

“Really?” you ask, surprised.

“Yeah. I know he always used to stress about picking Izzy up, or forgetting something the daycare asked for. Now he can make it all work just how he wants to, that fits him a lot more. It hasn’t been easy on him since Maggie’s death.”

This is the first time you hear anyone talk about Harry’s wife and now you just learned her name. Maggie.

“Being a single parents is never easy,” you add with a soft smile, not wanting to interrogate Niall about Maggie. It’s Harry’s place to tell you about her, if he wants to, of course.

Soon enough Izzy and Harry take over the kitchen, Niall helping them this time and you leave them alone, taking some time for yourself in your room. Later you go out to check if there’s anything you could help with, Harry asks you to set the table as he finishes up the cooking.

“So, Y/N. Tell me a little bit about yourself!” Niall asks you over dinner.

“Um, what do you want to know?” you ask, feeling a little flustered to be in the spotlight.

“I don’t know, family, friends, hobbies?”

“Well, I have a younger brother, Trevor. He is seventeen and already taller than me.”

“Oh, that seems like a big age gap.”

“Ten years, to be exact,” you nod. “He was planned, I wasn’t,” you add with a soft chuckle. “But we have a great relationship, so it’s all good. We talk almost every day.”

“I’m sure you’ll get well along with Gemma then!” Niall beams, glancing at Harry.

“Gemma is my sister,” Harry explains. “Though she is not that much older than me.”

“But you can bond over being stuck with a younger brother who outgrew you,” Niall jokes making all three of you laugh.

All through dinner you realize how different Niall is from Harry, but in a good way. While Harry is more quiet and calm, Niall is kind of all over the place, buzzing and chatting every chance he got, but the two of them make a great pair, bringing what the other doesn’t have to the table.

After dinner you attempt to leave them again, but Niall makes you stay as they open a glass of wine. Harry puts on a movie for Izzy to keep her busy, giving the three of you a chance to sit out at the terrace from where you still can keep an eye on the little girl inside.

“Alright, Y/N. When are we going on our first date then?” Niall asks out of the blue, a cocky smile tugging on his lips.

“Niall, for fuck’s sake,” Harry breathes out as you let out an awkward chuckle.

“What? I think there’s some electricity going on between us.”

“I, uhh—I don’t…”

“Please don’t turn me down!” he sighs dramatically, making you smile.

“You’ve been great company, but I’m not sure we should go out,” you tell him. He huffs in disappointment, but it’s clear he didn’t take it to his heart.

“Is it because you’re taken? I didn’t even ask, are you dating anyone? You can’t be engaged, because I don’t see any rings,” he points out, nodding towards your naked fingers, however his words make you suck on your breath.

“I’m not engaged. Not anymore,” you admit and you watch their eyes go wide at the information.

“Wait, you’ve been engaged before?” Harry asks, clearly surprised, if not shocked.

“Yeah. For about four months,” you nod, running your tongue over your lips as you reach for your wine, taking a few large gulps.

“And what did the fucker do?” Niall bluntly questions, earning a look from Harry. “What? I’m just curious what twat it takes to lose a woman like her!”

“Maybe she doesn’t want to talk about that,” Harry presses, but you shrug.

“It’s not a secret. We dated for about two years before he proposed. I said yes, started planning the wedding and everything, then found out that he had been cheating on me with his assistant for about a year. We broke up, simple as that. It’s in the past, happened a year ago.”

“That’s some next level asshole bullshit,” Niall shakes his head while Harry is just staring at you with an unreadable look before he turns his attention at his glass, still clearly deep in his thoughts and you wonder what he thinks of you now. Here is the loser who not only got cheated on, but lost her job, all of that just in one year.

Harry doesn’t react, and a moment later Izzy comes out because she is thirsty, so daddy duties call him away. Niall stays a little, but heads home soon as well.

“It was nice meeting you, Y/N. The date still stands though,” he smirks when he pulls back from the short hug he enveloped you in.

“Alright,” you chuckle, slowly getting used to his flirty act.

You was the wine glasses and head back to your room while Harry walks Niall out and then takes Izzy upstairs to give her a bath. You don’t cross paths until later when you leave your room, already in your pajama pants and an oversized t-shirt to grab some water for yourself and he walks out of Izzy’s room just then, probably done with putting her to sleep.

“I’m sorry if Niall made you uncomfortable, he didn’t mean to be rude or anything,” he apologizes as the two of you walk together.

“Oh, don’t worry about it,” you chuckle softly. “It was kind of a boost to my ego, if I’m being honest.”

Harry huffs with a smile and stops at the kitchen island, his fingers tapping on his lips as you grab yourself a bottled water.

“I’m… I’m sorry about… about what you told us earlier.”

Closing the fridge you look at him, seeing that he is kind of hesitant, like he is not sure he should have spoken up, but you appreciate the thought.

“It’s alright. Just water under the bridge,” you shrug.

“I just feel bad you had to go through that.”

“It wasn’t your fault,” you chuckle softly. “It sucked, yeah. I really thought I would live happily ever after with Keith, but instead I got a lesson.”

“A lesson?”

“When we broke up I was obviously on the floor, both literal and theoretical way. I thought it was my fault, that I did something wrong and that’s why he did what he did. I even thought that I’m not worthy of being loved and being in love again. Took me time to realize that no matter what happened, I still deserve to be happy and to find someone to love and who can love me back.”

It appears that your words touch him deep, staring back at you, he just nods shortly, not replying to anything you just said. You’re not sure he is so silent because he doesn’t really understand what you just talked about or if it hit too close to home. Whatever it is, he keeps it to himself.

“Good night, Harry,” you smile at him before walking out of the kitchen and up into your room.

You’re lying in bed already when you hear him open his room’s door and then close it and suddenly he is all you can think about. The way his eyes sometimes pierce down on you, the way he taps his fingers against his lips when he is thinking hard or the proud smile that always plasters across his face whenever he is watching Izzy do basically anything. But you do see some pain in those beautiful green eyes of his and your desire to take just the smallest fracture of it away grows, even though he is not showing any sign that he is willing to share it with you.

The next morning, despite having the day off, you wake up quite early. You toss and turn, try to fall back asleep a little longer, but you just can’t. It’s a nice, warm morning and you decide to take advantage of the little balcony attached to your room. Wrapping yourself in your fluffy robe you grab the book you started reading a few days ago and sit out, enjoying the morning Sun that’s shining right at you on the balcony.

You don’t even realize for a while that you’re not the only early riser. When your eyes wander down to the big oak tree that’s near Izzy’s playground, you spot Harry doing what appears to be yoga on a green mattress, wearing nothing else, just a pair of black shorts. No shirt.

For a moment you think about going inside, feeling like you’re invading his privacy in a way, but you have the right to enjoy the morning Sun on your balcony, it’s not your fault he decided to have yoga at the exact same time. And it’s just hard not to look at his shirtless body stretching in all directions, twisting and turning as he goes through the motions, his tattooed body on full display.

It’s been clear since the moment you laid eyes on him for the first time that Harry is probably the most beautiful man you’ve ever met and that includes all your exes. Paired with his kind of mysterious charisma and the way he takes care of his daughter, he is the whole package, but you have been busy with Izzy to dwell too long on how attractive he really is. But right now, you are not working and he is very much shirtless in the backyard, teasing you with thoughts you definitely shouldn’t be thinking about when it comes to your boss.

A shaky breath leaves your mouth as you let yourself watch him just for a few more minutes before heading back inside, not wanting to get busted for being a stalker and also not wanting to see him in more positions and have even more unholy thoughts about him.

But what you don’t know is that just as you step inside, Harry catches your figure disappearing in your room, knowing well you saw him too.

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed it!

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blu-joons · 3 years

Text

The Fans Love You After Announcing Your Relationship ~ Ateez Reaction

Seonghwa:

You watched closely as Seonghwa went to speak, before quickly closing his mouth again. You waited a few moments, before nudging him gently. “What?” He asked you.

“Tell me,” you whispered, “judging by your face, it’s bad, so you might as well let me see. You don’t need to protect me from your fans if they don’t like me.”

His head shook, wrapping his free arm around you. “It’s actually the complete opposite, they’re all commenting about how lovely and kind you look.”

“Are you sure? You’re not just making that up to make me feel better about this.”

“No,” he giggled, “apparently we look really good together, it seems the fans are liking us, we had no reason to ever worry about things.”

You let go of a huge sigh of relief as you moved closer into Seonghwa’s side. “I don’t think I’ve ever been as relieved as I am right now, I’m so glad they’re happy.”

“Me too, now I get to show you off to the world too.”

Hongjoong:

You smiled across at Hongjoong as he walked into the apartment as the interview came to an end. “Have you looked?” He quizzed, having revealed your relationship on air.

“I’ve got my laptop open, but I was too scared to look by myself,” you told him, encouraging him to walk into the room and take a look beside you.

Hongjoong woke your laptop up, reading through the first few comments. “These are all so lovely, I think the fans are going to end up being a big fan of you, they love you.”

“But I thought they’d hate me, I thought they’d want for you to be single.”

“Maybe they saw how happy I was,” he suggested, resting his hand against your leg. “I’m so relieved that the fans are happy and supporting of the two of us together.”

Your head rested against his shoulder, “I can guarantee you’re not as happy as I am. I never wanted to be the one to drive a wedge between you and your fans.”

“You’re not, I promise. They all absolutely adore you.”

Yunho:

He couldn’t help but proudly grin as the comments filled up on his first live since your relationship was announced. “They’re all desperate for you to come and say hello jagi.”

“Don’t lie,” you scolded, but when you saw his head shook, and his hand point to the screen, you certainly began to wonder. “Do they really want to see me? Are you serious?”

His hand beckoned you to walk over and join his side, “they’re telling me that unless I make you come and join me on the live, they’re all going to leave and not talk to me.”

“I guess if they want to see me that much, it would be rude of me not to say hi.”

“Give the fans what they want,” he teased pulling you down to sit on his lap, “they’re happy to finally be able to meet the reason for my smile.”

You glanced down at him with a wide grin, “you’re supposed to tell the fans they’re the reason for your smile, not me.”

“You’re both reasons for my smile, it’s why it’s so wide.”

Yeosang:

Once you watched Yeosang upload his photo of the two of you, you couldn’t help but panic. “There’s no going back now, it’s up for everyone to find out about.”

“I’m scared,” you whispered into his ear, “what if this was a mistake? What if we were just better off keeping things as a secret and keeping your fans happy?”

His head shook as he read through the first few comments, “it looks like the fans still are happy, take a look, so many of these comments are positive and supporting.”

“So many of them are saying how nice we look together, they can see our smiles.”

“That’s because I am happy,” he smiled, kissing against the top of your head, “I always knew deep down that the fans would see exactly what I saw in you.”

You glanced across at him with a smile, “I’m just relieved that they can see that I’m a good thing in your life and that I don’t mean no harm.”

“They know that, that’s why they all are loving you.”

San:

As you walked into the living room, you could instantly tell that something wasn’t quite right with San. “Come and see what I’ve done, I’ve been busy whilst you’ve been working.”

“Doing what?” You quizzed, sitting yourself down beside him, peering at what he’d done. “You released a statement about us? San, have you completely lost your mind?”

His head shook, trying to calm you down. “I’m fed up with keeping you a secret, today was the last straw. I want the fans and the world to see how happy I am with you.”

“But what if something goes wrong? You’re risking a lot in doing this.”

“Look,” he smiled, showing you a few of the comments online. “There’s no need for us to worry, it seems that the fans are liking the two of us together.”

Your eyes widened in surprise as you read through a few of them, “I thought the fans would hate me, I thought that this would be it for the two of us.”

“They’re happy for us, and I’m very happy with you too.”

Mingi:

Your smile grew as Mingi walked into your bedroom, handing his phone across to you. “Have a read of some of the things I’ve just been look at,” he smiled.

“Oh,” you mumbled, flicking through a few of the comments on the screen, each of them remarking how nice you were. “Don’t the partners of idols usually get a torrent of abuse?”

His shoulders shrugged, sitting himself down beside you. “There’s usually a bit of hate, but all of these seem so positive. It seems that Atiny really seems to like you.”

“I feel like there should be at least one negative comment in there somewhere.”

“No, make the most of it,” he chuckled, “it’s so nice to be able to read through and see that all of the fans like you as much as I do.”

You smiled widely as you settled against his chest, “I’m really pleased that they like me, and that this has worked out well for you and the boys too.”

“I always knew the fans would love you, how could they not?”

Wooyoung:

You listened closely as Wooyoung told you that he’d read out one of the comments on the post. “Y/N’s stunning, Wooyoung is definitely punching in finding her.”

“There’s no way your fans would say that,” you argued, fighting him for his phone so that you could have a look for yourself. “Wait…they really did say that?”

His head nodded, “I wasn’t making it up. Why don’t you read a couple more, I promise that you won’t regret it, they’re all so happy for the two of us.”

“The two of them look like they’ve been together for a while, they’re a good match.”

“They want to know why we didn’t tell them sooner,” he laughed, “apparently we shouldn’t have been scared to tell them as they would always be happy for us.”

Your head shook as he read through a couple more, “I never imagined that the response would be as kind as it is, this doesn’t feel real.”

“Neither did I, but I’m so glad that it is.”

Jongho:

His stomach dropped as soon as he realised that he’d accidentally shared a photo of you both online, until he flicked through the comments. “They seem to be really happy?”

“Who?” You questioned from beside him, unaware of what he was talking about. His eyes looked across at you in panic, forgetting you were beside him. “What’s happened?”

He slowly turned his phone so that you could see. “It was an accident, I promise. But the fans seem to be filling the post with love, so that’s a relief.”

“How did you manage to reveal our relationship Jongho, what did you do?”

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, “but there’s no reason to be sad, the reaction is really nice, better than I ever imagined.”

You let go of a heavy sigh, as angry as you wanted to be, the reaction was far too nice. “At least they know now, we don’t have to be a secret anymore.”

“It turned out my accident was pretty successful in the end.”

---

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captnjacksparrow · 3 years

Note

Hey. So when do you think Sasuke realised his true feelings for Naruto? I feel like he knew since part one itself, in some way at least. He was aware of something. When Sasuke tells Naruto his body moved on its own, I feel like there were seeds of realisation or at least a trigger point. In Shippuden, he always seems like he is fully aware of his depth of feelings for Naruto, he gets super emotional because of it. The fact that he is driven to ask Naruto again and again about his feelings, and is disappointed except for chapter 698 proves that he knew this feeling was somehow different, and he wanted understanding from Naruto, maybe to validate his own feelings, since he is equally inexperienced if not oblivious like Naruto.

He knows deep down that Naruto is special to him, he adores Naruto privately, he had since before the genin days. At the end of vote 1, I think he realises it fully, his true feelings for Naruto. What do you think?

Wonderful Ask, Anon!!! 😍😍😍.

[[Lengthy Post ahead]]

WHEN DID SASUKE REALIZED HIS TRUE FEELINGS FOR NARUTO?

I am damn sure, like 100%, the moment he realized his true feelings is when he thought he was going to die and recollected all the memories he shared with Naruto (including the Accidental Kiss and Roasting Sakura for insulting Naruto) for one Last Time in the Land of the Waves Arc.

You might be thinking now, "What makes you so sure?"

Well, Kishimoto just hammered into our faces in many plotlines.

How is this panel has to do anything with Sasuke?, You may ask.

The answer is here.

"You will realize what you are, as death comes to embrace you".

Itachi, no matter how cold he acted before Sasuke in that battle, he simply couldn't keep up his Evil Brother act at the final moment of his death.

He just smiled. That is who Itachi really was and always will be for Sasuke.

Again, you may ask, 'All this happens much later in the series, Kishi might've had a different mindset back when he was drawing part 1'.

You are right. But Kishi's mindset was the same all the time. He even established this 'True face before Death' theme very strongly in Land of the Waves arc itself.

This is who Zabuza really was. He didn't treat Haku like a Tool. Infact, his final words were, "I wanted to go the same place as you".

Kakashi made sure to convey this message to Haku in the War Arc, when he fought with the Edo Tensei'ed Haku and Zabuza.

And there are many characters who died in this series. Almost all of them projects their true feelings before their death. Just rewind the deaths of Nagato, Yahiko, Konan, Obito, Madara. You might've noticed that there won't be any lies. For Example, Obito. When he died for the first time, he was really thinking about Kakashi and Rin. He even said, ‘I wish I could’ve spent more time with them’. That’s who Obito really was. He was convinced with that Tsukuyomi plan because he wanted to live in a dream world where Rin and Kakashi will be with him happily.

So, a person, at their final moment thinks only about all their memories shared with that 'precious' person signifies only one thing. That person must have unconditionally loved the one they thought about.

Sasuke realized that he loves Naruto at that moment and he had no regrets because he smiled before falling into Naruto's lap.

And I always wondered, 'Why did Sasuke thought only about Naruto? Didn't he have any other good memories other than the ones he shared with Naruto?'.

Well, this goes way back when he was just 8, right after the Massacre. Yes, the chapter 698 confession. But I am not going to attach all the panels here as I will go in-depth about it later in this post.

However, there are three panels that provides the general gist of what Sasuke felt about Naruto, the whole time.

Happiness:

Whenever Sasuke watches Naruto, he reminded him of his family and it made Sasuke 'felt relieved' or 'feel warm and fuzzy'. Simply put, Naruto's presence made him happy.

And did Sasuke ever felt relieved?

Yes, he did!!

This above scene happens sometime after the massacre and yet, somehow Naruto could make him smile even in that distressful situation.

And this is one recurring feeling which Sasuke experience whenever he comes in contact with Naruto. After the Massacre, somehow Naruto became his source of happiness or relief. This panel right after massacre, that smile before his ‘supposed’ death, on seeing the Great Naruto Bridge with a relaxed smile, VoTE2 smile.....

Sasuke smiled at all these scenes and you know the reason why!!!

Weakness:

This is exactly opposite from how he felt earlier. And this conflicting thoughts are what Sasuke was battling in his mind throughout Part 1 and Part 2 until Chapter 697. He liked Naruto's presence. But, For him, the very thought of bonding with him made him feel weak.

According to Sasuke, the stronger he bonds with someone the more he has to worry about losing them and the very thought of losing them will put him in a precarious position which is considered as a weakness. And Sasuke doesn’t want to experience this again.

Meaning, Sasuke doesn’t want to feel the pain of loss over someone, ever again. He wants to be the person who don’t care about anyone.

Did Sasuke ever expose his weakness?

Yes he did!!!

This is his absolute display of weakness and this is what he always wanted to avoid. The very thought of something is going to happen to Naruto made him do something that put him under immense pain.

Yes, In his mind, he doesn’t want to care about anyone’s loss. But his body doesn’t seem to listen to him. And that’s why his body moved on it’s own.

God!!! This made me cry!!!!

Pain:

Now, this feeling Sasuke had towards Naruto was very evident in the War Arc. That one time he sensed Naruto’s Chakra in Konoha and asked Orochimaru to hurry up. Also when Naruto was bawling after seeing countless shinobi’s deaths, Sasuke’s reaction changed from ‘I don’t care 😶’ to ‘How dare you😠’, I consider all these moments where Sasuke was bothered about Naruto . But since, I want to focus only on Pre- Land of the Waves moments, I’m not going to add those moments here.

Did Sasuke felt pain in Part 1?

Of course, he did!!!

Well, I always consider this scene as something ‘very personal’ for Sasuke.

In this post, I’ve written about how chapter 3 is masked by the ‘Accidental Kiss’ as a comical facade but when you analyze it deeply you will find that Naruto and Sasuke’s rivalry thing goes long back, even before the series started.

After hearing Pinky’s insensitive comment, what Sasuke did here was completely extreme. He was just giving her a ‘Murder Stare’ which was way too extreme for Naruto, if he was just a teammate. When in reality, Naruto was not just his teammate. That’s why I think Sasuke was bothered by this insensitive comment and roasted her because he knew Naruto was suffering from this loneliness ever since he saw him when he was 8. And when someone made fun of his loneliness, Sasuke just couldn’t keep quiet.

Isn’t this some form of feeling pain of the person you care about and standing up for them?

This is another scene which I don’t have to go in detail about.

On my first watch, I always wondered, ‘Why Sasuke was making exceptions for Naruto? They just know for a very few days and yet why was he giving his lunch and standing up for him, which he doesn’t have to in the first place? It’s just 2 episodes in and Sasuke has already made 4 exceptions, why was he doing this?’

But after watching Episode 478, I came to the realization that Sasuke did all these because he knew about Naruto before the series even started.

It’s funny that before this scene, Sasuke was giving his long-ass serious speech to Pinky about how he is an avenger, he was crying at that time, he wants to get stronger than someone and wants to kill him, he can’t waste his time here..... And yet when he saw Naruto suffering from Hunger, he just gave his lunch without minding the consequences. (Ninja Career says Hello!!!!)

Now, Let’s get back to my previous question I posed here,

Why did Sasuke thought only about Naruto in his final moments? Didn't he have any other good memories other than the ones he shared with Naruto?

The answer is, ‘Sasuke always felt any one of the three extreme emotions such as Happiness, Weakness, Pain in the presence of Naruto. And all these 3 extremities are not something you feel for everyone unless that person shares your blood or the person you love unconditionally. Sasuke, at this point has no one that shares his blood plus the only blood relation left was the one he wants to kill. And since Sasuke thinks he is going to die, he doesn’t mind thinking about his happiest moments with the person he considers as ‘precious’ , because somehow Sasuke considers Naruto as ‘His Person’ or you can say ‘a part of himself’’

And that’s why I think Sasuke realized his true feelings just when he was about to die.

At the end of vote 1, I think he realizes it fully, his true feelings for Naruto.

I had this same thought before, anon!!! But after multiple re-watches, I realized something else. You cannot realize your true feelings and say a painful ‘Good Bye’ at the same time.

Realizing true feelings works only in two ways,

You either say a ‘Good Bye’ to someone. After leaving that person you may realize you miss that person and eventually you may come to term with your feelings.

You already have a strong feeling established in your heart and say a painful ‘Good Bye’. And VoTE 1 belongs to this category.

Simply put, Break ups and Love realization cannot happen simultaneously.

And that’s why Sasuke casually said, “To me, you’ve become my closest friend” without any hesitation. Because he already knew it otherwise obtaining Mangekyou Sharingan (MS) will not be possible if you don’t have such a strong feelings established already.

That whole battle started off as a way to obtain MS but then it changed into his desperate attempt to cut off his bond with Naruto to become stronger and only killing him can sever it because it’s such a strong one. It’s not a bond that will be severed by saying a simple, ‘Thank you’.

At this moment, Sasuke must be realizing he simply cannot cut off this bond and he is again making an exception by letting this one weakness to exist and embracing it by being closer to him for one final time.

And this is one of the hauntingly brilliant way of conveying A Connection indirectly. And the best part is... this scene is not accidental. We know Sasuke felt stinging pain in his arms and knelt down & coughed up blood. How did he end up straight above Naruto’s face?

It’s because Sasuke simply wanted to convey his unbroken bond with Naruto by deliberately leaning towards his face. Rain falls on Sasuke and all those droplets passes through Sasuke’s face and falls upon Naruto’s face or it is very possible that Sasuke might by crying and his tears might be touching his face, but either way, it creates a Connection which he couldn’t able to cut off. In the fillers, Sasuke’s sweat drop falls on Naruto. It’s almost similar to how at the end of chapter 698, both of their blood connects together to form a connection. Which means only death can separate their connection.

That’s why I feel that this is the moment where he is painfully saying his Good Bye for one last time, it pains him immensely because he already knows that leaving his ‘precious’ person who became a part of himself is not very easy added to that he hurt him so much during the battle. And for this reason, Sasuke felt ‘leaving Naruto is like ripping off half of his body’.

He knows deep down that Naruto is special to him, he adores Naruto privately, he had since before the genin days. What do you think?

Sasuke always fights this inner battle within himself. Mind Vs Heart & Body.

His mind says, ‘No more Bonds. Just stay alone. That will save you a lot of pain’.

His body says, ‘Create Bonds. Feel Relieved’.

When Sasuke met Naruto near the lake pier, His body wins the battle and that’s why he smiled back at him despite the trauma he went through few days earlier. This is when Naruto became special to him.

When Sasuke attempted to make friendship with Naruto. His body wins the battle and that’s why he offered food, trained along with him.

When Sasuke died for Naruto by casting away his dreams, his body moved on its own.

At the beginning of VoTE1 battle, his mind said, ‘Leave Naruto. Pursue your dreams by treading in a darker path by filling your heart with hatred’. His body said, ‘Be with Naruto. Achieve your goals by filling your heart with Love’.

By the end of VoTE1, Sasuke came to the conclusion that he really couldn’t sever his bond with Naruto, no matter how hard he tried. That’s why his body moved on its own and ended up straight above Naruto’s face for one last time. Carrying all the heart break of a painful breakup, Sasuke treads towards the darker path. For the very first time, Sasuke’s mind won the inner battle. And he was extremely saddened by it.

Throughout Shippuden, Sasuke mostly listened to his mind and whenever he does, he was seen pushing Naruto away like leaving with Orochimaru, ramming chidori through Naruto’s Shadow Clone when pursuing Itachi, promising to kill Naruto before Attacking Konoha, wanting to fight with Naruto in VoTE2.

But whenever he followed his heart, you can see scenes like Sasuke occupying Naruto’s personal space in Orochimaru hideout, Sasuke smiling at Great Naruto Bridge, asking Obito about Kyuubi (Naruto) when he joined Akatsuki, stopping his rampage on seeing Naruto’s eyes under The Bridge, asking Obito to wait and listened to Naruto under the Bridge, sensing Naruto’s chakra in Konoha and getting concerned about it, prioritize saving Naruto over everyone in the War Arc, switching off Sharingan at the last moment. These are all the moment where Sasuke’s heart was winning over his mind.

And finally at the end of VoTE2, Sasuke happily claimed, ‘I lost’, meaning, his mind which always asked him to cut the bond with Naruto lost to his Heart and Body which always wanted him to be with Naruto. And when Sasuke felt that he was unconditionally loved by Naruto who was willing to share his pain, Sasuke cried happily and finally sealed his Bond with Naruto.

But anyways, I still get this question, why do Sasuke had to battle his feelings for Naruto like a lover? And why Naruto had to act all Tsundere towards Sasuke for most of the Part 1 if only they are friends!!! Like Shikamaru was never shown to be acting tsundere towards Chouji or Naruto. Or Obito was never shown to battle his feelings towards Kakashi!!! Itachi was never shown to be obsessed about Sasuke all the time. Or Hashirama was never obsessed about Tobirama either. Like we were shown many fraternal bonds, friendly bonds throughout the series. And yet why none of those bonds fits for Naruto and Sasuke?

Well, this post is not the right place to cover these questions and I am simply going to leave it at that.

Sasuke realized it very early and that’s why he decided to push Naruto away by the end of Part 1. Whereas Naruto truly realized his feelings at the end of Part 1 and decided to put himself close with Sasuke in Part 2 and finally confessed in VoTE2 that, ‘Remember, you once gave me your food during the Bell Test? It’s because you simply can’t tolerate to watch me suffer before your eyes.... I also feel the same way about you.. I simply cannot see you suffer alone when you were willing to give your body to Orochimaru... It just hurt me a lot inside’.

They finally realize the feelings they had for each other is a love in a broader sense which cannot be labelled under a certain term (it may include a father, a mother, a friend, a lover too) and we can call them as Pure Soulmates, where one cannot live without the other, where one cannot bear to see the other one suffer and they always wanted to be standing next to each other sharing their happiness and pain in their hearts.

#sasunaru #sasunarusasu #narusasu #sns #naruto #sasuke #they are the eternal soulmates #naruto analysis #meta post #when did sasuke realize his feelings for naruto

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xtinyaurora · 3 years

Note

Hi! Can I request a Yandere!Ateez reaction to you running away? I know it’s the standard but I thought it would be easier for the beginning :)

Yandere!Ateez reaction: Their Y/N tries to run away

_____________________________________

➼ requested: yes

➼ genre: yandere, smut

➼ gender neutral + Ateez / gnxateez

➼ Word-count: 1386 words

➼ Warnings: nsfw content, strong language, cursing, spanking, slapping, punching, pet names, degradation, yandere themes, psychopathic, blood, violence, yelling, cuffing,...

➼ Note: This is not based on their real behavior or meant to represent real life. This is simply a fan fiction. In no way am I condoning, justifying, encouraging or promoting yandere behavior or lifestyle. Read at your own risk!!!

____________________________________________

Park Seonghwa

He slowly traced the knife over your naked body, you laying on the bed, cuffed and blindfolded. The only thing heard were your tiny whimpers, until his chuckle broke the silence. „What’s wrong, baby, did I ruin your plans?” Well, he did. Yes, you might be dumb for trying to run away, but it seemed so easy. Seonghwa was gone, going grocery shopping and since you weren’t locked in your room this night, you took that opportunity and broke the tiny bathroom window (since the other doors & windows were locked). So as you were trying to squeeze yourself through that window, Seonghwa returned. Scared and confused about his early return, he told you about the cameras. After harshly pulling you out of that widow, he got you into your current state. You cried, begged and tried to apologize but he didn’t wanted to listen to you. „Pathetic” said the male in front of you with an angry yet unimpressed face. The sound of his belt was heard. „Let’s teach you a proper lessen, yea?”

Kim Hongjoong

He told you to follow his rules, or there will be bad consequences. You didn’t listen. Oh how dumb you are to beak one of his most important rules. „Please, I will do everything you want but please stop!” you cried out loudly. Hongjoong only looked at you with his demonic eyes, smirking at you. „Oh, you want me to stop?” he mocked you with a voice, similar to your own. „Want me to stop pulling out your nails, to stop with the constant whipping and punching and to stop biting your skin so it doesn’t bleed? No, slut, I am not gonna stop, because I’ve told you many times not to break the rules. I’ve told you to never try and run away from me, but, you didn’t listen. So take responsibility for your actions and live with the consequences, dumb pet.”

Jeong Yunho

„You’ve hurt me.” said the guy in front of you, disappointed and angry. „Yunho, I am so sorry, but I can’t do this anymore, please try to understand me.” you cried, kneeling in front of him, hands behind your back. „No, I don’t understand, and I won’t ever understand and do you know why? Because I give you everything you want, everything you can dream of, take care of you and love you to death, and this is the way you repay me? Are you serious, Y/N?” He started to form tears in his eyes while talking. Honestly, you felt kinda bad and ashamed because he was right. He actually really treats you like a royalty, expect for not letting you out of course. He never forgot to buy your favorite flowers before coming home and he never failed to realize when you felt down, taking care of you and not leaving your side for a second. „I am sorry, but I need to show you that you can’t always have it your way, baby. You’ve tested my patience... Come on turn around and get on all fours.”

Kang Yeosang

Stupid. That’s what Yeosang thought of you right now. How could you be so stupid, asking his friends for help? Since you knew his phone password, you texted his friends and tried to explain what kind of a psycho your boyfriend was and that you needed help to escape. Of course, no one believed you. After deleting everything, you putted his phone back, sitting on the couch quietly. „Here.” your boyfriend gave you a bowl of popcorn, starting the movie you were planning to watch. After 10 minutes, Yeosang took his phone from under the pillow, checking what you were up to since he saw how you typed on it before. One of his best friends, Wooyoung, texted him, asking about what his lover told them earlier. Yeosang got red out of anger. „Hey, baby?” he asked. You slowly turned you head in his direction, panicking. „Yes?”. „Did you play with my phone?”. Silence. Now he looked at you and before anything else, you felt his fist in your face. Not once or twice but around 12 times in a row, face starting to bleed. „Stupid thing, what do you think you are doing?! I will make you regret this.”

Choi San

„Yea, you like that, slut?” growled the male behind you. He’s in the middle of ripping your ass apart, punishing you for trying to run away. You idiot thought you could cuff him to the bed while he was sleeping and take his keys to get out of there. Oh how dumb you are. „You little piece of shit, I am going to hurt you so bad. How dare you to pull something like this, huh?!” did the psycho scream at you. He turned you around, grabbing your neck, putting pressure on it and spitting on your face. Then he started slapping you in the face. „Learn your place, pet. Don’t you dare to do something as stupid as this again because next time, I am not only going to break those pretty legs but your arms too, is this understood?”. You only nodded, too terrified to speak. „Good. Now let me get a knife, so I can crave my name into your beautiful soft skin, hm?”

Song Mingi

You were tied to a chair, sitting in the cold and scary basement. Slowly, you heard the door opening. Mingi entered the room looking at you coldly. He had a small bag in his left hand, slowly placing it on the table a few feet from you. He then opened the bag, pulling out a hammer, a knife and an axe. He stared at them for a minute, until he took the axe into his hand and came towards your frightened figure. You began to panic, violently shaking your head. „Oh my god, please don’t.” you begged. As he didn’t stop, you closed your eyes. He kneeled down in front of you, placing the axe above your left knee. „I’ve told you to never run. I’ve told you that if you do something as stupid as this, I will hurt you. Not because I want to, but because I have to.” After finishing his sentence, he raised his hand, ready to chop you leg off.

Jung Wooyoung

You’ve seen this boy get mad, but this time he was completely different. This boy was an ass, now adding more annoyance and brutality to it. He made fun of your crying figure, calling you a crybaby and telling you to shut up. „Cut it. I said that I don’t want to hear your fucking voice. Annoying brat.” did he say while giving you another harsh spank with his belt. Your whole body felt numb at this point. Even if you wanted to move, you just couldn’t. „Ohhh, already giving in?” He laughed. „Come on you can do better than that. Straighten that back!” he started yelling at you. Since you failed to move nor talk, you remind quiet, angering him even more. He pulled you up by your hair so you could look him deep into his eyes. He then started to smirk „Oh, we will have so much fun tonight!”

Choi Jongho

Smack! A few more following close behind. Your ass probably had the shades of red, no, purple by now. I mean, Jongho is a strong man, of course his hits are a lot harder. He had you bend over his leg for over 30 minutes now, not a single glimpse of pity. You felt how the blood floated over your tights all the way to the ground. „What? Does it hurt?” you couldn’t make out any emotions in his voice. Was he still mad or was he trying to show some sympathy? You nodded your head, hoping that he would stop. But the only thing coming out of his mouth was a simple „Good.” When he stood up, you thought it was over but dang it, how dumb you were to think that. He placed you on the bed, then took his clothes off. He grabbed his phone and told you to strip. He stared filming you while so, fucking you roughly afterwards, still filming. „After our little session, I will send and post this everywhere so everyone know who you belong to and who’s names matters to you. Show everyone how good you can be for me, come on.”

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t-lostinworlds · 3 years

Text

Truth or Drink (Tom Holland)

[YouTube AU: Video 2]

a/n: this took a while asdfghjkl this was in my drafts since oct. at 7k already (but got distracted with other WIPs as always) and was suggested by this anon back in aug. so i’m sorry this took a so long hun. also, the gif took a fucking while too ‘cause we are extra in this house haha (i mean, i wanted the time in the vid to match the wc so ha). anyway, enough babbling and let’s get into the video! lol, i hope you guys enjoy this one!

summary: You and Tom do a couples Q&A where you spilled steamy secrets with the help from alcohol. pairing: tom holland x fem!reader warnings: dialogue bonanza (lots of laughing and asking), alcohol consumption, secret spilling (from both parties), teasing from everyone (will include dirty jokes from the lads), mentions of smut & risque aka sex-themed questions. word count: 14.2k+ (aha enjoy!)

☰ youtube channel | previous video << ǁ >> next video ☰ masterlist on bio & pinned post

⚠ DISCLAIMER: this is a multi-part (not a series) which is basically one-shots happening in the same universe meaning you don’t need to read the previous one to understand this one since they are not heavily connected plot wise. although each fic does happen chronologically, you don’t need to read them in order much like how you don’t need to watch youtube videos in order.

-:-:-:-:-

You knew something was about to happen the moment you walked into the dining area, the way Tom immediately went to latch onto you like a koala bear—as if he hasn't seen you just minutes before—tells all.

"What are you up to now?" you asked with a playful scrunch of your nose.

You rested your hands on his shoulders, the fabric of his pink hoodie—while you wore his other pink hoodie, outfits not at all planned since you just took the first thing you saw in his closet—soft to the touch as you took a glance at the camera that was set up at the head of the dining table. The greenery of the outside world behind the glass doors served as a backdrop to the shot.

The crease between your brows deepened at the sight, gaze landing back on the boy attached to your hip who was hugging you sideways with a certain glow in his eyes.

"I'm not up to anything," Tom denied, nuzzling his face on the crook of your neck to litter the skin with sweet and soft kisses. Although the gesture made your heart melt, it also made your suspicion grow. You just know there was more to this than meets the eye.

Strong arms staying around your torso, Tom pulled away slightly so he could meet your gaze again, a certain smile growing on his lips, one you know too well. It was the usual smile he wears whenever he wants something from you, a favor perhaps. An all too powerful grin that had you made him get away with things—mostly stupid ones—easily that you aren't exactly proud to admit.

"Tom," you warned with a raise of a brow, enough seriousness and command in your tone that he was quick to give in.

"Okay, okay, we're shooting the next video," he chuckled, tracing your jaw with the tip of his nose before giving it a soft peck. "Which I am hoping you'll do with me still," he murmured, placing another kiss on your cheek before pulling away to look at you fully as he flashed you a not-so-innocent smile.

Bingo.

Tom just doesn't suddenly become so clingy—well, he normally is but more than usual anyway—especially out of nowhere without it having an underlying reason.

You narrowed your eyes at him skeptically. You stayed silent as you weighed your odds, if the enjoyment of making the video was worth it for you to endure the obvious embarrassment that would come with it. You do love this YouTube thing he's got going on, you truly do enjoy being a part of it. But with the things he's spilled in the last video, you just want to make sure that this time won't be too much, though you highly doubt it.

It was hilarious how his bottom lip started to go at your reaction, eyes turning rounder, cuter that would give Puss in Boots a run for his money. And just as you counted in your head, three, two, one—

"Please, darling? Do it with me?" Tom cooed, placing his head on your shoulder as he gave your waist a loving squeeze, fluttering his eyelashes at you in the most adorable of ways with that cute pout to match. It was his signature look whenever he wanted something, the look of handsome and adorable persuasion. "I'll keep the secret-spilling at a minimum, love. And besides, we can always edit it out."

You let out a soft sigh, shaking your head at the fact that you're saying yes either way. You can never say no whenever he puts on that very persuasive face of his, can never resist him even if you tried. And of course, Tom knows this power he has over you, and he's mastered a way on how and when to use it to his advantage.

You aren't exactly proud to say that he has never failed once, his tactic very effective and that's putting it lightly. It's sneaky and annoying sometimes but it's still cute nonetheless.

Though, never did he once abuse this weakness of yours, only using it with the little things—like letting him sneak in some snacks on set when he was instructed not to or when he wants to do certain stuff—because when it's something serious and you say 'no,' then he's quick to listen and settle when you've made your final decision. He knows you only have the best intentions when it comes to his safety and just him in general, so there's really no doubt on Tom's behalf when it comes to following you on that.

"Why me? Why not give the other boys a chance to be in the spotlight?" you proposed, not giving him the satisfaction of winning just yet.

Tom shrugged with a wide smile. "The fans love you," he hummed.

The reception of the last video was mostly positive. Maybe it was the fact that you've been with Tom for a couple years already.

Your relationship was private of course, but it wasn't a secret. It was relatively the both of you showing glimpses of it every now and then online. So, compared to when the news first broke out, this time was a bit calmer. There are still trolls and haters—they're always going to be there unfortunately—but you've learned to shut them out, turning your focus more on the ones who are very positive and supportive. They should be the only ones who should be given attention to, no point wasting your energy on random keyboard warriors.

"You mean they love it when I make fun of you?" you said, laughter escaping your lips soon after when Tom buried his face back on the crook of your neck as he groaned in dismay.

Let's just say his fans quite enjoyed how you handled him in the last video, the teasing, the banter, the whole lot. Tom hasn't been able to escape the countless clips that are circulating the good old internet. No matter which platform he uses, a clip or meme is always there to haunt him. Most of them vary from him screaming and wriggling in pain; laughing like a hyena while also wriggling in pain; the random facial expressions he's made; and even sometimes, a snapshot of you looking at him in great disappointment and/or embarrassment. That's just some among the plethora of other memes.

Tom had seen it coming of course, but it doesn't mean it's any less embarrassing, especially with how clueless he seemed when it came to women.

"Unfortunately, that too," he grumbled.

"Okay then, might as well give them more content," you teased, Tom pulling away again to gawk at you with a look of feign betrayal crossing his features. You could only laugh at that, giving his jutted out lip a kiss to replace it with one of his many sweet smiles. Despite you saying it in a joking manner, he can't really deny that that would happen either way. After all, no matter what he does, he will always be a walking meme.

Tom finally lets you go after one more peck on the cheek, guiding you towards the seat by the other end of the table soon after. He helped you in like the gentleman that he is, a kiss landing on top of your head once you were seated before he made his way towards his place.

"What are we doing this time?" you asked when Tom sat down on the chair across from you.

And as if on cue, Harry walked into the dining area with two bottles of gin on hand, Harrison following suit with a bowl of half-sliced limes along with Tuwaine with a bucket of ice and two Collins glasses.

"Truth or drink," Harry said with a wide grin, lifting the bottles of Aviation gin to further prove his point.

"You guys chose me to do this with him because I'm a lightweight, which means I'm more likely to talk, didn't you?" you said, narrowing your eyes at each of them as they placed their respective items right in front of you in the middle of the table.

All three boys gasped exaggeratedly at your accusation, shaking their heads as they made their way behind the camera, chorusing a bunched of:

"Oh no, of course not."

"That was not the plan."

"We would never."

You could only roll your eyes at them, playfully of course, turning back to Tom who was quick to throw his hands up in surrender once he took in your expression of pure suspicion.

"I swear, I just want to do this with you, plain and simple," he confessed, though his follow up sentence made you think that it wasn't as plain and simple. "But you are very funny when you have alcohol in your system."

"Does that mean I'm not when sober?" You raised your brow at the man across you, sitting straight up as you clasp your hands together, resting it on the table to seem serious.

Tom shook his head frantically. "No! You're still very funny sober!" he rushed. "Love, you know what I meant," he added with a whine, head dropping low once you let out a laugh, only lifting it back up to shoot you another pout. He can be quite gullible sometimes and you honestly love it, love teasing him about.

"Besides, it's a couples Q&A and the only couple here are you two so there aren't really any options. The only difference is that it has alcohol to spice things up a little," Harry said, now in his place behind the camera just like before.

"With equally spicy questions," Harrison added with a wriggle of his brows, coming back up on the head of the table to place a stack of white cards to which you assumed was where the questions were written.

"You guys wrote the questions didn't you? Okay, this is a set up," you joked.

"They're harmless questions I swear!" Harrison defended with a laugh before returning back to his place by the camera. Though knowing them for as long as you have, you've learned to never trust those words fully. It was highly expected that the questions aren't going to be simple, let alone safe for work.

"But if you're not comfortable doing it, it's totally fine, darling," Tom said, smiling sweetly as he grabbed your hands across the table and gave it a gentle, reassuring squeeze. He knows you have never been an avid drinker. As you've said, you are lightweight. So, if ever you wanted to back out, he's just making sure you know that you have the option to.

"No, I'm fine with it. This will be fun," you said, flashing him a true, reassuring smile of your own, squeezing his hand in return for good measure. "But can I at least have some juice or something? I'm not drinking gin straight," you added.

"Figured you'd say that," Tom said with a wide grin, rushing up from his seat and disappearing into the kitchen. He came back not long after with a bottle of orange juice on one hand all while holding a spoon and paring knife on the other. "Rollin' down the street, smokin' indo, sippin' on gin and juice," he sang the good old Snoop Dogg classic no matter how corny, placing the bottle juice right beside the gin on the head of the table.

You narrowed your eyes at your man. "You seem prepared Tom."

"Nope, I just know you too well," he hummed, giving you a sweet peck on the forehead before he was back on his seat across you.

"Right, let's give the people what they want," you said, rubbing your hands together with a wide smile.

It was Tom's turn to look at you skeptically. "Why do I have a feeling that we'll just take turns in exposing each other?"

You tilted your head at him with a grin, shrugging your shoulders and said,

"How bad can it be?"

***

"And we are rolling."

"What's up guys! Tom Holland here," he introduced with a loud clap. "I'm back with another video joined by none other than the gorgeous Y/N." You waved at the camera with a sweet smile at the mention of your name. "The rest of the gang are behind the camera as per usual," Tom added, the lads cheering at their cue unenthusiastically and totally not in sync, chuckles and giggles following soon after.

"You can feel the excitement in the room," Tom said sarcastically with a roll of his eyes. "Anyhow, since lovely Ryan Reynolds sent me a case of gin just recently, I thought; why not put it to good use?" Tom shot the camera a knowing look. "Hashtag not sponsored but should be!" he yelled, making you jump slightly at the sudden loud sound.

"Do you have to be so loud?" you grumbled, playfully covering your ears in the process.

"Oh, sorry love," Tom chuckled, shooting you a sweet smile before turning back to the camera, finger pointed at it as he said, "But Ryan, my DMs are always open."

"Always looking for someone to replace me," you sighed, shaking your head dejectedly as you turned to the camera with a deep frown.

"Ah, here we go," Tom groaned, shooting you a playful glare because he knows that the teasing would only get more and more prominent from here on out.

"What? You and I both know I've got a lot of competition," you said as a matter of fact, leaning back on your seat with arms crossed over your chest. "Mainly Jake G. and Harrison, with a couple of variations here and there but you get what I mean."

Tom shook his head at you with a teasing roll of his eyes. "Once again, my girlfriend everyone," he said to the lens with a tight lip smile before turning back to you with a deadpan expression. You only shrugged in response, flashing him an innocent smile.

"Anyway, a fan suggested this in the comments of the last video so today, we're going to be doing Truth or Drink," he continued, turning back to face the camera. "Rules are simple, we take turns on reading out the questions that are written on these cards right here"—Tom lifted the stack of white, rectangular cards before placing them back on the table—"and we either answer them truthfully or we take a drink."

"Oh and a little disclaimer," you paused as you looked at the camera. "The lads wrote the questions so we have no idea what's in the cards nor did we have any involvement in the choosing of certain topics which are possibly going to be discussed in this video," you added, feeling like it was a fact that needed to be said.

"Parental guidance is advised," Tom chuckled.

"They're not that bad you divs," Harrison grumbled.

Now you're certain on who wrote most of the questions, he's been keen on taking offense whenever anyone gets suspicious over them. "We'll be the judge of that," you stated, raising a brow at Harrison before turning back to Tom.

"Let's get right into it shall we?" Tom proposed. You gave him a nod in response, jutting out two thumbs up for good measure. "Ladies first," he said, flashing you a charming grin as he gestured towards the pile of cards.

You reached over to the pile, making sure to pick the card in the middle just to make sure that it was completely random. You adore the lads, but knowing how mischievous they can get, you've learned to always keep one eye open with regard to everything that they do. Plus, it was so easy to set it up for you to pick a certain question given that it was only you and Tom taking turns on picking a card.

"We are starting off with something a tad bit dark huh." You gave the lads a swift glance before turning to the card you had on hand. "If I killed someone would you help me cover it up?" you read out loud, placing the card on the discarded pile before your gaze landed on Tom who gave you a small, secretive nod 'yes' which only made you giggle.

Tom leaned forward as he rested his elbow on the marble surface, hand playing with his chin with his eyes on the ceiling to seem that he was deep in thought. He turned back to you and said, "Do we not get any context? Was it an accident or was it on purpose? Was it due to hate or fear? Was it justified?"

"It's a yes or no answer Tom," you laughed.

"Well then, you already know the answer but for legal purposes," Tom paused, reaching for the bucket of ice and putting some in his glass. He poured the gin on top of that and then added a dash of lime, swirling around the glass to mix them all together. "My lips are sealed," he chuckled, lifting the glass up to his lips and taking a drink. "Oh, that's good stuff," he commented, taking another sip before putting the glass back down.

"Hypothetically, if you were going to help, you'll probably be the one who'll get us caught if I'm being honest," you giggled to which Tom threw his head back with a laugh.

"Yeah, you'll tell me what you did, I'll get shocked and as we're getting stuff to you know, hypothetically hide the body, I'll go 'I can't believe you killed someone' in public and then someone will hear and call the police and we're done."

You burst out in a hearty laugh at that, nodding your head in agreement. "That's exactly how it's going to happen."

It was Tom's turn to pick a question, his grin growing wider as his eyes scanned the card in his fingers. "What's the most embarrassing thing you've done in front of me?" he asked, his features brightening in excitement because he already knows the answer. There wasn't really much to begin with other than that one incident that will always haunt you for the rest of your life.

"Do you want me to tell them the story?" you sighed, leaning back on your chair with palms flat on the table. It wasn't one of your finest moments that's for sure and Tom hasn't been letting you hear the end of it. In fact, it was one of his favourite stories involving you both.

"It's up to you, love. You don't have to if you don't want to." Tom shrugged with a smirk, reaching for your glass to get your drink made. "But that moment was so adorable for me though, embarrassing for you but very adorable for me," he added with a wink.

"Adorable or ego boosting?" you pointed out with a raise of your brow.

"Both," Tom laughed, adding some ice in your glass and pouring just the right amount of gin soon after.

You watched with an adoring smile as he poured in the orange juice, the sound of silverware and glass clinking together filling the air as he mixed up the liquids. He then squeezed a bit of lime in your drink, taking the paring knife soon after to slice up another lime in a thin circle, making a small slit in the middle so he can put it on the rim of your glass easily. Tom can be extra at times, of course he felt the need to decorate your drink, even when it wasn't exactly necessary but you wouldn't want it any other way.

"Look at you being a bartender," you teased, Tom looking up from his task to shoot you playful wink with a smug smirk to match.

"You love to see it."

You shrugged, not at all denying his claim because well, you do love seeing it.

"Here you go, mi lady," he hummed, handing you your beautifully decorated drink with a proud grin on his lips.

"Thank you, kind sir."

As much as how refreshing the cocktail looked in its cold glass and bright, orange colored glory, you know you had to be strategic with drinking. Because alcohol boosts your confidence, it makes you brave, it makes you say things you wish you hadn't when sober. And with you being lightweight, it isn't exactly ideal to be happy-go-lucky with it, especially knowing how these questions can go from one thing to another real quick.

You thought it's best to share embarrassing things that you can live with to keep the drinking at a minimum, rather than take too much alcohol too fast and say worse things down the line because you got somewhat tipsy or downright drunk. There's really no way of knowing how hard it hits given that different types of alcohol affect you in different ways.

"Okay, it was when we first met, which obviously doesn't make it any less embarrassing, first impressions and all that," you started, sitting straight up as your fingers drummed around the cool surface of your glass. "Me and a friend of mine were at this park and decided it would be fun to rent out these bikes to get around quicker, so we did. Lo and behold, Tom and Harrison were also at said park—"

"Oh yeah, I remember this," Harrison laughed. "This is going to be good."

You shot the blonde lad a quick glare before continuing. "Luck wasn't on my side that day—well, depends on how you look at things because I did meet Tom and seem to have gotten far," you laughed towards the camera, giving Tom a swift glance who was quick to lock eyes with you as he nodded agreeably with a chuckle. "But add that to me being very clumsy and simply put, I fell off the bike right in front of him," you sighed dejectedly, heat coating your cheeks as the lads chuckled in their seats, purely in amusement and not at all in a demeaning way.

"Go on love, let's hear the full thing," Tom encouraged, sitting back on his chair with his arms crossed over his chest to relax, attention fully on you as if he hasn't heard this story many times before. He genuinely does love hearing it. As you've said, it was one of his favourites.

"I'm getting there," you grumbled, narrowing your eyes at Tom who only flashed you an adorable, bright smile, knowing that if he does that, you can't stay mad at him. With a another sigh, you continued, "As we were riding our bikes, we saw him and Harrison sitting on this random bench from afar doing, I don't know, maybe they were on a date or something—"

"Darling, don't try and steer the topic here," Tom laughed. You stuck out your tongue at him—yes, very mature—his laughter only growing louder at your reaction.

"I'm a big fan of the Marvel movies, so obviously, I knew who he was. I was trying to keep my cool, you know, I didn't want to embarrass myself in front of him and thought I'll just ride pass, don't want to disturb whatever they had going on. But as soon as we got near to where they were sat, he looked towards my direction and we made eye contact—"

"The power I have," Tom crooned with a smug smile, earning a pointed eye-roll from you.

"Oh shut up. You know that wasn't the sole reason why I fell," you scoffed. "The chains on my bike went loose so I had no full control over it. We weren't going slowly as well because this friend of mine thought it was a good idea to one up each other so we kept going faster and faster, racing towards who knows what.

"So, my next option was to just plant my foot on the ground to stop it right? But as I've said, luck wasn't on my side that day. Before I could even do it, a rock went under the front wheel—which I didn't see given that I was distracted, you lot know why—and completely took me off balance and the bike went sideways real quick that I didn't have any time to react at all. And...did I roll a few times?" You turned to your boyfriend.

"Twice," he confirmed, a sympathetic smile on his lips as he tilted his head at you sweetly.

"Now, I don't see why you find this story adorable." You narrowed your eyes at your man.

"Not the actual accident, darling. It's what happened after that I found adorable. You were so cute being all shy and embarrassed," Tom defended with a pout. "And you know for a fact that whenever I see you with the smallest scrape or cut I panic and fuss over you immediately."

"You do. A bit too overdramatically," you giggled. It was a bit much sometimes how he worries but that's just Tom being the caring and overprotective boyfriend that he is. "Anyway, so yes, I rolled on the ground twice but all I remember was that I was already lying on my back, watching the sky while my knees, forearms up to my elbows and palms were burning. Then I saw Tom approaching and I swear I was just wishing that the ground would swallow me up right then and there," you finished.

"I quickly rushed to her aid, because you know, I'm Spider-Man," Tom added with a cocky shrugged, arms open wide as if to showcase himself.

There was a loud, collective groan from the lads which earned a laugh from you and a sound of pure protest from Tom.

"It's true!" he exclaimed. "Anyway, she then went, 'oh, my knight and shining armour, my handsome Prince Charming'," Tom gushed, voice at a higher pitch with the utmost exaggeration as he placed the back of his hand over his forehead. "And I went, 'don't worry princess, I'm here to save you,' and then we kissed and lived happily ever after," he concluded with the cheekiest smile.

"We remember this story very differently." You shook your head at him with a hearty laugh. This boy is always something else. "But fine, I'll give you the Prince Charming part because you did look like it.

"What you said was, 'miss, are you alright?' which was very formal of you, especially with the accent." You turned to the camera with a suggestive wiggle of your brows, making Tom drop his head shyly with a chuckle as his cheeks turned slightly pink. "And no, we didn't kiss. You don't kiss people you just met Thomas, get a hold of yourself. He helped me up and was kind enough to offer to take me to the hospital which wasn't needed since it was just a few cuts and scrapes but still insisted that I get checked. Who knew you'd be overprotective since day one," you laughed.

Tom shrugged with a chuckle. "We got to know each other while in the hospital and after she got cleaned up, I thought, I liked talking to her and I really don't want to say goodbye just yet. So, I invited her to lunch which she surprisingly said yes," he teased, sarcasm laced in his tone at his last sentence as he shot the camera a knowing and smug look. You kicked him lightly under the table, the action catching him off guard making him let out a yelp.

"It was more of me being polite because you helped and that. Didn't want to seem rude by saying no," you said, Tom gasping in full offense at your words. You let out a laugh as you rushed, "I'm kidding! Of course I wanted to go to lunch with you. It was impossible to say no because you've been really sweet and a real gentleman that day. And well, it was fun hanging out with you."

Tom smiled widely at that, nothing but pure love coating his features as he held your gaze, hand sneaking over to yours that was on the table and giving it a quick but loving squeeze.

"Where did Harrison go?" Harry wondered, the blonde boy suddenly turning silent and surely enough when you gave him a swift glance, he was already blushing.

"I had my friend with me, Tom had Harrison, you do the math," you said plainly, laughter laced in your tone.

"Oh, so you got some that day," Tuwaine chuckled, nudging the boy beside him with his elbow.

"Shut up, Tuwaine," Harrison grumbled, swatting away his friend lightly.

"But in conclusion, I am a superhero in real life," Tom stated proudly, swiping away the imaginary dust that was lying on his shoulder. He turned to the camera with a bright and wide smile. "But I do thank that bike every day."

"A bit sadistic but okay," you added, looking at Tom skeptically with a scrunch of your nose.

"No! I meant we wouldn't have gotten to know each other if that didn't happen," Tom rushed, lips turning into a pout when you only did nothing but laugh. "You're mean."

"You're just too adorable not to pick on," you giggled, his pout turning more prominent at your words.

You so badly wanted to get up off your seat and give him a proper kiss, but those things are always reserved privately. You two had never been big with public displays of affection, just the casual holding hands and occasional hugs. There are a few instances where you'll sneak a quick kiss while hanging out with friends but that's different compared to it being on tape for the whole world to see later on.

"Anyhow, what's the most embarrassing thing that you have done in front of me?" You asked back, your turn to grin wide because you know which story it was going to be, the way Tom's cheeks were quick to be dusted red was a clear indication that you were right.

"I'm smooth as hell, would never embarrass myself in front of a lady," he said casually, crossing his arms over his chest as he leaned back on his chair, all cool and suave.

"Oh shut up and tell the story," you said with a playful roll of your eyes, Tom letting out a shy chuckle before he leaned on the table.

"Right, it was our second date and I split my trousers open," he said, short and sweet, though his blush was already deepening because Tom knows the sharing won't stop there.

"Wait, how open?" Tuwaine asked.

"Like full on, centre to back, underwear and inner thighs with a bit of butt showing open. It would have been a bit better if I wore black pants—boxers to the American people—and black trousers right? But me being unlucky, I went for light-coloured denim jeans and black pants that day so it's fully obvious that I did ripped my trousers open," he chuckled shyly, hand going to rub at his shoulder, body slightly crouched as he refused to look away from his glass of gin.

"Go on Thomas, let's hear the full thing," you prodded, throwing his previous words right back at him.

He lifted his head up to shoot you a playful glare, though sat straighter anyway, elbows now on the table with his hands clasped together as he got ready to tell his story. "We were well underway our second date, a simpler one which was a walk in a somewhat less crowded park—"

"What's with you two and parks?" Harrison pointed out with a chuckle.

"Disaster just waiting to happen as you can tell," Tom laughed.

"We've steered clear from parks after all these incidents," you joked with a giggle.

"I did a flip and didn't land the right way was basically what happened," Tom continued, turning to the camera with a look of dismay. "We were walking by a couple of street dancers who were practicing a routine and they were doing all sorts of flips and tricks. She stopped walking completely and watched—wait, correction, stared at this certain bloke who was doing backflips—"

"I was not staring," you butted in. "I was just watching him do his thing and said how cool it was. And why are you making it seem like it's my fault?" you gasped, placing a hand over your heart, feign offence crossing your features.

"I'm not!" Tom laughed, hands up in surrender before he crossed his arms over his chest. "All I'm saying was that I was trying to impress you, which is why I offered to show you a flip. And as everyone in this room knows, I do the stupidest things when trying to impress a girl, especially when I like her that much."

"I was already impressed by you as is Tom, you didn't need to do a flip," you said as a matter of fact, small giggles escaping your lips as you looked at him with nothing but pure adoration. Tom felt his heart melt at the sight and more by your words. "And besides, I already knew you could do it. But somehow you felt the need to prove yourself after you saw me complimenting that dancer," you added.

"It's what you call ego, Tom," Harry laughed.

"Shut up, Harry." Tom shot his brother a glare though chuckled right after because it was in fact a bit true.

It was the silliest thing thinking back on it now, how he just said 'you want to see me do a flip?' out of the blue. You furrowed your brows at him in response, though your smile was laced with amusement. He just wanted to impress you as he'd said. And fine, maybe his ego got struck at teeny bit, and maybe he felt a little jealous that your attention got torn off of him because he truly did like you that much.

But at the end of the day, even though he had a little mishap, it all worked out so he wasn't at all complaining. "Anyway, so I did the flip, completely disregarding the fact that my shoes were slippy and my trousers were tight. I did land upright and not on my face this time so that's something," Tom chuckled. "But my right foot slipped so I was full on going on a wide split which I normally can't do since I am not flexible enough and proceeded to fall on my bum.

"The moment I heard the sound I instantly knew and just went, 'oh no' and remained on the ground because I didn't know what to do then. I was already embarrassed because I slipped, do I really want to tell her I tore open my trousers too?" Tom laughed timidly, the blush on his cheeks turning redder as he rubbed the back of his neck in utter embarrassment.

"I kind of knew right away though because I did hear something rip," you giggled. "He then just slowly stood up, hands behind, flat on his bum and said, 'I split my trousers open' in the smallest voice like a kid who's scared to tell their mum they fell or they'll get scolded. Plus his face was beet red, just like now." You pointed towards your boyfriend, who in turn stuck his tongue out at you as his blush turned into an even deeper shade of crimson.

"Thank God I wore a jacket that day and I was able to at least hide it until we got back to the car or else someone would've clocked it, took a picture, posted it on the internet and it would've made things much worse," Tom pointed out with a chuckle, glad that there was no paparazzi or it would've been a nightmare. "And the fact that you tried so hard not to laugh but still failed made me feel so embarrassed that I was quick to think that that was it. I ruined my chances, no more third date," he added as he turned to you with a small pout.

"I couldn't help laughing because it was the most adorable thing how you went from being all confident and cocksure on doing a flip to this shy boy who refused to look me in the eyes without turning even redder," you said, pure amusement laced in your tone. "But no, that incident made me like you more, it was just too endearing. Third date never left the table after that," you concluded with a sweet smile which only made Tom's grin grow wider.

"Even though she laughed, she was so sweet and kind about it. We had to cut our date shor—actually no, we didn't. We went back to your place and decided to do a movie marathon instead," Tom said fondly, face glowing with joy as the memory brought nothing but warmth across his chest.

"Yeah, with you wearing a pair of my sweatpants," you giggled, mirroring his expression as your mind recalled the sweet moment of you and him, simply cuddled up on the couch.

"And that's on getting the girl by splitting your trousers open," Tom said with a smug smile, pointing at the camera as he shot it a knowing look with a wriggle of his brows.

"And getting the boy by falling off a bike," you added, doing exactly what he did as you turned to face the lens.

"Look at us," Tom gushed, looking back at you with a smile, reaching across the table to take your hand in his. "Hey, look at us."

"Look at us. Who would've thought?" you giggled, giving his hand a squeeze in return.

You were always quick to catch on what he was trying to do that Tom couldn't help but smile widely, heart melting ten times over at the thought of you knowing him so well. "Not me," Tom chuckled, letting go of your hand and holding up his palm for a high-five to which you gladly obliged with laughs of your own.

"You two are made for each other," Harry chuckled with a shake of his head, now just getting that you two were recreating the famous Paul Rudd meme.

"My turn right?" Tom asked. You nodded with a hum as you pushed the pile of cards towards him. He let out a loud scoff once he read the question, his reaction making you raise a brow in both curiosity and slight dread. "Be honest," he said as he looked up from the paper, gaze landing on you. "Who do you love more, me," he paused for dramatic effect, narrowing his eyes at you before continuing, "Or Tessa?"

You let out a small groan as you hang your head low, fingers tracing the side of your cold glass. You let out a sigh of defeat before you met Tom's expectant gaze. "I can't possibly answer that question," you grumbled, bringing the glass up to your lips as you took a swift drink before placing it back down.

"That was such a tiny sip," Harrison pointed out.

"Alright, alright, I guess we can tell who the bad influence here is," you said with a teasing roll of your eyes, but still took another drink anyway, taking in more of it this time around. You just want to play the game fair and square. "You actually made that really well. It's really good," you hummed at Tom as you placed your drink back down, the lad grinning widely in response.

"Why thank you, darling," Tom crooned, voice smooth with a pride-filled smile, pushing over the pile of cards back in the middle of the table to get you to ask the next question.

"Okay, who wrote this?" You turned to the boys behind the camera with a raise of your brow. "If the alcohol wasn't going to do it, then this will definitely get the video restricted, unless you're going to bleep some words out?" You turned to Harry.

"I've got that covered," Harry laughed.

Glancing back at the card you had on hand, you asked, "If our sex life was porn, what genre would it be?" You looked up at Tom to see him try his best to hold back a smirk.

"Nope, not answering that," he laughed with a shake of his head as he lifted his glass off the table. "Mainly because there are too many genres that it would fit for me to only pick one," Tom muttered softly against his drink as he looked at you through his lashes. His words were muffled but you still heard it, you were closer to him after all. You felt your cheeks heat up at that, even more so when your man shot you a teasing wink before downing the shot of gin not long after.

Tom set his glass down and reached over to take another card. "What does your family think of me?" he asked with a clear of his throat.

"Well..." You slowly dragged your drink closer to you, Tom's mouth falling agape that you couldn't help but burst into a hearty laugh. "I'm kidding! You already know how much they love you," you said. "I mean, my parents call him 'son' so." You shrugged as you turned to the camera. Tom puffed out his chest all proud with a very smug smile on his lips. You rolled your eyes, sighing as you added, "They probably even love you more than they love me."

Tom chuckled, "My family loves you more than they love me, too—"

"I can vouch for that," Harry intervened.

"Thanks, Harry," Tom said sarcastically, flashing his brother a forced smile. Turning back to you, he finished, "So, I guess we're even."

You could only nod with a soft giggle, reaching over to the stack of cards to keep the pace going. "Lads! What's with these kinds of questio—you know what, I don't even expect any less from you guys," you sighed, pursing your lips as you re-read the question again before sitting straight up and looked into Tom's eyes. "What would you do if you caught me watching porn?" you asked.

"Watch it with you and help get it done, duh?" he answered without hesitation, leaning back on his chair as he crossed his arms over his chest. "Have done a couple times actually," Tom murmured, somewhat to himself, though not really since everyone in the room—and pretty sure the camera—heard it.

"Tom!" you hissed.

You felt your body tingle, legs instinctively closing together as the countless moments it happened replayed itself inside your brain. Although what he said wasn't false, it wasn't the full truth either. He didn't exactly catch you red handed, never did since you don't watch porn often.

All you did was asked him—merely out of curiosity—what type he mostly watches. Your question sparked an idea in his head which led to you sitting in between his legs, bare back against his naked chest as the laptop sat right in front of you both with the video of his choice.

Tom then made his way with you while you watched, making sure you never take your eyes off the couple on screen or else. He was always fully in control over you every time you do it, his fingers sometimes delicate, mostly rough, touch hot and heavy all over your skin, lips warm on your neck, teeth sharp against your bare shoulder as he brings you to the edge over and over and over with nothing but his hands. And once the video ends, Tom will take it upon himself to re-enact the whole of it with you—if you could still take it of course—bringing what was on screen to real life, full recreation from start to finish.

Best believed you're properly blissed out at the stop of every play.

Your boyfriend's eyes widened once he realized the actual volume of his voice, face turning a deep shade of red, sitting straight abruptly as he rushed, "No! Wait—dammit." Tom casted his eyes down shyly when the boys let out exaggerated gasps and sounds of disapproval, a telltale sign that they already heard it. "I'm sorry, darling." He met your gaze again as he shot you a sheepish smile, his head tilted to the side guiltily to which you only responded with a shake of your head.

Typical Thomas.

"Bleurgh, too much info," Harrison gagged, the other boys following suit with their own sounds of repulsion.

"Oh fuck off you divs. You guys wrote the questions so obviously, you wanted to find out," Tom countered, shooting the lads a glare each.

"We didn't expect you to actually answer it!" Harry defended.

"We're cutting that whole part out, no way that's going up online," you grumbled, eyes staring at nothing but your drink as you tried to hide the obvious embarrassment that's coated your features.

Tom reached across the table to give your hand a squeeze, you meeting his gaze to see him mouth a gentle 'I'm sorry.' You flashed him a sweet smile, squeezing his hand in return to tell him that it was alright. It wasn't live so there wasn't any real harm done, aside from future jokes from the boys. That you can deal with than having that confidential information on the internet which will then follow you around for the rest of eternity.

Letting go of your hand, Tom sat straighter and turned to the camera. "If you guys are wondering why there's a jump cut and my face is suddenly so red, it's because I spilled something I shouldn't have that we had to cut it out. And no, it's something you'll never find out," he chuckled shyly, knowing that once the video goes out, fans are going to be so annoyed and will pester him—and everyone in the room—nonstop to try and find out what was cut.

Better that, than embarrassing you in front of millions though, so he'll deal with them no problem. Because as promised, if you weren't comfortable with it staying in the video, then it gets cut out, no questions asked. You and what you're comfortable with always come first in Tom's book.

"Yet again, thank God we didn't do this live," you muttered with a playful roll of your eyes.

Tom shot you one last apologetic smile before he cleared his throat, "Right, moving on." He shifted in his seat and took another card from the pile. "What's the one thing you'd change about me?" he asked.

"Your height," you answered without missing a beat. You chewed on your lip to suppress a grin but still failed miserably, especially when Tom looked at you with his jaw hanging and his eyes wide open.

A chorus of 'ooh's erupted from the boys which only prompted a laugh from you, the joyous sound growing louder when they started to rub it to Tom even more.

"Pfft, apply ice on the burnt area," Harry said as he blew out his cheeks.

"Mate, she's just bodied you with that," Tuwaine tutted at Tom, rising up from his seat soon after to offer you a high-five. You gladly obliged with a laugh, Tom gawking at you with utmost betrayal on his face.

"You're lucky you're very cute, especially when you laugh," Tom grumbled as he shot you a playful glare. The crinkles on the corner of your eyes deepened as you only smiled brightly at him with a tilt of your head, which honestly made you look even more endearing. He could never be mad at you, too whipped to hold a grudge no matter how much you tease him. And besides, that's all there is to it, nothing but teasing jokes and banter.

"If I were you, Tom, I'd start taking those growth pills before she starts to question why she's even with you," Harrison proposed jokingly which earned boisterous laughter from the rest of the gang.

"You lot are so fucking overdramatic. I'm not that short," Tom quipped with a roll of his eyes, gaze landing back on you with his famous pout now in play yet again. "And babe, it's a truth or drink video, not a roast me video," he stated, palms flat on cool marble as he looked at you with puppy-dog eyes.

"I'm joking! I'm joking," you rushed with a giggle. "I wouldn't change a single thing. You know I love you, just the way you are," you sang the last line, though your voice held nothing but sincerity as you reached over to give his hand a loving squeeze. Tom nodded with a sigh, though never did he doubt your words, knowing it deep in his bones that physical traits would never outweigh how much you love him, no matter what.

"Right, let's keep this going," you said as you took another card. "Who is smarter, me or you?" you asked.

"Me," Tom said proudly.

"Well, that's a lie," you objected.

Tom couldn't help but laugh at that, nodding at you as he chuckled, "It's you, obviously. Have you seen the last video?"

"Hmm, I don't know, I think Tom's smarter. I mean, you decided to date him, Y/N, which isn't exactly the brightest decision," Harry inferred, earning a loud gasp from his older brother.

"Excellent point," you agreed, your boyfriend's head whipping towards your direction with nothing but absolute offense written on his face.

"Babe! You're supposed to be on my side!" Tom exclaimed. "Why are we roasting me all of a sudden?" he complained.

"You're just too fun to pick on," you laughed, Tom's bottom lip jutting out at your words. "Especially when you do that, too cute," you pointed out, the apples of Tom's cheek turning pink as a smile grew on his lips at the compliment. "But I am smarter," you concluded, shooting the camera a wink.

"Will not refute," Tom chuckled, keeping the flow of the game as he took another card. "If you weren't with me, who of my brothers would you consider dating?" he said, voice pitching higher at the last few words. A look of downright disgust covered Tom's face immediately as he looked at the boys behind the camera who were snickering like the mischievous little shits that they are. "You lot are grim."

You matched Tom's expression, scrunching your nose as you shook your head quickly. Having been with Tom long enough, you now see the three of the Holland boys as your own brothers, so the mere thought of dating any of them is just—

"I'm not even going to think about it," you grumbled as you took a sip of your cocktail and then picked a card right away. "Who's the celebrity who you were the most disappointed with when you met them?" you continued swiftly, a smile on your lips as you looked at Tom who let out a sigh.

"You know I can't answer that," he stated in a matter-of-fact tone, your smile growing wider as you picked up the bottle of gin and refilled his glass. "Thank you, darling," he chuckled with a shake of his head, taking a drink right after.

"Is there anyone in my friend group, famous or not, that you do not like?" Tom continued with a raise of his brow, gaze steady on you.

You emptied your glass—that was still half full—without a single word and placed it back down with a small burp. "Oh, excuse me," you cleared your throat with a laugh.

Tom's brows furrowed at you in mere curiosity, gesturing for your glass so he can remake you another drink. You slid it over to him with a soft 'thank you' and a sweet smile. He started opening up the bottle of juice though his eyes were still on you, narrowed in pure skepticism.

"Who?"

"Not part of the question, Tom," you said, flashing him an innocent smile

"I know who it is," Harry coughed fakely.

"Me too," Tuwaine added with a fake cough of his own.

"It's Harrison because he's trying to take you away from me," you commented, laughing at how the blonde lad gasped in utter protest.

"That's a lie because I know who it is too," Harrison defended.

"So, everyone knows except me?" Tom mused, rolling his eyes in the process.

"What else is new?" you giggled with a shrugged, Tom only sighing as he shot you yet another pout. This boy never ceases to use it since he knows you always swoon whenever he does. 'I'll tell you later,' you mouthed, making him nod with a proud smile.

You gently leaned back on your seat, closing your eyes when you felt a little woozy. You took in slow, deep breaths, the marble cold against your palms as your body started to grow warmer from head to toe.

Maybe downing that drink wasn't the best idea.

"You okay, darling?" Tom asked sweetly, tilting his head at you in worry as he went to take your hand in his. His brows knitted together when your skin felt unusually warm in his palms.

"Yeah," you giggled, opening your eyes to meet his concern-filled brown ones, flashing him a reassuring smile and a nod to match as you gave his hand a squeeze. "Just the alcohol slowly kicking in."

"Want to take a minute, sweetheart?"

"No, I'm good. Go on and ask the question bubba," you prompted as you beamed at him, Tom's heart melting at the beautiful curve on your features and more by the sound of that sweet nickname. Although, he knew that you'd reached your calm before the storm.

You're always smiley and extra sweet when you start to get a little tipsy. But from here on out, especially if you decide to take even more alcohol, you start switching from calm to giddily energetic. That's when the words would start flowing out your lips before your brain could even register what you've just said.

Tom replaced your hand with a white card once he was sure you were fine. A cheeky grin erupted on his face as he asked, "What's your favourite sex position?"

You pursed your lips, eyes landing on the ceiling, fingers drumming on the marble surface of the table as you pondered on it for a second. Tom watched you intently, a soft chuckle escaping him when you met his gaze again with a sweet yet shy smile.

"I've got three though," you said, mostly to him but in a not-so-hush tone. Your mind and your mouth don't cooperate sometimes when there's alcohol in the mix.

"Different one for a different mood," Tom hummed with a smirk, finishing up your drink with a squeeze of lime, mixing it up before sliding it back towards you. "Just say one or take a drink, darling."

"I need to slow down with drinking or else I'll be saying much worse things. I can already feel my filter shutting down," you breathed out, tilting your head to the side as you gazed at Tom for a bit of help. "But do I really want this out in the world?"

"Oh, go on Y/N, live a little," Harrison prodded with nothing but utter mischief in his eyes.

You don't know why but somehow, Harrison words were the last straw for that burst of confidence to suddenly overflow. Boldness coated your every nerve as you squeezed your eyes shut and straight up blurted,

"Doggy."

Tom's eyes grew wide, both of his brows rising as he looked at you surprised. Yes, doggy was one of your—and his—favourites, he already knew that, what surprised him was you actually saying it out loud. Although he was swift to turn cocky as he leaned back on his seat, arms crossed over his chest while he kept his gaze steady on you.

As you peaked one eye, you saw that certain smirk of his now playing on his pink lips, one you only ever see privately. You felt your face heat up at that, added from the alcohol and embarrassment. The warmth was quick to spread to the rest of your body though, with the way he was looking at you, it was so hard for it not too. And as your eyes fully soaked him in, gaze traveling from his handsome face sporting that teasing smirk to his bulging biceps, the temperature could only rise. Your senses was now somewhat heightened that you were able to notice every single thing that made your man so fucking attractive and downright hot.

Since when did his hoodie grow even tighter? And damn, why is it so hot all of a sudden? It's probably the alcohol, or mainly just Tom, or simply both.

"Favourite type of porn!" you hear someone from the gang call out—probably Harrison since he's been causing trouble from the very start—interrupting your thoughts. With the alcohol in your system, just as expected, your brain genuinely forgot to take control of your tongue before you could even tell yourself: 'don't!'

"Sometimes hardcore," you let out, slapping your hand over your mouth immediately as your eyes grew wide. You quickly met Tom's eyes, his brown orbs glowing with shock, amusement and a sprinkle of lust. He gave you a soft nod with a soft smile in response, confirming that yes, you said it out loud, and yes it was already too late. "Oh no, this was what I meant when I needed to slow down on alcohol," you groaned, rubbing your hand over your warm face before looking back across your man with a pout.

"Aye! Hardcore doggy yeah?" Harrison cheered teasingly, moving towards Tom and giving his best friend a pat on the shoulder. Tom threw his head back with a laugh, face red but the look of utmost pride was also there. Harrison swiftly offered his fist to Tom, to which the brunette gladly indulged, their knuckles colliding as chuckles escaped the two mates.

You let out a choked laugh as your eyes widened in surprise, jaw going slack with your face heating up even more. "Did you guys just fist bump to that?"

"I mean." Tom shrugged, throwing his hands up with the smuggest grin, causing you to shake your head dejectedly with a groan. You shot Harrison a pointed glare when he went back to his seat, still snickering to his heart's content as if his master plan was in the works.

What a little shit.

"I'm definitely not going to let my parents watch this video," you mumbled with a roll of your eyes.

"I've got a question for Tom though," Tuwaine started, though the glimmer in his eyes told you it wasn't a clean one. "Do you grab it or do you smack it?"

Tom wheezed before erupting into a very rowdy laugh, hands slapping on his thigh as his body shook in nothing but pure enjoyment, his face red from a mixture of embarrassment, glee and the alcohol.

"Oh my—right! Next question!" you squeaked, not giving your boyfriend any time to answer as you attempted to swiftly move on.

"Wait, wait," Tom breathed out as he slowly calmed down, getting up from his seat as he went over to your side. "Harry stop recording for a sec," he called out to his younger brother before he gestured for you to turn until your back was facing the camera.

Tom crouched down in front of you, hands on your knees with a sweet, reassuring smile on his lips. "We'll edit out the parts you're not comfortable with to stay in the vid, alright?" he stated softly.

You nodded with a smile of your own, taking his hand in yours as you played with his fingers. "I'm not opposed to keeping the last two questions since everyone has their favourite position and type of porn. It's normal," you hummed, tilting your head at him as you added, "You saying you've helped me with, you know, that was much more private though, 'cause it's our thing."

"I know, I'm sorry, love," Tom apologized, voice soft but coated with sincerity as his hand went up to cup your face lovingly, brown eyes gazing up into yours with just the same emotions. "We're cutting that part out, I promise."

"But you think your fans would take these questions well?" you queried, leaning into his touch in a way that made Tom's heart do flips inside his chest.

He nodded. "Yeah, I think it's fine. The video is going to be age restricted anyway. And besides, we're both adults, so there's nothing wrong with it," he explained. You hummed in agreement, leaning your head on his hand as you closed your eyes with a soft sigh, your skin very warm against his palm. Tom moved closer to give your lips a sweet peck. "Want some water angel?"

"No, I'm good." You smiled, Tom nodding as he mirrored your grin, giving your lips another kiss before he stood back to his full height and then sat back on his seat.

Shooting Harry the go signal to start recording again, Tom chuckled, "Sorry, needed to cool down for a sec after that." He turned towards the camera, tugging at the collar of his hoodie as he blew out his cheeks to get a point across.

You could only roll your eyes at your man, his laugh growing louder at your reaction. Swiftly taking a card from the pile, you continued with the game. "Is this going to be the theme from here on out, lads?" you asked, eyeing the boys behind the camera suspiciously before you turned back to Tom. "Is there something in the bedroom you'd like to try that you haven't told me?"

Tom's cheeks turned even redder at the question, completely shying away now as his hand went to rub at his shoulder. "I can't think of one right now," he muttered as he looked at you sheepishly. "But no, I'm not answering that since we talk about that off camera anyway," Tom settled with a timid chuckle, refilling his glass and taking a drink of the gin soon after.

"Your turn," you giggled, pushing the pile towards him.

"Oh, okay. What a way to shift the topic," Tom breathed out, scanning the card one more time as he sat up straighter. "If I was in a coma how long would you wait for me?" he asked, meeting your gaze with a tender smile.

"I'll keep waiting for you until you wake up, no matter how long," you answered, without even a single inch of doubt, despite the slight shake in your voice as your eyes started to well up. "Never giving up on you."

"Darling," Tom cooed softly with a pout, the screeching sound of his chair echoing around the space as he pushed his seat back. He went back over to your side quickly, remaining on his feet as he leaned down to engulf you in a tight and warm embrace, swaying you side to side in the most comforting way as he whispered sweet nothings against your hair.

You buried your face in his chest with a shaky breath, the material of his hoodie soft against your cheek. You willed your brain not to think much of it, to not dwell on that thought and focus more on the Tom's warmth that's coated you right now. Or else you'll end up a bawling mess, and with the alcohol in your system, it's not a good idea to start crying now.

Your man pulled away gently with a charming smile, cupping your face with both hands as he towered over your seated form. "I'd do the exact same, just so you know," he hummed, brown eyes locked with yours, his thumbs caressing your cheeks fondly before he dipped his head to capture your lips in a loving kiss. You let out a sweet sigh as you melt at the feeling of his soft lips on yours, mind and heart at ease at familiar warmth. The gesture wasn't fully caught on camera though given that you were turned at the opposite direction.

"I love you," you hummed against his lips.

Tom chuckled sweetly, giving you a few more pecks on the lips before pulling away completely, staring right into your eyes as he whispered, "And I love you."

With that he went back to his seat again, flashing you one of his many charming grins before he turned to the group behind the camera.

"You lot are onto something I can tell," Tom said as he raised a brow at the lads who suspiciously grew quiet, looking everywhere in the room but at you two.

Not thinking much of it, you swiftly took another card and read the question. "What would you do if you suddenly get a call that I was gone?" you trailed off at the end of your sentence, brows knitting together as you turned to the group behind the camera. "Guys, this is a cruel question."

"Oh," Tom faltered, smile slowly slipping away from his face as he casted his eyes at his drink.

"Tom, you don't have to answer it," you called out softly, frown deep on your lips as you reached over to take both his hands in yours. But it was already too late when he squeezed your hand tightly, lifting his head back up to meet your gaze and you felt your heart ache. That's when you saw that his mind was already there, brown orbs glossed up as he let out a shaky breath.

"I'd literally shut down," he croaked. "I-I don't know what'd I do if that happens. I just can't imagine my life without you. I—" he stopped, head dropping as his voice broke.

"Oh Tom, come here," you cooed as you immediately got out of your seat and rounded the table, turning him around and away from shot for a bit of privacy. You squatted in between his legs that were spread apart to be much closer to him, gently cupping his face with both your hands so that you were now within eye level. "Hey, look at me," you whispered when you were met by eyes that were screwed shut.

With a deep intake of breath, Tom willed his eyes to open. He looked at you with a small smile playing on his lips, heart steadying at the sight of your beautiful orbs boring into his own. He leaned forward to close the distance between you two, just so he could feel your lips on his. Tom badly needed to. A soft satisfied sigh erupted out your chest as your hand took home on his warm cheek.

"I'm still here bubba. I'm not going anywhere," you hummed against his lips before giving him warm kisses all over his face that made him stifle out a small laugh. You pulled away a little with a loving smile, wiping away the few tears that sat on his skin with your thumb, your touch gentle and warm.

"I love you so much, you know that?" Tom whispered as he looked at you fondly, nudging the tip of his nose with yours in a wholesome manner.

"I love you too, you sweet, soft boy," you giggled, placing a sweet peck on his lips before pulling him in for a hug. You lifted your head up to shoot each of the boys a sharp glare, the three cowering away in their seats as they each said their soft apologies.

Pulling away with a smile, you cupped Tom's face with a hum, "Better?"

"Loads," Tom sighed with a sweet smile, leaning in for one last peck before he lets you go back to your seat. "You purposely put that in there to make me cry didn't you?" Tom spoke, narrowing his eyes at boys who only shrugged in feign innocence. "You lot are evil I tell you."

"Now let's get back on a lighter note!" you exclaimed, pushing the cards towards Tom since it was his turn to ask.

Tom pursed his lips as his brows furrowed at the question. "If you could sleep with any person in the world, who would it be?" he wondered, eyes locking with yours in warning. "Now, careful with your answer, love," he hummed.

"Is that a threat Holland?" you challenged with a raise of your brow.

"I'm just saying, I may already know or will meet this person in the futur—"

"Chris Hemsworth," you blurted, Tom's mouth falling open as he gawked at you in shock. "I'm kidding," you rushed with a hearty laugh.

"Are you though?" Tom doubted, squinting at you suspiciously.

You bit your bottom lip as you held his gaze, Tom letting out a loud gasp when you suddenly took a drink all while maintaining eye contact with him.

"I'm going to have a word with you later missy," he grumbled, voice suddenly an octave deeper, somewhat a soft growl, one that you felt down to your core.

You shifted in your seat with a clear of your throat, shooting him an innocent smile as you said, "To be fair, you did say—publicly may I add—that you'd sleep with Hemsworth too when you did fuck, marry and kill with the three Chrises so, roll the clip!"

Tom shook his head at you with a playful roll of his eyes. "Touché," he sighed, brows furrowed in confusion when you suddenly covered your mouth.

"Oops, I just realized I said the F-word, sorry Harry," you said meekly, a certain smile on your lips which guaranteed that you were now dancing onto drunken territory. Tom knows you like the back of his hand, if the way you were smiling wasn't enough then, the simple look in your eyes would let him know that the alcohol has fully hit you this time.

"It's alright. One bleep word is nothing compared to last week's video. And it's not like this video has been clean anyway," the young twin chuckled.

"So, Fuck Hemsworth, who are you marrying and who are you killing?" Tuwaine asked.

"Marry Evans, Kill Pratt," you answered promptly.

Tom leaned back on his seat as he crossed his arms over his chest, running his tongue over his teeth slowly all while staring you down. "That's a quick answer Y/N," he hummed, shooting you a teasing glare.

"Oh please, yours was quick too, Thomas," you retorted, crossing your arms over your chest as you mirrored him, never backing down from his stare even though it was making you feel certain things.

"Wait, if you're marrying Evans and killing Pratt, and I'm marrying Pratt and killing Evans, does that mean we're set out to kill each other's husband?" Tom started as he leaned forward and towards the table.

"So, if you were successful in killing Evans, and I was successful in killing Pratt, that means we're both widowed," you continued, laying your hands now flat on the marble surface.

"Meaning there's still a chance that we will still end up together. Meant to be if you ask me," Tom concluded, lifting up a hand.

You moved forward to give him a high-five, missing his hand by a lot which made you let out a loud, hearty laugh, Tom following suit with laughs of his own.

"What are you two on?" Harrison said with a crinkle of his nose.

"Alcohol," you and Tom answered at the same time. Both of your mouths turned into the shape of O's as you looked at each other properly delighted.

"Jinx!" both of you exclaimed in unison. "Jinx again!"

"Our mental synchronization; can have but one explanation," you and Tom sang in harmony, never breaking your gaze as you both smiled proudly.

"You—"

"And I—"

"Were—"

"Just—"

"Meant to be!" You two ended with fits of laughter, raising your hands to go for another high five. You missed Tom's hand again which only made you wheeze, tears of joy brimming in yours and his eyes as you tried for the second time, both of you cheering loudly when it finally landed.

"Cringe, really made for each other," Harry gagged teasingly with a grimace to match.

And then Harrison intervened. "How about fuck, marry, kill, Tom Hiddleston, Tom Felton and," he paused, grin turning wider like a Cheshire cat as he wiggled his eyebrows at you. "Tom Holland?"

"That's not part of the game," you protested with a pout.

"Answer the question, darling," Tom encouraged, looking at you expectantly.

"I'm taking a shot," you muttered, going for your drink but before you could even do so, Tom had already taken it far away from your reach. "Hey!" you whined.

Tom chuckled softly as he shook his head no. "You said it's not part of the game so no, you have to answer," he said. "And that's enough alcohol for you, my love," he cooed, tilting his head at you knowingly with a sweet smile. If Tom will let you continue with the drinking then you'll surely be complaining nonstop about the throbbing headache you'll get and the constant nausea after all this.

You sat back on your chair with your bottom lip jutted out, arms crossed over your chest to match, much like a child as you started to think about your answer. Although the process took way longer than you'd expect it to be and the boys were quick to notice.

"Uh oh, she's having a hard time," Harry teased when a few long seconds has gone by and you still haven't given an answer.

"I don't know how I feel about the hesitation here," Tom admitted as he looked at you curiously, brows furrowing with a chuckle when you were still deep in thought after a few seconds more.

"She genuinely is having a hard time," Tuwaine laughed.

"This is so unfair," you grumbled dejectedly as you looked at your man with a sweet, adorable pout, silently asking for help.

"What'd you do with me first to make things easier," Tom offered with a chuckle.

As if there was a hidden message to his words—there wasn't—your face suddenly lit up, slapping your palms on the table excitedly as you sat straighter. "You know what, kill the other two and I'll fuck and marry you," you declared heartily, eyes locked securely with Tom's with the proudest grin playing on your lips.

Tom's heart did somersaults at the mere fact of you wanting to marry him, grin wide and bright as he stared into your orbs, utmost love glowing in yours that was wholesomely mirrored by his brown ones.

It wasn't long until Tom felt his blood rush down though, heat dancing on his skin as his brain got occupied with the thought of you fucking him too. Certain memories flooded his mind, one after the other that it was getting harder for him to stay calm in his seat.

You are honestly giving him a whiplash with how you make him feel one emotion to another in a span of seconds, though Tom wasn't at all complaining.

"That's not how the game works!" Harrison exclaimed.

"I'm pretty happy with that answer," Tom shrugged with a wide, cocky grin, eyes never leaving yours as he raised a brow at you suggestively. You held his gaze with a tilt of your head, bottom lip caught between your teeth to try and stop your smile from growing.

The interaction didn't go unnoticed by Harry though. "Okay, stop eye-fucking each other you horny teenagers," the younger brother complained.

Tom laughed at that, shifting in his seat as he turned towards the camera. "On that note, we're ending the video there. This has been Tom Holland," he paused, giving you a nod as a cue.

"And Mrs. Holland," you blurted at the camera with a smile, eyes widening once you realised the choice of words you've just used. "Oh wait! No! Fuc—I don't mean no as in 'no,' I meant not yet," you fumbled. "We're not even engaged yet! Don't start with the headlines you." You pointed at the camera in warning.

He shook his head with a chuckle, red tinting his cheeks but pure admiration glowed in his eyes. "You own my fucking heart, you know that? You make me melt all the damn time," Tom gushed through gritted teeth, and it was taking a whole lot of his self-control to not jump over the table and just kiss you senseless. You felt your heart grow at his words but you could only bury your face in your hands with a groan of pure embarrassment. "She's drunk, my apologies," Tom added with a laugh as he turned towards the camera.

"Tipsy, there's a difference," you corrected as you shot him a glare.

Tom chuckled, smiling at you widely before turning back to the lens. "Anyway, see you on the next one and peace!" he finished with the sign and then a salute, Harry throwing out an upturned thumb to signal cut.

Once he saw that the camera was off, Tom was out of his seat in record speed, moving over to your now standing form as he swiftly wrapped both his arms around your waist and crashed his lips onto yours with a low groan. His arms tightened around you as he relished the feeling of finally having you so close.

You giggled against the kiss, resting your arms over his shoulders as you leaned back on the table to keep your balance, your bum half-rested on the marble while your foot stayed steady on the floor, legs apart so that Tom can situate himself between them easily.

"So, fuck and marry me huh?" Tom hummed deeply against your mouth, playfully nibbling at your bottom lip before pulling away so he can see your gorgeous face fully.

"Out of all the things I've said, that's what stuck with you?" you giggled with a shake of your head.

"I mean, you fucking me will never fail to sound very hot, reminds me of the few times you did." Tom wriggled his brows at you suggestively, hands giving your waist as teasing squeeze. "Though I don't know which one's hotter, that or you marrying me," he said with the proudest smirk.

"Will you two take this somewhere else?" Harry complained, always the last one to be left in the room given that he's mostly in-charge with taking care of the camera. Harrison and Tuwaine were already gone, continuing whatever they had to do that day.

"Don't think that would make a difference though," Tom chuckled smugly, looking back at you with a knowing grin.

"Which reminds me how we need to sound proof the fucking walls you nasty rabbits."

"I was kidding. We're not that loud fuck off," Tom remarked, rolling his eyes at his brother.

And to prove how wrong Tom's point was, Harrison suddenly started moaning so piercingly right in the next room, his voice a bit muffled but you can still hear him, loud and obnoxious.

"Fuck! Love! Fuck yes! Just like that, darling! Shit baby I'm gonna—"

"Fuck off Harrison you fucking twat!" Tom yelled at the top of his lungs, the blonde lad's boisterous and annoying laugh echoing soon after.

Tom turned crimson red as the embarrassment coated him from head to toe, head dropping for him to hide his face on the crook of your neck with a groan. You let out a soft giggle, hand landing on the back of his head as you ran your fingers through his hair comfortingly. Your face was warm as you were embarrassed just the same, although there was more of a sense of pride on your behalf because yes, Tom does get a bit loud sometimes, all courtesy to you.

It wasn't always of course, both of you aren't evil enough to torture the lads that much. Aside from the fact that Tom is rarely even home—meaning you don't do the deed that much in this house—the two of you had made a pact to make sure that you're completely alone before properly going at it. Admittedly, it does get a bit hard to keep the noise down sometimes, so the boys have to endure it every now and then. They do get back at you guys soon after as they are quick to be little shits with the teasing and dirty jokes, much like now.

"Maybe we do need to soundproof our walls," you teased once your man pulled away to look at you with a soft sigh, hands running up and down your waist sweetly.

"Or we could finally look for our own place to move in?" Tom proposed with a charming smile, your heart melting at the sight and skipping a beat at his words.

Granted, you've been with Tom for a fair three and a half years already, but neither of you had gone to take that step of actually living fully on your own where it's just no one but him and you in your own home. You've been living in this house for roughly the same time—maybe a year or two less—and you've got no problem living with the lads, you consider them as your brothers now. But you won't deny that having a place exclusively for you and Tom only would be pure bliss.

Of course you've talked about getting your own place and neither of you were opposed to it. It all just came down to Tom being constantly busy and barely even home. You'd rather live with the boys for the mean time than sulk all alone in a house while slowly being buried in the emotions of missing your boyfriend.

Tom also wanted to be there for the most of it—choosing and buying furniture, decorating a thing or two, moving, the likes—but with his schedule, it was hard to find the perfect time.

But now he's promised you that he'd slow down for a bit.

He genuinely hasn't done anything but work nonstop. It was just projects upon projects with only so little breaks in between, a month if he's lucky. Tom is one hardworking man, that's one of the many things you love about him, but he sometimes doesn't realize when he's pushing himself too far.

That's when you step in.

You'd encouraged him to take a breather, even if it's just for half a year or so but you never did pester him about it constantly as you weren't one to take him away from doing what he loves. Unless it gets way out of hand, then that's when you'll be putting your foot down. You know he'll do it whenever he's ready to slow down and now with most of his projects wrapped, he's finally decided that it was the right time to take that much needed break.

"I love the sound of that," you giggled, treading your fingers through his hair before tracing it down his chiseled jaw. "Not as much as I love the sound of you moaning though," you hummed teasingly.

"Well then, let's find our own place so you can hear me moan all for you and as loud as you want, darling," Tom purred lowly, his bottom lip caught between his teeth as his darkened orbs bored into yours, his hands sliding down to rest on the swell of your bum. He fondled the flesh hotly as he started to lean closer to capture your lips. But before Tom could even do so a loud voice made you both jump away from each other.

"For fuck's sake guys! I'm still fucking here!" Harry yelled, throwing both his hands in the air in downright annoyance and disgust as he screwed his eyes shut. "Go to your fucking room for the love of my sanity!"

You didn't even get a chance to apologise to the young lad as Tom swiftly grabbed your hand and rushed to your shared bedroom.

Nothing happened though apart from a couple minutes of making out, Tom deciding not to take it further given that you were all tipsy and intoxicated. Him deciding since you were persistent on saying you were fine even though you were giggling nonstop, easily tickled no matter how feather-like his kisses were. Not to mention how you could barely even keep your eyes open. So, both of you ended up taking a warm bath and then a nap right after that, instead.

Although the minute you sobered up, Tom made sure you weren't at all quiet this time around. It was due to the pent up tension that's been building since that somewhat steamy Q&A. And maybe, just maybe to get back at the boys a teeny bit for being little shits with both the teasing jokes and the dirty questions.

The two of you went out of your bedroom only at dinner time, stepping foot in the dining area where Harry, Tuwaine and Harrison were all situated. You felt the embarrassment coat every inch of your body when you took sight of the boys, more specifically, their expressions. Tom, on the other hand, had the cockiest smirk playing on his lips as he held his head high, tauntingly chuckling at his mates.

The three lads were sitting around the table with nothing but grimaces and downright disgust on their faces as they all grumbled in unison,

"Rabbits."

-:-:-:-:-

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