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#one of my new stories coming in the next few weeks is going to be something akin to this post
musings-of-a-rose · 3 days
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Jump Then Fall - Chapter 4
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Pairing: Javier Peña x ofc “Vanessa Morales”
Word Count: 5000
Rating: M for mature - 18+ only!
Warnings: Please be aware there is an 11 year age gap. Mature themes and some canon mentioned. Just like ao3, “creator chooses not to use warnings.” If you click Keep Reading, that means you agree that you’re the age to handle mature themes. Also by clicking Keep Reading, you understand warnings may not be complete in order to avoid spoilers for the story.
Notes: Well, we've finally reached the end! I'm so sorry this took forever to get out. I really do love these 2 and would welcome any asks about them! When the story starts, Vanessa is 19 and Javier is 30 but in this part, Javier is 36 and Vanessa is 25.
**Shoutout to @vanemando15 for listening and bouncing ideas from me, and for her guidance with being a Latina herself. Without her, this wouldn’t even be a thing, just another line on my WIP spreadsheet. And also to my husband, who is also Latino and answered any questions I had (along with taking me to Colombia back in 2014). And to @wyn-n-tonic, who listened to my rambles and insecurities about writing an oc in first person.
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Jump Then Fall Masterlist
General Masterlist
Javier Peña Masterlist
<<Chapter 3<<
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I don't see him until lunch the next day as he and Chucho had run into town for a few things. They both come in with some grocery bags and set them on the counter.
"They were out of broccoli so I got green beans. Will that work?" Chucho asks as he hands me a bag of fresh cut green beans.
I take them with a smirk. "Why do I get the feeling they weren't out and you just didn't want to eat the broccoli?"
"She's got you there, pops." Javier chuckles as Chucho punches his arm.
"Pendejo."
"Alright, alright. Get cleaned up and I'll make you both some lunch. Extra broccoli for you, old man."
Chucho hides a smile, grumbling as he heads upstairs to his bathroom. Javier stays in the kitchen with me, helping to unload the bags.
"New relaxation thing?" I raise my eyebrows at him.
"What?"
I gesture towards his mouth. "The chewing gum."
"Oh. Nope. Giving up the other one. I'm trying the Nicorette thing."
I close the refrigerator door and look at him. "Really?"
He shrugs. "It's a nasty habit, or so I'm told."
I turn away from him quickly, trying to hide the warmth creeping up at face at his use of my words.
"Well that person must be very smart to say that."
"I think so."
-------
I don't find the time to tell him the next day. Or the next. Or the next. Despite having a lot of chances to. Javier always finds his way to me around the house, chatting and asking me questions. I try to ask him some too, but his eyes grow dark and distant and he shuts in on himself, no doubt recalling the horrors of his time pursuing Escobar. I stop asking.
"Vanessa! We have to go or we'll be late to Danny's wedding!" Chucho yells up the stairs at me, just as I'm putting on my mascara.
"I'll be right down!" I take one last look at myself in the mirror, smoothing down my dress. It was bold, for me anyway. Spaghetti straps and a form fitting dress that stops just above my knee, a lacy slip over top of it all that's long sleeved. It's a dark green color, always one of my favorites. I'm not sure it's entirely wedding appropriate, but it's the only thing that I liked that fit me decent enough. My hair is down and loosely curled and I turn my head back and forth to make sure the bounce had stayed.
I grab my clutch and head downstairs. Chucho stands at the foot of the stairs, smiling at me.
"You look beautiful, Vanessa."
"You're just saying that so I won't make broccoli next week."
He chuckles and gives me a hug. "You caught me. Oh, when's Alex back?"
"Next week."
"Pops, we have to get going or we'll..." Javier comes walking back inside the front door, red flannel shirt tucked into tight jeans that hug his body in all the right ways. He stares at me, his eyes moving up and down my body until Chucho elbows him in the stomach.
"Fuck! You uh..you look uh nice, Vanessa."
"Nice?" Chucho says, chuckling in disbelief. "I thought you knew how to talk to women." He heads out the door, leaving Javier and I standing in the entry.
"You look really..handsome." I manage to choke out at Javier. "Now come on. Your dad will kill us if we're late."
I move to hop in the truck and then realize the stick shift will need to be right between my legs if I wanted to ride in the front.
"I'll get in the back," Javier speaks into my ear.
"No you won't. The bed is dirty and I will not have my son walking into church covered in-"
Javier puts his hands up. "Ok, ok. We'll figure it out."
I get in, taking Javier's offered hand to help me up into the cab. I slide across the bench, looking down at the gear shift as Javier slides in next to me. I try to move my legs but there's nowhere for them to move to.
"Tuck them next to my leg." I look up at Javier, the closest I've been to him since that night.
"Are you s-sure?"
"Yeah. I won't bite." I swear he mumbles "Unless you want me to" under his breath but maybe I'm projecting.
We make it to the church on time. Well, early actually as Chucho wanted "a good seat." We get out of the truck and to my surprise, Javier offers me his arm again. I take it, using him to help me out of the cab, smoothing down my dress when I finally plant my feet on the ground. But he doesn't let go, doesn't drop my arm, letting me choose if I wanted to hold onto him or not. I link my arm further in his, noting the small smile he's fighting to contain on his face.
I am very glad I chose to hold onto him. Not just because his touch is electrifying my body, but because the ground in the dirt parking lot is very uneven, the last rainstorm having put in several large potholes and what feels like millions of smaller ones. Javier saved me from falling right in the mud more than a few times. When we finally make it to the pavement, he still doesn't drop my arm, looking down at me with raised eyebrows, silently asking me what I'd like to do.
"Oh no. I'm attached now. If you let me go, I'll fall on my butt I know it."
He chuckles and covers my hand with his large one, engulfing mine. "I got you, baby."
We say our hello's to everyone as we enter and I feel Javier tense next to me at the amount of attention he's starting to receive. Many people wanting to shake his hand and tell them how proud they are of him, that he's a hero. He smiles, although it doesn't reach his eyes, and thanks them, shaking their hands with his free one. This happens several times on our way to the pew Chucho wanted and after the third time, I place my free hand over his, giving it a light squeeze. I can feel him relax into me slightly as the man in front of us thanks him yet again. But as the next person approaches, I cut them off.
"Juan, it's so nice to see you, but we need to sit. These shoes weren't made for real feet," I chuckle and nod my head towards my feet. "I swear if Javier weren't escorting me I'd be taking these things off or fallen on my rear end by now."
"Oh! Yeah go sit. See you later, Javs!"
We finally make it to our row and Javier gestures for me to go ahead. I make my way in, sitting down as Javier slides in next to me.
"Hey, thanks." He speaks quietly so only I can hear him.
"Yeah of course. Anytime."
Shortly after, the ceremony starts and Javier places his arm across the pew behind me and I will myself to not blush and just pretend like I'm focusing on the sermon, the priest now saying something about love and devotion in marriage or..something. I have no clue as I feel Javier stretch a little and slide a little closer to me in the pew, our hips almost touching.
The reception was beautiful, music starting up a bit later while everyone was eating. We finish eating and Javier turns to me, mischief in his eyes.
"Dance with me?" His hand is outstretched towards me and I take it without hesitation.
"Do you know how?" I ask as he pulls me to my feet.
"Do you?"
"Fair question."
He escorts me onto the dance floor, placing his hand confidently on my hip, the other taking my hand. The music starts and he spins us around, our feet moving together to the beat. His eyes are on me and mine on his, the air between us igniting with something that we felt 6 years ago.
That realization jolts me back to the present and I move my head next to his, looking over his shoulder. I really need to tell him. I catch sight of a blonde woman, about Javier's age, giving me a really nasty look. But then the songs ends and Javier pulls back.
"Thirsty?"
"Yeah."
We head back to the table and sit, several more people coming up to shake Javier's hand and tell him how proud they were, that he's a hero, all of it. I can see that far away look in his eyes, like he's here but not here. His eyes lock on something across the room and he leans towards Chucho and me.
"I'll be right back."
I watch him walk across the room towards the blonde woman who had given me such a nasty look earlier.
"Who is that?" I lean over to Chucho, nodding towards them. He glances up before looking back down at his plate of food.
"Lorraine. His ex."
"Oh. They serious?"
He takes a bite of his food and chews. "They were. But that was maybe 10 years ago?"
"Hhm.. how serious?"
"Well, they were going to get married."
"Oh."
Chucho looks at me and leans in. "He left her though. The day of."
"The day of...the wedding??"
"Not one of his best moments. But he was young and scared. And stupid."
I look over at them, a man now walking up to them and putting his arm around Lorraine.
"Well she seems to have done alright."
"Yeah. Married some banker or real estate guy or something. Seems happy. Couple of kids."
"Should you have told me this?"
Chucho gestures around at the room. "Everyone here was there that day. They all know. It's not a secret."
I nod, turning to look back at them when I see Javier turn, his hand doing that thing where it opens and closes, his bottom lip worrying slightly into his teeth. He stops a few steps away from Lorraine and looks back, watching as she picks up her kids and animatedly talks to them. When he turns back around, his face is full of regret and want, but I don't know if it's about her or the kids, his almost family. He walks through the room and out the back door.
"I'll be right back."
I get up and cross the room, heading out the door Javier did. I look around and see him sitting on a bench under a tree several feet out from the reception room. He pulls out some gum from his pocket and stuffs it in his mouth, his jaw chewing furiously. I walk up to him and he looks up at me, his eyes sad.
"Can I sit?" I ask, gesturing to the space next to him on the bench. He nods at the space, leaning back to put his arm across the back of the bench behind me.
"Thank you," I say to him after several moments.
He looks at me. "For what?"
"For...everything. I know you must have had to do some things you aren't proud of in order to catch a very bad man. I can't imagine how that must weigh on you, make you feel like you don't deserve praise. But you worked so hard and they took that ending away from you which was, excuse my language, very fucked up of them and you didn't deserve that no matter what you did, and I just....thank you."
His eyes bore into mine, shifting emotions behind them. Anger, regret, fear, disappointment in himself, disbelief, but then something else. Something softer as he focuses on me. His hand comes up to cup my face and I lean into it, loving the feel of his calloused hands on my skin. He leans in towards me, his eyes shifting down to my lips, his breath fanning out over my face.
"Wait. I have to tell you something, Javier."
"Can you tell me after we make out?"
Can I? No. No, Vanessa.
"I really think I need to tell you first."
He pulls back and it looks like it costs him a ton of effort, just like it did me to tell him to stop. He puts his hand on his lap and watches me, waiting for me to continue.
"Do you remember when I told you that Alex's dad had important things to do? And you thought he was giving me a line?"
He nods. "Yeah..."
"What if...what if that were you?"
He furrows his eyebrows together, confused. "If what were me?"
"If you had gone off to Colombia or were going off and you found out you'd gotten some girl pregnant?"
"I would have come home or not gone."
"Yeah, but wouldn't you resent them just a little for robbing you of this opportunity?"
He scoffs. "They would've saved me a lot of shit."
"You know that now. But then?"
He thinks for a moment. "I don't know. I can't say I wouldn't have been disappointed."
"Don't you think your kid would pick up on that?"
"I...I don't know. I didn't consider....Vanessa?"
I swallow down the tears that are fighting to escape my body. "Yeah?"
"How old is Alex?"
I take a deep breath and look him in the eyes. "6."
It takes him a few moments, probably doing the math in his head. But then his eyes widen and he pulls his arm from around me, scooting back a little.
"6?"
"Yeah."
He shifts on the bench. "Is he...who's his dad?"
I can't help the one tear that falls from my eyes. "Y-you are."
He looks at me before abruptly standing, pacing back and forth, his hand on his hip and the other pinching the bridge of his nose.
"I'm his dad? Me? Are you sure?"
"I've only ever been with you."
He scoffs. "It's been 6 years, Vanessa. You haven't fucked anyone in 6 years?" He stops to look at me and sees the truth in my face.
"I've gone on some dates, but nothing ever happened."
"You expect me to believe that?"
"I can only tell you the truth, I can't make you believe it."
He laughs angrily, finally stopping in front of me, glaring down at me.
"Why didn't you fucking tell me?"
"I-"
"Did you not think I deserved to know?"
"I-I-"
"I would have stayed for you! I-"
I stand up and he backs up a couple steps. "That's exactly why!"
"What?"
"You would've hated us if you stayed. You would've resented it. You just said you'd be disappointed. You don't think we wouldn't have picked up on that?"
"You didn't give me a fucking choice, Vanessa! Does he even know me?"
"He doesn't know who you are. I told him you were a superhero, fighting a really bad man in another country. And that you'd come back when he was caught."
Javier hesitates a moment. "You never gave me a choice! I lost all of that time. I lost...FUCK! I can't even look at you!" He turns and walks away, past the parking lot and into the street, heading towards town.
I call after him but it's no use. I collapse onto the bench, my head in my hands, finally letting the tears out that I'd been holding back for so long.
-------
The next morning, I set at the kitchen island, a mug of hot coffee clutched between my cold hands as I wait for Javier. I hear the sounds of someone moving down the stairs and I sit up straighter, but Chucho enters the kitchen. I feel my face fall as he looks at me.
"I know I'm not a looker but-"
"Sorry, Chucho. I was expecting.." my voice trails off and he cocks his head.
"Javi? He left."
I sit bolt upright. "Left?"
Chucho pours himself a mug of coffee. "Yeah for Cali. Didn't he tell you? He was going to tell you last night that he was heading back. It was sort of a secret but I told him you'd probably notice if you were no longer sharing a bathroom."
I feel the blood drain from my face. "He's gone?"
Chucho turns, mug in hand and scans my face. "Yeah. I thought he told you? When neither of you returned to the reception, I assumed...well, I thought he'd tell you before he..."
Tears fall wet and hard from my already puffy face. Chucho looks alarmed but sets his mug down and pulls me to him, letting me soak his shirt as he makes calming sounds at me.
"I told him, Chucho. I told him about Alex," My speech is muffled but he hears it all the same.
"What happened?"
I tell him the entire conversation, how Javier just stormed off and how I expected to see him this morning, to apologize and tell him he doesn't have to be involved, that I can move out to make it easier. Chucho waves me off with that last one. "I would never make you move out. Javi doesn't cook nearly as good as you."
I give him a small smile, my shoulders still shaking from sobbing.
"Listen, Vanessa. I won't give you a lecture. You know my opnion and it's no use retelling you. But he knows now. Javier tends to run from things."
"So we're his latest Lorraine?"
Chucho cocks his head, thinking. "I doubt that very much. You're not Lorraine. He looks at you differently."
"Looked. I doubt he'll even want to see me again."
"Mm...let's just give him space, ok?"
"But what if he's down there another 6 years?"
"Something tells me it won't take him that long to think about things."
-------
Javier
It had been a month since Vanessa told him he has a kid. That he has a 6 year old son he knew nothing about, knew nothing about him. Except that he's a hero. Which is a lie.
The Cali Cartel had another 5 months before they would be "turning themselves in", which was a big joke. He had to catch them before the time was up so they could face actual justice and not this fake, bureaucratic bullshit.
He's tried to resort back to his old ways of dealing, burying himself in a woman. But when he tried to, he couldn't bring himself to do anything, let alone sleep with them. It was everything he could do to not pick up a cigarette, but his patience was wearing thin.
He tried not to think about Vanessa and her confession. But when the work day was over, and he went back to his penthouse the government provided, his brain would play that conversation over and over in his head. At first, he continued to remain livid, that she had denied him the choice of knowing his family, being with his kid. But then his dad's words echoed in his mind, the call coming the day he landed in Cali.
"That girl has been through hell, Javi. Don't be the asshole you claimed you wouldn't be."
"She didn't tell me I had a kid, dad. A kid! Who does that?"
"She was only thinking about you! This whole time, she was worried about your wellbeing. She didn't want you distracted or resentful, even if it cost her everything."
"What did it cost her?"
"Her parents! Her family, friends, her church. Ours welcomed her with open arms only because I was there to vouch for her. She was shunned from her entire life and still only worried about you. Don't be such a stubborn asshole."
He thought about Vanessa, so young and pregnant, trying to figure out how to tell her strict parents she was expecting despite not being married. Them kicking her out, closing her off from all of her friends and family, anyone who would support her. Her finding the strength and will to drive all the way back to Loredo to try and find him and discovering he would be away for an indefinite amount of time. What would he do in that situation? Run away from it, probably. Which she didn't have the option of doing.
He takes a swig of his drink, the ice cubes clunking against his top lip. He wants to meet his kid, Alex. Wants to tell him that the bad guy was caught and that he's back. Would he be back? It's probably good Alex doesn't know who he is, in case something happens to him here. But if he gets to go home, he knows he wants to be in his life.
What about Vanessa? Will she let him in their lives? Javier is pretty sure she will, even with the way he left. But what about her? If he's honest with himself, truly honest, when he looks past the anger, he sees her big eyes, the freckles on her cheeks, the sass she gives him in her quiet manner. And he thinks, no. He knows. He knows he loves her. He thinks she loves him. If she didn't, surely she would've told him long ago, not caring about his well being. But she had been so adamant about not telling him, wanting him to be safe.
He crosses his arms, pinching the bridge of his nose. Fuck, what was he doing? Granted he signed up to go back to Cali when they called him in, assuming that if he didn't they would throw him in prison. But honestly, he was ready to come back and actually be here when they get the bad guys. But then Vanessa came back into his life and now a kid.
Fuck, he's an idiot.
-------
Vanessa
6 months. It had been 6 months since Javier stormed out and ran away to Cali. Ok, run away was harsh as he went there for work, agreeing to it long before he knew I was here. But he hadn't called and I took that as a sign, no matter how many times Chucho said it doesn't mean anything because he doesn't call him either. He gets too caught up in his work.
It's the start of summer, the windows are open to get a cross breeze coming through the house. I do miss the ac back home, but I'll take Chucho's home over the one I grew up in any day, heat or no.
Alex got a new book and I hadn't seen him for a couple hours as he's spent them in his room, devouring the latest in his series. He did come out once, nose buried in the book, to ask me for a snack.
I finish washing his cup, setting it on the rack to dry. I stare out the little window over the sink, watching Chucho putter about between the barn and the shed, thinking about the animals and how hot it's going to get out there. I know they're used to it, but still. I'' have to get some extra ice trays at the store so I can throw some more in their water troughs. Chucho says that's why they all like me so much.
Suddenly, I hear heavy steps on the wood floor behind me, much heavier than Alex's. I spin, my hand gripping the cast iron pan that was sitting there. But when I fully turn, I nearly drop the pan.
Javier is there, standing in front of me, his chest heaving, a small bead of sweat sliding down his neck and onto his chest, which is slightly exposed by his several undone buttons in his lavender purple, button up shirt.
"Javier, I-"
"Sshh. I'm sorry."
"What?"
He takes a few steps towards me. "I never should have just left. I at least should've told you about Cali."
"No. I'm sorry. I should've told-"
He's only a couple steps from me now. "No, it's ok. I understand. You were thinking about your family. About how it would affect even me. you did what you had to do."
This was not what I expected. He reaches for the pan, still clutched in my hand. He takes it and sets it on the counter behind me, leaning close to me. He looks down at me, his hand coming up to cup my cheek and I inhale sharply at the sensation.
"You're so brave and I'm a fucking idiot."
"You have every right-"
He pulls me to him, gently pressing his lips to mine, giving me time and space to stop him. But what he doesn't know is his touch has sent me spiraling, spinning away into the sky. And when his tongue slides into my mouth, my body trembles slightly, my hand coming up to mindlessly grab onto his arm. But then he pulls back, staring into my eyes.
"I'm in love with you."
My stomach lurches, a thousand butterflies being released in my body at his words. Love? He loves me? I never thought I'd hear those words from anyone, let alone the man I've loved since I was 19. The reason none of my dates every worked out.
"And it's ok if you don't-"
"I love you too."
He smiles, a real smile that lights up even his eyes, both of his hands now cupping my face. "Really?"
"Why do you think none of those dates ever worked out? It was always you, Javi."
He kisses me more passionately now, his hand leaving my face to grip my hip, pulling me against him. I feel him through his tight jeans, pressing into me and I groan a little in his mouth.
"Fuck, you're so intoxicating. It was killing me not to kiss you."
"Mmm." Is all I can manage to say. But then I remember we're not alone, not this time.
"Do you want to meet him?"
Javier pulls his face back from mine. "He's here?"
I nod. "Yeah. Reading, upstairs."
He shifts, tugging on his pants. "Hell yeah I want to meet him. But uh, give me a sec?"
I glance down and chuckle. "Maybe I can help you with that later?"
He groans. "You aren't helping any now."
He turns and walks out the back door and I see him say hi to his dad, embracing him. Chucho watches him for a moment and then a smile appears and he claps him on the shoulder. I can only assume he's telling him he's going to meet Alex. Javier comes back inside, taking a deep breath.
"Ok, I think I'm ready."
"Alex! Can you come downstairs for a minute?"
Small feet patter across the floor upstairs and make their way down, Alex appearing in the kitchen a moment later, his book still propped open in his hand.
"Mom, I was at a really good part!"
"Alex, I have someone I want you to meet."
"Can it wait?"
I kneel down to get on his level, his eyes, so like Javier's, staring back at me, sensing the seriousness.
"Alex, meet your dad, Javier."
Slowly he turns, looking up at Javier who waves at him awkwardly. "Hey, kiddo. I uh, got the bad guy. I'm sorry it took me so long."
Alex continues to stare at him for a moment. Then he throws his precious book to the floor, running full out towards Javier, who throws his arms out at the last minute as Alex leaps into them, nearly knocking him over.
"Dad? It's really you?"
"It really is."
Alex clutches onto him, tears in both of their eyes. "I always dreamed of meeting you! This is the best day of my life!"
Javier hugs him tight, fighting back the tears that are quickly gathering in his eyes. "This is the best day of my life too, son."
-------
2 years later...
I load up the old tractor with a couple of picnic baskets, 4 large thermos full of homemade lemonade next to them. I close the back and carefully hop up, driving slowly across the property, a smile on my face. After a while, I pull up to the 3 men in my life: Chucho trying to carry wood by himself, Javi yelling at him as he runs to help him, and Alex, hammering away at a spare piece of wood. They were at the back end of the property repairing a downed section of fence. Javier sees me pull up and he rushes over, offering me his hand to help me down.
"I wish you hadn't driven this thing."
"Well if I walked, it would've been dinner by the time I brought your lunch."
"Mom! Watch me!" Alex starts hammering on a piece of wood Chucho had laid in the ground, Javier moving to help him pound it in further.
"My strong man!"
"Son, gather up the tools and put them in the box. We're taking a break for lunch."
Alex starts to look around for the tools as Javier turns back to me. He wraps his arm around me and leans in to kiss me, sliding his tongue over my bottom lip.
"Now now none of that. That made this happen," I rest my hand on my enlarged belly as Javier leans down, planting a kiss to my stomach before standing back up. He leans close to my ear.
"I plan on putting as many kids in you as you'll let me."
I slap his chest, but the thought warms me. "Let's just see how these 2 go first, yeah?"
He smiles at me, kissing me again before lifting Alex into the back of the trailer, helping me to set up the picnic lunches I had made for all of them. As we stare out at the river, a boat comes through, obviously carrying illegal items, most likely drugs. Javier stiffens, but then looks around at us.
"I'm done. I've done all I can. Now I just want to spend my life with my family."
-------
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[Not] Guilty Part 2
Part 1 
A few people expressed interest in this becoming a series. I had a storyline for it when I made the first ‘chapter’. I do warn you guys though I will probably be slow to post. I have a hard time when I feel like I have to write the next chapter of something. Not to mention I am currently packing (and procrastinating packing by writing) to move from Michigan to Tennessee for my new post-grad job!  
This is not a spoiler because I hinted heavily (told you really) at it at the end of the first chapter, but I did want to warn everyone- this has the ACCIDENTAL PREGNANCY TROPE. For those of you who do not like those stories, you have been warned. The case is mentioned in this story but is not its main focus, but what will become of the reader and Sonny’s relationship. (I may change the name because it implies otherwise.)  
Warnings- mentions of sex abuse, physical abuse, prison violence, suicide and accidental pregnancy trope (just in case you missed it ^)
Thank you for reading that really long author's note <3
The breakup should be harder on you. It was the longest relationship you had been in. The nervousness you had felt when you had crept up to the six-month marker and the kiss of death to every relationship you had ever had. It had come in like a lion, with you causing fights waiting for the inevitable, and out like a lamb when Sonny realized what the problem was. He had maturely communicated that he had no intent in letting you go. It had been smooth sailing for the most part after that. The relief you had felt when it all just seemed to work out. You guys were just a few weeks away from the year mark.  
The end was as abrupt as your cousin Randy’s arrest. The betrayal of Sonny going after him without any regard to you. Then the attempted railroading from him to you of Randy’s guilt. The whole thing had left you cold and numb.  
You knew Dominick Carisi was a good lawyer and now he could be the one to put Randy away for life. On a charge you were sure he didn’t commit. You hadn’t seen him much since the day you refused to let him into your apartment. You only saw him during court proceedings or meetings with him and Randy’s defense lawyer. Not that he hadn’t tried. He had called, texted, and stopped by your apartment frequently during the first few weeks. You were sure he thought that you were just overacting and that you would come to see the light of your cousin’s misdoings. Process and then accept what was going on. The only difference was you knew deep in your soul that your cousin wasn’t guilty. You wouldn't let anyone railroad you into thinking anything differently.  
Not even a man you loved. 
You had been actively avoiding him and any emotion that he provoked. You tried to ignore that you were a hot mess. The stress and emotional strain caused constant fatigue and churning in your stomach which had a tendency to make you sick. You had been trying to take care of everything for the case and still work overtime to continue paying your bills and for Randy’s pricy lawyer. You had even tried to get the money to bail Randy out, but Sonny had asked for an outrageous bond that even combined your working-class family couldn’t afford. You had tried to make up for it by putting money in his commissary and visiting once a week. Randy assured you he was okay, but it didn’t help make you feel better. Especially, when you saw the black eye and cut lip on your last visit.  
Today was court and it was Randy’s turn to testify. You sat there in support of him and tried not to wince or shift uncomfortably as years of family secrets were let loose in open court. It was to help show Randy’s character the lawyer had explained. It was smart but you didn’t have to like listening to it.  
Randy testified to his mental health issues. His bipolar that left him manic and on top of the world one day and then so depressed he couldn’t get out of bed the next. He went on to talk about the sexual and physical abuse he had received at the hands of his own father. How he had used substance to numb himself. He was in tears when he talked about how he could never hurt someone like he had been hurt. He would rather put a bullet in his head.  
He had tried to skirt around the question about his uncle. But when he was pressed, he talked about how he had witnessed the brutal murder of his father at his uncle's hands when he had found out and then watched his uncle be arrested and put in prison. How he had been put on multiple 72-hour psych holds in the years following. Listening to it all was hard and made you want to curl up in a corner and sob. It was heartbreaking to listen to. Randy looked and sounded believable- like a victim himself who deserved empathy.  
Sonny turned in his seat to look at you. You were only able to maintain eye contact for only a few seconds. It had been long enough to see the understanding in his eyes. The almost audible clicking of all the puzzle pieces of your life that you dodged around or refused to talk about when you were together were finally coming together for him. You could also see the frustration at you not being honest with him and him being blindsided in open court. 
When recess was called until Monday you had to keep yourself from running out of the courthouse and instead force yourself to walk at a normal pace. You couldn’t face any of the SVU detectives that you were once close to. You hear your name called and your body freezes without your permission. A Staten Island accent thickened with emotion. “Why didn’t you tell me?” 
You can’t even turn back to look at him. You feel exhausted as you say. “You didn’t want to listen.” 
≪ °❈° ≫ 
You return to court four days later, and there is something strange brewing in the courtroom. You can feel it in the air. You can see it. There is no jury and the courtroom is empty. The rest happens in a blur. ADA Dominick Carisi stands up and tells the judge they had found further evidence over the weekend and they wanted to drop all charges, except for possession. They offered a deal on time served. You felt the tears rush down your face in disbelief. 
You find yourself in the hallway and a hand touches your shoulder from behind. You turn around to see Olivia Benson. “For what it is worth, I’m sorry.” Her face is sincere but all you could hear in your mind was the echoing of her words to you of his guilt and how it was normal to be in denial. It could take a while for your mind to be able to comprehend that someone you know, and love is capable of such malicious intent. “For all the trouble and for all this has cost you.” Even in your haze, you knew she wasn’t talking about the money you had put into Randy’s defense. “With his DNA in her apartment and on that blunt we really thought-” 
“Sharing weed with a woman doesn’t mean you're going to rape and kill her.” Your words are bitter and distant even to your own ears. 
“Of course not,” Olivia paused gathering her thoughts. 
“What happened? What did you guys find?”  
“Well, we went back over the timeline. We had a hard time believing Randy because when we interviewed him, he didn’t even know where he had been for most of the night.” You knew he had been hopped up on some pretty strong stuff that night. “Do you know the cemetery a couple of blocks from where we arrested him?” You felt like a bolt of lightning had struck through you. You did in fact know it. It was where his older brother had been buried after he committed suicide at twenty. “There was a security camera there that had been installed because of some teenager destroying headstones. It shows Randy there hours before Mary Moore’s death to hours after it. He slept there all night actually.” 
You huff out a laugh. Thomas was Randy’s older brother by almost ten years. He, out of the three sons, had taken the worst of the abuse from their father. He had protected Randy and the youngest David until the moment he had ended it all, but it seemed even death couldn’t stop him from protecting his younger brother. 
You see Randy getting released, a bag of belongings in his hand and you start to head over to him completely forgetting that you had been in a conversation with the detective. You are only reminded when you hear her voice raise slightly as she says, “You know, Carisi is the one that started looking back at the timeline. He is the reason this case was dropped.” You freeze feeling something twist in your stomach. An emotion that you don’t want to deal with in this happy moment. 
“It doesn’t change anything.”  
You stride to Randy’s side and hug. You weren’t allowed to touch him when you were visiting him in lockup. He clings to you burying his face into your neck and you can feel the hot tears against your neck. “Thank you. Thank you so much for never giving up on me.” You hug him tighter feeling your own tears roll down your cheeks.  
≪ °❈° ≫ 
You were sitting back at the apartment curled up on the couch wrapped in a blanket as Randy was spending an ungodly amount of time in the bathroom. You smiled to yourself, just happy that he was home. Even if he was back to crashing on your couch. He joined on the couch, hair still wet from his shower. He leaned back into the cushions with a sigh. The two of you sat in silence processing all that had happened in the last four months.  
“I found a rehab program when I was locked up. It focuses on people with mental health issues like my bipolar. I called and they said they had a spot open for me. Someone ran out. Good luck, huh?” You laugh shaking your head.  
“Good to know you still have your positivity streak.” You lay back feeling absolutely exhausted. You had been having a fatigue that just wouldn’t go away. “I think it's a good idea though. It would be good for you to get that settled. Your being off and on your meds hasn't been helping. I just want you to be happy, and have a real chance at the life you deserve.”  
“Yeah, I know. I hope you know I appreciate everything you have done for me. Everything that you have had to sacrifice.” You say his name, but he cuts you off, “No, really Chickadee. All these years, you didn’t have to do any of it. Without you, I would have been dead or locked up three times over by now.” You reach out and start running your finger through his hair. “It’ll probably be good for you to have to space anyways.” 
“I don’t mind you sleeping on my couch.” You assure him. 
“I know, but with you being pregnant and all. I’m sure you-” 
“I’m sorry about me being what?” Randy doesn’t miss a beat. 
“Oh, come on Chickadee. I know you were trying not to make a big deal out of it because of everything that was going on but-” You shake your head at him, laughing. 
“Randy, I’m not pregnant.” The finality in your voice makes him turn his position to face you more fully. He quirks an eyebrow at you. 
“Are you sure about that?” His tone is one of disbelief as he eyes your form. You smack his shoulder saying his name loudly. “Well, I would check into that, anyhow. You know with the fatigue, upset stomach, morning sickness, and with how big those things have gotten.” He gestures to your breast with a wave of his hand.  
You look down at them and feel your mind starting to spiral as you try to think of the last time you had a period. You bite your thumb as you realize it was before the case had started. While it wasn’t uncommon for you to skip when you were stressed out, that was a considerable amount of time. “Alright, I’m kicking you out of my bed. I haven’t had a good night's sleep in almost four months.” Randy didn’t seem to notice your mind spinning. He thought that you were still just messing around with him. He had no idea the can of worms he had just opened in your head. 
You stood up numbly as he started making the couch his makeshift bed. Then flopping onto it with a content sigh. You say nothing as you go to grab your purse and head toward the drug store a block over.   
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simplykorra · 1 year
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you know what i need more of? stories about characters with disabilities where the disability isn’t the root of the angst or the center of trauma.
disabilities aren’t monsters to be fought. they’re real life circumstances that millions of people have, live with and thrive despite of every single day.
i’ve been in a wheelchair my entire life. is it hard sometimes? absolutely. did it take me a long time to accept it and be comfortable with it? you bet, but you know what would have made it easier? seeing stories and characters of people like me who weren’t defined by it. who weren’t made to feel like they were something that needed to be fixed or some kind of heavy burden on the people who they loved.
so when i say i want more stories of people with disabilities, it’s less for me (though i would enjoy them greatly) and more for the people out there still struggling to come to grips with whatever they happen to be dealing with.
they shouldn’t have to see stories where characters like them are viewed as a dull, lackluster, and endlessly miserable people whose loved ones feel trapped by the weight of their burden.
that’s the kind of approach that makes people with disabilities feel like they're worthless and unlovable.
representation matters, i hear it all the time and believe in it wholeheartedly, this is no different.
let your disabled characters be characters. let them find joy and happiness and normalcy in their own way. let their disability be a character trait, not a demon forever leering over their shoulder.
people with disabilities are just that, people, and we want to live our lives and find the joy in it just like everyone else. the things that make us different aren’t a villain that needs to be slain, they’re simply a part of who we are. let’s embrace that <3
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friendshiptothemax · 1 year
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I was on a plane this weekend, and I was chatting with the woman sitting next to me about an upcoming writer’s strike. “Do you really think you’re mistreated?” she asked me.
That’s not the issue at stake here. Let me tell you a little something about “minirooms.”
Minirooms are a way of television writing that is becoming more common. Basically, the studio will hire a small group of writers, 3-6 or so, and employ them for just a few weeks. In those few weeks (six weeks seem to be common), they have to hurriedly figure out as much about the show as they can -- characters, plots, outlines for episodes. Then at the end of the six weeks, all the writers are fired except for the showrunner, who has to write the entire series themselves based on the outlines.
This is not a widespread practice, but it has become more common over the past couple of years. Studios like it because instead of paying for a full room for the full length of the show, they just pay a handful of writers for a fraction of the show. It’s not a huge problem now, but the WGA only gets the chance to make rules every three years -- if we let this go for another three years and it becomes the norm? That would be DEVASTATING for the tv writing profession.
Do I feel like I’m mistreated? No. I LOVE my job! But in a world of minirooms, there is no place for someone like me -- a mid-level writer who makes a decent living working on someone else’s show (I’d like to be a showrunner someday, but for now I feel like I still have a lot to learn, and my husband and I are trying to start a family so I like not being support rather than the leader for now). In a miniroom, there are only two levels -- the handful of glorified idea people who are already scrambling to find their next show because you can’t make a decent living off of one six-week job (and since there are fewer people per room, there are fewer jobs overall, even at the six-week amount), and the overworked, stressed as fuck showrunner who is going to have to write the entire thing themselves. Besides being bad for me making a living, I also just think it’s plain bad for television as an art form -- what I like about TV is how adaptable it is, how a whole group of people come together to tell a story better than what any of them could do on their own. Plus the showrunner can’t do their best work under all of that pressure, episode after episode, back to back. Minirooms just...fucking suck.
The WGA is proposing two things to fix this -- a rule that writers have to be employed for the entire show, and a rule tying the number of writers in the room to the number of episodes you have per season. I don’t think it’s unreasonable. It’s the way shows have run since the advent of television. It’s only in the last couple of years that this has become a new thing. It’s exploitative. It squeezes out everyone except showrunners and people who have the financial means to work only a few months a year. It makes television worse. And that is the issue in this strike that means everything to me, and that is why I voted yes on the strike authorization vote.
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watchmegetobsessed · 1 month
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OLD GRUDGES (part 1)
A/N: wooohoooo im bringing something new!!! i feel like it happens so rarely it's like a miracle lol anyway, this will be hopefully a couple of parts (probably about 3) and lets all pray i will actually finish it lol
WORD COUNT: 3.7k
WARNING: sexual content
SUMMARY: Harry and Y/N go way back. Working together was like a dream when 1D was still going strong. Now, years later, when they end up working together again, things are very different. Mostly because Y/N seems to be hating Harry passionately. But he has not idea why.
MASTERLIST | SERIES MASTERLIST
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Everyone loves Harry Styles. It’s a known fact, not just amongst the people who actually know him, but all around the world. He is known as one of the most unproblematic celebrities, someone who gives just as much if not even more respect as he gets, always kind and patient with others, rarely loses his temper. It’s hard to imagine that there is anyone walking this planet who doesn’t see him as a lovable, sweet man.
Well, it might be hard to imagine, but there is actually one person who has a very different opinion when it comes to the british popstar. 
And that person is music producer, Y/N. 
The interesting thing is that their history goes way back into his 1D days. Y/N was an up and coming name in the industry, just started working with bigger names when she got the chance to produce several songs on the band’s third studio album. Harry remembers her as a bubbly, funny girl who is passionate about her job and is also excellent in it. Working with her was easy and motivating, she was always eager to perfect songs to an extent Harry couldn’t even imagine and that’s why songs like Story Of My Life, You & I and Midnight Memories were such hits. Y/N put her heart and soul into them, which eventually earned all the recognition they deserved. 
Harry loved working with Y/N and she was in talks of working on their fourth album as well, but the deal ended up ditched and she went on to do other projects and they somehow had a fallout. It was a shame, but he hoped his path would cross hers again. 
Years and years went by and so much changed by the time their professional ways finally met again. Jeff brought her name up when Harry just started writing for his fourth solo album and Harry gave him the go to do whatever it takes to get her on the project. A few weeks passed and Harry didn’t get any confirmation about her and just when he was about to bring it up to Jeff, he hit him with the news.
“Y/N is in for five songs. Contract should be signed by Wednesday and you can start working next week.”
Harry wondered why it took so long to get her on board, but he brushed it off because he knew she was a big name now herself and had plenty of offers from which she could choose from. He was excited to work with her and simply see her again.
It was utter shock for him when she was the complete opposite of what he remembered. Okay, that might be an overstatement, but Harry could feel something was off instantly.
She was still bubbly and fun, but for some reason, she had a certain iciness and bitter attitude whenever her focus was on Harry. To anyone else it was unnoticable, Harry knows, because he asked Jeff about it.
“What are you talking about? She is awesome,” the manager said with a shrug and Harry tried to tell himself it was all in his head, because if Jeff doesn’t see it, it’s not real.
But it kept happening and it felt even stronger when it was just him and her in a room. Sometimes she even pretended like he wasn’t there, sometimes her snarky comments were all he got and they just strengthened him in his belief. 
He wanted to ask her about it, he tried, several times, but his attempts just bounced right off her icy behavior so eventually, he gave up and there was only one thing left for him to do.
Return what he was getting. 
Yes, it is childish, but he felt like he needed to deal with her unreasonable hatred towards him somehow and this was the easiest way. Was it a smart idea to practically become enemies when working together on his album? Of course not. But it just happened.
And going against each other became their thing. 
They were great in arguing, disagreeing even when they could easily compromise, riling each other up and lashing out on each other when the tension had been building up for hours. It got to the point where others started to notice that something was off between the two of them and when Jeff questioned Harry about it, he couldn’t give him a reasonable explanation.
“She started it,” he said and instantly felt like a kid, telling on his classmate at school. But this is all he could say, because he had no idea why she was acting this way. And he has to live with it while they work together.
Something is off. Harry knows it. Something about the melody… or the guitar… or is it the lyrics? He can’t tell, he has listened to the recording a million times so it all melts in his ears and he can’t identify what’s setting him off every time he hears it. 
“Why don’t we take a break?” Jack, the technician suggests, turning in his chair. “Y/N will be here in twenty, I’m sure she’ll–”
“Okay,” Harry snaps, just so he doesn’t finish. He knows what he wanted to say. 
She’ll know what’s wrong and will correct it in a second.
Y/N always knows what’s wrong and most of the time it’s a perk, of course it is, but today, Harry feels like it’s gonna make him want to crawl out of his body. Maybe it’s because he’s been in the studio for five hours and he got nowhere or maybe because Mitch will have his first ever solo gig tonight and Harry has been worried his fame or relation to him might ruin this experience for him. 
Either way, today he is just extra pissed by the fact that Y/N will be the one to solve this mystery. 
“I’m gonna grab a coffee,” he clears his throat, standing up from his seat. “Do you want one?” he offers, feeling a bit guilty he snapped at Jack.
“Uh, yeah, just an espresso is fine, thanks man.”
“Sure, I’ll be right back.”
Putting on his headphone, Harry jogs across the street to the tiny coffee shop he’s been a regular at. He likes the place because they are discreet and their coffee is just simply amazing, though they swear there’s nothing extra in it. 
He waits for the two coffees at the end of the counter and scrolls on his phone in the meantime. Emails, messages, there’s always something to answer to. He sends out a few replies before he ends up in his calendar. It’s neatly color coded and he takes pride in keeping it up-to-date all the time so he can always be on top of his game, no matter what. 
His eyes land on one particular date. Five weeks from now Y/N’s contract expires and if the five songs are done by then, she’ll be out of Harry’s life again. Seeing how the work is going, she’ll easily outdo that number so there won’t be any reason for talk about an extension. 
An unsettling feeling spreads in his stomach as he stares at the date but he doesn’t have time to figure it out because  he is snapped out of his thoughts when the two paper cups are placed in front of him. He is trying his best to keep a positive mindset as he returns to the studio’s building. With the two coffee cups in his hands he makes a right turn and then stops at the door, seeing Y/N sitting where he did previously, already listening to the recording with Jack with a critical expression on her face. 
Harry doesn’t interrupt them, just stays put and waits for her feedback. When she is done listening, she leans back in her seat.
“It’s the bass. Or more specifically the lack of it. Can you double it? Let’s see how it changes.”
Jack is quick to do as she asked and then he starts the song again and…
Harry wants to scream and laugh in bliss at the same time, because it’s perfect now. He’s mad he couldn’t spot such an obvious thing, but he is also happy it’s finally sorted out. It’s just a shame Y/N was the one to do it and not him. 
“Great, so this is done then,” he makes himself noticed as he walks into the studio and hands over one of the cups to Jack. 
When he looks at Y/N he can see that familiar, irritated look on her face that’s almost always there when he’s around. He hasn’t decided if he wants to physically wipe it off, or…
“Thanks for bringing one for me,” she comments in a bored tone, turning back towards the screen.
“You weren’t here when I went out.”
“But you knew I was coming.”
Harry opens his mouth, but then closes it, because this time she is kind of right. And it irks him even more today.
It’s gonna be a challenging session today, Harry thinks as he takes a seat.
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It’s always exciting for Harry to be behind the stage when he’s not the star of the show. Kind of like a whole different world.
He hasn’t been here for long, but he’s been trying his best to stay as unnoticed as possible and let Mitch take the spotlight. Just a few minutes ago Sarah put him on Scout-duty which he gladly took up on, he’s always happy to spend time with the little guy. This time he is letting him explore freely and he’s just following him around to make sure he’s safe. Scout seemingly enjoys the adventure with uncle Harry, who doesn’t really pay attention where he is heading. 
That’s how they end up in the green room where Y/N is.
Y/N and Sarah have worked together a while ago, which is a random coincidence how they are connected outside of Harry. Because of their history, Y/N is often where they are, however she was never around when Sarah and Mitch were playing for Harry. 
Scout runs up to Y/N, arms in the air, asking to be picked up and Harry stops a few steps away from them when he realizes who he just found.
“Hey there, little guy! Are you all by yourself?” Y/N asks, settling the boy on her hip.
She’s changed since they parted ways in the studio. Harry has always admired her sense of style, which mostly consists of basic pieces, almost like a capsule wardrobe, but there’s always something extra, something vibrant on her that makes her sets interesting. Tonight she is wearing a simple black dress with a rather low back cut, simple heels, simple makeup, but she added a silky scarf with vivid colors and shapes around her neck that brings Harry’s attention to the curve of her neck and collarbones, almost as a cheeky invitation for his eyes to her naked skin. 
He has to fight the urge to touch her.
Despite the spiteful relationship they’ve been sporting lately, Harry had to deal with a rather unreasonable desire for Y/N in a physical way.
Unreasonable, because he never thought he could be attracted to someone who pisses him off so easily, yet there’s been plenty of occasions when Harry found himself imagining scenarios he could never admit to her, not when she hates him with such obvious passion.
Tonight it’s not just the outfit, but also the way she’s handling Scout. It’s not just women who find it incredibly hot when the opposite sex is great with kids, Harry can definitely feel something inside him moving as he watches Y/N sway from side to side with the little boy in his arms.
“Uncle Hazza is here!” Scout points at him, answering her previous question. Y/N looks up and because Harry was already looking at him, he catches a slipping moment where there’s no irritation on her face, but it returns quite fast when her gaze settles on him. 
“Ah, hi,” she says, lips pressed together as she nods, acknowledging his presence. 
“Hey. Long time no see.”
As soon as the words leave his mouth he regrets it. Who says that? Why did he even say anything else other than hi? He smacks himself in his mind. 
Part of him expects her to say something like ‘not long enough’ but she just keeps quiet and turns all her attention to Scout. Harry feels out of place, he is supposed to be babysitting, but Y/N is taking care of Scout, Harry knows he is in good hands but Sarah asked him to watch over him. Should he leave? Or just keep standing there awkwardly?
“You can go, I’ll watch him,” Y/N says, as if she could read his mind. 
“You sure?”
“I’m pretty sure I can take care of him until Sarah is back.” Her reply is not just dry, kind of offended, nothing Harry wouldn’t expect from her, but it’s still irking him.
“I didn’t say you’re not capable, I just–”
“I’m not in the mood for this,” she cuts him off with an icy look. Harry is too stunned to reply, just watches Y/N walk away with Scout. 
He almost finds it amusing how easily she can piss him off, not many people have been able to do that, in fact, Harry thinks she does it the best. 
Clenching his jaw he takes a deep breath to calm his nerves and then just lets it all go. 
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The after party is always kind of Harry’s favorite. The stress is over, it’s just the relief and celebration that is left.
Mitch’s show went well, that’s what Harry expected, but it’s still great he was right. Seeing his friend be the star of the show was an experience he is glad he could be part of. Now that the core of the group has moved to a nearby bar, Harry has loosened up thanks to the couple of drinks he’s had. 
He’s been mostly sticking to the familiar faces he knows, rotating between the same few people  while enjoying how under the radar he is currently. 
The more drinks he has had, the less he’s been able to control where his gaze goes. To be exact, he’s been finding himself looking Y/N’s way the past hour or so. That damn dress and scarf, it’s like she’s put a spell on him that forces him to keep wanting to look at her. 
Harry is not experienced with feeling like this. Being attracted to someone who he hates, it’s such an ambivalent impulse, he can’t think straight. Or maybe it’s the amount of tequila he has drunk tonight, either way, it’s getting a rise out of him. 
From the corner of his eye he sees her slip out to the back where the smoking area is, he hesitates, shifts his weight from one leg to the other before making the leap and heading after her. He has no plan, no idea what he wants to ro will say to her, but he just feels like he has to talk to her.
Stepping out to the dimly lit back alley he is met with a few people scattered around, having a cigarette with drinks in hand, talking or scrolling on their phone and then he spots Y/N on the left, standing by the wall, cigarette in one hand, the remaining of her drink in the other as she stares ahead of her. 
She doesn’t smoke regularly, but she does enjoy one in certain social settings or when she’s had a few drinks. Harry knows it from years ago, because they shared a cigarette at a party, back then she seemed thrilled to spend time with him, he remembers all the conversations they had while working together, telling each other stories, sharing their plans, Harry truly thought they would remain good friends on this extraordinary journey, yet they ended up here.
As Harry walks towards her, she notices him and he sees her lips twitch in annoyance. 
“Care if I join?” he asks and she just shrugs without a word, avoiding to look at him. 
They stand there in silence for a while, she is lazily puffing the smoke out from time to time.
“Is it still just an occasional thing?” he tries to strike up a conversation.
“Mhm,” is all he gets as a reply.
“Have you tried to put it down fully?”
“Why are you doing this?” she snaps at him, finally looking his way. 
“What?”
“Why are you trying to chit-chat when we both know we don’t do that?”
“And why don’t we?” He challenges her. “Tell me why we are like this in the first place, because I have no idea.”
She stares at him for long moments and he awaits her answer like nothing before, but then she shakes her head and turns to the pin beside her, puts the cigarette out and flicks it into the bin. Then, without another word she is already heading back inside.
It takes a moment for Harry to start moving again, but he is quick to catch up with her in the hall that leads to the restrooms. 
“Y/N, give me a fucking answer!” he demands, grabbing her wrist to pull her back before she could escape, but she shakes his hand off as she comes to a stop, turning towards him.
“I owe you nothing!” she hisses at him. “I owe you no one, but especially you!”
“What the fuck does that suppose to mean?! I never thought you owe me anything!”
“I’m not doing this, Harry, leave me the fuck alone,” she growls and tries to leave, but Harry pulls her back again, determined to get an answer this time. 
“Don’t think I will just swallow everything down forever. I will get to the bottom of this, whether you like it or not. It’s your choice if you make it hard on both of us.”
She is looking back at him with wide eyes, this time his hand remains on her arm as they stare each other down in the empty hallway. Neither of them knows what will be their next move, the tension is so thick, it’s almost suffocating.
But then it all changes.
If someone asked who moved first, they wouldn’t know. One moment they are standing like stone statues, barely even breathing, then the next moment they are kissing like there’s no tomorrow.
It doesn’t take long until Harry has her pressed up against the wall, his hands roaming her body, feeling her up the way he fantasized about before, they are both rough and impatient, she is clawing at him, moaning into his mouth when his hips press against hers and she feels how hard he’s gotten already. 
Blindly, Harry pushes the closest door open which happens to be the staff’s bathroom that someone left unlocked, lucky for them. Still glued together they stumble inside, Y/N kicks the door open before Harry pushes her against it and he locks it before his hand returns to her tempting body. 
He has never acted like this when it comes to sex. He does like to spice things up sometimes, but the way he’s biting her lips or unbuttoning his pants or reaches under her dress to pull her underwear down is just so out of character for him, yet so freeing. 
Nothing is said, but when her hands pull his hard, leaking dick out of his pants, there’s a fleeting look they exchange that says it all, just how much they both want it. 
It’s the fastest pace he’s ever experienced, yet the most passionate too. They moan at the same time when Harry pushes into her and starts moving in a rush, desperate for relief. She’s panting and whining for more, the only form of speaking she is able to as she holds onto Harry who is focused on keeping up his quick and steady pace while holding her left leg up to ensure the perfect angle. 
The animalistic need is there for them both, making them act like this is what they must do to stay alive. It’s messy, fast and mind-blowing and they don’t need much time to reach the peak. As she comes her nails dig into her shoulder and she bites into his bottom lip so harshly it draws blood, but he doesn’t care, only follows her into bliss just a second later. With the last bit of his consciousness Harry pulls out right before he comes, covering her thigh with the white, sticky evidence of just how much he enjoyed the past minutes. 
They are breathing heavily and Harry feels like a thick haze is still lingering around his head, stopping him from realizing what just happened. Y/N however is ahead of him and when reality comes crashing down on her, her instinct to flee kicks right in. Harry is still trying to clear his mind when she grabs a paper towel and cleans herself up as fast as possible and Harry only snaps out of his trance when she is already unlocking the door.
“Y/N, what the— wait!” He can’t go after her as she slips out of the room because he is still pretty indecent, so he has to pull his pants up and can only rush out then, but by that time she is already gone.
He’s quite frantic as he tries to find her in the bar, but she is nowhere to be seen. Harry returns to the rest of their group, hoping to catch her somewhere but she has vanished into thin air. 
“Hey, have you seen Y/N?” he asks Mitch, his eyes still roaming the place.
“Nah, haven’t seen her since she went out to smoke.”
Harry groans and makes his way outside, maybe she’s there waiting for a car, but as he steps out to the street he sees no trace of her. Fishing his phone out of his pocket he doesn’t hesitate before dialing her number. The line rings once, twice and then… it goes to voicemail.
“Hey, this is Y/N. Do whatever you want after the beep.”
“Fuck!” Harry ends the call and he has to stop himself from throwing it against the nearest wall. 
This is not how he planned. Well, he didn’t plan any of it, especially not fucking Y/N like a horny teenager. He wanted to solve this whole issue between the two of them but instead he just created another one.
A stupid, giant one. 
NEXT PART
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luvjunie · 11 months
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— headcanons. miles morales (earth1610)
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MILES who somehow managed to pick you up with that corny little shoulder touch his Uncle Aaron taught him. Not because it actually worked and left you smitten and head over heels for him—but because in that moment, the dorky boy who stood in front of you had made you laugh so hard you’d nearly peed yourself. There was no way that with a sense of humor like his, he wasn’t getting your number.
MILES who has never missed a good morning or a goodnight text. While often they may not always be at the most ideal times, it’s the fact that he remembered that means the most to you. Even if he’s running late to school, shoes untied, and shirt buttoned unevenly as he bundles out the door of his dorm, he insists he can text and run to class at the same time. And at night, even if his eyelids feel as if they weigh a ton the minute his back finally hits his mattress after webbing the villain of the week to a light pole for the cops, he refuses to fall asleep without telling you he loves you first— though the message may include a few sleepy typos. “Goodnihgt aby i lov youuu” “shitno i meant baby not aby”
MILES who hand draws a card for you when the monthly anniversary of your relationship rolls by. Each one of them is different and creative in their own way and you’re always excited to see what it’ll look like this time. He’ll swiftly swing by your fire escape on his way to patrol, drop a box of chocolates, your favorite candy, or a bouquet of flowers on the steel metal along with the card, then switch arms and thwip another web to the next building in the same breath.
MILES who loves to draw you, especially when the two of you haven’t been able to hang out in a while, just so he can reminisce and pretend like you’re there, in his room with him. His sketchbook is filled with pictures of you, hearts usually adorning whatever space is left blank on the paper. He sees you in such a different light than you view yourself in, and he’s able to capture certain aspects of your features that you hadn’t even noticed before. He was so embarrassed the first time you saw his sketchbook laid open on his bed and tried to hide them from you, nervous he’d make you uncomfortable in any way. But you were nothing short of flattered, and reassured him of such by smattering kisses onto the expanse his flushed face and telling him how much of a sweetheart he was.
MILES who falls asleep in the span of two seconds. Usually when you can’t come over, you settle for long facetime calls so you can tell each other about your days, or watch a movie together. But he’s just so comfortable around you, and your voice is so calming, like a lullaby, so much so that he can’t help it when he falls asleep halfway into your rundown of events. After five minutes of silence, which is unheard of for a kid like Miles who is always filled with endless quips and jokes, you’ll scoop your phone off your bed only to see his ivory-colored ceiling instead of his face.
“Milesss!” You whine, the sudden sound of shuffling from the other end of the line erupting through your speakers as he frantically scoops his phone back up from his pillow, his sleepy face shifting back into view.
“Huh?” He mumbles, clearing his throat as he blinks the sleep from his eyes.
“You fell asleep in the middle of my story again.” You accuse.
“Nuh uh! I’ve been awake this whole time. I’m just a really, really good listener, m-hm. I am a wonderful and completely-awake, professional listener.” He nods, gifting you his signature goofy smile that‘s always a reminder that you can never be mad at him for long.
MILES who loves taking you to the new places he’s able to go around the city now that he’s Spiderman.
When you found out your boyfriend was Spiderman, you were in such disbelief that you immediately asked for proof, for him to show you anything that proved he was spiderman other than a suit and a mask. And proof you got, if the powerful gusts of wind in your face as he swung the two of you with web after web over the skyline of the city were anything to go by.
You were terrified the first time, legs glued around his waist and arms clamped so tightly around his neck that there was no way you’d fall. He would never in a million years let you slip from his grasp anyways, but if you did, you were damn sure taking him with you. He kept one arm around your waist for support and laughed at how you hollered almost the entire way to the clock tower, and whether they were screams of excitement or terror, he didn’t know.
It was beyond exhilarating, seeing the city from above with him, standing on the roofs of buildings you never imagined you’d reach. It had your heart pumping faster than you thought it ever could and your trust in him solidifying even further, and soon you found yourself asking him take you again, and again. And Miles would take you anywhere you wanted to go; open to doing anything just to see a smile on your face and to have you holding onto him like that again.
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- please do not plagiarize, copy, or repost my works to any other platforms
likes, comments, and reblogs are very appreciated 💗
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cowgurrrl · 1 year
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She’s A Gun
Pairing: Joel Miller x fem!reader
Author’s note: *John Mulaney voice* My wife is a bitch and I love her SO much (gif by @salome-c) I also didn’t know how to end this so sorry
Summary: Somebody didn’t give the new guy a heads up about talking about Joel Miller’s family [1.6k]
Warnings: idiots in love, a quick mention of a queer slur, I can’t think of anything else!!
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You catch him looking at you across the room as you sip some new whiskey Tommy traded for. He looks young and fresh-faced without many scars or littering the surface of his skin. His eyes are bright when they meet yours, and you give him a polite smile before returning to your drink. Unsurprisingly, he bellies up to the bar a few minutes later. You glance at the door, and the man follows your gaze. 
"You meeting someone?" He asks. The bartender, a kind man named Nick, flashes you a look, but you wave him off, turning to the younger man, who is dead set on making his presence known. 
"You must be new." You say, and he laughs as he holds out his hand. 
"You got me. I'm Luke," He says. You meet him halfway and shake his hand, giving him your name. "Where are you from?"
"I came here from Boston."
"You're a long way from home. What brought you here?" 
"Long story."
"Is it longer than the time it would take to get you another drink?" 
"I can get my own drink, but thank you."
"'Course," he says but doesn't move from his place next to you. "What do you do here in Jackson?" He asks, and you open your mouth to say something, but he cuts you off. "Let me guess. School teacher. No, a nurse."
"I work patrols, but good guess."
"Oh, I'm going to work patrols, too. I actually just signed up for my first shift tomorrow. Speaking of which, do you know anything about this guy… Miller, I think, is his name. I heard he's a hard ass."
"Joel or Tommy?"
"There's multiple?" He asks, and you smirk as you sip your drink.
"There's a few of 'em hanging around, yeah. What did they say? Maybe I can," you shrug and try to hide the amusement in your voice. "Help you figure it out."
"Well, this guy, Seth, said Miller shouldn't even be in Jackson. Something about him killing people to get by before coming here, but he gets to stay because he's buddies with Maria. Apparently, he's a hell of a shot, though. I heard a rumor that he once shot an Infected from a mile away, but I'll believe it when I see it." He says, and you nod. 
You remember that day well. Tommy had been bragging about his marksmanship, mostly telling big fish stories, and you finally got sick of it. Joel told you to leave it, but you had to see. When you went on patrol the next day, you and Tommy had a competition to see how far he could actually shoot. You passed the gun back and forth to see who could hit accurately and how far. You were the one holding the gun when the Infected bound his way up the hill and quickly went down as the bullet buried in his skull. You didn't think that story would've made the rounds, though. 
"What else did Seth say?" You ask, and he puffs his cheeks out as he shakes his head.
"He told me to stay away from him. Something about not fucking with people like that because he's ruthless, especially when it comes to his kid. He said Miller yelled at him last week because he said something to her. Just... totally lost his mind like a crazy person." It wasn't just something. He called my daughter a dyke, you think to yourself. Joel may have pushed him and made him leave, but you threatened to ruin his fucking life. If you ever hear him say something like that to Ellie again, you'll make Joel look like the poster child for forgiveness. You bite the inside of your cheek and save that information for later. 
Seth wasn't warning Luke about Joel. He was warning him about you.
"And you're sure he was talking about a man?"
"Pretty sure. I mean, I know people do lots of shitty things to stay alive, but I can't imagine a woman instilling that much fear in a man like Seth," He says, and you hum. "No offense."
"None taken." You smile and watch his guard come down just enough for him to feel comfortable reaching for your arm.
"I wish I had known they let women as beautiful as you out on patrol. I would've signed up with you instead of Miller." He says, and you almost gag. Joel's hand skims your lower back almost as if on cue, and you turn to face him. He kisses you a second too long before looking over your shoulder to face the stranger who looks embarrassed. His arm wraps protectively around your middle, and he's close enough that you can smell his shampoo over the bar’s stench of stale beer.
"Great timing. This is Luke. He's starting patrols tomorrow," You say. Joel reaches across the space to shake his hand, and Luke winces at his too-tight grip. "Luke, this is my husband, Joel Miller," you wish you had a camera to take a picture of the stunned look on his face when he hears the last name. "Joel, we were just talking about the last time I was on patrol with Tommy."
"You're Miller?" Luke asks, suddenly looking pale. "Why didn't you say anything?"
"Oh, I thought I mentioned it. I'm sorry, I'm probably losing my mind." You echo Seth's words and smack yourself on the forehead dramatically. Luke drains his drink before glancing around the room.
"It was great to meet you, man. Um, I'm gonna run to the bathroom really fast." He says and takes several steps away from the bar. 
"Oh, so soon? I was hoping you and Joel could talk about routes."
"Maybe later." He says, and with that, he's gone. You smile and turn in Joel's arms to face him.
"Jesus, I thought he was going to have a heart attack. What did you say to him?" 
"Seth was warning him about the mercenary who's buddies with Maria and shot an Infected from a mile away, asked if I knew anything about the guy."
"Seth should learn to keep his fuckin' mouth shut." He grumbles, and you nod.
"It didn't help his case that he tried flirting with me. Even asked if I was a school teacher." You say, and he gives you a look. His warm fingers reach under your shirt collar to pull out the chain with your wedding band on it.
"Maybe if you actually wore this, that wouldn't happen so often."
"C'mon, everybody knows I'm yours. It's not my fault no one gave him the run down," you say, and he tugs on the chain to kiss you, his big hands moving to hold your jaw. He swallows your gasp when he licks into your mouth, sending a zing of electricity down your spine. He's a touch too handsy for a public space, but you're not complaining. "I don't see you wearing yours out on patrol either." You say, pulling away before he can start something he can't finish, at least not in public. Still, his hand slips into your back pocket, squeezing your ass through the denim.
"Don't want to lose a finger. Besides, everybody knows I'm yours," he parrots, and you smile. A familiar, old country song plays over the speakers, and Joel lights up at the first few chords. "Will you dance with me?" He asks, pressing light kisses to your jaw to butter you up. You lock your arms around his shoulders and let yourself forget about everyone else in the bar. 
"And to think there was a time when you hated PDA."
"That was before someone tried hittin' on my wife," he says, and you feel like your face will get stuck from smiling so much. It's been three months since the small backyard wedding officiated by Tommy and Maria. Ellie walked you down the aisle— more of a patch of grass than anything else— and acted as your maid of honor. When Tommy asked if she agreed to give you to Joel, she said, "it's not like she's fucking property, but sure." She beamed so brightly when she realized you each included her in your vows, promising to love and protect her as much as you love and protect each other. It wasn't planned, but the unexpected matching further proved that you three are a family. Still, you don't know if you'll ever get used to hearing Joel call you his wife. "Dance with me, please." He pouts into your neck, and you finally give in, grabbing his hand and leading him to the dance floor. 
He pulls you close, and you bury your face in his neck as you slowly dance to Tanya Tucker's voice. He sings along for only you to hear, his accent getting stronger as he does. You could stay like this forever, wrapped up in him and listening to him sing the same song you used to sing along to while driving on backroads. You would marry him again if you could. You think you would marry him in every lifetime.
Scary rumors of mercenaries and blood on your hands fade from your mind. To men like Seth and Luke, you are a subversion of their holy mother. You are bloody and broken, a monster beyond saving. You are a warzone with a heartbeat.
But to Joel, you are the most sacred thing he's ever held. It's not enough to erase the rumors and nightmares about you, but it's enough to knock the wind out of you and make you love your husband that much more. That has to count for something. 
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Tag list: @evyiione
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f1goat · 2 months
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more than friends ; lando norris + part four
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In which your best friend is going to help you to gain more sexual experience and say goodbye to your insecurities, but he's quick to discover that he never wants to share you and your new experiences with others - the only problem being, him having to confess his feelings.
masterlist - playlist
fem!y/n x lando norris
warnings: smut with a plot. minors dni! probably grammar or spelling errors due to english not being my first language.
requested: yes, based on this request: something with a driver sister that’s still a virgin & lando (her bestfriend) suggests to teach her things
a/n: this is a rewritten story, you can find the explanation on my profile
part one / part two / part three
“Lan,” you shyly start your sentence, “when erm, when are we going to have sex?” You continue your question. You feel your cheeks reddening while asking your friend that question. Lando almost drops his phone when he hears your question. He sends you a confused look. 
“What’s with the hurry?” He asks you with the same confused tone in his voice. 
You let out a nervous laugh. “This is going to sound really stupid,” you confess, “but there’s this guy who asked me on a date.” 
“So?” Lando asks. He already feels his jealousy coming up. Someone asked you on a date? He wonders who asked you and if you said yes to the guy. Maybe Max was right and he should just ask you on a date himself. Maybe that would stop this mess.
“I kinda want to say yes,” you tell Lando nervously, “but I want to wait for when I’m not a virgin anymore.” Lando shoots you another confused look, he doesn’t get why that would help with the date. “I uh, think it’s better for my confidence,” you explain. You don’t mention that you want to make sure that Lando is the one who takes your virginity. 
Lando stays silent for a couple minutes. He thinks about how he can handle this properly. His first choice would be to let you stall the date for like forever, but he knows that will only bite him in the ass. “How long can you stall him?” Lando asks you eventually. When you keep your silence to think, Lando adds a few more words. “I don’t think it’s smart to rush this,” he explains himself.
“I already told him that I’d be away for three weeks,” you reply, “so at least that time. And maybe I can add another week when we’re back, blaming it on a jet lag or something.”
Lando feels a bit more relieved. Three or four weeks. A lot can change in that time, right? Maybe he will finally find the confidence to tell you about his feelings for you. Maybe not. Probably not, now that he thinks of it. He has this feelings for you since forever and all those years weren’t enough for him to gain the confidence to tell you… He lets out a soft sigh, he needs to think of a plan. 
“That’ll work I guess,” Lando says eventually.
“So what’s next?” You ask Lando, “I feel like there’s so much you still have to teach me.”
“Relax babygirl,” Lando says, “I think we first need to focus on how I’m going to pack my suitcase with stuff for three weeks in only an hour.” 
“You didn’t pack yet?” You ask Lando, “We’re leaving in an hour!”
“Oops?” Lando laughs. 
You let out a sigh. It doesn’t even surprise you that Lando didn’t pack yet. “You never change,” you tell Lando with a small smile on your face. Then you stand up to help Lando pack his stuff, just like you always do. It doesn’t take the two of you that long to pack all his stuff. Like always, you secretly put some shirts and short pants into Lando his luggage. He’s always to stubborn to pack anything else then hoodies, and that without checking the weather. Something you did for sure when you packed your own stuff, so you know for sure that he can use some clothes that’s more suitable for the hot weather. 
“Thanks babygirl,” Lando says after closing the last zipper from his suitcase. He moves closer to you and presses a soft kiss against your forehead. You don’t know what has gotten into you, but you are quick to press your lips against Lando his lips. Without giving it a second thought, you kiss Lando. You feel him smiling through the kiss. He pulls you closely to himself and wraps his arms around your body.
The kiss was meant innocent and short, but Lando is quick to turn it into something more. His hands are roaming over your body. It doesn’t take him long before finding your ass and giving it a couple squeezes. You let out a soft moan. You feel it vibrate against Lando his lips. 
Lando his ringtone distracts the both of you from what you’re doing. You watch how he picks his phone up and say a simple okay after a few seconds of listening. “The cab is here,” he informs you, you reply with a small nod. Lando grabs his luggage and as much of yours as he can manage. Leaving you to only hold two small bags with your own stuff. 
“You know, you’re a great kisser,” Lando says while walking towards the cab.
“I learned from the best,” you joke with an innocent smile.
Lando lets out a soft laugh. “Imagine how great you will be with everything else with such a good teacher,” he continues to joke.
“We’ll see.”
+++
Lando sighs when he takes place in his drivers room. You don’t know what to say to him. He just lost a great qualifying lap due to track limits. If he didn’t lose the lap, he would have started second tomorrow. You are pretty sure that Lando is really mad at himself right now. He always is. Whenever something doesn’t go perfect, he’s blaming himself for it. Right now Lando is softly muttering to himself. You can’t hear exactly what he’s saying, but you guess it’s something in the line of him calling himself an idiot and a bad driver. It makes you feel hurt. You have been here for a lot of his highs and lows since he has his seat with McLaren. You have seen him upset with himself many times before, but it never hurts less. 
“Lan,” you softly say, hoping for a response. He doesn’t even look at you while responding. “Don’t say it’s not my fault,” Lando states, “I’m the one who get track limits. I’m the one to blame. I’m the one who fucked up.”
You think about what to say, but you know that a lot of you guesses aren’t the right one. You can say so many things to Lando about he will do better tomorrow and that he’s still starting in the top ten, but it’s not what he wants to hear right now. Eventually you decide to throw it on a whole other subject.
“Maybe I can cheer you up?” You suggests.
Lando looks up and stares at you. “Cheer me up?” He asks confused. 
“Distract you a bit,” you continue shyly. 
“What do you mean babygirl?” Lando asks you even more confused.
“What about another lesson?” You ask Lando, “You could teach me how to give you a blowjob.”
“You don’t have to,” Lando quickly says, “I didn’t even went down on you yet.”
“I want to,” you reply to him, “and I think it will do a great job with cheering you up.” 
“Sure?” Lando asks a bit confused. You nod. “Words babygirl,” Lando reminds you about his need for you to say everything out loud. “Yes Lando,” you say, “I want to give you a blowjob.” Lando his facial expressions are quick to brighten up. He’s already smiling while thinking about your lips around his dick. It even causes his dick to get hard already. 
“But, you need to tell me what to do,” you tell Lando a bit nervous. He nods eagerly. Then he grabs one of your hands and brings it to his boner. You don’t wait for another instruction and start to palm his boner through his race suit. Lando stays silent for a while, enjoying your slow movements in peace. When you apply a bit more pressure, the first soft moan leaves his lips. In the mean time you press a kiss against Lando his cheek. 
After a few minutes of moving slowly with your hand on his bulge, you try to grab his dick through his race suit. Lando groans when he feels your hand on his dick. He wants nothing more then to feel your skin on his own. He needs to lose the suit. Without thinking about it Lando pulls down the zipper of his race suit. While he unzips his suit, you take a good look at him. It’s almost unfair how good Lando is looking. Since when does his fireproof so much to you?
“Can I take it off?” Lando asks you. 
“Yes please,” you are eager to answer. 
You move your hands away from him, giving him the space to pull of his race suit. Lando grins because of your reaction. He kicks off his shoes and then removes his suit from his body. It feels so strange to see Lando standing in front of you in only his underwear, but then you remember that he’ll lose those in a few seconds too. 
Before Lando can pull of his briefs, you move your lips against his bare chest. Softly you press multiple kisses against his chest. Slowly you move down towards his boxers. In the mean time you still have his boner in your hands. You stroke him softly. When you reach the edge with your mouth, you stop with stroking. Slowly you pull down Lando his boxers. His hard member is quick to pop out of his briefs. Lando finishes your action and takes his boxers off. 
You take your time to look at his dick. It’s the first you see in real life. Of course you have seen some porn movies before, so you have a clear image from how a dick can look. But in a weird way, Lando his member seems more appealing to you. His member is pretty, if you can say it like that. You never thought you’d find a dick pretty. Lando looks at you while you stare at his member. You notice the thick vein that’s laying on his dick. Now that you think about it, his whole boner seems to be at the thick side. Maybe it’s not as long as in the porn movies, but you already guesses that was a bit over the top. You wonder how Lando his thick member will fit inside your mouth and one day inside your vagina. 
“If you’re not sure, you don’t have to do this,” Lando tells you softly.
“No,” you quickly reply. “I want to do this, but you need to tell me what to do.”
Lando grins happily. He’s glad you still want to continue with this. He wasn’t sure if a cold shower would have helped this time. In the mean time you move your hands back to Lando his dick. Lando feels himself hardening under your touch. Has he ever been this hard? You slowly explore his member with your hand. At first you trace the vein laying on top of it with one of your fingers. Then you softly touch his tip. You wait for Lando to say something.
“Lick it a bit,” Lando instructs you. You notice the change of his voice tone. “Make it wet,” he adds. He almost sounds strict. It gives you weird butterflies. 
You take his words into action. Without giving it a second thought, you move your head closer to his member. Carefully you let your tongue come in contact with him. Slowly you lick around his member. Lando lets out a soft moan. You continue your movements. You let your tongue slide over his dick. Exploring the way it feels on your tongue. 
“Put it into your mouth babygirl,” Lando continues to instruct you. He needs to make sure that his dick has been inside your mouth before he cums. All the teasing you’re doing - without even knowing it, is already making him close to getting his orgasm. 
Again you do what Lando says. Carefully you take the top of his dick inside your mouth. Your mouth is quick to feel fulled up. You try to go as deep as you can, but you’re quick to feel some tears popping up in the corners of your eyes.
“Slowly baby,” Lando quickly says when he notices the tears as well, “you don’t have to take everything inside. The top is the most sensitive part.”
You pull back for a bit. Letting his member out of your mouth. Before taking it back inside, you take a deep breath. You try to remember Lando his words. You make sure that the top of his boner is inside your mouth. It feels like you have room for a bit more, so carefully you take him a bit deeper into your mouth. You remind yourself to take your time. Lando his hands has found their way into your hair. Softly he plays with your hair. You lick a bit around his tip with your tongue. Lando rewards you with a moan. It makes you feel good, giddy even, when he reacts like that. 
“Move your head up and down,” Lando instructs you, “Try to make the same stroking movement as before, but now with you mouth.”
Again you take Lando his words into action. Slowly you move your head up and down. You let your mouth slide over his dick a couple times. Lando lets out another moan. You feel proud to be the reason behind those moans. You suck a bit harder onto his dick. Without giving it a second thought, you use your hand to hold the part that doesn’t fit into your mouth. You start to stroke it, alining the movements with the bobbing you do with your mouth. 
“Fuck babygirl,” Lando groans, “You’re really good at this.”
His words make you feel even better. It causes you to fasten your movements. You try to lick his tip as well in the mean time. Lando is quick to become a moaning mess underneath your touch. You feel the way his dick is pulsing inside your mouth. 
“If you don’t want to taste, you should finish it with your hands,” Lando says after a while. You don’t act on his words. Simply you keep continuing your earlier movements. 
Lando can’t stop looking at you while feeling this close to his orgasm. He is still holding your hair in his hands, softly he tugs onto it for a bit. The way you stare at his dick while you’re making him feel like this, turns him on even more. There have been enough girls who have given him a blowjob, but none of them felt like this. He can’t understand how it is possible that you’re so good at everything already. How can it be that someone with no sexual experience is so much better then everyone else? It’s insane. 
“Last warning baby,” Lando warns you with a soft voice. You still don’t remove your mouth from his dick. If he didn’t said anything, you still could have guessed that he’s close to his orgasm. His moans are giving it away. They are becoming more messier and louder with the second. You try to take his dick even further into your mouth. Before you know it, you notice a salty taste inside your mouth. You’re quick to connect the dots and realize what just happened. Lando just came undone.
You decrease your pace, but still keep sucking him off. There are a couple more drops of Lando his cum that are finding their way inside of your mouth. When you think he’s completely empty, you remove your mouth from him. While looking at Lando you swallow his cum. 
“Fuck,” Lando groans, “I could cum again by looking at you doing that.”
You show Lando a small innocent smile. He pulls you onto himself. “Don’t look that innocent baby, not after what you just did,” he tells you. You can’t react to him. He is presses a soft kiss against your cheek before doing the same against your lips. 
“If I told you that this was the best blowjob of my life, would you believe me?” Lando asks you after a bit of a comfortable silence.
“No,” you reply while shaking your head.
“You just did babygirl,” Lando confesses, “I have never experienced a blowjob this good.”
You let out a soft chuckle. “Maybe that says something about the other blowjobs you have gotten,” you say.
“No,” Lando quickly states, “It says everything about you. You’re incredibly good at this baby. And you did find an excellent way to distract me from stupid qualifying lap.”
You laugh. “I’ll remember that for the next time,” you say jokingly. Lando laughs and nods eagerly. “But don’t beat yourself up because of it Lan. Everyone can make mistakes. I’m sure you’ll be fighting for great points tomorrow, I even dare to say that you’ll end up on the podium,” you tell Lando.
“If I get a podium, I’m celebrating with eating you out,” Lando states confidently.
“That’s not a celebration,” you laugh. 
“It is for me.”
Fuck, why is you stomach tightening because of Lando his words? This really can’t be good.
+++
Later that evening Lando and you are sitting in a small restaurant together. He’s sitting next to you, together you’re pressed up closely on a small couch. Oscar and Lily are sitting in front of you. Lando is getting more annoying with the second, he has hunger and absolutely no patience for his food to come. He already toyed with everything on the table and now it’s your turn apparently. 
Lando his hand finds your upper thigh. You almost jump up. He toys with the short skirt you’re wearing. When you feel his hand getting closer to your private parts, you stop him with you own hand. What is he doing? Lando is quick to find his way back to your thigh and squeezes it softly. You can’t help yourself and let out a soft whimper. 
“You okay Y/N?” Lily asks you. 
You send Lando an angry look before answering Oscars girlfriend. “Yeah, just hungry,” you tell her jokingly. It’s enough for Lando to give you a bit more space. He moves himself a bit more away from you. When you feel his hand leave your upper leg, you’re quick to take action. Within milliseconds you have his hand in your own and guide it back towards your thigh. With one stern look you hope he will behave himself. 
Before Lando can do anything stupid, the food is already arriving to your table. Quietly everyone takes their time to eat. Lando - who had a lot of hunger before, is the first one to finish. Meaning he is keeping up the conversations with Oscar, but also has his hands free again. While he talks to Oscar he lets his hand find it’s way back to your leg. 
At first you don’t give it any attention. But when you feel Lando his hand getting under your skirt and his fingers grace against your clothed pussy, you can’t help yourself anymore. You almost choke in a piece of your meal. Loudly you cough. Lando plays the worried friend and hands you your drink, while his other hand is still coming closer towards your private parts then before. You cough another few times, before standing up and announcing that you’re going to the bathroom. 
“You’re quite touchy,” Oscar mentions when you walk away. Lando gives his teammate and friend a confused look. It can’t be that Oscar noticed what he did, right? “You’re never this close to Y/N,” Oscar continues, “Are you two finally dating?” 
Lando laughs. Why does everyone think the two of you are dating? He wish it was like that. To answer Oscar he shakes his head and tells him no, “Still friends.”
“Sure about that?” Oscar asks his friend. Lando notices the way Lily is also looking at him with raised eyebrows. 
“I think I would notice it if I were dating with her, don’t you think?” Lando jokes a bit. He feels his phone vibrating in his pocket and decides to look at it. He’s quick to notice a message coming from you. 
Y/N: i hate you
Lando: you hate me?
Y/N: you made me horny
Lando doesn’t even notice that Oscar is talking to him, until Oscar says his name a couple times. “Then you must have gotten text messages from someone you’re dating with,” Oscar sighs. Lando sends him a confused look, “No, it’s Y/N,” he says even confused. Then he realizes that it probably wasn’t smart to say that you’re texting him. “She isn’t feeling well,” he quickly adds.
Lando: come back here, I told them you’re not feeling well
Lando: we can go back to the hotel right away
Lando: and then I might help you with your problem ;)
Y/N: you better help me with the problem you caused.
Lando smiles at his phone again. 
Not even twenty minutes later Lando and you are back at the hotel room you share together. Lando is pressed up against you. Something that happens quite a lot lately. His hands have found their way back to your thigh. You can’t stop yourself from letting out a soft whimper. 
“You’re the worst,” you softly say the Lando.
“The worst?” He asks you, “I think I’m the one who makes you feel the best you’ve ever done.” 
You can’t argue with that logic from him. Lando his hand is coming closer to where you want him the most right now. Teasingly he drags his finger over your panties a couple time. When you almost make another remark about him teasing you, Lando pulls your string aside. 
“I want to taste you,” Lando groans. He feels the wetness that he caused earlier. When he looks at you, he’s surprised to see you shake your head. Are you telling him no? “No?” He asks a bit confused. 
“First a podium,” you tell Lando teasingly. 
He lets out a grunt. 
“You wanted to celebrate like that,” you remind Lando, “so earn it tomorrow with a podium.”
Lando can’t help it and lets out a soft whine. “You’re the worst,” he repeats your earlier words to you. You don’t reply verbally, you just show Lando a innocent smile. It surprises you when Lando lets his finger enter you. You almost expected that he wasn’t going to continue as payback. His sudden movement cause you to let out a moan. 
When he uses his finger to draw circles on your clit, it doesn’t take you long to come close to your orgasm. “I’m close,” you tell Lando.
“How close?” He asks you. 
“Really close,” you confess.
“Ask for my permission,” Lando instructs you, “I won’t let you cum without it.”
You don’t even think about his words. Before you realize it, pleas are coming from your lips. Begging Lando to make you cum. “Please Lan,” you beg. Lando has a smug smile plastered on his face. He’s enjoying this way too much. He feels you whimpering underneath his touch. “Please,” you beg him again, “Make me cum.” 
“Cum babygirl,” he tells you eventually. He increases his pace and adds another finger into your pussy. It causes you to release everything within seconds. With a trail of moans you come undone. Lando removes his fingers and pulls you closer. He puts his fingers inside his mouth to suck them clean. 
“Now I really have to get a podium tomorrow,” he tells you a bit jokingly. You send him a confused look, still not getting his wish to eat you out. “This taste is already doing things to me,” Lando continues, “and I can’t wait to get addicted to it properly.” 
part five
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weeknd-ogoc · 5 months
Text
BEAUTIFUL ⋆.*ೃ✧ LOGAN SARGEANT
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SUMMARY: in which logan makes sure to never treat you the way you got treated before. (ft. oscar piastri)
FACE CLAIM: noriella
CONTAINS: memories of toxic ex!oscar, some angst, logan being a sweetheart, reader trying to unlearn toxic behavior!
AUTHOR'S NOTE: this was origanlly supposed to be posted on friday but i had things come up so anyways i'm happy they renewed logan's contract, i was literally stressing out about it!!
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ynusername
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ynusername missed being in new york
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logansargeant my very beautiful girl! 😍
ynusername thank you, my loveee 😚
username ahh why are you so pretty
icespice hmu girlyy
username 😍😍
username why does she never post logan??
username he literally took this picture of her and he posted her on his story this morning! username right!! she used to post oscar all the time! username ya'll are so weird it's literally her page
username im gripping my sheets so tight right now
just before the formula one season could be over, you had invited logan to come meet your family and friends over in new york and so far he was winning your friends over.
"ugh he's so good to you!" your best friend smiled as she looked at logan who was going up to the cashier to pay the check.
"he's very cute." your other best friend agreed. "so much better than oscar..."
you awkwardly chuckled as you remembered the time oscar had came to new york and promised you he would meet everyone for dinner but it never happened due to him supposedly forgetting about the dinner and never showed up — your friends and family saw how you were stopping your life just to chase after oscar but they could see how it is very different with logan.
once logan returned you all said your goodbyes and the two of you headed outside, like the gentleman he was he opened the door for you. he saw that you shivered on your walk down the block to his car so he wrapped his coat around you. "it's too cold out here, maybe you can come to florida with me next week to meet my folks and friends?"
you wrapped your arms around his neck and nodded. "i would love to meet them."
he kissed your lips and rested his forhead on yours. "god, i love you." he quickly realized what he said and tried laughing it off. "i'm sorry that slipped out." he then winced at his choice of words. "well i do love you but i know it may be too soo-"
you kissed him once more and even if you weren't sure of your feelings for him, you decided to say the words you knew he wanted to hear from you. "i love you too sargeant."
logansargeant
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logansargeant life recently
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ynusername ah i love you!!! 💙
logansargeant i love you more!
username im in shock right now
username you see how he posts her more 😭
liamlawson30 happy for you man!
logansargeant thank you!
username i know oscar is crying somewhere
landonorris probably username lando no 😭😭😭
username ugh you guys are so cute
landonorris 😧 i didn't know y/n was down like that
ynusername well only for logan 🤭 liked by logansargeant
oscar piastri had found himself alone looking at old photos of the two of you that he had on his phone — the both of you had been seeing each other for a few months but never made it official, just because he never wanted to put a label on it and before he knew it you had fallen into the hands of an old friend of his.
"no it's all good, i'm happy for you guys..." he remembered telling logan. "i'm glad the both of you are happy."
he didn't blame you for moving on, he treated you real shitty for the very few months you guys were together. you had stopped everything going on in your life just to be there for him and he couldn't find himself to do the same for you.
"promise you'll show up for dinner?" you had asked oscar as he was getting ready to go hang out with lando for a few hours. "my friends and family will all be there."
"i already told lando i had to leave by six so i can make it to the restaurant on time." he remembered swearing that he would be there on time. "wouldn't miss it for the world."
hours later you had found yourself having dinner with everyone and oscar was nowhere to be found.
"i mean we're not even dating yet, what's the rush to meet her family?" he asked lando who was taking pictures of the city. "i'm not even sure if i can see us together in the long run."
lando knew the way oscar was treating you and he spoke up about it a few times to him, he even tried getting you to leave him but the both of you just never listened.
"she's a cool girl, what's not to like about her? plus i think she is way better than the last girl, the pescatarian." lando then shrugged. "but if that's how you feel just skip it."
so that was exactly what he did.
the next morning he knew the two of you were supposed to go to breakfast around nine so he went over to your apartment to pick you up and you had been sitting on your porch in pajamas.
"that's how you're going?" he chuckled. "i mean you look cute s-"
you rolled your eyes at him. "what happened last night?"
"last night?"
yeah, in that moment he thought playing dumb was his best option.
if you could throw the pot of flowers at his head without going to jail you probably would do it. "last night. what the fuck happened to you?"
he saw people trying to look outside of your window from your house and he turned back to you. "get in the car, we'll tal-"
“not until you tell me what why you miss-” 
he looked at your window once more and saw that they were still looking out. "can you not yell right now..." he rubbed his forehead and looked back at you. “alright stop being dramatic and just get in the car.” 
he talked like this to you whenever you guys got into arguments except this time he was being quieter, you knew your parents were most likely looking out the window which is why he wasn't yelling back at you.
he looked once more to the window and saw that they were gone so he quickly walked over to you and tried dragging you towards his car but you were not budging like you usually did. “can we please just go? i don't get why this has to be a big fucking thing.” 
you scoff and shrug his arm off your wrist. "i think you need to leave oscar."
he knew he was about to lose his temper with you so instead of saying something rude he clenched his jaw and pinched the bridge of his nose. "fine, we can talk whenever you get over this stupid thing."
as he turned around to walk away, you grabbed his wrist.
him not fight back was making your blood boil. "i don't understand this oscar, what we have going on!"
the change in your voice made him upset because he knew he had no right to be mad at you, he was the one that stood up you and the people who meant the most to you.
"one minute you're treating me like i'm the love of your life and the next minute you act like i mean nothing to you." he saw your lower lip trembles as you spoke. “i will not allow yo-” 
he knew where this was going so he began mumbling out little apologies but you shook your head. "i deserve better than this oscar."
he knew that at the time he couldn't give you better so he let you go.
ynusername
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ynusername i like florida weather better ☀️
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lilymhe please why are you so hot 😍
ynusername 😚😚 alex_albon delete these comments rn ynusername stop being a hater
username in y/n we trust
username alright we're getting better with the posting
logansargeant i think you should marry me
ynusername yes, buy me my ring :))
logan remembered the time he had introduced you to oscar, he really thought you wouldn't find interest in someone like him but you did and soon after he regretted introducing you guys — months later he once overheard an argument that oscar and you had, he quickly learned that the person he knew most of his whole life was not the best person.
"oscar, why don't you just take a walk..." he told him as he heard the argument getting more serious.
oscar huffed and walked back to where lando was.
"does he always talk to you like that?"
you sighed as you sat on the bench. "sometimes but it was my fault, i should've just listened to him..."
he made sure to let you know that he's be there for you if you ever needed to talk and you did go to him a few times.
he hated how oscar treated you, if it had been him he'd give you the whole world. it was so stupid to introduce you guys.
"you deserve better than that y/n." he told you after you had called him about oscar missing dinner. "i have to go but i'll see you on sunday for the race in miami!"
he didn't see you that day or two weeks later in italy.
during media day in italy, he overheard lando tell oscar that you leaving him was for the best since the relationship was toxic. he was glad you had finally left him and invited you to race in monaco.
"sure logan, i'll be there for you!"
from then on the both of you were almost inseparable, you had modeling gigs so you couldn't always be there for his races but he flew out to see you whenever he could.
he dreaded the day when he had to tell oscar that the two of you were seeing each other but it had to be done. "we just connected a little while after you guys stopped talking and then i recently asked her out so i just wanted to tell you that."
oscar nodded. "i'm glad the both of you are happy, especially her because she really deserves something good in her life."
ynusername
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username not oscar in her likes
logansargeant MY QUEEN 💙
username love u so baddd
oscarpiastri 😍
username stand up oscar! username logan come get ur girl before oscar does
username mother
alexandrasaintmleux bonitaa
you slammed the door on logan as you walked into his apartment but you sighed and quickly opened it for him. "i'm sorry i didn't mean to close it on you."
he knew you were trying to unlearn certain things that you had done with oscar in the past so he was always super patient with you and tried giving you space when he thought you needed it.
he sat next to you on the couch and tried reaching out for your hand but you shrugged it off. "i wasn't trying to accuse you of seeing him but when i saw oscar's name pop up on your pho-"
he knew you were still mad after you stood up from the couch with a huff. "i haven’t spoken to him since that day logan!"
you sighed once more because he never raised his voice with you and you headed into his bedroom but he followed you, knowing that you didn't mean to raise your voice.
“ugh i suck, you are so kind with me and i'm trying to not do these things and i jus-"
he softly tugged on your arm to get you to face him and tried to move one of the strands in your hair to your ear but you sorta flinched as he rose his arm.
you quickly turned to look away from him, hoping he didn’t just notice that and start asking questions. “um, can i just have a minute log-“
he knew the way your body reacted when you were irritated and that was definitely not it. “did he hit you before?” he asked and as you shook your head no. “i swear to god if he did i-“
“no.” you sat at the edge of his bed and he sat next to you. “our arguments got pretty bad sometimes and there were times that maybe i thought he would but he never did…”
he pulled you onto his lap and held your hands in his. "you do know i would never do anything anything like that to you, right?” he got you to look up to him. "like ever."
you nodded and rested your head on his shoulder. "i know that."
he held you by the waist and let your bodies fall into the bed and you felt his eyes on you so you look back up to him — he looked at you differently this time and it just made you struggle to keep yourself all together.
"you are so beautiful like ridiculously beautiful."
you rolled your eyes as your cheeks were burning hot and brought his face down for a kiss. "and you're ridiculously handso-"
he kissed you once more and pulled away, lips barely touching yours.
and just before he could say the word he wanted to tell you, you had jumped to straddle him and already beaten him to it. "i love you so mu-"
he quickly started tickling you for saying it first and flipped you over so now he was hovering you, the sounds of your beautiful laughter was like music to his ears.
"alright, i'm sorry!" you giggled and tried pushing him off but instead he kissed you softly. "you're forgiven, i love you."
the next kiss you guys shared was a little more rough and your hand began to pull down his zipper from his jeans. "need to reward you for getting your contract renewed."
ynusername
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ynusername photo buffet 🤍
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username aww you guys got a dog?? 😭
ynusername we did! her name is crystal!
username ugh you guys compliment each other so well
francisca.cgomes when's the next wag renuion?
lilymhe we should definitely fly out to paris! ynusername i'll be free next weekend! alexandrasaintmleux guess we're all going to paris next weekend!
username me and who??
username when is it my turn 😩
logansargeant 💙
williamsracing our favorites! 💙
liked by ynusername, logansargeant
ynusername 💙 alex_albon what i thought lily and i were??? williamsracing oh gtg 🏃🏻‍♂️
logan and you had recently bought an apartment together in florida and as you sat on the porch with crystal, you saw a familiar car pull up.
you've got to be kidding me.
"why are you here oscar?" you asked as he walked towards you.
he shrugged and sat on the chair next to you. "i've been in florida for about a week, i wanted to see if maybe we could've given us another sho-"
you shook your head and stood up. "don't, it's been over for us."
oscar nodded and stood up. "i know that now, i saw you guys the other day and you looked incredibly happy and you deserve that happiness..."
logan was walking outside with your cup of tea but quickly stopped himself when he saw oscar. "everything okay?"
you nodded and gave him a reassuring smile. "i'll be in a second."
he nodded and walked inside, crystal following behind him. you had never given him any reason to think you were doing something you weren't supposed to be doing so he let you guys talk but made sure to keep a close eye.
"i'm sorry for the way i treated you those months, it was a very shitty thing to do because you never deserved that and honestly i feel like maybe i shouldn't have came to tell you all of this." he rubbed his forhead and looked towards his car. "i don't know i just think deep down i wanted to know how you still felt about me or if maybe we could still be friends..."
you sighed. "i dont know if you're looking for forgiveness or what but i know i didn't deserve how you treated me so i forgive you but we can not be friends oscar so i need you to please leave."
he nodded and began walking towards his car but turned back to you, who was already walking inside your house. "you're truly happy?"
you turned back to him and nodded. "happiest i have ever been, i love logan and he treats me good."
once you got back inside oscar watched your window from the inside his of his car — he had kissed your forhead and you looked up to him with the same bright eyes you once gave him, except now they shined even brighter for him.
if only he had treated you better before then maybe instead of logan he could've had this same ending with you.
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my f1 & f2 masterlist!
© weeknd-ogoc, 2023
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rocketrhap3000 · 9 months
Text
suffocate me with your love
summary: as requested by this anon, reader overhears bucky complaining about how clingy she is but doesn’t hear the full story, causing her to distance herself from him and unintentionally breaking both of their hearts
warnings: reader deals with some self loathing stemming from childhood fears, a few swears, this is pretty angsty but i promise there’s a happy ending
a/n: thank you for the request! as i said, this is such a personal topic for me and writing this was so healing to be honest. i hope it can bring some comfort for anyone else who’s been told they’re too clingy or attached. you are loved and you deserve love 🤍
main masterlist here
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The little white cat on your lap lifts her head and stands up in alert when she hears the front door click open, signaling your boyfriend's arrival back to his apartment. Next, you hear Bucky’s footsteps tread softly over where you and Alpine have cozied up on the couch in the living room, and before you know it, he’s falling down beside you, careful not to crush the cat on the couch with you.
“Hey, Buck,” you giggle as he leans into you.
“Mm, hi,” he murmurs back. “Missed you today, Sweets,” Bucky breathes as he wraps his arms around you, holding you to him.
“Missed you, too,” you sigh back, loving how safe and secure you feel in his arms.
It’s been almost four months since Bucky officially asked you out. Before that, the two of you tiptoed around each other for nearly a year, starting when you first moved into the apartment next to his in the Tower, when you became a part of the science and research team with Banner. Bucky is the sweetest man you’ve ever met, and you have always felt safe around him and loved by him.
However, you have an underlying fear that you just can’t seem to shake, even though you’re extremely happy with Bucky. As a child, your family constantly told you how clingy and desperate for affection and attention you were. You couldn’t help it, though, no matter how many times they told you to stop being so attached. You just crave affection and closeness with those you love, and that includes Bucky, now. He’s never given you a hard time about it, though; in fact, he’s always reciprocated your touch and affection. He’s never once made you feel too clingy or attached, and you always feel loved and cared for by him.
“How were my two girls today?” he asks as he pulls away enough to just settle at your side instead, and you smile as you watch Alpine climbs right into his lap.
“Good,” you smile bashfully, resting your head on his flesh shoulder and leaning into him.
“Have you eaten dinner yet?” he asks, softly rubbing your arm with the hand that’s wrapped around you.
“No,” you murmur, trying to get as close to him as you possibly can. “Was waiting for you. What are you hungry for?”
“Anything you want, Sweets,” he smiles and kisses your temple.
This right here? Absolute bliss.
~♡~
Later in the week, you go to visit Bucky and Sam after their training session with some new recruits. He’d told you they’d be done around noon, and he offered to take you to lunch afterwards. Going out with Bucky always filled you with such unbridled joy, one like none other. Something about being with him just made you so giddy, like a little girl with a school crush.
You smile to yourself as you hear Bucky’s familiar chuckle voice off the halls as you make your way to find him. But when you pick up the conversation between him and Sam, your stomach starts to churn.
“God, I need a break from her,” you hear your boyfriend’s voice come from the kitchen, immediately grabbing your attention.
Who is “her”?
“Don’t even get me started,” you hear Sam scoff his reply. “I saw her practically up your shirt the other day and I felt the urge to swoop in and save you.”
Your brain automatically goes to the worst case scenario. Sam had walked in on you and Bucky cuddling in the common room watching a movie the other day. Is that what he’s talking about?
“Why didn’t you?” Bucky playfully yells. “Man, I thought she’d get the hint by now. She literally won’t leave me alone. It’s like she’s a leech or something.”
Your heart begins to race and tears begin to burn at the back of your eyes. He has to be talking about you, surely. You know you’re so clingy; he’s just been hiding how annoyed he’s been by you, just to save your feelings.
“Have you told her?” Sam asks.
“No,” Bucky sighs.
“Why the hell not?” Sam laughs.
“I don’t want to be an asshole, you know? She’s annoying, but I still don’t want to hurt her feelings,” Bucky explains.
“It’s not being an asshole to tell her you need your space, man,” you hear Sam reply.
“I do need my space. And especially from her. She’s suffocating—” you hear him say, and it’s the last thing you hear before your throat closes up, your ears start to ring, and your eyes blur with tears as you run down the hall back to your apartment.
Time seems to freeze as you make your way to your place, shutting and locking the door as tears stream down your cheeks.
Your biggest fear has come to pass.
Your wonderful boyfriend, someone you love more than anyone in the world, thinks you’re too clingy, just as your family had said all along.
You’re annoying.
You’re suffocating.
This is your worst nightmare.
What you don’t realize, however, is that Bucky wasn’t finished. And after you’ve run off in silent tears, he clarifies what you should have stuck around to hear.
“Especially since I have a girlfriend! I get that I’m assigned to train her, but Alexis needs to know I’m uncomfortable with how touchy she is both inside and outside of training. Plus, she knows I’m dating (Y/n),” Bucky reasons.
“The whole team knows, Buck. You guys look like lovesick puppies whenever you’re together and you can’t keep your hands off each other,” Sam laughs.
“Then why can’t Alexis take a fucking hint?” Bucky cries out with a laugh.
“Have you talked to Nat or anyone else about it? I’m sure they’d talk with her. I know I will if you want me to. We could even switch her with someone else so you won’t have to work with her anymore,” Sam offers.
“That would be great, honestly, man. I’d be in deep shit with (Y/n) if she saw the way Alexis gets with me. And my girl is the last person I want to hurt. I love her, Sam,” Bucky admits.
“Whoa,” Sam smiles. “You guys have only been together for a little while. You already sure about that?”
“When you know, you know,” Bucky shrugs. “She’s the love of my life. I think about her every moment. I never wanna be apart from her.”
If only you would have heard all that.
~♡~
Weeks pass and you grow increasingly distant from Bucky by the day.
You no longer stop over at his apartment to wait with Alpine for him to get back from trainings. You spend more time in the lab with Banner, and when Bucky asks if you need some time off, you politely decline. You no longer go to bed with him for sleepy snuggles; instead, you retreat back to your apartment after the few minutes of time you have together in the evenings.
You dodge his kisses and pull away from his hugs. You don’t cuddle up to him on the few evenings you do spend with him, and you don’t initiate any touch with him whatsoever.
It’s so hard not to give into his touches and kisses, but it’s genuinely what you think Bucky wants. For that reason, you don’t see just how hurt he’s been by the absence of your affection.
~♡~
“So, how are things with you and the lady lately?” Sam asks, nudging Bucky’s shoulder with his own as the two men sit at the counter of the bar together.
“Really?” Bucky scoffs after swallowing his sip of beer.
“Yes, really,” Sam replies with a chuckle of his own. “If I don’t ask, you won’t tell me anythin’. I gotta know what’s going on in your life, man.”
“Okay,” Bucky chuckles again, then lets out a sigh. “I don’t know. Like I’ve told you before. I love her. I think she’s incredible. But if I’m being honest, recently I get the feeling she’s not really into me anymore.”
“What do you mean?” Sam asks, taking a swig of his drink. “She looked pretty comfy cozy in your lap at last month’s meeting," he teases.
“Well without giving up too many details…” Bucky rolls his eyes and winces as he struggles to word it tactfully, knowing just how embarrassed you would feel if you found out Bucky was telling Sam these details of your relationship. “She used just to be a lot more affectionate.”
“She always has been,” Sam agrees. “She’s such a sweet person.”
“I know. But she’s completely stopped. And without any apparent reason, too. Can’t remember the last time she even kissed me. I just… I don’t get it, Sam. What am I doing wrong?”
“Dude, I don’t know her like you do. But maybe just lay off for a little bit? Maybe it will prompt her to start things on her own if she wants them again.”
“Yeah,” Bucky nods slowly, thinking of just how difficult it will be if he decides to withhold his affection from you for a while if you don’t explicitly ask for it. “Yeah, that seems like it could work.”
But even though Bucky has accepted his advice, Sam notices as his friend’s demeanor changes. His already small smile starts to fade as the thought of you sitting at home alone while he’s out with a buddy crosses his mind, and something just tells him you’re not okay.
“Alright, Buck,” Sam sighs, waving down the bartender with one hand hand placing the other on his friend’s shoulder. “I can practically smell the smoke comin’ from your cyborg brain right now. Go,” he then nods his head at Bucky.
“But-”
“Go,” Sam insists with a smile. “Drinks are on me. I know you’re overthinking about your girl right now. Get home before your brain combusts.”
Bucky scoffs, amused at how well Sam knows him and thankful for the advice. He only hopes it will work, and that whatever tension there is between you two can be resolved.
He can’t stand not cuddling and kissing you like he used to.
~♡~
A knock comes at your front door just around eight, after you’ve already showered and changed into your pyjamas - ironically, it’s your boyfriend’s blue henley and a pair of his baggy grey sweats. You’d known Bucky was going out with Sam, so you expected to be alone for the rest of the night.
Toeing over the smooth panels of the wooden floor in your fuzzy socks, you leave your bedroom and head for the main door, nervous as to who may be there.
But an involuntary smile graces your lips when you open the door to your boyfriend, standing in the hallway with a beautiful bouquet of white roses in his hand and a box of your favorite chocolates in the other.
“Bucky,” you breathe, and even with things in his hands, he wraps his arms around your torso and brings you in for a delicate kiss.
“Hi, Sweets,” he greets after breaking away.
“What— uh, what are you doing here?” you stammer, suddenly becoming aware of how tightly you’re clinging to him and pulling back to put space between the two of you. “Thought you were out with Sam,” you say softly, stepping backwards to let him into your apartment, then turning around to head over to the living room.
“I… Well, I’d rather be with you,” he says, following after you. After a few steps, he catches up to you, and hands you the flowers and chocolates.
“What are these for?” you ask, accepting the gifts and admiring the roses with a small smile.
“Don’t need a reason to get my girl some flowers that are almost as pretty as her,” Bucky says, and you’d be swooning if you still weren’t so nervous about coming off as clingy.
Stepping over into the kitchen, you set the chocolate on the counter, then grab an empty vase to fill with water to place the flowers in. Bucky stands near you, watching as you fulfill the task, then setting the vase on your kitchen table, where all of Bucky’s flowers for you have gone.
Next, he grabs your hand as you bush past him to go back to the living room.
“Are you here to spend the night? Where’s Alpine?” you ask, dropping his hand as you sit down on the couch.
Bucky’s heart sinks and his smile falls. He thought you’d appreciate the little surprise, but now he’s convinced you’re just not into him anymore.
“I stopped to check on her right before coming to you. She’s good for the night if you want me to stay. Otherwise I— I can go back,” he says, hesitantly sitting down on the couch beside you.
“No, that’s okay,” you nod, relieved to hear that he’s here because he wants to be, and not because you’ve forced him to.
Silence falls over the room like a heavy, uncomfortable blanket. You’ve never felt this way being alone with Bucky before. You hate it. You want to snuggle up with him and have him hold you tight.
But you know that would be too annoying.
Too suffocating.
Those words echo in your head over and over again, until Bucky breaks the silence, pulling you from the spiral of your thoughts.
“Sweetheart,” Bucky mutters, reaching out to grab your hand. “Are you okay?”
“Mhm,” you smile and nod, pulling your hand from his, then scootch just a tad away from him.
“You’re just… You don’t seem like yourself lately. I’m worried, Sweets.”
“I’m fine, Buck,” you assure him, though he isn’t convinced.
“Okay,” he pauses generously before speaking up again. “Are we… okay?”
“Yeah,” you nod again, but Bucky finally builds up the courage to ask you directly what he wants.
“You’ve just been really distant lately. No more cuddles, hugs, kisses… no more movie nights or making dinner together. I’ve barely seen you this week, and I know you’re busy with Banner, but I miss you. I just… Are you… do you want to break up with me?” he asks, and your heart shatters into a million pieces.
“No, James,” you coo, finally reaching out to grab his hand again. “Not at all, Honey.”
“Then why haven’t you been as affectionate as you used to be?” he asks, voice shaking with nerves and heartbreak.
Another wave of silence washes over the room as you debate whether or not you’ll tell him the truth. You know you should, and against all the fear you’re feeling right now, you know it’s worth it to save your relationship with the sweetest man on the planet.
“I heard you talking to Sam, Bucky,” you say softly, removing your hand from his and casting your gaze to your lap.
“What, Sweets?” he asks with a small frown.
“I heard you talking… about me.”
Bucky doesn’t understand. When are you talking about? Did he accidentally butt dial you when he was with Sam tonight? Fuck technology, he thinks. What has he done?
“Tonight?” he asks nervously, but you shake your head. “Sweetheart, I’m lost. When are you talking about?” he asks, and you begin to dread having to explain to him what you overheard.
“In the kitchen. A few weeks ago. You said you needed a break,” you state, blinking to get rid of the tears that are blurring your eyes but instead one escapes, and rolls down your cheek, making your heartbreak evident to your boyfriend. “I heard you say I was too clingy. Annoying. Suffocating,” you wince as you speak the words that have been daggers in your heart since the moment you’d heard them.
Bucky’s jaw falls open and his face goes white as he watches you break down into sobs.
“Oh, (Y/n),” he sighs and shakes his head. “Oh my god. No no no,” he gathers you in his arms and kisses your head and cheeks and all over face.
“I never meant to be so clingy, Bucky. I’m sorry. They always told me I was too attached. I didn’t mean to bother you. I’m so sorry,” you sob into his chest.
“Sweetheart, no no no!” he quietly exclaims, pulling away from you and grabbing a tissue from the box in your coffee table to dry your stray tears. “I wasn’t talking about you!”
“You… you weren’t?” you ask shakily.
“No, sweet girl,” he assures you. “You could never be too clingy or too attached or too much anything. You’re perfect. I love your hugs and your cuddles and your kisses. I crave your cuddles when I’m gone away on missions. I wish I could bottle up your kisses and keep them in my pocket for whenever I need one. I love you, (Y/n),” he confesses, and your stomach floods with butterflies instead of sadness.
“I love you, too, Bucky,” you admit with a giggle through your tears, relief washing over you like a massive tidal wave.
“I’m so sorry you overheard that, and I’m so sorry you’ve been feeling that way for all these weeks,” he wraps his arms around you again, squeezing you tightly to him.
“It’s okay. I know I should have asked you sooner. I guess I just assumed the worst and I immediately shut down. I wanted to give you the space I thought you needed from me,” you whisper into the crook of his neck.
“I don’t need any space from you, Sweets,” he replies softly. “And I was most certainly not talking about you,” he reassures, then pulling away from you just enough to hold your eye contact.
“Who was it, then?” you ask hesitantly, though you know it’s not you.
“Alexis. That new recruit,” he begins, rolling his eyes, and you laugh at how annoyed he looks. “I was assigned to train her, but she’s got this weird thing for me. She gets way too close and touchy in training and continues with it even after training. I’ve asked her to stop, but she just hasn’t listened. I had to tell Sam about it; it was just getting too far,” he shakes his head.
“Oh, wow,” you frown, now feeling bad for Bucky as he’s had to deal with such unwanted contact with this recruit. “I’m sorry, Buck.”
“It’s not your fault, sweet girl,” he assures, leaning in to kiss you gently. “I just had to let Sam know. He’s gonna switch her out for someone else for me to train. Maybe even talk to Nat or someone who’s in charge of recruitment if it continues.”
“Good,” you nod and smile, eyes going wide in relief.
“Yeah,” Bucky also chuckles in relief. “I’m so glad we cleared this up."
"Me, too," you tell him. "I'm sorry for not telling you how I was feeling earlier. I feel like it would have avoided all of this."
"Probably," he laughs softly. "But I can't blame you for doing what you did. I can't imagine how you were feeling after hearing all that. I honestly didn't know what to do with myself when you started avoiding me, Sweets."
"Bucky, I'm so sorry," you give him a sad smile.
"No, I get it," he shakes his head and smiles, pulling you in closer, so much so that you're practically in his lap. "Now we just have a few weeks of cuddles to make up for, don't we?"
"Yes," you giggle as he feathers kisses to your neck and shoulders. "That we do."
"I love you so much, Sweetheart," he then whispers against your lips.
"I love you, too."
~♡~
thank you so much for reading! reblogs and feedback are so greatly appreciated and help out your fave writers more than you know 💘
Bucky taglist below, link in bio to be added :)
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2K notes · View notes
norrussell · 6 months
Text
Water | Lando Norris⁴
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Pairings: Lando Norris x fem!reader
Summary: you go to your local gym hoping you'll see the new guy that also happened to become your gym crush. What you didn't expect is to find out that he noticed you too
Warnings: smut, unprotected sex, some dirty talk
A/N: I wrote this in like an hour or so, so it might not be the greatest of my works, but lord knows we need it after that quali session. Also the song was a big inspo 🤪
It was getting late and the gym was nearly empty. You had come to get a workout in, yet felt oddly out of sync with your body. Despite feeling drained, you sauntered through the area, your eyes lingering on the shiny metal surfaces of the exercise equipment. You were expecting solitude at this time of night, but noticed a few others around as well.
This week, you couldn't help but notice a new face at the gym. While checking him out from a distance, he has unexpectedly become someone you kind of crush on. You couldn't deny that part of your motivation for returning to the gym was the chance of seeing him again.
And just your luck, he was already there and had started his training session. You tried not to gawk, but you couldn't help it. He moved with such grace, each repetition of the exercises looking like a dance. His muscles flexed and tensed as he lifted weights and you found yourself mesmerized by the beauty of it all.
Mustering all your strength, you moved closer to one of the machines and started performing your own exercises. You sensed him looking at you without acknowledging your presence, but it was almost as if he didn’t notice you at all. Yet suddenly something out of left field happened.
"That's not correct. You're going to hurt yourself if you keep doing it like that." it was him, speaking up in a soft yet firm voice that startled you out of your daze.
You frowned a bit, confused. "This is how my personal trainer showed me to do it."
"I'm sure he did. But that's not how you do it." he grinned. "You're only going to get pain and no gain."
"And how would you know?" what you didn't expect is to get annoyed with him, but here you were, fighting the urge not to roll your eyes.
"I'm a professional athlete, I know." you could just tell this guy relished in being right and correcting people.
"Oh, yes? And what kind of athlete are you?" you snorted.
"I'm a formula 1 driver."
Your eyes widened as he said that. You had never met a professional athlete before, let alone one who drove a formula 1 car. You tried to play it cool, but your curiosity got the best of you. "That's impressive. I didn't know we had any formula 1 drivers in this town."
"You don't," he said with a smirk. "I'm just passing through for a race in a neighboring city. I like to keep up with my training while I'm on the road."
You nodded, still in shock. You had never spoken to someone so accomplished before. "Well, I'm honored to be corrected by a professional athlete. Can you show me how to do it correctly?"
He grinned and stepped closer to you, his body heat making your heart race. "Of course. I'd be happy to help. And my name is Lando, by the way."
For the next hour, Lando guided you through different exercises, correcting your form and giving you tips on how to improve. You felt a sense of gratitude towards him, appreciating the time he was taking to help you out.
He was easy to talk to as well, and you found yourself opening up to him. He, in turn, shared his own stories, and soon enough, the conversation turned flirtatious.
You didn't know if it was the adrenaline from the workout or the thrill of being in his presence, but you found yourself wanting him in a way you hadn't before.
As the gym started to empty out, you glanced at the clock and noticed that it was almost closing time. You both were still talking, and neither of you seemed to want to leave.
"We should probably get going," you said with a hint of disappointment.
He smiled and nodded his head in agreement, but then he leaned in closer and whispered into your ear. "I know a place we can go for some privacy."
Your heart raced as his words sunk in, and before you knew it, you found yourself following him out of the gym towards the locker rooms.
As soon as you entered, Lando grabbed your hand and pulled you towards one of the empty stalls. His lips crashed onto yours and you felt your body ignite with desire. His hands roamed your body, tearing every piece of clothing that restrained him from your skin, exploring every inch as you kissed him back with equal fervor.
He lifted you up with ease, your legs wrapping around his waist as he pressed you against the cold wall. His kisses were urgent and demanding, and you met his passion with your own. He devoured your mouth, his hands squeezing your boobs and pinching your nipples. The sensation shot straight to your core, making you arch your back and moan louder.
Lando trailed his kisses down your neck, his teeth nibbling on your skin, leaving behind a path of marks. You tangled your fingers in his hair, pulling him closer to you, urging him to go further.
"You have no idea how much I've been thinking about you," he whispered, his breath hot against your skin.
"Tell me," you whispered back, loving the way his cock throbbed against your thigh.
"Thinking about what I would do to you if I had the chance."
He pushed you against the wall, his fingers parting your folds and finding your clit. He rubbed it in circles, making you shudder against him, and when he pushed his fingers inside you, you cried out.
"Tell me how bad you want my cock, baby," he growled. "Tell me."
You gasped for air as he worked his fingers inside you, your muscles tightening around them. He brought you to the brink and then stopped, leaving you to whimper in the darkness.
"Please, Lando. I need more," you begged.
"Oh, you'll get more," he grinned. "But first, you need to show me how much you want it."
You squinted your eyes in confusion at his words. Before you could ask what he meant, he placed you on your feet and pushed you towards the wall, your hands pressing against it.
"Now, I want you to touch yourself while I watch," he commanded.
You followed his instructions, your hands exploring your body and eventually slipping between your legs. Your eyes never left his gaze, and he took his time undressing. As you teased yourself by tracing circles around your clit, imagining him inside of you, the bulge in his pants was growing bigger. Finally, he removed his shorts, exposing his thick, hard member.
As soon as it sprung forward, you pushed two fingers inside yourself and moaned at the sensation. You watched as he pumped his cock in his hand, the look in his eyes filled with lust. You smiled and continued fingering yourself, arching your back and twisting your body as you watched the way his muscles tensed.
"You have no idea how bad I want to fuck you right now."
His words sent a shiver down your spine, and as you continued staring at him, he grabbed your wrist and pressed it against his cock. You bit your lip and moaned out loud as you felt the warmth of his flesh against you, stroking himself as you fucked yourself with your fingers.
He pressed his body close to yours, the heat and moisture of his skin merging with your own. His lips found their way to your neck and he kissed you ever-so-softly. You could feel his cock throbbing against your thigh. Then, his kisses intensified, with his teeth grazing gently across your skin. He suckled at your neck while his fingers dug lightly into your flesh.
"You like this, don't you?" he growled into your ear. "You like being commanded."
"Yes," you hissed. "I love it."
"I want to fuck you until you can't walk. I want you to scream so loud the whole gym can hear you. Will you do that for me?"
"Yes," you moaned again. "I will. I'll do anything you want."
"Good girl."
He grabbed your hair and forced your head back against the wall, his lips finding their way to yours again. He kissed you, his tongue pushing inside your mouth, fighting for domination. You moaned loudly, grinding your hips against his. He grabbed your ass and squeezed it, his teeth sinking into your bottom lip.
The head of his cock found its way to your entrance, and he didn't waste any time. He lifted one of your legs up and pushed himself inside. You moaned against him, your skin flushing as he filled you to the brim. He held onto you tightly as he thrust himself inside you, his hips pushing against yours. You sucked his tongue into your mouth, your body shaking as you cried out in ecstasy.
He grabbed your remaining leg and pulled you up against him, your legs instinctively twining around his waist. Taking both of your wrists in his secure grip, he held them above your head, your breasts jolting with each successive thrust. He sped up the tempo as time passed, his body pressing hard into yours.
You had never been fucked like this before, and you loved every second of it. The way he controlled your body made you feel more feminine than you ever had, and you felt yourself craving more.
He let go of your hands and you fell into him. You held him tight, your nails digging into his back. Your bodies were pressed up against each other, sticky and sweaty, and as he thrust himself inside you, you could feel his bare chest rubbing against your hard nipples. He groaned, his cock pulsing inside you as he held you close.
You wrapped your arms around his neck, your legs tightening around his waist. He groaned into your lips, his eyes locking into yours. You bit your lip and smiled, whispering "Faster."
He complied and you tried to keep quiet as he fucked you harder, but it was getting harder and harder to do so. Your breath was coming out in ragged breaths, and the sound of his skin slapping against yours filled the room.
He put you down and turned you around, pressing you against the wall again, his cock still buried inside of you as he planted kisses all over your back. He slammed into you quicker and harder, his hips colliding with your ass with every thrust.
With one hand still on your hips, Lando reached down between your legs and found your clit, teasing it as you came closer and closer to orgasm. You knew you couldn't hold on any longer, so you grabbed his hand and pulled it away from your sensitive flesh. He smiled and grabbed your face, capturing your lips in a passionate kiss.
Spinning you around once more, he picked you up and put you onto his cock, your legs wrapping securely around him. You could tell he liked to be in control so much as he took charge and started moving your hips up and down his length. His fingers groped your ass, his tongue teasing your nipples as you moaned in pleasure.
You felt him swell inside you, and your own orgasm started building up inside of you. You could feel it coming closer and closer with every movement of his thrust, until finally it arrived, crashing through both of you like a wave. You screamed in pleasure as Lando pumped one last time into you before coming hard himself, his entire body shaking with release.
Slowly he lowered you onto the floor, both of you still breathing heavily from the intense session that just took place. He took a step back to look at you, admiring every inch of your glistening body from the workout you just did.
"I guess I can tell my personal trainer that you're a better instructor than him."
1K notes · View notes
fuckyeahdindjarin · 1 year
Text
II ║ Threads
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Joel Miller x F!Reader
{ Part I: Seams | Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist }
Rating: M
Summary: When Joel revisits Main Street Outfitters two weeks later, he finds you on your knees. Again.
Warnings: Very spicy thoughts but not explicit, sexual tension, sexual innuendos, some language, shy!reader, reader has a nickname related to her job, soft!Joel, no use of Y/N
Word count: 4.3k
Notes: This crept up on me and happened just as I was finishing up edits. I am so grateful, and I hope Threads is a fitting thank you gift to you all 😘 I’m thinking about doing a sleepover celebration, we shall see!
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Joel and Pin are back ❤️ They're back because you guys have been so generous with your love, sending me so many ideas and hyping me up - I can't thank you all enough! This chapter is all thanks to Singer machine anon who bravely (affectionate 😉) shared their story of getting stuck under a sewing machine table. I hope you enjoy this one!
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A treadle sewing machine is powered mechanically by a foot pedal that is pushed back and forth by the operator's foot. 
If you're not familiar, here is a classic Singer treadle cabinet, which is no way big enough for the purposes of this story, so please exercise your imagination 😉
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Joel hovers outside the Jackson Grocer’s, arms crossed, trying to make himself look as inconspicuous as possible in front of the leafy display of butter lettuce heads.
It’s been a few months since he’s settled in, but sometimes he can’t get over how fucking nuts this place is. Looking at the shelves brimming with fresh fruits and vegetables outside, canned food and home goods inside, he could easily be standing outside the 24/7 mart in his old neighbourhood. There are even shopping baskets, for crying out loud - stacked neatly one on top of the other by the door.
A voice pipes up from his left. ‘Didn’t know you ate greens.’
Joel scowls. ‘I don’t.’
‘Why are you loiterin’, then?’ asks Tommy, picking up a couple of apples and examining them with exaggerated care.
‘I’m not loiterin’,’ he spits out the last word as if he’s above it, turning his gaze to the high street. 
Tommy tosses him a cocky grin, head tilted at a knowing angle. ‘Yeah, you are. And now you’re makin’ eyes at Bob. It’s disturbin’.’
Glancing across the main thoroughfare at the welder’s shop, where the said proprietor is cutting up wooden planks on the porch, Joel grumbles sarcastically, ‘That’s right. Bob is just my type.’
At that very moment, right next to Bob's, the door of Main Street Outfitters creaks open, and Joel recognises Lucy instantly as she sneaks out on tiptoes. She skips down the stairs and wanders up the street in what appears to be another impromptu work break.
Joel’s already taken two steps towards the shop before he remembers that he’s not alone. Braking abruptly and bringing up one hand to scratch the back of his neck, he feels Tommy’s eyes on him.
He half-turns, and snaps, ‘What?’
The younger Miller brother shrugs, pursing his lips thoughtfully. ‘Why are you going to the Outfitters again? Didn’t you just get those new jeans a couple of weeks ago?’
‘Thought I’d get a new shirt for your stupid baby shower.’
‘Joel -’
‘Sorry, sorry.’ He throws his hands up in capitulation. ‘Baby showers are not stupid. Especially in the middle of an apocalypse.’
Taking another two steps forward, a thought stops him dead in his tracks again. He can practically feel Tommy smiling smugly at his back.
For fuck’s sake.
He doesn’t turn around this time, jamming his hands into his pockets and asks, ‘Can I bring someone? To the party?’
‘We know Ellie’s comin’.’
Whipping around, he growls, ‘Tommy -’
He laughs. ‘Well, I’ll be damned. Joel Miller makin’ friends in town? Maria’s right - you’re fittin’ right in, big brother.’
Rolling his eyes, Joel flips him off and stomps his way across the street.
Tommy calls out at his retreating back. ‘Say hello to Pin and tell her we’d love to have her come over on Sunday!’
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When he steps inside, the shop is as empty as it was a fortnight ago. Joel shuts the door firmly, making sure the bell jingles, so his entry doesn’t go unnoticed.
Your voice, though muffled, comes promptly. ‘Lucy! Is that you?’
He heads towards the doorway that leads to the workshop. ‘It’s Joel, actually.’
‘Oh, shit!’
His eyebrows reach for his hairline - you don’t seem to be the type to curse. Concerned, he asks, ‘You alright back there?’
There’s a touch of panic in your reply, ‘Don’t come back here. Did Lucy sneak out again?’
On your instruction, Joel hesitates in the middle of the room, talking to air. ‘Yeah, saw her leave a couple of minutes ago.’
‘Goddamnit, Lucy!’
He shuffles his feet awkwardly. ‘Uh, you sure you’re ok? Should I come back later?’
There’s a resigned sigh, then a pause. ‘Promise you won’t laugh.’
One end of his lips tugs upwards in a smile. ‘Why would I?’
‘Promise.’
At your insistence, he humours you, ‘Alright, I promise, sweetheart.’
‘Come on back.’
When he steps into the workshop, he doesn’t spot you immediately. The space is seemingly empty, everything standing still and in order. He sweeps his eyes across the room, starting with the shelving unit and the desk along the near wall, then trailing over the large timber work table in the middle, where a stack of folded shirts stands neatly.
His throat isn’t the only thing that tightens when he glances at the rug under the skylight -
‘Joel?’
Your voice draws his attention to the far corner of the room, where a sewing station is tucked into a little alcove.
Joel doesn’t know much about sewing machines, but he can recognise a vintage Singer anywhere even without the name blazoned across its elegant body. His grandmother had one in her drawing room by a sunny bay window, and he used to watch her work on it when he visited every other weekend. For a disorienting second, he can almost smell homemade cinnamon rolls and black tea.
Little did he know that things were about to get a lot more disorienting than a pleasant childhood memory.
As he steps around the work table, the rest of the sewing station comes into view, fronted by a big window, the light streaming through the glass glancing off the black sewing machine on top of a classic treadle cabinet. What looks like a half-finished dress lies on the wooden work surface, which stands on quintessential wrought metal legs, and between them - his throat constricts with a slow swallow when he realises what - or rather, who - he’s looking at.
The words barely come out, as if his tongue is suddenly too big for his mouth, as he makes his presence known. ‘I’m here, sweetheart.’
To be fair, you’re not making things easy by any means. All he can see is your backside hovering in mid-air, the rest of you out of sight under the desk. It has built-in cabinets on each end, the right side of it backed up against the far wall, and a chair is pushed to the side.
Joel stops two measured paces away, staring down at the curve of your ass and the way your top rides up, baring the small of your back. His eyes linger on the soft skin between the shirt’s hem and the waistband of your very tight jeans.
Jesus Christ. Do you always have to be on your fucking knees in this workshop?
Your small voice jolts him from his daze. ‘Well, at least you’re not laughing.’
He has to bite his tongue to stop himself from scoffing. If only you knew how laughing is the furthest thing on his mind right now. ‘What happened?’
‘A spool rolled off and I went down to get it, but I fell on the treadle accidentally - I think my shirt is snagged in the band wheel. I can’t move at all, and this Singer is an antique - I can't risk breaking it.’
Unfamiliar with what you’re talking about, he probes, ‘And where’s the band wheel?’
‘Under the table, on my right.’
You wriggle your hips, perhaps to help him locate where you’re stuck, unaware that you’re not helping. At all. 
He swallows thickly and implores you, ‘Stay still, sweetheart. I’ll take a look.’
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It’s been two whole weeks since Joel Miller came into the shop. You’ve caught glimpses of him in between - Jackson is tiny, after all. He catches your eye as he ambles down the high street with Ellie, his gruff Southern accent carrying even in the mid-afternoon bustle, too preoccupied arguing with the teenager to notice you on the other side of the road. He’s in the cafeteria a couple of times when you arrive for a late dinner, nodding at you from a few tables over, while you work up the nerve to smile back.
Every time, he’s wearing the jeans you handpicked for him, which makes your chest swell and constrict at the same time with something like - pride.
You picked out the pair for him. You assured him that he looks good. And by the way he’s wearing his confidence on his sleeve, he’s certainly taken your words to heart. 
Whenever you see other women eyeing him as he struts about town - which is entirely too often - it awakens an ugly possessiveness in you, one that twists your insides into grotesque balloon animals.
Fourteen damn days. Even in the privacy of your workshop, you can’t escape that man. The simple touch of denim provokes a visceral reaction from you, heat chases beneath your skin every time you pick up the tailor’s scissors. It doesn’t help that most of your daily tasks are not exactly cerebral, which gives this man all the more leeway to lay claim to your subconscious.
If you believed in magic, you would've thought you summoned him with the sheer energy you’ve spent thinking about him. But what kind of witchcraft conjured him up at the precise moment you get trapped like the bumbling idiot that you are?
One minute you’re reaching for the stupid thread, the next thing you know, you’re stuck, unable to move without the mechanisms of the antique Singer groaning ominously at your attempts to free yourself.
But maybe, it’s still better than Lucy finding you. She’d take a hammer to the sewing machine to get you out, no question - patience is not her strong suit - and she’d be laughing at you for days.
You hear the floorboards give behind you as Joel moves into the space, which isn’t much - when you’re sat down at the treadle cabinet, the wall is barely two steps behind.
The wooden table creaks above you as he braces one hand on the surface, and you startle at what sounds like the vicious crack of a vertebra.
‘Um - you okay?’
Joel grunts. ‘I’ll live.’
So you wait, thinking absent-mindedly how your elbows are starting to get numb. There’s a scruff of boots and what sounds like a brief struggle, before Joel sighs. ‘Back’s too stiff ‘mfraid. Gotta get on the floor to see underneath.’
Before you can squeak out a reply, there’s a boney click of what you presume is his knees as he crouches down, and an unexpected brush of denim on your left ankle surprises you. Forgetting where you are, you jump in reflex, hitting the underside of the table so hard that you screech in pain.
‘Shit!’ Joel cusses behind you, one warm hand landing on the side of your hip to steady you. ‘You ok?’
Up until this point, you’ve been too consumed with embarrassment by your predicament to even think about the position Joel found you in. But once the warm imprint of his palm registers through the denim, it hits you like one of those interstate trucks that you used to see out of your window.
You’re leaning on your forearms, ass in the air, and now - he’s behind you, getting onto his knees. You can’t decide if the back of your head or your pussy is throbbing harder as you stutter, ‘I’m fine, just - get me out, please.’
‘Alright, hang on, sweetheart.’
You swallow the childish urge to stamp your foot. He has no right going around dropping sweethearts all over the place.
There’s a throaty exhale as Joel lowers himself onto the floor, his knees bracketing yours to shift closer to you. You know he feels the shudder that chases down your spine when soft flannel grazes your bare back, heat spilling from his solid frame as he looms over you.
‘You say you’re stuck in the band wheel?’
Somehow, you manage to answer, ‘Yeah, to my right.’
He clears his throat. ‘I - uh - I’ll have to lean down pretty close to you to take a look, is that ok?’
You feel all the air leave your body, which is probably why your reply comes out far breathier than you intend it to. ‘Yes, Joel.’
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And with those two words, Joel has a problem with his jeans. Again.
They’re too tight. Again.
There’s nothing he can do as his mouth goes dry and his cock hardens with a vengeance, his self-control slipping like sand between his fingers.
He was doing so good - well, he was more or less holding it together, as much as he could be expected to while kneeling behind you. And of course, his damn knees hurt, but so does his bottom lip which is caught in his teeth, trying to regulate his breathing when his heart threatens to beat right out of his chest. 
He already has one hand on you, and goddamnit, it’s taking him all he’s got to hold back from gripping you with his other, to grasp the swell of your ass between his palms, to trace your curves up to the dip of your exposed waist, to bow his head and run his tongue along the arc of your spine -
And the jeans you’re wearing - fuck, they’re tight. He wonders idly if you wore them for him. His eyes follow the seam that runs down the cleft of your ass, the way the pockets stretch over your backside has his fingers twitching, thinking about how well you will fill his hands, and how the slow rub of denim will burn his skin.
He wants to hook his thumbs into the belt loops and pull you flush against the zipper of his jeans, where his cock is straining against - rub himself on you, grind on you, his thighs plastered to the back of yours -
‘Joel?’
Fuck.
He sways as he snaps out of his stupor, dangerously close to knocking into you, light-headed from the lack of blood to his brain. He chokes out, ‘Yeah, I got you, sweetheart.’
Get it together, you dirty bastard.
He’s careful to leave a couple of inches between his front and your ass when he bends his elbows and ducks so he can peer beneath the desk. His chest pressed flat against your lower back, he can see the bunched fabric of your shirt where it’s caught.
‘Yup, you’re right, your shirt is snagged tight in there.’
‘Can you untangle it?’
‘Think so, but I’ll need both hands.’ He pauses. ‘I’d better get on my back under you.’
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You swear you’re going to black out.
‘Pin?’ he prompts when you’ve been quiet a beat too long.
‘I - um, what do you mean by going under me?’
‘If I’m on my back, I can use both my hands, like a mechanic under a car,’ he explains. ‘If you’re uncomfortable, I can find another way -’
‘No!’ you blurt out, wincing at the desperation in your tone. ‘I mean - whatever is easiest for you. You’re the one doing me a favour here.’
‘Alright,’ he says, placated by your reassurance. ‘On your hands and knees then, sweetheart.’
Your eyes nearly roll to the back of your head. Oh, come on. Can he hear himself?
Scraping together your last vestiges of control, you push up on your palms to make space underneath you. You have to consciously lock your elbows - your joints suddenly feel like barely set pudding. 
‘Move as far to your right as possible so I can slide in.’
Shuffling on your hands and knees until you’re pressed up against the band wheel, you hear the brush of fabric on wood - must be his back against the floorboards as he slides in. To say it’s a squeeze is an understatement. His broad shoulders brush the front of your thighs as he inches in, and then, his face appears under yours, head between your hands.
His lips quirk. ‘Hi, sweetheart.’
Your breath hitches at his proximity, your wrists brushing the soft red flannel he’s wearing today. ‘Hi.’
‘You ok?’ he asks.
You’re this close to pouting. What does he think? There’s a telltale stickiness between your legs that you’re frantically trying to push to the back of your mind while you mmhmm noncommittally, hoping that he doesn’t smell your want in the tiny, claustrophobic space you’re now both caught in.
You can only assume that he’s none the wiser, since the next thing that comes of his mouth is - 
‘Climb on top of me so I can slide in closer to the band wheel.’
Someone might as well say your last rites. This is the end.
You’re taken aback when your limbs start to move on autopilot, because your faculties have well and truly abandoned ship. One trembling leg attempts to swing itself over the solid breadth of his body, but it wobbles like jelly, and your knee ends up connecting firmly with his stomach instead of landing clear on his other side.
At his grunted oomph, you panic and bang your head on the underside of the table again, which sends your whole weight sprawling onto his front with a yelp.
Joel cradles the back of your scalp with one hand. ‘Shit, you ok, sweetheart?’
The seams of your lashes sting, your head smarting with the impact, and you blink drily as your gaze focuses on Joel under you. He’s so close that you can see flecks of gold in his brown eyes, his breath hitting your face in warm puffs. Your glance at his lips, and with that one little motion, all goes quiet.
He watches you back, neither of you breathing, and in the stillness you realise that you’re fully straddling him, your palms pressing into the hard floor on either side of his ears. Your tits are crushed up against his ribs, his soft tummy warmly cushioned under you. Lower still, where your hips are nestled into the spread of his thick thighs, something stiff and long and insistent presses into you -
Your jaw goes slack when it dawns on you. 
Oh god.
He’s hard.
‘I’m so sorry,’ Joel breaks the silence, a pained frown on his brow as he shakes his head. ‘This is embarrassin’. Couldn’t fuckin’ help it, seein’ you in those jeans -’
Tongue-tied, you can only stare at him, wishing you were brave enough to say something. Tell him that you pulled extra shifts to buy this particular pair of jeans, knowing that they flatter your figure. That you’ve worn them almost every day these two weeks, hoping that he’d swing by again. 
But you can’t. 
So you pray that he can see what you can’t say by the way you’re looking at him, by the way your heart races wildly in your ribcage against his chest.
His voice cracks. ‘I understand if you want me to go -’
You unstick your tongue from the roof of your mouth and cut in, ‘Don’t.’
His warm eyes widen, something like hopefulness in the way he looks up at you. ‘You don’t want me to go?’
You press your body closer into his, filling in the gaps. ‘No. Please don’t, Joel.’
He leans forward, so close that you can feel the phantom burn of his silvered beard, his palms finding the meat of your legs, blunt nails biting into the denim.
He really should be ashamed of himself, at the way his cock pulses unabashedly, nudged right between your thighs as you stare down at him, lips parted. He’s hard enough that he worries if there’s a wet spot of precum on the front of his jeans - he can feel himself leaking through his boxers. 
The wicked tip of your tongue traces a wet trail on your bottom lip, and he almost chokes on a half-buried groan deep in his chest. He knows that you don’t even know you’re doing it - and in turn, what that does to him.
It would be easy to close the two-inch gap between you. To kiss you, taste you, lick into your sweet mouth. All he needs to do is to cup the back of your head and pull you down, or crane his neck and press his lips to yours -
And Joel is someone who always follows the path of least resistance. 
But - he wants to do right by you. He knows you deserve more than a quick fumble under a table.
Sucking in a shaky breath, Joel steels himself and brushes a chaste thumb over your cheekbone. ‘Let’s get you out of here, and then we can talk, ok?’
It’s almost perverse the way his chest warms at the flicker of disappointment in your eyes as you give a reluctant nod, ‘Ok. Please be careful, the Singer’s really delicate.’
It’s hard to focus - his attention keeps drifting to how snugly you fit into his chest, between his arms, and it’s not a stretch to imagine a soft mattress underneath his back. It's funny how quickly his body has adjusted to creature comforts after months of sleeping on the cold winter ground.
Joel’s mindful that an antique sewing machine will be a pain in the ass to repair without the requisite parts, so he moves carefully, gently coaxing the band wheel back and forth to see how he can extract you. It doesn’t take long to loosen the grip of the metal teeth on your shirt, but he has to reach up and untangle the threads snagged into the mechanisms one by one.
He muses idly that this is not his method. These hands of his, with crooked knuckles that never healed right, where many a dagger, knife, gun, rifle have found a home - they break things, people.
When was the last time someone asked gentleness of him? 
He wants to scoff. That’s not what he’s good for.
Despite himself, his throat rumbles with a hum of satisfaction when the band wheel finally lets go of your shirt, the Singer whirring to life as it spins freely. He gives you a lopsided smile. ‘There you go, sweetheart.’
You smile, but don’t seem to be in a hurry to move, which pleases him. He likes looking at you from this angle, relishing in your weight on him. He takes his time running his eyes over your face, his palms coming to rest on your knees.
You duck your head prettily. ‘Thank you, Joel.'
He gives you a playful shrug. ‘Well, I owed you one for these jeans.’
You roll your eyes in good humour. ‘Actually, I told you specifically that you didn’t.’
Joel basks in the lighthearted turn in the conversation, egging you on, ‘Well, in that case, you owe me one for this instead.’
‘That’s hardly fair -’ you chide him, punching him in the shoulder in a half-hearted rebuke.
Taking the opportunity, he grabs you by the wrist, the contact prompting a bodily shudder from you that he doesn’t miss. He smirks, ‘M’fraid I don’t play fair, sweetheart.’
You glare at him in mock sternness, bold enough to demand, ‘Fine - what do you want then, Joel Miller?’
For a split second, he hesitates, woefully out of practice at whatever it is that he’s about to do. Swallowing his self-doubt, he asks, ‘Tommy and Maria are throwing a baby shower on Sunday at their house - do you want to come?’
Your shoulders stiffen. Now, that you were not expecting. Your social anxiety bubbles between your ribs and looms over you like a spector. You sputter, ‘Um, I -’
You start when his fingers draw soothing circles on the top of your knees, as if seeing straight through the source of your apprehension. He reassures you, ‘Lucy is welcome to join too. The more the merrier.’
Your eyes soften. ‘Ok. I’d love to.’
The endearing way the corners of his eyes crinkle as he smiles has you swaying towards him, his nose just brushing the side of yours - when the doorbell rings, cutting through the loaded silence. 
In your haste to sit up, you knock your head against the table for a third time. 
‘Ow!’ you cry. Even Joel flinches at the hard hit.
Lucy calls out, sounding dangerously close. ‘Pin? You ok, hon?’
‘Shit!’ You start scrambling backwards, bent over awkwardly, convinced that you’re one more blow away from a concussion. You’ve barely scrambled onto your feet when Lucy steps into the workshop, the world tilting on its axis for a moment as blood rushes to your brain. 
She watches in amusement as Joel drags himself from under the sewing station, head cocked to one side. ‘Hi again, stranger. You really like our shop, don’t you?’
His shirt is rumpled from where you sat on him, bits of his curls sticking up. He rubs the back of his neck, as if caught with his hand in the cookie jar. ‘I just swung by to, uh, invite you and Pin to the baby shower. Tommy and Maria’s. This Sunday.’
Lucy crosses her arms, arching an eyebrow. ‘And it’s a tradition where you’re from to talk about weekend plans under a table?’
You narrow your eyes at her. ‘Luce -’
She winks. ‘You know what? I don’t need to know the gory details - but I’m in. See you Sunday, Miller!’
Joel huffs a chuckle as Lucy disappears into the front of the shop, leaving you two alone. You smile, suddenly shy for no reason, twining your fingers to stop from fidgeting. ‘Thanks again, Joel.’
He shrugs it off, a touch of boldness in the way he stands, hands in pockets, hips cocked. ‘Pleasure was all mine, sweetheart.’
Instead of heading in the direction of the door, he takes two long strides towards you, leaning down to murmur in your ear, ‘Wear those jeans for me again on Sunday?’
Stunned, you gape at him as he turns with a crooked grin and walks off, dispatching a two-fingered salute at Lucy as he goes. Pausing by the threshold, Joel gives you one last wink that has your breath stuttering - but you only allow yourself to sag against the wall when the door closes behind him, your knees giving.
Lucy wastes no time skipping back into the workshop, practically bouncing on the balls of her feet in excitement. ‘Alright, time to raid the party clothes rack, girl!’
You laugh - Sunday can’t come fast enough.
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Notes: I had the best time writing this chapter - it was fun to flip the tables on Pin, not that Joel comes out completely unscathed!
I definitely have ✨ideas✨ for these two, but I'm enjoying keeping things loose, so I have no plans to turn this into a full-blown series just yet. I hope you enjoyed this instalment, comments/reblogs/asks are so so appreciated as always ❤️
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yandere-writer-momo · 6 months
Text
Yandere Short Stories: Love Me More
Yandere Supervillian x Afab Reader x Ex Superhero
In honor of spooky month, you’re all getting some of my old original thriller works. Enjoy
8.4 k words
Buy Me a Coffee, Please?
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    Crescent shaped wounds formed on the palms of soft (skin color) hands while (eye color) eyes stared holes into the tv and the daily broadcast. Blood dripping from the young woman’s lips from the force of her biting them. 
     “Today’s broadcast starts off with the news of the blooming relationship between the superhero Hydro and Heroine Terra. The two started off as partners on missions before taking their relationship to the next level! Who knew such chemistry existed between the two?!” A reporter stated while showing videos of the blonde haired hero kissing a pink haired woman. The two did look good together but there was only one problem. Hydro, no… Reign, was (your name)’s boyfriend. 
     Reign had always told her not to use the tv remote but she was just so bored in the house. Ever since powers had started appearing seven years ago from a mysterious storm, Reign had been keeping her locked up in their shared house. The blonde had insisted it was for her utmost safety, but now (your name) felt like it was all just a rouse to keep her in the dark on his affair.
    A scream left (your name)’s throat as she began pressing all the tv buttons in frustration before throwing the tv remote away from the couch. A small thud echoing in the room while the tv screen turned black.
    The young woman began to shake as she tried to conceal her sobs while she patiently waited for her boyfriend to come home. Her form shaking as she gazed numbly at the blood dripping from her hands.
    She had waited an entire week for him to return from his latest mission. She had been worried sick about him since he hadn’t answered her calls or texts asking how he is or what he was doing. And now (your name) knew why. The true reason in why Reign never replied… was because he had another woman in his life.
    Seven years down the drain. She has always wondered why he hadn’t taken her on dates in the last two years since he had risen to stardom. Why he wasn’t as affectionate before or as talkative. Why he never held her or told her he loved her as much anymore.
   Perhaps some part of herself had deluded her into believing it was just a phase. Never in her life would she have thought she would be the phase. This was no Superman and Louis Lane love story. This was real life.
    Reign would never want to be associated with a girl who had a low grade power like hers. What good was a healing power if she couldn’t even heal a partner who was never injured anymore?
    (Your name) and him would never get married or have the happy ending she had always hoped to have since her rough childhood. It would only be Reign and Terra’s. The perfect super couple that took the nation by storm. 
    (Your name) sighed, a few tears falling down her face. She had thought his sudden avoidance of her was due to the high stress of his work. So she had given him space to organize his thoughts and feelings. The young woman had tried so hard to comfort him with his favorite foods, writing him notes everyday, and making sure their home was always clean. And for what? For him to cheat on her and lie about it? Did he even deserve a good bye?
    (Your name) thought for a moment before releasing a sad sigh. Reign truly didn’t deserve anymore than she could possibly offer him. He didn’t deserve a good bye. Especially not when he was the one who left first.
    (Your name) knew what she needed to do. It was time to let go before she became even more of a mess. But first, she should clean up her hands and lips. 
    The young woman walked to the bathroom and began rinsing her hands, the hot water stinging the self inflicted wounds lightly. Dull (eye color) orbs staring at her reflection as she released a sigh. She practically looked like a corpse with the bags under her eyes. When was the last time she smiled anyways? Has it truly been a year since she truly felt anything?
    A light green glow left her hands as she healed her broken skin. It was the least she could do so no one thought she was insane when she walked out of this house with a duffle bag.
   (Your name) shut off the water before heading into her separate room to pack her things. The couple hadn’t slept together in months and it really took a toll on her. It was pathetic just how far she had let herself wallow in self loathing and pity. 
    (Eye color) eyes frowned at the photo of a blonde male smiling as he held her younger self. A (skin color) hand reaching out and placing the picture face down. Her hands quickly facing all the photos of them face down so she didn’t have to see his face while she packed. She didn’t want to be reminded of the love they once shared.
    Such a shame the fame had gotten to him. Reign was her first love, her first for so many things. But it was time to put him away, just like he did to her. 
    (Your name) smiled sadly before packing up what few belongings she had, making sure to leave whatever Reign had gotten her behind. She didn’t want any reminders of him and his broken promises any longer.
   “Good bye, Reign.” (Your name) whispered as she left the empty house. “I wish you happiness.”
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.
.
     Bars were never really her scene and yet here she was lightly sipping on some Scotch. The bitter alcohol stinging her throat while her eyes scanned the crowd.
    The scent of sweat and liquor causing her nose to crinkle in disgust. Just what I’m earth was she thinking coming to a place like this?
    This was the nearest bar to the cheap hotel she was staying at for the time being before she found a job to make enough money to move to another city.
    A sigh escaping her throat. Her mind was still in shambles and a complete mess. Even this small glass of liquor couldn’t satisfy the lonely ache in her chest.
    The young woman raised her hand up to attract the bar tender. “I’d like to close my tab please.”
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.
.
   The walk to the hotel wasn’t too bad. Just pass by a few alleyways and she’d be right there in her tiny room. Hopefully there weren’t any roaches in her bed…
   A sudden groan reached her ears, causing the young woman to freeze in place. (Your name) turning her head left towards the alleyway in fright. The young woman trembling as her mind began to race.
   She was going to be stabbed wasn’t she? Young women always got abducted or stabbed… or raped at night. And what could she do to defend herself?! She didn’t even have a taser-
    “Please…” a deep voice barely whispered while another groan left the alleyway. “Please help me…”
    The young woman began to pace as she tried to sort her thoughts. Her mind was telling her no but her heart clenched at the thought of someone truly needing help.
  “Screw it.” (Your name) slowly made her was into the alleyway, her (eye color) eyes nervously scanning the alleyways.
     “Hello?” (Eye color) orbs widened as she stared at the male before her in shock. Deep gashed covering his body while ragged breaths left the male’s throat. The young woman quickly rushing over as she began trying to talk to the young man. “Oh lord, you need a hospital-“
   The male reached a hand out, blood now staining the white sleeves of her coat. Red eyes meeting (eye color) orbs for the first time.
   “N-no hospital…” the male rasped while his eyes gazed at here in desperation. “P-please… put me out of my misery-“
   “I-I can heal you!” The young woman quickly leaned forward while a green glow surrounded her hands while she tried to heal as many of his wounds as she could. “Please don’t die-“
   “It’s okay… I don’t have anything to live for.” There was so much blood. Whatever or whoever had wounded him, had truly wanted him dead. 
    Tears began to gather in her eyes while she tried to desperately heal the large gashes on the man before her. Just why did her powers have to be so weak? 
   “Please, whatever may be out there… I just want to save this one person. Please…” tears fell down her face as the male began to slump over ever so slightly. “I just want to save someone so I can have purpose again.”
   The male’s eyes widened as the green glow began to become brighter while his wounds quickly began closing. A warmth filling his body and soul while she worked her magic. The young woman beginning to slump as a wave of exhaustion hit her.
   “Hey-“ the male quickly caught her before she fell on the pavement. His heart drumming in his chest as he realized she had passed out.
    Healing abilities were so incredibly rare this day and age. They were usually killed off so they wouldn’t interfere with the hospitals since they could heal for free… so just how on earth did she come to find him? Wait a moment…
    The dark haired male smiled softly as he studied her pretty face, his face lighting up in recognition. It was (your name)… She was still so pretty and small… would she be willing to be his new purpose now that she was all alone?
    Did she still remember him from high school? She had always been such a sweet girl, such a shame she chose Reign Huston over him. He could’ve give her the world… but now he could! He truly could give her the world… or at least what would be left of it when he was done with it.
    It must be fate that had brought them together! The string of fate must be tied tightly to their fingers, uniting them in a time of hardship once again.
   The male slowly rose up. The dark haired man carry her out of the alleyway with a smile on his face. 
    “You’ll be my reason to live again and I’ll be yours.” The male waved his right hand, a Violet portal appearing before the two. “My true reason on why I want to burn this world to the ground. Nothing will ever hurt you or I ever again.”
    The poor girl has no idea that the man she just saved was a monster… a monster she had once unknowingly escaped from in the past…
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    Reign finally arrived home after not receiving any texts or calls from (your name). Which was strange for her since she always clung to him whenever he left for long periods of time.
    Maybe she realized what he had to do in order to crawl up the ranks of superheroes. Reign couldn’t afford for the public to know of their relationship. It was dangerous to be with someone who couldn’t protect themselves.
   It would be nerve racking to be seen with a girl who had no name or strong ability to protect herself since he was such a well known hero now. Reign was just lucky Terra was in the same boat as him. With the pink haired woman by his side on the media, he’d be able to have the perfect looking life. A life where (your name) would never be endangered or discovered.
    Reign had felt terrible distancing himself from her but he had felt so guilty for pretending to be with someone else. It was what his agency wanted for more media coverage. Yet he knew this was all for the best if he wanted enough money to move the two of them far from anyone and everything.
     “I’m home-“ silence greeted Reign when he walked into the empty house. His brow furrowing in confusion at the eerie silence. “Hello?”
    The blonde male began to walk around the house, his blue eyes narrowing in concern. Where was she? (Your name) always greeted him when he came home.
   “(Your name)?” Reign reached her bedroom door, the male reaching a hand up to knock on the smooth, white wood. “I’m home-“
    The door creaked open before he could even knock, the male’s blue eyes widening at the sight of a bare room with all of the pictures placed down. The room looked as if it was ransacked in a hurry.
    “(Your name)?!” Reign quickly entered the room as his blue eyes began to scan for any sign of his girlfriend. “(Your name)?!”
    Reign then began to run room to room as he called out for her.
    “(Your name)?! Please answer me!” Reign began to dash to the living room as tears began to gather in his eyes. She couldn’t have left right? Didn’t she know how dangerous it was out there?
   The male took a step near the tv, his foot landing on top of the remote, causing the tv screen to light up. A loop of the broadcast from the other day beginning to talk.
    ‘Today’s broadcast starts off with the news of the blooming relationship between the superhero Hydro and Heroine Terra. The two started off as partners on missions before taking their relationship to the next level! Who knew such chemistry existed between the two?!’
    Reign’s eyes widened in shock as he felt his chest tighten. He had forgotten to hide the remote… she wasn’t supposed to know.
   Reign choked back a sob as he realized what he had done. Oh god… she left him.
    Reign began to freak out. (Your name) had a healing power and that was considered illegal since the hospitals didn’t want any competition. What if she was killed or kidnapped for her powers?
    Reign took a deep breath before trying to calm himself. He was going to have to find her and explain everything.
    Maybe he’d have to use some of his old skills back when he first had gotten (your name) into his arms… it shouldn’t be hard to hack into the city’s traffic cameras. One of them had to have had caught something of her. He was sure of it.
    “Don’t worry, (your name). I’ll find you.”
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    Light trickled down from a window. It’s bright rays shining on (your name)’s face, the young woman groaning as she began to stir awake. Her brows furrowing at the unfamiliar room she resided in. Where in earth was she?
   (Eye color) orbs examined the modern gothic room. The young woman turning her head around to see that the king sized bed was in the center of the room behind the giant windows of a balcony. Green foliage of exotic plants hanging from the ceilings, the giants leaves covering some of the light from the full moon. Long black and red candles sat on shelves on the black walls, illuminating the room in a comforting manner.
    “Are you awake?” A deep voice asked, the young woman turning to gaze at the door frame. A tall male with long black hair stood in the doorframe. His red eyes staring at her in adoration. “You’ve been out like a light for almost two days now.”
    The male stalked forward slowly like a predator. His red eyes never leaving (your name)’s. A small smile slowly crawling on his plump lips while his eyes became half lidded. The male bending down to sit beside her in the bed.
    “You saved my life.” The male then gently grasped her hand in his much larger one, placing a gentle kiss on the back of it. “My name is Dante Hawkthorne. May I have the pleasure of knowing your name?”
    (Your name) blinked a few times in disbelief. The man she had saved was one of the most influential businessmen of the century. Just what on earth was he doing in an alleyway? Could he have been jumped? Or maybe he was doing something sleazy?
    (Your name) shook her head to clear her thoughts. It’s not like it was her place to judge him since she was also on the sleazier part of town.
    “My name is (your full name).” The young woman gave him a soft smile, causing Dante’s cheeks to blush.
    “That’s a beautiful name for a beautiful girl…” the young man then slowly pulled away from her as he stood up to his full height. “Would you care to have dinner with me?”
    (Your name) raised a brow at the arm he offered for her to grab. It wouldn’t hurt to indulge in his offer would it?
    “That sounds lovely, Dante.” The male’s breath hitched for a moment before he quickly composed himself.
    “How does (favorite meal) sound?” The two began making their way towards the dining hall. Each one exchanging small talk.
    Turns out Dante was only three years her senior and he owned a lot of morgues and graveyards in the city. She would’ve never thought he’d be the type involved with the dead so it was pretty interesting to see and hear about.
     Yet she couldn’t help but have a deep gut feeling that there was something off about him.
   Perhaps it was the way his eyes lingered on her a little too much for comfort or the way he couldn’t keep his hands to himself. His large hands constantly rubbing against hers as they made their way towards the dining hall in the long hallways.
    “Are you alright, Dante?” The male simply gave her a soft smile as he stared at her lips intently.
    “Yes. I cannot thank you enough for what you did for me back there. Perhaps it has made me enamored with you.”
    “Pardon?”
   “How do I put this?” Dante tapped a pale finger to his light pink lips before giving her a flirtatious smirk. “You enthrall me.”
    (Your name) blinked a few times at the oddly flirtatious male before giving him a nervous smile. She had never been the type of girl who had gotten the attention of men like this before. What on earth was she supposed to do?
    “Um… I’m flattered?” A deep chuckle broke her from her nervous thoughts.
   “You’re quite cute, miss (your name).” The young woman could only chuckle nervously while she turned her head towards the ground. Hopefully he would let her leave soon after this meal. She really needed to get out of this city as soon as possible.
    “Um… thank you.” The young woman perked up at the sight of the long table in the center of the grand, gothic dining hall. “Oh wow. Your home is so lovely.”
    (Eye color) orbs gazed intently at the various portraits on the walls. A shiver rolling down her spine when her eyes met one of a young woman that looked eerily similar to herself. And did that painting just blink?
     (Your name) nearly jumped out of her shoes at the sudden creak the chair made while Dante pulled it out of place. The brunette giving her a soft smile, as if to reassure her that he only had benevolent intentions towards her.
    “Thank you, Dante.” (Your name) gently took a seat. Dante quickly sliding her into her spot before taking a seat beside her. 
     A group of masked butlers quickly scurried into the room with various bottles of expensive looking liquor in their black gloved hands. Which seemed odd to the young woman that she couldn’t see their face or hands.
     “Would you care for some wine? I have all kinds of flavors and colors. Whatever you may like.” Dante smiled, gesturing his hand to all of the bottles the butlers held. 
    “Oh… I would like some (favorite wine).” 
     “Excellent choice, my dear.” Dante then snapped his fingers, one of the butlers gracefully walking forward. The red number one reflecting off the black wooden mask on his face. His feet moving in an uncomfortably stiff way that was almost unnatural. It was if the butler was a doll.
    With perfect poise, the butler’s posture never grew slack as he poured the (wine color) wine into the glass in front of her. The butler than quickly snapped to attention once the wine was poured, giving the two a low bow.
    “Thank you, Henry.” The butler then made his way back to the other line of butlers while another stepped forward to pour a deep red wine into Dante’s cup, the dark haired male giving her a smile. The red number seven was on this butlers head, but that wasn’t what made the hair stand up on the back of (your name)’s neck. It was the fact that she couldn’t see the butler’s eyes, almost as if he didn’t have any.
   “(Your name). Are you ready for the meal?” Dante asked the young woman, snapping her from her musings. The young woman giving Dante a nervous smile. 
   “That sounds lovely.” Dante snapped his fingers. The butlers stepping back to make room for the black masked cooks to make their way towards the couple. The numbers one, two, and three on their masks this time. Yet unlike the butlers, the numbers on their foreheads were a dull yellow rather than a deep red.
    The tallest one, three, pushed a golden cart that had two golden covers atop of the golden plates. The shortest one, number one, then perfectly placed the meals in front of the two. Just as stiffly as the butler who had poured their wine into their drinks.
    “Thank you.” (Your name) told the butler, who didn’t respond, causing Dante to narrow his eyes.
    “She told you thank you, Ayden.” Dante hissed, the cook hurriedly giving the young woman a bow. A smile now in place on Dante’s lips. “Thank you, Ayden.”
   The cook with the number two then stepped forward to hand (your name) and Dante a glass of water. The three cooks giving them a curt bow before pushing their golden cart away and back to the kitchen.
    (Your name) pulled the lid off, her eye brows furrowing at what lord under the cover… this was (favorite food)… how did Dante know her favorite meal?
    “What’s the matter, (your name)? Is the food not to your liking?” Dante asked with furrows brows, the male clenching his fists tightly. “I can ask the cooks to remake it. Is it not (hot/ cold) enough?”
    “Oh it’s not that, Dante.” (Your name) gave the dark haired male a reassuring smile, causing him to unclench his fist. “This is my favorite food… it was just interesting on how this is what they served me is all.”
    “Oh!” Dante removed the lid on his food to reveal the same meal. “It’s my favorite food as well!”
   (Your name) sighed in relief as she took a bite from the meal. This was probably the best she’s ever had of it. “This is delicious, Dante.”
    “I only have the best in my home.” Dante smiled, the male then grabbing his glass as he raised it. “A toast to you, my savior.”
    (Your name) nervously raised the glass before clinking it with Dante’s. The two taking a swig. The taste was a little off, which may be due to how expensive it looked. But other than that, the wine was excellent.
     “Is the wine also to you liking?”
    “It’s very good.” Dante smiled as he intently watched (your name) eat her food. 
    A sudden wave of tiredness swept over the young woman, which was odd.
    “Are you alright, (your name)?” Dante asked, his brows furrowing in worry as he rose from his seat.
    “Oh I am just a little tired is all.” (Your name) gave Dante a reassuring smile. “It feels terribly rude to be so tired when I’m sharing a meal with you.”
    “Nonsense. You can spend the night here.” Dante smiled, causing (your name) to grow goosebumps at the strange look in his eyes. (Your name) raised her hands up while she tried to think of an excuse to leave. Something felt off.
    “Oh but I don’t want to be a burden-“ Dante’s hands clasped her.
   “Oh what nonsense. You saved my life!” Dante flashed (your name) a charming smile, the young man then rose up from his seat. Dante held out a large, pale hand to her. “I can escort you to your room if you are not comfortable walking alone. Tomorrow I can also arrange a maid or two to prepare a bath for you until you feel better.”
    (Your name) hesitantly took Dante’s hand, the young man helping her up from her chair. His red eyes never leaving her form. 
    Dante snapped his fingers, nodding his head at cook one and two to gather up the plates.
   “Perhaps tomorrow, in the morning we could have a nice breakfast in the garden?” Dante smiled, which caused (your name) to nervously giggle. “It’d be like a date-“
    “Oh I just got out of a relationship so I’m not sure if I feel comfortable going so fast yet-“ (your name) shivered at the twisted smile that flashed on Dante’s lips for the briefest of moments. 
    “I’m a patient man, (your name). I can wait.” Dante led her towards her room, his eyes carefully observing her to make sure she didn’t pass out too early. Soon she would be completely in his grasp and assimilated in her new role.
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    Pale fingers traced circles on (your name)’s smooth skin, the fingers slowly working their way up to her (hair type) locks.
    “You’re still so beautiful even after all these years.” Dante smiled dreamily before grasping small section of her hair and brining it to his lips. Dante pressed his soft lips to the hair before taking in a deep inhale of her scent. The male moaning in ecstasy.
     How many years has it been since he’s last touched her? Seven? Eight?
     The male shivered to himself when (your name) released a soft breath while she slept. Her lips looked so soft… it would be okay if he snuck just a small kiss on her, right?
    Dante gulped while his palms began to sweat profusely in anticipation. His teenage self had always dreamed of touching her. Of being with her… of being inside of her. 
     Dante wanted to be inside her body, mind, and soul. He wanted to be the thought, no, the being that never left her mind. The one she would call out for at night as he pleasured her night after night, day after day. He wanted her to be all of his just like he was always all of hers.
    Dante slowly swung his body on top of hers. His form straddling hers while his body looked over hers. His red eyes almost glowing in the dark like a predator of the night.
    Dante interlaced his fingers with her hands as he held her hands above her head. His long black locks hanging over his face, the locks tickling her skin.
    “I have always loved you… it’s meant to be, (your name)…” Dante then leaned forward, his warm breath fanning her face. His eyes becoming heavy lidded with lust. “You were always so sweet to me… it was so hard to live without you for all these years…”
    “But it’s worth all the pain and suffering I had to go through now that we’ve crossed paths again…” Dante released a soft chuckle before leaning his face just an inch from hers. “I wonder if you’ll ever know who I am unless I show you a picture from the past… I wouldn’t mind either way because the face you have now is custom made just for you.”
    Dante’s lips then gently pressed against hers. His breathing becoming erratic when he immediately pulled away. His eyes now completely consumed with lust, his hips slowly grinding into hers. A low moan escaping his lips, the male biting them to prevent anymore sounds from leaving him.
    “The doctor said the drugs were pretty strong so I could kiss and touch you more… I could kiss and touch you all over.” Dante then pressed his lips to her lips again and again. The young man moving his lips all over her face and shoulder in a sort of worshipping manner. “You’re mine now. Mine. Mine. Mine.”
    “So won’t you love me more than him now?”
    Dante glanced at the clock before sighing at the time. It was almost midnight now. He should probably let her get some rest.
    Red eyes took a longing look at her pretty hairs, his eyes flashing with desire yet again. 
    “I’ll just take a small amount of hair… you won’t even notice.” Dante pulled a knife from his pocket with a smile on his face. “I’ll add it to my collection.”
     “Welcome home, (your name).”
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    “Shit!” Reign hissed as he slammed his fist into the wall of the seedy motel. (Your name) hasn’t returned to her motel room in a few days now. Could something have happened to her?
    Reign placed his head in his hands as he sighed in aggravation. It was highly unlikely anyone would have her. If anyone… no, no. It couldn’t possibly be that weirdo from high school… what was his name again?
     Dante Noxwell. He was always hovering around wherever (your name) was when they were in school, picking up items she dropped like some sort of pigeon hungry for scraps. He was never a very good looking fellow either with his hunched over back and scarred face. 
    Yet that never stopped (your name) from being kind to the freak. She always sent a smile his way or laughed at his stupid jokes… Reign knew Dante coveted her. Reign always watched Dante’s red eyes stare at (your name) longingly, almost as if he thought he was worthy of her.
    It disgusted Reign to no end. Dante’s eyes, Dante’s smiles, and most of all, his audacity to even breathe the same air as (your name), pissed him off to no end.
    No one deserved to be around her, no one but him. Nobody could protect (your name) as well as Reign did. It was Reign’s own fault for being careless and leaving the tv remote in a place she could find it. She just didn’t understand the lengths he had to go through to protect her. 
    Once he found her though, he would be sure to lock her up even better this time. He had gotten too comfortable with time but he’d have to improve where he failed. 
   Reign swore to himself he’d never fail (your name) ever again. She would never, ever escape from him again. Never.
    Reign stormed out of the room, his head deep in his thoughts. Perhaps he could try Dante’s address… it wouldn’t hurt to try would it?
    Reign placed his hand in his pockets. Completely unaware of the security camera focused on him…
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    (Your name) groaned, the dancing dreams flickering away when her eyes fluttered opened to see the bright sun light that lit up the room. Had she truly passed out?
    (Your name) glanced around the room in confusion. How I’m earth did she get back to her room and what was going on?
     “Hello-“
    The bedroom door creaked open revealing a tall feminine figure. The maid wore a white mask with the number seven on it in pink, entered the room with perfect posture. The door loudly shutting behind her.
    The maid gave (your name) a curtsy before grabbing an outfit from the closet beside the bed. Her white gloves were completely spotless and she had such a strange scent to her…
     “Oh, you don’t have to-“ (your name)’s eyes widened at all the clothes that were in her size. How on earth did they have her size? “How do you have my size-“
  The maid gently handed (your name) the clothes, the young woman grabbing her hand in haste.
    “Wait-“ the maid pulled her arm away, the glove slipping off her hand a bit to reveal greenish tinted skin. Alarm bells ringing in (your name)’s head at the sight. “What-“
    The maid quickly pulled up her glove before bowing. The maid quickly exited the room, (your name)’s mouth hanging open in surprise.
   What on earth was wrong with the maid’s skin?
   “Are you decent yet, (your name)?” Dante’s low voice from the other side of the door requested politely. “I’ll escort you to breakfast on the patio personally.”
      “Not yet!” (Your name) bit at her nails. The young woman didn’t really want to stay at Dante’s home any longer. Something felt completely off about the place and she did not want to spend a minute longer in here.
     (Your name) nervously fidgeted with her hands. She was going to have to sneak out at night in order to get away from him. And hopefully everyone would be asleep by then.
   Dante frowned at (your name). He could tell what the young woman was thinking and he didn’t like it one bit. Looks like he’d have to teach her a lesson earlier than expected.
    For now, he’s play along. He would treat her like a princess and make sure not to slip up in front of her. 
    A soft jingle came from Dante's phone, the male quickly looking at the device in annoyance. Yet his expression quickly changed to joy at what he saw.
    “Oh what is it, Dante?” (Your name) asked, a fake smile on her pretty lips.
    “Oh nothing too crazy…” Dante gave (your name) a bright jovial smile. “Just found out I finally caught the rat in my trap is all. That vermin has been plaguing me for quite some time.”
   (Your name) nodded, completely oblivious to what Dante had truly meant. But that was okay. Dante didn’t think she’d like that he had referred to Reign as a rat.
  Yet she didn’t know that Dante had purposely put out the wrong address for people to find him at if they looked hard enough. It was always funny to see his enemies in the graveyard they would soon be buried in.
    Dante cleared his throat before gleaming at the woman beside him. She had no idea how elated he truly was with this news. One more body to join his collection.
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      Dante smiled at all of the security footage on his computer screen. His face twisting into a grin as he spotted Reign entering the hotel where (your name) was last seen. 
    How silly of Reign to not think that Dante would finally have the upper hand this time. 
    A deep chuckle left Dante’s throat, his eyes turning to the other monitor to see all the angles of (your name)’s bedroom. A dreamy sigh leaving his throat.
   “Soon you’ll be all mine. And this time with no interruptions.” Dante leaned his cheek against the screen that showed (your name) sleeping in her bed. The dark haired man gently kissing the screen before releasing a dreamy sigh. “It’ll all go the way it was supposed to the first time.”
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     (Your name) wandered around the halls, being sure to duck into the corners to avoid being spotted by the workers of the estate. 
    She had to get out of here as quickly as she could. It just didn’t feel safe anymore. It has already been almost two weeks since she had been trapped in this estate. 
  Anything was better than being trapped like a bird in a cage again.
    (Eye color) eyes peered around the corners to make sure no one would spot her before she crossed over to the other hall. So far, no luck in finding an exit.
   Tap. Tap. Tap. (Your name) paused in her steps, her eyes widening at the sight of a masked worker with a blue number, eighteen, on their forehead that strolled adjacent to the hall she was on. The young woman gulping at the rifle strapped to their back. Why on earth would a worker need a rifle?
   (Eye color) orbs quickly scanned for a place to hid. A black door sat to her right. 
  As quiet as a mouse, the young woman tiptoed to the door. Her body shaking in fear of being discovered by the worker. 
   (Skin color) hands shook as she turned the handle. The woman rushed into the door, the door softly clicking shut behind her. A sigh of relief leaving her throat.
    (Your name) turned around and leaned her back against the door. Her (eye color) orbs widening at shock in what the room held. 
   The room stretched in a barely illuminated hall. A large portrait covered with a red drape sat on the end of the hall as well as a light switch. Each side of the wall appeared to be lined with a pattern of mirrors and portraits of some sort.
  What on earth could that possibly be? What were truly on those walls?
    Before (your name) could stop herself, her feet wandered forwards towards the covered up portrait. As if she were a piece of metal drawn to a powerful magnet.
    She needed to know what was behind that drape. Perhaps it was the truth of this entire situation. Her  limbs continued to move on their own. Her hands reaching out to lightly touch the drape that held the portrait.
    With a sharp tug, the drape fell to the ground, all the lights turning on in the room to reveal the entire hall. The grotesque face of a boy from her past staring back at her.  The scarred up face of her schoolmate stared back at her with his dull red eyes.
   “Oh my god…” (your name) took a step back before falling onto her bottom. It all made sense now on why she felt so uncomfortable.
   (Your name) then turned to gaze down the lit up hall. Bile riding in her throat at the various portraits of Dante’s face and body changing over the years. Yet it was one that stuck out to her the most…
    It was the small picture of Reign that sat in the corner of each portrait. Was Dante trying to be Reign?
    (Your name) quickly rose up to her feet. She had to leave. She had to get out of here. It wasn’t safe here. No… it was never safe here.
    (Your name) quickly dashed down the hall, only to see one of the guards standing in front of the doorway. A rotting stench coming from him.
   “Please move-“ the guard pushed his mask aside to reveal the green skin of a walking corpse. His eyes, nose, and tongue completely missing. 
     (Your name) screamed loudly as the guard came charging at her. An inhuman snarl leaving the guard’s throat. 
   But a swift kick came to the guard’s side. Dante standing over the guard with a disgusted look on his face.
    “What a useless puppet you are.” Dante then held out his hand, the corpse instantly turning to dust. “He didn’t scare you too much, did he darling?”
    (Your name) froze at the familiar nickname. Her whole body convulsing into shivers.
    “I’m glad you know who I am now!” Dante smiled brightly  as if he hadn’t just turned a corpse to dust a second ago. “We can finally continue where we left off!”
    “What are you talking about?” (Your name) whimpered, Dante chuckling. His red eyes shining brightly.
    “Well the answer to the letter I sent you all those years ago, darling!” Dante exclaimed, throwing his arms up in the air. “Unless you didn’t get to read it before that bastard ripped it out of your hands.”
    Oh (your name) knew exactly what Dante was talking about. He had written her many, many creepy love letters those years. The dead body of the kitten she used to feed was still fresh into her memory. Dante had claimed he saw Reign had poisoned the kitten due to jealousy and wanted her to give it a proper burial. Yet (your name) didn’t think her ex would do such a horrible thing… right?
 But the one he had personally delivered to her was the most simple of all. Dante had asked her to be his girlfriend on his knees in front of the entire school and Reign tore up the confession letter. The blonde then kicking Dante across the head repeatedly.
    “I don’t know if I can give you an answer-“
    “Darling. Baby! You’ve had seven years to think!” Dante’s expression changed to match his frustration with (your name)’s difficulty. “And I had seven years to adjust my appearance to your tastes. Do you know how busy I was over these years? How many diet plans and how much  exercise I pushed myself through just to become the perfect man for you?”
    Dante ripped the front of his shirt to show her his chisels physique. “This body was made specifically for you! I know you’ve always liked the pretty type-“
    “I-I am flattered, but we just met again-“
    “I’m sure you could love me now that I don’t look like what I used to.” Dante interrupted, his large hands holding hers tightly. “I had a hard time finding these parts to use over the years but I only got the best! Just for you! I almost gave up when I couldn’t find you again. My puppets weren’t efficient enough, I guess.“
   (Your name) furrowed her brows at his words, a shiver rolling down her line. What did he mean?
   “What-“
   “Oh you didn’t know did you?” Dante chuckles before holding out his hand, a large number of workers walking up to the door. “My ability is that I can control the dead.”
   (Your name) shuddered as she watched the workers removed their masks to reveal the green skinned monsters she had seen a little while ago. So everyone here was undead?
    “See? I think I can keep you safe better than Reign can! He locked you away so well for all these years. I couldn’t find you like I used to be able to!” (Your name) felt as if she went numb. Could Reign have been insane as well? Did her ex truly lock her away from the world. 
   “Don’t worry! I can do everything he can do but better!” Dante exclaimed with a bright smile. “I just love you so much!”
    “Dante-“ Dante’s hands quickly grasped hers. His red eyes staring intently into hers.
   “You saved me just like you always used to. Its destiny. Can’t you see?” Dante then pressed his lips to her forehead, his body shivering at the contact. “I can love you so much more than Reign can and I make so much more money than him. I could provide for you-“
    “Dante, it’s okay-“
   Dante suddenly pressed his lips against (your name)’s, his soft lips turning into a smile at the contact. The male slowly pulling away.
   “I could give you so much more than he can.” Dante then wrapped his arms around her waist to pull her onto his lap. His manhood slowly grinding into hers. “I could… I could please you… whatever you want. I’ll do-“
  “But I want to leave-“ Dante pulled (your name) in for another kiss. His tongue forcefully entering her mouth hole his hands began to grab every bit of flesh he could on her body. A strong of saliva connecting the two when he pulled away again.
   “You can’t. You can’t ever leave me again.” Dante buried his head into the crook of her neck. “I’ll go insane. I won’t be able to live again without you. Please just stay, just stay with me. I’ll make you happy.”
    “Dante I’d be happier outside-“ a sharp prick interrupted (your name)’s words. Her eyes widening at Dante’s twisted smile. 
    “No. You can’t leave again…no. I won’t let you.” (Your name) could feel her body going limp, Dante quickly pulling her into his arms. 
    “I promise to love you more than he ever could. I promise you. I’ll keep you safe.”
    (Your name) felt her vision going dark, her eyes fluttering in and out of consciousness. Fear consuming her entire being at the last words she heard from Dante before going into a dreamless sleep.
    “He’ll be taken care of shortly. No more interruptions this time.” 
   What on earth could he possibly mean by that?
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    Reign stood in front of a grave yard in confusion. This couldn’t possibly be Dante’s address could it?
    Reign strolled forward. His brows furrowing in thought, unaware of the many eyes that followed his every movement.
   Reign sighed before walking up to the mausoleum in annoyance. Something felt off to him. Almost as if he was missing something. 
  Reign froze when he heard a crunch behind him. The blonde quickly spun around to come face to face with a dark haired man.
    “Who are you?” Reign asked, his brows furrowed in confusion and fear. Why was a man in the middle of a graveyard? 
    “You know who I am very well, Reign.” The male chuckled before slowly walking towards Reign. A twisted smile on his lips. “You used to make my life a living hell everyday after all.”
   “No… you can’t possibly be…” Reign couldn’t believe what he was hearing. There was no way the man in front of him was Dante. He was far too beautiful to be the hunched back boy he used to bully. “Dante?”
    “In the flesh, or at least what is left. I sort of killed that old Dante off years ago.” Dante chuckled, his red eyes meeting Reign’s shocked blue ones. “That boy was far too weak and too helpless to stop you back then. But now… ever since I got my powers. I can easily stop you.”
   Reign held out a hand to blast water at Dante, only for arms to shoot out from the ground and grab his arms and feet. Reign screamed at the sight of all the undead monsters below him. The blonde thrashing to escape but to no avail.
   “Why don’t we chat for a bit, Reign? We have lots of catching up to do after all.” Dante smiled before a chair made of bones rose up from the ground for him to sit on. “You are supposedly supposed to defeat me after all. Nox is a good villain name, don’t you think?”
    “You’re sick. How could you kill so many people-“ a twisted laugh interrupted Reign. Reign’s eyes widening in fear at the feral look on Dante’s face.
   “I’m sick? Then what are you? A saint?” Dante stood from  his chair, the tall male grabbing Reign’s jaw to stare him directly in the eye. “You killed too for her you know. And hurt. And bullied. I was merely searching for her is all. I even tried to find her in other people but to no avail…”
   Dante let go of Reign’s chin to reach into his coat pocket. His pale hand holding out a strand of (hair color) hair in front of the blonde. Reign’s breath hitching in fear and anger.
   “What did you do to her… what did you do to her?!”
   Dante laughed as he began to taunt the blonde with the locks of hair. “Oh nothing yet. I’m merely trying to have her warm her heart up to me. The Stockholm syndrome merely hasn’t set in yet. But she’ll be set for life if she gives into it.”
   Dante placed a hand to his cheek as he let out a lovesick sigh. “She’ll be such a beautiful bride. I did so much work trying to make everything perfect for her… the perfect looking husband, the perfect home, and… a lot of money. I could provide for her and maybe even a small family if she’d allow me the pleasure!” Dante gave Reign a mischievous smirk. “Something you could’ve easily have had if you hadn’t slipped up. Thank you for that by the way. Her and I have been reunited at last… I promise to take good care of her-“
    A glob of spit hit Dante’s cheek, causing Dante to sigh in annoyance. Dante wiped the spit off his cheek in distaste before glaring at Reign.
   “Tch. Seven years and you still haven’t learned proper manners. A shame.”
    “Go to hell.” Reign snarled, his blue eyes glowering at Dante in hatred. 
   “I’ll see you there in a few years then.”
   “I’m going to save her from you!” Reign snarled, the blonde thrashing in the undead’s cold grasp. “I will get her back-“
   Dante gave Reign a sadistic smile, causing the blonde to freeze up. 
    “Sorry. I don’t plan on giving you the same luxury you gave me all this years ago when you beat me to a pulp in front of the entire school.” Dante began to shush the blonde’s tears in a teasing manner. “Shhhh. You’ll be among the dead soon. And I will be the only victor from this.” 
   “But… heroes always-“
   “Oh but who ever said you were a hero?” Dante teased. “Heroes would never do the things you do. You could’ve moved on like a normal person but just like a rat, you’re always digging into places you shouldn’t be. A pity.”
    Dante snapped his fingers, a large army of the undead crawling out from their graves like grotesque puppets.
    “Kill him.” Dante then walked away, the sound of Reign’s screams filling the graveyard. A sound that came to a sudden halt, almost as if it had never even happened.
    “What a shame. I was really hoping for something more… climatic to our reunion.” Dante muttered to himself before turning back. “But I do truly think she’d come to love me more.”
    Dante snapped his finger, a reanimated Reign crawling towards him. A sinister smile crawling on his lips. “Don’t you think I’m more suited for (your name), Reign?”
1K notes · View notes
gucciwins · 6 days
Text
harry brings his girlfriend home to meet his family but it does not go as planned
word count: 5896
a/n: enjoy this story inspired by a lovely anon. happy reading, my sweet friends 💜
+
Y/N was nervous. 
She squeezed Harry’s hand, trying to ground herself, but it seemed to transport her to the first time they met at the diner down the street from her apartment. 
Going to university in Los Angeles wasn’t glamorous, not when she had endless bills to pay to keep a roof over her head. She had gone to Martha’s Cakes, a small diner ten minutes from her apartment that served the best hot chocolate. The food was good too but the hot chocolate is what she ordered each visit without fail. It’s a place she’d eat when Y/N had a bit of extra to spend on herself. Instead of buying herself new shoes, or another jelly cat bag charm (Otto, the sausage dog, went everywhere with her) she decided on eating a good meal that didn’t consist of ramen or buttered noodles. She came here when she needed a pick me up or simply wanted to have a nice conversation. It was a late Tuesday in the Spring. Where the sun took longer to come down, allowing her extra time at the bar to do assignments and chat with Antonio about the best produce sales. Y/N had her head down working on an essay due two weeks from now. It was based on one of Los Angeles buildings; it could be based on the oldest church to the Dodger Stadium. Y/N decided on the Avila Adobe residence. Known as the oldest standing residence in the City of Los Angeles. Olvera St. was a famous street and was filled with history. It was one of her favorite places to walk through. 
As she was looking through photos, taking notes of significant dates, a patron sat next to her. Y/N didn’t bother seeing who it was, simply scooting her scattered papers closer to her, tucking a few under her laptop. 
“It’s not bothering me.” A man spoke. 
It startled Y/N only because he had a deep British voice. It felt odd to be hearing in such an unknown area. 
“Darla would throw coffee on it if she saw I was bothering a customer.” 
“I said it’s okay.” 
Y/N laughs. “She would say it wasn’t.” 
It seems the man lets it drop as he has nothing to reply. Y/N keeps up with updating her notes as she hears the man order a stack of the lemon poppy pancakes. Those were her favorite, Y/N would get them when she was having a bad day because it would without a fail make her smile. Y/N worked in silence over the next half hour when she felt the need to step to the restroom. Y/N did not want to pack up. Usually she asks a staff member to watch her items, but the diner seemed to be a bit busier. She looked around and her eyes landed on the pancake guy who had his headphones on. She hated bothering people, but he looked kind enough. 
Y/N tapped next to his plate to get his attention. It worked because in seconds he slipped off his headphones and had turned his whole body to look at her. It gave her the chance to look at him fully for the first time. He had a buzz cut, and it looked really good. He had slight stubble, but what captured her attention were his bright jade eyes. It felt like he was staring deep into her soul.
“Do–uh–Would you please watch my stuff? I have to use the ladies’ room.”
“Course. Guard it with my life.” 
Y/N thanked him and hurried away. When she came back, the man had slightly shifted over, his eyes staring intently at the dark screen of her laptop. 
“Thank you,” she shot him a smile. Waking up her screen and getting back to her assignment, except she couldn’t get the man out of her head. 
The dimples were something she focused on when he smiled, telling her it was no problem. Then his green eyes were so beautiful she felt she had seen them before. Though she could swear she had never met him before. She did have a weird feeling she had seen him before. Once it hit eight o’clock, Y/N knew it was time to call it. Y/N had her rough draft ready and could continue tomorrow. For now, she’d walk home and take a bath to wash away today’s day. 
Y/N was packing up and could see the green-eyed gentleman was too. She would hate herself if she didn’t ask him where she knew him from, if she knew him. Y/N had her bag strapped on her shoulder and turned to him for the last time. 
“Excuse me, sir?”
He turned, as if he was waiting to hear from her. “Yes?” 
“How do I know you?” 
The man’s smile dropped. He looked confused, so she didn’t know him. 
“Don’t think we’ve met, until today, Y/N.”
Y/N’s frown deepens. “I didn’t tell you my name.”
He pointed to her bag. She looks down at the red stitching displaying her name. Well, now she looked dumb. Of course, he could read. “You look familiar to me. Sorry if that’s weird.”
The guy clears his throat, shaking his head. “I get that a lot.” 
That’s odd, Y/N thought. 
“I feel like I know you,” she tried one last time. 
“Promise we don’t know each other. I would remember someone as beautiful as you.” 
Y/N’s jaw dropped (not literally), but her face felt warm. Fuck, she was not expecting this turn of event. “Ha, uh. I want to say me too, but uh, there’s something familiar about you.” 
Harry chuckles as if he knows something she doesn’t. 
“Can I walk you out?” He asks. 
She nods. He leaves a large tip and follows her to the exit. Y/N ways to Sonia, who shoots her thumbs up, but Y/N has no idea why. Y/N and the man linger outside the door, waiting to see who makes the first move. 
“Well, uh, can I have your Instagram?” Y/N asks, not knowing if asking for his number was too forward. At least this way she could stalk him for a bit. 
“Oh, I don’t use that. I can give you my number,” he counters. 
Y/N perks up. “That works.” She hands him her phone where she watches his hands type in his phone number into her contacts. He hands her back her phone, and she looks at the newly added contact. 
Harry S. 
It seemed that’s all she needed for her to connect the dots. She lifts her head up and Harry has a flushed face. He didn’t look away from her, almost waiting to see what she’d say. 
Y/N not sure how to break the silence. “Harry Sanchez?” 
Harry laughs, and it’s all the confirmation Y/N needs. “More like Styles.” 
“Oh.” 
Did she fuck up her chances? She feels like she didn’t. She got his number. 
“What can I use your number for?” She asks, wanting to double check. He still wants her to have it.
“Hopefully for us to plan a date.” 
“Even after this,” she points between them as if to explain what they know just happened. 
“I’d like to see where it could go.” 
“Shit, uh. Well–I’m free Thursday.” Harry smirks, making her want to crawl in a hole because now she feels desperate. “I’m going to leave.”
Harry stops her by grabbing her hand. “I think Thursday is perfect. Are you up for a sunset dinner by the beach?” 
“Sounds perfect,” she promised him. 
“Good. Thursday it is.”
Now she is standing in front of his childhood home, about to meet his mother and older sister. Y/N had spoken to his mother, Anne, on the phone a few times, but his sister was always busy when Harry tried to pass her the phone. Harry promised her it would go well, but she feared the worst. Their story was genuine but to others could sound fabricated but come on, no one knows Martha’s cakes, it’s not even on Yelp. It’s a place once stumbled upon and then shares the magic with people in their life. 
Harry said he felt like coffee and walked for a while until he saw people walk out. The smell of coffee is what drew him in, but the pretty girl he sat next to had him stay for hours. It’s something he shared months down the line. Y/N and Harry had now been together for nine months. Because of her Master’s Y/N had no time to travel. Harry visited home often, but Y/N couldn’t drop everything she was doing to go with him. He understood, but she felt his family wouldn’t. Harry met her dad and twin brothers six months into dating because they lived down in San Diego, only a two-hour drive from them. While Harry’s family lived an ocean away and she refused for him to pay for her flight to London. On top of that, she had classes and exams to worry about that did not allow her to hop on a flight for a week. Thankfully, she made it through the winter semester and had a few weeks off from her internship before going back for her last semester. Y/N knew graduation was just around the corner, and thankfully, had little debt to pay off.
Harry held her tight as he led her up the steps. Y/N was walking slower, trying to prolong the introduction. In her mind, she hoped she was simply psyching herself out and that things actually went well with Harry’s family. That they accepted her because they could see how much she loved him. 
“You ready, Lovie?” Harry flashed her a dimpled grin.
Truthfully, she wanted to say no, but Y/N couldn’t do that to him. Not when he was bouncing with excitement. “Ready.” She confirmed. 
Harry gave two loud knocks and then opened the front door. Y/N stood behind him as he rushed to embrace his mother. Anne was a sweet woman, much shorter than Harry, but by the tight embrace she held Harry, Y/N could tell she was strong. 
Anne gave Harry two big kisses, one on each cheek, before turning her attention to Y/N. 
“Y/N!” Anne cheered. She said it with so much delight, it surprised Y/N. 
In a matter of seconds, someone tightly wrapped Y/N in a hug, which she quickly reciprocated. “It’s lovely to meet you, Mrs. Twist.” 
Anne waved her off. “Call me Anne, my dear.” 
“Anne,” Y/N repeated.
“Now come in and tell me all about the trip. Did he trick you into going to that fancy lounge where you get free food?” Y/N giggled because Harry indeed took her to a fancy lounge when he said he was taking her to get a smoothie. 
Y/N spared a smile at Harry, but it was quick to fall when Y/N met another pair of eyes in the kitchen, looking at her with an intense stare. It dropped quickly because her attention shifted to Harry. Y/N focused back on Anne, trying to brush off the moment as something she imagined. 
Y/N tried her best to ignore the pit forming in her stomach. There was no need to worry. Harry talked about wonderful things about his family. She was in safe hands. At least that’s what she kept reminding herself.
+
Y/N didn’t feel welcome. Anne was a gem, but Gemma was cold and looked bored whenever Y/N said a word. Y/N wondered if Harry picked up on it. He hadn’t said a word. Harry was home and had no time to deal with Y/N’s insecurities. She had to be reading into Gemma, not liking her. Harry spoke the world of his older sister. He said she was his best friend, someone whose opinion he valued. Fear struck her. If Gemma didn’t like her after this visit, she knew that as soon as she got on that plane to go home, Harry would be breaking up with her. At least she’d had several hours to cry about on the plane pathetically.  
“There’s no way she didn’t know who you were,” Gemma scoffed, unbelieving of their story. 
Harry brushed off her comment as if she said nothing. “Gem, I was bald.” 
“Your face didn’t change.”
Harry sighs, “no, but you did a double take when I showed up to your doorstep to show you.” 
Gemma frowns, knowing he was right. “Whatever, you were all over twitter.” 
Harry is beginning to pick up on his sister’s defense and knows to drop it but will be picking it up with her later. “Anyway. Sitting next to each other, she asked me to watch her stuff when she had to use the restroom.”
“To look you up,” Gemma coughs.
Y/N fidgets in her chair, wanting to be anywhere but here. Harry continues with his story. “She thanked me and went back to her work. Before she left, Y/N asked if we knew each other, but I told her we didn’t. I wouldn’t forget someone as beautiful as her.” 
“Charming,” Anne gloats. “My charming boy.” 
Harry finished the story, stating it was meant to be. He had loved spending the time in Los Angeles getting to see the city through Y/N’s eyes. It’s a city she’s been living in for a couple of years. There was a lot for her to share with him. Harry had taken a liking to her favorite coffee shop. It had a design resembling a greenhouse and filled with plants, mainly featuring dried lavender. Truthfully, he spent a lot of time there because it was Y/N’s preferred place to study because it never got busy. Y/N called it her hidden gem. 
“I’ve never been happier,” Harry shares. Y/N beams at his words but can’t help glancing at Gemma, who can’t help but look sick to her stomach at hearing this news.
Dinner passed dreadfully slowly. Y/N comments when she needs to but honestly hopes to disappear for the night soon, no longer wanting to burden Gemma with her presence. While Anne showed Y/N where she could freshen up, Harry stayed downstairs to share a nightcap with his sister. 
Anne comes back to join them, but Gemma bites her tongue until their mother bids them goodnight. Harry gives his mother a tight embrace, commenting on how much he missed her. Gemma was happy her younger brother was home. 
“Are you happy, Harry?” Gemma breaks the silence that had fallen between them.
Harry sighs, “never been happier.” 
Gemma frowns, because she believes him. “I-I-nevermind.” 
Harry frowns because Gemma is never someone to stop herself from saying what’s on her mind. “Hey,” he places his hand on top of hers. “It’s me. Your annoying younger brother, you can tell me anything.” 
She removes her hand from under his and places them on her lap. “I don’t think she’s right for you.”
Harry sits back, surprised. “Sorry?”
“It’s clear she’s after something.” 
He’s having a hard time believing his sister. “Like what?”
“Your money.” 
“Is that all I’m good for?” He asks, baffled. 
“No. That’s why I’m telling you. She’s after one thing.” 
“How would you know?”
“Come on,” Gemma scoffs. “She goes to a prestigious school with a cost that no one could afford. It’s clear she wants you to pay for it.” 
“Gemma, I met her during her last year.”
“Debt doesn’t go away overnight,” she fights back. “She’ll get you to pay off her loans and leave you.”
Harry’s anger is overwhelming him. 
“You don’t even know her. Yet you say bad things about her.” It shuts Gemma up, and he uses that to his advantage and walks away.
“We saw the donation you made,” Gemma comments before he can make it up the stairs. 
He turns back, trying his best to swallow down his anger. “If you would have asked me, you would know it’s for the music program. I did that for several universities if you would have taken the time to do a bit more research. It grants them a scholarship, plus pays for room and board.” 
Gemma has no response. Harry is now standing in front of her and Gemma is nervous. She had never seen her brother this upset. 
“What I do with my money is my problem. If she wanted me to send her money for a new car, I would. If she wanted me to buy her a piece of land, I would do it in a blink of an eye. If Y/N asked me to give her every last dime in my account, I would do it without a second thought because I love her. I love her and she loves me. You know, five minutes is not enough to judge her. I do not have to tell you of her financial issues, but I will so you can go home tonight and sleep knowing how upset I am with you. Y/N received the presidential scholarship covering her tuition for the three years she was there. Y/N has applied to hundreds of scholarships to cover her book fees, and has to take on an unpaid internship while working 40 hours a week to cover her rent. Y/N has not accepted a single dime from me for her school because she has gotten this far without me. Y/N only lets me pay for her seven dollar coffee every other day. Y/N would rather give every last dollar to me if I needed it instead of keeping it for herself. Y/N still sends money to her twin brothers for new shoes, or new backpacks, because she loves her family.” 
Harry is near tears but keeps going. “I love Y/N. You might not, maybe you never will, but that girl has been the best thing to happen to me. I’ve never been more cared for and loved since she entered my life. So please, don’t bother coming back tomorrow or the rest of the week unless you have an apology for her.”
Y/N is grateful Harry’s room connects to the bathroom because, while she finished getting ready, she thought she would ask Harry for a cup of water and instead stumbled upon a conversation she shouldn’t have. Y/N tries her best to swallow her tears, but it’s no use. They’re more powerful than her. They stream down and Y/N decides to lie in bed, hoping by the time Harry comes in, she’s fast asleep. Y/N isn’t sure how much time has passed, but her tears have dried up and she’s as still as a rock when she hears Harry come in. She wants to tell him that she’s not worth defending if it means he’s messing up his relationship with his sister.
She hears him get ready for bed. Y/N knows he’s folding his clothes and placing them on the chair. He’s meticulous about his night-time routine. He crawls into bed next to her. Y/N tries her best to steal her breathing to make it seem like she’s sleeping, but Harry knows her too well. He scoots right behind her, his hand sliding over her hips and settling on her stomach, right by the scar she got on her eight birthday when she fell off her bike. Harry rubs the lifted skin, where she got four stitches. 
Y/N lets out a deep breath, working up the courage to say something, but her throat is closed. She relaxes against him. All her tears dried up. She is beginning to feel better now that she’s with him. A kiss to her temple has her heart slowing down. This is what it is to be protected. 
“I’m sorry,” Y/N croaks out when she feels like enough time has passed. 
Harry pulls her tight against him. It fills her with ease. “How much did you hear?”
Y/N shakes her head. “I don’t want you to argue with your family.” 
“It’s only my sister,” he defends.
“She’s an important person in your life. You’ve always specified that.” 
Harry sighs. He leaves a kiss behind Y/N’s ear. “You are important to me, too.”
“You don’t need to be fighting. It’s not necessary.” 
“It is when she needs a wack to her head.” 
“Harry,” Y/N drags out. “I don’t want you burning bridges.”
Harry understood where she was coming from, but Y/N was not seeing how it affected him as well. “We’ll be fine. She’s my sister. We’ll talk in a few days. All this will be in the past.”
Y/N freezes, feeling as if someone dropped a cold bucket of water on her. If Harry believes everything will be alright with his sister, that means he sees himself forgiving her for what she said but also means he would be getting rid of the problem. Her. 
Harry was going to be breaking up with her. This started her tears to fall again, only this time she couldn’t keep quiet. They were pouring out of her at a quick rate. He was quick to sit up bringing Y/N with him.
“Hey, hey,” Harry cooed. “What happened? What did I do?”
“Y-y-you,” she stuttered. Nothing was coming out. 
He would not rush her. Instead, he shifted her to straddle his lap. Y/N tucked her head into his neck. Hary felt his neck dampen with tears. He pressed soft kisses to her hair, whispering “I love you,” hoping it would be enough to calm her. He snaked a hand under her night shirt softly running his nails up and down her back. Y/N curled in closer at the action. His sweet girl was feeling overwhelmed, and he felt awful because he wasn’t being helpful. 
Y/N pulled away. Her eyes were puffy and tears streaming down her cheeks. Harry still thought she was the most beautiful girl he had ever seen. Her hands moved from her side up to his neck, she settled them on his cheek. She caressed his face, calming him down. He hadn’t realized how overwhelmed he was, but it’s clear Y/N could see what he needed even in her moments of sadness. 
“I don’t want to lose you,” Y/N voiced. “I love you. I love you so much.”
Harry frowned. No one had said anything about him leaving. He would never dream of walking away from her. “I’m not going anywhere.” 
“But Gemma–”
He cuts her off. “Gemma doesn’t know you like I do. She is looking out for me and I know she meant no harm, but she went about all this wrong. She decided to judge us, judge you before getting to know you.”
Y/N did no wrong. She was nothing Gemma accused her of. Y/N knew that, of course she did, but Y/N hoped to impress his family, not make them upset. 
“I know you, Lovie. My mum knows you. Mostly, you know yourself. Your character speaks for you and it has never been anything but kind and loving.”
Harry’s words slowly begin to mend her heart.
“I love you, Harry.” 
He connects his lips with hers in a loving kiss. “I love you so much.” 
Y/N falls asleep to Harry’s voice as he sings her to sleep. It’s a lullaby he says his mum would sing when he had a nightmare. While Y/N didn’t know how tomorrow would go, she was happy to have Harry at her side.
+
The morning passed slowly between the three of them. They shared stories with Anne, Harry, catching her up on his upcoming plans. Y/N talked about her looming graduation and told Anne about her thesis project. Anne promised to make the trip for her graduation, something Harry couldn’t stop gloating about how she was top of her class on her way to graduate summa cum laude. Y/N had stepped outside wanting to enjoy all the open land Anne had. The cats happily roamed around Y/N as she settled in the grass. Y/N thought of her dad at home and what he’d have to say about the situation. He’d probably tell her to run while she could, but Y/N knew Harry was her person. Y/N laid down, closed her eyes and took in all the surrounding noise. She heard birds chirping, a purring in the distance and the rush of the wind hitting the wind chimes. It was perfect. 
There was a loud band that had Y/N sitting up in a hurry. She looked back and realized it was the back door. Anne had stepped out, Y/N could see Harry in the kitchen, hands moving rapidly, and she knew he wasn’t alone. Anne sat not to Y/N, neither of them saying a word. 
“My daughter owes you an apology.” 
“Anne–” 
She stops Y/N. “No, I raised her better than that. I’m not sure when she got so protective, but it’s clearly not for the best. Harry is nearing 30 he doesn’t need his sister looking out for him. While I’m glad they have each other, this was unnecessary. It caused a lot of hurt that should have never existed.” 
“Thank you.”
“You don’t have to talk to her if you’re not comfortable.”
Y/N didn’t know how to feel. She dreaded talking to Gemma, but Y/N knew she’d feel worse if she went home and never talked this out with her. “I’m willing. I-I might need time to forgive her.” 
Anne squeezed Y/N’s hand. “That’s perfectly alright. Now tell me about these brothers of yours.” 
Y/N spent the rest of the evening with Anne, forgetting about her problems. It isn’t until Harry called them both in for dinner that they realized they spent hours outside. 
Harry greeted her with a kiss.
Dinner went off without a hitch, the three of them sharing all kinds of stories. Mostly Harry interrupting Anne to tell her a new story about Y/N he remembered. Harry that night promised he was alright with Gemma. He was feeling hurt. Assured her he loved her, but needed time to move past it. 
Y/N woke up early the next morning and decided to go on a walk along the river. Harry told her it felt never ending. They had walked it once every day, but today she went alone, letting Harry sleep in but also have that extra time with Anne. As Y/N walked, she thought of her brothers and how they would love to be throwing rocks in the river. Y/N was sure one of them would even fall in on accident. The weather would pique her dad’s interest. He was a sunshine man. She was sure the gloomy weather would be too much for him to handle. 
Two hours later, Y/N came back and was taken aback by Gemma’s presence on the front steps of the house, holding a thermal mug. 
“Hi,” Y/N greeted. 
“Morning, nice walk?” Gemma asked. 
Small talk. It was safe. “Mhm, Harry showed me the trail he liked to walk on.” 
“Mmm…coffee?” Gemma offered.
“Uh, I’m okay,” Y/N rejected.
Gemma looked dejected, but continued on. “Do-Is it okay if we talk?”
Y/N nodded. “Sure.” 
Y/N approached Gemma sitting on the opposite end of the same step. She wouldn’t be the first to talk, but it looked like Gemma was figuring out her words. 
“I’m sorry” are Gemma’s first words. “I’m sorry talking about you behind your back, even more sorry that you overheard.” Gemma looks sincere, and Y/N nods for her to continue. “I love Harry. He’s the best brother, and a person in general. He cares so much that I fear he’s gotten screwed over so much in life because he trusts with his heart and not his head.”
Y/N frowns, because that’s one of the things she loves most about Harry. How welcoming he is with his kind nature and how much love he spreads every day whether it’s through his music or holding the door open for a stranger. It all adds up to show that he’s a person full of love.
“Those are his mistakes to make. His own hurt to go through. Life isn’t all sunshine.” Y/N tells her. 
Gemma sighs heavily. “I know. Sometimes I feel like he’s still the same kid who cried when I would go out without him.”
“That hasn’t been him for a long time.” 
“I know.”
It’s clear Gemma has something deeper than she has to figure out and talk with Harry about, but it seems that’s a bridge she’ll cross when she is ready. 
“I love Harry. I think we have a wonderful relationship.” Y/N knows Gemma might not want to hear this, but it is important he does. “Harry loves communication. I swear we’ve never had an argument that didn’t end in us making up. He gives me my space but makes sure to be near. I’m reminded of his love every second of every day, whether he’s with me or not. I’m not sure if I make him feel loved every minute, but I do my best to remind him in my actions and words. I’m big on writing notes. He’s received a few love letters. I’m sure he’d show you if you asked.” Gemma tries her best to hide her surprise, but it’s written all over her face. “I’ve only heard wonderful stories about you, Gemma. I’m sure they’re all true, but I know Harry thought we might become friends.” Y/N pauses. “Even if that doesn’t happen, I do want you to know I respect you. For however long I’m around, I know that I respect you, even if it might take some time for me to trust you.” 
Gemma has tears running down her face. “I’m sorry. I never provided you with an opportunity. I’m not sure why I didn’t. I am really sorry. Meeting the family is always hard, and I fucking ruined it.” 
“It’s not okay, but we’ll give it time. Time heals.” 
“Thank you for hearing me out.” Gemma tells her gratefully. 
Y/N smiles. “Are you joining us for breakfast? Harry promised to make lemon ricotta pancakes.” 
“I’d like that. I’ll head in soon. I want to finish my coffee.” 
Y/N heads inside, where she finds Harry at the stove wearing an apron. She wraps her arms around his waist, resting her head between his shoulder blades. 
“Morning, pretty girl.” 
Gemma looked dejected, but continued on. “Do-Is it okay if we talk?”
Y/N nodded. “Sure.” 
Y/N approached Gemma sitting on the opposite end of the same step. She wouldn’t be the first to talk, but it looked like Gemma was figuring out her words. 
“I’m sorry” are Gemma’s first words. “I’m sorry talking about you behind your back, even more sorry that you overheard.” Gemma looks sincere, and Y/N nods for her to continue. “I love Harry. He’s the best brother, and a person in general. He cares so much that I fear he’s gotten screwed over so much in life because he trusts with his heart and not his head.”
Y/N frowns, because that’s one of the things she loves most about Harry. How welcoming he is with his kind nature and how much love he spreads every day whether it’s through his music or holding the door open for a stranger. It all adds up to show that he’s a person full of love.
“Those are his mistakes to make. His own hurt to go through. Life isn’t all sunshine.” Y/N tells her. 
Gemma sighs heavily. “I know. Sometimes I feel like he’s still the same kid who cried when I would go out without him.”
“That hasn’t been him for a long time.” 
“I know.”
It’s clear Gemma has something deeper than she has to figure out and talk with Harry about, but it seems that’s a bridge she’ll cross when she is ready. 
“I love Harry. I think we have a wonderful relationship.” Y/N knows Gemma might not want to hear this, but it is important he does. “Harry loves communication. I swear we’ve never had an argument that didn’t end in us making up. He gives me my space but makes sure to be near. I’m reminded of his love every second of every day, whether he’s with me or not. I’m not sure if I make him feel loved every minute, but I do my best to remind him in my actions and words. I’m big on writing notes. He’s received a few love letters. I’m sure he’d show you if you asked.” Gemma tries her best to hide her surprise, but it’s written all over her face. “I’ve only heard wonderful stories about you, Gemma. I’m sure they’re all true, but I know Harry thought we might become friends.” Y/N pauses. “Even if that doesn’t happen, I do want you to know I respect you. For however long I’m around, I know that I respect you, even if it might take some time for me to trust you.” 
Gemma has tears running down her face. “I’m sorry. I never provided you with an opportunity. I’m not sure why I didn’t. I am really sorry. Meeting the family is always hard, and I fucking ruined it.” 
“It’s not okay, but we’ll give it time. Time heals.” 
“Thank you for hearing me out.” Gemma tells her gratefully. 
Y/N smiles. “Are you joining us for breakfast? Harry promised to make lemon ricotta pancakes.” 
“I’d like that. I’ll head in soon. I want to finish my coffee.” 
Y/N heads inside, where she finds Harry at the stove wearing an apron. She wraps her arms around his waist, resting her head between his shoulder blades. 
“Morning, pretty girl.” 
“Hi, Harry. I love you.” 
Y/N knows he’s grinning. “I love you too. Even if you left me alone this morning.” 
“I couldn’t sleep,” she defends. “You always told me a morning walk here cleared your head.” 
“And did it?” 
“Mmm…like magic.” 
“Are you okay, Lovie?” Harry turns off the stove. He turns around, setting his hands on Y/N’s waist. His hair makes her laugh as she sees it sticking in different directions. 
“We talked. She apologized. Promise I’m okay. It still hurts, but I’ll try my best to forgive her for you.” 
Harry tuts his tongue. “No, honey.” Y/N tilts her head, confused. “You don’t have to do this for me.” 
“But she’s your–”
“She’s my sister, but that doesn’t mean you have to change how you feel about me. I promise I am with you. She made a mistake, and I’ll forgive her but at my own time. You take your time as well.”
Y/N feels overwhelmed all over again because she really did get lucky with Harry. “I love you so much.”
“I love you more, my love. So much more.” 
Harry gives her a kiss. A promise that everything will be alright.
+
thank you for reading my beautiful friends! let me know your favorite parts
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steveslevis · 24 days
Text
‘tis the damn season
AUTUMN
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chapter contents/warnings: exes to whatever the hell this is, a little bit of smut, angst, weed and alcohol use, mutual pining, steve is an idiot and is afraid of commitment </3, barely proofread (sowwy)
w/c: 5.3k
The first big frost of the season blankets the town of Hawkins when you arrive on Wednesday night, the bits of ice glittering on the orange and brown leaves making the barren streets seem less intimidating as you make your way through your hometown for the first time in months. 
There’s a sense of anticipation and dread that fills your stomach while navigating the streets you know so well, knowing you’re going to be asked the same mundane questions about college in the big city a thousand times over during the next three weeks. You know that’s not the only thing filling you with dread for the weeks to come, but keep telling yourself that’s all you have to worry about — right?
The first evening you arrive in town is jam-packed, since your friends insisted on having a so-called “Friends-giving-mas” as the night that you arrived, due to your anticipated absence on the aforementioned Christmas. You spend a few hours with your mom and dad before leaving, enlisting your mom to help you make some cookies for the party, promising you’d leave her and your dad some behind. 
The clock hits 7 p.m. and you’re finally finished getting ready, having just thrown on a red velvet, long sleeved dress that hit just above your knees and your best black boots, Robin had requested everyone to look their best so she could take photos with her new camera throughout the party. You grabbed your secret santa gift and jacket, checking yourself in the mirror one last time before leaving your room. 
“Alright, I’m leaving.” you call out as you bound down the stairs and into the kitchen.
“Don’t forget your cookies, sweetheart! They’re on the table.” she replied from her place next to your dad on the couch, watching some rom-com while he was dozing beside her, “if you need us to come pick you up, we will.”
You let out a laugh at her remark, knowing that you were only walking to the next house over on the road, so picking you up would be ridiculous. 
“Oh, I think I’ll manage just fine.” you joke in return while grabbing the plate of cookies, “love you guys!”
—————————
The outside of the Harrington’s house is gleefully lit with warm string lights, wreaths already adorning the front windows and main door to the house in anticipation of Christmas in a few weeks. You always admired the way their house looked during the holidays, but knew it was only a cheery facade to hide the dysfunction that lay within the halls of the residence.
You knew the family all too well, having grown up next to Steve your entire life. You were the same age as him, grew up attending all the same parties as him, but ran in completely different circles than him — well, up until your senior year of high school at least. 
Long story short, being best friends with Robin led to you ultimately becoming so-called friends with Steve Harrington as well. The two of you had what you now called a stupid summer fling before you left for Chicago in August, but the rest was history. The two of you had agreed to stay civil and not let the remnants of any unresolved feelings come between your friendship and the rest of the friend group.
So here you were, knocking on Steve Harrington’s front door on a random Wednesday in late November, cookies in hand as you stood there, shivering. You faintly hear Robin say that she would get the door, then hear footsteps pad towards the entrance. 
You’re greeted by your best friend with the strongest hug you swear you’ve ever experienced, and you feel like you might not ever be let go if she has anything to say about it.
“Oh my god! I missed you so much.” Robin exclaims, the widest grin on her face as she grabs for your hand, “everyone’s in here, we’re just waiting on Nance and Jonathan then we’ll be ready to eat but come in! I have so much to tell you about everything you don’t even know—” 
You follow behind her wordlessly, smiling to yourself as she rambles on about college applications and band and Vickie — who just so happened to be in the kitchen helping finish making the mashed potatoes so you had to be quiet — and everything that she can think to fit in a conversation to catch her best friend up on after months without. She leads you to the dining room after dropping off the cookies, where you hear two familiar voices having a very passionate conversation. 
“I’m telling you, man, I’m cursed—“
“You’re not cursed, Harrington. I’m telling you, you’re just looking in the wrong place for love.” Eddie retorts to his frustrated friend, rolling his eyes at him.
“Oh yeah? And where should I be looking?” Steve snorts, haphazardly tossing forks, knives and spoons atop the napkin at each seat of the table.
“I’ve been saying ever since what happened this summer, you should be going after — oh shit, Y/N!” Eddie interjects, cutting himself off when you trail in behind Robin.
The metalhead pulls you in for a bear hug, whispering in your ear about how he promises not to ask you boring questions about college like everyone else. As you’re being engulfed in his embrace, you hear the sound of silverware tumbling to the ground from the other side of the table, followed by a string of mumbled curse words from the dropper.
You pull away from Eddie’s hug to look at where the noise is coming from, only to see Steve fumbling with a fork and spoon while trying to stand up from where he was just kneeling. Your gaze lingers on him for a moment too long, taking in everything about him that you told yourself you didn’t miss. Eddie gives you a knowing look and you roll your eyes, knowing that he’s trying to tell you to not make things weird, so you try your best.
“Stevie, how are you?” you call to him while walking around the table, putting on the best oblivious and excited face that you can.
“H-Hey, Y/N.” Steve says, feigning coolness as he pulls you in for a quick hug, nearly stumbling over his words when you use the nickname you always loved to tease him with, “I didn’t know you were coming tonight.” 
His eyes flicker over to Robin momentarily, who shoots him a guilty grin before mouthing ‘sorry’ over your shoulder.
“Yeah, it was kinda last minute on my part, I just so happened to be coming home tonight since my finals were all at the beginning of the week. I kinda forced Rob to tell me when it would be so I could crash it,” you lie, trying to throw the blame on yourself instead of her, “sorry if I messed anything up, I-I’ll lay low and won’t eat if that messes up numbers or something—“
“No!” Steve rushes to retort, shaking his head at you adamantly, “I mean, shit—sorry. No, you’re not messing anything up at all, you know you’re always welcome here.” 
The smile on Steve’s face is genuine as he speaks, but there’s a glint of sadness in his eyes while he scans yours for any sign of hesitancy. You give him a small smile in return, quickly moving your gaze from his to push down that sinking feeling in your chest you know is coming. Your chest aches as you focus your eyes downward, realizing that this night would be a lot harder than you had convinced yourself that it would be. 
“Well!” Robin interjects, interrupting the growing awkward silence filling the air of the dining room where you stood. She reached for your hand while smiling over at you sympathetically, beginning to drag you towards the kitchen as she spoke, “gotta go say hello to everyone else before dinner!”
Your best friend whirled you around to the rest of the guests–which was just Nancy, Jonathan, and Vickie–who were all in the kitchen putting the finishing touches on the meal. 
A slew of awkward questions about Chicago ensued in the moments leading up to and during dinner, but you took them in stride as they distracted you from the bright eyed boy across the table who kept sneaking glances in your direction any chance he got. You explained your major, what you did for work outside of class time, and talked about all the new friends you met in the short few months you’d been gone. You could’ve sworn Steve’s jaw clenched at the mention of a date you went on prior to leaving for break, but you didn’t put too much thought into it. 
Dinner goes by fairly quickly, and then it’s time for Secret Santa gifts in the living room. Robin begged everyone to participate, and even went through the effort of making sure you and Steve didn’t get each other, partly to not ruin the surprise of you being here and partly to diminish any awkwardness that might arise from it. 
You had drawn Jonathan’s name, so you gifted him a few rolls of different camera film. Each person had to guess who their Secret Santa was, but apparently your gift was pretty obvious since he hadn’t been able to find any film like it anywhere near Hawkins, so he guessed you first. 
Your turn rolled around and a small red gift bag was sat in your lap. You immediately knew who your gift was from, halfway from the grin plastered on his face and halfway from the smell lingering from inside the back in your hands. 
“Thank you, Eddie.” you giggle out while pulling out four perfectly rolled blunts from the gift bag, courtesy of the best dealer in Hawkins.
“It’s always a pleasure,” he jabs back, “we can fire one up after presents if you’d like.” 
You nod quickly at him, grinning widely before turning back to the circle where Robin was handing out gifts.
—————————
It’s not long before drinks are flowing and laughter is spilling through the Harrington residence, something that’s happened very few times within those halls. The night seems to go by too quickly, you notice how quickly when you check and it says 11 P.M. already, even though it feels like you’ve only been there a few hours. You’re sitting on the couch with Robin and Vickie, giggling their way through a story about some guy in the Hawkins band, when the sight of the back door sliding open and closed catches your eye. 
You turn your gaze to see Steve stalking into the cold on his own, head turned down as he walks towards one of the ice-slicked pool chairs on the deck. A frown passes over your face as you furrow your brows, excusing yourself from the couple on the couch as you slip outside to follow him with your bottle of wine, one of your newly gifted blunts and a lighter in hand. 
It’s the last thing you should be doing tonight, really. You shouldn’t be following Steve Harrington – the man who was too afraid to say he loved you and too afraid to commit to you – onto the porch. You should’ve stayed inside and drank some more wine with the rest of them and let yourself cut loose for once, but you just couldn’t do it. You just had to talk to him – you weren’t so sure what you wanted to talk about, but you just felt the need to.
“You alright?” was all you could slip out as you closed the sliding glass door, watching the brown haired boy from afar, making sure you weren’t making the wrong decision.
“Yeah–Yeah, just needed a little bit of fresh air.” Steve stammered, eyes widening for only a moment when he notices that it’s you that followed him outside.  
You only hum in response, stepping closer to him as you sense no annoyance or anger in his voice, finding a spot on the chilled pool chair next to his. After setting down the bottle of wine you’d been nursing throughout the night, you took the blunt you’d brought as a peace offering between your fingers and waved it in front of his face.
Steve looked up for a moment, gaze shifting between the blunt between your fingers and your lips that curled up into a mischievous yet friendly smirk. His own lips perked up in a lopsided smile, raising an eyebrow at you when you brought the blunt to your lips, followed by the lighter.
“Would you like to partake?” you joke while puffing smoke through your lips, mixing with the cold puffs of breath coming from Steve’s. 
“I’ll never say no to that,” he retorts, reaching to grab the blunt from your fingers. 
There’s a breath of comfortable silence between the two of you as he inhales, then lets out a long exhale before focusing his gaze back onto the pool in front of him, onto the ice forming on the pool cover as a way to avoid your eyes. 
“So, how’s the Stevie Harrington been faring since I’ve been gone?” you joked after a moment more of the quiet, shoving any nerves down that were threatening to force you to run back inside. 
Awful, utterly dull and extremely depressing, was what Steve wanted to say. 
He wanted to tell you how he fucked up so badly, how he hasn’t been the same since the last time he saw you, how he hasn’t even been able to look at anyone without thinking of you. He wanted to grab you by the cheeks and pull you in for a kiss and never let go. He wanted to scream and tell you how much he regretted ever letting you leave without knowing how he really felt, but he couldn’t now. It was too late, so he just said; “Oh, y’know. I’ve been fine. Just the same shit, different day.”
Steve wanted to kick himself for saying something so lame, something so uninteresting when the most interesting person in the world was sitting right in front of him. 
“Does ‘same shit, different day’ just mean you’re stuck being the same old chauffeur-babysitter you’ve been for the last two years?” you tease, reaching down to grab the bottle of wine at your feet. 
“Yeah, I guess you could say that.” Steve chuckled, giving you a warm smile as he took another puff. 
It only took a few moments to finally break the ice between the two of you, then things fell right back into place, right back into a comfortable normalcy. There was something that put you so at ease being outside with him, being able to talk to him without the looming thought of who would be the first to say “I love you” or who would be the first to leave waving over both of your heads. 
The next hour went by in a breeze, and it seemed the party inside died down by the time the two of you decided to walk back in. Steve closed the sliding glass door behind you two and you noticed only Eddie and Robin were left standing in the living room. Vickie was presumably in the guest bed, where Robin was about to head to. Jonathan and Nancy had left twenty minutes prior, only popping their heads out to say a quick goodbye before driving off.
Robin said a quick goodnight to you before heading up the stairs, along with a promise to see you tomorrow for a girl’s day. Then, it was just you, Eddie and Steve in the living room, Eddie at the couch setting up his bed for the night while the two of you stood in silence by the sliding glass door still. 
“I–I guess I should probably head home for the night,” you say, breaking the silence between the three of you as you start towards your bag and coat on the other side of the room.
“Why don’t you just stay?” Steve interjects a little too loudly, the weed and wine in his system instilling some false confidence in him. “It’s so cold out and I’m sure at this point your parents already think you’re staying anyways.”
You stop on your toes at Steve’s voice, cheeks heating at how interested he sounded in you staying there for the night. It’s not like it was a far and dangerous walk, Steve just wanted an excuse to be around you for longer. You turn around to look at him, then to Eddie, who was giving you a tired smile.
“We can have a sleepover on the couch,” Eddie chuckles, reaching for one of the pillows he was setting out for himself to move it to the other side of the couch for you. 
“I don’t have any clothes,” you suggest, looking down at your velvet dress that would be extremely uncomfortable to sleep in. 
“Oh, I’m sure Stevie has some clothes that you can sleep in!” Eddie says, shooting a smirk in his direction.
“O–Of course I do, I’m sure I still have your favorite pajama pants up there if you want them.” Steve says hurriedly, as if you would change your mind if he didn’t answer quickly enough.
You give the two of them a smile, pretending to contemplate the decision for a moment before nodding. You could’ve sworn you heard Steve let out a breath of relief at your nod, but he turned towards the stairs before you could acknowledge it. Without a word, you follow right behind him up the stairs, slowly realizing the effects of the cherry wine and weed are coming to the surface. 
Steve steps into his bedroom and you follow behind him, a situation the two of you knew all too well. 
—————————
You don’t know what led to this, but there you were, in Steve’s bedroom, him towering over your space on his bed as he pulled you in for a heated kiss. Tongue against teeth, hands against cheeks, legs tangled together, just like they were meant to be. 
This wasn’t supposed to happen, you swore to yourself you wouldn’t come crawling back every time you were in town, but here you were. 
Somehow coming upstairs for a stupid pair of pajamas led to Steve giving you that look of lust and utter desire, led to you becoming a willing participant in his games once again after swearing you would never touch him again, led to you letting him sneak his way into your heart – and pants – yet again. 
Your head is spinning as he kisses you, his lips slotted into yours like they belonged there, a perfect fit. You’re unsure if it’s the wine, the weed or the sheer yearning that’s making you feel like this, but you don’t want it to stop any time soon. 
There’s a gnawing feeling in your stomach when Steve props his knee up on the bed next to your hip, you know you should stop before he gets any further, but the ache between your thighs is outweighing any thought of what would come after he spreads you open. 
Steve groans into your mouth when you pull him closer, fingers intertwining with and tugging the hair at the nape of his neck, and you only smirked against his lips in satisfaction. You knew everything about the boy who was turning to a puddle just from the touch of your fingers. You knew exactly how to make him tick, and him the same for you.
“Fuck,” Steve breathes when he finally pulls away from you, full lips parted as he stares down at you. There’s a twinkle in his eye that you haven’t seen in so long, one you used to mistake for love but now only know to be pure lust. “I–I’m sorry I just, I need–I need you.”
You stare at the desperate, doe-eyed man in front of you for a long moment, mind wandering to a place of fear as you think about what you’re about to do. 
Instead of saying anything in reply, you close the space between the two of you once again, smashing your lips into his in a feverish and bruising kiss. Steve is on you in an instant, gently pushing you back and up on the bed, letting your head fall on his pillows. You can tell by the way he stumbles on his way up to you that he’s intoxicated — on the weed or the wine, or you, you’re not sure — but you soon realize that you are too.
A hand wanders toward the hem of Steve’s sweater, tugging at it quickly as he pulls away from the bruising kiss. He wastes no time in pulling the cable-knit up and over his head, tossing it to the side while sitting up on his knees to take you the sight of you in. Your skin was hot and your eyes were blown with lust, cheeks flushed and lips parted as you stared up at him.
You’d only been under him for a minute and had completely folded to his touch. You cursed yourself for letting your inhibitions crumble so quickly, but another part of you didn’t actually care, the same part of you that wanted to claim him as yours forever. 
Steve’s eyes trailed over you, from your cheeks to the low neckline of your dress, over the curve of your hips, ending on your thighs spread on either side of his knees. The crushed velvet of your skirt bunched where your leg met your hip, letting the fabric ride up enough for Steve to see exactly what he was searching for. 
He sucked in a breath at the sight of your white lace underwear beneath, having to hold himself back from diving in right that second.
“You’re so beautiful,” he groaned, hands tracing over your hip bones while lowering his lips to yours once again.
A moan falls from your lips as his meet yours, his knee coming up between your thighs, creating friction against your core.
“Fuck—Stevie,” you say, choking back a pitiful whine while grinding against his thigh desperately, “please, I need you.”
You swear you hear Steve nearly choke at your words, three words he’d been dying to hear from you for months. 
“I know, I know, baby.” he coos at you, trying to keep his cool as he strains against his pants, “I’ll take care of you.”
You nod feverishly as he leans down to pepper kisses along your neck, taking his sweet time while trying not to get drunk off the scent of you.
“This—This doesn’t mean anyth—this doesn’t change anything,” he stammers between kisses, peering up at you as he speaks, “we can still stay close—keep being friends after this.”
You hum in agreement, ignoring the dread building in your gut as you do. You want to be more than friends, you want to scream at him until he admits that he loves you too. But he nearly said it doesn’t mean anything, so you’re convinced he wants nothing to do with you after tonight, nothing but a friend to laugh with and a pretty face to fuck on every break from college. 
You push the thoughts from your mind, focusing on the boy in front of you as his hands begin to massage your inner thighs, inching closer and closer to your core with every circle. Steve chuckles lowly as you let out a whine of anticipation, teasing you silently as he gives in to your desires.
Steve knows your body like he knows his own, so what comes after pulling off your dress is nearly second nature to him. One large hand trails to the waistband of your underwear while the other reaches for your breast, nipple peaked from the exposure to the cold air conditioning. You moan in surprise when he wastes no time in putting his mouth to work on your other nipple, tugging your underwear down your legs simultaneously. 
His fingers immediately fall to your core once you’re free of the underwear, fingertips circling the bundle of nerves at the top as you let out another whimper. 
His moves are careful but quick, he knows you want to waste no more time, and you’ll whine about his teasing if he doesn’t act soon. 
He’s out of his boxers in an instant, one hand keeping contact with your clit as he situates himself above you.
“You look so good like this, sweetheart.” Steve says, voice low as his eyes raked over your body, “so pretty spread out for me, all fucked out for me even though I’ve barely touched you.”
“Stevie…” you whimper, reaching a hand up to him, but he pulls from your reach with a smirk across his face.
“Tell me what you want from me,” he says, leaning down to press a kiss to your cheek as he lines himself up with your slick, teasing the tip against you slowly.
“I—I need you, Steve.” you beg, cheeks flushing at the admittance, “I need you to fuck me, please.”
“Well, since you asked so nicely.” he retorts with a smirk, sliding into you with ease.
You both let out a low moan as he bottoms out, filling you in a way you haven’t felt in a long time. You forgot how thick he was in the time you’d been gone, your body wasn’t used to the stretch of his cock inside you, but it still felt like he was meant to be there. Like he was the only one who could make you feel this way.
And you were right, nobody could make you feel that way. Nobody else could touch you and make you fall apart in less than five minutes like he could. Nobody else could get you so riled up over a few praises thrown in with some condescension (which you embarrassingly loved too much) like he could. Nobody could hold off from cumming long enough to give you three orgasms before getting one of their own like he could. 
Nobody did it like he could.
This doesn’t mean anything you repeat in your mind, clinging to his arm like your life depended on it after the two of you calmed your breathing and cleaned up. You weren’t sure if you were repeating those words to convince yourself or to ease your own mind about what just went down, but you knew they stung your heart more than any fighting words the two of you had ever exchanged.
“I missed this, cuddling with you, holdin’ you like this.” was all he slurred out against your hair, pressing a sleepy kiss into the crown of your head.
“Yeah, me too.” you mumble in return, accepting the warmth of his embrace as sleep finally took you in, ignoring the gnawing pain growing in your chest.
—————————
The spice of Steve’s cologne mixes with the familiar scent of his room, filling your senses when you wake, nearly sending you into a panic. You sit upright in the bed, turning to face the boy you claimed you wanted nothing to do with romantically just a few hours ago. Steve is sleeping peacefully next to you, plush lips parted and brows furrowed as he subconsciously pouts about the loss of your touch. The alarm clock behind him read 2:03 A.M., meaning you hadn’t been out for too long, but long enough to sober you up somehow. 
Shit. Shit. Shit. I gotta get out of here. Is all you can think as you stumble out from under the comforter, knowing you would never live it down if anyone found you’d slept in his bed, especially with your limbs entangled like they just were. You quickly dress in the clothes you’d originally come into the bedroom to fetch, and snuck out of the bedroom without a sound. 
Before making it to the living room, you turned toward the dimly lit kitchen for a glass of water. What you weren’t expecting to be faced with in the kitchen was Eddie, but there he was, leaning against the counter with disheveled hair that probably mirrored your own. 
“What a night so far, huh?” he jokes as you shoot him a knowing glare while trudging across the tiled floor. 
“Don’t even start with me, Munson.” you warn, absentmindedly reaching your hand up to the cabinet for a glass while shaking your head.
“Woah, don’t get that attitude with me! I didn’t say anything,” he laughs, setting his own glass into the sink, “but that also doesn’t mean I didn’t hear anything.”
“You did not,” you snap back, eyes wide and cheeks flushed with embarrassment as he gives you a shit-eating grin, “there’s no way you heard anything because nothing happened.”
“You’ve always been such a bad liar, Y/N.” Eddie laughs, stepping out of the kitchen to walk towards the living room where the two of you would be sleeping. 
A sigh escapes your lips when Eddie leaves, letting you be alone with your thoughts finally. There was an ache in your chest that wasn’t going away any time soon, and it was in that moment that you wondered if you would ever be able to get over Steve Harrington, or if you would be in a continuous cycle of hurt and comfort for the rest of your damned life.
You collected your thoughts as you downed a glass of water, throwing back two ibuprofens with the last chug for good measure, before finding your way back to the living room. Eddie was on his side on the long side of the L-shaped couch, leaving the shorter side for you to sleep on. His eyes were closed as you laid down with your feet next to his own, but you knew he wasn’t asleep yet. 
“I won’t tell anyone, I promise.” you heard through the darkness after turning off the table lamp once you were settled.
“I know.” you sigh in return, staring up at the ceiling that was only lit by the streetlights flowing in from outside. “I just don’t want to live like this forever, I–I can’t keep being the secret that Steve is too embarrassed to talk about.”
“He’s not embarrassed of you,” Eddie said, voice barely above a whisper, just loud enough for you to hear, “he’s just afraid of fucking everything up even more than he already has.”
If only he could say that to my face, then maybe I’d believe it, you thought to yourself, chest tightening at just the thought of the brown-eyed boy who was fast asleep upstairs. 
You don’t reply to Eddie, unsure of what to say back, unsure of what you could squeak out without breaking down. 
“Goodnight, Eds,” is all you say in return, though you know you won’t be getting any sleep. 
“Goodnight, Y/N.”
—————————
After falling asleep for all of fifty minutes around 5 in the morning, you decided you had to leave. 
The entirety of the almost four hours you laid on Steve’s couch consisted of staring at the ceiling and fighting off tears while thinking about how you regretted everything you said and did over the last twelve hours. 
Coming to the Harrington house was a mistake, even stepping foot back in Hawkins was feeling like a mistake at this point. 
The only words repeating in your mind were This doesn’t mean anything. This doesn’t mean anything. This doesn’t mean anything.
You eventually had enough of the self-loathing and inability to sleep, so it was time to go. It was time to hastily change out of the pajamas that smelled too much like the boy you loved too hard, and time to go collapse in your own bed. There was no telling if you’d actually fall asleep once you made it there, but that was beside the point.
It was when you finally made it back to your parent’s house, to your childhood bedroom, that you swore that you wouldn’t see Steve Harrington again for the rest of Thanksgiving break, and hopefully would avoid seeing him again for a long while, for the sake of saving yourself from another heartbreak.
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tags: @carinacassiopeiae
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virgosimagination · 1 year
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Things I Have Manifested Using the Law of Assumption
Desired face. I wanted to look like a mixture of Dua Lipa and Bella Hadid. This was my first "major" manifestation, and it took me about two months. At first, I affirmed and persisted, but I was doing so from a state of lack. Once I switched to embodying the state where I had my desired face, it manifested in a little over a week. Before I fell asleep at night, I would imagine myself waking up and looking in the mirror to see my desired face. I would do this a few times in order to feel the wish fulfilled, and then I would allow myself to daydream about other things until I fell asleep.
Desired body. After I manifested my desired face, I wanted my desired body to go along with it. I wanted to be 5'11 with long legs, about 10 lbs. lighter, and smaller breasts. I basically wanted a supermodel's body. I embodied the state of having my desired body for a few days, and then woke up one day about five inches taller. I kept banging my head on things! Lol
My desired apartment. I really wanted to move out of my parent's house. This one was a bit harder for me, because I was faced with reminders regularly that I didn't live on my own. It was hard for me to ignore my 3D fully at first. I was able to ignore some parts of my 3D, but other parts were harder. After meditating on it one night, I realized what I was "doing wrong" was that I wasn't fully living in my 4D, as I was allowing myself to be distracted by negative aspects of living with my family. Finally, I remembered Neville's story of when he manifested getting honorably discharged from the military. He said that night, he fell asleep imagining that he was in his bed back home. I did this for three nights: I imagined, when I was falling asleep at night, that I was in my new bed in my new apartment. I felt the cold air (my parents kept the heat high), I heard the city noises outside of my window. On the fourth morning, I woke up in my desired apartment.
My SP. My SP was a guy who was in one of my classes at university. We had never talked before, but we sat a few seats from one another in class. I embodied the state of being in a relationship with him. I stopped embodying the state of being single, the state of having a crush, and the state of being lonely. Every night, I imagined him falling asleep in bed next to me. It took me three days of embodying my new state for him to ask for my number. We went on a date and it went swimmingly. We have now been officially together for four months. We just spent a lovely Valentine's Day together!
These are my "biggest" manifestations. I got them all by applying states. My biggest tip is for to ignore your 3D, because as long as you are focused on having your desire already in your 4D, it has no choice but to manifest. Everything comes from imagination!
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