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#putting my life on hold for another whim-without-a-warning

athanasius-symposium-of-writings · 3 months

Text

Heartbeat

This header is from this post i havent stopped staring at by @/askmatthias (pls check him out omg omg omg it so good pls you gotta look at it gives me life actively)

In honor of Matthias coming home (in five days) and me begging for his s tier skin -hands you a fic- bby pls come home i need you in need you

Rated Explicit | Warning: vampirism

The clashing of swords drew his attention innocently, when it was quiet he did not know the scene would change to see you putting back on your shirt and the Lord of the Desaulnier manor fixing his hair.

“Your lamb is here.” The man is shirtless and holding a foil-fencing sword in each hand. Matthias never directly interacted with the mysterious noble but almost everyone says he is a cold standoff individual, Aesop though never spoke ill of him.

“At least pretend to be a gracious host, Joseph!” Snapping at him while he puts the foil-fencing swords back on the sword racks. The click of the vampire lord's tongue is loud. He is intimidating, beautiful as a woman but graceful as a man, Matthias stares then stops the second the other notices.

“Be sure to do what we talked about, (Name).” His hand is on your lower back and his lips are on your shoulder as he pulls back your shirt. It is personal, and though you are intimate with most of those who live in this manor, what he sees is some more to it.

From what you told him about vampires by nature are creatures who bend to the whims of desire, a beast that hungers endlessly. Some can control it while others become enslaved by it.

“Yes, monsieur.” You turn your head as he places two more kisses before slipping away. “Good night.” It is strange hearing you speak with a much more gentle tone. You are gentle, especially with Emil, Andrew, and Aesop. You can be kind, you can be firm, and you adjust to the needs of the individual.

“Evening.” Lord Desaulnier says before turning around and heading towards the door the puppeteer stands in front of.

Matthias moves aside not wishing to touch him unintentionally, his eye glancing and catching the cold glance of piercing red eyes. That made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.

The door is closed behind him and now you are alone with the vampire fledgling.

“Don't mind him,” Speaking up when alone with the new arrival, “He is the same way with Emil too.” Emil is the man who is always lingering in your shadow. One might say shy but Matthias believes he is cautious. The only man to sleep in your room, and honestly sleep there.

“I see.” His gaze is elsewhere as you finish dressing, “Training this late?”

“Joseph needed to clear his mind for a bit,” You turn around now once more wearing your shirt, “You're up late. Can't sleep?”

Matthias shakes his head, “... I got hungry.” Though he ate a few hours ago, his gut still ached for more.

“Alright,” Taking his hand, “Let's go to your room.”

“Wait, why my room?” He was going to head to the kitchen.

“To feed, unless you want to bite me here?” Titling your head to the side slightly curiously.

“No,” Clearing his throat, “No, I mean… Are you sure?” It has been some time since he fed on you, he still fears he may hurt you.

“Of course. You need a direct source before you can solely use the blood vials and blood wine.”

You learned during your time with Joseph that there are ways to satisfy the beast of hunger. Solid foods like red meats from animals help maintain and hold weight. Bloodwine to calm the body. Blood vials to store and immediately drink if one is not feeding on enough blood— However, blood in storage can clot over time.

Direct blood drinking though has its uses but rarely is anyone willing like you, and rarely do most vampires know how to drink enough without killing anyone.

"Come on, the sooner you feed the less likely you will hurt me.”

The puppet named Louis is in another room locked in a case. This is done by Matthias Czernin's specifications, yet, he still checks the locks on the door. The door is across from his room and sandwiched between Edgar's room and Frederick's room. Both are pure-blood vampires who were given invitations by Joseph.

Matthias rarely sees his neighbors, thankfully. You did that purposely so he does not feel like he must interact with everyone immediately.

You wish he would personalize his room… A bed, a workbench for his puppeteering equipment, and a wardrobe. Nothing more.

“(Name).” Having you sit on the bed with your back to him, “Can you… May you lower your shirt?”

You lower it until it rests on your forearms, and you lean your head to the side exposing your neck. His hands are restless, unsure of what to do. “Hold my shoulders to keep me steady.” He holds you, gentle at first but he grips harder when his fangs latch onto your neck.

The sting from fangs piercing skin is not something you can grow used to, it hurts a tad less but the pain is still there. But the pain never lingers as pain turns to pleasure, your body swaying as he drinks from you. You know your limits and the more he feeds the closer you are to reaching it.

“Matthias,” A groan from him as his arms wrapped around you keeping you in place, “Matthias, enough.” You might have to stop him and your hand reaches behind you to touch his face.

This makes him stop feeding, his mouth off your skin, tongue licking the residue of blood seeping out of the bitemark.

“You did good.” Praising him as you turn around when his arms let go of you, “Feeling better?”

A nod, he looks away, “You should put your shirt back on.” If he can blush then he has enough blood in his system.

“It's just my chest.” Teasing him, “You have seen me naked before.”

Once! By mistake because Naib Subedar and Norton are too daring for their own good!

“Do you not want to look at me?”

“I do.” A desperate tone, “But…”

“But?”

“More.” He tries to find the words, “I would want more.” His hands on his lap gripping the fabric of his pants.

You fully turn and take his hand placing it on your chest, the center where he can feel your steady heartbeat. You push forward against it until you are close enough to smell your blood on his lips.

“(Name).” Do not tease him, please do not be cruel.

“Matthias.”

The bed creaks with movement, the shared uneven breathing, the moans and groans of pleasure. The room for the first time seems more lively than it has in months.

You move your hips, rocking them forward and back, grinding slowly on his lap. There is no rush, you want him to experience this slow and steady for right now. You hold onto his back, his hands holding your thighs from underneath. His mouth meshed with yours, the puppeteer cannot get enough of kissing you.

He is not the best kisser as he has no experience in this but he learns along the way by copying your movements. Everywhere you touch it is like his body cannot help yearning for more, the voices for once are silent, and gazing up at you is like looking upon a god.

You would never take such a compliment, you never believe yourself above others whether physically or mentally. Everyone is an equal and you give only what others give you.

He wishes you would not. Wish you had met him first… Saved him. Though he knows it took a lot to get you to this current gentle state. The violence he heard Aesop was the first, he spoke only once about the large photograph of you in one of the rooms in the manor. The you who knew only blood and steel, a far cry to the person he has in bed with him.

When you both are exhausted, laying on the bed covered in the thin coat of sweat with his cum inside of you and you cum on his all over his now cock. His hand is on his chest, there is no heartbeat but he swears he can feel it racing. His eyes close as you pet his messy hair, his head on your chest with his ear above your racing heart.

You speak to him, asking him if he is okay or if he needs anything.

“You,” Clinging to you, “Can you stay?” Emil is probably going to be in a bad mood tomorrow when he wakes up to you not beside him. For some reason that makes Matthias happy.

“Yes, I can.” Smiling sheepishly, “As long as you want.”

#idv #reader insert #identity v x reader #idv x reader #identity v #identity v x you #matthias czernin #matthais czernin x you #matthias czernin x reader #puppeteer x you #puppeteer x reader #identity v puppeteer #idv matthias

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slayfics · 8 months

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Okay, a sudden idea just popped up in my head. You can write this anytime you want or you can just ignore it but if your interested in writing, how about reader who is on the verge of death, gets saved by muichiro ? How would he react ? Or what would he do in a situation like that ? Your fanfics are what motivates me as a writer !! I literally became on because I wanted to be like you 😭❤️

Muichiro saves you.

Warnings: blood

This was by far the most challenging demon you had ever fought. You were struggling to keep up with its moves, and multiple times you had brought your blade down on its neck only to be unable to slash it.

Think- You thought to yourself. What would Muichiro do?

You suddenly had an idea come to mind. The final Mist Breathing form Seventh Form: Obscuring Clouds. It was a dangerous idea, you had only managed to use it properly once. The move focused on confusing the demon on your position then when you finally do go in for the strike you are extremely slow.

It was risky- if you didn't do it right you'd for sure be dead. But you had to try something you were losing stamina fast and wouldn't be able to do anything else soon.

On a whim, you attempted the Seven Form giving it everything you got. You spun around the demon which worked to confuse it. Seeing your opening you finally went in for the strike. The demon being taken off guard had barely any time to react, but still, it was not enough.

As your blade finally came down slicing the demon's head off, the demon at the same time went to strike you, hitting a vital organ. The demon's head fell to the floor disintegrating at once, and you fell down next to it.

Shit- I'm going to die, you realized. It wouldn't be long before you'd bleed out from your injury. Using the strength you had left you focused your breathing on slowing the bleeding. If you could hold out long enough, maybe just maybe another corps member would find you.

It didn't take long before in the distance you heard someone approaching. You felt your heart skip a beat at your good fortune. Much longer and you would have not made it. I hope this is an experienced corps member you thought, just as you were met with the sight of Muichiro looking down at you.

His eyes instantly widened in alarm at the state you were in and he dropped to the floor next to you.

"Keep focusing on your breathing," He instructed as he ripped off one of his sleeves and tied it around your injury to put pressure.

As grateful as you were that Muichiro had found you, you couldn't help but feel embarrassed that you had been so badly injured by not even an upper-rank demon.

"I'm sorry tok-," You began to say but Muichiro brought a finger to your lips shushing you.

"Do not apologize, you risked your life to slay a demon. That is what any Hashira would have done."

You felt a smile spread on your lips at his praises but slowly your vision began to blur.

"Keep focusing on your breathing, and I'll get you to the butterfly mansion as soon as possible," he said, gently grabbing you into his arms. Upon picking you up in his arms Muichiro realized how bad off you were. You didn't even have the strength to hold your head up or wrap your arms around him for support.

Muichiro carefully placed the weight of your head against his chest and his arm, keeping your head upright to avoid any choking. Once he felt comfortable with how secure you were, he took off in the direction of the butterfly mansion.

"Alert Miss Kocho we are coming," He said to his crow who swiftly flew ahead.

Muichiro continued to make his way as fast as he could without disturbing you in your arms. Even with his swift pace you were beginning to lose consciousness and started to come to terms with possibly dying.

"Tokito-" You called in barely above a whisper.

"Hm?" He glanced at you then back up, continuing to run.

"I- I'm glad it's you here with me- if this is my last-"

"No!" He yelled. "We still have so much to do together, do not even begin to say such things!" Tears swelled up in his eyes. "Just keep focusing on your breathing, save all your strength for that! We're almost there!" He looked down at you once more seeing the sleeve he had tied around you was now soaked through as was his own uniform where he was holding you. Yet your soft breathing continued, you followed his orders and did not give up just yet.

Finally passing through the gates of the Butterfly Mansion, Shinobu was ready and waiting. Instantly taking you to bed and getting to work attending to your wound.

"She'll be alright?" Muichiro asked, voice shaking.

"I'm going to try my best, it's a wonder she survived this long," Shinobu answered.

Thank you for the request Kye! You’re too sweet ahhh! You’re doing amazing with your own fics keep it up! For anyone that hasn’t check out @sleepykye fics! Her work is so unique and adorable~

Tags~

@aeolia18 @yandere-kou @sakurasunkiss @hashiroses @plvuii @snowmist-hashira

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turbulentscrawl · 3 months

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Could I get an Aesop, Norton and Kevin with a S/O who gets turned into a hunter because they learned too much? Like. Their Significant other was always very enthusiastic about discovering secrets and stuff, and they started acting off because they discovered something BAD. And within a month or so. They moved officially to the hunter manor? 🙏

If that's too much, feel free to ignore or decline!

I put my own spin on this, i hope you don't mind! This is SFW but going under the cut because it plays into the horror aspect of the game. Also, I don't have the time to whip up a kevin header currently and don't have the patience to wait on posting this....so I'll get his made and added later!

Warnings: body horror, angst

The worst part of it all is that you can’t even remember the reason for it all.

You were a seeker, a searcher, always nosing into places and subjects you didn’t belong. You craved to know the world’s secrets and that included the manor’s. You spent long hours, days, weeks, investigating the manor’s records, the histories of its inhabitants, obtaining the aid of…some horrific woman. A veritable snake. She told you something. Something bad…. Something that ruined you from the inside out, necrosing its way through every cell.

The changes come slowly at first, and painfully. Your muscles and joints would ache. Your head would throb. Your bones would move on their own, shifting and stretching inside your tearing meat. You drowned in darkness, and suffocated in blinding lights. The worst moments of your life came to you again! Again! Again! Again! Again! Again! Again! Again! Again!

And when all the pain finally melted away, you were different. The friendly faces around you were once your enemies. Your own face was that of a lion, and the original of it staring back was the clueless lamb.

Aesop

-He showed little interest in your “search for answers.” He wants to understand everything better too, true, but even the detective sorts among you had found few answers. Orpheus, Alice, Naib…. No offense to you, of course, I’m just saying he wasn’t be holding his breath….

-But far be it from this recluse to stop you. He of all people understands what it means to hyperfocus on your work. Work is familiarity, truth, and on some level he can imagine how a tangled mystery might be as comfortable to you as a corpse is to him. They both reveal truths in indirect ways.

-Because of your busybody separation from one another during this time, he likely doesn’t notice the changes right away. He probably finds out from someone else about the aches and pains you’ve been having, the sweats, fever, and all without a match in the records to explain them away. People didn’t get sick in the manor, yet somehow you inexplicably were.

-Then you sleep. For days. You’re still enough that Aesop almost feels like he’s watching over one of his 'normal' patients, like he should be doing your makeup. He’s calm, but checks for your pulse and breathing a lot. That’s when he notices you crying in your sleep.

-And things only go downhill from there. Aesop is generally level-headed, but there’s something about your aura that begins to disturb him. He refuses to leave, to abandon you when something is obviously wrong, but you go more and more still under his watchful eyes. You stop breathing, your skin goes pallid, but blood is still hot in your veins—he gives your thumb a pinprick to be sure of it. Your pillow is always wet because you won’t stop silently crying.

-On a whim one day, he decides to check your eyes. He collapses to the ground when he realizes the sockets are empty and raw. He runs from your room then, and when Emily returns to investigate your body is gone.

-The next day, you return in perfect condition. Healthy, though confused, and with no memory of that last several weeks of pain. You both had a match the next day, and Aesop decided he would focus on protecting you above anything else.

-But the Hunter was new. Eerie, unspeaking, blind…and cried ceaselessly. Aesop was frozen in genuine fear when the other you lumbered by him, choking on pained sobs, perhaps in search of your old peace.

Norton

-He told you from the beginning that it was a bad idea. Norton was not an educated man but he had sense—and experience—enough to know when paranormal shit was not to be trifled with. He still had nightmares about that eye….

-But you went on ahead with your business anyway. He let you, albeit while watching his back a whole lot more. Isolating. Swallowing his dread. You remind him of his mistakes before you even make them.

-He doesn’t think much of your first symptoms. Norton gets sore sometimes, and feels ill. The Black Lung never did leave him, and some days he handles it worse than others. You have nothing like that, though, and after several days of persisting discomfort he remembers that fact and sends you to Emily. She’s as perplexed as him though, and that makes him feel even more nervous.

-He also doesn’t notice for a while that you’ve stopped talking about your search entirely. He asks you about it once, when he catches you staring at the wall in a daze, and feels like a knife pierces his lung when you say you don’t have the faintest clue what he’s talking about.

-He keeps catching you like that. Paralyzed in a particular spot. Watching things, unblinking. When you come to, you don’t remember what you were doing. Your memory starts go slip away like Luca’s does, but somehow it’s more severe. You remember who you are, who he is, but everything else is gone. Some evenings he practically has to spoon feed you dinner because the concept of silverware and food have escaped you.

-Paranoid of what it all means, Norton starts to stay with you at night. But he gets no sleep during those times because all night you moan in pain. When Norton wraps his arms around you for comfort, he wears he feels your muscles twisting and undulating under your skin.

-Norton does not remember the last time he’s screamed, but he did the day after you finally seemed better. After he finally started to relax again. He was decoding in the top floor of the hospital when he heard that familiar moaning coming from below. He freezes at the sound, and when he looks over his shoulder he sees a twisted, stretched figure crawling up through the gaping hole in the floor. He knows the hair, the voice, but nothing else is you.

-And he screams, backed up against the cipher like a cornered animal. Never in his life has he not tried to run for his life, but when this Hunter of you locks eyes with him he can’t. He can’t run from what he didn’t fight harder against. Even when facing Fool’s Gold—himself—he’s never felt so much like a failure.

Kevin

-He’s always known he lacks your foresight. Kevin can’t begin to suspect the truth of things like this place. The sprawling vastness of it, he doesn’t trust himself to comprehend the complexity, the darkness. But you? Well, even if this it all a bit eerie, he’s got faith in your intelligence.

-He plays closer attention to you than the other two. The second you start to look off, he tasks notice. He sees the obsession in your face, the dark bags under your eyes, the way your nose digs deeper into things than before. You become…pushier with people.

-Kevin suggests you take a break, but you wave him off. You’re onto something, you say, and just need a little more understanding before everything unravels. He doesn’t like that word. “Unravel.”

-Which is perhaps a premonition, because it’s a great word to describe what happens to you. When you’re awake—and you are awake for irrationally long hours—you seem positively mad. You whisper to yourself in words that don’t sound human. He catches “Hastur” among them a few times, and “Witch” but once again his own comprehension fails.

-And when you sleep, you scream. The fist few nights it happened, he and a few others came running from down the hall and roused you. You didn’t remember the terrors. Night after night it happened, the response dwindling until it was just Kevin abandoning his own sleep to help you from whatever was terrifying you in your sleep.

-Then, you stopped waking up. He tried everything! Water, those smelling salts Emily had. Nothing would wake you and you just kept screaming, screaming, screaming like you were being dissected in your bed. After three days of not sleeping himself, Kevin carried your thrashing form to the infirmary. He was horrified when Emily suggested restraining and gagging you, but he had no other ideas himself. He slept in the chair nearby for what felt like weeks.

-And one day it all stopped. Kevin woke up, cracked his stiff neck, and noticed you were gone from your restraints. Emily was as confused as he was, but before the panic could build you emerged from your own bedroom, right as rain.

-He pulled you aside and cried in your arms until he passed out himself.

-The next match, though, started his own series of nightmares. Only a few minutes in he heard that scream. That blood-curdling wail that had been seared into his memory. It paralyzed him, and everyone else, on the spot. And then the vestige of your suffering appeared. Dark, shivering, voice raw and pained. The new Hunter that rounded the corner was undeniably you, and Kevin was sure he’d never know another peaceful day again.

#idv x reader #identity v #aesop carl x reader #kevin ayuso x reader #norton campbell x reader #idv prospector #idv embalmer #idv cowboy #turbulentscrawl

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noisyquokka · 3 months

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Piece of You

PAIRING - Jeongin x GN!Reader

SYNOPSIS - You can't imagine your life without him, and you wouldn't want to. He's a part of you now, a piece of your identity as much as you are a part of his.

WORDCOUNT - 870 (ignore the last piece I posted where I said I couldn't write anything under 1k words lmao)

WARNINGS - Fluff, Established Friendship, two (2) besties getting philosophical under the stars, typical Innieisms

A/N - It's Innie Day! Enjoy a cute little bestie blurb, Darlings! (I love him sm, how have I never written a proper fic for him yet?!)

“You ever wonder what our lives could be?”

Jeongin’s head rests in your lap, his eyes focused on the clear sky above. Your fingers card lazily through his hair, brushing the dark tresses from his field of view. The question hangs in the air like a cloud, a whisper in the twilight that leaves you wondering if he had even heard you.

“What it could be?” Jeongin repeats, confusion etched in the crease of his brow. You hum an affirmative, eyelids sliding open and sweeping down to catch his gaze. He shrugs, ghosting his fingers over the palm of your hand.

“The thought never crosses my mind,” he says.

You hum again, eyes spanning skyward.

Whatever warmth the sun offered during the day had been snuffed out by the February frost. Twilight pervades the sky like sheer curtains over a bedroom window, gradually depleting with the help of Earth’s orbit. The city’s skyline glows from miles away, its lights shimmering like the coming stars. The air was crisp now, comfortable enough for you and Jeongin to sneak onto your roof and watch the sunset.

“Things could be so different, you know…”

Jeongin sits up from his spot beside you, eyes locking with yours. The concern is evident. It isn’t like you to be this vague. Normally Jeongin was more than capable of picking up what you were putting down, but not tonight. You’d confused the poor man. Even worse, you’ve worried him. Your nose scrunches in regret, and you offer him a soft smile.

“Nevermind. It’s dumb, I’m just… thinking out loud.” you mutter, turning your attention back to the navy blue sky. You can feel his eyes on you, can guess that those brows are creased on his forehead. His hand finds yours instinctively.

“Hey, it’s not dumb.” His fingers lace with yours, thumb ghosting over the back of your hand. You smile to yourself, the familiar feeling washing over you like sunshine on epidermis. “You can tell me anything. You know that.”

“I just…” You sigh heavily, trying to figure out exactly what it is you’re trying to get across. The feeling of Jeongin’s fingers running over your palm is a welcomed comfort. “There’s some alternate timeline out there that has you and I written down as strangers. We probably lived on opposite sides of the world, or maybe we lived down the street from each other and never caught each other’s eye.” You keep your gaze on the toes of your sneakers, tapping them lightly against the shingles. Jeongin keeps silent, nothing more than an inhalation of breath leaving his lungs.

His expression softens, your words finally hitting him.

It’s more than normal for you guys to sit up here on any given night and get philosophical under the stars, talking until the birds wake with their chorus of dawn twitterings. While those talks have gotten pretty deep, it was this one that shattered the ceiling. You've been best friends forever, always found time for one another on the busiest of days. More so on the bad days. Jeongin's certain you're the only person he could call on a whim and you'd drop everything if needed.

Your words are powerful, and they hold a certain weight to them. They make him question his life and his choices throughout. Who would you be if not for him? What kind of person would you be without his influence? Where would he be without yours? Who would he be? His heart sinks like an anchor in his stomach.

You feel the lightest sensation of Jeongin’s fingers over your palm — a reminder that he’s there, listening with keen ears. Then the surefire heat of his body sliding closer, one arm circling your back. You spare him a glance only to find his eyes focused on the stars above. The dim lighting from your window glosses over his profile, and you watch the stars trapped in his pupils.

“I like to think that the universe couldn’t find a better person to pair me with,” He blinks, laced fingers squeezing yours. He drops his eyes to you, his gaze warm and gentle. “so it gave me you.”

You are struck by the unexpected tenderness of his words. The universe brought you together for a reason. You can't imagine your life without him. The thought of being strangers in a different life is unthinkable.

You lean back against him with a soft smile etching your lips.

"I think that's the perfect way to describe us, two people who were meant to be paired together.”

“Well, I was going for more of a ‘there’s no one else who can handle this amazing, loveable guy’ trope.”

“Oh come on, Innie!” You laugh at his comment, shoving your shoulder back into his chest. “is it too much to ask for you to be sentimental on occasion?”

“Sentimental Innie costs 40000.”

“You’re insane.”

He cracks a grin and shoots you a cheeky wink.

“I’m simply putting my skills to good use.”

“And why don’t I get a discount?”

“I’m too talented to put myself out there for free.”

You roll your eyes, leaning back into him. You feel his heartbeat pounding softly against your back as two pairs of eyes settle skyward.

Nothing more needs to be said.

You both know this is enough.

Psst!! If you made it this far, thank you for taking the time to read my work 💕 I appreciate you!

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silentglassbreak · 2 months

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Please please , write something. Noah and Lily, she is designer and painter, they are working together on design for new album or merch, or something like that. She is redhead, have freckles, have a lot of tattoos, like to wearing skirts and sundresses. thank you! I love your work so so much 💔💔🥲

Bb you are my first ask! So, naturally, you have my undying love and affection for eternity!

Also, this physical description is giving me such inspiration. My best friend has a very similar physical appearance, so this will be fun!! (I just finished this and OMG this got away from me. I did not intend for this to be this long...I really got into this one. I hope you enjoy!)

So let’s get into this, shall we?

Rating: Mature (for language)

Warnings: None.

Into The Ocean

What did I think would happen when I moved to New York City? That I would get here, put a few paintings in some galleries, and suddenly I’d be making millions? How fucking insane am I?

My inner monologue continued as I catatonically stirred my bowl of soggy Frosted Flakes, moping heavily.

It had been six months since I moved here on a whim and a breath of a dream, thinking that with my ‘sparkling personality’, ‘adorably good looks’, and ‘raw talent’ I’d be a success so quick. These days, however, I spent a lot of time wishing I had stayed back home in Hartford, in my Mom’s two bedroom home, with my dog and my normalcy.

No, couldn’t be me. I had to go off with delusions of grandeur, and get myself a full time job as a desk girl at a law firm (which sucked), and had virtually no time to paint like I wanted. My studio apartment in Queens was big enough for me; a bed, a small table, and my paint supplies. I had a clothes rack for my small wardrobe, and a television on the wall adjacent to my bed. My minimal belongings were strewn haphazardly around with no real method. It felt much like my life - off kilter.

Frustrated, I decided to get off the bed, still holding my bowl, and stared at the cereal floating sadly in the milk. It looked so pathetic, the same as I felt.

My eyes wandered to the floor, then the edge of the bed, and eventually to the right of it, where the seven-foot by four-foot canvas sat.

I had that particular canvas since my first day here in New York. I swore that canvas would hold my best work. The piece that would change everything for me. I promised myself I wouldn’t touch it until I was certain I knew what it would be, and was ready.

But now? Staring at it? It mocked me. Day in, day out, it reminded me that I was just another struggling artist in this God forsaken jungle of a city made of concrete and exploitation. It laughed at me. It told me I had failed.

Without realizing it, my arm shot the bowl in my hand clear across the room, the milk and flakes splattering all over my bed, and eventually spraying the canvas. It left a sickly gray hue against the stark white vastness behind it, giving me a sense of anger. A sense of rage.

Climbing up onto my bed, my feet digging into the mattress while I reached for the shelf above it, grabbing random paints from the bowl they lived in. I hastily twisted the caps off of each, my breathing becoming frantic as I felt the sudden anxiety surge through me.

Once the tubes were open, I didn’t bother with my palette, or my brushes, I just squeezed the tubes, three in each hand, until they all sprayed like firehoses over the canvas, all in varying shades of blue and black. I hadn’t even realized I only grabbed blue and black paint.

Finally, after several minutes of raging, smearing paint across the canvas with no structure, using my palms and fingers, I stepped back. The anger and fire in my chest had dulled. I took a step back, and caught a glimpse of myself in my wall-length mirror across the room, and cringed.

Navy blue paint streaked my pale yellow shorts and faded UC t-shirt. I had a large glob of black paint on my face near my hairline, turning that spot of my red waves a midnight color. I needed a shower.

Now that I had thoroughly ruined my clothes, bed, walls, and canvas, I elected to head for the bathroom to clean myself up before the process of cleaning my apartment.

However, as I turned away from the canvas, I caught a sight of it in my peripheral, and something in my brain sparked. The blues and blacks, which turned dark grey when mixed. The lines and swirls they fell in. The non-uniformity of it all.

Waves.

Ocean.

Chaos.

And like that, I was climbing back up on my bed, ready to finish my painting.

It was after 5AM, and I only had three hours before I had to be back at work before I finished. When I did, I gasped at what I saw in front of me.

It was superb.

The waves crashed everywhere as the moon hung low in the sky, storm clouds covering. Amidst the maelstrom that was the ocean, there was one large, beautiful, impossibly sad octopus, thrashing in the waves, bleeding from the eyes.

The octopus was a deep gray, blending but also naturally contrasting the color of the waves, deep crimson blood running from its desperate eyes.

It was painful. It was despondent. It was powerful.

This was it.

Forty-two days had passed, and I was struggling to breathe as my hands trembled where they sat in my pockets, watching the droves of people walk by me. I did my best to smooth down the skirt of my lime-green sundress and tugged at the lapels of my denim jacket. My hair was pulled into a tight ponytail, leaving my waves to cascade down my back loosely, out of my face.

The sun above provided a warmth that was needed, but I had forgotten SPF today, which meant I would likely have a fresh batch of freckles on my cheeks to add to all the others. Today had to be the day. Something in my skin told me it did.

I had been to three art fairs, two open galleries, and a fine arts convention, trying to get something, anything sold.

Three days after I finished my piece, I was told that Burgen & Black no longer needed my position, so this was all I had right now. This, and the three hundred dollars my mom loaned me when I told her I was a little short on rent.

Rent wouldn’t be an issue soon if I didn’t sell anything, as cardboard boxes are real cheap.

This open fair was in Central Park, mid-September, so it was comfortable outside. The sun was getting low, causing a golden sky to reach overhead. I had been here all day, and was beginning to feel defeated.

I hadn’t sold as much as one print. One painting.

After staring at the crowds for another twenty-minutes, I finally decided to start packing up. It was a long bus ride back to Queens, and I would be too cold after dark.

Stuffing a handful of my prints into my portfolio bag, I huffed at myself, shaking my head.

Maybe it was time to go home. Maybe being an artist just wasn’t where I fit. Maybe I did need to reconsider college. It wasn’t too late. Twenty-six was an easy age, right?

“Is this all you?”

A sharp, deep voice snapped me out of my thoughts, making me spin on my heel, to see who was standing at my booth, scanning the pieces set up on the table.

The first thing I noticed was how tall he was. He had at least a foot of height on me. I noticed next that he was covered everywhere in tattoos. The long expanse of his arms that led to the bit of his chest I could see behind his tank top was littered. It made my mouth dry.

His hair was short, hidden under a ball cap, sunglasses perched on his nose.

It took me a moment of staring before I realized he had asked me a question.

“Oh, uh,” I walked back to the table, standing directly in front of him. “yeah these are my works.”

He nodded, looking down at the table and flipping fingers through the prints.

“I like them. They’re different.”

I gave my best ‘please buy this’ smile, and nodded.

“Thank you. I just paint what I feel. It helps me deal.”

He smirked. “I get that.” His eyes came back up to my face. “Not the painting. I can’t do that. But having something to help you deal? I get that.”

That’s interesting. “Yeah? What do you use to deal?”

He flashed his teeth at me. “Music.”

Oh, brother. A musician. Any awe I was feeling was dissolving. I had yet to meet one that was worth his salt in anything, let alone carrying a tune.

“Ah, well, different animal, same results?” I tried not to sound disinterested.

“How much for the prints?”

I felt my lungs tighten. Money?!

“Ten, but it’s two for eighteen.”

He smirked. “What would a hundred get me?”

If I had not caught it quick enough, my eyes would have bugged out of my head. I stifled a cough to cover up my surprise.

“Uh,” I looked around. No one had purchased one hundred dollars of my work before. Not all at once. “Seven prints? Or four prints and a canvas or two? Depends on size.”

I pointed to the side of my table, there I had a cardboard box full of canvases. He glanced over, and turned so he could see better.

With a ‘hmph’, he squatted down and looked through them, nodding at some, disregarding others.

Eventually, he came back up and had two smaller canvases perched in his hands.

A painting I had done of ravens when I was sat in a cemetery one day for inspiration, and one of a dark room that held a single bright red wood chair. That had come to me in a dream.

“Okay, and I’ll take these four prints.” He handed me the laminated copies and gave me a sweet, polite smile.

“Sounds good, it’ll be a hundred even.”

“Can you take card?” My face fell. I couldn’t handle my rent and groceries, let alone a card reader.

He must have noticed, because he raised his eyebrows.

“Got Zelle?”

I nodded, pulling my phone out, a rush of relief washing over me. I gave him my phone number, and he pulled me up, transferring a cool one hundred dollars into my account. My stomach flipped. I was halfway to rent with my borrowed cash, and I still had two weeks before it was due.

It was the first shred of hope I had felt in a while.

“Noah!” A male voice called before a shorter man bounded up, and my eyes popped open.

Nick Folio, the drummer from Bad Omens, stood in front of my table, and I just about fell over with a stroke.

My mouth was hung open, in pure disbelief. It hadn’t even occurred to me who he had called for.

Folio held a plastic bag, having clearly grabbed something else from another table.

“There’s a guy selling homemade lures, dude. I bought six!” His teeth flashed in excitement, and my customer shook his head, smiling.

“You’re going to go broke buying those things.”

It was in that moment it dawned on me. That voice. Those tattoos. Those sinfully long fingers…

“Are you Noah Sebastian?” My words came out rushed, before I could stop them.

A sly grin fell over his lips. “Never heard of him.” He smoothly turned around, preparing to leave. “Thanks for the artwork.”

Folio gave me a small wave before following Noah. I was frozen.

I just met one half of Bad Omens. I had sold artwork to Noah Sebastian. He liked my art. I couldn’t breathe.

It took me a solid ten minutes before I could move, then packing my things and heading for the bus with my bag and box in arms, glancing around the park a few times for a familiar ball cap and forbidden fruit tattoo.

Nine days have passed since I unexpectedly met Noah Sebastian and Nick Folio, and it had been heavy on my mind until the stress of my rent became the reason I was laying awake at night.

With no other real resolve, my hunt for another nine-to-five not getting very far, I found myself trekking back to Central Park, ready to set up another table. I had fresh prints, and a dozen new canvasses to hopefully sell.

Now that we had crossed the threshold into October, the air was becoming more brisk. Today, I had elected to wear a floor-length forest green skirt with a white crop top, my black zip hoodie keeping my arms warm.

Today was more lively, giving me the opportunity to sell six prints and four canvasses by noon. I had made my rent, and was working on the power bill next. I had slightly raised my prices, given my circumstances, but I justified it with the need to survive.

Did I expect to run into him again? Not at all. In fact, I had convinced myself that my once in a lifetime chance to meet him had passed, and I should be excited about it. I was a Bad Omens fan, and had been since their second album. Their style of music was absolutely cathartic for me, giving me inspiration on more than one occasion while painting.

So, imagine my surprise, when I heard the same deep, smooth voice while I was reorganizing my canvasses.

“Back again?” This time, he wore a hoodie, beanie over his hair, and no sunglasses. His eyes were so big, so brown. I wanted to stare at them for hours.

I snorted. “Me? I could say the same to you?”

He leaned his hand on the table, smiling down at where I was crouched in front of my box.

“Selling a lot?”

Triumphantly grinning, I stood up, leaning my palms on the table. “Actually, yeah. It’s been weird. Central Park isn’t normally a hot spot for me, but today has been great!”

There was a flash of thirty-two stunning teeth, and I held myself upright.

“Maybe the word is spreading?”

“Maybe. Going to buy anything today?”

Raising a row, he scanned the table, tapping on one print. “This one is nice. How much?”

“Fifteen.”

His head snapped up, bewildered look on his face.

“It was ten last week?”

A sheepish blush crept over my face, and I tried to be sweet, brushing some of my loose hair behind my ear.

“Yeah, uh,” I couldn’t look right at him. “I had to raise the price a little. Living cost’s a bitch.” I shrugged.

He looked absolutely amused. “I see.” He pulled his phone out, and began tapping at something I couldn’t see. Afterwards, he picked up the print he chose, and gave me a two finger salute.

“Thanks a lot, Red.”

I smirked, feeling the phone vibrate in my pocket. I ignored it for now and approached a young couple who had walked over to my table. I did, however, watch as Noah left, making his way straight out of the park, not stopping at any other tables.

Finally home, I flopped down on my bed, and let my eyes fall closed for just a moment. I had called it early, feeling exuberant and deciding I deserved an afternoon to just relax, not painting, not trying to find a job, just snacking and watching Netflix.

Slipping my phone out of my pants pocket, I sat up, seeing some missed messages and scrolling through my notifications.

When I came to the last one, I nearly dropped my phone.

Zelle Notification: Noah Davis sent you $100.

My jaw dropped. He only bought one print. Why would he give me so much? He must have done it by mistake.

I bit my lip, bothered. I felt guilty, as if I had stolen the money from him. People were generous, but no one was that generous...right?

Staring at my Zelle account, I took a deep breath, and tapped on the transaction, pulling up the details. My finger hovered over Noah's name, wondering if I'd just get his email. After counting three calculated breaths, I finally tapped it, and a phone number flashed under the name.

Oh God, I had Noah Sebastian's phone number.

It was me being a good samaritan that caused me to pull up a text thread, and begin typing a message. The voice in the back of my head screamed at me that I could just sent eighty-five dollars back, and not invade his privacy by texting him.

But...

Me: Noah?

After hitting send, I physically tossed my phone on the mattress, and pulled my knees up to my chest, breathing erratic. I sat in absolute silence, waiting. Each passing second made my soul fall. What if it wasn't his personal cell he used for Zelle? He was a somewhat celebrity, after all. Would he really just casually give his number out to a random girl in the park?

My phone chimed, and I thought my carotid was going to blow out of my neck. Shaking fingers lifted the phone.

Noah: Who is this?

No confirmation of identity, but the number worked.

I went to type a response, telling him who I was, until I realized I never gave him my name. Sure, I had signed my art, but my signature was decently illegible.

Chewing my lip, I wracked my brain for the right response.

Me: Red.

The text bubbles had turned blue, and I saw he had received and read the message, but his type signal hadn't come up yet.

I was insane, I had to be.

Noah: LOL you mean Lily?

My blood ran cold.

Me: How do you know my name?

Noah: Well, much like my own, your Zelle tells me your first and last name.

I felt like such a moron. Of course it did.

Me: Oh, LOL yeah I didn't think of that.

I typed out another message, before I forgot.

Me: You sent me too much for that print!

Noah: No I didn't.

Me: You did. You sent me $100.

Me: I can send back $85.

Noah: Don't you dare.

This made me pause, already on the Zelle screen, his message flashing as a banner on top, making my fingers halt.

Me: Noah, I can't take that from you for one print.

Noah: ...because...?

Me: Because it's way too much! I appreciate it, but I'm not comfortable with that.

He waited a few minutes, his type bubble appearing and disappearing a few times.

Noah: So I'll buy something else from you, then.

I rolled my eyes.

Me: What would you like?

Noah: You have a portfolio online?

I sighed, embarrassed. My online presence was close to nonexistent. I had an Instagram, with all of five photos on it, and they were all four months old. I didn't have a website, not having the money to create one yet.

Me: I don't, I'm sorry.

Noah: Studio I can check out?

I stared at the screen, and laughed loudly. Oh, I've got a studio alright. Just not what he's thinking of.

Me: Not exactly. I'm a very small artist. I do all of my work out of my apartment.

Noah: Which is where?

My heart sunk. No way. Not letting him in my four hundred square foot, paint covered, disarrayed apartment.

Me: Queens.

I stayed vague.

Noah: Oh yeah, I'm over in Central Park West right now.

I sighed, relieved, and slightly disappointed.

Me: I can send you some pictures of my work? I'll just need a few to take them.

Noah: Can you just FaceTime? Seems faster.

How on Earth did we get here? I was going to FaceTime with a rockstar, and show him my paintings? This couldn't be real life.

Me: Sure. Call when you're ready.

I walked over to the corner of my studio that I kept my completed works in, a sheet thrown over the large canvas in an attempt protect the paint from the sun rays. I had yet to take that one anywhere yet. I hadn't found the right venue to sell.

After about five minutes, my phone began vibrating in my hand, and I looked down to see his name flashing.

My heart was beating so frantically, I was sure it would disconnect and come out of my throat.

I swiped the call open, and held the camera at the most flattering angle I could. Once the call connected, he sat on what appeared to be a staircase, somewhere outside, same beanie on his head from earlier, and was smiling into the camera.

"Hey!"

His enthusiasm surprised me, and I waved nervously, smiling back at him.

"Hi."

"Why do you look so uneasy? Are you being held hostage or something?"

My face fell, wildly confused by his comment. "What?"

His laugh echoed through the receiver, which made this weird jittery thing happen in my stomach.

"I'm just joking. You just look uncomfortable." He pulled his beanie down more, and I swallowed dryly, trying to giggle.

"Oh, yeah. No I'm good."

He sat back, elbow resting on the step behind him. "You sure?"

I felt like we weren't getting past this point. "Can I be honest?"

He didn't respond, just gestured for me to continue.

"I'm a fan. A big fan. So, yeah, I'm a little nervous."

His smile could've illuminated a small town.

"Oh yeah?" He ran a hand over his face. "Don't be. I'm just a guy."

Feeling rebellious, I rolled my eyes. "Yeah. A guy who hundreds of thousands of girls would kill to FaceTime with."

This made him blush, so he looked down. "Ah, I don't know about that."

I decided to press my luck. "I do."

He furrowed his brow, smirking. "Oh yeah? So you're just that lucky, huh?"

This made me grin, in near disbelief. "Ah, the great Noah Sebastian. Cocky, huh?"

This made him laugh again, to which I joined.

"Nah. Like, I said, I'm just a guy. Really cool to know you're a fan, though." I nodded in response. "Ever seen us live?"

I shook my head. "Cost of living's a bitch. You think I can afford concert tickets?"

He shrugged. "Fair enough, dude."

"Anyways, you want me to show you the artwork?"

He agreed, and I flipped the camera around, scanning through the various pieces I had out in the corner. At his request, I would get closer to a piece, or pull it up to the camera. I watched as his eyes would get close to the phone, analyzing each canvas.

"I really like the desert painting." He was referring to a painting I had done that was slightly more abstract of a desert with random melted items such as longhorn skulls, cacti, and pieces of driftwood. They melted into the sand below.

"Okay. That would bring your total with the print earlier to fifty, since this one is bigger."

He nodded. "Do you have anything for fifty even?"

Biting my lip, I scanned my eyes, landing on a painting I had of a black cat, perched on the edge of a pond, cleaning it's paw, a skeletal hand reaching out of the water for it. The painting was done in nearly all neon colors, which was different for me.

"This one." I held it up in the camera.

"Oh dude, that's fucking sick." He pulled back from the camera. "I'll take it."

I chuckled. "Okay, do you want me to ship them?"

I flipped the camera back around, and he raised an eyebrow at me. "To Central Park West?"

I shrugged. "I could."

"Nah. I can get them from you. I don't live in New York and I leave back home for LA this weekend."

This made my chest sink only a little. "Right, I can ship them there if you want?"

He shook his head. "Let's meet up and I can get them?" I hesitated to respond, and I swear I saw a flash of concern on his face. "Unless you've got plans or something."

This made me smirk. "We didn't even say when? How would I know if I had plans?"

He huffed out a laugh, grabbing his beanie off of his head and smiling. "Sorry, you're right."

"When do you want to meet?"

"Tonight? I'm busy most of the week, but I'd really like to get my stuff soon."

Pondering this, I sat down on my bed, back to my art corner. "Where?"

"There's an Italian restaurant near my hotel. We can get dinner?"

I'm going to dinner with Noah fucking Sebastian?!

"Sure. Just text me the address?" He nodded in response. "What time?"

"Whatever time works best for you, Red."

I rolled my eyes. "You know my name, Noah."

A small wink, and he smiled. "I know, Lily. I just like your hair."

My face turned a deep shade of crimson, and I felt the urge to pull at my long red waves.

"Well, if that's the plan, I'm going to get ready. I have to leave a while before you to catch the subway."

I stood off the bed and went to turn, but he spoke and stopped me.

"Hey, what's that behind you?"

I turned, scanning. "What?"

"Under the sheet."

It occurred to me what he was referring to, and I waved it off.

"Just another piece."

"Can I see it?"

I shook my head. "Nah, I haven't shown anyone yet."

"So? I can be the first!" He seemed so excited, which made me giggle.

"It's an emotion piece. Not like the others."

He raised a brow. "Still not hearing why I can't see it."

Biting the inside of my cheek, I shrugged. "Alright, but don't get too excited. It's not as clean and precise as my other work."

He just shrugged, and I reached over, pulling the sheet off the canvas, and flipped the camera.

I watched his eyes, scanning the screen over and over. He looked so enamored, I was confused. Was the connection bad?

"Noah? You okay?"

He leaned back, blinking. "Lily, that's fucking amazing!"

I laughed, stepping closer to the painting. "It's okay. It's a rage painting. Something I started in a fit, and kind of worked into what it is now."

"I can tell. You can feel the pain in the image. The colors are unbelievable."

"Oh, I don't know. It's okay."

"Okay? Red, that painting is unreal. How much do you want for it?"

His question caught me by surprise, nearly knocking me down. "What?"

"How much? I want it." He was so matter of fact, that the air rushed out of me.

"I haven't priced it. It's a big piece, bigger than anything else I've ever done."

"Okay, well tell me what you think, because I'll pay a lot for it."

My heart began stammering, words not forming on my lips. "Y-You really want it?"

"I don't just want it; I want to use it."

I was confused. "What do you mean?"

"I'll tell you at dinner. Just do me a favor? Think about a price? I really want that painting."

We agreed to meet at 7PM, but I was late. The subway had been packed, and I missed the first one. I didn't come jogging up to the front of the restaurant until fifteen after, seeing Noah stood outside, same outfit on as earlier today. I had to calm my insides at the sight.

I waved when he caught a glimpse of me, earning a smile in my direction.

"Hey, Red!"

I rolled my eyes. He wasn't letting that go.

"Hi, Noah."

When I approached, he put an arm out, and wrapped it around my shoulders casually. I had to take several deep breaths to remind myself that, like he said, he's just a guy.

An attractive guy. With tattoos. And the voice of an angel.

And this wasn't a date...right? This was a transaction...right?!

Trying to shake off the thoughts, I handed him the bag on my arm.

"Your goodies."

He smiled and took the bag, looking inside. "Nice. Thank you."

I followed him into the restaurant, which didn't look too terribly fancy. We were dressed casually, as were most people here. We were sat at a small table, a little dish with butter and rolls already in the middle.

We sat down, and began scanning the menus. The prices jumped out at me as relatively expensive, and I knew I would be taking my work out again tomorrow to make back the money I would be spending tonight.

Noah ordered a beer. I ordered water.

Noah ordered a steak with linguine on the side. I ordered a salad.

This caught his attention. "You don't want more than a salad and water?"

I hid behind my glass, shrugging. "Not the most hungry."

"Hm," He sat back and eyed me. "okay. For now."

The fuck does that mean?

"So have you given any more thought to how much you want for that painting?" He spoke before I could respond.

"I haven't. I really don't know, Noah." I shook my head, thinking. "Three hundred?"

His eyes widened. "No way, man. It's worth way more."

I was dumbstruck. "Are you asking me to charge you more?"

"Fuck yeah I am. That painting is worth ten grand, at the very least."

As badly as I wanted not to, and prayed I hadn't, I spit my water out onto the table, spraying my salad. My face immediately turned bright red, matching my hair.

"Excuse me?!"

He seemed very unfazed. "What?"

"Did you say ten grand? As in ten thousand?" He nodded. "Dollars?!"

He rolled his eyes. "No. Marshmallows."

Without thought, I picked up a cherry tomato and tossed it at him, bouncing it off of his hand on his plate. He glanced up at me, mouth open, amused.

"Did you just throw a tomato at me?"

I pressed my lips together in a very small, devious grin. "Maybe."

He picked up the tomato between two long fingers, considered it for a moment, and popped it in his mouth.

"I've never had that happen. And I'm a singer."

This made me laugh. "Oh God."

He wiped his mouth on his napkin. "Seriously, though, Red. You need to price your stuff fairly. Don't accept less than what you're worth."

I leaned back in my chair, considering this. "So, you want to pay me ten thousand for my painting?"

He shook his head. "I don't." My heart sunk for a second. "My label will, though."

My eyebrows shot up. "Pardon? The label?"

He was chewing some steak, and waited to swallow before he responded. I found myself staring at the apple on his throat bobbing.

"I want that painting to be our next album cover."

I felt my jaw physically hit the floor, break through the table and all. I was hallucinating.

"You...what?"

"I've been looking for months. I had been looking at photography until very recently, because I just wasn't finding anything that worked. I started scouting art fairs and galleries almost a year ago."

My eyes were blinking at an alarming rate.

"So, that's why you came to Central Park twice, then."

He smirked, lifting the beer bottle to his lips. "That's why I came to your table twice, yes."

I was pushing my salad around on the plate, not looking at him. "Ah, and here I was thinking you came back to see me." I looked up and gave him the cheekiest smile I could, joking.

Snorting, he flashed his teeth again. "Well, that too."

My stomach stuttered, and I set my fork down. I folded my arms on the table, looking straight at him.

"You're serious? You really want my painting for the album?"

He put his hands in his sweater pockets and leaned forward, so his face was hovering over the table.

"I'm dead serious." His tongue slipped over his bottom lip, catching my attention. "There's more to it than just buying it. We'd have to purchase rights from you, so you can't sell copies."

I raised a brow, now intrigued. "Oh?"

He leaned back again. "I don't want anyone else having our original piece that you did. We would, of course, credit you on the album, and maybe even ask you to do some additional work for the rest of the art?"

There was a lump in my throat I couldn't swallow. "Rest of the art?"

"Yeah. The back of the album. The vinyl casing and variants. Merch, maybe?"

I couldn't breathe. It was so hot all of a sudden.

Noah could sense my panic. "I'm sorry. I'm not trying to overwhelm you."

I gulped down half of my water at once. "No, I just..." I trailed off, staring at the tablecloth. "I've never had anyone want my artwork that bad."

He smiled. "Isn't the point to sell it? Success?"

"Well sure, but to go from selling prints and small canvasses in the parks to doing artwork for a huge band like Bad Omens? That's a bit of a step." I stared at him, trying to mask my anxiety, and failing horribly.

"I don't know if I'd call us huge." His smirk was coy, and I rolled my eyes.

"Wow. Cocky." I echoed my earlier statement, and this made him giggle like a child.

"Listen, think about it? In the meantime, can I ask a favor?" I didn't respond. "Don't sell any copies of that? Once you do, I can't use it."

I shrugged, and nodded, agreeing.

Two weeks had gone by, and I had not seen Noah since the night at the restaurant. I had re-covered the canvas, but the question replayed in my mind over and over.

Noah had decided to buy more pieces off of me, bringing my profits up to six hundred, which had my utilities paid this month and a small batch of groceries in the refrigerator. I agreed to ship them as soon as I could, but he kept telling me to take my time.

I knew what he really wanted to ask, but he held back.

I had thought about it over and over, trying hard to not let my bias toward Noah, or the bad, sway me.

This was a big step. Not owning my own art? Being pressured to make more that met a standard? Being under a contract? That wasn't what I got into this for. This wasn't why I became an artist and moved here. One of the best parts about creating something that you love, is that you get to do it freely. Once you have to do it, or do it a certain way, it becomes all too tedious. It's work now. I wasn't sure I'd be happy with it.

But on the flipside, there was a strange thrill at the idea. Someone wants my painting bad enough that they are willing to give me so much leeway financially, I can paint whenever I want. I'll get exposure. This could be what does it.

This painting could change everything.

And that was the point, right? I bought the canvas telling myself that this was the piece that changed it all. This was my ticket to success. And here it was, in front of me...

Ripping the sheet off of the canvas, I stared at it. The waves crashed over one another. The moon, bright, but somehow so ominous, shone through, bouncing off of the water in a way that made them look almost silver. The octopus, tentacles scattered amongst the waves, stared at me, bleeding eyes seeing through my soul.

"Is this what I'm supposed to do?" I asked the creature. I was met with silence. Loud, deafening, overwhelming silence.

"Fuck it."

I picked up my phone from the bed, bringing up my recent text thread with Noah, smiling at the meme he had sent earlier in the day.

I typed out a quick message, and sighed when I saw he read it quickly, and responded even quicker.

Me: I'm in.

Noah: Oh FUCK yeah!

Six months ago, I met Noah Sebastian for the first time, and he bought some of my art for a hundred dollars. Five and a half weeks ago, he bought more of my art for a hundred more dollars.

Five months ago exactly, his record label offered me twelve thousand dollars for my painting, and the rights to it, and offered me a contract to complete and provide artwork for all pieces surrounding their upcoming album, with an overall gross value of eighty-two thousand dollars to be paid up front, with the understanding that I would provide the artwork within one year of the contract signing.

Naturally, I was a mess.

Still living in my studio apartment, I had rented a painting studio six blocks from my apartment, and spent near all of my time there. I had completed the entire album artwork, maintaining the theme of the original piece, but adding in major twists in each installment.

So far, the label, the band, and mostly Noah, were pleased.

But today, I was stressed. There was one insert in the vinyl copy of the album that needed artwork. It needed a standalone piece, and I was drawing a vivid blank. I had been staring at the 3 foot by 2 foot canvas for two hours, paintbrush twirling between my paint-stained fingers. My old, ratted jeans were blotched with deep blue paint from my last attempt, which had been scrapped.

I was getting nowhere way too fast, and needed a break. I stood from my stool, and pulled my t-shirt off, standing in only my dark red sports bra to fight against the heat. I kept it warm in the studio to keep the paint from hardening in the palette.

Pacing back and forth, music pumping through my Bluetooth speaker, I sighed. I needed emotion. I needed something to throw at this damn thing, like before.

My phone quieted the music for a moment, and I snatched it to check.

Noah: In town this weekend. Want to get lunch?

As badly as I wanted to, I just couldn't.

Me: I can't. Trying to get this piece done.

Noah: Want me to bring you food? Can't paint on an empty stomach.

Considering this, I pursed my lips. He wasn't wrong.

I responded with the address to the studio.

Forty-five minutes later, and Noah was pushing his way into the small studio, bags of Chinese in his hands. I was sat on the stool, still staring at the blank canvas, twirling my brush, and didn't even look at him.

"Hey!" He set the bags down on the table on the far side of the room. "You haven't started yet?"

A hard, deep growl came out of me, and I chucked my brush at the ground, hearing it clatter. I stood, fingers gripping my hair at the root.

He threw his hands up. "Woah, it's okay! I wasn't trying to say anything to upset you."

I took a deep breath, letting go of my mop of hair. "You didn't. I'm just drawing such a fucking blank! I can't figure out what to paint for this insert!"

He tightened his lips, putting his hands in his jean pockets.

"What usually helps?"

"Anger! And I've got plenty! But I've still got fucking nothing!" My foot kicked the stool, sliding it several feel away.

He took a step forward, toward me, hands coming out in front of him.

"Okay, so anger isn't working. Any other emotions we can use?"

I raised an eyebrow, halting my pacing. "What do you mean?" My words were sharp, and he cracked an amused smile.

"You're a real fireball, clearly, Red. But, do you have other emotions we can channel?"

I narrowed my eyes. "Of course I have other emotions."

"Like?"

Suddenly feeling cornered, I squeezed my eyes closed, breathing deeply.

"I don't know." I looked up at him. "Sadness? Depression?"

He snickered. "Why all negative emotions?"

"What?"

"Why not joy? Enthusiasm? Excitement?" He looked so genuine, it almost hurt my heart, because I was so angry and it wasn't his fault.

I paced over to the stool, coming down with a screech against the floor. "Sorry." I confessed. "This is just hard to do under pressure, you know?"

He nodded, standing next to me, a soft hand coming down on my mid-back, rubbing slow circles on my bare skin.

"I get it. More than most, I think." I looked up at him. "But if what you're used to isn't working, then we have to do something different."

I scrubbed a hand over my face, and smiled weakly. "How?"

He pursed his lips, and his hand came under my arm, pulling me up from the stool. "Grab your brush."

Opting for a fresh one, I held it in front of me, and waited for further instruction.

He smiled, and put both hands on my shoulders, pulling me toward the easel and canvas. I followed absently, trying not to focus on my skin tingling where he was touching me.

"Okay," He moved behind me, pushing me closer to the canvas. "pick a color."

I chuckled, and leaned over to the palette to my right, picking up a deep navy on my brush.

Satisfied, he squeezed my biceps for a second before letting his hands fall away.

"Now, close your eyes."

I turned my head to look at him skeptically, but his eyes pleaded with me, so I obeyed, holding my loaded brush and letting my lids fall closed.

The room fell impossibly quiet, and I could feel his presence heavy behind me. The sensation brought goosebumps to my warm skin.

I was nearly startled when I felt his fingers brush my thick hair over my shoulder, and his breath came across my ear.

"Now," His voice was baritone, so raspy and so close to me. "I want you to picture what you're feeling at this very moment."

Feeling? What is feeling? Who am I ?

"Picture your emotions. Picture them as colors. Objects. Lights." He let out a deep exhale that washed over my neck, making me shiver.

"What if I can't?" My voice was small.

A large, strong hand grasped my right hip, pulling me to lean slightly backward, pressing against the front of his body.

"You can. I know you can."

The fingers of his other and were trailing up my hip, tracing patters over the tattoos on my ribcage.

"You know how to do this, Lily. Just see what you feel."

I wanted to push this. I wanted to see how far I could take it.

Eyes still closed, I let my lips turn up ever so slightly. "What if I can't feel enough, yet?"

His chest, pressed against my back, trembled with quiet laughter, "No? You need more stimulation?"

Jesus this guy's is going to murder me.

"Maybe." I smiled slyly.

His lips ghosted over the side of my neck just under my ear, his hand on my hip slipping around the front of my waist and pulling me even closer.

"What if I," His lips trailed up my skin, grazing the flesh so gently. "give you," Up to my chin. My breath was shaking. "something to feel?"

His lips were testing mine, tip of his nose bumping my own.

The lowest, most whispered moan escaped my lips before he dipped even lower, gently pressing his lips against mine. I molded to him, body encased by his arms, lips slotting into place against his, eyes rolling back behind my lids.

The feeling exploded out of me, pouring into his mouth, hands reaching up to grip his hair.

We stood there, mouths fighting for dominance, before I pulled away, pushing his hands off of me frantically, and nearly jumped toward the canvas.

I heard him breathing heavily behind me, a low chuckle erupting from him.

"I guess it worked?"

I stopped my brush strokes, turning my head and letting my hair flip over my shoulder.

"For now. Might need more stimulation later."

#fanfic #bad omens #bad omens fanfiction #noah sebastian #noah sebastian fic #bad omens cult

42 notes · View notes

b000mbayah · 1 year

Text

Blackpink as yandere types

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Requested: Yes

Word count: 720

Warnings: Forced love

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Jisoo- Training

●Jisoo has always been kind of forceful, even when you were just friends.

●She had always demanded you go places with her, to never raise your voice when in her presence.

●But since you started dating, Jisoos temperamental demands only worsened.

●Jisoo had almost always demanded your vocal and physical affection to be a certain way depending on her mood.

●And if you got that wrong, oh boy, was she ready to cause you some issues.

●With mistakes comes consequences, and she knows all the right ways to make you feel awful if you do something wrong.

●She'd put you under heavy observation, keeping you strictly under her control.

●She'd have you say certain things for food,

●Or hug her a certain way just to get in bed.

●Think of Jisoo as the Queen.

●Now bow down to her every command.

●She loves you. She really does

●She just wants you to love her the way she desires to be loved.

"Say it, and I'll let you rest for tonight. Come on, just say you love me… Say it!"

Jennie- self indulgent

●Jennie thinks of herself as the most important person to have ever lived.

●And because of this, she believes you should think this way, too.

●She wants you to bow down to her.

●She wants you to worship her, to kiss her knuckles every time you greet each other.

●Jennie is selfish and only wants to satisfy her own desires and whims.

●She could do it without you, but she chooses not to.

●So you should bow down to her because of your fortunate situation.

●You don't understand how fortunate you are…

●How worthless you are without her…

●She'll make your life so much better, if only you obey her every word.

●You're her obedient pet,

●and she doesn't see you any other way.

"You want to go for a walk? I don't remember allowing you to request such things my love"

Rosé- Delusional

●Rosé has a genuine belief that you're in love with her.

●Her mind blurs the line between reality and deception, creating a lucid mesh of both worlds to create one.

●Rosé would swoon and giggle when in your presence, blushing mad anytime you even glance at her.

●She'd stutter and mumble when spoken to, all while smiling like a love drunk fool.

●However, if anyone was to try and tell her otherwise, she'd flip a switch and act more aggressive than not.

●She'd happily take that person aside and firmly reassure them that you were happily taken by theirs truly.

●She'll always see herself as right, opposed to others, with her reasons perfectly justified in the name of love.

●This unhealthy personality of hers makes everything she does almost unredeemable.

●Rosé is almost always in a state of denial, especially when you show any sort of romantic interest in another.

●You're hers,

●You've made her believe that,

●Or were you just stringing her along this whole time?

"No, she loves me, and I love her. No one can get between us, not even the petty blond chatting her up. She'll come to me, just wait and see"

Lisa- Harmless type

●Lisa could never hurt you.

●She's never thought of it, nor has she ever attempted it either.

●Her muscles would clench and stiffen at any sudden movement, giving her the disability to hit.

●She loves you dearly, and would try so hard to become your girlfriend.

●But she'd never harm anyone to get to you.

●If you were dating someone else, she'd accept it, but it wouldn't stop her from low-key obsessing over you as a "friend"

●But if you weren't dating someone and were open to the idea of a relationship, she'd slither her way in slowly.

●She'd be shy but confident at the same time.

●She'd stutter, but hold eye contact.

●She'd stumble, but hold great posture.

●Lisa would constantly seek out "friendly" hugs,

●This way, she could adopt your scent for a while.

●Everything about you just makes her smile.

●You make her weak.

"She's just so cute!! I just- I just... Ahh!"

208 notes · View notes

dingochef · 9 months

Text

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x You (OFC)

Warnings: Swearing, Smut (MDNI 18+ Only), Stalking, P in V, oral (female and male receiving), Semi-public sex, light spanking, light bondage, blindfolds, shitty parents

Summary: Your family comes to town for Christmas. Your sister is awesome, your dad is pretty good, but your mom is a whole nother level. Thank God Jake's by your side through it all.

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Chapter 13

Word Count: 3.4k

Chapter 14: On the Level

December after the ball rolls by quickly and it seems like you've blinked and it's December 23, the day your parents and sister are due into San Diego for Christmas.

Jake has picked up on your increasing anxiety as their arrival date got closer. He, as usual, has been supportive and understanding,

"Babe, we'll get through this, together."

You're holding his hand as you wait for them at the restaurant you agreed to meet for dinner at. As you wait for them to appear, you're recalling the phone call when you let your parents know that Jake and you were living together.

You called your mom's cell,

"Hello, Elsa, what's up?"

"Hey Mom, just calling to catch up. How are things in Michigan?"

"It goes, we're almost done cleaning out the house to put it on the market, did you get all those trophies and stuff?"

"Yeah, they made it to the house. So, I've got some good news."

"Oh really, did you get a promotion at work?"

"Nothing on the work front, Jake and I have moved in together, in my house, so more accurately, Jake has moved in."

You were nervous and babbling for some reason.

"Jake….oh, yeah, your boyfriend. I'm sorry I forgot his name. The Navy pilot guy, right?"

You rolled your eyes at your mom's lack of caring to remember the details of the only relationship you've told your parents about in the last five years.

"Yes, Jake, my serious boyfriend of seven months," you answered.

"Don't you think that's moving a little too fast? Plus, who's going to buy the cow if they're getting the milk for free?"

"No, Mom, I don't think it's moving too fast and do we really have to use that tired old cliche?"

"We'll, I'm just worried about you making the right choices for your life."

"Yup, the right choices. Mom, Jake loves me and I love him. He is a very good man who makes me happy. It's so obvious it's the right choice to move our relationship to the next level."

"Okay, honey, if that's how you feel about it. You thought you were making the right choice with Liam and all."

The residual anger that always underlines any interaction with your parents, specifically your mom, rose up. You took a deep breath and pushed it aside.

"Ouch, yeah I might have thought that, but I've got the experience and wisdom from a bad relationship to recognize a good one. I was just hoping that you'd be happy for me and not be all judgy about it."

"Fine, if you want me to be happy for whatever life choices you make, then I can be happy for you."

The way she said 'whatever' made you grit your teeth, like building a solid relationship with another human was a spur of the moment whim.

"Alright, Mom. I've got to go. Tell Dad I said hi. Love you."

"Love you, Elsa."

Your knee is bouncing up and down and you're fiddling with the menu trying not to down the fancy gin cocktail you ordered to calm your nerves. Jake speaks without looking over,

"You know, if at any point you want to bail on this, say the word and we're gone. Just because it's family doesn't mean you have to be miserable. You feel like you're going to explode."

"I don't know, I'm just nervous. For some reason I desperately want them to like you, not that most rational parents wouldn't, but these are my parents."

He looks at you,

"And, what if they don't like me? Think I'm the worst thing ever?"

You don't hesitate for a second,

"Then fuck 'em. If they can't see what an amazing person you are and how good we are together then that's their problem, not ours."

"See, you already have plans in case this goes sideways. El, at the end of the day, we still love each other and we are building a life together. None of that needs a parental stamp of approval."

"I know, but your parents love me. I get texts from your mom any time she sees something Michigan related. I just wanted to reciprocate that back to you."

"It's okay, El. This isn't a balance and ledger sheet making sure everything is equal all the time. If you're worried about it, you can just give me extra blowjobs to make up for your crappy parents."

His last sentence breaks you and you're laughing so hard that you tear up. You wipe your eyes and lean over and kiss Jake,

"Thank you for being the person who gets me. I think that might have earned you a few extra blowjobs."

Your moment is disrupted by the familiar sound of your sister's voice,

"Eww, Mom, Elsa's kissing her boyfriend,"

Lanie says in a mocking kid voice. You jump up and run to the other side of the table to give Lanie a hug.

"It's so good to see you, I missed you," you say as you give her a good squeeze. She looks past your shoulder and sees Jake.

"Introduce me, sis. I want to meet the guy I've heard so much about."

"Lanie, this is Lieutenant Jake Seresin, my awesome boyfriend. And Jake, this is my adorable little sister, Melanie, who prefers to go by Lanie, because she thinks it makes her sound cooler."

Jake reaches out a hand for a handshake, but Lanie just laughs.

"I know way too much about you for just a handshake,"

she says, pulling him into a hug. He shrugs and rolls with it.

Your parents have arrived at the table and you walk over to hug them.

"Hey, Mom and Dad, good to see you."

Jake moves around the table to meet them.

"Mom, Dad, this is my boyfriend Lieutenant Jake Seresin. Jake, my parents Don and Betty Matthews."

Jake gives each of them a handshake and says,

"Nice to meet you Mr. and Mrs. Matthews."

Your dad luckily is feeling social today,

"You can call me Don and she probably won't say it, but you can call her Betty."

Your mom gives your dad a little bit of side-eye for his comment.

You all sit down at the table. The cocktail menu is passed over to the newcomers and the server appears to take their orders.

You start the conversation by asking Lanie how her tattoo business is going. She used the inheritance from your aunt to start her studio in Chicago.

"It's going really well, we're actually expanding into space next to because we have so much demand and have a list of artists that want to be a part of our collective. You can see it when you come to Chicago for your next tattoo."

"I haven't settled on what my next one will be yet, I'll let you know when I do."

Your mom scoffs across the table,

"I'll never get the appeal of permanently scarring your body in the name of art."

The eye roll that Lanie and you return is perfectly synced.

"Mom, we've been through this before. If it's not your cup of tea then it's not," Lanie replies back before you can.

Your mom continues,

"Jake, what do you think of tattoos? Surely as a sailor you must have some."

Jake rolls with the question and you recognize that smooth confidence that can come across as the cocky Hangman sometimes.

"Aviator, I'm technically a Naval Aviator, not a sailor. And no, I don't have any tattoos. Yet. I appreciate the artistry and skill that goes into them. I think the ones Elsa has are very beautiful and have a lot of meaning to her."

You look over and smile at him for his answer. He reaches over to grab your hand under the table. The conversation lulls and you start it back up again,

"How's the condo search going?"

Your dad perks up and goes through the various locations that they've looked at and the problems with each which is enough conversation to get through ordering and a few minutes after.

Your mom enters the conversation with questions pointed at Jake, which puts you on high alert.

"Where did you grow up Jake?" she asks.

"Austin, Texas."

"Family?"

"The usual, two parents and one older brother."

"Where did you go to college?"

"The Naval Academy in Annapolis."

"I didn't think that was a real school, what did you study besides flying?"

"My bachelor's degree is in Mathematics with a focus on data analysis and statistics. I went through flight school and the aviation training program after graduation."

You joke,

"I think Jake might be one of the few people on earth that has taken more math than me."

Your mom drives through the small moment of humor like a bus,

"So, what does one do as a Naval Aviator?"

She pronounces every letter in naval and aviator.

"At the moment, I'm teaching at the Fighter Weapons School on North Island. I stepped back from active duty to be in one place with Elsa. Prior to teaching I was on various deployments around the world, providing air support for Navy operations."

"So, you gave up something as exciting as saving the world to settle down, interesting."

Your hand grips Jake's at her condescending tone. He rubs his thumb in soothing circles on the back of your hand in response. Before the comment can escalate the food arrives, you've never been happier for a mushroom risotto in your life.

Lanie jumps in after the group starts eating to deflect your mom's inquisition.

"So, Jake, what embarrassing stories do you want to hear about Elsa from childhood?" she asks, her face full of mischief.

Jake laughs,

"Any that you want to tell me."

Lanie proceeds to tell everyone about the time you made her a lightning proof suit out of aluminum foil, gave her a metal rod to hold, and sent her to stand at the top of the swing set during a thunderstorm to test it out. Luckily your mother had seen her before she became a human lightning rod.

"In my defense, it was a very rudimentary Faraday cage, which in principle could work to protect you from lightning,"

You offer trying to defend your childhood self.

Jake is laughing,

"You even tortured your sister like a little engineer, no wedgies for you. That was too pedestrian."

Dinner has finally wound down without any more interrogation from your mom. The plan is for your parents to go to the rental house and Lanie is going to go out with you and Jake for a drink and spend the night at your house. Everyone says their goodbyes and you get in your car with Jake driving and Lanie in the back.

The doors are barely shut when Lanie exclaims and pats Jake on the back,

"Congrats, you survived a round of dinner with our dysfunctional parents."

You look at Jake and he is looking at you with a concerned look,

"You okay, El?"

"I'm good, are you okay after that grilling in there?"

"You forget that I'm specifically trained in resisting torture techniques, which I've never had to use before tonight. Man, your mom is intense."

Lanie just snorts in agreement from the back seat.

"Let's go, I could use a margarita the size of my head and the Hard Deck isn't getting any closer, chop, chop, Jeeves."

"Yes, Madam," Jake replies in a cheesy French accent.

Soon you are parking at your house for the short walk to the Hard Deck. Jake and Lanie have been talking the whole time and are engaged in a lively discussion about naval tattoo history. You're a few steps behind them and it makes your heart full to see how well they get along.

Jake stops and waves his hand for you to catch up when he realizes you've fallen behind. You run up and take his hand and Lanie's hand and you practically skip the rest of the way to the Hard Deck.

The rest of the evening is fun, in the simple way a night out of drinking just the right amount is. Lanie and you tell stories from your childhood that leave Jake laughing so hard he is out of breath. You all end the night pretty early as you are due at the house your parents are renting for brunch and general hanging out for Christmas Eve the next day.

Lanie crashes on the futon in the extra room that you had already made up for her when you get home. Jake and you are in bed not long after.

December 24, Christmas Eve

The three of you wake up at about the same time and quickly suck down a pot of coffee. No one is hungover per se, but everyone is a bit sluggish. The coffee helps everyone get in gear. We all pile in your CR-V and drive over towards the rental house. You're about halfway there when Lanie gets a text.

"Mom says to get more champagne and orange juice if we want mimosas," she reports.

"I don't know about you, Lanie, but I think I'm going to need a gallon of mimosas to deal with our parents all day," you respond.

"10-4 on that idea."

There is a Ralph's grocery store conveniently placed so you pull into the parking lot. Jake hops out and runs in for the items. While you're waiting for Jake, Lanie speaks,

"Elsa, I just wanted to tell you that I think Jake is perfect for you and my god, you two are disgustingly in love. I'm happy you found someone who makes you happy."

You're sure you have a lovesick look on your face,

"Thanks, it means a lot to me that you guys get along."

Jake appears at the tailgate with shopping bags and loads up the car. You make the rest of the quick drive to the rental house.

You find your parents on the deck overlooking the bay reading.

"The intrepid trio has arrived,"

your dad stands up and announces. He takes the grocery bags and you all walk into the kitchen and dining area. Your mom has laid out a little breakfast buffet with various pastries, fresh fruit, and some yogurt and granola. We all take a small plate and get our fill. Your dad occupies himself with making up mimosas for the whole group. Everyone heads back out to the deck to sit and eat.

Your dad is feeling peppier today and starts the conversation out,

"So how's flying with the Navy these days, Jake? I imagine it's changed a lot since my day."

"Yeah, it sure has. El and I went to a historic fly-in over in Chula Vista and they had a few of the Phantom IIs from Vietnam on display. There's a lot of the same instruments, but man, has the technology changed. What was your call sign, Don?"

Your dad laughs and smiles as he thinks back to days long ago,

"Mitten, my squad made fun of me for doing the Michigan hand thing every time someone asked where I was from, and Michigan is the Mitten state, so that stuck as my call sign. Elsa said yours is Hangman, how'd you get that Jake?"

It's Jake's turn to laugh,

"The catapult broke on my first attempt to launch off a carrier so I ended up tangled in the line and hanging off the side of the carrier for an hour while they figured out how to get the plane back up and me out safely."

Your dad laughs,

"So that part hasn't changed, stuff breaking all the time."

Jake and your dad continue talking about their respective experiences in the Navy. After about an hour you propose a walk on the beach and Lanie and Jake are the only ones to agree to the offer. You make your way off the deck and down to the sand and take your shoes off. The sand is cool as it is December, but it's still pleasant.

You wander back in to see your parents reading on the couch inside, although your dad looks like he was napping more than reading. You sit down and your dad is quick to grab drinks for everyone. You settle in on an overstuffed loveseat next to Jake and contently sip on your gin and tonic while Jake drinks a beer. Your mother is having her standard cranberry and vodka, Lanie has gone with a beer, and your dad is also enjoying a gin and tonic.

The room is peaceful until your mom throws out a mortar shell of a question,

"Have you been in touch with Liam lately?"

You nearly choke on your drink,

"Liam, as in Liam fucking McAllister, ex fiance and general piece of human dog shit?"

Jake is snickering quietly next to you.

"Elsa, language, yes that one. He friended me on Facebook the other day and we exchanged a few messages. He's in the Dallas area and still single."

"That's a little weird to be Facebook friends with your daughter's ex, don't you think?"

"He was a nice young man, seemed good for you and on your level."

You look over at Jake and his eyebrows are about to take off from his forehead, he's raised them so high.

Lanie dives in before you can formulate a response,

"Mom, do we have to refresh your memory on what a terrible human being he is?"

"Fine, fine. I won't bring it up again," she finally relents.

The atmosphere of the room has shifted and for once your dad reads it correctly and launches everyone in a conversation about your cousins in Michigan and extended family in general. Jake and you talk about your trip to Texas and meeting his giant Italian family. Your dad laughs at your description of all the food and the heavy duty circuit breaker required for all the crock pots.

It's starting to get close to dinner time and you suggest takeout.

"People good with Chinese?" you ask and get enough nods that you pull up a menu on your phone and get the order put together and call it in.

You all hang out in the kitchen as you wait for the food to be delivered. Jake and your dad have dutifully kept your drink filled all day so you are feeling the right side of tipsy. Your dad asks,

"How is work going for you, Elsa?"

"Really good, just got notice that another patent was approved and even better the life support systems I've developed are going to be licensed to other manufacturers. So, I get to go to a conference and present on them in New Orleans in February," You look over to Jake,

"You should come with me, I'll give you the dates later."

"That's really awesome, kiddo. How many patents are you up to now?"

"23."

"That sure beats my four. You deserve it, Elsa, you've worked so hard to get where you are and I'm so proud of you."

You're a little shocked to hear the words out your dad's mouth.

Lanie laughs next to you,

"I'm loving this nerd competition."

The doorbell rings indicating your food is here. Jake and you go to the door to grab the bags. You lay it out on the kitchen counter and people serve themselves.

Lanie asks Jake,

"So, what places around the world have you been deployed to?"

"I was in Afghanistan,spent some time in the Philippines, Italy, and various states in the US including Hawaii."

"That's a difference, Italy versus Afghanistan," Lanie replies.

"A whole lot of different work too Italy was mostly NATO patrols and other routine stuff. Afghanistan was a lot more intense, providing air support to ground troops and actually engaging with the enemy."

He doesn't elaborate more, and you recall the story that Wolfie told you about getting shot down. You squeeze Jake's leg under the table to let him know you're there.

Dinner winds down and Jake and you say your goodbyes for the night and head back to your house. The moment you're in your house you flop on your couch on your stomach and let out a long sigh.

"Well, that wasn't as awkward and awful as I thought it was going to be, although my mom did throw a sneaky play in there mentioning she has friended Liam on Facebook. Also, what was that comment about him being on my level?"

You let out your frustration in one long verbal outburst.

Jake just pats you on the back as he heads to the kitchen.

"Your dad is pretty cool, your mom I can't get a read on,"

Jake replies. When you finally sit up he hands you a glass of water.

"My dad has always been a little more easy going, plus you two were bound to hit it off being Navy pilots. And by the way, I still can't get a read on my mom and it's been 30-something years, so don't worry about it."

He laughs,

"So, how about a cheesy Christmas movie? Like Die Hard, because you insist it's a Christmas movie."

"It is, it takes place during a Christmas party," you argue glad that Jake has distracted you with something less heavy than your mom.

"Fine, we can watch it because it is a classic piece of 80s cinema."

Jake pulls up the movie from one of the billion streaming services you have and soon you are cuddled up watching Hans Gruber fall off the Nakatomi Plaza.

Chapter 15

@kmc1989

@starswholistenanddreamsanswered

@mayhemmanaged

@callmemana

@dempy

@hangmanscoming

@lanie-k

@callsign-viper

@senjoritanana

@djs8891

@atarmychick007

@memoriesat30

@midnightmagpiemama

@mygyn

27 notes · View notes

xbunny-k · 2 years

Text

The Actor & I: PART SEVENTEEN – I Just Don’t Know How to be Single

This is part SEVENTEEN of a very long, SLOW BURN series on Austin Butler and a Production Assistant on set of Elvis (2022).

Masterlist here!

Another short one, but Part 18 will drop tomorrow ✨

Anything italicized is main character’s thoughts!

Warnings: Fluff, eventual Spoilers for Elvis (2022), mild language (If i missed anything, please comment so i can add!)

Tags: @manddor @pumkiinpasties @its-funny-til-its-not @karamelcoveredolicity @butlerstyles @feral4austinbutler @mirandastuckinthe80s @emilykolchivans @atombombbibunny @francescababy @starry-night-20 @yeetfack-blog @milaa24 @londonalozzy @xo-aurora @chaoticbilly @mamaspresley @sageskywalker (Let me know if you’d like to be added!)

Please, if you like this, share it, comment, like it and enjoy! xx

Panic rushes over me. I feel my face react without even thinking. They broke up? They’ve been together forever. Poor Aus. I grab his hand and look at him even though he’s looking down and say, “Aus, I’m so sorry. Are you okay?” He takes a deep breath and rubs my hand. The light changes and I continue forward, but still keep my hand in his.

I can tell he’s trying to think of what to say, and I whisper, “You don’t have to say anything, or you can just tell me anything you’re thinking or feeling. I’m here as your friend and if you just need to get things off your chest, I’m here, Aus.”

I can see Austin relax a bit and he squeezes my hand a bit. “We’ve been fighting a lot. And I’m about to just through myself into work like I never have before, and it just feels like it’s too much. We were only fighting the last few weeks. There’s been no easy times. I’m not giving up, but I just don’t feel like I could keep on like that with all this work I’m about to put in both mentally and physically,” he says firmly, but almost as a whisper.

We come to a light and I look over at him. He looks serious and just so sad, almost defeated. “Aus, it’s okay to put yourself first. You know your limits and what you need in your life right now,” I say. He looks up at me as if he’s looking for something.

Did I not say enough? I don’t want to push him…but I want to offer support. Just try to stay neutral, Ana. If they get back together, you don’t want him resenting anything you said. “It’s just so hard. We’ve been together through so much… She encouraged me to go after Elvis. She filmed my initial tape,” he says in a defeated voice.

“I didn’t decide this on a whim, it’s been a longtime coming with us. I just wanted to end it so we can look back nicely at what we had. I don’t want to let the arguing be what we remember about each other,” he says quietly. I squeeze his hand and let go, “Hold on,” I say as I make a quick U-turn. I grab a spot and look over at Austin, “follow me, Aus.”

We both get out of the car and Austin looks confused. We climb down some rocks, and I head over to one of my favorite spots. When we get to the edge, I look back at Austin and he smiles, “This is perfect, wow.” He sits down and I join him on the rocky cliff as we look out over the dark ocean. There’s not a ton of lighting, so the ocean looks dark and a bit scary.

We sit in silence looking out at the Pacific Ocean, but eventually I look over at Austin and say, “It’s good to get out while you know you’re both ready for something new, but don’t dislike each other or have ill will towards one another.” I sigh and look back at the ocean. Austin lets out a deep breath and rubs my shoulder again. He looks over at me and moves a strand of hair out of my face.

What is that? Ana, stop blushing.

I try to calm myself down on the inside as I can feel my cheeks warming up. Austin says, “I just don’t know how to be single. I’ve been with her my entire adult life pretty much.” I smile at him, “This is the best time to learn. You’re about to go through the biggest moment of your career and while I know you’d love to have her there to share it with, but you’re gonna learn so much about yourself while on this journey. It may be the best time to be single.”

He smiles and pulls me into a side hug, “You always know what I need to hear, Anastasia.” Why do I love it when he says my full name? “I’m really happy I’ll have you as a friend while we’re working on the movie,” Austin says. Friend, Ana. A friend. You’re a co-worker and a friend, remember that.

“I can’t wait, Aus. It’ll be great. For both of us,” I giggle. Austin gets up and holds his hand out to me, “Now what do you say we pick up some food and get back into your version of Scrabble?” I smile and take his hand, “after you, Mr. Presley.”

#austin butler elvis #austin butler #austin butler fanfiction #austin butler x reader #austin butler fic #elvis #elvis 2022 #elvis movie #fan fic #fan fiction

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spymeister · 2 years

Text

Putting this under a cut, cause it’s some heavy shit. Warnings will be in the tag. Read at your own risk, babes.

As someone who has personally experienced different forms of PTSD- I think about Jazz having to deal with different forms of trauma with his profession. There are going to be things he’s never going to be able to tell anyone because of NDA’s and other gag orders. There are things he experienced that no one’s going to be able to relate to because he can’t say anything about them.

He’s maladaptive when it comes to coping, and for some things- he doesn’t cope at all. It’s made me wonder how an entire army of mechanisms like this on either side could even function for any length of time without going insane. Jazz’s mal-adaptive coping mechanisms are everything from deliberately throwing himself into danger with no thought to personal life and safety.

To attempting to find a connection through berth-hopping because he’s forgotten what intimacy and safety feels like.

Everyone sees a rather well adjusted individual- but it’s all a veneer. Underneath is a ball of anxiety, abandonment issues, non-deliberate cruelty, heavy institutionalization, forced conformity, and a certain amount of emotional trauma, abuse, and starvation. That’s not even combined with the verbal, mental, and physical abuse at the hands of others.

Then we add into the breach of self with interrogations designed to break individuals down without thought of how to build them back up. The violation of frame, self, and processor.

It just... makes me wonder how do you endure all of that, for years on end- and then come out still somewhat functional. It’s a goddamned miracle.

I experienced physical, emotional, verbal, and mental abuse at the hands of people I cared about. One was a parent, the other was a loved one at the time. I know what it’s like to be afraid- to have to schedule my entire life around the whims and temper of another person in the hopes I won’t get hurt, or my things won’t get broken, or I won’t be told how useless I am. I don’t know near the amount of abuse someone like Jazz has likely suffered in the times he’s been alive- even if it was done during war.

Combat PTSD is something I DON’T have, but I HAVE seen the effects of it- and lived with someone who had a raging case of it from six different tours of combat in six different battlefield situations. Playing a character like this, who very much has a very good-natured persona is interesting- especially when you start diving down into the meat of them.

If you’ve made it to the end of this tangent, I applaud you. I can’t even remember where this was going, other than just extrapolating my thoughts about the character and his experiences. And how often he might allow someone to see these little jaggedy edges that he holds- in the hopes they’ll stay despite them.

#I too #have abandonment issues #and I've had them for a while #because until my wife #no one ever stayed with me long term #not even my grandmother #and the SO we both shared #broke us down until we couldn't think without making sure we weren't going to upset them first #abuse mention #abuse talk #survivors of abuse talk #content and trigger warnings #content warning: abuse #trigger warning: abuse and domestic violence #etc #just a stream of chat thought #OOC - Jazzmun Speaks - OOC

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falling-pages · 3 years

Text

Bend the Knee: Kyoya x Reader

Thanks @ouranbound for the idea <3

“I fear I’ve been so busy planning our future that I did not give time to notice how they were exploiting your present."

Sometimes Kyoya's betrothed needs help adjusting from their commoner life to one of splendor.

Kyoya Ootori x gn! Reader

Genre: Fluff, established relationship, arranged marriage, Commoner! Reader

Warnings: None

“Quit.”

“What?”

“Quit. You complain about that job every night, so just resign.”

You sit up on the couch, gasping to even begin to make the young heir understand how preposterous his words were. He barely even noticed, just kept his eyes glued to his novel as you were having a crisis. Just another normal Tuesday in this household. “I can’t quit just like that, without two weeks’ notice.”

“The other employees did.”

“But I’m their best,” you scramble, “I can’t bail while they’re still looking for two more people.”

Kyoya scoffed, licking his fingertip and turning a page. “Is that how they treat their best? Overworked and underpaid? They don’t sound like very good bosses to me.”

“It’s not that, it’s…”

It was that. It was exactly that, which made his smug smile all the more frustrating, igniting that fire under your nails to just punch his lights out. But then you’d have to admit it’s bothering you, and he would win, and even though you were engaged to marry this man, you just couldn’t have that.

You ran your hands through your hair, dropping back down onto the couch. His office futon wasn’t comfortable in the slightest, perhaps to discourage relaxation during work hours, but it’s what you dealt with in order to spend time with him in the evenings, a change you would certainly implement once your name was on the deed and in the will--a revamp of his working space was imperative.

But you supposed you couldn’t complain. It was your little life together, where he manages a multi-billion dollar empire and you whine about your job, where he pretends to not pay attention while you spill your guts. What was the sense in commenting when he knew you wouldn’t take his advice?

“I’ve worked hard for this position,” you settle on, closing your eyes and letting your brain do the work. “I’ve climbed the ladder and gotten promotions and I used to feel so important, and it isn’t my dream job, sure, but I’ve enjoyed the process.”

“Then it’s time to move on to something different,” he suggests, and his tone is softer than usual, though still careful to sound detached. “You know I have more than enough money to provide for you and our family someday. Is that not enough?”

You open your eyes when the voice sounds closer, right above you, and you see him kneeling down beside you on the couch. You start to sit up, but he pushes you back down, helping you stretch out your spine, shake out the stresses in your limbs. And when he takes your hand, drawing his long fingers over the arch of your wrist and against your palm, you were startled to see him at eye-level.

Kyoya Ootori bent his knee to no one except you, and only once, when he slipped that pretty gold ring on your finger. But here where you lay, your faces were on the same level, and you felt like an equal.

“The world I come from isn’t black and white, Kyoya,” you say, as he strokes the back of your knuckles. Such tenderness was seldom seen from him, but you revel in it, grasp onto it with dirty fists and brazen recklessness. To have him so attentive to your needs and listening to you was rare. It was a privilege, a standard you would soon be held to, as well. “To be just...launched into fame because my dad won the lottery is hard, I still need to adjust. It can all be gone in a second, so I can’t just drop something. I can’t...sever the safety net. They need me to keep the place afloat, and even as tough as it has been, I can’t leave on such bad terms. They need me. Just for a little bit longer.”

He sighs your name like the afterthought of a prayer, settling his other hand beside you on the couch. His fingers dig into every indentation, as if joining your discovery of its stiff cushions. The sheen in his glasses signaled he’d look into it, but there were more pressing matters to attend to at the moment.

He remained silent, odd for a man with all the answers, but he continued to look at you, not like he was trying to drill a hole through your head, but like you were a puzzle he was just beginning to figure out.

“Have I really been so absent, my love?” he whispered, raising his hand to your face. One finger stroked along your cheek, slowly, lulling you into peace. “I fear I’ve been so busy planning our future that I did not give time to notice how they were exploiting your present. Please, forgive me.”

All of the air was knocked out of your chest as his gentle words, so soft that you almost didn’t recognize him. When your parents betrothed you, and when you fell in love with him, agreed to marry him, even, you knew that he would always be an Ootori, with every string attached. You were ready for the challenge, ready to be with this man no matter what--but his sudden kindness was unexpected, the poetic words unfamiliar in your ears.

“Kyo, you think I wouldn’t forgive you?” you ask, taking off his glasses.

He let you, and when you set them on the nearby stand, his dark eyes glittered with something you had never seen before. Deeper than love, deeper than compassion, a feral protectiveness mixed with sadness skating across his face. It was so rare you saw him without this shield of his, you had almost forgotten how his eyes were like galaxies, like the murky night sky, expansive, swallowing everything in its path.

“If I had been suffering so, I wouldn’t forgive my partner had they not noticed,” he said.

“I’m not suffering...”

“Mmm-mm.” He shuttered your lips closed with his finger, and you couldn’t help but return the affection and press a kiss to it. He smiled, softly, and you thought about how long it had been since you had seen that smile, and how long it had been since he’s seen yours, too.

“I know I’m not the best at expressing my feelings,” he said, and when you snorted, he rolled his eyes and leaned away. “See, this is exactly why.”

You leaned up and kissed his cheek, giggling. The feeling was foreign in the pit of your chest, drumming near your spine. “I’m sorry. Please, continue.”

“Thank you.” He cleared his throat, softly wiping where you had kissed him, a repetitive, soothing motion. “I’m not the best at expressing my feelings. I’ve been raised to think that if you throw money at something, it will go away. It’s a powerful position to hold, knowing you can change everyone’s fates on a whim, but…” he swallowed, breaking eye contact, and you felt his energy shift into something vulnerable. “But you changed that. You make me feel...you make me feel. And at first I didn’t like it. I loved you, but I didn’t like what you did to me. I didn’t like how you made my world shift off-balance, until I realized my world was no longer my family’s company or stocks or what other stiffs thought of me. It was you.”

You tried to lean up and kiss him, but he grabbed your hands and held them in his own. “Please, let me finish, I want...I want you to know. We’ve been betrothed for so long, but I’d like to think we were only truly engaged when I bowed to you with that ring.”

“Okay,” you breathed, shallowly, taking it in, squeezing his hands to help him along.

“Because that took everything in me,” he continued, and his voice shook, his hands shook, and all you wanted was to gather him in your arms and hold him till he relaxed. “I was raised as a superior, but I’m not. Not with you. You are my equal, and I love you, and there’s no future with us if I can’t look beyond my own problems to see yours.”

Your stomach quelled in light of his confession. The life of luxury and fame you had so recently come to know was a blur compared to his childhood swathed in privilege. Only six years ago you were waiting tables to save up for college when your dad bought a lottery ticket for the hell of it. Now you were attending charity balls and engaged to the son of the richest man on earth.

He took a shaky breath and kissed your forehead, seeming to only find the courage once his lips met your skin.

“I notice. I swear I do,” he said. “I tried to act disinterested when you vent to me because it was a protection, it was a way to stay cold, because that was all I ever saw from my mother and father. They were separate people who happened to live in the same house. That’s not us. I’m not my father. I swear I notice. I notice your tired eyes and your tense shoulders and your fake smile and I want to fix it, but I don’t know how, so I clam up. I shut down. And I’m sorry. I truly am, my darling. I don’t know how you put up with me.”

It was an absolute miracle that you could even breathe at the end of his speech, panting almost as heavily as he was. And when you leaned forward to kiss him, this time he didn’t object, but pulled you even closer, shrouding your body with his, his sharp scent overwhelming your senses, clouding the air around you, even when there was no distance between you. His mouth was hot with passion, yet reserved, and though it wasn’t the first time you kissed, it was the first time you thought he meant it when he told you he loved you.

“Kyoya, I love you,” you whisper against his lips. “I have for so long. I wouldn’t have stayed with you if I didn’t, no matter what our parents said.” He laughed, nipping your bottom lip lightly. “And I don’t want you to change for me. You’re under so much pressure, I understand why you act like you do. But our home isn’t Wall Street. My heart isn’t some business bargaining chip. You don’t need to fight your nature to love me. It’s one and the same.” One of his tears splashes down onto your face. “So just see me. Love me. Choose to be vulnerable. I promise it won’t scare me off.”

“I will. I promise.”

He kissed you again, burning his brand against your tongue, hard like a handshake to know he meant it. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him even closer, like you were breathing the same air, using the same lungs, the same heart beating in tandem.

When you let go, his forehead remained pressed against yours. His eyes were slightly open, watching you, eyelashes fluttering against your skin. He was so soft, like this. You wanted to hold him forever.

“Come to bed with me,” you whisper, trailing a hand through his hair. “I just want to spend time with you.”

He kissed your forehead, rubbing his nose against yours in compliance. “I’ll spend all the time in the world with you, beloved,” he sighed, capturing your lips once more. “For as long as you’ll have me.”

Kofi

#ouran high school host club #kyoya ootori #kyoya x reader #kyoya ootori x reader #ohshc

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gucciwins · 3 years

Text

Golden Sparks

Harry is new to town and signs up his eight-year-old daughter, Josie to the soccer team where he takes an interest in the well-respected Coach Y/N.

Word count: 25,027

A/N: Hello friends! I hope you’ve been well, honestly I had this idea for a while and it wasn’t until I stepped back from another piece and came back this one that it began to flow. im proud of what I wrote and I hope you enjoy. my longest piece to date :) I do hope you all love it.

Warnings: sweet dad harry, slight angst, slight smut

please do let me know what you thought of the story and please reblog! <333

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"You're going to do great."

"I know, dad." Harry's eight-year-old daughter responds.

"Hey, I'm being supportive." Harry shakes Josie's foot, causing her to laugh.

"Thank you, I'm excited. Honest." Josie puts her hand over her heart, making Harry's heart melt.

He hadn't seen his daughter smile this much since they found out about the tryout that was soon to start in fifteen minutes. He felt awful making her move from their home in Georgia, but it was time, and this new opportunity would be good for them. Josie hated to leave her friends but mostly her soccer team with whom she had been with since she started playing at the age of five, but Harry promised he would find her a team, and he did.

The team was different from back home, seeing as it was an all-girl team instead of a mixed team of boys and girls. Not that he minds; he feels this will hopefully allow Josie to branch out and make friends that would not pick on her for playing what they said was "a boy's game." Those parents pissed him off back in Georgia, but he's gone, and he prays this goes well.

"Do you think mom will visit my games more now that we're closer?" Josie's green eyes peer up at him, reminding him that she looks nothing like her mother and is his little clone.

"I hope so. She was excited to hear about the move, remember." Josie nods before glancing at the field where other girls were chatting as they laced up their cleats.

Harry despised his ex-girlfriend, the mother of his child. At the age of nineteen, he became a father, and his ex, three years older than him, didn't want to raise a child to a man who wouldn't marry her. They were together for two months when he called it quits until she came back a month later, calling him an asshole for getting her pregnant. After giving birth to his beautiful girl, she gave him full custody, not wanting to worry about diapers and night cries.

All she worried about was getting her figure back. It wasn't until Josie turned one that she came back and demanded to be part of her life, leading to them going to court and getting to see Josie on the weekends, and it went well because his daughter always came back happy after a visit. When Josie turned five, Claudia moved to California because she fell in love and was going to get married. Claudia didn't care that she was leaving Josie behind. A heartbroken girl not knowing why she couldn't be part of her mother's wedding and why she moved across the country so far from her.

Josie cried for a whole week straight until the ice skates showed up on the front door with a note from Claudia for Josie to chase her dreams. Thus, having Harry sign her up for ice skating classes came to an end in two short weeks when she learned how awful the leotards looked on her.

Josie was then determined to find a sport liking the idea of being active and having the chance to make friends, which led to her seeing soccer on the TV when a commercial of Alex Morgan for Nike came on. She asked question after question until Harry told her okay, and went to call a friend to see where he could find a team for her.

The first team they found was only boys, not wanting to mix, causing both of them to get upset, but a mom took pity on them and told them of the Sunnyville team looking for players. It was perfect; seven girls and eight boys were on the team, and Josie fit in perfectly until she didn't.

At first, Josie wasn't very good; no kid is, but Harry every night took her to their large backyard and practiced with her, and within a few months, she was able to dribble a ball at her feet without looking down constantly. She wasn't the best, but she was improving.

Harry enjoyed every minute he got to help her improve because within the next few years, he saw her go from being timid to push someone away from the ball to beating someone in a sprint.

California was a significant change for Harry and Josie, but this was a big deal for the company, and Josie understood. He was happy he could do something for her now it was her turn to shine and prove why she deserved a spot on the team.

"Now go prove why you're the best, petal." Harry kisses his daughter's forehead, taking her bag over his shoulder.

She takes a step forward before stopping. "Walk with me there, daddy."

Harry's smile softens, "Of course, honey."

They march forward, their steps in sync; Harry can feel eyes on both of them as they pass parents in their chairs, some sitting on blankets spread out on the grass.

There's a woman, dressed in black Nike sweats, some fancy Nike cleats on her feet and a plain maroon tank top and over to cover from the breeze is a windbreaker; the team logo on the left side over her heart and right under is a name he can't quite make out. If Harry's being honest, she took his breath away, she's gorgeous, and she's smiling at him. Harry's sure if he kept looking into her eyes, he would fall in love.

"Hello, I'm Coach Y/N." She greets them with a big smile on their face.

"Hi, I'm Josie, and this is my dad, Harry Styles." Josie steps forward, holding her hand out that the coach is quick to shake.

"Nice to meet you." Harry finally speaks.

"Nice to meet you, Mr. Styles. I've got all the paperwork that you submitted, and everything looks good."

"That's great." Harry nods, keeping his eyes on her. "Just Harry is fine, please." She nods, letting him know she heard him.

"Nice accent, you English?" Y/N asks.

"I am, Josie was born there too, but she's lived in the states all her life."

Y/N nods, "No wonder I didn't spot an accent on her." She teases.

"My dad sounds funny, so one of us is okay." Josie jokes at Harry's expense.

"Hey now," Harry pouts, causing both to laugh and his heart to flutter, wanting to make Y/N do it again.

"Now, Josie, how about we introduce you to the girls before we get started."

Josie nods and steps forward to follow Y/N.

Y/N addresses him one last time, "You're welcome to sit by the parents or welcome to stand behind our bench on the sidelines."

"Thank you." Harry watches the walk away, his daughter's bright pink socks standing out around the flash of black, green, and blue. He smiles, knowing he'll have a good eye on her, as will the coach.

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It has been a while since the team had a tryout for the Golden Sparks team. It has not been necessary because most of the young girls are already on the u-9 team.

She had heard the rumor of new people moving into town but wasn't sure, so on a whim, she added them up in places parents were bound to see them; at the grocery store, doctor's office, the school, and the local sports store.

Thanks to the flyers, they got two responses from Mr. Styles and Mrs. Clover, who wanted their girls to join. Mrs. Clover's daughter, Caitlyn, was switching over from a different team, so she knew the girls on the team well. Josie, the daughter of Mr. Styles, would be the only one who needed an introduction as she was new to the town.

After meeting Harry, she was surprised at how handsome and young he was. Most parents here are well over the age of thirty and are married or dating.

She has been coaching for four years now and only started because of her niece Juliet who is part of the team. Y/N's older sister, Clara, had Juliet at 23 a year after her wedding and when Y/N was only 18 and about to start university. It was a good thing she had decided to go to university only three hours away and not across the country as she first thought, or she would have missed so much of her niece's and goddaughter's life.

Y/N had just graduated and knew she would no longer be playing soccer and needed something to do when her sister Naomi approached her and asked her if she could watch over Juliet for the summer so they didn't need to get a babysitter. She was more than happy to accept.

At first, they would paint, color and dance, but they got bored quickly. Y/N wasn't one to spend her time inside, so instead, she decided to take her four-year-old niece to the park with a soccer ball and make the most of it.

At the local park, they both ran around each day, chasing the ball for hours. A week later, Y/N bought Juliet her first pair of cleats, letting her shoot in the nets. As the weeks went by Y/N, saw Juliet improve as well as take direction well. She was a bright young girl, and Y/N knew she was still small, and all she wanted to do was run, but Y/N knew that because Juliet had seen her play, she knew what was right and wrong. There were times when she just ran in circles picking flowers because, after all, she was a four-year-old.

A month into summer, a mom approached her, asking her if she was a coach because she saw her there every day. Y/N laughed it off and told her she was just taking care of her niece. The mom told her it was a shame because her daughter told her it looked like fun. Y/N smiled and said to her that she was welcome to join, and before she knew it, a bunch of little girls came together to kick a ball around.

Only when Y/N had over ten girls showing up every Monday and Wednesday at a designated time did she begin to look at soccer leagues for children, and to her luck, there was one in town, an all-girls league that started from age 4 to age 18. She got the paperwork required for her to be a coach and for the girl's parents to fill out. She pitched the idea, and everyone was aboard.

That is how Golden Sparks was created, and those four-year-olds are now eight. She has watched them grow in front of her eyes. She went through her master's coaching a team. It's just something she does as a hobby, and it's wonderful because she knows how vital her coaches were for her when she was growing up. Now she can do the same.

She loves these girls, which means she had to do trial runs for how well the new girls fit in with the team dynamic. That is why today is an important day for Caitlyn and Josie.

"Ladies, may I please have your attention?" Y/N calls out to all the girls trying to juggle their individual balls as they wait for her.

The girls quickly shuffle over, passing their balls to Kate, who is setting up both nets and getting out the bright pink pinnies that Emilia's parents donated to the team that the girls will be needing.

Josie is standing very close to Y/N, and Caitlyn comes to stand to her other side.

"Now, today's practice is going to be different. We have two guests today. We have Caitlyn, who comes from Ice Angels from across town, and Josie, who comes from Georgia all the way across the country. I hope you will be kind and welcoming because we would be honored to add them to the team."

Juliet raises her hand and smiles, waiting for Y/N to let her speak. "Yes, Miss Juliet," Y/N giggles.

"Can we say something interesting about ourselves when we introduce ourselves?"

"Now, that is a smart idea. I wish I would have thought about it." All the girls smile, waiting for her to share.

"I'll start, I guess." She puts her hand on her hip, exaggerating her thinking face. "My name is Y/N, and I'll be your coach, and something interesting is that I like to paint." She turns to Kate, who is standing there, arms crossed. "You're next."

"I'm Kate, the meaner coach,"

"Kate," Y/N chastise.

"Kidding," Kate laughs, capturing all of the girls' attention. "I'm the assistant coach, and I love making tamales. Next potluck, you'll know how amazing they are."

Kate volunteers Steph, standing next to her, allowing her to share, and before she knows it, all the girls have gone. It's a calm environment, and Y/N is happy she can help these girls be a part of that. There were a total of fourteen girls, sixteen now with the two new girls trying out, meaning they would have even teams of eight, just one more than in an actual game.

Y/N makes two teams by dividing her forwards, midfielders and defenders. Then the scrimmage vest were handed out to the team where the new girls were trying out.

"Four twelve-minutes quarters," Y/N shouts, and in the next second, Kate blows the whistle, and they begin.

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Harry was sweating, his focus was on Josie and how well she was playing, but he also noticed how the coach was whispering to her assistant coach. They were doing a lot of talking, and he did not like it one bit. They had finished two quarters and took a more extended break before the third, where Josie shot him a thumbs up after drinking water. She was too busy talking to a girl to come see him. Harry was happy she no longer felt nervous and was making friends.

He had heard nothing but good things about Golden Sparks and their coaches, but he was nervous about what they thought of his daughter. When they blew that final whistle, Harry let out the breath he was holding. Thankful that Josie would be told her fate on the team.

The coaches rounded them up, and Harry just wanted to rush over there and have them tell him there and then, but no, they were dragging it out for him. Then again, they had more than one player to look after for.

"Golden Sparks!"

It was shouted out by all the girls, and they rushed over to their bags. Josie walked to her bag, handing her pinnie to the assistant coach while Coach Y/N made her way over to another parent. A young girl with a long french braid made her way to the coach, most likely to talk about her fate on the team. Harry moves his gaze away from them when he spots Josie chatting away to a girl about her age, wearing a black top with the team's logo on it. Usually, after practice, she rushes over to Harry, and she slips out of her cleats in the car. It makes him emotional seeing her make friends, something she didn't have many in her previous team.

Before he knows it, the coach talks with Josie and the other young girl before she nods and gets up, swinging her bag over her shoulder. The three of them make their way over to Harry, chatting softly, not allowing him to hear a word.

"Hi, petal. Did well out there." Harry tells his daughter once she's an arm's length away. He frowns when she doesn't rush into his arms to give him a hug.

"Yeah, it was fun. Everyone is so kind." Josie smiles at her father.

"Mr. Styles," Y/N begins, but Harry has to interrupt.

"Harry, please."

"Sure, Harry," she emphasizes. "Josie is a wonderful player."

"I agree."

"But," Harry frowns, knowing this is not going where he would like it to. "Josie tends to hold the ball too much. When given the opportunity to use her left, she takes that extra pass to switch to her right where it causes her to lose momentum and the opening."

"I get it, she's not perfect, but neither are those players out there."

"Dad." Josie gives him a glare to be quiet and listen.

"As I was saying," Coach Y/N, her voice just a bit less friendly. "She has flaws, but we noticed she has lots of speed; she controls the ball really well. She's stellar in the midfield."

Harry shifts his eyes to Josie, who is holding back a smile, and that is when he knows she's in. "We'd love to have her join the team and help her become an even better player."

"That's wonderful, I accept."

"I'm sorry, Harry. I'm glad you think it's a good idea, but it's Josie's choice to make."

"You're right. I'm sorry. Josie, honey." He steps back, a tad embarrassed.

Josie lets out a nervous laugh, "I had fun."

"How long have you played?" Y/N asks Josie.

"Three years now," Josie says, looking at Harry for confirmation and nods.

"The most important question is how you felt playing with everyone?" Y/N knows how important feeling welcomed to a team can mean to someone.

Josie looks up at her, a smile on her face. "Like I belonged."

"Does that mean you're joining?" The young girl standing behind Y/N answers.

"Yes. I would love to join." Josie says, a grin taking over her face.

"Well then, welcome. Practices are 5-7pm. Sometimes we can have a scrimmage with other teams, and it will be an hour before or after just to take that into consideration. Games are on Saturday, but when we have tournaments, they are Saturday and Sunday."

"That's great. I sometimes get out of work late." Harry confesses.

"It's why practices are later because we know parents work. So just shoot us a text the day before or early morning, and either Kate or I can pick them up as well as other parents. We're great with carpooling."

Harry smiles; he likes how organized they are. He has no worries about Josie joining the team. He's happy, and if he's honest, he is kind of glad to see more of Coach Y/N.

"It was great to meet you, and I'll see you on Monday for practice," Y/N tells both Harry and Josie.

As they are going to walk away, the young girl in two dutch braids speaks, "Auntie Y/N truly is the best. She's the reason I play so well." Juliet tells Harry.

Y/N blushes, "Knock it off. Save the sweet-talk for Kate."

"She's your aunt!" Josie explains. "That's so cool."

"Harry, this is Juliet, my niece and the reason this team exists. I introduced her to the sport at age four."

Juliet nods, "Yeah, because she didn't want to rotten my head with television."

This causes all of them to laugh. Harry and Josie walk away with a smile on both their faces.

Yeah, they would fit just right in. It was beginning to feel like home.

⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️

It's been a month since Josie joined the team, and he's never seen her shine as much as she has since she joined the group. It's like she's a whole new little girl, he hates to admit it, but his little girl is growing right in front of his eyes.

They had recently had a team bonding; they headed to Kate's house to swim and do a little bonfire. Parents were allowed to stick around, but almost none did because they want their daughters to feel comfortable hanging out with their friends and be themselves. Also, all the parents trusted Kate and Y/N with their daughters because of the years of friendship.

Harry wanted to stay the first time, a bit fearful she wouldn't like it and also because he wanted to get to know Josie's coach better. He hadn't had many chances to chat her up, always getting a formal greeting and a goodbye. Harry can proudly say he has a crush on coach Y/N, but he wants to have a chance to take her out and maybe take it further.

Josie begged and begged him not to stay, so he just did a quick hello and then left. What did he do in the four hours his daughter was gone, nothing. He was bored without her. Harry began to watch a movie he'd been dying to see, but it was boring. He went to call his best mate, but it went straight to voicemail, then remembered it was date night for Mitch.

He couldn't drink because he wanted to pick Josie up even though he knew she could carpool, but he wanted to hear all about it right away and maybe get one more glance at Y/N because she looked lovely in her pastel pink shirt, black leggings, and a matching scrunchie. His feelings only grew each time he saw her, but he wouldn't dare pursue anything because his daughter adored Y/N, and he wouldn't do anything to wreck that.

It was Monday, and he was driving his daughter to practice. She was on a high because she spent the weekend with her mom. Claudia managed to make her soccer game and then took her home for the week. Everyone got an insight of his ex and how she was not the kindest, but sure did adore her husband by the way she kissed him the majority of that game. Harry did not want to sit next to them, but she wanted to flaunt her relationship in his face to his luck. Not that he cared one bit, he just cared about his daughter's happiness. That she happened to be a part of.

After they won the game, she sprinted over to them after Y/N congratulated them on the win, and they finished shaking the other team's hands. Josie wrapped her arms around Harry, squeezing him tight before hugging her mother, who just patted her back before letting her go congratulating on her goal.

Claudia's interactions with Josie always made Harry upset, but what was he to do? She gave him full custody and only saw her on weekends. It was easy living, but that doesn't mean he had to like it. He wanted his daughter to have a mother figure to guide her and show her the right and wrong to show her what it is like to be strong and resilient, yet Claudia was none of that for his daughter. Sarah, Josie's godmother, did more of that, and Harry was thankful.

Showing up to practice, Harry was embarrassed and hoped Y/N didn't bring up meeting his ex-girlfriend. Josie was quick to introduce them, but thankfully the conversation didn't last long as she was called over by the other team's coach.

"Can you drive any slower?" Josie pouted, looking out the window as Harry entered the parking lot at a safe speed in case any person happened to cross in front of him.

"Josie, I'm not trying to run anyone over." Harry sighs as he finally eyes an open parking space and signals left, always cautious about an accident.

"Well, I want to talk with my friends before practice." Josie has unbuckled herself and is close to throwing herself out of the car.

Harry puts the car into park, unlocking the car door. "Fly, young one."

The grin that takes over Josie makes Harry happy. "Love you, dad."

"Love you too, Josie."

Harry slides his sunglasses on, hating how bright the sun was; it'd be a few hours until the sunset. He was nervous; he was dressed in black slacks that hugged him in all the right places with a mint button-down shirt that calls attention. He didn't have time to change today; everyone saw him in his casual clothes, never his work attire. Josie said she didn't mind, but he did. Honestly, he was nervous about what Y/N might say about his look. Not that he cared what she thought. Not one bit, right?

He went to his trunk, got out his purple folding chair, and left the matching one there. Harry is a sucker for deals which is why he walked out of the store with two when he only needed one.

He strolled, making sure no eyes were on him, and he was in the clear until he heard a shout, "Dad!" He looked over at the field, and it was Josie waving at him to sit closer to the parents. Harry shot her a thumbs up; he liked the parents genuinely. They have all been so kind and welcoming, telling him the best places to go for the team's discount.

He got along well with Payton's and Stephanie's parents. They had a good sense of humor and liked asking him questions about where he was from and how Josie was growing up. His daughter had become best friends with Juliet. They were two peas in a pod, talking from the beginning of practice to staying almost ten minutes after as they slowly took off their cleats.

Y/N didn't mind seeing as she had to pick up everything, and the girls were eager to help her if it meant spending more time together. Honestly, she was begging for a sleepover, but he kept telling her no because he wanted to meet at least one of her parents first. He wasn't sure what either one did, but Juliet didn't mind if they couldn't make it to a game because her biggest supporter was already there.

Harry approaches where all the parents sit under a shaded tree, waving at everyone before taking a seat next to a man reading on his kindle. He smiled, knowing he loved reading in his downtime as well. This would be an excellent spot to sit, conversation or not he'd be comfortable, but first, an introduction was needed.

"Hello, don't mean to bother you, but I don't think I've seen you before. I'm Harry Styles. My daughter Josie joined the team last month."

"Well, Harry Styles, it's a pleasure to meet you. I've heard wonderful things about your daughter. I'm Xavier Torres, father of Juliet." Xavier responded with a bright smile on his face.

Harry doesn't hide his surprise. "I've been dying to meet her parents. She's a wonderful girl, glad our daughters decided to get along."

"Yeah, we come as often as we can, but Juliet always assures us she's fine. That she has the best auntie watching over her."

"Coach Y/N is great with everyone. I've never seen anyone so dedicated." Harry shares.

"She's always been like that. I met Clara in my second year of university. She was only fourteen then, but she was so caring. I wasn't introduced to the family until we've been dating for six months, and she was shy but always offered me water or cookies she had baked. I loved having conversations with her; she has always been the smartest person in the room."

Harry grins; this definitely grew his crush on Y/N.

"I hear they are begging for a sleepover," Xavier comments, breaking Harry from his thoughts.

Harry nods, "Yes, I kept saying no because I wanted to meet the parents."

Xavier smiles, agreeing they were the same. "Yeah, we had to meet the dad."

He's shocked Xavier doesn't ask him about a partner, but then again, Y/N could have easily mentioned meeting Claudia and her husband. Harry's grateful if she did not like having to explain how he's a single dad and how he wishes his daughter's mother would do better.

"Well, now that this has happened, I have no problem with a sleepover happening."

"Glad we're on the same page." Harry laughs, grateful, their daughters will be happy with them.

Harry and Xavier spend the entire two hours of practice talking. Harry has close friends, but he wouldn't be opposed to adding Xavier to his guys' nights that happen less frequently now. At the end of practice, they exchange numbers and promise to coordinate a date for the girls. It may be summer, but the girls are still keeping busy during the week instead of doing nothing.

The girls rush over to them at the end of practice, giggling at the two fathers still chatting away.

"Does this mean a sleepover can happen?" Juliet asks, squeezing Josie's hand she's holding.

Harry and Xavier share a look and nod. "Yeah, it can happen."

"Amazing!" Josie cheers jumping up and down.

"We have to plan a day that works for both of us, so it may be a while." Josie frowns but nods. Juliet does not accept it.

"Auntie Y/N can host it."

"Your auntie is going to do what?" Y/N says, sneaking up behind her tickling her sides.

Juliet lets out a loud shriek, not being able to escape her grip. Harry beams at Y/N loving how playful she is with her niece.

"You can host our sleepover. You aren't busy like daddy and Mr. Styles." Juliet says in one breath after Y/N let her go.

"I do have a job, you know," Y/n says in a sing-song voice. Xavier laughs as Juliet pouts. "But I do have more availability than your parents. I'd do it if both of you were comfortable with it." Y/N looks up at Harry and Xavier, letting them have the final say.

Xavier throws an arm over Y/N's shoulder and pulls her in a hug. "Of course, it's a yes; I'm always looking forward to a kid-free house."

"Rude, daddy." Juliet frowns, crossing her arms.

"Only joking, my little flower. How about frozen yogurt on the way home?"

"You're forgiven."

Y/N waits patiently for Harry to answer as he has a staring contest with his daughter.

He sighs, "Yes," Josie cheers, hugging Juliet. "Only if we're really not imposing on Y/N."

"Please, Harry. I'd be honored to have them over. I'm an excellent host, and my movie collection is amazing."

Juliet smiles. "She does, also the biggest backyard so we can run around and do whatever. There's also a pool." She whispers the last part.

"Enough speaking about my house. She'll get the tour soon enough."

"So it's settled," Harry tells them.

"Guess it is; send me when you guys decide. I'm free after twelve on Fridays, and I'll take them to the game on Saturday, of course, or we can do it after a game. All up to you, gents." Y/N gets it all out there, allowing Harry to breathe a little easier.

"Good," Xavier shouts.

"I'm going home, coming Julie?" As Xavier swings his chair over his shoulder. "Daddy, you have to help auntie Y/N. You just sat on your butt for two hours."

"Hey now, I watched you practice."

"I'm going to tell mommy, you know how she feels about you not helping Y/N. She'll give you an earful." Juliet sasses her dad.

"I don't know where you got all that sass from, but I know I'm going to hate it when you're a teenager," Xavier mumbles as he goes to get the goal nets put away.

Y/N laughs before turning to Harry and Josie, "I'll see you both on Wednesday. Have a good night."

Harry watches her walk away as she races Juliet over to the balls scattered around. He smiles at the ground, hoping he could one day make her laugh that much. He doesn't notice Josie watching him, and she grins, happy that maybe one day her daddy will smile as bright as Xavier does when speaking about Juliet's mom.

They walk hand in hand to the car, both comfortable walking in silence for what the future might bring them.

⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️

Y/N enjoyed morning games as opposed to the afternoon, where the sun was blazing high. She had a hat that was helping with the heat, thankful she hadn't started sweating yet. She loves coaching, but during the summer, it isn't the most enjoyable.

"Hi, Coach Y/N."

She turns her head over her shoulder and sees Harry approaching. She checks him out, thankful for her sunglasses; he's got a black short-sleeve button-down that shines in the sunlight, letting her know it's expensive; he paired it with white linen pants and the beat-up Vans he always wore. He always looks good.

"Nice to see you, Harry."

"How are you?"

"Doing good, bracing the summer heat."

"Yeah, not so enjoyable."

"Ready for the game," Harry says, pointing to the field that will soon have fourteen girls running around.

"Yes, they have been working hard. I'm excited, and you?"

"Oh, nervous," he confesses.

"The girls are going to do great. If they start dozing off, then we can start to worry."

Harry laughs, knowing that she is right. It's about the girl's focus.

"How long did you play?"

"Too long." Y/N jokes.

"Haha," he laughs.

"I started at six and played up until I finished university."

"Wow! You must have been marvelous." Harry is amazed that someone can play a sport that long then go to teaching. He was never the most athletic, but he was a beast at ping-pong that was all hand-eye coordination.

"I would like to think I was good."

"You started coaching when?"

"The year I turned four, and soon enough I was running, and by four she bought me my cleats and bam! A team was created." Juliet answered for her.

"I'm pretty sure you told Harry this already." Y/N laughs playfully, nudging Juliet.

Juliet shrugs, "Just like reminding."

Y/N grins, "Okay, lovebug."

"Plus, you're a great coach."

Harry nods. "I can attest to that. All the girls love you, including Josie."

"And I love them," she tells him truthfully. "We don't get many new players, but we're happy to have Josie. She earned the starting spot as right-wing."

Juliet nods, jumping up and down, "Yeah, she's really good."

"Go on, start the girl with four corners." Y/N pats Juliet's back to get her to go on the field.

"Yes, ma'am." Juliet takes off running, talking to Kate, who helps her get started, and Y/N knows it's her cue to walk away from Harry.

"Good luck, coach."

"Thank you, Harry. See you after."

"Sure, of course. I'll be cheering for you. I-i-i- what-" Harry stutters while she stands there holding back a smile as she can see the heat traveling up his face. "I mean you and the girls. A-all as a team."

"Well, we appreciate it."

Harry watches her walk away, letting out a short laugh, not being able to believe he made a fool of himself.

The game was tied 1-1 with only eight minutes left. Harry could see Y/N was calm, voice firm when speaking to the girls. Lola was about to take a corner kick, he saw her take a step back, and Harry was ready for her to strike it, but instead, she shocks him as she passes to a player who ran up to her.

This startles the other team before Brenda sends it to the center midfielder, who passes it to Josie, who is screaming she's open. Brenda sends a through ball, and off his daughter runs. She gets a foot on it, looking at where the goalie stands. She makes the pass strong enough that the goalie doesn't stop it and just for Andy to tip it in, but it's too strong, causing the ball to go over the net. It's a miss but, everyone didn't mind impressed with the play.

The last few minutes were slow as both teams were tired out, and there was no chance for another goal in two minutes. When the referee blows the final whistle, all the girls bring it in, jogging over to Y/N and Kate as they all round up in a group hug. Harry can't hear what she's saying, but he knows it's reasonable considering all the girls are sporting similar smiles. He is quick to pack up his chair, ready to say goodbye to his daughter, who is about to have a sleepover with her coach and best friend.

The girls come back from clapping the other team's hand and are quick to go sit on the bench and take their shoes off. The clean-up was accomplished quickly today. Harry is waiting to talk to Y/N as she speaks with other parents. Caitlyn's dad praises her for that play, but Y/N is quick to tell him it was all the girls; they are the players. Either way, he hugs her, and Y/N pats the older man back softly. She waves goodbye to most girls when he finally gets to approach her.

"Great game today."

"Yes, they played well." Y/N agrees.

"Your coaching reflects on them."

"In a good way?"

He nods, "The best way."

She thanks him, and he knows she's not one to be boastful, so he changes the conversation.

"You are still good to take them for the sleepover."

"Of course, I'm excited."

"That's great. What time should I pick her up tomorrow?"

"Oh, I forgot to mention earlier, my sister and brother-in-law are coming to have dinner if you'd like to join us. Xavier has been dying to use the grill, and you'll get to meet my sister and my nephew."

"Juliet never talks about a brother."

Y/N chuckles, "It's because he barely started walking, so he doesn't hold much of her attention."

"Ah, that makes sense."

"She loves being a big sister, but only when he sleeps or plays blocks."

"Older siblings got to love them."

"Yeah, I know."

"Do you have a sibling?"

"I do. She's 35 and lives in London and runs a law firm. Total badass."

"I bet she is."

"If she ever stops and visits, please bring her around and would love to get all the dirt on young Harry Styles."

"Only if I get to do the same."

"Stop by Sunday, and you'll get the chance." She shrugs at him as she walks away.

"See you Sunday then." Harry shakes his head smiling as she grabs a bag of soccer balls and begins walking to the parking lot.

Josie runs over and gives him a big hug. "See you tomorrow, daddy."

"Bye honey, call me if you need anything."

"Sure, I love you." She yells as she runs to Y/N and Juliet, who are waiting for her at the end of the grass.

Harry knows she's in good hands, but his heart can't help but miss his little girl. He'll see her tomorrow and Y/N as well. He ignored how hard his heart was thumping at his interaction with Y/N instead of letting himself get lost in the idea of the beautiful afternoon that was to come tomorrow.

⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️

Y/N had a great time with the girls. She promised she would let them do their own thing and just supervise, but both girls wanted her involved. As soon as they arrived at her house, Juliet gave Josie a tour of her home, taking her room to room before they ended up in the backyard, both dressed in their bathing suits to go swimming.

She couldn't help but laugh, knowing how eager they were to go jump in the pool despite playing an intense game for an hour in the blazing sun.

"You little ladies must eat first before you can even think of swimming," Y/N says, arms crossed over her chest, knowing Juliet was going to try to fight her on it.

"Auntie, that's not what we want to do."

"Maybe so, but your tummy's say otherwise."

Josie steps over from behind Juliet to stand next to her. "I would like to eat. Dad says we need to regain all the energy we worked off."

"Your dad is a smart man, Jo." Y/N nods to the girl. "It's a 2-1 vote, then."

"Fine," Juliet groans dramatically.

The girls sit at the table as Y/n begins to boil pasta. She decides on pesto as she has had a craving, and both girls happily agree. In just thirty minutes, she serves the girls two even plates, and they have a flowing conversation. Mainly, Josie and Juliet do the talking, occasionally asking YN her opinion or a question they want her to answer.

After the late lunch, she sends the girls to wash up and meet her outside to lather them in sunscreen. She puts most of her dishes in the dishwasher and soaks her pans in water, wanting it to be easier to wash later when the girls give her a free moment.

"Thirty minutes we are waiting," Y/N tells them, the sun lotion bottle in hand.

"Come on, you believe in that?" Juliet asks.

"Okay, little miss rebel, since when do you always question everything I say." Juliet's eyes go wide, and she shrugs.

"Alright, listen. I adore you, Juliet, but it's not nice trying to take advantage of me because you have a friend over."

Y/N waits for her to say something, but she nods her head and moves to hug her around her waist. She hears her mutter a sorry, and when Y/N brushes her hair back, she sees Juliet move back to look up at her. "I'm sorry."

Y/N gives her a small smile. "It's alright. Now sit down so I can get your back."

Josie patiently waits her turn, and just as Y/N finishes Juliet, she speedwalks to the edge of the steps and sits on them, letting her feet get soaked. Josie sits patiently as Y/N spreads the sunscreen to her shoulders, then turns her to get her face and neck, allowing Josie to rub it into her legs.

"All done, Josie." She stays seated on Y/N's patio chairs under the shade. Y/N doesn't question her not wanting to make her feel uncomfortable.

"Is it okay if I go join Juliet?" Josie asks in a soft voice.

Y/N almost awes out loud at how polite Juliet is, "Of course, go on. I'll let you know when it's okay to go in."

Looking out at the spacious yard, Y/N frowns, getting lost in thought about how she has the perfect home, but it gets lonely. It might be time she looks into getting a pet. She'll have to go check the local shelter soon but knows she should think about it for a while longer.

The ringer of her phone tears her out of her head when she hears the splashing, "Is it, time auntie?"

"Yeah, sweetie, it is."

Quickly she swipes three pairs of goggles from the table just as she begins to hear their splashing paired with laughter.

"Are we playing mermaids, auntie?" Josie asks as Y/N steps into the water, relaxing in the cool water, not suffering from the heat.

"We sure are," Y/N raises the three goggles and hands over one to each of them.

It's after two hours that they all emerge from the pool, deciding to head into the shower seeing as the sun has begun to set. She ushers them carefully to the shower letting Josie use the guest room and Juliet her room seeing as they are the only two rooms fully equipped with towels and shampoo.

After the three of them are clean and changed in the pj's, Y/N makes popcorn to snack on while they play a few board games. They switch from Uno to Candyland to Mancala. It goes on for a while until they decide to put on a movie deciding on Tangled.

It wasn't until a quarter to ten that Moana watched Maui sing "Your Welcome," they began to yawn and started trying to fight back to sleep. Y/N thought they would never go down to sleep because two eight-year-olds have too much energy. Y/N paused the movie and told them it was time to sleep. Neither girl put up an argument.

She guided them to the guest room that had become Juliet's over the years. The girls get tucked into bed after brushing their teeth.

"Thank you for a great day, Y/N," Josie whispers, grabbing her wrist, halting her, tucking their blanket.

Y/N smiles at the kind girl. "Of course, sweetie. It's been a joy having you here."

Y/N goes to Juliet, gives her a kiss on the forehead, whispering a quiet goodnight who already has her eyes closed, her breathing slow and steady. She goes to Josie, who's looking at her with wide eyes. "Would you be okay with a forehead kiss goodnight? I don't want to make you uncomfortable." Y/N addresses the young girl.

Little does Y/N know that small comment was enough for Josie to seal Y/N in her heart forever for her kindness. "Yes, please." Bright green eyes look up at her with a small smile as she gives her a soft kiss.

"Goodnight, Y/N."

"Night, Jo."

Y/N goes to her room and does her night routine taking extra steps due to getting more sun exposure today. She loves how she feels putting on moisturizer at the end of the night. She lays in bed under her soft white covers. Her eyes shut, and she begins to count backward. She reaches all the way to one and tries again but stops halfway, sighing, knowing there's no chance she'll sleep; she heads to the kitchen to make herself a tea.

With her chamomile tea in hand, she sets it on the chrysanthemum coaster on the side table, picks up the book she left there, and sets it in her lap as she turns on her television to Netflix, deciding on The Great British Baking Show to use as white noise. She presses play on where she last left off, forgetting the book in her lap as the bakers had to make a raised game pie for their signature.

Y/N had already watched collection three, but it was one of her favorites. She loved the bakers and liked watching Nadiya improve each episode. The technical challenge was getting started, the bakers reading their vague instructions to make the tennis fruit cake when she heard small steps down the stairs.

She turns around, spotting Josie making her way down, "Hi there, you alright?"

Josie just nods but continues towards her, joining her to sit on the couch. "Can't sleep?" Y/N asks to share her lavender throw blanket with Josie.

"Not really."

"Yeah, I get restless sometimes as well."

Josie stares, tilting her head as if trying to figure out why she can't sleep, "What do you do to try to sleep?"

"Well, I usually try to read a book in bed, but I decided tea and a bit of tv would help."

Josie nods, and Y/N can tell she's working up the courage to ask her something. "Can I please try with you?"

"Of course, would you like tea as well?"

"Chamomile?"

"Sure, that's what I was drinking."

"Daddy adds a bit of honey."

Y/N smiles, "Honey, I can do that."

She goes to the kitchen alone, getting Josie her favorite mug with bees scattered all around. As soon as she's done making her tea and checking it is at a suitable temperature, she brings it out to her. Y/N sees Josie has put play on the show.

Y/N just grins, happy the girl likes the show as well. "Have you seen this season?"

"Yes."

"Yeah, me too."

"Nadiya is excellent," Josie comments as Nadiya wins first in the technical challenge.

"She is! I'm glad they picked her as the winner though she had strong competition against Ian and Tamal."

Both Y/N and Josie sit there in silence, sipping their teas, watching the bakers now try to make Charlotte Russe cakes for the showstopper. It's not until the presentation begins that Josie breaks their comfortable silence.

"Why can't you sleep?"

"Well, uhh, sometimes I can't get my brain to shut down and have lots of thoughts swirling around."

"Oh," Josie responds. "Do they ever stop?"

"Yeah, usually when I count backward or tell myself a story."

Josie looks delighted at hearing Y/N sharing this with her. "What kind of story?"

"A sweet one, one my grandparents used to tell me, or I make one up."

"And it works?"

"Almost always."

Josie continues with her questions, but Y/N doesn't mind. "Do you get bad dreams?"

"Not always, but sometimes, do you, Jo?"

Josie smiles, "I like that."

"What?" Y/N says, puzzled, aware she avoided the question.

"Jo, dad calls me honey, darling, Josie and Josephine when I do something I'm not supposed to, but no one ever has said, Jo. I like it."

"Oh, I'm glad. It's alright that I keep calling you that then."

Josie repeatedly nods, "Of course."

Y/N looks back at the TV focusing on the new episode that started during the talk.

"Sometimes I dream I'm back in Georgia with daddy." Josie is looking down at her lap, where she draws a circle on the palm of her left hand with her right index finger.

"Yeah, how does that make you feel?"

"Sad sometimes and sometimes happy."

"Why is that?" Y/N asks in a soft voice.

"Well, mommy called me more when I lived farther away. Now I don't get to see her every weekend even though that's the deal. She doesn't even like watching me play."

"That must be tough, Jo. Have you shared this with your dad?"

Josie shakes her head no. "He'd get mad at mom, and I don't want anyone fighting."

"Don't think it's fighting. Your dad just wants the best for you and wants your mom to see that as well."

"I guess."

"Did you know I've visited Georgia?"

"You have?" Josie sits up, crawling closer to her, excited at the change in conversation.

Y/N nods, "My grandparents had family there, so every summer, we'd make our way there. Spent all our time at the lake or just walking through the woods. They lived in a secluded area, so lots to roam."

"We lived in the city."

"I bet you still went to neat places."

Josie thinks about it for a minute, "We did, the weekends were for the lake, and it was easy to drive to another state for a week."

Y/N laughs, knowing how exciting it was visiting a new state in a matter of hours compared to how hard it is in California. "Yeah, I liked that as well."

"What's your favorite memory?"

Y/N stops to think about it; it has been a while since she thought back to her times there. She hasn't had the chance to go back since her grandparents passed away.

"The fireflies. I remember we were in one of my uncle's backyard, and he was showing us his peaches. When I saw a buzz of light followed by another, and soon enough, they were all around us. My uncle tells me he'll never forget the look on my face because it was true happiness and disbelief."

Y/N's smile is nostalgic. If she closes her eyes tight enough, she can picture the fireflies surrounding her. She's brought back to the present when she feels a small hand placed over her own.

"Thank you for sharing that with me," Josie says before she leans over, giving Y/N a hug.

Y/N laughs and hugs her back, happy she got to know this sweet girl better.

"I think it's time for bed."

"Okay."

As they begin walking up the stairs after making a stop in the kitchen to put their mugs in the dishwasher, Y/N stops outside the guest room.

"You're really wise for your age."

Josie nods, "My dad tells me that all the time."

Y/N can't help the smile that Josie draws out of her, "Goodnight."

"Night."

Y/N goes to bed with lots more on her mind. Her thoughts on the young girl who is caring more on her shoulder than she lets on. Josie has grown us quicker and doesn't realize it due to her experiences. Y/N goes wondering what tomorrow will bring.

⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️

A lot was running through Harry's mind after the dinner he had on Sunday with Y/N and her family. Trust him; he enjoyed it. He adored seeing her in a different environment, but she seemed distant, and so did Josie. It's as if the two gravitated towards each other more. Always whispering to each other.

He enjoyed seeing them get along; he just didn't like not being included. This also made him second guess in pursuing Y/N. He wasn't willing to risk it not working out. Harry also knows he's not sure if he'd survive the heartbreak.

It's been a while since he's put himself out there, but as a single dad, he feared that no woman he had met was good enough to meet Josie, not after learning that he had full custody.

Y/N's sister was kind, always teasing Y/N but Y/N gave it right back. He could tell the love they had for each other was the kind he shared with Gem. They might not have been that close in age, but they appreciate each other better as adults. Harry loved Y/N's nephew, who stumbled every few steps he took, which is why Y/N took it upon herself to have him attached to her the whole night.

It warmed Harry's heart and gave him all kinds of crazy ideas, for example like a baby that was half him and half her that he'd love just as much as Josie.

Fuck, he had it bad.

Harry's thankful it's Wednesday, and he gets to see Y/N again. He didn't make practice on Monday having Sarah bring her, and today Y/n picked her up from his house where Mitch was watching her because he had a meeting that would be running long. Luckily, he made it just in time before the practice started.

He knew he was going to stand out, showing up wearing creamed flared trousers and a black silk button-down. Harry had taken off his cropped, lapel grey plaid jacket knowing the heat would eat him alive if he left it on.

Harry chuckled to himself as he walked from the parking lot; his folding hair swung on his shoulder. He waved to the parents before setting up alone under a tree, wanting to enjoy the shade today and no conversations unless it was from one specific person.

He sees her pocketing her phone in her bag and knows this is his chance to talk to her. He makes his way discreetly as possible, going behind the parents, who are all currently staring down at their phones.

"Y/N,"

She turns, she scans him head to toe quickly, not wanting Harry to catch her, but he does. He lets it boost his ego a little.

"Harry, a bit dressed up, no?"

He chuckles, doing a little spin for her. "Not at all, haven't you heard business casual is the new uniform."

She shakes her head at him, "We'll take it into consideration."

"That's all I ask."

Y/N looks over to Kate and motions for her to get the girls' warm-up started.

"Dinner was nice."

Y/N nods, "It was. My sister really likes you."

"That's good. She's really funny."

"She knows it." Y/N rolls her eyes playfully.

Harry knocks his hips into her, "Don't worry, you're still my favorite."

"Gee, I was so worried." Y/N fakes dramatically but isn't able to hide how her cheeks heat up at his compliment. "Now, you need to go sit. I have to coach. Parents are going to think I'm flirting."

Harry smirks, "I don't mind the flirting."

"Styles, you'd know if I was flirting."

"I'm just going to say that I very much am."

"Hmm, I'll take that into consideration. For our future conversations."

Y/N joins the girls as they are about to start their second lap; Harry slowly makes his way to his waiting chair, happy that Y/N might like him just as much as he likes her.

⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️

Y/N pulled Josie aside before the scrimmage wanting to speak with her noticing she wasn't connecting with the team as she had on Monday.

"Doing okay?" Y/N asks as Josie gets a drink of water.

Josie nods, "Of course."

"Well, Juliet told me you didn't want to hang out. She said you had wanted to try that donut place with us on Friday."

"Because I had plans with my mom."

"Oh, that's fun."

"No."

"Why not?"

"She said she was busy," Josie murmurs.

"Well, you're still welcome to join us on Friday. I'm going to take Juliet to get ice cream at my favorite shop after practice. You're welcome to join." Y/N offers, knowing the little girl needs something to cheer her up.

"Does my dad have to come?"

"Not if you don't want him to."

Josie shakes her head no.

"Okay then."

"I'll go ask permission now."

"You can wait," Y/N laughs at her eagerness.

"No. I tell him now, and he can think it over while I play."

"Okay, sure. Don't take long."

Josie nods about to take off, but Y/n stops her. "Josie, I'm sorry your plans changed."

"She's been doing that more." She shrugs as if she's not bothered.

"Just because she is doing that doesn't mean you aren't loved. Your dad loves you and your godparents; the team does as well. I do, also. You're amazing, Josie." Y/N tells her, knowing Josie needed to hear it from somebody other than her father.

Josie's eyes shine, but she blinks the tears away. She gives her a quick hug before turning around and running towards Harry. From the corner of her eye, she sees Josie dramatically asking for permission as she lets her father retie the laces of her boots. Y/N smiles because she loves Josie, and if given a chance, she might also get an opportunity to love Harry. Y/N looks forward to watching what the future may bring.

⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️

Kate had organized a pizza party for the girls because they had been doing so well and thought they deserved a reward. Y/N and Kate always talked about motivating and encouraging the girls for their hard work and dedication. They would do small gatherings or bring them a treat to enjoy after practice, and the occasional Monday off that happened on significant dates or when they as a coach needed a break which wasn’t often because they loved this and the girls.

A pizza party was fun, it allowed parents to interact somewhere that wasn’t crazy hot, and the girls got to eat their weight in pizza. Y/N personally loved it because she got to eat crazy good buffalo wings. Kate and Y/N always shared a basket.

Y/N had sat in a booth with Kate across from her knowing the girls would take up two of the long tables. They rather not squeeze in between when they have a good view of them here.

“Anyone I should be aware of, Thomas, was it?”

“Uhh, no. He turned out to be a jerk who couldn’t get me off.”

“Gee any louder, Katie, would you.” Y/N smiles at Cynthia’s parents, who are in line waiting to order themselves around some beers. Y/N was never one who got into drinking, but it doesn’t bother her those who do.

“Anyways, the one who is coming is Tiffany, and we have been talking for a week, and I think I may be in love.” Kate sighs, a faraway look in her eye as the waiter drops by her beer. Y/N eyes it, not liking how much foam was in the cup.

“You say you’re in love each time.”

Kate rolls her eyes at Y/N, “Well, I mean it this time.”

“Sure.”

“No, you’ll see. Tiff should be here soon. She got the most gorgeous curls and the most perfect brown eyes. Then when she talks Spanish to me, I have an idea what she’s saying, but it turns me on like crazy.”

“I can translate for you.” Kate rolls her eyes, knowing Y/N’s Spanish was perfect due to her high school and college years, not to mention she took YMCA classes at seven. “Anyways, let us move on from the conversation.”

“Okay, let’s talk about your sex life.”

Y/N chucks a piece of lettuce at Kate hitting her square on her chin. Before Kate can retaliate, Harry steps towards them, “Hello, ladies.”

“Hi, Harry,” Kate responds by making crazy eyes at Y/N.

“Mind if I join you, don’t think Josie would like me sitting with her or alone.”

Y/N nods, “Of course, but only if you don’t mind sliding in. I like the edge seats, or you can sit with Kate.”

Kate shakes her head no, “No, he cannot. My date should be here soon.”

Y/N gets up to let Harry slide in, he does a little wiggle to get to the other side, and Y/N does her best to hide her laugh. It seems to work, as he didn’t mention it. Y/N feels her body heat up because their thighs are touching. She feels ridiculous getting worked up over a simple touch.

The next hour flies by, and Tiffany arrives during that time, and Y/N loves her. She is as gorgeous as Kate described, her hair long falling down her back in thick ringlets, her brown eyes captivating, and her golden skin shines with just a hint of sunlight. She can see why Kate was smitten, but getting to know her and Y/N can happily say she’s a perfect fit for her best friend. She hopes it works out for Kate because this will be a heavy heartbreak if it doesn’t.

Y/N excuses herself, wanting to check with the girls. She approaches the table sitting by the pinball machines. The girls have question after question for her that she happily answers. She looks to see Juliet, happily leading a conversation with a quiet Jo sitting next to her staring out the window.

She excuses herself from the girls and places a hand on Juliet’s shoulder, who stops her chatter to grin up at Y/N before continuing like she never stopped. Jo just smiles at her before looking at the other girls acting as she was involved in the conversation, but Y/n knows better.

“You alright, Jo?”

“Of course, a bit full, that is all.” Y/N stares at those green eyes long and hard before nodding.

“I’m just over there if any of you need anything.”

“Yes, thank you, coach.” Most girls answer in unison.

Y/N goes back to their table, and Harry smiles, scooting over, “Saved your spot. Susan tried to nab it.”

“My hero.” She giggles.

The conversation around Y/N flows easily; she laughs and comments. There is a moment where Harry squeezes her thigh affectionately when she makes a witty comment defending him and his style. She wishes he’d rest his hand there, but he moves it back on top, also not wanting anyone to be suspicious.

As much as Y/N is having a lovely evening, her gaze drifts over to Josie, who hasn’t uttered a word since she was with her.

Harry is too busy chatting and having a nice time to notice how quiet Josie has gotten, not that she blames him; the place is loud and complete because it’s a Saturday afternoon. This worries Y/n as she has seen Josie withdrawing more and more but didn’t want to believe it. Josie hides it reasonably well.

Y/N hopes she’s wrong and that sweet Josie is only having an off day.

⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️

Harry was happy to see Josie loving California. He knew it was a risk moving across the country when the East coast is all she had ever known. Josie has shown him nothing but happiness; he can't wait to see how she does in the Fall when she goes back to school. The great thing is she will have friends due to the girls on the team. Also, he hates to admit it, but it has been good for Josie to see more of her mom. Allowing them to build a better relationship. Harry only wishes the best for his daughter and hopes he has been doing that so far in her life.

It's Wednesday, and Harry feels his weeks go by faster now that they have a structured routine. He always gets excited because he knows that he'll have a chance to chat with Y/N no matter what.

They arrive five minutes before practice starts, making Harry rush out of the car, holding Josie's hand as she pulls him along, wanting to apologize to Y/N.

Y/N approaches them as they reach the area where all the girls have just started their warm-up lap.

"We're so sorry. We got stuck in a traffic jam." Harry rushes out, hating to get his daughter punished for his tardiness.

She shakes her head at him, not bothered. "Go on join the others, Josie," she gently touched her shoulder. "I've got to chat with your dad."

Josie gives her an uncertain look, but she assures her with a smile. She runs off, joining the second lap at the back of the two lines.

Harry stands there, uncertain, not sure what she needs to tell him. By the solemn look she has, it might not be good.

She walks off to the side a distance from the parents and has an eye on the girls finishing up their warm-up laps before going into a stretch.

"Josie brought up something I think you need to know."

Harry waits, allowing her to go on, knowing he shouldn't interrupt.

Y/N takes a deep breath before looking him in his eyes, "Josie says her mom told her she needs to stop calling her and to stop with the visits. That she's pregnant, and that's her priority, not her."

Harry's jaw drops. He didn't know Claudia could be so cruel to their daughter. He wasn't even aware she was pregnant or that she wanted more children. Mostly he hates that he does not hear this from his daughter.

"She told me she was afraid of how'd you react to the news, but I told her she needed to address it, and by your reaction, I assume she didn't."

Harry shakes his head. "No, we celebrated the win and had a good weekend. Seemed happier than normal honesty."

"It's common for kids to try to block it out. As someone who had to go through her fair share of child therapy, I feel like it would be good for her to see a therapist." Y/N tells him, voice gentle, knowing this is a lot for Harry.

"Why" Harry bites back, defensive. "She's fine, happy, and laughing."

"Harry, I'm not saying she's not, but she needs to talk about it. Jo won't be with you, and it's because she trusts and loves you and doesn't want to hurt you. She thinks she is protecting you; an eight-year-old shouldn't be trying to protect her father."

Harry feels himself boiling, no longer wanting to hear any more of what she has to say.

"The signs are there."

The signs," he scoffs.

"Quietness, sadness, isolation, anxiety." She points to the field, and he turns to see Josie stretching alone, lost in her own head. No longer sitting between Juliet like she always had the last few weeks. A frown on her face seems to be permanently placed.

"You've got no right to say this." Harry wishes she never brought this up.

"I'm doing this for her, not for you."

Harry has had enough; he wants her to hurt her like he is right now, which is why he lets his mouth speak before he can think over what he has said, "Who do you think you are? Honestly, you're a lousy soccer coach who has nothing better to do but judge kids and their parents."

"Harry," she whispers, trying to mask her hurt.

"No, you've said enough. I think you can forget about Josie playing for this team." His voice dripping with venom. "Seems all you wanted was extra cash in your pocket with the addition of a player ."

He walks towards the field. "Josie, we're leaving," Harry doesn't care that the other parents are watching now. He throws Josie's bag over his shoulder as he watches her jog over to him,

"We just got here. I was warming up."

"Josie, we're leaving." No room for argument in his voice, but Josie stands her ground.

"I don't want to leave." Her voice falters as she stares up at him.

"Josie, don't."

"Dad, I like it here, Coach is-"

Harry cuts her off, "Enough, Josephine, you're not coming back here ever."

Those words bring tears to her eyes; she drops her head, defeated. She follows behind Harry and turns to look at Y/N one last time, shooting her an "I warned you look."

Y/N watches them walk away, and she can only hope this is the last she sees of them. She shakes all her feelings out, knowing she has all eyes on her right now. She's got a team to coach, and just like that, she brushes away Harry and his cruel words, knowing they'll resurface later in the appropriate environment.

⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️

After leaving the practice field, Harry And Josie did not speak a word to each other or the next day. They continued in silence, not for Harry's lack of trying to get a word out of Josie; she was just that upset with him.

All he received were head shakes, and Harry was worried. He cooled down after and let everything sink in, but the damage was done; it was too late.

That same night Harry called Claudia to confront her to tell her he would be taking her to court to forget seeing Josephine. All she responded was that it was quite alright. She was giving him full custody and would be sending him the paperwork she had already signed. Then hung up the phone on him.

Harry was appalled that a mother could do this to their child, to abandon them with no care. He always knew Claudia wasn't a good person, but he wished better for his daughter, and right now, even he didn't feel good enough for his angel girl.

On the fifth day of silence between his daughter and him, he received an email he was tempted not to open due to who it read the sender was. He did so anyway; it was the name, phone number, and location of a therapist nearby. The email read professional, not a hint of the last few months of knowing each other. There was an endnote that said to give her as a reference. He knew he would think it over for now.

On the seventh day of his daughter ignoring him, he called the number that he marked down on his phone. He called and set up an appointment for the following day; he knows it could have been longer if he didn't name drop Y/N. Harry knows he needs to apologize, but he's not sure where to begin or if it would be appropriate to show up at her house, but he decided to focus on one thing at a time, and that would be Josie.

Harry would have liked to walk hand in hand into the big building with big windows overlooking a secluded private park, but Josie walked ahead and sat herself on the rainbow-colored couches for kids and picked up a Judy Blume book to read.

Harry walks to the front desk and admires all the photos pinned up behind the receptionist. He knows they must be patients with only their first name signed. His favorite is a dinosaur swimming on a floaty holding a milkshake; there was some natural talent hanging on the wall as well as a lot of imagination.

"Sir, here for?" The receptionist called him for his turn, not noticing the person in front of him was now seated.

"Styles, Harry. Well, Josephine," he corrects. "Sorry."

"No worries, all parents do that their first time."

He awkwardly laughs.

"Dr. Sylvia Hernandedz will be with you shortly." He thanks her, going to sit on the black couch. He sinks right in full of comfort.

Five minutes later, they are called to go. He reaches for Josie's hand, and she lets him take it but doesn't make any move to hold him; it's as if he's carrying dead weight. Harry sighs but follows behind the receptionist.

"Hello, Styles family, lovely to meet you." A woman in her mid-forties greets them, a nice styled bun not a hair out of sight. Glasses on the bridge of her nose. She has a dark blue pencil skirt and a white buttoned shirt tucked in. He feels not as uncomfortable as he thought he would.

"I'm Syliva Hernandez, and you must be Josephine Styles." She leans down to be eye level with Josie and sticks out for her to shake.

"Yes, Dr. Hernandez. A pleasure to meet you." Josie responds politely.

Dr. Hernandez smiles. "Now, how'd you know I was a doctor?"

"The frame behind your desk shows your credentials." She points to the USC doctorate hanging behind a desk full of framed photos.

"Well, aren't you an observant girl?"

"Thank you."

"Would you like to accompany me to this playroom while I chat with your father? I can have my friend Alycia join you if you don't want to be alone."

Josie shakes her head no, "I'll be fine. I like being alone sometimes. I had a very wise person tell me it's okay to want to be alone sometimes, but it doesn't mean you're alone."

"Did your dad tell you that?" Dr. Hernandez asks.

"No."

"Very, well off you go. We'll have an eye on you but feel free to use all the items in there."

"Thank you." Josie slips right in, grabbing paper and colored pencils, carefully pulling out her desired colors.

"Have a seat, please, Mr. Styles."

"Thank you."

He sits in the mahogany chair; he can't say he likes it much.

"These chairs are awful. My office is better furnished, I assure you."

Harry tears his eyes from Josie to look at the therapist.

They are silent, and Harry isn't sure what to do.

"Uhh...Y/N Y/LN recommend us to you. I'm not sure if they informed you or I had to let you know."

"Yes, I'm aware. She's a great person." Shutting down conversation.

"Your daughter's birthday."

"December 13th, she's eight".

"How long have you been separated from her mother?"

"Since before her birth. We have a court agreement that I get weekly, and she gets her weekends, but that has recently changed. I have full custody of her.

"How does that make you feel?"

"Not okay; I grew up with divorced parents. My mother never remarried. I have an older sister, but we live in different countries."

"Do you fear the same for her?"

"Think it's worse for her. Josie's mother told her she didn't want her anymore because she would be having a baby. She didn't even tell me. She told--," he cuts himself off.

"Who did she tell?"

"Her soccer coach."

"A female?

"Yes. They are close. Have a real bond, an understanding of sorts."

"Do you think she is looking for a female to look up to?"

"It would make sense. My mother lives in London, and we only see her on holidays, same with my sister. She gets on well with my best mate's girlfriend, Sarah. She taught Josie to play the drums a bit. Also, Glenne, a dear friend."

"Male figures in life?"

"Too many. Mitch, Jeff, Adam, and his kids. Tyler, a family friend."

"It seems she has paternal figures, but she's searching for maternal figures." She states before continuing, "What's the reason you brought her in?"

"The coach addressed to me that she was worried that she was withdrawing herself, becoming anxious and lonely. Less happy. I didn't see it, but we've gone a week without speaking, and I've seen her mope and stare off a lot."

"Is she still seeing her coach?

"No, that's part of our not talking. I got upset over the suggestion of therapy and took that away from her."

"It led to a negative response."

"Yes, and I feel awful about it."

"It seems that the sport and coach are important to her and who she is. It's what you call a safe place."

"But she was beginning to withdraw from there as well," Harry states, not knowing it couldn't be so safe if she was isolating herself.

"Well, we'll have to talk with her. Are you comfortable with me speaking with her alone? I do have to let you know what I speak with her is confidential. She can tell you about it, but you cannot ask me."

"Yes, of course. It's fine, I understand." Harry knows therapy can be scary, but it can also be the start of something better.

"Well, let me call her back."

Dr. Hernandez stands and opens the door, "Josephine, come with me, please." Josie nods her head, putting the colored pencils away and bringing her picture with her.

"I apologize if we took too long."

"Not long. Enough to finish my drawing." She shares, giving the doctor a small smile.

"Can I have a look?"

Josie hands it over, Dr. Hernandez turns it so they can both see what she drew. It's a photo of a goal net and who he assumes to be himself in the net. A little girl with two pigtails standing there, hands raised, and another female is to the side cheering with a megaphone.

"It's beautiful."

"Thank you," Josie says proudly.

"Do you think I can keep it? Have you sign your name and add it to the front desk."

"Would you?" Josie's eyes go wide at someone other than her dad hanging up her art.

"Of course."

"That'd be wonderful." And for the first time in a week, she turns looking up at Harry. "Did you hear that daddy, Dr. Hernandez wants to keep it?

"I would too; it's beautiful, darling."

"I can make another."

Harry smiles, grateful, his daughter is her vibrant self, "Thank you, honey."

"Josephine, are you okay with your dad stepping out and you talking with me privately one on one?

"Yes, I like you. Also, you can call me Josie."

Dr. Hernandez nods in acknowledgment before turning to address Harry.

"You can wait in the waiting room. Alycia will bring you back to discuss in my office when we are done."

Harry mutters okay and walks out, closing the door behind him. He walks a few steps before laying his head to rest on the wall. This has felt like a lot, but he also feels like a weight has been lifted off his shoulder.

Maybe I need to see a therapist. Harry thinks to himself, liking that he got a lot off his shoulders in just a short amount of time.

He's walking down the hallway when he hears a familiar voice, one he didn't think he'd have the pleasure of ever hearing again.

It stops him in his tracks.

He hears her voice once more and follows it out to the waiting room he's supposed to be waiting for his daughter.

Harry sees that she is talking with Alycia, and as he steps closer, he feels like it is harder to breathe.

"I have three more clients before I'm done for the day, but I have a thirty-minute gap, so maybe we can order smoothies, my treat." She tells the secretary handing her two twenty bills so that she can get everyone a drink.

"Y/N," he gasps out.

His eyes roam her body; he's never seen her dressed, so office official always used to see her in shorts, sweats, leggings, and a t-shirt. She's wearing this blue satin silk blouse tucked into high-waisted black trousers and low heels.

She is gorgeous, absolutely gorgeous.

Y/N turns, not at all trying to hide the surprised look on her face.

"You're here." She nods; he's not sure why she's here.

"Here's your next client's file. They are doing an intake. You have over half an hour."

"Great."

Harry is now standing in front of her. "You work here?"

Y/N nods.

"You're a therapist." He states.

Y/N can clearly see he wants to talk and knows a better place to do it than their waiting room filled with waiting people.

"Why don't we talk in my office?" Harry nods, ready to follow her, but before he can, she turns to the desk once more, "Hold my calls, please, Alycia."

"Of course."

"Follow me, Harry."

They walk in silence as they pass Dr. Hernandez's door. She opens her door, allowing him to enter first. It feels bright and full of color; the wall's painting is pale green and hanging on the walls; she has lots of scenic photos and drawings. The chairs are nice, a red velvet couch pushed against a wall, her desk is not that big, he notices. It lacks pictures compared to Dr. Hernandez. Her degrees are placed on a bookshelf. She has it color-coded in colors of the rainbow, which is quite impressive.

"Have a seat." She offers all the open space.

Y/N takes a seat on the couch, and he follows.

Harry feels underdressed next to Y/N, and that has never happened before; he is always the one showing up in extravagant and overpriced suits.

"You work here." He waits for her to confirm.

"Yes, I'm a therapist here. Dr. Hernandez was my advisor during my undergrad. She knew what I wanted to accomplish for my career. They offered me a job, and I accepted. They have been supportive of obtaining my doctorate."

Harry is very impressed, "Congrats, that's wonderful."

"Thank you."

They both quiet down, not sure who should go first. Harry is about to start when Y/N begins to speak.

"Listen, Harry, I'm sorry. I went about addressing it wrong, and I never meant to upset you. I apologize." Y/N keeps her eyes on his wanting him to see how sincere she was.

"No need, I've taken a week to reflect on what a jerk I was. Having Josie give me the silent treatment for a week was torture." Harry confesses, scratching his neck to avoid reaching for her hand.

"Is she okay? Harry, that's a long time." Y/N's voice laced with concern.

"I'm sure she's chatting Dr. Hernandez ear off as we speak."

"I'm sorry you had to go through that."

"I brought it on myself by taking her away from one thing she truly loves."

Y/N nods, not able to disagree with Harry. "Yeah, I understand."

"Is that how you know she needed therapy because you're a therapist?"

"Yes. I saw the signs, but I mostly observe and never address it, but from the conversations I've had with Josie and the relationship we built, I felt like I owed it to her to get her help." Y/N pauses, debating if she was ready to share more of herself with Harry. "It was also that I saw myself in her, it felt familiar, and I wanted to help."

"I'm going to tell you a story."

Harry can tell it's not going to be an easy one as she's not staring at her hand, focused on the lone ring she has on her index finger. "You don't have to."

She reaches over and squeezes his hand once to let him know it's alright. "I was nine years old when I walked in on my dad cheating on my mom with his secretary. I told her as soon as she came home and she didn't believe me. She went as far as calling me an attention seeker. By the end of the week, we were living with my grandparents. I didn't see my parents again after that day. At age ten, I started visiting the counselor because I blamed myself for my sister no longer having parents. I wouldn't even allow myself to talk to her; I was just consumed by guilt taking all the blame when I shouldn't have."

Y/N knows Harry's gaze is on her, but she doesn't dare look up, not wanting to see the pity in his eyes. "Don't think I've stopped since then. A big reason I'm doing the job I am now is for those who helped me along the way.

"Y/N,"

"Harry, no pity comments. I've made my peace, sure the trauma never truly leaves, but you overcome it."

"Thank you for sharing that with me, I know I don't deserve it, but I'm grateful."

Harry needs to apologize; he wants to leave here today knowing he didn't lose a friend.

"I'm sorry I hurt you."

"Harry, you-"

"No, I really am; I didn't mean a word I said. I know you're more than a coach, and you're not lousy; you're brilliant. You're my daughter's favorite person. I didn't mean it, and I hope you'll forgive me."

"I accept your apology, that was a bad day for all of us, but I can move past it if you can?"

"Yes, I would love that. I feel awful you're someone I trust, a friend. I'm sorry. I'm really sorry.

"Thank you, Harry."

"One more thing."

"Yes, go on."

"Can you recommend a therapist for me? Talking with Dr. Hernandez was amazing, and I think I would benefit from it."

Y/N doesn't make any comment, just nods. "I'll send you a list of therapists but do know you'll always find a friend in me if you ever need a shoulder to cry on or someone to watch over you as you get drunk."

Harry chuckles; he'll keep that in mind for future references.

"There's a knock on the door. "Yes, come in."

"Sylvia is ready for Mr. Styles."

"Thank you, Alycia. I'll walk him to her office."

Y/N stands, and Harry follows close behind as they make their way out to reunite him with his daughter.

"Y/N, can I hug you?"

She bits back the smile threatening to overtake her face at how small he looks asking. "Yes, that's fine."

Harry doesn't wait for another second; he throws his arms around her holding her tight. He hadn't been lucky enough to hug her before, but now doing it, he doesn't think he ever wants to go a day without one.

They walk out, both having heated faces due to enjoying being the embrace of one another. She walks them a few doors down and knocks, waiting for the go-ahead to go in.

"One last thing," She says, pointing a hand to his chest."

"Name it." He'd give her anything.

"Jo comes back to the team. You bring her to the game this weekend."

"Yes, of course."

She beams at his response, "Great."

Y/N peeks her head in, locking eyes with Sylvia. "Alright, to come in, Doc?"

"Of course, Josephine, this is my good friend and coworker Y/N."

Josie turns and smiles wide, jumping up when she sees her walk in with Harry right behind her.

"Hiya, champ. Seems to have found your dad lost out here."

Josie giggles and runs into her arms, hugging her tightly.

"I've missed you."

"As have I little miss sunshine. I missed my fastest midfielder at the game. All the girls missed you."

"Awe, I'll be back," she looks up at Harry with a look of worry on her face. "Right, daddy?"

"Yes, darling. Got a game at ten am on Saturday."

Josie lets out a loud shriek.

"So this is Coach." Dr. Hernandez says with a knowing smile.

"Yes, she's great," Josie responds, holding tight to Y/N's hand.

Y/N chuckles. "How about you and I go draw a picture to add to my office while Dr. Hernandez and your dad tie up some little things."

"Okay."

They walk out hand in hand as Josie catches up with Y/N on everything she did on her week away. Not shying away from how she handled the now resolved issue with her father.

"You don't look as blue," Dr. Hernandez comments."

"Sorry," Harry blushes, having been lost in thought on the two girls who just walked out.

"Mr. Styles, your aura is soft, kinder."

"Yeah, I think she has that effect on people."

"You might be right."

Things are finally looking up, and Harry looks forward to rebuilding his relationship with Josie and hopefully creating one with Y/N besides their parent and coach relationship.

⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️

It's been two weeks since Josie came back to play, and thing's have been going smoothly. Harry begins helping out with cleaning up at the end of practice to talk to Y/N more. He asks more about her job and how the doctorate is going. He worries she might be juggling too much, but she assures him she has a smooth dynamic of handling everything.

It's a cold Saturday morning, it's the quarter-finals, and the nerves are high for everyone. The girls finished on top of the leaderboard, but the league likes doing a championship game to honor all the hard-working teams.

Y/N is quieter this morning, and all the parents have picked up on it. They are used to her light and kind nature, wishing everyone a good day and accepting treats. Cynthia's mom is in charge of snacks for today and offered her a muffin one she never says no to except today.

It immediately puts everyone in a skittish mood.

Truthfully, Y/N isn't here for the parents, but the girls and the team they are against is the dirtiest. Most girls are nine and will be moving up a division, but Coach Roman teaches them that dirty plays will make them win. Her girls are strong players, but she reminds them of the importance of sportsmanship and playing with heart.

Y/N even makes sure she cannot be approached by anyone, only the girls and Kate, as they start to warm up on the field. The girls do their drills as Kate stands quietly by your side.

"Someone can't take their eye off of you."

"Stop."

"It's true though, he was pouting when he saw you on the field clipboard in hand," Kate says with a giggle.

"Shush."

"Going to ask him on a date?"

"Only if we win."

That shuts Kate up, "You're joking."

Y/N slowly shakes her no, "Girls, two lines, run through side net shots."

Kate and Y/n stand back to back as the girls pass, and they kick it-bag, giving them only a second to angle themselves. This is one of their favorite warm-ups, and she's glad she can still talk with Kate during it.

"What made you finally decide?"

"I realized he's not going to make a move because one he fears I'm going to reject him and two it goes horribly wrong, then he might never show his face around here again. I'm positive he likes me."

Kate nods, "he likes you, adores you. He's got it bad." She's quiet for a moment before starting up again, "I know we're going to win, so how are you going to ask him? I'm going to need all the details."

"I'm going to go up to him and ask him out to dinner, simple as that."

Y/N changes the drill marking the end of their conversation; she leads the girl into two groups of keep away while Kate takes Dawson, their goalie, to keep warming up.

Before they know it, captains and coaches are called. Coach Roman is smug and annoying as he shakes her hand. The girls pick heads and win the coin toss. They choose to have kickoff; Roman's girls decide to stay on their side, meaning everything to their advantage as they have the slight uphill to battle through for the first half, and the second will use it to their advantage.

The starting lineup is quick to attack, and in a matter of minutes, Juliet scored a goal from a pass from Imelda. The girls' cheer, happy to be leading the game. They know better than getting cocky; if anything, this intensifies their speed at playing. The next twelve minutes of the second quarter are stressful as Josie makes it a two-zero lead from a corner kick. Just as half-time is to be called, a midfield slips through the defense from the back and gets it over Dawson's head, and just like that, the referee calls it.

Y/N can't remember the last time she was this anxious. It's foul after foul, and she's had enough of it.

Kate is quick to round up the girl, not wanting to monopolize all their time, wanting them to relax mostly to stay in a positive mindset. Kate leads the talk letting them know they are doing well and that the left-wing is getting beat, but having the downhill in favor should help her out now. Y/N went around making sure each girl was safe and had no injuries, only grass stains on their knees.

"Be aggressive, but don't stoop to their level."

"Yes, coach" is heard in unison as a response.

Each girl goes to their bags and starts to stretch, knowing they can't approach their parents because it's easy for them to influence them on how they are playing. Everyone respects it, but there are a few times a parent comes by.

She decides to take a walk, getting away from the girls. She just wants to relax and not be as tense for the end of the half.

She nearly jumps out of her skin when she hears someone call her name.

"Fuck, Harry. You scared me."

He raises his hands up in defense. "Sorry, I was just checking if you are okay?"

Y/N doesn't hesitate to rush into his arms, tucking her head into his neck. Harry, without hesitation, wraps his arms around her. He runs his hand down her back softly, hoping she finds it comforting.

"Hey, hey, it's okay." She holds him tighter, so he goes on. "You're okay, yeah, doing a good job. Girls are playing well. Taking care of each other, just like you taught them."

She slowly nods her head, she's calmed down, and Y/n thinks it might have to do with his soothing heartbeat.

"Deep breaths, love, Come on with me."

Harry breathes in and out until she does it with him. He feels her relax and tries to pull her back, but her grip is tight.

"It's okay, not going anywhere."

"Sorry," she whispers.

"No need to apologize, love."

"I just don't like when coaches teach their girls to play dirty; I hate injuries. They're just kids." She whispers, looking up at him now.

"They'll be okay."

"You don't know that. We have two quarters left."

Harry knows he won't be able to comfort her like he wants when he hears the ref blow the whistle. "Look, the girls are about to start, and they need a coach."

She nods, knowing she has to go back to her coaching mentality. The girls are her main priority; she can do this.

"Thank you, Harry."

"I'm here for you, whenever you need."

Y/N jogs over, nudging Kate playfully, who is shooting her suggestive eyes. They let the captain lead the huddle and listen intently before wishing them luck. The parents clap as the team cheer echoes out.

Only twenty-four minutes left, they can do this. She knows they can. The referees assured them he'd get a better eye on them, not wanting anyone to be carried off injured. Y/N refuses to take her eyes off of her girls. Constantly reminding them to keep communicating with each other when she hears them go quiet.

The last two quarters pass much quicker than the first; the girls play with more fleeting touches, not allowing the other team to put pressure on them.

Just when number eleven is close to getting the ball, Leslie switches the ball over to the other side; Y/N is shocked at how well Josie brings it down, she constantly struggles with this at practice, but she knows that Josie has been putting in the extra work.

She can hear Harry clapping and cheering on Josie; Y/N shouts her praise, letting her know she's doing well. Andie gets a breakaway, and it's a one-be-one versus the goalie. She fakes right as it goes left, touching it in softly, and in it goes. Y/N can't stop cheering, feeling the buzz all over her body. She's incredibly proud of the hard work they have all put in. Just as they reset and the ball is passed back, the whistle is blown and signifies they have won.

Golden Sparks are moving on to the semi-finals.

The girls are quick to jog in and tackle Y/N and Kate in a massive group hug. Y/N is going to be basking in this happiness for the entire weekend.

Y/N sends all the girls to their parents, letting them know she was okay doing the clean-up on her own. Kate stuck around, as did Juliet, because she wanted to have breakfast with Y/N telling her parents they were not welcome to come even though the invitation was extended to them. Clara and Xavier did not take any offense, happy to go back home and nap the morning away if their young toddler would let them.

Y/N approaches Harry after she gets everything settled in her trunk. He smiles at her, walking over helping her close her trunk as they wave by to Kate together. Josie and Juliet hang out in Harry's car, going through his Spotify playlist as they skip song after song, not being a fan of his taste.

Y/N lets out a deep breath, "I've been working up the courage to do this."

"Do what lovely? Harry asks curiously.

"Would you like to have dinner with me?" Y/N feels her stomach tense up as she waits for a response; by his wide eyes, she can tell he wasn't expecting her to say that, but he plays it off well.

"Asking me on a date?"

"I am."

Harry agrees, "I'd like that."

"Does Friday work for you?"

"Yes, great."

"I'll uh, pick you up."

"Proper wine and dine, love." She chuckles because, yeah, she wants to swoop Harry off his feet just like he did to her without even trying.

Y/N gives him a hug holding him tight for a few seconds, smiling up at Harry feeling giddy that they had a date planned after two months of flirting that they weren't sure would go anywhere.

"Juliet, we got to go."

"Okay, auntie." Juliet slams the door just a tad bit too hard, making Y/N mutter an apology.

"Bye, Harry."

"Bye, love."

⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️

Friday had arrived quicker than Harry expected. He got to see Y/N during the week because of the practices, and he was texting her every chance he got. He wanted to let her know he liked her and he was serious about pursuing her. It's been a long time since his last relationship, but call him cliche with Y/N; it all feels right. That everything is falling into place like it should.

Now here he sat on his couch waiting for Y/N to arrive; he had changed his outfit three times because she told him casually, and he couldn't settle on a look. It wasn't until he put on a plain black tee that hugged her arms just right and white linen cropped pleated trousers that he felt ready. He even broke out his new white Vans for the evening.

Harry was about to check the time when there was a knock on his door. He couldn't tame the butterflies in his stomach if he tried. As he opened the door, Harry let out a laugh because there stood the most beautiful woman holding up a bouquet of red lilies. He's falling in love, and there's no stopping him; he just hopes she's there to catch him.

"Hi Harry, these are for you."

Harry laughs, not knowing how to react to receiving flowers, "I'm speechless." He accepts them and gently cradles them in his arms. "I'll put them in water, and we can go."

"Sure, no rush." Y/N admires his living room, never having stepped foot in his house until today, and it's small but cozy. There are photos of all his family framed on the wall to her right. He has a small bookshelf that holds more vinyl than books.

Harry comes back and sees her staring at a photo of Josie on her first birthday covered in cake from head to toe. "I'd give you a tour, but I'm actually really excited to start our date."

"I'm sure they'll be another time."

She walks down his driveway to her parked car allowing Harry to have a moment to look her over. She's dressed casually; she has high-waisted jeans that show off all her beautiful assets. Her lavender cardigan looks warm; she left it open to expose a white plain top. It is genuinely a casual look, but she makes it look over the top.

"You look beautiful," Harry tells her as she stands by her car door.

Y/N does a small twirl before jokingly curtsying for him. "Glad you think so. Those trousers are doing your thighs justice if I do say so myself."

Harry giggles loving how easy she compliments him.

"Right, I wanted to take you mini golfing but considering it's a Friday and summer, it's going to be packed with teenagers."

"Oh, you definitely saved us."

"Yeah, I thought we could take Josie during the middle of the week as a date. I bet she'd enjoy it. Although, I never keep track of points because I'm too competitive."

The date has barely started, and she's left him speechless twice.

"You want Josie to join us on dates." Harry states.

She looks over at him quickly as they are stopped at a red light, "Of course, Harry. She's your daughter; I don't expect you to find a sitter every time we want to go out together. Isn't it like if you're dating me, you're dating my daughter."

He chuckles, "but not on our first date."

"Honestly, I think we were long overdue for a date."

"Yeah, I wanted to ask you out all summer long," He confesses.

Y/N gasps in shock as she signals a right turn, briefly checking her blind spot before making the turn. "Yet, it only happened with a few weeks left in summer."

"Yeah, but we got here, didn't we?"

Y/N leans over and places her hand on his thigh, squeezing him twice, "Yes, we did."

Harry sees her turn into a diner that looks a bit run down; he doesn't dare question her because she seems so excited as she gets out of the car and waits for him by the trunk. Y/N extends her hand for him to take, and he does without a hint of hesitation.

Y/n leads the way, but he hurries to open the door for her. She thanks him with a squeeze of the hand. Walking in, he was startled at how Harry felt he was transported to a seventies diner. The booths were red and looked sparklingly new. To the left was a jukebox that he was desperate to have a look at, maybe dedicate a song to Y/N. The floor's black and white pattern shined at him as the waiter wore a nice button-up with a black bow tie, a red and white striped apron thrown over, his name tag said James.

"After you," Y/N said, wanting Harry to pick a booth side; he knew better than to fight her and slid in on the left side. Harry is surprised when Y/N slides in right next to him. "This alright, Harry?"

Harry grins at her, dimples on display just for her. "Yeah, just caught me by surprise."

She opens up the menu sliding the other one away so they could share. Y/N points to some of her favorite items on the menu and cringing at ones she disliked.

"You know the menu well." Harry states before deciding on the turkey burger she had raved about.

Y/N chuckles, closing the menu. "My grandparents brought Clara and me here every other weekend, never letting us eat out. My grandmother was against the food industry, and she knew the owner here prided themselves on giving back to the community. Always holding fundraisers or donating to local teams."

"Fast food industry isn't the best, but I thank them because I can get Thai food delivered to my house."

Y/N doesn't have time to respond, as their waiter comes back with two glasses of water. "I'll have the turkey burger, no onions, and fries instead of the salad."

Harry didn't know she didn't like onions but made a mental note on it, "I'll also have the turkey burger and the side salad. Oh, and the couple milkshake, we agreed on strawberry, right?"

Y/N nods her head, "I had forgotten about that, but yeah, two straws, please."

"I'll have that out shortly," James tells them, walking away.

"The shake is too hard to die for; it has whipped cream on the top and bottom. It's freshly made, nothing like the canned kind. It's large! Made to be shared, thank goodness you remembered."

Harry shrugs, "That's what I'm here for."

Harry loves how easy conversation flows with Y/N. He doesn't have to force himself to say try to think of a topic or question to ask her. She's very open in sharing herself with him, he's never had someone drop down all his walls this quick, yet again, he might have dropped back ages ago.

Y/N talks to him about his grandparents and how adoring they were. That they supported all of her dreams, even the ones that we're crazy, like wanting to become a witch because she wanted to make flowers grow from her palm. Harry shared how the first year of Josie being born, he felt like he never slept, always nervous something would happen. He also tells her how living in Georgia is something he didn't enjoy, but he also didn't want to bounce Josie around from school to school. It was only date one, but Harry was excited for what the future had in store for them.

When James came back to drop off their burgers and shake. Y/N didn't even hear him too busy laughing at a dumb joke Harry had told her; he can't even remember the joke he made because her laugh is music to his ears.

Y/N waits for Harry to take his first bite, and he decides to tease her just a bit. He slowly raises the burgers stopping an inch from his lips; Y/N sits there, chin perched on her hand as if she has all the time in the world to wait for him.

"I'm in no rush, casanova." She smirks, not falling for his game.

Harry knows eating burgers is nothing sexual, so he decides to go all in. He moans at the first taste he gets, it's juicy, and the pepper jack cheese is perfectly melted, adding an excellent combination.

"Love, that is an amazing burger."

"I know." She's already gotten a bite in. She eyes his salad plate for a moment before looking back over to her fries.

"You want some, sweetheart?"

Y/N giggles at his comment, "God no. I eat healthy enough already, thanks to Juliet, but can I have some of your ranch?"

Harry understands eating healthy, he does it for Josie, and since Y/N is constantly around Juliet, it makes sense she would change her eating habits but does know as an aunt she's easier to give in to desserts. Not that he minds; he needs more sweetness in his life.

"Sure, you eat it with your fries. That's interesting."

She shrugs, "I don't think it is. Everyone in my family eats fries with ranch, including Josie."

"If Josie starts eating fries like that, I will know who to blame."

Y/N bumps her shoulder with Harry, "Haha."

They eat most of their meal in silence. Occasionally, Harry steals a few fries causing Y/N to chuckle before turning her plate, so Harry didn't have to reach over her. She doesn't chastise him about not ordering fries if he wanted some. Harry likes how much he enjoys spending time with Y/N.

"What's one thing you hope to accomplish within the next five years?" Harry asks as Y/N passes the shake back to him and takes a generous drink. They had finished eating, and now we're trying to finish the shake that Harry thought was smaller than what had arrived at their table.

"My usual answer is a doctor, but what's happening next year, so, give me a moment," Harry waits for her, watching as she plays with the rings on his right hand. They went front sitting thigh to thigh to Y/N, hooking her leg to Harry's, causing her to lean more on him. Harry liked it, and if he wasn't somewhere public or their first date, he would have pulled her into his lap. He took a chance and set his hand on top of her thigh; to his surprise, she placed her hand on top of his, intertwining their fingers together.

Every little thing she did made him fall deeper and deeper.

"I want to run a marathon."

"A marathon? I didn't know you were a runner."

"Oh yeah, last December I ran a half marathon, and it was hell, but once the runner high hits, it's the most wonderful thing."

"Why not do it now?"

Y/N frowns, taking off the rose ring from his finger and slipping it on one of hers. "The training is rigorous. You have to work up the miles constantly and eat better. I would rather enjoy the upcoming year."

"Well, when it happens, I can't wait to be there cheering you on." He tells her with a hopeful look.

"I'll hold you to that, Styles."

Harry smiles, hoping she does, hoping he gets to spend many more years to come with her in his life.

Y/N excuses herself to the restroom, and Harry decides it's a good time to pick a song. He approached it grateful to half a quarter hanging in his pocket. The jukebox looked old but well kept. Harry saw over 100 songs but searched for a specific one in mind; he was thrilled to see it was on there. Just as it started to play, he saw Y/N walking back towards him, so he hurried over to slide into their seat.

"You know, you're kind of clumsy."

"Am not," he denies.

"Oh, sorry, so it wasn't you who bumped into the table as you made your way to sit down."

Harry decides not to respond, knowing she saw him embarrass himself, and instead starts singing along to the song. The smile on her face widens as she hears how good he is.

"I'm not surprised you picked Fleetwood Mac, "songbird" is a sweet song."

"Am I that predictable?"

She nods, "Jo always sings one of their songs; at the sleepover, she said that's what you played most, so I taught her my favorites."

"Is it you I have to thank for the ABBA and Selena obsession?" He playfully glares.

"Guilty. She needed to brighten her horizon."

"Josie doesn't even know Spanish."

"Ah, but she will now."

"You're weird." Y/N shrugs in acceptance, knowing he meant it as a compliment.

As Harry's song comes to an end, she jumps up and rushes over to pick her song. She doesn't shy away about dancing her way back over to him. She mouths along to "The Name of the Game," moving her body to the beat.

"The name of the game?"

"You know it, darling."

Harry feels the heat in his cheek and hopes Y/N won't bring it up. She gets him flustered in just a few words.

"You know this is about falling in love with your therapist," he states

"Harry!" She exclaims. "No, the song is open to interpretation."

"What do you think?"

"I think it's about the early days of your relationship and wondering if it'll be something more or not. Also, that bridge, I mean come on."

Harry loves how passionate she is about the song. He loves that she's not afraid to share her thoughts with him, and he realizes he's doing the same. He can't help himself and leans in to press a kiss to her temple, throwing an arm over her shoulder to pull her close as they sit there listening to the song to the end.

"Ready to go, angel?" He feels her mutter a small okay, as she gets up, offering her hand to him as he's at the edge. "Let's go take care of the bill."

Y/N chuckles, "Already did, Harry."

Harry pulls her back, turning her to face him, "When?"

"The restroom, oldest trick in the book."

"Sneaky, sneaky."

Y/N, let's Harry lead the way out this time; they say goodnight to the staff and hurry over to the car. He didn't bring a coat, and he still wasn't used to how cold California got at night. He thought summer meant warm nights with a gentle breeze, not chilly air. Y/N seemed to not mind it, not hurrying after Harry as he jumped into the passenger seat.

"Afraid of the cold, H."

"Yes, why is it so bad?"

"Didn't you get snow in December up in the peach state? Also, aren't you from where the sun never shines?" Y/N teases him as she settles in her seat, turning on the heater for Harry.

"We visit occasionally; I can handle the weather with the appropriate clothing." He pouts at her, rubbing his arms.

Y/N turns around, reaching for something in the backseat before settling in again and settling it in Harry's lap. She doesn't say anything besides dazzling him with a smile and pulling out of the parking lot.

Harry slips it on over his head and finds it fits him loose, "I hope you know you might not be getting this back."

Y/N turns to look at him as he drags the collar up to his cheek to feel the softness it still holds, "That's my coach sweater. Kate got me a few, all in different sizes; I wear this one because I like baggy hoodies."

Harry smiles at her, he knows everything they have done has been in reverse, but he loves how confident she is. He knows she's been hurt before in the past from what she's shared but not once has he felt her trying to hide or push him away. He wants to tell her everything he's kept locked inside, he's never felt like this before, and he hopes the feeling never goes away.

"You know, if people see you wearing the sweater, they'll start talking."

Harry turns in his seat, facing her as the street lights shine on her face. "Let them. I've got no shame in people thinking you're my girlfriend. If I'm lucky enough, it might come true."

Y/N shakes her head, thankful for the darkness because he won't be able to see how her face heated up. The drive to his house was short, he wished for the night to never end, but even he knows he's not that lucky. Harry lets her know it's okay to pull into his driveway as he had his car parked on the curb right.

"I'll walk you to your door." Harry holds her hand the short way to where they will soon have to say goodnight.

Harry doesn't try getting his keys out; instead, he turns her to look at him, wanting to remember her in this moment forever. His last first date. Call him crazy, but there was no one else for him. It was always Y/N; he just had to find her.

"I had the best night with you," Harry whispers, pulling her close by her waist. She rests her hands on his shoulders and nods. "We're doing this again, Y/N."

"I got a second date." She cheers.

Harry leans his forehead against hers, smirking as he hears her breath hitch. "You get a second, a third, a fifth, a one hundred. You name it, you got it."

He's so close to closing the gap between them, feeling their breaths mix together.

"That means you'd be stuck with me for a long time."

"I want to say forever, but that might be too soon."

"Our secret." She whispers, her eyes dancing from his lips to his eyes. "Please kiss me, H."

Harry knows he won't ever be able to deny anything she wishes in life, mainly because he was close to losing her once before.

His lips moved slowly, savoring the feel of her against him as he pulled her close, letting himself rest against the door. He felt the butterflies in his stomach going crazy as she moved her hands to his hair, tugging on the small curls. Harry pulled back in fear of letting out a moan at the intense pleasure she made him feel.

Y/N pulls back breathless but presses her lips to his cheek, not wanting him to touch to go far. "Will you give me another, darlin'," Y/N nods a starry look in her eye as she lets Harry swoop in and take control of the kiss. This second kiss is faster and more passionate. Harry was holding back before, but now he wants her to feel everything he makes her feel. Harry wants her to know he gives her goosebumps and fireworks.

"I could kiss you all night." Harry trails kisses on her cheeks, loving how lost in his touch she is.

"Too bad, I need to rest. I've got to coach a game tomorrow."

That statement is enough to bring Harry back to reality, where he has to wake up extra earlier to pick up his daughter then drive her to the game. They have to say goodnight, even though neither one of them wants to.

Harry pulls away, dropping his hands from her waist; Y/N follows by letting her hands slide down from his hair.

"See you tomorrow?" He winks at Y/N as she walks backward, creating distance between them.

"Of course, we got a semi-final to win."

Y/N walks to her car, touches her lips feeling the lingering heat on when he kisses her breathless. She is turning on her car, making sure her headlights are on, when she sees Harry rushing down the steps toward her, the smile on his face contagious.

"What is it?" She asks as she rolls down her window, knowing she wouldn't leave soon if she got out.

"A kiss for the road."

Y/N couldn't dare deny him a kiss, especially when she was craving more already.

Harry slipped a hand the back of her neck, fearing she'd pull back sooner than he wanted. Her lips tasted like cherry; he figures she put on chapstick. This was only their third kiss, but it had only gotten better. Harry swiped his tongue against her bottom lip, begging for entrance, but she pulled back, letting out a breathless laugh at the pout he made, no longer able to feel her against him. She leans and pecks at the corner of his mouth, whispering a goodnight as he steps back, letting her drive away.

It may be too soon, but he might just love her.

⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️

The semi-final had to be one of the most intense games she had seen the young girls play. It was goal after goal from each team, neither one backing down on the pressure.

In the second half, she told them she was proud that if they kept playing how they were, this game was theirs. Going in a 3-2 lead, the girls stood shocked when, in a corner kick, the other team had been able to get it into the back of the net and over Dawson.

Kate thought this might knock them down, but it sparked something in all of them. All the parents stood up from their seats when they saw them dance around the opposing team switching the ball side to side. Honestly, it was something far advanced than they've ever presented.

Y/N was in awe; their communication was at a new level. There wasn't much time left, and Kate feared penalty kicks even if they were prepared for it.

Lani had control of the middle field; she just needed to get it past their defense. Juliet had defenders marking her tight, no way able to make a run towards the goal. If they played it right, Juliet would draw them out, leaving a gap allowing them to make a run for it. That's all they needed for a foot race.

Kate was sitting on the bench holding tightly onto Sarah Beth's hand, not able to take the pressure; then again, no one could take it. It all happened so fast; one moment, Juliet ran towards the midfield, two defenses following close behind when she got a touch on the ball, letting her send it back where it came from, then straight down the line. Jo and Franny ran down both sides too far ahead to be stopped; Jo was able to get a touch on it, crossing it straight to Franny, who shot at goal but was stopped by the opposing goalie. Jo was there for the rebound striking it in.

Goal!

She did it. She made the final goal.

Jo was quick to be bombarded by the rest of her teammates hugging her as they ushered back for the kick-off. Y/N wished she could run in there and hug her, telling her how proud she was, but for now, shouting 'great job' and 'stay focused' would be enough. Y/N looked over at Harry, who was wiping his tears still yelling proudly for his daughter, and like he knew she was staring, he looked over at her giving her the cheesiest grin she had ever seen on him.

The game finished, and the Golden Sparks won another game, taking them to the final the following week. Y/N congratulated the girls telling how proud she was of them and the hard work they put in each game. She told them she can't wait to see them on Monday and to have a wonderful weekend. Then told their parents to spoil them a little extra this weekend that earned a cheer from all the girls.

As Y/N was packing up her things, Kate and a few other parents already helped carry everything over to Kate's car. She felt arms around her waist.

"Hey, quickster," Y/N says, turning, allowing her niece to hug her properly.

"The girls are going to get ice cream if you want to go with them; Emilia's mom will text you the address," Juliet asks, but Y/N has spent enough time with them and wants to let them be.

"Thanks for the offer, but you have a good time. I'll let your mom know Emilia's mom is dropping you off." Juliet nods, giving her one more hug before hurrying over to Emilia's car, where Jo also happens to get in. She sends them away; she notices Harry a few vehicles over putting a bag away when she reaches her car.

Something comes over her because the next thing she knows, she's calling his name and standing next to him.

"Hiya, love. Doing alright?"

Y/N tucks her hair behind her ear and nods, "Yes, all good. That was an exciting game."

"Good to hear."

"You doing anything now?" She asks, peeking over her shoulder, seeing Kate has her eye on her, but she just rolls her eyes before looking back at Harry.

"Going home, my munchkin left me."

"Well, there's a great Mexican restaurant here if you'd like to join me for lunch."

Harry smirks, "Asking me on another date, are you?"

"I have to when I know you're still a bit nervous about making a move," she confesses bashfully.

Harry's not surprised she can so easily read him; all the walls he had left are gone.

"Then I'd be honored."

"Great, uh good. Just follow me then."

Arriving, they were seated quickly. A plate of chips and salsa were delivered shortly, Harry asked for guacamole. Y/N didn't argue, knowing for many people that was one of their favorite dips. Personally, she wasn't a fan. She didn't like the texture. Most people were shocked at the revelation, and no doubt Harry would as well.

"What's good here, love?" Harry says, leaning into her side to peek at her menu instead of opening his.

"Hmmm...honestly everything. I always get something different when I come, but you can never go wrong with tacos."

"Alright, you want to share?"

Y/N shrugs, "We can. I'm not picky, but I am starving."

"Have some guacamole; you haven't gotten any."

"No thanks, I'm not a fan."

"You serious?"

"Yes, Harry."

"That's strange."

"What is?" She sets the menu down to look over at him.

"I mean, it's fine. At least you'll never buy avocado toast for like six dollars." He chuckles, and Y/N can't help but join in.

Their waiter comes over, "Estan listos para ordenar?"

Y/N nods, "Hola, si. Dos tacos de asada, y dos de al pastor. Por favor."

Harry is staring intently at his menu, not speaking a word as they wait for his order. "You alright, darling?"

He leans close to whisper in her ear, not able to focus on the term of endearment, "Can you order for me?"

She doesn't tease him, just smiles, "Y una orden de enchiladas rojas."

Their waiter smiles and walks away, promising to be back shortly.

"Have we discussed you speaking a second language?"

"I thought we had." She brushes it off like it's no big deal.

"I don't think so."

"Okay, I took YMCA classes from age seven and did so all the way until college. Even have a minor in Spanish."

"Impressive."

"Sorry if you felt uncomfortable. They speak English as well but primarily speak Spanish."

Harry shakes his head, not wanting her to feel bad, "No, I was just caught by surprise. Hearing you speak Spanish was a turn-on."

"I'll keep that in mind." She winks at him, glad to see the blush spread on his cheeks.

Lunch went great, just as she had expected. They shared food, Y/N enjoying Harry's enchiladas much more than the tacos. Harry happily ate the three tacos she left after eating most of his plate, not that he minded. Y/N appreciated how open he was in sharing food. She had always done it growing up, so Harry allowing her to do the same made her find more profound comfort in their already growing relationship.

Harry beat her to the bill, and she let him take it not without letting him know she'd get it the next time. They stood outside together, allowing the nice breeze to brush over then neither one was eager to say goodbye. They knew they would see each other soon, but with the growing affection, they just craved more time together, more time getting to know each other.

Harry had her pressed against her car door, hidden from the view of others. "We should do this again."

"We should," she agrees.

"My house Thursday night, Josie is going out with Sarah and Mitch to watch a movie, most likely do a sleepover as well."

"I'd like that. We'll see if you can maybe have a sleepover yourself."

Harry smirks, liking the idea of her spending the night with him, not caring that they both had work the following day.

"Are you going to kiss me?"

"I want to."

"You have my full permission," she teases.

Y/N met him halfway and pressed, letting him press his lips against hers. As she kissed him back, she wanted him to feel how much she liked him, how fast she was falling for him. His hands wrapped around her waist tight; it gave her comfort. She knew he wouldn't let go until she asked.

She felt her beat just a little fast as she left out a soft moan; she shifted closer as his mouth opened over hers and his tongue slid between her lips.

He was in control of her. She did not mind one bit.

With a sigh, she tilted her so he could kiss her more deeply; he didn't need any encouragement to do as she wished. His kiss became more intense, she could feel the burn between her thighs, wanting more, needing more, and that's when she knew she had to pull back, but he beat her to it.

Harry pulls back, staying close enough that he could steal another kiss, "God, I can't get enough of you."

He surprised her, how open he became with her feelings, she hadn't asked how his therapy was going, but god, it must have been doing wonders if she could feel every emotion that was going through him as she gazed into his loving emerald eyes.

"I'll see you soon, darling." Harry took that as his cue to let his hold of her go.

"Not soon enough," he whispers.

"You'll see me Monday," she reminds him.

"Can I steal a kiss then?"

"If you're lucky."

Y/N knew it wouldn't be long until she could say she was in love with Harry.

⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️

Harry never thought he'd be the type of guy to be excited over a simple call or text reading: 'I'm thinking of you." She's made him feel good and confident in their relationship. He sent flowers to her work that led to her sending him a selfie with her face buried in the flowers.

At practice, he knew she couldn't pay attention to him, but that didn't mean he couldn't. He saw how fast she moved with the ball showing the girls a new drill, then doing it again slowed down, making sure they all understood. He admired how she never got frustrated. He knew how hard it was to handle one eight-year-old, but sixteen was impressive. He'd sit there for hours just admiring her if he could.

On Tuesday, he called Alycia, the receptionist at Y/N's office, asking for her lunch schedule, wanting to drop by and leave her lunch. She let him know she was taking it later that day at 2 since she was so busy. He decided that a BLT sandwich from two blocks away would do as she had once expressed to him how well done they were, promising to take him one day.

He walked in, noting how few people were in the waiting room, but eagerly stepped up to the counter. Alycia greeted him kindly, now seeing him more than once when he took Josie to her first session. Josie showed improvement, and each time he brought her, he made sure to leave a note behind for Y/N.

As he told Alycia to give you the food, there Y/N came walking down the hall. He was surprised at how casual, yet professional her look was; she had a silky oversized button shirt tucked into her linen pants, wearing her brown loafers he knew she didn't use often.

"Alycia, can you update this- Harry!" Y/N looks shocked to see him standing in front of her, not at all expecting to see him; she just planned on calling him later at night like they had been doing the past few days.

"Hi, love. Brought you lunch." He smiled sheepishly, holding up the bag.

She laughs, handing over the file to Alycia then stepping towards Harry to wrap him in a hug she has been wanting to do since she laid eyes on him. He wrapped his arms around her waist, holding her tight against him, taking in her sweet honey scent. Before pulling back, remembering, after all, she was at work.

"I'm starving, thank you, darling. I was about to head out." Y/N rubs her stomach jokingly.

"Well, I'll leave you to it. See you tomorrow."

Y/N pouts, "You're not staying?"

"Well, I didn't want to assume."

"Assume, please." She laughs at the smile she gets Harry to give her.

They excuse themselves from Alycia and walk towards her office. They take a seat on her couch as Harry hands her the sandwich. They ate together, and for the forty-five minutes they had together, it was perfect; they shared stories of how their week was going at how Josie was anxious for the game and just promising to see each other soon. Harry got a kiss goodbye and was glad he would be seeing her the following day.

It's Thursday night, and Harry will finally get her for more than half an hour. Josie left a few hours ago to watch the movie with Sarah and Mitch, her sleepover bag on her shoulder not at all a surprise for Harry. He glanced around his house and knew it wasn't the cleanest. Josie always had some stuff scattered around the house, but he knew it just gave the house character.

"Hey, I'm outside," Y/N tells him on the phone before hanging up.

He rushes to the door, swinging it open to see her shut the door with her hip before making her way to him, a grin on her face as she carries a pink box in one hand and what he assumes to be food in another.

"You said you don't always like having to cook, and I know you said you love Thai." She giggles as he reaches to take the bag out of her hand, letting the smell take over.

"This is sweet, love. I appreciate it."

"Well, of course," she shrugs off his compliment. "I wanted to do something nice."

"I feel like I should be the one doing sweet things for you," he confesses as he guides her to his kitchen.

Y/N frowns, "Darling, we can move past that."

"Can we?"

"Of course, I feel like we've grown in the last few weeks. There's a different type of trust, don't you think?" She turns to face him, knowing the conversation was serious.

"Do you know how sorry I am?"

She nods, slowly stepping towards him, stopping right in front of him. She lifts her hand under his chin to have him look at her. "I do, and I forgive you. Sometimes we let our emotions win."

"I hope you know I'd never do that again." His voice is soft.

"I know."

She leans in, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to his lips.

"Dinner?" She beams.

"Yes, of course."

The meal is good, probably one of the best foods he's had in a long time. She didn't pick this up from his usual place but wouldn't tell him where she went. Told him she needed to keep some things to herself to keep surprising him. Harry finished most of the meal and then opened the pink box she left on the table that held a mixture of donut holes.

"You've still got room," she exclaims.

"They smell so good." He defends. Y/N laughs but rejects the offer to have one.

After cleaning up, he leads them to the living room, deciding to watch a movie. The scroll endlessly for a few minutes before settling on Life As We Know It. Harry shared that it was one he enjoyed watching back, and she agreed.

They had only gotten thirty minutes in before they began chatting. Y/N went on about how she was planning a trip to take two up north wanting to visit June Lake and hike some trails. Y/N's sister was going to see Xavier's family in San Diego, so they couldn't go up with her. Harry, without thinking, said if she'd have them, they could go. She didn't respond, making him assume she didn't want them to join, but she surprised him by hugging him.

"Best idea you've had tonight. I'll make all the reservations. Just let me know when you're free." She told him before settling back down next to him, her hand on his thigh going back to the movie. She was grinning at the montage of Holly and Eric and how they were learning how to co-parent Sophie. Harry had not taken his eyes off of her; she laughed as Sophie pooped in Eric's old hat.

"You're staring." She narrows her eyes at him, suspicious.

"It's because you're beautiful."

"Thank you," she answers timidly. "Very sweet of you."

"Of course, I'm going to spend the rest of my life telling you how beautiful you are if you let me."

"God, you're smooth."

Harry smirks, "Smooth enough for a kiss."

She didn't answer him; she wrapped her hands around his neck and pulled him forward so that he could meet her halfway, and pressed her lips against his. Harry was quick to take control, slipping his hands around her waist and placing her on his lap, "this okay," he asked, quickly pulling back making sure she said yes. Once he had a go-ahead, he went back to her lips; she shifted closer, now touching chest to chest, not a single space in between as his tongue slipped into her mouth, prideful of the moan she released against his mouth.

Harry smoothed his hands from down her waist to rest on her ass, then cupped her and held her to him as he thrust against her. He pulled back for a second fearful he went too far; Y/N frowned, slowly opening her eyes whispering "again" against his lips, and who was he to deny her.

She could feel his hesitation, slid her hands up, and cupped his jaw, "You're okay, we're okay. You're taking care of me. I want this."

Harry swallowed hard, noting she never stopped rocking herself on top of him. His mouth curved in a slight grin, pushing up to meet her, he felt her go soft in his arms, and that's when he really realized the effect he has on her.

He needed her lips on him, it had only been a few moments, but he was craving her. He laid a string of kisses up her neck until he reached her mouth, lips swollen, but he knew she was eager for more.

"Harry, please." She had a hand tangled in his curls, needing to close the distance.

"I got you, love."

He tilted her head, allowing him to kiss her deeply, the kiss only more intense than before. If he didn't need to breathe, he would kiss her forever, never stopping.

"So pretty, all those moans just for me,"

"All for you," she breathes out.

Harry smirked, moving her up and down over his pants at a steady rhythm, but she was fighting for control.

"Harry."

"It's alright, love, let yourself go. Show me how pretty you look when you come."

Y/N was so close, tensed her thighs around him about to reach her release when they heard a phone ringing, halting their movements. Harry groans, pressing one more lingering kiss to her puckered lips, before reaching over to the side table to his right for his phone, "not me."

She holds back a whine, getting up for her phone inside her jacket. "Whoever it is, don't answer," he half-jokes.

Y/N giggles and looks at the caller as she swipes right to answer, "it's my niece."

Harry watches as she nods, telling her to relax and that she'd be right over.

"Has our night been cut short?"

"It has. Juliet got in an argument with her dad and is now threatening to move out."

"What," he laughs, standing up as he watches her shrug her jacket on.

"Yeah, to the backyard or with me."

"She really made you a mediator."

Y/N laughs, shrugging.

As Harry is walking her to the car, he can't believe how the night turned or would have. "You know I thought it would have been my child who interrupted us."

"Well, your daughter is an angel next to Juliet."

"You really think so,"

"I know so."

"You make it so easy to fall for you," he confesses, wrapping her in a hug before she leaves him for the night.

"Harry."

"What, I mean it."

She leans up to kiss his cheek, "I'm sorry we didn't get to finish."

"Me too."

"I hope you know once I'm in bed tonight, I'll be thinking of you."

"That's not fair."

"Why not?"

"Because I want to be the one taking care of you, making a mess of you."

"We'll get there," she promises.

Harry leans in and kisses her; it's short and sweet.

"Night, Harry. See you Saturday."

"See you then. Goodnight, love."

⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️

It's bittersweet honestly, it's the final game of the season. The girls have worked very hard to get where they are now: at the championship game. After this game, win or lose, they'll have a month off. No one will call her asking for an extra jersey, asking her for a ride, or texting her what time the game was, even with them owning the schedule. They'd all get a break until mid-September.

Harry and Josie were the first to arrive, while Kate and Y/N were setting up the warm-up drill.

"Loverboy is here." Kate teases as they walk to the bench.

"Stop." Y/N looks over at them, seeing them heading this way. "Styles family, good to see you."

"Hiya, Coach."

"Hello, Jo. You're going to go get ready?" Y/N says, looking down at the girl's black crocs with Avengers pins.

"Yup," she skips away, sitting on the grass next to Kate, who's pumping air in a few balls.

"Harry, hi."

"No darling," he teases."

She narrows her eyes at him, "I'll have you sit with the other parents if you keep teasing."

Harry looks appalled; she'd suggest such a thing, "Now that hurts."

"You know I thought you'd be sweeter, especially about that wonderful night we had Thursday."

A smile tugs up Harry's face at the memories, "My apologies, didn't want to upset my girlfriend."

"Girlfriend?" Y/n doesn't hide her surprise.

"Yeah, uh, we've gone out enough. I like you, and I'm going out on a limb here that you like me," she nods, allowing him to continue. "You're marvelous and love, Josie; god, you even gave her a nickname. I want this; I really want to hold your hand and keep going on dates with you and kiss you. I never want to stop.

She smiles, stepping into his embrace, "I'll be your girlfriend, boyfriend."

"Enough to risk a kiss?"

She doesn't reply; instead, she leans in, giving him a chaste kiss.

"Now go be a good parent and take a seat."

Harry does so. The smile on his face mirrors her own.

The game passed in a blur; the four quarters finished quickly. Y/N had thought they lost to the other team carrying a two-one win over them. The girls didn't look defeated, but each girl she subbed came out with a sigh but cheered as the minutes counted down.

Everyone hated losing, including herself.

Then out of nowhere, Priscilla, a usually shy player, gets a touch on the ball and sends it towards the goal. The goalie lets it slip under her, and what do you know they scored. The cheers seem endless; Y/N isn't bothered with the time, knowing there isn't much left in the final quarter.

This gives the girls a new motivation like a spark has been lit. It's a game of keep-away, Blue Devils not giving up easily. Abby gets the ball at her feet, and she freezes; the goalie is running right towards her, the defense kept away by the others; it's not until someone shouts, "Shoot!" that the young girl lifts her left foot shooting it through the goalies' legs and hitting the back of the next. Then just like that, the referees blow the whistle and call the game.

The Golden Sparks had won the championship. Y/N felt the tears in her eyes, thankful for the sunglasses hiding her overflowing emotions.

Y/N laughs as she feels Kate hug her and begin jumping up and down.

"We did it!!"

"They did it!"

Y/N is swept through the motions as she shakes hands with the coaches and claps the opposing team's hands. It's not until Juliet runs towards her with full force, knocking her onto the grass, wrapping her arms around her waist, that she's brought back to the moment. Then before she knows it, there are fifteen more girls joining in on the group hug. She's not sure when Kate was dragged into it, but she feels their joy.

They have a lifetime of wins and losses coming ahead in their young lives, but she's happy to be part of one that brings them so much happiness.

The young girls help her get up before hurrying over to their waiting parents. Juliet is being smothered in kisses by her parents. Josie is passed around by Harry's friends and her godparents, congratulating her on the win. Each girl showing off their small first place trophies, indeed to be displayed for all to see somewhere in their home.

Y/N has waved almost everyone off, telling them she would see them for pizza and drinks at their usual location. She took one look around the emptying field and felt she did well this season, but there was also room for her to grow as a coach.

"Looks like you're a champion, love."

Y/N turns around to find Harry smiling at her, Josie a few feet behind, waving to a couple with a baby. "Think she's the champ; she played the game. You did wonderful out there, Jo." She grins as Jo looks at her proudly.

"I still think you should be congratulated; you led these girls. Taught them and helped them grow into becoming better little humans." he shares, grabbing her hand pulling her into his chest.

"Well, thank you." Y/N looks down at Josie, who's crouched down trying to pick up what's likely to be a worm, "Ready for some pizza, Jo?"

Josie nods, not looking up too entranced on the creature in her hands now.

"Can I give you a gift, you know for uh...winning?"

"Course, I like presents." She grins at him, eager for what it could be.

His fingers curled into her nape and pulled her head into his as he kissed her softly. She felt his full lips move over hers; she felt how much he felt for her. As Harry brought their kiss to an end, he pulled back and looked into Y/N's eyes. "Was it a good gift?"

"The best," she answers before they are interrupted by a giggling Josie, who is staring up at them.

"Does this mean you're together?" Jo asks.

Y/N and Harry share a look before looking back at Josie, who's patiently waiting, "yes."

"Oh my! Dreams come true!" She shouts, running circles around them.

"Isn't meeting dad's girlfriend too soon a bad thing?" Y/N asks Harry.

"Not when you know you're never letting go."

"Oh, I like the sound of that." She lets pull her towards him, his arm resting comfortably over her shoulder.

"Plus, you're meeting all my friends at the pizza place, they all came to cheer on Josie, and you did say everyone was invited."

"I might just regret saying that."

"It'll be fine. Not a chance you don't win them all over."

Y/N brings them to a halt, Harry smiling down at her. This is happiness; she never wants to forget it. Harry leans in, letting their mouths meet in a kiss, soft and passionate as they both spill their feelings for another, hoping that with each passing second, the emotions only get stronger and stronger.

Harry pulls back, resting his forehead against hers, "I don't know what the future will bring, but I'm glad we'll be able to see it together."

Josie walks a few steps in front of them, leading the conversation. Harry and Y/N listen intently, holding each other tightly because this is what their future will consist of; more soccer games, more smiles, more laughs but most importantly, more love.

⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️

thank you so much for reading <3333

I adore you. take care xx

#harry styles #harry styles stories #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #harry styles fan fiction #harry styles x reader #dad harry #soccer coach y/n #harry x you #harry styles smut #harry styles one shot #harry styles imagine #harry styles au #my writing

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starshipsofstarlord · 3 years

Text

Not on my boat

Pairing | Bucky Barnes x reader

Summary | whilst helping Sam fix his boat, during the midst of its progression, Bucky corners you within the old Wilson heirloom, leaving your friend and future captain, rather disgusted in the both of you.

Warnings | tfatws spoilers, mentions of death, some angst, smut, oral (male and female receiving), fingering, unprotected sex, bit of choking, swearing

Requested ✖️

Quick link to my masterlist, if you’re interested in reading more of my crap 😬

Hearing the waves crash against the side of the boat brought a smile upon your face, as you felt the breeze brush against your face. It was peaceful, fixing something rather than leaving it broken in order to save lives. If you weren’t swarmed with the government on your tail about how you were not allowed to use your powers, you’d be living out a free and happy life with the man you loved.

You were enduring a break from your assistance on the old Wilson vessel, your legs plodded around its platform, as you surveyed every piece that was in progress. Soon it would be in tip top shape, and when Sam and Bucky’s relationship was on par with that, that was when the two of you had planned to leave. There were plenty of things the two of you had to make up for before you could reside in peace; one of those things was that list of his.

It was a ledger of the amends that he had to make, a reminder of all the lives that had either taunted his own, or he had stolen from whilst he was not himself. James did not deserve the grievance that he was pardoned with, he was struggling, that much was clear. He had lost Steve, and then he was forced to watch as the shield had been handed off to some wanna be cap. To say he had been furious at Sam was a deep understatement, but as said, he was making amends.

Sam was a good man, you had learnt that much from the time that you had spent avenging to him. You had yet to tell him, but you weren’t planning on going back to that life after Karli was stopped, you wanted to continue working in the small shot bar slash grill, where Bucky and Youri would visit during your hours for lunch, and remain in that partition of worlds. Having Bucky and normalcy was a fine balance, which was a deep seated structure that you deeply needed.

If you did not have that then you were sure you’d explode, and hurt someone, or break something. That was no longer your duty, the fighting that you had spent most of your life giving into was coming to an end, and you were more than fine with that. A civilian life sounded good enough, and something that you could definitely settle for, though, you weren’t sure that Bucky would do the same, you hoped that he would.

That gleam in his eye was far too noticeable every time that he looked at that star striped shield. It had brought him much pain, but it had been there in the corner of his sight everywhere he had went. And now, Sam Wilson, the man that his best friend had entrusted with it, finally accepted the mantle, holding it in his firm grasp, ready to become the next captain to walk the earth, and both you and him knew that he would do far better than Walker could.

He was already a hero, he’d been fighting the Sam foes as Steve for some time, that was enough to know that he was ready. His hesitancy had been understandable, more so after listening to Isiah, though, it was nice to see Sam take his own path on this one. There were pictures of his younger self assembled upon the wooden walls, he was with his sister Sarah. She seemed like a nice woman, a part of you wished that you get to know her better, but she wasn’t a buyer into the whole superhero get advantages agenda, and nor were you.

From what you could tell, Sam had his advantage right here; his family. Sarah was supportive of him, always aiding him necessary, whilst she simultaneously raised to young boys, that looked admirably up to their uncle, and feeding the kids that they went to school with because their parents had no intention to. If you could, you’d buy a replica of her life, her head was above water, although the boat almost wasn’t.

The boat. It was an heirloom, something that you did not have of your own family. Everyone was gone, the only person you had was Bucky, and thinking of him caused a light chuckle to fall from your lips, he made you endlessly happy. But neither of you could have the picture perfect life, and that was why the pair of you worked, you were each well aware of the restrictions that taunted you both, and had both been down dark roads on more than one occasion.

Things were turning brighter though, as the sun glared through the old glass, casting luminosity to stroke the high points of your face. A gently creak had your head diverting to the door way, where no other than James Barnes was leant up against, his metal arm pressed to the frame as he adoringly swept his oceanic pools over your form, slowly stepping closer.

“What are you thinking about doll?” He asked you, his tone genuine, as you sighed from his words, rubbing your eyelid as you felt a small itch. You puffed your cheeks, as you placed your hands on the super soldier’s waist, rubbing small and vigilant circles through his grey shirt.

“Too much.” It was an honest answer, everything was rattling around like pins in your mind, sinking in and letting loose to their own will. They could not be organised, they would only tumble about again, until the box was empty, though, for now, you had nowhere else to put them.

“Sarah said we could spend the night.” At his words, you hummed, taking note once more of how generous the woman indeed was. “We get the couch, so you best be on your best behaviour baby girl, nothing dirty goes on inside.” A small smirk crept its way onto his handsome face as you gasped at his spoken intention, lightly hitting the vibranium of his arm.

“Why do you blame me for not keeping it in my pants?” You interrogated him, glaring up at the man with a furrow between your brows. “You’re the one that corners me, a lot like this actually, so that you can get your own way and fuck m- oh, that’s exactly what you’re doing now, isn’t it?” You scoffed, crossing your arms and stepping away due to the man’s hormonal impulses. “Why am in not surprised?” You asked yourself, shaking your head at the behaviour of your partner.

“Hey, I’m doing us both a favour. Sex in someone else’s house is not exactly appreciated, and there’s kids, that i would rather not risk getting caught by.” He moved towards you, grabbing an ass cheek in each hand, as he pulled you closer by his grip. “At least then, there’s a chance I can survive the night, without being woken up by you sucking me off, or riding me.”

He was pushing your buttons, and he far well knew that, almost too well. It was his technique to get you riled up, that way, there’d be no dismissal of his current proposal, though, you continued to wear that adorable frown that he loved so much, and so, he gave your ass another firm squeeze, causing you to gasp against his chest. “Fucking on their dead parents’ boat isn’t exactly respectful either.”

“We’re helping fix it, may as well take our break on board, let loose a little, release all that’s clouding your mind.” He shrugged, knowing that his words were tempting you into complying with his lustrous whim, and so, to put another step in to helping his cause, he stepped back, reaching behind him to pull his shirt over the back of his neck, leaving his muscular torso bare, and free for your eyes to roam.

“That’s not fair.” You whined at him, not stopping yourself as you moved closer, and smoothed your hands down his stomach. “You’re such a tease Barnes, why couldn’t you have just fingered me in the public bathroom and waited until tomorrow?” A groan slipped from your mouth, as you peppered kisses over his warm flesh, tasting the sweat on his skin as your tongue swiped over the ridges of his six pack.

“Where would the fun have been in that?” He watched you roll your eyes, but continue to work your way down to his navel, stroking his v line with your fingertips. “We’ve had sex on a plane, might as well add a boat to the list.” Bucky remarked, groaning as you put your weight down onto your knees, looking up at him with your pretty eyes, as you palmed him through the denim of his jeans.

He could feel his cock stirring beneath the material, wanting more, eager to breach the layers that were keeping your tongue from rotating around him. But he remained still, as you swept your hair out from your face, the noise of your pulling down his zipper audible, as you sent him a naughty grin. The man above you licked his lips, breathing a sigh of relief when you tugged his jeans and boxers down, his erection swiftly bouncing up, the leaking tip pointing rudely at your face.

With a quick hand, you grasped his length, rubbing over his veins as you pumped him, spreading the moisture of his precum over his rigid skin, aiding you in your movements. As you proceeded to jerk him within your grip, your mouth moved forwards, your breath fanning over his balls before your tongue slipped out to stroke them, swiping up the droopy skin, as you suckled one into your mouth, contently moaning from the flavour of his skin.

Your eyes had shut as Bucky opened his own, watching you through a hooded gaze as you happily assisted his genitals, sending him into a crusade of pleasure as you used your well adversed skill set upon him. Your bottom lip ran up his shaft, slowly dragging along his reddened skin, until your reached the tip, your hands fleeing down to fondle with his sack, as your mouth stuffed itself full of his cock.

“Baby girl.” He breathed, his chest feeling tight as he stood there, practically naked aboard your friend’s boat. James gritted his teeth, watching as you effortlessly bobbed your head up and down half of him, lazily grinning as gagging sounds eventually emitted from your throat as you had him down the back of your throat, saliva slipping down your chin as you shook your head from side to side with him choking you with his dick.

Though he worried not for your struggle, not as you moaned against him, your lashes fluttering though your eyes were shut. He reached his vibranium hand down, stroking the side of your face with the cool metal, a high whine whistling it’s way out of your nose. Your spare hand reached up, cupping it against you, as you hollowed your cheeks, steadily breathing your nostrils.

A light frown covered your face as you focused on smoothing your tongue on his underside, causing Bucky to throw back his head, his stomach sternly clenching as he felt his balls twitch; and then, before he could fathom it, he was filling your mouth, cumming down your throat, as he pulled out, the last of his seed falling upon your tongue as he manhandled himself, feeling sensitive as he watched you fumble your tongue around your mouth, swallowing the mix of your spittle and his cum.

“Taste so fucking good.” You spoke, laughing lightly as you stared up and saw his dazed expression. Bucky pulled you up, his hand cupping your ass again, as he backed you up against the dash, your back lightly hitting against the window as he pulled at your shorts, whisking then down your legs, rubbing you through your underwear. His tongue explored your mouth, tasting himself as he located your clit, your arms grabbing at his shoulders to push him down, to which he complied.

His noises echoed through your mouth, as he pressed kissed along the top of your thighs, his fingers surpassing the seams of your panties, swiping at your entrance, until his prodding ceased, and he sunk his middle finger into your pussy, feeling you clench around him instantaneously. His teeth bit into your skin, emitting a squeal out of you as you harshly tugged his hair, making him rut his loose cock against nothing but the air.

“So wet.” He mumbled against your skin, as his vibranium snapped the sides of your underwear, letting the damp material fall to the floor, as he licked circles around your clit with his tongue, pulley airy sounds of pleasure of of your lungs. He slipped in another finger, his nose being pressed against your mound as you tugged him even closer, feeling as though you were almost there. Then you came, his fingers quickly exiting you as his tongue plunged in your entrance, cleaning up all your juices.

“Need you to fuck me Buck, please honey”. The man stood, stroking his hard cock as he teased your entrance. He swiped it through your slit a couple of times, before slapping his head against your clit, making your mewl against his lips, as you licked your essence from around his mouth. “James...” His cocky demeanour returned, as he watched you glance down at his cock, pressing your lips together in desire.

“Thought you didn’t want to fuck me on the boat.” He sneered dominantly, gripping your throat with his vibranium fist, giving it a tough squeeze, finding it endlessly hot as needy tears pooled in the corners of your eyes. Your lips pouted as you sputtered to speak, but you were just so hungry for him. “Guess I’m just gonna have to take pity on you doll, aren’t I?”

With that,he wedged his way through your folds, filling you to the brim as he bottomed out, gently releasing your throat to paw at your tits through your shirt. “Move baby, move.” You mumbled, your head feeling dizzy as your nails dug into the back of his neck, pulling him closer so that you could place tender and supple kisses across the front of his shoulders.

And so, he began to thrust into you, keeping a grip on your hips as he raised your leg around his waist, driving into you deeper, your head tiredly lulling as you chanted his name in soft and delirious pants. “So damn tight angel.” The soldier muttered, biting down onto your chin as he kissed his way up to your lips, abusing the swollen flesh a little more. The kisses were sloppy and downright needy, his vibranium hand held your chin up so that it would tip in rhythm with his movements, making access to the inside of your mouth easier.

“Buck.” You mumbled against his lips as your eyes rolled, your own hand circling your clit as you jutted against his exceeding administrations, one hand crawling up into his scalp as you let our small screams. You were indefinitely close, and as Bucky swerved his head around your own, moving his lips to nip at your earlobe, you came, coating his cock in your wetness, as he continued to hit his hips against your own.

It wasn’t long until he followed after, your clumsy hands trailing down to roll his balls in your palms being the last thing to push him over the edge. Bucky remained standing between your legs, each of your heads resting over each other’s shoulders as you felt each other, eyes closed, and smelling how the aroma of your sex wafted around you, like a personalised perfume.

“Hell no.” And the peace was broke, as Sam’s voice broke it. He had his hands on his hips as he shifted his gaze away from the two of you, unimpressed by what had happened. “The two of you get a break and you - not on my boat!” He practically screeched like a falcon at the pair of you, his arms flailing about like a bird’s flapping wings.

Although he was maddened, it didn’t settle well with you. You were too far out of it to acknowledge what he must have thought about the on deck dick that you had gotten, you were too lost in Bucky, the feeling of him still inside of you, and the falling of his cum out from beneath you both. “You know what, I’m outta here.” Sam left, quite glad to do so.

“You alright doll face?” Bucky asked as he pulled out, making you wince from the feeling of emptiness. You nodded as he reached for your underwear , leaving them be when he registered he had torn them, and instead opted to picking up just you’d shorts, pulling them onto your legs, redressing himself afterwards.

“I love you Buck.” You smiled tiredly, humming as he pecked your lips a few more times, combing his hands through your sex hair, as he returned the facial expression, seemingly calm. It looked good on him, the pair of you had momentarily forgotten your traumas, and it was bliss.

“Love you too darling.” He pecked your nose, staring lovingly into your eyes as he helped you down, and abled you with support to stand. “Unfortunately I think our breaks over beautiful.” He spoke, his hand upon your waist as the pair of you walked from the scene, going to fetch a bottle of water from Sarah, whom you hoped had not learn of your oversea adventure .

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ramzawrites · 3 years

Note

(Platonic techno x Piglin Hybrid Reader)

Imagine a 7-8 y/o piglin hybrid finds techno's nether portal and out of pure childhood curiosity decides to go through it and ends up in the snow biome. They almost immediately get frostbite and pass out due to living in the nether and usually being warm. Eventually techno finds the child by his nether portal and look's around to see no parents so assumes they are an orphan he goes to pull out his orphan obliterater but the voices get louder telling him to take them home and protect them eventually gives in wraps his cape around them and brings them home to warm them up

(Feel free to ignore if it makes you uncomfortable)

-Anon :)

Kin - Piglin!Child!Reader and Technoblade

Pairings: none

Characters included: Technoblade, (mentioned) Philza

Warnings: n/a

Series: a request :]

Summary: Y/N was just too curious! This weird black frame with the purple light was surely not there before! Maybe they should look at it a bit further. The light just looked too inviting!

Words count: 3023

Authors Note: My first Techno fic! YO! I really love him alot! He is one of my favorite CCs and also favorite Character in the dsmp :) Wish I found a better way to cut this one off but I had so much fun writing this!

Y/N’s little Piglin hands slowly traveled up the rough Netherrack that they were hiding behind. Grabbing the edge of the rock as their head followed along, their eyes peaking over cautiously.

There was this weird black frame with what looked like a purple pool inside of it. It emitted a rumbling but kind of musical sound that seemed to call out to Y/N. In fact, they only found this weird portal only due to the sounds. Never in their young life have they heard anything like it.

They have only seen something like this here and there whenever their clan moved on from a region but usually those seemed to be broken. The frame only half finished without a light coming out of it. Elders and the adults would always remind them to stay far away from it since apparently it could be dangerous, but Y/n couldn’t understand how.

It just stood there playing its music that seemed to almost call out to the Piglin. Wanting it to get closer and listen to its magical melody.

How could be something so beautiful be considered dangerous?

Taking another look around, Y/N made sure they were alone. Secretly having run off to follow this sound they managed to pick up on. It’s not like their parents would look for them on account that their parents were already dead.

Now the Elders took care of them, but they were usually too busy with clan business to realize when they ran off on their own adventures.

Once again checking that there were no Ghasts or other dangerous mobs around Y/N climbed over the rock. Landing on what looked like a pathway that led to the black frame.

Closer to the structure Y/N took the time to get a good look at the rock that has been used for the frame. It was a deep black and yet it somehow seemed to have a purple shine. If it came from the vortex between or the rock itself Y/N couldn’t tell, nor did they care enough to figure that out. Too amazed by it.

The sound was now really loud, and Y/N could tell that it came definitely from the purple light. It seemed to swirl in of itself almost like liquid and yet it stayed in the air as if it were glass put between the stone.

Mesmerized by it the child slowly put their hand into the light, trying to figure out what the material was.

But the only thing they felt was how cold it felt and it seemingly pulling on them. Trying to pull them deeper in. Scared Y/N immediately pulled their arm away, holding it close to their chest. Warming the cold limb up with their own body and the temperature of the Nether.

They have never felt anything like this. It was interesting. They knew what cold was but never like this. Only having felt an occasional breeze from jumping around or running around and even then, it was nothing compared to what they just felt.

Was this vortex doing this? Was this the purpose? Is this the dangerous part? How?

Y/N was already so incredible curious, but this really spiked their curiosity. What would happen if they just stood in there?

With this question in mind the kid placed one foot in the frame, soon followed by the next. The vortex completely engulfing them. Purple being the only thing they were able to see. This cold feeling immediately hitting them like a brick wall.

With a surprised grunt with how huge the temperature difference was, the child jumped away, hoping to get back to the familiar warmth but as they did the cold didn’t disappear.

The portal was still there but suddenly there was this bright light all around them. White as far as they could see.

Now panicking the child desperately looked around but their body was still dealing with the sudden temperature drop.

The world spinning around making it difficult for them to get a good look at where they were. Darkness crept in at the edges of their vision which they desperately tried to fight against.

Without realizing Y/N crashed onto the white ground which seemed to be even colder than the air around. Sneaking into the thin clothing and prickling at the skin. Their heart beating incredible fast and, in their ears, and yet they suddenly felt so tired.

The coldness that was so uncomfortable before suddenly turning more comfortable. Their breathing calming down as their eyes fell shut. Submerging themself into the world of darkness.

Luckily for Y/N, Technoblade was on his way towards the Netherportal himself. He managed to run out of Blaze Rods and needed to gather more for his potions only to spot something or rather someone lying face down in the snow.

At first, he assumed that for some reason Tommy managed to knock himself out while wandering over for whatever reason but the closer he got the more he noticed that, no, the body was way too small for that.

Also, he was pretty sure the last time he checked Tommy didn’t sport similar pig ears like Techno.

The voices in his head were pretty calm until they realized “Kin? Our kin? Out here? Our or his kin? Is it our kin as well?”

Techno approached the small body. This child was shaking and wet due to the snow. The clothes soaked. How the hell did that child just survive the travel to the Overworld like that? It was more likely that Piglin’s die during that process and end up as just a husk. A zombie if you will.

Not a lot of Piglin are strong enough to survive this magic. Techno should know he almost died when he traveled over and only survived because he had Philza on his side who helped him through it.

Impressive and yet he didn’t particular care.

“Parents? Orphan? Are they an orphan? Oh! Blood for the Blood God? No! Look at them! They are already dying! They must be something special surviving the portal like that! Are they though? Aren’t they dying? More because of the cold than anything! What about their parents?”

Grumbling Techno stepped into the portal himself, ending up in the warm nether. Hoping to still the curiosity of the voices a tiny bit with this. A sense of nostalgia spreading throughout his body and senses as he looked around the red landscape.

The child’s parents have to be around somewhere. Rule number one in the nether for Piglins was to stay together no matter what. It was dangerous in the Nether and the relationship between blood kin was precious. They must be already around here. Picking up on the child’s scent to find them.

And yet. Nothing.

No Piglin, no anyone.

He wandered a bit in, but he didn’t even spot any close group of Piglin’s running around. Weird. Was that child really alone?

“Check on them! Techno! Check on the child! See if they are still there!” the voices yelled out, infuriating the warrior a bit.

“Alright, alright!” he gave in and once again stepped into the portal. The cold hitting him but at this point he was used to this and managed to reacclimatize himself pretty fast. Not immediately and it still took a few minutes, but he didn’t almost pass out every time.

No surprise there. The child was still laying in the snow.

Once again, the voices flared up in his mind. A few demanding blood while others still expressed their curiosity towards this orphan.

Too busy with his own plans and things to do Technoblade took out his sword aptly called “The Orphan Obliterator”. He just wanted to deal with this situation as fast as he could, so he could move on.

Moving the sword up in the air only for the voices in his head to suddenly erupt loudly.

“No! Stop! Do not! Don’t kill! No! Techno! Please!”

This was very much not like their usual behavior. Usually, they would welcome any chance for bloodshed. Calling for it even in situation where it was just inconvenient and unnecessary but now, they don’t want it? Okay, maybe he should listen in to the voices after all.

“What is going on, Chat?” he asked.

And the voices, even if loudly and talking over each other, answered “Save them! Take them with you! They are special! Protect them! They are your kin if you give them the chance! We are sure! A young child able to survive this? Sounds similar to you Techno! Take them with you! Save them! Please! They deserve the chance!”

The problem with Chat was, they sometimes knew more about the world than Techno and it has paid out listening to them, but they also liked to just follow their whim for fun. Though this seemed to be the former. They realized that the child was special and worth saving, even if only in their ,sometimes omnipotent, eyes.

Sighing Technoblade sheathed his netherite sword and pulled off his red cape.

Realizing what Techno was doing, Chat begun cheering. The voices that had demanded blood before now fully drowned out.

Technoblade knelt down and carefully heaved the piglin onto the cape, wrapping it around them. Their body was unsurprisingly incredibly cold. So cold that Techno worried they didn’t have a lot of time left. Well, worry was a strong word perhaps.

Holding the kid close to his chest he got a good look at their face. Their expression scrunched up in what he assumed to be pain. A few light scars on their face. It wasn’t unusual that Piglins sported a few scars but not that young. The parents were usually too protective over their young.

“Must be a real troublemaker, I bet.” He noted.

Scars already at that age and them running through a portal just like that? Yeah, that child must cross the line between brave and stupid a lot. Not that he could fault them. He wasn’t that much different as a child himself, though he would never admit it out loud.

“They are kinda cute! It’s a child. Children do that. What do we do with them? Save them first. Talk to them. Figure out if they have potential! Kin? Kin! We need to talk to Philza. Dadza! Grandza! Oh! Yes! Grandza!”

Techno shook his head, as if that would make the voices shut up “Chat, please. Don’t assume anything. I might just help them out and find a clan for them to get back to. We don’t have the time for a child to be around. Too busy with the Syndicate.”

While Chat wasn’t happy with it, they seemed to be glad enough that Techno was acting against his instincts to help this orphan out. If the others hear that the Technoblade has helped out an orphan, well, he hoped people won’t. Doesn’t want to be seen as a hypocrite and as someone who keeps his words, and threats.

With the kid in his arms, he made his way back towards his cabin. Apparently, the Blaze Rods had to wait after all.

As he walked up the stairs towards his cabin and walked in, he suddenly got very aware he had no idea what to do. Looking around his eyes fell on his fireplace but that somehow seemed dangerous. Probably bad idea to just lay down an unconscious child right next to the fire, right?

Instead, he remembered that he had a spare bed roll sitting around somewhere.

With the cape still wrapped around the little one he pulled out the bed roll and laid them inside the rolled-out bed. While tucking them in he made sure to let a bit breathing room in. Letting their body slowly warm up instead of instantly.

“Food. Food, Techno. Eat. The child as well!”

Ah, yes. What would he do without the voices reminding him to eat?

Normally he would just pop a potato in the furnace but not this time. If he is already cooking, he might as well cook for the both of them. Soup seemed appropriate. Now, if he only remembers the recipe and instructions Philza gave him way back.

Still a tiny bit annoyed he has to put off getting the Blaze Rods, Techno sat down and begun cutting up vegetables and heating up water. Putting the ingredients into the water and putting spice in after tasting it here and there. It definitely wouldn’t be a masterpiece but as long as it not tasted absolutely horrible and still warmed one up from the inside, this should be fine.

The child better not complain after he already went out of his way saving them from the cold. He really should have just killed them so he wouldn’t need to get through this trouble and could actually get work done but Chat really was acting weird.

The cooking process took longer than he expected. Long enough that his own pig ears suddenly heard some noises, groans, coming from behind him. Looking back, he saw how the small Piglin was moving around in the bed. Slowly sitting up. Their eyes still closed.

“You are awake.” He stated in Piglish. Knowing, that they probably couldn’t speak the common tongue of the Overworld.

They opened their eyes but were still squinting. Either in pain or not used to the light yet.

“Where am I? Who are you?” grunts coming out of their mouth that made up Piglish words.

For a second Techno had to hide his smile as he realized that it has been a long while that he spoke with anybody his native tongue.

“You are in the Overworld. In my home to be specific. You are lucky I found you or you would have frozen to death in the snow. Name’s Technoblade by the way.”

It seemed to be difficult for them to wrap their mind around this new information “Overworld? Technoblade?” they repeated as if this would give them more insight.

Not knowing what else to tell them, Techno turned around and begun pouring the soup into a bowl. Walking over to them to give it to them.

A bit wary the child pulled their arms out of the cape that was still wrapped around them. The white fluff tickling the back of their head. It seemed to be an old cape. The fluffy part not being as fluffy as you would have assumed anymore. The fur dirty and strands glued together. Things that just happened over time even if you washed it quite often.

“My, uh, my name is Y/N.” they spoke, grabbing the bowl and looking inside it.

“I’m not poisoning you, you can eat it. Warms you up and once you feel good enough you can get back into the Nether.” He then proceeded to pour himself a bowl and begun sipping it.

It was edible. That was something.

Y/N kept watch as Techno continued to slowly drink the soup out of his own bowl. Drinking some of the food as well, their eyes widened out of pleasant surprise when the soup seemed to warm them up from the inside. Craving more of this warmth they begun gulping the liquid down in seconds.

This place was certainly warmer then when they got out of the portal but it was still cold enough for them to shiver. Where in the world were they? Never have they seen any of these materials around them. Grey cold stone, dark brown wood, white walls decorated with colorful pictures? It seemed almost unreal to them.

“How are you feeling squirt? Good enough to go home yet?” There was a bit of hope in Techno’s voice. The sooner this passed the better in his book.

“Home.” Y/N once again repeated what Techno said only to hold the bowl up towards him. A shy but determined expression on their face.

It took Techno a second before he understood what they wanted “More? More soup?”

The child enthusiastically nodded.

Sighing Techno got up from the chest he was sitting on to refill Y/N’s bowl and as he pushed the warm bowl back into their hand Y/N opened their mouth again “Uh, Overworld? I am in the Overworld? What- What is that?”

“A different world to where you come from. It has hot places and cold places. Different things and different mobs as well. Very different but both places are connected. You came through one of the portals that lead to this place, it also leads back to the Nether. Now, tell me something. I haven’t seen your parents. I was looking for anyone but there was no one. Not even a random group walking around.”

Y/N first slurped more from the soup before they answered “My parents are gone. I live with my clan. I always run off and they get mad at me.”

Techno knelt down to Y/N and softly pressed his hand against their forehead which made Y/N freeze. Scared and confused with what he was doing.

He let out a deep breath, wincing as a few voices begun yelling inside his mind “Ah. Seems like you have a fever. Guess I could help you through it and in the meanwhile try to find your clan. Might as well show you a bit of the Overworld while we are at it. Not a lot of Piglin get the chance to see the Overworld after all. You certainly are a special case.”

Then he turned around and talked to the air “Happy now Chat?” Turning back around to face Y/N again “Are you okay with that, Y/N?”

It was still difficult for them to grasp the whole of the situation but to get the chance to explore this Overworld? With this Technoblade Piglin? Their curiosity was certainly piqued. Maybe they were still too tired, and their head was pounding but there was this little voice in their head that urged them on.

That told them “Go for it. You will learn a lot! He might be your true kin.”

So, they nodded silently agreeing in Piglish “Yes. I think I am okay with it.”

#mcyt x reader #dsmp x reader #dream smp x reader #mcyt reader insert #mcyt x Y/N #dsmp reader insert #dsmp x Y/N #Technoblade x Reader #Technoblade x Y/N #Technoblade reader insert #Ramza writes #anon request

968 notes · View notes

rcksmith · 3 years

Text

I want to do bad things with you — Five Hargreeves

Request: “6 from fluff and 4 and 8 from smut list for five hargreeves?”

Fluff Prompts:

6. “I’m going to marry you one day.”

Smut Prompts;

4. “Are you sure that’s what you want? I could really hurt you.”

8. “I don’t care how good it feels you’d better not cum until I tell you to.”

A/N: We not tolerate any pedophilia here !!

I write about Five with their 20s. I write the same about the characters of Harry Potter.

I hope it got close to what you wanted. ❤️ This is a heavy smut, I was in a bad mood, sorry jsnsjsnsjsn.

Guys, I really understand who doesn't feel comfortable reading or writing Five's smut. But I always say that I only write with him (any genre: romance, fluff or angst) with the notion that Five is 20 years old here. All of my fanfics mention swearing or sex, even if it is a memory or something shallow, but as I am writing with Five as an adult, it is consistent that the fic has aspects of an adult life.//

English is not my first language, so I so sorry if have a mistake.

Requests are open. Love you ❤️

Couple: Five Hargreeves / Fem! Reader.

Warnings: SMUT, SMUT, bad words and bad smuut.

— — — — —

Five Hargreeves were many adjectives. Genius, superhero, handsome, dangerous, sinic, arrogant, born leader, among other things. His energy was intense and mysterious, and looking him for too long was like facing the stormy sea: dangerous and risky, but extremely fascinating.

He carried many adjectives on his back, is truth, and domineering was one of them. His life was a constant line of stress, problems and exasperation, Five felt irritated most of the time, so relieving all that stress in sex was... it was fucking good.

Normally, his emotions were always on a tight leash, under iron control. Five was composed, controlled, taking everything rationally. Even in sex, when he vented all his anger, he was conscious. Until you show up.

You were a little, sweet, lyrical little thing and... fuck, you had an angel face that made Five clench his jaw as soon as he laid eyes on you. And then controlling yourself became a much more difficult task. You had a cunning, catlike look, but an face so pure that it hooked Five into the his soul.

He couldn't get involved with you, he repeated that every fucking day. Five could barely look in your direction without wanting to hold your angel face and kiss you with the fury of hell. Five wanted to fold you in front of him, slap your ass until you blush and hear you whimpering his name. He wanted to do all the dark things in his mind to break your doll energy.

Five Hargreeves was many things, but the irony of all was how they swayed when he fell in love with you. It was inevitable. Over the months, while trying to control his thoughts, he found himself admiring your intelligence and sense of humor. He started to notice how you loved sweet tea and had headaches when you had coffee, which is why he started to leave a migraine medicine in the kitchen if you needed to.

With the days, Five now hid his smile when you laughed at something stupid and admired how the world seemed sweeter when you were happy.

And that's when he kissed you. And his whole view changed. When he held your face between his hands and tasted your lips, Five felt like he was touching Egyptian crystal, and then the urge to protect you was born. He didn't want anything or anyone to hurt you, anyway. Five touched you so delicately and made sure that nothing bothered you.

So that's when you two slept together. Fuck, it was so fucking hard for him. Extraordinarily difficult because Five wanted to make you scream and fuck you so hard. It was difficult as hell because he wanted to hit your ass and thigh so hard that he could see the marks tomorrow. And... son of a bitch, even though you moaned and squirmed, you looked like a fucking angel. And the desire to desecrate something so pure became even bigger.

And that was why he avoided touching you during those hours. He kept his hands on the mattress, on the headboard, on the walls or on the pillows, avoided touching you as much as possible. Because Five knew... it was already too hard not to fuck you rough, hard and intense, if he touched you... it would be the end. He didn't even want to kiss you too much, or suck on your skin, because one thing would lead to another and... God, you fucked his mind!

It was after a few months that he realized he loved you. And your relationship will become even more serious.

"I love you so much.” You whispered on his lips one day, with the cold and rain falling outside, and you curled in him up like a pet.

Five nodded, him lips on you forehead, brushing them there as appreciated what that phrase did to him. You two had already said that a few months ago, but you loved to keep repeating it and Five appreciated how right the universe felt when you said that.

“I'm going to marry you one day.” He sighed through your hair, lowering lips to yours before receiving your ecstatic and passionate screams.

But the more love grew in you two, the more hunger, lust and sin grew within Five too. Was like a wild beast, hitting the bars of the cage, almost breaking what kept under control. And controlle herself started to be physically painful. So he tried to put out that blazing fire.

Seeing you naked has become excruciating torture. Five fidgeted uneasily whenever you changed in front of him, took off the towel after a shower. But the worst was when you two had sex. Fucking you, feeling you pulsing, squirming, totally submissive to his whims, made Five have to acquire phenomenal self-control. Although Five exhibited a cold, arrogant and confident personality, everything inside him became a boiling volcano when you appeared.

“Baby…” That was when Five heard you purring, you had just come out of the shower, a short white towel covering your body.

When Five looked at you, and saw you walking towards him, he pulse reached alarming levels. Normally, Five always managed to keep his impulses under control, even though it was an overwhelming endeavor. But not today.

Oh, he was far from being in control. Your doe eyes looked at him docilely and Five felt again the overwhelming appetite to take you so badly.

God, he needed to break you…

You didn't make it easy for Five either. Oblivious to the internal battle within him, you sat on his lap, supporting your legs on either side of his hips, with the towel rising to the top of your thighs and your bare skin sitting on his already pulsating member.

Five snarled softly, hands tightly squeezing the bed sheet, your body pulsing beneath his. He felt hot as if were in the Sahara desert.

“You are so tense.” Your voice was velvety, soft, and you brought your lips to his neck. And that was too much.

“Y/N..” Was a warning.

“Something wrong?” You pulled your face back enough to look at him.

Five shook his head, hands still clutching the sheets. You followed that gesture with your eyes, and started connecting the pieces second by second.

It was no longer today that your felt him controlling himself. Moments he didn't want to touch you at all while he fucked you, like you were a hot iron. Days when he forced a little more force into the way he kissed you and then completely backed down.

“I've been noticing a few things lately...” You commented, the left index finger playing with his uniform “I noticed that you have ... controlled yourself, as if you were holding something.”

And then you looked into his eyes, and what you saw in the green sockets was a lust so fervent that you felt yourself losing breath.

“Y/N...” the voice was still hoarse, a ring signaling his warning as well “I ... I won't be able to talk about this with you.”

“Why not?” You didn't know exactly what the problem was, how deep it went, but you knew something was going on. “I did something? Or are you more stressed? ”

“You did not do anything.” He assured you, and as he saw in your eyes that you would not let the matter pass, because you were determined as hell, Five sighed deeply. “It with me. It has nothing to do with you, I just... I like to do more... rough things. "

You were watching him closely, the direction of the conversation was pleasing to you... It wasn't today that you knew your own tastes, and something brutalized and stronger was exactly what you liked. But Five was always so controlled, so reserved, that you were still looking for an opening to bring it up.

Five must have noticed that your eyes took on a different glow, and he looked at you as if he suspected.

“Why that look?” His little corner smile made you smile too.

“ I didn't know you liked things like that.” Five raised an eyebrow at you, the little smile still on his face. “Is that why you have been controlling yourself?”

Five had to take a deep breath, hands going to your waist under the towel, in a soft, controlled touch. But his hands were stiff, you felt it.

“I do not want to hurt you.” He was succinct “I have more aggressive, brutal desires, and I don't want to take it out on you.”

Oh, you were really enjoying the conversation.

You let out a low chuckle, playing with your index finger on the lapel of his uniform.

“Like ... hit me and stuff?” Then you felt his grip tighten on your waist, his jaw tighten.

Five looked at you with a clear warning that you were walking in rough waters. That it was better for you to stop here. He could barely cope with his own thoughts about it, let alone hear you say those things with that fucking angelic voice of yours.

"What if I wanted to?” Now your eyes were bright with amusement and anticipation.

“You can't tell me these things” His grip got stronger, his eyes more fierce, the energy more irritable “Even more naked in my lap.”

Five might be covered in clothes, but he could feel your hot pussy under him, the soft skin of your thighs around his waist, your breasts a touch away... Damn, it was too much for him!

“I mean it.” You ran your fingers through his hair, resting your hands behind the back of his neck. “I like something hard too, if you are willing to try this on me, I would like us to do it. You are always so focused... I would love to see you more out of control. ”

Five kept his eyes on you, as if he were looking for some hesitation in you. But he found none. Just shared desire.

God help him.

“Are you sure that’s what you want? I could really hurt you.” He wanted to warn you, he wanted you to know it was a path of no return. Five could destroy you and him wanted you to know that.

“Yes.” You agreed “I want it so much.”

Suddenly, something in the air seemed to change. Everything became rarer, more caustic and crackling. Five's intensity had reached extremely high levels and he looked at you as if you were the prey on a night hunt. Five pulled harder on your towel, freeing your naked body. He gasped, his eyes fixed on you.

“Say red when you want me to stop.”

You were going to say something, but he didn't give you a chance. His hungry lips stuck to yours. It was a controlling kiss, drowning out you surprised moan. Five stood with you on his lap and threw you on your back on the mattress. You gasped, your naked body exposed on his bed, given over to all the profane fantasies he had in mind. Seeing you there, submissive, destroyed all the control he had.

Oh he was going to destroy you.

Five remained standing, pulled your legs over the edge of the bed and opened them aggressively. You let out a heavy breath, the core pulsing. God, seeing that made him rock hard.

Five leaned over your body, pressing his lips in you before moving to your breasts, sucking on aching nipple, squeezing the other in a heavy touch. His hands left you for a second before him straightened up and removed he blazer and sweater from the academy, his nimble hands pulled the tie knot fiercely, tearing the piece of silk from his neck.

“Be quiet for me, dear.” Five put your hands together, tying your fists with the tie and tying the tie to the headboard.

You bit your lip, your body fidgeting for him, the core throbbing. Five had barely touched you and you were already pulsing for him.

“You are so needy.”

Without warning, he was leaning over you, him lips on yours, his hands roaming your body in a rough touch, his mouth pinching your lips. And everything started to get heavy after that point. Five closed his mouth on your neck, leaving a trail of purple hickeys as he brought two fingers to your mouth.

You took them in, sucking without waiting for an order. But his fingers on your mouth seemed to have an even more exciting effect for you. You legs closed, wanting to seek any friction, but Five slapped your left thigh roughly, brutally separating them with his free hand.

“Did I tell you to close your legs?!” You whimpered, and he gave you another slap “Answer!”

“N-no...” You did your best to speak with his fingers in your mouth.

“No what?!” Another slap. Now you could feel the flesh throbbing. You pulled on your fists, trying to control yourself not to close your thighs again.

“N-didn't”

Now his free hand went to your chin, forcing you to look at him.

“It's ‘No, Daddy’!”

“No, Daddy!”

“Good Girl.”

Five withdrew his hand from your mouth, bringing it down and melting it into your pussy. You moaned louder, forcing the tie, shifting your hips. He didn't give you time to breathe before he buried his fingers in you, hitting your walls.

You screeched muffled by his lips on your, as his hand pushed against you frantically, slamming inside you at a brutal pace.

“F-fi...”

Another slap. Stronger, more aggressive.

“What did fucking you say?!”

“Daddy! I mean Daddy! I’m so sorry.”

He accelerated his hand even more, and you started frantically pulling on the tie, trying to get rid of or gain more of that ardor. You were starting to feel close to orgasms when Five pulled away, slapping your bare breast as he rose again. You whimpered in protest, your hips still making some movements in search of some ghost friction.

“Look at you, so desperate and I haven't even fucked you yet.” Five began to unbutton his white shirt, stripping off his clothes and leaving the belt beside you.

You excitement went to extremely high levels when you saw his cock jump out. Pulsating, molasses with pre-cum and dashed with thick veins. Your core throbbed, dripping your liquid while you whimpered.

Five smirked when he noticed where your attention was, and he leaned you, but now bringing the belt with him and placing it around your neck.

God, he was going to fuck you so hard.

Five gave a tug, testing the accuracy, and when you groaned needy, Five appeased his own excitement by sinking his bruised lips into yours.

He stood up again, pulling your legs closer to the edge as he brushed your pussy with the throbbing head of the stick, watching you squirm. It was torture for him too, but the sight of you struggling for contact was a fucking reward.

“Please d-Daddy!” You whimpered, rummaging in despair, wanting more of anything he give you.

“Please, what? ‘Please, daddy, fuck me hard’ or ‘please, daddy, use me’ ?”

You were begging, with tears in the corners of your eyes as he played with you, by sinking the head of the stick inside you. It was driving you crazy. Five held the base of him penis while he sank just another inch into you, then pulled and rubbed your clitoris.

“Fuck me h-hard, Daddy!”

Suddenly, Five entered you brutally to the bottom, leaving you speechless in a loud and silent groan. He pulled you by the belt, not giving you time to get used to the size, he established strong and aggressive blows.

“Do you want hard?! I will give you hard!”

Then Five untied the tie from the headboard, turned you brutally on you stomach and pulled your hips up. He pulled his hand back and unloaded it on your ass, and you screamed, staggering forward. Five pulled you by the hips, dissatisfied with your distance.

“Be good girl for me, dear." It was an order.

You obeyed, crying out loudly when Five pushed the stick inside you aggressively, pulling on your neck with the belt. He held you by the belt and the waist while he fucked you. Hard, fast, without any abandonment.

His hand hit the flesh of your ass from second to second, and you can't help but moan for it. He gave no respite, the sound of his bodies colliding flooded the room, perhaps the entire mansion.

Five has never felt so hardcore in life, so hungry, so lust. He wanted to break you, hurt you, squeeze your flesh so hard that you would be left with marks for months. He groaned, trying to concentrate on mistreating the walls of your pussy, pounding with brutality, harder and cruel.

“D-d-daddy!”

Tears streamed into your eyes as you dug your nails into the pillow hard, unable to contain the moans and the tremor in your thighs. Your belly vibrated, hummed with hyperstimulation, that was paradise and sin at the same time and you felt that you could fall apart at any moment.

Five pulled the belt tight, bringing you up and sticking your back to his chest. He put his free arm around your waist, bringing the thrusts in slow, hard rhythms, making you feel every inch of him.

You hands went to him arm around your waist, the new position reaching the most sensitive places, making your pussy throb. You bit your lip to try to control your moans, because you were afraid they would be too loud.

“Without trapping those sounds for me!” This time the slap came down on your left breast, followed by a deeper thrust, and you begged for excuses while looking for air “Let everyone hear who's making you feel so good! Who does this slutt belong.”

That pushed you further into the abyss. Five sucked on the skin on your neck, pouring out a strong hickey while you could only scream and whimper for him, unable to do anything else. . He entered you deeply, taking whatever inch you had and forcing you to take it deeper.

Five did not allow you to move an inch away, your hips clinging to his, held by his arm, him fucking you hard without you can moving your hips. He could feel you blinking on his dick, making your honey drip down your thighs. His hunger had given no respite, and when he looked at you, and he saw your angel face in an expression of pleasure, pain and dirty with tears, it further fueled Five's hunger.

"That, little slutt!"

You were close, pulsing on his dick, sweat running down your body, your broken moans. Five loved how you were a mess for him, your whole body scarred because of him. He never fell your owner as much as he does now. You begged for something you didn't know what it was, but Five did. And he would give it to you. But he felt your pussy squeeze him, swallowing him in a broken way.

“You can't come until I let you!”

“Da-daddy!” You moaned louder “Please! Please! I need... I need it! ”

“I don’t care how good it feels, you’d better not cum until I tell you to!”

Five came out of you, turning you brutally on the bed once again, removing the belt from your neck. He climbed on top of you, now sticking your body to his, placing his mouth on yours in a gasping kiss. The skin-to-skin sensation was maddening, you were both hot, sweating, and Five squeezed your thigh tightly before slapping it down again. Your wrists were still tied, and you could only press them against his broad chest.

Your thighs were shaking and Five was delighted by this, he traced hickeys all over your breasts, and sank into you again when he sucked on your left sore beak.

Five held you while he fucked you in that position. Strong, cruel and hard. His hands were glued to your flesh, marking your skin with purple from his digits, holding his own moans. And you watched him with your mouth open by the screams and the sight. He was beautiful like that. Wild, his skin all sweaty, his teeth closed on his lip to keep from groaning, his black hair stuck to his forehead.

It was too much torture, too much stimulation, and you were already letting the tears flow while you were begging for something.

“Come to me, my good girl.”

Five didn't have to say it twice. You came intensely, your pussy sucking all of his cock and receiving the hot, thick liquid of his as a reward. You threw your head back in abandonment, feeling him it sink into you deeper, making sure you got all his sperm.

“Such a good girl for me.” Five whispered as he gave you a reward kiss you.

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fandom-collective-writers · 3 years

Text

Flames of Jealousy (Diluc Ragnvindr x MC)

Fandom: Genshin Impact

Pairing: Diluc Ragnvindr x MC(F)

Warnings: NSFW, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Penetration, Orgasm Denial

Written by: @voltage-vixen Prompt: Jealous Sex

Notes: The MC featured in this story is a former traveler that is of age.

“Diluc, is everything alright? You’re not acting like yourself.”

Ignoring MC’s expressed concern, Diluc snaked his fingers tighter around her own, and proceeded to storm through the village at an increasing pace as he dragged her along for the ride.

They had attended (unwilling on Diluc’s behalf) a gathering hosted by none other than the Knights of Favonius. Often one to avoid these types of shindigs where civilities were long forgone as the liquor poured throughout the eve, Diluc had exhausted all options of excuses for not attending when the former traveler he was presently dragging away had insisted upon making an appearance. The woman who had chosen to remain in Mondstadt in the stead of pursuing the journey her brother ventured on with after reuniting with one another; she had chosen to reside stationary in the great nation of freedom to remain by his side. The least he could offer up was to stand by her side as the proud partner of the honorary knight.

That was until that bastard entered the scene. More specifically, that cryo bastard. Kaeya naturally was the object of the affection of many suitors; in which made Diluc question why the Captain of the Calvary had chosen to stand so closely next to his suitor. The two were exchanging what seemed to be innocent enough pleasantries-but it wasn’t until Kaeya flashed that panty dropping smirk in MC’s direction did Diluc find himself storming across the foyer.

“Pardon. Allow me to extend my deepest apologies, but I’m afraid we must be taking our leave now. An urgent matter has come up at the guild,” Diluc explained to the nearby guests loitering in the grand hall. Latching onto her wrist, Diluc yanked MC towards the large doors to make an exit without allowing any sort of refutes. MC blinked in confusion at Kaeya’s perceptive wink, and waved a swift goodbye to Lisa and Amber before being dragged fully out of the castle.

Damn, him. Damn, him all to hell! Who the hell does he think he is putting his hands on my woman?!

Furious thoughts of jealousy raged throughout Diluc’s mind, swirling around like the fury of a violent storm. Wanting to wipe Kaeya from his mind, the animosity shifted onto MC instead. Why in the name of the archons was she allowing other men (least of all one that drove him loony) to position themselves in such a close vicinity to her? Gods, did he love this woman more than his own life itself, but she was due for a lesson. He was going to instill a sweet punishment upon MC that she would never forget. Turning the corner, they soon reached the front of Angel’s Share. Throwing the door open to the closed pub, Diluc slammed it shut behind them before his hands were drawn to her body.

The wielder of pyro’s hands descended the trace of MC’s hips until they cupped the curve of her rear end. She breathed a wistful sigh as he fondled the sensitive mound of flesh. Flames of passion scorched through her veins, igniting her body in a burning desire so fierce, her knees trembled in duress at the grazing heat of the tycoon’s caresses. MC swayed into the embrace of Diluc’s chest, crashing into him as she fervently grasped onto his shirt to brace herself.

“Please,” a breathy whisper slipped from the purse of her lips. “Please, Diluc. I can’t wait any longer. Make me burn for you even more.”

Chuckling, Diluc drank in the sounds of MC’s moans amid lifting her up and settling her onto the counter of the bar. Yearning for more, MC’s hands were drawn to the back of his head. Tugging him closer, their lips collided with such a fierceness, her breath lingered, and a pleasurable tingling consumed the greedy inclination between her legs.

Diluc longed to satisfy his dear MC. Gazing down at the woman in question, she was a sheer exquisite mess of beauty. Her dress was hitched above her hips, sweat trickling down her thighs. The pupils of MC’s eyes were coated in a desirous lust, and her tongue traced the crease of lips in anticipation of what she was aching for. Oh, great archons did he want to worship MC. Both in body and soul, the nobleman wanted to take her here and now, drowning her in all the whims his affections had to offer.

Alas, his ravishing of MC would have to take pause. For flashbacks of Kaeya’s smug stupid face as he purposely taunted the owner of Dawn Winery danced into his mind. The way MC unsuspectingly smiled at the flirting ministrations the captain tossed her way infuriated Diluc. Never did he question her loyalty to him, but still….a tiny reminder of who MC belonged to wouldn’t harm anyone. In fact, it could even prove to be an enjoyable experience for the two of them. Slipping underneath the disheveled fabric of dress, Diluc caressed her thighs affectionately as he ascended higher until-

“Already, my ember? The real fun hasn’t even begun yet,” Diluc crooned, pressing two of his fingers against the wet fabric of the thin undergarment serving as a bothersome barrier for the woman writhing beneath him.

Diluc’s grasp around her waist tightened while he nonchalantly guided his fingers up against her lingerie, rubbing circles of friction against the wetness of her slit. MC’s nails clawed into his chest as the digits on his hands pressed proactively onto her core, occasionally flicking the bud of her womanhood. Diluc nudged his forehead against hers and leaned in to lick the bead of sweat trickling down the side of her face.

“Your eyes are practically begging me to indulge you even more,” Diluc huffed.

Making haste with his own trousers, his pants fell to the floor of the deserted pub. The pads of his fingers gripped firmly onto the trace of her silhouette. His clasp on MC was so tense, he could already make sight of the light bruises forging vividly, staining the surface of her skin. Concerned his jealousy consumed him with an out of line rashness, Diluc was about to withdraw until MC threw her arms around the base of his neck. Refusing to let her man pull away, she cradled him closer to dimiss the distance between them.

“Hold me tighter,” MC solicited, alluring to his carnal desire by batting her long lashes. “Remind me who I belong to.”

“Take care you heed not forget those words. Remember, you are mine, and mine alone,” his honeyed response melodiously rang into her ears as Diluc’s hips snapped forward to enjoin the pair as one.

Sensuous whimpers echoed yonder into the abyss of the tavern whilst MC entrusted herself to Diluc’s spoils. Reaching out to clutch the mound of her ass to brace her from the force of his thrusts, Diluc grunted in between the slaps of her breasts heaving down against her chest from the vigorous momentum of each gratifying movement. Diluc entwined his fingers in between MC’s, as her hitched breathing increased in volume. This response of hers was a telltale sign that approaching the final destination was within sight. He leaned in to pepper her fine skin in kisses, occasionally licking away at the beads of perspiration coating her.

“Diluc,” she breathed, desperate to catch the breaths he stole, yet unable to deny the pining fueling her tantalizing lust.

“I know,” he murmured, lifting her leg to enfold it around the cut of his toned waist to allow him a more accessible angle of entry.

“MC, everything about you is captivating,” he whispered. “Your very essence exhilarates the fibers of my very being. Never forget that.”

“Ah, stop torturing me, Diluc,” she moaned during the course of each of his lavish pecks that were assaulting the nape of MC’s neck.

“I shall cease the vexing of this punishment if you surrender and concede yourself over to me,” Diluc demanded, his tone raspy as he pined to bear witness to the scene of MC immersing herself while he drove her to climax. “Say my name-no, scratch that. Scream my name. Scream my name until that lovely voice of yours goes hoarse. Shout high and loud to the mighty archons that I’m the only one that will ever be able to please you.”

Halting the snapping motions of his hips, Diluc held firm and reached out to cradle MC’s chin. Tilting her gaze to lock into his own, he etched the part of her lower lip with his thumb. Tauntingly slow, Diluc slightly shifted the angle of his lower body, further inflicting torment on his squirming companion. Instead of bestowing the release MC was anticipating, the vision holder held her desire hostage by denying any additional penetration.

“Pledge yourself in a vow that your flames shall only ever be ignited by I. Do it. Do it now, and I will set you free from this heat.”

“Diluc, I-DILUC!!!!!”

An extravagant wanton scream escaped from MC, since despite Diluc’s request, he simply couldn’t bear to waste another moment and plunged deeper back into her core. The lewd sounds of her wetness resounded in the air as he pounded into MC, bucking madly, eager to remind her that it was him and him alone that would always be there to fulfill each and every one of her fantasies. It would be him, and him alone, that would allow MC to use him emotionally and physically as she sought fit to indulge in her heart’s content.

Wrapped around each other, the lines of where he began and she ended were lost in the swirl of pleasure trickling down to the curl of their toes. The heat consuming them was greater than it had ever been prior to this rough lovemaking session, and Diluc chewed on his lip to will himself to hold on for just a while longer.

Come on, hang in there.. Not until MC is satisfied. I can feel her tightening around me, so surely she should be finishing any moment.

Diluc’s prayers were answered, because he felt the familiar tightening of her encompassing around him. A wistful sigh accompanied MC’s relieved one as her body quivered from the aftermath of her coils fluttering from reaching her ograsm. Her body heaved and her back arched down onto the counter of the bar. Heavy and dropping from the aftermath of pleasure, MC was ready for a post-sex slumber and cuddles with Diluc. Placing her hands on the wood counter, MC was about to drop down onto the floor when the grip of her man encircled her suddenly.

“Bold of you to assume we were finished with your punishment,” Diluc coaxed, ignoring the squeal when he flipped MC over. Her bountiful chest was pressed flat up against the hard finished wood of the counter. “You were quite the naughty little vixen today, my ember. Perhaps another round should help you more clearly understand the error of your ways.”

Flinching out of reaction, the tension faded away and MC relaxed onto the counter while Diluc sprinkled kisses on her bare back. She whimpered when his arousal pressed once again at her opening, but then groaned when he pulled back.

“Fear not, my darling,” Diluc crooned, running his hand to tenderly stroke her back. “I plan on pleasuring you in all of our favorite positions until I’m satisfied that the fact that you are mine is engraved in your heart.”

His fingers twined through her hair, and Diluc gave a slight tug to bring MC closer to him. She wiggled her bum in the air impatiently, and groaned when his lips touched the responsive spot.

“Diluc,” MC swooned, her words as wet as the happy tears trickling down the side of her face. “I’m yours, my hero. Only yours, for now until forever separates us.”

“Until forever…..,” Diluc mimicked her promise, and willed his body for another round. Those were the final words uttered as they were eventually replaced with incoherent babblings, moans, and whimpers from the delight of losing themselves in each other.

The fates would ensure that Diluc and MC would live a prosperous future together. That much Diluc was sure of. Despite his perceptions, Diluc abided into a vow that for the rest of their days together, he would spend any amount of time reminding MC of just that fact.

#genshin impact #diluc ragnvindr #genshin impact fanfic #genshin impact smut #genshin impact fanfiction #diluc ragnvindr smut #diluc ragnvindr fanfic

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