#rain sounds are just not doing it for me tonight ladies

[cooliogirl101]

WTL Deleted Scene

The bar had been closed for an hour and Mitsuo was in the process of cleaning up when he noticed the woman standing by the door. It was raining hard outside but she didn’t seem to notice or care, looking completely lost in thought.

Mitsuo hesitated for a moment before making his way towards the front.

“Can I help you?” He asked politely. The woman jolted slightly, before staring up at him with wide, startled eyes.

“No,” she said after a brief pause. “No, it’s okay. I shouldn’t have come. Sorry for disturbing you.”

She turned to walk away and before he could think better of it, Mitsuo reached out one hand to grab her shoulder. She went alarmingly stiff under his touch and he hastily let her go.

“I apologize, I didn’t mean to startle you. It’s just that, well.” He took in her drenched clothes, the lack of umbrella, the water droplets running down her face. “You look like you could use a place to warm up.”

She glanced at the very blatant ‘Closed’ sign on the door before looking back at him.

“I think we have time for one more customer,” he said, answering her unspoken question, and stepped aside to allow her in.

~~

“So that bad, huh?” The woman, who had introduced herself as ‘Hana,’ asked casually. Mitsuo raised an eyebrow at her.

“What do you mean?” He asked, sliding a cup of tea over to her.

“The way I look.” Her lips quirked up slightly, a touch of humor entering her eyes. “I figure it has to be bad if strangers are taking pity on me and allowing me to take shelter for free after hours. Be honest, on a scale of drowned rat to drenched owl, how bad are we talking?”

He took in her shoulder length sopping-wet brown hair, brown eyes, brown coat. She did look a bit like a bedraggled animal, actually.

“Hmm, more along the lines of wet cat, to be frank,” Mitsuo said, smiling. “How’s the tea?”

She took a sip, then drew back, surprised. “This-- ”

“Not bad, right?” Mitsuo chuckled.

“Well. The standards of tea have certainly improved since the last time I’ve been in Inuzuri,” Hana remarked. “Must mean this place is doing pretty well, right?”

“You could say that.” They certainly weren’t lacking money anyway. “I think we have some food leftover in the back. Let me see if I can scrounge up something.”

“You don’t have to,” Hana protested. “Seriously, you’ve done more than enough.”

“It’s no trouble.” Mitsuo smiled briefly. “Besides, it’d hardly be polite to let a lady go hungry. Why don’t you take a look at a menu and see if anything catches your eye?”

“Absolutely not, I’m not going to—wait, who came up with the names of these drinks?” She asked incredulously.

“Ah yes, I’m afraid my brother had quite a bit of fun coming up with them.” Mitsuo grinned, suppressing a chuckle. “My sister, she was of the belief that we should be trying to attract a more diverse clientele and suggested that creating cocktails designed to cater to both men and women might be a good idea. Kazuki—my brother—thought it was ridiculous and was deeply upset at the idea of serving ‘girly’ drinks in his bar. Unfortunately for him, he was unanimously outvoted. The compromise was that he would be allowed to name the drinks.”

“And K—and they approved these?” Hana’s lips twitched as she scanned the list. “The Red-Hot Pineapple Monkey? Oh dear, the person who inspired that one must be a…character.”

Mitsuo hummed his agreement, hiding his surprise. It wasn’t often that newcomers guessed the cocktail names were inspired by actual people, and that one was a comparatively less obvious one.

“Maybe I’ll try something after all. This one sounds promising—the Flower Power Glower.” She laughed. “I’m sorry, it’s just that one…I mean, I would have loved to—” Her voice trailed off, shoulders slumping slightly. “But I guess that’s not possible anymore.”

Hana glanced up at Mitsuo, a wry twist to her mouth.

“Maybe alcohol isn’t such a good idea tonight.”

“Maybe not,” Mitsuo agreed gently. “And for what it’s worth, I understand. I’ve lost people too. If there’s anything I can do to help, I’d be glad to give it a try.”

“Thank you, that’s very kind of you.” She hesitated. “There is one thing. I just—your family.” Hana looked down at her hands, fiddling with her mug. “They sound like…like an amazing group of people. Would you tell me about them?” There was an odd urgency to her voice now, words coming out just a touch too fast. “Please?”

Mitsuo paused. By all means, he should decline her request. It wasn’t exactly a secret that two highly-ranked Shinigami came from their household and although neither Rukia nor Renji visited frequently these days, it wasn’t unfeasible that someone could come seeking information to use against them. And yet, he couldn’t help but instinctively trust that this woman meant him and his family no harm.

He hadn’t lived this long by ignoring his instincts.

“What do you want to know?” He asked.

~~

They ended up talking for hours. Honestly, they probably could have ended up talking for longer had Kazuki not stormed in, shaking droplets of rain out of his hair.

“There you are! The bar closed hours ago, where the hell have you—who the hell is she?” Kazuki drew up short at the sight of Hana and Mitsuo sitting across from each other at the bar, halfway through their second pot of tea. Hana looked at him with the same wide-eyed look she’d greeted Mitsuo with.

“Manners, Kazuki,” Mitsuo said dryly.

“Shut up, this ain’t the goddamned Seireitei,” Kazuki retorted without taking his eyes off Hana. “So who is she?”

“She is able to hear you,” Hana said, a touch sardonically. “You can call me Hana.”

“Just Hana, huh? No last name?” Kazuki asked, eyes narrowing slightly.

“You’re hardly one to talk, given that you haven’t provided either of yours,” she retorted without missing a beat. He blinked, then grinned.

“Fair enough. You can call me Kazuki then.” His eyes fell onto the mostly-empty plate of gyoza on the table. “Aw man, I was hoping to eat those later.”

“Don’t worry, we saved the smallest one for you,” she replied, tongue-in-cheek. Mitsuo blinked. That had almost sounded like—

“I mean, thank you for the drinks and the food,” Hana said hastily, interrupting his thoughts. “How much do I owe you? And don’t tell me it’s on the house again, I mean the real cost.”

“How much do you want to pay?” At her uncomprehending look, Kazuki smirked. “We operate on a donation-only system here. You pay what you want, and if you don’t want to pay anything, that’s perfectly fine too.” He looked her over. “Actually on second thought, I second what Mitsuo said. It’s on the house—please use any money you have to buy an umbrella.”

“That doesn’t seem like a viable way to run a business,” Hana pointed out.

“Don’t worry about that. Anything that isn’t covered by donations just gets added to Hisana’s tab,” Kazuki shrugged.

There was a pause.

“Hisana’s tab?” Hana questioned. Her voice was very small.

“It’s a system we set up in honor of our late sister,” Mitsuo explained quietly. “Well, us and her fiancé at the time. Anyone who comes to this bar only needs to ask in order to be fed.”

It had been Kuchiki Byakuya’s idea. The amount of money he donated on a yearly basis could feed more hungry orphans than existed in all of Inuzuri.

“Oh.” Hana swallowed. “That’s—that’s a really nice thing to do. I’m sure your sister would have loved that.” She stood up and bowed. “I’ve taken up enough of your time. Thank you for your kindness—I can’t tell you how much it means to me.” 

“You have a place to stay?” Mitsuo asked, concerned.

“Of course. You don’t have to worry about me,” she smiled. “I’ll be fine.”

Mitsuo pursed his lips, studying her closely. There was something oddly familiar about her, something that had been bothering him all evening. Not her features—no, Mitsuo was quite certain he’d never seen this woman before in his life—but in her tone of voice, the way she tilted her chin up—

He shook off the sense of déjà vu and smiled at her.

“In that case, please feel free to come back at any time. You’re always welcome,” he said sincerely. “I hope to see you again.” 

Her smile softened into something a little more genuine.

“As do I,” she murmured. “Take care, Mitsuo, Kazuki.”

“So. Hana, huh?” Kazuki commented as soon as the door shut behind her. “Someone you know?”

“Not at all. I’ve never seen her before tonight,” Mitsuo replied honestly. “Why?”

He shrugged, staring off into the same direction Hana had left.

“Nothing. Just feel like I’ve met her before.”

~~

Hisana: “You don’t have to worry about me, I’ll be fine” while very much the opposite of fine

Mitsuo and Kazuki, immediately: wait why does this girl seem so familiar

Deleted this scene because I decided Hisana wouldn't risk going back to her family until Aizen was no longer a threat, no matter how much she missed them. But I figured I'd share this snippet anyway, hope you guys enjoy!

#walk two lifetimes

[xiaowhore]

hydro dragon, hydro dragon, don't cry!

premise. in which you manage to make neuvillette feel better at the expense of your dignity. (a fair trade, really.)

word count. 1.5k

note. do umbrellas exist at teyvat. i really don't know.

You've never taken Monsieur Neuvillette as the type to dramatically brood in the rain when he gets sad, but to be fair, you don't know much about him at all.

You clutch onto your umbrella, contemplating. So, uh... Are you supposed to approach him now? Shield him from the rain with your umbrella? That doesn't sound too bad, actually. But then what? Ask him if his pet fish died and now he's mourning his loss? That's hardly appropriate to say to the Chief of Justice... But it would be creepier to just stand there without saying anything, right?

You could leave and pretend you didn't see anything. Of course, that's an option too. It's possible he prefers to be left alone when he's unhappy.

But sulking while standing in the rain just gives “I want someone's attention” vibes, doesn't it?!

With a fit of reckless courage and a “fuck it” mindset, you advance your way forward to where he stands.

Regretting something as soon as you do it is on-brand for you, you realize as you soon come to learn you have to be on the tip of your toes to have the umbrella barely raising over his head instead of hanging from him. You must make a pathetic sight, attempting to shield both yourself and this hulking tower of a man from the rain with a tiny umbrella.

“...What are you doing?” Neuvillette turns around, taken aback when you're in much closer proximity than he expected. Panic flares in his eyes, and like the gentleman that he is, he steps back to create some distance. His head presses against the edge of the umbrella.

“Hey, you shouldn't move away!” You follow his movements, closing the gap. His head is now safely within the umbrella's reach, but you're an inch away from being pressed up against his chest. “I miscalculated. This thing's too small for us.”

When the initial shock wears off, his shoulders slump, a sign of him lowering his guard. “If you know that much, you should use it for yourself and go home.”

That doesn't sound like a bad idea. Appealing, even. You've never felt so silly in your entire life and the option to run away is looking more enticing with each second that ticks by.

Still.

“It's dangerous to walk alone at this hour. Won't you accompany me, sir?”

...Not the best excuse you could've come up with, but your mouth runs faster than your brain. Neuvillette, being the considerate person he is, actually takes some time to think about it, and you hurry to say, “If you leave me alone now, you could have another disappearance case in your hands tomorrow. Would you really like more work on your desk rather than some company tonight?”

He gives you a long, suffering stare that looks suspiciously like the one he gives to Lady Furina when she disappoints him, but he doesn't say no. His hand wraps around the umbrella handle, overlapping with your fingers. It takes another two seconds of that stare before you get the message and you let go, finally able to rest the balls of your feet on the ground as you stand on normal footing.

“I hope you don't make a hobby of coercion,” he hums as you walk together, your shoulders brushing every so often. “Or else I'd see you as a criminal suspect tomorrow instead of a victim.”

“I see that jokes aren't your strong suit, Monsieur Neuvillette.” You laugh awkwardly, your nervousness spiking to an all-time high throughout your entire interaction with him. It's been barely ten minutes.

Silence ensues.

“Do you like showers, sir?”

You should've just kept your mouth shut, damn it.

“I like them the same amount as the average person, I suppose.” The ridiculous question doesn't phase him, and you don't know how he's able to keep a straight face while saying that.

You decide to push your luck. “...Do you prefer bathing with cold or hot water?”

Finally, you draw out a light chuckle from him, the sound deep and pleased. It almost makes playing the fool worth it. “I've been told I'm not the best with small talk, but you seem to be worse than I am.”

Your head snaps up to look at him, affronted. “It wasn't a bad question!”

“Certainly not as bad as talking about the weather. Do you want me to praise you?”

Was the Chief Justice always this sassy? “You're making fun of me,” you point out the obvious, turning away and crossing your arms. “I asked about showers because you were standing in the rain.”

“You thought I liked showers because I was in the rain?”

“Well, I didn't know for sure. That's why I asked.” Even you can tell you're sounding more and more ridiculous by the minute. Was your house always this far? You can't wait to dive to your bed and pretend this encounter never happened. “I think I'll just shut up now.”

“Really, now?”

“Every time I open my mouth around you, I embarrass myself further. I think it's for the best.”

You hear another chuckle as heat crawls up to your cheeks, spreading to your ears. “For what it's worth, you did put me out of my terrible mood. You're quite funny.”

“That's a nice way to say you think I'm being strange.” You hide your face with your hands, peeking at Neuvillette's expression between your fingers. Bathed in the silvery moonlight, he looks straight out of a painting, even with wet hair and drenched clothes.

You've never seen him up close, never even dreamed of standing next to him. Now, you're exchanging jabs at each other like it's the most normal thing in the world, like you weren't just thinking he was someone out of reach when you watched his court trial in amazement. Now, he's so close that you can almost feel the heat from his body, so much more tangible than just a figure you admired from afar.

“But I do have your strangeness to thank,” he admits, looking off into the distance. The stars shine bright in his eyes. “Had it not been for you squeezing me under your umbrella and forcing me to walk you home, I'd surely still be under the rain.”

“...Couldn't you have phrased that better?”

“In court, I only state facts.”

You laugh dryly. “You could spare me some dignity by embellishing the story a bit... Oh, we're here.” You were so occupied defending yourself from his witty comments that you didn't realize you had already arrived home until your door was right at your face. You glance at Neuvillette, who then nods towards the door. If he's disappointed to have the stroll cut short, he doesn't show it.

“Go in. It is rather late.” He closes the umbrella and offers it back to you, a gentle smile on his face. The sight is almost like a reward for your efforts; the small upturn of the corners of his lips makes all the difference, his sharp, cold gaze softening into something more affectionate. The rainbow after the storm. The gratitude for a small kindness.

“You have to get home, too,” you utter, pushing it back to him.

“The rain stopped a few minutes ago,” he insists, gesturing behind him. You blink owlishly, observing the still pools of rainwater. You didn't even notice. Why didn't he say so? You didn't have to squeeze together under such a tiny umbrella, then.

“You should still keep it.”

He raises an eyebrow, inquisitive. “Why?”

You unlock your door, stepping inside, but still not closing it shut. “Well, it gives you an incentive to see me again.” You grin at him mischievously, like you thought of a genius plan. “I work at the cafe in the main street. I'm sure we have some tea that will strike your fancy. Make sure you're not moping next time we meet, yeah?”

Not for the first time, he seems taken aback. But his gaze softens once more, his expression molding into something pleased. “Very well.”

And so, he leaves with a small umbrella in his hand, a smile on his lips, and the clear skies over his head.

The next time you see Neuvillette, the sun is high in the sky. Compared to that night, you can see him a little better now.

That's how you notice he looks unusually shy with a bouquet of flowers in his arms and a pink blush high on his cheeks. “...Good afternoon,” he starts, his lips curving to a beginning of a smile. “The weather is great today, isn't it?”

You stare. You stare some more. And when the sight finally processes in your mind, your twinkling laughter rings in the air, as sweet as the aroma of freshly baked muffins. “And who stooped so low to talk about the weather this time, huh?”

Neuvillette can't even pretend to feel bad about it, not when you're jumping off the seat in the counter to show him a table for two. “Your silliness is infectious, it seems.”

“Hey!”

(You've never taken Monsieur Neuvillette as the type to be smart-mouthed, the type to be indulgent to your whims, the type to be romantic towards the person he's interested in—

But now you have all the time in the world to get to know him better.)

#neuvillette x reader #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact imagines #genshin x reader #genshin impact scenarios #neuvillette #neuvillette fluff #neuvillette x you #genshin impact x you

[504py]

Candlelight and Calluses - Knight!Leon Kennedy/Reader

A particularly unruly thunderstorm begs you to ask your knight to stay by your bedside, just for a little bit.

i see quite a bit of bodyguard leon fics so i always thought he'd fit into a knight au rather well. art by me!!

Historical inaccuracies, I'm terrible at old-timey speak LOL, reader referred to as "my lady" but no other gendered terms or descriptors besides that, no use of Y/N, relationship is dubious so this could be seen as platonic, romantic, or however you'd like.

1, 2

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

It seemed like life would continue like normal after your former knight was discharged for stealing from your mother, and Leon came to replace him. He definitely feels more trained, more skilled, more refined, someone very reliable, so you can see how he was hired so quickly.

Somehow, you just can't get used to his presence, though.

You see him at very scheduled times of day. He sleeps in a room close to yours, mother said its safer to have him closer at night in case someone breaks in. If you're awake early enough, you can catch him leaving his room. You see him training in the courtyard through the window you pass by when you head to the kitchen. He always escorts you to your bedroom and says goodnight when you decide to call it a day, and stays posted near your door for a few minutes, before retreating to his own for the night.

Tonight, you ask him to stay just a little longer. Rainy days never really bothered you, but the thunder today was particularly bad. It was painfully loud and booming, each strike and roar making you flinch in the anticipation that the ceiling might cave in on you any moment and swallow you whole. You knew he was there to protect you, that's the main reason he was here, but your cheeks burned at the loss of your pride when you give him your request.

His expression, illuminated by the lantern in his hand and highlighting the sharp planes of his visage, is slightly different than usual at your query. His dark eyebrows are slightly raised, the frown on his lips not as deep as it usually is. His eyes are softer.

"Of course, my lady."

You head inside your bedroom, your sight settling on your nightwear set on your bed by one of your maids. You turn to Leon, asking that he leave while you change, but his back is already turned to you. You figure he got the hint, and you undress.

He's listening intently to the sounds of cloth shuffling, till he hears your weight dip your mattress, "Have you finished dressing, my lady?"

"Yes, I'm all done." You reply. Your voice is weaker than usual, perhaps scared that the thunderstorm will hear, and a crackling boom will respond, instead of Leon.

He turns back to you, seeming to pause for a moment, thinking of what to do. You've never seen him do that, perhaps this situation is new to him. That thought makes your face warm in shame.

"I... Shall I stay in the room, or shall I stay at my post, milady?" His voice is quieter than it usually is, too. Admittedly, it's a little hard to hear each other with how loud the rain is.

"If... If it would be alright, Sir Leon, could you stay by the side of my bed? Just until the storm subsides. I'd hate to keep you here for too long."

"It is no trouble to me, my lady, I promise."

He makes his way over to you, confidence in each step despite being so unfamiliar with such a strange, intimate request.

"...You can grab that chair by my vanity, Sir Leon, you don't have to stand."

He obliges, grabbing said chair and setting it by your bed.

He's dressed in a simple cream-colored linen blouse and trousers. You can see his neck. You breathe out a laugh realizing that this is probably the first time you've ever seen it. He wonders what you find amusing. You rarely ever see him without any armor on, maybe just a glimpse when he leaves his room in the morning, and even when he's not in full steel plating, he's usually donning chainmail.

"...Is it heavy?" You mumble, drowsily.

"What is, my lady?"

"The armor you wear. Is it heavy, Sir Leon?"

"Well... Not particularly, milady, but perhaps I've just gotten used to it. It does get hot, though."

"Mm..." You hum, "Always wanted to try it on, always wondered what it was like... I know mother and father won't let me, though." You chuckle.

Leon smiles a little, maybe the first time you've seen him do so. "Maybe I'll let you try on my helmet someday, milady."

"Really?" The drowsy smile you send him makes him feel warmer, "That'd be nice... I always thought the armor you knights wore looked so fashionable." Your eyes close.

He laughs slightly, and the sound is clearer now. Without realizing, the storm had passed, and you feel at ease. Leon waits a little longer, counting your breaths and seeing if your eyes will open again. He thinks the way your eyelashes rest against your cheeks look beautiful.

"Sir Leon?" You mumble, barely legible.

"Yes, milady?"

"Have a good night..." You add, before dozing off.

"You as well, my lady. Good night."

He waits a few minutes more, like he usually does when he escorts you to your door. He's never watched you sleep before, despite this being part of his nightly routine. He wishes a little more that thunderstorms would happen more habitually so he could do this more often.

Leon gets up, and quietly places your chair back to your vanity. He returns to take his lantern from your bedside table, and he pauses, watching you for a few beats more, before retreating to his bedroom for the night.

"...Calling me just Leon would be fine." He ends, with a whisper of your name.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

#leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #re2 #re4 #resident evil #resident evil 2 #resident evil 4 #leon x reader #leon kennedy x reader #resident evil au #leon s kennedy x reader #resident evil x reader #🫧 #🛁 #resident evil fanart #resident evil 4 fanart #re4 fanart #re4 art #resident evil art

[moralesispunk]

it is WINDY where I am in Scotland today but it got me thinking about being outside with husband/bf! simon riley on a windy day

you were just going to the shops, needing to get some things for dinner, but Simon insisted on coming. he patiently walks up and down the aisles with you, swapping the basket you had first picked up for a trolley.

"might as well just do a food shop while we're here," you said, throwing another thing into the trolley and Simon just nodded because anything for you.

by the end the trolley is packed with your weekly shop and Simon is pushing it towards the door. you're walking beside him, a hand tucked around his elbow as you ramble about plans for dinner that week, some lunches you can make for work, maybe get a takeaway tonight though? it is Saturday after all...

Simon just hums, throwing in a "sounds good" or "what about a spag bol Wednesday?" but then the doors open and...

it's like a storm without rain, the trees at the other end of the car park and shaking and swaying until it looks like they're about to rip out from the roots and you gasp beside him but he just chuckles.

"just hold on and stay behind me," he says and so you do, fingers clinging to his jumper and Simon's big, broad form taking the brunt of the wind.

he fights through it like it's nothing, making it to the car all the while you're laughing and having the hood of your jumper whipped around as you cling to Simon against the oncoming wind.

he gets you inside, closing the door behind you, and then gets to packing the food into the boot. you watch as other shoppers walk quickly with the wind pushing at their back or fight against the wind to get to the car. the boot slams and you watch simon take the trolley back, laughing at how he looks like he's walking on a windless day compared to everyone else, and then your heart warms when you see him help a lil old lady back to her car, winking at you when he catches your eye through the window.

(and he absolutely gets back in the car and nods his head towards the car parked a few down, to the lady waving at him now she's safe and sound, and says to you "just my other wife/spouse")

#simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon riley x y/n #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost riley x y/n

[nycbaby21]

Luke Hughes Imagine

prompt: after a date stood you up Jack and Luke come to the rescue, one more than the other

word count: 2,981

I looked down at the time on my phone for what felt like the millionth time tonight and sighed. I hadn’t been on a date in a while and let someone from work try and set me up. I was gonna give him ten more minutes and then I was leaving, which is very gracious in my opinion seeing as he is fifty minutes late. The sad look on my waiter's face and the hushed whispers from fellow customers made me want to cry. I also could see them starting to clean the tables and I knew they would be closing soon. “Excuse could I get the check for my drink please,” I try to smile but I can’t help but let a couple of tears build up in my eyes. “Oh no sweetie. You are all good,” the kind older lady smiled and placed her hand on mine.

“Oh no really you don’t have to do that. Please let me pay,” I insist pulling out my wallet to pay. She gave me the look of a scolding grandmother and I sighed nodding my head. Her face quickly shifted back into the sweet one she had before. “Thank you,” I smile standing up and watching her walk away. I grab the salt shaker off the table and place the money I was gonna use under it as her tip. They gave me a small wave and warm smiles as I walked out into dreary New Jersey weather. The rain started just as I was getting to the restaurant and had only picked up more. I stood under the canopy and scrolled down my contacts til I got to Jacky Boy 🤩🥱🫡. 

The line rang and rang,” Hey Y/n. What’s up shouldn’t you be on your date?” I let out a loud sigh and tried to hold in my tears. I have known Jack for a little over a year now, I moved in down the hall from him and we made quick friends. I knew he would never judge me for crying, but I just felt so stupid crying over another to him. “Uhm yeah funny story,” I started and let out a sad laugh,” Does it count as a date if the other person didn’t show up?” I hear rustling in the background and him shushing someone. “He didn’t show,” he asks sympathy filling his voice. “Nope. I am standing outside of the restaurant crying like a loser in the rain. No text. No call. Nothing,” my voice started to break as my sentence got longer.

“What a fucking asshole,” he grumbles and I hear more movement and the sound of his keys. “Okay just stay where you are. We are on our way, okay, sit tight,” his words rushed out and I heard the faint start of his car. “Send Luke your location,” he told me. I put him on speaker and pulled up a text to the youngest Hughes. You started sharing your location with baby hughesy 🤭👶🏻🏒.”Okay, I just shared my location,” I say putting the phone back to my ear and pulling my jacket tighter around me. “Okay, we are on our way Y/n/n. Hold tight,” Jack says into the phone. We stayed on until I saw them pull up. 

I put my phone in my pocket, ran out of my shelter, and jumped into the backseat of the car. “Did you eat,” Jack turns around and takes a look at me. I shake my head no and he nods passing me his phone to order something. “Jack I’m fine really,” I say trying to hand it back to him. “Seriously Y/n. We haven’t eaten yet either. So just pick out something and Luke can do ours,” he says leaving no room for argument. I couldn’t help but tear up again, this time because of how thankful I am for them.

After getting back to the apartment building, I try and walk back to mine but Jack stops me. “No ma’am. You are not going to be all sad and alone,” he ushers me into their place. As we pass the hallway mirror I cringe at how bad I look. “I have makeup wipes in my bathroom,” he offers and I smile heading that way. After finally making myself look somewhat presentable, I head out into the living room taking a seat next to Luke on the couch. He looked over and gave me a small smile. Jack walked back in with plates for the food when his phone started ringing.

I grabbed it from his hoodie pocket because his hands were full. “Who’s Andie,” I ask handing him the phone back. He blushes and silences the call. “It’s the girl he likes from downstairs,” Luke explains while he passes a plate of food to me. “Why did you ignore it,” I ask sliding down to the floor and putting my plate on the coffee table. “I have company. It would be rude,” he says in a duh tone. “Since when have I been company,” I laugh poking fun at how I was always over here.

“I’ll just text her and reschedule,” he says dismissing it and flipping through to find a movie. I snatch the remote from him and make him look at me. He finally sighs and says,” We had plans tonight, but it’s okay really.” I give him the remote back pretending to be okay with it and when his guard is down I steal his phone and jump up behind the couch. “Y/n. Give me that back,” he whines jumping up and trying to reach me. Every move he makes I counter. I unlock his phone and push on her contact. When it started ringing I had it back to him,” there you go.” He goes to yell at me but he can’t because she answers him.

When Jack stands there all frozen Luke reaches up and grabs the phone. “Hey Andie, it’s Luke. Yeah. Uh-huh. Jack was in the shower getting ready for tonight when you called the first time. I know. Okay, I’ll tell him. Bye Andie,” he hangs up and puts the phone down on the table returning to his plate of food. “Well,” Jack looks at Luke waiting to hear the message. “Sorry, I was starving and had to eat a bite first. She said she’ll be up in like thirty minutes so you guys can go,” the younger brother says nonchalantly. Jack looked over to me where I had finally returned to my original spot on the floor. “I don’t have to go tonight. I can stay here with you. I don’t wanna leave you alone,” he says.

“What the hell am I? Chopped liver,” Luke asks raising his arms. Jack rolls his eyes at him and looks back at me. “I’ll be fine J. I have Lukey here with me. Plus with you gone we can finally watch that movie you complain about every time we go to put in on,” I say smiling up at him. He lets out a sound of agreement and puts his hand down to high-five me. “Okay if you are sure,” he says going to get ready. Luke starts up the movie and lets the title screenplay until Jack leaves. “Okay well, I guess I’ll see you guys later. Call me if you need anything okay,” he says leaning down and kissing the top of my head. “Will do. Now go. I love you,” I yell as he walks towards the door opening it to see Andie.” Just let me grab my keys okay,” he says letting her walk in.

“Hey Andie,” Luke waves still eating. “Hi, Luke,” she smiles walking into the living room. “You must be Y/n. The guys have told me tons about you,” she smiles at me. “Knowing these two I’d be scared to find out what they said,” I laugh. “All good things trust me. I can’t wait to get to know you better,” she says. “Me too. I have so many good Jack stories,” I laugh looking at him. “Yeah probably not,” he says ushering her towards the door. “I’ll call you,” she yells. Luke and I laugh and he starts the movie while we both finish eating. After finishing we take both of our plates to the kitchen and I plop down on the couch.

“Well make yourself comfortable Y/n/n,” he teased picking up my legs and putting them on his lap when he sat down. “I will thank you,” I nudge him with my foot. We stayed that way all throughout the movie. “I don’t know why J complains about this. I loved it,” I say sitting up. “Yeah and he calls me the baby,” he jokes. “They don’t actually see you as a baby,” I say standing up and stretching. “I don’t know,” he shrugs jokingly. “Well, I don’t see you as a baby,” I say heading towards the door. “I’ll be right back. I’m gonna go grab some clothes and get out of this dress.” I hear him stand up and I turn around. “You can borrow something of mine, well ours if you don’t wanna go all the way back. And Jack would kill me if you weren’t here when he got back,” he rambles off.

I start laughing and shaking my head. “Luke breathe. You can grab me something,” I say grabbing his arm and squeezing it as I walk past him. He stands there a second and then almost sprints to his room. I can’t help but smile at how sweet he was being. Luke has always been really nice to me ever since I met him. Jack and Quinn tease him all the time about having a crush on me. He always just rolls his eyes but his cheek flushes and the tips of his ears turn pink. “Okay, here you go. I got a shirt, sweatpants, and a sweatshirt just in case you are cold,” he smiles passing the clothes my way. “Thanks, Hughesy,” I head back to change and his room is closer so I just stop in there, Also the idea of Jack’s bedroom does kinda scare me.

I quickly change and as I go to leave a picture on his dresser stops me. Putting my dress down on his bed, I walk over and pick up the picture. It was of him, Jack, and I after his first New Jersey game. I had met him a handful of times when he came up with Ellen and Jim for games. I smiled at it and put it back where it was. I had no idea that picture even existed. I walked back into the living room and put my folded dress on the countertop. The second Luke sees me he laughs. “Stop laughing at me, you jerk,” I smile at him and hit his chest. “I’m not laughing at you. It’s just how many times have those sweatpants been rolled up,” he looks down at the folded-over sweatpants. “It’s not my fault you are a giant,” I poke his arm. 

“Okay shortstop what are we watching next,” he looks over at me with a shit-eating grin. “I hate you,” I laugh taking the remote from him,” just for that we are watching a rom-com.” I pick my favorite one and hit play. “You don’t hate me,” he says not taking his eyes off the movie. “I don’t,” I ask faking confusion. “Nope. C’mon we both know I am your favorite Hughes,” he says wiggling his eyebrows. “Sorry Lukey. That spot is reserved for Mama Hughes,” I say and laugh at the face he makes. “I meant brother dummy,” he rolls his eyes. I turn to look over at him and notice his ears have already turned a light shade of pink. “I mean look at my choices,” I laugh and he does too,” but of course, you are my favorite dummy.” I mocked him back. He leaned over and bumped me with his shoulder. I smiled but chose to ignore him.

About halfway through the movie, I started zoning out and thinking. All of the guys I had dated recently sucked. None of them treated me anywhere near as good as the guys did and I’m not even with them. I started thinking about how Luke treated me. He always notices the small things, he constantly checks on me, and he always makes sure I am comfortable. He was everything I had written on my mental checklist for a guy. So why haven’t I ever thought of him like that?

“Whatcha thinking about,” he said bumping my shoulder again. I hummed and looked over at him. It was weird how I had looked at him so many times but this was the first time I truly noticed how attractive he was. “Nothing,” I say bumping his shoulder back with a smile. We both look back to the movie and I lean over and put my head on his shoulder. I feel him stiffen for a second and then he relaxes. Somewhere between that movie and the next one I fell asleep. I felt Luke shift slightly and felt a blanket being thrown over us. 

The flash of a camera wakes me up. I try and sit up but I notice Luke is resting his head on mine. “Dumbass, why didn’t you turn the flash off,” I see Andie hit Jack’s arm. “Sorry,” he smiled and we both rolled our eyes. “You two look awful comfy,” he teases. “Way better cuddle buddy than you,” I say leaning more into Luke. In his sleep, he shifts and his head falls to my shoulder. “Uh-huh. Does Y/n/n have a little crush on Lukey boy,” Jack jokes taking off his jacket and throwing it on a chair. I give him a look and just shrug my shoulders,” if I do?” He stops for a second and tries to see if I was joking, which I wasn’t. Tonight with Luke has been the most fun I have had in a long time.

“You aren’t messing with me are you,” he asks looking the most serious I had ever seen him. I can feel the heat on my face from the question and the sudden attention on me and I shake my head no. He looks at Andie and then back at Luke and me and he smiles. “No way! This is great. You can be my sister-in-law now,” he yells and Luke slowly sits up and looks around confused. Andie tries to cover her laugh but she fails terribly. My face was deep red because I hadn’t even told Luke and now Jack was screaming it to the whole state of New Jersey. “Who is your sister-in-law,” he asks voice still thick with sleep. “Oh, don’t you pretend with me, Lukey. Y/n already let it slip,” Jack walks over and gives him a fist bump.

After hearing my name Luke realized he was still laying on me and moved over some blushing. “Let what slip Jack,” he asked confused.  Jack looks over at me and his whole face drops. “You haven’t told him yet huh,” he asks quietly. “Nope,” I sigh refusing to look at anyone. “Tell me what,” Luke asks in a small nervous voice. “Well, I think Jack has said enough for the night. Goodnight guys,” Andie smiles at me and pushes Jack towards his room. “Ow,” he says after we hear a bump. “Good that’s what you get,” she laughs closing his door. “What haven’t you told me Y/n.” I finally look over at him and he has a sad face.

“Oh no it’s nothing bad Luke I swear,” I put my hand on his trying to comfort him. “Look if Jack made it weird with the whole sister-in-law shit I am sorry. I had this small crush on you and he likes to tease me,” he says shyly finally looking over at me. “Had,” I ask looking back at him. “What.” I scoot over a little closer and take a deep breath. “You said you had a small crush. Does that mean you don’t anymore,” I say hoping Jack and his teasing wasn’t off. “Yeah I had a small one when I first met you,” he said and my face dropped and I tried to scoot back,” but now I have a huge one.” I feel his hand grab mine and rub his thumb over it. “That’s good,” I smile.

He leans closer and asks,” Yeah? Why is that?” I shake my head with a smile. “Because maybe I have a crush on you,” I whisper back due to how close our faces are. His eyes flicker all around my face trying to find a sign to stop. When he didn’t he slowly leaned forward some more, our lips almost touching. “Is this okay,” he asks breath fanning all over my face. “No. I don’t think you are close enough,” I smile. “Well we can’t have that can we,” he says closing the distance between us. Kissing Luke made me feel more than I have ever felt kissing someone. “So glad that guy didn’t show up tonight,” he said referencing my flakey date earlier. I smiled and him and put my hands on his face,” What guy?” I pulled him back into me.

After a few more kisses we break apart and he moves me into his chest cuddling me. Everything was just so comfortable with Luke. “Man, I can’t believe I didn’t notice you sooner,” I say nuzzling deeper into his embrace. “Doesn’t matter, at least you noticed me now,” he says into my hair. “Who would have thought it? I always went after older guys when apparently I should have gone younger,” I laughed and he quickly joined in.

#nhl imagine #new jersey devils #luke hughes imagine #luke hughes #nycbaby21works

[pinksugarscrub]

The Pirate Princess

Pirate! Hobie x Princess! reader

Scenario: To @the-kr8tor and the anon who inspired me. I present; the sea, swords, and an overly complicated love triangle!

Prologue, ???

You fidget with the handle of the blue teacup in your hand. Gold embellished in the rim. It’s cold, unnaturally so, but it’s finally stopped raining. The sky is clear except for a few puffs that look like balls of cotton the royal gardener grows. It’s peaceful inside the walls you call home. 

“If you hold the thing any tighter Princess, I’m afraid it will break.”

Instinctively you loosen your grip at the sound of his voice. So familiar you might as well hear in your head at all moments in the day. Your palm stings from how long you held it to the porcelain but you hide it well to avoid being scolded. 

You smile as you bring the steaming cup of tea to your lips. Your second, or third since this morning. “Harry, you’re late.”

He chuckles, brown curls shielding the roll of his eyes but you know him well enough to know he’s done it. When he sits you kick at his leg with your heel. Not hard but enough to annoy him but you can hardly do anything to get on his bad side. Everyone finds the need to tell you that aside from Miguel, Harry has a severe soft spot for you. 

He yelps, nearly falling off of the garden chair across from you. Dramatic of course, what kind of General would he be if a measly kick brought him to his knees. “That damn hurt (y/n)! I was only a few days off.”

You laugh as you lean back in your chair. Harry already moving to place your legs over his lap. It’s become routine everytime you see each other. Which is rare nowadays. 

“Well, you never leave a lady waiting.” Placing your tea back on the table to pour one for your friend (the maids would disagree). The action is a bit difficult given your position and the exceptionally puffy dress you’re wearing but you make do. “Especially your future queen.”

Harry doesn’t protest. Watching you with a look that he wouldn’t be caught dead giving anyone else. His fingers softly caressing the skin of your ankle. 

“Yes, well…” Taking the cup graciously once you extend it to him. “If her majesty was more inclined to acting properly she should be more understanding.” 

He recognizes the flavor as soon as it hits his tongue. Rose, your favorite. You’re worried.

He doesn’t push. Opting for you to voice your concerns if you deem it necessary. “Pete was showing me some more of his contraptions.” 

You gasp, nearly dropping the sugar in your spoon. “Peter is here?” 

You’re ready to slide out of your chair and run into his study. He left weeks ago with his apprentice. Something about metal? Vibranium? You can’t remember.

Harry catches your legs before they can hit the ground. Laughing as he holds you still. “Yes yes but let me have a moment with you before we have to listen to his regular tangents.” You whine which is unbecoming of a princess but the action makes Harry's smile grow wider. “Oh come on, I know you prefer Peter over me-”

You look absolutely appalled as you try to swat at him. Harry catches your hands with ease and kisses your knuckles to turn your expression into a happier one. Your laughter fills the garden and for a moment, just a moment, you forget about the war. Forget about tonight and…forget about how you’re going to break Harry’s heart.

At least you got to see him one last time.

-

An hour earlier . . .

-

Your head is pounding, everything is so loud. Words leaving lips left and right. Squeaky and demanding.

Curling your fingers into the tulle of your skirt you stare blankly at the map at the center of the table. Black splotches of ink on shorelines and townfronts you’ve only seen in paintings. Crossed out with a single flick of a wrist.

You gasp softly as a hand lands on your shoulder. Firm yet kind, you recognize it instantly. “Miguel,” you exhale. The bouncing of your knee ceasing. 

The man doesn’t answer. Just purses his lips. Your stomach drops as he clears his throat, loudly and unabashedly. All eyes shift and conversation comes to an abrupt halt. “This meeting is adjourned. It’s a quarter passed twelve. Return to your homes.”

The men go to protest. Of course they would. It's war. But a hand raises, an emerald ring on the pointer finger.

His voice is gruff, mostly from the smoking he used to indulge in with your father. The memory causes some tension to leave your shoulders. “Gentlemen, we have taken most of the day. I don't see what's wrong with ending early. We may even come to a better resolution by morning with the proper rest.”

These men are ancient so they take ages, centuries even, to shuffle out of the small room. Grumbling like children it’s almost comical.

You sigh. In relief or exhaustion, you don’t know. Your body aches from sitting so long on your father’s old desk chair. You don’t have to look back to know you’ve left an impression on the seat. But then again, with how thick your petticoat is you might be nonexistent to the velvet.

Miguel extends his hand out to you and you take it. Offering him a quick nod before walking over to the entrance of the study. The senior Osborn’s eyes piercing your own as he waits for you. His irises as bright as the ring on his finger. 

“Lord Osborn,”you chuckle,“thank you. I must owe you a million debts of gratitude by now.”

He laughs and you smile wider. Its melodic in a way. “Please (y/n), I’ve known you since infancy. Norman is fine. Unless you want to move ahead and start calling me father.”

You laugh nervously. Cheeks heating up as you fumble with your gloves. Struggling to make a coherent response you miss the look your Captain gives the noble. 

“Don’t worry dear, just teasing.” The wrinkles in his face growing more defined. “Speaking of which, Harry arrived earlier this morning. His platoon was thankfully, successful in removing those ghastly pirates threatening a nearby port town.”

“Oh,” you stutter. Feeling the heat in your cheeks subside. “Oh how wonderful! Please be sure to send him my way.”

“Of course. Enjoy the rest of the afternoon. We’ll reconvene tomorrow yes?”

A knot fills your stomach as you nod. A strained smile on your lips. You want to say ‘Unfortunately Norman, I won’t be here tomorrow because I’m stowing away on a ship!’ Alright maybe not stowing away. You paid a fee. “Yes, tommorow. Thank you again.”

Eventually the man fades in the long corrodior of portraits and paintings. The tension in your body leaving along with him. You tilt your head and without a hitch your tiara falls into your awaiting hands. The jewels glaring back at you. You can finally breathe.

Miguel calls your name out with a sigh. His grip firm on your shoulder again and that brings you back to the present. “You don’t have to do this.”

His eyes staring deeply into your own. Despite his words Miguel knows there’s no turning back for you. You’ve made your choice.

You pull your shoulders back, determined as you set the tiara back on your head. The gold weighting almost as heavily as your heart. “It's been almost two years since father passed away and my coronation is only months away. How can I see myself as a queen when I can’t even help my own people now?”

“I can do this.” You repeat the phrase to yourself in your mind before continuing. “I’ll leave and come back in less than a month.” Your heels clicking as you begin walking down to the garden. You can see the terrace has already been set up for you. The banners of your family crest fluttering in the backround.

“Just having you believe in me to allow me to do this is more than I could have asked for.”

Miguel chuckles, uncharacteristic to anyone except to you. “I sincerely doubt you would have taken no for an answer.” 

“How encouraging,”you huff. Smiling as you playfully hit his side. “I couldn’t have asked for a better mentor.”

He smirks before going back to his usual stoic demeanor. It’s almost cold the way he stares down at you but you know him enough to see he’s hiding his pain.

A stone heart was necesary in the eyes of the advisors. A Captain of the royal guard could show no weakness.

“Your kingdom has no other option aside from annihilation if you leave it in the hands of these arrogant fools for too long. Find Gwendolyn, and quickly.”

You feel a cool piece of metal through the silk of your glove and it takes you a second to realize Miguel is the one who’s placed it there. The atmosphere thick as you twirl the ring inbetween your fingers.

Your father’s ring.

Newly polished it might as well shine like a pearl. The words engraved in the metal more legible.

It’s a parting gift you realize. As optimistic as you’ve been about your journey. You know there’s a chance you won’t be coming back. Miguel must see that too.

“The boat leaves at sunrise. You have everything you need to succeed. It’s up to you to live up to the potential I know you have.” He surprises you by kneeling. The suit of his armor clinking together as the sun shines through the stained glass windows. The color makes him look almost ethereal. You feel like it's his presence you should be basking. You who should be kneeling.

"I have served no one nobler. Good luck, (y/n). Daughter of Dmitri.”

#hobie brown #hobie brown x reader #spiderman atsv #across the spiderverse #atsv #spiderpunk #spider punk x reader #hobie brown x you #atsv hobie #hobie x reader

[loveinhawkins]

Part 1 Part 2

The rain comes on heavier as Eddie starts up Steve’s car, drives away. Dustin shuts the van door and glances over his shoulder to see Steve stretching out along the couple of seats in the back that Eddie usually reserves for his guitars. It doesn’t even look like Steve wants to be lying down, more that his body is just demanding to be horizontal.

Dustin sits down right on the floor, his head by Steve’s feet. Steve shuffles with a grunt, making room for him on the seats, but Dustin doesn’t take up the offer.

“Your ass is gonna go numb,” Steve says tiredly.

“No it won’t.”

Steve gives an exhausted kind of snort. “Uh, yeah it will,” he says—in that affected drawl he loves to use whenever he decides to contradict Dustin for the stupidest of reasons.

Dustin rolls his eyes. He’s about to tell Steve to shut up, but then he hears Steve sucking in deliberate breaths, holding them with clenched teeth. It kind of reminds him of when someone tries to cure their own hiccups, but he at least knows that’s not the case here.

“G,” Dustin declares.

Steve sighs. “Oh, fuck you. Um…”

His breathing evens out a bit as he thinks. It’s a recurring game they’ve got: shouting out a random letter and seeing if the other person can name a movie in ten seconds or less. Lately, Steve’s taken to smugly saying a letter just as Dustin takes a large bite of food, which Dustin calls “cheating” and Steve calls “strategy.”

“Ghostbusters,” Steve says with a little smirk.

“Acceptable,” Dustin concedes.

“Hey, remember your Halloween costume?” Steve says, sitting up a little on his elbows; his smile turns more fond than teasing. “Your mom kept showing me the pictures for months.” He looks off into the distance for a moment, like he’s seeing them all over again. He blinks, then says, “You were tiny, Henderson.”

It’s not said condescendingly, not in the syrupy kind of way that some distant family friends would mean it. More like he’s just bewildered by the passing of time.

So Dustin doesn’t grumble at the remark. Instead he says, “Mom’s out of town tonight.”

“Christmas shopping?” Steve asks.

“Nope.” Dustin tilts his head, raising his eyebrows. “Cousin Marlene.”

When Steve just looks blankly at him, Dustin huffs. “Come on, seriously? Didn’t I tell you?”

“Last thing you told me was her perm went wrong.”

“Oh,” Dustin says, mollified. “Okay, you’re missing an update. Henry’s cheating on her.”

“God, she can’t catch a break. Who’s the—”

But Dustin’s already doing a drum roll on his knees. “Julie.”

Steve sits up a little more, gapes. “No. Is that the one who—?”

“The leader of the PTA!”

Steve clicks his fingers. “See, I told you, I told you, she was bad news.”

“Yeah, it’s a mess.”

Steve lies back down, one hand behind his head. “Tell me?” His eyes shut for a moment, and when they open, his lids look heavy.

Dustin gets up to the third phone call Cousin Marlene had made when Steve’s eyes don’t open again. It seems completely involuntary, the frown he still wears in his sleep betraying his discomfort. It makes Dustin think of whenever he was sent home sick from school, dragged down into a restless sleep that just made his head pound afterwards.

There’s the sound of a car pulling up. Dustin moves to sit in the passenger seat, looks through the window and sees Eddie jumping out of a Chevy. He gives a very polite wave that in another circumstance, Dustin would find hilarious. The car drives off again.

When Eddie sees Steve sleeping in the back, he lets out a soft, “Oh,” and shuts the door as quietly as he can. He hesitates in starting up the engine, whispers, “I don’t wanna wake him.” When he does turn onto the road, Dustin feels like it’s the smoothest he’s ever seen him drive.

“Didn’t spook your ride too bad?” Dustin asks in an undertone.

A corner of Eddie’s mouth quirks up. “Yeah, hopefully not. Nice lady. Apparently Steve feeds her cat when she’s on vacation.” He glances at the rearview mirror. His voice lowers even more when he says, “How was he?”

Dustin pauses. He looks back at Steve—still asleep, occasionally half-mouthing words he can’t hope to decipher.

“I… I don’t know what was…” Dustin sighs, feels useless again. “Eddie, he was crying.”

Eddie clicks his tongue unhappily. He pulls up to Steve’s driveway, stops a little distance away from where Steve’s car is already parked.

Eddie cuts the engine. Steve doesn’t stir. The rain, if possible, gets even heavier.

Eddie looks out at the house, deep in thought. “Spare key still under the mat?”

Dustin shrugs. “Should be.”

Another pause. Eddie nods. “Okay, I’m gonna—get a change of clothes for him, and then we can, uh, figure out what to—”

But when he opens the door, Steve sits up with a gasp.

Eddie twists in his seat. “Woah, hey, you’re—”

“Thanks for the ride,” Steve bites out, and he shoves past them both without another word, steps out into the rain.

“Hey, wait a second,” Eddie says, and Dustin can tell that he’s trying to sound calm and just missing the mark; the words come out too quickly, too frantic.

But the panic tugs at Dustin, too; he watches as Steve heads into the house, and can’t help but feel that he’s watching something slip away.

It frightens him.

He darts around Eddie, the soles of his sneakers smacking on the wet driveway. He runs, can hear Eddie calling after him.

“Dustin, wait!”

But he ignores him, flying through the front door, then suddenly feels Eddie’s arm cutting across, blocking his path forward.

He’s about to complain, to push him away.

But then he sees the glass on the floor.

The hallway is a mess: there’s a clear vase broken into pieces; on a long, wooden table, the phone lies off the hook—even more than that, the handset is cracked in several places. Dustin can see dents in the table from where the phone must’ve been smashed against it; he can picture it, suddenly, even though he’s never seen such a thing, never known Steve to lose control like that. Can see him bringing the phone down again and again…

A crunch of glass underfoot as Eddie moves in front of him. Eddie carefully kicks a few shards to the side. He looks behind him, catches Dustin’s eye and says, “Careful.”

They cautiously move through the hallway into the kitchen. Dustin lets Eddie take the lead—finds himself caught short in the doorway at the sight of Steve standing in the kitchen, both hands braced against the counter, head bowed.

Eddie stops a couple of steps away from him. “Steve. Hey. What happened?”

“Nothing,” Steve says. He raises his head and turns to Eddie, one hand still gripping the counter, almost like he needs something to keep himself standing. “Phone lines are down here, think a tree fell or something. It’s really nothing.”

“Steve,” Eddie says simply, in a tone that clearly means it’s not nothing.

But Steve looks over at Dustin, addresses him. “It’s fine. I’m—you can go, seriously. Just… I’m fine.”

Dustin doesn’t know what to say.

Eddie takes another step forward. “Steve,” he repeats.

“Please,” Steve says. His voice is breaking. “Please just leave it alone.”

Silence.

“I can’t do that,” Eddie says, like it’s destroying him to say it.

Steve moves forward now, and he shoves Eddie back with both hands—and Dustin has seen Steve in a fight, has seen him be mean, and this is none of those things. It’s something desperate and afraid.

“Why not?” Steve breathes. He pushes again, but it hardly even jostles Eddie, Steve’s strength wavering. “Why not?”

“Because,” Eddie whispers, and he pulls Steve’s hands off his jacket and just holds onto them. “I care about you.”

Steve’s face crumples. For a split second, Dustin worries that he’ll pull away, but then he falls against Eddie, and Eddie holds him up as he quietly starts to cry.

“This is so,” Steve chokes, breathes raggedly, “so fucking stupid.”

He keeps repeating it, so fucking stupid, over and over.

“No,” Eddie says. He sways just a little, one hand stroking through Steve’s hair, right down to the back of his neck. “Shh. You’re okay, oh, you’re okay.”

Dustin steps further into the room. He wants to somehow find something that can make this all better—knows there’s more to be fixed than a broken phone. “You’ve gotta get out of this house,” Eddie murmurs, lips almost touching Steve’s temple. “Okay? How about…”

But he trails off, and Dustin knows that he was about to suggest that Steve stay at his—can already tell, from the way that Steve tenses near imperceptibly, that the suggestion would create a stalemate.

Dustin can read it in Steve’s hunched shoulders that if Eddie offers his place, to Steve it’ll feel like he’s imposing or some bullshit like that; he’ll dig his heels in, facing another night alone and…

Eddie bites down hard on his lip again; Dustin can practically hear his panicked train of thought.

And now he knows what to do.

“Stay at mine,” he says, and both Steve and Eddie look over at him. “Mom says I need “adult supervision” if I’m home alone, but you’ll do, I guess.”

It’s technically the truth, apart from the fact that Dustin had planned to have a sleepover with Lucas tonight, but well. Details.

Eddie’s eyes are shining with gratitude.

“A thankless job, huh?” he says, gently nudging Steve. “But I guess someone’s gotta do it.”

Steve exhales. His eyes meet Dustin’s before darting away, and Dustin hates that he looks ashamed.

“Okay,” Steve says.

#just 3 parts i said. & like steve i was lying to myself #steve and dustin #dustin henderson fic #steddie with dustin’s pov #steve harrington #dustin henderson #eddie and dustin #steddie #steddie fic #steddie ficlet #eddie munson #steve x eddie #henderfam

[pink-sparkly-witch]

The One That Got Away - Chapter Sixteen

Warnings: language, angst.

Pairing: Firefighter!Dean Winchester x Female Reader

Word count: 2.2k

A/N: I didn’t have a beta for this, so all mistakes are mine.

You can catch up here!

 My Masterlist AO3    Ko-Fi

Another three weeks had passed, and Y/N willed their bad luck wouldn’t strike again tonight. Their last attempt at a second date saw her bedridden with the flu and doubly miserable at another failed attempt to rekindle a relationship with Dean. He had been understanding and told her to rest and drink plenty of fluids, but she knew he must be just as frustrated as she was that Lady Luck seemed to have abandoned all hope on their second chance.

Today though, Y/N felt fit and healthy, Dean wasn’t on shift, and she was spending hers in an empty office catching up on paperwork and overtime claims. She’d instructed her staff to only disturb her if it was absolutely necessary. If things finally went their way, neither should be stuck or injured at work this time, and that thought gave her hope that this would finally be it.

Dean was full of nervous energy and decided the best way to use it up was to give Baby a long overdue tune-up, clean and polish. It was perfect timing, too, because then she would be looking her best when he took Y/N out to the fanciest restaurant Lawrence had to offer, and by the time he was finished, he’d be a few hours closer to his date with Y/N; it was a win-win.

He wasn’t surprised she’d gotten sick and had to cancel last time. The whole day fate hadn’t been working in his favour, so when her text came through, it was the cherry on top of what had been a really fucking shitty day. When he called her later to see how she was, she sounded dreadful, and he’d immediately offered to come over and look after her. Y/N declined, saying all that would achieve was him getting sick too, and then their date would have to be postponed for even longer.

Knowing Y/N was working today made him a little apprehensive that something would crop up at the last second and force another rain check. Still, he was trying to keep that niggling thought buried. And so, with a coffee-filled travel mug, Dean made his way outside with his tools and got to work sprucing up his second best girl.

Her message came in at 4pm.

Y/NCheck the news. I’m so sorry, De xx

Dean closed his eyes in frustration and huffed loudly at their atrocious luck. Turning on the news, he watched the aftermath of an overturned lorry on the freeway, blocking the road in both directions and multiple vehicles colliding with it or other vehicles.

“So far,” the news anchor reported, “there have been five fatalities and over twenty people with injuries of varying severity, and several people are still trapped in their vehicles. Emergency workers are doing all they can to free them, with relief crews being called in to assist.

“Meanwhile, Lawrence Memorial Hospital is nearing its emergency patient capacity and has set up an outdoor triage area for the walking wounded, keeping the hospital building free for those with more serious injuries that need attending to.”

His cell rang shortly after, and Dean was only briefly disappointed that it wasn’t Y/N. He knew she’d be swamped, and he probably wouldn’t hear from her until everyone from the accident had been treated. Still, he had a sliver of hope that it might’ve been her.

“Bobby, I just saw the news,” Dean answered the call.

“So you know why I’m calling?” Bobby said, his question rhetorical. “I’m sorry to ask you to work when you’re supposed to have plans tonight…”

“It’s fine. Y/N’s on shift and already sent me a text cancelling. It’ll be all hands on deck at the hospital, so I might as well come in. At least it’ll stop me from drowning my sorrows,” Dean chuckled sadly.

“I’m sorry, Dean. I’m sure you’ll get that date soon,” Bobby replied, but right now, that wasn’t much comfort to the younger man.

“I’m starting to think we should just cut our losses. Maybe something’s trying to tell us something,” Dean scoffed.

“Dean-”

“I’m on my way. I’ll be there in ten,” Dean cut in, not feeling in the mood to hear another person say how perfect they were for each other when the simple task of going on a date seemed impossible.

It would be a long night, but at least he’d have work to keep him from spiralling down the self-depreciation hole he usually did when Y/N had to cancel plans.

With all trapped persons rescued and the accident site secured by police and awaiting cleanup, Dean’s Firehouse had been posted to the triage area at the hospital to help wherever possible. They were giving first aid, handing out food and water, and checking up on patients in the hospital on behalf of concerned family and friends who were outside waiting for news of their loved ones.

He’d even got to speak to Y/N briefly a few times, and those little moments of light in what was otherwise a dark situation had kept his spirits up. And now that the last few patients were being treated, he finally felt he could breathe easier. Maybe, he’d even be able to convince Y/N to go for a bite to eat before they both went home and slept.

Trawling through the hospital’s hallways, Dean’s only focus was finding the nurse who was slowly taking hold of his heart again and taking up most of his thoughts since coming back to town. He almost missed her as he turned another corner and walked down another corridor.

Stepping back to the room he’d just passed, Dean paused at the window, praying he was wrong and that the woman sitting on the floor, arms crossed over her legs and head on her knees, wasn’t Y/N. Opening the door and quietly stepping into the room, his heart ached at the realisation that it was her and that the usually strong and kept-together nurse was in tears.

“Hey, Princess, what’s the matter?” Dean asked, making his way over and crouching in front of her. Y/N looked at him, eyes red and puffy, her cheeks wet with tears, and he threw all caution to the wind as he sat beside her, pulled her into his lap, and wrapped his arms around her.

They remained embraced on the floor for a while before Y/N’s tears stopped, and she’d stopped gasping in shallow breaths between her heartwrenching sobs. Dean was at a loss on what to do at first, but then he remembered that this was Y/N. His Y/N. And though she was stronger than she looked and more capable than people gave her credit for, sometimes the only way she could process her emotions was to cry.

“Sorry, I needed that,” Y/N eventually spoke and wiped at her eyes. “Days like this, when we lose so many people, never get easier to process. Sometimes I just need a little time to cry it all out.”

“No need to explain to me, Princess. I’ve known you my whole life, and I know that if you don’t let it out now, it’ll eat away at you and eventually consume you. I’ll always be here to ground you whenever you feel like that, alright?”

“Thank, De,” she sniffled and smiled softly at him. “I suppose we should get back out there, huh?”

“In a few minutes. The last patients are being treated, and Ellen, Jody, and Bobby have called a staff briefing at 5am. We’ve got a little time to calm you down some more,” Dean kissed her forehead and smiled, wrapping his arms around her a little tighter and pulling her into his body a little closer.

After urging everyone who’d gathered for the briefing in the hospital canteen to have something to eat before they went home, Dr Ellen Harvelle, Charge Nurse Rowena Macleod, Sheriff Jody Mills, and Fire Chief Bobby Singer thanked their staff for the exceptional job they’d all done in the face of such tragedy and dismissed them from their duties. Reserve police officers and firefighters had started their shifts early to allow those who’d worked all night to go home and rest.

The doctors, nurses and hospital staff who’d been on shift when the accident happened or been called in as backup would be relieved by those who’d either volunteered to stay and work a double shift or agreed to come in on a rest day.

Dean got to have breakfast with Y/N after all, but they were joined by Benny, Bobby, and Jody. He couldn’t complain, though, as he saw the smile come back to Y/N’s face as she talked to Jody and playfully rolled her eyes at Benny’s southern charm and blatant flirting. Dean didn’t rise to the Cajun’s bait, knowing that was exactly what he wanted.

“Now, I know you’re a workaholic, Y/N, but please tell me you didn’t volunteer to stay on?” Uncle Bobby asked with the stern look that never made her listen to him when she was a child and certainly wouldn’t make her listen to him now.

“No, I didn’t. I’ve been working for…” Y/N glanced at the fob watch attached to her scrub top pocket, “twenty-three and half hours. If I stay any longer, I would be endangering the patients, particularly because I haven’t had a break, let alone any sleep.”

“Good. You look like death warmed up,” Bobby stated before shovelling a forkful of scrambled eggs into his mouth.

“Yeah…” Y/N sighed and rubbed a hand down her face. “I feel like it too.”

“Go home, honey, before you fall asleep at the table!” Jody chuckled, and Y/N responded with a lopsided smile before grabbing the empty plate and used cutlery and standing from her seat.

“Alright, I’m going! Uncle Bobby, Jody, I’ll see you Sunday. Benny, it was nice to see you again,” she smiled tiredly at the blue-eyed man.

“You too, cher. Take care of yourself, you hear?” Benny winked at her before digging back into his breakfast.

Dean stood and lifted his used dishes and walked with her to place them on the counter, which was home to all the used crockery. “You doing okay, Y/N?”

“Yeah, nothing a hot shower and a decent sleep won’t fix,” she smiled.

“Alright. Call me later, once you’ve had some sleep?” Dean asked with a raised brow.

“Of course,” she smiled. “I hope you’re going home to get some sleep too?”

“Yeah, we’ll probably have another debrief back at the firehouse, then, I am going home and crawling straight into bed,” he chuckled at her smile of approval and with a final farewell, Y/N left the hospital canteen, grabbed her purse from her locker and went home to sleep.

Waking up hours later when the sun had gone down, Y/N lay in bed trying to process everything that had happened the past few days. It was always tragic when they lost a patient, and serious incidents like yesterday were awful and never got easier to deal with. In moments like this, it was easier to think of the tens of patients they saved than the six they had lost.

The next thing to cross her mind was Dean. Y/N had been glad he was posted at the hospital because she was really starting to miss him. The first couple of times they couldn’t go on their date, she’d still been able to see him, but she hadn’t seen him in twelve days because she’d been so ill with flu, and she didn’t want Dean to see her like that. Sure, it might have been extremely vain of her to think that way, but she felt it was too soon to be at her absolute worst with him.

Y/N was also disappointed that things kept coming up. Granted, neither of them had chosen what happened to stall progress on their budding relationship. No one could’ve predicted her father would die right after their first date and put any thought of another date onto the back burner for weeks.

Neither of them could’ve guessed that Jess would need to finish work early and Y/N would need to be the one to take her shift, nor could Dean or her have done anything to stop Cas from getting injured on a call. And there was no way either could have foreseen what happened yesterday, resulting in them having to work.

Suddenly, she had an overwhelming pang in her chest and a strong urge to be with him, to say to hell with the fates, dates, plans, and schedules. She just needed to be with him. Needed him.

Knowing Dean wouldn’t be working after pulling an all-night shift, Y/N threw the bed covers off her body and showered. She was going to go over. Who needed a date anyway? She and Dean had been on hundreds of those and, she hoped, would go on hundreds more.

This was no longer about want for Y/N. It was about need.

Next Chapter >>

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#the one that got away #firefighter!dean winchester x reader #au dean winchester x reader #tw: child abuse #tw: alcoholism #tw: physical abuse #tw: verbal abuse #firefighter!dean winchester #dean winchester x reader

[coleskingdom]

Christmas Vacation

Adam Cole x ofc

Warnings Explict sex, praise kink, light dom, multiple orgasms, dry humping, vaginal sex

The trip had been shit, nothing had gone right as I just wanted a weekend away. The flight had been cancelled due to rain, the airline issued vouchers for food and hotel, but they ran out before I got mine. I decided I needed a drink I went to the bar by the gate, found a spot and ordered a vodka on the rocks.

“Hey is this seat taken?” a familiar voice said I looked up from my drink and there stood Adam Cole with a mischievous smirk on her face. “No but I’m in no mood for your shit? " I'm wounded" he-said as he sat down and ordered a beer. “Seriously though Em, what's wrong? “ he said genuine concern in his voice.

“Life where do you want me to start My vacation is delayed, I’m in a shitty airport with no hotel no car and stuck on Christmas Eve . Merry fucking Christmas to me. “ I lifted my glass and ordered another round.

“Em, my flight just got canceled, but I did get one of those hotel vouchers, just crash with me tonight it’ll be better in the morning. Besides it’s early enough we can grab some food and make the...”

I cut him off “please don’t it’s a wonderful life me, I can’t deal with it. I just wanted to drink, make shitty decisions and shut my brain off. “I huffed.

“Okay my little grinch, do you trust me?”He nudged his shoulder into my shoulder finally getting me to smile. “Of course, I trust you Cole, how long have we been friends? “

“Five or six years at this point I guess, okay then turn the night over to me, you said you didn’t want to think. “

“You know what the day is at a loss so yes it’s yours. “

“That’s the spirit” he grabbed my carryon threw cash on the bar and was exiting the bar before I could reconsider.

The airport hotel was cringey at best, I think the decor hadn’t been updated in 50 years. I decided I wasn’t going to complain it would be fine I wasn’t alone it’d be fine. Then I noticed that there was only one full size bed in the room. Well still not going to complain I told myself it’s just one night and he and I are friends. “I hope you don’t snore “Cole said playfully,I just smiled, “left or right ladies choice”. I’ll take the right, I said.

“So what’s the plan” I asked not sure if we were staying in or going out. “Sushi and Karaoke, don’t worry, they have booze, cooked food as well,and it’s a private karaoke booth it’s just us and it’s just for fun. It’ll be great “he said a twinkle in his eye again I grumbled.

I changed into jeans boots and a sweater, freshened up and he was relaxed on his leather jacket black tshirt and jeans. “Let’s get out of here I guess.” I said less than enthusiastic

I had forgotten how much fun it was hanging out with him,our schedules didn’t match up like they used to. His blue eyes sparkled as he talked of the next year, and what he hoped his life would look like in it. It was so easy being with him. However you both had friendzoned each other years ago so there was no point in thinking about any of this. No point in wondering if you could be who he wanted, what might life look like with him, and how had time only made him more handsome. Then you wondered what it would be like to kiss him, now you knew for sure that the alcohol had given you the courage to think about the things that lingered just below the surface.

“You ready to go sing your heart out” I grabbed the remaining bottle of the sake and said sure. He had always loved karaoke and I needed to be drunk to enjoy it. He picked Lit’s my own worst enemy , I couldn’t stop laughing his actions to the lyrics he was doing everything to make the night better. He wanted me to pick a song I told him he could pick the song, “I’m at your mercy” I stood up to take the stage in our booth. “I like the sound of that” he cued up I’m a slave for you , I rolled my eyes.So he wanted to play games, I considered using a chair to do the Brittany dance but decided that he would do. I sang and dropped myself in his lap as I sang the song one of his hands went to my hips holding me there the other to the microphone that he took from my hand. I was facing him straddled across his lap each of us trying to read the other one’s face. Adam, I uh, he kissed me and my lips parted he tasted like the apple sake we had been drinking . His tongue dominated my mouth, I felt myself relax and give myself over to him. My hips instinctively shifted grinding down on him, I gasped, I could feel every hard inch of him, pressing right against my clit. I moved, grinding my clit against him as we kiss, and I moaned into his mouth. The move had his fingers tightening on me and a deep groan coming from his chest, the sound traveling through me to add onto the pressure in my belly. His hands gripped my hips, shifting them again to recreate the movement and sending a lightning bolt of desire through me.

"Oh," I whisper against his lips, and his hands continue the circuit, guiding me back and forth along his hardness as pleasure bloomed and built in my belly in a way I hadn’t felt in years.Maybe ever, if I'm being honest.

"That's it, sugar," he whispers, his lips on my neck just under my ear, his words rough and breathy and driving me higher. "Take what you need." I was in another world, one where I'm consumed by lust and need. “Use Me.”Those words did something more, making my swollen clit throb as I dug my fingers into his shoulders and groan, my hips moving faster along the shaft of his cock over our clothes, and I tip them so he hits where I need it most.

"Oh, shit, fuck." I groan, my head dropping to his shoulder as I continue to move, to writhe frantically.

"That's it, baby. That's it. God, you should see how fucking beautiful you look like this, taking control. Taking what you need."

I moan again into the shoulder of his shirt, and his hand moves up into my hair, tugging so that I look at him. I find his eyes darkened with lust, so enamored by what is happening that the feeling consuming me I come on his lap moaning his name, as my hips grind on his cock. "Fuck, you're beautiful," he mur-murs, and it's not for my ears, not for my benefit, but more like a prayer he didn't mean to say aloud. It causes another ripple of orgasm to tear through me, my hips jerking on him before I collapse and bury my face into his neck with a groan. His hands still in my hair, he pulled me in for another kiss.

“Em, he said when he broke the kiss, let’s go back to the hotel”. We ducked out the back of the restaurant and he pushed me up against the brick wall in the alley kissing me again, this time raw and urgent. I’d have let him fuck me in that alley I was so needy for him. I pulled him in closer lifting my leg to bring him closer to my core. He pressed his hips against mine, I could feel him through his jeans, he lifted me against the wall, his clothed cock against my needy pussy. My legs around his hips, this time he grinded against my core Adam, I moaned. I was his drunk on him. “We’ve got to get back to the hotel, the first time I take you it’s not going to be in an alley”. How’s the first time going to be I asked, his smile turned wicked. “Oh Sugar I’ve thought about this for years, I’m going to make you beg me for it, I’m going to take my time, I’m going to explore every inch of your perfect body, I’m going to eat that perfect pussy, I’m going to make sure you’re ready for me, and then I’m going to make sure you always remember this night. “He moved my legs from his hips setting my feet back down. Now, let’s go. We walked hand in hand back to the hotel, once inside the room. He picked me up and I wrapped my legs around his hips and my arms around his neck he stalked towards the bed. He deposited me on the edge of the bed a look of fire in his eyes, he took off the sweater and jeans I was wearing. Then he was back on top of me the sparkle in his blue eyes, “Em, sugar, do you remember when you didn’t want to think?” I nodded “ I’m gonna take over now, you don’t need to think, just feel be here with me. I’ll tell you when to come” I thought he was going to kiss me again but instead his lips moved to my neck he worked his hands down and removed my bra freeing my breasts. He took his time kissing between them, his hand rubbing the right one as his mouth took in the left one. I felt a bolt shoot straight to my clit when he gently ran his teeth against my nipple. I gasped and moaned my back arching. “Adam, I need you” my fingers in his hair as he kissed lower, placing kisses through my panties. “Naughty or Nice? I guess that depends on you sweetheart. You were so naughty earlier, coming on my lap. My naughty girl is so wet for me and I haven’t even touched you.” He palmed my center before he removed my panties. He grinned mischievously as he lowered himself to the floor as his shoulders pushed my legs wide, his face inches from my pussy. His palms came down on my inner thighs, spreading my legs even wider as his mouth dropped between them.

I gasped from the from the feeling the soft, slick stroke of his tongue over me just teasing me. His beard tickling my thighs. Adam changed the position he put a pillow under my ass, and my legs over his shoulders . He dove back into my core with rough licks, he sucked on my clit, I began to squirm my hips taking on a rhythm that matched his tongue. “Just like sugar, just like I knew you would be.” He removed his tongue from my core and inserted two of his long fingers as my back arched off the bed. I rested on my elbows and watched his forearm tense and release as his fingers moved in and out of me.”That’s my good girl, ride my fingers sugar, you’re doing so good for me” his words making my pussy clench on his fingers. I was so close “Adam please…” I begged “So obedient for me, waiting like a good girl. My sweet ‘Em go ahead and come for me” He took my clit in his mouth sucking and pulling on it and when I came he worked me through it as I came in his mouth prolonging the feeling as long as he could. I hadn’t realized in the moment that I came that hard.

Adam stripped pulling of his clothes in lightening speed. He was hovering over me, looking me in my eyes. “What am I going to do with you?” he said I raise my hips offering myself to him as if he needed further invitation. “Sugar, I’m talking about after tonight, after I’ve fucked you so thoroughly that the only thought in your brain is me.” I moaned at the promise knowing he’d fulfill it. "Yes, after. After tonight. After we leave this hotel room. This can't be just a tonight thing. I'll go absolutely mad if I don't get to fucking make a home out of you every god damn day from now until forever. Swear to me that you won't deprive me again. Tell me that sweet little pussy of yours is as desperate for me as I am it. Swear to me that after we leave this hellhole it'll still be mine. Promise me you'll still be mine tomorrow.”My insides clench at his words. God, they're so beautiful. I don't know how his words can be so dirty yet also be so poetic.

“Adam, I promise, please I beg you.” It was like my words finally registered in him , and nothing else needed to be said he pushes into me, I moaned from the sheer pleasure of how he felt as he stretched me. "Now it's time for you to be a good girl and take all of me."

He sheaths himself in me, filling me completely with him. I feel full, the pain only a dull throb compared to the euphoria of the feeling of the head of his cock bumping the spot where it feels the best.

"I can feel you stretching around me, molding perfectly to my cock."

"More," I plead, my hands finding the muscles at his back. I scratch at him, trying to bring him even deeper inside me.He slowly pushes in and out, leaning down to lay light kisses to my chin.

His hand snakes up, his fingers pinching one of my nipples before he cradles my face. "I want to go slow for you,"he says, his lips moving against my mouth. "But fuck sugar, I need faster. I need it harder. I can't help myself." My hips buck, my body desperate for the same things he wants.

"That's what I want," I mutter. "I can take it."

A loud growl erupts from his chest as he jerks his hips into me, forcing me to take all of him. My fingertips dig into the taut muscles of his back as he rails into me. The bed shakes underneath his power. The backs of my thighs hit his torso, a smacking sound filling the room.

His hips are punishing, but his tongue in my mouth is sweet. The perfect combination to have pressure building low in my stomach. My eyes open, needing confirmation that he's as affected by what's happening right now as I am. I've never felt the desperate need for someone as I do right now.

I want to claw at his back, to mark my territory, to take him and mold to him perfectly so I won't fit with anyone else.

I pull at his hair, needing something to hold on to as he continuously pushes into me so deep I feel like I might break.

He slows down, pulling himself out until only the head of his cock remains.

It's like he knew I was on the brink of coming and he wanted to prolong the feeling of almost falling over the edge even longer.

In one easy motion, he takes the hand that plays with his hair and shoves it into the pillow above my head. He repeats the same thing with my other arm, shoving both above my head until he holds both my wrists in one hand. He shoves them into the pillow, taking all of the control.

All I'm left to do is let him have his way, reveling in every movement of his hips.

"Look at you," he muses. "Taking every inch of me like the good girl you are." I moan, my back coming off the comforter. His words mixed with the punishing push of hips is pure ecstasy.I never want to stop. I'd gladly beg over and over if it meant I got to feel like this.

"Do you like giving me the power to fuck you however I want, Em?"

All I can do is nod. Words fail me.

I'm so close to coming that I can't do anything but focus on the buildup between my legs. “You’ve been such a good girl, come with me Em”I can't hold on any longer. A moan erupts from my chest as my entire body erupts into fire-works.

Adam continues to push into me, milking every last second of the orgasm from me. I can feel my muscles clench around him, wrapping around him tightly as he chases his own release.

"You're so god damn sexy when you come on my cock," he growls, his lips still right next to my nipple. I felt him empty himself into me. He collapses on to me, he untangled him self from me. He went to the bathroom, he came back with a warm washcloth and a glass of water. “Em, sweetheart are you okay” he said softly his eyes softening but a new look in his eyes. “ I’m more than okay, Adam” grinning I took the glass of water as he washed me tenderly. He took the glass from my hand when I finished. He pulled back the covers and settled me in the bed and climbed in behind me. “Em” he whispered “I wasn’t the shitty decision that you made tonight was I”the uncertainty in his voice broke my heart. I rolled over to face him. “Adam, no, I think I’ve always known it was you who I wanted.” He kissed me again and pulled me on to his chest, and I fell asleep content.

#adam cole smut #adam cole x reader #aew smut #aew fanfiction

[iris-of-bliss]

𝔸 𝕎𝕠𝕣𝕥𝕙𝕨𝕙𝕚𝕝𝕖 ℝ𝕖𝕥𝕦𝕣𝕟 [𝟙𝟠+]

Summary: Kabal is glad to see you again after dealing with Black Dragon business. This will unfortunately last a day before returning back, so you do what you always loved.

Pairing(s): Kabal/F!Reader

Warning(s): Smut, Teasing, Foreplay

Word Count: 1.3k

After being away with the Black Dragon, it was the perfect opportunity for Kabal to at least spend some time with you before heading back to work. His boss kept pushing him to finish tasks nonstop, but he’s gotta do what he’s gotta do to earn enough money. Most of that money would help keep a roof over your heads. You also had a job too for covering the rest. He would never turn down offering to support the both of you. Speaking of spending time, you did not expect heavy rain to end up on your radar for tonight. You were going out to stargaze earlier along with some chatter. Unfortunately, the weather chose to ruin your night of leisure instead. Heading home was the only option.

Entering back into the home, you walk in shivering a bit while soaking wet. The cold drips of water covered you two from head to toe. Kabal noticed as he locked the door and embraced you from behind. His body temperature felt so warm against you, it made yours settle down quick. You turn back to hold him close so you can take in the warmth. Your lover’s hand caresses your back followed by his finger forming small circles on it. His breathing sounded calm as your ear is pressed against his chest. It was a sweet melody to you, and this made you even happier to seem him again.

“Wanna join me in a hot shower, Kabal?” you whisper after gripping his damp tank, “You could a use a helping hand to clean up any scars you got.”

Kabal let out a soft chuckle, “Sure thing, princess. You can take care of me as I do to you.”

You giggle before guiding him to the bedroom by his hand. The room felt a lot more mild compared to the others. As your lover shut the door, you remove every piece of clothing to toss in the laundry bin. You were well aware enough to sense Kabal watching you the whole time stripping off your attire. That didn’t bother you though, this just made you eager for his skin to touch yours when entering the shower. As you approach the bathroom, you turn the shower knob to a comfortably hot temperature. You wait a minute until the water became heated enough to enter through the shower door. You grab a washcloth to dampen before using a bottle of soap to apply with. Gently scrubbing along your chest and shoulders, you admire the soothing sprinkles of water across your nude form. It was a relief that you returned home from the freezing rain. Otherwise, you might have caught a cold later on.

You hear the shower door shift open, welcoming Kabal’s presence behind you. Turning to see him, your eyes widen at a thin scar trailing from his shoulder to the center of his bare chest. Your fingers guide along the wound. From the looks of it, it had already been dried up and healing. It was for certain to be an outcome of a fight he encountered during one of his missions. You inch close to the wound before placing a gentle kiss to it. Kabal smiles and encircles his arms around you into a sweet embrace. You drop the cloth before wrapping your arms around his neck to return the favor. You two stood there in a shower of hot droplets, allowing the water to run down your skin. The merc plants a kiss to your head until you look up to share eye contact. He kisses you again, this time on the lips. Eyes lidding shut, you exchange another kiss with him, this time it went deeper. Kabal soon began to run his hands along your rear, giving a tender squeeze. Your face turns hot as well as your body. He knew his ways of drawing out his lady’s excitement. Fondling and teasing for even the smallest reaction is anything but impossible. He was your one weakness that you wouldn’t mind falling for.

Your breathing became heavier with a slip of a whimper. You were backed up against the shower wall with Kabal throughout the kiss. One of his hands slid down to your pussy before gently rubbing the spot. You lightly jump while continuing to moan for his contact. Your hands end up grabbing onto his arms, feeling the robust muscles from within. Your boyfriend pulls away so he could mark kisses on your cheek. You hummed at his tease whilst biting your lip. His lips brush the shell of your ear, “Want me to cum in you, princess?”

Your feet stood on their toes as he kept rubbing, “M-mhmm…”

Kabal kisses your cheek before raising up your leg with his working hand. He brings his readied cock against your folds, rubbing against them. God, this was so hard to control your breathing. It was clearly big enough to force a moan out of you, yet make you beg for more. He then grabs your other leg so you could wrap around his torso. Kabal moves back a bit for the tip of his cock to press onto your entry. There was no need to worry about using lube while both of you were already settled in the shower. Your cunt especially has already been prepared. The atmosphere will soon get even hotter with the shower’s temperature.

“No need to stand around. You’re going for a ride,” he whispers again.

You immediately feel himself push inside of you, releasing a sharp gasp. Aroused moans slip out as you wrap your other leg around his waist. You were pressed back on the wall and held Kabal tight on his shoulders. He holds you by your ass while resting his forearm next to you, blocking the view from the outside. Your panting kept going, fingers clawing into his skin. Kabal moves in steady motions as he breathes heavily. This didn’t fail to make you bite your lip. Feeling the tight throbbing of your pussy, your eyes open to admire his well defined muscles sprinkled by the shower water above. Your hand guides its way up his cheek to caress. It took seconds to stare through Kabal’s eyes before noticing quickened movements of his cock slamming into you.

You began to cry in pleasure, “Ah! Don’t stop, Kabal!”

The mercenary kisses your lips and leans his forehead against yours. Your eyes remain shut with the addictive sense of touch. His hips continue pounding against your entry. You might have not known it, but there was soon to be sweat forming between you. Thankfully for the shower, it would easily wash off throughout. The surroundings had already gotten steamy. This wasn’t any of your concern at the very least, maybe because that it excited the mood.

You bury your face in Kabal’s shoulder as you got close to climaxing for the end. Kabal was able to catch the hint, so he brings his arm down to your lower stomach. His thumb trails to your clit and teases it in circular motions. Your voice moaned and stomach tensed up from the feeling. Fuck, you didn’t want this to stop. Just to let time stand still for a bit longer. He can have you all to himself instead of going back to torturous work again.

“Mmm! I love you so much, Kabal! I’m about to cum!”

“Fuck, I love you too, sweetheart!”

The sweet feeling of climax enters through you. Both so hot and so great all at once. Your legs falter with slight shivers. Kabal chuckled at the reaction whilst kneading your rear. He carefully pulls out for you to get on your feet, but you immediately cling onto him. Catching your breath, the only thing you could do is embrace him and caress his bare chest. Your eyes were held shut too. The merc returned the hug as he places kisses to your head again. The moments he has with you are precious to him, even the ones in between work.

“Let’s give it a minute, sweetheart. Remind me when you’re ready.”

You continue to hold each other during the shower session. It would have been nicer if he didn’t have to return back to Kano. Regardless, being sure to check up on you matters to him most.

#mortal kombat #mk kabal #kabal #kabal x reader #fanfic #blissfic #n/sfw

[nyxindustries]

After Class | Tony Stark

Fandom: MCU (Marvel Cinematic Universe)

Pairing: Tony Stark x Reader, Tony Stark x Female Reader, Young Tony Stark x Reader

Warnings: 18+ Minors Do NOT interact, sexual intercoirse, slight praise kink, slight rough sex kink, first date, fast burn, slight intoxication. Unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it) Oral Sex, V in P, (Female receiving ) Explicit Content, Explicit Language.

| Part 2 | - This is a request from my old account, that I no longer unfortunately have. Hope whoever requested this gets back to you.-

Staring at the man in front of you, holding a rose as he got soaking wet with the rain pouring down. He held a single rose in his hand, a giant smile, a question you couldn’t bear to understand but your stomach leaped with your heartbeat a thousand times faster.

“T-Tony….what are you asking me?” You ask quietly, staring at your college classmates and lab buddy in and out of class.

“Go on a date with me, tonight. We just finish class and We both live off campus, it’ll be fun.” Tony pleads to you, making you laugh softly.

“Tony, you're getting all wet, and why should I go on a date with you? Seems like you hate me most of the time!” You jokingly say, almost thinking it’s a joke, as you cover him with your umbrella, making him smile a bit.

You’ll confess it, you love Tony with all your heart, but he couldn’t have possibly liked you back, so many girls are on him all day and every day because of his money or his looks.

Not only that, you weren’t like that, you didn’t care for his money or his looks, at first, you didn’t even like him at all because of the way he acted, but then he became your lab partner. You love him.

“I don’t hate you…even if I like teasing you. I don’t. Ms. Y/n I like you a lot, so go on a date with me” he says, and you smile softly, staring at him with a massive smile now.

“Okay! I like you too. Tonight.” You say as you gingerly take the fresh rose that has water droplets dropping, and you smelled it, smelling the freshness of the rose making you smile more.

“I’ll pick you up from your house, we’ll go to dinner and see where the night takes us. How does that sound?” He says, and you agree quickly.

“Great! I’ll see you tonight!” He says as places a gentle kiss on your cheek and then walks away in the rain, leaving you there.

—

Being dressed in a cute black dress and wedges as you waited for Tony. You were pacing around your living room, nervous. You love Tony, and he asked you on a date, oh, the things that can happen on this date.

Ding!Dong!

Your doorbell, sighing of relief as quickly as the negative thoughts came, they left. Opening the door as you smile seeing the young, golden brown hair standing at the door. A classy casual dress, a nice dress shirt, and nice pants with dress shoes.

“Hey, pretty lady! Let’s go!” Tony says as he reaches out his hand, and you grab it with a smile.

“You look handsome tonight!” You say and Tony laughs.

“Don’t I always look handsome?” Tony teased, and you laugh softly

“No” You joke making Tony and yourself laugh, in playfulness.

“Well, I know you look beautiful every single day and especially tonight” Tony compliments you, making you blush red.

“Thank you,” you say as he opens his car door for you, helping you get in.

Arriving at the restaurant as it was packed with customers and also really, really fancy and high-end.

“I made reservations!” Tony says, and you just looked around the glass structure and waterfall that’s in the middle of the room.

“Wow, this is beautiful Tony,” you say, and he just smiled at you as you guys waited to be seated.

“Follow me,” the waiter says, and you nod as all have you begin walking with them as the waiter took to the back of the restaurant, onto a balcony area. Your table is the only table out here.

Smiling as you look around, and it’s such a beautiful view too.

Getting seated as the waiters look at the both of you.

“Red Wine as requested,” the waiter says as he pours two cups, leaving the both of you with menus.

“Oh wow. This is beautiful, Tony! How did you do it?” You ask, and he smiles

“I pulled some strings, some people owe my father a favor,” he says, and you laugh softly

“Of course.” You say as you look through the menu, taking a sip of your wine.

Talking about the menu now as soon the both of you order food to your liking.

Looking at Tony as you smile, “so what made you want to go on a date with me? You ask and Tony chuckled.

“I don’t know, I think you're wonderful,” he says, and your smile.

“I think you're wonderful too”

The food arrived as you still talked to Tony.

Looking at the food as it looked so delicious and the wine getting a bit to the both of you. — Walking out of the restaurant with a smile and holding on to Tony's hand as you walk to his car.

“Hey, it’s still pretty early, want to go back to the place for a movie?” Tony asks and you nod, looking at him.

Maybe, The wine is getting to you because as of right now you want to kiss him. The wine scenario is also unlikely, you only had two glasses, and you had a three-course dinner tonight, plus all the all-you-can-eat bread.

“I want to kiss you,” you say quietly and Tony smirks.

“Me too” Tony whispers and you smile as you lean in kissing him as he kisses you back softly.

“Now I really would like to go to my place.” Tony jokes and you laugh softly.

“Yeah, let’s do it. “ You say and Tony nods

“You sure? I can always drive you home, but I’m letting you call it” He says kindly and non-pressuring which meant a lot to you.

“No, let's do it. Come on!” You say as the valet driver pulled up In Tony's car and Tony follows you quickly as you got into his car with a chuckle as he got in right after you.

—

Arriving at Tony's place as he parks quickly and got out he opens the car door, making you laugh as he helps you get out.

“My love,” he says, making you turn red as he walks up to his house steps and opens the door for you quickly as you walk in.

Walking into the living room of his single townhouse, he loved her because it was closer to the university than going all the way home to his parents.

“Wow this is beautiful Tony”

You say, and he smiles

“Thank you!” He says, as you slowly turn to him, and he helps you take your jacket off to stare at him again.

Tony kisses you softly again, and you kiss back with a lot of passion, causing Tony to deepen the kiss. Your hands go to Tony's face as you pull him in closer, and he groans in response as he grips your thighs and ass.

Making him lift you as he held you against the wall, still kissing you. Tony gets a good grip on you as he carries you upstairs, making you chuckle into the kiss.

Going straight to the bedroom as Tony tossed you onto the bed, making you stare up at him as he quickly lost his tie and shoes, and you quickly lost your shoes too.

Tony towered over you and you could his smirk as you felt his hands on your dress, the next thing you knew it was off of you, and so are your bra and panties.

“It’s all about you tonight, baby. “ Tony says into your making you smile softly

Kissing him once more, your hands went to his belt buckle and quickly undid it with a smirk. Tony gently spread your legs now as he saw your pussy, soaking wet.

Everything he thought and saw rushed down to his cock as he smirks slowly going down as he kissed your clit softly before licking a thick line down and up your pussy making you moan in soft pleasure.

“Tony” You moan out, making him smirk as he lapses his tongue onto your pussy and clit, tasting all of your juices.

Tony shoved his two fingers in you as he started displaying you no mercy, just the way you liked it.

Tony thrusts and curls his fingers in you as he keeps reaching your sweet spot he sucks, licks, and teases your clit harder with each thrust, making you moan more loudly than before.

Glancing down at him in between your legs as you moan, pushing his hair out of your face and pulling him closer into your pussy.

“Fuck, fuck !” You scream out as he begins thrusting and sucking faster as he feels you clench your pussy around his fingers. He looks up at you as he watches your face contort into pleasure, not knowing how much you can take anymore.

“Tony… Tony, I’m gonna~ Ah.” You scream out as you grip the sheets tight on his bed you begin cumming on his fingers as he slowly pulls them out, licking your cum up with his tongue with a sweet smile.

“Mm, baby, taste yourself. You taste so delicious” Tony says

As he pushes his cum covered fingers in your mouth making you lick them up and down, sucking on his fingers. Tony slaps at your oversensitive cunt, making you jump in response as he quickly flips you over onto your stomach, your face meeting a pillow.

Tony pulls his underwear down as he strokes himself slowly and starts putting himself at your entrance rubbing his cock all around your entrance.

“T-Tony please I need it” you moan out quietly making him smirk as he thrusts his cock into you.

“Mhm don’t worry baby girl you're going to get it.” He whispers into his ear, making you smile as he starts thrusting in his cock picking up a persistent pace. Tony knows the way you like it, and you like it rough. That wasn't a secret between the two of you.

Tony thrusts harder as he grabs your hair pulling you back into your knees, as he balances you and thrusts into you.

Becoming a moaning mess as Tony's hands let go of your hair, but you kept your head on his shoulder and saw his one hand go to your breast massaging then his other went to your clit, massaging it fast.

Gasping out at the extra pleasure as Tony flicked and pulled on your nipple. Kissing on the back of your neck, making hickeys in heart shape and any shape he wanted to know you belonged to him.

“F-fuck me harder" You moan out as Tony's hands met yours, and he pinned down the bed, face first. Gentle kissing your shoulder with that, started thrusting faster and harder into you, railing into you now.

The mouth is covered by the pillow you're, and your face is stuffed into, barely covering up your screams as your eyes closed tight in pleasure.

“ Ah! FUCK TONY! Fuck, Fuck!~RIGHT THERE" You scream into the pillow. You felt your hair get pulled, and your head lifted.

“Oh baby, you like that? Let me hear you say it!" Tony mutters into your ear with soft groans.

“F-fuck, please. I love it.” You whine out as he drops you back into the pillow that your saliva and sweat are now on. You're holding on to his bed frame with some mercy and support now.

Tony no longer shows any mercy with his cock as he slams into you, all you could do is moan for more. While Tony called you the dirtiest name, he could think of. The room filled with skin-slapping moans and the bed frame banging against the wall loudly.

“I’m-…. I’m…going to cum!” You scream out,

Tony finds your sweet spot again with his cock, making you moan as he slams into it, making you make noises you never made before, those noises going straight to his cock.

“I’m cumming!” You say it over and over again, not being able to say any other words.

“Me too baby, Where do you want it? Tony grunts out as he does a few more thrusts into you as started cumming all over his cock.

“I don’t care! I’m on the pill anyway!” You moan out, making Tony smirk more as he grabs your waist holding you onto his cock as he cum in you.

Tony slowly pulled over you once you and he rides the high out, making you finally collapse on the bed, Tony next to you.

“Fuck…that was amazing,” you say and giggle out as Tony smiles, looking over at you and seeing your mess, run-down makeup, and your exhausted face now.

Tony, smiling as he pushed your hair out of his face and slowly got up, putting his boxers on.

“Where are you going?” You ask calmly.

“To run you a bath, make you something to drink and eat if you'd like…then we can cuddle,” he says, and you smile softly at him.

“Good,I’m sore already. I’ve never been fucked like that” you say, and he laughs as he walks into his bathroom, starting a warm bath, and grabbing pain relief for you as he walked out, going downstairs and grabbing you juice and water with some fruit he cut up quickly placing them in a bowl for you and him.

Tony came back as he chuckled, seeing you facts asleep and a mess in the bedsheets. Tony places it down, and he gently shakes you, making you groan as Tony picks you up and wakes you.

Your new-found lover slowly takes you to the bathroom as he places you in the tub, and you smile softly at him.

“Here, pain relief and some water.” He says as he hands it to you, and you take the pill with ease with some water.

“Move up.” He says, and you do as you watch him slip his underwear off and get in the tub with you. Tony pulled you close in as you relaxed in the big tub with warm water wrapping around you and him.

“Let’s get you washed up, shall we?” He asks, and you nod slowly as Tony grabs some soap, and he washed you up and down.

Then began washing your hair for you as you relaxed into his arms even more, and you thoroughly enjoyed this as he washes your hair. Sighing out in happiness as Tony wraps you in a warm towel once you and he gets out.

“Oh, here’s your purse just in case, do what you need to do. I’m going to go change the sheets” he says, and you nod as he leaves you in the bathroom to finish anything else.

Changing the sheets and the blankets as he got fresh clean ones and fresh new blankets for the bed and pillows. Tony brings you some of his clean clothes as he smiles at you as you come out of the bathroom.

“Mm just hold me, Tony,” you say tiredly as you get onto the bed and Tony grins as he gets in next to you.

Tony pulls you close as you place your head on his chest to his heartbeat.

“I enjoyed tonight.”You express

“Me too, you did an excellent job” He praises making you smile widely.

“Tony…. I love you and I have loved you since we started being lab partners in school.” You say burying your face into his chest.

Tony laughed as he saw your cute reaction

I love you too Y/n… I feel the same way. Ever since that day too” he says, you beamed back at him making him laugh, holding you back.

“Get some rest. I’ll be here in the morning. My love” he says, and you smile as you and Tony cuddle and carry out a soft conversation aligned with you eating all the fruits and juice he got you as the both of you talk until you went to sleep in Tony's arms as he gave you soft kisses on the lips.

#avengers fanfiction #fanfic #fanfiction #marvel #marvel fanfic #marvel fic #marvel imagine #marvel smut #marvel x reader #marveladdicts #tony stark smut #tony stark x reader #tony stark imagine #tony stark #young tony stark #smut #mcu smut

[shelbgrey]

Bones Halloween Special

Paring: Lance Sweets x Hodgins!Reader x others(Platonic)

Summary: y/n Hodgins and her friends go to a haunted attraction for Halloween and they find something unexpected but not surprising for them.

A/n: this is a re-telling of an old greys anatomy fic I wrote, hopefully this one is better.

MasterList

Halloween was among us, I for one loved the holiday but with our job every day was Halloween. When I was a kid I loved dressing up and watching horror movies. None of my friends really cared for Halloween expect maybe my brother Jack and my fiance Lance.

But the last few years our group of friends started a tradition where we'd go to someone's house and watch a bunch of horror movies and eat junk food.

When we all got off work we headed to Temperance and Booth's house. While me, Cam and Angela were getting snacks, Jack and Lance were looking for movies.

While everything was getting set up we waited for the other guests while Booth and Aristoo watched the news for some reason.

“why are you watching the ne-”

“shh” Booth said cutting me off and turned the volume up. There was a lady standing infront of a haunted house on the TV.

“Tonight's is the opening night of DC's Great Balls of Fire, a haunted attraction that has caused some controversy in recent weeks drawing from local urben ledgends and actual serial killers... One maze is actually based on H. H Holmes, is this in poor taste, of just good old fashioned fun?”

Booth sighs and turns off the the TV. “sounds like just a bunch of over sensitive a-holes trying to shut down everyones Halloween fun”

“but if these are based off actual murders around here they could have families” Cam said. “hell, we probably solved a couple of them” I added.

“dude... What if it's haunted? Like haunted haunted” Jack said getting excited, Temperance was quick to rain on his parade. “actually, it's not possible for paranormal activity”

“well, we should still go” I said putting the bowl of popcorn on the coffee table. Angela rolled her eyes and stood up as the air fryer dinged “I'm gonna get the pizza rolls”

“I'll go with you” Cam added

“Aw, common Ang” Jack called out.

Not a second later Angela’s screams erupted through the houses then a cash sound followed along with what sounded like Cam's cackles. We all looked over to where the sound came from, confused. Angela came racing in shaking while Wendell followed, rubbing his head. He had crumbs in his hair and red sause on his face from the pizza rolls.

“What happened to you?” I asked, chuckling.

Wendell turned around and looked at Angela. “You hit me in the head with an air fry basket” Angela whipped back around. “Well you snuck up on me, what do you expect?”

“Where's the pizza rolls?” Lance joked as Angela sat down next to Jack with her arms crossed, Jack chuckled and wrapped his arm around her. “Aw, come on babe, it's Halloween everyone's entitled to a good scare”

“so we going or what? It'll be alot more entertaining than y/n and sweets' horror movie collection” Booth joked. “hey..” me and Lance both said.

“going where?” Wendell asked. “The Halloween amusement park thing just outside of the city” Cam said.

Temperance rolled her eyes. “it's just a bunch of cheep rides and haunted houses that aren't even scary. It's a waist of time”

“you scared Bones?” Booth teased, she just rolled her eyes. “with the stuff we see everyday nothing should faze us now”

“soo...” me and Lance both said looking at everyone.

“Sure, why not” Jack said looking at everyone for confirmation. “you in Wendell?” he nodded.

“cam? Arastoo?” I asked turning to the couple. She nodded with a big smile. “I've been in for a while.”

“yeah, it should be fun” Arastoo nodded.

“Come on Bones, it'll be fun” I said. Temperance soon gave in with a smile. Shee nodded making everyone cheer.

After transportation planning and a few extra details we all separated into three cars and headed out.

~~~~~~~~(.......)~~~~~~~~

“we made it!” me and jack cheered as the the both of raced in leaving the group behind.

“wait up guys! We still need tickets!” Angela shouted making us sighed and walk back.

The line was long but thankful we were towards the front. “lot of weirdos” Cam mumbled. A guy in a clown costume that was behind her and Temperance in line tried to scare them, It didn't work. Temperance didn't even flinch and Cam rolled her eyes.

“boo, so scary” Cam said sarcastically, Arastoo put his arm on her shoulder turning her away from the clown. Booth wrinkled up his nose and subtly moved closer to me and Lance.

We all finally got in with our VIP passes and the place was a sight to see to say the least. Before we set off Lance came up to me with a creeped out expression as he took my hand.

“Sweets we just got here, what's the problem?” Booth asked. He looked around a shivered.

“please tell me the ticket guy licked his lips at all of you and not just me?” I scrunched my noise up in discussed and Booth started laughing.

“would it make you feel better if is said yes?” I asked sweetly, his looked slightly annoyed now. “no, because I don't want so random dude doing that to my fiance” I chuckled which made a smile creep on his face.

“come on, let's have some fun” I said as all of us set off to explore the place.

Booth looked over to Temperance who just looked around slightly board but still trying to look like she was having fun. “this really isn't your thing, is it?” I asked her.

She shrugged with a smile. “I'm just happy to do something with Booth and you guys” Booth was about to lean down and kiss her head, but a guy in a clown costume scared us. Booth jumped in to Temperance's arms and Lance flinched and held on to me, me and Temperance both laughed.

“okay, that was fun” Temperance laughed. I chuckled and pulled Lance along to catch up with the other.

“haunted house?” Wendell asked. We all agreed making our way in. Arastoo and Cam went in first cleaning to each other. The first guy that popped out was bloody, cannibal like doctor making Angela jump into Jack's arms with fear.

She pushed him away like nothing happened. “and... That's just insulting” Temperance said pointing at the doctor as she walked by with Booth.

Strob lights and blood surrounded us as we walked into a canbilist farm themed room. The place was based off. The text chain saw mascara movies obviously.

“ew, that looks so real” Cam said looking at a dummy that was gutted to piece. I looked at it and decided to screw with her.

“that's probably pig intestines, it's what they used in Day of the dead” I said pointing at the dummy. Arastoo wrapped his arm around Cam and looked at me disgust. “how do you know that?”

“same reason I know that I know they used corn syrup for pigs blood in Carrie” I shrugged and Lance wrapped his arm around my waist.

Next we walked into a pitch black room. “okay... Something is gonna pop out” Angela mumbled clinging to Jack.

“hello?” Temperance yelled.

“they aren't gonna respond” Booth said as he looked around.

Strob light suddenly turned on and a bloody clown, taller then Booth came charging at us with a ax. Booth screamed and ran for it while Temperance laughed.

The final room was a back room full of maquines with wolf masks. “one of you are real” Lance mumbled. We successfully made it to the other side without getting scared which made Angela feel confident to walk through. As she went one of them moved and grabbed her scream bloody murder.

She ran out with Jack and the rest of us chacing her.

“that was so badass!” Jack cheered as we made it out to the end. Me and jack high-five then turned to our friend group, everyone seemed shaken up except Temperance.

After that we hit the cheeply made games. Booth and I went up agint each other while Lance and Jack went to a ring toss booth. Surprisingly I won and I wasn't gonna let Booth forget it. “yes! Suck on that!” he laughed and gave me the win.

“here you go” Lance said from behind me. I turned around to find my fiance Holding a little fox plushie he won. I smiled and thanked him with a quick peck on the cheek.

Angela, Cam, and Arastoo then came back with giant preziles and funnel cakes. “What did we miss?” Arastoo asked handing me my funnel cake.

“y/n whipped Booth in a Shooting game” Jack laughed. “yes, that's my girl!” Angela said high-fiving me as Lance took the paper plate and ate some of the funnel cake.

The dude running the Booth gave me my prize, which was a panda bear plushie. I thanked him and gave it Lance.

“i saw another haunted house when I was getting drinks... Sounds pretty scary” Cam said. “i think there's alot of clown crap, so it's probably based off IT or something” Arastoo added.

Booth's eyes bugged out in fear from behind me and Lance. Cam noticed and chuckled. No one knew of his fear expect me and Temperance. He reluctantly agreed as we headed off.

“you alright?” Lance asked, Booth pushed his shoulder slightly. “it's your day off Shrink”

“God, I hate clowns” Booth mumbled. Temperance stopped and grabbed his hand. “We don't have to go in if you don't want to... I'll stay out here with you while the others go in” he shook his head and pulled her along.

“no, let's go” Temperance rolled her eyes and tired to stop him but no dice.

We all went to the entrance which was old, rugged door with very scary written on it. “how scary is 'very scary'?” Angela asked walking towards it. I shrugged when she stopped and looked at me for confirmation.

“it's a haunted house Angie” Wendell said opening the door. Cam, Arastoo, and Jack went through first. Angela sighed and walked in with Wendell.

“ladies first” Lance said to me and Temperance. Booth nodded and pushed me forward. “yup, we're gentleman around here”

Me and Temperance rolled our eyes and went in before our husbands. Lance garbed my hand as we walked through a room full of glowing mirrors. The light flashed on and off giving it an eary feeling.

It went pitch black for a few minutes then the blue lights came back on. A Pennywise actor jumped out and pounded on the window. “holy shit!” Booth said grabbing on to Temperance.

“I don't like it here!” Lance added, hiding behind me.

“Awsome” I said as we watched Pennywise run around.

We rounded a corner and ended up in a room full of clown statues and plushies. “oh you got be fucking kidding me” Booth mumbled as he watched every single clown making sure one of them wasn't gonna move. All the clown Dolls then started to shake and their eyes glew as we walked pasted.

As we exited we saw everyone was waiting. “that was very disappointing” Temperance said as we continued to walk around, Booth's eyes bugged out as he tried to recover from his 'trauma'.

“yeah I expected a bit more fear” I said. The others came out after words and Angela looked just as terrified as Booth.

Jack stuck his hands in his pockets and motioned to another attraction. “welp, there one more... Might as well get our money's worth” Angela sighed and followed him.

I tunred to my fiance and my best friend. “you two gonna be alright?” Lance nodded and so did Booth. “as long as there's no more freaking clowns.” he mumbled.

The four of us walked In the last building, it was The smallest one and looked like the haunted mansion from Scooby-Doo. We walked through a couple of hallway that made it feel like an actual Scooby-Doo themed attraction.

It wasn't really scary, meaning it didn't even bother Angela. “I think this is the end” Arastoo said.

As he said that the ceiling started cracking, something fell through making dust fill the area. “that smell is disgusting” Angela gasped as familiar stinch filled our noses.

“that's a rotting corps smell” I said covering my mouth and leaning into Lance.

“that looks really real” Arastoo said making us look down, it was clean skeleton that was stained red. Temperance knelt down and looked at the Skelton. “y/n, do you have your flashlight?”

I nodded and dug it out of my bag, Temperance shined it on the Skelton. “why would they put a real skeleton in a haunted house?” Angela asked.

"who knows, the 60s through the 80s were known to use real skeletons in horror movies” I said shrugging.

Jack took out his phone light and studied the now crime scene. “yup, look here sis” I looked and saw a couple of magets and a few termites.

“it looks like she's been here for almost four days” I said.

“call it in Booth it's real” Temperance said standing up. “looks like a female in her late 20s”

“thank God... Let's call it and get out of here” Booth mumbled and pulled out his phone and left the building, Lance followed pulling out his phone too. As they left a scare actor stopped them. Booth wasn't having it, getting into agent mode.

“Hey, this is a crime scene now” he barked and pulled out his badge. The scare actor's shoulders slumped and he pulled off his mask, he was just a teen.

“really man, I just got this job” the boys ignored him and called the Bureau.

“one normal night... That's all I ask” I sighed and stoped the other visitors before they could see the dead body.

“let's get her back to the lab before it catches too much attention” Temperance said.

The part of the park that we were at got shut down so the FBI could get through. Temperance and Jack left with them to get evidence.

“well that killed the mood” Angela said as we continued to walk after everyone was evacuated from the crim scene. “not really” I said.

“well, I'm beginning to believe this place is haunted” Cam added, I sighed. “well let's get to the lab, we're not going to bed anytime soon”

~~~~~~~~(.......)~~~~~~~~

We spent most of the night cleaning the Bones and checking for injuries. We found out the victim was strangled to death with one of those plastic chains that's used for decoration. The victim was killed and left about three day ago, three days before the Halloween park opened.

Lance came into my office about two hours later with tired eyes. I smiled softly as he plopped down on the couch that was in there. “did you get the killer”

Lance rubbed his face and nodded as I lyed down with him. “it was that kid me and Booth ran into when we were making calls”

“why did he do it?” I asked resting my head on his chest. “he wanted the part the victim had, apparently he worked at the attraction for years and the victim got the job right on the spot”

I shook my head. “the girl was so young”

“all her friends said she was so excited to get the job” Lance said.

We talked until we fell asleep, I don't know for how long but we were suddenly woken up by my brother. “What?”

“you guys should go home, the case is over” I sighed and looked at my watch and saw it was not only the next day but time for work too.

“no because our shift just started” I mumbled and sat up carefully. Lance ground and rolled over and fell back asleep. I let him sleep and went into the lab.

Everyone was setting around with energy drinks and coffee. “I'm starting to hate Halloween” Cam mumbled and downed her coffee.

Jack wordlessly handed me a monster and sat down next to him, as I sipped it the lights went out suddenly.

“son of a bitch!” I sighed and we just set there in the dark too tired to do anything.

#Bones #Lance Sweets x Hodgins!reader #Lance Sweets x reader #Lance Sweets imagines #Bones x reader #Bones imagines #Jack Hodgins x reader #Seeley Booth #Temperance Brennan #Camille Saroyan #arastoo vaziri #Angela Montenegro #Halloween imagines #Spooky season

[s-brant]

Super 8

When the hit gets moved up to the end of the week, Harry and Y/N have little time left to sort out their issues. With the added pressure of the time constraint and the possibility of death on the horizon, their relationship becomes more serious than either of them expected. (or hitman!h part seven)

21k (18+)

Warnings: smut, oral sex (female and male receiving), penetrative sex, role-playing, daddy kink, strong language, referenced torture, referenced violence/murder/threats of murder, referenced drink-spiking, referenced past self harm, anxiety, and post-traumatic stress disorder.

-

"What the fuck are you doing here?"

Y/N immediately turns to the side in hopes that her wig, as well as her dripping makeup, will conceal her identity from Zayn as he interrogates Harry for his presence here. The rain beats down on them hard enough for every drop to hurt where it meets her skin, and she can feel the synthetic hair of her wig starting to stick to the sides of her face, drenched from it. Thankfully, the coat they stole from the club keeps her shielded from the full brunt of the cold that threatens to freeze her.

He's having none of it, though, he marches right up to them and holds out his hand in her direction, saying, "You think I don't recognize her? We've been working together for almost two months, Harry, I'm not stupid!" He doesn't dare put his hand on the gun they both know is stowed away in the waistband of his jeans, but he does speak to him with an ire few people ever get away with. "Don't make me ask again. What the fuck are you two doing here?"

She's already reaching to hold Harry back by his arm, both of her hands wrapping around the forearm reaching for the gun on his hip, but he shakes her off. Before her or Zayn can react, he has the gun pulled out of its holster and aimed point-blank at the center of his friend's head.

Zayn's shrieking voice overpowers the sound of the rain pummeling the pavement, "What the fuck—"

"Get in the car," Harry says. He doesn't yell or put his hand on the trigger. Everything that leaves his mouth is calm and collected, which scares Zayn more than it would if he were loud or emotional about it. He doesn't say anything else except, "I'll tell you why we're here, just get in the car."

As if she'll do anything to stop him, Zayn looks over at her in a silent plea for help, but all she does is cross her arms over her chest and tilt her head toward the car. The hand he shoved the keys into grapples with them for a second before the sound of the car unlocking indicates she found the right button on the remote.

She says, "You heard him."

With a gun pointed at his head by a man he knows has no qualms about firing it, he sees no other choice but to comply. He mutters, "Fucking unbelievable," under his breath and turns to open the passenger's side door only to be interrupted by Harry making a "tsk" sound with his mouth. The gun still being aimed at his head is gestured to the backseat.

"The lady gets shotgun, you get the backseat."

What he doesn't have to tell her is that not only does he reserve the front seat for her out of respect, but he also does it in order to keep him from being able to jump out of the backseat while they're en route to wherever it is he plans on taking them. It's hard for her to refrain from smiling at him, from walking over and planting a kiss on his cheek for being so quick-witted. If Zayn sits in the back, he can keep him there with the child lock settings on the doors.

They both wait until he's locked in to get inside the car themselves, but, when they do, they remain utterly silent. They don't give him anything to go off of without being in a place far away from the lounge Leo and Ryan are currently at.

As the car's engine turns over and Harry pulls out of the parking spot, Zayn finally caves and speaks up.

"I'm his escort there tonight. If he comes back and sees I'm not there, he'll lose his shit."

She asks, "Well, what time did he say he'd be finished?"

There's a long pause following this that she takes as a promising sign. In the rearview mirror, the couple watches him and allows him to stew in the uncomfortable silence until he can't stand it any longer.

He sighs.

"One."

It couldn't be much later than it was when she checked the digital clock in the dressing room twenty-ish minutes ago, but she checks anyway to confirm they have a large enough time window to pull off the plan he likely concocting at this very moment. That gives them two and a half hours.

Without looking away from the road, Harry sets his gun down on her lap and says, "We have plenty of time.

-

Joe's Diner is, quite possibly, Y/N's favorite restaurant in the world.

Its food isn't anything special, nor are the milkshakes, lazy wait staff, and bathrooms that appear to have not been cleaned thoroughly since the early 2000s, but what makes it her favorite place are the memories attached to it. She first came here with her family, as a young girl, when they were visiting the city for Mardi Gras. Her dad thought it was a charming little place to stop by for lunch and, seeing that she and Peter, who'd been a mere nine years old at the time, were tugging on their parents' pant legs and moaning about how starving they were, it was the closest option.

Then, after her dad's funeral, while their mom was locked in her room crying herself to sleep, Peter drove her and Alanis down here for dinner and promised them he'd take their minds off of what happened for the rest of the night. They walked all around the French Quarter together after, and they weren't happy but they were okay. For the few hours they spent here, walking in a line and swinging their interlaced hands between them to the sound of jazz musicians playing their instruments on the street, the world felt less heavy.

Once her family dwindled down to her and Alanis after everything with her mom, Peter, and having to sell the house to afford to move to the city where she could find work fixing up cars, they'd go as many times as they could afford to. It seems fitting, she thinks, that this is the place he would take them for the conversation they have to have with Zayn

Harry sits on the same side of the booth as her, one hand resting on her thigh beneath the table where no one else can see, and Zayn sits opposite to them with a strange mixture of fear and aggression shown on his face. The waitress took their food orders seconds ago and, as she walks off, he stares at them.

"So?" he asks.

She shrugs and turns her gaze to Harry expectantly.

All he does is lean back against the booth seat and reach for the coffee pot the kind lady tending to them placed on the table. He told her they'd need quite a few cups, so she took it upon herself to leave the pot behind with them. It's not like there are any other customers in here right now. Y/N may not be fond of coffee herself, but between the two men accompanying her, she has no doubt they'll do some damage to it. It spills over the lip of the cup and forms a ring around the bottom of it when he pours it, but he doesn't make any move to clean it for now.

Unlike her, it's difficult for Zayn to read him behind the front he puts on to conceal the truth. He tries to gather something, anything, from the way Harry stares as he fills his cup with the steaming liquid, but he reveals nothing. She knows that it'll remain that way until he gives them proof that they can take him at his word and trust that he won't go running off to Leo the second they part ways. That is if they part ways.

Zayn may be his coworker and a loyal companion over the past decade, but if it comes down to it, he chooses her. Every single time, in every universe, he chooses her. He's gone through too much by her side and done too many things in the name of his worship for her to stop here. That's not to say he wouldn't mourn the loss of his closest coworker, he would, but he could make himself do it if he had to. If it was what it took to protect what's his.

"Perez is an FBI agent," Harry says quietly. "Tate drugged Y/N on his orders to provoke me and allow him to send a few of his men after Leo. He knew I'd get sent after the ones that lived, and when we went on that hit, he captured us. If m'gonna tell you the rest, I need you to prove to me that y'aren't gonna take this back to him."

There is no visible reaction to the news on his face. At first, she doesn't know whether or not he heard what he said with how blank his face has gone. If someone told her that without her having any prior knowledge, her eyes would pop out of her skull in shock. Actually, she's pretty sure she did react that way that night they met Garrett. Either he already knows about it or he doesn't believe a word Harry's saying. She's willing to bet all of the money she's earned in the time since she started working for Leo that it's the latter.

Then, he laughs.

He lets out a howling laugh and buries his face in his hands, shaking his head while they watch in anticipation of what he'll have to say next. Whether it'll be "Go fuck yourself" or "Are you stupid?", Harry isn't sure, but he's hoping it's neither. He's hoping to God that it's some form of compliance so he doesn't have to hurt someone he considers a friend for the sake of protecting everything they've done to get their freedom.

Zayn lets hands fall from his face and shifts in his place, reaching back to rest one arm on the back of the seat as he looks between the two of them in assessment.

"You're fucking with me, right?"

Neither of them laughs or smiles to indicate that being the truth. They simply stare back at him with the seriousness of the situation shown on their faces, silently praying that he won't do anything stupid in reaction to what they've told him as well as what they might go on to tell him. They can't blame him for thinking it's a joke, though. She probably would've thought it a joke too if she hadn't been told while she was restrained to a chair with a group of terrifying men surrounding her and threatening them with jail should they not comply.

Harry's head hangs lower than usual as he shakes his head.

"How am I supposed to prove it to you that I won't tell anyone? How does that even work?" he asks.

This time, it's Y/N who takes the lead in the conversation.

"You tell us something worthwhile. Something equally as dangerous that Leo can't know about," she says. "Trust us and we'll trust you."

It's a risky proposition to be sure, but it's not like they have any other choice. How else would he prove his loyalty to them? Without him having to talk to her about it, she knows that Harry is almost one-hundred percent sure Zayn won't run off and tell Leo about anything they discuss here, but there is no room for "almost" here. Not anymore.

Zayn's mouth opens and closes for a second before he keeps it shut while contemplating what to offer them. A muscle in his jaw clenches as he thinks it over in his mind, staring off at the table and tapping his fingers against it in thought. The lights from passing cars on the street flash over his face in whites and reds that either illuminate or darken his expression. It makes him harder to read.

After taking in a deep breath, he says, refusing to look anywhere but into Harry's eyes, "Alanis and I are together. We have been for a few weeks."

Beneath the table, the hand Harry has resting on her thigh instantly jerks in the direction of her hand to grab on and give it a firm squeeze. An order to stand down for the time being and postpone her freak-out for another time. He can see her expression transforming into one of outrage in his periphery, and he thinks based on that look alone that it might take all of his strength to hold her back from leaping over the table at their friend.

"Y/N..." he says softly in warning, but there is no stopping her.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" she asks. Her lips curl up from her teeth in a snarl as she rips her hand out of Harry's grasp. "I told you to stay away. You know how important she is to me, you know how dangerous it is for Leo to know who we care about, so why would you do that? How could you?"

Seeing her eyes turning watery with tears sets off an alarm in the back of Harry's mind that urges him to do something, anything he can, to fix it. Of course, there isn't anything he can do short of joining her in berating him or beating the shit out of him, but neither are advisable courses of action. Not to mention, he isn't too keen on hurting one of his friends. Although he's the reason for her tears, he can't do anything except over her comfort.

He reaches back for her hand and, this time, doesn't squeeze it tightly to tell her to calm down. Instead, he rips his glove off without thinking and entwines their fingers to convey a different message than the first. The feeling of his scarred flesh beneath her fingertips causes her to go still, her mind blanking on all the things she imagined saying or doing to Zayn in retribution for him breaking his word.

The discomfort felt deep in his chest isn't lost on him, but none of it matters as much as providing her the comfort she needs at a time like this. Suddenly, it's tolerable when it's done for her sake. The memories of when Leo, along with five other men to hold him down, held his hand in the flames crackling in his fireplace do not take over the way they once would have.

"Oh, cut the shit," he says, and Harry shoots him a stare that seems to say, "Watch it," without having to speak it aloud, "I'm serious. Everyone else may be too stupid to see it, but I know you guys are together. What's the difference between you two and me and Alanis?"

She leans closer over their side of the table.

"The difference is that she's all I have left of my family. I already work with Leo, she doesn't, that's the difference."

"Leo already knows about her. As long as we keep it quiet, nothing changes," he says.

Deciding it's gone too far, or, rather, it will go too far should he not intervene, Harry holds a hand up to stop the two of them from ripping each other's heads off.

"Alright, enough." He gives Zayn a pointed look. "Y'did what she asked." His gaze then turns to find Y/N sitting beside him, their bare hands held together on her lap. "And we can talk about this later, but there's bigger shit to worry about right now. M'serious, Zayn, if you tell anyone..."

The weight of what they're soon to tell Zayn comes crashing down on her all at once now that Harry has started to prep him for it. Nothing he's assuming in his head could measure up to the truth. Every table around them is empty, and the wait staff are either on the phones behind the counter or on an extended cigarette break, so he doesn't waste much time. No need to torture him with the wait.

He looks over his shoulder to check if anyone is paying attention to them, then says it.

"Perez has us working for him to off Leo's brother. He's the director of the FBI. That's why Leo gets away with everything. That's why so many of the cops are paid off and do his dirty work, and, if we manage to get rid of Ryan, they can lock Leo up for the rest of his life or let me have him," he explains. "Once that's done, we can get out."

Before he can fully wrap his head around the information, Zayn asks, "When?"

She shrugs.

"It's planned for one of the days between Christmas and New Year's but depending on what Leo or Ryan know, it could be sooner. All we know is the timeframe at this point."

Before he can respond, the waitress comes back with her arms full of plates.

It's hard for her to remain seated here for the rest of their meal without bringing up Alanis or picking a fight with Zayn, but she tries. She instead focuses on the feeling of Harry holding her hand with his burnt one and allows it to distract her from the rage begging to release from inside of her. Well, that and the stack of blueberry pancakes she ordered. Not that Harry ever knew, but she grew to enjoy them after spending countless mornings eating what he made for her. The blueberry was a surprise addition, however. She shocked herself by actually enjoying it when she cut them up and ate them without the usual lake of maple syrup poured over them.

It's the most awkward forty minutes of their lives.

Harry keeps eyeing her up in his peripheral vision to make sure she won't sucker punch Zayn from across the table or start another argument, Zayn doesn't look up from his plate of waffles, and Y/N devours all of her pancakes with the thought of beating him to a bloody pulp on the mind.

Just after the waitress drops off the check, Zayn's phone rings.

The second he picks it up and reads the contact name, she knows who it is based on his face alone, yet he still dares to answer it in front of her. How she hasn't bitch slapped him yet, she isn't sure, but she's pretty damn close to snapping and allowing herself to do it.

"Hey," he says the word as though he fears it.

Through the speakers, she can faintly pick up on the familiar pattern of Alanis' voice from across the table. The hand Harry holds squeezes so tightly, he fears she may cut off the circulation to his fingers.

He stands from the booth in response to whatever she says, nodding his head and muttering that he can come over. When he drops two fifty dollar bills onto the table and tries to walk off without even sparing them a word, she lurches from the booth seat after him, wrenching her hand from Harry's grip to allow her to catch up to him. The sound of her heels clicking on the tiled floor echoes in the empty room, and she's just about to reach him when she feels a pair of hands grabbing her from behind by her shoulders.

"No."

She jerks forward against the strength of the arms restraining her to no avail.

"Let me go after him!"

But he doesn't budge. He holds on tighter and keeps her locked in his embrace until the headlights of Zayn's car shine through the windows. Since he has the keys, not her, it won't end in a chase that's designed for him to lose. By the time he lets go and allows her to rush out through the front doors to the diner, Zayn's sports car is already flying down the street in the direction of the apartment building a few blocks away.

The rain soaks her damp wig again and leaves her to shiver in the long coat wrapped around her naked frame as she watches the car disappear in the foggy night. Behind her, she can hear the door opening and closing, and she doesn't have to guess who it is before whipping around to face Harry with the promise of fury evident in her eyes.

"Why didn't you let me go?"

Her voice is a shrill yell over the sound of the rain pounding the pavement and cars speeding by, sending puddles of water washing over the sidewalk in waves. His arms are crossed over his chest, his back against the wall of the building, and he doesn't give into her demanding tone by reacting how she wants him to. Those fluffy waves are flattened to the shape of his head as he stares her down as if to ask, "Why would I?"

He sighs, taking a few steps closer to her, and murmurs, "C'mere," with his arms extended in invitation.

"Yeah, no," she says with a scoff, "Fuck this. Give me the keys."

"Not gonna happen, sweetheart."

"He's fucking my best friend! It was the one thing I asked him not to do, and he went behind my back to do it! She has no business being involved in any of this! If Leo finds out, it won't be good, you know that! You fucking know that, so give me the keys!"

She holds her hand out with her palm facing up with the expectation of him bending to her will, but she's in for a rude awakening if she thinks she can order him around. He steps into her space and tilts his head down to speak to her, forcing her to see the seriousness of his words.

"Let them be," he says with a sharp edge to his voice. "Y'can't control who she dates, and you were being stupid telling Zayn to stay away."

Her brows furrow.

"Excuse me?"

"What did y'think was gonna happen? When y'tell someone not to do something, it's the first thing they're gonna do. He was probably not even serious about asking her out until you made her off-limits. That's how guys like us are."

All of that pent-up anger felt for Zayn is now aimed at him as they face off with each other in the vacant parking lot of the diner. Neither of them backs down, as expected whenever the two of them start fighting. To his outrage, she actually has the audacity to laugh in his face. Her hands come up to wipe the soaked bangs out of her eyes, and she shakes her head.

"What does that even mean? Guys like you?" Every word is laced with enough aggression to strike him down where he stands. "What? Is that what happened with me? I was off-limits and you decided that was what made me interesting?"

He doesn't know what to go with other than the truth.

"I mean, yeah. I assumed y'had a boyfriend when I saw Peter's picture in your apartment, and Leo told me not to fuck you the day after he hired you. He didn't want me to complicate things, and I always took any chance I could to get back at him, so I did."

And, with that, she thinks her heart cracks open. He may not realize what he said, but, fuck, it makes her chest ache from the cruelty of it. She knew she didn't mean anything to him at the beginning of whatever they have together, but being reduced to nothing more than a pawn to get back at his boss hits her right where it hurts after weeks of being treated like she matters. Like she was more than just a quick fuck that he decided he didn't mind befriending for the sheer convenience of it all.

She asks, bottom lip trembling, "What the fuck is wrong with you? I thought"—Tears roll down her cheeks as she stumbles a step away from him—"I know you hate talking about how you feel, but, even then, I thought a small part of you cared. At least a little bit."

Was it all in her head? Did she make up every sweet moment and gesture, every time he let the mask slip a little, because she wanted them to be true? By the time he first saw her apartment, she thought he was starting to befriend and trust her, but, apparently, it was an act he put on to get into her pants. She wants to hate him for it. She wants to loathe him forever for starting their partnership on something as vile as using her for revenge against Leo, but the only person she loathes is herself. For wanting it. For viewing him through rose-tinted glasses and being so lonely, she led him by the hand right into her heart.

Harry follows her to where she has retreated off the curb of the walkway and says, his face flushed, "I don't know when y'started with this delusion of me being a good guy, but I'm not. I fucking kill people for a living! I treated you like shit when we first met and got off on thinking y'cheated on your boyfriend with me! I'm a bad person, Y/N, you should know who you're dating!"

Everything stops. The thoughts racing through her mind, the words that were on the tip of her tongue, her anger—everything. It takes a few seconds for him to even register why her entire face shifted from a look of fury to shock, but once he does, his face softens too.

She says softly, "Harry..."

Just like that, the wall between them comes back down, and he rushes past her in the direction of the Escalade parked in one of the front spots. His steps splash water up on his pant legs, but he doesn't pay it any mind in the face of what he thinks was a grave mistake he made. The quiet cries escaping her grow louder as she watches him walk away from her. No sign of the sweet, caring man from minutes ago who held her hand without his glove to protect him.

"Get in the car. We're going home."

-

Y/N spent the rest of the night crying herself to sleep.

Curled up in sheets and pillows that smelled of him, she sobbed hard enough to give herself a throbbing headache that she was forced to sleep off rather than risk going out into the kitchen to take a pain reliever. She hoped that once they got in the apartment, he might be willing to talk about any of what happened tonight, but he didn't. He locked himself in his office room the second he got the door open and left her with no company but her own. She wandered around the living room and kitchen, pouring herself a glass of water and half-heartedly watching the next episode of the show they were watching, before retiring to the bedroom for the night.

She hadn't bothered to shut the blinds covering the floor-to-ceiling windows when she passed out without even washing off her smeared makeup, so the sunlight is what wakes her. The wig she ripped off of her head sits where it was thrown on the bottom of the bed, and she groans at the lingering ache felt in the front of her head from last night's hysterics as she pokes her head up to see it.

Her hand slaps over her face as she mutters, "Fuck," under her breath.

Last night.

What he said hurt her, yes, but she can't deny that she'd been quick to escalate things in the wake of what she learned about Zayn and Alanis. Not to mention, it's harder to be angry about his intentions at the beginning of their relationship after what he said at the end of their conversation.

You should know who you're dating.

Is that what he sees their relationship as? This whole time, she never thought it more than a matter of convenience on his part. It made sense to her, but, now, she can't seem to wrap her head around it. If they weren't just fuck buddies who happened to be friends, what were they? How long have they been dating? It's not as if he asked her officially or took her on any dates to imply that's what they were to each other.

She tosses the sheet off of her and sits up on the side of the bed with a heavy sigh. There's no point in drawing out the torture, is there? She should simply stroll out there and act like everything is normal, not giving him the chance to continue last night's argument or act with cruelty toward her for the sake of pushing her away again. It's her apartment now too, she shouldn't have to hide in the bedroom like a scared little kid. He doesn't scare her.

Although she hadn't washed her makeup off, she did peel off the nipple stickers and change into one of his shirts for bed, only wearing a comfortable pair of leggings underneath. As she walks out into the living room, she's thankful to at least be covered by that when seeing him again for the first time since last night.

At first, she doesn't spot him in the kitchen. Her gaze goes straight to the couch to find him where he usually lounges, either watching something in the morning or scrolling through stuff on his phone, but he isn't there. It isn't until she searches around the room a second time and turns to head into the kitchen to start making herself breakfast that she sees him.

If the sight of him alone didn't concern her, she might have fought a smile at the fact that he still made her pancakes despite the small rift put between them yesterday. But, the way he's hunched over the kitchen counter with his head hung low between his shoulders prevents her from feeling anything but worry, even after what he admitted to her last night.

"Harry?"

Her voice is timid when she asks it, approaching slowly as one would when walking up to a wounded animal.

Throughout most things, he keeps his cool. He forces himself to maintain an appearance of a calm, collected man who doesn't let anything get under his skin, but the way he looks right now...It must be something bad, so bad that he can't be bothered to care about whatever trivial relationship issues they have going on.

She stops a few feet behind him and asks, "What's wrong?"

Her heart almost stops when she hears him speak next.

"The hit was moved up to Saturday."

Saturday? Today is Thursday. It's the first of December, what happened to it being planned for after Christmas? That's two days away. Only two days of time to mentally prepare herself for either the end of her life or picking up and moving to a new country, always on the run for what they've done. Thank God she already knows how to ride a motorcycle and was taught to shoot by Harry last week. If not, they'd have to cram everything into the next forty-eight hours.

She walks the rest of the way up to him and leans against the counter, tilting her head to the side to make him look at her.

"I don't understand. Why would they do that?"

He shrugs, feigning indifference despite the obvious tears in his eyes. She has never seen him this distraught over having to complete a job in the entirety of their time working together, and it stuns her to silence as she watches him.

"Ryan suspects there's a rat in his team and warned Leo. He asked him for additional protection because he doesn't feel safe, so Garrett is moving it up. Says we have to act fast if we want to make it out alive," he explains, his voice dull and monotonous.

Two days.

That's potentially all they have left together before everything changes. All of that rage she felt last night is scattered to the wind now that she realizes how temporary it all is. Any second of any day, it could all end, and she feels foolish for wasting any time being mad at Alanis, Zayn, or Harry. He wasn't right in whatever cruelty he showed her last night, but she wasn't right either. It hurts to be lied to, but she has no right to dictate who anyone does or doesn't love.

The thought of it makes her chest muscles tighten up, constricting her ability to breathe, and she can feel a lump forming in the back of her throat that she cannot manage to swallow. It sends her stepping back away from him. Her eyes flood with tears as she shakes her head in response to the chaos of her own thoughts and feels the safety of the world she created with him come crashing down around her.

"I"—she stammers—"I need to go. I need to talk to Alanis. I'm sorry."

She gives him no opportunity to stop her, rushing herself off toward the front door and swiping the keys to one of his lesser used cars off the small rack mounted to the wall before disappearing from view.

Everything is a blur.

In all honesty, she shouldn't be driving in such an emotional state but getting to Alanis is all she can think of as she speeds from street to street away from his apartment building in pursuit of hers. Cars honk their horns at her for how she weaves in and out of traffic and nearly rear-ends multiple people, but, at this point, why should she care? She and Harry might be dead within days anyway, so what's to fear about a car accident? Or getting pulled over for a speeding ticket?

No one pulls her over by the time she screeches to a halt in the parking lot of Alanis' apartment building, though. Not even passing pedestrians turn their heads to observe her as she slams the door to the Mercedes shut and sprints around the side of the building to the locked front doors, frantically digging through her purse for the key Alanis had made for her when she first moved in. Her trembling hands make turning the key in the lock nearly impossible, but once she manages to do it, she is flinging it open into the sidewalk and running as fast as she can up flight after flight of stairs.

The elevator would take too long. She needs to see her now, she needs to say everything she hasn't yet and pray it's enough should she never come back into her life again. This time, Harry isn't here to help her up whenever she trips or stumbles due to the tears blurring her vision, and it takes her longer than she wishes to reach the second to last floor of the fifteen-floor building.

She slumps against the door to her apartment and pounds on it with a closed fist, calling out her friend's name.

"Alanis!"

Her voice breaks when she speaks again.

"Please, open the door! I need you," she cries, "I'm really scared and I just need to be with you right now. Please..."

The silence that follows is louder than anything she has ever heard. Not even her neighbors move around or crack open their doors to see which crazy woman is making a scene at eight in the morning on a random Thursday. There are no footsteps behind the locked door, nor are there any voices speaking to indicate that Zayn came back after escorting Leo back home last night to sleep over. Anyone who walks by would likely take pity on her. What a sorry sight she is, sliding down to her knees in front of the door with tears wetting her face and further smudging the makeup leftover from last night.

She sits here for five whole minutes, pressing her forehead against the wall and sobbing so hard, she's shocked she hasn't woken up everyone residing on the floor nearby, before she finally hears the sound of a door opening and shutting inside the apartment. The sound of her friend's footsteps coming down the hall leading to the door might as well be a choir of angels singing to her, all crescendoing in unison until they are snuffed out like the light of a candle with the door swinging open.

"Y/N?"

Hearing her voice breathes life back into her weary body and lifts her head from its place against the wall to see Alanis standing there with concern written across her pretty face. Harry is the one who makes her feel the safest, and that will never change, but Alanis has always been the one person in the world who has never turned her away. Not even when they've fought has she denied her a place to stay if she needed it, or a chance to be heard or given a second chance should she have done anything to warrant it. The reason she came here is that she knew, no matter what, that she would never ice her out.

She sniffles and asks, "Can I come in?"

The question isn't even dignified with a verbal response. She's already crouching down to help Y/N up from her spot on the ground and guiding her past the open door by the tail end of the question.

Once the door is kicked shut, Alanis stops her and cups her face between her hands.

"What happened, babe?"

This only makes her sob louder and harder, crumbling in her arms and bearing most of her weight against the front of her body. She buries her face in the crook of her neck, unable to say it directly to her face.

"Everything is so fucked. Harry and I have to do something really, really risky in a few days that I can't even tell you about or else you might get killed, and he's been ignoring me all night because, apparently, we're dating and he doesn't know how to feel about it! I feel like"—she takes a gasping breath and clings onto her waist as if she'll disappear whenever she lets go—"I feel like I might die if I don't talk about it, and I can't even do it with him because he's probably still pissed at me after our argument last night! I just miss the way everything used to be! I miss my parents, I miss Peter, I just want my old life back!"

Alanis doesn't do anything other than wrap her up in her arms and whisper soothing words. At this point, none of this can surprise her. Dating Zayn and being exposed to this life through both him and Y/N has left her with little room to be taken aback by anything anymore. So, rather than reacting with the type of shock that most people would, she just holds her there in her arms and strokes the back of her head as she whispers to her.

After her breathing has started to slow, Alanis says softly, "I know, Zayn told me about everything last night..."

This pauses every thought whirling in Y/N's head, and she pulls back from her cherished spot in the crook of her friend's neck to look at her through narrowed eyes. That lost anger washes back over her.

"Why? We told him he can't say anything—"

"No, no, it's not like that. You can trust him to keep your secrets," she says, then sighs. "He only told me because he wants me to leave the country before it happens. He said that if it goes wrong and Leo comes after me because of either of you, he wants me to be as far away as possible."

Y/N cannot lie and say that doesn't do wonders to dissolve whatever anger just came rushing over her again. It shifts something in her mind, altering the part of her that took to heart what Harry said last night about "guys like us" and setting it straight. It hits her like a bolt of lightning.

"Oh my god...he loves you," Y/N mutters, not even aware that she's saying it out loud and not in her head.

To this, Alanis chuckles, raising one hand to wipe at the tears that have sprung to her eyes at the sight of her friend being in a state of severe distress.

"You're one to talk. Zayn said he's never seen Harry treat anyone the way he treats you." Her voice then switches to one of gentle teasing, "He's in looooove."

This gets Y/N to break her fifteen-minute streak of sobbing to laugh along with her. Once again, she's left wondering how Alanis always manages to do this. To take her worst moments and turn them into something golden, something precious. It happened countless times after her family passed too. There's an innate talent inside of her for it, and, when she thinks about this, she realizes that her brother and Zayn were lucky to have her in whatever way they could. No wonder every person who spots her falls face-first into the pavement in love with her. It's rare that anyone with her degree of outer beauty has an inner beauty that outruns it by such a landslide.

Y/N says, "For what it's worth, I agree with him, and I'm glad he cares enough about you to help you escape before shit gets bad. It's what Peter would've done, and I was coming here to ask you to do the same exact thing too." She sniffles. "Well, that and to help me figure out how the fuck I'm supposed to talk to Harry about our relationship when I go back home"

Her friend cocks a brow at her.

"Home?" she asks. "As in his home? Okay, that's it, you're staying here and telling me everything now that you've decided to stop being a liar!"

That's all it takes for Alanis to drag her off in the direction of the living room with the sound of their giggles echoing off the walls of the small hallway in their wake.

-

The next ten hours of the day at Alanis' soon-to-be abandoned apartment were a blissful reprieve from the reality of her future. They decided not to talk about what was planned to happen on Saturday, instead opting to gossip about their men and have one last movie night before they're to part ways for a little while. In her heart, Y/N knew that everything would end up alright. She and Harry would do what they were ordered to and find her in whatever far-off country Zayn told her to flee to, but the small part of her that remained uncertain needed to stay with her for as long as she could.

Just in case it was the final time.

It wasn't Y/N who decided when it was time to leave, though, it was Alanis. Having a best friend who understands you to your very core is a double-edged sword, in her opinion, because while it makes for wonderful days like the one they spent together, it also means that they can spot the true intentions of your heart from miles away.

She could tell that Y/N was lingering long after the last movie ended not because she wanted to stay the night but because she was afraid of what might happen when she went back home. Not in a way that meant she was concerned for her safety—as Harry once said, he would never—but in a way that meant she was concerned for the outcome of the conversation they were due to have.

But, according to Alanis' take on it, there wasn't much to worry about.

"Babe, if you think he isn't in love with you, you're stupid, okay? If you forgive him for what he did, then tell him that. If you don't, then say that. Men aren't that complicated. I know he seems like he is, but I bet he's just scared shitless that you won't feel the same way."

So, she drove back over to their apartment building with that on replay in her mind, hoping against hope that Alanis was somehow right and everything will be okay between her and Harry again the second she walked through the front door.

The front door sits in front of her for a long moment before she can summon the strength to unlock it. She stands there for a long time, imagining all the different ways this could go wrong and end in her never getting to have him in the way she has for the past month or so, and tries to keep herself from getting worked up over it before they even have a conversation. For all she knows, Alanis could've been right. What if, just this once, something goes her way? She has lost everything—her brother, her parents, her autonomy, her potential in life—but the one thing she couldn't survive losing is him.

If she didn't push through all of the hardship for a reason, if it wasn't for him, for something at least, then she won't know what to do with herself. When Alanis leaves New Orleans and gets shipped off to whatever country of her choosing, Harry is the one person she will have left in this world. What happens if he casts her aside because he can't handle the pressure of meaning that much to her? The question she didn't dare present to Alanis when she said he probably feared her rejection was: What if what he's afraid of is her loving him back?

In the end, she opens the door like she would rip off a bandaid. The last thing she expected to see when rushing through the front door, however, is this.

Harry spins around, on defense immediately with a pair of Christmas tree ornaments raised as make-shift weapons before he sees who it is and visibly relaxes for a second, then halts as though he remembers the sour note they left off on. In the corner of the living room, a real tree is propped up in a stand and lit up with white string lights. Dozens of ornaments, which she assumes are brand new considering the fact that she has never pegged him for an avid celebrator of Jesus's birthday, already hang from the limbs of fresh pine that extend out from the trunk and sprinkle needles onto the towels he laid out on the hardwood floor.

For a second, they can't do anything but stare at one another across the immeasurable distance that has grown between them in less than a day and, somehow, shrinks into nothing the second he realizes that she came back. Part of him couldn't help but wonder as he paced around the kitchen in the moments following her departure if she was leaving him forever. If last night was the final straw and she was going to ask him if they could fulfill the plan he offered her in her kitchen early last month. For her to flee and leave him as the sacrificial lamb to pay the price for her escape. He decided as he went out to shop for Christmas decorations that he'd do it if she asked. If that was what she wanted, he would do it for her. It would be the least he could do.

He says as means of greeting, "Um, I thought we could do Christmas tonight since we might not get the chance to spend it together after everything coming up."

His lips press together tightly, likely to keep himself from saying more and begging her to have mercy on him after yesterday, and he stares at her with hope swimming laps in his irises. Back at Alanis' apartment, she already knew she forgave him for everything, but, now, nothing could stop her from crawling back into his arms and accepting his apology with as many kisses as she can manage.

Y/N shuts the door behind her, rushing forward across the open space and throwing herself into his arms once she reaches the other side of the room. The ornaments in his hands make it difficult to hold her up, but he manages, and he doesn't have the chance to say or ask anything before she's kissing him. Without thinking, he kisses her back, but not the way he usually does. This kiss is softer, and sweeter, and they both realize around the same time that it's their first real kiss as a couple.

His hands drift up the sides of her body and squeeze her waist, using this as his leverage to tug her as close to him as he can. The second she feels this happen, she smiles into the kiss because she knows. She knows that he isn't pushing her away this time, and she doesn't have to fear losing him, not unless Saturday's plans go awry.

He pulls away earlier than he wishes for the sake of saying, "I got you a present."

This blossoms a warmth in her heart that she never would've guessed she'd feel upon coming home tonight. On the car ride home, she anticipated a disaster of stifled emotions and cruelty aimed to put her at a comfortable distance yet again, but this...This is new. This something strange and beautiful that she has never felt before, and she doesn't know whether or not telling him this would ruin the feeling before she's had the chance to truly enjoy it.

His gloved hand slips into hers to guide her away from the tree and over to the couch where a small, square-shaped box sits on the coffee table in front of it. Neither of them speaks until they're seated side by side, the curve of her hip fitting to his body perfectly as he settles into place with an arm wrapped around her back. The other arm outstretches to reach for the little black gift box she assumes is the present he spoke of seconds ago, and her cheeks ache from how hard she smiles.

"Please, don't tell me it's too much," he murmurs as his only warning before putting the box in her waiting hands. "I've been thinking about it for a few weeks now. This isn't an apology gift, I just"—he stops himself, his lips curving upwards in a shy smile—"I want you to have it. Honestly."

With that being said, she lifts the lid of the box and unwraps the tissue paper concealing the gift from view to find an old key laying at the bottom. But, it isn't just any old key, it's the same key she remembers stealing from him last month and turning in the ignition of the Cobra to drive to the race track. The realization of what he's trying to do hits her with a brutality she never saw coming.

"Harry," she starts, "This is..." Remembering what he just said, she pushes away any suspicions of this being a desperate bid to win her forgiveness and turns her head to find him staring at her, his eyes soft with affection. "Are you sure?"

He nods.

"Positive."

For what feels like the fifth time in the last twenty-four hours, she can sense her eyes welling up with tears, and when she feels his arm tighten around her waist, she falls forward with her face in his shoulder to embrace him. Her tears wet his shirt as she remains there, her arm slung around the back of his neck to force him to stay right there, but he doesn't care. He doesn't care about anything except for the happiness and appreciation he witnessed on her face before she threw herself on him.

When she pulls back, one of his hands is caressing along the edge of her jaw to bring her chin up so their faces are level. Happy tears. He has never been so glad to see her cry in the time they've known one another. Every other time, it was a result of his callous behavior that he loathed himself for causing, but this is something he takes pride in doing to her.

"I know this isn't an apology gift, but I am sorry for what I said last night," he says softly, nudging her nose with his. "I can't lie and say some of it wasn't true, but...I don't feel like that anymore. And it scares me, baby, it really does. M'not used to this. I've never dated anyone before. I don't know how this works."

The room seems to buzz with silence in the gaps of their speech, yet it isn't a silence either of them are needing to fill. If they say anything, they want it to be meaningful, not a useless string of words only said to lessen the tension hanging in the air. But, if she's honest with herself, there isn't any tension. Not anymore. All of it dissolved the second she saw him standing there with tree ornaments in his hands and hope in his eyes.

Her fingers card through his hair to brush it back from his face, taming the unbrushed curls that tickle her forehead the closer she nears to him, and his eyes flutter shut in appreciation of the gesture.

She says softly, but not weakly, "Well, I have, so believe me when I say I'm just as fucking lost as you are. I haven't felt this way about anyone before." Their lips are nearly touching. "But, I want it. Whatever you'll let me have of you, I want it."

Just as he juts his chin out to close the distance between their waiting lips, the feeling of her hand pushing flat against his chest halts him in his tracks.

"Wait."

His brows furrow in confusion.

"What's wrong?"

A smile lights up her face as she disentangles herself from him and stands from the couch with little explanation other than her saying, "I'll be right back," before scurrying off in the direction of the bedroom. He watches her disappear through the open doorway with a swing in her step that he hasn't seen since the night they spent together on the race track and waits eagerly for her return.

When she's out of sight, he finally lets out the sigh he's been holding in since she left early this morning for Alanis. She may not know it, but he spent every second of her absence making himself sick with worry over whether or not she'd forgive him for, well, everything. Yet, now that she's back, he realizes how stupid he was to think she'd leave him, and, for once in his life, he thinks he can see a light at the end of the tunnel. Should everything go well this weekend and Garrett manages to get them to safety with Ryan out of the way, they could have any life they want together. He could work on film sets somewhere across the world while she opens a bakery of her own and spends every day doing something she loves. They could have it all.

Her soft footfalls on the floor are what wakes him from his daydream of a future with her, and when he looks up to see her walking across the room to him, he grins.

"Y'didn't have to get me anything," he says only to be shushed by her.

The couch dips with her added weight sitting back down on the cushion beside him, and he relishes the warmth of her body as it presses against his without an inch of space left for them to cross. Her gift for him is wrapped in a box at least ten times the size of the one he used to give her the keys to the Cobra, and he raises his brows at her when she sets it down on his lap. It has a heavy weight to it.

In answer to his unspoken question, she says, "I—uh—I got it for you soon after you got me the tattoos." A deep breath, then, "I used the money I stole from you in October."

He goes as silent as death, and she takes it as the time she needs to explain herself after dropping the confession on him with little to no warning.

"I didn't do it on purpose, okay? It was a complete accident, and that doesn't make it any better, I know that, but I was afraid of you back then and didn't want you to think I took it to get back at you after you hijacked my car—"

"Hold on," he says, and she complies without protest. There's a pregnant pause, then—"Are y'talking about the money I put in your sweatshirt pocket the night we met?"

She nods. And, for some reason, this amuses him rather than upsets him. Seeing her nod, admitting that she stole from him after months of lying, makes him chuckle, shaking his head at her. One of his hands cups the side of her neck to keep her from hanging her head in shame to avoid meeting eyes with him.

"You silly girl," Harry whispers, "I did that on purpose."

This time, it's her turn to be shocked.

"What?"

This only makes him laugh harder at her, making her cheeks burn with embarrassment as she thinks back on everything that happened that night and realizes that she'd had it wrong. That night, when he interrogated her about why she was dealing drugs in Leo's territory, she told him she was doing it in an act of desperation. To make enough money to pay her rent. And when he shoved her driver's license and insurance papers back into the pocket of her hoodie, he slipped in all of the cash he had on him at the time for her to pay rent with. He knew her rent probably didn't cost six-thousand dollars a month, but it isn't like he had the chance to ask her how much she needed and count it out. He didn't want her to know he did it until she got home. When he assumed they'd never see each other again.

He unties the bow she wrapped around the large box and says, "I was giving you the money for rent. Y'didnt steal anything from me."

While she's too busy reeling from the shock of this news, Harry is ripping open his Christmas gift like a little kid does when sitting under the tree in their pajamas. It's endearing to see him so excited about something she's done for him when he typically has all the emotion of a brick wall in everyday circumstances. Although, she thinks he'd be excited about anything that involves her at this point, and knowing that pleases her more than he will ever know.

Under a blanket of tissue paper, he wraps his gift inside the box to find something he never anticipated getting from her. He mentioned his aspirations to make films once or twice at most and figured she wasn't even paying that close of attention, but she was. The interior of the box is packed with Styrofoam to keep the vintage Super 8 camera she bought him safe from any bumps or falls, and he doesn't know what to say when he sees it.

It's in beautiful condition based on his first glance at it, probably manufactured sometime in the mid-70s if he had to give it a good guess. It must have taken her a day or two to find a good store and cost her a few hundred dollars to get this, as well as the film and tools he needs to operate the old device as though it's brand new.

He looks up from the box to find her there, smiling at him, and doesn't hesitate to lean in to kiss her. It's short, way too short, but he must pull away from the small peck to speak. When he withdraws from her, she follows him with her eyes still closed, thinking he was going to come back to her with a passion that'd make that first kiss seem pitiful by comparison, only to find him watching her again.

When he doesn't say anything, she asks, "What?" and he shakes his head as if to dismiss any of the worries he knows are springing to life in the back of her mind.

"This is the most thoughtful gift anyone has gotten me," he says. That wall that fell into place between them after what he said last night crumbles at this moment, and she can tell that every word he speaks is genuine. "Thank you so much, baby. You totally beat my present for you."

To this, she laughs.

"You literally gifted me my dream car, Harry, which was so thoughtful considering my dad and everything. I'm gonna have to find a hundred vintage cameras to one-up you now!"

"No, absolutely not, I'm the one who spoils you here, not the other way around. M'gonna buy you as many cars as you buy me cameras, so we're gonna need a bigger car park pretty soon."

Y/N's face aches from how hard she's been smiling since she got home as she leans over to rest her head on his shoulder again. Of course, he has no qualms with this change in position and adapts straight away to throw his arm around her shoulders, pressing a kiss to the top of her head as an additional "Thank you" for the gift.

With her tucked under his arm, he uses his free hand to lift the camera from the box by the monopod and bring the viewfinder to his right eye. He doesn't waste the film she loaded it up with on random footage of the living room, but finally having a camera in his hands touches a place deep in his heart regardless of whether or not its rolling. And it suddenly hits him as he sits here and moves the camera to observe different parts of his living room that this is what he could've had for a decade. Her, a camera, and hope for the future rather than spending every minute wishing he could fall asleep and never wake up again.

"I was thinking since we're about to pick up everything and move to a new place this weekend, you could use a good camera to capture it. I was kind of hoping for New Zealand or Japan if Garrett is really gonna let us go wherever we want. They film a lot of movies in New Zealand, I heard," she says. "What about you?"

He takes a second to think it over, then says, "I'll follow you anywhere. Japan, New Zealand—it's your choice."

The threat of death on the horizon should they fail pushes him to a place of honesty he has never inhabited in her presence yet, but it feels strangely good. Every time he imagined allowing himself to say what he feels with her, he thought it'd feel wrong or terrifying, but it feels right. She feels right, and he couldn't be any happier than he is at this moment. He tries not to think about the fact that they could fail on Saturday, though. For once in his life, he wants to stay alive to experience how it feels to exist in peace with her, and, if he dies weeks after he finally began to enjoy living, he'd have to crawl his way out of hell to take his anger out on those who put him there. And if they killed her too...not even death could prevent him from seeking vengeance.

From where her face is nuzzled in his neck, her voice is partly muffled when she speaks next, but he hears it.

"I was also thinking...maybe the first thing you film could be us."

The thing is, Harry is notorious with her for having a dirty mind, so he doesn't want to assume that the first thing he thinks of is what she meant by that, but, then again, it is Y/N he's dealing with. She is just as filthy-minded, if not more, than he is when you truly get her going, and the way she said it leads him to think his assumption is true. This is the same woman who begged him to fuck her on a motorcycle in public, the same woman who got off on him calling a guy she rejected while they were fucking—she is many things, but she is not pure-minded.

He slowly lowers the camera back into the box and shifts a little in his spot to get a good look at her, knowing that one glance at her face will either confirm or deny his suspicion. And, just as he thought, when he tilts her head up from his shoulder to make her look at him, there's a mischievous smirk on her face.

"What?" she asks. "You really thought you weren't getting any more gifts?"

Soon enough, a smirk to match her own appear on his face.

"Y'wanna make a movie with me, Y/N?"

Before he can lift a finger to touch her or speak another word to order her to strip her clothes off, she jumps up from the couch and runs—actually runs—to the bedroom as if to ask, "Does this answer your question?" And he can't even make fun of her for her eagerness, because as soon as he sees her disappear behind the door, he is getting himself off of the couch with his new camera in hand and running after her. It's been a few days since they last had sex, so it isn't surprising to him in the least that he can feel himself getting hard at the mere suggestion of it. They were so busy doing Leo and Garrett's bidding that they didn't have a spare moment, or the energy, to do anything together, and he hasn't jerked off since they started living together, so...

On the way over, it takes a few fumbling seconds to find out how to turn the camera on and begin rolling, but he figures it out by the time he reaches the bedroom. The first shot he ever films is of her, laying on the bed with her legs curled up into a ball and her top already thrown across the room to reveal the expanse of her bare torso to him. When he zooms in, she waves at the camera with a radiant smile lighting up the frame, then beckons him to her with a plea for him to come to bed.

Harry approaches the edge of the bed slowly and watches her, making sure to move the camera to capture every one of her movements, as she crawls down to meet him at the end of it. When she looks up at the lens of the camera through her lashes, her cheeks turn hot and she averts her eyes. But he doesn't let her do it for any longer than a second. The hand not holding the camera grabs her by the chin and forced her to face it again.

"What?" he asks in a condescending tone that makes her press her thighs together. "Y'getting camera shy on me now, baby? I thought I found my leading lady."

Falling right into the scene he sets with those two sentences, she shakes her head with wide, pleading eyes staring right past the camera at his face. The angle he looks down at paired with her arms crossing over her chest accentuates the swell of her breasts for the camera. A purposeful tactic on her part, he assumes.

"No. No, I wanna be a big star, Mr. Styles. Put me in one of your movies." Her hands lift to settle on the waistband of his jeans, sliding into the middle to play absentmindedly with his belt buckle. "Please?"

One of her hands drifts lower until she can palm his half-hard cock through his pants to elicit a sharp breath from him. He lets her do it for as long as it takes to get him the rest of the way there, looking up at the camera like the good girl she always is—dying to please him at any cost. The hand still working his belt takes forever, but, finally, it comes undone for her after a solid minute of effort and allows her to then move on to the button and zipper of his jeans.

She leans forward off the edge of the bed and kisses the trail of sparse hair leading down from his belly button into the familiar territory concealed by his unzipped pants and underwear beneath, moaning when her cunt presses down against the heel of her foot during the change in position. He can sense that she's about to reach up and pull his clothes down his legs, but, before she can, he remembers something she said to him at the gun range. Before any of the heavy stuff came out, she joked about him holding her at gunpoint while they fucked, and seeing that his gun is tucked right there in the holster hidden in the waistband of his jeans, he doesn't see why he can't bring her fantasy to life.

Her eyes were closed as she kissed her way down the length of his stomach, so when she feels the barrel of a pistol digging into her temple, they shoot open in surprise. It makes her entire body go still until she peeks up at him and sees the look on his face. Without speaking, it tells her that she can call it all off. That if he took it too far and mistook a joke as a request the other week, she has every right to knee him in the balls and banish him to the couch tonight.

Much to his enjoyment, it ignites a sick pleasure between her thighs that he can sense by how she looks at him alone. He's become well-versed in the complexities of her expressions and mannerisms over the time they've spent together. He knows when she's angry with him, upset, happy, or, more appropriately for their current situation, aroused. Right now, she looks like she could eat him alive.

He says, "Go on," and presses the gun into her head with added pressure.

His jeans and underwear are practically torn down his legs seconds after he finishes ordering her around.

The contact of her warm palm wrapping around his cock once it's freed from the confines of his clothes tenses his abdomen muscles. It's heavy in her hand, hot to the touch, and it twitches with the caress of her fingers rubbing the sensitive underside where the tip connects to the rest of his length. She pushes up to stand taller on her knees and allows a string of spit to dribble out of her lips—still visible for the camera, of course—onto it for lubrication as she jerks him off with her head tilted to look up at him.

Once she's sure he got the shot she envisioned in her head, she then sinks back down into her previous position and takes him into her mouth. He's given no chance to prepare himself for it, so when he feels the wet heat of her mouth suctioned around his cock, he can't help how he moans in response to it. Her hand pumps what she can't take all the way into her throat as she pushes her head down as far as she can without gagging, trying to do it exactly how he likes.

"Fuck," he groans, head tipping back to the ceiling, "That's it, baby."

The vibration of her humming with her mouth encasing his cock has him fighting the urge to jerk his hips forward to thrust deeper into her throat. His free hand reaches down and wraps itself in her hair, bringing it away from her face and using it to guide the steady pace of her head bobbing up and down.

There's something particularly thrilling to her about being allowed to do this to him. She likes the idea of being the only person on this earth allowed to touch him, allowed to render him weak from her touch and leave him at her mercy. It helps her understand why he enjoys the power he has over her. It can be intoxicating, in a way, to look at a person and know they would do anything should you request it for nothing in return.

Her other hand comes up to cup his balls, massaging them in her palm and delighting in the reaction of his hips jerking forward to press himself deeper into her mouth. She allows her jaw to go slack at this, relaxing her throat, and glances up at him with a pointed look that tells him exactly what she wants him to do.

The hand he has wrapped up in her hair remains there, gripping the back of her head for leverage as he starts to thrust in and out of her open mouth with little care for how the camera begins to jostle with his sudden movements. It feels far too good to care about whether or not he's getting it on film right now. Every time he feels her throat constrict around the head of his cock, he has to actively fight the urge to come. He typically has the stamina to keep going for a while, but the eroticism of the situation with him filming it and her letting him fuck her mouth pushes everything to a degree of intensity he can't escape from.

They've only done this once before, so the novelty of it has yet to wear off this time around. Every time he pulls away until he's almost slipping out of her mouth, the end of her tongue flicks against his tip in a teasing motion that beckons him back into the tight heat of her mouth.

"Good girl," he murmurs in praise, cut off at the end by his own breathy moan when she swallows around him.

It isn't until he presses a little too deep on the upstroke of one of the thrusts, causing her to gag and take in a sharp breath through her nose, that he uses the hand in her hair to pull her off of him. Her lips are smeared with spit, a string of it connecting from them to the leaking tip of his cock until it breaks and falls onto her breasts, and her hair is a downright mess from the grip he had on it. She gulps down air desperately as she looks up at him, her brows furrowing as if to ask why he stopped.

When he takes too long to answer while staring down at her, she asks him, "What?"

"Take the rest of your clothes off."

He takes a step back with the camera lifting to get a better shot of her and tries to ignore the throbbing of his cock that urges him to bend her over the edge of the bed in order to push him over the edge he's so dangerously close to. The leggings she wore to sleep last night aren't accompanied by any of the skimpy undergarments he's gifted her, so when she dips her fingers under the band and starts to shimmy them down her legs, he's met with the sight of her bare cunt sooner than he expected.

Being the little temptress she is, she takes it slow for the camera. She truly puts on a good show for both him in the present and the future version of him that'll no doubt rewatch it. From where he stands, he can see how wet she is. It glistens on her pussy and inner thighs in the light shining down from the ceiling, and though he wants to get a taste of her, the need to be inside of her already outweighs it greatly. Three days without fucking is far too long for him to resist it now.

He passes the camera off to her, allowing Y/N to scoot back up the bed enough to keep her feet from dangling off as she raises the viewfinder to her eye to capture him tugging his shirt off. Shamelessly, she zooms in on his chest and pans the camera down from the birds on either side of his crucifix necklace, past the butterfly, and to the ferns that decorate his hips before zooming back out to capture him in his entirety.

The bed creaks beneath his shifting weight as he kneels on the edge, crawling over her body until he's settling between her eagerly spread thighs. The gun is set down on the empty space of mattress beside her. She makes sure to point the camera lens down the small gap left between their bodies the best she can to capture everything he does, but it gets increasingly more difficult when he guides his length forward to rub between her folds and soak it with her arousal. The contact of it sitting heavy against her clit has her rocking her hips up against him in a silent urging to hurry up.

He doesn't, though.

He takes his time inflicting this torture, grinding against her and leaving the hand that holds the camera up shaky from the stimulation that is simultaneously too much and not enough. This goes on for as long as he can stand it for the sake of getting her as needy for him as possible. He shuts his eyes and thinks of the least sexy things he can conjure—you know, a cold shower, his grandparents, and so on—to keep himself from getting too excited too fast. If he blows his load the second he pushes into her, he'll probably have to hide his face into one of the pillows to shield himself from the embarrassment.

"Please," she breathes out and rolls her hips up into his to guide his tip closer to her entrance, "Wanna feel full, daddy."

"No," he says.

This halts everything. The movement of her hips, the hand she had rubbing up and down the length of his arm, and the additional pleading words that'd been on the top of her tongue. Right before she can ask him if he wants to stop, he leans down and claims her mouth with his own. It's a deep, surging fire of a kiss. It whisks away any of the thoughts floating around in that head of hers as he uses the distraction to line himself up with her dripping hole and presses the tip inside.

His voice is soft and sweet when he says into her parted lips, "Use my name"—his tongue licks into her mouth playfully—"Say my name and I'll fuck you."

And, of course, it isn't even a full second that passes by the time she's whispering, "Harry, please," into the messy kiss they share.

The stretch of him pushing into her after a few days without intimacy of any kind has her biting down hard on her lip to stifle the whimper that rises out of her from the strange blend of pleasure and pain it elicits. He isn't above average in the way that men are portrayed in porn, but she can't deny that his cock is the biggest she's ever taken. The first time they had sex in Leo's parking garage, he had been behind her, so it wasn't until he entered her and began pounding away with little care for whether or not she needed time to adjust that she realized it.

She loves it. There's nobody else that could compare, which isn't solely to do with his size but rather what he does with it. If she were to tell him the things she thinks when he first thrusts into her every time, his ego would likely inflate to a size ten times the one it typically is. And, when it comes to sex, his ego doesn't need any more stroking than it has gotten already.

The initial pace he sets is not as brutal as it was their first time.

He fucks into her in deep, slow strokes that leave him lingering inside her, aligning their bodies so he rubs against her clit every time he slides in to the hilt. If anything, it's a less hurried recreation of the time they fucked on the motorcycle at the race track. Unlike that time, they have time and privacy to do whatever they'd like for however long they'd like to do it, so he takes his time and tries to savor it with her. Though she may like getting it rough and fast most of the time, neither of them is opposed to something as loving and tender as this.

Softly, she asks, "Can I take these off?" and reaches for one of the hands he has braced on either side of her waist against the mattress. More specifically, she reaches for the gloves he still wears while every other article of clothing has been shed from his body and tossed to the floor. "I wanna feel you touching me. I'll keep them out of view of the camera. I promise."

There's a moment in which the practiced cadence of his thrusts falters in reaction to the question, and it takes a few seconds to make up his mind. She can feel him tensing up on top of her as he becomes aware of his scarred hand again after being buried beneath the blissful haze of pleasure and glances down at where it presses flat against the bed.

I trust her, he reminds himself. I trust her. I trust her. I trust her. I trust her—

He brings his scarred hand up to his face first and bites the end of the glove on his middle finger to tug it off. The camera is immediately turned to the side before it comes all the way off, facing the windows that display the skyline of the city under the dark night sky, to give him the privacy she promised as he lays himself fully bare before her. It isn't the first time, technically, but it is the first time she's asked him to do it. Every other time, he did it of his own choice and made certain to keep it from her line of sight as much as possible, but, tonight, he lets her watch as he pulls both of them off and tosses them in the direction of their other clothes.

During this, he hasn't stopped the slow undulations of his hips that press his cock deep into her, consistently rubbing a sensitive spot inside that draws a series of quiet moans from her open mouth as she pants for breath. What she does next, however, makes him stop for the short second it takes his brain to process what he sees.

She takes the burnt hand that cups her breast and brings it up to her face, setting the camera on the bed to wrap it in both of hers until it's closed into a loose fist. The sensation of her soft, unmarred skin against the ridges and scars covering every inch of his larger hand satisfies something in him that he hadn't known existed, but she isn't done. If he thought he liked the contrast of her skin touching his, the feeling of her lips pressing kisses onto the heel of his hand and curled-up fingers might as well be heaven-sent.

"I love you," she whispers with her eyes fluttering shut to avoid the rejection she assumes is displayed on his face the second she says it. She tries not to cry as she holds his hand to her face, Harry already having gone still inside of her, but there's little she can do to fight it. "You don't have to say it back, but I'm just so tired of not being able to tell you."

There is no part of her that expects him to say the words back. The first time she felt the urge to say them was the day he came back home and apologized to her for leaving by letting her shave off his beard. It was something about the way he looked at her, and she knew at that moment, as he watched her while she pretended not to pay attention, that she was a goner. Truth be told, she had been falling for him long before that. She may have even been in love with him from that first night in the parking garage and hadn't known it until she'd been sitting on his lap to shave his beard for him. Perhaps that was what made her so enraged with him—how desperately she wanted him underneath it all.

Harry mutters, "Open your eyes."

He knows the power he holds over her, so when he tells her to do this, he has no doubt that she will listen to him, especially in the delicate situation they're in currently. Sex has a way of making her more pliant than she is otherwise. Outside of it, there is no doubt that they hold the power in equal amounts between them in their relationship, but during it, she surrenders herself to him in a way she never does elsewhere.

When her eyes open to find him laying atop her body, their chest fitting to one another's with every rise and fall of their breaths, she doesn't find him scowling or withdrawing from her in discomfort. Instead, she finds him looking at her the way he had that day she shaved his beard for him. Those green eyes are softened to a degree they never do unless it's her they're focused on. He has nothing but fondness for her, even after what she just confessed.

"I feel," he says, pausing as though trying to get the words out is harder than anything he's ever done before, "so much for you...I can't—I can't say that yet, but that doesn't mean I don't feel similarly." He pulls his burnt hand out of her grasp to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear while he looks down at her. "I've always been yours."

This stuns her to silence.

Never in her life did she think she'd receive something like that from him—not refusal, rejection, or cruelty, but honesty and validation. Hell froze over, basically, and she couldn't be happier about it.

She says, "Then let me treat you like you belong to me."

Y/N guides him to roll over onto his back, careful as he pulls out of her to shift their position in order for her to straddle his lap. Her legs sit on either side of his hips, and she rises up on her knees just enough to allow him to guide his cock back inside of her. As soon as she sinks down onto him, they're both moaning out into the empty apartment with their hands clinging onto one another for support. Hers brace themselves on his pecs, fingers splayed over his swallow tattoos, and she uses this to keep herself steady as she begins to rock her hips back and forth on him. In this position, she can feel him even deeper than she did seconds ago.

He reaches for the camera that has been laying on its side on the mattress for the past two minutes and brings it back up to his face to capture his point of view. Her hair falls around her face as she drops her head down to meet his gaze, and he can't tear his eyes away from her for any longer than a second before he feels the need to find her again. With every thrust, she rides him harder. Fully in control, she sets the pace and depth she enjoys most and lets him come along for the ride with her, his hand holding onto her hip so hard that he runs the risk of bruising her.

"Harry," she whines, her eyes shining with tears, "Fuck—I love you."

The hand squeezing her hips guide her through the motions as she begins to get too immersed in the pleasure to keep it up. Her breasts bounce with the jolting motions of their bodies colliding, the wet sound of their rutting invading the room and accompanying the symphony of moans and sighs that otherwise fill the silence. It takes everything he has to keep himself from coming pathetically early from the sight and sound of her being split open on his cock. He had already noticed how close he was getting when she let him fuck her mouth, but now he's barely hanging on.

He has to close his eyes, knowing that if he keeps looking up at her while they do this, he'll finish in a matter of seconds and leave her unsatisfied. This has never happened to him before. In all the times he hooked up with random people over the years, treating sex more like a chore to release his volatile emotions than anything else, he never felt as though he was going to come less than a minute in. If anything, he took pride in the fact that he had stamina in bed, but he's beginning to realize now that it had little to do with his ability and everything to do with how he was treating the actual act of having sex with someone. They were physically attractive to him, yes, but they weren't her. And they certainly weren't crying out his name and telling him they loved him the way she is right now.

"Hey," she whispers, "what's wrong?"

The rapid pace she set begins to slow with her growing concern for him, but he doesn't let her. He uses the hand he has on her hip to keep her moving on his cock, shaking his head to dispel her worry as he tries to string together a sentence amidst the euphoria.

His eyes remain clamped shut when he mutters, "M'gonna come too fast if I look at you."

To this, she squeezes around him as tightly as she can as if to egg him on, invigorated by the thrill of knowing what she does to him and using it to bounce her hips on him like her life depends on it. She even exaggerates the sound of her soft moans for the sake of pushing him closer to the edge, and if he weren't so close to his orgasm, he'd probably laugh and call her out for being such a tease. At this point, he doesn't care about the camera capturing any of it. It ends up falling to the bed next to their bodies as he throws his head back against the mattress and tries to pull himself back from the brink of climax.

Then, he feels the hard steel of the pistol he left on the bed pressing into the side of his head.

"Go on," she says, and he can hear the smirk in her voice, "I want you to."

When he opens his eyes to take in the sight of her on top of him, there's no turning back. From the delicate curves of her hips leading up to her waist to the look in her eyes as she stares him down with his own gun pressed to his temple, this visual of her at the moment is nothing short of pornographic. Everything about it overstimulates him—watching her, hearing her breathy moans, and feeling her cunt squeezing around him as if she's trying to milk every drop of cum from his thick cock.

His brows scrunch up as he teeters on the edge, begging her, "Say it again. Please," he starts to thrust up to meet her movements, holding her still by her hip to allow him to pound into her with all of his strength, "Tell me."

Without even having to ask for clarity, she knows that what he wants to hear isn't the last thing she said. It's the confession that she's kept from spewing for weeks, and knowing that hearing her say it pushes him closer brings a tired smile to her kiss-swollen lips. She tosses the loaded gun aside and it clatters along the floor, sliding until it hits the far-off wall, then leans down to kiss him. Her lips taste of the flavored gloss she borrowed from Alanis this afternoon, and he slides his arms around her waist to tug her closer, chasing his release with little care for anything other than the woman before him.

He bites down on her lower lip in punishment when she takes too long to give him what he asked.

"Say it," Harry demands.

​​She gasps at the brutality of his thrusts and falls into his chest with no strength left to keep herself held up, whining every time he buries himself inside her hard enough that she knows she'll be sore tomorrow. The gun slips out of her hand and onto the sheets beside the forgotten camera she gifted him.

She cries out, "I love you, I love you—"

Her emphatic declarations of love are cut short by Harry kissing her, using her gasps for air as his chance to lick into her mouth with his tongue as he gives himself to the pleasure that has been begging to consume him since they began.

It's unlike anything he's experienced before. He never thought that sex could feel like this until he met her, and, more specifically, until he realizes what it felt like to do it with someone who loves you. With each spurt of his release, he feels like his life force is being drained out of him and given to her—it feels as if his soul belongs to her now. The arms wrapped around her are squeezing with enough force to limit her breathing, and he doesn't dream of letting her go. Not yet. He holds her as close to him as possible while he rides out the blissful rush of endorphins pumping through his body as his thrusts slow to a lazy grinding of his hips into hers.

She dips her head down to kiss his neck in the aftermath, giving him the space he needs to catch his breath now that he's on the comedown. His chest rises and falls at a rapid rate beneath hers, but it isn't a steady one. It jerks and stutters in a way she's only felt or seen when the person she's holding is crying, and it makes her come back up from the warm curve of his neck to check on him.

Those long lashes are wet with the tears he attempts to blink away. He is crying, but she doesn't feel alarmed by it. It's obvious to her that it isn't the type of crying bred from sorrow or regret, it's the type of crying bred from happiness. From love. They're the same kind of tears that she shed moments ago when she confessed her feelings for him.

As soon as he catches her watching him, though, he stops. Not because he isn't comfortable with her crying but, instead, because it occurs to him for the first time since coming back from the intense pleasure of his orgasm that she didn't come. And that simply won't do.

Harry pecks her once on the mouth before using the arms still encasing her waist to flip them over. With his considerable strength, it's a smooth transition that is over as soon as it begins, and she hardly has the chance to laugh before her back hits the mattress. He's already descending the length of her body by the time she lifts her head to look at him. His hands push her legs apart with little formality, exposing her sodden cunt to him.

"You don't have to—"

She can't even finish the sentence before his face is buried between her thighs, his tongue spreading her open and feasting on her unashamedly. He could tell that she was getting close by the time he came, so he didn't want to waste any time and risk her losing it.

It's hard for her to hold her head up off of the bed to look down at him, but she holds out for as long as she can because seeing him looking up at her with his tongue lapping up his own cum that drips from her is undoing in and of itself. Knowing he close she was before, once he's swallowed all of the release that was dripping from her hole, he moves his attention up to her clit. The difference is immediately noticeable in how she tenses up in his hold and starts to grind her pussy against his face in a desperate plea for more, more, more.

Although his cheeks are burning scarlet from coming prematurely, it is all forgotten in her mind and replaced by the budding pleasure building in the pit of her tummy. His lips close around her clit and suck hard, his tongue flicking against it repeatedly, and she can't help but throw her head back against the mattress in ecstasy. It has her breath turning from a steady, deep rhythm to heavy pants that are never enough. From his place down low, he watches her back arch and exaggerate the size of her breasts as they fall up and down with the dramatic breaths she takes.

He parts from her for only a second to murmur in between kisses placed on her sticky inner thighs, "Could stay here all night, baby, y'taste so fucking good."

The arms he has wrapped around her thighs rug her closer to his face, and he begins to lose himself in it now. Whenever she sneaks a glance down at him, his eyes are closed and the movements of his tongue and lips on her clit are executed with a practiced perfection. God, she cannot believe that she has him all to herself. Now that she knows he's with her for the long haul, she finds it difficult to wrap her head around the fact that she is the only one who gets to experience this with him. Plenty of women and men take lingering looks at him whenever they're out in public, but his eyes never stray from her. Hers is the only body he will kneel before to worship like a devout believer praying at an altar before the Almighty.

She babbles incoherently as he lifts her hips up from the bed and eats her like a man starved, licking and sucking at her puffy clit like he'll never get the chance to do it again. He's in a trance at this point. Even when she whines his name and reaches down to grab a handful of his hair to tug on, he doesn't react or look up at her, he just continues his relentless assault on her sensitive cunt until she starts to feel the familiar sensation of an orgasm stirring inside of her.

Having been warmed up for it by him fucking her, it doesn't take much to get her back to where she'd been before he came. She was already easy to rile when they were strangers to each other's bodies, but now that he knows her better than he's ever known a partner before, he could get the job done in less than two minutes if he wants to. And, he thinks that just might happen tonight if the way she's saying his name and clawing at his shoulders has anything to say about it.

"Harry!" she sobs, "M'gonna come—fuck—right there!"

One more flick of his tongue against her clit as his lips suck hard around it and she is sent careening over the edge into oblivion with nothing to tether her to reality except for him. She digs her nails into his shoulders as she jerks and tenses with every pulsating wave of her climax. It robs her of her breath, leaving her with nothing to do but writhe throughout it all and leave her mouth fallen open to sing her praises to him with what little breath she manages to take in. It's the type of orgasm that wipes the slate clean and empties her mind of every worry it held onto prior to this. The hit on Saturday, Alanis leaving the country, either of them being hurt on the next job—none of it can reach her.

When the final peak of it drops her back off into her body, he remains between her thighs, ever the diligent lover, to help her through the aftershocks before she becomes too sensitive to handle his touch for a bit. It isn't until she pulls on his hair, mumbling a soft, "Too much," at him while she jerks her hips away, that he pulls away. The back of his hand wipes his mouth and chin to clean it of the mixture of his cum and her slick arousal.

With the absence of their moans and the sounds of their bodies converging, the room rings with silence as he crawls back up the length of her body and collapses onto her chest with a tired sigh. She accepts him with open arms, her mind too muddled from her climax to even realize that this is the first time he's cuddled with her. His body is a furnace atop hers, and she savors every second of the warmth seeping into her body, the thin layers of sweat coating them blending at each place they connect.

It takes a long time for either of them to say anything.

Harry lays with his head cradled against her heaving chest, eyes closed, and takes it all in. Every word, every touch, every kiss—he rewinds the events of the night and relives them until he has them memorized inside and out. The burnt hand slides up the side of her waist until it finds one of the hands resting on his shoulders, removing it for the sake of entwining their fingers together.

Meanwhile, Y/N lies beneath him in utter shock.

Tonight went in the opposite of every direction she assumed it would. The aforementioned shock doesn't mean she is displeased by the turn of events, not in the slightest, but she can't say that their previous track record indicated any of this going as smoothly as it has.

"Can I tell y'something?"

His voice is the first to break the silence.

A lazy smile appears on her face as she cranes her neck to allow herself to meet his gaze. His head is tilted back, her breast a soft cushion beneath it, and his heavy-lidded eyes never stray from her face.

"Anything," she says.

There's a pause, then—

"I stole your knives."

She sits up as much as their current position will allow with her eyebrows shooting up in surprise. Her upper body is supported on her elbows when she sits up, disrupting his comfortable spot on her chest in favor of checking his face for any sign of dishonesty or playful teasing. There is only honesty found in his unflinching stare.

"What?"

He sighs, pushing himself up so that he's no longer bearing all of his weight on her body and, instead, braces most of it on his arms while he lays between her legs.

"After I brought you home from Leo's place," he clarifies, "when y'were too distracted with Alanis and Zayn to notice, I stole them."

"Why?"

In her heart, she already knows the answer to that question, but she must ask. For the sake of the heart that aches for him at the mere thought of his possible reasoning for doing such a thing, she must ask.

He says softly, "I didn't want you to hurt yourself again."

That statement alone could be replayed and analyzed in the back of her mind until the end of time. How could he claim he never cared when they fought last night if everything else he says when they talk contradicts it? First, it was him sparing her life, then giving her rent money, then saving her from being tortured and murdered at Leo's hand, and countless other actions no terrible man would bother going through with. If he's a monster, then why was he the only one to see her drowning and extend a hand to pull her from the rough current?

"You know what I think?" she asks.

He doesn't dare respond with anything other than a glance. Should this go south in the way he's assuming it will—because, let's be honest, it always goes south eventually when it comes to him—he doesn't want to say anything more to ruin it than he already has. She's probably preparing to scold him for assuming she couldn't handle her urges on her own, for assuming she needed to be looked after like a child—

"I think you're a good man, Harry."

Everything stops at that.

The thoughts racing around in his head, his heart hammering against his ribcage in his chest, and every other part of him that has been on alert to assess the next threat for the past decade—it all stops, and, for the first time since he was dragged into this abhorrent world of murder and heartache, he can breathe.

No one has ever said that to him. Growing up, it was because it was a given. He was a sweet boy, a mama's boy, and the few times he got in trouble were due to misunderstandings and typical childhood mood swings. So, no one felt the need to point it out. But, after he began "working" for Leo, everyone pointed out the opposite. Everyone called him a monster, not that he ever disagreed, and he welcomed it. The more people who feared him, who loathed him, the better. The distance would protect him. Everyone he's met in the last ten years has come to the same consensus that he is a terrible man worthy of nothing. Until her.

"You're just a good man who's been forced to become someone he's not," she whispers, "and I'm sorry it took me so long to realize that, but I do now." Her hand reaches down to brush the hair hanging in his eyes out of his face as she looks at him with a softened gaze. Tears flood her eyes once more, and she wishes she could get through it without becoming overwhelmed with emotion, but she can't. Her voice even trembles when she says, "And I love you so much."

He cannot do anything but stare at her with every word he wants to say stuck in the back of his throat, barred from coming out until he processes what she said and allows the full emotion of it to rush through him. And even though he can't say it back yet, hearing it from her over and over tonight has reached a place in his threat he thought was long since dead.

His mouth opens to speak, but he's cut off.

The sound of his phone ringing where he left it in the living room cuts through the blissful haze created by the night they've spent together, and she can instantly feel him tensing up on top of her. His eyes shut, and it's almost as if he pretends that if he stays as still as possible, nothing will have to change. But, of course, they have a harsh reality to face whenever either of their phones ring, so he has no choice but to part with her to answer it.

"Stay here, baby," he murmurs, then pushes himself off of her and stalks off toward the living room in pursuit of his phone.

Unlike the night at the race track, Harry doesn't keep a distance between them once he picks up the call. He actually comes back into the room and sits at the end of the bed as he hits the button to answer it. She doesn't invade his privacy by crawling up from behind and wrapping her arms around him as she wishes to, but she does watch him throughout for any signs of it being Leo or Garrett calling them to action.

She can't hear what the person on the other end of the line is saying, but with the way his brows raise and his eyes widen, she assumes the worst. She assumes that Garrett is calling to tell them that they have to get in the car and drive to the place where the hit will take place as soon as possible.

Harry nods his head along to whatever the person is saying, even glancing over his shoulder at her once or twice. But, much to her surprise, he doesn't hide his true feeling from her by schooling his face into the typical mask of neutrality.

“Can I bring someone with me?” he asks, then spins a little white lie in order to convince them to let him bring her along. “I know it’s supposed to be family only, but I just got married yesterday. I’d like my wife to come along.”

Her heart begins to pound at the thought of the title he just placed on her. Even if it’s not the truth.

A second later, he says, "Good. We'll be there tonight."

-

The whole car ride over, which ended up being a little over an hour, he briefed her on where they were going and why they were going there. As soon as the call dropped, he was quick to reassure her that it wasn't Leo or Garrett calling upon them for their services. She watched in confusion as he stood up from the bed and began getting dressed, digging through the dresser drawers for a clean set of casual clothes as he told her to do the same.

It wasn't until she stood from the bed and began dressing beside him, slipping on a loose pair of jeans and one of his vintage band tees, that he offered any form of an explanation for the interruption. Apparently, it was the same place or person that called him the night on the race track when he had a "family emergency", the only difference this time being that she was allowed to peek behind the curtain and know what was going on.

Harry stuffed his gun back into the holster he switched from his dirty pants to his new ones, saying to her as he searched the room for his backpack, "My mother's in a nursing home. Whenever they call, I go. M'sorry to cut our Christmas short, but they called with good news. I'll explain it all in the car. C'mon."

With that, he grabbed her arm by the wrist and pulled her along to follow him. They made it all the way out of the apartment, into the elevator, and to the top level of the garage where he always kept his cars parked before he proceeded with his promised explanation. It was all a bit jarring, honestly. To receive such pivotal information in a matter of seconds, all while her head was still reeling from the night they shared, dizzied her.

They were about ten minutes into the ride when he spoke again.

"She has Alzheimer's," he said, cutting her a sorrowful look before looking back at the road. "When I was eighteen, she needed to be put into full-time care. S'why I had to borrow so much money from Leo, I couldn't afford any of it at the time. I mean, what eighteen-year-old living in the states can?" The music playing from the phone he plugged into the aux cord filled the gaps in speech as she stared at him with watering eyes. "Anyway, they called and said she had a fall last month. Broke her hip and needed surgery, that's why I left so fast. But, this time, it's good. The nurse said she's been lucid for hours. It never usually happens for any longer than thirty minutes with her, so by the time I get there, she doesn't even know who I am."

That's what led her here, standing hand in hand with him in the lobby of the nursing home with her head spinning from the overload of information dumped on her.

That was what Leo had to keep him in it, wasn't it? It didn't make sense to her why he stayed if he was so close to killing himself as a way out at one point, but, now, everything clicks. If he killed himself, his mother would be left with no one to pay for her care, and if he left...It's the same situation she faced with Alanis. It's Leo's best tactic at getting people to obey him—find out who they love and keep them under the threat of death or torture at all times should the person working under him step out of line.

From what she knows of Alzheimer's and Dementia patients, terminal lucidity is often a sign of death waiting right around the corner, but she doesn't dare to say that to him. How could she ruin this ray of sunshine that has found its way into his life after years of perpetual night?

He squeezes her hand hard in his, tapping his foot against the tiled floor to the anxious beat of his heart, and keeps searching down the long hallway for the nurse that said she'd go and ask her if she wanted to see her visitors.

"It's been, like, seven years since she remembered me," he says with a smile growing on his face. "Do y'think she'll remember me now?"

Y/N rests her chin on his shoulder and looks up at him with a smile to match his own.

"If they're saying she's lucid, I don't see why she wouldn't."

It's difficult for her to enjoy the happiness emanating from him. All she can think of is how young he was when it all began and how terrified he must've been. He told her on the car ride over that his dad never spoke to them again once she got the diagnosis, leaving him to handle everything in his absence, and it made her heart snap in two. He was just a boy. He's never had the chance to truly live as an adult, every second has been consumed by the debt, Leo, and murdering people against his will, and it enrages her. If the promise of his imminent downfall weren't already planned out, she'd likely steal his gun and hunt their boss down herself for stealing his life away.

He saw a sweet young boy in need of help, desperate to latch onto any older man he could out of a need for a father figure to replace the one that abandoned him, and chose to destroy him rather than lend a hand. So, while Harry smiles and waits in excitement for the nurse to bring them to his mother, she's trying not to cry for what feels like the hundredth time tonight.

The sound of a woman's gentle voice breaks her from her trance.

"Mr. Styles?" she asks, then turns her gaze to her. "Mrs. Styles?"

The ring sitting on her left hand is an old one he dug out of the jewelry stand in the bathroom. It isn't what most people would view as a traditional wedding ring, but it was the only one he had that fit her ring finger, so it would have to work. If anyone questioned him, he'd happily tell them fuck right off. The nurse's unbreaking stare makes her realize she forgot to take off the sunglasses he gave her, and she reaches up to snatch them off of her face.

It was dark outside, but she put them on on the off chance that she'd cry more tonight and need to hide her puffy red eyes from any curious passerby. And, considering the fact that she was two seconds from shedding tears from merely thinking of what he's gone through, that wasn't an unrealistic worry to have.

"Yes?" Harry responds.

The badge clipped to the front of her pink scrub shirt reads, "Kaitlyn," and she smiles so widely, her eyes crinkle at the sides from behind the thick lenses of eyeglasses.

"Come with me."

It takes a decent minute or so to get from the lobby to the open door to his mother's assigned room. The nurse had to use her badge to swipe them into the patient's side of the of building, explaining away about their safety precautions to protect the inhabitants as both of them ignored her in favor of their own thoughts. Down another long hallway of rooms, to the left, and there it is. Her name is written on a dry-erase board hanging from the front of the door.

Elise.

What a lovely name, she thinks to herself.

Kaitlyn comes to a stop outside of the threshold and offers them a bright smile as a parting gift, saying, "She's waiting for you. She just took her sleeping meds, so she'll probably be out pretty soon, but you've got thirty minutes before visiting is done, so enjoy."

Harry walks in ahead of her with his gloved hand still holding on tight, arm extending behind to guide her in after him as he hurries into the room with an excitement that cannot be contained within it. The first thing she sees are walls covered from top to bottom with artwork. Paintings, drawings, sketches, and more framed forms of art that cover the beige walls and enliven them with color. It makes sense now that she sees how his mother chose to decorate her room why Harry has such an artistic, romantic soul.

And when she turns her attention over to the woman sitting up in a reclining chair, even deteriorating with age and sickness, Harry's good looks make even more sense to her. Long hair the same shade as his, following the same loose curl pattern, is streaked with grays and braided in two sides.

"Mum," he says as a way of greeting.

Their smiles are exactly the same, she soon realizes. Dimples form on either side of her lips as they pull away from her teeth in a grin, and her two front teeth are a tad bit longer than the others beside them. Just like his.

She holds out her hands in an invitation for him to come closer.

"My baby boy," Elise says softly.

Neither of them is sure how lucid she is, whether or not she knows he's not still an eighteen-year-old kid or younger even, but he got what he wished for the past seven years. His mother remembers who he is. For once in his adult life, he doesn't come to visit her only to be met with confusion and violent outbursts. The last time he came here, she was so high off of the pills they gave her in her recovery from hip surgery that when she woke up to see him sitting at her bedside in the middle of the night, she began screaming and throwing every nearest object she could reach at the "intruder"

The two of them share a lingering embrace, and Y/N doesn't do much other than take in the small room, picking at the sleeve of the shirt she stole from him to keep her hands occupied.

When they pull apart, Elise's eyes land on her and narrow. They scan up and down, almost analytically, until she seems to get a general grip on who the woman standing in front of her is. She inevitably comes to the conclusion that she is a stranger to her but not to her dear son.

"This is my girlfriend," Harry says. He stares at her with affection shining through in his eyes and reaches out his hand to beckon her closer. "Her name is Y/N. We were just exchanging our Christmas gifts"—a subtle wink direction at her while he brings her over to the same side of the recliner chair he stands on—"when Kaitlyn called me."

There's a moment of silence.

"Are those mine?"

Y/n follows the path of Elise's finger pointing to the center of her chest and finds that the sunglasses Harry gifted her last month are the subject of interest.

He squeezes her hand a few times in his before letting it go to kneel beside his mother.

"They are," he says quietly, which is news to Y/N. "You told me when I was twenty to give them to the woman I want to marry...I think she's the one, Mum. You'll love her once you two get talking for a bit."

Elise watches her for a couple more seconds before settling her attention back on her son and nodding in acceptance of his choice. It must be overwhelming—meeting your grown son and his girlfriend for the first time after years of not knowing who you are or where you live except for short moments of clarity that never last more than thirty minutes. The last time she was fully lucid in his presence, he was on the cusp of adolescence and adulthood. His hair was overgrown, shaggy and wild with the same curls growing from her head, and his eyes were brighter back then. It was before Leo had broken him.

When she looks around the room, Y/N notices framed pictures on her bedside table and ones that hang on the walls between art pieces carefully chosen from her large collection locked away in a storage unit he pays for monthly. It isn't so bad, but when she pays attention, it saddens her. The carpet is stained in places, whether it be with blood or urine, there's no way to tell, but the smell is suffocating. Clearly, she's had many accidents relating to incontinence, and the staff must not properly clean the rug enough to keep the stench from permeating through the air of the closed area.

It starts to get so bad to her over the next minute, she feels the need to hold her breath, and she can't stand it for another second before she has to excuse herself.

"Um, I'm gonna go to the ladies' room," she says with a forced smile, then shoots him a look that tells him not to worry about her. "Be right back."

Neither of them puts up a fight when she turns to walk out of the room, they're far too distracted with each other to notice the undercurrent of tension that lives within her at the moment. The sense of sickness persists the entire way down the hall until she passes through the double doors Kaitlyn had to swipe her badge to get them through. She isn't concerned with getting back to Elise's room at the moment, though. Her main concern is whether or not she can stifle the sickness rising in her throat.

Thankfully for her, the strong scent is evaporated once she reaches the bathrooms stationed at the front lobby and replaced with the overpowering disinfectant used to wipe down the mirrors, sinks, toilets, and floors. It's unpleasant but not nearly as bad as she found the scent of urine in the hall of patient rooms.

Y/N comes to a halt in front of one of the mirrors, bracing her hands against the sink, and takes deep breaths in and out of her mouth until she feels stable enough in her ability to keep her food down. The relief of knowing she won't have to throw up releases the tension that built in her shoulders and neck, allowing her to sigh a heavy breath of relief and turn away from the sink now that she knows she won't be sick.

Her head hangs low as she turns to lean against the porcelain, her fingers gripping it hard enough to turn her knuckles white, and tries to calm herself amidst all that has happened today. From beginning to end, it took her for enough twists and turns to give her whiplash.

Hopefully, she won't feel sick again when she goes back in there, but she doesn't have any other choice. It's his mother. His mother he avoided mentioning to her like the plague and didn't trust her knowing was alive until tonight. The fact that he brought her here to meet her while she's lucid is an honor she could never thank him enough for bestowing upon her. Not to mention, the sunglasses, him calling her his girlfriend, and the lie he told to the nurses about her being his new wife.

A subdued little smirk finds its way to her face as she lifts her head up and turns to make her way back to the patient rooms, but something hanging on the wall catches her eye.

It's a dispenser for feminine hygiene products.

And that is all it takes for her to be stopped in her tracks. She typically gets prone to nausea in the days before her period, but not without the presence of dull cramps that don't require any more than a dose of over-the-counter pain medication. This nausea she has can't be her period, not if she doesn't have any other symptoms or even a little spotting in her panties.

The longer she looks at the dispenser, the more it dawns on her what might be happening to her.

She didn't get her period in November, did she? It's most often toward the end of the month, so she didn't worry about it, but with everything that's been going on, she got so distracted that she—

Her hand slaps over her mouth as she hurries out of the restroom and flees for the colder night air in hopes that it'll cool her down from the anxiety causing her to perspire beneath her clothes. Going back to the memory of her last period verges on impossible considering the more important information she's had to keep track of in the time since the middle of October, but she knows it didn't come last month. And if her last period was two weeks before Halloween and she vomited her guts out after being drugged by Tate?

The wind blows cold against her stunned face, and she can't do anything but pace around in a blind panic.

She took the pill regularly every single day, and she made sure of that, but Halloween night was the only time she fucked up. The alarm for her pill is seven in the afternoon, and it wasn't much later that she was on her knees puking into a trash can. That paired with the fact that she and Harry had sex first thing in the morning—

"Fuck..."

#harry styles #harry styles smut #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfiction #one direction fanfiction #getaway car #dark!harry #don’t worry darling #fanfiction

[beabnormal24]

Hi, hello, it’s me again here.

So, of course my competitive butt had to take my own comment about Yuki/Alex as a challenge and now I have 12k or more of a draft.

But I don’t know if I’m doing it correctly, I NEED HELP (also mental help, possibly). I was mostly inspired by AJR’s song ‘Turning out’, which I highly recommend because it’s A MASTERPIECE.

The general idea is: Yuki finds a stray puppy during a storm and he brings it to the prt clinic at the ground floor of his apartment complex where Alex has just started working.

They start to get to know each other but Yuki is still nit sure if he actually likes Alex or if he sees him as a best friend, since he’s never cared about actually getting into a relationship so he had never actually looked at the difference between love and in love.

But it’s also a big period of his life because both Charles and Pierre have moved out of the apartment that they used to all (as in Yuki, Pierre and Charles) live in during university because they have started working and have decided to move in either their respective partners.

Charles is already engaged with Carlos (of course there’s Charlos, it’s my fic) and Pierre hints at proposing to George (I don’t know where this ship came from in my mind but I wanted it, so I wrote about it), and Yuki is starting to feel lonely. [also, other side-couples are Sewis and Landoscar]

He has the company of a puppy called Kuri (because it’s Japanese for chestnut, and I imagine Yuki with a poodle with chestnut fur) and Alexander Albon, funny and tall and easygoing but he doesn’t know what it means to him.

So, lots of introspection as it’s common in my fics and fluff because Yalex has to be a comfort ship, sorry. (And I’m also planning on smut, hehe)

Anyway, here is a little snippet, let me know what you think about it (keep in mind that I am NOT British and I do NOT have a beta reader):

—

Karma may be a little fickle tonight, but it certainly pulls him to its side when the heavy rain turns into a light drizzle halfway through his way back to his apartment complex – which isn’t a long journey, per se, but Yuki surely isn’t one to look into a gifted horse’s mouth.

So, by the time he has reached the closed doors of the vet clinic, he is shivering much less than before and the biting cold in his bones has turned into an uncomfortable chill shiver running down his spine from time to time.

What is annoying is the hair plastered down to his eyes dripping wet and the fact that he can’t even try and move a few strands out because his arms are already stuffed full of the sleeping body of a tiny, harmed puppy.

Good God.

The doors stay closed when he finds a sheltered place under the brick's roof of the entrance, but Yuki knows for a fact that Sebastian is never able to leave this place until it’s ten in the evening, because there’s always some animal staying the night after an operation, and he would probably rather close the clinic for good instead of leaving them alone for more than eight hours.

Yuki had never got it, honestly, the sleep and the warm comfort of his bed seems like a much better prospect than staying around sleeping animals in pain, but now that he’s looking at the limp tiny thing in his arms, he may start to understand.

“Sebastian!” he calls out, reaching with his pinky finger to the doorbell. He cries his name a bunch of times, because the rain is starting to fall again and his voice might get covered soon enough, and there’s no way that Yuki is going to wait for him to close everything up – that might take hours, the puppy may be hurting too much by then. “Sebastian, please, it’s an emergency” he must sound like a possessed man, and the lady on the first floor will probably have something to complain about in their next condominium meeting. But she always talks too loudly on her phone on Sunday mornings when Yuki is trying to sleep away a tremendous hangover, so she can honestly go fuck herself – respectfully.

It still takes a few more minutes and a few more desperate calls for the door to open and the dim yellow light of the waiting room to seep on the steps. Yuki slips inside without even waiting for it to open completely, clutching the jacket close to his chest and exhaling deeply through his nose when the warmth of the air-conditioned room finally engulfs him. The puppy sighs against his chest, so it must appreciate the change in temperature, too.

“See, I told you buddy I would get you safe. Yuki always keeps his promises” he says softly, shuffling the bundle of leather closer to his face. The puppy smells pretty bad, a mix of blood and dumpsters rubbish from London neighborhoods, but its tiny eyes are staring back at him all lucid and wide and full of fondness, like it can actually feel love for him, and Yuki can’t even consider the possibility of getting it too far away from his nose.

Yuki may have just fallen in love, too. But it also might be the adrenaline of acting like a freaking hero in a rainstorm when he can barely reach the top cupboard of his kitchen with the help of a stepladder.

But Disney never made a movie about short heroes; he never had a figure to look up to during his childhood.

“Now Sebastian here will take really good care of you, yes? He won’t ever hurt you. Right Seb-” Yuki stops in his tracks when his gaze meets a pair of brown eyes that definitely do not belong to Sebastian, especially with the way he almost has to bend his neck in half to actually look at the face in front of him and not at the expanse of a broad chest hugged by a plain blue polo.

This is not Sebastian’s chest and not Sebastian’s hair and definitely not Sebastian’s lips and definitely definitely not Sebastian’s white coat. Oh.

“You’re not Sebastian” Yuki says dumbly.

Surely enough, there’s a tall lanky guy standing in front of the now closed door, looking only slightly stunned at Yuki’s sudden outburst, like it’s normal to have someone barging inside a vet clinic at half past nine on a Thursday night in the middle of yet another London’s rainy day.

Oh god, but what if this guy is the one who actually barged in? What if Yuki has just uncovered a burglar? But would a burglar open the door for him?

The guy stares at Yuki in silence for two long seconds before he starts patting his abdomen, pretending to check his whole appearance. “Oh, fuck I’m not Sebastian!” the guy exclaims, looking frantically at his fingers, clenching and unclenching his fists like he’s trying to make out the shape of them.

Yuki snorts, shaking his head. This guy could never be a burglar even if his life depended on it, it seems. Besides, he might be slim enough to pass through anything, but he’s still too tall to go unnoticed.

“No, I’m not Sebastian” tall guy says, chuckling to himself. “I’m Alex. You almost made me have an existential crisis right then and there.”

“Identity theft is not a joke”

Alex raises an amused eyebrow at him, like he’s trying to make out the space where Yuki fits in his vision, and he smiles, wide and bright with big teeth and all. “You’re a cultured man, Yuki.”

Yuki furrows his eyebrows in confusion, “How do you know my name?” He asks, looking at the puppy in his arms to make sure- oh, right. “Oh”

Alex laughs again, his eyes crinkling at the corners. He must have a tendency for it or maybe it’s just Yuki who looks funny in general. A lot of people have told him that in the past and he still doesn’t know if it’s a good or bad thing.

“You’re funny” Alex states, like it’s some kind of irrefutable axiom. He clasps his hands, taking a few steps forward to start inspecting the bundle between Yuki’s arms. “I heard there was an emergency.”

Instinctively, Yuki clutches the jacket closer, one finger gently caressing the single dot of white in the middle of the beige fur of his head. The puppy yelps softly, snuggling its little nose towards Yuki’s chest, and his heart swells like a balloon.

“Yeah, I really need Sebastian” Yuki says, “I mean, this little thing is hurt, and it really needs a vet.”

“Well, then, it’s a good coincidence I work here, no?” Alex smiles wide, teeth showing between his lips.

Yuki blinks at him. “Uh, no you don’t?” He says but it sounds more like a question than a statement. But, to be fair, he lives above the place, and he has known everyone around here for ages, he would’ve surely remembered someone as tall as this Alex, with such bright dyed hair and this adorable smile-

“Uh, yes I do?” Alex says back, grinning. “I mean, just since this morning. But officially I work here.”

“I’ve never seen you around. And I live here” Yuki says defensively, trying his very best to show at least a smidge of self-consciousness even though he will probably give up pretty easily if Alex keeps staring at him like this – big eyes, big smile, hair that look incredibly morbid.

He hasn’t seen a new face in a while, more so belonging to a cute guy, and there’s still a beer slowly swimming in his stomach, so he should be justified.

“I moved recently” Alex explains, not giving much information away to satiate Yuki’s curiosity. He arches an eyebrow, finally touching the sides of the jacket hanging from Yuki’s arms. Yuki lets him just because he doesn’t really know what to do anymore, and if the guy is really a vet as he’s claiming to be, then he should trust him more than himself.

It definitely is not because his brain is slowly turning to mush at their proximity.

“Now, let’s see what we have here” Alex says, carefully taking the jacket from his arms.

The puppy goes willingly without even whimpering once, instead snuggling happily as it’s deposited against the chest of a new stranger. Traitor, Yuki thinks, though he would probably react the same in its place.

“Hi little baby. How cute are we? So much” Alex coos gently, caressing with his index finger the same spot Yuki had been gently scraping earlier. The puppy gives another satisfied yelp. “Oh, are we hurt? Poor little thing. But now Alex will take good care of you, alright?”

Yuki just stands there looking at the interaction with his hands to the sides, suddenly feeling too empty after so long of hanging desperately on to the tiny animal. But it’s incredibly adorable and endearing the way Alex keeps comforting it, as if it can actually understand what he’s saying, its tiny tail wiggling against the jacket when he manages to scratch a good spot behind his ears.

The puppy must sense that Alex is a good person, and Yuki may be a little dramatic most of the time, but he probably trusts the puppy more than himself. Especially if it’s about a cute guy talking with a high-pitched voice to an adorable animal in pain.

“Now Alex will take you to the other room and we’ll check everything, yeah?” He looks at Yuki then, eyeing him up and down, probably taking in his conditions.

Only then Yuki realizes what he must look like, with his hair flat over his head, raindrops still sliding down his nose, the simple white T-shirt he had been wearing under the jacket now completely soaked, tight against his chest. His shoes make a weird squelching sound when he takes a step forward, his socks clinging uncomfortably to his toes and his pants scratching against his probably already bruised knees.

Fuck, he wanted to wear them for work, there’s no way he’ll wash them in time.

“Uh, sorry?” He mumbles, painfully aware of the puddle he has formed under his feet. He grips at the hem of his T-shirt, uselessly trying to straighten it out and immediately regretting it when his palms leave sticky red handprints in their wakes. Yeah, no, there’s no way this is recoverable.

Alex doesn’t seem angry about it, and as his gaze falls to the stained fabric, he frowns, concerned.

“It’s the puppy’s” Yuki says, cringing at the feeling of blood against his skin.

Oh God, it’s the puppy’s blood. A puppy’s blood is staining his clothes and his hands and he’s going to puke, isn’t he? Or worse, what if this cute guy thinks he hurt it? What if this cute guy thinks he is an attempted murderer? A murderer of puppies?

Yuki is honestly afraid of his own shadow most of the time, and he still sleeps with his night light on when there’s too many thunders outside, but how can he convince Alex of that without embarrassing himself even further?

To his delight, Alex smiles at him, shaking his head with a twinge of fondness that makes Yuki’s cheeks feel incredibly warm for the way he’s still shivering from the cold. “Come on, then” Alex says, turning around “You can clean up and dry off in front of the radiator.”

Yuki doesn’t have to be told twice.

#f1 #ao3 fanfic #fluff #carlos sainz #lando norris #alex albon #charles leclerc #f1 2023 #yuki tsunoda #yalex #sewis #formula 1 #oscar piastri #charlos #george russell #pierre gasly #gierre #i think? #alexander albon #alpha tauri #williams racing #ao3 #ao3 writer #pls help

[onyaki]

I don't like sharing

quanxi: pretty, hot, good with her words, good in bed, high stamina, gorgeous, fine, and whatever other sexual, and nice comments and describing words you can think of. she's pretty popular among the lot of women who gloat and shit talk about her. when getting a drink from the bar, you a employee who's usually not here on nights like this ends up serving her.

"what can I get you quanxi?" she's seated in the middle of the bar right where the limes, and lemons and other mixers and mix in's are put, and right where you're serving. at the other end of the bar stands your coworker

"you know me?" she smiles slightly "get me a shot of whatever you'd like." she answers

"you're very popular ms quanxi, especially among the women." you turn to the wall of liquor behind you, picking out your favorite from it. "I mean from the things I hear, who wouldn't go gloat to their friends about it?" you sit a cup in front of her with a lime at the bottom of her cup, and the rim of her glass glazed with sugar. you take your time to talk to her before pouring her drink.

"i'm good but I don't think i'm that good." she attempts to dumb herself down, trying to make her seem less of what you've heard about her. "so what have you heard about me?"

"i've heard you're hot, which I believe and can see too," she loves confidence, and that's exactly what you're giving her. "i've heard, you're good with your words, and good in bed too, high stamina and all that." you pour her drink and she drinks it down quicker than you can put the bottle away.

"another one please pretty lady?"

"i've heard you can drink a lot too." you set another drink down in front of her.

"I guess some of the rumors are true."

"which ones do you think are true? I mean you are the one people are rumoring about." you smile, putting away the bottle of liquor. the clock hits 11pm your shift being over, your boss promised you that you wouldn't have to close tonight and that she would. so it was almost her time to come in

"probably that I can drink, and that i'm good in bed but I haven't really had anyone be the real judge of that."

"hm, I guess you really are good with your words. alrighty quanxi, my shift is over, so i'll see you another time." you write her check, leaving it in front of her, slipping your apron off and heading to the back to get your things and leave.

as the back employee door opens, and you spot a trail of smoke from the side of the building.

"came back here to smoke? even after having liquor?"

"came back here to see you, you didn't even ask me your final question. your coworker said you always ask your final customer if there's anything else you can get them." she takes another puff of her cig.

"well, is there anything else I can get you?"

"a kiss? maybe even a date?" you inch towards her, your shoes hitting the freshly wet cement from the rain that had just stopped.

you do what she asks, kissing her, lips stained from the taste of liquor and tobacco. slipping your hands around her neck, deeping the kiss, only for you to pull back right when she was about to charm you even more, slip her hands around your waist and to top it off share a drink with you but you wouldn't let her.

"ah, quanxi. you are a good kisser, it's too bad though i'd love to keep seeing a fine lady like you but I don't like sharing."

"confident, sweet, a good kisser too, and a tease. so you are the other woman i've been hearing about. the woman who sounds perfect for me." your secret is out, well it was out before yet quanxi hadn't caught on. you were rumored about just as much as she was. you don't do what she does though, you seduce.

"I guess I am the other rumored lady aren't I?" as you're just about to break from your grasp around her neck, she takes your waist into her hands.

"you are."

"it's too bad though, this rumored lady doesn't like sharing, she thinks it's tacky, especially when it comes to ladies i take a liking too. if you really want me, just remember I'll have to be the only one you'll have."

#onyakiwrites #onyakionline #x reader #csm manga #csm quanxi #csm smut #i love quanxi #quanxi x reader #quanxi #csm #csm denji #csm lesbians!!! wooo #lesbians #im so gay #i love women #i gotta stop writing for men all the time

[vyncentevelyn]

Eddie knows magic. Ok, so not like El - not the superhero or Upside Down shit. No, Eddie knows parlor tricks, street magic. Before literal hell surfaced in Hawkins, he had a whole trick planned out for when he FINALLY graduated. But, as things are for Eddie, that didn’t quite happen. He got his degree, just no walk across the stuffy gym floor. No moment on the makeshift stage for him to blow the school’s mind one more time. No, instead he received his diploma in an envelope delivered by none other than Hopper. It was better this way, a quiet graduation for the Freak who some still believed was a Satanic murder come to ruin the town. And so, with the revelation of not being allowed to attend his own high school graduation, along with all of the Upside Down escapades, Eddie kind of gave up on the magic.

  But one day while the party hangs out at Steve’s house, Eddie pulls out all the stops.

Eddie is stir crazy. It’s raining. The pizza is nowhere near cooked and Argyle, despite all of his chill, will not allow the group to eat raw dough.

  Argyle grabs Eddie’s wrist to stop him from eating a ball of leftover dough, blinks his pink tinted eyes, and sternly says, “Dude. That is like totally against health code.”

“It’s not going to hurt me. I have honestly put worse in my mouth.” Eddie chides.

“Nope. No can do. If you can’t follow health code, you gotta vamoose my man.” Argyle shakes his head.

Eddie bites his lip and then snags a smaller piece of dough, quickly popping it in his mouth. He chews a closed mouth smile on his lips as he looks at Argyle.

“Dude. I tried to warn you.” Argyle looks at Eddie. “You are now banned from the kitchen.”

Argyle pushes Eddie, a little harder than Eddie was prepared for, towards the living room. Eddie kind of trips but styles it out into a twirl as he backs away from Argyle.

“My apologies.” Eddie says.

Argyle points to the living room. “You can come back when it’s ready.”

Jonathan laughs. Arms crossed as he watches with equally pink eyes, leaning up against the counter. He smiles warmly but offers no assistance to Eddie.

Will shoots Eddie a look as he walks by the island, it’s the kind of look that says his hands are tied, that he’s sorry. Eddie rolls his eyes back in response.

Mike barely registers the exchange as he focuses on something he and Will were working on, just nods at Eddie as if it was Eddie’s choice to leave the kitchen.

Max and Lucas are too busy canoodling at the dining room table to acknowledge anyone else. Eddie sticks his tongue out at them as he passes. They are too lost in each other to even notice that.

Defeated, Eddie sulks into Steve’s living room. He flops onto the ridiculously white, plush carpet in front of the couch. Some movie plays on the tv but Eddie cannot focus on the screen long enough to even figure out what it is. He opens drawer after drawer in the strange “apothecary” coffee table. Finally, he finds something. He jumps up clutching his prize to his chest.

He smirks down at the couch. Robin, Steve, El, Nancy, and Dustin stare back. They are now his captive audience.

Steve blinks his maple syrup eyes, “Whatcha got there Munson?”

Eddie just smiles. He steps up onto the coffee table, ignoring Nancy’s chiding, and turns to bow at the couch.

“Ladies, gentlemen, and ghouls. It is a pleasure to have you all here tonight.” Eddie bows, swooping his arms out wide.

“Is it though?” Dustin asks, pushing the pause button on the tv remote.

“Oh, but it is my dear lad. For tonight, you are joined by Eddie the Freak who will perform tricks no mortal has seen.”

“Tricks?” El’s voice sounds disapproving. “Friends don’t lie Eddie.”

Eddie blinks at the young girl, tilts his head and smiles, “Magic, my dear girl. Not lies – I assure you.” He places his hand on his heart to emphasize his honesty.

Her eyes grow wide, “Magic?”

It only takes El’s awestruck expression to get Eddie to up his game. But when he sees Steve’s own eyes expand in wonder, Eddie can’t help but fully step into the role as magician.

As if to answer El’s question, Eddie shows the deck of cards he had been hiding in his hand. El smiles but he can see the speculation in her eyes.

He opens the deck of cards, haphazardly tossing the cardboard box to the floor, and passes them to Steve, “Darlin, you mind giving these cards a shuffle?”

Steve blushes but takes the cards. He shuffles the cards and then hands them back to Eddie.

Eddie fans the cards out in front of El, “I want you to take one card out. Don’t let me see it but show it to everyone on the couch.”

El beams at Eddie before carefully picking a card from the fanned deck. Eddie collapses the deck and turns away from the couch as she shows each of the couch’s occupants the card she had chosen. Eddie peeks from his peripheral and asks, “Did everyone get a good look?”

“Yes.” El’s voice is stern but dripping in happiness.

Eddie turns back and stoops down on the coffee table to be level with El. He holds the deck in one hand out to El, “Now my dear, place the card back anywhere in the deck.”

“Back in the deck?” El muses. She studies the deck and then slips her card back in the stack.

Eddie begins to shuffle the deck, “I want you all to watch very carefully.” He looks at each of them as he moves the cards through one another. “I am going to make your card leave.”

“Leave?” El asks, turning to look at Steve and Robin for an explanation.

Steve shrugs before looking right back at Eddie. Robin raises her eyebrows and nods. El furrows her brow at Robin before turning to Nancy. Nancy smiles softly and points a manicured finger back to Eddie. El glances at Dustin who is too focused on Eddie’s hands to even register El. Sighing, she looks back at Eddie and tilts her head.

“I am going to get your card to leave the deck, to vanish.” Eddie explains, flipping through the cards. The soft sputtering of cardstock filling the silence. “Watch.” He flips over the first card to reveal the 5 of Clubs. “This is not your card, right?”

El smirks, “That is not my card.”

“Watch, El.” Eddie flips the card back over before snapping the card, the reverberation making a soft hum. “But this is your card.” Eddie smiles, flipping the card over again.

This time the Ace of Spades is face up.

El’s eyes grow wide.

  Dustin shakes his head in disbelief.

  Nancy makes a small chuckle.

  Robin softly mutters, “Wow...”

  “Holy shit.” Steve swears.

“Ah, ah.” Eddie coos, “We’re not quite down yet.” He smirks at each one, holding eye contact just a little longer with Steve who is openly gaping at him. Eddie feels a sense of pride slip over each vertebra in his spine. He looks back at El, “Now, I told you I would get this card to leave, right?”

“Yes.” El replies.

“Here it goes.” Eddie turns the card over and places it back in the stack. “Watch, I’m going to shake it.” He moves the whole deck and his hand to the side before bringing it back to center with El. “Do you think it’s gone?”

El shakes her head. Eddie flicks his eyes over the rest of his audience. Each one is staring at the deck, and each one looks like they know what is about to happen.

He flips the first card back over, again revealing the 5 of Clubs, “It’s gone.”

El’s eyes narrow. “I do not believe you.”

“It’s gotta still be in the deck.” Dustin argues.

El nods in agreement.

Eddie smirks. “Are you sure?”

“Yes.” Dustin and El say in unison.

“Do me a favor El, ask Steve to check his back pocket.”

The whole couch turns to look at Steve. Steve stares back, with wide eyes, “I am in no way involved in this.”

“You didn’t feel me touch you, right? Not your hair, not your clothes. Nothing?” Eddie asks.

“No…?” Steve’s voice is wary, the pink returning to his cheeks and ears.

El looks at Steve, “Stand up.”

Steve stands from the couch and Eddie rises to full height with him. He smiles down at them from his coffee table stage as Steve reaches into his back pocket. Steve freezes. His hand still in his back right pocket.

“No.” Steve shakes his head. “Fucking no.”

“What is it, Stevie?” Eddie pulls a strand of his hair across his mouth.

“No.” Steve says again as he pulls the card out of his back pocket.

He flips the card over.

The Ace of Spades sits proudly in his hand.

Dustin laughs, “What the hell!”

Robin shakes her head, “That is insane.”

Nancy smiles, eyes bright and for a second she looks years younger. She claps her hands together in applause.

  “NO!” Steve yells.

El bursts into laughter. Her eyes shine as she stares up at Eddie, “You are magic.”

Steve is running with the card into the kitchen, “Max! Jonathan! Argyle! Lucas! Will! Mike! He’s…Eddie! He’s magic!”

Eddie smiles at where Steve disappeared into the kitchen. He can hear Steve gush to the group gathered in the kitchen. His heart beating fast with excitement and pride as Steve’s voice raises with wonder during his retelling. And he thinks for his next performance he will have an audience of one. He thinks he’ll bring his handcuffs over to Steve’s house and show him a different kind of magic trick…

#stranger things #headcanon #eddie munson #steve harrington #nancy wheeler #robin buckley #will byers #jonathan byers #lucas sinclair #mike wheeler #dustin henderson #max mayfield #el hopper #steddie #ronance #argyle x jonathan #lucas x max #magic #magic tricks #card tricks #magician #handcuff #tease #steve and robin #ficlet