#shes read so much about it!!! and now she has it!!!!!!
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Clownfall: the Election Cometh
It's a long one, lads. Buckle up, get comfy, but the circus is in town for its final run. Ambient music as you read can be found here or here, take your pick. Get popcorn. Get snacks and water and a blanket.
Are you sitting comfortably?
Wednesday 22nd May
7.12am
Household favourite and queen of our hearts Pippa Crerar of the Guardian (her who did the investigative journalism that revealed PartyGate to the world) reports that UK inflation fell to a mere, paltry 2.3% in April. The lowest level in three years! Huzzah! But … still smaller than the decline that was expected.
Nonetheless, Rishi Sunak and Jeremy Cunt whoops I'm so sorry I meant Cunt haha whoops said it again make a big fuss about how brilliant this news is, and how it shows that they are Good At Maffs after all that trouble with Liz Truss and Kwasi Kwarteng, who defined themselves as being Good At Maffs and then obliterated the economy in a single day. Remember that! Good times. But hey, look, THIS PM/Grand Vizier combo are great at this! Inflation has fallen! Stop looking at the predicted rate! A fall is still a fall!
Crerar wonders whether people will actually feel better off, though – prices and mortgage rates are still high, after all. Food for thought.
10.04am
Jeremy Hunt is asked on the Today programme whether Sunak will call a general election.
Now, the logic here is that the government is likely to do better in an election if the economy’s improving; which, SunakCunt are now shrieking from the rooftops. So, is now the time? It's a win, and they've had so few of those, but historically people really do like to fall for the right wing = better economy myth...
BUT – the Tories are doing so very badly in the polls. Journalists favour the idea of an autumn election. Tories do better when the weather’s bad, because fewer people go out and vote.
“Well that’s a matter for the prime minister, it’s not a matter for me,” says Cunt.
... Well. Not ruling it out, then? Diddorol.
10.30am
It's Wednesday, aka the date that Tory cabinet ministers have their weekly meeting. They are duly sent the agenda.
There is no mention at all of an election announcement, nor any plan for an election.
Fair enough! 'Twas an idle thought. Plus, it would actually be bad timing from a logistical perspective - David Cameron, Foreign Secretary and Bae of Pigs, is currently flying out to Albania for an important international meeting, and Jeremy Cunt is on TV all day today - ITV next.
12.18pm
Sunak is asked at Prime Minister’s Questions whether he’ll call a general election. He doesn’t rule it out.
12.56pm
Fun tweet alert!
2.31pm
Pippa Crerar asked Sunak’s press secretary whether he was calling an election. She refused to comment.
Surely it’s a terrible time to call an election! Everyone hates them! But suddenly …
A Cabinet meeting is scheduled for 4.15pm. David Hameron suddenly u-turns in Albania and comes straight back home, his meeting un-met. Jeremy Cunt cancels his ITV appearance. The afternoon meeting is cancelled. Number 10 stops responding to journalists. Manifesto work has stepped up. Sunak’s chief-of-staff is spotted wearing a suit and tie WHICH IS UNUSUAL. Senior ministers have spent the last few days doubling down on dividing lines. And Tory bosses had a meeting this week to discuss how much money they could spend before a summer election.
The UK press sense blood in the water.
3pm
Okay.
There’s something you need to understand:
People suspect Rishi Sunak doesn’t actually want to live in the UK. He’d prefer to be in California. He’s here because he’s an MP.
You need to know this to understand this truly historic incident.
Nadine Dorries has produced a good tweet.
...
...
...
No, we all need to sit with this one for a minute
(For the record... to us, that is an excellent joke. But I strongly suspect she wasn't joking and was trying to make a catty accusation instead, which coincidentally appeared like a roast.
Scientists are referring to this as Stopped Clock Syndrome.)
5.17pm
With great dignity, Rishi Sunak stands outside Number 10 and announces a general election on 4 July.
And by “great dignity”, I mean he’s soaked by rain, while “Things Can Only Get Better” plays in the background courtesy of an anti-Tory protestor with a big speaker and a dream; the song adopted by he Labour Party for the 1997 election, where Tony Blair famously won a landslide victory after 18 years of Tory rule. Eventually, the volume of it is raised so high Sunak is, on more than one level, drowned out.
5.37pm
According to Gabriel Pogrund of the Times, Labour can’t believe Number 10 allowed this to happen.
One Labour insider texts: “Umbrellas are woke”
6.06pm
Good tweet alert!
8pm
A later Guardian article reports that Sunak greeted around a hundred Tory activists – still wearing the same rain-soaked trousers from the announcement.
No word at all on why he doesn't have aides capable of fetching him dry trousers. Perhaps those, too, are woke.
8.14pm
A Sky News reporter is at Sunak’s campaign launch. But, bafflingly, he’s forcibly removed. Extraordinary scenes
Elanor's Pro Tip: Removing a journalist may not be the best PR move for the start of an election trail.
8.27pm
9.36pm
A GBNews reporter claims that some Tory MPs are trying desperately to replace Sunak as leader in order to call off the general election. For this to work, they’d need a vote of no confidence before the dissolution of parliament on Thursday 30 May. Except actually, that would have to happen before the proroguing of parliament on Friday 24 May.
So … this won’t work. But how very incredible - and hilarious - that they’re trying.
10.39pm
Let's take a look at the evening headlines!
A great start to Sunak’s campaign, with newspapers - including the Tory giant The Telegraph - celebrating the triumphant launch of his campaign:
Well! WHAT a day! Let's see how Thursday goes.
Thursday 23 May
8.00am
The BBC takes a moment to gleefully throw off the shackles of political oppression of the last 12 years to reveal that Rishi Sunak's announcement of a July election, the single most important announcement for a sitting government, the most sensitive and vitally-timed event in their calendar...
Was a total surprise to the rest of the party.
Tory party MPs found out when we did that they were about to have to campaign again. For a snap GE. Three weeks after having just done it for the council elections, in which they experienced the greatest single loss of their councillors in history. Even the damn meeting agenda was fake.
Still. Perhaps this explains the lack of umbrella or trousers.
9.09am
Nigel Farage confirms he will NOT stand at the general election.
*pause for applause*
That’s because he’s helping Trump get re-elected in the US right now.
*pause for screams*
This is good news for the Tories! And the rest of Britain, actually (commiserations to America. Please shoot him). Farage’s right-wing populist party - Reform UK - is the spiritual successor to UKIP and the Brexit Party, who’ve been splitting the right-wing vote for years. Farage is popular; it’s bad news for Reform if he’s not part of their campaign, but simply fantastic news for those of us who think queer folks, women and people of colour deserve human rights.
9.19am
According to BBC News and others, Sunak has hired Isaac Levido, the election strategist behind the Tories’ landslide win in 2019. Levido knows his stuff, and advised Sunak to stick with an autumn election.
Sunak ignored this advice. Lol.
9.20am
In the Guardian, Sunak says there WON’T be planes of immigrants flying to Rwanda before the general election. Good news for those of us who think it’s monstrous to deport immigrants to countries with unsafe governments. Bad news for Tory voters who were hoping to get racists to vote for them.
Now, this is particularly funny, because promising to deport refugees to Rwanda in spite of overwhelming legal opposition on human rights grounds is probably the single hill that the Tories have chosen to commit genocide on. This bill has been in and out of every court in the land since they promised it in 2019. It's been on again off again more than a tawdry tabloid romance. But, they finally managed to push it through, and the first planes were set to fly in July.
This means! That Sunak's strongest cards going into the election were the drop in inflation, and the Rwanda bill. He could sell it as "In spite of those bleeding heart liberals, we persevered and managed to tenaciously get rid of these browns and thus fulfilled our promise", and the fact that it won't actually affect the immigration numbers wouldn't be clear until after the election. And make no mistake, it is VITAL that those planes fly before any election - quoth one influential Conservative MP on the right of the party to the BBC:
“I know what question you’re going to ask us again and again. "You’ll say we’ve been banging on about Rwanda for years and we’ve only managed to fly one migrant out there - and we paid him to go”.
It took a single day for that gamble to dramatically fail.
Lol. Lmao, even. One might almost say rofl.
9.21am
Sunak is emphasising his own role in managing the economy.
The Guardian’s Rowena Mason points out that it might be better to sell this as a Tory victory rather than a Sunak victory, considering how badly Sunak’s doing as an individual in the polls.
10.45am
I'm obviously giving a lot of attention here to the funniest and most ridiculous stuff, but let’s take a moment to celebrate some genuinely brilliant journalism:
0_o
The whole article’s worth reading. It confirms that at least one more hi-vis wearer was a Tory councillor in disguise (in this case Ben Hall-Evans). Perhaps this is why they started by removing all the real journalists.
12.42pm
Sunak’s campaign takes him to a brewery in Wales! He attempts some Bonding With The Working Man and asks the workers if they’re excited for the football.
Top tip: if you don’t realise the country you’re in hasn’t qualified for the Euros, maybe don’t even mention the subject.
6.55pm
... here is a new problem. Ish.
As mentioned, three weeks ago, England held local council elections. In that time, the Tories lost over half their councillors; an unprecedented and staggering loss in one event. We are all still bathing in the schadenfreude.
But, many of those then left the party (probably fairly, actually - monsters though Tories are, that cannot have been fun.) But, the way politics in the UK works is that when you vote, you don't vote for the party - you vote for your local representative, and then it's a numbers game as to which party gets to rule. This means, with this sudden last-minute possibly-impulsively-declared-by-one-soggy-madman election now six weeks away, those candidates all need replacing so that the Tories will have a shot at getting the numbers they need to form a majority government.
Channel 4’s Paul McNamara reports that Conservative HQ have emailed asking for candidates in almost 100 seats. The deadline’s tight for this – and apparently, joining the lengthening list of people who weren't informed of this stupid election plan, Tory associations are livid at being left so unprepared.
Now, a lot of these seats are Labour strongholds, so you don’t necessarily need more than a token Tory candidate for them. Phew! A great relief.
But some of them are actually good Tory seats. Uh oh! Basildon, Bury St Edmunds, Wellingborough and Rushden … It’s a bad hit to the Tories to have so little time to find good candidates for these seats.
8.59pm
Labour launch a campaign video. It’s long, but the message is, “Remember life before the Tories got into power? Wasn’t it BRILLIANT?”
And to prove how great 2009 was, they’ve included a clip of David Tennant’s Dr Who saying “I don’t want to go.”
Lol.
9.57pm
Filmmaker Richard Cubitt jokily suggests he could stand as a Tory candidate, and immediately defect to Labour as soon as possible once elected.
I don’t know if the deadline’s closed, but I am now speaking to the chat. Lads: the time will never be better. Do it. Tell the Tories you'll stand for them. Immediately defect. You have the opportunity to do the funniest thing. Be the rot in the barrel. The time is now.
ANYWAY. Oh boy. Day one of campaigning was quite bad. Ah well! Onwards and upwards for Wali Heb Broli. Let's see what Friday brings.
And of course: the losses are staggering (100 candidates!), but it could be worse.
At least it's not senior MPs.
Friday 24 May
7.00am
Over 70 MPs confirm they will not be standing for re-election.
7.35am
It’ll be lovely to see this election get rid of some truly awful Tories. But no need to wait that long! John Redwood stands down. I haven't mentioned him before, but let's look at his clownface eggshell.
He opposed reducing the age of consent for homosexuality in 1994 and 1999, he voted to keep Section 28 in 2003, he opposed same sex marriage, he voted to reintroduce the death penalty in 1988, 1990 and 1994, he’s argued against Greta Thunberg over the UK’s climate emissions.
Although English, he became Secretary of State for Wales in 1993, and at a Tory conference, had to mime badly to the Welsh national anthem which he hadn’t bothered learning. In 1995, he cheated Wales out of a £100 million grant by returning it unspent to the treasury, so it could go back to England.
So, John – if by some fantastically rare chance you’re somehow reading this – it’s wonderful to see you step down. I wish you a very warm fuck you. And I hope the rest of your life is absolutely horrible and filled with immeasurable pain. Kisses.
7.58am
Vicky Spratt of the i newspaper announces that, with an election announced, the Renters’ Reform won’t pass.
This is a big deal, actually - this was a rare good promise in the Tories’ 2019 manifesto to protect renters by ending no-fault evictions. A good promise! With cross-parliamentary support, only slowed as much as it was because most Tory backbenchers are landlords and so tried to block it. But the fighting raged on, and it was finally agreed.
And now it’s broken. Wasting months of work by stakeholders, and thus forming another election promise that would have sailed through if only the election hadn't been called for July.
8.09am
Jeremy Corbyn – remember him? Former Labour leader, who was expelled from the Labour party in 2020 – confirms he’ll be standing as an independent. He’s continued to be a member of Labour despite being an independent MP – but standing against Labour in an election means he’ll have his membership revoked too.
9.26am
So where are we at? How do you reckon the normal Tories in the party are faring? Do you think they're positive of a win? Do you think they expect to lose?
Great Guardian article here:
Highlights - one government minister happened to bump into his equivalent opposition member, and immediately thrust his official folder towards them, saying, “You might as well have this now.”
Another Tory MP hugged a Labour colleague and cast their arm around the room. “Good luck. This is all yours.”
One Tory backbencher was asked if it was a good idea to call an election. “It’s a disaster. I can’t understand it.”
Even when they’re being optimistic, the Tories seem a little glum. One long-standing MP said: “Of course I’m going to fight it, I don’t believe in just giving up like the prime minister has obviously decided to.”
A former minister raises an interesting point. It’s not long, after all, since the Tories suffered those major defeats at the local council elections. That's impacted the number of candidates, of course - but, local canvassing is largely done, on all parts of the political spectrum, but activist volunteers.
That loss was three weeks ago. If you were a volunteer who just spent weeks knocking on the doors of your neighbours and community, trying to convince them to vote for the dead horse, and then lost – maybe you won’t feel like hitting the streets again so soon. Maybe you'd prefer to be able to meet your neighbours' eyes when you bump into them in the bread slicing queue at Morrisons.
Some MPs have even admitted they won’t be cancelling holiday plans to fight the election. On top of that, there's over 70 MPs that have already confirmed they’re quitting and won’t be seeking re-election!!! Absolute scenes.
Interestingly, some anti-Sunak Tories report frustration. They reckon they were close to calling a vote of no-confidence, in the hopes of replacing Sunak with a different leader. No idea if this is true – and if true, whether Sunak knew it. But given the panicked speed at which it seems to have been called...
11.08am
The campaign takes Rishi Sunak to the Titanic Quarter, to be interviewed by Belfast Live.
Elanor's Pro Tip: if you’re the leader of a failing political party, maybe don’t let journalists interview you on a site named after history’s most famous sinking ship.
11.57am
How’s the campaign going, Rishi?
Oh, Rishi. Looks like someone else is not meeting anyone's eyes in the bread-slicing queue.
1.12pm
Politics UK reports that 75 Tory MPs are now standing down at the election – the same number of Tories who stood down ahead of the 1997 election.
2.49pm
Sunak’s campaign takes him on board an aeroplane.
Elanor's Pro Tip: if you’re the leader of a failing political party, maybe don’t be photographed in front of an exit sign.
7.07pm
MICHAEL GOVE ANNOUNCES HE’S STANDING DOWN AS AN MP!
I could honestly use that gif like seventeen times in this write up. You can all thank me for my restraint in choosing just one.
The 79th Tory to do so at this election – an all-time record exodus. Hey gang, would you like to see some familiar names joining him in this?
Theresa May
Sajid Javid
Dominic Raab
Matt Hancock
Ben Wallace
Nadhim Zahawi.
It’s just … not a great sign for the party, is it? That so many prominent MPs don’t reckon it’s worth sticking around.
7.50pm
Hey, remember those parody videos of Hitler getting angry with funny subtitles? Someone made a good Sunak one:
vimeo
10.48pm
The Guardian’s Kiran Stacey reports that Sunak will retreat from the campaign trail, spending the next day at home.
Honestly... that's probably best. Let him recover from the bread excitement.
10.50pm
We round off the day with Andrea Leadsom announcing she too is standing down as an MP. Bye, bitch.
WHAT A DAY! Still, Saturday will probably be better.
Saturday 25 May
12am
New episode of Doctor Who drops! It contains Welsh faeries. I later write a post explaining this. You're all welcome. Back to the circus.
10.06am
Good tweet alert!
11.14am
Keir Starmer promises to lower the voting age from 18 to 16 if he wins the election.
2.43pm
Hey remember how David Hameron was supposed to be in Albania? And actually went there? And then had to come back because of Rishi's totally-planned-for election announcement?
The Mirror reports that David Cameron spent £60,000 of taxpayers’ money getting to Albania for that trip. He was there for 89 minutes, before he had to come back in light of the general election announcement.
This means it cost the country £674 a minute for Cameron to be in Albania for about as long as it takes to watch The Lion King.
6.14pm
Labour and the Tories put candidates forward for 650 seats in a general election.
Of course, that's not quite all of them. The Times’ Patrick Maguire understands that Labour have only 13 candidates left to select, which is pretty good. The Tories are missing slightly more than that.
They need to find around 190.
(The number is rising. Chat, you know what to do.)
9.29pm
According to the Telegraph, Theresa May has said if she was still PM she would have used an umbrella to declare the election.
She probably would have, too.
10.11pm
Now then!!! Gather round boys and girls and all the rest!
Remember: the election was called based upon the following main cards in Sunak's hand:
The Rwanda bill
Inflation falling
The Renter's Reform Bill
Inflation fell, but not by as much as it should have. The Rwanda plan fell through a day later. The election itself has blocked the Renter's Reform bill.
Rishi needs a new set of promises stat, in order to shore up votes from his most important bastions of support. What can he offer?
The evening brings the answer!
At 10.11pm - note the time - in spite of having taken the day off, Sunak promises mandatory national service for every 18 year old if he wins the election. Either a year-long army placement, or a weekend a month volunteering for a year.
Sounds like a good pledge, if you’re hoping to motivate 18-year-olds to vote against you.
10.16pm
The Financial Times’ Jim Pickard reveals that the National Citizen Service (David Cameron’s legacy project) had its funding slashed by two-thirds in a 2022 review of government youth funding - when the chancellor was Rishi Sunak.
Five minutes. That’s how long it took a journalist to melt Sunak’s new pledge.
Still; Tories never let facts get in the way.
10.27pm
Politics UK reports that leaked documents suggest teenagers would be jailed for refusing this national service.
11.47pm
Sunak's bad ideas generator works hard, but the meme makers of the internet work harder:
Still. Sunday is a day of rest! Hopefully Sunday will be better.
Sunday 26 May
9.50am
Let’s check the Sunday tweets.
Starting to think whoever is in charge of optics for Rishi Sunak may be a Labour plant.
10.21am
Fantastic tweet alert:
I Agree With Gabby
3pm
And then... PLOT TWIST!!!
FT’s Lucy Fisher reports that Sunak’s national service pledge - including assigning up to 30,000 18-year-olds to the military - was rejected this week by one of his own defence ministers.
Defence personnel minister Andrew Murrison warned of a hit to morale, headcount and resources if “potentially unwilling national service recruits” were introduced alongside Britain’s professional armed forces.
EVEN THE ARMY DON'T WANT THIS.
6.47pm
And then:
Incredible story from Gabriel Pogrund of the Times.
St Paul’s School, if you haven't heard of it, is an expensive and famous private school in England somewhere (I forget where and don't care). As with other private schools, they’d be subject post-election to a Labour plan to remove their VAT exemption.
Tory MP Greg Hands took matters into his own Greg hands, and messaged the school’s parents’ WhatsApp group to try and drum up anti-Labour sentiment.
I can see the logic. These are parents with money, who have chosen to send their children to a private school that often means an easy track into politics generally and the Tory party specifically. I see why he thought he was safe.
Tumblrs, he was not safe.
Parents intervened, complaining about Hands spamming the chat, and claiming his use of the chat was “inappropriate”.
One parent messaged: “Can we stop assuming everyone is a Tory in this group. A return to more morality, less corruption and more social conscience in British politics is not something to oppose necessarily.”
Another expressed that some parents will “feel it is hard to defend private schools being vat exempt.”
Ouch. Swing and a miss, Greg Hands.
Anyway. New week, new campaigning. I am writing this on Tuesday, and so our tale is nearly at an end for now; so let's see what happened on Monday.
Monday 27 May (Yesterday)
7.40am
Britain's teenagers respond to the national service plan. I love this tweet and the video it reposts:
And here, for your viewing pleasure, is the video:
8.17am
Tory MP Steve Baker (more on him later) actually tweets a public criticism of Sunak’s national service plan. You might be thinking "Well yes, obviously"! But no! For you see, when approaching elections, parties need to be united. Divided parties generally find it harder to win elections.
Naughty Steve.
8.41am
Foreign Office Minister Anne-Marie Trevelyan, having seen the absolute shambles of Sunak’s campaigning, wakes up this fine Monday morn and invites him to hold her beer.
Appearing on Times Radio, she’s asked whether the parents of teenagers could be prosecuted if the teens refuse to take up national service.
And she doesn’t rule it out.
NO BUT WHAT THE FUCK. WHAT ARE YOU DOING ANNE-MARIE. IS THIS YOUR FIRST DAY OUT OF THE HOUSE.
Parents are NOT prosecuted for any wrongdoing of their ADULT CHILDREN. How do you not understand this basic legal concept. The answer to that question was “no”! You say “no” because it makes your party more likely to be elected, and you say “no” because the answer is no.
Oh dear. What a gaffe, as the papers say. Gosh, I really hope Anne-Marie Trevelyan’s gaffe stays contained.
8.56am
The Telegraph duly reports that parents of 18-year-olds might be fined if their children refuse national service.
Anne-Marie Trevelyan’s gaffe did not stay contained.
10.55am
Looks like the Tories are unhappy that the press revealed that Sunak took a day off from campaigning.
But that’s okay, they have a new strategy! Reported by Politico, they’ve decided to suggest that Keir Starmer is too old to be a good Prime Minister.
They called him “weary” yesterday afternoon;
Tory Party Chair Richard Holden says it’s “bizarre” for Starmer to rest at home the day before a speech (but not for Rishi to - ? You know what, never mind);
A Tory aide tells the Sun that Starmer should be dubbed “Sir Sleepy” (what a Zinger, as those conscripted into national service say);
Another Tory aide calls Starmer “Sleepy Keir” according to the FT.
Keir Starmer is 61 years old.
11.17am
Let's check Tory candidate numbers!!!
Now last we looked it was 190, but obviously, as this is possibly their most urgent priority, they've been working flat out and recruiting across the land and so they have, fair play, managed to reduce that number.
The Spectator therefore reports that the Tories have 12 days to select 160 candidates. Would you like to see the maths?
This means, on average, they need to select one candidate every 100 minutes. Which is slightly less time than it takes to watch Toy Story 3.
#ChatYouKnowWhatToDo
12.41pm
The FT’s Lucy Fisher reports that Tory HQ has accidentally sent out an email criticising Tory MPs for failing to campaign, and warning of financial concerns in some seats.
Cannot stress this enough: even if the Tory campaign was going really well and they were predicting a landslide their way, this would be a terrible blow.
5.02pm
The Mirror reports that Tory MP Steve Baker is on holiday in Greece. That’s pretty irresponsible, isn’t it? What does Baker have to say for himself?
"The Prime Minister told everyone we could go on holiday and then called a snap election. So I've chosen to do my campaign work in Greece."
… this is the greatest Tory campaign in history.
(And once again... when exactly did you decide to do this, Rishi?)
5.15pm
In an absolutely baffling move whose motives I still cannot entirely fathom, Tory MP Lucy Allan - a repugnant, malignant liar of a woman who once altered an email from a constituent so she could claim it contained a death threat against her - is suspended by the party, for telling voters in her ward to vote for Reform UK instead of the Tories.
...
...
...
...wwwhyyyyyyyyyyyyyy
6.18pm
Good tweet alert! Here's political journalist Jonn Elledge:
6.30pm
Meanwhile, a Tory chooses to contact journalist Theo Usherwood over WhatsApp, criticising the election strategist Isaac Levido:
Now this is particularly interesting, because Levido is the guy who managed to swing the last GE to BlowJo, even though Labour were riding high on Corbyn. And I don't know, maybe he is actually shit at this and all that was luck.
I just... wouldn't have said he was the reason for this one going the way it is. Necessarily.
Finally, let's finish off Monday with a last good tweet:
10.06pm
***
That's all for now, folks! Thank you for reading, enjoy the circus playing out this week!
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★ BREAK THE BED (LITERALLY) ─── CC²²
❪ requested -> "Can I pleaseeee get a fic where cc actually breaks the bed?? I just know her strap game in rough after a loss" ❫
─ warnings | nsfw under the cut, read at ur own discretion. kinda angsty but not rly???? just very angry cait (for the most part), mention of the media being mean, STRAP!!!!!!!!!!!! degradation with a sprinkle of praise, the bed actually breaking lol (who woulda thought?), it ends in a funny way and aftercare with so much cuteness u might die!!!!
─ ev's notes | kinda word vomit but this concept makes me go feral!!!!!!!
⇨ missing out on updates? check out my wcbb masterlist!
the entire night, caitlin had gotten absolutely dogged on. the game had been brutal, not just physically but emotionally. she could still feel the sting of missed shots, the weight of turnovers, and the disappointment of her teammates' glares. the fans' cheers had turned to jeers, and she couldn't shake off the feeling of letting everyone down.
off the court, the media scrutiny was relentless. headlines dissected her every move, analyzing her performance with a critical eye. she was sick of it, and with each passing moment, her anger only seemed to grow stronger. she wanted to scream, to lash out at something, anything, that could bear the weight of her frustration.
"oh, fuck!" you moaned as you felt your eyes roll to the back of your head, gripping the sheets beneath you. caitlin had you bent over her bed as she fucked into you relentlessly, one of her hands gripping your hip as the other pushed your head into the mattress. "please,"
her thrusts were fast and unforgiving, she was absolutely wrecking you. you'd both been at it for what felt like hours but in reality, your legs felt like they were about to give out at any moment but neither of you cared ─ it felt so good.
"fuck, yeah. take it, fucking take it," caitlin's groans came out breathless as her head fell back, as if she could really feel you through the thick piece of plastic. "good fucking girl, yeah,"
you nodded your head against the mattress at her praise, feeling the coil in your stomach begin to tighten. you loved it when cait treated you like this ─ she was usually caring but right now it felt like she couldn't care less about how you felt.
and you can admit to almost anyone that having a hot and tall hooper girlfriend has many perks ─ including getting absolutely fucking wrecked by her strap after terrible games.
"please, fuck," you choked out as you felt yourself begin to shake underneath her, your face contorting into one of pure bliss.
"fucking slut," the words came out smoothly as you moaned in response. she wasn't ever much of a degrader but god, did it feel good.
caitlin gripped your hair even harder as she pulled you up so that she press kisses against your jaw as she continued to fuck into you. "you like that? fuck, baby, you like getting called a slut? yeah?"
"yeah," you sobbed out as caitlin pressed her lips against yours in a sloppy kiss.
caitlin pushed your head back against the mattress and somehow, her thrusts got even rougher and faster. "oh fuck yeah, take it like a slut. i know you like that shit, stop whining,"
that was all it took for you to cum around her strap, your cries of pleasure echoing throughout her apartment. she didn't stop, she kept fucking you until you rode out your high.
caitlin kept pressing sloppy kisses on your shoulders and neck as you caught your breath, she wrapped her arms around your naked back and pulled you closer. you could feel her smile on your neck as you both stayed like that for a few moments, relishing in each other.
and that was all she needed to feel okay again. suddenly all the media and all the bullshit didn't matter anymore, because at least you were with her. and at the end of the day, she has a sexy ass girlfriend who can take her rough strap game after a tough loss (and who supports and cherishes her).
she pulled out of you slowly, wary of your very sensitive pussy. you winced as her expression turned thoughtful, "you okay, honey?"
"yeah," you whispered out as caitlin's hands gripped your hips and slowly pushed you on the bed. you turned around to meet her face and she pushed your hair out of your face, taking in your beautiful face.
she put one leg on the bed and began to move toward you, only for the mattress to completely complete collapse underneath. caitlin's eyes widened in surprise as the mattress collapsed beneath her, sending both of you tumbling to the floor with a thud. you let out a startled gasp, the sudden movement catching you off guard.
for a moment, there was silence, save for the sound of your breathing and the creaking of the broken bed frame. then, a burst of laughter bubbled up from deep within you, and soon caitlin joined in, her laughter filling the room.
"holy shit, dude," you laughed as caitlin caught her breath.
caitlin kept giggling as she shook her head in amusement. "my strap game that good?"
"i can't believe we actually like... we broke the bed," you both dissolved into fits of laughter again, the absurdity of the situation sinking in.
caitlin smirked, a playful glint in her eyes. "i guess that's what happens when you bring your a-game," she quipped, earning another round of laughter from both of you. "my ego really, really needed that, whew."
your expression softened as your girlfriend looked back at you, before continuing. "no seriously, even if we keep this losing streak up, at least i have you to make me feel better."
"really? that was all it took, one good fuck and you're all better?" you smirked as caitlin nodded, in all seriousness.
"oh, yes. absolutely. half of those dudes can't get their girls to orgasm with their real dicks. i did it with a damn strap and i got you screaming your head off, oh and i broke the bed," caitlin explained as you began laughing again. "i'm never gonna be able to take 'em seriously now, cause like... sure i keep getting dogged on but i'm still adjusting and!"
she pulled you closer into her chest, "i have a sexy girlfriend,"
"that's the spirit, baby," you laughed again as you squeezed your tall girlfriend.
caitlin chuckled, her arms wrapping around you in a tight embrace. "damn right," she said, her voice filled with pride. "and don't you forget it."
"never doubted it for a second," you replied, pressing a kiss to her cheek. "you're the sexiest, most badass girlfriend a girl could ask for."
"i love you, sweetheart," she mumbled against your head as she leaned toward you again before she felt the bed give way beneath you both once more. this time, however, instead of laughter, there was a collective groan as you hit the floor with a thud.
"love you too, but how are we gonna sleep tonight?" you groaned as caitlin sighed.
"i'm calling a hotel, hold on," caitlin sighed as she got up from the broken bed and walked out of the room.
↳ make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated !
↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡
#caitlin clark x reader#caitlin clark#caitlin clark imagine#caitlin clark smut#caitlin clark headcannons#iowa wbb#wnba draft#iowa hawkeyes#iowa women’s basketball#iowa wcbb#wcbb x reader#ncaaw#ncaa wbb#indiana fever#wnba basketball#wnba#wbb
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“Oh, so your fingers worked when they were inside of me last night, but today they can’t text me back?”
I saw this on Instagram and tried to imagine how my five fav Hazbin men would react if you texted them this. I whipped this up pretty quickly so sorry if it’s crap, LOL <3
Alastor:
Alastor only has a phone so you can contact him whenever you need to, and he usually answers right away. But the one time he doesn’t because he’s out with Rosie, you decide to hit him up with this and he’s visibly horrified, flustered even, when he finally reads it.
“Is something the matter, Alastor?” Rosie asks, putting her teacup down as she notices the look on his face. “Oh my! Are you…blushing?”
“Excuse me for just a second,” Alastor says as he stiffly stands up, pushing his seat in and turning away, furiously typing at his phone.
“I am with Rosie. We will talk about this when I get home, understood?”
“Ok, I’ll be waiting for u <3.”
“Kiss your legs goodbye, mon chéri, because you will be unable to walk for a while.”
Lucifer:
Whenever you go out, you like to text Lucifer to see how he’s doing. This man answers FAST as fuck, that is why the one time he doesn’t you hit him up with this, trying to get his attention. When he finally checks his phone his heart instantly drops—I mean, what is he supposed to feel? He’s a blushing mess as he recalls what you did last night, but he’s also panicking, so he decides to call you.
“Hey, honey! I’m so, so sorry, I was in the middle of something,” Lucifer says, trying not to stutter, but you can still hear the nervousness in his voice. “My fingers work just fine, by the way, I can show you if you come back home—“
“Christ, Luci! I was just trying to get you to answer.”
“Pretty please?”
Husk:
Husk takes his sweet ass time responding to your texts, so the best way to reach him is to call him. However, it’s just one of those rare occasions where you can’t call him, that’s why you hit him up with this to try to get his attention. Husk has company at the bar, so when he finally sees your text he immediately turns his back to everybody, cursing under his breath as he tries to adjust himself through his pants.
“Oh, babydoll. Just wait until you get home,” Husk texts you back, pissed off but also slightly amused, especially when you answer him.
“Haha, ok…whatever u say old man :P.”
“You’re lucky Angel can't mind his own fucking business, otherwise I’d have something to say about that.”
Vox:
Unless he’s busy with something or he’s pissed off with you, Vox will answer your texts right away. The one time he forgets to tell you he has a meeting, you hit him up with this after trying to reach him for a while. Vox steals a glance at his phone and this is how he reacts to it in his head, his screen slightly glitching when he’s asked to put in his two cents about something because he’s flustered. As soon as the meeting is over with, though, he teleports to your room, utterly embarrassed.
“I was in a MEETING! What in the Hell were you thinking?”
“Hey, I didn’t know that, I swear!”
“Yeah, yeah, now come over here, sweetheart. I'll show you that my fingers work just fine.”
Adam:
Adam is 50/50 when it comes to answering your texts. Sometimes he’ll answer quickly, and sometimes he won’t, which can be frustrating. When you hit him up with this, it’s one of those times that he’s taking hours to see your texts, even leaving you on read when he finally opens them because his memory is shit. Adam is out with Lute, his eyes bugging out of his head when he decides to check his phone. I mean, hey, what’s up with that?
“Sir? Where are you going?” Lute asks him, watching him spread his wings, but Adam doesn’t answer, leaving before she can notice his boner.
“Hey, what the fuck is wrong with you? You gave me a boner in public, you stupid—!”
“Well, start answering your texts then, Adam! And don't you dare finish that sentence, or no sex for a week.”
“I'm so sorry, baby. I love you so much and I will answer your texts right away from now on.”
#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel imagine#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin hotel x you#hazbin hotel alastor#hazbin alastor#hazbin alastor x reader#alastor x reader#hazbin hotel lucifer#hazbin lucifer#hazbin lucifer x reader#hazbin hotel husk#hazbin husk#hazbin husk x reader#husk x reader#hazbin hotel vox#hazbin vox#hazbin vox x reader#vox x reader#hazbin hotel adam#hazbin adam#hazbin adam x reader#adam x reader#alastor#alastor the radio demon#lucifer morningstar#lucifer x reader
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please baby | c. s. |
chris sturniolo x fem!reader
summary: chris and y/n have always had what felt like a perfect relationship. that is, until a few weeks ago. chris had been treating y/n poorly, and after one especially hurtful conversation, she is forced to make a difficult decision. when chris comes to the realization that he is about to lose it all, will he swallow his pride and do what he needs to win her back?
warnings: established relationship; smut; angst; fighting; (relatively) toxic chris; crying; unprotected sex; fluff; 18+
notes: based on this request by 🎀. i've never rlly written an angsty fic before, so let me know what u all think! also wrote this super quick so i don't think it's my best work, but still i hope u enjoy <333
ᵕᵕᵕᵕ୨♡︎୧ᵕᵕᵕᵕ
Through tears, I stared blankly at my phone. My eyes had been glued to my lit up screen for the past two minutes — unmoving, and unable to register what I was reading. Even with blurry vision, Chris’ last message to me was seared into my memory.
Chris: Ffs Y/n, just shut up. I said I’ll get there when i get there jesus.
Just as my brimmed tears finally spilled over, so did the water I was boiling on the stove. The immediate steam and sizzling noises pulled me from my phone, and frustrated for more than one reason, I raced over to the stove and shoved the pot off of the element; leaving the boiling pasta noodles to sit in the water. Just looking at my failed attempt at dinner brought on a new level of pain, as it was a reminder of what I hoped that the night could be.
Chris, my boyfriend of almost one year, was supposed to be coming over tonight. I had been super excited, because both of our schedules had been especially busy lately and we hadn’t been able to spend much time together over the past three weeks, plus I had some good news to share with him about my work. I had wanted to make the night special, so I had decided to cook one of Chris’ favourite meals — chicken alfredo — to surprise him with once he arrived.
He was currently stuck at the warehouse for a merch meeting with Nick, Matt, and his manager, and he had told me that he would come over and spend the night once he was done there. That was a few hours ago, and I had been patiently waiting for an update from him until about thirty minutes ago, when I sent him a simple message asking if he had any idea when he would be done at the warehouse. Little did I know, that singular message would cause a massive storm to erupt.
Y/n: hey babe! just wondering if you have an idea on when you can come over?
Chris: Not rlly sure
Y/n: okay…rough estimate maybe?
Y/n: just have some things i need to get done before u get here hehe
Chris: I’ll get there when I get there.
Y/n: uh..is something wrong?
Chris: No why
Y/n: ur being kinda mean???
Chris: No I’m not
Y/n: ok
Chris: My god Y/n I don’t have time for this rn
Y/n: i just said ok
Y/n: you go ahead and go back to your meeting
Y/n: i was just asking for an update, that’s all.
Y/n: didn’t realize that was such a horrible thing.
Chris: Ffs Y/n, just shut up. I said I’ll get there when i get there jesus.
Even though I hate to admit it, this wasn’t the first time that Chris had been an absolute asshole to me lately. Just last week, he had started a fight that ended with him hanging up the phone on me; only to call back a little while later to apologize. And then a few days before that, he had put zero effort into making time for me when I had tried to make plans for us to go to the movies. And during all of this, he has been incredibly dry over messages. It had been bothering me for a while now, because to me it was clear that he was losing interest. I knew that our relationship would be far from perfect going in to it, considering Chris had never been in a real relationship before me, but deep down I hoped that it would always be as perfect as it was at the beginning. Unfortunately for my hopes and dreams, his actions — or lack thereof — were shattering.
I wasn’t some oblivious girlfriend either; it was clear to me that Chris was going through something. I knew that for a fact, but every time I tried to get him to open up to me about it all, he shut me down with lame excuses: “Oh, I’m just tired,” or, “I’ve just been stressed lately”. I figured that he just needed time, and that eventually he would come to me and explain exactly what had been going on so that I could help him through it.
But now, after his hurtful words to me tonight, I was seriously considering my other options. I had been in far too many toxic relationships in the past, and had learned that I deserve more than what I had been accepting. I wouldn’t let myself be Chris’ punching bag anymore, and I knew right then and there that I had an incredibly painful task to do.
Allowing myself to be overtaken by my build up of tears, I slowly walked into my bedroom; turning off the lights and covering myself with my comforter. My shoulders heaved as I let the tears stream down my face; my brain accepting what I needed to do but my body rejecting it in every way possible. Through the tears, I pulled out my phone and sent a quick text to Chris — telling him that I was tired and that he might as well not come at all tonight, but we should talk tomorrow — before curling into a ball and wallowing in my own sorrows.
I stayed in the exact same position for what felt like ages; allowing myself to get all of the emotions out now so that when I had to do what I had to do tomorrow I could do so without breaking down so hard. Eventually, my tears slowed and I felt my burning eyes begin to grow heavy. Sleep was beginning to overtake me, and as I gave into my exhaustion my mind filled with scenes of the nightmare that I was going to have to face tomorrow.
ᵕᵕᵕᵕ୨♡︎୧ᵕᵕᵕᵕ
I was startled out of my sleep by the sound of keys jangling from the direction of my front door. Disoriented, it took me a moment to be overtaken by the feeling of dread that came from hearing that noise. The only person who had a key to my apartment was Chris. Before, hearing his keys at my door filled my stomach with undeniable excitement — now, my stomach did anxious flips knowing what had to be done.
As I heard the door open and close, I rolled over so that I was facing away from my bedroom door and glued my eyes shut; pretending to still be asleep. I heard his soft footsteps on the other side of the door as he wandered through my dark apartment, before a hushed “shit!” broke the silence. After a few moments, I listened as his footsteps grew closer and closer to my bedroom door, and as I heard it slowly creak open, I braced for impact.
The room stayed silent, though I couldn’t really say that for sure since I couldn’t hear anything above the sound of my own racing heart in my ears. I did my best to stay completely still, though it felt like every part of my body was vibrating; waiting for his next move. Suddenly, I felt a shift in my mattress as his body leaned against it, and physically jumped at the feeling of his hand on my shoulder; shaking it gently.
“Y/n, wake up.” He spoke in a faux whisper, and, even though I had been pretending, I felt my body grow hot in anger that he would have the audacity to wake me from my sleep after showing up to my apartment uninvited. However, my body still not understanding that it wouldn’t belong to him much longer, I shot up from my place on the bed and searched for his eyes. The room was pitch black, but I could sense exactly where he was in front of me.
Rubbing my eyes, I searched the bed for my phone, checking the time to find that it was already nearly 2 a.m. I felt the mattress shift once again and watched his faint outline as he sat on his side of my bed. “Y/n, you left the stove on.” He was still whispering, and his sentence ended in a slight chuckle; clearly oblivious to the decision that I had made on my own just hours before.
Too heartbroken to really care about the stove, I shrugged my shoulders. “Whoops.” Was all I said to the silent room. “What happened? You fall asleep in the middle of making dinner or something?” His voice was still light-hearted, and was far from a tone that matched his previous texts to me. It made it so difficult for me to remember what I had to do.
“Turn the lamp on please.” I said simply, using every ounce of strength in my body to keep my tone monotonous. Chris stayed still for a moment, clearly thrown off by my behaviour. “Uh, okay.” He finally said as he leaned toward the bedside table closest to him and switched on the warm-toned light. After allowing my eyes time to adjust to the sudden brightness, they immediately fell on him.
Oh, my Chris.
His beautiful blue eyes were so kind and bright, his long hair was wet and messily draped across his forehead, and his matching oversized sweat set made me want nothing more than to curl into him and breathe him in. He stared at me blankly for a moment, clearly beginning to register that I was upset, before finally speaking. “I’m really sorry about earlier, baby. I had been in the meeting for hours and was getting really stressed out.” I felt the lump in my throat begin to grow. Some variation of that exact sentence had been the same excuse he had given me each and every time he had hurt me over the past few weeks, and it had lost its sincerity long ago. So, instead of giving into his cheap apology, I sat up in my bed and faced him; taking a deep breath before speaking.
“I have to tell you something. And I need you to let me say this without interrupting, or else I’m scared I won’t be able to go through with it. I’ve had to say this for a while now, and now that we are where we are I know it has to be done. So please, let me say it, okay?” His light eyes were focused intensely on me, he was clearly trying to figure out where this conversation was going. But finally, he swallowed before tentatively nodding his head. “O-okay.”
I closed my eyes, feeling my lower lip quiver as I tried to find my footing on this conversation. After taking a shaky breath, I finally found my voice. “I can’t do this anymore, Chris.” Immediately, my attempt at getting all my tears out of the way earlier proved to be a failure; because as soon as the heavy words left my mouth I broke down into sobs.
Over my crying, I heard Chris’ disbelieving voice. “What do you mean you’re done with this? With what? Me?” His voice cracked slightly as he spoke, clearly being hit with the same emotions that I was. I stayed silent — my eyes screwed shut as I wrapped my arms around my torso; doing my best to comfort myself. “Y/n, please tell me what you’re talking about.” He pleaded, and I felt him scoot closer to me on the bed; placing a hesitant hand on my knee.
After catching my breath, I wiped my tears away and opened my eyes to find his frantically searching my face like an uncertain creature. “I know you’re going through something right now,” My voice was coming out nearly silent, but I continued, “And I tried so hard to be there for you, I really did Chris. But you won’t talk to me! Instead, you’ve been taking out all of your frustrations on me and treating me like absolute shit. Do you really think that’s okay?” I fought the lump in my throat as I got my words out, his shattered face no help in that department. Frantically, Chris shook his head. “No. No, it’s not okay, baby, and I’m really sorry. But please, please don’t do this.” His tone tugged at my heart strings as his desperation grew more and more transparent.
Shaking my head and closing my eyes, I shut him down. “Can you tell me why you’ve been acting the way you have?” I knew my question was pointless before I even asked it, but his silence confirmed it. Releasing an ironic chuckle, I continued. “I promised myself that I would never let another man treat me badly. I’ve put up with it far too many times, and no matter how much I love you, Chris, I can’t allow you to speak to me the way you have been lately.”
I opened my eyes and felt my heart sink at his ghostly expression, clearly on the verge of losing his shit. I brought a hand up to his cheek and stroked it for a moment, and as I did he closed his eyes and let a few tears fall. “I want you to get better, I really do. But I clearly can’t help you, so you need to do it on your own.” My own words felt like a stab in the chest, and I couldn’t help the tears as they streamed down my face. “Come to me when you’ve worked through your shit, and we can see if we can repair things. But for now, I need you to leave.”
At that, Chris’ eyes shot open in a panic and he immediately grabbed onto my leg. “No, Y/n, please. Don’t do this.” I turned my head away from him as his desperation became too much to bear. His hands traveled across my body in anguish, clearly losing all control of his emotions as the reality of our situation began to set in for him. His body slid off of the bed as he dissolved into tears against my comforter. Still having the instinct to comfort him, I scooted towards the edge of the bed, where I let my legs stretch out beside him as I ran my hands through his beautiful curls.
“Please, please baby, I swear to god I can’t do this shit without you.” He wretchedly pleaded with me, clutching my leg and trailing distressed kisses along it. I looked up at the sky, too pained by the scene that was playing out in front of me. “Chris, please, I need you to go.” I begged him, needing to put him out of his misery so that I could hurt in private. He maintained his grasp on my leg, sobbing inconsolably against it. I gave him a moment, in which he slowly began to regain control of his emotions. I watched as his sobbing grew quieter and his breathing slowed, before finally watching as he pulled himself up to his feet; the weight of our conversation evident in the way he held himself weakly.
He glanced down at me quickly, his blue eyes red and puffy, before turning away in what looked like shame. In utter silence, he turned and began walking slowly in the direction of my bedroom door. With his hand on the door knob, he paused for a moment. “I’m sorry.” His words were so quiet I could have easily missed them, but the sincerity cut through my heart like a knife. That sincerity hadn’t been present in any of the other apologies he gave me, and I was gutted that it appeared too late.
And then just like that, he was gone. I felt all the air leave my chest at the realization of what I had just done, and let my body fall back against my bed as tears once again poured down my cheeks. I couldn’t help but immediately question whether or not I had done the right thing. Was I a horrible person for abandoning the man I loved when he was so clearly dealing with something? Did I allow my fears of repeating my past distort my current reality? Were the things he said to me really that bad?
I was pulled out of my tormenting thoughts by a soft voice coming from my doorway.
“My meeting today wasn’t about merch.”
That was all that he said. That was all it took for my heart to begin to beat for him again. One small hint of vulnerability. Feeling humiliated internally, I sat up on my elbows and found him hovering in the doorway. “Talk to me about it Chris.” I sounded exacerbated even to my own ears, feeling frustrated from all of the overwhelming emotions that the evening held. Tentatively, he walked over to the bed and sat beside me on the edge, arms resting on his knees. After clearing his throat, he began to explain. “The meeting today wasn’t about merch, it wasn’t really about anything to be honest.” Confused, I waited in silence for him to continue.
“A few weeks ago, Laura brought up the idea of going on another tour. A European tour.” He paused for a moment. “Nick and Matt immediately agreed and wanted to start planning everything so that we could do it this summer, but I said I didn’t want to do it.” I watched the back of his head, slightly shocked by his words since I knew that he had enjoyed the previous tours so much. “We would be overseas for a month, and I didn’t want to be so far away from you for that long. So I told them I didn’t wanna do it.” He took a deep breath. “Now, Matt and Nick are super pissed at me. They’ve both been giving me the silent treatment for weeks outside of the few times when they’ve just tore me a new one. And sure, we’ve all fought before, but never this bad. It’s been going on for so long, and I feel like I’ve lost sight of everything without having them be there for me.” His voice grew thick with emotion, and I fought the urge to cry along with him.
“Things have gotten so bad between us, that Laura forced us all to come in tonight to basically have a supervised argument. We sat there for hours, Y/n, just screaming at each other. And we got nowhere. I stood firm in what I wanted and so did they, so that’s why it went on for so long. And that’s also why I have been treating you like a complete dick lately. Because even though you had no clue what was going on, I think a part of me was kinda blaming you for all this shit. And I know that wasn’t fair, I really do. I just didn’t know how to tell you all of this because I’ve never been in a situation like this before.”
He turned to look at me, grabbing at my hand that was lying dormant in the space between us. “And I’m so, so sorry that I treated you the way I did. You didn’t deserve it. At all. But please baby, please don’t leave me. Because if you do, I will be completely lost. You are my anchor, and I need you to be there for me.” Tears rolled down my face as his voice cracked in desperation. “And I swear, baby, I won’t treat you like shit ever again. If you can’t believe me, and if you’re really truly done, I’ll understand. But please, Y/n, if there’s any part of you that believes me, please don’t leave.” He dropped his head into my lap, wrapping his arm around my waist and gripping onto my oversized t-shirt. Out of instinct, I brought my hand to his face and began stroking it softly; wiping away his tears as I did.
We stayed that way for a long time, both of us sniffling, heaving messes. I couldn’t lie, his honesty truly impacted me. I knew that he had to have gone against every single one of his instincts to finally tell me what had been going on in his life, and the fact that he did meant so much to me. I knew that Chris was extremely reliant on his brothers being a constant in his life, and couldn’t even imagine how lost he must feel knowing that they’re against him. His problem was much more severe than I thought it would have been prior to him opening up, and I felt an overwhelming amount of empathy for him. I knew that his poor treatment of me — as wrong as it was — had been completely out of character, and as I sat there stroking his soft cheek, I decided that I would believe him.
“Come up here.” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. Immediately, Chris lifted his head off of my thighs and sat up, his face inches from mine. Without a moment of hesitation, I leaned forward and engulfed his lips with my own. He immediately reciprocated, and both of our tongues worked in unison to lap up the salty taste of each other’s tears. Chris leaned forward, encouraging me to fall back against my pillows as he continued his passionate assault on my lips. His mouth travelled down my neck, where I shuddered as I felt him place sucks and nibbles sure to leave a trail of purple bruises. His body was warm on top of mine, and I had never before felt so present with him; so aware of his every movement.
He moved down my body, stopping briefly at my chest to remove my shirt, before continuing down below my waist. With his tongue, he created a path from just below my belly button to my right hip bone, where he left another purple bruise; causing my skin to break out in goose bumps. Lifting my hips, he wasted no time in pulling my boy shorts off of my body and leaving me completely bare. He continued to leave gentle kisses along each square inch of my body surrounding my core, but making sure to leave the place where I needed his mouth the most completely untouched.
I began to grow impatient, my body temperature increasing as my body filled with arousal. As he placed a kiss on my inner thigh, I bucked my hips up in frustration; practically begging for contact. Noticing my agitation, Chris almost immediately obliged, and I gasped out in pleasure as his tongue began working its magic against my clit. With each hand holding up my thighs, Chris swirled his tongue relentlessly against my bundle of nerves. I struggled to keep my body still as his movements continued, and failed miserably once he inserted two of his fingers into my core. “Fuck Chris, t-that’s so good.” I moaned out as his tongue and fingers worked my cunt in harmony. The wet sounds of my arousal grew louder and louder as I began to approach my orgasm, and in reflex my hands tangled in his hair; doing everything I could to keep him exactly where I needed him.
“Gonna cum, baby.” I cried out, and his encouraging hum against my clit was enough to get me there. My back arched off of the bed as my body began to convulse. To keep me in place, Chris took his free hand and placed it firmly on my lower stomach; causing me to scream out in pleasure. His mouth and fingers continued to push me through my orgasm, and didn’t stop even after my nerves became over sensitive. “C-Chris please. Can’t take anymore.” I struggled to get out the words, but he listened. Detaching his mouth from my core, he dragged his body back up my own and came face to face with me.
With the glean of my arousal still on his lips, he kissed me so deep I felt my lungs inflate. I could taste myself on his tongue, and my eyes nearly rolled to the back of my head from the intensity of the moment. I broke the kiss for only a moment to pull his hoodie over his head; relishing in the feeling of his bare chest against my own. Through his sweatpants, I could feel his bulging member press against my pelvis, and I reached in between our bodies and pulled his waistband down along with his boxers. Now completely free, his cock dribbled pre-cum down my stomach. With my hand still between us, I collected what was left of his fluid along his slit before slowly stroking my hand up and down his swollen shaft.
His breath hitched as I continued my movements, and he thoughtlessly bucked his hips into my hand to increase the friction along his trembling member. My hand twisted around his dick for a few more pumps, before I slowly guided it down toward my entrance. Once Chris felt the heat of my core at the tip of his cock, he looked down at me with darkened eyes — still slightly puffy from his previous tears — and dropped his jaw as he began to slide into me.
I gasped at the feeling of my walls stretching around his sizeable girth, and released a breathy moan as he bottomed out. Laying on top of me, he grabbed both sides of my face in between his hands and held it firmly as he began thrusting into me. His eyes never left mine as his hips rolled into me, and I watched in ecstasy at the pleasure visible on his face — as I’m sure he was doing to me. Our bodies smacked together in a steady rhythm and the wet sounds filled the room, adding an additional sensation to my arousal.
“I-I’m so sorry, baby.” Grunted Chris through deep thrusts. “It’s — oh fuck — it’s okay Chris.” I replied as I wrapped my legs around his waist. “Just please — please tell me you’re mine.” His voice sounded desperate and choppy, most likely caused by a combination of arousal and real distress. His choice of words and the tone at which he said them caused my stomach to do a flip, and I felt my second orgasm approach. Fighting the urge to give into the overwhelming feeling, I reached up and swiped his glistening lip with my thumb. “I’m yours baby, always.” I managed to respond through my cries of pleasure. Chris smiled down at me lazily before burying his face in my neck; leaving sloppy, breathy kisses along its thin skin.
My walls began to pulse and my skin started to feel like it was being lit on fire; both clear signs that I was extremely overstimulated as I was approaching my orgasm. “Shit, gonna cum again.” I blurted out just as I was hit with a tsunami of an orgasm. My legs tightened around his waist and my nails dug into his arms as I fought to keep my head above water, but my mind grew fuzzy as I spewed guttural profanities into the room as I came in waves.
It didn’t take long for Chris’ orgasm to follow, and that was made clear by his throaty grunts and sloppy pace before he stopped entirely; shouting breathless 'I love yous' into my neck as his cock shot its warm fluid deep inside of me. He eventually pulled out, before curling two fingers into me and shoving all of our conjoined juices up to my cervix. His eyes stayed glued to my cunt as he did so, seemingly in awe of the view.
“You’re all mine, and I’m all yours.” He said it so quiet that he might have just been saying it to himself, before he leaned forward and planted a soft kiss on the crest of my heat; earning a full-body flinch from me.
He came back up to the top of the bed where he laid down beside me, pulling me towards his chest and running a hand up and down my naked back. I felt so secure in his arms — his familiar smell filling my nostrils and calming my mind — that I nearly forgot everything that had happened prior to the past 15 minutes or so. That is, until he spoke.
“So, are we okay?” His voice was tentative, and he was very clearly afraid to hear my answer. I uncurled myself from his body so that I could look up at his lovely face, his desperate eyes scanning my poker face for any sort of hint.
“You will never, ever, speak to me like that again, no matter what.” I kept my voice firm, even when his face immediately relaxed into a grin. “I swear, I won’t baby.” He responded, trying to tuck me back into his chest, but I pushed back slightly. “And, I need you to talk to me about shit you’re going through, Chris. I’m your girlfriend. That’s my job. You need to promise me, you will come to me about anything, and I will do everything I can to help you through it.” He continued to gaze at me, though his wavering eyes and his chewing on his lower lip made it clear that the idea made him anxious. “Promise me, Chris.” I repeated, making it clear how serious I was.
Finally, Chris nodded his head. “I promise, baby. I’ll tell you everything.” I smiled, then, finally feeling secure in our relationship for the first time in weeks. “Then yes, we’re okay.” I responded before planting a soft kiss to his pink lips. “And you and your brothers are going to be okay, too.” His worried expression deepened at the reminder of his conflict with Nick and Matt. “We’ll talk about it more tomorrow once we get some rest, but we can make the tour work. You know, I’ve always wanted to visit Europe.” I watched as his lips began to turn up into a soft smile. “Plus,” I leaned forward to whisper in his ear, “I wouldn’t mind being your groupie.”
He dissolved into giggles at that. “But what about your job?” He asked tentatively. I shrugged. “I actually got promoted today. I was gonna tell you earlier, but y’know.” His face fell momentarily. “I got a raise, but more importantly I got more benefits. Including thirty vacation days.” His face lit up once again, and it was almost like I could see the weight lift off of his shoulders before he attacked my face with kisses. “So let’s have another meeting with Laura and your brothers tomorrow and work this all out. I can come, and we can fix this easily together.” Tears welled in his eyes, and he nodded his head before kissing me hard. “I love you, Y/n.”
I curled myself back into his chest and sighed, taking in the feeling of him mindlessly drawing random shapes on my back. This was the Chris that I knew and loved, and I knew that this is who he really was. He wasn’t perfect, but I never expected him to be. Problems come with every relationship, and of course there was never any guarantee, but I had a feeling that this night would vastly change our relationship for the better.
ᵕᵕᵕᵕ୨♡︎୧ᵕᵕᵕᵕ
#sturniolo triplets#sturniolo smut#chris sturniolo#christopher sturniolo#chris sturniolo fanfic#chris sturniolo x reader#sturniolo x reader#chris sturniolo smut#chris sturniolo x you#chris sturniolo angst#chris sturniolo fluff
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He Will Hope
Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x reader
Summary: Feyd is obsessed with his bride from the moment he sees her, but on their wedding night he finds out she might not feel the same. (Angst, but hopeful ending)
Warnings/Notes: Feyd POV, pre-smut and smutty-ish intentions (if that makes sense? idk, ignore me), instantly-in-love Feyd, unwanted marriage, baby(heir) talk, typos. Can absolutely be read alone, but also serves as something of a prequel to Do You Love? (same world, but big time skip), so I tried to kind of echo that with specific lines.
Words: 1500
Feyd-Rautha Masterlist
You’re so…beautiful. He didn’t expect a peace offering to be this perfect. Yes, he knew his bride would be a daughter of a Great House, but you are one of many sisters and Feyd did not imagine your father would send him the loveliest of his bunch.
It’s a loveliness that has you sticking out like a sore thumb on Giedi Prime. Hair and makeup and wedding dress styled in the traditions of your home world glue all eyes to you as you walk down the aisle, and he likes that there is so much attention on you. It makes his inability to cease staring more acceptable.
Harkonnens are not meant to be enthralled by their brides at first glance. Discouraged, even, from caring about their appearance at all. ‘Brides are meant for breeding,’ his uncle told him as a child, ‘It does not matter what they look like.’ But he was not told what to do or how to act in the event the bride makes his heart involuntarily skip a beat.
Maybe if your heart was reacting in the same manner navigating this new feeling would be less intimidating, but the tears streaming down your cheeks suggest that's far from the case. You can barely look at him and he’s not sure you would be able to speak if it was required of you, but thankfully, verbal agreements are not part of marriage ceremonies on Giedi Prime.
When he takes hold of your hand and slices your palm with his knife, you give no indication of pain. You are supposed to do the same to him but you seem nervous enough as it is, so he makes the three-inch long slash in his skin for you before pressing his palm against yours. The mixing of blood is a swearing of fidelity from husband to wife and wife to husband; a tradition and promise that wore down with time as concubines became more common. But he will not do that to you. You will be his one, his only, and if he can help it, he will be yours.
He barely detects the words declaring you married. They're dull and bubbly in his ears as if he's sunk under the surface of his bath water because he's too focused on your mouth. Your plush lips are pink and plump and glistening, and he wants them. So he takes them before he's told to do so.
You taste different than the Harkonnen women he’s had. There is salt from tears, but something distinctly you seeps through. It's sweeter. A bit intoxicating. The kind of taste that collars and leashes the unruliest of men, and he wants more. Much more. But there are too many eyes, some of which are full of relief at the match finally solidified while others are prying and suspicious. If he keeps his lips on yours too long, questions will begin to form from certain witnesses—Does he like her? Does he want her? Can she be used? Can she control him?—and the answer will be plainly obvious.
When he breaks the kiss, your eyelashes flutter with the gentle opening of your eyes and he knows then that nothing—no convincing from advisors, no threats from his uncle, no hatred on your end—could ever have him willing to detach himself and use you for the sake of an heir only to discard you later. You are his wife now, you will be the Baroness upon his uncle’s death, and he will protect you from anyone who values you for the sole purpose of providing a child.
—
He sees that your assigned servants have quickly learned to manage your hair and clothing. By the time they deliver you to him, the pins have been removed from the twist on your head, letting the strands hang loose to frame your face, and you’ve been unstitched from that heavy gown to be dressed in night clothes from your home. He provided you with a nightgown, so he wonders if wearing the thin dress was your choice or your parents' idea to make you undeniably enticing, but either way, it’s effective.
What drapes over your body is nothing like the opaque blacks and straight lines of Harkonnen attire. It's intricate both in color and design; flowing fabric that shimmers when you make the slightest movements and, at the moment, does little to hide your shape and curves.
As you stand in front of him, patiently awaiting instructions, he can only stare at what’s on display. Pebbled nipples, a plane of smooth skin down to your navel, your slit and the folds between your legs—he wants it all. All of you. Now. Here. Wherever he can have you.
Rising from the chair where he’d been waiting, he dissolves the space between you. His arm snakes around your waist. His hand slides across your cheek to the back of your head. Lips slam into yours, chests meeting despite that sliver of fabric, and he tastes that taste again, instinctually feeling a need to lift his chin, bare his neck, and let you tighten that collar.
It takes you a few seconds but when your lips start to move, he kisses you harder, pulls you closer, weaves his fingers through your hair and lightly tugs. He guides you backward toward the bed, skin warming at the image of sliding the nightgown down your body. That warmth fans into pure fire and he can’t stop kissing you, can’t stop taking from you, collecting what little you’re willing to give him. Two of his fingers tuck themselves under one strap of the nightgown and begin to slip it down your shoulder.
But then he stops.
He stops because your lips freeze.
He stops because you're starting to shake under his fingertips.
He pulls back to look at you and it’s undeniable, so terribly undeniable, and he feels a bit ill. “You don’t want this,” he states.
You don’t answer; you just stare up at him with those doe eyes that he can now see are full of fear, and his heart squeezes. His gut tightens. He suddenly has the urge to throw things, break things, watch things shatter to pieces because you don’t want him. His own wife doesn’t want his touch and he does not like this—not at all—but you’re scared, and he doesn’t like that even more.
Sighing, he resets the strap on your shoulder, drops his hands from your body, and steps away.
“I'll leave you alone,” he says. But as he passes by you, you grab onto his wrist.
“We have to,” you rush out. “They'll know if we don't.”
He shakes his head. “They won't know anything that happens between us unless I allow it,” he tells you.
“B–But they expect an heir.”
“Yes. And eventually, we will have to produce one. That does not mean we have to share a bed tonight if that is not what you want, and it's clear that is not what you want,” he says a little too harshly. He isn’t trying to be snippy, none of this is your fault, but it hurts, and not in the way he enjoys.
You suck in a sharp breath as if preparing to argue, but then something shifts in your eyes. Instead, you say, “Where will you go?”
“The adjoining room,” he answers, nudging his head to the door on the opposite wall: the room for the concubines that he will never take. You turn to get a look.
“Oh,” you swallow. “O-Ok.”
He grants himself a few more moments to study you, to soak in your soft and delicate features and the swollen lips he cannot have before he walks away, leaving you behind for the bed he had no intention of ever sleeping in.
When he reaches the door, he glances over his shoulder to get one last look. You’re facing away from him, sitting on the mattress with your head low, your back arched forward and arms wrapped around your middle. You look small like that, slowly huddling into a ball, and he’d do anything to make it stop. Because you are his. His wife. His na-Baroness. He’s well aware he’ll fall for you in no time—it’s already begun—and he wants you to be happy with him.
But you're not. And that already threatens the predictability of your future together. These foreign feelings he has for you are not guaranteed to be requited; something he isn't sure how to accept, and yet he may not have a choice. He cannot force your affection. He cannot demand you grow to love him. All he can do is try and hope that one day, he will win you over.
So that is what he does.
---
@avidreader73 @alwaysadreamingoptimist @lost-in-fiction-like-ur-mom @workof-a-rr-t
#feyd rautha x reader#feyd rautha x you#feyd rautha#dune part 2#austin butler#dune 2#dune#feyd rautha harkonnen
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Rich Part 22
Summary: Neighbour/Older!Harry. Y/n meets Anne, her Dad finds out the truth and an unexpected encounter has devastating results.
Warning: Smut, bj (the beginning of one anyway), penetration, semi-public sex, exhibitionism, dirty talk. Mentions of revenge p*rn, Ethan, bad mental health. There is also a detailed account of a panic attack and negative thinking so please be mindful of this. PLEASE lmk if I've missed anything ❤️
Word count: 21k+
Author's note: Look I'll always say I'm an angst writer not an angst reader so I hope you guys enjoy reading a bit of it... At this point Rich won't be finishing up at Part 25 as expected because I just don't think I'll fit everything I want to within three more chapters so you're welcome I guess. ANYWAY happy reading muah
- Find Series Masterlist Here -
- Find my General Masterlist here -
“Okay… y’ready?” Harry asked, bopping his knee anxiously.
“I’m ready.” You confirmed, smiling.
You totally weren’t ready.
This was the first meet-the-parents thing you had ever done in your life and you were fucking terrified. You didn’t want to come across as too immature or young but you also wanted to be yourself. Compared to Harry you were young and even if you had things in common, you were as Gen Z as they came and the last thing you wanted was Anne thinking you were some kid.
From what Harry told you, Anne wasn’t a judgmental person. She was a sweetheart and seemed so gentle and kind. Like your mum but without the hint of crazy. He did say Anne liked a good glass of wine, which both you and your mum enjoyed as well so that was one thing you had in common.
You were definitely overthinking it way too hard but Harry being nervous made you nervous. You just wanted her to like you. It was a lot harder meeting her for the first time via Facetime too because there wasn’t really a lot of external stimuli to chat about if things got quiet. You weren’t sharing a meal or doing an activity where the conversation could drift naturally. This all felt so formal.
Harry assured you that he’d jump in at any point it got quiet but that he didn’t think he’d need to because Anne loved to talk about anything and everything. That made you feel a bit better but you still felt like your inside matched how Harry looked on the outside. Anxious.
You didn’t really want to make it worse by talking about your own nerves, especially since Harry had been talking about it all damn day. He kept bringing it up through text and called you double what he usually did while he was at work. He was trying to appear calm and in every conversation he was making sure you were still okay with meeting his mum.
You knew that it was because he was nervous about it. Harry was practically losing sleep over it and he didn’t really understand why. He didn’t expect to be so nervous about it, especially since he wasn’t phased by your parents knowing about you two.
He just loved you so much, so fucking much, and you were one of the most important people in his life. The most important. His mum was one of the other important people and maybe that’s why he was all in knots about it.
His mum’s opinion on you mattered a great deal to him and even if it wouldn’t change how he felt about you, or whether he continued seeing you, it still mattered. She is the closest family member he has and he wants you two to get along more than anything else.
Deep down, all along all Harry ever wanted was a family. Maybe not the kids and nuclear family model, but family. He could play it off and think that meaningless hookups and money could satisfy him for the rest of his life and for a while it did. It truly did. But meeting you changed everything and now all he wanted was his family together.
He wanted a life with friends that he loved, a partner he adored who adored him back and he wanted his family back together again. Harry had two out of three of those things and now his family was the last thing he needed to tackle.
Harry knew Anne would love you because he loved you, but he was still riddled with anxiety. The cause was more than just this initial FaceTime of course, but this was one of the many things he was having a hard time dealing with. He felt blessed that he had you to support him through everything.
You placed a gentle hand on his knee, applying a little pressure so it would stop shaking. “Are you ready?”
Harry nodded, grabbing your chin affectionately, “yeah, m’love. Just haven’t introduced many partners to her before. Not that any of them were nearly as important as you.”
Not that any of them were as important as you.
Oh did you fucking love this man.
“I hope she likes me” you whispered, puckering your lips against his thumb when he brushed it against your mouth.
“She will.” He assured you while smiling fondly. “What’s not to like, baby?”
“thank you…” you whispered, pecking him quickly. “I love you.”
“Love you.” He murmured, wanting to say so much more only to be interrupted by the ringing sound of his laptop. It was far easier to do FaceTime with both of you on the bigger screen and this way you wouldn’t be as squished up.
You quickly adjusted your hair over your shoulders so it laid nicely, trying not to bite away the lipgloss you applied specifically for this call. You wanted to look nice to meet Anne for the first time, even if it was via FaceTime.
The screen lit up with Anne’s gorgeous face and smile when Harry answered the call. His hand fell to your thigh immediately, reaching for your hand to intertwine your fingers together.
“Hi mum.” Harry greeted with a bright smile. His entire demeanor lit up when he saw her and you could visibly feel his body relax a little. You had never seen Harry interact with any family before so it was just so… nice to watch. You felt warm inside even after two words.
“Harry! Oh my gosh, your beard. It’s so lush. You look wonderful.” Anne beamed, her face bright and so warm. You had seen photos of her before, even stalked her Instagram a little to see what vibe she gave off and she was even lovelier than usual.
“Thanks,” Harry sheepishly responded, stroking the stubble on his jaw. He didn’t grow it out very often, at least not to the length it had gone now. It was only when he was on holiday usually. But you liked his moustache and the feeling of his facial hair between your thighs so he was more than happy to give you what you wanted. Harry liked the look too, he just preferred being cleanly shaved for work.
You were obviously more important than his job.
“And you must be y/n! Oh, you’re gorgeous.” She cooed, looking right at you, “She’s gorgeous, H.” Her eyes flicked to Harry.
“I know. Absolutely breathtaking” Harry brought your intertwined fingers to his mouth and kissed the back of your hand before setting it back down on your knee.
“Thank you.” You blushed, “it’s so nice to meet you, Anne. Harry’s told me so much about you.” You squeezed Harry’s hand, feeling like you were in some sort of job interview. You were lost for words and so nervous. You couldn’t relax even if you wanted to.
“Oh, I’m sure he has, darling.” She laughed. It was so warm and homely, much like Harry’s. “He’s such a storyteller, aren’t you, H? Always has been y’know, even as a kid. He used to dress up and perform plays for Gem and me. Oh, he was so cute!”
“Mum.” Harry scolded. Of course, it barely took a minute before she spoke about his childhood. He knew if you were all in her kitchen she’d have the photo albums out before you even arrived.
“Oh shush, you. Don’t pretend you didn’t love it. He was such a little actor. A good singer too.” Anne replied, happy to be sharing stories about her son with an actual girlfriend of his.
“Yeah he is,” you agreed, “He always leads our singing in the car.” You finished off with a giggle.
“I do not.” Harry defended.
“You so do! He always leads, Anne. Always.” You laughed, earning
“That’s not true, I sing plenty thank you very much.” Harry defended, knowing you were just riling him up when in fact your car singalongs were some of his favourite moments and a regular occurrence when you were out and about.
“Mhmm. Sure.” You teased, earning a pinch on your thigh in reprimand.
“We’ve got one of those little karaoke machines here, y/n, and every Christmas Harry used to do a singalong with all the kids. He said it was because they loved it but we all knew it was because he did.” Anne smiled fondly at the memory, but you could feel the sudden shift in the air at the mention of Christmas. Something Harry hadn’t been to for years. “Anyway, that was a while ago…” she brushed off, but you could feel the way Harry was tensed against you. “Harry tells me you’re studying? Marketing, right?”
“Yeah,” you confirmed, giving Harry’s hand a comforting squeeze.
He wrapped his arm around your waist to hold onto you and intertwined your fingers with his other hand. It immediately made him calm down again. He wasn’t usually so sensitive but with so much going on and the possibility of him actually being at his family’s Christmas this year, it hit him a little harder than usual. It wasn’t Anne’s intention at all and Harry knew that, but it was hard to think about the years he missed.
“I’m doing a double bachelor's degree in marketing and arts. It’s my final year so I’ve only got one semester left and then I’m free. Finally.” You finished with a nervous laugh.
“Oh wow, that’s amazing You must be so proud of your achievements,” She gushed like she was proud of you and it was the first time she had ever met you. Her energy was so kind and warm, exactly how Harry described. “I remember from Harry how hard it can be to be in university. All that study and stress. You’re working as well, aren’t you?”
“Um thank you,” You tucked your hair behind your ear, feeling a little shy at her sudden praise. “And I am, yeah. I’m working at a cafe on campus a couple days a week, sometimes more depending on my workload. It can be a lot sometimes but I’m trying to make the most out of it. I’ve made really good friends and we all live close by or have classes together so I want to have as much fun as I can before it’s all over. It’s crazy how fast it’s gone already.”
“Well from what Harry’s told me, you’re smart and very capable. I’m sure you’ll do great.” She replied earnestly, “do you have plans for after graduation?”
“I’m not 100% sure yet, actually. I always had this idea of going straight into work and if I find something I’m interested in I’ll definitely go for it but I don't know… I don’t think I’m in a rush to get there. I’d like to travel for a bit, maybe take some time to figure out what I want to do. I’d like to do my masters eventually as well so I’m not sure if I want to do that before going into full-time work or work a bit then do it. I’ll see how I go, really.” you smiled sheepishly, looking at Harry briefly. His entire focus was on you and he was squeezing your waist and hand encourgagingly. “For now I just want to get good results.”
“She’s incredibly smart and talented,” Harry complimented, kissing your temple lovingly. You blushed at the show of affection, especially in front of his mum. You loved it, you really did, it was just so unfamiliar to be so open in front of family. You two hadn’t even seen your mum together yet. “Whatever she does, she’ll be amazing at.”
“I’m sure you will be, y/n.” Anne echoed, feeling her own heart burst with how affectionate Harry was being with you. She had never seen him like this with anyone before. Not since he was a young boy anyway.
“Thank you…” You whispered, smiling up at him. His gaze was so loving and so sincere. It was like you were his entire universe. You were getting way too flustered and at this point, you still hadn’t asked Anne any questions. You wanted the attention off yourself already. “And what about you, Anne? Harry told me you write children’s novels?”
“And illustrate.” She proudly added, “Oh it’s my passion…”
The phone call lasted a good hour. It was just a natural back-and-forth conversation between you all that felt so comfortable and so homely. After you finally relaxed and Harry did as well, it was easy to enjoy talking to her. Anne was so lovely and so sweet and funny, you already loved her. Archie of course got some limelight and you were able to show pictures of your family and friends and share so many details about your life.
It was only the first meeting and you felt like you were connecting well with her already. Even though Harry said he’d jump in if it got quiet, it just never did. You two were as chatty as anything and Harry barely got to speak unless he was directly addressed. It was wonderful. Anne never made your age seem like it was an issue, though you could tell she was surprised when you told her exactly how old you were.
Harry told her more about you after you agreed to meet her and showed her photos of you and all that, but at that point, you realised that he never specified how old you were. You thought he would’ve been completely honest about your age gap and for the most part, he must’ve been, but it was a little surprising to see that look on her face.
It was only fleeting and if you didn’t see her surprised reaction, you would’ve never known because her attitude didn’t change. She seemed genuine in every way, but you hoped that she didn’t have any ill feelings towards you because of your age. It would’ve been understandable of course, especially considering your mum’s reaction to Harry, but you really liked her already and you wanted her to like you back.
“Alright mum, I’ll talk to you soon.” Harry bid his goodbye.
“Bye, darling. It was so nice meeting you too, y/n. Hopefully, it isn’t too long before I get to see you in person.” Anne waved into the camera, blowing you two a kiss through the screen.
“Hopefully not.” You smiled while waving back to her “Bye, Anne.”
The screen turned black once the call ended, leaving you two (and Archie) alone again. “So… how do you think it went?” You asked after a moment of silence.
He grinned and cupped your face with both hands to look at you, “how do I think it went? Baby, you two didn’t stop talking the entire hour. I think it went perfectly.”
“Really?” You whispered, pecking his mouth before pulling back just enough so your noses were brushing together. “You think she liked me? She seemed so surprised when I told her how old I am.”
Harry nodded, “I think she loved you. I told you she would.”
“I hope so because I loved her. She was so sweet.”
“She’ll love you saying that.” Harry grinned, humming before kissing you once more. He closed his eyes while pulling away, “mmh. I love you for saying that. I love you anyway, but even more now that you love my mum.”
“And here I thought you couldn’t get more obsessed with me. All it took was impressing your mother and you’re kissing me and-”
Funny enough, it was a kiss paired with a firm hand around your throat that interrupted your words. The kiss changed from a smooth brush of your lips to something that had you whimpering and gasping for air in a matter of seconds. “I am obsessed with you.” He murmured, pulling away just enough to say the words before he kissed you again. You smiled into it and gripped his hair in a firm tug.
“Can I… can I say something that might make you more obsessed with me?” You offered, panting a little while letting your hand fall to his thigh to give it a firm squeeze.
“Impossible but I’m listening?” He grinned, leaning back against the couch. He grabbed onto your waist and pulled you towards him, hooking his hand under your knee to drag you across his lap so you were straddling him. It wasn’t meant to be sexual necessarily, just because he wanted you as close as possible.
His arms wrapped around you as soon as you were settled and he was happy to slide them under your-well his nice knit jumper you stole for the call. It didn’t seem necessary to put a bra on when you two were just spending time at home today and only your shoulders up would be shown in the call. He was able to feel the entire expanse of your bare back and how soft your skin was. It was driving him mad.
“I’ve been thinking… about London.” You swallowed thickly, a little nervous about the conversation you were about to have, “About Italy…”
It was hard to communicate properly when his hands were rubbing all over your back and sides, his fingers even grazing the sides of your breasts for a moment before returning backwards. You had been thinking about the trip intensely over the last couple of days since he first brought it up to you and all the pros and cons of going.
Your main concern was his family, but it wasn’t just that. When you two spoke about it, it was before your mum knew and there was so much uncertainty surrounding your parents. You knew you wouldn’t have been able to go on the trip without telling them about it and you couldn’t exactly do that without telling them the truth. Now that your mum knew and was happy for you… it kind of felt like that situation wasn’t a reason not to go on the trip anymore.
University was another concern but Harry was right in saying that the trip would barely overlap with your classes. Your semester ended just over a week before the trip, as did your assignments. You only had two exams and they were both luckily early on in the timetable, like even your university wanted you to go on this trip. They didn’t leave you much space for when Harry wanted to leave, barely a few days but you could manage.
As for money… Harry already offered to cover everything… multiple times. You knew that if you did end up going it was non-negotiable for him to foot the bill as he simply wouldn’t have it any other way and while the thought kind of mortified you, you also knew he only offered because he genuinely wanted to do it. Besides, even if Harry offered to pay for it all, you still wanted to have your own money and realistically… you did. With how Harry paid you for months while you dog sat for him, you had really healthy savings and while most of it was reserved for actual living and your trip at the end of the year, you could afford to spend some of it.
There were more reasons to go than not to go and you hoped that the concerns you did have could just be talked about.
“Yeah? What about it?” Harry scratched your back lightly, making goosebumps rise all over your skin until you shivered against him.
“Would you… would you still want me to go? If I could?”
“You want to come? Seriously?” His eyes widened in glee and he perked up instantly.
You laughed softly while playing with the curls at the back of his head, “I do and I can make it work with school it’s just… are you sure it’s not too soon? To… y’know, see your house and your childhood town and for us to spend an entire month together? We’ve only been together a couple of months. What if you get sick of me?”
“I’d never get sick of you.” He defended with a soft smile, hugging you close to him. “I want you to come more than anything, baby. Truly. It would make me so happy.”
“And what about your family? I want to support you and I’m happy to be there for you but I don’t want to overstep and I don’t want to… I don’t know, like, take away anything from your healing. I still think this is something you should do by yourself.”
“I understand what you’re saying, y/n and I get it.” His hands settled to your lower back in a loose hold while he maintained eye contact with you, “This is something I’ve been afraid of for years and I know I need to face it by myself but that doesn’t mean I don’t want you meeting anyone.” He flashed a soft smile, wrapping his arms properly around you. He hugged you against him, loving the feeling of having you close to him during a conversation like this. “Sure, Gem’s birthday might be off the table because who knows how that’s going to go, but I’d still love for you to meet my mum and… whoever else would be willing. It’s been a long time since I’ve been back, but I’d like to think you’d be received with open arms.”
Truthfully, Harry didn’t know what to expect from his visit home. He kept in contact with some of his closest cousins and friends, but there were still those who never really forgave him for what he did to Gemma. He wasn’t sure if they’d come around after the effort he was about to put into trying to mend that relationship, but they were all loving and earnest people. Harry hoped they’d be willing to forgive him.
He was trying not to get too hopeful though.
“Even if I’m not… received with open arms, I’d understand it.” You replied softly. “I just don’t want to be one of the reasons your family doesn’t want to give you a chance, that’s all.”
If this situation was reversed and your family member was coming to visit to try and mend things, only to bring his very new and young girlfriend along with him, you’d be hesitant for sure. It was why you had no expectations to meet anyone or attend any family reunions. You were very prepared to be spending days alone and exploring the city while Harry reconnected with everyone. You had always wanted to solo travel so you actually hoped you’d be able to spend some days just walking around by yourself.
“Y/n… my sweet, sweet girl, you won’t be.” He assured, bringing his hands from under your jumper to cup your face. “There may be a chance they’re not very receptive to me, but that’ll be with or without you there…” He smiled lovingly, running his thumbs over your cheeks. His touch was an instant calm and you found yourself leaning into it heavily. “Look, I understand if you may feel a little awkward so I won’t push you to do anything, but if things are going well I don't see why you couldn’t meet everyone. I know my mum would want to have you over for dinner. Not sure if you’ll be able to get out of that. ”
You laughed softly at his comment and leaned forward to kiss him. “I’d love to meet your mum.” You declared softly, kissing him again. “Okay…” You whispered while pulling away, “I’m in.”
“Yeah?” He grinned.
“Yeah.” You echoed, nodding before squealing when Harry suddenly scooped you up from the couch.
“How ‘bout we celebrate then, hm?” He mused, kissing you between words as he very quickly made his way upstairs. You laughed a little but agreed nonetheless, kissing him as much as possible until you were lying down on his bed.
Archie had followed you upstairs with a toy in his mouth, tail wagging like you were all about to play a game until Harry quickly uttered those three words that made Archie whine like a sad puppy dog. “Harry, he’s crying.” You pouted, looking around Harry’s legs to make eye contact with the sad little boy.
“He’ll be fine.” Harry laughed, “go on, Arch, go downstairs.”
After another huff, Archie trotted off with his toy in his mouth, allowing Harry to close the bedroom door and leave you two alone. He turned back to face you, eyes dark and full of promise of what he was about to do to you. You couldn’t have been more excited.
“I can’t believe we’re finally christening your bed.” You teased, pushing your sweatpants down your legs until they got caught around your ankles. Harry was quick to help you and pulled them off the rest of the way.
“Mhmm. It’s been way too long, baby… Still want to get my box of toys out, though. I’ve got a paddle and pink rope with your name on it.” He smirked, dumping your sweatpants onto the floor before pulling off his hoodie and shirt in one go.
“When I sleep over. Please, when I sleep over…” you murmured, sitting up so Harry could pull your-his knit jumper off to join the growing pile on the floor. He quickly shoved his pants off before settling between your thighs and joining your mouths in a messy heated kiss.
You’d never get sick of kissing him, not when it felt like an explosion in your belly and a tingling all over your body. Just a single peck had you completely swooning and you’d happily make out with him for hours without doing anything else.
Though knowing you two… it always turned into something else. Something more.
“Baby there’s so many things I need to do to you. Just need time and privacy so I can make you scream as loud as I fucking want.” His words were low and rumbly, partly disappearing into the seam of your mouth because he just couldn’t part from your lips long enough to get a full sentence out. The fact that he used ‘need’ instead of ‘want’ drove you up the fucking wall and you were suddenly more desperate than ever to touch him.
“I’d do anything for that… anything…” You gasped, digging your fingers into his shoulders. His body was so big and heavy over you and you could already feel how hard he was pressed against you. Long and thick and all yours. Sometimes you had to pinch yourself when you thought about being with someone like Harry.
“Mmh, I know you would.” He hummed, beginning to kiss along your jaw down to your neck. “Bet you’d beg for it too, wouldn’t you?”
“Yes…” You nodded breathlessly, pulling his mouth back to yours by cupping his jaw in both hands. With a little hook of your neck and a very clear ‘lay down’ mumbled into Harry’s mouth, he let you turn your bodies so he was against the bed and you were straddling him.
“I love seeing you like this” Harry murmured, watching you adjust so you were kneeling between his legs instead of sitting on top of him. You smiled at the compliment and ran your hands over his chest, digging your nails into his skin ever so slightly so he groaned and squeezed your waist.
“I love seeing you like this” You replied, leaning down to press a kiss to the middle of his chest. “I love kissing you…” you continued, peppering kisses all over his chest and down to his abs, “...kissing your body, your tattoos…”
Harry sighed above you, sliding his hand through your hair to sweep it across to one shoulder so it wasn’t covering your face. Every gentle touch of your lips against him had his entire body clenching with need. He knew you could feel it too.
You took your time running your mouth and tongue over his body, tracing his tattoos and the contours of his muscles. There was just something so fucking sexy about having full access to him like this, of being able to touch and kiss wherever you liked. And you had time, you could take as much time in kissing him and touching him and making him cum in your mouth.
As far as your parents knew, you were out with Lucy for the night. You weren’t particularly sure if your mum believed your lie when you walked out the door after dropping your things off, but you didn’t really pay too much attention to it when your call with Anne was on your mind. There was a change in your schedule this week which allowed you to sleep at your childhood home midweek for once and you took it immediately. Being away from home was harder than ever now that you and Harry were seeing each other and you were getting a bit homesick.
You loved living by yourself, but you missed the moments you used to have with your parents. Your nightly Netflix binges with your mum and cooking with your dad. It was why you loved to come home and why you tried to spend as much time here as possible. Now that Harry was in the picture… well your homesickness was for him as well as your family.
It always got bad towards the end of the semester too and you were feeling it extra hard this time. You were run down and tired and pushed to your absolute limit and all you wanted to do was go home and be a kid again. Nowadays all you wanted was to curl into Harry’s arms and forget all your responsibilities existed.
Oh… and you absolutely wanted to do this…
“Especially love these ones…” you continued, kissing over his right fern tattoo before pressing your tongue flat against the leaves. “And biting here…” licking a trail up to his hip, you very happily bit down on the spot right above his waistband before starting to work on making a small hickey there.
“Shit…” Harry breathed, clenching his jaw. His fingers tightened in your hair, trying to control every cell in his body that wanted to take control of the situation. Your teasing was torturous and his cock was so goddamn sore he didn’t think he’d even be able to last a full minute once you got your mouth on him. At least he hoped that’s where this was going. However, he really did not care as long as you were just touching him in some capacity.
“Wanna know what I really love, though?” You asked, looking directly up at him while tucking your fingers into the waistband of his tight briefs. His cock was pressing angrily against the soft material and all you wanted to do was get your mouth on it.
“What’s that?”
“Tasting your cock…” you reached down and licked along his length through his underwear, loving the way his filthy moan echoed around the room. “Can I? Please…”
“Fuck… of course you can.” Harry swallowed thickly, almost trembling when you found his tip and sucked ever so gently on it. “Shit baby… take me out.”
Right as you were about to free his cock and finally taste him, the sound of Harry’s doorbell echoed outside his bedroom door. He had an intercom system upstairs and in his kitchen so the sound was always loudest in those two areas. Archie’s barking followed the ringing soon after and you could hear the distinct sound of him jumping around near the front door.
“Who the fuck would be here right now?” Harry cursed, rubbing his hand over his face.
“Just ignore it. We’re busy.” You shrugged, licking him through his briefs again. You were a big fan of ignoring the door and your phone when you didn’t want to speak with someone but if there was one thing you noticed about your parents and well… Harry’s generation was that they were incapable of putting their phone on silent.
Harry shuddered and hissed at your hot tongue against his cock and soon the door was the last thing on his mind. “You’re right… you’re right. For the love of god, please continue baby.” He practically pleaded, almost coming at the dazed-doe expression you had on your face. It looked like you were almost enjoying this more than him. Almost.
You got back to it and kissed along his skin as you pulled his boxers down, following the waistband with your mouth until your lips brushed against the very base of him. His fingers tightened in your hair the further down his length you got until you had licked a trail from his base right to his tip.
But then the doorbell rang again, just as you were about to pull his underwear completely down his thighs.
“Fuck. This better be fucking important” Harry cursed again, reluctantly letting go of your hair. You made a noise of indignation and pulled his boxers back up for him before making space so he could get up from the bed. You flopped onto your back, looking at him with straight annoyance at the fact he was taking his cock away from you. “I’ll be right back, y/n. Right back.” He promised, reaching down to peck your mouth. “I’m just going to see who it is, okay?”
All Harry had to do was walk a little down his hallway where the intercom was and he could speak to whoever was at the gate. He could do it from his phone too but he left that downstairs and there was no way he was walking all the way down there with a sore cock just to turn away whoever was trying to sell him something.
“Hurry upppp.” You complained, already impatient with him leaving you.
“Just be patient, y/n.” Harry tutted, trying not to show how dizzy he was by how eager you were to suck him off. You could give him head every day or once a month and he’d be as eager and grateful for it every single time. There was just something about enthusiastic head that drove Harry up the fucking wall.
Harry adjusted his cock in his boxers before pressing the video button to see who was at his gate and when the clear image popped up, his eyes nearly fell out of his head. “Uhh… y/n?”
“Yeah?” you called back, staring up at the ceiling while clenching and unclenching the duvet in your hands to try and distract yourself from how horny you were.
“It’s your mum.”
“What!?” You shot up from the bed immediately, looking at him wide-eyed. “What the hell is she doing here?”
It was an immediate cause of panic for the two of you, like you were two teenagers being caught having sex after your parents came home too early. But neither of you were teenagers and you were in the privacy of your own home. Well, Harry’s home.
“I don’t know! What do I do?” Even Harry was panicking, mostly at the loss of his time with you but also because he had no idea what your mum wanted. As bad as it was, he hadn’t spoken to her properly since she found out about you two. He hadn’t seen her due to his work schedule and he didn’t really feel right going over for a cup of tea to talk about your relationship without you being present.
“Just answer it, I don’t know!?”
“Okay… shit. Okay.” Harry cleared his throat before pressing the call button to speak to your mum, “Hi Jules, everything alright?”
“Is my daughter in there?”
You pressed your hands to your face and groaned into them, already recognising the slight tinge of drunkenness in her voice. Even through the intercom, you could identify the one, potentially one and a half glasses of wine she had.
“I know she’s there, Harry, so I suggest you let me in so we can all chat.” Jules continued.
Harry looked back at you and took his finger off the button, giving you a look that basically asked, ‘so what should I do?’.
“Well we don’t exactly have a choice, do we? I can’t lie to her again.”
“I’ll be right down, Jules.”
Barely two minutes later you were opening the front door and letting your mum into Harry’s house. It was possibly the weirdest situation you had ever been in and you didn’t have the slightest idea why she'd be here.
“Mum, what are you doing here? You can’t just show up like this!” You exclaimed, crossing your arms when her eyes landed on Harry’s knit sweater. Both of you were in a severe rush to get your clothes back on and you opted to greet her so he’d have a little more time to sort himself out. He was as hard as anything upstairs and there was no way he was coming back down without trying to get rid of it.
“I can and I will. You lied to me, y/n. I thought telling me about you two was so you wouldn’t lie.”
“I couldn’t exactly openly say that I’m spending the afternoon with Harry, could I? You’re being so weird about us still and Dad doesn’t even know.”
“That’s why I’m here. I can’t keep it a secret anymore! You know how dad is, every time he flashes those puppy eyes or makes me dinner I’m ready to spill everything. He knows I’m hiding something. You two need to tell him and-” she stopped herself abruptly, “where even is Harry? This is for all of us to talk about not just you and me. He hasn’t even come to talk to me too, by the way. Just so you know.”
“I apologise for that,” Harry interjected, making himself known as he walked down the stairs to join you two. He seemed settled enough and far more nonchalant than you were. You still felt and probably looked all flushed and nervous.
It wasn’t every day your mum interrupted you about to give your boyfriend a fucking blowjob. Hiding where you were was for that exact reason. Because she simply couldn’t deal with you two being alone in his house yet and you knew it.
“I haven’t seen you since y/n told me you knew and I felt it was important for all of us to discuss it together. I wasn’t avoiding you by any means, Jules.” He flashed that smooth buttery smile as he stood beside you, resting his hand on your lower back. “Should I put the kettle on? Or would you rather have a nice glass of Cabernet Sauvignon?”
You had never been more grateful for Harry’s effortless ability to charm women. In a second your mum went from alarmed and ready to tell Harry off to calm and pliant. Part of you fucking hated it, the other was glad she wasn’t giving you that panicked look anymore.
Barely five minutes later all three of you were sitting on Harry’s dining table with wines in hand. The atmosphere felt like something you had to fight your way through just to breathe. It was awkward and a little tense, something you hoped it wouldn’t be after your mum gave her support to your relationship. But she was clearly upset that he hadn’t spoken to her.
It was understandable to a degree but at the same time, if Harry was a boy your age she wouldn’t want to grill him so fucking hard. She’d probably call your relationship cute and sweet and ask questions about his family and any siblings.
Instead, she was asking him the same questions she asked you already, trying to watch with her own eyes whether Harry was earnest and truthful about his affection for you. The wine she drank drove her questions, none thankfully which were about your sex life. She had no problems asking Harry if he worried about dying at 70 and leaving you young at 50 years old, though, which wasn’t exactly a conversation you wanted to have.
“Mum. Seriously, what are these questions? If he was my age would you ask that?” You scolded, getting a headache. She had no ill intentions of course and she only wanted the best for you, but the way she was grilling Harry was killing you.
“I want to know if he’s seriously thought about it, y/n. That’s all.” Mum defended. “Have you thought about it?”
Truthfully, until she asked the question the thought had never crossed your mind. Now, you were definitely going to think about it.
“It’s okay, y/n. She’s just worried as any mother should be.” Harry tried to assure you, bringing your intertwined fingers to his mouth to kiss the back of your hand. He hid it well, but even Harry was taken aback by her questioning and it took a lot to surprise him. He flashed a calm smile before turning to your mum, “I think about our future every day, Jules, and I don’t take it lightly. I just want to make y/n happy. That’s all I want. If I give her 2 years, 5 years, 40 years of happiness I’ll be happy.”
The thought of that made you giddy. Not the idea of your relationship being limited to two years, but knowing that this could be the rest of your life.
“Hm.” Your mum responded, sipping her wine. “Okay, well I know where you live so any problems and I know where to find you.”
“Yes, you do.” Harry chuckled, resting his arm on the back of your chair. His fingers found your hair and he fiddled with it in his fingers. It was hard for either of you to forget what was so rudely interrupted earlier.
Your mum’s eyes drifted to his fingers playing with your hair and you could see the soften of fondness drift in her expression. All she wanted was to make sure you were okay and happy and while her grilling may have annoyed you, you knew it was because she loved you and nothing else. Harry wasn’t a twenty-something-year-old, he was 17 years older than you so your mum had every right to make sure he was treating you well. Especially since you were neighbours for years.
“Well I’m happy,” Mum finished off her glass and stood up from the table, “now you two are coming for dinner. I’ll give you half an hour and you better make sure you look more put together than you do now.”
“Mum-” you tried to interject, standing abruptly from the table as well.
“No. You need to tell your dad. I can’t keep this a secret any longer and neither should you two.” She looked at Harry briefly, but you both knew that this whole situation fell on your shoulders.
You looked down at Harry who was already looking up at you. He nodded gently, reading the question from your one look. Standing up, he squeezed your shoulder before letting his hand fall to your waist.
“We’ll be there. It’ll be nice to finally have everything out in the open.” He squeezed your waist, trying to ease some of the anxiety clawing its way up your throat. You nodded and pressed your hand to his lower back, fisting his hoodie.
“We’ll see you then, mum.”
Neither you nor Harry could relax once she left. There was no going back to what was interrupted so all you could do was go back upstairs to clean up a little better, which really was just brushing your hair and Harry changing into something a little nicer. You were going to stay in his jumper and your sweats because it was the only clothes you had, but Harry wasn’t one to show up in a sweat set for dinner with your parents, especially when it was such a heavy evening.
You just hoped that your dad wasn’t going to explode. That he’d have a reaction calm enough that you’d be able to discuss it all without anyone yelling. Your dad was kind and generous and he loved you more than anything, but he was also protective. Fiercely protective. The first time you were hurt by a boy as a young teen he almost went to that boy's house to confront him and it wasn’t to have a chat.
Him and Harry were… friendly but not exceptionally close. You always found it a little odd that Harry never wanted to become friends with anyone in the neighbourhood, even when he had common interests with them. Both Harry and your dad liked golf and soccer and yet they never did more than a casual chat over the fence or at a barbecue Harry only attended once in a blue moon.
Now… you were grateful for the distance Harry kept because it meant their relationship was pleasant but not close enough for there to be some sort of loyalty. There was no betrayal for dating someone a bit younger than your parents. No sides where your dad could feel offended for you dating a friend of his.
Still, there was no prediction of what his reaction would be.
“Mum, dad! We’re here!” You called through the house as you both walked towards the living area. Harry held your hand tightly, walking closely beside you until you entered kitchen. Once you were in view of your parents he let go of your hand as per what you two agreed. You wanted to settle into dinner before you said anything to your dad, so for now you had to act like you just went over to visit him and your mum extended the invitation for dinner.
“Hey pumpkin,” Dad greeted immediately, leaving his pot on the stove unattended while he approached you immediately for a hug. “How are you? Missed you.” He squeezed.
“‘M good. Tired. How was work?” You hugged him back, smiling at the feeling of him kissing the top of your head while he released you from the hug.
“Same old, P.” He shrugged, squeezing your shoulder before moving onto Harry. “Harry, mate. How are you? ” Tim greeted with a wide grin, extending his hand for Harry to shake until they went into one of those quick bro hugs. “Glad you could join us!”
“‘Course, thank you so much for having me.” Harry smiled back.
Dad was as happy as anything with Harry being present, especially after Harry offered one of the more expensive wine bottles from his collection as a gift. They got into immediate conversation while Dad got back to cooking and Harry joined him. He offered his help and wound up pouring Mum and you a glass of that expensive wine each. Your mum definitely didn’t need it, but you sure as hell did.
It was such a nice domestic scene to watch. The way Harry so effortlessly conversed with your parents and made himself at home in your kitchen to help out was fucking sexy, that’s what it was. Your mum and you were able to just sit at the island bench and watch while your partners did all the work, which is exactly how it was when it was just you and Harry. Of course, only three of you in the room knew the truth, but even so, there was no akwardness or tension in the air.
You were sure that would change once your dad found out, but your mum was as happy as anything and she did know. It was like the conversation you had barely an hour ago settled all the nerves in her stomach. That or she was in her happy place watching dad cook so having Harry easily join into that arrangement made it easier for her to like him.
“Maybe I am a fan of Harry because not only do I get to look at one, but two very sexy men in the kitchen.” Mum whispered to you before exploding in a fit of drunk giggles. You gasped but joined her in her laughter, happy that she was able to joke and relax… even if it was a little weird for her to call your boyfriend sexy.
“What are you two giggling about?” Harry mused, sipping his wine through a smile while looking directly at you.
“It’s better if you don’t know, mate. My wife has a habit of objectifying men.” Dad joked, turning around with the pot of gnocchi to serve it into the bowls Harry got out for him.
“I do not! That’s slander. Defamation.” Mum defended.
“Well, I’m flattered.” Harry laughed while grabbing the bottle of wine to offer a refill, “Y/n, would you like some more?”
Truthfully it was hard for you to concentrate on anything being said because if there was one thing your mother did get right, it was that Harry was a sexy man. You had never felt the loss of your interruption more than now. His navy sweater was pushed up to his elbows and he had one hand pressed to the bench while the held the bottle in the other. All you could focus on was his tattooed forearm and the veins in his hand. He was ringless as you two were relaxing after he got home from work and there wasn’t much point putting them back on when he wanted his knuckles deep inside you at some point during the night.
The absence of his rings did nothing to diminish his attractiveness though because somehow the missing pieces allowed your eyes to focus on his veins instead. The way they made his arm look stronger and his fingers longer… how they tensed and protruded when he gripped your thigh or your throat. All you could fucking think about was him wrapping that same veiny hand around his cock to guide it to your mouth or pussy.
Jesus…
“y/n?”
“Hm?” You blinked, suddenly coming back into focus, “Oh, um yeah. Yes please.”
You sat a little taller and slid your glass towards Harry, finding a cheeky fucking smirk on his face. He said nothing, but you could read everything in his expression. Harry pressed his tongue against his cheek while pouring your wine, focused on the way you bit down on your bottom lip. It was an anxious habit you had since before you two even became friends and was one of the first things he noticed about you that drove him crazy.
Now all he wanted to do was reach against the bench and tug your lip free to correct the behaviour. Seeing you be so enthusiastic at the mention of rope and toys had him going fucking crazy and now it was all he could think about. Having you bent over against his bed while he spanked you or spread wide and tied up for him so he could overstimulate you with a vibrator.
He was fucked. His cock was still sore as he couldn’t exactly nut one out with your mum downstairs and his mind was dizzy just at the sight of you sitting there all cozy in his sweater. You were makeup free and flushed from wine and it was one of his favourite sights. He loved you in anything really, or nothing at all, but being in your kitchen with your parents and cooking together and enjoying wine like it was a normal occurrence stirred something in him.
It stroked that box inside of him that yearned for a family. The box you had cracked open and kept open just by being you.
“Thank you.” You whispered, suddenly aching for his touch. You just wanted to cuddle into him or hold his hand or anything.
“You’re welcome, love.” He smiled, moving onto your mum.
“Alright, dinner’s served. Pumpkin would you mind taking these to the table?” Dad motioned to the bowl of freshly grated parmesan and the salt and pepper shakers. You nodded and grabbed the items, tucking the shakers under your arm so you could carry your wine over to the table at the same time.
Soon Dad and Harry brought the bowls of gnocchi over to the table and you were all happily chatting away. Your mum made a very strategic play of ensuring Harry sat beside you, which was quite easy when she clung to your dad like they just started dating.
Their affection was one thing you always admired about them. Even after all this time they still hugged and kissed and showed those quiet displays of affection. A peck on the cheek or holding her chair out before she even had an opportunity to sit down in it. Cracking pepper over her food without even needing to be asked because he knew she liked it. A hand on the small of her back and him carrying her shopping bags like the thought of her lifting a single finger even in an activity she enjoyed was torturous.
It was why you found the small gestures Harry did so much more gratifying than any big ones. The every day little things he did, possibly without even thinking about them that just made you feel special and important. His good morning texts and check-ins to ask if you had eaten or drank water, which you always forgot to do in your heavy study grinds. The daily goodnight phone calls where he asked about your day, which yeah sure, bare minimum, but he just treated you like you were the most important thing on the planet.
It was why you were so head over heels in love with him.
“Dad, I have to tell you something.” You didn’t mean to blurt it out, really. Not in the middle of everyone enjoying their gnocchi anyway but you couldn’t help it. You wanted to talk about it after dinner so if anything went pear shaped at the very least your food wasn’t ruined, but the more you thought about it the more anxious you got and you didn’t want to put it off any longer.
“Okay…” Dad’s eyes flicked to Harry briefly and you could see the look of concern flash in his eyes. “Everything okay, y/n?”
“Yes. Yes everythings fine I just…” This time it was your turn to look at Harry, whose gaze was soft and adoring. He immediately stopped eating to gave his full attention to you and found your fingers underneath the table for support. “I’m seeing someone.”
Your dad’s eyes widened in surprise and he was quick to look at your mum, “Oh wow. Wow. Did you know about this?”
She nodded, “Yes. Not for long though.”
“Okay… shit, okay. First boyfriend, I hope. Unless you hid another relationship from me?” His tone was light and you just coughed out an uneasy laugh in response.
“Nope. First one, Dad.”
Harry tried to hide his amusement by rubbing his spare hand over his mouth. He made brief eye contact with Jules across the table who shared a similar expression. Hers was also laced with stress, but she flashed him a smile anyway.
“Well that’s fantastic.” Dad declared, spooning another scoop of his gnocchi into his mouth. “Who is he? Do I know him?...” He spoke between chews, “Is he that boy from your birthday last year? Y’know the one I didn’t like?”
“Um no not him, but you do know him. He’s really kind and funny… even plays golf like you do.” You chuckled at the way your dad’s eyes seemed to light up at that information. The entire time you spoke Harry kept his hand in yours and smoothed his thumb over the back of your hand. “He’s sweet and has a dog-”
“You love dogs.” Dad pointed out, to which you nodded with a smile.
“I do. He treats me really well and… well, I’m really happy with him Dad. Really happy.”
“That’s all I want for you, pumpkin, you know that.” Dad smiled at you fondly, sipping his wine. “So who is he, then? Better not be one of my boys.” He referred to his company, hoping it wasn’t one of the idiots he had working for him. They were good on the tools but for the most part had no fucking idea how to treat a woman. His daughter especially.
“It’s Harry.”
You just had to say it. You had built up his character in hopes to make a smooth introduction, but all that happened when you brought your intertwined fingers up onto the table was dead fucking silence. The mood disappeared instantly and a whirlwind of emotions circulated in the air. Dad didn’t say anything, Harry didn’t say anything, no one said anything.
“Dad?” You swallowed thickly after what felt like an eternity of silence, watching his eyes flick between your face, Harry’s face then your held hands on the table.
“You’re lying. This is a joke right?” Dad laughed, suddenly standing from the table. “This is just some stupid joke for tiktak or facebook or whatever, right?”
“No… Dad, it’s not a trick. I’m not lying to you.” You stood from the table, pressing your hands to the top of it to keep you steady. His immediate reaction freaked you out and you weren’t sure where it was going to go from here.
“Y/n, he’s double your age. Are you serious!?” He snapped, jaw clenched.
“I am. I am serious.”
“And you knew about this?” His head whipped to your mum, “You knew she was dating him and let it happen?” Mum didn’t get a chance to respond before he was looking back at you, eyes showing just how hurt and angry he was about your relationship. “Y/n. My office. Now.”
He had never spoken down at you like that before. Even as a child your dad was always gentle and corrected behavior rather than yelled to tell you off. He always heard you out, always. When you wanted to move away for school he was so damn against it because he thought it was a waste when there were good schools, even better ones closer by. But he listened to you and your reasoning.
He hadn’t even given you an opportunity to reason with him yet.
“No.” You shook your head, watching his eyes widen in surprise at your clear disagreement. “You have always given me the benefit of the doubt, dad. Always. Just let me talk and explain. Please.”
“This is ridiculous.” Dad spat, running his hand through his hair in utter disbelief of what was going on.
“Tim, please. I’ve listened to both of them and I think you should too.” This time it was your mum’s turn to step in. She put a gentle hand on his arm and you could visibly see the way your dad started to calm down a little bit. “She’s happy.” Her tone grew soft, as did her eyes.
“Please, Dad.”
Your Dad looked over to you, then to Harry then back to you like you were his final destination. You flashed a pleading look, one he had never resisted before. It was like the cogs were visibly turning in his head and there was another long pause before he grabbed the half-opened bottle of wine on the table and filled his glass to the brim.
He collapsed down in his chair and chugged half the glass then placed it back down on the table. You looked over at Harry and you both excganhed a look of both concern and confusion, not really sure where this was going to go.
“Alright, y/n. I’m listening.”
You spent the next half hour explaining everything. You wanted to be as honest as possible about your relationship without exposing the entire truth because you didn’t really need him knowing that you and Harry hooked up for weeks before dating. All he needed to know was that there was attraction there but you didn’t want to start anything because of the many reasons there were. And that part was the truth.
And he genuinely listened. His initial shock and disagreement for it had faded away a little bit and he was actually able to listen and ask questions and try and understand what you two had going on. You could kind of tell that everything you said just didn’t click with him, but he wasn’t reacting that way. For the most part his grilling was towards Harry and while part of you was happy to be out of the firing line, the other was worried that Harry was in it.
“So her age isn’t some weird kink of yours?”
“Dad!” you scolded, slowly sinking down into your chair. It was like your parents had no filter. That or they just didn’t care about boundaries or how things came across.
“It’s okay, y/n.” Harry assured you, just like he did when your mum asked her death questions. Mum seemed to go worst case scenario with everything while your dad automatically assumed everyone was out to get you. It was an only child thing. “No, Tim, it isn’t. Y/n is the youngest woman I’ve ever dated in comparison to myself, yes, but that isn’t the reason I love her. In the beginning it was actually one of the reasons I didn’t want to pursue things with her but as we became friends… I realised that we had so much in common that it was hard to ignore how I felt about her. I think I knew from the moment things changed that she was different to any other woman I’ve met. There are infinite reasons I love her and care for her.”
It was question and answer just like that, and every single time Harry was able to provide some answer that had you absolutely swooning over him. Even the most awkward just fucked questions, Harry had no reaction to them. Nothing phased him. It was like he had prepared answers for everything that might come his way.
“Okay, I’ve heard you two so now I think you should hear me.” Dad clasped his hands together and rested them on the table. “I still don’t think this is a good idea.”
You went to protest his opinion but he quickly shut you down and glared at you. “Ah.” He tutted before continuing to speak. “I don’t think this is a good idea because he’s just too old for you, pumpkin. You two can love each other and have fun and think that this is forever, but you’re not realistic and I don’t think it’ll work in the long run. For kids, for life experiences, for everything. Your age gap will always dictate everything you do and I don’t want that for you.”
Harry grabbed your hand under the table and squeezed it tight, providing comfort you so desperately needed. Every word your dad said was just hurting you more and more. If your mum could see the potential in your relationship, why couldn’t he?
“I know you two don’t need my blessing and you’ll just keep seeing each other anyway, but I can’t agree with it.” Dad shook his head and stood up suddenly, “You’re happiness is my happiness, y/n so I won’t stay in the way, but don’t expect anything more from me than the bare minimum. Understand?”
You just nodded, a little at loss for words. It wasn’t the worst outcome in the world, but it also wasn’t the best. Your dreams of everyone getting along suddenly seemed so far away. Dad looked at you like you were still his sun, moon and stars but when he looked at Harry… it was like he hated him. A solid unwavering dislike that lasted generations and all it took was him finding out Harry was a whole lot more than your neighbour.
To think less than an hour ago your Dad and Harry were laughing like they were best friends and now… they were practically strangers.
“I understand your hesitation but I want you to know that I’d never hurt your daughter. This is the most serious I have ever been in my life about anyone and I hope one day you can see that.” Harry stood up from the table as well, extending his hand across your cold, forgotten food as a gesture of good will to your Dad.
But all Dad did was look down at Harry’s olive branch then back up at his face. “I think it’s time for me to go to bed. I have work in the morning.”
Harry’s hand fell to his side but he didn’t look deterred at all. If this situation was in reverse and this was Harry’s family… you’d be in tears. Dad bid goodnight to your mum as he usually did then rounded the table to hug you too. It was brief and distant enough to make your heart ache. Still, he whispered an ‘I love you’ before leaving the room without another look at Harry.
“Well…” Mum announced, grabbing the second bottle of wine that emerged on the table sometime during your discussion to pour herself another glass. She clearly wasn’t going to work tomorrow. Luckily her husband was her business partner. She took a happy sip and looked at both you and Harry over the rim. “I don’t know about you two but I think that went a lot better than I expected.”
You knew she was right, but it didn’t really feel that way.
“He’ll come around.” Harry shrugged, starting to stack the dishes so he could take them to the kitchen. “In time.”
Yeah… in time.
//
“Mr. Styles, you’ve got a visitor.” Sharon opened his office door, peaking in just enough for him to see her face.
He replied without looking up, focused on the document in front of him. “Who? I’ve got an appointment with Niall in 10.”
“Y/n? She said you’ll make time for her.”
Yeah fucking right he was going to make time for her. His eyes snapped to hers quickly and she could see how his irritation had disappeared into thin air.
“Do you want me to bring her in?” She continued, pointing behind her.
Trying to hide his excitement, he set his pen down and quickly stood up, buttoning up his suit jacket. “No. I’ll go and get her.”
She had a mischievous smile playing on her lips and flashed a knowing look to her boss, someone she managed to create a pleasant working relationship with.
“She must be special for you to go get her yourself.” There was a slight tease in her tone as she walked alongside Harry down the hall to where you were standing in the small waiting lounge. You hadn’t been back since that day Harry took you to Pleasing. You had often met in the city for lunch but never at his office. This time you wanted to surprise him.
“What did I tell you about speculating about my personal life?” His tone was humorous, but Sharon knew he was being serious.
“Right. Sorry. You just never have anyone visit.”
“I’m kidding, Sharon. She’s very special. She’s the love of my life.”
A soft smile played on her lips. Harry was a serious guy basically all the time. Seeing him look so happy was a nice change. She had noticed that he seemed happier recently too and more relaxed at work than usual. “Let me know if you need anything cancelled.”
“Thank you.” His thanks was brief, a murmur like he didn’t mean the words because there you were sitting all pretty on one of the sofas scrolling away at your phone. You had one of the tote bags Harry bought you beside you and it looked full to the brim. It was one of the bags you two had matching, as were the pair of gazelles on your feet. You saw them in an ad online and told Harry how much you liked them and he was quick to order you a pair. You didn’t show them to him so he’d buy them for you but he liked to spoil you. They were cheap and Harry quite liked the look of them as well so he decided to buy himself a pair too.
You always got so shy when he bought you something, always grateful. When he asked you why you got like that, you explained it wasn’t the item, but the thought behind it. He noticed everything to the point you were convinced he was writing notes or had tabs on your browser history because he was always showing up with something you made a passing comment about.
Even the very same shoes you had on your feet. He showed up to his routine night at your house wearing his and was like a giddy kid giving you the box with your own pair in it.
“Oh my god, you got the shoes! They look so good on you.” You beamed, eyes immediately drawn to his feet. They were the third thing you noticed about him. After his pretty face, his pretty mouth and those black joggers he wore when he wanted to be super comfy. They always managed to turn you on a crazy amount.
Harry knew that too of course.
“I got you a pair too.” He smiled widely, practically throwing his overnight bags on your bed so he could open one of them to take out the shoe box. You thought you were bad with the amount of shit you took with you on your sleepovers, but no, Harry was just as bad. Worse even. He had some comfy clothes stashed at your place but if he was staying a weekend he always brought multiple outfit options and his entire stash of toiletries.
It was sexy. You felt like a rich housewife when you laid on your bed watching him get dressed while he asked for your opinion on everything.
“You didn’t!” Your mouth gaped in shock, grabbing onto the shoe box to open it. You didn’t expect to find the exact same pair as Harry’s inside, but it was a pleasant surprise to find that he had gone out and bought matching shoes for you two. It was possibly the cutest thing ever. “Matching shoes?” You smiled, looking up at him from the box.
He suddenly appeared very shy, like the very idea of being one of those couples who had matching clothes and outfits was a stupid idea. A sheepish expression flashed over his face and he tucked his hands behind his back like a dog tucked their tail between their legs. “Yeah… but if you don’t like them I can return them. Or even if you don’t like the colour we can swap th-”
You interrupted him by chucking the box on your bed and pulling his face down to yours to give him a big thank-you kiss. “I love them.” You assured him before kissing him again. He smiled into it, wrapping his arms around your body to lean back and lift you off the floor until your tippy toes skimmed the rug. “Thanks for being the best sugar daddy ever.”
Harry’s laugh broke the kiss while he set you back down on the floor. “Does that mean I get sugar in return then? Since I bought you shoes and dinner.” He let his hands crawl down to your ass, squeezing your cheeks through your leggings with both hands.
“Fuck off.” You hit his chest, trying to act like you didn’t want to give him sugar when in reality you had been waiting to see him all day in hopes he was horny. He usually was. “I’m not an object. You can’t buy me.”
“I can’t?” He raised a brow, “I saw you look at my cock the moment I walked in, y/n. Had you in the palm of my hand just because I wore the sweatpants you like.” Harry had this cocky shit-eating grin on his face that made you want to hit him. Because he was right. All it took was a simple pair of (expensive) sweatpants and you were ready to spread your legs for him. And he brought shoes and dinner? Maybe you could be bought.
Who were you kidding, you definitely could be bought.
“You’re annoying.” You huffed, grabbing the collar of his to pull him in for a kiss. It only lasted a second before you pulled back, rolling your eyes at the pure look of satisfaction on his face. “Just because you’re right this time doesn’t mean you’re right all the time.”
“No?” He ran his tongue over his teeth, using his hands on your ass so he could pick you up and set you down on the bed. “You want to test that theory?”
You watched as he smoothly shoved all his belongings (and your shoes) off the bed before taking his sweatshirt and t-shirt off in one go. He grabbed the back of both collars near his neck to do so and fuck. You never understood why it was so sexy when men removed their shirts like that and yet it had you sweating.
“I’m up for some experimentation...”
The sight of you standing from the sofa broke him free from the memory, which was probably best because you were wearing those jeans that made your ass look incredible and the memory associated to them was heading down a reverse cowgirl lane. He didn’t exactly want to be getting hard in the middle of his office.
“Hi.” You beamed, quickly tucking your phone into your back pocket and slinging your bag over your shoulder.
“Hi…” Harry beamed, immediately drawing you in for a tight hug. You smiled into it, careful not to get makeup on his expensive suit. “What are you doing here? Don’t you have classes today?” He asked, pulling back while letting his hands rest on your hips.
“I skipped.” You shrugged, “It was just a lecture anyway and I wanted to finish work off at home. I wanted to surprise you too.” You smiled softly, resting your hands on his chest.
“I’m so happy you’re here, baby. Truly.” he squeezed your hips, biting down on his bottom lip as his expression turned almost painful. “But Niall will be here in five minutes... I can cancel, though. I will cancel.”
“About that…” you looked away for a moment, making brief eye contact with a random girl at her desk who seemed far more interested in you and Harry than her work. “I’m Niall.”
“Since when?” He shot back, laughing softly. “No. Seriously. Since when?”
“Stop.” You protested, poking his chest at his teasing. “I wanted to make sure we had time and… well it was kind of fun, actually.” You admitted, watching his eyes twinkle at your admission, “I even called pretending to be his assistant.”
Harry laughed loudly, head tilting back in that gorgeous wide smile that you adored of his. His happiness seemed to capture the attention of anyone nearby and you suddenly felt quite overwhelmed with all the eyes on you two. You didn’t particularly dress up to see him and compared to everyone else in their business attire, you looked extremely casual and young.
“You could’ve just texted me, baby. I would’ve made time for you.”
He was so free with his affection for you. So willing to show you off. He wasn’t hiding that you two were a couple or even toning anything down. It made you feel so special. So important.
It felt so free knowing that your parents knew about him. Even if Dad was pretty against it, mum was happy for you. She was happy that you finally found someone who you deemed worthy to date you and who made you happy and one was better than none.
You were just so scared to tell them about the trip. Knowing that your mum was willing to accept your relationship made the whole world of difference but your anxiety was at an all time high. Now that everything was in the open, it felt like you two could move on to the next stage of your relationship as well as the next steps Harry had to take with his family situation. While it was his family and a problem that existed before you two even met, you were going to be there on the trip for him in whatever capacity he needed.
You didn’t want to get involved because families could be so messy and it truly wasn’t your place, but you wanted to support him. You were going to support him.
“Yeah, but then it wouldn’t have been a surprise.” You replied in a ‘duh’ tone before widening your tote bag to show him its contents. “See. I brought sushi for lunch.”
After everything he’s been doing for you to get ready for your trip, you felt like it was a nice gesture to bring him lunch as a bit of a thank you. It wasn’t the end of your gratitude and not the first thank you, but it was a start. Harry was even going as far as offering his credit card to you for any pre-trip shopping as well as a designated shopping day to buy you anything you may need. He knew you well enough to know you were already looking for new dresses and swimsuits and options on options for clothing and wanted to cover all of it. He bought you things he thought you’d like (or selfishly just because he wanted to see you in them) and had already sat through a clothing haul and it had barely been a week since he booked your flight.
He just loved to spend his money on you. It was almost a turn-on for him to see you enjoy the fruits of his labour. A dress he thought you’d look pretty in or a pair of shoes you had your eye on. He liked to keep your belly full and your heart happy and wanted nothing more than for you to be taken care of in any way. It wasn’t to diminish your hard work or make you feel like you couldn’t afford the things you wanted, just because he fucking loved you more than anything.
You felt a little bad that he was covering the trip, especially since your flight was booked much later than it should’ve been and ended up being quite pricey (not that he let you know the exact price anyway) but you could also tell that Harry was happy to pay for it. He showed genuine pleasure and excitement for it and there wasn’t a hint of him that felt apprehension or like you somehow owed him for the trip. He was happy that you were joining him, no matter the cost.
You used that happiness of his to try and not feel as guilty for the trip. When you told your friends about it they thought you were crazy for ever feeling guilty in the first place. Before you two even started sleeping together, you’d fantasise about having a rich man buy you nice things and take you wherever you wanted and now that it was actually happening, you felt anxious about it.
But you wanted to enjoy it and you obviously would when you were in the Italian sun with a spritz in one hand and an ice cream in the other… you just needed to give back a little. You had your eye on a nice shirt for him and already started researching restaurants to go to in Italy that you could treat him to. You promised yourself you’d take him to one fancy, romantic dinner and what better place than the home to pizza and gelato?
Harry’s eyes beamed literal hearts as he squeezed your hips and leaned in to kiss you. It was a little unexpected since Harry was very particular about his job and you two were in the middle of his office, but it was a good unexpected. It was gentle, innocent, a loving peck before he pulled back and smiled down at you.
“I love you so much.”
“I love you too.” You blushed, not really used to the amount of PDA you two were doing right now.
“Come on.” He nudged, smirking at your shy reaction. “We’ll go eat in my office.”
He let you walk slightly ahead of him but kept his hand on your lower back to guide you to the right place. Last time you were here you didn’t get inside his office so you had no idea where you were going.
“Can’t believe you’re here. I missed you.” He murmured, shutting the door behind you two and then immediately grabbing your face to kiss you properly. A peck simply wasn’t enough. After the full-on week you two had, he had missed this. Missed you. He hated when things were complicated and spending time with you like a normal couple was his favourite thing in the world.
“I missed you too.” You giggled, clutching onto the lapels of his suit jacket while kissing him multiple times. He smiled into the kiss and kissed a few kisses down your jaw to your neck. A pretty little pant whimpered into his ear and that’s when he had to stop himself before he got too ahead of himself.
“Come on, baby. Sit next to me.” He smiled, grabbing your bag from you and setting it down on his desk. “How’s your day been?”
“Boring.” You groaned, watching him beeline to one of the arm chairs in front of his desk so he could drag it beside his wheely chair, “I finished one of my smaller assignments last night and today I worked on one of my final ones. It’s literally due next week and worth like 40% of my grade and I feel like I’ll never get it done in time. I’ve barely studied for my exams either and I just feel so shit. I’m over it.” You whined out the complaint, feeling like your head was going to explode.
You had so many things on your mind at once, it was hard to keept track of it all. There was so much left to do for your trip but you barely had any time for it all and you still needed to deep clean your apartment before you left. Most of your clothes were there, but you had so much at your parents’ too that you needed to go through and they didn’t even know about the trip yet. You felt like you were going to be in such a rush towards the end.
Luckily Harry had taken care of practically all the travel essentials, so all you needed to worry about was packing. It still felt like a mammoth of a task when you were swamped with everything else going on in your life.
“I know it’s hard, baby but you’re doing so well,” Harry praised, pulling his nice chair out for you to sit down. “You’ve been working so hard and you’re so close,” he let you sit down before pushing the chair in for you before sitting down beside you, “You just have to stick it out a bit more. It’s only two weeks.”
“I know.” You sighed, helping him to unpack the food you bought from your tote bag. “Everything’s happening so fast, I just feel so unprepared.”
“Well you’ve got me to help, okay? So just focus on your studies and I’ll help you with everything else. We’ve got time and all the important things are taken care of. I’ll help you clean your place and pack and whatever else you need. Don’t stress.” He assured you, giving you a comforting squeeze on your knee.
“Thank you,” You smiled, squeezing his chin to bring him in for a quick peck before you looked at the array of trays and small bites you grabbed to share with him. It was what you usually did when you went out to eat so you two could try a little bit of everything. “My mum called too…”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah… she was talking about you again. It’s all she talks about and she’s always asking if I’ve seen you recently. I’m pretty sure it’s because she’s jealous I see you more than her.” You laughed.
“I keep bumping into her on my morning runs more than usual. I have a feeling its on purpose.” Harry laughed in return.
“Yeah that sounds like her…”
“And your dad?” He nudged your shoulder, “I haven’t seen him since we had dinner. Is he coming around to the idea of us yet?”
“He is. Sort of. I don’t know, Harry, he seems a bit distant towards me. We usually call every couple of days and he’s still doing it but it… feels different. I haven’t even told them about the trip and I don’t want to put it off but I feel like he’ll be really upset.”
“You haven’t told them yet?” Harry blinked, “Y/n we spoke about this. You were meant to tell them over the weekend.” He sighed, almost like he was disappointed in you. You both agreed that you had to tell them sooner rather than later. You wanted to give your dad a few days to process your relationship before telling him because you couldn’t really leave it any longer than that.
It was just shit timing. The trip was coming so fast and your parents found out about you two so close to when you were leaving. Way too close.
“I know. I know.” You replied, groaning a little. “It’s just shit timing.”
“I know, y/n, and they might be upset about it but we leave in two weeks. You need to tell them.” He stressed. You hated when he spoke to you like that. It wasn’t rude or condescending in any way but you could tell he was a little annoyed about it. He had every right to be because this was something you had to do and you didn’t want to fight about it or start anything unnecessarily when you were in the wrong.
You also just didn’t have the energy to deal with it.
“I hate when you’re right. It’s annoying.” You sighed, trying to lighten the mood by laughing softly. Harry knew this was a conversation that didn’t end here, but he could sense your reluctance in it all. He was happy to entertain a small break from it, but it seriously was something that had to be dealt with.
“Well I get it from my mum so if I’m annoying so is she.” Harry smirked, expertly picking up a piece of sashimi with his chopsticks before popping it into his mouth.
“No, never! Anne is like a ray of sunshine. She can be right whenever she wants”
“And I can’t ?” He laughed, “that seems unfair.”
Harry wasn’t sure why the sound of his mother’s name on your lips made his heart beat so goddamn fast, but he nearly dropped the sushi from his mouth at how casual and normal it was. He loved it. Adored it. He hoped that you two meeting in person would be as successful as it was via Zoom.
Harry also hoped that her concerns for your relationship would disappear once you two were face to face. You’d have ample opportunity to spend time together on your trip and he hoped that it would solidify what you two had. The future you two had.
Anne’s concerns were valid and Harry knew that it was something that would come up time and time again with everyone that met you.
“She’s just so… young. She’s a gorgeous girl and so sweet, I can see why you like her but are you being realistic? I just don’t want you getting hurt, H,” Anne sighed through the phone, “Young women want to be free and I just don’t want you two to get a year, two years in and you’re ready to slow down while she’s just getting started. It wouldn’t be fair to either of you.”
“I love her, Mum and if anything her age has been better for me. I feel like I'm enjoying my life in a way that’s completely different from when I was single. I’m learning so many things and so is she. It hasn’t been easy by any means, but it’s working.”
“Well, as long as you’re sure…”
“I am.”
“I saw she’s wearing my necklace too,” She continued after a beat of silence, “She must mean a lot to you.”
“She does, mum. She means everything to me. I can’t explain it but I just know she’s my forever.”
“Well it’s nice to see you so happy. It’s been a long time since you’ve smiled so much. I missed it.”
“I missed it too.”
“You’re just saying it’s unfair because I’m on her side and not yours.” You grinned, breaking him free from his daze.
“If this is going to be another Archie situation where my mother loves you more than me…” he waved his chopsticks towards you, making you giggle.
“Oh it absolutely will be. I’ve been texting her y’know. We follow each other on Instagram now.”
“You’re kidding.” He gawked, all wide eyed.
“Nope. When she found out I was coming to England she was so excited.”
“Yeah I’m sure. You’re her favourite and she’s only known you for a week.” Harry sighed dramatically, eliciting a little shove of his arm. He grinned and squished your face to draw you in for a kiss, loving the way he could taste and feel every emotion you two were feeling in that moment. Words could lie but a kiss never could.
“I’m serious though, y/n...” He murmured against your lips before pulling away while keeping his hand on your jaw. His thumb brushed against your cheek, caressing your soft skin. “You need to tell them tonight.”
“I’m scared.” You whispered. “I’m going either way, obviously, but I’m so worried they’ll be really upset with me. You know I hate upsetting them.”
“I know baby, I get it.” Harry dropped his hand from your cheek and relaxed back to his chair. “The timing is shit and I know if this trip was in a couple of months it would be easier for them to handle, but this is your life, y/n. We’ve done nothing wrong by going on a trip and I’m sure if they can accept our relationship, they can deal with a holiday. You’re an adult and so am I.”
“Maybe you’re right...”
“Baby all we did was fall in love.” He sensed your apprehension and wanted to try and convince you otherwise. He tipped your chin towards him so you were looking at him before grabbing both of your hands in his. “Your dad might not be happy with us dating or going overseas or any of it but I can make him understand. I know deep down that all he wants is for you to be happy and… I can prove that to him. You’re important to me, y/n. The most important person in my life.” He reached out to fiddle with the little pearls around your neck. Your breath hitched in your throat, feeling all kinds of nervous at his words. “If I were a father, all I’d want for my little girl is to know she was being loved and cared for. That she’s happy. No matter who she’s dating.”
Harry wasn’t sure where it came from, putting himself in the role of a father. He could’ve phrased it in a different way, in any other way and yet it felt so right to imagine himself like that. Barely three months into being in a relationship with you and he somehow felt different about everything.
It scared the hell out of him.
“I am happy. I am.” Your eyes softened, glossing over ever so slightly. You squeezed his hand in both of yours,. “And I know you’re right. I just want us to skip to the good part where we’re together with our families, y’know. I loved meeting your mum and even just having dinner with you and my parents was amazing… before I opened my mouth.” You laughed softly but it was over before it even started because you just found yourself overcome with so much emotion. Through everything, Harry never failed to know what to say or how to make you feel better. It sometimes felt like he had a read on you before you even knew what you were feeling. “I just want us to be happy.” You whispered, reaching up to cup his face, “I love you so much Harry. I’ve never felt like this, ever. You’re my person. I want everyone to know that.”
You’re my person.
You’re. My. Person.
Harry repeated the phrase in his mind over and over, nearly bursting at the seams with how much love he felt towards you. You were his person too. Through and through. From the moment he met you he just knew there was something different about you which is why he was always drawn to you. And now he had the words for it.
You were his person.
Harry cupped your face and pulled you in for a deep kiss, one that expressed every single emotion he felt for you. He could taste the sushi and soy sauce on your lips but he couldn’t care less. He was happy and the boring day he was having suddenly turned into the best day.
“You’re my person too.” He breathed, panting slightly from how long the kiss had gone. “Have been from the moment I met you. I just didn’t know it.”
You didn’t know what to do with yourself. There was something about Harry being romantic and professing his affection that got you so unbelievably riled up, you couldn’t contain it. You couldn’t switch it off and while you could pretend it wasn’t happening or ignore the fact you already had a heartbeat between your legs, you didn’t want to.
Things were left so unfinished the other night and you always did wonder what it would be like to be bent over Harry’s desk…
“Harry I mean this so seriously, if you keep talking like that….” You breathed, watching the way his heart-eyes heated up and turned into something dark and smoldering.
“What?” He grinned, cocking his head. “If I keep talking like that ‘what’?”
He was teasing you, trying to coax you into admitting what he already knew you wanted.
“I won’t be able to stop myself…”
“Then don’t” Harry smirked, letting one hand slide down to loop around your neck so he could pull you in to kiss him again. You whimpered softly into his mouth, cupping his jaw while practically melting into his touch. Your other hand fell to his thigh, squeezing it in your palm while your mouths molded together in a kiss so intense your body was floating.
Were you really going to have sex right here?
Yeah. Fuck it.
“Baby.” He groaned against your mouth, forcing himself to pull away from you. Your chest was rising and falling quickly and all he wanted to do was get a handful of your breasts. To tug at your pebbled nipples that he could see so fucking clearly due to the soft cups of the bra you were wearing. At this point he knew exactIy what your tits looked like in all different types of bras.
Stifling back a moan, he slid his hand back up to cup your cheek while running his thumb over your mouth. Your lips were swollen, all pink and pretty and so delicious it was almost painful to not dive back in and kiss you. “We need to stop if you don’t want things to go further.”
“Who says I don’t want things to go further?” you breathed, grabbing onto his spare hand to bring it up to your chest. Your hand pressed over his until he squeezed a good handful of your breast, running his finger over your hard nipple. Shit. “Please.”
“Go lock the door.” He murmured, standing up quickly out of his chair while shrugging off his suit jacket.
You beelined to the door, thankful for the big oak doors Harry’s position afforded him. It didn’t mean you had total privacy. Walls were thin and he had huge glass windows on one side of the office. Anyone could see you two and someone could most definitely hear you.
Which is why you had to be quiet and quick.
Harry met you halfway, crossing the floor in three quick strides to grab your face and kiss you again. Everything was happening so quickly. You were unbuttoning his pants and pulling his dress shirt out of his pants while he guided you backwards towards the small couch he had against one wall. Harry would’ve liked to bend you over his desk, but it was covered in your uneaten sushi and he had a feeling both of you would be starving after your quick fuck.
He almost couldn’t believe it was happening until he remembered all the moments you two practiced exhibitionism before. In his pool, his car and on the boat during your weekend away. He had no doubt it would happen again, most likely at Pleasing where you two could really explore all the things you wanted to.
Harry sat back on the couch, keeping your mouths connected while he undid your jeans button and zipper. It was such an effort wearing jeans and you suddenly regretted wearing pants at all. You quickly made a mental note to wear something easier to remove if you were ever visiting Harry for ‘lunch’ again.
“Why did I have to wear jeans?” You groaned, helping him shove them down your legs to quicken the process before you stepped out of them.
“Don’t wear pants next time.” He breathed, grabbing the back of your thighs to guide you down to straddle him.
“I won’t.” You agreed desperately, threading your fingers through his hair while kissing him to try and keep yourself quiet. You could feel the hard length of his cock the moment you straddled him, all long and thick. You could hardly wait to get him inside you, not when he had said such romantic things and looked so fucking hot in his suit.
There was something so sexy about his workwear and now that you were straddling him in nothing but your sneakers, underwear and t shirt and he was still practically fully dressed… it had never been hotter.
“You’re so hard.” You murmured, tilting your head back to gasp as he grinded your pussy against his cock.
His fingers were dug so hard into your ass you knew you’d be feeling the touch for days. He’d probably come over straight from work and fuck you again, making it known how hot he finds the fresh bruises on your pretty skin. Then he’d take nice care of you and massage your skin, rub cream into the marks and kiss you everywhere until you were reduced to a sleepy mess.
“And you’re so wet. Did telling you I love you really turn you on this much?” Harry smirked, nipping at your neck. He tucked his work pants down to his thighs when he sat down on the couch so you wouldn’t make a mess of them and he was glad he did so. You were soaked. A sticky mess that had fully soaked through both your underwear and his until his cock felt warm with your arousal.
“I like to be romanced.” You smiled, nipping at his bottom lip. “Being sentimental gets me wet, what can I say?”
“Yeah? Maybe I need to do it more often then.” He murmured, pushing your t shirt up until it bunched over your tits. He cupped one of them, keeping firm eye contact with you while running his thumb over your nipple until he pushed the thin lace material of your bra down to expose it. “Tell you how my heart skips a beat when I see you. How fairies are born when you laugh?”
He was only teasing, but there was nothing teasing about the way he wrapped his mouth around your nipple and sucked, tugging at it between his teeth until you were holding back a loud moan. That was torture. “You’re ridiculous.”
“Am I? You’re saying that you don’t feel your pretty cunt flutter when I tell you how my life would be incomplete without you?” He cocked his head, watching the way your eyes glazed over as he continued grinding you over his dick. You could already feel that tingle in your belly and it had barely been two minutes of grinding on him. “Or would you prefer I tell you how badly I need to pump you full of my cum? How you’re a needy little slut for begging me to fuck you right here when anyone could walk in on us?”
And he felt it. He felt the way you clenched against him. How the heartbeat between your legs increased at the first few words of degradation.
“That I love you more for it…” He had this shit eating grin on his face and was happy to nip at your nipple and grind your clit against him until you were a poor tense little thing on top of him. “That did it, didn’t it, baby?”
“I need your cock. Please.” You whispered, dragging his head from your breast upwards so you could kiss him again. He smirked into your mouth and lifted your hips off him, making you rest on your knees instead of his lap so he could untuck his cock from his briefs.
The moment his cock was free he dragged you back down and dipped his fingers between your bodies to nudge your underwear to the side so he had free access to you. “Y’want my fingers?” He offered, knowing it would sting to take him with no prep. Harry knew you liked that, but he also couldn’t assume it’s what you wanted.
The haste shake of your head was all he needed to guide his cock to your entrance, making sure to muffle your quiet whimper by his own mouth while letting you take lead and drop down at your own pace. You had no issues being quiet by yourself. You could make yourself cum dozens of times and barely moan so no one would hear and yet the second you were with Harry all you wanted to do was make noise.
Maybe it was because he always encouraged it. That he loved the way you moaned his name and screamed for him. Or maybe it was because no vibrator or dildo could compare to the feeling of his hard cock splitting you open. The way his veins felt going inside you and how it was attached to the hottest man on the planet.
Your vibrator didn’t wrap its arms around you and your dildo certainly didn’t kiss you filthily and grab your ass to encourage you to take it. They didn’t grab your hips and bounce you or wrap their mouths around your nipples to deliver that bite of pain Harry knew would get you off quicker.
Because this was a quickie and the moment you had his entire cock deep inside you Harry was pulling out all the tricks to get you to finish quicker. He had no issues orgasming fast, nor did he have issues holding himself back to make it last longer. But you… he needed you to finish first when he was inside you and that wouldn’t change just because you two were having a quickie.
“Shit. Shit, Harry.” You gasped, rocking your hips back and forth to grind his cock against your g-spot. With every back and forth movement, your clit rubbed against the trimmed hairs at the base of his cock, the material of his boxers adding extra friction that hit you so much harder than usual.
“I know. I know. Being so good for me. Y’ride me so fucking well, baby.” He whispered, fisting the hair at the back of your head to kiss you again.
It was all gasps and slapping skin and sloppy kisses that were way too loud. If anyone came close to the door they’d know exactly what you were doing but neither of you seemed to care. You were both just trying to reach your highs while keeping your moans to a minimum.
What never stopped though was his filthy fucking dirty talk. Right in your ear when he kissed your neck and rumbled into your mouth when your lips brushed together while you two tried to catch your breaths. It was why you finished so fast. Why your first orgasm tumbled over you barely two minutes into riding him, then a second under two minutes after. Everything about the situation was so hot and you were so beyond turned on it felt easy for your body to respond to every touch and every word. Every utter of I love you.
You severely underestimated the ability for those three little words to cause so much love and so much arousal all at once.
“You’re unbelievable.” Harry breathed out a laugh while tucking himself back into his boxers, watching you hastily pull your jeans back on.
“Me? You’re the one telling me fairies are born when I laugh. In the middle of sex too.” You laughed, running your fingers through your hair.
“I wasn’t exactly lying.” He flirted, grabbing your chin with a cheesy smile before he kissed you. “I love you.”
“I love you.” You repeated earnestly.
“Did that make you wet?” He asked, already expecting the roll of your eyes.
“You’re an idiot. Now sit back down, I’m going to go pee and clean up quickly.” You poked his chest and went to grab your phone then walked to the door.
“Yes, ma’am.” He mock saluted, returning in his chair by the time you unlocked the office door. “Do you know where the bathroom is?”
“Yeah. We passed it on the way to your office. Now don’t eat everything.”
“You better hurry up then.” He teased, shoving a piece of a california roll into his mouth. You rolled your eyes again and left his office, shutting the door behind you on your way out.
Harry’s office was the last door at the end of a hallway. There were a few closed offices on the way, then the bathrooms were closest to the waiting area. It was a short walk, barely 20m between you and your destination which was a blessing considering the cold cum slowly soaking into your undewear. A quick wipe with a tissue wasn’t enough with the amount of cum he filled you with. Which was why it never occurred to you that you’d run into anyone you knew.
You knew there was a possibility, given Harry worked with his friends and… Ethan, but it just didn’t cross your mind because they all worked in different areas and you were a little preoccupied with the mess between your legs. Their jobs overlapped but the only reason they spent so much time together was because they were friends. Otherwise the overlaps could be handled by a third party.
Wednesday’s were Harry’s meeting heavy days and often the day he chose to work at home. They were usually via zoom anyway which is why you chose today to come visit him. He’d be busy with meetings and you booked a slot. You knew he was avoiding any work with Ethan and when it couldn’t be avoided, Harry would get someone else to deal with it.
As bad as it sounded… you were just trying to forget about it all. Or at the very least deal with what happened without dwelling on it. You had shut it out of your mind, ignoring the big part of you that wanted him to pay for what he did. You knew it was a bad coping mechanism but it was better than dwelling on the fact that you couldn’t get him on any charges. With the way he did everything there was no paper trail or evidence so you couldn’t exactly do anything without it being a he-say, she-say situation.
You trusted that Harry was still devising a way to get him out of your lives for good, but for now you were just focusing on working on your relationship supporting him when he had a particularly rough Ethan day. It wasn’t a long term solution by any means, but you couldn’t exactly do anything about it. You had the pictures and he was leaving you alone, that was good enough.
So when you were distracted replying to a message on your phone and a body was distracted by a folder in their hand, you didn’t see them until your shoulders bumped.
“Oh my god, I’m so so-” The words got caught in your throat, eyes widening at the sight of Ethan in front of you.
“No worries babe, should’ve looked where I was-” he replied on autopilot until he actually looked at you and an arrogant pig-like expression morphed onto his face. “Well if it isn’t little y/n. What brings you here?”
In a split second time seemed to freeze. You couldn’t speak, you couldn’t hear. Suddenly the world around you was blurring into fuzzy shapes and black dots. All you could think about was the intimate photos he had of you for weeks. How he had a list of people with copies, most who probably saw them and how he probably got off to them and got off on the fact that Harry was reduced to nothing and had to pay thousands of dollars just to protect you. To get you back.
You weren’t even sure Ethan knew that you and Harry were together, but you knew damn well he revelled in the fact you two had to break up. That he ruined your relationship.
But you couldn’t say any of that even if you wanted to because the world was starting to close around you and you felt this pressure on your chest that became suffocating. It was like air ceased to exist and you feared that if you didn’t get away from him you’d die on the ground right at his feet.
You said nothing and ran past him, ignoring his confused ‘what the fuck?’ that you somehow felt rattling in every corner of your brain. Stumbling, you shoved your way into the women’s bathroom and headed straight to a stall so you could sit down.
You barely made it, collapsing onto the closed toilet seat so you wouldn’t pass out. Your whole body was trembling and it was like you were burning from the inside while simultaneously freezing all over. You had never experienced anything like it and even though you were trying to control your breathing, trying so fucking hard, nothing was working.
With every breath the air became thinner, every tremble you sweat harder. All you could think about was your naked body being in the hands of a stranger, someone who had no permission or right and willingly paid to view you in your most vulnerable state. You couldn’t get it out of your head or your heart or your body.
You were panicking.
And then you felt it, a brief moment of fresh air and crystal clear vision before your lungs closed again. There was a commotion outside the bathroom, two muffled voices that made no sense to you. Then a second later the door was slamming open and you recognised the voice of your lover in his own panic.
“Y/n? Baby where are you?”
You tried to open your mouth and yell out to him but all that came out was a muffled gasp. It didn’t matter whether you yelled to him or not though because he was slamming each stall door open until he found you and when he did he fell to his knees in front of you, right on the dirty bathroom floor. But he didn’t care, not one fucking bit when you were sitting on the toilet looking like you were about to die.
“Oh god, baby. Look at me. Just look at me, okay?” He soothed, cupping your face to try and get your eyes to focus on him.
He knew exactly what was happening. He didn’t know why or how exactly but he figured it had something to do with the bastard he passed on the way to find you. Right now though, none of that mattered. Not when you were having a full blown panic attack right in front of him for the first time in your life. You must’ve been so scared and being scared and panicked was only going to make it worse. He knew that.
“Sharon, I need water.” He called over his shoulder. “And a towel please and you need to make sure no one comes in here, okay?”
You heard her muffled reply before he was looking right at you again. “Look at me, y/n. Come on.” He encouraged, running his thumbs over your cheeks. You finally looked at him, tears streaming down your cheeks. “Good girl. That’s it. It’s okay. It’s okay, y/n. You’re safe and nothings going to happen to you, okay? I’m right here.” Shit. “I’m right here.”
“It’s… I can’t-I can’t breathe.” You whimpered, clawing at your own chest to articulate how horrible you were feeling.
“I know. I know but it’s okay. You’re okay.” His voice was so calm, so steady. You appreciated that. He gently took your hands in his so you wouldn’t hurt yourself and cradled them so his chest. Using one to keep them there, he used the other to grab the back of your neck gently to pull you forward so your foreheads were pressed together. “Just breathe with me, okay? Try and match my breathing.”
“I can’t. I can’t.” You protested, closing your eyes while a pitiful whimper slipped in the small space separating your mouths. You panted desperately, breathing through your small cries while hugging onto his body in hopes that his warmth and calm presence would help you.
“I know it’s hard, but you can do it. Just try, baby. You can do it.” He was trying to encourage you and stay calm. The last thing you needed was feeling any stress or panic from him because that would just make the entire situation worse. But god it was so fucking hard. Feeling your body tremble and watching your pretty face in so much pain was horrible. But he had to stay strong and he just wanted to get you better so he could take you home. It was his only concern.
“Deep breath in, y/n. In… out…”
Harry closed his eyes for a single moment, collecting himself before opening them again to watch you while he guided your breathing again. He kept his tone soft and even, guiding you through it until you seemed to be breathing easier. Your trembling started to cease and you were no longer a stiff board in his arms. You were able to relax into his touch, slumping against him with your forehead on his shirt.
“That’s it. You did so well, baby. Love you so much.” He soothed, letting his lips brush against your head while he ran his hands over your back.
You didn’t respond, but he took how pliant you were becoming in his arms as a good sign. The bathroom door swung open a moment later and Sharon was rushing in with a plastic cup of water and a damp hand towel. She passed them to Harry and wordlessly left once Harry thanked her to guard the door to give you two some privacy.
“Here…” Harry nudged your chin, “Can you drink this?” He held your chin in a gentle grip, feeling like his heart was going to shatter just at the sight of your teary eyes and puffy cheeks. You grabbed the cup from him and started to take shaky sips from it, closing your eyes when he grabbed the damp towel to dab your face.
The two of you remained like that for a while. You weren’t exactly sure how long. Harry just kept rubbing your back and using the cool temperature of the towel to try and calm your splotchy skin. You didn’t say anything and neither did Harry, but even if you wanted to, you had nothing to say. Your mind was blank and if anything… all you wanted to do was go home.
You had never felt so emotionally drained and numb all at the same time. It was like all your compartmentalisation and bad coping skills had suddenly given way and let everything in all at once. There was so much going on in your brain that it all cancelled each other out until you felt absolutely nothing but pure exhaustion and… anger. You were tired and angry and numb and everything was so fucking confusing you didn’t know what was what, just that you were over it.
“Do you want to talk about it?” Harry asked softly, speaking the first words for what felt like an hour. You weren’t sure why it jarred you so much to hear him ask that but you took that as a sign that you needed to go home. You didn’t want to be in this office any longer than you had to be and as bad as it was… you didn’t want to be near Harry either.
You went from needing him and feeling like his presence and his calm was the only way you could breathe to feeling suffocated just by being near him. You didn’t understand it when it wasn’t his fault but somehow felt like he was the one to blame. It was unfair.
It was also unfair to have photos taken of you in your most vulnerable state then be threatened with them. It was unfair to have your boyfriend work with the man who did that to you and suffer no consequences for his actions. Even if Harry did have a plan, you just didn’t fucking understand how he could stand being in the same building as him.
The last thing you wanted was saying something you’d regret because your mind wasn’t clear so it felt like the right decision to go home by yourself, even if you already knew Harry would want to drive you and make sure you got home alright.
“No… um, no I don’t think so.” You shook your head and pressed your hand to the wall of the stall to help you stand up. Your legs were cramped and shaky from being sat down for so long and the rest of you felt like you had a 50kg weight tied to every muscle in your body.
Harry’s brows furrowed, and he quickly stood up as well. There was a switch in your demeanor that he didn’t like. A distant, almost… cold shift that he had only seen in the very beginning of your relationship when he fucked everything up. But he hadn’t done anything so to see you become so withdrawn sent alarm bells ringing everywhere.
“That’s okay, you don’t… you don’t have to.” Harry exhaled a deep breath and squeezed the towel in his hand, “I know it’s hard but it is good to talk about it. I’m here when you’re ready.”
“Thank you.” You smiled softly, crushing the plastic cup in your hand. The sound echoed around the bathroom and it felt entirely too loud for how intense the situation was.
Harry attempted to reach out and give you a comforting squeeze on your arm but was only met with rejection when you shifted your shoulder back to avoid it. You could see the flash of hurt cross his eyes and the way his brows knitted even closer together, but he didn’t dare comment on it. Harry knew how sensitive someone could be after a panic attack so he tried to not take it personally and viewed it as a mistake on his behalf.
But you let him hold you for what felt like forever. You just collapsed in his arms until you could breathe again… still, he had gone through panic attacks and he knew that everyone reacted differently. You could come out of it in the worst mental state and the last thing he wanted was giving you too much space and something happening because of it.
“I’m just going to wash my hands.” The moment you slid past him and out of the stall, you immediately felt a sense of relief from not being so confined anymore. You scratched at your chest a little while watching him join you at the basin beside you to wash his hands as well.
“I’ll drive you home, y/n. I don’t think you should be alone right now,” Harry spoke softly, looking directly at you while scrubbing his hands with the soap.
“I actually think it’s better if I am… alone.” You cleared your throat and walked to the paper towel dispenser to dry your hands. Your back was towards him but you could feel his stare on your back. “I parked at the station so the train will be fine. I think I just need some time alone, if that’s okay?”
“Are you sure? You’ve never had a panic attack before, y/n. I don’t really feel comfortable leaving you all by yourself. At least let me drive you.” Harry offered, trying to be encouraging without too pushy. But it was really fucking hard because every moment you withdrew from him was another moment he felt himself start to panic at what was going on with you. He had no idea what was running through your head and there was no way for him to find out unless you told him yourself.
“I’m fine, Harry. Really.” You sighed, turning around to face him. He looked so… sad. Helpless almost. “I just need to walk it off, okay?”
With a firm nod, Harry reluctantly backed down. It was the last thing on the entire planet that he wanted but what choice did he have?
“Okay. Just…” he inhaled a ragged breath and stepped towards you. Harry wanted to touch you so badly, even just a pinky looped to yours but he stopped himself just before his fingers grazed the back of your hand. “Let me walk you out at least. Please.”
Even though your chest was still clammy, your lungs didn’t feel like they were at full capacity yet and you just didn’t want him to walk you anywhere, you still agreed. He had done so much for you, more than you felt like you deserved. The least you could do was let him walk you out the building.
The walk to get your things and go downstairs was painfully awkward. Thankfully Sharon had warded off the bathroom and hallway so there was no one lingering around, including Ethan but that did very little to dispel how uncomfortable you were. It hadn’t felt like this for months and there wasn’t a single moment since you two started dating where you didn’t want to be around him.
It was a sick feeling, one that just mixed in with your need to go home and die in your bed. Unfortunately, you knew that once you had a shower and cried some more, you’d be pushing it all away again to focus on your assignment. It was cruel.
“Text me when you get home?” Harry asked, voice full of hope. He tucked his hands in his pockets as you adjusted your tote bag on your shoulder. The street was full and busy of the usual lunch rush, all the corporate men and women off to buy an overpriced sandwich or go to their favourite hole-in-a-wall restaurant for takeaway.
You two could’ve been going to your favourite japanese cafe for a coffee right now to walk off your food comas, but instead your nice romantic lunch had turned into something ugly. It felt like it was all your fault and yet somehow your brain was blaming Harry.
Again, even if you didn’t want to agree, you did. “Yeah, of course.”
“Okay, cool. Thank you?” Harry wasn’t sure what to do or say. He was at a loss.
There was nothing about this situation that felt normal or even was normal. He didn’t feel like he could kiss you or even hug you goodbye. It felt like the end of an awkward first date where the polite thing to do was hug goodbye even if neither party wanted to. But Harry did want to. He wanted to follow you right now to make sure you got home okay. That you were okay.
“Bye Harry.” You opted to make the painful goodbye, feeling sick to your stomach at the entire day. You felt dirty and sticky and the complete normalcy of everyone around you just going about their day was kiling you a little bit inside.
“Right… um, okay. Goodbye, y/n. Thank you for lunch.”
It was formal and ugly and all you could do in response was mutter another goodbye and flash him the saddest most pitiful smile you could muster before turning around to walk in the direction of the closest train station.
And just like that, Harry watched you walk away.
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hii dollface, would u write smtg abt hotch being jealous?
like he's trying to hide it from making the team notices when he saw some officer flirting with r?
no pressure in writing, lovey. change it however u want or ignore it if u dont feel like writing it (i completely understands u 🤍)
my love this has lived in my brain so relentlessly <3 i hope you love it!!!! thank you for requesting!! wc: 1.7k
It is incredibly easy to like her.
She’s charismatic in a way that’s almost universally appealing, and he’s memorized the shape of her wide grin. She smiles with her whole face, and Aaron hasn’t really spent too much time trying to make people smile. He’s had success in some ways, but when she smiles at him there’s something in his chest that burns in achingly lovely way.
At first, he had assumed her kindness was a way to win him over. In her first week, she had noticed there was a rip in his tie (which he’s not sure how could even happen) and she’d whipped out a pocket sewing kit, repairing it.
He tries not to think about the fact that she’s beautiful. She is, though, in spirit and in appearance. He’s an expert in controlled presentation, but to some extent she must know that’s he’s fond of her.
When they’d first met (which he can still picture in his minds’ eye- her oversized sweater tucked into her tailored pants, the purple lipstick adorning her beautiful smile) he’d tried to keep his distance. It’s easy to romanticize her, and being her friend felt a little impossible when seeing her as more felt so inevitable.
This plan did not go well, and Aaron had officially tossed it when one day, the babysitter for Jack fell through when he was halfway around the world. She’d picked him up from school and tended to him, and Aaron had come home to a blanket fort on his kitchen floor, and a happy little boy who wanted her to come over every day.
So it's a little hard to ignore how much he adores her.
She doesn’t normally want to come out to the scene and they usually don’t require it, but they’re going out to a place she spent most of her twenties, and she knew people in the local PD, so Aaron had asked her to come.
She’d done so without complaint, although he knows she doesn’t sleep well on the jet. No one knows where the nicer pillows and blankets came from, and Aaron would prefer it that way.
Anyway.
The bullpen of this department is chaotic and a certain caretaking is living at the edge of Aaron’s consciousness, a protective desire to keep her from the loudness and violence that she’s typically protected from.
He’s still thinking this, when he hears her voice over the chaotic hum of the department.
“Oh my god, Logan!”
Her voice is joyful, and when Aaron turns to see who she’s looking at, it’s an agent. He can tell that he’s not a police officer for many reasons- the fact that he’s got a long, shaggy haircut and a 5 o clock shadow and a leather jacket on his shoulders. The local police would be too strict, and he must be some kind of different authority to be allowed to be here.
He hears the stranger call her name back, and they hug.
It’s a quick thing, but imbued with deep fondness. Aaron’s not sure he’s ever hugged her for more than a second- just a congratulations when his commendation came in. She’d smelled like roses.
Now, she’s hugging Logan.
“Hotch,” she says, a smile still in her voice, “This is Logan! We went to graduate school together. He’s brilliant, I can’t believe he’s down here.”
Her voice is seeped in admiration, and Aaron feels an ugly amount of what can only be described as jealousy.
“Great to meet you. You’re the unit chief, yeah?”
“SSA Aaron Hotchner,” he offers the man a curt nod, “Have you met the team?”
He goes through the motions of introducing him to the team- he greets Reid with a warm smile and tells him that he’s read his papers. Logan compliments Emily’s shirt, and Morgan’s watch.
He’s incredibly charismatic.
Is Aaron charismatic? He doesn’t think so. His team, who probably adore him as much as anyone could, still note that he can be harsh, prickly. He never smiles, he knows. He lacks expressiveness. Logan is all fluid movement and easy conversation, and when he takes the jacket off, Aaron sees a great deal of tattoos on his forearm, his sweater sleeves slid up.
He’d smile for her.
What should be a good thing, but hurts- Logan is an excellent consultant profiler. He’s thoughtful and helpful and she has an easy rapport with him. Aaron- he’s so bad at talking to women.
She makes Aaron feel like he’s good at it though. When they drive together, the conversation is easy and feels nice. It’s like sunbathing, basking in the light of her attention and intention.
With the help of the man that Aaron has decided he hates, the case is finished up quickly.
He can’t shake the thought they’ve probably dated. It’s not his business- this crush, although this word feels inadequate for the intensity of the way she makes him feel. It’s a private thing he’s never going to act on- he’s older and her superior, and besides- 9 stab wounds and a lifetime worth of issues is a million times less appealing than someone like Logan. Young, exuberant probably not too afraid to ask for what he wants.
“Drink tonight?” Logan asks the team, and a chorus of yes’s and please’s echo through the emptying bullpen.
“Raincheck,” she says to Logan, “I’ll see you next time I’m in town, yeah?” She beams at him, hugging him in a quick-but-too-long-for-Aaron’s-taste motion, and the string in Aaron’s chest that feels like it’s been pulled all week threatens to pull him under.
After everyone files out, she offers to help him fill out paperwork in his office. It’s just like her, so kind and sweet. Spending her free time filling out reports to make his workload go easier.
About a half hour of amenable silence passes, before Aaron chooses to speak.
“So, you and Logan.”
“He’s great, right?”
Regrettably, Aaron agrees.
“He seems very kind.”
“Yeah, he and his fiancee are really fun. They travel all over, kite-board and do tons of adventure stuff, he’s pretty awesome.”
A moment passes.
It’s like a balloon losing air, the feeling of relief taking the place of panic.
“I thought you two were romantically involved.” He doesn’t know how to verbalize things casually. If he lets it up, he might do something dangerous like tell her that he wants to be someone who romances her, wants to be the person who kisses her after dates and holds an umbrella over her head when she’s caught in the rain. He wants to be what she comes homes to, and it’s a confession living in the back of his throat, threatening to escape at every moment.
She sucks in a harsh breath, and he wonders if it’s a misstep to have told her- it’s not a confession, really. It sounds like one though- why would he care? What makes it his business?
“Not that that’s relevant to me,” he stammers, “You’re free to engage with whoever you’d like-“
“I know, Hotch.” She doesn’t grace him with his first name, but her voice is fond and warm, her doe eyes meeting his. He likes it, he decides.
“I’m not seeing him,” she continues, her body shifting to face him, “I think he’s a little…casual for me.”
He thinks of Logan’s leather jacket and unshaven face, rugged appearance and compares it to how he presents himself- clean cut and sharp lines, his suits tailed to fit him like a glove.
“You prefer something a little more…dignified?” He hears himself say with more confidence then he feels- her implication is clear, but he wonders if he’s mishearing it.
She tips her head back and he hears her lovely laugh ring through the air like something sacred, and he waits to hear her response.
“I don’t know, I just know that I’ve been liking this guy for a while,” she muses, looking down at her fingernails, “But he hasn’t seemed to pick up on any of my hints.”
On one of his braver days, he’d told her that he liked that purple lipstick. He hasn’t seen her without it since. She’d always been so kind to everyone that it was hard to notice when her treatment towards him was special, but he thinks it might be. How quick she offers to help with Jack- gives away a Saturday evening to spend with him, even though she sees too much of his face at work.
Her friend from grad school offered to get drinks, and she’s here, telling him what she looks for in a guy.
He tries to be logical about the whole thing, but it’s a bit hard- she’s funny and warm and Aaron loves being around her- loves her company enough to maybe ask for more of it.
“If this ‘guy’ did like you,” he murmurs, intentionally not meeting her gaze, the precision of which is boring a hole into the side of his head, “How would he go about that?”
He’s not sure what the point of being coy is now, but he can’t seem to stop. He does look down to her and meet her eyes.
“I think I’d probably corner him,” she says breathlessly. They’re quite close together, now. He wonders if she likes his aftershave. She tugs a hundred through her hair, a nervous but incredibly attractive gesture, “Y’know, if everyone we worked with went to get drinks, and it was just us. If he was amenable to that.”
“If he was amenable to that.”
A rush of emotion licks up his spine- it’s fun, flirting with her. The creep of warmth on her cheek, how her fingers are brushing hers.
“I think he might be.”
Purple lipstick, rose perfume mixing with the scent of expensive aftershave- he thinks he might be able to kiss her, now. He’s never been good at knowing when to take the jump, but this is something he can do. He can let her know that he wants it.
She reads him well enough, it turns out, and she kisses him. It’s a surprise and he is so rusty at this and yet- his hand stand on the small of her back, pulling her in and he can feel her lovely smile against him. She’s warm and joyful and she’d kissed him, and all he could do was lean in-
“I think he might be too.” She says, significantly less color on her lips, and more on his, he imagines.
She doesn’t have to wonder, though. When Aaron kisses her again, he decides- he will make her incredibly certain of his affections.
#aaron hotchner#aaron hotchner x reader#aaron hotchner fanfiction#aaron hotchner x you#aaron hotchner x y/n#aaron hotchner fanfic#aaron hotchner one shot#aaron hotchner fic#aaron hotchner oneshot#aaron hotchner imagine#aaron hotchner imagines#aaron hotchner blurb#aaron hotchner blurbs#aaron hotch hotchner#aaron hotch x reader#aaron hotch imagine#aaron hotch fanfiction#aaron hotch x you#aaron hotch fluff#aaron hotchner fluff#aaron hotch fic#hotch#hotch x reader#hotch x you#aaron hotchner x fem!reader#ssa aaron hotchner#agent hotchner#criminal minds#criminal minds fic
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A Doe in Fall (part 7)
⟢HumanAlastor x FemaleBurlesquerReader - A Doe in Fall
Part 1 - Pretty in Red smut💦
Part 2 - Liar smut💦
Part 3 - A Tragedy smut💦
Part 4 - Enough
Part 5 - Too Much
Part 6 - Learning smut💦
Part 7 - Recognition smut💦
Part 7 Recognition
It was time to start again. Alastor couldn't forget what his mother had wanted, even if she didn't ask it of him directly. And while he finds his comfort again in killing, Detective Brady finds a lead.
「Warnings/Promises: Human Alastor x Fem Burlesquer reader, smut, reader's thighs as ear muffs, referencing cruel racists in the early 20th century south, reference to marital violence, pussy eaten, p in v sex, no creampie BOO, bad dancing, Alastor's southern accent, Alastor's mother, gossip, murder, greed , two idiots pretending they aren't madly in love, poor family planning, lots of 1920's slang with notes for your ease」
I think I fixed the broken tag list!
....it's been over a month. Here's nearly 9000 words of our favorite idiots. I feel weird labeling this smut now as...we are...kinda past the smut point and just making sweet sweet love. lol ugh gross.
thank you to everyone whose offered help, donated, and shared the word about my mom! It’s been an immense help and has made her a little emotional (in a good way) <Florida stole my moms teeth— explanation and donation link>
unrelated, anyone want some RadioDust?
Minors…. Minors. My inbox counts as interacting when you’re literally in there requesting smut. I know your bio has no age but baby honey darling I can tell by your writing. 🔞 Do Not Interact 🏠🚗
A development he knew was coming even if no one else believed him. A drug addict with debts to the local crime syndicates disappearing was neither suspicious nor a mystery. Everyone was confident it was obvious Tommy was at the bottom of Lake Pontchartrain or halfway to California.
But not to him, not for Detective Brady. He had been on the beat for the better part of a year, convinced there was a connection between some of the disappearances in town.
No one wanted to hear it though, most people didn’t even care the people were missing. Only the occasional wife, concerned how she would keep a roof over her head and food in her kid’s bellies with the man of the house gone. But other than that, no tears or chest beating for the missing men and women.
Which made him confident there were countless more unreported cases. Just because no one missed them, a crime is a crime.
But, no bodies, no blood, no crime scenes… he looked like he had lost the fucking plot to his colleagues.
The city didn’t want the bad press, not to mention the fact there was no actual crime to be reported. Someone up and left down? Okay, he was a wife beater? Probably left with his mistress. The cruel den mother of the home for unwanted kids? Her assistant takes the lead and she moves onto a new town to menace. Probably running from the people angry with her.
But he finally had something. Tommy was pimping out dancers, and even laid hands on one. Surely there was a man looking for revenge for that. Can’t knock around a man’s woman and have it go unanswered.
So he tried again to find the woman whose only name he knew was a moniker. Autumn Hind.
Every time Brady came to the theater, another excuse. You left early. You were on the roof smoking—- oh, you slipped out the back. Weekends were your off days, so that was useless.
“You’re obsessed.” Detective Freeman threw an eraser he’d picked off his pencil at Brady. He had seen the man devolve slowly over the past couple months.
“Thanks.” Brady was staring at his notes.
“Not a compliment, Kenny. Shit happens, people leave town. You’re acting like a handful of no shows are some conspiracy.” Freeman came to stand behind Brady, leaning over to read his notes, “How can you even read that chicken scratch?”
He clapped the notebook shut, “Every report was a person less than liked. What are the chances they all leave town in the middle of the night, last seen in the same general area?”
Freeman patted his shoulder, “Did you just ask me why a bunch of assholes,” he stood up and made a show of stretching out tired muscles, “who liked illegal hooch* and jazz with plenty of enemies disappeared?” (*booze)
Brady slapped his desk, “There! You said it! They had enemies. But what— what if they had one enemy in common. A bar manager or — or a,” he was still looking for that link.
“Kenny, the boogeyman isn’t roaming New Orleans killing people. If the higher ups don’t care, if the families don’t care, it doesn’t matter. Let it go.”
The sleep deprived detective sunk into his wooden chair, swiveling side to side anxiously, “Tommy’s mother cares.”
“Yeah well mom’s are famously bad judges of character.” Slipping on his jacket, he shot a worried look to his partner, “Ya gonna go home? Janet’s probably a mess. You’ve been keeping late hours.”
“Nah not yet. I gotta get to the theater before this dame goes ghost on me again.”
“Yikes, still? You’ve been chasing her for a while.” He was making a slow inching walk to the door.
“It’d be easier if I had some support. I gotta do this on my own time.” A deep sigh, well past the point of hiding his frustration with his colleagues and bosses. Freeman looked over the wrinkled shirt and wilted tie, evidence of a man losing his grip.
“Welp, good luck buddy. Hope you get to the bottom of whatever this is.” He gestured at the messy desk and disheveled man, “See ya tomorrow.”
Brady waved without looking up. His eyes were staring into the black leather of his notepad. Tommy was the only recent assumed victim with any real suspicion. The woman whose husband disappeared after going to see a show? Only enemy to him was her, and she wasn’t strong enough to take him down. Deadend.
Most recent, nice young man from up north. Went out for a good time, hoping to catch a little lady for some stress relief, according to his coworkers. Never showed up at work the next day. No one had a bad word to say about the man. Making him an outlier, but still. He was young, strong, soft spoken. Not an enemy in sight but no family to worry, either. Deadend.
But Tommy. Someone cared he was gone. He was in the jazz game, the drug dens, the illegal drink business, and had a heavy hand. He was the perfect bad man, right?
He looked across his desk. Bad men. The occasional unsavory woman. Maybe it was just their time. They pissed off the wrong people.
Or the wrong person.
Someone who worked downtown, someone into dance and drink, someone with nights free to do his work. Maybe a hired gun? No, some of these people didn’t have the money for that.
Plus, one person and so many missing? That would be unheard of, it’d be some kind of record for Louisiana.
A record Brady could claim.
When he entered the theater James, the manager who replaced Tommy, noticeably rolled his eyes, getting in front of the man. “It’s real bad for business to have a cop in here all the damn time. Come on, if you’re not here for a raid then could you be a little less obvious.”
Brady looked past him, “What do you mean?”
“You’re— what is it? What can I do for you?”
“Here again for Miss Autumn. Care to give her real name yet?”
“No can do. Ain’t my business to tell. She’s finished her set, asked to head home early.” Brady turned and kicked a chair over, a large man approaching behind the manager before seeing the hip badge and backing up. “Nah we’re not doing that. We’ve told her you’ve come by but she’s a busy lady. Several gigs here and there. Enough, you’re harassing the dancers now.”
With a snap, Brady had his finger in the manager’s face, “Whatcha gonna do? Call the cops?”
“She. Isn’t. Here. What the fuck do you want? For me to tie her up and bring her to your station?”
That’d be ideal.
A month, nearly. Coming once or twice a week to try and speak to you but every time he missed you. He was going to snap if he heard one more time you were gone. Maybe everyone was in on it. Maybe you werenin the back right now laughing at him.
Brady scanned the room, “Where’s she live?”
“How the fuck would I know— please, leave.” James gestured to the doors.
He lifted his badge up, waving it at the patrons seated closest to him, “Yall know it’s still illegal to partake-,”
“Jesus! Enough!” The manager pushed him back, flashing an apologetic smile to the guests, “She moonlights Sundays at The Dime near the park on 5th, singing for a friend. That’s all I got about her life off stage. Will you fucking go?”
The detective perked up, “See, was that so hard?”
Finally, he could feel his fingers grasp the shifting shadow that was his only lead.
✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦
“I never said sorry.”
You turned your head, not expecting him to say something serious. Waiting, he didn’t add explanation. Sorry? What had he done… ran out of milk? Forgot to bring in the towels before it rained last week? A quick search of your memory yielded nothing.
“For what?”
He was staring off in front of him. “For putting you in danger before. In the park. I am sincerely sorry.”
You’d somehow almost forgotten. It’d been weeks. Every bad feeling that night had brought you had been carried away by good morning kisses and gentle words before sleep. Nearly every night was spent in his bed, Alastor dropping you off at your apartment when he went downtown for work. The incident in the park was a different lifetime already.
Had he really put you in danger? Or had you rushed into the danger of his hobby to feel closer to him?
“I put myself in that situation. You didn't throw me at that guy. I don’t do a damn thing I don’t want to do. You should have learned that by now.”
Tough act for a woman who jumped up to pour some man’s coffee.
You shook your head, you had to stop equating doting on Alastor as a show of weakness. It wasn’t. Even if admitting that meant admitting you were wrong.
But he had put you in danger’s way, he knew it. “No, you wouldn’t have ever been in that situation if it wasn’t for me.”
Your laughter bounced off the car windows, “Alastor, you met me getting choked to death by a strange man. People will always make dangerous situations for women to be in. Don’t act like you’re special.” A sly smile to ease his anxious heart. “I’d rather be in danger for you than just because I’m a woman. If it’s gonna happen anyway, might as well be worth something.”
His hand slipped onto your thigh, expression softening before his own smile grew again, “Don’t lie to my face so easily. I am very special, we can all agree.”
You looked around, the two of you alone in his car on a side street, “All? You know the trunk is still empty, right?”
“Oh, is that so? You’re quite dangerous yourself, I nearly forgot why we were here.” He patted his pockets to make sure he had what he needed. “When I give you a wave, back up to me, okay? Don’t leave the car. Just drive off if-,”
You kissed his cheek, “Shut it. Not a chance. Go give em hell, baby.”
Alastor crumpled against his steering wheel momentarily, your words cutting his heart open in a most wonderful way. He could never have predicted getting kisses before beginning his dark work. What had he done to deserve this? Perhaps proof someone in hell was in full support of his actions. Straightening his back and checking his hair and glasses in the mirror, he flashed you a smile before slipping out of the car.
When Alastor said he was ready to begin killing again, you were a mix of excited and scared. Excited for normalcy to return but scared of the dangers presented there in. You’d been dodging the blue eyed detective for a while already, and moving forward meant possibly making mistakes he could grab a hold of. Not mentioning the risk of someone hurting Alastor again…but for your part in everything, you and Alastor found a compromise.
A deal had been made. You’d stay in the car and bring it to him when he was done. He had asked you flee if something went wrong but you both knew that wasn’t going to happen. Crawling into the driver’s seat, you tried to remember what he had taught you. How to get it started up, how to make it go backwards. How to make it go, in general. You’d never driven a car. Well, not until Alastor insisted on teaching you. Driving up and down the long stretch of road he lived on, Alastor white knuckling the door handle as you jerked the car forward with every failed shift. You had started on his land, but he feared for his home's safety with you behind the wheel.
Your hands slipped down the steeling wheel, big and round. Your mother would’ve had a hoot had she seen you in the driver’s seat. Clearing your throat, you leaned into the back of the car and double checked the canvas was properly secured.
Another man tonight. The few times you’d both gone out for leisure, having preferred to spend time alone at home, Alastor had gotten gossip that piqued his interest.
You remembered the way the woman’s hand touched his arm when she leaned in. “You didn’t hear it from me but it’s best to avoid French Study on Thursdays. Real piece of work slipping something in drinks and robbing people.” He reported what she had said back to you. It’d panicked you, realizing you were closer to being on Alastor’s list than you’d realized.
“No, the issue isn’t the stealin’. It’s what he does with the people with,” he had been delicate as he said it, taking another long sip of whiskey, “other things of value. And the fact this man has no need to steal. It’s ridiculous! His family has been land ownin’ and well off for generations.” Alastor was always impassioned when discussing the things he hated, even when slipping into drunkenness. His accent came through when he had too much to drink, his real accent. The accent his mother had. “You robbed men for power balance, for their assumptions you were easy to manipulate to begin with. He? Uh, Him? He’s just a piece of shit. He thinks he’s better than everyone else. And no one would report him ‘cause his family name.”
His drink spilled a little, when you had offered to clean it he just slipped the button up off. He lost his usual classy air as the bottle emptied. Which you actually liked.
The benefits of drinking on his back porch was no need to worry about decorum. Music was softly spilling from the open window behind you, Alastor’s prized record cabinet spinning the newest presses.
“It’s like there’s a little bug under my skin,” he wiggled his fingers over his sternum, “It’s gonna dig into my bones if I don’t cut it out.”
Despite your own drunkenness, you nodded and followed along, “So, ya gonna kill ‘em?”
Alastor pouted, making you snort, “I don’t want to think about that right now.” He enunciated every word clearly in his practiced and professional voice.
You’d ended the evening playfully arguing the merits of prohibition on the jazz scene and watching Alastor dance around the wrap around porch. But the conversation hadn’t ended for him.
Little hints he was still focused on it popped up over the following week. Alastor randomly asking you how it felt to be drugged, did you wake up in pain? Embarrassed? Scared? You caught him staring at the greenhouse from the window one morning, lost in thought. Before he had finally said he wanted to go out again, you understanding what that meant, you’d seen him turning a dinner knife over and over in his hand impatiently.
And now here you were. In the car beside a park late Thursday, Alastor having done some scouting while you’d finished up early at the theater.
It took hours. Which was good, it meant Alastor wasn’t rushing. He liked the stalking aspect of killing, of watching someone from across a room knowing exactly how their night would end. And as that man whose name would soon be buried with him alternated smiling and barking orders at staff, Alastor felt his stomach flutter. Like watching a slab of meat slowly turn over the fire. The crueler he was, the worse he acted, the more Alastor found his fingers tapping on the bar with anticipation. Perfect. Damn yourself more. No fake smiles or double faces, no, people like him didn’t even try to play the game others were forced into. Born with money and land already theirs, they didn’t even know the rules.
But Alastor did. Alastor mastered them at the tender age of 14. When he realized his father’s features were a shield. His mother’s lessons on manners and charm his weapons. The first time he was in mixed company, when someone leaned in and whispered a cruel “prank” he had planned for a young dark skinned woman on the other side of the room, he understood. They pulled back and smiled at him, and he managed to muster one of his own. Just smile, they’d take it to mean whatever they wanted it to mean because they thought he was of the same mindset. They assumed it. Like so many other things people would assume about him as he grew.
When he told his mother the story after getting home, she shook her head. When he had asked her what he should have done, she set down her book.
“Well, I’d love to say you should have stood up for her. But I’d also like to have my son above ground.”
He asked her why she couldn’t have both.
“Sweetheart, we don’t usually get the choice to do either, let alone both.”
He offered a solution, after a moment of thinking, “I shoulda buried him first then.”
“Wouldn’t it be nice if that was how the world worked?” She returned to her book, “If God just struck em down dead as soon as they hurt people. Better yet, before.”
It would be nice. It was nice. Because Alastor couldn’t wait for God to make the world his mother mentioned. He grinned ear to ear, gloves a second skin, as the man crawled backwards in the grass like an animal cornered. His heart was pounding in his ears. Where to cut first? The gut, his family fat and soft from the money they made off the labor of others? The pale neck of a man who never spent a day outside, instead indoors drugging strangers for sport? The chest covered in a fine cotton shirt he didn’t appreciate?
He wished he had many arms, as many as he could imagine, to slash and tear in tandem.
“What do you want? Money?” the animal asked him.
Alastor shook his head no. No, he didn’t want money.
“Do you know who I am?”
Alastor nodded. “That is precisely why I am here.”
Would he beg? Cry? Bargain? Experience told him it’d be the latter.
“Alright well, if you know who I am you know you’re making a mistake. Here.” The man opened his wallet and pulled out a few greenbacks, holding them out for Alastor. Alastor’s smile softened slightly, remembering tossing you a wallet once before.
He reached down with his left hand to take the money, but instead grabbed the man’s wrist. Swiftly, quicker than the man could process, he took the knife tucked into his belt behind his vest and stabbed the man in the stomach.
Staring into his eyes, he could see his own image looking back at him. Smiling.
Alastor grabbed your face with both wrists, hands bloody and one still holding the knife, and kissed you when he’d flagged you down.
“Is this for bringing the car around without running you over?” Your eyes glanced at the knife beside your head. He apologized, tossing it into the trunk.
“No, just happy to see you.” A mischievous grin that made your knees weak, his body shimmied closer until he was pressed against you, stealing another kiss. His arms stretched out to keep from bloodying you. Your fingers slid up his cheeks to return the kiss. “Thank you, dear.”
When you returned home, to his home, that is, you took to task bringing in the laundry he’d left on the line and putting away the things still on the counters from breakfast. You couldn’t resist going to the second floor room and looking down into the greenhouse. You couldn’t see perfectly well, but you could see nonetheless. Alastor didn’t want you in the greenhouse yet when he was working. He said it was the ugliest parts, the kind that would sure give you nightmares or rob you of your appetite.
Considerate. But, it only made you more curious. Would you be sick if you saw? Would you never eat meat again?
What would you do if you didn’t have any reaction at all?
You watched Alastor leave the greenhouse and lock the door behind him, so you hopped down the stairs to meet him in the hall beside the kitchen.
He’d been sweating, shirt open to reveal a thin white undershirt, and under his arm was a canvas roll. He lifted it up, “Tools. Rinsed them off but I’d like to dry them under the electric lights.” You grabbed the aprons from the wall hooks, Alastor letting you slip it over his head and tie it for him. “Why so tight?”
“I like the way it makes your waist look.” You’d seen him wear it when making biscuits. It made his shape so clear. It reminded you of watching water drip down his sides and roll off his hips in the shower.
He beamed, “I’m listening. What exactly do you like about my waist?” Sharp brows raised as that friendly tongue peeked out at you.
“Hush.” You cooed.
You stood on the long side of the table, him at the short, and took turns wiping the tools dry and checking the other’s work.
As he grabbed each one he would tell you what he used it for. Holding up the garden shears and explaining the point along the blade that had the strongest force. The advantage of curved pruning blades when used on a human body. His eyes were gleaming as he spoke, looking so lovingly at each item like it was a loyal pet.
He finally noticed you were grinning and chuckling softly, so he dropped his smile for dramatic effect, “What? What’s so funny?”
Shaking your head, you set down the next item for him to inspect, “Nothing. You’re just so cute when you’re talking about your passions. Your face lights up from the inside out.”
His breath hitched, smile actually lost as he processed every syllable. Your turn now to notice him staring as you looked up from your work. You recognized that look though, the wide eyes and serious lips. The air of the kitchen felt like the atmosphere before a thunderstorm rolled in.
Alastor set the tools back onto the canvas one by one and carried them to the counter. Before returning he picked up a small knife and set it near the edge of the table.
“Come here.” He nodded his head to space in front of him. The way he said it, that tone, made your heart begin to skip beats.
You slid between him and the table, Alastor lifting you up with a startling ease and setting you onto cool wood. Kicking your legs a little, you set nervous hands onto your lap. You wanted to touch him. To pull him by the apron straps into you.
“How do you always say the right things?” He closed the distance between you, one hand on your neck while his mouth came to your ear. “The things I didn’t know I wanted to hear?”
Swimming. Your mind was swimming. “Why is your idea of right the same as my idea of the truth?” You could feel the grin. Sighing into your ear, down your neck, his hands grabbed your hips and pulled you off the table enough to press your core into his clothed erection. Even through his pants and the apron, you could feel him clearly. When did he get so hard? You always wondered in those moments if it was the topic of discussion. Or the knives. Or your need. Biting your lip wasn’t a thought out action, but Alastor loved to see it. Rolling his hips into you in response.
“Wanna go upstairs?” you asked.
He shook his head, slipping off his glasses.
“Oh no, don’t even wanna see me?” You teased, but firm hands held you tighter to him in response.
“I won’t be letting you get far enough away from me for that to be a problem.”
When he leaned down and his lips so very gently pressed into yours, you could feel it. That missing something from before. It was in the air, it was rolling off of his body and dampening your senses. A desire, a drive that you felt that first time you had sex with him in that apartment above the theater. A motivation that was lacking last time in his bed.
His eyes were staring down into yours, waiting for your response. Eagerly you replied by chasing his mouth with yours. A chain of kisses as you tried to ever remember enjoying kissing another person as much as him.
Not a single soul. Why did it feel like this was all you ever needed? Eyes closed and lips on lips, hands in his hair, it felt like you’d been holding your breath all of your life. His body on yours was a gasp of air.
For Alastor, he couldn’t even think of breathing when around you. Let alone when your mouth was on him. Every time you touched him all he could think about was the word ‘affection’.
So when your tongue swiped up his lips, he moaned as he opened for you. Not because he was new to kissing someone with so much lust. He’d grown accustomed to the things you did to him. No, because you were a fever that had taken hold of him and your kiss the medicine that soothed his delirium.
He wondered, was that why people called it ‘love sick’?
“You really like me, don’t you?” He asked, nose sliding up your jaw.
An opportunity presented to you. A chance to spill over the edges.
You pushed it away, legs wrapping around his waist and pulling him closer.
“Something like that, yeah.”
His hands pressed flat against the table to balance the deep roll of his hips against you. One of your own fell behind you to keep from falling backwards, the other flung over his shoulder. When you moaned into his cheek he captured the sound with his mouth and slipped his tongue back into you.
You liked him. He’d known people to love and not like their partner an ounce, but the way you appreciated his quirks made his heart sing in its brittle cage. You never ceased to see him. The issue with always putting on a show is people tend to be disappointed when the actors become human again. But you never met his persona. He was knife wielding, bloodlusting Alastor from the first word. So when he was himself, you recognized him clearly. Because he was all you ever knew.
And you liked him
You appreciated him.
He dared to think maybe he could inspire more from you. A thought that made him twitch below the belt.
Closer. He needed you closer. He needed you so near to him that he’d never forget the feeling of being wanted. It’d be imprinted on his chest and his arms and his lips.
Impatient hands slipping up your sides, along your neck, down your chest. His greedy mouth suddenly understanding the same greed he once marveled at in your own kisses. Hot tongue sliding over yours, delving deeper into you with every return.
When his hands seemed to come to an agreement, they yanked you forward again. You’d fall off ass-first if he pulled you any further.
You watched with only slight horror has he grabbed the small knife and hiked up your dress in tandem. A gulp, worried the other shoe had finally dropped on a too-good situation.
“Are you particularly attached to these panties?” His eyes were looking up and over his glasses.
“No?” Did you really need panties, you wondered. Ever? Girdles we’re falling out of fashion perhaps you’d all be naked again soon enough. Maybe you two could start another Eden. A pomegranate’s juice the new red staining his skin.
Not even a tremble, his hands lifted each side and sliced them free.
“Oh?” You didn’t have a real question in mind when he tucked the panties into his back pocket. Just a need to express you saw it and didn’t understand it.
Alastor took your hand and pressed it against his hardened length, eyes locked onto yours with a sharpness to them. But when your hand took hold of him and squeezed, everything softened in his features. Funny how where one area grew stiff another melted.
He rolled his eyes closed as you finally undid his belt and pants. A struggle you didn’t see, Alastor trying to keep from pouncing on you like a horny virgin. He didn’t want to rut into you, he didn’t need the pleasure. He needed something he couldn’t see or explain. He just knew you held it behind your teeth.
When your skin pressed into his and you both moaned together he was sure you were the same. One person, split into insufficient parts. Finally lined up flush in place.
When you circled your hips against his aching cock, he wondered what you were chasing after. Was it the pleasure? He’d give it to you in spades.
He was on his knees with his face between your legs before you could close your thighs in surprise.
You needed both hands now to keep from falling back onto the table. “Alastor,” a whine.
He knew better than to talk with his mouth full, so he let two fingers work their way into you with shallow thrusts. Easing you open for him.
“Yes?” His eyes didn’t leave his fingers, glistening under the kitchen light. You hadn't thought much ahead past his name, once his fingers were in you and curling up to find your spongy and soft bundle of nerves your mind had gone empty.
“We can just fuck, if you’re horny.” You watched him watching himself.
“Where’s the fun in that?” His mouth returned to your mound, broad tongue forming a point and finding your clit.
A lazy moving tongue would be frustrating if not for his fingers punishing your g-spot. Consistency was key, and his hand was focused and skilled.
Suddenly you remembered the piano in the sitting room. That’s where you knew that movement from. That clearly practiced muscle memory.
Alastor felt confident everywhere but rarely did he feel comfortable. When your thighs came together and squeezed him at the ears, he felt positively cozy. Would you be so kind as to be his ear muffs come winter? He’d have to remember to ask when his mouth was free. How many cold nights he could now rest assured he would have warmth just a little dive of his head away.
Lowering his mouth, nose buried in your muff, he wriggled his tongue in with his fingers. Not enough, rarely was anything enough any more. He stilled his hand and prodded at your sensitive walls with that intrusive tongue, relishing the little movements you made in response. Taking his digits out entirely, he buried his wet muscle as deeply as he could reach.
The huffs of exhales you were making triggered a moan from him that you felt through your skin. His enjoyment was tripling your pleasure.
Goosebumps ran up your arms at the combine sensations of his moaning and prodding.
When his lips and tongue returned to their uneven teasing of your clit, three fingers now swiping past your inner spot with every thrust, your hands came to his head. Fingers slipping through his hair and gripping every time your body shook. Encouragement, the more you tugged the surer he was he was doing the right things.
And oh, he was. You said the right things but Alastor always seemed to act on them. Your senses lodged themselves between the even stroking of your g-spot and the unpredictable movements of his tongue. One kept the pressure rising as your orgasm climbed, the other pushed you along jolt by jolt.
Curious thing. That night in the park he didn’t have much reaction to your enjoyment, but he found himself not fully softening in his lap as he continued. Normally, unless still physically stimulated or the rare time you stirred something in him, he wasn’t very… battle ready.
But the feeling of you pulling him in by the head, fingers in his hair and thighs at his cheeks; this was different than the others. He was sure now it wasn’t just physical pleasure you wanted. His pride said it was more.
Dozens of times before— he truly was a rake in some aspects, though admittedly it was all in the pursuit of avoiding “sex”, as defined by most, not chasing it — he helped a date find release with his tongue. But it never did anything for him. They moaned and said his name and screamed. Which was lovely. Who doesn’t enjoy recognition?
When you said his name, it was heavier. It was material, it had mass and as its gravity began its pull he found his mind circling that sound. He was pleasing his darling, not placating. And it made him react in that unusually crass way.
He felt like an apex predator when killing, tearing open animals made for him to hunt. But you made him feel baser. Prey in your gentle bite.
As your orgasm mounted, you began tugging at his hair to pull him off. You didn’t need him to stop, but everything was suddenly too sensitive. It was alarming to feel your body rocking from overstimulation. A strident cry filled the kitchen as your back arched off the table. He didn’t let up, despite how much you thrashed under his mouth. Rolling pleasure, muscles electrified and shaking beyond your control.
You patted his head harshly, “Good, I’m good. Alas—tor! Fuck!”
Ah, he loved when you swore. It punctuated your otherwise preternatural aura with a touch of humanity.
He stood and leaned over your now reclining body. Your pussy still clenching and legs shaking as he admired his work. You admired his shape in his apron, his broad shoulders and sharp eyes. Caught between your legs like a lion in a mouse trap; he acted like he had no way free of you. His grin widened and he made a display out of licking each finger clean. Eyes never leaving yours.
You knew many men to squawk at going down on a woman. To balk at wearing an apron. To grimace at the suggestion of cooking a meal while their lady took a nice bath or enjoyed a coffee. Alastor seemed to not think twice about any of it. How nice it would be. To have a partner beside you, to not be the woman in the often referenced “behind every great man is a great woman.”
“Alastor, I want you.” You pulled him down by the neck and stole a kiss. When he began to stroke himself fully back to life you pressed that hand to his chest. “Not like that. Though I’m not declining the offer.”
His eyes saw something in yours. “Sweetheart, you have me. There is no part of me that isn’t possessed by you. I know we keep things relatively… tightlipped for safety but I’m your fella and you’re my gal.” His nose touched yours. “But if you want more, I’ll become more. I’ll break myself apart and make myself better.”
Your heart sank. Sitting up to command a little authority, a feat given you were sitting panty-less on a kitchen table, “Don’t you dare. I’ll always meet you where you are, got it? Don’t go… groping around in the darkness for me; trying to find what I need. I’ll always come to you. Because you’re more than enough as you are.”
A little cough to clear his tightening throat, “I’ve not had a day of darkness since you arrived.” A kiss to your forehead before a soft thumbpad wiped at the corner of your eye. “Did I make you sad?”
You wanted to say it. But not now, not like this. You didn’t want Alastor to connect love and sex. To think one was necessary for the other.
While you were coming to learn how lovely it was to pair the two together, it was a fact they were wholly independent things. And you couldn’t allow him to think they were a set.
“You’ve made me too happy. It’s absolutely terrifying.”
But Alastor had found your expressions of acceptance always tumbled the circle of Love to overlap with that of Sex. It was only in that mixed space did he find desire in pleasure.
A wicked smirk, “Let me pile on my affections and drown out your fears.” His hips rolled into you again, a surprising eagerness returned to his lap. “Can I continue?”
With a nod and a smile, “But not another word of change, buster.” You leaned back on your hand for support. Alastor was happy to return to your heat, lining up and sinking into you. An embrace like no other, one he found particularly earnest when with you.
Close. Finally. You began where he ended, a natural extension of who he was and who he could be. The things he could have. A relieved sigh he didn’t try to hide before he began moving, a moment when his tension could melt. You were both an unseasonably warm autumn day and the cool comforting shade of an unfamiliar tree. Both the heat and the relief.
He watched your body rock against the table, even fully dressed you managed to look more scandalous than any show he’d seen downtown. He was grateful he didn’t seek this comfort often in others, the way his mind melted made him feel vulnerable. He couldn’t think straight. And then you began to make those lovely little groans, high pitched and needy, and he was sure his soul was errant.
As his thrusts deepened, cock no longer kissing your cervix but ramming into you with good intentions, you dropped back as you lost the battle against his hips.
Alastor’s arms slid up our waist and pulled your arms towards him, “Too far, I can’t see your face.”
Your arms were slung over his shoulders as your back curved for him, “You don’t need to see my face.”
“Tsk, wrong.”
Your new favorite place was right in front of him, wherever his line of sight was you wanted to be in it. Nose to nose, heads tilting to recapture soft lips and softer moans.
Until the softness left, Alastor’s skin slapping against yours as he dragged those lovely sounds from you. He watched your eyes roll closed, mouth open as you moaned with the safety of the seclusion of a country home. A thought bubbled up, inspired by you.
“I want the neighbors to hear you.” That smile half cocked across his upsettingly handsome face. His hand slipped between you both to repeat the motions he learned before. Hard and fast, no choice but to raise your voice.
Your head fell back, clit still sensitive, “You don’t have neighbors!” A new moan hitting the walls.
“I do— just a few miles down the road, dear.” His mouth latched onto your neck but he didn’t suck like he wanted, he couldn’t bite. Your skin was your job, your body not his to mark. Suddenly he remembered, “Do you still have that make up? For your bruises?”
You couldn’t understand why he would bring that up while balls deep in you but you nodded.
“Would it work on your neck?” He nipped lightly.
It clicked, “Absolutely.”
You felt like a teenager again. When his tongue swiped over your soft flesh before he began to suck on the skin there you could feel the heat rising off your chest. You could feel him everywhere, and with the knowledge he wanted to hear you, you tossed your shame out of the kitchen window and relaxed into the pleasure.
As he moved up your neck he left little marks behind. There was no sense left you didn’t occupy. He could smell the soap and sweat of your skin, taste your cunt still on his tongue, your sights and sounds a decadence he couldn’t get used to. And the feeling of you… velvety walls, a feeling finer than silk as he slipped in and out of you. So incredibly hot on his most sensitive areas, pulling him back in with admirable strength.
He felt his orgasm ratcheting up but tried to hold back. He wanted more time to experience your ecstasy, to wallow in your openness. Even pressed skin to skin now wouldn’t satisfy that deep desire for this unique level of intimacy. So he wanted to enjoy it for as long as he had it.
But, he knew he should prepare. “I don’t want to dirty your dress.” A lust heavy voice penetrating the nap of your neck. He’d made a risky release before at your urging, something he often thought about when work got quiet. But he knew he needed to think clearer now.
“Then don’t.” A terrible reply but you wanted all of him, every drop of his hunger for you. “Keep the mess in me.”
“My dear,” he slowed his hips, autopilot keeping them moving at all, “I don’t think now is the time for,” you tightened around him to trip him up, which worked spectacularly. Alastor had take several seconds before continuing, “talks on family planning.”
A pang of nausea and fear, small and sharp in your abdomen. It wasn’t that you weren’t aware of biology, just that Alastor brought out your baser animal instincts, too. And before, when he came buried as deeply as he could reach, it felt like you’d actually completed some ritual. Bears hibernated, birds migrated, Alastor came in you.
You’d never let a man do that before Alastor. “I just want to… accept everything you are willing to give me.”
He bit his bottom lip to redirect some attention away from his now throbbing member, “And when you’re sure on me, I’ll always provide.”
A pout that he kissed, you accepted the terms. An argument could be made you were already very sure, but you were well aware how naive that sounded when you’d known each other for so little time. Had a coworker told you she’d met a guy and within three months was ready for… the consequences, you’d have laughed and asked if she was drunk or just stupid.
Alastor wanted to provide. But he knew you’d be the one with the raw end of the deal, he couldn’t risk coercing a decision in the heat of the moment. If your mind was half was addled as his with pleasure then you were in no state for big decisions.
Life changing decisions.
Decisions that filled empty homes.
Fuck, why wasn’t he a less considerate man?
When his kiss deepened, so did his ministrations. He was fully sheathed and so unwilling to draw back more than a couple inches you wondered if he had changed his mind. It felt like a man not wanting to stray too far from home. One hand on the small of your back, his other other on the back of your neck. When he pulled out he pressed his tongue further, only stopping the kiss when he came onto the little space of table between your thighs. Soft and swollen lips parted as his breaths ran ragged. A smile spread across your face as you watched his eyes open, witnessing a pleasured blow out of his pupils.
When he grabbed a kitchen towel and cleaned the table, you chuckled at his grimace. “See? My way is cleaner.”
He didn’t reply at first, taking the cloth and hovering over the sink before tossing it into his trash. “Only in the short term. We can finish up tomorrow with the tools?”
Your legs kicked again, not ready to slide off, “Mm, it’ll be easier in the daylight.”
“Instead,” he zipped his pants but removed the belt and set it on the counter, “Let’s get zozzled* and sway around the sitting room? Crash where we land.” (*drunk)
“I’ll pour if you get the music on.”
He turned to leave but paused, “No, I’ll handle the drinks. You always have too heavy of a hand.”
“I didn’t hear you complaining last time…”
“I’m not sure I remembered I was at home and not at a drum* last time…,” He uncorked the label-less whiskey, grabbing two glasses with one hand. “Didn’t wanna insult the pretty waitress.” (*speakeasy)
Fair. You weren’t much for drinking and always underestimated the strength of illegal hooch. Some were weak and some could kill you. But fancy Alastor had connections with the kind of people no one dared to risk harm to, so he always had the most trustworthy goods.
Good music, great whiskey, and even better company. You thanked him for being safe while working, he praised your ability to learn new skills so quickly. After a few drinks he pushed the coffee table against the wall and you drunkenly swayed around the room to something playing smooth and low. As much as you enjoyed your conversations, having your head tucked under his chin as neither of you said a word somehow filled in the little cracks of your heart more so than any talk. For him too. No tension after sex, no stress of how long he’d get to breathe before the next instance of prodding to do it again. He could smile and close his eyes and feel the room swing and sway in total safety.
A safety neither of you knew was being threatened from afar.
When you woke, Alastor was gone. A note on the table letting you know he’d run out to grab some things for breakfast. Telling you to relax and recover.
You put the furniture back, bringing the glasses to the kitchen and his belt to the bedroom.
Coffee and a slow perusal of his home. Intimate details you tried to not stare at when he was there. The rare photo of his mother, a woman you didn’t speak about, a conversation you didn’t need to have, but someone you knew existed fondly still in his life. A silent thank you to her.
No photos of a man to give thanks to you so you turned to the little curios and mementos.
Little seashells and sand dollars, a small gator’s skull. Books, about anatomy and history. Novels about crime and love and mystery. Ticket stubs for films he’d seen. Little bits of his mother scattered in. A woman’s necklace. A chatelaine* with all of the accessories and tools. (*wikipedia page)
When you felt you’d spied enough, you crawled into his side of the bed and inhaled as deeply as you could. His pillow smelled like him. You let yourself sleep off the hangover surrounded by pieces of Alastor.
Pieces you couldn’t contain. Pieces left around town as a dick* hunted for his personal monster. (*a detective, but also, a dick, fuck this dude?)
Beth, or Betty as you called her, the friend you often sang for, was cleaning up from the previous night when Brady walked in. She tried to tell him they were closed, but he took a seat at the counter anyway.
“I’m looking for a singer named Autumn. She been around lately?”
She paused, knowing the name was tied to your work. This man didn’t know you. “Whose asking?”
“The city of New Orleans”, he set his badge on the counter top.
“Is she in some kinda trouble?”
“She the kinda dame to get into trouble?”
Beth laughed, “She doesn’t try to but men, liquor, and jazz tend to make it happen. She’s okay, right?”
He took a deep sigh, trying to blink away the exhaustion and remember he needed to be someone strangers trusted. Being honest hadn’t been working and being rough barely got him a lead. “Well I was hoping you’d know. Found out someone roughed her up a bit ago and just wanting to make sure she’s okay. But I don’t have her legal name, no address, nothing to track her down.”
Shaking her head, she leaned onto the counter, “What? Some egg* forget it’s just a show?” Brady shrugged. “I can’t say. She hasn’t been by in a couple weeks.” (*man)
He asked why. Feeling the deadend approaching.
“She was just doing me a favor. Once she got a guy she didn’t have much time.”
Fighting the urge to slam his fists against the wood and sling his notebook across the bar, Brady took slow breaths. Jaw clenched as he grabbed his pencil, “That is wonderful news. Hopefully a fit guy who can… keep her safe.”
Beth laughed a little, “I don’t know about that. He’s kind of a daisy*, but real kind.” (*a non-masculine man)
“Could I get a name? Or her address? Wanna follow up. See for myself that she’s doing well.”
She tapped the bar with two fingers and winked, “Ah no can do. Flatfoot* or not, I don’t tell men where to find sleeping ladies. But her fella is in radio though. I recognized his voice right away. Popular too, really ritzy air about him.” (*cop, detective)
As he left, he slapped the notebook against his palm over and over. When he stopped to take a second to congratulate himself something caught his eye. Across the street was a park he knew well. Following the block and turning, he could see the white and green awning of the cafe he’d seen you at before.
Had he been there? He hadn’t questioned why you were alone on such a nice day. But maybe you weren’t. Maybe you’d been playing him from the start.
Enough games.
When you took the stage that evening, a Friday show with a promising crowd, you felt like solid gold. Alastor would be there to pick you up in a few hours, you had every need met. And now you had the adoration of strangers to pump up your chest.
Until you passed your come-hither eyes over the crowd and a striking ocean blue pair knocked the wind out of you.
James was standing behind Brady, mouthing an apology. You missed a beat in your routine but forced your smile back. It took a second, to slide back into the actress you were when away from Alastor. Every time it got harder and harder to fall back into that role but you managed. His eyes never left your face, and you thanked God your heaving chest could be seen as fatigue and not the sheer panic that had taken ahold of your body.
When you were on the other side of the curtain you considered rushing out the side door, into the alley and down the street. But you couldn’t. You’d successfully brushed him off for so long but now that he had seen you, had made it clear he was there for you, you couldn’t flee. Innocent people don’t hide from cops.
Feet dragging, you saw some of the dancers standing around the dressing room door. “He’s out of his gourd if he thinks I’m changing with him in there.” One said loud enough to ensure Brady heard. When you entered the room he was sitting at your make up table, legs spread and your shoes in his hands.
“There she is!” standing, he extended the shoes to you, “Don’t stare like a deer in the lights. I’m sure you knew I was coming. Slip these on, we’re going for a ride.” He gave them a shake, “You can call your mac* from the station and let him know you’ll be late.” (*man)
˖ ݁𖥔.Summoning the Horny Little Deer Cult.𖥔 ݁ ˖
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Reckless (2)
Pairing: Lee Know x Reader
Genre: Brothers Bestfriend
Warning: Hurt.. smutty smut [18+ ONLY, MINORS DO NOT READ]
Word Count: 2.6k
Part One |
Taglist: @hyunjinhoexxx @ovulatingrn @jisunglyricist @guiltycoco @fawnpeaks @purple-bell @seungminsapuppy @chanbahng29
“Dumb enough to do what, exactly?” You ask Jisung, eyes darting between him and Minho.
“Fuck around, get to together.. you know, anything like that.” Jisung chuckles.
“Would that really be so bad?” Minho asks, locking eyes with you as Jisung looks down at his food, that was your food, and laughs.
“It would be hell on earth.” He yells. “My little sister and my best friend? Ew, never happening.”
“Don't worry man, I would never go for Y/N. She's not even my type.” Minho laughs.
You glance at Minho, who is now avoiding eye contact.
“But you can go after my best friend?” You scoff, pushing his shoulder a little.
“What?” He asks. “When did I go after Hyunjin?”
You roll your eyes at him. “Not Hyunjin, Jisoo you moron!”
“She's hot.” Jisung laughs, looking at Minho. “And judging by his face, he thinks so too.”
“Ah, um, no, I don't.” Minho says. “I really don't.”
“It's okay, her and I are just a casual hookup thing, I can set you up with her.” Jisung offer.
“Since when are you a casual hook up thing with her?” You ask.
“Since last night.” Jisung explains, with a giant smile on his face. “So, you wanna get set up?” He asks Minho, wiggling his eyebrows.
“I don't need your help with women. I'm perfectly capable of getting them on my own.” Minho laughs.
“I'm gonna set you up anyway!” Jisuung yells, excitedly. “Minho and Jisoo!”
You look at Minho, you're not even sure with what kind of expression.
“As fun as this has been, I have to go get ready for class. Both of you, goodluck with the whole Jisoo thing.” You say, forcing a smile as you walk past both of them.
“What's up her ass?” Jisung laughs as you walk out of the room.
You hated him so much sometimes. As you're gathering your bag and books there's a knock at your door.
“Go away.” You yell, grabbing your phone off your bed.
“Open the door.” You hear. You rolled your eyes, you had no choice, you had to leave anyway. You pull the door open, seeing Minho standing there, looking guilty. “What?”
“Listen.” Minho starts.
“Don't.” You say, putting up your hand. “Whatever happened was a drunk thing, I'm not even your type so don't worry about it.” You finish, moving past him, heading downstairs and out the front door.
“Guys fucking suck.” You scoff, sliding into the seat next to Hyunjin.
“Good afternoon to you too.” He chuckles, running his hands through his hair.
“I'm sorry, not you. Just a select few.” You sigh.
“Your brother?” He asks, glancing at you.
“He's one, yes. He hooked up with Jisoo.” You shiver, the thought makes you nauseous.
“Yeah, unfortunately I saw that.” Hyunjin sighs. “I had nightmares last night from it. Also, where did you disappear too? You said you were getting a drink and never came back.” He pouts.
“Ah, I got pulled into the hallway by one of Jisung's friends apparently. Changbin.” You explain, opening your text book.
“That creepy fuck?” He almost yells. “Stay away from him.”
“That's the plan.” You smile as your professor walks into the room. Hyunjin leans over, his lips brushing your ear. “Do you wanna get a drink after this?” He asks.
You smile at him and nod your head. Hopefully you'll be able to make it through this class. At the end of the lecture, your head was pounding. You were exhausted and confused by the entire lesson plan. You swore you had no fucking clue what your teacher was talking about in almost any of the class.
“Drink?” Hyunjin asks. You desperately nod your head as he links arms with you, heading to your favorite pub. You know those people who say they're going to only have one drink, and end up having multiple? Yeah that was you and Hyunjin. One turned to two, which turned to three, and four and so on. By your 6th drink you were hiccuping and slurring your words.
“Let's get you out of here.” Hyunjin laughs, pulling your arm.
“I don't wanna go hooooomeeee.” You whine. “Stupid Minho is there.”
“What'd he do?” Hyunjin asks, holding your shoulder as he guides you out of the pub.
“I'm not his tyyyypee.” You exaggerate.
“But you're everyone's type.” Hyunjin scoffs. “Especially mine.”
“No..” you hiccup. “No No don't do that.”
“Do what?” He asks. He leans his face close to yours, and you're uncomfortable. You can feel in your pocket, your phone vibrating. You grab it, fumbling to answer the call, not even reading who was calling.
“Hellooooo?” You answer, moving away from Hyunjin's close face.
“Where are you?”
“Minho?” You ask.
“Yes, Y/N, Where are you?” He asks again.
“Why do you even care?” You wonder.
“Y/N. Please, just tell me.” He sighs.
“I got a drink with Hyunjinnie.” you giggle. “That turned into 6.. I think he's trying to kiss me.” You whisper.
“At the pub by school?” He asks.
“Yeah, we left. He's walking me home.”
“Stay there.” He deadpans. “I'm on my way.”
You wanted to tell him no but the line went dead. You slipped your phone back in your pocket as Hyunjin walked over to you. “Who was that?”
“Minho.” You slur. “He told me to wait here.” You sigh, rolling your eyes.
“I'm more than capable of taking you home, you know.” He whines. You look at him, he looks annoyed.
“Yeah, I know.” You smile. “I didn't ask him to come.” You chuckle.
“Doesn't matter. Why does he have to come? Why can't I just have some time with you. And why are you okay with him coming!? I thought you didn't like him.” He huffs.
“It's complicated Hyunjin..” you sigh. This sudden serious talk was beginning to sober you up and you didn't like it.
“Complicated how?” He asks. You grab the sleeve of his arm, dragging him back towards the bar.
“More drinks.” You huff, Hyunjin in tow. Hyunjin chuckles from behind you, as the two of you enter the bar. You wanted to see how many shots you were able to do before Minho busted through the door.
It ended up only being two. The front door of the pub swings open, a huffing Minho walks in, looking around the bar for you. You tried to duck behind Hyunjin, but drunk you weren't the best at hiding.
“Minho.” Hyunjin says, placing his hand on Minho's chest to stop him. “She's fine with me. You can go.” He finishes.
Minho looks down at Hyunjins hand, swatting it off of him. “She's fine with you, huh?” He laughs. “After you tried to kiss her?” Hyunjin doesn't say anything. “Yeah, that's what I thought. Y/N, let's go. I told Jisung I'd bring you home.”
“So you're not here because you want to be.” You sigh, standing up. “Jisung sent you?”
“Yeah.” Minho responds, avoiding your eyes. You scoff, pushing past him and Hyunjin, towards the front door.
Minho follows closely behind you as you walk out the door. “I'm parked right there.” He says, pointing to his car.
You huff as you walk towards it, climbing in the back seat. Minho climbs into The driver's seat, turning around to look at you. “Why are you back there?” He asks.
“It's much safer back here.” You say, crossing your arms.
“Safer from what?” He asks, starting the car.
“Safer from you. You can't kiss me back here and then tell people I'm not your type.” You yell.
“Y/N.. that's not..” he starts.
“Don't wanna hear it.” You yell, cutting him off. He sighs as he starts to drive towards your house. The rest of the ride goes by in silence. You walk in the door first, Jisung tries to greet you but instead you walk straight up the stairs and head towards your room, changing into some shorts and a tank top before crawling into bed. You glance at the clock, it was only 10pm, and Jisung had already forced you to go home. It wasn't even that late, you were an adult, so why were you listening to them? You pulled out your phone to send a text to Jisoo, seeing what she was doing.
[To: Jisooooo] 10:02pm: What are you doing rn?
[From: Jisooooo] 10:05pm: Party at the EXO house. Come!!
You smile at your phone as you crawl out of bed and head to your closet. You slip on a dress, quickly doing some makeup and your hair. You grab a pair of shoes. You open your bedroom door, peeking out into the hallway, not seeing anyone you quietly head down the stairs, trying to be as quiet as you possibly can. You peek around the corner, seeing Minho and Jisung watching something on the couch. You tiptoe by, opening the front door, and of course it squeaks.
“Y/N?” Jisung yells. You pull the door open as fast as you can, not bothering to shut it and you bolt from the house. You look behind you, seeing Jisung's shadow in the door frame as you take off.
Once you feel like you're far enough, you slow down, put on your shoes and call an Uber, which comes quickly, taking you to the lively house.
Jisoo came outside as soon as you texted that you had shown up. She pulls you into the house, heading straight for the drinks, which were surrounded by so many attractive men.
“Y/N, this is Kai, Sehun, Chanyeol, Baekhyun and Kyungsoo.” She says, introducing you. You smile and wave at them all, but one in particular cannot take his eyes off of you.
The seven of you stand around taking shots, talking and laughing for a few minutes, until Kai holds his hand out to you. ‘Wanna dance?” He asks, with a gorgeous smile. You take his hand, smiling back at him before he drags you to the living room.
You're hot as you dance in the crowd of people, Kai’s hands roaming your body as the two of you danced close to each other. His eyes remain on you and yours on his, you are completely oblivious to anything else going on, until Kai is ripped away from you. You look over in shock to see Minho standing there. He walks closer to you, you back up until you can't anymore. His chest pressed against yours as he stared at you.
“What are you doing?” he asks, cocking his head to the side.
“Dancing. What does it look like?” You ask.
Minho is pulled away from you. You see Kai standing there, the collar of Minho's shirt crumpled up in Kai's fists.
“What the fuck, man?” Kai yells, shoving Minho back. “Y/N, Do you know this dude?” He asks.
You sigh, running your hand over your face. “He's my brother's friend.” You say. Kai nods his head, walking away, but keeping a close eye on Minho. You grab Minho's wrist, pulling him outside the house.
“What are you doing here!?” You ask.
He chuckles a humorless laugh. “Why are you trying to make me jealous?” He asks, walking closer to you, moving his face closer to yours.
“Why are you jealous? I'm not your..” you say before he cuts you off.
“Cut the shit.” He breathes, crashing his lips onto yours. His hand presses against the back of your head, pushing into the kiss harder. His lips move against yours as his tongue slides into your mouth, swirling around your own. You wrap your arms around him, bringing your bodies closer together. The sound of someone yelling causes the two of you to break the kiss. Minho pulls you to his car, opening the passenger door for you before moving around to the driver's side. He speeds off, turning down random streets until you hit one that's fully dark. His hand held onto your thigh the entire time, slowly sliding up with each turn.
He puts the car in park, sliding his seat back. You reach over, unbuttoning his pants as he kisses you again, this time with more desperation and neediness. His hands roam your body as he pulls you closer to him and onto him, straddling him. He pulls his cock out before moving your panties to the side. Just as you begin to lower yourself onto him, his phone rings. He grabs it from the cup holder, groaning as Jisung's name flashes across the screen.
“Don't answer.” You breathe, desperate to feel his cock inside you.
He swipes to answer. “Yeah?”
“Did you find her?” Jisung asks. You smirk as you lower yourself onto him, his cock stretching you out. You watch Minho's face as he squeezes his eyes shut, biting his lip to keep from moaning out.
“Yeah, I've got eyes on her - She's fine. I'll get her home soon.” He says, hanging up the phone and tossing it to the seat next to him .
“You lied to him.” You moan as you rock your hips against him, his cock so deep inside you.
“It's not a lie.” He smirks. “I do have eyes on you.” He says, his hands on your hips as he guides you while you ride him. Minho moves his hands all over your body, up to your breasts, pulling them from your dress. He grips them, pulling you closer to him as he slips your nipple into your mouth, sucking on it. You cry out as you bounce on his dick, the feeling of his tongue swirling around your nipple sending you over the edge.
“God damn.” He groans. “You feel so fucking good.”
You smile as you throw your head back, he bucks his hips, pushing himself deeper into you. You run your hands through his hair as you continue grinding on him, your orgasm building so quickly.
“Fuck.” You breathe, squeezing your cunt around him, trying to delay your orgasm but it doesn't work, your eyes roll back as you cry out, your orgasm pulsates through your body.
“Oh fuck.” He groans. “I'm gonna cum.”
“Cum in my pussy.” You breathe, bouncing harder. “I'm on birth control.”
Minho moans loudly as he cums, thrusting himself deeper inside you. The two of you breathe heavily, your chests heaving as you slide off his cock and back into the passenger seat.
The rest of the ride is quiet as he drives back to your house. You walk in the front door, Jisung is in the living room.
“Don't take off again, please.” He sighs, his eyes never leaving the tv.
“Night.” You say, heading up the stairs to take a shower. That night you fall asleep, dreaming of Minho and what this night meant for the two of you.
The next morning you wake up happy as fuck. Happier than you had been in a very long time. It was Saturday and you were excited for the day and what might come of it. You look at the clock, you'd slept in late, it was already 1pm. You went downstairs, seeing Jisung and Minho in the kitchen talking and laughing.
“What's your plan tonight, Y/N?” Jisung asks, popping a candy in his mouth.
“I'm not sure yet.” You smile, glancing at Minho. “What about you?” You ask your brother.
“Gonna have people over later, but first Minho and I are going on a double date.” He laughs.
“Oh?” You partially choke. “A date?”
“Yeah.” Jisung chuckles. “Minho has been talking to Maya for a few weeks. And Jisoo and I are going to join them.” He explains. You look over at Minho, who won't look at you.
“Sounds fun.” You whisper.
“Yeah.” Minho pipes up. “It should be.”
#straykidsland#lee know smut#minho smut#skz smut#stray kids smut#skz fanfic#stray kids fanfic#skz#stray kids#skz minho#stray kids imagines#skz imagines#stray kids scenarios#skz scenarios#kpop fanfic#kpop writing#kpop scenarios#kpop imagines#kpop smut#exo#kai#kim jongin
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Us & You pt 5
DILF Kirishima Eijiro x Teacher Reader
Context: Kirishima Eijiro has done everything to forget Bakugou Katsuki in his life and just focus on his daughter, his amazing and loving daughter. The light of his eye. Due to an incident, Eijiro meets you, a teacher at his daughter school who he can’t help but fall for. However, as his daughter grows older and questions start being asked, it feels like the peace he tried to cultivate is slipping through his fingers.
Note: Prolife vs Prochoice, friends to enemies to strangers. Katsuki is TRANS!!! (AFAB)
PLEASE NOTE BEFORE READING THIS SHORT SERIES: There will be some deep discussions about morality, children, abortion arguments pertaining to Pro life vs Pro choice as well as the father’s role in raising a child/conceiving a child. It also deals with the struggles of being a single parent. It’s very messy and very much real life. Katsuki is Trans in this story (mostly cause I couldn’t find another character to be Sachiko’s mom and you’ll see why).
[PART 3] [AO3 Link] [PART 4]
You sat on the couch with Eijiro, his hand moving up and down your thigh as the both of you watched a movie on the TV. It was just the two of you this afternoon considering Sachiko was gone to stay over at a friend’s house for the day. From what you heard from Sachiko, it was rare for her father to allow her to go over to other people’s houses especially if him or the Kirishimas didn’t know them personally on an intimate level. She had apparently never gone to a sleepover, which after you took some time to think about it, you understood Eijiro’s fears.
She was a young girl, and you knew yourself that sleepovers at friend’s houses, even when you trusted them, was not always safe. Especially if there were adults or older individuals there that you weren’t aware of. You were glad that Eijiro had that rule to protect his daughter.
Eijiro leaned over to kiss your jaw, making you giggle as you were pressed up against his side. He seemed really touchy today. You weren’t sure what it was, but you couldn’t complain. “Eijiro, you aren’t watching the movie.” You reminded him.
“Hm?” He asked as he placed another kiss to your neck. Half of you was sitting on his lap but you felt him pull you more and more on top of him. You giggled at his lack of attention to the movie at all. “I’m more interested in you right now.”
His large hand travelled up your thigh even more, you wore loose shorts today that allowed him to slip his fingers further up your legs. You felt him grab at your skin making you suck in a breath but allow as you turned to look at him. His ruby eyes were half lidded as he looked down at you, focused on your being. You took in a deep breath, your eyes looking him over.
Eijiro was in nothing more than grey sweatpants and was otherwise shirtless, allowing you to freely gaze over the large expanse of his muscles. It was times like this you were reminded of how big your boyfriend was. He was absolutely huge. With broad shoulders and large muscles that were more meant for sweeping you off your feet than anything. You felt so small in his hold, almost dainty. You shifted your legs a bit as you tilted your head up to kiss his lips.
He let out a hum in gratitude, as his hands tightened around your body. His lips quickly moved to dominate yours, pulling you close and keeping you there. You wrapped your arms around his neck as you pulled yourself closer to his body, with a stuttered breath. You felt his sharp teeth nibble on your bottom lip, requesting access. You nodded your head breathlessly, as he easily took that opportunity to devour you.
He easily picked you up and settled you on his lap fully, allowing you to face his body as your thighs rested at either side of him. You ran your hands through his dark black hair making him hum in pleasure at the feeling of your hands on him. One of his hands moved up your body to feel the curvature of your back. You sunk down into his lap but gasp at the feeling.
You separated the kiss, a line of saliva connecting your lips as you looked down to where his tented cock was. You were then reminded of how much you loved his sweatpants. You glanced back up at him, trying to figure out how he was feeling. He nodded his head to you, wanting you to do as you please.
Was this it?
You looked back down at the imprint of his cock. Despite Eijiro being all for your pleasure, and having eaten you out multiple times, you had never actually seen his cock before. All you knew was that by the imprint in his sweats and the feeling of it against you, he was hung. You bit down on your bottom lip as you moved your hand up and down his shaft that seemed to only be growing hard at just your gaze.
Eijiro let out a groan as he felt you grasp his cock with your hand. He tilted his head back as he shifted, you felt him buck his hips just slightly. “Y/N…” He groaned.
You weren’t even paying attention to him as you had all your attention on his sex. He was thick. Really thick. You hadn’t even seen it out of his pants, and you felt a rush of fear go down your spine, but then it was quickly replaced by excitement.
Your hand moved to his waistband but then his phone rang. You turned to it.
“Who is it?” He asked, although you could see it in his eyes that he just wanted you to continue and ignore the phone call.
You reached over and grabbed his phone to see who was calling. Your eyebrows raised. “It’s Misaki’s mom.” You let out softly. Your eyebrows furrowed. “I thought you agreed with her that you’d pick up Sachi at half past four?”
“I did.” He sighed as he sat up. You handed him his phone. “Maybe Sachi isn’t feeling well or something.” He reasoned before picking up the phone. “Kirishima Eijiro speaking.” You refrained from touching him as you stared down at his crotch. You wondered how on earth that happened. You also wondered if this whole exchange meant he was comfortable with sex now? You surely hoped so. “What did you just say…” The low tone immediately snapped you out of your lewd daydreaming as you looked up at Eijiro. He had gone stiff, his eyes wide as his grip on his phone turned tight. You looked at him worried. “How on earth did you manage to lose her?” Your eyes widened at the news. “Well, I don’t care if there were many kids at the park! She’s my only daughter and you lost her!? How long has she been gone?” All you could hear was distressed crying from Misaki’s mom on the other side. You could imagine how scary it must be to lose someone’s kid especially when left in charge of them. You had gone through the same thing when Sachiko disappeared at the family derby event.
You saw Eijiro bring a hand to the bridge of his nose as he took a moment to think. “Okay. Okay. Just breathe. Stay there encase she comes back. I’ll find her.” He put down the phone and you quickly got off of him.
“What happened?” You asked urgently.
Eijiro stood up without hesitation. “Sachiko’s missing.” He told you, moving to head somewhere else in the house. You quickly followed after him. You could tell by his large strides and furrowed eyebrows that he was worried. “She hasn’t been seen in the past twenty minutes.” Eijiro walked into his office and immediately moved to the other side of his desk to where his laptop is.
“So how are we going to find her?”
Eijiro switched on his laptop and quickly signed in. “I’m going to track her.” He answered simply.
“You have a tracker on Sachi?” You asked surprised.
“No, her watch has a tracker that just so happens to be on Sachi.” He stated nonchalantly as if that wasn’t the exact same thing. He opened up a little app that looked more like a gaming app than anything. Suddenly a little icon appeared that said “Sachiko” with a baby photo of her. She had cute chubby cheeks with wide eyes with beautiful lashes, she was made out of chubby little rolls as she sat on the ground looking at the camera. You would have wanted to coo at it all day but there were more pressing matters. Soon the page turned into a map of your city and a little icon appeared on the other side of the city. Eijiro’s eyebrows furrowed as he looked at the location, she was in. “That doesn’t make any sense.”
“What doesn’t make sense?”
Eijiro hesitated. “How did she get all the way there?” He asked his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “If she was taken, she would have hit the panic button that’s attached to her watch. I don’t know how she got there.” He motioned to the map.
You moved to zoom in to the map. Your eyebrows furrowed. “Isn’t that the Bakugou building?” You asked as you pointed to where her little icon was. “What would she be doing there?” You turned to look at Eijiro. The large man had frozen in his seat, fear in his eyes as his pupils shrank. He looked to you, asking a silent question that you almost instantly picked up on. You stood up straight. “She can’t know, and I doubt he would want to see her.”
“Then why is she there?”
Kirishima Sachiko held the straps of her small backpack as she walked through the hallways of the Bakugou building. She followed the group of children around her age that were there for modelling clothes for the brand. She was silent as she spectated everything around her, certain marks that she would use to remember her way out.
She felt bad for having to leave Misaki but her friend understood what she was trying to do. She had to be quick. In and out. Then she could head back to the park or back home. She knew her father would most probably be angry at her, but this was one thing she had to do by herself, cause she knew he would never allow or tell her otherwise.
Sachiko turned to the elevator, just managing to disappear away from the group as she clicked the second highest floor. She wasn’t too far away from the top so it wouldn’t be a long ride. Once the elevator gave out a sound, she stepped out and walked straight to the desk infront of a set of doors. It seemed to be a secretary’s desk.
Sachiko walked over to the secretary who looked up from his laptop. His eyebrows raised in surprise. “Hello little girl. What are you doing here?” He asked surprised as he stood up from his desk to walk over to her. “Did you get lost from the others?”
She shook her head as she gave him a smile. “No. I’m Kirishima Sachiko, I’m here as a representative of the Kirishima Diamond company. My dad said I’m supposed to be part of the photos, but I’m supposed to check in with my uncle Bakugou.” She told him with a soft hiccup. She was glad her father wasn’t here the else he would have known she was lying right out of her front teeth.
The man raised an eyebrow not that convinced. He could admit that she did look like a Kirishima, but she was a kid after all. “Aren’t you a little young to be a representative of a company?”
“I’m just here to see my Uncle Bakugou.” She told him once more.
The tall man sighed as he adjusted his glasses. “Mr Bakugou didn’t tell me he was receiving a guest. But since she was let through…” He grumbled. He moved to the door as he knocked before opening it. “Mr Bakugou, you have a guest here.”
“Who is it?” Sachiko heard a gravelly voice ask from the other side.
The man glanced back at Sachiko before looking back through the door. “A Miss Kirishima Sachiko. Apparently, she was told to check in with you when she got here.”
There was a beat of silence, which made the young eleven year old girl nervous that she might have come all the way here for nothing.
“Send her in.”
The secretary’s eyebrows raised in surprise, but he turned to Sachiko with a smile. “Looks like it’s your lucky day, Miss Kirishima. Bakugou-san never wants to see anybody.” He opened the door wider allowing her through.
“Thank you, sir!” She chirped out with a kind smile as she bowed at the waist. She walked into the office, allowing the doors to close behind her.
Sitting at a large desk with a tablet in hand was a man with ashen blond hair and piercing crimson eyes. He lacked facial hair nor was he as big as her father, but he was pretty handsome. There was something about his eyes that were so feline, piercing and almost made her feel like she had done something wrong.
Crimson eyes stared at each other.
Katsuki frowned at the sight of her. She looked like a doll. She stood in a ruffled light blue dress with white stockings and black shoes, with a red backpack. Her hair was cut short, just barely touching her shoulders as she stared back at him with eyes that made Katsuki feel like he was staring into a mirror.
Suddenly he felt sick.
He let out a shaky breath as he put down his tablet. So, it really was her. He had talked to her briefly at the derby, just thinking of her as one other many of the Kirishima children that he probably just didn’t know about. He didn’t think it would actually be it… her. He reached over to the phone on his desk. “Please call Kirishima Eijiro and tell him his daughter is in my office. Allow him clearance up…” Katsuki’s eyebrow raised. “He already called? Huh.” He put down his office phone as he turned to look at the young girl in front of him. He leaned back in his chair. “Your father is looking for you.”
“I figured.” She let out softly, her voice was gentle as she spoke to him. “I’m sorry for the lack of warning Bakugou-san, and good afternoon too.” She bowed at the waist formally, her left hand over her right. Katsuki watched her with a harsh glare. He could see the conservative Japanese upbringing from a mile away. He could see it in her manners and her voice. It was something that he only saw in Eijiro whenever he interacted with elders or people that were not his friends. Formal, proper, rich. He wasn’t sure if he liked it or not. “My name is Kirishima Sachiko, we met at the derby two weeks ago.”
“We did.” Katsuki acknowledged.
“I’m just here to ask you a few questions.” She told him honestly. “If that is alright with you…” Katsuki didn’t say anything or give her a sign, so she continued. “You know my father?” She asked softly.
“I did.”
She hesitated. “You both went to the same university, right? The two of you were close?”
“We were.”
“Then…” She seemed scared to ask her question. Her grip on the straps of her backpack tightened as she tried to keep her composure. “Do you… do you know who my mother is?” She asked softly. “I’ve already tried every one of Daddy’s friends but they won’t tell me.”
So Eijiro really kept his word?
Katsuki was silent for a long while. He sighed. It was better he got this over and done with and was frank with her so that she would leave him alone. He wasn’t sure why ghosts from the past were now suddenly haunting him after nearly twelve years of him being free from this. He pushed himself out of his chair and stood up. “You don’t have a mother.” He told her frankly. “But I do know who gave birth to you.”
Her eyes lit up, almost in excitement. Katsuki saw the same expression that Eijiro would make whenever he got excited about something. Katsuki hated that expression on her face. “You do?” She asked, stepping forward. “Do you mind telling me who she is?”
Katsuki moved over to the other side of his desk. He leaned back against the hard wood as he folded his arms. “Not she, he.” He corrected her, making her eyebrows furrow in confusion. Katsuki swallowed down hard, trying to ignore the lump in his throat. Years of trying to erase the very thought of her and her father all gone now that she stood in front of him. “I gave birth to you.” She paused. She blinked twice and tilted her head confused in the same way her father would. God, she was just like him. “I’m transgendered, kiddo. So the bonnet doesn’t really match the engine.” He tried using a euphemism to explain it to her.
She took a moment, nodding her head as she took it in. To Katsuki’s surprise, he didn’t see disgust or anger on her face. She seemed to be taking a moment to think it over in her head. “H-how did that happen?” She asked.
“Me being transgendered? I don’t know, trauma I guess.” He shrugged, scratching the back of his head.
She shook her head. “No, not that. I mean me. How did I happen?”
He raised a single eyebrow. “Your father never told you about the birds and the bees? Or what do they call it? Giving a man your umbrella?”
A soft blush went to her face. “Daddy never told me, but Miss Y/N explained it to me after I got my first period.” She revealed to him.
He raised an eyebrow. She already had her menstrual cycle? Had it been that long? Katsuki sighed, scratching the side of his head. “Well, yah. Birds and bees happen and then you happened. Congratulations.” He spoke monotonously.
“Did… Did you and daddy love each other?” She asked.
Katsuki hesitated. He looked away from her. A red croc key ring sitting on his desk. “In some way or another.” He answered softly.
She took another moment. “So then why… why aren’t you together? Why don’t I have a mom… well… other dad?”
Katsuki didn’t like her questions. He didn’t like her presence here and he didn’t understand why on earth he had to explain this all to her. Clearly, she was here without her father’s permission, and clearly she wanted answers.
If she was old enough to understand birds and bees, she was old enough to hear the truth.
Katsuki sighed, detaching himself of all emotions as he looked to her. “You were a mistake.” That one phrase had the girl freezing. “A reckless mistake Eijiro and I did. We weren’t ready for children, and I certainly did not want a child. Unfortunately, your family doesn’t share my sentiments when it comes to bodily autonomy.” He moved his hands to rest back against his desk. “So your father and I had an agreement and thus you were born and I am to play no part in your life.”
She let out a breath before tilting her head confused. “Bodily a-autonomy?”
“An abortion, kiddo.” He stated it simply. “I’m not sure your father would have allowed you to know what it is, considering how conservative your family is, but it’s when someone doesn’t want a kid and so they get rid of it before the foetus is born. Your father’s family didn’t want that despite what I wanted and thus here you are.”
Sachiko was pale, not a single thought in her head as she tried to digest all of this information. Her eyes dropped to the ground as she swallowed down hard. “So… you never wanted…” She wasn’t sure if she could say it. “B-but I’m your child.” She whispered softly, tears in her eyes. “Every parent should love their children. Don’t… did I not mean anything to you?”
“Oh, you did.” Katsuki acknowledged, nodding his head certain of that. “You did. You meant approximately three hundred thousand US dollars. That’s how much your father paid me to keep you. So, in exchange of that ridiculous amount of money as well as birthing you, your father lost his dreams and ambitions, resigned to working for his father which he hated the idea of, and became a dad, stuck with you. So if that is all your questions, I have a meeting in thirty minutes that I’d like to prepare for.”
Sachiko stared back at him, her eyes wide in the same way that Eijiro looked at him the day Katsuki told him to move out of his life. Sachiko looked down with a shaky smile on her face. “I see.” She whispered. She shuffled as she bowed her head to him, closing her eyes. “Thank you for your time, Mr Bakugou.” She whispered.
Katsuki knew he was being harsh, borderline inhumane, but if he wanted her to leave him alone, he’d have to take such drastic measures. This would be something for her to learn so that she would not come into his life again, and so that they could live their separate lives as agreed upon.
He opened his mouth to speak but the sound of his door opening, took his attention. Borderline sprinting into his office as Eijiro who had a scowl on his face. His eyes moved to Sachiko and instantly they eased. “Sachi.” He whispered as he moved over to her. You quickly came into the room as well, staying by the doorway. Katsuki raised an eyebrow, wondering who on earth you were exactly. Maybe her nanny? Eijiro crouched down in front of his daughter and took her by her shoulders. “Sachiko, are you okay?” She nodded her head speechless. He kissed her forehead and looked back over to Katsuki. “Go to Y/N please, and wait outside. I’m coming now.”
She silently followed his order as she walked over to you. You brought the little girl into your arms as you closed the door, allowing Eijiro and Katsuki some time alone in over a decade.
Once the door was closed, Eijiro’s face dropped as he scowled. He looked to Katsuki. “What on earth did you say to my daughter?” He asked with a low growl.
Katsuki raised an eyebrow. “No hello? How are you? How have you been the last twelve years?”
“Answer the question, Bakugou.”
Katsuki let out a tsk, as he stood up off his desk. He pointed a finger to Eijiro. “Your daughter came to me, Kirishima. She found her way through security and up the building just to come and talk to me, to ask who her real mother is.”
Eijiro’s face fell at that news. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to know but he had to. “And what did you say?”
Katsuki put his hands on his hips. “I told her the truth.”
“You did what?”
“I told her the truth!” Katsuki repeated with a glare on his face. “I warned you, that after that… she was born that she and you were to never come into my life again!” He shouted at what used to be his best friend. “So I told her the truth, that I never wanted her and that she was here only on the pure grace of God that I decided to take up that deal with you.”
Eijiro’s face twisted into something close to disbelief and disgust as he took a step back. He almost wanted to refuse to believe it but Katsuki had no reason to lie. “How on earth could you say that to a child?!”
“She wanted to go digging in graves, she found what she was looking for.”
Eijiro looked down at the blond in disbelief. He let out a scoff as he frowned. “How can you have such hatred in your heart for someone that has done nothing to you?” He asked. He motioned to the door. “She’s a good eleven year old girl, who’s apparent only sin against you was being born!”
“Only sin?” Katsuki asked with a tilt of his head. “No, she ruined me!” He shouted as he took a step closer to Eijiro. “You have no idea what it was like being forced to carry that child and have it change your body to its will.”
“Forced? Katsuki you weren’t forced to do anything!” Eijiro shouted.
Katsuki let out a loud cynical laugh, stepping back as he turned away from Eijiro for a moment. “Eijiro, you forced me to carry it!”
“Don’t you dare call my daughter and ‘it’! I gave you an alternative!” Eijiro corrected. “I gave you another choice, a way that I could have my daughter and it would have no ties to you. You chose that alternative. I didn’t force you to do anything.”
“Yah, you only bribed me into having a child!”
“If it was the only way to keep her alive, so be it!”
“Keep her alive!?”
“Tell me Katsuki, why could my daughter not be human enough for you to keep her? Is she only human now that’s she’s older?”
Katsuki tsked as he looked away from Eijiro. He shook his head as he furrowed his eyebrows looking away from Eijiro. “Well I hope you’re happier now.” He spoke snidely and lowly, not answering Eijiro’s last questions. His hands gripped his biceps as he walked back to behind his desk. “And real good job by the way, raising her to be such a prim and proper princess. I almost didn’t feel judged.”
Eijiro frowned. “Did my daughter say anything that insulted you?” He asked, wanting a straight answer. “Did she show you any hate or admonish you in any way shape or form?”
Katsuki rolled his eyes. “Please, it doesn’t matter. I could see that Kirishima upbringing from a mile away. Tell your parents they did a stellar job.”
“A good upbringing that taught her to be kind and respectful?” He asked with a tilted head. “Stop trying to villainise an innocent girl in your life! Unlike you Katsuki, I am happy.” He put a hand to his chest as he looked to the blond. “I really am.” Katsuki looked back at his old best friend. Eijiro didn’t have an inkling of regret on his face. His eyebrows were furrowed as he looked straight at Katsuki. “I’m happy with my daughter and my girlfriend and my family. I have no regrets.” He stated as he moved to turn around to leave. “I hope one day you’ll find it in your heart to not have any either. And for what it’s worth…” He paused at the door as he looked at what was once his best friend. “I hope you know that the best thing you have ever made was her.” Eijiro left the room, deciding to leave the past where it was.
Eijiro closed the door of the apartment as you took Sachiko by the hand. You had been trying to talk to her but she hadn’t responded beyond nods and shaking of her head. Whatever happened in there was greatly affecting her. You looked down at her worried.
“Sachiko.” At the sound of her name, the eleven-year-old girl paused before looking up at her father. Eijiro moved to stand in front her, his eyebrows furrowed as he looked down at her with a frown on his face. “You deliberately left the park without adult supervision or consent. Do you know how dangerous that is? You could have been in danger. How on earth did you even get to the Bakugou building in the first place and why didn’t you tell me you wanted to know who gave birth to you? I could have talked to you.”
“No, you wouldn’t.” She let out softly as her eyes were down casted. “You never want to talk about it. You always just tell me that every kid is different.”
Eijiro paused. He sighed, knowing she wasn’t completely wrong. “Still. If you wanted to know exactly, why didn’t you just ask me directly? Do you know how worried Y/N, Masaki’s mom and I were for your safety? This isn’t-”
“Then why don’t you just get rid of me!” She shouted up at him. Eijiro’s eyes widened in shock. She had never shouted at him before. Tears fell from her crimson eyes as she looked up at her father with a broken expression. “I know you never wanted a kid anyway! I’m a mistake, right?”
Eijiro’s arms fell to his side as he looked at her confused. His face scrunched up in pain on why she would ever say that. “Sachi…” He tried taking a step forward to her but she took a step away from him, closer to you.
“No!” She shouted. “I know I make life difficult for you! You’re always worried about me, and you never get time to hang out with your friends or do anything you like with me here! Why-why did you even spend all that money for him to keep m-me?” She sobbed as she hiccupped, trying to catch her breath. “You would have been happier if I were never born!”
“Don’t say that.” Eijiro said with a serious expression as he crouched down in front of her with his hands on her shoulders. “Please, don’t ever say that.”
She let out a hiccup as she rubbed her eyes. “But it’s true, Daddy.” She let out with crippled cries, her face pink as she was overcome with emotions. “At least t-that way…” She hiccuped. “I wouldn’t be able to make life difficult for you.”
He shook his head. “No, it’s not true.” He denied it. He carefully moved his large hands to cup her round face. Her jaw shivered with quite cries as tears came out of her eyes. He moved her black hair out of her face and wiped the tear marks from her eyes. “Sachiko.” He started speaking softly. You saw a gentle smile come onto his face as he looked at her with so much love in his eyes. “You are the best thing to have ever happened to me. Intentionally or not. You gave me purpose that I never knew I needed in my life. Life felt so much brighter ever since you came into it. Do you know the first moment I loved you?”
She shook her head with a sniffle. You took out a tissue and gave it to her, allowing her to wipe her nose.
Eijiro smiled broadly, tears in his eyes as he leaned to put his forehead against hers. “The moment I heard your heartbeat at seven weeks. Sachi, you weren’t even born, and I had enough love for you that it made my chest hurt.” She let out a soft whimper as tears fell out of her eyes. He let out a gentle laugh. “So many people love you, I love you, Y/N loves you, your grandparents and aunties love you. Sachi, you aren’t a mistake. That’s why I named you Sachiko.” He reminded her. Tears finally fell from his eyes as he looked at her with a genuine smile. “You’re my little miracle.” She hiccupped as she nodded her head, rubbing her eyes as she tried to stop her tears. “The reason I wake up every morning and Did you do your affirmations today?” At the question, she couldn’t help but chuckle and smile but she shook her head. Eijiro shook his head with tsks. “Come on, you know the words.”
Sachiko she closed her eyes for a second before opening her crimson eyes again. “My… my name is Kirishima Sachiko… daughter of Kirishima Eijiro.”
“Yes, you are.” He affirmed for her, rubbing her soft knuckles with his thumb as he smiled up at her. “Go on.”
“I… I am constantly growing and developing into a g-good person. I am b-beautiful, I am strong, I am smart and I am talented. I kn-now my values. I am as strong as a mountain and as proud as a dragon. I am a Kirishima, worthy, l-loved and true.” She finished.
Eijiro smiled broadly, pride brimming in his eyes. “That’s my girl.”
She burst into sobs as she fell into his arms. Her arms wrapped around his neck as she cried. He chuckled as he held her in his arms. He tightened his grip around her. He looked up at you, and you smiled with emotional tears of your own. You nodded your head as you picked up her backpack.
“There, there, you can cry.” He told her as he comforted her. He picked her up easily in his arms. “How about you take a nap, hm? Naps always make me feel better.”
Eijiro laughed as he stood up and took your plates to the kitchen. You leaned back into the couch as you looked out at the dark night sky.
After the fiasco of Katsuki and Sachiko finding out about him, things sort of went back to normal which you were grateful for. It was you, Eijiro and Sachiko. However, Eijiro had been acting odd for a bit. He was odd in a way that you couldn’t really put a finger on it. He seemed to be giggly recently, and a bit nervous. All until tonight, when he invited you over with Sachiko out at Akari’s house.
“Y/N.” You turned to look up at your boyfriend who walked over to you. He carefully motioned for you to stand up, offering his hand to you. You raised an eyebrow but took his hand standing up onto your own two feet. He gently guided you up onto your feet.
You watched your large boyfriend guide you away from the comfortable couch and to who knows where. “Eijiro, where are you taking me?” You asked skeptically as you looked back at him.
He shushed you sweetly with a smile on his face. “Don’t worry about it, my love.” You hummed, not taking a word he had just said seriously. He chuckled as he guides you forward. His ruby eyes focused forward, a gentle look in them that had you wondering what he was planning right now.
You opened your mouth to speak but then your eyes caught on something making you pause. You were standing in the doorway to Eijiro’s bedroom, but it seemed totally different. There were roses everywhere with low lighting and special candle light. You looked around his room with wide eyes at the romantic set up he seemed to have made all himself. “Eijiro…” You let out softly. “What… what is all of thi-”
You turned around to face him but your boyfriend had disappeared. You looked down and your eyes widened. Sitting on one knee was Eijiro. He wasn’t nervous, he wasn’t anxious, he was sure. His eyes were sure. His face was sure. He let out a breath but smiled up at you, as he took your hand. “Y/N.” His large hands, large thumbs rubbed over your knuckles as he kissed your hand.
“E-Eijiro, what… what are you-”
“I know that I came with a lot of baggage,” He started off as he looked up at you. “I came with a little girl who had never known a mother in her life, some trauma and apprehension too. You deserve far better and yet you allowed me into your life. Initially, I was scared, but I’m not scared anymore. Y/N, you are one of the few good things in my life. You are wonderful, you are kind, you are such an amazing mother to my baby girl, and I couldn’t have asked for anything more from you. You did this all effortlessly. You didn’t have to begged or forced. You were patient with us, and you were at our side when all this chaos was happening. I…” Suddenly out of his back pocket, you saw a velvet box. The lid was flipped up and staring up at you, with beautiful diamonds was an engagement ring. “I know we haven’t been dating long, not even longer than a year but, I’m sure about this, I’m sure about you and I wanted to ask you this before I lose myself. L/N Y/N, would you do me the honour of marrying m-”
You didn’t even let him finish as you wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed his lips. Eijiro’s eyes widened in surprise before a chuckle stumbled out of his lips as he wrapped his arms around your arms. He smiled against your lips as he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you closer. You were crying as you held him. Disbelief giggles stumbled out of your chest as you couldn’t help but smile against his lips as you giggled and cried.
Eijiro blinked, thick lashes brushing his cheeks as he stared at you with wide ruby eyes. He searched your face. “So that’s a-”
“YES! Eijiro, yes, I will marry you!” You affirmed, nodding your head as you pulled him into another kiss.
Eijiro wrapped an arm around you as he pulled you in tighter. He let out a stuttered breath as you deepened the kiss. Your hands moved to the back of his head, feeling his locks and baby hairs at the back of his head as you did so. He groaned as he bit your bottom lip and slipped his tongue into your mouth.
You were perfect, you were perfect for him, you were perfect for his girl, you were perfect in their lives. All he wanted was you and right now he could barely think past his tight boxers.
He pulled back with a heavy breath. “Wait… wait, wait, wait.” He breathed out heavily.
You looked up at him, waiting on whatever he had to say. “Do you still want to wait?”
“God no.” He shook his head firmly denying it. He leaned forward, closer to you, his eyes hooded with lust and want. “No, I want to be as deep inside you as possible.” You felt a rush go down your back at the look in his eyes as you tried to stifle a giggle stupid smile. “But I want to do it with you wearing my family diamonds, with my ring on your finger, treated like a real Kirishima wife should be treated.”
-Glitch1d
#kirishima x reader#dad kirishima#dilf kirishima#kirishima eijiro x reader#kirishima eijirou#kirishima eijiro#bnha eijiro kirishima#mha eijirou#bnha eijirou#eijirou x reader#eijirou kirishima imagine#mha kirishima#mha x y/n#bnha#eijiro kirishima x reader#eijiro kirishima#kirishima x y/n#girl dad kirishima
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Genius (6) - Genius
Cairo Sweet x female (G!P) Reader
Summary: It was such a cliché, a reunion she didn’t expect to ever happen, let alone six years after she last saw you. It was supposed to mean nothing, a bit of nostalgia, maybe a brief catching up while waiting for class, it was supposed to be a small wave of nostalgia, not a tsunami that disrupted her entire life. You were her opposite, and as hard as she tried she couldn’t resist your pull.
Story masterlist / First part / Previous Part / Next part
Word count: 2.2k
-Won't you tell me all your secrets about how you exploit their weakness, I think you're a fucking genius,-
Cairo sat in her garden, with her legs lifted onto the second chair. She had her eyes closed as the soft wind blew in her face. She was smiling, happier than she’s been in a long time.
She was seen. You were seeing her, the real her, and you were starting to see her trauma as well, all the things she wished she could get over, or tell you about, yet didn’t. She caressed the spine of Jules Verne’s book, she remembered how captivated the two of you were by it, by the simple idea of traveling the world. Of leaving this place and seeing everything, absolutely everything the world had to offer. Would she be able to do it? That was one of her dreams, fulfilling the trip around the world in eighty days, well, she doubted she could see everything in eighty days, but start from one trip around the world and then pick another route.
Would you be willing to go with her? Did you love her? You came after her, you went out to look for her, well so did Winnie. You went back into the forest and brought the roses to her backyard and she opened her eyes to look at them. It’s been one day since you brought the pots and planted them, hoping they would sprout roots.
If a wild rose could be moved, if it could be released from the roots that kept it tied to a place that wouldn’t let it grow and blossom, maybe she could do the same. Was it too late to stop whatever was going on with Miller? Did she already cross a line? Did he have expectations of her right now? She still desired the love he described, that madman’s love that she felt she’s been missing her whole life, but now that she thought about it she thought about your arms around her yesterday, when you finished working with the roses.
Was that her madman’s love? How did you feel about her? She wasn’t sure, but she hoped, and if she wanted to be fought for, she would fight for you as well. She got up, and went inside, heading right for her room where her laptop was. She got comfortable, opened a blank word document and began typing. She put all of her feelings, all of her desires on the page, releasing the feelings she otherwise wasn’t sure how to handle. How would you act if you knew how much she wanted you right now? How much she craved to feel your arms around her again? And in the midst of all of those thoughts she dared to let her mind wander to how your touch would feel on her bare skin. How mad could you drive her? How passionate were you? How about her? She’s never done it, she’s only read about it, how assertive would she be? She didn’t know, but she wanted to find out with you.
~X~
You sat in your bedroom, your guitar in your arms as you played the acoustic cover of ‘She is’ by The Fray, you didn’t know why that song came to your mind out of blue, but you knew who you wanted to play it for.
“She is everything I need, that I never knew I wanted,” you sang softly, closing your eyes and pulling the notes and lyrics from memory. How long has it even been since you’ve listened to that song? Yet you still remembered it down to the smallest details.
The shakiness of Cairo’s breath as the two of you hugged, the slightest tremor in her voice, the soft whisper, you couldn’t get it out of your head, any of it. She was intoxicating and it was maddening how much of an affect an innocent night of nothing but reading made you notice all the things you weren’t sure you were meant to notice.
She was your childhood friend. You were trying to rebuild that friendship.
“This is going to bring me to my knees, I just want to hold you close to me,” yet you still sang, still knew full well that your heart was beyond reason, that you could no longer see her as a friend. Your mind demanded control over your feelings, demanded that you stop and reconsider, that you take into consideration how fast this was all going. You haven’t been back home for a month and already you were having a turmoil over your feelings for your childhood best friend.
But your heart overpowered your mind and the thoughts of Cairo brought forth a melody you were hearing for the first time, one coming from your heart, filled with longing, desire, all the emotions you still weren’t sure you should share with Cairo.
Would she accept them? Or would she deny the pull she had on you and demand to stay friends?
“Break me down, shape me into something just for us,” you tried adding lyrics to the tune you were creating.
~X~
The next morning you arrived at school a bit earlier than you were supposed to, you just had a bit too much energy this morning and figured you might as well wait for the classes to start at the school instead of at home. You got off your motorcycle and began taking the protective gear off. The school was close, but, you knew better than to take unnecessary risks on the motorcycle. It doesn’t matter how short the ride is, but if you get into an accident or not, and you can always get into an accident, no matter how careful you are. Not all drivers were as careful and that made protective gear mandatory to you.
“Y/N! Hey,” you heard Winnie yelling and looked behind you to see her and Cairo walking across the parking lot. Knowing them they were going to grab a bite.
“Hey!” you took your helmet off and grinned at her before you turned to Cairo, your grin morphing into a softer smile. “Welcome back, Cairo,” you skipped school on Tuesday, but you went yesterday, unlike her.
“I’d say it’s good to be back, but I’d be lying,” she smiled back, shifting her weight so she was leaning more on her left foot and raising her right knee up a bit for a moment, all the while keeping a hand resting on her hip. She dressed a bit different than what you were used to, thigh highs, a shorter skirt and the sweater she had on hugged her body almost a bit too perfectly and you resorted to imagining rather unappealing things to keep your mind from wandering because no, you were not about to become a horny teenager now. No! You wanted none of those thoughts right now!
No matter how attractive Cairo was regardless of what she was wearing.
“You okay, Y/N?” Winnie almost sang, she knew exactly what was on your mind, or what you were trying to keep from being on your mind and she had no intentions of helping you.
“Yup! Perfectly okay, thanks for asking,” you coughed to cover up a slight crack in your voice. ‘Damn it, Cairo, have mercy,’ you thought when you noticed the smile on Cairo’s lips turning into a small smirk.
“If you say so. It’s totally okay if you aren’t fine, you know?” Winnie reassured you and closed the distance so she could pat you on the back. “Wanna go grab a bite with us?” she offered and there was no way you’d accept. You’d be in for a teasing of your life and you still weren’t entirely sure Cairo dressed up like that for anyone, let alone you.
“I’ll skip, I don’t have the first period off,” which was true as well. Going with Cairo and Winnie would mean skipping class, and you kinda needed to listen to this one, otherwise you’d fail it miserably.
“Aw, and I looked forward to teasing you,” Winnie pouted, as if she was actually that disappointed. Actually, she might be just that disappointed.
“Right, I was really looking forward to that,” you said blankly and then turned your attention back to Cairo. “So, wanna ditch the village with me on Saturday?” you asked, a bit too hopefully for your own taste.
“Of course,” Cairo nodded, she approached you and fixed the collar of your jacket a bit. “I’ve been meaning to ask you the same thing,” she admitted, lifting her chin up while you were looking down. Just a few inches separated her lips from yours and you swallowed hard.
“Really?” you managed to speak up, your throat suddenly felt really dry.
“Yeah, I wanted you to take me on a trip, just the two of us,” she admitted, and you nodded.
“I will, I promise you,” you whispered, for a moment forgetting Winnie was even there.
“Ooh, can I come and watch?” Winnie suddenly broke whatever bubble you and Cairo created and you took a step back as Cairo glared at Winnie. The shit-eating grin on Winnie’s face told both of you she deemed the interruption and the potential consequences of it worthy.
You cleared your throat and took a few more steps away from Cairo. “Right, I’ll see you two later,” you waved at them and headed toward the school, unaware of what was about to transpire.
~X~
Cairo watched you go, a small smile on her face gave her away, but then she heard Winnie chuckling and raised an eyebrow. She already had a bad feeling as Winnie approached her with a teasing smile on her face.
“Oh no,” she sighed, not sure what to expect from her best friend. Whatever it was, the mischievous look in her eyes made Cairo more than a little worried.
“Oh, Y/N, I can’t wait for you to take me,” Winnie moaned sensually and pushed her breasts up, her lips parted as she went down a bit only to slowly, with her hips swaying slightly straighten up.
Cairo blushed furiously. “I didn’t say that, and especially not like that,” she looked back toward the direction you went in and felt relief at you not being anywhere in sight. “And take me on a trip, not take me,” she muttered as Winnie smirked at her.
“Mhm,” Winnie didn’t believe her, that was clear and much to Cairo’s horror she got on your motorcycle. “Yes, Y/N, fuck me on your bike! Yes, Baby, get that engine purring!” she was leaning forward, jokingly raising her hips up and winking at Cairo.
“You need to get off her motorcycle!” she pleaded, already embarrassed enough. “And I don’t want that!” even if she did, you were very protective of your motorcycle, there was no way you’d bend her over it and fuck her.
“Maybe, but you thought about it,” Winnie finally got off your motorcycle but the teasing certainly wasn’t over.
“I didn’t,” Cairo denied it a bit too quickly, and maybe the thought did cross her mind, but again, you wouldn’t agree to it, so it didn’t matter. “And weren’t you all for wagyu beef?” she tried to remind Winnie that you weren’t the one she was supposed to seduce, even though she remembered Winnie changed her mind, but she needed something to get Winnie’s mind off you and Cairo fucking on your motorcycle.
Winnie waved her off with a playful scoff. “That’s in the past. You, my Sweet darling, need someone young and owning a bike,” she teased, brushing her fingers over the handles of your motorcycle and then pretending to rev it up. “This bike in particular, just so we’re clear,” she smirked.
Cairo rolled her eyes at that. “Let’s just go and eat,” she hoped the promise of food would make Winnie stop already, seeing as nothing else was working.
“You’re paying this time,” Winnie nudged her.
“Only if you stop teasing me about Y/N,” Cairo felt hopeful, she should have known better.
Winnie looked through her bag and fished out her wallet. “Would you look at that, looks like you’re out of luck.”
This was hell. She had no doubt about that.
~X~
That day after the classes she dropped by the post office and looked around for the mailman assigned to her part of the village, meaning he also delivered to your place as well. “Hey, I was wondering if you’d be willing to do me a favor?” she said with a polite smile and two hundred dollars peaking right for him to see.
“Maybe,” he said slowly and she slid the money and an envelope across the table. “I need you to deliver this, not to the address written on the letter, but to another address instead,” she slipped another paper, this one with your address on it.
What would you do? Wait until Saturday and bring the letter to her at a convenient moment, or would you use the chance to come and see her? She wanted to see if you were as eager to spend time with her as she was to spend it with you. If you felt the madness she felt, or if you could resist it.
She hoped you wouldn’t be able to. She hoped you longed for her as much as she longed for you.
A/N: Well, a short one, but sometimes these happen as well. But, would you look at that, we're halfway done!
Taglist:@deimaisgail @bee-keeping @marvelous-disaster @jmwetterlund @tekanparadiae
@alexkolax @ioveyouyouloveme @aaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhh @autorasexy
#cairo sweet x female reader#cairo sweet x reader#cairo sweet#miller's girl#jenna ortega x reader#x reader#x female reader
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Killing Me Softly | (Joel x teacher!f!reader)
Chap. 9 Act 1, Scene 1
Summary: Time passes, but the memories remain.
Rating: 18+
Word Count: 6.7k
Warnings: **THIS CONTAINS SERIES SPOILERS** angst, language, mentions of alcohol, brief mention of vomiting (tw for anyone with emetophobia), slight duel pov
A/N: Well... the imposter syndrome has hit me HARD. I'm extremely discouraged by this chapter, but i hope its a decent enough follow-up to what y'all read last :/ bear with me, the last two chapters will MORE than make up for it. i promise.
Masterlist | Ko-fi
Time didn’t exist anymore.
You woke up. You went to work. You came home.
Over and over, the cycle went, and the days passed with no significance. You didn’t eat much, your appetite dwindling just as much as your motivation. It started to show in the way your clothes hung on your body and how your face thinned out. If you cared, you would go to the store and actually buy food, but the possibility of running into Joel kept you away.
Joel.
Two weeks had passed since parent-teacher conferences—two weeks since you had hidden the book far away. You considered re-writing your lesson plans for next year; you never wanted to teach Romeo and Juliet again. You weren’t strong enough to analyze a story you had shared so intimately with someone you now considered a stranger because that’s what Joel was now: a stranger. A stranger you could still pick out in a crowd of a million people, a stranger whose lips were still imprinted on your skin even after countless hours spent in the shower.
He was a stranger, and you hated him.
You were perched on the couch with a glass of wine—as most nights went now—when your cell phone buzzed on the coffee table. You didn’t reach for it initially; it was most likely your mom. She had tried calling a handful of times since you had hung up on her weeks ago. You never once called back, but you listened to the voicemails when you were drunk enough. Your dad had been discharged last week and started physical therapy for his hip. Stella and her boyfriend were moving in together somewhere in downtown Boston. And Beth…your mom never once uttered her name. She knew better than to do that.
But the continuous buzzing of your phone began to irritate you, and you reached for it with an exasperated sigh. An unknown number flashed on the screen, igniting a sudden burst of anxiety inside your chest. Setting your glass down, you inhaled and answered the phone.
“Hello?” You cautioned.
Your name filtered through the receiver, a voice you weren’t expecting to hear.
“Bennett?”
“Yeah, it’s me,” he sighed.
“I didn’t think you’d reach out,” you said. “I tried to see you in the hospital, but Natalie…” You let your voice drift off.
“I know. She’s not big on the idea of talking to you at all.”
“I’m so sorry again, Bennett. Joel shouldn’t have done that. I really don’t understand why it got to that point. I—.”
“I deserved it,” he said, cutting you off mid-sentence.
You shook your head, your fingers knotting through the tangles in your hair.
“No, Bennett. No, you didn’t. He could have killed you,” you argued.
“He’s a man of his word, I’ll give him that,” he laughed.
It was odd to hear Bennett talk so casually about this as if Joel hadn’t pummeled him into the ground. He should be mad, so why wasn’t he?
“Should I be waiting for a call from your lawyer soon?” You asked wearily.
“If I wanted to come after you or Joel legally, I would be the one to do it. But that’s not happening,” he sighed. “It's too messy of a situation, and I really don’t want to go through the hassle. Natalie says otherwise, but she doesn’t really understand the situation.”
“The situation,” you echoed. “Joel told me his side of things after they took you to the hospital. I still don’t remember anything, Bennett. Even if I did, I wouldn’t have been able to reach you. You left. You disappeared completely and broke my heart.”
There was a beat of silence. You took the opportunity to down the last of your wine, the beginnings of a light buzz coursing through your veins. Don't get angry, you told yourself. You didn’t feel much of anything anymore, but anger was never too far out of reach. Sitting with that emotion and festering in it was easy if you let yourself. Bennett deserved your anger just as much as the rest of them, but you needed answers more than you needed to feel anything.
“There’s a lot to explain,” he finally said. “I’m not sure if you even want to see me again, but I can drive up to Austin this weekend and tell you everything. Or at least everything from my side.”
Seeing Bennett again would unfurl so many unchecked emotions: heartbreak, betrayal, grief. But it would be something you needed. Joel wasn’t the one you were with those two years following the accident; he wasn’t the one you had walked down the aisle expecting to see. Bennett had been with you through it all. You wanted to hear it from his mouth. You wanted an apology and an explanation.
“Okay,” you exhaled. “We can do that. Will Natalie have an issue with it?”
“Natalie won’t know.”
“You’re going to lie to your wife?” You laughed bitterly at his admission. He was still the same person through and through.
“She’s fine,” he huffed through the phone. “She doesn’t understand any of this anyway.”
“Whatever you say, Bennett. We can meet at a coffee shop this weekend. Don’t abandon me again. I deserve an explanation.”
“I won’t.”
The guilt in his voice was thick, and you relished knowing he was suffering. Everyone, not just you, deserved to suffer for what they did.
You quickly ended the call with Bennett and returned to the silence surrounding you. Knowing you’d see him in just a few days was unsettling and uncomfortable. The lingering grief he had left still hollowed out your heart. No amount of apologies would fill it, but it could sew up the remaining holes.
What couldn’t be filled was the gaping hole Joel had left within your heart. Secrets wrapped in scar tissue and carnage that could never be fully healed, and it still infuriated your love for him still festered inside you. It buried itself deep under the confines of your numbness, but sometimes, when you lay awake at night, you could still feel it. You ached for him in growing unbearable ways, but you had to continue with your life.
You hadn't prepared yourself to see Bennett the first go around, and you had since thrown out the shit still stained with his blood. Now, you were standing amid a pile of clothes strewn around your feet, your hair still wet and wrapped in a towel, and a face that screamed insomnia. You looked beyond amends.
After another hour of procrastination and a ticking timeline, you threw on the most basic T-shirt and jeans and left your hair a wet mess.
It was only Bennett.
It wasn’t serious.
Nothing was these days.
You pulled into a spot in front of a cafe a little ways into town, your car sitting idle as you stared at the storefront. You could faintly make out Bennett’s silhouette sitting in the window, yet your body wouldn’t move. You were feet from all the answers, but the anxiety bubbling inside you made you immobile. Did you actually want this? Was it better to be blissfully unaware?
Would the answers hurt you more than help you?
Before the constant questions led you to flee, you opened your door and decided to face the truth. Walking into the cafe, your eyes connected with Bennett, and your heart sank. Even from a distance, the scarring on his face was horrible: a thick, red, jagged line stretching down his temple and ending at his cheekbone. Another raised scar creased his left eyebrow, dragging down the arch over his eye.
Joel did this.
Inhaling, you met him at the table, sliding into the chair without a word. Bennett’s lips curled into a smug smile, one you still hated, and his eyes glazed over your body.
“You look like shit,” he stated.
“You’re one to talk,” you shot back, rolling your eyes.
He shrugged, leaning back comfortably in his chair. Your eyes flicked down to the ring on his finger, the gold shimmering through the sunlight hitting the windows.
“She really has no idea you’re here?” You questioned, nodding your head towards his hand.
Bennett glanced down at his wedding band, his fingers twisting around the metal mindlessly.
“No, she doesn’t. She thinks I’m out of town on business.”
“And where’s home for you now?” You asked. “I never really found out since you up and left without a trace.” You tried to swallow the bitterness coating over your words.
“I live in Houston now. I found a firm seeking out a junior partner and settled down in the city,” he explained. “Trust me, I didn’t want to leave my life here, but it was the only option.”
You studied him momentarily, watching any signs in his body language that would frame him as a liar. But you found nothing to fault.
“What do you mean it was the only option?”
Bennett leaned forward, intertwining his hands together.
“What exactly did Joel fill you in on?” Bennett asked, cocking an eyebrow.
You shifted in your seat. Bennett’s words hit a nerve inside you, one that was buried deep within the numbness and itching to revive itself on a spark of anger. Was there more Joel had kept from you? How much more heartbreak could you take before you completely withered away?
“He said you and I broke up after we moved to Austin,” you started. “That’s when I met him, and we started dating. I don’t know specifics or much more, but Joel said that when I woke up in the hospital, I asked for you, and that’s when my parents decided to reach out to you and cover up my memory.”
“He left out… a lot,” he emphasized.
“Oh.”
“So, where do you want me to start then?”
You chewed on your lip, glancing outside as the cars drove down the main road. If you had told yourself two years ago you’d be sitting in front of your ex-fiance learning about a life you never knew existed… you’d laugh. You’d laugh and tell yourself you’d gone crazy.
“From the beginning,” you sighed.
Bennett leaned back in his chair, stretching his arms behind his head. His eye twitched, the tight scar scrunching the skin around it. You averted your eyes, dropping your gaze to your hands as they fidgeted in your lap.
“Obviously, you remember us moving to Austin,” he started. “It was probably a month or two after that when we started arguing a lot. You were always mad at me for working too much. You complained all the time that I wasn’t present or whatever.” You deadpanned him when he said those words; it was the same as the arguments you remembered during the engagement. Bennett shrugged off your glare and continued. “Anyway, you finally got fed up with everything and called it quits. You moved in with your teacher friend, whatever her name is… I don’t remember.”
“Maria,” you grumbled. “Her name is Maria.”
“Right, yeah.” Bennett quirked a grin as if he knew the buttons he was pushing. “So, you moved in with Maria and must’ve met Joel shortly after that. We didn’t keep in touch during those two years, but I missed you—a lot.”
Now, it was your turn to hit him with a rueful grin. He was so full of shit, just like you remembered.
“I don’t believe that for a minute,” you scoffed.
“Believe whatever you want, but I did miss you. Even with all our fights, I loved you,” he admitted. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you, so after a while, I decided to reach out. I asked if we could go to dinner and talk, you know, work things out. I didn’t expect you to agree to it, but you did. And you know what happened? You laughed. You laughed at everything I said. You told me you were finally happy and in love and that you’d never consider the chance of getting back together. You sure do know how to hurt a man's pride.”
“You probably deserved it,” you said, shrinking back into your chair.
“Yeah, probably,” Bennett exhaled. “Doesn’t matter now, though. Anyway, after dinner, you left, and that’s when the accident happened. I had no idea until your parents called me to the hospital and explained it all to me. Looking back now, I can see how incredibly fucked up it all was, but I wanted a second chance. Joel wasn’t happy with the plan at all. As a matter of fact, he punched the shit out of me right when I walked into the room.”
“What?” You balked.
Bennett laughed dismissively, running a hand over his jaw. You tracked his moments, imagining what Joel must have looked like when he saw Bennett that night. An unwelcomed pang of guilt swarmed inside your chest, not for Bennett, but for Joel. You still hated him, but you couldn’t image the pain he had felt knowing he was losing you. The guilt subsided as you reminded yourself he had a choice to step in, but he allowed it all to happen anyway. He was an accomplice to your parent’s plans. He didn’t fight for you, and that realization stung.
“You alright?” he asked, tilting his head to study you.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” you faltered. “Just—just keep going.”
“Okay,” he cautioned. “I agreed to go along with your parent's plan. I knew it was fucked up, and I knew it would bite everyone in the ass one day, but I did it because I loved you. I wanted a do-over with you, and it felt like the perfect opportunity.”
You nodded slowly, letting his words sink in. If this conversation had happened weeks ago, you would have reacted differently, but there was no anger left to exhaust. You couldn’t be angry at Bennett, at least not for this. You were still allowed to resent him for what he did during the engagement and for leaving you at the altar, but this? This wasn’t something he did; he went along with everything because he loved you…supposedly. That was still arguable.
“So, you got your perfect opportunity and decided to fuck it up.”
Bennett inhaled sharply, drawing his lips into a thin line. There he was, the asshole you remembered. He didn’t like when you called him on his shit, and that’s exactly what you were doing.
“I tried to make it work,” he argued. “I mean, I tried the best I could. I didn’t want to lose you again. So, yeah, I might’ve tried to prevent the chances of you getting your memories back, but it was because I loved you. Then I just got sick of trying. I got sick of you always asking questions and me having to lie. It was exhausting. And then you started saying Joel’s name in your sleep, and I just—.”
“Wait,” you interjected, holding up your hand. “I—I said his name in my sleep?”
Bennett laughed, running a hand over his face. There was a shift in his demeanor, a mixture of anger and sadness.
“Why do you think I slept on the couch most nights? I couldn’t fucking stand it,” he grumbled.
“Bennett, I didn’t fucking know I was doing that!” You shouted. A few people turned their heads at the rise in your voice, but you didn’t care. The anger was awakening inside you again, pounding to get out of the cage you had locked it in.
“Yeah, I know,” Bennett said, rolling his eyes. “I still hated it. I hated knowing that even when you slept, you still loved him. I was never going to be the person to make you happy.”
Tears stung your waterline, and you swiped them away before they could fall.
“That’s why you left.” It wasn’t a question. It was a realization.
“I called Joel the night before the wedding,” he confessed, cringing at the admission. “I told him how I felt, and he told me to leave. Well, he didn’t tell me… It was more like he threatened me. He told me that if I didn’t, he’d find me. We both agreed to stay out of your life, and I think you can piece together the rest.”
You sat before him, speechless. You knew it all along; you were the reason Bennett was unhappy. Instinctively, you always knew it. But hearing it aloud? That was a pain you weren’t ready for. Everything was your fault, from beginning to end. Bennett couldn’t love you, Joel couldn’t fight for you.
Why were you so unloveable?
None of this was your fault, yet everything pointed directly back at you.
You had nothing left to say to Bennett, so you shoved away from the table and fumbled for your purse. He said your name cautiously, grabbing your wrist before you could turn away. You tried to free yourself from his hold, but he squeezed tighter.
“Stop!” You snapped.
“I’m sorry, okay?” Bennett pleaded. “I really am, whether you believe it or not. I fucked up a lot, and I regret the way I left. It wasn’t fair to you.”
“This apology would have meant a lot more two years ago, Bennett,” you cried, still trying to free yourself.
“I know it would have, but I’m doing it now. Alright? I’m sorry for everything I put you through, and I know none of this has been easy for you—.”
“You don’t know shit,” you seethed.
You finally wrangled yourself out of his grip, rubbing your wrist to alleviate the pain from his touch. Bennett stared at you, agonized. You had walked in here hoping for an apology and got it. But it wasn’t enough. What was the point in all of this if nothing healed the pain inside you?
You stumbled out of the cafe with blurry eyes, the cage bars inside you breaking piece by piece. It was only minutes before the anger fully consumed you, and you needed to leave before you let it wreak havoc on everything around you. You needed silence. You needed solitude. You needed a hole to crawl into.
Before you could open your car door, Bennett called out your name and tore you away from the swirling thoughts inside your mind. You tried to ignore him, but he was relentless. Whipping around to face him, you came face first with his chest as he pulled you into an embrace.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered, tightening his arms around your ridged body. “Hate me all you want, but don’t hate Joel. I can have my own grievances with him, but he loves you more than I ever could.”
You slumped into his chest, letting the anger overwhelm you to the point of complete defeat. Crying in Bennett’s arms was the last place you ever expected to be in, but here you were, sobbing into your ex-fiance’s chest. He held you through each wave of emotions, remaining solid and silent.
“Hey,” Bennett whispered, pulling away. “Obviously, I don’t know shit about what’s going on with you, but it’s going to be okay. It’ll take time, but you’re going to be alright. I hope you get those memories back one day. I really do. You deserve to remember the things you lost, and I’m sorry for ever getting in the way of that.”
“Thank you,” you mumbled, wiping away the tears streaming down your face.
Bennett gave you a soft smile and said his goodbyes. You watched him as he retreated to his car, waiting for him to drive away. As you turned toward your car again, you glanced up at the hardware store across the street, meeting the eyes of someone familiar. Someone you didn’t expect to see.
Joel’s brother, Tommy.
The resentful glare in his eye was deadly, and you couldn’t hide from it. He saw you with Bennett. He would tell Joel, even without knowing what had just transpired. For a brief moment, you wanted to rush over and explain everything to him, but you stopped yourself. It didn’t matter what he told Joel—at least, that’s what you told yourself. You could only shy away from Tommy’s scrutinizing stare and duck into your car.
You had been gone too long from your numbness, and you missed it. It was time to bury yourself in your sadness once again and continue trying to unlove Joel Miller.
**
Joel dumped his tools on the dining table with an exasperated sigh. He immediately reached for the fridge, grabbing a beer and popping it open in one fluid motion. As he leaned against the counter with the bottle at his lips, Joel heard the garage door slam shut. Peering around the corner, he tracked Tommy’s movements as he walked into the kitchen.
“What crawled up your ass?” Joel grumbled.
Tommy shrugged off his button-up and tossed it over a dining chair. He ran a hand through his greasy black curls before glancing at Joel. Joel shifted uncomfortably, trying to make sense of Tommy’s demeanor.
“Seriously, Tommy,” Joel huffed. “Spit it the fuck out.”
“I saw her downtown,” Tommy finally said. “She was with that ex-fiance. The one you almost killed.”
Joel swore he felt his heart stop beating. Tommy must have seen wrong; it wasn’t you. It couldn’t have been you. You wouldn’t seek out Bennett, not after everything. You weren’t even seeking Joel out, even after two weeks of earth-shattering silence.
“Are y’sure it was her?” Joel asked through clenched teeth.
Tommy nodded, his eyes drawn to the floor.
“Yeah, it was her. Not sure what was goin’ on between them, but I saw them huggin’ and all that outside of a lil’ cafe,” Tommy explained.
“Probably doesn’t mean nothin’,” Joel shrugged, trying to let denial take over.
If he could deny it, then none of this was real. You weren’t with Bennett again—that wouldn’t happen. You wouldn’t do that. Bennett wouldn’t do that. Maybe Joel should have killed him. It would have torn you apart, but at least Joel could sleep at night knowing Bennett would never be in your life again.
“Joel,” Tommy said, pulling him from his vengeful thoughts.
“It doesn’t matter!” Joel yelled, slamming his beer bottle onto the counter.
The glass rattled between his fingers, and a slow trickle of liquid began seeping out of the crack he created. Joel glanced down at it, unbothered.
“She’s not comin’ back, man,” Tommy sighed. “Y’gotta start movin’ on.”
“Go fuck yourself, Tommy,” Joel snapped.
He shoved off the counter and began to retreat down the hall, but not quick enough for Tommy. Tommy sidestepped in front of him, arms folded and a scowl twisting his lips. Joel knew Tommy hated everything about this situation, but he wasn’t the one experiencing the pain. He was just a bystander in all of this; he didn’t lay awake every night tossing over your words inside his head.
I will never forgive you for this.
Joel wasn’t losing you. He already lost you.
“Listen, Joel. I know this is hard on you, but y’gotta face the truth. She’s gone, man. I know you tried your best to get her back, but it’s just not gonna happen. She deserves to make her own decisions for her life.”
“I know,” Joel sighed. “Doesn’t mean I don’t love her, still.”
Tommy’s brown eyes softened as he looked at Joel, his head dipping in agreement.
“No one said y’had to stop lovin’ her,” Tommy offered.
“I don’t think I ever will,” Joel said.
Joel didn’t sleep much that night. Tossing between the sheets, Joel couldn’t steer away the thoughts of you in another man's arms—let alone Bennett’s. When Joel had seen you at parent-teacher conferences, he wanted to fall to his knees and beg for your forgiveness. He knew you had taken the news rough, but seeing you so physically distraught was another type of pain he hadn’t been prepared for. You were a hollow shell of the woman he loved; your voice held so much bitterness when you spoke to him. Your eyes didn’t look at him with love…it was his own personal Hell. Parting ways with you like that nearly killed him, but not knowing what was going on in your life killed him more. Joel had spent two years in limbo after your accident, always wondering what life would be like if he had you back. And then he had it. He had three beautiful months with you, albeit they were spent wearing rose-colored glasses, but he had you again.
In the blink of an eye, in one messy series of events, he lost you.
He lost you, and he knew you’d never come back.
**
~Six months later~
You thought time would heal the wounds left inside your chest, but you were wrong. Days turned into weeks, weeks turned into months, and nothing felt better. You stopped talking to your family altogether, and the phone calls stopped coming after some time. Beth never tried to reconcile with you, nor did you try to fight for answers. Having your heart broken by Joel and Bennett was one thing, but having it broken by your sister was a different kind of pain. It was visceral. It was a betrayal so brutal you still had yet to recover. Thinking of the things she had said to you in Boston only left you with debilitating headaches; her words festered deeper than anyone else’s.
The truth is that you are a fucking idiot. And on top of that, you’re a coward.
You weren’t the coward; Beth was. She chose to hold onto those secrets for the last few years and weaponize them against you. You weren’t the idiot; you were the victim. You were the victim in all of this, yet everyone wanted to pin the aftermath on you.
You were a mad woman, haunting an empty house with no one to confide in. You cut off all friendships with other teachers, especially Maria. You became a hands-off teacher, only going as far as in-class readings, quizzes, and occasional tests when necessary. The students adapted to the shift in your mood, and while you lived with the guilt of becoming that teacher, it was the only way you could survive the work days. The less effort you put into things, the less risk you had for disappointment or frustration.
Sarah avoided you at all costs during class. She no longer participated in class discussions—which were far and few—but kept her head low and her grades satisfactory. Sometimes, you’d catch her watching you during class, her hazel eyes swimming with concern. You couldn’t stomach looking at her for more than a few seconds. You weren’t sure if she ever reported back to Joel about you, and honestly, you didn’t care. Well, maybe sometimes you did. It didn’t happen often, but there were fleeting moments of unwelcome flashbacks to your time with Joel months ago. Flashes of his hands on your body, his crooked smile, his deep voice. They wove through your mind at the worst moments, and everything hurt again.
The school year had finally ended, and your days were filled with endless bouts of nothing. You exhausted everything: plucking weeds in your front yard, rearranging your kitchen cabinets (for the seventh time), building a new bookshelf…You found anything you could to keep yourself busy and the wandering thoughts at bay.
The Texas heat was becoming unbearable, so you opted to spend the weekend indoors, siphoning through your closet. Heaps of clothes cluttered the ground around you as you tore apart each shelf, miscellaneous keepsakes piled in the corner. It wasn’t until you were elbow-deep in the crevices of your closet that you found the book.
Romeo and Juliet.
The flimsy spine and dog-eared pages taunted you. You sat motionless with your hands hovering over the book, torn between flipping through the pages and setting it on fire. Minutes passed, though they felt like hours, and you remained paralyzed, stuck in limbo between the past and present. You’d tell yourself it was a moment of weakness, but you grabbed the book and let your hands move through the pages.
“Under love’s heavy burden do I sink.
And, to sink in it, should you burden love;
Too great oppression for a tender thing.
Is love a tender thing? it is too rough,
Too rude, too boisterous, and it pricks like thorn.
If love be rough with you, be rough
with love;
Prick love for pricking, and you beat love down.”
The words hit you harder than you expect. Staring at the margins of the pages, scribbled with your words and thoughts, you blinked back tears. You thought you were strong enough for this. Tossing the book halfway across the bathroom, you succumbed to the tears that pooled in your eyes. Laying on the messy floor, you wrapped your arms around your shins and stared at the book as it taunted you from across the room. Your eyes caught onto something peeking out of the pages, and you slowly tilted your head.
That wasn’t…
No.
You couldn’t pull yourself to your feet, so you decided to crawl to where the book lay. As you got closer, you started to make out the grainy features of Joel plastered onto a Polaroid. With shaking fingers, you lifted it into the light, your eyes growing wide. Basked in the hue of sunset sat Joel, his broad torso dressed in a white shirt, with the biggest smile plastered on his face captured in a moment of laughter. Something sparked inside your chest as you stared at it longer, your eyes memorizing every softened feature of Joel’s face. He still had that patchy beard you were so familiar with, the sparse spots along his jaw no different than they were now. Creases around his closed eyes proved that his laughter in the photo had been genuine.
You missed his smile.
Shaking away those tender thoughts, you tried to pull yourself to your feet, only to have your ankle caught in a strap of a dress, sending you crashing to the floor. Your arms tried to brace for impact, but you didn’t catch yourself in time. Your body smacked against the corner of your shower door, your head taking most of the impact.
And everything went dark.
“Sarah, you’re a mess!” You laughed.
Her curls were caked with mud, and half her clothes were soaked. You, Joel, and Sarah had decided to drive into the small town outside the campground for dinner, and of course, you got caught in the rain. As you all made a beeline for the diner, Sarah tripped into a huge puddle between cars, splattering rainwater and mud all over herself. Joel couldn’t contain his laughter, and neither could you.
Joel took a seat on the beach outside the diner, trying to catch his breath from laughing, but every time he glanced up at Sarah’s messy face, he lost it all over again. You scrambled through your backpack to find your Polaroid camera, snapping a quick picture.
“Hey!” Joel laughed, grabbing you by the waist and dragging you down to the bench.
“What?” You asked innocently. “It was the perfect opportunity! Plus, you look extra handsome right now.”
“Handsome, huh?” He smirked, peeking you on the cheek.
You shook the Polaroid as it developed, presenting him with the proof. He was handsome. So fucking handsome. Joel reached for the camera in your hands, turning it quickly on you. You stuck out your tongue, trying to hold back another fit of laughter.
“Perfect,” he grinned before turning toward Sarah.
“Alright, kiddo. Smile!”
“Dad, stop!” Sarah wined.
But Joel was too fast, the camera shutter going off right in time to capture Sarah’s big pout.
Each of you had a Polaroid now, picture proof of a happy family.
Pinpricks of pain stabbed into each side of your head as you finally roused from your sleep. You squinted through the harsh light of the bathroom, letting your eyes readjust to your surroundings. Everything was foggy, but you remembered.
Oh God, you remembered everything.
The nausea was quick to hit you, and you scrambled to the toilet. You weren’t sure if the fall was to blame for the sudden disruption to your body or the memories slamming back into place, but you were helplessly stuck with your head over the toilet. Flash after flash, like the shutter of your camera, everything fell back into place.
“Oof! I’m so sorry!” You said, rubbing your nose.
You had turned the corner too quickly and smashed right into the solid chest of a student’s father.
“S’all my fault, miss.”
The voice alone sent shivers up your spine, but they multiplied as you gazed up into a pair of deep brown eyes. You lost all the words in your vocabulary as you took in the sight of the most handsome man you’d ever seen. He was too rugged and masculine to call ‘cute’; handsome fit him so much better. With dark scruff covering his jaw and creases around his eyes, whoever this man was…he was stunning. You were captivated.
“I really should have looked before I turned the corner,” you rambled.
“Don’t go apologizin’,” he said, offering you a kind smile. “I coulda got outta the way.”
“Do you make a habit of taking up an obscene amount of space?” You joked.
“Depends on the hall,” he countered, extending his hand. “Joel Miller.”
You told him your name, then shook your head.
“I should probably keep it professional. You can call me Miss Smith.”
“Nah, don’t need all the formalities here. Your name is just fine.”
“Is your daughter enrolled here?” You asked. It was hard to maintain the color creeping into your cheeks.
“That she is,” he said proudly. “Goin’ into third grade this year. She’s a real good kid.”
“I bet she is. I’m only student teaching while I finish my Master’s program, but I’ll be taking on a position with middle school students next year. Maybe she’ll be my student one day.”
“I reckon she’d be pretty lucky,” he offered.
“Yeah?” Now, you were definitely blushing.
“Yeah,” Joel smiled. “Somethin’ ‘bout you makes me think you’ll be one of the best teachers in the school.”
“That’s a bold statement, given the fact you hardly just met me.”
“I wouldn’t hate it if I got to know you more.”
Your eyes shifted down the hallway, watching for any teachers that might be coming. You weren’t sure what the policy was for flirting with a student’s parent, but it was hard to stop when he was so enticing.
“I don’t think I’d hate it, either.”
Another wave of nausea hit you, and you groaned. The room was spinning, your body ached from falling, and countless memories continued to pile up inside your mind.
You were overwhelmed.
Those two years of nothing became everything in the span of minutes.
Dragon Tales was playing softly in the background as you curled your body around Joel’s. His hand was tracing circles around your shoulder as you both “watched” the TV. Something electric pulsed between your bodies, an unavoidable shift that had continued to unfurl over the last several months. You didn’t know how to verbalize your emotions—at least, not without knowing if he felt the same.
“Joel,” you whispered.
His eyes were already on you when you finally glanced up. It was written all over his face. It was the proof you needed; he felt the same.
“Yeah, baby?”
“I really like you,” you confessed. “Okay, well, maybe I really, really like you.”
“Maybe I really, really like you, too.”
You peeled yourself from his warm body, turning to face him completely.
“I’m gonna say something,” you warned. “Please don’t freak out. It’s okay if you don't—.”
Joel’s lips were pressed against yours before you could finish the sentence. You melted into his touch, your hands coming up to tangle in the messy curls at the nape of his neck. He held you firm to his mouth, his tongue dragging over your bottom lip.
“I love you, baby,” he mumbled. “So much.”
You reeled him in for another frenzied kiss, all your efforts to contain your smile going down the drain. Oh, God. He loved you.
“I love you, Joel.”
You sagged onto the bathroom floor. The throbbing in your head was growing stronger and stronger with each memory. You wanted to tear your brain from your skull and flush it down the toilet, but that wouldn’t help anything. This was what you wanted, wasn’t it? All your memories were coming back, and yet, you desperately wished they would fade away again.
You loved Joel.
It was a fact you already knew, but remembering the exact moment you admitted…. You were going to be sick all over again.
“Y’look so pretty in my t-shirt, baby,” Joel hummed.
He lay up against the headboard of the bed while you paced the room. You gripped the binding of your copy of Romeo and Juliet, your mind racing a thousand miles a minute. It was hard to focus when his bare chest was on display, the spattering of dark chest hair swirling down his torso and disappearing under the waistband of his boxers.
Focus.
“Don’t distract me!” You pleaded. “Okay, you know how I was talking about how Romeo is just head over heels for Juliet? Get this: they kiss right away in the first act! He’s so bold with how he speaks to her, and then he just kisses her. And Juliet’s response is basically telling Romeo that all of his sin is on her lips now.”
“And what happens next, baby?” Joel asked, quirking a smile.
“Romeo says, ‘Give me my sin again’, and then they kiss… again!”
“Ain’t he just a romantic,” Joel chuckled. “Now, can y’get your sinful ass in bed?”
“What? This one?” You teased, flipping up the hem of his shirt.
Joel’s eyes dropped to your backside as you exposed your naked body, and he nearly went flying across the foot of the bed to grab you. You shrieked with laughter as he tugged you onto the comforter, flipping you onto your back.
“C’mere, baby,” he growled.
His lips trailed down your neck, sucking marks into the skin just below your collarbone. You let out a small whimper and helped guide the t-shirt off your body. Somewhere along the way, your book had dropped to the ground, but you didn’t care. You’d much rather give into the sin of Joel’s lips on your body.
It felt like an eternity had passed when your stomach finally settled. You managed to drag yourself from the floor, staggering your way into the bedroom. The migraine behind your eyes had still yet to subside, so you threw yourself into bed and buried your body under the comforter and pillows. You had everything back—everything you wanted—but why wasn’t it enough?
The images of Joel swam through the pressurized ache inside your mind; his smile refracted in the blinding light of a constant camera shutter. Snapshots of the past dissolved from the darkness, fragmented puzzle pieces slowly molding into place.
Another flash, another memory.
A frustrated scream erupted from your mouth, muffled into the pillows surrounding you. Every thought started and ended with Joel. Joel. Joel. Joel. Was this how it felt to go crazy?
It was clear that sleep was evading you; it ran from the thought of Joel quicker than you could. Pulling yourself from the bed, you emerged into the bathroom once again and began rifling through the piles of clothes.
What the hell were you supposed to wear to see someone who was no longer a stranger?
#joel miller x reader#joel x reader#joel miller x f!reader#joel x f!reader#joel x teacher!f!reader#joel miller#tlou#pre outbreak!joel#joel miller pre outbreak#joel miller fic#tlou fic#angst angst angst
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hey hi, could i make a request? Im happy to see another good author starting :) u also seem very nice. could i request a yoongi x preferably fem!reader? if you want you can make it a genderneutral fic. my idea was a scenario were one of them is jealous, i thought of it being her jealous of him, over something stupid, but not in a toxic way like yk just pure jealusy mixed with insecurities. And they have a little petty argument and like it ends with smut i mean they make up to eachother that way :P like smut mixed with fluff at its purest. also, i am really curious to see how u write yoongi, i see many authors making him cold and tough but i believe that he is a very caring softie haha, by the morning wood headcanons, i think you got him very well ;) thank u in advance
REGRETS (m)
Pairing: Idol!Yoongi x FEM!Reader
Genre: angst, fluff, smut, one shot, request, established relationship
Warnings: jealousy, insecurities, a petty argument, depictions of sex, crying, emotional, oral sex (f receiving), vaginal fingering, bodily fluids, penetration (vaginal), a bit of praise, light biting, squirting
Word count: 5k
Summary: uhhh idk dude just read the request that’s pretty much it
A/N: UGH I LOVE THIS IDEA!! I don’t have much experience with writing angst so this was a really nice exercise. Thank you sooo so much for all the kind words, it’s what keeps me writing. I’m also a sucker for soft Yoongi so this is right up my alley. (Also this is not proofread so lmk if there’s any mistakes or anything)
Thursday night, it’s quiet outside. You’re trying to watch a movie with Yoongi. Key word trying. His hand has been gently rubbing your thigh for a few minutes now, whenever he tries sliding it up to tease you, you grab it and put it back onto his lap. He’s clearly trying to get you heated, but it’s having quite the opposite effect. Lately you’ve felt quite out of it, your lack of confidence causing you to avoid intimacy. With Yoongi being the gentleman he is, he always accepts it when he realizes you’re not in the mood and he moves on. However, you’re starting to doubt his ability to keep going like this. What if he realizes you aren’t satisfactory to him anymore? He could easily find someone else who would be all over him in seconds.
Replaceable. That’s how you’ve been feeling lately. He could have anyone he wants, so why you? “Are you not feeling it tonight?” Yoongi’s voice startles you out of your thoughts. “Huh? Oh. No I’m sorry.” You respond, your voice growing quieter with the end of the sentence. “That’s okay, c’mere.” He mumbles before pulling you into his chest, his hand soothing down your back.
‘Will he stay with me if I keep pushing him away like this?’ Is what you keep asking yourself. On one hand you’re afraid he’ll stop loving you if you stop showing him affection. And on the other hand, you’ve been so self conscious lately about your body and if you’re doing things right you don’t know if it’s worse to ruin the relationship by pushing him away or by not being good enough. ‘Do I even deserve to be with him at this point?’
Friday, 4:37PM. You got off work early today so you decided to stop by Yoongi’s studio. He’s still working so you’re lounging around on one of the couches inside of the room. The two of you had made plans to get dinner together when he finishes up for the day which you’re really looking forward to.
A short blurry figure appears at the studio door, they raise their hand up and place three quiet knocks onto the glass. Yoongi gets up with a huff and opens the door. In front of him stands a familiar woman, you can’t quite remember her name, but you’ve seen her around the company building before.
“Here’s your coffee Suga!” She says in a cheery tone. Her eyes land on you and her smile falls a bit. “Oh, I didn’t know you would be here. Sorry I didn’t get you anything.” She apologizes with a light bow of her head. You dismiss her with a wave of your hand before going back to fidgeting with the hem of your sweater. She turns her attention back to Yoongi who is setting his drink down onto his desk. “Hey Suga, a few of us are going to that barbecue place down the street for dinner and drinks tonight. Do you guys wanna come with?” She asks with a tilt of her head, her long black hair swaying with the movement.
“Uhh, yeah?” He looks at you quickly for confirmation to which you nod your head lightly. “Yeah. Sure we’ll come.”
Yoongi continues chatting with the girl. She casually leans against the door frame, the conversation between them flowing oh so easily. ‘It took me ages to be able to talk to him that smoothly. Why couldn’t I be like her?’ You think to yourself, trying your best to not let your irritation show.
He bids her farewell and sits back down at his desk. For the remaining time you spend in his studio all you can look at is him. Your gaze burns holes into his side profile, tracing each curve of his features over and over again. Why would a man whose heart only knows kindness, whose eyes and soul are so understanding of everything be with you? Your being is rotten with unforgiving bitterness, you seethe at every imperfection like a nun enraged by sin. Why would he want you?
He’s like a wild flower. He needs to be pollinated by the love and kindness of a bee to bloom, yet he stays with you, a caterpillar feeding off of him, biting off his flesh for your gain. Eating away at him and leaving nothing. Maybe you aren’t even a caterpillar. They can eventually turn into a beautiful creature with wings of eyeful colors, yet you can’t become anything more than what you are. You’re stuck in a vicious cycle, devouring every resource without paying any mind to the fact there will be nothing left when you’re done. What does he get for loving you if you can’t be of use? You can’t make him bloom.
“(Y/N)? (Y/N)!” You snap out of your thoughts, the reality around you giving you whiplash. Yoongi is kneeling in front of you, holding your jacket out. “Let’s go, we’ll be late.” You try to take it from his hands, but instead of giving it to you he holds it up so you can slip your arms inside. Once it’s on you he turns you around and zips it up for you. “Okay, let’s go.”
As you’re walking down the long hallways towards the elevators, Yoongi notices something odd. You usually grab onto his hand the moment you start walking somewhere together, but your hand is tucked away in your pocket now. He gently pulls it out and intertwines your fingers together. You can’t bring yourself to grip onto him like usual, instead you limply keep your hand at your side, letting him hold it. He’s a bit confused by this, but nevertheless he keeps holding you, his grasp only growing tighter in an effort to reassure you.
Yang Sunhee. Her name popped up in your head the moment she sat down across from you and Yoongi at the long wooden table. She’s been leading the conversation at your part of the table for a while now, mostly talking to Yoongi. To her credit she has tried to include you into the conversation a few times, but you didn’t really give her much to work with so she gave up.
You’ve been pushing your food around your plate for a while now. It’s mostly pieces of meat Yoongi placed down onto it for you, your favorite in fact. You just can’t get yourself to even place anything into your mouth, anxiety squeezing your throat so tightly you can barely even swallow your own saliva.
Sunhee is laughing at something, her eyes bright and her large smile hidden away behind a polite hand. Yoongi is laughing too, maybe not as hard as her, but he’s still laughing. ‘Why am I not the one making him laugh right now? Am I not funny anymore?’
As you’re glaring down at your food you feel a warm hand make contact with your shoulder. “You wanna go home?” Yoongi asks quietly, tucking a stray piece of hair behind your ear. “Yes please.” You breathe out, barely audible. On the drive home Yoongi tries asking what’s wrong multiple times, but all he gets in response is a simple “I just don’t feel too well.”
It’s been a few days now since you had dinner with Yoongi’s coworkers. He realized something was wrong so he’s been giving you some space. To be quite honest you aren’t sure if the space is helping or making it worse. After spending the whole day quietly sobbing to yourself in bed you decide to see what he’s up to. You find him sitting in the living room watching some sort of documentary and looking like he’s about to fall asleep. One of his cheeks is squished against a pillow and his hair is going on all the wrong directions. He looks adorable, your heart almost breaks in two knowing this is who you’ve been pushing away lately.
Taking a seat next to him, he lifts up his blanket so you can use it too. Just as you’re getting sleepy as well his phone pings on the coffee table. Instinctively you reach down for it so you can hand it to him, but when you see the contact name annoyance squeezes at your chest.
Yang Sunhee
Sent a message
“Why is she texting you?” The question slips from your mouth before you can even think it through. “I don’t know, let me see.” He responds while extending his hand out for the phone. You peer over at the screen, shamelessly trying to see what she sent. “Ah it’s just the schedule for next week.” He says and likes the message before setting his phone back down. Now you feel a bit guilty. Why were you questioning the intentions of this woman? She’s his employee after all.
Yoongi’s large hand comes up to cup your face, his thumb gently gliding over your cheekbone. “I know that look, what’s wrong baby?” He asks, his dark eyes skimming your face in search for answers. “It’s nothing.” You respond a bit too quickly, your tone stiff. The corner of Yoongi’s lip quirks up. “You’re jealous, aren’t you?”
Your eyes shoot open, “N-no!” you sputter out a weak defense. His hand slides down to your chin, the grip tightening a bit. His smirk spreads into a smile which angers you. He thinks this is funny?
“Don’t fucking touch me right now.” You say in a way harsher manner than you intended, tearing his hand away from your face. A flash of hurt runs over Yoongi’s face, his smile instantly falling. “Don’t look at me like that! I just- I need a moment right now.” You say in an apologetic tone. “You need a moment? I’ve been giving you a moment for days now. What about me? I keep trying so hard and you don’t show an ounce of being grateful. What’s your problem?” His tone gets louder as he talks, anger evident in his facial expressions.
“Problem? Oh it’s a problem now that I can’t always feel one hundred percent happy? Go sleep with some happy drugged out whore then if that’s what you want!” Without realizing it your tone has risen to a yell, you’re standing now, no longer in the comfort of warm blankets on the couch. “Don’t yell at me!” He yells back, tears beginning to brim his eyes.
“You’re yelling too asshole! Oh you’re gonna cry? Go cry to Sunhee, maybe she can suck your dick to make it better if you can’t go a week without me sucking it!” The moment you finish the last sentence a silence falls over the apartment. Yoongi stares at you wide eyed, unable to form a single sentence.
He looks like a kicked puppy, his eyes watery and his hands trembling. Realizing you went to far the only thing that pops up in your head is leaving the apartment for a bit. You speed walk to the front door, tugging your shoes on quickly and pulling a random jacket on. “Hey, hey! Where are you going?” Yoongi follows you once he realizes what you’re doing. Unable to look at his face you grab your keys and walk out, slamming the door behind you.
Not knowing where to go you walk to the nearest park. Taking a seat on one of the benches you stare up at the moon. “Why did I say that?” You mumble to yourself, tears stinging at your eyes. Your throat contracts, guilt choking you. There’s no holding back now, you let your sobs loose, tears running down your face uncontrollably.
“(Y/N)? Is that you?” A soft voice calls out to your right. Your head shoots up, trying to find the source of the sound. There stands Sunhee, she seems to be in her pajamas with a puffer jacket thrown on top. Her hair is a mess and she’s holding a leash. A little white dog sniffs around near her legs, you assume it’s her’s.
“What’s wrong?” She asks as she sits down next to you. “Ah don’t worry about it.” You mumble, sniffling lightly. “You’re so pretty (Y/N), I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone look good while they cry before.” Sunhee says with a genuine smile. “I- uh what?” You tilt your head to the side in confusion. “If I didn’t have a girlfriend I’d be jealous of Suga for having a girlfriend as pretty as you.” She giggles lightly.
“WHAT?” The question comes out harsher than you intend, the whole situation confusing you. “Listen, if you ever leave Suga just give me a call.” She says with a playful wink. You laugh in disbelief, your tears completely gone now. “You’re funny Sunhee.” You say, still sniffling lightly. “I’m not joking, but thank you.” She giggles along with you.
“Now why are you outside so late?” She asks while pulling her dog up into her lap. “I had a fight with Yoongi, I didn’t really know where else to go. I’m kind of scared to face him right now.” You answer truthfully. “Girl, have you seen how he looks at you? That man is a goner, I’m sure whatever you argued about isn’t that bad. You should go home and apologize, you can talk it through.” She says while giving you an encouraging smile. “You think so?” You ask quietly. “I know so.”
Even with Sunhee’s encouragement you’re still unsure. Guilt wracks through your whole body, pressing down on your insides and making you nauseous. You try to be as quiet as possible when you enter the apartment, but the sound of the heavy front door closing and jingling of keys betrays you. Just as you’re taking your shoes off you hear shuffling down the hallway. Yoongi’s dark figure emerges, you’re ready to hear something nasty from him, but instead you’re met with two warm arms wrapped around you.
“Thank god you’re safe.” He mumbles before kissing the top of your head. “I’m sorry Yoongi, I’m so sorry baby. Please don’t leave me. I didn’t-“ you’re cut off by a hiccup, your tears returning. “I didn’t mean to say any of that. Please, please don’t leave me I’ll never do that again…” You sob into his chest. “Shhhhh, I know you didn’t mean it, I should’ve done some things differently too.” His hand softly pets your head.
“I’ve been trying to figure out why you’ve been acting so weird lately and I think I get it now. You look at her like she killed your dog. You know she’s a lesbian right?” You can’t help but laugh a bit at that. “Yeah I kind of found that out just now.” You mumble, your fingers tangling into the material of his shirt. “Why don’t you like her?” You can feel him softly smile against your hair as he asks the question.
“I don’t know I just-“ You try to form the right words, but they won’t come. “Ugh! She’s just so pretty and she’s really open, it feels like she’s perfect and has everything you could need and I’m just sort of me? I don’t know, it’s stupid. I’m just projecting.” Yoongi listens intently to everything you say while he takes your jacket off. “Lately I’ve felt like the shell of who I was when you met me, you know? I’m just sort of bleh- and every other woman around me seems to have her shit togehter.” A tear runs down your cheek and Yoongi chases it away with his thumb.
“It’s why I’ve been avoiding having sex lately. I just feel gross and ugly while you… you look like you were sculpted by the ancient Greeks. You need a Hera to your Zeus. I’m like a satyr or something!” You let out a bitter laugh, trying to mask your feelings. “Hmm I think we’re more like Orpheus and Eurydice. Except I don’t want to lose you the way he lost her. They were such perfect lovers, yet there was something tragic about them. What’s love without tragedy?” He softly spoke, continuing to wipe your tears. You let out a genuine laugh and hit his chest lightly. “You idiot! You don’t get it.”
“I think I at least partially get it. I mean hell you make my knees weak whenever you look me in the eye woman, and we’ve been dating for years! I’d go to the pits of hell for you a million times more than Orpheus if it meant having a bit more time to spend with you. There’s no other person that could fulfill your role in my life as well as you do. I love you for you, you’re my muse. My light.” He places a ginger peck onto your forehead.
Love and desire suddenly flood through you, grabbing the collar of his shirt you pull him into a rough kiss. A few more tears make their way past your eyelids, but these ones of relief and joy rather than sadness and frustration. Yoongi gladly accepts your advances, kissing you back firmly. He barely wastes any time trying to get his tongue intertwined with yours. Your interwoven muscles becoming a metaphor for your souls combining together, the act of physical intimacy projecting your consciousness into one being, content and whole.
One of your hands shoot up to grip his hair a bit tighter than necessary which makes him release a deep moan. He pants against your lips, trying to catch his breath, but unable to fully separate your bodies. As he had endured yearning for you such a torturous amount, how could he let you go now?
He presses you flat against the door, holding you down chest to chest. His cold hands slide up your shirt, the contrast of temperature making you shiver. Caressing the skin of your stomach so lightly it tickles, he snakes one of his hands behind your back, swiftly unclipping your bralette in one movement. You let it drop to the floor, the only thing on your mind right now being the feeling of his body on yours. With his hands lightly ghosting over your breasts now, you shudder each time one of his fingers brushed against your nipples. Slowly he pulls your shirt off, the cold night air bites at your skin making your nipples harden. Instinctively your arms shoot up to cover yourself, but Yoongi stops you. He firmly grips your wrists and pins them down above your head.
Now fully exposed to him, he looks you in the eyes before licking a fat stripe from the area between your breasts to your neck. Lightly blowing onto the wet part of your skin, you take in a deep breath from the sensation. He begins to trail kisses down to your chest, letting go of your hands so he can bring you as close to him as possible. You tug at his hair softly as he mouthes at ode of your breasts, his tongue lightly teasing the soft bud. He groans softly before kissing down lower so he can get onto his knees.
He kneels before you know, unashamed of the submissive position he’s in. His teeth occasionally graze your stomach between sloppy open mouthed kisses. Looking up at you through his lashes, Yoongi starts undoing your pants. He pushes them down as if they’re getting in the way and moves his kisses down to your thighs. His uncalculated mouth moves dangerously close to your clothed cunt. Hovering over it he purposefully breathes through his mouth so you can feel his warm breath on your skin. You gasp when he suddenly pressed his nose against your pussy and inhales deeply. You can peel the tips of your ears heating up from embarrassment, but Yoongi doesn’t seem to care in the slightest.
“Ugh, fuck how I missed this part of you.” He groans as he kisses over the thin fabric. Finding your clit almost immediately he starts to roll his tongue against it through your panties. Your arousal and his saliva mix together in the material causing an uncomfortable need for real contact.
“Yoongi, take it off already…” you whisper to him, brushing his bangs out of his face. Looking up at you with a cheeky smirk he grabs onto the hem of your underwear with his teeth, making sure to lightly graze your sensitive skin with them as he pulls down. Your panties don’t even have the chance to reach the floor and his mouth is already on you again. He runs his tongue through your folds, making you instinctively angle your hips to give him more access. Heedlessly circling your clit with his tongue, he occasionally sucks on it or flicks it. You’re unsure if his mouth is glistening from his own saliva or from your wetness, but the sloppy noises he’s making are causing you to involuntarily buck your hips into his mouth.
“You’re so beautiful like this, my sweet girl.” He mumbles as he pulls away, nuzzling his head into your thigh. Replacing his tongue with his fingers, you let out a quiet moan when he slips them inside of you. “I love having you like this, only for me to see. You know I’d never do this for anyone else, right?” He emphasizes the question by pressing his fingers down against your sweet spot. ”Shit, Yoongi. I love you so much, no one makes me cum like you do.” Your response comes out in a dragged out whine.
Satisfied with your reply his mouth returns to your clit while his fingers work you open. The combination of sensations makes an orgasm built up in your abdomen fast. “Yoon- Yoongi, I’m gonna ah- I’m gonna cum!” You moan out, trying to warn him. This only encourages him to go faster as an orgasm ripples through you in harsh waves, your head falling back against the door as your eyes roll into the back of your head. You spasm slightly as he continues to work your cunt, trying to pull him away so he doesn’t overstimulate you.
He licks off your juices from his fingers, wiping his lips with the back of his hand. As soon as he’s back on his feet you go in for a kiss, leaning on him for support while still coming down from your high. He refuses to let your lips part as he leads you to the bedroom, his shirt and pants getting lost along the way.
“Lay down baby.” He mumbled against your lips as he led you to the bed. Kneeling down between your legs he made sure you were comfortable on your pillow. No matter how basic, missionary was always the best when you needed to express your love sexually. Parting your lips he pulls you down a little so your thighs are pressed together. He grabs his erect cock out of his underwear, not even bothering to get rid of the boxers. Pumping it a few times he gives you a dopey look, a lazy smirk spreading on his face.
“You ready?” He rasps out, rubbing the tip of his cock against your swollen clit, mixing his precum together with the aftermath of your previous orgasm. “A little too ready.” You replied, running a hand through your hair. “Mmm I can tell.” He teases while spreading the natural lubricant over his cock. Slowly he pressed the tip in, “Fuck, it’s going in so easily, o barely had to prep you. You really want it, don’t you?” his brows crease together in pleasure as he slowly bottoms out. “Yes, fuck Yoongi I want your cock so bad.” Your hand shoots up to grab onto his shoulder, biting your lip at the fullness.
“Please, (Y/N). Can I move?” He murmured, holding onto your hips tightly. “Yes, fuck me Yoongi.” You replied, grabbing his face to place a wet kiss onto his lips. He let out a low moan as he started thrusting into you, the warmth and wetness of your cunt feeling better each time he fucked it. You lightly squeezed your walls on purpose knowing it drives him crazy. “Oh my- ah shit I won’t last long at all if you do that.” He said breathily, his hips jerking forward involuntarily. You hooked one of your legs onto his hips, pulling him forward so he’s pressed into your cunt as deeply as possible. The both of you groaned at that, as soon as you let go he started thrusting into you with a quicker pace. His movements rapidly increased with each slap of skin that echoed throughout the space, his head thrown back. That look on his face means he’s absolutely lost in please and that makes you proud. He molds so perfectly inside you it makes all of your doubts melt away, it’s like he was made for you.
Matching the pace of his thrust to his fingers flicking your clit, Yoongi can swear he can feel you pulsating around him. “Ah, fuck (Y/N) I think I’m gonna cum already. Shit I’m sorry it just feels too good.” He groans, the already pink tips of his ears darkening. “It’s okay, go ahead baby, cum inside me.” You breathily respond, continuing to moan with each of his thrusts. He speeds up before abruptly stopping, the feeling of his warm seed filling you up making you clench around his cock. “Wait, shit, shit run my pussy please I’m so close too.” His fingers immediately speed up on your clit, furiously flicking it as your abdomen tightens again. As the hot white pleasure rips through your whole body, making your muscles spasm you hear a wet noise. Looking down the moment you can open your eyes you see Yoongi’s lower stomach covered in a clear liquid.
“Did you just make me squirt?” You laugh in disbelief. “That’s a first.” He mumbles before pulling his cock out, various liquids gliding down your ass. “I’ll go get a towel. He quickly gets up, trying his best not to make any of his surroundings wet.
As the two of you are laying in bed, your warm baked bodies pressed together, you feel Yoongi’s chest vibrate as he speaks up. “From now on, you always have to tell me when something’s bothering you, okay?” He softly says, stroking your hair. “Okay.” You whisper back. “Promise?” He questions while raising his pinky finger up, you lock yours with his, pressing your thumbs together. “Promise.”
#bts fanfic#bts fluff#bts x reader#bts x fem!reader#yoongi x reader#yoongi x y/n#yoongi x you#bts x you#bts smut#bts angst#suga x reader#suga x y/n#suga x you#min yoongi x reader#min yoongi x you#min yoongi x y/n#bts x y/n#bts x female reader
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!!URGENT HELP FOR G@Z@!!
Hello everyone. I know I haven’t been posting any twst content for a while, and I am planning on doing so soon, but this takes urgency!
After some research and seeing how much my last 🍉 post did I decided that I’m gonna post this one with links to directly help families/people in G@za who need help (and I’m censoring the place because tumblr has taken down posts of other people who have spoken about the gen0cide before)
Please try to donate and if not then reblog like comment and share this to other platforms, post this to your personal account on other socials, send it to your friends and family, or even just @ people.
But before that I just wanted to tell everyone that I do have news from my first post, it’s under the cut alongside the links :-
I sadly just saw this for some reason, but still wanted to share it with you guys!!
Now for the links:-
This one if for Ahmed Al-Nasser who has two young boys and a pregnant wife who is in dire need of a c-section
This one is for Nurse Maha, she has a husband and a small boy, Nour, who’s only 2 years old that hasn’t had any vaccines or any medical help
This one is for Haneens family, thankfully she lives in Belgium and doesn’t have to suffer or watch the war currently going on, but her family of 11 do. Both her parents have chronic illnesses, and some of them are young kids.
This one is for Ahmed, who’s a father (he doesn’t specify of how much but he has a picture of his two TODDLER daughters) he has been displaced with his family and his diabetic father, they are halfway to their goal only needing 75,772kr.
I sadly don’t know anything about this next link other than they have a child who has special needs, so please do share or even better donate!
This one is for Haitham, a 31 year old male, he needs emergency surgery, but at the state G@aza is in he can’t get it
This one is for Ahmen, a doctor in g@za. He is so so so far from his goal (his goal is 15,000€ and he only has 2,778€) this isn’t even for him, bless his soul, it’s for his elderly father who is unable to walk and is need for emergency surgery.
This last one is for Nour, a 31 year old mom and a wife to Amir who is 35. They have 4 gorgeous children (Kareem (7 years old), Imad (6 years old), Tia (2 years old), and Abdel Rahman (five months old)) it after reading their story I am in actual tears and my heart hurts for them. Poor Abdel Rahman was only 10 day, Ten days, old when all this has happened. This kids have their whole lives ahead of them and they might not see it because of what’s happening to them.
Tagging some people I know will reblog this: @jade-s-nymph @siphoklansan @ceruleancattail @catboiie16 @cloudcountry
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The Soulmate Theory - Todoroki Shouto x Reader
I welcome you to my probably last-ever Soulmate fic. As much as I love reading this trope, it's gotten harder and harder to write. I hope you like it. This is for @shoulmate
Trope: You share your Soulmate's pain.
Soulmates used to be a thing.
A long, long time ago, way before the first ever Quirk was documented, Soulmate bonds were just as common as Quirks are nowadays.
Your grandmother used to be fascinated by it, told you stories about her grandmother who was convinced she shared a soulmate bond even though not one case had been documented in the last hundred years before her.
It’s only natural, you’d say, that you didn’t realize you had one. After all, why would you think that?
-
Pain has always been part of your life.
Your wrists hurt and your legs hurt and your back hurts and your stomach hurts… all the time. The doctors cannot find anything, some even accuse you of pretending for attention. You’d gladly trade all that attention against a pain-free day.
Your Quirk’s Telekinesis and you’re so glad about it, because how else would you be able to move that pen and write that notes when your hands hurt like this?
You’re getting better at it too, threading a needle or picking up the last grain of rice with your thoughts alone.
-
A dull ache has settled behind your left eye after what has been the most intense pain flare you’ve ever had. All you want to do is rest.
But your mind is reeling, craving an outlet for all the thoughts inside your head.
Your restless eyes find some fabric in the corner of the room. Soon enough a few needles are working their magic, a creation coming to life before your eyes.
You might not be able to walk around most days, but at least you can still create outfits you’d love to flaunt in.
-
Years later
-
“Can you take over my student?” Kameko asks, “He wants a completely new costume.”
“What year?”
“First year. And his old one wasn’t even destroyed.”
“So? Maybe he found something out about himself.”
She huffs. “Please? I still have to finish Amajiki’s new design and you know how anxious he gets.”
“Yeah, no problem. Can you take another first year off my plate then? His name is Midoriya and he ripped it in half, it seems.”
“Oh yeah, give it to me.”
Someone clears their throat. You look up from your work into a set of heterochromatic eyes, one blue, one grey.
“Yes?” You ask. “How can I help you?”
“I’m here for my new Costume.”
“Are you Midoriya?” You point at the green fabric on your desk, or rather what’s left of the costume.”
“No, I’m Todoroki Shouto.”
“Ah,” Kameko doesn’t even look guilty at being caught. “You’re with her then. Do you need the think tank?” She points at the cubicle where you can go and plan outfits.
Todoroki looks like he isn’t quite sure, so you carefully slide off your chair and shuffle over.
“Come, come,” you wave at him, “It’s never wrong to brainstorm.”
“Are you hurt?” He asks and has the decency not to point at how you clearly favor your left leg.
“Not more than usual,” you try to joke and though he looks a little confused, he doesn’t ask more questions.
.
Todoroki is a quiet individual. He’s not shy, that you perceive immediately, but he makes sure to check if he’s allowed to speak before he opens his mouth.
He’s also insanely pretty, the red, rough skin over his left eye giving him even more appeal. But he’s also one year younger than you, so you keep those thoughts locked away in the back of your head.
“If you want to change the design, we can do that, no problem.” You remind him when you’ve finally found something he seems almost happy with.
“I don’t want to cause you more work.”
“If you don’t cause me any work I’d have nothing to do,” you joke and he looks at you quietly for a while. You wonder if he’s ruminating over your joke or waiting for you to talk on and sadly, you’re more than likely to ramble in a confusing silence.
You gesture, somehow now talking about the importance of fresh orange juice for the human body, a topic you didn’t even know you could talk about beforehand when your hand connects harshly with the door behind you. Your wrist catches the doorknob and the pain is immediate, sharp and cool, like you’d imagine being stabbed with an icicle would feel like.
Todoroki hisses behind you and you’d compliment him on the empathy if it wouldn’t hurt like that.
When you turn, hand pressed against your chest, he’s cradling his own hand before dropping it. “Musclespasm,” he explains quietly, offering you a hand that is covered in ice. “Do you want me to cool it? It helps.”
-
“I’d like to add some more details to my costume,” Todoroki approaches you with a Bento Box in hand.
You nod, unable to speak for a moment as you focus your Quirk on a particularly tough seam.
“No problem, as I said. What’s it about?”
“Could we use the think tank?”
You turn to check but it’s clearly occupied.
“Sadly not. Is it more complicated then?” You nod at the Bento Box. “Do you think it will keep us occupied during lunch break?”
“No, this is…” Todoroki hesitates for a second before holding it out to you. “It’s just something I wanted to give you. My sister made these.”
You open it with curious fingers to reveal twelve perfectly shaped cookies.
“That’s lovely, but why me?”
His cheeks turn pink and his lips curl into an adorable pout before he eventually talks.
“I mentioned that I was pleased with the changes and she told me to say thank you.”
“Aww,” you coo. “Your older sister then?”
“Yes,” the pout exaggerates, “I would have said thank you without her intervening.”
“Of course you’d have.” - “But my cookies didn’t turn out good.”
You both speak at the same time, or rather you accidentally interrupted him and he still talked on.
You stare at him now, mouth agape as you process his words.
“You made cookies for me?”
“Yes,” Todoroki nods, “I wanted to say thank you.”
“It’s my job.”
“I still want to say thank you.”
“Next time,” you joke, not quite realizing what you’re saying until it has left your lips and your brain has caught on, “just bring me the Cookies you made. It’s the thought that counts.”
He stares at you with wide eyes for what feels like eternity before a soft pink blush blooms on his cheeks.
You hide your own face in the box of Cookies, hope that he won’t hear the thunderous beating of your heart over the noise of you eating one.
They’re delicious. Of course they are.
-
You don’t know how or when or even why, but clearly, there’s a friendship growing between you and Todoroki Shouto. He’s stopped claiming he’s only dropping in for new additions to his costumes and in turn you’ve tried quite a few of his food creations, each one of them worse than the last.
But he’s cute and honest and real about it and you couldn’t do better if you tried anyway.
Your pain, however, doesn’t stop just because you’ve found work you enjoy or friends to spend your time with.
There are days where you cannot get out of bed. Days where strong painkillers allow you to get to school only for everything to go past you because those painkillers leave you loopy and tired, falling asleep over some costume in the early afternoon hours.
At least you’re not in the Hero Course, you think on the worst days, because you’ve seen the bruises Training leaves on Shouto’s arms and legs.
That’s before you realize that Training is the least of all his problems.
-
Third Year
“How are you?” You ask, because what else do you ask your Crush Slash Good Friend you haven’t seen in months?
Shouto’s got new scars, he’s grown, and he’s fought in a war while you were bedridden from pain, your mother scared out of her depths that you’d die in an attack, unable to move.
But you survived and so did he and if you can believe what you’ve heard on the news, he’s found out some things about his family too.
“Tired,” he admits, dragging a hand through his hair, “I missed you.”
You wonder how hard it was for him to admit that.
“Think tank?” You ask, slipping off your chair when he nods.
The last few days have been painless and even though you’re anxious about what’s to come after that, you can’t help but enjoy it.
When the door closes after him, you realize just how small that cubicle really is.
Or maybe it’s just that Shouto doesn’t step away like he used to do, staying so close to you that you could count every single one of his long lashes if you wanted to.
“Can I hug you?” He asks and you nod, unable to say anything, even less when he pulls you in.
He’s tall and strong, cool on one side and warm on the other and your face nuzzles into his neck like it was meant to be like that anyway.
You don’t speak for a while, just hold each other in the semi-privacy this room provides.
“I want to take care of you,” Shouto whispers at some point. “Can I?”
Somehow it doesn’t surprise anyone that you two end up dating.
-
Your third year is almost painless.
Sure, there are frequent days where you’re sore for no reason whatsoever, but that is nothing against the blinding pain that had tied you to a bed for weeks before.
Sometimes, Shouto pouts about that. He thinks it’s his job as your boyfriend to look after you and what good is he for if you don’t need looking after?
His friends tell you that he’s less reckless now - as if he’d ever been - making sure to keep himself safe because you need him.
You’ve met his sister, one of his older brothers and his mother, all of them nice, though maybe a bit distanced.
Emotional vulnerability doesn’t seem to come easy to them.
Shouto, however, likes to talk about his feelings in depth. And he wants to know how you’re feeling too, listening with wide eyes as you explain.
Should it be weird that you’re dating someone younger than you? If so, you’re doing it wrong.
-
The first(?) hint
“Do we need anything from the store?” You ask, phone crammed between your ear and shoulder as you grab your stuff from the passenger seat.
“I was going to get the groceries,” Shouto huffs on the other side of the call and you can see it, how he pouts at the thought that you’re doing it instead of him.
“I was already on my way. You can do the laundry.”
“I hate doing the laundry,” he groans and you giggle. “I know. I’m going to help you with it, don’t worry.”
“I could cook,” he offers and you giggle again, opening the door to step out. “As much as I love you, Shouto, I don’t love your cooking.”
“Fine,” he says, sounding exactly like a child that didn’t get its way, “But we do face-masks while doing the laundry.”
“Of course. I’ll call you back later, okay? I need both hands for shopping.”
“Sure. I’ll buy you more headphones in the meantime.”
There are a few more teasing remarks, a last “I love you” and then you shove your phone back in your purse and turn to where you think the shopping carts are located.
You don’t see the step in front of you before it’s too late and then you’re tumbling through the air. It happens slowly and then all at once and you’re not really sure what hurt first and what hurts the most.
For a moment you’re just lying there, face down on the pavement, trying not to puke, collecting your thoughts as if they scattered on your floor just like your open purse.
Your phone starts ringing and that seems the most manageable task so you pick it up from right in front of you and press it against your ear.
“Yes?” You ask.
“Love, are you okay?” Shouto sounds worried.
“No, I just tripped and fell,” you pick your head up from the asphalt and squint at your stuff in front of you, “in the middle of the parking lot.”
“Just after you hung up I felt a lot of pain and I just… I knew it was you.”
-
It keeps happening after that.
It doesn’t help that you’re clumsy, but maybe that’s for the best now, as you try and figure out this weird coincidence.
If you hurt yourself, Shouto feels the pain.
If Shouto hurts himself, you feel the pain.
It’s only after he almost gets buried by a collapsing building that you actually tell a Doctor. Or rather Midoriya unloads all the Data he has collected on the poor, unassuming Recovery Girl.
The most likely answer, as strange as it might sound, is the Soulmate Theory.
“Since you’re the first documented case in hundreds of years we don’t have anything to prove this theory. But I’m quite positive that more cases will follow.”
You blink back at her, not quite understanding. Shouto’s left hand, one of the few places of his that are not covered in bandages, squeezes yours.
“You know what that means, right?” He asks.
“Yeah. We’re most definitely never going to break up.”
His eyes widen in a way you’ve grown familiar with. No matter how long you’ve been dating, you still seem to be able to surprise him.
“No,” he presses out weakly, “I meant… That all the pain you went through as a child and teenager, that was me. It’s my fault.”
You lean down to press a kiss to the little spot above his eyebrows that has come away unscathed.
“I’m not saying it was nice, but if I could take at least a little bit of the pain you went through, I’d say it was worth it.”
-
You’re pretty sure Shouto would disagree, but in your eyes Soulmates are not quite as fancy as they’re made out to be.
After all, you found him on your own, didn’t you?
#my writing#shouto todoroki#todoroki shouto#shouto x reader#todoroki x reader#todoroki fluff#mha x reader#mha fluff#mha#bnha x reader#bnha#bnha fluff
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Popping in here with more theories!
(Admittedly, some of these I had in a reply to another person's post, but I think they can stand on their own.)
I think Polin will end up across the street in the Featherington estate because I am pretty sure they are setting it up for Pen to have the first Featherington boy. (I am also hoping for twins with a girl first for the sheer drama of pissing off her sisters and annoying Portia because that means Colin and Pen will be straightening out the very shady Featherington estate and her power will be null & void. She could control Harry or Albion. She won't get any traction with Polin. It has also been indicated that the actress playing Prudence will not be back next season.)
That would mean we would see Polin potentially as much as Kanthony. Maybe more if it is Eloise's season since I am really hoping that Peneloise will be back up and running. I have read that the higher ups have referred to Penelope as the heart of the show. You can't remove the heart and keep moving forward at all well.
On that note, I also think that the LW reveal will be limited to the Bridgertons, the Queen, and a very small amount of other people. Losing the LW narration device is probably not something they are willing to do any time soon. Why mess with something beloved?
I also believe we are going to see at least a one year time jump if it is Eloise's season next. There has been no whisper about Marina so far, and for there to be Eloise and Phillip, there cannot be Marina. And there has to be time between Marina dying and Phillip and Eloise being together, even in a loveless marriage you cannot remarry immediately in that era. Having the twins still be so very young would eliminate a lot of Eloise's growth as a character, imho, because those kids take her on a wild ride.
It makes more sense to have Benedict go next. He is aimless this season and needs roots. The issue, though, is that facets of his story with Sophie are probably not going to make us like him much unless there are some big changes. The whole "be my mistress because you are too low born to be my wife" just gives me the full ick. If we can just get around that at the very least, I think we can move forward somewhat gracefully.
The beginning of Francesca's book could really fit in the spaces of both seasons, neatly around the edges. We know she loves John. But those of us who have read the books, we know the end destiny.
That's all I've got for now!
#polin#bridgerton#bridgerton season 3 spoilers#bridgerton spoilers#bridgerton s3 spoilers#bridgerton season 3#bridgerton s3#polin bridgerton#bridgerton 3#penelope x colin#penelope and colin#penelope bridgerton#colin x penelope#colin my wife bridgerton#colin bridgerton#queen charlotte#eloise bridgerton#francesa bridgerton#benedict bridgerton
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