#sorry this took so long uni took over my life

[lilystyles]

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part three of style, written by @lilystyles

my masterlist xx & style masterlist

authors note I AM SO SORRY IT TOOK ME SO LONG??? UR SUPPORT HAS BEEN AMAZING I LOVE U ALL SM ALL UR ASKS R SO SWEET. LOVE U LOVE LOVE U. IM SORRYYYYYY UNI SUCKS RN!!! ENJOY ANGELS <3333333

brief description niall throws the party of the century, and harry gives y/n a gift.

warnings! slight age gap, smutty (daddy kink, romantic sex, m!receiving, f!receiving, steamy, dry humping) sexual tension, drugs and alcohol abuse, fratboys. (wordcount: 11k)

fratboy!older!bffsbrother!harry x younger!innocent!reader

* * * * *

Harry Styles, for what felt like the first time ever, was jealous.

It had now become obvious to Harry, that he is definitely a jealous person when he loves someone.

Which had never happened to him until her, he’d never cared enough to be jealous. He couldn’t care less normally, and he never really understood feeling possessive. It used to turn him off so much when someone was possessive over him, he hated the idea of being tied down and suffocated. His ex-girlfriends could and did cheat him and Harry didn’t care, he was young and wanted to have fun. He didn’t blame others for enjoying themselves. He moved on without the bat of an eye, and he never held grudges over it.

Life was about feeling good, having fun, and enjoying yourself. And before Y/n that meant mindless sex, parties, and smoking in pretty girls’ beds. He knew for a lot good girls that his past would be a major turn off, he honestly didn’t remember half the people he’d shagged, but he didn’t care. Life was a bunch of fleeting moments for him.

But lately, his feelings about possessiveness were different. His feelings for Y/n were all-consuming and so strong he didn’t know what to do with himself, he felt like his world was flipped upside down. He didn’t know how to ground himself, he felt like he was floating, and so far from his feet. When it came to Y/n he cared. A lot. Too much.

He found that even the way people were looking, just looking, at her right now was enough to have him clenching the can of beer in his hand. His fist tightly squeezed around it, imagining it was the jugular of whoever was walking in her direction that wasn’t him. And despite the fact he could understand people hitting on her because seriously she was the most beautiful girl he’d ever had the pleasure of knowing, that didn’t matter to him. Y/n owned every inch of him, and he felt like he’d made it clear she was belonged ot him too.

Harry found himself watching her intensely from across the room, eyes locked directly on her pretty little perfect figure. Which was unlike him normally he was off causing mischief and getting incredibly out of his mind drunk and high. Probably get a blowie outside by the pool.

But she was so striking, and he felt like he was in a trance. She stood out from the swarm of people like the brightest star in the sky, her h/c shined under the lights catching his attention immediately when he walked into the room. Y/n just looked so fucking gorgeous, like the embodiment of beauty, and everything Harry loved was embedded in her very being. He couldn’t have ripped his eyes away even if he’d wanted to. 

If he had to describe her in one word right now, he’d say entrancing. She looked…well it took his breath away how beautiful she was. Harry always found Y/n very beautiful but tonight she looked especially scintillating. He wasn’t sure if it was her outfit or the fact his infatuation was growing by the second each day, but wow. 

He wanted her so badly.

Her face was flushed from alcohol and the heat of the room, a soft pink that was similar to the shade of her lips, and a glisten of sweat coated her from the sweltering evening, making her look like an ethereal being that Harry adored. God, she was adorable. He could see her giggling, nose scrunching and all smiley. He couldn’t hear her, but he wished he could. She had the cutest laugh known to man.

And there it was, that itchy jealousy and annoying possessiveness rolling through his veins as he watched her laugh with another boy.

His green piercing eyes fell further down her figure. Her costume was fitting. The little dress she wore was very short, so short that the bottom of her plush ass was almost peeking out of it and Harry’s thoughts turned from wholesome to not-so. He’d never seen her wear that dress before, but if he had anything to do with it she wouldn’t even be wearing one and she’d been in his bed with the flimsy material on the floor. The material of her dress was almost a second skin, the silky white material left very little to the imagination except for where it puffed out at the bottom like a tutu. Her tits were round, the perfectful mouth for him to suckle on, nipples hard and obvious pressing against the satin material.

However, her luscious legs and smooth skin were the stars of the show tonight, Harry had been lucky enough to feel those wrapped around him, so he knew how soft they were. In that dress, her legs looked so long, the sight of her made his blood rush through him faster, almost like he was high. He’d only had one beer, so he didn’t know what had made him so dazed.

Harry wouldn’t be surprised if his prick was hard in his pants, he didn’t have it in him to feel ashamed. It got like that when he smelt her perfume on his clothes after being with her all day. Y/n had an unfathomable power and control over him, that she hadn’t even known she possessed. It didn’t take make much to get him budged up like that anymore, if Y/n crossed his mind then boom, just like that his prick was begging for his fist.

Harry kept watching her protectively. A few guys were leering close by, and he didn’t like it one bit. Instead of looking at the boys, he turned his attention back to the details of her dress. The top of it had puffy short sleeves that made her look adorable, and the neckline showed her perfect tits sitting comfortably and plump. That little necklace of her initial sitting between them, it sparkled under the dim light.

He bit his lip, and the beer in his hands was no longer enough to distract him. He licked his lips and calculated how he’d get her alone with him tonight. For once, Emma was sticking to her like glue. His sister normally found a way to disappear off and get herself sickly drunk, and with some lad. They had that in common, neither ever one to mingle unless it was for a shag or a spliff.

But not right now, no Emma stayed close by her side, talking to Zayn and a guy Harry thinks is called Liam. Harry’s jaw clicked, teeth clenching as he watched Liam’s eyes linger a moment too long at Y/n’s chest. His fist clenched by his side as he tried to breathe.

Shutting his eyes only for one second to remind himself to get his lungs working. 

In.

Out.

In. 

Out.

As he repeated those two words in his mind, the only thing he could that he wanted to go in and out was his prick inside of her perfect sweet pussy. He wanted her pressed nice and close to him, he wanted to hold her, and press his cheek to her head and shut his eyes. Maybe then he’d be able to breathe normally. He certainly couldn’t from over here, and now as stood across the room he realised maybe all those girls sobbing hysterically with ice cream in their dorms over his frat brothers weren’t so crazy, and maybe those idiots who ran through airports weren’t really idiots. Just people madly, stupidly, overboard, in love.

This absolute possessive carnal caveman rage was something Harry hated because he knew it was stupid. But God the thought of anyone even looking at what was his pissed him off beyond the point of sanity. Y/n was a fucking beautiful little thing, she always had been, all innocent and soft, the kind of girl you wanted to scoop up into your arms and take care of.

And he wanted to do just that. He wanted to take care of her and keep all harm from her direction. He didn’t care if he was getting obsessive with his staring, he couldn’t stop. 

He smiled at the little furry feathered halo that sat on her head, wings decorating the soft exposed skin on her back, and glittery cheeks that sparkled like magic under the pale blue lights of the room. She looked ethereal. His real-life angel and she was dressed the part too. Little fluffy white heels decorated her feet that he was sure would look better by his shoulders as he made her melt around him like he had every intention of doing.

He really was the devil for thinking that way. But that’s who he was, and her unforgettable sweet pussy had infiltrated his mind. He smirked silently to himself because he knew despite their total differences and things that got in the way of them, the world had made them for each other. 

Moulding his hand to fit perfectly around hers. Like a sculpture with his clay, the world carved Harry just for her, and Y/n just for him. He was more sure of it than anything in the world.

Even if she didn’t know that yet, he was more than certain.

So Liam could just right fuck right off, that was his angel. Anyway, who comes as a basketball player when you already are one? How lame is that costume? Harry hadn’t worn his football clothes here and called it a costume. Even he wasn’t that bad.

Harry hadn’t tried as hard as Y/n had with his get-up. The only thing to give away his costume was the cheap plastic red horned headband hidden in his curls. He was in a pair of black jeans, and a black t-shirt, nothing special. He didn’t fancy costumes all that much. But he thought that Lucifer likely didn’t give a fuck about his outfit, at least that’s what he’d told Niall when the bloke almost didn’t let him inside due to his very shitty costume.

Y/n hadn’t noticed Harry yet, despite his icy green eyes boring into her skin for the past twenty or so minutes. He’d been lurking in a corner away from her sight. But when Emma left with Zayn to who knows or who cares where, he made his way over quicker than a blink of an eye. Liam noticed him first, and Y/n felt a warmth radiating near her back which made her spine shudder.

Must be Styles. She thought but didn’t turn, waiting for him to speak first.

“Oh hey, Mate.” Said Liam offering a wave. Liam and her had a physics class together and she was complaining to him about the professor and how she was pretty certain she was going to fail the class.

Harry’s chest pressed into her side and she finally turned, smiling up at him. A soft delicate one that made Harry’s lungs finally kick back into working like normal. Heart beating fast, as he thought to himself, oh there you are heart.

Being with Y/n was like realising he’d spent his whole life without oxygen but now he had air.

“Hi.” He said curtly to Liam, moving his eyes to Y/n’s precious ones, and he could feel Liam watching them. She really had no idea how badly every man in this room wanted her. How didn’t she notice the staring? The whispers? How did she seem so calm when she was like a baby lamb in a room full of wolves?

“Can you come and help me with something please, Trouble? Niall asked after us.” He asked leaning down close so his mouth shadowed her ear. He was lying, but he wanted her alone, and Emma wouldn’t notice. She was already incredibly drunk and he knew that because she was already dancing on a table in the dining room.

Y/n nodded squeaking out a soft sure, and she slid her palm around his bicep, thoughtlessly and instinctively. When they went off campus, and spent time together they always held each other close.

His body was so warm and welcoming, she was used to being close to him now. He brought her so much comfort, and Harry felt smug at the way Liam’s face dropped at the sight.

Yeah, suck it, stupid basketball player. He thought. Butterflies fluttering through his tummy at the feel of her hand on his arm.

Y/n hardly had a chance to wave goodbye to Liam before Harry had dragged her away hands melting into her skin. Everything with him felt so natural. Their physicalness was normal now, and she hardly noticed it as much as that first night. It felt routine and safe, and she loved it. He never did that with anyone except her, which made her heart flutter in a strange off-beat rhythm.

Despite having always been a sexual creature, he wasn’t touchy with people he slept with outside the bedroom. He wasn’t the type. But he honestly couldn’t keep his hands off Y/n.

He guided her upstairs leading her into a random room, and shutting the door behind them. It was a fairly clean room, and Y/n soon recognised it was Niall’s. She guessed by the rainbow flag hung up by his posters, and of course, the biggest sign was an Ariana Grande poster. He fancied the pants off her, and would always play her songs in the car. If they went to karaoke which sometimes they did, Niall always without a shadow of a doubt sang Ariana. Despite the fact his throat could not at all easily sing that high-pitched.

She walked over to sit on the edge of the bed, her dress riding up ever so slightly at the movement. Niall had these pale dusty blue sheets and they smelt like citrus and wood on the bed. She never came into his room, or even to the frat house because, well, it’s a frat house.

Harry walked over to her towering over her, cutting her thoughts of their best friend from her mind. His hand moved to touch her cheek, the curve of her skin was searing hot and Harry could feel her melt into his hand.

“Hi, Styles,” She whispered shyly, lips moving as slow as molasses dripping off a spoon. He knew for a fact she tasted just as sweet too.

He smirked down at her, God he wanted to just eat her right up. She was looking up at him all doe-eyed, her little hand creeping underneath his shirt. She was so cute, so fucking adorable. He could feel the gentle caress of her nails against his hip and he felt his skin pimple in goosebumps.

“Hi, Baby.” He replied, moving to sit down beside her. His large, muscled, thigh pressed into hers emitting a warmth she welcomed. Her hands fell into her lap now as she watched him through hooded eyes.

She blushed some more, “What does Niall need our help with in here?”

Harry laughed and it bellowed out, as he placed a soft hand on her knee. Her skin was soft like butter, and he rubbed her knee tenderly. She was perfect, in every sense of the bloody word. 

“Nothing, I just wanted you to myself, Trouble.”

She giggled, and it made Harry’s chest swell. He loved her. He loved her so much. 

“Oh I see,” She said, her hand landing on his. He slowly dragged his hand further up her leg and couldn’t wipe the smile off his face for the life of him.

“You look fucking beautiful, by the way,” He whispered, squeezing her thigh.

She smiled brightly, and she leaned over to smear a quick kiss on his jaw. “Aw, thanks Styles, I went all out because I knew Niall would have my ass if I didn’t dress ‘properly’.”

Harry laughed, tipping his head back. “Well, I’m certainly enjoying you like this. You look…Jesus Y/n, I mean, are you trying to kill me? You really are trouble, aren’t you gorgeous girl?”

She pouted at him leaning in closer, he could smell her perfume and shampoo so heavily now and he was intoxicated by it. Y/n smelt so good, and the scent of her grounded him. He wanted to keep her right here all night, and maybe he would if he was lucky. Y/n didn’t seem to be in a rush to leave their little bubble.

And she knew Emma was very distracted with Zayn, they were still going out. But honestly, Y/n didn’t suspect they’d last much longer, she could already sense her best friend’s restlessness. It wasn’t anything that Y/n judged, but Emma never stayed with a boy longer than a month. She used to think it was a Styles thing, but Harry hadn’t been with anyone else in months, not since that night they shared.

“Am not.” She said, faking petulance. He leaned down close enough that his lips just grazed hers, and she wanted so badly to join their lips. But she didn’t know if that was what he wanted, so she just waited.

“You so are.” He replied.

She leaned into his neck with a sigh, he smelt like always; mint, tobacco, vanilla, and something undeniably Harry. He was intoxicating and the drink she’d had made her blood rush with a want that thumped so intensely. She wanted Harry, so badly, and her control was wilting away with each second that passed.

The devil had a magic spell on the angel.

“Can I kiss you, Trouble?” He asked softly, pushing a strand of loose hair behind her ear. He noticed a pair of dangly pearl earrings and untangled the hair from them.

Y/n was amazed by how soft and gentle he was with her. She’d imagined him to be a lot cooler, icy, and most of the time he played the part brilliantly. Before that night in the kitchen, all Harry had been was a cold-hearted frat boy who she thought was sexy. Because that’s all he pretended to be around her before this.

She hadn’t known hiding underneath the cool exterior was a warmth more scorching than the sun.

She giggled at him, eyes shutting for a second, before open to see him smiling back at her. “Do you even have to ask that? Isn’t it obvious I’m dying to kiss you, Styles?”

He rolled his eyes, smirk growing even bigger. “C’mere.”

She shifted closer swinging both her legs over his lap and scooting so close their chests pressed together. She felt her heart speed up at the thought of their lips becoming one. Harry was the one to lean down and connect their lips together in a soft gentle greeting. She tasted like rum and peaches, and he sighed at the taste. He’d wanted to do that all night, and he was relieved to have finally fulfilled his wish. Her soft hands had found their way onto his cheeks, and his hand landed on her waist to keep her nice and snug against him.

It wasn’t long until the little breathy sounds she was making had him needy for her, his tummy curled in desire. And in a hurry of want, he pulled her onto his lap properly and she squealed quietly. Laughing against her lips, he smiled. Pulling away to whisper, “I missed you, so much.”

She rolled her eyes. “You saw me like an hour ago.”

She saw him before they arrived. Having got ready at Emma’s, he’d seen her before she was dressed and left for the party. He snuck a quick peck on her lips while Emma was in the shower before he left. The sneaking around was getting more bold, and Y/n knew she should tell Emma soon but she just didn’t know how. 

Plus what were they? She could hardly say ‘Hey Em been shagging your brother for a bit.’

Harry shrugged at her words. “I don’t care, I miss you the second you’re gone.”

Her lips landed on his cheek, leaving a kiss print of pink and she giggled, thumb coming up to wipe it off. 

“Oops.” She giggled.

“What, you didn’t miss me, Baby?” He whispered, tone all sultry, it made her stomach curl viciously. He seriously would be the death of her. She should’ve known from the minute she met him it would be.

“Obviously. Now kiss me like you mean all that sap,” She ordered him, and there was no need to tell him twice. He kissed her again, tongue sliding into her mouth to swirl against hers. His lips moulded perfectly into hers as his hands slid up under her dress gliding over the soft skin of her bum. The tiniest underwear she owned covered her and he felt the lace under his palm, which pulled a groan from out of him as Y/n shifted herself against his hips unconsciously. She moaned softly at the feeling of his stiff cock digging into her knickers, one of her hands balling his shirt up in her hand.

He squeezed her ass tightly and pulled back for a breath to leave kisses along her jaw and neck. Nipping at the skin below her ear, he whispered to her softly. “Such a good girl, Y/n.”

She sighed at the feeling, eyes fluttering closed and mouth open slightly. She couldn’t help it, Harry was just so warm, so inviting, that she felt herself melting against his firm chest. She’d been so needy without him, and the pep talk she’d given herself before tonight had gone out the window as soon as she’d seen him.

They hadn’t been together in so long, and she’d gotten herself off this morning but it wasn’t the same without Harry there. She’d been wishing it was him the whole time.

“You’re mouth is criminal, Styles. Could get me to do anything.” She admitted softly finger running along his bottom lip. It was all pink and wet from her mouth, and she briefly remembered the feeling of him sucking on her clit, fighting the urge to stop her eyes from rolling back into her head at the memory.

He looked up quickly, meeting her eyes. 

“Anything?” He asked mischievously. 

She shrugged leaning down to plant a quick kiss against his swollen lips, “Probably.”

He laughed at that and trapped her into another kiss. They were growing more heated and passionate, her hips grazing against him ever so slightly, as gentle moans left her mouth. Harry swallowed each sound and let her use him for friction, the dull ache in his balls subsided a little less when she did it. He honestly thought he could cum his pants from it if she just went a little bit harder, for a little bit longer.

His hands gripped her a bit harder and pushed her more firmly against him, and the feel of her warmth against him grew stronger. He guessed that by now she was probably wet, and the thought made his cock twitch. Her pussy filled his daydreams, and his mouth salivated at the thought.

She whined into his mouth and whispered a swear against him. His large hand rubbed a circle on her bum, and he decided that this must be heaven. A pretty angel with Y/n’s form was here with him, and sitting right up against his stiffy. That was his idea of heaven.

His hands hidden under the dress, smooth skin under his palms, his hand could barely feel any fabric he knew just how tiny the sorry excuse of knickers she was wearing was, and this only riled him up more. She was so fucking hot. Sexiest little thing.

As she began to grow more needy for a release the feel of his rough jeans combined with the thin lace knickers she was wearing rubbing against her clit, she thought she could cum from this. The prickling heat had started to spark up her spine and she moaned at the bulge of his cock pressing into her. He began to kiss down her neck again and along her chest, and she felt her pleasure growing in her tummy.

Suddenly feeling close, she pushed his shoulders down so that he was lying on his back, and he smirked at the way she grew more needy for it. He loved seeing her use him to get herself off, he didn’t mind letting her be in charge every once in a while. She rested her cheek against his shoulder as she moved her hips in long but hard motions. All rough, and desperate, and Harry loved to see her so riled up. God, she was so perfect. They hadn’t properly seen each other since that night after her terrible date with Peter, and he was growing tired of fisting his cock in the shower. It didn’t compare to the real deal.

Not to mention he just missed talking to her and being with her, and even if the only thing to happen tonight was for her to get off on his leg while he kissed her pretty little mouth, he’d be completely happy with that.

With Y/n he would do just about anything because, well, it was with her.

Eventually, she whispered a soft, “I’m close,” in his ear.

Harry shifted his hips to move with hers  “Cum for me angel,” He whispered into her ear. And just as she was about to cum the door swung up and her movements halted. Harry was about to shout a quick ‘fuck off’ because it was probably a drunk person looking for the loo, but the voice that met their ears wasn’t a stranger.

Oh shit.

“Y/n? Is that a- is that a Harry under you?” Asked the drunken voice of Niall. His voice was slightly slurring, and the gasp he’d let out made them know for sure who it was. 

He could see the familiar tattooed arms wrapped around her which made him immediately know it was Harry and underneath the fluffy material of her dress he saw a flash of pink knickers and that mermaid tattoo Niall actually went with him when he got done, caught his attention, as he let out a loud yelp.

Honestly, he’d never date either of them. But the bisexual side of him was slightly aroused. They were hot, and together? God. Just delicious.

Y/n winced and shut her eyes, sitting up, “Uh…no??” 

Harry laughed at her attempt to lie and she hit his chest. “Shh! Shut up, Styles!”

Niall shut the door walking inside further, uncaring of the position they were in, and the fact he could see Harry’s stiffy pressing up into Y/n’s thigh. 

“What the fuck?” He said, and they could hear the betrayal in his tone. Normally Harry told him everyone he slept with and always stayed in the loop, even if it was a simple statement like he hooked up with blah at blah he always told him. And Y/n told him everything too, mostly, or at least he thought she did.

Y/n sat up sliding off Harry who sat up, stiff cock still standing tall, and his balls aching. Sitting beside him, Y/n hung her head, like a child ready for scolding.

“We wanted to tell you, mate,” He started, lifting his hands up to run through his hair and chucking the plastic red horns onto the bed, as he shifted on the bed. 

Niall placed a hand to his chest mouth parted open like a fish. His long sheet turned toga covering very little of his muscled chest as he squeezed the flesh there. 

“I’m like so betrayed bitches, why didn’t you tell me? Did this just happen? Is this new? What on earth is going on?”

Y/n laughed at his bombard of questions, he obviously wasn’t too cross with them which relieved the tightness in her chest. 

She didn’t look at Harry when she spoke, instead playing with her fingers in her lap and fidgeting, “We haven’t told anyone…it’s well, I’m not sure exactly what is, Ni.”

Harry looked up at her statement and rolled his eyes. “I am, I fancy the fuck out of you, Trouble. We just haven’t told anyone because Emma would lose it. Remember when I got with Y/n’s old roommate that redhead I forget her name, and Emma shunned her from the group?”

Niall nodded, mulling things over. “Right, yeah. She wasn’t happy about that. Which is sad, I liked that girl, great tits.”

Y/n rolled her eyes and wanted to laugh, clearly, they didn’t like her that much if they couldn’t remember her name.

Y/n stood up. “Ni, I know you’re in shock and offended we didn’t tell you. Which is so fair, but Em doesn’t know yet, and she will kill me. Seriously murder me, especially if she finds out from someone who isn’t me. So you can’t tell a soul.”

He looked down at her and nodded. “Of course, I won’t tell anyone, just Benny.”

Benny was his cat, a fat ginger tabby, who was an old thing that Y/n found hiding behind his car one afternoon. Turns out he was abandoned, back then he’d been a thin little thing, but now Niall fed him up probably too much.

Y/n hugged him, and Niall’s hands slid down to her waist. “Thank you, mate,”

He just nodded, and let out a breath.

“Okay, I’m gonna grab some spliff from in here,” He rustled around, “then you can get back to it. Just don’t spunk all over my bed kids, and if you need a cum rag still one from next door, Jimbo keeps stealing my spliff so,” He said walking over to his shelf and grabbing a tin box full of weed, and his monkey bong from beside his telly.

He shut the door with a hushed bye, and then Y/n finally looked at Harry to see he was already staring up at her from his seat on the edge of the bed. Still standing up, anxiety fluttering her tummy.

“So you fancy me, huh?” She said teasingly with a smile, her lipstick was smudged and he could taste her peach-flavoured lipgloss on his lips still, he licked them in thought.

They hadn’t really discussed much about their relationship. But she was fairly certain he liked her. And she could tell he got jealous, that was obvious. But the sudden change from being the brooding older brother of her best friend, who constantly treated her like a ghost, and teased her about her behaviour to this. This intense, honest, and obsessed boy. It was like whiplash.

All those years? What had changed him in these few weeks?

She would probably always fancy him even if nothing ever comes from this, a piece of her will always belong to him, does he know that? She always felt like she was more transparent than he was.

But right now, just his eyes were a giveaway of his feelings. 

The normally stoic, and cold, gaze was suddenly soft and molten. Even though only a few minutes before they’d been seconds away from getting off and kissing, now it was a soft cosy little bubble.

She was suddenly overwhelmed with a memory. When she was a kid and she’d go to her grandparent’s house she’d find herself sitting in their attic, which they’d turned a library nook which had a big window seat that caused the carpet to get all sun-soaked around noon and she’d flick through dozens of photo albums of her grandparents. The couple had grown up together as neighbours, and been in love since they were five years old.

Her grandparents were still so in love to this day, and her grandma always said you can tell by someone’s eyes if their feelings are true. Y/n’s grandfather’s eyes never turned hard around his wife, and Y/n always took notice. The strong, tall, soldier, was an absoloute sap for her.

Y/n had always hoped one day, she would find a love timeless and comfortable like theirs. Which is probably why she’d never gotten into many casual things, and was against that, she just always hoped one day Harry’s eyes would be like that but now that it was happening she almost couldn’t believe it.

Can people lie with their eyes like they can with their mouth? Can Harry?

He nodded. “Isn’t that very obvious, gorgeous?”

She sat down next to him, and she could feel the steamy moment blossoming into something more intimate and soft. She shrugged and looked down at the hands on his lap, and said nervously, “I don’t know,”

He pouted and slid his hand onto her knee. “We can’t have that,”

She looked up at him, her confidence melting away. She felt fourteen all over again, watching Harry pine over other girls and crying when she got home that he didn’t fancy her. Trying to dress more maturely and act like the girls he’d fancied the next day only to go unnoticed. Praying the red bikini she bought that was pretty skimpy for fifteen would catch his gaze when they had a pool party, only for him to makeout with some girl in front of her.

She could admit her crush on him was embarrassing to look back on, but when she got older a few years down the track she’d grown to accept it wasn’t supposed to be and decided she wouldn’t try to change to be perfect for him. Because in reality that isn’t what Harry went for anyway.

She couldn’t help but feel fourteen and insecure again. Why did he all of a sudden feel into her? 

“Well, y’cant blame me. You hook up with a lot of girls H, and that’s okay, but you know I’m not very experienced. I just- I like you. I always have. But what makes what we are doing different from Jenny, the redheaded roommate from first year.” She said, and his eyes pinched with a prickle of sadness.

He had no idea Y/n still felt this way, after the past few weeks he was certain she’d always secretly known how much he liked her. He thought his affection for her was so bloody obvious but clearly she’d never picked up on that.

He sighed, “I used to get with a lot of people, Trouble. Used to, I don’t want too anymore. Not after the night we shared.” He started, licking his lips and leaning closer. “And you are different from everyone I’ve ever slept with because I actually want more than that…I love having sex with you, Princess, but I also love talking to you, I love being with you, and you are the most lovely person I have ever met.”

Y/n felt the air disappear from her lungs. “You’re special, and I wish I would’ve done something about it sooner instead of wasting our time.”

She smiled, one that hurt her cheeks. She felt them grow rosy as he continued talking. 

“And fuck, you drive me crazy. But I miss you the minute you leave, and you are the only person I have ever wanted. Even when were kids. I don’t know how you never noticed, Y/n, but it’s probably because I’m such a tit sometimes. I never made things easy on you, and I’m sorry.”

The validation and shock were overwhelming to Y/n. 

Her heart practically stopped.

He’d liked her too? 

Oh my god. Oh my god. Oh my god. 

Her heart skipped a few beats in her chest, and she felt herself trying to process his confession. 

He’d liked her too? All this time he’d liked her too? What the fuck.

“I may have always been a total dick, but I’ve always fancied you. Ever since I could remember. If Emma wasn’t an issue I would already have told everyone that I fancy the fuck out of you, including you.” He said, lifting a finger to tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear, “I would’ve tried to get with you years ago, but the idea of not having you at all was what stopped me.”

He paused, swallowing as he watched her stay silent, and listen. “If I could change the way we started this I would’ve done it properly. Asked you out somewhere nice, worn my best, all of it. But I didn’t expect for us to happen.”

He sighed, “And I didn’t want to have to make you choose between me or her, like I know Em will probably make you, and I’ve been selfish letting myself have you these past few months. But fuck, I just have no control when it comes to you,”

Y/n blinked slowly. Because holy fuck. He liked her back, he always had, and he would’ve been with her sooner if not for the obstacle of her best friend. She couldn’t believe it. She really was sure she must be dreaming and had to stop herself from pinching her skin.

Her lips curved in a smirk, and she put her hand on his hand that was resting on her knee and said. “So, what exactly does that make us, Styles?”

He smiled and for what felt like the first Y/n thought Harry looked nervous. He lifted his free hand to scratch the back of his neck, cheeks dusted in a rosy hue as he tried to get the words out.

“If you’ll have me, I’m yours.”

She giggled and he felt nervous while he waited for her response. 

“Mine?” She asked, liking the way it rolled off her tongue, her long lashes fluttering as she looked up at him.

He nodded once again, and she leaned close nose brushing his, and kissed him. As a soft ‘okay’ slipped past her lips he wrapped his arms around her back and smiled pulling apart from her lips for just a moment. 

Excitement rushed through him, as his heart raced. She was looking right back at him, and he felt blissfully happy.

“Okay?!” He asked, unable to hide his relief and surprise.

She laughed tossing her head back, “Yes, Styles.”

He pulled her into a tight hug and she couldn’t stop smiling against his chest, he smelled so good. When he pulled her back at arm’s length once more he looked at her, eyes scanning the plane of her beautiful face. The dim lighting didn’t offer much but he already had every detail of her face memorised. 

“Y’do know this makes you my girlfriend, right?” He said, once again checking she knew what she’d just agreed to.

She nodded laughing, and sliding her hands up under his shirt by his hips. “Yes, I’m aware, boyfriend.”

This made him kiss her again and her hands moved to his back as he rolled them over, his chest pressing into her as she melted into the plush bed. He kissed her desperately, leaving them both no chance to breathe. As her legs split open for him to rest on top of her, she felt something hard press into her. Not his prick, no it was in his pocket, how come she hadn’t noticed before when she was sitting on him? 

She touched it with her hand, and Harry took notice, pulling back gently as his ragged breath fanned her flushed face. 

“Sorry, Trouble.” He whispered breathily, as he dug around in his pocket, sitting up on his knees as Y/n leaned back on her arms watching him.

In his hand was a little black box, it was velvet and she wondered what on earth he had in there. She frowned, eyebrows pinching confusedly, as she watched him hesitate to open it or explain.

Rather than speaking, he opened the box finding inside a sparkling gold necklace. It glittered under the fairy lights Niall had on his headboard. She squinted sitting up straighter, slightly dizzy from it all.

A soft giggle erupted from her lips, and she felt her smile grow wider. Her dainty hand reached out to graze it.

This boy really was full of surprises. “I just- I thought we’d talk tonight so….”

A little golden H on a chain glittered the box, and she felt eagerness bubble in her tummy. Flowing through her veins, as she smirked at him, and bit her lip, “I thought you were joking when you said all those things.”

That night after he’d picked her up from that horrible blind date, and they’d shared a long night together. She thought his jealousy, and possessiveness was laced into his sexual fantasies. Not real jealousy. Because since when was Harry one to care about anything when it came to girls, other than getting his cock wet?

He only smiled, a wicked look coming across his features, God, he really was so bloody devilishly handsome. 

“I don’t joke about what belongs to me, Y/n,” His voice drawled softly, and her stomach curled. The way he was looking at her was enough to rile her up all over again. 

She moved one of her hands to slide up along his arm, her pink long nails scratching the inked skin softly as she lifted his wrist to her chest and pressed a kiss on his knuckles softly. His breath hitched at the sight of her. 

She was so adorable. 

Y/n gradually brought his palm to her neck, and his fingers gently slid around her throat and she bit her lip. 

“Take this off,” She sighed.

He knew she was referring to her initial around her neck, and his cock twitched. Fuck, for an innocent little angel, she knew his game.

His fingers found the clasp and took the necklace off. It was dainty in his hands and what she did next surprised him. Grabbing the necklace from his palm she sat up a bit more on the bed and slid it around his neck, the chain was still warm from her neck, but he shivered as she touched him anyway.

She clasped it on, and it dangled alongside the cross his mother had given him. It was so dainty, you’d hardly notice it. She liked the idea of her initial constantly hanging there beside the cross. He never took the cross off, not even in the shower. Her finger lined them up perfectly, the cross was slightly longer and she made sure they weren’t tangled.

He leaned down now, almost face to face.

“Now everyone gets t’know what’s mine too, don’t they, Harry?” She whispered and licked her lips at the way the chains dangled down near her forehead.

He smirked down at her, dimples popping. “Yes, Angel, they do.” 

She grabbed the necklace from the box and handed it to him. “Put mine on, Styles.”

He obeyed and put the necklace on, the cool chain made goosebumps pimple her skin. It dipped just above the swell of her tits, and he smiled at the sight. His perfect little angel, marked under his name.

“Gorgeous little thing.” He whispered and put the box on the bedside table.

Y/n grabbed his shoulders bringing him back down, he captured her lips against his and they kissed. It was all tongues, teeth, and a mess of noses bumping each other. A feverish kiss, full of a searing heat that had been waiting to burst for a few weeks now.

Y/n’s soft legs wrapped around him, the heels of her shoes digging into his bum as she pressed her heat closer to his once again stiff prick, as he moved his mouth down along her jaw and neck. Slowly spreading his kisses to her chest, and once he got to the H necklace he smirked to himself. He had to be dreaming.

His hands found the zipper of her dress and began to tug the fluffy sleeves down, which revealed her bare chest. Her nipples hardened as his hands grazed them, rough and calloused fingers teasing her nipples, and he moaned, at the feel of her, before latching his lips around one of them.

His filthy, fast, searing hot tongue glided along her. He looked up to see her reaction and the breathless, blushed face made him jut his hips into the bed. God, he wanted her.

“Naughty lil’ thing,” He whispered, looking up at her as he began to leave marks along her chest. Her hands fell to his hair and tugged on the mess of curls, playing with the hair distractedly. 

“Tiny knickers, no bra, all for who, Baby?” He tsked her, looking up to see her expressions but her eyes had shut, and she was sighing softly. She looked off in her own world.

“You,” She keened, eyes opening only to find that green already staring right back at her.

He smiled at that and planted another kiss on her lips before moving down the bed, shifting so that he was kneeling on the floor as he tugged up the fluffy skirt hem, and put his face between her thighs. Kissing, sucking, and nipping on her soft skin. She moaned at the feeling of him, and the drink she’d had made her loose-lipped and slightly louder than she normally would be in a bedroom at a party hiding from her best mate.

She knew they shouldn’t be doing this, but they were together now, she could hardly leave this conversation without celebrating.

His nose brushed against her knickers, and her hips jolted up in his face. He smirked against her and his big, strong, ring-covered hands pushed her hips flat on the bed as he looked up at her. “That’s right, Trouble, all f’me. Only f’me. Sucha’ good girl.”

One of his hands moved to her knickers and pushed the thin string aside, revealing her gorgeous dripping pussy. His mouth practically watered at the sight, ever since the night he had a chance to taste her it was something that had overtaken his fantasies when he fisted his cock, he loved being between her legs and it was all he could think about most nights before bed.

When he began kissing her clit, she knew it was going to be hard to pull him away. His tongue darted out along into her hole, and he started licking into her desperately, as her legs fell over his shoulders and she let out a soft cry.

“Mm, fuck, Daddy,” She moaned, and her hands fell into his hair as she began to tug on it in gratitude. Her long nails scratched his scalp, and he moaned against her clit causing her legs to squeeze against his head in pleasure.

One of his hands moved up to her thigh and he pushed it backward, giving him a better view of her. With his other hand, he moved his fingers up to her lips and tapped against her bottom lip. She knew he wanted her to suck on them, and did so happily. They muffled her moans as he continued hungrily licking up all the slick dripping out of her needy little pussy.

He could feel her tongue swirling around his fingers and his cock jealously throbbed in his pants. He was happy with how dripping in her saliva his fingers had become and he brought his hand back down to join his tongue. With his middle finger, he slowly started teasing her weeping hole, and she let out a harsh cry. 

“Please,” She begged desperately and tugged on his hair.

He pulled back, lips covered in slick all plump and pink. “I know, Princess, I know,”

And just like that his fingers slipped inside her, filling her up so that she felt nice and snug with him. His lips moved to her clit and he began sucking firmly, this caused her spine to spark with the familiar feeling of her orgasm rising. Her tummy was rolling in waves of pleasure, and her clit was throbbing against his warm wet tongue.

“Daddy, fuck,” She cried, and each breath she let out was a whimper. All desperate, as she clawed his arms and hair, so ready for him to be inside her. So ready to cum. So close.

She felt so fucking good. His mouth was like heaven and she felt the high she’d been chasing for weeks close enough that she could almost taste it. The way he was lapping her pussy up like a hungry feral animal. His fingers were long and thick, but nothing compared to his gorgeous prick. They were curling inside her and she could feel him hitting that spongy spot that made her toes curl. 

He noticed her thighs begin to shake and the especially loud gasp she let out when he hit that spot. Continuing his merciless and hard pace he was certain she’d be coming undone soon. His tongue sped up, growing more sloppy and hungry for her orgasm to melt onto his tongue. His free hand squeezed the soft flesh of her thigh, as it shook uncontrollably underneath. 

The animalistic needy way he was licking into her was almost like a beast and its prey. He’d lost all sense of his surroundings, where he was, and what was happening outside of this room, all his focus was on Y/n. Her sweet, tangy, taste, the sounds of her whimpers which went straight to his throbbing cock, and the feel of her skin under his hands, the slick coating his tongue.

Her.

When Y/n came for him, it wasn’t gentle and quiet like they’d planned. No, her hands clawed at the soft cotton bedsheets as her back arched up uncontrollably. A loud long cry of Harry’s name fell from her swollen lips, as her pussy throbbed and waves of pleasure washed over her. Her body shuddered and his tongue hadn’t stopped until he’d licked up all the slick off her, and she pushed his head back with a shiver.

“Sensitive,” She whispered.

He smiled at her. “You’re so fucking beautiful,”

She blushed, and pulled him up closer to her, trapping him in a long loving kiss. She could taste herself on his lips but didn’t have it in herself to care. His hands caressed the curve of her body as she rolled on top of him. 

His firm cock was digging into her hip as she kissed him, in no particular hurry at all, and her hand found its way to his jean button. Popping it open and sliding her small, warm, hand into his briefs. She could feel how hard he was and pulled him out. He sprung up against his tummy, and Y/n began to stroke him softly and slowly. The reddened tip of his cock was drooling in beads of precum.

Her lips still smearing against his, as his tummy curled in desire. The sleeves of her dress had fallen down, and she looked all messy from having cum just a few seconds before. She was so beautiful.

As she moved down the bed. Her legs bracketed his and she rested her cheek on his hip bone, lips pouty as she looked up at him. Her hand was still holding the base of him, as smiled. A shadow of him cast over her innocent looking face.

“You have sucha’ pretty cock, Daddy,” She whispered, eyes mesmerised by the sight. And she wasn’t lying, he really did have such a pretty cock. The prettiest.

“All yours, Princess,” He said softly, and despite the fact his hard massive prick was out, the way he spoke was so tender and gentle.

“Can I suck you off?”

He nodded. “Course y’can, Angel, go ahead.”

She rested between his legs with her bum arched up as she leaned down to swallow him in her mouth. Her saliva dripped down along his shaft, as he watched her take him in her mouth. He hardly fit, so she used her hands too, and each time she dared to go deeper her throat gagged around him. Coughing and spluttering, as she attempted to suck him off.

She tried for a few more minutes, unable to get the fast deep pace she wanted. Harry wanted to laugh at her attempts, she was so adorable trying to fit his huge cock inside her little mouth. He didn’t mind watching her pathetic attempts to deep-throat him.

She pulled off for a second, a string of drool connecting them, “Can y’help me make it fit, Daddy?”

He nodded, hand coming to stroke her cheek, “Just tap my thigh if it’s too much, Baby,”

She nodded before moving back down to wrap her lips around a third of him, she could feel his tip hitting her throat already. Her slick spit had dripped all the way down to his balls and her free hand moved to gently massage them.

He moaned. “Fuck, good girl,”

His hips slowly moved up into her mouth, and she choked on him without pulling away, his pace began to become more regular as she let him fuck her mouth.

“Daddy’s good girl, aren’t you?”

She made a noise his cock, and he just pushed himself deeper, hands moving to hold her hair in a loose ponytail in his fist, “What was that, sweet girl?”

He teased, as she tried to mumble a yes, despite the fact her mouth was stuffed full of him. He laughed sadistically, tossing his head back as he let out a deep rumble of a groan.

His hips speed up desperately as he feels orgasm feels closer. “So fuckin’ good, Y/n, fuck,”

Her hands massaging his balls, and the base of his cock that couldn’t fit, along with her warm, wet, hot, little throat made Harry certain he’d only last a few more minutes. His rhythm grew more sloppy, as he watched Y/n take him. Her eyes were crying with tears from his rough pace, and she was squeezing her thighs together at the noises he was making.

His cock disappearing into her, was enough to have him hissing and whimpering. “Oh, fuck, baby, you’re gonna make me cum, such a good girl f’me.”

He pushed her head down a few more times, listening to the way her mouth made sloppy noises around him, and he let out a deep guttural moan as he felt his cum start to leak out into her throat. His throat rumbled gravelly moans as his hips lifted up into her throat. Holding her head there to take all of his cum, before finally pulling her off. 

She let in some deep ragged breaths, mascara running down her face, and his cum dribbling from her chin. There had been so much of it, that she was almost jealous he hadn’t spilled it inside her. She shut her eyes and let her lungs finally have some air again. She’d gotten dizzy around him.

Her tongue darted out to collect the cum that had split, as she drooped to rest her head against his thigh again. His hands moved to her back and rubbed some soft scratches along her shoulder blades.

“You okay, Trouble?”

She nodded looking up with her glassy eyes, and glossy-coated lips, “Did I do alright, Styles?”

His brows pinched and he shook his head at her question, grabbing her so they were face to face, “You are the most beautiful girl in the world, and your mouth, was made for my cock,”

She sat up and pulled him in for a kiss. A soft one, slow, and comfortable. As he rubbed her exposed skin. She was so warm, silky, and supple under his palms. He wished to stay like this always.

He eventually turned her so that she was on her side, one of his legs between her two plump thighs, and they continued to kiss. His kisses travelled to her shoulder and neck as she played with his hair.

She whispered softly in his hair, which smelt like his shampoo, a chestnut-scented one. “I want you, Harry, please,”

And if Harry thought he’d been really needy before, he was sorely mistaken, because seeing his messy-looking girlfriend begging for him to fuck her, had him only thinking of him stuffing her full until she cums for him, over and over and over. His cock had already hardened once more and he rolled on top of her.

“Okay, my love,” He said softly, as he kissed her forehead, lips meeting again in a kiss.

Her soft hands moved up under his shirt squeezing his hips, soon tugging on the hem until Harry realised she wanted it off. They parted their lips breathlessly as he pulled the shirt up over him, muscles flexing as he threw it somewhere they didn’t care to look. She smirked against the curve of his shoulder as he moved back on top of her, and her hands stroked the rippling muscles of his skin, finding a home on his back. 

They were too desperate to get all their clothes off, but Harry had tugged down the top of her dress, fluffy sleeves hanging on her arms lopsidedly, revealing her beautiful chest which had marks already blooming from his previous bites, and he’d bunched her dress up around her hips. The plumes of the skirt of her dress hid her wet little pussy from them both, but he could feel her. He slipped his hand down between her thighs and shoved the thin string that was her knickers to the side so he could slip his prick inside of her with ease.

He looked up at her. She was biting her lip, eyes shut, a look of complete desire on her face. Waiting for him.

“You okay, Trouble? Ready f’me?” He asked her, the tip of him teasing her. Pressing into her swollen clit as her hips squirmed at the attention of him. She was about ready to cry over how much she wanted it.

“Yes, please, Daddy, want you.” She said in a desperate tone, she almost looked in pain over it. He leaned down to kiss her temple before he slowly guided himself inside her. Inch by inch she felt herself split open for him, a familiar sting washing over her like always because of his absolutely ridiculously large prick.

When he reached the hilt of her and had stuffed her as full as he could he leaned back down, arms hugging her close to him, chests pressing together as his head fell into the crook of her shoulder. Her arms had moved to his back, long nails already digging into his skin. 

“Fuck,” He whispered. As she moaned at the feeling of him. A soft cry, that had his balls aching for release.

She was breathless from the feeling of being full of him. 

When she eventually told him he could move he began to, at a hard but slow pace. Each thrust hit her so hard she let out the loudest noise she ever had. Her pouty lips formed an O shape as she clung to him tightly, trying to stay still despite how sensitive she felt. He was groaning against her shoulder and neck, and the tightness of her pussy had him shaking. She was so warm, and tight, and god. So perfect.

Her mouth was by his arm and she kissed the soft skin, as he began to speed up. The pair of them both getting more and more desperate for their release. She could tell because his thrusts were growing more sloppy, and less calculated. Her hand slid between where they joined, and she began to rub firm lazy circles on her swollen bud. It wasn’t long before she unravelled on his cock, he could feel the way she squeezed him, and soaked his prick, as she cried out his name. 

“M’cumming, H, please,” She didn’t know what exactly it was she was begging for. But he seemed too.

He kissed her lips, a gentle peck, “I know, Baby, let me take care of you,” He whimpered, he was trying to help her through it without cumming himself.

Her nails scratched into his back, harshly, as he hissed in pain and pleasure. She nodded, letting him help her through the intense feeling of her orgasm. His cock was so deep, she felt like she wanted to cry. 

“Thas’ it, m’love, such a pretty little angel, f’me,” He praised as she squirted on his cock.

When the peak of her orgasm subsided, she noticed Harry’s thrusts grow uneven and she helped him by rolling her hips to meet his.

She looked so spent, and her eyes opened to watch him as he came undone, lip caught between her teeth. 

Those eyes are what did it for him. He came, hard, and fast. Hot cum shooting up inside her, as he flopped down with a guttural, deep, moan of her name. Whispering sweet nothings as he let himself fill her up with his release. Balls twitching, while his hot breath raggedly hit her neck.

“S’fuckin’ good,” He said, kissing her lips. “My perfect girl,”

She kissed back tiredly. Just as they were about to kiss even more deeply the shrill sound of Y/n’s phone ringing erupted in the room. Fleetwood Mac was her ringtone and Y/n pulled back to see who it was. 

Incoming call from Em💛🌻 lit up Y/n’s screen and a photo of Emma from primary school was the picture. She looked so cute and ridiculous in it.

Y/n now noticed about five messages from her. And Harry noticed her stiffen, pulling out of her to sit up and, she winced at the feeling. Suddenly empty of him, and wishing he’d stayed a little longer.

Harry tried not to notice the way his cum leaked out of her, but it made his cock twitch, he walked around Niall’s room until he found some tissues. Coming over and gently wiping her up, while Y/n replied to Emma’s text.

Her pussy was sore, and swollen, from pleasure. As he cleaned her up, she flinched. 

He leaned down to kiss her forehead. “Sorry, Trouble, I’ll try n’ be gentle.”

Once he’d gotten her all cleaned up they sat up and fixed her outfit. Pulling the straps back up over her shoulders, and her fluffy tule down, the sticky knickers covered in their cum made their way off her. His rough hands remained soft on her hips as he slid them off.

“What are you doing, Styles?” She asked eyes wide, and doe-eyed. Suddenly all innocent again, like she hadn’t just squirted all over his cock in someone else’s bed.

“Can’t have you all sticky can I? Don’t worry I’ll hold onto them.” He said sliding them into his front pocket. The pale pink lace bunched up in a tiny ball, not sticking out. All tucked away, their filthy little secret.

She blushed a rosy hue and was about to protest but he kissed her and grabbed her hand to sit her up, pulling her by her wrists to stand up with him. Tugging the hem of her dress down so she was covered, as hunted around the room for his own clothes. Quickly tidying himself up and finding the devil horns that Y/n had thrown out of his hair at some point, before stealing one last kiss from her.

It was deep and slow, tongues melting together, as he moaned softly against her, his hands hugging her body nice and close to his. He felt weird having sex and going back downstairs so quickly, he was so used to cuddling with Y/n now, but he was sure she felt okay and he tried to assure her.

 “Go find Em, I’ll find you in a bit, okay? Don’t go anywhere, Trouble,” He said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ears and placing one final kiss on her forehead before letting her go.

Her face hurt from smiling so much, and she turned to leave, but just as she was about to open the door she turned back around and ran over to him to quickly place a kiss on his cheek. He smiled at her, god, she was cute.

And watched as she disappeared back outside into the real world, sighing to himself. He took a moment to sit down on the bed, taking in deep breaths as he beat himself up silently. He was partly celebrating in his head because holy shit, Y/n was his girl now, officially, she’d signed her name on the dotted line with the devil, handing over her precious angel soul. His initial hung around her neck, a silent show. 

But he did wish he could’ve told her he loved her. Because god, did he love that girl, his chest physically hurt to be apart from her, it ached. He never felt that way about anyone before. Y/n is home, Y/n is happiness, Y/n is his childhood, and Y/n is his first and only love.

He should tell her. He silently decided to work up the courage soon, when the moment felt right. When neither of them had been drinking.

As Y/n walked down the stairs in search of her decidedly drunken best friend she sighed quietly, hoping the sex she’d just had didn’t wear on her face, praying her cheeks weren’t flushed in a show of how besotten she was for Harry. 

Y/n’s legs were stiff, and her pussy was still coming down from the high Harry had given her before. She was sore, his cock was still too big for her, and as she walked she tried not to let on how much he’d ruined her. 

Finally spotting her best friend with tears standing by the kitchen she rushed over. Emma began to bombard her with questions but Y/n just shrugged saying she bumped into some people from her Pysch class. 

Emma was far too inebriated to notice the stutter and lie and pulled her to the kitchen to do a few shots. By the time they’d done their third Niall pulled them over into an intense game of beer-pong which surprise surprise they both sucked at, resulting in them drinking a lot of stale-tasting beer. After their harsh loss, they floated over to the dancefloor, which was just the living room. Niall was playing some good music tonight, as per usual, and Y/n felt happy as the two girls melted together in a huge mess of limbs and dancing. 

She swayed her hips, ass pressed against Emma who had wrapped her arms around Y/n’s neck and shoulders. They were both very drunk now, the shots they’d done catching up to them, and the intense game of beer-pong Niall had roped them into had Y/n stumbling.

The house music that was playing made her feel even more off her face as she let her eyes flutter shut. Emma’s hands crept over to his hips and Y/n began to grind against her. They always danced pretty sexually together, and Y/n felt safe in her arms, she’d rather shake her ass against her best friend than some random frat guy.

And if she had to settle for the other Styles she didn’t mind, but she would rather be dancing against Harry. Who she’d lost, she didn’t know where he had gone now. But she let those thoughts drift away as Emma spun her around and they melted into a hug.

Singing to the song as it came to an end, Y/n lifted her head to look at Emma’s pretty face.

“I love you,” She slurred, obviously drunk. She also thinks Zayn and her had maybe spliffed up a bit. Because Emma’s eyes were red and she looked more out of it than normal.

Y/n smiled. “Love you too, Em.”

“I’m gonna go find Zayn, will you be okay?” She asked. 

Y/n nodded, “Yeah, go find him. I’ll go see if Niall is anywhere.”

Emma leaned over planting a peck on her lips, which wasn’t unusual for her, and left. Y/n sighed and instead of finding Niall, she found her body continuing to move along to the rhythm of the song. Her eyes shut once more as she raised her hands and danced her heart out.

She sang along to the song and pretended she was off in a magical land on her own. Time felt like it had slowed. As the song drew to the beat drop she felt a pair of hands slide on her hips and she spun around, uncomfortable at the thought of some strange man grabbing her.

But it wasn’t a strange man, no, it was Niall. She laughed. “Nialler!”

Her hands fell to his shoulders and she began to dance with him. Niall was a notorious flirt across campus, he was bisexual and that meant no one was safe from his constant flirting. And even though Niall had a boyfriend, and wow, now technically she did too they danced like two single people ready to leave together.

His hands melted to her hips and she leaned her chest into his. They jumped and swayed and they were both drunk and on a different planet almost. When she felt another pair of hands melt onto her waist and a warm back press into her she turned to look over her shoulder, it was Harry. 

She leaned into his back her bum pressing against his crotch as she felt his hands firmly stay on her hip bones while Niall’s stayed around her waist. Sandwiched between the two very attractive men had her wanting to laugh.

She giggled, and they both did too. Her head fell back to rest against Harry’s shoulder as they continued vibing along with the song. After a few songs, which flew by in the blink of an eye Paddy wandered over and whisked Niall away who left with an eyebrow raise and from the looks of it they were about to go blowie and make up.

As Y/n turned to face her boyfriend she sighed. Her boyfriend. She had one of those! 

She leaned forward to plant a quick peck on his lips. 

“Take me home, Styles?”

So he did.

love u thanks for ur patience more soon - L xxxx

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[mari-the-bimbo]

hi! could you please do something related w/ rich!geto please? idk like being childhood besties with him and how their relationship (meaning from bff to lovers) would blossom after he becomes heir of the company,, have a nice one i love your writing <3

Rich bf! Geto

A/N: STOPPPP this is such a cute idea I love it! 😮‍💨💗 also this finally pushed me out my comfort zone since I’m always writing 20 chapter long slow burns instead of writing it in one 🤣

You guys became friends when you were 13-14. Awkward teens who spotted each other on the way to school. Geto saw you shoving 2-3 chicken nuggets in your mouth while running to school. It was hilarious in his eyes. To satisfy his curiosity of you, he offered you a ride on his bike, which you easily agreed to, but in return the raven haired boy started to call you ‘chicken nugget’. And since then you were attached to the hip.

You were Geto’s sweetheart, his dearest friend. The slightly strange but sweet girl who he didn’t miss a chance to hang out with, whether it was sneaking your cowardly ass out of class, or giving you a ride home.

And even as you both grew up, and hit puberty, the affection only grew stronger. But now there were butterflies that would grow when your eyes would meet. Or when he’d catch a glimpse of your cute smile, or when your eyes would land on his broad chest when he pulled you for a hug.

Geto always knew he had feelings for his favourite chicken nugget girl, but he didn’t believe he deserves you.

“Bro what do you mean you don’t deserve her? She wants you too bro, trust me” Gojo would reassure him, but that’s because he didn’t understand. Nobody understood how perfect you were, and how he didn’t want to fall short of being perfect for you.

And so at night, while staring at a picture he took with you from a tacky photo booth, he’d promise to make you his girlfriend that day he graduates and takes over his dad’s company. The day he is rich and powerful enough to give you the world.

And so the raven haired man continued life, knowing his ulterior motive. Mastering his degree, shadowing his father at the firm, making connections.

But he’d also watch you continue life too, slightly different to his. He’d scroll through your Instagram, watching your average life with some average nameless men.

It didn’t affect him though, you could post with as many of these basic, nameless men, but he already knew you were each other’s endgame. Till fate brings you back to him, he’ll wait through your phases.

And one day, fate was delivered.

Geto: hey, sorry to hear about your breakup nugget

Your eyes widened like saucers. It’d been a while since you spoke to your first love, Geto. Sometimes you’d imagine if life would be different if you were brave enough to confess to him. You wish you didn’t simply hold hope to the words he uttered the day he moved away for uni.

‘One day, I’ll come back for you’

His voice was so soft, and his smile so sweet, yet it seemed like a distant dream now.

You cant help but laugh at the nickname he kept for you dearly ever since you were kids.

‘Thanks’ you reply casually. Not expecting his following text.

Geto: I’m back in town soon. You free to meet up doll?

At a rooftop cafe, as the sun set, the newly appointed CEO held your hands dearly, whispered sweet nothings and made confessions of love.

And the rest was history.

It wasn’t long until Geto convinced you to move into his penthouse. Holding your hand is he guided you through the luxurious place.

Placing his chin on your shoulder, “this is your home now doll” he says.

Being the girlfriend of the rich heir Geto was peaceful. You’re his pretty angel that he loves to spoil, he never wants you to be sad or deprived of anything, especially since he’s now a millionaire.

He loves taking you to buy luxurious dresses, but he always wants you to wear it again once you’re home. With a tilt of his head and a sly smile, he’ll shamelessly encourage you to change in front of him, eyes like a hawk as he seats himself on a chair watching you undress, softly muttering dirty thoughts, making you flustered as you change.

Even as he completes paperwork at night, you’re seated on his lap. His large hand caressing your thigh, sometimes slipping his hand underneath your silk night dress to make you blush.

He’ll also occasionally look away from the work to appreciate your sleepy face, smiling before encouraging you to sleep on his lap, nudging your head onto his shoulder, kissing and cooing you enough to fall asleep in his warm muscular arms.

“Goodnight angel”

#geto x reader #jjk geto x reader #geto x y/n #geto x you #geto suguru x y/n #geto suguru x reader #jjk x reader #jjk x y/n #jjk x you #jjk fluff #jjk smut #jjk fanfic #jjk imagines #jjk hcs #jjk headcanons #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x y/n #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen hcs #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen geto #jjk geto suguru #jjk geto #geto smut #geto fluff #geto suguru #geto suguru fic #geto suguru fluff #geto suguru smut

[tomhollandisabae]

lonely- simon "ghost" riley x f!reader

masterlist

fandom; call of duty

summary; after simon had left for his next mission, you were faced with the biggest challenge of your life and you had to get through that all by yourself.

warnings; angst, pregnancy, fluff, mentions of death, english is not my first language

words; idk 🤷🏻‍♀️

a/n; this idea was stuck into my brain since last week and once i couldn't find anything similar to it anywhere to read, i decided to write it myself. also you can send me your requests!!

a/n2; f1 fans please don't come after me i know you're expecting the 2nd part of the story with lewis but i have no motivation to write it😭i'll do it some time, but i don't know when. uni has been draining me out so much.

"please take care of yourself " was the last thing you told simon -your husband - before he left for yet another mission.

now it had been 12 months and there was no sign of him. however, a lot had happened in the past year, but most importantly you had given birth to a beautiful baby girl -all by yourself.

when you had found out that you were expecting, simon was long gone and you had no way to communicate with him. the only thing that you could do was to get through this pregnancy all alone. thank god that maternity leave was a thing, otherwise you had no idea how you could manage having a baby all by yourself.

whatsoever, you couldn't be mad at your husband as a matter of fact that you had found out about your pregnancy only one week after he had left, while the guilt was everyday eating you alive.

you had no idea how he would react though. you were aware of his past and how his father had treated him.

simon is a lovely human being... towards you. he's a sweet, loving and caring husband and you are absolutely sure that he will make a great father.

you had went through a lot during your pregnancy and you could admit that it wasn't an easy one; mood swings, cravings, morning sickness, back pain etc.

the worst part of it all was when you went into labour. you had spent hours and hours trying to bring the little bundle of joy, that you and the love of your life had created together, into this world.

and after many hours of pain and screaming you were finally holding your baby girl in your arms. the first thing that you had noticed about her were her eyes -same as her father's- and that made your eyes well up with tears.

now it had been almost 4 months since you had given birth and the constant stress of taking care of a baby by yourself had tore you apart both physically and emotionally. you were barely sleeping, you had lost your appetite and were actually a walking wreck.

some nights you would spend them in your bed crying yourself to sleep, wishing your husband was here to help you out.

currently, you were taking a shower as you heard your daughter crying. sighing deeply, you got out and wrapped a towel around you as you made your way to the nursery.

you took her in your arms and sat down on the rocking chair, lowering your towel and starting feeding her. once she was fed, you put her back to sleep and went into your room, changing quickly and laying on your bed.

you brought both your arms over your eyes in an attempt to block out any kind of light source and bit on your bottom lip trying not to cry, again.

as your mind wander in different places, you didn't hear the front door opening and closing as well as the heavy footsteps on the staircase.

you only raised your head as you saw your bedroom door opening, revealing your husband.

immediately, you were flooded by many different emotions as you jumped up from the bed and attacked him in a -suffocating- hug.

simon chuckled lightly and wrapped his arms protectively around you and kissed the top of your head.

"i can't believe that you're back." you pulled away for a moment "you're actually back." you embraced him again not having noticed the tears that were spilling from your eyes.

"i'm sorry it took me too long my love" he mumbled on top of your head as he squished you in his arms.

"i missed you" you lifted your head up, looking at him.

"i missed you y/n" he leaned down and slowly brought his lips on top of yours kissing you softly and yet so loving.

sooner or later, however, you broke away as you looked up at him with a huge smile.

"i have to show you something" you said excited and grabbed his hand, leading him out of your bedroom and across the hall way.

you glanced at him anxiously as you slowly opened the door of your baby's room. you turned on the lights and guided simon inside.

you were looking carefully at him as his expression changed from a curious one to a shocked.

"love..." he exclaimed as he turned to look at you while his bottom lip was trembling.

"i found out one week after you left. i had no way to tell you, simon, i'm so sorry" the guilt took over you.

"shh it's okay." he wrapped his arms once again around you as you sobbed into his chest.

"i just... it was awful, simon. first the guilt that there was a way to tell you, but i was too stupid to think about it and second all the pain, the emotions, everything... i just feel so... useless." you cried out.

"hey" he grabbed both your cheeks and looked you in the eye "you're the strongest woman i've ever known in my entire life, y/n. not only for going through a pregnancy and labour by yourself, but also for being able to get through that with being aware of a chance of me never coming back again and yet you got enough courage and look where that brought you love."

it was true. every time he would go on a new mission, the curiosity of his well being would kill you. every single day you were checking you mail for a letter that would be proclaiming your husband dead.

"i love you so much simon" you raised on your tiptoes and buried your face into the crook of his neck.

"i love you more sweetheart." he lifted your head once again and kissed you softly.

you were so grateful for the feeling of his warm, soft lips against yours, kissing them with so much love and care. every single time you would be in his radar, this man would worship the ground you were walking on.

finally, you pulled away with a small smile.

"come on" you guided him towards the crib where the newborn baby was sleeping in soundly.

carefully, you picked her up in your arms and turned towards simon that was looking at his daughter as if she was the most precious thing on earth.

"do you want to hold her?" you suggested.

"i... i don't know how" he admitted and you kissed his cheek smiling.

"that's why i'm here for. i'll show you how." you said and just like that you handed the small baby over to your husband that was feeling as if he was holding the most fragile thing in the world.

"she's... so small." he stroked lightly her rosy cheek with his thump.

what took you aback was that her little hand enveloped his pinky finger, holding it firmly. you gasped and his breath hitched in his throat.

"wow she didn't even do that to me. only knowing you for a few minutes and she's already a daddy's girl." you complained jokingly placing your hands on your hips.

"really doubt that. there's no one better than you." he kissed your forehead and your face broke into a huge smile as you wrapped your arms around your husband, admiring the way your daughter was rested in her father's chest, not really believing that you had finally built a family with the man you loved most in the entire world.

at that moment, you couldn't be more happy.

#simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you #ghost x reader #ghost x you #cod x reader #cod x you #mw2 x reader

[ronniespeterson]

Could you do fic for Toto Wolff with wife reader where she fall asleep on the couch across from his desk to the sound of him quietly working and the ghost sensation of him gently tucking his suit jacket/blanket around you? Just need something fluff and comfort. Thanks!!

baby, put your head on my shoulder - toto wolff x wife!reader

A/N: oh my god i'm so sorry this took so long, real life got in the way in a BIG way (don't do to uni kids) so i'm so sorry this took so long! I'm also sorry it's so short!

You liked accompanying Toto to the office in Brackley - it was always a nice little insight into the side of your husband's life that you didn't always see. He was the best husband - of that you were sure - but his work did overwhelm life sometimes.

He'd actually asked you to come with him, this time. That was something new, but dealing with the fallout of Lewis leaving to go to Ferrari next year was taking so much of his time that if he hadn't invited you, he wouldn't have seen you for a week (he might have been exaggerating but it worked). You sat opposite him, curled up on the sofa that sat on the other side of his office to his desk, doing some work of your own. You worked from home and so you could work anywhere (and usually did).

There wasn't any sound in the room apart from your two computer keyboards, and the repetitive sound had such a soothing effect on you. Before you knew it, you were struggling to keep your eyes open. You shut your laptop and put it down just in case you did fall asleep, and you were glad you did.

You swore you felt Toto lay his jacket over you as you fell asleep, not wanting you to get cold as you slept. You had fallen asleep by the time he pressed a kiss to your forehead, but that didn't matter. You were happy and content and that was all that mattered to your husband. He went back to his desk and kept working quietly, but not before he emailed everyone to say that you were asleep in his office and you were not to be disturbed.

#toto wolff x reader #toto wolff x wife reader #toto wolff x you #toto wolff fluff #fluff #f1 fanfic #formula 1 x reader #f1 x reader #formula 1 fanfic #fanfic

[spdrwdw]

How much for a crying absolutely depressed and stressed reader overwhelmed and just..

With a Miguel who comforts them even tho they’re failing because they know they should have done better but they were mentally in a hell hole

Like

I just need a hug

Help

(Don’t go to uni kids…)

I'm sorry you're stressed out, dear 💔 I know uni can be overwhelming and stressful. But you got this! You made it this far, I know you can keep going. Have some Miguel to give you comfort and also know that I am rooting for you! You got this! Same for anyone else who is burnt out and overwhelmed. We can get through it!

Art by onicli on twitter

Pairing: Miguel x f!reader

Warnings: none, just Miggy comforting you during a stressful time, no use of y/n

Summary: Miguel finds you stressed and depressed and tries his best to comfort you.

Word Count: 1.5k

Masterlist

☆*:.｡. o .｡.:*☆ ☆*:.｡. o .｡.:*☆ ☆*:.｡. o .｡.:*☆ ☆*:.｡. o .｡.

Miguel made his way to your shared apartment after a long day of keeping the multiverse intact and anomalies at bay. It was exhausting at times. It really was. Sometimes he would regret even coming across the multiverse, however, he knew it was fate. He had to be the one to find it and keep everything in line. Plus, he had to keep you safe. You were the most important and precious thing in his life. 

Slipping in through the bedroom window, he noticed how quiet it was. Eerily quiet. But after a second of concentration, he could hear something coming from the living room. It sounded like muffled sniffles and choked sobs. His eyes widened and he immediately busted the bedroom door open, removing it from its hinges. 

You jumped up and let out a yelp in surprise before seeing your boyfriend awkwardly holding the door in his hands. 

“Muñeca?” He blinked when he took a better look at your current state. You were wrapped up in one of your warm, fuzzy blankets. Used tissues were scattered all over the couch and floor. At first, Miguel thought you were sick. But, then he saw the tears that stained your cheeks and the back and forth rocking you were doing. 

Gingerly, he placed the door against the wall.

“Baby, what’s the matter? Hmm? What’s wrong?” He asked as he made your way over to your side in an instant, scooping you up into his arms as he sat on the couch. 

“Ven. Ven aquí, muñeca,” he cooed softly just before you began to burst into tears again, hiding your face against his shoulder. 

“Shh. Shh. Hey, what is it? Why are you crying?” He asked as he rubbed your back, trying to soothe you from whatever it was that was bothering you. 

You simply shook your head as you let out broken sobs. 

“I-I can’t- I-I-I can’t do this anymore,” you choked out. 

“Can’t do what?” He asked, puzzled. At first, he wondered if it was about you two. Was there something going on between the two of you that Miguel wasn’t aware of? Was he neglecting his girlfriend? He had been rather busy these past few days. With working at Alchemax and being Spider-Man and all that jazz. Or..was there an important date that he missed? 

Shit. Was it yall’s anniversary? No. That’s next month..

 “Come on, baby. You can tell me. I’m here for you. Let me know what it is that’s bothering you.”

“I’m just so stressed out. W-with everything. I am trying, Miguel. I really am,” you sniffled. “But, I feel things have just been crumbling all around me. Failure after failure. It feels like I’m burning on fumes. 

First, it was that work assignment I had that didn’t seem to be up to my boss’s standards. I worked so hard with research for that damn thing. I stressed over that assignment! I put up with many sleepless nights due to it. And he just tossed it in the trash! Didn’t even spare a glance at it! 

And then with school. I sometimes wonder if doing grad school is worth it. Like, is it really going to benefit me? All these assignments. All that research and pages and pages of reading and writing just for the professors to glance at it for five seconds and put a big fat F on it because the topic isn’t Nobel Prize worthy or something. It’s just too much and I feel like my brain is going to explode!” You sobbed as you let out a heavy sigh, feeling the tightening in your chest constrict your breathing. 

“I just wish I could figure things out, you know? I feel like I don’t know what I am doing with my life. I don’t know who I am or want to become…and..I just want to know my place in this world.”

Miguel lightly tightened his grip around her, upset that his girl was feeling this way.

“You don’t need to figure anything out. There is nothing to figure out. You know who you are. You know your place. You’ve been working so hard to get to where you are and I am so proud of you for it, muñeca. I know things haven’t been going well, and that’s okay. It’s just a little bump in the road. That’s all. 

We all have our highs and lows. I know I do. I swear I have gray hairs now due to all the stress. But, I push through it, you know. I always see the light at the end of the tunnel.” 

Miguel continued to rub your back before tilting your head up and placed a kiss on your forehead and began to wipe your tears away.

“And I have you to anchor me. You keep me grounded and keep me sane. I push through because I know that you will always have my back and help me get back up should I fall. 

And I am here to do the same with you. I will support you. I will let you cry on my shoulder. I will pick you up when you fall. But, I won’t let you suffer with anything on your own. No matter how big or small the issue. I will be by your side.” 

You sniffled before nodding your head, closing your eyes when Miguel kissed your moist cheeks before placing soft kisses all over your face and lips. 

“I think we both could use a break. From work. From School. And from protecting the multiverse. What do you say? Let’s play hooky and do whatever we want for a day or two,” Miguel suggested, a soft smile on his face. 

“Really?” You asked him, letting out a shaky breath as you tried to calm your nerves. 

Miguel nodded his head as he scooped you back up and carried you to your shared room, settling you onto the bed. 

“Just take slow, steady breaths, baby. Everything is going to be fine and you’ll get out of this slump. Okay? Don’t stress about work. That assignment is over and done with. Move past it. And school. You got so little left to go! And in the end no one is going to care if you got an F or two. Just keep doing your best. Okay?” 

“Okay,” you nodded your head as he helped tuck you into bed before he dissolved his suit and began to get his pjs on. 

He removed his gizmo, placing it on the nightstand and turned it off. Miguel almost never turned his gizmo off, so, seeing that he did made you feel a wave of relief wash through you for a moment. At least you knew he was serious about spending the coming days with you.

As you waited for him to get ready for bed, you stared up at the ceiling, eyes glossing over with tears threatening to fall. You knew you shouldn’t be crying. There was no reason to cry. But, you just couldn’t bear another failed school assignment, or another stressful work project. You felt like a failure. Like an imposter as you try to navigate through your field of work and study. 

“Hey, hey. What did I just say, hmm? No more tears. No more worrying,” Miguel frowned when he saw your glossy eyes as he climbed into bed. 

Wrapping his strong arms around you, he pulled you close to him and peppered the crown of your head with kisses. 

“I know. I know. I just can’t keep my mind from going back to it all,” you apologized. 

“I understand.”

And Miguel did. He understood completely. He had been in those slumps many times before and he was sure he would fall into another one again eventually. But, like he had told you before, he had you to help him keep it all together. 

“Just know that I am here for you, baby. You can rant to me about anything. No worry is too big or too small. But, just know that you’re not alone. I am here. I am always going to be here.”

You nodded your head as you tried to wipe away a stray tear that had managed to fall.

“Thank you, Miguel. Really. It means a lot to me,” you told him, giving him a small smile. And it did mean a lot to you, knowing that you had him by your side to support you. Knowing that he was cheering you on. It meant a lot.

“And you can always tell me about anything, too, Miggy. While I may not understand all that multiverse jumbo, you can talk to me,” you assured him.

Miguel smiled, a slight gleam in his eyes. “I know, muñeca. I know you’re here for me. And that’s what keeps me going. Your love and your support.

Now. Let’s get some sleep, okay? Tomorrow is a new day and a fresh start. Leave all that worry behind.”

“Okay,” you nodded, nuzzling yourself closer to his warmth.

"Oh..don't forget to fix the door, please," you suddenly reminded him.

Miguel let out a chuckle, tightening his grip around you a bit. "I won't baby. Promise."

His strong heartbeat began to lull you to sleep, for morning would bring you a new day with no stress. And you couldn’t wait.

☆*:.｡. o .｡.:*☆ ☆*:.｡. o .｡.:*☆ ☆*:.｡. o .｡.:*☆ ☆*:.｡. o .｡.

#miguel o'hara #spiderman 2099 #atsv miguel #miguel ohara #miguel o’hara x reader #atsv #miguel x reader #miguel ohara fanfiction #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel ohara x reader #miguel o hara x reader #miguel o’hara fic

[faintedlcve]

Hi Lucy hope you’re days going well! I had a fic ide for Mattheo x best friend fem! Reader where it’s been a stressful week but it’s Friday night, raining in Hogwarts and they’re hanging out watching IT (Mattheo convinced her) after class and she’s a gryffindor and acts like she’s not scared but when it’s night time she’s afraid to fall asleep because of the movie and she ends up going to his dorm and he confesses he likes her and she sleeps with him?(maybe a longer FIC?)

I love your work so much!

Big mistake.

Decided to combine these two x

Pairing: Mattheo Riddle x fem!reader (they are bff's BC bff to lovers is the second best trope to ever exist. Nothing beats e2l imo but that's beside the point.)

Warnings: mentions of violent imagery ig?, cuddling, mentions of intercourse, kissing, not proof read lmk if I missed any.

Summary: you and your friends decide to watch a horror movie. Unfortunately for you, you still wonder what lingers under your bed.

Sorry this took me so long! I was preparing for my Uni which starts in a couple days so I'm super sorry for the wait! Hope you like it x

I watched IT when I was 6 because my parents were watching it on the big TV in the same room as me and I thought it'd be a cute movie but it was... Bad to say the least. I have been traumatised ever since 🥰

reblogs (with tags) are always appreciated!! It is so much help!!

You hated horror movies. But somehow you let your best friend, Mattheo, convince you to watch "IT" with your friends.

Big Mistake.

The violent imagery flashed your mind. The cannibalism, the blood, the balloon, the- the everything.

You didn't get scared by horror movies easily. You'd watched Annabelle, the Conjuring and whatnot without being terrified but IT, oh god, IT.

"You okay, princess?"Mattheo asked. "You look like you've seen a ghost." He chuckled.

You had. You'd seen a ghost. Or a clown. But it was more terrifying than any other ghosts you'd ever witnessed in your life.

"Huh? Oh yeah, I- I'm alright!" You exclaimed too caught up in terrifying thoughts than to pay attention to your boyfriend.

He knew. Of course he did. He was your best friend. But he didn't hold it over your head. He didn't even mention it.

"Do you want me to walk you to your dorm?" He asked.

"Yes but I don't know if they allow it." You replied.

"Eh they probably don't allow a couple of 16 year olds to watch IT during night either but we did it anyway." He joked.

"Wouldn't you be afraid of being seen with a Gryffindor?" You asked knowing he had quite a high status and hoped him being seen with a Gryffindor wouldn't lower it in anyway.

"Not as much as you're afraid of Pennywise." He winked.

"I so am not!" You said offended, crossing your arms and pretending to be mad at him.

"Ok princess, keep telling yourself that." He chuckled as you elbowed him.

As you neared your dorm, the scenes obscured your mind again. You took a deep breath and opened the door.

"Bye princess" Mattheo waved.

"Bye Mattheo. Thank you." You replied as you waved back.

And there it was. Your facade fell apart and petrifying thoughts clouded your mind. You pulled the sheets over your head as you laid in bed. You were fine for the first few minutes until... giggles and lines clouded your mind.

Lines such as "You'll float too!"

You were caught in an endless loop of a nightmare and the only way to stop it was... was to admit you were afraid so you'd be okay. So he'd take care of you. No, not Pennywise!

You made your way to his dorm and knocked.

"Come in!" A voice shouted from inside.

You entered Mattheo's dorm.

"Princess? What are you doing here?" He asked bewildered.

You took a deep breath and dreadfully opened your mouth to tell Mattheo the reason for your presence.

"I'm scared." You said.

He chuckled slightly.

"IT'S NOT FUNNY." You whisper-shouted.

He giggles before he pats next to him. You walk over to his side and sit down next to him.

"I don't think I resonate well with the idea of you sleeping with me." He said as he realised what you were there for.

"Huh, why?" You asked deeply hurt.

"I wouldn't be able to control myself" he smirked as he winked.

You elbowed him yet again.

"Ow! That hurt!" He stated.

"It's about to hurt a lot more if you don't shut up!" You threatened half joking.

"Alright alright. You can sleep here." He replied.

"Thank you." You said.

"I meant it, you know." He said.

"Huh?" You asked confused.

"I wouldn't be able to control myself if you slept with me." He stated.

"Huh and why's that?" You questioned.

"Because I- I like you princess." He replied.

"Oh." You simply said.

"Oh?" He repeated looking hurt. "I probably shouldn't have, I'm sorry I made it weird. I-"

Without thinking you kissed him. It felt good. You felt better. You could feel Mattheo smirk into the kiss.

You both pulled away when you started getting breathless.

"I like you too." You replied.

"Yeah I figured." He smirked.

"Get over yourself!" You exclaimed.

You placed yourself next to Mattheo on the bed. He placed one of his hands in your hair and the other one on your waist to pull you closer. His hand moved down from your hair to your cheek as he caressed it.

Butterflies exploded in your stomach as he did so. You closed your eyes and melted into his touch.

And with that you slept.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡*:☆

The next morning you woke up. At first you were confused as to what you were doing in Mattheo's room but soon enough you remembered.

"Good morning Princess." He smiled at you.

"hey. I mean- good morning." You replied.

He chuckled at your flustered state.

After the atmosphere in the room became thick, Mattheo spoke.

"I didn't know you had a fear of clowns, princess." He teased.

"I didn't! I used to like clowns!"

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡*:☆

A/n: I hope you liked it! Hope this is long enough for you anon. Sorry for the unnecessarily long wait xx

#harry potter #harry potter imagine #mattheo x reader #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo x y/n #mattheoxreader #mattheo riddle #mattheo x you #mattheo riddle x y/n #mattheo riddle x you #mattheo riddle fluff #deadly class imagine #deadly class #marcus lopez x you #marcus lopez x y/n #marcus lopez imagine #marcus lopez x reader #marcus lopez arguello

[maitadori]

Hi there love,

How are ya doing ?

…So exams are hurting my soul right now, I hate uni 😭

If you have time can you do a little something, where blade and jing yuan (or just blade if you choose only one) where they are distracting their s/o from studying or completing their paper work. If you can, can you make it nsfw 💕

KEEP YOUR HANDS TO YOURSELF nsfw blade, jing yuan x fem!reader, separately

content warning : blades is modern. reader is wearing a skirt in jing yuan’s fingering (blade), dry jumping (jing yuan) nothing much else really

a/n : hiiii tysm for requesting me!! and to answer u i am doing preeetty good, i’ve been somewhat busy and burnt out (even though i barely write to begin with) so i’m trying to get back in the groove. you actually sent this ask awhile back and i am so sorry it took me so long to respond 😭.. but i hope ur exams weren’t too much of a pain in the ass. and i hope this is up to your standards!!! this is kinda small but if i tried going into the actual stuff i would’ve lost motivation 2 write.

requests are open btw plz request me i want smth to do

do u guys notice that i don’t have a posting schedule. idk if anyone actually does but

DARK CONTENT BLOGS AND MINORS PLZ DNI!!!

BLADE :

blade was insatiable

something the both of you were already aware of

in his defense you looked sexy even when you were just sitting there

so could you really blame him for wanting to undress you even when whatever you were doing was so mundane?

he laid on your bed, taking in the scent of you on your pillow as he watched you shuffle through papers

your focused face had him staring

the way your eyes squinted, the way you clicked your tongue whenever something irritated you, or when you huffed out sighs like every three seconds due to exhaustion

his eyes then dropped to look at the glossiness of your lips as you bit them in a fruitless attempt to concentrate

he could feel his pants tighten the longer he stared

he could feel embarrassed. he should feel embarrassed. but he really can’t bring himself to care about the details, all he knew was he wanted you. bad.

so when you look up at him through your lashes once he approaches your desk and you blink, clueless. he’s far reached past his breaking point

“blade! you can’t be serious! i really have to nnn-” you’re cut off as he curls his fingers in a certain angle — putty in his hands within mere seconds, you’re barely able to speak coherently, “i have to study!”

“you’ve been doing that all day,” he groans out, watching your contorting face with rapt attention, resisting the urge to get the foreplay over with and shove himself inside you.

if anything he should be getting praised for holding out this long.

blade has you on your back as he hovers over you, fingers buried in the depths of you as he observes every twitch and jerk. a certain stroke of his has your eyes rolling behind your eyelids — a sight that has blade taking your lips immediately.

the kiss is rough and desperate, it alone conveys how much blade wants — no, needs you. he’s biting your lips, sucking your tongue and practically your life force as you go limp from the ferocity of it all.

“you— haah — you came to me knowing i’d be.. be busy! it’s not my fault you don’t listeeennn!!!” your leg jerks and you impulsively try kicking him away as your climax approaches. he’s curling the sweet spot within you so efficiently that your mind goes blank.

all you can do is chant his name as if he were your god, drunk on him and his touch.

he gets harder at the sight of you losing yourself, not even aware that it was possible — but of course you of all people prove him wrong.

as your vision goes white and your cries echo throughout the house once you fall over the edge, blades easing you through it, rubbing your clit as you moan in ecstasy. once blade is sure that your orgasm has passed and you go lax against your pillows, he makes haste to unbuckle and undress himself. he’d be damned if he wasn’t inside you before the minute ended.

your arms are over your eyes as you pant heavily. you’re exhausted beyond belief and as of now, studying is the last thing on your mind. it isn’t until you hear the clanking of metal together that you peek from behind your arms.

lo and behold, blade pulling his thick cock from the confines of his boxers. your eyes bulge and you look up at him questioningly. “w-wait.. you’re not..”

“what’d you think i was prepping you for?” he asks, tone raspy and somewhat condescending.

you dig your elbows into the pillows to sit you up, but blade pushes you back against the bed with one hand and cock in the other. “you’re crazy if you think i’m gonna go any longer without fucking you.”

“i have exams soon, can’t it wait?”

“it can’t.”

before you could try and say anything more, his slaps the tip of his cock against your clit, rubbing against it in an up and down motion. your eyes roll back and your tongue goes heavy.

you couldn’t find it in you to care about your studies when he filled you all the way to the hilt. this was much better anyways.

JING YUAN :

one thing about jing yuan is that he is extremely persuasive and convincing.

you had to admit it was both his worst and best trait

when his voice is suave and deep, it’s almost like you’re being lured in by a siren

and you hate the effect he has on you, because it’s always hard to say no

not only that but he’s extremely shameless. he isn’t afraid or embarrassed of showing his attraction towards you

so when he wants something from you, he has you wrapped around his finger within mere moments.

he’s swarming you like a mosquito, buzzing in your ear with his voice, you resist the urge to swat him

he has an extremely important meeting next week that needs to be arranged accordingly, but jing yuan is more interested in feeling you up.

usually you’d have no qualms about this and you’d accept easily, and you’re sure that no matter what jing yuan does, his reputation as the general will stay strong

but the idea of people thinking badly of him has your stomach stirring

so you scold and you wave him away, all in vain, really.

because if jing yuans anything else other than persuasive and charismatic, it’s stubborn.

he leans down to nip your neck lightly with his canines and you hate to admit how quickly you melted

jing yuan’s lips are hot on yours. you can feel him fighting off a smile as he devours you whole. he has you straddling him on his chair, papers haphazardly moved about as you try to find balance on the desk behind you.

jing yuan’s hands know no bounds, for they touch any skin they find. he’s caressed you from your neck and collarbones to the hem of your panties. he makes sure to give your chest good attention too. teasing just under your bra and chuckling at your desperate whining.

“ah. but didn’t you say you had to work? maybe we should stop,” he says that, yet he’s smirking. he hasn’t even taken off your shirt yet, and you have half the mind to go back to work and try and act as if his behavior doesn’t affect you so heavily.

you’re silent, coherency on its last thread. jing yuan is aware and decides to give you a little break.

he gestures for you to lift your arms, and despite the weakness in them, you use your last remaining bits of strength to give jing yuan leeway of ridding you of your shirt.

and before you can do anything else, his teeth are kissing bruises into your skin, soothing them with pecks of his lips right after.

your fingers go behind his neck to grip the roots of his hair and your head tilts back as your lips part to make shape of his name.

jing yuan’s lips are occupied so he decides to busy his hands as well. his thumb teases the curve of your nipple that’s glossy from his saliva as his other thumb nears dangerously close to your clothed clit. he eagerly lifts your skirt to make way for his hand, anticipation going through the roof at the feel of your heavily soaked panties.

“tell me where you want me,” he groans out.

“touch me here,” you whimper, placing his hand right against your panties.

his smirk returns and his voice takes on a condescending tone, “but i am touching your there, aren’t i?”

“jing yuan!!” you moan breathily, voice coated in half pleasure and half anger. at the sound jing yuan’s lips curl into a smile.

a ghost of his finger right over where you needed him most has a loud whine leaving your lips. it’s not exactly what you wanted, but with your general, you’d take what you could get.

but you don’t even notice how quick you gyrate your hips in search of that familiar friction. you unintentionally shoved jing yuan’s face in your chest, your face in his hair and arms moved to wrap around his neck as you moan prettily.

you’ve hit the point where your mind is blank and only in search of pleasure, something that jing yuan experiences with you a lot.

but instead of disciplining you for this behavior as he usually would when you got out of hand, he sets his heavy hands on your waist to help guide your movement, teeth nipping at your skin. he’s happy with his decision once your noises get louder and your grip around his tightens.

jing yuan’s mind clouds and he can’t help admitting that he likes this side of you, the side of you that cares not for his pleasure and just wants to use him for your own.

jing yuan taglist : @ceylestia @comettheasteroid @voidsatoru @blazervain @meaningofaeons

blade taglist : @shrimp-anon @caesadele i just realized how small my blade taglist is omg

#honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #blade hsr #honkai star rail #jing yuan #blade honkai star rail x reader #blade hsr x reader #honkai star rail blade x reader #jing yuan x reader #blade x reader #blade smut #jing yuan smut #🃏; saturn.writes

[thisismeracing]

OUR BABY ANGIE | MS47

Pairing: mick schumacher x fem!reader (she/her)

Warnings: mentions of long-distance relationships; not proofread; tooth-rotting fluff.

Word count: 1k

A/n: This was written per this request. Nonny, I'm sorry for taking forever to answer you, honey! I hope you guys like it, let me know your thoughts 💜

my masterlist and my taglist * requests are open!

When you started dating Mick you knew half of your relationship would be long-distance, not only because of his racing weeks but also because you always found yourself super busy with school and work. As the saying goes, it takes two to tango, and well, didn't Mick decide he was the best dancer in the world?!

He did.

Mick Schumacher was not only the dancer figuratively speaking, but he also made sure the music would be there, and that the band would play as you two went.

It felt great to have him as a partner, to share the good and the bad of life and not be afraid of judgment. To Mick, it felt exactly the same, except although your relationship was, to some extent, new, he knew you were there to stay, or at least that he would make sure you stayed as long as possible because life after you made his heart squeeze in sadness. Everyone from his personal life loved you and loved your connection, his mom would ask about you, his sister always talked with you, and his friends would share how happier he seemed whenever you were around or the subject of a conversation,

And then there was Angie, Angie was obsessed with you, she would wiggle her tail excitedly every time she heard your name or your voice, and she went as far as stealing a pair of clothing of yours from Mick's closet to sleep with it in her little dog bed.

That was one of the reasons why Mick thought it would be a good idea to ask you to watch her during this racing week. You loved her and she loved you and he was well aware of how lonely you could get studying non-stop and getting home to an empty apartment. It was joining the useful to the pleasant, everyone would be happy.

When Mick asked if you were okay to stay with his dog for a week while he was away you were surprised and flattered because that meant he trusted you to watch over something he loved and cherish deeply. He trusted you with Angie, it is not the same as when someone lets you borrow a car or a bike, it was a dog.

His dog.

His precious dog.

It was Angie.

And you loved Angie so of course you loved the idea of having her around. When Mick left, after making sure to remind you of her diet, and the little habits you were still getting used to, Angie curled herself on your side and just chilled with one of her toys while you took notes to get ahead for an important class.

Things went smoothly during the week. She would make sure to stay around you, and sometimes it felt like she was watching you and not the other way around. You two would go for walks before you left to work and then when you got home from uni. You would eat together, her little bowl of dog food close to you while you were seating on the sofa or sometimes even on the ground beside her. Your bond just got stronger and you were starting to wish to have her around all the time. It was common to see her when Mick was around, but it wasn't the same as getting home to her or seeing her happy wiggle when you gave her a treat or let her run in the park.

When Mick got home you were laying on the sofa watching a movie after a stressful college day. Angie was laying right beside you, her little head resting on your belly while you scratched mindlessly behind her ears and ran your fingers through her soft fur.

You were almost sleeping when you heard the keys jiggling and the door opening. Angie was already at the door, tail excitedly wiggling for her best friend. Mick got in and dropped his luggage at the entrance before crouching down to pet and hug her.

It felt domestic whenever he decided to come straight to you from the airport instead of going to his own house. It felt like your home was his home, and you loved that. Having Angie around now only amplified the feeling.

"Hi, my angel!! I've missed you too!!" Mick scratched her ears while she tried to lick all over his face, "How was it staying with mommy this time? Did she you enough treats? Did she spoil you, Angie?"

You froze on your spot. Mick had just referred to you as Angie's mom. The mom of his dog to whom he was the dad. And you were the mom.

Your heart rate picked up and everything just combined: how much you missed him, how he was always the best boyfriend you've ever had, how he trusted you, and now, how he saw a future with you, how serious he was about it. You felt almost like crying.

"Hey, meine Liebe," you were so lost in your thoughts you did not see when Mick approached you. A huge grin on his face.

"Hi, babe," you managed to answer while getting up to hug him close to you. His arms circled your waist and smashed your bodies together.

"I've missed you so much," he breathes, distancing himself just enough to find your lips with his in a passionate and longing kiss.

"I've missed you too," you whispered, hands on his shoulders for support.

Mick didn't miss a beat before laying both of you on the couch, your body propped on top of his, his hands imprinting themselves around you.

"Did you refer to me as Angie's mom?" you blurted anxiously after some minutes of silence, too many feelings to be kept inside.

Mick studied your face for a beat, his fingers caressing your jaw and chin, "I-I did, I'm sorry if it-"

"No, no need to be sorry. I'm Angie's mom, she's my baby," you happily exclaimed and Mick chuckled.

"She's our baby," he corrected pecking your lips.

"I love you," it was a whisper, but he was watching your lips and he saw the exact second it scaped between them.

"I love you," he repeated and you kissed him one more time before making space for Angie to cuddle you two on the couch.

You couldn't be happier.

taglist: @sachaa-ff @ferrariloverr @kenanlotus0 @mickslover @dalsuwaha @formulakay3 @mishaandthebrits

#mick schumacher imagines #mick schumacher #f1 imagines #mick schumacher x you #mick schumacher x reader #mick schumacher fluff #blurbs #millie writes #requests #ms47

[blingblong55]

All too well- Simon 'Ghost' Riley

A/N: this is some of me in writing and why I believe romance is not for me, not now at least...so enjoy :) --- F!Reader, angst? fluff?, toxic!Ghost, age gap, older boyfriend!Ghost ----

A/N: I know Ghost wouldn't be this kind of man if he was real but I have to break my heart with him...sorry

He is older than you, years ahead of you and has more experience than you do so when you broke up with him, it was hard to let go. You at the time were 20, he was 37. People always judged and of course, you thought it was because they were jealous not because they were seriously concerned. Still, in Uni, he wanted you to make him your priority. You always said no and for some reason, he would get mad about this. At first, he was the nice guy, he was perfect and it all made you more sure that maybe there was a future with him. Your free time was spent with him because somehow, he convinced you to give all your time to him. 

This all gets noticed by all your friends. Your phone, passwords and even social accounts get monitored and checked by him. It wasn't all romance anymore. It became a reward system, you gave him your free time? Maybe he would be romantic. You let him control your friendships? Maybe he would tell you more about his weekends. Soon enough, you noticed it. Simon became the villain and for good reasons. He played the perfect part all too well, but only to those questioning stares and in those moments, it was perfection. 

When the stares looked away, he was the same Simon that had your heart trapped at the top of the castle. His anger and manipulative tactics become the dragon. Everywhere you went, his shadows lurked for you. When he said he wanted you to think of him every second of your waking life, he meant it. Will he approve of me talking to them? Your mind always asked that, even if the guy was just a friend, a literal friend and nothing more, Simon crept into your head. 

His childhood memories, being told to you, maybe it was for sympathy or maybe it was to make you think he wasn't the cold-hearted man who made you cry on Valentine's Day. "Simon! Do you not understand how rude and mean that was?!" Your heart was stabbed by his actions on that day. "R/N, you are being dramatic!" A gift that you went out of your way for in the hands of a woman who is supposed to be a best friend of yours. Two people were lied to this day, you and the naive of your best friend. "I did it, it was for you! when I made it, my mind went to you! Gosh Simon, why can't you see how rude this was!" He walks to you, hands gripping your body. "You are acting like a goddamn child R/N!" He shook you, thinking it would make you understand better. "I'm not the one dating someone young now am I?" The anger that left your mouth, oh that sent him over the edge. "Don't you fucking dare!" he said through gritted teeth. "I'm still growing, you are a grown man who doesn't even think for a moment that your fucking girlfriend did something for you! I did that and that fucking girl thinks you did it for her!" You push him and he gives you that stare. The same one your father gave you when he was made and was ready to yell and punch walls. 

Three weeks later, that is how long it took you to do it. "I'm being serious Simon, it's over." Your voice is cold and he scoffs with a low chuckle. "Aren't you too young to make the decisions here, doll?" That voice, how he gave you a condescending tone and how he approached you. "I think I'm more mature than you to know this is wrong. Me loving you is wrong and it's dead...this is over." He shakes his head and walks away furious. For weeks he called you, maybe to haunt you but every time you answered, it was the same old thing. Random numbers during class, lunch or at night called you. When they stopped, you sighed and for the first time, you smiled, a genuine one. 

The day you broke up with him was still fresh on your mind. He was a strong man, that is no doubt, so if he wanted to, he could harm you so easily. Your friend theorised that he could make you disappear, all to keep the pretty little young lover near. It is true what they say, there will always be a reason men like him stay alone for long. There's a reason why they date younger ones and not women who know best. Sometime later, that best friend approaches you, unaware of what happened between you and Simon. 

"He told me what happened." But he told her lies, told her that it was you that was the problem. After she gave you his truth, you gave her the real truth. "So...the...gift, it wasn't really from him-" "No, and I'm not asking for anything back, not at all. Just, be careful, he...he isn't the man he says he is and please...please for your own sake stay away." That same day, you found out he asked me to meet up. I thought he meant as friends, since well I thought I was his friend." She wouldn't do it, you thought. "And at first I was okay with it until he kept asking over and over. I felt weird about it because it didn't seem like it would be a friendly meet-up, I said no, out of respect for you." You hugged her. "I know he was asking to hook up but I can't do that, not to my best friend." she hugged back and you two soon talked more. 

Simon, oh that man was a mess. He soon engaged when your young heart was still grieving him behind doors. His fiance tagged people you knew, those people, some, told you he moved on. This was a game plan. Tell the young lover what was lost and maybe, they'll come running to you. It hurt but it didn't work. You noticed how happy he was. How much more he changed and in your head, you asked why he couldn't change for you. You look at the lovers that pass by, how the guy treats his girl and for a moment, you wish that was you. 

Memories come every night. 

Winter. No one knew how your heart felt for him but he did. His body is close to yours as he wraps you with the blanket, he kisses your shoulder and smiles. The art of making love was something he was an expert in. 

Summer. He takes you on midnight rides. Holds your hand and sings along with you. Your hair is in the wind as his lips meet your hand. Simon, the man who taught you so much now making you cry on the way home. 

Autumn. Your dad heard your cries as Simon explained to you why he wouldn't go to you. A woman moans on his side of the phone, "it was the movie," he explains so easily. 

Spring. Filled with arguments, tears and sex. Manipulation works its way to your body. "Fuck you!" You cry as he yet again reminds you that you are young and stupid. He degrades you this way. Reminds you that he has the upper hand for being older than you. 

You later learn he had another girl while being with you. His free time is shared between you and some other girl. Your bed is drenched in tears of regret and sorrow. The headphones blasted the words your heart cried for. 

For moments, he was liberty, fun, happiness and love. Now, when you look back at it, Simon Riley was the man who lived as the dragon of the castle, the one you had to fight off to regain your heart. You hated him for what he was. Your heart, body and soul kept him like a sword oath. The same one that had you overthinking. Did you ask for too much? Were you even a good girlfriend? 

Get out of my head, you cry. "If we had been closer in age, maybe you would understand what I wanted." He texts you some random day. That night, your friends held you as you cried in some bar. The last time you saw him was on your twenty-first birthday. Your mum asked for something from the store, so as you walk down the busy streets, your eyes catch a glimpse of him. His gaze catches yours. It was then you learned that this would be the last time you cry over him. He is dead to you, something to be proud of. 

It was then he learned you were the only good thing he had. His ex-fiance out of his life, just like you but unlike her, you were good. 

"Simon!" Your laughter fills the lounge room. "I told you, doll, this is what you get for that tickle," Simon's deep laugh belonged to yours. It's a melody. The fireplace, the laughs, the kiss after and how you both panted from an intense tickle fight. It was rare but beautiful. You cup his face, "I love you," you whisper and he grins. "oooh I knew it!" he picks you up again and you laugh. 

This is the end of the warm time

As you walk past the park, you think of the old times. It is bittersweet. The way things ended, the way he loved you, kissed you, it was good until it wasn't. Simon Riley is a man on many faces, one you know all too well. 

Love, what a miserable thing to be a part of when you had him. 

A/N: so....there's that...

Tags: @liyanahelena @dilfgestivo @bobthe-turmpetman29 @kylie-7 @sharkyyyyyyyyyyyy @idkbbyx3 @goldenmclaren @ghostslillady @moonsua1 @rvivienner @krinoid24 @istillcantfindausername @iruzias @frazie99 @spicypicklesoh @viomast @saoirse06 @vampsquerade @undercover-smutlover @juneonhoth @tiredmetalenthusiast @jinxxangel13

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[allysunny]

how would you feel about Miguel x deceased!reader angst like he is looking at old videos of his old life with Gabi??

Fragments of Yesterday | Miguel O'Hara x Fem!Reader

Words: 3.6k

Warnings: Character death, blood, descriptions of violence, angst, very sad Miguel. If I missed anything, please do let me know!

A/N: I AM BACK??? I am SO sorry for the delay! Uni has just started once again, and I was busy sorting everything out. These first few weeks are super hectic, and I barely had any time to write. Anyways, I hope you like this piece! I'm not entirely sure how I feel about it - I think I've written better stuff. I love the ending but something feels off, maybe it was too abrupt? Not sure I like how it turned out. But! It's very angsty and sad, and I had a blast writing it because I LOVE writing angst (shocking!)

Also, I tried to do some more research on the spanish language and on how to use endearement terms. I would hate to be disrespectful to a culture and language that isn't mine, so if there's anything wrong with the spanish here, please do let me know, and I promise I will do better! I'm also deathly afraid of fetishizing Miguel and his culture, so please do call me out if my writing ever does that. It really isn't my intention.

Anyways, I hope you guys like it! I haven't forgotten about my other requests, and am working on them :) Just please, be patient with me. Thank you! <3

“Papa! Papa, look! Doesn’t Mama look gorgeous?” His precious little girl said, pulling him by the hand. The camera he held captured only what was before him, which shifted in just a few seconds. He’d been sitting down on his living room’s couch, camera pointed at the floor as he tried to figure out how to get it to work. Then, he was crossing every room in his apartment until he was met with the sight of you, standing right in front of your mirror.

“Stooop looking at the camera!” Gabriela shouted once more, tugging his arm. He did what she asked, placing it down and walking towards you. Your daughter looked adorable in her pale pink dress, all frills and ribbons, a flower headband adorning her head and pulling her curls back. “Look at her! Look at Mama!”

And so he did, and wow.

You looked…

Wow.

“Cat got your tongue, Miggy?” You looked over your shoulder to give him a flirty smile. Your face was in full display, since you’d pushed your hair back to form a ponytail, and only a single rebellious strand fell, giving you that air of effortless, timeless beauty Miguel has always considered you to have.

He took you in. The dark blue dress that fitted you perfectly, long, silky sleeves flowing as you moved around. The sweetheart neckline was flattering on your body, hugging your figure in all the right ways, and making your husband salivate just by looking at you.

“Doesn’t Mama look like a princess?” Gabriela asked once again, looking up at you in awe. You smiled and bent over, taking her cheeks in your hands, and placing the most tender kiss on top of her forehead.

“You’re the princess, mija. You look wonderful.” The little girl beamed, hands resting on top of yours. She then turns to her Papa, who’s still smiling like a fool.

“Answer, Papa!”

You tilted your head to the side, smiling at your husband.

 “Go on, Papa, answer your daughter.” You said to him with a small chuckle.

Miguel gathered his thoughts. His gorgeous wife was standing right next to his beautiful daughter. The two most precious people in the entire world were standing right in front of him, making this a sight to remember.

“You’re right, mija. Your Mama does look like a princess.” You blushed at his words, doing a silly little twirl for him and your daughter. Gabriela’s jaw fell wide open, and she clapped happily, claiming you really were a princess.

The you in the video got closer, meaning Miguel approached the both of you with his camera. Turning it around, the three of you could finally appear in one frame together. Him, all sharp cheekbones, and tired eyes, you, all dazzling smile and sparkling gaze, and your daughter, a sweet mix of the two.

“Say hi to the video,” he said happily, and the both of you obliged. You, waving gracefully, and Gabriela doing it as if her life depended on it.

The video ended.

Right away, another one started.

“Shhhh, she’s sleeping!” You hushed your husband as soon as he stepped into the room. You’d been nursing little Gabriela for a while now, and after what felt like an eternity, she’d finally fallen asleep. Her tiny mouth was parted, and the slow rise and fall of her chest was a gentle reminder that she was alive and well.

“Just wanted to record this moment,” Was the reply Miguel gave you. He pointed the camera at you and melted at the sight. Lately you’d been complaining about your appearance – your hair felt dry and flat, the bags under your eyes were huge, and your body had gone through a lot of changes. But Miguel?

He saw a beautiful and radiant woman, whose body had transformed to accommodate his child. Whose smile was ever as dazzling, whose eyebags were a testament of the love and care you had for your daughter. He saw a goddess, and he hoped his video camera lens could capture that.

“She looks like you.” You said with a smile, finger lightly tracing the round, chubby cheek of your child. “I personally think it’s quite unfair. I did all the work.”

“I’d say I worked quite hard myself,” Miguel replied, sitting close to you, and giving you a chuckle, “I mean, if it weren’t for me…” You raised an eyebrow, and Miguel was quick to shut up, but not before giving you a light chuckle. “Fine, fine. I guess it is unfair.”

He placed the camera on top of the small coffee table in front of the couch and placing a protective arm around your figure. His hand came up to caress his little girl’s head, and although you weren’t used to the sight of mighty Miguel O’Hara becoming putty whenever he saw her, you couldn’t say you weren’t pleased.

“Mis hermosas chicas…” He mumbled, glancing up at you. You swore you could see pure, sheer, raw adoration in those eyes of his. How you loved whenever your husband got like this, when he sat down and idolised the hell out of you and your little girl.

Big bad brooding Miguel O’Hara was a lovesick fool, and a proud father. How sweet.

The last video was the most recent.

“Come, come, Papa! Hurry up!” This point of view was odd, floating up in the air, ominously overlooking the O’Hara family. Gabriela had asked Lyla to film the occasion, and she happily obliged.

“Mija, I’m not exactly getting younger, slow down,” Was the lie he told her – as if he, the one and only Spiderman, could not catch up with a child. Still, he adored playing into Gabriela’s antics.

“Keep your eyes closed, otherwise it’ll be spoiled!”

You smiled at the two of them, cautiously watching from afar, to make sure your daughter didn’t accidentally have Miguel run into a wall or a door – there was no way you’d let something like that ruin the surprise the two of you had spent days preparing.

“Watch your step…” Gabriela muttered, carefully leading her father down the stairs to the rooftop of your building.

A spider-sense would be useful on most occasions, but Miguel found himself trusting you completely. Besides, it’d only ruin the surprise. He didn’t want that. He’d seen the small gestures that were meant to keep him far away, found the both of you whispering and plotting on the couch, only to loudly change topics as soon as he walked in – his wife and daughter were very thorough about this surprise.

“Alright, you can open them in three… two…. One… Sorpresa!” Gabriela yelled excitedly, pointing at the lively scene before her.

The roof was nicely decorated, full of lights and colourful balloons. There was a small table with a very expensive-looking bottle of wine, and his favourite empanadas. Hanging on by a few stripes of colourful tape, was a banner with the words “Congratulations on the promotion!” hand drawn on them.

Miguel was speechless.

He’d confided in you that he was going after a promotion at his job. He started working longer shifts, coming home at the oddest hours, and barely getting any sleep, but it eventually paid off. Not only was his salary better, but he would be able to spend more time at home, spoiling his wife and watching his little girl grow.

A smile graced his features.

“You did all this for me, nena?” He asked, turning to face Gabriela who smiled at him proudly.

She nodded enthusiastically, grabbing him by the hand and pulling him near the table.

“Mama helped! Look, we have all your favourites. I even helped make the empanadas! And we got those crunchy fries you like – see? Congrats Papa!”

It was hard not to feel happy. He had always found his daughter’s happiness to be the most contagious thing in the world, and often found himself indulging in whatever shenanigans she might have, if only it meant keeping a smile on her face. The same applied to you – Miguel was whipped, to say the least.

Which was why everything had become so much harder when the two of you passed away.

Miguel remembers it as if it was yesterday.

An anomaly had broken loose on HQ – a Green Goblin variant, one who wasn’t even supposed to exist, vicious and cruel. It resented being locked up by the leader of the Spider Society and was out to get whatever or whomever he loved the most. This man was cunning. He evaded every single Spiderman Miguel sent after him, even going as far as to almost knocking him unconscious, and, hiding in plain sight, stole whatever records Miguel had on you.

They were mostly safety plans and protocols, but with the help of the technology from his own (somehow inexistent) universe, the Goblin was able to find you and Gabriela. It took a while for Lyla to wake Miguel up. He was nearly out, and those few moments he spent on the floor trying to regain consciousness, had been precious. If it weren’t for those moments, perhaps you’d still be alive.

You were picking her up from school, walking hand in hand as she told you all that happened to her that day, recalling every single detail. You were smiling, and so was she.

As soon as the Goblin left HQ, Miguel knew exactly where he was headed.

From then on, it felt like a race against time.

His heart pounded loudly against his chest – he needed to get you to safety as soon as possible.

Miguel asked (more like demanded) Lyla to call you, and for a few mere seconds, it seemed like everything could work out. He tried to sound as calm as possible; there was no need to freak you out, not when you had Gabriela with you, and the most important thing was getting you to safety.

“Hey honey,” You greeted him with that warm tone, and Miguel could swear he could hear your smile in those words.

“Hi Papa!” Gabriela interjected, to which you chuckled.

“I was just picking her up from school – “

“Mi amor, listen to me, I need you to get Gabriela and hide, right now. Just do as I say, please, find somewhere you can hide, and – “

He was cut off by the sound of a scream, coming from the other side of the phone. A scream that was most likely yours.

He ran faster, swung faster, he as much as flew to you.

But while Miguel tried to hurry the shock up to get to his family, the Green Goblin was already there, frightening you and Gabriela, who had walked inside a bakery to get a treat before heading home. You were standing in front of her, in a feeble attempt to protect your little girl from harm.

“Stay back!” You yelled, removing a small gadget from your pocket. A sort of mix between a gun and a taser, a small invention Miguel had concocted to keep you safe. Should it the target, they’d feel terrible amounts of pain not only from the bullet, but also from the electricity said bullet would shoot through their body. You fired it once. Then twice. Then a third time, but to no avail. The Goblin’s suit was too thick, and you’d perhaps have made the same damage if you threw rocks at him. It was useless.

“Well look who we have here.” His words were acid, disgusting and lethal, and they almost made you cower before him. Almost. You had to be strong for Gabriela. Miguel was sure to be here soon, you knew it. “Such a pretty little thing. And his offspring.” The way he said the word made it seem like he detested the taste of it, and for some reason, it made you stand taller in front of your daughter.

“Let’s see how he likes feeling the same kind of despair I did.” The Goblin snarled, seizing you with only one arm. He was big, bigger than you, bigger than your sweet Miguel – this creature was a monster, and a big one. Grabbing you seemed like an easy task for him.

“Mama!” Gabriela yelled, arms reaching up to try and pull you. It didn’t work.

“Let me go, you disgusting vermin!” You pounded your fists against his chest, tried slapping him, punching him, clawing his eyes out, but it seemed like you were only tiring yourself out instead of harming him. “When Spiderman gets here…”

“Spiderman? Oh, you poor thing. You really think Spiderman will come?”

“He’s here! Spiderman’s coming!” You could hear the relief in Gabriela’s voice.

But that relief did not last long.

The Goblin looked to his side, snarling as soon as he spotted Miguel, who was approaching at an abnormal speed.

“Well, well…” The creature snarled, looking between you and Miguel. “I wish I had more time. I do like a bit of dramatics. Hey Spidey? You watching?” Having said this, the creature strengthened his grip on you, and, after floating a few meters above the ground, released you. Well, he didn’t simply release you. He threw you against the floor with all the strength he could muster.

Time seemed to stop for him.

It was like Miguel could see you in slow motion, tears falling from your eyes as you glanced at him, silently begging him to do something. The life you two had carved with each other flashed before your eyes. Meeting you at that shitty empanada place, bringing you flowers, saying “I do”, holding you tightly as you clutched that positive test in your hands, crying with joy at the sight of you with your daughter, kissing you before going to work. They replayed in his mind repeatedly, and he all but flew in your direction, hoping he would be fast enough to save you.

The loud “thud” coming from below him informed him of otherwise.

In that moment, Miguel didn’t know what to do. He had no idea what had just happened. He couldn’t process the information that was standing right in front of him. You, limbs contorted in a billion different positions, eyes wide open and terrified, a big pool of blood forming by your head.

What was happening? Why were you on the floor? Why weren’t you moving?

Miguel was used to death. He was used to not being able to save everyone – more than once did you have to coax him back to sleep after nightmares, ones that derived from his inability to get every single person to safety. But actually seeing you on the floor like this? It was the hardest thing Miguel had ever tried to process. He had never accepted the idea of you dying. In his mind, he’d always be able to save you.

“Spiderman! Spiderman please – help me!” It was Gabriela’s frightened voice that made him look up from your figure. And he wished he’d done it sooner.

Miguel had to deal with villains and anomalies in a daily basis. Some liked talking. Some liked taunting. Sometimes, these two characteristics managed to buy him some time, managed to get him to save the civilians, to get him to save the day. But this Green Goblin was different. He wasn’t interested in talking. There was no self-centred monologue, no well-crafted speech that allowed him to swoop in and save the innocent passerby. This Green Goblin was out for blood.

“Hey Spidey,” The Goblin was once again floating midair on his platform, holding Gabriela by her neck. Shocking hell, her neck. Miguel used his webs, swinging as fast as he could, following the creature, who, with every word, floated higher and higher. “Remember what you told me back in your little Society? That you would defeat me? What were the words you used? Oh. That’s right, you said you’d crush me.”

Shit, shit, shit. Why was he so damn slow. Why was the Goblin so damn fast. A few more meters and he’d be there. A few more meters and he’d be holding his little girl, he would save his little girl, he’d save her and take her home, everything would be fine –

“I guess I’m the one who’s doing the crushing now.”

A rippling scream came out of his daughter’s mouth.

The kind of sound no parent should hear coming from their child.

He could hear the sound of bones crushing. The sound of breath coming to a halt.

And then, as if the girl was nothing but trash, he released her.

Miguel lunged in her direction, and by some miracle, was able to get a hold of her before she fell to the floor.

“Gabi, Gabi, look at me. Talk to me Gabriela, please.” He mumbled as soon as he safely landed on the floor, hands coming up to check her face. And that’s when his eyes landed on her neck. Her small, frail neck, completely shattered by that monster’s hands.

Miguel doesn’t quite know what happened next. He saw red, and the only thing he remembers, are the limbs of the Green Goblin scattered around the street. Some in his hands. Some on the floor. The creature’s throat was right under his foot.

And what came next was pain.

Unbearable pain.

Learning to live without you and Gabriela had been the hardest thing he had ever done.

In fact, it was so hard, he still didn’t know how to do it.

There were the nightmares, the terrible nightmares he had the first few months. He saw your death in his dreams repeatedly. Miguel couldn’t close his eyes. If he as much as blinked, he would be met with your figure, lying on the floor, lifeless eyes filled with tears, or his daughter’s tiny neck in that horrible position.

It was as if all the good memories he had with you had vanished, giving room to the awful images of your dead bodies.

So, he settled for the videos.

Visual memories of the three of you as a family. Some of you were from Christmas time. Perhaps you were decorating the Christmas tree, as a fitting playlist (most likely chosen by you) played in the background. He had a few of Gabriela opening her presents. Soccer balls and equipment, books on her favourite hobbies, a big teddy bear and other toys a child her age would like.

Videos of the three of you out on dates. At the zoo, pointing at the giraffes and laughing at their silly smiles. At the park, eating ice cream and observing the clouds.

Some videos were just from the two of you. Walks in the park you wished to remember, lazy mornings long before Gabriela was born, where you set the camera on your nightstand and press kiss after kiss against his naked back, picnics on the rooftop of your apartment.

Miguel would forever be grateful to you, for always bringing a camera everywhere you went, or insisting to record every waking moment your family spent together with your phone. It had been these recordings that Miguel turned to on his darkest hours.

Sometimes, Peter B. and the kids found him hunched over his desk, silently crying as he clutched your daughter’s teddy bear in her hands. He would whisper to it, apologising profusely for not being able to save her, for being a terrible father and an even worse superhero. The group had also caught him whispering words to the framed pictures he had of you. He’d cry and ask for forgiveness, ask for advice, ask for a sign that you were still with him, somehow.

It hurt to see Miguel like this.

He refused to be Spiderman for a few days, claiming he wasn’t good enough to protect the city. If he couldn’t protect you and Gabriela, surely that must mean he is not fit to save anyone at all. But with a lot of convincing from Peter, he realised that your deaths were the reason he had to protect the city. To keep things like these from happening ever again.

Miguel looked at the screen in front of him.

You were so gorgeous. You always had been. Even when you looked away in embarrassment, or when you woke up, hair tousled in every direction, or bent over the toilet, puking your guts out. You were so beautiful. Right now, he watched as you helped Gabriela get ready for her birthday party, combing her hair and putting it up on two little pigtails. Your little girl looked radiant. Everyone said she looked like Miguel, but he saw you in her eyes, in the way she smiled, in the way he helped others.

In fact, Miguel saw her everywhere.

He saw her in the gentle way the sun kissed his skin whenever he felt too defeated to wake up. He saw her in the way his pieces of bread looked like funny shapes. He saw her in the way birds played with each other midair, chirping and spreading their wings in a sign of freedom.

And he saw you too.

Whenever the breeze blew lightly against his face, he could swear it was your lips he felt against your temple. Whenever his food was too hot against his tongue, it was as if he could hear you say, “Slow down guapo, the food ain’t going anywhere”. Every time he saved someone, he could hear you, oh so vividly, as you praised him and told him you were proud of him.

Learning to live without you and Gabriela had been the hardest thing he had ever done.

In fact, it was sohard, he still didn’t know how to do it.

But he was learning.

And if his wife and daughter stayed by his side like this – he was sure he could do it.

A/N: That's it! I hope you guys liked it! I can't wait to show you guys what other requests I've been writing. They're all so creative!

Have an amazing day, everyone!

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel o'hara scenarios #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara fanfiction #spiderman 2099 #spiderman 2099 x you #spiderman 2099 x reader #miguel ohara #atsv x reader #atsv x you #across the spiderverse #astv x y/n #astv fanfic #spiderverse x reader #spiderverse fanfiction #miguel ohara x reader #miguel spiderman #miguel spiderverse #miguel astv

[simp4wom3n]

The Quiet One Pt.II

Pairing: Tara Carpenter x fem!reader

Requested: Yes/No

Summary: After losing Dewey right in front of their eyes, y/n decides to try and run away with the only other person she can trust. That plan however, turns sideways as Tara and y/n experience yet another real-life nightmare. ~ Word Count: 6.319k ~ Warnings: swearing, a lot of description of blood and gore, scream 5 spoilers obvi

A/N: HELLLO pt2 is finally hereeeeee!! I'm sorry it took me so long uni work has been killing me + I think this might be my longest fic yet so. Hopefully, you guys enjoy it and I did end up listening to the poll so hopefully everyone is happy with the ending <3

Pt1 ~ Pt2 ~ Pt3 ~ Pt4 ~ Pt5

"I would fucking love to."

"Let's get you out of here then", Sam smiles at you, a stray tear escaping your weak grasp at her soft words. She gives your hand one last gentle squeeze before she stands up to get the nurse, your soft gaze shifting to Tara, whose warm smile still adorned her face. Your eyes scanned her tired features, the mental and physical weight of the situation clearly catching up to her - and yet her smile still managed to set your body alight.

When Sam returns with the nurse, you gingerly sit up as they help you swing your legs off the side of the hospital bed. With Sam holding one arm and the nurse on the other, they balance you as your feet touch the ground, your knees shaking slightly as you stand up. You chuckle lightly when the young nurse hands you a black walking stick. You catch Tara choking down her laugh in your peripherals, causing you to playfully glare at her as you try to get used to walking again.

After some initial help from the nurse, you were allowed to leave. When you walked towards Tara on your own, hobbling like a stiff post due to your aching torso, she offered you another small smile before teasing your rigid form. "Hey there, old man". She chuckled at her comment as you made your way towards the elevator, your mouth dropping in feign offence as you placed your hand over your heart. "Jeez, It's good to see you too."

You were so focused on not falling on your face when you all entered the lobby that you didn't notice the two familiar figures watching you as you approached the door. It wasn't until the Sidney Prescott approached the four of you that you lifted your head away from your walking stick, your eyes widening considerably when you noticed Gale sat just behind her.

The familiar burn of tears returned as your eyes lingered on Gale, and as her broken eyes met yours, you ripped your gaze away from her as your tears escaped down your cheeks. You had no idea whether Gale knew who you were, hell, you didn't really care if she did or not, but you certainly knew who she was. You and Dewey were each other's safe haven; for every piece of information you ranted to him about, he returned in the same volume, meaning that you had heard many of Dewey's rants about his ex-wife.

Knowing how strongly Dewey felt for Gale only made your heart ache more as waves of grief started crashing down on you. The more you tried to grasp that you had lost the one person who had always been there for you, the further you sank into the endless depths of grief, the ice-cold water infiltrating your lungs as you started to drown.

You were the first out the door when Richie suggested that the three of you bring the car around, the rush of fresh air causing your tensed muscles to relax slightly as you slowly inhaled. Richie was leading the way to the car with Tara in front of him, leaving you trailing behind with nothing but the sound of your stick connecting with the cold concrete beneath you and an emotionless and blank stare on your face.

As Richie helps Tara out of her wheelchair and into the backseat of Sam's car, you cautiously lower yourself next to her, a huff escaping your mouth when you're finally seated. You close the door before letting your head fall back in exhaustion, your eyes glued shut as you attempt to take the world's shortest power nap, the tidal wave of emotions finally starting to drain away.

Even as the car started moving, your eyes remained shut as your breathing began to steady, continuing to be blissfully unaware of Tara's worried gaze. It wasn't until Richie honked the horn obnoxiously that you finally opened your eyes. Catching a glimpse of Gale and Sidney, who continue to talk to Sam, makes you immediately regret looking out the window.

Turning away from the window, your eyes land on Tara, who had been sending you a worried gaze. "You okay?" she asks, her voice so soft that you almost miss her. The corner of your lips flutter with the essence of a smile as you send her a slight nod, your heart singing at her gentle words.

"Let's get the fuck out of town, huh?". Internally chuckling at Richie's words, you watch the two women try to stop Sam from leaving, failing horribly as she moves to get in the car. "No. We're leaving. That's the only way I can protect Tara.". You cast a hesitant glance in Tara's direction, her face dropping ever so slightly as her sister's words sink in.

Those exact words had you on the verge of tears once more. You had no idea where Sam had been all this time, having never met her before. Still, Tara obviously meant a lot to her, which made you both feel relieved that Tara was receiving the love she deserved and jealous that you lacked that same unconditional love.

You wanted to be cared for and loved - and not because they felt bad for you.

Obviously noticing the absent look on your face, Tara inhales slowly, trying to compose herself, before she gently reaches for your hand. You flinch slightly at the contact, not used to the affectionate and comforting gesture, but you take her hand nonetheless. Your heart is pounding as her fingers interlock with yours, and she gently squeezes your hand.

As Sam got into the car, she explained what Gale and Sidney wanted, and whilst you understood where they were coming from, there was no way you were letting whatever psycho was behind that mask take the only two people in this fucked up world that you cared about - one was already too many.

"Fuck that. Let's go."

The silence of the car trip was both eerie and serene. Both you and Tara had been tenderly looking at each other in silence for minutes on end, your eyes glancing back and forth between her flawless features and your conjoined hands.

Whilst losing Dewey was easily one of, if not the worst thing that has happened to you, as you admire Tara in the backseat of her sister's car, the passing street lights dimly lighting her face, you finally face the thought that you could have lost her too.

"I'm really happy that you're ok." you whisper, trying to hold onto your emotions as you swallow the lump in your throat. "I don't know what I would do if I lost you too". Squeezing your hand gently in response to your words, Tara looks similarly overwhelmed with emotions, her breathing becoming erratic.

"I don't know what I would've done if I lost you either", she responds breathlessly, her hand finally slipping out of yours as her attention shifts to her packed bag. Her sentimental words fail to sink in as you worriedly watch her search through her bag in a panic.

"Fuck, where is it?" "Where's what?" you asked worriedly, her frantic search causing your heart to race with anxiety. "My inhaler. I usually keep an extra one." "Should we go back" Sam chimes in, which causes both you, and apparently Richie, to internally panic. "Whoa, okay. I vote for not going back to the murder hospital" he speaks as if stealing the words from your mouth. "Should we stop at a pharmacy?" Sam suggests. "I'd need a prescription, but I left one at Amber's."

The pounding of your chest grew as you diverted your eyes outside the window. Just when you thought you had finally escaped Amber's murderous gaze, here you were finding out that not only were you probably about to go pay her a visit, but for Tara to have left a spare inhaler at her house, they must have been close - closer than you would like to imagine.

The thought made your body burn in unwarranted jealousy. You scolded yourself for feeling such a childish emotion. After all, you were the one who started ignoring her, not the other way around. "Is there seriously no other way we can get you one?" you spoke sharply, earning a confused glare from Tara at your tone. You refused to look at her as you felt her eyes scanning your side profile, your clenched jaw apparently obvious as her gaze softened slightly, "No..."

You slowly nodded your head in defeat as your heart plummeted. Your body clenched in agony as you turned back to the car window to watch the passing scenery in an effort to block out Richie's request for the location.

You would have preferred the murder hospital.

"Oh, perfect. She's having a party"

The loud music echoed through the car's closed windows as it came to a stop. The modest home on a dark and ominous street was now full of drunk teens who, for some unknown reason, decided to gather during the middle of a killing spree.

"I'll go in quickly and get it. I'll be back in five" "I'm coming too." Tara moves to unbuckle her seatbelt as Sam gets out of the car. "I'm coming with you" You follow Tara's movements as you unbuckle your seatbelt, albeit a bit more stiffly than Tara, a dull ache still in your torso.

Your words had caught Tara off-guard, her eyes studying you for a moment before she exited the car with Sam's help. She knew how you felt about Amber, how uncomfortable she made you. Even from miles away, she could tell how your body shifted uncomfortably whenever she was around you or how your usually lively expression would drop instantly when you caught a glimpse of her - or at least that was before you stopped talking to her.

Situated with her crutches under her arms, she looks over at you as you pull yourself out of the car, your posture still incredibly rigid as you close the door behind you and walk hesitantly around the vehicle until you are standing next to her.

"You ok?" she asks faintly, a hint of concern evident in her tone despite her inability to walk. "Yeah... You?" The ghost of a smile passes over your lips as your eyes meet hers, the softness in her gaze causing your heart to melt. "Yeah", she nods, her lips creeping upwards before Sam pulls her attention away from you.

The blaring music overwhelms your already delicate senses, the coloured lights straining your eyes as everyone starts the cheer at Tara's arrival. Although you felt like you were going into sensory overload, you couldn't help but admire how Tara looked under the euphoric lighting. Her typically gorgeous features now completely captivate you as you stare in awe - how could someone be so fucking perfect.

Your blissful admiring ended abruptly as Amber pushed her way through the crowd. "What are you doing out of the hospital? Should you even be up and around?" she said as she hugged Tara, your eyes averting themselves away from their affectionate embrace.

"I need my spare inhaler." "Why? where are you going?" You notice Tara's eyes shift towards Sam, who shakes her head at the question - a relief, considering you really didn't want Amber to know where you were going. "It's fine. Don't tell me. I get it. Just be safe, ok?.... I think it's in my room."

You couldn't help but scoff at her words. Of course it was in her room. Where else would it be. Your internal rant about how insufferable Amber was was sadly cut off by her words, "All right, everyone! Thanks for coming, but the party's over!" As you leant on your walking stick, your brows furrowed as the music stopped playing and the confused and angry calls of the partygoers came from all directions.

'Why is she ending the party?'. As far as you knew, she didn't need to do that. All she needed to do was disappear into her room for a minute to get the inhaler, and you would all be on your merry way. You now watched as everyone started to walk out the door, but your eyes were drawn to Tara as she shifted uncomfortably at Richie's mention of her attack. 'Prick'

Amber captured her attention as she rubbed her back sympathetically, earning herself a small smile from the girl. Your scowl grew due to the interaction, and your feet now carried you instinctively towards the one person left who meant anything to you.

"Can we just get the inhaler and get the fuck out of here" you interrupted, both of the girl's eyes landing on you with confused expressions - and a hint of anger on Ambers's part. "Sure thing, ghost face... but you're staying right here, away from Tara." her harsh words stung, your pained gaze landing on Tara, who simply looked at you blankly.

You tried to find words before Tara eventually spoke up, "Just stay here, y/n I'll be fine." she spoke plainly, already moving away from you with Amber on her tail. "You sure?" you call out. Tara turned her head back towards you with a small smile.

"I'll be right back I promise."

Sam was pacing around the house as you stood awkwardly in the entryway, shifting your weight between your stick and your feet as you tested whether you could walk without the irritating clicking that now followed your every step. If you were honest with yourself, you just wanted to leave. You wanted to run after Tara and pull her out of this goddamn house.

You obviously didn't know the layout of this house, but you were sure there was no way she could have taken this long to just grab her inhaler and go. You tapped your finger anxiously against the handle of your walking stick as Sam walked towards you, yelling, "Tara! We're leaving!". 'About time', you thought before you heard a phone start to ring.

You watched as Sam pulled out her phone, staring at it hesitantly before she inevitably pulled it up to her ear. "Hello?" you always hated only being able to hear one end of the phone call, but this one particularly angered you as you stared expectantly at Sam. "How do you know where I am?"

Silence.

You watch Sam's eyes flash with fear, her face going blank as she slowly scans her surroundings. As she finally stops still, terror overtaking her features, you begin to panic. "Sam? Sam, what's going on?" She blinks out of her trance, her mouth ajar as she sputters. "We have to get the fuck out of here."

As the last words left her mouth, a high-pitched scream pierced the air, followed by the sounds of furniture breaking, shattering the overbearing silence of the house. Sam bolts in the direction of the screams whilst you, being far less mobile, stumble in no particular direction, your head whipping around for any evidence of where Amber's room might be as your desperation to find Tara reaches your bursting point.

Eventually, stumbling into what looks like the living room, broken lamps and blood splatters covering a corner of the room. In that same corner, you notice Sam standing over Mindy's weakening figure. "No, Mindy, stay with me." You hobble further into the room, using the remaining furniture to support yourself as you make your way over to Mindy as quickly as possible.

Just as you make it over to the two girls, now covered in blood, you hear another piercing scream from behind you, causing your head to whip in its direction. "What did you do to her!?" Amber screams angrily as she storms into the room. 'Wait, is that Ta-' your thoughts are cut off as Amber throws you into the wall, her eyes staring daggers into your own.

You grunt in pain as Amber presses you into the wall, her hands gripping your shirt as your torso erupts in pain, causing your words to catch in your throat. "N-nothing. No, I didn't do anything." She scoffed before she let you fall to the floor, a whimper escaping your lips as you landed with a thud.

Curled up with your back against the wall, you squeezed your eyes shut in pain as your body throbbed. Feeble whimpers escaped your throat as your mind fogged over, the rapidly approaching clicks of crutches flying over your dazed head.

"God, Y/n!" your eyes crept open at the sound of a familiar voice calling your name. You watched as Tara made her way over to you in a panic. You couldn't tell whether it was the traces of painkillers left in your system making you loopy or whether you were just that desperate to feel like someone cared about you, but you couldn't help but admire her as she 'ran' over to you, her face painted with fear and yet you found it kinda cute.

She was stopped in her tracks when the sound of glass breaking echoed through the room. You silently scoffed as Amber stood protectively next to Tara, everyone's eyes darting towards Richie, who stood at the kitchen door with a broken beer bottle at his feet.

"What the fuck?" "Richie, where the fuck were you?!" Whilst everyone shouted at each other and Liv had at some point stumbled into the room, fuelled by pure desperation and jealousy, whilst Amber threw names around, you tried your best to stand up and close the remaining distance between you and Tara. Pushing with all the strength you had left in your legs, you managed to grasp onto a wooden set of draws and pull yourself up, now resting against them.

"Fuck you, Amber. I'm not the fucking killer!" Liv screamed in agony as you finally returned your attention to the chaos unfolding before you. Tara was already glancing at you with fear written all over her face as you glanced back and forth between her and the other group members.

"I know"

Liv's body fell to the floor with a loud thud as the sound of a gunshot filled the room. Breathing heavily, your eyes widened as they darted towards Amber, a smug smirk on her face as she proudly swung the gun around and pointed it directly at you.

"Welcome to act three"

You think you hear Richie scream 'Run', but as your eyes stare down the barrel of her gun, you remain frozen. A wave of nostalgia washes over you as your stitched wounds start to burn at the memory of the very night in the hospital. It slowly sank in that Amber was behind the mask that night.

The one that stabbed you mercilessly whilst undoubtedly plastering a smile all over her sick face.

The one that killed Dewey and, in doing so, took everything away from you.

The one that was about to kill you.

Your face was emotionless as she smirked at you. You had accepted your fate. The world hated you, so why not let it take you. Anticipating a bullet straight to the head like Liv had suffered moments ago, you were surprised when the gunshot went off, and your lights weren't immediately turned off.

Instead, you watched Tara intervene at the last second, putting Amber off as the bullet missed your head. You would have sighed in relief if your leg hadn't collapsed. Dropping onto the wooden floor, you gasp in pain as your eyes divert to your thigh, which is now spewing blood

"Y/n!" you hear Tara desperately cry, your eyes diverting away from the gaping hole in your leg to land on her tormented figure as Amber drags her out of the room. "Tara! Tara, no!" You attempt to push yourself off the floor, getting up onto your hands and knees as you work up the strength to follow her.

"Y/n! please!" she screams again, her voice becoming more distant every second. Sucking in a deep breath, you struggle to pull your good leg up from beneath you before your hand slips in your own pool of blood, causing you to fall flat on your stomach.

"No... N-No" you cry softly as you bleed out helplessly on the floor.

The sound of a distant gunshot causes your eyes to shoot open. The house has been eerily quiet for the past few minutes. When two more gunshots ring out, you turn your head from your position on the floor, attempting to see if you can see anything through the doorway.

The sound of approaching footsteps catches your attention as Amber appears from around the corner, gun still in hand. When she spots your fragile figure lying in a small pool of blood, she tilts her head playfully as the corner of her lips crack into a smirk.

Taking slow, calculated steps towards you, she crouches in front of you so her eyes meet yours. "Oh y/n... y/n, y/n, y/n." She taunted as you chewed on your bottom lip, knowing that if you made a snarky remark, she wouldn't hesitate to put a bullet right between your eyes.

"This feels awfully familiar, but I can't seem to think where from... Oh yeah, that's right... the hospital" she chuckles as you begin to cry, a solemn tear falling down the side of your face. "Look at you, so pathetic... Dewey can't save you now, can he." Any grip you had on your emotions was broken as soon as his name left her mouth.

"Fuck you", you spat, your body now seething with a mixture of anger and heartbreak. "Aw, aren't you feisty? You know, normally, I would just shoot you right now, kill you while I have the chance, but... I don't know, I think I'd rather see you die slowly... painfully."

She gave you a sarcastic pat on the shoulder as she stood back up and walked away, probably going to put her costume on. The eerie silence returns as Amber disappears, the front door opening, which you presumed was her leaving to continue her bloodbath. However, when you heard what sounded like Sidney calling out, your head lifted in hope.

"Anyone hiding, killer or not, you have five seconds to show yourself!", "In here! I'm over here! Help me, please." you begged as you continued to keep pressure on your bullet wound. When Sidney enters the room, you let out a wet chuckle in relief before she points the gun at you.

You raise your spare hand up in surrender, your eyes pleading with her for her help. You see her eyes flash in recognition. Although extremely hesitant at first, she eventually takes one last glance over her shoulder before she comes closer to you, kneeling down next to you as her eyes follow your hands to your thigh. She sucks a breath in as she reaches for a blanket on the couch behind her, tearing off a strip of its fabric before she ties it tightly around your leg, causing you to hiss in pain.

As soon as she tied the knot, she quickly got back to her feet and had her gun ready. "Stay here, okay?" You nod softly as she retreats from the room, a soft thank you escaping your lips as she disappears further into the house.

Staring at the ceiling, your hands sticky and painted a crimson red, you take slow, steady breaths to calm your racing heart. With numerous gunshots ringing through the house as Sidney undoubtedly searches every inch of it, you take in what will most likely be your last peaceful moments, knowing that this nightmare will only get worse.

Your suspicions were confirmed when the ground shook violently underneath you, the sound of gasps and groans accompanying it as your ears perked up in concern. Despite being riddled with pain, your leg feeling like a dead weight on your already weakened body, you push yourself up off the ground, grunting as you finally reach your feet.

Using the remnants of furniture as your crutch, you limp towards the commotion as a steady stream of blood escapes from your tourniquet, painting a thin red path down your leg. Your head spins as your heavy blood loss starts to take its toll, your eyesight becoming blurry as you eventually slump against the doorway leading towards the home's entrance.

"Yes! Yes!" "Shoot him!" Your jaw went slack as your eyes focused on what was happening before you. You watched as Sam stood over ghost face, who you presumed was Amber, with a gun pointed towards their head. You couldn't help but sigh slightly in relief at the thought of Amber getting what was coming to her, but that was cut short as Richie forced a knife into Sam's side.

A gasp fell from your lips. Both you and Sam are in complete disbelief. "I really, really wanted to be the one to kill you." You cringe in pain as Richie twists the knife in Sam's torso, the girl screaming in agony as her knees buckle underneath her. The smile on Richie's face made you sick, diverting your eyes away from the pair to try and escape the torturous sight.

However, you didn't find any relief as your eyes landed on Amber as she took off her mask before grabbing the gun from Richie's hand. She smirks at you as she harshly grabs Sidney's hair, pulling her head back so she grunts in pain and points the gun at you again.

Your strength starts to drain from your legs as you slowly slide down the wall, your face becoming a ghostly white as you slump against the floor. Your breathing is laboured as you look back towards Sam, your drooping eyes opening in disgust as Richie pulls Tara's inhaler out of his pocket.

"I can't believe this worked", he said, chuckling maniacally. "You son of a bitch!" you berated him from your place on the floor, staring at Richie with pure hatred burning behind your eyes, begging to be set free.

This was the last time you would let them take advantage of Tara.

"Where is Tara!? Where the fuck is she!? What did you do to her!?" you continued to yell, moving from your place on the wall to try and reach Amber, only for her to hit you across the face with her gun, your back violently falling onto the floor.

"Why do you care so much about her, huh? It's not like she cares about you. Why would she? Hell, I don't even know how she tolerated you... but if you seriously think Tara likes you, oh y/n, you've got another thing coming" Your eyes swam with tears, her words reawakening your most significant doubt about every 'friendship' you had ever had.

Why the fuck would they like you?

"Let's get'em into the kitchen"

"Dewey had to die to make it real. To show that this wasn't just some bullshit, cash-in, run-of-the-mil sequel". Pushed up against the kitchen counter, Amber points a bloodied knife dangerously close to your face as she yells her so-called 'reasoning' for taking your best friend's life, your adopted father, the one person you could wholly rely on.

Her and Richies speech had gone straight over your head, your mind instead focusing on Tara's absence from what would appear a vital part of their plan where they wanted everyone alive to be. They even brought an injured Gale into the conversation, perhaps just to taunt her about Dewey, but it still left you panicking. You had had enough of their useless justification.

You had to find Tara dead or alive - preferably the latter.

"Because our movie has fucking stakes! Cause anyone can die in a requel" As Amber turns her head away from you, you take your opportunity as you reach for a knife left carelessly on the counter. Your fingertips graze the knife's handle as Amber's is shoved into your torso, a hoarse groan escaping your throat as your legs buckle underneath you at the burning pain.

At this point, your entire body is riddled with pain. Your stitches stretch with each way you turn, your legs throb with every step you take, and now with every heavy breath you inhale, your torso burns in agony, the familiar crimson liquid cascading down your body one too many times.

"Whoa, whoa, who do we have here?" Richie mocks as he kneels down in front of you. "Y/n was it?... well y/n, I'm so sorry, but we can't let you live either, can we? I mean..." he humorously chuckles, "you weren't even supposed to be here in the first place... but now that you're here, the more bodies, the better." he smiles at you as if he thinks he is doing you a favour, the bitter taste of defeat begins to resurface as you squeeze your eyes and drop your head.

"Get Tara out of the closet. We got to start staging the bodies!" Your eyes dart towards Richie as Tara's name leaves his mouth, the desperation of your movement causing your head to spin. "What the fuck did you do to her!" You screamed brokenly at him as Amber left the room, your voice cracking in pure exhaustion and fear. His previously playful look turned dark as he stared at you menacingly.

He playfully juggled the gun between his hands before shoving the barrel point-blank between your eyes. "You wanna say that again?" he smirks arrogantly, both of you knowing he has all the power in this situation. With the pistol pushing against your forehead, the barrel still warm from its recent kills, you aggressively bite your lip as you swallow down all the words on the verge of spilling out of your mouth.

"Um, she's not here." You hear Amber shout from a different area of the house. You watch as the smug look on Richie's face quickly drops as he gets back to his feet, his pistol still aimed at your head. "What the fuck do you mean 'she's not here'?" "She's not here!" Your head turned to Sam in conclusion, the hint of a smirk evident on her face causing your own to begin to grow on your lips.

"I untied her." You couldn't help but chuckle at her words. You push yourself back, so your back is leaning against the kitchen cabinets, your body naturally relaxing in relief as the thought of Tara being alive becomes much more realistic.

"Guess you're not as persuasive as you thought" "Fucking idiot", you laughed, the agony your body was in turning into some kind of high as a giddy smile crept onto your tired features. You giggled weakly, blissfully unaware of Richies approaching figure until his face was a few inches in front of yours.

He didn't say anything, instead swinging his armed hand across your face violently, the blunt end of the pistol connecting harshly with your cheekbone as your head turned sideways at the force. You weakly reached your hand towards your now stinging cheek, your fingers gently travelling across a new cut that painted your fingers red.

Your eyes were pulled away from your newly painted fingers when you heard Amber's shouts interrupted by a loud thud. The sound of a struggle echoed through the house and into the kitchen as Richie tried to hide the worry evident on his face as his plan unravelled before him.

"Amber?" he called cautiously as he looked in the direction the girl had gone, leaving the four of you now unnoticed. With him distracted, Sam takes her opportunity to try and grab the gun from Richie's hand. A stray gunshot goes off as Sam tackles him to the ground. You watch as the two of them struggle before, as quickly as you physically can, you frantically crawl out of the kitchen, determined to find Tara.

In your admittedly weak and dazed state, the halls and rooms of Amber's house turned into a maze. Each corner you turned and each room you checked came up empty - and you had no fucking clue where you were. You had been silently stumbling around the dark house, avoiding and hiding from the screaming and shouting coming in the direction you thought was the kitchen.

"Tara?" "Tara, where are you?" "Tara come on, where are you?" "Please, where are you?" you desperately whispered as you navigated the house. With each step you took, you could feel your body growing weaker, your adrenaline beginning to wear off as your energy finally began to deplete.

The echoing of screams and gunshots, as much as you wanted to ignore them, eventually pulled your attention away from your distraught search for Tara. After all, for all you knew, she was the source of said screams, a thought which made your stomach twist in fear.

With a thick trail of blood following your every move, you essentially drag yourself towards the sound of Richie's maniacal laughter. Now apparently incapable of feeling shocked, you eventually find yourself watching blankly as Richie leans over Sam's figure with a gun to her throat.

"Never fuck with the daughter of a serial killer."

You stare, amazed, as Sam begins to 'stab the shit' out of Richie, blood splattering all over the girl's figure as the pool of blood underneath Richie's now mutilated body grows. When she slits his throat, his body begins to seize underneath her as she glares at his dying figure with a vengeful look on her blood-covered face.

Stumbling as she stands up from his body, you limp towards her, the sound of your heavy footsteps catching her attention as she looks over at you. You watch her eyes flash with relief at the sight of you still alive, her lips twitching ever so slightly upwards as you finally reach her side.

The sound of footsteps coming from the kitchen caused both of your heads to turn in fear, a feeling which instantly dissolved as you watched Gale and Sidney walk in behind you, eyes fixated on Richie's body.

"Careful, they always come back." You turn your head away and squeeze your eyes shut as you hear Sam fire three shots into Richie's mangled body, the sound of his blood squelching sending shivers down your spine. After a beat of silence, you look back at Tara's older sister, a new sense of fear reawakening.

"W-Where's Tara?" you ask shakily, Sam's face similarly painted in worry as tears flow down your cheeks. "W-Where the f-fuck is she? Please s-someone t-tell me where s-she is" you begged, looking between the three women surrounding you.

None of them answered you.

"I-I need to find Tara." you said flatly, moving to limp away from the group before your plans were cut short by a harrowing scream. Your widened eyes watch as a disgustingly disfigured Amber comes running at you from the kitchen, a blade in hand as she causes you to stumble back in shock.

Her rampage was quickly ended by yet another gunshot, this time not from one of the girls around you. With a confused look on your distraught face, your eyes dart towards where the bullet came from.

Tara.

You let out a heavy sigh as you spot her shaky figure holding up a smoking gun. "I still prefer the Babadook", she inhales shakily after her words, finally lowering the gun as the realisation that both of the psychos behind the masks were finally dead.

You let out a wet chuckle in relief as you breathlessly limp towards her. She meets you in the middle, where despite your numerous injuries, you wrap her in a crushing embrace, sobbing into her shoulder in pure happiness. "A-are you okay?" you whisper shakily into her ear. She nods as she pulls back slightly, your teary eyes meeting hers as you give her your best attempt at a comforting smile.

"Are you good?" she asks you, her fear still evident in her tone. Your hands are clutched to her clothes as you nod in response, desperate to shut up the terrified part of your brain that thinks all this is too good to be true.

Your eyes soften in her gaze, all the pain throughout your body melting away as Tara hesitantly reaches her hands towards your face, resting gently on either side as her thumb caresses your cheek. She stares at you momentarily with a euphoric look on her face, her eyes scanning yours for any sense of discomfort.

You were moments from pulling away when you noticed her gaze flicker down towards your lips. Catching your bottom lip between your teeth, butterflies erupt in your wounded stomach, and your breath catches in your throat as your eyes now risk a glance at her delicate lips.

Deciding she had waited long enough, Tara eagerly pulls your face towards her own as her lips capture yours in a desperate kiss. Despite having wanted this to happen for longer than you could remember, the feeling of her warm lips against yours surprises you, nothing but her overwhelming your senses.

Your hands snake around her waist, forming a tight grip, your lips beginning to move against hers with a renewed passion whilst remaining gentle in both of your fragile states. As your pace began to slow and your harboured breathing mirrored hers, you entered a state of pure bliss.

You couldn't fucking believe this was happening.

Unfortunately, due to your shared need for oxygen, Tara's soft lips hesitantly left yours as your foreheads remained connected. As your e/c eyes met hers once again, a giddy smile overtook your tired features as the realisation that Tara does like you back sinks in.

She was alive, and she was with you.

And that was all you could possibly ask for.

Tag-list:@nitchxhdc @emeraldevan @looseheartedlady @the-night-owl-blr @badassjaguar @txmxav @oh-thats-cute @blckrwidow @cacciatricediartemide @flaiire1805 @rainbow-love4ever @fall-08 @simp4nat @natashadeservedmore @livingforwaddams @alexkolax @ssinfulprayers @wifeyjennaortega @thenextdawn @zhasmindoesntknow @faunusrubyrose @harleyspunchingbag @yourmamacom @rockwyn @androgynouscloudenemy @padf00ts-l0ver @wol-fica @captainbeat

#jenna ortega angst #jenna ortega x fem reader #jenna ortega x reader #tara carpenter #tara carpenter x fem reader #tara carpenter x reader #jenna ortega #jenna ortega imagine #tara carpenter imagine #scream 5 #scream 6 #scream #scream 2022

[watermelonsugacry]

i’m getting the feeling that matilda is about 1d!reader, and i already know that it’s gonna break me

Building Harry's House: Matilda

A/N: Sorry this took forever to post but uni work is choking me without a sea view rn so tysm for being patient lovies 💚

SUMMARY: With the world knowing of their once secret relationship, Harry and YN navigate life together as an official couple and everything that comes with it. (9.6k)

GENRE: 1dbandmember!reader, famous!yn

WARNING: mention of abuse (yn gets slapped), excessive drinking, mention of drugs

Previous Song Here!🍷// Building Harry's House masterlist // SINCE 2010 masterlist

SIDE-NOTE: italicized is voice over commentary (I wrote this kind of like the Behind the Album documentary) bold are things Harry actually said irl

Consistency is something that has always been a part of the spine in YN’s storybook. No matter how many years go by, Penny remains a burst of sunshine with a kaleidoscope of colors—Harry can see how YN came to have her own golden light.

Harry turns the wheel of the car with the palm of his hand and parks into the gravel driveway of Penny’s house. When YN finally saved up enough money to take her mum out of the rickety house she grew up in, she made sure to tell Penny that she could have any place she wanted—it didn’t even have to be in London anymore if that’s what she truly desired. Of course, her stepmum opted for a cottage in the countryside along with a forest for a backyard and greenery as far as the eyes can see. Colorful, homemade pottery, wind chimes, and furniture scatter the front porch, adding Penelope’s psychedelic touch to every little thing that YN’s seen since she was little. 

Harry’s been aware of how quiet his love’s been during their travels. After the unexpected phone call from her father in Italy, he didn’t hesitate to pack their things when she said she wanted to see her stepmum. He immediately called his private pilot and made plans to head to Doncaster as soon as possible. 

He watches as she exits the car without so much of a peep out of her mouth. He follows behind her as they make their way up the stone walkway that leads to the front of the house covered in greenery, much like YN’s home back in LA. He sees how YN pushes her fingers against the glass windchimes on the front porch before twisting the handle on the front door and walking in. 

He sees her stepmum round the hallway corner in a tank top that showcases the few tattoos she has scattered along her arms and tracksuit pants, her face bare and glowing. Her bare feet pad across the tiled floor as she readjusts her long black hair in a ponytail. When she kisses her stepdaughter’s cheek in greeting, Harry notices the yoga mat farther into the small living room. 

The place screams Penny: bohemian rugs, funky lamp shades and handmade paintings hung on every space the wall can fit.

After receiving the warmest welcome and being served tea out of her mismatched colorful mugs, the seal in YN’s silent mask finally cracks and it has her pacing across the kitchen floor. As he watches his love spill out everything on her mind that she’s kept in for the past two days and he can do nothing but lean against the doorframe of the kitchen and listen.

“Like, what could he possibly want from me? Money? Fame? A relationship with his daughter after eleven fookin’ years?” YN huffs out a laugh at the thought of her last suggestion with her hands on her hips. “Dunno how this bloke even got me personal number. That’s some hacker shite right there. And now I gotta change my number again and make sure that—”

“I gave him your number.” Penny blurts out from her seat at the table, making YN stop her pacing in the middle of the room. Her breathing stops altogether and the room goes silent with a faint sound of the glass windchimes from outside. Even Harry’s eyebrows furrow from his spot leaning against the doorframe of the kitchen.

“Whot? Wha—why the hell would you do that, Penny?” YN shakes her head as she tries to wrap her head around the fact that her step mum gave the one person she never wants to see again a leeway into her life.

“Look, I don’t support what he did or how he raised you—”

“He didn’t fookin’ raise me.”

“But he’s changed.”

“That’s like, the most bullshit reasoning anyone has ever given. And how would you even know that? Have you been talking to him?”

Penny fidgets with a strand of her long black hair and twists the ends as she mumbles out, “He’s reached out once or twice.”

“What the ‘ell? Whose side are you even on?”

With a hand on his hip, his other rubs against the stubble on his cheek as he watches the two women dispute back and forth. He doesn’t know if he should leave to give them some privacy or stay in case anything gets out of hand. 

He hates to see his love this way, pacing with frustrated fingers twisting the rings on her fingers so much that they’re sure to leave red marks on her skin. The crease between her eyebrows begging to be soothed out by his lips and the harsh nails raking through her hair demands to be switched with his gentle ones—the kind that has her falling asleep almost instantly.

“I was in the hippie scene, YN! I was young and naive and I fell in love with this bloke. I didn’t know what I wanted or what was right or what was wrong. But the one thing I knew for fooking sure was wanting you to be in me life.” Penny sighs out as she composes herself. “Look, you know I would never do anything to hurt yeh. He first reached out months ago; s’not like he called yesterday and I gave him yeh number willy nilly.”

“So what are yeh saying? That I actually go pay this man a little visit?” Before Penny could even begin her suggestion, YN scoffs and immediately shakes her head. “No.”

“YN—”

“No, not happening. No way.”

When Harry sees her stepmum let out a deep sigh and rubs a smoothing hand over her forehead, he thinks now might be a time for him to step in.

“YN, maybe you should listen to yeh mum—”

“Stay out of this, Harry!” YN snaps at him without so much as a second thought. “This is none of yeh damn business.”

“YN!” Penny scolds her stepdaughter but it’s no use as YN storms off to the backyard. It’s a rare thing for either one of them to snap at each other but when one does, it can be quite scary. Their last big argument was well over a year ago during the making of Harry’s last album and they’ve made it a habit not to revert back to their shitty way of communication. He almost lost her then and he’s sure as hell not going to let her go now. 

Penelope turns to Harry with a sorrowful expression, “Yeh did nothing wrong, Harry. She’s just stu—”

“Stubborn. Yeah, I know.” With a shrug of his shoulder and a sad smile, he says, “S’unfortunately, one of the things I love about her.” 

...

After walking off some of the steam around the massive yard, YN stumbles upon the garage she helped her stepmum convert into an art studio. Canvases the size of her line up against the wall (a painting in the works up on an easel), buckets of paints and brushes scattered every which way, and a pottery wheel in the center of the room. 

With her arms wrapped around herself, she walks along the shelving filled with miscellaneous items: Penny’s homemade ceramic creations, funky decor pieces, plants, books and the picture they used for the Story of My Life music video framed and displayed front and center.

She runs her finger across the array of books on the shelves, stopping and pulling out a particular book.

“Find anything yeh like?” YN looks up and gives her stepmum a small smile.

“Yeh still have this?” YN waves her old copy of Matilda. The pages were so well loved that one wrong blow of the wind could have the cover fall off of its spine.

“Of course, yeh wouldn’t let that thing go.” Penny takes a cautious step towards her stepdaughter and puts a gentle hand on her shoulder, “But there are some things that you just have let go, right?”

Penny’s ready for the young woman to blow up again, sigh out in frustration, and even walk out of the room. But it’s safe to say that she wasn’t expecting for her to look at her with glossy eyes and a trembling bottom lip.

“I'm scared, mum.” YN whispers out and Penny wastes no time pulling her into her arms.

“It’s okay to be scared, baby.” She reassures her stepdaughter. “But yeh don’t have to be. You have to choose whether or not you want him to have that power over yeh. You are so strong, so courageous. M’sorry that I didn’t warn you beforehand.”

“S’okay,” YN pulls back as she wipes at her cheeks. “If yeh would have warned me I would just keep avoiding him. I think it's a sign, right?"

“Follow yeh heart, baby. You know what to do." Penny brushes the strands of hair away from her daughter's face in a comforting way. "Have yeh told him about what happened?” She doesn't need to say his name for YN to know who she's referring to.

“Does he need to know?” Even YN cringes her face up at her words, already knowing the answer to her question. She blindly points to the general direction of the backyard. "M'gonna go talk to him."

Harry can’t help but think of how much Penny’s house reminds him of his mum’s place he bought for her all those years ago. Like YN’s stepmum, she didn’t want anything too grand in the busy life of London but a cozy cottage with a massive yard. He remembers hearing a lot about how the two mums bonded over gardening and wonders if the sunflowers growing off in the corner of the yard was his mum’s doing.

He gets pulled away from his thoughts on one of the patio couches when he hears the sliding back door open and he’s met with his love.

“Hi,” she breathes out.

“Hey.”

“M’sorry I snapped at you. Yeh did nothing wrong.” YN sighs as she keeps her gaze to her fidgety hands, her thumb twisting the ring on her index finger. “Yeh been nothing but supportive and you didn’t deserve that. M’sorry. Can you forgive me?”

He wordlessly pats the seat next to him and she’s quick to climb up close to him. He wraps an arm around her shoulders and gently holds the side of her head and presses a kiss to her temple. He’d forgive her for anything in a heartbeat; that’s how deep his love is for her. 

“S’alright,” Harry mumbles against her skin and feels her shoulders relax against him. “I forgive you.”

“Good. That would have been awkward if yeh didn’t,” YN huffs out a laugh through her nose in an attempt to ease the mood and he can’t hold back the small smile of his face. 

They stay like this for a bit, wrapped up in one another as they look out into the giant, forest-like backyard before them. As much as he’d like to pretend that everything’s alright and move on, he knows that it’s not healthy to. That’s all they’ve ever done during these past couple of years since the band started: suppressing thoughts and feelings in hopes they would disappear and everything would resolve itself on its own. In a perfect world, maybe, but they’ve wasted so much time doing that that they both see what they’ve been missing out on.

As much as he doesn’t want to pop the bubble they’ve created, he knows this needs to be done—or at least try to.

“YN?” When she hums in response, he puts a reassuring hand over hers and is rewarded with the eyes that make him weak in the knees. “Do you feel comfortable telling me about your dad?”

“He’s not me dad,” YN shakes her head instantly. “He didn’t—doesn’t deserve that name. He isn’t me dad. He’s my father and the only reason he even gets that much is because we share the same DNA.” 

YN lets out a deep sigh and avoids her boyfriend’s gaze to look out to the trees scattered around the backyard. She’s never talked to Harry or any of the boys about her father, nor has she ever wanted to. When topics of her family came up during interviews, music video projects, or even group dinners, Penny was only mentioned and brought along. Out of respect, nobody tried to pry her open for any other information about if she had a dad, any other siblings or relatives she was close with. It was only Penny and the Tomlinsons—no one else.

“I don’t want to talk about my father,” As Harry’s head runs around with unfulfilled questions a thousand miles a minute, ready to close the conversation and reassure her that she can when she’s ready, she manages to mumble out, “But I do feel comfortable with you. I love you so much it hurts sometimes and I’ve never felt anything like this before. I’m never going to want to talk about me father but since I plan to spend the rest of me life with you, I need to tell you about this part of my life.”

When Harry turns his body towards her to give her his full attention, her nerves begin to spike up again. But with his hand in hers, it grounds her and makes her feel an overwhelming sense of safety. So with that, she takes in a deep breath before lowering down the wall of her past that she’s kept hidden from the world for years. 

YN, Louis, and some of her other friends ride their bikes down the streets of Doncaster after getting out of school. It was a particularly cold day this time of year and they were all wrapped up in thick coats and scarves. Now, YN isn’t big on birthdays. She never celebrated them in her own household but the Tomlinson’s never failed to give her a cake, collectively sing her the infamous song, and give her a present or two. But this year is different. This year, YN turns 16 and Penny nearly jumped up and down in excitement when her stepdaughter asked if she could bring some friends over for a little party. 

Nobody has ever really been to her house, even Louis—her best friend since she was five years old—doesn’t spend too much time over there either. He was already so used to her suggesting to go over to his house instead that he began to question if she was feeling alright when she told him her plans.

The only reason why she’s even inviting everyone over is because her father said he’d be out late at work and won’t be back until the late hours of the night. Not that she wasn’t used to him not being home, it’s just when he was, he was accompanied by a beer bottle and bitter comments.

The group drops their bikes on the small yard in front of her house before trekking up the short, creaky steps of the porch as they chat and laugh lively amongst themselves. There’s a sense of relief not seeing anyone in the small living room once she pushed and twisted her key in the lock. Her eyebrows furrow for a second when her step mum isn’t there. She did her car in the driveway but brushes it off before turning to the group.

“Alright lads, yeh guys can just leave yeh stuff in here and I can go get us something to eat from the kitchen.” YN smiles at her small group of friends as they all happily agree. Too embarrassed to admit it to herself but she’s actually excited about her little get-together. She’s never hosted a party before and Jay and Penelope pre-made some snacks for her to pass around.

“Let me help yeh with tha—” Louis says as he begins to shrug off his puffer coat when Penny hurriedly comes into the living room. 

“YN,” The young girl furrows her eyebrows for the millionth time at the way her stepmum’s voice shakes and at the fake smile plastered on her face. “‘ello everyone, welcome. Hun, um can I talk with yeh for a second? Ah—Lou, stay there babe. The kitchen is actually a mess from earlier.”  

Louis stops in his tracks as he feels the confusion continues to rise up. Instead of questioning it, he takes it upon himself to entertain the group for the time being as his best friend and her stepmum step off to the side.

“Penny, what’s wrong? Yeh scaring meh.”

“Baby, um,” Penny anxiously pushes her long black hair behind her ears before looking over to her small group of friends in the living room. “There was a little hiccup at your father’s work today...”

No. Please, no.

“Well, wha’s goin’ on in here?” A voice sounds from somewhere behind her and the inevitable chill runs down her spine. 

 When YN turns around, her father stands before her. She’s quick to assess the situation: dirty white shirt, beer bottle in hand, eyes pink and puffy, and the stench of his breath.

“Having a little party without meh or whot?” Samuel taunts with a sickening smile before taking a swing from the dark bottle. Her stomach drops at the sight of her friends’ eyes widening at the man before them.

“Sammy, baby.” YN sees her step mum quickly come to his side and place a hand on her husband’s chest with a gentle voice. “Come on, we were just heading out, right?” 

Please, this can’t be happening. Not now.

“Come on, let YN have her party and we can go out for dinner like we planned.”

“No,” He says sternly, shrugging his arm away from her gentle hand. “S’me house. I paid for it. Why do I ‘ave to leave?” He slurs.

“S’alright, we were just leaving.” YN tries her hardest to not make this a bigger scene than it’s already becoming. “I actually forgot I left the snacks over at yeh house, Lou. Why don’t yeh lads head over there and I’ll be over in a sec.” 

“I don’t think—”

“Louis, I’ll meet up with you guys over there.” YN smiles reassuringly but her eyes tell a different story. He can tell that she’s just begging him to take the group away next door and let her deal with her father in the privacy of the worn down walls of the house. 

She feels ashamed and embarrassed by the way her friends awkwardly gather their things and shuffle out of the house. 

“Hanging around with that Louis bloke again?” Samuel provokes as soon as she closes the door behind the group. YN wouldn’t usually give in to one of his verbal pokes and digs, but whenever he brings up her best friend, it makes the fire in her chest burn hotter. 

“Got fired again?” She retaliates in a bored tone.

“Yeh being smart with meh? Yeh just think you’re so smart, huh?”

“Well I did skip a grade so what do you think?” YN tries to brush past her tispy father over to the kitchen to grab the pre-made snacks but it’s easier said than done. He immediately blocks her from walking any further.

“Do you think you’re better than me?” Her father yells in her face and the smell of alcohol washes over her stronger than before. It makes her scrunch her up nose up at the scent and she keeps her gaze on his dirty shirt than his eyes. “Yeh think yeh can do whatever yeh want and invite people over? Just like that? Yeh can’t just do anythin’ yeh want, Marilyn!” 

This wasn’t the first time Samuel has called YN by her mother’s name, drunk or not. Marilyn left her father when YN was merely four years old, too fed up by her husband to deal with him for another day and too selfish to bring her daughter to her new life. YN remembers the yelling from downstairs and loud shut of the front door. 

She remembers the bright blue and red lights from the police car flashing from her backyard later on in the night, and the two officers saying something about a car accident. She also remembers how it was the first time she ever saw her father cry. 

She doesn’t remember a lot about her mother. When she was older, she found a few pictures of her that her father kept away and needless to say, she was shocked. She almost thought they were pictures of her until she saw a younger version of her father next to her.

“Yeah, and you know what? I wish I was her.” YN bites back through her clenched teeth, finally having the strength to look up and meet his eyes. “I wish I was her so that I can fookin’ leave you like she did!”

As soon as the words leave her mouth, she feels a hot sting on her cheek. The strong impact startles her, her body reacting on its own from the unexpected action that her hands have to catch herself before her face can hit the ground.

“Samuel!”

She hears her step-mum yell, but it sounds muffled. Everything around her fades into a high ringing noise. It wasn’t uncommon for YN and her father to have some heated, verbal arguments. The both of them get red in the face and nasty words are exchanged that should never be said between a daughter and a father. As much they both had the urge to do so, never, never has he ever laid a hand on her until now. 

YN puts a hand on her burning cheek and whips her head around to look up at her father. His chest is heaving in anger, eyebrows deeply furrowed and she can practically see the steam radiating off of him.

As she picks herself off the floor and Penny is quick to her side but YN pushes the woman away from her while keeping her stern gaze on her father. 

Without another word, she marches towards the door. She thinks she hears Penny calling out after her, maybe even her father, but she doesn’t care. She swings the door open and makes headway towards her discarded bike.

She pushes her feet quickly against the pedals, her legs burn at how fast she’s going but continues on. She doesn’t even spare a glance at Louis’ house when she rides past it—her surroundings just all become a big moving blur. The tears on her cheeks feel ice cold as the wind whips at her face, but it simultaneously soothes the fresh marks on her skin. 

“I used to think that if I pedaled hard enough, I would fly away. Like some blue bird in fookin’ Snow White or something.” YN wraps her arms around her legs as she brings them to her chest, resting her chin on her knees as she continues to keep her gaze on Harry’s hand in hers. She hasn’t been able to look him in the eyes since she started to share her truth.

“Where did you go?” Harry asks softly.

“Well I wanted to run away, but I literally had nothing on me. So after circling around Donny for a bit, I sneaked into Louis’s room that night. Penny found me easily,” YN lets out a watery chuckle and wipes under her nose with her sleeve. “Was the first place she looked but I um, I didn’t come back home for about a month. Pen brought me clothes from home and stuff; she knew I didn’t want to go back there.”

“And your father?”

YN looks out to the orange sun set that peaks through the trees of the spacious yard and shrugs. “That was the last time I ever saw or spoke to him. Pen still stayed with him, I stayed at Jay’s and when the summer came around I went back when he wasn’t there. Two months later I had me XFactor audition and I never came back home.”

“M’so sorry, YN.” Harry’s index finger nudges under his nose to help keep his tears at bay.

YN shakes her head and kisses her teeth. “Don’t be. Y’know I hate it when people give me pity and all that. Makes me feel like I can’t hold me own. If anything, I just felt bad for me mum. Like I just left her there to go on tour with the band for two years before I could come up with the money to buy her a decent place of her own.”

“Baby, you don’t have to feel guilty for any of that, you know that right? You should never apologize for simply growing up and trying to move on, YN. Hey, look at me,” Harry gently nudges his hand under her chin to turn her gaze to him. “There’s no doubt in my mind that you can handle yourself. I mean, look how much you had to deal with and are still here; your golden light shining through the darkest of times. But you don’t have to do this on your own anymore.”

When he pulls her further into his arms, he hears her sniffle back her tears and snuggles further into his chest. His heart breaks at the sound and he feels so helpless, like he could have done something to ease her pain. She was hurting right under his nose and he didn’t do anything. But he’s reminded that this isn’t about him, it’s about her. He can’t imagine going through what she did for so many years. He doesn’t even want to humor the idea of something like that happening to his own mum.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t surprised by her response muffled into his chest.

“Can you um...do you mind coming with me to see him next week?”

...

The day to go meet up with her father for afternoon tea came around sooner than YN expected. She barely slept the night before, tossing and turning every which way to release the pain in her temples. If it bothered Harry so much, he did a good job at hiding it because with every wiggle and frustrated sigh, he adjusted their position along with her. He peppered loving kisses to anywhere her skin was near his mouth at the time and whispered sweet nothings in her ear, encouraging her to relax. 

It wasn’t until Harry tugged her on top of him, tucked her head into the crook of his neck and massaged his blunt fingers into her scalp and back that she was finally able to succumb to sleep when the sun began to peek through the sheer curtains. 

After a few phone calls from Jeff and work related matters, Harry walks back into the master bedroom of his home in London with his eyes on the phone in his hand. 

“Darling, wanna start heading o—?” He stops when he sees YN still in her pajamas and her hair messily clipped to the back of her head. She sits criss-cross on the floor with plastic packaging and cardboard all around her. “Baby? What are you doing? Why aren’t you dressed yet?”

“Look, I finally framed my ABBA poster. It’s been rolled up and stuck in that closet since forever and I found these fancy frames I ordered a while ago but never put them to use. I think I’m actually going to order more and just redo all my posters and stuff.” YN rambles on with her hands on her hips as she looks around at the items surrounding her.

“Baby—”

“Oh! And I have to show you this viral TikTok I saw earlier.” YN scrambles to her feet, moving around Harry and swipes her phone from the dresser behind him. “It’s a life hack on how we can maximize space under the bathroom cabinets because as much as I hate to admit it, we both have loads of skin care stuff and this way we can stay organized! And then—”

“YN,” Harry grabs a hold of her shoulders. When he sees her wide eyes look up at him, he gently takes her jaw in his hands. “S’okay to feel nervous. We don't have to go to your home if you don’t want to, lovie. You did nothing wrong and if you don’t want to go, there’s no harm in that.”

He sees the way her wide, tired eyes soften as he can practically see her working the gears in her head. 

“No. No, you’re right.” YN lets out a deep sigh before kissing her teeth. “I hate it when you’re right. Bruises me ego.” 

Harry huffs out a chuckle and presses a loving kiss to her forehead before heading towards the connected bathroom.

“Come on, I’ll even get the shower going for y—” Once Harry opens the glass door of the shower stall, he eyebrows knit together at the balled up pieces of clothing on the floor banded together by rubber bands. YN gives him a sheepish smile. 

“I learned how to tie-dye.”

...

It’s hard not to notice the way YN’s knee keeps bouncing and her hands fidget with the rings on her fingers. He doesn’t point out the way she keeps moving the dials for the AC or how she tweaks the volume of the music every other minute. 

He licks his lips before giving her thigh under his hand a loving squeeze and saying, “Baby, do you mind grabbing me that chapstick I put in yeh bag?”

YN rummages her purse in search of the tiny tube. Harry glances at his love and finds that while one hand is shoved sifting through her bag, the other one holds an abundance of items: her keys, her wallet, a snack-size bag of Haribos she bought at the airport and their two passports.

“I can’t bloody find this stupid, little—”

“Hey, hey. S’alright, forget about it yeah?” Harry takes the items in her hands and tosses them in the spacious footwell of the car. He intertwines his fingers with hers and brings their hands to his mouth. “Thought it would take your mind off of things but I guess it only made you more upset.” Harry chuckles, trying to lighten her anxiety by pressing kisses to each of her knuckles. 

“Sorry, I’m sorry. Fook.” YN brings the heel of her other hand to her forehead and closes her eyes. Harry can feel the frustration radiating off of her. It’s heavy and bleak, and not like his YN at all. He’s suddenly thinking of making a “wrong” turn to the airport to go back to Sunny California where her golden smile shined the most. Or even pulling over at the side of the road to say how there’s a suspicious noise coming from the engine and how they need to wait it out before they continue. “I know m’being a bother. I just can’t stay still. I feel so silly—”

“You are not silly for feeling the way you feel. This is a huge step for you and I just want to thank you for allowing me to be with you during this time. I never want yeh to go through this alone, I know you wouldn’t let me go through this thing alone if it was the other way around. And if this turns out bad, I got a few—” Harry pinches his index finger and thumb together and brings it to his lips. “—back home we can do after.” 

“Yeh could have told me that before we left?”

He laughs at her disappointed tone before making a turn onto the designated property. “I didn’t think we’d make a good impression on your father if we showed up stoned.”

“Holy shit,” YN ducks over to Harry’s driver’s side window at the mansion driveway they pull into. “Are you sure this is the right address?”

“You’re the one who put it into the GPS.”

Like second nature, Harry opens her car door and intertwines his hands with hers before making their way up the driveway.

“Now I feel fookin’ underdressed.” YN adjusts the cardigan that keeps falling off of her shoulder. 

“You look fucking gorgeous.” Harry leans down to plant a kiss to her cheek. 

“Oh, no.” YN cracks a smile and pinches at his lips with her knuckles. “I’ve been a bad influence on you, haven’t I?” 

“Wha’ do yeh fookin’ mean?” She giggles as Harry micks her Yorkshire accent. Him and the boys would like to make fun of her accent throughout the years but Harry’s always done it to defuse her anger, to bring a smile on her face and ease her bundle of nerves. “This is how I bloody talk and shit, innt?”

“Is it now?” 

“Aces, man.” Harry smiles brightly at the way she covers her laugh with the back of her hand as he reaches over to push the doorbell. “Just buzzin’ in excitement, aren’t yeh? Oh bloody ‘ell, bloody ‘ell.”

YN and Harry’s laughter gets cut off by the front door opening. There stands an older woman, probably in her late fifties. Her blonde hair looks like it was freshly done at the salon and looks like a fluffy yellow cloud on her head. The woman’s sparkly cocktail dress and matching red lip are way too fancy for an afternoon tea, and if it wasn’t already for the massive size of their house, YN might have been surprised at her attire. 

“Hello there. We were just expecting you both.” The woman’s American accent rings through YN’s ears. As the woman extends her manicured hand to greet the couple, YN’s eyes immediately go to the sparkly rock on her finger. “My name is Della and you beautiful young lady must be—”

“YN.” A voice continues from behind the pristine woman, the same voice that runs a chill down her spine as it did when she was a kid. 

A man appears at the doorway, his eyes widening like he almost expected her to not come at the last minute. 

She doesn’t know who this man in front of her is, but it certainly isn’t the man she remembers. There’s no beer bottle in his hand but a gold wedding band on his ring finger. Instead of his stained shirt, a freshly pressed white button-up and a sweater vest covers his chest. Her nose doesn’t burn from the stench of alcohol but of minty freshness. 

But even though his eyes aren’t surrounded by pinky, puffiness, she can tell that those are her father’s eyes.

“Hello, Samuel,” YN utters out the words with as much professionalism as she can, almost as if she were interviewing him for a prestigious job. 

“I’m—I’m so glad you were able to make it.” The older man huffs out a laugh of disbelief as he runs a nervous hand over his thinning hair; his clean, combed and styled hair. 

When Harry sees his love swallow thickly from uncomfortableness, he extends an outreached hand, “Hello, m’Harry. It’s nice to meet you Mr. and Mrs. Barlowe.”

YN just stands with her hand still clasped in his as the older couple shakes her boyfriend’s hand. 

“Please, please come inside.” Della steps aside and opens the door wider. 

YN can feel her skin tingle by the feel of her father’s eyes on her and she hates the way she’s having trouble meeting his eyes.

It’s an uncomfortable experience walking through the spacious house, everything clean and neat that it almost looks like no one has ever lived in it before. The couches and decorative carpets are white and aesthetically minimal, grand chandeliers hanging in every room they pass and a kitchen that looks like it’s never been used. She almost feels the need to take off her shoes in fear of leaving a mark on the perfectly clean titles. 

As YN looks around the museum-like house, she quickly looks down at the feeling of Harry giving their intertwined hands a reassuring squeeze. Even if he can’t do anything about her situation, she appreciates the fact that he’s letting her know that he’s here with her for any support she needs. 

Once the group sits down on the patio outside, YN almost jumps in her seat when two women with white aprons come out with trays ready for their tea. 

Della and Samuel move in sync with one another as they drink their tea. They might as well be robots, lifting their white tea cups with such delicateness and gently dabbing their cloth napkin around their lips precisely three times. It’s borderline scary, like a jumpscare out of a horror movie was bound to pop out any minute. 

But she has to admit, Della isn’t a stuck up monster as she initially thought upon meeting her at the front door. She’s actually a very sweet woman who smiles at her husband with so much love in her eyes.

YN’s learned that her father was working as a janitor at a law firm company shortly after she and Penny left his life. There, he was inspired to go to law school and with some help from some people in the company, he was able to attend. He soon worked his way up to become a partner at the firm and the small company became bigger than anyone ever expected. He met Della in 2015 when she was working as the firm’s secretary and married a couple months into dating. 

“He would always stop by my desk and take from the lollipop bowl I had there. He would always ask me to go out with him and I kept telling him no—I honestly think it was because he liked my accent and I was playing hard to get.” Della whispers not so quietly and it makes a chuckle bubble out from YN’s throat. It puts a smile on Harry’s face to see his love more relaxed, not totally letting her guard down but enough for her shoulders to come down from their pinched position. 

“What made you change your mind?” YN questions with a sincere smile and takes a sip of her honey-induced tea.

“This guy—” Della playfully slaps her husband's chest. “Got in front of the whole office, guitar in hand and sang to me. Oh the name of the song is slipping from my mind...how did it go again?” Della snaps her fingers as she racks her brain. “Um... don't care if it hurts, I wanna have control...”

“I want a perfect body,” Samuel says along.

“I want a perfect soul,” YN finishes and looks down at her lap. “That's um, that’s Creep by Radiohead.”

“If m’not mistaken, that was one of the first songs I taught you how to play on the guitar.” Her father smiles and sits up straighter in his seat. 

“Yeah, you let me use your old Lancaster.” Harry sees the way her smile falters at the mention of the memory. YN was in middle school when her father showed an uncommon amount of kindness one day. It was the day she rummaged through the garage and found the pictures of her mum along with his old eclectic guitar. Instead of scolding her to not look through his old things, he sat down with her and showed her the simple cords to the song (thanks to the years of practice from Penny, she was able to pick up the melody pretty quickly). They smiled, laughed, and bonded. But like many things in her life, consistency crept its way back in.

Samuel saw sight of a picture of his deceased wife peeking out from YN’s hoodie pocket and a switch flicked inside him. He suddenly snatched the beautiful guitar and smashed it against the ground. After three swings, the base completely disconnected from the neck. He walked out without so much as another word and left YN panting, frozen in a state of fear and shock.

“I loved that guitar,” YN says softly and she’s back at avoiding his gaze. 

“I did, too. S’a shame I don’t have it anymore. Sold it to an old buddy of mine back in the day.” Samuel sighs out in disappointment and YN’s eyebrows quickly knit together. When she looks up at him in confusion, he sees him shake his head in reminiscence.

“Hey, maybe you should treat yourself and buy a new one, huh?” Della puts a hand on her husband’s arm with an encouraging smile. “There’s got to be a store somewhere that sells some.”

“Reckon’ you’re right, D.” Samuel smiles. While he leans over to give her a kiss on the cheek, Harry too leans over to his love. “That’s a great idea.”

“Baby, y’alright? Wha’s wrong?” Harry whispers.

“S’just that—”

“Okay, so I would hate to have you both feel uncomfortable about this and Sam warned me not to bring it up,” Della chuckles. “But before you two leave, would you guys mind signing a CD for my kids? They just love both of your music and they would absolutely die if they knew you guys were here without a little something.”

“You have children?” YN raises her eyebrows in surprise.

“Two girls,” Della smiles brightly. “Sydney just got back from college—oh sorry, uni—last month and our little Abigail just turned the big 16 last week. We had a little surprise party for her and we invited all of her friends over. Oh, it was so much fun. And the cake was just so delicious—”

“Della, honey.” Samuel puts a gentle hand on his wife’s. “I think we’ve heard enough about the party—”

“I would actually love to hear more about it.” YN speaks up, straightening up her back and turning her full attention towards the older woman. 

“YN,” Harry whispers gently into his girlfriend and puts a comforting hand on the back of her chair.

Della nervously chuckles. "Oh, I don't know-"

“Please. Please, go on." YN insists. "Did you bake the cake yourselves? Did you spend all night the day before preparing little snacks for all of her friends, too? Did you guys buy her a sentimental gift? Samuel?”

YN gives her father an expected look, patiently waiting for his answer as he squirms in his seat. He nervously coughs into his hands before saying, “Um, we uh...well she just got her license not too long ago so we um...we put some money together to buy her a car.”

Della shifts her gaze back and forth between her husband and his daughter as the tension begins to build up. She sees the way YN purses her lips together and nods. 

“She had been asking for one for so long and since it was a special occasion, Samuel wanted to do something nice.” Della reasons with a wavering smile. “I’m sure that Sam here did something just as special for you when you turned her age. What did he give you?”

Harry—all of them really—can see the way Della tries her best to lighten the mood but right now he knows that she should just stop talking altogether. 

“A slap across the face.” YN nods nonchalantly, not at all bothered by the horrific look on the older woman's face. “Yeh know, the kind where yeh least expect it and the force of it is just so strong that it actually knocks yeh off your feet. Makes you hear a little ringing sound, too. Isn't that right, Samuel?”

Della looks over to her husband as he furrows his eyebrows and as much as Harry hates to admit it, the resemblance she has with her father’s current expression is undeniable. 

“I’m sorry,” Samuel shakes his head as he clears his throat. “I actually have no idea what you are referring to.”

The wind immediately gets knocked out from YN’s chest and if it wasn’t for Harry’s hand on her back, she’d think she was dreaming.

“M’sorry whot?” She scoffs. “So you’re telling me that you don’t remember the reason I left home?”

“Yeh went on to become a world famous singer. I always knew you would someday.” 

Harry can feel the anger radiating off her body as her father lies right through his teeth. Till this day, she can still hear his drunken words slurred to her:

You’re a waste of space.

Yeh think you’re gonna make it as a singer? You’re pathetic. 

You’re not worth it.

Just as Harry mentally (and almost physically) prepares himself from standing in between his girlfriend and her father when she goes off on him, he’s taken back when she lets out a laugh. She’s laughing. Her eyes squeezed shut with one hand over her stomach and the other over her mouth.

“Why is that funny?” Della looks around at the people surrounding the table.

“Sorry, m’sorry,” YN says in between giggles. “But that’s the biggest load of shit v’ever heard. So you’re saying that yeh don’t remember all of those years of yelling at me? Yelling at Penny? Drinking excessively? Breaking things violently in front of me? Hitting me?”

“Enough!” The loud bang to the table and the movement of the fine china startles everyone as Samuel’s voice booms throughout the patio space. “I invite you into me house to try to rekindle our past, to heal wounds and move on yet you bring up with shite?”

“Rekindle our past? Dunno how you expected to do that when you can’t even be honest about what yeh did to me! And heal wounds? Hate to break it to yeh Samuel, but those wounds aren't wounds anymore. They’re scars now. Already patched up and healed with no help from you.” YN lets out a small chuckle to herself before shaking her head. “I don’t know why I even came here. Della, you seem like a smart woman so I would advise yeh to have a little chat with your husband because he clearly isn’t the man that you know. Thank you for the tea.” And with that, YN’s chair screeches against the pavement before standing up.

“So that’s it?” Samuel spits. “And you? Harry, you’ve barely spoken a word since yeh got here.”

“How believe me, I have plenty to say,” Harry bites back as he stands up and puts a protective hand on YN’s back. “But out of respect for the love of my life, all m’gonna say is that you’re a piece of shit, man.” 

“Get the hell out of me house!” Samuel yells as he abruptly stands from his seat, the metal chair falling loudly to the ground behind him and he points towards the door.

“Glady.” YN scoffs and once Harry intertwines his hand with hers, they make their way out of the house. 

It’s a known fact that throughout the years of the two being in the public eye, they’ve been media trained to be the sweetest people they can be towards anyone they meet. Harry has been portrayed for years as a ‘bad boy’ who's never done anything bad and YN the ‘good girl’ with permanent innocence. It’s been rumored around the fandom since the band started that as sweet and soft spoken as they come off for their jobs, when they get mad—they get furious. So while many fans think it’s one of the many delusion based fandom-facts, no one has truly seen how scary the two can become when they get angry. 

“Wait!” The couple turns around to find Della quickly making her way over to their car but the two ignore her calling as Harry proceeds to open her door. “YN, please!”

With an annoyed look to her love and a sigh, YN relecutaly turns around, “Whot?”

“I’m so, so sorry about what happened back there. I had no idea he had done those awful things to you. If-if I would have known...”

It doesn’t take long for it to all click in YN’s head. Her expression softens as she recognizes the look in the woman’s eyes from a mile away. 

“You don’t know about me past.” She tilts her head to find Della’s eyes. “But you have experienced it, haven’t you?”

Harry’s surprised by the bold assumption, but when he flicks his gaze over to the prestigious woman, his heart strings pull greater than they have ever before.

“I don’t know what happened.” The older woman brings a shaky hand to her mouth as her eyes begin to water. “It first started shortly after we got married all those years ago. He was nothing like that when we met.”

“What I said back there is true. You are a smart woman. You know what to do. Think about your girls. They deserve the world, not this. Don’t let them go through what we did.” She surprises herself by wrapping her arms around the older woman, Della is quick to reciprocate. The hug doesn’t last longer than a couple of seconds,

but it was somehow something they both needed. So as she watches the couple drive away, Della is left with a truth she pushed back facing years in the making.

...

No matter how many years they’ve been working together, writing songs together and making music side by side, Harry still manages to get nervous showing her his work. But this isn’t any kind of love song he’s written about her in the past. This was on a deeper level of intimacy between them. This isn’t just about himself or his feelings of longing and loving towards her, but of her past.

He taps his leather journal in his open palm, gathers his tin container and with a deep breath in, he makes his way over to her where she’s seated in his backyard. In the middle of his closed-off yard, she’s sitting on a blanket he put out earlier, a guitar in her hands as she mindlessly plucks pretty melodies from the wired strings.

He leans down to press a kiss on her exposed shoulder before lifting the spaghetti strap of her dress back up and plopping down next to her. She easily flicks open the lid from the container and she smiles at the sight of a lighter and the familiar rolled up substances. 

“Romantic dinner for two, Mr. Styles?” She pauses her movements when he puts a hand on top of hers and she looks up at him expectantly.

“I uh, before we get into it, I actually wanted to share something with you first.” YN notices the familiar journal in his lap and gives him a cheeky smile.

“Another love song about meh? M’starting to think you fancy me.” When she notices his knowing look, she gives him a closed lipped smile. “Sorry, go ahead.”

When she sets down her guitar, he reaches out and takes into his lap instead. She’s pleasantly surprised by his actions. He usually writes on piano as his choice of instrument and feels the butterflies start to flap their wings in anticipation of what’s to come.

He leans over himself to make sure his fingers are placed correctly over the strings and right as he’s about to begin, he stops, “Don’t make fun of me, alright? M’still practicing.”

She laughs and grabs a hold of his chin as she plants a sweet kiss to his lips, “Promise I’ll keep my opinions to myself.” Her giggle is muffled when he pulls her back in for another kiss but sits back and patiently waits until he’s ready. 

With a final deep breath in, his fingers begin to pluck beautifully. He still needs a little finer tuning on his part but he’s doing a wonderful job so far. 

You were riding your bike to the sound of "It's No Big Deal"

And you're trying to lift off the ground on those old two wheels.

YN tilts her head at the lyrics but lets him continue on.

Nothing 'bout the way that you were treated ever seemed especially alarming 'til now.

So you tie up your hair and you smile like it's no big deal.

It’s been a few days after the visit to go see her father and after crying and venting to her mum about what happened, the couple hasn’t brought the topic up since. 

You don't have to be sorry for leavin' and growin' up, mmhm

There’s still so much she’s holding onto, so much still sitting on her chest that she's still unable to let go of. But Harry knows her more than anyone and understands her love language right down to the T: music.

Matilda, you talk of the pain like it's all alright

YN lets out a watery chuckle at the book reference, the one she loved so dearly as a child.

But I know that you feel like a piece of you's dead insidе.

You showed me a power that is strong еnough to bring sun to the darkest days.

It's none of my business, but it's just been on my mind.

“This song was inspired by an experience YN and I had with a mutual friend—a person who we disguised as Matilda by Roald Dahl.” Harry explains from his interview chair for the Harry’s House documentary. The couple agreed without a doubt that they wouldn’t fully explain that the song was about YN. They usually never do but the song speaks for itself. “I played it to a couple of friends and all of them cried. So I was like, ‘Okay, I think this is something to pay attention to.’”

You don't have to be sorry for doin' it on your own.

It shocks YN to realize that while she went through this part of her life by herself, she wasn’t alone. Ten years ago, YN gained brothers, a family consisting of the boys, her managers, tour and production crew, and the fans. She had a family by her side this entire time and she didn’t even register in her mind. 

You can throw a party full of everyone you know

You can start a family who will always show you love

You don't have to be sorry, no

As soon as he plays the last note, YN quickly shuffles on her knees over to him and wraps him up in her arms. She digs her face into the crook of his neck as he grips onto her shoulder blades, pulling her incredibly closer to him as he can. 

“People have so much guilt with things that they don't necessarily need to have guilt with sometimes. I think it's your right to protect the space around you and be protective of yourself and look after yourself.” 

“I’m sorry you went home to that.”

YN shakes her head reassuringly and takes his face in her hands. She’s been crying so much lately that she’s surprised that she hasn’t run out by now. She has so much love for the man in front of her. She was serious about before: she’s never felt this way about anyone ever before. YN presses her lips lovingly to his. “You are my home, Harry.”

Her favorite dimpled smile appears on his face and she presses her forehead to his. 

“You are my home, YN.” He says before pulling her back into him for more kisses.

“I think this song is going to touch a lot of people. It speaks to so many who’ve gone through toxic family members in their lives, people who weren’t loved in the way that they should have been loved,” YN gives the interview camera a sad smile. “S’a powerful one, this one.”

Back in the studio, YN can be seen in the recording room sitting in front of a Casio piano. With her chunky studio headphones on she plays along to Harry’s voice singing in her ears. 

Oh, there's a long way to go,

I don't believe that time will change your mind.

She can’t help but tuck in her lips in an attempt to hold back the tears that threaten to escape. 

In other words

I know they won't hurt you anymore as long as you can let them go.

YN takes in a shaky breath and closes her eyes as her fingers continues to press on the keys.

You can let it go.

In a cathartic way, she finally releases the bands that she kept from her past. She lets go of her abusive father and the power he held over her for all of those years. She lets go of her biological mother’s name and accepts that she was never her, she’s her own person. She lets go of the guilt of leaving home, of leaving Penny—of leaving her mum there with her father for two more years and lets gratefulness seep in for the fact that her mum isn’t in that position anymore. 

But most importantly, she lets go of the nasty feeling her father soaked her in. 

She’s not pathetic, she’s brave. She’s not worthless, but worthy. She’s not a waste of space, she lights up the room with her golden light.

Taglist:

“It’s a weird one, because with something like this, it’s like, ‘I want to give you something, I want to support you in some way, but it’s not necessarily my place to make it about me because it’s not my experience.’” Sometimes it’s just about listening.” Harry sneaks a discreet peek at his teary-eyed girlfriend from her seat somewhere behind the camera. “I hope that’s what I did here. If nothing else, it just says, ‘I was listening to you.’”

Next song here! 🇬🇧

@wobblymug @be-with-me-so-happily @ashtongivesmebutterflies @kiwiskiwiskiwi @darlingdesire @obsesseddd @hopefulwastelandcreation @cacapeepee @breezie-b00 @harrysfolklore @theekyliepage @sunshinemoonsposts @nervousspiderling @tbslonelyhes @tenaciousperfectionunknown @harrystylesrecs @certified-nalayak @itsjustsel @iknowyouthinkimbulletproof @gviosca @behindmygreyeyes @twobluejeans @allisonxmcu @theemeraldbutterfly @jean-love @marvellover-sam @b-reads-things @reveriehs @rach2602 @thurhomish @perrypughstyles @luvonstyles @mxltifxnd0m @teamspideyman @c00chiemonster @juiceboxrry @s8tellite @folklorehrry @illicithallways @claramllera @eunoiaax @hoya122 @nichmedder @sleutherclaw @gloriousmoneyrascalbiscuit @harianaswhore @teawithcyb0rgs @vrittivsanghavi @vc55bughead @futuristiccroissantlampsludge @onecrazydirectioner @valluvsu @itsgabbysblog @awkwardbisexuall 

#harry x 1dbandmember!reader #building harry's house series #since 2010 series #1dbandmember!yn #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x you #harry styles fanfiction #one direction #harry styles blurb #one direction fanfiction #harry styles imagine #harry styles #harry styles fanfic #harry styles writing #harry's house #harry styles one shot #harry styles fic #harry styles angst #harry styles and y/n #harry styles and reader #famous!yn #famous!reader #harry styles masterlist #harry styles concept #harry styles au

[lambertdiary]

Dalton parents not being okay with dalton's relationship but he is still dating the reader and in final his parents understood that she is so good for him

Ohhh angst, I like it. (Also this turned out so long?)

Dalton’s parents were visiting him for the day, since they have barely seen him since uni started they decided to go see him and spend some time with him.

They got there kinda early and they went to town to have some breakfast, exploring around and Dalton showing them the places he was familiar with. He loved spending time with them and he had missed them too, a lot.

“Should we stick around here for lunch?” Renai asked as the morning was coming to an end.

“No” Dalton was quick to reply “I made plans with Y/N but you guys should join us” He said excited looking at both his parents, but they remained silent “What’s wrong?”

“Come on, we haven’t seen you in a while, let’s have lunch just the 3 of us” Josh tried to place a hand on his shoulder, but Dalton took a step back.

“Can I invite Y/N to come?” He had some suspicions about them not liking Y/N. They have met several times through facetime but after the first time they seemed a bit… distant with her and any time Dalton tried telling them about her they just moved on too quickly or completely ignored it, but now he had an answer.

“Like your dad said, why don’t we have lunch the 3 of us and you can see her when you go back to campus?”

Dalton scoffed and tried to collect his thoughts “Why can’t I invite my girlfriend?” 

The two parents looked at each other, probably not expecting to have to give him an explanation “We don’t… we don’t know if she’s right for you” Ranai said after a moment of silence.

“What? What do you mean?” 

“After everything that you’ve been through, son” Josh began “Whenever you tell us about her she’s dragging you around parties or all these places you don’t want to-”

“Didn’t you beg me to go to a frat party the first day I came here?” Dalton interrupted him.

“That’s not the point, she’s putting you in danger and it doesn’t seem like she’s there for you, ever” Josh was raising his voice, and Renai came up to him and placed a hand on his back to try to get him to stop.

“She’s always there for me! You’d know if you ever listened to me”

“We can forget about-”

“Didn’t you say she forced you to get rid of the night light?” Josh continued yelling.

“No, that’s not what happened. She started staying with me to try to help me get over my fear of the dark, and it worked because I didn’t need to sleep with the night light anymore so I got rid of it” Dalton was raising his voice too, so he took a deep breath to calm down “God, I can’t believe you twist my words just to find an excuse to not like her”

“Dalton, we’re sorry, your dad didn’t mean to-”

“But it’s not just dad, is it?” He asked, Renai didn’t say anything “I’m going back to campus” Dalton started walking away as he pulled out his phone to call an uber.

“Dalton, don’t do this” Renai tried to stop him.

“How do you think I feel knowing you guys don’t like my girlfriend?” He said not stopping.

He went back to campus, completely ignoring his parent’s calls or texts. Y/N was in Dalton's room waiting for him, he had called saying he would be back for lunch and that she should wait there. He sounded mad, and she knew it was about his parents so she was ready for him to vent. Surprisingly he didn’t, he just brushed it off saying they had to go earlier than expected and that he was just feeling tired, but she had no idea what actually happened, of course he would never tell her the real reason.

Weeks went by and Dalton still hadn’t talked to his parents, no matter how hard they tried to reach out to him. He was in a happy relationship for the first time in his life and he didn’t want anything to ruin it.

But Josh and Renai were feeling guilty, especially Renai. They knew what it felt like to be a teenager in a relationship, the pressure of a million different things would always be there and they hated to think they were one of them, and since Dalton was ignoring their calls they decided to go back and fix it. It was a long drive but they knew it was worth it.

Y/N and Dalton were in his dorm, it was a little early so they were still sleeping, but a call woke Dalton up. With his eyes barely open he looked at his screen, huffing when he saw it was his dad. He hung up and immediately went back to sleep, but then he received a text message.

Josh: We’re outside, can you open the door?

His eyes opened as soon as he read that, he looked beside him at Y/N, who was still peacefully sleeping “Fuck” He muttered under his breath, carefully leaving his bed and making his way to the door, taking a deep breath to mentally prepare himself before opening “What are you guys doing here?” He whispered.

“Well, you aren’t answering any of our calls-” Josh was the one to talk, but since he was being loud Dalton stopped him.

“Shhh” 

“Dalton? Are you having nightmares?” Y/N asked in a really low whisper, her voice still sleepy as she sat on the bed and rubbed her eyes. Josh and Renai looked at each other with widened eyes.

“No baby, don’t worry” He said, ready to leave his dorm and let his girlfriend go back to sleep.

“Where are you going?” She asked.

“Just give me one minute, okay? I’ll be right back” He stepped out of the room and closed the door behind him “What’s going on?”

“So she’s sleeping here now?”

“Josh- we’re sorry honey, we wanted to apologise for what happened”

“Yes, we’re very sorry”

“Okay, is that all?” Dalton asked, making Josh mad again.

“We come all the way here and that’s all you say?”

“You guys came here to try to fix a mistake YOU made, just because you’re saying sorry doesn’t mean I forgot about what you said about-” He stopped, remembering Y/N was inside and she could probably hear them, so he lowered his voice “I don’t want her to know” 

Ranai took a deep breath, it broke her heart to see Dalton like that “We came here not only to apologise but also to get to know her, we judged her and your relationship without properly meeting her so that’s what we want to do, we want to meet her and hopefully you’ll give us a second chance”

“Well, not right now, she’s sleeping”

“Right, well we plan to stick around all day so maybe later?” Renai asked with hopeful eyes. They drove all the way there so Dalton nodded slowly, he wouldn’t get rid of them this time and maybe it wasn’t fair, they were asking for a second chance.

“I’ll go talk to her and we can have breakfast together” He finally replied, making both his parents smile.

“Thank you” Renai had a big smile on her face.

He nodded again and was about to open the door “Dalton” Josh stopped him and Dalton turned to face him “Put on a shirt” He said, and Dalton rolled his eyes before going in.

#concept friday #dalton lambert concept #dalton lambert #dalton lambert x reader #dalton lambert fic #dalton lambert imagine #dalton lambert x you #dalton lambert fanfic #dalton lambert imagines #dalton lambert fluff #dalton lambert angst #insidious the red door #insidious #insidious 5 #ty simpkins

[cloudlessly-light]

I'd rather be a wild one instead (Stepdad Hotch/stepdaughter Emily AU, one-shot)

A/N: I know we’re a few days away still but since I’ll be working this Christmas I wanted to post this before I didn’t have time to write. I will say this universe really is the one sending me straight to hell, not one stop on the way. But I love daddy Hotch and we all know I’m a perv so I hope you enjoy our idiots being filthy in this universe as well!

And special thanks to @criminalmindsgonewrong for requesting Emily in a sexy Santa outfit! Hope this is okay bestie!

Happy holidays, whatever you celebrate (or don’t), wherever in the world you are!

Title: I’d rather be a wild one instead  Summary: She hasn’t seen her stepfather in three months. But now it’s Christmas and she promised to come back.

(One-shot from my AU Find me where the wild things are) Word Count: 5,2k. This is so long I’m sorry!! Rating:  Explicit Warnings: Smut, cheating, age difference, taboo relationship, stepfather/stepdaughter relationship, dirty talk, power dynamics, daddy kink, rough sex, in public, fingering, teasing, spanking (with a belt), consumption of alcohol

“I said I would stay at uni for Christmas, but I think I’ve changed my mind.”

“Is that so?”

“I’ll be back for Christmas, Daddy.”

It’s been three months since they’d been in the same room. Three months of her thinking back on her summer with him. It wasn’t love, nothing even close to it, but it was carnal, a need she hadn’t been able to shake no matter how many guys she might have dated. No one could measure up to him. 

And now it’s December 22nd, almost Christmas, and she’s standing outside looking at the closed door, knowing that he was inside. So is her mom, which makes her gut twist nervously. They’d spend the holiday together as a family, as her mother had put it while on a skype call a couple of weeks ago and Emily had to force the frown away.  

She opens the door and is almost smacked in the face by the Christmas decorations. Her mother had never been big on celebrating, always put up just enough decorations to keep up appearances that their life was as neat as the moronic Christmas card she’d send out every year. But this was more than that, lights and trinkets everywhere and a fucking reindeer sitting just to the left of the stairs. 

“Emily!” Her mother walks towards her, a glass of champagne in hand. 

“Mother.” She accepts the hug that feels forced. “Why does it look like Santa’s threw up in here?”  

“You don’t like it?” Aaron’s voice makes her pause, her eyes on him as he walks closer, a smile on his face.  

“It’s… different.” She mutters and looks around as Aaron wraps an arm around Elizabeth. “Didn’t think you’d be a Christmas kind of person.”  

“Oh he loves all the holidays.” Elizabeth gushes and smiles at her husband before looking back at her. “Go on and change Emily, the guests will be here in a little while.”  

It was a Christmas party, one that always took place if Elizabeth spent the holidays in the states. And Emily hated it every time. But she stays quiet as Aaron takes her bags and heads upstairs, following him only a few steps behind. She’s unsurprised that her mom stays downstairs, already heading back toward the back of the house where the party will mostly take place. 

“Did you have a nice flight?” Aaron asks as they head towards her bedroom and she thinks that maybe he hasn’t been thinking about her the way she’s been thinking about him. But then the hand that wasn’t carrying her bag lands low on her hip as she walks ahead of him through her bedroom door and she feels the heat she now associates with him.   

“I did.” She looks around and while her room has been saved from any Christmas decorations, there’s a black gift box sitting on her bed. She walks towards it when Aaron nods, a smirk tugging on his mouth. “From you?” 

“Daddy thought you’d like it.” His eyes gleam in that familiar way when she looks at him with wide eyes, her tongue quickly licking over her bottom lip.  

“Should I open it now? Or wait until Christmas morning?” Her throat feels dry, her pulse quickens and he walks towards her until he’s standing close enough for her to feel the heat of his body against hers. 

“Open it now, wear it tonight.” His voice is low, a rumble that’s as thrilling as it is familiar.  

She opens it with trembling fingers, pulls on the red bow and lifts the lid while he studies her closely. When she carefully picks up the red silk panties, his eyes are darker, pupils blown wide. 

“Crotchless panties?” She smirks and his hand wraps around her throat, his thumb pushing just under her chin. 

“Yes, so when I get bored I’ll have something pretty to play with.” He leans in, lips hovering above hers and she whines when he doesn’t kiss her. “And you still want to be a good girl for your daddy, don’t you sweet thing?”  

“Yes.”  

His confident grin turns a little darker, a sound of contentment leaving him. 

“Good girl.” He squeezes around her throat once and then let’s go of her. She stumbles in place, almost chases after him when he turns to leave without another word. It was unbelievable, the power he held over her, how she so easily submitted to him, how badly she already needed him.  

Before he disappears out her bedroom door he gives her a wink. Any worrying she had done had clearly been for nothing.

Just like she had expected, she hated the decorative party. She was bored standing with a flute of champagne in a red, sparkling, floor length dress with a slit up one thigh. She had decided on it for two reasons, one Aaron loved her in red, two the slit was dangerously high, showing off her smooth skin. But even as she saw the way he was tracking her, she was bored and alone. The only saving grace was the panties she was wearing, making her shiver in excitement.

“Em!” The sound of JJ’s voice cuts through her train of thought surprisingly, and she looks up to see her best friend heading towards her with a wide smile.

“JJ!” She greets her with a tight hug, at least now she had someone interesting to talk to instead of lusting after her stepfather all night. “What are you doing here? I thought your family was going to Switzerland for the holidays?”

“We’re leaving tomorrow, and I couldn’t skip seeing you now could I?” JJ takes a sip from her own glass of champagne. “I want to know about school and everything, but first, I need the details about Mr. Hotchner.”

Emily grunts in disgust.

“Oh god JJ, please it’s Aaron. Mr. Hotchner makes him sound so old.” She watches as the blonde rolls her eyes, a teasing smirk already on her lips.

“He is old, Em.”

“Shut up.” She pushes gently at her shoulder. “You want the details or not? Cause if you’re going to be a bitch, I’ll be one right back you know.” She grins when JJ starts to laugh, a breathy chuckle that Emily had missed hearing.

“Fine I’ll be nice. Now tell me everything.”

So she did, not that there was much to tell. She told him about his gift and what he had said, mentioned that if Aaron wasn’t going to come to her, she was most certainly going to come to him.

“I swear if I came here for Christmas and I’m leaving without getting another taste of that man, I’m not coming back until after graduation.” She joked, mostly.

“Just be careful, if someone finds out you’re screwed. It would be the biggest scandal that’s happened in years.”

“It’ll be fine JJ, the only people who knows are me, him and you.” She arches an eyebrow at the blonde who quickly squeezes her lips together and pretends to zip them up.

“Your secrets, no matter how depraved, are always safe with me.”

“Girls,” Aaron is suddenly there, somehow sneaking up on them without either of them noticing and while JJ jumps slightly, Emily only smiles knowing very well that her mother is watching them. “the dinner is about to start, Emily you’re sitting with your mother and me.”

“Seriously?” She frowns slightly. “I can’t sit with JJ?”

The polite smile hardens just a bit, his dark eyes zeroing in on her and holding her gaze.

“No.”

“But what-”

“Don’t argue with me.”

She glares at him but in the end she knows there’s no fighting it so she sighs.

“Fine, we’ll be right there.”

When Aaron nods and starts walking away she turns back to JJ who’s standing next to her with flushed cheeks.

“Okay, I get it now.” She says and Emily nods.

“Told you, he’s hot. Come on let’s get this over with.”

When she sits down she’s surprised to find herself next to only Aaron, her mother on his other side and she looks between his blank face and the empty chair. Normally Elizabeth was always seated in the middle.

“For God’s sake Emily, sit down!” Her mother mutters quietly and with an eyeroll she does.

The food is delicious, that’s the one upside to this night. Or at least that’s what she thinks until she feels Aarons warm hand on her thigh, easily moving up the slit. So technically there’s two upsides, she thinks as she gives him a sparse glance.

The conversations around them are loud, the drinks flowing, and while Elizabeth is turned to talk to a senator, Aaron leans a tiny bit closer to her.

“Spread your legs and don’t make a sound.”

When she doesn’t immediately do what he says and instead looks around the room to see if anybody is paying them any attention, his grip tightens on her thigh.

“No one is looking and you’re already on thin ice with your attitude earlier. Do as I say.”

She’s so close to muttering a yes daddy, but instead she gives a subtle nod and leans back slightly in her chair and her legs spread.

“This is dangerous.” She says while his hand moves higher up her thigh, easily finding the hem of her underwear. He smiles when he feels bare skin where underwear would usually be, happy that she has done as he had told her.

To everyone else it looked like they were having a normal conversation, Aaron’s face neutral as he strokes silky soft skin.

“It is. Which is why if you can’t control yourself I’m stopping.” With that he turns back to Elizabeth who’s still turned away. He’s quickly engaged in another conversation, his best friend David Rossi sitting right across from them.

Emily on the other hand can’t bring herself to talk, can barely bring herself to move in fear of someone noticing his hand that’s hidden under the tablecloth. He’s teasing her, running the tip of one finger along her folds slowly, starting at her clit and then just barely dipping inside of her before repeating the process.

She forces herself to eat small pieces of food, wanting to look busy. She takes another sip of champagne, and swallows that along with a soft moan down when Aaron suddenly circles her clit a little harder. It amazes her, how he looks so indifferent as he continues talking to the people around her like he isn’t fingering his stepdaughter in front of all their friends and associates.

He keeps his finger there, circling slowly but adding a little more pressure and while he laughs along with the jokes and continue conversations that he finds boring, he listens to any sound coming from her, watches her in his peripheral. He sees the flush on her cheeks, something he had missed seeing, notices how her breathing comes out in shorter puffs. She’s getting close but as much as Aaron wants to watch her fall apart, he knows that there’s no way she’ll be able to cover an orgasm so he stops.

“Do not complain or I won’t let you come at all tonight.” He mutters before she can argue and he sees the way she wants to fight him, her eyes heated, a small pout on her face.

“Why would you do this if you weren’t going to finish what you started?” She huffs and he chuckles and wipes his wet fingers on her thigh.

“If you weren’t such a desperate little thing I would have. But we both know that everyone would notice. Besides, you’re my plaything, or do you not remember the rules?”

Her mind goes back to that night in the study, when he had her bent over a couch and talked against her ear, making sure she heard every word he said.

“You do what you’re told, you get what I give you. If I decide to use you as a toy you will say thank you daddy and lay there, if I want your mouth, you’ll be on your knees for me, if I am nice enough to let you come then you can. You ask for what you want, because that’s what good girls do. And you want to be good for your daddy, don’t you Emily?”

“Yes Da- Aaron.” She whispers, swallowing down the urge to kiss him, her hands fisted at her sides to keep from reaching for him. He held her stare for another moment and then Elizabeth said his name and he turned to face his wife.

Emily used the rest of the dinner to try and calm herself, but it was hard when her clit ached and pulsed, the dark heat of arousal simmering just under her skin, her own slick coating her thighs.

It was going to be a long night.

After dinner the real mingling and dancing started but Emily wasn’t paying much attention. JJ had found a southern boy, leaving her alone while her best friend spent the evening flirting and dancing. Not that Emily minded, she could barely focus enough to keep a conversation going.

“Emily!” Elizabeth approaches her with swift steps and she automatically squares her shoulders. She knew that look on her mother’s face and she didn’t like it. “Come dance with Aaron.” She said, trying to usher her away from the corner where she had hidden away.

“What? Why?” She pulls her hand out of her mother’s grasp.

“For the photos, of course.” Elizabeth says like it’s obvious. “Stepfather and stepdaughter, it’ll look good.” She takes Emily’s hand again, this time not letting go.

“You don’t think that’s a little weird, mother?” She mutters but Elizabeth seems to ignore her.

“Don’t be so difficult, Emily. It’s one dance.” She huffs right back and continues to walk with Emily behind her until they’re standing in front of Aaron.

“My darling, would you mind dancing with Emily for a few photos?” She smiles at her husband and Aaron nods.

“Of course, dear.” His eyes move from Elizabeth to Emily, a light chuckle leaving him as he watched the pursed lips and clearly annoyed woman in front of him. “Let’s turn that frown upside down, shall we?”

“I’m not a child.” But she doesn’t fight him when he starts leading her away towards the middle of the room, his hand resting on the middle of her back.

“Oh trust me, I know.” He murmurs lowly when he’s sure they’re far enough away to not be heard. “But we are doing what your mother wants. And after you’re going to go to my study and wait for me.” As he’s talking he’s keeping an arm’s length away from her, one of his hands clasping hers and the other on her waist while she rests hers on his shoulder.

She can faintly hear the clicking of the photographer as they dance and she shivers when she realizes that this conversation will be caught on photos, photos that will most likely be printed out and hung up somewhere in the estate.

“Emily? Are you listening to me?” His voice cuts through her hazy mind and she looks up at him, pupils blown wide, cheeks tinted pink.

“Y-yeah, I’ll wait in your study.” She says and he smiles, satisfied by her answer.

“No one will enter, but remember that people might hear you from inside, so I’m going to need you to be quiet okay?” His voice dropped a little lower, the rasp of his voice coming through when he speaks again. “What do you say?”

“Yes daddy.”

She knows that’s the picture that’s going to be saved, that exact moment.

It’s dark in his study, only a small light on in the corner of the room, it’s cooler, less stuffy in here and Emily takes a couple of deep breaths. She can hear people talking outside, just like he had assumed, but to get into his study, you needed a key that only Aaron had, something he had slipped into her hand right before they had separated on the dance floor.

A few minutes go by, and the longer she waits the more stir-crazy she gets. Seconds feel minutes, minutes like an eternity. When there’s a decisive knock on the door she’s quick to open it, and Aaron is even quicker to push past her and locking the door behind him.

“Finally.” He breathes, dark eyes looking at her with the kind of heat she had missed since this summer. “You really are a tease, deciding to wear that dress.” He starts to walk in a circle around her, taking her in from every angle.

“I don’t think you can call me a tease when you left me hanging during dinner.” She argues and he makes a tsk sound, shaking his head.

“I see you being gone, you’ve completely forgotten how to behave.” He stops right behind her, lets his words fall against her naked shoulder and watches in amusement as she shivers.

“I wouldn’t say that.” Her voice is surprisingly steady when she speaks and she feels his lips curl into a smirk against her neck.

“I would. But we have time for a lesson later, right now we’re on limited time.”

She gasps when he suddenly turns her and pushes her against a bookshelf, a few of the books rattling when her back hits it with a thud. His body feels just as strong as she remembers as he crowds her space, his chest pressed against hers. When he finally kisses her, she sighs into it, her fingers gripping his suit jacket in tight fists to try and get him closer.

He’s already hard, the thickness of him pressing against her even through their clothes and she moves one hand from his suit down to palm him over his pants.

“So eager, so willing.” He breathes in between heated kisses. If they could he would spend hours taking her apart but he knows that they don’t have that luxury so he gets his belt undone, and then Emily takes over, her small hands unbuttoning and unzips his pants with nimble fingers.

“Daddy, I need you.” She whimpers and he groans at her words, it had been too long since he’d heard her voice like that. He hikes her leg up, never having been more thankful for a slit in a dress or Emily’s balance in high heels as he is right then. She’s biting her bottom lip, looking at him with pleading eyes and he ruts against her, feeling her slick folds against his heated shaft.

“You need me huh?” He bumps her clit and she whines and nods, her arms looped around his neck to keep steady.

“I’ve waited all day, please daddy.” If she had been more coherent she probably should give it some thought that she gets this desperate for him, but he’s pushing inside of her, pressing her back against hard shelves and any thought other that him, was gone.

“Fuck baby girl.” He growls against her neck, jaw clenched as he gives them both a moment, her tight walls cling to him, her hands grip his neck and then she moans, something soft and breathy and Aaron can’t wait another moment.

His thrusts are deep and hard, crushing her between his soft front and the hard edges of the bookshelf and she finally feels that feeling she’s longed for. The feeling of complete bliss. He kisses her to muffle her moans, pushes his tongue into her mouth and dominates the kiss, just like he dominates everything else. When they break apart to breathe she’s gasping, her nails close to ripping his suit.

“Daddy, don’t stop.” She pleads and he fucks into her harder, causing a few books to fall around them. Neither of them seem to notice, both too desperate to focus on anything but each other and pleasure.

“Did you think about me in college?” He growls against her ear and she mewls. “Did you think about how good your daddy fucks you while you were fucking boys?”

“Y-yes.” She admits and he snickers, the sound just as graveled as she had remembered.

“But they don’t fuck you like you need to be fucked, do they?” He slows down and pulls back enough to look at her face. “Only daddy knows how you like to be fucked, isn’t that right?” He rolls his hips against hers, pushes as deep as possible and then pulls out while studying her intensely.

“No one knows.” She whimpers, her eyes locked on his. “Only you do, daddy.”

“That’s right.” He claims her lips in a kiss, changes the angle of his hips slightly and Emily cries out. “Shh, it’s okay baby girl.” His large hand covers her mouth and then picks up the pace of his thrusts, continuing to press right against that magic spot inside of her.

She could feel her leg starting to tremble, the strain on it inevitable, but she didn’t care because the tension in her belly was spreading quickly. Her eyes find his, a wordless question in them and he nods.

“You can come.” He mutters lowly, his own orgasm building by each deep thrust. She clings to him as she comes less than a minute later, her leg giving out and if it weren’t for the way he had her pressed against the bookshelf she would have fallen.

“Jesus Christ you get so tight when come on my cock.” He grunts through clenched teeth. She’s panting, head back, jaw slacked, eyes hazy and this is how he had missed seeing her, fucked out and at his mercy.

“Let me feel it daddy.” She whispers and it’s the last push he needs before he comes with a strained groan. He tenses against her, doesn’t move until he’s empty and when he pulls away Emily almost falls to the floor.

“I knew it was a good idea coming back for Christmas.” She joked lightly as she leaned against the wall. She squirmed slightly when she felt his release on her thighs, the crotchless panties doing nothing to help her from creating a mess.

“A very good idea indeed.” He agreed, still catching his breath. “Still, we should clean up, someone will notice soon.

She nods, absentmindedly swiping a finger across her inner thigh and tasting him.

“I swear you’ll be the death of me Emily.”

They manage to get away with it, somehow, and when Emily goes to bed that night she feels sated. But she still had plans, plans that would require her mother leaving them alone. Luckily for her, she had last minute errands to run the following day. Emily might not always get along with her mother, but she knew her, and she knew that she always left buying gifts to the last possible moment, and she smiled at the thought.

“I’ll be back no later than 7 tonight.” Elizabeth said as Aaron helped her put on her coat.

“We’ll be fine here.” He smiled and kissed her cheek.

“Check in on Emily would you? Just to make sure she doesn’t run off. She’s done that before.”

“Will do.” He ignores the way his cock stirs at the thought of him and Emily alone in the house until he’s closed the door. He hadn’t seen Emily since breakfast, that was a few hours ago so he decided to seek her out right away. “Emily?”

He doesn’t knock on her door, can hear soft music playing from inside so he simply opens it. When he sees her his mouth goes dry, eyes not knowing where to look as he takes in her appearance. She’s laying on her bed, a Santa hat on her head and the shortest, skimpiest red Santa dress he’s ever seen and thigh high fishnet stockings on her legs.

She smirks at him, happy that she for once managed to catch him off guard.

“Santa baby, just slip a Sable under the tree for me. Been an awful good girl. Santa baby, so hurry down the chimney tonight.” She sings softly before standing up and walking the short distance to where he’s still standing, seemingly frozen to the spot. “Merry Christmas, daddy.” She hums and presses a kiss to his cheek. It seems to be enough to jolt him out of the temporary shock and his hands wrap around her waist, keeping her against him.

“I don’t think you’ve been a very good girl, my sweet thing.” He nuzzles her nose and she smiles. “But it’s time to change that.”

The switch in him is so quick that she has no time to register it, one hand wraps around her throat, the other grabs the leather belt around her waist and pushes her back. She feels like a ragdoll, almost weightless as he moves her around the room and then spins her around, the hat falling off in the process.

Her face is pressed into the mattress, the obscenely short skirt pulls up exposing her bare center and for a second she wonders how he manages to turn the tables on her so effortlessly. But she knew it would happen, granted she thought she would have gotten a few more minutes but there was no way she was complaining. Especially not when she heard the sound of his belt being pulled through his jeans.

“You had an attitude all day yesterday, baby girl.” He folds his belt in two and gently moves it up a smooth thigh, smiling when Emily’s breathing hitches. “And no matter how cute you look in your little outfit, you’re still going to get a punishment.”

She turns her head on the bed to look be able to look up at him but she doesn’t try to get up.

“I promise to be good.” She says quietly and he laughs, the sound bordering on condescending and her cheeks flare up in response.

“Oh is that right?” He lets the leather stroke down her other thigh then dip between her legs, pressing against the wet heat of her.

“Yes, I promise.” Her hips press back against the leather, the feeling against her clit new and Aaron shakes his head.

“No, I think you’re lying.” He muses and Emily whimpers. “You know what’s going to happen. You’re going to stay still and ask for your daddy’s forgiveness.” His hand tangles in her long hair and he pulls her up so she’s on her hands and knees. “And if you do a good enough job I’m going to fuck you again.”

The filthy grin appears on her face instantly and Aaron shakes his head at her.

“Dirty girl. Open your mouth.” When she does so without question he spits in her mouth and she swallows dutifully.

“Thank you daddy.” She feels him shifting behind her and then let’s go of her hair. She lays her face back down on the bed, preparing herself for the first hit.

The first slap of the belt stings as it lands on one of her cheeks and she jolts slightly.

“I’m sorry daddy.” She whimpers, the words barely out before he strikes her again, this time on the other cheek.

“What are you sorry for?” He asks as the third hit cracks down on the back of her thigh and she cries out.

“For having an attitude.” She tenses just as the fourth hit, this one hard enough that she’ll know she’ll bruise.

“And?” He hits her just as hard the fifth time, enjoying the welts that’s appearing on her pale skin.

“For questioning you.” She jerks away after the sixth hit and Aaron gives her a moment to either stop or get back in position. She takes a few breaths and then bends over again.

“Are you sorry?” He asks and hits her two times, the sound loud as the leather connects to her skin.

“Yes!” She cries out as her muscles start to tremble.

“Are you sorry!?” He says it louder, hits her straight across both cheeks and she whimpers, any other sound stuck in her throat.

“Yes daddy!” She finally gets out and then she hears the sound of the belt falling to the floor and she sighs in relief.

His hand is gentle as he caresses her hip and the outside of her thighs, then up her back under the red fabric of her dress until her breathing has calmed and she’s stopped shaking.

“You did so good baby girl. Daddy’s proud of you.” He whispers gently and Emily relaxes. When she turns over on her back she hisses at the raw feeling of her ass against the bed but she ignores it in favor of being able to look up at him.

Aaron smiles down and kisses her, something he’s intended to be soft and gentle that Emily immediately deepens, hand holding on to the back of his neck. He lays down on the bed and she helps him off with his jeans while he rids himself of his shirt. His hand moves between her legs and finds her slick and ready and he hums in satisfaction.

“Come on baby girl, ride me, let me enjoy this outfit for a bit.” He reaches for the Santa hat and puts it on her and then lays back, eyes roaming over her as she straddles him. She sinks down on him with a low moan and Aaron’s head falls back against the pillows at the feeling. He watches her through heavy-lidded eyes, from the plunging neckline, to creamy things, to her blissed out face. She was a gift wrapped in sin, he was sure of it.

She’s quick to start moving, twisting her grinding on him while his hands are on her hips, not relenting all of his control. Her hand moves down her body and starts rubbing her clit in tight circles, his low grunts only spurring her on. She rocks her hips against his, taking him as deep as possible.

“I’m gonna come daddy.” She mumbles in not time at all, her breathing heavy and his hands tighten on her hips.

“Already?” He grins as she simply nods, hips buckling wildly on top of him, fingers moving faster on her clit. “Do it.” He pushes his hips up, helping her ride out the pleasure as she starts to spasm on top of him, her moans loud and raw as her eyes roll back in her head.

She’s still coming down when he flips them around. They stay like that, Aaron whispering filth in her ear until she’s coming again and then he turns her over and straddles the back of her thighs. The heat from the welts makes him groan and Emily shudders underneath him.

When he comes it’s with a loud groan, bodies sweaty and exhausted, Emily’s dress ruined in scraps on the bed and the floor. He collapses next to her and Emily stays on her stomach, head turned towards him with a lazy grin on her face.

“Thank you daddy.”

“You’re welcome, baby girl.”

A few hours later she’s seated at the dinner table, bruises and welts on her ass that make her want to squirm. Aaron notices, a small smirk tugging on the corner of his mouth while her mother obliviously talks about anything and everything. She locks eyes with Aaron and winks.

It was a very merry Christmas indeed.

#hotchniss #hotchniss fanfiction #hotchniss smut #aaron hotchner x emily prentiss smut #aaron hotchner x emily prentiss #hotch x emily #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds smut #aaron x emily #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner smut #emily prentiss fanfiction #emily prentiss smut

[virgo-dream]

One of Their Own 🏳️‍🌈✨

dreamling / queer joy / fluff / first kiss / 3,6k words

summary: Hob Gadling invites Dream to a meeting of the uni's queer clubs at the New Inn. Dream learns more about his own gender identity, and that he's very much in love with his best friend.

author’s note: this fic, this pairing and this fandom all mean the world to me, so I thought it was fitting to bring it back for pride month!

I’m incredibly thankful for finding Sandman when I did. Since joining this fandom, I’ve made wonderful friends and became part of a community of bright, kind, loving and loyal queer people that I would not trade for anything. I’ve learned more about my community and about myself, and I wave my ace/agender flag proudly now. This fic was written in a moment in my life where I felt hopeless and alone. Now, things couldn’t be more different. Happy pride sandfam! 🏳️‍🌈✨

read here or on ao3

Dream doesn’t get it at first. He never really did get it, but only attributed it to the need humanity had for labels, for packing things into boxes and saying this goes here and that goes there. Sometimes, it leads to this goes to heaven and you go to hell. It seemed to be a very common one, too. He was beyond that; his name said it all, Dream was endless. Not he nor she, not man nor creature, he was all there was to be and the nothingness beyond it. Gender and sexuality need not apply.

Still, it meant so much to Hob, that he’d have dreams about it. Nightmares too, for nights on end, and even if Dream begged Hob to allow him to take them away, Hob always declined, always braving through them. “If you take them, I’ll forget how much it all means. I’ll forget why I’m still fighting.”

They sat at the New Inn one afternoon, while Hob graded papers and Dream had a cup of chamomile tea, but his eyes couldn’t help but focus on a shiny pin on Hob’s jumper shaped like a flag, the shades of pink, purple and blue a spot of proud colour in Hob’s otherwise earthy colour palette.

“It’s the bisexual pride flag.”

“Hm?” Dream’s eyes darted up to meet Hob’s, tilting his head slightly. He wasn’t sure if he should feel bad for being caught, because he wasn’t sure what he was looking at in the first place.

“The pin. I wear it for my students, but also for myself. The kids feel safer I guess, knowing they have at least one of their own in the faculty. Can’t say it doesn’t make me feel good too.”

Hob has a particular tone to his voice that makes Dream’s heart sing in tune to its melody. It’s a fuller sense of self, maybe more than Dream ever had in regards to his own identity. “…one of their own?”

“Oh, I– Sorry, those are pretty recent.” Hob straightened himself up (ha) on the chair, his lecturing posture taking over. Dream liked when he did that. He liked to hear Hob speak of things he had deep knowledge of and passion for. “This one was created in 1988 by a queer activist called Michael Page. Had the pleasure of being there when it was first unveiled, but clearly it took a long time until I was able to wear something like this out in public and not be decked by some bloody homophobe.”

It was starting to sink in.

“…I’m afraid I was not present for these developments.” Dream saw the look on Hob’s face, like he was ready to apologise. He raised a hand to stop him, waving his concern away. “As far as I can remember, queer was not a form of self identification, but only a way to shun out those outside the established norm.”

“Ah, yes. We reclaimed it, though. Or are reclaiming it. The 80s were crazy. All of them were, for me.” Hob smiled at Dream, at their shared secret and at their years of now reestablished friendship.

“I think you’re lonely.”

Could it have been….? Could he have meant…?

“What does it mean for you, then?” Dream asks in a way he hopes sounds inconspicuous, pointing at the pin. He was hesitant to ask, afraid to be getting it all wrong.

“For me? It means I love whoever I love. Man, woman, either or neither.”

The pride coming from Hob’s words filled Dream with hope, something he had not felt in a long, long time. The look in his face then shifted onto something else, something he didn’t quite understand. “…what about you? That is, if you’re okay with talking about that. I don’t want to overstep. Last thing I want is for you to walk out–”

“I won’t, Hob.” Dream knew Hob had reason for feeling that way. “I don’t believe the terminology you have could define my experience. I have laid with mortals and gods alike, and have worn many faces and names. It is beyond human comprehension.”

Hob seems to take a moment to think about what he’d just heard. Dream feels like he might have thrown too much at his human friend. “…I think I get it. But, and tell me to bugger off I’m wrong, do you prefer to be a particular way? To be with a particular sort of being?”

Dream. Didn’t have an answer.

He never thought of what he preferred. He’d never felt in need of any sort of outside validation, but. That was a lie. He needed it. He just never cared to look for it.

Hob’s smile was what broke him out of the spell of his own self doubt. “It’s okay if you don’t have an answer. It takes people a long time to get it, it took me nearly 600 years! Ah! You know what? I’ve got an idea–” He reached inside his brown messenger bag, pulling out a colourful piece of paper, handing it over to Dream. A pamphlet for a meeting. “We’re having a meeting for the uni’s LGBT clubs here at the Inn. I want this to be a safe space for the kids, and to get them to connect with other folks in the community, share their experiences. It’s tomorrow, and I’d love it if you could make it. I’m sure they would too.”

Dream took the pamphlet in hands, looking at the bright colours and bold fonts, taking in every bit of information Hob was giving him and trying to fill in the gaps of the questions he wouldn’t dare ask. After a moment, he looked up at Hob, allowing himself a small smile. “I shall be in attendance, then.”

—————

Dream stood outside the New Inn, hands tucked safely inside the pockets of his coat jacket. He watched as groups of young adults arrived, greeting each other cheerfully. The hair colours and outfits reminded him of his sister, Delirium, but they all seemed to be more in line with her previous self; delighted to be there, happy to meet their friends. A flag danced in the light summer breeze on a pole next to the window, the stripes of colours brightening up the already lively scene. A rainbow, Hob had told him the day before, was the most recognizable symbol of the queer community. It now was accompanied by stripes of light pink and blue, white, black and brown. Dream enjoyed good symbolism, and he could feel the meaning of those colours to all who were present from their daydreams alone.

He, however, still felt like an outsider. Like he wasn't really meant to be there, save for Hob's generous invite. Dream was not defined by the same standards humanity aligned itself with; in fact, he wasn't defined by anything at all. He was not an individual, but the safe arms in which those dreamers rested every night, the common thread in their hopes, in their restful slumber. It would be silly to think that he'd need to identify as one thing or another, really. He was there for Hob . Because Hob invited him. Because he wanted to know more about the everyday life of his dearest friend. Because he wanted to hear him talk, see him inspire others with his tales, wanted to hear the sound of his voice, the gentle way in which he made people feel welcome, cared for, loved, he wanted–

Dream thought it best to wait it out, at least until most people had already arrived, until he had an idea of just how many young, hopeful minds would be in the vicinity. After escaping the Burgess Manor, Dream was faced with a considerable raise in the amount of dreamers under his care. He would not admit it to anyone but himself, but at times, it became too much even for him to bear. The idea of willingly walking into a space with so many people was daunting, to say the least. So he waited, watched as the New Inn became packed with dreamers, feeling his palms dampen inside the pockets of his coat.

Taking the first step towards the door was difficult. Pushing it open was even harder. Dream stepped in, careful not to bump into anyone or to even get too close. The sound of the little bell that was supposed to announce his arrival had no effect, as it was overtaken by the sound of chatter inside the Inn. It was better that way, Dream thought. Not having Hob rush to greet him. That way he could take a moment to adjust to his surroundings, maybe even blend in, become invisible. In hindsight, his usual choice of attire did anything but blend in there. He was a dark little cloud in a sky full of bright colours, like a multi-coloured sunset on a tropical beach. And of course, every sunset had its monarch, shining brightly, commanding the attention. That, of course, was Hob.

"Hello there, kids! Glad to see most of you could make it!" The cheerful, gentle register of Hob's voice filled the room, filtered by the small but potent speaker he'd rented just for the occasion. Dream could hear his voice clearly, and it helped him tune out everything else that wasn't his beloved friend. "This is the first of hopefully many meetings of our beloved Queer Clubs here at my beloved New Inn. I want you all to know this is a safe space for you all no matter what part of the gender and sexuality spectrums you fall on. The only things I won't accept here are discrimination of any kind, and anyone that thinks Lawrence Cheney shouldn't have won season 2 of Drag Race UK. Are we clear on that one?"

Laughter filled the room, and Dream couldn't help but allow his lips a small smile. Hob truly was a marvel. How anyone could shine so brightly was beyond even the dream lord's knowledge, but he was glad to be able to bask in that glow from time to time. He wished he could do it more often.

Hob was saying other things, Dream thought. Instructions on seating arrangements, subjects to be discussed, discounts on food and drinks. All Dream could do was watch as Hob did more than just make everyone feel welcome, but inspired them with hope and joy, a gentle breeze of acceptance, the embrace of a parent, the empathy of an equal. There was much to work with here, much to inspire new dreams. Dreams of comfort and love, of community and pride.

"Dream? You in there, love?"

Hob's voice broke the spell he himself had cast over Dream, who could now see his friend's palm waving in front of his eyes. He'd become lost in thought, it seemed. Dream's nose scrunched up at the interruption, looking at Hob with his usual look of curiosity. There was still much he needed to catch up on when it came to non verbal communication. "Aye. I'm here. Have I not fully manifested my presence?"

Hob chuckled, and his eyes wrinkled at the corners. "Oh, yes. Physically, at least." Dream's brows furrowed in worry, and he was glad Hob was quick enough to notice when something had gone over his head. "Just a joke– hey, I'm glad you could make it. The kids will love meeting you."

"Meeting me? There are far too many people here for you to make introductions. Besides, I know them all, and they all know me. They just do not remember it during waking hours."

This felt like a plausible enough explanation to keep Hob from actually introducing him to everyone in attendance. But Hob was far too optimistic to be dissuaded so easily. "I'm not talking about introducing them to Morpheus. I'd like them to meet my friend, Dream."

"I do not see the difference." He shouldn't say why he couldn't bear the idea of being introduced to so many people. Shouldn't burden Hob with his problems, that wouldn't exist had he just not been captured in the first place. Dream had been good at hiding his discomfort so far, and he'd continue to do so.

…well, maybe he was not so good at it. Not when Hob's eyes so clearly conveyed the worry that had just settled in his heart. It was difficult to deny Hob the truth when his warm, calloused hands took Dream's into his own so carefully, squeezing gently, as if saying you can trust me. I've got you. "It's okay if you'd rather not. I know it can be overwhelming sometimes."

"...thank you." Dream replied with a murmur. Hob gifted him with a smile. It seemed a lot could be said with just the eyes.

————

Even if Dream didn't intend on actually joining in on the conversations being held, he was glad to follow Hob along and listen to the discussions. It was amazing seeing just how bright the kids really were: they spoke of justice and equality, of inclusivity, of respect and love, of family and religion and sex and responsibility. It was a wider range of topics than he'd expected, an awareness of self he didn't think humans would ever possess, and now, he was glad to be proven wrong. He listened to their shared experiences, to the kindness in their eyes as they lifted each other up, the melody of their laughter and the bravery in their voices as they spoke of injustices they'd lived. It was fascinating, really.

What Dream was truly surprised to find was that people had, after all, an understanding of self that went beyond just physical. Hob brought him closer to a group of kids who were in a long discussion on gender identity. Some of them felt comfortable with the gender they'd been "assigned with at birth", others did not feel any affinity for it. Some of them had changed their bodies to fit with how they felt on the inside, and Dream couldn't help but feel enormous empathy for them, for the way they had to fight to exist in a body that didn't feel like a trap. It was something Dream always took for granted, until he himself felt the horror of having no agency over himself. The pain they went through to guarantee they'd have the right to live authentically. Dream's body had never been limited to an exclusive physical manifestation; he was as he felt like. Fluid , as one of the bright colour haired people had pointed out while explaining their own experience. They reminded Dream of his own sibling, Desire. Someone else brought up how they didn't particularly feel like they had a gender, and that the language surrounding it didn't particularly bother them. Agender, the girl said proudly. Dream wondered if there was any right or wrong way to declare oneself fluid or agender. Then he realised the tightness in his chest when the thought occurred to him.

"Are you alright?" Once again, Hob's voice brought him back to the Waking. Dream could now feel Hob's hand on his own again, but he wasn't sure what exactly had warranted it.

"Your hands were shaking."

Once again, Dream's physical form betrayed him. It was also clear how the conversation surrounding them had gone quiet, and more eyes than he would have liked had landed on their linked hands. He didn't like being watched. Like that.

"Oh, Mr. G, is this your boyfriend?" one of them asked, teasingly. "Would have never guessed you had a thing for goths!"

"Marissa, stop!" someone else said, poking the girl on the shoulder apprehensively. The next thing they said was soft as a whisper. "They are clearly not feeling well."

They.

Dream had never considered himself as they. But this person, whoever they were, preferred "not to assume" his gender. And the empathy displayed for his discomfort was something he wasn't expecting either. Hob seemed to be about to say something, but Dream was quicker.

"There is no need to worry for my well-being, but I thank you for your kindness." Dream allowed himself to smile once again. These children were going places, he knew it. "You may address me as he , if necessary. I would not oppose her or them either." It felt liberating to say it, and Dream didn't really know why. He did know, however, that he suddenly felt brave. "I am not Professor Gadlen's boyfriend , but I am honoured to call him my dearest, most cherished friend."

Dream looked at Hob, who seemed to be awestruck by his words. It was amusing to see him like that, and it lit something else inside him. This meeting was making Dream experience a range of feelings he'd forgotten about. He showed Hob a smile, and Hob smiled back at him, warm and gentle as ever. Their hands were still linked together. Dream had no intention of letting go. "Ah, yes. This little prick here is indeed my dearest, oldest friend. I did want them to meet you guys. I'm glad I was right about it."

When Hob said it, it made Dream's heart sing.

"...so you're fuckbuddies?"

" Marissa! "

————

After a few hours and many, many rounds of different conversations, Hob gathered the group once again, thanking them for coming and congratulating everyone on the success of their first meeting. Dream couldn't help but notice how Hob seemed unable to stop smiling. He could feel the pride and relief radiating off of his tanned skin and kind eyes. Dream wished he could have it all directed at himself, that gentleness.

Hob's boyfriend. Now that would be something.

Dream sat on the booth table behind the bar where he and Hob usually held their meetings and waited for everyone to leave. He wanted some time alone with Hob, even if just to hear what his beloved friend had to say about what he thought of the meeting, just to hear Hob's voice, the only music suited for Dream's ears.

He also had so many new feelings inside himself to explore. Those he could tend to later.

"Hey there, handsome stranger." Hob said as he sat across from Dream on the table, taking Dream's hand in his as if it was just the way they always did things. Maybe it could be. It wouldn't hurt (too much) to hope, would it? "Come here often?"

"Only when I'm in search of an epiphany." Dream couldn't bother to hide the fondness in his own voice, nor the relief he felt to have Hob's hand cradling his own again. "I am impressed, Professor Gadlen. You have gathered a group of exceptionally bright minds. It gives me hope for a better future for humanity."

"Wow Dream, that is… that is really high praise, especially coming from you." Hob seemed flushed, and Dream wondered what else he could do to cause that reaction, to see Hob shy and pretty like that again and again. "I learned a long time ago that I have to build the future I want to live in. But in all honesty… I'm more interested in the present right now."

"Oh, is that so?" Hob's optimism was infectious, it seemed. Dream too could only focus on the present moment. "I am glad to be able to share it with you."

There was a short silence shared between them after that. It was as if neither of them were ready to say whatever it was they clearly needed. Dream tried to take comfort in the feeling of Hob's hand in his, rubbing the back of Hob's hand with his thumb.

His mistake was looking up to meet Hob's eyes.

"There is much I have learned today." Dream decided he'd be the one to break the silence. He'd be the one to take the leap, because he knew Hob had made sure he'd make a safe landing. He knew that no matter what happened, no matter how much he could get hurt, he was safe. He could trust Hob with his heart, even if there was a chance that he would break it. "I often make the mistake of thinking there is nothing more to my existence than what I have already discovered. I contain all conscious minds throughout the universe, their lives, hopes and dreams. Yet, I forget that the tales of others cannot substitute one's own experience, only enlighten it."

Hob listened to Dream's words attentively. He looked anxious, but would not interrupt. Dream knew he wouldn't. He knew how much Hob cherished the moments where Dream felt ready to share something new. "Today, you have once more shown me there is much I have to learn. For that, I am grateful, Hob Gadling.”

How could Dream not fall in love with someone that treated him like he was the moon? How could the moon not love the sun?

"I'm grateful for you too, you know. The kids loved you. I'm sure I'll be getting asked about you for the rest of the semester. Maybe even longer." Hob's eyes were so fond it made Dream want to cry.

"And how would you like to answer their inquiries?"

"What do you mean?"

"Would you like to tell them of your dearest, oldest friend…" Dream leaned in, bringing Hob's hand to his own cheek. He pressed a soft kiss to Hob's palm, and watched as Hob's eyes followed his every move. There was no turning back from this. "...or would you prefer to tell them about your lover, Hob?"

For a moment, time stopped. Their eyes met, and before Dream could get anxious or regret his words, Hob was already standing and leaning over the table, locking their lips together.

Dream thought he'd heard the sound of people cheering outside one of the windows of the New Inn. Hob would certainly be getting many questions from his students come next monday.

#virgo dream writes #dreamling #the sandman #dream of the endless #morpheus #hob gadling #dream x Hob #Morpheus x Hob #pride fic #dreamling fic #the sandman fic #remember when I used to write?

[laladellakang]

hi.

i’m finally back and i owe you all an explanation. tw a lot of text so the summarised ver. is; i still have writer’s block but i’m feeling more inspired so hopefully content since it is birthday and anniversary month, and i’m revamping this account/editing my fics

so thankfully, i’m not dead, but my account(s) definitely has/have been. the last thing i posted was the beginning of december and the last fic i posted was november

as you all know, i’ve been having constant writer’s block these past few months, and i did some reflecting on my ‘break’ and realised that it’s just a massive accumulation of a lot of things

firstly, it took me so long to just reply to asks because (and i feel like i always say this) i feel horrible if all i do in this acc is yap around and not actually post a fic, because this is why you’re all here for. now i realise that… well maybe if you’re only in it for the fic you wouldn’t follow me and just stalk my page. I DIGRESS, but i just don’t think it’s fair if i come back with no fic, and the problem is; my writer’s block is still going strong.

why and how did this happened has been eating me up terribly and NOW i know why

1. online class is over, so with in person classes and going to uni + my job + maintaining irl relationships, i realised that my brain isn’t entirely focused on just classes and this fic anymore. but i really want it to be because this fic used to be is an escape for me

2. my fucking thesis OH MY GOD. i had so many written assignments + a thesis that writing was suddenly a chore and i wanted to avoid ANYTHING writing

3. my laptop broke :/ thankfully i have a new one now

4. ANXIETY FUCKING SUCKS. as a perfectionist, i feel like my style of writing is so shitty. and i keep trying to fix it but i just don’t know how. i keep rewriting the same thing over and over again just because i think it doesn’t look right

(and also a bonus; i found out a family member of mine is in enhaficblr and i kinda felt sick knowing they might read my stuff)

SO i have ultimately decided to edit and rewrite my fics and keep them within the same link and post BUT keep the archives on wattpad just in case you like them better <3 bc i know the pain of going through fics you liked OR WORSE, COMFORT FICS and finding the links or the work gone

and i’m also going to STOP FUCKING WHINING and try my hardest to write more. i feel like those tiktok comments that go “chop chop movie boy, you chose this life.” i have recently entered the jujutsu kaisen fandom (even though i’m not much of an anime person) and have been really inspired so i hope it can push me through this shitty ass slump i’m in

i love you guys a lot. i see your asks and your comments and they always make me push through (and oftentimes giggle). i’m really really really sorry for the constant wait and i appreciate you so so much. i’ll reply to asks soon 🤍

(pls still love me too 🥺)

#kang della