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azaleakoneko · 6 months

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Doctor’s Orders

Trafalgar D. Water Law x Fem|Reader

Requested by: @strawheart-pirate

A/N: Hii! I went back and forth for a bit about how exactly to do this prompt, but I hope you like it 😊. It was a nice little challenge ❤️‍🩹

Warnings: Super short lived anxiety to set the scene for the fluff! Soft Doctor Law 🫰

Word count: 3.4k

Please note that just because this work is fluff and appropriate for consumption of any age, that cannot be said about the rest of my blog. This is primarily an 18+ Blog and will stay that way, so keep that in mind, thank you!

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˗ˏˋ ༺｡° .ᘛ 𓆩♡𓆪 ᘚ. ° ｡༻ ˎˊ˗

༝༚༝༚ ༝༚༝༚ ༝༚༝༚ ༝༚༝༚

˗ˏˋ ༺｡° .ᘛ 𓆩♡𓆪 ᘚ. ° ｡༻ ˎˊ˗

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Docking on islands to restock when possible certainly wasn’t unusual, but what was intended to be a short stay somehow turned from one day to three — from three to a week and then two as Law agreed to take on patients in return for the supplies he was receiving.

Normally he would’ve just done the bare minimum to get in and out of a town before getting too comfortable and letting his guard down, but something about this island didn’t want to let go of him. It was like he had been called there and didn’t quite know the reason, that is until he met you.

You were so sweet and personable with himself and his crew as you took it upon yourself to load his temporary office with the required supplies donated by the town. At first he hardly spoke a word to you aside from the usual gratitude, but he couldn’t help but take an interest in you the more you came around — admiring how hard you worked to help them out when you really didn’t need to. Your excuse was always something along the lines of ‘doing your due diligence for the town’, or simple enough excuses of citizens personally asking you to deliver goods on their behalf, but to him it always felt like there were words left unsaid behind those pretty lips of yours.

Eventually he accepted that alongside his frequent supply deliveries would be an opportunity to get to know you better, something he disliked less and less the more you opened up to him. Your smile alone made his heart leap and his face heat in a way that left him wondering for a while if perhaps he had caught something while treating the locals. However, after similar symptoms popping up at things like the sound of your voice, slight lingering touches from your delicate hands when you passed him things, or even the way you’d take an interest in his work — even the doctor had to admit to himself that there was more to his interest than just appreciation and that he indeed wasn’t sick. At least, not the type of sick medicine would cure.

Things continued progressing this way, sweet and slow, until one day there was a sudden heavy storm that threw off the routine he had grown to love.

˗ˏˋ ༺｡° .ᘛ 𓆩♡𓆪 ᘚ. ° ｡༻ ˎˊ˗

“She should have been here by now…” Law said to himself as his mind began to drift to the worst case scenarios as he rose to his feet, shoes thudding against the floor anxiously as he walked over to the heavy wooden door, swinging it open to stare out into the downpour. His heart sank and he had knots in the depths of his stomach at the thought of something terrible happening to you. His eyes scanned the darkened horizon and immediately widened when he saw a soaked figure surrounded by parcels being pelted by a merciless torrent of rain. Without a second thought he had already bolted out the door alongside a snap of lightning and rolling thunder outside, thinking about nothing else other than ensuring you hadn’t been harmed.

“Y/N! What were you even thinking still trying to make your delivery run out here in this nasty weather?” Law said with a bite to his voice, but the tremble gave away his true worry. “Come on, let’s get you inside so I can look you over and make sure these scrapes are just artificial.”

He didn’t even give you a chance to retort as he swept your drenched body up into his arms and began to carry you back inside, disregarding the drips littering the floor as he moved to place you down on the sterilized bed usually reserved for the temporary patients that came to see him. “Just lay back and let me check, alright? You’ve seen me use this before, so there’s nothing to fear y/n-ya.”

You nodded and would’ve attempted to stifle a giggle from his concern if it weren’t for your chattering teeth and trembling body preventing you from finding much of anything funny at the moment. “Mhm, I-I trust y-you Doctor.” You managed to murmur out, feeling a bit guilty for making a mess and causing so much unnecessary concern all because you wanted to keep to your schedule so you could spend another evening chatting with him about everything under the now clouded over sun. You certainly got your wish, but you hoped it didn’t come at the cost of wasting his time. “Oh n-no, the supplies!” You said, attempting to sit up and move.

Law placed a firm yet gentle hand on your shoulder with his eyebrows knit together in concern, not even needing to use much force to get you to lay back down on the mattress. “Supplies be damned — they can always be replaced, you on the other hand can’t be. Now let me do my examination before you try to move again. Doctor's orders, you hear me?”

You complied, wet clothing making a soft squelch against the plastic of the bed as you settled in, laying perfectly still with your gaze locked on him in fascination as he began to use his devil fruit powers to check over you with extreme precision. You already knew it was no use protesting until he had made sure himself, regardless of what you said. “S-So? What’s the verdict Doc? Am I gonna live?” You asked with a smirk, wishing you had a warm change of clothes so your teasing wouldn’t lose part of its playful effect from your continued shivering.

Hearing you joke around paired with the conclusive results of his powers had his shoulders sagging in relief. He sighed and put a tattooed hand to his head, satisfied that you really weren’t injured. “Yeah, thankfully you’re gonna be fine. Seriously though, what were you thinking y/n? You’re lucky you weren’t out there too long before I found you.”

“Still w-worrying about me, Trafalgar? I’m fine, really. I’m just a l-little cold and um, quite d-damp…” You said as you lifted one of your waterlogged sleeves as an example. “I just wanted to bring you what you needed — you’re not mad are you? I’m really sorry, I j-just wanted to see you.” It was clear enough by your honest tone that you were remorseful, but it made you worry if you had said something wrong when you saw him look momentarily bewildered by your innocent confession before it seemed the puzzle pieces finally clicked together in his mind. It was for him.

“…” Law looked upset but said nothing as he shook his head and offered his hand out for you to help you up from the examination table. “No, I’m not mad. Not at you or the situation,” He said as he waited for you to sit up and have a firm grip on his hand. “-so yeah, I was worried about you. Now come on, I’ll show you to the bathroom so you can shower and get warmed up. Wouldn’t want you to actually get sick… I have some things I can give you to change into when you’re done. I’ll leave them by the door and toss your wet clothes into the dryer afterwards. Does that sound okay with you?”

You nodded with a genuine smile, more than happy to have been offered his kindness instead of a frigid biting response on this already chilly evening. “Mhm, t-thank you very much d-doctor.” You muttered thankfully as he ushered you into the bathroom and waited for you to close the door.

Once you turned the water on and began to strip away the wet garments that had been stripping you of your body heat you heard his footsteps recede for a bit, returning a few minutes later with a soft rap on the door with his fingers that read ‘e’ and ‘a’. It nearly made you jump since you weren’t accustomed to showering at someone else’s home, let alone someone you were infatuated with, but he was respectful and as promised left the dry clothing by the door; his yellow sweatshirt with his crew’s symbol and a comfortable pair of sweatpants.

“Take your time, I’ll get started on making something hot for you to drink when you get out. Feel free to use any of the stuff in the shower, I don’t mind. Just leave the wet things on the floor, I’ll take care of them.” He called out as he headed to the kitchen, letting you ease into the steaming water to ease away the chill and scrub away the wet filth.

˗ˏˋ ༺｡° .ᘛ 𓆩♡𓆪 ᘚ. ° ｡༻ ˎˊ˗

When you got out you felt fully refreshed, the shivering from the cold now replaced with a slight nervous tremble as you looked at yourself in his clothes — a slight blush decorating your cheeks. “He’s just being nice, don’t think too much of it..” you said to yourself as you ignored your own words, gripping the front of the hoodie and bringing it up to your nose to inhale the scent that still lingered there. It was a musky pine scent that made butterflies tingle in your stomach before you dropped the material and cleared your throat, not wanting to be flustered when you joined him again.

You left the wet items on the floor despite feeling a bit guilty for leaving a mess, but he did say he would take care of it after all. Since you were done you took one last glance at yourself in the mirror before leaving the bathroom and going to look for him. It didn’t take long, you just followed your nose to the alluring scent of hot chocolate and peppermint to the kitchen; eyes widening in delight when you saw the steaming cup topped with whipped cream just waiting for you on the table across from the considerate doctor himself.

“That smells delicious! Thank you, Trafalgar…” You gasped as you picked up the cup and eagerly took a sip, disregarding the white foam that now covered the top part of your lip. The hot liquid scorched your tongue and throat a little as you gulped it down, but the way it warmed your insides had you sighing contentedly before flashing him a grateful smile. “I don’t know how to repay you for all of this…”

“There is no need for you to repay me y/n. You do plenty just by bringing me supplies and giving me company all the time…” Law said as he held up a hand and shook his head, a light dusting of pink across his cheeks as he looked at you. It also seemed you weren’t the only one that liked how you looked in his clothing, evident by the way he could hardly take his eyes off of you now. “If you really want to thank me though, please be more careful. I like seeing you too, but not if it puts you at risk.” He said before diverting his attention from you and grabbing his own cup in an attempt to hide his embarrassment from sounding like an overprotective partner when it hadn’t even been something in your control — let alone the fact that he was just being a friend to you and nothing more.

At least that’s what he continued to think to himself as he put his cup down and cleared his throat. “I’m really glad that you’re alright though... It’s still too stormy out there for me to feel comfortable sending you home. You can stay here tonight if you’re comfortable with that? I can take the couch — you can go ahead and take the bed for the night.”

You nearly choked on your drink when you heard him offer his bed for the night, but you couldn’t deny that the thought of not having to leave was appealing. You carefully set the cup down with a delicate clink against the table and wiped your mouth with the back of your hand. “R-Really? I wouldn’t want to impose… I can take the couch, it’s not a problem. Besides, I’m not even tired yet.” That was true enough. How could you possibly be tired now knowing you would be sleeping under the same roof as your beloved doctor? It seemed impossible, improbable even, yet that was your current predicament thanks to the heavy rains.

“Tired or not it wouldn’t be right to have you sleep on the couch when I have a perfectly good bed you could use. Doctor’s orders.” Law said as a playful smirk began to pull at the corners of his lips, clearly loving being able to take advantage of his title to force your hand on the sleeping arrangements. Not like he minded — he’d fallen asleep in much more uncomfortable places than a soft, warm couch during his countless hours of medicinal study.

You puffed your cheeks up and crossed your arms but knew he’d already made up his mind. “Fine, but can we just… talk for a while? I mean, I did almost die and all just so I could come and give you some company.” Sure it was a dramatization, but he was already not playing fair so you weren’t going to either. “Or are visiting hours done for the night?”

Law scoffed amusedly and walked around the table so he was in front of you before plopping one of his hands on the top of your head to ruffle your hair softly. “I think I can push back visiting hours, just for you. But first... you have something on your face just here—” he mumbled as he raised his other hand, index finger swiping along your top lip to collect the forgotten cream from the hot chocolate before thoughtlessly popping his finger into his mouth, swirling the cream off of his finger with his tongue before realizing that was probably too much.

You were stunned as you watched him, feeling your heart skip from his closeness and the random act of intimacy. “T-Trafalgar…?” You stuttered his name quietly, all hopes of hiding your flushed cheeks gone out the window. If it were possible you’d probably have steam coming out of your ears, but in reality you stood there like a deer in headlights with widened eyes and a yearning expression on your face. Part of you wished he would’ve just kissed you to get it off, only making your mortification worse.

Law thought about it too as he saw your sweet, confused yet wanting expression, but he wasn’t sure if it would be too much so he chose to back off a bit with a sheepish smile as he scratched the back of his head and took a step back. “Sorry, I guess I got a bit carried away didn’t I… Here, let me take your cup. We can just go sit on the couch and talk until you get tired, if I didn’t make things weird?”

It took a moment for your brain to rewire, but when it did you cleared your throat and shook your head. “U-Um it’s not weird, I just wasn’t expecting it. I thought you were going to.. going to um..” you began to say before stopping yourself. “Never mind, it’s not important! S-Sure, sounds good to me.” Never before had you wanted to kick yourself more than in that moment, but he just smiled at you knowingly as he took the cup from you and began to wash it in the sink along with his own before setting them both in the dish rack side by side.

He then led you to the couch and let you get settled before sitting beside you, noticing your feeble attempts at maintaining distance as the two of you discussed everything you’d initially planned on bringing up to him. That didn’t last long however. The more you talked and the later it got, the more you sank into his side until he had his arm slung comfortably behind you, casually holding onto you as if it were a normal thing between the two of you. It was comforting paired with the sound of the rain still pelting the windows outside, urging you to stay inside with Law where it was safe and warm.

“Are you getting tired yet…?” Law asked softly as he raised his other hand to tuck some of your loose strands behind your ear, feeling his heart spill over with warmth and unbridled affection when you looked up at him. His devil fruit allowed him to steal hearts at will, but that look you gave him alone ensured that you had stolen his without even trying. “You look like you’re barely keeping your eyes open. I can carry you to the bed if you need me to, y/n.”

A sleepy pout knitted your brows together and your hand attempted to grip onto his shirt in protest but your grip was hardly strong enough to do so when you were only barely staving off the lull of sleep thanks to his attentiveness and warmth. “I’m not falling asleep. I’m wide awake, see…?” You said as you made a show of widening your eyes just for your lids to quickly return to their half lidded state — your hand partially sliding down his chest since it took everything you had just to stay conscious.

Law chuckled, his laugh reverberating in his chest and making you shake slightly and making it ten times harder to stay awake from hearing the soft pleasant sound you adored so much so closely. “Yeah, I see that…” he said as he sighed and pulled you closer into his side, angling his hold on you so that it would be easier for him to scoop you up and carry you into the room when you finally passed out. “You put up a good fight, but I think it’s the sandman’s shift with you now sweetheart…”

If you were more conscious that comment would’ve sent you into another fluster, but all you could process was him trying to move you and it resulted in you using the last of your energy to cling to him. “Please just let me stay wherever you are, Traffy…”

Law paused for a moment at your use of a nickname on him in return while asking something like that of him. It was so cute watching you fight him even now, and he had to admit it was a nice thought — getting to fall asleep with you tucked inside of his arms, safe from the rainstorm and warm in his bed. He sighed once more and leaned his head down to place a chaste kiss against your forehead as a distraction before swiping you up effortlessly in his arms, head nestled against his shoulder, and took you into the darkness of his organized bedroom to lay you down on his bed.

He placed you down on the bed, helping you slip under the covers with a tender smile on his face as he watched you dig your face into his pillow and visibly relax. “That’s it, get comfortable.” He hummed quietly as he tried to back off and let you fall deeper into the slumber you so badly tried to put off, but your hand caught his when he tried to walk away, your next words making him feel like he had no choice but to give you whatever you wanted.

“Can you please stay with me? I want you here…” You said with a half conscious yawn, struggling to open your eyes and look at him. He’d be sure to tease you in the morning about how you refused to let him leave the room, but for now his resolve crumbled and he crawled into the bed beside you, pulling you against his chest — not even surprised at the contented hum that left your lips as you nuzzled your cheek against his shoulder, eyelids beginning to flutter closed once again now that you’d gotten what you wanted. “Thank you, that’s much better. Goodnight Traffy, you’re the best…”

Law couldn’t take how sweet you were being to him, feeling like he would burst from the happiness he felt. He stroked your hair affectionately with one hand as he gently tilted your face towards his, almost talking himself out of it when he saw your sleepy confused expression, but nonetheless he pressed his lips to yours in a short and sweet kiss. “Goodnight y/n… Sleep well, sweetheart.” Then he sank into the bed and pulled you close once more.

There was so much more he wanted to say, so much he wanted to offer you; like joining him on the Polar Tang when they did decide to leave, but that would have to wait until both of you were rested. For now all he wanted to do was wait out the rain wrapped up in this cozy little bubble with you.

All content unless otherwise stated belongs to: ©HauntedHeartHowl, previously HowlTheSanjiSimp. Please do not copy, modify, translate, feed my fan fictions to AI, repost or promote my writing or graphics on other platforms. Please DO feel free to comment, reblog or follow <3

#hauntedhearthowl #howl’s saccharine autumn #one piece fluff #trafalgar law x reader #trafalgardwaterlaw #trafalgar law x y/n #trafalgar law fluff #trafalgar law fanfiction #one piece fanfiction #one piece law x reader #one piece x female reader #one piece x y/n #Spotify #no beta we die like men

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sickly-qt · 5 months

Note

Okay I just found your acc and I’m obsessed with drew! Do you think you could write something where she gets pretty drunk to the point of throwing up and she is so out of it she lets Finn see her? No pressure :)

wowowow, look at me, answering an ask for the first time in forever. I am trying my best lol. This is kind of important in terms of different characters becoming acquaintances but otherwise it's just shameless emeto. This also takes place a little while back when Drew and Finn had been dating for less than a year, presently they've been together for almost 2 :)

Enjoy! I'm sorry if i'm a bit rusty

~~~

Work events with an open bar always mystified Drew. She never really understood why an employer would encourage drinking to excess… or at the very least tempting their employees to drink to excess. These were the thoughts running through her mind as she picked up her glass and walked away from the bar, sipping on what must’ve been her third double vodka sprite of the night. She knew that she should probably slow down, the anxiety of being at one of Finn’s work banquets washing away with every glass of wine over dinner. Her head felt airy and conversation was coming easy and she was actually having a better time than she thought she would’ve, probably too good of a time if she were being honest.

Drew was surprised when Finn had asked her to go with to be his plus one to his work event. Sure, they had been dating for around 7 months and they were basically living together, but things like this really cemented that they were serious in a weird way. He wanted to be seen with her in front of his coworkers as well as the new company that had just partnered with the company Finn helped run.

“Hey, Drew! Come and meet my new partner.” Finn called, grabbing her hand and leading her through the crowd. Everything went by her in a blur and made her dizzy, this is when it really settled in that she was undeniably drunk. They came to a stop in front of another surprisingly young couple. A tall blonde man who looked a little intense and a woman with reddish hair and brown eyes smiled at her kindly. Drew was just focused on seeming sober, and feeling like she was failing miserably.

“This is my partner, Drew. Drew, this is one of the heads of the company we just partnered with, Remington Paxton and his partner Mila.” Finn introduced them all.

“Hi it’s very nice to meet you, and you can both just call me Remy.” the man responded, holding out his hand. He was almost alarmingly clean cut in the most crisp, and probably most expensive suit Drew had probably ever seen. Mila, on the other hand, seemed a lot more laid back in a simple blue tea length dress and beautiful silver heels, she looked like an auburn cinderella.

“It’s nice to meet you both as well.” Drew said, shaking both of their hands and then promptly zoning out as Finn and Remy launched into a conversation about PR and advertising. She had a very loose idea of what Finn did at work in the first place and at this point Drew could barely wrap her mind around what she had to do the next day let alone how different PR tactics can be used to benefit marketing and advertising.

“I never really know what he’s talking about once he gets going.” Mila said, taking a sip of her champagne. “I just smile and nod.”

“I’m glad I’m not the only one.” Drew smiled, not really in the mood to conversate. She was starting to feel woozy and a little nauseous. All of the anxiety from before her second glass of wine, rushing back. Suddenly, the elegant ballroom felt stuffy and her dress felt too constricting, and she was really warm. She heard Mila start to say something else but Drew couldn’t be bothered to pay attention, everything was spinning and she felt lightheaded.

“Excuse me. I’m so sorry I need to get some air.” Drew mumbled, sitting her drink down on the nearest table and rushing away. She had intended to actually do exactly that but on her way to the door nausea hit her like a brick wall and she gagged harshly into her hand. Drew quickly detoured to the bathroom, grateful that the unisex bathroom was open and she wasn’t about to be sick in a stall. She had barely gotten the door locked behind her before vomit rocketed up her throat, spraying through her fingers and dripping down her arm. She barely had any time to throw the toilet seat up before she gagged again, her dinner coming up in violent waves.

She steadied herself on the back of the toilet, her other hand gripping her stomach and she took a couple breaths. A knock at the door caused her to jump.

“Drew, it’s me. Are you alright?” It was Finn.

Drew swallowed and flushed the toilet, walking over to the sink to wash her hands. She was a complete mess, vomit in her hair and down the front of her dress. The sight made her gag again. What was worse was the trail of sick across the floor and on the back of the toilet. “Fuck.” She whispered before unlocking the door and letting Finn in.

“Oh fuck.” Finn mumbled, seeing the state of his girlfriend and the bathroom.

“I’m so sorry.” Drew sniffled, drunk and emotional.

“It’s okay babe. Uhm… let’s get you cleaned up a little and then we can let an attendant know that someone got sick in the bathroom and then we can go home, okay?” Finn had grabbed some toilet paper and started cleaning the puke out of her hair.

“I’m gonna throw up again.” Drew whined, feeling sick and now embarrassed. She covered her mouth with her hand before bending over the toilet again and gagging.

“Okay, okay. Just get it out.” Finn stood behind her, holding her hair out of her face and rubbing her back as all of the wine and vodka sprites came back up in a disgusting slurry.

“Oh god, I’m so sorry.” Drew said, out of breath. She stood up straight and closed her eyes, taking deep breaths before a burp rumbled up her chest, sending her back over the toilet although nothing came up.

“Shh, no more apologizing okay?” Finn reached around her and flushed the toilet, still rubbing her back. “Are you done for now?”

“I think so.” Drew mumbled, blowing her nose with some toilet paper. “I’m sorry you had to see that, I feel so disgusting.”

“A little vomit isn’t going to scare me away, Drew. I love you, and I still love you after seeing you be a puke geyser.” He wet some toilet paper and tried his best to clean up the front of her dress.

“Thanks… I love you too…”

“Let's get you home my love.”

#my ocs #emeto #my writing #finn #drew #illness #sickfic

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sleeping-on-cracking-ice · 3 years

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Two Peculiar Admirers | Shuntaro Chishiya, Suguru Niragi

PART 1 | PART 2

{Alice In Borderland Masterlist}

Characters: Chishiya, Niragi (ft. Kuina)

Summary: Niragi finally finds some time alone with you, but of course, Chishiya is right on his tail.

Warnings: swearing, suggestive themes, conflict, angst, mention of sexual assault

Word Count: 3.3k

Author’s Note: The ending is a little unrealistic because I wasn’t sure how else to conclude it. This is for you anon!

You and Chishiya slowly made your way down to the pool to spend the next few hours at with Kuina. On the way, Chishiya had to keep sniffing and wiping his nose to stop the blood dripping. It made you frown. There was no way just smacking his nose would make it bleed that much.

Chishiya soon asked you a question that was itching in the back of his mind. “So, you know Niragi huh?” he questioned, looking at you.

You looked back at him confused. “Huh?”

“I said so you know Niragi?”

“Oh,” you understood, turning your head ahead of you again. “Yeah, I know him. We aren’t close, but he seems to think we are.” You laughed at the statement, seeming to find it as a joke almost. But Chishiya was not laughing.

“Yeah, I know,” he said bluntly. “Look I know you may think he just has some harmless crush on you, but he honestly is a really evil person Y/N.”

Chishiya wasn’t sure what he was going to get out of telling you that. Was he generally worried for your safety around Niragi? Or did he just want you all to himself? He didn’t know his aim himself.

You furrowed your eyebrows. You didn’t like the way he was talking to you, like you were stupid or something.

“Chishiya, I know. I’m not an idiot,” you said, matter-of-factly.

Chishiya had a small moment of panic. He was afraid he had offended you. “Yeah, I know! That is not what I meant at all,” he recollected himself, waving his hands in front of him in worry.

You both then walked in silence the rest of the way down to the pool. It was rather awkward after that, making the air a bit tense. Chishiya wanted desperately to restart a conversation but he couldn’t think of anything to say.

When you arrived at the back entrance of the hotel that led out to the pool, as soon as the large glass doors opened your ears rang from the loud music. It was the same as every night, people drunkenly dancing and trying to make the best of their own lives while they lasted.

Chishiya quickly scanned the area. There was no way he’d be able to keep an eye out for Niragi in this kind of crowd. He thought it was best he just stayed close to you in case the insistent man decided to approach you.

He turned towards you to see you distracted by a few rowdy people by the pool. He reached out and carefully linked his arm with yours and pulled you towards him.

You turned around, surprised by the sudden bold move and looked up at Chishiya, but he didn’t meet eyes with you. You shrugged and just thought it was his attempt of flirting.

Chishiya dragged you around the area looking for Kuina. He kept you joined as his hip, sometimes accidentally pulling you a little too harshly by the arm and making you wince in pain. He was lowkey freaking you out. He’s never acted like this before.

When he found Kuina over on a small, secluded table near the wall, he breathed a sigh of relief. At least he wouldn’t have to face Niragi alone now if he found him.

“Kuina!” you yelled out as you saw her too. She shifted her eyes and saw you and Chishiya, a smile painting itself across her attractive face. You pulled your arm out of Chishiya’s grip and ran over to her.

Chishiya watched and grinned happily at you two as you jumped into her arms for a big hug. He was glad to have you with him. At least when you were by his side, he can protect you from that homicidal prick.

You all sat down, sipping drinks that Kuina went and got from the bar for all of you. All three of you enjoyed yourselves and laughed at each other’s jokes and stories from life before the Borderlands. It felt nice to connect with your friends more emotionally.

You stood up after a while and turned to the two of them. “I’m just going to go to the bathroom,” you said. After drinking multiple margaritas, you were a bit dizzy and desperate for the toilet.

Chishiya stood up quickly. “I’m coming with you,” he said, already climbing out of his seat.

You shook your hands towards him. “No, no, no! Chishiya it’s fine! I can go by myself. Thanks anyway though.” You sent a cheeky wink his way and started walking away from the table.

Chishiya watched as you started getting further and further away from him. He began slightly panicking. He knew that if Niragi saw a chance to get you alone, he wouldn’t hesitate to take it.

Before he could even stand up again, Kuina grabbed his arm, making him turn his attention towards her. “Oi, what’s your deal tonight? You’ve been bouncing your leg under the table and fiddling with every little thing. The hell has got you so worried?” Kuina asked with a curious look on her face.

Chishiya glanced quickly back towards you to check you weren’t that far before turning back to Kuina. “I think Niragi’s been stalking Y/N. I’ve been keeping an eye out because I’m worried that he’ll snatch her the moment she’s alone,” he whispered to her.

Kuina’s eyes widened in shock. “Niragi’s after her?! For what?!” she whisper-yelled.

Chishiya shook his head in uncertainty. “I’m not too sure, but he seems to show a lot of interest in her,” he said, turning to see you making your way through the entrance to the hotel.

“I have to go.” He shot up out of his seat and tried to evade his way through the crowd that suddenly appeared near the entrance. His anxiety spiked as you left his sight, and he began panicking on the inside. He had to get to you before Niragi did.

But through his panic, he failed to notice the tall man follow you inside, closely behind with his usual rifle slung over his shoulder. He finally caught you alone, and he wasn’t going to waste the time he had.

*************

You happily strolled down the few hallways to reach the lobby. There was a women’s bathroom nearby there that you could go to, so you slowly were making your way there.

You didn’t expect your path to be so abruptly interrupted by a sudden hand over your mouth. Your eyes widened and you instantly gripped the hand’s wrist, attempting to pull it off. You thrashed around violently and your heart pumped adrenaline through your body widely as the stranger locked their other arm around your waist, beginning to pull you backwards into a nearby room.

You kicked and bashed your body against them to try and break free, but nothing was working. This person was much taller and much stronger than you.

As you saw the door frames appear on either side of you, you reached out and gripped it as tight as you could, attempting to pull yourself out of their grasp urgently. You were panicking, screaming against the hand that was over your mouth to alert someone nearby, but no one would’ve been able to hear you.

Your stomach dropped as your attacker pulled harshly suddenly, almost breaking your fingers gripping desperately on the door frame from the force. They slipped from the wood and you fell backwards into the stranger’s chest. They quickly regained their balance from your fall and kicked the door shut with their foot.

You still had fight in you, giving them a painful jab to the ribcage with your elbow. They groaned in pain and their grip loosened on you, allowing you to take your chance and crawl away towards the closed door.

But they saw your plan and grabbed you by the ankle, pulling you back violently towards them causing you to almost faceplant onto the floorboards below you. They got to their feet quickly and jumped over you to the door, locking it in a rush then turning back to you.

As you regained your strength and kneeled back onto your heels to get away from, you noticed their familiar face. Of course, it was him.

“Niragi?! What the fuck?!” you exclaimed, stumbling to your feet and holding onto the wall for support.

“I thought you were someone else! What the hell was that for?!” you yelled at him.

Niragi dropped his rifle to the ground. How he managed to still have it on him after that you had no idea. But the look he was giving you now made you not care so much.

“I did that because I wanted to do this.”

Before you could even retort against his statement, Niragi rushed to you and pressed you harshly against the wall with his hands on your waist while pressing his lips against yours.

Your heart stopped. You didn’t know what to do. You stayed completely frozen in his arms as he began moving his mouth against yours, sliding his tongue along your bottom lip. That’s when you came to terms with what was happening.

You pressed your hands against his chest and shoved. Niragi stumbled back with a smirk painted on his pierced face.

You couldn’t say anything. You were so in shock.

“Aw, have I left my little mouse speechless? It would be a first for you wouldn’t it sweetie?” he cooed, cradling your cheeks in his hands and lifting your head so you were looking directly into his eyes.

“You’re so beautiful, I just want to eat you up.” He pressed his lips against yours again, placing a gentle hand on your neck to turn your head sideways to make the kiss deeper.

You slowly closed your eyes and melted into his kiss, making him smirk against your lips. It felt strange. This man has done nothing but annoy you and stalk you the whole time you’ve been at The Beach, yet that moment felt so right.

You wrapped your arms around his upper back and balled his buttoned shirt into your fists as you leant closer to him, making him snake his arms around your waist to pull your closer, if that was even possible.

You pulled back from him after a couple of minutes, leaving a trail of saliva between your lips. You laughed and wiped your mouth before looking into his darkened eyes.

Niragi growled as he felt your hands slowly make their way under his shirt. “Are you sure you want to do this now?” he asked, raising a suggestive eyebrow to you.

“Isn’t that why you tackled me into this room with you?” you fired back, running your hands along his broad back.

Niragi chuckled and smirked. “I guess so.” He yet again crashed his lips onto yours, continuing where you left off.

Just as you felt him moving his hands lower on your body, the door handle suddenly jiggled violently from the other side, making you and Niragi jump in surprise. Someone was trying to get into the room.

“Y/N?! Are you in there?!” you heard them yell. It was Chishiya, you could recognize that voice anywhere.

You turned your head towards the door, thinking whether you should answer him or not. Niragi groaned in front of you, annoyed about being interrupted. “Just leave him, he’ll leave soon,” he said, leaning his head down and running his tongue along your neck to get your attention on him again.

You thought for a second before turning back to him again. “Okay.”

Before you knew it, the door suddenly erupted with a huge bang, making it shake violently. “What the fuck?!” Niragi yelled in surprise. He wasn’t expecting Chishiya to get so insistent so quickly.

“Y/N?! Y/N are you in there?! Answer me!” He sounded a bit desperate. He probably heard Niragi swear, making his suspicions rise.

You pushed on Niragi’s chest to get him to give you space to move. But he refused staying tightly pressed against you, almost covering your entire body with his.

You frowned up at him. “Niragi, please move!” you begged him, pushing against him with more force.

��Why? Why does it matter if Chishiya sees us?” he questioned you.

He had a point. Why did you care so much if Chishiya saw you? It should not matter to you, but why did it?

You took too long to think about what to do before the hinges of the door came loose from Chishiya’s barging. It gave way and he stumbled in, locking eyes with the scene before him.

There you stood, pressed up against the wall by Niragi with dark bites littering your neck. He felt sick from the sight.

Before you could even defend yourself or say anything, Chishiya barged his whole body towards Niragi, causing him to lose his footing from the impact and fall onto the ground, his temple narrowly missing the corner of the bed.

“How fucking dare you! You really think you can act all sleazy and creepy towards Y/N without me noticing?! As soon as she left the table, I knew something was bound to happen! And look where I found her! Forced up against a wall by you with fear all over her face! You really think I’m that fucking stupid Niragi?!” Chishiya spat out harsh words to Niragi over and over while you stood there awkwardly, trying to think of something to say.

After Chishiya had finished he turned around and had a worried expression. “Oh my god, Y/N are you okay? Where did he hurt you?” he asked in a panicky tone. He checked all over your body for any more bruise marks or any other injuries, worried that Niragi had harmed you.

“Um…” you said, not knowing what to say.

Chishiya stopped in his actions when he heard a sickening laugh behind him. He turned around to see Niragi throwing his head back and letting out the loudest and most psychotic laugh he had ever heard. Anger boiled in his blood.

“What the fuck are you laughing at?” he said harshly.

Niragi regained his breath and pressed his hand against his chest, trying to calm his heartbeat. “Oh Chishiya, you’re so idiotic. Trust me, she wanted it,” he chuckled, climbing back to his feet.

Chishiya frowned at him. “What do you mean? Of course she didn’t.”

“Oh, then how do you explain her kissing me back? Or running her hands up and down my back? Or her moaning underneath my tongue on her neck?” Niragi licked his teeth like a dog to annoy Chishiya.

You knew that last part wasn’t true. Niragi was most likely telling fibs to push Chishiya’s buttons.

Chishiya turned back to you with a hurt expression. You couldn’t look him in the eyes. You were now feeling ashamed for even being attracted to the deluded man in the first place.

Your actions spoke louder than words as he understood what you meant. He looked down and shook his head before lifting his feet and walking towards the broken door briskly.

“Wait, no. Chishiya,” you said, grabbing his arm to stop him from leaving. He stopped and looked you in the eye with his empty orbs.

“I-I… I don’t know what to say,” you admitted, lowering your head in shame and loosening your hold on his arm.

“No, it’s fine Y/N. You don’t have to say anything,” he said in his usual careless tone. “I get it. I just think you could’ve told me that you weren’t interested in a nicer way than this.”

He ripped his arm out of your grasp and made his way out of the room. You felt your heart rate pick up as you watched him disappear around the corner. You couldn’t let him leave like that.

As you were just about to chase him out, you looked back to Niragi, who had watched the whole ordeal that just happened between you and Chishiya.

“So, you want to meet me at my room at one?” he asked in a suggestive tone.

You cringed at his words. “Go to hell,” you spat before following Chishiya to try and reason with him.

Niragi smirked at your words. “Ah, there she is. There’s the flame I fell in love with,” he mumbled to himself. He leant down and grabbed his rifle off the ground and slung it over his shoulders. “Maybe next time, when we don’t have any interruptions.”

***************

“Chishiya!”

You jogged to keep up with his fast pace down the hall, making his way back to the pool to see Kuina again. He ignored your yelling, wanting to be far away from you at that moment.

“Chishiya can you please just listen to me!” you said desperately, grabbing his shoulder to turn him to you.

Chishiya suddenly whipped his head around to meet your saddened eyes. “For what Y/N?! Why are you following me?! Why don’t you go back to Niragi?! You seemed awfully comfortable with him when I found you!” he exclaimed. His yelling echoed down the hall, making it seem louder than it was.

You felt tears begin to make their way down your cheeks. You felt helpless in that moment.

You knew that Chishiya liked you more than a friend, but he had always remained such a gentleman to you. He never made you uncomfortable or overstepped your boundaries, so why did you kiss the man that had been stalking you? Who had been saying creepy comments towards you every day? For crying out loud he forced you into an empty room with him. Why did you kiss him when you already had such a lovely and attractive man right in front of you?

You couldn’t help yourself. You grabbed Chishiya by the collar of his hoodie with both hands and pulled him towards you, crashing your lips against his. He didn’t react at first, probably due to shock. But soon, he relaxed and placed his hand on the back of your head and another on your waist.

This felt right. Kissing Chishiya felt more loving and more compassionate than kissing Niragi. Why didn’t you kiss him first? It was honestly a stupid mistake.

You two stayed in the hallway for some time, moving your lips against one another’s passionately. Chishiya was the first to pull away.

He was angry at himself. He shouldn’t have enjoyed that after seeing you with Niragi. But at this point, he was so desperate for the smallest bit of love that he didn’t care.

“Why?” he asked, brushing a piece of hair out of your face gently. You looked into his eyes deeply and smiled sadly at the small specks of tears growing in his eye sockets.

“Because Chishiya, I didn’t realize what I had until I almost lost it,” you said, wiping your thumb underneath this eye to collect his tears before they escaped.

Chishiya kept a neutral face, not knowing how to respond. He was so happy that you liked him back, even if he had to go through a free trial of hell to find out.

He could feel more tears building up in his eyes, so he brought his lips back to yours to distract him from crying. He closed his eyes and let the waterfalls cascade down his face, some mixing with yours that remained on your cheeks.

You both stood in the hallway alone, no one around to interrupt or come between you. Chishiya cherished the moment while it lasted. If having you like this in his arms every day, pressed as close to you as possible both physically and emotionally, then he thought life would be worth living a little longer.

He could deal with a punch to the face from Niragi every now and then if he’s got you to look after him.

1K notes · View notes

barnesbabee · 4 years

Text

[B]reeding Kink || C.S

[ꜱᴇxᴜᴀʟ ᴇɴᴄʏᴄʟᴏᴘᴇᴅɪᴀ - ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ʙ]

Summary: He broke into your house, and now he’s breaking you. (it's not fucking consentual non-con it's just inmate!San istg)

Pairing: Choi San x Reader

Words: my fairy godmother said it was 4311 words

Genre: Smut

⚠ mention of drugs, breeding kink, mentions of blood, mentions of violence, inmate!San ⚠

You woke up with loud banging on your door. It was so sudden, you didn’t know what time it was, what was happening, or where you were. It took you a quick second to scan your surroundings.

It was 2am, or so said the clock on your bedside table, and you were sitting up in your bed, startled and confused about the booming sound echoing through your house.

You got up from the bed and hurriedly wrapped your robe around your body, however, just as you were getting to the living room to look through the peephole, the door burst open. You covered your mouth with your hand to prevent any noise from coming out and hid behind the sofa, praying to whatever wanted to help you that he hadn’t seen you.

You closed your eyes tightly and started breathing heavily as you heard the loud footsteps roam around your house.

It was hard to breathe and you felt as if someone was pressing on your chest.

You opened your eyes slowly and peeked behind the couch. You could see a man… His appearance wasn’t clear as the whole place was dark, the only thing illuminating the room being the moon. He had a broad back and dark hair, that you noticed, and he wore heavy, black boots, that left a trail of dirt wherever he walked.

Who was he? What did he want? Why was he in your apartment?

You hid back and waited until you could no longer hear him.

The silence of his steps felt unsettling… Your chest rose and fell rapidly, and it took all of the courage you had to peek around the couch once more.

However, this time you were met with a man’s face. He wore a wide, Cheshire Cat-like smile on his face as he stared right at you. You could almost feel his warm breath hit your face…

“Hello, doll!”

You opened your mouth to scream but the male was faster. He slapped his hand over your face, preventing you from yelling for help or anything of the sort.

The male approached his lips to your ears.

“I’m gonna need your help doll…”

You took a look at his appearance. He had on a white, stained, and slightly ripped wife-beater, along with a flashy orange jumpsuit. You examined his body carefully. His hair was damp and his inked, very well-built arms were shiny, he had been running. You were inspecting everything as carefully as you possibly could.. when you noticed.

Was that blood!?

There were little spots and splatters of dried, red liquid all over his clothes, which made you widen your eyes. What the fuck had he done!?

He noticed your sudden change of emotions and realized you had seen the state of his clothes.

“Listen, I don’t wanna hurt you. I need you to hide me, I’ll explain everything but you’re not in danger, yet.”

The ‘yet’ at the end of his sentence sparked something in you and you began struggling under his hold. He gripped your arm and forced you to stop shifting.

“Calm. Down. You’re not in danger, but if you call the police on me, if you yell for help, you will be. All you have to do is be a good girl and cooperate, because if anything goes wrong, all you need to know is that there are eight of us, if I get caught it won’t be looking too pretty for you.”

You looked at him, eyes still widened and breathing very heavily.

“You got it?” He asked.

He slowly removed his hand from your mouth and placed it on his thigh. You were full-on crying in fear at that point.

The male said nothing, he just sighed and ran his hand through his sweaty hair. He also didn’t know what to do. He had no idea where the other seven were, he had no idea if they were still alive and he honestly didn’t know what happened next.

“Y-you should take a shower.” You told him, as you finally felt the reek coming from him.

He looked down at himself and nodded. The male stood up and looked at you.

“I can’t trust you though.”

“W-what then? You’re just going to stink forever? Are you going to make me sit in the bathroom while you wash?”

You were just mocking him, but from the way he shrugged you could tell he didn’t mind one bit to have you in the bathroom with him. You refused at first, but you didn’t really have much choice as he dragged you around looking for the bathroom.

You sat on the toilet, facing the wall as you crossed your arms in front of your chest.

“I can’t believe you’re okay with this.” You complained.

“I was in prison, doll, I had hundreds of men looking at my ass every day when I showered, having a girl in a bathroom with me isn’t exactly a nightmare.”

You were both silent. The sound of the water hitting the floor echoed in the room and the water was so hot that the atmosphere around you two became foggy.

“Fuck, this is heaven…”

You would’ve chuckled if you weren’t so scared and uncomfortable.

“You know, we have warm water in there, but there are so many people taking showers at the same time so it just ends up being cold all the time. The showerheads are also really old, so they get clogged all the time and there’s barely any water coming out… You come out looking mustier than when you went in.”

You smiled at that. You could tell he was a people person, he was comfortable enough in this situation to tell life stories and maybe that was the purpose, but you started slowly feeling a little at ease. So much so that you gained the courage to ask the question you were scared of.

“What were you in there for?”

You had to know. You couldn’t have a conversation with him, you couldn’t not feel uncomfortable and uneasy without at least knowing.

There was silence, and the water turned off.

“Murder.”

Your eyes widened from the nth time that night and you felt all blood be drained from your body. The sense of fear and anxiety washed over you once more, and you didn’t know how to react. Should you run? Should you stay? Should you speak, or should you be quiet?

A little childish giggle sounded in the bathroom almost forcing you to look behind. He pulled the shower curtain to the side, and although this man was naked from head to toe right in front of you, your eyes were glued to his face. The giggling was creepy, you hated it.

“I’m joking, I went in for drug abuse and distribution.”

You took a deep, shaky breath and closed your eyes, letting your head fall forward. You shed a couple of tears out of stress and relief.

“You… fucking idiot.” You cursed at him, still feeling a little lightheaded.

He giggled once more and wrapped a towel around his waist, after roaming about the bathroom looking for one.

“Why… Did you have blood all over you then?”

He pointed at his abdomen, where a deep cut that your eyes had completely missed stood.

“It was mine. Mostly… Listen escaping prison isn’t that easy and there’s trap wire and people shooting, if you’re not bleeding it’s because you’re Michael Scofield, and sadly we’re all kind of stupid.”

Although he moved like the wound didn’t hurt, you couldn’t help but worry about it. You pointed at the ripped flesh.

“Can I… Can I fix it for you?”

He cocked his head to the side as he looked at you, silently questioning himself as to why you would want to help him. He shrugged, nevertheless. He wasn’t about to decline help…

“I’d like that.”

He tied the towel tighter around his hips so it wouldn’t fall, and sat down on the toilet you were previously resting on. You reached for the cabinet over the sink and took the medical supplies from it.

“This is going to hurt a bit so just, distract yourself by telling me about you.”

The male scoffed at your words.

“I’ve been to prison, I don’t think I’ll be hurt by- oh f-fuck!”

You giggled at his little curse as you pressed the gauze with hydrogen peroxide against his wounded skin.

He rested his head against the wall and flexed his abdomen.

“O-okay so, my name is San I’ve been in there for 2 years and- fucking Hell go easy on me!”

You giggled and mumbled a soft ‘sorry’ as you listened to his stories. You tried very hard to focus on your job, but your eyes would sometimes wander around his torso and covered thighs.

“I uh, I started selling drugs when I was eighteen, I got thrown out of the orphanage and my little sister came with me, and I wanted to make good money so she could go to university.” he paused for a second, wincing as you switched products “It was fine for a while, I made some friends there which was nice. I never really had friends, cause I kept moving from the orphanage to foster houses back and forth, so I never stayed in one place long enough to make lasting friendships… B-but it didn’t go so well cause I got caught in a swoop and the eight of us went in.”

When he finished the story you had no idea what to say… You felt a little bad about what he had just told you.

“I’m sorry…”

“It’s fine, life isn’t always kind. Plus,” he stopped to grab your chin and bring your gaze up to his “I never said I was a good person, doll. I just said I was tryna get my sister to a better place.”

You stared into his eyes for a second, before snapping back to reality. You stood up and mumbled something along the lines of ‘I’ll get you some clothes’ as you walked off.

Some of your larger garments fit him quite well. A pair of large, black joggers and a yellow hoodie that looked stupidly big on you. He had to go commando however, since you didn’t happen to have a pair of boxers lying around.

You set up the couch for him to sleep in as you weren’t about to give up your bed for an inmate that had just broken in, but he seemed pretty content in the comfort of your couch.

“You sure you don’t need some company in there, doll?”

You chuckled at his bold attempt and pressed your tongue against the inside of your cheek.

“Yes San, I’d rather keep the convict at least one hallway away.” You joked.

Although you felt a little more comfortable around him, knowing that he wasn’t 100% a scumbag, you couldn’t let your guard down.

Your theory was proven when you woke up not much later after you fell asleep with a shadow looking straight at you from the doorway. Not remembering that you had a guest, you yelled.

He immediately came rushing to your side and shut you up with his hand.

“Why did you scream!?” San asked, panicking.

You removed his hand from your face harshly.

“Because a huge shadow man was standing in my doorway like a lunatic! What are you doing!?”

“It’s… It’s 7am I’m hungry.”

You shot daggers at him through your sleepy, hooded eyes.

“Do you not sleep?”

“Not really… We have a lot of sleep deprivation in there.”

Somehow he had this habit of making you do things by making you feel bad. And this was no exception.

You groaned and dragged yourself off of the bed, feeling kind of embarrassed about how terrible you looked compared to him. Although his hair was messy, it still made him look good, as it further defined his jawline.

You didn’t know what he wanted to eat, so you just pointed at your cabinets and began teaching him what was inside of each of them.

As you did all of this, you realized how often he’d brush his dark locks back, in order to get them out of his face. You looked at your wrist and surely enough there was a spare hair tie on it. You offered it to San, who gladly accepted the item and tied his hair in a small ponytail.

You started walking back to your bedroom, to resume your interrupted sleep, but a pertinent question popped in your mind, and sleep was no longer your biggest preoccupation.

You turned around and walked back to the kitchen, to find San shoving his hand down the cereal box and eating it dry.

“San… What’s your plan here? I mean, in the long run. You can’t just crash in my sofa forever.”

The male in question looked at you, a suggestive gaze playing in his eyes.

“I can always crash on your bed.” He wiggled his eyebrows at you as he said this.

“I’m serious, San. This can be really problematic for me! Do you realize the trouble this could put me in? If someone finds out you’re here I’ll have so many legal complications! I’m on the fourth floor, why did you even choose my apartment!?”

San went quiet for a second and looked at the floor.

“You’re the 69th apartment…” He replied quietly.

You rolled your eyes and turned around, stressed out about his response, while rubbing your temples.

Before you could get very far, however, the man grabbed your wrist and made you turn around.

“You’re right, I’m sorry… We agreed to meet up in an abandoned building a couple blocks down from where we lived. We needed to lay low for at least a couple of hours. I got lucky I managed to lose the coppers, but I don’t know about them…”

He had sat down by the dining table and buried his head in his hands. For some reason,

you felt as if you should comfort him, so you approached the male softly and pet his head slowly.

“I can try to help with the smaller things!”

But little did you know that that statement would soon come back to bite you in the ass, when you came home later in the day, after your very tiring night shift, and found eight very big men sitting around your living room, just chatting it up as if it was their own house.

Ignoring the possibly dangerous men sprawled on your floor and couch, you closed the door and walked towards San.

“What… The fuck.” You said through gritted teeth, trying to remain calm.

“Well, you said you could help with the smaller things, and that side of the town was flooding with cops looking for us, so I figured we could come here to lay low!” He said, gesturing to his friends.

You closed your eyes and inhaled deeply.

“When I said small things I meant maybe food or warm water to shower with. I didn’t mean I’d be the shelter for eight hooligans!”

“What did you just call us?” One of them calmly asked.

You looked behind San to face the bleached haired male, who had a mixture of angry and offended on his face. It suddenly hit you that all of these escapee inmates were in your house, staring at you as you insulted them, and nervous tears started brimming in your eyes.

“I-I’m sorry Sir, but you are sitting on my rug and you came from jail I think I’m entitled to be upset right now.” You told him, holding up your index finger.

“Listen I’m sorry but overstaying my welcome-”

“Oh, you think you’re overstaying!?”

Already sick of your snappy attitude, San gripped your arm and pushed you back against the wall, causing you to wince and drop your keys. His face was millimeters away from yours, so close you could feel his breath on you.

“Listen doll, I don’t think anybody wants eight wanted criminals in their living room but you don’t have a choice, okay!? Neither of us would be here if we had a better choice but we fucking don’t, so why don’t you make this easier for all of us and cooperate?”

You had no choice but to nod, as you swallowed nervously. San let go of you and sighed, disappointed that he had to resource to violence.

There was an awkward silence, that the male you had known the longest felt the obligation to fill.

“So, uhm, these are my friends… “ He said and began introducing them one by one.

Some of the men remained expressionless, only giving you a nod as a greeting, while a couple smiled politely and the rest chimed a small ‘hello’.

“Did you… All go in for the same thing?”

“Friendship goals, right?” The male you now knew to be named Mingi said, stealing a smile out of you.

There was the heavy silence again… And you searched deep in your head for what could solve the awkwardness.

“Are you guys hungry? I don’t have enough food here but I could go out and buy some chicken. I don’t think it’s safe to have people deliver.”

They all agreed and so you went on your way, to buy food for all the unwanted guests. It was probably a bad idea to go out on your own and carry all this chicken and alcohol (that you bought hoping that the eight men would become bubblier and less threatening after consuming it) but you still thought that was a better scenario than being caught in public with a wanted criminal. So after about forty-five minutes of struggling, you managed to get into the house with three huge bags: two for the chicken and one for the drinks.

Their eyes all lit up once you stepped foot inside of the house and suddenly they resembled little kids. The men instantly attacked the food, proceeding to hurriedly unwrap the chicken.

“Damn Y/N, were you in jail too?” San asked when he saw you hungrily devour the food. It seemed like you too hadn’t eaten anything that good in years.

You quickly flipped him off and continued eating.

Your speculations were correct, and as the empty alcohol bottles started piling up, the room started echoing with happy chatter and laughter.

All of the stress and panic about the situation started washing off from them as the hours passed by and you had to admit, hadn’t they been wanted criminals you wouldn’t have minded being a part of their odd friend group.

“H-hey Y/N, you should sit here, it’s more comfortable.” San joked with a sly smirk, as he patted his lap.

“Keep trying, lover boy.” You told him as you rolled your eyes.

San then placed his hands around your waist and pulled you to sit on his lap, keeping a slight grip on your body, soft enough for you to leave if you were uncomfortable.

“Was this a good enough try, doll?” He whispered in your ear.

You said nothing, and your silence made him chuckle as he pulled you back, until your back hit his chest. Somehow he was right. It did feel more comfortable… And maybe it was the alcohol, or the fact that San was actually insanely hot, but all of the tension left in your body evaporated, and you felt yourself melt into his touch.

All of the sounds started fading into the background and you didn’t even acknowledge the rest of the boys, as all you could feel was the way San was drawing shapes on your thighs with his long fingers, and how you wanted them a little farther up your body. You pressed your thighs against each other, and this action didn’t go unnoticed by San, who squeezed them tighter in his hold and groaned in your ear.

You could feel a hard-on beginning to form in San’s pants, as it began poking your ass. You shifted in his lap, causing his boner to harden by the second. He gripped his waist tighter and pressed you down on his growing problem.

“I really want you, doll, I think you want me too…” He whispered in your ear.

“You’re imagining things San.”

He rolled his hips up and held you in place, so you could feel every curve of his fully hardened member press against you. Of course he noticed the way you inhaled shakily and giggled. Giggled.

San was indeed an intriguing person…

He kissed a couple of spots on your neck, and bit down on an area he found softer, managing to steal a small whimper out of you.

A couple of heads turned towards you and they smirked, acknowledging what was happening, but not wanting to bother or steal the moment away. They turned their attention back to the other men, leaving you two isolated once more.

“Please, let me fuck you, doll… I wanna feel how well you clench around me. Will you let me do that?”

Your mind was clouded by pleasure and curiosity, and so you stood up and grabbed his wrist, pulling him towards your bedroom, not even bothering to give him a verbal response.

The second the male heard the door click, he pushed you against it with his body and smashed his lips against yours. His hands were obsessed with your hips and thighs, constantly squeezing them as you grinded against his crotch.

He tapped the back of your legs and you wrapped them around him. San carried you to the bed as if you were made of feathers, and even though his tongue was harsh against yours, the way he let you down on the bed was soft.

The two of you only pulled away when the confinement of your clothes started becoming unbearable. You peeled the work clothes (that you had never changed from) hastily from your body. San undressed just as quickly, and he couldn’t believe his view. After all that time being incarcerated he managed to have someone so good looking so willing to fuck him… He smirked and slapped your thighs, proceeding to grab them as he kissed your jaw, then your neck, then your chest, then your stomach, only stopping when his lips were dangerously close to a place you’d be wishing for him to touch you. He stopped and looked up at you. God, he wished he could take a picture of you right now… All jittery and messy, needy and aching for his touch.

"F-Fuck San, please!“ You begged, finally, when the teasing became too much.

"Anythin’ for you, doll."

He teased your entrance with his tongue before entering two fingers, as to prepare you for what was to come. San squeezed and bit your thighs as his fingers entered you in a high speed.

"Oh my G-God, San- I want you in me."

He groaned at your neediness, and shoved the fingers that had previously been in you past your lips.

You maintained eye contact as you sucked slowly on his digits.

San lined up his cock with your entrance and pushed into you slowly, causing you to wince slightly and bite his fingers.

The male immediately removed his hand and moved both his hands to rest on your waist.

"Y-you okay, doll?” He asked, afraid he’d hurt you.

"Yes- yes, move…"

San bottomed out inside you with a loud groan. He didn’t move for a second, trying to take in how tight you were and how good he felt. And even though he tried to hold back by starting to thrust into you slowly, he soon lost control. His hips snapped against yours uncontrollably fast and neither of you cared if the moans and whimpers could be heard in the next room.

"S-shit, look at you doll, taking my cock like a good girl-“

You gripped his arms, digging your nails into his skin, loving the way he talked to you.

Something about seeing all of those artworks in san’s body made you feel more attracted to the male.

"You feel so good inside me Sannie.”

The pet name and the little praise caused his cock to twitch inside of you, and you could tell he was almost there, by the sloppiness of his thrusts.

You wanted to see what he looked like in pure lust, you wanted to do the dirtiest things with this man, his sinful figure bigging out someone you didn’t even know you had in you.

"I-I need to cum doll, where do you want me to-“

"Inside me! Please, please cum inside me San!” You begged as you clung onto him for dear life.

His cock twitched once more, and he looked at you with a mix of surprise and lust in his eyes.

"Y/N are you sure cause-“

"Fucking breed me, San! I want your cum dripping out of me, please!"

The intensity of his thrusts increased as did the grip he had on you.

"You want me to breed you? Hm? Make you mine forever? Turn you into a bad girl for me? Y-you’re so dirty…”

"Y-yes! God yes!“

"Oh f-fuck!” Was the last thing he managed to yell as he buried his member deep inside of you, shooting white spurts of cum that covered your walls.

It was the way his body trembled and the way his mouth fell open with small whimpers that caused you to climax right after him.

His sweaty body collapsed on top of yours as he slowly pulled out, and you could feel the cum drip out of your hole.

For a couple of seconds all that could be heard was the heavy panting, until San lifted his head and looked at you.

"Fuck, I guess you belong to me now…“

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lxngbottom · 3 years

Text

Mistakes That Last Forever. | N.L. (Part 2)

in which neville tries to get his life back.

warnings: mentions of cheating, swearing (lmk if there are more!)

im crying over this fic PLS

(PART 1)

—

the shower felt wonderful as it collided with your skin. the stress that had been building up from the past week due to seeing neville, and work, was seemingly all being washed away. you could hear neville jr in the living room, muttering small scenarios as he used his imagination to play with his toys.

but, the small peace that your house held was soon disturbed by your house phone ringing. you sighed, hoping that it wasn’t your boss demanding at you turn in that article draft you had promised him.

“mummy! the phone is ringing!” your son called out, and you could hear that he had ran to the bathroom door in order to inform you.

“um—i know!” you replied, “can you be a big boy and answer it for me? just like we talked about?! ask to take a message, okay?”

“okay!”

you heard his hurried footsteps exit the hallway, and you continued your now, limited shower as quickly as you could.

neville jr reached up and picked up the phone, putting it to his ear in excitement. this was the first time you let him use the adult phone, and he couldn’t be more thrilled,

“uh... hello? longbottom—well... y/l/n residence!”

he made an odd face as he realized he has already messed up what you told him to say if someone had ever called.

the person on the other line smiled to himself, hearing that small, fragile voice. he sounded just like he used to when he was younger.

“hi... is your mum there?” neville asked awkwardly, shifting awkwardly in his seat as the realization that he was talking to his son was hitting him.

neville jr crooked his lips as he looked down the hall, “um... she’s in the shower...” he began to try and remember what you had told him to say, “uh—um... merlin... oh!” he finally remembered. “can i take a message for you?”

the boy had such a sweet voice. he was filled with such innocence. the shame of missing out on his son growing up had already hit neville, and he had been in a big slum for the last week due to that.

“yes... can you tell her that neville called? it’s important that she knows...”

neville jr then furrowed his eyebrows, “hey! that’s my name!” he snapped, “i didn’t call my own house!”

neville on the other line chuckled at the boy’s obliviousness, “no! that’s my name, too, lad. i’m—uh... your—“

just as he was about to tell his son the truth, you came stomping out of the bathroom, towel wrapped around your body, and your hair as well. you ran over to your son, who was still holding the phone.

“who is it?” you asked, already grabbing the phone from his grasp,

“uh... neville? he has the same name as i do, mum!”

your heart dropped to the pit of your stomach, and you tried to play it off by sending your son a small smile.

“that’s... nice, sweetheart. but... go play for a few minutes, okay?”

the boy nodded his head, and went right back to the center of the living room, and continued to play with his cars. you glanced over at him, putting the phone up to your ear, hands shaky from anxiety.

“hello?” you started, looking down awkwardly at the numbers on the phone.

“oh... hey, y/n.”

yep. it was neville.

“how did you get my number, longbottom?” you asked in a low whisper, glancing over at your son once more,

neville let out an awkward chuckle, “well... it’s not that hard to get into contact with the journalist of the daily prophet, y/n.” he teased slightly, maybe trying to lighten the mood, “i just need to talk to you.”

you sighed, gritting your teeth slightly, “about what, neville?”

“about... seeing him. seeing both of you. ever since i saw you both last week... i haven’t been sleeping, or eating... i want to make things right. i deserve that, y/n. i need to see my son...”

you knew it was coming, but, you had hoped it would at least be a few more years.

“neville—“

“y/n, i can’t keep doing this. i can’t keep walking throughout my life miserable. i know i’ve done awful things to you, and i know there is nothing in this world that i could possibly ever do to make it up to you. but, please... that’s my son. maybe this is my opportunity to do the right thing. an opportunity to get my life back...”

you huffed at his words, “you didn’t even know he existed until a week ago!”

“yeah, because you never told me! you know for a fact that if you would’ve told me the truth, that i would’ve been there for everything! there’s a lot i have to owe up to, but don’t forget that you lied to me! you kept me away from my son for his whole life because you were hurt over a mistake!”

“a mistake that you made, asshole!” you clapped back through teary eyes, “i figured... hey! maybe if neville wants to go back to being an immature teenager and cheat on me, then how in world would he ever be a good father?! i wasn’t even sure that you would even be committed to him, neville! because, you sure weren’t committed to me!”

the tension that radiated through the static on the phone was terrifying. the only thing that could be heard was your small sniffles, and neville’s agitated sighs on the other end. you were so hurt. you had always been so hurt due to what had happened.

“y/n...” neville sighed, “please. just let me make this right. let me make it up to you... and to him. please... i’ll do anything.”

you thought for a moment, considering all of the positives and the negatives of this whole situation. you knew he was right, he did deserve to see his son. but, you didn’t know if that would be the right thing for your son himself.

“fine...” you breathed, “you can come and see him. i’ll send you an owl, soon...”

neville had never felt more relieved.

“thank you. thank you, y/n. i promise i’ll—“

but, you cut him off by slamming the phone back onto the hook. your face fell into the palm of your hand as you let out a small sob, overwhelmed by the sudden old feelings that were rushing back into your veins.

“mummy...”

you didn’t look at him. you couldn’t look at him.

“you’re crying, mum. what’s wrong?” he asked, slowly walking over to you, “was it that man on the phone?”

you finally looked down at him, seeing the worried look etched across his round, chubby face. you crouched down to meet his height, reaching your hand up to caress his face gently. you had always done that, because it was something that you always did to neville when he was worried or sad.

“mummy’s alright, baby... she’s just stressed out. but... i need to talk to you about something, alright?”

that’s when his face became even more worried, “as i in trouble?”

you chuckled through your tears at your son’s overthinking, “no, no, of course not. it’s just... there’s something i haven’t told you...”

“what is it, mum?”

you sighed, finally ready to have the talk.

—

that morning had started off chaotic. it was a mix of you trying to get ready, neville rummaging through his closet in order to find the perfect outfit, as he was a big boy now, and he wanted to get ready all by himself.

“neville longbottom! have you brushed your teeth?!” you yelled from the living room, trying to pick up the small mess of toys that was spread throughout the floor.

neville in his room widened his eyes, realizing that he indeed had not brushed his teeth.

“i’m going to take that as a no!” you yelled, referring to the silence, “go and do it, please! he’ll be here at any minute!”

neville jr was probably just as nervous as you were, as he had subconsciously had always questioned where his father had been, but never asked. but ever since that long conversation the two of you had, he was finally ready to meet him. you on the other hand, felt as if you could throw up at any given moment.

you were only in your bra and underwear as you cleaned, trying your best not to mess up your applied makeup. you ran to your room after you were done, and started going through your closet. you and neville jr would always wake up late, as for some reason, you two loved getting your beauty sleep. the both of you were used to rushing through your shared home, getting ready while doing ten other things at the same time. time management was definitely something you needed to teach him, and maybe even teach yourself.

“mum! i can’t find my socks!” you heard your son call out, his voice shaky.

“um—check in your top drawer, sweetie! there should be a clean pair in there!” you yelled back, slipping on a sun dress and zipping it up in the back. you looked in the mirror, and noticed that you hadn’t even done your hair. it was still wet from the shower you had taken,

“fuck!” you groaned, running to your personal bathroom and grabbing your hairbrush.

“mum! that’s a bad word!”

“i’m sorry! i’m just really stressed out! are you almost ready?”

there was silence for a moment before he responded, “um... yeah?”

he wasn’t ready, of course.

you felt as if you could crack at any moment, but you were trying your best to hold back the tears. maybe this would’ve been a lot easier if you two had actually woken up when you were supposed to.

that’s when the doorbell rang, and your heart seemed to stop beating for a moment. you sighed, mentally preparing yourself as you grabbed your flats from your closet, and walked through the house to the front door.

when you arrived, you shakily unlocked it and opened the door.

that’s when you saw him. he held a small bouquet of flowers in one hand, and a small gift box in the other. he smiled at you, taking in how absolutely ravishing you looked.

“um—come in...” you told him, opening the door. he stepped in, and began to follow you through the house, leading to your living room. “just—ignore the mess, please! we woke up late, and i didn’t have time to clean the kitchen and—“

“hey, hey, hey...” he interrupted you, setting the items down on the couch. “it’s fine, y/n. i understand... no need to explain.”

you looked over at him, and for a moment, you began to get lost in his gentle eyes. neville had always been so patient with you. he never judged you, nor ever would judge you. he knew you from the inside out, and he could tell how stressed out you were in that moment.

“mummy!” you heard, and the two of you whipped your head around to see a struggling smaller neville, trying to get his sweater on over his jumper. you giggled as his head was getting stuck in the hole, “it won’t go on!” he huffed aggressively, his arms flailing around.

you walked over to him, and pulled the sweater vest down over his head easily. he looked at you for a moment, an appreciative smile on his face. but then, he caught a glance at the smiling man that stood just ways away from you. he hid behind your leg, still nervous out his mind.

“neville...” you muttered, trying to get him to not be so shy, “come on...”

he shook his head, now burying his face in the material of your dress.

you looked over at neville, who had a sad look on his face.

“he’s shy... but... he’ll come around.” you reassured the man.

of course he was shy. he was neville longbottom’s son for merlin’s sake.

neville wearily made his way over to the both of you, the gift box now in his hand. he crouched down by your knee, letting your cherry blossom lotion take over his senses.

“this—it’s for you...” he offered, holding the gift box up to the small boy. neville jr peeked his head around your leg, eyeing the color wrapped box. “go on... it’s yours...”

neville jr finally gave in, his childish mind not being to help itself as he reached out, and grabbed the box from his father’s hand. he slowly showed himself, ripping the wrapping up.

he squealed when he finally got it open.

“mum, look!” he held the toy up in his hand, “look how cool!”

you smiled down at your lovely son, “i see it, honey. what do you say?”

neville jr looked up at his dad, batting his eyelashes a few times.

“thank you...”

neville sent him a sweet smile,

“no problem...”

—

the day had been simple. you, neville, and neville jr did nothing but relax, play with toys, talk about your old days at hogwarts, ordered pizza for lunch, and you even made a nice dinner by the time the night had came along. it brought you a feeling of serenity, as this had always been your dream for you and neville.

“can i have a goodnight kiss?” you asked neville jr as you tucked him in. he nodded his head, and pecked your cheek, then settled back into his blanket.

“goodnight, mum...” he told you sweetly,

neville watched as you tucked your son in, glancing around the boy’s room every now and then. he had noticed how much of an amazing mother you were the whole day, but, he would’ve never expected less.

neville jr looked over at the tall man, hiding his face shyly.

“goodnight, daddy...”

the nickname made you look over at neville, who seemed to be in some sort of state of shock. but, he sent the boy a small smile.

“goodnight, nev. get some rest...”

you stood up from your son’s bed, and slowly made your way towards the door.

“will you still be here tomorrow when i wake up?”

the question made you and neville’s head turn, and you were still trying your best to hold it together.

neville wiped his nose awkwardly, “not sure about that one, lad. but, i’ll definitely see you in a couple of days. maybe... you can come to my house and meet my pets, huh? that sound good?”

the question seemed to be aimed towards your son, but just by looking at neville, he seemed to be asking the both of you.

“yeah... that sounds good...” neville jr replied, offering the both of you a weak yawn. he rubbed his eyes, and cuddled into his stuffed toad.

you smiled as you turned the light off, and neville stepped out of the room.

“goodnight, darling. i’ll see you in the morning.”

and with that, you closed his door softly, and began to walk back to the living room.

neville watched as you started to clean up, even at one point offering to help you.

“it’s fine...” you told him as he went to pick up a toy, “i don’t need your help...”

you hadn’t noticed it, but neville definitely had. you were now crying, tears streaming down your face as you continued to pick toys up, and set them into the box that sat beside you. the emotions from today were now taking an affect on you, and as much as you tried to ignore them, your body needed some sort of release.

“y/n...” neville muttered, and you looked over at him, breaking his heart when he saw your eyeliner smudging, “what’s wrong?”

you sighed as you picked the box up, and put it back in its place over the by the couch.

“nothing... just exhausted. i have to get something into my boss for work, and i just—“

“don’t lie to me.”

you furrowed your eyebrows at him, “i’m not—“

“yes, you are. i can tell.” he interjected, walking closer to you. “you can tell me... please tell me.”

you pondered for a moment, wondering if you should actually let the words slip your lips.

“it’s just—“ you began, trying to collect your thoughts. neville gazed at you intently, “it’s just hard seeing you. and... seeing you with him is even worse.”

“why?”

you bit down on your bottom lip, something you had always done when you were trying to hold back tears, “because... i suppose i just thought that—maybe... that would’ve been us. all these years... you would’ve done all the stuff you did with him today everyday. i had always dreamt of us having a family together... but... i just wasn’t good enough for you.”

neville’s breath hitched at your words. he felt his stomach churn with guilt, and sadness as well.

“y/n... you were more than good enough for me. i was just—a fucking git. i was so... stupid for what i did. and, i probably won’t ever be able to make it up to you...”

you chuckled nervously, “well... at least there’s a chance to make it up to him.”

he stepped even closer to you, only a small gap between your nervous bodies. he slowly reached his hand up, and wiped away the single tear that was treading down your cheek. he ran that same hand through your hair, that familiar feeling settling in, ever so present between you both.

“yeah... but something tells me that you want me to make it up to you, as well, y/n...”

his touch was so gracious. it felt so familiar, and you couldn’t help but to fall into it. his thumb caressed your skin, feeling all of the familiar bumps and roughness. he felt as if he collapse, as he was only just now realizing that he was finally touching you again.

“it doesn’t matter what i want, neville. that hasn’t mattered since i had our son. all that matters is him now.”

neville took a beat of silence before responding, his eyes trailing to your lips.

“it does matter.”

that’s when he planted his soft lips upon yours, relishing in the serenity of you.

it was a kiss that was long overdue. a kiss that said so much but nothing all at the same time. oh, how he missed you. and oh... how you missed him so much more.

when you two finally pulled away, his palm still rested against your cheek, and he admired you.

“i’m sorry for everything. but what i said was true... i want my life back. and y/n... you and neville are my life.”

#harry potter #harry potter imagine #harry potter imagines #harry potter smut #neville longbottom #neville longbottom imagine #neville longbottom imagines #neville longbottom smut #neville x reader #neville x y/n #neville longbottom x reader #neville longbottom x y/n

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littlemisslipbalm · 3 years

Text

I live in the neighbourhood Part 2

Part 2 is hereeeeee YAY! There will be a part 3 eventually :) I hope you enjoy and as well lmk you loved it with reblogs and messages, they truly make my day and y’know do it for other writers too, trust me we all love it. this fucking gif still gets me,,, but anyway there is so much i want to talk about in this part its killing me so plssss message me about it aghghghggh idk what else to say

um this part is filled with: yn not knowing cars, harry being a dork, almost kisses and kisses , but daddy i love him, the crown, gardening, and so much more mwah

Read Part 1

Word Count: 10.8k | Warnings: minor anxiety attack, swearing?, drinking, think that’s it (some more taylor swift)

“You want me to what?!” She feels herself all but scream.

He sighs in exasperation and ruffles his freshly cut curls. He can’t help the smile that grows shortly after his sigh. Y/N’s reaction on the other end of the line has sent him into a fit of giggles that he has to suppress quickly when she sends a warning ‘Harry’.

“It’s simple, love,” He twists to lay on his stomach. “I left you the spare to my place. Just go in, find my car keys and then drive to the airport and snap me up!”

She sighs now over the phone as she contemplates whether she could truly go into Harry’s home and then drive his surely expensive car to the airport and get him. It was something a friend would do for another friend, especially one who was a neighbour and especially a neighbour who had nothing better to do on a Friday night.

“Alright,” she says finally, “I’ll be there on Friday, text me the flight number.”

She grins when she hears a little “woo” from Harry. Even if he’s smiling half a world away it still made her happy to know it was because of her.

They had mostly texted each other randomly over the past three weeks while Harry had been away in California. She told him about her job, which he insisted was endlessly interesting and she countered that he found it interesting because it was new to him and eventually the grandeur would wear off. She loved her job, of course, it was for a public relations company that dealt with various London based companies and she was on multiple accounts with various clients ranging from tech companies to music artists. But she didn’t think it was as interesting as Harry made it out to be.

Harry told her about the filming of the movie and about everyone on set. He told her how he bought everyone on the crew his new ‘Treat People With Kindness’ sweatshirts and joked how he’d have to get her one as well to match her other one. She noted that one of Harry’s love languages was very obviously gift giving. He was so generous and she really admired that from him considering how successful he was. Her father was an accountant so she knew how rich people could be about their money sometimes, hiding it away in different entities just so their money can make money instead of spending it on things that matter.

He said everyone was nice and amazing overall, he gushed about people’s performances, but he’d always end with how much he missed London. He liked LA, he would assure her, but then he’d say how it wasn’t home-y at all. London was home to him. She would smile whenever he said that because she felt that way too, even though she wasn’t originally from the city, it just felt like home to her.

One night, he even confided in her his loneliness while on set. He wondered that maybe it was because he had no real roots in LA, nothing to go home to - no home to go to. She tried to reassure him that he wasn’t alone and all he had to do was ask and any person from the movie would love to spend time with him. He nodded along to her words, but they both knew he was being overly kind when he said everyone was nice. Not everyone in Hollywood was nice and certainly not everyone in Hollywood had substance. He searched for a month and seldom found time where he was truly relaxed with others and enjoying himself. More than ever he was excited to return home to London to say the least.

“Harry!”

She jumped out of her seat and into his arms, her cheek brushing his as she leaned in. He stood just on the sidewalk by his car that she had gingerly driven into the city and to the airport at 9pm on a Friday night in November.

The car was a dark blue vintage convertible, Mercedes-Benz, she was pretty sure but she really was completely clueless when it came to cars. Harry had taken her call right before his flight took off and walked her through finding the car. He had two garages and one garage had two cars and the other had only one. She had gone on her own and found the first garage with the two cars and seen a lime green tiny little vintage convertible and a cherry red vintage non-convertible and became distraught that there was no navy car. When Harry picked up the phone he had been greeted with some yelling about how he must be colorblind if he thought one of these cars was navy and he had laughed heartily before explaining that there was another garage. She had huffed and traipsed through his house until she came upon the other garage. When she saw the blue car she was equally annoyed and elated. “Thank fucking god,” she muttered over the line and Harry had laughed, but found himself cut off when the line went dead.

He smiled and groaned slightly at her tight embrace. He was happy to be back in England after a month away and he was happy to have her in his arms even if he didn’t know whether he should admit that.

“It’s good to see you,” he musters and he feels her smile into his neck. The only fabric between her face and him being his thin waffle knit long sleeve. He could feel her breath softly against him. He pets at the back of her hair, “Thank you for coming to get me, I know it might have been a bit much to ask.”

“Don’t mention it,” she pulls back from his embrace and smiles happily up at him, “What are friends for?”

She brushes her hands at his shoulders and then moves to start putting his luggage in his car. He had two suitcases and a backpack with him, but he had told her he had more stuff sent over that would just be sent simply to his home. She had texted back a shocked face emoji when he said that, unaware that he traveled with that much stuff.

“Right,” Harry affirms, twitching into action at the word ‘friends’. He felt like they had gotten so close over the last month even though they had only talked over the phone for that time. Seeing her in person now felt like she had been his friend for years.

Once in the car, Y/N settles back in the driver’s seat, not wanting Harry to have to drive after the horrible flight from California to London. A direct flight was just about as bad as layovers in Ohio or Utah. She wasn’t sure what it was like in First Class, but she still knew it was rough being on an aircraft for 10 plus hours.

Harry closes his eyes beside her after a moment. He had watched her settle in the car with his head against the headrest, his eyes drooping as they regarded her movements. She was so sweet to him and he nodded when she asked if he wanted his seat warmer on.

“You’re too good to me, pet,” he whispers, head lulling once again.

She glances at him swiftly as she pulls out of the loading area. He smiled contentedly before drifting off to sleep.

She turned the music low and silently drove them back to Sherwood Avenue. When she pulled the car into Harry’s garage, she sat there for a few moments as Harry softly breathed beside her. She had hoped he’d wake up upon their arrival so she wouldn’t have to wake him, but alas he was sound asleep.

She watched him, he was so quiet in this moment. So unlike how he normally was with her, talking about everything and nothing almost constantly. She liked that side of him. But she had to admit something about him this peaceful was just as entrancing.

The flutter of his eyelids brought her out of her reverie and she was grateful for the dim lighting in the garage because when Harry’s eyes focused on her she was blushing.

He quirks a brow and his smirk begins to settle back on his lips. “Home,” he raspily mumbles and begins to shift in his sea.

She nods and smiles softly, shaking off all the thoughts had been going through her mind.

“We’re back,” she affirms. “Let’s get you inside, sleepy boy.”

Harry shakes off his slumber with a rub at his right eye and a run through his hair. He climbs out of the car. She throws him the keys at his silent instruction of an extended hand and an eyebrow raise. She knows she read him correctly when he smiles sweetly and travels to the boot of his car to begin unloading the suitcases he was in charge of.

She follows him and rounds the end of the car, preparing to take some of his luggage.

“You don’t need to carry anything, it’s fine, dove.”

His voice is extra gravelly still and she would’ve complained about the new nicknames if he hadn’t sounded so hot. She didn’t think she had any feelings for Harry other than friendship, she was almost sure of it. Sure he was attractive, but ever since she actually got to know him she hadn’t thought of him in a way that could be considered more than friendship. He made her blush, but he was just inherently smooth. It wasn’t because he was specifically flirting with her.

Except right now, the whole reuniting of it all paired with his voice and his sleepy eyes that she imagined likely looked similar to his bedroom eyes. She was having a hard time seeing that line of friendship.

“No!” She protested, tugging the backpack he was attempting to carry along with the two suitcases from him.

He sighs and sets down one of the cases, “Y/N, you’ve already been too good to me by picking me up. I’m not making you do any more physical labor with any of my heavy shit.”

“It can’t be that heavy,” she pulls the backpack on and she resists the slight step back her body wants to take from the weight of the backpack.

“Give it back,” he says, sounding concerned for her.

“It’s fine, I’ve got it, Har,” she smiles and gives a little twirl in his large garage, the backpack making her look a bit smaller.

He twists his lips trying to ward off a smile. He wasn’t annoyed, moreso he was delighted by her antics. He wanted to scoop her up in his arms and kiss her.

“Oh you got it? Do you?” His amusement betrays his British accent, making him sound like he did at 19. He places the other case on the ground and walks quickly to stand right in front of her.

She squeals as he gets so close, his nose just about brushes hers. He’s smiling sinisterly as he takes hold of the straps of the backpack and tries to tug them off of her. Yet, she holds on tight to the front of them, laughing happily at their silliness and causing her nose to brush against his.

Their eyes are strong on each other, watching their every move. And they settle a little, laughter dying out, breathing evening out. Her hands are still strong on the front straps of the backpack, while Harry’s are strong on the top of her shoulders, wrapped around the backpack’s straps as well.

He licks his lips, feeling especially interested in seeing how hers finally taste. Right as he is about to lean in, brush his lips against hers, she pulls from his grasp, swinging away from him and dashing to the door that leads to the rest of his house.

“C’mon, it’s freezing out here!” She twists the nob of the door and beckons him.

He huffs, shaking himself out of the daydream he had almost made reality. He wanted to kick himself, he felt like a kid. He needed to get a grip.

“I’m right behind ya’,” he called, nodding his head to tell her to go before him.

Her smile sears in his mind like the shine on a brand new coin as she flicks on the light in the entryway. The light comes flooding in the doorway and around her. For that quick moment only she is illuminated in his eyes. She shines for him and he wonders if it’s possible to drown in light.

Next Thursday

“Crown came out on Sunday!” Harry said as he opened the door, knowing it was Y/N who had knocked.

“Had no clue from the ominous text you sent, ‘come over, i promise popcorn *crown emoji*’,” she laughs and enters the house and holds out a bag of chocolate chips.

“I already have it queued up and popcorn’s popping!” He says happily and takes the chocolate chips to put in little dishes.

They walk into the kitchen and she’s still in awe of his home. It was clean and sleek but with all the hominess still easily found if you looked a little closer. Tea cloths hanging over the ovens’ handles that had interlocking G’s - a facet of Gucci she could only assume. Various paintings of different scenes, one a Japanese store front and another a Blue Jay perched easily on a thin branch.

There were unique painted tiles that he must use for hot plates and a single fancy floral mug tucked next to an espresso machine and just little things that she was keen on exploring at some point, but Harry caught her attention.

“Adult slushie?” He inquires with an arched brow.

“Does the slushie perform exotic dances?” She asks jokingly.

Harry rolls his eyes and chuckles, “Sometimes those that drink it do.”

She reddens at his implication. He then looks at her seriously and she regards him with utter delight. Her eyes twinkle as he moves about his home with ease.

“If you make it,” she confirms, in awe that he would make cocktails on this random occasion.

He smiles at her and begins his final tasks, checking to make sure the popcorn doesn’t burn and grabs the ingredients he needs to make the drink he was thinking of.

She stands beside him, eyes constantly wondering between his moving physique and his home.

“Did you know I know Emma?” Harry asks, looking up from the blender. She notices how his neck muscles twist and strain as he gazes at her. He was wearing a white t-shirt with ‘But Daddy I Love Him’ in a red vintage font and a black cardigan with different colorful objects on it, mostly flowers, it said ‘Spaceboy’ on the back and she had smiled when she saw it when he led her to the kitchen.

She hums, her gaze focused on him. His green eyes flicker across her face and down her body, simply taking into account her outfit. Pink sweatpants and a long sleeve with a drawing of a cute little clown holding two guns up at the air. While it might have sounded like a weird thing to have printed on a shirt, he found it fun, he was always appreciative of different clothing. Of course she had a gun-slinging clown shirt that she managed to make sweet, he thought.

“Fascinating connections of the rich and famous,” she muses.

“Yeah, well, Susan - Harry Lambert,” he corrects his friend’s nickname, catching himself, “he styles us both so we’ve met a few times. She’s really lovely.”

“That’s pretty epic,” she says and wanders closer to Harry, wanting a better look at his progress on the drinks.

Her hand rests on the countertop next to the two glasses he intends to place the ‘slushies’ into. The liquor he used just said “Blue” and she wondered what blue would taste like as he pours the glasses now. The consistency of them being relatively slushie like, she was impressed.

Her smile gives it away and Harry eyes her, “What’re you smiling at?”

“I’m admiring your bartending skills,” she meets his eyes and she realizes how rather close they’ve gotten as he leans slightly over her and the countertop.

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” he says playfully, “I take my mixology very seriously so I don’t want any praise until you’ve actually tried it.”

He holds the glass up to her and instead of grabbing it from him, she simply guides it to her lips. Her hand lightly grasping at the soft fabric of his cardigan. She parts her lips and takes a small sip, maintaining eye contact with Harry.

When the icey liquid passes her lips, her eyes flutter shut at the sweetness of the drink, it was like candy but with a light kick at the end from the alcohol. She loved it and when she opened her eyes again she took the drink from Harry’s strong hand and took another sip.

“This is dangerously good,” she finally says and Harry grins.

“Fantastic! Now we’re ready to start the show,” and he leads them into his living room that is just as big or bigger than his kitchen. A large screen television and a turquoise velvet couch are the main attractions of the room, at least what Y/N is focused on. There’s more art and posters up in this room, a lovely round coffee table and gorgeous vintage rug.

“Wait, Susan?” she circles back to Harry’s earlier comment about Emma Corin and their shared stylist.

Harry smiles and sits next to her comfortably, placing the drinks on coasters and the other various items on the coffee table.

“It’s my nickname for Harry since we’re both...Harry. Just felt silly calling each other Harry and Sue and Susan, they just fit so well.”

She nods, “I see.” But she didn’t really get it. She’d never had a friend where they only called each other a different name from their own, maybe a nickname that she would occasionally call them, but never one so ingrained that she would call them it when referring to them to someone else who surely didn’t know them and wouldn’t know them by the different name. Not that she really knew who Harry Lambert was in the first place, but it still made more sense than Susan. She shook it off just as another quirk of Harry being who he was.

They settle in for the show and they love talking through it, which Y/N was happy that Harry liked to talk during shows as well. She hated when people shushed her during movies and shows when she had something to say. They commented on the fashion and how wild some of the stuff was. Thankfully, as well, even Harry thought some of the things the royals did were absurdly lavish.

“He is so hot,” she finally says when Prince Charles is on the screen for another time and she can’t keep it in anymore, “How could they cast him for Prince Charles, they are far too kind.”

“Josh?” Harry questions, glancing over at his friend curled up on the couch next to him. She had her feet tucked beneath her legs and had her body on its side while staring at the television.

“Don’t tell me you know him too?” She says, taking her focus off the TV to look at Harry, a chocolate chip landing in her mouth once she finished talking.

Their blue slushies had been finished and the popcorn was half eaten. She was pretty sure they were on the second episode already.

He laughs, “No, but Emma says he’s very nice...He is rather attractive.”

That makes her smile, the both of them finding an actor attractive. It felt like Harry was like one of her friends from home, chatting about boys, something she really didn’t do anymore.

“Maybe you can introduce us,” she laughs, her head nudging at Harry’s shoulder beside her.

She doesn’t notice Harry’s lack of mirth at her joke as she turns her attention back to the screen, re-immersing herself in the plot. He twitches slightly uncomfortably at the thought of him introducing her to someone she might be interested in romantically.

“Why not,” he says half-heartedly and he hopes she doesn’t notice his tone.

The next day was Friday and she had the day off as per usual.

After three episodes of the Crown, she and Harry had decided to call it a night. He had offered that she could spend the night so she didn’t have to walk home after she had refused to let him walk her across the street. However, she declined, saying she didn’t like leaving Rori alone at night, especially since he was still getting used to the new house. Harry had understood but she could tell he was saddened by her leaving.

She had decided to plant some flowers in her front yard, hoping to liven it up. She had bought some plants at the local flower shop, pansies and aster thinking that purple and gold would look lovely together. She planned to set to work with little experience, but plenty of intention. Rori was outside with her for moral support, prancing through the growing grass and nibbling at the shrubs, more like a bunny than a dog.

Her mother had gifted her gardening tools a long time ago and their entire family had laughed because they knew Y/N didn’t have a green anything, most definitely not a green thumb. Today she had grabbed them and the plants and had placed it all in front of her planters. Then she sat there and went on her phone, scrolling through it mindlessly. She had no idea what she was doing or where to start so getting distracted was easy.

“Need any help?”

Her head turns and she slides away her phone with a sigh, knowing exactly who had just kindly asked to lend a hand.

Harry squints down at her and in this moment she is especially aware of just how tall Harry actually is. Normally she notices his height and thinks ‘yeah he’s tall’, but right now he towers over her. His hair is catching the surprising fall sun and causing glints of gold to radiate off him. His eyes are especially light right now and she feels oddly unnerved by their color, the hazy mint of some kind of predator. He is such a presence and she thought she had finally gotten used to him being in her life, but in this moment she is taken aback. She shakes her head after a moment too long of staring up at him.

“Hi,” she breathes and stands up from her sitting position. “I was just starting to do some planting, and I don’t know if you can tell but I have no gardening skills whatsoever.”

She gestures to her set up and Harry turns his gaze from her to the plants and smiles. He had been coming back from his morning jog and instead of entering his gate, he walked through hers. He looks at everything and reaches down to pet Rori when he comes running up happily to his friend.

“Well, it looks like a good start. Aster is an interesting thing to plant…” He kneels down to start digging up the soil in the planters.

She kneels beside him and watches him attentively. “I wanted chrysanthemums, they’re one of my favorites. But they were out, so it will have to do.”

“It will do perfectly,” he looks up at her from his work, “you wouldn’t have picked it if it wasn’t amazing.”

She makes a small smile at his statement, but doesn’t respond. Instead, she takes up mimicking his actions with the soil.

“Do you garden a lot?” Her voice is soft, not wanting to disturb the quiet that had fallen over them.

“Not much anymore, I don’t really have the time, but I used to with my mum.”

She hums and scratches behind Rori’s ears absentmindedly when he looks curiously at what they’re doing.

They work silently, only talking intermittently. At one point, she grabs them glasses of water from the kitchen, mostly for Harry because he’s actually working up a sweat planting her garden. Harry hums random songs that are on his mind and she wishes he would sing for her, but she would never dare ask him to.

They talk about the Crown and how much they loved all the clothes in it last night and where the plot is going since they know the true history it’s based on. Harry offers British insight into the Royals that she had never thought about and they even venture into British politics which she admits she never really thought about since usually the US politics is far more in the spotlight.

He talks about his views on politics and she gives hers, even stranger though they even venture further into usually rocky territory and discuss religion. She is very interested by what Harry has to say about religion, his answers are both completely expected and unexpected. Something she’s noticed about Harry with her is that she always seems to be surprised by what he says, but it still manages to make complete sense after a moment.

“I’m going back to LA tomorrow,” Harry muses as he regards one of the pansies, like he’s almost staring it straight in the eye.

“Oh?” She turns to face him.

She stops her aimless moving about of the dirt. She had mostly been playing with the dirt while he did the majority of the work. She just didn’t enjoy it. Harry had definitely made the activity palatable. She’d have to tell him she would have likely given up an hour ago had he not been there.

He sighs and sets the pansy into the hole in the soil he had made for it. “More shooting for the movie, I’ll be gone for another month.”

“Wow…I think saying goodbye to you is just going to get harder and harder.” She looks away, her arms crossing over herself instinctively when the wind blows just a little too hard.

Harry looks at her now and sees her curling in on herself and he wants to hug her, but they weren’t like that. Instead he places a hand on her shoulder, rubbing it slowly up and down trying to offer her some warmth.

“I think we’ve made enough progress today. It’s starting to get cold, hm?”

She looks at him now and nods, her hand moving up and capturing his in hers. Like they had when Harry walked her home after his game, their fingers twist and turn around each other. Their eyes shying between each other’s faces and interlocked hands.

She springs to her feet after a couple quiet minutes of dodging eye contact and simply enjoying the feel of one another against each other.

“I should thank you for all this help,” she starts and Harry gets up to stand, beginning to say there is no need for a thank you for what he did.

“No, no.” She stops him, “I wouldn’t have gotten anywhere without your help and I took up all of your day, practically.” She takes hold of his hands now to examine the dirt that has managed to cover them since he was convinced that she should wear the gloves her mother gave her. “You should come over tonight and I’ll cook you dinner. I’m a much better cook than I am a gardener.”

Harry looks at her quietly, his eyes blinking slowly. Like he’s basking in the small movements she’s making on his hands. She traces the little cross that straddles his thumb and pointer finger on his left hand.

“I’ll make sure to bring dessert then.” He smiles and tilts his head to the right and a little forward towards her. She gazes up at him softly. “I might even bring something extra special.”

She raises her brows, “A special treat from Harry Styles himself. I’ll be anxiously awaiting your return then.” She taunts him only slightly because what he had said just about brought her to her knees. The way his smile had shifted to a smirk and how his voice has grown quiet and low, it just felt very intimate.

Harry returns at half past six, as requested by Y/N. He was freshly showered and cologned and she had never found a man more attractive than in that moment. Before he came over he told her he was dressing nice and she had no idea what that might mean with him. But when she saw him, she understood.

What it meant was a crisp blue big collared Gucci dress shirt unbuttoned almost half way down his chest revealing his ever present cross and fitted high waisted brown trousers. His fresh haircut meant for the 50’s slicked back with pieces beginning to fall about just perfectly. No belt, no cufflinks, and no suit coat. Instead of a coat he had on a jacket that was similar to her giraffe jacket he had borrowed all those days ago. His own was comfortably settled over his shoulders and it was obviously made of fabrics far nicer than hers and wasn’t fraying in any place.

He posed in her doorway and even gave a twirl at which time Y/N laughed happily. It looked amazing on him, she had no idea how her jacket had been the thing that started this all.

“How do you like it?” He asks seriously. “Does it look alright?”

“It looks perfect on you, Har. Is that the extra special surprise?”

He smirks smugly at her compliment and comes into the home, greeting Rori quickly before following her back into the kitchen where she was still cooking.

“Oh no,” he says and places a bag filled with a bottle of red wine and a pint of her favorite ice cream on the counter (and the surprise tucked neatly at the bottom of the bag).

She looks at him quizzically as he begins to take the items out of the bag.

“There’s one last thing in there,” he points to the bag casually, while putting the ice cream in her freezer. “Do ya’ mind grabbing it for me, dove?”

She rolls her eyes and reaches into the bag. Her hand retrieves a magazine from the bottom of the bag and when she flips it over to the front side, a gasp escaped her lips.

“Harry! Oh my god!” Her hand goes to her mouth as she takes in the cover.

A US Vogue magazine with Harry on the front of it. He’s blowing up a balloon in the photo and he looks beautiful. His skin is flawless and his hair is luscious and flowing a little longer than he kept it now due to the movie.

“I’m a Vogue cover model now, eh?” He asks, looking on apprehensively as she begins to gingerly flick her fingers through the magazine’s pages.

“This is the surprise?” She looks up from the page with him and Gemma sitting side by side.

Harry nods and watches her absentmindedly trace his face on the page.

“Do you like the pictures?” His voice is soft and almost timid?

“Of course!” She exclaims, not wanting to let any doubts pass through Harry’s mind. “Is this what you were doing up in Scotland a couple months ago, right before we became friends and you said you wanted to surprise me with something top secret?”

He nods again, his grin creeping onto his face as she stares at the photo of him in the cover photo’s outfit where you can see the entire dress.

“I want that dress...did they let you keep it?” She continues flicking through the pages lightly and glancing at Harry across from her. The dinner forgotten for the moment.

“It’s Gucci, I didn’t keep it, but I’m sure I could call Susan and get you one ordered,” he replies easily, leaning over the counter to watch the magazine.

She scoffs, “I can’t afford a Gucci gown for no reason...AND before you try to say you’ll pay for it, I would never accept such a gift and I am so for real about that, Harry.”

He waves his hands out in front of him as if to say he’d never suggest such a thing even though they both knew he’d buy it for her in a heartbeat.

“These pants…” she mutters, eyes now fixed on the trousers Harry is wearing in a specific photo in the magazine. They’re tan with a darker stripe on the side of them but the most intriguing part is all of the different drawings on it that seemed to be all related to Harry.

“They’re fab, no?” He quirks a brow at her, his face still holding an apprehensive grin like she’ll take back her praise at a moment’s notice.

“So fab,” she echoes. “Are they bespoke?” Her question has a hint of sarcasm dripping behind it, knowing by now Harry was notorious for custom-made items.

“What gave it away?” He wiggles his brows.

Her eyes flicker to meet his and she sees they’ve ended up face to face once again. It seemed to happen too often with one another. She settles the magazine down and stands up straight. She couldn’t allow herself to indulge in the proximity of his inviting lips. The proximity of his warmth that had seemed to seep into all facets of her life in the last two months or so. It was wonderful and warm, but it wasn’t hers. She shared him with so many other people and she couldn’t get carried away with him because tomorrow he’d be gone.

“That really is amazing Harry. I’m very proud of you, but if you don’t want a burnt dinner, I need to start paying attention to what I’m cooking.” She turns away from him and she quickly takes a palm to swipe beneath her eye, collecting the stray liquid that somehow fell from her eye. Funny thing, she wasn’t cooking with onions.

Harry doesn’t notice the movement, simply sighing that she turned from him yet again. He ran a hand through his hair, further tousling the once coiffed hairdo and then twisted his ‘H’ ring around his finger before settling on a bar stool to flip through the magazine and watch her cook.

“When does the magazine come out?” She calls as she stirs the sauce that she’d be pouring over their spaghetti squash once it was finished baking.

“Next week, They’ll release the story online and then I’ll be hitting shelves,” he muses, reading a different story in the magazine, not particularly interesting in himself.

“I’m sure you’ll be flying off those shelves the second you’re placed down.” She laughs at her joke and Harry rubs his lips with his thumb and forefinger thoughtfully.

“You think so?” His eyes sparkle with mischief at his question.

She turns her head, an open-mouthed grin already on her face, a slight scoff falling from her mouth, “Oh c’mon, you know so. I think you’re one of the most loved men in the world and people fall more and more in love each year.” She almost added ‘and I don’t blame them’ but she refrained thankfully.

“Most loved...I like that. Such an interesting way to put it.”

“I mean, you’ve been famous for what? Ten years now? That’s a long time and I don’t think you’re going anywhere...At this point it’s not about how big your celebrity star is, it’s your level of belovedness and I think that level is quite high.” She comments on something about Harry they never talked too much of. Sometimes they talked about him knowing famous people and about the work he had to fly off to do, but never the specific fame of it all. She didn’t really think Harry liked to talk about.

She didn’t have much of an opinion on it, it didn’t matter to her whether Harry was a famous multi-talented big-C celebrity or he was a nobody with a random job. As long as he was still her neighbour she would never complain. He made her so happy and maybe if he hadn’t been famous he wouldn’t be the way that he was so she would never say it was a nuisance. It just came along with him.

“Well...like I said, it’s a lovely way to put it. So, thank you for that.”

He stands up now, forgetting the magazine and rounding the counter to find a cork for the wine seeing that Y/N was doing the final touches on their food.

They eat dinner across from each other at her modest-sized dinner table. Harry slips his giraffe coat off and rolls up his sleeves to allow him to “really dig in” to the dinner she made for them. Maybe some footsy occurs beneath the table but neither of them would ever admit to it so did it really happen? Just feet moving randomly and happening to rub against one another every so often.

After dinner and a bottle of wine, the two of them join Rori in the living room where he’s curled up on one of the throw pillows. Y/N runs back to the kitchen to scoop them ice cream and whips of two Moscow Mules to go with it because she had brought up how when she usually goes home for the holidays, her and her sister always have a competition of who can make the most unique but best tasting Moscow Mule. Harry had said how he’d love to be there one day for that and she had blushed and tucked a piece of hair behind her ear from the comment before taking a large gulp of wine. Since that wasn’t possible right now, her tipsy mind had decided that the next best thing was to make some basic ones right now.

“I bring a Mule and an ice cream,” she says airly, playing like a royal herself, as she holds them out to Harry.

He laughs softly and accepts them graciously, doing a slight head bow to her. Before he can say anything she’s a flash of plaid and red as she runs back for her own ice cream and drink. He had been complimenting her plaid pants with golden bees on them all night and asked her where she got them, teasing that they must be Gucci, but all she would say is that he couldn’t have them to go make a copy of this time.

She re-enters the room and dims the lights with her hip. Then she settles beside him, clinking her glass with him and they both take their first sip.

“Hmmm,” Harry hums after he tastes the cocktail, “I like it.”

“Moscow Mules are a favorite with my family,” she muses, flicking through the television to get them set up to watch the Crown again.

“Maybe I should meet them and thank them for bestowing such a good favorite unto their daughter?” Harry asks and she laughs and rolls her eyes. Questions of meeting family when they were just friends didn’t need a response. Right?

They spoon ice cream into their mouths as the show begins and they murmur comments to one another throughout the episode. They idly pet Rori sometimes as he moves randomly around the room trying to find the place he likes most. Once Harry’s done with his ice cream, Rori thinks his chest is the best place to be and Y/N can’t help but snap a quick photo of it.

“Not quite as handsome without the dress, but it’ll do,” she sighs and snuggles into Harry’s side. Her hand reaches up to scratch at Rori which then leaves her arm wrapped around Harry when her dog inexplicably leaves to go to bed a few minutes later.

He was an awfully good wingman Harry would easily admit at a much later date.

They stay cuddled casually with one another for the entirety of two more episodes and they realize they’re more than halfway done with the season. A yawn from Y/N cues to Harry that he should suggest they pause for the night. She agrees easily, her head nuzzling into his strong shoulder for a little while.

Harry takes the remote from her and turns off the television before flicking on the side table turquoise glass-blown lamp.

“Can I put some music on?” He whispers in her ear, already knowing the answer, but waiting for her to nod her head. She obliges and he slowly slides her onto the couch beneath them. Then he begins padding around her house to find her speaker.

“Arrow Through Me” by Harry’s all time role model Paul McCartney’s second band Wings begins to play through the speakers. What a fucking moutful.

She perks up at the music and sits up straighter on her couch. Her smile grows as Harry shakes his hips a little and moves to the beat of the song as he makes his way back over to the couch. He opens his mouth to say something, but instead of words ringing loud through the room, it's the sound of a phone buzzing from somewhere between a few cushions on the couch

“Oh shit...shit, shit, shit,” she awakens herself out of her daze with her profanity. Attempting to find her phone rather haphazardly, she stumbles around the couch.

It’s Harry who fishes the phone from beneath a throw pillow and hands it over to his friend. She smiles thankfully, her hair a little messy and her eyes slightly crazed, before picking up the phone without even looking at the caller ID.

“Hello?...Cate?...Oh, hey….No, I didn’t look at the ID...figured it was you or someone in the states...no one in the UK would call me right now...It’s almost midnight here, you asshole,” she pauses and points at the phone and mouths “it’s Cate” like Harry hadn’t been sitting there listening to the entire conversation.

“I’m just hanging out watching the new season of Crown...with Harry...yeah, that Harry,” she flits her eyes to Harry for a second and rolls her eyes sarcastically.

“Talk to him? I mean.. I can put you on speaker, I guess?” She looks at Harry and he nods his head eagerly.

She rejoins him on the couch and places the phone on the coffee table, tapping on the speaker.

“You’re on speaker now.”

“Hi Harry!” Cate crackles over the line, happily, likely just awoken from her slumber in California.

“Hullo, love,” he says sweetly, his voice beginning to slow even more as the night wears on.

Y/N rolls her eyes at both of her friends, knowing Harry was laying it on thick and that Cate would squeal over this exchange for the next three weeks.

“What are you two lovebirds up to?” She inquires sweetly and Harry makes an arched brow at Y/N and she only supplies a shaken head and a shoulder shrug.

“Cate….” Y/N drags out, annoyed with her for both saying that and for calling just as she was planning on going to sleep.

“Sorry! Friends, I know. Even though staying in on a Friday night with just the two of you doesn’t sound very friendly…” She begins to ramble on, but Y/N offers another warning ‘Cate’. Cate takes the hint and finishes her teasing. “Anyways…”

Harry and Y/N are completely red, sitting next to one another but grateful for the minimal lighting.

“I was just calling to check-in. Do you know what you’re doing for the holidays yet? I know you don’t do thanksgiving anymore - which was yesterday by the way - since you’re all British now.”

Y/N scoffs at her close friend and Harry nudges her side about the British thing.

“I don’t know yet, I have to see my work schedule and all that. I don’t know if I want to fly across the world this year though…” She trails off, kind of quieting in hope that Cate will miss it.

Harry regards the conversation, casually interested, yet intrigued since he had been meaning to ask the exact same question.

Cate hums, obviously unhappy with the response. “Alright. And you Harry? Do you usually go home to your family for the holidays?”

“You don’t need to answer that,” Y/N interjects.

Harry places a hand on her thigh to let her know that it’s completely fine. An easy smile on his lips as he speaks to the phone. Y/N places her hand over Harry’s on instinct.

“Usually, yeah. This year we were thinking of all going out to my place in Italy so it’s kind of up in the air right now. When I get back from LA, I’ll probably finalize it.”

“LA you said? We should get together while you’re here.”

“Cate. He’s there on business.”

“I know...but still. It’s fine,” Cate laughs lightly, knowing she was pushing her luck with this conversation as it was. “Anyways, darling, I just wanted to tell you I miss you and that Harry’s not allowed to replace me as your best friend. Y’hear that Mr. Styles?”

“I sure do, love.”

Everyone laughs whole heartedly and Harry and Y/N are still playing with each other’s fingers on top of her thigh.

Y/N thinks that’s enough of the conference call with Harry and Cate so she snatches the phone with her free hand and raises it back to her ear.

“Alright, Cate, I think we’re going to head to bed...not...not like that...I hate you...Now I definitely don’t want to come home...I’m kidding, I’ll think about it...Love you, too….Yeah I’ll tell him...Have a nice day…”

She throws the phone on the coffee table again and falls back on the couch. Her head rolls to rest on Harry’s broad shoulder and she sighs softly. Harry moves his head to rest over hers, chuckling softly. His sweet breaths of joy are why he then receives a soft slap on his far arm, only making him laugh more.

“Shut up,” her muffled voice comes out from against his blue shirt that is far more crumpled than it was when he came over hours ago.

“She’s so funny,” he laughs again, nosing his face into her hair.

“She tries to get away with way too much,” she sighs and Harry just pats at her side, smiling and not caring at all about the things Cate was hinting at because he wanted what she was alluding to to be reality.

“Y’know I have a question because she said I can’t be your best friend and that’s fine with me, but I wanted to tell you something, love.”

Her head raises to look Harry in the eye, slightly confused by his preface.

“You’re my best friend,” he says earnestly in the dark living room, “Is that allowed?”

His accent was thick with anticipation, the night wearing on his vocal cords. It was so quiet in the room, Harry was sure she just heard him swallow his own saliva - he had paused the music after a minute into the call with Cate. He blinks twice while waiting for any response, he stares straight at her.

Her eyes barely shine through the darkness as she looks back at him. His question rattled through her mind. ‘Is it allowed’ for him to think of her as his best friend. It just didn’t make complete sense to her and she wasn’t sure if she should vocalize that doubt. But as his eyes begin to mist like a forest on a cold morning she knows she has to say something.

Her eyelids shut as she lets out a heavy breath, the processing of what Harry’s just said finishes.

“It’s allowed...Do you mean it?”

“Course I mean it,” his voice cracks, an incredulous laugh leaving his lips.

She straightens up, moving slightly from his warm embrace. He becomes fidgety without her tucked in his side. His fingers itch without her arm to caress. His lips move between his teeth without her hair to ghost over.

When she remains silent, Harry decides to continue.

“I remember the first time I saw you,” he croaks and she furrows her brow at this. “It was the day you moved in...Had just come home from my morning run and you’d pulled up in your moving van. I thought you had on the coolest pair of jeans I’d ever seen…” He pauses. He takes a deep breath and her eyes are watering now.

“I also thought you were one of the most beautiful women I’d ever seen and I knew I had to know you.”

“Why’d it’d take you so long?” Is all she asks as she tries to will away the water welling in her eyes.

Harry rolls his lips together and breathlessly laughs, head tilted up to the sky. “Never knew how to approach ya’. Then you bumped into me, felt like it was the universe kicking me for being so damn slow.”

She bites her lip, a tear rolling down her cheek finally. “Oh, Harry.”

Then there it is. What the last few months had been leading up to. The moment where they no longer were able to wonder what the other would taste like. No more guessing. No more wondering. It was concrete. It was her lips pressed to Harry’s. She laughed lightly after a moment, pressing closer to him. His lips felt like the softest pillow she could ever lay on and she never wanted to get out of bed.

A small breath came out of his nose as he pressed eagerly back against her. She tasted like ginger and chocolate and maybe cherry - her chapstick possibly. He sucked at her lips, never wanting the taste or the feeling to go away. She was so soft and smooth and she responded quickly to his push.

Her hands wrapped around the back of his neck and into his hair as he pulled her closer by her waist. They were attempting to inhale one another, taking inventory of every possible crevice of each other they hadn’t touched before.

Harry’s lips part slightly as he swipes his tongue across her bottom lip. She giggles, tugging him over her and opening up her mouth easily. He pushes forward, a small sound leaving his mouth as he shifts them into a lying position on the couch, her legs encircling his waist.

A hand runs along her jaw, down her neck, across her collarbone and then down her arm. It lands so that he can intertwine their hands together. He feels her smile beneath him and he smiles back despite their lips never leaving one another. His other hand caresses her cheek as he kisses her.

Eventually, his lips roam around her face and on her neck aways, but mostly he focuses on her lips. Both of them are more than happy with this decision as they continue on for what feels like hours. Yet still those hours don’t feel long enough.

She pulls at a button on his shirt at one point, but Harry pulls back.

“I think we should call it a night.”

“Really?” She looks at him with confusion and a swirl of hurt in her eyes.

“It’s late, love, and… we just, I don’t want to rush anything.”

“Alright,” she nods, sitting up and running a finger down the side of his face.

“I think I’ve been doing best friends wrong all this time.” she muses, tracing lines on Harry’s neck now. Her eyes focused on her work.

“And why’s that?” Harry asks, his own hands running up and down her back.

“I’ve never snogged a best friend for hours on end.” She laughs and Harry can’t help his snort.

He moves his head to rest on her shoulder, almost like a hug, but not quite. She doesn’t move away, simply turns her head to continue watching her hands trace him, her work now moving to the back of his neck and his upper back and shoulders.

He hums a little bit, a love song he had played for himself the last few weeks when he tried to fall asleep and all that he could think of was her. She smiles softly and places a kiss on his shoulder.

“Let’s go to bed, darling.”

Harry nods, wrapping his arms around Y/N and carrying her to her room.

The next morning she finds herself wrapped happily in a set of strong, tattooed arms. She sighs content, snuggling closer to the warm naked chest in front of her.

“G’morning,” the man beneath her whispers. His voice a low rumbling rasp, she feels the vibrations below her.

“Morning,” she mumbles, nuzzling her nose into the crevice of his sternum, just above the butterfly that lives on his chest.

He hums at the feeling, slightly shivering from the cold, but pulls her closer nonetheless. She caresses his side with a light touch in response. Her fingers trace unknown patterns down his ribcage and then dip to the ferns peeking from his boxers. He shifts slightly when her fingers travel there. A place no one but him had touched in a long time.

“’ve got a plane to catch,” he says sadly and he brushes a hair from her face as she turns to look at his face.

His neck strains to regard her and he has a bit of a double chin from this angle, but she couldn’t care less. He looked so beautiful staring down at her. She never wanted to look away or lose this image. His eyelashes lightly caressed the skin just below his eyes everytime he blinked. It was quiet enough that if she listened close she could hear each flutter. The eyes behind them were even better, a dark rim of green encases emerald irises that hold black and gold specs, stars and stories swirl hidden beneath it all. She wants to drown in it.

He winks at her as she stares, growing disarmed with her intense gaze on him for so long. Her calming caress keeps him grounded though and she laughs at the wink, relieving him of her scrutiny that he didn’t understand was awe.

She groans, unhappy, “Miss it.”

“I can’t,” he drags out, not wanting to leave either.

“Can’t convince you to stay, no?” She rolls on top of him, pushing her chest against him and giving him doe eyes.

His strong arms encircle her waist as her legs straddle him. She arches more into him and leans down to kiss in between his pecs. Her eyes never leave his face, watching his reaction. It’s his turn to groan with a loud sigh to match. He throws his head back and steals himself to say,

“Not even a chance.”

She remembers when he had begged her to come with him and she smiles at his recycling over her response.

“Fair enough,” she says and rolls off of him. His head falls to the side to watch her get up and begin her day. He takes a deep breath, wishing he didn’t have to leave.

Harry heads back to his place to get ready for his departure. Before he leaves he joins Y/N and Rori for an early tea at the café. They get their drinks to go and walk back to Harry’s together. When they arrive, Harry’s car is waiting and she feels a dryness in her throat. He looks down at Rori and gives him a quick pet. He turns to her and she smiles weakly.

Harry’s hand encircles her wrist, caressing her softly. He leans down quickly and pecks her lips. It feels like he was barely there and then he was gone. It was like a butterfly had landed on her lips and wrist and then it had vanished.

Off his sleek black car goes, soon out of sight and headed for the airport. And there she is, left on Sherwood Avenue. Her fingers move to dance over her lips and then over her jaw and down her neck. Every place his touch had burned her in the past 24 hours. And now he was gone, across the world.

No talk of what came next had been spoken between them. She wasn’t sure what they were and didn’t know if she could handle that talk over the phone. She walked home after a few minutes of standing with her dog in front of Harry’s now vacant home. She sat silently in her house for half of the day.

At dusk, she decides on a run, maybe it will get her mind off her neighbour. She had sat in the same spot for too long. The same spot they had kissed each other last night. Maybe a change of scenery would stop the movie reel of last night that kept playing over and over in her mind.

She runs down the street, specifically keeping her eyes off the lovely home across from her, and keeps running down different streets, past the café, down to the park, and then finally reaches a stream that is past some brush and trees at the end of the park. There’s a bench there that seems like a nice place to rest.

Her music has been playing the entire time, the playlist she chose was inundated with Taylor Swift - but not chosen for that specific reason. Each song thankfully not from 1989. At least not until she’s running through the park. “You are in love” begins to play, it’s soft Twin Peaks-esque opening is familiar to her. It fits the cool rush of wind against her skin and the leaves that have turned brown as fall has worn on. She’d listened to it a thousand times. Sometimes thinking about the man who inspired the song, but all those times were long before she had ever met him.

Now that she knew him, she almost skipped it, but shook her head to herself feeling silly for feeling uncomfortable listening to a song she liked. Her run turns into a walk as she reaches the stream. The chorus begins. Taylor softly serenades about being in love. About a man in love with a woman. About Harry being in love with her.

She takes a deep breath, hearing the words a little different this time. Taylor sings “You kiss on sidewalks” and this morning flashes in her mind. She looks out at the stream, the water rushing along as she stands there, still catching her breath. Then the next part of the song reaches into her heart and twists it with all its might.

“One night he wakes, strange look on his face, pauses, then says, ‘you’re my best friend’.”

And that’s it. She takes out her headphones, her breath no longer capable of being caught. She breathes heavier and heavier. Her throat was as tight and dry as when Harry had left this morning. Possibly even worse. She can’t even swallow this time. Her phone and headphones are discarded on the bench as she raises her hands to her face and begins to pace beside the stream. Her eyes eventually match the body of water next to her and she feels a sob wrack through her. She couldn’t breath, her running and panic had brought her asthma to the forefront and she was hyperventilating, gasping for air. She was drowning and no one was there to help her.

Tears stream down her face and she moves her hands to her thighs as she tries to calm down, not knowing how she reached this level of distraughtness. Deep breaths she reminds herself. She licks her lips and shuts her eyes. “Just ground yourself,” she whispers.

When she’s finally gotten ahold of herself she sits at the bench and stares into the stream. A distorted version of herself seems to stare back. It’s constantly moving, swirling, and changing and as she watches that version of herself she wants to scream. Her tears had faded awhile ago, but the fear was still there.

The last few months had been so easy, had been so perfect. Going over to each other’s houses and being with each other. But if she ignored history wasn’t she destined to repeat it? When she heard the confessional of the man Taylor had loved in her song, when he had told her she was his best friend which meant he was in love, she felt hurt. She knew how their story ended. Taylor and Harry’s. He left. He left her when she needed him and today, Y/N realized it’s what he does. It wasn’t his fault, she didn’t blame him for leaving today. It was his job, not another woman. But holy fuck when she heard Taylor sing those lyrics, it felt like she had been hit on the head out of nowhere. Reminded that she had been living in a fairytale for the last few months, swept up in a fantasy that she wasn’t meant to be a part of.

She ran a hand over her face, rubbing slightly at her cheek. The same cheek Harry had caressed last night and she sighed. She stared off into the trees and then shook her head, standing up and heading back home. Alone.

Harry calls her when he arrives at LAX. She doesn’t pick up. He calls the next day. She doesn’t pick up. He texts and receives no response for three days.

She thought she didn't know what she would say.

“I listened to too much of your ex’s music and now I’m insecure.”

“I feel like you’re gonna leave me someday so I’m too afraid to do anything with you.”

“Is it alright if we’re just friends, I don’t think my heart could take the pain of falling in love with you and then losing you.”

“You can’t promise me forever and after just one kiss I knew I couldn’t do anything less.”

“The price of loving you is far too high.”

She types them all out and then deletes them every time. Too scared. Instead:

“I’m busy with work, I don’t know when I won’t be. Let’s just plan on meeting up when you’re home.”

Harry nods when he sees the text on Friday. He tells her to take care and make sure she gets enough rest. He wipes away the stray tear that decided to escape his eyes after reading her response. He exhales and looks to the sky, wondering what could have possibly happened since he had left. He sends little emojis over the next few weeks that she puts a heart on, but she doesn’t communicate otherwise.

Harry doesn’t ask her to pick him up. Instead he sends flowers to her house the Thursday before he returns. They make her smile and she wonders if maybe she can move past every red flag she feels like she sees. After a month away, she can’t lie and say she’s not excited for Harry to return. She missed his warm skin and his soft hair. She missed everything and the flowers had only made her wish it had been Harry on her doorstep a couple days early.

He gets home on the 12th and he’s at her door after throwing his things in his entryway.

She opens the door and bites her lip as she takes in who it is.

Harry says her name breathlessly and she melts. Her doubts fly out the window for the moment and all she wants are his lips on hers.

She falls into him and his lips are on hers. They twist into one another and their lips move softly yet urgently against one another. Not sure how to explain the last four weeks, they both attempt to say everything in that kiss. All her pain and confusion press into Harry’s lip with each breath. All his sadness and longing tug at her lips as he sucks her bottom lip into his mouth and hungers for more.

He pulls back and stares straight into her eyes, “Come to Italy with me for the holidays.”

She tilts her head confused, trying to catch her own breath.

“I’m not sure what happened while I was gone, love. But I know I missed you and I can’t go another month without you. Just say yes and we’ll take it from there...Please,” he begs, voice cracking as he holds her cheek.

She wets her lips and opens them to speak, but her voice betrays her. Instead she just nods and squeaks out a noise of approval. Too elated to speak, they press their lips back together and she pulls Harry into her home.

December was far too cold to snog out in the freezing night air.

#harry styles fluff #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x reader #harry styles smut #harry styles angst #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles fan fiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fan fic #harry styles one shot #neighbor!harry #I live in the neighbourhood #part 2 #part 3 to come #pls rb and message me ily #surprisingly somewhat proofread

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themonotonysyndrome · 3 years

Text

REDACTED verse - A dinner and a show

Prompt: any | any | competition

Word Count: 2,460

Author/Team: LadyMonotone

Fandom/Original: Redacted ASMR (Vincent Solaire/Lovely)

Rating: T

Triggers: Explicit implications

Summary: It's a tradition within the Solaire Clan that the King would visit his progenies from time to time. Tonight, Will is coming over to Vincent & Lovely's apartment for dinner. What's not a tradition is the karaoke competition that comes afterwards.

ConCrit: Y

I don’t know what happened. This oneshot just went out of my control but I had so much fun writing it today! I hope you guys enjoyed it!

Also, I just realised that all the characters in my oneshots have been eating lately. Oh my god, I got so hungry when I was writing them that I subconsciously includes food in some of the scenes 😭 Food is my love language so I guess it’s cute that the bois and their lovers would sit down and eat together.

That being said, I hope you guys will crave Korean food as much as I am in this oneshot! 😅

“Vincent? I need your help. Can you tell me what’s Will's favourite colours?”

“Lovely - ”

“Because I have some formal outfits in our closet, but they don’t mean shit if Will hate the colours.”

“Lovely, hang on - ”

“Is he allergic to perfumes? Colognes? I have some soft-scented bottles that should be Vampire-friendly! I think? Most of them are floral though… oh! Does he have a favourite flower? Do you think I should buy some before he comes over?”

“What? No, Lovely, I think you’re working yourself up - ”

“I know you bought some blood bags for dinner but do you think we should cook some food too? Does Will like to eat? Shit, I knew I should have bought some groceries yesterday after class!”

“You’re not listening to me at all, Lovely…”

“We have to clean up the whole place too. I don’t know how our furniture gets so dusty so quickly! I just wiped them down a few days ago!”

“...”

“Do you think I should do my hair too? It’s a bit of a mess lately; I could use a trim. Does Will - ”

Lovely's eyes widen as a deep kiss suddenly silences them. Their heart pounds when Vincent brings them close to his chest, trapping his lover in his arms. Lovely's eyes flutter close when he pulls away to press butterfly kisses on their neck. They couldn’t help it; they moan and tilt their head back when they feel fangs delicately drag down their tender skin.

“Vincent!” Lovely hisses, not sure for what, though, when Vincent's fangs pinprick where their pulse is.

“Oh? Are you finally with me again, Lovely?” Vincent breathes, loving how their heart begins to beat faster and faster in anticipation. His chest reverberates when he chuckles deeply. “There we go… I have your attention again, little one.”

They grumbled at the unfairness of it all. Just as Lovely knew all of Vincent’s weaknesses and tickle spots, he knew how weak their knees behaved when he pressed his fangs to any parts of his partner's body. Especially down south.

“I’m serious here, Vince.” Lovely whines. “There are so many things we have to do before Will comes over for dinner tonight. I want to make sure everything’s perfect.”

Vincent gives Lovely a deadpan look. They would’ve coo at how adorable he looks if it weren’t for his Vampiric speed and his habit of chucking them onto the bed whenever Lovely is being too stubborn to listen to reason. “Lovely? A question: are you dating my Sire or me?”

Lovely blinks; they didn’t expect that. “Uh, you, duh.”

“Then trust me, as your boyfriend,” Lovely has no idea why Vincent emphasised that last word, but they knew better than to interrupt him when he gets like this. “That everything’s going to be fine. Besides, I told you that while this might look like the whole ‘meeting the parent’ shtick, the relationship between a Sire and their Progeny is way more than that.” He patiently reminds them.

“Well yeah, but he means a lot to you.” Lovely points out. Now, why did Vincent look so surprised at that? “So that means he’s important to me too. That’s why this dinner has to be perfect.”

For a moment, Vincent said nothing. He just stares at them in wonderment.

Lovely let out a surprised squeak when Vincent suddenly crushed them in a hug. “How did I get so damn lucky with you, Lovely?” He murmurs, face buried on top of their head. “Sometimes I think that you’re… too amazing to be real.”

So soft and sweet; that’s Vincent. Lovely lets him cuddle them like his personal teddy bear until he's satisfied.

“Now, I need you to do something for me, Lovely. Do you think you can do it?”

Lovely raise an eyebrow. “Depends on what it is, Vince. I haven’t eaten anything yet, so I can only give you at least four hours in bed - ”

“N-Not that!” Vincent hurries to interject, a brilliant red blush runs across his cheeks despite him being a Vampire. He coughs once to get them on track, playfully glaring at Lovely for trying to distract him. “Geez, Lovely. It’s still way too early for… that. But we're definitely going to revisit that. Anyway, I need you to calm down for a second, OK? Will is a pretty chill guy and an open-minded Sire. He knows how much I love you, so you have nothing to worry about.” He gently assures them, rubbing calming motions up and down Lovely's back.

Lovely could feel their anxiety melts away. Just enough for them to finally breathe again ever since Vincent dropped the bomb that William Solaire will be coming over for dinner tonight.

Apparently, everyone in the Clan knows that the King would visit his Progenies at least once a month to check up on them. Just like how a parent would drop by their children's home for a visit, in Lovely's opinion.

“Ok. You win, baby.” Lovely sighs, loving how his rubbing eases the tense muscles. They arch their back like a pleased, spoiled cat when Vincent messages that spot below their shoulders. “Ooooh, yes, that’s the spot!”

Once Lovely's bones feel like they could melt at any time, they throw Vincent a grateful smile.

“Now, there’s the smile I’ve been missing the whole day!” Vincent teases. “C’mon Lovely, let’s plan for dinner before we take our nap. How do you feel about seafood?”

“Oh, I can go for some seafood. It’s been a while.”

“Spicy steamed crabs with scallops, battered pan-fry oysters and some chilled bowl of rice top with raw salmon and sea bass with slices of your favourite veggies? All Korean-style."

“Hell yes. I think we have all the ingredients for that. Wait. Err, can Will handle spicy food?”

"Uh... I have no idea. Maybe we should hold back on that spicy steamed crabs with scallops just in case."

Ever since the two started living together, Vincent really took a shine when it came to cooking and baking. The idea of providing for Lovely makes him ridiculously happy, and besides, him whipping up healthy and delicious food for them results in much richer and sweeter blood flowing within his lover for him to feed on so… win-win!

As the two of them traverse to the kitchen to start preparing the ingredients for dinner, Lovely slowly gain the confidence that their dinner tonight with Vincent's Sire will turn out alright.

And before both of them knew it, the sun had set.

After a fresh shower, the entire apartment is now spotless (to Lovely's standard), and dinner is served on the table, the doorbell rings.

"I'll get it!" Lovely announce just as Vincent finish putting down the plates. They smoothen out the creases on their clothes, roll their shoulders before taking a deep, calming breath and answer the door. Like a soldier marching towards the battlefield.

Seeing his partner's dramatic reaction, Vincent just shakes his head.

As soon as Lovely opens the door, William Solaire greets them. "Good evening. I hope I'm not too early. The evening traffic has been quite a hassle lately. I figured that even if I'm a bit early, I could help you and Vincent in the kitchen." Will explains. In his arms is a bouquet of white pear blossoms, yellow gladioluses and red tulips. When Lovely stares at them curiously, Will smiles knowingly. "Vincent informed me that you don't drink, so I decided that flowers would be the appropriate gift as oppose to a bottle of champagne."

"They're so pretty." Lovely reply, breathless when they receive the bouquet. "Thank you so much, Will! I'll put them in a vase now. Oh, and please come in." They graciously step aside to let Vincent's Sire in.

While Lovely is busy rummaging for a vase in the storeroom, Will and Vincent make small talks over at the dining table. Vincent passes the ancient Vampire a tall glass of blood which Will accept with gratitude.

"Hey, Will. How's it going?"

"I'm fine, Vincent. Thank you for asking." Will reply after dabbing the bloodstain on the corner of his lips. "The Clan is the same as usual; Our Newborn members have finally settled in nicely, much to Sam's relief. I plan to visit them next week."

Vincent tops up Will's empty glass before replying. "That's great to hear." He's about to say something else before a loud bang against the wall in the storeroom stops him. "Uh, Lovely? Is everything OK in there?" He calls out.

"It's fine, it's fine!" Lovely shouts back. "I found the perfect vase for the flowers!"

Vincent groans in exasperation. When Will throws him a confused expression, Vincent is compelled to explain. "Look, Will, Lovely has been freaking out about tonight's dinner the whole day. They think that if it turns out anything but perfect, you're going to be disappointed in them. So just... just play along, alright?"

Will chuckles; his heart warms at the thought that Lovely holds him in such high regard. What an adorable human. "Is that so? Very well then, I will play the perfect guest towards such kind hosts."

And true to his words, when Lovely joins them at the table after putting the vase full of flowers on the coffee table in the living room, Will waste no time in kicking his charm to the max. In between their meal, Will makes sure to compliment Lovely's outfit (which earned him a shy yet pleased blush from Lovely and a jealous kick at his shin from Vincent). He then comments that the spicy steamed seafood dish is his favourite, and when desserts are introduced, Will gently helps Lovely open up by asking about their interests and hobbies.

Will is pleasantly surprised to find one of the many common grounds they share: their love for analysing music.

"I find RM to be one of the most brilliant lyricists in this generation." Will states once his bowl of red bean shaved ice is empty. "His songs are undoubtedly impactful for the youths of today. Not to mention that I'm quite fond of his wordplays."

"You're into K-pop!?" Lovely ask, utterly gobsmacked. Their eyes are wide in shock.

Vincent snorts. "Alexis is a BTS fan. Somehow, she managed to convert Will too."

When Lovely turn to face Will once more, their expression frozen in disbelieve, he adds, "We're planning to catch their concert once the situation permits it."

Will's pop culture admission finally broke the ice. Lovely laughs in delight before launching themselves into an animated conversation about modern music with Will.

However, it wasn't long before their topic suddenly went off the rail when Vincent claimed that he's a better shower singer than Lovely.

"Oh please, Vince, I thought you were dying in the bathroom," Lovely interjects with a roll of their eyes. Vincent splutters at his partner's cruel remark, but Lovely presses on without mercy, much to Will's amusement. He resolutely keeps his mouth shut despite his growing grin slowly making its way up to his face. "Face it, you're tone-deaf. Being a Vampire doesn't magically make you a good singer."

"Those are some fighting words, Lovely. Can you back them up?"

"We can settle this tonight if you want. You and me; we can duke it out in a singing swag off with Will as the judge." Lovey declares with a smirk before they head into the living room. All revved up as if their previous anxiety over dinner had never happened.

"Oh my..."

Vincent turns to Will with a grateful nod. "Thanks for helping them relax. And hey, you don't have to stay if you have some other plans tonight, Will."

Will stares back at his Progeny with a faux, scandalous look on his face, complete with a hand on his chest. "Why, Vincent, where would I be anywhere but here? It's not every day that I get to see you humbled by your lover. Don't think I forget that you were once known as the Playboy of the Solaire Clan."

Shock looks good on Vincent's face. It's cute that he actually forgot how he was before Lovely walks into his life. Oh, Will is going to milk this for all its worth.

"Alright! The system is set up!" Lovely announce from near the TV with a microphone in their hand. "Will, come on! You need to help me prove that Vincent sings like a dying cat. Here, here!"

"Oi, oi! We haven't even started yet!" Vincent rebuke and flits over to grab the spare microphone. "You know what, Lovely? I'm so confident that I'll win this that I'll let you go first."

Lovely grins viciously and accepts his offer. Once Will makes himself comfortable on the couch and signals for them to begin, Lovely open their mouth,

Will couldn't stop smiling as Lovely sings their heart out, and Vincent makes his grand entrance after they're done (singing one of Will's favourite songs in hopes to sway his Sire to his side). Vincent and Lovely are having the time of their life, teasing one another as they sing. Will commits this night into one of his most cherished memories.

*"Dari apa yang aku perhatikan

Manusia mahu senang tapi tak semua mahu berkorban

Dari apa yang mereka katakan

Ada yang jawab jujur tapi selebihnya kuat beralasan..."

However, as the night grows long, Will doesn't have the heart to tell them that they both are horrible singers.

Tonight, it's Sam's turn. Will deliver three knocks on his door before Sam swings it open. He looks exhausted, unamused and seconds away from running out of the house.

"Good evening, Sam."

"Good evening, William. Before you come in, can I ask why my Progenies insist on having a karaoke competition tonight? On the night where they knew you were coming?"

Will begins to smile widely. Both he and Sam could hear a heated argument between Frederick and Bright Eyes from the living room.

"No, you can't sing Bambi, Bright Eyes. I won't allow it! You're going to break the windows!"

"Oh my god, would you let me live, Freddy!?"

"We've been over this; you can't sing! Wait. What are you - put down that microphone - "

Music starts to play at maximum volume, and then,

Sam closed his eyes and sighed deeply and in resignation when Bright Eyes began to sing louder to drown out Frederick's shrieking.

**“Feel it like memalla itteon mam wiro

seumyeodeun danbi

dabi piryo eopji

Because you’re my favourite..."

"I don't know what had happened - and I honestly don't want to know - but I hope you're ready to deal with these two tonight."

"Why, Sam, where would I be anywhere but here?"

These are the English translations & link to the songs that Lovely and Bright Eyes were singing:

*“From what I can see

People want the good life, but are not willing to sacrifice

From what I hear

Some are honest but others are full of excuses...”

**“Feel it like timely rain that seeps into my dry heart

No other answer is needed

Because you’re my favorite...”

#redacted asmr #fanfic #they/them pronouns #gender neutral s/o #vincent solaire #lovely (listener)#william solaire #sam collins #frederick #bright eyes (listener)#pop culture references

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retrogalwrites · 3 years

Text

ex boyfriend!Touya x reader

Title: “ Fool me once, then again and again “ / view on ao3

Pairing: Touya x f! reader

Summary: You are dating Natsuo Todoroki, and you finally get to meet his family, everything was going well. Until you realize you have already met his older brother Touya before.

Warnings: dubcon, slight yandere, manipulation, gaslighting, blackmail, cheating, cuckolding, corruption, mindbreak of sorts, toxic ex boyfriend relationship

Other contents: creampie, rough sex, tit slapping, sub/dom, masochism

words: 6,826

For the longest time, you had believed that those stories of people finding true love were nothing but total bullshit.

After all, in a sea of hookups, uncommitted relationships and one night stands, it was almost laughable to think that anyone out there was going to somehow be the one and only. You went through college with nothing but bad relationships and heartbreak under your belt, things you would've rather left forgotten. By the time you had graduated, you managed to land a job, and were happy living on your own, there were no expectations from you towards love, not at all.

Until you met Natsuo Todoroki.

It was an unexpected meeting, much like out of those same cheesy romantic movies that you had always mocked. You two bumped into each other at a coffee shop, a guy that you had never seen before who spilled his coffee all over you, awkwardly apologized a hundred times, invited you to watch a movie, and the rest was history. You always teased him over it too, how his clumsiness somehow helped him to get a girlfriend. Watching him go all red in the face never failed to make you laugh.

Natsuo was the most wonderful boyfriend you could've asked for, easily topping any other relationship you had in the past. Despite being the son of a hero, and not just any hero but the number one hero of the country, Natsuo was humble and friendly, just living like an average guy and working hard as a nurse at the nearby hospital. Someone that you wouldn't even think had a family with the sort of money and influence the Todorokis were known for.

He also was always so sweet and gentle, funny too, a lovable big guy that treated you with so much care. Even during sex, he only ever made the most tender love to you, like you were a precious thing, a treasure that could break if he was too rough.

And you loved it, truly, you loved him, knew he felt very much the same too. Because he gathered the courage to introduce you to his family officially.

You two arrived at the Todoroki state on a cold Friday evening, just in time for dinner. There you were going to meet everyone and stay for the weekend.

His father, the number one hero Endeavor, was much like what he looked like on television. Big, rough and intimidating, but treated you with good manners. Then his mother, Rei, a soft-spoken woman that welcomed you kindly, she was friendly much like her son. Things seemed tense between them underneath the surface, expectedly so, since you knew from Natsuo that they were going through a divorce. It made their attempts at cohabitation just to make you feel comfortable at least appreciated.

His big sister, Fuyumi, was much like him too, sweet and gentle, a nice girl that made you feel right away at home, so excited to finally meet you. Then last but not least was his little brother, Shouto, a quiet but nice boy who tried his best to do small talk when he had to. You could tell that he at least was welcoming of you, which was good enough.

It was awkward at first, you were nervous to be dealing with them at first but you had managed entire thing just fine so far, much to your relief, as well as Natsuo's.

However, the last relative in the household had yet to arrive, the eldest sibling, and Natsuo's older, Touya. Apparently it was nothing out of the ordinary for him to be so unfashionably late, and dinner would not be put on hold just because he couldn't bother to show up on time, as Endeavor had put it. Even Natsuo seemed to reluctantly agree with his father on that regard.

Natsuo had told you before, about his brother's unruly behavior and a bit on an intense attitude, calling him a hellraiser. He had been only a bit worried that if you met him, you'd be slightly put off. Naturally you assured him it would be fine.

But it was only when you saw the guy that you understood just what a grave mistake you had made.

Only then that you realized that all the cheesy romance, all that stuff from the movies, really came with a price.

Right there, waltzing into the dinning room without a single care in the world, long strides and hands inside his pockets. The raven dyed hair, the piercings, the tattoos, even the smell of smoke and cinders filling your nostrils, it was all familiar, too familiar.

It was your ex boyfriend, Dabi.

Blue eyes fixated on your face almost instantly, stared and burned a hole right through your soul. A knowing look on his features, lips curling into a crooked grin, sardonic and throughly amused, a glint of joy in a face you had hoped to never see again.

"Well, well, well! So this is the girlfriend? Now I see why our little Natsu is so smitten."

Touya drawled, slowly like savoring every syllable, a type of teasing that tasted deliciously on his tongue. Just the sound of his voice,so low and raspy from the cigarettes you knew he always smoked, was making your heart race with anxiety and anger.

Touya took his seat at the dinning table. He deliberately took the chair in front of you just to watch you, of course he would, you had almost expected him to. Eyes still fixated on you, he plopped his elbows on the table and leaned on the surface, and you were so grateful for the table keeping him from getting any closer.

"Where did you even find this hottie, bro? I may just go there and get one of my own."

Heat rose to your cheeks, burning and painting your skin red with something like indignation, but to the others probably seemed just like shy demure. Yet in contrast to your body's temperature, on the inside it was like the blood in your veins had turned into ice, a violent shiver running down your spine that felt like high voltage, you gripped your thighs with both hands just to keep yourself from shaking.

"Touya don't be rude..." Fuyumi grimaced, sighing. This behavior clearly was nothing new to them, it seemed, but it was nothing new to you either.

"This is [Name], be nice." Rei joined the attempt to get the male to behave, probably for your sake.

In reality, you wished they wouldn't be trying to intervene, but you couldn't blame them either for not knowing something you desperately didn't want any of them to know.

Specially not Natsuo.

But you couldn't just get up and run, Touya knew you were trapped.

"Oh? Well, ain't that a pretty name? You probably already know who I am though, right?"

It was so cruelly calculated, every word spoken, a man already set out to make sure you squirmed in your seat.

"I'm Natsuo's big brother, I bet he talks about me all the time! This lil guy sure loves me."

"Oh please, I only told her how annoying you can be." Natsuo scoffed, rolling his eyes with the unconcerned, even if embarrassed, nature of someone who had no idea what was happening beneath the surface.

"But really, I'm proud of our little bro for scoring this high, y'know what I mean, Natsu?"

You looked down, unable to meet his gaze any longer.

"K-Knock it off, Touya." Natsuo grabbed your hand from underneath the table, and you almost jumped from the sudden contact, almost expecting to be burned. But it was cold, your beloved Natsuo's cool touch, and when you turned to look at him, he smiled at you with a gentle, apologetical smile. Probably thinking his brother's banter had caused you to feel uncomfortable. And while it was the right thought, he really had no idea.

Still, his touch grounded you back from the anxious dread that had been growing in your mind so quickly, and you felt like smiling back at him.

You loved Natsuo, you really did.

Suddenly a hand was extended towards you, and it took all of your will power not to flinch. Your attention cruelly ripped away from your boyfriend to stare at Touya's hand, waiting for a handshake.

The dread had returned, you didn't even realize you were staring.

"Sorry, sorry, let's keep the brother talk for later, m'kay?" He smirked at Natsuo, then turned at you to add, hand still out waiting for you to take it, he knew you had to take it.

"It's nice to meet you, [Name]."

You felt everyone's eyes on you, watching you, and resignation was your only answer. Cautiously, you were reaching out to him, held his hand in a hesitant hold.

The moment his rough skin brushed against yours, you felt it, again. A wave of heat spreading through your body like wildfire, just like you remembered from years past, that warm sensation tingling at your nerves, filling your lungs, the pit of your stomach.

It was nothing like Natsuo's cold touch, it was hot, burning, scorching.

"Um, yes. N-Nice to meet you too." You let go of him immediately, stumbling over your words and trying not to glare.

"Yep, really nice to meet my new sister in law."

"That's enough, Touya." The stern, booming voice of Endeavor silenced everyone at the table, specially the eldest son. "We are having dinner right now, have the decency to behave."

Endeavor could be quite scary, but you were much grateful for the intervention. Unlike Touya, of course, who immediately had tensed up, gritted his teeth with brows furrowed into a sour expression for a second, before that carefree look was back on his face, it was so quickly that you wondered if you had imagined it.

"Wait, are they getting married already?" Shouto quipped all of the sudden with genuine confusion, endearingly so.

Almost everyone seemed to be amused by the comment, even Touya, and some teasing looks were thrown at Natsuo, who had turned beet red from the embarrassment.

You found yourself a little embarrassed too, in a much lighter hearted way and that was a welcome change, it almost made you forget that feeling of someone's piercing blue eyes staring at you.

——————

Natsuo would touch your hand or your knee all through the night, smiling at you and gazing at your face with those loving eyes that could melt your heart. And yet, Touya made sure that your attention wasn't taken off him for long. Trying to rope you in conversation that held cruel double meaning, kept only pushing your buttons with sadistic glee.

You had to take a break, urgently, so you excused yourself with the pretenses of going to the bathroom.

You got up from your seat and rushed out the dinning room and into the hallways, not even really noticing that Natsuo had asked if you needed someone to show you were the bathroom was located.

You needed a moment alone to gather your thoughts, get your shit together. So you walked further into the huge Todoroki residence, looking for the nearest bathroom, though finding it was really not all that important in the end. As long as you were away from Touya for a bit, you would be fine.

Touya. A name foreign on your tongue, unlike Dabi. It upset you, and that on itself upset you even more, not only to know what an idiot you had been so many years ago, but that you still cared. But, could you be blamed? Could you be judged? When this jerk had to show up now, of all times, and——

"Hey baby, bathroom is the other way."

You stopped on your tracks, freezing on the spot. Your mouth felt dry and your hands balled into fists. That dreaded voice's hot breath feeling like it was tickling the shell of your ear, but you reacted only when you felt the brush of his warm hand placing itself on your shoulder.

Practically jumping away, you removed yourself from his touch, turning around to face that same amused grin you wished to smack off his face. That same grin that used to give your butterflies.

"Why did you follow me?" You spoke with a voice full of annoyance, bolder and direct, now that the rest of the family was out of earshot, you could at least give yourself the indulgence of expressing your feelings.

"Leave me alone, just...leave me alone, would you?"

Touya laughed. Of course he laughed. You didn't know what else you had expected. He had always done the same thing, laugh at your distress and mock you for it.

"Woah, now! Calm down, this is my house, are you trying to kick me out my own house?"

He jokingly raised his hands, didn't bother to hide his amusement, a broad smile that stretched from ear to ear. You only sighed with exasperation.

"You know that's not what I mean. God, you're still such an asshole."

You shook your head, but he simply shrugged dispassionately, dismissively. You hadn't even taken notice of your clenched fists, knuckles had begun to turn white, anger bubbling inside you just like it used to back in the day.

"Dunno what you got against me, I mean you're the one that came here willingly, remember? No one told you to go date my brother." You could've sworn he almost sounded resentful, but he had no right to be.

"I didn't know. I mean, how could I have? You clearly never told me your actual name Dabi, oh I'm sorry, I mean Touya." He never really told you anything substancial about himself in hindsight, and you felt like an even bigger fool, for having overlooked that along every other glaring red flag he carried around. Your own conflicted feelings made you miss the way something in his blue eyes flickered, tongue running over his lower lip.

"Well, it wasn't a big deal. It's not like it mattered, did it? We had a lot of fun anyway." He chuckled lowly, openly leering at you and making you blush from anger.

"Fun? Seriously, you call that fun?!" You laughed in disbelief, a bitter sound. "After all the crap you put me through, you just ended up dumping me. No, fuck your fun."

His expression turned dark then, a shadow over his eyes that had narrowed just slightly. His amusement had become annoyance.

"The crap I put you through? I don't recall you ever complaining when you begged for my cock like a damn college whore."

"That's not—!!"

"What, not true? Oh but I remember it very well. You'd always be so needy for my cock, letting me fuck you just whenever I wanted, heh, wherever I wanted too. Like a dumb bitch in heat. Come on, we both were on it for the sex more than anything. Now you're acting all high and mighty? Shit ain't cute babe."

It was like a punch in the gut that sucked all the air out of you, it rendered you speechless for a moment, shame and anger inside of you making your body shake. Had it really been like that? No, you did all those things because you were a stupid girl in love back then.

It was exhausting suddenly having to explain yourself to yourself, you didn't have the mental strength for it. You brought your fingers to pinch the bridge of your nose, sighing wearily. It was foolish of you to shut your eyes for even second however, just trying to gather your jumbled thoughts like that, because Touya took it as an invitation to close the distance between the two.

A sudden, familiar feeling of warmth enveloped your body, his arms circling around your waist and pulling you against his broad chest. But it was not a gentle touch, he was squeezing you in his hold to make sure he had you caged. You gasped, every muscle in your body tensing up like a frightened prey in a wolf's grasp. Your body felt hot.

"You're so cold, sugartits. Are you seriously not happy to see me? Not one bit?"

He spoke so softly all of sudden, you knew he was trying to appease you. He rested his chin on the crown of your head as he held you, one of his hands taking purchase of your hair, pulling at it just enough that you felt a slight sting in your scalp. Your lips parted slightly, a moan almost attempting to escape.

"Let me go, and don't call me that." You tried wiggling out of his hold, to push him off you, but he only tightened his grip.

"Call you what? Sugartits? Aww, but you used to love it."

Purring like a cat, you felt the smell of cigarettes and cinders invading your nostrils, bringing back vivid memories of the many times he used you hold you down to smooth-talk his way out of trouble, hold you down and fuck you senseless until you forgot whatever it was that you were mad about.

The thought alone frightened you to the bone, the realization of the sort of memories Touya was pulling out of you so effortlessly. The heat enveloping your body felt like it was burning you, threatening to cremate you with his quirk. It was nothing like Natsuo's cold touch and you hated it.

You couldn't let him keep holding you like that, it was wrong, it was dangerous, and gathering all your strength, you placed your hands on his chest to get him off. It didn't work, he only laughed at your attempt.

"Come on, do you really hate me that much? I just want to talk, honest. Don't you want to talk this out?" Looking up at him, the expression you saw was serious, soft, something you had only seen back when you were with him a few times. Touya was dangling the hope for closure above your head like a dog's treat, and you took the bait.

"What is there to talk about? You dumped me after fucking me for months, just to chase more tail." You a soft murmur from your lips, resignation. You felt his chest heave with a satisfied huff.

"Well yeah, but I tried to call you, you changed your number."

"Because I knew you just wanted to hook up."

"Well, you got me there." He chuckled, completely unashamed and it didn't even begin to surprise you.

"I did really like you back then, you know? And you broke my fucking heart." It was useless to tell him that, and yet you did.

"I liked you too, but you know that I'm a bastard baby, it's just my nature."

You frowned, there was no comfort in his words or even a sense of guilt from him, just the factual reality of things. You had been an idiot for getting involved with him, but it wasn't like you hadn't known that from the start. It still upset you, but the more you thought about it, the more you felt it was necessary to just let it be if you ever hoped to survive the night.

"I don't care what you do, in fact I'd rather we both forget anything ever happened. Just...don't ruin this for me." The plea in your voice was genuine, a heartfelt request, lowered lashes as you looked down before biting your lip. "Don't tell Natsuo about this, please. That's all I ask."

Touya went stiff against you, a hum purring at the back of his throat almost as if he had found your words no short of fascinating. You looked upwards to meet his gaze, he seemed pensive, while your expression was surprised.

"You really love him, huh? Lucky him, to think that used to be me." He chuckled, rolling his shoulders with a sense of light-hearted acceptance, the amusement had returned to that lazy grin. "I wasn't planning on ruining anything for my lil' bro, give me some credit. I just couldn't help teasing you a bit."

Admittedly you hadn't thought of it that way, that maybe even if Touya had no loyalty towards you, for his family he held enough of it to avoid crossing a line like that. It almost made you feel ashamed of yourself, how conceited it probably looked that you had assumed Touya really would care about fucking with you over his sibling's happiness.

For the first time that night, you felt hopeful, a sigh of relief that left your lips carried away all the weight you had on your shoulders.

"Well, then...thank you." A truthful feeling of gratitude. You even forced yourself to subtly smile at Touya, and you though for a second that his eyes softened at the sight. But then he just waved his hand at you dismissively.

"By the way, I wasn't joking earlier. The bathroom is that door over there. If you still want to use it."

You had almost forgotten about that, and while you had no need to go, part of you still needed some time alone to take in all that had happened in just one night so far.

There was slight hesitation, a feeling in your gut that told you not to. And you ignored it, like you ignored all the red flags in the past.

Nodding at Touya, you turned around and headed for the bathroom, but he called out to you again immediately.

"Wait, let me help you open it, that one door always gets stuck." Not even waiting for an answer he fumbled with the knob for a bit before it opened, Touya stepped to the side to let you in.

And then, just as you were crossing the doorframe, muttering a soft 'thanks', you were pushed inside the room by two large hands.

You yelped, stumbling over your feet and tripping onto a soft surface. The moonlight filtered through a narrow window enough to letting you see that you were not in a bathroom at all, but instead in what seemed to be a bedroom, may a guest room? You had no idea. The soft surface under your knees was definitely a futon at least. Confused and panicking you turned around to try getting up and rush out that room, just in time to see Touya walking in, closing the door and locking it behind him.

You felt the room's temperature go up.

"T-Touya? Touya!" You spoke once in confusion, then in anger. He tricked you, and you fell for it like and idiot, all over again. "Fuck you, I knew you were trying to pull something like this."

"You are really funny, sugartits. Seriously." Slowly, in long strides, he approached you. Completely ignoring your protests. "Saying that you love Natsuo with that innocent look on your face, really? What a comedian."

"What are you—?!"

Getting on his knees in from if you, Touya grabbed you by the jaw, squeezing your cheeks and roughly forcing you to look at him in the eye. That bruising touch you knew so well, it made your chest start tightening and face to burn red.

Looking at Touya in that dim light made you shiver, he had an horrifyingly wide smile, baring his teeth. You could feel the steam coming out of his nostrils, and for a moment you were afraid he'd actually set the place on fire.

"Do you think you can just go saying shit like that when I know just what a slut you are for my cock?"

He laughed mockingly, and yet the condescending tone dropping off his words made you realize it was an statement full of endearment.

"No, I'm not!" You struggled to pull away from him, clawing at his hand around your jaw, but he was just much stronger than you, always had been. "That was a long time ago, I was stupid. That wasn't real, what I have with Natsuo is real."

"So you say." Rolling his eyes, he scoffed. Touya brought his lips to your forehead, giving you a chaste kiss, the softness of his lips and the cold metal of his lip piercings was something you wished to have forgotten, a whine almost left your lips. "But I know you missed me."

"I did not. Let me go!"

"You're so cruel, sugartits. 'Cause, I did miss you lots, y'know?"

It shouldn't have, it really shouldn't, but that statement made you pause, freeze on the spot and look at him confused and surprised. A meek 'what?' came from your lips. Touya took advantage of your momentary lack of resistance to roughly push you backwards with enough force that you were falling onto your back over the futon.

"I'll tell you the truth, even after I kept fucking bitches for a while after our 'break up', I realized that none of them really compared to you." He explained slowly, drawling each word with a raspy voice, your heart beating loudly in your ways almost drowned the sound.

"Turns out no other pussy felt like yours, so good and tight, god...best one I've ever had. Oh, and no one else was quite as much of a whore either to be honest, I mean shit, we used to get all down and dirty, remember?"

He pulled out his phone out of his pocket, and started to browse through it. You should've taken that chance to try escape, or at least kick his stupid face, but your body wasn't moving. The shock of what he was saying, petrified you, as did what you imagined he was doing.

"But you disappeared. So I've only had these to jerk off now and then, trying to imagine your nice pussy around my cock." He showed you the screen of his phone, and it was what you had been fearing the most.

Pictures of you, old pictures that Touya had taken years ago during sex. There were many, too many, you felt the world collapsing around you, as if you hadn't been already laying down, you would've collapsed with it for sure.

"Never thought I would see you again, imagine my surprise when Natsuo just came home with my favorite cumdumpster as girlfriend."

"I'm not yours!!"

You refuted passionately, he could insult you all he wanted, call you all sort of names, but you were not going to let him claim you as his belonging.

You were Natsuo's, no one else's, you told Touya, you told yourself.

You were trying to get back up, but Touya was already crawling above you and shoving the screen of his phone in your face, showing off those lewd pictures of yourself.

Pictures of you doing all sort of nasty sexual things with Touya.

"I wonder if my lil' bro would be thinking the same as you if he saw these though. I mean, you two love eachother right? I guess he probably won't mind..."

"Alright I get it, what do you want from me?"

That quick temper of yours made him huff a laugh, something like fondness in it. Well, you weren't so stupid as to not realize what was happening, what was Touya getting at. Swallowing the lump in your throat you tried to keep yourself from shaking, but having Touya above you like that was leaving you short of breath, heart hammering in your chest.

"Let me fuck you." He said so casually, putting the phone back into his pocket without even breaking eye contact. "Here and now, let me fuck you real good one last time."

You breathed through your nostrils, slowly, taking in the situation you were in. Taking in his outrageous words that gave you chills.

"You can't be serious..."

"I am very serious, sugartits. I just wanna bury myself inside your pussy, for old times' sake. C'mon, you don't even care about my cock anymore, right? It shouldn't change anything to give me one last pity-fuck."

It was surreal, ridiculous, atrocious, the entire thing. Yet, what other option did you have? Even if you screamed for help, it would mean Natsuo would find out about this, find you like this. You parted your lips to ask hesitantly.

"Only once...no more than that, right? And then you delete those pictures, promise me. Dammit, promise me Touya!!"

"Yeah, yeah, geez. I promise, just once, and these pictures will be gone forever." He spoke seriously, a longing look in his eyes behind the cockiness. "So, whaddaya say?"

"Alright."

Those were the words that would seal the deal, and Touya didn't really need any more than that to get started. You felt his lips coming down to attack you with urgency, planting an open mouthed kiss on your shoulder while he nuzzled his nose into the juncture of your neck, inhaling your scent in a big indulgent sniff.

"Fuck, you still using that shampoo with the vanilla? Mmm, it was my favorite." He purred loudly, a satisfied grin and hot breath against your skin.

You gasped, unable to keep yourself from reacting to the stimulation, your body remembering it all over again, squirming underneath his frame as he pinned you down. That sound you made had his cock twitching inside his pants, member already growing hard and throbbing with rushing blood. He made sure to let you know by rutting himself against your clothed pussy, his hardness big enough to poke at your entrance through the layers of clothing. You bit your lips, so hard you could've drawn blood, just too keep yourself from moaning at the friction, your pussy already becoming slick and dampening your panties.

Then he was pulling back, earning a confused sound out of you, which then turned to a cry when a large hand crept up to the top of your dress, pulling it down to free your breasts and let them bounce bare for him. You tried to cover yourself on instinct, but Touya caught both of your wrists and held them down.

"God, I had missed these two. Now I remember why I started calling you sugartits." He chuckled lowly, one hand letting go of your wrist just to grope one of your breasts.

Fingers roughly sinking into the soft flesh before he drew his hand back, and slapped your breast, hard. It made a dry sound only matched by the cry you tried to muffle with your free hand. It stung, it hurt, you could swear that it burned. Then he slapped the other breasts as well, flesh jiggling as the skin turned red and raw, nipples become hard and stiff.

"Fuck, Touya...!!" You hissed through gritted teeth, and he only laughed. "D-Don't do that so suddenly."

"What? You used to love that, don't tell me you and Natsu don't do shit like this?" Of course you didn't. It was so different that being with Natsuo, the heat, the roughness, it was nothing like when he gently made love to you. This was not what you wanted, not anymore, and yet...you felt that familiar arousal in your gut, the tingly sensation in your core as more slickness dripped from your folds.

Touya was soon leaning over one of your tender breasts, mouth latching to the nipple and teeth scrapping the pebbled skin around the puffy areolae, his tongue lapping around the nipple, you could feel his tongue-piercing against the skin. He hollowed his cheeks as he sucked with fervor into his greedy mouth, drool and spit coating your chest.

"Hey wait!! Don't leave marks, don't leave m—oooh!!" He growled against your breast and you felt his teeth bitting at the flesh, your toes curled and you threw your head back with a pitiful whine. That definitely was going to leave a mark, he did it on purpose.

Just like he purposely lifted the hem of your dress and ripped your panties off you like a savage. You hated the memories it brought, of the countless pairs of panties you had lost this way when you were with him, Natsuo never did things like this.

Natsuo was not like this, he was gentle and sweet and—

The abrupt feeling of two fingers breaching through your outer pussy lips and into the heat of your core had your back arching, eyes wide open and tears pricking your eyes because the sudden intrusion. Dabi's long digits slid inside of your pulsating walls, the slippery flesh wrapping around them as you involuntarily clamped down. You moaned, barely muffling the sound using now both of your hands to cover your mouth in a desperate attempt to stop making noises.

"Fuck, baby you are still tight as shit." He spoke with his mouth still muffled against your breast, you could feel the shit-eating grin on his face. "I thought I'd have to prepare you a little more, but you are nice and wet, ready for my cock."

No, you weren't ready. You didn't want to be ready, you were doing this for you and Natsuo, and that was it. Shaking your head, Touya only snickered mockingly, as if he knew better, but he didn't. He absolutely didn't, whatever you two had was in the past, and you didn't want to be fucked by any other man than your boyfriend!!

"Just make it quick, please..."

"That depends on how good you squeeze me, baby."

Touya pulled back, hands unbuckling his belts and pulling down his pants. Your eyes almost bulging out of your head at the sight of his hard cock as it sprung free, bobbing against his abdomen with a pearly dollop of precum dribbling from the supple head, his shaft was as long and thick as you remembered, a pulsating vein on the underside that went from the head to the bushy white hair at his base.

You hated yourself for moaning at the sight, for being so weak. Touya somehow didn't make fun on you for that, he was too busy grabbing your ankles and pulling you down towards him, his own eyes fixated on the sight of your soaked pussy. The look of his eyes was ravenous and absolutely enthralled, his breath had quickened as he stared at the pretty slick flesh, bringing his cock to your puffy pussy lips, sandwiching his it in between them and sliding himself up and down, coating himself in your wetness.

It was driving you crazy with need, a maddening need that was awakening after years. And something you hated yourself for, feeling that fire in your loins in a way you never felt with Natsuo. You hated yourself for wanting to be fucked the way Touya used to fuck you.

"Oh, baby. I'm not even inside and you're already squirming." He grinned down at you, watching you through half-lidded eyes burning with lust.

"Shut up! Please just...just...ohh."

You didn't know what were you were begging for, but it didn't matter when you felt the tip of his cock positioned at your entrance, before the feeling of him entering you slowly, he wanted your every muscle to feel every part of him. A violent wave of pleasure rocked your body, Touya's cock stretched your walls like no one else could, even after years it was like your pussy had never forgotten the feeling and shape of him, welcoming him into your heat and betraying your need to cling to your convictions.

"Holy shit, oh fuck...this is what I was talking about. Best pussy I've ever had." You heard him pant and moan above you, his mouth gasping for air with eyes shut, like he was savoring the best feeling in the entire world. Your fleshy walls were sucking him in like crazy, he shuddered grabbing you by the hips with his large hands. "Hnng, so tight, fuck...it's like you're trying to rip my dick off. You sure Natsuo's been fucking you enough? Can't believe you're still so tight."

"S-Shut up!! Don't...bring him up now...please."

You couldn't stop wishing that Touya would just start moving already, fuck you already, in your heart you apologized to Natsuo over and over, you were doing it for your sakes, you were doing it for him.

"You are right, let's forget about him. Right now, this pussy belongs to me."

Touya pulled out his length until only the head was nudging at your heat, before he slammed his entire cock back in until he was balls deep inside, filling you up entirely. The head of his cock could almost hit the entrance of your cervix, god he was so big, it was different than Natsuo, he reached deeper than anyone you had ever had, you felt absolutely stuffed.

Gasping for air, you clung to his shoulders, trying to remember how to breath. But Touya didn't give you any chance to adjust before he began thrusting himself in and out your pussy, scrapping your walls with his cock following a brutal, bruising pace that had you pinned down against the futon as Touya jackhammered himself into you.

"T-Touya, fuck, fuck." It hurt, it really fucking hurt, and yet your body was craving that pain and heat you had been deprived from for so long, and you hated yourself so much for it, tears started to run down your cheeks.

Touya watched you with furrowed brows, licking his lips at the erotic sight of your bruised tits bouncing like crazy, but it wasn't until he noticed your tears that he felt himself swelling up inside you, cock harder than ever before. He leaned over you, face inches away from yours with his tongue out. He lapped at your salty tears, groaning in pleasure.

"Dabi, call me Dabi...for old times sake...oh fuck" He whispered against your skin, his hand leaving your hip to delve down towards your clit. He started playing with that little bundle of nerves, flickering it until you were just about to lose your mind, dizziness making you feel near to fainting.

"Dabi...!!"

You orgasm ripped through you violently, abruptly, toes curling and mind going black before you knew it, before you could even hope to do anything about it. Your walls were clamping around Touya and coating his cock in your release.

"Fuuuuuuck..." He groaned, you were so impossibly tight around him he almost came in that very moment.

You went limp, exhausted, but he kep fucking you until he reached his own release soon after. His cock throbbed, and you feel the warmth of his cum inside you as he filled you up in a sloppy creampie, and god he came a lot, jets of semen coated your insides until your womb was filled to the brim. You felt his cock softening inside, before he pulled out.

"That was great, babe. I knew you were the best." He sighed lightly and content, smiling shamelessly at the mess he made of your pussy, cum flooding out of your hole. "You didn't even tell me to pull out."

You tried to get up, but your body ached already, so you remained on your back with him still on top.

"The pictures...delete them."

"Nah, I don't think so."

The fact those words only shocked you halfway was perhaps sadder than him playing you for a fool again.

"You promised..." You said softly, weakly smacking Touya in the chest, barely phased anymore.

"I'm a bastard, sugartits. Can't lose my number one slut that easily, not when I finally found you again."

What an absolute douchebag.

—————

Natsuo knocked on the bathroom door, worriedly calling your name.

"Hey, [Name]? Are you okay? You've been gone for a bit."

After a moment, you replied, opening the door and exiting the bathroom. Seeing Natsuo's relieved smile made you so happy, and you smiled back.

"Don't tell your parents but I got lost, so it took me a bit to find the bathroom." You said with an embarrassed expression, voice to match, distress that was in a way still real.

"Oh no, I knew I should've accompanied you." Natsuo sighed, rubbing the back of his head sheepishly. "Sorry love, but didn't you see my brother? I told him to tell you where to go if he saw you."

You quickly shook your head. Hoping that the toilet paper you held between your legs would keep Touya's cum from spilling out.

—————

That night, when everyone had fallen asleep. You sneaked out of your room, careful not to wake up Natsuo. You planted a sweet, chaste kiss on his lips, gazed at him lovingly. You were doing it for you and Natsuo. You keep telling yourself.

Hearing a soft knocking sound, Touya smiled to himself. He walked to open the door of his bedroom to find you there, fingers lifting the hem of your dress to show your naked pussy underneath. Folds already glistening with the fluids of your arousal.

You heart was doing it for Natsuo.

But your body would always do it for Touya.

#dabi x reader #touya todoroki x reader #dabi thirst #tw manipulation #tw dubcon #tw gaslighting #tw cheating #this is the longest fic i've written so far and it wasn't intentional

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pascalpanic · 3 years

Text

Caffeine Rush: Chapter Four / Irish Coffee

Pairing: Javier Peña x f!Reader

W/C: 3k

Warnings: alcohol, language, sexual harassment, physical fighting, Javi is a legend for this chapter/next lmao, reader wears makeup and heels but clothing is otherwise not described

A/N: HI I’m gonna forgo summaries for this series from now on, if anyone has an issue with that pls lmk and we can go back to it, I’m just sick of using like the same summary lmao! Hope you guys like it, idk when chapter 5 will come but somewhat soon!

previous chapter || next chapter || masterlist

Irish coffee: a cocktail consisting of hot coffee, Irish whiskey, and sugar, stirred, and topped with cream. The coffee is drunk through the cream.

Four nights after you first kissed Javier, and now many kisses later, Javier insists he take you to the one place he knows in D.C.: a nice bar in the downtown area. You’d spent the days visiting museums and monuments, giving him a tour of the Georgetown campus too. He’d hum along to the radio in your shitty car while you drove place to place. He surprised you with how much modern music he knew.

If the past four days have been getting to know Javier, privately becoming acquainted with each other’s minds and lips, tonight is some kind of grand exposition. Your brief whirlwind of a romance has been contained to your coffee shop and small restaurants off the beaten path. Javier is a well-connected man; he’s sure to know people downtown. From what he’s explained to you, he’s somewhat of a powerhouse in the DEA. Everyone downtown knows a version of the man, who goes by Agent Peña, but all you know is your Javi, your Javi who kisses you goodnight after buying you cupcakes, who drinks your peppermint mochas like it’s the nectar of the gods.

So, it’s safe to say you’re nervous. If he’s bringing you somewhere where he will know people, which he offhandedly told you, you’re going to be the living legend’s date for the night. As you stare into the mirror, your brow furrows in concentration, drawing a line across your eyelid with a pencil of kohl, your phone rings on the vanity in front of you. It makes you jump and the eye pencil drag upwards across your eyelid- most definitely not where you intended it to go. “Fuck!” you shout in annoyance and toss the pencil down. When you pick up, your voice shows your frustration. “Hello?” You ask sharply.

“Hey, abejita,” a smooth voice answers: who else but Javier.

“Hi, Javi,” you sigh as you press the button, moving the call to the speakerphone. “You made me fuck up my eyeliner.”

“Sorry. Just calling to talk.”

His words make you smile and your ears feel warm as they rush with blood. You aren’t picking him up for another hour. “What, you couldn’t wait that long to talk?” You ask him, biting down on your painted lips with a smile.

“No. I’m bored and I miss you.” It’s true, he thinks to himself. He hasn’t seen you all day. After spending the last three days in nearly 24-hour contact, he misses the sound of your laughter and the way your soft lips feel pressed against his stubbled cheek.

“Well, I suppose it’s been…” you trail off as you calculate, “about 20 hours since I’ve seen you. I”m practically going through withdrawals,” you laugh, and it makes Javier’s chest warm to hear that beautiful sound, even through the tinny receiver of the hotel’s phone. “You know, if you have a cute nickname for me, I need to have something equally cute for you.”

“There’s a difference, abejita,” Javier teases, opening the hotel window to smoke out of. “You’re cute. I’m not.”

“Yes you are.”

“I am many things, little bee, but I am not cute,” Javier chuckles as he sticks the cigarette between his lips and lights it up.

“Well, I think you are,” you refute in a stubborn tone. “You bought me cupcakes on our first date. That’s cute. You come to my work and bring me treats and kiss me in front of my coworkers. That’s cute too.”

Javier shakes his head. Sure, the things could be classified as cute, he supposes, but they’re not the normal Javier. Sexy, rude, intelligent, any of those words could describe him. He’s a playboy, a heartbreaker, and all in all is, by principle, a lone wolf. Well, he was. He’s been chasing Escobar for years and years… and now he’s dead. Maybe he can allow himself to start anew, and this new beginning has to have you in it.

He takes a slow drag from the cigarette, getting lost in his own thoughts and forgetting to answer. The silence makes you suspicious. “Javi? Did I lose you?”

The words snap him back to reality. “No, I’m here. I’m sorry, I… zoned out there.”

“Good,” you smile as you wipe off the messy eyeliner and apply a new, perfectly winged layer of the dark makeup. “I suppose I’ll just have to see what comes. Nicknames have to be earned, not given. Did you ever have any nicknames when you were little?” You ask as you brush a sparkling powder over your eyes.

Javier thinks for a second, almost to the point where you have to ask again if he’s there. That seems to be Javier’s biggest flaw so far. “No, not really. Sometimes the other kids would call me Peñita. Didn’t like that one,” he chuckles, and you can hear air rush past the microphone as he exhales the smoke into the ever-darkening D.C. sky. “My mom had all kinds of names for me, but they were the things you’d call a little kid.”

You nod, then realize he can’t see you and you need to speak. “That’s cute. Tell me about your parents,” you ask him as you continue to brush various makeup products across your face.

Javier shakes his head. “That’s more of an over-drinks topic, I think.”

“When have you ever held back information from me?” You scoff lightly, as if you’ve known him a thousand years. It hits you as you say it, the whirlwind this entire thing has been. You’ve known Javier for five days, and he’s already everything to you. And he’s going back to Colombia in 3 weeks. It makes your heart sink in your chest, and anxiety creeps in, the realization that he might not be falling as quickly as you are. Maybe it’s time to pull back a little, you tell yourself. He won’t be here long.

“Ha,” he says dryly and takes another drag from his cigarette. “Well, I’m ready when you are, if you want to come get me a little earlier.”

His emotionless tone makes you panic. You wonder if you just went somewhere you shouldn’t have by asking about his parents, if you’ve just crossed some line you didn’t know existed. You desperately want to ask him, to reassure yourself and get rid of the worry slowly collecting in your gut, but you don’t. You can’t. You shouldn’t. “I’m still getting ready,” you tell him, and it’s truthful. “I’ll be there at 7, like we said. Is that alright?” you ask.

Javier blows a breath of smoke into the night, the cloud of smoke mingling with the heat puff of his breath. “Sounds good to me. I’ll leave you alone to get ready,” he tells you with a small smile.

“Alright. I’ll see you then. You’re wearing something nice, right?” You clarify one last time.

“Whatever you wear will be beautiful on you. Don’t worry about it.” Javier, ever the king of flattery, looks down and appraises his own outfit. “But yes, I’m wearing something nice.”

You smile at the reassurance, looking down at the swirling colors of your makeup palette. “Well, thank you. I’ll see you in a bit.” -

You have to say you’re surprised at the level of refinement of the hotel. You’d expected the DEA would’ve put Javier at some shitty little hotel, but it’s surprisingly nice. You remember a few days ago, the sheer terror masked behind a stoic face, but you chuckle as you consider that this famed agent had very few context clue skills. This hotel is nice, a couple of stars at least. Why would they put him here if they were firing him?

Javier stubs out his cigarette in an ashtray when he sees your car approaching, straightening his sport coat. You hold back a grin as he walks over, but the fighting ends when you see him smile as he opens the door and slides in.

“Hi,” you beam at him, and he leans across the center console, stealing a kiss.

“Hey.” He sneaks one more kiss, one that lasts a little longer and dares to use a bit of tongue. He only breaks away when you do with a laugh.

“My foot is on the brake right now; be careful but kiss me one more time,” you ask of him with a grin, and he happily complies, cupping your face and kissing you. When he breaks away, your eyes open slowly and you can’t hold in your happiness. “Alright, now we’re going. You’ll have to guide me,” you tell him, and he nods.

“Sure. You’re just going to go out of here and onto that street to the right,” he says and points the way for you.

Your car follows the path, nodding along to Javier’s instructions. “Jesus, that’s a fancy place. How much does that hotel cost a night?” You marvel as you stare at the gorgeous building in your rearview mirror.

Javier shrugs. “I’m about to find out. They’re only paying for a few nights for me, then I’m on my own. I’m guessing it isn’t cheap,” he chuckles as he looks over his shoulder. “Or I might switch hotels. Don’t know yet.”

Frowning, you take a turn he’d earlier instructed you to follow. The hotel fades from sight, the dark blue of the December night filling your rearview instead. “Well, I know of a place you could stay for way cheaper.”

“Oh yeah?” He asks, adjusting in his seat to face toward you more. “What is that, pretty thing?” He asks, a hand resting on your thigh.

“Stop,” you giggle and rest one hand atop of his. His fingers are much larger than yours, a fact that makes you shudder as his fingertips find bare skin there. “Pretty thing? That’s weak,” you tease, and Javier just rolls his eyes. “I was going to say you could stay with me, but now I’m not sure,” you say teasingly, eyes locked on the road and most certainly off of Javier.

His brow furrows. “Well, I can pay you then.”

You shake your head. “Javi. We’re dating… aren’t we?” You ask, the hesitancy creeping into your voice. Now that you say it aloud, you’re not entirely sure that you are. “I mean, I don’t know, I just kind of thought,” you stumble over your speech, word-vomiting out whatever you can to backtrack.

The man next to you tilts his head, but he nods. “I… I haven’t dated anyone in a long time,” he admits, his fingers starting to slowly grip your thigh rather than rest atop it. “Is this what dating is like to you?”

You nod too, knowing he’s watching you, staring down at the steering wheel. “I… yeah?”

A small smile cracks on his face, making the mustache there twitch softly. “Then I guess I’d say we’re dating. But that doesn’t matter, I don’t want to live in your place rent-free for three weeks.”

“It’s an extended vacation,” you chuckle and bring your hand back to the steering wheel to have two hands for a turn. “Don’t worry about it. I’d like having you around. We’ve already been together nonstop for a couple of days. What’s a little more?” You ask as you look over at him, seeing his eyes soften and his forehead relax from its tightened state. “And besides, any hotel is going to be painfully expensive right now. D.C. during the holidays makes the hotel rates skyrocket.”

He nods as you speak, processing the idea. “Well, do you have a guest room? I don’t want to invade your space, I can sleep on the couch if you don’t, or I can stay in a hotel.”

“Javier,” you chuckle, putting your own hand on his thigh to reassure him. “We’re not moving in together permanently. You’ll stay with me until you need to go back to Colombia, and that’s that.” Your mind has been made up. He can’t argue it, and he knows it from the firmness in your grip on his leg, in the way your body goes rigid as if the words are some formal deal that requires a handshake.

“How do you know I’m not some serial killer who does exactly this to lure you to your death?” Javier asks dryly as he looks over at you, lifting a hand to trace the side of your face slowly.

“Because you’re Javier Peña. Your name was in the newspaper next to Steve’s. You work for the DEA.”

“Some of the guys I work with could definitely be serial killers, that doesn’t discount anything,” Javier grumbles, which makes you laugh and makes him even grumpier.

“The fact that you said that to me in the first place is my proof, Javi,” you chuckle and pat his thigh softly. “I’m an excellent judge of character. I just graduated from 7 straight years of studying psychology. Remember that?” Javier’s quiet and you know you’ve won. “Then tonight we’ll get your stuff after dinner and get you settled in my place. How does that sound?”

He’s quiet again, studying your face and the way your cheeks move with your lips, the way your brows rise and fall when he’s being ridiculous. He’s just as trained as you are, with 10+ years on you to prove his competence. You like him. You might even love him already, he thinks to himself. Your pretty lips purse at his silence and he finally cracks. “That sounds great, abejita.” Javier leans across the console to kiss your cheek, which makes you shiver softly, like any touch from the man does. “Thank you.”

“Thank me by buying me some drinks, huh?” You tease, turning back to focus on the road.

The bar was nice. Really nice, you learned as you walked in. It projected the essence of Javier to you; naturally, you loved it from the moment you looked around. The room had a low ceiling and wood paneling around the walls, a floor that your short heels clacked upon as you walked to the only open stools- well, only one stool, you realized as you walked. Javier walked behind you, a hand on the small of your back, admiring your legs in the outfit you wore.

When you finally found the available spot, where you’re now sipping a drink, you’d found that there was only one stool.

“Do you want to go sit in the restaurant?” You asked Javier as you nodded with your head to the side of the establishment with tables and booths.

He shook his head and pulled out the stool. “You sit. I’ll stand.”

“Javi-”

“Just sit, abejita. I’ve been sitting all day. I can handle a little standing,” he chuckles and kisses your head, gesturing to the stool. When you sit, he smiles down at you and wraps his arms around you loosely from behind. You lean back against his strong chest.

Over the past few days, you and Javier have made infrequent contact, a hug in greeting or in goodbye and plenty of shared kisses. This, however, speaks directly to your touch-starved soul, the way his body practically encompasses you. He orders himself a whiskey and the drink you’d ordered on the first night you met him for you, then continues to stand there.

You crane your head around to look at him, smiling. “I love this place already,” you say, admiring the way you can hear over the hum of the other patrons and the quiet music playing. You’re much more accustomed to places your friends would drag you, where it was more for the cheap drinks than the atmosphere.

The crow’s feet by his eyes are more pronounced as he smiles at you, but he looks even younger as his lips curve up softly. “I’m glad you like it.”

“Shit, is that Peña?” A loud voice calls from somewhere else in the building, and Javier turns, his face falling flat then smiling as he sees the voice behind it.

“Be right back,” he murmurs and presses a kiss into the top of your head.

It’s someone he recognizes, that’s for sure, as the man and Javier wrap their arms around each other and firmly pat the other’s back. “No shit! When did you get back to D.C., man?” The other guy asks. “Escobar just died and they’re already sending you back?”

The bartender delivers your drink, and you turn your back to Javier, thanking them and sipping at your liquor. Over your shoulder, you can hear the man and Javier talk shop, about Colombia and their days as DEA trainees, about Escobar’s recent death and Javi’s recent promotion. You glance over your shoulder at him, smiling as he easily talks with the group. You’ve not had the privilege of seeing Javier with his friends- or what seem to be his friends- yet, and he seems fairly social but humble. You appreciate that.

The talking goes on for a while, and you sip at your drink and look around the bar, appreciating the wood that makes a nice noise as your fingernails tap against it rhythmically.

When your drink is about half-drained, the bartender sets another in front of you. It’s different from what you were drinking, a fluorescent neon color surely made by a mix of ridiculously fruity liqueurs. You look at the bartender with confusion and they nod to a man at the end of the bar. He’s not looking at you, which makes it all the easier to stare at the drink in confusion and disgust rather than drink it. His tie is absolutely egregious, boldly patterned in bright colors. There’s not an ounce of taste about this man.

The drink goes untouched, sitting in front of you as you study it. There seems to be layers, maybe, or maybe the mixed alcohols just congealed awkwardly. You sip your drink and then Javier’s whiskey, refusing to drink whatever fucking concotion sits in front of you.

Five or ten more minutes pass of Javier talking with his friends. You don’t mind- you know the feeling of catching up with people you haven’t seen in a long time. In that time, the drink remains untouched, and you ask the bartender for a refill of your go-to drink.

Not long after the second one arrives, you feel a hand on the curve of your back. You turn, hoping it’s Javier, and instead find it to be the man at the end of the bar who ordered you the drink: Tie Guy. Panic sets in immediately and you arch your back to dodge the hand, which only follows your spine. “Hey. Thought you’d like this drink. You tried it yet?” The man asks, voice clearly showing that he knows you haven’t.

“No,” you say with a swallow, turning away from him. “Not exactly my style.”

“I thought it was such a pretty drink for such a pretty thing.”

Pretty thing. When Javier called you that earlier, even though the name wasn’t one you liked, it was at least endearing. To hear it again, dripping with sleaze and ill intentions, you shiver and push it further away. “I’m sorry, sir, it’s not my type of drink. My boyfriend will be right back, and-” you try, hating the defense you try to pull.

“He drinks whiskey,” Tie Guy says and gestures to Javier’s ¾ full glass. “No fun. Boring. Too manly, pretentious. Real men can drink something fun like these and not need to worry about someone thinking they don’t have a set of balls,” he says and his fingers trace the rim of the martini glass the concoction sits in. Now you’re definitely not drinking it, now that he’s touched it.

“Please, I’m not interested,” you try, turning around to face the man that towers over your seated body. “I’d appreciate it if-”

“Hey,” a familiar voice- thank fuck, it’s Javier- calls from behind you. “Excuse me,” he says and pushes Tie Guy out of the way, his arm wrapping around you. It’s a relief, a grip meant entirely for comfort and not for the coercion the man across from you had tried. You melt into it instantly. “She said to back the fuck off, or could you not fucking tell?” He hisses at the man. Javier pulls away from you, stepping towards the man who instinctively steps back.

“Whiskey drinker,” the man snorts and rolls his eyes. “So manly, so over the top. Gotta let everyone know that you’re the alpha, the dominant male, huh?” He asks, getting in Javier’s face. He’s taller than your Javier, but lankier. The fact that Javier could take him crosses your mind, though you hope desperately that it doesn’t come to that.

“What I drink doesn’t fucking matter,” Javier says and shoves his chest. “What matters is that you’re fucking harassing my girlfriend. Back the fuck off,” he says and turns from the man, back to you, his hand on your upper arm. “You okay?” he asks quietly, and you respond with a nod and a forced, close-lipped smile.

“Yep, go ahead, go back to your little prude,” the man laughs drunkenly, his voice full of vitriol. “Oh, no, I bet she loves to act all shy, but then she’s a kinky little thing in bed, isn’t she?” He asks, taunting Javier. “Ties your ass up and whips you, with that sass. I wonder if she-”

The sentence isn’t finished. Javier’s fist flies through the air and connects with the man’s face, followed by a loud, ringing thud as the taller body hits the floor.

caffeine rush taglist:

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#javier peña #javier peña x reader #javier peña x you #javi peña x reader #javi peña #pedro pascal #jose pedro balmaceda pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal x reader #narcos fanfic #narcos fanfiction #narcos #caffeine rush

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puckinghell · 4 years

Text

Acts Of Service | Elias Pettersson

Summary: When people have different love languages, sometimes it’s hard to understand what the other is trying to say. 4 times Elias shows you he loves you, and the 1 time you tell him. Words: 7.5k (whoops) Note: This concept was very interesting to explore. Also yes, this entire thing was written because of that one picture of Elias in that blue sweater stepping out of the car like a fucking GQ model.

----

(Some time ago)

“Didn’t you say there’s an apartment free in your building?” Brock asked as soon as you answered the phone, forgoing the “hello”.

“Hello, Brock, my very good friend, how nice to talk to you! How are you doing?” you deadpanned.

At least he had the decency to sound ashamed. “Ah, yes, hi. Sorry. I’m just in a hurry and it’s important.”

You frowned. “Why? Are you looking to move?”

“No.” Brock laughed. “Stetch would kill me. No, it’s about the rookie. Petey? I told you about him. Swedish, quiet, best fucking hands in the league.”

Yes. Brock had told you about the rookie, although you still thought it dumb to call him that. Brock was basically still a rookie himself.

“What does that have to do with my apartment building?”

“He said no to having a billet family but everyone on the team thinks it’d be good for him to have someone to kinda look out for him a bit. He’s never been to Canada before this, you know, and he’s never lived on his own either. His English isn’t that great and everything is new for him. And since you’re such a caring, loving person, we thought…”

“You thought I could babysit him?” you finished for Brock.

“It’s not babysitting. Just, being friendly if he needs anything. Obviously we’re there for that too, but it’d be nice to have you so close by.”

Close by would be an understatement: the free apartment was across the hall from yours.

You weren’t sure if this sounded like something that you would necessarily want to do, but you did feel a bit sorry for Elias: you’d met him at a team thing earlier that week and he’d looked completely lost in the midst of all the Canadian hockey slang that you barely managed to follow, even after having been friends with Brock for years. He mostly kept to Eagle, spoke in Swedish, and his eyes flickered nervously across the room whenever anyone else approached him.

“Fine,” you sighed, “I’ll talk to my landlord. But you owe me, Blondie.”

Brock was happy enough that he didn’t even call you out on the nickname.

“Have I told you lately how much of a lifesaver you are?” You lean across your desk, resting your chin in your hands. Elias looks mildly amused as he hands you the papers.

“Nearly every day,” he says, “but then I save your life every day, so that seems fair.”

You grab the papers from his hands.

“You’re a lifesaver and the love of my life, Petey.”

You think back to when Elias just moved into your apartment building, only because Brock thought he needed someone to look after him. You could laugh, now, thinking about how wrong he’d been.

Elias is the most self-sufficient, independent person you know. You don’t think he’s ever needed anything from anyone. Like in hockey, where he can make the play and score the goal all at the same time, Elias has his life together.

Unlike you.

Despite the fact that Elias hadn’t needed much help from you, you had become very fast friends. His quick witted sarcasm always managed to make you laugh and he liked how upfront and honest you were with him about things. It was easy, too, to spend time together. With him living just across the hall, you found yourself wandering to his apartment whenever you were bored, and he showed up at yours often when he didn’t feel like cooking.

Just because he could cook, didn’t mean he always wanted to.

And ever since the two of you had become friends, Elias had your back. When you needed someone to water your plants, or feed your cat Puck – Brock had named him – or, apparently, bring you the important work papers that you forgot at home after having worked on them all weekend.

You groan as you flick through the papers. “I thought I was going to die. Without these I can’t finish my presentation.”

“When is it?” Elias asks, eyes searching behind you. You know he’s looking out for your asshole of a boss, who will use any excuse to yell at you, especially the unannounced visit of a friend.

“Tomorrow. I got all the content in these papers here, but I still have to make the PowerPoint.” You sigh. “It’s still so much work.”

“Oh.” Elias’ face lights up. “Almost forgot. Brought you this.” Triumphantly, he reaches down and comes up with a paper bag from your favorite coffee shop.

The words fall off your lips in a gasp. “You didn’t!”

“Strawberry scone and a large caramel macchiato with soy milk.” Elias grins. “I also got you a chocolate chip cookie for later.”

“Marry me,” you proclaim, as you make grabby hands for the bag. The coffee is precisely what you need and your mouth is already watering at the idea of the food.

“Get me a ring, then,” Elias jokes, as he starts getting up from the chair.

Something tightens in your stomach, so you quickly take a bite of the scone: anything to push those feelings to the side. It works a little, and at the very least it tastes amazing.

You’re just friends. If you were gonna be anything more, Elias would’ve made a move already. Or, if you’d been brave enough, you would’ve: but he’s never said anything to make you think he’s interested and quite frankly, you’re not that brave.

“Thank you,” you say, mouth still full of scone, and Elias wrinkles his nose at that as you knew he would.

“I’m going to the store now,” he says, “anything you want me to pick up for you?”

“Wine?” you ask, hopeful. “I’m gonna need it after today.”

Elias rolls his eyes at you, but when you come home after the most grueling day at work there’s a bottle of rosé sitting in your fridge, next to a bag full of your favorite Thai take out food.

Love you, you quickly text Elias, even though you know he can’t answer because the game is about to start.

You take some time showering and putting on comfortable clothes, then situate yourself on the couch and put on the game. It has already begun, and you know it’s not gonna be an easy one, against the Bruins.

It’s not until the first intermission, when you check your phone, that you see there’s a reply from Elias waiting for you.

It’s just a simple heart emoji, but it makes your heart race anyway.

“This is the worst thing that’s ever happened to me.”

“I can barely hear you.” Fiona’s tone is disapproving, and you pull your mouth away from where you’d pressed it into your arm to scream.

“I said, this is the worst thing that’s ever happened to me!”

She laughs. “It’s just a car, Y/N.”

You don’t necessarily like your job, but Fiona is one of the reasons you’re still putting up with it. She’s not just a colleague anymore, slowly turning into a friend and someone you confide into about everything – even about your Elias problem – and you love her, but sometimes you could murder her.

“It’s not just a car,” you bite. “It’s my only mode of transportation, because you know how much I hate taking the bus, and it’s broken, and I probably can’t even afford to get it fixed. And now I have to walk home, and it’s raining.”

“Well, when you put it like that,” Fiona admits.

After a long day at work, you couldn’t wait to get home and watch The Bachelor until you fell asleep, your cat in your lap. However, when you finally got away from the office and stepped into your car, it was clear the universe had different plans.

It didn’t start.

After trying approximately 15 times, you’d screamed, nearly cried, hit the steering wheel, and then went back inside to scream and cry a little more at Fiona’s desk.

“I just wanna go home, Fi.” You know you sound miserable, but you honestly can’t help it. Taking the bus always heightens your anxiety, so you avoid it at all costs: however, walking home in this pouring rain doesn’t seem like much fun either.

And Fiona can’t even bring you home, because she takes the bus to work like a normal person.

“There’s a simple solution to this, you know,” Fiona says. She starts to organize the papers on her desk, a clear sign that she’s getting ready to leave the office as well. “You could just call…”

“No,” you interrupt her, knowing exactly where she’s going with this. “I can’t call Elias. He’s got the boys over today and I won’t interrupt his fun with my misery. Besides, he does too much for me already, I can’t ask him for more.”

“Right,” Fiona drawls, “but when he hears that you were stuck here and didn’t call him…”

She doesn’t finish her sentence, but she doesn’t have to.

Elias would be furious.

One time, you were on a night out when you got a little too tipsy and didn’t realize your phone had died. By the time you noticed, all your friends had already jumped in their respective Ubers, but you had been too busy chatting with some girl you didn’t know to order yours, and now you couldn’t because you didn’t have a phone.

You knew you could’ve asked any random person to order you an Uber, or at least to borrow their phone to call Elias – it’s not like you didn’t know his number by heart – but that felt like too much. It had been 3 am and he had a game the next day, so you decided to walk home.

When he found out the next day, he got so mad he didn’t talk to you for 4 days. Eventually, you couldn’t take it anymore and just sat on his couch pouting at him until he spoke to you again.

“Something could’ve happened,” he’d muttered, explaining to you why he got mad in the first place. “And I’m your best friend, and you should know me enough to know that I would much rather you wake me up than you walk home alone.”

You did know that, and he was your best friend, and you’d promised him you’d never do it again.

It’s only that promise, that causes you to reach for your phone.

“I’m texting him, but if he’s busy, I’m walking,” you tell Fiona stubbornly. She ignores you, which is probably fair enough.

Hey, you busy right now? Are the guys still there?

The answer comes right away. What’s wrong?

Damn, he knows you too well. You quickly explain the situation and before you know it, Elias is on his way to come get you, and Fiona is bidding you goodbye after you promise her you’re fine on your own for the twenty minutes it’s gonna take Elias to get there.

You’re just checking your email on your phone when you hear the bell at the front door.

“I’m coming!” you call out. You hurry to grab your bags and then walk quickly to the door, where Elias is standing with his car keys between his fingers.

“So Bella finally gave up, huh?” he asks, a sly little smirk on his face. He always teases you with the fact that you named your car.

“Yes, and I know you told me,” you sigh, and it’s clear that he immediately – and correctly – reads your mood.

Without a word, he opens his arms, and you gratefully fall into them, hugging him tightly to your body. There’s very little in the world that brings you more comfort than one of Elias’ hugs: although being on Elias’ couch wearing one of his old hoodies watching some stupid reality show might come close.

“Let’s go home,” Elias finally mumbles, and he holds out an umbrella when he lets you go.

It’s raining really hard, and you know he has to park his car a little bit away because there’s no parking in front of your office, so you take it.

“You could’ve just called, I would’ve ran out,” you tell him sternly, but he shrugs.

“But then how would you have gotten the umbrella?”

You would tell him you’re not made of sugar, but as soon as you step outside the rain clatters loudly against the fabric of the umbrella and you realize you would’ve really, really hated to not have it, so you stay quiet.

Instead, you walk after him as he runs to his car and opens the passenger door for you. It’s still running, and the heater is on: only then do you realize you’re quite cold.

This morning they said it would be nice outside, so you didn’t bother to take a coat.

It’s quiet in the car for a while, but it’s not uncomfortable. It’s the silence that only comes when two people understand each other, and combined with the soft music that is playing on the radio it lulls you into a false sense of comfort.

Until you realize something.

“Oh God,” you groan, “I’m gonna have to call someone to tow Bella to a mechanic.”

Elias raises an eyebrow. “Well, you could just leave her there.”

Normally you would’ve at least playfully punched his arm for the sarcastic tone in his voice, but right now you’re too busy freaking out.

“And how am I gonna get to work tomorrow? Don’t you dare say you’ll bring me cause I know you’ve got morning practice and it’s super out of your way. Fuck, why did this have to happen to me?”

You let your head fall against the window. The glass is cold against your cheek and it’s enough to stop the spiraling in your brain at least for a second.

“Hey.” Elias’ voice has lost all sarcastic edge. It’s gentle now, and he’s speaking low as if not to startle you. “Don’t worry about it, okay? I’ll call the tow truck and the mechanic and get your car fixed. And Brock lives close enough that he can take me to and from practice and you can just take my car to work.”

It’s… a reasonable solution, but once again something that Elias has to go out of his way for, even just a little bit, and you feel something warm bloom inside your chest.

“Okay,” you answer, the stress already ebbing away. “Thank you. You’re the best.” You reach out and place your hand on his knee, squeezing slightly. “Seriously. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Elias mumbles something incoherent. You think you see some color on his cheeks, but surely that’s just because the heater is on, because there’s no way he’s blushing over something you said.

You turn off the heater, and let your thoughts wander as Elias drives you home.

Traveling is fun, but traveling for work is instantly a lot less fun. You really don’t know how Elias does it.

You’re feeling run down and jetlagged when you come back from your work trip, which is ridiculous cause you flew to Toronto, not to freaking Europe. But it’s late at night and the three days you were away were so busy you can barely remember sleeping at all.

Fiona slept on the plane, so she looks a little more alive than you when your feet touch the ground at Vancouver airport.

“Is Elias coming to pick you up?” Fiona asks, as you’re both walking through the gate.

You shake your head. “I’m sure he would’ve insisted if he could, but he’s in California right now. They played the Kings tonight and they’re playing the Sharks the day after tomorrow.”

“I wish I was in California,” Fiona says wistfully. It’s cold and wet in Vancouver and it wasn’t much better in Toronto. The tiredness doesn’t help: it feels as if the cold of the night is slowly creeping into your bones.

“Come on then, I’ll drop you off.” You thank Fiona and follow her to her car. Normally you wouldn’t have minded taking an Uber, but right now you just wanna get to bed as soon as possible.

“If I fall asleep, just let me sleep here,” you mumble, resting your head back against the head rest. Fiona laughs as she starts the car.

“No way, you’ll freeze to death.” She squints outside. “Do you think it’s gonna rain?”

“It always rains,” you say, despite the fact that it’s not raining at the moment.

Fiona turns onto the highway. “So, are you finally gonna put up that bookcase you bought?”

Involuntarily, you groan. “Stop, don’t remind me.”

Your old bookcase is big and ugly, and it has been a thorn in your eye ever since you moved in. The person that lived there before you left it there, and you only kept it because you couldn’t really afford not to.

Four weeks ago, you finally allowed yourself to buy a new, prettier bookcase.

But…

“It’s just so big,” you whine, repeating the excuses you’ve been giving Elias every single time he raises a judgmental eyebrow at the old bookcase still standing in your living room. “It’s gonna take forever to take it apart and then it’s gonna take me even longer to somehow get it all downstairs and get rid of it.”

“And then you have to build the new one,” Fiona nods understandingly. “And you’re not good with furniture.”

“Hey,” you protest, but it’s weak. You’re not good with furniture, which was proven when you tried to help Fiona move in and didn’t manage to help her put together anything at all. Instead she ended up with a table with three legs.

You even tried to read the manual, but it’s just not your forte.

“I’ll do it,” you add, “I promise you I will. Just, maybe not this weekend…”

Fiona laughs, but she doesn’t call you out on the fact that it probably won’t happen during the week either.

Finally, you arrive at your building. You can’t wait to go to bed, and you thank Fiona multiple times before dragging your luggage upstairs. When you open the door to your apartment, Puck comes running up to you, meowing and weaving between your legs.

“Don’t be dramatic,” you tell the cat sternly. “Petey sent me many pictures of you sleeping in his lap and I know he feeds you chicken when he thinks I won’t notice, so you got spoiled this week.”

You lovingly scratch Puck’s ears, before flicking on the light and kicking the door behind you in the lock.

Instantly, you notice the difference.

Your apartment isn’t big: real estate in Vancouver isn’t cheap and your job isn’t great. You got this place mostly for the location, and you like the big windows in the apartment and how it manages to get in light even during the darkest of winter days.

One corner of your living room, however, was always darker than the others. The bookcase took away the entirety of the white wall, and it created a dim lit, sad looking corner.

Now, it’s open and bright, as your new bookcase stands proudly in its place.

There’s only one person who would’ve done that.

The phone rings a few times, but you know the Kings game ended a while ago so you let it ring. After a while, Elias picks up.

“Sorry for the background noise,” is the first thing he says. “We’re on the plane. Taking off in a few minutes, probably.”

In the background, you hear some yelling. Probably Jake.

“You put up my bookcase,” you blurt out, ignoring Elias’ statement. “You put it up and all the books are in it and the other one is gone.”

Elias sounds a little smug when he answers. “Well, it’s not like you were ever gonna do it.”

“Thank you.” To your own horror, you can feel tears burning behind your eyes. “Elias, seriously…”

“It’s nothing.” You can hear Elias’ smile even over the phone: you know everyone always makes fun of his deadpan tone when he talks to media but with his friends, his voice always betrays everything he’s feeling. “I know you were worried about it, and I know how much you hated that old one.” He laughs. “I get why now, by the way. It took me and Brock like four hours to get that thing out.”

“Brock helped too?”

“He did.” Elias is silent for a while, but in the background you hear another voice. “Brock says to tell you that I forced him. But that’s not entirely true.”

Entirely. You know Elias definitely did force him.

“Tell him thank you too.”

“He says you’re welcome,” Elias says, quick enough that it makes you think Brock didn’t say that at all. “We’re about to take off so I have to put my phone on airplane mode. But call me tomorrow okay? I wanna hear about your work trip.”

“Okay.” For some reason, you can still feel the lump in your throat. You didn’t notice it momentarily, while you were focused on Elias’ and Brock’s bickering, but now it’s back, and with a vengeance.

Fuck. You just…

“I miss you.” You blurt it out before you can stop yourself and if anyone would ask, you would blame the exhaustion and the fact that Elias can’t see how wet your eyes are over the phone.

“I’ll be back soon,” he answers softly, and his voice is gentle in a way that makes you think he knows about the tears, anyway. “And when I am, we’re gonna take a whole night to eat food and stare at that bookcase, because it needs to be appreciated after the effort I had to put in to build it.”

You laugh before quietly saying goodbye to Elias and hanging up the phone.

In the kitchen, Puck sits in front of the fridge. When you open it there’s a pan with chicken.

For Puck the note next to it says, and you send Elias a picture of Puck with his chicken.

“He spoils you,” you tell your cat. You decide to ignore the fact that he kinda spoils you, too.

When you open the door to your apartment, you’re met with the smell of garlic.

After yet another shitty day at work, you can already feel the lump in your throat building again. You didn’t even tell him, this time. In fact, you carefully avoided his texts because you knew he’d clock that something was wrong.

Fuck. That’s probably where you went wrong in the first place; usually you never ignored Elias’ texts.

“Hello?” you call out into your own apartment.

There’s soft music playing and there’s light coming from the living room, but the amazing smell that tickles your senses is clearly coming from the kitchen, so that’s where you go.

Elias is standing at your kitchen counter, chopping a carrot.

��Hey,” he greets, smiling your way. “I’m making dinner.”

It’s almost too much, how domestic it looks. And how right: like he belongs there in your space, waiting for you to come home.

Suddenly there’s the overwhelming urge to go towards him, so you do. His arm immediately lifts, creating space for you in the crook of his body, and you slip under his arm easily.

“How did you know?” you mumble into the fabric of his worn Canucks hoodie. It smells like him, a scent that reminds you of home as much as your mother’s signature dish.

“You didn’t answer my texts,” Elias hums. His arm tightens around your body. “So I figured you could use some good food and a bath.” His head motions towards the general direction of the bathroom. “I’m running it as we speak.”

God. You love him.

It hits you, then. You knew you had a crush on him, knew you wanted to kiss him and hold his hand and feel his hands on you. But it’s more than that, now.

It’s the realization that you want to share everything with him. The ups and the downs. The bad nights and the bright mornings. You want him in your kitchen, but more than that, you want it to be his kitchen, too.

Fuck. You’re so royally screwed.

Because he does this, and he does so much for you, but he’s never said anything, anything at all, to indicate that he wants that. Or has even considered it, thought about it.

Maybe it’s never even crossed his mind. Maybe he takes care of you like he would take care of a sister.

“Hey.” Elias’ voice is gentle as it pulls you out of your thoughts, back down to earth. “You’re shaking. Go take a bath, and I’ll finish dinner, and then we’ll watch How I Met Your Mother. I wanted to watch the next episode but I waited for you.” His grin is a little lopsided. “Isn’t that chivalrous of me?”

It is, and normally you would tease him for it, but you can’t really think or speak, so you just nod.

“There’s wine in the fridge, if you want a glass,” Elias says. He holds out a wine glass, already waiting for you on the counter.

And who cares that it’s only a Tuesday: you deserve it, damn it, so you open the fridge to find the wine.

You’re met with more than just that.

“You bought groceries?” you ask, your eyes traveling through your fridge. You hadn’t gone grocery shopping in like a week, and when you left for work this morning the fridge was basically empty. Now it’s so full you wonder how you’re gonna close the door.

“How else was I gonna cook anything? You only had cat food left,” Elias tuts. You’re not surprised to find Puck at Elias’ feet, waiting for him to inevitably slip him some human food.

“Did you get…”

“Your coconut yoghurt? Yes.”

He did, and he got basically all your staples, and nothing you wouldn’t buy yourself.

“Honestly,” you say, as you finally reach for the bottle and pull your head out of the fridge. “I don’t know what to say, Petey. Thank you. I had such a sucky day and now it’s already endlessly better.”

This time you know you’re not imagining the flush on Elias’ cheeks.

“It’s fine,” he says. “You should go take that bath before it goes cold.”

You want to say more: to tell him time and time again how amazing he is, how much he means to you, how thankful you are. But you know once you start, you can’t be trusted to not say the one thing you don’t think he wants to hear.

So you say nothing, and simply go to take your bath.

But you think about it.

You think about it all throughout Christmas, where you don’t see Elias at all. You think about it during NYE, when you get a drunk SnapChat from Elias with his brother, right at midnight.

At least, you figure, he’s not kissing any girls.

You’re not kissing any boys, either. You’re at a NYE party with Fiona and it’s fun, it is, but it’s not the same as it would be if Elias wasn’t all the way in Sweden.

You miss him like a limb, and you know it’s not fair because he rarely gets time to go home to Sweden and he deserves that time with his family, but you can’t say you didn’t wish his time off ended already.

When it finally does, it’s not Elias you see first. Troy is throwing a late New Years party, just to welcome everyone back to Vancouver as they get ready to start the season back up, and when you arrive at his house it’s early enough in the evening that there’s only a handful of people there.

“Y/N!” Brock calls out, opening his arms to give you a big hug as you enter. “Missed you!”

You laugh. “Get off of me, you giant. I’m gonna drop the wine.”

“Not the wine,” Troy says dramatically, tearing it out of your hands. His eyes are sparkling when he thanks and hugs you, and then Brock is ushering you into the living room, where Jake is talking with Quinn.

Or talking at Quinn. To be honest, you never really know when Quinn is paying attention.

“Y/N!” Jake exclaims, much like Brock had. “I’m glad you’re here, we need your input on something.”

“Okay?” you ask, curiosity instantly taking over. Whenever Jake and Brock get together, it promises to be an interesting evening.

“We’re trying to decide Brock’s love language.”

It’s sudden enough that you laugh. “His what?”

“Love language,” Jake explains. “Like, how he shows people he loves them. He says it’s quality time, but I think it could be physical touch. He’s always touching people.”

“Jake is deflecting because his love language is physical touch,” Brock scowls. “I think I know my own love language, Tuna.”

“Hold on.” Unfortunately, you have to press the pause button on their discussion. “What options do we have?”

You’ve got no idea where they got this from, but it doesn’t really matter. You’re always down to share your opinion on stupid stuff with your favorite boys.

“There’s gifts, quality time, physical touch, words of affirmation, and…” Brock pauses, and you can nearly see the wheels in his head turning.

“Acts of service,” Quinn offers, which proves that he was actually paying attention.

“Mine is physical touch,” Jake says determinedly. “When I care about someone, I always wanna be touching them, and when I’m in love with someone that’s like twenty times worse.”

“Poor girl,” Quinn mutters, and the conversation gets paused in order for Jake to put Quinn in a headlock.

“I think yours is quality time, actually,” you tell Brock when Jake is done murdering the rookie. “Your ex was always on her phone during your date nights and I remember it drove you crazy.”

“See,” Brock says proudly. “Quality time baby. If I’m there I’m there.”

“What about yours, Huggy?” Jake asks. “Physical touch would make sense, since you’re called Huggy.”

“I’m not called Huggy,” Quinn deadpans. His face is devoid of any emotion, but you know him well enough to recognize the mischievous twinkle in his eyes. He reminds you of Elias, when he does that. “And if we were going by nicknames your love language would be fishing.”

Everyone cracks up on that, and then the doorbell rings and Bo arrives.

The topic gets put on hold, then, because Bo is instantly talking about Gunnar’s first Christmas and Brock is talking about becoming an uncle again and you feel warm and happy on the couch with your wine, squeezed between Brock and Troy.

Until, a little later, you realize someone is missing.

“Where’s Petey?” you ask Troy. “Isn’t he coming?”

Troy shrugs. “Should do. But you never know with Pete.”

It’s not entirely true: if Elias promises he’ll be there, he will be there. But, to be fair, he usually doesn’t promise that to anyone but you, and you hadn’t asked him to come, this time.

You figured he just would.

“What about Petey’s love language?” Brock asks idly, not knowing he’s opening Pandora’s box for you. “Definitely not words of affirmation, huh.”

Troy laughs.

“Nah, Petey’s an acts of service guy. He’s always doing shit for Y/N.”

You would protest if you trusted your voice not to shake. As it is, you stay quiet and hope the flush on your cheeks gets mistaken for a wine flush, and not an Elias flush.

Brock brightens. “Oh, yeah! Getting her car fixed, making dinner, building her stupid bookshelf, feeding her cat… He is a typical acts of service guy.” He bumps against your shoulder playfully. “I hope you appreciate his showing of love, Y/N. He rarely does that shit for me.”

Troy snorts. “That’s cause he’s not in love with you, Boes.”

“He’s not in love with me either!” you squeak, unable to stay quiet any longer. You know if you don’t derail this trail of thought very soon, it’s gonna end badly for you.

Both Troy and Brock look unimpressed, at that statement.

“Yes, he is,” Brock says slowly, as if explaining something to an unruly child. “He drops whatever he has going on to do small things that make your life easier. That’s literally the same as him screaming I’m in love with you from the highest rooftop in Vancouver.”

“He’s not like you,” Troy continues, a little more gentle. “When people have different love languages, they don’t always understand what the other is trying to say. Your love language is words of affirmation. You’re always telling Petey how amazing he is. But he doesn’t see that as a declaration of love, or whatever. He thinks you tell everyone that they’re amazing.”

You do, to be fair, but not as often as you tell Elias. Because he’s…

Well. Amazing would be an understatement, actually. He’s everything to you.

Things are starting to make sense, like puzzle pieces fitting into place. Suddenly, you start wondering if there’s more to his acts of service than plain friendship, or him being a good guy.

It’s not like he does stuff like that for all his friends. He helps them out, sure, but he always goes above and beyond for you, usually not even needing to be asked.

But he’s not in love with you, surely? He hasn’t said anything…

But maybe words aren’t his thing. Not like they are yours: the way you can’t stop yourself from gushing into Elias’ ear even when you know you should stop.

What if Brock and Troy are right?

You don’t get much time to think it through, because that’s when Elias finally appears in Troy’s living room, looking endlessly cool in his blue sweater, wearing his glasses. He’s sending death glares at Jake, who wolf whistles from the corner, but then his eyes meet yours and they soften.

“Hi there,” he smiles, reaching out to you. You immediately jump up and launch yourself at him, any previous conversation about the two of you momentarily forgotten as you curl your body into his, his arms tightening around your waist.

“Missed you,” you hum into his shoulder, and you’re rewarded with a grin you can feel against the skin of your neck.

“Are you sure hers isn’t physical touch?” you hear Brock ponder, and you would flip him off if you could be bothered.

You can’t. All you can be bothered doing is plastering yourself to Elias’ side and not leaving him alone even for a second, the rest of the night.

It works at least for a while, until he asks: “Do you want another drink?”

“I’ll go with you,” you say, not willing to part with him yet, and you ignore the knowing look Brock shoots you as the two of you find your way to the kitchen.

Elias immediately goes for the wine, because he knows you better than anyone else.

“I asked my dad about the job,” Elias mentions casually, as if it’s not a big deal at all. “He thinks he can get you an interview.”

“Wait, what?”

Suddenly your heart is ticking in your throat. Before he left for Sweden, Elias had mentioned that his dad knows a guy who works for a similar company as you’re working for now: apart from the shitty boss you have or the ridiculous low salary you get paid. It’s your job, but better, and Elias promised you he’d get his dad to ask if there were any open positions.

There were. And you sent in your application not thinking there was gonna come much from it, but now…

Something warm washes through your chest, like your heart grew three sizes. Of course he asked, of course he made it happen. Looking out for you, always and at any time, from any distance.

“It’s not a done deal,” Elias warns, oblivious to your mental breakdown. “But he said he thinks they’ll like you and he’ll put in a good word for you.”

You squeal and throw yourself in his direction once again. Elias laughs as he catches you, fingers curling in your hair where your face is pressed against his chest.

“Thank you,” you mumble.

“It’s about time you get rid of that dumb job.” You can hear the frown in Elias’ voice. “They don’t take good care of you at all, it’s not good for you.” The distaste is obvious and it’s adorable. You pull away.

“I don’t need them to,” you say, carefully. You can still hear Brock’s words in your voice, and you figure it’s worth a try, probably. “Because you’re always there to take care of me.”

Elias’ cheeks darken substantially.

“I mean it when I say I don’t know what I’d do without you, Elias.”

“You’d be fine,” Elias waves away the compliment as you figured he would. But this time you’re not backing down.

“Maybe I would be. But I wouldn’t be as happy.”

They say when you really love a person, you’ve got to show them. But you’ve never really known how to do that, instead you always use your words to tell them. But it seems like Elias isn’t believing you, not even now.

And you’ve got to fix that.

It’s not until you’re in Elias’ car on the way back home that you bring it up again. The party wasn’t really the time and place, but the conversation with Brock and the guys has been nagging in the back of your mind since it happened.

If you didn’t realize Elias’ acts of service meant something, maybe he doesn’t realize your words of affirmation mean something. And even if it doesn’t mean he’s in love with you – you’re really not that sure about that – you need him to at least know how much you appreciate him.

“You know I’m always there for you, right?” you start, carefully breaking the silence in the car. Elias shoots you a glance from behind the steering wheel.

“What?”

“Like, even if I’m maybe not as good as you are at realizing what you need me to do, if there’s ever anything I can do to help make your life a little easier or better I wanna do it. I’d do anything for you.”

It’s too honest, probably, and too much all at the same time. But Elias doesn’t look that surprised. In fact, there’s a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“You make my life better by just being you, Y/N. You don’t have to do anything for me.”

Butterflies erupt in your stomach and you wonder how you’re gonna get through this conversation. But it’s one that needs to be held, so you press on.

“What is your love language, Elias?”

Now he frowns. “Have you been talking to Brock?”

Of course Brock talked to Elias before he talked to you. The traitor.

You decide to ignore that, for now. You’ll talk to Brock later.

“You know my love language is words of affirmation, right?”

Elias shrugs. “Brock did say that, but I didn’t know what you thought it was.”

“And yours is acts of service,” you hazard a guess. You keep your eyes firmly on Elias’ face, which is the only reason you catch the slight change in his expression.

Like a wall, crossing over his features. He’s trying to protect himself, although you have no idea why. Does he not get where you’re going with this?

“I can tune it down if you want me to,” he says, a little grumpily. He’s staring straight ahead at the road, stubbornly refusing to look your way.

And oh God, he’s truly not getting it, and this is going the exact opposite way you want it to go.

Troy did say that when people’s love languages don’t match, they don’t understand what the other is trying to say. But you honestly don’t know how you can make it any more clear to Elias.

Well, except…

“I love you,” you blurt out. “Like, in love with you love you.”

The words ring loudly in the quiet car. For a second, nothing about Elias’ expression, almost like he didn’t hear you. You can almost feel your heart sink into your stomach.

Then, he pulls over the car.

It comes to a stop at the side of the road, two wheels on the pavement and two still on the road. It is, objectively, not super safe, but it’s also 3am and there’s no other cars to be seen. Very carefully, without looking at you still, Elias turns on the hazard lights.

And then finally, finally, he turns to you and kisses you.

You weren’t expecting it but it doesn’t really matter: it’s like your heart and head both light on fire, and everything outside of the car simply disappears. It’s just you and Elias, and his lips on yours and his hands on your body.

It feels right. Like it was always meant to end up like this.

After what feels like ages, he pulls away. He’s smiling, and his eyes are bright blue in the dark car.

“I thought you said those kinda things to everyone,” he admits, quietly. His thumb is rubbing your side, his eyes fixed on that spot. Almost as if he can’t really believe he’s allowed to do that.

You don’t want him to ever do anything else.

“I thought you did those kinda things for everyone,” you shoot back.

Elias raises one eyebrow. “That bookcase weighed at least 300 pounds.”

You can’t help it: giggles are escaping your lips and suddenly you’re both laughing. The tension in the car dissipates instantly, and suddenly it’s just Elias again, your best friend.

Your best friend that you’re now allowed to kiss. So you lean in and press your lips against his again.

After all, kissing is a love language you think everyone understands.

(+2)

“I’m home!” Elias’ voice sounds through the empty apartment, and you immediately leave your spot behind the kitchen counter to run into the hallway.

With a squeal, you fly towards him, and he catches you easily as you knew he would.

“Hey, babe,” he laughs quietly, pressing a kiss into your hair before returning the hug fully. “Is that my sweater?”

“Maybe,” you admit, as Elias’ hands make their way under his own blue sweater, that you definitely steal from him most evenings. “Missed you. And I’m very proud of you.”

“I missed you too,” he answers. “Watched the game?”

“Obviously.” You roll your eyes, even though you know he can’t see it with your face still buried in his shoulder. “A hat trick, huh? I think that needs to be celebrated.”

“Oh?” Elias pulls away then, one eyebrow raised and a cheeky twinkle in his eyes.

“Not like that,” you scold him, lightly punching his arm. “Or, maybe like that. But first, I made Kalops.”

At the mention of his favorite Swedish food, Elias’ face lights up. A while ago, you asked his mom for her recipe and it’s one of the only Swedish dishes you can make, but you make it well.

“Also,” you continue, as you take his hand and start leading him towards the kitchen, so he can sit at the counter while you cook as he always does, “I called the electrician so the TV is already fixed. I know you could have done it, but I decided I’d much rather use that time to hang out with you. I took Puck to get his shots at the vet and I also used my free afternoon to take your car through the car wash.”

When you reach the kitchen, you twirl around towards Elias and his arms immediately circle around your waist.

“You didn’t have to do all that,” he mutters, taking the opportunity to kiss you once more. “But thank you. I love that you took the time to take care of that for me. And I love you.”

“Look at us,” you tease, lightly tugging at the ends of Elias’ hair. “Speaking each other’s love language like that.”

“Perfect couple,” Elias agrees, and you smile back at him.

Somehow, you and Elias managed to create a language of your own: one that you could speak with nobody else. But luckily, you don’t have to.

Cause he came home to your shared apartment like he always does, and well. That’s the biggest act of service he could do for you.

#elias pettersson #vancouver canucks #nhl fic #elias pettersson fic #elias petterson one shot #elias pettersson imagine #nhl writing

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qyllenhaal · 3 years

Text

God’s Face in the Fire || Part 2

Dark!Lee Bodecker x Dark!Reader

Summary: A wife who would do anything to give her husband the world, even if it means getting herself involved with his trouble.

Word Count: 10.3k

Chapter warnings: dark themes!!! contains mentions of murder, non-graphic death scenes, smut (loss of virginity in a flashback scene), manipulation, brief mention of sexual assaults, misogyny, uncomfortable situations. Please heed the warnings!!! 18+ only

A/N: It's been forever since I posted. The last two weeks have left me discombobulated that it was hard to find time to sit down to write and edit this, but I'm glad I got to it! The next part is going to be the last part but I have plans to do one-shots for this universe. I'm going to be posting a Senator!Chris fic tomorrow so stay tuned for that.

Enjoy!

"You remember when I took you out for milkshakes and you spilled yours all over me? You were wearing that exact same color," Lee said pointing at the dress she was pressing.

"All those years ago, and you still remember that?" Y/n wanted to drown in this tender moment she's having with her husband. Hearing him laugh, his stomach shifting, and his eyes wrinkling.

"How could I? Watching you get all flustered and cute really got me goin’. It's when I knew I was gonna marry ya."

The days have been incredibly warm and beautiful since Y/n had done what she did. It was cruel irony that she was enjoying another day while someone’s body was rotting. The softer moments of life were few and far between these days, but right now she’s offered her a wonderful distraction.

She had taken on more tasks than usual to distract herself from the intrusive thoughts she had. She even accepted a last minute invite to help put on an event at the local rental hall with some of the other mothers in town. It gave her an excuse to look nice and show herself off to anyone who had some doubts about Lee. Things were looking good for him, but there was always something to do to further rehabilitate his image. She always looked her best as the sheriff's wife. Keeping up the appearances exhausted her since they have become more frequent for her. However if she wanted the people to fawn over her lovely family, she had to show up. An arts and crafts event for the kids is also a good chance to get their daughter out of the house.

Teenage Y/n did not see herself becoming a housewife so young. It was unsavory to think about being a homemaker for one of the boys’ at school. She surmised that she would’ve stuck by her original plan if she had not been so lonely. All of Y/n's friends left within a year of graduating high school. She didn't have that many friends to begin with, but she thought that at least one would always be there for her. Rose went to college, and Barbara found a man to marry and moved to upstate New York. Only one stayed for some time, Judith, but she eventually left after having a shotgun wedding. It was selfish of her to think that someone would stay just because she got rejected from the only college she had applied to. Other people had lives and Y/n was just not at the center of them.

The absence of her friends made her pregnancy more lonely. Her baby shower consisted of her family, Lee’s sister, and his co-workers and their wives. None of the women seemed to be fond of Y/n. It always plagued her mind to know if they thought she was too young and stupid or if it was just something else

She found solace in some of the other mother's in town. When she began showing up around to volunteer at bake sales and food drives she expected them to look at her face and then down at her belly and reject her. She is younger than them and feared they'd find her naïve. She had kept to herself for so long that she thought they'd write her off as the sheriff's meek wife.

Y/n didn't get a chance to mingle with anyone prior to her marriage and Lee made it harder by insisting in little ways that she stay in the house. No one was at fault that Lee wanted to keep her to himself. It was possible he did it out of insecurity, but Y/n now speculates that it was because he didn’t want to hear or even see what he may have been doing.

One of the ladies who Y/n only knew by her dark hair and distinct, pointy nose joked that Lee had, "finally let Rapunzel out of the castle." When the other mothers joined into laughter, she felt small. It was only a harmless joke that was steeped in the truth. It took her persistence to no longer wanting to feel alone while being pregnant to get the women to warm up to her, and the did.

"I remember spilling the milkshake, but I was too embarrassed to remember anything else about that night," she admitted.

Lee remembers that night very well. He wishes that she didn't end the night so quickly because she ruined a pair of trousers that could easily be replaced. He had only bought them to impress her, but it didn't take much to get her to swoon over him. No other man was giving her the time of day.

"We should go out to that diner Friday night. Now that we have someone to watch the little one, we don't have to stop by your parents to drop her off anymore. I can just scoop you up and we can have a night together," Lee pressed himself into Y/n's backside. She giggled when his hands lightly danced against her ticklish sides.

Lee had also been aware of the slim moments of intimacy with his wife. He was serious about this race but he truly underestimated how much time and effort he'd have to put into this. But people really did love the old mayor. The only slight Lee had against him was his old age and how some believed that if he kept going then he might run into some health problems. The rumors about him becoming more and more forgetful were minute compared to the dark gossip swirling about Lee though. Some of the people in town would probably vote for a paper bag before Lee.

His biggest fear is that he loses the election and drives his wife away. He could lose the race, but if his wife somehow slipped away, taking their baby with her, he’d drink himself into a stupor. Lee tried his very best to hide his insecurities from her. When he worried, she worried too and it made it much harder for him to plan his way out of whatever hole he is in when he has a hysterical wife to deal with. That's why he'd rather not tell her anything.

Lee also wasn't the young man in his prime anymore, he believed that his good looks were fading, and he has gained a considerable amount of weight. The fear of Y/n just up and leaving him for someone younger than him and riding off to the city always plagued him. The birth of their daughter should've assuaged him, but his self-doubt always lingered like a cloud that made him stick to his vices.

"I've really missed ya honey...missed this body of yours."

Y/n flinched when his hands ran down the front of her body, over her stomach and then circling up back to her breast. Her body has changed considerably since giving birth and the hormonal imbalance left her feeling tired, sad, and alone. Her mother told her that all she had to do was look at her child and she'd feel better, but every time she looked at her little girl all she did was worry. Was she a good mom? Why was her daughter crying so much without much working? Was Lee staying at work for long hours to avoid the crying and her? Did he still find her attractive?

They’re both too busy thinking Lee's mayoral bid to realize they felt the exact same way as each other. If there was any other time that proved they were an extension of each other, it was now, but they were too blind to see it.

"Lee y-you're going to be late for work," her voice was weakened by his lips now nipping at her neck.

"Don't give a damn," he whispered against her skin, inhaling her familiar scent, "just wanna feel my wife."

Today, Y/n felt herself slipping back into her normal self and normal life. She melted into Lee, hoping that maybe they could have a moment to themselves, but they were interrupted by the phone ringing downstairs. Every early morning and late night phone call had her on edge. They never seemed to be about anything important but it hasn't failed yet to make her stomach churn.

Lee groaned and pulled away from her. She watched him disappear to go answer the phone.

It has been nearly two days and the only thing on her mind is what happened after she left that brothel. The anxiety made her feel sick. Hours later after it happened, around 2 a.m., she woke up and darted to the toilet. Lee kept asking her if she was pregnant as he held her hair back while her face was in the toilet. She dismissed his claims, knowing full and well that she was just sickened by her actions.

Lee had not mentioned a death or anything related to that brothel, so had he even been found? Was his death even reported? The girls who worked for him were probably too worried about their own arrest than the death of their abusive boss.

She wiped the look of worry off of her face when she heard his heavy footsteps coming back up the stairs.

"Who was it?"

"Your brother," his tone held disgust, "invited us to dinner on Sunday. He asked to speak to you but I told him you were still sleep."

"Lee!"

"I don't want to hear it," his voice boomed, much more dominant and rough than hers, "I ain't having dinner with him and I don't want to hear your mouth about it."

Y/n stayed silent and watched him grab the police hat resting on the dresser. She hated for him to leave on such a sour note, but she wouldn't dare say anything in fear she might make things worse.

He started towards the door of their bedroom before turning back to his wife, "Sandy supposed to stop by Saturday. I don't know why, so don't ask, but she claims she's comin'. Who knows if she'll stick to her word."

It’s like Lee did that on purpose, as some sort of sick payback for her brother calling. Y/n was not fond of Sandy and did not like to be around her for more than ten minutes. Sandy was a nice girl, a bit unsavory at times, but her husband Carl was a stain on her life. There was something about him that reminded her of the men her mother had warned her about when she was a young teenager; a man with a slick tongue and a creepy air around him. However, she found Carl much more sinister than that. The look in Carl's eyes when he looked at her and flashed her that unsettling smile was imprinted into her brain. They did not come around much, but when they did it was always a traumatic experience for Y/n.

Lee left the room before Y/n could respond. He knows how Y/n feels, but he can’t bring himself to care right now. She’s not going to protest against it because she knows better than that. He focused on the sound of soft babbling from his daughter as he walked into her room.

"Hey you," she looked up at him with her big eyes and her widening smile that made his heart swell, "you gonna be good for your mama? You've been on a mean streak lately and I'd hate to make good on my threat and put you in baby jail."

His daughter reached up and tried to grab at his face. Lee was clean-shaven now, but for the first few months of his daughter's life he had enough hair on his face for her to grab a hold of. It was funny to see how she still tried to grab at his non-existent hair, pinching his skin in the process.

"Miss the beard little lady? You're just like your mama," he kissed her forehead and felt a deep sense of guilt that he had to leave her to go to work. But everything he did was for her and if he believes that the long hours are going to pay off. All of his work is going to pay off when he wins that race.

The dress her daughter wore was blush to complement her mother's golden one. She looked around at every single building and person they passed as if it was her first time seeing it again. Her sense of wonder always made Y/n adore her even more. Y/n wondered what was going on in the little mind of her and what sense she made of the world.

She was never fussy when they were out, which was good for Y/n, but also good for the rehabilitation of Lee's image. He has such a good daughter and pretty wife, he must be doing something right. Every single person who stopped to say hi or coo at how cute her baby was, Y/n wondered if they have ever said something negative about Lee. Y/n never received weird stares or grimaces that would make her paranoid, but she still felt on edge. She always wanted to be on her best behavior, especially when Lee was not with her.

Y/n was forced to be her normal self; cheerful even though her mind was reeling over two nights ago, her sister-in-law, and what the conversation between Lee and her brother this morning may have sounded like. When one of the toddlers thrusted their drawing her face she feigned an excited smile. She hoped the mother's didn't notice her lackluster attitude.

"Y/n , can I speak with you?"

It was Sally's voice that called to her. She looked at the blonde woman with a bit of panic on her face. She thought that she was going to get chewed out by her, especially since she pulled her far away from the other children, and her daughter who was being held by one of the recently graduated girls.

"Is everything alright Sally?"

"I should be asking you that. Why am I hear things about Mrs. Blackwater sayin' she seen your Lee dumpin' bodies in the river behind her house?" At that moment Y/n could not hear her despite her lips still moving. Her blood ran cold at that last name being mentioned. It's been years, close to a decade, since she thought about that old woman, but the mere mention of her name brought Y/n back to a place she didn't want to be.

"I-I...I don't know what she's talking about-"

"My husband and I made a sizable donation to your husband's campaign, and it would be a shame to see him lose," the sugary voice and fake smile on Sally's face made Y/n's stomach ache. She didn't like how some of these women could be so fake because it always made her question if they really liked her or not. But Sally didn't care what Y/n would respond with, all she cared about was her and her husband's reputation, "you're not that much younger than me so you remember them days when that old bitch would be on her porch spewin’ whatever nonsense she could think if at any girl who walked on her sidewalk. No one likes Mrs. Blackwater, but don't think for a second they won't consider what she has to say about that husband of yours. I've heard too many whispers about him and I don't like it. I'll pull my endorsements if you don't fix this shit."

Was murdering one person not enough to save her husband from losing this race? The brothel owner was one person, someone who would not be missed by many people, but could she do something about Mrs. Blackwater?

'That's not right, that's not right.'

No matter how much she tried to shake that evil idea off, it kept creeping into her mind. Murder was the unlikely tool she had in her arsenal all along. It was morally wrong to kill someone, but her victim and the potential one had not been nice people. Mrs. Blackwater's stain on this Earth paled in comparison to Reed's, but that woman made her blood run much colder than the brothel owner.

It was so ironic that Mr. Blackwater was a beloved man in town because no one could stand his wife. They knew not to cross her path and that pies and home cooked meals would not abate her disdain for people. A man who was so kind and friendly was married to the most antisocial person Y/n has ever come across. But he never wasted a moment to sing her her praises. Y/n remembers one of her sons and he was mean just like his mother; a school yard bully that would beat up on anyone he saw as weak and alone. Y/n was lucky that he knew she had an older brother to protect because the Blackwater’s youngest boy never tried anything with her. However, she was not lucky enough to escape the wrath of Mrs. Blackwater. The irony was that she probably would've been better off being a victim of her son. That woman was nasty and wasn't afraid to show it.

"Don't you two get tired of dressing like whores?"

They had to pass the Blackwater house to get to Rose's house. Her house used to be at the end of the street before it got burned down, leaving the Blackwater house the last one on the street. It was nice, and had a big, big porch that Mrs. Blackwater always sat on for most of the day. She didn't stop at calling them just "whores'' and "wenches" either. Y/n never could understand why they always took the brunt of that woman's anger. Rose went home in tears every time she walked by that house. Maybe Y/n's anger is displaced, but she blames Mrs. Blackwater for why Rose was so eager to leave. There wasn't much here, but Rose always promised she'd stay. But ever since they encountered Mrs. Blackwater's misery, Rose had changed.

She could imagine that same venomous voice saying awful things about her husband, "Lee Bodecker put that body in the water. I saw it with my own two eyes!"

The thought of her husband killing someone shouldn't sound so crazy, especially after being able to do it herself. But her Lee can't be a cold-hearted man who slept with whores, murdered people, and ruined people lives. He was so sweet to her, he wasn't always was, but his touch was so soft against her skin, how could he hurt anyone?

Y/n had just turned 19 when she met Lee. He was a deputy, closer to being the sheriff than either of them knew at the time. Their age difference scared her somewhat; she only gave him a chance so she could distract herself from reminding herself that she should be finishing up the last year of being a college freshman. She had the grades and thought her test scores were satisfactory but she got rejected from Indiana University. Her father told her that there is always next year, but her mother told her she should just figure out a new plan.

It was the uncertainty and loneliness that made her get closer to Lee. He was close to his late 20s, unmarried, and he didn't exactly make his loneliness unknown.

He left a sour taste in her mouth in their very first encounter; pulling her over as an excuse to get her number. She gripped the steering wheel to stop them from shaking so much. She only had her license for a few weeks and made sure to be careful in fear of this exact situation happening. His slick talk didn't make her feel that much better either. She was too shaken up to even look at him in the eye or take in any of his features. She just remembered seeing his badge the words DEPUTY SHERIFF etched into it.

Lee let her off, saying she had a "pretty face" and that he hoped to see her around. She didn't think much about their interaction the days after he pulled her over, but she began to see him more than before. Y/n couldn't remember a time she had seen him prior to that one night and found it odd that his face kept reappearing. (He later told her that it was fate, but it was not. Lee purposefully put himself in her orbit. It was not hard to learn what her routine was and when she went out.)

She was weary about his advances, unsure how to react to them because the most experience she's had was with two boys, only one of whom she kissed. Their first date was not by choice either, he just decided to stick by her side while she was at the local dinner by herself.

And he has always stuck by since then, always hovering around her until she realized he was not going to go away and it’d be futile to ignore him. Lee never gave her the chance to make the decision for herself, but his girl was so sweet and she just needed a few cushy words for her to understand that this was where she belonged.

"Do your parents know you're out here meeting me?" It had only been a matter of time before she learned to be very obedient to him; always accepting his plans, even if it meant sneaking out of the house in the midnight hour. The smirk he wore on his face every time he watched her walk up to him left her feeling enchanted.

"Don't talk too loud. If my brother hears you he'll kill you and have my head."

She wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her front to him. Lee groaned at the feel of her breast against his chest. She was so nervous to do anything with him that she only let him kiss her. It was fine for a while, but he had grown tired of waiting. Tired of being teased by her in those soft, pink dresses that would ride up whenever she had to bend over even just a little bit. He couldn't believe how naive she was to believe he was always dropping things like a pencil or his wallet on accident; he just wanted to see her bend over for him just for a chance to peak at what pretty panties she wore that day.

Getting her to come out with him at night was surprising, but the idea of riding in his patrol car was so alluring. The sparkle in her eyes gave him an overwhelming sense of machismo; enough for him to realize he just needs to take what she wants.

The full moon hung in the clear sky and they had a vast, open field in front of them. He took her just to the edge of the county that was secluded and was his favorite spot to go for some quiet (or getting his dick sucked). The moonlight and a few street lights that were actually working were the only light they had.

"You look so pretty today baby," his hand rested on her thigh the whole entire drive but only now did he actually move it to stroke her skin, "you always look so pretty for me. I'm the luckiest man in town."

Y/n giggled and her face felt like it was burning up. No one had taken the time to compliment her sweetly, and that was obvious to Lee. He cradled her face in the palm of his hand and watched her turn into putty. His hand inches closer to her heat causing her to jump like his hand was made of actual fire.

"Relax baby...just relax for me," Lee planted his face in her neck and nipped at it. His lips tickled the skin on her neck and she did her best to suppress her giggles but they spilled from her lips. Lee smirked against her skin, "there she is. There's my girl."

She let a laugh slip through, but she suppressed the moan that was stuck in her throat. It was so odd to feel him on her neck but it was an unfamiliar feeling that she liked. His hand never left her thigh, in fact he had sneakily moved it closer to her sex. She felt ashamed about the growing wetness that she could feel sticking to her.

Lee grabbed her hand and placed it right over the bulge straining in his pants. She let out a heavy sigh when she realized what it was. "That's how hard you make me. You making me so fucking hard girl," he growled in her ears. This was something only the senior girls from her high school could dream about when they talked about hooking up with their boyfriends. None of them were even half the man Lee was, and here he was: hard and ready just for her.

"L-Lee," her voice broke into bits, her body overheating from Lee taking control, "wait, can we slow down?"

"You taste so sweet baby," he continued kissing her, ignoring her until she was pulling away from his grasp. "What's wrong girl?" The furrowing of his brow made her worry that she pissed him off. Lee was all she had, he convinced her to put away her dream of going to college and stay here for him, if she ran him off then she'd have nothing else.

"I'm just nervous. I’ve never done this before Lee," she hoped her honesty went a long way and would make him take her home instead. But all it did was make him readjust himself in his seat and pull away from her rather coldly.

Lee was irritated with her, she got him all hard, but he did his best to temper his anger. She's lucky that he was on the job all day and didn't have a chance to drink yet or else she'd see the side of him that he purposely hid from her.

"Don't be nervous baby. You know I love you right?" She nodded her head with her wide eyes holding a sad look in them, "good girl. Let me show you something."

Lee patted his lap and Y/n looked at him with apprehension.

"C'mon now," he patted his lap once again, this time with a bit of impatience in his voice.

Y/n awkwardly shifted over the center console of his patrol car and found herself in his lap. His strong arms wrapped around her waist and he rested his chin on her shoulder. She tried to ignore how his bulge poked at her slit through her cotton panties.

"You ever been in a car this nice before?"

"Uh-uh," she shook her head, somewhat distracted by the beautiful interior and his cock poking at her. The only car she's ever drove was the shitty one that was passed down to her. Lee's patrol car doesn't look like it's more than five years old.

Seeing her look in wonder at the dash made him even harder. He began to rut against her, trying to feel as much friction as he could, but it wasn't enough to satiate a man who has been waiting a few months for this.

He sat back and started fumbling with his pants. Y/n heard the sound of the metal on his belt and unzipping of his pants but she froze on top of him instead of moving. She grabbed the steering wheel and held onto it as tight as she did the night he first laid eyes on her. Her alarm rose when Lee lifted her up a little to push her panties to the side.

"Lee what are you doing-"

"Shhh baby don't worry, I got you."

The sensation of his head poking at her slit and her sliding down him was unspeakable. She was uncomfortable with his splitting size, but he didn't move her at all, trying to give her some time to adjust but it was just so hard for him to restrain himself. She was so tight and warm, and definitely untouched by any man. "Fuck," he mumbled warmly in her ear. She felt him wrap his arm tighter around her, almost as if he was afraid she was going to somehow run away from him. Even if she wanted to, she wouldn't know her way back home and she'd be stuck out here. She was safe with Lee even though she found herself feeling more confusion than pleasure.

Those girls from her high school days had to been lying to her, sex didn’t feel all that magical; his patrol car was not a romantic place to lose her virginity. Lee rocked her on his cock slowly as she tried to find the same pleasure that he was experiencing. His heavy breath was on her ear as she stared straight up into the night sky.

"You feel so good. You feel so fucking good baby."

His pleasure is what made her want to stay on top of him like this. She cared for him so much and she just wanted Lee to be proud of her. The "good girl" that continuously spilled from his lips sounded like a hymn she wanted to memorize.

Y/n let Lee have his way with her body. He groped her breast through her dress and then let his hands graze her sides. She wondered what he was doing when his hand slipped into her panties, but the warmth that shot through her made her mind go blank. Lee rubbed at her sensitive bud and she constricted around him. Instead of whimpering, she was now fully moaning; the way it felt so good had put her discomfort into the back of her mind.

"Oh fuck -- move your hips girl. You feel so good."

He rubbed her harder as a reward for swirling her hips against him. She began to bounce on top of him and he no longer had to do the hard work, just lean back and feel her engulfing him in her warmth.

"Lee," she whimpered, unsure of herself, but then she called his name again, "Lee," as if to let him know that he was the one giving her pleasure.

Lee knew he wasn't going to last, not when she was as tight and wet as she was. He can't remember the last time he took someone's virginity, nor when he was this hard. It was clear to him that she had no idea what she was doing by the way she bounced on him without a rhythm. Sometimes she'd stall herself before moving fast again. It didn't irk him, he found it endearing that she was so inexperienced. He was going to have to show her a lot of things and get her to fuck him to his liking.

Y/n gasped when Lee pulled out of her and jerked himself until white liquid was splashing on the back of her panties. She'd have to wash them before her mother saw the stain.

"You did so good baby, taking my cock like a big girl," he placed a sloppy kiss on her cheek, still trying to catch his breath while she shifted on top of him. He put himself away and nudged her towards the empty passenger seat. She was silent the entire time he drove her home. A sense of pride filled her because she had made Lee feel good. The sex itself was too weird to describe as being good, but she liked how she felt inside when he told her she felt good and that she made him cum. That's all she wanted to do was please Lee.

Saturday morning proved to be another beautiful day. It seems as if Summer didn't want to leave just yet even though October was near. There wouldn't be many more opportunities for Lee to make his impressions and sway the last few voters not on his side.

The event had been boring at most, but Sally's words really shook her up. No one in town would deny that Mrs. Blackwater has always been a bitter women, but they also wouldn't necessarily turn the other cheek if she starts going around saying that Lee Bodecker is a murder. Y/n's new problem made her forget about the decaying brothel owner. She doesn't care how mean the whole town thought the old woman was, she wanted her gone.

"You slept in. Did I tire you out last night?" Lee had the same smug smirk on his face that has been imprinted on her brains since their early years together.

Y/n nodded even though it wasn't completely truthful. She slept so hard because she's mentally spent and it was finally catching up with her body. Lee had been too distracted to notice how distant she was last night and how she is still distant now. In his eyes, as long as she was eager to lay under him then everything was fine.

Most mornings started like this: Y/n waking up next to her still tired husband and waiting to hear her daughter crying for her. He trudged out of bed and she heard him beat a path down the hall to the bathroom. There was still no sound of her daughter needing her, giving her some time alone. It was nearly silent except for the faint sound of the shower going. She breathed deeply and found herself feeling serene. Just five minutes without the memory of Sally threatening to pull her and her husband's support taunting her.

"Y/n! Do you not hear her crying?" Lee held a stern look on face, he must have been standing there for a few minutes. His towel was wrapped around his waist, stomach hanging over the soft white cotton, "what's wrong with you girl?"

She shook her head, "nothing Lee. I'm just still a lil' tired."

His face softened at her explanation but he nodded his head towards the door so she could take care of their daughter. Y/n hurried not to upset him for the rest of the day.

Their baby was just fussy and hungry. Her little eyes weren’t that red so she hadn’t been crying for long. “You hungry?” Her daughter somewhat understood what her mother was saying because her eyes went wide. The nightgowns Lee had bought Y/n made it much easier for her to pull herself out of them to feed their girl. She could see her daughter calming down, eyes closing once again. Y/n thought about keeping her daughter with her but she needed to rest in her crib. She placed her down gently as not to disturb and wake her again. At least one person in this family deserves peace.

"Back to sleep?" Lee's voice startled her, but the hand on her hip soothed her. Y/n nodded, never taking her eyes away from her girl. "Precious isn't she? So sweet when she's not fussin' about."

"She only fusses because she's teething, and she misses her father."

"Honey, you know why I'm at work longer than usual. It's for her. It's for you. It's for us. Do you know how much better her life, your life, is going to be better after I win that race?"

"But what if you don't win?"

Y/n rarely questions Lee, not even over small things, so he was confused as to why she was questioning him now. Did his wife not believe in him? She worried a lot, but when he first ran for sheriff, she was not this doubtful.

"What are you trying to say?"

"Lee, I didn't say that. It's just that people been talkin' and -"

"And you believe them? So my own wife doesn't think I'm going to win because a few people can’t got some things wrong?”

Y/n flinched as his voice got louder. The brashness of his voice woke their girl up from her attempt to fall into a deep sleep. Instead of waking up and silently looking around, the first thing that came from her was a cry. It served as a way for Y/n to escape Lee's wrath. She pulled her crying daughter into her arms and held her close to her chest. One glance at Lee's face and she knew he was going to deal with her later. But for now he just sighed and walked out of the nursery.

"Aww don't cry honey. It was just your daddy, okay? He's not mad at you sweetheart. Don't cry...don't cry," Y/n's voice cracked and tears slipped down her face. Her pleas were more for herself than they were her daughter.

Lee's hesitance to address the obvious problems he faces in regards to the election made Y/n feel uneasy. All she wanted was for her husband to just outright say he never did those things, but he never did. And if Y/n has resulted to murder, then she knows deep down that he did some of those things that people allege. There were just things that were too loud to drown out. The business when it came to solving a string of murders that happened a few years ago and people talking about him didn't affect him when he was going for re-election. There was no one else that had a strong enough presence to go against him and the folks in town figured that Lee gets enough done as far as crime goes, even though he could do more.

Y/n should be tired of trying to clean up his mess when he was so short with her. However it is not entirely his fault; he does not know. Maybe one day he'll learn and be grateful for what she has done for him.

Lee just couldn't stop reminding her that Sandy and Carl were coming over. It's almost as if he knew it got under Y/n's skin and used it against her after she hurt his feelings this morning. He's a sensitive one, even though he hides it well from most people, but her moment of vulnerability wasn't meant to hurt him. Though if their conversation had progressed any further, she might have spilled what she did to the brothel owner. She may want to believe Lee would be proud of her, but she cannot be so sure. It's sickening to assume that someone would be proud of a murder. She quickly began to feel dirty after a few minutes with her own thoughts ever since Lee snapped at her.

"Can you clean up? We're going to be having guests soon."

There were just a few baby toys on the floor but it was best not to make things worse with Lee (even though those toys were going to end up in the same place anyway).

Lee stepped outside as Y/n put their daughter in her high chair. Ever since her birth Lee was mindful not to smoke in the house; it was one of the house rules Y/n proposed that he was surprisingly very accepting of. She had taken away most of the things that he used to destress: alcohol, cigarettes, and candies.

She heard the motor of a car and Lee's muffled voice. She knew it was them, but hoped they were just making a short trip over. It's not like Lee likes Carl, and he's constantly complaining about his trouble making sister. Y/n hates that Sandy uses their daughter as an excuse to come over. She wouldn't mind if Sandy came alone, but she hated Carl around her little girl and she's sure Lee feels the same way.

Y/n's mother had gotten their daughter such a stupid gift when she was born. A baby that's not even half a year old yet didn't need a toy that had a million little pieces they could easily choke on, but of course it was her favorite thing to place with. Lee never cleaned up the mess, it was always Y/n who was doing it. She tried her best to pick everything up before they stepped inside but she heard the front door open. She tensed up, but she only heard the heavy footsteps of one person, and god did she hope it was Lee.

"What you doin' down there?"

Her eyes trailed up and Carl was gazing down at her. Words got caught in her throat and she clutched her hand around one of the toy pieces, the edges of it painfully digging into her palm.

"Did I scare you?"

The smirk on her face made her want to shriek. She noted that he didn't call her "darlin'" like he used to. She can only guess what Lee did to him when he "took him out back" after calling her that for a few years.

"Where's my niece?"

Y/n shot up, not caring about the toys still on the floor. She'll be damned if Carl is alone with her daughter for even a second.

Sandy came in with Lee following behind her. He gave Y/n a look of understanding, he too hoped this was going to be a short visit. The sound of Sandy fawning over her niece overtook the room. Their daughter giggled and babbled at her aunt as if she could understand her.

"Y/n go make us some ice tea."

Usually Lee doesn't command her to do things, unless he was stressed or horny. She knew her was the former by the look on his face. He was aggravated and this visit wasn't going to make him feel any better. As Y/n left the room, Sandy sat down on their couch with their daughter in her arms. Carl sat next to them, making the alarm in Lee rise.

"I got you something honey," she pulled out a little doll from her purse. It looked tattered and Lee wondered where she got it from.

"You know she already has enough dollies," Lee joked. It didn't matter to his girl, it was a new toy, "got anything for your brother?"

Sandy eyes him before pulling out a small bag of candy. She tossed it to him and he caught it, "I knew you'd ask for somethin'"

He opened it and instantly popped a sweet cherry candy into his mouth.

"Y/n's not letting me drink since the girl is so young. This is the only thing I got, even though she's on my ass about that too," Lee knew that Sandy wasn't too interested in the ins-and-outs of his everyday life but he gets tired of complaining to his deputies.

"Yea, I bet," she kept a snide comment about her sister-in-law to herself. The box of cigarettes she had calling her name we're going to have to wait. "How's that mayor race going?"

"It's going."

"Heard that whore house owner croaked," Carl's voice carried to the kitchen and Y/n paused, "found in unusual circumstances...chairs pushed up against the door...poisoned. Reckon one of those girls got tired of him holdin' them down-"

"No smoking in the house," Lee interrupted when he noticed Carl reaching for the pack of cigarettes in his shirt pocket. Carl laughed as if he wanted to challenge Lee, but his hand went back to resting on the back of the couch.

"Wouldn't want this little darlin' smellin' like a bar."

Anytime Carl spoke at or about her daughter, Y/n wanted to vomit. Carl is not nice. She wonders how twisted Sandy might be to marry someone who is awful to women and has no filter.

There was a cloud of fear over her head when Carl was around. She wishes Lee was more apprehensive but Sandy's his little sister, and he cares for her no matter how much those two causes. Things would be different if Y/n had told Lee about that time Carl pressed himself against and put his hand up the skirt of her dress. His threat would forever bounce off her skull and it only got louder when he was near. "Shut you're fucking mouth or else your husbands gonna see his slut wife bending over for another man." She was five months pregnant and had no way to defend herself. He only groped her, but she always wondered if he would've gone further if Sandy hadn't come in looking for the cooking tongs Lee told her to fetch. Sandy knew something had happened, but she said nothing. Y/n's disdain for her only grew from that day on.

Lee redirected the conversation from what Carl had started to something a bit more asinine. He didn't want to talk about something work-related because he didn't need to be stressed out any further. Reed’s death wasn't another blow to his reputation like Lee thought it would. It was going to be another unsolved murder from the way it was looking though. The people assumed one of the girls did it. The place had been emptied out; it surely looked different from when Lee was last in there. Lee was lucky that Reed was extremely disliked, unlike that preacher Roy who died some years ago. More people said "he had it coming" instead of "why isn't the sheriff doing anything?"

He laughed about it though. When he was alone in the car after leaving the crime scene, he laughed. There was no more worrying about the rumor that Sheriff Lee Bodecker beat one of his girls. When Lee did go to that place, he was never forceful. Lee could be mean towards women at times, but he was never violent.

If Lee was called in on a Sunday morning, then it was very important. He woke Y/n up at 5 am and kissed her out of her confused state to say goodbye. She only slept for another hour after laying her head down back on the pillow.

This morning felt so different.

The morning she woke up knowing her task was to deal with Reed, she was distracted and jumpy. But she had grown so accustomed to her guilt that it's become a comfortable feeling. Mrs. Blackwater was a more personal score to settle. That woman was throwing dirt on Lee's name, but the turmoil she caused her teenage friend would never leave her mind. Y/n had learned how cruel someone could be without physically hurting you. The boys on school grounds were annoying brats, but that woman had a truly awful mouth.

The Petersons’ daughter was over right after church. She had a wide smile on her face, happy that Mrs. Bodecker was giving her another opportunity to make some money.

"She's been a fairly good mood lately," Y/n handed her daughter off to the shorter teenage girl, "she slept through the night for once, but she's still gonna need a nap. Once she starts fussin' put her in her crib. I should be back before Lee."

Y/n wished her well and the Petersons girl wished Y/n a good time running her errands. It was comical to think of this as an errand, even though today she was going to treat it like one.

She was in Lee's nice car again meaning she was going to have to temporarily get rid of it. Y/n put much more effort into this, her haphazard plan to take out Reed could've gone horribly wrong. She spent her time snooping around town when she was out with one of her mom friends. The plan had been simple: park the car at the crowded grocery just two blocks away from the Blackwater house. The house sat at the end of the street, a bit separated from the other row of houses because of the larger amount of land they owned. It wouldn't be a problem to walk to the house seeing as others in this neighborhood do the same thing.

When her mother had made that dress for her to wear to the Spring Formal, Y/n cried, saying she was going to look like a nurse instead of "the prettiest girl in town" like Jim, the guy who asked her to the dance said. A teenage grievance had somehow come in handy almost a decade later. It was under a long coat that was a bit abnormal for this warm day.

Y/n felt sickly confident. That only thing she worried about was Lee cruising through and seeing his car in the parking lot. But the grocery store offered a great cover. The sun was covered by a thick cloud as she walked away from the grocery store and to the old Blackwater house.

That porch still looked the same. It was old and rickety, squeaking as she stepped on it, she's surprised it didn't give it away some years ago. The rocking chair Mrs. Blackwater sat on while terrorizing people was no longer there. At least her days of scaring off the newer generation of kids were over.

Y/n knocked on the door and waited. She had to knock again, and by the third time she wondered if the old lady did the job for her!

"Who is it?" The voice was much more frail, but it was that voice.

"I'm here to help!" The upturn of her voice at the end made her statement sound more like a question.

The locks on the door began to click and Mrs. Blackwater peered at her.

"You're not the one they always send."

"Oh, she's sick today! I'm just filling in for her today!" After two weeks of watching, Y/n learned what days Mrs. Blackwater's nurse came and went. She came everyday but she was absent on Sundays. It's somewhat astounding that Mrs. Blackwater didn't ask about Y/n turning up on a Sunday.

"Ahh whatever," she dismissed, unlocking the screen door, and wheeling backwards in the wheelchair that she had been relegated to a few years ago.

Y/n didn't know what to expect when she stepped inside, but it wasn't too far off from how her parent's house looked; black and white photos littering the walls and stacks of paper that probably could've been thrown away a decade ago. What is different from her parent's home is that this place is an utter mess. The nurse that usually comes to take care of her could at least tidy it up a bit. With how much she hated everything, Y/n would've assumed she hated mess too, but her home says otherwise. This lady was an absolute hoarder.

"Don't bother me," Mrs. Blackwater sniped at her. She wheeled herself next to the couch and glued her eyes to the black and white television screen.

Y/n doesn't know how many hours Mrs. Blackwater spent sitting there and watching The Andy Griffin Show. She didn't laugh when something funny happened, she just sat there still, sometimes grumbling to herself in reaction to what was happening on screen.

The least Y/n could do was tidy up a bit. It would be a kind gesture to leave her to die in a presentable place.

Mrs. Blackwater is not going to die a violent death. She was awful, but she did not deserve the brutality like someone who has done physical harm did. (If she was just a little bit braver, she would've hacked him to death, but the sight of blood makes her ill). Mrs. Blackwater was up in age, nearing her 90s, and it would be time for her to go soon anyway. Y/n dusted around the TV, one of the last things this old woman may see. All the photos of people on the walls were staring at her as she moved about cleaning the dust from the frames. So many people, many dead but most probably alive. Mrs. Blackwater had children and probably grandchildren but no one came to visit her. Her tongue was sharp, but how could no one come and visit their aging mother?

"Stop moving so damn much. Sit down girl."

The venom was still in her voice. It would never go away, at least not until she dies. This woman didn't appreciate anything and enjoyed being miserable. Y/n listened to her like that scared little teenager she used to be. She sat on the couch, a few feet away from Mrs. Blackwater who had not taken her eyes off the TV or moved at all. Y/n was spending time with a woman who was going to die at her hands today. If she's going to die then at least she's going to die doing what she loves; watching her shows and bitching out the closest person in reach.

She had only moved to grab the newspaper from the table on the other side of her. It was Friday's addition, Y/n could tell from the photo on the cover. She couldn't help but eye the old woman as she read the paper. It has been probably three hours and she hasn't even asked for anything to eat.

"People droppin' like flies in this shit hole."

Y/n's ears perked up, but she didn't say anything, she just let the lady talk.

"Leroy should know better not to do that shit here...especially with that corrupt sheriff around...would've had an easier time gettin' away with it in the city. Everyone in the city already does all that illegal shit so it probably wouldn’t have mattered anyway. Now he’s dead."

Y/n had heard that name before. She remembers vividly Lee chewing someone out on the phone and saying their name with contempt. Leroy, Leroy, Leroy. The name "Bobo" also came up in the conversation a few times. Y/n wanted to be mad at Mrs. Blackwater for referring to her husband as "corrupt" but something nagged at her to keep the conversation going for her sake.

"W-what do you mean?" Her voice cracked but it was ignored by the old woman.

"You must not be from here. Everyone knows that if you get caught up with that fat bastard sheriff you must be doin’ some awful shit. The only reason why he keeps gettin' re-elected is because everyone is scared of him. It doesn't matter how many babies that man has, he's a killer...dragging that man's body and fucking up carnations..."

No one had ever talked to Mrs. Bodecker about her husband like this. Town gossipers had the decency to wait until she left the room to say something about him. But she's not Mrs. Bodecker right now. It does not matter anyway because the old lady doesn't know what she's talking about. She hasn't spent the hours with Lee, with him being sweet and so soft with his daughter. Y/n firmly believes that if Lee did indeed kill someone then it was for a good reason. She knows her husband involves himself in dirty things, but it had to be for a good reason. Lee did not show brutality for no reason; he didn't get his rocks off on hurting innocent people.

"People can change. I'm sure he's a different man now."

"Why!? Because he got a bitch and a bastard? You are too naïve...at least the other girl they send has some more sense in her head. No man is going to want to marry a dumb girl."

An awkward silence surrounded them but it was mostly felt by Y/n. She found herself frozen with a ball of rage and anxiety in her stomach. But she had no time to dwell for much longer though.

"I'm thirsty...go make me something."

Y/n noticed Mrs. Blackwater flinching when she grabbed the remote to turn the volume higher. She either had arthritis or just pain in her hands.

"Okay...do you need to take any pills at this time?"

"My husbands gone and my children don't visit me. You think I care about taking my pills?"

Maybe Mrs. Blackwater would be kind to her if she knew Y/n was going to take her out of her misery. Breaking open the capsules and dumping it in the tea she made for her is going to do the job. She might succumb to a heart attack, or pass peacefully. The only person Y/n felt bad for was the poor nurse who was going to find her dead tomorrow morning.

Lee was able to leave his shift earlier than expected. Sundays are very quiet, the only thing he got up to was paperwork at the station. He could go home early to his wife, play with the girl while Y/n makes dinner, and get a nice ride from his wife while their daughter sleeps. Y/n said something about needing him to pick up some chicken stock from the grocery store.

People filled in and out of the grocery store as the sun began to set. A few people spoke to him, never for too long knowing that he's not fond of small talk. But more people being friendly with him was a good sign. Even without his sweet wife next to him, no one shied away from saying hello to the man running for Mayor.

Two boxes of chicken stock should be enough even though his wife sent him for three. The brand she likes isn’t exactly cheap. Lee promptly made his way to the cashier who greeted him with a smile.

"Good evening sheriff!" her voice was sweet and she batted her eyes a few times. Lee offered her a smile, but a small laugh escaped. This girl couldn't be younger than 20 but she fawned over him like a young school girl. Her behavior reminded him of Y/n when she was that age. "Darlene said she saw your car in the parking lot but didn't get a chance to catch Mrs. Bodecker herself."

Lee stopped caring about the items (a few snuck in there for him) being rung up. His brows furrowed and the girl realized that she had said something maybe she shouldn't have.

"My wife was here?"

"That's what Darlene said. Her shift ended right as I was coming in so I wasn't there when it happened...do you still want the chicken stock?"

"Yea yea just ring it up."

Lee's mind was too preoccupied with the weird behavior his wife has been exhibiting for the last several weeks. She often hovered over him when he was on the phone like she was interested in what he was talking about. All the swearing and terms she didn't understand kept her from asking what his loud, and often abrasive, phone conversations were about. But now she was listening a little too hard for his liking.

The only time Y/n was supposed to drive their car is if Lee told her she could or if there was an emergency. A trip to the grocery store did not fall under either of those categories. But it was particularly weird to him that she would go to the store when she told him to go himself. If she had forgotten something, she would have not hesitated to call the station. Something was up with her.

Everything felt normal as he stepped into the house. The smell of what she was cooking hit his nose and the familiar noises of his daughter babbling louder than the Y/n moving around the kitchen. If he had no questions for his wife, then he'd feel all warm inside walking into his home in this current state.

Y/n was talking to their daughter as if she was holding a real conversation with her. Their daughter started squealing when she saw Lee appear in the doorway. He put his index finger to his lips to tell her to quiet herself, but she was only louder.

"I couldn't believe it either! They said the hairdresser purposefully dyed Marie's hair darker," she spoke, thinking her daughter was just squealing because she was talking to her and not because her husband was creeping up behind her.

Hands snaked around her waist and she nearly jumped. "Oh yea? Is that what the town is gossipin' about today?" Lee's familiar voice soothed her and she turned around in his arms. She deftly kissed him and looked up at him.

"Wanna know what else I heard?" He whispered to her. Y/n nodded, a smile spreading on her face as she rested her forehead against his, "heard the sheriff's wife been out and about and driving his nice car."

Y/n's smile fell from her face, but it only made Lee smile wider.

"You wanna tell me what you were doing out?"

"I needed something from the store."

"So my task to pick up the chicken stock after work was for nothing?"

"No...I went to my parents house...didn't want to go empty-handed. You know how my mother gets."

What a sweet little liar.

But she still had the smell of an old house lingering around her so maybe it wasn’t completely a lie. Still, he knew something was up with her.

“How was work?” She quickly tried to change the subject. Lee was not really in the mood to interrogate her, it was Sunday after all. He sat down in the chair next to his daughter's high chair. She started reaching for his hat but he was too far away, so Lee rested his head on the tray and let her have her fun. Y/n was probably going to be mad at him for putting his head where she eats and getting all of his “outside germs” all over it, but he didn’t care.

“I’m tired,” he confessed, a heavy sigh escaping him, “I’m really fucking tired.”

Y/n wishes she could lift more of her husband’s burdens. Killing people who were talking about him did not get rid of the core problem. Sometimes she wishes he never decided to run for mayor. Life was so much more comfortable when he would run unopposed for county sheriff. Instead her husband had a bigger dream. From the very beginning she felt like it was a long shot that this would be successful, but they had gotten so far in changing how most of the people viewed Lee. And even though they felt a way about him, they still respected the sheriff.

“It’s going to be over soon. I promise.”

He truly wanted to believe her, but the sinking feeling that the past was going to catch up with him was not going away.

#lee bodecker #lee bodecker x reader #lee bodecker x you #lee bodecker x y/n #lee bodecker smut #the devil all the time #dark fic #lee bodecker fic #sebastian stan fic

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ultraintrovertedgryffindor · 3 years

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Can I request a Thomas (tmr) x f!reader soulmate au maybe where he comes up to the glade after she’s been there for a while with her name on his wrist. And that brings back her memories of him? Thank you!!

Of course, sweet Anon! 😊 I don't usually like AU, but I actually do like the soulmate trope lol. Also, this took too long, I know. I've been so unmotivated and I have no idea why and I still have like 4 more imagines to do hahahahahaaa......ugh

Aaaanyway...*cough cough* this is...what it is. I have this disease, called "backstoryinitis" where I add too much backstory to an imagine, so, uh, sorry?

~~~~~~~~~~

Wiping a bead of sweat off your brow, you stopped hoeing the ground when you heard the loud alarm that rang every month.

Another month, another Greenie...

You'd lived in the Glade for a couple years now, so you were used to new kids coming up in what everyone called the Box every month. It's really the only way you could keep track of how long you were stuck in this place.

Every month, you wondered if there was going to be someone like you sent up; a female. Being the only girl in a group of dozens of boys, it got lonely. Of course you had friends, but it just wasn't the same to you. And what was even weirder, you had a tattoo on your wrist, a name.

At first, when you came up in the Box without your memories, you actually thought it was your name, until you remembered your actual name.

Looking at your wrist every day and night, you tried to comb your brain for any sliver of memory that could answer your hundreds of questions that you had. Why was this name on your wrist, and who was this person? You hoped you'd find out, one day.

You ran alongside your friend to the Box, Chuck. Well, more like closest person you considered a younger brother. He very well could've been for all you knew, but he was just one of over fifty other boys that could've been a relative. But you always called Chuck "baby brother," not that he enjoyed that nickname, in public at least. He did get teased a bit by the other guys if you called him that within earshot, so you eased up on the name a bit. But you couldn't help that protective sister side of you when you thought Chuck was getting too close to the Box when it still hadn't come up all the way.

You looked around at all the excited faces of the other boys, anxious to see the new Greenie, anxious to hassle him more like.

You always tried to be nice to Greenies, remembering how poorly you were treated when you arrived in the Glade a couple years ago. No one would really take you seriously because you were a girl. You didn't even get a job assigned to you until a few months later, of course besides the stereotypical doing the laundry and helping Frypan in the kitchen, until you almost burned down the whole shack. Turns out, you were a terrible cook. Fry still teases you about it from time to time.

Eventually, you gained everyone's trust, even Gally's, that kid definitely took some convincing though. You thought he hated you if you were being honest, but in time, you saw through your anger and understood why. Some mysterious girl just shows up with a name tattooed on her wrist when nobody else did? It probably would've freaked you out too. Thankfully, everyone stopped asking you about it when you didn't even know yourself.

You winced softly when a dull pain shot up your hand, the ink in your wrist started to itch. Huh, it's never itched before? You tried to think nothing of it when the Box finally came up all the way, Gally reaching down and opening up the hatch doors.

Everyone peered over the sides of the heavy metal doors, trying to get a good look at the new Greenie. Of course, it was another male, cowering in the corner in terror like so many other boy you've seen. An odd feeling washing over you, like nostalgia but mixed with an almost sense of overwhelming joy. The feeling was so all consuming that you didn't even notice the new Greenie taking off in a dead sprint until all your fellow Gladers started to whoop and holler, obviously finding the Greenie's fear amusing, the boy faceplanting only adding to their boisterous laughter.

You rolled your eyes, mumbling to yourself, "The dude's just scared."

Of course, the Greenie being terrified out of his mind didn't stop the Keepers from deciding to keep him in the pit until he calmed down, a sentiment you did not share. Newt chuckled, gaining your attention quickly. "What're you laughing at?" You asked.

"Nothing, just adorable how you feel for the Greenies."

"Oh, shuck you."

"Why so defensive?"

"I am not." You pouted, crossing your arms. "It's not like he's the only one that's totally freaked out on the first day. He shouldn't be locked up in the pit."

"That is true, but you know it's for everyone's safety, including his." He said, walking away.

"Yeah, yeah..." You sighed, uncrossing your arms and choosing to lean against the hoe that you were holding, eyes completely focused on Alby and the new Greenie. To say you were curious would've been an understatement.

It was strange, you usually didn't have such a peaked interest in Greenies like this before. You felt yourself drawn to him, for some unknown reason. And another thing that was strange, your wrist tattoo had been tingling ever since he came up in the Box, but you just wrote that up as a coincidence. There was no way it could be correlated...right?

"Y/n!"

You turned to Alby, quickly making his way to you with almost angry expression on his face. "What's wrong?"

"Do you know the Greenie?" He asked, his expression not changing.

You furrowed your brows, a nervous chuckle escaping your lips. "Of course not, why would I?"

"Your name is on his wrist."

You froze, your confusion clearly etched on your face. "W-What?"

"You really don't know him? If your name is on his wrist, then I think it's pretty safe to assume that the name on your wrist is his."

"No, that's...impossible. I..." You were at a loss for words, how could this be happening? All this time, you just thought, maybe you had a partner before your memories got wiped and got their name tattooed; but now, you had no idea the hell was going on.

"The Greenie also claimed he didn't know where the tattoo came from, or who the name belonged to."

"You didn't tell him...about me?"

"No, not yet. I wanna keep this under wraps until we figure out what the shuck is happening here."

"But Alby, everyone knows about my tattoo, if someone sees his-"

"He's wearing a long sleeve. If he knows what's good for him he'll listen to me when I told him to cover it." Alby sighs, hardening his expression once more. "I swear, Y/n, if you know something about this-"

"I don't." You assured, you were just as confused as he was.

"The bonfire tonight will be a good opportunity to talk to the Greenie, everyone'll be too drunk to notice."

"Alby, you still trust me, right?"

"That remains to be seen."

The anxiety that you felt the rest of the day finally bubbled to the surface when the bonfire party started. You pretty much avoided the Greenie all day. You didn't know if you had any reason to be scared, but so many fears plagued your mind. So many "what ifs." But were sure nothing would be worse than having to wait to find out.

Looking over to see the Greenie and Newt sitting together away from the bonfire, Alby gave you a look, stern but not stern enough for you to feel threatened, although you still felt nervous.

Slowly walking over to the Greenie, you kept telling yourself over and over that this is the moment you've been waiting for ever since you were sent to the Glade, the moment you found out if this boy was the one who's name was permanently engraved onto your skin. You could finally have some sort of closure, maybe not complete, but just knowing would be enough.

You nervously cleared your throat, both boys looking your way as you stood above them. "Hey, Newt." You quickly started, "thought I'd introduce myself to the Greenie." You gave Newt a look that told him to leave the two of you alone.

Newt chuckled. "Right, of course. I think I'm gonna get myself another drink." And off he went, leaving you and the Greenie in an awkward silence, but more of an anxious silence on your part.

"Sorry I haven't introduced myself yet, been a busy day." You forced a smile, taking a seat next to the Greenie.

"Do you guys throw parties like this every time a new...Greenie shows up?" The boy asked, a slight bitter tone to his voice.

"Yeah, pretty much. We only really started this tradition a year ago, we thought we might as well celebrate another month of surviving here, also welcoming the newbies."

"Yeah, well, doesn't really feel like a warm welcome, despite the bonfire." You chuckled. "Are you...? Uh, never mind."

"No, what?"

"Well, just looking around, you seem to be the only girl here. Why is that?"

You shrugged. "Beats me. I came here just like everybody else, no memories. I wish I knew. Speaking of, have you remembered your name yet?"

The Greenie frowned. "No." He whispered, suddenly rubbing his sleeve covered wrist.

"What's wrong?" You asked, noticing his discomfort.

He sighed. "Uh, nothing. My wrist just hurts a little, might've sprained it or somethin'."

This was taking too long, and the bonfire party was starting to die down. It would be over soon, you had to speed this up.

"Alby told me..." You started, nervously taking a deep breath before continuing, "about your wrist."

The Greenie looked to you with wide eyes. "He told me to keep quiet about it, why would he tell you?"

"Because...the name on your wrist is mine."

He furrowed his brows, his mouth slightly agape, rolling up his sleeve slightly, just enough to see the top of the outline of your name. "Wait, really? How is that...?"

"I don't know. But I'm guessing," You rolled up your own sleeve, "this is your name?"

You held up your wrist, the light from the bonfire illuminating the ink enough for the Greenie to read what it said, "Thomas." Thomas' confused face mirrored your own, both of you feeling a strange mix of emotions all at once. He reached out, you flinching away slightly. "Can I?" He asked.

You nodded curtly, extending out your wrist for him to hold.

As soon as his skin made contact with yours, you felt a spark of electricity rush through your whole body, so intense that it made you jolt with a quiet gasp. Thomas seemed to have felt the same, his grip on your wrist tightening as he felt the same rush.

You suddenly felt like you were hit in the head with a brick, sharp flashes of images of you, but not in the Glade. These were different, you saw yourself smiling, laughing, with an older woman, smile lines and subtle wrinkles around her eyes, tuffs of greyish white hair scattered about in random spots amongst her lush natural colored hair. You instantly teared up...this was your mother...you remembered your mother.

"I remember." You and Thomas said at the exact same time.

"My name is Thomas." He confirmed, tears welling up in his golden brown eyes, giving them a shine. "I remember everything, my family, my friends, why I came here..."

"I remember my life before here too. I was...taken. They took me away from my mama." You quickly felt a surge of anger rush through you. "W.C.K.D. They did this."

Thomas sighed. "I know..." He took hold of both your hands. "I remember you too, Y/n." A slight rosy blush spreading across his cheeks.

"Me too." You said softly.

You both had worked at W.C.K.D. together, you both had the same distain for the company and wanting to take them down together, both of you being betrayed and sent here. You knew it was dangerous for W.C.K.D. to send you both to the same Maze trial, how could they make such a stupid mistake.

"We have to get everyone out of here, Thomas."

"We will."

"Together."

~~~~~~~~~~

Well, that escalated quickly. Hope you enjoyed it regardless, Anon😊

#the maze runner #tmr thomas #thomas x reader

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kuroopaisen · 4 years

Text

tiny love || iv

➵ as tooru’s younger sister, falling in love with iwaizumi hajime was easy. iwaizumi ultimately decided to rebuff you. but that was a year ago - things are different now. and you have other things to worry about.

warnings: f!reader

wc: 2.6k

m.list | ch. 3 ↞ ch. 4↠ ch. 5

“Are you sure you’d be okay with that, Tooru?” You asked, trying to keep your voice as normal as possible.

Your heart stuttered in your chest. You were sat on the edge of your bed, phone pressed to your ear and fist twisted up in your sheets. There was a chill in the air that wouldn’t have bothered you under normal circumstances.

But after those words had left your brother’s mouth, something about the room felt sharp.

“I’m the one who suggested it, aren’t I?” Tooru chuckled. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

You bit the inside of your cheek, pain blossoming through the muscle. “I don’t know,” you mumbled. “I just didn’t think you’d be comfortable with me living with one of your friends.”

“Iwa’s a good guy,” he said. You could hear the smile in his voice. “Besides, you guys have known each other for ages. He’ll look after you, I’m sure of it.”

You chewed on your lip for a moment, at a total loss of what to say.

“It’s not like he’s going to try and get in your pants or anything,” Tooru snorted.

Godzilla. The couch in your family’s entertainment room. The warmth of his lips on yours.

But you couldn’t tell Tooru about any of that. Although, the moment he’d suggested you move in with Iwaizumi almost made you crack.

By some stroke of bad luck – or perhaps as the set-up for some cosmic joke – you’d gotten into the same university as the boy you’d been so enamoured with as a seventeen-year-old. And you’d genuinely had no idea.

But it was too late to change your plans. You’d already gotten a scholarship, and you were sure you parents wouldn’t forgive you if you pulled out now. Even if your instincts were telling you to do just that.

“Have you spoken to him about this?” You asked. Perhaps this was your out. If Iwaizumi wasn’t all for it, then there was absolutely no reason for you to agree with it. Right?

“Yeah,” Tooru said. “He’s all for it.”

You frowned. Iwaizumi? Okay with this? Even though he was the one who’d decided that you needed to distance yourselves from each other?

But… it’s been a year. And he’s been a university student living in another country. A lot had probably changed for him.

A lot had changed for you.

And as much as you wanted to deny it, there were benefits to living with Iwaizumi, at least for one semester.

Moving to America is scarier than you’re willing to admit. The thought of living with an unknown roommate in a country you’d never stepped foot in before had kept you up at night a few times.

What if you hated each other? What if something went horribly, terribly wrong and you were left stranded? What if they were a creep?

At least Iwaizumi was a known quantity. One that you hadn’t necessarily left it on terrible terms one; just awkward ones.

“You still there?” Tooru’s voice shocked you back to the present moment.

“Oh, yeah,” you cleared your throat, “is his LINE still the same?”

“Sure is!”

Your throat felt dry. “I’ll call him later.”

You twisted your fists in your bedsheets, a weird knot forming in your stomach.

“Good,” Tooru hummed. “I think it’ll be good for you. You don’t need to be completely alone when you first move over there.”

Guilt twisted in your chest. You knew why he was saying that. He’d told you just how lonely those first few months in Argentina had been.

He didn’t want that for you. That’s why he’d suggested this damn roommates idea.

If only he knew.

“That’d be good,” you said. It wasn’t a lie.

Another thought sat at the back of your throat, forcing its way out.

“Tooru, I… I don’t know if I’m ready for it.”

Your voice was painfully quiet as you finally breathed life into the one fear you didn’t want to admit. You hadn’t even mentioned this to Amaya. But you knew you could trust Tooru with this – perhaps, he might even be able to say something useful.

“You’ll be fine,” he said, his tone as gentle as he could muster. “I didn’t think I was ready, either.”

“I figured,” you grinned. For all his bravado at the airport, a few dozen follow-up phone calls had really sowed that idea in your mind.

Tooru scoffed. “Here I am, trying to be a good older brother—”

“Sorry, sorry,” you laughed. “I appreciate the attempt.”

“You know, you’d think that me moving half way across the world would be enough to get you to finally be nice to me,” Tooru sighed, and you don’t need to see him to know that he was running a hand through his hair dramatically. “But alas… I’m doomed to be mistreated by my very own sister.”

“Have you considered being less dramatic?” You teased. “Then maybe I’d take you a bit more seriously.”

You held the phone away from your ear as Tooru started his tirade,

“If I’m being completely honest,” he said, his tone now much heavier than before, “I thought I was making a big mistake for a second there.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Two weeks in and I wanted to run back home. I wondered if I could really do this.”

A part of your brain told you to be surprised. Another part told you that of course he’d be frightened.

Tooru is just a human, not some superhuman who’s above mortal concerns – no matter how much he tried to hide that fact.

“Turned out to be one of the best decisions of my life.”

A gentle, relieved silence settled between the two of you, the only sound the distant din of traffic from Tooru’s end of the phone.

“I’m glad to hear it,” you murmured. Sincerity was rare between the two of you, but you weren’t about to pretend to be anything but relieved.

“Trust me, it’s going to be fine,” Tooru sighed. “And if it doesn’t end up working out, you’ve still got time. You’re young. And you’ve got a home to go back to.”

You searched for the comfort in those words as best you could. But you couldn’t find any. He hadn’t intended it, but within those words was a little reminder that you might fail. That you might not even come close to the brilliance that is Oikawa Tooru.

“Thanks, Tooru,” if all you could say. He’s just trying to be helpful.

“Besides, if it all goes to shit, you can join me in Argentina!” His voice was a tad more gleeful than you would’ve liked.

“I don’t think I’ll be doing that,” you chuckled.

“Aw,” he whined, “why not?”

“You’d be such a helicopter parent.”

Tooru gasped, the sound piercing over the phone line. “I would not!”

“You would!” You laughed. “You’d meddle in everything?”

“And?” He scoffed. “Is that such a bad thing?”

“Yes!” You protested. “I’m not a child anymore.”

“Ah, well you see,” Tooru tutted. “That’s where you’re wrong. You’ll always be a child to me.”

You rolled your eyes, a comfortable feeling of familiarity settling in your chest. Suddenly, your room doesn’t feel so cold. “I didn’t answer your call just to be coddled.”

“You should be used to it by now.”

“You know, whenever I start to miss you, I’m going to remind myself of this.”

“You are so mean to me!” Tooru wailed.

The bickering went on, an endless cycle of well-worn insults and epithets. But the conversation had to come to an end. You knew you couldn’t put off contacting him any longer.

Eventually you ended the call, holding the phone to your ear for a couple of moments after it was over.

You sighed, letting it drop onto the bed. You flopped back in tandem, staring up at your roof.

Life really was just one big joke, huh?

Although, you wished you understood what the punchline was.

✧ ✧ ✧

You stared at Iwaizumi’s LINE profile a little longer than you should’ve.

It’d been a couple of hours since you’d ended your call with Tooru, and you’d only just worked up the courage.

In your defence, you hadn’t been planning on this. You’d expected to have a very different phone call with a complete stranger, deciding from a handful of phone conversations as to whether or not they were trustworthy enough to live with.

But there you were, about to call The Iwaizumi Hajime.

It’d be fine, right? That little heartbreak had happened well over a year ago now. It’s irrelevant. And you’re well and truly over it.

Not that the thought of calling him didn’t make you feel like you were about to throw up from nerves.

God, why did it feel like you were about to sit an exam?

No, you weren’t going to let your anxiety get the better of you. Not when your education was – sort of – at stake.

With a heavy sigh, you clicked the little call icon and held the phone up to your ear.

The ringing sounded like a death march.

“Hello?” Iwaizumi’s unmistakable voice crackled through your speaker.

Yeah, you definitely felt like you were about to throw up. “Hello.”

The line fell silent.

You bit your lip. Maybe you shouldn’t have done this. Maybe you should’ve just lied and told Tooru that you’d already worked out lodgings. Sure, there’d be a last-minute scramble to get something in place before your parents caught wind of your little lie and—

“How are you?” The words were a little gruff, a little awkward.

This was going to be a very long conversation. You could feel it in your bones.

“I’m alright,” you said, trying to keep your voice as level as possible. “How about you?”

“I’m doing pretty good,” he said. There’s something different about his voice. Maybe it was a little deeper than when you’d last spoken? Or maybe you were imagining it.

Truth be told, you can’t really remember what he sounded like.

“That’s… good to hear,” you said, a paltry attempt at an implied olive branch.

“Yeah, uh…” He cleared his throat. He was probably scratching the back of his neck as he spoke. You hated yourself for even assuming. “Things have been going well.”

A long silence followed. A very painful silence.

A silence, you realised, that you had to break.

“What are you studying?” You asked. A nice, neutral question.

“Exercise science.” The response was immediate. Was that… relief in his voice?

“Oh, really?” You blinked.

“Yeah,” he said. “You sound surprised.”

Your mouth hung open for a moment, searching for a response. But nothing felt adequate enough. Did you really sound surprised? Why did you feel the need to defend yourself?

“I mean I…” You bit your lip, frowning. “I don’t know, I just… wouldn’t have picked that for you.”

Did he just chuckle? You could’ve sworn you heard a chuckle.

“What would you have picked for me, then?” He asked.

“I…” You racked your brain, trying to stitch together all the knowledge you had of the boy – no, the man on the other end of the phone. “I have no idea, actually.”

He distinctively chuckled that time. Damn the swell of pride in your chest.

“Why exercise science?” You asked, genuinely curious.

“It’s the only chance I have of beating Oikawa.”

It’s so instantaneous and ludicrous that you laughed.

“That… doesn’t make much sense, but okay,” you smiled. You were well-aware of the competitive edge that ran through their friendship. Good to see that hadn’t faded, at least.

“You’ll see,” he promised. “Just you wait.”

You chuckled in response as another silence settled over the two of you.

What was there to say? What did you want to say? It’d been so long that you weren’t even sure.

“So…” Iwaizumi said, voice unusually tentative. “Oikawa told me you’re coming out here.”

“Yeah,” you nodded. That’s right. That’s the whole reason you were calling him.

“That’s a big move,” he marvelled, as if he hadn’t done the exact thing he was talking about.

“I know,” you murmured. “I’m kind of scared.”

“What of?”

“I don’t know,” you admitted. Perhaps your lips were looser than they should’ve been. “I just… I’ll be in a whole new country. Alone.”

“I see.” There’s something comforting about his voice. Something stable. He’d always been a good listener, hadn’t he?

“And… it gets more daunting the closer it gets.”

“Mhm.”

“And I’m scared I’ll regret it.” There it was. The one fear that you hadn’t admitted to anyone else – not Amaya, not your parents, not Tooru.

“Why?” Iwaizumi asked.

“I don’t know, I…” You bit your lip, a frown settling on your face.

Now you’d given that fear a voice, you understood it less. Wasn’t the opposite supposed to happen?

“Do you regret moving so far away from home?” You asked.

Iwaizumi wasn’t Tooru. He wasn’t driven by the same insatiability. He had his ambitions, yes, but he didn’t break his back trying to reach for them. Maybe, just maybe, that meant he’d be easier to understand.

“Sometimes,” he admitted.

“Ah.” Not quite the answer you wanted to hear.

“But…” he sighed, “it’s been a good experience.”

“So… a net positive?”

“I’d say so,” he said. “I’ve had a lot of experiences I’m grateful for.”

“Right,” you nodded.

“I heard you got a scholarship,” he said.

“Did Tooru brag about that?” You groaned, running a hand down your face and bending over your knees.

“Sure did,” Iwaizumi chuckled. “Congratulations.”

“Thank you,” you sighed, biting back the urge to say, ‘it’s not a big deal.’ The last time you’d said that, Amaya had shot you quite the glare.

You swallowed roughly, looking down at your feet.

One deep breath, and it would be time.

“So…” you started, the back of your neck prickling. “Tooru said he’d spoken to you about me… potentially moving in with you?”

“Yeah, he did.”

Ah. Nice and blunt.

“Would you… be alright with that?” You asked, hands a little clammier than before. “I wouldn’t want to impose…”

“Well, I don’t like the idea of just dropping you in America with nowhere to go, so… the offer’s open.”

He sounded honest, at least. Not that you had reason to believe he would be anything but.

“Right,” you nodded. “Thanks.” You licked your lips, trying to stop your nerves from getting the better of you. “I appreciate it,” you added, unsure of how strange that might be to say.

“Not a problem.”

You couldn’t tell if he was lying or not.

“I can send you the information over email,” he said.

“What do you mean?”

“The lease and stuff like that. Also, the address so you can actually see where it is.”

“Oh, right…” you swallowed. “Yeah, that’d be useful.”

“Alright, I’ll get that ready for you.”

“Thanks,” you mumbled. “I need to discuss this with my parents, so I’ve got to go…”

“All good,” Iwaizumi said. “Talk to you later.”

“Yeah,” you sighed, lowering the phone from your ear and tapping the red ‘END CALL’ icon.

You tossed your phone at your pillow, watching it land with a muffled ‘thump’. It pinged with a notification – probably Iwaizumi asking for your email, you realised.

Fuck. Shit. Fuck.

You groaned as you flopped back onto your bed for the second time that evening.

What was going on? How had you ended up in this situation? Which cosmic force had it in for you?

Everything was so confusing.

One thing was for certain, though.

Amaya’s going to kill you.

✧ ✧ ✧

a/n: hhhhhh thank you for your kind words about the last chapter! this one is also unbeta’d but Oh Well

#iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi hajime x reader #iwaizumi x you #iwaizumi hajime x you #iwaizumi hajime #haikyuu x reader #tiny love

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