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anglingforlevels · 1 year ago

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Open House (Yandere House x Reader)

When people say the housing market is a nightmare, is this what they had in mind? (The story goes out to me because I’m trying to get an apartment and it is Suffering. Please pretend this count as yandere.)

CW: not proofread, unconventional captivity, swearing, I accidentally had too much fun writing Abby and forgot the point of the story-

Minors DNI

When you proudly had reached the saving milestone to buy a small house in the countryside, you had opted to spend some of that money on a real estate agent, figuring it was a good investment, hiring a Ms. Abby Bardot – who, over the phone, had insisted heavily on being called Abby rather than Ms. Bardot – who had twenty years of experience in the field.

Quite quickly, you realized that perhaps she wasn’t the most conventional real estate agent.

Ms. Abby, you quickly noticed at your first meeting, was all hand-wringing and nervous sweating, though she seemed sweet enough, having clutched a tin of home-cooked cookies in all shades of black and almost-not-black, and had heartily insisted you’d take as many as you’d like (which was zero).

She had insisted on bringing you to an open house for what she had called a hidden gem of a house, that it would be a private tour. To you, once she mentioned it would be at 1 p.m., it was quite obvious that “private tour” meant, “no one else has or will be showing up”.

Ms. Abby had also enthusiastically shown pictures of the place, pictures she had ready-at-the-go on her phone, presumably she really needed a buyer for the house.

“Ms. Abby.” You had said, interrupted with a small interjection of, Oh please, just Abby. “Ms. Abby, that’s not quite a house and more so a small manor. I went over my budget with you when I hired you.” Ms. Abby had quickly recovered from the rejection and puffed out her chest proudly.

“Why that’s the best part, this is within your budget!”

You had sent her a dubious look at this. “Are the pictures… How do I put this delicately? Are the pictures recent and unedited?”

Ms. Abby deflated so quickly that it almost felt impressive, almost urging you to clap as if it was a circus performance. Of course, it felt mean had you clapped at her dejected look.

“It’s well-kept, I assure you. These pictures are all recent, I’ve updated them every year for almost my entire career!” She said proudly, and you almost felt pity at the fact she didn’t seem to realize her own slip-up but instead paraded it around like a badge of honor.

Though, all-in-all you were charmed, and somewhat endeared, by the honesty. But not very much by the house at all. “I think I’d like to look at other options, it’s awfully big for just one person.”

“Ah, wait!” Ms. Abby said urgently. “Please, before we continue with other options, let’s first try out the open house this Friday.”

“Is this protocol, Ms. Abby?” Ms. Abby’s lips wobbled at this and… “Are you crying?!”

“No, I’m a professional. Real Estate Agents don’t cry, I’m simply sweating, is all.” Ms. Abby sniffled, dubbing her eyes with a handkerchief, presumably you were meant to believe her eyes were suffering heat stroke on this fine autumn day.

“…Alright, I’ll go to the open house. Just give me the address.” You eventually relented, if only to avoid seeing the pitiful sight of a teary-eyed Ms. Abby.

That’s how you ended up before a grand house out in the middle of nowhere, the closest town was an hour-long drive away. Forest and fields were most of the surroundings, which was why the house was in such stark contrast, standing as a sole presence, the forests and fields shying away to make room for it, leaving a vast vacancy around it, stretching on for at least fifty meters.

It really was a pristine house, when comparing it to the pictures, it seemed to match right down to the placement of every rock and plant in sight. As if someone had consciously placed each leaf and pebble.

The plants and trees of the garden donned vibrant colors despite the season. You wondered how often Ms. Abby came by, or if she had hired a crew for maintenance, as you could not spot even the slightest hint of dirt or spiderwebs.

The only thing that looked aged was, unfortunately, the “For Sale” sign.

It felt a little unnatural, but you chalked it up to currently being a display house, and thus not lived-in either. You took notice of the way the trees beyond the reach of the garden were withered and wrinkled, and the grass yellowy, dry patches, barely hiding the dirt beneath.

“Some more forest could really do this place some good.” You mumbled. You hesitated for reasons you didn’t fully understand before stepping beyond dead plants clinging loosely to your feet and entering the garden.

You felt a prickling sensation behind your eyes the further you traveled, the door felt so far when the weight of something cloyingly attentive seemed to drag you down as if to prevent your advances.

“You’re here!” A delighted Ms. Abby yelled out before the sound of pitter-patter was interrupted by a loud thud against the door that rattled the frame. With her energy dampened, a sheepish Ms. Abby appeared behind the front door, simply saying; “It opens the other way.”

Right, something attentive could only have been the attention of the overzealous Ms. Abby.

“Come in, come in!” She invited, all but pulling you stumbling into a most decadently, lavishly decorated foyer. From distasteful stuffed animal heads to the ruby red furniture and mosaic glass tables, it felt quite uncomfortable, all sharp angles and very little homeliness to it, like an ornate display of wealth rather than a welcome into a household.

“Not very welcoming, huh?” You commented, which Ms. Abby elected not to respond to, though the small “eep” suggested she had heard the negative impression.

Looking the room over it was impossible for your eyes not to rest at the centerpiece of the foyer: A huge painting above the staircase. A solemn-looking guy stared out into the air, curly locks framing his face. Old paintings always looked miserable, yet you couldn’t help but feel there was a glint of genuine misery in his eyes. Noticing your attention had wandered, Ms. Abby followed your eyes.

“Oh, that was an owner of the house who had it commissioned back during the Renaissance, they wanted it right here, in the heart of the house.” She explained though you couldn’t say you agreed to a decadent foyer being the heart of a house, and if it was, that wasn’t boding well for Ms. Abby’s already poor sales chances.

“I’ve never understood why someone would want to pay money to look miserable in a painting, like you’re paying for it, at least make yourself smile or something.” Your jab was met with Ms. Abby’s impressive ability to carry on like you had said nothing negative at all.

“You know, the owner claimed it was a Jan van Eyck-original too.” Ms. Abby said as if letting you in on a secret, or town gossip. “Really, we’ve had it appraised.”

“And the appraiser confirmed it was a Jan van-whatever original?”

“…The owner really loved art; you’ll see plenty of paintings throughout the place.”

So that was a no. And speaking of no’s:

“Listen, Ms. Abby, I don’t exactly have the budget for a big house, as I already said. I especially don’t have the kind of budget that the kind of person who’d commission an artist to paint them for their foyer would have.”

Abby laughed nervously. “Well, you see, the value’s dropped as I mentioned. We haven’t been able to sell it for a long time, so the price just kept falling.”

“Right. But even so, it can’t have fallen that much.”

At this, Abby avoided eye contact, wringing her hands before, after a big breath, blurting it out. “The person in the painting was the last person to own the house.”

…

“Is this place built on top of an oilfield or something?”

Ms. Abby laughed a hearty if a bit shrill, laughter, before sighing and mumbling. “If only.” She clapped. “But! This is a charming house, why, let me show you the many rooms!”

“Ms. Abby, have you ever considered a field outside of sale?” You asked dryly but nonetheless followed along, eager to leave behind the painting, as you felt watched. The house consisted of many sprawling hallways, enough to almost make one dizzy, and you struggled to remember where everything was.

The house had many rooms, none of them particularly inviting, reading more like a historical display room lacking any warmth or heart (and perhaps even worse, any semblance of renovation despite old age), and all absolutely clustered with trinkets, knickknacks, and in the case of the walls, paintings – leaving very little free space.

It really did read like a historical display, as some rooms seemed older than others, suggesting partial renovation must have been done on some of the rooms. You’d like a word with whoever had been in charge of that lackluster, nonsensical effort.

Perhaps the lack of replaced furniture or renovation was why the house periodically seemed to creak and moan in odd ways, at times you almost confused it as Ms. Abby groaning or sighing, only to realize it was the sound of the house itself.

As for Ms. Abby, she remained undeterred regardless of how many snide remarks you made, which you had to commend her for, though the charm you initially had felt from it was quickly wearing off. Ms. Abby actually seemed increasingly happy, humming to herself. She didn’t think the sale was going well, did she?

“How much of the house is there left to see, Ms. Abby?” You asked, increasingly impatient and tired, having been dragged through an unreasonable number of rooms, which inexplicably, almost all were bedrooms (and yet, you had yet to see more than a single bathroom).

“Well, we’re still missing a couple rooms like the kitchen, oh! I know, how about the master bedroom since you’ll be spending every night there.” She said with a beaming smile.

“That’s awfully optimistic, Ms. Abby.” You noted, at this you received a good-hearted chuckle.

“Oh, this place is too lovely to pass up on, I think it likes you – it’s a match made in heaven. If you don’t like some of the features or decorations, it’s easy to change those, so it would be a waste not to live here.”

“I can’t imagine a house as empty as this holding much affection, and I’m not up for a big project.” All you wanted was a small but cozy house, a simple place. You felt exhausted just thinking about the amount of work you’d need to pour into a house like this to make it feel like home.

“Well, it’s perhaps not an easy house,” Ms. Abby admitted, her cheer at this point an unshakeable force, as a sense of confidence seemed to have sprouted in her. “But that’s why when that rare fit comes by one must take the leap and hold onto it.”

You’d feel insulted by the suggestion you were a good fit for this distasteful and unpleasant house, had Ms. Abby not already shown herself as incompetent but well-meaning. You simply sighed, giving up the conversation, figuring you’d find another real estate agent when you came home.

“Well, take me to the master bedroom then.”

Ms. Abby led you through the foyer again, the bedroom apparently at the other end of the house. Your eyes were drawn to the painting once more, its eyes felt more sunken in than before, shadows forming beneath, to which you tiredly sighed. “Me too, buddy. Me too.”

The master bedroom seemed to be at the stopping point to the sprawling hallways on the right. You were just aghast at the fact you had gone through another set of sprawling hallways, you wondered who had come up with the confusing layout of the place.

Ms. Abby tried to imitate a trumpet to build up suspense but trailed off after you shot her an impatient look. After a weak cough, she simply said “Tadaah” and opened the door.

You stopped up, your right foot hanging in the air, about to cross into the room. A sense of foreboding filled you; it was a bit different from the first time, however. The prickling sensation you felt and the cloying attention, it felt smothering, less like a shove away and more like… Being held in place.

Ms. Abby waited patiently inside the room, not commenting on your hesitation, though you had been snarky and displeased the entire tour, so perhaps this just seemed like more of that. You swallowed and ignored the pressure as you put your foot down and entered the room.

The air felt different here. You had hoped the odd sensation would disappear if you just carried on, like when you entered the house, to begin with, instead, it worsened. The air clung to you, terribly heavy and sticky. It took you a moment to actually focus enough to realize Ms. Abby had spoken, so when you finally snapped back to reality, Ms. Abby was standing in the hallway.

“-tively spellbound already. I’ll give you some time to look around and get acquainted together, one-on-one.” And then she closed the door in your face. The room was, oddly empty, compared to every other room. Nothing but a big, red bed, the empty walls that you could’ve sworn were further away when you entered, and that feeling of being watched, lodging into your skin like stitching.

Nothing except an almost empty room that didn’t feel empty enough.

That’s it. Ms. Abby had officially used up all her pity points, you were leaving. You opened the door, a tad more aggressively than what was perhaps called for, but Ms. Abby was nowhere to be seen in the hallway.

For how annoyed you were with her at this point, you found that you missed her company as you walked down the hallway, nothing distracting you from the odd sounds of the house that seemed to have increased. It felt as if the floor beneath your feet moved and rumbled slightly, the velvety carpets uneven and bumpy, as if walking on something breathing, something living.

You wished that Ms. Abby had given you the floor plans, as you struggled to remember how to return to the foyer through the hallways and occasional rooms you had to cross seemed to hold no real rhythm and didn’t feel as if it obeyed any rules about directions.

At one point you could have sworn you turned back, only to be in another room than where you had emerged from originally. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, you found the foyer again. Even in your rush to find the door, your eyes were drawn to the painting, though you continued to rush by it. In your haste, it almost looked as if the painting’s colors were smudged.

You attempted to open the door but found it didn’t budge. It was an odd choice to lock the door, but you were certain that was the reason, it had to be. A locked door was no issue from the inside, but even after hearing the click of the lock, the door didn’t budge when you attempted to open it.

You attempted to kick, pry, tear, and even throw your body weight at the door, but with no luck.

Settling in the foyer after your final attempt at prying the front door open, you huffed, out of breath. You laid on the stairs, trying to settle your heart and pulse, when your eyes landed on the painting again.

…You rubbed your eyes and sat up, thinking what you had seen was owed to your tiredness and the upside-down angle, but no. The painting really did look smudged. Like someone had blurred colors and borders together, the hair’s vibrant color having lost its radiance.

And the mouth, it was oddly smudged between the lips, that it almost gave the impression of a mouth being pried open.

…

No, that was silly, you were being silly. The painting was smudged out, which was already creepy enough on its own, or rather, the house was already creepy enough on its own – your mind was just working overtime and was making up new things to get scared over.

“Well brain, if you like overtime, I guess I’ll have to put you to use and think of an escape. But you don’t have a union, so it’s unpaid hours for you, I’m afraid.”

If the front door was a bust, then you’d find a window. You struggled to recall any windows on the ground floor, but surely there had to be some. Or… That’s right! The kitchen, it had a glass door. You never got around to seeing the kitchen, having mainly been shown the upstairs so far, but you recalled Ms. Abby mentioning it back when she had given her pitch for why you should show up.

You hadn’t been on the left side of the house, at least not on the ground floor, so you figured that was a good direction to begin, in your search for the kitchen. You opened the door, urgency in your steps, only to find you weren’t in an unfamiliar room.

Instead, you were back in the empty master bedroom, which somehow felt much more crammed than any of the other rooms. But… That didn’t make sense. The master bedroom was upstairs, you had fought through a confusing hallway to find the foyer, so this… this didn’t make sense at all.

The air felt oppressive in the room as if your heart would be forced to a halt from the sheer weight of it, like a physical presence. This time you were sure that the walls were closer than they had been before. A bed table had been added next to the bed, and the part of you still delusional enough to hope thought maybe it meant that Ms. Abby was still around. As if this was an elaborate prank.

You tried to swallow despite how dry your mouth felt, your heart hammering painfully against your chest. This was ridiculous. You slammed the door open again, the door shaking on its hinges. Beyond the door, it revealed a hallway, but even if the hallway was confusing, you had been through it twice by now, you could do this, you could find the kitchen or a ground-floor window.

Hurrying along the hallway, it felt as if the floor and walls shifted and moved. Were you dizzy, or was this actually happening? The restrictive air of the master bedroom followed you, as you dragged yourself through.

“Huh?” you furrowed your eyebrows when you opened one of the doors. You were sure this was the one you had gone through before, but the room behind was unfamiliar. Cold dread filled you as a horrible thought crossed your mind.

No, no, no. You ran to the next door but behind it was another unfamiliar room. Were the layout… Changing? Your hand trembled as you tried to open a third door, and you felt like crying when all it revealed was the master bedroom again.

A lamp now stood on top of the bed table. Were new things going to be added each time you returned to the room? You thought back to the cramped bedrooms Ms. Abby had so cheerfully shown off. You weren’t sure what to make of it but felt sick all the same.

“I don’t have time for this.” You had to snap yourself out of it. You could spiral and panic later, but for now, you needed to get out. So, turning on your heel, you returned to the hallway. You’d go through each door that didn’t lead to the master bedroom, hoping to somehow find your way downstairs.

You almost cheered audibly when you finally saw the staircase, rushing to it. Once again, as you passed it, your eyes were drawn to the painting.

The painting no longer looked the same as before, the person it had been long erased by smudged and changing lines. You couldn’t tell what it was changing into but felt your heart race with familiarity all the same.

The mouth was a gaping hole by now, outstretched awkwardly. You thought it might have been a smile, but it looked much more like a pained grimace to you.

You only took this as further encouragement to get out of there.

When you failed to find anything of use, you realized there was one room that you seemed to always find. So, as counterintuitive as it seemed, you walked upstairs again, and as confusing as the changing layout was, it didn’t take you long to find it.

You saw the familiar bed, the bed table, the lamp, and the newly added clock on the wall (which didn’t seem to be working) and closed your eyes for a moment. You took a deep breath. And then you decisively walked in to grab the lamp, shivering a bit as you brushed against a much-too-warm wall.

If you couldn’t find the kitchen or a window on the ground floor, then fuck it, you’d find one up here. Whatever broken bones or bruises you’d get from the fall, you’d accept. Finding a window upstairs proved much more doable, as one would line the walls every now and then.

You threw the lamp against the window and braced yourself for impact.

But nothing happened.

The lamp fell to the floor with a hollow thud. When you opened your eyes, you found not a single scratch on the window. So, you tried again. And again. You tried punching the window, earning nothing but a stinging fist.

Yet you continued. At some point, it became more of a tantrum, an expression of your desperation colored in violence, than an attempt to escape. Hitting the window, kicking the wall. “Why-“ you hated this house. You hated it. Hated, hated, hated it. You just wanted to leave. Your ears rang, whether it was from your headache, or the way the house’s groans and creaks had grown in severity, you didn’t know, didn’t care, couldn’t care.

Already unsteady on your feet, your final kick caused you to lose balance entirely.

Stumbling and falling onto the floor, without realizing it, you found yourself by the stairs, and face to face with the painting. Your blood ran cold as you stared into your own lifeless eyes staring down at you from above.

Quiet had fallen over the house like a blanket, only the slow rumble throughout the house bellied any activity. In the heart of the house rested a painting, donning a toothy smile and a certain glint in their eyes.

A satisfied Ms. Abby removed the “For Sale” sign out front and drove away with a hum.

#yandere #yandere monster #yandere exophilia #yandere x reader #minors dni #not proofread #yandere house #written in an hour without any planning #and it shows lol #does this count as yandere or horror? or is this just a really weird house-complaint

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nottswitch · 9 months ago

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london boy

am I in my lover era? probably, but am I ashamed? no, not really. but just a warning, I won't even try to commit to posting this often. literally just a burst of inspiration (and taylor swift).

london boy by taylor swift as inspiration sirius x muggle!reader warning: prolly nothing, it's just fluff wc: 2,2k

From your very childhood up to your late teens your parents really liked bringing you to London with them from time to time. It was a truly beautiful city to be a tourist in. You’d been there so often that you felt like some sort of an expert. You could recite the history of any major landmark, just point at, say, the Tower, and one could hear a whole lecture from you about the fortress, the prison, the ravens, all the good stuff. You got cocky at times, thinking you could easily become a tour guide. Your friends back in your hometown rolled their eyes every time you even mentioned London, and the level of your excitement grew every single day throughout the month before you finally moved there.

Turned out, London wasn’t so great to live in. At least that’s what you thought on your first day, when you paid thrice the price you expected to pay for the cab taking you from the airport to the hotel. Then, the hunt for a rental began. The hotel started to get expensive day by day and soon enough you really lost your spirits. You didn’t have enough money to pay for a room and a real estate agent, so you resorted to looking through tons and tons of newspapers, hoping that an advertisement of a one-bedroom would at some point catch your eye. It wasn’t working as well as you expected, so one gloomy rainy afternoon you found yourself just walking through a random neighbourhood looking at houses and thinking that cooking some hot soup on your own stove sounded really nice at the moment. You realized that your exterior was pretty miserable for someone who couldn’t hold in an excited shriek right after buying a ticket to London last month. As if to confirm your assumptions, a sudden laughter disrupted the cacophony of raindrops hitting the ground and wind howling between the branches of nearby trees.

Oh, god.

“You aren’t from ‘round here, right?”

A motorcycle rolled from behind you along the roadway. You continued on your way, thinking it was just some creep who noticed your vulnerable state and decided to, well, be a creep.

“Hey, hey, ma’am, you don’t have an umbrella and I do. Pretty sure I win.”

“Ma’am? Really?”

You stopped at last to see who had the audacity to just ride up to you like you were their longtime friend.

“Bet that’s what you think us Brits talk like, foreign girl.”

The rider took off his helmet and you saw what was probably the best sight you had a pleasure to witness in the entirety of London. The young man was truly divine: his dark hair barely reached his shoulders and was a bit messy from the helmet; he had a stubble that was too short to be called a beard yet, but it was getting there; when he smiled, you could see small dimples forming on his cheeks. You felt stupid staring at him like that but couldn’t help it at all. With his stunning looks, the obvious accent you immediately took notice of sounded even more charming.

“Alright, not a talker, I see.”

The man stood up from his vehicle, pulled out a kickstand so that it wouldn’t just roll down the street and walked up to you, pulling up the collar of his leather jacket to shield his face from the rain.

“You said you had an umbrella.”

Kind of stupid of you to say, but you couldn’t really make up anything else that wouldn’t give out your infatuation.

“Just like that, huh? Could at least ask my name, you know.”

He didn’t wait for your response, holding his hand out to you.

“Sirius.”

You shook his hand, although yours was already pretty numb from the cold, and introduced yourself as well. You had to say something at that point because you started to look weirder and weirder by the second.

“That’s… an interesting name.”

Oh, come on. This is all you have?

“Bit rude, darling. What did you think it was?”

“Like… Matthew?”

The man laughed, just like you heard him laughing minutes ago. He wasn’t taunting you, no, on the contrary – he was rather amused by your mild naivety.

“Oh shit, do I look like a Matthew? I’m gutted, I have to say.”

You couldn’t help chuckling at his words. The rain didn’t feel so bad anymore, now that you had someone to share it with.

“Hop on. I have to get you to a pub, or else you’ll turn into a bloody icicle.”

He helped you get on his bike and soon you were riding straight through the streets of London with your hands wrapped around Sirius’ body. You felt it was a wee bit inappropriate for someone you met, like, five minutes ago, but you couldn’t say you didn’t like it. What is more, you expected raindrops to become some small annoying mosquitoes who would relentlessly bite your face during the ride but surprisingly, it didn’t happen. It almost felt like you actually had an invisible umbrella above you, because you glanced at a sleeve of your coat and it had become much drier than it was before.

The pub Sirius took you to looked like one of those places you saw on TV when the setting was supposed to be the UK. Lots of wooden furniture around, lightbulbs hanging from the ceiling and emitting warm and rather dim light. In the corner you saw an old record player with a small TV on top of it. You saw it as a symbol of modernity overtaking the old school, which epitomized London itself, but decided not to voice your thoughts in order not to appear as a nerd.

“Fancy a beer?” Sirius asked, leading you to a large counter.

In your mind you would much prefer some tea to warm yourself up, but the stranger was already too kind for you to make any extra demands of him. So, you just nodded and let him have free reign over the type of beer for you.

“We come here with my mates sometimes,” Sirius explained, having made an order while you made yourself comfortable on a bar stool.

“That’s nice.” You felt a bit awkward and out of place, but Sirius didn’t seem like the shady type, so you felt more comfortable with him than you would have likely felt with anyone else. “Do you watch rugby here?” You gestured towards the TV.

“I mean, if it’s on…” Sirius tried but failed to hide a chuckle. “That’s what the rest of the world thinks of us English lads, huh? That we hang at pubs and watch rugby all day?”

“To be fair, you took me to a pub.” You felt slightly embarrassed but attempted not to show it.

“That much’s true.”

You took a small sip out of a glass mug of beer placed in front of you. It wasn’t that bad, to be honest – a bit too bitter for your personal taste, but you could see yourself finishing the whole thing.

“Is this a British thing, beer in the afternoon?” you asked, looking at a huge grandfather clock behind the bar and remembering that it was, in fact, only midday.

“I guess, but I’ve always thought of it as a me thing.”

You held your mug in front of your face so that Sirius wouldn’t notice a huge smile forming on your face. You found everything about him irresistibly attractive – his voice, his mannerisms, his whole presence was alluring in a very authentic kind of way. It was obvious that in front of you he wasn’t pretending, he was just being himself.

“How did you know I wasn’t from here?” You finally had the courage to ask the question that had been pestering you for a while.

“Oh, it’s obvious,” Sirius replied, taking a swig of his beer. “You can always tell, it’s just how us Londoners are wired.”

You couldn’t really retort.

“Are you on holiday, or…?” Sirius went silent, letting you fill in the gap.

“I moved here a week ago,” you explained, feeling a very annoyed expression taking over your face. “Been trying to find an apartment but no luck so far.”

Sirius frowned a bit, thinking about something.

“I reckon I could help you, darling,” he finally told you with a playful smirk on his face. “I’d have to ask you for something in return though.”

“Oh, sure, I’ll pay!”

And you were ready to, because you had heard from someone that word of mouth was actually the best way to find an apartment on a budget these days. It’s just that you didn’t have this mouth before.

Sirius just grinned in response.

“Hey, that’s on me.”

He stopped your hand as it was reaching into your purse to take out your wallet and pay for your beer.

“Really?”

“Well, I dragged you here, so it’s only fair.”

Afterwards you stepped out of the pub to see daylight again. Fortunately, you discovered that it stopped raining and the sky was of a much lighter gray than before. Sirius caught up to you and stretched out his arm, wrapping it around your shoulder. You didn’t mind at all but were still quite stunned because, well, a teenager in you woke up and started internally screaming from this handsome stranger’s closeness.

“A nice weather we have here, darling. Which is super convenient as I don’t prefer driving drunk.”

Sirius looked like someone who would gladly drive drunk, you thought, but instead simply asked about the bike.

“A friend will take it,” he gave you a rather nonchalant reply, already headed somewhere to your left, with your hand now in his. “Come on, London doesn’t wait.”

“What if I have plans?” you tried to retort but your feet still carried you after Sirius and you weren’t going to stop them.

“Really? You just moved here, can’t find a flat and you have plans? Don’t believe it.” Sirius didn’t leave any room for objections as he was absolutely right. “Come o-o-on, darling, I know you want it.”

And for god’s sake, you did.

—

“So… Is this the part of the day when we say goodbye?”

All of a sudden you felt a wave of sadness coming over you. This day turned out to be truly magical and the last thing you wished for was for it to end. Sirius showed you everything, and you meant everything. He had his ways around the city that you would never even think to take, but they worked wonders, almost like some kind of portals transporting you from one place to another (but of course, it was just Sirius). Soon you could take pride in having explored pretty much all the central boroughs from inside and out. You, once again, had a very tourist-y experience of eating fish and chips in Hyde Park, and Sirius showed you an amazing little Chinese place where you promptly had dinner. You couldn’t have been thankful enough when he told you he would take it upon himself to look for an apartment – sorry, a flat – for you, but when you tried to give him some cash, he adamantly refused, so you were left wondering what he meant when he said he would ask for something in return. But most of all, you couldn’t really understand why he would do anything for you at all.

“I guess it is…” you mumbled, wishing with your whole heart you were wrong. But it was late, the sun hid behind the horizon hours ago and your eyes became increasingly more and more itchy.

“Well, we’re meeting tomorrow, so… Not so bad, huh?”

Sirius didn’t seem tired in the slightest, so you decided to just fire away and ask the question that had been swirling in your mind for the whole day.

“Why are you doing all this?”

“What do you mean?” Sirius raised his eyebrow and, judging by the look on his face, thought you were making a joke.

“I mean, you saw me on the street and just… took me under your wing, I guess. I wouldn’t have all this experience without you, London boy. And this apartment thing… It’s too generous. You don’t have to.”

“I know I don’t have to.” Sirius had the widest smile on his face. It was captivating and you didn’t even notice how you started smiling yourself. “But I want to, that’s it, darling. I really, really want to.”

His hands kept yours warm while he spoke. You had a sudden urge to do something you might or might not have regretted in the future. You stepped closer to Sirius, getting up on your toes and pecking his cheek ever so slightly, as if you were afraid to scare him away. Then you leaned away, staring at his face with worry in your eyes. Sirius slowly ran his fingers along his skin, where your lips just were, like he couldn’t believe what happened. Then, much to your surprise, he got closer and before you could realize it, your lips met his. They were a bit chapped, but the pleasure they brought you couldn’t have possibly belonged on planet Earth.

“I fancy you, foreign girl.”

Sirius pulled back and looked deep into your eyes. His gaze was so tender that you understood that from now on, London wouldn’t be such a bad place to live.

my masterlist

#— witch’s works ☾#sirius black x reader #sirius black x fem!reader #sirius black x y/n #sirius black x you #sirius black fanfiction #sirius black imagine #the marauders #the marauders era

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whimsijoy · 5 days ago

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fake plastic trees

a/n: so i fear this has been brewing in my docs for too long and i actually hate it but its my longest fic yet + i’ve been wanting to write a song fic (if u can even call this that) for so long. eeeek!!!

content warning (?): not a happy ending (but maybe this is part one), canon level gore, reader breaks a promise, fake identity that’s barely used, steve becomes a real estate agent

wc: 3.1k

— ˚✧₊⁎ˍ̮ ❝᷀ົཽ⁎⁺˳✧༚

Hawkins, Indiana - April 13th, 1985.

“I win.” You say, shoving your empty plastic blue tile holder towards Steve; his two tile holders are both filled to the brim with cream colored Rummikub tiles.

“You only play this game because you know I’m bad at it.” Steve sighs as he dumps his tiles back into the game’s packaging.

“You’re only bad at it because you treat this game like it’s time based.” You scoff out with a heatless eye roll before helping him pack up the rest of the tiles. “It’s okay. Someday you’ll be as good as me.” You say, shoulders shrugging softly before you peck a quick kiss to his cheek.

You stand up from the place on your apartment’s floor, and pick the Rummikub box up off the coffee table. You take it to the miniscule linen closet and put it next to your 3 other board games. Since it’s your apartment, you’ve bought the board games you’re best at.

You and Steve Harrington have somewhat similar backgrounds. His parents are home more often than yours are, which says something. Your parents are Travel nurses, so it’s common for you guys to only stay places for a couple weeks at a time.

With you still being in school, however… They’ve left you home all by your little lonesome since you were about 16. So, you’ve lived in a flat on the outskirt of Hawkins for about that long while your parents go and take care of people across the state, the country, whatever.

When you’ve turned 18, the apartment transfers into your name and you're responsible for the rent and utility bills. For now, you and Steve play house while they’re away.

“So, what sounds good for dinner? I think I have another few boxes of Noodle-Roni. We could make that.” You posit.

“Yeah, I could eat that.” Steve says simply, going to sit at the kitchen island. Usually you’re the one to cook. Steve isn’t very great at making things that don’t require a microwave. He’s still bummed about not getting into any college, or tech school that he applied to. It’s difficult.

His dad has been on his ass about not getting in anywhere, from what he’s told you. You genuinely feel bad for him, you know the feeling of being let down, you can also understand his anxiety of not knowing what the next step is.

You make dinner that night and reassure him to the best of your ability. You know his mother has always been kinder than his father. Maybe she’ll let him join the real estate firm, you try to tell him.

—-

Outskirts of Hawkins, Indiana - Jul. 5 - 3:13 AM

You’ve been up for the past 22 hours. Steve has been totally no contact, for seemingly no reason. You had both left for work the previous morning, and he never came home.

You know that while it makes money, scooping ice cream at the mall is not that demanding of a job. You don’t think it’s to the point where he would go completely AWOL. You’ve recently been informed about what the Upside Down is, and you're not completely sure it’s real.

But, you’ve also stored the tidbit that you can’t dream of things you’ve never seen before in the back of your mind since you’ve learned it. You don’t think that the night terrors that Steve has acquired could have emerged from his everyday life.

You’re outside on the back porch, watching the last of the fireworks from the night. Each explosion makes your flinch and blind hard, but the explosion of lights in the sky are too vibrantly addicting to go back to bed. It doesn’t help that your missing boyfriend has you anxious to the point of losing sleep. Well, it hasn’t been a full 48 hours, you think, so you can’t file a report quite yet.

You’ve at least put your pajamas on and washed your makeup off. You figure that if you get ready for bed, soon enough your body will crave it. The nicotine and heat from the cigarettes disproves that theory, but you just need him to be home

When you’re close to tears, that’s when the landline rings. You don’t even bother fully ashing your cigarette, you just set it in the ashtray for it to finish burning.

You rush to the handset on the wall and bring the receiver to your face, smushing the bright red plastic to your cheek, hoping for something. Anything.

“[Y/N]?” You hear a familiar voice croak down the line. Oh, you could punch him.

“Steve? Is that you? Are you okay? Where are you? I’ll pick you up.” You say through the phone. You try not to let your voice shake. You know that your concern is tangible. It tastes like tobacco.

“Yeah. Yeah, it’s me. Um.. I’m at Starcourt. I don’t think I should drive.” You hear it come through the phone. You’re already grabbing your purse off of the stool and nodding. He’s slurring his words which usually means one of two things, but you don’t think he’s drunk.

He's different when he is. You figure he’s gotten beat up again (which feels worse than him being drunk), and this is his first chance to get to a payphone. You sigh. “Yeah, no problem, Steve. I’ll be there in a bit. You better explain to me what happened.” You say before placing the phone in the cradle and rushing out the door.

–

Starcourt Mall, Indiana - 3:32 AM

You definitely broke some traffic laws to get here, but that doesn’t matter. There was barely anyone on the roads anyways.

You park haphazardly in the parking lot. Your car isn’t even in a parking space, and the engine is practically still running as you grab your everything. Purse, keys, etcetera. You throw your car door open and stand, looking across the carpark and smelling the oppressive weight of the smoke.

You look at the blinding, flashing lights of different emergency service vehicles until you spot Steve. Half of his face is swollen, beaten. This is worse than Jonathan, bordering on worse than Billy. You slam your car door shut with more force than you’ve ever used before as you sprint towards him, sitting at the end of an ambulance.

Once you're in front of him, you have your arms tightly around him. He smells of sick, blood, and sweat. Very little hints of his shampoo and cologne are left behind under his pungent smells, but he’s here. At least he’s in your arms.

You only shed a few tears, the nauseatingly sick feeling in your stomach neither worsening or abating. You have no idea what’s been done to him, and you don’t know how he feels. All you can keep doing is holding him, and rubbing into his back gently.

You finally pull back and wipe your eyes, checking him over. You frown at the sight of the swollen half of his face. You flash his coworker a soft smile and wave, as composed as you can manage before doing a more thorough checkover. You stroke the sides of his neck gently, your thumbs stuttering at the feeling of the injection mark.

“Are you ready to go home?” You ask. You don’t know where else he’d want to go, but you feel he’s probably been dragged through enough crock loads of shit in the past few days. You just want to make sure that he’ll be okay.

“Yeah, Mhm.” He sounds. You give him your hands to help him as he hops down from the edge of the rig, and you rub his arm. You miss the way hair lined his arms. You smooth the frazzled strands out before looking in between him and his coworker.

“Do you need a ride home?” You ask her softly. You know that you’re probably not leading with the best impression right now, and you don’t know her, but you also don’t know how she’s getting home tonight.

–

ɐuɐᴉpuI 'suᴉʞʍɐH - Feb. 25, 1987

“You have to go, Steve. You need to keep them safe and you know I can’t–”

“Stop that. Stop it, because you know I won’t, and… and I can’t.”

“Steve, I promise. I promise I will hold this down, and not do anything drastic or.. or unexpected. You can come back, and everything. You have to get the kids through that gate and onto home ground, and then you can come right back here.” You plead. You don’t make promises you don’t think you can keep.

He gives you a dismayed look, but this time it’s genuine. You know the expression all too well. Brows pinched and jaw slightly slack, but mainly in situations where you've decided to tease him, or something of the sort. You give him a peck on the cheek, albeit guilty, before running towards the danger. Before the very thing that has been targeting Hawkins for the past. Too long. All you needed to do was keep it waiting, but focused.

A loose cannon, aren’t you?

It hadn’t even been 15 minutes that Steve was gone. He ran back to the rendezvous spot to find it empty. Concrete-esque flooring, with occasional meaty vines strewn about. You and the older chapter of the Party had deemed it the safer part of the Upside Down last spring.

But you’re not where you agreed. Steve knows you wouldn’t just run off for the hell of it. His brain automatically seems to figure out what happened, and it’s the worst possible answer. Either way, he’s come to realize that you're gone. Permanently.

He heavily considers staying down here and meeting your assumed fate as well, but he knows he can’t. He has people to please, but he doesn’t know how he’s going to upkeep all of it. He thinks he can.

He meets Robin and the Party at the gate alone.

—-

Hawkins Laboratory, Indiana - Mar. 8, 1987

You’d finally been pulled out of the upside down a week ago. You’d been hospitalized on some different floor of the lab, rehabilitated to a functioning member of society (kind of), and now you're sitting in front of some government officials, signing papers that say your existence in Hawkins never happened.

“Quick question, if I can?” You ask one of the men. Both are dressed in crisp suits, white collars buttoned to the top and the black tie nice and flush to the crease.

“Of course, ma’am.”

“Something similar to this happened a few years back, as I’m sure you know. But.. with that kid.. You guys just said the body was incorrectly identified. Why can’t you do that with my situation as well?” You ask softly, placing your hand under your chin as you look at the manilla folders strewn about the desk.

“Your situation is a little different than his, and also having the federal government incorrectly identify two bodies in the same small town in a 4 and a half year time frame could get some eyebrows raised. It’s better if we do it this way.” He explains calmly, sliding a cream colored folder right in front of you. There’s a name type-written on the top, and it’s definitely not yours.

SMITH, CHRISTINE.

Fitting for your birth year, but not much else. They’ve given you a backstory to memorize by 5 P.M. tonight before they transport you to Nevada. In the meantime, they’ve retaken everything. License photo, passport photo, even a photo ID and resume for the job you're supposed to have come next week. It’s all a lot.

—-

It’s odd, really. To think of seeing you again. Steve had thought it to be impossible. Every time he had thought the opposite, he had to remind himself that; that’s grief. It can do crazy things to a person.

He saw how Joyce acted in 1983, nobody in Hawkins could have missed it. But after losing you, he understands her. He hates to say it, or to think it, but she was lucky. Will came back, and the Byers were able to move away from Hawkins. Away from flesh eating underground beasts.

There are so many explanations that have run through his brain, to try and explain as to why you're not here anymore. For a while, he figured that the 3 TBIs were starting to catch up to him; make him think incredulous thoughts to explain why you weren’t (or were) in front of him.

Now there’s no sign of you. A nice funeral was hosted, talking about your different accomplishments, your life. There's a thick gravestone with your name, birthday, and assumed death date on it in the cemetery 2 miles east of Hawkin’s Memorial Hospital. Steve used to visit there a lot.

Your car was impounded a week after, your apartment was cleaned by state workers. Everything you owned is now in a GoodWill a town over.

—

Reno, Nevada - Aug. 23, 1997

Southwestern summers have always been sweltering, for as long as you’ve lived here. You shove the gas nozzle into your car, and squint away from the blaring sun. You drive a measly car, a 1989 Toyota Corolla. Lamest car on the market, you’ve always thought.

Over the last 10 years, you’ve grown accustomed to being quiet, timid, secretary Christine. You rarely bat an eye when some character on TV says your name, or if it’s brought up elsewhere. It’s easy ‘cos you don’t know anyone here that could say your name in an intimate way.

You watch as a newer model car pulls up to the gas stall next to you. You see a bumper sticker with Harrington Real Estate inscribed in black, bold letters plastered on to a side window. Hm.

You don’t bat an eye. You’ve gotten good at that. Every time you think of Steve, it doesn’t end well. You feel a gaping hole open in your chest and then it’s hard to remember much past that. Usually there’s some kind of intoxication involved, and considering that you’re just trying to get gas and then get home, it’s not an option tonight.

From what you remember, Steve, while the love of your life, isn’t the brightest bulb in the shed, you fear. You’ve changed since you were 20 years old, as he has, so you hope he doesn’t stare at you too hard. You hear the sound of both the driver side door open, and the passenger side door open. You get a glimpse of a woman with mousy brown hair that falls to her collarbones, a fringe, a toothy grin when she wants it, and bright blue eyes.

If you didn’t know any better, you’d think that they’re together. But, you know it’s an aged Robin. Now, you know you’re a little more screwed because she’s a tad more perceptive. Way more perceptive, actually.

You feel 4 eyes boring into your skull, and you try to pay no mind to any of them. You pull the sunglasses off of the top of your head and rest them on the bridge of your nose with shaky fingers. You can hear Robin pull Steve aside, making him lock the gas nozzle in place before leading him into the gas station.

Your tank finishes filling shortly thereafter. You put the nozzle back in place and realize that you have twelve dollars and sixteen cents in change. That’s enough for basically 4 boxes of Marlboro Reds, minus tax. You’re running low, anyways. You take the receipt from the gas pump and make your way inside of the convenience store portion of the Chevron.

As you walk into the small shop, you place your sunglasses back on your head then, voices carry.

“Do you seriously think that was her?” A deeper, hushed voice asks. You can hear them perusing the candy aisle.

“You know I wouldn’t throw the idea around lightly.” The female voice defends. “I mean, you know how you were after her… death? Can we even call it that now? It’s officially named the situation, now. Back to the point, you were a flaming hot mess.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know that, Robin. That’s why.. I don’t know. It’d be awful to get my hopes up.” Steve says, closer to the cashier.

“And then, could I get four boxes of Marlboro Reds? Please.” You say kindly to the attendant, who still has your cash in his hand.

He gives you a morose response as he grabs the proclaimed boxes. You fidget with the fancy ‘C’ initial necklace resting in between your collar bones, watching as he places them in a frail plastic bag.

Once the plastic is looped over your fingers, you turn around to see him, and her standing right in front of you. You made eye contact with shocked brown eyes, then the blue ones.

This feels tortuous. You give him a small smile, like he’s a new person in town. A passerby. It makes you nauseous, teary, all of the above.

Fuck.

But, the government made it a huge deal that nobody could know what happened. Not a soul, no matter who could figure what out.

You give them a soft smile, like you don’t know them, and make your way out to your car. Would the government even know if you had one conversation with them? A final goodbye? Some closure? You don’t know, and no matter how bad you want to, you can’t dote.

You push the glass door open as fast as you can, and your stomach only drops further when you don’t hear it close behind you.

“Ma’am?” You hear a familiar voice call from the light grey concrete in front of the door. You’re the only woman out there, you know this gas station doesn’t have cameras (and if it does, fuck it), so you have to spin on your heel.

You face the man you’ve been pushed away from, and you see him eye to eye. You don’t know how to explain to him what happened, because you know you can’t. “Yes?”

“You… look like an old friend of mine.” Steve states, hand in his jean pocket.

“Do I?”

“Yeah.” He says with a nod. You can’t tell if the purse of his lips is pissed off or disappointed.

“That’s interesting.” You say, painstakingly slow as you step towards your car. “You gotta name?”

“...Steven.”

“Well, Steve,” his name feels so familiar on your tongue. Something like a meal from his pantry. “I hope you find your friend. I bet she misses you.”

“I’m expanding my business out here to Reno.” He says, a suave shake of his head. You watch as he pulls a slip of bright white cardstock from his wallet. “If you’re ever interested in selling your home… Call me.” He mutters. You take the business card and pocket it.

“You got it. I’ll let you know.” You say as you rest your elbow on the top of your car.

“Have a good evening.”

You climb into your car that you hate, and drive back home. You cry the entire way.

#steve harrington #stranger things #robin buckley #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fan fiction #steve harrington x you #stranger things steve #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington angst

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pixeldistractions · 1 month ago

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Lakefront real estate. Colette didn’t particularly love the water, but any home with prestige around here was situated on the deep blue shimmer of Lake Michigan.

Colette showed her clients around the most beautiful homes. She envied them. Nothing unrealistic even, but solid upper middle class, attached garages and granite counters and three and a half bathrooms. A home office with windows, and a desk that wasn’t also a dining room table…

Her heart broke a little every time she closed on one, thinking of the life she would never have and selling it to other people instead.

A kitchen with wide views, countertop to the ceiling. Not that Colette ever cooked, but she knew buyers liked the idea of gazing out at a spectacular landscape while washing their hands.

“Eh,” her client said. “There’s no formal dining room? We’re supposed to eat in the kitchen?”

“But wouldn’t you die for this bathroom?”

Her client smirked. “The window is so small, you can hardly see the view.”

“A walk-out balcony off the master bedroom? Out here, you can definitely see the view.”

“I don’t much care for being outside,” her client said.

Well, no, I don’t, either, Colette though, but that’s not the point. It’s the prestige. It’s the idea of luxury.

“I would have preferred a walk-in closet instead.”

“Okay, but just wait.” Colette led her downstairs. “This is the best room in the house. A two-story sunroom. Designer furnishings, and the seller is willing to part with them if you want to negotiate.”

“Huh, it’s a little small,” the woman scoffed. “And you can only see the lake in one direction?”

A room Colette would have died for, anyone would have died for!

“Well, for this budget, it’s the best on the market,” Colette said.

“Budget?” The woman laughed, offended. “You don’t know how much money I have.”

Colette was mortified inside. Not that she would ever show it, only revealing her bristly exterior. “I wasn’t implying anything,” she said. Even if, honestly, she had been assuming a lot based on the soccer-mom look and the ten-year-old minivan she drove in on.

“Huh,” the client scoffed. “It’s a no from me.” She took out her phone, tap-tapping some things she didn’t disclose. “I’ll call you,” she said, but Colette knew there would be no call. This woman would seek out another agent and she’d lost her commission.

Damn. She should have held her tongue, but her tongue had a zesty way of jumping straight out of her mouth sometimes.

Colette stayed to do a once-over one more time. She ran her fingers over the granite counter tops and designer fabrics and polished expansive windows. In the living room, she scanned the room for cameras—people had cameras everywhere these days—and seeing none, she took off her heels and lay down on the white plush rug, staring up at a vaulted ceiling, wooden beams, two skylights overhead with an ornate hand-carved wooden fan hung between them. The rug was so thick, its length tickled her neck, her ears, her bare naked feet.

God, to be fucked senseless on this rug, in this room, in this life.

No, she was not about to rub out a quickie. She thought about it, mindful that another agent might walk in at any time, which wasn’t entirely a turn-off, but it also wasn’t worth losing her license over. She thought about it, but she didn’t. Besides, the orgasm wouldn’t even be worth it if the rug wasn’t hers to keep.

She could wear the clothes and talk the talk, but at the end of the day, she still came home in her own ten-year-old SUV to her modest two bedroom townhouse on the side of town she billed “affordable, charming, the schools aren’t that bad…”

It could have been their life if Jordan wanted to play along.

She did so much for him, taking care of his problems over the years. She’d do even more if he would let her. They could really make something out of this family, if he wanted to cooperate. If he wasn’t so dead set on disagreeing with everything she wanted. He was just a handyman, but she wasn’t a total snob. She knew contractors could make big cash if they hustled right. They could have been a power couple, if he wanted it. They really could have made something together. A real estate business, flipping houses maybe. She’d wrangle the sale and he’d manage the contracting.

“I help,” he might say.

She picked out a wallpaper and he put it on the wall. He installed the oil rubbed bronze touchless smart faucet she envied and finally bought for herself, but he gave her the side eye while he did it. “Why does it have a handle if you never have to touch it?”

So he helped? Sure, he helped. But could he stop working for that stupid hotel and get a salary gig with a construction firm and make twice as much money a year, which couldn’t be hard to do making hardly above minimum wage?

“I don’t want more money,” he’d say.

“If you say, ‘money can’t buy happiness,’ I’m gonna kick you in the nuts,” was her answer.

Then he would laugh at her like she was joking, but she was not a humorous woman.

For all his talk about chasing dreams, he never cared about helping her chase hers either.

So she drove home from work in her ten-year-old SUV to her two-bedroom townhome in the suburbs, and she stopped to buy a strip of scratch tickets on the way.

She knew it was financially stupid, but part of her always wondered, what if?

— “why are you here? #2: little sparks catch fire” part 6/6

lot credits: “Modern Family Home” by LacyLena on the gallery — gorgeous! I wonder if Colette will ever get to own a home like this someday???

Next -> // WAYH #2 start // index

#ts4 #sims 4 #simblr #sims story #sim stories #colette #chapter complete!

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bilbobagginshome · 2 years ago

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A Deadbeat’s Journal 24

A Jotaro kujo x black reader fic!

Jotaro’s POV.

Leaving Samosa is almost equally as painful as leaving Y/n and I mean it because I’m her favourite. When Mom Faith invited me for dinner, I sensed that she knew something because as much as she cares about me, she cares more about her daughter’s well-being. And I was right.

“So, How’ve you been coping alone now that y/n is gone?” Mom Faith asks while cutting through her plate of lasagna.

“It's been sad, I can’t lie. I call her every day but I guess having a housemate as chaotic as she is bound to fill a hole when she’s gone.”I calmly reply though honestly, I keep reviewing my sentences like an editing app.

“I mean it should be, your girlfriend is gone.” Grandma Rhoda adds with a knowing chuckle. Well, at least we aren’t beating around the bush and honestly, It’s a hefty weight lifted off my chest.

“That was fast. Y/n did anticipate this but honestly, I still underestimated how quickly you’d find out.” I chuckle back. The less they think I’m phased, the better.

“I mean, walking around with matching rings is definitely a mark,” Grandma replies with a smirk whilst pointing at my koi. At this point, I’m avoiding heavy eye contact with Mom Faith who's staring me down with the most expressionless face I’ve seen. Do I look like that when other people are around me?

“So what are your intentions with y/n?”She questions. Isn’t that a tough one? Well definitely saying that I want to marry her within the year would turn her neutral face to a scowl in an instant. My intrusive thoughts want me to say a dirty joke but that will end with thrashing from them.

“I want to be with her for as long as she’ll let me,” I say while looking at her. She likes assertiveness, this would make her see that I’m serious.

She nods with a small smile. Jackpot.

“I’d ask that we keep this conversation between us. I don’t want y/n think I’m prying too much into her business.” She requests. It seems fair, considering she’s been a bit of a peeping tom throughout y/n’s life. Plus I’m grateful she did not request more information.

“Though I am very happy she ended up with you. She needs someone to keep her happy and you may be what she was missing.” She ends with a wider smile, her tone now much more softer despite its seeming monotony. What a surprise, it seems my charms have even been able to win her over and I simply nod in response. After serving French vanilla and a wonderfully made salted caramel cake made by Grandma, we head to the backyard and talk.

I was genuinely enjoying my time listening to Granny’s to the point that I never realised how late it was. And when they insisted on me staying, I decided that my cold, loveless home would be better than their warm, jovial household. Besides, I need to put some things in order like turning the house into either an Airbnb or simply placing a caretaker.

* * *

The house is very lonely. Even as I gave the real estate agent, courtesy of Mom Faith, the house keys, he could tell that I didn’t want to be there anymore. I see the couch and remember countless Netflix marathons. The kitchen shared multiple times we’d cook beside one another. Colourful ceramic pots, throw blankets, and artwork littered around the area after she saw the apartment for the first time and described it as ‘the place where all life dies’ seemed even less saturated. It would be best if I let a travel agent handle the AirBnB business.

The yacht is decently sized. At first, I thought buying such a large yacht was useless but after staying in it for a few days, I realise now that the seller wasn’t trying to get a cash grab. The kitchen faced the ocean, but to be fair almost all parts of the yacht now face the ocean and come fully equipped with an oven, cooker, and microwave plus a booth on the wall on the side that could comfortably have a sleeping Y/n. The bedroom too has a wide window that sees the ocean and the bed that comes alongside it can comfortably sleep, me, y/n, and Samosa. Though the room is a tight fit and only has a 24-inch smart TV, It's better as you have access to a shower and toilet.

I always find myself reading some of her books. She gave me the hobbit and said that I’ll heavily relate to Bilbo Baggins and no one outside my mom has made an accurate prediction of how I enjoy my hobbit lifestyle. I mean I bought a yacht because I couldn’t stand the thought of going around the coasts with a backpack and a dream. Like, imagine how tiring that would be. Gandalf should have just let Bilbo stay home.

Occasionally I’d check my bearings, ensure I’m not going astray and sometimes when I’m really bored I stop to fish. It's been three days and when I see the inklings of Zanzibar I almost jumped for joy like a stranded cruiser. They say the first three days are tough on your own but this was intense. I almost thought I got my bearings wrong and kept checking my compass. The signal out here is horrible at times and can’t use google maps for that . Besides, who uses google maps in the middle of the ocean. I quickly park my yacht where all the others are and take my backpack.

The host left the keys in the flower pot besides the gate, which was appreciated and thus I began surveying the one bedroomed household. Its cute, with furniture that doesn’t stary from cream and brown with a large bookshelf that I’m slightly envious of. By tomorrow I should have recouped and headed to the research group based nearby.

Third person Narration.

When Jotaro arrived at the research centre , which was bigger and definitely busier given the space, he slightly clammed up as he got off the Tuktuk. The building was beautifully designed with glass floor to ceiling walls despite being only a single story and the top was crafted to replicate the blue tides of the oceanside nearby. Definitely a far cry from the wooden box back home .

After clearing his throat , he approached the receptionist inside and after stating his business, was given a visitors pass and redirected to an acquaintance he began conversing through in email while back home. After politely greeting a few people who cared to acknowledge his presence, he knocked at Dr, AbdulSwahib’s door.

“Oh welcome, here I have a seat , would you like some tea or perhaps coffee?” AbdulSwahib greeted with a smile and a warm handshake to which he gladly accepted a cup of tea.

AbdulSwahib or as he would simply like to be referred as Swahib is a short man with greying hair and a prominent bald spot that reflects the well lit room like a polished silver saucer. He keeps his beard well trimmed and always dons a buttoned white lab coat and trousers with black loafers which complement his light brown skin. His round face shows little of his ageing body aside from crow marks at the sides of his eyes and the thick, silver framed glasses.

After sipping a nice masala tea with cookies which Swahib insisted he should try courtesy of his wife , they got to business.

“I read your research on the natural cleansing methods of the ocean and their various misconceptions that arose from that and I ‘d like to say your solution is one of the most practical, cost effective measures on preventing the increasing issues of climate change and pollution of the ocean.” He began with a congratulatory note. Jotaro returns with a small smile in appreciation and slight embarrassment over his work for the past 2 years.

“I appreciate that , however I’m more interested to hear your dispute over my first thesis of the starfish, you said you had come across groundbreaking discoveries that may affect the dating of my work.” He responds. A while back , the biologists at Zanzibar claimed that the discovery of a seemingly extinct starfish had been found and thus after research, they questioned whether the new information provided with Jotaro’s ideas of starfish evolution can be disputed . Mind you , this won him his first award on marine research at a time he was still considered a rookie.

“Well , yes , see , I think that it's best for you to see this for yourself. We have captured only one but the rest of the colony is reachable, though further .” He says as he stands up. Jotaro finishes his tea and rises alongside him and while getting to the aquarium within the end of the hall, Jotaro simply earns curious glances while Swahib is warmly greeted . When they arrive , they see a group of white coat individuals, most likely students given their hold on their notepads and pens as they all try to get a look at the starfish that has hidden within one of the makeshift caves of the large semi circular aquarium. Jotaro , however, is stunned by the variety of fish and other sea creatures and plants and due to the aquarium’s size and dim lighting, the cream walls seem to reflect the blue waters of the aquarium .

“I should at least acknowledge how stunning the display is.” He compliments.

“Thank you, though it seems a bit vain to keep them here, we try as much as possible to keep them from experiencing little. That’s why we only have very little fish.” He says before kindly requesting the students for some space to see the starfish .

Jotaro is led to see a simply ugly creature to say the least. It most certainly seems like an ancient species , with a dirt grey colour but larger than anything he’s ever seen . Its stubs look like tiny wounds poking around its body and despite the ame, this starfish has an irregular star shape that looks more like a splutter of dirt on a clean surface, Yet , Jotaro was fascinated, asking radio fire questions of its origin , feeding habits , its breathing method and what not . After a full lecture of what they have found of the starfish which leads to an almost hour-long lecture where Jotaro and students write down almost every detail the short man shared, they are advised by the cleaning crew to leave the aquarium for its daily cleaning.

“That was a wonderful talk despite how impromptu it was.” Jotaro says in a fascinated tone after Swahib disperses the group of aspiring marine biologists to their mentor.

“Well, this old man should be good for something now that I’m almost retiring .” He politely responds . As Swahib shows him around the rest of the building , Joatro seems more at ease , chuckling whenever he makes a pun and attentively listening to Swahib’s theories on the nature of the elusive starfish. Soon, he is led to the canteen , where lunch is currently taking place. They are served mashed potatoes, a kale-spinach fried dish and steak lathered with gravy sauce. The lunch lady cuts him a larger portion because ‘He seems to have the appetite of two grown men’ and they sit next to Swahib’s much younger colleagues, similar to age with Jotaro,

“This is Jotaro Kujo, a humble young man who has come to see the grey baby.” He introduces Jotaro as they sit down .

“Oh, Pleasure.” One of the only two women seated at the table of seven says before biting into her mashed potatoes and gravy.

The others simply respond the same with a smile and Jotaro returns the pleasantries.

“So , Jotaro, I read that you are receiving another award for your recent research.”One of the male colleagues, Hassan, inquires.

“Really ? I know nothing of the sort.” He responds calmly , while cutting his steak up to smaller portions.

“Haven’t you received an email for the upcoming marine appreciation gala held next year?” Suleiman curiously asks.

“I am yet to check my email, I haven’t been really accessible for a while.” He responds ,while he enjoys eating the food before him.

“He’s circumnavigating Africa on his own , on a personal research tour. How dedicated.” Swahib interjets with a tone Jotaro could only detect as proud.

He is greeted with praise and admiration for his job and after finishing their lunch , he explains to them his goal and ambitions once he reaches the final destination. This thus sprouts of further discussions on him writing an introductory textbook for aspiring marine biologists or just enthusiasts of the subject . Afterwards , they excuse themselves back to their duties, promising to cheer him on when he receives his new award.

Swahib leads him back to the entrance of the building and says

“I’ve never met a biologist willing to navigate his faults on a subject he perceived as an expert in.”

“I enjoy learning , and I feel like this career is filled with daily new revelations that break our current ideas . I find that even more exciting.” He replies while rubbing the back of his head.

“It's comforting knowing that the next generation has such an open minded perspective in being wrong. I’m glad I met you before I retired.” Swahib calmly says with a smile.

“I’m also glad I met you. I read an article of yours way back when in a barbershop and it influenced me on becoming a marine biologist. I could feel your enthusiasm for orcas through simple texts and felt that marine biology may be a worthwhile pursuit.” Jotaro admitted in a nostalgic tone.

“Well I’m glad you liked it . I remember very little of what I wrote but remember how my colleagues teased that it seemed like a love letter to those majestic beasts.” Swahib says with a wide smile that shows off his father’s smile.

Swahib lightly hugs Jotaro in appreciation for ‘Seeing a washed up old man’ and calls a tuktuk for him,

By the time Jotaro reaches home, he is called by his mom

“How is your first destination going?”She questions after usual telephone pleasantries

“Surprisingly enjoyable, I might have even found a new research project to write about.” He says while lying on the reclining couch.

“That was fast , Hold on, your dad wants to talk to you .” She responds while handing the phone to Sadao

“Good evening Jotaro, I hope you had a pleasant day.” He lowly says with his usual blase tone.

“Good evening dad, It seems you are home more often.” He calmly replies.

“I’m growing older , can’t do the same thing you youthful ones are constantly doing ,” He responds.

“So what’s up,” He asks while drinking a cup of water.

“I heard you got with the l/n girl . I wanted to say congratulations for that .”

“Does everyone already know we are dating? No wonder y/n seemed reserved on telling anyone.” He mutters in slight annoyance.

“Well, you told Rhoda , who told Joestar, who told Holly , who excitedly told me.” He replays the stream of gossip with a slight chuckle.

“Though she does seem like a handful so you better tie the knot soon. I remember her being a bit flighty when younger.” He adds

“Dad, she’s not a possession.” He says in a warning tone.

“Of course , I didn’t mean it like that . I ‘m just happy you found someone after years of solitude and hope you don’t lose her through a long distance relationship.” He responds lightly despite the slight tension.

“I won’t.” He reassures.

“So how’s work?” Sadao changes topic.

And after a thirty minute talk discussing the day alongside his dad and mom, he cuts the call and heads for a well reserved shower and makes a small salad to eat with his ordered smoked salmon. After the energy boost , he goes over his notes and begins formulating a new research project based on the starfish who has been affectionately named Kanzu for its shape.

Then he calls y/n when comfortably on his bed which is way softer than the one in the yacht and calls y/n.

* * *

Y/n spends the first of her free time outside work attempting to create a schedule. Her mom’s counsel “Aingiaye mwituni, atarejea na kuni.” (The person who goes to the forest will come back with firewood.) echoes loudly at the back of her mind and she spends the entire time cooking , cleaning and basically making herself busy. When Patience and Abdul get back they find a freshly cooked meal, the aroma of the simmering dish still floating around the house and a bored to death Y/n watching tv once again.

“You’ve got to get out of your boring ass funk. You’re in a whole new country and rather than explore the culture you sit around watching Portuguese dubbed content rather than going out there , conversing with actual Brazillians and internalising their culture.” Patience muses as they finishes up their broth, their sides of the mouth oily from drinking it straight from the bowl.Ahmed simply looks down at their friends table mannerisms before adding to the thought with a smile

“Yep, so that’s why you should go for an in-class Portuguese lesson.”

“No and be surrounded by white people who only know ‘oi’ and say how much they love Brazilian culture.” She responds, nose scrunched simply at the thought.

“Pot calling kettle black. Don’t knock them out because they go a step further and admit their failings and learn when all you’ve done since quitting is attempt at conversing google translated portuguese.”Patience muses with a smirk as they rise to help Abdul wash the dishes.Abdul simply laughs at the call out and Y/n , slightly embarrassed stays silent

* * *

“Good morning class. My name is Ramirez and I will be teaching you the intermediate course of the CELPE-Bras Intermediate course certification. Since this is an immersive course throughout class I do not expect anyone to speak english throughout the lesson. Failure to do so would be a strike. Consider it like football, and if you get to the red cut, consider yourself expelled and your deposit non refundable.Now let's get to it.” He said with a blinding white smile.

Y/n , though dating, is well aware that her teacher is attractive with his golden brown eyes that sparkle when the sun bounces off their reflection just right, 6 '0 foot with an eye for more delicate wear like his current wear, a linen shirt and khaki shorts. Tanned, light skinned with diamond studded earrings and with a buzzcut that if you know, you know. Overall, Y/n’s type down to his Nike Jordans and when he catches her , smiles at her and all she thinks is “I need a wallet sized photo of Jotaro within my vicinity”

The first class goes on well, she almost stumbles a bit and yet he’s the most attentive teacher, guiding her calmly when she’s unable to articulate her questions well and seems to enjoy her more introspective questions, After the three hour session, she is entirely content and despite her worksheet assignment and the presentation due date on Friday , she’s happy with the lesson.

One of her classmates a blue eyed American with blonde curls that make her look like a barbie doll says,

“Isn't he dreamy? Dear lord when I saw him walk in, I almost fainted. Completely forgot I had a man till the end of the lesson.”She says in a very classic Southern accent.

“He sure is handsome.” Y/n responds with a slight smile as they walk out of the building.

“Handsome? he’s the kind of guy that is straight from a wattpad fanfic.” She sighs out.

“I don’t think your man would like to hear that from you.” Y/n responds with a chuckle.

“He’s bi, he’d ask for a photo of Mcdreamy instead.”She responds with a smile . Y/n laughs at that and as they converse in the parking lot about small details in her life , they spot their stunning professor walking out of the building,briefcase in one hand to his Aston Martin.

Britney wolf-whistles in acknowledgement and as he looks back , notices them and heads to their direction.

“Good afternoon ladies. I hope you enjoyed today’s lesson.”He says with a smile.

“Was a lot more bearable with you as a teacher.” Britney says flirtatiously and he simply gives a close smile and turns to Y/n.

“What about you Mrs Y/n , did you enjoy it?”

“Yes I did . I appreciate your attentiveness to me despite my many questions. And it’s Miss not Mrs.”She says with a small smile.

“Oh , I noticed the ring and just assumed . I’m sorry for misinterpreting.” He says with a bigger smile.

“No, it's fine.”

“Would you, you both I mean, like a lift?He questions while looking straight at Y/n.

“I’ll be dropping this pretty little minx home.” Britney responds with a smirk.

“Anyway , see you ladies tomorrow. And Mrs Britney. Tone down the flirting in the middle of class.” Ramirez warns light-heartedly.

“Will consider!” She cheerfully shouts back as he walks into his car.

Once the swoosh of his car leaves the sparsely parked lot ,she turns to Y/n and says with a knowing smirk,

“I think wonder boy has a thing for you.”

“Girl please just take me home.”

A shorter chapter. This one I’m not really liking it but whatevs.

prev masterlist next

#jjba #JoJo no Kimyō na Bōken #jojos bizzare adventure #blackreader #jotaro x reader #jotaro kujo #canondivergent

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credithubaus · 10 months ago

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pointcookrealestate · 2 years ago

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diamondestateagents · 3 years ago

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queenshelby · 4 years ago

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Unexpected Circumstances (Just Friends Part 7) - Cillian Murphy Imagine

Featuring: Cillian Murphy x Reader

Warning: SMUT

Words: 5789

Notes: I have decided to include one of the requests I received in this series as I didn’t know how to best write it as a standalone at this point. I think it makes sense as part of this series as trust between Cillian and the Reader has been clearly established. I might still write a stand-alone piece as well incorporating the same request as this is the sort of Smut I like. So, stay tuned for that!

------

The Letter

It has been five weeks now since Cillian and you admitted your feelings for each other and things were going great.

Some days you couldn’t believe how lucky you were to have found a man like him, someone who cared not only for you but also your son Max.

Cillian adored Max and Max enjoyed Cillian’s and Cillian’s children’s company.

Cillian would often pick Max up from preschool when you had to work late and prepare dinner for you and Max. Max thought that this was fantastic since you were a terrible cook.

But, despite this, it was sometimes difficult to arrange dates when you both had children to look after. You both tried to work around this issue as best as you could but, realistically, you only managed to have three sleepovers per week, mostly when Cillian didn’t have his boys. This was when he came over to stay at your house and you always hated when he had to leave.

After all, you were madly in love, a feeling which was unfamiliar to you. You wanted to be around him all the time and whenever you weren’t together you missed him.

As expected, you received some backlash from strangers due to your age gap but you tended to ignore the frustrating comments. They didn’t know you and they didn’t know your relationship.

The comments you received from your friends were nothing but supportive and even your grandmother thought that Cillian was good for you, much unlike your previous partners.

You still haven’t told your parents about your relationship, but your sister was aware. She followed Twitter quite eagerly and loved Cillian’s TV Show hence the reason you told her.

Your sister was concerned that your father wouldn’t approve of your relationship due to the large age gap, but that wasn’t a problem you were ready to face yet and little did you know that you were about to have bigger problems than that coming your way.

Bad news was about to hit you like a freight train. It was 10am on Friday morning. You were working from home while Max was at preschool as the doorbell rang.

It was unusual for the postman to drop off letters personally. Usually that meant that you had to sign for your letters, which was never a good sign.

You thought that it must be a vehicle recall, or notice of some sort. But it was worse. It was a letter from your real estate agent advising you that you will be required to vacate the premises within 30 days.

You could not believe it. It was difficult enough for you to find this townhouse as a single mother in an area where the schools were decent enough. You were always on time with your rent and never missed a single payment. You had no idea why you had to move out.

You called the real estate agent immediately and were advised that the owner is returning from America and requires the premises at the end of the lease term. There was nothing you could do.

The real estate agent advised you that there were no suitable rentals in the area within your price range but that they were willing to give you a good reference should you find something else with a different agent.

You were devastated. The last thing you wanted is to take Max out of preschool just after he made some friends. Furthermore, Cillian’s youngest son was attending the same preschool and it was a perfect arrangement for the both of you.

As you went on with the day, you put your non urgent work aside in order to search for rentals online as, all of a sudden, the doorbell rang.

‘Oh Cillian… I totally forgot’ you said as you opened the door.

‘You forgot our date?’ Cillian chuckled as he walked in the door, giving you a quick kiss.

‘I must be the worst girlfriend’ you said with some embarrassment. You never forgot a date with your boyfriend before. After all, it was what you looked forward to the most.

‘Relax, it’s fine Y/N’ Cillian said before noticing that your face was slightly flushed and your eyes were red.

‘Are you alright though? You look like you’ve been crying’ Cillian said as he ran his hands over both of your arms. He knew that something was wrong.

‘Yes, I just had a very stressful and shit morning. I am alright now though’ you said as you walked into the bedroom to get changed, ready to go out for lunch.

‘Do you want to talk about it?’ Cillian asked from the hallway.

You took the letter which you received from the real estate agent from the sideboard in the hallway and handed it to him.

‘I’ve just been searching for a new rental but they are either too expensive or out of the area. But, I have found one in North Dublin and the schools there have halfway decent reviews so…’ you explained and, before you could finish your sentence, Cillian interrupted you.

‘The schools here are much better Y/N. I don’t think you should change Max mid-term; it will put him behind’ Cillian said.

‘Don’t you think I know this?’ you asked frustrated. You were still quite upset about having to move.

‘I will lose the enrolment as soon as I move out of area. Despite, I cannot drive backwards and forwards with work. I barely make pickup time now with the hours I am at the office’ you added just as tears began to build up in your eyes again.

‘Common, sit down’ Cillian said as he sat down on the bed next to you and wrapping his arms around you.

‘I might have a solution’ he said as he wiped your tears away.

‘Go on then’ you said, still sobbing.

‘You and Max could move in with me. That way, we could spend more time together and Max won’t have to change preschool and can start year one with Charlie’ Cillian suggested.

‘Move in with you? Cillian, don’t you think it’s a bit too early for that? We have only been together for 5 weeks’ you said.

‘Yes, but we’ve known each other for a few months now. Seems like a perfectly reasonable timeframe’ Cillian chuckled, making you laugh. You knew that he was being sarcastic. He always had a good sense of humour.

‘Coming from the man who just a couple of months ago didn’t want to settle down’ you smiled.

‘Well, that was before I got myself such a beautiful girlfriend’ Cillian said before giving you a passionate kiss. He could taste the saltiness from your tears but it didn’t seem to bother him.

‘You are crazy, you know that’ you chuckled after your lips drifted apart.

‘Well, you do that to me’ Cillian said while cupping your face with both of his hands.

‘We would, however, need to work on your cooking skills’ he added jokingly, earning him a nudge.

‘Very funny’ you said with a laugh.

‘Seriously though, what do you think?’ Cillian asked.

‘I think Max would really love this idea and I would love nothing more than sharing a bed with you every night. I am just worried that you will get sick of me after a while’ you said.

‘I don’t think I could ever get sick of you Y/N. Just your cooking’ Cillian chuckled before telling you that he loved you.

‘I love you too Cilly’ you said before kissing him passionately.

‘Is that a yes?’ he asked.

‘It’s a yes, thank you’ you said before pushing him back onto the bed.

‘The lunch reservation is at 1pm Y/N’ Cillian said as you hoovered over him.

‘Forget about lunch’ you responded just as you threw your t-shirt to the floor.

However, just as you were getting down to business, your phone rang, not once, but twice.

It was Max’s preschool and you knew that it was urgent.

You quickly returned the call and were told that you must pick up Max as he had a fall on the playground.

You got dressed quickly and drove to preschool to pick up Max. You were advised to go to hospital to see whether Max’s arm was broken.

Being cautious, you followed the teacher’s advice and took Max for an x-ray at hospital. Luckily, it was just a sprain which should resolve with some rest. Unfortunately, by the time you got to leave the hospital it was 6pm. You were there for hours.

Cillian suggested that you and Max come over to his place for dinner. You gladly accepted the offer and this allowed you both to talk to your kids about moving in together.

As you told them, they were beyond excited and Max was quick to arrange a sleepover for the following night.

You and Cillian agreed but, for a change, arranged a babysitter to look after your three boys allowing you to go for dinner and to the movies with your friends which was something you didn’t do very often.

Movie Night

The next evening, Cillian’s sister came over to watch the kids. This was the first time you met someone from Cillian’s family and she was quite excited to get to know you.

Apparently, Cillian had told her and his parents about you already.

After you chatted with her for half an hour, you both made your way to the restaurant.

Unfortunately for you, your friends had invited Jeremy, unaware of the fact that he continued to message you daily much to Cillian’s frustration.

Regardless of this, both you and Cillian were polite as you sat down across from Jeremy and your friends.

‘What did you guys do with the kids tonight?’ your friend Amy asked.

‘My sister is looking after them at my house’ Cillian responded.

‘What about Max?’ she asked.

‘Max is at Cillian’s house as well’ you said, which is when your friend Amy slipped the news. You had already told her that you would be moving in with Cillian just before he starts filming again.

‘Oh well, better to get used to it. Living with 4 boys soon Y/N eh? That shall be interesting’ she said.

Her comment quickly raised a lot of questions, in particular from Jeremy.

‘You really are becoming a sugar baby Y/N aren’t you?’ he said sarcastically, causing Cillian to laugh. He tried very hard to take Jeremy seriously, but it was difficult.

‘A sugar baby? Is that even a word?’ Cillian asked.

‘You know what I mean’ Jeremy said.

‘No, please enlighten me’ Cillian responded.

‘Alright’ Cillian chuckled.

‘It’s none of my business Cillian, but why is that you actors have to get involved with women who are so much younger than you?’ Jeremy said.

‘You are right, it’s none of your business Jeremy’ you said harshly while Cillian tried hard to bite his tongue.

Your friends quickly changed the conversation after that but you couldn’t keep your hands of your boyfriend that evening simply to annoy Jeremy and Cillian played along.

‘I am sorry he’s been a tool’ you whispered into Cillian’s ear as you walked to the movies with your friends.

‘I find it very difficult to remain polite around him’ Cillian said.

‘I know’ you responded just as the theatre opened.

You took your seats and, to your frustration, Jeremy sat down right next to you, causing Cillian to get annoyed.

After what Jeremy had said to you and Cillian, you refused to speak to him and largely ignored him until the movie started.

About twenty minutes into the movie, you started to get rather bored. You couldn’t believe that you had to be there for another two hours. Who decided to choose a two- and half-hour movie in French, with subtitles? Of course, you did, without doing any research.

You looked over to Cillian and noticed that he was disinterested in the movie as well and stopped reading the subtitles. It was evident, he was somewhere in dreamland, probably thinking about how he could annoy Jeremy after his most recent insult.

Noticing your boyfriend’s disinterest in the movie, you reached for his hand, running your hand over the top of his gently. You had his attention now and he gave you a warm smile for all you could tell in the dark theatre.

Taking his hand into yours, you guided it on top of your thighs which is where it sat for a while. Not getting the hint, you arched back into your seat and guided his hand further up beneath your loose cotton skirt.

Whilst you couldn’t see much, you noticed Cillian turn his head towards you. Just as he did, you guided his hand further up your thigh while biting your lip. You tried hard for your eyes not to leave the movie screen.

He finally got the hint and squeezed your thigh gently before handing you your cardigan from your bag.

You placed the cardigan across your lap just as Cillian lifted up your skirt slightly beneath it, giving him better access.

You glanced to your right to ensure that Jeremy, who was sitting next to you, didn’t see what Cillian was doing.

Luckily for you, he was intensely focused on the movie although, no doubt, your boyfriend would have preferred if Jeremy knew what you were doing. After all, Jeremy had just insulted him and it wasn’t long before Cillian and you got together, that Jeremy had told him that he would like to get into your panties.

Just as Cillian’s fingers wandered up your upper inner thigh, you released a sigh and parted your legs slightly while making sure that your cardigan provided enough cover.

By the time Cillian’s fingers reached the apex of your thighs and touched your panties, they were already damp.

You were grateful that the theatre was so dark because your skirt was up to the top of your thighs and draped over Cillian’s hand which would otherwise have been clearly noticeable beneath the thin cardigan.

You were panting with desire, just from Cillian stroking and squeezing your thighs and running his hand over your wet panties.

You slid down a bit in your chair and spread your thighs even more. The adrenaline rush had your inhibitions going out the window.

You could hear a slight chuckle from Cillian as he noticed you pushing your body down against his hand.

Just in that moment, you felt his fingers sliding your panties to the side.

Within seconds, he dipped a finger inside your wet entrance, gathering some of your natural lubrication, then moved it upwards toward your clit.

You sucked in a breath through your teeth, hissing quietly. By that time, you both had completely stopped paying attention to the movie.

Cillian started in a slow rhythm, circling your clit a few times, then dipping down shallowly into your entrance, repeating it over and over.

Your fingers were digging into his forearm on one side and onto the armrest on the other.

Your hips were moving of their own accord as you were whimpering quietly as Cillian’s fingers moved in and out of you.

Suddenly, it hit. You groaned quietly, gripping boyfriend’s hand, pushing his finger into you even deeper and grinding your clit against the palm of his hand.

Your walls clenched around his fingers as your orgasm washed over you and you couldn’t help it but let out a shallow moan.

‘Are you alright Y/N?’ Jeremy asked, noticing the sound you made while looking at you with some confusion.

‘Yes, I am fine’ you said bluntly and with a deep breath while Cillian pulled his fingers out of you with a grin on his face.

You handed Jeremy your popcorn before rearranging your skirt and handing Cillian your cardigan. At this point, he needed it more than you as his erection pushed against the zipper of his jeans.

‘Follow me’ you whispered into Cillian’s ear before standing up and excusing yourself, walking past Jeremy.

‘Where are you going?’ Jeremy asked.

‘Bathroom’ you responded. You were still annoyed with him and he wouldn’t get anything from you but stern and short answers.

Cillian waited another minute or two before following you so that he wouldn’t raise any suspicion.

You waited for him in the front of the cinema with a big smile on your face.

‘You choose the worst movies’ Cillian said with a cheeky smile.

‘I have been enjoying it so far’ you smirked before taking his hand and pulling him towards the parents’ room.

‘Y/N, I don’t think this is a good idea’ Cillian said as you locked the door behind you.

‘Relax, it’s 10pm. No one will need this room until tomorrow. We will be safe. Despite, I know you, this won’t go down any time soon unless we get to it’ you smirked as you placed your hands on Cillian’s crotch before crashing your lips onto his with haste.

Without wasting any time, you unbuttoned his jeans and pushed down his zipper before running your hand inside his briefs and stroking his hard cock.

‘You’ve got ten minutes’ you said after breaking the kiss and before turning around, leaning forward over the wash basin.

Within seconds, Cillian lifted up your skirt and pushed down your panties before lining himself up with your wet entrance.

You smiled at him in the mirror as he gently pushed your legs apart and grasped the perky butt cheeks before him.

Cillian pried them apart and stepped forward. He was flush against you and you couldn’t help it but release a soft moan.

His cock slipped between your legs, and the head glided across your sensitive lips.

‘Fuck I want you so much’ you moaned as you pushed back against him in anticipation.

Without words, Cillian pulled back a little and then pushed up into your tight tunnel.

‘Fuck’ you moaned loudly as your walls stretched to fit his length inside you.

‘You got to be quiet’ Cillian whispered from behind you as he began to thrust in and out of you.

He gave you barely a moment to brace yourself before he gripped your hips and pulled back. His cock slipped out almost the whole way before he thrust his hips forward and dived back into your heat.

Cillian set a hard pace, knowing that you didn’t have much time together before someone would get suspicious.

You could hear his laboured breathing behind you as you held onto the basin tightly.

‘God yes’ you moaned quietly as the tip of his cock hit your cervix over and over again.

Cillian smiled at your reaction and reached down to grab your thighs. He spread your legs even wider. By that time, you were on your toes, with no leverage of your own.

‘Don’t stop’ you whispered as you could feel another orgasm build up in your stomach and, within seconds, your walls constricted around him.

You cried out a little too loudly, and your whole body shook as your orgasm slammed into you.

Cillian kept his brutal thrusts up as you rode out the waves of pleasure. Your legs trembled before him and he smiled as you whimpered with every thrust.

The contractions around his cock and your moans sent Cillian over the edge also and, shortly after you came down from your high, he reached his and filled you with his warm cum.

‘Fuck Y/N’ he moaned quietly as he slowly began to relax, his face resting on the back of your shoulders, kissing them gently.

After he came down completely, he pulled out of you and you could feel the mixture of his cum and yours drip down your thighs.

Cillian handed you a paper towel but you declined the offer and simply pulled up your panties.

‘I like to remember this for the rest of the night’ you grinned before giving him another passionate kiss.

Your comment earned you a chuckle but, deep down inside, Cillian liked the thought of knowing that your panties will be wet from his cum for the remainder of the night.

After making sure that no one was around, you left the room together and made your way back to the theatre together.

‘You’ve been gone for a while. Is everything alright?’ Jeremy asked as you sat back down next to him.

‘Yeah, I had to make a phone call’ you said just as Cillian sat back down next to you.

You both had a cheeky grin on your face as you watched the rest of the movie.

‘The movie was great, wasn’t it?’ your friend Alice asked as you left the theatre and Jeremy agreed simply because he knew that you chose it.

‘What did you think about the twist towards the end Cilly?’ she then asked.

‘Yeah, uhm…yeah it was alright’ Cillian said, not knowing what she was talking about.

‘There was a twist?’ you whispered to Cillian as you walked outside the theatre.

‘I think we missed the majority of the plot babe’ Cillian whispered back before taking your hand into his and following the others to the pub.

Jeremy kept starring at you and Cillian and you could notice the frustration on his face. You enjoyed it, a lot.

Later at the pub, Cillian received the usual attention from some young females. It always made you chuckle but it really annoyed Jeremy.

Despite the fact that Cillian enjoyed Jeremy getting annoyed, it soon became too much for him and, after about three drinks, you both decided to leave.

Getting Down to Business

You called a taxi and drove back to Cillian’s house.

‘It’s unbelievable’ you giggled sheepishly and slightly tipsy from the three gin and tonics you had earlier.

‘What is?’ Cillian asked, closing the door behind you.

‘All the attention you get from all of these young women every time we go out’ you said.

‘What can I say, it’s Tommy Shelby Effect’ Cillian laughed.

‘Hmm I think I get it’ you said and, just after this comment, you kissed him passionately just as his sister walked out of the living room.

‘Alright, I am going’ his sister chuckled.

You both thanked her for looking after the children and made your way to the shower. You both smelled like beer and popcorn.

Just as you got into the large shower together and were talking about the evening, Cillian couldn’t help it but complain about Jeremy.

‘You know, I am yours Cillian!’ you said as you ran your hands over his chest.

‘You are mine, are you?’ he chuckled in response to your comment which reminded him on his script for Season 5 of Peaky Blinders.

‘Yes…’ you whispered into his ear just before biting his earlobe gently while the hot water ran down in between you.

Cillian’s hands soon moved from your back down to your naked butt cheeks while his lips kissed the bare skin on your neck.

‘I love you Y/N’ he said in between kisses.

‘I love you too Cillian and I want you to fuck me as if you own me’ you whispered. ‘Take me the way you want to’ you added seductively.

‘You’ve been watching too much of this TV show’ Cillian said with a chuckle, referring to a new TV documentary series that you were watching on Netflix about BDSM.

‘It’s intriguing though, isn’t it?’ you asked running your hands over Cillian’s chest and down in between his legs. He grew hard almost instantly as you touched him.

Your face was inches away from his and you could see pure hunger and lust aflame in his eyes as you were stroking him gently. His warm breath fanned over your face like an aphrodisiac and the want in his eyes was intoxicating.

He remembered the last episode of the documentary quite well and grabbed your hair at the back of your head gently, causing the hot water to run down your breasts.

You bit your lip with excitement, fire building up in your eyes.

‘You really want to try this don’t you?’ Cillian asked, causing you to nod.

‘Alright’ he sighed with a smile and, with his free arm, he pushed you onto your knees almost instantly.

That’s it, exactly what you wanted.

He pulled on your hair, making you look up at him while you were biting your lips.

You suddenly felt a wretch in your stomach. Cillian wasn’t normally that forceful with you and you knew that, for him, it was a roleplay more than anything. Being with an actor clearly had its perks.

‘Is this what you want?’ he asked, causing you to nod again.

With his hand still firmly in your hair, he guided your mouth towards his hard cock.

You open your mouth willingly and, within one thrust, the head of his hard cock hits the back of your throat, making you gag.

You didn’t even try to pull away and he slowly and deeply began to thrust in and out of your mouth, giving your barely enough time to breath.

You gave into his rhythm as the warm water was running over your back.

‘God, your mouth feels amazing’ Cillian moaned, knowing that you enjoy it when he is talking to you while were intimate. You loved the sound of his voice.

Just as you got used to the sensation of being forced up and down his cock, he began to tweak one of your erect nipples with his free hand, causing you to moan around him.

‘Good girl, keep going’ Cillian said with a slight smirk as he toys with your nipple, pulling and rolling it between his fingers.

The pit of your stomach was set aflame and your thighs were slick with your juices.

With his cock in your mouth and your nipples being aroused, you are under sensory overload.

As he continued to thrust in and out of your mouth, you closed your eyes trying to concentrate on the raw pleasure that was radiating from your body in waves.

‘Look at me’ he demanded, causing you to open your eyes again and dig your hands into his thighs as he kept going.

‘That’s it’ he moaned, thrusting into your mouth a few more times before pulling you away from his throbbing cock and your mouth comes off with a satisfying pop.

Some small tears were running down your cheeks, your mouth sore from opening so widely and your hair was still in his hands. He roughly wiped away the saliva around your mouth and wrapped his hand around your throat gently.

You looked up into his blue eyes and wanted nothing more than for him to take you, fuck you hard.

‘Common, let’s take this to the bedroom’ he said as he began to notice the water getting cold.

‘Yes sir’ you winked, earning him a chuckle.

‘You defiantly are serious, aren’t you?’ Cillian said as you dried each other off. He was slightly out of his comfort zone but decided to play along as he could see the desire in your eyes. You were by far the most adventurous and kinky woman he’s ever been with.

Moments later, you made your way to Cillian’s bedroom.

‘I don’t think so’ Cillian said firmly as you reached the edge of the bed.

With his hand on your throat gently again and the other on your waist, he guided you towards the large reading desk in the bedroom.

‘Turn around’ he instructed and, as soon as you complied, he pushed you down onto the table.

Just as you your face leaned against the cold wood, he took both of your arms and secured both your hands behind your back.

Electricity shot down your spine as you tried to struggle out of his grasp teasingly.

You were completely under his control just as you wanted.

He put your two wrists wrapped around one hand and with the other, slowly traced a finger up your inner thigh.

You bit your bottom lip to keep yourself from moaning too loudly.

Cillian took his time, exploring every inch of your thighs and ass.

‘So sexy’ Cillian said as his fingers brushed against your wet folds, causing you to whimper.

He continued to run his fingers up and down your pussy, teasing to put his fingers in.

You whined and struggled against his grasp, your wetness started trailing down your thighs.

‘Oh god yes’ you moaned as Cillian slowly eased his fingers inside, scissoring his fingers as he went.

‘Shh’ Cillian said, knowing that you had to remain quiet with the boys in the next room.

Your mind went blank as pleasure shot through your nerves, spreading like wildfire.

Cillian’s fingers swirled around inside of you languidly, leaving no space unexplored and, moments later, he brushed against your g-spot causing you to jerk.

‘Stay still’ he said as he pressed his body down, immobilizing yours.

He knew very well that you liked to squirm when he reached your sweet spot as the intensity was too overpowering.

This time, you wouldn’t get away, no matter how hard you try.

‘Oh god Cillian, please’ you yelped, the feeling of his fingers on your g-spot being too much for you to handle.

But Cillian wouldn’t let you squirm away and you soon learned that you had to just give in, surrender to him.

But, just as you relaxed and could feel your orgasm approach, he pulled his fingers out of you.

‘Did I say you could come?’ he teased as he placed his fingers into your mouth, making you taste your wet juices.

‘No sorry’ you said, hoping that he would put his fingers back inside of you.

‘Sorry what?’ Cillian asked sheepishly.

‘Sorry Sir’ you grinned just before you ran your tongue along the length of his fingers.

‘Good girl’ he whispered just as he trailed his fingers back down towards your wet entrance.

Within seconds, they entered you again and continued where they left off.

You tried hard not to come right away and, after several more minutes, you couldn’t control it any longer.

‘Cillian please, can I come?’ you moaned, your walls already beginning to contract around his fingers.

‘No Y/N, you cannot’ he said, withdrawing his fingers once again, pulling your head back on your hair and kissing you passionately.

Just as he pushed you back down, you could feel him line himself up with your entrance.

Your hands were still pinned behind your back as he pressed the tip of his cock into you slowly. Your walls clench instinctively.

‘Don’t you dare come until I’ve given you permission’ he murmured into your ear as he pushes into you torturously slow.

‘I promise I won’t come without permission’ you said as you could feel Cillian’s body against yours and his hands gripping over your hands pinned behind your back and your hair.

‘Good girl’ he whispered as he continued to push inside you slowly until he was completely inside.

You tried to wriggle so you could adjust to his size, but Cillian held you in place. He slowly moved out until only the tip remained inside and thrusts back in deeply.

You moaned loudly into the table as he continued his rhythm, fucking you slowly but deeply. Your mind blanks, pleasure rocking through your body.

You could feel him tighten his grip over your hands as he slowly pulls out and slams into you, eliciting a yelp.

‘Yes, oh god, yes’ you moaned loudly as he began to pick up the pace, knocking you almost breathless.

Your moans caused Cillian to place one of his hands over your mouth gently. You were way too loud.

You felt like a wound-up toy, yearning to be released from the tension. With every thrust, you come closer to your orgasm. He's hitting you fast and deeply, but not enough to send your over the edge. You whine and whimper, weakly struggling against his body. You are so close, teetering on a cliff.

‘Please’ you moaned into his, desperate for your release.

‘Please what?’ Cillian asked as he thrusts in and out of you and removing his hand for just one moment to allow you to speak.

‘Please let me come’ you responded.

‘You will need to do better than that’ Cillian said as he thrusts into you even deeper.

‘I do anything, please’ you moaned, your walls beginning to clench around him.

‘Anything? Hmm, alright, that seems like a fair deal’ Cillian said picking up the speed.

With those words, you let go. Pleasure rocked through your body like a wave.

You tried to fight the feeling of falling and flying at the same time as your orgasm washed over you.

Cillian moaned at the same time as he felt your tight walls close around his cock and, with three more thrusts, he came inside of you.

You could feel his cock throb inside of you as your legs shake from the powerful orgasm.

Just as you both came down from your high, he slowly pulled out of you, causing some of his cum to leak out.

He released your hands and helped you up from the desk.

You turned around to face him and, with one of your hands, you reached in between your legs collecting some of his cum before licking it from your fingers suggestively.

‘I enjoyed this’ you smirked, causing Cillian to stare at you in disbelieve.

‘You are naughty, aren’t you?’ he chuckled just before giving you a kiss.

‘Yes I am’ you smirked before you both made your way to the bed.

By that time you were exhausted.

You curled up in each other’s arms and shared some gentle moments together.

‘I am looking forward to sleeping in this bed with you every night’ you said.

‘So do I’ Cillian responded, before turning off the light.

Morning After

The next morning, you got woken up by the smell of pancakes and three missed calls.

Your father had tried to call you to congratulate Max on his recent soccer medal.

You returned the call and handed the phone to Max while you joined Cillian in the kitchen for a coffee. Just as you were drinking your coffee, you listened to Max speak to his grandfather on speaker.

‘So how have you been Max?’ grandpa asked.

‘Good poppy, we are having pancakes’ Max said.

‘Mum made pancakes? Do they taste any good?’ grandpa laughed.

‘No Cillian made pancakes. Mum and I are moving to his house soon and then we can have pancakes every weekend’ Max said.

‘Cillian? Who is Cillian?’ grandpa asked.

‘Mum’s boyfriend’ Max responded, causing you to choke on your coffee.

‘Can you please put your mother on the phone’ he said.

To be continued…..

‘

#cillian murphy #cillian murphy smut #Cillian Murphy x Reader #cillian murphy imagine

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acreageproperty · 6 months ago

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atths--twice · 4 years ago

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How It Should Have Been

An AU in which Mulder never left after William was born. Life has gone the way it should have gone, the three becoming the family they deserved to be. But now, Mulder and Scully are headed back to work and they need to find someone to take care of their baby boy. Will they find someone they can trust?

This was an idea I saw in August of last year. It wasn't exactly an ask, but a tweet for which I felt a spark of an idea. It has taken a few months, but I have finally gotten there. It's sweet and how it should have been for them. No darkness, no alien baby, just a normal life with their miracle child.

As much as I loved the revival, Existence was the most perfect ending for the show; all of them together and knowing they would be okay. We could have been left with the knowledge that they were not being hunted and were now together as they always should have been.

Well, this is a little, "what if that happened."

Hope you enjoy it!

“Mulder…” Scully said, in a tone he knew very well. He smiled as he continued tying his tie and waited for her to come into their bedroom.

He smiled again as she walked in wth William in her arms, his chubby cheeks flushed and his bit of fair hair messy from sleep. He grinned at Mulder, reaching out for him, kicking his legs excitedly.

“Hello, my boy. How are you this morning?” he asked as he took him and kissed his soft head, breathing in his wonderful baby scent.

William laid his head on his chest, his little hands grasping at the knot on Mulder’s tie. Lifting his head, he tried to put his mouth on it, but Mulder stopped him with a chuckle.

“Hey now, none of that,” he said, his hand covering the knot, kissing William’s cheek and then lifting him over his head. He squealed with excitement, his body wriggling happily.

Bringing him down, he smiled into his eyes as he heard Scully sigh beside him. Looking at her, she shook her head and sighed again. He smiled, reaching out his right arm to pull her close and moving William to his left arm, gently rocking them both.

“I know you’re worried,” he said softly as he kissed the top of her head. “But… everything is planned, it’s all ready and-”

“I know that, Mulder. I do. I just…” She pulled back and stared up at him as she rubbed William’s back. “I’m worried about him. About how he’ll react and what he’ll do when we leave. Will he cry? Will he be inconsolable? I don’t…”

“Scully…” He set William in the portable crib in their room, a few books and toys inside to hold his attention. Walking back to her, he put his hands on her shoulders and moved them down to squeeze her upper arms. “William has met the sitter and he liked her. She was great with him. We both vetted her. In fact, she was triple background checked- you, me, and Skinner surprisingly.”

“Not so much so, considering how concerned he was when I was pregnant. Nor how much time he’s spent here recently.” She smiled and he nodded with a chuckle, thinking of the dinners and even some weekend afternoons Skinner had spent at their place.

William babbled in the crib, saying dada over and over as Mulder stared at Scully. She sighed and nodded, placing her hands on his chest.

“It’s going to be okay,” he whispered and she nodded again. She grabbed his tie and brought his lips to hers for a quick kiss.

“I need to feed him and then I’ll get ready.” She kissed him again, walked over to the crib and lifted William out of it. She kissed his head and left the room.

Mulder listened to her singing “Joy To The World” softly as she nursed William and he smiled, happier than he ever had been. Walking out of the bedroom, he went into the kitchen to double check that the bottles of breast milk were ready, the baby food they had started him on was labeled and measured out, and the numerous notes Scully had written were in order.

He made coffee, put bread in the toaster waiting to be cooked, and took out the jelly he knew Scully liked best. He checked to see if both of their bags were by the door, along with her breast pump, as she would need to pump at some point during the day. When everything was done, he went to the nursery, smiling at them from the doorway.

“I’ll take him, if he’s finished eating.”

“He is, but make sure you have-”

“The burp cloth, I know.” He smiled as he picked one up from the changing table and took William from her, making a silly face as he did. “How long have we been doing this, huh?” She looked at him and nodded with a sigh.

“I know. I’m sorry that I’m-”

“Hey, you don’t have to apologize. I completely understand, hon.” She stood up and walked close to him, smiling as he patted William’s back and she adjusted the burp cloth.

“I like when you call me that,” she said softly.

“I know you do,” he whispered back, remembering the first time he had said it and the way her eyes had lit up. And then the way she had loved him after William had been put to bed, asking him to only call her honey, her body still slightly thicker from the pregnancy, arousing him as he had fulfilled her desire.

“Hmm,” she hummed, licking her lips and he shook his head.

“Stop. Go get ready.” She pouted and walked away, humming under her breath.

“And make sweet love to you,” she sang and he shook his head again.

“Scully,” he warned and she laughed. “Your mama is a naughty woman sometimes.” He told William as he looked at him, rubbing his back. William stared at him with his blue eyes and smiled, putting his head back on his shoulder.

Mulder hummed as he burped him, relishing this private moment. Despite his calm demeanor with Scully, he had his own misgivings about leaving him with a relative stranger.

Mrs. Scully had watched him when they had gone out to dinner, but it had not been often. In the past six months, they had been happy to just be with him, staying home and learning their way in this new life.

Deciding that a fresh start had been needed after the stress of William’s arrival into the world, they had worked with a real estate agent. They had found a small three bedroom house in Annandale, roughly equal distance between Quantico and Mrs. Scully’s house.

It needed some updating, and so for a few weeks they had been crammed into Scully’s apartment, Mulder moving out of his own place, having no desire to be there anymore. He did not want to be away from his family for even one night.

Moving into the small home, Mrs. Scully, the Gunmen, Skinner, Monica and Doggett helping to carry boxes and furniture, it had all felt surreal. When they had gone and it had been only the three of them, William asleep in Scully’s arms, it had finally felt like a reality.

“We’re home,” he had whispered to her, pulling her close. She had hummed and wrapped an arm around his waist.

“We are,” she had replied and he smiled.

“Would you ever have thought this would be where we ended up?” he had asked and she chuckled, pulling back to look at him.

“Not in a million years.”

“But you’re happy?” He had frowned, suddenly worried, even though he knew he should not be.

“Mulder…” she had sighed as she shook her head. “How can you even ask me that?”

“I just…”

“I am happier than I ever thought possible. Is it what I had imagined for myself? No… But is it what I want? One hundred percent.” She had smiled, looking down at William, watching him sucking in his sleep. She had trailed a finger softly down his face and looked back at Mulder. “I love you so much. I couldn’t imagine a life with anyone but you- my constant, my touchstone.”

“Oh, Scully,” he had breathed, pulling her close again, mindful of William between them, rocking them slowly, tears in his eyes as he had hummed an unknown tune.

They had spent a month arranging the house, getting to know the area, and simply being. But they both knew they would eventually have to go back to work.

And that presented a problem.

“I can watch him anytime you need,” Mrs. Scully had said, holding him at dinner one night, smiling as he reached for her necklace. She had stopped him, kissing his chubby hand as she held it.

“And we appreciate that, but we can’t ask that of you every day, Mom,” Scully had said, smiling as she watched them. “Mulder is right, as much as I do hate admitting it.” He had snorted with laughter and they all laughed, William screaming happily.

“Maybe a part time sitter?” Scully asked, looking at him and he had nodded with a smile.

And so it had been decided. Mrs. Scully would watch him twice a week and a nanny would come the other three days. Finding the right person had been difficult. Many interviews with different candidates had left Scully discouraged, until they had met Hannah.

She was older than most of the women they had met, nearly forty, and she had been perfect. Funny, kind, attentive to both their needs and to William as he lay on the floor playing with his toys. She had moved from the couch to the floor beside him, continuing the interview as she had played with and spoke to him. They had both liked her immensely, but knew how easy it could be to be fooled by kindness.

Strenuous background checks had been performed, Mulder asking the Gunmen to look into her and unbeknownst to him, Scully had asked the same. Then Skinner had come over one evening, a file in hand to tell them all about Hannah Gale.

She had been hired and came over again, seeing where everything was kept, any questions she had had been answered, and vice versa. They felt more at ease, but there was still that feeling of worry, that old paranoia hard to push down.

William burped loudly and Mulder shook his head, his hand that had stilled as he was lost in thought, once more moving and attempting to release any remaining air.

“You’ll be alright, right? You like Hannah. And your grandma will be here tomorrow. Plus, Mama’s only working a half day, so she will be home in just a few hours.” He rubbed William’s back and closed his eyes as he rested his head against William’s soft, nearly bald one.

“I’m ready,” Scully said. He opened his eyes as she stepped into the room, smiling at them. William raised his head and reached out for her with a toothless grin.

They went into the kitchen, the bread toasting and two cups of coffee poured. Mulder held William as they ate a quick breakfast, Scully repeatedly looking at her watch and glancing towards the front door.

“Scully…” he said, squeezing her hand.

“I know.” She squeezed back, taking a deep breath and smiling at him.

He handed William to her and she closed her eyes as she kissed his head and held him close. A couple of minutes later, right on time, the doorbell rang and she opened her eyes, looking at Mulder.

“We got this,” he said, standing up to open the door for Hannah. He heard Scully’s quiet affirmative and he smiled.

Another tour of the house, Scully again telling and showing Hannah where everything was located, while she smiled with a nod as she held William.

“We’re only doing rice cereal and carrots right now, seeing how he likes them and if he has any allergies,” Scully said, showing her the food and Hannah nodded again. William’s schedule was retold, the notes laid out and Mulder gently nudged Scully, raising his eyebrows at her.

“Okay. I know.” She sighed as Mulder began to gather their bags. “I’ll be back at around one thirty.”

“Yes. We will see you then,” Hannah said, waving William’s hand at her. “I’ll take him into the other room and read him a book while you leave. That will help with the detachment.”

“Mm…” Scully hummed, biting her lip and nodding her head.

“Come on, Scully,” Mulder said softly, kissing William’s head quickly and stepping back. Scully kissed William’s hand and Hannah smiled at her.

“We’ll be fine, Dana.” She touched Scully’s arm and nodded at both of them, walking out of the room, speaking to William and making him giggle.

“Scully,” he said again and she looked at him with tears in her eyes. “Come on, honey. It’ll be okay.”

She nodded and took the bag he offered her. He opened the door and they quietly left, William’s laughter the last thing they heard.

She cried on the way to work, accepting the tissues he had added to the car the night before. He said nothing, not wanting to add his own worry and sadness to hers. It was different for him and he knew it, so he stayed quiet, offering her his hand, kissing her knuckles softly.

Arriving at Quantico, they showed their credentials and were shown to their separate offices. They were no longer assigned to the X-Files, it being left in the capable hands of Agent Reyes and Agent Doggett. They were now teaching at Quantico as it afforded them more flexibility with a steady schedule that worked with a newborn.

Scully would be starting out at half days for a month, gradually moving into full days. He would be full time 9-5 every day, starting today, and he was both excited and nervous. It had been a long time since he had taught a class, but he was excited about this new journey.

“Well,” he said, looking around her office as she hung up her coat and traded it for the pristine white lab coat that was hanging on a hook. “It’s not the basement, but I suppose it’ll have to do.” He smiled at her and she tried to smile back, but failed.

Setting her bags down on the desk, he pulled her close and held her as they both took a calming breath. He rubbed her back as she wrapped her arms tightly around his waist.

“How about we take it hour by hour? We both have a class at nine thirty. I’ll meet you back here when it’s over and we can make out for like five minutes.” She laughed against him and pulled back to look into his eyes. He grinned and kissed her softly, knowing they would be too busy and too far from one another to make that happen.

“I’ll be okay. You better get going or you’ll be late.” She kissed him and adjusted his tie, patted his chest and took a deep breath. “We got this.”

“We do,” he whispered and she nodded.

“See you in a few hours.”

“Oh, I’ll be calling you. You can’t get rid of me that easily.” He smiled as he began to back out of the room and she laughed with a knowing nod.

He watched her walk down the hall, the sound of her heels familiar and it made him smile. She turned around before she walked out of sight and made a waving motion at him, telling him to get going. He nodded and hurried to drop off his coat in his office and then ran to his first class, arriving right on time.

He was only able to call her twice, both of them in a rush, their next class always fast approaching. She left a note on his desk before she left, telling him she was taking the car and would see him at home soon. There was no signature, save for an ink black open heart. He smiled and put the note in his bag, ate a quick lunch and headed to his next class.

At the end of the day, he caught a taxi home and was able to finish up on some things he had left unattended during the day. Sighing happily as he put away his work, he looked out the window as the sun began to go down.

He was heading home, to the woman he loved and their six month old son. Shaking his head, he laughed softly at how utterly crazy that still felt.

The lights of the homes in their neighborhood were on and every house looked cozy and inviting. He saw fall decorations on nearly all of them and it dawned on him that it was nearly Thanksgiving.

A couple walked by with a dog, the man pushing a baby stroller. He wondered what Scully would say about getting a dog. They had a decent sized yard and he had often thought what it would be like to have a dog to play fetch with when he had sat out on the porch drinking a beer. Maybe he would bring it up to her tonight, test the waters a bit.

“Here we are, sir,” the cab driver said and Mulder smiled as he saw the house coming into view.

“Thanks. Have a nice rest of your evening.” He paid him and got out, staring at their little house and smiling when he saw two pumpkins on the porch and a cornucopia of Indian corn.

He walked up the steps and smiled again when he saw the stick scarecrow family of three in the potted plant of red and golden flowers on the small table between the two porch chairs.

Someone must have done some shopping that afternoon.

Opening the door, he could smell garlic and his mouth began to water. Setting his bag down, he closed the door and took off his coat, hanging it on his cue ball coat rack. He walked into the kitchen and found Scully in front of the stove, stirring something in a pot, and holding William on her hip. She swayed slightly to the music she had playing softly and his heart swelled at the sight of them.

“Ahhhh,” William yelled, kicking his feet and waving his arms, smiling when he saw Mulder. Scully turned around and also smiled when she saw him, leaving the spoon in the pot and coming closer to him.

“Welcome home,” she murmured, kissing him softly.

“I like the decorations,” he said, kissing her again and she smiled.

“We were out and…” She shrugged and he nodded with a smile. “I didn’t realize it was nearly Thanksgiving. What would you think if we hosted?” He shrugged, not bothered either way, and walked to the sink to wash his hands before he took William from her, kissing his cheeks and head.

“So it was all okay?” he asked as she returned to stirring the pot and she nodded, glancing at him.

He smiled and nodded back, kissing the top of her head and taking William with him. Stopping to feed the fish, they watched them swimming around and then continued to the bedroom where he placed William in the portable crib while he took a quick shower and changed.

They all ate dinner, William sitting in his high chair and playing with his toys as they discussed their day, mostly focusing on what she and William had done once she was home.

“William was fine. He was sleeping when I got home and Hannah had even done some laundry and the house was very clean. I was surprised, but very happy with it.” She shrugged and he smiled. “I like her, Mulder.”

“Me too.”

They finished dinner and cleaned up, Mulder dancing around with William as they finished, his happy squeals echoing through the house. He was brought to the blanket on the floor, where they worked on rolling over and sitting up. He was close on both, but just needed a bit more time.

When he started to rub his eyes, Scully picked him up and they gave him a bath. She nursed him once more before he was placed in his bed for the evening, both of them watching him as he fell asleep, the mobile spinning slowly above his bed and playing a soft lullaby.

They left the room, closing the door halfway, and Mulder smiled at her. She raised her eyebrows and he bent his head to kiss her, pressing her into the wall, her arms wrapping around his neck. They walked down the hall, kissing and leaving a trail of clothing behind them.

She lay atop his chest, both of them out of breath, her thighs bracketing his body, his hand tangled in her hair. She scratched at his side and he thrust up, his body spent, but her touch eliciting a primal reaction.

“God…” she moaned and raised her head to kiss him, her tongue sliding slowly across his, his fingers pressing into her scalp.

She moved off of him, her eyes dark as they raked over his body. He got up and they both used the bathroom and brushed their teeth, before getting back into bed. Snuggling close to one another, he wrapped her in his arms, kissing her forehead and closing his eyes.

“It was a good day, Mulder. I had been so worried. After all we went through to get pregnant… there’s this guilt that constantly presses upon me about leaving him. Even if it’s only with my mother. It feels…”

“I know. And I also know, as I didn’t carry him and I missed a lot during your pregnancy, that it’s different for me. But… I was worried too.”

“What?” She raised her head and pulled back to look at him. “You never said…”

“No,” he said, brushing her hair back with a smile. “One of us had to be the stronger one, keep that worry at bay, and know that everything would be okay.”

��Did we switch places? Am I you?” She looked under the blankets and touched her chest, causing him to laugh.

“No, we definitely didn’t switch places,” he chuckled, pulling her closer, his fingers running over her soft skin. “As his mother, I know that your worry will always be there because… well, that’s what a mom does. Our lives have proven that that worry is not unfounded, but… we also have to learn to let people into our lives. I mean, we’ll vette them first of course…” She laughed and hooked her leg over his, her arm around his waist.

“It’s going to be good. We just have to learn how to trust people beyond our small circle of friends.”

“Trust everyone?” she teased and he chuckled.

“After they’re thoroughly vetted by a few of us, I say why not?” She laughed, kissing his throat, as he smiled and closed his eyes.

“I love you,” she whispered and he kissed her head, taking a deep breath.

“I love you too.”

She shifted, turning onto her side and he followed, spooning her with a leg between hers. She brought his hand to her lips, holding it close as she took a deep breath. He kissed her cheek and she hummed.

“Hey, Scully?”

“Hmm?”

“What do you think about getting a dog?”

“I think... we should talk about it in the morning,” she said tiredly and he smiled, squeezing her hand.

“That wasn’t a no,” he whispered in her ear and she chuckled, her breathing slowly evening out. He kissed her cheek once more and smiled as he closed his eyes.

It was definitely not a no…

#The X-Files #XF Fanfic #Post Existence #What If #Alternate Universe #Canon Divergence #Living Together #Life Partners #Inspired by a Twitter post #Family #Happy Family #What should have happened

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pocmuzings · 5 years ago

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hello hi , it is g , ur friendly local neighbourhood hindu indian ( as in south asian ) ! so a few people requested that i just make a guide-esque sorta thing on hindu indian characters ! im not really good at guides , so instead , these are just little things i’ve noticed or picked up on that could really potentially strengthen the next indian character u ( pretty please ! ) pick up !

disclaimer : i am writing this from my perspective and it is NOT definitive , nor do i speak on behalf of all hindu indians ! i am a 23-year-old bisexual cis female hindu indian , with one older gay brother, and a Train Wreck middle brother . my mother is from new delhi , and my father is from nairobi but has indian heritage ( not sure which part of india bc he’s an Engima ) . i have extended family in india and have visited india about 10-15 times throughout my entire life .

so firstly , im so glad u all are here and want to write more hindu indian characters ! please please do so ! i hope this helps , encourages u , and isnt too confusing !!

psa : i need everyone to know that this is a very basic ‘ guide ‘ and theres a lot it DOESNT touch on or address bc i didnt want to get too Extensive and Detailed and have people Turn off and not Read it . this is just written in the terms of hopefully helping build character / be relevant to characters a bit better that ive employed into writing my OWN hindu indian character creations ! but if u have any other questions pls reach out to me or any other indians in the rpc and im sure we’ll try our best to assist u !

FCS:

one thing i’d really like to say is that its great to see fcs like dev patel , deepika padukone and avan jogia picked up every now and then in rps , but there’s actually a LOT of other indian fcs you could be and should be using ! the main reason people don’t seem to know them is because they’re not ‘ hollywood ‘ stars per se ( it was a super big deal when pr*yanka broke out of bollywood and into bollywood but we don’t talk about her on this Blog ) . they’re usually bollywood stars and i don’t really see bollywood discussed that much in the rpc !

if you’re after MORE indian fcs , i have a tag of indian females here , and indian males here . the fcs on my blogs are also not ALL that exist . there are plenty of other blogs out there that post indian fcs , such as sonamhelps & bollymusings !!! there’s also some really great faceclaim directories out there that include a LOT of indians with resources !

unfortunately , i do not know of any trans indians or nonbinary indians but that doesn’t mean they don’t exist . indian cultures and beliefs are still quite Old School and not super progressive . india only just had it’s first wlw mainstream bollywood film released last year . lgbtqia+ issues are NOT really spoken about in india or within indian families at ALL , and if they are - they’re usually dismissed or reacted to Very Very Badly . ( again this isnt definitive and im sure and hopeful that some indians have had GREAT coming out stories and been accepted by their families but this has not been a common thing ive seen or witnessed from my cousins my age , indian friends , myself and my brother who are lgbtqia + )

FOOD :

we do eat with our hands and we eat like PROS with our hands . we can shovel it so easily and quickly . i don’t know how to describe it but you use the first three fingers of your hand to place the Food there , and then use your thumb to kinda scoop it off and into your mouth . this is NOT unhygienic because indians wash their hands very regularly and most of the time we aren’t actually touching our mouths to our hands !

indian food is MADE to be eaten with your hands for the most part . it is literally NOT practical to eat food with a knife and fork . here’s a really great article explaining things more in depth re: indian food and using our hands !

cows are seen as Very holy beings in hindu indian culture , and for that reason - there isn’t a lot of beef being eaten or consumed. sure , some indians DO eat beef but i don’t think its super common, but in my personal experience as a non-beef-eater this results in A LOT of me asking ‘ oh , sorry what sauce does that pasta come with ? ‘ ‘ oh those are beef sausages ? sorry i can’t eat them ‘ etc etc . beef is in a LOT of things , and this makes me very very careful and almost pedantic about what i do eat and ask about , food wise !

indian food is seen as stinky by a majority of white people . it has a very very strong smell as im sure u know , and opening ur lunch box as a little kid to a Curry or Dal ur mum has made u ? one way street to being bullied . i also remember a time a real estate agent continuously told my dad nobody was interested in buying our house bc it smelled too much like curry, despite my mum not having cooked curry in Weeks ( just say what u Really mean , bitch ! )

indian curry exists but so does dal / daal . this is curry-like dish that is usually made out of lentils . so if ur going to talk about indian food and u know curries and samosas . . pls also bring up dals . and sabji ! ( sabji is usually just boiled vegetables plopped together . a lot of potato usually )

desserts are what we call Indian Sweets . this is stuff that is usually very VERY sugary and a bit of an accustomed taste . theyre very colourful and LOOK beautiful but even i , for one , can not eat many indian sweets bc they are a Lot of Sweet and Sugar . examples of indian sweets that u can google : gulab jamun , burfi , rasgulla , jalebi etc . here’s a great link for more !

give me spiced food or give me death . literally . . put some cumin in . . put some garam masala . . put some chillies . . flavour ur Food for my Indian Taste Buds

FAMILY :

if you are the oldest son of an Indian Family . . congratulations . you are now the Head of the family and must carry every weight and burden alone . it is extremely isolating and taxing on you ( my dad is the oldest indian son , and also - so is my eldest brother , obvs ) . there is a LOT that is expected of you to do . you are expected to quite literally run the family and be the ‘ man of the house ‘ by yourself .

if you are a daughter . . . even BIGGER congratulations ! you are basically a maid to every male or guest who EVER comes over to your house . you must be a Hostess , you must be in the kitchen cooking , serving snacks, bringing tea , and then washing up and basically waiting on Hand and Foot . you will not be included into a lot of dialogue or engaged in a lot of conversation and TRUST ME ! THAT WILL GRIND UR GOD DAMN GEARS IN THE 21ST CENTURY !

if you are a boys’ boy ( aka straight and Sporty ) , then congrats ! you get it the easiest : you are the favourite of every social event . the uncles and cousins love talking to you and dude-ing it up with you , and the aunts fawn over you and think you’re the Best Thing since sliced bread . sit back , put your feet up , and expect to be treated like a God. you can do absolutely no wrong . ( my middle brother is this to a T and listen . . he’s been in and out of jail for physical violence and ab*se for over 5 years . and family still FROTH over him . my teeth are gritted to dust thinking of this again )

indian aunties are lethal . they gossip like teenage girls . they will find out everything . they will bitch behind your back . they can NOT be trusted .

everyone is ur uncle or aunt, sister or brother . literally everyone . ur cousin ? no. thats ur sister . ur dads friend ? no , thats ur uncle . you will call them as such . EVERYONE is family .

family is in general a VERY BIG THING in indian culture , too . ‘ what will it Look like to everyone else if we don’t all arrive together ? ‘ my dad usually asks dskjdfjn . it’s all about Looking Right and Standing As A United Front . that being said , indian family has undying and unwavering loyalty for one another , they just show it in a very Weird way .

FASHION:

female hindu indian formal clothes are usually really embroidered to hell and back and this makes them very scratchy , uncomfortable, and HEAVY . you aren’t running anywhere anytime soon in a full blown lehenga or saree

most ‘ modern ‘ hindu indian women do not wear full Indian Clothes all the time . some do , but usually it’s a lot of wearing a kurti tunic with jeans , or just normal everyday clothing . again , this is going to be different based on which parts of india your character is from , though !

usually , older women and married women wear traditiona hindul indian clothing quite often . i know my mum wore a sari AT HOME everyday when i was growing up, until i was like 13 and took her shopping with me to get something Else to wear .

bindi’s just stick right onto ur forehead but they do fall off a lot , especially when ur wearing makeup or sweating . again , you don’t need to wear a bindi everyday , unless thats ur preference . i usually only wear them for festivals . ( festivals means indian celebrations , not like . . coachella ((which u should not be wearing a bindi to , if ur not indian fyi )) )

male formal clothes are usually just literally anything Formal and buttoned up for the most part , and u can get away with that , or you can wear a really nice kurta

indians wear white at funerals , not black ( not sure if this should go in the fashion section but this entire thing is being organised into a Mess by now anyways ) . you CAN wear black to a funeral of course , but its common to wear white !

DATING ( tw’s for islamaphobia ):

modern day indian / desi fuck boys exist and my god they are Something Else . hasan minhaj did a really good piece about this and explaining them to a T ( starts at 1:43 )

( THIS IS THE POINT THAT WILL MENTION ISLAMAPHOBIA AND HOMOPHOBIA ! ) basically according to Older indians , , ur dating options in 2020 go like this ( if ur a cis female like me ) : hindu indian men are god tier , white men are Not Okay But I Guess So Bc We Have To Accept They’re Everywhere , females / being lgbtqia+ is not Taken Seriously , and muslims are literally not even close to being an option or Accepted . again this isn’t definitive but based on a lot of indian media i’ve consumed and seen how they portray muslims in general as well as Dating Options , as well as talking to other indians , both who are older / traditional and hold these ideals , whereas Younger gens generally do NOT hold these ideals / actively are Against these backwards ideals. i remember when i was in year 6 and had my first boyfriend . . he was a muslim and my dad FLIPPED the FUCK out . it’s not even that i was dating someone / young / his only daughter . . it was mainly because i was dating a muslim . again , this is a very OLD SCHOOL and traditional way of thinking and it is NOT CORRECT . pls don’t take this as a note to be islamaphobic if u write an indian character bc . . thats literally the opposite of what im trying to tell u here .

yeah arranged marriages are definitely still a thing for us , even now in 2020

YES if u are an unmarried / single indian ( ESPECIALLY if ur a woman ) about to enter ur 30s . . ur in DANGER and u are the black sheep and theres probably something Wrong With You bc why are u still single ?

TRADITIONS / BELIEFS / SUPERSTITIONS :

idk if its just me and my family but we are SUPER superstitious . if you say anything like ‘ he hasnt gotten sick in years !’ immediately , everyone knocks on wood or their head . if you were planning on leaving the house and sneeze ? thats bad luck , stand and wait for five minutes then u can leave . we have a strong belief in drishti , or alternatively : The Evil Eye , and making sure we don’t invite it into our lives . a lot of our prayers are about warding drishti away .

the evil eye is kinda Complicated but basically its an ill-wishing upon an unsuspecting person . if somebody is jealous of you or angered by you , they may wish upon you or cast upon you the Evil eye ( or even just glare at u whilst ur not looking and thats Big Bad ) .

a lot of older indians , like older people in general i guess , are not super progressive or Open . this isnt ALWAYS the case but older indians can be very very stubborn in their beliefs in what is Right and Wrong , Normal and Not Normal

theres a LOT of hindu indian festivals and events ! tbh too many for me to even keep up with . but without fail at least once a year ill say to ONE of my friends ‘ oh sorry i cant make it . i have an indian Thing on that day ‘ and its usually about a festival , so pls be aware that there are a LOT of indian festivals and if ur writing an indian character , its perfectly understandable and Relatable for them to say they can’t make it to a party or hang out with their friends that night , for that very reason !

the main / most popular ( ? ) festivities that i personally do celebrate every year without fail are :

diwali ( the festival of lights , celebrating goddess lakshmi roaming the earth . in my household this is usually turning on literally every single light and lighting candles and fireworks / sparklers and saying some prayers , and eating a formal dinner all together ! )

holi ( the festival of colours . celebrating victory and love . again personally for me , this was usually celebrated at the temple with all of us Kids running around throwing paint on each other ! )

rakhi / raksha bandhan ( a day of sisters celebrating their brothers . you tie a rakhi which is usually a bracelet / holy string around your brothers wrist , feed them some food , pray for their wellbeing and in return they gift you something . in my case, i usually get money from them ) .

navratri / durga puja ( 9 nights and 10 days of celebrations but tbh u don’t have to do all the days . or i mean . . i don’t . i fast one day from morning to night and then i slide on over to boogie and dance dandiya which is literally the MOST FUN dance ever bc its based off some Historical Fight and u go faster and faster and keep going until ur absolutely SPENT bc u dont wanna lose ur place in the circle )

there are SO MANY HINDU INDIAN GODS too . and so many prayers to all of them and to just general Life Wellness . chances are that ur character will know at least ONE aarti / gazal / prayer off by heart and have sung it at least 30 times in a monotone voice . the ones i know off by heart bc ive had to sing them 3000 times ? om jai jagdish hare , & the gayatri mantra

GENERAL LIL THINGS I DIDN’T KNOW HOW TO CATEGORISE ( tw’s for skin whitening , colorism and classism ) :

( THIS IS THE POINT THAT NEEDS A TW FOR SKIN WHITENING AND COLORISM ) lets hold indians accountable right now : we advertise SKIN LIGHTENING CREAM . i think they finally stopped that earlier this year / due to BLM ( i’m not entirely sure / could be wrong ) , but thats literally how bad it is , that we would openly advertise and encourage people to literally bleach their skin rather than look darker .

( THIS IS THE POINT THAT NEEDS A TW FOR COLORISM AND CLASSISM ) colorism is a BIG thing in india and usually linked to class . generally speaking , the people who are Darker Skinned are usually people who work outside / labourers or homeless even , and are therefore seen as lower class / bottom class . the lighter skin you have , the more privileged and advantaged you are bc ur seen as working a Good job out of the sun and having a home . it’s incredibly classist as well as just generally Fucked Up . why am i telling u this ? mainly so u understand the importance of using a dark skinned indian fc vs a light skinned indian fc which i know is hard , bc a lot of darker skinned indians arent in hollywood / have resources , but its still something to Think About .

i have a long Ethnic name . literally my first name is 10+ letters , which i know doesnt seem that long Necessarily but its also a Super Ethnic name with e’s and and j and n . it Flows and Sounds very clearly different from a christian name . it is VERY important to me that my name be said Correctly because i’ve spent so much time having it said incorrectly or Westernised . i also know a lot of indians my age who ( like me ) have had to dramatically shorten their REAL first name ( which is usually also pretty long . not always , but it is Common ) , to fit their name into white people’s mouths better . please put some thought into ur indian characters name !

not all indians speak hindi ! hindi is one of MANY dialects within india . there is also tamil , urdu , bengali , punjabi , telugu and SO many more , so pls research which part of india ur character / their family is from bc hindi won’t always be the default language for them !

not every indian is hindu ! of course ur character doesnt have to be religious at all , bc if im being honest IM barely religious but my FAMILY is and this is smth u should think abt bc religion is a pretty big thing for indians . so even if ur character isnt hindu , they were probably raised with SOME religious beliefs . have a think about which religions they would have been brought up with ! there’s a very large percentage of practicing muslims , sikhs and buddhists too ! and even christianity !

WRITING WISE / CREATING AN INDIAN CHARACTER WISE :

the first step should be to consume indian media ! listen to indian music . watch bollywood movies ! theres SO MANY out there on everyone’s netflix . if u want some recs , let me know and i can try my best to find smth for u ! if u want smth thats Hollywood-indian . . . Hasan Minhaj is great to watch , especially his episodes on indian culture / politics , and Never Have I Ever on netflix was rlly good / relatable for me personally as an indian growing up in a western society !

i would really really love to see more indian rep in general , but i’d also like to discuss the Stereotypes that ive seen indians portrayed as in mainstream hollywood media :

indian women as soft spoken and subservient beings who are abused by their husbands and have no say in anything

heterosexuality within indian relationships and indian dating

indian men as sleazy

indians in general not being seen as Sexy or Sexual beings with any sex drive at all

Stumbling , Stuttering , Nerdy awkward messes of men who don’t know how to interact with anybody they find sexually appealing

an indian character that everybody ( usually white ) finds Uncomfortable and Weird and is seen as usually the Butt of the joke .

i think those mentioned above could be helpful in how to plan your next indian character and think about how to SUBVERT a trope theyre often portrayed as , or create an indian thats not stereotypical !

so what and who SHOULD you write ?

an indian character who is proudly and openly gay , or bi

a trans or nonbinary indian ( PLEASE ! )

an indian character with really super accepting parents and family

an aromantic indian

an indian who is focused on their career first and not their dating life

a fuckboy / fuckgirl ( honestly . . i’d love to see it )

a indian character who is a party animal

an outspoken indian female who takes no shit and is strong in every sense of the word

a confident , smooth talking indian businessman who is Sexy and Lusted After ( not in a gross christian grey way but just . i’d love to see indian characters seen as Sexy . not in a fetishy way , either , but just because it’d be a nice change in pace ! )

a character who IS traditional / religious but also very progressive and forward thinking in their beliefs

honestly just any character that isnt whats mentioned above

#guide #writing help #rph #rpc #islamaphobia tw #colorism tw #classism tw #idk if this is any good and i was very uncomfortable putting in the part abt how a lot of older indians feel abt muslims #but i mean . . lets just call it the fuck out bc its Gross Behaviour so lets call it out and work to change it #anyways every trigger is tagged super clearly in every point that talks abt it #i kept those parts Brief and as Direct and Honest as possible #pls let me know if u need me to tag anything #and lastly . . . pls write indian characters !!!!

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atlafan · 5 years ago

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Hii ok u dont have to write this if it doesnt inspire u but I’ve been watching Selling Sunset on Netflix & I’ve been waiting impatiently for the 3rd season cuz it’s just so good lol but i was wondering if u could write something about rich real estate agent H? Maybe helping the MC buy her first home and they hit it off? Ur the only 1 who writes these diverse Harry’s & I can’t stop thinking about real estate H showing her expensive houses & like doing NaughtyStuff with her in an empty 1 lol xx HC

a/n: this has been in my inbox for a while and I’ve been wanting to get to it, so here it is! there is smut, but it’s more tame than you requested. Hope you still like it!

Sold

You weren’t sure how you were able to do it, but you finally had enough money for a down payment on a home. You scrimped and saved for years as best you could, you paid off the majority of your student loans, you built up your credit, and now you felt ready for this very adult step.

Your parents weren’t sure why you weren’t content with just renting. “What if you meet someone?” They’d ask you. “Then they could just move in with me, or we’d find another place. It’s an investment!” You’d reply. They had this vision in their head that you’re supposed to buy a home with a partner. It was the twenty-first century, you didn’t need anyone to help you...or so you thought.

The pre-approval process at the bank was lengthy, but thorough. They’d need to see your W2′s from two years prior, they needed to know how long you’ve been at your current job, and basically just how much money you had altogether. The mortgage specialist at the bank was very kind.

“So, you’re doing this all on your own?”

“I am.” You smile.

“Have you got real estate agent yet?”

“No.” You shrug. “You don’t really need when you’re the one buying do you? I can just call whoever’s showing the house and work with them.”

“Maybe in small towns, but in larger areas like this you’ll want a realtor, trust me. It doesn’t cost you anything either way. They can top shop, help you negotiate, all those kinds of things.”

“They also like to show you houses out of your price range.” You scoff.

“Not the honest ones. I get it, at the end of the day, they’re out there to make a quick buck, and the more the house is, the larger the cut they get. But I know a guy, he actually helped my son buy his first home. He was absolutely wonderful, and he’s a shark.” She goes through the many business cards on her desk. “Ah! Here it is, Harry Styles, he works for Greenfield Real Estate.”

You take the card from her and scan it over.

“Don’t they sell, like, really nice homes? They work with people looking for mansions.”

“Just give him a call, and tell him I sent you. You won’t regret it, trust me. Your pre-approval is only good for ninety days, so you’ll want to contact him soon.”

Your head was swimming, but you knew she had a point. Half the houses you favorited on realtor.com or zillow were sold already. It was a seller’s market for sure. Maybe you would need someone to help you negotiate...but did it have to be a man? Couldn’t you find a female realtor? You spent years becoming the strong, independent woman you came to be, and now it felt like you’d be surrendering to some stereotype.

However, after perusing on the Greenfield website, you see a picture of Harry. You bite your bottom lip, swallow some pride, and dial his number.

“Greenfield Real Estate, this is Harry.” You weren’t expecting the British accent, or the deep voice and drawl that came with it. “Hello?”

“Um, hi! Yeah, Doris at Hills Bank gave me your card...I’m a first time home buyer.” You want to smack yourself for how stupid you sound.

“Oh, I love Doris! I’ve worked with her a bunch. I actually helped her son buy his first home last year.”

“That’s what she told me.”

“Right, so, picking a realtor is sort of like dating, you wanna make sure you pick the right one. Why don’t we meet up for coffee somewhere locally so we can get to know each other a bit.”

Pushy, he was already wanting to meet you. Probably to have you sign your life away to be his client.

“Sure, we could do that.”

“Are you local? There’s a place on Bleaker Street that has great coffee.”

“Is it Monte Alto?”

“Yeah! That’s the one. When are you free?”

“I could meet you Friday during lunch my break.”

“Sounds great, I’m assuming noon?”

“Correct.”

“By the way, you didn’t tell me your name.”

“It’s Y/N.”

“Alright, Y/N, I’ll see you Friday at noon at Monte Alto.”

You take a huge breath after you hang up.

Friday rolled around, and you weren’t able to step out of the office until nearly 11:50. It would take a little more than ten minutes to get there, and you hated being late. You were happy you had at least looked up what Harry looked like so you’d be able to spot him once you were there.

Once you’re there, you see a man sitting on one of the cushioned chairs, looking out the window. It had to be him.

“Harry?”

He looks over at you and smiles. He stands up to shake your hand.

“Y/N?”

“Yes, hi, sorry I’m late, I’ve had meeting after meeting this morning. Fridays aren’t usually this busy.”

“No worries at all. Tell me, what’s your order?”

“Oh, I can get it myself. I’m gonna grab a bagel too.”

“Good idea, I’ll do the same. Now, what’ll you have?”

“Really...I can-”

“I know you can, but I invited you here, it would be rude to have you pay. Do this with all my perspective clients.”

“Well, don’t I feel special.” You say sarcastically. He chuckles softly as you both get in line.

You both order your drinks and food, and wait awkwardly for your names to be called, then you sit back down.

“Thank you.”

“You’re more than welcome. So, tell me, what’s your dream home?”

“Oh god, um, nice big kitchen, I love to cook when I actually have time. A room for entertaining. I’m usually the one to host friends. Two stories, a garage, three bedrooms would be ideal, but I’ll settle for two-”

“No settling.” He smirks. “Go on.”

“Um...well, so, three bedrooms, ideally I’d like a master with an en suite, but who doesn’t?” You watch as he makes notes on a little pad of paper. “I’d like a yard, but it doesn’t need to be huge. Bonus points if there’s a deck or patio, maybe even a pool, but I can live without those things.”

“And you’re buying this just for yourself, correct? No husbands or boyfriends I need to know about?”

“You know, I could have a girlfriend.”

“Shit, I’m sorry you’re right, um-”

“Relax, I’m teasing.” You chuckle. “But to answer your question, I am doing this alone. I feel like I’m ready for a house, so I want one.”

“Thought I put my foot in my mouth for a second there. I need to learn to just say partner.” He picks up his drink to take a sip, and that’s when you notice he has perfectly manicured nails. Interesting. “So it seems like you know how to be realistic about what you want, and you also have a dream list. What about projects, do they scare you?”

“I’m good with painting or even having to put new flooring in, but I’d like to stay away from any major reno.”

“Gotcha.” He makes another note. “And what price range are we working with here?”

“Let me just make a note on my phone, I’d rather not say out loud in case someone tries to rob me.”

He smiles and nods. He squints at your screen and makes a note.

“Great, good for you. What do you do for work?”

“I’m a physician, I work at a doctor’s office not too far from here. I’ve been there for two years, and I love what I do.”

“That’s great. So, Doris talked with you about balancing a mortgage and paying down your student loans?”

“They’re mostly paid for, actually. I got a lot of scholarships for my undergrad, and during med school I was awarded a pretty decent grant.”

“Perfect.” He scribbles some more notes and then puts his pad and pen down. “What do you want to know about me?”

“How long have you been a realtor for?”

“Six years, been with Greenfield since I started.”

“What made you get into it?”

“Love seeing people happy.”

“What about when someone buys below the asking price?”

“Doesn’t happen with me, not when I’m selling anyways. However, when I’m helping someone buy a home, well, let’s just say I’m pretty good at negotiating.” He smirks. “You’d be in good hands with me, but if you wanna shop around some more I’ll understand.”

“Do you work with first time buyers a lot?”

“Sometimes, it depends. I know a lot of them like to work with me. They’re usually young, I’m young. Makes for a more relatable experience.”

“Okay.” You look outside and think for a moment. “I think I’d like to work with you.”

He smiles big at you.

“Are there any homes you’ve had in mind that you’d like to start looking at? I can definitely see what open houses are out there too. People tend to make offers fast, but don’t let that scare you. The home has to feel right, if you want it, I’ll make sure you get it.”

“There were a few I’ve seen on realtor...” You take your phone out to show him. “I’d like to not have a super long commute either if I can help it.”

“Are you looking to grow into this home or is it more of a starter space for you?” You give him a funny look. “I just mean, like, would you be open to a condo or something like that.”

“Only if it was detached and didn’t have a high HOA.”

He nods and looks at some of the other homes you had favorited.

“So what I’m gonna do is go back to my office and run a few searched. Then I’ll text you a link to the home I find, and you can tell me which ones you like. Don’t be afraid to tell me you hate them either. Then if there’s a couple you wanna see, we’ll set up a time that works for you, and then I’ll contact the other realtor, sound good?”

“Sounds great.”

You shake hands again before leaving. As you make your way back to the office, you feel relieved. You had someone you could ask questions to, and someone basically on your side. Harry was nice, a salesman at heart, but nice.

Saturday morning you get a text from Harry.

Harry Styles - Hi Y/N, it was great meeting you yesterday. Here are some places I think you might like. Let me know what you think!

You liked how formal he was. You tap the link he sent you. The first couple were duds, but there were a few on here that actually peaked your interest.

You - Could we three of the home? The bottom three on the list.

Harry Styles - Sure! When would work for you?

You - I don’t work on Mondays, so that would be easiest. Timing doesn’t matter.

Harry Styles - I’ll contact the realtors and see what we can put together.

You - Thanks so much!

You felt really excited. You wondered if maybe you should invite your parents to come look at the houses with you, but maybe you would save that for a second look through once you actually find something. A house can look much different in pictures than it does in person.

Monday morning, around 9:30, you meet Harry at the first location. His car was parked in the driveway. He gets out when he sees you pull in. He had two coffees in hand.

“Morning.” He says to you. “Got you a coffee, I remembered your order.”

“Oh! Um, thanks.” You take it from him.

“I’ve already gone in and unlocked the doors and turned the lights on. The other realtor isn’t here, which is perfectly fine. Take your time, feel free to walk around outside before heading in too.”

You smile and nod. The front was beautifully landscaped, and there was a gate leading to the backyard. He follows you out that way. You listen as he explains when the home was built and why the people were selling it. There a nice deck that had been recently put on, no pool though, but there was room for one. You go up the stairs of the deck and go in through the sliding glass door.

“Kitchen was recently renovated within the last five years. All appliances come with the place.”

“It’s beautiful.” You run your fingers over the nice granite counter tops.

As you scope out the rest of the house, you’re not as impressed as you were with it when you first walked in. The bedrooms were small, and barely had any storage. The basement wasn’t in the best condition either.

“Definitely a no, but a good first experience nonetheless.”

Harry looks down at his watch as he nods.

“Wanna follow me to the next place then?”

“Sure.”

Same thing happened at house number two and three. You just weren’t wowed. You sigh heavily as you lean against your car.

“Don’t get discouraged, Y/N. It’s better to know what you don’t like. We can keep looking. When I go into the office tomorrow I can run another search. Maybe we can look at some condos.”

“That might be good. Maybe somewhere with people my age? It would be cool to be in a little community.”

“Definitely.”

“Thanks...I hope I haven’t been a pain with the things I don’t like.”

“Not at all. This is a really big purchase, you should get what you want.”

It took three more weeks of meeting up with Harry on various days to find a place you liked. On a Saturday evening, he brought you over to a condo that was detached, had a garage, a community gym and pool. It had three bedrooms, and two and a half baths. One being an en suite for the master bedroom.The kitchen was gorgeous and flowed into a dining/living area. You were thrilled.

“Harry...” You look at him. “It’s perfect.”

“Really, you like it?”

“I love it!” You squeal and hug him without thinking. “Sorry.” You blush.

“It’s fine, it’s exciting.”

“I’d like to put an offer in. The price is rate and the HOA is reasonable. It’s not too far from work. I’d be able to entertain, the backyard is fenced in. There was even security at the gate! This is my home, I can feel it.”

“Fantastic. The paperwork can take some time. Would you wanna fill everything out over dinner?”

“Um...sure...”

“Plus, it gives you a chance to see what places nearby are like. We passed some nice restaurants on the way here.”

You follow him to a nice pizza place a couple of miles away. He bring a large packet of paper and a couple of pens in with him.

“On the way here I called the other realtor to let him know an offer was coming their way.”

“Thanks.”

You both get seated and are given some water. He takes the papers out and explains what you would need to sign, and what your offer would mean. Harry said you could definitely low ball the sellers, so you asked for about $15K less than the asking price.

“They probably won’t accept, but most people don’t on the first offer. This just gives us a good starting point.”

“And you think the six grand in closing costs is good?”

“Yeah, totally reasonable. That’ll be about half of it. Sometimes, you can get more money off after the home inspection. Once a price is settled, you’ll want to schedule that right away. I have some names of some great home inspectors.”

“Would you be there for that?”

“I would. I’m there for all of it. The other realtor will be there too.”

“Okay good. I’d feel better with you there.”

As you begin to sign the documents, a waiter comes over.

“Good evening folks, can I start you off with anything to drink?”

“I’d love a glass of rose please.” You say.

“Just a Corona for me, thanks.”

The waiter nods and leaves you be.

“Did you want to just split a pizza?” Harry asks looking down at the menu.

“Sure, what do you like? I usually just get green peppers and mushrooms.”

“Works for me. Would you mind this cauliflower crust?”

“Not at all! I prefer that, actually.”

‘Perfect.” He smiles.

When the waiter comes back, Harry orders your pizza. He watches as you finish up all the paperwork. He checks over everything to make sure you signed everything.

“I’ll get this all scanned and sent over tomorrow.”

“Do you ever take a day off?”

“Yes and no. The realtor world is funny. Sometimes I’m in the office all day and then I wont hear from a client until 8PM. I’m not helping someone buy, I’m helping someone sell. I’m always busy.”

“Sorry to take up your Saturday night...”

“No, don’t be. I’d just be home working.” He shrugs and takes a sip of his beer. “It’s your Saturday night I’m more worried about.”

“Oh please.” You laugh. “My friends know I’ve been busy with this, they understand. Besides when I showed them who you were...” You stop yourself from finishing the sentence.

“No, please, go on.” He smirks.

“They just, they saw your picture on the Greenfield website, that’s all.” You blush.

The waiter comes over with the pizza, and thankfully it breaks a bit of the tension. You each take a slice and dig in.

“This is delicious.” You say.

“Yeah, never been here before, I’ll definitely have to come back.” He takes another sip of his beer. “Once that condo is yours, I fully expect an invite to your house warming, by the way. I like to know my clients are good to go.”

“I definitely won’t be a stranger.”

When you and Harry are done, he walks you out to your car. He gives you a small hug goodbye as well. You felt like you just had a date, but there was no way you did.

After going back and forth twice, your offer was accepted. You set up a home inspection with one of the names Harry had given you. He meets you at the house when it’s time, and you’re able to meet the other realtor. A woman, who was a little too delighted to see Harry. You felt jealous when they hugged. However, he stayed close to you and took notes while the inspector was talking.

You made sure to ask a lot of questions. There were no major things that alarmed you. All of the information was just a lot to take in, and you were feeling slightly overwhelmed. You should have brought your parents, or another friend. Was Harry a friend at this point? As the inspector was putting together a full report for you, and getting your email, the other realtor was talking to Harry.

“So, I thought you were only in the selling game right now.” She smirks at him.

“Once in a while I take on a buyer.” He shrugs. “It’s good commission.”

“Yeah, thanks, can’t wait to split it with you.” She rolls her eyes. “But I do love when our paths cross.”

“Mhm.” He looks over at you and then back to the realtor. “The previous owners took great care of this place.”

“Yeah, they did. The only reason they moved is because they’re daughter had a baby and they wanted to be closer to her.”

“Ah, classic.”

“Are you doing anything later?”

“Um…well…Y/N is probably going to have questions and stuff, so I’ll probably be busy with her for a bit.”

“Okay, but, like, tonight, are you free? We could grab a drink.”

“I…”

“Harry?” You say, walking over to them. “Everything’s all set. He said I should have the radon and water tests by next week.”

“Perfect. You’ll be able to make a final decision and add anything to an addendum then.”

“It was nice to meet you.” You shake the woman’s hand.

“Same to you. Look forward to hearing from you soon.”

“Y/N, I took a lot of notes, is there anything you want to go over?”

“Yeah, that would be great.”

“See ya Margaret, we’ll be in touch.” He shakes her hand and leaves her standing there, shocked.

Harry walks with you outside, and you agree on a bar to meet up at. You both grab drinks and Harry goes over his notes with you. He gives you the name of a good plumber since you mentioned you’d want to update a few fixtures.

“What about a painter? Know of anyone that can help with that?”

“You don’t need to waste your money on a professional. Painting’s not that hard.” He chuckles.

“Well, I am not very skilled when it comes to that kind of stuff. Plus, I won’t really have the time to do it myself, and I’d wanna get it done before I move.”

“You could get all done in a couple of weekends no problem, you just need some friends that know how to paint.” He puts a toothpick in his mouth and fiddles with it. “I know how to paint.”

“You do?”

“Sure.” He shrugs. “Sometimes sellers need to fix up their houses quickly. I’ve come to the rescue on more than one occasion.”

“That’s nice of you.”

“I don’t make any money if I don’t. No one wants to be an ugly house.” He takes a sip of his drink. “I guess what I’m saying is, I could help you paint. You’re about to have a mortgage payment on your hands.”

“Pending the inspection report.” You smirk.

“Right.” He smiles.

“Did you offer up the same service for Doris’ son?”

“No.” He says smugly. “He already knew how to paint.”

“That other woman before, what was her name? Margaret?”

“Yeah, what about her?”

“I heard her ask you out…”

“She didn’t, she wasn’t…uh…” He scratches the back of his neck. “Sometimes we go for drinks if we end of working on the same house. Nothing more than that really.”

“So, you’re not, like, seeing her.”

“God, no. That would be a major conflict of interest.”

“Do you always go out for drinks with your clients?”

“Sometimes…I know some people have clients over to their home to do paperwork, but I didn’t think you’d feel super comfortable coming over to some guy’s house you barely know.”

“How considerate of you.” You giggle.

“Did it bother you that she asked me out tonight?”

You nearly choke on your drink.

“What? No, why, uh, why would it have bothered me?”

“Because…if someone had done the same to you in front of me I would have been bothered, but to be fair, I’m a pretty jealous guy.” He finishes his drink and orders another one.

“How many times does this happen?”

“What?”

“You hitting on your clients.”

“Is that what I’m doing?” He fake gasps. “And no, I don’t usually do this. I’m a little embarrassed, actually. Not very professional of me to have a crush on your client.” Your eyes widen and your jaw drops slightly. “Sorry, I hope I’m not making you uncomfortable.”

“No! I…I’m just a little surprised that you’re into me, is all.”

“Why? You’ve got a great career, you’re super independent, and you’re really funny.”

“How do you not already have a girlfriend?”

“I’m really busy, like, all the time. I’m able to take vacations here and there, but you see how much I work. Any time I date it doesn’t last because people don’t understand the job. You’re a doctor, you get it. You must be busy going to classes trying to stay up to date on everything.”

“I am, I’m definitely busy a lot…but I make time for friends.”

“So do I. My friends don’t get offended if I have to cancel or reschedule, or they at least don’t take it personally.”

“I get what you’re saying…dating is hard when you have a demanding job.”

“Exactly.”

“So…are you going to ask me out?”

“Can’t, not until this is all done at least. Conflict of interest.”

“Oh.”

“But when I do, are you saying you’ll say yes?”

“I guess we’ll find out when you ask, won’t we?”

Harry helped you go over the inspection report once you got it. You asked for some money towards getting the furnace serviced, and the previous owners thought it was a reasonable request. You were able to close a couple of weeks later. Typically the realtor comes to the bank with the buyer on the big day.

“Harry!” Doris squeals as she hugs him. “Great to see you.”

“Same to you.”

“Love when we get to see each other like this.”

“Same here, how’s your son?”

“Oh, he’s great. Y/N, have a seat. We have lots of things to sign.”

You sign what you need to. Doris gives you a gift bag with some wine glasses. Harry hands over a bottle of champagne to you as well. It was very exciting. You were officially a home owner.

“Thank you so much.” You shake Doris’ hand before leaving the bank.

Harry grabs your wrist once you’re both outside.

“Congratulations.”

“Thanks, I literally couldn’t have done it without you.” You give him a quick hug. “My parents are gonna meet me there soon so they can check it out. I think they wanna take me out to eat to celebrate.”

“That’s great.” He clears his throat. “What, uh, what are you doing tomorrow?”

“Continuing to pack.” You laugh. “But, um, I could make myself available in the evening.” You smile.

“I’m having a little pool party tomorrow. Bunch of my friends are coming over, I’d love to have you over too, if you felt comfortable.”

“That sounds amazing! Can I bring anything?”

“Just your beautiful self.”

Your parents were very impressed with your new purchase. You did well. Saturday morning you continued your packing adventure, trying to make sure you properly labeled your boxes. You needed to make sure none of your medical journals got lost.

Even though Harry had offered over and over to teach you how to paint, your parents offered to pay for a painting crew for you, just to make things go faster. Once that was done you’d be able to move. You search your dresser for a suitable bathing suit. You weren’t sure how much skin to actually show.

“Ah ha!” You find your green, strapless one-piece that had a cute cut out in the upper part of the stomach. You’re also able to find a cute cover up dress to throw on over it.

In the latter part of the afternoon, you drive over to Harry’s. You were impressed by the neighborhood he was able to live in. All of the houses were huge. When you pull up to his house you wonder what he needed such a big house for. Maybe he entertained a lot too, just like you did.

You – just pulled up!

Harry Styles - come right around back!

You walk around to where you can hear music playing and people laughing. There were plenty of people already in Harry’s large in-ground pool.

“Y/N!” Harry waves over to you.

Damn, he has a lot of tattoos. You think to yourself.

“Hi, Harry!”

He comes over to you and kisses you on the cheek without really thinking.

“Glad you could make it. Make yourself comfortable. Plenty of food, plenty of pool.” He chuckles.

Harry’s friends were really nice and welcoming, you didn’t feel too out of place. His eyes couldn’t help but scan over your body the second you took your coverup off. Turns out Harry was a master on the grill. He made sure to pay attention to while still being a good host to his friends. It was a fun party. As the night dwindled you wanted to make some sort of move.

“You know, I’ve seen your entire backyard, but I’ve yet to be given a your of your home.”

“You’d like that?”

“It’s only fair, you’ve seen mine.” You wink at him.

He leads you inside.

“Well, you’ve seen the kitchen, obviously.”

He takes you through the first floor and then leads you upstairs. He explains that he has all the extra rooms so his family has their own space for when they come to visit.

“And this is my room, but you don’t have to-“

“No, let’s see it.” You smile.

He smiles back and opens the door. Your jaw drops when you see how much space there is. There were two closets, both filled with nice clothes.

“Come check out the bathroom. I had some work done to it last year.”

“Why do you have a double vanity?”

“For guests.” He blushes. “My last girlfriend actually, she liked having her own sink. Apparently I have too many products and they can get in the way.” He clears his throat. “Anyways, I had everything redone last year. I know a great bathroom guy if you ever wanna update anything.”

“You have a guy for everything.” You giggle. “And you do have a lot of products, two sinks makes sense.” You walk out and back into the bedroom. “So…”

“So…”

“What date number would you consider this to be?”

“Legally, the first…not legally…” He grins. “Think I’ve lost track.” He steps closer to you. “My friends liked you.”

“I liked them.” You wrap your arms around his neck. “And I like you.”

“I like you too.” His hands move to your hips. “And I really like this bathing suit. Haven’t been able to take my eyes off you all day.”

You both smile and continue to make eye contact. Harry looks down at your lips and leans in. He presses his lips to yours, and you find yourself grasping at him to pull him closer. You couldn’t remember the last time you were intimate with someone, but it had definitely been too long. You were ravenous. You open your mouth him and he groans into you. You both shuffle back to the bed and fall on top of it.

“If this feels too fast, just let me know.” He breathes as you move to straddle him.

“Harry, I want you.” You cup his cheek and he moves to kiss your palm. “But, if it feels too fast for you, we can cool it.”

“I want you too, I just wanted to make sure you didn’t feel pressured or anything.”

“I don’t, but thank you.”

You lean down to kiss him again. His hands move to the back of your bathing suit.

“Gotta get this off you.” He grunts.

You get off him to stand up.

“I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.”

“Seems to be our little theme.” He smirks.

Harry stands up and takes his trunks off. Your eyes grow wide when you look down at his hard cock. He steps towards you and helps you out of your swim suit.

“I have a fun idea.” He says as he kisses down your neck. “We’ve been in the sun all day, let’s go hop in the shower.”

You smile at him and nod. He leads you into the bathroom and gets the water in the shower going. He yanks you inside and gets you under the warm water. He backs you up to the wall and press you against it. His hands roam your body as his lips find yours again.

“I’ve thought about this so many times.” He says.

“You have?”

“Mhm, there were so many times in the houses I showed you that I just wanted to take you right then and there.”

He nips at your jaw as his hands knead your breasts. You wrap your arms back around his neck. You feel his hard cock press against your hip and it makes you whimper. One of his hands slides down your stomach. He looks at you to make sure it’s alright and you nod yes.

Your head rolls back against the tile as his fingers slips between your legs. His thumb works your clit while he works two of his fingers inside you.

“Oh my god.” You gasp and grind your hips toward his hand. You reach for his length and start to pump him.

You both were panting. You have to let go of him to clutch onto his shoulders as you release around his fingers.

“Please.” You moan. “Fuck me. I have an IUD.”

Harry kisses you and hooks one of his arms under one of your legs so he can push in at a better angle. You bite down on his bottom lip, causing him to groan loudly.

“You’re so fucking sexy.” He says into your ear as he thrusts in and out of you.

“You feel so good, Harry, fuck.”

He pulls out of you, turns you around, and presses back inside. His chest was flush with your back. You claw at the tile as he rocks in and out of you. One of his hands snakes around to rub your clit and the other works one of your breasts.

You feel a flood of things wash over you, but mostly it was another incredible orgasm. You could get used to this.

“Shit, I’m gonna come. Where do you want it?” He grunts.

“Inside me.”

“Jesus.” He groans and releases inside you. You moan out at the warm feeling.

“This is the softest robe in the world.”

“Glad you like it. You can wear it anytime.”

You both were cuddled up in his bed, munching on some fruit while watching TV.

“Do you have parties like this often?”

“Only when I’ve finally told a tougher home.”

“You were working with someone while working with me? How did you find the time?”

“Babe, I was working with like six other people.” He smirks.

“Doris was right, you are a shark.” You laugh.

“Gotta be able to afford this place, right?” He tucks some hair behind your ear. “You’ll stay tonight? I’m a cuddler.”

“Of course.” You giggle. “I’ll have to have you over for my next game night, you can meet all of my friends.”

“Like I said, I fully expect to be invited to your house warming.”

“That too.”

“But I’d be happy to meet your friends. Are they doctors too?”

“A couple of them are, yeah. We met in med school. Wouldn’t have made it through without them.”

You two stay up for hours, legs tangled in each other, telling each lots of things about one another. It was easy to talk to Harry, it had been since you met. He felt the same about you too. You both knew it wouldn’t be so easy to just get together. Harry’s schedule was unpredictable, and your days were long and tiring. But, neither of you really cared because you both felt like you found your person.

Harry loved game nights with your friends. He was a tad competitive, but it just made for more laughs. You both liked having your separate spaces, but you enjoyed when he could actually spend the night, or when you could spend the night at his place. Neither of you took it personally when the other was too busy or too tired either. Once you felt truly settled, you wrote Doris a thank you note for setting you up with the best realtor and the love of your life.

#harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles fic #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles y/n #harry styles fluff #harry styles smut #harry styles smut fic #enjoy!#realtor!Harry

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