#I would love a sequel with a more lived in building. more people walking around instead of empty set pieces

[foreverisntenough]

‘OURS’

Summary: You were his and he was yours but what would it be like adding one more? Thrust into a whirlwind romance you never could’ve imagined that became your forever love. You continue building a new life across the pond with a very beautiful Scouser. A sequel to the ‘You’re Mine’ fic.

INDEX

Warnings: This series will contain fluff, suggestion, SMUT (unprotected sex,) pregnancy, parenting, mental health struggles, eating disorder, self doubt, body image issues, daddy kink, angst, alcohol consumption - not sure what else really… if i miss anything please lmk!

Note: Thank you for reading! Please be sure to like, comment, or message me what you think of the series! Try not to nitpick with any real pregnant/ baby logistics it’s better if you just read along happily :)

Chapter 22 - Teddy’s Mum | ‘Ours’

You could hear the sounds of a video game blaring from the cinema. Soundproof walls are not all that effective if you don’t shut the door. You shook your head with a smile hearing Marcel yell at Trent. You loved when he was with the people closest to him because you all didn’t treat him like he was some celebrity. You would always treat him like the competitive yet incredibly endearing yapper he was. You were getting married soon, you had a child, but he was very much so a little boy some days. You could hear the boys begin to bicker about mundane rules. Game 203 apparently was just as important as game 1 when they began playing Fifa hours ago. As soon as George and Marcel, Tyler on an off day, entered the house, their ages dropped to about 10 years old. You walked into the room and snuck onto the couch Trent was on and cuddled up to him. He smiled and kissed your head but remained focused on the screen. They were leaving for his stag do tonight. You had decided it would be best to go on alternating weeks so you didn’t have to ask anyone to take care of Teddy although Dianne was adamant that she wouldn’t mind. Trent would go for a few days, come home, and then you’d go. Although your friends felt it was very important that there was no overlap so you wouldn’t see each other for about a week-ish total. Nevertheless the boys  in your cinema plus a few more were off to Ibiza later in the day. It was a big group. Definitely bigger than who was going on yours, the main scaffolding of it was his brothers, George and Jude, and then it was interspersed with more friends who Trent grew up with and teammates from club and country teams.  

“Don’t kiss anyone please.” You whispered quietly to Trent cuddling up impossibly close to him. You were attached to him today. You didn’t want to be apart. Things had been so good lately you weren’t exactly welcoming or wanting for the interruption of the upcoming holidays. 

“Baby, what?” Trent pulled you away from him to get a more full look at your face. He furrowed his brow but soon looked at you with a smug smile. He started to laugh with his bottom lip rolled into a pout mocking you. 

“Just don’t.” You whined with pleading eyes. You leaned your head back dramatically on to him to emphasize your point. The corners of your lips lowered and your eyebrows slanted inward. He kissed the bridge of your nose before pulling you further into his embrace. Your cheek smushed to his chest as he peppered kisses to your hair.

“Okay, okay. I haven’t kissed anyone else in five years but okay, I will be sure not to, baby.” He whispered in a serious muffled voice reassuring you. 

“Y/N, he’s not going to war and we’re not going to be living with sex workers either so you need to relax.”  George laughed at you. You didn’t know he could even hear your complaints so you were annoyed by the joke. You sat up and pulled yourself off Trent to sit up right. 

“Yeah, well, when I go away next week and you have to listen to his clingy ass be worried for a couple days, you get back to me about who needs to relax.” You snapped back. It was a bit of a joke but it always bothered you a smidge that all the boys around you teased you for being so attached to Trent but said zilch to him, when you know for a fact  he was just like you. You pulled your legs up onto the couch and wrapped your arms around your knees to sit in a pout. Trent laughed at your defensive explanation to George. As much as he’d love to deny it, Trent also knew he’d be doing the same thing you were soon enough. He knew he’d definitely be complaining to George as well.

“You’re both clingy as fuck. You lack general independence.” Marcel quipped. “‘Baby, will you come with me three yards to the kitsch... T, you’re too far away.’” Marcel mocked things you probably had actually said to one another at some point. “It’s ridiculous you live in the same house. Get a grip.” He laughed, George joining. You and Trent both rolled your eyes at them. Marcel and George were just giving you a hard time. There was no malintent and you knew that. 

“I love clinging to you.” Trent whispered in your ear, kissing your temple before he wrapped his arm around your shoulders and pulled you back tighter into him. You smiled completely smitten by him ignoring the other boys. 

“I don’t want you to go…” You pouted more when you all left the cinema finally to get ready for their impending departure. They needed to leave soon and you were dreading it. You draped your arms around Trent’s neck and hung off of him as he walked. He bought in to your theatrics and played along carrying you.

“I’m going to sit on a beach, I will come back with a nice tan and will be a couple days closer to making you my wife… That sounds like a good thing to me.” Trent cooed looking down at you as you dramatically let him haul your body weight with him. You sock clad feet dragging across the floor.

“You’re not though. You’re going with Marce and Jude and George and Ty. You’re going to be going out.” You unlatched from him and sat on his luggage by the door as if his Rimowa was a seat. You didn’t have a real problem with him going out; you just wished you’d be there. It was more a feeling of envy than worry. He picked your chin up with his hand. 

“Baby, you will be going out as well in a few days and to be honest, I’d be more worried about Winnie and Lauren’s morals then Marce and Jude’s no offense but more so, most importantly… No one in the world could ever turn my head. I have the most perfect girl right here.” He picked up your hand by your fingers with his free one and dangled it in front of you. Your engagement ring directly in front of you just emphasizing his point and his commitment to you. “Girls can throw themselves at me all they want. Not interested. I’m yours.” He said it like it was meant to make you feel good. But the idea of girls, women, people in general, the millions of people globally that adored Trent would never be an easy pill to swallow. He deserved to be adored. He was amazing. You definitely understood the attraction and the attention, probably more than anyone but sometimes you just wanted him to be your fiance not Trent Alexander-Arnold the footballer, but then again it was one of the reasons you loved him. For all the times you remembered he was this public figure he’d always act like he was just yours, nothing else, just your Trent.

“So you know they’re going to throw themselves at you wherever you're going…” You raised your eyebrows with intrigue. You and Trent, well more so your friends, had made a plan for you and him not to know any finer details of your trips. Sure, you could have general logistics for safety and peace of mind but you weren’t even supposed to talk on the trip either according to them. You could call for Teddy’s sake but outside of that… nope. They were not interested in organizing any time for you and Trent to gush about how much you missed each other on calls every night. 

“Y/N! Drop it! Oh my days, we will bring him back home in one piece, I swear.” Marcel yelled out to you from his place sitting at your kitchen island helping himself to your food. 

“Baby bear, I’m going to miss you so much.” Trent cooed with a dramatic grunt picking Teddy up off the ground like he normally did acting as if she weighed 100 lbs+. Her brow furrowed very confused as to why he would miss her. In Teddy’s mind daddy was home for good now. He had been home so much lately. It was great and now he was saying bye. She wasn’t having that. 

“Dada where?” She cooed tilting her head with a blank face. He rested his forehead against hers as he sat her on the back edge of the couch in the living room. He sighed knowing this conversation with her was going downhill already. She wasn’t the best with goodbyes particularly with him.

“I’m going to go to the beach with Celly, Ty, and Judey for a few days. Go swimming then I’ll be home, yeah?” He cooed with a sympathetic smile. You think Trent thought that’d help her understand why but it probably more so just shed light on the fact that he was leaving to go do something fun that she liked a lot, that she did a lot with him, without her. Marcel came into the living room overhearing his name.

“Nooo!” Teddy shook her head back and forth, not really approving of his reasoning. “No Teddy, no swimmy, dada.” She informed him with her face falling into a grumpy pout. He’d say he didn’t make the face she was pulling but there was no one else she would’ve learned that expression from. It was a look identical to the one he gave often on the pitch and ideally one you’d like to see less of at home. She wanted to make it clear that he couldn’t go swimming without her. 

“Ted, we’re just taking daddy to go swim then we’ll bring him back to you and mummy, alright?” Marcel interjected with a silly grin pinching a chubby roll of her arm trying to get her to smile and release the death grip of a hold she’d had now formed currently on the sleeve of Trent’s shirt  so they could leave for the airport, but she was trying to ensure he wasn’t going anywhere, grip staying in tact. 

“Dada’s mine!” She yelled with real vigor, tears beginning to flood her lash line. It was mere milliseconds before they tipped over the edge rushing down her plump cheeks. She was okay at sharing, learning with toys, food and that, but daddy? Daddy wasn’t on the table, she was not sharing. He was off limits. With you, well, mummy was okay sometimes, it depended on the day. 

“Aw, no, c’mere baby bear. I’m yours. Don’t need to cry. No sad, okay?” Trent spoke in a gentle voice wiping her tears as his heart broke. He pressed kisses incessantly to her hair trying to comfort her. He picked her up off the back of the couch and hugged her tight to his chest. She desperately grabbed at him. He swayed back and forth with her trying to soothe the fit that had kicked off. She clung to him, tears continuing. He handed her to you once she stilled a little but as he was leaving her big brown eyes flooded once again. You gave him a smile saying that it’d be fine but as Teddy got older and more talkative goodbyes were only getting harder. It was a harrowing reminder at how much more she’d be able to talk when next season began. He couldn’t imagine how bad every away game would be after that. 

“I love you, T. Be careful please and call us whenever. Love you so so much.” You whispered hiding your face in the nape of his neck holding him with one arm, Teddy in your other. You pulled away some to give him a proper kiss.

“I love you so much, baby. I won’t kiss anyone the whole time I’m there.” He laughed and you rolled your eyes. “You and Ted better be ready when I come home, alright? Will have to make up for lost time.” He pecked your lips and then Teddy’s forehead. She was hiding against you, still incredibly upset. “I’ll call you tonight.” He cooed with a contrived smile. He hated leaving you and you hated him leaving but you didn’t want to ruin his fun so you kissed his cheek and stepped back. 

“Want to wave bye to daddy?” You asked Teddy. She shook her head ‘no’ with her lip rolling into a pout. Trent grabbed his luggage and walked down the front path to the drive. He waved to you so you picked up Teddy’s hand for her and waved it back and forth against her will. “Bye bye daddy! We love you!” You cooed more for her than him. “Should we blow to daddy a kiss too so he can take it with him?” You whispered, rubbing your nose against her cheek. Her pout pulled into a sad slight smile and she nodded. “Yeah, I think we should.” You helped her with the motion and then tickled her tummy. 

“Mama!!!” She yelped with a giggle, not happy that you were making her laugh when she was trying to make a point of being upset Trent was leaving her. “No! Want dada.” She tried to whine but giggled a little more.

“I know you do but you and I are going to have fun and the time will fly by. Will go by so quick. Zoom!” you blew a raspberry on her tummy. “Zoom!” followed by another raspberry, her laugh only getting louder. “Just like that my Teddy bear and daddy will be home, okay?” You cooed with a smile. 

“Tay mama.” Teddy’s version of ‘okay’ at the moment. She looked at you with a smile and hugged you around your neck. You blew your own kiss to him as Trent’s car pulled out of your drive. Trent couldn’t decide if his heart hurt or was expanding seeing you manage to get Teddy from tears to fits of laughter so quick. He loved how good you were with her but he wanted to be there for it as well. 

“Baby, do you want to take the doggies for a walk? You’re such a big girl, I think you can do it for daddy while he’s away. ” You asked with encouragement as you put Teddy on her own two feet when you entered back into the house. She looked up at you reaching her arm above her head to hold your hand. You didn’t see her waiting though. You were momentarily focused on sending a quick goodbye text to Trent on your phone. 

“Hand, mama!” Teddy demanded not thrilled with the wait time. 

“Oh goodness! I am sorry! Let me hold your hand, baby. Let’s get the doggies and go outside, okay?”  She nodded and walked with you. She found a lot of comfort holding your hand. It was the best of both worlds. She got to be independently walking but still had the security and confirmation you were with her. You opened the big glass doors out to your back garden after rallying the dogs. You took your dogs on regular walks but this was more of an activity with Teddy to distract her and prevent any more tears then it was a part of their routine. You gave her two much shorter leashes hooked to their collars and she held them both. Your dogs didn’t need leashes. They were well trained. Thankfully they were really gentle and calm around her as well so she got on with them. She walked them into the lawn with a giddy grin proud of herself. 

“Mama look! Doggies and Teddy!” She giggled excitedly looking back towards you until she got tripped up not paying attention and tumbled forward. The dogs were first to react coming to stand beside her, licking her face. “Ick! No! Doggies no!” She yelled laughing. She was fine, you knew she was. This happened all the time. The first time you probably panicked but now, not so much. You sat on the grass and let her get up on her own. You didn’t want to coddle her too much. You didn’t want there to be a big divide between how you were with her and how Trent was. You knew when they were together she’d fall and he’d be very reassuring that she was okay and just needed to pick herself back up. He treated Teddy the same way he probably would a son when it came to games and sports, her toughness and you appreciated that. You took a picture of them all tangled up and sent it to Trent. 

‘Going really well without you lol. Don’t know if we’ll survive. Missing you sm already, baby. 😘’

The gaggle of very excited boys arrived in Ibiza for the stag do. The plan was to work out, sit at the beach, drink more tequila than necessary, eat plenty of food at dinner, then go to a club, and repeat…maybe throw a boat day in there as well. It sounded fun to be fair. 

“Why are you under the blankets?” You giggled, answering a Facetime from Trent. He had landed and gone straight to bed. It was late and they had planned to start the festivities the following morning. You could tell he had the comforter of the bed pulled over top of his head. It made you smile because he wasn’t doing it to be cute or funny, he felt like he had to and his naivety and pureness was really adorable. 

“Because I’m not supposed to be talking to you, baby.” He explained seriously but snapped into a cheeky smile excited to be talking to you. 

“You’re very silly. I love you, T.” You laughed quietly rolling from your back to your side in your bed. You leaned the phone onto his pillow next to you pretending like he was still with you, a far too familiar feeling. 

“I love you so much, beautiful. Wish I was in bed with you right now.” He cooed, inspecting your current state back at home in your bed. “Ted was okay after I left?” He asked with a tinge of concern. He knew what your answer would be but he wanted the confirmation.  

“She’s fine. She’s just dramatic like you.” You gave him a cheeky smile. He rolled his eyes at your jab. “No, she is but neither of us really like when daddy leaves, you know that.” You kept talking harping on the fact that yes, she missed him but so did you. He hummed “She was fine. Mummy maybe not so much. I miss you, baby.” You cooed. Things had finally settled after a really rocky month so being apart felt harder than ever despite the frequency at which you typically did this. 

“I miss you so much. I know it’ll be fun tomorrow but I just want to have a good cuddle in bed with my girl right now.” He whispered still keeping his voice low so none of the boys in the house heard him ‘breaking the rules.’

“What are you wearing?” You asked him with a raised eyebrow very aware he didn’t have a shirt on. The idea of having Trent with no clothes on all hot in bed in Spain sounded amazing right now.   

“Oh… want to know what I’m wearing, huh? I’m trying to be all sweet and here you are trying to get me to start having phone sex with you. Sheesh, is that all I am to you?” He teased you. You rolled your eyes with a shy smile. “Nah, baby. Just in boxers you already know how I sleep.” He finally answered your original question. 

“Mmm yum. I wish I was there.” You giggled keeping your focus on the idea of having his body in bed with you right now. 

“Yeah, trust me. I’d love it if you were here right now. I know you’re in those pajamas I like which is rude considering I’m not there. That thin top is a tease by the way and you know it.” He explained knowing exactly which pair he was talking about. The top was a thin ribbed cotton that left absolutely nothing to the imagination. “Those little shorts that frankly… are not shorts.” He continued while he held his hands up in innocence. “I’m not complaining though, I just wish I was there to appreciate it” 

“I am… If you don’t like that I’m in this, I'd love it if you were here to just peel it off me.” You cooed pulling one of the thin straps down your shoulder and then back up. You ‘adjusted’ your position in bed but really you were just teasing Trent with a new more full angle of your body. 

“Ugh baby.” He groaned, shutting his eyes.  “I’m not gonna have a wank while I’m in a villa with them. Come on, don't do this to me.” He complained and you gave him a greedy smile. 

“Morning baby bear. You look so sleepy. Did you have a good snooze?” Trent asked Teddy over another facetime mere hours after your last one although this one was sanctioned, the one last night was a secret. She nodded tiredly, rubbing her hands over her eyes in an uncoordinated way. She was leaning back against a couch cushion lazily relaxing as if she had had a big night out yesterday. “I heard you walked the doggies for me yesterday” He cooed with a smile watching her perk up a little at the mention of the dogs. She loved them. She knew it was sort of Trent’s domain to take care of the dogs, walks, feeding, etc, so she wanted to be with them to be like daddy of course. 

“Walk doggies ‘side, dada!” Teddy attempted her best confirmation and explanation that she had ‘walked the dogs outside’ yesterday. 

“Wow! Thank you, baby! Such a big girl taking care of them. Can you take care of one more thing for me?” He asked her another question. Teddy tilted her head waiting to hear what it was patiently.You held the phone for her and she sat on the couch next to you her little legs out with her feet beginning to wiggle. A cute smile forming very excited to be talking to him. “Can you take care of mummy for me while I’m away?” Trent cooed gently with a smug smile obviously knowing you could hear. 

“Tay.” Teddy agreed although she probably didn’t know what taking care of you really entailed. It was just a way for Trent and you to connect without any complaints from the boys sitting at the kitchen table next to him making sure this was a call to his daughter not to his fiance. 

“We love mummy so much, right? So make sure you tell her and give lots of kisses from daddy.” He explained to her. She turned her head to look at you and tumbled forward trying to give you a hug. She just wrapped her chubby arms around your leg next to her.

“Lub mama most.” Teddy cooed with a giggle nuzzling her face into your thigh before pushing herself back upright clumsily.

“Tedddy girl, hi!!!” Jude interrupted their conversation leaning over Trent behind his chair, pinching in between his shoulders. She let out a shy hi. This was Jude’s politest way to tell Trent to end the call they wanted to start their day. 

“Alright, bye baby. I’ll call you in a little. I love you. Gimme kiss.” He cooed, leaning his face a little closer to the phone. Teddy pushed her lips out towards yours. “Mwah! Bye, beautiful. Love you.” Trent turned his attention to you as you moved your phone back to you. 

“Love you, T.” You cooed sweetly wishing you could give him a kiss but you didn’t want the teasing from all the boys so you hung up. 

Trent didn’t really want to show the drunk kid, who he thought Trent was now his best friend, pestering what you looked like. He didn’t want to hear the ruckus that would naturally come up, very aware of the reaction you’d get. They had run into a group of boys they knew from England at a beach club. They invited them to join in a private area. Trent didn’t care. It'd be more fun with more people but he was very aware when people’s demeanors would change just because of who he was or what he had access to. Jude in the mix only amplified that. It was cool to hang out but they didn’t need to be all over him. They didn’t need to be his best friend. A few of them clung to him and that wasn’t exactly his vibe. Marcel pulled up your instagram on his phone anyways and showed it to the new boys who were insistent despite Trent’s desire to not.

“Aye!” Trent yelled attempting to snatch the phone from them. He couldn’t exactly hide you but he wasn’t trying to make a spectacle of this either. Most of the boys were already long gone, they’d been drinking since morning, despite his best efforts to take it easy he wasn’t far behind. 

“Mate… she’s so leng, fuck.” The boys ogled as they scrolled through your Instagram profile. Trent rolled his eyes but couldn’t suppress his proud smile. 

“I guess this is what that prem salary gets you.” Another boy added. “Oh my god!” He exclaimed in shock seeing you and Winnie together in a post. You didn’t think you looked alike but if you were together you could definitely tell you were related.

“You run through both?” One boy made a very crude comment that caused a lot of heads to turn in the group. Trent could run with the jokes. He was a boy's boy but talking about you in any sort of way like this didn’t go over well. Jude, Tyler, George, and Marcel all knew that very well so they were waiting for some reaction. 

“Nah. I got my hands full with my girl.” Trent tried to just make the whole conversation stop. Jude felt a bit of relief wash over him considering he had to break up a fight in the club back on your holiday in Greece.  

“Yo, can we have a theeesome, sweetheart?” Marcel heard the additional group of boys speak into his phone. Panic and chaos began to ensue. Trent overheard and felt sick. He was praying it was not a call to you. These idiot boys, the ultimate lads on tour at the beach club, had called you off Marcel’s phone. You got nervous something was wrong so naturally you answered it. 

“You let him hit everyday?” “How often do you let him blow your back out?” “Do you let him fuck your sister too.”  “Did you have the baby to get the bag?” “Are you getting fucked in the ass?” “Are you gonna let him fuck around still after the wedding?”

The questions flooded in so fast and so slurred and muffled by the loud music your head was spinning. Who even was talking to you. You played it off and just said you had to go trying to end the torture that was not a funny joke but a very inappropriate overstep. One of the boys that Trent probably knew best from this other group pinned him down to a couch, preventing him from being able to get up. That’s when he was very certain this was a call to you. This was excruciating. He felt sick. Jude eyes widened and his eyes darted around trying to figure out what the fuck was going on. 

“Get the fuck up, bro. Enough. Thats fucking enough.” Jude grabbed the kid off of Trent, throwing him off to the side. Marcel scrambled to grab his phone back shoving one of the other boys but only really eliciting more of a physical altercation. Tyler was swift though and snatched the phone back. 

“That’s my fucking sister. Don’t fucking talk to or about like that again bro.” Tyler yelled with real anger. You could hear the whole thing unfolding. You started crying. You weren’t sure if it was their comments or the fear or the defense of the boys, or the fact that you really couldn’t make out what was happening. They thought they hung up the call… they didn’t.  Tyler handed the phone back to Marcel and he pocketed it thinking it was done but the conversation continued. 

“Mate… what the fuck was that?!” George yelled getting fairly aggressive with one of the other boys. He really wanted to fight… That’s what felt like was going to ensue to be honest.

“It’s his stag do! We’re just having a laugh. Relax. We’re not actually interested in her. She’s committed to that bag.” The one boy chuckled really thinking this was a funny bit. What wasn’t funny was all of the boys knowing very well the intense month you and Trent had just gone through and how much something like this probably wouldn’t help. 

“She’s too thin for me anyways. I’m not into birds like that plus once she’s had a baby… nah, mate I’m out. There’s no way that’s still a good shag anymore.” Another one from their group chimed in and that was really the nail in the coffin. You started uncontrollably crying in bed. You hung up not being able to hear anymore.

“Get the fuck out of our section, bro. Don't ever try to come up to me or any of my friends or brothers if we see you again. Fuck you.” Trent walked up to the real instigator of the whole thing physically pushing him towards the ropes of the area. The rest of the trip felt like a blur to Trent. He tried to talk to you more and everyone was definitely more lenient, letting the whole ‘don’t talk to your fiance’ thing go given the beach club incident but you were fairly shut off after it all. 

“I know you’ll say I’m a melt but I hate not hearing from her. It’s making me so nervous. I feel like something is off.” Trent looked at Tyler as they sat at the beach. 

“I wouldn’t say you’re a melt. I mean  you usually are but we talked to her an hour ago mate. I think she’s fine.” Tyler looked at Trent empathetically but really didn’t get why he felt so concerned. Trent knew better. He could feel the vibes, some sort of tension shift and rise. 

“Talking to my 2 year old daughter while Y/N holds her isn’t exactly like hearing from her. I just am so on edge now sometimes. What if something is wrong. What if she’s hiding shit again, bro.” Trent rambled nervously looking at Tyler for some sort of calm reassurance he typically provided.

“You said you guys were good. She was committed to getting some help. You’re being transparent with her, she’s being more open with you…” Tyler paused and felt a wave of nerves rush through his own system. He hoped that was what had been happening. “Right? Things have been good lately. Marce said the goodbye before the holiday was a little like… I don’t know more emotional than he thought it’d be but things are good?” Tyler gave Trent a sort of pouty smile.

“Yeah…” Trent shook his head. “Yeah, they are fine I think. They have been but I just feel so much better when I am with her. It’s not that I don’t trust her or don’t think she can do things without me. I just find so much comfort being together… I know, I know I am sop I hear it but I just…” He paused again and turned away, staying out onto the horizon instead of his brothers. “You have no idea what those days felt like. The idea of losing her is just sickening to me. I need her.” Trent continued his vent but Tyler spotted the other boys returning from the bar with drinks. 

“Hey… You’ve got her mate. She’s not going anywhere. You two are good. It’s all good. Enjoy the beach for a little. Facetime Ted in a little or something, show her the water, just try to be present. If you’re stuck in your head worrying about back at home.... It’ll just make it worse.” He tapped Trent’s knee for comfort and for closure of a fairly serious conversation before the ruckus returned. 

You sat on the floor of the shower as the water cascaded over you. You watched it all slosh down the drain and you wish you could just run down with it. You hugged your knees tight to your chest. You had to get Teddy up from her nap soon but you just need a moment to wallow. To the general public, for anyone, for any mum, your body really had bounced back. Objectively you were really fit. You looked great but you felt horrendous, you didn’t believe it. All you were thinking about was the questions hurled at you over the phone. You didn’t bring it up. You brushed it off and told Trent you couldn't hear a thing they had said. You shouldn’t have lied but you didn’t want to ruin his trip. You didn’t eat the next two days though either. You skipped your appointment at the clinic which you were sure would bite you in the ass but at the moment you couldn’t give a fuck. 

“Dada swimmy. Mama and Teddy swimmy too.” Teddy looked at you trying to pull your hand out to your back garden after another facetime with Trent from the beach. You couldn’t think of anything you wanted to do less than put on a bathing suit right now but you’d do anything for her. These were the moments you needed to be strong for her. 

“Yeah, okay Teddy bear. Let’s get our bathing suits on and me and you can go in the pool.” You cooed with a sad smile. She squealed and excitedly crawled up the stairs. You helped her change. You went for a one piece that you’d always loved and was probably one of your more covered, modest suits but it still was hard. You carried her outside and let the dogs out with you. It should’ve been a really fun afternoon but your heart felt like it was sinking at the bottom of the pool. 

“Mama taste!” Teddy looked at you with a big smile mirroring Trent’s often childish grin, dimples indenting into her cheeks. She was holding a red ice lolly dripping down her hands shoving it towards you. You did not want it. You did not want the calories you did not want the sugar, not even a taste, but you held her hand in yours and licked it dramatically with a overzealous ‘mmmm’

“Yummy, baby! Thank you for sharing with me. Do you know what color that is?” You asked her, swiping your thumb over her plump pout catching a running droplet of it’s juice. She furrowed her brow thinking for a moment. 

“Wed!” She yelled excitedly, fairly confident she was right. She was. It was ‘red’ but you’d take ‘wed’ as an acceptable answer.

“And what color does daddy wear when he plays footie, baby? What color is his jersey? Is it the same as this?” You asked her with a smile. She definitely was developing Trent’s desire to win. She loved to be right. She loved to succeed and she loved the feeling of you praising her so you fed into it. You wanted her to be confident, miles more confident than you’d ever be. 

“Wed! Mama!” She squealed again. “Dada in wed!” She grabbed at you. Her sticky hand covered in red juice pressing into your thigh. You couldn’t not laugh. You hummed and nodded your head. 

“That’s right! Daddy wears red. You’re just the smartest, huh baby?” You giggled. You took a few photos of your very messy but happy little girl at the pool to send to Trent before you grabbed a towel. “Okie dokie, Teddy girl. Let’s get you cleaned up, yeah?” You whipped her hands with the towel you hoped wouldn’t stain and scooped her up making your way inside. 

The stag do eventually holiday ended. The boys were flying back this morning and you were flying out in the afternoon. That was the plan. You hated the plan but that was it. You drove to Dianne’s early that day with Teddy for her to watch her until Trent got back. 

“Be good for nana please, okay. I love you so much and I’ll see you soon.” You cooed holding Teddy tight to you. You really didn’t want to leave her. The idea of partying in bikinis wasn’t exactly sounding all that great anymore whereas cuddling with your baby girl was. 

“Where mama?” Teddy looked at you fairly confused. She was having the greatest time and now it was like every couple days you or Trent were leaving. She clung to you, bawling your shirt in her tiny hand.

“Daddy will be with you soon and you can call mummy whenever, my teddy bear.” You pouted at her. Eventually you got her to let go giving her a tearful kiss as Dianne tried to calm her down. You took your uber to the Manchester airport and despite the summer heat you wore a sweat set with the hood up the entire time not wanting to be seen or spotted. You had just planned to meet all the girls there. You didn’t want to make a big fuss about this ‘hen do.’ Honestly you wanted it to be over already but it would be nice to get some sun and to see Winnie and Lauren and a few other friends. Without fail they knew how to make you smile. They of course organized a very dramatic over the top welcome for you once you arrived at your hotel in Nice, France. You wanted to go somewhere calm but still a bit fun. Lauren suggested it, her mum was there a lot and you were down. In turn, that’s where you’d be for the next few days. 

Trent got home from the airport but really just dropped his luggage inside as quick as possible before he popped in the car to head to his mum’s to grab Teddy. He let himself inside Dianne’s and sat on a bench by the door taking off his trainers but he probably only got one lace untied before little bare feet slapping the tiled floor were sprinting towards him. 

“Dada!!” Teddy squealed, before finally reaching him and hugging his leg ardently. 

“Oh my goodness. My baby bear! I missed you. Give me one second to take my shoes off, yeah?” He laughed as she clung to him incessantly determined not to let go now that he was finally back. 

“No!” She giggled with a greedy smile. 

“No?” He looked at her with a stupid grin. He picked her up and threw her over his shoulder. “Where’s my mummy, huh?” Trent said it knowing it would be a bit of a conversion starter. Teddy's face twisted very confused by the comment. He moved her off his shoulder and sat her on the kitchen counter finding Dianne there. He gave her a hug before he looked back at Teddy’s disgruntled face. “Did you have fun at my mummy’s house, Ted?” Trent asked with an annoyingly smug smile. 

“Dada no… not mama. Nana.” She looked at him, tears starting to welle. She didn’t like this. Trent was just stirring the pot knowing she wouldn’t really be able to wrap her head around that someone other than you was mummy.

“Trenty… stop. Aw Teddy girl Daddy is just being silly. You’re right I’m nana but did you know that I’m daddy’s mummy.” Dianne tried to stop Trent’s unnecessary teasing. 

“Baby, just like you have mummy, I have a mummy too. Make sense?” He laughed really enjoying a very stupid way of having fun. 

“Nooo, it’s nana! My mama best.” Teddy yelped, annoyed that this whole thing didn’t make sense to her. 

“You’re right sweetheart. We had fun today, right? Teddy girl and nana had a lot of fun.” Dianne cooed, stroking her hand over her hair before placing a kiss on her forehead. Teddy nodded with a cute scowl fixed on Trent. . 

“Alright, alright.” Trent held his hands up admitting his defeat that this was Nana and not his mum to Teddy. “Let’s get you home, yeah?” He picked her up and rested her on his hip. He walked over and gave Dianne a kiss on the cheek. “Say thank you please.” Trent looked at Teddy waiting for her. She gave her standard ‘tanks’ in response. Trent looked at Teddy purposefully with a cheeky smile. “Bye mum! See you later.” He cooed one last time before leaving Dianne’s house. 

“Dada!!!! Noooo!” Teddy yelled frustrated he was continuing on. She pulled at the neck of his shirt. He just kissed her repeatedly till she fell into a fit of giggles instead of annoyance. 

“What’s the best sex you’ve ever had?” Winnie asked you and Lauren as she layed on her stomach kicking her feet back and forth beside a pool. She didn’t even pick her head up. She just dropped the blunt question like it was nothing. You shook your head but of course you knew you were going to have to answer. She wouldn’t have it any other way.  

“Go on Y/N…  Give us something good. What has Trent Alexander-Arnold's real best performance been?” Lauren teased asking waving her Aperol Spritz for you to elaborate. 

“You’ll both answer too, right?”  You looked at them. Both girls giving you obvious ‘duh’ faces. Lauren and Winnie wouldn’t miss an opportunity to talk about their sex lives. You shuffled in your seat fixing your position leaning forward a little like it would be some sort of a secret. “Okay… there was this one night right?” You began talking. Winnie and Lauren’s face’s lit up with excitement. “I don’t even remember when this was exactly but it was when we had really started to like want a baby and he just got so controlling and I… every time was just so fucking sexy but this one time. God, the way he treated me just hit different.”

“T… I want you to get me pregnant.” You whispered in between messy kisses. Trent groaned hearing you and unclasped your bra subtly as you sat back on your bed. His perfect pouty lips quick to come and latch around your nipple, his hand playing, pulling, and pinching the other. You moaned but not before he pulled away and roughly shoved you backwards onto the mattress. He swiftly pulled off your panties and spread your legs. He dragged his fingers through your folds admiring your pussy. 

“You’re so fucking perfect baby… always so wet for me, hmm?” He cooed, speaking painfully close to your aching core. His hot breath on your pussy making you twitch. You tried to close your legs but his hands were faster pushing your knees apart. “Nah, don’t get shy on me now. Let me see this pretty pussy.” He let out a breathy laugh spreading your legs wider. He slipped his fingers inside and moved his thumb to toy with your clit. He teased you endlessly, edging you close to an orgasm before he’d stop and then begin again. “Gonna fill you up baby… make you take my cum, yeah?” Coming up to whispered into your ear. You let out a desperate moan. That was all you wanted. He fliped you over onto your stomach and your back arched instinctively. When Trent took control, when he dominated you in bed it had you fucking dripping and right now was no different. He pumped his cock a few times and guided the tip to rub over your clit teasingly before continuing the excruciating wait at your entrance. You moved your ass back into him eagerly. He slapped you ass harshly but simultaneously in one swift movement he pushed his cock fully inside of you. You let out a gasp and he let out a groan. He gave you a moment to adjust but despite his gentle slow movements you were whimpering at the size inside of you. It didn’t take long for his pace to increase. Your lips parting in sheer bliss. You were almost silent, too consumed by the pleasure. “You like this, baby? Gotta tell me, beautiful. I wanna hear you” He smacked your ass again harshly then smoothing over it. 

“T! Oh my god… more, please. Fuck me.” You whined as he took your cue and pounded into your harder. He pulled your hair and your neck jerked to try to see more of his gorgeous face as he railed into you. He smirked seeing yours. He released his hold of your hair and you fell down into the pillows. Your face smushed against them by the force of his thrusts. 

“You want this baby? Want me to fuck you full of my cum? Get you pregnant.’” He grunted as you moaned at his words. His hand reached around you to play with your clit. Your walls squeezing tighter around him. He continued telling you all the nasty things you wanted to hear that were contrasting to the very loving outcome you both were looking for. “You’re made just f’me. Everyone will know you’re mine. Make you a mummy. Carry my baby. That right? You want everyone to know I’m the one that fucks you? For everyone to know who you belong to, right?” 

“Yes, Yes, T, please. I want your cum. God, yes” You cried out. The only thing you could think about was his perfect hard cock filling you up. The veins running along his length feeling euphoric. His pace was perfect, his hands on you felt perfect, his thrusts were perfect, he was perfect. You were close to cumming. A ring of your cream forming at the base of his cock. That alone had Trent trying his very best not to release right then. “Ah fuck, babt. Feels so good. I’m all yours. Make me yours” You continued to squeeze around him overwhelmed by the pleasure of him inside of you unable to maintain control of yourself anymore, your high crashing over you as your eyes shut tight. 

“Fuck, baby. Take my cock so well.” He pulled out after letting your ride out your orgasm for a little then swiftly flipping you over. He gave you his devastatingly handsome smile seeing your fucked out expression. Instinctually your legs wrapped around him needing more. You dragged your nails down his muscular back pulling him into you. He lined his cock up with your sopping wet pussy.  The thrusts of his cock falling back into perfect rhythm hitting your g spot again and again. Trent needed to cum now. He couldn’t handle much more. That said, that meant you’d be cumming again. He’d have it no other way. Your eyes rolled back as he managed to push that much deeper inside you. You pulled him down onto you with pure adrenaline, you had very little strength left. You bit onto his shoulder stifling a scream. You marked him everywhere. He wanted people to know you were his, he told you that. You were doing just the same without a word. Scratches, bite marks, bruises. “C’mon baby. Give me one more than I’m gonna fill you up. Such a good girl f’me.” He whispered into your ear through grunts of pleasure. Keeping to his word, another orgasm crashed over you, cumming around his cock once again. 

“Please, please, please, T… I need you.” You begged him. Your brain was complete mush. You were the dictionary definition of cock drunk. He continued thrusting until he slowed pushing into you one more time stilling. A moan escaping him as he released inside of you. He slowly moved a little more making sure his cum was deep inside you. His forehead fell onto yours. He kissed the bridge of your nose. 

“I love you.I love you so much. So so good f’me.” He breathily gout out as his chest heaved over top of you. You smiled up at him. He carefully pulled out and watched his cum leaking from you. Not to put any to waste he pushed his fingers with it back inside of you. He pulled them out and brought them covered in his release to your curled grinning lips. You opened your mouth for him instinctively. You swirled your tongue around his fingers greedily with a suck. “My good girl.” 

“I love you.” You whispered while he rolled over to your side quick to pull your body back into his, not wanting to be apart. You cuddled into his warm slightly sweaty chest. His hands caressing your spent body. 

“Jesus… You might as well have just started to call him daddy at that point.” Lauren laughed, her eyes wide hearing about your detailed escapade.  

“I mean… Well, fine." You giggled. "What’s like a kink you hide then?”  You asked with a cheeky smile. 

“Oh degrade me. Please.” Winnie was quick to respond. She shuffled in her seat, not ashamed in the slightest.

“There it is.” Lauren laughed. You all knew that was something Winnie was into. 

“I’ve definitely fallen into the daddy thing” You shyly admitted hiding your face behind your towel. You couldn’t see but Lauren and Winnie rolled their eyes. It was a little obvious. “You know what else though…” You laughed, dropping the towel, deciding to bite into the conversation. “What's it called? Like a breeding kink? I think I’m into that. Like get me pregnant.” You laughed while taking a sip of your cocktail. 

“That is my fucking nightmare but yeah, clearly, Y/N. We just heard about it in detail.”  Winnie screamed muddied with a laugh. Lauren’s jaw dropped, shaking her head. 

“I think it’s hot…” You continued to giggle. Maybe you were drunker than you thought revealing your secrets. 

“That checks out though, you do have a baby.”  Lauren said with a more calm demeanor. It wasn’t really a secret though. it was very evident that was something you were into.

“Okay, we had Teddy because we wanted a baby. It wasn’t that* kinky.” You attempted to defend yourself. You actually wanted to start a family but the process of doing so was definitely very fun. 

“But wasn’t it?” Winnie teased. “Any plans for number two? I wouldn’t mind another cutie hanging around.” She asked with a big smile thinking of how fun it had been to be an aunt. 

“Well, I mean for you…yeah it’s just hanging around with her. For me it's a lot different.” You imagined all the diapers, the crying, god, the labor pains. “I want to but I’m… I’m scared. It almost pushed me over the edge last time.” You cooed a bit more sheepishly.

“Of course but Y/N you will be okay if it’s something you really want. Teddy makes you so happy. I know it was hard but I think if you want it, you’d be fine.” Lauren cooed, rubbing her hand over your thigh with reassurance.

“We’ll also be more conscientious if you decide that you do, knowing what we do. Trent will always be there as well.” Winnie chimed in with a soft smile. They really meant it. They believed you would be okay. 

“You think?” You asked them but began to question the comments made by strangers over the phone on Trent’s stag do.  “Like you think he’d ever not want the whole family thing? As much as he’s like my T… He’s also like a big deal, a footballer or whatever. He could have anything he wanted.  Like if I looked different or later on when I’m older, he could drop me?” You let your inner thoughts seep out, likely fueled by the alcohol in your system.

“Y/N stop!” Lauren snapped. “Are you insane?” You looked at her sadly hearing her tone. “No, I'm not going to be nice right now… That’s crazy. Firstly, no, he’d not leaving you ever. He’s grossly obsessed with you and you need to realize that. He’s not just fucking you because.” She explained with real vigor.

“That makes me so sad, Y/N. Like sick almost. You’re a fucking big deal. Fine, he’s good at a sport, so what? He lucked out meeting you. He’d never get someone better, you couldn’t pay for something better. You can’t buy what you two have. Also, you’re a fucking smoke. You’ll be 50 and still snatched and on the off chance you aren’t  I don’t think that’s something he’s even concerned about. He’s worshiping the ground you walk on. You gotta gas yourself up a little.” Winnie ratted on passionately backing up Lauren’s statements.

“Thank you!” Lauren cooed, pushing Winnie in agreement. “Stand up, Y/N. Get up!” Lauren began to yell at you pulling you up from your lounger. She grabbed at the sarong around your waist, pulling it off, leaving you in just your bikini. She grabbed her phone, an impromptu photoshoot ensuing. If you didn’t have two of the probably most supportive people in your life yelling at you to do so and maybe the 5 cocktails coursing through your system you’d have shrugged it off but instead you were giving. Photo after photo after photo and they were all spicy. You ended up laying on the sand sans bikini top.  

“Post that. Post it now. Mums don’t look like that. He's dumb if he’d ever question this.” Winnie slapped your ass. 

“He wouldn't ever. Go on Teddy’s mum.” Lauren squealed, swiping through the photos she’d taken and so you did. You did post them. In feed, on your story, Winnie and Lauren resharing, the photo’s flooded Trent’s phone. His eyes widened as he leaned his back in his chair sitting back at home at the kitchen table eating lunch with your daughter. He blinked his eyes a few times and zoomed in on your body on full display. 

“Jesus christ.” He mumbled quietly. He tried not to excite himself too much but he could feel the blood rushing to his cock. What the hell did you just post? He slid into your DMs

‘Oh my fucking days, get home to me right now 🤤 ’

You thought it was funny. It made you happy and flattered he saw it and messaged you. Yes, you were marrying him but it was still a nice feeling. While you were at lunch you snuck to the restroom to send him a cheekier picture just for him, something the internet would never see. 

“You’re embarrassing…” Winnie teased you as you gleamed looking at your phone. Your cheeks were pulled so high when you returned to the table.

“He’s hot and cute, stop… Leave me alone! What do you want me to do!” You waved her off sitting back down in your seat reading his response to the photo. 

Trent laid in bed that night dying to talk to you. He was trying to abide by the same rules you had stuck to and then he saw it. ‘Alexander-Arnold’s American stuns on the French coast.’ A Daily Mail article surfacing resharing all your instagram posts and then when he opened Instagram, Footballer Fits claiming you were the more stylish of the two turning out looks not only sharing a lot of your previous posts but these were there were minimal clothes involved, Wags accounts filing with the photos, it was all over footballing Twitter. They were sexy photos Trent of course agreed but he wasn’t exactly thrilled images of you were being spread like wildfire across the internet. Jealousy was running through his veins, boiling as he did the worst thing and began reading all the comments. Post after post, analyzing like after like, your following count soaring. Trent felt a possessiveness over you he often did but usually it was in a loving protective way, right now, this was a possessiveness that was raging with envy and disapproval. Reading men in the comments lewdly commenting about your body and what Trent must do with you at home. He must’ve typed and deleted replies 100 times. What he wanted to do was tell them all that you were his fucking girl and to stop all this.  It wasn’t long after you got home from your night that Trent checked your location again and gave you a call. It was a slow start to the conversation but it progressed as you imagined it would. 

“You’re my girl, you’re my baby’s mum. You're marrying me.” Trent selfishly mumbled into the phone unable to wrangle in his jealousy. 

“T… Who do you think you’re telling this to? I know all that. Why are you being so weird?” You whispered laying in your bed. You rolled over on your stomach switching your call to speaker to go see the onslaught of attention you were receiving online he was so worked up over. 

“I’m not. You just… you can’t be doing this.” Trent muttered again, very aware what he was saying wasn’t the most sound of arguments.  

“Doing what exactly? Because I had a baby I am not allowed to look good anymore? Because I’m with you, other people can’t think I look good?” You snipped back slightly annoyed. He just let out a sigh. You were running on minimal sleep and too many drinks, Trent consumed by missing you and overwhelming jealousy. “It’s as if you like when I’m insecure because you know I won’t feed into the attention or something. It’s a few photos, Trent” You blurted out a little harsher. You could feel the palpable tension despite being countries apart. 

“Baby... I’m sorry. I know that’s not fair to say. I’m sorry I never want you to feel like I want that. You should be far from insecure. I’m being childish… I just…” He sighed. “You looked good alright. You looked really fucking good and I don’t want to share. I know the world should fucking rave over you, they all were drooling over you, as they should but you’re for me… I don’t want you to be for anyone else.” He sheepishly admitted coming to realize his possessiveness was not meant to make you feel bad and maybe pushing the wrong agenda.

“You are being childish but T… Come on baby. I am just for you. It’s a look, can’t touch type thing.” You giggled a little laughing at how ridiculous he was acting over some internet conversations. 

“Fucking right they can’t touch you. I’ll be a child about. You’re so beautiful, baby. I’m so lucky. I just… I was jealous seeing other people talking about you like you were something they got to have.” He continued. “I hated seeing other people talk about wanting to see more, getting off to you. Like fuck off, that’s for me.” 

“For you toooo…” You cheekily asked with a smirk on the other end of the phone line. 

“Yeah, yeah baby. Have a laugh about it. You… pictures like that… That’s for me to get off too.” He admitted and even though he felt a little stupid saying it, it simultaneously was really boosting your ego. “I’m trying to watch our baby, which by the way is another reason I don’t want all these fucking lads taking about you, looking at you, you’re the mother of my child but I’m trying to eat lunch, we had mac and cheese which she didn’t love and was upset  because I had got the wrong shapes but anyways.” You giggled hearing his mind running a mile a minute loving the interjecting thoughts and updates about Teddy and him at home. To say Trent could yap would be a massive understatement. The boy could talk and at a meteoric pace. “I’m being told the pasta is the wrong shape, meanwhile I’m trying not to fucking get hard having to wait till she goes to sleep because my absolute sort of a fiance.. No, sorry scratch that you’re already my wife in my mind, posting all types of content rubbing it in my face that I’m not there to see it first hand. I’m getting the same treatment as some random geez. You’re laying there without a top on and I’m supposed to what? pretend I’m not seeing it… God you looked so fucking hot.” He took a breath after his soliloquy.

“Thank you.” You giggled pretty smug with yourself that you had caused such a reaction. “So did you take care of it once Teddy was asleep.” You asked him with your cheeks beginning to hurt from smiling. He hummed a grunt unamused he was having to admit this all to you. “And you didn’t call for any help?”

“I wasn’t supposed to!” He yelped. “Also, you gave me and the whole fucking internet quite a bit to work with.” He let out a soft laugh. “Baby, you’re so gorgeous, you’re so sexy. I know you never believe me but god, you’ll be 70 years old and trust me… I’ll still be getting turned on just the same. You are stunning. My absolute dream woman. I was desperate.” 

“I like to hear that, T…” You whispered readjusting in your bed. “I am always yours. Don’t forget it, don’t ever have to question who I belong to but definitely don't ever stop telling me you like me. That you’re desperate for me” You giggled. 

“I tell you everyday! I wish I could just grab you right now and kiss you all over. Tell you I like you, I love you, I worship that body. I’m desperate for you right now” He frantically tried to get you to understand just how much he loved you. “That fucking body is all mine and I cannot wait till you get home. I’m gonna show you just how much I do love you, alright?”

“Okay… I can’t wait.” You giggled. You said goodnight and plugged your phone in to charge but not before you got a notification from Instagram.

Trentarnold66 tagged you in their story. ‘Luckiest man in the world. Bagged an absolute worldie 🥵🥵Come home now, Y/N.’

•

Thank you for reading! Please like, comment, or message what you think of the chapter 🤍

Next part - Chapter 23 xx

[toasttt11]

past

April 4, 2024

Maddox and Trevor were sitting out on their balcony on the outside couch enjoying one of the first days of warm weather.

Trevor was sitting between Maddox’s leg resting his back on Maddox’s chest.

Trevor was mindlessly tracing letters and shapes on his boyfriend’s leg, when he thought of something.

“Babe?” Trevor asked making Maddox hum, “Did you have any serious relationships the last few years?”

Trevor has been wondering this for a little while now, he not was worried because it’s in the past but more because they stopped being best friends for a few years so he didn’t get the chance to know much about Maddox’s life.

“Not a relationship nope.” Maddox shook his head pressing a kiss to Trevor’s cheek, “I did hook up with a few people and i had a friends with benefits with a teammate on the lighting.” Maddox knew in the last few years a relationship with anyone that wasn’t Trevor wouldn’t work.

“A friends with benefits?” Trevor turned around looking very curious as he straddled Maddox making Maddox wrap his arms around his waist.

“He came out to me when he was drunk and i told him i was bisexual back, he asked if we could hook up making it easier as we both weren’t out and lived in the same apartment building and was roommates on the road.” Maddox didn’t mind the arraignment because it did truthfully make it easier to hook up.

“What happened?” Trevor titled his head curiously, he was slightly jealous for the fact someone got to have Maddox when he couldn’t but he knows Maddox chose him so there is nothing to worry about.

“I got traded and i ended it.” Maddox nodded, gently rubbing circles on Trevor’s hip bone, “I guess he started wanting more but i didn’t feel anything for him and it wouldn’t be fair because i was and am in love with you.” Maddox softly smiled making Trevor bean and gently kiss Maddox real quick.

“He got angry that i didn’t want more than the arraignment and try’s to get my attention because apparently he’s in love with me.” Maddox rolled his eyes as he talked about it, any part of him that was once fond of someone he once called a friend and teamate was gone after he kept trying to get Maddox’s attention.

“Who is it?” Trevor pressed a kiss to Maddox’s cheek.

“Ross Colton.” Maddox mumbled rubbing his nose against Trevor’s cheek.

Trevor slowly nodded as he remembered all the photos and videos from Tampa of the two.

“You have nothing to be worried about baby. I never had any romantics feelings. And if i for some reason did they would be gone after he smashed my baby brother into the boards for my attention.” Maddox softly reassured Trevor wanting to make sure Trevor knows he’s it for Maddox and no one else.

“Oh he’s the one who hit Lukey in that game.” Trevor slowly nodded realizing exactly what game Maddox was talking about.

“He is.” Maddox nodded before smirking, “Now let’s stop talking about him.” Maddox pressed a kiss to Trevor’s neck and stood up holding Trevor by his thighs making Trevor sequel with laughter and hold onto Maddox tighter.

Maddox kissed Trevor as he walked them through their apartment and into their bedroom.

[hurtmyfavsthanks]

Febuwhump Day 17: Hostage

Content warning: young whumpee/caretaker. They're not meant to be minors, but could easily be read as such

This is a sequel to THIS. This could work as a standalone however.

Whumper had been doing their job long enough to learn that going for the mark directly was a waste of time. It was like trying to catch a fish by hand. A massive, frustrating waste of time, because a fish in the water would always outspeed a clumsy human.

Any catch worth Whumper’s time would be protected. The secret lovers of celebrities, the children of millionaires, the loved ones of people in power—they were always surrounded by fencing and people who fretted over them. It was nearly impossible to catch them truly alone, and odds were even if they were alone, they were surrounded by so many cameras that it wouldn’t be worth the risk.

Whumper never went for the mark directly, cause it wasn’t worth it. Not when they could go for the bait.

Now the bait was easy to get a hold of. It wasn’t that nobody cared about the bait–if nobody cared, it wouldn’t be worth going after–but it was that nobody thought the bait was in danger. Why would they be? The friend of a friend, someone who fell under the radar, unremarkable beyond a few key relationships that gave them value. A useful nobody, one that could vanish for hours before anyone got worried.

It’s hard to force a mark out of the safety built around them. But to give them a reason to leave, to hand them the chance to be a hero?

They’ll slip themselves out of their protection and walk straight into a trap, armed with nothing but their parent’s money and a pocket knife. It was almost cute.

Whumper turned the corner, a lazy grip on the driver wheel, as they finally pulled into their latest base. It was more of a shack, really. A derelict hobble, forgotten, nestled in between unused forest land and a garbage dump. The sort of place that went weeks without being seen by a human. It’d be easy to burn and abandon, once they got the money from Caretaker’s parents.

Whumper glanced down at the hostage in question.

The kid was practically curled into a ball. Legs tucked to their chest, back pressed so hard against the door that it was like they were trying to push it open. They wouldn’t lift their eyes to look at Whumper, but they didn’t turn away either, as if they were torn between being too afraid to look and too afraid to look away.

The only restraints Whumper had put on them was to tie their hands together. It wasn’t to stop them from escaping– Whumper knew they wouldn’t run, not when they knew Whumpee was so close– but more to make sure they didn’t forget their situation. Whumper liked to keep catches scared.

Whumper parked the car. They heard Caretaker’s breath hitch as they came to a stop.

Caretaker didn’t move as Whumper got out. They sat, paralyzed with fear, as Whumper released the look to the passenger seat with the press of a button. When Whumper opened the door, Caretaker flinched back, half crawling into the driver’s seat.

Whumper gestured for them to get out. “Let’s get this over with, yeah? I might even feed you after if you’re good.”

Slowly, Caretaker untangled themselves, leaving the car with shaking legs. They pressed their back into the door, shutting it. They stayed pressed there. Whumper grabbed them by the shoulder and pushed them forward.

They guided Caretaker into the building.

The smell of mold and rot hit them like a truck as they opened the door. The whole place was beginning to rot away. Whumper resisted the urge to gag as the taste of rotting wood filled their mouth.

They’d put together their set up before they’d left. The living room was empty besides a few set items. A tall lamp, the only source of light in the room, was illuminating a single, rusted, metal chair. Finally, a camera, the only thing that looked worth any sort of money, stood ready to catch every moment.

It was a basic set up, rudimentary even, and that’s how Whumper wanted it. Whumper found that people feared the amateur more than the professional

Whumper gestured towards the chair, and Caretaker’s eyes flicked towards it anxiously.

“Come on, don’t get cold feet now,” They pulled a folded piece of paper from their pocket, their own handwriting scribbled onto it. They’d make sure to burn it once the video was done. “All you gotta do is read the paper.”

Caretaker didn’t move. They stood like a deer in the headlights, trembling. Their jaw trembled, and for a long moment, Whumper thought they were finally going to dissolve into sobs.

Instead they spoke.

“Wait. I…I wanna see Whumpee first.” Their voice was frail, trembling, like they’d lose the will to speak at any moment. And yet some of their old bravado seemed to have resurfaced.

Whumper raised an eyebrow. “I’m sure you do. And?”

They hunched their shoulders, shrinking into themselves. And yet they continued. “I mean–You want me to uh, r-record a ransom video. And you said Whumpee would be safe if I listened,”They stood straighter, just barely. “It’s only fair if you…–if you let me see Whumpee, before I start. Please.”

They stood in place, eyes cast downward, fingers tangled together anxiously at their waist. And yet they were still holding their ground.

Whumer stared for a moment, considering. “You really think you’re in a position to be making demands?” They asked, voice low.

They let the question hang in the air. Caretaker froze, eyes widening like a child with their hand caught in the cookie jar. Their lips began to tremble, and when they took a stumbling step away from Whumper, they nearly tripped over the chair.

Caretaker’s mouth cracked open, an apology already on their tongue, when Whumper let their expression lighten. Whumper chuckled, deep and rumbling.

“I don’t know if you’re stupid, or brave as hell. Probably both,” Whumper shrugged, watching as Caretaker’s shoulders slumped in relief. “I respect it. Let’s visit the bait.”

Whumper turned, heading towards the dark, barren hallway that led deeper into the house. Caretaker followed them like a lost duckling.

They stopped at the door at the end of the hall. It wasn’t anything special, just a normal door they’d fitted with a single padlock. Both with no windows and only one exit, the spare room made an effective holding cell.

Whumper pulled the keys from their pocket, opening the door. They stepped aside to give Caretaker a clear view.

Whumpee was right where they’d left them. Their arms and legs were bound with duct tape. The blood on their face had long dried, staining the once white collar of their school uniform a rusty brown. The gag was still firmly in place.

Their eyes bulged when they saw Caretaker. Whumpee screamed, a wordless plea, and lurched their body forward. All they managed to do was tip themselves over, helpless and prone on the floor.

“Whumpee-!” Caretaker took a step to move forward, but a firm hand on their shoulder stopped them. Still, that didn’t stop them from leaning towards their friend as much as Whumper’s hold would allow. “Shit, you’re okay! You’re okay! Just wait and I–I’m going to get us both out–I promise!”

Whumpee only sobbed behind their gag.

Whumper knew better than to let things go on much longer. They squeezed Caretaker’s shoulder, drawing their attention. “You’ll get them out by doing what I say, remember? They stay safe as long as you follow directions.”

Caretaker finally tore their eyes from Whumpee. They met Whumper’s gaze, eyes wide and pleading. There was too much determination in that stare for Whumper’s liking. They knew they’d have to put an end to that.

“Please, just let them go! You–you want me, right? They don’t have anything to do with this!”

“Hey,” they let their tone sharpen, and every inch of Caretaker froze. Whumpee fell silent. “You already got one favor from me. You’re testing your luck.”

Caretaker’s face paled. They stammered, seemingly remembering the situation they were in. “I–I’m sorry. But please–,”

Caretaker gasped as they were yanked back, pulled out of the open doorway. Whumper slammed them against the wall, drawing a scream from their lips. Whumpee let out a muffled shout.

Whumper loomed over Caretaker, shadows darkening their features. Caretaker stared up at them with tearfilled eyes

“Do you know why Whumpee’s still alive?”

“I–”

“Because I decided to keep them alive. Because I’ve been in a good mood. And as long as I stay in a good mood, they get to stay in one piece.”

Caretaker looked ready to faint. Their breath hitched, a panicked sob tearing its way from their throat.

“And you know what puts me in a bad mood?” they leaned forward, drawing a panicked whine from Caretaker. Caretaker pressed themselves flat against the wall. “When brats think they’ve got any bargaining power with me. You understand?”

“Y-yes! Yes sir, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean–I’m sorry–,”

Whumper pulled away. They kicked the door to Whumpee’s room shut, quickly returning the lock. When they turned back to look at Caretaker, they were still pressed against the wall. Eyes wide, staring, shoulders shaking with their silent sobs.

It was a good start. Whumper knew from experience that they’d drop the hero act within a week.

Whumper grinned. “Good. Then you have something to read, don’t you?”

[sequinsmile-x]

Hi, would you like to write a new chapter of Retour Des Morts please? I think it'll be interesting to see how they come back after all that. Have you ever considered writing where Emily doesn't come back to the BAU? Sometimes, I think if she already has a home, she won't be doing what she did in canon. She might be more into building a new place and also reassuring Jack and Hotch (or whoever will come next :>)

hiiii bestie

Ever since you sent this in I have thought about this constantly. Retour Des Morts is one of my favourite things I've written, and the fact you asked for this close to two years after I wrote it means a lot.

I hope you like this and that it lives up to what you wanted <3

-x-

Retour à La Vie

Aaron and Emily work to put their life back together after she returns from the dead.

A sequel to Retour Des Morts

-x-

Words: 4.1k

Warnings: pregnancy, lots of big feelings

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

They get married within a week of her coming back from the dead. 

It’s not what she’d ever imagined her wedding would be like. There’s no white dress, no crowd of wellwishers watching with tissues clasped in their hands as she and Aaron exchanged vows. It’s just the two of them and Jack in the judge's chambers at the courthouse, a small bouquet Aaron had bought her that morning the only traditional sign that they were getting married. It’s no less special to her, no less meaningful, the happiness she feels when the judge declares them husband and wife overwhelming. 

The first kiss they shared as a married couple tasted of their tears with a chaser of desperation, the fact that just two weeks ago he’d thought she was dead not lost on either one of them. Whilst it’s not what she’d pictured she’s glad it’s what she ended up with, an intimate moment with the man she loves and the little boy she loves as her own. 

She knows Aaron was still struggling to believe it was real, that her suddenly being back with him wasn’t a cruel dream his subconscious was tormenting him with. She could feel it in how tightly he’d hold her, how he’d look for her in a room the moment he stepped into it. How he’d bury his face in her collarbone as they had sex, as if he wanted to crawl under her skin and stay there, desperately seeking solace in the place in her chest that she’d carved out for him years ago. 

She can’t blame him, because she feels the exact same way. It’s what she’d spent 7 months wishing for, what she’d pictured when she scrunched her eyes shut in a cold, uncomfortable bed in Paris, desperate to fall asleep. The memory of his embrace, of how having his arms around her would shut her brain off, stop all the noise that came with being her, just out of reach. 

When the team found out they’d married in secret the reactions were mixed. Fury, sadness and confusion at being left out painted across their friends' faces when they all went to Dave’s house for dinner. Their accusations of keeping a secret fell flat when Aaron reminded them, his glare fixed on JJ and Derek, that he’d been kept out of the loop on a lot of things. He was angry, and she was too, and she didn’t know if their relationships with the team, with the people she knew had made decisions to protect them both, would ever truly recover. 

She smiles as she hears the front door open, the tension in her chest that she felt every time she was separated from him, from her husband, dissipating immediately. She knew they couldn’t live like this forever, that it wasn’t healthy for them to be so codependent, but she was giving them both the grace they needed, and deserved, for now. She sits up and places her book down, not sure she’d absorbed anything she’d been reading, and her smile only gets wider as he steps into the room. 

“Hi honey,” she says softly, “How was work?” 

He blows out a steady breath and leans down to kiss her, stamping his lips against hers before he walks around it to join her. He places his briefcase on the coffee table and sits next to her, his hand heavy and warm as he places it on her thigh. 

“Long,” he replies gruffly, smiling when she raises her eyebrow at him, “I missed you.” 

She places her hand on his, rubbing her thumb back and forth over his wedding ring, “I missed you too.” 

She’d made the decision not to back to work yet. The thought of it paralysed her, fear she didn’t quite understand overwhelming her every time she thought about it. She was unsure if she even wanted to go back, if she wanted to put herself back in the line of fire in a dangerous job when she’d already lost so much. She also knew Aaron and Jack had been through so much too, they’d buried her. They’d mourned her, and she wasn’t sure if she would ever be able to forgive herself if they had to do that again. 

She wasn’t sure they’d be able to forgive her either, and the thought of that hurt more than anything. 

Her gaze drifts from their joint hands to his briefcase, and she frowns slightly when she sees a newspaper sticking out of it, a circled home in the open real estate section visible through the open zip. She smiles at her husband curiously, her head tilted as her eyes meet his. 

“Are you planning on moving sometime soon?” She asks, reaching for the newspaper and pulling it out, her eyebrows raised as she realises it’s one of many circled homes on the first page alone, ���Or are you starting a new career in real estate and you don’t know how to tell me?” Her smile fades when she looks at him again, the tension in his jaw, the way he avoids her gaze, enough to make concern flood her belly, “Aaron?”

He sighs and shakes his head at himself, his lips pressed together as he tries to find a way to tell her. He’d wanted to wait a little while, to figure out how to broach the subject. She loved this house. They’d spent weeks going to viewings and looking for somewhere perfect, but he was starting to feel suffocated here. 

Any joy he had once found in these walls had been buried with her, but they hadn’t come back from the dead, hadn’t crawled out of the hole he’d forced it into. 

“I…I’ve been thinking it would be good for us to find somewhere new,” he says, and she stares at him, her mouth falling open slightly as his unexpected confession washes over her. 

“Oh,” she says, her eyes drifting back down to the newspaper, the pages crinkling slightly in her tight grip. 

“Yeah,” he replies, clearing his throat, hating the tension that had quickly filled the room, “I think we need a fresh start. Jack too.” 

She furrows her brows as she looks up at him, her teeth sinking into her lower lip as she blows out a steady breath, “But…we love this house.” 

He doesn’t understand the anger that licks through him, burning in his veins in a way it so rarely did, a phantom that had haunted him since his childhood, something he could never quite outrun.

“We held your wake in this room, Emily,” he says, harsher than he means to, the way her eyes widen, how she recoils away from him ever so slightly, the thing that calms him down. He sighs as guilt chases away his anger. “You sit in this room and you think of the night we moved in. When we sat on the floor with Jack and ate pizza because the couch hadn’t been delivered yet,” he says, unable to stop smiling at the memory, but it fades quickly, “I think of sitting right here with Jack after everyone left after your wake,” he clenches his teeth and looks down at his lap, tears burning in the back of his eyes, “I think of the fact I slept on this couch for weeks because even the spare rooms upstairs held too many memories.” 

She blows out a slow breath and looks up at the ceiling, shaking her head as she wipes away a stray tear from her cheek, “Aaron, I am so-”

“I don’t need you to keep apologising sweetheart,” he says, reaching for her hand and holding it desperately, her bones popping against each other, “I want to move past this with you. Move on with our lives and just…”

He drifts off, unsure how to put it into words and she squeezes his hand back. She places the newspaper down and shifts closer to him, their knees pressed together as she cups his cheek with her free hand, forcing him to look at her. 

“Just start living again,” she finishes for him, and he chuckles, the sound wet as it catches on his ribs, and he nods. 

“Yeah,” he agrees, clearing his throat as his voice cracks, “I want that more than anything.” 

She looks around the living room, at the memories on the walls in the form of photographs. At the tv stand they’d built together, the fireplace they decorated every season. She once thought she’d live here forever, that this was the place she’d build a family with him, but when she was gone, dead to him and almost everyone she knew, it wasn’t the house she’d missed.

It was him. It was Jack. They were her home.

“Okay,” she says quietly, resting her forehead against his, “We’ll find somewhere new,” she says, stroking her thumb back and forth over his cheek, lamenting the loss of his beard since he’d gone back to work. 

She smiles when his eyes get brighter and his smile gets wider, as if a weight she hadn’t known he was carrying had been lifted from his shoulders, “Really?”

She’d miss this house, but it was something she was willing to lose if it made him happier. She nods and kisses him, tasting the smile he presses against her lips.  

“Really.” 

___

Six Months Later 

Emily sighs as the car comes to a stop, nerves making her belly roll as she stares at Dave’s house. She lifts her hand to her mouth without thinking, ready to chew her cuticles, but Aaron catches her hand halfway, linking their fingers together and squeezing. She turns to look at him and smiles tightly, relaxing slightly as he lifts their joint hands to his lips to kiss her knuckles. 

“You okay, sweetheart?” He asks, squeezing her hand again as they drop to the centre console, “We don’t have to tell them tonight if you don’t want to.”

She smiles softly at him, love for him warming her from the inside out as he looks at her like she’s made of something precious and she shakes her head, “No, we should tell them,” she says, placing the hand not wrapped up in his on her slightly rounded belly, “I don’t think I’d be able to hide it much longer anyway, I’m starting to resemble a blimp.” 

She was convinced it would take a long time to get pregnant, the warnings of her doctors in France echoing around in her head as she and Aaron discussed expanding their family. They’d decided to start trying right away even though things had still been rocky at the time, their lives and their relationship on unsteady ground, their love for each other the only thing that kept them on track for the easier path ahead. It had surprised her when she stood in the bathroom of their old house with a positive pregnancy test just two months after she came home. Despite the timing not being ideal, she was happy, and she knew he was too. She was almost halfway through her pregnancy now, and she knew it was time to share the news with the people she once called her family

No one else other than Jack, Jessica and Emily’s doctor knew about the baby, about the little girl growing steadily under Emily’s skin. It wasn’t because she didn’t want their friends to know, but because of a lack of opportunity. Aaron saw them every day at work but she still hadn’t gone back. And now she never would. She’d met with Strauss only the day before and officially changed her career break into retirement from the FBI. She wasn’t sure what she wanted to do going forward, what she’d do once she was more settled back into her life and her baby was born, but she knew it was the right decision. 

She wanted to be what she’d never had - a present parent, and she no longer felt like that was something she could do in a career that had almost killed her. 

“You’re beautiful,” he says, placing his hand over hers on her bump, “Both of you.” 

She hums and leans in to kiss him, stamping her lips against his before she pulls back, “Come on,” she says, “We’d better get in there before Dave sends out a search party.” 

As she steps out of the car she adjusts her sweater, making sure the baggy material isn’t clinging to her bump, and then she reaches for Aaron’s hand, squeezing it tightly as they approach the house. 

The evening is easier than she thought it would be, the slight tension she still felt at times around them, JJ in particular, more bearable than it used to be. If any of them notice she isn’t drinking wine they don’t mention it, all of them content to act as if nothing had changed, as if seven months ago she hadn’t been dead to almost everyone sitting around the dining table. 

“So, peaches, are you ever coming back to work?” Penelope asks, her lips pushed out in a pout as she looks at her friend, “I miss seeing your beautiful face in the office. "

Emily chuckles politely and she looks at Aaron and he nods, his hand on her knee under the table a much needed comfort. She takes a moment to breathe slowly before she looks at her friends.

“Yesterday I gave Strauss my official notice that I’m going to be retiring from the FBI,” she says, pressing her lips together when she sees the shock spread across their faces, a tidal wave of emotions sweeping through them all, “The paperwork has all been filled out, so I won’t be coming back.” 

The room falls into silence and it hangs over them all, cloying and suffocating like a thick blanket as her words sink in. 

“Why?” Spencer asks, the first to get his ability to speak back, “I thought you loved your job.” 

“I did,” she says, smiling sadly as she shakes her head, “I do. I just…” she looks at Aaron and any tension that had gathered in her chest disappears the moment their eyes meet, his love a balm for any ailment she felt, and she looks at her friends again, “I love my family more. This is the right thing for us. Jack is doing so much better now, and his therapist says it is partly because he has a more consistent life now,” she shrugs and chuckles humourlessly, “How can I take that away from him just because I like my job?” 

Dave sighs and sits backwards, his hands on the back of his head as he looks back and forth between her and Aaron, “That makes sense.”

Derek nods, clearly not agreeing but aware of his place in Emily’s life now, how he had lost her trust, “We’ll miss you, Princess. We already do.” 

She smiles and nods, “I’ll make more of an effort to come in and see you all,” she says, aware that she was partly to blame for how things were between them, that her resistance to going to the office whilst she was on her career break had been a factor. She places her hand over Aaron’s on her knee and links their fingers together, “Plus,” she says, clearing her throat in an attempt to hide her smile as she nods her head towards him, “I’ve already promised this one I’ll bring the baby in to see him all the time anyway.”

There’s another moment of silence, shock and joy rolled into one as it fills the air and her lungs, making her feel like she can breathe clearly for the first time since she’d got out of the car. The room descends into chaos, and Penelope is out of her chair before any of the others can even react, wrapping her arms tightly around Emily who is still sitting down. 

“You’re having a baby?” She squeals, making Emily chuckle with her enthusiasm, and she nods, placing her hand on Penelope’s arm that was tight around her neck. 

“Yes,” she laughs, “But only if you don’t choke me before she’s born.”

“She?” Penelope squeals again, forcing Derek to make a joke about his hearing as she switches to hug Aaron instead, and they all laugh in between congratulating them, and for a moment everything feels exactly as it should. 

Emily eventually steps out for some air and to grab another soda from the kitchen, shaking off Aaron’s attempts to go get it for her with nothing more than a soft smile. She rolls her neck and places her hand on her bump as she walks to the fridge, grateful for a moment of silence away from the dozens of questions. 

“Congratulations.” 

She turns and looks at JJ, her smile tight as she nods gratefully, “Thank you.”

JJ clears her throat as she steps closer, her arms tight over her chest as she looks at the floor, the awkwardness between them still as fresh as it was the day Emily came home, “So you’re 19 weeks along?” 

Emily nods, her hand on her belly as she sees JJ looking at it, “Yeah, I turn 20 weeks next Wednesday.”

JJ nods, her teeth sinking into her lower lip, “And you said you’re having a girl.” 

She smiles, “Yeah, a girl,” she says, her smile getting wider when she feels the baby move as if she knew she was being spoken about, “Jack is excited, he said he wanted a little sister from the moment we told him.” 

JJ’s smile changes as she steps closer, sadness creeping in, somehow making her eyes seem darker, “There was a time when you would have told me the moment you found out.” 

Emily immediately feels anger rush through her, rolling in her belly alongside her daughter, and she clenches her teeth, but it’s not enough to capture the words that escape her, “Well, there was a time when I didn’t think you’d lie to me for 7 months,” she shrugs, “I guess things have changed.” 

JJ closes her eyes and shakes her head, “I don’t know how many times I have to say I did what I had to do,” she says as she looks at her, “One day you’re going to have to forgive me.”

She scoffs and shakes her head, “No I won’t,” she says firmly, her arms crossed over her chest, “I don’t have to forgive you for this. I don’t think I can.” 

“Em-”

“If it was just me…” Emily shouts, cutting over JJ before she clears her throat to calm herself down, her daughter’s kicks getting sharper as her blood pressure increases, “If it was just me,” she says again, her voice softer this time, “I would have been able to get past it. But you lied to Aaron, you let him and Jack think I was dead after they’d already lost Haley and I can’t get past that.” 

JJ clenches her jaw to stop herself from crying and looks up, “I did what I thought was right.” 

“We had to move. Because every corner of that house changed for them. Jack still has nightmares. He sleeps in our bed more often than he doesn’t and Aaron…” She shakes her head and looks away, turning her head so she can wipe away a stray tear before she looks back at her friend, “Sometimes when he first wakes up he still thinks it’s not real. He never says it, but I can see it in his eyes. The flash of panic, the relief when he realises I’m right there. I don’t know if I can forgive you for doing that to him.” 

They fall into silence and JJ sighs, running her fingers through her hair as she shakes her head, “I am sorry, Em. It was an impossible situation.”

“I know that,” she says, “And I know part of it is my fault, it’s because of my decisions before I’d even met Aaron. But your decisions put them through something we will live with our entire lives. I can’t forgive that but…I think one day I’ll be able to live with it.” 

The spark of joy that flashes across JJ’s face makes her ache, “Really?” 

She nods and chokes on a laugh, “Yeah,” she says, wiping away another tear from her cheek, “Really. My little girl is going to need her Aunt JJ to balance out the crazy from Aunt Pen.” 

JJ laughs, the sound catching on a sob as she pulls Emily into a hug, and it feels like a step in the right direction.

___

Six Months Later

Emily shushes her daughter as she paces the living room, holding the two-month-old against her chest as she pats her back, burping her after her 3 am feed.

“I know sweet girl,” she mumbles against the baby’s temple as she fusses, wholly against the idea of settling back down to sleep, “Life is so hard when you’re 8 weeks old and Mommy can’t constantly feed you.” 

Renee was born on her due date, arriving right on time into the world in a way Emily had joked ever since was something she’d inherited from Aaron. He’d always reply that he was glad she’d got something from him, since the baby girl was Emily’s double in every other way. She couldn’t deny it, as the weeks passed the resemblance became even clearer, and features she’d hated her whole life on her own face, such as her nose, were suddenly beautiful to her when she saw them on her daughter. 

“Give her a break, she just happens to love your breasts.” 

She smiles wryly as she turns to look at her husband, her eyebrow raised as his eyes meet hers from where he is standing in the doorway, “Well, at least that’s another thing she got from you.” 

He chuckles and walks over, stamping a quick kiss against her lips, “True enough,” he says, kissing her again before he pulls back, “Have you been awake for long?” 

She shakes her head and looks down to see Renee is now fast asleep against her, “Maybe 30 minutes or so,” she replies, walking over and slowly lowering herself to the couch, “I’m sorry if we woke you up.” 

“You didn’t,” he says as he joins her, his arm automatically around her shoulders as she settles against his side, “I woke up and you were gone so…”

It was the year anniversary of her return from the dead, of the start of the journey they’d been walking together ever since. Sometimes it felt like no time at all, like she’d blinked and she was here with him and their children in a new house. Other times she could feel every second, every moment of doubt and pain and sadness that they’d had as they navigated to where they were now. To the life she liked to think they both deserved. Quiet and so achingly normal she sometimes wanted to cry at the beautiful simplicity of it all. 

She hears what he hasn’t said, what his brain will still trick him into even a year later, and she sighs sadly, pressing her lips against his cheek, “We’re right here.” 

“I know,” he says, capturing her lips in a kiss, “My girls.” 

She smiles and nods, the moniker never failing to warm her from the inside out even though he’d said it countless times ever since they’d found out they were having a daughter. 

“Your girls,” she confirms, kissing him again before she turns her attention back to the sleeping baby on her chest, “Sometimes I still can’t quite believe I have all of this.” 

He wasn’t the only one who was prone to thinking that this was all too good to be true, that one day she’d wake up and she’d still be in Paris, the last year of her life nothing more than a fantasy she had come up with to sleep through the night. 

“You do sweetheart,” he says, kissing the side of her head as his hand shifts to the back of Renee’s head, his fingers following the swirling pattern of her dark hair.

“We’re all right here,” he says, repeating her words, “Rey is right here with us, Jack is upstairs in his room,” he says, kissing the right of her head, “We’re all here.” 

She nods, turning her head so her forehead is pressed against his cheek, the feeling of his breath skipping across her skin relaxing her, a gentle reminder of what she had now, what she’d once died to protect. 

“Yeah,” she says, “We really are.” 

-x-

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[fandomsnstuff]

Day 6: Free day

This is a bit of a sequel to day 3: myth

@blupjeansweek

Read it on AO3

Summary: Barry hasn't heard from Lup in a week when he gets brought on for a new project at work

Barry's at work. He should be working. The Institute of Marine Research and Conservation would probably like him to be marine researching and conserving. And he is, sort of. But he's also checking his phone every ten seconds. She has to reach out to him eventually, right? She seemed receptive, when he inelegantly stumbled over his words as he confessed his feelings to her. He didn't mean to include the part about being hopelessly in love with her, he just wanted her to know he liked her. Romantically. And she reciprocated! She said she loves him too and they kissed! But it's been almost a week since that night, and Lup hasn't said a word to him.

Maybe she changed her mind. Maybe she just said she loved him to spare his feelings and now she'll never talk to him again. 30 years of friendship and Barry threw it all away in a single night. Idiot.

He stares at the small wall of outgoing texts that he's generated in the past week. They haven't been read. He's trying to resist the urge to send an apology when someone behind him says, "Bluejeans."

He turns and sees Lucas. The snotty 20-something kid that got the job of head researcher because he's some sort of marine science prodigy. "I have a project for you," he says.

"Okay."

"Come with me," he turns and starts walking away without even looking to see if Barry follows. He leads him through the snaking corridors of the Institute, passing by all the different labs and enclosures. He takes him through isolated, empty hallways deep in the building, down several flights of stairs, and to a large metal door set into a concrete wall. Lucas stops in front of it and turns to him. "Now, this project is top secret. You can't tell anyone about this. It could change the world, but I need to do this my way."

"Then why am I here?"

"I need a second set of hands and eyes, and you're one of the only people here who worked with my mother. If she could trust you, I figure I can cut you in on this discovery." He pulls an access card out of his pocket. "Are you in?"

He hesitates. Sure, he worked with Maureen, she was a phenomenal scientist. Lucas, on the other hand, is… arrogant, at times. He can be difficult to get along with and he sees this job as a competition to get the best discovery. But whatever this secret project is, it's probably better if someone's there to keep his head on straight. "Alright, yeah, I'm in."

Lucas turns and scans the access card, unlocking the door. As he opens it, Barry asks, "what even is this place?"

"It's an old storage room that I outfitted for my more personal research."

The inside is brightly lit, there's tanks and equipment lining the walls. "Behold," Lucas says, spreading his arms, "my ultimate discovery."

In the middle of the room is a large circular tank, with a set of stairs curling around it up to a platform around the top edge. Barry approaches the tank to see what's got Lucas acting all grandiose, and freezes. Laying at the bottom of the tank, with deep red scales and fins, head resting on her arms, is Lup.

Her eyes open, and she lifts her head to look at him. She pushes off the bottom and floats gently over to him, placing her hand against the glass. He puts his hand up against hers, and they just stare at each other for a few moments. Her eyes drift over to Lucas, and she does a lap around the tank before settling back at the bottom.

"It's never done that before," Lucas says, stepping up next to him.

Barry keeps his hand on the glass, watching her lay so concerningly still. "She's lethargic."

"Yeah, she was pretty violent and agitated when I first caught it, so I had to calm it down." He nods towards a canister attached to the filter.

Barry's fist clenches. "You're keeping her in drugged water?"

Lucas scoffs. "I just showed you an actual, living mermaid and that's what you're concerned about?"

"I'm concerned about a lot of things, actually!" Barry turns away from Lup to face him, "this- this is completely unethical! Was she even injured or anything?"

"No, but I pulled up my net and it was a fucking mermaid! I wasn't about to just throw it back, this is revolutionary!"

"Of course she was violent, you abducted her!"

"Oh, so I guess you're a vegetarian since catching fish is abduction now."

"That's entirely different, she's a person!"

"She's a fish! It's a brand new species we've never seen before! If you can't get behind scientific advancement, maybe you weren't the right person for this job. If you're so against it, you can just leave."

Barry wants to keep yelling at him. He wants to clock Lucas in the jaw. But that won't help Lup. What will help her is keeping Lucas's trust and access to this room long enough to enact a rescue. "One condition."

Lucas crosses his arms. "What?"

"Now that she's here, we keep the study as harmless as possible. Starting with taking the drugs out of the water."

He glances at the canister. "Fine."

"Alright, then. Let's get to work."

Over the next few days, Lup becomes more alert. She's agitated, as any sea creature would be in a tank far too small, only able to swim in circles. But she's calmer with Barry there. Lucas sticks to their deal for the most part. Barry only has to talk him out of exploratory surgery once, and he's able to minimise the number of needles he wants to prod her with.

Luckily, Lucas is also an idiot who didn't put cameras in his secret lab, so when they're alone, they can talk. Barry comes in late one night, and Lup's lying on the bottom. He taps on the glass to get her attention and points up. She gets the message and swims to the surface, Barry meets her up there on the platform.

"Barry," she breathes.

He kneels and leans towards her, "Lup I'm so sorry-"

She wraps her arms around his neck and tugs him even lower as she holds onto him. "No, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to disappear on you, I was just so kinda freaked that night that I went for a swim, and I ended up really far out and got caught in his stupid net, and I don't know what it was made out of, but I couldn't break through it."

"It's not your fault." He unwinds her arms from his neck and takes her hands so he can look at her. "I'm sorry I have to participate in his terrible study of you. But I have a plan, I just need a few more days. I'm getting you out of here."

She smiles and squeezes his hands. "I knew you would."

"Also, I brought you something." He reaches into his bag and pulls out a paper fast food bag.

"Oh my god." She hoists herself up to sit on the platform and snatches it from him. She pulls the burger out, tears open the paper, and practically eats half of it in one bite. She groans. "You're my hero." She swallows and takes a smaller, more reasonable bite. "He only feeds me those disgusting little fish that you feed every other big creature here and, like, yeah, I ate stuff like that for the first chunk of my life, but now? I'm domesticated. I'm a house mermaid. If I'm gonna eat raw fish, it better be sushi." She finishes the burger and inhales the fries. "Did you get a drink?"

He takes out his travel mug, "something from home."

She takes the lid off and inhales deeply. "Coffee," she sighs. She looks at him, "I'm so fucking in love with you."

A few more days pass, and Barry's got a car, an alibi, and Magnus in the security booth to replace any footage of him with empty hallways. He discovered the access cards into the secret lab aren't connected to a network like the ones for the main Institute. They're basically glorified hotel room keys. There'll be no record of Barry being at the lab tonight.

When he arrives, Lup's waiting for him. She's dry as a bone, as human and as naked as ever. He blushes and looks at the ground as he hands her the bag of clothes he brought. He can hear the rustling as she changes and she says, "you know you can look at me, Bear. We are in love and all that."

His blush deepens. "Maybe another day."

She puts a hand on his shoulder and kisses his cheek. He looks up, and she's smiling at him, dressed in a pair of leggings and one of his shirts, as requested. She takes his hand and whispers, "let's go."

Up the stairs, through the halls, out a back door and through some trees, they get to Barry's car, parked in a shadowy spot at the side of the road. They take off and don't look back.

Come Monday, Lucas is pissed. He interrogates Barry, but he tells him he was at his mom's house all weekend. He has no idea what happened to the mermaid. He interrogates Magnus, the night guard for the weekend, and he says that there was nothing on the cameras. No one came in or out.

Lucas tries to question other people without letting on about his "personal" research, but discretion was never quite his strong suit. An anonymous tip sends the ethics board knocking on his secret door, and he gets fired and blacklisted from the marine science community. Barry's offered Lucas's job and happily takes it.

He also makes sure that the secret lab gets torn down and turned back into storage. He even brings Lup in to take a sledgehammer to the central tank.

As the glass cracks and water washes over them, Lup shimmers and falls to the ground in her tail and fins. She laughs, "guess we didn't think that one through."

Barry chuckles and takes off his glasses to wipe the droplets from the lenses. "I'll go grab some towels."

[alltimefail-sims]

I woke up to a few anon messages that came in batches at different times, so I'm not sure if these are all from the same person or a few different people, but I'm just going to answer them all here!

Questions and replies below the cut ↓

That is absolutely what I would do. I wouldn't even upload sims who use cc to the gallery, especially if the sims team/EA refuses to tell you what about your sims is being flagged as inappropriate by their standards. After a few suspensions and warnings they will go ahead with a permanent ban and from what I've found in my research, they don't seem to have a lot of flexibility to undo a ban once it has been issued, so you're right to play it safe rather than be sorry.

Thank you for saying that, I genuinely appreciate it! I'm so glad you stopped by for help, and that I could be helpful to you in any way. ❤️

I agree on all fronts! I'm almost positive there will be bugs with this new EP upon release, I just hope they're mild and managable until the Sims team can get out a hotfix. Just hoping the bugs aren't as bad as My Wedding Stories, for instance - that pack was completely unplayable upon release.

I think what we have seen of the build buy items looks really unique and beautiful. I'm always excited to see new traits, although some of them seem so pack-specific that I'm worried how they'll impact gameplay outside of the renter situations. I reblogged a couple isolated screenshots on my page that break down some new potential features - like a rice cooker, standing toilet, marbles and hopscotch for children (new child activities!!! Yay!!), and so on! The world itself seems immersive and different than what we already have and I think the non-American representation has been severely lacking, so it'll *hopefully* be a breath of fresh air.

Somewhat related to this point: the inclusion of a non-American world also gives me hope for the future. I'm still holding out hope for a Spanish inspired world or an African inspired world, but perhaps they'll incorporate one or both in the future. I hate that Selvadorada is a vacation world only!

The negative part of me kind of hates that this feels like "City Living: The Sequel." I'm curious how this will impact the already existent apartment lot types in the game. Hopefully it's different enough to stand on its own, but I just think we should have been able to create apartments all this time. That's the main selling point of this pack for me, and it would seem like that's the shared sentiment in the community as well, so that's unfortunate that we all have to buy/acquire a different pack to implement a feature that could and should have been implemented in another pack. I'm going to withhold judgment until I play though and try to go in with an open mind!

I love refreshing the townies, too! It's actually one of the first things I do when I start a new gameplay save because, like you said, a lot of them don't even have hot/cold weather outfits which is... well, it's expected of the lazy ass sims team lol. I'm not surprised. 🤦 But I can't stand seeing townies walk around in the wackiest outfits, especially the townies I really like!

I've always thought the community, by and large, does a better job handling townie refreshes anyway. I think every time the Sims team touches a beloved townie or alters their lore in any way, they fuck it up lmao. I would rather they just leave it to the people who actually care about these sims...😬

Thank you so much for the compliment, that means so much to me! I know it's cliché, but the more you practice making sims, the better you will get and the more you'll start to see your own "style" take shape. One tip I would give is to use real people as a reference: this helps avoid that "same face" syndrome you can get yourself into. They don't have to be perfect and exact to your reference, but you'll find over time that looking at all these different real people will not only diversify your sims, but also your ideas of beauty. You'll start to notice little things about a face that make it different - a bump of the nose, a slant of the eyes, pulled-in corners of the mouth, a cupid's bow arch of the lips versus a perfectly rounded edge. If you go to Pinterest and just look up "Face claims" you will find a never-ending amount of pictures with people of all different facial features, ages, ethnicities, hair textures, etc. Create a board on there - public or private (that's totally up to you) - and save all the faces you think are beautiful, unique, intriguing, etc. It helps me so much, and my sim style has really developed over time just by doing that!

I have to admit... I'm not a particularly fashionable person: I've been dressing pretty much the same way since middle school not gonna lie (think thrift store grandpa in band/graphic t-shirts and leggings exclusively lmao). So I try to think of the kind of personality my sim has first, which helps me pick an aesthetic style I want to go for when it's time to dress them. I'll think of questions like are they more alternative, or are they preppy? Do they dress for comfort or for style? Would they spend a lot of money on their clothes, or do they prioritize simple, affordable, staple pieces? Are they environmentally-conscious, avoiding animal furs/clothes that could be over the top but also made cruelly? Do they have a culture, religion, or belief-system that encourages modesty and head-coverings of some kind? So on and so forth. Then I might look up pictures or just play around until I find a few outfits that feel right. If you need inspo, go to TS4 lookbook tag as well- there's lots of variety and seeing how people pair some cc pieces might help your creative juices flow!

The Goth family will always have a special place in my heart, first and foremost. Naturally I have to include Erwin Pries (Strangerville GP), my number one silly goose, because he feels like he's mine. I know EA made him and we all have him in our games, but he feels so personal to me. I also love Penny Pizzaz (City Living EP) and the entire Jang family (City Living EP), Sienna Grove and Don Gooseman (Horse Ranch EP), Max Villareal and Lucas Munch (Get Together EP), Bob Pancakes (BG), the Vatore siblings (Vampires GP), Morgyn Ember and L. Faba (ROM GP - sorry Simeon).

Honorable mention to every Wildfangs werewolf and Celene López: I love all of them equally and could not pick a favorite. Another honorable mention to the Behr sisters as well: I don't play with them often, but I love their aesthetic.

Little blurb but this was such a tough question because I had to decipher between the townies I love because I have an attachment to them, versus townies I love because they're done so well by someone else (Gunther Munch by Ai, Hugo and Malcom by tricoufamily, and so on). I feel good about the above list though - I think these are my favorite sims that I play with based on my own attachment and personal headcanons.

Thank you so much!!! 😊🥰

It genuinely makes my heart happy to think that anyone will find joy in a build that I had joy in making. It's like sharing brain children, collaborating in a way - my build housing someone else's sims, two elements creating one story. Idk if that makes sense, but that's my favorite part of the community... just like, creating together.

I wasn't a good builder either, I found the mechanics really confusing at first, but it's actually become kind of a catharsis for my anxiety and adhd. It keeps me focused and grounded and gives me a task to direct my, at times, directionless energy. I also recommend using floor plan pictures from Pinterest to help practice building as well! I have a whole board of floor plans and exteriors!

Anyway, if this is all my same friend who came to me for help, I'm sorry I wrote you a book lmao! If this is more than one person, I'm also sorry all my answers were long. I am so appreciative when anyone comes to talk in my inbox, I'm so happy that running this account has helped me meet so many wonderful people!

Anyway, I'm probably too sentimental this time of year (lol). I'll wrap it up now.

Byeeeee! ❤️

[agentnico]

John Wick: Chapter 4 (2023) Review

There really is something truly amusingly spectacular in witnessing Keanu shooting baddies whilst doing car donuts next to the Arc de Triomphe. It’s almost like an action parody, yet still super badass. 

Plot: With the price on his head ever increasing, legendary hit man John Wick takes his fight against the High Table global as he seeks out the most powerful players in the underworld, from New York to Paris to Japan to Berlin.

Who would’ve thought back in 2014 that this little action flick about an ex-hitman coming out of retirement after some silly buggers shoot and kill his dog starring lovely Hollywood star Keanu Reeves would span such a major scale combat franchise that’s now on its fourth instalment, with multiple spin-offs on the way too. All this over a puppy?? Well, pet-lovers, John Wick and studio execs would aim to disagree, so here we are with Chapter 4. 

Look, straight away I can say if you enjoyed the previous instalments you’ll enjoy this one too. It’s more of the same, only bigger and grander. Indeed the action sequences are all nothing short of superb, with Wick despatching enemies in a lethally balletic style, very much showing inspiration of Bruce Lee in the fight choreography. It’s all really impressive and is very much a commendation for director Chad Stahelski and his team for constantly finding more and more creative ways of filming straight up mass murder. That seems like a very peculiar observation to make yet here I am. It’s true though, from the long takes to the real-life stunts, this movie looks and feels at times like a video game. There’s even a uniquely stunning scene involving a battle-weary Wick charging from room to room through an abandoned decaying building with the camera tracking his progress  in a long, unbroken shot from overhead/bird’s-eye-view as he guns down attacker after attacker using an incendiary rounds shotgun. It’s mad and great! However for all the amazing ground-breaking fighting shots this movie does suffer heavily from being too bloated and excessive. With the meandering runtime of nearly 3 hours, there’s a lot action that does get repetitive. There’s only so many creative ways you can headshot kill someone, you know? 

The story too suffers from, well, not being there. Look, the original John Wick had the simple yet brilliant premise of the guy getting revenge for his killed puppy. It was bizarre yet perfectly apt for the character of Wick. However since then the sequels have all been revealing this crazy assassins world involving the High Table that everyone follows, as well as the various rules and codes that these assassins follow. And also that minor factor that whenever there’s a massive fight out in the open, regular people walking by act completely unaffected by all this and continue going by their regular day-to-day. So anyway, it was a very interesting world that was delivered in all its wonderful neo noir style, however by the fourth time around it’s kind of become the same thing again, has it on? Wasn’t John going after the High Table in the last one? And also he had a high price for his head in the last film, and same here, so again, the movie fails to have that feeling of freshness outside of some of its action sequences.

In terms of the cast, both old and new are great. Keanu Reeves lives and breaths John Wick, and also the fact that he throws himself into all these stunts is worth all the praise and more. However slight knit-pick - his character doesn’t have that much dialogue in this one, and I am totally okay with that as I imagine John Wick is not a man of many words. That being said when he does speak, most often all he says is “Yeah” in a very brooding voice. Look, say it once, you’re cool. Say it twice, we get it, you’re a badass Mr Wick. Say it thrice, alright, we get the point. Fourth time? Okay, now it’s just stupid. John Wick says “Yeah” so much I was half expecting Alex Winter to show up and them together scream “EXCELLENT!”. As for the rest of the cast, both Ian McShane and Laurence Fishburne return and bring the respectful gravitas to their element as one can expect. Lance Reddick is always nice to see, and it’s a shame to hear of his recent passing, yet his role in this movie is ironically apt to work as a tribute towards him and his legacy. As for new cast members, the likes of Hiroyuki Sanada, Clancy Brown, Scott Adkins, Shamier Anderson and Rina Sawayama all are given great characters to work with that fit in smoothly into this universe. But special shout out to Pennywise himself Bill Skarsgard! What a great villain! He was an absolute a**hole from beginning to end and I loved it! He even had a French accent and all which tied it all nicely into a neat bow. He was such a bastard and made for a memorable baddie.

Donnie Yen was awesome. End of paragraph.

The musical score and soundtrack was surprisingly impactful and accompanied the action and on-screen events superbly. Like more so than the previous films the music here really amplified the entire experience, so thought I’d mention it.

Overall John Wick: Chapter 4 features a lot of great fighting sequences, a host of old and new great characters and is probably the best of the John Wick sequels (first movie is still the best). However it is also a movie that is starting to show this series’ wrinkles, as such signifying that maybe its time to end John Wick and his killings. You’ve had four solid films, leave it whilst it is still on a high. Donnie Yen was awesome though, did I already mention that?

Overall score: 7/10

[floral-hex]

I just finished the game Control earlier. Sitting with some coffee now and thinking about it. I absolutely loved it. I feel like I say I love every piece of media I make a text post about, but then again, if I don’t enjoy something I won’t finish it and I definitely won’t waste time writing about it, so 🤷🏻‍♂️

Anyway, bullet points:

AMAZING A E S T H E T I C

Seriously, I loved the old retro office building atmosphere

cosmic horror haunted house

Magic gun is cool 😎

“Don’t eat mold.”

Big big X-Files vibes

The Federal Bureau of Control is what I wanted The Southern Reach organization from the Area X series to be like. I wish the sequel to Annihilation had been more like Control instead of the pretty disappointing book that Authority ended up being.

I love the lore and weird stuff you read about in all of the letters and memos you collect, but then again I’m one of those people that actually enjoys hunting for collectibles. If you don’t, you’ll miss out on some interesting world building.

Telekinetically throwing everything never gets boring to me, especially when you level up enough to throw enemies at each other

Dr. Casper Darling is a fucking daddy and god bless them for finding an excuse to show him in his underwear.

The whole cast is pretty nice! Like, friendly nice! Wow, a government agency where most everyone has the best of intentions!

I love you, janitor ❤️

I dunno, I could probably mention more but I’m sure people don’t follow me for my video game reviews. I will say I wish there were more spooky creatures and whatnot, and the ending felt pretty abrupt BUT you can also disregard both of those criticisms since I still have plenty of DLC to go through (which I’ve been told actually works as more of a real and satisfying ending).

[queen-haq]

Fic: A Woman Reborn - Part 23

Pairing: Billy Russo X Reader (from A Woman Scorned)

Rating: R / 18+ only

A/N: This is a sequel to A Woman Scorned and takes place a few years after the events of AWS.

MasterList (includes links to AWS and previous chapters here)

Summary: You and Billy are happily married when tragedy strikes, jeopardizing your relationship and everything you two have built together. Can the two of you find your way back to each other or is the special bond you once shared broken forever?

PART 23

The horror movie on Netflix wasn’t half-bad but your attention was fixated on Billy. He was on the ground, doing push-ups, back muscles flexing with every contraction, skin glistening with sweat. While you watched him he watched the screen, and it was starting to piss you off.

Four days the two of you had been stuck in the cabin, trapped in the middle of nowhere, with nothing to do. While you and Billy had done the rustic cabin thing before, it had always been on weekends – and the two of you spent most of it having sex. But this wasn’t a vacation, and there was no sex. Billy kept his distance, you were still physically recovering, and the only physical contact that happened was when the two of you inadvertently clung to each other in your sleep.

If ever you harbored any illusions about living a simple life in the middle of nowhere, the last few days had broken it. You were a city girl through and through. You liked the fast pace, the chaos of the crowds, living in a city filled with people from all parts of the world. You liked the rush of a demanding career and living the life you struggled so hard to build. And you knew without a doubt Billy felt the same way. He thrived in the hustle, making money, living in the fast lane.

When the two of you first started living together, you wondered if your ambitious natures would create a rift. Instead, it brought you even closer. Carving out time together amidst your busy schedules didn’t happen by accident - it was through deliberate design.  At times that meant turning down lucrative contracts and opportunities for both of you, but that’s what was required to make the relationship work. Business trips were difficult, but you guys worked it out so that you weren’t apart for more than a week at a time. The sex was great afterwards, that wasn’t a surprise, but it was each other’s company you craved more than anything else.

The two of you used to be able to talk about anything, and now here you were, secluded together, and you barely exchanged any words. It reaffirmed all your doubts and fears. Too much had changed. All that love and intensity that once existed was gone. The realisation hurt your heart, made your insides twist with so much agony that it almost rivalled the physical pain you experienced from being tortured.

Billy stood up, bringing you out of your reverie. You noted the way his jaw clenched, how tense he was around you. Tears stung the back of your eyes but you didn’t want to cry in front of him. You got up, strolled over to the door, and slid into your boots before trying to wear your jacket. Not exactly easy to do with your hands bandaged.

“Where you going?”

“For a walk.”

“I’ll come with.”

You turned to face him. “You don’t look like you want to be around me.”

An irritated expression masked his face. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

You exhaled a resigned sigh. “Can we not? I just want some fresh air.”

“I’m not letting you wander around by yourself. So either I go with or you don’t go at all.”

“Really getting off on controlling me, aren’t you?” you bit out through clenched teeth.

He sneered at you, dark eyes flashing anger. “Oh yeah, worrying about keeping you safe 24/7 is getting me all hard.”

“Fuck off!”

You stormed out, muttering to yourself. It was cold outside but not the kind of chill that cut through to your bones. It felt good to breathe it in, to walk through the beautiful grounds with trees covered in snow and appreciate nature. Maybe you weren’t an outdoorsy person but there was something calming about the whole experience. Hearing the snow crunch behind you, you looked over at your shoulder to see Billy following behind you. He had on a dark beanie that covered his hair, nose red with cold, hands tucked into his pocket. Far cry from the man who shot up a warehouse to save you. You continued on your trail.

After several minutes, you stopped in your tracks and turned back to face him. “You can walk beside me if you want.”

He swaggered closer, a smirk playing across his lips. “Not gonna bite my head off?”

“Not yet.”

Next to you now, you both continued to follow the trail into the woods. Neither of you spoke, but unlike in the cabin there wasn’t awkwardness this time. “We used to be able to talk about everything,” you said softly.

He cast you a sidelong glance. “And we can’t now?”

You shrugged your shoulders. “You’ve barely spoken to me in the past few days. That never happened when we used to go away.”

“We spent our vacations fucking not talking.”

You rolled your eyes, shaking your head in exasperation.

“Maybe I’m not in a mood to talk,” he said quietly, staring straight ahead. “Maybe I’m so fucking worried about something happening to you that I’m barely hanging on.”

You stole a quick look at him. His eyes were dark with worry, face solemn. Guilt surged through you; you hadn’t realized he was still concerned but of course he was. You remembered his overprotective instincts all too well. After the relationship became serious, that streak went into overdrive and you had to talk him off the ledge many, many times. “I know you’ve been talking to your contacts. Any word about Fisk? Is he onto us?”

He shook his head. “No. I mean, there’s tons of shit going on. He’s not taking the warehouse burning thing lying down, but he’s got tons of enemies to focus on. We’re not on his radar.”

“Then you don’t have to worry.”

Billy turned to look at you, his gaze roaming over your face. “I’m not taking any chances.”

Silence followed, the only sound being the light wind that had started to blow.  

“When do you think we can go back?” you asked.

There was a long pause before he answered. “Not for a while.”

“But you just said-”

“I was gonna go after Karen when Krista called me. By now she must’ve found out about Cerberus.”

Your heart lurched, remembering the wild goose chase you sent Karen on. She wouldn’t have found anything, but of course Billy didn’t know that.

“She’s probably told Frank all about it now. So it’s not just Fisk I gotta worry about.”

“There’s nothing for Karen to find.”

He stilled, his arm curving around your elbow. “You sent her to Florida.”

You stared up at him. “I did. At first I was hellbent on having her find the truth and tell Frank.” Hurt loomed over his face, causing your stomach to coil with anxiety. “But then I couldn’t go through with it. As much as I hated you, I couldn’t do that to you. So I destroyed everything before she could find it.”

“Because you still love me.”

There was pain in his eyes but there was also a flicker of hope, hope that you didn’t want to feel, even as it emanated from him and reverberated through you, making your heart flutter. That tug of intensity grew strong, palpable, pulling you to him emotionally, overriding your defenses. You glanced away, suddenly finding it hard to breathe. You started walking back to the cabin, your heart pounding in your chest. Earlier you were lamenting about the loss of intensity in your relationship but you’d forgotten how all-consuming it could be, how it fed and strengthened the connection you two shared. The same bond that brought you so much ecstasy and happiness when things were good, and completely shattered you when he turned against you after the accident.

Could you really risk falling so hard again?  To open yourself up so fully that when things didn’t work out you would inevitably find yourself drowning in despair? Somehow you managed to finagle yourself back together after the last time but what if he broke your heart again? There was no way you could bounce back, you weren’t that resilient.

You climbed up the porch stairs and headed for the door.

“You asked why I’m staying away.”

Billy’s voice made you tremble as you turned around to face him. He was standing at the bottom of the stairs leading up to the porch, his dark gaze piercing through you.

“’Cause I don’t know how to be around you without touching you.”

His voice was husky, filled with raw need as he slowly and deliberately stalked forward. “All I fucking want is you. Every hour, every minute. You’re in here.” He tapped the side of his temple. “And here.” He tapped his heart. “You want space, but the only way I can do that is by not looking at you. Because when I see you…” His voice dropped to a whisper as he closed the distance and pressed up against you, trapping you against the door. “I can’t control myself. You drive me fucking crazy, you always have. And I want to invade every fucking inch of you until there’s no you or me, just us.”

You stared up at him, swallowing the lump in your throat as his breath hummed against your cheeks. His close proximity was playing havoc with your mind, heart thundering like it was ready to explode out of your chest.

“But it scares you, this side of me. It always has.”

A sharp breath escaped you when he cradled your face.

“You wish I was normal, don’t you? Someone safe, someone who doesn’t obsess over you.” Hurt saturated his words, anger unfurling in his tone. His breath grew ragged, his hands more desperate as they travelled down from your face to the length of your body, gentle yet demanding as his fingers encircled your hips. “You’ve had a taste of normal and that’s what you fucking want now. But that’s not me. It’ll never be me.”

You shook your head. “I knew who you were since the very beginning.” You glared up at him, daring him to hold your gaze. “The crazy part of you that stalked me and bugged my phone calls and beat up my exes and all that other messy shit you pulled never scared me.”

“No?” he murmured, resting his forehead on yours.

“No.”

“Then why did we fight over that shit?”

“Because you’d try and hide it except you were never that slick.”

He sent you a smile, one that started off as cocky but then shifted to something more pensive, vulnerability eclipsing his molten dark eyes. He was the only one who could disarm you with simply a look, push you to reveal all of your emotions so you were left completely exposed and defenseless. Even now, you were still filled with doubts while still yearning for him. Needing respite, you closed your eyes to him.

“Then tell me what scares you.”

The desperate urgency in his voice made your insides tremble. Tears stung your eyes but you refused to open them and meet his gaze. “It’s the same thing that’s always scared me. That you’ll break my fucking heart.” A wrenching sob escaped you. “And you did, Billy. You broke me.”

You refused to look at him. Not even when he cradled your cheeks, his lips tracing the trail of tears, murmuring soft, sincere apologies, his beard prickling your skin as he held you close. You were so tired and spent from holding it together, of guarding your heart at all times from him. It was exhausting and you were done and you didn’t want to do it anymore.

When he guided you inside you didn’t fight, allowing him to remove your coat and shoes before taking you to the couch and draping you over his lap. His hand caressed through your hair while you clung to him, the other rubbing circles on your thigh.

It was a long while before either of you spoke again, your head tucked into the corner of his neck.

“You think you’ll ever trust me again?”

That was the million dollar question, wasn’t it? And one you didn’t have an answer to. “I don’t know.”

“What can I do?”

You could sense his panic in the way his hands dug into your skin, how distressed he was even though he was trying to appear calm in front of you. You wished you could say comforting words that would reassure him but there was no point; it would be a lie.  “Right now I just need you to hold me.” It wouldn’t solve anything, but it was what you wanted from him.

“I can do that.”

For a long time you two sat there embracing each other, with you occasionally dropping tender kisses on the base of his throat. He hadn’t shaved since the two of you came to the cabin, and you liked the feel of his thicker facial hair, running your fingers along his beard. He stroked your back, clinging to you, like he was afraid to let you go. It reminded you of when you weren’t feeling well or on your period and he would hug you to make you feel better. It was the daily gestures of affection you missed the most, the little things he would do to make your life easier rather than grand romantic acts. “Where would be right now if things hadn’t gotten messed up?”

You felt the weariness in him as he shifted on the couch, bringing you to lie down next to him. Head balanced on his elbow, he hovered over you with his other hand resting on your chest. “It’s not the future I think about anymore.” He paused, his gaze interlocked with yours. “If I could, I’d go back to the past, to that night of the accident. I wouldn’t leave, I’d stay glued right next to you.”

His words broke your heart. You had re-lived that night of the accident so many times, blamed yourself over and over again for insisting he run errands, imagined a million different scenarios where it had been you that decided to leave rather than him –

“I lost everything that night.”

Eyes welled with tears, you reached up to touch his face. Your fingers traced over his scars, wishing there was some way you could make him whole again. He closed his eyes, breathing you in as if consumed by you. Despite all the pain and heartbreak of the past few years, you couldn’t bear to see him so hopeless. “Billy, you have your life back. You have Anvil.”

“None of it means anything without you.”

His despair tugged at you, the devastation in his dark eyes tearing through your soul. You could deal with his anger, but the agonizing grief in his voice wasn’t something you could argue against. “Billy,” you urged softly. “You can be happy again. You were fine before we got together.”

A bittersweet smile curved over his face. “Fine.” He shook his head, snickering. “Yeah, that’s what I was. Just cruising through life. Chasing money and tail.” The smile on his face faded, emotions brimming in the deep pools of his gaze as he centered his focus on you. “I didn’t know what it meant to happy until I fell in love with you.”

You swallowed the lump in your throat, trying not to cry. “Billy-”

“It’s not the same for you, I know,” he said with resigned sadness. “You want to move on with your life. You wanna be happy without me-”

“Because too much has happened!” you protested, your voice cracking. “It took everything I had to get over you!” you insisted, shaking your head. The depth of betrayal and loss you’d experienced had left it’s mark on you permanently, you were terrified of taking that kind of risk again. You couldn’t.

Billy didn’t argue with you. Instead, he took your hand and brought it to his lips, placing a warm kiss on your flesh. “You’re scared to love me again.”

You bit down on your bottom lip, not wanting to speak.

“And I’m fucking terrified of not loving you,” he murmured. “So I guess we’re at an impasse.”

“Maybe our future together isn’t what we imagined but that doesn’t mean it’s a bad thing. Maybe we could-”

“Be friends?” He sneered, mocking you. “And do what? Talk on the phone?”

You yelped when he firmly trapped your hands over your head, caging your face in between. His eyes seemed to come alive suddenly, glinting with menace and anger as he ground down on you, making you acutely aware of every fucking inch of him. “Is that what you want, sugar? Gossip about the losers you’ll fuck?”

You knew it was a stupid idea to taunt him but the possessive part of him had a way of driving you crazy. Seeing him unravel with jealousy was how you first realized he actually cared about you, and that still remained true. Jutting your chin out, you glared up at him defiantly. “I won’t be fucking losers, babe.”

Somehow his pitch-black eyes appeared even darker, his lips breaking into a cheshire cat like smile. “That’s right, sweetheart. You won’t be fucking anyone. ‘Cause I’ll be right there with you, every step of the way, cockblocking anyone who tries to touch you.”

Palpable desire coursed through you as the friction of his jean-clad knee rubbed between your thighs. You could feel his hard-on, your body aching to take him in - but you weren’t ready to give in quiet yet. “You can’t watch my every move, Billy. If I want to fuck random strangers, there’s nothing you can do to stop me.” You feigned a saccharine-sweet smile. “I’ll find a way. I always do.”

“Then I’ll just have to kill anyone who comes near you,” he rasped. His one hand locked down on both of your wrists while the other encircled your neck. His grip was loose, stroking your skin, his eyes holding you captive. “But that won’t be a problem, right? ‘cause you love that about me, don’t you sweetheart?” You trembled as his hand unwrapped from around your neck and trailed down your chest. Despite the thick layer of the sweater you were wearing, you felt his touch sear your skin, making your body tremble.

“I never said I loved it,” you argued back. “Just that I accepted it.”

His smile grew more wicked, daring, as he pulled up your sweater and gathered it around your chest. The cold air in the room provided much needed respite from the heat of his touch until his fingers smoothed over your breasts, tweaking your hardened nipples over your t-shirt bra. Your underwear was far from sexy but the way his eyes gleamed with hunger as he gazed down at you made you feel like you were wearing some exquisite lace lingerie.

“Your tits…” his voice was filled with breathless wonder, like he was seeing you for the first time. Like you were the most beautiful thing he ever saw. “You’re fucking beautiful.”

His mouth closed over your right nipple, sucking on the hardened nub over the fabric of the bra. You squirmed, moaning loudly as Billy devoured your boobs, alternating between them after he removed your bra, moulding your breasts between his hands and worshipping them with his lips.

His grip on you eased, his free hand stroking its way down to your pussy, brushing your cunt in that oh-so-tantalizing way that had you jumping off the couch if not for the weight of Billy’s body weighing you down. You wanted more from him, needed more, his mouth and hands not enough. “Billy, please-”

“Please what?” he growled. He looked up from your left boob, eyes burning bright with passion. He rubbed his beard on your tender skin, eliciting a guttural moan from you. “What do you want, babe?”

“Fuck me!”

“You want my cock, love? Want me inside your sweet, wet cunt so you can squeeze me so hard I lose my fucking mind? Is that how you want it?”

“Yes!” you bit out impatiently, circling your legs around his ass, locking him in place.

He sent you an arrogant smile, full of smugness as he placed tiny, fluttery kisses on your soft belly, dipping his tongue into your navel, sliding down inch by inch. A sharp breath escaped your mouth as he slipped his fingers underneath your tights and past your cotton panties, gliding along your seam, arcing inside you in just the way you liked. You tugged at his arms, coming undone as you begged for more. Before you lost your mind he knelt between your legs, moving his hand to the buttons on his jeans. You moved up to help him-

-when he suddenly moved away from the couch.

Bewildered, you stared after him as he swaggered to the bathroom. “Billy?”

He shut the door behind him, oblivious to you.

Infuriated, you got off the couch and stormed over to the bathroom. Finding it locked, you started banging on the door. The shower turned on the next second.

What the fuck? What the hell was going on?

You started pacing back and forth, trying to calm down.

It was a few minutes before the shower stopped. Soon the bathroom door opened and Billy stood there, towel wrapped around his waist, damp skin and lean muscles aching to be touched. You gave yourself a mental shake, refusing to get distracted. “What the hell was that?”

He smiled. Crossing his arms, he leaned on the doorway. “I realized something,” he drawled in an insolent tone.

“What?”

“I have one trump card in this whole thing and I plan to use it.”

“What the hell does that mean?”

He sauntered forward, arrogant and beautiful as he came to a stop in front of you. You tried not to let his close proximity affect you but it proved to be impossible when he peered at you with his gorgeous face.

“You want me, sweetheart. And I want you. But we’re not gonna fuck until you’re ready to be my wife again.”

To be continued...

A/N - Thanks for your patience and bearing with me. If you’re still reading, thank you so much! I hope you enjoy the conclusion of this universe. I would say about 2-3 more chapters to go.

Also, just wanted to draw attention to this wonderful anon who gifted me lovely fanart. You can see it here. Please leave them a kind word!

[favonius-captain]

𖤐 * ∿  THE WAVES BREAK OUR FALL

𖥻  CHARACTERS

kaeya, diluc x gn! reader

𖥻  GENRE

hurt/comfort

𖥻  SUMMARY

a sequel to pretend it isn't gold, with a happy ending (yay!)

𖥻  LINKS

masterlist

𖥻  NOTES

blood injuries and general angst warnings !

𖥻  KAEYA

he doesn't even his slow his pace as he bursts into the cathedral, hurrying you to barbara

luckily, since it was in the middle of the day, most people weren't out and didn't see the almighty lord kaeya alberich almost in tears

he doesn't stay with you when you get help - he wants to, he really does, but he just

he feels so guilty. he feels like he's undeserving of your love

and he doesn't know how else to help you other than to push you away

he's a danger to you

so while you're being tended to by barbara, kaeya wipes awayhis tears, even though he wants nothing more than to stay by your side and cry whispering apologies

but he doesn't do that

he walks out, pretending nothing happened

he goes out, and he acts like he normally does

he doesn't even take a day off, because he doesn't want to seem "weak"

but even though kaeya is relatively good at hiding things, even jean can see how his eyes look dimmer and how they seem to grow distant when he thinks no one is watching

she tries to convince him to take a day off, but he shakes his head

taking a day off would mean thinking about you. and he can't afford to do that

but if he checks into the bar 2 hours earlier than normal - there's no one there to stop him

he doesn't visit you. even if he wants to

it's a punishment to himself.

no. it's more than that. it's-

it's fear

he's terrified of what you'll think of him - if you'll hate him, and even worse, if you forgive him

he doesn't know how to forgive himself

you were better off without him. you always were

still, when jean tells him that you've woken up, his first instinct is to run to the cathedral

but he doesn't do that. instead, he asks her how you're doing

and when she says you're doing fine, he chokes down a relieved sob.

"take care of them. please."

and then he exits the room

more under cut

"kaeya."

kaeya freezes when he hears your voice, his footsteps coming to a halt. he doesn't turn to you, and for a moment, you think he's going to walk away and pretend he never heard you.

it's been two days since you've woken up, and you're not supposed to be walking around.

but you had to see him. you had to know.

do you really despise me that much? you want to scream.

you're not mad - well, you are, but it's more than that. you're-

you're desperate.

"kaeya, please."

he turns at that - you don't know if it's because the crack in your voice, or if it's the simple word attached to the end - the beginning, the pleading. weak.

"y/n," he says, "you should be in bed."

y/n. it's another punch to the gut - no 'sweetheart,' no 'love.' even the teasing nicknames you used to despise are gone.

when did i lose you? when did you let me go?

but you don't say that. instead, the words catch in your throat as the tears build in your eyes.

"where were you?"

it comes out choked - not angry, just -

lonely.

and with that, he breaks

as your shoulders shake and you begin to sob, he holds out his arms - a question. he doesn't know if he's allowed to touch you

but if you allow him, he'll pull you in close, and whisper apologies in your ears

he tells you he didn't mean it. he tells you he didn't mean any of it

he tells you that he doesn't know what to do with good things in his lives

he doesn't know how to make up for it. he doesn't know how to be vulnerable

but he tries. he damn well tries

"why did you save me?" he whispers, his voice growing quiet at the end. "why did you- why-"

"because you're a good man kaeya."

he leans his forehead against your's. "i hurt you."

"i hurt you too. you weren't the only one who said things you didn't mean."

"don't do that. don't compare yourself to me. you were never as unforgivable as i have been."

he may seem like he's forgotten about it, but he never truly does

he always takes more time out of his day to spend time with you, and always holds you tenderly as if terrified you'll disappear again

he still remembers - sometimes, he thinks of the way your eyes widened and how you hurled yourself over him to save him

or sometimes he thinks about how your face fractured when he told you that he didn't need you

and sometimes, in the middle of the night, you wake up to feeling his arms tightening around you, his shoulders shaking, whispering apologies into your ear

𖥻  DILUC

unlike kaeya, diluc doesn't avoid you

in fact, it's because of his guilt, that he stays by you so often as you're recovering

he's lucky enough that barbara takes you in and heals you

unfortunately, he still doesn't have enough time - the first day you're out, he takes a day off to sit by you, and whisper apologies to your unconscious self

he doesn't believe in archons, but he hopes that they can save you

he works through his documents in record time, so that he can see you

sometimes, he does the work by your bedside, if he can afford it

he feels so disgusted with himself - he still believes that if he hadn't snapped at you, that you would still be here with him

he gets even less sleep than usual - he tends to sleep next to your hospital bed, drifting on and off

so when you start to stir, he's by your side in an instant

he doesn't touch you - he doesn't even come close until you allow him to

you ask him why he's being so weird, and you hold out your arm as if to embrace him

he holds you tenderly, as if scared that he's going to hurt you

he bursts into tears, mumbling apologies into your neck

he promises he'll leave after. he promises that he won't hurt you again

he promises that if it makes you happy, he'll go

he just needs this one moment before his goodbye

and as you pry him away, wiping the tears out of his eyes, you ask him what's wrong

"diluc, darling," you whisper, your voice still hoarse. "why - why do you think you need to leave?"

he stares at you, as if you've grown a second head

do you not remember what he said to you?

but when he stammers and explains, you still take him into your arms, rubbing small circles into his back, mumbling about how it wasn't just his fault

"oh, diluc," you whisper, as he cries against your shoulder. "i just needed time. it wasn't just your fault. we both did things wrong."

"don't - don't do that again," diluc whispers, arms tightening around your waist. "don't try to save me. don't put yourself at risk again. please."

you don't argue with him again, because there's no point in arguing with him

he makes sure to take off time from work to spend time with you, at least for the first week

he may seem clingy, but he just wants to make sure you're okay

in truth, he's terrified of losing you again

and while he doesn't completely forego his batman duties, he does invite you to come with him

how romantic. you guys get to murder hillichurls together

but he doesn't forget about what happened. he never does

and sometimes, when he thinks you're not listening, he interlaces your fingers together, and mumbles a thank you

and that thank you also means i love you & i'm sorry

[watchmegetobsessed]

Tastes Like Strawberries - Harry Styles

a/n: oh this one is a long boi and might not be the end??? i’ve been working on this fic for days and i have an idea for a possible second part, but i wrote this one so it has a fulfilling ending so it can stand as a oneshot as well! i barely just started working on the sequel, we’ll se how it’ll turn out, maybe it goes to shit lmao but whatever, it’s still a nice and whole story without a second part! this is my V-day gift to you all, have this nice professor!harry fic as if it was a box of chocolate! 🍓 🍫 🍬

special thanks to @pastequeharry​ who put up with my constant rambling and whining while i was writing this, you are a hero, his is dedicated to you!!

pairing: professor!Harry x Reader

warning: sexual content, abusing relationship, it’s got smut, angst, lot’s of banter and all that jazz!

word count: 21.4k

masterlist

There’s just a handful of things to know about Professor Harry Styles and that’s because of one of those very few known facts, the first one being that he is a highly private person. He rarely talks about himself or any aspects of his life, he always makes sure to keep it as professional as possible whenever he is teaching.

Second, he is easily the smartest professor to ever walk on campus, but he doesn’t like to brag about it. You never catch him showing off how much he knows, how big of a genius he is, you’ll just start to realize from the way he teaches and approaches certain topics, how he interacts with others and tries to pass his knowledge down to his students. He is brilliant and he should have all the credits for it, yet he still chooses to keep it to himself.

Third, and it’s the most well-known fact because to see this you just need to have a pair of eyes, he is undeniably the most handsome man to ever teach or if you’re being more precise, walk the hallways of the university. No football crazy, alcoholic fratboy or dreamy looking indie guy from the library can live up to what Professor Harry Styles is. With a face clearly carved by the angels, a nicely built but not too muscular frame, and occasionally displayed tattooed arm that makes you wonder what other artworks his stylish outfits are hiding, there’s no man like him and every female on campus agrees with that.

His lectures and courses are jampacked with sighing and heart-eyed college girls, daydreaming about the man who is solemnly just trying to teach the things he is so passionate about. But it’s not just the students, Professor Styles has managed to charm the female professors of all faculties, you can see them wander by his office way too often, they take any opportunity to talk to the man and try to seduce him. It’s unknown if he is oblivious to the effect he has on women or he chooses to ignore every and any attempts, but this is what leads us to the fourth fact.

Despite all the effort and energy that’s been put into his case by every single woman on campus to break the walls the professor has built around himself, he never let any of his students or colleagues to even think they could be romantically linked for real. Professor Styles keeps his distance and turns down any offer that could be mistaken to anything that doesn’t fit in the professional boundaries.

Anytime a student puts on the slightest flirtatious act towards the professor, he either rejects it straight away or ignores it completely and blatantly, making it his clear answer that he is not interested and then he goes back to teaching. You’ve seen it yourself, having him as one of your professors first year of uni, you fell for him just like every other girl in the lecture hall, dreaming about him in ways you probably shouldn’t think of a teacher while he was just casually talking about his grading system and how he is going to build up the lectures throughout the semester. Some brave girls who you assume were highly celebrated by boys in high school took the courage to openly flirt with him, but he didn’t even flinch before shutting all attempts down, not even a blush appeared on his perfectly cut cheekbones.

You thought of ways you’d try to seduce him yourself, but you never actually tried. You never had the balls to actually give it a go and then suffer from the worst embarrassment of your life when he rejects you. So you kept it all to yourself, only entertaining yourself with your elaborate plans about the seduction of your professor.

Second year passed without any classes with Professor Styles, you had only occasionally seen him come and go, rushing down the hallways holding his notebooks to his chest, a steaming cup of coffee in his other hand as he was heading to his lecture hall that you just knew was filled with girls. You always took a moment to yourself to admire his outfit. He has a tendency to pair odd items and make them look like the most put together fit ever that only he can pull off. However, you and your girlfriends always loved to tease him between each other for his grandpa-like sweaters and vests he seemed to love dearly.

“He confuses me, because I want him to fuck me on his desk but also, I feel like he is about to ask me what periodt means because he is too old to understand slang these days,” your friend, Nat said once when your little group was lounging under the huge oak tree between classes and the professor rushed past you, disappearing in the building without paying any of you a look. He wore a pair of beige slacks and a striped sweater, a wrinkly grey shirt peeking from under it at the bottom. The colors and the style overall once again gave you that old people feeling, but then you looked at his handsome face and couldn’t care any less about whatever he was wearing.

The most intimate way you ever saw him was a few days after your twenty-first birthday the summer before your last year of uni started. You just got back from your hometown, the first person to arrive back to your shared flat with Nat and Eden, so you had a few days on your own. You decided to redecorate your room so you took a trip to IKEA, taking your time looking through the set up rooms, just wandering around as you try to figure out what you really want to buy. Walking through the living room section you spotted the professor and first, you didn’t even recognize him.

He was wearing a pair of bright yellow shorts and a short sleeved shirt with floral prints on it, a pair of white framed sunglass on top of his head, keeping his unruly strands out of his face as he was eyeing a couch, seemingly deep in his thoughts. You stopped in your tracks, seeing him in such a casual and everyday setting. For some reason, he seemed like a completely different person.

A woman was there with him and as you walked closer you could hear a fraction of their discussion.

“I don’t know, Gems. Do I need a couch this big?”

“Looks comfy and I like the color. It would also fit in the space just right, I think you should get the bigger one if you have the space for it,” the woman put her two cents in and you wondered who she could be. Girlfriend? Just a casual friend? Maybe fiancé? She did have a ring that could easily go as an engagement ring so you couldn’t tell for sure.

As you were about to walk past you suddenly took the courage to say hi.

“Hello, Professor Styles!” you greeted him with a warm smile and his eyes flickered over to you from the couch in question. One thing you always admired about him is that he never forgot the faces of his students and as he looked at you, you knew he recognized you even if he didn’t know your name specifically.

“Oh, hello,” he nodded in your way.

“I like the couch,” you commented before slowly moving on. “Have a nice rest of your summer!”

“You too, Y/N,” he called after you and it took you by surprise that he remembered your name. Your lecture he taught had almost over a hundred students in it and you weren’t the most active one to stand out that easily, yet he still remembered you more than you were expecting.

That small encounter kept you thinking about him for way longer than you probably should have, especially because you knew you’d have a lecture with him again in the upcoming semester. Your daydreams about him made their way back into your mind as you spent the last days of your summer mostly with your friends. It got you thinking that if you managed to get him to remember your name, maybe you would give one of your plans a go and shoot your shot. He wouldn’t be teaching you in your last semester so you wouldn’t have to face him after he rejects you.

And this is how you came up with your little scheme.

On your last Sunday evening before school starts, you, Nat and Eden sit in the floor of your living room, drinking some white wine as a way of saying goodbye to the carefree summer moments and getting back to the working days of being a senior at uni. Professor Styles came up completely randomly and you let it slip that you’ve just seen him recently at IKEA with a woman and it all led to you admitting that you’ll finally shoot your shot at the professor. Nat and Eden both did the same already, however their attempts were completely ignored and they always bugged you to give it a try yourself, being the only one in your group who hasn’t tried to seduce the professor yet.

“I’ll tell you, but you can’t tell me it’s stupid because I actually think it’ll be funny and a little bit genius,” you tell them before you start sharing the details on your plan.

“Just spill the beans already!” Eden pokes you before she reaches for the bottle and refills her glass.

“Okay, so you both know I took this psychology class last semester for extra credits, right?” The nod and you continue. “The teacher told us about this thing called classical conditioning or they call it pavlovian response too. The guy, Pavlov, did an experiment where he paired the feeding of dogs with a bell ring and after a certain amount of time the dogs started salivating at just the sound of the bell, because they remembered that it’s connected to food. The teacher said this is literally one of the easiest tricks to pull on people.”

“Oh, isn’t this one of the things Jim did on Dwight in The Office?” Nat asks furrowing her eyebrows.

“It is!” you nod, glad that they are understanding the base of your plan. “So, I’ve heard that Professor Styles loves strawberry flavored candies. I thought that I would bring some every day when I see him and offer him some. Slowly, he’ll pair the candy with the thought of me and he’ll get excited when he sees me because he’ll think I have candy for him and it will hopefully work the other way around and he’ll think of me when he is eating strawberry flavored candy that’s not from me.”

Your friends blink at you for a moment, processing what you just shared with them before Eden takes a huge sip of her drink.

“This is the most ridiculous but also the most genius thing I’ve ever heard,” she nods holding her glass up towards you.

“I can’t believe you will pull a psychological experiment on Professor Styles,” Nat shakes her head with a soft chuckle.

“It’s not a blunt way to get closer to him and if he accuses me of trying to flirt I can just say that I’ve been only sharing candy with him, I literally did nothing,” you point out, pretty proud of your solution to your deep fear of having to take his rejection publicly.

“If you get a Noble for this shit, make sure to thank us in your speech,” Eden laughs and you promise to do so when the big moment comes.

Monday morning you make a quick trip to Target and buy a big bag of strawberry flavored candies, probably enough to last for the whole semester, and then you make your way to campus. Following your first lecture you meet up with Eden who also signed up for Professor Styles’ lecture this semester, so the two of you make your way towards the lecture hall together.

“I really can’t believe you are doing this,” she chuckles when you get the candy ready as you near the room. The professor is always the first one in the lecture hall so you know you’ll find him there already.

“You can’t tell me it’s not a funny plan,” you smirk at her. And just as you walk in, you immediately spot the professor sitting at the desk at the front, going over the syllabus before the start. “Save a seat for me,” you tell Eden who just laughs and makes her way up the stairs along the desks.

Grabbing the pack of sweets from your bag you walk up to the professor, feeling confident with your plan. He lifts his head up when he notices your arrival and your eyes meet with his green ones.

“Hello, professor. Would you like some candy?” you simply ask with an innocent smile.

Professor Styles stares at you for a moment before his eyes move down to the candy in your hand, the opening of the bag facing him in a welcoming manner.

“I, uhh… what flavor?” he curiously asks and you can barely push down your smirk.

“Strawberry.”

“Oh. I’ll… take one, thank you,” he nods, hand reaching into the bag as he grabs just one single candy, unwrapping the package before he pops it into his mouth. “Thank you,” he nods again with a delightful smile.

“Of course. Did you buy the couch?” you ask, taking slow steps away from the desk as he keeps his eyes on you.

“I… did not. Bought another one,” he admits shortly and you know you’ve reached the limit. If you ask more, he’ll get suspicious, so you just nod smiling before walking up to the spot Eden has reserved for you. When you sit down, you catch the professor paying you one last glance before he returns to what he was previously doing.

“You are a genius, because now we can watch him suck on a fucking candy for the next few minutes,” Eden mumbles quietly, making you laugh.

“I knew this would be a good plan,” you sigh, satisfied with the work you’ve done. Now it’s just a matter of time.

Every Monday and Wednesday, you arrive with the same bag of candy to the lecture hall, walk up to Professor Styles and offer him one. And he always takes one. The first few times he seems hesitant when he spots you approaching him, but he slowly grows used to your tiny act of kindness that occurs every time you see him. On week three you expand the plan. You usually have lunch with Nat on Thursdays since you both have a break between one and two pm. The two of you try to take advantage of the warm early autumn days and sit under the pergola that’s near the building where Professor Styles’ office is as well. It’s mere coincidence, you only like that place because it’s close to the lecture hall you have to go to after lunch, but you notice that the professor emerges from Building C around one thirty, walking back to his office probably after one of his classes. The sidewalk runs directly next to the pergola so it gives you a chance to bring the candy out one more time every week. You nicely greet him when he is nearing the two of you and then hold out the bag, asking if he wants some. He always takes one and thanks you with a sweet smile that leaves you a tad bit blushed.

“I can’t fucking believe your plan is working,” Nat chuckles in disbelief on one occasion when the professor just disappeared in the building, probably happily unwrapping his candy of the day.

“It’s funny, innit?” you grin at her proudly.

Frankly, this is just a fun experiment for you. You don’t actually think that the professor will think of you differently even the slightest. You might be able to plant the thought of you in his head, but that doesn’t instantly mean that he’ll start fancying you and actually do something about it. It would be ridiculously naïve to think it’s going to be you who breaks through the wall that hundreds of women had already tried to knock down.

Week six is what brings the breakthrough. After long consideration and discussion with Nat and Eden, you decide to test if the experiment has been successful. You offer one last candy on Monday, but Wednesday brings the change. You go to lecture without candy. Well, you have it on you, but you decide not to ask him if he wants some.

Walking into the lecture hall, as always, he is already sitting at his desk, flipping through the pages of a book when you walk up to him with the intention of asking him a question on the paper that’s due next week.

“Professor Styles?” you softly speak up, catching his attention. “Can I have a question about the paper?”

“Of course,” he nods and you can’t tell just yet if he was expecting the candy or not.

“I was wondering if I can use a diagram to visualize my results at the end. I have a brilliant idea to summarize the data with one.”

“Sure, just make sure to give credit wherever it’s due, if you are using someone else’s work for the diagram.”

“Definitely,” you smile at him and wait a moment. That’s where you see the anticipation in his eyes.

His gaze flickers down to your hands and then to your bag where you always carry the candy and when his eyes meet yours again, you see him swallow hard.

He was expecting the candy. Not only expecting, but he started salivating when he saw you, thinking that he would get the candy from you as always.

“Is… that all?” he asks, the slightest hint of hope appearing in his tone, probably waiting for you to pull the bag of candy out of your bag and offer him one. But it’s not happening today.

“Yes, thank you very much,” you nod smiling widely before you turn around and walk away, a shocked and triumphant look appearing on your face once he can’t see it anymore and when Eden sees you, she gasps.

“He fucking expected the candy, didn’t he?!” she whispers at you in shock and you nod frantically, still not believing your plan worked.

“You should have seen the anticipation in his eyes, he really thought I was gonna offer him some!”

“Oh my God, this is hilarious!” Eden laughs covering her mouth as the lecture hall starts to fill up slowly.

Turning forward, you see that the professor is sitting behind his desk, the book that had his attention before your arrival is long forgotten in front of him, now he is staring ahead of him with slightly furrowed eyebrows, deep in his thoughts.

Is he thinking about you? Or why he was expecting candy from you?

You see him reach for his water bottle and he takes two big gulps probably to wash away his need for the candy before he narrows his eyes and at last they find you in the auditorium. You tilt your head to the side innocently smiling, as if you know absolutely nothing about anything. You keep eye-contact, forcing you not to be the one who breaks it and he is intimidating. You feel like he can read your mind as he stares at you and when he finally turns his gaze back at the book, you exhale sharply.

The lecture goes down just as usual and when the professor dismisses the class you decide to put the cherry to the top. Walking down between the desks you grab a candy from your bag and while the professor is talking to a girl who also had a question about the paper, you place the candy to his desk next to his book. He doesn’t see you walk out and you don’t see him when he finds it, but something is telling you he figured you out. No way a man as smart as him doesn’t realize what game you’ve been playing with him.

Sitting under the pergola on Thursday you are deep in discussion with Nat, helping her with a task sheet she has to turn in after lunch but she completely forgot about it. As the two of you are trying to do the seemingly endless sheet, you don’t even notice the professor walking from Building C, as always, but he spots you.

“No, I don’t think that’s even a thing, you can’t write that,” you tell Nat, but she shakes her head.

“I don’t care if it’s a thing, I just want to fill in the whole thing so the teacher doesn’t think I finished it in twenty minutes before class,” she mumbles, scribbling down her answer as you just chuckle at her.

Suddenly, you see a pair of dusty Vans appear in your sight and as your eyes move up, you are facing none other than Professor Styles, standing right in front of you, holding out his hand with his hand turned upwards, a cheeky smile tugging on his lips. His appearance takes you by surprise and for a moment you just dumbly stare down at his palm, then up at his eyes.

“Very smart. Pulling a pavlovian on me with my favorite candy,” he speaks up, dropping his hand as he cocks his head to the side. Nat looks up from her sheet with wide eyes as you stare at the professor with blushing cheeks.

“I have no idea what you are talking about, professor,” you tell him with a knowing smirk.

“Of course. You know, it took me a moment to realize yesterday, but I wanted to let you know that… I think it was clever.”

“If I knew anything about what you’re talking about… I would say thank you. But I stand up for my innocence.”

“Surely,” he chuckles softy. “Have a great rest of your week,” he then nods before turning around to walk away, but you quickly reach into your bag and grab a candy.

“Professor Styles!” you call out and he turns back just in time to catch the candy you throw in his way. He glances at it in his palm before his eyes snap up to you again, smirking at you shortly before he disappears in the building.

“Okay, call me stupid, but I could feel the sexual tension between the two of you,” Nat says as soon as the professor is out of sight.

“Don’t be silly, it was just… a joke and he liked it.”

“He called you clever, Y/N!”

“No, he called my trick clever.”

“But you came up with it so you’re clever too. Say whatever you want, but I actually think you have a shot at him.”

“I definitely don’t,” you laugh shaking your head and you genuinely believe it. Nat scoffs before she gets back to her sheet, but not without having one last thought about the situation.

“We’ll be laughing at how you brainwashed him into liking you when you’ll be dating for years, living together and all that shit.”

You’ve made some very questionable choices in your dating life prior. Like when you dated a boy in high school and let him take your virginity at the back of his mom’s minivan just to break up with your right after that, or when you briefly dated the guy you met at the mall, but it later turned out he was gay and he used you as his cover up in front of his family. But the worst decision of all was dating an egoistic forty years old loser who just freshly got divorced and went after you at some tacky bar you were at with your friends.

The time you spent dating Victor is way less than the time he has been bothering you, trying to make you go back to him when you’ve actually told him you don’t want anything to do with him anymore. You broke up with him just before you went home for the summer and he didn’t take it well, even drove up to your hometown and showed up at your parents’ house drunk, begging for you to take him back. He never stood a chance, not after that one time he slapped you across the face during a fight the two of you had. You tolerate a lot of things but not violence and you don’t believe him when he says it was just a onetime thing. There’s no guarantee he won’t hit you ever again and you are definitely not waiting around to see if he told you the truth.

On this particular late October evening you are searching through your whole room looking for a book you know you have, but can’t seem to find anywhere. It’s your holy bible about research methodology and you need it for your thesis work, but it seems like the small apartment has completely swallowed it.

“Didn’t you leave it at Victor’s? You were working on that long essay when you were dating him, saw you use the book all the time,” Eden tells you when you ask her if she’s seen it anywhere and then it clicks.

She is right, now you remember leaving the book at his once and you completely forgot to pick it up after things got nasty between the two of you.

“Damn it,” you growl in annoyance.

Not feeling like calling him, you send him a quick text, hoping he still has it and hasn’t burned it after one of your fights.

Y/N: Hey, I think I left my research methodology book at yours. You still have it?

Victor: I do.

Y/N: Cool, can I drop by to pick it up?

Victor: I’m leaving for work, you can come to the bar if you want it.

You sigh in defeat. Victor is a bartender at a place that’s all the way across town, takes almost an entire hour to get there, but you are left with no other choice.

Y/N: Okay, I’ll see you there.

The raining has finally stopped this morning so you feel better leaving the house than you would have if it was still pouring. You take the bus and travel across town, feeling anxious to see Victor again. Last time you met him he cursed you out and threw his phone at you, barely missing your head. You promised yourself you wouldn’t go near him again after that, but it seems like you can never get completely rid of him.

Students rarely come to this part of the town, it’s way too far from campus and has nothing to offer that can’t be found closer to the dormitories or the school’s buildings. It’s not entirely your scene either, the bars around here are liked by older generations, not by people your age, this is another reason why you don’t like coming around here.

The bar where Victor works is a place where they have different local bands perform every Friday and Saturday. It’s not a tacky nook with creepy dudes, they actually have prices on the higher end, not something you can necessarily afford with your part time job’s paycheck from the small accounting office near your apartment where you work as an assistant on your free afternoons.

Walking into the place you immediately spot Victor behind the bar and you take a deep breath before you walk up to him.

“Hey,” you call out for him, taking one of the stools along the bar.

“Hey. Long time no see.”

“Happens when you break up with someone,” you respond with a little spice and he frowns at your words. “Can you give me the book?”

“I’ll have a break in ten, can you wait for that or you have something extra urgent shit to do, as always?” You can tell he is still bitter from how things ended between the two of you, but you’ve learned not to care about it. His way of dealing with the breakup is not your responsibility, no matter how hard he is trying to prove it wrong.

You roll your eyes but nod, knowing well there’s no use to fight him. Ten minutes is not the end of the world. Busying yourself on your phone, you try to stay unnoticed and luckily, Victor can’t keep chatting with you, because customers keep coming up to him and ordering drinks. When he finally has his break he tells you to follow him to the back.

“So how have you been?” he asks as you walk down the hallway that leads to the small break room, there’s an office at the end and some kind of changing room you guess for the bands, along with a storage.

“Fine.”

“You really gonna be a bitter bitch and not talk to me?” he asks you, giving you a disgusted look, but you know it’s just the anger talking from him.

“Victor, I didn’t come here to talk, I just need my book!”

“That doesn’t mean you can’t answer my question.”

“I answered it! I’ve been fine, now give me the damn book!” you growl, losing your patience with him, but he is seemingly in the same shoes.

“When will you stop being a bitch and just drop this ridiculous act, Y/N? I’ve been after you for months yet you keep ignoring me!”

“Did it ever occur to you that I’m ignoring you because I don’t want anything to do with you? Victor, it’s been months, just… move the fuck on! Go cry to your ex-wife or something, I don’t care!”

You didn’t mean to snap, but he always brings the worst out of you. From the corner of your eyes you can see movement at the other end of the hallway where the changing room is, but you don’t get to pay much attention to it, because the next moment Victor grabs you by your arm and yanks you towards him.

“Don’t fucking talk to me like that! You ungrateful slut, I swear…”

There’s little you can do, he is twice as big as you are, his grip on your arm so strong there’s no doubt it will leave a mark. Your heart is racing as you try to pull yourself out of his hold, but he doesn’t even bat an eye at your attempt.

However, before he could drag you into the empty breakroom to do god knows what, he is stopped by a voice.

“Hey! Let her go!”

If you weren’t shocked enough at his violent reaction, now you are definitely think you’re going nuts, because it’s none other than Professor Styles who is now nearing you with a hard expression on his face, two other guys following right behind him and though none of them are bigger than Victor, he knows he can’t just start a fight with three men.

Your chest is heaving when the professor finally reaches you and Victor’s hold lets go of you, making you fall back a little.

“You perform here twice and think you’re some kind of rockstar?” Victor spats at the professor, but you’re a little lost in what’s really going on. Professor Styles gently grabs your wrist and pulls you behind him, eyes never leaving Victor’s burning gaze.

“You alright?” one of the other two men asks and you nod, not finding your voice to actually speak.

“Get the hell out of my sight before I call the police on you,” the professor answers in a calm yet threatening voice

Victor takes a second to himself, thinking about the choices he has before he turns around and disappears in the breakroom, slamming the door behind him, leaving you in complete shock about what just happened.

Professor Styles then turns around, his eyes soften at seeing how shaken you are and quite frankly, you feel like you are in a bad and quite weird dream.

“Are you okay? Did he hurt you?” he asks, clearly worried about you and you just shake your head no.

“I-I’m fine, I think,” you mumble out of breath.

“Come on, let’s get out of here,” the guy who asked if you’re alright suggests and you nod in agreement, following them kind of blindly, the three of them keeping you in their little circle as you walk out to the bar and they don’t stop until you are out of the place in the cold night air. You slowly come back to reality and process that Professor Styles just saved you out of fucking nowhere from your abusive asshole ex. That’s what you call a plot twist.

You finally take a moment to look at the other two guys, they both look the same age as the professor, or maybe a little older, both of them are rocking some facial hair, the one that asked you seems a little more open while the other one quite reserved but friendly looking.

“What… What were you doing back there?” you ask, turning to face the professor. He clearly seems upset, but you’re not sure if it’s entirely because of what happened with Victor back then or because you are standing outside some random bar on a Saturday night, definitely crossing his personal boundaries he keeps so high at school.

“We played here tonight, was just about to leave when I saw you.”

“You have a band?” you ask, shocked at the detail.

“A pretty good one,” the talkative guy chuckles. “I’m Adam, nice to meet you. This is Mitch.”

You shake hands with them introducing yourself as well.

“Y/N is… my student,” the professor adds as if he is clearing the air for his bandmates, a kind of warning for them.

From the direction of the parking lot two women emerge, laughing on something as they walk up to the four of you, both of them eyeing you curiously.

“Hey boys, who is this pretty girl?”

“Sarah, Charlotte, this is Y/N, she is my student. Y/N, these are my other band mates, Sarah and Charlotte,” the professor introduces you as you shake hands with them quickly.

“I-I’m sorry I interrupted your time with your friends, professor,” you shyly apologize, feeling like a complete intruder all of a sudden with all his bandmates around you.

“Interrupt? Sweetheart, that dude was about to do some unforgivable things to you, don’t apologize for needing help,” Adam snorts. “You’re lucky we were there.”

“What? What happened?” Sarah asks in confusion.

“Just… my asshole ex got a little too violent when I didn’t want to chit-chat with him,” you admit with a defeated sigh.

“Oh shit, but are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” you smile faintly, though you still can feel his grip on your upper arm. “I, um… I better get going, I guess. Thank you for… the saving,” you say, a little lost about what should be said in this situation.

“You’re leaving? We were just about to go to a much better place, why don’t you come with us, forget about your ex a little?” Charlotte offers and you catch the professor’s panicked look for a split second.

“I, um… I don’t think I should, but thank you.”

“Why shouldn’t you?” Sarah questions.

“Because I know how Professor Styles hates to mingle with students outside of lectures and I don’t want to cross any lines,” you truthfully admit. The professor furrows his eyebrows.

“I don’t hate mingling with students,” he states.

“Well, you are surely not the most reachable professor on campus,” you chuckle lightly. “But it’s fine, I understand it. So I’ll just head home.”

“Come on, Harry. Let her tag along for just one drink!” Sarah begs and seemingly everyone would be happy to have you join for a little. The professor’s eyes meet yours, as if he is contemplating whether he should say yes or let you go home. When he finally speaks up you’re more surprised than when you realized it was him saving you from Victor.

“I guess you could use a drink after what happened in there,” he says, the tiniest smirk showing on his lips as your eyes shoot up.

“You sure?”

“Yeah, come on,” he nods and your little group heads down the street.

Turns out the place they were heading to was just two corners down, so they left all their stuff at the minivan at the parking lot for the time being. You slide into an empty booth, Adam and Mitch go to get the first round, so it’s just the three of you girls and the professor.

“So you’re in one of Harry’s lectures?” Charlotte asks with a warm smile.

“Yeah, for the second time, actually. Had him in first year, now it’s my fifth semester and I had no doubt I have to take his class if I have the chance.” You pay a glance at him, but he is staring at his hands on his lap, you can’t tell if it’s because he is uncomfortable with you there or if it’s something else.

“It’s so funny, because we’ve heard that he is known to be a good teacher but we never actually heard it from one of his students,” Sarah chuckles. “What’s he like?”

“Sarah, you enjoy talking about me when I’m very much present?” he scoffs, giving her a look, but she just shrugs innocently.

“Come on, I bet even you’re curious about what your students think of you. Now is your time to find it out!”

“I think Professor Styles knows very well that he is one of the best, if not the actual best,” you truthfully say and see him raise his eyebrows a little.

“What makes him so good?” Charlotte questions.

You glance at him again, as a way of asking for permission if you can answer. You definitely don’t want to make him even more uncomfortable by talking about him when he is right next to you. He looks into your eyes, and his expression tells you that he wants to hear your answer as well, but he quickly adds:

“You don’t have to answer, Y/N.”

“It’s not a secret,” you admit it with a smile. “Professor Styles’ lectures always leave you with a question to think about until next week, he is great at getting into your head without you even noticing. He explains the most complicated things in so simple ways, it should be taught,” you say with a soft chuckle. “I think his enormous knowledge about many different fields in science and just life in general is amusing, anyone can learn something from him, it’s guaranteed.”

“Wow, where is this academic genius side of yours when you’re around us, or we only get to see the dad joke version of you?” Sarah teases him and you can’t push down a laugh, imagining him cracking dad jokes feels so alien but still kind of fitting for him.

“That’s what you get when you’re a nosy little thing,” he retorts with a small smirk. He then turns to you, and as Sarah and Charlotte are laughing on something, he lowly tells you: “You can call me Harry outside of school. Feels weird that you call me professor when my friends are around.”

“You sure?”

He nods and you spot a small smile on his lips. He must be getting used to the feel of you being there, but you still don’t want to push his limits too much.

“Can I ask you something?” he questions, leaning back in his seat.

“Of course.”

“If your ex is this aggressive, why were you there with him?”

His question is surprising, you didn’t think he would ask you something personal, but you guess it’s a valid question after he just saved you from Victor.

“I wanted to get a book back that I left at his place. Didn’t even get to the point where he could have given it back,” you mumble under your breath.

“What book?”

“Just this… research methodology book, wanted it back for my thesis work, but I guess I’ll have to buy a new one,” you huff bitterly.

“Is it the one written by William Scott?”

“Y-Yeah, it is. You know it?” you ask, but then realize it’s a bit of a dumb question. He probably knows every academically important book you will ever come across.

“I actually have it myself,” he nods. Just then, Mitch and Adam return with the drinks and you thank them for the beer, already reaching for your money to pay, but Adam shakes his head.

“It’s on me, don’t worry.”

You watch as Mitch sits beside Sarah, curling an arm around her shoulders and though you couldn’t have guessed that they are a couple, seeing them like this it actually makes sense, they look cute together.

You take a sip from your beer, trying to join the conversation Sarah and Charlotte are having, when your attention is pulled back by Harry.

“I can… lend you the book, if you want.”

“Oh, you don’t have to. I’ll just get a new one.”

“No, really. I think I even have two copies, I can give one to you.”

“I couldn’t ask you that, prof—I mean Harry.”

“You’re not asking,” he smiles at you softly. “I probably won’t need both, so why not put the extra into use?”

“Okay, but I’ll pay for it,” you insist, but Harry shakes his head.

“No need, one of them was a gift so I didn’t pay for it either.”

“Well… if you’re sure about it, I would love to have that extra copy, thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

“So Y/N, what do you study exactly?” Adam questions, pulling you out of your little discussion with Harry.

“I’m majoring in anthropology, but I’ve been taking some psychology classes on the side just because I’m interested in the topics.”

“And what is Harry teaching you?”

“Had him for intro Sociology lecture first year, now I’m in his Methodology of Cultural Anthropology class.”

“All these subjects with their GY endings, I don’t know how you two put up with science on this level,” Sarah huffs in amusement.

“The names sometimes sound fancier than the subject itself,” you tell her smiling.

“But I bet you need to be quite smart to study these stuff on this level you are at.”

“Oh, it’s just a bachelorette degree, I wouldn’t say I’m that smart,” you chuckle shyly.

“She is totally toning it down,” Harry speaks up, catching everyone’s attention. “I know students tend to take my into Sociology class for just some extra credits so I always give them two options for the semester. They can either write a two pages long review of any article related to the topics talked about at lecture and get their strong C with the bare minimum, or actually participate and do a research of their own and turn in an at least seven pages long essay about their chosen topic. Y/N turned in an eleven pages long paper on the history of death sentences in the U.S. in the last fifty years and how society is thinking about it nowadays. It was easily one of the best works I’ve ever read and it was just an intro class.”

“You remember my essay?” you ask in complete shock.

“Of course. As I said, one of the bests I’ve read,” he nods confidently.

“So you’re like… on Harry’s smart level, actually?” Sarah asks, tilting her head to the side and you can feel yourself blushing.

You’ve always been said to be the smart kid at school, but you never thought it to be true yourself. In your book, you were just doing your absolute best, soaking in whatever knowledge was thrown in your way. You never actually understood how someone could just not study for an exam or not do an assignment, because you always felt like it was your duty to do the best you can. You thought yourself to be more of a hard-working student rather than a smart one.

“She is definitely a bright one,” Harry agrees, his eyes meeting yours as a small smile appears on his lips and you think that this is the biggest compliment you’ve ever gotten. “She actually tricked me with a psychological experiment and I didn’t even realize it,” he laughs and you can’t hold your smirk back.

“What? What did you do?” Charlotte asks, dying to know how you played Harry.

“Have you heard of the Pavlovian response?” you ask looking around and you can tell it rings a bell for all of them.

“The one with the dogs and the bell?” Mitch asks and you nod.

“Wait you did that on Harry?” Adam laughs with wide eyes and you just nod with a sly smile.

“I just offered him strawberry flavored candies every time I saw him. Took me six weeks to build up the response but he actually started expecting it whenever he saw me,” you tell them chuckling to yourself.

“And I only realized it when she stopped with the candy and I felt this massive feeling that something was missing,” Harry adds shaking his head with a soft laugh.

“Okay, that’s hilarious,” Sarah snorts clapping her hands together. “Y/N, I adore you, you’re brilliant!”

“It was just… an experiment,” you shrug shyly.

The night carries much faster than you realize. One drink turns into three and before you could realize, it’s already past midnight. Eden texts you, asking where you are since you said you’d just get the book and go home right away, but it’s been hours.

Y/N: Don’t freak out, but I’m at a bar with Prof. Styles and his friends. I’ll tell you everything tomorrow!

Eden: HOW DO YOU EXPECT ME NOT TO FREAK OUT AFTER READING THIS???!?!

Y/N: Lol, chill. Nothing extra is happening.

Eden: It’s already extra that you’re out with him.

Realizing how late it is, you decide you better get going, since it’s a long way back home. When you tell the little group that you’re about to head out, they all agree that it’s time to part ways and leave, so you all slowly make your way back to the parking lot.

“Do you know where the bus stop is back?” you ask, narrowing your eyes, trying to spot where you should be heading.

“You want to go home by bus at this time?” Harry asks.

“Well, I surely won’t pay for a ride, I live almost an hour away from here.”

“An hour?” he frowns. “I’ll take you home, come on,” he tells you, heading towards the minivan.

“What? No need. The bus is fine,” you protest, but he shakes his head.

“You are not taking the bus at this hour, not under my watch,” he simply states and you raise your eyebrows at him.

“Didn’t realize I was under your watch,” you tease him and it seems like your comment caught him off-guard. “Don’t piss your pants, I was just joking,” you tell him, and thought for a second you feel like you are being way too comfortable around him, his smile quickly smashes your doubts.

Sarah, Mitch and Charlotte all take an Uber since they live near each other and Adam is picked up by his wife, so when everyone is off to their own way, you and Harry get in the van and head to your place.

“How long have you had the band?” you ask, in need to break the silence that’s been weighing down on the two of you. “If you don’t mind me asking,” you add quickly when you see him.

“About four years. Used to have another one, but we parted ways.”

“And what do you do in the band?”

“I, uhh… Well I mostly sing but I also play the guitar.”

“You know, I’m not that surprised you can sing,” you chuckle to yourself sinking further down in your seat.

“How come?”

“You have a voice that’s great to listen to at lectures, makes sense that you can sing as well.”

You take a moment to look at his hand that’s gripping the steering wheel, he is the kind that drives with one hand on the wheel, the other one on the shifting gear. He makes it look so easy as he steers the wheel whenever he is turning a corner while his other one easily moves around the shifting gear, his tattoos are peeking from under his rolled up shirt sleeve. He catches you staring and you feel a blush burning on your cheeks as you turn your head to the other side. Maybe you shouldn’t have drunk that third beer…

“Am I really seen that rigid by the students?” he speaks up after a while and you turn back to face him.

“What do you mean?”

“You said I’m known about not mingling with students.”

“Well, you don’t mingle, do you? But it doesn’t mean you come off as rigid. More like… closed-off. Private.”

“I know I should be a little friendlier, but I just…”

“You don’t have to explain yourself, I think everyone gets it why you’re like that.”

“Do they?” he arches an eyebrow.

“Well, you’re obviously a ladies’ favorite, but it doesn’t sit well with you being a person of some sort of power. It’s clear that you don’t want anyone to get the wrong picture about you. I’ve seen how bluntly girls are flirting with you, some of them are quite scandalous if you ask me,” you huff to yourself. “I totally get it that you don’t want even just a rumor to spread about you.”

“Didn’t think I was that obvious,” he admits, running his tongue over his lips.

“Don’t worry about it, you’re still a highly fancied professor, in all means,” you tell him with a warm smile.

“Does this mean you also fancy me?” he suddenly questions and your lips part at his words. He quickly realizes how ambiguous he just sounded. “I mean, am I one of your favorites? Where do I stand in your chart of professors?”

You can’t tell for sure because of the lack of lighting, but you could have sworn there’s a light blush on his cheeks as he corrects himself. Because of this, you don’t know for sure if he really meant it academically. Either way, the answer is the same.

“You’re my favorite,” you confidently state and your eyes meet for a moment before he turns back to face the road.

The rest of the ride is pretty quiet, you keep giving him directions to your place until you finally arrive a little before one am.

“Well, thank you for the ride,” you smile at him, grabbing the door handle.

“See you on Monday,” he nods shortly and watches as you get out of the can.

“Yeah, see you, professor,” you smirk before shutting the door and walking up the stairs and disappearing in your building.

“Was that Professor Styles in the fucking minivan?!” Nat throws the question at you the moment you open the front door.

“Jesus, why are you still up?” you sigh, shutting the door and shimmying yourself out of your coat.

“Because we were waiting for you!” Eden rolls her eyes. “So, care to tell us what the fuck just happened?” The three of you get comfortable on the couch and you give them a quick rundown of your evening from meeting Victor through being saved by Harry right to him offering to drive you home and they listen to you with wide eyes in complete shock that you just spent your entire evening with the most handsome professor on campus who also happens to be the most private as well.

“If I didn’t see him sitting in that van with my own eyes I would straight up think you’re lying, but I saw his tattooed hand over the windshield,” Nat gasps, processing the story.

“I know, I still feel like it didn’t happen, but it did.”

“And what is he like around his friends? What are his friends like?” Eden questions, hugging her knees to her chest.

“He is pretty much just like in lecture, just jokes a little more and he has a looser vocab. His friends are hilarious, I really got along with Sarah.”

“I know you still think it won’t happen, but I actually think you have a shot at him, Y/N,” Eden points it out and you just chuckle.

“Why, because he saved me from my douche ex?”

“No, because he let you stay for the night with him and his friends. This is literally the first ever time a student hung out with him.”

“It’s not that big of a deal, Harry is a reserved and private person—“

“Harry?!” they gasp at the same time.

“You are now just casually calling him Harry?” Nat asks with ogling eyes.

“Well, yes, he asked me to, because it felt weird that I was calling him Professor Styles with his friends around.”

“Okay, I’m giving it… let’s say, he seems to be moving pretty slow, but y’all will be fucking in about six months,” Nat bluntly tells you and it makes you laugh.

“Oh, sure, whatever. I’m gonna shower and head to bed, you two don’t get too crazy with your fairytales,” you wave at them before disappearing in the bathroom.

The rest of the weekend goes by uneventfully, outside of the pathetic attempt from Victor to get you to talk to him, but you’ve had enough of him for a life so you finally block his number and hope you won’t ever see him again.

Both you and Eden oversleep on Monday morning, skipping your early morning lecture and already being late for Harry’s class as well, so you barely make it to Harry’s class in time, just sprinting up the rows, flopping down to your usual seats when Harry starts the lecture. It all goes as usual as if nothing really happened during the weekend, Harry doesn’t seem to be bothered by it at all. Glancing over at his desk you spot the book he promised you and you can’t hold your smile back. Still grinning, your eyes accidentally meet with his gaze and he stops for a heartbeat as if he is questioning why you are so smiley, but you just shake your head and he carries on before anyone could suspect a thing.

“I gotta run, my favorite TA is having his office hours now and I have a few questions for him. See you at home?” Eden asks once the lecture is over and you are getting ready to leave.

“Sure, have a good day!” you call after her and she sings a ‘you too!’ before running out of the room.

You pack up and head down between the rows, Harry spotting you right away and you go up to him without him even asking you to.

“Hey, sorry we were a little late to class this morning,” you tell him and he just shakes his head kindly.

“No worries. How… is your arm?” He furrows his eyebrows, his gaze wandering down to your forearm where Victor grabbed you on Saturday.

“Oh, it’s fine. I just have a little bruise,” you shrug, because it really isn’t that big deal, but you can tell Harry is still outraged by what happened.

“M’sorry about that.”

“It’s fine. Would be worse if you weren’t there,” you smile at him kindly and he nods to himself before turning to his desk.

“I, uhh, I brought the book we talked about,” he shyly says grabbing it from the desk. As people are exiting the room you can feel the glares on yourself, most of them are probably trying to figure out why Harry is talking to you for so long, but you don’t pay much attention to them as you take the book he hands you.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to pay for it?”

“No need, keep it, it’s yours,” he shakes his head with a small smile.

“Thank you then.” You slide the book into your bag before looking back up at him. “Well, I’ll see you on Wednesday, professor,” you smile warmly before heading out.

“See you!” he calls after you before you close the door behind you.

The week carries on as usual, you are working on papers that needs to be turned in before the fall break so you spend some extra time at the library, using every bit of free time you have so you finish everything on time.

Things go back to kind of normal with Harry, he greets you in the mornings when you walk into the lecture hall and other than the warm smile he occasionally gives you, nothing has changed.

Friday however brings a surprise, but not from Harry. You’re sitting at work in the afternoon, typing away on your computer, filling in some sheets when you get a notification on your phone from Instagram.

Sarah Jones is now following you!

You tap on her profile but see that it’s private so without a second thought you request following. Luckily, she approves you only a few seconds later and you gain access to her posts, quite a few of them featuring Harry on them.

Photos of birthdays, weekend getaways, band practices and performances, Harry makes a lot of appearances on her feed and you find yourself scrolling all the way down until you reach the first few posts from 2016. Just as you are about to leave her profile you get a message from her.

Sarah: Hey Y/N! Charlotte and I’ve been talking about you recently, loved having you with us last Saturday! Want to grab a drink with the two of us this weekend?

Y/N: Would love to, but I’m not sure Harry would like the idea…

Sarah: He won’t be there and besides, who is he to tell you who you can and can’t hang out with?

She is right. You enjoyed spending time with them as well and Harry has little to no word in if you want to meet up with his friends or not. This invitation has no connection to him being your professor.

Y/N: Alright, I’m down!

 This is how your friendship with Sarah and Charlotte starts. You meet up with them on Saturday and have an amazing time, they are definitely fun people to spend time with and though at first you feel hesitant to get closer to them, you soon forget about your doubts and just enjoy your time with them.

Your little girls night goes so well that they invite you out for dinner on Wednesday with Mitch joining the little trio. You learn that he is a quiet but hilarious guy, he and Sarah make a great couple, you think.

“We have a gig this Saturday at Green Light, want to come?” Charlotte asks at the end of the dinner.

“Okay, I really don’t think Harry would be a fan of that idea,” you point out, feeling like it’s surely over the lines. He still doesn’t know about you meeting some of his friends without him and you’re not sure how he would react if he did.

“Harry can fuck off, not everything is about him. We are inviting you as our friends, he just happens to be in the band as well,” Sarah rolls her eyes, clearly not as bothered by the situation as you are.

“I just don’t want to make him uncomfortable.”

“He is a big boy, he’ll get himself over it, don’t worry. So, are you coming?”

“I guess, alright,” you nod with a soft chuckle.

 Next week you contemplate telling Harry that Sarah invited you out for their gig, but at last you decide against it, something is telling you he would try to talk you down and now you’re pretty hyped to see them perform. So you keep quiet and just brace yourself for the worst when Saturday comes.

You don’t overdress for the occasion, decide to wear some light washed mom jeans and a simple sweater tucked into it, a casual look for a night out.

Even when you’re on your way to the place you are having second guesses whether it’s a good idea or not, but you tell yourself it’s not that big of a deal and if Harry flips, you’ll just tell him you came for Sarah and Charlotte.

As you get off the bus and walk towards the place, you immediately spot the little group of three next to Harry’s minivan, Sarah waving in your way as you become visible in the streetlights.

“There she is!” she beams happily and you just chuckle at her.

Harry is standing with his back facing your way but seeing Sarah’s reaction he turns around and you swear for a moment you think he is about to faint when he spots you.

“Hey everyone,” you smile as Sarah pulls you into a hug and Charlotte does the same.

“Hey, if it isn’t our little trouble seeker!” Adam teases you and you just roll your eyes at him before shyly glancing at Harry who is standing on your left, awfully quiet and deep in his thoughts since your arrival. He feels your eyes on him and his gaze meets yours and just by one look you can tell he is pissed.

Just as you thought.

The group chats a little longer outside before Adam suggests they head inside and get ready for their start and you are just about to follow them, but Harry keeps you back.

“Y/N, can we have a word?”

Staying back you nod, hiding your hands in your coat’s pockets as you look at him, lips curled into your mouth.

“What are you doing here?” he questions, eyebrows knitted together and he looks so damn intimidating, the neon lights from the front of the building tinting part of his face green, but you think red would suit him better with this look.

“I… came to see the band playing, what do you mean?”

“Is this your sneaky way of trying to come after me? Because I thought we had a very clear discussion about my thoughts regarding situations like this and you seemed to understand it.”

He comes off way angrier than you think he should be. Yes, it might be uncomfortable for him to see you here, but the tone he just hit is way too harsh for your liking and professor or not, you are not letting anyone talk to you like that when it’s completely not relevant.

“Okay, calm down. First of all, I was invited here.”

“By who?” he spats.

“Sarah and Charlotte, we met last weekend and had dinner this week as well. Had a great time and they asked me to come tonight as well, so get off of your high horse, I’m not here for you.” You can see the change on his face as the information sinks in and he realizes he accused you wrongly, but you’re not quite done with him. “But if I was here to see you, why does that bother you so much? You can’t avoid meeting students every minute when you’re off-campus. If I came here because of you, it shouldn’t affect you this much if you weren’t worried about something else than me just being here,” you point out and he furrows his eyebrows at you. “If I didn’t know better I would think you’re afraid to be around me because you actually like me, huh!” you tell him with an innocent yet suggesting look. His eyes widen and the confidence in himself quickly vanishes from him, replaced by anxiety and nervous looks as he realizes the meaning behind your words.

“I-I, that’s not—I’m not—“

“Take a breath before you pass out, Harry,” you sigh, dropping the hard act. “I didn’t come here for you and if you want to know I actually thought a lot about canceling because of you. But I genuinely like spending time with Sarah and Charlotte so I’m here as their friend.”

Harry stares back at you, completely defeated, regret filling his green eyes. You feel a little guilty for snapping so hard at him, after all you do understand his point of view, but you genuinely don’t think it’s as big of a deal as he makes it to be.

“I-I’m…”

“It’s fine, okay? Let’s just… move past it, alright?” you suggest and he nods as the two of you head inside, joining the rest of the group.

You stay behind while they are waiting for their time to perform, keeping some distance from Harry so he can’t accuse you again, but you occasionally look his way, catching him already looking at you, but you just can’t tell what could be possibly going on in his head. When it’s time for them to go on stage, you go out to the actual bar area and sit by the counter, not too much at the front but close enough to see everything that happens on the stage.

When they start playing you can’t take your eyes off Harry. His energy behind the microphone just knocks you off the stool and you watch him completely mesmerized as if he has put a spell on you. It feels like he turns into an entirely different person on stage, nothing like the man you see at lectures every Monday and Wednesday. He sings perfectly on key, putting some extra charm into the songs with his little additional tunes whenever he is not singing a line.

But what makes it absolutely impossible to look away from him is because he keeps staring at you, eyes locking with yours for way too long every time he catches your gaze. You try to ignore it, but it’s quite hard when his eyes are basically burning into you, it leaves you breathless.

Once the concert is over you order yourself two tequila shots quickly, because something is telling you that you’ll need the boosting if you want to face Harry after his little performance.

But for your surprise, when you join the band again and get near him, nothing really happens. It seems like Harry has come to peace with your presence in his little group of friends and he actually treats you like you’re part of the circle.

The six of you occupy a table at the back of the bar to spend there the rest of the evening and it’s all good, it seems. A harmless night out with a bunch of friends, nothing extra. Harry actually strikes up conversations with you involved and you feel like you’ve overcome a banter finally.

“Do you need a ride home?” Harry asks at the end of the night when everyone is about to head home.

“Only if it’s fine by you.”

“Wouldn’t offer it if it wasn’t,” he smiles shortly before the two of you say goodbye to the rest of the group and head to his van that was previously loaded with their stuff.

The ride back to your place is now much shorter, it takes less than ten minutes to arrive and you are just about to say goodbye when he speaks up.

“I want to apologize for the way I reacted to your arrival earlier tonight. It was… unnecessary.”

“It’s fine, I’m sorry for what I said after that too.”

“You shouldn’t be,” he shakes his head, staring down at his hands in his lap.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that you shouldn’t be sorry for saying something that’s true.”

It feels like all air is knocked out of you as his words process and you stare at him with parted lips and raised eyebrows. When he finally looks up at you, he looks so lost and tortured, you feel the urge to hug him, but you stay still as he continues talking.

“I got mad because I do like you and seeing you outside of school is very… confusing for me. And this is why I’m gonna be very straightforward with you now. I can tell Sarah and Charlotte like you a lot and they are stubborn, they won’t see the situation from my point of view and I’m no one to tell you if you can hang out with us or not. But what I can most certainly tell you is that nothing will happen between us. I’m very serious about this, Y/N. You are very much welcomed to spend more time with us, but I want you to know that it won’t go further than this.”

For a couple of moments you’re only able to stare back at him, blinking completely frozen at his sudden confession. You could tell tonight has been a turning point of some kind, but you were not expecting this speech from him at all and now you are at a complete loss of words. It takes some time before you actually find your voice.

“Okay,” is all you can breathe out, nothing more, but it’s pretty much all you have to tell him. You won’t go against his will and force him to do something he doesn’t want. He deserves the respect.

He nods shortly, seemingly still very torn about the situation and you figure it’s better if you just leave now.

“Thank you for the ride,” you quietly tell him opening the door. “Good night.”

“Good night, Y/N,” you hear him before you shut the door and walk into your building, feeling like you’ve been just hit by a pile of bricks.

Unlike the last time when Harry brought you home, Nat and Eden are not waiting for you in the living room. Nat is probably already asleep and Eden went out for a date earlier and she hasn’t been back. You don’t bother to turn the lights on as you walk inside, just kick your boots off and hang your coat before collapsing onto the couch, just staring into the darkness, Harry’s words repeating in your head again and again.

“… I do like you and seeing you outside of school is very confusing for me.”

“… nothing will happen between us. I’m very serious about this, Y/N.”

“… but I want you to know that it won’t go further than this.”

Harry, your professor, The Harry Styles admitted that he likes you but also told you pretty forward that nothing is ever going to happen between the two of you. It still feels like a fever dream and you’re not sure how you are feeling about it just yet. Hanging out with him was already quite overwhelming, but you were not expecting this confession from him at all.

What are you supposed to do with this information? If he is so set on not taking any further steps, why did he even share it with you? He could have just easily keep his thoughts and feelings to himself and get away with it without you ever figuring it out. It doesn’t make sense.

For the first time in your life, something Harry Styles said doesn’t make sense. That’s new.

Following Harry’s confession you truly have no idea what to do, so you just go with the flow. He seemingly stays the same when it comes to you, friendly, but still keeping his distance. Nothing changes in the lecture hall, he just occasionally asks if you’re alright and you are guessing he only wants to know if you are having any trouble with Victor, but you haven’t even heard from him since you’ve blocked his number and you hope it’s going to stay like that.

You meet up with him and the band a few times outside of school and it’s not necessarily awkward, but you can tell he is keeping his distance from you, he never sits next to you or has one-on-one conversations with you, only if it’s necessary. The only time he dares to be alone with you is when he sometimes offers you to drive you home. You usually say no at first, but he insists, so you end up sitting in silence in the car until you arrive home, say goodbye and end of story.

No one in school even suspects that you’ve made your way into Harry’s group of friends, only Nat and Eden knows about it but they swore to keep it a secret, but you didn’t tell them about Harry’s confession. Whatever it is that’s happening between you and Harry, you would never put him into a situation he is trying to avoid so badly. You sit in his classes like everyone else, but while all the other girls are drooling over him, trying to get just slightly closer to him in any way possible, you sit in silence and think about the precious times when you get to see him outside of school.

Even with him being so distant towards you, you can’t help but slowly start falling for him. He doesn’t have to talk to you or be direct to you, it’s enough that you see him as himself, you see him with his friends, how he acts whenever he is not teaching, standing on the podium. And he is an amazing person, there’s no doubt about that.

The semester is gradually moving forward, once you get back from fall break, you basically move into the library, studying for your exams and finishing up all your papers. December arrives pretty fast and before you realize, the whole town is decorated with lights and Christmas trees everywhere, the shops are trying to lure customers in with all the sales and the Christmas shopping officially starts.

One weekend, when there’s only two weeks left of school before everyone heads home for the holidays, you and Nat go for a shopping trip, trying to buy every gift in time so you don’t have to worry about that at least last minute.

Wandering around the mall you naturally take a trip to the bookstore, always ready to buy something new to read. Nat dives into the cooking books wanting to get one for her mother while you’re just aimlessly looking through the shelves. As your eyes are running through the titles in the psychology department, you stop at one particular book, pulling it off the shelf as you can’t help but smile to yourself.

The secrets of Classical Conditioning.

You flip through the pages and though it doesn’t seem to be a groundbreaking work, it’s just explaining Pavlov’s experiment and further uses of it, you still decide to buy it.

That evening you sit at your desk, the book open in front of you, a pen next to it as you try to think of something to write into it. At first you just wanted to give it to Harry as it is, but you figured it would be a nice gesture to write a few words into it he could always read when he opens the book. After some consideration, you finally grab the pen and start writing.

-

Dear Harry,

I will always think of you whenever I hear of Mr. Ivan Petrovics Pavlov or Classical Conditioning. Thank you for another amazing semester and I’m happy I got to see you without standing on a podium. You are an amazing man, never change.

Happy holidays,

Y/N

-

Last week of school, you go to the Wednesday lecture, the last one of the semester with the book sitting in your bag. All through the 90 minutes class as Harry is having an open discussion about the lecture with the students, you keep debating whether you should give him the book or not. When the lecture is over and Harry wishes everyone happy holidays, you grab it from your bag and holding it to your chest you wait until there’s only a few people in the room. Eden has already left to hand in a paper so you walk down the rows on your own, eyes on the man behind his desk who is now packing up his papers and notes, getting ready to leave.

“Harry?” you faintly speak his name, grabbing his attention as he looks up at you from behind the desk. You glance down at the book in your hands and before you could change your mind, you place it down in front of him. “This is… for you.”

His gaze wanders down to the book, then back at you as he stares at you in awe, obviously surprised by the gesture.

“What’s this for?”

“Christmas gift?” you answer unsurely with a nervous chuckle. “I just saw it at the store and… thought of you.”

“Y/N, I can’t—“

“Yes you can and you will,” you roll your eyes at him, tired of hearing all these negations from him. He can’t, he won’t, he shouldn’t… for once, he definitely will if it’s on you. “Take it as my payment for the book you gave me.”

His eyes soften at you before he looks down at the book again, reading the title before he chuckles to himself.

“Thank you, Y/N,” he then finally says, accepting that you won’t let him return the gift under any circumstances.

“Have a nice Christmas, Harry,” you smile at him shyly, hands holding onto the strap of your bag as you start walking away.

“You too,” he faintly says and turning around you start walking, but then he stops you. “Y/N, wait!”

You stop in your track and face him curiously. He seems hesitant, stepping away from the desk, walking closer to you but still keeping some distance between the two of you.

“Do you… have plans for New Year’s Eve?”

“I, uhh—No, not yet.”

“If you happen to be back in town by then… Sarah is having this little get together. I have a feeling she already invited you, but if you said no because of me, I want you to know that it’s fine by me. Would be nice if you could come.”

He is right, Sarah did invite you over, but you kindly declined thinking Harry wouldn’t appreciate if you spent it with them. You wanted to give him a breather, have a night with his friends without having to avoid you all the time, but it seems like the situation has changed for him.

“You don’t have to invite me just because I gave you a gift, Harry.”

“It’s not about that,” he shakes his head softly. “I can tell you are getting along well with Sarah and all the others. I want you to know that I would never stand in the way and you are very much welcomed at any and all events.”

He seems and sounds genuine, you don’t see any sign of him just saying it because Sarah asked him to or something. No, this definitely came from him.

“Okay, I’ll… think about it,” you tell him with a warm smile. “See you around,” you wave at him before walking out of the room.

You don’t get to see his reaction to the words you wrote into the book and for a while, you’re not even sure he saw it. Maybe he took it home and put it on his shelf without even having a look into it, but two days later, when you’re already packing, getting ready to go home for Christmas, you get a notification that at first confuses you.

Breakfast is now following you!

You open Instagram with furrowed eyebrows as you go to the profile that just followed you. It’s a small account and private, of course and you almost close it thinking it’s just someone random when you see that it’s followed by both Sarah and Charlotte.

Could this be Harry’s profile?

The username is colazione8, it doesn’t give away much but now that you are thinking about it, it’s perfect if he wanted to stay unnoticed by his students that surely can use Instagram way better than him.

You tap on the follow request button and anxiously wait for an approval, hoping that the person behind the account is still online. You wait and wait, slowly losing hope but then the notification finally arrives. Your request has been approved.

You tap on the profile vigorously and three pictures appear in front of you. One is a picture of some random building, the first ever posted is a plate of nicely served breakfast of some sort and then there’s one that features the person you were desperately hoping to see.

It’s a picture of Harry sitting at a big dining table, a glass of wine in front of him as he is squinting his eyes towards the camera. You zoom into the picture just to make sure it’s him, but his features are clearer than daylight, it really is Harry that just followed you.

You’re still stalking his very private and not too eventful profile when you get a message from him, making your heart skip a beat.

Harry: Hey! Just wanted to thank you again for the gift, it’s really thoughtful. Read what you wrote in it… thank you, Y/N.

Y/N: I meant every word. Thank you for everything you did this semester!

It takes a few minutes for a response to arrive from him.

Harry: Are you already on your way home?

Y/N: Not yet, leaving tomorrow morning.

Harry: If I drop by your place in 20, can you come down for a sec?

Y/N: Sure!

Though your response seemed totally cool, you started panicking right away. What does this mean? Why is he coming here? Are you in trouble? You couldn’t be, you didn’t do anything wrong.

You quickly change out of your worn-out sweats and stained shirt, putting on a pair of jeans and a black hoodie, not wanting to see him looking like a total wreck. You sit on your bed, anxiously checking your phone every ten seconds to see if he has messaged you and those twenty minutes never seem to pass.

Then your phone finally chimes again.

Harry: I’m here.

Y/N: Be there in a sec.

You jump into a pair of trainers and grabbing your keys from the little sidetable you have in the hallway you storm out of the apartment, running down the stairs. As you walk out you stop in your track for a second, for some reason you were expecting the minivan, but this time, it’s a black Range Rover that’s parked in front of your building and Harry emerges from it the moment you step outside.

“Hey!” he smiles at you, shutting the door before he jogs around and you notice the little gift bag in his hands.

“Harry, is this what I think it is? Because you shouldn’t have, really,” you tell him right away as he stands in front of you, glancing down at the little bag in his hands.

“What? So you are allowed to give me a gift, but I’m not allowed to do the same?” he asks with a cheeky smile.

“But you already gave me one!”

“That wasn’t a real gift, so no,” he shakes his head, too stubborn to let it go. So instead, he nervously glances down at the little bag before handing it to you. “Here. Happy Christmas. But you can only open it when I’m gone, alright?”

“Why?”

“Just… please,” he breathes out and you not, keeping your curious hands to yourself.

“Alright. Well, thank you, Harry.”

“Sure. Um, have a great winter break and… I’ll see you around,” he smiles, walking around the car back to the side of the driving seat.

“You too, Harry. See you!”

You see him drive away as you walk back into the building, basically running up the stairs to your apartment, dying to see what’s in the little bag. Once you are locked in the safe haven of your room, you throw yourself to the bed and reach into the bag, finding a small box. One that’s usually used for jewelry. You pull it out with shaky fingers and take a deep breath before opening it.

Inside sits the cutest little silver ring you’ve literally ever seen. It’s thin and very detailed, tiny little strawberries lining next to each other and that’s the whole ring. Just the little strawberries, but it’s still the cutest you’ve ever seen. You put it on and it fits perfectly on your ring finger, holding up your hand you take a good look at how it sits on your finger. You’re in love with it.

Rolling to your back on the bed you stare up at the ceiling with a heavy heart aching for a man you know will never be yours, but you just can’t help it. The heart wants what it wants, right?

Reaching for your phone you type him a quick message

Y/N: Harry, thank you so much! It’s beautiful! But you shouldn’t have bought me anything!

Harry: I’m glad you like it :)

Y/N: I love it.

He doesn’t respond, just likes your message.

Christmas is always the same, especially because your family just never had those juicy dramas that could ruin any family events. Holidays have always been quiet and loving, pretty predictable. It’s good to be home again and spend quality time with your loved one, though your mind keeps wandering to a particular someone.

Sarah mentioned that Harry has traveled home to his mom and sister and from time to time you catch yourself thinking about what he could be possibly doing at the moment.

The only interaction between the two of you is when you post a photo with your sister and brother at Christmas dinner and he likes the photo, but nothing more. He doesn’t post or add to his story so you are left with your own elaborate fantasies of what he could possiblybe doing at home.

Sarah convinces you to spend the New Year’s Eve at hers and you are accepting the invitation a lot easier now that Harry has told you he is fine with you joining.

Just one day before the 31st you get back to your apartment and spend the second to last night of the year spiraling about the whole situation with Harry. Where are you two standing as of right now? Was his gift a gesture with a deeper meaning behind it?

You can’t step over the fact that you are not his student anymore. He has officially graded you and you’ve received your credits for his class, the ties are off, but he situation might still be risky and you doubt Harry is willing to change his mind about what he told you earlier. He made it clear that nothing will ever happen between the two of you, however you can’t help but feel a little hopeful that the new semester might bring a change into that.

After two hours spent in front of your closet and at least three mental breakdowns you finally decide to wear a black turtleneck dress which is just the perfect mixture of modest and sexy at the same time. You feel anxious to see Harry again, not sure how to act around him following your little gift exchange. There’s a chance he’ll just shut himself off once again and avoid you all night, you can’t tell.

Sarah’s place is already buzzing by the time you arrive, several guests are lounging in the living room and kitchen, some soft music is playing and it appears that everyone is enjoying the evening so far, judging from the laughter you hear from time to time.

“I’m so glad you came!” Sarah envelopes in a tight hug when you arrive.

“Thank you for inviting me. Here, brought some snacks,” you hand her the grocery bag you picked up on your way, not wanting to arrive empty-handed.

“Oh, you are an angel, some on in, make yourself home, take whatever you want to eat or drink!” she gestures around before bringing the bag into the kitchen.

The cozy home is already filled with a lot of people you don’t know, but you also spot Charlotte and Mitch right away so you take the safe spot in their little circle. You try your best to stay present in the conversation but you keep glancing around, looking for one particular person.

And then you finally see him. Harry emerges from the little hallway that leads to the bedroom and bathroom with Adam, seemingly deep in conversation as he nurses a beer in his hand. His checkered slacks and vintage printed t-shirt makes him appear so casual, if you didn’t know him you wouldn’t even guess that he is actually a professor.

Harry laughs at something Adam just told him and his eyes glide around the room until they find you standing near the kitchen. He stops in his track, gaze running down your figure before it returns to your eyes and he seems to be in awe, like he doesn’t entirely believe it’s you he is seeing even though he knew you’d be coming. There’s nothing you want more than to run across the room and throw yourself into his arms. You spent way too much time thinking about him during Christmas and seeing him in the flesh now is a mixture of feelings you can’t really describe just now.

Neither of you leaves the conversation you are in the middle, but you keep glancing towards each other. You’re nervously moving the strawberry ring around your finger, feeling his burning gaze on your figure all the time. You haven’t taken it down since he has given it to you, it partially made it harder for you to stop thinking about him, because the jewelry was quite a loud reminder every time you glanced down at your hands.

Two drinks later your sister calls you, as always she wants to say happy new year before the lines get hectic at midnight, so you move out to the small balcony facing the street as you talk to your sister. The spicy night air feels amazing on your heated up skin, the turtleneck dress was a good choice, but it’s definitely getting hotter with each drink, especially with Harry’s lingering eyes as well. When you end the call you decide to stay outside a little longer, take a few moments to yourself.

You jump a little when you hear the sliding door open and you’re surprised to see Harry walk out.

“Hey, thought you might need this,” he smiles softly, holding a blanket in his hands.

“Oh, thank you,” you mumble and let him wrap it around your shoulders. It provides just enough heat that your lips are not shaking anymore from the cold.

“What are you doing out here alone? Not enjoying the evening?”

“I am, I was just on the phone with my sister.”

“She’s older than you, right?” he asks and you tilt your head a little looking at him.

“How do you know that?”

“I, uhh… You have a lot of pictures with her on your Instagram,” he admits with a nervous chuckle.

“Have you been stalking my profile?” you tease him, but he clearly takes it way more serious than you intended it to be.

“No, I swear it’s not like that, I just—“ he stammers but you cut him off placing a hand on his arms that are crossed over his chest.

“Harry, I was just teasing you. It’s fine,” you assure him, giving him a gentle squeeze before you are about to pull your hand back, but his hold stops you. He takes your hand in his, gently bringing it closer to his face as he examines the ring sitting on your finger.

“You’re wearing it,” he breathes out, a small cloud emitting from his pink lips as his thumb softly runs over the ring.

“Of course. I told you I love it.”

You can’t ignore the shiver that runs down your spine at the feeling of his warm palm against yours, his thumb delicately running over not just the ring, but down your finger as well before he lets go of your hand. You already miss his touch.

“So, how was Christmas?” he asks clearing his throat.

“Good, nothing extra. What about yours?”

“Same, went home to the family.”

“Do you often visit them?”

“Not as often as I would want to, but I’m trying to go every couple of months.” Harry turns towards the street, eyes running along the not too busy road that stretches past Sarah’s building. His hand comes up to the railing, fingers slightly drumming on it. “How come you didn’t bring anyone tonight?”

“Well, my roommates are still home and I also didn’t think you’d like the idea to have another student of yours around.”

“Right, yeah,” he nods, but you can tell something else is still on his mind. “So… no boyfriend to bring?”

You give him a puzzled look. Is this his way of asking if you are seeing anyone at the moment? Because if it is, it’s kind of ridiculous.

“No, not really. I guess you can say I’m not looking for one actively.”

“How come?” he asks with raised eyebrows, his body turning towards you as he leans against the railing. You give him a ‘really?’ look. You think about getting a little sassy and teasing with him, but then decide to just be straightforward instead.

“Because I’m kind of into my Methodology of Cultural Anthropology professor.”

Harry’s lips part as his eyes pierce into yours and for a moment you really think that he is about to flip, tell me how dare you say such thing to him and curse you out, but a second passes and his gaze softens as he lets out a shaky breath.

“Y/N…”

“What? I just answered your question,” you innocently shrug, looking away from him. Despite this long and weird game the two of have been playing these past months, this is the first time you openly admitted that you have a thing for him.

“You know how complicated it is and I told you that nothing can happen.” He shakes his head in defeat, a hint of disappointment in his tone, but it just grinds your gears.

“What, so you can ask about my dating life but I can’t say that I’m into you? How is that fair?”

“That’s not the same.”

“Well I think it is. Both are highly inappropriate to bring up in our situation, don’t you think? Yet you’re trying to put all the blame on me.”

“Alright, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked. Let’s just… forget about it. I really don’t want to fight with you.”

“Because you’re afraid I might actually win?” you sassily reply, crossing your arms on your chest.

“I’m just trying to do the right thing, okay? Would you… let me?”

“If you haven’t realized it yet, I’m trying really hard to stay in my lane, but you’re not making it any easier.”

“I’m trying too, okay?” he growls, clearly losing his calmness at this point. “I’m really fucking trying, Y/N, but it’s the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do!”

“You’re the one making it hard!”

“It’s not my fucking fault I can’t stop thinking about you!”

“Well it’s not my fault either!” you snap at him, both of you raising your voice, the rest of the party oblivious about the screaming match the two of you are having on the balcony. “If you’re so set on not letting anything happen, why do you come to me and act the opposite?”

“The opposite?!”

“Yes! It’s not quite appropriate to gift your student with a ring or ask them about their dating life. Or is it all new information to you?”

“You started with the gifting!”

“So what? You could have just left it there, but you didn’t. It’s not that it didn’t make me happy, but don’t try to put all the blame on me for saying something when you’re already crossing the lines.”

Harry stares at you with a hard look and you’d pay great amounts to actually read his thoughts at this moment. His jaw clenches as he exhales sharply, eyes turning away from you, as if he couldn’t even bear to look at you.

“Make up your fucking mind,” you growl under your breath as you push your way past him and walk inside before he could get a word out.

For a well-respected, educated and smart man, Harry can act pretty fucking stupid, you think. He is not being fair and you will not apologize for anything you’ve said. If he doesn’t want anything to do with you, he needs to stay in his lane and not dance on the line, poking the sleeping lion. He doesn’t get to fuck around and then put all the blame on you, that’s just not how it works and he needs to learn that.

In the last hour that’s left until midnight you mingle with the guests and try to keep your thoughts of Harry at bay, though it’s quite the challenge since he lingers around you, keeping his eyes on you all the time, as if he is trying to piss you off or something, but you’re determined to be a mature adult and keep your composure.

You’re getting tired of this game and you’re not sure anymore if you are willing to wait around until Harry makes his mind up. Not when he doesn’t keep his own rules at least.

“Come on,” you mumble to yourself as you’re trying to open up a new bottle of wine, but the screw just wouldn’t move, no matter what you do. A hand reaches forward and wraps around the neck of the bottle, interrupting your pathetic misery.

“Let me help you.”

You let Harry take the bottle, biting into your bottom lip as you turn around and watch him easily open the bottle you’ve been fighting with the past ten minutes, he grabs your empty glass from the counter and fills it.

“Thank you,” you mumble when he hands it back and you take a sip right away. He places the bottle to the counter, fingers strumming on the surface before he takes a deep breath and speaks up.

“Y/N, I’m sorry.”

“For what exactly?”

“For the way I acted. You were totally right, I called you out for things that I did myself too, that was unfair of me.” He clears his throat, leaning against the counter with his back side as he crosses his arms on his chest. It brings out how toned his arms really are and you give yourself half a second to drool over that before you take another sip from your drink, forcing yourself to keep your thoughts under control.

“Thanks for acknowledging it,” you mumble, not sure what to say exactly. The two of you stand like that in silence, eyes roaming the guests, something clearly weighing down on both of you, but it’s hard to name and address it.

You can tell he is overthinking, the gears are almost visible, turning in that smart head of his, but you don’t want him to go into depths he shouldn’t. He really is making a bigger deal out of the situation that it already is, but it’s going to wreck him.

“Okay, I want to know, what was the worst way someone tried to flirt with you?”

Harry turns to you with a puzzled look, but you just sip on your wine, waiting for his answer.

“Um, I don’t… really keep track of it.”

“Oh come on,” you give him a look. “I know you have a story. I wanna hear it!”

Your eyes meet and he is searching in yours, trying to figure out what’s the sudden change in your mood when an hour ago you were ready to throw him off the balcony. Truth is you are just frustrated, because the situation feels so impossible. You never had to deal with such an amazing man, knowing he is into you as well, but you just can’t have him. The struggle is hard for the both of you but you can’t blame him entirely. Hating on him because he is not willing to take a risk that could easily ruin his entire life but at least his academic career is just not fair and you won’t put him through that.

Harry sees where you’re coming from and he shoots you a thankful smile before it turns into a smirk as he looks down at his hands.

“Professor Davids from the department of linguistics asked me to be her date for her ex-husband’s wedding.”

“What?” you gasp with wide eyes. “For real?”

“Yeah,” he chuckles. “She started swinging by my office all the time, trying to chat me up and then one day she asked if I wanted to go with her, that we would be staying at this nice hotel and all… she really thought it was a good idea.”

“That’s very awkward,” you laugh, entertained by the thought that Professor Davids would go so low when it came to dating. “I assume, you declined the invitation.”

“Faster than ever,” he chuckles making you laugh even louder. “Okay, your turn.”

“What?”

“I told you an awkward story, now it’s your turn.”

“Um, the worst was probably a promposal I got.”

“A promposal?” he asks with a puzzled look, his forehead creasing as he pulls his eyebrows together.

“Yeah, when they ask you out to go to prom.” “Oh, yeah. Didn’t know it had a specific name.”

“Because you are way too British,” you tease him and he just gives you a narrow-eyed look, but you can see the smirk hiding on his lips. “Well, anyway, I was dating a guy senior year, but this other one was convinced he could win me over and take me to prom. He brought a fucking mariachi band to school and gave me a serenade in the middle of the hallway while my boyfriend was standing next to me. He asked me to prom so confidently at the end of the song, like he actually had a shot but it was so painfully awkward,” you laugh at the memory shaking your head and Harry joins, finding it quite entertaining.

“He really did that to himself.”

“He did, I felt bad a little, but what was I supposed to do?”

You slip into telling more and more awkward stories, staying in the kitchen you create a little bubble, the rest of the guests don’t seem to exist as you enjoy yourself with Harry. This is the most carefree and loosest you’ve ever seen him around you and you quite like this version of him. So easy to talk to and even funnier than his usual self.

A little before midnight Sarah runs around with champagne, filling everyone’s glass, getting ready for the countdown. You and Harry join Charlotte, Adam and his wife in the corner of the living room as everyone is slowly getting excited for the last moments of the year.

Looking around you see a lot of couples, holding hands, hugging, clearly planning to snog the moment the clock hits midnight and when you glance at Harry on your right you’re convinced he is thinking about the same thing.

You’re not naïve, you don’t think he is going to kiss you, but you still allow yourself to play with the thought just a little. He is standing so close to you, just the tiniest move and you’d be touching him, skin to skin again, feel him under your—

The thought is abruptly interrupted when you feel his warm palm wrap around your hand, your whole body freezing and for a split second you think it’s just an accident, that his touch will disappear before you could even blink, but it stays there. Harry maneuvers his fingers until they are laced together with yours and he keeps a firm hold of your hand, hanging between the two of you, staying hidden because you’re standing close to each other. Your breath catches in your throat and you’re afraid if you dare to move he’ll let go of your hand.

Another version of yourself would laugh hysterically at how worked up you are right now just because he is holding your hand, but the you that’s actually in the moment is about to burst just by this small touch. You have absolutely no idea what it means or why he chose to do it, but you don’t really care about it. You just want to absorb all the heat you feel coming from him where his palm meets yours, fingers braided together tightly, as if he is trying to keep you next to him, like he thinks you are about to disappear and it’s way of anchoring you to him, but truth is you don’t want to go anywhere.

“One minute, everyone!” Sarah sings in excitement as she turns on the TV and puts a huge clock on the screen that’s counting the seconds as well. You shyly glance to the side, finding Harry standing motionless next to you and when he notices you looking, his eyes meet yours. He looks terrified, like a lost little boy and you can’t tell if he is afraid of your reaction or because of what his actions might bring on him. But you want him to know that you are completely okay with where it’s heading.

“Ten! Nine! Eight!” The countdown begins and you inch closer to Harry so you’re pressed against his side, his body heat radiating into your skin even through the layers of clothes you two are wearing.

Harry leans down the moment you lift your head, his face is so close, it wouldn’t take much for you to finally kiss him, do the one thing you haven’t stopped thinking about for months.

“Y/N…” he breathes out and it’s a tortured plea, he is begging you to stop him from doing something he might regret, but you are dying for him to finally sin. You want him to give it up already, you have absolutely no desire to be the burden that keeps him in his lane. You need him to cross the line and stay there.

“I’m not stopping you, Harry,” you tell him quietly, the urge to close the distance between the two of you is burning inside you.

“Seven! Six! Five!” the countdown continues, but it all tones out, you can only see, hear and feel Harry.

“We can’t,” he whines, closing his eyes as he exhales shakily.

“We can, we just shouldn’t,” you correct him, his eyes snap open and meet yours again. You can tell he is so close to finally giving in and let his feelings and desires take control and you will not try to stop him.

His face inches the tiniest bit closer and his forehead is almost touching yours now, you can see every curly eyelash that frames his gorgeous green eyes that are now filled with fear and nerves.

“Four! Three! Two! One! Happy New Year!” Everyone screams together as the clock finally hits midnight while you just stare at Harry holding your breath, praying that he is finally ballsy enough to take this step.

“Harry, please,” you beg, not too proud of it, but you just can’t take it any longer. His hand is gripping yours tightly as he closes his eyes again and for a second you think that it’s gonna happen. He is going to give up the act and finally kiss you.

But right when the moment is burning the most… he pulls back and your heart sinks.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, his hand lets go of yours and it feels like your arm is ripped off, tears are welling in your eyes.

“Yeah, me too,” you mumble under your breath, chugging down the champagne before making your way through the living room, determined to leave as soon as possible.

“Y/N, wait, where are you going?” you hear him calling after you, but you don’t stop. You get rid of the empty champagne glass and grab your coat from the rack, storming out of the apartment as if you had somewhere to be.

Tears are streaming down your cheeks as you run down the stairs, almost tripping over your own feet. You hear the other pair of feet running behind you and Harry calling after you, but it’s not stopping you.

You push the front door of the building open, but it’s heavy, so it slows you down just enough that Harry can grab your wrist when you are about to start running down the street.

“Y/N, don’t go, let me explain!”

“No!” you snap at him. “I don’t fucking want to hear your explanation! I’m done, Harry! I’m fucking done! I was trying to be patient and respectful, I didn’t want to make it worse for you and let you do your thing, but you kept dancing back and forth and I can’t keep doing this, so I guess I’m sorry too.”

You’re choking on your own words that echo from the walls, the street is almost entirely empty, the world is still celebrating the new year while you’re at your breaking point. Harry stands in front of you, defeated and panic all over his face as he listens to you.

“I will not sit around and let you play your little games any longer, because you can’t make up your mind whether you want me or not.”

“Y/N I want you more than I’ve ever wanted anything in my life!” he snaps, throwing his hands into the air. “That’s the problem! This shouldn’t be happening, but I can’t fucking stop thinking about you, I can’t stop wanting you!”

“Then do something about it!” you beg through your tears.

“I can’t!”

“Yes you can!” you scream at him. “You can but you probably just don’t want me enough to actually do it! And it’s fine, but—“

You don’t get to finish your rant because Harry firmly grabs your arm, yanks you towards him and with one swift movement, his lips are crashing against yours.

It all happens so fast but your body reacts before your mind could process what’s really happening, fists bunching a handful of his sweater as you pull him against you, his hands flying up to your face, cupping them confidently as he kisses you hard and demandingly.

It’s like a fucking dam that’s been broken, everything you both kept bottled up and under control just breaks loose and it’s a kind of a wild fight for trying to devour each other now that all lines has been crossed an blurred into nothingness.

He is the dominant one, but you do some pushing and pulling on your own as well. You’re forced to take a few steps backwards, back arching at how forcefully he is pushing forward, lips smacking against each other over and over again, his tongue meeting yours, swirling and dancing around with yours, a shameless moan escaping your mouth.

His hands roam down your sides and you jumps when they reach the back of your thighs, legs wrapping around his waist. He keeps you up easily, fingers digging into your flesh where your butt meets your thighs and this angle allows you to be completely pressed up against him and feel every single inch of his body that burns for you.

It’s beyond anything you’ve ever imagined, you’re not sure it’s because of the build-up that led to this point or simply the chemistry you two got, but it blows your mind, making you question how you could go this long without ever kissing him.

“Harry, I want you,” you moan when his lips move down to your jawline, kissing and biting on the soft skin, tasting you wherever he can reach.

“I want you too, Y/N,” he breathes out resting his forehead against yours before kissing you again.

“Take me home then.”

“Are you sure?” he pants as you run your fingers through his hair and tug on his gently, earning a whimper from his perfectly pink and swollen lips. You love this satisfied dew on his face, especially because you know it’s because of you.

“Never been more sure about anything in my life.”

You unwrap your legs from around his waist and return to the ground, but not without him leaning down to kiss you once more before he grabs your hand and starts pulling you down the street. You spot his Rover right away and start sprinting, Harry following you right behind with a carefree laugh.

Settled in your seats he starts driving, but you can’t keep yourself away from him. His hand that’s not on the steering wheel is gripping your thigh as you lean over the console and start kissing his cheek, jawline and the corner of his mouth as one of your hands runs down his chest until it reaches his pants.

“Love, if you move further down we’re gonna crash,” he warns you with a shaky breath. “I drank a little too and I’m already fucking gone from kissing you, if you touch me I’m gonna lose it.”

You giggle, pressing one last kiss to his lips before sitting back in your seat. You need every bit of your patience and self-control to stay modest on the way back to his place. Hands gripping his you bring it up to your lips, kissing his knuckles gently as he speeds down the empty streets. It’s still barely over midnight, everyone is still celebrating, oblivious to how important this moment is to the two of you.

You really thought this would be the end. When he pulled away at midnight all hope was lost for you and it broke your heart to know that he will never choose you over his better judgment.

It’s your first time at Harry’s but you don’t really care to look around as the two of you make your way inside the townhouse, lips already melted together as you stumble through the dark hallway, not wanting to let go of each other. You successfully make it into his bedroom and Harry turns on the bedside lamp while you’re already eagerly getting rid of your coat and shoes. He does the same, clothes start to litter the hardwood flooring hastily, but neither of you is thinking about them. Harry scoops you into his arms once again, kissing your lips passionately as he bunches your dress up at your hips until he can finally grip the end of it and pull it over your head.

“Oh shit!” you giggle, the turtleneck getting stuck on your head for a moment before you’re free from it.

“That big head of yours,” he chuckles kissing your forehead.

“Shut up,” you smack his chest gently, pushing him down to the bed so you can straddle him, knees on his sides as you sit on his lap, lips meeting again.

He throws his hands up when you start pulling his t-shirt up and once the fabric is off of his body, his arms wrap around you, pulling you close to his chest. Your skin meets his and it feels heavenly, only little clothing separating the two of you at this point.

Harry scoots backwards and then throws you to the mattress, getting on top of you without your lips ever parting. His hips are pushed against yours and you can feel everything through the thin material of his slacks. Without even knowing you grind your hips, your core meeting his erection in the movement and he moans uncontrollably at the sensation.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he breathes against your lips and you can’t push your smirk down at his reaction.

“Yeah, fuck me, Harry,” you tease him before your lips get occupied once again.

His hands work fast. He unclasps your bra without you even noticing, the straps falling from your shoulders before he gets rid of it, throwing it across the room as if it did something against him. When his hungry eyes fall down on your naked chest you see the same kind of torture in his eyes that was there when he was fighting with himself before.

“Harry, stop thinking,” you tell him, fingers massaging his scalp as you lace them through his hair. “It’s fine, we’re fine.”

“Are you sure you want to do this?” he questions again and you pull him down for a reassuring kiss.

“One hundred percent. I want this. I want you.”

“Oh God, I want you so bad,” he whines again, lips kissing down your jawline, neck and collarbone before they attack your breasts.

He cups them, licks and bites them, making you a whimpering mess underneath him every time his tongue meets your hot skin. This man will be the death of you. As he moves down your body, his fingers hook into the waistband of your panties and he glances up at your for reassurance once again, you nod eagerly, lifting your hips so he can easily glide the fabric down and off of your body. Harry sits up, eyes burning down on your naked body lying in front of him as he undoes his own pants, pushing them down his long legs until they join the rest on the floor. You push yourself up when his hands move to his boxers, you want to be the one to take them off. He gladly backs his hands off when you reach out and start tugging them down. He kneels on the bed as you pull the fabric down and his erection finally becomes free, making you ache for him immediately. Once the boxers are out of the way completely you want to reach out to touch him, but he stops you, hands wrapping around your wrist before they could reach him.

Your eyes snap up to meet his darkened gaze, questioning why he stopped you.

“Y/N, I… If we do this, there’s no going back,” he breathes out with a pained look. You push yourself up to your knees so you meet his height, hands cupping his cheeks as you pull him into a sweet kiss that he hesitantly but returns.

“I know what you think about us, Harry, but I assure you, that I’m completely fine with it. But if you don’t want it to happen, we can just… lie here. I’m fine with that too. Kissing you was already such a gift for me,” you smile at him, gently pecking his lips.

“I just don’t want you to wake up and regret it. I’m not pushing you, right?”

“If anyone, it’s me pushing you,” you chuckle softly, a small smile tugging on his lips as well. “You didn’t push anything on me, alright? We are both adults and it’s completely fine. We’ll figure out the rest, I just want to focus on you now. Can I do that?”

Harry nods, still looking a little unsure, but you can tell he is starting to settle in his mindset. It’s not just him that worries about the other regretting something. You know how torn up he is about anything that’s about you and though you want him more than anything, you still don’t want to push him into doing something he is not entirely comfortable with.

“Do you want this?” you softly ask, pressing a chaste kiss to the corner of his mouth.

“I do. I’m just—“

“Then it’s all good, Harry. We both want it, nothing else matters for now,” you tell him, wanting nothing else than to finally see him enjoy himself entirely. “Lay down for me,” you tell him, feeling like you taking the lead is a good idea now.

He does as you asked him to, lying down on the mattress, head sinking into his pillow as he blinks up at you, watching you swing a leg over him before settling to sit on his thighs.

“Can I touch you?” you ask, wanting to make sure he feels completely comfortable with you. Pleasing him is your number one priority right now. He nods, lips parting as he watches your hand reach out and wrap around the base of his erected length. He whimpers under your touch, his eyes fall closed when you gently pump him a few times, his cock fits so well in your palms, like pieces of a puzzle.

Leaning down you kiss his fern tattoos on each sides of his hips before placing one to his leaking tip, sliding your hands to the base before you slowly and gradually take him into your mouth.

You’re not planning to make him cum with your mouth, but you’ve been dying to taste him and it’s just as good as you imagined. The way his body reacts to your touch, the noises that leave his kissable lips, this man is completely out of this world and you want to explore every inch of his body.

You bob your head a couple of times, just enough to wet his length and work him up for what’s coming next. When you let him go of your mouth and you move a little up on his body so that his cock can be lined up with your hole, you look at him to see if he is still down to continue. One hand holding his cock, the other one flat on his naked chest, you ask him a question with your eyes that he answers with his hands squeezing your hips.

“I have the implant. Do you want to put on a condom?” you ask him at last.

“I trust you,” he breathes out. “Do you want me to put one on?”

“I want to feel you,” you tell him shaking your head.

“Okay,” he nods so it’s settled.

Leaning down you peck his lips one last time before you push the head inside and then slowly ease yourself down on his throbbing length.

“Oh fuck!”

“Harry, oh my God!” you both moan at the sensation of him finally entering you. You’ve had your fair share of sexual intercourses throughout your life, but none of them felt this good. None of them pleasured you this good so fast and easily, just the feel of him being inside you is making you lose your mind.  

You start off slow, wanting to feel him just right, get used to his size, but as soon as you feel more comfortable, you pick up a faster pace. His fingers are digging into your flesh at your hips as he holds onto you for dear life, panting and moaning at your motions. He glides in and out of you perfectly, setting your senses on fire practically.

“Harry, you feel so good,” you gasp, getting lost in the feeling. Sex has always been a good experience for you, but with Harry it’s a whole different story. As if he just opened a completely new world you never even knew about before.

“Yeah? You’re gonna cum for me?”

“Yes! Oh fuck!”

Harry pushes himself up, an arm coming around your back as he easily flips the two of you over, your back gently hitting the soft mattress. He holds himself up above you, lips crashing with yours as he starts to do the work this time, thrusting in and out of you, his hips smacking against yours forcefully as you both nearing the end.

“You’re making me lose my fucking mind, Y/N,” he cries out, head falling to the crook of your neck and you wrap your arms around him as a shield, holding him tight against you.

It doesn’t take long after that. He is hitting just the right spots, making you moan his name over and over again as your orgasm slowly devours you and washes over your whole body while he is still relentlessly moving.

“Harry! Oh… Fuck!” you gasp, legs and hands shaking and you clench your muscles around him, throwing him over the edge with you. He falls out of his rhythm, his cock twitching inside you as he moans against the hot skin of your neck, coming undone in your arms.

Nothing has ever felt this intense and mind-blowing and you’re now sure you’re addicted to him, there’s no turning back, not that you want that.

He collapses on top of you, still inside you, his body weighing down on you heavily, but it feels just fine. You run your arms up and down his sides, kissing the side of his head as you are both trying to catch your breath. It takes a few minutes for him to come back to reality with you, he lifts his head and moves to the side so he is not crushing you anymore, but an arm remains thrown over your abdomen. His vibrant green eyes are shining like never before when they meet your tired gaze and cupping his face in your palm you pull him in for a slow kiss where you finally have the time to actually taste him without the rushing of your own needs and urges.

“How are you feeling?” you softly asking, knowing well how major this was for him. You wouldn’t want him to spiral and start to self-destruct because of what just happened.

“I’m feeling fine,” he murmurs lowly, his fingers dancing on your naked side. “Just still a little torn if I did the right thing.”

“You worry too much. We did nothing wrong.”

“Not sure everyone would agree with that.”

“Fuck everyone else,” you chuckle and a smile tugs on his lips as well. “I will not feel bad for having the best sex of my life with a hot as fuck man I’m really into,” you bluntly tell him, earning a smug grin.

“Best sex of your life, huh?”

“Not even ashamed to admit,” you nod into the pillow. “How… was it for you?” you shyly ask, afraid his answer might disappoint you. But Harry pulls you closer until you’re pressed up against his chest, his lips capture yours, kissing you fiercely, making your heart skip a few beats for sure.

“Fucking amazing, baby. Probably the best I ever had too,” he admits, lips brushing against yours as he speaks. A satisfied sigh leaves your lips as you nuzzle against his chest once he has rolled to his back.

Silence comes over the two of you, you’re listening to his steady heartbeat, mindlessly drawing patterns over his chest. Lifting your head your eyes meet his and you can tell he has been thinking hard about what this all means for the future now.

“I’m in,” you simply tell him.

“Huh?”

“If you are thinking that I might not want to do this with you, that I just wanted a good fuck, that’s not what I think of this. If you want to give us a chance, I’m totally in.”

“You think we can make it work?” he quietly asks, his voice barely more than just a whisper.

“Of course,” you smile at him warmly. “You don’t?”

“I do, I’m just… there are so many things that can go wrong.”

“Then… we’ll make them right.”

Harry breathes out through his nose, clearly having a hard time to take it as easy as you do and you wish you could magically make all his doubts go away.

Sitting up you put your hands on each of his sides, looking down at him determined to bring out his confidence in the two of you.

“We just have to be patient and careful until I finish. Then we are basically free. That’s just one more semester. It could be way worse, we can make it work for a couple of months before we can finally do whatever we want. That doesn’t sound that bad, does it?” Harry shakes his head, reaching up he tugs your hair behind your ear before running his fingers down the side of your face.

“So we are really doing this?” he breathes out, a small smile on his sweet, pink lips.

“Well, I’m surely not giving up on this, we came a long way to be here,” you chuckle. “Question is, are you gonna give up on us? On… me?”

“Hell no,” he chuckles softly as he shakes his head. You smile down at him and leaning down you peck his lips tenderly.

“Then… we really are doing this.”

SEQUEL: 🌊 AN OCEAN AWAY 🌊

-

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed it!

[teaveetamer]

Ok so this is my thoughts on FNAF. I feel like FNAF started a whole era of "mystery baiting" type storytelling in video games. Where the important thing about the mystery is not the answer, or even the lore itself. The value in it is getting fans to talk about your game, hunt through every facet of it, and try to "figure out" the mystery themselves.

Now to be clear, I'm sure FNAF wasn't the first game or series to do this. However, I think it was the first time a game, and an indie game at that, not only did it with some success, but took off into a cultural phenomenon. In 2012 or 2013 I couldn't even imagine being able to walk into any GameStop and straight up buy merch for some indie game I'd played/seen, and by 2015 there were people walking around my high school just casually rocking Fredbear hoodies and keychains. Nowadays we're even at the point where there's basically an entire Horror Genre that's basically "make some wacky, recognizable characters and hope your game gets picked up by a big YouTuber so you can get a merch deal out of it." And a lot of those games use the FNAF formula of mystery baiting in the hopes that they'll entice people to talk about them.

We all love a good unsolved mystery. And it's free advertising for your game! Naturally people will see others talking about the lore and the mystery and they'll say "hey, this sounds neat, lemme find out more".

But it's also bad from a story writing perspective because you eventually run into a few problems.

#1) You need to keep the mystery going so people will keep talking about it, which leads to a massive bloat of meaningless content as you produce things just to drop "nuggets" for people to follow. I think later FNAF games really fall into this trap, where they just keep adding and adding and adding to the lore and now everything either conflicts or there's no human alive not named MatPat who can keep track of all of it.

I think Hello Neighbor also did this (granted I never got super deep into this one). But I remember when that game came out in like pre-alpha and there was some mystery, and people lost their minds trying to figure it out, and so the developers kept adding and adding and adding with every build to try to keep the hype going and then... nothing. It got so dumb and convoluted that people just stopped paying attention and most people don't even know the game came out AND has like four sequels at this point.

2) You never intended to answer the mystery, and you never do, which pisses people off. Unlike real life unsolved mysteries, we know that video game narratives are constructed by someone who knows all of the answers and they could tell us if they wanted, they just won't.

3) You have to answer the mystery, and trust me the answer is never going to live up to the expectation. It's a similar sentiment to people who are disappointed when the conclusion to a beloved game series is fumbled. You spend all of this time with the game playing it, searching for evidence, theorizing, talking with your friends, watching youtube videos, hunting for leads... and then it's not what you expected. The amount of backlash you'll get for an unsatisfying resolution is usually proportional to the amount of time you spend stringing the mystery out.

I think the Fodlan games carry a lot of that same energy. Again, the devs touted it as a plus that they were creating a game where many things were going to be left ambigious/unresolved/up to interpretation/off screen because it would make the world feel "bigger" and "more alive". They specifically say they intentionally left things out in routes because they wanted players to play a route and then go talk to each other online to try and "figure out" the mysteries of the other routes.

And I think this is a failure of writing for three reasons.

#1) They needed to keep producing content to keep the mystery going, which led to a massive bloat of meaningless content created as an excuse to keep the mystery going so players would have breadcrumbs to follow.

2) There are some mysteries they apparently just never intended to answer. The Shez/Ashe support in Hopes is a prime example of this. The exact origins of Arval is one as well, and TWSITD's whole deal was left mostly unaddressed. Sothis is also a mystery left hanging, as she never regains her memories or anything. This is frustrating to players, because we know devs exist who have the answers and they are just choosing not to tell us, because reasons.

This is also a double edged sword for them, because unlike FNAF which can continue going in perpetuity, constantly giving players new breadcrumbs and bite sized pieces of lore to satisfy them juuust enough, FE is a series that is frequently one-and-done. Which means you have players arguing the same points cyclically, and with no new information ever added to clarify or give further clues. This leads to even more frustration and burnout with the IP.

3) The mysteries they did answer, the answers often did not live up to expectation. Either in the execution (plot dumps, mostly), or in the actual answer. Frequently because the answer is "idk, mole people did it" with no further elaboration, and the mole people themselves are an underdeveloped mystery so you've just answered a mystery with another mystery.

That's not to say you can't have mystery or intrigue, but I don't know. To me the Fodlan games feel like they were intentionally constructed to mystery bait a fandom into promoting their game for them

Now, do I think 3H was influenced directly by FNAF? It's... difficult to say. I know in the West we tend to look at Japanese developers as this isolated island, but of course they look at what's working in other parts of the world. The most recent Story of Seasons game was noticeably influenced by the success of Stardew Valley, for example. FNAF's influence also didn't just stop in the west. It was a big phenomenon in many parts of the world.

Of course FNAF and FE are completely different genres, unlike Stardew and SoS, but it's not completely unbelievable that someone looked at FNAF, or stories that copied FNAF's formula and found some success, and said "ooh, mysteries! People seem to like those. Add some of this into the next game!" When one game does something successfully then the industry tends to chase it.

[theyreonlynoodlesmike]

Apologies if this has been asked for a prompt, but how about one where they discover the real origins of the curse (like how they do in the last one) but in 1978 so they’re able to save Tommy? Can we also pretend it’s early on so he doesn’t end up killing anybody A very dramatic yet happy ending as Cindy ends up living but obvi the reader and Tommy are together and they get their own 70s version of “burgers and the pixies” :)

Hello :)) I love this prompt and this is also technically a semi-sequel to "are you in there?" where basically they tie him up and Cindy and Alice do what they need to in order to break the curse :)

Pizza and Aerosmith (Tommy Slater x Reader)

Warnings: major character death, blood mention/described, axe violence mentioned, devil shit mentioned, cursing, betrayal, attempted violence, minor angst, kissing, not proof read sorry

Word Count: 4.9k

"Her body wasn't there!" Alice yelled, throwing down her trowel and her walkie talkie. They'd told you about ten minutes before that they were heading back to the cabin, and you'd expected them to be carrying a bag of bones in tow. You and Arnie's heads snapped to her and Cindy, and your mouth fell open for a minute as you tried to think of what to say. Of what to do.

That night, your boyfriend had been possessed. If it had been six hours ago, you wouldn't have believed it yourself. But, after the four of you had found his name carved into solid stone and he nearly went for an axe to chop up Arnie, it was hard to deny.

You'd dragged him to your cabin. You weren't supposed to be supervising color war, so there was no reason anyone should've come to get you. And, well, you couldn't exactly let your boyfriend near anyone. You'd had to tie him up and leave him on your bed, where he continuously squirmed and tried to harm pretty much anyone within a certain distance to him. That alone made you positive that this wasn't your Tommy.

"Well, what do you mean it wasn't there?" Arnie asked as he stood up. They were talking, explaining, too fast for you to catch up. The body was there. The body wasn't there.

"Maybe you dug in the wrong place." You said, trying to be hopeful, and Cindy proceeded to lift up a rock. Written on it was, The witch forever lives. Shit, alright. Maybe they didn't dig in the wrong place.

But, that left the four of you in a deep pile of shit. What were you supposed to do? How would you find Sarah Fiers body? It had been over three hundred years, and Nurse Lanes diary was about the only insight you had! You sat on the bed, ignoring Tommy's jerking and grunts. You reached out to place a hand on his arm as you stared at the wall across from you.

You'd promised him you'd get him free of this. That the four of you would do what you needed to in order to help him. Alice and Arnie had already suggested- You weren't even going to think about it. You didn't care if finding the body sounded impossible. You'd successfully found the hand, and not even Nurse Lane had been able to do that. You could all find her body too. You went over everything you knew of the curse in your mind, and interrupted whatever fight Alice and Cindy were having to say,

"The blood." And they both turned. You looked up, at the three of them. "The blood. Blood falls whenever Sarah Fier is near. We just have to walk around camp and wait-"

"Wait until one of us gets a nosebleed? Are you serious?" Alice interrupted, and Arnie was quick to join in.

"That could take all night!" Arnie said, and you gave each of them a look. It was better than their idea. And, even if Arnie and Alice did seem particularly cynical about everything, for a second- Just for a second you'd seen how much they wanted to end this. For Tommy, for Shadyside. And there was really only one way to make this go faster.

"It wouldn't if you had more help."

***

At first, they'd thought just you and Arnie, but your plan stretched farther than that. It was why Joan, Gary, Ziggy, and, to all of your surprise, Nick Goode, stood in your cabin, staring at the tied up form of your boyfriend.

"Y'know, when Joan and I were talking about the curse earlier, we were just messing with you guys." Gary said, and part of your stomach sank when Joan agreed with,

"Yeah, this is way trippy." You knew it was going to be hard to convince them. You knew it was a long shot in total darkness but what else could you do?

"We know this sounds crazy," Cindy started, and you were happy she was the one taking over. Out of all of you, she was the one that would never play a prank like this. And if she believed it- Well. "We can even show you what we found, but we have to do it quick. Tommy- From what we know, he doesn't have a lot of time and-"

"I believe you." Nick interrupted, and you watched as Ziggy was quick to turn to him.

"What?" She quickly asked, an incredulous look on her face. And, while the sisters were as different as could be, you could see the resemblance between them when it came to their skepticism. Nick looked at her, even reached out to place a hand on her arm.

"Look at him, Ziggy. That's- That's Tommy Slater. He couldn't even kill the rat they found in the kitchen earlier in the month and now he's-" He glanced over at him just as Tommy let out a particularly hard thrash, and you tried to calm him. You shushed him, pushing his hair out of his face. His forehead was sweaty from all his exertion, his arms straining against the rope. Having more people in the room seemed to aggravate him more, and you watched as his teeth bit the gag in his mouth. "And Nurse Lane attacking him? Really, is it so hard to believe that it's all connected? That it's all..." He didn't need to finish for you to know where he was going, but he did anyways. "Sarah Fier?" For a moment, you nearly swore that you wanted to hug the kid. You glanced back over, watching as Ziggy looked between you and Tommy.

You'd never been close to her. Sure, you were friends with her sister, but, from what you'd heard from Cindy, they were hardly close either. But, you gave her a tilt of your head and you watched as she let out a small sigh and a roll of her eyes.

"What do you even need us to do?"

***

Cindy and Alice were going to take them to see what they'd found, to convince those that still needed an extra push, and then go find the body of Sarah Fier. You'd explained to them that at least two people needed to watch Tommy at all times, and that's when Nick Goode surprised you again.

"I can stay with him." He offered, and you'd given him a confused look. You and Arnie quickly shared a glance. The two of you had been watching Tommy all night, had an unspoken bond, a similar one to the one Cindy and Alice were building, already. "Arnie can go with his girlfriend and I can stay here." And you didn't miss the glance he sent towards Cindy. She'd been glaring at him the second he seemed just a little too familiar with her sister. You supposed he didn't want to spend the rest of the night caught in her group, and, well, part of you couldn't blame him. Especially when she quickly agreed. While the groups got ready to part ways, Arnie quietly asked you,

"You okay with this?" And you bit your lip for a moment. You should be. The Nick kid, while you didn't know him well, was always the nicest out of the Sunnyvale counselors. And, well, he was the only one that actually believed you. Completely believed you. And you knew that if you were in Arnie's shoes, you'd want to tag along with Alice. Really, you couldn't think of a reason to say no. So, why did you have a pit in your stomach?

"Yeah, sure. Just- Get this over with quick, okay?" You asked him, and he gave you a nod and a smile. He held out his hand for a fist bump, and you gave him one. Last second, you handed him the second walkie talkie that you'd given to Alice before, and quietly told him, "Keep it on, okay?" And, while his eyes had been confused, he'd given you a nod.

You'd been trying to conserve the batteries all night, but, with the pit in your stomach, you didn't want to take any chances.

***

Cindy, Alice, and Arnie took the others to see the room they'd found. That alone was enough proof the show that they weren't fucking around. That this wasn't some sort of sick prank. Though, as they walked out of the room, Ziggy still had questions,

"Well, yeah- I get this being a curse and all, but who lit the candle? Who wrote his name?" And Joan was quick to add,

"Yeah, like, you guys were with Tommy all day so it's not like he wrote himself." And the three of them paused. They'd been so caught up in trying to break the curse, in trying to save Tommy, that they hadn't really thought about who'd doomed him in the first place.

"This is so weird. And why Tommy? Tommys- Tommy. Why would someone choose him?" Gary asked, and the three of them were stumped. Tommy wasn't a jerk that made enemies with a lot of people. He was nice to everyone, even those that weren't nice to him. And why would they choose a camp counselor? Didn't they know that he'd be surrounded by children?

"I- We don't know." Cindy said, and the six of them walked through the little storage room. Cindy shined her flashlight in front of her as she thought, wondering just who would choose Tommy Slater to be the next Shadyside Killer. Cindy couldn't stop thinking about it even as they broke off in pairs and started looking for the body.

As she walked with her sister, she glanced over at Arnie and Alice, who were heading a different direction. She watched as he played with the walkie talkie in his hands, and, for a moment, she had a small sinking feeling in her chest before she pushed on.

***

At least with Arnie, you kind of knew what to talk to him about. You were at least sort of friends, since both of you were Shadyside counselors. You could talk about how stupid color war was, about the places back in town. Arnie had even asked you a few questions about Tommy, which you'd been happy to answer.

But Nick? You'd thanked him for staying, and then the pair of you sat in silence as you tried to keep Tommy calm. Gently, you pat him with a wet washcloth to try to cool down his fever. You tried not to think about what Nurse Lane had said as you did. One way or another, you're gonna die tonight. You wondered what would happen if he continued to resist the curse, and your heart tightened at the idea. You shook your head. You weren't going to let that happen. The others had been gone for awhile, almost two hours, so they were due to check back sooner rather than later. Hopefully, one of the groups would have good news. You ran the wash cloth over his cheeks as you said,

"After this, we're gonna get pizza and listen to Aerosmith all night. Watch a few movies, maybe. You like the sound of that?" You asked, even if he couldn't respond. Even if the only thing he sent you was a nasty glare. With a sigh, you wished for the moments where he'd look at you like you put the sun in the sky.

You turned around when you heard something fall, and you stared in confusion as you watched Nick reach for Tommy's bat. He'd left it here once, and you'd put the axe he'd gotten from that room right besides it. You stood when you watched him grip it.

"Nick?" You asked, and you watched as he turned around. He had a smile on his face, the same charming smile he'd given Ziggy, but the pit in your stomach returned. You glanced down at the bat, just as he started to explain,

"Oh, y'know- In case, he gets free." He said, and you glanced down at the way he was holding it again. The way his hands changed grip. You didn't like what he was implying, first of all. You didn't want to hurt Tommy, you wanted to help him. That was the point of all this. You'd lived in Shadyside all your life, and maybe that gave you a better bullshit detector than most. Or, maybe, part of you had become so used to things going to shit that now you could smell it. Quietly, you said,

"He won't get free." And you shuffled your feet. You stood in front of him almost defensively, but, part of you didn't think it was Tommy you needed to protect. He gave you a smile and a shrug, and then you glanced over at the walkie talkie you'd put on your desk. The second you did, the second your eyes left him, Nick moved. You didn't know what was happening, not truly, but you knew that it was bad. You snatched the walkie talkie and ducked out of the way of his swing. You turned it on as you hauled ass to the bathroom, side-stepping him as he tried to grab you, and slammed your back against the bathroom door to keep it shut as you fumbled with the lock. You heard him banging on the door, heard the knob moving as he tried to get it open, and then he stopped. It sent a chill up your spine to hear silence on the other side. Finally, you pulled up the antenna, pressed the button, and yelled into the walkie talkie,

***

"Code red! Code red!" Came screaming out in your voice from the walkie talkie so loud that Arnie swore he almost jumped a mile. He was quick to answer with a shout of your name, and a,

"What's going on? What's wrong?" And Alice backtracked from where she walked in front. They could hear the panic in your voice as you yelled back,

"Arnie! Thank god! Come back to the cabin right now it's-" And the line went dead. You must've taken your hand off of the button, and the silence sent a chill up both of their backs. The only thing they could hear was the sound of crickets and wind. They hadn't even stumbled across a camper yet, and the woods felt empty and ready to swallow the pair of them.

Alice and Arnie stared at eachother for a moment. They'd been walking aimlessly, the maps Cindy had made up in their hands. A second of unspoken words passed between them, and then they were both sprinting back towards your cabin.

***

When Ziggy stepped on the red moss, she made a noise of disgust and lifted her foot. It has stained her shoes, and she quickly asked,

"Ugh, what is this stuff?" And Cindy looked up from her map. She'd carefully given each pair a third of the camp to search over. With two people to comb through each section, they should've been able to find it at least within the night. They were supposed to check back She looked around at the red moss, recognizing it as the same moss from the outhouse. From the caves under the outhouse. She glanced around, looking where it grew.

"Holy shit." She said, and quickly walked towards the rock. She looked around, and her sister arched a brow at her. In disbelief, she asked,

"Did you just swear?" And Cindy quickly waved her off. She was spinning around, quickly stepping through the moss with a big smile on her face. She probably looked insane, but Cindy didn't care. They'd needed another sign, another thing to look for. She felt stupid for not thinking of it sooner.

"The moss!" But Ziggy gave a small shake of her head. She didn't understand. Cindy pulled the hand out of her bag and held it up. She pointed at it as she said, "We found this in the red moss. This," She said pointing around. "Might be apart of the curse!" And Ziggy's eyes widened in understanding. Quickly, she echoed,

"Holy shit!" And the pair of them were quick to start looking. It only took a second for them to each get on their knees and start searching through the moss. It only took a few minutes for Ziggy to feel warmth dripping down out of her nose, and she swore she'd never been so happy to get a nosebleed ever in her life. Quickly, she called, "Over here!" And Cindy scrambled over. They started searching through the spot, and when they finally dusted the dirt off to find a ribcage, they were both so happy they could nearly scream. They cleaned it off further, completely unearthing the body of Sarah Fier. And, finally, Cindy held the hand in both of hers and gave Ziggy a look. This was it. Ziggy reached out, and together they out the hand back with the rest of Sarah Fier.

***

Arnie practically ripped your screen door off it's hinges as they ran into your cabin. He wasn't thinking clearly, wasn't thinking about what he was doing. All he knew was that you sounded like you were in trouble and now-

He ran into Nick. The brunette grabbed him by the arms, and looked scared out of his wits. The words were leaving his lips so fast that Arnie almost didn't have time to process.

"I thought I heard something outside so I went- I went to see if it was one of you and then I heard screaming and now-" And Arnie cut him off.

"Where's Tommy? Where's y/n?" He demanded, and Alice was right behind him now. She gasped when she saw the mess of the bathroom door. It had been axed nearly in half, before being pushed open. She was quick to run towards it, and Arnie pushed Nick away from him to the same. There was a mess of wood over the floor, but there was no blood. And, when they spotted the open window, a glimmer of hope went through both of them.

You were resourceful and smart. Of course you'd gone through the window. It dimmed a bit however when they saw the broken walkie talkie. Alice picked it up. The antenna was barely hanging off of it and the body looked crushed, stomped on. Getting in contact with you was now near impossible, but they had hope that you were still out there. Arnie turned back to watch as Nick paced, seeming to lose his mind over what had happened. He looked like a ball of nerves, and Arnie could understand why. He'd been gone for one minute and everything had gone to shit. Though, as Arnie looked back at Alice, he saw something there. She narrowed her eyes at him for a moment, and Arnie wasn't surprised when she asked,

"Did you look for them? Do you know what direction they went?" And, when Nick shook his head, his story started to make a little less sense. The pair of them shared a look, and they had a brief moment of silent communication. How did Nick come back when he heard screaming and not see where Tommy went? Axing down a door didn't take a matter of seconds, it took minutes. And you sure as hell wouldn't have started screaming just before Tommy got the door open. So, the real question was, how did Nick miss you? The couple glanced over at Nick, but didn't say a word. Instead, Arnie asked him,

"So what do we do?" And they were relieved that at least his first idea was to get all the campers out of there.

***

Your thighs burned as you hid. Outrunning Tommy simply wasn't an option, but your mind was on hyperdrive as you tried to process the last five minutes of your life. Nick Goode was a dick. Whatever he'd been trying to achieve, it had ended up with Tommy getting loose. You thought maybe he was going to do what Alice had suggested at the very beginning of the night. Take care of Tommy to make sure no one else got hurt. Instead, now, you were trying to keep yourself from getting axed by your very own boyfriend. Not to mention, you were trying to keep him away from the direction of the kids. Sure, yes, you were hiding and running from him. But, you were also making sure that you were the one he stayed in pursuit of. It was a fragile balance, and you glanced around before you stood up to find a new hiding place.

You nearly screamed when you ran into someone, but you quickly ripped Ziggy and Cindy down behind a bush. The words left your mouth in a quick whisper as you started,

"Guys, I have so much to tell you. Nick Goode-" But Ziggy was finishing your sentence.

"Is a total douche." Her voice was laced with venom, and she sounded pissed. Betrayed, even. And you gave them each a confused look. You looked between them and asked,

"You know?" Your surprise was laced in your voice. How did they know? How could they know? But, Cindy was quick to explain.

"When we put the hand back with her body, we saw the truth."

"We saw everything." Ziggy added, and you looked back to Cindy when she continued,

"The Goode family is the reason for the curse. They made a deal with the devil, so Sunnyvale could prosper and they've been feeding him Shadyside blood!" And you stared at them. Really, hours ago, you would've thought they were both on drugs. But now? After watching your boyfriend get possessed, finding a creepy bone hand, and getting almost fed to your possessed boyfriend by the Sheriff's son? You'd believe Santa was real.

"Nick Goode just completely fucked everything up, and now Tommy's loose." You whispered, and their eyes widened. The three of you looked between eachother, and then around. You couldn't see anything in the dark, but you felt like an ant trapped under a magnifying glass as Ziggy whispered what you were all thinking,

"Shit." And you gave her a nod. Now that you were thinking about it, you had no idea if Nick even knew. He'd tried to kill your boyfriend to save everyone, and it turns out his family was the reason for the curse? God, how the hell were you going to explain that? You gripped each of them as Cindy continued again,

"But that's not the worst of it." She said, and you gave her a confused look. What could be worse than all of this? Nothing could've prepared you for the words she said. "Nick Goode picked Tommy. He's the reason Tommy's possessed." And you felt white hot anger replace every ounce of your fear.

***

When Arnie and Alice watched Ruby Lane climb out of the grate in the middle of the kitchen, more of a black sludge becoming the figure of the dead serial killer, they thought tonight couldn't have gotten any weirder. The only way to make it worse was that Nick had run out of the room, and Arnie had to knock his shoulder against the door to stop him from locking it behind him. They had already guessed that he was a back-stabbing little bitch, especially when they had to force him to stay to wait for the rest of you instead of getting on the bus with the campers, but this? Oh, they were going to kill him if they got out of this alive.

When she started to walk towards them, they were quick to head towards the door, only to watch as you, Cindy, and Ziggy ran inside. And guess who was only a few feet behind you? Tommy.

"Shit!" Alice said as they slammed the door closed, and they quickly did their best to stop him from pushing it open and getting inside. But, to their surprise, they watched as you practically snarled,

"You." At the brunette. You ran, tackling him to the ground before he could try to escape. Even if the crazy bitch from the sixties was quick to come out of the kitchen and you had to roll off of him before she slashed you with a razor. You dodged the milkman as Nick tried to run, as the killers quickly turned on Ziggy and Cindy. You knew, to some degree, you were the best person, one of the only people, that could go after him. You'd seen it when you ran from Tommy. He'd specifically tried to go after them, completely ignoring a prime opportunity to swing at you when you tripped on the way over. Because of whatever the Berman's had seen, it was like they had a target on their back. And you had a pretty good idea as to how you were supposed to end all of it.

"Watch out!" Ziggy yelled as you tried to get away from who you quickly realized was Ruby Lane, and as a man in a jumpsuit with a knife tried to slash Cindy. Cindy threw you her shovel, even as she dodged and ran from the man. She yelled,

"Don't let him get away!" And you knew what you had to do. You ran after him, seeing that he was climbing down into the hole below. He looked up just as you went to swing, and, you watched him panic. You watched as he lost whatever grip he had, as he fell into the hole rather than climbed down. You were about to climb down after him, about to make sure this was finished. Instead, you heard- a laugh?

You and the rest of your friends stood above the hole in the kitchen, staring down at it. The killers had disappeared, gone in a poof. The kids were safe on the bus, already heading back to town. And Nick Goode was dead. When he fell, he must've hit his head. Broken his neck. It was a quick death, one that could've happened to anyone. If anything, it could be labelled an accident.

"Should we check?" Alice asked, and the five of you looked between eachother, and then down at the hole. It was tempting. To see the body of the man that had done something so evil lay lifeless. It was Cindy that answered her.

"Nah, just let him rot down there." And, ultimately, you agreed. Arnie reached to close the grate, sliding it in place. The five of you nearly jumped out of your skin when Gary and Joan barged in the kitchen door, and paused when they saw you all standing around it.

"Why's Tommy knocked out outside?" Gary said, pointing with his thumb, and you gave him a smile as the others started to laugh out of relief.

***

You and Tommy sat on the rock in the middle of the woods. It was the one Cindy had labelled on your map. You'd gotten a large pie of pizza, and his little radio was blasting Aerosmith as you enjoyed the summer afternoon.

The camp had closed, and the News ran with the story. An axe murderer had wandered onto the camp grounds of Camp Nightwing, but, due to the heroism of it's counselors, not a single camper had been hurt. Tommy Slater, in particular, was famed for having distracted and fought the killer long enough to let the campers escape, to the point where certain counselors had at first thought he was to blame. And, when the police asked the only eye-witnesses to the crime, all of them had said one name.

Nick Goode.

It wasn't until a week later that anyone had found the body of Nick Goode in the caves, and the police hadn't known what to make of the discovery. With eight eye-witnesses and a cave full of occult shit, it was hard to cover up or deny. So, now, the News circled with the story of Nick Goode, the first Sunnyvale Killer.

Tommy handed you a bag of fries as the pair of you ate, and you smiled as you looked over at him. In the sunlight, the copper in his hair shined and his eyes practically glowed. The look in his eyes had returned, the one that he gave you. The one where he looked at you like you put the sun in the sky.

"So, this is her, huh?" Tommy said, pointing with his foot at the red moss. You nodded, taking another bite.

"Yeah, she saved us." You said, a small smile on your face. You wanted to visit for that exact reason. To silently tell her thanks, and to meet the girl that saved your lives. Tommy knocked his shoulder against yours, and you looked up at him.

"No," He said with a small shake of his head. "You saved me. You never gave up on me." He said, and your eyes softened. You looked at him, leaning in as he pressed a kiss to your forehead. "I heard you, y'know. Fighting for me. And I'm sorry I-"

"No, don't apologize." You told him quickly, reaching out to hold his hand. "That wasn't you." You told him, and you watched how the words made him tilt his head. How they soothed whatever ache he still had in him. Whatever regrets. You knew he was hard on himself, that part of him probably blamed himself for giving in. For what he could've done. Softly, you added, "Did you hear all the times I told you I loved you?" And you watched how he smiled, how the clouds of his regret seemed to fade. He gave you a small nod, and you smiled back. He leaned in to kiss you, and you met him halfway.

[laketaj24]

Serotonin

Author’s Note: I finally finished something in my drafts after two months. I feel semi accomplished today! Taglist is open, as are requests!!!! Send them… I want them.

Pairing: Colson Baker x Reader

Warning: Smut, public sex, drinking, language

Inspo Song: Why are you here?

 The eyes searing into you from across the club belonged to Meg Styer; you knew of her well, based on Colson’s Instagram, she was the new arm piece. The well-known model had a reputation of making herself known to the exes, even if that meant starting confrontations when they were not needed. She crossed her long russet brown legs; they shimmered in gold, as did her entire outfit. You felt immediately outdone, thinking of the minimal effort you’d put into the outfit or your makeup today. Tonight's outing was not supposed to be about Colson or this new woman; it was about falling out of this fucking slump you'd found yourself in for the past month.

"It’s lively here.” Eric grinned. Straight edge, Eric.

You cringed inside; if your mother could have created someone on an app, Eric would have been him. Without a doubt, he was handsome, with dark hair, delicate features, and not a tattoo or piercing in sight. The club had been his idea, but parts of you believed he’d gotten the idea from your sister, who knew that there was no way in hell you’d sit at a restaurant and eat. You liked the action; your job called for you to sit in silence and awkward conversations; you didn't want your life to be a damper as well.

“It is,” you looked around, taking everything in, including the abrasive eyes that still remained on you, but it didn’t matter once he entered the room. The black shirt revealed his entire tattoo-riddled chest, even the one of your name he’d gotten a few years back. He looked like he might be up to trying you tonight, so you had to disappear and do so quickly. “We should go to the booth you got.”

“Yeah, sounds like a good idea.”

It wasn’t a good idea; you sat uncomfortably across from the pair watching their every move while trying to suppress the need to end the date abruptly and slap the fuck out of him. Irritating you always was the one thing he did exceedingly well. Meg sat in his lap, draping her arms over his body, throwing her ass on him like she had no shame!  Did he know it was you across the room from him? Did he care? You watched as the waiter brought your third glass of tequila to the table and leaned into Eric, noticing the earthy cologne mixed with the whiskey. He smelled nice, or perhaps you were elusive to the bullshit because being near to him dulled the ache of the scene across from you.

The room to be secluded offered no privacy, so even when you felt alone, you were smothered in the thoughts of what if he saw you kiss or touch this guy- what the fuck was his name again? You uncrossed your legs, clumsily kicking the round glass table in front of you and spilling his drink but thank god not yours.

“I need some air; I’m gonna go get some.” You paused and took your glass. “I’ll be back.” The words scrambled out, and you did too, pushing up from the leather couch and not looking back to see Eric’s reaction to the awkward movements.

Too many people surrounded you, and at the moment, all you truly wanted was to hear nothing and feel nothing, even if it meant you had to get shit-faced. The stairwell didn’t have many people in it; only two women consumed in one another and Colson.

Your heart sunk once you realized it was him, from fear, dread – fucking embarrassment, maybe? He shook his head; you took notice of the three earrings in one ear while the other garnished a seat of crosses that dangled. Colson’s hair was slightly disheveled atop his head; the dark roots peeked out of the platinum blonde tapered cut. He looked great as usual. “I thought you were in for the night?” Colson’s voice carried over the music because he refused not to be heard, especially by you. He looked down at you, nursing the glass of chilled tequila. You’d acquired a taste for it over the years of being with him, Colson drinking tequila like water had rubbed off on you. “This doesn’t look like your place.”

“Did you want something?”

“Why are you here with that broke down,” He paused dramatically, raising his hand as he thought of more insults. “Tom and Jerry looking motherfucker?”

“That’s the best you can do?”

Colson drug his teeth over his lip, “Where you meet him?”

“Where’s that instamodel chick? You know the one with the plastic ass and tits? You leave her in the car just so you can go check on your other hoes, or is she in here with them?”

“Man, stop.”

“I saw her looking at me, don’t tell them about me. I’m not your concern, and I am damn sure not theirs.”

“How’d you catch her looking at you if you weren’t looking at me?” Colson’s cocky smirk sent a rush of anger coursing through your body; even when he lost, he found a sure way to find a confident victory in it.

“Bye, Colson.” Your eyes met his, remembering how blue they were. Even when he was dead drunk, they found a way to still hold onto the Colson you knew was in there somewhere. The sweet one that danced in the rain and stayed in bed with you every free night he could give -- you shook it off. Breaking eye contact with him to look anywhere but the blue crystal stare. You cut down to the ground, admiring your pumps before he turned away from you and left.

The drink was no longer cold, and the tequila didn’t even burn as you chugged down the remnants of the clear liquid. You pinched the bridge of your nose, taking a deep breath, and then leaned against the stairwell.

“Long night?” Eric cleared his throat.

“Already, I’m so sorry. Could we leave here?”

Eric shook his head yes and placed his hand on your shoulder, “Is everything okay?”

“Perfectly, fine. It’s fine.” You swallowed. The hazed state of your mind needed to be cleared, especially before you left with him. “Can I meet you upfront? I’m going to freshen.”

“It’s fine; take your time.”

 You wouldn’t take your time; the quicker you were out of this place, the better. Whenever you were in his element, your mind refused to do the right thing. You moved through the crowded dance floor, carefully avoiding familiar faces. And finally, you were at the restrooms splashing the cool water on your face. You looked yourself over, grateful you hadn’t worn makeup—the trickles of water run down your rich ochre brown skin.  Too many thoughts raced through your mind out there but not in here. It was silence, and your mind was in a stupor. For a second, everything stilled, your heart and breathing were relaxed, and everything was back to normal, that moment as everything else was short-lived.

Colson’s reflection appeared in the mirror before you. “I cannot believe you lied to me?” The door clicked behind him.

“I didn’t lie to you.” The way he casually entered the women’s bathroom to start an argument pissed you off. “And get the fuck outta here.”

“We talked earlier today, and you said you were in for the night.”

“You said you were going out by yourself, and you got a whole entourage. So, same shit, we both just single now.”

“Come here.”

“No, you don’t get to tell me to come here. You don’t get to follow me in the bathroom and talk to me about fucking lying when you-.”

Words ended when his lips met yours, he towered over you, but he didn’t mind the effort it took to get to your lips. He walked you against the wall- steadying your steps to his until he picked you up, and as if your body knew the routine, you wrapped your legs around him. Your lips eagerly kissed him back, tugging on his bottom lip before returning to take more kisses. How were you this hungry for him? You wanted nothing more than him to fuck you, rip this dress and ruin you in this unlocked bathroom. “Y/N.”

“Fuck me.” You pleaded.

He only needed the confirmation to move towards his belt buckle unsheathe his dick. There were two ways you fucked, frantic and as if you would never see one another again and then slow – ironically, they both had the same outcome. Your heartbeat matched his, strumming against your chest, and his matched yours. You loved it. There was no foreplay needed; you wanted to feel every inch of the pain he had to offer. He pushed the black dress up to your thighs, bunching the fabric enough that it revealed your pussy for him. He swiped his tongue over the pads over his fingers and swiped your lips. You were wet for him. You had been the whole night, no matter how much you wanted to deny it. He pushed the long finger into you, curling it to press the soft pad that made you squirm and throw your head back in pleasure.

He moved from the wall to the counters, not giving a fuck if someone walked in or not; he spread your legs wider for him and gripped your curls. Exposed to the world, but all you could see was him. You reveled as he slammed into your hilt deep, muted your sequel with his lips, and paused. “You missed me, didn’t you?” He whispered. “Y/N?”

“Shut up,” Your pussy answered for you, squeezing to pull him deeper as he fucked into you. He wasn’t even deep enough for you; your fingers tug on the black shirt as you thrust to meet him each time. Your skin clapped against his every time, his cock expertly hitting that spot inside of you that made you want to cum right then and there. You held it, panting as it began to build up all over your body. He knew the signals, the way your hands rapt against him, legs quivered, and your pussy throbbed.

“Up.” He said, listening to the door open behind him.

Decency had left when he started fucking you, there was no way in hell you’d stop now, and Colson possessed no fucks when it came to sex. They could watch whoever the fuck it was. He positioned you in front of the mirror, bent over for him. Colson’s heavy hand came down on your ass, and then he pushed into you arching your back before wrapping a hand around your hair and fucking into you wildly.

Your ass bounced back on him, and his moans made you wetter. Your fists clenched as you tried to steady yourself – there was no controlling the orgasm that flowed through you. Your breath quickened, your toes curled, and your eyes snapped closed as his name rolled from your tongue.

“Open them eyes.” He gave an arrogant laugh before leaning over you, pushing himself deeper and flicking his tongue over the lobe of your ear.,

Your eyes opened, and you saw yourself flushed with sweat, mouth open, and him fucking the shit out of you. The scene erotic, beautiful, and shit you wanted it again and again. “Oh shit.” You mumbled.

“You think that fucking clown ass suit gone give you this?” He laughed as he slapped your ass again. “I thought not.” He guided you back on him, taking your hips in his hands, making sure you took every inch. He was greedy himself, watching your breast bounce in the reflection of the mirror, all while hearing you echo throughout the entire bathroom. It was music to his ears. Colson slowed his stroke momentarily, peppering, kissing down your shoulder blade before increased his pace once again, and your body jolted. You ground against him, urging him to cum and the pressure built. He panted against your back for a moment and then kissed your exposed skin. “Don’t go home with him.” He whispered, retrieving your panties from his pocket. Colson lowered himself to his knees and turned you around.

“You can’t tell me that.” You whispered.

“I’m asking.”

“Are you taking her home?”

“I can drop her ass off at her place right now.” He smiled, pointing. “Shit, you can ride shotgun.”

Good memories flooded of his snarky ass sense of humor and late nights. “You’re silly.”

Colson adjusted your dress and then stood in front of you, making sure your hair and lipstick was not smudged everywhere. “Drop Chandler off and come home.”

“Fucking hell mate,” Dom’s voice did not seem shocked. “This other chick is trying to kill me out here. Y/N?”

“Dude, will you get the fuck out of here… like now.”

“Fine. I’m leaving.”

“This was-,” You step away. “Uhm, I don’t know. I’ll call you okay?”

“Tonight?”

“Tomorrow.” You clarified. “Or the next day, just give me a damn minute to breathe?”

“Bet.” He sighed. “Should I go first… so it won’t seem suspect?”

“You’re a 6’4” guy leaving the women’s restroom, you’re busted.” You chuckled.

 A/N: I through Dom (Yungblud) in there because I kinda love him just as much lol might right him too! Hope you enjoyed! Thank you! Please let me know what you think!

Taglist: @taytayize123 @supernaturalvikingwhore @jae-writes-fanfiction @bigsisbria @placeoffreedom @kyla-queen @missdforever @gottatoxicattitude @bang-kim-bap @msreshel @blowmymbackout @titty-teetee​

[thesquidkid]

tell the world i'm coming home

the sequel to feels like we're going home, but with this time an introspection on Alex. This too was written in a single sitting, but at least it was a decent hour and not midnight. I wanted to get this out before 4x02, so I can write more about Malex and home starting tomorrow.

Considering this is a look into Alex's mind, please beware the mentions of child abuse and everything related to military.

Enjoy! 😁 (Read it on A03)

Home: what Alex and Michael are building together. 

When Alex got home, Michael was in the shower. With a smile on his face at the idea of his boyfriend making himself at home, Alex made his way to the living room, looking forward to sitting down and taking the weight off his leg. 

What he surely did not expect, however, was to find an open dictionary on the living room table, sitting right next to a little alien keyring. Curious, he bent over it, reading the page it was opened on. His breath got caught in his throat as he read what Michael had scribbled. 

The definition of Home had been crossed out with a permanent pen, replaced with an annotation in the margin. It was both the meaning, the new definition, and the fact that it was not done with a pencil, that made Alex tear up. 

Home: what Alex and Michael are building together. 

The annotation was followed by a little heart, a bit slanted and crooked, like Michael had doubted himself halfway through, but still went with it. 

Alex sat down at a chair, his eyes never leaving the dictionary. His fingers traced the words once more, just to make sure they were real. And yet. Sometimes it still felt like a dream. 

Alex knew, logically, that his life with Michael was very much real. But years of trauma, of never truly feeling safe, only living in a house and not a home, didn’t go away just like that. 

Oh, how he wished it would. How he wished to wake up one day, and not have any nightmares, not to feel his father’s gaze on him, his voice in his head. Not to be suddenly teleported back to the Middle East every time a door slammed too loud. But that was not the reality he lived in. 

Home. 

As a kid, Alex had a home. Both in the literal sense, a place where he lived, with his family. But also in the more figurative sense, a place where he was safe, where he was loved. 

Like most things in Alex’s life, it didn’t last long. 

His mother left. His father beat him. His brothers ignored him. 

He still had a safe place, but he never referred to his house as a home after that. A home had a sense of protection, of love, of peace that Alex never really got. Except in the shed. 

But once again, it didn’t last. 

Home. 

People often asked Alex where ‘home’ was. He always answered “Roswell”, and while people assumed he meant his childhood house, he never contradicted them. How could he explain to them that he never truly felt as much as home as he did in the arms of Michael Guerin. 

That for so long he had assimilated home with disappointment, abandonment, and pain. That the place he was supposed to feel safe in was his worst nightmare. 

Home. 

As a kid, he loved having sleepovers at Maria or Liz’s place. He didn’t feel quite at home, but it gave him hope that one day, he would. Seeing Mimi and Arturo as loving parents should’ve hurt, make him dream of something he would never have. And sometimes it did. But mostly, he felt loved, wanted. That one day, he too would fight all odds and build himself a home, a family. 

Which was what he was currently doing, with Michael. The love of his life. The man he was going to share his home with for the rest of his life. 

Michael, who carried a key around wherever he went, even if he didn’t need it, as a metaphor for the life they were building. For the trust, and the communication, and all the effort they were doing to be better. 

Michael, who left him the most beautiful and heartwarming love notes, in the form of a scribble on a dictionary. 

“Hey,” said the aforementioned downright perfect boyfriend, as he walked into the living room, wrapped in a towel, his hair still dripping from the shower. 

Alex turned his head to him, admiring the view that he would never get tired of, and smiled at him. He momentarily forgot that he had just been lost in his thoughts, on the verge of tears. The thought of Michael often had that effect on him, making him forget about all the bad, and the ugly, and only focus on the good. 

Alex was soon brought back to reality, as Michael's cheerful smile dropped instantly after seeing Alex’s red eyes. He reached the table in two long strides, crouching down so he could be at the same level as Alex. 

Slowly, never breaking eye contact, like he was asking for permission and waiting for Alex to give him the green light with a nod, Michael brought his hands to hold Alex’s cheeks, wiping the tears that were starting to fall. 

“Hey,” he repeated, as a whisper this time, as if speaking louder would break Alex. In all fairness, it was very likely to happen. Once the tears started falling, they didn’t stop. 

Alex broke eye contact for a brief moment, looking furtively at the dictionary, which didn’t go unnoticed by Michael. 

“Oh,” he exhaled slowly, rubbing his thumbs, still smiling softly. “It was a stupid thing, if you wanna repla–” 

He was interrupted by Alex kissing him. It was a very wet and salty kiss, but neither really minded. They had done dirtier things after all. 

“It’s not stupid,” Alex said with a snif as he broke away. “It all but stupid. I think it’s sweet.” He spoke as softly as Michael did, barely higher than a whisper. 

Michael placed his forehead against Alex’s his, his palms still on his cheeks, his fingers intertwining in Alex’s hair. “I thought the definition was more appropriate.” 

Alex hummed. “I love it.” He moved his hands up Michael’s bare arms and shoulders, “I love you.” 

“Love you too,” Michael replied, leaning in for a kiss. 

Alex’s plan of getting the weight off his leg was fulfilled, with Michael wrapping his arms around his legs and back, using his telekinesis to carry him into their bedroom. His plan of resting before dinner, however, completely flew out the window as soon as Michael’s towel dropped to the floor as he was standing up. 

But Alex didn’t care. Because he was home. He was in his favourite place across all galaxies: Michael’s arms. 

—

Home. 

Alex would argue that he was not, by nature, a competitive person. Growing up with three older brothers, everything had to be a competition: who was the fastest, who got the best grades, who could hold the plank the longest. Typical Manes family upbringing. 

In the air force, he climbed the ranks, doing as he was told, making sure the men who served under him were safe, and got medals for it. Others would probably do it to be the best; Alex just wanted to be the kind of guy who won battles. 

Some might say it was all the same thing, but Alex disagreed. He didn’t do it to be the best, didn’t do it to shadow his brothers, or even his father. No, he did it because he wanted to win. Wanted to show the world that he was worthy. Of what, well, his therapist had many theories. 

The thing that made Alex confident in saying he wasn’t competitive, by nature, was that he was quite content with being in the shadows. His entire job now consisted of top secret stuff no one could really know about.

One thing, however, that Alex could admit he was competitive about, was Michael. And more particularly, the cheesy lines that Michael would say to him. 

He knew that competition in a relationship could quickly end up not being healthy; and it once had been their case. He did sing about “not keeping score” anymore. 

However, not keeping score applied to the mess between them, the hurt and pain that had been present for a decade. Not the romantic little gestures. 

Like the flawless, emotionally wrenching love letter in a dictionary. 

So Alex decided, he needed – wanted – to do something equally as sweet and perfect as Michael’s redefinition of home. He simply needed to find the right time. 

—

The right time came about two weeks after Michael wrote in the dictionary. The dictionary was back in the bookshelf, and one day, Alex knew he was going to open it again, and rewrite a certain definition. But that day was not today. 

They still had time. Well, granted, life had thrown quite a lot of traumatic, relationship-breaking situations their way. But they came out of it all, stronger than ever. And they had agreed that they would go slow this time, enjoy all the first, and the seconds, and the thirds, before rushing into things. 

They didn’t want a repeat of last time. Of the last decade. 

So Alex decided to leave the dictionary alone, for a little while. But he still wanted to express his love to Michael, in a small gesture, that some might consider meaningless. 

It wouldn’t be meaningless to them. It would mean everything. It would mean that they did it, that Alex was truly living his ideal life. 

At first, he had thought of the gazebo. Of the ideal Roswell he had built with his mother. He didn’t want to live in a fantasy anymore. No, he wanted to live with Michael in the real Roswell.

Home. 

Whatever he did, he kept thinking back to that simple word. When he was working, when he was shopping, when he was driving, when he was seeing his friends. 

At work, he thought about finishing the day and going home. 

At the grocery store, he thought of his shopping list, for his fridge and pantry, in his home. 

When he was driving, he thought of driving home, even if he had just left the driveway mere seconds earlier. 

And when he was seeing his friends, he thought about where he had just come from, or where he would be going afterwards. Home. 

That’s when he got the idea. It didn’t feel like much, not at first. But eventually, after thinking about it, he realised. It was probably one of the biggest, and more public things he could do. 

Well, other than a public proposal at the gazebo, but that definitely didn’t feel like them. 

So he settled on his idea, and let time do its magic. 

—

Michael was unaware of Alex’s plan, or if he was, he was a better liar than Alex thought. Which, judging by how well he was starting to know Michael, he strongly doubted. 

And Alex needed Michael to be unaware, unsuspecting. It would only make the moment where he found out more magical. Because where Michael was spontaneous, Alex was calculative. He liked to make plans, and to see those plans through. Because when everything panned out, when everything worked out just as planned, Alex was proud, and happy. 

(And if things went off rails, he got sad and disappointed, but he was working with his therapist on that.)

Alex’s plan was now in motion, and seeing it all unfold without Michael being even slightly aware, it was a glorious moment. 

It started with the Evanses. He was having brunch with Isobel, which was now a habit they had, when Ann Evans had showed up, with her husband. They were both overly polite to Alex, thanking him for his service. He made conversation with them, as he had been trained with the years of military events, when Ann made a comment about succulents. 

Alex knew that the comment wasn’t made to him, obviously not. Something about men and taking care of plants, especially succulents. Which, he couldn’t really disagree with considering the longest plant he’d kept had been a plastic one. But still, he was starting to know a thing or two about succulents. 

“You need to rotate them once in a while.” he said, continuing to eat his egg on toast. He saw everyone turn their heads to him, so he continued. 

“And you shouldn’t use a spray to water them. It’s best to let them soak in water until the top of the soil is moist.” 

He saw Isobel smile at him, in that way that made him think she knew more than she let on. Alex knew what she wasn’t saying, just like him, the only knowledge she had on plants came from Michael who came over once a week to lecture her on plants. 

But neither Ann nor Dave Evans knew that. 

“Do you have plants, Alex?” asked Dave, in a polite tone of voice. 

Alex nodded, “Yeah, my boyfriend redecorated our home, it’s quite green now. And there’s a few succulents here and there.” 

If Ann or Dave had anything to say about the word boyfriend, they kept quiet. However, Ann had a few more questions about plants that, sadly, Alex couldn’t answer. 

“You should really ask Michael,” he interrupted, smiling politely at her, “He’s really the one who takes care of all the plants.” He looked at his watch, then back at Isobel. 

“Speaking of which, I told Michael I’d be home soon, so,” he stood up and went to hug Isobel, “I guess I’ll see around?” 

“Sure thing, tell Michael I say hi.” He hugged him back and whispered ‘I’m proud of you guys’ in his ear. He cleared his throat, and went to his car. 

And so it had begun. 

Over the next few days, every opportunity he could, he would mention Michael and the fact that he was his boyfriend, or the fact that they shared a home. It wasn’t easy, to let go of the years of shame and internalised homophobia, but it felt good. 

He wasn’t yet shouting it from the rooftops, but still. He said it to the people he knew wouldn’t attack them. Even if no one in their right minds would go after an air force captain, some people clearly lacked neurons. 

And Michael eventually noticed. He received messages from Ann Evans asking about succulents, which was a first on many different levels. But the thing he noticed the most, was Alex gradually being more free. They held hands more, they were sitting even more close to each other and the Crashdown or at the Wild Pony.

People were acting differently around him too. Clients came to the junkyard and made a few comments about settled life. He didn't think much of it at first, but eventually it clicked. Or, more accurately, he overheard Alex talking about him. 

It wasn't what it once had been. The pride in Alex's voice when he said the word boyfriend was palpable. The fear and anxiety about others finding out was slowly but surely leaving Alex alone, and Michael couldn't be prouder and happier.

Because he too wanted nothing more than to shout it from the rooftops. But he had understood where Alex was coming from, so he hadn't pushed; he had his own mess too after all. Now, however, they were both growing, creating the safe place they never got as kids, but desperately craved.

And Alex had been the first one to announce it to the world.

Home.

He wasn’t shouting it from the rooftop, but he was telling the world, bit by bit. 

Alex Manes had fought in three wars, climbed the ranks to become captain, had received many medals including a Purple Heart. He’d even lost his leg in doing so. 

Alex Manes was a war hero. The son, grandson, great-grandson, and brother to many other war heroes. He was a damn good soldier, and an even better hacker. 

Alex Manes is a boyfriend, and he lives with the man of his dreams, in the home that they are building together. He is a friend, a brother, and still a soldier and one of the best hackers. And definitely not a son. 

Alex Manes will one day be a husband, and maybe a father. He will still be a friend and a brother, but maybe not so much a soldier. 

Most importantly, Alex Manes has come home. And he wants to tell the whole universe.

[90stvshowgoth]

—BREAKING & ENTERING

—ch.1 —ch.2

summary: after dabi was seen leaving your apartment complex last week, the commission has sent a lesser known hero to help guard the building until new cameras are installed. however, no security measures in the world could keep dabi out.

w/c: 5064

tags: dubcon, cuckolding, creampie, voyeurism, humiliation, exhibitionism, arson

a/n: this is the final chapter to this little duology, and the reason why its so much shorter is because the first one was really supposed to stand on its own, but i got so many requests for a sequel i couldn’t help it. so i just took the kinks i didn’t get to use last time and pay off some setup and voila. however, just ‘cause this is the last chapter of this story doesn’t mean i’m not gonna write a fuck ton of other stuff for him. ily burn man. plus i’m working on a huge, multi-chapter fic for him while i post smaller one-shots >:) that being said, enjoy.

The impact Dabi left on your life was far bigger than you thought it would’ve been on the night you snuck him away from the law. As he was running from the cops someone saw him climb through your window, and a different person also saw him climb down the fire escape. With witnesses like that, the other tenants were downright furious.

You almost felt bad for the landlord, it wasn’t his fault you were insane enough to willingly let a villain come inside both you and your apartment.

Your landlord and the police department came up with a solution. The apartment complex would be installing new state-of-the-art locks on all fire-escape adjacent windows free of charge. This wasn’t exactly an issue with seeing Dabi again, since all you had to do was purposefully leave yours unlocked.

It would take two weeks to install all the cameras, but until then, a community-assigned hero would be stationed to guard the complex.

His name was Kao, a middle-ranked hero with bright orange hair and a winning smile framed with dimples. At first you thought he might’ve been one of the better heroes, waving you off to work and walking you there the other day, but recently he’d begun to creep you out. The friendly conversations about a tv show you both enjoyed began to turn into invasive questions about your love life.

A week of lingering glances and uncomfortable prying culminated that Friday as he had flat out asked you to dinner moments prior.

“C’mon, I just— I said that wrong, lemme try again,” He stuttered, keeping pace with you as you marched towards the building.

“No, Kao, look, you’re cool and all, but I’m really not looking to date anyone right now.” You huffed, striding into the doorway and towards the elevator. That might not’ve been the whole truth but you obviously couldn’t tell him that you had the hots for a terrorist.

He groaned, rubbing the back of his neck, “Well you just got off work, right? I remember which room you stay in, maybe I can swing by tonight?”

You whirled on him, your jaw slack in shock at the insensitivity of his words. The reminder that he knew where you lived sending a shiver down your spine, “Kao, this conversation is done. I don’t want you following me around anymore, hero,”

Deep down, your words sounded familiar. If they were raspier and said behind a thin veil of indifference, you might’ve realized that you were talking like Dabi.

“What is that supposed to mean? We’re the good guys!” You slammed your fist down on the close-door button, your mouth a thin line, daring Kao to make a move and stop the doors. He didn’t, and soon the reassuring pull of the elevator set your shaking body at ease.

‘Who does he think he is?’ You were bitter, rightfully so, you think.

You were so frustrated that you had difficulty inserting your keys into the lock, twisting it with a growl and throwing open the door, ready to collapse onto your pillow and vent to whoever was online about your heroic stalker.

When you noticed the scent of cigarettes in the air.

“Hey, doll,” Warmth surged through your chest at the sight of him, the villain’s feet kicked up onto the coffee table.

You were hanging your coat on the hook before moving beside him to the couch, “What took you so long?”

“Not happy to see me? You seem a lot bitchier than I remember,” The crude edge of his humor was a breath of fresh air compared to the stifling niceties of work, and you smiled for what felt like the first time that day.

Shaking your head, you toed out of your boots and made your way to the frayed couch, “I’ll tell you all about him,”

That got his attention, “Him?”

“A hero,” Dabi’s frown worsened, an accusatory look in his eyes, “before you ask, no, you idiot, I hate this guy, there’s not a chance I’d sleep with him.”

The tensity in his shoulders relaxed, bring the half-finished Newport to his lips as you continued, “Since you broke in last week all my neighbors lost their shit. They threatened to sue if my landlord didn’t assign a hero to watch the building for a bit. I thought he was cool, but I’ve just decided that he’s a total prick.”

He hummed, nodding understandingly, “Want me to kill him?”

You gaped, hitting him on the chest, “Wha—No, Dabi, what the hell?”

He just shrugged, the intensity of his words almost funny to you, and as you recounted the last twenty minutes the ashes of Dabi’s cigarette fell to the floor. The dying lights of the sun streamed through your window, the smoke oddly beautiful in the glow as he handed you the last hit of his cheap cigar.

“You know why heroes are like that?” You shook your head, enjoying the numbing calm of tobacco, “It’s cause they’re spoiled. They go their entire lives being praised for everything they do so they don’t know how to take no for a fuckin’ answer,”

Apparently your smoking buddy was feeling talkative, much to your delight. His words made you pause, remembering the relieved faces of your neighbors whenever they’d see the gaudy costume Kao wore as he strode by.

“Shit... guess you’re right,” You mumbled into his side, not minding the ever-present aroma of burnt skin and smoke that clung to Dabi’s coat.

He scoffed, “I’m always right, baby,” His words earning him a pinch on the arm.

“No, you ass, just about the hero stuff,” He grinned, the staples on his dimples taut against his skin as he pulled you closer, his breath hot against your ear.

“Careful, doll, you’re starting to sound like a villain,” The drop in your stomach sent heat down your skin, yet somehow you were still shivering under his predatory gaze.

You shook your head, trying to will away the red that dusted your cheeks, “No way, my quirk isn’t strong enough to be a villain,”

He raised his eyebrow expectantly, broadly gesturing for you to go on.

“Well...” God, why is this embarrassing? “I can give people headaches.”

You didn’t know if he would laugh at you or belittle you for your meaningless quirk, but he did neither.

“Think you could practice it more? Get better at it?” He was serious, staring at you and expecting an answer.

You looked away, unable to hold his gaze, “I mean, maybe? It’s not hard to do, I guess,”

Dabi smirked, pulling you onto his lap. It felt as if the week hadn’t happened at all and you were right back where you started, your face flushing at the memories of that night. He dragged you close, eyes dark as he whispered something into your ear...

“Think you could split someone’s head open with a migraine?”

Your gut wrenched, flinching at the gory idea and making you sit up in Dabi’s lap. The atmosphere in the room hadn’t changed, his stare as menacing as before.

That is, until he started to crack up. Louder than you’d ever heard before, his fit filled the apartment until he had to cup his stomach from laughing too hard; the wheeze in his rough throat echoing around the room as your blush spread all the way down your neck.

“Oh, you asshole!” If anything, your shove against his chest only made him more giddy. The panic-fueled adrenaline was still surging through your body, unwillingly making the wetness between your thighs spread, even as you tried to wrap your head around the fact that Dabi had been fucking with you.

Your legs shook as he held on to you for balance, his cackling dying down but the shit-eating grin never leaving his face, “You were so freaked out, huh?”

“Yeah, no shit!”

He hummed, running a hand through your hair and suddenly yanking you forward, basking in the sharp yelp it brought from you, “You’re cute when you’re scared,”

You’d missed the way his scabbed lips felt on yours more than you’d ever admit. There was something about him that left you breathless, eager and questioning your life choices. Groaning into his mouth before pulling back and laving your slick tongue along his disfigured lower lip, you rolled your aching heat against him to force a truly pornographic moan from his mouth.

“Oh, fuck—” One of his hands slid down your back, grabbing your ass through your jeans, “Fucking hell, you missed me that much?”

You nodded dumbly into his shoulder, pressing chaste kisses along the ragged skin as he slid his finger past the band of your jeans, cupping your dripping sex with wide eyes.

“Goddamn, s’no way you’re this wet for me already,” His eyes were scrutinizing, trying to figure out why you were hiding into his neck, “What’s got you so worked up, doll?”

You couldn’t come up with a good excuse in time, Dabi thinking back to how your thighs had tightened up when he asked if you could kill someone, your eyes were frightened back then, yes, but there was something else. Something you wouldn’t tell him.

When the realization hit him, it hit hard.

“Holy shit, you get off on being scared?” He couldn’t believe his luck, the embarrassed groan you buried into his shoulder confirming his suspicions.

Dabi ran a hand through his hair, a childish wonder over his features, “Aren’t I fuckin’ lucky?” He sneered, pulling you back til you were at eye-level again.

“I’m gonna try something, baby,” there was an edge to his voice as he settled one hand on the small of your back, pressing your tits against his chest as he held your bra strap back with the other.

“What are you… Dabi, what are you doing?” The scent of fire and burning fabric filled the air, the ends of your bralette smoking between his fingertips, embers turning to ash and sprinkling down the couch until it was flimsy enough for Dabi to rip free, teeth sinking into your neck as he held you still to keep your skin safe.

It was jarring and a bit terrifying to be restrained against someone like Dabi without knowing his intentions. But nothing in you could deny the blinding rush of pleasure it ripped down your spine.

“It’s all starting to make sense, doll-face, I guess I was right the first time,” His hands tossed the smoking bra into hallway, reaching between you and torturously pinching and pulling on the rosy blush of your tits, “you do have a thing for villains,”

“Can’t wait to fuck that tight pussy again, doll,” Without warning he shoved your torso forward, your body bouncing against the couch, his hands flying to the button of your jeans.

“—Didn’t have time to take you right last time, didn’t get to taste you,” his words made you whimper in his grasp, keeping your legs somewhat raised as tugged down the tight denim.

You fully expected him to take you rough like before, make you choke on his cock before having his fill, but as he tugged off your black panties he crawled down the trembling body beneath him, slowly moving over your ribs, your stomach, and finally your drooling cunt.

He never broke eye contact with you as he pulled your thighs closer, keeping them spread wide as the hot fan of his breath on your pussy sent a thrill through your neglected nerves.

“I want you to scream my name,” It was an order, not a request. The unhinged tremor in his hands was unsettling, an unspoken threat hanging in the air.

Dabi’s tongue immediately found your clit, mouth wrapping around the glistening bead and sucking all at once, the moan it drew from your lips unholy. He moaned at the taste, hiking up your hips onto his shoulders.

“Christ, you’re sweet, doll, like fuckin’ candy...” He muttered in disbelief, more to himself that to you, licking a wide stripe along your drenched lips, diving into you deep enough to have your limbs spasming around him.

On instinct your hand flew to your mouth to muffle the sharp cry that the villain drew. He didn’t warn you before bringing his hand up high and slapping it into the bare skin of your thigh, a scream echoing through the living room. Distantly, you wondered if your neighbors could hear...

“Don’t you dare hide a single sound from me, slut, or this ends now,” his ultimatum was scary but the insult felt heavy in a way you’d never felt before, and you nodded without a second thought, breathlessly bunching one hand into the arm of the couch above you and the other into the ashy black of his hair.

You nodded down to him, silently saying to continue; the villain fixed on watching as your chest swelled in time with your breathing, a rush of blood going to the heat of his cock.

His pace was hungry, nipping at your thighs whenever he thought you were too comfortable, spinning circles into your clit with his tongue and chuckling at the noises it brought, “You gonna cum, princess?” You could only respond with a scream of his name, the plea music to his ears, but he needed you to be louder if he was to get what he wanted.

“Louder,” Dabi called your name like a prayer, moaning into your cunt as you practically suffocated him between your thighs, “Fuck—Louder, baby, scream it,”

“Dabi!!” Your orgasm was hot against his tongue and he drank in every last drop of your climax until you were wrenching away his greedy mouth, your pussy swollen and red from his care.

Just as you started to compose yourself, a frantic banging sounded on the door. Someone from the hallway was slamming down their fist, screaming your name.

“Hey! Did you just say Dabi?! Are you okay in there?” It was Kao.

Horror clawed away any kind of afterglow as you cupped your hand to your mouth, leaning up on your elbow and whispering, “What do I say?”

Dabi’s voice was just low enough to hide behind the pounding of Kao’s fists, “Do you trust me?”

Before you could answer the hero behind the wall called your name again.

“If you don’t answer me in five seconds I’m breaking this door down!”

Your gaze flickered from the front door to the villain that was wiping your slick from his chin.

“Yes,”

Dabi grinned, grabbing your wrists and holding you against his shirt, one hand wrapped painfully around your tits and the other erupting with blue fire in his palm.

“Come and get her, hero!” You made a confused squeal, thrashing around in his grasp, eyes wide and afraid as Dabi shushed into your ear, trying to calm you down.

‘Like hell if you’d calm down, he’d practically just signed your death sentence!’ you heaved against the fugitive, trying to shake yourself free to no avail.

All you could do was squeeze your eyes shut and imagine you were somewhere else as door was jolted in its hinges, the doorknob falling with a distant clang, and before you could beg Dabi to stop whatever stupid game he was playing, Kao ran into the room, eyes furrowed and fists raised as the door squeaked on the loose hinges behind him, blissfully unaware.

“Where are y—“ Kao’s voice paused mid-sentence, you flinched in Dabi’s hold, the heat of the redhead’s stare washing over you, naked and wet, making you tilt your head down, trying to hide yourself from the world.

“Isn’t she cute, hero?” Dabi rasped against you, the heat of his fire illuminated against the sweaty sheen of your trembling body. Kao didn’t know what to do, flustered and struggling to hide the tent in his latex costume.

You knew fighting back against the villain was pointless, falling limp in the strength of his arms as he chuckled into your neck, looking over at the bump in his pants, “You were right, babe, I think he likes you,”

“Get your filthy hands off of her!” Kao screamed, diving towards the couch with his fist raised back.

Dabi simply grinned, carefully hovering his flame ever closer to your now bare tits, you couldn’t help but scream at the proximity, and whatever plan Kao had in his mind died before his fist could make impact.

His novocaine laced voice spoke calmly beside your ear, “Any closer and she’s dead,” The hot rush down your legs wasn’t due to his flames, as one hand took to rubbing your sensitive sex, the sounds it elicited from you unintentional and mortifying under the presence of Kao in the room.

“What... what do you want, you bastard?” Dabi laughed at that one, tweaking your clit between his fingers and conducting the most beautiful notes from your pillowy lips.

“I think It’s pretty obvious what I want, don’t you think?” Your name on his lips sent you keening against him despite the inferno roaring inches away from your skin. He couldn’t move without Dabi’s flames hovering ever closer to your heaving chest, and to Kao, you were very clearly about to die. Although you didn’t believe Dabi would hurt you, he had asked you to trust him before he got Kao’s attention, after all, the line between foreplay and conflagration was becoming blurry.

Kao backed up into the half wall that separated the living room from the kitchen, barely making an effort to try and hide his erection anymore, “I’ll send you to fucking Tartarus for this, Dabi.”

“Oooo, scary,” His unlit hand trailed down your jawline, tilting you to his side until he could slide his tongue into your open lips, humming into your mouth, “What do you think, doll?

“Dabi, please... wait,“ The strength in your voice wasn’t as heated as before, and even you had to admit it sounded half-assed.

Kao’s quirk must be no good for long range because all he could do was stand there, trying to avert his eyes from your drooling cunt in favor of glaring daggers at the coy villain pulling soft mewls from your lips, “I swear... I’ll see you rot in prison for this. You’ll be fucking executed, you rapist—“

“—woah, woah, that stings, hero. Doll, is that really what I’m doin’?” You groaned, not exactly answering because you couldn’t hear the question, your eyes still shut tight in embarrassment.

The growl in his voice sent another soaking rush towards your pussy, as his hand grabbed you jaw, pulling you up, “Look at me,” Your eyes widened at the sight of Dabi so close to you, his chest warm against your back, the aches of your last orgasm fading into something new.

“Tell me to stop, princess, your call,” Time stood still as Dabi kissed a soft pathway along your neck, weirdly gentle as he listened for your response, his clothed hard-on pressed firmly against your ass.

Too flustered to speak, you merely wrenched your arm free from his grasp, carding you hand through his hair and pulling him to your desperate lips. You could feel him tug into a smirk against you as your hips eagerly ground themselves on him despite the audience.

Kao choked on his own spit, stepping backwards, but stopped when Dabi aimed his ignited hand towards the hero who was having difficulty piecing together your actions in his head. “What,” His voice cracked when he called out your name, “are you...?”

Dabi pulled away, a feral glint in the blue hidden beneath his hair as he licked a disgustingly wet stripe along your cheek, chest rumbling behind you as you squirmed at the gross feeling, “I’m still gonna need you to beg, sweetheart.”

Your dignity was hanging by a thread, hinging on whether or not you followed his lead, but the insane buzz your anxiety had stirred up under Kao’s confused stare and Dabi’s aching cock was impossible to ignore. He rut himself into the dripping curve of your ass, his jeans soaked with your slick as you found the courage to speak.

“Fuh...” Carefully, Dabi pressed a loving kiss to your temple, his stare fixated on Kao’s as you strung the syllables together, “Fuck me, Dabi,”

The hero couldn’t believe his ears. She’d turned him down countless times despite his pursuits, yet she was somehow fine with this? Kao briefly thought that perhaps his crush was a villain this whole time, but that couldn’t make sense with her weak quirk.

You felt Dabi twitch beneath you, the shameless way you showed yourself off was as humiliating as it was hot, and he laughed in lightheaded disbelief against the back of your neck, taking your ass in one hand and slipping the other down his pants, tugging off the painful metal zipper until his boxers were pulled down just enough for his cock to finally be met with the soft warmth of your cunt.

“As the lady commands,” Dabi grinned, reaching around your waist to take his pierced dick in his hand, rubbing and tapping his swollen head deliberately against your clit, pre-cum drenching your pussy as you felt boneless in his arms.

“Ah-! St..S-top tea-sing, Dabi!” You babbled, squirming to try and find an escape from his grasp or maybe trying to force him inside you, but all your struggling did was make him harder. But before you could beg, you froze at the sight of Kao a few feet away, his legs bending into a sprinter’s pose. He was going to run?

Dabi was having none of it, a controlled jet of flame grazing Kao’s knee, scalding the skin beneath the latex. The hero cried out into the bite of his fist, collapsing into the wall a few feet away.

“Nah, hero. You’re not leaving just yet,” The villain rearranged you on his lap, “See, the thought of you jerking off to my girl? It kinda pisses me off, actually,”

The color in Kao’s face drained as he had no choice but to sit and watch as Dabi slowly sunk you down on top of him, one hand drawing soft circles into your stomach as you reveled in the feeling of his piercings hot against every part of you.

“Though, I’m wondering, what did you think about, huh?” Kao sputtered, unable to form words just like you, formless noises falling from your lips.

His scarred hands grasped at the flesh of your thighs, raising you up only to shove you back onto his cock, the flames that still extended to threaten Kao suddenly flared up in time with his thrusts, the weight of him felt so much deeper at this angle and it was hard to breathe, let alone speak.

“I... nothing! I didn’t—“ Another whip of fire cut through the room from Dabi’s fingertips, a cast of blue leaving bubbling skin in its wake, pain flashing across Kao’s face.

“Fuckin’ liar,” You yelped as Dabi shoved you down, moaning into your ear as you squeezed against him, sobbing his name into his chest as he picked up a steady pace in your guts.

Kao cried out, stuttering and gripping along the inflamed line of skin, “I-I thought— thought about her... fuck— I just wanted her to suck me off, alright? There, I said it! Are you happy now?”

He must’ve realized the mistake in his words as soon as he said them, squeezing your eyes shut but having no choice but to smell the stench of burning flesh and hear the sound of muffled screaming as it filled your apartment, “Can’t blame you though, her mouth is God,”

Your hands scrambled for balance against Dabi as the screaming of his victim made him downright feral, filling your tight heat so well it had you crying.

“Damn, you’re soaked for me, doll, I just knew you were a kinky fuck deep down. You’re a slutty little girl for me, aren’t ya?”

As much as it hurt to admit it, he was right. He was painfully right, and you told him so. The unhinged, unstoppable force that was Dabi ignited a passion in you that’d never been fed before. He was torturing the hero you hated all while taking your cunt in deep, harsh thrusts, the metal imbedded into his cock and his chest behind you were blisteringly hot against your skin.

“Tell him, baby,” His question fell on deaf ears, your tongue lolling from your mouth a bit at the pleasure.

It caught you off guard when he drew his hand back and slapped you across the cheek, a blistering red handprint in its wake, saying your name so softly, turning off his quirk to run his hands through your hair, he whispered, “Tell that fucking hero who you belong to,”

The world tipped over as Dabi gripped your shoulders, pushing you onto the wooden coffee table so your ass stuck in the air. In an instant he was on you again, pounding into your cunt with a glazed fervor, your words downright biblical in his ears.

“On-ly... Dabi ca—Ngh, Only Dabi can fuck me this good,” You forced the words from your throat, thankful for the table serving as an impartial shoulder to cry on as Dabi lined himself up with your cunt.

“More, princess,” The snap of his hips had you drooling onto the table, catching sight of Kao’s slumped body in the corner as Dabi’s breath sounded much louder than before.

“Fuck, baby—” You cried, craning your neck back to look at him. Sweat glistened at the crown of his dark hair, steam shading his breath as he took you hard, “Your cock is— shit its so deep in me,”

Your nerves were spent from exhaustion as he railed you, being more vocal than before as he choked at the feeling of your walls tightening around him, his fingernails digging future bruises into your hip dips, “Wanna feel you cum in me, want you to fill me up— Dabi, wanna make you feel good,”

“Fuck, doll, I can’t...” He ground his teeth together, making you squeal as he mounted you from behind, spreading your legs out wide so you had no way to hide yourself, “Gonna fuck’n cum-gonna cum in you- fuck, fuck, fuck—!“

You both hit your highs at the same time, Dabi accidentally digging your face into the wood as he held you as tightly to him as possible, his cum running hot due to his quirk as he pumped you full, that broken cry of yours like music to his ears, humping you a few times to ride out his climax.

You felt warm and safe, Dabi’s weight a comfortable blanket even with your shivering skin pressed naked into the coffee table. However, the quietly groaning hero in the corner made you quickly come back down to earth.

“Dabi... did you kill him?” Your voice was small beneath him, but he just shrugged.

“Nah, not yet, don’t worry,” He kissed your neck one more time, his thumb rubbing circles into your indented stomach, pulling you off the table and back into his arms.

He pulled out of you and grinned at the sight of his release spilling down your thighs, “Damn...” he whispered, taking in the sight with a satisfied whistle, “C’mon Doll, forget about him.”

You were grateful he carried you bridal style to your bedroom, your legs gelatin at this point, and as he laid you down to rest he grabbed one of your discarded shirts that hadn’t made it to the hamper and wiped down the remains of sex from your twitching cunt before leaving the cum-stained top ignored on the ground.

“You doing good, baby? Didn’t go too hard, did I?” His concern was diminished somewhat by the grin on his face, satisfied with the mumbling, love-drunk form he’d reduced you to.

Shaking your head, you burrowed into the warm blankets, peeking your eyes out from beyond the covers in a way that even Dabi couldn’t deny was pretty cute, “No, just... what are you gonna do with Kao?”

His face was unreadable as he leaned closer, “Do you really want to know?”

Truth be told, no, you didn’t, you were just a civilian, far removed from the complex fight between heroes and villains. You were only in this situation because you’d grown to care about Dabi. In some small, sarcastic way, he’d wormed his way into your life, and he hadn’t hurt you so far, only going as close as possible to bring you over the edge again and again.

“No...”

“Good answer,” he stood up, tucking himself back into his jeans as he went back into the living room. You heard a muffled thud and what sounded like Dabi cursing before he reappeared in your bedroom, Kao’s unconscious body slung over his shoulder. For such a wiry guy, Dabi was pretty strong. Moving to the open window he basically threw Kao’s body onto the outside metal grating, his lungs uneven after carrying him.

Just as he swung his leg onto the windowsill you shot up in your bed, hand outstretched, “Wait!”

He turned back to look at you, genuinely confused as to what you could want.

“Kiss me before you go?”

He froze, then grinned, scoffing at the innocent gesture you gave so openly to a murderer like him. There had to be something wrong with his little villain-in-training to make her okay with it, just like him. Dabi ignored that thought for another day, striding forward and finally giving you the goodbye kiss you’d been denied last time, his tongue trying to map out every detail in case he could ever forget before pulling away with a warm softness to his ocean eyes.

“I think I might be starting to like you, Doll,” A feint rush of color fell on his unmarred skin and you’re sure your heart stopped beating for a good three seconds.

His words were a worn record being played over and over in your head long after he crawled down your fire escape, the teasing, sated haze in his voice hidden beneath a rasp of smoke. You weren’t sure how much he meant what he said, but you’re sure that the first thing you said in return was exactly what he wanted to hear; at least judging from the boyish smile that lit up his face when you said it.

“Come back soon, okay?”

“Okay,”

@effmigentlywithachainsaw @touyasfatcock @thicchaikyuuboys @awritersometimes @chey-the-simp