#I’m going to throw up I’m genuinely so distraught

[enobariasteeth]

holy shit

[manygreetingsfriend]

.

[emmyrosee]

He doesn’t feel right. He shouldn’t be doing this.

Kiyoomi isn’t exactly the best with the relationship thing; be it friends, or family, or intimate, he’s left a lot of that to Motoya- the “nice” one.

It never really bothered him that Motoya was considered ‘nicer’ than him, Kiyoomi knew his heart’s reasonings for picking and choosing who and what to have empathy and respect for; just because Komori had less of a sense for it, doesn’t mean he’s ‘nicer.’

And then you crashed into Sakusa Kiyoomi’s life.

With no remorse or sympathy, you strut your way into Kiyoomi’s life like you owned the rental space in his heart and mind, like you were meant to be there all along, and despite never, ever having been in genuine love before, your presence felt natural to the unnatural and unpredictable world.

And he feels absolutely terrible he probably demolished that.

More so because you deserve better; he doesn’t feel sorry for himself that he probably lost the best thing that ever happened to him. You don’t deserve his malice, and tonight, that’s all he subjected you to.

So, against all his logic and his mind begging him to stay and let you have your space, his heart refuses. It yearns for you, it craves you, wants to know you’re okay and that he supports you if you’ve fallen out of love with him.

Because sure, kiyoomi hates sleeping on couches. But he hates sleeping without you more.

Shambling into the living room- only stubbing his toe once or twice, impressive even to him- he manages to make his way to your quivering frame, and he swallows thickly at the distraught mess he’s made you.

“Hey,” kiyoomi sighs, watching with a wince as you scrub your eyes. They’re so swollen, and they leave tears along your fingers, but he says nothing about it, not wanting you to feel worse.

“I’m sorry!” You choke. “Did I wake you? I should’ve been quiet. You need your sleep, you have to-“

“Stop,” he croaks, the lump in his throat bubbling up. “Don’t apologize.” He’s the one that kicked you out of your own bedroom, and you’re standing there, apologizing to him?

He’s amazed you haven’t left him yet.

If he were you, he would’ve. This would be the final straw, the end all of your relationship. He’d pack up all his shit, throw it in a suitcase and absolutely book it out of the house. He’d slash a hole in three of your tires, because all four means you don’t have to pay for them, so three is for the best revenge, and he’d go fuck your cousin who’s so much nicer than you could ever be, and-

“Kiyoomi?”

“Three,” he says suddenly, cheeks flushing hot when he realizes you have no clue what he’s talking about. He clears his throat and scrubs his face with his large hands. “I’m… I wanted to come and apologize.”

Immediately, your heaving sobs come to an end, tears dribbling down your face and falling from your chin once they gain enough weight and momentum. He gives you a shaky sigh, “I never…” he forces the lump down his throat as best as he can, “I never should’ve snapped at you like that, or kept you away from your own bed; you… you’ve never done that to me, even if I’ve deserved it.”

You still say nothing, eyes glimmering up at him in bewilderment. He should shut up, he knows, but he wants to put all the cards down because you don’t have to forgive him- you deserve to have whatever closure you need to take.

Even if that is slashing three of his tires.

“You don’t have to justify me being malicious,” he continues with a shaky sigh. “I’ve had people my whole life do that, and I’ve let them. You don’t have to- I never should’ve turned you away like that.”

“So you’ve said,” you croak. Your head turns to avoid his gaze, and after a few moments, your shoulders start to heave again. “It…” you snarl softly, “it was never about the bed, Kiyoomi. You sent me away… did I really make you that mad?”

“No,” he says, crouching down to make himself smaller, more approachable than his usual 190.5 centimeter frame. “That’s on me, baby. That has nothing to do with you. I’m the one who betrayed that trust and blew everything far out of proportion.” His head ducks to try and meet your gaze, mumbling a soft ‘can I touch you?’ and he’s unsurprised when you shake your head ‘no.’

You do, however, turn to look at him, and it makes his heart pound even more than it already was- a task he thought was impossible, but here you were, proving that theory wrong.

“I didn’t do anything to you,” you whimper. He nods, looking down shamefully. Your breathing is ragged, “you’re the one who threw me aside. I tried, Kiyoomi, I tried to apologize and make you forgive me, and you rejected it.” Once again, he says nothing. “You’ve never been so mad where you… where you didn’t w-want me.”

He disobeys your wishes and places a loving hand on your knee, shaking his head. “Don’t be like that.” He blinks his own line of tears down, and even if he doesn’t deserve a lick of your kindness, you reach out to wipe it away. “Stop blaming yourself for the shit I’ve done; it was selfish, and I didn’t think about you, or us, and I was an idiot.”

He squeezes your knee, “but I always will want you. Even if I didn’t show it tonight.” Your hand trembles against his soft cheek, thumb grazing along the stubble that grows. You look him up and down, almost processing his apology and deciphering if it’s good enough.

“You fucked up,” you say finally. Despite himself, he gives you a soft chuckle.

“I know.”

“Don’t be this person, Kiyoomi,” you say, a pleading lilt to your voice. “I don’t want to play these games with you. We’re adults. You can’t shut me out because you get mad at me.”

“I know,” he says quietly. Then, he stands up, “I understand if… if you still want to be alone. I just wanted to you know that no matter what I say or do, I love you. And I appreciate you for always being here.”

Always here. Always watching him. Always loving him.

“I want to come to bed.”

His ears perk up at your sudden, soft words, and he gives you a small smile and a nod, his hand extending out to gently take yours if you’ll let him. A chill runs through him when you indeed lace your fingers in his, pulling yourself up to walk your exhausted frames to the bedroom. He feels your face nuzzle into the muscle of his bicep, and he casts you a puzzled look.

“It’s going to take some time to trust you again,” you mumble softly, squeezing the muscles in his arm as if to plead him to not go away or chastise your ‘demands.’

Hardly demands, but he understands your hesitation.

“Yeah?” He hums, planting a kiss to your head. To make you laugh for the first time in hours, he gently tugs you closer to him and leans his entire weight on you, quickly swaying you both to flop onto the bed; this does have you giggling, pitching when the mattress squeals under the weight of both of you. He kisses your head once more, then moving his kiss to your lips, sighing when you reciprocate the affection back.

“The rest of your life sound okay?”

————

this is the ending I chose, if you don’t like it, I don’t know what to tell you 🥲🫡 but a part two wouldn’t have been possible without your encouragement and support, and I’m forever thankful for the encouragement from everyone who took the time to either want to be tagged, or read the piece whenever they get the chance.

Mwah 💋

@captainchrisstan

@soleilstice

@lucacangettathisass

@harukamisato

@i-x4o

@muite

[eczlipse]

hii julie!! pleek serve me some han angst w a happy ish ending🧎🏻‍♀️im a sucker for mutual pining and skater han.

please make sure you rest and dont overwork yourself :33 <3

HARD TO LOVE - H.J (REQ)

genre + warnings : angst + smut, use of dr0gs, skater!han, pining. unsafe s3x, - PLEASE USE PROTECTION. not proof-read !!! lowercase intended.

wc : 1.4k

pairing : skater!han x fem!reader, shitty(ish)!han

it had already been a couple weeks since you and jisung supposedly had confessed your ‘feelings’ to each other. he’d been your type, over your height, funny, great style and he happened to skate as well— made it both better and scarier, skater boys never had the best history when it came to dating. being with him was hard, he always had you confused on if or not he liked you. always leaving you on delivered or simply missing eachother’s texts and calls.

in this case, it had been a week of missing eachother constantly, you text him.

y/n , 5:14 pm

jiji, where r u ? can we hang out or something ?

you waited impatiently for an answer— god was he hard to reach. you’d find yourself rethinking everything. was he really worth it ? you liked him so much, stressed so much— yet you couldn’t bring yourself to end it when things got tough. your train of thought stops as you here a ‘ding’ on your phone.

jiji , 5:27 pm

hi beautiful, im out rn alone @ the skate parkk .. i’ll text you the address ?

he then sent you a link to the location as you put a thumbs up reaction to his message. you picked up your bike ride your way to his location. it was a couple minutes away so you’d arrived quickly. as you parked your bike at the entrance area, you could see his slouched figure sitting on one of the skating structures. you smiled at him, walked up to him and decided to scare him.

- boo!

you said harshly while scaring him out of his blank thoughts— he flinched whilst smiling up at you.

- hey— you made it. i missed you.

he admitted, hugging your small frame into his arms as you sunk into him.

- really, did you ? you barely text me anymore… i missed you too.

you hummed as you sat down on the same edge as him.

- uhm, yeah i’ve been really busy with work and skating and stuff.

yet he barely had any time for you. you wanted to let out all you felt torwards him, anger, happiness, love and more. you had to be civil.

- jisung, you could’ve at least told me all that instead of leaving me on delivered, hm’?

he simply ignored your question, and continued.

- maybe a blunt’ll make you feel less stressed— hm?

he showed you two rolls, attempting to hand them over to you. was he being serious? after a whole week of ignoring you, this is what you got back. you doubted jisung even liked you at this point, his mannerisms were off and there simply had to be something else going on. and it wasn’t about you and him. maybe if you took it, he’d be more honest. hopefully in a good way.

- if i take it, will you genuinely talk to me ?

he hummed, smiling at you and handing you a roll. he then pulled out his lighter and lit both of your blunts. you inhaled the smells at first and finally went in and took a puff. one, then two, and up to three. exhaling, you felt your high coming in.

- fuck—

you slithered under your breath. jisung didn’t seem affected by it too much, this was probably your second time ever consuming.

- i didn’t want to talk to you because i was scared. it feels like you don’t like me.

jisung breathed as he looked at your distraught face. you looked dizzy.

- why the hell wouldn’t i’ ? you’re the one who… who never text’ me..

you slithered your words once more while pointing at him. your expressions dropped, you suddenly felt sad.

- maybe we just need some time alone.

he spoke once more, you weren’t even sure what you were hearing from him.

- you can’t talk to me while i’m— this high.

you coughed, throwing the blunt else where.

- hey! that’s mine!

he yelled at you.

- so what if it’s yours ? you care about that , right now ? what about me jisung, hmm? what about me ? you’re trying to leave me while i’m high. you’re fucked up.

- no, you know what’s fucked up ? you never even wondering if i’m okay.

he added, jisung’s eyebrows furrowed at your sudden reaction. he couldn’t believe you, you couldn’t believe him.

- oh, bullshit. i stopped spamming you because obviously— you don’t wanna be bothered. and i don’t want to either right now. fuck you.

- whatever.

he grabbed his skateboard and skated away, far away from you. what was wrong with him. getting you high? just to leave. from there on out, you both knew you disliked eachother right now. and there was no coming back from this.

as days passed after that upsetting argument, you and jisung hadn’t spoken. you didn’t want to hear from him whatsoever. you felt lonely, and as if you were the problem. he disappointed you deeply, you couldn’t help but cry in your dorm every now and then remembering that evening. you’d drown yourself in alcohol, ignore everyone around you and just, wait. wait for what exactly ? your happiness to come back. you’d feel better when you were with him, even if he’d treat you badly, you knew you liked him so much.

jisung spent his time trying to forget about you. yet to him, you were the most alluring person on earth. your charm, beauty personality and all of it. he hated himself for the way he acted towards you and regretted everything. a part of him wanted to run back to you, beg for forgiveness and start all over again. but it all seemed impossible. his friends encouraged him to at least try, try talking to you. he was scared, very scared. but, he didn’t want to leave it like this.

if it were to end, he would want it to be clear. not left alone for the air to decide. after a while of thinking , he brought himself to going over to your dorm. he didn’t want it to end it like this , not having to see you again. at that, he grabbed his skateboard and ran out the door, hoping for his plan to work— apologize, ask for another chance and hopefully end happily ever after ? he questioned himself but for you he needed to get those doubts away.

as he got closer to your house, he began skating faster. speeding up. as he arrived to the building, he ran up the stairs to your dorm. it took him a while to arrive but when he did, he’d hoped it was all worth it. he banged on your door.

at the sound, you’d almost jumped out of your seat— who was it ? you thought. getting up, you brought yourself to the door and slowly opened it. you saw jisung’s face and that beanie of his, god he always wore that. your face had dropped, you felt shocked to have seen him after so long.

- wh- what are you doing here jisung?

you mumbled under your breath, avoiding eye contact with the man in front of you.

- i- y/n, i’m so sorry for the other night. i didn’t mean what i said , i like you so much it almost hurts— i just- i want what’s best for you, i’m shitty and i know i am and i’m so sorry… y- you don’t deserve this at all and i’m so disappointed i had to make you go through this, i—

he stumbled over his words, his voice cracked as he continued— he was nervous and genuine. you couldn’t help but smile at his antics and interrupt him.

- it’s okay. don’t worry , i’m glad you came over and—

jisung cut you off with a tender kiss on the lips, you melted onto his lips as your tongues moved together. he slowly let himself into your dorm as you kissed him passionately. this had been the first time you both shared a kiss. your eyes met once you both pulled away. he began fumbling getting his hoodie off as he asked you a question.

- can i— please ?

you smiled at him and hummed in response, he began trailing his hands around your body as he slowly began taking off your tank top. as your tank top was thrown on the floor, you brought each other to the living room as he unclapsed your bra and trailed kisses on your soft skin.

your bodies felt each other getting hotter, you’d both wanted more. you slid your hands down to his groin, unbuckling his belt and his jeans— you wanted him in you.

- please’

you whimpered at him, tugging on his boxers. he smirked at your needy frame and began preparing himself for entrance. jisung slowly stroked himself, trying not to let any groans out just yet— soon enough he aligned himself to your entrance and slid himself into you, letting out a sudden moan from you.

as he thrusted into you, you moaned at every push, grabbing onto his arms as your grip tightened on him— that only turned him on more. jisung whispered soft moans into your ears as he lowered his body down to you. the feeling of him inside you, the way he held your hand as he thrusted into you— only made you want him more.

- fuck’ mmgh’—

he moaned under his breath, feeling himself get closer. you whimpered at his sounds as he began fastening his pace into you. your sudden gasps had him going faster, you felt your orgasm come as soon as his as you came together letting out loud moans of pleasure. he pulled out of you, his seed dripping more and more.

jisung then fell onto you, kissing you once more before speaking again.

- hm… i think we’re cool right ?

he snickered.

- shut up jiji.

you chuckled while fluffing up his hair. jisung was yours, and you were his. your bodies felt intertwined to eachother after such an erotic orgasm.

[astrowaffles]

Moonlight

General Audiences | JJK Actor AU

“Who did you kiss at midnight?”

“I kissed my wife,” Toji shrugged. “I wasn’t at the New Year’s party, I was at home.”

“Oh, there was a party?”

“How do you think everyone ended up knowing everyone else’s business?” he snorted. “Especially Megumi’s. That poor kid…”

“Everyone keeps mentioning Megumi’s kiss! Do you know who it was?”

“Oh, no, it’s not something I’d ask,” Toji backtracked. “Like I say, I was at home with my wife. I’m really too old to be on this set, I’m probably the oldest by like ten years.”

“Really? How old is Mr Gojo?”

“God, I don’t know. He isn’t thirty yet.”

“And no-one except you is married, is that right?”

“I’ve never asked, but I don’t think anyone else wears a wedding ring,” Toji agreed. “Makes New Year’s all the more fun, eh?”

OR: the cast answer the question: “Who did you kiss at midnight?”

“Who did you kiss at midnight?”

AUTHOR'S NOTE: mechamaru's real name is Kokichi Muta.

“I was under the table eating grapes,” Nobara confessed. “And to be honest, I don’t think it’s worked. I’m still as single as ever, a whole week in.”

“Do you think that’ll change?” the interviewer asked. Nobara laughed.

“Listen, if people don’t want all this-“ she gestured to herself – “then what can we do? They’ll just have to suffer their lonely, empty lives. I’m not suffering, I already have myself.”

“So it’s just a bit of fun?”

“Yeah, I don’t really take these superstitions seriously-“

“-And that’s why she was genuinely distraught that it didn’t work,” Megumi interrupted, handing Nobara a scrunchie.

“Distraught?! I wasn’t distraught!”

“Tie your hair up, you’ve got a fake wound to put on. And yes you were, you were clinging to poor Satoru for dear life. His Versace shirt got wet, and he had to throw it away.”

“Why did he throw away a perfectly good shirt just because it was wet?” Nobara asked, distracted.

“He’s just like that. Are you gonna tie your hair up? We have places to be.”

“But I was talking to the interview lady!”

“No, no, it’s alright,” the interviewer assured them. “I’ll catch up with you later.”

“Hmph.” Nobara dragged as much hair as she could into a ponytail at the base of her skull, and then grabbed Megumi’s arm. “Let’s go then. You’ve probably got fake blood to be dripped on you. You’ve always got fake blood to be dripped on you.”

-

-

“What’s this obsession with kissing people? I think I was with Yu at midnight,” Nanami said, looking thoughtful.

“As in, Yu Haibara?” the interviewer clarified.

“Yeah. I guess it’s confusing, having both Yuji and Yu on set at the same time. And Yuta’s meant to be here soon… Anyway, I’m pretty sure we were watching the countdown – he was talking about otters, I think…?”

-

-

“I kissed my beautiful girlfriend,” Shoko smiled. “It’s going to be a good year this year!”

-

-

“It’s a secret,” Gojo winked.

“Does that mean you didn’t kiss anyone?” asked the interviewer cheekily.

Gojo laughed. “You can think whatever you want, honey. I just know I’m not ready to tell the world who I kissed.”

-

-

“I kissed Miwa!” Kokichi grinned, arm slung around his girlfriend.

She giggled. “Here’s to another year!”

-

-

“Why, are you volunteering?” Toge asked, eyebrow raised.

The interviewer gawped. “What?”

Toge cackled.

“He’s kidding,” Yuta sighed. “I think.”

“I’m kidding,” Toge agreed, wiping a tear from his eye. “I am completely single and not looking to change that, thank you so much.”

“So you didn’t kiss anyone at midnight?” the interviewer checked.

“Not a soul. Would’ve smudged my face paint,” Toge confirmed. “I don’t think many people kissed, but Nobara was definitely eating grapes under the table, so maybe that’ll be different next year.”

“Kokichi did,” Yuta mused.

“He literally has a whole girlfriend, of course he did.”

“Megumi did.”

“Megumi di- MEGUMI DID?!” Toge turned to look Yuta full in the face, horrified. “WHO DID HE KISS?”

“If he hasn’t told you, that means he didn’t want to know,” Yuta shrugged, looking slightly embarrassed. “I probably shouldn’t have told you.”

“If I find out he’s been hiding this on purpose, the little shit-“

“Please mind your language on camera,” the interviewer chided gently.

“My bad. I’m just gonna- gonna go see Megumi for a minute.” Toge swivelled his head around the room, eyeing everyone beadily.

“He’s in the break room,” Yuta said helpfully, and then realised what he’d said. “Whoops.”

“Thanks, Yuta. I knew I could count on you.” With a pat to Yuta’s shoulder, Toge stalked off, looking furious.

Yuta turned back to the camera. “They grew up together,” he explained.

“Did you kiss anyone at midnight, Mr Okkotsu?” the interviewer enquired, clearly desperate to get the interview back on track.

“Who, me?” Yuta rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. “Uh…”

“He actually turned down a kiss, can you believe it?!” another voice called, off camera. The camera turned to reveal Maki, still in costume, huge spear over her shoulder. “Oh, not from me,” she added, probably spotting a look on the interviewer’s face. “From one of the costume girls. She was really cute, too…”

“You’re not getting many juicy stories, are you?” Yuta asked sympathetically. “Hmm, who would have a good story…?”

“Where’s Toge? He’d know,” Maki pointed out.

“Just gone to hunt out Megumi.”

“About New Year’s?”

“Yeah.”

“Which idiot told him?!”

“That would be me…” Yuta’s ears turned red at the tips. “In my defence, I thought Megumi would’ve told him!”

“So the good story is Megumi’s, then?” the interviewer asked.

Yuta and Maki looked at each other. “Try someone else first,” Yuta hedged. “Oh look, there’s Toji!”

-

-

“I kissed my wife,” Toji shrugged. “I wasn’t at the New Year’s party, I was at home.”

“Oh, there was a party?”

“How do you think everyone ended up knowing everyone else’s business?” he snorted. “Especially Megumi’s. That poor kid…”

“Everyone keeps mentioning Megumi’s kiss! Do you know who it was?”

“Oh, no, it’s not something I’d ask,” Toji backtracked. “Like I say, I was at home with my wife. I’m really too old to be on this set, I’m probably the oldest by like ten years.”

“Really? How old is Mr Gojo?”

“God, I don’t know. He isn’t thirty yet.”

“And no-one except you is married, is that right?”

“I’ve never asked, but I don’t think anyone else wears a wedding ring,” Toji agreed. “Makes New Year’s all the more fun, eh?”

-

-

Yuji turned bright red. “I, uh – I probably need to discuss with them before I tell you anything.”

“Oh, I see. Was it one of your fellow cast members?”

“Yeah, it was.”

“Don’t worry, you haven’t given us any clues – loads of them are near your age!”

He laughed nervously. “That’s true enough. Someone else might have a better story. I don’t know who’s on set today? It’s definitely Yuta’s day, but his story is boring – did you know he turned down five offers and spent the countdown trying to catch olives in his mouth that Toge was throwing? I don’t know if-“

“You’re rambling,” said Nobara, from her spot on the floor behind. “And it was the other way around. Toge was catching the olives.”

“Oh, of course. Yuta doesn’t even like olives. Anyway-“

“I think Geto’s next door,” Nobara offered. “He definitely kissed someone at midnight.”

-

-

“Oh, I did kiss someone, I’m just not saying who,” Geto laughed. “It was someone famous.”

“One of your cast mates?”

“Mhm. Really, though, there’s loads of them, so that’s not any more information than you started with.”

“Can you give us a clue?”

“Absolutely not. They’d sue me.”

“You’re quite open about your sexuality; was it a man?”

“Absolutely it was a man! But again, there’s only one or two women in this cast, so that doesn’t really help much.”

“You should probably bear in mind we’re asking everyone on set today who they kissed at midnight.”

“And if he’s not on set today?”

“Well, there is that…”

“I wouldn’t really mind if you did find out, I’m not quite on that level of fame yet. It wouldn’t affect me much, since I’m not an idol anymore. It might kill him, though – not his career! He just might die of embarrassment.”

“In that case, we’ll leave you! I’m sure the fans will find out sooner or later.”

“They do have some scary powers,” Geto agreed. “Why don’t you find Megumi? He kissed someone, I think.”

-

-

Eventually, the cameras found Megumi and Yuji whispering in a corner together. When the interviewer waved at them, Yuji’s eyes widened like a deer in the headlights. He started whispering furiously to Megumi; the interviewer respectfully kept the microphone away until they’d finished.

“Mr Itadori has already answered this question,” she began.

“Oh, I heard,” Megumi nodded. Yuji winced.

“Oh, um – is this a bad time, then?” the interviewer hesistated.

“No, no, it’s okay,” Megumi shrugged. “I think we’ve come to our conclusion.”

“Wonderful!” the interviewer smiled, clearly extremely confused. “In that case, who did you kiss at midnight, Mr Fushiguro? Did you kiss anyone at all?”

“I did kiss someone. I kissed Yuji.”

Silence.

“Okay, I know I said you could say it, but that sounded really awkward-“

“Shut up, Yuji, I think she’s gone into shock.” Megumi put his hands on the interviewer’s shoulders, trying to get a sense of her breathing rate without getting too close.

“Oh my god. Try to reassure her while I find a first aid person,” Yuji said, before thinking better of it. “Wait, no. I’ll reassure her, you find a first aid person.”

Megumi rolled his eyes, but speed-walked off to find someone to help. Meanwhile, Yuji calmly reassured the interviewer that everything was fine, nothing had gone wrong, everything would be okay.

Neither of them were entirely sure why exactly she was so shocked.

-

-

“-So basically, she expected me to say Mai or something,” Megumi shrugged. “I think. I don’t think anyone’s really sure, but it was the surprise that got her. She’s not homophobic or anything.”

Next to him, the interviewer smiled. “Absolutely not! I think it’s lovely that you two have gotten so close over your time on set. I hope we see more moments in season two!”

Yuji thought about this. “I mean, I guess there is? Mainly, season two is-“

“THAT’S WHERE YOU ARE!” someone yelled. There was a loud crash, and the door burst open; Toge, hair released from its gel-inflicted helmet, face paint smudged into a blue beard, careened into the room and skidded to a stop just behind Megumi. “WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME YOU’D KISSED-“

“I’m kind of in the middle of something,” Megumi pointed out. “Can you leave?”

“I’M SO BETRAYED RIGHT NOW,” Toge continued, steamrolling right over Megumi. “AND YOU KISSED YUJI? TALL-WOMAN-WITH-A-BIG-ASS YUJI??”

“Megumi’s tall! Ish,” Yuji defended, making Toge jump.

“My bad, bro,” he said. “I didn’t realise you were here.”

“Clearly,” Megumi huffed.

“Does Satoru know about this?”

“…No….”

“You told the internet before you told Satoru??”

“We were gonna tell him before this came out!”

“Oh my god, he is gonna kill you,” Toge said gleefully.

“Who’s gonna kill who?” someone else asked. A mop of white hair peeked round the door. “Are we still doing interviews right now?”

“Uh oh,” said Yuji.

“Uh oh,” Toge agreed, grinning madly.

Megumi stared at the sunglasses slowly making their way around the doorframe. “I’m gonna have to tell him now, aren’t I.”

“Yes.”

“Tell me what?” asked Gojo, stepping fully into the room. “It can’t be that bad. Like, what ridiculous thing could you possibly tell me?”

“Maybe that he kissed Yuji?!” Toge interrupted before Megumi could even open his mouth.

“Thanks, man,” Megumi said sarcastically.

“Is that true?” Gojo asked, still calm.

“…Yes.”

There was a long pause.

Gojo opened his mouth, then closed it again. He stared closely at Megumi, who stared back. Then he stared closely at Yuji, who looked more and more terrified by the minute.

Eventually, Gojo decided to break the tense silence.

“If you get pregnant, I’m not financing it.”

“WHAT?!”

A03 | Exclusives | Tip Me | Commissions

[gojoevers]

UMINEKO??!!

so, I’ve just finished episode 1 of Umineko and the first tea party. I am probably even more confused than I was when I first started - I refuse to put up on reddit my thoughts because it seems everyone posts the same thing when they get this far so under the cut is my initial thoughts, questions and feelings on Umineko episode 1!! I’m hoping I don't make this too long, but I have SO MUCH I need to get out. Please do not read below the cut if you have not finished at least episode one as the post contains spoilers!

so, I’m gonna start with the characters. I absolutely love, love, LOVE this cast.

battler? love of my entire life. he was a character made to fit in my specific niche and I NEED to put him in my mouth. Jessica? my sweet, lovely girl who only deserves the best. maria? I will NOT take maria slander. she's just a kid and I was just like her when I was 9. minus the freaky laughing and like ominous-ness. George? I knew from the second I saw him that he'd be my lawfully wedded wife. enough said.

the parents, I’m a bit more swayed to dislike them, but at the same time, I don’t. I can't really explain my feelings for the parents. I do really like Natsuhi. She deserved more respect, and her conversation with Kinzo when she went to his study was a scene I really enjoyed. Krauss is ugly and he has no right to act the way he does idk he ANNOYED me. Rudolf and Kyrie? Loves of my life, despite what battler expresses about his father, I really like whatever dynamic they have going on, it's entertaining. and Kyrie is just wonderful. Eva, smash, next question. (I love my women MEAN and awful.) Hideyoshi, another sweetheart, like how he will stand up to his wife and take her side and is just a cool guy. also love my delusional king Kinzo. like I said, the scene with Natsuhi was emotional to me, and I thoroughly enjoyed it, it changed my opinion on him for sure. Who’s next? servants? Kumasawa is annoying, I’m sorry. I like how she's held incredibly special to the family, but she'd just not up on my list of faves. same with Ghoda. something about him I just don't like. he's off. Shannon, Kanon, and Genji however, I ADORE them. despite the circumstances, I did like the way we saw Kanon change throughout the chapter, but I didn't really pay much attention to him.

I sobbed like a BABY when George proposed to Shannon, when she was one of the ones said to have gone missing AND when she was found with the ring on her engagement finger. I was distraught - my life was genuinely over. the scene between them was so tender and sweet, and as I’d grown to really like both, it really broke my heart watching him discover her and ask about the ring. like I’m talking crying so hard I wanted to throw up. I could come up with something more constructive about each character we are introduced to but I think I'll leave that for another post.

Now, the actual events we see are a different story. Because what the actual fuck happened. I have no idea. 17 hours of my life and I came out of the tea party with more questions than I started with. What do u mean they all got FUCKED UP at the end and maria wrote a letter asking for someone to find the truth like what the FUCK SHE WAS THERE WHY ARE YOU PISSING ME OFF. I loved the story either way, I went into it expecting a murder mystery with Beatrice as the culprit, but what I got was a mass murder spree mystery with no visuals of Beatrice and probably my favourite ending for a chapter/episode 1.

I think the tea party confused me even more, because it was framed as an OOC, behind-the-scenes bit but... It wasn't? And all the kids are there, Shannon and George have a tender moment but by the end when Beatrice appears and challenges Battler as well as flirts with him (obsessed w her btw), I was just a bit confused? This was our intro to Beatrice? It made no sense to me but I suppose if you view the tea party as simply a continuation/after-story, it checks out. Like the tea party is some purgatory they're in? I still need to watch "???" which I assume is the witches tea party from the point 5 seconds I saw before I passed out.

Overall I think Umineko is the most fun I have ever had reading a Visual Novel. The music is delicious, it has a genuinely amazing cast and story. I am so, so excited to read Episode 2, and hopefully compile my thoughts a little better.

[mamaestapa]

Heartache Like No Other

•pairing: Joe Burrow x reader

•series summary: Y/n Hubbard, the younger sister of Cincinnati Bengals Defensive End Sam Hubbard, finds herself in a difficult situation after a steamy hookup with her brothers best friend, who just so happens to be the quarterback for the Bengals. In just nine months their lives will be changed forever. How will Y/n and Joe manage to to go through parenthood together? more so, how will Sam take the news he is going to be the uncle of his best friends baby?

chapter summary: You and Joe both experience heartbreak like no other after the events of Joe’s time in Louisiana for the LSU spring game…

•word count: 5.3k

•warnings: pregnancy, angst, crying, jealous joe, sad joe, sad y/n, definitely not the fluffiest chapter but there is some fluff!

series masterlist

——————————————————

April 12, 2023

4 months pregnant

Tears streamed down your face as you pulled out of Joe’s driveway. You were still absolutely distraught. You knew it was bad for your unborn son, but you couldn’t control the painful sobs that tore through your body as you left Joe’s. You didn’t let Joe explain himself at all because your hormones had been clouding your judgment since you came across the photos of him with his ex-girlfriend. Joe seemed deeply hurt and genuinely confused by your accusations you were throwing around when he got home. He truly does love you, and he missed you and your unborn child so much while he was away. Hearing you say such harsh words just broke his heart. But you were heartbroken too, Joe’s actions really hurt you.

As you drove down the street, you pulled out your phone, scrolling through your contacts until you got to the name of someone you knew wouldn’t mind if you stayed with them for a little while. Holly and Joe live in a one bedroom apartment and you’d hate to invade their space, even though you know Holly wouldn’t hesitate to let you stay with them. Morgan and Logan were out of town for a couple days, and they’re your friends but you wouldn’t crash at their place anyways. Obviously, Sam and Emma aren’t even options at this point. So that left you with the person you were calling right now. You put the call on speaker as you continued to drive. The phone rang twice before the person on the other end picked up.

“Hey.”

You sniffled, voice shaky and full of emotion as you responded, “Hi Tee.”

“Woah, you good Y/n?” Tee asked, his voice full of concern on the other end. You felt tears well up in your eyes as you stayed silent. You choked out a sob, causing Tee to curse silently on the other end. As gut wrenching sobs wracked your body all over again, you could hear Tee trying to calm you.

“Y/n you OK? Is something wrong? Does Joe know or do I need to come get you?”

“I-it, it’s about Joe.” You replied, your sobs growing harsher at the mention of Joe. You could hear Tee curse again before he replied. “What’d Burrow do?”

Get back together with his ex-girlfriend. Lie to me about missing me, lie to me about loving me… You thought.

“Can I,” you hiccuped, “stay with you, please?” You pleaded. You sniffled and hiccuped once again from your sobs before you spoke again. “I’ll explain everything.”

“Of course,” Tee replied instantly, “as long as you need. You need me to come get you?” You sniffled, responding, “No, I’m on my way.”

After saying you’d see each other soon, you hung up the phone and continued to drive to Tee’s house. A tear falling down your cheek every once in a while as you drove and thought about the heartbroken Joe you left behind. Part of you feels terrible for leaving him like that, but you knew you couldn’t stay. Not after what he did to you while he was in Louisiana. Before you knew it, you were pulling into Tee’s driveway. As soon as you pulled into the driveway, Tee was already out waiting at the front door for you. You put your car in park and got out, tears welling in your eyes once again as you made eye contact with the wide receiver. You walked up to the front door, falling into Tee’s arms as gut wrenching sobs wracked your body. Tee immediately wrapped his arms around you, holding you tightly against him while staying mindful of your bump. He brought a hand up to cradle the back of your head as you cried into his chest. Tee stroked your hair with his thumb as he tried to calm you. He let you cry for a good three minutes before he pulled your head away from his chest. A deep frown was etched on Tee’s face as he gazed down at your tear streaked face and teary, bloodshot eyes.

“Come on,” he said softly, draping an arm around your shoulders, “let’s get you inside.”

You nodded as the two of you walked into Tee’s house. Tee brought you into his living room, letting you sit down on the couch first before he sat down next to you. As your body recovered from your intense sobbing, you let out the occasional shaky breath and small sniffle. Tee leaned over to grab a tissue from the coffee table, handing it to you with a soft smile.

“Thanks,” you croaked out before blowing and wiping the snot away from your nose. “I’m sorry, this is disgusting. I’m disgusting.”

Tee shook his head and placed a comforting hand on your knee, squeezing it gently as he said, “No you’re not, beautiful.” You wet your lips and looked over at Tee, a sad smile pulling at your lips. “I’m glad you think so.”

“What’s got you so upset, girl?“ Tee frowned, giving you his full attention as you took a deep, shaky breath. You then told him the whole story, from Joe going to Louisiana for the LSU spring game to the photos of him with his ex that brought you to where you are right now—Tee's house. As you gave Tee all of the details, you couldn't help but grow emotional again. Seeing Joe with another woman, especially when that woman is his ex-girlfriend, isn't easy. Plus, all you could see when you thought about Joe was the heartbroken expression he wore, and the tears that rolled down his cheeks as he watched you walk out of the house. You couldn't help but feel a little guilty at the thought of Joe being completely distraught right now over you leaving him the way you did.

But what he did was wrong. You know you can't be around or talk to him right now. Your emotions are all over the place, and pair that with your raging pregnancy hormones, the results of you seeing Joe at the moment wouldn't end well. Staying with Tee is the right thing for you to do—at least for now.

Tee asked you to show him the photos of Joe and Alexis in Louisiana. You gladly showed him, however you couldn't help but cringe as you looked at the photos. Your heart sank as you watched Tee scroll the posts, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion as he read the captions of each post. Tee seemed just as genuinely confused as you were when you first heard about the situation. He handed you your phone and frowned deeply at you. "Damn," he breathed out, "I don't even know what to say." You let out a breathy laugh, "How do you think I feel?" Tee wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you into his side. He just frowned down at you as he watched your eyes well up with tears again. You quickly wiped them away, refusing to cry over this anymore. You've shed too many tears over Joe and decisions in the past couple hours.

"Y/n," Tee said quietly, making you look up at him. He cleared his throat before speaking again, "Promise you won't get upset." You quickly sat up and out of Tee's arm that was draped over your shoulder. "Why?" You asked, voice full of concern. You were preparing to hear upsetting news that you knew you did not want to hear right now. If it has anything to do with Joe and his relationship with Alexis, you don't know if your heart (or your blood pressure) can handle it. "Is it about Joe and Alexis? Have they been seeing each other?"

Tee's eyes widened at your question. "No, no! Not at all," he assured, "I was just going to give you my opinion about all that bullshit."

You let out a sigh of relief at Tee's words. You could feel your mood shift a little at the fact that Joe hasn't been seeing Alexis. "Good. I was worried you were going to tell me Joe has been seeing Alexis behind my back."

"Well, I know he hasn't here. Who knows what he was doin' in Louisiana."

Your shoulders dropped as your face fell. You could feel your chest tighten as another breakdown full of harsh sobs was about to come over you. Here we go again.

Tee, noticing your hurt expression, immediately took back his statement. "Which, I'm sure was nothing." You wiped your tears and nodded hastily as Tee thought about what he was going to say to you. He didn't want to hurt you anymore than you already were, but he also didn't want to get your hopes up in case something was going on behind your back.

"Look, Y/n, I know you're upset. Don't take this as me trying to be mean and make things worse." Tee sighed, "You're my friend and I'm just trying to help you." You nodded along at his words. You could never be upset with Tee when you know he's only saying these things to help you and the situation.

"But they're just pictures. You can't accuse Joe of doing something behind your back because of some stupid pictures from Instagram that someone took. The one picture looked posed, the other two were just moments where fans happened to snap pics. Alexis was one of the best college athletes at LSU the same time as Joe, so of course people will want pictures of the two of them in the same place."

Tee has a point...Alexis was one of the best athletes that ever attended LSU—the same goes for Joe. People are obviously going to want pictures of the two, despite their past with each other.

"Joe doesn't look genuinely happy in those photos at all. You can tell that damn smile is a fake as hell." You let out a light chuckle, making Tee smile softly. It was good to hear you laugh, even if it was just a tiny one. "But," he continued, "When Joe is with you, I've only ever seen a genuine smile come from him."

Your thoughts were running wild, almost as wild as your emotions.

"Look, I know you don't want to talk to, or even see Joe right now. But if you're this worked up and willing to throw away everything you have with him, maybe you should talk to 'Marr about it instead. He was there, I'm sure he could tell you everything."

It's true. Ja'Marr was with Joe the whole time at the game and even the club where he was spotted with his ex. You stayed silent as you weighed your options and thought about what to do.

“No.”

“No? Y/n, are you su-.”

“I saw what I saw.” You said, cutting Tee off. “I don’t need to hear it too.”

Tee sighed deeply at your stubbornness. Deep down you knew you were overreacting a bit, but you weren’t going to give in that easily. Joe really hurt you, even if it wasn’t intentional. You know you’ll have to talk to Joe again, but not anytime soon.

“Alright, if you say so,” Tee stood from the couch with a sigh. He looked down at you with a small smile, “I’m going to grab your bag, make yourself at home.”

You nodded as you watched Tee turn around and exit his home to grab your suitcase from the car. As you sat on the couch, you felt your phone vibrate in your pocket. You pulled it out, rolling your eyes as you saw Joe’s name flash on the screen. He was trying to call you. You heart dropped with guilt as you thought about all of Joes desperate attempts to contact you. You still hadn’t told him where you were. Your guilt was quickly overcome with stubbornness as you clicked the red decline button. You leaned back in the coach, throwing your head back and letting out a loud sigh. You crossed your hands over your belly, earning a kick in return from your son. Tee walked into the living room with your suitcase, making you sit back up.

“I’ll take this up to the guest room.” You nodded, smiling softly, “Thanks Tee.”

“Yeah,” he started to walk up the stairs when he called out to you, “Want to freshen up and get some food? I’m sure you’re starving.”

As if on cue, your stomach growled at the mention of food. You hadn’t eaten anything due to being so worked up, plus you are eating for two so you’re always up to eat. You nodded, smiling softly at Tee as you accepted his offer. “Sure, sounds good.”

You figured going out with Tee would be good for you. Getting food and being in Tees company would definitely help get your mind off of things. You got up from the couch and followed Tee upstairs, going into the guest bedroom to get your things situated while Tee got ready to go out. You got your toiletries and makeup bag out from your suitcase, deciding to freshen up in the guest bathroom. As you were brushing your hair, your phone dinged with a text message notification. You sighed as you read the last three messages that Joe sent you in the last couple hours.

Joe- I’m so sorry Y/n. I didn’t mean to make you upset. Can you please give me a chance to talk to you about this? I’ll explain everything.

Joe- I miss you. Just as much, if not more than I did while I was gone. You don’t have to talk to me, but just know that I do love and miss you.

Joe- Y/n, can you at least let me know that you and our son are safe and OK?

As upset as you are at Joe, you know that telling him that you and the baby are safe and staying with Tee, is the right thing to do.

You- I’m at Tees. My baby is fine.

That was the first time in a long time referred to the baby as my baby and not our baby. You know that’ll crush Joe, but you figure that’s what he gets for absolutely gutting you. You shut your phone off, ignoring the notification that Joe liked your message as you continued to freshen up for your dinner with Tee. The two of you decided to get burgers at a local burger joint in Cincinnati. Recently, your biggest pregnancy craving has been cheeseburgers. It doesn’t matter if it’s a burger from McDonalds or a burger from a pub—they all satisfy your craving.

As soon as you and Tee arrived at the restaurant, Tee insisted that you found a place to sit down while he ordered food for both of you. You told him your order and found a table to sit at in the corner of the diner type restaurant. As Tee ordered, many fans that were eating or ordering had come up to him to get their pictures taken with him. After paying, he politely declined more photos being taken as he wanted to spend this time to catch up with a friend. All of the fans were extremely understanding, letting Tee get back to you without any issues. You and Tee talked with each other for a bit until your food arrived. You were all ears as he told you all about his off-season and how he was preparing for the upcoming football season. Just like Joe, Tee is up for a new contract. As far as you or Tee are concerned, nothing has been negotiated or decided on quite yet—but there’s still a lot of time before a decision needs to be made. It may not even happen this off-season, for Joe or Tee! But who knows. You try to stay out of the business side of the NFL as much as possible.

Throughout your meal, Joe hadn’t even crossed your mind once. Spending this time with Tee and eating a delicious burger, definitely helped boost your mood a ton and get your mind off of things.

“Y/n,” Tee said, holding up his phone to take picture, “hold the burger up.”

You did as Tee asked, holding the burger up and smiling sweetly at the camera, scrunching your nose as you did so. Tee laughed at your pose and took a picture, posting it onto his instagram story with the caption: “🍔!!! @yourusername”

Tee put his phone down and went back to enjoying his burger. You got on your phone and saw his story, liking it before reposting it to yours, captioning it: “burgers with Uncle Tee>>>” so that no rumors would start about Tee being the father of your baby, since for now, no one but your closest friends and family know who the father is.

You put your phone back down and took a bite of the burger, moaning from all of the different flavors and how delicious it was.

“Hit the spot?” Tee chuckled from your reactions with a look of amusement on his face. You nodded, humming as a way to say yes. Tee smiled, pointing at you, “Little guy enjoying it, too?”

“He’s been pretty calm, not wiggling around a lot,” you sighed contently, “So, I’m going to take that as a yes.” You finished with a smile. Tee couldn’t help but smile warmly at your response. He was so excited to be an uncle to that sweet baby boy. Him and Ja’Marr fight constantly about who is going to be favorite uncle: Tee or Ja’Marr. It’s funny to watch them argue, both of them not even considering mentioning Sam, the baby’s biological uncle in the conversation. But at this point, you’re positive Tee and Ja’Marr will be better uncles to the baby than your brother will be.

You and Tee finished up your food and headed back to his house to wind down for the night. You were ready to head back and relax, and continue to not let your thoughts be overwhelmed with Joe.

~…meanwhile…~

You- I’m at Tees. My baby is fine.

Joe’s mouth formed in a straight line as he read the words “my baby”. You’d never referred to the baby as your baby when you were with him, it was always our baby—until now.

He must’ve really hurt you.

Joe sighed as he placed his phone face down on the couch. He was relieved to know you were safe and with someone he trusts, but him knowing you were still extremely upset with him made his heart hurt. You had been ignoring all of his previous texts and phone calls, which was something he wasn’t used to. Joe leaned forward and put his head into his hands, rubbing his hands down his face multiple times. He was starting to get a headache, which he wasn’t sure if it was from crying or the stress he’s putting himself under right now over you and his baby. Joe wet his lips as he pulled his hands away from his face. His mind was racing, filling with thoughts about you and how devastated and distraught you looked when he got home from the airport. Joe felt extremely heartbroken, but most of all, he felt guilty. Guilty for being around Alexis. Guilty for the heartbreak he caused you. Guilty for making you feel like he didn’t love you. Guilty for making you feel like he didn’t love your sweet baby boy.

As Joe’s thoughts ran wild, emotion soon took over him and before he knew it, he was letting out the same gut wrenching sobs that you were earlier. The salty tears streamed down his face in a constant rate as he sobbed painfully. He hated that the situation came to this. Joe never wanted any of this to happen. He didn’t think going to LSU for a couple days would cause everything the two of you have created the last couple months to come crumbling down in a matter of days.

Joe promised himself and you that he’d make it up to you. Everything he did to you all those years ago, he vowed to never do anything like that again. But here was, breaking your heart the same way he did when he left for LSU. Was this how you felt when he left for LSU?

Tears continued to stream down Joe’s cheeks as he thought about the hurt he caused you, and how you may never forgive him. His thoughts wandered to his unborn son. Joe’s sweet little boy that was growing like a weed, who he hasn’t gotten to speak to or feel for days. He missed his son terribly. Joe could only hope you’ll let him attend your checkup that’s in a couple days. He’ll try to convince you, but he’s not going to get his hopes up.

After a few minutes of letting out all of his pent up emotions, Joe’s sobs slowed to the occasional sniffle. Once he wasn’t worked up anymore, he decided to do an intense training workout to get his mind of you, the baby, and everything that’s happening between the two (or three) of you.

~time skip~

Joe had just finished an intense workout. Sweat dripped down his forehead as his glistening chest heaved with every deep breath he took. He walked into the kitchen and grabbed a fruit punch Body Armor from the fridge. He quickly opened the bottle, bringing it up to his lips and taking a generous drink of the ice cool liquid. It was perfect for after a workout like Joe had. He pulled the bottle away from his lips, letting out a slight “ah.” Joe sniffed and wiped his mouth free of the liquid that had dribbled down his chin as he quenched his thirst. He screwed the cap back on and walked over to the island, pulling out a bar stool and plopping his sore body down onto it. As Joe sat down, he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. He pulled it out, hoping it was a message from you. His shoulders sunk in disappointment. It wasn’t a text. But it was a notification from Instagram, notifying Joe that you and Tee had added to your stories.

Usually, Joe wasn’t one to use social media. He could care less about what people on Instagram had to say or do. Occasionally though, he will post, but it’s only ever related to football or any sponsorships he may be a part of. His words, Joe doesn’t “peruse social media”.

However, curiosity got the best of him. Joe opened the Instagram app and immediately clicked on your story, which popped up first on his feed. His heart dropped to his stomach as he saw the picture of you smiling and holding up the burger you ate for dinner. His heart dropped even more as he noticed you reposted Tee’s story.

You were out to dinner with Tee. While it seemed like a friendly type of thing, Joe couldn’t help but feel a little jealous seeing you with Tee. What makes matters worse is that you’re staying with Tee right now. He could only hope nothing was happening. Joe knows you’re incredibly upset with him, but he likes to think you wouldn’t do something harsh to him in return. Jealousy continued to bubble inside of Joe as he thought about you and Tee together.

Joe let out a heavy sigh as he hastily swiped out of Instagram and shut his phone off. Joe was overwhelmed. He was extremely upset and on top of that, he was starting to get jealous at the thought of you staying with Tee.

He needed to talk to you. He needed to talk to Tee. He needed to make sure nothing was happening.

…

You were sitting on the couch next to Tee, wrapped up in a blanket and laying your head on his shoulder as the two of you watched re-runs of How I Met Your Mother. As you were tucked into Tee’s side, you were feeling around for your baby boys kicks. He’s been active today, but not as active as usual. You weren’t concerned though, you knew the reason why. Your son was only extremely active whenever Joe was around. You think the baby must like the sound of his dads voice, or the touch of his palm over yours. Because when Joe is around, your son is doing what feels like constant somersaults in your belly.

You poked gently at your skin, waiting for your baby to push back. A few moments passed of no movement, but he eventually kicked back at the spot you poked. You giggle softly as you watched your son kick. Tee glanced down at the sound of your laughter, watching in amusement as you bothered your unborn baby.

“What are you doing to the little guy?” Tee chuckled. You grabbed his hand, smiling as you placed it gently on your bump. “Feel this.”

You poked the side of your belly, waiting to feel your son kick back again. He didn’t. You figured it would take a few tries to get him to move, but he never did the whole time Tee’s hand was on you.

“He’s being stubborn, sorry.” You said, frowning slightly as Tee pulled his hand away. Tee chuckled, “It’s good. He can tell it’s not his daddy’s hand.”

You smiled slightly, “Yeah, you’re right. I can tell he’s already a daddy’s boy.” You said quietly, thinking about how much Joe and his son have already bonded—even though your baby is only twenty some weeks.

“Speaking of his daddy…” Tee trailed off, “have you talked to Joe at all?” You shrugged, “Not really. Only to tell him that I was staying with you.”

Tee nodded, humming in response. “Well,” he started, “you can stay as long as you need.” You looked up at Tee, a genuine smile on your face as you said, “Thank you Tee.” He nodded, the smile on his face matching yours, “Anytime, Y/n/n.”

You spent the rest of the night watching HIMYM with Tee, before you went upstairs to get some well needed rest after the day you had today.

~the next day~

You woke up from your deep, peaceful sleep, to sound of your phone going off. You groaned slightly as you rubbed your tired eyes. You rolled over in the queen sized bed and reached out to grab your phone. You sighed in annoyance as you saw what the notification was.

Joe had sent you a message.

You rolled your eyes and set your phone back down on the nightstand. You laid back down in bed, trying to fall back into that same peaceful sleep you had been in before your phone went off. However, as you laid in bed and tried to fall back asleep, you couldn’t help but slowly start to feel guilty.

You knew you were being stubborn, overreactive, and harsh about the whole situation with Joe. He just made you so upset, and the only way you could make it “better” was by leaving him and ignoring everything he tired to say to you. So as you laid in bed, you decided that while you aren’t ready to see Joe yet, you should text him back. It’ll make you both feel better.

Joe- Hey. I know you’re still pissed at me, and I don’t expect you to say anything, but I’m just checking in. I’m worried about you, Y/n. I want to make sure the two of you are OK.

You- Hi. We’re both doing good, thanks for checking in.

Joe- Of course. Im glad to hear that. Things going good with Tee?

You- Yep.

Joe- Good.

You didn’t respond. You figured letting him know you and the baby were still going OK was good enough for now. You went to turn your phone off when another text from Joe came through.

Joe- I was looking at the calendar and noticed you have an appointment in a couple days. Do you need me to take you?

You- No, I can go by myself.

Joe- I was hoping maybe I could go with you. Dr. Montgomery said your halfway appointment would be one we shouldn’t miss.

You- I don’t really want to see you right now, Joe. I get the appointment is important, but the baby and I clearly aren’t your top priority right now.

Joe- Y/n, can you please let me explain myself? It’s not what you think, I promise. I love and miss you so much.

You scoffed as you read his text. Was he just saying that to get you to let him go the appointment?

You- I don’t want to see you right now, Joe.

Joe- I won’t even be in the room if you don’t want me. At least let me go and sit in the waiting room so that I can talk to Dr. Montgomery. Please?

You- I don’t know.

Joe- He’s my baby too, Y/n. I want to make sure he’s healthy and OK. I’ll stay in the waiting room the whole time, you won’t even know I’m there.

You contemplated on what to say to Joe. As much as you’re still upset with him, you know it’s wrong to deny him from going to your appointment. Joe’s right, it’s his baby too. Even if you don’t want to see him, he should be able to go.

You- Fine. Appointment is at eleven.

Joe- Thank you. I’ll see you in a couple days. Take care of yourself and peanut.

Your eyes welled with tears as you read the name peanut.

Peanut. Joe hasn’t referred to the baby as peanut since before you found out you were having a baby boy. The nickname filled you with many different emotions. You loved hearing the name again, but at the same time it made you sad hearing it come from Joe because of how you’ve been treating him the last couple of days.

A pang of guilt struck you as you realized how harsh you sounded as you texted Joe. He on the other hand sounded genuine in each message he sent. It made you realize that maybe Joe really does love you and your unborn son, and that he wasn’t just saying those words to keep you distracted. Maybe Joe really did miss you while he was in Louisiana for those couple of days, and maybe, just maybe, those pictures truly did mean nothing.

hey loves!!

i just skimmed through this chapter and fixed obvious things that needed edited, but there are definitely still some errors (so i apologize for that lol)

so y/n is staying with tee and joe might just be a little jealous

and poor joe :( i just want to hug him lol. do we think y/n will come around and let joe explain himself or do we think she’s going to be stubborn and continue to drag this out?

we’ll have to see in the next chapter👀 which lucky for you, will be out this week!😉) again, i don’t want to give much away, but i think this next chapter will make you feel better—maybe…

if you haven’t seen already, i’m updating this series TWICE a week now! with the exception of this week, i will be updating a chapter every monday & thursday/friday. so hopefully thats some exciting news if you enjoy this series!🤍

anyways, thank you so much for all of your kind words, comments, and love you’ve shown this series! i’m having a blast writing it, and it makes me so happy to see that you are all enjoying it. you’re all the best!☺️🤍

tags: @dandelionwrites8 @joeburreauxsworld @theflawedwriter @mrsshiesty @ann288 @ijustcrypretty @theoneandonlyfanz @wickedfun9 @venus-b @hummusxx @stainednailpolishremover @a-moment-captured @alternativemadchen @erinmartin1987 @sirlewisworld @kkrenae @unhingedfangirl @sublimemusic-rebel @meameagirl @ilovejoeburroww @hallecarey1 @j-worlds-blog @blinkloverx3 @jordyn14 @kristencochefski1125 @ryiamarie @unsaidjaelinrose @sinners-98-world @ozwriterchick @evernova @fangirl-madz @jackharloww @fantasywritersstuff @emherb10

[firstprincehornyramblings]

Stress Relief

Summary: Henry has had a very stressful day. And Alex knows exactly what kind of distractions will help make it better.

(18+) Kinks/Tags: firstprince, dirty talk, fingering, orgasm, oral sex, (playful/light) daddy stuff, desperate kisses, (mild) impact play, penetration, some fluff, Henry top, some cum swapping, general Henry being a slut (for Alex). Huge shoutout to Jon (@bigassbowlingballhead) for helping me out with some formatting stuff and bouncing back and forth ideas with me. (you da best) TW; brief Phillip mention.

———

"Baaaabbbyyy.” Alex called as he opened the door to Henry’s bedroom. “How’d your meeting go, I brought Starbucks and surprises. I figured that you deserved a cake pop after putting up with….” Alex paused as he looked up and caught a glimpse of Henry’s face, “Oh no, what’s wrong?” he asked immediately walking over to where Henry was sitting at his desk, looking distraught. Henry was sat with one elbow on the table, his face had been in his hand but he’d lifted it marginally to look up at Alex coming in. “Baby, what is it?” Alex cooed again, setting down the cups and his bags, stepping over to where Henry sat, rubbing the blond’s back gently.

“It’s..” Henry began shaking his head “This whole.. bill parliament is working on, and of course we have to approve it, and you read it.” He was pausing to look at Alex’s sympathetic face, the understanding nod. “And of course I’m not in favor and we discussed it today you know, and Phillip is being.. unrelenting and I’m almost entirely sure it’s to spite me.” He said it sounding both so angry, and so on the verge of tears at the same time. It wouldn’t be the first time Alex had seen Henry angry cry.

“Do you want me to throw something at him?” Alex asked, trying not to smile as he actually got a half-hearted laugh from Henry. “No, I’m so serious,” Alex continued, “Like it doesn’t have to... be dangerous, like I can miss on purpose. But make it something really threatening like a lamp.” “Oh my god, stop it Alex!” Henry said playfully swatting at the other man, but giving a more genuine smile. “You’re sweet,” he said after a moment, leaning up to rest a hand on Alex’s cheeks, tugging him down for a kiss.

“I’ve been told.” Alex said into the kiss, before giving Henry a few more kisses, “But in all seriousness, I’m sorry, I know that shit fucking sucks, and I know you.. don’t like it anyway. Is there anything I can do to help?” he asked moving behind Henry then, beginning to massage those tense shoulders. 

“Mhn, you.. can keep doing that actually.” Henry almost hummed, leaning back into Alex’s fingers, “Just because I do have to deal with it doesn’t mean I have to think about it right now.” He said despite it sounding much more like it was talking to himself than to Alex. And Alex didn’t believe it was for him for a minute either, but he nodded. “That’s right baby,” Alex said, doing his best to sound proud. His thumbs working at knots in Henry’s shoulders that made the blonde hiss. “Besides, I did bring treats, and a few surprises. Well, one surprise, but treats.”

“Please tell me you didn’t bring a puppy back here, Alex.”  Henry half groaned. It was a tone that was playful, but also partly serious. “You don’t think David needs a brother?” Alex teased, his fingers still working Henry’s shoulders. “David has anxiety, Alex.” Henry said in a much more serious tone now. “You.. didn’t get a puppy did you?” he asked actually turning to look back over his shoulder.

“No!” Alex laughed, shaking his head, “I would not spring a puppy on you, at.. this point in our relationship.” He clarified to a still stern looking Henry. “First off, coffee.” He said grabbing the iced coffee cup and setting it in front of Henry, with body language that made it seem more like a peace offering. “Second, cake pop.” He said setting the small Starbucks baggie beside the coffee. “It is incredible to me that you are in a palace with.. all of the equipment found inside of a Starbucks, and the staff to make it, and yet..” Henry said, despite taking out the cake pop already. “Thank you though.” he said taking a bite. “It’s just better.” Alex said sipping his own iced coffee before picking up another all black label-less bag. “Okay so I went to get us lube, we’re almost out.” Alex explained, pulling out a bottle of lube that made Henry get rather wide eyed.

“Do we need that much?” Henry asked breaking into a smile. “We absolutely do!” Alex defended, smiling so wide as he spoke, “I mean I don’t know about you but I’ve got this super hot boyfriend.” He teased; only grinning wider when Henry rolled his eyes with an ‘alright alright’. “Anyway,” Alex continued, reaching back in the bag, “They had these at the front, and I couldn’t say no it was just SO cute.” he was already defending his choice before showing Henry. But he pulled out a miniature riding crop then, no longer than a foot long ruler. The top of the crop was heart shaped, and the handle even had a tassel, clearly it was meant to be more cute than functional. “Alex!” Henry immediately scolded, nearly choking on the coffee he’d been sipping. “You did not! A riding crop? You can /not/ keep that here in the palace!”

Alex couldn’t help but laugh, he knew that was coming, “Oh right because people frequently go through your bedroom drawers, and it would be an international scandal if someone found this in your own home?” “Well,” Henry started before seeming to find his argument again, “It’s ridiculous, we are not using that. And it’s going back to your house, in /your/ luggage!”

Despite the protest from the blond, Alex could see the light blush forming in his cheeks. This was one of those moments, where it was the slightest bit hard to tell if this was just the British Royal coaching; or how Henry felt. “You know, I’ve seen you use a crop before,” Alex edged in, “And you were.. pretty handy with it, you definitely knew your way around.” “Oh my god that was on a horse Alex! Where it belongs!” Henry scolded, “You’re such a deviant.”

“Okay okay,” Alex playfully held up a hand in surrender, “I’ll put it in the drawer..” he said as he held up the crop, walking to the bedside table, and opening the drawer, laying the crop in, “See, I’m putting it inside the drawer.” He was looking back to Herny, watching his every move as he closed the drawer. “And it's hidden, we’re the only ones that know.” Alex reassured, walking back to Henry. “However,” he said once he stood back in front of Henry, who was currently in the middle of a permanent pout, sipping his coffee. “You still seem.. stressed, it’s making you grumpy.” Alex was grabbing the back of Henry’s chair then, tugging it back from the desk, and then turning it to the side, so Henry was no longer in front of that desk. “You’re ridiculous.” Henry laughed, shaking his head as he took another sip of that coffee, “What are you planning?” he asked in a much more playful way.

“Well,” Alex crooned, “What if I help you relax?” he was setting his hands on the arms of the chair Henry was in, so he could lean down more. “I think you just need a way to take out your frustrations. I mean you /do/ have a super hot boyfriend too.” Henry fought back a laugh, unable to keep from grinning like an idiot at Alex. “I do,” he said nodding as he leaned forward just a bit, brushing his lips over Alex’s, before giving him a soft kiss. “Well, what do you propose we do?” Henry’s voice was genuine, and in part because he’d made enough decisions today.

“I think you should let me help you unwind, get you relaxed and then whatever stress, you’ve got in that pretty little head, you take out on me.” Alex said it like it was a secret, smiling as Henry nodded into another kiss. “Perfect.” Alex cooed, and he was slipping down on his knees in front of Henry, already beginning to undo the belt on those way too expensive suit pants. He felt Henry’s eyes locked on him as he slipped the belt out of the loops and dropped it beside them. His fingers already undoing the button, unzipping the pants. “You.. really are a godsend.” Henry almost sighed as he watched Alex carefully slip those pants down. “I know I.. tease you a lot.” He added as his eyes followed Alex’s hands tugging down his underwear now, leaning up to help the boy in front of him. “But you’re perfect, and I love you.”

“Am I perfect because I know if we got cum on your suit, you’d have a fit?” Alex teased, reaching up to undo Henry’s shirt, tugging those buttons until it was open, and pushing at it, like reminding Henry to take it off. “Well, that’s one of the reasons.” Henry said with a laugh, pulling off his dress shirt, and laying it across that desk beside them. “But there’s.. a long list of other reasons.” He said in an affectionate way. “You know I want that whole list right?” Alex asked, his hand moving to wrap around Henry’s length now, his long fingers slowly moving up and down. He leaned in looking up at Henry as he ran his tongue up the underside of the blond’s cock. “Please?” he asked after flicking his tongue over the tip.

Henry’s breathing was shuddering, just at the touches, the lick making him gasp as he reached down, tangling his fingers into Alex’s dark curls. “Well right now the top of the list is what you do with that pretty mouth.” The sound that left Henry as he finished that sentence was almost like a laugh, but the end turned into a moan. One Henry just didn’t quite manage to stifle as he felt Alex’s mouth on him. Alex pulled his head back slowly, “Please do keep going.” He said, before dipping his head back down, wrapping his lips around Henry’s cock. His hand held the base of the blond’s length, just for steadiness. At this point, Alex was just slowly bobbing his head as he kept sucking, teasing with the tip of his tongue some. He did live for any compliment Henry could possibly throw at him, but he also lived for the way he felt his boyfriend’s cock get harder and harder in his mouth. It made him give the softest hum against the sensitive skin which only served to make Henry’s brain fuzzier.

“Uhm..” Henry tangled his fingers tighter in Alex’s hair, his eyes locked at the site in front of him. Some days he still couldn’t get over that boy being his, and today was one of them. Alex’s eyes looking back up at him, made Henry remember he’d started to speak, “Uh,” he started again, “I.. love those curls they’re lovely,” he said almost playfully as his fingers tugged Alex’s hair. He was certain he’d meant to say something more romantic, but he did notice Alex smiling up at him anyway. “Not to, sound incredibly shallow, but you do look.. so fucking good doing that.” Henry panted softly. Alex was slowly pulling his head up, pulling back with a soft ‘pop’, “I don’t care how shallow you sound baby, I know how deep you can get when you want to.” The way he said that made it obvious there was more than one meaning, and if the tone alone didn’t, the grin and the playful wink he shot Henry certainly did.

“You’re.. obscene.” Henry said, smiling so wide down at Alex. Alex was leaning back in, wrapping his lips back around Henry’s cock and bobbing his head a few quick times, letting Herny gasp at that, before pulling back just enough to (attempt to) speak. It was bad, a muffled garbled sputter. “Yhour thdick s’litherlee en mah moufth.” He waited for Henry to look at him, mouth agape and eyes wide. Alex just doing his BEST not to laugh before going back to sucking, bobbing his head a few more times. It was enough to silence Henry. Honestly, Alex was just so happy that it seemed like Henry’s mind was a million miles away from what had been bothering him earlier. After a bit more of the soft moans and the soft noises of Alex keeping steady work, Henry’s fingers tugging those dark curls, Alex pulled back again. “You wanna fuck me?” he asked grinning up at Henry, looking delighted to ask. “Maybe it’ll be easier to list all the things you love about me with your dick in me instead of in my mouth.” He encouraged.

Henry couldn’t help but laugh softly, leaning down so he could give Alex a kiss. His hands resting on Alex’s cheeks as he gave the brunette a slow, rather sloppy kiss. It thrilled Alex when Henry got messy like that, and he leaned closer, his own tongue playing with Henry’s until Henry broke that kiss. “Yes dear,” Henry whispered against Alex’s lips. “I love you,” he followed immediately after, “You are the sweetest, cutest man, in the whole world, and I’m.. so lucky you’re mine.” He knew Alex was trying to cheer him up and it was working, incredibly well. Partly because, Alex was good at it, partly because the idea of Alex trying so hard in itself was an incredible feeling. “I love you too,” Alex whispered up at Henry, “And I’m lucky you’re mine too, but, you didn’t get out of giving me more compliments that easily.” He teased, standing up then and taking Henry’s hand, “Come on,” he said tugging him toward the bed.

“Hold on, hold on, the door.” Henry said, padding over and locking the door before walking back toward where Alex stood impatiently, already chewing at the plastic seal on that new lube, tugging it open with his teeth and then removing the rest. It made Henry chuckle as he reached down, lifting Alex’s shirt, and tugging it off. “You could be carved out of marble,” Henry hummed, running his fingertips over Alex’s chest, smiling as his fingers traced those muscles there. “Nuh uh, not pale enough.” Alex teased, “But keep going.” “Well,” Henry tilted his head before he undid Alex’s jeans, “Most of the sculptures that we have in viewable conditions today were found in-“ “Babe,” Alex gave the blond a look, “I meant compliment me, not give me an art lesson.” He teased, despite once again just being happy Henry was fixated on something else.

Henry was getting those jeans down by now, using one foot to hold them on the ground as he helped Alex step out of them. “Right, sorry, would you rather me tell you how big your cock is?” Henry teased, his fingertips snaking into Alex’s underwear, pushing it down as well, and pulling Alex’s hips closer so he stepped out of those as well. “Absolutely,” Alex said very seriously, “Or how perfect my ass is? I mean your art lessons are great baby, but not right now.” He teased as he leaned in to give Henry a soft kiss. “Noted,” Henry whispered into that kiss as his hand wrapped around Alex’s cock now, slowly stroking up and down. “You should let me put it in my throat while I warm you up.”

“Well, if you insist, who am I to refuse?” Alex almost laughed, stealing another kiss and then moving to get back on the bed. “Want me to get a pillow or something?” He asked looking at Henry crawling onto the bed with him. “If you want darling, whatever makes you comfortable I do prefer you on your back though.” He said already picking up the lube Alex had opened. Alex nodded and grabbed a pillow, shoving it under himself, sliding it down his back until it reached just the right angle to make it a bit easier for Henry.

Henry was opening the lube, getting a bit on his fingers and applying some between Alex’s cheeks. He was getting just a bit more on his fingers before using them to massage Alex’s entrance, and then slowly pushing two inside. His eyes darted up to Alex’s face immediately, checking for approval. Alex nodded to Henry, his lips lightly parted in a silent moan. It wasn’t that Alex wasn’t used to it, they switched it up often enough, but it had been a few days since Alex had bottomed. “It’s good baby,” Alex almost whispered, “I’m so fucking hard, you could do anything to me right now.” It  was true, Alex could already feel himself clench against Henry’s fingers. He could feel those waves of heat running through his body, his skin prickling like needles.

“I can tell.” Henry almost hummed, his fingers beginning to work into Alex, pumping them steadily as he leaned a bit lower on the bed. His free hand wrapped around Alex’s cock and slowly moved up and down, only for a moment before he wrapped his lips around it. “Fuck,” Alex immediately cursed, one hand moving down to run through Henry’s hair, messing up that neat combover. Those lips and those fingers together were already driving him insane as he leaned up just a bit to watch Herny. The blond was moving his fingers a bit faster, steadily pumping both of them into Alex. Every so often he would curl them, making Alex’s hips jerk in response, earning himself the most desperate moans from the brunette. Henry was bobbing his head continuously, his free hand sort of held the base of Alex’s cock, but between his thumb and index finger, his palm flat on the other man’s skin. Almost every time he would bob his head, Alex felt the back of Henry’s throat. Plush lips moving all the way down to press against where Henry’s on fingers rested at the base. Occasionally, like when Alex’s hips jerked, the blond would give a light gag, but overall he had this mastered.

The thought briefly crossed Alex’s mind, now just like every other blowjob, that he had never loved and hated anything nearly as much as experiencing what Henry had learned at boarding school. It was.. perfect, mind-blowing, every time. Just the right amount of suction, and Alex could never recall feeling teeth, just.. tongue. There was some underlying jealousy that Alex felt about it, it was too good for him to be okay with anyone else having ever experienced it; he wanted Henry to be all his. As per usual, the small sting of jealousy, only drove him. “More.” Alex panted, his fingers tugging Henry’s hair for effect, “Like now, like fuck me, if I don’t get your dick in the next five minutes, I’m going to go crazy.”

Henry’s eyes looked up, as he hummed a soft ‘Mhm’ in response. Though all he did was push a third finger into Alex, pumping them faster almost immediately. He kept up the work with his mouth, constant and eager, his own eyes fluttering shut every so often in just such a worked up way. He could hear Alex making those desperate noises, he could feel the hips squirming under his touch, every time he curled his fingers he heard a chorus of curses and hisses. Alex, did not let five minutes pass before he sat up, “Holy.. shit, come here.” He panted, letting Henry look up in mild confusion as Alex gabbed those broad shoulders. “Now, I need it now, fuck, you’re taking forever.”

Large hands moved Henry up, and then back, so that he was laying flat on the bed, looking up at the brunette over him. Now would have usually been where Henry chastised Alex for impatience, but the most loving smile was plastered on Henry’s face; today it was endearing. In a strange way it felt like Alex had absorbed all of his frustrations and was acting them out for him. That train of thought ended soon enough as Alex straddled Henry’s hips, one hand reaching behind himself, taking a hold of Henry’s cock and positioning himself over it.

“Ah ah, wait,” Henry scolded now, “Lube,” he said grabbing the bottle and offering it to Alex. “Don’t hurt yourself darling.” It was a soft, paternal tone that the blond used. “I’ve done it before. I’d be fine.” Alex grumbled, despite taking the lube, opening the bottle and getting a bit more. Grumblings aside, he knew Henry was right; if he didn’t listen, he’d be the one complaining later. “You would not be fine, and you know I’m right.” Henry couldn’t help but smile as he looked at Alex, applying more lube to the both of them.

“Alright alright daddy, I get it.” Alex rolled his eyes as he closed the bottle of lube and dropped it aside, reaching back behind himself to line himself up with Henry’s cock again now. “Careful,” Henry cooed with the softest gasp as Alex began to slip down onto his length. “You know that pet name doesn’t have the antagonizing effect that you intend it to.” He managed a steady voice for that, but his breathing immediately shook as Alex finished sliding entirely down onto him. “Yeah daddy?” Alex asked it with a grin as he leaned up some, resting his hands on Henry’s chest as he began to bounce then. “You like how I ride your dick, daddy?” he was doubling up on it just to provoke even more now. “You are, such a brat.” Henry panted, his hands running up Alex’s arms, before he leaned up on one elbow, just to reach and rest his hand on Alex’s hips. His hand was trying to guide the other man’s hips, rocking his own hips up to meet each of Alex’s motions. “But yes.” He panted, looking up at the brunette. “I love how you feel on my cock. You take it so good for me, baby.”

Alex’s lips spread into a grin, nodding down at Henry, and watching that hand try to guide his hips. “Oh you want me to go faster huh? Now you’re the impatient one? You gotta learn how to be patient, daddy.” His tone was teasing, as he kept bouncing, but then purposefully slowing down to just grind against Henry’s hips now. “Oh my god,” Henry groaned, half in pleasure half in annoyance. “You’re demonic.” He panted, “Actually where is that..” Henry was looking aside, glancing at that drawer beside their bed. “You wouldn’t.” Alex teased. “Watch me.” Henry shot back, taking the hand off Alex’s hip and leaning over, just a bit, not enough to disrupt Alex at all but enough to pull that bedside drawer open. He had to strain his arm some, patting around in that drawer until he finally pulled out that riding crop, holding it up with a grin of his own. It was a silent threat, but Alex was the exact opposite of scared.

“I thought I was a deviant for suggesting that belonged anywhere other than around horses.” Alex teased, so clearly pleased with himself for getting Henry this far. “Well, when you’re training a stallion for riding, sometimes, you have to break out the equipment to do so,” Henry almost purred it, reaching up to put the tip of that crop under Alex’s chin, playfully pushing there. “Are you going to make me use it?” “I don’t think you’re supposed to call boys stallions Henry,” Alex quipped, almost immediately, that grin still plastered on his face. “Oh, you are impossible!” Henry scolded, “A stallion is /literally/ a male horse!” he said before leaning up just enough to pop Alex’s ass with that riding crop. “Will you just fucking ride me!” Alex did yelp at that initial pop before giving such a bratty giggle, “Yes daddy, sorry.” He purred in a way that was not at all sorry. He placed both hands on Henry’s chest then, partly for balance, partly as a power play, before going back to bouncing again, faster this time.

“So much better..” Henry panted, nodding to Alex then, taking that crop and giving one of Alex’s thighs a pop, “Keep going.” He cooed. Alex gave a little gasp at that second pop, but looked down at Henry with such a hungry expression, he was bouncing.. so much faster now. Enough that both of them were a moaning mess, both of their breathing so ragged. “So, you just needed some encouragement?” Henry teased, leaning just a bit to pop Alex’s ass with that crop again, “Do you like this thing?” he asked. Alex gasped at that pop, but nodded, “So fucking much, it’s hot, like you’re reminding me to do my job, keep doing it.” He moaned, his head falling back some as he kept up his pace. “You’re so fucking deep. Fuck, I love your dick baby,” as Alex spoke his hands were almost groping at Henry’s broad chest, massaging over the blond’s pecs.

“It is your job baby,” Henry hummed, leaning up to pop Alex’s ass a few more times with that crop “It’s your job to get my cock off today.” He pulled his hand back, and gave Alex’s thighs a few more little pops, smiling so wide as the redness appeared. “The red hearts are so pretty on your skin baby.” His tone was almost loving despite how desperate he sounded. Alex was slowing down again now, just grinding against Henry, who gave an audible whine at it. “Just give me a second, I’ll get back to it, it’s not like it’s a super short dick for me to bounce on babe.” Alex teased. “Oh I know,” Henry whined, “And you’re an angel but, I’m… way too horny for this.” He said leaning up, and grabbing Alex, tugging him down, and then immediately rolling the both of them over, so he was on top. Alex gasped, partly at being shoved around, but partly at the feeling of Henry’s cock sliding back into him once he was on his back. “So deep daddy,” Alex almost whined. “You want me bad, huh?” He was wrapping his arms around Henry now, who was taking one of Alex’s legs, pushing it up as he pressed his hips tighter against the brunette.

“So, so fucking bad.” Henry whispered, steadying himself a bit before starting to thrust up into Alex. Both of them were moaning out immediately, and both of them definitely sounded so desperate at this point. Henry was getting a bit faster already, Alex wrapping his arms around Henry neck this time, pulling him in closer. “Fuck me daddy,” Alex panted, a grin still on his lips. His free hand reaching to grab that riding crop and before Henry could even notice he swung it down, popping Henry’s ass with it once. “Harder daddy,” Alex groaned as Henry gave a wide eyed gasp. Alex took his opportunity to swing down another hit with that crop, “Come on daddy, harder.” He teased. “You were so stressed earlier, you’ve got to take it all out on me.”

Henry did gasp again at those hits, but he couldn’t help but give his own devilish grin down at Alex, “Yeah? You need daddy to give it to you harder?” he whispered, his lips brushing Alex’s. “Please.” Alex whispered back, giving a nod and then letting his mouth fall open as Henry did get rougher. Fast, deep, almost slamming up into Alex, who could only really hold on and take it. He felt chills run up his body as those thrusts got so deep inside of him. “Fuck, yes daddy.” Alex almost whimpered. He took one hand off of Henry’s shoulders, reaching between them and wrapping his fingers around his own cock.

“Oh is it that good?” Henry panted, leaning himself up some, just to look between them, “You’re so fucking hot.” His voice was husky, low, and just a bit condescending. It was a tone Alex had gotten to hear fairly often since they’d got together, and fuck, he loved it. Part of why he loved it was because he knew he was the only one Henry spoke to that way. It was all his, Henry was all his. Almost as if that thought resonated Alex shifted the leg Henry had lifted, wrapping it around Henry’s hips now. “You’re gonna make me cum.” Alex panted, his eyes fluttering up to Henry’s face, “Please don’t stop,” the pleading came naturally, he was way too far gone to see that there was no chance of Henry stopping anytime soon.

“Let me see it baby,” Henry panted, in such a breathy voice, “Cum for me,” his own voice desperate but once again paternal. Between that tone, and the way Henry was hitting so deep inside of him, that was it, Alex felt that snap. His own hand still stroking his cock so fast right up until the last second. His head back as his body arched instinctively, mouth open, and curls a mess by this point, cheeks red, it was a sight to behold. Long ropes of white streaked up Alex’s stomach and chest, with each stroke of his hand, and each shove of Henry’s hips. “Fuck yes baby, fuck me, fuck me.” Alex whined as he rode it out, his hand still tugging the last few drops of that orgasm from his cock, as a low whimper took over.

That visual, was all it took for Henry, how could he possibly need more? Even if he didn’t, the feeling of Alex clenching against him as he rode out that orgasm certainly would have been enough. Those last few pushes he was giving Alex over the edge were the same ones where he spilled into the brunette. His hips rocking against Alex as he rode out his own orgasm, lips open, breathing so ragged as he kept his eyes on the man under him. “God, I fucking love you,” Alex panted, catching his breath finally, coming down from his high. His hand finally moving away from his own cock as he glanced at the mess over his chest, “Fuck you made me cum so hard.” He said with a little laugh.

Henry was nodding in agreement, swallowing hard to catch his own breath. “I love you too.” He said in a pant, leaning in just a bit closer, careful not to press his chest against Alex’s as he gave the brunette a slow soft kiss. “You made a mess.” He whispered against Alex’s lips. “I did, sorry daddy.” Alex said with feigned sincerity, his hand resting on Henry’s jaw, his thumb stroking over the blond’s cheek until Henry broke the kiss.

“It’s alright darling,” Henry hummed, “Let daddy clean you up.” It was a soft, almost playful tone, but that didn’t mean that Henry wasn’t shifting so that he slipped out of Alex. The sensation made Alex almost whine, cursing under his breath. But Henry was leaning down, beginning to lick at the cum on Alex’s chest. He dragged his tongue over each stripe, slow, and careful, giving the softest hum as he did. Alex couldn’t help but lean up, looking down at Henry as he watched the blond move down lower. Henry licked over Alex’s abs, even over the last few drops that clung to the fuzz on Alex’s stomach. After he’d finished that, gotten every drop, Henry paused where he was, looking up at Alex and opening his mouth slightly, displaying the cum he’d collected there.

“Oh, you’re.. so fucking dirty baby,” Alex laughed, a grin on his lips. “That taste good?” he teased. But Henry only closed his lips, giving a soft ‘mhm’ in response, Alex noting that he didn’t see Henry swallow. The blond moved down even more now, spreading Alex’s legs and moving between them. Within seconds, Alex felt Henry’s tongue on him again, and he gasped leaning up a little to try and watch. He didn’t want to disrupt, but he desperately wanted to see what he felt. Henry’s tongue, between the Alex’s cheeks, hands spreading gently as he licked the cum dripping from Alex’s entrance.

“Holy.. shit.” Alex almost gasped, “I.. can’t believe you’re doing that.” At this point, he’d learned Henry was filthier than his ‘outside of the bedroom’ demeanor let on, but occasionally the prince surprised him. “I think it’s hot though,” Alex clarified after a moment, giving a soft gasp as he felt Herny’s tongue give a few deep licks, before the blond pulled back. Henry moved up now, crawling his way back up and over Alex’s body. Once they were face to face, Henry reached one hand to grab Alex’s jaw, lining their faces up, his thumb brushing over Alex’s bottom lip, like tugging it. Immediately catching on, Alex opened his mouth, even sticking his tongue out a bit for the other man. Alex’s mouth was open, and Henry leaned in close, so their mouths were maybe half an inch apart, before slowly spitting the contents of his mouth into Alex’s. He didn’t give Alex time to swallow, immediately crushing their lips together, Henry’s tongue pushing it’s way into Alex’s mouth.

Their tongues were brushing against each other, teasing, and twisting, both of them tangling hands into each other’s hair; and both of them moaning into those kisses. Finally, Henry did his best to ‘scoop’ some of their mixture onto his tongue before slowly breaking the kiss, and just locking his eyes on Alex’s as he swallowed the contents of his own mouth now. “We taste, so fucking good together.” Alex was swallowing the rest in his mouth himself, trying not to look too shocked at Henry. It was a good shock, not a bad one and the last thing he wanted to do was discourage this behavior. “So good baby.” Alex said in a pant, leaning up and giving Henry another messy kiss, breaking it slowly after a moment. “That was so hot.” Alex whispered against the blond’s lips.

“Was it?” Henry asked, nodding, “Good, I hoped you’d be into it.” He said with a soft smile, “Another reason you’re perfect.” He hummed. “Oh, so into it,” Alex nodded eagerly, “Like.. kind of made me horny, into it. Like.. maybe we should have some lunch and then go again kind of horny?” he asked in a playful way. “Ugh,” Henry groaned, his eyes half fluttering, “Absolutely, I’m starving, you.. really are perfect.” He cooed, leaning in and giving Alex one more kiss before moving to the side, shifting so he was laying beside Alex, resting one hand on the brunette’s chest, his cheek against Alex’s shoulder. “Thank you, for this, today, really.” He said kissing Alex’s shoulder once. “I needed it, and you couldn’t have been more perfect.” He said smiling.

“You’re wrong actually.” Alex said, looking at Henry, who arched a brow, giving a confused look. “I brought home like a dozen cake pops from Starbucks actually.” Alex clarified. “My god..” Henry said softly, “I was wrong.” He said with a serious nod, before smiling, leaning up and giving Alex a soft kiss. “I love you,” he hummed into that kiss. “I love you too.” Alex whispered against Henry’s lips.

[lxnababy]

II. THE ESCAPE

read part one HERE

wc: 5.4k

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II. THE ESCAPE.

Charlotte chewed on her bottom lip as she stared at two dresses sprawled out on her bed. One was bright red—a shade Charlotte would never choose for herself, the bold color matching how short and low-cut it was. It didn’t have many embellishments, just a tightening fabric she knew would be extremely difficult to breathe in.

The other was her choice, a navy blue mini dress that had the tiniest slit in a khaki material. It was strapless with a zipper running up her back she knew would be nearly impossible to zip herself, the material stiff and unforgiving. It matched perfectly with the diamonds she bought herself (retail therapy after Harry rejected her) and she knew it would anger her manager.

With a soft smirk, she slipped the material over her body, reaching her arm around to tug the zipper up and huffing in frustration. Has she gained weight? She’d worn this dress before with no issue.

Her eyes widened at the horrifying thought—her manager would check her weight over the weekend, and certainly a glutinous meal with her stuck-up date wouldn’t help her. Charlotte’s hands began to shake; she did eat the candy Harry gave her, not bothering to check the calories before she did.

She pushed off the dress, walking over to her closet. Tears were forming in her eyes, though she refused to let them fall and ruin the black smokey eyeliner she painted on just minutes before. “Fuck!” She yelled angrily, ripping through every dress she had in her possession. She knew nothing would look good on her tonight—should she cancel?

Of course, this date was complete bullshit. Her manager thought she had stepped from the limelight for a bit too long and set up a date with a well-known actor, though the stories she’d heard about him were unsavory at best.

Standing in her cotton undies, her hair tumbling down her back, she crossed her arms and surveyed her closet. Nothing. Letting out a strangled grunt, she picked up the pretty navy dress she’d been thinking of all day and threw it at the wall, knocking over a lamp by her nightstand in the process.

Almost immediately, she heard her door whip open. Charlotte squealed at the intrusion, throwing her arms over her exposed breasts before Harry could look at her. “Shit, sorry, I thought you were getting mauled or something.” Harry threw his hands over his eyes.

She frowned softly, not bothering to grab a sweater to cover herself up—it’s nothing he hadn’t seen before. “No, I just… can’t find something to wear. I gained weight, I don’t fit in anything,” Charlotte sounded genuinely distraught, eyes watering once more as she stared at the navy dress in betrayal.

Harry sighed. She was far more complicated than any tabloid could possibly process, he swore only he understood her fully. And it was useless; he couldn’t have her. “Char, let me help zip you up. I’m positive you haven’t gained weight,” he discreetly tucked his gun back in his waistband—he heard a crash, it could’ve been Charlotte in trouble.

Charlotte nodded pathetically. “I don’t even wanna go, Harry,” she whined, almost hoping Harry would help her disappear. She knew he wouldn’t, though. His loyalty is with her manager. 

Harry gritted his teeth. He didn’t want to go, either. He’d have to sit alone at a table nearby, watching Charlotte schmooze with a random asshole who didn’t understand how lucky he was. He’d fucking kill to be in that actor’s place tonight. “It’ll be quick,” he offered softly, walking over to her dress and picking it up. “Here, step into it.”

Charlotte complied, her cheek grazing his shoulder as she bent down to step into the dress Harry was holding open for her. He was so close she could smell his cologne—it smelled like that lazy morning she dreamt about every night. She squeezed her eyes shut. He rejected her, she needed to move on. She was moving on.

“Please don’t tell me it won’t zip,” Charlotte gathered her hair in her hands as Harry squeezed her dress together. Every drag of his fingertips against her bare back was pure torture; she jumped every time only to melt into the sinful touch.

He was equally as tortured, every inch of zipper that slid up making his stomach twist. When he pulled it all the way up and tugged it for good measure, he stepped back. “No need to worry, princess. It’s all good now,” he offered, rubbing her shoulders.

Charlotte nodded, slightly embarrassed at her outburst. “Thanks, Harry,” she said quietly, her eyes darting around the room to focus on anything but him. On anything but the way his muscles strained against his halfway-buttoned dress shirt, or how the curls on the nape of his neck curled into the collar of his shirt, or how the bottom had become untucked and showed a sliver of exposed tattoos just above his hips.

“It doesn’t have to be like this, Charlotte. You know I only want the best for you,” Harry confessed quietly, trying desperately to meet her gaze despite Charlotte being so unwilling. “You know that, Char,” he repeated.

Charlotte blinked back tears—she seemed to do that often. “I know,” she agreed. “This isn’t the best for me, though. I’m miserable,”

Harry rolled his neck. “You’re safe, though,” he argued. “I can only keep you safe like this.”

She nodded curtly. “There’s other options, Harry. You’re making excuses. And it’s fine, but don’t act like you’re only doing this for my betterment.” Her tone was cutting, her eyes finally meeting him. There was a rage there he’d never seen before—heartbreak. “I have to finish getting ready,”

Her gaze flickered to the door. Harry nodded.

—

Harry was going to kill him. Harry was going to take the steak knife off the ridiculously expensive marble table and slice his throat open if he touched Charlotte one more time. She was laughing far too loudly at his jokes, her fingers brushing the hem of his shirt sleeve far too often.

And Harry could admit, the man was beautiful. Harry truly didn’t stand a chance. He sat there, wallowing in pity, remembering every moment Charlotte looked at him like that. He could count those times on his fingers, and it made him sick. He wanted her to only look at him like that—instead she gave him a cold, lifeless stare.

But when the man offered Charlotte over to his place for a nightcap, Harry lost all semblance of control. He stood up abruptly, his chair squeaking loudly against the hardwood at the disruption, and marched over to Charlotte’s table. “Ready to go?” Harry asked, his tone demanding and barely a question.

Her eyes flashed dangerously. “No, I’m having fun,” she snapped, tilting her chin.

He knew it was bullshit. He knew she’d rather be anywhere else than on this date with paparazzi exploiting their every move, but apparently ‘anywhere else’ meant anywhere that didn’t include Harry.

“Charlotte, it’s time to go,” Harry glared at her, his fingers curling around the back of Charlotte’s chair with a white-knuckled grip. “C’mon,” he nodded at the actor across the table, though the man didn’t budge.

Charlotte looked up at Harry, her hands falling into her lap in defeat. She was faced with two options—pretend she liked the shitty actor and move on, or fall back in her wallowing state of Harry obsession. And neither would bring her happiness, she knew that. “You seriously let him control you like that?” The actor nodded to Harry, who was looming above her.

She chewed on her pouty lip, her head spinning. “Control? You think I’m controlling, Char?” Harry asked, crossing his arms and tugging at the sleeves of his black dress shirt.

“I’m gonna go,” Charlotte finally decided, pushing the chair back and letting it screech loudly across the hardwood. “It was lovely to meet you, though.”

She saw the pride inflate Harry’s chest as she stepped back into his space, leaning close to him. “I’m sure the tabloids will love this,” the man smirked from the table. Charlotte stiffened, but refused to turn back and face him. Tabloids. He’d spill. He’d spill every inch of their date to the highest bidder—how her bodyguard was staring at them with jealous rage, how Charlotte stayed silent, barely asking questions, how he whisked her away. Her manager would kill her. Kill them.

It was a quiet walk to the car, though midway through Charlotte began to tear up, mascara falling in fat drops down her cheeks. Harry didn’t say anything—she prayed he’d never speak to her again. He opened the front door for her, picking her up to drop her into the seat, not daring to look in her eyes.

Charlotte sighed softly, pressing her fingers into the navy skirt of her dress. He climbed into the driver’s seat, staying silent as he started to drive. The tension was heavy and Charlotte was trying to calm herself down; she couldn’t stop crying, couldn’t stop thinking of how screwed up her life has become.

A loud ringing from Charlotte’s phone interrupted her, and she furrowed her eyebrows, seeing her manager’s name across the screen. “Hi, Eric,” she said, her voice a slight squeak, her hands shaking uncontrollably.

Harry peeked over at her, watching her face change. “Charlotte, why am I getting nasty calls from the most famous young CEO in Los Angeles saying you were unladylike and rude?”

Silent tears fell harder. “I’m unsure. I thought it went well,” Charlotte lied, looking out the window and covering her mouth with her hand so Eric couldn’t hear her cry. “Plus, aren’t I meeting a prince or something?”

She could hear Eric huff in annoyance, and blinked hard. “If your reputation is ruined from this, we will have to rethink your future. See you later,” Eric hung up before Charlotte could protest.

She crumpled into the seat, making herself small as she stared out the window. Harry was quiet, but she was happy he wasn’t speaking to her. She didn’t want to hear how he was only trying to help her, how he just wanted her safe. She’d rather feel free than safe, why couldn’t Harry understand that?

“I’m sorry,” Harry said quietly. “I’m so sorry, princess.”

Charlotte glared at him, shaking her head. “Yeah,” she said quietly, brushing him off.

He cleared his throat, white-knuckling the steering wheel. “Did you ever really want this life?” Harry was curious, and Charlotte wiped her eyes as she shrugged, watching as the streets became familiar and the garage Harry always parked in sat at the edge of two streets.

“I love modeling,” she said quietly. “I love showing off new clothes and being ahead of trends, I love seeing behind the scenes. This just got so out of hand,” she shook her head, then looked up and met Harry’s eyes.

It was the most they spoke since that fateful night, but she didn’t get her hopes up. Harry’s loyalties lied with Eric, she had to keep reminding herself. “What would you do if you never met Eric?” He asked, but Charlotte didn’t want to answer.

She waited until he put the car in park before replying. “Why would I think of that if I can’t change where I am now?” Charlotte asked, her honey blonde hair falling into her face as she pushed open the door. She didn’t want to talk to him anymore—this wasn’t the Harry that gave her a care basket or held onto her all morning. This was her reserved, curious bodyguard.

Charlotte climbed into bed barely an hour later, her hair tied into a braid, her pajamas barely covering her body as she spent the night looking at pictures of other models. She showed up in almost every group photo, but she refused to look at herself—she’d only make herself sick.

What would have happened if she never met Eric?

She couldn’t sleep. It kept her up, tossing and turning. She wouldn’t have the financial stability or the exciting, party girl life. She wouldn’t be able to live her dream dressing in frilly dresses and meeting the most creative minds in the world, but she also wouldn’t be under constant surveillance. Maybe she would be able to keep a boyfriend, maybe she would be one of those simple girls who were happy with a freshly brewed cup of coffee and stable job.

Maybe she wouldn’t hate herself so much.

—

Harry noticed her decline. Charlotte would trudge out of bed, ate much less and became extremely thin; it didn’t help that every tabloid enjoyed her body now, only feeding into Charlotte’s mental health decline. She would only speak to Harry if it was business-related, and only seemed happy when someone was recording.

Eric was excited to introduce her to the royal family overseas, though had informed Harry he was still working out the details and couldn’t let anyone else know. It made Harry sick, thinking he wouldn’t be able to live in the same apartment as her, the same city as her. He wouldn’t be able to keep her safe or feel her presence even if their relationship was hostile. It was like Harry was living in a never-ending hell.

This morning was no different than the rest, other than the fact Charlotte’s morning was oddly empty from obligations. “Hi,” she said softly, and Harry nodded at her. She was more quiet than the rest of the mornings, which made his eyebrows furrow. Her shaking hands were clanging around the kitchen loudly, which made Harry speak up.

“What’s wrong, princess?” He asked. His voice made her whip around and huff loudly.

“Have you seen the news this morning?” Charlotte shot back, crossing her arms as her voice wavered loudly. Harry shook his head, going to grab his phone. “They released the photos,” her voice was barely louder than a whisper as she admitted her horror. “My breasts are everywhere.”

Harry immediately stood up and opened his arms. Without thinking or hesitation, Charlotte rushed into them, squeezing him as her head buried in his chest, his shirt becoming wet from her tears. “I am so, so sorry, Char,” he rubbed the back of her neck, his other arm holding her tight against him.

“I just want to run away,” she whispered, looking up from his chest and meeting Harry’s eyes. “I can’t live here anymore. With Eric,”

Harry took a deep breath, his mind going blank as his mouth began to move. “I’ll run away with you,” he said gently, his finger caressing the underside of her chin. “If that’s what you really want.”

“I really want that, Harry,” she said strongly. “Living in the countryside away from everyone. Please?” Charlotte tugged on the hem of his shirt in nervous excitement. “At least long enough to get Eric off our back,”

Harry threw his head back. He’d have a massive target on his back if he helped Charlotte escape. But Charlotte. The girl who haunted his dreams, the girl who engulfed every one of his waking moments. “It doesn’t have to be forever. But I want you with me,” she looked up at him, her eyes filled with heartbreak and soft pleading. He would do anything for her, truly, she didn’t even know the extent of his feelings.

“Let’s start packing, then,” Harry squeezed her hips, trying not to think of the reckless decision they were making.

—

Charlotte began to shiver the farther from Los Angeles they got. They were now in northern California, wildlife surrounding the long strip of road ahead of them. Harry was quiet, and they were listening to soft music in silence. She already had five missed calls from Eric, but Harry didn’t seem bothered.

She looked over her bodyguard, frowning. He didn’t seem happy to take her, but Charlotte never forced him to join her. “How far out are we, H?” She asked, turning in her seat to face him. He was wearing sunglasses, one of his hands playing with his lips, the other on the wheel, dressed in his usual all black. He looked so handsome and he wasn’t even trying.

“Not too much longer,” he said softly. “Are you feeling alright?” He turned to her for a second, and Charlotte nodded. She reached for his hand, upset he hadn’t touched her once since they got in the car.

He immediately let her pull it into her lap—he didn’t have to stifle his feelings now, right? They were in the middle of nowhere; romance didn’t matter, right? He was sure Charlotte was thinking similar things, but he knew he broke her heart beyond repair. He would have to fix this, he knows. “I hope the house has a garden,” Charlotte blurted out randomly. “I’ve always wanted a garden.”

Harry couldn’t stop a soft smile from blooming on his face. Of course he knows she wants a garden. Of course he got a house with a quaint but well-kept garden out front. “I hope so, too,” he lied, squeezing the fleece material of her sweatpants as he kept driving.

Charlotte squealed when she saw the garden, spilling out of the car and rushing to the blooming flowers. Harry was following with their bags in his hands, grinning at her happily. “I want to stay here forever,” Charlotte grinned. “And we’re near the beach! Harry, this is lovely,”

Harry didn’t respond, but started placing her bags in her bedroom. “Thank you for coming with me,” she stopped Harry from working for a moment, placing her hand on his arm and furrowing her eyebrows. “You know I can’t do anything without you.”

He shivered when he touched her, placing his hands on her waist. “You know I will do anything to keep you safe, Char. I didn’t… mean for my mission to get so complicated.” He looked deep into her eyes, hoping she’d see the sincerity in his.

Charlotte nodded quietly, looking away from his intense eye contact for a moment. He didn’t like that she was looking away, and moved her chin back to him. “This whole situation is so complicated,” he said softly.

“But it’s not, though,” Charlotte argued weakly, meeting his gaze as hers became fiery. He loved that about her; she fought for him. “I just need to know how you feel, and I’ll leave you alone.” She crossed her arms, though she was so close to him every part of her body was pressed against his and had her almost fainting. But she stood her ground anyway.

Harry frowned. “You know how I feel about you—”

“Clearly I don’t, Harry! I think about that night every second of every day because it was the only time I’ve ever been with someone who treated me well. I hate living with you because I can’t escape you, and you don’t seem to care about me or that night.” Charlotte started to cry, angry tears spilling over her bright eyes, though she stood her ground. She didn’t step away from his intoxicating presence—she couldn’t.

“I love you so much I had to choose your safety over my feelings, Charlotte.” His confession made her step back, her head spinning. “Do you think it’s easy for me to watch you go on dates with shitty men knowing I can treat you better? I live down the fucking hall from you and can’t have you!”

“Who says you can’t have me?”

They both went quiet, breathing heavily. Night had fallen, but neither of them bothered to turn on the light. The windows were open, the curtains billowing and projecting pale moonlight into the bedroom Harry was unpacking her belongings into. Charlotte couldn’t say anything; she couldn’t absorb his words fast enough.

“I think you should go to bed,” his voice was venomous, and Charlotte backed up, tears falling more freely now that she was soaked in his final rejection. “I just… I can’t see you—”

“How can you say you love me, then?” Charlotte asked, voice breaking. He shook his head, bidding her a curt goodnight before closing the door and leaving her alone.

She stared at where he once was for a long time, crying. She would let him break her heart as many times as he wanted—she would always want him, she realized. She was pathetic, letting him ruin her over and over.

Charlotte couldn’t sleep, and started to get angry once more. She wanted to hurt Harry right back. Shrouded by heartbreak, she slipped on a pair of slippers and opened the door to her bedroom, slipping outside and looking at the ajar door of Harry’s bedroom, where she assumed he was sleeping lightly, and walked by it to get to the kitchen, opening the back door as quietly as possible.

She climbed through the wilderness to find a sandy beach not far from the house they were staying at, and sat down in the sand. The night was clear and a bit cool—she thanked herself for putting on a thick sweater before leaving—the tide high and the waves crashing just a few feet from where she was sitting. It was the definition of peaceful, and she was able to forget everything about her complicated relationship and the foreign town she now resides in.

She laid in the sand, staring at the stars as she lost track of time. Her honey hair was fanned around her in a crown, her fingers tucked underneath the hem of her wool sweater to keep them warm.

“Charlotte, Jesus fucking Christ!” Harry yelled angrily, sprinting towards the beach. “Why did you do that?”

Charlotte whipped around, furrowing her eyebrows. “Do what?” She faked innocence.

He glared at her, stopping to sit in the sand beside her. He was in a similar sweater to her, his hair a mess like he had just woken up. “You did this on purpose. I nearly had a heart attack when I saw your bed empty,”

She looked back at the water, her eyes distant. “Just needed some fresh air,” she said simply, and he huffed out a hard sigh.

“You’re going to kill me,” he mumbled, his shoulder brushing hers. She could feel his eyes on her, but she didn’t look at him. She refused to look up at him, she didn’t want to feel her heart break again. “Princess, look at me,” he said gently, his voice breaking.

Charlotte complied, her eyes watering. “I don’t think we’d ever work, anyway,” she reasoned, watching his eyes widen and his mouth fall ajar. She cringed at her own words; she wished they would. She wished she didn’t have to date by wealth or be followed by a manager who loved to shove her in dangerous situations. She wished she could just be with Harry, she wished she could walk around the grocery store or eat dinner at a shitty diner. She wanted to do normal people things, especially with him.

“I want to make it work,” Harry was quiet, digging his feet in the sand and staring at the tattoos littering his thighs as his shorts were bunched up high on his legs.

Charlotte sighed. “I think we either… make it work or never see each other again.” She said, her tone laced with finality. They both looked at each other, Charlotte twisting her lips into her mouth while Harry played with the sand, both nervous.

“I can’t not see you,” Harry said, eyes hardening. Charlotte blushed, shaking her head. “I’m serious, Charlotte.”

“What changed?” She asked. “A few hours ago you made it seem like you didn’t want me.”

“I realized I can’t live without you,” he said simply.

She can’t remember kissing him or who leaned in first, but her lips were on his. It was gentle and heavenly, the moon bright on their bodies, illuminating them. He pushed her back down onto the sand, pinning her hands above her head as the tide tickled their feet. They were both covered in sand, though neither of them seemed to notice or care.

Charlotte gasped as he nipped at her throat, sucking at the skin and groaning as her back arched into his body. She let him bunch her thick sweater around her chest, exposing her to the cool night sky, her nipples pebbling against the breeze.

Harry seemed to pause, the breath knocked out of him as he stared at his girl, open and waiting for him. She wiggled uncomfortably, and Harry hummed playfully. “This is better than my dreams,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to her belly as he tugged at the hem of her sleep shorts. “Can I, baby? Let me see?”

She shivered at his pleading tone, nodding excessively. “Yes, yes, please, H,” she whimpered.

Harry guessed he deserved that nickname again.

He pushed her shorts down, pulling her undies to the side. She gasped at the cold air hitting her heat. He pushed her legs open, his hands exploring her legs as he tried to warm her up as goosebumps erupted on her skin. “Please, Harry,” she whispered, closing her legs before opening them to try and find some sort of relief.

He ducked down, pressing the softest of kisses to her clit. She jumped, her body bouncing back as she covered her mouth with her hand, not wanting to disturb the serenity of the quiet beach. She could barely spare a glance down at Harry—the surf crashing against the sand behind her bodyguard who was unraveled with hungry eyes was almost too much to bear.

His long hair was tied back, but she pushed her fingers through his curls to hold some semblance of control. He pushed his tongue through her folds, his eyes holding onto hers as he puckered his lips over her. Her jaw dropped and her eyebrows furrowed as she struggled to hold onto his eye contact.

The feeling was ethereal. Harry was groaning against her like this was his first drink of water after days of drought, his hands holding her hips down into the sand to stop her from squirming. “Harry,” Charlotte whispered, unable to say anything other than his name. “H, want to f-feel you—fuck,” she dropped her head into the sand, her legs going lax as her body struggled to comprehend the pleasure.

“You are feeling me, baby,” Harry pulled away slightly, his mouth dripping in her arousal. Charlotte whined out at his teasing, though it quickly turned to gasps when he dove back into her, pressing wet kisses to her clit before climbing up her body. “You wanna feel more of me?” He hummed, watching as she nodded mindlessly, her eyes closing in a daze. “Say it,”

Charlotte started to shiver as she looked up at him, concentrating on his features. “Please, please want you to fuck me,” she whispered, her hands climbing up his chest to squeeze his shoulders, wanting to be as close to him as possible.

Harry seemed lost in her for a moment, looking possessed as he leaned down to kiss her tenderly before pushing her thighs up to her chest and pushed his boxer briefs down his legs. She was so wet from his mouth and her arousal he could practically feel her welcoming him in. “I love you,” his voice was gruff, his eyes wild as he pushed into her. She gasped out at the intrusion, gripping his sweater.

“I love you,” she whispered back, feeling equally as wild. “I don’t want you to leave.” Charlotte’s nose nudged against his, forcing herself to stare at him despite the feeling of his soft thrusts wanting her to collapse against the sand, sandwiched between her bodyguard and the earth.

“I won’t, Char,” he held her close to him, almost like he was afraid she’d wither away in his arms.

They fell into a mess of moans and whimpers as he picked up the pace, trying to show her how he’d always take care of her. He was pushing into her at a damning place, his thumb brutally touching her clit, placing harsh and unrelenting pressure against it. Charlotte could feel herself slipping away as he manhandled her, a smile playing on her face as he showed her how hard he loved her.

“That feels good, princess?” Harry smirked breathlessly. “Is my baby smiling because she knows she has someone who would kill for her?”

Charlotte threw her head back as he tweaked her nipple. “Mhm,” she managed to cry out, squeezing her legs around him tighter. She had seen Harry in action before, and he had the same unhinged look on his face now. He was uncontrollable, almost animal-like. 

Without thinking much, she took his hand from her belly, bringing it to her neck and encouraging him to squeeze it. His eyes dilated and his hand wrapping around her petite neck easily. She opened her mouth in a soft whimper, arching her back as he picked his face, the cold water tickling their legs as the tide seemed to rise.

“G-gonna cum,” she looked up at him, her voice hoarse from the pressure on her throat. “H, please,” Harry used his free hand to rub her clit, his hips stuttering as he tightened his grip on her windpipe. They both released together, Harry dropping his head to her chest as euphoria filled his head, his hands holding her hips and rubbing soothing circles on the skin there.

They laid in silence for a few moments, until Isa played with his hair and tilted his chin up to look at her. “The water is freezing,” she said quietly, studying his beautiful, fucked out face. She loved him. A lot. “And my back hurts.” She added in a teasing tone.

“We can’t have that,” he hummed, kissing her jaw and pulling them both up from the sand. He scooped her up, watching as she buried her head in his chest as he started walking across the beach, stepping into the woods beyond it as he spotted the small cottage.

“We should live here forever,” Charlotte said dreamily as Harry fumbled to unlock the back door. “It has a garden and there’s no Eric and you’re here.”

Harry kicked the door shut behind him, leaning down to kiss her forehead. “That sounds perfect, Char,” he smiled, carrying her to his bedroom and dropping her onto the bed before following behind her quickly. He kissed her jaw before flopping beside her. “We’re gonna get sand in my bed.” He groaned, and she lulled her head over to face him.

“Too sleepy to shower. Tomorrow,” she mumbled, her eyes closing before fluttering open and repeating itself. Harry pushed strands of hair out of her face, his thumb pressing against her cheek. 

Even long after she fell asleep, Harry laid awake, admiring her. The way the moonlight fell over the coves of her face, how her hair fell behind her in sandy waves, how her arms wrapped around one of his, cuddling with his bicep. She was a proper angel, he was so lucky she had forgiven him and given him another chance.

He didn’t want to sleep. He didn’t want to miss a chance to protect her, but his body was exhausted and he felt himself drifting away.

—

Harry woke up to an empty bed. He shot up, eyes widening as he felt around for Charlotte, though she wasn’t there. No one was there.

He quickly grabbed his gun and whipped open the bedroom door, eyes wild and fear constricting in his chest as he checked her bedroom to see it untouched. Then he checked the kitchen. It was eerily quiet in the cottage, and Charlotte was nowhere in sight.

He took a deep, shaky breath. “Char?” Harry called out, opening the front door.

She wouldn’t just leave. Harry knew that. Charlotte didn’t have anywhere to go—he drove her to the middle of northern California, he fell asleep with her tight in his arms. “Charlotte?” He called again to no avail.

Panic rose in his throat as he immediately tried calling her, though it went straight to voicemail each time. This was Harry’s worst nightmare, flashes of last night burning in his brain. He didn’t want to sleep because he was afraid she’d disappear. He called her phone again and again, then went to see if her clothes were still unpacked in the closet.

Everything was untouched, like Charlotte never lived there. He lost her.

[f4iryfied]

wrote a lil fic abt violet’s pov in xaden’s chapter

//spoilers//

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“Why is braiding hair so fucking hard?” Xaden asks, grumbling. “Oh, it can’t be that hard, you just take the strands and twist them over each other in a pattern” I respond. A smile appears across my face seeing him struggle with something as simple as braiding my hair. But I also feel the need to smile because he’s here, a busy wingleader, taking the time to do something as simple as braiding my hair. Deep down, Xaden is such a softie. My softie. We’re back in Xaden’s room, which has soon become my favourite place. I’m seated cross-legged on his carpet floor in between his knees, while he’s on the bed. “Is this alright Violence?” I take a look at his work, and seconds pass. “Violence?” “It’s pretty good for a beginner…” I replied. “When I said never lie to me, I meant it.” he says playfully. “Okay, it’s pretty shit. But I love it nonetheless.” I tilt my head up, and he leans down. My lips fit on his so perfectly, and I think to myself how grateful I am for him, and these moments. I want to record and treasure them somewhere forever.

I slowly open my eyes, and notice I’m lying on an unfamiliar yet comfortable bed, in a strange room, with only one recognizable thing. Xaden. Sitting in a chair against the wall, I recognize him. He’s already overtaken my thoughts, and now my dreams. This man has me in his clutches, and I pray he never lets go. “You’re awake.” he says to me, with a strained and hoarse voice. As he walks to me, I notice his appearance; sleepless eyes, paler skin, and fresh scars. What happened? He sits by me and asks to look at my side. Stretching my arms, I nod. I don’t have it in me to speak words right now. Xaden gently lifts my nightdress, clearly searching for something I’m unaware about. A mark or scar perhaps? A thin silver line maps the area just above my hip bone. I hear a whisper of the word, ‘miraculous’ from him. ‘What’s miraculous?” I echoed.

“Water” he croaks. Not the response to my question, but I do feel thirsty. He pours me a glass, and I don’t miss his shaky hands. A sense of dread overcomes me, I’m most definitely missing something. I gratefully take the glass and down it all, murmuring my thanks. He finally answers my question. “You are.” I meet his eyes, and we lose ourselves in each other. “You are miraculous, I was fucking terrified, Violet. There aren’t adequate words.”

He seems genuinely shaken for me which is confusing because I feel alright. In an attempt to calm him, I relax my hand above his heart, which is beating more than usual. “I’m fine, Xaden.” “I thought I was going to lose you” he chokes out. I feel a caress of his lips on my forehead and then my temple. He has a distraught look on his face, perhaps even shame. Lose me? I know being a rider means every second of your life is either in danger or about to be in danger, but we haven’t had any upcoming dangerous events lately. And with Liam as my shadow, Xaden’s influence, or my lightning signet, no one has dared to try to attack me again. “You aren’t going to lose me,” I insisted. I kissed him, and my kiss definitely helped because he passionately returned the kiss. Using his tongue in ways that steals away my thought process. Xaden pulls away and takes my hands into his, promising to make it up to me. “I’m not saying we won’t fight or you won’t want to throw those daggers at me when I’m inevitably an ass, but I swear I will always strive to do better.” Another strange confession, this feels like a fever dream. “Make what up to me?” His brow furrows and confusion blooms across his face. “How much do you remember? By the time we got you here, the poison spread to your brain and—” I cut him off. The memories flood back. Us arriving at Athebyne, the fliers, Xaden’s betrayal, the venin. And me falling. I remember my acceptance of death at that moment. I was ready to let go. I tug my hands away, I just kissed the guy who didn’t think twice about lying to me after I’d given him… everything. Everything.

oh wow my first fanfic ever? lmk what u guys think!! and is anyone counting the days down to iron flame, ughh I’m so impatient. part 2 perhaps idk ..🤷🏾‍♀️

[darklotuspublishing]

Stitched in Shadows: A Love Bound by Obsession Chapter Two

The next morning came too quickly for my taste. I had been up all night despite drinking enough whiskey to kill a horse. My head was pounding but, surprisingly enough, I didn’t have the urge to throw up. Hangovers for me were different than they were for other people. Despite the pounding in my head that would have brought a grown man to his knees, I was still able to function.

My intercom chimed and the security guard’s voice came over the speaker, “Miss Nakamura, there’s a Mister Hayashi here to see you.” He spoke.

I groaned and hit the button, “Send him up.” I responded before flopping back against the couch. I heard “Yes ma’am” over the intercom within a few seconds. What could Ryusei possibly want from me at this hour? He was supposed to be at Hajime’s place, did plans change? Before I could even begin to process what was going on, Ryusei burst through my front door looking like he had just watched his mother die. The look on his face told me that something was wrong.

“What’s the problem Ryusei? Surely, you’re not here to talk.” I said, the tone of my voice giving away that I wasn’t in the mood to be friendly.

“You need to turn on channel eight,” Ryusei responded, his voice breaking as he spoke. My face dropped upon hearing that. Ryusei was normally very level-headed; if he was nearly in tears, I knew I needed to be concerned. Nothing ever really bothered him, so his demeanor was always calm. Whenever something bothered Ryusei, he tried not to show any reaction. I knew this time it was different, he seemed distraught. What happened to make him react this way?

Grabbing the remote, I turned on the TV and switched it to channel eight. The news story that was being reported on got my attention. Sitting up, I stared intently at the screen, waiting for the headline. The crime scene behind the reporter looked familiar but I couldn’t place it until the reporter began to speak and I felt my heart drop. What was going on? This had to be some kind of joke.

“Hajime Nishiyama was found deceased in his Shinjuku apartment this morning by a neighbor who claimed to have heard screaming coming from the unit late last night.” The reporter said while the EMTs brought Hajime’s body out in a black body bag. It was as if everything crashed around me in an instant. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. Hajime, my assistant but most importantly, my best friend, was dead? Who would be so heartless and take the life of someone who had never done anything wrong?

“Haji’s dead Sora. My boyfriend is dead and now I’m alone. Who would do something like this? Hajime wouldn’t hurt a fly Sora. Why him? Why not someone who would be better off dead? I don’t get it. I just don’t get it Sora. Hajime didn’t deserve this.” Ryusei said, finally breaking down in tears. Just the sight of him crying like that broke my heart. Ryusei and Hajime had been together since High School and now that all went down the drain. I was the one who introduced Ryusei to Hajime back then. It was a match made in Heaven when they started dating. That was the first time Hajime had genuinely smiled since coming out to me as transgender. Since he was my best friend, I had embraced him with open arms and complete acceptance. Regardless of his identity, Hajime was my best friend and was always going to be my twin flame. Now, that flame has been snuffed out all too soon, leaving me feeling empty inside.

“Did you go see Hajime last night?” I asked, my voice breaking. Ryusei could only shake his head in response. Sobs racked his body, and he was on the verge of collapsing. With every sob that escaped Ryusei’s throat, I felt my heart break even more. Ryusei was beyond heartbroken. He had just lost the love of his life. The poor man probably felt lost without Hajime. It took everything I had in me not to cry. I was never the best at comforting people so all I could do was sit there and let Ryusei cry and scream. Ryusei left shortly after calming down, leaving me alone with my thoughts. Who would target Hajime like this? He never made any enemies out of anyone. Hajime was the sweetest man I knew.

My day was spent at home, racking my brain, and trying not to cry. I made it known to the security guard that any visitors to my penthouse were to be turned away. Every time I tried to think of who would want Hajime dead, I came up empty. Hajime didn’t deserve to die, especially after everything he had been through. My entire world felt like it was crashing down. Nothing would be the same without Hajime.

I remember it like it was yesterday. School had been closed because of a massive snowstorm and I was at home enjoying the warmth of the fireplace. My time alone was interrupted by a knock at the door and when I opened it, Hajime was standing there, eyes red and puffy from crying and his entire body trembling. I had let him into the house and listened as he talked about being kicked out by his parents because he came out as transgender, the other students at school bullying him for the same reason, and his fear of losing me as a friend over it. All I could do at that time was laugh and reassure him that he wouldn’t lose me as a friend. From that day on, we were truly inseparable.

Once the sun went down, I found myself sitting on the balcony, staring off into the distance. While I was out there, the familiar flash of a camera caught my attention. Someone was watching me, and they knew I was alone. My anxiety spiked to an extreme level, and I began to panic. Within seconds I was rushing inside and locking the balcony door. Why was I the one being watched? What was so special about me?

Hastily, I ran to my bedroom, slamming the door shut and locking it. It felt like I was having a nightmare that I just couldn’t wake up from. Whoever was watching me must have known that I had seen the flash of their camera. Hopefully, that fact was enough to scare them away. I just didn’t have the energy to confront my stalker.

The night was spent hidden in my bedroom, hopefully away from the prying eyes of my stalker. Whoever it was had a sick sense of humor. Throughout the night, I kept hearing someone tapping at my bedroom window. The curtains were closed, and I kept the lights off so that whoever was outside couldn’t see my silhouette through the curtains. This was all some sick game to them and my mental and emotional distress was their reward. My stalker wanted me to know that they were there.

Sleep would be foreign to me tonight. Between the incessant tapping at my window and the silent sobs that finally broke free, I understood I wouldn’t be sleeping tonight. I would have to break the news to the rest of my employees in the morning if they hadn’t already heard about Hajime. Tomorrow will be a grim day, and I know that nobody will want to work. Unfortunately, with my upcoming clothing line releases, I’ll have to make everyone work while grieving.

Throughout the night I could hear the tapping grow louder. Sometimes it would come in threes, like how paranormal investigators in those American horror movies would describe demonic activity. Other times, the tapping would have a pattern to it. Tap tap, pause, tap tap tap, the noise just wouldn’t stop. No matter how much I silently prayed and pleaded to have the tapping stop, it wouldn’t.

The morning came slowly with the rise of the sun and the light coming through the curtains. I must have fallen asleep at some point because despite the sunlight being muted but the curtains, I couldn’t help but squint at the brightness. Whoever was at my window last night wasn’t there anymore because the tapping had finally stopped. Work today would be long and tiring, especially considering the news that I would have to deliver to the rest of my employees. I was dreading it already and the day had just barely started. No amount of coffee or nicotine would be able to get me through the day.

I got up from the floor and slowly made my way to the bathroom to assess just how bad I looked after staying awake and crying most of the night. The sight of my reflection in the mirror wasn’t pretty. My eyes were still red and swollen from crying and my face was extremely pale. It was likely because I had been awake most of the night and hadn’t taken care of myself after finding out about Hajime’s death. Turning on the water, I bent over the sink, splashing cold water on my face to try and shock some of the color back into my complexion. After a few moments of splashing water in my face, I looked in the mirror again. The swelling around my eyes had gone down and my skin was back to its normal pale ivory color.

My normal Yves Saint Laurent suit was traded for a simple Chanel dress with a matching blazer and a pair of black Louboutin heels. I didn’t want to put much effort into my appearance today but, I still had to look presentable since I am the head of a fashion design company. My makeup was simple, with just a bit of foundation and concealer to even out my complexion, a quick swipe over my waterline with some eyeliner, mascara, and a nude lip gloss. This was vastly different from the makeup looks I would normally go for on a day-to-day basis.

Time seemed to move even slower today. The minutes were dragging on as I prepared for my walk to work. As I walked out of my bedroom, the doorbell rang and a small stack of what appeared to be papers slid underneath the door. Despite my feelings of despair, my curiosity was piqued. What were those papers? Some kind of letter addressed to me? More photographs from my stalker?

Going over to the front door, I picked up the stack of papers and immediately felt sick to my stomach. These were more photos, but they weren’t of me. The photos were of Hajime in his final moments of life. In each one, Hajime was gagged, bound, and completely naked. Did the sick creep who killed him go as far as raping him first? Tears threatened to spill over the more I looked at the sickening final moments of my best friend's life. The papers at the bottom of the stack caught my attention. What was it? Some kind of letter but written in the form of a poem?

I started reading it, “I did it for you. I did it for us. He was corrupting my sweet cherry blossom. A thorn in my side that needed to be plucked. Hair as dark as the night sky. Eyes crystalline like precious gems. You’re already mine. You just don’t know it yet.” The words echoed in my mind. Was this an admission of guilt to the crime of killing Hajime? Even reading this note made me feel sick to my stomach. I threw the note on the coffee table along with the pictures and rushed out the front door, making my way to the office. The walk felt like it had taken several hours when it had only been five minutes.

Walking into the building, I told the receptionist to call for an emergency staff meeting and went to the conference room. The conference room was large enough that everyone would fit inside of it. My employees filed into the room one by one, their expressions laced with concern and confusion. On a typical day, I would not call a staff meeting unless it was to discuss plans for a new clothing line. It was as if they knew that this time was different.

“Thank you all for coming. I have some news regarding a member of our team. My assistant, Hajime Nishiyama, passed away the other night. He will no longer be with us in person at the international exhibition. Please stop by my office with any questions that you may have. We have deadlines to meet so please get back to work.” I announced, trying to keep my emotions in check. Everyone knew how close Hajime and I were, so it came as a shock when I announced his death. My employees remained silent and simply nodded, filing out of the room one after the other.

The room was silent after everyone left. I was alone and in a matter of seconds, the tears that I had been holding back broke free. Sobs racked my body, causing me to tremble and my makeup to run down my face. Even though I spent most of last night crying over Hajime’s death, I still had more tears to shed. Crying was not something that I did very often but when I did, people knew that I was hurting.

My receptionist came back into the room, “Miss Nakamura, it’s alright if you need to go home for the day. We can always call you if something happens.” She said, trying to sound as sincere as possible. I nodded and grabbed a tissue from the box on the table. Wiping the now-ruined makeup from my face, I left the room. It was obvious that I was in no condition to work today. Making my way out of the building, I glanced over at Hajime’s empty desk, the void in my heart growing even more as I remembered that he wouldn’t be coming back.

Walking out the doors, I headed back towards my apartment complex. This was one perk of living in the city, there were several apartment complexes within walking distance of my office and each one had a penthouse suite that occupied the entire top floor. I was lucky enough to be able to afford the nicest one in the city. As I entered the apartment complex, I was greeted by the security guard. The elevator dinged and I stepped inside, hitting the button for the top floor.

Once I reached the top floor, I stepped out of the elevator only to be met with my front door wide open. I could have sworn that I had closed it on my way out. Did someone break into my penthouse? Was I robbed while I was out of my home? Did building maintenance stop by while I was gone and forget to close the door on the way out?

Slowly, I entered my penthouse, trying to keep my steps silent. Nothing had been stolen or even broken in the penthouse. Quietly, I walked through the hall, checking each room for missing or out-of-place items and a possible hidden intruder. My investigation came up empty and it became evident that I must have forgotten to close the front door when I left. This discovery allowed me to breathe a sigh of relief as I shut the front door and went to my bedroom to change out of my dress and into something more comfortable.

Stripping out of my work clothes, I put on my silk night dress and lay in bed. My eyes were glued to the ceiling as my thoughts drifted back to Hajime. I tried to remember all the good times we had together but my mind always drifted back to those grotesque pictures of his final moments. Just the thought of how Hajime was treated in those final moments made me sick to my stomach. Who would do such a thing? Wasn’t Hajime humiliated enough in his life? The questions continued to be unanswered as I drifted off into a restless sleep. I wanted to know what Hajime felt during those final moments of his life. Was he afraid? Did he beg for his life?

  I could only hope that Ryusei was finding some form of comfort after losing Hajime. His heart was shattered when he found out that Hajime was dead. The way he screamed and cried on my living room floor was heartbreaking. I wanted to comfort him at that time, but I just didn't know how to do it. Those two were soul mates and now Ryusei was alone. Most people were afraid of Ryusei because of his appearance but Hajime found him more attractive than intimidating. Even though Hajime was fully convinced that he didn't want children, there was a part of him that wanted to start a family with Ryusei even though that meant that they would have to adopt. Now, Hajime wouldn't get to fulfill that dream of being a parent.

 My time sleeping was spent tossing and turning. If anyone looked inside, they would see that I was restless all night. Dreams about Hajime and the things that could have been done to him during his final moments plagued my mind. I felt useless while I slept. If only I had just convinced Hajime to stay with me that night, maybe, just maybe, he would still be alive right now. I felt responsible for his death because I didn't try to convince him to spend the night with me instead of going home the night he was killed. I was in and out of sleep, waking up briefly every so often and then immediately going back to sleep every time I realized that I was dreaming. The guilt that I felt was so strong that I would be surprised if I didn't have a complete breakdown tomorrow morning. I didn't want to wake up tomorrow morning, but I knew that I would since I hadn't made any attempts on my own life. 

[the-one-where-casey-watches-tv]

Hacks episode 1.10 "I Think She Will"

I should leave The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel alone… but I watched Hacks and thought, “now here is a show that understands and respects standup comedy”. Deborah and Ava are bitingly funny, both when working and not. But I chose this particular episode because it features one of the most impressive feats of both comedy and storytelling I’ve ever seen: standup at a funeral. And it works!! Midge could never.

This episode opens with Deborah being mystifyingly cold to Ava in the days leading up to her big show: the debut of her new set at her final show at the Palmetto. Her attitude is only a mystery to Ava, though; we know Marcus told her about Ava’s sneaking back to LA for a job interview. It’s unfortunate, because it’s one of the few times Ava actually didn’t do anything wrong, but when it all comes to a head perhaps it’s her rightness that makes Deborah think.

I’m actually not gonna talk about Marcus anymore though. I loved him in the beginning, but he turned into a kinda lonely, bitter sad sack and his meet-cute with the water guy quickly devolves in this episode into heavy-handed melodrama. But he snitched on Ava and that’s why Deborah’s acting like that.

The unfortunate timing continues when Ava gets a call from her mom- her dad had another stroke, and she needs to come home. Ava, distraught for her family but still aware of the significance of missing Deborah’s show, nervously enters Deborah’s dressing room with her opening night gift and explains the situation. Expecting her to put up a fight, she’s confused and hurt when Deborah stoically seems not to care. Of course, we know Deborah’s trust in her has already been broken.

Jean Smart and Hannah Einbinder in Hacks. Image courtesy of Decider.

I appreciate that this show made Ava’s home life a part of this story. Her character needs it for us to sympathize with her- Ava rocks, except for when she does something inexplicably dumb, which is unfortunately often- but it also helps in this climactic moment to put things in perspective. One thing about Ava and Deborah, they care very, very much about their work. But comedy is not life and death, and Ava needs to go home. So, she walks out.

But! She passes Jimmy in the hallway, who asks her why Deborah isn’t doing her new set anymore. Well, this decision was clearly made in the last two minutes. So, Ava storms back into the dressing room, telling Deborah that anger at her is a ridiculous reason to throw away everything they’ve worked on.

Deborah has been incredibly rude to Ava in the past- she was genuinely brutal in the early episodes. The tear down on the bus tour? Actually not okay. But this is about to be the fight of all fights. As soon as Ava confronts her about abandoning the new material, Deborah admits that she knew Ava lied to go to the job interview. With everything that’s happened since, this is laughable to Ava. She did so right by Deborah in that interview, and she has a point when she replies, “this is why I had to lie to you about that job interview. Because your ego doesn’t allow you to take in information like a normal human being. No one’s allowed to communicate honestly. And if they do, you either shut them out or push them away or, I don’t know- hit them with your car”.

Deborah really is hiding right now. She shields herself with “I don’t really think about you… this isn’t about you. I just don’t want to do it. I know what works. The old stuff works, so that’s what I’m doing”. None of that is true. Sometimes, Deborah honestly makes me so sad. When she’s just grinning and bearing it while doing things like pizza ads and having a street named after her, letting people pretend to respect her in public while pulling her prized residency out from under her. It’s so sad. You can see it in her eyes.

And absolutely none of that is lost on Ava. “What a giant waste of time this all was… Oh I’m so sorry. What great opportunity did I keep you from? Does KFC want you to be the new Colonel Sanders? … You’re just scared to do the hard thing, so you’re jumping at the first possible chance to bail. You’re gonna do the same old tired shit you always do because I was right the day I met you. You are a fucking hack.”

And then Deborah slaps her in the face. Honestly, Ava says it best: “who slaps people?” This show is so good at organically displaying their generational differences. It doesn’t explain them or belabor them, but it’s the foundation of their base source of conflict. First of all, slapping someone across the face really is a boomer thing to do. And I won’t defend it, but we can understand where that well of emotion came from.

To Deborah’s standards of hard work and ethics, she’s the furthest thing from a hack. That integrity is so important to her. In fact, doing this new material poses a threat to everything she’s built the hard- and right- way. But to Ava, who measures integrity by authenticity and creativity, Deborah’s values are actively counterproductive.

In this instance, Ava’s right. Deborah, alone now, opens Ava’s gift. It’s Deborah’s Time Magazine cover, framed, with the title reading, “Will This Woman Make History?” In a note tucked into the frame, Ava’s written “I think she will”. Maybe this is what softens Deborah enough to see Ava’s point, but regardless, she does the new material.

Jean Smart in "I Think She Will". Image courtesy of IMDb.

Ava, meanwhile, is back home helping her mom deal with her dad’s arrangements. She wakes up early the next morning- before Kelly Ripa’s day is done (Deborah has rubbed off on her too)- and is immediately accosted by her mom being kind of nutty. She’s so realistic and funny in the “can you believe she just threw that into conversation” way that moms are:

“You know, you’ve chosen such an unstable career, and no mother wants to watch her child suffer. And now we’ll have to euthanize the cat.”

“What?”

“Yes! We have to euthanize Mr. Cream Pie because he’s going to have to leave this room when you move in, and it is just wrong to take a cat back to the shelter, Ava. It’s just wrong… For the service, you’re reading Lamentations.”

“Oh. Well, I wanted to read a eulogy. I just started working on it.”

“A eulogy? Ava, please. It’s your father’s funeral, I don’t need you saying anything crazy, like when you told your grandmother you were pro-choice.”

“But I am pro-choice.”

“Yeah, but you don’t need to say it.”

I wish I wrote that tbh. I’m still laughing. But of course, it’s good-natured laughter because we really feel for her mom at the same time. In the two, maybe three snapshots that we’ve seen of Ava’s parents before this, we’ve learned that she was an overworked and attentive caretaker to Ava’s dad, and Ava loves them both very much amidst all the layers to this dynamic.

So Ava doesn’t read a eulogy at the funeral, and when the room is asked if anyone would like to come up and say a few words about Dennis, it’s crickets. Until:

“Oh, God. This is so awkward. This is painful. Excuse me. This is not how you’re supposed to do this. Excuse me. Sorry- if you wouldn’t mind. Yeah, see you can’t just ask people to come up impromptu and not warmed up. Because it’s just too hard to do cold, you know. There’s just too much pressure. And these people are exhausted. It’s exhausting to lose a loved one. And now everybody’s uncomfortable because they think that no one has anything nice to say about this man. And I know that you do.”

Guess who! Ava’s words must have really stuck with Deborah, because not only did she do her new set, but she apparently did some digging and confirmed Ava’s story. And felt bad enough about it to show up. I love this scene so much because everything she’s saying feels so organic and so true. She cuts the tension as if she had a knife, and she does it by validating these people and the man they’re there to honor. It’s not these people making this awkward, it’s this circumstance. And if Deborah fancies herself anything, it’s a woman of the people, as we’ll see next season when she takes her show on the road. So, she starts doing some crowd work:

“So, let’s try this again. You, sir! How did you know Dennis?”

“Uh, he was my cousin.”

“Oh, I’m sorry for your loss.”

“Thank you.”

“What was the drunkest you ever saw him?”

She gets the crowd talking, and more importantly, laughing. They start telling stories, with everyone else chiming in with choruses of “Oh my God, I forgot about that!” and the like. It’s really sweet and reaffirms for me the idea that you can laugh with love.

After the services, Deborah sits on Ava’s bed. Ava thanks her for making her mom laugh, and Deborah apologizes- sincerely- for hitting her. Incorporating a literal slap out of anger into this show felt like a risky thing to do; would Ava- and the audience demographic that her character brings to this show- be able to get past something like that? But I think it’s neither overblown nor underblown. It was a great apology, and she put some action behind it as well, given that she’s in Ava’s childhood bedroom right now. Also, Ava’s done some dumb shit of her own, but Deborah doesn’t know about that yet.

Jean Smart in "I Think She Will". Image courtesy of IMDb.

In that conversation, Deborah also admits to doing the new material, to Ava’s delight, and bombing, to Ava’s disappointment (“did you come all the way here to bury me with my dad?”). But Deborah is buzzing. She bombed, but she sees the potential. She’s excited and challenged by her work for the first time in a very long time. She wants to take it on the road, and she wants Ava to come with her, because she’s “too good to quit”. A ‘tour’ would be too strong a word for the state fairs and open mic drop-ins she’s planning, but she’s not above anything.

It’s really energizing and endearing to see all these human sides of Deborah. In terms of their growth, they really are both learning from each other. And it’s so nice to see the act of improving a piece of work like this. To shatter the illusion that talent is this mystical thing one either has or doesn’t. The thing that’s actually hard to come by is the drive to work and work until it works. And that’s what Deborah and Ava both see in each other.

I don’t think Midge Maisel ever bombed. I don’t think her world ever made her take a good hard look at her material and acknowledge that it’s not there yet, but it can be. Ambition is the trait I’d like to romanticize when we talk about art, over an inexplicable “knack” someone has that can’t be harnessed or understood. And I really appreciate Hacks for doing that.

So, this season finale sends Deborah and Ava on the road, Ava with her dad’s ashes in a tennis ball container to see the world. Oh yeah, and in the time between their fight and Deborah’s showing up to the funeral, Ava called those job interview people and violated her NDA to give them all the dirt on Deborah she could think of. It’s the last stupid, self-made sticky situation Ava will find herself in, thank God, and season two is even stronger for having her learn from her mistakes.

Season three is in the works, and I, for one, am hoping to see a Deborah Vance comedy special in full. That would make a pretty unique episode, I think.

[five-sparrows-two-pennies]

goodbye & farewell

7 August 2024

Dear L,

I’m going to say one more thing and then we’ll put it to bed.

I loved you. You’d probably be surprised to hear me say it, at least initially, but you would believe me. It wasn’t hard to see. I didn’t dare confess it to anyone before, but I feel I can say it now.

The first time we talked, just you and I, I knew my heart was in trouble. We barely knew anything about each other before that, but that day last December, somehow you got onto talking about how you dated a non-Christian girl once (for four years) and how you should have known better because of your parents, who you said were divorced, and how you’d been single for the last four years, and many other things - but in all of that, I saw your faith and your walk with God, and I saw the same guy as the one I’d cheekily watched on YouTube giving sermons (without your knowledge). And I knew you were someone who would understand the things most troublesome to me. All of a sudden, I wasn’t thinking about Harry anymore - I was thinking about you.

Within a matter of days, we were at the beach, confessing that we had both thought about it, but agreed that we could never be together because of our different theological beliefs. I know now that you gave me up that day and drew a line you wouldn’t cross. I thought I did too, but I guess my heart couldn’t help itself.

About a month after that, you came in and sat down, and told me about your family situation when you were growing up. And I never would have imagined that things like that actually happened to a person outside of made-up stories. And seeing the person you were now, despite that, told me how strong you were. If I had to pinpoint when I really started falling for you, hard, it would be that moment. I want to thank you for sharing that with me, because that day, you broke the chains of shame that were bound around my heart, shame about what was happening in my own family.

In February, you had to go away. And we decided it would be best not to keep in touch until you got back - which you said might be May, June, July… You didn’t know. But before we said bye on the phone, you asked if you could just say one thing: How was it possible that somebody could be so genuine and pure of heart? You were talking about me.

Two months passed. I tried every day to love people as God wanted me to, and to perform the duties He required of me. But I was miserable. I thought I would be over you in two weeks. I was wrong. Then, one day, out of the blue, you left me a voicemail, and asked to talk on the phone. You needed my help with something. I could blame you for reaching out and breaking our pact, but I don’t want to do that. Because the truth is, I wasn’t ready to let you go yet. Since that day, we’ve talked pretty much every day.

At some point, over the phone, I told you about my family and it was the first time you heard me in such a state (crying my eyes out). You told me a story, about the incident you witnessed as a young boy, of what your father did to your mum. You told me about how you would be so worried and anxious, you couldn’t eat anything, or else you’d throw up. You told me about how your anxiety probably stemmed from those childhood incidents. I told God that night I just wanted to love you. It was ironic, because here I was, beginning to wonder whether I loved you, but I remembered clearly telling God in the past that I did not want to marry a man who got very anxious about things.

One time, you said something that left me distraught - it felt like a rejection. We spoke on the phone, and you said that wasn’t what you meant at all. I confessed, in tears, I still had feelings for you and you said you liked me too. You told me you needed me to know that you thought I was really special. It was sweet. You left me a voicemail the next morning telling me I had everything a Christian guy would want in a wife.

There was a week or two in between, when it became emotionally unbearable for me to keep going as we were - I guess a sort of intimacy without commitment - and I let you go again. You didn’t text me for a couple of days while on that road trip with the two girls, and I realised I cared too much. I had to let you go. But circumstance - you needing help again, and me having given you permission to reach out if you needed me - brought us back. This was the start of June.

You said you couldn’t be responsible for causing me emotional pain, and you didn’t want to play with my feelings, and so, even though you didn’t want to stop interacting with me, you had to. I said okay. We would minimise our interactions. And then I asked you for advice about something, because I knew you would know what to say, and I really was quite stressed about it, and well, it seems our previous resolve was lost to the wind and we’ve been talking ever since.

You received some bad news in late June, and it hit you really hard. I felt I absorbed some of your anxiety, and I was so worried about you. I normally sleep very well, no matter how I feel, but I slept fretfully that night, after we spoke on the phone, and woke up at 4am concerned about you. I don't think I had ever felt that worried about anyone ever. I knew I cared very deeply about you.

I made up my mind to be there for you, to try my best to not let my feelings overcome me and just be a good friend for you. I later learnt that during that particularly tough week, I was the only person you talked to. You didn’t feel like talking to anyone else, but you wanted to talk to me. You had asked to call me the night of the bad news, because you just wanted to talk to somebody before you went to sleep, and I loved that you picked me.

God taught me that I only got anxious when I made an idol of you, when I was seeking something from you that I should have been seeking from God - whether it was reassurance that you liked me, or comfort during sad times. I determined, then, to not make an idol of you, to not turn to you to meet my emotional needs, but to just love you, in the way God wants all of us to love. And there was a lot of peace in doing that.

I learnt that loving a person was not so easy. Sometimes, when things were particularly hard, I felt God challenging me: Are you sure you love him? It was exhausting watching the videos you sent me about Adventist beliefs. The more I read about Ellen White, the angrier I got. I told you I didn’t like her very much. You didn’t get much sleep that night. I was sorry about that, and I resolved never to reply to you while I was upset at something you said regarding your beliefs.

And then, one day mid-July, it happened again - it had been building up and I needed to address it: what were we doing? You were happy for me to call you; it was a Sunday afternoon. We talked for two hours on the phone. I wondered if you had any hopes for us, but I knew it wasn’t fair to ask you without having said anything myself, so instead I confessed my own feelings. I told you I was torn between completely letting you go, and allowing myself to hope and pray that God might give you to me. You told me to keep praying that, but cheekily added that it might not happen the way I expect it to. I think we both know what you meant, though you refused to say it outright. You said a lot of things, but never actually said you liked me, and I couldn’t help myself so I asked: Did you actually like me? It wasn't obvious to me. You said you have made it obvious in your actions. I was one of the very few people you had been keeping up to date with the situation you were in (trying to get back home). You agreed to tell me if your feelings changed at any point - if you weren’t attracted to me anymore, or found yourself attracted to someone else, you would tell me, and you asked me to do the same. That gave me some reassurance going forward. It ended up being a fun phone call. We laughed a lot.

There was a night where I was racked with tears over something that happened at home. God gave me the good sense to not turn to you for comfort, or even distraction. I couldn’t make you an idol. I am thankful to Him for that good sense.

I caught up with Ariel and Jean on Saturday, and Ariel told me something profound when I told them about you. Her friend recently gave her some advice: whenever she was uncertain if something was God’s will for her or not, she would pray for God to close the door if it wasn't His will for her. And every time, God would do something that closed the door, and within 48 hours. But of course, before you pray it, you have to really mean it. The other thing you should pray, she said, was for God to prepare your heart if He does closes the door. I prayed both prayers that very day, on the drive home.

Yesterday, I (unintentionally) did something which annoyed you and you (unintentionally) said something which upset me. Prior to that, you had made a comment in a voicemail that you made up your mind four years ago that the next girl you dated would have to be a Seventh Day Adventist. And so I couldn’t help myself - I asked why you asked me to go on that walk at the beach in the first place then. You said your intentions were to establish some clear boundaries, because things were getting a little vague. I didn’t realise those were your intentions that day, because I went into it determined to do the same, so it felt like it was my initiative. Anyway, because I was hormonal and upset already, I blamed you. I said you were the one who texted me first, many times, and you knew right from the beginning that you could not date anyone who wasn’t an Adventist, whereas I had no idea how different our beliefs were when we first met. I followed up with another voicemail, apologising and saying that I didn’t actually blame you. But it was too late, the words had been said. And so I travelled home from work a little anxious, worried about how you would respond. I thought about the prayer I had made to God three days before.

You asked if I was still harbouring hope of a relationship happening, because we keep talking, and even though we had talked about the boundary we could not cross in the first place, the only reason why I would continually get upset like this is if I was still harbouring hope. And you asked me to tell you if I was, so we could do something to resolve it. You didn’t want to be responsible for hurting me over and over again - a repeating cycle where I would end up crying.

So I told you I was harbouring hope - I had said as much to you the last time we spoke on the phone. I told you that if hoping was a really dumb thing to you, you had to tell me and you had to let me go. And I knew that whatever you replied with next would be it: closed door or not. I had walked you to the doorway and the next move was yours.

I waited, distressed. I texted Ariel and Jean to pray for me, because I was scared. “I think it might be happening now, the closed door.” But I remembered I had prayed two prayers, and if God answered the first, He would also answer the second - He would have prepared my heart so that I could take it.

Your voicemail came through. You were gentle, but firm. You said that harbouring hope about you changing your faith specifically would never happen. And if that meant having to let me go, that was something you accepted a long time ago. You couldn’t force me to change, and vice versa. And part of you already has let me go. This (our interactions so far) was you wanting to be as supportive as a friend as you could be, knowing what I was going through, and since I’ve been there for you as well. But you realised that we couldn’t just be friends who support each other, because one way or another, my feelings would end up getting hurt and we couldn’t keep doing that. We couldn’t keep doing that.

There it was. The closed door. It couldn’t be more clear. I asked to speak to you on the phone, because I felt this was the end, and I’d rather end it with a phone call. You kindly say okay, and I’m pretty sure you must have sat outside in the cold, in the dark, so you wouldn’t wake your mum. I appreciate that.

I think we had different ideas of what ‘letting go’ meant. You said it wasn’t a good idea for us to be talking every day anymore, but you might message me in a few days with prayer requests and I could do the same every now and then. I told you I knew myself, and I knew I would never get over you unless we stopped contacting each other altogether. I needed you not to reach out to me, for any reason whatsoever. You had closed the door the majority of the way, but left it slightly ajar. I now closed it all the way.

I said that I believed we could be friends one day, but it would take some time. I said that if I didn’t see you before a year’s time, then you could message me after a year. You said that even if you do see me before that, you won’t message me until August next year. I suspect you’ve set a 1-year reminder on your phone.

I told you how much you meant to me, how I had learnt so much from you. You said we had both learnt so much from each other. I said I would really miss you. And you immediately said ‘same.’ I had loved having you in my life. And you said you really liked having someone you could talk with about the Bible, about your struggles, and even just someone you could talk to, as a distraction. We both said some general encouragements to each other, and you said you’d keep praying for me. I said I would do the same.

God cancelled my drum lesson yesterday, I think so that I could talk to you. But He also scheduled a church website meeting that night, so my time talking with you would not go on forever. I am sure that is His kindness, though I would have loved to stay there talking to you forever. I think we had a good amount of time. 43 minutes and 43 seconds.

I ended up telling my mum and my sister, after feeling God nudge me to do so. I don’t normally share things like that with them, but God told me I didn’t have to pretend to be okay. I didn’t have to keep it to myself this time, I could lean on the people who loved me.

I prayed for you that night - for your current situation, that God would open the way for you to come home, and bring your mum with you, for your sister and all she is going through, for her husband, for your relationship with your father, for that not to affect your relationship with your Heavenly Father nor your future relationship with your wife and children, for everything. I prayed that God might lead you to find the truth in His Bible, for Him to give you the humility and courage to step away from the Adventist church one day. Sure, it might be easier for you to stay Adventist forever, because it is your home, and it is what you have known your whole life, and all the people you love the most are Adventist, but I have to believe God cares about His children knowing the truth. He cares about the quality of His disciples, not just the quantity. So for this reason, I prayed for it once more - regardless of whether I end up with you or not, I hope you will one day step away from your Adventist beliefs.

And I knew I could not keep praying for you, even though I wanted to, because it would only make me hold onto you. So I told God that He had to count that prayer as though I made it every day for the next year. He knew I loved you enough to do that for you, if that was what He wanted me to do. But I knew I shouldn’t do that, so God would have to equate that one prayer will all the earnestness of many-hundred prayers.

And now, I’m okay. I loved you, but I was careful not to need you. I loved you, but I loved God more. That’s how I know I’ll be okay.

I just pray that I will always remember you fondly. I don’t want to get over you by picking at your faults. I don’t want to be bitter at you or resent you or blame you. You are so strong and you have such a big heart, and you're so wise and mature (definitely a man I could submit to if not for the Adventist beliefs), and so well-established in your relationship with God. And you are kind and funny and sometimes oddly lazy and stubborn, but always gentle with me. And you love your mum so much. I want to remember you that way. I pray and trust that God will help me to fully let you go without thinking poorly of you in any way.

And I pray that I won’t ever be lied to by myself or the devil and deceived into thinking that I didn’t matter to you. I know I did. You said so yourself - you made it clear in your actions. I trust that we both mattered very much to each other. I hope I was able to show you something of God's love in the person I try to be. I tried my best to love you, and you tried your best to support me as a friend. Maybe that’s just two ways of saying the same thing. I want to remember our time together fondly.

And finally, I want to say that you have raised the bar. It is nice to know someone like you exists. I know what I want in a husband (I have always known), and they are very high requirements. But I won’t compromise. It is too important. I know you would understand that.

Thank you, L. It’s been wonderful. I trust God will look after you.

- M

[shellxrls]

i’m genuinely so distraught cuz it would’ve been such a casual meet cute AND she was clearly fine w seeing ppl… i may never get such a chance again i’m going to throw up blood

i’m so sick to my stomach r u telling me if i accepted my friends invitation to go out tn i wldve met zendaya.

[stealingyourbones]

Prompt:

Sam knew she was conceived before her parents marriage, but she never realized that that meant the father who raised her and her bio father might be different people. It's only now, after her parent's death, that she finds out she's the daughter of Dick Grayson, famed Gotham playboy.

In other news, Sam has, for several years now, been trying to figure out how to punch Nightwing in the face for being the one to dismiss Amity Park as a hoax in the Justice League database, preventing them from receiving help.

Now Dick's daughter that he didn't know he had is trying to murder him with evil magical plants screaming about how he's the reason her best friend had to work himself to the bone to protect their town, and Jason has a new favorite niece.

Oh this has been just hanging in my inbox for ages but hOLY shit this is some brilliant stuff right here. Sam being Dick’s daughter? That could be really fun to work with.

Dick is FLOORED when he finally connects the dots and is told that he has a daughter. He’s slightly distracted by this while Sam berates him.

‘You’re a fucking detective and you didn’t think for a moment to research this town that claimed to experience extradimensional attacks of hostile entities that are supposedly ghosts?! YOU HAVE ALIENS ON YOUR TEAM AND AN UNDEAD BROTHER?! Do you have any idea. Any at all how hard it is to take care of someone who’s so willing to throw it all away for the greater good?”

Nightwing saying that he does know because of Batman and Sam just INSTANTLY cutting him off.

“NO! No you don’t. That was a grown ass man who kept himself stuck in the grief of his parents death that he dresses up as a fucking bat and fights crime. I had to kill my best friend for a second time because I knew that not a single League member would come and help us. I had to watch as a boy who literally could not stop himself from taking action. Do you know how much pressure he was under?“

Ooo definitely also stuff like “you have no idea how many sleepless nights i had where I just called the JL hotline begging for someone to pick up as I cried to the echo of the cheery hold music that was a lie. No one was ever going to pick up but I hoped that someone would answer.”

Dick is distraught. He fucked up big time. He does what he normally does: run away for a tad.

It takes him a long time to wrap his head around having a kid and how badly he fucked up her life. He didn’t even know she existed and somehow he still managed to fuck up her life unintentionally.

EVENTUALLY Sam gets along with her bio dad. It takes a LONG time but eventually Dick genuinely apologizes and tells her that he had no idea that it was that bad and he should have done better. She absolutely sticks to Damian and Jason more before she warms up to Dick. (Mostly cause they’re the edgier and more ‘I’m my own self fuck u all’ batfam members).

Ooo and Ya know how Damian is with animals? Yeah that’s Sam with plants. Dick’s and Jason’s apartment are eventually absolutely FILLED with plants. She helps teach the two how to germinate plants and it becomes a nice bonding activity. (Oh and Jason absolutely brings Sam to the range for Uncle and Niece bonding experiences. Dick doesn’t approve but is happy how gleeful Sam is to learn from Jason.)

[mehbzz]

7 Minutes in Heaven

7 mins in Heaven with Billy and Stu. It was @polyghostfacehours WIP that inspired me so they get the credit! F!reader x Billy and F!reader x Stu.

A little dubcon, possessive behaviour, a little oral, a very tiny amount of dom reader and sub Stu.

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“I swear if those two jackasses get each other I’m opening that door early.”

You snort in amusement and Randy glares at you. “I’m telling you-,”

“I know, I know,” You hold your hands up in surrender, watching as Randy tries to open the beer bottle in his hand. “You’ve got a hard on for them fucking each other.”

“What??” Randy looks genuinely distraught at your accusation, finally throwing the bottle cap into the sink with a little more force than necessary. “Absolutely not.”

“You bring it up way too often, you know that right? It’s a little suspicious.” You try to control your grin. Billy and Stu were far too careful for this to be a genuine problem, you knew it was just Randy’s jealousy talking and probably against your better judgement, you did find it funny.

“Fuck you. I just kn-,”

“I know!” You repeat it with a sigh. “I know what you think and you’re the only one that thinks it. You’re delusional. And drunk.”

“I’m the observant one,” He gestures to his chest, beer fizzing up and over his fingers at the movement. “I’m the only observant one around here.”

“I think I would have noticed don’t you?” You snatch the beer bottle out of his hands and take a sip before emptying the rest down the sink.

Randy narrows his eyes as he regards you. “Ok Mr White, yo-,” He trails off at your confused look. “Seriously? Reservoir dogs?” He looks disappointed as you shake your head. “Ok right we’re watching that next time but what I mean is you’re too close to them. You can’t see the signs; you don’t want to see the signs.”

“You’re never getting with Sid you know that right?”

He flinches and you immediately regret your snappy reply. “Sorry.”

He shrugs but gives you a small smile. “I’m optimistic. Billy will fuck it up.”

“Sure he will. It’s sunshine and rainbows for you and Sid in the near future.” You shove the empty bottle back into his hands as you give him a gentle push towards the living room. “They’re waiting on us, we can gossip later.”

You feel a little uncomfortable but try to ignore it as you take a seat on the floor next to Randy. You always feel a little uneasy at these parties, you feel guilty and on edge, like Tatum or Sidney are going to suddenly realise what’s been going on behind their backs just from one glance at your face. They are your friends but it feels a little fake, the amount of secrets and lies you have from them always makes you feel a little distant from them. You glance around the group as Randy lists the rules of the game, there are a few faces you don’t know beyond recognising them from previous parties, a guy in a red sox hat gives you a wink as you make eye contact.

“BunBun!” Stu slightly slurred voice startles you out of your observation and you grimace at the new nickname. “You’re not playing are you? We got enough people already. You’re going to ruin my chances of getting who I want.” He pinches Tatum’s side and she yelps. He’s putting it on, not that you’d be able to tell if you didn’t already know. He was a good actor but Stu rarely if ever got genuinely drunk at these parties.

“More the merrier.” Randy pats your knee; a move Stu’s gaze instantly narrows in on.

“As if you’re getting lucky.”

Randy flips him off as he picks up the bottle. “It’s a game of chance, or even… fate. I have as much chance as you at getting lucky jerkface.”

You laugh, trying to stifle it into a cough when Stu’s gaze flicks to you. Randy leans into your side, nudging you a little harder than you think he meant to. “Want to go first?”

“Not particu-,”

“Great,” Randy presses the bottle into your hand, almost linking your fingers together as he clumsily guides you to rest it on the floor. “Spin it fast, and pray fate is on your side.”

---------------------------------------------

BILLY

It lands on Billy, and you see him tense out the corner of your eye but you can’t bring yourself to look at him, your gaze instead going straight to Sid. She gives you a small smile, it’s meant to be reassuring, kind, but it makes you feel a little sick.

“They’re like family,” Red cap mutters and you wince. “Nothing hot coming from them being locked in a bathroom together.”

Stu laughs, the sound turning into an excited cackle as he almost chokes on his beer. “You’ve not been watching the right po-, ow what was that for??” His hand rubs across his ribs where Tatum had unceremoniously elbowed him.

“You’re disgusting.”

“I’m open minded. Non judgemental, love is lov-,”

“Shut up.” She snatches the beer from his hand, taking a swig as she gives you an apologetic smile. “Sorry.”

You shake your head in response, it’s not her fault.

“You can spin again if you want.” Randy leans over to whisper and the brush of air over your ear makes you shiver.

“Getting a little cozy there Randall, she didn’t spin you.” Stu mutters as he slides his hand round Tatum’s waist, tugging her a little closer. “Seems you’re fated to be alone.”

Randy ignores him, instead murmurs your name as he waits for you to respond. You stand. You can do this. It’s no big deal; it would draw more attention if you didn’t do it.

Billy stands as well, catching your eye as he tilts his head towards the door. “Let’s get it over with.”

It may be a small bathroom but it’s immaculately decorated. For all the faults Stu states his mom has, she definitely has a good eye for décor.

“The paint job more interesting than me?” Billy’s voice makes you jump slightly, turning back to face him with a sheepish grin.

“Sorry, don’t think I’ve ever been in here… which is kinda weird considering how much time I spend here.” You relax back against the wall, unsure what you’re supposed to do. Billy’s eyes flick to the door and back to you. He looks tense. “We don't have to do anything you know."

“I know.” He reaches out for you, closing the distance as his fingers fluttering over your skin as his palm cups your cheek. “What if I want to?”

You lean into his touch, your eyes closing as you focus on the feeling of his thumb stroking softly over your cheek bone.

 “I love you.” It’s whispered quietly as he leans forward to press his forehead against your own.

It’s a shock, hearing him say that. Words he’s said many times before but hearing him say it somewhere which could technically be considered public, with a large group of your friends, including his girlfriend, standing right behind the door feels special. It feels like a big deal, you don’t know what you’ve done to warrant this level of affection, or why he’s even feeling so affectionate and you stay still, not wanting to ruin the moment. The two of you stay like that for a minute, pressed together, until Billy shivers, tilting his head until his mouth gently brushes over yours.

You sigh into his mouth, your lips parting slightly and Billy groans softly in response. His tongue swipes across your bottom lip, as he grips your hips, pushing you back until he has you pressed flush against the wall behind you.

His leg slides between your thighs in order to completely close the gap between you, the sensation making your breath hitch, fighting and losing against the urge to rock down against his thigh.

“Easy bunny,” He glances back at the door briefly and then leans close. “We can’t get carried away.” His lips graze against over your jaw before he leans down to nuzzle into your neck.

Despite his reprimand he does nothing to discourage your movements. His hand sliding up over the back of your thigh until he’s palming your ass, squeezing hard enough to make you whimper as he encourages you to rock your hips a little harder against him.

He lets you grind clumsily against his thigh and continues to trail slow, wet kisses down the length of your neck. You’re breathing too hard, moans and whimpers keep slipping out of you, despite your efforts to stay quiet.

Your hips stutter, the teasing pleasure starting to morph into a need to escalate, it’s not enough. You mumble his name, a needy plea and he almost growls in response, a low rumbling groan in his chest as he nips sharply at your shoulder. Your chin tilts up to give him better access, wanting him to mark you despite the voice in the back of your head screaming at you that it’s a very bad idea.

Your grip tightens on him as his hands slide upwards and under your shirt, fluttering over your ribs until his thumbs trace the underside of your breasts. It’s too much, too much teasing and not enough stimulation, a loud desperate sound escaping you, and he stops. Pulling away and letting you go, giving you a peck on your nose followed by a very smug grin. “Stop letting Randy paw at you.”

“What?” You’re dazed, off kilter and extremely turned on. “I don’t-, pawing?”

Billy slumps down on the floor opposite you, wiping his thumb across his bottom lip, and sucking the tip into his mouth. A move that has your breath hitching and your cunt clenching hard around nothing. You shift awkwardly, not so subtly squeezing your thighs together and he smirks at you, mouth opening to say something just as Stu flings the door open. There’s a loud chorus of boos and complaints from behind him as he does so, from the sound of it he's opened the door 2 minutes early, a fact Billy obviously picks up on to as the glare he gives Stu would probably kill a lesser man. 

"Aw man," Stu sounds disappointed, theatrically so but you can see the evil little glint in his eye. He was hoping to catch you in the midst of something. “You two are so boring.”

You clear your throat, trying to calm yourself down and avoiding Stu’s knowing grin as you make your way back out to the group.

You drop back down in your spot next to Randy, trying not to stare as Billy sits back down next to Sid. He brushes her hair back over her shoulder as he does, an almost absent minded gesture but she leans into it with a happy smile. Your stomach twisting painfully as he lets her rest her head on his shoulder.

“Nope,” Stu drops onto his knees as he moves into the centre of the circle, reaching out to grab the bottle out of Randy's hand and blocking your line of sight. “I know you're desperate for me Meeks, but Fate is not on your side tonight. Who's next?"

Randy gags, and Stu glances back at him. "Would have thought you'd have that gag reflex under control with all th-,"

"Enough," Tatum reaches around him and takes the bottle from his grasp. "Stop being an ass. It's my turn."

----------------------------------------------------------------

STU

Your stomach dropping as the bottle finally stops, pointing towards Stu. You try not to outwardly react despite the sudden rush of nerves. Locked in a small room with Mr 'take things too far' was absolutely not going to end well. Your gaze flicks to Billy automatically but he's watching Stu. He doesn’t look angry or worried, he's wearing that perfectly blank mask of his, the one you've still not learnt how to read and the one that scares you the most. It usually involves his most volatile moods afterwards.

"Oh! Locked in a room with you?" Stu was up and on his feet before the bottle had fully stopped. Grabbing your hands and tugging you up, the eagerness at which he does making you stumble. Randy's hand is warm on your calf as he tries to help you regain your balance, a gesture that has Stu roughly tugging you forward another step. "You and not Tay? The scandal!"

He turns back to Tatum; grasping her face between his hands as he leans down to kiss her. "You're my one true love, but these are the rules. It’s a sacrifice I have to make. Remember me as a hero."

She smacks his hands away with a roll of her eyes and Stu grabs your hand instead, pulling you towards the door but you look back as Tatum calls your name.

"I’m so sorry!" Tatum laughs, she looks a little disappointed but otherwise unbothered and for some reason that makes you feel a little jealous. "Try not to kill him ok?"

The door is only just closed before Stu is twirling around, his fingers slotting into your waistband and pulling you closer with a grin. You let him pull you closer but lean back when he moves into kiss you.

"Seriously?"

"Rules of the game bunbun."

"Don't call me that."

“7 minutes in heaven bunny, and your god is right here.” He puckers his lips but you don’t give into his silent request, instead you press your finger to his lips, pushing his head back slightly.

“You really think you can get me to heaven in 7 minutes?” You scoff, pulling your finger away from his mouth when he tries to nip at it, flicking his forehead instead. “You’re not that good.”

"Hey. I've totally had you screaming in less."

“In annoyance maybe.” You swat half heartedly at the hand that is still hooked into your waist band, he looks happy, genuinely happy and you feel yourself relax into his hold with a sigh. “Fine. One kiss. One, Stu, one.”

He grins, obviously delighted at your submission, pushing himself against you until you have no choice to give in and move back, his weight pressing you back against the sink hard, making you grunt with pain.

"Calm down," you try to wriggle your hand round to rub at the small of your back, but he grabs your wrist like he's worried you’re trying to move away. "I’m staying the night remember?" You say it quietly even though there's no chance of anyone hearing you.

Stu shrugs, eyes focused on your chest as he tries to slip his hands under your skirt. "That’s later, this is now. Tay practically gave me permission, don't spoil my fun."

"Permission?" You can’t tell if he’s joking or if his perception is that worryingly skewed. You're still trying to grab his hands but he’s stronger, one hand slipping between your thighs. "She's probably expecting you to be talking my ear off about whatever movie you're obsessing over this week, not borderline assaulting me. Christ Stu stop."

He does, but he doesn't pull away, letting his hand rest on your inner thigh and you fight the urge to shift your hips down against it. "I don't think this is a good idea."

"I do."

“You’re crazy,” Your grip on his wrist tightens but he still won’t budge. “We are not fucking in the bathroom.”

His eyes narrow, a dark expression you can’t decipher flicking across his face and then he drops his hand. You curse yourself. You’ve offended him. You know he’s sensitive about that word but sometimes it just slips out. It just describes his hyper behaviour too well sometimes.

You pull him into a gentle kiss as an apology. It’s sweet and slow, your tongue only just brushing over his bottom lip. It's chaste, intimate and to your surprise he doesn't try and deepen it, he just moans softly against your mouth as his arms loop around your waist. You nip at his bottom lip as you pull away, making him jolt. 

"Feisty," he clicks his tongue, wiping a thumb over his lip as he leans back against the door. "Just wanted a little fun with you that's all. You look cute tonight."

It sounds like a genuine compliment. There's no smirk or raised eyebrow. “I want a little fun with you too bu-,”

“Yeah?” he perks up immediately, not letting you finish your sentence.

“I said one kiss. One kiss was had.”

“What if I want to kiss you somewhere else?” He leans in, his lips brushing your ear. “Let me eat you out?”

You whimper, leaning back against the sink in an effort to put some distant between you, but it doesn’t discourage him. He drops to his knees, his hands sliding up your thighs and under your skirt.

“Stu,” you try to remove his hands but he's stronger, brushing you off with ease. “We do not have time for that.”

“I can totally make you cum in 7 minutes.”

“It’s definitely less than that now and-,” you don’t want him to do this, it feels extremely uncomfortable and you desperately try to think of an excuse to get him off you. “I’m on my period.”

He groans and nuzzles into your crotch through your skirt. “So? I’m not scared of a little blood, bunny.”

You ignore the twinge of interest you feel at that admission, forcing yourself to remember that now was not the time. “Ok well I really need to pee, too much beer you know?”

His grip tightens on your thighs but he doesn’t let go. “If you piss on me I'm absolutely returning the favour.”

Jesus. He’s like a dog with a bone. “Stu, please I-,”

“Just a little taste.” He pushes your skirt up a little higher and before you could try and protest further he pushed your legs apart, lifting one over his shoulder, and buried his head under your skirt, fingers hooking under your panties to push them aside. His tongue found your clit, a hiss escaping you at the sudden almost painful stab of pleasure.  

“You gotta be quiet bunny,” Stu mumbles against you. “I’m not stopping if you end up making them open the door early.”

That thought shouldn’t been as hot as it was, Tatum walking in on you with Stu’s head buried between your thighs?  He would stop. He didn’t genuinely want to get caught did he? You’re not sure, even as you try to stifle your moan as you threw your head back and squeezed your eyes shut. 

“Stu, fuck we can’t-, stop.” He was unfairly good at this. Your knees growing weak at his wet and eager licks against your clit. He grunts as you press your hands into his hair and he readjusts his hold, pushing himself closer, his tongue squirming inside you. A strong flare of annoyance hits you as you realised he could, he could totally make you cum in 7 minutes. Not that you’d ever admit it now. Overwhelmed by the feel of his mouth you yank on his hair, pleading frantically with him to stop.

And he does. He stands with a smug grin, wiping his hand across his mouth and then wiping it on your skirt before he steps away from you.

You stumble as you try to right yourself, pulling your underwear and skirt straight and he chuckles. 

“Asshole.”

He shrugs. “Told you, just wanted a taste.”

 “You also said you could make me cum in 7 minutes,” You try not to sound as desperate as you feel. So tempted to shove a hand down your panties and finish yourself off. “Maybe you’re not as good as you think you are.”

“Ouch. You get snappy when you’re denied.” He huffs out a long exhale through his nose, amused by your tone. “You’re gonna have to be nicer if you want me to let you finish later.”

“Fuck you,” You mumble. “If I tell Billy you’re being mean I’m sure he’ll help me out.”

“Oh poor baby am I being mean?” He pouts at you and then grins at your glare. “Yeah whatever he probably would, but I could totally make you cum harder. I’m worth waiting for bunny.”

The teasing, the denial, the cockiness, has genuine irritation flickering to life in your chest and although you know it’s a bad idea, that you won’t win in the long run, you want to push back.

“Not what I meant.” You look up at him, trying to ignore the swarm of butterflies in your stomach as you push him backwards. You’re too nervous, too out of your depth and unsure to be as convincingly dominant as you want to be but he surprises you by moving as you want him to. “I meant…”  You smile when he grunts as his back hits the wall. “I meant more like maybe he’ll help me with you.”

Stu shivers but says nothing, surprising you even further, his gaze fixated on your mouth as you talk. “Maybe he’ll hold you still for me so I can return the favour with my mouth?” You lean as close as you can, letting your lips brush lightly over his skin as you whisper.  “Bring you to the brink over and over again until you’re the one crying and begging for release.”

He glances away for a moment, so many conflicting emotions flashing over his face that for a second you almost laugh, but you stay quiet, watching the way his brain seems to shut down and reboot. He recovers with a crooked grin that sends a rush of nervous anticipation through you.

“Bunny.” His tone is flat, unimpressed, it’s a reprimand of some sort, and your confidence immediately takes a hit even as you realise he didn’t actually say no. “I think y-,”

The door is yanked open abruptly, making your heart leap in your chest.

“Times up.” You take a quick step back but relax when you lock eyes with Billy, until you register his expression. He looks pissed, the muscles in his jaw twitching with how hard he's grinding his teeth.

“Killjoy.” Stu leaves first, bowing to the group as he exits, making his way straight back to Tatum.

Tatum throws her arms round him, but he avoids her kiss, bending to nuzzle into her neck before snatching the beer out of her hand and downing several gulps. He mumbles something into her ear that has her blushing, and you look away as you sit back down next to Randy. Randy looks at you with a hint of concern. “You ok?”

You nod. “Learnt more about Kelly Brock’s body than I’m comfortable with but yeah, m’fine.”

You pick up the bottle, letting it twirl between your fingers as you try to get a hold of your emotions. You’re wet, and turned on and you’re worried about why Billy looked so pissed. It’s mixing uncomfortably with the knot of jealousy in your stomach as you try not to watch Stu drape himself all over Tatum. It feels unfairly pointed. You take a deep breath, counting to 5 before you shove the bottle into Randy's hand. You give him a grin as he reluctantly takes it. “Your turn.”