#am i making this as a response to certain comments? maybe :)
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baifengxis · 2 years ago
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this is just a pran parakul is amazing and wonderful and i love him so much and always will post
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kickassfu · 1 year ago
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...gonna go try to sleep
doubt the anxiety will actually let me
but its 2am wtf am i supposed to do
ffs
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norrisainz33 · 2 months ago
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Miami Baby | MV33
☆ summary: actress and avid f1 fan visits the paddock for the first time and she is a certain world champion’s celebrity crush.
☆ pairing: max verstappen x famous!reader x grid!platonic
☆ fc & warnings: suggestive! you are responsible for the content you consume.
☆ requested: nope!!
☆ a/n: this was one of the first fics i ever started writing and just havent had the nerve to post it. this is my first time posting a written and smau fic so bear with me here 🥹
゚. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ゚
ynuser has added to their story
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[story 1: guess what i’m up to this week] [story 2: princess treatment fr 💅🏻]
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user2: MIAMI GRAND PRIX?!
user4: omg are you finally going to a grand prix!!!!???
yourbff: AND SHES DRIVING A FERRARI?!
ynuser: YES!! this is a dream come true
yourbff: i’m so happy for you y/n/n 🤍 FORZA FERRARI!!!!
ynuser: FORZA FERRARI
tomholland2013: Hope you have the best time in Miami!! Z says that you have to come with us to Silverstone tho
ynuser: thank you tommy!! count me in 🫶🏻
user3: MAMA Y MIAMI
user1: car or driver - level impossible
ynuser has made a post
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liked by scuderiaferrari, carlossainz55, sabrinacarpenter, zendaya and 2,657,101 others
ynuser: hot new driver alert, watch out boys! Make sure to catch my hot lap with The Carlos Sainz and say hi if you see me this weekend in Miami 🫶🏻❤️🏎️
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user3: the way she was giggling like a little kid as carlos whipped the car around , oh i love her
user4: no bc she’s finally at a gp living her dreams
user6: she’s literally just another celebrity?
user5: user6 you don’t know the lore! she’s been an f1 fan since before she got famous and she’s been friends with rebecca and alex for quite a while
carlossainz55: had an absolute blast driving with you! looking forward to seeing you this weekend!
ynuser: likewise!!!
scuderiaferrari: bellissima! ready for an exciting weekend ❤️
iamrebeccad: hottest hot lap i’ve ever seen😍😍
maxverstappen1: hot lap with me next
charlesleclerc: since when do you do hot laps?
user8: AM I READING THIS RIGHT
user9: MAX!???????????
user10: i’m sorry is the max verstappen trying to flirt rn
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ynuser: thank you charlie 🫶🏻
charlesleclerc: bien sûr y/n
user3: do you wanna be my chauffeur next?
maxverstappen1: charles you have got to introduce me to her
charleslerclerc: to who?
maxverstappen1: y/n
charlesleclerc: max are you ok?
maxverstappen1: what do you mean??? yes, i am ok??
charlesleclerc: i’m just shocked you willingly want to be introduced to someone??? let alone a celebrity?
maxverstappen1: charles 🙄
maxverstapppen1: she may or may not be my celebrity crush ok
charlesleclerc: ohhh mon ami you should have said that sooner
charlesleclerc: i’ll get alex and rebecca on the case 😉
maxverstappen1: oh god no charles i just meant an introduction i don’t need anyone on the case 😭
user12: 3 pretty best friends
user14: the little matching outfits?! im sick
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user15: you were made to wear ferrari merch
iamrebeccad: can’t wait to show you off to all the other boys 😍
ynuser: but you’re the only one i want 😫
iamrebeccad: i know darling but im not the only one who wants you 😉
ynuser: CRYPTIC what does that mean
alexandrasaintmleux: i’m so glad we finally got you to ferrari mon amour but we should definitely take a walk around the paddock!! you can meet some drivers that aren’t in red - maybe some blue
ynuser: i’ll go anywhere with you
maxverstappen1: i think red bull blue would look better on you
ynuser: blue? perhaps!
user17: begging to know where you got that belt it’s so slay
user22: one of these drivers has got to wife you up you’d be the best wag
user18: can’t wait for all the pictures of you on the grid
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charlesleclerc: find max! he’ll help you get back to ferrari
user14: steal all their notes and bring it to ferrari so we can have a better car
landonorris: come to mclaren its way better here
ynuser: ok then come get me muppet i’m lost 😭
user87: steal one of the cars and give it to carlos!!!
user23: ms girl what are you doing there?? i thought you were supposed to be filming your new movie!
iamrebeccad: 🤭🤭🤭
ynuser: oh so you did this on purpose?
user55: project get ferrari a rocket ship is a go
~~
The pit lane was humming with activity as mechanics and team members alike continued with their duties after a productive qualifying session. You glanced around looking for your friends, alex and rebecca, who had convinced you to take this walk in the first place, but you couldn’t find them in the sea of red bull employees. Letting out a sigh you pulled out your phone hoping to see some sort of reply from either them but there was nothing.
"y/n?" a familiar voice questioned, startling you out of your thoughts. you were met with a confused looking max verstappen and you felt your cheeks heat. max was still in his white fireproofs with his suit pulled down around his waist and you'd be lying if you said he didn't look incredible. you may have accidentally admitted to alex that max was your crush on the grid and you had a sneaking suspicion thats why both her and rebecca magically disappeared leaving you here.
"yes! hi max!!" you said quickly, holding out your hand for him to shake. "it's a genuine honor to meet you!" max looked down at your outstretched hand and paused for a moment before taking it in his own.
his hand engulfed yours as a grin stretched across his face, "the honor is mine, y/n - i'm actually a pretty big fan of yours."
"you are?"
max chuckled, "yes? is that hard to believe?"
"no, no .. i just didn't think you'd know who i was! i mean - im just surprised is all," you said quickly, realizing you were stumbling over your words but max didn't seem to be phased.
"don't be surprised, you are quite talented," max took a sip from his red bull can and you watched as his eyes danced around the pit lane. "do you want an escort back to ferrari?"
"yes, please."
"great, come with me," max rested his hand on the small of your back as he ushered you through the red bull garage and back to the paddock. he made idle chit chat as you tried your very best to focus on anything other than the electricity you could feel from where his hand met the fabric of your dress.
"ahh there you are mon amor!" alex cooed as you and max approached the ferrari hospitality. rebecca looked between you and max with a knowing look on her face. you made a mental note to talk to them both later about how they couldn't just leave you places unattended even if it meant meeting max.
"well would you look at this," charles patted max on the back as he walked past taking his place next to alex. he had a devilish smirk plastered across his handsome features as his eyes travelled between the two of you.
"max was kind enough to help me navigate my way back here after alex and rebecca so sweetly ditched me in the pit lane."
"oh was he now? well then we must repay my dear friend! how about you come to the club with us after the race tomorrow max?" charles looked expectantly at his friend.
max let out a sigh, "i suppose i could be persuaded."
"thats the spirit!" charles clapped his hands together, "i'll text you the details mon ami."
a night club? in miami? with max verstappen? this ought to be interesting.
~~
ynuser has posted multiple stories
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[story 1: race day let’s go] [story 2: im not crying!! YOU are] [story 3: idk if miami can handle us @.alexandrasaintmleux]
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user16: you crying over lando winning his first race is so real
landonorris: i am crying u r right girl
ynuser: as long as ur not cryin in the club
landonorris: not yet !! but the night is young!!
user22: ok body is tea wtf
alexandrasaintmleux: you’re so beautiful i love you so much
ynuser: YOU are so beautiful. i love you more my girl
yourbff: why are you !! a ferrari!!! crying over a mclaren?!
ynuser: bc it’s lando and we love bob in this house
yourbff: ok yeah fine
user12: miami is NOT ready for your hotness that’s for sure
ianrebeccad: ok i need to borrow that outfit from you asap. also pls get to the club faster im stuck here without you both 🥹
ynuser: you’re the one who wanted to “get ready” with carlos and not us soooooo
user44: i’m foaming at the mouth
maxverstappen1: understandable to cry over me not winning
ynuser: i’m glad you get it 😫
user45: that’s not a face card, that’s a whole face economy
user33: who are these divas?
~~
max could feel the music pounding through his chest as his fellow club goers danced to the beat. feeling all sorts of nerves, he brought his gin and tonic to his lips and took a few big gulps hoping the liquid courage would hit him soon. his eyes couldn’t help but follow you as you swayed your entire body to the music without a care in the world. readjusting the hat on his head, he watched as your skirt inched lower on your hips and he could almost feel his mouth start to water.
“max just go and talk to her!” charles yelled over the music pulling max out of his thoughts.
“i can’t.”
“quoi? what do you mean you can’t?”
“she’s just… i just… i can’t!” max finished off his drink and set it down on the table in front of him. “i mean look at her,” max explains throwing his arms up in exasperation, “she’s so beautiful!! i’m not sure i’d even know what to say.”
“just ask her to dance or to get another drink!” charles looked over to you, alex and rebecca as you danced with carlos and lando.
“i can’t.”
“max - if you don’t i guarantee someone else is going to try and make a move on her.” charles was now staring max down with a scowl on his face, “and i know that would upset you more than just growing some balls and talking to her!”
max frowned, realizing his friend was right. “i’m just scared she won’t like me.”
“i have insider knowledge that says she fancies you.”
max’s eyes widened, “and you didn’t lead with that?”
“no because i wasn’t supposed to tell you!! now please for the love of god let’s go get her.”
max and charles navigated their way through the sea of bodies until they made it to your little group. you looked up at max with a bright smile and he felt the butterflies in his stomach intensify. before he lost all of his nerve, he blurted out “get a drink with me?”
you nodded, “i’d love to!” max smiled and grabbed your hand so that he wouldn’t lose you in the mass of people.
there was very little available space at the bar which left you leaning against the counter and max directly behind you leaning against you so that he could hear the bartender. not a single coherent thought was going through your head, all you could focus on was the way max’s body rested against yours, the warmth it offered you, the way he was resting his strong hands on either side of you and how if you turned you’d be face to face and able to kiss him right on—
max tapped on your shoulder pulling you out of your thoughts and earning a slight jump from you. “the bartender asked what you wanted to drink, y/n” max explained into your ear causing goosebumps to spread like wild fire across your skin.
the bartender was looking at you expectantly, “oh! i’ll take a gin and tonic please!!” you panic ordered not being able to come up with anything else on the spot. “so sorry,” you quickly added as the bartender turned to make your drink. mentally you scolded yourself for not being able to get it together but boy was keeping it together hard when the max verstappen was very much taking up your personal space.
after thanking the bartender for your drinks, max took a step back allowing you to turn and look at him. he was in a pair of his classic skinny jeans, a backwards black cap, a black tshirt that hugged his arms perfectly and he wore a soft smile as he looked down at you with his big blue eyes. “wanna dance?” you asked before taking a gulp of your drink.
max’s grin grew, “absolutely.” you decided not to give him any time to reconsider and instead grabbed his hand and drug him out to the dance floor. you could feel eyes on you both but you didn’t care. “i should likely preface this with the fact that i’m not much of a dancer,” max admitted sheepishly. he was taking note of how close you both were now. you had stopped rather abruptly in the middle of the dance floor leaving him so close to you that he could steal your breath if he really wanted and oh boy did he want to.
you laughed effortlessly, “everyone is a dancer if they try hard enough, max!" The DJ began playing a remix of one of your favorite songs and max watched intently as you began moving to the music. He threw back the remainder of his drink and made quick work of discarding it, feeling more courageous now.
you quickly noticed max was still very much standing completely still. “it’s all in the hips,” you cooed putting your free hand on his hips and pushing him so he would move. max obliged and began swinging his hips back and forth timidly, not having a ton of room to move out at the center of the dance floor. "atta boy!" you praised giving him a smirk.
max almost choked on air at that comment from you — what could he say? he was a sucker for praise and that comment gave him the confidence he needed to place both hands on your hips and pull you in so that your body fit snuggly against his own. max had a feeling that this was going to be a very good night.
~~
f1gossip has made a post
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f1gossip: last night max verstappen and actress y/n y/l/n were seen attending a party with many of the grid members. they seem to have gotten very cozy out on the dance floor sharing quite a few kisses. it’s also reported that the pair were seen leaving together at the end of the night.
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user1: OMG WHAT MY WORLDS COLLIDING
user2: nah he looks so fine in that hat omg
user8: i knew him offering that hot lap had to mean something
user6: they’re both so hot i’m sure their night was … actually imma stop myself before i get banned
user3: this was orchestrated by alex and rebecca i just know it
user8: i could see charles and lando getting in on it too tbh
user4: jealousy doesn’t look pretty on me but dear lord am i jealous
user5: he may have bagged the baddest baddie alive.. how did he manage that in those skinny jeans
user4: listen those skinny jeans make his thighs look real biteable
user5: and you got me there
user9: need more max and y/n content asap
゚. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ゚
a/n: thank you for reading!! likes and reblogs are very much appreciated 🤍
゚. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ゚
disclaimer: pictures are not mine and everything i write is fiction
© norrisainz33 || please do not rewrite, translate, or copy any of my works posted here on to any other platform
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thef1diary · 11 months ago
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Little Big Fan | Four
- Little Big Celebration
Series Masterlist
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wc: 1.6k
After getting over the initial shock of seeing him, you greeted him. "I thought you were room service, I ordered some food."
He smiled but then he asked the question he's been meaning to ask since he couldn't find you after the celebrations, "why did you leave so fast?"
"Isabella watched you hold the trophy then she fell asleep. I didn't want the noise to disturb her," you explained, and he nodded in understanding. "Is that why we're still standing here, because she's sleeping inside?"
You shook your head, "as long as you keep it down." You moved out of the way to let him inside and he saw your favourite show queued up on the tv.
"Looks like you already have plans for the night," Max commented and you chuckled, "This is how my nights are usually spent."
"Well then I probably shouldn't ask if you want to come celebrate with us." Both of you sat on the couch, facing each other. "That would mean going to a club, which I can't do but you should go celebrate your win."
Based on the celebrations you saw on the podium, you knew the afterparty would be even better. A little part of you wished that you could go, but you were content with how you've been spending your nights lately.
"Congratulations by the way," you added. "Do you want me to leave?" Max asked bluntly which made you frown. "No, but if you have plans—"
"My plans are here, with you," he interrupted you, making you shut your mouth with his response. A smile threatened to grow on your face but you managed to compose it. "Plus I can celebrate next weekend at the next race," Max added, a smug smile on his face and you couldn't hold back yours any longer.
"That confident in your winning capabilities?" You asked with a teasing tone behind your words. He shrugged, "if I don't think I am the best, then I won't be the best."
There was another knock at your door, and this time you were certain it was room service. Fortunately, you ordered enough food so you could share with Max.
Watching your show was at the bottom of the priority list, replaced by wanting to keep the conversation going with Max.
"Don't tell Brad about this," Max spoke, pointing to the meal that surely wasn't part of his diet. "Oh no, the champion is a rule breaker," you teased him, earning a smile from him in return.
Max looked at the closed bedroom door, "did she have fun today?"
"So much fun! I think she would start asking me when we're going to another race," you told him, the excitement on Isabella's face is something you wouldn't forget anytime soon.
"All you have to do is ask, I can get you the passes for the next race." Based on his tone, he wasn't joking and you quickly shook your head.
"No, you've already done so much for us; the hotel, flight tickets, caps and whatnot," you explained, but he was quick to retort. "I don't want to sound like a stuck up asshole, but the cost doesn't matter as much as the experience."
You couldn't help but chuckle, "maybe another time, Isabella is starting school soon too."
"First grade?" He asked, and you nodded, "yeah, she's growing up so fast."
"And what about you, did you enjoy this weekend?" He looked at you in anticipation, hoping you enjoyed his company as much as he enjoyed yours.
"Maybe not as much as Isabella, but it was a very nice experience and I still can't believe you do this for a living." He chuckled at your response, but then you added, "and what about you?"
"What about me?" He asked, and you clarified, "did you enjoy this weekend, home race and all?"
He seemed taken aback by the question but he answered nonetheless. "A lot better than it usually is," the meaning behind his words was clear to you, especially with the way he looked at you.
"If you told me earlier, I would've worn orange for the race." Max shook his head, "Then people would've thought that you were supporting McLaren."
An idea popped in your mind and you slapped your hand on his thigh while exclaiming, "I should've taken the cape from Daniel!"
Your hand remained on his thigh but you didn't seem to realize, and he didn't move it away either. "I'll get you one next year," Max suggested.
Your focus shifted away from Max as soon as you heard footsteps in the room Isabella was sleeping in. "Hold on," you stood up and went to check on her.
As soon as you opened the door, Isabella paused in her step, looking at you with a sheepish smile on her face.
"Angel, are you hungry?" You asked, knowing that there were a bit of leftovers. She shook her head, then pointed at the suitcase or rather the teddy bear sitting on the suitcase.
You passed it to her and she climbed back in bed. "Are you sure you're not hungry?"
"No, mama, I'm tired." On cue, she yawned as you walked closer to her. Tucking her in properly, you placed a kiss on her forehead and sat by her side, brushing your fingers through her hair until she was sound asleep. Which again, didn't take long.
You noticed the glittery clips still in her hair from earlier in the day. You carefully began taking them out one by one while trying not to wake her up. Then, after placing another kiss on her forehead, you left the room.
"Everything okay?" Max asked as soon as you sat down on the couch. You nodded, "yeah, she went back to sleep."
"The race really tired her out today," he smiled because of his next thought, "seems like she's the one who raced instead of me."
You chuckled, "looks like it." Then you added, "I know you're a professional and all but it was just as much fun as it was scary watching you drive so fast."
"So you're not a big fan of fast cars?" He didn't comment on the fact that you only mentioned him while there were nineteen other drivers on the grid.
"That depends, will your follow up question be if I would trust you to drive me around?" You responded with a question and he had a sheepish smile on his face, "maybe."
"I guess I'll have to get in a car with you one day to know the answer to both questions."
Your conversation was interrupted by a call on Max's phone. He muttered a curse before declining it. "Why don't we watch your show?" Max suggested, leaning back on the couch comfortably.
You didn't ask him about his other plans, as he had already assured you earlier that the only plan he has for tonight are with you.
It was possible that he wanted to spend more time with you before you leave tomorrow evening, and you couldn't help but smile at the thought.
The thought of leaving didn't sit with you, but you pushed it to the back of your mind and focused on the present, with him.
You grabbed the remote and pressed play, shuffling a tad bit closer to Max.
Somewhere along the way, a few episodes later, Max's arm rested on the back of the couch. His fingers lightly grazed your shoulder every time either of you moved.
Max's phone rang two more times. The second time he picked up and quickly muttered, "I'm busy." Then he turned it off, and apologized to you.
"It's okay, you're the most popular man of the night, people want to see you," you shrugged casually.
"Yeah well, I don't want to see them." You chuckled, liking his bluntness.
It was pretty late when he decided to leave, both of you were so tired but neither wanted the night the end. You opened the door for him, but as he stepped out, he turned to look at you.
"I'll drop you two at the airport tomorrow, just let me know when you're leaving." Once again he said it so casually that you had to remind yourself that he only knew you for a few days. Although it didn't feel like it.
"You don't have to," you reminded him that he was under no obligation to send you off. He shook his head, "I want to, if you let me."
You couldn't say no to him, and perhaps it was a little selfish because you wanted to spend all the time there was with him. You haven't been selfish in a while and it is about time to change that.
"I'll text you tomorrow then. Isabella is going to be very happy knowing she'll see you tomorrow as well." You stated, not mentioning that you would be happy to see him too, using your daughter as an excuse. But then, you didn’t lie either because Isabella would be overjoyed as well.
"Trust me, I'll be very happy too," he added with a smile, preferring not to tell you how delighted he would be to see you as much as he was to see Isabella. That information was best kept to himself.
Then he left. While Max hadn't properly celebrated a race win tonight like he usually did, this sort of celebration felt better than any others.
He walked away with a smile on his face that wasn't related to his victory at all. He was just looking forward to seeing you and Isabella again.
Taglist: (let me know if you want to be added or removed) @xjval @mrsmaybank13 @cherry-piee @urfavnoirette @solphin @burningcupcakefire @nessacarty1 @dreamsarebig @omgsuperstarg @fanficweasley @redbullgirly @llando4norris @wonnou @randomgirlnumber13 @dark-night-sky-99 @chanshintien @leilanixx @gisellesprettylies @peachiicherries @monsieurbacteria6 @67-angelofthelordme-67 @arian-directioner @distancedss @morenofilm @sachaa-ff @lighttsoutlewis @teamnovalak @casperlikej @sadg3 @d3kstar @lewisvinga @lpab @queenofmanydreams @glitterf1 @honethatty12 @drunk-teens-doing-drugs @its-avalon-08 @yourbane @oconswrld @noneofyourfbusinessworld @ssrcsm @softtina @namgification
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reidmania · 5 months ago
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THIS IS WHAT THE DRUGS ARE FOR | spencer reid
good riddance x spencer reid one shot series masterlist
summary; when no one else helps spencer’s addiction after being kidnapped — you do, and you offer him help as a recovering addict yourself
warnings; mentions of kidnapping, early seasons reid, around the time of his addiction to dilauded, mentions of suicide, mentions of being shot (pass tense during a case) mentions relapsing, addiction to opioids mentions of being addicted to oxycodone, drug use, overdoses, hurt x comfort, angst, not a lot of romance but its sweet, fem reader, normal criminal minds stuff. mentions of the team completely ignoring spencers addiction bc that was messed up.
an; honestly this was difficult to write as a recovering oxycodone addict, a little bit self indulgent.. whoopsies!! but in honour of 5 years sober 🤗🤗 (i am too open with my issues on social media) this is probably horrible
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‘This is what the drugs are for. Turn the lights off on the comedown I still get emotional, when I think about your old house. Hopefully, the high, works to change my mind’
You noticed quicker than you wanted to admit. It wasn’t like you could pinpoint a certain point, maybe it was when he turned back at you after standing up from the dead body of his kidnapper and you saw the way his pupils blew, something guilty behind them — maybe thats when your concern started.
You knew for certain when his focus was in and out daily. You knew everyone on the team had their suspicions, had the gut feeling that there was something more to the tiredness in Spencer’s eyes. You knew more than you wanted to admit.
Your hands twirled the pen on your fingers as your eyes stayed fixated on the male sitting in front of you, you watched as his hands came up to scratch the inside of his elbow. You knew the motion all too well, like muscle memory.
Your eyebrows furrowed as you heard Hotch ask a question to which only Spencer reid would know the answer to. You shifted your gaze slightly as you leant back in your chair, at his lack of response and focus.
It took Hotch saying his name a second time for his gaze to pull and a small apology to leave his lips. Hotch repeated the question and you watched as it took a minute too long for Spencer Reid’s all to long ramble to start about the detail.
Normally, someone would make a teasing comment about how Spencer had to think about it, but the tension stayed among the group as they all noticed the same thing — yet no one did anything about it.
You knew the feeling well, and it made your skin itch in anger.
Rossi handed out jobs, inviting you to stay back with Spencer to help with case work. You looked at Spencer noticed his eyes dropping, it made your chest ache.
Everyone else had left leaving you and Spencer in the conference room. Your gaze stayed fixated on him as his mind fell in and out of focus. You had to admit if you didn’t know Spencer Reid as well as you did, he hid it well.
“How long?” You muttered out, as your eyes pulled away from his to skim the case. You could feel his gaze on yours and you could practically feel the heavy breath that left his mouth.
His words came out snappy, but you knew he didn’t mean it. “What?”
You looked up at him again, seeing his gaze on yours, his pupils constricted and you could practically see the way his hand was twitching not to claw at the inside of his elbow.
You knew he knew what you meant, you knew he was playing dumb. You pulled the same thing for years. If he wanted to play the game you’d play, and you would outplay him every time. “How long have you been using?”
His face twisted up, he could’ve been an actor.
“Im not.” He pushed out. His voice betrayed his face, as it went an octave higher. For someone so smart you’d think he would know how to lie — but he didn’t, not well. Not to you. He could tell you didn’t believe him from the way your eyebrow quipped. “I don’t know why you’d think that.” He added, trying to sound convincing.
You hummed, “Your pupils are constricted for one. You aren’t focusing, you are all depressed. Oh and you’re slurring.. By the way” You pointed out with your pen in your hand directed towards him. You watched as his face fell for a split second. If you weren’t paying as much attention as you were you might’ve missed it.
But you were paying attention.
“Im just tired— and I have allergies ” He lied. It made you want to laugh at the familiarity of all his lies, the same ones you remember thinking you were so smart for thinking of in the moment so many years ago.
You let out an unconvinced ‘mhm’ as you nodded your head. You watched as it dawned in his eyes that he had been called out. You wondered if maybe he enjoyed the fact that no one pointed it out, until now, until you.
“I had allergies too, for a long time” You stated out simply, playing his game, outplaying him. Your goal here wasn’t to make him feel ashamed, in any way. It was purely to let him know that he wasn’t alone.
You remembered feeling so alone.
He spluttered slightly, his eyes widened the slightest bit. “What?” He breathed out, confused because he never would’ve guessed. You knew that. You knew the person you were now was nothing like the person you were a few years prior. You hid your addiction well but you were changed as a person, and you weren’t nearly the same person you were before the addiction.
You offered him a small smile, “I know an addict when I see one Reid, I know the addiction. I know your skin feels like it’s crawling right now and your head is probably spinning because you are going through withdrawals. I know all the lies, I used them all before” You said softly as you lean your forearms against the table; your eyes softened as your gaze stayed fixated on his.
You watched the words slowly process through his head. Slowly but surely he seemed to understand. He cleared his throat uncomfortably. “How- How long have you known?” He asked, his voice small, evident how confronting this conversation was for him — but he needed it. He needed to know he had someone in his corner.
“I had my suspicions for a while. I wanted to be sure before I said anything..” You muttered out as you reached across the table to take his hand in yours comfortingly, “I was waiting— hoping someone else said something, I know I’m not your first choice of a person to help you through this — but I am here” You said softly.
You weren’t not close to Spencer. You were, close in age, had similar interests and you two got along well. The childish crush you had on him remained buried in between your ribcage — that was the thing about being an addict, it made you a good actor. You could act your way through any feeling.
He almost coughed at your words, his hand tightening around yours as you gave him a supportive squeeze. “Im- Thank you. I-“ His words seemed heavy on his tongue as his head shook. “I’m glad it’s you.” He said honestly.
You offered him a soft smile. You could almost see a question weighing on his mind, “What is it spence? What do you want to ask?” You prompted him, knowing his mind was properly almost complete fog at this point, overtaken by cravings.
“What- What were you addicted to? When?” He asked, eyebrows pushed upwards as if he was trying to figure out the timeline of your addiction, it caused an uncomfortable bubble in your chest.
“I was an oxy’s girl” You said, you knew it wasn’t funny but it seemed as joking was the only way to get through talking about this no matter the unsettling feeling it left in your stomach.
You exhaled heavily, “I started taking them in college after a surgery.. and well- I got addicted, obviously.” You ran your free hand through your hair as the memory dwindled in the back of your mind. Spencer’s hand squeezed your hand softly, making a half hearted tight lipped smile line your lips.
“I was clean when I first started here.” You said, fingers fidgeting. He listened with as much focus as he could with your words — you didn’t take offence to his half out of it mind. You couldn’t. “I relapsed after I got shot and they put me on them — no one knew about my addiction and I was too embarrassed to admit it to the doctors in front of the team, I relapsed once I got out of hospital.” You stated honestly.
You remembered it clear as day, after four years sober, the day you relapsed still stayed engraved into the walls of your mind freshly. You had been shot in the shoulder on a case, you were rushed to hospital and put on oxycodone and other pain medications immediately while unconscious. When you woke up and asked what they had given you, the team was standing around your bed so all you could do was nod, the relapse happened after that.
Spencer’s hand tightened on yours as his face pulled with guilt when he realised he didn’t notice. He opened his mouth to apologise but you cut him off, already knowing what he was going to say. “It’s okay.” You said, tightening your grasp on his hand mirroring his grasp on yours. “I mastered my lies by then, after years and years of lying to everyone around me.. I knew what worked and what did it.. I did it to myself” You spoke honestly.
He chewed on his lip as his gaze adverted to the table. You held his hand tightly as you felt it twitch slightly. You knew he wanted to scratch his elbow and you knew why. Your face softened all over again.
“It’s not worth it Spence. Trust me.” You said, voice heavy with honesty and you meant it more than words could explain. “You get mean, really mean, you lose yourself more and more everyday. Its not worth losing everyone around you, its not worth losing yourself” You gaze stayed on his face even when his eyes avoided yours.
You heard the shaky breath leave his lips, and then his hand left yours as his pinched his eyelids, trying to stop the tears that threatened to spill from his eyes as he squeezed them shut. It made your stomach ache.
“It- Its so hard” He said quietly. You didn’t think you had ever experienced heartbreak like hearing his voice break. Any sort of pain you felt in your life didn’t quite compare to seeing him fall apart from your words.
“I know- I know” You instantly stood up from your seat as you walked around the table towards him, he stood up as well and before you could do anything his hands were around your waist, pressing his body against yours and his head into the crevice of your neck. You arms wrapped around him without a second thought.
You could feel his tears against the skin of your neck, they were hot and thick. Your hand ran across his back gently. You always thought you’d know exactly what to do if this moment ever came to be — but you didn’t.
Words died in the back of your throat as all you could do was hold the boy in your arms as he let out the quietest soft sobs that made a gut wrenching feeling settle in your bones as goosebumps ran over your skin.
“I- I want to stop — I want to- How did you stop?” He said, wiping his face as he stood up straight, arms pulled back by his side. Your heart ached and your skin burned.
You shook your head, “Do you remember when I had to take emergency leave for family emergency?” You asked, eyes looking up into his that gleamed wet and dreary. It pulled on your heart strings and uncomfortable amount,
He nodded briefly, after he took a long moment to try to recall. You nodded back, a sigh leaving your lips. “I- Um.. I overdosed.” You stated, trying to speak stronger than your voice allowed you to. “I was in hospital for two weeks, connected to machines and wires — forced to speak to someone everyday until they deemed me healthy. I didn’t tell anyone- no one knows” You continued to shake your head.
“Do not let it get to that point Spencer — Shaking on the floor and literally frothing at the mouth, feeling so cold but not even functioning enough to know what being cold is, is not want you want. I know it feels good now — but you are going to kill yourself whether you want to or not if you keep taking it.” You spoke clearly, wanting your point to be perfectly clear. It was not worth it.
He held guilt behind fogged eyes, guilt that he didn’t notice, guilt that he almost lost you — literally and he had no idea. That you were alone during the lowest point of your life and he had no idea. He allowed your words to cloud his mind for a moment as they worked to overpower the cravings that were working to controlling his system.
“i- I don’t- Im sorry.” He stuttered over his words as he failed to think of anything better to say. Your face fell briefly as you wrapped your arms around him again.
“Im here? Okay. We will do this together day by day. I am here and I’m always going to be here Spence.” You comforted non the less.
He needed it and you needed him
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writersblockedx · 6 months ago
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Something Inappropriate
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Pairing - Professor! Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader Summary - When Spencer Reid bumps into one of his students while she's highly intoxicated, he takes it upon himself to get her home safely. Warnings - Student/teacher relationship, drinking, very slight implication of sexual assault Words - 1.9K
A/n - Thinking about making this into a little mini-series so let me know if you like this!
masterlist
It was Friday night and every student was somewhere in town. Groups of them crowding the bar, ordering shots or vodka sodas. Whatever was cheapest and whatever could get them drunk enough.
It just so happened that this certain Friday night, Y/n had gulped on too many drinks. It was barely 1am before she was stumbling to the dance floor, her friend's hand interlocked. Her intoxicated dance was enough to draw some attention. Some men eyeing her in the corner, some more girls wanting to join in and a man she knew at the bar: Professor Spencer Reid. One of her lecturers. Her favourite lecturer in fact.
Y/n didn't really register it in her drunken state until she wandered up to the bar and spotted him closer up. He was sipping on a something with coke, stood beside a man she didn't recognise: broad-shouldered and tough. "Professor?" She called with a sly smile rising to her lips.
Spencer turned: a pleasant surprise. "Y/n, hi, it's good to see you." He returned the smile, observing the girl's obvious drunken state.
"Well, I certainly didn't expect to see you here...no offence." She giggled drunkenly. Her professor was, obviously, much older. He seemed the type to enjoy a book on a Friday night - not a bar.
Spencer pointed to the man next to him, "It's erm- Morgan dragged me here." Said man turned to face Y/n, a cheeky glint already settled in his eye.
"Are you one of the doctor's students, hm?" He asked.
"I am," She answered, "Do you work at BAU too?"
Morgan shook his head, "Used to."
"Well, it was nice bumping into you both," She sent them a final smile, "See you Monday morning, sir." She directed such at Spencer before turning to face the bartender who was awaiting to take her order.
And once she grasped it, returning to her friends with a stumble in her steps, Morgan glanced back at Reid. The boy knew Morgan long enough to know what was coming: what that glint in his eyes meant. "She's interesting," He commented, observing Spencer. "Maybe I need to switch career paths."
Spencer swallowed hard on his drink, "She's my student, Morgan." The other man only shrugged at such response; nothing in the sensual sense ever seemed off-putting to Morgan. But Spencer, well he had many lines he had yet to cross. And Y/n was one of them.
His eyes gazed over to the girl who was giggling at something one of her friends had said. She was beautiful - she would give Morgan that. But, as much as that was the case, a relationship further than academic would be... inappropriate. No matter what Spencer might have thought about the girl. Even now, as he glanced at her from afar, she seemed nothing but carefree, captivating, alluring. And he couldn't let his mind go there.
An hour or so had passed when Spencer finally convinced Morgan that they should go home. He wandered outside, making sure Morgan got into his taxi all right before the front door to the bar swung open. Y/n stepped out, attempting to grasp a single cigarette from the packet. She had yet to notice her professor watching her. Once she had one between her fingertips, another challenge arrived: lightening it.
"Need some help there?" Spencer wandered up to her, shoving his hand into his trouser pockets.
If she were sober, she probably would have stopped what she was doing. Smoking in front of one of her preferred professors wasn't exactly the view she wanted to give. "Erm- I-" She sighed, giving in and handing the lighter over to Spencer, "Yes."
He took it, creating a block from the wind with one hand and letting the fire ignite before the girl was able to inhale the smoke into her lungs. "Thanks," She muttered before he took a step away.
"You shouldn't smoke you know," He could go on a ramble - but he wouldn't.
She shrugged, "I know, I just- I can't find my friends, I don't know where they've gone." She explained. "I thought they might be out here."
Spencer looked around the pavement they were standing on: deserted. "But?"
"But, they're not." She huffed as the smoke exhaled from her lips. She stumbled as she took a step, "I think- I think they went to some club." Her head banged - it was all beginning to become blurred.
And at her words, Spencer's concern intensified. "And they left you here?" He questioned.
Her eyes fell to the floor as she attempted to think, "I didn't want to go." She told him. "I shouldn't be- I can't-"
Before she could get out her drunken slurs, a hand came to her shoulder, "Do you have a way home?"
Y/n found herself effortlessly staring into the gaze of her behavioural analyst professor. "I erm- I walk." She answered him as if he had willed the very words from her lips.
Spencer decided then and there; he wasn't having this. If not for the very feeling inside him that compelled him to take care of her, it was the fact she was a young girl walking alone at night. Quite frankly, he taught some of the men at this college - he didn't trust them. "Come on," He spoke as he wandered over to his car.
Yet, Y/n stayed where she was, "What?" She couldn't even think this was a possibility.
"I'll drive you home," He said as he stopped, just by the driver's door. "Don't worry, I've only had two drinks. I just want to make sure you get home safe."
She shook her head. As tempting as a drive home with her attractive professor was, she couldn't possibly. "I'm fine, honestly-" She took a step, tripping on her own two feet.
Luckily, Spencer caught her before her face hit the stone concrete. Her fingers gripped his wrists as he took a hold of her. They didn't let go - not straight away. A moment passed as Y/n raised her head as to meet her professor's gaze. "What were you saying again?" He made the point of making.
She let go and straightened her back, "Are you sure don't mind?"
His smile became one of empathy, "I'd rather do this than wonder what could happen to you alone."
And so, without another thought, she slipped into the passenger seat of Spencer's car. A part of her wanted to be home, wanted to be in her bed. The other, however, liked the idea of being here...with him. "It's erm, Rose court, the student accom." She informed. "It's probably only a five-minute drive."
Spencer thought about making the point that even if it was an hour's drive, he would have made it at that very moment. He wanted her safe. Maybe because she was a brilliant student, maybe because he was concerned, or maybe because something else was urging his actions. Something of which the man had had a conscious decision to push to the side.
Though, even in a five-minute drive, Y/n had been lulled into sleep. The safety of someone she knew, the comfort of the leather car seat and the way the drinks had made her drowsy. Her eyelids had grown heavy and she didn't put up a fight against it. 
When the car engine stopped, Spencer looked over at her. For a few seconds, he thought about not waking her. She was so peaceful, tranquil, with no worries, nothing but her own dreams. "Y/n," He whispered. Nothing. He placed a gentle hand on her shoulder, "Y/n, hey, we're here."
Slowly, her eyelids started to flutter open and she found her view of her professor. It was all real. It wasn't just an intoxicated dream. "Sorry," She murmured in response.
"It's fine, don't worry about it," He spoke before exiting the car and going round as to open the passenger door for the girl. "Are you okay to walk?"
She slipped her legs out, "I'm fine yeah."
Famous last words.
The moment her heels hit the concrete pavement, she wobbled right into Spencer's hold. "Okay, I'll walk you up to your room." He decided then and there, without even consulting the girl on such.
"I can walk up to my room, professor." She argued.
But all she was met with was a raised brow of uncertainty, "You can't get out of the car without falling. How do you think stairs are going to go?" That was something she chose not to argue with.
She started wandering up to the first door, searching through her bag for the keys. She swayed until she felt an arm wrap around her waist. Her body steadied. Her eyes found Spencer again. The subtle touch was making even her drunken, confident self nervous. "Is this okay?" He checked when he observed her unsure body language.
The girl swallowed, "Hmh." And then she looked away, finally grasping her keys.
Spencer watched as she stumbled over to the door, not daring to let his touch leave the girl. She slipped the key into the door and they were over the first hurdle. And then, stairs. "Let's go slow, okay?" Spencer soothed her through.
She gave nothing but an incoherent nod as she followed Spencer's steps. "Which one is it?" He questioned.
Y/n was pointing to a door across from the stairs, "B..B35." She informed as Spencer guided her to the door and she started looking for the apartment door key. "I've got it...somewhere." In the midst of her search, a thought came to mind. Her movement stopped and she glanced up over at Spencer, "Can I ask you something actually? While I'm, you know, erm-"
"Drunk?" Spencer chuckled as he finished her sentence.
"I mean, yeah." She couldn't deny such a fact. "I mean, I always wondered why you left the BAU? You always talk about it in lectures and it just- you talked about it with a lot of love." Spencer's smile faltered at the thought of nostalgic memories. "Sorry, if that's intruding, I just, I-"
"No, no, it's fine," Spencer's words were quick to ease the girl's worrisome thoughts. "I suppose I needed a break, a lot of things happened, I needed time away from the field to process them I guess." He explained, wondering if the girl would even remember any of this by the morning. Would she even know who dropped her off home?
She hummed, "Makes sense I guess." And like that, with no judgement or opinion, she went back to find her apartment key. "Here,"
Y/n swung the door open to her dorm, "Are you sure you're going to be alright?" Spencer checked.
"I think I can just about make it to my bed," She joked as she leaned against the doorframe. "Thank you, by the way." He didn't have to do what he did. Most professors wouldn't have done. But he, he was different.
His hands found their way back into the deep depths of his pockets as he replied, "I don't just have a responsibility to teach, but also a duty of care, I'm always here to make sure you're okay."
And he would be. For her, definitely. There was something ever so alluring about the girl. Something he would force himself to ignore. Something he wouldn't act on. Something which was inappropriate. 
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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 4 months ago
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Long Snake Moan 1
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My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.
Character: Loki
Summary: your boss gives you a task you're not prepared for.
As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️
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“I think it’s best it comes from you,” Tony pats your shoulder. You stare at him in disbelief. 
“Me?” You bat your eyes dumbly. “But I just... I’m just passing along the information--” 
“Look, sweetheart, I’m in the middle of a PR crisis here.” He flashes his phone screen at you. The talk of Stark Tower has been his latest disaster out in the middle of nowhere. Usually, these things are forgotten but an unfortunate post has made the rounds. “You delivered the message perfectly, you can do it again.” 
“But, sir, with due respect, this isn’t exactly in my job description.” You walk backwards as he strides around his desk and tucks his phone away. 
“Your job is to do what I tell you to do. Now,” he looks at you, his eyes flicking up and down, “I think you’re the best possible carrier pigeon for this. Look at you. That ungodly asshole can’t be mad at you and I definitely am not telling him. Not without another explosion and I’m on probation right now.” He taps his chest and his suit expands around his body. “His brother should be wandering around, maybe he can help control the beast.” 
“Sir, don’t make me do this--” He goes to the window and hits the button to pop out the pane. 
“I pay you well enough, sweetheart, so get to work.” He jumps out and his helmet covers his head, blue flame blasting from his heels and gloves as he takes off into the sky.  
You cringe and look down. You should quit. You’ve been reciting the mantra to yourself for months; quit, quit, quit. You wish you had that choice. So far, your resume hasn’t baited any takers. Even with all your work for Stark Industries. Considering who your reference is, you’re starting to wonder. 
You glance around and steel yourself. You walk out of the office and down the hall. Your low heels click, in slow tempo with your dread. You trawl the top floor, searching for a certain blond giant. Thor isn’t anywhere to be found. You’ll have to try the compound... maybe you could just give them a call. 
No, you know Mr. Stark wouldn’t like that. Even if you could get a hold of either of the Asgardians, your boss would make you face the music in person. You take out your phone and scroll through the contacts. Most of them, you’ve never had to call, they’re only there for emergencies and usually, you’re not the one calling them for that. 
You put the phone to your ear as it dials. It rolls for so long, you’re certain you’ll get the voicemail. It picks up at the last moment, the line buzzing and unclear. 
“Hel-lo?” Thor’s deep baritone greets you. “It is the little assistant, yes?” 
You can just make out his hazy words. “Yes, Mr. Odinson? Can you hear me?” 
He laughs and you hear him shuffling around. The crackling stops and the line clears. “Mr. Odinson. You Midgardians. It’s Thor.” 
“Yes, Thor, well, um, where are you?” 
“Is there something the matter?” He asks as his tone turns dire. “Where are you, little one?” 
You ignore the question tossed back at you and clear your throat. “Um, it’s about... um, I think it would be best if we had this discussion face to face but Mr. Stark told me to pass on some news and yeah... I’d like to meet up if poss--” 
“Little one!” Thor appears before you, out of breath, his phone clutched in his hand. He didn’t hear a damn thing you just said. You smile. You’ve trained that expression so well, it’s almost believable. “Where is the danger?” 
You almost laugh. It’s endearing to have him so concerned. You doubt his brother will be as accommodating. 
“Hi, uh, like I said, it’s nothing serious. It’s erm, do you know where you brother is?” Your voice hits a pitch so high it makes your ears hurt. 
“Ugh, what has he done now? I swear, I’ve told him--” 
“It’s nothing he’s done. Well, it’s kind of it. Okay, um, Thor, I need to talk to your brother.” 
“Loki? You need to talk to him? No one wants to talk to Loki,” he narrows his eyes in consternation. 
“Yes, well, I have a job to do. I’d also appreciate if you’d be there to, you know, act as mediator,” you make yourself small as you push your shoulders up to your ears. “Please?” 
“Of course, little one, of course, let us go find that snake!” He grabs your arm before you can react and almost has you off your feet as he drags you down the hall. “I left him in the lobby. He isn’t fond of this place.” 
Maybe that will make this all easier, you think. 
Thor doesn’t slow down. You stumble with him as you struggle to keep your shoes from falling off. You tap his arm as you get to the elevator. 
“Really, we can take our time,” you assure him as he jams his finger into the down button.  
You’re really in no hurry for any of this. You’re almost hoping that if you put this off longer, someone else might just come along and tell them for you. You know that won’t happen but you can hope. Even so, Tony has more important things to do and as usual, you’re left with his grunt work. 
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littlemissmentallyunstable · 3 months ago
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there’s been lots of requests and comments so here it is PART 3!!! (SHE’S HERE first anon, hope you survived this long second anon and it was not a dream third anon, I’m posting/making it now fourth and fifth anon)
some of you were going feral for part 2 so I hope this lives up the expectation 😭😭 if not I’m severely sorry
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title: the dancer and the angel part 3
pairing: grayson hawthorne x reader
synopsis: grayson has just admitted to kissing lyra kane, the girl you’d been worried about, the girl that was stunning, the girl he said didn’t matter… he chose her over you so now what??
parts: part 1 part 2 part 4
warnings: swearing, SPOILERS FOR TGG
a/n: okay so I hate switching POVs but I felt it was necessary here and I know the start is the same as the part 2 but in Gray’s POV but trust me there is lot more
tag list: @tornqdowarnings @whatsamongus @wish-i-were-heather @inmyheaddd @never-enough-novels @sweetlikeanangel @midiosaamor @sweetreveriee @emelia07 @f4iry-bell @zaraaaabear @thoughtdaughter3 @benny1989fredd @elysianwayy77 @maybxlle @sheisntyou @anintellectualintellectual @aleatorio1234 @adalia-jaycee @off-to-the-r4ces @lyra-kane @reminiscentreader @lyrakanefanatic @imaseabear @elizaa31
GRAYSON’S POV
Guilt has chewed me up and spat me out the whole walk back to our shared room. There’s a pulsating lump in my throat that aches relentlessly, reminding me of what I’ve done. I am a terrible person. I never deserved her and now I’ve done the worst thing I could’ve possibly done, that anyone on this whole planet could’ve ever done. And she will never forgive me for it. I wish there was a way to turn back time and alter certain events. As soon as the time machine is invented, no doubt by my very own brother Xander, I’m coming back to moments before now to stop my idiot brain from-
I can’t even think it. Maybe it’s because it makes it more real. It’s like the last few moments of my life have been erased from my brain, it’s a blank canvas and I have no paints. I know what I did but I can’t remember exact details. Still, I can taste her on my lips, an over sweet taste that was almost too sickly has now morphed into something bitter. Her perfume lingers on my clothes and adds to my ever growing headache. I don’t want to smell her, I don’t want the reminder of the awful human I have become. The monster that now inhabits my body, lives in my skin, breathes my air and poisons the people I love. The ones I truly love.
Y/n. At one point she was the only reason I was still existing, still carrying on. She somehow managed to give me the fight to keep carrying on. I got up most days because I knew I would get to see her face. And now I’m going to throw everything away, our whole relationship. Everything we’ve been through or planned to go through together. It will reduced to nothing in a few minutes.
I’m outside the door, my feet have carried me here through muscle memory. I must go in, I must face her I’m aware but I’m afraid. I’ve never felt so pathetic. I wonder if she is still asleep. Though, I can’t work out whether I’d rather she be awake or asleep. I don’t think I could bear to look at her angelic feature either way. Those wide eyes, round lips, heavenly- I can’t bear it, I’m going to lose her, all of her.
I fiddle around with the key, hoping the door will just never unlock so I don’t have to face this. The mechanism clicks, mocking me. I step in silently and face the door to lock back up again. I don’t understand why, I know I’ll be kicked out in a matter of seconds, what good will a locked door be? And yet I’m still facing the door, fumbling with the key, my back towards her. Though I can hear her getting out of bed. She’s awake. My body’s immediate response is to go into a state of paralysis. I can’t move as the guilt ridden cement hardens over my body, creating an outer shell of the cruel creature I’ve become. Her body is behind mine. I can feel her bright presence radiating her usual tentative nature.
“Are you okay?” I hear her whisper as she touches my arm so gently it stings.
It stings so sharply because I know what I’ve done. The shameful crime I’ve committed. I jerk away suddenly.
“Are you hurt?” she asks, deep concern in her tone.
It kills me. It’s a poisoned dagger wedged deep within my heart, hitting every vital artery. Her voice is so soft, so melodic. She cares so much, too much and I’m about to destroy it all. And as much as I could not say a word I couldn’t live a lie, the guilt would eat me alive. How could I look her in the eye and tell her she’d always been the only one when I know she hadn’t? She’d already noticed earlier today my distant mood. She had always been observant, vigilant about those things concerning me and I’d always been grateful. I wouldn’t have that anymore. Lyra had been on my mind earlier and I couldn’t tell her. Now she would realise.
“No,” I reply.
My voice is unfamiliar to myself, it’s sharp and blunt. It sounds horribly harsh. I could feel it hurt her, the air ripples with a touch of dimness when I hurt her. Even with my back to her it’s obvious to me. I know her so well, too well and from this day on we might drift to perfect strangers. That thought hurts me more than anything.
“Where have you been?” she says. Her voice so sweet, so innocent, cruelly naïve.
I don’t want to break her, I don’t want to do it. It would be like smashing a glass ballerina. Something so beautiful, something so delicate should be preserved not purposely broken. I force my eyes to meet hers. I immediately regret it. The soft mellow colour all melts into one, clawing at my heartstrings and ripping the organ to shreds. She’s so beautiful. How had I ever looked at any other? How had I let myself?
Suddenly I’m drowning in guilt. I don’t know how, it just comes over me suddenly. Like a tidal wave I had my back to. I’ve been swept under by an endless ocean of shame. My lungs swollen full of my own black sin. I don’t know how but I manage to choke out two shaky words.
“I’m sorry.”
My voice cracks. My voice never cracks. She knows that. I’m sturdy, I’m strong, I’m the rock that never breaks and here I am. Here I am crumbling into dust. She’s too smart to miss the signs, she’s too clever not to immediately know something so horribly wrong, her mind is too sharp not to have worked half of it out. She’d already been suspicious of Lyra. She’d already seen what might happen between us even before I did, before it did actually happen.
“Gray?” she asks, my name sounding too sweet on her tongue. The next time she says it will taste bitter, I’m sure of it. She barely whispers the word but I hear her, it rings in my mind. It forever will.
I’m full of pure regret and guilt, it wracks my soul, shaking me relentlessly back and forth until I’m dizzy with it. Remorse’s doors suddenly burst wide open, ready for my grand entrance. My hopes and dreams snicker and smirk smugly as I walk down the runway, my head hanging in embarrassment.
I need to tell her. My heart races in my chest and there’s a lump stuck in my throat, so large it’s started to block my airways. I don’t know how to get the words out, I don’t know how to talk. I feel like I’m suffering some sort of aneurysm. She looks at me, her eyebrows pinched in and eyes narrowed and then I see it. Her eyebrows part and slowly sink. She knows already.
“Tell me,” she murmurs, her voice of an angel shaking.
I close my eyes, trying to suppress the tears. I haven’t cried in years I’ve forgotten this feeling, this heavy weighted agony that ripples through me causing water to infiltrate my eyes. I bite the inside of my cheek and still my shaking hands.
“I’m sorry,” I tell her, an uninvited raw desperation ripping through my voice, “I never wanted to hurt you, I never meant for it to happen, I-“
“Tell me,” she grits through her teeth sharply, her eyes glitter so beautifully fierce and fiery, like she wants to kill.
But I know she’s trying to steady her rising sadness by covering up with her fury. I can see through her, like she can see through me. I freeze and the pause elongates. The aching silence is deadly, it’s fatal. I wish she didn’t have to make me say it.
“I kissed her,” I murmur, the words making me feel sick as I say them.
“Who?” she asks, he tone low and ferocious, “who did you kiss? I want to hear you say it.”
I’m twisting a knife into her heart and I know it. But she wants me to cut deeper. She’s a woman of principle, I’ve already hurt her, I might as well do the job properly in her eyes. And I can’t deny her this. Not I’ve stripped her of her dignity, her trust, her love, her everything.
“I kissed Lyra,” I whisper, suddenly aware of the dampness on my cheeks.
A sour taste fills my mouth. The words send lightning sparks across my jaw, sending ribbons of agony down the sides of my face. The truth hurts. Literally. Tears are rolling the side of my face, but I don’t bring my hand to wipe them and nor do I stop them. I’ve never felt more broken.
But she doesn’t care, there is not pity in her eyes. Good. I don’t want he to pity me. She should hate me. She should want me to miserable and hope for me to have a lifetime of the torture I’ve just forced her to endure.
“Get out,” she murmurs, the anger bringing out her natural stunning features. A flicker of boldness in her eyes, the striking angles of her eyebrows, her strong thick lashes and her full lips.
“I’m sorry.” they’re the only words I remember how to say, through my internal fit of torment.
I expect her to hit me around the face, a good strong punch I know she can make or a sharp smack that’ll leave a red hand mark pressed against my cheek. I imagine she might scream at me and ask me all the questions I wish I had answers to. But she does none of that. She only looks at me darkly and utters two last words.
“Leave Grayson.”
I can hear the tears she’s trying to hold back, through the numb façade. I know her better than she’ll ever realise. But it’s not fair for me to stay, not after this. She’s only asking one thing of me when she should be doing so much more. So I do. I turn my back on her again. And I leave.
***
Tears pummel down my cheeks like never before. I can’t remember the last time I cried. I don’t think I’ve ever cried like this. I’m blinded by them as I stumble sideways. I don’t know where I’m going. I stand on the edge of the cliff and sink to my knees, letting out a loud guttural scream. I’m there until my throat is so raw I can’t feel it. I bite my lip so hard it draws blood. And then I’m up again and running, following a path my footsteps are dragging me towards. I can’t think straight, I’m dizzy with pain. Before I know it I’m outside the safe house on the island. My hands tremor on the handle and I swing open the door, falling to the floor for my sobs to take me over. My chest aches and burns and tightens. That’s when I realise I can’t breathe properly. I fumble around for my phone, a tear splashing into the illuminated screen. With uncontrollably shaking hands, I typed no words. Just three numbers.
911
***
The wait feels like years, maybe even decades. Each second taunts me, with a mocking tick. I’d crumbled into the corner of the room at some point and stayed there, curled up and choking on my own sorry sobs. What had I done? What had I done? What had I done?
The question circles around my head like the nostalgia of a distorted tune of a merry go round. I’ve never made such a big mistake and my life and deep down there’s a sinking sensation that is telling me I’m not going to be able to make this better. I sob, loud harsh sobs that hurt my lungs and knock the air out of my stomach. My whole being shakes with every strangled noise that escapes my lips. Grieving. I’m grieving over something I chose to throw away. It’s cruelly ironic. But I think part of me is also grieving the good man I once thought myself to be, that she made me believe I could be.
I turned my back on the one and only person in this world who just cared about me, took me for who I am and believed I could do anything. She only wanted the best, she only wanted happiness and she deserved so much more and here I am, stabbing her in the back and dancing in her blood like a madman. She was my everything and I managed to mess it up, just like everything else in my life. I can’t have normal relationships, I can’t do something without messing it up. I’m one big screw up the opposite of how the old man raised me to be. He’s looking down on me now and I can feel his disappointment, like an infection coursing through my bloodstream. I failed him, I failed my brothers, I’ve failed her, I’ve failed myself.
She thought I was better, she believed I could be more than his expectation. And I was stupid enough to believe it, encourage it and let her belive the lie too. We’re all idiots.
I can recite her favourite song, her favourite flower, her favourite food and favourite colour. I can tell you all about her favourite novels and how she orders her books on an endless bookshelf. I know that she tells people her favourite film is ‘it’s a wonderful life’ but it’s actually secretly ‘tangled’. I know she prefers to stay inside and cuddle under blankets rather than have a night out. I know she’d rather reason a thousand books than watch a thousand movies. I know she wanted a library in her dream house and two, maybe three children with her husband and I know she’d sometimes debate about getting a cat as well. I know how she loves brownie batter more than the actual brownies and can’t sleep with any lights on. I know she still uses the bunny rhyme to tie her shoelaces and how she fiddles with her collarbone when she’s nervous. I know exactly what diamond she wanted in her engagement ring and her favourite country. I know what people she despises and I know what people she adores. I know every inch of her face, every hair on her head, every sparkle in her eyes and every cell on her skin.
I know her.
I know her, but that can’t help me now. Pain ripples across the left side of my chest and my hand clamps over it as I grit my teeth to try and bear it. I hear the door creek open and can’t tell whether it comforts me or not.
“Grayson pookie!” Xander calls out, “we’re here.”
His cheerful voice doesn’t provide me with the cushion to this pain I thought it might.
“And we have some in incredibly strong whisky,” Jameson adds, I can here the mischievous grin in his voice, it’s been the same all of his life.
“My nose hairs are officially burnt off,” Xander agrees.
I can’t speak. I try to call out for them but the words die in my swollen throat.
“Where are you Gray?” Nash calls out, he sounds a little more worried than the other two but is concealing it well.
“Here,” my voice is hoarse and laboured, even I can’t recognise it.
The mood immediately shifts, you can feel it. The air becomes tainted with concern as their footsteps approach my cowering figure. The case of whiskey is dropped as there is an audible thunk as it hits the floor. I can feel their bodies enveloping around mine creating something of a circle of safety. I look up to worried face and shiny eyes.
“Help me,” I gasp for air, greedily trying to gulp down the oxygen that I feel so deprived of, “please.”
“We’re here to help you Gray,” Nash murmurs softly. His voice had always been something comforting, especially when I was younger. I wonder if he will be so kind when I tell him what I’ve done. He’s going to hate me, there’s nothing he despises more than a man who can’t respect a woman.
I shake my head and choke out another struggling sob, instead of the words I don’t know how to say. Jameson’s eyes flit between mine and Nash’s, the concern rippling across his features. He’s never looked this concerned for me in his life. I think to all the times as children I’d helped him settle after a nightmare and wiped his tears that he hated falling when the old man had humiliated him. Oh how the tables had turned. Now it was my little brother wiping my tears.
“What’s wrong?” he asks, his touch so gentle it shocks me.
“I can’t-“ I barely get out, wrapping my hands around my neck.
“Gray…” he trails off, unmasked emotion hitting his face like a train.
“I can’t breathe,” I wheeze as the invisible blanket that was set out to suffocate me tightens over my nose and mouth.
“Hey, Gray, look at me,” Nash says, his voice smooth and reassuring, “in and out okay, in and out.”
“I can’t,” I pant, my limbs shaking embarrassingly uncontrollably.
Xander takes both of my hands into his and squeezes them until they still, “yes you can, follow Nash’s instructions okay?”
“Slowly, do it with me,” Nash nods, “in through your nose and out through your mouth.”
I do. In and out, a rhythmic pattern. Each time Nash reminds me how to breathe. There’s an aura of calmness about his voice that lulls my panic into a narcoleptic sleep. Once my breathing is halfway regulated I look at him, dead in the eye, with shaking sorrowful lips.
“I fucked up,” I sob, “I fucked up and I don’t know what to do.”
They all share a look, this is the worst state they’ve seen me and we all know it. I begin to pathetically sob uncontrollably once again, the feelings building up in my chest and tearing me apart from the inside out. It’s like a rabid pack of wolves had been set loose to feed on my internal organs. I don’t know how to stop the ocean of tears, I don’t know how to shut my mind off, I don’t know how to help myself. Reel myself in from this abominable mess I’ve become. I’m hyperventilating, my chest throbbing up and down unevenly. Nash nods towards Jameson, a short, soft, sharp nod of approval.
“Hey! Calm down!” Jameson snaps, giving me a hard slap around the face, “snap out of this!”
The shock shuts me up and the sting stops my tears. I’m back to reality instead of a wallowing mess. Nash must’ve been approving the slap I realise in the sudden cleared head I’d obtained
“Sorry,” Jameson mumbles at me, looking a little guilty.
I massage my jaw, “no I think I needed that.”
He grimaces and then softens his tone, “what happened Gray?”
I tense, growing very still, “I can’t say it out loud, I can’t, I’m awful, I’m horrible-“
“What happened?” Nash drawls.
I choke out yet another unnatural sound. Seems the slap didn’t snap me hard enough into reality. I exhale slowly. I have to say it, now or never.
“I kissed Lyra.”
The words hurt even more this time, that they did when I’d admitted it to y/n. Neither one of my brothers can mask their honest reaction.
“Oh fuck,” Jameson blurts out, “you cheated?”
Anger. He’s fuming with me. I can see the rage trailing through his eyes and blossoming into his expression.
“I didn’t mean to,” I reply, feeling like a small child.
Jameson’s eyes widen and fury flashes across his face, “how can you not mean-“
Nash shoots him a look and his mouth glues shut. Then he turns to me and I can’t quite read him yet. I gulp.
“No one does that kind of thing for no reason,” he says sternly, “I never thought you’d be the one of the four of us to ever do that, seems I was mistaken little brother.”
Disappointment. He’s disappointed. A horrible sinking feeling settles in my stomach. Nash is disappointed in me. It’s one of the worst feelings imaginable. There had only been few times in my life when he had been and I remember the feeling all too well. Shame has me in a chokehold an it’s succeeding in strangling me. I can‘t bring myself to meet his eyes, I don’t want to see that look I can feel is on his face, that look of pure disapproval.
“How did she find out?” Xander asks quietly.
Shock. He hadn’t said anything until now, but his lips had been slightly parted and he’d paled a little. He never thought I’d do this to anyone, he’s yet another person I’ve let down.
“I told her,” I murmur, “the guilt was consuming me.”
“As it should,” Jameson snaps, twitching with a fiery ferocity.
“Jamie,” Nash says, trying to keep some kind of diplomacy.
“No,” he growls, “you don’t do that to a girl, your girl, you can’t do that!”
“Don’t take the moral highground now,” I spit.
“When you’ve cheated on your girlfirend? Yeah I think I will,” he replies, the bitterness rolling off of his tongue like a deadly poison. He doesn’t know I’ve already poisoned myself with my own actions, his words can’t hurt me.
“I didn’t mean to,” I falter.
“Bullshit,” he grits through his teeth, in two definitive and threatening symbols.
“Careful Jamie,” Nash warns.
“All this is your fault anyway,” I continue, ignoring the warning.
“So it’s my fault, you kissed another girl, yeah, okay Gray,” he nods his head with a sarcastic smile.
“It is!” I exclaim, throwing my hands in the air, “if you hadn’t locked me in a room with her-“
“So it’s my fault you couldn’t keep up dick under control,” he quips, interrupting me.
“You could’ve locked me with my one of my sisters but of course you just had choose the only girl who isn’t related to me,” I seethe.
“Odette isnt related to you,” Xander pipes up. I’d forgotten he was there, that anyone besides me and Jameson were there.
“Odette is old enough to be my grandmother,” I scowl at him, immediately feeling bad as the words leave my lips, but don’t dwell on it as I turn back to Jameson, “why did you make me a player in your sick excuse of a game?”
“You can’t use the game as an excuse,” he laughs darkly.
“I will,” I reply sharply, “this is your fault and Avery’s fault too.”
“Avery? Don’t make me laugh,” he rolls his eyes.
“The game never should’ve been created by her,” I yell, “that’s why I’m in this mess!”
“No, you’re in this mess because of you,” he shouts back, “but don’t you dare bring Avery in to this it’s not her fault.”
I feel like I’m one of those circus acts, the ones that lay on a spinning board and get knives hurled at them. Only in my case the knives are the truth and they actually hit me.
“Why did you make me a player?” I ask quieter now, my voice hoarse, “why?”
“I didn’t know making you a player would result in this,” he says.
“It was so irreverent,” I snap becoming angrier by the second, a sudden burst of red overriding any rational sense in my head, “I never needed to play.”
“You can’t pin this on me Gray, if it didn’t happen with Lyra, who knows who else it would’ve happened with,” he hisses.
“So you think I’m just like this? You think this is me?” I ask him, prodding the hollow space where my heart used to be.
“I didn’t before….” he trails off, sighing, “but now I don’t know what the fucking think of you.”
“Jamie,” Nash repeats again, in the same warning tone as before. We both ignore him.
“Just because you and Avery are all peaches and roses-“
“Leave Avery out of your anger issues,” he roars defensively.
“No,” I counter, raising an eyebrow, mirroring his usual argument demeanour, “you think you’re so perfect now you’ve got your dream girl and the two of you are so much better off than the rest of us, because your love is undeniable or whatever bullshit people feed you about it-“
Jameson’s features twitch for a split second. He’s hurt, but won’t show it. He’ll refuse but I know that it hit a nerve that won’t heal for a long time. I stop mid-sentence.
“I am far from perfect, I think we both know that,” he says, in a low voice, “look you’re hurting, I get it, but I’m not going to mollycoddle you and tell you it’s okay when it’s not. I’m not going to stand here and lie to your face because as your brother that would be the worst possible thing for me to do to you.”
“My brother would try and understand what it’s like from my side,” I say, desperation clawing at my voice.
“You’re looking for a fight Grayson and it’s not going to end well, not with me,” he warns, shaking his head.
“Maybe I do want a fight, but you know you do too,” I growl rolling up my sleeves, “so fine, I’ll give you a fight Jamie.”
“I don’t want a fight, I want some justice for y/n,” he states simply, “she did nothing to deserve that Gray, she’s been so good to you, the sweetest soul on this earth and she’s helped you through a lot of shit and this is how you’re repaying her?”
“Jameson,” Nash says.
He ignores him for the third time and I can see his calm facade beginning to drop, “you think because you called a 911 and you’re here crying that I should feel sorry for you?”
“I thought you were going to be here for me,” I reply numbly, my tone dead, “clearly I’m mistaken.”
“I can’t be there for someone with no morals,” he replies, “you cheated and you’re the one who’s upset about it, how do you think she feels?”
“You think I don’t know her?” I fire back, my throat burning, “you think I don’t know exactly what she’s doing right now? I hate myself, I hate myself for doing what I did!”
“Good you should!” he screams back.
Before I know it I feel myself charges towards him, ready to throw a good punch but Nash and Xander launch onto me to quickly and managing to hold me back. Nash’s grip is so tight I don’t dare try and budge.
“Out. Now.” Nash says sharply to Jameson, “go and cool off.”
His tone sends a shiver down my spine that I won’t admit to. Jameson opens his mouth to argue.
“Jameson.”
He skulks away, with a sullen face. We all wait frozen until the door has been slammed shut. Nash lets my arm go, dropping it harshly and Xander follows suit.
“And you’re no better,” he turns to me, placing his cowboy hat on a nearby surface, “I’m only sending him away because you can’t be left alone in this mess and so the two of you don’t rip each other to pieces.”
Silence stills the room. His voice echoes but makes no sound all at the same time.
“Take a second, take a breath and we’re going to talk this through like adults,” he says, “if you want to carry on being a child then leave. Calm down, you’re not a toddler having a tantrum, you’re a grown man, act like it.”
Nash has a way of snapping me back to reality. I nod shakily.
“Talk.”
I begin, “I don’t even know why I kissed her, I didn’t mean to it just-“
“Happened?” he guesses, “no little brother, that doesn’t just happen.”
“The I don’t know Nash,” I say, tipping my head back and resting it on the wall behind me.
I hadn’t meant for it to happen. I didn’t want it to happen. It just did. She was there, just stood there. Her hands looped naturally around the back of my neck, warm and gentle, “someone sent me that ticket Grayson. I thought it was Avery but if it wasn’t…”
She trails off, her voice small and tentative. Her golden eyes filled with the utmost worry. I wanted her to know she’d be okay, that she’d have someone to keep her safe. Her arms get more comfortable around my neck. She’d felt it too, the electrifying spark between us. It was exhilarating but something about it was off, synthetic.
“Then who the hell was it?” I questioned, my hands magnetised to her cheek all of a sudden.
Lyra didn’t pull away and neither did I. I lower my head and she raised onto her toes and titled hers back a little. She was graceful, like a dancer. My lips brushed over hers. They were sweet like honey. For the first few moments it was bliss and the realisation hit, like a stone to my stomach. I jerked backwards suddenly, shaking my head.
“I can’t do this,” I said, my fingers trying to wipe her taste off of my lips, “I don’t- this isn’t-“
I was tongue-tied, not able to explain to her how wrong it was. The words wouldn’t work the way I wanted them to.
“Gray?” Lyra murmurs, a tender voice. Her amber eyes are widened and slightly confused.
“No,” I yell. She flinches and another wave of horribly strong emotion rushes over me, drowning me. “No I’m in love with someone else. I don’t know what that was. I can’t-“
I stumbled backward a few steps and the turned around and ran. Like the coward that I am.
“It did just happen,” I murmur, lifting my head from the wall to look my older brother in eye, “I swear to god, I didn’t intend for it to happen, I didn’t even know I had feelings for her.”
I can see he disagrees still and isn’t convinced. I don’t know how to prove it to him.
“Let’s establish one thing here, who do you like?” Xander asks me.
“I like Lyra,” I say slowly, “but I love y/n.”
Nash shakes his head, “if you loved her you wouldn’t have done that.”
“I made a mistake,” I press on.
“And you will pay for it and regret it for the rest of your life,” he shrugs, “it’s not what you wanted to hear but it’s the truth. Listen, I love Libby and loving someone means so many things. One of those things is that I don’t even look at other women, to me they don’t even really exist. Libby is my world and no one else even comes into the equation, so the fact is someone else came into the equation for you, meaning the love wasn’t there.”
“But it was, I felt it,” I say, my voice breaking as I press my chest.
“What do you feel for Lyra?” he asks plainly.
“I don’t know, she’s intriguing and smart and beautiful,” I murmur, “and I like her, but I don’t know if I have romantic feelings for her.”
“Then why did you kiss her?”
“Comfort? Lust? Greed? Selfishness? I don’t know it just happened,” I repeat for what feels like the hundredth time.
“Stop using that phrase as a get out clause,” Nash shakes his head, “you have to admit to yourself more than anyone that this didn’t just happen.”
“I leaned in and I put my lips of hers, and I didn’t stop it, it didn’t feel wrong straight away,” I admit out loud finally.
“It didn’t?” Xander says, looking wounded.
“No, it didn’t feel wrong until I realised what I’d done,” I say, looking down, suddenly finding my shoelaces to be the most interesting thing in the world.
No one replies for a long while. That’s when I realise how exhausted I truly am and how much I crave sleep.
“I vouched for you,” Xander says quietly, “I told her that you’d never do that, that you weren’t that guy.”
“I’m not,” I say, in denial at first. I take a moment to analyse his sentence and then come to a sickening realisation, “oh my god I am…”
“She was already anxious about where your loyalties were Gray,” he winces.
“I proved her right, I proved every worry she had right, I just proved to her that she shouldn’t have trusted me,” I spiral, hating that I hadn’t seen it sooner.
Xander looks to Nash for support for a reply.
“Yeah,” Nash sighs, “you did.”
“I need to fix this, there has to be a way-“
“Grayson,” the acuteness of his voice cuts through my sentence like a machete.
I freeze and clamp my mouth firmly shut.
“This isn’t a broken vase, you can’t glue it back together or buy a new one,” he tells me softly.
He was referring to a time where Jameson and I had been seven and eights years old. We’d been brawling of course, Hawthorne style and accidentally smashed a vase. Usually it wouldn’t matter, there were vases all over Hawthorne House and they were smashed frequently. But this wasn’t just any vase. It was nan’s priceless vase that had belonged to her daughter, our grandmother, Alice. We were never allowed within a five mile radius of it, but like the rebellious children we were, we didn’t listen. Through our fight we’d smashed the whole thing, it was truly destroyed. The two of us stayed up for nights on need gluing together the pieces only to realise it was never going to look like the original again. So we’d hunted to buy another, problem was, this vase was one of a kind. It turned out after four weeks or trying to ship a similar one in that nan had known the whole time. She didn’t speak to either of us for a good few months.
“This is real life, she is a real person and you hurt her,” he explains, “fixing this isn’t an option. There isn’t a way to fix it, there are no pieces to our back together, okay?”
I’m silent but it’s the loudest voice in the room. My face pinches together in agony. For the first time, a little of the disappointment fades and my brother’s face softens. He wraps a strong arm around me and I flop into him like a lifeless bag of nothingness. I bury my head into his shoulder and try to cry but there seems to be no tears left. He understands and holds me for a moment. Suddenly I’m six years old again and crying in Nash’s in my arms over Jameson hiding my favourite teddy bear at the time, then I’m eleven in his arms with pneumonia after being stupid enough to get caught in the rapids un the dead of winter wanting a good photograph of a rare fish, then I’m seventeen, crying over a redheaded girl who I thought I’d managed to murder. And now here I am, at twenty-two years old in his grasp once again, having made the greatest mistake of my life.
Suddenly I feel another set of arms wrap around the both of us.
“Group hug!” a familiar voice sings.
Leave it to Xander to make me crack a half smile in the darkest moments I’ve ever experienced. After a while I pull away and sigh.
“Do you think she’ll ever forgive me?” I ask, pulling away.
“Honestly?” Xander asks.
I nod
“No,” he says. I wish I could see that little glimmer of a lie in his eyes, but I can’t. And it kills me.
“Think about it like this,” he sighs, “would you forgive Eve for what she did?”
“This is not the same thing,” I reply coldly.
“Eve cheated your trust, she betrayed you,” he explains gently, “that’s exactly how she feels.”
Dread fills my every pore as I murmur lifelessly, “I’m as bad as Eve.”
“No wait,” he says, looking guilty and panicked all at the same time, “that’s not what I meant!”
“I know,” I reassure him so some of his guilt subsides, “but it’s true and now I’ve just realised.”
“Look Gray, you aren’t Eve. You’re never going to be Eve, but think of how you felt then. That’s how y/n feels,” Nash soothes, “she’s not going to just forgive you, that’s not how it works.”
“You just broke her heart Gray,” Xander adds, careful to keep his tone as light as a feather, “for a girl you just met.”
“Why am I horrible person? Why do I always find a way to mess to something good?” I groan, smacking my head on the wall behind me. There’s an audible thump as pain spreads through the back of my skull. I wonder if I can concuss myself to forget all of this, but I don’t attempt the idea.
“You don’t-“
“No I do,” I say firmly, cutting him off, “I’m not meant for love, to love or to be loved, I’m not built for it. I’m not a good enough person for it. I’m never going to find my Libby or my Max or my Avery.“
“Grayson-“ Nash begins.
“Emily knew it and now so does y/n,” I snap.
My brothers still at her name, not moving a muscle. I never bring up Emily.
“Listen to me,” Nash says sharply, getting my attention, “you are meant to be loved. You are meant to love. I love you, Xander loves you, Jameson loves you and y/n loved you too…”
The change of tense makes my soul ache.
“…but this time around, you made a mistake, a costly mistake. But that doesn’t mean you don’t deserve love.”
I nod numbly, robotically.
“What can I do to make it up to her?” I ask, my voice beginning to tremble, “to show her I’m sorry? Something there has to be something.”
Nash gives me a grim look and Xander’s face remains blank, they’re the only answers I need. My head sinks into my hands. The door reopens and I look back up. Jameson has returned.
He meets my eyes, “Avery’s with her.”
Blood surges through my heart and I can almost smile. He checked on her. For me.
“Is she okay?” I ask quickly.
Jameson looks at me and for a split second I almost see the ghost concern is his eyes. He shakes his head softly, “no, but she will be,” he replies, it’s an attempt to comfort me and I am grateful.
“Thank you,” I mumble.
“I’m not apologising for what I said, because I still stand by it and you won’t change my mind,” Jameson says, “but I am sorry for being so angry about it.”
“You were right,” I whisper, “you were right about me. I never deserved her, so was nothing but an angel to me and I just turned around and threw it all away. I abused the luxury I had, I stabbed her in the back and then gifted another with the knife, I’m a horrible person.”
“What you did was wrong, but that’s doesn’t make you a horrible person,” he sighs, “you need time Gray, this is going to take a lot of healing. On both sides.”
“I don’t deserve to heal, I deserve to be in pain,” I murmur, the dullness in my tone echos around the empty walls.
“Oh no, we’re not going back to emo Grayson,” Xander says quickly, shaking his head.
“I agree with Xander on this one,” Nash nods, readjusting his cowboy hat.
“I don’t want to hear you blasting my chemical romance at three a.m and then denying it later again, you came out of that phase we’re not going back there,” Jameson tells me.
I bark out a laugh that thaws my icy chest. I then bite the inside of my cheek.
“I can’t fix this, can I?” I say, looking at the ground,
Nash shakes his head softly.
“But that doesn’t mean you can’t be fixed,” Xander says.
“You’ll get through this Gray,” Jamie agrees, “I know it.”
The room grows still.
“Can we drink that whiskey now?” I ask, to cut through the silence. I feel like getting drunk, I feel like I need some relief.
“Big brother,” Xander nods at Nash handing him the bottle.
“Little brother,” he tips his cowboy hat in reply before taking the bottle into his hands and cracking it open.
“Let me pour these things properly,” Nash grins, “Jamie, come help.”
“Wait me too!” Xander jumps up,
“Stay with Gray,” he shakes his head.
“I don’t need to be babysat,” I grumble, annoyance written all over my face.
“I want to watch them pour whiskey properly,” Xander explains, “so I can impress Max.”
My eyebrows fly to my forehead, “Max drinks?”
“No I want to impress her though,” he grins.
‘You’re an odd human,” I almost laugh, tilting my head to the side.
“Why ta very much!” he says, almost skipping away.
Once I know they’re all gone, I lean back on the wall, my heart feeling a tiny bit less heavy. The pain isn’t gone. I think I’ve just gone numb. I feel hollow, empty, nothingness. Guilt is still gnawing at my insides but slower. A satifying clink against the fragile rim of the glass takes me out of my own head for a split second. There are hushed voices from the kitchen, I notice. I walk over to the door that lay ajar, I lean in to listen.
“We need to tell him,” it sounds like Jameson.
“Not now,” the accent indicates Nash.
“Then when?” Xander’s voice asks, “how long can we prolong it.”
“I can hear you,” I tell them, raising my voice a little.
They turn to face me, awkwardly remaining silent. The expressions on their faces don’t offer me comfort.
“Whatever it is, spit it out,” I say, “it’s not like tonight could get any worse.”
They share a look. Apparently it can. I feel sick to my stomach.
I can barely breathe, “who died?”
“No one has died,” Xander says quickly, “yet.”
“What?” I say, my tone deadly,
Nash glares at him, then turns back to me. There’s sorrow laced delicately, deep within his hazel irises.
“Gray,” he says gently, “Gray we hate to do this but…”
“What? What is it?” I ask urgently.
“Gigi’s missing.”
The words shock me to my core. I feel my throat begin the close up as panic returns with a smirk and triumphant greeting. My whole world has collapsed in less than 24 hours.
***
YOUR POV
I don’t hate him. Call me naive or call me stupid. But I don’t. I don’t think I ever could. The kind of love I have for him is unconditional, irrevocable. Time can’t heal a wound this deep and although it is still fresh now, I can tell. But if he were to say sorry I think I would forgive him every time. And if he asked me back I’d fall into his arms into an instant. And I hate myself for it, it’s stupid and it’s a little cruel. How easily I would take him back after what he did. I know I shouldn’t but something inside of me is drawn to him. Like an invisible magnet has been planted in our hearts. I wish I didn’t love so hard, fall so deeply, maybe I wouldn’t get hurt so badly. But it’s in my nature, it’s who I am. I wonder if he knows how much pain I’m in, the rippling agony that rolls across my chest relentlessly with no hint as to when it will cease. I’m tired of being the second choice but unfortunately I wouldn’t mind being his. And I know it’s completely stupid of me to think that way, completely wrong but love makes you do stupid things so they say. I sit on the beach, by the sea in a state of numbness. Silent tears roll down my tears as the waves lap my feet. Deja vu washes over me and the memories of Grayson and I the night of the game flash through my mind.
I grip his hand and run with him as he guides me the just beyond the shore. He sits down swiftly on the sand and pulls me down to sit between his legs. I lean my back onto his chest and let him nuzzle his face into my collarbone.
“I love you,” he whispers, kissing my neck, “only you.”
Only me, huh? Only me…
The waves crash against the rocks, hurtling a salty spray towards me. I hear footsteps and turn around. Avery stands there, a mournful expression over her delicate face. She knows. I stumble towards her and collapse into her arms in a fit of uncontrollable sobs now and she holds me. Her touch is gentle and warm but it’s nothing compared to his. I realise he might never hold me in his arms again and I cry even harder.
***
I don’t hold Lyra accountable. She is not to blame. Some girls in my position might dream about different ways to brutally murder her but I can only ask what comfort would it bring me? My feelings are already dead, what good is more pain doing?
There was a choice that Grayson Hawthorne was given: his dancer or his angel. He chose his dancer and I hope he’s happy. Because angels have wings and we rise up stronger.
idk guys I think I wrote Grayson’s POV really awfully to be honest… also I feel like the 911 meet up was not like their normal ones where they try and like do something (e.g drink or dare) and then talk about the pain but that’s bc Grayson was in such a mess and then they had to drop the bomb that Gigi was missing. so anywayyyss…
I am sorry this took so long and I hope it lived up to any expectation you wanted it too (sorry if it didn’t) and I hope you enjoyed 🤍🤍 thanks for reading as always
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bunnivez · 3 months ago
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Hello Hello! May I asked a Alpha Garofano with a breeding kink? Garofano is so MILF, so why not let's give her that😏
(BTW can I be ✨ anon)
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Comment: I’ve been wanting to write this for a while and the moment has come… Honestly I am surprised I haven’t seen people write this yet, or maybe they have and I simply haven’t noticed, who knows. Never thought I’d want to see more of Garofano but here I am.
જ⁀➴ … Event .. This event is omegaverse themed
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Sweet, gentle, but goodness was it possessive. A perfect description of how good your Alpha fucks you. Her cock felt so perfect inside you, stretching you so good, each thrust was deep but gentle— making you feel every inch of her.
“Oh my sweet baby…” You heard Garofano groan. Her body was sweaty, she was exhausted; thats true, but there was no way she was stopping. The sight of your sweet, fucked out form underneath her is such a pretty sight. So pretty moaning for her, belly bulging slightly from how much she has filled you with her warm seed; your womb is full but that doesn’t mean she’ll stop.
“G-garofano… S-so full..” You managed to say. It was hard to form any words with your current state, it just made you look cuter in your alpha’s eyes. “Ssssh, sweet thing.. I know you can take it, you can— can’t you? Ngh… Pretty girls take their mommy’s cum, and your my pretty girl right?”
She ripped another moan from you. Goodness you couldn’t even move your legs, or feel them. All you could feel was her inside of you, tip hitting that sweet spot repeatedly with every thrust making you whimper.
Suddenly you wrapped your lips around her hard nipple causing her to moan, thrusting into you at a slightly faster pace. “Ah~!”
Your muffled moans and the sound of skin slapping filled the room along with Garofano’s moans. Her pace started to get rougher, but she still held onto you caringly as you let go of her nipple with a soft ‘pop’.
Your pussy was creating more slick as your alpha’s scent got stronger, it only made your heat worse, it made you needy for more and Garofano knew that. She couldn’t help but let out another moan when she felt your gummy walls squeeze around her tighter, urging for her release, urging for her seed.
“Oh darling~.. you feel amazing, you’re so beautiful, so precious. Ah~! Oh i’m going to breed this pretty pussy, you’ll give me babies right? Ohhh~ yes you will.” She grunted, her thrusts picking up pace. She was so close to cumming and so were you; you wrapped your legs around her waist to push her deeper inside you as much as possible.
A few more thrusts, that’s all it took for her to finally fill you up again. Your womb felt like it was about to burst— you are surprised with how she managed to fit some inside you in the first place.
You both simply laid there, catching your breath, your lover still balls deep inside you, her breasts pressed against yours. Despite how exhausted you both were, Garofano wasn’t done with you yet; and she won’t be done until her cum leaks from out of your pussy, until there is no more room in your womb, until she is certain you have been well bred and most likely to end up carrying her offspring.
This time however, you were ass up while your face was buried on the sheets. Oh goodness how you could feel her cock inside you better in this position, deeper, it was overwhelming even. Every small thrust ripped out a loud moan from you, your pussy was so sensitive to a point where everything felt too much, even a small touch.
“Oh my sweet girl… ah.. So pretty, so beautiful taking all of me. You will turn me into a mommy right? Yes, yes my pretty baby will.” She breathy moans and your loud ones filled the room, one of her hands was placed on your hip, while the other on your tummy, feeling the bulge move inside you before pressing it lightly which you cried in response.
Garofano grabbed you my the chin to pull you into a sweet passionate kiss to which you returned, your brain all fuzzy and blank.
Oh how she loves you, her sweet baby, mommy’s good girl.
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𝐁𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐳 — Do not copy, plagiarize, or repost any of my work without permission, and most of all— don’t claim my work as yours!
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gurugirl · 11 months ago
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Can We Start Over | Ch. 5 The Coincidence
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Series Summary: From the first day you and Harry meet, your relationship is beyond complicated. A one night stand leads to hurt feelings and then a job opportunity that you simply can't pass up is offered. But can you handle working for a man like him? rich!harry x plus size!reader | enemies to lovers
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This is a 5 part series commissioned by @justfattiethings (thank you hon!).
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Chapter 5. Summary: Things have changed for you and Harry but when you see him at a meeting, you are taken by surprise. It feels like destiny. Maybe this time things will work out for you two.
A/N: This is the final part to this series! Thank you everyone who stuck with the story and gave it a shot! Appreciate all the love!
Word Count: 12.7k
Warning: 18+ only, angst, smut, fluff
Can We Start Over? masterlist
Mr. Allen was on the phone again. He’d called you into his office but the moment you stepped in he got a call and told you to sit and wait. That it would only be a minute.
And it was only a minute. But then he got another call and now it was 23 minutes later while he was still yammering about some person who was just the worst.
You were used to it, though. Mr. Allen was retired so nothing was a rush for him anymore. Which also meant he held other people up. But waiting for your boss was the least of your worries.
His wife and her ever-changing personality was your biggest concern. She was, to put it mildly, a monster. And to make matters worse, she ran the whole household so you were often seeking her out for things. Mrs. Allen also handled her husband’s schedule and if he was running behind guess who got the blame. That’s right. You did. Every time.
And it was the same thing over and over again. You started your day trying to keep Mr. Allen up to task, failed, got reprimanded and degraded by a nasty human, held back tears and then took a long drive with loud music to clear your head with a quick stop for dinner, probably at a drive-through.
Needless to say, you were already planning on quitting. You’d gotten really lucky with Alfred. And even working with Harry hadn’t been as bad as it was working for Mrs. Allen and her husband. But you tried not to think about Harry if you could help it.
By the time Mr. Allen got off the phone he was running late for his physical therapy appointment. You got him moving along quickly and sent him on his way but not before Mrs. Allen started poking around and making comments under her breath.
“What was that?” You turned to look behind yourself at the wicked witch as she stood near the edge of the foyer.
“He’s late again.” She crossed her arms over her chest.
“That is correct.”
She rolled her eyes, “What’s the point of having a personal assistant who can’t even keep the boss on schedule?”
You smiled, holding back your true thoughts, “Well, being as my job description doesn’t entail using physical force on the boss, which is what it would take to get Mr. Allen to keep on time for anything, I’m certain you’ll find that once again, this isn’t my responsibility.”
“Lazy,” she spoke under her breath.
You tilted your head and squinted your eyes at her, “That’s the last thing I am. Now, if you don’t mind, my workday is over. Have a good evening.”
You walked past her to go into your room to pack up your laptop and leave. You’d stay at your own place that night. You hated staying at the Allen’s house. Not only was the room they’d given you a tiny spec of a thing with no windows, no closet, and not even a single rug to cover the cold tile floors but being anywhere near Mrs. Allen made your skin crawl.
“I don’t know why we bother with the room for you,” she was standing in the doorway when you turned around.
“You really didn’t bother much with the room in the first place. That’s why I don’t stay here. My house has a better bed with a big window looking into my backyard. I just feel better in my own bed at night.”
You walked past her and held your breath so as not to inhale her disgusting, pungent perfume. You used to like the scent she wore. But now you loathed it. Whenever you smelled it, even on another woman, it made you queasy. You very much did not like Mrs. Allen.
You turned up the volume on your car radio the moment your front tires hit the road. You always looked forward to going home after work. This day wasn’t as bad as you’d had before and tomorrow you’d do it all over again.
And instead of stopping at a drive-through for fast food, you decided you’d stop at the grocery store and pick up ingredients to actually make something fresh.
Typically you didn’t cook. You didn’t have time for it. Picking up groceries would put you home at almost 8 pm. And then you still needed to cook so you wouldn’t be eating until close to 9 and then you could finally relax with a glass of wine and a good book or something trashy on television. Which was why drive-throughs were your go-to dinner plans. It meant you were home by 7:30 and dinner was already cooked. Not the best use of money and certainly not the healthiest way to live but you wouldn’t be doing it much longer.
You had a meeting to attend with Mr. and Mrs. Allen the following week that piqued your interest. It was for a piece of art that they’d been looking for. And someone found it for them. From an art dealer who was not too far away. You didn’t know for sure but you had a feeling. And you wanted to find out if that feeling was right.
Maybe you were a masochist and just wanted to pour salt onto the wound of your split open heart one more time. Or maybe you did have some hope that it was Harry and that maybe you could try and receive his feelings for you once and for all.
But it’d been just over 9 months since you’d seen him and you were sure he’d moved on by now. There would be no reason for him to still be pining over you the way you were over him. And what were the chances that it was him in the first place? You didn’t know but you needed to find out.
Yeah. You regretted what you’d done. Pushing him away like that. But once you’d done it, it felt like it was too late to go back. Maybe it was your pride. Or that little voice in the back of your head that told you men always leave and they always lie. That anyone that might love you would probably just disappoint you in the end.
But now you were in therapy and talking to someone opened your eyes to your self-sabotaging ways. You had been certain that the way you felt couldn’t be helped. That you were a prisoner to your trauma and all the hurt and that it was for the best. You’d been wrong, though. You could help the way you processed feelings and the way you responded when things got hard. You didn’t have to push away the notion that a man could love you or keep running away from your problems.
After picking up ingredients to make a nice little dinner for yourself you arrived at your cute house.
You loved the place. Loved the neighborhood. You found it a few weeks after you told Harry to leave your apartment. It wasn’t that far from your old place but you felt like it was good enough for a new start. At the time, you were ready to take the plunge. To move on. It was just a rental but it felt like your own place.
Though, not long after moving in you started feeling like getting rid of every trace of Harry had been a bad idea. You missed him. However, you didn’t recognize how you were feeling for him until you began therapy. The more you spoke honestly about everything and without any judgment, you began to peel off layers of yourself that you had unconsciously piled on to protect yourself. But that only wound up making things worse.
And one night, almost six months since you’d seen him, you decided to drive past his big, gated home. You still had the fob to his entry but of course, you wouldn’t use it. You only wanted to just drive past. To your surprise, there was a For Sale sign stuck in the grass in front of the gate.
You parked across from the house and tried to see if there was anything that indicated he’d actually moved out but seeing inside was impossible. You could see the top level of the house and that was really it.
The sinking feeling in your chest that you’d probably never see him again started to settle over you slowly. You’d moved away and blocked him from everything and then deleted his contact and now he was no longer living in the only place you knew where he might be. He was gone.
But then when you helped set up the meeting with the art dealer there was the smallest tinge of hope there. You felt like this might be your last chance. You had just been about to quit when Mrs. Allen gave you the number to an assistant of a dealer who had access to a painting they wanted. You never learned the name of the art dealer, only of the assistant who worked for them.
So you’d stick it out until after the meeting and then you’d give up your hope for ever seeing Harry again if it wasn’t him. And you’d also quit your job once and for all.
Of course, it’s not him. Don’t get your hopes up.
You had to remind yourself of that over and over again. The chances were slim that you would actually be seeing Harry.
Either way, you were looking forward to that meeting. Even if it wasn’t Harry, you’d be free of Mr. and Mrs. Allen once and for all after you quit.
But the days dragged on slowly. The only thing that was good about the time that led up to the meeting was the little secret that you were quitting. It was something you were excited about.
The morning of the meeting you woke up well before your alarm went off. You’d been unable to fall back asleep as you remembered the last time you and Harry slept together. The words he spoke to you that night haunted you every day since, “Want to make you feel so good. Want to make you smile, Y/n. Want to make you happy.”
You sighed. You hoped it was him at the meeting. You hoped there was still some way to salvage what you’d done. Hoped there was still something there. If it was him, that is.
Your entire morning routine had turned into a spa event. You turned on your coffee pot and then got into the shower, getting yourself ready for the possibility of anything and everything. You had selected your outfit days prior and put on a full face of makeup. You were going to look your absolute best.
And no matter what the outcome of the meeting was, today was a good day. Because at the end of it, you’d be a free woman. You’d never again step foot in the Allen house. You took all of your belongings from the spec of a bedroom over a few days so no one would notice. You rarely stayed over anyway so it wasn’t like you needed to keep much there in the first place.
You had a taxi take you to the Allen’s on that day. Because your plan was to quit the moment the painting was purchased and you weren’t going to be going back to their house with them after the meeting just to get your car. You’d get a taxi home. It was quite dramatic but you couldn’t wait to quit. Couldn’t wait to tell Mrs. Allen you were done and then walk off. Only a few more hours.
When you arrived at the Allen’s your first stop was the kitchen to make Mr. Allen’s coffee (skim milk and stevia) and Mrs. Allen’s chai green tea with raw honey. This was always the best part of your day. Things were usually quiet, Mrs. Allen wasn’t raging just yet, and the morning light that came into their gorgeous kitchen felt peaceful. While the coffee was perking you brought Mrs. Allen her tea drink where you knew you’d find her and placed it down on its coaster next to her. As usual, she did not acknowledge your existence or even say thank you.
Mr. Allen was always cordial, however.
“Morning Mr. Allen. Here’s your coffee.”
“Thank you, Y/n. Have you seen my wife this morning?”
You smiled and stood next to his desk, “I just gave her some tea. Why?”
“I think she wanted to make sure we had wire information set up to pay for the painting today. She’s very set on making the purchase. Can you double-check we have everything we need?”
“I’m certain we have everything we need but I’ll definitely do a quick check.”
As you suspected, everything was ready to go. When you confirmed as much you went to find Mrs. Allen to tell her.
“Mr. Allen told me you wanted to make sure the wire instructions were ready and I just wanted to let you know that we’ve got everything we need and it’s all ready to go for when it comes time to pay.”
“Good. Now,” she turned to look at you, “this is a meeting we cannot be late for so I’d appreciate it if you could have everything ready for us so there are no delays. I don’t want any excuses.”
You nodded, stifling the small laugh before it could make it out of your mouth, “Of course, Mrs. Allen.”
But as always, Mr. Allen was dawdling. You did remind him of the meeting but he assured you he was going to be on time. He wasn’t. You weren’t surprised.
When it was time to leave he was still in his office in his slippers on his third cup of coffee talking to his brother about sports.
“I told you this is a meeting we cannot be late for. This is unacceptable!” Mrs. Allen was red in the face as she barked at you. Somehow, she always seemed shocked when her husband held things up. You didn’t know how it was possible that she was so surprised.
You blinked your eyes and sighed, “He doesn’t need to be at the meeting with us. I say we just go. He’ll be fine here by himself.”
She nodded and mumbled under her breath about your incompetence, “Tell him we’re leaving without him. I’m going to get the driver to pull the car around.”
You poked your head into the office and waved at Mr. Allen and he pulled the phone from his ear to look at you with his brows raised. As if he didn’t know what was going on.
“We’re going to leave now for the painting. You can stay behind. No need for you to be there. Okay?”
He smiled at you and nodded before getting back to his call. You knew he didn’t care. This painting wasn’t for him. It was for Mrs. Allen. It was something she’d been wanting. She’d just hang it up alongside the rest of her collection of exotic animal paintings and artwork.
The car ride was silent. Which you preferred. You tried not speaking to Mrs. Allen when you could help it. Luckily she wasn’t interested in having a conversation with you.
And 30 minutes later when you arrived, your mind was swirling with thoughts of what could happen and what probably wouldn’t.
Your nerves were all over the place. If you were about to walk into a room with Harry Styles, being nervous was warranted. You hadn’t seen his handsome face in so long and wanted so badly for it to be him.
It was unlikely. At least that’s what you kept telling yourself. No reason to get your hopes up.
You and Mrs. Allen got out of the car once the driver had let you both out at the front.
It was a public gallery so everyone could just walk in to admire the art. You noticed there were people inside looking at the sculptures and paintings as you followed behind Mrs. Allen toward the desk at the side of the room where a young woman sat.
“Hi. I’m Delia Allen here for a meeting to view the Ghaui piece.”
The young woman smiled widely, “Yes. Of course! Just follow me. We have it moved into a special viewing room just for you.”
If there was ever a moment in your life where you thought that one small step toward a physical room could forever change your life, it was this. What if he was there? What if he wasn’t?
The gallery wasn’t a large space but there were temporary walls placed around the room to act as dividers and a spot for more art to hang. You wove around the walls and into a hallway where the young woman stepped into a room with Mrs. Allen just behind her. You paused for a moment before stepping inside. This was it. It either was or it wasn’t.
Placing your hand on the frame of the door and taking a deep breath you breached the space to enter the viewing room and found that there was no one else inside. It was the painting that Mrs. Allen had been so keen on buying, hung up with lights aimed at it, a table and chairs.
You didn’t know what to expect but it wasn’t this. You imagined someone would be inside the room waiting for you.
“The dealer will be right in. He’s finishing up something with someone else. Five minutes tops.”
The painting was of elephants in an African wildlife scene. It wasn’t your taste but you had to respect Mrs. Allen for her interests. If there was anything about her you could say you liked, it was her love of animals and how much support she’d given African wildlife sanctuaries. She’d also gone on many safaris (without Mr. Allen you learned) and helped fund conservation parks that helped employ people and protect the land and animals. Honestly, when you found out this was her thing you felt like you were looking at a different woman.
She was still a bitch, though.
“I thought this meeting was set up and ready to go, Y/n,” she turned to look at you. As if somehow the dealer running late was your fault.
“It is set and ready. The girl said the dealer would be right in. We just need to wait a couple of minutes.”
You didn’t look at her face as you responded. You were done looking at her face. After this meeting, you’d never have to look at it again.
“Sergi could’ve come if I knew this was going to happen.”
You rolled your eyes, back facing her as you looked over the lines and the paint on the canvas. It was a well-done piece of art.
When the door opened only a moment later you felt your heart stop for a split second, a chill ran down your face, over your shoulders, and through your spine as you slowly turned around when Mrs. Allen spoke, “Finally.”
Your vision grew spotty, like tiny particles floating around and mixing up the scene before you. Fuzzy like a grey screen on a television. You blinked your eyes to clear your sight as you looked at him for the first time in over 9 months. It was him.
And his reaction to you appeared much the same, with him pausing in the doorway, mouth agape, eyes wide.
“Hello? Are you the dealer?” Mrs. Allen was great at ruining a moment.
Harry’s eyes blinked as he shook his head and finally peeled his sight from you to look at the other woman in the room. He cleared his throat, closing the door behind himself, and stepped forward to Mrs. Allen with his hand out, “Yes. I’m the dealer. Harry Styles,” he shook her hand and then shot his eyes back to you, taking in your outfit quickly before moving toward you, his hand outstretched in silence.
You hadn’t moved from your spot next to the painting. You hadn’t closed your mouth or peeped a single word because you couldn’t. And even though you had a feeling that it was him before the meeting ever took place, the surprise and shock you felt was overwhelming.
It was really him. It was Harry. And you couldn’t believe it was him.
You placed your hand in his to shake and the moment was eternity. Your eyes pinned together, palms warm to the touch, searching gazes, and a million little thoughts dancing around your heads. It was real. He was real. You were real. The moment was real.
But of course, as Mrs. Allen tended to do she interrupted the odd reunion and began speaking, “Please go over the details with me. I think I’d like to know a little more and then we can talk price.”
Harry’s adam’s apple bobbed as he released your hand and straightened his posture and he handed a folder to Mrs. Allen and began to go over everything she might want to know.
Your heart was racing and you were unable to listen to anything he said regarding the painting. It all sounded like gibberish to you but you could hear his smooth deep voice as he spoke, and the occasional glance in your direction had your skin sparking in delight.
“Earth to Y/n,” Mrs. Allen waved her hand in front of your face and you slowly drifted from your reverie back to reality and looked at her.
“Jesus, it’s like herding cats with you,” she pointed, “Let’s get this part ready. Open your laptop.”
You reached into your bag and pulled out your laptop, placing it on the table so you could begin the wire payment. You looked from Mrs. Allen to Harry and then back to your screen as the bank sight loaded.
Of course, you had to log in and the internet connection wasn’t as fast as you’d have liked so Mrs. Allen let out an annoyed sigh.
“Always like this with her,” she looked at Harry with her arms crossed, “Slow. Lazy–“
“Are you serious?” Harry sounded perturbed. Aghast.
You looked from him to Mrs. Allen and the look on his face matched the sound of his voice as he looked at her with disdain.
“Of course I am. You don’t know her so you have no idea what–“
“I do actually know her,” he glanced at you softening his gaze. “Don’t speak about her that way or the deal is off.”
You blinked and smiled gently as you opened up the bank wire screen.
“What? You can’t treat me like this. I’m a paying client. I will walk out of here without this painting if you dare–“
“Then leave.” He looked at her with his brows raised in a dare.
She huffed and clutched her purse, “Fine. Just… do the deal, Y/n. I’ll be right back. I need to use the restroom and get some air. When I return I want this to be over with.”
She walked out of the room and slammed the door rudely and Harry stepped in front of the computer as you looked up at him, “Y/n. I can’t believe it’s you. Are you working for her?”
You stood up straight and nodded, “Yeah. It’s a disaster. I’m quitting as soon as this is over. It’s been my plan for a month.”
He smiled, “You’re quitting? Now?”
You nodded again, “Yes. As soon as this deal is complete I’m done.”
“Can I see you? Like, after this? Dinner maybe?”
You sputtered a tiny laugh. It was like music to your ears, “Okay. Why not?”
Harry grinned widely and pointed at the computer, “Let’s get this over with then. Push that payment through and let’s get out of here.”
There it was again, the blurred vision, grey and colored specs floating around you as if you were in the grey screen of a TV. You couldn’t believe it. Perhaps it was only a dream. Perhaps you were about to wake up and it was all going to have been just a wild dream that you’d never recover from.
You called the bank with a smile on your face to begin the wire transfer. Everything was set as you entered the details into the account on your laptop and spoke with the representative.
But of course, there was one thing holding the whole thing up. Mrs. Allen had to be there to verbally give the go-ahead to the man on the phone. You were not authorized.
So when she came back to the room and the payment wasn’t yet completed she was furious, “How can you mess up the simplest things, Y/n?”
“All you need to do is tell the man this wire transfer from your bank to the owner’s is authorized. You’re holding this up. Not her,” Harry spoke.
She pulled the cell phone from you with a sigh and spoke into the receiver as you smiled at Harry.
“There. It’s done.” She handed the phone to you and the transaction was finalized. Emails went out to all the parties involved in the sale with the receipt and you closed your laptop.
“Good. Now, have someone wrap this so I can bring it back without getting scratched.”
Harry nodded, “I’ll have Laira get someone for you and they’ll bring it to your car.”
Mrs. Allen looked at you and snapped her fingers, “You can go wait in the car for me. No need to have you standing around and gawking like an idiot.”
You stuffed your laptop into your bag and looked at Mrs. Allen, “Delia?” You made it a point to call her by her first name, which you knew she hated, “I quit. Working for you has been hell. You’ll go home without me as I’ve already made other arrangements. Tell Mr. Allen it was lovely to work for him. I’ll send him an email explaining why I quit tomorrow. Also, the agency won’t work with you again after I share details and proof of the way you treated me.”
Her mouth dropped open and the look of surprise on her face was quite hilarious as you pushed passed her with Harry following behind you.
You felt exhilarated and your heart was pumping blood through your body and your limbs rapidly as you smiled and made your way to the front of the gallery.
Harry kept in step with you as he waved at the girl at the desk, “Please help Mrs. Allen get the painting wrapped and put into her car. I’m done for the day. Call me if you need anything.”
You felt the warm air hit your cheeks when you stepped outside into the sun with Harry behind you.
“Y/n, I’m still kind of in disbelief that you’re here. I must be dreaming,” he turned toward you with a wide grin.
“I feel the same way. Like I’m just going to wake up and it’s all been a dream.”
“Pinch me,” he put his arm out and pushed his shirt sleeve up to his forearm, displaying the tattoos on his skin.
You laughed and put your thumb and pointer over his skin and gave him a good pinch and he let out a deep breath, “Do it again.”
You couldn’t stop the small chuckle that fell from your lips as you pinched him again and he grabbed the tops of your arms tightly, “Y/n I’ve missed you so much. I’ve wanted to talk to you so many times. I have so much to tell you.”
“Me too, Harry. There’s so much to say.”
He led you to his car and you both got inside. It felt so surreal to be climbing into Harry’s car with him, “Where would like to go eat?” He looked at you from the driver’s seat as he started up his car.
You shook your head, “I don’t know. Don’t care really.”
He nodded, “Yeah I don’t care either. Just as long as I get to go there with you. Okay, we’ll go to this spot I found some months ago. They have great crab cakes.”
When he pulled out to the street you looked at him, “New car then?”
He nodded, “Yeah. The lease came up on the other one and figured something different would be nice. I’ve had this for a few months.”
“And did you move?”
He licked his lips and glanced at you, “Yeah. Not long after you left. A lot has happened since you’ve been gone. I… did a lot of thinking about what I want in life and how I want to live it. The place was too big. Not sustainable for me any longer. Too expensive.”
“Really? That’s surprising.”
He breathed out through his nose as he nodded, “I stopped dealing with stolen items. It was dumb of me to get involved in all that in the first place. I never started off being an art dealer with the idea that I would be wealthy. It began because I genuinely love the art world and discovering new pieces. I lost that somewhere along the way and you leaving like you did remind me of what was important in life. Money is not all there is.”
You were surprised to hear this. It made you wonder what else had changed.
The restaurant was a small, hip-looking spot. You had both arrived before the dinner crowd, it was still a bit early for dinner, but to you, it didn’t matter. You were with Harry again and even though you weren’t quite sure what to expect things were going better than you imagined.
You and Harry were seated at a small round table for two by a big window looking out over the parking lot. It wasn’t fancy but it felt amazing to get face to face with him after all that time.
“Y/n, I hope you don’t mind me saying, but you look incredible. I know I said it already but I really missed you. I hope you and I can keep in touch after this. If that’s something you wanted. It would mean so much to me to be able to see you again.”
You picked at the corner of the laminated menu that had been placed on the table in front of you and looked up at him, “Harry, I missed you a lot too. I regretted the way I ended things. Moving away and blocking you. I thought it was the right thing to do. I deleted every part of you from my life and by the time I realized it was a mistake I didn’t have your contacts anymore,” you shook your head as you looked into his eyes, “I’m sorry I did it that way. I’m sorry for walking away from you.”
Harry reached across the table and put his hand over yours, “I’m glad you did. Y/n, I don’t know if I would have had the kind of self-reflection and epiphany I did if you’d stayed. But you leaving like that made me rethink everything I thought was important. Made me realize that dealing in the black market and jet-setting all over the world to do something that goes against my very core… I hated it. I hated you leaving but it opened my eyes.”
“So you really don’t do any of that anymore?”
He shook his head, “No. Now I bounce around from gallery to gallery to view pieces and check the legitimacy, the provenance. I work for myself still but now I’m not making as much money. Which is fine!” He laughed, dimples digging into his cheeks, “It’s better this way. I sleep better knowing I’m doing things right now.”
“Where do you live now?”
“Like twenty minutes from here. Bought a regular-sized house with a garage and an ugly entryway,” he grinned, “But I love it. I love it because it makes me feel happy. It’s not so much to maintain. Had to let go of all the staff I had but other than that, I haven’t missed the income as much as I thought I would.”
You were impressed with him. You never imagined he’d stop dealing in illegal items because you knew the money was so good.
The waiter stood at your table and you both told him what you’d like to drink. A sparkling water with lemon for you, and a hot black tea for him.
“So you were working for that woman. She’s awful. How long did you stay with her?”
You laughed and shook your head, “I worked for the Allens for just over seven months. Hated every minute of it. She only got worse as time went on. I thought once she got used to me she’d lighten up be she was truly evil. Would just talk down to me and blame me for everything that went wrong.”
“Why did you stay there for so long?”
“At first I stayed hoping it would get better. You know you kind of get into a groove and can look past bullshit and then everyone starts to get used to one another. But that never happened. I tried to stick it out. But then of course I needed the money too. Well, on some level. The security of having a job is nice and the rent at my new house is a lot more than what I paid at my apartment. Figured I’d wait for the right moment. Then about a month ago I found out that Delia wanted to buy this piece of art she’d been wanting and she was going to go through a dealer and I was just about to quit. I really was but,” you shrugged and smiled as you looked down at the menu, “Though it would be funny if maybe you were the dealer,” you brought your eyes back up to him.
He squinted, his brows pulling in as he looked at you, “You continued working for them when you thought maybe I was going to be the dealer on the sale? So you could see me?”
You nodded and smiled, “I mean. Sort of. I really didn’t think it was going to be you but I figured it wouldn’t hurt to just see. So I stuck it out. My plan was to quit the moment the deal was over. That’s why I was saying that at the gallery. It was like, one last thing, just to see if it was you and then I was done working for them.”
Harry laughed and pulled his lips into his mouth, shaking his head in amazement, “I can’t believe you wanted to see me. I was certain you were done and wanted nothing to do with me. I did go back to your apartment one day, maybe like two months later. But you’d already moved out. And you never responded to any of my texts or calls. Figured that was that. What made you want to see me?”
You tried not to feel bad how you ended things with him but it was hard not to, “I really did like you. It was just hard for me to admit how much. And then Brandy, my best friend, talked me into going to therapy. And honestly? Just talking about how I process things and my emotions with someone else helped me a ton. Helped me see how I self-sabotage. Anything that might make me happy, specifically romance, was a big block for me. I didn’t even realize it consciously. I think I knew I pushed people away when I didn’t need to. And I realized I did that with you.”
Harry nodded as he listened and the waiter placed your drinks down on the table before taking your orders for food.
It felt like you had so much to tell him and you could see Harry felt the same with everything he admitted to you. You loved listening to him and watching him as he spoke or the way he gazed at you as you recounted the last 9 months to him.
While so much did happen in those 9 months, you felt comfortable sitting at that small table talking to Harry about it all. Everything felt so familiar and nice with him. It felt like you were both exactly on the same page and this time around maybe you could really have something special with him. If he wanted the same thing as you.
“So you missed me? What did you miss about me?” Harry smirked at you as he took a scoop of the dessert you were both sharing.
“Hmm… I think I liked it when you were nice to me and vulnerable with me. Our late-night kitchen chats. How you took up for me with that one lady. And even today you did it again with Mrs. Allen. I think there were times when I hated you but mostly I liked you. And those things I missed.”
His smirk didn’t fall from his lips and it looked like he was holding back what he wanted to say.
“What? What’s that look?” You pointed your fork at him.
Harry laughed and looked down at the table before putting his eyes back on yours, “You didn’t miss… like my body or something?”
You laughed and grinned at him, “Oh my god, Harry,” you rolled your eyes and shook your head.
“I mean you have to admit, Y/n, we are very good together. Aren’t we? Like… just fit so well me and you.”
You inhaled and let your eyes trail over his features as you tried to keep the grin off your face.
“You’re insane.” You licked your lips.
“No, I’m not. You know it’s true. Tell me you’ve had better with anyone else and I’ll tell you you’re lying. You missed me but you also missed all those dirty little things I did to you.”
“You’re way too confident and cocky still,” you laughed.
“Am I?” His smile was something that always got you. The grin, the dimples, the crinkles at the edge of his eyes.
“What do you want me to say, Harry? That I missed little Styles down there?” You sputtered a laugh.
“Little? Is that what you’d call it?” He placed his elbows on the table and leaned forward closer to you, “You said otherwise when–“
“Anything else for you two?” The waiter broke the tension as Harry shot his eyes up to the man.
“I think we’ll take the check. Thank you.”
You laughed as the server walked away and Harry cocked his head with that smirk still plastered on his face.
The sun was beginning to go down as the check was laid on the table and you insisted on splitting it with Harry. He grumped about you paying anything at all but you weren’t taking no for an answer.
You were surprised you’d been at the restaurant for so long. Hours had gone by but it didn’t feel that long because you two had so much to talk about. So much lost time to make up for.
“So where do you live, Y/n? Should I drop you off at home?”
You bit your lip and shrugged, “Not too far from here. Off Coalfax and the interstate. Do you want to drop me off?”
Harry’s smile softened, “I don’t want to drop you off. No. I want to continue this. I’m not ready for you to disappear again.”
Swallowing you reached your hand toward his and rubbed your fingers over his knuckles, “Then you don’t have to drop me off. Come with me. I’ll invite you in.”
Harry stood up quickly, taking your hand in his as you both walked to the exit and toward his car. You laughed as he pulled you along.
“Coalfax? Just North of here?” He spoke as he started up his car.
“Yeah. Exactly. You’ll take a right on Coalfax. I’ll tell you where to go.”
Harry kept glancing at you and the smile on his face stayed throughout the entire drive. You were sure he was feeling the kind of excitement you had bubbling in your tummy. Still not quite sure of what to expect but nearly certain of what could happen.
Maybe you were jumping in too fast but maybe… just maybe the timing was exactly right. You couldn’t tell but you weren’t going to let yourself overthink it. That wasn’t going to happen with you anymore. You already regretted too much of what had happened with Harry and this time would be different.
Harry parked his car on the street in front of your small house and you both walked up to your door, “You’ve still got the same car,” he noted.
“Yup. Runs well. No payment other than insurance. Cheap maintenance. I love the old thing. Hope I never have to get rid of it.”
Harry followed behind you through your front door and you switched on the light before you felt his hand tugging at yours.
You turned to face him and the reality of everything was clear suddenly. You’d reconnected with Harry. The one man you couldn’t stop thinking about. Couldn’t stop replaying his words to you, couldn’t stop imagining the way he kissed you and took care of you.
“I can’t believe you’re standing here in my living room,” you smiled at him and Harry shook his head.
“I can’t believe I’m here either. I can’t believe I’m looking at you and that you were there today and…” he swallowed as he squeezed your hand, “I don’t want to scare you off, Y/n, but you have no idea how happy I am right now. How this all feels like destiny. Like we were meant to be here right now.”
You laughed through your nose, “I don’t really believe in stuff like that, but it doesn’t kind of feel that way, doesn’t it? Like another chance.”
He nodded, “Another chance. Exactly.”
“Do you want to sit? Or would you like some wine?”
Harry looked around the space of your living room. He hadn’t taken his surroundings in until then as he was too focused on you.
“Maybe a glass of wine. If it’s not too much trouble.”
You grinned, “Of course it’s not. Come. It’s in the kitchen.”
The light flickered on overhead as you flipped the switch and then opened your cabinet to retrieve the bottle of wine and two glasses.
“Y/n, this place is really nice. I like it.” Harry looked around as he spoke.
“I like it too. It’s why I moved here. Felt like home when I walked in to view it for the first time. It’s just a rental but it’s perfect for me.”
You placed the bottle on the counter and handed him a glass of wine.
Harry held his glass up, “Thank you for inviting me in and for humoring me with your kindness.”
You laughed, “Humoring you? Harry, I am fully genuine right now. I wanted to have dinner with you and I wanted you to come into my home. I’m not just being nice. I want you here.”
“I like hearing that.”
You both took a sip of your wine as Harry kept his eyes on you.
It was warm. Searing hot in fact. Harry was gorgeous and he was in your house and he was looking at you with those green eyes that had looked at you so many times before.
“Have you…” He paused as he placed his glass down and cleared his throat, “Have you seen anyone since? Like dated? Are you dating?”
You laughed at the way he fumbled his words. He seemed nervous suddenly, “No. I haven’t.” You placed your own glass down and suddenly felt that flutter of nerves, “And… I’m a little nervous to ask you the same.” You raised your brows at him.
He shook his head, “No.”
You nodded, “Surprised to hear that. But relieved I have to admit.”
“Why are you surprised?”
“Because I thought you’d have your pick. In fact even today when I thought there was a chance I might see you, felt like it was silly because surely you’d moved on and found someone.”
Harry’s brows stitched together, “I had a hard time feeling okay after that day when I left your apartment. Have actually never been so depressed and distraught over anyone before. I couldn’t just move on. Even when I started to feel a little better about it all. I just missed you so much. I know you blocked me on every platform out there. I got the hint when you didn’t text or call back. But I still missed you.”
You smiled, “And you’re not on social media at all. I did look but I kind of felt like if I did find you it wouldn’t have been good for me. I know I could have tried harder to reach out. I think I was a little scared of what I’d find.”
“What did you think you’d find?”
“That you were dating someone. I don’t know.”
The air shifted when Harry brought his hand up to your chin and gently gripped your face, “You’re the only woman I’ve had my mind on all these months. The only one I could ever think about. I don’t want anyone else.”
Your lips parted and you blinked your eyes as you took in his words.
“Do you understand what I mean? I don’t know if you feel the same way about me but just to know that you missed me and want me to be here with you right now means everything to me.”
“I don’t want anyone else either, Harry.”
“Does that mean you want me? I just need to hear it if it’s true, Y/n.”
You gulped and nodded, “Yeah. I do.”
The hand that held your chin released you and moved around to the back of your neck while his other hand landed on your hip and he pressed his lips to yours.
At last. At last.
You closed your eyes and drew your hands up to the back of his neck and moaned as he opened his mouth and you opened yours. Lips winding and smearing and pushing…
It felt like you were looking down at yourself, watching as you kissed Harry in your kitchen. And it was a beautiful sight. The two of you joined, grasping onto the other, hearts thrashing in your chests, bodies alight.
Harry’s grip on your side tightened, his fingers pinching around your clothes. The hand at the back of your neck squeezing and holding you in place as his lips slid against yours
You allowed yourself to be pulled in closer and moved your hand into his curls. You missed his scent. You missed his touch. His warmth. His care.
He parted from the kiss and moved his hand to your jaw, “Can we start over? This time, Y/n, you’re not going to regret it. This is it for us. Understand me?”
His words were almost a threat. Or maybe a promise. Both perhaps.
“Yes, Harry. I’m not going to regret it this time. I promise.”
He nodded, still holding you close, and then softly ghosted his lips over yours, “Because I can’t lose you again. I want this with you.”
You were gonna lose it. Everything was too much and not enough. You wanted him and you wanted to go slow but you wanted to tear his clothes off and feel him all over.
“I want you, Harry,” you breathed out against his lips as you clung to him, “I want this with you.”
You felt the vibration of his moan against your mouth as he dropped his lips to your chin and then along the curve of your jaw. When his lips pressed into the skin on your neck you gasped and hugged him tighter. His mouth drew your flesh in as he sucked a spot and then lowered to the curve of your shoulder and neck, suckling again at the skin where you knew it would be bruised.
“Fuck…” he whispered as he pressed his nose against your jaw, “Where’s your bedroom, Y/n?”
That was easy. The house was small. You led him down the hallway to your bedroom where you turned on your lamp and he began unbuttoning his shirt.
“Take your clothes off.”
You were surprised by his sudden command but you didn’t want to ask questions. The only thing you wanted was him and his hands and his body…
You pulled off your top before unzipping your skirt and kicking it down your legs. Harry’s eyes were dark as he continued taking his clothes off while he watched you undress.
When you were only in your underwear and bra he pointed, “Off. All of it.”
You swallowed and did as he said. Taking your bra off first and then your panties slowly as you used your bed to keep balance.
Harry was left in only his boxer briefs as he stalked toward you like a predator. You’d seen him in action before, you’d seen him a little dominant but this was different. It was like he had something to prove.
“On the bed, Y/n.”
You gave him a curt nod and sat down before scooting back into your bed. He climbed between your legs and moved your thighs apart, “You want this right? You want me? Want us?” He looked at you.
You nodded, “Yes, Harry. I do.”
That seemed like all he needed to know before he finally placed his lips on your chubby thigh, dotting wet kisses down and toward the soft inside near to your crotch and then he switched to the other side, kissing upward gently as he looked at you and then gripped the back of your thighs to push your legs apart, switching his sight from your face to your pussy.
“Y/n I missed everything about you,” he lowered himself, putting his stomach down onto your bed as he held himself over your core, “I know I only had you twice like this but I missed your body. Your smell,” he let go of your left leg as he pressed his fingers onto your mound and slowly dragged them downward, “The way your thighs part and how your skin looks right here,” he pressed a kiss over the spot right next to your labia.
But then he pushed himself up and climbed over you releasing your leg, his hands finding your breasts, “Your perfect tits,” his lips wrapped around your nipple, tongue laving over your sensitive bud and kissing over your soft skin toward your other side, lapping at your plush breasts before dragging his mouth upward to your neck, “Your skin, your voice,” hot peppered kisses up to your jaw until his mouth met yours again.
“Your mouth, this mouth,” he licked against your lips and pushed his mouth against the edge of yours and ran his nose against yours, “You. I missed you. Everything. Your heart and your laugh. I can’t do it again. I can’t go through that again.”
You felt his hands on your face, cupping your cheeks as he looked down at you, “Don’t leave me. Not ever again.”
You shook your head and lifted a hand up to his jaw, “Never. I don’t want to, Harry. I won’t.”
He grinned dreamily at you, his eyes wandering over your features slowly before he lowered himself down your body again, pressing his shoulders to the back of your thighs, and hooked his arms underneath to keep you in place.
The moment you felt his mouth on your core you clenched your eyelids closed and sighed. It had meant so much to you to have him loving on you, touching you, needing you. And Harry was the only man who’d ever worked an orgasm out of you with his mouth.
And even then, his tongue dragging through your pussylips and up to your clit, over and over again in a teasing, slow build it had you unwinding and unfolding for him. You wanted to give yourself to him fully. And that felt so good.
It felt good to trust yourself for once. To allow yourself to trust him. You could push past your feelings of inadequacy and thinking that no one would actually want you for you. Because that was a lie. You had been lying to yourself for so long and even though you knew it was your own hangup, it was hard to get past it. Until now. Because now you weren’t going to undermine yourself anymore. You learned it was okay to question motives but that it was also okay to accept kindness and love where it was offered.
You felt as he applied open-mouthed kisses to your clit and finally began to push over it, the pressure and the slide of his tongue right where you needed him had you moaning. Had you getting his face all wet.
Harry’s mouth and tongue worked at you strategically; slow teases of a gentle lap at your bud and then a harsh suck and flick to make you shiver. Every wet drag of his muscle against your clit drew you closer to your end as you gave in to the feeling.
And just like the other times he’d eaten you out you reached down to push your fingers into his hair and arched your back into him as a signal for him to keep doing exactly what he was doing. And he seemed to understand your nonverbal cue as he dug in and continued lapping and sucking exactly like you liked.
He watched your tits wobble and your body jerk and convulse as he kept his mouth suctioned to your pussy with his tongue wagging and slicking over your puffy clit until he felt you pressing his head down further and you coughed out a loud groan when your thighs started to shake.
His moans into your pussy vibrated through to your guts and it felt like you were going to explode.
“Fuck, Harry!” You were grinding yourself into his mouth and nose as you felt your release snap and you lost control of your volume and the sound of your voice and your limbs as he held you down so he could press broad strokes of his tongue over your pussy back and forth.
Harry closed his eyes and let you use his face and mouth to grind your clit on as you orgasmed. His cock was so hard; just tasting you and hearing your gasps and pleas of need had him spinning in the clouds. It made him happy to hear how good he was making you feel.
And that’s what he wanted the most. Was to make you happy. He wanted your smiles and laughter. He wanted you to enjoy his company and to feel happy with him. He wanted your heart and your soul and everything that made you who you were because he’d already decided he’d give you everything he could. His heart was yours already.
Ever since that day you kicked him out of your apartment, he hadn’t stopped thinking about all the things he did wrong. How childish he’d been with you. He hadn’t meant to fuck up so badly but he would make sure that his old ways were in the past. Now he was yours and he would prove to you that you could trust him.
When you gently released his hair and pushed yourself up to look at him he lifted with a grin, “Felt good?” His mouth and chin were glistening with you.
You laughed and nodded as you watched him slide his underwear down his sturdy thighs and toss them onto the floor. His body was even better than before. You weren’t sure why. Maybe he’d been hitting the gym harder. Or maybe it was just that now things were different. And you were seeing him in a different light. Looking at him in a way that you never had before. But you were still focused on his strong build and dark tattoos as well. That glorious cock, bobbing and heavy was all yours. You loved the way he felt inside of you and how perfect it looked hanging between his thighs like it was.
You sat up and got to your knees to adjust yourself and laid a palm on his thigh as you looked at him and licked your lips. He understood your hint as you moved your hand up toward his cock and he looked down at your fingers before placing his hand over yours, “We’ll do that later. Plenty of time to get to all that. I just want to make love to you, Y/n.”
“But you ate me out. I should at least–“
“No. Later,” he got to his knees and pushed you gently back to your bottom, “You don’t understand. I can’t wait one more second to be inside of you. We’ll have plenty of time for that other stuff but I haven’t had sex since in 9 months. If you put your mouth anywhere near my cock it’s gonna make me come too fast. A little out of practice,” he smiled with a small laugh as you laid your back into the mattress and he settled himself between your legs, hips tucking against yours.
You could feel his rigid, girthy cock slide through your labia as he rolled his hips down and up, wetting his shaft, “Want to fuck you now. Okay?”
You moaned and nodded. It was okay by you. You knew there’d be time for blowjobs later so you didn’t mind having him inside your cunt, stuffing you to the brim like you knew he would. There was plenty of time for all that, now that you weren’t going to be running off from him again.
“Want this cock, honey?” He continued rocking his hips. Sliding himself up and down, the tip of his cock collecting your arousal and pushing it up to your clit.
“Yes, Harry. Please.” You bucked upward to catch him at your entrance but he pressed your hip down and grinned at you playfully.
“Love hearing you say please. Such a good girl for me.”
You groaned when he wouldn’t push in right away, still teasing you with the drag of his thick shaft up and down through your labia and against your clit. The sound of it was lewd. Filthy.
“Please fuck me!” You whined.
Harry paused his motions, keeping his eyes on yours as he reared back and took his base in his palm to line himself up to your hole. He kept one hand on the inside of your thigh as he began to press himself inward slowly, the snap of his bulbous head entering you and pushing through your walls was the first act of confirming everything.
Confirming that this was it. That now you were connected and there was no turning back. That all the promises spoken were sealed.
You both kept your eyes pinned on one another as he bottomed out, balls tucked against your ass with a whimper from his mouth and a deep sigh of relief.
He slowly pulled back before inching his way back into the hilt and repeated his languid strokes as your wet pussy blossomed and opened wide for his girth until he was rocking down into you with a force that had your tits bouncing and harsh breaths punching from your lungs.
Harry’s strong abs clenched as his thighs flexed, working into you, exacting strokes deep into your cunt and skin colliding every time you felt the dip of his crown nudging into your tummy.
He sat back to his haunches, knees bent with the back of your thighs draped over the top of his. He watched as he sunk into you and pulled back to his tip, his shaft glistening and coated in you before he thrust back in until you were gasping and reaching for his arms to keep yourself grounded. To remind yourself of who’s cock was fucking you so good.
“Love this pussy, Y/n. You take me so well. So fucking juicy and plush,” he pounded into you, putting everything he had into it, muscles working and pushing him further and further as you bounced upward on the mattress every time he crashed into you.
“Hear that, baby?” Harry used a hand to squeeze at your tit, “Your bed squeaking, your pussy creamy and wet around me, those desperate whimpers from these pretty lips?” He pushed his hand up to your mouth, pressing his thumb to your bottom lip.
You moaned in response and nodded as you stitched your brows together in bliss.
“That’s right. That’s the sound of me fucking you and we’re gonna do it again and again and again. Yeah?” He spoke through clenched teeth.
You nodded, “Fuck! Yes, Harry!” Your words were punched from your lungs as he continued railing ito you, his hips rocking against yours.
Your whole being was lit up. From your racing mind to your tingling skin and toes, the bones that kept you solid, your pumping heart, and your pussy gripping onto Harry’s fat cock as he slid into you, back and forth, bumping through your inside walls into that hard-to-reach little dip that had you breathless.
Every stroke he gave you put you closer and closer to your second orgasm. The delicious emergence and unraveling of your end made you delirious.
When he leaned himself over you he thrust down harshly, pushing your thighs wider apart, the sound gushy and slick as he drove into you. You could feel his cock sliding through your guts and his pelvis grinding against your clit making you quiver.
“Oh my god…” you panted as you reached up for his shoulders where you could feel the taught muscle keeping himself up and aligned as he fucked into you, your back digging into the mattress underneath.
“Yeah? Feels good huh? Told you we fit together perfectly. Pussy deserves to be filled and stuffed every day. Want you to feel so good, baby…”
“It’s so fucking good,” your whimpered words were shaky and breathy.
“I know baby… So good… gonna give it to you every fucking day like this. Make love to you and treat you like a queen. Be so good to you…” his strained words were breathy as he was feeling the heat with you.
His lips pressed into yours and your brain short-circuited as you fell into that hazy, floaty space of ecstasy and need. Need for Harry and his body and his heart. Need for happiness with him. The need to feel happiness with someone you could trust.
When you sucked on his tongue and he rocked into you, keeping his hips smoothe against yours you began to whine and moan as your orgasm approached.
But then Harry stopped. He pulled back from the kiss and looked down at you with that evil grin you’d seen before and you gasped at the loss. You had just been on the cusp of coming.
He quickly pulled out as his own chest was rising and falling rapidly, his cock swayed and you pushed yourself up to see what was happening before he grabbed your sides and rolled you over to your tummy.
“Harry!” You yelped at the sudden maneuver and felt his palm land harshly on your bum. And then again and again. You jumped and crooned out as he issued your ass a handful of spankings to each side and then heard him moan when he kneaded into the meat of your bottom as if he couldn’t get enough of you. You suddenly felt him pushing your legs apart and fitting himself between them as he forced his hard cock back into your wet pussy, his heavy tip pushing past your small opening and you gasped at the suddenness of it all.
You moaned at the relief of finally having him tucked back inside. He slid through you smoothly, his hands holding your ass cheeks apart as he worked himself in over and over. You had your face smushed into the blankets as you sighed.
His hips rocked against your ass and you could feel him swiveling himself in every time his balls pressed into your skin, grounding himself deep through your tummy. The sounds he was making had you grinning. It felt just as good for him. He needed your body for relief. You were happy to let him get whatever he needed from you.
Slow languid strokes of his long cock, splitting you open with every thrust felt so good. It reminded you of how big he really was. How bulky and long his cock was as it disappeared inside of you and nudged its way into your depths.
“Stick your fingers over your clit, Y/n. Go on baby.”
You gurgled a moan and lifted your hips slightly to allow your right hand access to your pussy. And it was more relief. The feel of it all coming together was perfection. His fat cock taking up every inch of your insides, his tip crashing through your guts, the weight of him behind you and fucking you into the mattress, and your fingers on your clit, slipping and pressing…
Harry gave himself a moment to bask in the view of his cock spreading your vagina apart. He dragged a thumb over the spot where he was fucking into you, feeling himself move in and out, watching your pussy wrapped around him, glistening wet until he felt his balls tightening and constricting and your walls clamping down over him.
He could see your hips moving faster as you ground over your hand to get to your orgasm but then he pulled at your hand, moving your fingers away from your clit and you felt his chest against your back and his lips against the shell of your ear as he mumbled something you couldn’t quite hear.
It caught you off guard. The second denial of your orgasm. You angled your neck to try and turn toward him, “Harry, what?”
You felt him press his cock in hard, hips stilling against your ass, his lips pressed over your ear, “Put your fingers back on your clit but don’t move them til I say.”
In confusion, you slid your hand back to your core and he continued, “Good.”
He reared back and then thrust forward again, “Do you want to come, Y/n? Wanna come on my cock?”
You moaned a yes as you secretly slid a finger across your bud making you shiver.
“Then tell me you’re mine. Say you’re mine, Y/n, and I’ll let you come.”
You had no hesitation in telling him just that, “Harry I’m yours. I’m yours…”
“My girl. That’s right. Rub your pussy, baby. Get yourself off,” his breathy words were warm over your ear and neck as you began to slip your fingers back and forth to get you back to that spot that would have you tipping over the edge.
Then you felt Harry shift behind, his chest no longer pressed into your back as he started pounding into you, “Fucking come, baby. You’re mine now…”
You grinned in elation at his words and the way he sounded totally fucked out himself. Much like the way you were feeling. Like he was out of his mind with lust for you.
Every smack of his hips into your bum had you jolting up and you ground down into your hand, rolling your clit over whatever you could reach when you started to feel that melting, unraveling sensation. The electrical charge that made your pussy quiver and your back arch and your vision go white.
“There it is! Fuck!” Harry’s thrusts were harsh but every stroke felt like a sparking and exhilarating charge going through your body. His tip plunged into your cervix and fingers gripped your bottom harshly as you heard him choke out a loud moan.
“Gonna fill you fill you up baby… fuck… stuff you with my come…”
You could hardly hear your bed creaking and clanking as your ears began to ring and you gushed around Harry, your walls spasming and constricting around him tightly.
He moved into you, gliding in and out until finally his balls squeezed and pumped sperm through his cock directly into your wet hole. He stilled his hips as he whimpered a groan, throwing his neck back with his mouth dropped open, his cock throbbing inside of you, coating your walls with his come.
It seemed to last forever. He moaned and twitched, his body connected and pressed into yours as he drained every bit of himself into you. He pressed inward further, stuffing your pussy with his come, making sure every bit of it seeped through your cunt and soaked your insides.
He hadn’t had sex in 9 months. Jerking himself off didn’t do it like the real thing and when it was with you it was even better. The best. He hadn’t come so hard ever in his life he was certain as his body flushed in heat and his heart thudded wildly in his chest when he crumpled over your back, tucking his arms around you and kissing your neck softly.
You moaned quietly at the feel of him on your back. The post-orgasm glow was never so good before. It felt like you were in a different realm of existence, floating and glowing in bliss.
“You’re mine, Y/n?” He wanted reassurance. Which was understandable after the way you handled things the first time around. But this time was going to be different. You two were starting over again. This time with a better understanding of what the other needed, with a better understanding of yourself and what each of you needed to do to be a good partner. Things were different this time.
Harry pushed himself up and looked down at his sensitive cock still inside of you. He drew himself back and watched as his creamy come leaked from your hole and he pressed himself back inside. You felt him pumping himself in and out shallowly and turned your head to look at him. His eyes were glued to your cunt where he was fucking his come back inside of you. A natural urge he couldn’t deny.
When his eyes found yours and he finally pulled himself out, he helped you roll to your side as he laid next to you, his hand on your cheek and you placed your palm on his chest, “I’m yours, Harry. I was back then too I just didn’t realize it. Couldn’t admit it. But I’m yours.”
You both smiled at one another. His eyes were bright and clear and you could trust him. You knew you could. He made you feel so comfortable about yourself. Made you feel like you could make him happy and that he’d want to stick around for you. That he would make you happy in return.
He took your hand and pressed it harder over his chest, “I’m yours too. I was since the day I first met you. I’ve never seen anyone more beautiful, Y/n. And I’m not letting go of you again.”
You grinned and pushed yourself up to his mouth to kiss him. You felt his palm slide down your side and to your bum, as he squeezed you, causing a laugh to puff out from your lips against his.
“Sorry, I love your ass. Feels so good in my hands. Just wanna bite it and stuff my face against it. Can’t help it.”
You rolled your eyes at him still grinning but when he swatted at your bottom your mouth dropped open in surprise.
“Don’t you roll your eyes at me, young lady. When I tell you I love your ass, I fucking mean it.” He gave you another good squeeze to emphasize his words.
So you slid your hand down to his nipple and squeezed at it, “And I love your nipples and these tits,” you laughed.
Harry’s wide grin and dimples were suddenly hidden when he nuzzled his face into your neck and you heard him inhale deeply.
The afterglow with him was something out of a romance novel. It was beautiful and precious. Almost too good to be true.
The sound of a cellphone ringing had both you and Harry lifted out of the sweet moment. He sat up, “It’s me.”
He hopped out of your bed and you watched as he crouched down to his pants where his phone was in his back pocket. His strong back flexing as he pulled it out and then stood up to answer the call.
“Hello?”
You frowned as you watched him disappear into your hallway, still nude. Turning to look at the clock on your side table you noted that it was paste 10 pm. You wondered who was calling at the late hour. Couldn’t have been work. What could be so important that he had to leave your side after he’d just given you the best orgasm of your life?
“I’ll be there! I’m booking a flight as soon as I get off the phone. Yes..”
You could hear him pacing and talking. You picked up most of what he said as you sat silently on your bed waiting for him to return and explain himself.
“I missed you too. I can’t wait to finally meet her. I know. Me too.”
You slid off your bed and pulled a t-shirt from your drawer to put it over your body as he ended the call with an I love you.
Harry walked back into your room with a huge grin, “My sister just had her baby!”
You smiled at him widely as he took three long-legged steps toward you, his cock swaying as he was still completely naked before he wrapped you in a tight hug, “Today is like the best day I’ve ever had. First you,” he kissed your cheek, “Now my sister...”
You laughed when he twirled around with you and then he let go, a sudden look of realization on his face, “Come with me to London. I want everyone to meet you!”
You blinked your eyes and stuttered your words, “Are you serious?”
He grabbed your hands, “Dead serious. Come with me. It’s not like you have to ask off for work. We can go for a couple of weeks. God, it’d be so fun, Y/n. Me and you… My mom’s going to love you.”
Your head was spinning from everything that had happened that day. From the moment Harry walked into that room at the gallery to now having him standing naked in your bedroom asking you to take a trip with him to see his family and his sister’s new baby. But, spinning or not, there was no part of you that would turn down the offer.
“That sounds amazing. I’d love to, Harry.”
He pulled you in for another hug and pressed his face into your neck, “This is going to be so good, Y/n.”
You laughed as he squeezed you tight and then his hands cupped your cheeks, “Now, let’s get you cleaned up, and then we’ll book our flights. Yeah?”
You nodded as your cheeks burned hot when he pressed his mouth to yours again.
It was a funny thing to you. That the first time you had sex with Harry the post-orgasm afterglow was interrupted by a phone call. And this time another phone call had broken the moment too. Except things were not the same as they were then. Now you knew who Harry was. You trusted him and this time everything was going to be different.
A/N: Hope you enjoyed this!! xoxo
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cherryrikis · 3 months ago
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SUMMER ISNT OVER
PAIRING s2l park sunghoon x fem reader
WARNINGS eric makes a kinda offensive joke
GENRE strangers to lovers, romance/drama, summer love
SYNOPSIS driving to anaheim with your cousins was meant to be a fun trip away from the rest of the family. but when you knocked on the door of the wrong hotel room, the whole course of your trip would change.. and you’d find yourself missing a certain someone when its time to go home.
authors note - definitely longer than my standard fics (bc @hannicorpse wrote this with me !! ) but it’s only 4k ish😊
growing up in a big family meant your aunties and uncles had kids generally close to you in age. but more than anyone else, you always stuck with the same 3 of your cousins. danielle, eric, and karina. so now, you’d be stuck together for the next week as you drove through la.
“i don’t get why the drive is sooo long. like, it’s barely 40 miles from here.” eric complained as he saw the route on google maps. it was nearly 2 hours from his house in pasadena to the hotel in anaheim.
“how do you think we feel? we pretty much drove the same distance in the opposite direction just to pick you up!” danielle scoffed.
“maybe if you didn’t pop a tire and just slept at auntie’s house like we did, we could’ve been in anaheim by now.” karina. snickered.
“it wasn’t my fault! who just leaves a bunch of broken glass in MY driveway? and besides. i am not driving to long beach in this traffic.”
“you’re the one who decided to move up and out when we all stayed.” karina commented yet again.
“not my fault i didn’t wanna stay coastal. or in the hills.” “kinda is.”
with all the back and forth arguing coming from your cousins, it was getting harder and harder for you to focus on the road. you tried to ignore it, until you couldn’t anymore.
“can you guys just stop bickering? i can barely hear myself think, i literally just missed that last exit to the freeway. if anything, eric should be driving since he’s the second oldest, he’s the only boy, and he made us go out of the way to get him!” you announced in frustration.
hesitantly, eric reached out to tap your shoulder. “what now?” you sighed. “can you go to that gas station over there? i forgot to use the bathroom..” “eric sohn!” you groaned in annoyance, before reluctantly doing so.
despite taking an unusual amount of time to use the bathroom, eric did make up for his incompetence by driving the rest of the way like you suggested early on.
one minute, you’re closing your eyes to take a nap. and before you knew it, you were in anaheim, arriving at the marriott hotel.
the amount of luggage between you three girls was ungodly, especially since you’d be here for so long. yet somehow, eric probably packed more than then the three of you combined.
after finally checking in and hauling all the bags into the hotel elevator (since karina refused to get a luggage cart because she didn’t want to have to put it back), you were able to enter your rooms and relax.
you got two connected rooms instead of one big one, because it had a better deal. eric and karina shared the first room, 2343, while you and danielle shared the second room, 2345.
the singular hotel rooms alone weren’t really big, but it would still suffice. not a full kitchen, or a ‘real’ living room. on the other hand, both bedrooms were roomy and the bathroom was nice. so that was a plus.
during those first few hours after you had arrived, it was mainly spent going around grocery markets to get food and snacks to stock up the room.
but you all were starting to get hungry, craving some korean barbecue or hotpot. so, you were sat in some korean barbecue restaurant in buena park, cooking the meat before karina began to talk.
“you know, the pool is pretty nice and big. we should go check it out later.” she suggested, slightly looking up from the grill. you and danielle hummed in response.
when you got back to the hotel, turns out there were no towels at the pool. you had to ask for them at the front desk. so being the youngest, (and also being the one who accidentally burnt half of the brisket), you were forced to go and retrieve the towels.
“how many?” the receptionist asked. “uhh.. 5 pool towels please. actually.. sorry, i meant 4.” “sure thing, just let me go grab them from the storage room.”
you silently thanked the employee as she handed you the towels, before taking the elevator back up.
as the lights flashed floor 23, you walked to your room, smiling at any stranger who walked past you.
realizing you forgot the room key, you knocked loudly on the door as you waited for danielle to open up.
but when the door opened, it was in fact, not danielle. yet a handsome boy, around your age, with a charming accent. australian, maybe?
you slightly froze as the australian boy, along with three others behind him, stared at you.
“i- i am so sorry. i thought this was 2345.” you apologized, your cheeks flushing pink in embarrassment.
“ah yeah. this is 2347. i guess your room is next door. but uh, no worries. im jake, by the way.” he smiled at your shy figure. “so, what are you doing with all those towels? gonna go swim?” “oh, yeah. me and the people i’m with are gonna go see the pool later tonight.”
you awkwardly rubbed the back of your neck, scanning his room through the door frame. it was bigger than yours, but similar for the most part. two bedrooms, a full kitchen and living room. clearly, they paid for the suite. you noticed a pale boy sitting on the couch, staring at you. he was pretty cute. maybe even gorgeous. few moles, nice hair. practically porcelain skin.
you zoned out onto his face, pausing for a moment before returning your gaze back to the aussie who you now knew as jake.
“oh, you can come in if you want? you seem a little out of it.. uhh..” he stopped, waiting for you to say your name.
his words immediately brought you back to reality. “huh? oh. it’s uh, y/n. it’s okay i’ll just go back to my room. sorry again.” you mumble another apology, before leaving to go back to the correct room.
jake closed the door just as you left, letting out a laugh he didn’t was holding back. “she was so funny. she looked so scared.”
“who was that?” sunghoon asked. “some girl next door. her name was y/n or something.” jake answered.
“she’s kinda hot.” jay chuckled, nudging sunghoon with his elbow. jake and heeseung agreed, quickly discussing you and wondering if you had any friends with you. sunghoon quietly nodded in agreement. but, he couldn’t get you out of his mind. the thoughts in his head were practically louder than the voices around him. and he just hoped he didn’t accidentally mention it out loud.
however, the one thing he did say out loud, was suggesting to go to the pool. (in hopes of seeing you).
when you got to your room, you distributed the pool towels to each of them, then keeping one for yourself. you talked about how you went to the wrong room and laughed it off, but you left out the fact that all you could think about when jake spoke to you, was his cute friend with those moles.
eric scolded you for ‘disturbing the neighbors and their peace’ but honestly, you couldn’t care less. karina defended you anyway. it was kinda her and eric’s thing to just always bicker. they were more like brother and sister than your other cousins who were actually siblings.
later that night, you made your way to the pool. around 7:30pm. much to your surprise, jake and his friends were already there. “hey beautiful.” he teased, coming up to you from the pool, while his friends remained in the water.
“oh hey, i know you. were you waiting for me? didn’t take you for the flirtatious type.” you joked. “who’re your friends?” asked eric, not noticing the way heeseung had his eyes set on karina.
“right,” jake nodded. “oh, boyfriend?” he paused and asked you, interrupting himself. “older cousin..” eric grimaced.
“oohh.. um. sorry.. anyway, the one with the dark red hair is heeseung. the one with the dark blue trunks is jay. and the one with the moles is sunghoon.”
“do heeseung and sunghoon speak english?” eric halfheartedly joked.
“dude.” karina scoffed, slapping his bare chest.
“yeah..? we were all born here, in la.” jake raised an eyebrow. “so i assume you’re all cousins then?” he continued awkwardly.
“yeah.” you nodded. “that’s eric. the one next to me is karina, and the one next to her is danielle.” karina and danielle waved at jake after the introductions, but eric refused.
“don’t get any ideas.” eric crossed his arms, finally noticing how karina and heeseung were pretty much fawning over one another.
the atmosphere felt thick, and it was silent for a long while, before jake had broken the barrier.
“uh.. anyway. you’re welcome to hang out with us..” he shrugged, gesturing to their chairs before hopping back into the water.
taking up on his offer, you placed your belongings next to jake and his friends’ seats. you sat down for a moment, barely listening to how karina told eric can’t he just ask questions like that.
soon after, you moved to sit on the very edge of the pool, sticking your feet into the 10ft deep water.
you looked at sunghoon, watching as he had a contest with jay to see who could hold their breath the longest.
you noticed his habit of licking his fangs. you noticed how he’d often touch his eyebrows. you also noticed how he looked at you every so often, before hesitantly swimming up to you where you still sat.
“why aren’t you getting in?” he asked as he held onto the edge of the pool, his hands on either side of you.
“i will in a bit.” you paused. “so, sunghoon, right? one of jake’s friends?” “yeah.” he smiled, flashing his canines. “and you’re y/n, the girl who came knocking on the wrong door?” “yeah.” you grinned, mirroring him.
sunghoon hoisted himself up out the water, moving to sit next to you on the deck. luckily, he covered you in time as karina and danielle jumped in with a big splash.
“when did you guys get here?” he asked, finally looking into your eyes up close.
“just this afternoon. but we leave by the end of the week.” “yeah. us too.”
“so where are you from?” you question.
“west hollywood.”
“don’t tell me you’re one of those trashy hollywood kids.” you joke.
sunghoon playfully pouts, before breaking his act and laughing. “not even. i think i was raised pretty well.” he smiled. “but what about you? where are you from?”
“i live in long beach. but i was born and raised in beverly hills.”
“ew! don’t tell me you’re one of those trashy country club kids.” he jokes, clutching his chest.
you gasp, kicking water at him. he paused for a moment, before splashing you.
you and sunghoon were so immersed in each other and your conversations. you almost didn’t hear your cousins and his friends say they were going back up, after two hours of being in the pool.
the two of you stayed until closing time at 11pm, and even a little beyond that. you couldn’t think of a time you had that much fun with a guy.
“i had so much fun today.” sunghoon smiled with a genuine look of adoration, as he helped you up.
“i did too.” you blush before going to grab your tote bag. “we should hang out more often.”
“yeah, definitely. uhm, do ya think- do you think that i could like, you know. get your number? i mean, it’s okay if not. because like, if you’re not interested i totally get it. or if you just wanna be like friends that’s okay too. but like-”
you cut him off, pressing a finger to his lips. “of course you can.” you smiled brightly, taking his phone to dial in your number, pressing the call so you could also have his number saved on your phone.
“now we could call or text each other anytime.”
he smiled. and that was enough for you.
you walked back to your rooms together, but sunghoon paused before going in. “see you tomorrow?” “yeah, of course.”
“goodnight sunghoon.”
“goodnight y/n.”
you did in fact see each other tomorrow. while both of your groups went out, you two stayed behind to spend some time together. with so much spare time (and no car), you settled to just watch a movie in sunghoon’s room.
“what movie is this?” you asked.
“the notebook.” “oh. i never watched it.” and his jaw immediately dropped in shock. “there is no way you never watched this cinematic masterpiece. now you have to watch it! pay attention.” sunghoon exclaimed, pulling you closer to him by your waist.
by the end of the movie, you were barely awake. it was good, you could definitely agree. but, in the same sense, it was so comforting, it quickly put you to sleep.
you leaned closer into sunghoon, placing your head on his shoulder. almost in the crook of his neck.
his heart swelled when he looked down at you, watching how you struggled to stay awake. why do i feel this way? i mean sure, she is really pretty. but i barely met her yesterday.. he thought.
it really put things into perspective for you both.
despite this fact, he couldn’t stop himself from leaning down to press a soft kiss on your lower cheek, a centimeter or two away from your lips.
“kissing me on the first date?” you mumbled tiredly. “hey, we’re hardly here for 6 more days. let’s make it count.”
and you did exactly that, you were making every last moment count.
the next day, you went to the glendale galleria together. “i haven’t been here in so long.” you sighed, forgetting just how big the shopping center was. “it’s almost like this mall i visited up in san jose.”
you gasped as you saw a beautiful necklace. it had a dainty gold chain and a stunning pendant. “sunghoon? don’t you think this would look gorgeous with my white sweetheart top?” “i don’t know much about women’s clothing, but i know you’ll look good in anything.” he replied smugly.
“aw thank you! but- oh. nevermind it’s way too expensive.” you shrugged, going to put it back. but sunghoon stopped you.
“i’ll buy it for you.” “it’s okay, really. it’s too much.” “for that necklace? $150 is not a lot.” “but to me it is.”
he ignored you, swiping his card anyway.
sunghoon nearly bought everything you slightly stared at, despite all your protests. that night, you came home with bags of clothes, snacks, makeup, and just random items you didn’t even really need.
you felt so guilty, thinking it was a waste of his money. you wanted to pay him back but surely, there was no way you could afford it. yet sunghoon didn’t care. he wanted to see you happy.
you settled for buying him a slice of pizza from the food court or generally just any food he wanted. and that was enough for him.
on the next day, you even went to disney california adventures together. because you and your cousins just so happened to go the same day as sunghoon and his friends.
most of your time at the theme park was spent with him, often making your groups uneven. or, one of your cousins had to be with one of his friends.
you loved going into random gift shops with sunghoon, taking pictures while trying on mickey ears and random headbands. he even bought you two matching ones.
the radiator springs ride in cars land was jay and sunghoon’s favorite. sunghoon loved how he felt butterflies in his stomach. not only from how steep the slope was, but also from how you tightly squeezed his hand in fear.
the drop tower was a memorable moment to everyone. the picture that was displayed at the exit of the ride, revealed eric was actually clinging onto jake and karina the entire time.
“do not save that. if you guys actually buy this souvenir picture i’ll literally run away from home.” he grumbled in embarrassment.
“it’s okay dude. stop stressing, because you’re gonna end up grabbing onto me again when we go on the incredicoaster.” jake joked.
you all laughed at eric’s humiliation but quickly bribed him with a pretzel from the pym test kitchen (even though it was insanely dry).
you couldn’t forget about your last ride of the day, the classic, the ferris wheel. karina, danielle, heeseung, and jay, decided to go in a rocking cart. you and sunghoon, along with eric and jake, decided to stay in a normal carriage. but eric refused to ride with jake, settling for going by himself.
eric was one of the only boys in your family, so being around sunghoon and his friends seemed to make him feel a little unwanted. but you understood.
you laughed as you heard danielle and karina’s screams while their carriage practically turned upside down.
at the very peak of the ferris wheel, was where you and sunghoon had your first real kiss while the sun set in the background. “this is so pinterest worthy.” you whisper. “don’t ruin this beautiful moment for me.” he mumbled, turning to watch the view after you pulled away from him.
by the end of it, you were giggling like a bunch of high school kids.
when you walked out the park, passing one last gift shop before the exit, sunghoon quickly ran inside. and he came out with two matching stuffed animals. a baby stitch plush, and a baby angel plush.
of course, you were angel, and he was stitch.
the beach day was one of your personal favorites.
you had picked up food from a local restaurant along with some snacks to bring to the beach, like a picnic. after you had finished eating, you all went for a swim.
you and the girls were the first to get out of the ocean, watching how the boys attempted to drown each other. you murmured a few sentences between one another that evening. however, it was clear nobody was listening to each other. “no way..” you whispered to yourself as you looked beside you.
heeseung and karina were practically making heart eyes at each other, not caring about the people around them. danielle’s cheeks puffed up as she held in her laughter.
but, you couldn’t say much either. the whole time, your eyes only ever remained on park sunghoon. the man who had caught your attention from the start.
the tension between the pair was obvious. so, you and sunghoon came up with the ultimate plan.
sunghoon would complain about how he was sore from wrestling in the water, so he asked if karina could hold his bags. but, he knew heeseung would quickly come to take it from her.
after getting everything and everyone into the car, you set course back to the hotel. sunghoon drove single handed, with his right arm resting in your grasp as you played with his rings.
you gave each other a knowing look before turning around to see almost everyone else had completely fallen asleep.
there sat heeseung, with karina’s head buried in his neck. jake remained isolated next to them, his headphones on full blast, as danielle, jay, and eric rested peacefully in the row behind him.
you smiled at sunghoon, even if he couldn’t see it. but you both knew your mission was accomplished.
by day 6, you were back in sunghoon’s room again. just lying down in his bed, speaking out gently and peacefully as you held each other.
“if you stayed in beverly hills earlier on, maybe we’d have known each other earlier.” said sunghoon.
“probably. my uncle, dani’s dad, is a realtor, and he always sold houses in your neighborhood. maybe i really would have known you sooner.”
“this whole trip has gone by way too fast.” he sighed, his face buried in your hair. “at least we still have tomorrow.” you mutter.
“will we keep in touch?” “if this whole time really mattered to you, you’ll know. but, we’ll worry about it tomorrow.”
as your words slowly began to die down, sunghoon figured you had fallen asleep.
he held you tighter, bringing you closer to him. sunghoon pressed a kiss onto your lips softly, before he too fell into a wakeless dream.
technically, sunghoon’s room was really jake’s room too since they always had to share a bed. but, seeing you two together and understanding the situation, he decided to take one for the team and sleep on the couch (only after heeseung did him a favor and brought him a blanket).
and before you knew it, it was your last day together. you were sitting by the pool where you met. your feet and lower legs dipped into the cold water as you felt the warm anaheim breeze. same position, same spot.
"it's been a good week. best week i ever had. this whole trip feels like a long dream and i haven't waken up yet. like, im still in long beach, tanning in my aunties backyard." you say.
the moment felt still, everything was paused, before sunghoon spoke. "you'll visit me up in the hills won't you?"
"of course i will. you trashy hollywood kid. and you'll visit me down in long beach?" "course i will." and he pressed his lips onto yours.
a part of you wished you met sooner, and that you had more time.
when sunghoon pulled away, you didn’t want to let go. you brought yourself up to kiss him again, holding him as if you’d never see him again. because who knows when you really will?
you almost sob when it's time to go home, you think you really have fallen in love this time around.
sunghoon refused to let you go, as if you’d vanish into thin air if you’re not within his grasp. and you felt the exact same way. despite not being together for long, now you really don’t know how you’ll go on without him.
because now, the summer was over.
you two were inseparable in the moment, jake and jay literally had to pry and rip sunghoon off of you.
they were gone before you could cry, but not before he could kiss you for the last time.
“make sure to call me!” he exclaimed from the car, after jay forced him inside. “i love you y/n!” sunghoon shouted out loud, as they started to drive off.
“i’ll call you every night! i love you too sunghoon!” you called back. “more than you know..” but the last part barely came out above a whisper, as his car was gone into the horizon.
and after that, was when you finally let it all out. all the longing, and the heartbreak.
the downside of summer love, never knowing if you’ll meet again.
you sobbed quietly in the backseat alone, refusing to let your cousins see you like this. you couldn’t handle being around them right now.
for you, the amount of time you knew each other didn’t matter. it was the way you understood each other, made each other feel. the way you cared for each other, some might even say it was in the way you loved each other.
but now, it was time to return to your normal lives, go on with your jobs or school. your endless summer has reached its finale. but how could it end like this?
one minute you’re bawling your eyes out in the back of karina’s jeep. your eyes swelled up as you clutched your chest with a heavy heart. the next minute, you wake up in your driveway, watching as your cousins hauled your luggage out to your doorstep for you.
before you knew it, now you were in despair as you hugged your pillow tightly. your silk pillowcase was almost as soft as his milky skin. it was unfair. you had no idea if you’d truly keep contact, or even ever see him again. maybe this whole summer fling thing was stupid.
one good moment wouldn’t make up for all the bad that followed after. you began to think, maybe it didn’t mean as much to him as it did to you. he’s handsome. he probably gets around. i’m not the only girl.
you lay awake that night, torn between the feeling of his lips on yours, and if whether or not it’s something you’ll ever get to experience again.
but by the next morning, someone was frantically knocking, pounding, on your front door. it was much to your surprise when you saw who it was. park sunghoon.
“holy shit, you scared me! what are you doing here..?” you gasped out, still processing the moment.
“you’re fucking crazy if you think i’ll just leave you like that, angel.” he muttered, before pulling you in by the waist to reunite your lips in a desperate kiss.
you suppose whatever you were thinking of last night can be disposed of. he did come back for you, and you do get to experience his lips on yours again.
last night, you were crying to the point there was no water left in your body. only dried tear stains and your red eyes remained as evidence. but now? by the following morning, your lover boy was already at your door.
and when he finally moved in to kiss you again, you smiled, reaching up to softly stroke his warm cheek.
you realized, all doubts you had about him were insecurities. false scenarios your mind made up to keep you questioning.
because sunghoon knew he would never leave you. he’d say it a thousand times over again to let you know just how much he loves you.
the summer wasn’t over yet. not until the two of you were through. because everyday with sunghoon felt like summer.
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strawberrystepmom · 1 year ago
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izuku x f!reader. enemies to lovers au, workshopped with @izvmimi <33333 her follow up part can be found here. wc 3.6k.
With an exasperated sigh, Izuku points the remote that looks comically small in his hand toward the flat screen TV screwed into his office wall to turn the volume up the moment you come on screen. 
“This week, yet another family was displaced by the inaction of heroes. When the focus shifted from merely catching villains rather than protecting the public…”
Your voice drifts into a blur, the man choosing to focus on your mouth and how it’s moving rather than what you’re saying. Plush and soft, topped with camera ready shimmering gloss. Your eyes are wide and doe like, your cheeks round and trustworthy. You’re the picture of empathy, pretty and polished, immaculate in every way.
It certainly isn’t hard to imagine why VOHSV, Victims of Hero Supported Violence, picked you as their spokesperson. Who else could manage this busy talk show circuit with expert precision? Watching you play the crowd and hosts’ emotions like a violin makes him roll his eyes but he can’t deny you are damn good. 
Your message is infuriating to him and his colleagues but at least you look like heaven sent while spreading it. It’s probably why everything you say spreads like wildfire across the social media apps he has open on his unlocked phone that rests on his desk. 
He’s listened to your spiel enough times that he can already fill in the blanks of what you’re saying but he picks up the remote and turns the volume up an additional click to be certain you haven’t deviated from your usual points. Costly property damage, displacement, lack of available care to those affected by the trauma of villain attacks, blah, blah, blah.
The interviewer appears on screen as the camera pans, nodding at the last comment you made that Izuku didn’t care to actually listen to.  
“And how does your organization suggest the Commission begin combating these issues?”
The camera is quick to pan back to you with your perfect smile, teeth striking and bright and dazzling. The man watching from his oversized office and overstuffed chair clenches his fist watching you, uncertain if it’s annoyance or desire that fills his chest, but he doesn’t look away despite the flashing red light on his desk phone telling him he’s being paged by his assistant. 
“I am personally calling upon the top heroes to do better.” Your smile doesn’t waver and the camera zooms in on your head and shoulders, allowing your next impassioned plea to land directly where you intend it to. “Deku, you claim you care, yet you are responsible for the most costly property damage caused by a hero in Japanese history. How do you explain that with that big smile plastered on your face?”
Bold of you to be taunting the man chuckling humorlessly from his desk about plastered on smiles with a high definition flat screen sized Cheshire grin of your own on your face but he appreciates the audacity. 
“Be a hero instead of just talking about being one.”
Perhaps if your life’s path were different you’d be a hero just like him or maybe he’d even be you, full of righteous anger toward those who only wish to help no matter the means. Or collateral. 
Without thinking, Izuku pulls his phone off of the top of his desk and his jaw slackens when he presses the little pen in the corner of the current most popular app in the app store. The speed of his thumbs is almost impressive, big hands on a little phone screen won’t stop the number one hero, and he smirks when his phone pings letting him know his post has gone live. 
Deku (@fight4smiles)
Name the time and place, VOHSV. I’ll gladly drop a check by to cover some of the damage you allege I’ve been doing. 
He gets to see your reaction in real time, the camera panning from you to the interviewer who grins excitedly, pressing on their in ear microphone and back. The man chuckles to himself, swinging back and forth in his chair, lips curved into a smirk. 
“It appears the current number one hero has responded to your challenge. He’s willing to meet.”
Your smile droops but you’re quick to put it back in place, brows raised and head nodding wildly. The adversarial relationship between the two of you is nothing new, Deku having spent the better part of this entire year ducking and dodging your direct invitations to speak with the VOHSV. 
He watches you smack your lips together and purse them, primly placing your hands in your lap and laughter comes easily. It’s no big deal to him to cut a check to help put some buildings back together, the many zeros on the end of his bank balance just one of the many perks of being at the top but it has never been about that for him.
Deep down, he knows he’ll never change your mind about your crusade but he would love to shut you up at least for a little while. 
“How brave of him to finally step up. I will be reaching out to him soon with details.”
The red light on Izuku’s desk phone continues to blink wildly and just as he leans forward to answer it, his office door opens and his assistant stares at him with disbelief with the current number two Dynamight hot on their heels, pulling his mask off of his head and gently shoving them out of the way.
The assistant scurries back to their position outside of Deku’s office as quickly as possible, allowing the men privacy.
“Why did you do that?” 
Izuku looks down at his cell phone and tosses it on his desk with a relaxed shrug. He catches a glance at your pretty face one last time before shutting the TV off, tossing the remote aside and turning his attention toward Katsuki with his arms folded over his chest. 
“You know that you’re giving them what they want, right? Giving these shitheads attention is just going to create more of ‘em.”
More of them - outspoken victims’ rights activists. VOHSV is simply one of many groups that have cropped up over the last several years as hero academies have continued to churn out bigger and better heroes with every graduating class. It has been a decade since Izuku and Katsuki graduated and the classes after them have only become stronger, a source of pride for both of the men, given their hefty donations to their alma mater. 
Sure the battles have become bigger, spectacles to be adapted into films and documentaries later, but isn’t that what being a hero is all about? What’s left behind after you save the day, no matter who may be affected?
The heroes of today are simply doing what they’ve been taught to do and that’s save the day no matter the cost. It’s hard to hold it against them when it’s systemic and historically that has been the main reason why most advocacy groups have fallen apart but not the VOHSV. They are succeeding because they have you, coiffed to perfection and ready to take anyone you can to task, including the devilishly handsome and arrogant man topping the hero charts.
Izuku sighs, his phone buzzing persistently on the desk in front of him. It’s certainly his agent or his PR team or someone eager to scold him for what he’s done so he ignores it, sliding the little piece of metal aside.
“I’d care more if their points were valid but we both know they aren’t. I’ll cut a check, flash a smile, and hopefully make their mouthpiece look silly enough she’ll stop doing press circuits. It seems like a winning situation to me.”
Bakugou snorts, unimpressed with the answer.
“What if this backfires and you look stupid?”
Izuku’s phone continues to buzz and he opens his desk drawer, sliding the device inside rather than deal with the issue at hand. He’ll comfort everyone later, what matters the most to him right now is when you’ll be brave enough to reach out to show him your hand. Right now, he has you backed into a corner and he simply wants to watch you make your way out of it, smug that he’s the one who has you pinned there.
“Impossible. People don’t take these organizations seriously enough for me to look stupid.”
Katsuki snorts, leaning against the door frame rather than fully entering the office. He was asked to stop by earlier this week, the two of them supposed to be ironing out details to appear at a hospital opening in another part of the city, but the task has clearly been put aside for a petty online feud headed by the Beacon of Hope himself.
“I think you’re already stupid.”
Izuku offers a curt smile and nods at his friend.
“I’ll take that into consideration along with all of your other opinions, don’t worry.” 
Any further argument between the two is cut short when Deku’s assistant bursts back onto the scene, peeking around the door frame. 
“Uh…the VOHSV spokesperson is on the phone for you, Mr. Midoriya.”
Izuku laughs and raises his brows, shifting forward in his chair and pressing the flashing line one button indicating a call is waiting. He presses his thick finger to his lips to encourage Bakugou and his assistant to be quiet and he hits the speaker button immediately.
“I’ll admit, I wasn’t expecting to hear from you so soon.”
It takes all of you not to toss your phone across the room at the sound of his voice through your speaker. You’re in the back of a chauffeured vehicle, phone pressed to your ear so hard you swear that your cheek and head are going to hurt later, nursing a bottle of water in your free hand. 
You weren’t expecting to hear from him so soon, either.
“I figured since you are so eager and have so much to say we may as well get this over with. We have an event on Friday night and you will be forwarded the details on location and attire and we are anticipating your donation of over five million yen. It will help many who have been harmed due to your recklessness.”
The blood pulsing in his ears makes the room seem smaller, the walls caving in on him with your words. You’re so adversarial toward him, so eager to bite and nip and bat with your claws out, and he wants to know why. What happened to make you distrust people like him so much? 
Remembering he’s the one who has you backed into a corner, he shifts in his chair and tents his fingers on the desk in front of him.
“I’ll have your check, don’t worry. I won’t let you look silly in front of the fourteen VOHSV supporters you have to impress.”
You scoff incredulously. There is something seriously wrong with this man, his arrogance blinding his common sense. Your fingers ache where they grip into the metal sides of your phone and the driver keeps shifting his gaze from the road to the mirror to see your face twist into varying degrees of frustration and anger. Taking a deep breath, you let your lips curve into a smile and narrow your eyes. 
Focus. You have him where you want him.
“I didn’t realize this conversation was meant for stooping to petty insults but I can’t say I’m shocked. It’s hardly a surprise you refuse to take anyone else’s safety given your own personal record of injured civilians while you’re handling villain attacks.”
Bakugou’s jaw drops and Izuku leans forward to lift the phone from its cradle, pressing the button to turn it off speaker at near record speed. It takes all of his self control to keep from snapping the cord in two knowing it would effectively end the call and thus his opportunity to antagonize you further.
“Well, you aren’t the only one who has done their homework. We pulled a profile on you months ago and know your entire background. You have no relevant experience that would allow you to criticize heroes the way that you do. Put yourself in our shoes.”
You snort from the other end of the phone, impressed by how bad he is at lying. Arrogance has truly won out over any logic this man may have in his entire body and you suck your teeth, jaw slackening because you have truly won this round.
“See, Deku, here’s the thing. If you were telling the truth about anything you just said then you would already know that I am a graduate of an international hero academy. I have been where you are, or at least wanted to be, but then I came to my senses. I used to hope you’d be able to do the same but it appears my faith was misplaced.”
Now Izuku’s jaw drops, his emerald eyes darting across the room as though the words he needs will magically spring forth from the walls. Sadly, nothing happens and he sits there with his mouth agape dumbly. 
“I look forward to seeing you on Friday. Don’t forget that check.”
You pull the phone from your ear and end the call, laughing to yourself knowing that you left this cocky asshole speechless. He mimics your motion in his own office, pulling his desk phone from his ear and placing it back where it belongs. As badly as he wants to be frustrated by the loss to you, he’s impressed by how easily you hit back without an ounce of fear or worry of what you’re getting yourself into.
A woman as beautiful as she is brave and irritating.
He feels his cock stiffen slightly in his sweatpants the longer he thinks about it and frowns, immediately thinking of exploding buildings and grandmas to distance himself from the fact he’s into how eagerly you spar with him.
His assistant and Bakugou both stare at him, his friend laughing and turning on his heel to leave, waving dismissively.
“Like I said Deku, you’re already stupid. Have fun on Friday.”
Izuku’s assistant follows suit and closes the door behind them, giving him time to lick his wounds.
The rest of the week continues like his weeks usually do. He’s called four times to handle villain attacks, each one ending a little less destructive than the last, and Thursday is when he sees you on TV again, smiling brightly on a different talk show in the same time slot you were in on Monday.
He keeps the TV muted, uninterested in what you have to say about the people he saved this week, but he watches your mouth move silently. His eyes narrow every time your tongue darts out, the tip of it wetting your bottom lip and his freckled cheeks heat when your lips twist into that winning smile. 
That damned smile.
This man has made bringing smiles to faces his entire personality since the day he zipped up his prototype suit years ago, vowing on that day to work as hard as he could no matter how bleak things seemed. It worked and it’s what he’s known for, joy and hope and safety the things he strives for the most. 
Watching you smile while calling his character into question makes him simultaneously furious and hard again and he has to cross his legs and imagine those same exploding buildings when you press your lips together on the screen in front of him. 
A knock on the office door captures his attention and his assistant opens the door, clipboard in hand.
“You have a tux fitting for tomorrow.”
Reaching for the remote he turns his TV off and rises with a nod. Everyone knows you have to look your very best for your biggest battles and he has no intention of showing up to meet you face to face looking like anything less than a magazine cover.
He just never imagined you’d do the same yet here you stand, 8 pm on Friday night, draped in dazzling gold silk that hugs every inch of your body. You’re taller than he expected, one long leg jutting from the slit in your dress and elegant neck draped in simple jewelry.
You’re beautiful in a way that TV did little to capture and the arrogant man finds himself speechless when you hold out your hand in his direction, grinning at him. He searches for hidden fangs and finds none, just perfect pretty teeth.
“I wanted to apologize for earlier this week, this organization is my passion and it gets the best of me sometimes.”
Your words catch him off guard so he just nods and shakes your hand. If you notice his sweaty palm you keep it to yourself and he internally chides himself for his nerves. He is the fucking number one hero, his face is plastered on every single corner of Japan, and he needs to remember that. 
“Hey, we all have bad days. I’m just glad to be here to shed some light on a small cause.”
Your smile dims and his widens, your palm quickly leaving his. Heat simmers in your core and you feel disgusted by your own desire. Sure, he’s one of the most attractive men you’ve ever seen - all big muscles that his tuxedo does little to hide and pretty green waves falling over his face but he’s also the biggest asshole you’ve had the unfortunate luck of meeting.
Drawing your hands close to your body, you fight the urge to petulantly fold your arms over your chest, and he digs in his pocket to produce the check he promised. He holds it out in your direction and you pluck it from his hand, eyes widening when you notice that the amount written on the check is far larger than the five million yen previously discussed. 
“Doubled your donation. Very kind of you, Deku.”
He smirks and you feel warm again, cheeks heating in perfect time with your core. Perhaps it’s the glass of champagne you downed an hour ago to calm your nerves or the low lighting of the event space but he is undeniably attractive and you are undeniably attracted to him.
A terrible realization to come to while face to face with a man you called a liar and a fraud four short days ago.
Izuku enters your space and crowds around you, dipping his head low enough that his mouth is just above your ear. He’s bigger than you expected, an entire head taller than you, and you feel overwhelmed by the scent of his cologne and the way he carries himself. He has the demeanor of a man who knows he’s the shit and as much as it aggravates you, it thrills you too, the same heat lashing through your stomach with every flutter of his long lashes.
“Call me an optimist but I think we can still salvage a friendship out of this situation.”
You laugh, shaking your head and clutching the check he provided to your chest.
“There’s an after party starting soon if you don’t have more buildings to go destroy. I’m sure the rest of the VOHSV team would love to thank you personally for your generous donation.”
The hero presses his lips together and raises his brow, blazing green eyes meeting yours. The tension between the two of you is so thick that even the most unaware onlooker would feel it but the room is relatively empty and you’re grateful for it.
“Maybe I only want one person to thank me for my donation.”
Raising a brow to match his, you purse your lips and quickly consider your options. You could give in to the undeniable attraction, a sordid affair with a man you seek to change as part of your life’s work couldn’t possibly be good for optics if you were to be exposed. You could walk away and publicly embarrass him but that doesn’t sound like fun either so you do what you do best - think on your feet and hide your true intentions behind big doe eyes and a winning smile.
“There’s a powder room down that hall, last door on the right,” you motion to a corridor to your left and his eyes follow your movements. “Be there in ten minutes.” 
Izuku nods, moving enough to allow you to slip past him and he watches the way your dress shifts across your ass with each step you take away from him. He isn’t going to bother to be polite anymore knowing what is coming next, his mouth watering at the mere thought of watching that pretty little dress drop to the ground below both of your feet while he uncovers the treasure beneath it. 
His half hard cock presses against the zipper of his tuxedo pants and he doesn’t bother to adjust himself, taking a shortcut that keeps him against the wall and away from prying eyes to the hallway you instructed him to follow. Each step makes his cock throb and he groans when he reaches for the door handle, wondering what he’ll find when he opens it.
Twisting the handle, he chuckles humorlessly when his eyes fall upon an empty powder room. A large mirror framed by lights with a small sink and counter in front of it are all he finds and he shakes his head, eyes falling upon a folded piece of paper sitting on the counter.
Flicking the paper open with his thumb and index finger, he frowns at the words he reads first.
Better luck next time.
Followed by your name signed in delicate penmanship he traces the tip of his thumb over. The ink is still wet and it smears, his thumb marked with black. His eyes trail further down the note and spot your number below your name, the ink the digits were written in still shining.
At least you leaving your number tells him there will certainly be a next time.
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possessionisamyth · 3 months ago
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Not to kick a dead horse, but there is a way to make Pier's death genuinely very loaded and tragic that fandom consensus just seems to continue to miss! I've never seen a take about Piers's death being about PIERS, but all about "ooohh chris lost a good one" and how the two are not able to fuck anymore. But I am going to free you from these shackles while I zero in on Chris' comment of
"I wanted him to replace me."
Surely Piers was being trained to take Chris' job ideally after a decent retirement party, but neither of them get that luxury because Edonia happens, and Chris is gone. The beloved captain has vanished, and the person who's supposed to take his job is right there, so they give it to him. It's Piers responsibility to not only be a face of what the BSAA represents, but also the heavy shackles of expectations are slapped onto him.
Everyone wants Chris, which means Piers can't be himself nor figure out how to run the same jobs his way. No, it has to be Chris' way. There's no time for anyone to adjust and shift gears either with the C-Virus outbreaks, the terrorist attacks from Ada*(Carla), and the search party he shambled together to locate the missing Redfield. So he tries his damnedest to fill Chris' shoes and suddenly realizes just how out of his depth he is. There were so many reasons people called Chris for certain tasks, even tasks Piers hadn't known about and definitely hadn't been trained on, that Piers never saw. There's no mentor to dial. No reference other than fellow soldiers saying things like, "We don't know how, he just got it done," which is the least helpful thing in the world. Hell, there's barely any notes to go through when he searches Chris' office for a semblance of a hint as to how he should do this job.
Maybe it turns out Chris was doing his best to gently ease that heavy mantle into Piers' hands. It's why his scheduled retirement seemed so far away at the time. Perhaps, after one comment too many where he'd been accidentally addressed by the name of his captain for the 50th time, Piers breaks. He can't do this. He's not ready for this. He needs the one person who did all this back by any means necessary, so he drops all the work and joins the search party. He verbally harasses an amnesiac Chris into coming back because maybe it isn't that bad. Maybe Chris just needs a reminder of what he's been doing everyday for literal years and things would be back to normal again.
But it's not. It's messier. It's uglier. This isn't the Chris he worked so hard to fight alongside. There are glimpses of him in there, but most of the time in China, Piers feels like he's working with a stranger. People die, and Chris keeps pushing forward no matter how much he's shouted at, and Piers feels like this is all his fault. The deaths are his fault because he couldn't buckle down and do what Chris originally wanted him to do. Take Chris' place. Replace him. Be better than him.
So when they go to that underwater facility, and their backs are against the wall, there's the looming sense of failure and a terrifying amount of pressure. If they get out of this alive, who knows when Chris would be back in shape to work again if that ever happens. Piers would have to be responsible. He was already responsible for the squad he gathered to take up this job, and they were skewed into pieces around downtown Lanshiang. Take Chris' place. Replace him. Be better than him, and Piers failed on all accounts. He couldn't get Chris back the way he was supposed to be. His squad was dead. The responsibility he'd have to take up if they made it out alive would be nigh unbearable, and then he gets infected.
He gets infected and suddenly the decision is so easy. To let go. To hope for the best. To be the one left behind when he was supposed to be the one moving towards the future. Another glimpse of the Chris that Piers knew is seen, a more confident glimpse wherein Chris does everything he can to try and save him. And Piers smiles when Chris fails. When he saves Chris. When he seems to finally do one thing right after things never seemed to stop falling apart.
It's the last thing Chris sees. That smile and the ever encroaching weight of immeasurable responsibility that'll grasp him tight as soon as he breaks the surface. The weight Piers couldn't take from him, and maybe never wanted in the first place.
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cowboyfromh3ll · 1 year ago
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how about for arthur, john, and charles: your hcs on how each would react to a shyer (not naive) reader who has a crush on him and keeps needing his “help” for various things so she can get his attention, and eventually working up the nerve to be more forward and hopefully pique his interest. who would catch on the fastest? would any of them realize before or after she becomes more forward and how would they react from there? smut absolutely welcome 🙏🏻
HC for Shy!Reader ft. Arthur Morgan, John Marston, Charles Smith
HCs are so easy and fun to write
Warnings: smut
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Arthur Morgan
Arthur did not allow you much time to go and ask for help given his repeated and lengthy absences from camp
But when he was around to help, he put his all into it
No matter how mundane or small it may be, he always made sure to help you until satisfaction. Similar to the way he helps random people around the map, he helps you in the same way. 
But the level at which you asked for help was quite baffling to Arthur, but he never made a comment on it. He would never want to make you feel as though you were somehow less competent at doing things than the average person
He liked the way you would try to strike up conversation with him whenever he was helping you, recounting his travels to you in detail upon request
Part of him wondered why the two of you didn’t just talk more often outside of his time helping you. What he didn’t know is that you were unable to come up with a decent, not-too-forthcoming, excuse as to why the two of you should spend more time together alone 
He probably wouldn’t catch onto that fact too quickly, instead thinking you were just a person who wasn’t afraid of asking for help
He’d definitely think something was up when he realizes he’s the only one you ask
Maybe he’s just a dependable guy? He thinks to himself
But when you ask him to help you go fishing, come to find out you didn’t even have a rod, it was too late to back out as the two of you were already alone down the lake at Clemens point
He felt quite touched when you told him you really just wanted to spend time together, and that you weren’t sure how else to ask
Insisted you be more forward with him to establish a level of comfort between you two, but he still found it quite cute when you would shyly ask him for help
Eventually led to you two becoming very close, noticeably sweet on each other. Even the gang was able to catch on.
NSFW
Even though the two of you had been in an established relationship, your bashfulness did not end.
Asking for help for sexual matters was something you subtly hinted at or wordlessly requested, rather than outright saying it
Arthur himself was a man who needed clear permission, and your hints would be met with crudely sexual questions asking for confirmation
“You wanna have sex? Is that what you’re saying? Or am I understanding this all wrong.” 
His forwardness would have you burying your burning face in your shared cot as you nodded
Arthur was a very perceptive man, so when asking if he was rubbing your clit just right or if he needed to slow his thrusts down, you’d squeak out an embarrassed response
When you wanted him to touch you in a certain place, you’d nudge him in the direction, yank on his hand or hair, or simply just bashfully point wordlessly
Makes sure to constantly ask questions because he knows you’re not very vocal when it comes to self advocacy
Extremely tender and very patient with you, just wants to make you feel comfortable in the end to be able to vocalize your needs
John Marston (my pookie)
This man is as dense and stupid as a bag of rocks
The man himself doesn’t even know what he wants, so figuring out what you want is mental gymnastics on its own
He’s around pretty often helping around camp, and he doesn’t mind taking on the brunt of your chores as well
Doesn’t realize what you’re trying to do so sometimes he turns you down, saying he’s too busy
“Are you really that helpless?” 
He’d stand there confused as you stormed off angrily, only to have him follow you around camp begging for forgiveness
“I ain’t mean that, I’m happy to help you. I’m a fool, honest.”
You’d forgive him eventually
If it’s a more tedious task you need help with, he would get into the zone. Honing in all his attention while trying to fulfill his efforts in helping you as competently as he can
Focuses so much, that sometimes if you try to strike up a conversation about his day, he’ll either shut you down, or be so concentrated he won't even register your question
“Hold on, can you stop talking for a sec? I’m tryna concentrate.”
Would be equally as confused when you huff angrily and turn away while crossing your arms
You realize yourself that John isn’t picking up any hints, so you offer your own help as a form of “repayment” for everything he’s done for you
Is also dense about that 
“I appreciate the help, little lady. Though I don’t see why you’d willingly offer to help to fix a wagon wheel.”
Kinda laughable how oblivious he is
Eventually you have to muster up all the courage possible to ask him on a date to town
Emphasize the word date. Or else he’ll think you just want help with errands or something
Will accept, but won’t shut up the whole time about how sudden this is and how he would’ve never seen it coming
NSFW
Would get very excited if you even hint at something sexual
Much like Arthur, he’d ask for confirmation, but much more enthusiastically
“So you wanna fuck right? Right?!” 
Kinda desperate but who can blame him, you’re equally as horny
Get so caught up in excitement he gets straight to it, has to be reminded to ask questions and check up on you
The one time where you actually feel compelled to tell him things straight up instead of just hinting at it
“For the love of god, slow down Marston!”
He would for a few minutes, then get back to it
Would still be shy with asking, but you get so frustrated with how dense he is you’re kinda forced to
His excitement rubs off on you, so he doesn’t mind at all when you just shove his face between your thighs, that does all the speaking for you
Says shit like “You like that, don’t you?” without actually waiting for a response
Gets very embarrassed when you say no and ask him to do it another way
Charles Smith
This man's love language is literally acts of service
He’d probably end up falling for you in the process of helping you out so often
Will be more than happy to take you up on every request for help
Not only does it make you happy, but it makes him feel good for being able to help someone
Literally thrives off of it
He would be the one to pick up on it the fastest, but he wouldn’t make a comment. He doesn’t want to scare you off by being too forward and therefore curtailing your requests for help
Would be very intimate while helping you
“Hey, come closer to take a look at how I do it.”
You would lean in incredibly close, so much so that you’d be able to hear his breathing
Would sometimes take your hands and make you do it as well
Hands would linger far longer than necessary while helping you
And you aren’t naive! You knew what he was doing! He was flirting with you!
From an outside perspective, it appeared as though the two of you were just sitting around together and flirting rather than doing something to help you
“Like this?” You’d ask, which was followed by a giggle
It was pure self indulgence
He would often approach you himself and ask if you needed help on anything
Other times, he’d ask if you wanted to learn something new, showing you how to make weapons or how to identify certain plants from one another
Some tasks would be found mundane by others, but it was the most entertaining thing in the world as long as Charles was teaching you
You would feel most comfortable with him with asking him out, your question sounding more like a mutual profession of love from one another
NSFW
So so gentle
Much like in your relationship, you’d feel far more comfortable expressing your wants and desires to him
But you still struggle to maintain eye contact while saying it
If you turn your face away during sex he’ll gently cup your cheek and move your head to face him
Can pick up on your body language if you don’t feel too vocal
Will slow down or pick up the pace based on how your body reacts
Your moans are also a good indicator for him to know
Will also ask you questions before and after sex, like your some sort of food critic and you’re giving him feedback on his dish
You guys will probably sit down and have whole talks about your sex life, as embarrassed as it makes you, but he finds it necessary
Guy is a huge giver, in no time, he’ll know your body and what you do and don’t like like the back of his hand
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clone-whore-99 · 10 months ago
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*slides $900 In Monopoly money over*
Got any sub!Tech and Dom!femreader in the back?
Behave
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Sub!Tech x Dom!F!Reader
Rating: 18+, this page is only for adults
Warnings: Dom/sub relationship, restraints, blindfolds, safewords, oral (M! Receiving), edging, teasing, orgasm denial, light slapping, biting, unprotected PiV, not proof or beta read cuz I wanted this up before Tech Tuesday ended LMK if I missed any (✿◡‿◡)
Authors Note: *pockets the money* your wish is my command. Okay, I wrote this really quick and I do hope it lives up to your expectations. I am mainly a sub myself, so it was a fun challenge to write this as a dom instead. Hope you like it!
If you like it, please do let me know by liking and commenting and maybe even reblogging, it would mean a lot to me 🥺👉👈
If you want to, you can also help me by buying me a coffee ❤
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The waiting. The anticipation. Never knowing when or where the next touch was going to come from. That was probably the worst part for Tech… And the most exciting.
Once again, Tech found himself completely naked and sprawled out on a bed. His hands were cuffed to the headboard above his head and his vision was obstructed by a blindfold.
This soldier was completely at your mercy.
Your hand barely caressed his cheek, but it was enough for a visible shiver to run down his body.
“Have you thought about what you did?” Your voice sounded like poisoned bristlemelon. Sweet, but deadly.
“Yes.” Tech replied, his voice restraining to hide his desperation. “And I deeply apologize.” 
Not letting him off that easily, you lightly tucked at his restraints. A sign for him to continue talking.
Tech let out a shaky breath. For such a genius, he could be oblivious at times. But this time, he was certain about what he did wrong. “I am sorry for having interrupted you, my dear. I will do better next time.”
Good. He’s learning.
You got up and walked towards the other end of the bed, your finger lightly tracing his bare skin on the way. “We both know you won’t. But that’s why I am here. Safeword?”
Your hand was inching closer to where he wanted it the most, closer to the inside of his thigh, closer to the only part of him that wasn’t lying down. 
“I won’t need it.” He was trying so hard to hide the desperation in his voice, but lost all composure when you pulled your hand away. With a desperate gasp, his hips shot up from the bed, looking for the much needed touch you denied him. 
You lightly slapped his hip, making him lie flat on the bed again. “That’s not how this works, love. If you want me, I need to know it. Now, safeword?”
“Macrofuser.”
Of course that was his safeword. You smirked to yourself and the weight of the bed by Tech's feet shifted, as you finally settled in.
“Good boy,” You praised, with a kiss to his thigh as a reward. His stiff cock twitched in response, needy and already dripping with precum. 
You had made sure he was all riled up, by the time you cuffed and blindfolded him. And you had made him wait for what probably felt like forever to him, every now and then making small sounds and touches to keep him aroused.
He had been good. Only begged to be touched once, when you used a loud toy near him, to pleasure yourself. He deserved a little treat.
With one hand on his thigh, inching slightly closer to his hard member, the tip of your fingers on the other hand brushed against his shaft. 
This was enough for the clone to let out a loud moan, his hips bucking into the air.
“Easy now, soldier, you want this to last, don’t you?” You asked, your voice a mix of humor and danger.
“Ah yes, apologies.” Tech’s voice was barely louder than a whisper, all his energy and focus was spent on you and your touches.
Your fingers kept running up and down his shaft, not fully grasping and stroking it, but enough to keep him whimpering and needy. Your other hand abandoned his thigh to cup and massage his balls.
The small sounds he made was like music to your ears. You loved this. The genius who never shut up, completely at your mercy. All his thoughts had been replaced by you and his voice turned into an instrument that only you could play so beautifully.
It was hard for you to control your own need, when he was completely displayed like this and his body begging for yours.
Leaning over, you replaced your fingers with your tongue, placing it flat on the base and running it up the shaft, all the way to his head. You ran your tongue in circles around his tip, before completely engulfing him in your mouth.
It was impossible to fit all of him, without choking yourself. He was long and girthy, with a slight curve to it. Every time you sucked him off, it would turn into a sloppy mess - and this time was no exception.
A mixture of precum and spit was running down the part your mouth couldn’t reach, working as lube for your hand, which was now fully grasping and working his shaft.
It didn’t take long for Tech to lose what little control he had left, for his legs to do little kicks in an attempt to ground himself, for his hips to buck him deeper into your mouth to chase his high and for his whimpers to turn into full blown moans.
You let this go on for just a little bit longer, just long enough for his balls to tighten, for him to nearly cum - and then you pulled away.
Tech cried out in frustration, his legs and hips still moving in the hopes of creating enough friction to carry him the rest of the way. Though he felt his high slip away, like sand between fingers.
You waited a bit, watching to make sure he wasn’t actually in any real distress or discomfort. Once assured of this, you patted his thigh to calm him down, while clicking your tongue in tsk-tsk sound. “You know love, if you want to cum, you need to behave.”
“It was a natural reaction, I had little to no cont-”
The sound of skin hitting skin interrupted him, as your hand landed on his thigh in a slap - not enough to truly hurt him, but enough to leave a mark. 
“No excuses,” You ordered.
With a defeated sigh, your genius apologized once more, keeping it short and direct. And with no explanations added to it.
“Better,” you praised, your hand caressing the skin that was just slapped. Then you pushed yourself further up the bed, climbing his slim frame and leaving a trail of licks, kisses and bite marks on your way.
With a last playful bite to his neck, you sighed contently. “Oh Tech, whatever shall I do with you? An exceptional man in every way, and yet you still don’t know how to follow orders.”
A smirk appeared across the soldiers lips, a rare but welcoming sight. “I suppose we just have to continue these lessons, until I do.”
“If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were enjoying this.” You chuckled, as you began lining yourself up with him.
Everytime his head just graced your lips, Tech gasped in anticipation, his whole body stiffened and shivered, waiting for the glorious feeling of being inside of you.
You lowered yourself onto him, throwing your head back in a moan of ecstasy. It didn’t matter how many times you’d experience this, he always stretched you perfectly and hit all the right spots. It was like the two of you were made for each other.
Tech always managed to hit that special spot, deep inside you, that made you see stars in no time.
As you began moving, finding the right rhythm and pace, the two of you moaned in harmony, creating music like no other.
Knowing that Tech wouldn’t last long after everything you’d put him through, you began rubbing rough circles on your own clit and teasing your own nipples, to hurry your own orgasm along the way.
Tech smiled knowingly, feeling your hand against his pelvis, he knew you were working to make the two of you orgasm at the same time. He was also, between moans, stuttering the components to different metals, trying to keep himself from cumming without your permission.
In any other situation, you would have punished him for this, but you were so close yourself, that you were willing to let it go. Especially since Tech was pushing his cock even further inside of you and making it twitch in the most delicious way.
You leaned over and left open mouthed kisses on his neck, before whispering in his ear: “Cum with me, my love.” An order you did not have to repeat.
Tech’s head was thrown back in ecstasy so hard, his blindfold flew off. The groan he let out vibrated through your body, as ropes of his seeds shot deep into you.
The feeling was overpowering for you too, making you bite down on his shoulder to keep yourself from getting too loud. Your hands dug into his skin and he was struggling against his restraints. 
Wave after wave of pleasure shot through the both of you, a seemingly never ending high.
You collapsed on top of him, gasping for air, as his cock began going soft inside of you.
But your job wasn’t done yet.
Reaching up, you freed the soldier from his restraints and helped him put his goggles back on. You placed your hands on his cheeks, caressing them gently.
“How are you doing? You did so well, you were so good. Do you need anything? Water? Food?”
An exhausted chuckle escaped the genius' lips, as he wrapped his heavy arms around you, holding you against him.
“Just let me hold you for a while, okay?” He whispered against your head.
“If that's what you want,” You agreed, resting against him.
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Dividers by: @djarrex and unknown
Taglist: @zoeykallus @the-rain-on-kamino @ashotofspotchka @chxpsi @maulsrightleg @the-sith-in-the-sky-with-diamond @wildmoonflower @nunanuggets @lokigirlszendaya @wholesuhmsstuff @pb-jellybeans @dangraccoon @roam-rs
Please let me know if you want to be added to my taglist (✿◠‿◠)❤
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am-i-the-asshole-official · 8 months ago
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AITA for not saying please/thank you?
So this is an ongoing argument with my roommate. I (22nb) am autistic, and T (55f) has ADHD.
Now to get this out of the way, i do say thank you. I was always taught to wait a moment after receiving something, take a bite or appreciate what you were given for a breath, before thanking someone so that you could add something more to it. My roommate and I both agree that i do say thank you the vast majority of the time, but the problem for her is that i do not say it fast enough.
T often gives me a "tHaNk yOu" while the item in question is still being passed. This seems ridiculous to me as i haven't even been fully given it yet.
In addition, i have the dishes as my household chore, and i do them daily, despite almost never making any dishes myself. I do this to both support T and her diet, as well as contribute to the household that i live in.
T thanks me near daily for doing the dishes. This always seems weird and unnecessary to me, as it is my responsibility. I have told her this. I dont expect to be thanked for doing my own laundry, after all. In return, T gets upset that i dont notice and thank her for taking out the garbage/recycling/compost, to which she is the main contributor to and is under her responsibilities.
As for please: i do say this much more rarely. I think it feels overly preformative and fake, and i typical choose more "would you mind closing my door for me" "if its not too much of a hassle, could you toss me my waterbottle" "id appreciate it if you could preheat the oven while you're in the kitchen"
I think that these work perfectly fine as a replacement. Please just has always felt wrong and fake. No one else in my entire life has ever commented on this before.
Thirdly; T has been upset that i don't respond to her apologies appropriately. After she is snappy at me (due to her emotional disregulation from ADHD) (last time it was because i asked if she was using the oven instead of asking if i could use the oven myself, for reference) there is a 50/50 shot that she will come and apologize.
I dont often accept apologies. Apologies are for the person saying them to get it off their chests, or to make you put it behind them. Usually, ill say something like "it was just one of those days, y'know?" Or "its alright, water under the bridge"
Because i was always taught that apologies came with a promise of change, and T can't (or won't) change how she re-directs her frustration at unrelated things to things ive done "wrong". When she told me the correct response was "i forgive you", i decided to not engage instead of telling her directly that i didnt forgive her (because i am certain she will do it again). (I usually dont engage with her when shes irritated: she never notices and just wants to say her piece so im not being rude here)
She said that i was being disrespectful, "like always", and when i suggested it may be more difficult for me due to my autism, she said that we made plenty of accommodations for me (which i think is false), and that i just needed to do this for her comfort. That please/thank yous were something she needed to feel appreciated and i should be making more accommodations for her.
To me, i feel like she is getting really caught up on semantics and is being a little controlling about it. But maybe its just a boundary? I dont know if i could commit to changing my language for her though, i feel like i will just start forgetting after awhile because it feels so fake. Shouldn't it be better for me to say things genuinely than just for her approval?
AITA for not saying please/thank you?
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