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a-boca-do-inferno · 2 years ago

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trouble with a capital T (tony montana x reader)

summary: (y/n) has an unexpected admirer.

warnings: angst, smut-bit of a size kink? idk u tell me, violence, drugs, abuse, dubcon, blood, swearing, domestic abuse, fluff and a little stalking ig. also tony montana

words: 8.9k

notes: this is toxic asf pls beware when reading it. also reader here is stupid asf for narrative purposes do not be like that irl im begging you. i rly have a concerning taste in men and if someone ever finds this i dont kno any of you <3 enjoy!

There’s this new guy in town who looks like trouble with a capital “T”. Everyone has seen him in person, except (y/n). However, by the stories and theories she hears, the figure of this man becomes even more macabre. Nobody knows his real name. He’s known only as Scarface, which should be an indicator of his perhaps not-so-scary nature, but (y/n) is a bit of a coward, if she’s being honest.

Still, when the girl thinks of him, she likes to imagine he has his own reasons for doing what people say he does. It is a morally questionable service, certainly illegal—considerably inhumane—, yet something inside of her extends this guy the benefit of the doubt. It’s not an uncommon theme in Florida, anyway, selling drugs and whatnot, so perhaps Scarface isn’t of all bad. He is still surely just a man, right? But when she received Elvira’s messages saying there was a shooting in her neighborhood, and that Scarface was arrested for allegedly taking part in it, (y/n) felt a little overwhelmed about her previous considerations. Even if the guy wasn’t the devil like everyone made him to be, he was a criminal. A violent one at that, putting innocent people’s lives in danger, like her friend’s.

She couldn’t go see Elvie that day, but (y/n) told her she’d drop by as soon as possible. Elvira sent some pictures of her neighbor’s window with bullet holes, six of them. The neighbor was a man who lived alone and listened to loud music all day on Sundays. Why anyone would have ordered his death, they had no idea. But then again, (y/n) didn’t really trust men who’d hit on women even after being told “no” a couple of hundred times. It wouldn’t surprise her at all if he was a rapist, or a pedophile, or both. Anything was possible nowadays. The neighbor managed to escape the sniper’s attack and left through the back, anyway, and Elvira said he entered the backyard of her house to protect himself. She was really lucky that by that time, the police had already arrived at the scene and readily took the shooter into custody.

Scarface, according to Elvie’s description, was a short, rustic-looking man. He was white, but sunburned, with a stylish haircut reminiscent of the ‘80s and a shaven face. His eyes were big and dark, with a prominent nose, and there was a scar on his left eye, which obviously earned him the infamous nickname. He walked around with a worn Hawaiian shirt and a white wifebeater under it, the one everybody says he’s always wearing; from the waist down, he had shabby jeans held up by a leather belt and old-fashioned cowboy boots. The kind they used to wear in the Wild West, probably.

The guy was just an almost cartoonish figure, a villain straight out of some children’s TV show. And still, somehow, he was the terror of this city as of lately. Everyone licked his balls in an attempt to spare their own lives. Uselessly, of course, since he didn’t seem to have any real consideration for anyone or anything, except for money. So, it wasn’t exactly a certainty that he wouldn’t kill any of his so-called “friends” downtown, unless they owned something valuable to him—drugs, for instance.

And him being detained now, for the hundredth time that month, wasn’t really a relief, since he would soon be out. Because no one could ever catch him in the act—he was a professional, after all—, his stay in the precinct’s modest jail was only for a few hours. At most one night. Five hundred, even a thousand dollars in bail—or a bribe, in fact—was enough for the sheriff to release him with a faithful promise he would see Scarface again the following week. And it was no sooner said than done.

Nobody knew where he lived. There were rumors his home was in the neighborhood next to (y/n)’s, but it was never confirmed. It also wouldn’t make any difference to know where his residence was. Again: the guy was a professional. Even the mayor licked the floor he walked. But Scarface also had his enemies, obviously. On her block alone there were four or five men who would kill him in broad daylight with their bare hands, if given the chance. She didn’t know the story very well, but it obviously had something to do with settling scores. It always did.

Scarface, the cowboy-boots and burnt-skin, revolver-stuck-to-spine and walk-of-an-insufferable-bastard Scarface, was the greatest example of how the universe does not give any tips. The divine does not send signs. And when it does, it’s a bullet in the head, right in the middle of your eyebrows. Scarface is the universal clue of at least three people a week, but no one recognizes him as such. They’d rather bow to his feet, fearing for their lives, as if the devil had any sympathy in him in the first place. It was a funny paradox. Furthermore, the universe is also a sneaky son of a bitch. So, of course her brother would get into some trouble and end up in jail. And of course he would ask (y/n) to save his ass as she often did.

She quickly turned around the way she was making to the supermarket and parked in front of the station, luckily only a few blocks away from her destination. The girl entered the room in silence and wrinkled her nose slightly at the strong smell of pee and cigarettes coming from the back, where the small jail was. In the waiting room, there were only two men sitting with their heads down and a guard in front of the hallway that led to the detainees.

(y/n) went to talk to the guard and before disappearing, he told her to wait right there. She took a sit as far away from the two ominous-looking men as possible and pretended to be fiddling with her phone. In fact, she was distressed. Despite Manny being known for his little transgressions, he’d never been arrested before, so she had also never been to a police station up until that point. Her heart was pounding in her chest and her fingers were trembling slightly.

The guard finally returned and she let out a sigh of relief. He handed her some paperwork to fill and she paid the bail in silence. While she gave him her signature, loud voices and laughter could be heard approaching in the hallway next to the waiting room. The laughter was undeniably masculine, a deep voice reverberating through the walls of the quiet police station. (y/n) held her breath as her eyes landed on brown shoes touching the floor. She didn’t dare look up and quickly finished signing the papers, going back to her chair while the guard went to get Manny.

She stared down at her phone, her heartbeat speeding up again. The disturbing laughter ceased and the girl heard a rattle of keys followed by another clang. A thick accent thanked someone and (y/n) let out her breath, thinking he was leaving at last, but the heavy boots made their way to the water cooler right next to her. She bit her lip and sighed shakily, still not daring to look up. The way he was standing betrayed the lack of care for his spine, as he was unnecessarily leaning too far back. His loud gulps almost made (y/n) roll her eyes, despite her nervousness. He really looked like he came out of a cartoon with such deliberately theatrical behaviour.

The two men sitting away from her got up at the same time and walked out of the station, leaving just Scarface, another guard who was on the computer, and her. But as she had no luck, a voice called that damn guard and he left them both alone in the waiting room. At that point, (y/n) knew the asshole was just messing around with that glass of water he’d been drinking for the past two minutes. And for that reason, she decided to stand up straight and look at him. There was nothing to fear. She had nothing to do with his drug shenanigans.

The girl was only still hesitant of Scarface maybe trying to do something inappropriate, but she didn’t have time to run when he threw the cup in the trash and sat down on the empty chair right next to her. That man’s sly smile and predatory gaze made her shiver from head to toe. “Mornin’”, he states, his deep voice very close to her ear.

(y/n) turned to look at him and kept her expression solemn. “Morning”, she simply replies, and perhaps it comes out too imposing, because Scarface raises his eyebrows and looks at her with some humor.

“A tough one, huh? Just the way I like it.”

She wants to laugh at his words, but only shakes her head. “Are you fucking serious? You wish....”

“I wish what?”, he grabs her face tightly, forcing her to look at him. (y/n) freezes under his touch and can’t hide her panicked expression. He smiles satisfied and moves closer to her. “Your mama never told you not to talk to strangers, huh?”, she tries to pull away from his grip, but he pushes his fingers harder against her cheeks to the point of hurting. “Answer me.”

“You’re not a stranger, Scarface”, she grins and he lets go of her at last. (y/n) takes a deep breath and clears her throat, checking the time and tucking her phone into her front pocket. Thankfully, Manny’s voice is approaching in the hallway and she gets up, giving the guy a scowl. “I know you think you own this town, but remember you’re still just a guy. Get over yourself.”

“Oh, I know”, Scarface mutters, smirking like she’d just told him a great joke. He stands up and tries to touch her again, but (y/n) manages to avoid it. He then pulls her closer by the waist for a split second, as the guard and her brother appear in that instant. The man lets go of her quickly, and before he leaves, he flashes her a wink, “have a good day, baby.”

She watches angrily as Scarface disappears, caressing her aching face. The girl turns around to find Manny with a sorry expression, and she clenches her jaw. “Let’s go”, it’s all she says, walking out of the station without waiting for him.

♡♡♡

A week after that incident, (y/n) never left the house again. Until today, that is; she only went to her brother’s because he was starting to get a little worried about her confinement. She didn’t think of telling him why she was hiding for protection, because the less her family knew about that crazy drug dealer bothering her, the better.

(y/n) walked out of her car fast so she wouldn’t bump into Scarface on the street by any chance. Although it was pretty unlikely to happen, seeing as he didn’t usually hang out in her neighborhood, but she wouldn’t take any risks. No one besides herself knew what went on in the station and she didn’t intend to tell anyone else. The girl didn’t even know if she should have told anyone in the first place. The guy had this city in his hands. If he wanted to find her, it was a snap of his fingers.

But of course, (y/n) couldn’t run away forever. And the day she decided she’d go to Manny’s without any fear, while she was sitting on the sofa, that damned thick accent came from the front door. She widened her eyes and got up quickly, but when the girl reached the kitchen door, her scared expression met the man’s pleased one. He was smiling at something her brother was saying, however, as soon as he saw her, the mirth on his features was borderline sickening. Still, he visibly tried to play it cool because Manny was there.

(y/n) pretended not to care as she made her way to the bathroom and locked herself there, hands shaking violently. She sent millions of desperate messages to Elvira. The voices continued to chatter excitedly, as if it were the most natural thing in the world to have Scarface at her brother’s place. Like they were buddies.

Suddenly there was silence and someone knocked on the bathroom door slowly, barely audible. Her heart raced and she felt a lump forming in her throat, eyes watering without warning. Another knock. She put her phone away and slowly opened the door, not knowing what else to do or where else to go. The man’s intimidating presence greeted her and a victorious grin hovered on his lips. (y/n) looked into the living room for Manny, but there was no one. He seemed to have left for some reason, and she felt her world fall apart.

The girl stared back at Scarface and he was now serious, examining her body up and down with no shame. “So you’re family, huh?”, he muses, his terrifying voice making her shiver sharply. She sighed and went to sit back in the couch, accompanied by him, who was leaning against the doorway and still gazed at her without blinking. “When they told me you were Manny’s lil’ sis, I couldn’t believe it, baby! But here you are, I guess that makes him my brother-in-law”, he states, content as a child who solves a puzzle. “He told me you live alone, right? I might pay you a visit someday.”

“Right”, she merely scoffs, attempting her best not to show the shift in her seat hearing his words.

He smiles macabre, moving his index finger from side to side in denial. “You don’t talk to me like that, tigress. Let’s start there”, he looks around, making sure Manny’s still not there, and approaches her. (y/n) instinctively pulls away and he grabs her face just like before, forcing her to glance at him. “You don’t talk to me like that. Got it?” She doesn’t answer and he squeezes her cheeks even more, making her let out a groan of pain. “Got it?”

“Got it”, she spits out, begrudgingly.

(y/n) thinks he’s going to let go, finally, but first he gives her an awkward, aggressive peck on the lips. She instantly shoves him and wipes her mouth to somehow undo that contact. Scarface laughs, “you’re so cute, baby.”

“What are you doing with my...”

Manny arrived as soon as she closed her mouth, readily engaging in another conversation with Scarface while ignoring her presence there. They talk about people and places she knew nothing about, it sounded like a bunch of codes, and she gaped at each sentence they exchanged. How the hell did they know each other? What was that asshole doing with her brother?!

Dinner came and Scarface—his name was never mentioned, for some reason, and she wasn’t about to ask—made a point of sitting next to her, but if Manny noticed their closeness, he didn’t pay any mind. They continued talking through the meal and Manolo chit-chatted (y/n) now and then, forcing her to answer Scarface’s falsely innocent and curious questions about what she was talking about. As if he didn’t already know everything about her life, apparently.

After helping clean the kitchen, (y/n) said goodbye to her brother. Scarface watched them silently from the sofa and she tried to keep her focus on Manny. “I have some stuff to do at home now, gotta go.”

“You going alone? It’s late”, he frowns.

She waves her hand to make light of it. “It’s fine, Manny. It’s a ten minute ride.”

Manolo shakes his head. “Even so, (y/n), you know this neighborhood ain’t safe. I can’t take you home, but Tony can.”

So that’s his name.

Scarface—Tony chimes in, not letting her answer Manny just yet, “c’mon, let’s go. I’ll take you.”

“It is not necessary. I literally drove here!”, the girl huffs, already taking the first step to leave.

Manny stops her before she reaches the door. “No, no. It’s too dangerous here at night, you better go with him. C’mon, you take her, Tony. She’s just a little stubborn.”

(y/n) locks her jaw, but doesn’t say anything.

“I noticed”, Tony mutters tauntingly, giving her an ambiguous look that surely only she saw. The girl took a deep breath and surrendered, waving goodbye to Manny as she walked with Tony to her car. They strolled in silence to the garage and as soon as she opened the door of the vehicle, he pulled out a little plastic bag from his pocket, full of a white powder. He pointed with his chin at it, raising the object. “I just made some business with your brother today, baby, no worries.”

(y/n) stared at him confused, but still didn’t say a word. Manolo was really going down an irreversible path, it seemed, and there was nothing she could do about it. With a heavy heart, she could only get in her car and pray she’d make it home safe that night. Scarface followed her and started driving, shooting her a smile or two over his shoulder. Luckily, it wasn’t long until they parked in front of her building. He turned off the ignition and got out of the car with her, obviously inviting himself in.

Of course.

(y/n)’d been trying for a few seconds to open the stuck gate and Tony notices her suffering, helping her to complete the task. She doesn’t thank him and simply walks into the house, knowing he’s on her tail. His eyes burn into her back, but she tries not to focus on it while starting to unlock the door. She is greeted by her cats rubbing against her heels and she smiles automatically. Forgetting for a brief moment that Scarface is there, the girl takes the smaller one in her arms, hugging and kissing her soft dark fur. When she puts her down, the man is watching her with an amused expression.

Her cheeks tingle and (y/n) makes her way to the kitchen, with Tony still following in silence. She pours herself a glass of water and offers it to him next, which he accepts, still staring at her with the same predatory demeanor. He’s going to try to do something ugly to her, obviously, and she is trying not to think about it, but it’s getting harder and harder. If she screams, no one will hear her. Fortunately or not, she has no neighbor on her floor. She makes a mental list of what objects she can throw at his head to make him pass out like in the movies; a brand new moisturizer that is full; a makeup bag; her favorite pan. If she is quick enough, maybe she can lock him in her room and call the police.

(y/n) snaps out of her thoughts when Tony approaches her behind the counter, while she still holds a glass of water. She is staring at his chest when he calmly takes it from her hands and offers her a smile. She tries to hide her trembling fingers from his vision, but he notices them and takes her palm in his, raising it to her eye level.

“Not so tough now, huh?”, he mocks, making (y/n) bite her own tongue so she doesn’t give him a sharp answer and gets punched because of it. He kisses her fingertips softly, catching her off guard. Tony notices her confused expression and grins again, lowering his face to bring it closer to hers. “What, you think I was gonna keep scaring you off? I’m not that bad, baby.”

“If you say so.” She mutters reflexively, regretting it right away when his dangerous orbs fall on her. She sighs and looks away. “Sorry.”

He nods approvingly. “Good girl.”

There is an old gouache paintbrush she could use to pierce through his neck in case it gets bad. The glass pitcher is over the sink. (y/n) looks at the table and there’s a fork and a spoon. The big knife is in the drawer—

Tony lets go of her hand and walks to her room. She listens to the sound of his wooden soles echoing against the tile floor a little astonished, before following him. She opens the door, which creaks imposingly through the empty, closed house, and her heart skips a beat when she hears the mattress shift, indicating he has settled into her bed.

(y/n) is in front of her window to open it, but before she can do it, his arms wrap around her from behind and pull her away from it. She widens her eyes and tries to pull away, however, the grip tightens. She starts to shake more aggressively and an agonized scream leaves her mouth, causing his hand to slam against it, muffling the sound. She looks desperately at Tony and he’s signaling her to be quiet. Panic takes over her body and she gives up trying to get out of his grip. He seems happy with this decision and removes his palm from her lips, laying her body down on the bed and straddling her, legs wrapping around her waist as his knees sink into the mattress.

Her eyes water and she closes them tightly, waiting for the inevitable. (y/n) remains like this for a few seconds, but nothing happens. She thinks maybe Tony has given up on what he wanted to do, however, when she opens her eyes again, his face is hovering over hers. His brown eyes are scrutinizing the girl minutely, there’s not a single vestige of that villainous smile that lives on his lips. She returns his gaze and they stare at each other in silence. His elbows are propped up against the mattress and his hands are still gripping her arms, holding them in place, but with no force.

(y/n) wants to ask him what he’s doing, but the thought leaves her mind as soon as he takes a gun out of his pants. She screams in desperation, “help! Help! Someone help me!”

“Shhh. Hey, calm down!”, Tony puts his hand over her mouth yet again, holding her down so she’ll stop her kicking. She watches, still horrified, as he places the gun on the chair beside her bed. “I’m not killing you, baby, calm down”, there’s a smirk on his features that makes her stomach turn. “Yet”, he adds, taking his palm away from her trembling lips. (y/n) tries to get up, but he pushes her back down. “I ain’t killing you, but I’m gonna do other things.”

“No, no, please...”

She can’t finish her pleas as his full lips crash onto hers, now in a kiss deeper and less brusque than the peck from earlier. The girl tries to resist at first, but soon her body speaks louder and she ends up giving in to the contact. She lets out an involuntary groan as his rough fingers lift the hem of her shirt, almost like an animal in heat. Damn hormones, she thinks in the back of her mind, not really caring for that much when his fingertips send shivers through her skin.

Tony pulls apart so he can remove her garment, smirking at her bra-covered breasts. She blushes terribly. “You’re so cute, baby.”

He kisses her again and (y/n) reciprocates vehemently this time, wrapping her legs around his waist tightly. His lips trace down her neck and she faintly laughs at the little tickle there, making him lift his face to look at her intently. There’s something different in his eyes, almost adoration, but she can’t finish the thought as he unbuttons her pants and unceremoniously pulls them down, leaving the girl in her underwear.

Tony drops to his knees on the bed and shrugs off his iconic floral shirt and wifebeater. (y/n) can’t help but smile seeing his near-athletic pecs and gets on her knees too, silently volunteering to strip him out of his own pants. He watches closely as she unzips his jeans and unbuttons them, sliding them down his toned thighs. Tony finishes getting rid of the piece and goes back to kissing her neck urgently, leaving more aggressive caresses in place. A chill travels her spine when his member bumps into her stomach and she squeezes his arm reflexively, catching his attention.

“You good?”, he asks, sounding so worried he seems to be another man completely different from the Scarface criminal who’s been with her until now.

She simply nods and lets out another moan as his lips descend to the gap between her breasts, leaving sinuous kisses all the way down. He licks at the sweat accumulated there and kisses her again; a salty, icy kiss. A hand finds her face and trails her cheek lightly, while his tongue invades her mouth shamelessly. His touch is so gentle it looks absolutely nothing like the man who bruised her face twice with his brute strength. Tony gropes down her back and unbuckles her bra, making the girl shiver as he grips her nipple. Soon, he pays attention to them with his mouth and she bites her lip so as not to make too much noise. Still nibbling at the sensitive skin on her breasts, his deft hands slide down her panties and her face heats up violently.

He slips two fingers into her without blinking an eye. (y/n) arches her back and blurts out a high-pitched groan, which had him chuckling, turning her on even more as his thick voice vibrated against her nipple. When his tongue meets her clit, the feeling is indescribably divine. She’s now a carefree mess of moans and ragged breathing. Tony’s hands grip her hips strongly, holding back her unconscious thrusts.

He lifted his face again before she came, his chin visibly wet. “Got protection, baby?”

“No”, she lets out an incredulous laugh. “I never did that, I didn’t have to...”

“Right”, he says thoughtfully, as if just connecting the dots now. Tony fumbles in his pockets and doesn’t seem to find what he’s looking for, so he looks back at her. “I got nothing on me either.”

“What now?”

They exchange a silent look and he shrugs, getting back on top of her body. “Now I’m pulling out y qué sea lo que Dios quiera.”

(y/n) is going to protest, but Tony takes off his boxers and invades her without warning, causing her to groan in pain. He soon notices her expression and stands statue over the girl, waiting for her to recover. Tears form in her eyes once again and he leaves light kisses on her cheek, trying to calm her down. She smiles softly at the delicate and unexpected gesture. Soon she’s ready and he starts to move, gradually increasing the pace.

The solemn creak of the bed is the only sound besides their gasping breaths and moans she can’t contain. Every now and then his golden chain hits her chin, however it doesn’t hurt, it’s but a little friction. His big hands are squeezing her breasts as he speeds up the movements little by little. (y/n) looks to the side and sees the revolver on the pink chair, the contrast of that scene making her want to laugh. She returns her attention to Tony and he’s got his eyes closed, mouth open, leaving wet kisses all over her cleavage. He’s dripping with sweat, just like her.

He takes her lips again and only then does she return to the moment, losing herself in her own pleasure and letting the orgasm overtake her without precedent. Next up is Tony, who comes with a husky moan and one last kiss. He lets his body slide off hers, pulling out his cock while his cum paints them both. (y/n) kisses his face after the effect of orgasm and he returns the caress, pulling her into a fairly tight hug. She smiles at the contact and lets him hold her there for a few minutes. They’re silent the entire time, until he pulls the sheet from under the pillow to cover them. Tony and her exchange indecipherable, sinuous looks, and that’s when her penny drops. She just had sex with a criminal.

Jesus.

“This shouldn’t have happened”, she say abruptly, sitting up.

Tony also sits down and shrugs. “But it did. So what?”

“So it won’t happen again!”, (y/n) exclaims in annoyance, not caring that this man has a gun and isn’t afraid to use it at all. “You need to go.”

“Already? You just wanna use me and throw me away, huh? Now that’s cold, baby”, she rolls her eyes at his mockery and stares at the wall as he stands beside the bed, his stuff swaying back and forth. “Hey”, he calls, but she doesn’t answer. He then touches her chin and gives her a lingering, incredibly soft peck. She sighs as Tony pulls away and there’s a gentle smile on his face as he puts on his clothes. “You’re cute, (y/n).”

“Thanks”, she timidly blurts out, not really knowing what to say. The girl looks for her underwear and tenses up as she watches him handle his revolver, placing it on his back again.

He notices this. “I ain’t hurting you with that gun, you know? You can relax.”

“Even if you don’t use it against me, it’s still a weapon”, she mutters seriously, turning her back to him so he can buckle her bra.

He does the task and hugs her from behind, kissing her locks. “You don’t have to be afraid of anything with me, baby, not even a weapon.”

She turns to face him, hugging his waist lightly. Tony gets serious all of a sudden and lets out a long breath as he finally releases her. He checks his pocket and fixes his messy hair in the small mirror on top of the dresser. Before leaving, they exchange one last look. None of them says a word. (y/n) watches him disappear behind the gate and looks around the empty house, returning to her room and closing the door. She stares at the completely messed up bed and the sheet painted by drops of blood and sperm, which they shared for a few seconds, now on the floor. Ha.

Trouble with a capital “T”.

♡♡♡

Two weeks after the incident, (y/n) didn’t go to her brother’s house anymore. But Elvira, being such a pain in her ass sometimes, had practically bullied her into going out tonight. She was anxious, it’d been a while since she went out to have fun like this. Her fear of bumping into Tony—Scarface wasn’t exactly as strong as before, for obvious reasons, but she’d still rather not take her chances in finding him again. No matter how good his dick game was, he was a dangerous individual. Better to stay away.

So, for the record; she fucked a hitman and was most likely falling in love with him, maybe even reciprocally, just after he got violent with her several times. Elvie obviously didn’t know about it yet, but what would she do when that time inevitably came? Because (y/n) was going to tell her, no doubt. She couldn’t keep it all to herself forever, hiding it from everyone like it was some sort of crime. Elvira would probably call her crazy and even threaten to lock her up in an asylum, wanting to choke Tony if it was as much as hinted he laid his hand on her. And she wasn’t even wrong for that!

But what about her family? God, if her father knew... He’d go after Tony’s blood. He would simply never look her in the face again, especially since their relationship was already fragile enough because of Manolo. And what of her reputation? All of Miami would talk about this. She’d be the new bitch on the block for sure. No one would respect her, she’d become a joke. Not that she cared about what those people think of her, but it would be nice to stay anonymous. It was safe, something she hadn’t felt in a long time.

With a heavy sigh, (y/n) finished getting ready and stared at her reflection, smiling faintly. Perhaps it was best to let those corrosive thoughts for tomorrow’s hangover. She grabbed her bag and locked her apartment, walking down the deserted street. As the club was close to her house, there was no reason for anyone to come and get her, so she’d go alone with no worries. It wasn’t like anyone was going to do anything to her on her quiet neighborhood, anyway, much less on the weekend. Plus, criminals in this town had a schedule and they liked to stick to it. At least the ones who grew up there.

Already approaching the place, she saw Elvira with some of her friends waiting for her in the line. They greeted each other and entered the club, going for a table next to the bar. (y/n) immediately asked for a strong drink to try and calm down her nerves, feeling rather unfit for that environment after such a long time away from it. At the first glass, she felt lighter and smiling, pulling Elvie to the dance floor.

They’re dancing and laughing like idiots when a tall man approaches them. He is moving to the song and calmly smoking a cigarette while he watches the girls, eyes glued to (y/n)’s form in specific. She doesn’t hear a word Elvira is saying over the music as she stares back at the guy, so distracted she accidentally knocks over a waiter’s tray behind her, making a huge mess. (y/n) apologizes quickly and starts clumsily picking things up on the floor, while the mysterious guy crouches down and helps her with it. She smiles shyly and they finish fixing everything in place.

She thanks him softly and turns to go back to her table, but he grabs her arm gently. “In a hurry?”, he questions playfully, an amused smile on his full lips.

She blushes. “Oh, no, I was just…”

He shakes his head. “You’re a little shy, I can see that. Let’s put an end to this shyness now, come with me!”, he walks off, dragging her to the bar. “So, what’s your name?”, he asks, signaling for the bartender to bring them two beers.

“(y/n).”

“Frank, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” Their drinks arrive and they make a toast, while she takes a big swig. Frank smiles and pulls her by the waist, taking her by surprise. “Lost your shyness yet?”

“I...”

He attacks her lips before she can finish, leaving a wet, beer-tasting kiss on her mouth. (y/n) has to make a tremendous effort not to drop the beer from her hand, making way for his tongue to explore every corner of her mouth. Frank separates them just to take another sip of his drink and starts kissing her neck. Elvira’s eyes from afar give her a surprised and mischievous look. She flashes her a smug smile, but as soon as she does, her friend’s expression completely shuts down and now it’s one of sheer panic. (y/n) frowns and turns to look at where she’s staring so terrified.

She’s greeted by Tony’s aggressive hands pulling her away from Frank in a sudden movement. He drags her out of the man’s arms, keeping her behind his body. Tony then hits him with his fist. (y/n) widens her eyes with the amount of punches Tony is throwing at Frank and tries to get him off the guy, but he pushes her away. She looks around and people surround them, watching the fight in silence and astonishment, however no one moves a finger to help break it up. Of course. It’s Scarface.

No one would dare stop him.

Frank managed to leave a blow on Tony’s stomach, but he couldn’t dodge another punch to the jaw and fell to the ground, looking dizzy. When she thought Tony would back down and leave it at that, he went over to Frank’s body on the floor and striking him wildly again. She was desperate for help to separate them, but nobody did anything. (y/n) tried to pull Tony away from him and he pushed her once more, only this time she didn’t give up so easily. She grabbed his arm with all the strength of a slightly intoxicated person and made him look at her. The fury in his eyes slowly seemed to soften and he dropped Frank’s semi-conscious body.

Once on his feet, Tony looks around him, menacingly showing his gun tucked into his pants. Everyone scatters like startled ants immediately, without him having to say a word. When they’re alone, he glances at Frank one more time and looks back at (y/n). His anger seems to have returned.

“I wish I done that to you”, he begins, his thick voice making her shiver. She takes a step back, but he grabs her by the neck and pulls her close again. “Lucky for you, I’m doing good lately, baby. So I’m generous, you know? But you both should be fucking dead now.” (y/n)’s hands start to shake and her eyes water instantly at his words, fear taking over her entire body. She tries to free herself from his grip, but he won’t let her. He continues, “you are mine. Ain’t no one touching you but me from now on. Got it?”

“Yes”, she chokes, tears falling down her face uncontrollably.

Tony, however, doesn’t seem to feel any remorse for her deplorable state. Finally his hand lets go of her neck and she takes a deep breath, sobs leaving her throat aggressively. (y/n) gets as far away as possible and before she knows it, she’s running away. He doesn’t come after her, which she mentally thanks. She felt so scared and angry at that moment that she couldn’t think of anything but running, running for her life.

♡♡♡

(y/n) got home and locked the door thoroughly. She isolated in her room and cried herself to sleep. It was dawn when she managed to close her eyes and rest for a few hours, only to be woken up by a loud noise outside the next day. There were loud bangs on the door, nearly knocking it over. Her breath hitched and she made sure to lock the bedroom door. Maybe she could just pretend nobody was home.

Another banging thud, now it sounded like someone jumping on the floor. Then there was yet another furious knocking, this time on the front door. Her stomach turned. A bang on the window echoed in her ears and (y/n) began to cry profusely, sobbing in terror. A crash startled her and her eyes widened seeing the wooden blinds breaking in front of her.

She unlocked the bedroom door in a second and ran behind her apartment, opening the kitchen door as it lead to emergency stairs. Footsteps approached once she managed to get out and run across someone’s yard. She looked for somewhere low enough for her to reach so she could climb, finding a little doghouse in the corner. There wasn’t anybody or anything around, thankfully. However, as soon as she started to take off, big arms grabbed her waist from behind, pulling down her body violently.

She kicked as hard as she could, but Tony wouldn’t let go. He towed her back into her house and locked the kitchen door, dragging her by the arm back to her room. He threw the girl on the bed without any delicacy and looked at her from where he was standing. She continued to cry copiously, all her strength quickly draining away. (y/n) crouched close to the headboard and watched him sit on the far side, studying her in silence.

“Crying ain’t doing you no good, baby.” She turns her face to the wall and he walks in her direction, crawling until he’s next to her. He whispers in her ear, “you can’t win for losing.”

“Shut up!”, she pushes him away, taking Tony by surprise. He looks at her with raised eyebrows, but he doesn’t look annoyed.

He looks pleased.

“C’mon, now”, Tony approaches again, grabbing her chin to make her eyes stay on his. “Now, now you look like the fucking girl I met in that station. Badass baby”, (y/n) tries to pull away, but he doesn’t let her and gives her a forced peck. His stubble scratches her face and she grimaces, dodging and breaking the contact. This seems to irritate him deeply, because in the next second, his palm meets the soft skin of her cheek and the sensation burns. Tony pointed in her direction, warning, “don’t you ever do that again.”

“I do whatever the hell I want”, she spits out, not caring about the consequences at this point.

He gets hold of her neck, glaring. “No. You do what I want, you bitch.”

(y/n) smirks, mockingly. “You think you’re offending me? How cute.”

Tony then slaps her again, this time much harder, and she laughs out loud at his fragile ego. She pulls herself together and faces him again, pretending not to be shaken. Tears have dried under her eyes and she only cracks a half smile, taking in his scowling features. “You men are such a joke, so easy to figure out.”

“Careful, baby”, he says in a warning tone, making her chuckle once more.

“Who do I have to be careful with, you?”, she asks smugly, smacking the hand he lifted to squeeze her neck again. Tony is surprised, although he’s trying really hard not to show it. “You...”, she continues, lightly touching the collar of his shirt. “Who would never hurt me with a gun?”, (y/n) mimics his thick voice. He seems to get annoyed at that and takes her hand away from where it was, which makes her smile victoriously.

Okay, so it’s not so bad having a criminal with a crush on her.

“Shut up”, he orders.

She simply shrugs and brings her face closer to his. Tony places a gentle kiss on her lips and excitement burns inside her as his palm goes straight to her ass, squeezing it. “Hold up, cowboy”, (y/n) mutters, although not really caring about his impatience. “Wanna explain to me what was that about last night?”

“Told you, you’re mine.” He reiterates casually, trying to pull her onto his lap and kiss her, but she doesn’t allow it. Tony frowns again, speaking with a heavy accent, “what is it now?”

“You almost killed the guy”, (y/n) points out. She didn’t want to make him feel remorseful or anything, she knew he just wouldn’t; it was all on her curiosity about the sick psychology in his head. She touches the collar of his shirt again and looks into his eyes, the most sincere she’s been so far, and practically begs, “what do you want from me, Tony?”

Something very similar to confusion runs through his brown orbs, but it’s only for a millisecond, as he looks at her sternly right after. His hands remain promptly by each side of his body, and it makes her a little bit relieved he’s respecting her wishes. It’s a start.

Of what exactly, (y/n)?

“I want you, baby”, he says. His voice doesn’t betray any kind of vulnerability, though his gaze conveys less solemnity than his words. She watches him in silence until her eyes inevitably water. Tony frowns and touches her face quickly, holding her like she was the most delicate thing in the world. “What is it?”

How can he not see? How does he have the courage to even ask what happened? Or are his actions merely impulsive and completely thoughtless, is that it? Does he not know that he was just hurting, hitting her? Does he not know that he was just insulting (y/n) and treating her like a goddamn worthless object? Because the same hands that slapped her cheek minutes ago are now hugging her and stroking her back, as if in an attempt to ease her loud sobs.

She hears his voice in her ear, soothing, kissing her neck lightly. Maybe it’s all a dream, a hallucination in her head as she’s unconscious with this man doing God-knows-what to her. But it is not. His touch is as real as it was the last time, his pleasure intertwining with hers in a magnificent, if improvised, dance. And it’s as real as the first time their lips met, in a sheer display of power and dominance on his part, but which now reminded her only of a caress exchanged between two lovers. A comfort.

“(y/n)...”, his deep voice calls again, however her eyes are glazed over the shattered window in front of her. He lifts her face to look at him and there’s a kind of desperation in his expression, even if it’s held back by pride greater than his own ego, if that’s possible. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“I know.” She hears herself speak, sort of in reflex, since it was true. She knew deep down he didn’t mean to hurt her. Maybe at first, yes, but then... Following that afternoon, a new chapter of this crazy story began to unfold. And they are entering one more after last night.

“It’s true”, he reenforces, and (y/n) really wishes she had the strength to tell him that it’s okay, she understood, but the truth is that she was tired. Sold out. It had been so long since she had slept or eaten anything and she felt her limbs giving up on supporting her body at any moment. “(y/n)”, Tony insists, yet his voice is already a low sound that becomes more and more distant in her mind.

Soon she doesn’t feel anything anymore.

♡♡♡

The first time (y/n) opens her eyes, everything is blurry. On the second attempt, she notices a figure sitting on the chair beside her bed and a dim light coming from the window. On the third blink, she realized she had probably passed out—for how long was her first question, as the sun outside seemed to point at one or two in the afternoon.

Tony was silently watching her as she positioned herself and felt her head almost explode into a thousand pieces. Her throat was dry, an unparalleled taste of shit in her mouth reminding her she hadn’t even brushed her teeth due to everything that had happened that day since she woke up. A sigh escaped her lips and (y/n) closed her eyes again, giving up on her efforts to sit up against the headboard. She felt so weak. Her fingers were trembling slightly and she was freezing to death, even with the sun at its peak and all the covers over her on the bed. She felt dizziness enveloping her body and thought she was going to faint again, but a large, rough, careful hand touched her arm.

Tony looked hesitant, worried, recluse even. His eyes didn’t leave hers for a second and she felt slightly invaded, undressed as his irises watched over her without blinking. She stared at his palm on her forarm and tried to calm down, although her heart hammered inside her chest. “You didn’t eat anything today, did you?”, he asks, but it’s a rhetorical question.

Tony then leaves her alone, not waiting for an answer, and returns with a plate in one hand and a glass in the other. (y/n) stares at the image in front of her and feels like chukling, but she contains herself. Instead, she sits up with some difficulty as he hands her the meal, returning to his rightful place on the pink chair. She takes a couple of bites and a huge relief rushes through her body as the food reaches her stomach. It had been almost a day since she had anything to eat. She didn’t even know how she didn’t vomit her ass off with all the alcohol she had last night.

The girl sipped the juice as she paid more attention to her surroundings. Tony took care of her while she was unconscious and even cooked. He, the hitman who scared even the most dangerous gangsters in Miami, cooked her a stroganoff and made her an orange juice. It sounded like a scene from a sugary romance movie.

“It’s just a hangover”, she finally speaks up, her throat still a little dry.

“It’s not”, Tony turns around and sits leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, looking at her intently. She gazes at her plate and continues to eat in silence, while he continues, “I’m real sorry, (y/n).” If she hadn’t been so tired, she would have spit out her juice in surprise. (y/n) glanced at him completely horrified, as if he had confessed to an atrocity. Tony stays with the same solemn expression, a little less proud now.

“For what?”, a shiver runs down her legs. She didn’t want to be insistent, but curiosity was killing her inside.

Tony, on the other hand, didn’t seem bothered by the question. “For hitting you. And for doing all of that last night.”

“You shouldn’t apologize to me for what you did”, she mutters bitterly.

Tony only shrugs. “I didn’t mean to hit you.” He repeats, and she closes her eyes when all that tangle of feelings hits her chest once more. He reaches over and takes her hand, giving her a pleading look. “I swear I ain’t ever laying a finger on you again, baby. You gotta believe me.”

Her eyes water involuntarily and she holds his hand back firmly, looking at him with a half-broken smile, trying in vain to give him some comfort. “I know”, she begins, voice cracking at the end. “I know, okay? You were angry. I understand.”

Tony scowls and shakes his head. “No. (y/n), that’s no excuse. I shouldn’t...”

“I know. It was wrong, Tony, I know, but you didn’t think straight. And neither did I, actually. It happened, there’s no reason to dwell on it. Everything is fine, really.” She looks into his eyes once more and smiles when he nods after a while, still a little hesitant. The girl brings his hand to her lips and kisses it slowly.

He smiles weakly. “You scared the fuck out of me, you know”, he mumbles, and there’s a hint of desperation in his voice. “I thought I did something to make you pass out. The fear, I don’t know...”

“That wasn’t it. I’m not afraid of you, Tony”, she assured him, since it wasn’t a total lie. When he was just him, without that domineering, abusive criminal side, she wasn’t afraid of Tony. No longer. (y/n) sighs and finishes her meal, setting her plate on the table beside her, feeling considerably better. “Come here”, she extends her arms to him and Tony goes without blinking, hiding his face in her neck and lying with her on the bed.

She didn’t know exactly what that meant. Having sex with a murderer who only mistreated her already wasn’t so understandable, but having some kind of relationship with him? It sounded pathetic in her mind. It’s not like he would even want anything to do with her besides sex, but she couldn’t believe that as the seconds went by and he kissed her neck so softly, apologizing endlessly for his transgressions, mumbling that he would never hurt her again, that she’d never need to be afraid of him again...

Her head was going to explode.

(y/n) looked down to meet his gaze and stroked his hair, smiling like a lovestruck idiot. She just couldn’t believe this was happening—and somehow she did. Because of course she wouldn’t resist for long. Even when she was shaking like a leaf, still she couldn’t fight his caresses, imagine it now that Tony seems so willing to make up for all his mistakes?

“Antonio...”, he mutters, barely audible, making her frown. He gives her a small smile and kisses her, mumbling against her lips, “my name.”

“Really?”, (y/n) asks in disbelief, since now she was probably the only person in town who got that information, but Tony seemed more than comfortable sharing it with her.

He’s still looking at her with the same little smile on his face. “Really. Why?” He lifts his body to rest on one arm, staring at the girl with some amusement.

She grins and kisses him again, leaving several pecks on his stubble. “For nothing. It’s just a really nice name.”

Her eyebrows dance and he laughs, making her insides melt at the sound of his laughter. It was the first time she heard it and she didn’t want to hear any other sound for the rest of her life. It was such a full 180 from the big, bad Scarface.

(y/n) knew “I want you” was very far from “I love you”, but that knowledge didn’t stop her heart from skipping a beat whenever she remembered those words. Besides, even if the latter was the case, it was just never going to be that simple with Tony. She looked at his sparkling brown eyes and let out a deep, dreamy sigh. She was down hard for that dangerous, dangerous man, yet there was nothing but softness inside of her as he held her into his arms. What he did away from her could be as ugly as it came to be, and it still would never compare to how warm she was in his presence—be it for the anger, for the lust or for the comfort he made her feel. So, it was fine. She could handle it.

She’s always been a bit of a troubleshooter, anyways.

#scarface #tony montana #scarface x reader #tony montana x reader #tony montana imagine #al pacino #al pacino x reader

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elmundodeflor · 8 days ago

Text

This wasn't supposed to happen, he tells himself. He shouldn't be doing this, he repeats, — and it seems like it's the tenth time he's said that ever since they've left the house.

It was Connie the one who had shrunk half of the Ambassadors' suit-uniforms, anyways. Why couldn’t he be here, then, instead of him? All he wanted was to spend his day off lazing in bed. Maybe, even revisit his long-forgotten sketch-book for a new draw.

But not this.

"I was covering up for your hangover ass!", Connie had said, in his own defense. And it was true. Back in headquarters, they had equally divided the list of chores between all of them. Armin cooked on Mondays, Reiner made the beds on Tuesdays and he did the laundry on Wednesdays.

Still, it wasn't his fault that Pieck's pair of trousers looked like those of a toddler's. At least, not directly.

"Jean.", she calls him out of his train of thought. There's a suit pastel yellow dangling from the hanger between her hands. It's bundled up with a white shirt and a matching pair of pants, all too colorful to use at any diplomatic meeting. "What do you think of this?"

He furrows a brow. She can't possibly be serious, — and yet, the look on her face tells him that she totally is.

"Well...", he starts. If there's anything he's learnt during his time living with the Ambassadors, is that Pieck is never afraid of having fun with her fashion. Sometimes, he recalls, she'll wear pineapple-stamped blouses around the kitchen. Others, it'll be the neon-pink socks peaking from under her long, pleated skirts.

"I guess that'd be a great choice if we wanted to look like a duck's thrown up on us..."

She rolls her eyes at him.

"You're a boring-ass man, Kirstein."

He shrugs, and stares at her for a moment; — the triumphant smile that brightens up her features. The spider-web earrings that show through thick, black hair. It amazes him, really, how irremediably different they are. He’s all slick-shirts, shiny shoes. She’s the type to throw some sneakers underneath her dresses.

"I've been told worse.", he says. And that is true, as well.

Pieck chuckles, then puts the suit back to where she’s found it. She looks ridiculously tiny, floating around the shop in her green, wide-legged trousers. Jean knows, right as he watches her again, she’s an enigma, sure enough. A five-foot-two paradox he can’t quite figure out just yet.

He shakes his head. The boutique Armin's sent them to seems awfully empty for a week-day afternoon. There are roads of folded clothing to cover up the walls, gowns neatly placed by size and color. Normally, they'd have a tailor do this for them. But with the new peace treaties incoming, they had no other choice than to run in emergency.

He takes a grey suit from the hanger, feels the softness of it between his fingers. He remembers the first time they'd been in Marley, back when hope was intact and the world was new. It all appears to be a distant blur now; a gleaming daydream lost within the alleyways.

He’d actually worn something similar to it at the time, he figures. They’d been shopping with Levi and Hanji the week before departing, and it’d been quite the adventure. They'd acted like an old pair of lovebirds, he tells himself now, looking back on it. They'd pick up outfits for Armin and Eren, — call out Sasha for spending her loan in food instead of clothing.

“What about this one?”, he shows Pieck, then.

She makes a face, but ends up giving him a small push, up towards the dressing rooms, after.

“Off you go!”, she says, as she takes a suit that matches his, and disappears behind the curtains herself.

Jean can’t help but roll his eyes. If there’s any other thing he’s learnt about living with the Ambassadors, is that Pieck’s weird, — hard to read as letters carved on stone. It’s not only because of how she dresses, but also due to everything else. Truth is, she’ll make odd noises when she laughs at Reiner. Put cheese between two walnut cookies and call it a day.

“Well, didn’t I tell you we’d look killer with thi—?”

He stops himself.

Outside her dressing room, she stares back at him, — makes a little pose in front of the full-body mirror that they share. She wears a white, simple blouse, tucked inside a long, grey skirt, that she’s paired with a plain linen blazer. She’s utterly gorgeous, achingly delicate and elegant, there— standing under the stage lights.

It takes a minute or two for Jean to regain his composure.

"Meh,", she shrugs, but it’s just to poke fun at him, at last. "I'd say it's alright for someone with such a boring taste."

He bites his tongue. If a single glance could kill, then, he swears, Pieck Finger would be dead and buried. She turned out to be quite the expert at getting on his nerves, after all.

"So, how you’d make it better, huh?"

She says nothing. At least, not at first. Instead, she spins through the store and goes to the tie-section, — grabs one that's navy blue.

"Hm", she holds it up next to Jean's face. The bright spotlights cast a golden sheen in her hair. Make it seem as though her eyes are fresh dew on an early morning. "Guess this one could go."

Jean raises a brow at her, but doesn't really reply, whatsoever. She's gotten close to him now, — so much so, he can count the specs of violet that dapple in her irises. Name the tiny freckles that dot over her cheeks, and that he'd never even noticed were there before.

"You really think so?”

Pieck nods, then gets up on her tip-toes.

"Yeah", she wraps the tie around his neck, first. It's a funny image, Jean thinks, as she tries to make up a knot — her stretching up, while he has to crouch down for her to reach him. To be fair, he has to be thankful that they're the only two people in the store at the moment. "I genuinely do."

He goes back to looking at her. He can feel the warmth that oozes from her body. Sense the trickle of her fingers against his neck, his shoulders. She’s beautiful like this, — cute, even. Her hair’s a mess, her eyes are drooped and tired. But she smiles at him like she doesn’t have a care in the world. Touches him as if he was made of the thinnest of glass, way too fragile for her clumsiness.

It is nothing like the first time that they saw each other, he notices. Not only because she was in her Titan form, but because he’d thought, then, that her hands could only be made for killing.

“Hold still, idiot.”, she laughs at him, and Jean straightens himself up. He sees it as fascinating— that her knuckles are all caked-up in battle-scar. Her palms are rough, baked in pink linings that turn gold under the sunset. But something soft can bloom from under them, —something tender. It’s in the way she holds him, with such care, — like he’s precious. How she tickles him in the tiny spot behind his ear, plays with him like they’re kids.

“Pieck…”, he sighs. His hand brushes a black lock off her face, — does it in a way that’s slow and delicate, as if time had stopped, right there and then. Matter-of-fact, he doesn’t even know why he’s done it, or when, — just that he felt like it. That his body acted on its own, without ever warning him of what it’d do.

She smiles at him.

“We should…”, she stutters. The bridge of her nose is flushed of a light shade of rose. Her cheeks scorching, twinkling beneath the afternoon-hours. “We should get goin’…”

Jean nods, but doesn’t pull away, at last. Pieck’s hands are on his neck, locked in around the tie, still, — his are on her hair. It’d been too long since he’d last felt like this, — as if his heart could jump, do flips inside his chest. If anything, he finds that, maybe, her palms build things back to life, as well. That they’re not only meant for destruction, but are capable of love. Of holding him like he’s broken, and they’re there to put him back together, after all.

“Yeah, right”, he says, finally, after a second or two; a small smile pulling from his lips, too. “I guess we should.”

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igotanidea · 2 years ago

Text

Hoodies and sneakers : Jason Todd x fem!reader

@mxtokko asked me to make part 2 of my ff Beneath (Jason Todd x fem! plus size reader). This is sth that may or may not be treated like this. @jasontoddsthickbabe - I take the liberty of tagging you since you were the one who requested previous part.

Summary: Y/N may (or not) have got through her size complex, but something new is creeping in. Something about her wearing tomboy-like clothes and not being feminine enough......

It was pretty rough day. Not because of work or the intensity, but because of late Y/N has been spending a lot of time inside her own head. Dealing with her thoughts and demons that seemed to feed of the smallest piece of insecurity and doubt. It was getting harder to deal with them and focusing on work was becoming impossible. How could she possibly concentrate when the world was going crazy before her eyes and she was slowly loosing grip of who she was and what was her place on Earth.

She was really better and sort of lighter before Jason confessed how he felt about her and they started building a relationship. Before that, she was fairly aware she was not an object of desire and therefore never focused on that. But now…. More often than not she was wondering whether she was the girl she was supposed to.

The problem was, Y/N was always the kind of girl who felt best in leggings, or even sweatpants, and hoodies. Messy hair, lack of makeup and domestic vibes were definitely her style. She was rocking sneakers, using bus instead of cab and never cared about the brand. This was fine, before Jason turned her world upside down. And now? Irony being that when she became the girlfriend the world started overflowing her with the images of hot girls in tiny dresses, feminine-like with perfect hair, painted nails etc. Real girlbosses. And that was only feeding her fears.

However, she was doing her own thing, not showing how she felt inside. It was working for a while, but after a few weeks she was getting more and more sad and frustrated and the time bomb was ticking in the stepped-up pace leading straight up to explosion.

Since Y/N was still working as a journalist in Gotham biggest newspaper and considering her part-time job as Wayne tech expert she was spending a lot of time working remotely, from the manor. Sometimes it was just too much dealing with the colleagues, but of course, from time to time she had to show in the office. For a debriefing for example. She never treated those differently than any other work day, so she was not prepared for what was coming for her.

“Wait. What do you mean photoshoot?” he eyes grew wide at the sight before her. All those professional photographers, cameras, lights and photography equipment got her head spinning

“Oh, Y/N. didn’t you get the e-mail? I sent you all notification a couple weeks ago….”

“E-mail. Right. Of course I did. I just….. forgot to open it.” In fact, when she saw a message entitled “Sitting” she just deleted it without opening. Grave mistake.

“Don’t worry about it, dear. I bet we can find some more appropriate clothes for you. The girls can borrow you something. You surely cannot show yourself in this.” Her boss pointed out towards her worn jeans and a simple, basic black T-shirt.

“I don’t think anything will fit me…..” now, the plus size complex started to creep in. Great. She felt sick. Again.

“Are you all right, y/n?” her work best friend came from behind and quickly realized what must have been happening inside her head.

“I’m fine….” She swallowed strenuously “I think I;m just gonna sit back and watch.”

“But….”

“It’s all right, I swear. I was never a fan of showing off after all. But by all means, you go ahead. It’s your time to shine.” She pushed her friends towards the other girls, who were just flawless. Showing off, smiling, teasing and flirting. High heels, office looks…. Y/N felt like a preschooler amongst the confident, beautiful women. She never get to feel like this. She never needed to be on the spotlight. So why the fuck did it hurt so much. Knowing that she would never look so hot and mature. Jason told her he loved her (yes, he finally used those words), but what if was just a toy? A way to kill time before he found someone better? Hotter? Sexier?

“Not again….” she whispered as her heart started beating rapidly due to all the projecting she was doing.

“Y/N? Are you familiar with the photo equipment?” one of the snappers asked

“Yes! Yes I am. Do you need help?”

“Um…. I do. But are you sure you don’t want to pose with….?”

“NO! I mean, no, I’m good. I’d rather give you a hand……please…..”

“You sure….?” The guy was still hesitant. Why the hell did he ask her if he was withdrawing now. “You don’t want the attention?”

“I’m good behind the scene. Now, give me that.” She practically whipped the camera off his hands “what do you need me to do?”

So she spent the day acting all cool and goofy, assuring everyone she was fine. Even if all her coworkers knew that was a lie, no one found any words to convince her to join the session as a model, not a helper. All that situation left her with the bitter taste of not being worth the attention. How could she ever compare? She could count the times she wore a dress on the fingers of one hands and even then she looked like a kid dressed up in her mother’s gown rather than a grown-up women she was. This was a disaster every time. So maybe she was not worth any attention?

With dark thoughts she came to the manor. Normally she would tell everyone to fuck off and leave her alone, but Dick was quite persistent, trying to bribe her with some new tech ideas Bruce came up with and with which he needed some help. So, despite her attitude she changed her plans of sitting in front of Netflix with some ice cream.

“Y/N!” Dick opened the door, beating anyone else in it and hugged her closely in welcome “you look sad. Is everything all right?

“Peachy” she muttered, looking like a storm cloud “where are those new gadgets?”

“Straight to the business, huh? How about we try to wipe that frown off your face first?”

“Listen to me very carefully now, boy wonder. If you don’t cut on your sunshine and rainbow attitude I swear I’m gonna shove your smile up your ass. See who will be wiping what then.” Dick’s eyes widened in surprise. Y/N was known for being fast talker and having harsh tongue, but this?

“Um…. All right, then…..” he muttered “let’s go to the cave. Guys are already there.”

“All of them?”

“Yes? Why? Does that bother you?”

“No. I’m actually glad. Plenty of people to pick up the fight with.”

“Y/N, are you sure you are ok?”

“I swear to god if one more person ask me this question today I will draw blood!” she exclaimed making Dick jump away and raise his hands in surrender. Shit, she was more angry than Jason when he first came out of the Pit. Grayson had a bit of experience with angered girls and knew well enough this was no joke. It was better to just keep his mouth shut. Perhaps, Jason or Tim would be able to calm her down, but he’d rather live some more. “Now, move Grayson! I don’t have all day!”

“What’s with the sad face?” Tim asked the second she walked through the entrance to the cave

“HOW ABOUT WE FOCUS ON THE TECH!?” Dick chimed in, before Y/N could answer meeting with a surprised (Tim), condescending (Damian) and amused (Jason) looks of his brothers. He exhaled deeply. “That’s why we are gathered here, right?”

“Damn it, Grayson. You sound like you were about to officiate a wedding. Should we know about something?” Damian smirked and looked at Jason and then at Y/N, who was now red like a tomato, clenching her fists. “Um…. Y/N?”

“Can. we. Just. Focus. On .The .Work” she hissed through clenched teeth moving towards the table where the tech was displayed, the boys moving out of her way. Even Jay, who usually had his ways of making her chill now just let her pass, his mouth agape. None of them has ever seen her this angry.

“What did you do to her, Dickhead?” he hissed towards his brother

“Nothing. She came here like this.” Dick tried to defend himself

“Can you two just shut the fuck up!?”

“Sorry Y/n.”

“Yeah, sorry, babe. But if you want to talk then……”

“SHUT UP JASON!”

“All right, all right, I’m gonna be quiet from now on…..” he mumbled, looking down, acting like a beaten dog. Normally the rest of the boys would laugh at him for being like this, but at this point even Damian knew better than to mess with the force of nature Y/N became.

There were silence for like five minutes, before Steph and Cass entered the cave, followed by Babs.

“Y/N!” Steph jumped forward and hugged her friend, causing boys to go through a little heart attack “Alfred told us you are here. It’s wonderful. We are going shopping. You need to join us. I saw this cute little outfit that would be just perfect for you. I bet Jay would like you in it and …..” oh, poor Steph did not get to finish

“AGH!” Y/N yelled at the top of her lungs. “I’M DONE! I’M OUT! JUST LEAVE THE FUCK ALONE!” the tears finally started to fall down her face, since she was not able to hold them back anymore “I just can’t…. I can’t …. I’m sorry guys….” Her voice broke and she rushed off the cave blindly, not caring about the gadgets, the scene she was making, the tears or anything else. She felt like she was suffocating when she run upstairs, towards the manor, further away from all the people.

“What…. what just happened?” Babs stuttered “what the hell did you do?” her accusatory gaze landed on each of the boys separately

“I did nothing!” Tim exclaimed “Ask you boyfriend, Oracle!”

“Dick?”

“Oh, come on. Why do you always suspect me? I had nothing to do with it. Jay is supposed to take care of her so….”

“Speaking of you, Jason. Why are you still here?! Run after her, before she does something stupid!”

“Do you think she can…..?”

“Just go, you dumbass!”

“Oh, yeah, right.” He slowly threw his shock off “Oh, fuck! You’re right! Y/N! Y/N, wait!”

‘Did I say something wrong?” Steph gaze was fixed on the floor, her voice barely above the whisper “I did not mean to…..” Cass just took a step forward and put a hand on her shoulder reassuringly.

“You didn’t. I bet she just had a bad day or something like that…. She’s been nervous and stressed for a while now.”

“Guys” Babs was already searching through the web “I think I know what might have caused it.”

***

At the same time, Y/N was sitting in her favorite spot on the manor roof, slowly calming down. Legs bend and hugged to her chest, chin resting on the knees, hands hidden in the sleeves of her sweatshirt. She was a bit ashamed of the scene that she caused. Poor Steph was probably blaming herself now. Poor Dick who was verbally attacked by her. Poor Jason who….

“Safe to enter?” …. who was just slowly moving towards her, cautious of every step.

“Sure…” she muttered, not looking at him.

He plumped on the floor next to her, legs crossed, not saying a word, waiting for her to start speaking, But the second she opened her mouth to let it all out her phone chimed. The message she received contained the photos that were made barely a couple hours earlier.

“Well, that was fast…” she muttered rubbing her eyes, irritated from the crying.

“What happened? Who do I shoot?” Jay asked using the opportunity of her distraction and grabbing her hand in his.

“Possibly me.” she smirked “I did some stupid things today.”

“Really? Stupid?” he smirked “I bet no one noticed. You act so normal.”

“You’re an idiot” she cuffed his arm and chuckled which made her hiccup

“Then we match each other, right?”

“Don’t push it, Jaybird.” She warned moving closer and leaned her head on his shoulder, his arm automatically wrapped around her waist pulling her closer shielding her from the wind. It was cold and he did not want her to get sick.

“If I do I give you permission to push me off this roof.” He laughed kissing the top of her head “Tell me what happened. Seriously Y/N. As much as I love you with all that fire we need to put it out before it burns you.”

“It’s better now…..”

“No. Talk.”

“How about I show you?” she reached for her phone and presented the photos to him “you see that?”

“A photo of your work friends?”

“There was a photoshoot at the work today and…..”

“So where are you in this picture?” he frowned taking the phone from her hands and blowing the picture up. “what did you do?” the girl mumbled something inaudibly “Y/N? I can’t hear you. What. Did. You. Do?”

“I hid.”

“What?! Why?!”

“Oh, come on, Jay…..”

“Don’t tell me it’s because of your size, again. We’ve been through it.”

“It’s not about the size. “

“Then what.” he tightened his grip on her and she winced “I’m not letting you go until you confess.”

“I’m not hot, all right? I mean, look at them. They are all exceptional. And I’m wearing a hoodie, torn jeans and sneakers, Jay.”

“So what?”

“So what? Are you serious?”

“Yes, I’m serious. What is the problem with your clothes?”

“I…..” she hesitated for a while, blinking in surprise “but …..” how was she supposed to put in into words “isn’t that what all the guys want?”

“Meaning?” he narrowed his head. This bastard knew exactly where her words were heading and yet did nothing to make it easier.

“A girl who captures attention? Don’t you want to brag about catching a babe? A chick? I don’t know…. Don’t you wish to have a lady in the street and a freak in the sheets? I’m not like this.I am totally average. Vanilla. Boring. Ordinary. “

“Baby….”

“Look, I’m fully aware I’m not the person who catches attention, all right? Not… looking like this. Sometimes I even believe your family pities me. And you too. I mean, have you seen the girls that were lining up to talk to Dick and you at the latest gala? Isn’t that what you want?”

“Will you just shut up?” he leaned to her and cut her race of though with the most gentle and delicate kiss that got her melting on the spot “Come here.” He twisted positions slightly, pulling her on his lap, grabbing on her hips while her hands locked on his neck. “Have you lost your mind?”

“Is that a tricky question?”

“Obviously. Let me rephrase it then. You did lose your mind. Do think you are undesirable?”

“I….”

“Do you think I would toss you away because of a girl wearing mini skirt? The girl that I don’t know? Do you have so little faith in me?”

“In men, in general.” She bit on her lip and hissed when Jason pinched her side “Auch!”

“Well you deserved it for having such silly thoughts. You read too much fanfiction.”

“I don’t….” she objected turning red.

“Don’t deny it. I know you do. Look, all those stories? They are highly overdrawn. They make girls believe than guys only want them if they are skinny, flawless and wear nothing.” He shook his head ”I don’t mind lingerie, but that does not mean I don’t love in you in that damn hoodie you mentioned. Or a simple T-shirt. Preferably mine.” He smirked ”Look Y/N, I know you don’t feel comfortable in dresses or anything like that and I don’t mind. You are the hottest to me when you have that spark in your eyes, when your hair are tousled because your mind is racing. I love you in trainers, when you run the streets searching for a new story. I would never, never want you to wear mini or an revealing top if it’s uncomfortable. Did you think you can only capture my attention this way? With thong and lack of bra? That I would fall for an exposed body?”

“I…..” she started but realized something “Wait. How do you know so much about fanfiction, Jay?” she grinned. Darn, she was so going to use that in the future.

“Did you? Yes or not?” he didn’t even stutter, keeping his cool.

“Yes.”

“Auch!” he gasped “Really?”

“I’m sorry. I just got insecure….”

“I know. And I forgive you. But only because I love you, you silly one. And because I know a lot about insecurities. First handed.” he kissed her nose gently “Now, promise me, this was the first and last time you doubted yourself.”

“I don’t like empty promises.”

“Well then you leave me no choice but to make you….” once again he captured her lips in his, ready to be convincing her for the rest of the day, evening and even the rest of his life if needed.

She was his one and only.

@pinksirensong

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jawritter · 2 years ago

Text

My Brother’s Keeper

Chapter 4

Summary: Y/N, Sam’s roommate, so far have a pretty good thing going. Both work and function around one another well. What happens when his big brother comes down for the holidays with his mysterious past, mixed with Sam’s own mysterious previous life? Can Y/N and the grumpy older brother find a way to get along? Or will it be a not so happy holidays at the Winchester house?

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Plus Sized!Reader x Sam

Word Count: 2k

Prompt: Photographer AU

Written for: @spnchristmasbingo

Rating: Mature (because of future chapters, this story is 18 + only, and not fit for minor consumption.)

Warnings: It’s getting warmer... Inside at least...

A/N: This is the first Christmas fic I have written in a long time! You guys will get this one real time, and I hope to finish it before New Years! Fingers crossed! Anyways, This fic is unbeta’d, so all mistakes are my won! Feedback is golden! My work is 18+ only! No minors! Thanks so much for reading!

Main Masterlist

Your POV:

"Oh my God that's fucking terrible," Sam coughed as he sat the clear glass tumbler down on the well-worn coffee table on front of him and held his hands up in surrender.

"The two of you are fucking nuts, how do you drink that shit?" Sam questions as Dean and Y/N collapse back onto the old, well-worn sectional in a fit of laughter.

"Well, you did make Sammy," Dean chuckled as he sat his own glass of eggnog down next to Sam's.

"Also," Y/N chimed in just after swallowing down the rest of the contents of her glass. "I think it's safe to say I murdered my liver years ago and I'm just living on borrowed time anyway."

"You and me both," Dean's agreement came from the couch behind her as she made her way over to place what she was sure was the last glass ornament on the Christmas tree that now stood proud in front of the bay windows in the living room.

"Well, this has been fun," Sam announced with the sudden clap of his hands on his jean clad thighs, "but I'm gonna turn in for the night."

"Oh come on lightweight?" Y/N teased, knowing good and goddamn well Sam could drink her under the table. She just liked to yank his chain.

Dean cackled at what surely was Sam's famous disgruntled puppy expression.

"Tomorrow, me, you, Dean, whiskey poker. I can drink you all into alcohol poisoning," Sam said, making a pointed poke at each warm body in the room before stalking off to his room to retire for the evening.

"Night bitch!" Dean called over his shoulder just as the bedroom door closed, and if she wasn't mistaken, she could have sworn she heard a muffled, "jerk" come from behind the door.

Y/N was suddenly made very aware that she was found, once again, alone with Dean. It only took microseconds for the anxiety that Sam's horrible eggnog had chased away.

"Well, it's after midnight," Dean said as he got up to pour himself a good three fingers of scotch that Sam had left sitting just above the mantel. "So I guess we can't bust his balls too bad until I drink his ass into the ground tomorrow."

Dean turned and smiled at her. It wasn't a great, giant smile; one she was certain would light up the room if he'd done it. It was just a simple smirk, but it sent a warmer feeling flowing through her vain than any whisky she'd ever drank.

"You're not gonna turn in on me are you?" Dean questioned suddenly. "Come on, stay up for a little while with me. We decorated this dn tree, might as well stare at it for a while."

As if to add emphasis to his request, Dean reached next to him and patted the couch where he'd sat, and she was pretty sure the blush on her already Alcohol flushed face was enough to outshine the Christmas tree. All that aside, and completely out of character for her, her feet complied to his request, mostly without her permission.

She generally sat down on the couch, sure to keep a cushion's distance between them because as attracted to him as she was, and as nice as he seemed to be, she still had a lot of unresolved trust issues from her past, and now they were alone.

"Tell me a little bit about yourself Y/N, seeing as Sam decided I didn't even need to know you existed until now," Dean requested, his thick fingers expertly spinning the glass that sat perched on his knee, something that if she was careful of, she might be completely entrapped by, and unable to focus on the conversation, so she blinked, and forced herself to look away; even though she really didn't want too.

"There's not really all that much to tell," she admitted. "I grew up here in Detroit. Went to business school to learn how to be a secretary because I've always liked to keep things somewhat organized. Covid hit, and I ended up here. That's pretty much it. I've never traveled all over like you and Sam, my life has been pretty boring."

"Boring is a matter of perspective," Dean offered with a shrug. "I would have given anything for that kind of stability in my life."

Y/N looked at him as if he'd lost his mind, but there was a look on his face that told her he was telling the truth. A story in the lines and creases and scares there that was beginning to be told, and damn she would love to hear it.

"How much has Sam told you about our family? You know? Life before he came here?" Dean pressed as a heavy silence fell over the room, and Y/N shook her head as her eyes diverted back to the tree in the room.

"Not much really, and I never asked because I never wanted to pry," she admitted.

Dean nodded, his eyes trailing over her face.

"Dad was uhm… let's just say… in extreme pest control for sake of time. We traveled all over the country, helping people get rid of things that shouldn't be there. Anyway, it was always a different school, different town. Sammy hated it, and I hated it for him. I wanted him to have normalcy, and when dad passed, I spiraled a bit, but Sam stuck with me for a while…."

Dean's words trailed away, and Y/N desperately wished she could see the things he was seeing, the pictures and memories his mind were painting for him, but he didn't let the moment linger, instead, he cleared his throat and continued.

"Anyway, traveling isn't all it's cracked up to be. I'm glad he has this now, has a friend here with him. It's good for him whether he believes it or not. He calls me bullhead, but he's just as bad sometimes."

"Well, what about you?" She pressed, desperate to learn all she could about the handsome, green eyed man that sat Meer feet from her. The more they talked, the easier it seemed to be. It was strange to her. "What have you been doing since Sam's here now?"

Dean grimaced a little, and she was afraid she'd taken it a step too far in her questions, but to her surprise he answered.

"Now that is a boring answer," he admitted with a chuckle. "I'm a forty-four year old Private Detective that lives alone with a 3 year old rescue dog. I get up, go to work, come home, drink, repeat."

She had never wanted to reach out and hug someone so badly, but she behaved, instead she just got up, and made her way over to pour herself another drink when she heard the distinct sound of a camera shutter behind her, and turned to see Dean's shy smile as he lowered the camera, and placed it back on the small table next to him.

"Oh gosh," she blushed, "don't do that! You will break your camera!"

Dean scoffed as If she'd just said the most preposterous thing, and that surprised her. She had expected him to just laugh at the truth.

"You cut yourself to short sweetheart," he insisted. "I'm just taking advice from someone that gave it to me… taking pictures of things that are beautiful for once."

Dean’s POV:

Dean didn’t know why, but he just couldn’t get enough of seeing Y/N blush. It made his dark little word that much better, just a little bit brighter. He hadn’t felt something like that in so, so long. For years, he’d closed himself off from the world, even Sam. He just thought he’d spiraled when John died, nope. When he’d lost Sarah, the only person he’d ever really let himself fall for, confide in. The only woman who knew everything about him, the good, the bad, and the ugly. He spiraled almost out of control.

The drinking got worse, almost as bad as when he had the mark. The pain was intolerable. It never really went away if he were being honest. Then he met Y/N, and just like that, it didn’t hurt as badly anymore. Just like that, he could breathe again. It should have scared him, but honestly, he’d let himself wallow in this pit long enough, and it was well past time to pull himself up again. Dean wasn’t ever one to give up. Sarah would want him to be happy. Sam needed him to be happy, that much since he’d gotten here had been clear, but more than that HE needed to be happy. Y/N could do that for him, if she were willing, and it was just something he just KNEW.

“You must be one hell of a ladies man, or a damn good liar,” she insisted with a giggle. That’s when he detected it, the little hint of slur in her speech. She wasn’t as sober as he was, and he wasn’t about to take advantage of her, but tomorrow, before the ‘festivities,’ began, he made himself a promise that he’d spend some time getting to know her more, maybe try and wash away some of that self loathing she carried so deeply.

“Just calling it like I see it pretty girl,” he voiced, and she blushed even deeper if that were possible, wrapping her arms around her full breast to try and hide herself from him, and God he wanted to beg her to not hide from him. He wanted to see her, all of her. He’d never been around a woman that captivated him more than her, and it stung that she felt as though she needed to hide herself away from him. He’d never hurt her, he’d die before he hurt her.

“Come on,” he said, standing up suddenly, “you’re a little drunk, and I’m a gentleman, or at least I try to be. Let’s get you to bed, or tomorrow we won't be able to make my brother look like the little bitch he is at Whiskey Poker.”

Unsure, always so unsure, he could tell, but she did it anyway, she stood slowly, lacing her arm around the one he extended.

“Are you seriously about to walk me to my bedroom door?” she questioned with a slightly intoxicated chuckle, and Dean grinned like an idiot. God she was so fucking cute.

“You’re damn right I am sweetheart,” he teased, “you never know what could be lurking in dark corners, besides, like I said, I am a gentleman, what kinda man would I be if I let a lady see herself to bed after keeping her up all night.”

She tossed her head back and laughed at that, and God he wanted to see more of that, NEEDED to see more of that.

“Who said chivalry was dead I guess,” she said as they came to a stop in front of her door, and across from Dean’s, and Dean beamed, inside and out.

“I try,” he agreed, and leaned forward to kiss her softly on the cheek, mostly because he couldn’t help it, he just had to kiss her, but not on the lips, not tonight. Not while she was a little tipsy. He wasn’t that kinda guy anymore.

She blushed profusely as he backed away, and his own resolve almost wavered as he hovered there. Wanting so badly to kiss her, taste her; but he pulled away, because Dean was going to do this right. He was determined too.

“Goodnight, Dean,” she said after a stunned, somewhat dazed moment.

“Goodnight pretty girl.”

Chapter 5

Forever:

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Jensen and Dean’s Babes

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#my brother's keeper #jawritter #jensen ackles #dean winchester #dean winchester series #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x y/n #dean winchester x plus sized reader #dean winchester x plus sized you #dean x plus sized reader #dean x plus sized you #x reader inserts #spn fanfiction #spn fanfic #spn series

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bevswashere · 5 months ago

Text

Koi No Yokan

Chapter 10: Birthday Party

January 2006 Over 1 month later.

I don't wake until the supervisor shakes my leg, informing me we've arrived at Tokyo High again. We'd been gone since dawn, tracking a reported first-grade curse to the edge of the city.

Six people were killed.

Two of them before my eyes.

The anger has worn off, along with anything else I felt in the moment. Now I'm left with a vague, grim knot at the pit of my stomach. One that I know is best to ignore for the sake of continuing my day—or life. But I was sent alone this morning, and I have a feeling that I'll continue to be sent alone the stronger I become.

I run into Haibara and Nanami at the entrance to the dormitories, dressed in their normal winter clothing. Rather than asking about the mission as they usually do, or mentioning the party tonight, Haibara says, "Oh, Kaede-chan, you have a visitor."

"Huh?"

"He's waiting for you in the lounge."

"A visitor?" I repeat. "But I don't know anyone." Nobody who isn't from Jujutsu High... or family.

"He's been waiting for nearly two hours now."

The knot within my stomach triples in size. "It couldn't be—" I push past both of them, racing towards the lounge. Blind faith forms a hopeful smile on my face, and when I throw the doors open—

"Uematsu-san."

It fades completely. "What are you doing here?"

"I had a day off." The eyes and smile are the same, but the white kimono has been exchanged for a simple coat and jeans.

"And you came here?"

Kamo Shigeri gets up from his seat, walking over to stand face to face with me. "Is that okay?"

"As long as you're not hiding any blood stores in your coat."

"I am, but they're not for you." He flashes another boyish smile, but I'm inclined to keep my guard up. Kyoto must be taking the loss very personally if they're willing to send him all the way here like this. Maybe to gather intel, or pinpoint a weakness in my technique that they could exploit for next year's exchange event. Or maybe to kill me if Kamo really believed I might go crazy. "I thought we could go for a walk."

I neglect to share my alarmed thoughts or that I hate the snow. "Okay."

Our footsteps sinking into the ground is the only sound filling the air for some time. I bury my hands deep into my pockets, fists tightened around hot-packs that chilled hours ago. My entire body threatens to shiver. Kamo-san seems completely unbothered by the freezing temperature, or the unusual silence. He keeps his chin high, emerald eyes pointed towards the forest trail that's been cleared of the snow.

"You seemed eager earlier," Kamo mentions. "When you opened the doors."

"Oh, that." Despite the cold, I feel my cheeks flush with the shame of a lost, little girl. "To be honest, when I was told I had a visitor, I thought it was my father."

"Kunio-sama?"

"You've met before?"

"Once or twice. I've heard he tends to stick close to higher-ups and members of the different clans."

"Is that all you've heard?"

"That I'm willing to say out loud to you. You're close with him?"

"Not exactly—Well, not anymore." I've yet to adjust to it, life without him. I find myself waiting at odd moments for his words of encouragement, for the unmatched faith he had in me. Was I wrong to throw all of that away? "We haven't spoken for some time. I thought he'd finally come to make things right."

"Sorry to disappoint."

"Don't be. It was childish to believe he'd show up."

"You shouldn't blame yourself. It's easy to have false hope in people you love." Kamo-san keeps his gaze forward, but I can see a darkness glaze over him. "Especially when you're the eldest."

"You have a lot of siblings?"

"One. A sister. But she was born with no cursed energy." Kamo's lips tighten. "They treat her like a housemaid; don't even look her in the eyes when speaking to her."

Regardless of the climate, my heart begins to melt for Kamo Shigeri. "Seems like a common approach for jujutsu families."

He laughs weakly. "Let's just say you were right to think my family is cold. My sister calls them 'vampires' because of all the blood."

"She sounds like fun."

"She's great." Kamo can't help but go on about all the wonderful things about Yua, his sister. I recognize the distant look on his face when he lists all her likes and dislikes. The adoration is apparent. "...But she's horrible with vegetables, and... I've been talking about my sister too much, haven't I?"

"I like the way you talk about her. I do the same thing with my siblings."

"All of my family is pretty-much alive, but it's always been us two, you know?"

"Trust me, I know."

"I take it you're close with your siblings too, then."

"They're everything to me."

Kamo is a good listener. I see that in the way he considers each of my words carefully, probing all of the right details at the perfect time. Slowly, the urge to prove I am strong or unbothered disappears. I admit to him all that I can about Momo and Tomiji. What they like and don't like, how they were also born without cursed energy, and how that ultimately led to the bond between my father and I breaking. I even talk about my mother, the longing I truly feel for her, and the toll trying to fill her shoes has taken on me. In exchange, Kamo confesses that he'll eventually have to choose between his duty as the clan's first-born and leaving all of it behind for Yua. The choice is obvious, but he's scared for her future, listing all the things he's uncertain he can provide. I share with him my own leap of faith. How I fear the same things he does every day, but must stand by the choices I've made.

For an hour or longer, we share fears, hopes, and selfish little thoughts. I dredge out long forgotten stories from the past, and more recent ones from my time at school. I recount the horrors I had seen just this morning. Kamo shares with me the missions that he's been on too, the brutality of it all, how he's also still learning to separate his heart from his purpose.

We're miles into the forest, finally stopping in our place. "I've never said all of this out loud before."

"Me neither, but it feels good," Kamo says. "I hope you don't think I came here to dump all of my trauma onto you like this."

"Why did you come here today?"

"I couldn't be certain about it before, but now that we've talked, I like you, Uematsu-san."

"What do you mean?"

"What do you mean 'what do I mean'?" he laughs. "You're a good person that I'm interested in learning about. And I suppose it helps that you're..."

His answer does not make anything clearer for me. Originally, I had believed Kamo came here for the ulterior purpose of finding my weakness. Perhaps, that's still his motive. But why bear so many personal things too? Why travel all this way?

"I'm what?"

Kamo's endless smile widens in a mischievous kind of way. His ears flush. "You're quite beautiful, Uematsu-san."

Now, his intention's become completely muddled in my mind. My face grows warm from the sudden compliment. "I don't understand."

Kamo-san laughs and lifts his hand suddenly, pushing aside a breeze-blown strand of hair from my face. "I know Jujutsu don't really talk about this sort of thing, but I believe there's more we should live for than exorcising curses. I think you believe the same thing, even if you don't know it yet."

He tucks the strand behind my ear, fingers slowly trailing down the edge of my jaw. I stammer at first, "How do you know that?"

"You wear your emotions on your sleeve."

"I don't want to."

"It's not a bad thing," he smiles, hand still cupped against the side of my face. "You feel everything to a great extent, it's admirable. That's why you can take care of your siblings the way you do."

"Kamo-san..."

"Shigeri is fine," he says kindly. "You know me well enough for that, I think."

He begins to lean in. "Shigeri..."

He stops and pulls his hand away. "I'm sorry, I'm being too forward, aren't I?"

My voice is quiet, skin burning where he had been touching it. "No, it's okay."

"I thought I'd make my feelings clear since I can't see you nearly as much as I'd like," he says sincerely. "But regardless of how you feel, I'd like for us to be friends."

The only response I could be sure of is, "Yeah, I'd like that."

∞

"Did you get it?"

The boys enter Mariko's room seconds after I do.

Haibara pulls a case of beers, and a couple bottles of whiskey and sake from a duffel. Mariko celebrates instantly, jumping up to hug him. "Perfect!"

"How did you manage that?" Shoko chuckles. "Fake ID?"

"Nanami wore his normal clothes," Haibara chuckles. "The clerk didn't question it at all."

Admittedly, Nanami looked like he could be older than all of us. He had a sour look on his face, following Haibara into the room, "Next time you all want to do something like this, leave me out of it."

"Oh come on, Nanami," Mariko whines. "It's my birthday. Isn't it worth it?"

"No."

"You didn't feel a little rush breaking the rules like this?"

"We can get into serious trouble," he points out. "If anyone finds out we brought alcohol into campus—"

"You mean you brought alcohol into campus. How shameful," Mariko feigns. "Honestly, I thought you were better than that."

Nanami grits his teeth and plants himself in the chair in the corner. He pulls a book out from his jacket pocket.

"Don't tell me you're going to read the whole time, Nanami-kun."

"I'm merely here for Mariko's sake," he tells Shoko. "And to make sure none of you do anything stupid."

"Killjoy," Mariko pouts. "Is Kamo-san joining us, Kaede-chan?"

"No, his vacation time was limited to today. He has to head back to catch his flight to Kyoto."

"Such a gesture to come all the way from Kyoto," Shoko hums. "You must have really impressed him at the exchange event."

"Of course she did, just look at what's left of the field!" Mariko gloats. "You guys were gone for a while. What did he tell you?"

"We're back!" Satoru kicks the door open, striding in with Suguru whose arms are filled with grocery bags. "And ready to party!"

"The cheesecake is strawberry flavored," Suguru says. "I hope that's okay, Mariko-chan."

"That's perfect." Mariko is practically beaming as we arrange ourselves in a circle on her rug. In the midst of us is the mountain of drinks, gifts, and snacks the boys had brought in.

Satoru sits next to me, and I whisper, "I wonder why the cheesecake is strawberry flavored."

"Serves you guys right by sending me down into the city to be your grocery-boy."

"Our grocery boy who made Suguru carry all the groceries."

"Hey, don't complain. I even remembered the chips you like." He grimaces, "So salty."

"Better than dropping four sugar cubes into your tea."

"When you two are done, you can tell us if you want a drink," Mariko says, pulling beers from the case.

She moves to open the whiskey, but Suguru stops her. "Let me, Mariko-chan. It's your birthday, you should let us serve you."

"I'm good," Satoru says, grabbing a can of soda from the pile.

"You don't drink, Gojo-san?" Haibara asks.

"Nah," he pops the can open. "Never liked the taste. Besides, it messes with your brain. How could I stay sharp?"

Shoko laughs. "I wouldn't go as far as saying you're 'sharp'."

Suguru begins passing out shots to the circle, Mariko getting the first one of course. "What about you, Kaede-chan?"

"I've never drank before," I admit. "But I guess I'll try."

Mariko celebrates with a few happy claps, then she turns around, "Nanami, what about you?"

"Leave me out of this."

"Come on," she begs. "At least sit in the circle with us, please."

Begrudgingly, his book shuts. He seats himself in the circle for the sake of Mariko getting whatever she wants.

"Great, now that you're in the circle, you have to drink," Mariko giggles, pouring a shot for him.

"I'm here to oversee—"

"No need," she insists. "Gojo will keep us in line, won't you Gojo-san?"

"Of course!"

"We're screwed." He accepts the glass from Mariko, and sighs again, "Absolutely screwed."

With each of us holding a glass, Mariko thanks us for spending her birthday with her like this, then we cheers and drink the golden liquid down. Shoko hisses in what sounds like refreshment, Haibara coughs a little.

The bitterness stings in my throat, and I steal Satoru's soda from his hands.

"Hey, get your own."

After Mariko insists we all take a second shot and I steal Satoru's soda one more time, the snacks, beers, and servings of sake begin to circulate.

Mariko then remembers, "I was saying, what did you talk about with Kamo-san, Kaede?"

"Kamo?" Satoru repeats. "What do you mean?"

"Kamo Shigeri stopped by," I say. "Nothing much. We just discussed family stuff."

"Family stuff already?" she taunts. "How fast paced."

I don't mention anything about Shigeri's confession, how my thoughts circulate around all the things he said. "It was nothing, really."

"It can't be nothing if he came all the way down from Kyoto." Satoru's gaze is fixed forward, soda held carefully between his palms. No matter how long I watch him, he doesn't look my way.

"Ah, that's right," Shoko cuts in. "Mariko-chan, do you want your gifts now?"

Her eyes light up. "Of course I do!"

"Me first!" Satoru raises his hand, pulling out a large, glossy gift bag. "This is from Suguru and I."

Without a hint of hesitation, Mariko rips the bag open, gasping at the black backpack inside. From the logo in the center I'm guessing it's designer. "You guys," she gushes. "This is so nice!"

"You think that's great?" Satoru says, "Check the ID holder."

Mariko lifts the plastic, her smile faltering slightly as she realizes a printed picture of Suguru and Satoru is inside.

"So you can forever remember the good looking guys who gave you the best gift ever!"

"Just to clarify," Suguru cuts in, "That wasn't my idea."

"I think we all know whose idea it was," I say.

"I love it," Mariko assures. "Who's next?"

"You can open mine." Nanami points to the very neatly wrapped gift sitting at the center of our circle.

Mariko rips the paper back to three different items: a lotus flower keychain, a bottle of perfume, and the newest copy of her favorite magazine.

"There's a gift receipt in case you don't like it."

"What are you talking about? Of course I like it. Thank you, Nanami."

"If she'll accept the picture of Gojo, I think anything goes," Shoko chuckles.

"Hey, that's a great photo," Satoru argues.

"Us next," Shoko announces, pointing to the pink paper bag. "That's from Kaede-chan and I."

Like all the other gifts, Mariko rips it openly gladly, squealing as she pulls out a purple polaroid camera. "How cute! Let me take a picture of all you guys."

"Wait, you should be in the photo, Mariko-chan," Haibara takes the camera.

"Don't worry. Allow me." Satoru takes the camera before it's hovering in front of us with his Infinity. "All ready?"

We lean together, smiling as the bright flash goes off. The picture rolls out the bottom and while it develops, Haibara says, "I guess that leaves me."

He passes Mariko a small box wrapped in blue paper. Unlike the other gifts, she opens this one slowly. "Haibara..."

"It's a phoenix," he smiles. "Like your shikigami—"

"I love it," she says quickly, meeting his eyes. Finally, she pulls it out of the box to reveal to the rest of us the golden necklace. "Can you put it on me?"

Haibara places it around her neck. When he's finished, he sits back down next to her and observes. "Pretty."

Each of us are fighting smiles as we watch them. It seems like we all held our breath, not wanting to interrupt such a sweet, delicate—

"Cute, but I don't think the backpack can be beat."

I hit Satoru in the arm for killing the mood.

"Ow! What was that for?"

"Thank you." Mariko turns to the rest of us, speaking earnestly, "All of you. At home we never celebrate birthdays. I really..." she stops, and I think a lump forms in her throat.

Other than them being from the countryside and her having no siblings, Mariko hardly talks about her family. Out of all of us, she's the only one who never used her vacation time to go home. She spends her days off in the dorms or down in the city. When I had asked her about it, she claimed they "didn't need to see her."

She composes herself. "I'm so happy here with you all."

"We're happy to be here with you too," Shoko says, bringing the mood back up by suggesting we play a game of "Truth, dare, or drink."

Mariko loves the idea, and claims, "We'll start small," even though there's an evil expression on her face. "Nanami. Truth, dare, or drink?"

He already looks alarmed. "Truth."

"Since you're always reading... Do any of those books happen to be sexy books?"

Nanami's face turns red as all of our eyes dart back to him. Even Satoru stays quiet to hear the answer. "What? No!"

Mariko giggles. "Worth a shot."

"My turn," Shoko announces. "Geto-san. Truth, dare, or drink?"

"Dare."

"I dare you to run a lap around the dorm buildings naked."

Satoru laughs loudly, and the rest of our mouths drop open. Suguru, however, seems completely calm, "You're sure about this, Ieiri-chan?"

Like a tennis match, our heads dart towards Shoko, who only eggs him on further, "One hundred percent."

A couple minutes later, all of our heads are peeking out of Mariko's window to watch Suguru strip in the snow. Once his clothes have been abandoned on the ground he runs a quick lap. At one point Satoru tries to cover my eyes, but I fight him on it.

"I feel strangely closer to Geto-san now," Haibara rubs the back of his neck.

"He should have just drank," Nanami, the only one of us who refused to watch, shakes his head.

A few moments later, Suguru returns fully dressed. "Geez, it's cold out there."

"I'm impressed," Shoko admits. "I didn't think you had it in you."

Mariko giggles. "I think we all know what Suguru has in him now."

"My turn then?" Suguru sits back down. "Kaede-chan, truth or dare?"

I had no intention of removing my clothes, "Truth."

"What do you really think of Satoru?"

The question takes me aback. I suddenly feel an immense spotlight as everyone's eyes strain on me. Even Satoru's glasses unwaveringly face my direction.

"What do you mean by that?"

"How do you feel about him?"

"He's..."

"Go on," Satoru taunts. "I'm what..?"

I try to answer the question, but I can't. I push my glass forward and opt for the shot instead.

"Ah, boring," Mariko sighs.

It's my turn and I dare Haibara to prank call Yaga, but he drinks instead. Nanami takes his turn, then Haibara, until it wraps back around to Mariko.

"Kaede," she says firmly. "Truth or dare?"

"Dare."

"I dare you to tell us how you really feel about Gojo-san."

"This again," I roll my eyes. "Can't you come up with something else?"

"I could."

I push my glass forward again and the circle groans. It moves on to Shoko who asks the same thing worded differently. For every following turn except Nanami's, I'm forced to take another shot.

"Kaede-chan," Mariko begins, and I prepare my glass for another drink. "How do you feel about Kamo-san?"

I'm taken aback. "Huh?"

"Kamo Shigeri," she says, fingertips playing with her new necklace. "What do you think?"

I picture him in the snow, the blush of his nose and cheeks in the cold. The rough pads of his fingers against my skin. "He's nice."

"Is he?"

"Yeah, he's very nice."

"In what way?"

"Isn't that a second question?"

"It's an extension of the first," Mariko giggles. "Why so flustered?"

I hear him admitting his feelings in the back of my head, calling me beautiful without a hint of hesitation. My face grows warm at the thought alone.

"I think she's done for the night," Satoru interrupts. "Get someone else drunk."

That "someone else" becomes Nanami. They gang up on him, asking all kinds of absurd questions, even challenging him to unsolvable math equations. After another round concludes, I'm too out of it to participate any longer, and Nanami has stumbled onto Mariko's bed to pass out there.

Shoko directs her turn to Haibara, "Do you have feelings for Mariko?"

I'm not sure if it's because he's drunk, but Haibara is shameless with his answer, "Of course I do. She's wonderful!"

The remaining four switch to another game, while Satoru and I patiently watch them from the floor.

My condition only worsens. Mariko's room is certainly not as clear as it had been when the night began. The bright posters and fluffy rug lose distinction in my mind. Every now and then I zone out on what the others are saying.

"Are you okay?" When I look up at Satoru, I realize I have been leaning into him. "You're not going to throw up, are you?"

Satoru's face and glasses melt perfectly in my mind. I'm not sure how long it takes me to answer, but eventually I shake my head no.

Somehow as the night goes on, Suguru has taken to letting himself sleep on Mariko's rug. Haibara and Mariko are gone and Shoko has lit herself a cigarette by the window.

"You should go to bed," Satoru says.

I think of asking him to stay like this with me for a little longer, but I let him help me to my feet. I wobble as I stand.

"Can you walk?"

The words do not come from my mouth clearly. "I'll be fine. My room's next door."

"If you say so."

He says goodnight and leaves for his room.

I stagger over to my door, opening it to find Haibara and Mariko already inside. They break apart and stare at me. I nearly forget it's my turn to speak. "Uh, don't mine me. I'll... sleep somewhere else tonight. Carry on." My eyes blink rapidly when I close my door, unable to tell if that was real or a figment of my imagination.

I wander down the cold hall, counting whose beds are taken and whose aren't. Nanami is using Mariko's. Shoko will probably use hers. Nanami, Haibara, and Suguru's beds are free, and I think Suguru would be the most inclined to let me borrow. Although, Haibara is using mine, so it would be an even exchange—well, not completely even.

I head over to the boy's dorms, pausing in front of the door before Suguru's. Satoru opens it before I can think of knocking. "What's wrong?"

"Are you busy?"

"Why would I be busy?"

He's right, my question is idiotic. "Can I stay here?"

Satoru pulls me in, and takes a bottle of water out from his fridge. "You should drink this."

When I take a sip, a chill runs through me. "Too cold."

"You're such a baby." He takes the bottle, setting it down elsewhere before pulling a jacket from his closet. "Put this on."

I try pulling the hoodie over my head, but it's backwards. I'm trapped in darkness. "I messed it up."

"Do I have to do everything for you?" Satoru's warm hands reach under the jacket, slowly pulling it back over my head. "Honestly Kaede-chan, I thought you'd be able to handle your alcohol a little better."

"At least I drank."

"And if I had, who would be here to take care of you?" He begins laughing, and I think it's because I've begun to pout. "You should have just answered their stupid questions."

"But I didn't know the answer."

He stares down at me with a quizzical look on his face. "You should figure that out then."

Satoru orients the jacket the right way, sliding it over my body one piece at a time. When my head comes out through the top, I'm met with him close to my face, fixing mussed strands of my hair. "Do you want me to stay in a different room?" I ask him.

"What was wrong with yours?"

"Mariko and Haibara are using it."

"Seriously?"

I nod.

"Good for Haibara, I guess."

"Do you want me to leave?"

"Stay here. At least I can turn you if you start throwing up." He takes a seat next to me. "So... Kamo Shigeri?"

"What about him?"

"Did you talk about anything else when he visited you?"

"He," I attempt to place the right words and thoughts together, to consider what's appropriate to share and what's not, "Told me I'm beautiful."

Satoru scoffs instantly.

"Do you not agree?"

"Don't put words in my mouth."

"Whatever," I whine. "He talked about living beyond the purpose of Jujutsu. He said I'm meant for more than that because of the way I take care of people."

"And he knows you so well," Satoru scoffs again. "It's easy for someone who's not the strongest to say all of that."

"You think I shouldn't want more out of life because I'm strong?" Not an accusation, but a genuine question. One that I can only ask someone strong like him.

"I think he's misguided you into thinking there's a choice. Going on missions, constantly being at the beck and call of the higher ups, that'll only get worse as we get stronger—because we're stronger. Do you honestly think we'll ever have time for the things Kamo does?"

"Well," I begin to fidget with the hems of Satoru's jacket, suddenly ashamed of my trivial thoughts, "I don't know. It all sounded so much simpler when Shigeri said it."

"Shigeri?" he laughs in disbelief. "Do you like him now? Is that what this is about?"

"Why are you getting angry with me?"

"I'm not angry," he defends. "I'm trying to help you be realistic about this."

"I didn't think it was 'unrealistic' to consider the possibility of dating someone later on. Or even kissing someone."

Satoru's head jerks towards me. "You kissed Kamo?"

"No."

"But you want to kiss him?"

"I wasn't talking about Kamo, Satoru." What I say, I hide deeply in every sober hour. "There's moments where I think about kissing you."

He sighs, "You're a lousy drunk," ruining every one of my inebriated expectations.

"Excuse me?"

"Talking so freely about Kamo and wanting to kiss me when you refused to admit how you felt earlier—even the way you're looking at me right now."

I adjust my gaze, the way I had been staring longingly at every feature of his face.

"It's lousy taking all of those shots instead of admitting you like me."

"I didn't say 'I like you'."

"Why would you kiss someone you don't like?"

I fall short of finding an answer. Instead, I provide a weak, "I'm curious what it would feel like, kissing you."

Satoru sits with this for an extended moment, letting me absorb my misery. Then he takes a breath and suddenly says, "Fine. I'll kiss you."

"What?"

"I'll kiss you and you'll know what it feels like."

I wait for him to say he's kidding, but he doesn't. "Okay."

We adjust how we sit, facing each other as I pull his glasses off. I'm unable to read his expression, but I know that his eyes are the most striking thing I've seen all day—beautiful.

When we kiss, Satoru doesn't touch me. He simply leans forward, connecting his lips to mine for a few seconds and pulls away. I try to lean in again, but he stops me.

He returns to the original way he'd been sitting, facing the door with his glasses on again. His profile captures me. The sharp lines of his jaw and nose, spotless milky-white skin. How the thick, white locks frame all of it so perfectly. "Have you done that before?"

"That was the first time."

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to take your first kiss like that."

"It's fine."

The silence permeates the room for longer than I want. "Can I still stay here?"

He smiles somehow, "Be wrong if I kicked you out." He helps me get under the covers, then turns the light off, situating himself on the floor.

"Satoru?"

I hear him hum from the floor.

"I know you said it's unrealistic, but have you ever wanted those things from someone? Being with them and kissing them?"

"Of course."

"How did you deal with it?"

"I ignore it."

"It doesn't hurt?"

"Recently, it's been cutting like a knife."

"And you'll never do anything about it because you're strong?"

"There's no point."

I frown up at the ceiling. "Sounds lonely."

"I'm not alone. Neither are you. You'll always have Suguru and I. That's for certain."

"That's not the same."

"If you want to be with Kamo so badly, then go for it. I won't stop you."

"I didn't say anything about wanting to be with Shigeri. I don't—"

"I know! You don't know how you feel about Kamo, you don't know how you feel about me. That's why you're drunk. I get it."

"You sound like you're angry with me."

"I'm not angry, Kaede-chan," he says through an exhalation that convinces me he's lying. "Go to sleep."

How can I? Everything makes sense and no sense all at the same time when Satoru's around. He enhances my life in a way that makes it easier to breathe. That felt sacred even if I can't fully understand it. But after hearing his perspective, what's the point of saying so?

"I don't know what I feel for you."

He grumbles, "I know."

"But I've never felt it for anybody else in my life."

To this, Satoru pauses. We're silent in the dark for some time, until he finally sighs, "Just go to sleep, Kaede-chan."

∞

Early in the morning, Satoru's phone ringing wakes us both.

Immediately, my mind floods with memories of last night. The things I said and did. Satoru kissed me. Each time I picture it my stomach leaps. My heart pounds thinking of the way his lips felt against mine.

"Hello?" Satoru's voice is low and croaky. "Oh, Yaga Sensei." He listens for a while, before sitting upright. "They must have left their phones...."

Satoru admitting to Yaga that I'm with him at this hour would reflect so poorly on us, and yet, "She's here."

He hands me the phone.

Yaga Sensei doesn't give me time to speak. His tone is urgent and I realize that our personal doings are irrelevant in comparison to what he's about to say. My breath stills listening to him glaze over the fact that Suguru and I are not answering.

Then my heart drops.

"There was an attack on your family's estate. I'm sending the three of you in immediately."

#geto suguru #gojo satoru #gojo x oc #jujutsu kaisen #kento nanami #otsuka mariko #shoko ieiri #uematsu kaede #yu haibara #koi no yokan

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fingertipsmp3 · 4 years ago

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Having an immediate family who never really do anything toxic or dramatic is really funny because the smallest thing can cause dissent since they’re not really used to conflict

#the latest ~family drama~ is that my granddad’s favourite jumper (american translation: sweater) that he’s been wearing for about 20 years #has finally worn out #some necessary background info is that my granddad is the only person in my family who has less clothes than i do. he just doesn’t buy them #he’s got about two jumpers; enough shirts for the week; and maybe 3-5 pairs of trousers in various styles #i don’t think he owns any jeans. he might have a suit somewhere for weddings and funerals #so he just wears variations of the same thing every day basically. my grandma is constantly doing laundry so he can have clothes #because he is too cheap to buy any more clothes since ‘he has the necessities’#all of this means he has no concept of how much money a good quality jumper costs in the year of our lord 2021 #he eventually grudgingly agreed to give my mum £20 to order him a jumper online and she found a suitable one from cotton traders #(criteria for ‘suitable’: crew neck; regular fit; mostly cotton; a neutral colour; absolutely no patterns whatsoever)#i sent her a link to a h&m sweater and she was like ‘he will think it makes him look gay. also it’s too baggy’#i was like ‘just buy a smaller size?? also you can get him two of them for this price’ she said ‘no’#anyway so now he has his navy crew neck cotton traders sweatshirt and he’s very happy with it #but now my grandma is lecturing him saying he can’t eat his dinner while wearing it because she doesn’t want him to spill something on it #and my mum is relaying all of this to me since she goes to their house for lunch every sunday (she’s in their support bubble)#and i’m just dying to be honest like... how can one old man’s jumper cause this much dissent #it just makes me laugh that he now has only one jumper (which he has also been wearing for probably as long as i’ve been alive)#and yet he is so picky about what type of sweater he wants and that it cannot be interesting or unusual in any way #i don’t know if it makes it funnier or not that my granddad is loaded. like £20 is definitely Not his maximum sweater budget #he just wasn’t willing to spend any more than that #personal

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warmaidensrevenge · 2 years ago

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Eddie x Plus!size reader

This was a request by @salenorona23

Brief description: Can i have a Eddie munson x plus!size reader. Where the reader is mike's and Nancy's cousin and she needs a place to stay bc there are no more rooms at the wheelers so mike asks the gang if she can stay with one of them everyone says no so mike decides she has to stay with eddie and his uncle eddie complaints but the reader comes up behind him and she says she can stay on the couch instead of his room he turns around and checks her out and falls in love with her Immediately and then eddie starts being a blabbermouth saying she can stay in his room with him but mike says no and that he has to take the couch. So the reader and eddie start to hang out and they fall for each other and at the end eddie tells the reader he is in love with her and she feels the same * sorry its so long im just watching a show and the idea came to mind you don't have to do it*

Oh shit I like this one. 🙃

If you want to read my other work you can find it HERE

Warning: 18+ cursing and mild mentions of unprotected sex.

🫦🖤🫰

"No. Nope. There is no room for her. I barley have room in there for my stuff. And there is absolutely no room for two beds." Eddie complained to Mike in the trailer with his back towards you in the small doorway.

" I don't have much" you whispered barely loud enough for Eddie to hear you. "I can take the couch if that's ok with your uncle."

The first thing Eddie noticed was The Lonely Mountain graphic on your tank that hugged your curves just right. Then to your ripped black jeans that were slightly worn between your thighs, with a black and grey flannel tied around your wide hips that the gods blessed you with. Down to your beat up black and white Chuck Taylors. Then finally up to your face. Your hair blowing in the wind like some goddess that blessed him with your presence. He noticed a pair of drum sticks sticking out of your knap sack. You had the sweetest eyes Eddie has ever seen. But the small frown you had on your face broke his heart.

You were frowning because of the inconvenience you were causing the Munson's and the rest of your family. You had just finished beauty school when your parents announced they were going on a 6 month backpacking trip to Europe. They didn't want you to stay alone in the big old house in the woods even though you preferred it. So they sent you to your aunt and uncle's house. But the Wheelers house was already so packed that you couldn't fit. You honestly didn't want to stay with the Munson's. You didn't know them. You know the whole stranger danger thing. But Mike convinced you that Eddie and his Uncle were really nice. However you didn't know that Mike had to convince Eddie if you could stay there too. Obviously the tall lanky guy with messy brown hair didn't want you there. But you hoped he would. Sleeping on a couch was better than sleeping on the floor or in a tent in the Wheelers back yard.

When you met Eddie's eyes. They felt like they pierced your heart. You noticed his frizzy curls that fell a little past shoulder length. You looked at his black and white baseball tee with the logo Hellfire on it. Down to his jeans with the hole in the knee and then his dirty white Reeboks. Seeing his rings and bracelets made you think of some metal head punk that was totally your type. You didn't know much about him only what Mike told you but seeing him there with his arms crossed made you nervous.

" Oh uhhhhh hilo...i-im Eddie" Eddie stumbled on his words. A mixture of hello and hi " Shit sorry Hi.

"Hi there I'm y/n " you giggled at his mistake.

" I-I was just kidding. You can stay with me."

"No!" Mike order noticed the shift in Eddie's attitude. " You'll sleep on the couch"

Eddie turned to give Mike a scowl.

" Seriously you're taking the couch." Mike said kinda scared.

You smiled at the exchange.

...

You walked into Eddie's room while he stubble around trying to clean up a little after Mike left. You saw his guitar first and Eddie noticed right away.

" She's gorgeous right?"

You smiled and nodded

"You play?" Eddie asked

You shook your head. "No but I play the drums. You pointed at your sticks still looking at his guitar.

" You could touch it if you want." Eddie would let you have it if you would let him stay in the room with you.

"Uh that's ok.. I'm kinda accident prone. I wouldn't want to break it or anything." You set your backpack and small suitcase down. You eyed the room looking at the posters and amps." You some sorta famous rockstar or something?"

"Oh man I wish." Eddie sighed. " We are still in the garage faze right now. Sometimes we play at this little bar outside of town. We are called Corroded Coffin." You smiled at the name. " Are you in a band?"

" Uhh I used to be. In highschool. But I kinda fell out of it. But I didn't grow out of my drums. Something about hitting the shit out something just feels kinda good ya know?"

" Y-yeah" Eddie had no idea what you meant. He wasn't particularly violent. Sure he got into fights at school mostly just getting his ass handed to him. He however could take a punch. He didn't like to fight. He mostly just cared about music and D&D.

" Oh cool you like Lord of the Rings too?"

"Sure. It's like one of the best books I ever read." Eddie admitted.

"Same." You agreed. You turned your back to Eddie and moved your hair to the side to reveal your neck showing him your Bilbo's front door tattoo with the words 'an unexpected journey " just underneath.

Eddie's mouth dropped. He swore he drooled a little. Holy fuck you were perfect.

You fixed yourself and turned back to him. He had his lips pressed and nodded.

" C-cool" he stuttered.

Tension filled the air.

" Uh you know I don't want to take your bed. The couch is really fine. I'm just happy to have a roof over my head."

Eddie was starting at you. Not hearing a word you just said.

"Eddie?"

" Oh what. Shit sorry I was uhh thinking about uhhh s-song." He lied. He was just so in aww of you.

" I said I can take the couch. I really don't mind."

"Oh no I-i can't let you do that....Mike would have my head of you weren't comfortable."

" Please I'm sure you could take him."

Eddie laughed at your assumption that he could actually take him. He probably could take Holly. But that's cuz she was still little and she was a girl. But if she cried he didn't stand a chance.

...

Living with a girl was nothing less than challenging. Remembering to put the toilet seat down for her was a hassle. And her using up all the hot water was a bitch. But when she emerged from that steam with damp hair and shorts Eddie need the cold shower afterwards. Uncle Wayne work nights so sleeping on the pull out was fine for you until the days he was off. You would stay with y/n in the room. With a pillow barrier separating you two. Eddie found it hard to sleep with you next to him. But the sound of your breathing was like a lullaby to him.

One day you invited her to band practice. Of course she was the only girl there. You guys didn't have girls around. But the lack of females didn't stop the guys hitting on her. Trying to show off their talents. Eddie didn't hit on you out of respect for Mike. But the others didn't care who she was related too. Gwydion let her play his drum set when you guys took a break. Trying to guide her in how to use them. She looked up to you grinning. You took a swig of beer to quench your thirst you had suddenly gotten at her smile.

You glared at Gwydion to backed off. And when he did she started playing a familiar intro. They guys knew the song well. After all it was your favorite band and you made them play it over and over. She started the intro again to let everyone get into their places except Gwydion. He stood back in shock that you could actually play the drums better than him.

Eddie joined you when it was his turn to play.

'white man came across the sea, he brought his us pain and misery, he killed our tribes he killed our creed, he took our game for his own need. We fought him hard, we fought him well, out on the plains we have him hell"

Eddie watched you as you banged your head while he sung Run to the Hills.

You sang along with him during the chorus. Grinning back and forth at each other.

When the song was over she looked so happy. It made your heart skip a beat.

" Looks like you've been replaced Gwydion." You said smirking at your opened mouth friend.

Her laugh was the sweetest music to your ears. Geez you were head over heels for her.

...

"Oh man that was fun. I didn't realize how much I missed playing with people." You said while getting ready for bed.

" I didn't know you liked Iron Maiden. That's my favorite band." Eddie followed you into his room.

" Oh hell yeah. You should see my vinyls. I think you might love me after you see it." You joked.

I think I'm in love with you now. Eddie thought.

Wayne was off tonight and Eddie didn't have a campaign so he wanted to spend time with you. He watched as you left to shower. Picking out a movie for you two watch. He figure something scary so that maybe if you were scared enough you would hold his hand or something. Eddie popped some popcorn and grabbed 2 beers for you and him. He just set them down on the dresser when you came out. You tripped on Eddie's guitar case landing right on Eddie falling to the floor. Eddie grunted at the sudden weight on him.

" Shit Eddie I'm sorry. Did I hurt you!?" You were worried as you got off and stood up.

Eddie laid there for a second trying to keep the memory of your body fully pressed against him.

" Eddie I'm sorry. I know I'm heavy. Please don't tell me you didn't break something."

Your words pull Eddie out of his head. He jumped right up. " No no you didn't hurt me at all. You're not heavy. Don't say that. I was just not ready to fall."

You looked like you were about to cry. When Eddie came to hug you. He breathed you in. You smelled so good.

" Hey I'm serious . You didn't hurt me at all."

After he calmed you down you sat on the bed while he put in Nightmare on Elms street.

Eddie jumped when you laughed at Tina running away from Freddie in the alley. He had to admit that he was definitely more scared of the movie than you were. You scooted closer to him resting your head on his shoulder.

Damn I wish I could kiss her.

...

" Common Wheeler let me-"

"No! Alright." Mike cut off Eddie

" Please man let me ask her out."

"uhh ok." Mike said

"Really?!"

" No not really Eddie." Mike said " Dude she's leaving in 2 months"

Fuck Mike was right. She was leaving. How could you start something with her if it was just end as soon as she left. Shit why couldn't she stay?

"Ok. I won't Wheeler. I'm sorry I brought it up"

"You leave her alone ok."

Eddie agreed. He had to distance himself from you. He didn't want to but he had to. For his heart. It was gonna break if you didn't want to stay.

Later that week Eddie spent a lot of time out hanging out with Dustin or with his other buddies from hellfire. He would get home late on purpose so that he knew you would be asleep. He would leave early to school so that he didn't have to see you. He missed you though. And though you didn't say it you missed him too.

One night he had no where to go and uncle Wayne was at work. He sat in his van staring at the trailer. You were in there waiting for him. Then he saw you come out. He watched as you walked to his side and opened the door.

" Hey what are you doing out here?"

" I uhhh sorry I was just thinking."

"Anything you want to talk about?"

You didn't look at her. You knew if you did you would blurt out that you wanted her.

"Eddie?" She said while putting her hand on your wrist.

You knew Eddie didn't want to talk so you didn't push the issue.

"Hey come on. I want to show you something." You tugged Eddie out the van. Pulling him into the trailer.

Eddie looked at the chair in the kitchen leaning up against the sink.

"Ta-da" she said pointing at the chair.

"uhh it's a chair." Eddie sounded confused.

She tugged at your hair. " It's so I can fix this mop of yours."

"No...Nope. No one touches this hair but me."

"Eddie trust me. I won't cut it short. I'm just gonna trim the dead ends off. It will be less freid at the bottom and it will look better I promise."

Eddie side eyed you but nodded.

" I got to wash it first ok?"

" Yeah ok."

"is it ok if I use my stuff? It will help with the frizziness."

"ok"

He sat there head leaned back into the sink.

" Is it warm enough?" You asked

"Uh-huh" Eddie replied

" Good." You smiled starting to wash his hair. Rubbing his scalp tenderly.

Eddie moaned a little. " That uhh that feels nice." Eddie could feel you smile.

After you were finished you helped dry and brush Eddie's hair. He had a great head of hair. He just need a good routine to take care of it. You started snipping away soon after. When you were finished you blowed dried his hair.

"Come on." You said while grabbing Eddie's hand and lead him to the bathroom mirror.

"See it looks fantastic." She said while fluffing up your hair.

You didn't even look at yourself. You just kept looking at her.

" Looks great. You did a real good job sweetheart."

"Thanks. Didn't do too bad yourself. Thanks for not moving." She said winking at you.

God you were in love with her. Just flat out undeniably, unmistakeably in love with the poor girl. What were you gonna do when she left?

She was leaving in one month. But you kept your word to Mike that you weren't gonna try anything. She looked so tired today. Eddie thought. That's when you opened the bottom cabinet drawer that he had empty for you. You were running low on tampons. It's about that time. She was always so tired around this time of month. Oh man she must be in pain. Eddie left to make you a care package. Like he'd done the past 3 months. Coming back to the room he saw you curled up facing the wall.

" Hey sweetheart I come baring gifts."

You smiled at Eddie's new name for you. You sat up with pain in your lower back. Just exhausted. You looked into the bag Eddie sat down in front of you. When he left to get something. You pulled out the lastest Rolling Stone magazine, a new box of tampons, a candy bar, some Tylenol and a pint of your favorite ice. You smile when Eddie came back with a spoon.

" Thank you Eddie." You said softly bringing your knees up a little and rested your back against the head board.

Eddie started to play his acoustic guitar across from you knowing how it made you feel better. He watched as you brought spoon full of ice cream to your mouth. You moved a little closer to him and held out the spoon offering him some.

" Uh no I'm ok that's for you ."

" It's ok Eddie I don't mind sharing."

" But uhhh" Eddie was nervous. "what If I have a cooties?"

" i think I can handle cooties Eddie." She giggled

He hesitate for just a brief second before pulling the ice cream off with his teeth. He saw you put the spoon right back in your mouth to suck off whatever he left. That's what she did over and over again until the ice cream was gone. She put the empty container on the nightstand and snuggled back into the the bed. Eddie laid down next to you and starting to rub your lower back. For the first time Eddie and you slept with out the wall of pillows.

...

Two weeks left. Eddie was upset that you were leaving so soon. He could tell you were getting sad too. He never got to tell you he loved you. He wanted to so bad. But Mike man. He couldn't do that to him.

One night during the last week of your stay Eddie wanted to sleep with you so bad. His uncle was at work and you were sitting in his room packing up. That's when he decided to see if you need help.

You looked at him thru tired eyes. It was getting late. When she asked you something.

" Hey Eddie umm could you sleep in here tonight?"

" uh sure."

You took off you shirt like you always did when you slept. She went to the restroom to change. And when she came out she was just in a flannel. She went to turn on your radio. You moved so she could get in. She closed the door and turned out the light. You felt her her moving under the covers. The song I wanna know what love is filled the room. You didn't really care for Foreigner but it seemed like the appropriate song to be playing right now.

As you layed there she scooted closer.

"Eddie is it ok that I put my head on your shoulder?"

"Yeah yeah it's ok sweetheart."

You put your arm under her head and she rested on your shoulder. She put her hand on your chest. She was making your heart race. Her hot minty breath felt good on your bare chest.

You weren't sleepy but you could tell that she was. She sighed and started to caress your chest. You tensed up when you immediately got goosebumps.

" Is this ok?" She asked

" y-yeah"

She lifted her head to look at you. The yellow light from the porch bleeding thru the blinds. All you could see was her eyes.

" Can I kiss you?" She said softly.

"I uhh I- yes."

She leaned up and you lifted your head a little to meet her lips. It was fireworks. The kissed deepened when she pulled you closer. The kiss was too short for you. When she pulled away you felt her smile. You turned so that your face was hovering over hers and she got comfortable on the pillow. You kissed again. This time just with a bit more passion. Only breaking to breath. She took your breath away. You felt her hand moving your hair behind your shoulder as you grabbed her chin. You pulled away finally you couldn't do this.

"Eddie it's okay I like it."

" I do too but."

" But what"

" I promised Mike that I wouldn't do anything."

"Mike is not the boss of me."

" No I know. It's just I gave him my word."

She bit her lip to hold back tears. You laid back down fighting back your own. She laid back on your chest holding you tight until she fell asleep.

" I love you" you whispered

...

it was the last day before you left and you were at the Wheelers. Eddie didn't want to be apart. But he knew you need sometime with your family. She came back around 8. You were sitting on the couch slouched. You guys stared at each other for a while when she went to the room. You knew what would happen if you followed her. But you did it anyways. She was sitting on the edge of the bed. You stood in front of her pulling her up to her feet. Hugging her and breathing the scent of her perfume. After a minute she pulled away and kissed you. You let her take off your shirt. No longer caring about the promise you were about to break. You undressed each other. You didn't have to ask if she was ok with it. When you laid her down on the bed kissing and holding on to her waist with one hand and the other holding you up. She moved you penis to her warm wet entrance. You slowly pushed yourself in her. It was so bitter sweet that you wanted to do this until kingdom come. You slowly pulled in and out kissing her. You move your hands behind her shoulders as she held your neck with one hand and the other placed on you waist. Foreheads met as you speed up your thrust slightly. Pleasant sighs left your mouths. You both let the wave wash over you as you orgasm. After a while you just laid there holding each other.

" y/n please stay."

" Eddie I can't....I have no where to live. And I don't have any money."

" That's ok you can stay here. And I'll take care of you."

"Eddie no."

"y/n I love you. I can't just let you leave."

" You love me?"

"Yeah I do. Since the first time I saw you."

" Eddie I love you too"

#eddie munson #eddie munson x female original character #eddie munson x you #fanfic #eddie munson x plus size reader #eddie x reader #stranger things #eddie my beloved #eddie x plus size reader #eddie x y/n #eddie x fem!reader #eddie x you #eddie munson x female character #eddie munson x y/n

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blackacre13 · 2 years ago

Note

Please could you do part 2 of the simple favour au?

Part one; Here's part two!

“I’m not around this afternoon,” Lou frowned, turning back to Debbie. “But I can make some time tomorrow evening. Maybe you two would like to come over for dinner? I make some mean drinks.”

“Oh, I don’t let Dani—“

“For us,” Lou snorted. “Stevie lives off of juice boxes and sprite. Who do you think I am, Debbie?” She laughed, looking amused once more at Debbie’s naivety.

“Yeah, yeah,” Debbie backtracked. “Dinner would be great. Would 6 work?”

“It’s a date,” Lou smirked, waving Stevie over as she hugged the child before pushing her off with Dani as Danielle sent Debbie a small wave before the two ran inside. “Here’s my number,” she murmured, slipping a business card into Debbie’s pocket as the brunette swallowed thickly. “Do you like steak?”

“Oh, Dani doesn’t—“

“Do you like steak, Debbie?” Lou smirked again, one long leg starting to climb into the back of the car and hesitating, her multi-ringed fingers tapping against the car door as she waited.

“One of my favorites,” Debbie nodded.

“I think we deserve better than dinosaur chicken nuggets and macaroni and cheese, don’t you?” Lou chuckled, making Debbie’s stomach flip deliriously. “I’ll see you and Dani tomorrow,” she added, climbing into the car and closing the door before Debbie could answer, the dark car speeding away as Debbie stared after it with her mouth hanging open, unsure of what the hell had just happened.

Debbie pulled into Lou Miller’s driveway, unabashedly gawking at the size of the house and the way the drive wrapped around in an enormous circle, wondering if it was Lou’s husband who had three motorcycles parked on the edge of it and who each of the vintage cars belonged to. Lou’s driveway and its contents were probably worth more than triple Debbie’s house alone and if this were a time before Danielle and if Danny were still around, Lou would have probably been more of a mark than a playdate.

“Cute shoes,” Lou smirked, swinging open the door as she looked down at the heels Debbie was wearing.

“Thanks,” Debbie blushed, trying to tuck her hair behind her ear, suddenly feeling embarrassed and ridiculous for having worn them on purpose this time. “They’re yours. Well, not yours, of course. But you, um, designed them—well, you probably didn’t design them yourself, you probably have a whole team who—you—“

“You ramble a lot when you’re nervous, don’t you?” The blonde mused, peering around Debbie where Danielle was clinging to her thigh. “Dani,” Lou winked. “Good to see you again, kid. Stevie’s upstairs. Why don’t you run up there and join her? Her bedroom door’s wide open. Can’t miss it.”

Danielle gave Debbie a quick wave before barreling past the two women into the house and darting up the steps, her backpack flapping wildly against her back as Debbie heard Stevie shriek and giggle with delight.

“So,” Debbie smiled awkwardly, snapping her fingers nervously. “Are you married?”

“That depends,” the blonde grinned, studying Debbie like she was sizing her up, Debbie suddenly self-conscious in her simple jeans and blouse while Lou stood there looking runway ready in a designer suit that seemed to be tailor-made to her body. “You looking for a date?”

“Who, me?” Debbie laughed, the laughter getting too away from her with her nerves. Idiot, she chided herself, hating that she probably looked like a moron standing here talking to Lou Miller when she should have been at home, minding her business and paying her bills and drinking boxed wine while Dani watched tv. “No, no, no. Of course not. I just saw the motorcycles and thought—“

“It’s…complicated,” Lou offered, closing her eyes in frustration before the look dissipated from her face as if it had never been there in the first place, leaving Debbie feeling like she had gotten a glimpse of Lou she wasn’t supposed to quite see. “But yes, technically. The bikes, however, are mine,” she finished, whipping around as she started to walk into the house, gliding down the corridor as Debbie watched after her in awe, her heeled boots clicking along the tile. “Coming? Or dropping off? Thought you were having steak night with me?”

“Coming!” Debbie squeaked, stumbling into the house as she hurriedly closed the door behind her, feeling Lou stare at her as she fumbled messily with the lock. She whipped around to face Lou, only to find that the blonde had disappeared and was replaced instead with a large painting of…Lou. Stark naked. But her hair much darker, almost Debbie’s tone.

Lou shrugged, rolling her eyes at it.

“Used to dye my hair,” the blonde shrugged, like they were discussing the weather. “I get bored easily.”

“Who painted it?” Debbie swallowed, trying not to stare at the perfect swell of porcelain breasts or the gentle curves of her hips, feeling like she again was seeing more of Lou than she was meant to, even though it was on display in a home she’d been invited into. “It’s…terrific.”

“An almost famous painter,” Lou sighed, now frowning at it. “Back in New York.”

“Almost famous, huh?” Debbie pondered.

“Fucking bitch,” Lou grumbled, making Debbie’s head snap up suddenly as if she’d done something wrong, until she realized Lou must have been talking about the artist. “Music?” She asked, flicking on a remote before Debbie could answer, a swell of classic rock, swarming through the enormous home.

“Your house is incredible,” the brunette breathed, looking around in awe. “Simply gorgeous.”

“It’s a Fucking money pit,” Lou snorted, leaning against the marble counter with her hand under her chin.

“Oops,” Debbie smiled, pretending to zip her lips.

“Oops?” Lou asked, raising a perfectly manicured eyebrow.

“Sorry, it’s just with Dani, I had to break myself of cursing. Such a bad habit. I mean—if you want to—there’s nothing wrong with it—I just used to curse like a sailor and when Dani came to live with me I—force of habit. We have an oops jar for Dani.”

“You should smash that damn jar,” Lou grinned, shaking her head. “It might change your whole life.”

“I’m sorry,” Debbie sighed, feeling terrible for swooping in on Lou’s parenting style. Who the hell was she to judge this stranger in her own home?

“Stop it.”

“Stop, what?” The brunette asked, nervous again as she picked at her thumb.

“Stop saying you’re sorry,” Lou sighed. “It’s a fucked up female habit and you shouldn’t have to say it.”

“You’re right,” Debbie exhaled. Because she was. Women were always taking themselves down a notch or eight for no good reason. “That’s—that’s solid advice.”

Why was she such a hot, fumbling mess around this woman? But Lou didn’t seem to mind. If anything, she was amused.

“Come on,” Lou laughed. “Let’s get you a drink. Calm those nerves.”

“So your uh, kitchen. You must really love to cook,” Debbie cleared her throat, watching the blonde fiddle through the cabinet for some glasses.

“I used to,” Lou shrugged, placing two glasses down on the counter as she considered them for a moment. “But it was something Claude insisted on. I’d be just as happy with cartons of shitty Chinese food.”

“Claude?” Debbie asked, running an index finger along the cool countertop.

“My husband,” Lou rolled her eyes, starting to pour amber liquid into the glasses with a grimace on her face. “Surprised, right? I’d bet you were expecting a woman’s name. Me too,” she laughed, shaking her head. “Didn’t think it would take me until I was already knocked up and pregnant to realize I was gay,” she sighed, sliding a glass across the counter towards a stunned Debbie as she held hers up for a cheers. “Too much?” Lou snorted, leaving Debbie to wonder whether that was in regards to the information or the glasses filled to the brim with scotch.

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princessofprocrastination · 4 years ago

Text

You Live In Sweatpants And Hoodies (GeorgeNotFound)

MASTERLIST

pairing : georgenotfound / george x influencer!reader.

summary : george and your fans realize that under all the sweaters, you have a body.

a/n : if you are wondering what dress i was talking about, search up jennie short black dress :)

before social media, you studied law and got a degree in it but ended up not using it due to your social media career sky rocketing.

but you never thought studying was a waste, that could be your backup, after all. social media doesn’t last forever. and you were ready to accept any difficulties since you knew you had plan b.

you, till this day, could not describe what you do on social media. it started with tiktok. everything nowadays started with tiktok. but you were one of the first people who was on it.

and then tiktokers would make their way onto youtube to sustain their “career” and grow. so that’s what you did. you never abandoned that app, though. especially not now, everyone on that app is seriously hilarious.

your content on youtube was all over the place. once, for a video, you talked to weird men on omegle and tinder. another time, you would try different aesthetics on yourself.

but here’s the catch, you’ve never really worn revealing clothes. your mum had always told you to never deprive yourself from what she says “fun young girl things” which is dressing up, or down, in her say and go have fun with your friends.

but since the pandemic hit, you have had no where to go anyways, and you never really liked to show off your body. it’s not that you felt uncomfortable doing it, it’s just that you’ve never had the reason to.

you also didn’t grow up girly. you hated dresses, especially short and tight dresses. and you weren’t a fan of wearing shorts either. you always opted to go comfy.

whenever you post a tiktok, you always wore your signature hoodie and sweatpants that were clearly sizes too big for you. but you liked it, it’s comfortable to sleep in.

and whenever you had to pan down to show your outfits on youtube, you were always caught wearing jeans and a baggy shirt, just styled differently, according to the aesthetic of the video you were filming for.

you heard your phone ring from the couch. you picked it up, knowing who it was anyways. “morning, cutie.” you stared.

“morning b.” george greets you, hair everywhere, clearly just woken up.

you and george met on tiktok, just like all good friends do. he had duetted a tiktok of yours and you found him hilarious. you quickly followed him on every single social media platform he was in. you even set an alarm in case he ever streams and you’re asleep.

you two are close. some would say you two are dating, but you two haven’t figured it out yet. you two didn’t really want to disclose it anyways, you two knew your not so secret feelings for each other, anyways.

remember when he called you ‘b’? yeah that stands for ‘bub’. he thought it would be cute for him to have a different nickname than the usual “baby” or “babe”.

you two actually live very near each other, making it way easier as a couple, but since england was put into a quarantine order, you two didn’t meet often.

some would probably ask why you’d have to set an alarm when he streams when you two clearly are in the same timezone? well, that boy had no sense of time and a terrible sleeping schedule. it amazed you at how early he got up today.

that facetime call lasted about half an hour before you told him you needed to stream on twitch today, to which he responded to you that he’s watch it later.

today, you had a surprise. for the world. you can’t believe you even thought about this but it was about time you showed off to the world what assets you’ve been blessed with.

speaking of showing off. no, you weren’t a particularly insecure person, you were just comfortable in the clothes you’re in. but celebrating the long time you’ve been on social media, and it being your birthday, you thought it might be fitting.

george and you agreed to not make anything special about your birthday. you hated parties and large gatherings, and since you were still in the middle of a pandemic, you used that as an excuse to not go out.

you spent the longest time searching for a good enough outfit for this day. and you found it. you decided to pick a pretty simple dress, a black short dress that went to your mid thigh, that showed off your waist, spaghetti strapped and a little backless.

you walked out the shower, your robe on as you walked to your bathroom counters to dry your hair. you didn’t really bother to style it, just leaving you straight long hair down.

you put on the most basic white sneakers you could find to still make it casual, and you thought it went well together, anyways.

you finished you makeup and took a good look at yourself. you had been aware that you only wore baggy clothes, so this was a huge change. you twirled yourself, feeling confident.

you couldn’t wait for people to have heart attacks.

you sat on your gaming chair, getting ready to start your stream.

before you started your stream, you made sure you left your facecam turned off first.

you went live. chat was confused since this was the first time that you’re not on facecam. all they could see at the moment was the caption “IT’S MY BIRTHDAY!” that you typed on your notes app on your computer.

“hi, chat.” you said, to calm them down a little.

you heard your phone go off, a text notification. which you knew was george since he had a special notification ping on your phone.

it said “did you forget to turn on your cam?”

you laughed at that. “no, chat, i haven’t forgotten to turn on my facecam, just wait for a sec, please.”

you felt giddy, excited for the reactions.

instead of wearing your cute cat headphones, you wore your airpods instead to get the whole look going.

you let out a sigh before moving your mouse cursor to linger on the ‘start recording camera’ button. you clicked on it, before moving your chair back to fully say hi to your chat.

you brought your hands up to wave to the camera. you tilted your head slightly. “soooo, it’s my birthday.” you said.

chat was going crazy so you stopped reading them so you wouldn’t get a headache. the donations went crazy too, but you tried your best to read them all.

you thanked the people who subscribed to you or gifted you subs.

“360 of this dress? sure, i’ll give you a twirl.” you replied a dono.

you stood up, and rolled your gaming chair away so that they can see your whole outfit. you spun around once, quickly telling them where you got the dress from.

you tried to hold your foot on one hand, balancing yourself to show them that you could go casual in this dress too.

what you noticed was that, your phone hadn’t stopped beeping from a text notification, which belonged to the one and only georgenotfound.

and since maybe he noticed that you won’t check your phone, he sent a donation instead.

“WHAT THE FUCK.” the monotoned voice read out the donation, which was from george.

you facepalmed, knowing exactly what his reaction is like at home.

“I’M COMING OVER.” the voice said again. you laughed at his antics.

“see you then.” you replied, laughing, knowing he was joking around anyways.

GEORGE’S POV

she thinks i’m joking, isn’t she?

well, she gave me her spare key for a reason, and this would be the best reason.

i knew i wanted to come around anyways. just after her stream. i promised her no going out, but not no gifts and ordering in.

sneaky, i know.

i had a plan brewing in my mind. to walk in her house as quietly as possible, to surprise her.

after seeing her in that dress, i don’t think i can stand our fans not knowing we aren’t dating.

i know, i haven’t really asked her out, but we kinda both agreed that there was no use, knowing each other’s feeling was good enough and that we didn’t need to do anything extravagant.

i don’t know what she’s tell her fans but i’m sure i hadn’t disclose our relationship. the fans shipped us, sure, but i don’t think i’ve ever said it out loud.

we knew we’d have to say it someday. so i thought, why not today? as i surprised her at her own house.

her fans watching her stream are tweeting at me like crazy. no one had seen her like that. she practically lives in sweats and hoodies, constantly.

the most fitting thing i’ve seen her wear is skinny jeans, but she would always wear a baggy top with it. people always say she drowns in her clothes, but i never complained, she looked good either ways.

but seeing her in that dress, damn. i needed to be there and hug her, kiss her. i couldn’t wait to see her in that dress, right in front of my eyes.

our observant fans or close friends have asked if she dresses the same at home, and my answer always stayed the same. that she lives in baggy clothes.

there are some creepy people out there who would ask that question in a sexual way. thinking i’ve seen her in less. but truthfully, i haven’t. we’re not pass that stage, and we prefer it this way.

what the fans see is what i see on the daily, too.

and no, me going to her house to see her more clearly in that dress doesn’t mean we’re doing anything. i just want to observe her beauty. see what she’s hid from me.

YOUR POV

chat was going crazy over george’s donation. but you still laughed it off. it’s all a joke anyways, him coming over.

he was coming over later, after noon, so he wouldn’t just drop everything to see you right now.

“geez. chill out, chat, george was joking.” you told them.

you sat on your gaming chair more comfortably as you started playing a couple rounds of among us with your fans. you told them not to cheat and watch your stream as they’re playing ad lucky you, they listened.

for some reason, your chat still kept blowing up with george comments. maybe they were still caught up on that comment he said earlier.

but you hadn’t thought that he’d be behind you the entire time, telling the chat to not make it obvious.

“happy birthday, b” you heard a very familiar voice from behind you.

you almost had a whiplash from how quick you turned your head to see who was behind you.

you stood up to hug him, almost falling to the floor, stumbling on your own feet.

with the way you ran to him, he almost fell to the floor. “you’re here, you’re here.” you kept repeating it to him, not believing that he actually came. you knew he’d come later, but not this early.

george moved you back gently to see your full outfit. you two were aware that the facecam is still on, and pointing to you two, seeing every move.

“come here.” he whispered to you before grabbing your waist, to kiss you.

you two took a little while enjoying each other’s company, still in front of everyone on twitch.

he moved you back a little, turning you to face your gaming monitors. “MY GIRLFRIEND, EVERYBODY. isn’t she so hot, oh my god.” he said to the stream.

you laughed at his stupid antics, covering your face with your hands as you blushed.

your chat didn’t stop talking about the interaction, not believing that their ship was finally sailing.

you played a couple more rounds of among us with them, george taking over sometime or making funny comments to entertain your chat while you played.

after the stream, george and you took time to enjoy the time alone, ordering in your favourite food and opening gifts that he bought you.

you forgot to mention that both of your twitter was blowing up too much that you had to mute it for a while. you knew that a lot had screenshot the cute moment.

you took note to screenshot some of the photos on twitter later.

#georgenotfound #georgenotfound imagine #georgenotfound imagines #georgenotfound x reader

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bounce-a-coin-off-your-witcher · 3 years ago

Text

Subtext, by Calvin Klein

happy birthday @stinastar!!! I know it’s not the prompt you wanted, but I’ll write that too. :) Thank you so much for being awesome and so so sweet!

Legally Blonde au - modern - fluffy pre-getting together

depending on the comments I get on this, I might post a second part

tw: Geralt’s tragic backstory (foster care mention)

---

Geralt approached Jaskier slowly and kept his hands firmly in the pockets of his loose-fitting jeans. “What’s up-” he noticed the bunny ears poking up from Jaskier’s fluffy brown hair and added “-doc?”

The young law student looked up at Geralt through teary black lashes and let out another soft sniffle, his lips wobbling unattractively. Geralt hurried to drape his zip-up hoodie over Jaskier’s bare shoulders and take a seat on the wooden bench beside him.

The worried teacher’s assistant rubbed his hands up and down Jaskier’s arms through the material, trying to warm him up a little better. “Why are you dressed as a Playboy bunny, sitting on a bench in the middle of the night in this terrible New England weather?”

“I made a terrible mistake in coming here.”

“What?”

Geralt had never heard Jaskier sound so utterly defeated. Usually the student was bright and bubbly, congenial to a fault even when he made mistakes or answered incorrectly during class discussions. The charming brunette seemed to pull bucket after bucket from a nearly endless well of positivity; until now, apparently.

As he sat beside Geralt on the worn wooden bench, wearing the tight pink leotard and little wrist cuffs, practically glowing in the yellow-tinged lamplight, he seemed too ethereal to be real. Even as he shivered and sniffled, Jaskier looked too gorgeous to be human. Seeing him in such a distressed state was a little unnerving, like bumping into an old teacher outside of school or accidentally seeing your neighbors kissing through a window. It felt wrong.

“I followed the love of my life to this stupid fucking university and now he’s going to marry some fancy, well-bred blonde woman like his parents wanted and I’m going to flunk out of these classes with nothing to show for my time here and my parents are going to-”

“Hey,” Geralt interrupted, taking one hand from his pocket to place on Jaskier’s trembling knee. “It’s going to be okay. Breathe, Jaskier.”

“Right. Breathing. Yeah.”

“Are you… okay?”

Jaskier looked at him again and Geralt flinched away from the obvious hurt in his watery blue eyes. Of course he’s not okay, he’s sobbing alone on a cold bench in the middle of Halloween night.

“Jaskier, I’m sorry. I’m not good with words but- Wait... are you saying you came to school because of a man?”

“Y-Yeah. You could put it that way, I guess.”

Geralt yanked his hand away from the younger man’s knee and scooted backwards, away from the man he’d just been admiring. “Oh my god, that has to be the absolute stupidest thing I’ve ever heard. You came all the way to Oxenfurt University’s prestigious and award-winning Law School to hunt down a husband?!”

Jaskier looks taken aback. Startled and bewildered and sad, like a much smaller child rather than an adult man with a degree and a half. “Are you mad at me!?”

“A little bit, yeah,” Geralt laughed humorlessly. He shook his head, swiping one hand over his face on his way to tuck in a stray strand of white hair. “I worked two jobs to get myself through college. I was doing full-time classes and pulling sixty hour weeks at the bar and the grocery store; I don’t think I’ve had a full night’s sleep since I graduated high school. I certainly don’t know the meaning of the word vacation anymore... and you came here to follow some- some guy that you liked?”

“We’d been together for three years before he suddenly dropped me to pursue a degree in fucking bitter looking women, to be completely fair. And I managed to get a good enough LSAT score to qualify for admittance, so it’s not like I’m totally incompetent.”

“No,” Geralt nodded, a small, genuine smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “I guess that’s true.”

“No guessing involved,” Jaskier spat, tired and angry and flustered. “It is the truth, plain and simple. I deserve to be here and I will be successful.”

“Hmm.”

“Well why are you here, then, Mr. Grouchy T.A.?”

“I grew up in foster care and let me tell you, from experience, that the system is shit. If I had been forced to remain a foster child for any longer than I was, I probably would have become a match-happy little delinquent like my youngest brother, Lambert. Luckily my third foster parent, Vesemir, adopted me legally and made me his son. He already had one adopted son, my older brother, Eskel, and after me there was Lambert.”

Jaskier took a moment to contemplate Geralt’s story, pulling the sweatshirt closer around his shoulders and burrowing down into the neckline in a way that sent butterflies swirling through Geralt’s stomach rather unexpectedly. Then the younger man smiled at him, pearly teeth glinting in the light of the streetlamp. “That’s… that’s a little sad and a little sweet. It makes sense.”

“What makes sense?”

“The sadness and the sweetness,” Jaskier repeated, grinning a little more shyly than before. Geralt wasn’t sure, since it was so dark and he was so skeptical, but it almost looked like Jaskier was blushing. “Like you. Sweet, kind, caring, but a little melancholy. Anyway, I should be getting back to my dorm. I need to study.”

“I want my sweatshirt back,” Geralt said, standing and offering Jaskier a hand up. He wobbled to his feet, still wearing a pair of dangerously high black stilettos. Geralt knew this outfit would haunt his dreams for the next few weeks and cursed Hugh Heffner’s lingering spirit.

“If you’re lucky,” Jaskier replied, and click-click-clicked his way into the darkness.

Geralt honestly wasn’t sure he’d mind if Jaskier decided to keep it… maybe someday he’d wear it to class. And didn’t the thought of that send something odd and new and terrifying swirling in Geralt’s gut.

---

“Where are we going, exactly?” Geralt asked, eyeing the giddy brunette before him. Jaskier batted his long eyelashes at the grumpy T.A. and gave his sweetest pout.

“You trust me, don’t you?”

“Hmm,” Geralt’s eyes narrowed. “Yes.”

“Well then don’t stop now!”

The excitable young law student laced his fingers with Geralt’s and pulled him through the large glass doors and into the mall. When at last his eyes adjusted to the bright lights of the shopping center he asked: “What is this place?”

Jaskier grinned, taking a deep, dramatic breath. “A department store.”

Geralt rolled his eyes and took his own deep breath, his nose wrinkling in distaste. “What is that smell?”

“Love,” Jaskier replied.

“What!?”

“Love,” the student repeated, pointing at a sign with his free hand. It was large and pink and read LOVE, BY CHANEL in black block-letters. “There’s Love in the air.”

“Terrible joke, really,” Geralt teased. “But really, Jaskier, why are we here? You have plenty of clothes for court; I know because I’ve been in your closet and seen them firsthand.”

“We’re not here for me,” Jaskier elbowed his mentor and study partner gently in the side. Their hands were still interlaced in a way that made Geralt’s heart thunder dangerously against his ribs; love really was in the air, it seemed. Jaskier continued breezily, unaware of the older man’s roiling internal conflict. “I’m taking you shopping so that you have the proper outfit to wear when accepting Stregobor’s partnership offer.”

They had reached the men’s business section and the brunette released Geralt’s hand in order to dig through the racks of clothing. He was elbow deep in Calvin Klein and Kenneth Cole, hunting for jackets in Geralt’s size. “Jaskier, I can’t afford this kind of-”

“Hush,” Jaskier replied, waving his hand dismissively in his direction, letting it go limp at the wrist. “It’s a gift. No! Not a gift, a repayment.”

“I didn’t give you anything…”

Jaskier looked up from the selection of suits he’d been inspecting and shot Geralt a dangerous glare. “You most certainly did give me something, Geralt Roger Eric du-Haute Bellegarde! You looked past my bubbliness and my pink blazer and my previous degree and treated me like a person. You supported me and encouraged me without asking for anything in return so this is what I’m giving you.”

Geralt took a step towards him and sneezed. “What is that smell?”

An attendant appeared as if from thin air, a little glass bottle clutched in her hand. “It’s Subtext, by Calvin Klein!”

“It’s not really my thing,” Geralt frowned, closing the distance between himeslf and Jaskier as he made his apologies, “But thank you, regardless.”

“Let me know if you gentlemen need anything!”

Geralt stepped close enough to feel the heat of Jaskier’s body, still not brave enough to initiate touch. “Thank you.”

“It’s not a problem,” Jaskier grinned again.

Geralt considered the feelings that were stirring in his heart, driving through his veins, branching out through his mind so that all he could focus on was Jaskier...

It might be a problem, he thought, allowing himself to enjoy the moment. But it can be dealt with another time.

#legally blonde #legally blonde au #geraskier #geraskier ficlet #happy birthday stina #pre slash #legally blonde the musical #geraskier fluff #preslash #pre getting tgoether #getting together #bouncey's endless au collection

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qianinterprises · 3 years ago

Text

Among the Horses {Part One}

Pairing: farm boy!Jaehyun x female!Reader

Other Characters: OC's, Haechan (sorta, kinda, not really), Renjun (sorta, kinda, not really)

Genre: fluff, angst, country au, farmboys and lady's au, falling in love, slow burn, friends to lovers

Warnings: verbally abusive aunt, yelling, degrading (not the fun kind)

Word Count: 3.8k

Overall Synopsis: Being sent to live with your aunt isn't exactly something wonderful, especially because she's verbally abusive and downright determined to turn you into a "proper lady" who a wealthy man will want to marry. However, perhaps living there won't be so bad. After all, you've got a handsome farm boy teaching you to ride horses.

Part One Synopsis: Arriving at your aunts is very challenging and trying. After being put through the ringer with your attire, you finally get a chance to explore the green world, and spend more time with the farm boy who'd picked you up from the airport.

Author's Notes: So I started this a while ago and didn't really do anything with it, but I love it and I really wanna write more so yeah... Also, I've posted this on a03 as well.

Tagging: @treasuretaeil @hachanbaecon @hwangful

A white, dirty pick-up truck pulled off the main road and onto a long, winding dirt road, leading them closer to a grand house that you had only been to a few times in your life. The place you’d be living for the next year or two.

The truck bumped along the loose gravel, crashing over potholes, sending you bouncing on the very worn cloth of the cab, your eyes glancing worriedly to the male beside you, one of his hands planted firmly on the hard steering wheel, the other loosely placed on the stick shifter in the center of the bench.

“Are you sure the tires won’t… fall off?” your voice was thick and laiden with worry.

He glanced over at you, warm brown eyes gazing intently into yours, the opticals flecked with curiosity and amusement. Embarrassment crept under your skin.

“You haven’t been out here in awhile? Have you miss?” he asked, tone filled with friendly amusement.

You awkwardly scratched at your nose, a bit of a nervous habit she’d picked up over the years.

“No. My parents never had the money to travel.”

Your voice was small, etched in nervousness and anxiety.

He cast you a gentle smile as he pulled the truck around a sharp curve in the road, and there it was.

The house was huge, at least three stories high and stretched across the land it was perched upon. The foundation red brick that looked freshly cleaned (it probably had been), a contrast to the pearly white of the rest of the structure. The curves and contours of the slightly oddly shaped house made it more enchanting and nerve-wracking, especially as you grew closer, tires hitting the smooth cement before your driver moved the shifter and parked the truck.

“Head on in, miss, I’ll get your bags.”

His accent was a combination of Asian mixed with southern, an odd mix that somehow seemed so delicately smooth and perfect, especially the way he drawled over the “r’s”

“Miss?”

You’d been stuck in your thoughts, eyes wide as you surveyed the prospects of your new home.

“Right, yes, thank you,” you said softly, moving to get out, the door creaking as it was opened.

Your black, falling apart sneakers hit the tan pavement of the driveway, the hooks of your overalls rattling loosely against your torso as they accommodated your movements; the loose denim legs falling just above your knees as you pushed the dingy door closed.

The male you’d ridden with, Jaehyun, he said his name was, pulled the latch of the truck bed and reached up to grab your mismatched luggage, his sturdy frame pressing into the hot metal of the truck.

“Do you need some help?”

Your voice was small, mixed with worry and hesitation.

You’d do just about anything to prolong the inevitable.

“That’s quite alright, miss,” he began. “You should head on inside. The heat is a harsh place for a lady,” he answered.

You looked down, playing with your fingers, but you didn’t reply. Instead, slowly moving toward the brick steps that would lead to the entrance of the beautiful home.

Anina Lee was a strict lady. She liked things just a certain way and she got them how she wanted. She didn’t tolerate bad behavior or disobedience. And she had a strong dislike for people that got in her way. Thus, she had never been married.

She lived alone, if you count having two live-in maids, a chef, and a stable hand that slept in the barn as living alone.

Alina was your aunt. Your mother’s elder sister who had alienated your mother when she’d married a man of lower class. That same man later had a wife who blessed him with three kids to care for, spending his days fixing the cars of those more fortunate than him, hoping to make a buck for his family.

That’s why you were here. A young girl, coming of age to be married off and starting a family of your very own. Your family couldn’t support you any longer, and as you prepared to move away in hopes of finding some sort of job or a life, your aunt had hastlessly offered to take you in. Your mother had all too happily obliged, hoping her only and eldest daughter would learn a thing or two from the elder woman, maybe turn you into the lady your mother and father had tried for years to make you.

The stainless white door slowly opened and an older woman stood in the frame. She was clearly in her 50s, stress lines drawn thickly in her forehead, wrinkles in the corners of her dull gray eyes, deep lines around her nose and mouth, her neck sagging just a little beneath her sharp jaw. She was a small lady. On first glance one may have a hard time understanding what makes her so fierce. She was small in stature, small in size and in frame, but she had the tongue of a snake, the heart of a lioness, and the skill of a chimp.

“(Y/N)! You’re finally here!”

You stood a good few inches taller than the woman, but that made you more nervous if anything. You made her way up the steps and, as you reached the woman in the door, you were promptly pulled into a proper hug that severely lacked warmth.

“I can’t believe you got on a plane and sat amongst all those people in that ghastly attire. You must change at once!”

The woman’s voice was so shrill it could pierce glass, but you held back the flinch.

“Martha!” the same voice called into the house as she pulled you in, shutting the door and encompassing them in the cool air conditioning.

A larger lady appeared, dressed in stained blue jeans and an ugly yellow shirt.

“Please show my niece to her room and help her change into something more… feminine and lady-like,” her aunt’s voice commanded.

“When you’re finished dear, have Martha show you to my study.”

There was no endearing term in the word “dear.” Simply an icy addition to a perfectly manicured sentence.

You watched your aunts receding form, pencil skirt tight on her legs, black heels sharply hitting the hardwood intimidatingly.

“Come with me, dear. Let’s get you changed,” the larger lady spoke softly.

She was older, maybe 60 or so, her skin dark tan, although you couldn’t tell if it was the sun or her natural skin pigmentation. Her voice was grainy, but soft and endearing. Motherly she’d dare say. And you thought that this woman may actually make living here bearable.

You followed the lady up the grand staircase, up two flights of stairs and down a long hallway until you reached the end. The lady pushed open the thick white door and stepped inside, you following her closely.

Inside, the room was surprisingly rustic. A simple, full-sized bed with an obviously homemade comforter thrown across it. A light gray plush rug beside the bed. The hardwood floors were surprisingly and delightfully bare. One large section of the wall was home to a large bay window that stretched from the ceiling to the plush gray cushion of the bench. There were a few flower paintings and other pointless nicknacks scattered on obsolete surfaces around the room, but you paid no mind to them as your attention was drawn to the lady opening the large mahogany grand dresser and plucking out two cloths.

She unfolded both neatly, placing them on the bed and you sighed. The skirt was long and pleated, patterns of red and white stretched in an annoying kaleidoscope arrangement across the nearly pointless garment and the white shirt appeared to be partly transparent.

“Go ahead and get changed dear, I’ll help you when you finish,” she said kindly and turned her back.

You waited for her to leave the room but it was apparent she had no intention to. Awkwardly, you began unhooking the straps of your overalls, letting the fabric clang to the floor. Your skin heated up, feeling all too exposed before sliding into the skirt, the itchy elastic clinging to your hips uncomfortably. You pulled your stained blue t-shirt off, swapping it for the crisp white one that you feared you’d stain in the next few moments.

The lady turned around, her wide hips bumping into the dresser slightly. The dresser was sturdy enough not to jostle, but it was obvious the corner was sharp and painful. You almost felt bad at the way the lady’s face winced, but it was quickly pushed away as calloused hands began gripping the delicate skin of your arms, squeezing along the skin up your arms.

She tsked and turned around, rummaging through the dresser once again, only to turn around with a black, light cardigan.

You gawked. Why on earth would you wear that atrocious thing in this weather? It was the middle of August! Not December!

“I know. But if your aunt were to see your arms, she’d have a fit. She probably still will,” she said.

You sighed. Your aunt hadn’t changed one bit. Your skin was fragile. The tops of your forearms lightly tanned, a pigment passed on from your father. The rest of your arms and body entirely was light. Lady’s should be gorgeously sunkissed to be beautiful and to be taken seriously.

With a huff, you put on the long black sleeves, the intricately designed cotton draping over your shoulders perfectly. But that didn’t mean it was any more comfortable. You could already feel the added heat seeping onto your skin. You’d be sweaty and uncomfortable soon.

“Now let’s do something about your feet.”

You looked down; your worn socks had holes all through them, mud permanently stained to the sweaty fabric.

Bustling from the room, you were left stunned in the wake of the surprisingly fast woman, watching her round the corner and disappear down the hall to fetch something to apparently “fix your feet.”

You thought you’d do something to speed along the process. The more time spent getting you dressed in these ridiculous clothes, the less time you had to explore the outside world. You made your way to the bay window, taking a seat on the plush cushion that accommodated you nicely. You pressed your back against the edge of the wall and turned your gaze to the picturesque green world filled with surprisingly lush looking grass, dips and hills along the valley, and the tops of trees further off in the distance. All this land was yours for the roaming. You couldn’t wait to get out those doors and go exploring.

The sound of water sloshing in a pot brought your attention back from the window, glancing curiously as the large lady placed the pot down in front of the window.

“Put your feet in.”

You didn’t argue. You were hesitant, but thought better than to argue and have your aunt boil you alive in this pot.

As soon as your dingy, dirty, mud pasted feet hit the water, you hissed. The temperature felt that it could boil the skin right off.

“I’m sorry, I know it’s hot, but your aunt is expecting you down soon and I have to do this as quickly as possible,” the lady said.

Grabbing your left foot, she picked the appendage up from the water along with a suds coated dish sponge and began mercilessly scrubbing away at the tender flesh. You whined and howled, tears pricking to your eyes as your skin was scrubbed and abused by the harsh bristles of the brush. You attempted to yank your foot away, but the tight grip on your ankle prevented much movement. You were stuck suffering as the skin became reddened from the irritation.

As soon as the painful experience came to a close, your now pink feet were dried with a towel before being slid into a pair of eccentrically beaded, golden strapped sandals that accentuated the rest of the over-the-top outfit nicely.

“You seem presentable enough now, although I’m sure the mistress of the house would have a few unkind things to say about your wild mane.”

You tried not to take offense. You liked your hair. It was an untamed mop that curved wildly carefree, blowing in the breeze that picked up the thick tufts.

“Thank you for your help ma’am.”

She bowed at the waist, a kind smile on her lips.

“No need for the ma’am dear. Call me Martha, or Mrs. Rivera if you must.”

And with no more haste, Martha Rivera led you back down the grand staircase to the bottom floor, the tight flats biting at your heels and ankles with every step you took, fighting off the winces that followed. You rounded a few sharp corners, venturing into a large sitting room with an extravagant flat screen high on the wall and couches that looked brand new. Through a dining room, table decorated with a sequined bronze cloth and the finest China you’d ever seen, although that wasn’t really a stretch. Finally, they made it to a large oak door, cracked just enough that you could see your aunt’s silhouette sitting behind an elegant red desk, glasses perched on her nose, pen in hand, eyes married to the computer screen. Mrs. Rivera left you by the door, and you almost spun on your heel and walked away. But of course, that would be too easy.

“Come in child. Stop standing in the doorway.”

Your blood froze in your veins. You pushed the door open and stolled in, tripping over the lion skin rug, stumbling a bit before catching your balance. Harsh wisps of breath rushed past your aunt's lips and the chair creaked as the weight lifted from it.

You straightened your back, staring fearfully into the cold gray eyes that trailed over your face and down your clothes.

The woman began moving slowly around you, manicured nails and boney fingers tracing over the outline of your clothes and jaw, running through your wild mane and down your hands, inspecting the bitten off nails. As she walked, she muttered things like “hair won’t do” and “horrible posture” before she stood back in front of you.

“You simply won’t do,” she said sternly.

The words hit hard. You may have been expecting something like this, but it didn’t make the words hurt any less.

“You look like you’ve been sleeping with the horses. Your nails are pitiful. Your skin is far too light.”

She gripped your jaw, tilting your head up harshly to expose your still slightly chubby neck.

“Can you ride a horse?”

The question was sudden and it caught you off guard, but you answered as quickly as your brain would allow.

“N-no. I’ve never ridden before.”

The woman sighed loudly, hot puffs of air pouring out of her flared nostrils.

“That’ll have to change. Starting tomorrow, you will be taking riding lessons from the stable boy. Every lady should have the basic skills of riding,” her tone was cold and brisk as she looked away and perched back at her desk.

“You’re dismissed. Dinner is at 6. Don’t be late. You may roam the grounds.”

With a wave of her hand, she dismissed her niece and immediately went back to work, not bating another eyelash as you fled hastlessly from the room, your eyes welling with tears as stress and fear washed over you, although more relieved that it was over and you could finally do something for yourself. You’d start by ditching these God forsaken shoes.

You made your way around the back door of the house, more by pure necessity than memory, simply logically thinking the best way around in the expansive flooring. When you made it, a smile broke across your face as you unfastened the painful shoes, kicking them off in a sloppy jumble by the door before opening the heavy door, the heat of the afternoon hitting your face, not that you minded.

As you stepped out, bare feeting meeting hot cement, you stripped the cardigan from your shoulders, draping it over a random, sun baked chair. You tore off through the grass, laughing giddily, breeze blowing wisps of your hair, skirt fluttering delicately over your skin. It would be difficult to do anything in the blasted thing, but you wouldn’t give yourself enough time to strip down into something better, opting to enjoy the last of the day while you could. And you’d start in the bright red barn your eyes immediately fell on.

Making your way through the soft grass that squished under the weight of your feet, you strolled into the half open barn, the soft snorts of animals bringing a smile to your lips. Just because you couldn’t ride, doesn’t mean you didn’t love the animals. You loved horses especially. They were such beautiful and majestic creatures. You’d always wanted a horse, but your family had never been able to afford one. You’d always wanted to ride, and now you could, although you didn’t understand why it was so important to your aunt.

The cool concrete felt rough beneath your feet, stray straws of hay littering the floor. It could have been a picture straight out of one of the Country Living magazines you’d kept hidden away at your parents home.

The first horse you came upon was a tall brown animal, head hung over the stall door, ears perked to attention, eyes trained on the new invader inside the barnhouse. He snorted at you and his hoof hit the barn door lightly in an attempt at getting closer. You stepped closer, slowly offering your hand out, letting the animal sniff searchingly.

“He’s looking for some sugar cubes.”

The voice came out of nowhere, interrupting your serenity, a yelp leaving your lips as your whole body jolted in the sudden fright.

You turned your head to the barn door where your driver was standing, taunt arms crossed over a broad chest, veiled from prying eyes by a lightweight flannel shirt, the sleeves rolled up to the elbows. His long legs were clad in dusty denim, mud and hay from his knees to the tops of the worn work boots.

“I’m sorry. I just like horses-”

“And you thought you’d come visit them?” he finished your sentence.

You immediately began shuffling your feet, eyes turning back to study the fading paint on the stall to keep from facing him.

Heavy footsteps hit the floor as the male moved closer until he was close enough to touch. His large, rough hand gripped your wrist lightly, bringing it up toward him. You let out a little yelp, riddled with confusion and curiosity until three small blocks were placed in your palm.

“Hold your palm out to him and don’t jerk away,” he spoke calmly, slowly urging you.

You nodded, having some sort of unkempt trust in his words as you turned back to the animal and extended your arm, palm flat, cubed sugar offered to the horse, who greedily munched them right out of your hands.

“His name’s Haechan. He’s a bit of a character.”

You nodded, drawing your now horse-slobbered hand away, opting to stroke the animal's fur from his nose to between his eyes.

“That’s an interesting name,” you said.

He hummed behind you and you heard his boots hitting the concrete as he moved away.

“Do you like animals?” he asked.

You spun around, eyes wide and shining.

“Yes! I love them! Sometimes I prefer animals over humans!”

His smile was gentle as he surveyed your physique, a dusty pink tinting his cheeks, although you thought nothing of it.

“Come on, I want to show you something,”he said, walking past you to the opposite exit of the barn.

You followed close behind, curious as to where he was taking her. Your feet fell back onto the grass, the long blades sliding between your toes as you followed in his wake. As they walked, a white picket fence came into view, not far from the barn, but oddly well hidden beneath the crest of a hill rolling through the land. Once you reached the fence, his hands curled around the boards, hoisting himself up, foot balanced on the bottom board as he climbed up, throwing a leg over one side, then the other, and jumping down. You stared at him in awestruck confusion.

“Climb over, I’ll catch you on this side.”

You didn’t know why you blindly trusted him. You didn’t know him from a random stranger in the town, but you complied, placing your foot onto the same board he had, pulling yourself up and swinging a leg over, then another. The skirt snagged in the boards a few times, one of your feet nearly slipping off the boards as you attempted to keep it pushed down. This proved to be more of a challenge as you balanced on your heels, hands clutching the top piece of wood as you contemplated how to get down now. That is, until his arms outstretched, slightly bent at the elbow, fingers parted, palms facing one another, and you knew what he wanted you to do. Taking a deep breath, you pushed off with your left foot, hands releasing your grip on the fence, letting yourself drop, eyes squeezing in slight fear that you’d soon flop hard against the green earth. But when strong hands caught your waist, arms drawing you in, broad chest breaking your fall, you braced herself against him, feet carefully being lowered until they pressed back into the earth.

“See, that wasn’t so bad.”

His teasing tone had you pulling away, glaring playfully at him before turning and pretending to walk away, leaving him in your path.

At least, until you heard a rustling in the long grass inside the fence.

You squeaked as it grew closer taking a step back as your harsh gaze followed the rustling of the grass, positive a snake would wrap itself around your leg as it dug its venomous fangs into your soft flesh.

Needless to say, you were in for quite a shock when the small head of a brown and white calf popped up from the grass.

And you were sinking to your knees.

The calf moved toward your lowered body, sniffing at your arms until you reached out to run a hand down it’s small head and back, cooing quietly, eyes brimming with unfiltered delight as you wrapped your arms around the baby, stroking the fur of its back lovingly.

“This is Renjun. He’s my little cousin's calf.”

You didn’t say anything. You didn’t have to. Your cooes of joy were enough to show every emotion you were currently feeling.

Horrible aunt or not. You could certainly find worse places to be trapped. At least here you had rolling hills of green, beautiful animals to fawn over, and Jaehyun, handsome stableboy who you couldn’t wait to get to know.

#ficscafe #klibrary #kdinernet #supermwritersnet #jaehyun x reader #nct x reader #farm au #farm living #horses #cows #jaehyun x y/n #jaehyun x you #original character #friends to lovers #slow burn #series #nct series #jaehyun series

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farfromsugafanfic · 4 years ago

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Sutures - Chapter Eleven: Right Place

Genre: Soulmates AU, Idiots to Lovers, slight Enemies to Lovers

Pairing: Yoongi/Named Reader

Warnings (chapter specific): mentions of anxiety (sort of), exes who won’t leave you alone, family hospitalization, mentions of death

Synopsis: “A person often meets his destiny on the road he took to avoid it.” –Jean de la Fontaine

There was only one thing you and Min Yoongi had in common that night. You were both brokenhearted. You only intended to be together for one night, but when you both end up in the hospital the next day you discover that you are soulmates. It could kill you to be apart. As you and Yoongi attempt to sever the bond between you, will another be formed?

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You swung your legs towards the seat across from you, but they were just barely too short and they fell straight back down which caused Yoongi to chuckle. He sat diagonally from you with his feet resting on the seat beside you. He wore headphones and had his laptop in front of him. You hadn't even realized he was paying attention to you.

You held your knitting needles and your creation was nearly done. Yoongi had told you about his family dog--Holly--and you remembered seeing his picture in Yoongi's studio. You were knitting a small scarf that would tuck easily around his collar. You wished you had more time to make him something like a jacket, but Yoongi had sprung the trip on you, planning and taking on a large project like that took weeks to complete.

The scenery on the train flew by so quickly you could hardly make it out and it made your head spin if you tried for more than a few seconds.

"You seem quiet," Yoongi said. He hadn't taken his headphones off and you laughed at the thought that he simply had them in as a habit.

"You were working. I didn't want to disturb you."

Yoongi shrugged and lowered his laptop screen and allowed his headphones to fall around his neck. "You seem nervous." His gaze lowered down to your fingers that continued knitting as you spoke and looked into his eyes. You hadn't even noticed the way your fingers continued the pattern.

"I mean, I want to make a good impression on your family. I know we're not really together or anything, but I'm your soulmate and if they don't like me--"

"Exactly, you're my soulmate," Yoongi said. "Finding each other was less than one in a million. Almost less than one in a billion. And, don't they say that soulmates are often not just compatible with the person, but their family as well?"

"That's been the case so far," you said, remembering reading the Wikipedia article on the handful of other soulmate couples. "But, soulmate science is new and imprecise. And, I imagine for those who are different from their families or don't have good relationships with them, that can't always be true."

"I have a feeling they will like you," Yoongi said. "You don't have to worry."

You didn't get a chance to respond as the train lurched to a stop and announced its arrival in Daegu. The doors opened and you stood up. You and Yoongi had had the train car to yourselves, so you were able to stand up and grab your suitcase immediately.

"Are the press gonna be here?"

"I don't know," Yoongi said. "We didn't officially announce this trip, but I wouldn't be surprised if someone is following us."

You nodded. It was becoming familiar to see camera flashes and your face used as a cover photo. The thought of growing used to it sent a shiver down your spine as you extended the handle on your suitcase.

Yoongi stood beside you and your eyes met briefly causing his lips to turn upwards in a small smile. He reached up and pulled the mask you'd forgotten was looped around your ears and hanging around your chin up over your lips and nose.

"Just in case," he said.

---

You hadn't seen a single camera as you neared Yoongi's parent's place. You weren't sure if it was a blessing or a curse. Just because you couldn't see the cameras, didn't mean that they weren't there. You half expected to see a picture of you and Yoongi getting off the train in Daegu pop up in your newsfeed.

"We're here," Yoongi said. The car stopped and Yoongi was immediately out and walking around to open your door. You stepped out and gripped the handle of your suitcase, the bones of your knuckles feeling like they were about to burst through your skin.

Yoongi walked slightly in front of you and opened the door. The first thing you heard was a high-pitched barking and before you could catch sight of Holly, the brown full-sized poodle was jumping up on you in greeting.

"You must Holly," you said, crouching down and allowing the dog to rest its front half on your lap. "I've heard a lot about you."

"Ah, I'm right here." Yoongi's face contorted into a look of simultaneous amusement and jealousy.

You laughed as you ruffled the dog's ears and crouched down so he could lick your chin. "Oh, you're so sweet." You reached into your purse and pulled out the scarf you finished on the train ride and carefully tied it around his neck.

"Oh!" you heard someone exclaim from the other end of the room. "I wasn't expecting you two for another hour. Dinner isn't done yet."

"It's fine. We have to get settled anyway."

Yoongi's mother's eyes widened as she met yours. It was as if she had just noticed you. She stood just a few inches shorter than Yoongi and you could see they shared many features. From the slope of the nose to the way her eyes seemed to narrow in on you, the same way Yoongi's did in certain moments.

"You must be Sumi," she said. "It's so nice to finally meet you."

She reached out and pulled you into a hug. You tensed as she wrapped her arms around you. From everything Yoongi told you about his family, they were not outwardly affectionate people and so you had expected at most a firm handshake.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I just feel like you're part of the family already." She glanced over at Yoongi and back at you. "I haven't seen Yoongi this happy for a long time."

"Oh," was all you could get out. Yoongi had told them you were trying to sever the relationship, right?

---

Yoongi met his mother's gaze. Her eyebrow slightly arched, a look Yoongi had seen many times. Holly broke the silence with a bark signaling for you to reach down and pet him again. You crouched down so your face was level with his and allowed him to lick your chin.

Yoongi couldn't help but smile as he watched you. Your hair was ruffled from the train ride and he noticed the way your shaking hands calmed as they ran through Holly's fur. He crouched down next to you and met your eyes, a small smile simultaneously appeared on both your faces.

"I've never seen him warm up to someone so quickly," Yoongi said, ruffling the dog's ears.

"I guess he just likes me."

"Yeah," Yoongi said, his voice an octave quieter. "I guess he does."

Yoongi's phone buzzes in his pocket. His hand reaches for it, but he doesn't want to leave this moment. It wasn't like he was reliant on his phone, but with an upcoming album and the other members working on it in his absence, he couldn't ignore it.

Jihee's name appeared on his screen and his widened. He hadn't blocked her number purely because the texts after the break up stopped and with the whole soulmates thing, he'd honestly forgotten.

Yoongi opened the text and found a screenshot from Instagram where she'd posted a picture of herself laying on a bed with her legs straight up in the air. It wasn't the familiar slope of her calves or the arch of her back that caught his eye, but rather the black pumps she wore.

He recognized them instantly as the ones you'd worn and abandoned the night he'd met you and the ones you'd failed to get back from Minki. Yoongi had no idea how Jihee got a hold of them, or how she even knew their significance.

He screenshot the text and emailed it off to the legal team at BigHit. He knew the post would probably gain some attention, but he trusted it would be seen for what it was, an attempt to seek attention.

Blocking her number, he slid the phone back into his pocket. Yoongi knew he should tell you, but watching the way you adjusted the scarf around Holly's neck, he decided he'd tell you later.

---

Yoongi was starving and watched as each dish was placed on the table. His parents had made a bit of everything and as soon as everything was set he quickly reached for braised pork and his mom's homemade kimchi.

You grabbed a bit of everything and mixed it together with your rice. Yoongi reached out and grabbed a few more pieces of meat and set them in your bowl.

"You didn't eat much this morning."

Your eyes widened and Yoongi thought he caught your lips curl into an embarrassed smile.

"Sumi," Yoongi's mother said. "I'm so happy you came into Yoongi's life. We were getting a bit worried Yoongi would never find someone who made him truly happy." She glanced over at Yoongi's father. "Even in his past relationships, I never saw Yoongi like this."

Yoongi felt the heat rush to his ears and his feet fidgeted under the table.

You--despite Yoongi seeing the way you fiddled with your chopsticks indicating your nerves--smiled. "Well, I didn't really have a choice." You laugh, which normally made Yoongi's heart jump, this time made it fall.

While it was entirely true that you and Yoongi hadn't a choice in getting to know each other, there was a part of Yoongi that didn't want this to end. He wanted to see you play with Holly, see your hair splayed over your face in the morning, and your small smile when he gave you more meat.

"I am happy I met Yoongi though," you said. "Even if we can't spend the rest of our lives together and this is all some weird biological thing, these past few weeks getting to know Yoongi have convinced me that we are truly soulmates. I don't think soulmates always have to be romantic or end up together, we just get each other."

The table fell silent. But, it was content and for the remainder of the meal, the only sounds heard were light conversations and the sounds of eating. Yoongi couldn't help the swelling feeling he felt in his chest. He worried he would suddenly float off the seat like a balloon if he didn't try to stifle it.

You set down your chopsticks. "Thank you for the meal. I'll clean up my things and head to bed."

"Oh, no need to clean up. You're our guest. Yoongi, why don't you show her to your old room? I'll set you up a bed on the couch."

"Ah, mom, we're soulmates. Is that really necessary?"

"Yes," his mom said. "Maybe the poor girl wants a break from you."

His mom's quip made you laugh and he let out a sigh. "All right," he said. "Come on."

---

Yoongi led you to his childhood bedroom. When he opened the door, you were met with Epik High posters and notebooks lining the shelves of his bookshelf. You smiled at how distinctly Yoongi it felt. While it obvious his room hadn't changed much from when he first left home, you could still see hints of the man Yoongi would become. From the basketball trophies to the books about music production.

"Hey, I need to talk to you about something."

Yoongi's demeanor changed as he closed the door. "I got a text from Jihee earlier. She somehow got ahold of your shoes and posted with them. I sent everything to the company and I'm sure they will take care of it. I just wanted to warn you in case this blows up--"

"I trust you, Yoongi," you interrupted. "They've already said everything they could. It can't get worse than it already is and I know you'll do your best to take care of it."

You flopped down onto the bed and patted the bed beside you. Yoongi laid beside you. Your bodies were centimeters apart, but you didn't touch.

"Your parents didn't like Jihee, did they?"

Yoongi shook his head. "No," he said. "They tolerated her because I liked her, but they said they never pictured her as part of the family."

"Mine never liked Minki either." You were silent for a moment. "Maybe they knew somehow."

"Maybe," Yoongi said, his fingers brushing against yours. You turned and noticed he was still looking up at the ceiling, seemingly not noticing how his hand wandered to find yours. You wondered if it was a side effect of being soulmates. Your hands would always find each other.

The moment was severed when your phone rang. It was your mom and your stomach turned as you realized it was 5 am there.

"Hello?" You didn't care that Yoongi was in the room anymore. In fact, something kept you clinging to his hand.

"Sumi? You need to get here. Grandma's in the hospital and they don't think she has much time left. We're gonna leave her on life support until you get here because we know she would want you here. I don't know if it's possible without risking your own health and Grandma will understand--"

"No, I'm coming. I'll find a way. Give me a couple days. I'll be there, okay?" Your eyes were filled to the brim with tears and after you said your goodbyes, they rushed out. You weren't cognizant, but when you opened your eyes, you were folded into Yoongi's chest.

"Did you hear everything?"

Yoongi nodded. "I've already called a car to take us back. We'll be back in Seoul in a few hours."

"Yoongi, what are we going to do? You have a comeback soon. You can't just come with me to California."

"Shh, we'll figure it out. Just get your things together, okay?"

You nodded and got off the bed to collect your things. "Yoongi," your voice was still hoarse and barely there. "Thank you."

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berrynarrybanana · 4 years ago

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sounds just like a song - ws pt. 3

A/N: This is a rewrite...I did not edit...and I just...might have added a few things that some people will hate me for. I love you all though :)

Warnings: Mentions of ex girlfriends, mentions of bullying, self doubt, smut for sure, alcohol obvi, and...maybe other stuff?

Word count: 10K

Watermelon Sugar masterlist

July 14, 2018 Bea’s POV

“I find it kind of hysterical that we had to sneak off to a bathroom to say goodbye properly.” I let out a series of girlish giggles, dropping my head against the door as Harry continued to kiss down my neck. “Harry-”

“I don’t want to say goodbye yet.” His words were muffled by the skin of my neck. “Give me five more minutes.”

“Champagne makes you needy.” I gasped, lifting my hips up when he bit a little harder than the few times before, his tongue immediately swiping over the skin. “Fuck, that feels so nice.”

“I bet it does.” He hummed out, his chest vibrating under my palms as he tilted his head up to nip at my earlobe. “I can’t wait to have you all to myself.”

“Believe me, I can’t either.” I pressed my palms against his chest, slightly holding him back from my body. “But you have to get to soundcheck eventually, and I have plans with the girls.”

“I know.” He sighed, raking his fingers through his hair. “I just….fuck, I think I’d take you with me everywhere if I could.”

“I’d gladly follow if I didn’t have prior engagements.” I gave him a soft smile, brushing my thumb over the collar of his shirt. “We’ll only be apart for a few hours, that’s not so bad.”

“It can be when we know our time is limited together.” He nibbled on his lower lip. “We only have until Tuesday-”

“Which means we still have three days.” I reminded him. “Besides, I’ve spoken to Claire about Saturday, and I think I might be able to sneak away.”

“Yeah?” His brows lifted, a grin pulling at the corners of his mouth. “Well, I guess it’s a date then.”

“I guess so.” I chuckled. “Now, give me one more good kiss before I go.”

Harry smirked, his dimple flashing as he leaned forward like a shark chasing after it’s prey.

🐙🐙🐙🐙

Harry’s POV

I pressed the key to my Tesla into Bea’s palm as I kissed her forehead.

“Don’t argue with me.” I whispered, glancing down at her as she squinted up at me. Her empty hand rose to her forehead, shielding her sensitive, blue eyes from the california sun . “Just take my car so you don’t have to uber around, and we can drive it home tonight from the venue.”

“But Harry.” She sighed, licking over her bottom lip as she looked back at my car. “That thing costs more than...well, everything I own.”

“Shut up.” I snorted, rolling my eyes at her before I stole another kiss. “Take it, okay? It’s just a car, and it literally can drive itself. If you have any questions about it, just shoot me a text and I’ll respond.”

“This is unnecessary, but I really appreciate the gesture.” She smiled. “Thank you for not leaving us stranded.”

“I would never.” I pressed one more kiss to her lips, my fingers squeezing her sides. “Alright, go have fun with your friends. Send me a few pictures while you’re out, yeah?”

“I will.” She took a step back, watching me with an almost sad smile. “I’ll see you in a few hours, darling.”

“I’ll see you in a few hours.” I repeated back to her. “Be safe, and have fun.”

“You too.”

I turned on my heel, checking both ways before I jogged across the street to the car Gemma and Michael drove to brunch. I slipped into the passenger side, shutting the door with a quick huff as I reached for my seatbelt. I looked across the street as Bea turned to Claire, her arms crossing over her abdomen as the wind blew her long cardigan around her body.

“She’s a wonderful girl.” Gemma gave me a smile, her eyes practically sparkling. “Mum thinks so too.”

“You’ve told Mum about her?” I asked her, pushing my sunglasses up with raised brows as Gem smiled wider. “Gemma, tell me-”

“I didn’t tell Mum, The Daily Mail did.” Gemma rolled her eyes, putting the car in drive before she pulled out of her parking spot. “The bloody paps have already sold pictures of us at brunch to the rags, and I guess a few fans got some snapshots of you and Beatrice entering and leaving the bathroom.”

“Grand.” I huffed, slumping in my seat. “I didn’t want that for her.”

“Harry, she’s a smart girl.” Gemma said. “She knows what she’s getting into with you. She might not know the extent of what she’s getting into, but she knows enough about it.”

“I just don’t want them to chase her off.” I mumbled, pulling my phone out of my pockets, pressing my finger to the home button. “She’s got such a good heart, Gemma. She doesn’t deserve to have her name raked through the mud because of some asshole like me.”

“She doesn’t think you’re an asshole, and I guarantee if I asked her right now, she would say that you're worth it.” Gemma glanced at me with furrowed brows. “Don’t be bothered by it, Harry. Beatrice seems like a strong girl, and she’s got a decent sized support group to look after her.”

I sighed, biting my lower lip before I nodded.

“Yeah, you’re probably right.” I whispered. “I just can’t help but worry about her.”

“I think that’s natural.” Gemma hummed out. “But I do have to say, this is the first time you’ve ever been worried about your bird and not yourself when it comes to being in the papers. You aren’t even a little bit annoyed that they plastered your face on the front page.”

“I couldn’t care less about myself right now.” I cleared my throat. “She’s not used to this, I am.”

“Well, maybe you should just have a talk about it.” Gemma said. “And you should definitely call Mum before she decides to fly over here to meet Bea herself.”

🐝🐝🐝🐝

Bea’s POV

“Do you think I can pull this off?” I held the maroon colored bodysuit up, twisting the hanger around as I looked at the lack of fabric. “I mean, it’s really cute, but I’m just-”

“Perfect in every way, shape, and form.” Tara pressed her hands to my shoulders, kissing my cheek as I rolled my eyes at her. “I think you would fucking kill in that thing, babe. It’s perfect for your body shape.”

“My body shape is blob, Tara.” I glanced back at her with a wild expression, shaking my head as she laughed. “What could I do for this thing?”

“You have a fucking hourglass figure.” Jackson snorted out a laugh. “And you keep it locked up all the time, so let it out.”

“But I have a tummy.” I lowered the bodysuit, turning towards my friends. “Won’t that look a little unflattering if I just walk around with my stomach sticking out? And my arms-”

“Go put the damn thing on.” Tara carefully ushered me towards the dressing room, snagging a belt and a leather jacket along the way. “Try it, I think you’ll like it.”

I inhaled sharply, pushing the velvet curtain aside before I slid it shut again. I put the items down on the bench in front of the mirror, wiping my palms on my pants as I tried to soothe my nerves. It wasn’t like I was anxious about trying on clothes, I just hated the entire process. I had to undo my shoes, slide my pants off, put the bodysuit on, and then put my pants back on. After I finished all of that, I’d have to do it over again to get redressed. I started the process, balancing my hand against the wall as I stood on one foot. It took me a few minutes, but when I finally finished getting into the bodysuit, I looked at my jeans with a heavy frown.

“Hey, Tara?” I moved the curtain aside, catching her attention. “Can you find me black jeans? I don’t think this shade of blue is gonna look good with the maroon.”

“Yeah, give me a sec.” She turned on her heel, strutting towards the jeans without a care in the world.

I pulled the curtain back before I turned to face the mirror.

The bodysuit had a bottom that was far more comfortable than any other bodysuit I’d worn. It was almost as if it had a pair of boyshorts at the bottom, the material stretchy and comfortable as I moved around. I especially enjoyed the zipper on the side that made it easy to slip on. I didn’t have to flail around like a fish out of water to pull it over my hips or to get it zipped up either. It was absolutely perfect, and the more that I looked at myself in it, the more I loved it.

I twisted and turned, looking at myself from different angles as I waited for Tara to return with a pair of jeans for me. As I turned around, admiring my bum in the pair of cheeky boy shorts, an idea popped into my head. Harry did ask me to send him pictures throughout the day so that he would feel like he was with me. I rolled my lips in, holding back a giddy laugh as I thought of sending him a picture of me in just the bodysuit. It was quite a scandalous idea to me, though I knew there were people who’d sent pictures of far more intimate things to their boyfriends.

I nibbled on the inside of my cheek as the wheels in my brain turned. On one hand, I knew that Harry would never say anything insulting to me about my picture. He would never point out a flaw, or offer a backhanded compliment. He would tell me that he loved it no matter what I sent, I knew that...but I was still nervous to show him my body in such a vulnerable state.

I didn’t even know how to pose for those types of things, and surely someone else would need my dressing room before I finished figuring out the perfect post. I hesitated, my heart beating faster and faster in my chest. I finally grabbed my phone with a heavy exhale, trying my best to expel all of the negative energy from my body as I swiped over to my camera app.

I held the phone up, tilting myself to the side before I looked at the screen of my phone.

I groaned when I saw how I actually looked in the bodysuit.

My legs were far too short, and my skin was far too pale.

I looked like an old picture of me as a chubby child in a bathing suit, my stomach pushing out ever so slightly and the skin of my thighs dimpled. I rolled my eyes, pushing away the tight feeling in my chest as I lowered my phone down. It was no use even trying to take a picture of myself for Harry. The lighting of the dressing room wasn’t exactly helping me too much either.

“If you want to take a picture, you weren’t doing it right.” Tara’s voice interrupted me, causing me to jump as I looked back at her. “You need to learn your angles, babe.”

“How long have you been standing there?” I asked, pressing my hand to my chest.

“I walked in when you started pouting at your phone.” She snorted out a laugh, tossing the jeans onto the bench. “Give me your phone.”

“I don’t think-”

“Listen to the master.” She glared at me, holding her finger in the air. “Do exactly as I say, and we’ll get the perfect set of naughty pics for your man.”

“Tara-” I felt my cheeks growing warm, my eyes growing wide as she swirled her finger around.

“Turn around and drop it girl, Harry will literally have a heart attack.” Tara said.

“I’ve never dropped it, and I never will.” I crossed my arms over my chest. “I’m not….I don’t like my ass, okay?”

“It is one of your best features, babe.” Tara looked at me over my phone, a soft look in her eyes as she sighed. “Do you feel insecure?”

“No, I just…” I shifted on my bare feet. “I’m just not as confident as I could be, that’s all. I’m working on it.”

“I truly think this will help.” Tara said softly. “We’ll save dropping it low for the wedding pictures, okay? For now, just… turn towards the mirror and stick your left over your right...that’s perfect Bea! Now just turn your head to the side, hold your hands in front of your stomach, and glance back at me like you’re modest.”

“I am modest, you heathen.” I grumbled, following her instruction as she snapped a few pictures. “How did that look?”

“Perfect.” She said. “Your hair did a lot of work, and we got the perfect shot of your ass without making it the focus.”

“Oh my god, I don’t want to see it.” I groaned, turning towards her with a pout on my lips. “Can you see-”

“How positively exquisite you look in that bodysuit?” She asked. “Yes, you can. Now put the pants on and sit on the bench for me.”

I did as she said, sitting down on the edge before I crossed my legs. I extended them out, pressing my palms to the edge of the bench before I turned my head just like Tara asked me too. I wasn’t sure how she managed to avoid putting herself in the photo, but she did an excellent job of getting me in a raw, natural state with a smile on my face.

When we were done playing around, I changed back into my old clothes before tossing the bodysuit, the belt, and the jeans over my arm. All three articles of clothing would be going home with me, and they would carry this memory with them forever. Tara handed me my phone back with a proud smirk, the device buzzing in my hand as I noticed a picture of Harry on the screen.

“You sent them already?” I asked her. “Fuck, I’m not prepared.”

“Go take the phone call.” She said. “Give me your shit, I’ll get you checked out.”

I handed her my purse and the clothing before I answered the phone, holding it to my ear.

“Hi.” I said softly.

“You’re trying to kill me.” Harry whined out, his voice strained. “When I said send pictures, I meant ones with you doing innocent things. Now I have to wait for hours to touch you again, and all I can think about is you in that changing room.”

“I thought it might be a nice preview of things to come.” I bit my bottom lip as I crossed my free arm over my stomach. “I hope that you liked them.”

“I fucking loved them.” He said. “I plan on having them framed.”

“No you don’t.” I rolled my eyes. “No one wants to see those hung up in a gallery anywhere.”

“That’s not a bad idea…” He hummed out. “I wonder if the Guggenheim will take them?”

“Stop being so cheeky.” I tossed my head back, laughing loudly. “I allow you to put one in your wallet, so that you shall have to squint to see any flaws.”

“That just won’t do.” He tutted softly. “I’m putting them in my house, in large frames! I might even commission an artist to paint you like a little renaissance princess...but you’d have to send me one without the lacy thing for that.”

“In your dreams.” I mumbled, snorting out a soft laugh. “Have you done rehearsals yet?”

“Just about to go on stage and test it all out.” He said. “I was at the mic stand when I got those pictures by the way. I might have had to wobble off stage to take care of some things before I called you up.”

“Did you jack off to those?” I asked him bluntly. “Holy fuck, there’s no way-”

“Um, yeah, I did.” He said plainly. “My girlfriend sends me pictures of herself in lingerie, giving me bedroom eyes, and you expect me not to get hard? You’re insane.”

“You are insane.” I chuckled. “I’m happy to give a little inspiration to you in such desperate times, darling.”

“You sound so smug right now, honey.” His voice was soft, but there was a teasing edge to the tone of his voice that sent shivers down my spine. “Just you wait until I get on that stage tonight. I’ll have you dripping down your legs the second I walk out, and you know it.”

“Fuck.” I all but wheezed the word out. “Maybe I should cut my shopping trip short?”

“Now, now.” He taunted. “I don’t think your friends would like that very much, honey.”

“Alright, I’ve learned my lesson.” I cleared my throat. “Don’t tease if I don’t want to be teased back.”

“My clever girl.” he laughed. “Thank you for the pictures, honey. I think you looked positively stunning, and I really love them a lot.”

“You’re welcome.” I smiled, looking down at my feet. “I’ll see you soon, darling.”

“See you soon, Beatrice.” He whispered. “Be good.”

“Same to you.”

I hung up, taking a deep breath in attempts to hold in a squeal.

I fucking loved having a boyfriend.

🍯🍯🍯🍯

Harry’s POV

I slammed my fist into Dave’s covered palm with a loud grunt, biting down harder on my mouth guard as I ducked to avoid his right hook. I didn’t need a bruise on my face during the last show of my world tour, even if everyone would love that. I jumped back up, swinging my arm around for a side hit as Dave grunted in front of me. I took a few steps back, exhaling heavily as I heard chatter around me. I turned my head, my eyes landing on Beatrice and Claire standing by the ring. Claire was busy talking to Gemma, but Beatrice had her eyes glued on me. Just as I lifted my hand to wave, I felt a hard hit land on my ribcage, causing me to fall to the ground.

I heard Bea gasp as Dave laughed loudly.

“You shouldn’t have let your guard down, mate.” He tapped my hip with his glove. “Number one rule.”

“You prick, I was admiring my girl.” I groaned, falling onto my back. “It’s not my fault she’s so bloody gorgeous.”

“Oh my god, you’re ridiculous.” Bea’s laughter caught my attention, my head lolling to the side to see her standing at the side of the ring with one hand pressed over her lips.

“You think this is funny, huh?” I asked her, my words muffled around my guard. I turned my head to the opposite side, spitting it out before I looked back at her. “You wanna get in here and show me what you’ve got?”

“No thank you.” She laughed. “I’d rather stay down here and watch.”

“I see.” I looked up at the ceiling, trying to catch my breath before I sat up straight. I started removing my gloves, pulling at the velcro around my wrists with my teeth. “Come in here and give me a kiss at least?”

“If you insist.” Beatrice mumbled, pressing her hands onto the floor of the ring before she hoisted herself up with a small grunt. “This is too much physical exercise for me, Styles. I’ve already done one workout with you.”

“I’m just getting you prepared.” I smiled up at her as she stood over me. “I want you nice and prepped for our big workout tonight.”

“You two are disgusting.” Gemma groaned, her face twisting up. “I don’t want to hear this.”

“Bugger off then!” I laughed, tossing my hand about. “I ain’t gonna stop now, so here’s your warning.”

Beatrice dropped to her knees beside me, holding back laughter as she grabbed my arm.

“I knew you boxed, but seeing it in person is extremely erotic.” She mumbled, pulling the velcro away from the glove before she pulled it from my hand. “You’ve already seduced me, you don’t have to keep trying.”

“That goes both ways.” I let out a breathy chuckle, shaking my head at her. “What on earth possessed you to take those pictures in the changing room?”

“You.” She glanced up at me as she started to undo my wrap. “I was sitting there, looking at myself in that bodysuit...and you just popped into my head. I wasn’t gonna do it first, though. I couldn’t get a good picture by myself, so Tara helped out a little.”

“Remind me to buy her a car or something as a thank you.” I teased, bumping my shoulder into her arm. “You do know that you’re beautiful, right? Like...not to be a proper dick, but you’re one of the fittest girls I’ve ever seen in my whole life, and that’s coming from my heart and not my trousers.”

“Harry.” She laughed, shaking her head as she moved to the other wrist, her eyes avoiding mine at all costs. “You don’t have to sing such high praises-”

“Apparently I do, because you don’t seem to get it.” I whispered, sliding my free hand to her side for a quick squeeze. “You. are. Beautiful.”

I watched her cheeks turn red, her hips shifting about as she pulled the other glove off.

“I won’t stop saying it until you feel it.” I leaned closer, pressing my lips to her collarbone as she started working on the wrap. “I’ll say it a million times a day.”

“It’s not that I don’t believe you see me that way, Harry.” She mumbled. “It’s just that I can’t believe it or see it myself, you know?”

I stopped, looking at her as she continued to work on my hand.

When my wrap was fully removed, I lifted both of my palms to her face as I sat up on my knees in front of her. I brushed my thumbs over her cheeks, my brows pulling together as she swallowed harshly. I could see a light glaze over her eyes, almost as if she were going to cry.

“Who made you feel like you’re not beautiful?” I asked her, watching her eyes cast down towards her knees. “Who hurt you?”

“No one.” She mumbled. “It’s not like I can sit and point fingers at every major company or magazine that put me down because of my weight or my body. I can’t individually list every person that’s ever called me names. I can’t sit and add it all up, because that makes it worse. So I just...let it go. You should too.”

I watched her look up at me with an unsure smile, and it nearly broke my heart.

“You are perfect the way that you are.” I moved my forehead closer to hers. “Fuck them all, Beatrice. From the magazines, to the fashion industry, to the people around you that make you feel less than perfect for feeling comfortable in your own skin. I saw how much fun you were having when you took those photos, and I knew that you were feeling good about yourself...so why let those people drag you back down?”

“I don’t know.” She shrugged. “I guess that’s just how the female brain works. We take one step forward in progress and then we leap five steps back when we get a glimpse of peace.”

“Well, we’re not taking steps back anymore.” I pressed a kiss to her forehead, closing my eyes as I inhaled the scent of her shampoo. “I know it’s hard to love yourself, especially when the whole world is telling you not to, but we have each other now. We’re not alone in this.”

I watched her eyes narrow, her head tilting to the side as she stared at me.

“What?” I asked.

“Who hurt you?” She asked. “Harry, please tell me that you don’t...if anyone in this relationship is perfect, it’s-”

I pressed my lips to hers, sliding my palms to the side of her neck as she let out a surprised squeak. Seconds later, she melted into my kiss, her fingers gripping my shirt tightly as I brushed my tongue over her bottom lip. It took us seconds to find our way to the floor, her legs spreading just enough for me to slot my hips between them. I felt my hand slip down, cupping her breast over the thin, satin tank top that she put on. The soft pink color looked beautiful on her, and I was envious of the blouse as it clung to her body in such a flattering manner.

“Don’t ever do that.” I pulled back, looking into her eyes as she tried to catch her breath. “I know that the world has me on some pedestal, but I’m just Harry. I’m your boyfriend, and I’m going to make mistakes just the same as you. I’m not any better than you, Beatrice, and I never want you to feel that way. We’re equals, and I will never let you put yourself down just to build me up.”

“Kiss me.” She gripped my shoulders, pulling me into her lips again.

I felt the stirring in the lower pit of my stomach, a soft burn accompanied by the blood flowing straight to my cock. I groaned, sliding my tongue past her lips just so I could hear those beautiful noises she made in the heat of the moment. It was almost as if she couldn’t contain her feelings in her body, so they had to escape in soft hums. I felt her fingers gripping at my arms, desperate to pull me closer to her body as she shifted her hips against the mat.

I pulled away, pressing my forehead to hers as my chest heaved.

Kissing her made me more breathless than my workout.

“You’re intoxicating.” I let out a breathless chuckle, sliding my palm from her breast to her neck. I brushed my thumb over her jaw, closing my eyes. “And you smell fucking amazing, what is that?”

“I spoiled myself with a new perfume today.” She chuckled, sliding her fingers over my forearm before wrapping them around my wrist. “It’s by Chloe.”

“It smells delightful.” I ducked my head down, brushing my nose over her skin. “Like roses.”

“I think it’s called Roses De Chloe, if I’m not mistaken.” She let out a shuddery breath when I kissed over the skin of her neck. “You’re dangerous, Harry Styles.”

“You have no idea.” I chuckled, lifting my head up. “C’mon, I need to shower before dinner.”

“And I need to be present?” She lifted her brows up as I settled on my knees.

“I would prefer that you’re present.” I chuckled, reaching for my water bottle. “I want to hear about your day.”

“I suppose that’s fair.” She sighed, raising her upper half with her palms behind her on the mat.

“And maybe, I can sneak in a couple more kisses before tonight.” I watched her drop her head back, laughing until a little snort slipped out. “Just when I think you can’t get any cuter, you do something like that.”

“Oh, yes, the snort is so cute.” She rolled her head forward, sending me a blank stare. “Let’s go, casanova, you do need a shower.”

“Rude.”

🐟🐟🐟🐟

Bea’s POV

“I almost got a haircut today.” I scrolled on my phone, curling my feet under my legs as Harry continued to shower. “I mean, that’s not that interesting seeing as I didn’t, but I thought about it.”

“I think you would look cute with short hair.” Harry called over the spray of the shower. “I just don’t know what I’d do if I didn’t have something to pull into a ponytail when you’re-”

“Don’t say it.” I glanced over my phone, watching him smile at me through the steamed glass of the shower.

“C’mon, you know you’d miss that feeling.” He chuckled, sliding his abnormally large hands over his head as he tilted it back towards the spray of the shower.

“I’ve only given you one blowjob, sir.” I tilted my chin up. “I don’t know that I would miss it.”

“Giving me blowjobs or having me pull your hair?” He asked. “We can test both of those theories out right now if you want.”

“Maybe later, darling.” I rolled my eyes, glancing back at my phone. “Are you excited for tonight?”

“I am.” He said. “I’m so thrilled to get this tour over with, honestly. I love every single moment of it, don’t get me wrong, but I need some time off.”

“You’ve been a busy boy.” I nodded. “You never really took a serious break between the band and your solo stuff, squid.”

“I didn’t want to.” He said casually. “I need to be working, Beatrice. I literally don’t think I could ever stop.”

“I know what you mean.” I chuckled, shaking my head. “I mean, I’m not necessarily pulling the hours that you are, but I am a workaholic like you.”

“That’s not good.” He turned the shower off, talking through a soft chuckle as he pulled the door open. “If we’re both workaholics, who’s going to take time off to visit the other.”

“You.” I pointed at him with my phone, offering him a smile. “You’re the one on break, aren’t ya?”

“Touche.” He stepped out of the shower, reaching for the towel on the hook next to the sink with furrowed brows. “Why are you on the floor?”

“It’s comfier than sitting on the sink.” I shrugged, looking up at him. “You smell delectable.”

“Thanks.” He leaned down, stealing a kiss. “Want a taste?”

I rolled my lips in, looking into his eyes as he toweled his hair off.

“Yeah, actually.” I mumbled, dropping my phone to the floor on top of my shoes. “I might want a taste.”

Harry’s eyes snapped to mine as I rolled onto my knees, pressing my palms to his damp thighs.

“Fuck.” He whispered. “I didn’t actually think… you don’t have to.”

“I want to.” I dug my nails into his thighs, smirking when he hissed out. “Lean against the sink for me? I don’t want you to fall.”

“Okay.” He shuffled back a few steps, pressing his bum to the edge of the sink as I moved closer to him.

Harry’s eyes were glued to me as I kissed over the small tattoos on his legs.

They were mostly silly little words, but I found them adorable.

I let my right hand move from the tiger tattoo on his thigh to the base of his cock, my fingertips trailing over a vein in his shaft. I watched his cock twitch, a small drop of precum bubbling from the red tip. I was curious to know more about Harry’s body, and the things that I could do to it. He was only the second guy that I had seen naked like this, but I was proud to say that he was my favorite. I liked his cock, and I loved how it reacted to the smallest of touches from me.

“You have a very pretty cock.” I mumbled, glancing up at him as he gripped the edge of the sink with white knuckles. “It seems to like attention, huh?”

“Just yours.” He cleared his throat, shifting his hips around. “Please, angel.”

“Be patient.” I whispered, sliding my forefinger over his tip. “I’m admiring it.”

It was slowly growing harder with each second that I stared at it, my fingertips still lightly tracing over the shaft. Harry was breathing heavily above me, his chest heaving and his grip tight on the porcelain behind him. I loved watching his thighs and his tummy tense when I leaned closer, my breath brushing over the sensitive area ever so slightly. I had him wrapped already, and I couldn’t wait to test just how much willpower he had.

Part of me wanted him to tangle his fingers in my hair before pulling my mouth onto his cock. I wanted him to groan and growl out filthy words while I gasped for air. I wanted to be everything he wanted me to be while I was on my knees in front of him. I knew that he had a bit of a dominant streak in him, just like I had a submissive one in me, but we weren’t quite there yet.

“What are you waiting for?” I glanced up at him. “I thought we were testing out if I’d miss having your hands in my hair while I sucked you off?”

“You are trouble.” He lifted a hand from the sink, cupping my chin gently. “I see it in your eyes, you know? I know what you want me to do, but I won’t do it unless you beg.”

“I have no clue what you’re talking about.” I said sweetly.

“Don’t play coy, angel.” He brushed his thumb over my lower lip as he mumbled, causing me to smirk up at him. “You want me to fuck your mouth, don’t you?”

“Sounds pleasant, I suppose.” I shrugged my shoulders

Harry’s lips curved into a smirk that reminded me of the cheshire cat.

“You’re a bit of a brat, aren’t you?” He tilted my chin up higher, watching my face as I tried to contain my smile. “Sweet Beatrice, you are treading on very thin ice.”

“Am I?” I asked softly. “I feel like I’m being such a good girl.”

“You know that you’re not.”

I moan when I felt his thumb slip past my lips, brushing over my tongue before he pulled it right back out. I leaned forward, pulling it back into my mouth as Harry’s eyes turned from light to dark. I could see the intense look burning behind the soft Jade color of his irises.

“You’re teasing me again.” He let out a shuddery sigh, closing his eyes as he tilted his head back. “You’re going to be in so much trouble when I get you home.”

I pulled back from his thumb with a pop, smiling up at him as his hand gripped the base of his cock. I watched him stroke over the shaft twice, holding back soft whimpers as he did.

“Open your mouth.” He said it sternly, but I could see the hint of softness left in him.

He wanted to make sure that I was okay.

I stuck my tongue out, settling my palms on my thighs as I waited for him to finally give me what I wanted. He rested the head of his cock on my tongue, the salty taste of his precum mixed with a hint of his body wash. I closed my mouth around the head, lapping my tongue over the slit of his cock as he hissed. Seconds later, his right hand was digging into the roots of my hair.

“Your fucking mouth, angel.” He dropped his head back, letting out a high pitched whine. “Feels so good wrapped around me, Beatrice.”

I hummed softly, moving as far as I could go on his shaft.

He was thick, but not overly so, and the length of his cock was perfect for my mouth.

I could hardly make it to the base of his cock, but I was happy with making it halfway at least. I pulled back, suckling harshly when I made it to the tip. Harry’s hips jutted forward in response, causing his cock to slip right back into my mouth. I moaned around him, closing my eyes as I dug my nails into his thighs. I moved my head slowly, trying to figure out the perfect pace.

I hadn’t had much practice, but this was my third blowjob, so I liked to think I had the basics down. Harry seemed to think so too, his fingers pulling my roots tighter as he moved his hips gently in and out of my mouth. He was nowhere near my throat, and I was thankful for that. I wasn’t quite ready to test out that area of pleasure when it came to blowjobs. I didn’t know how I would handle having someone literally pushing into my throat just yet.

“I’m gonna cum.” He whimpered. “Open your eyes, Beatrice.”

I did as I was told, looking up at him.

“Use your hands and…” He inhaled sharply when I suckled on the head of his cock again before moving my lips down. “Please just play with my-”

I knew what he was trying to ask, my fingers already finding their way to his balls.

I brushed my thumb over the skin at first, testing out the waters before I started to really massage them between my fingers. Harry’s hips stuttered forward as he cursed loudly, dropping his head forward as I stared up at him. The second his glazed over eyes locked with mine, it was all over. He lowered his left hand to my head, sliding his fingers through the roots as he held himself in my mouth, his cum coating the center of my tongue as he cried out.

When he was done, he pulled himself out, and I swallowed with a scrunched up nose.

“You didn’t have to swallow.” He chuckled, reaching down to brush his thumb under my lips. “I would have moved for you.”

“It’s okay.” I shrugged. “I didn’t mind it.”

“Your face said otherwise.” He laughed a little harder. “Thank you, honey, that was really nice.”

“I’m glad you enjoyed it.” I rolled my eyes, holding my hands up towards him. “Help me up, my knees are sore.”

“Sorry.” he grabbed my hands, pulling me up to my feet. “Give me a kiss.”

“You want to kiss me?” I asked him, pulling my head back as he leaned forward. “Don’t you want me to like, brush my teeth first?”

“No.” His brows furrowed. “I want your lips.”

“But...I thought guys didn’t like…” I paused, tilting my head. “Nevermind.”

“No, finish that sentence.” he said. “You thought guys didn’t like what?”

“Kissing someone after they’ve...you know?” I felt my cheeks heat up as Harry stared back at me.

“Is that what the guy before me said? The guy that you tried this out on a while ago?” He asked softly, his thumb brushing over the back of my hand in soft circles.

“Yeah.” I mumbled. “He also kind of didn’t give me a choice on the whole spit or swallow thing.”

“He sounds like a fucking prick.” Harry’s jaw tensed as he inhaled sharply, shaking his head with a stern expression. “Don’t ever let a man treat you like that again, do you hear me? I don’t ever want you to do something because you think I’ll like it. We both have to enjoy it if this is going to work.”

“I wanted that with you.” I brushed my palms over his pecs, sliding them up to his neck. “I just...I didn’t know.”

“Well, you do now.” He leaned forward, brushing his nose against mine. “I’m a lucky bastard for being able to have your mouth like that, the least I can do is kiss you after and call you a good girl.”

“Don’t call me a good girl.” I closed my eyes, pressing my thighs together.

“S’that turn you on?” He laughed, sliding his hands to my lower back. “But you were so good for me, angel. After you were a total brat, of course.”

“That’s my favorite part.” I opened my eyes, offering him a smile. “I like being a brat.”

Harry let out a soft sigh, his lips pressed together as he tried not to smile.

“We’re going to have so much fun.” He whispered, leaning closer to my lips with his own. “I’m going to wreck you.”

“Don’t threaten me with a good time.” I snorted out a laugh, but Harry cut it off with a kiss. “You really are the type to kiss someone in the middle of-”

His lips pressed into mine again, and I melted.

🍆🍆🍆🍆

Harry’s POV

Beatrice and Claire were a force to be reckoned with.

Three tequila shots and a watermelon margarita later, and they were both ready to party. I watched Bea toss the tequila shots back like water, reaching for the lime as her nose scrunched up ever so slightly. I tried to hide the proud smile I was wearing, but it was hard to do that when my girlfriend was crushing my favorite liquor like it was water. Gemma wasn’t quiet about catching my smile either, her elbow digging into my side.

“You’re in love.” She sang out. “Look at her, like another version of you.”

“In my younger days.” I snorted, crossing my arms over my chest. “I can’t party like that anymore.”

“Yes you can.” Gemma rolled her eyes. “You’re dramatic.”

“Eh, just a little.” I smiled over at her. “Have you two been getting along?”

“We’ve talked some, yeah.” Gemma nodded, digging her spoon into a mountain of mashed potatoes. “She reminds me a lot of you in certain ways, but there’s something about her that I can’t put my finger on.”

“Something that you don’t like or?” I waited for her response as she let out a soft noise of uncertainty. “What?”

“I just think that she’s one of those people that puts her own needs aside to please everyone else, you know?” Gemma sighed. “It's not a bad thing, but it can be harmful.”

“I’ve noticed that too.” I scratched at my jaw. “But it doesn’t make me want her any less.”

“Oh, I know.” Gemma rolled her eyes. “When you fixate on someone, you’re like a fucking dog with their new favorite toy.”

“Yeah, yeah.” I bumped her shoulder with my own. “I get it, you think I’ll forget about my favorite sister.”

“You did when you were with Hannah...and Madison...and Samantha-”

“Got it.” I said sharply, glaring at her. “Gemma, I know that I’ve been a proper dick about relationships in the past, but I just...I want someone to love. Is that such a bad thing?”

“It is when you put everyone else aside and focus on someone toxic.” She was such a smart ass sometimes, and I hated it. “But I don’t think Bea is toxic. I just think she’s a little innocent.”

I snorted, but I quickly wiped my hand over my mouth.

“You’re disgusting.” Gemma narrowed her eyes at me. “I meant in worldly matters, not in the bedroom.”

“She’s pretty innocent in the bedroom too.” Claire’s voice made me jump, my hand pressing to my chest as Gemma turned her head back. “She’s still a virgin...right, Harry?”

“Oh my god.” I felt my face heat up as Claire plopped into the seat beside Gemma. “Can I see your spoon, Gem? I would like to scoop my eyes out now.”

“So many things that I didn’t need to know.” Gemma mumbled, glancing at Claire. “You’re insane, I like that.”

“Good.” Claire smiled at Gemma, reaching over to steal a green bean off of her plate. “I think you’re pretty fucking awesome too.”

Gemma laughed, shaking her head at Claire as she reached for a water bottle.

“In all honesty, she is pretty innocent, but she’s also pretty smart.” Claire said. “Even though she’s most definitely losing it with Sarah over there.”

I turned my head around, watching Sarah and Beatrice lean into each other as they both laughed. I raised my brows, looking back at Claire who just shrugged her shoulders.

“They both had an emo phase, and to them, that’s hysterical.” Claire sipped at her water. “I didn’t know Mitch’s birthday was yesterday, by the way.”

“Oh, yeah.” I nodded. “We did a pre-party for him, it was fun.”

“I feel bad for stealing his birthday thunder.” Claire pouted her bottom lip out. “Had I known, I wouldn’t have soaked up being in the spotlight light last night.”

“I’m sure Mitch enjoyed it.” Gemma said. “He’s not one for being the center of attention.”

“Very odd, isn’t it.” Claire hummed. “For both of us to be cancers, but to be so different.”

“Natal chart.” Gemma pointed her spoon towards Claire. “It makes a world of difference.”

“On that note, I’m leaving.” I stood up from my chair, pressing a quick kiss to the top of Gemma’s head before I nodded at Claire. “I’m keeping my eyes on you two tonight, you seem dangerous.”

“Wait until she starts trying to take her clothes off.” Claire moved her eyebrows, biting her tongue between her teeth.

“Oh fuck me.” I groaned, dropping my head back before I walked around the long table, heading in the direction of Sarah and Bea.

“You two look like you’re having a good laugh.” I looked between them with raised brows.

“Sarah showed me a picture of her hair in highschool.” Bea pressed her palm over her mouth, her eyes watering as Sarah laughed harder next to her.

“Oh my goodness.” I chuckled, sitting down next to them. “I haven’t seen that, let me see.”

“No, for Bea’s eyes only.” Sarah wheezed, snatching her phone against her chest. “You wouldn’t get it.”

“You’re stealing my friends.” I glanced back at Beatrice as she silently laughed, hunching over as I let out a breathy laugh through my nose. “Is this the tequila, or do I need to get you an inhaler, honey?”

“I’m fine.” She waved her hand about, taking a deep breath before she wiped under her eyes to collect the fallen tears. “I just haven’t laughed like that in a while.”

“I’m glad my hair was amusing.” Sarah giggled, patting Beatrice’s thigh. “I’ve got to go find my boyfriend, I haven’t shown him this picture yet.”

“So everyone gets to see it but me?” I watched Sarah nod as she stood up. “Rude, Sarah Jones.”

“I love you, Harry Styles.” She dropped her hand to my head, ruffling my hair. “But, no.”

Beatrice let out another round of giggles at that, and I turned my eyes towards her.

“I’ll get you for this later.” I reached over, tickling her side before she squeaked out. “You seriously can’t get any cuter.”

“Stop.” She groaned, swatting my hand away as she pouted. “I’m ticklish.”

“Good.” I chuckled. “I’ve been away far too long, where is my kiss?”

“Needy man.” She leaned forward, pressing her lips to mine. “I’m excited for the show to start, I can’t wait to see you dancing around like a fool on stage. What was it that you said earlier? You were going to have me dripping down my legs?”

I inhaled sharply as she tilted her head, kissing the soft spot below my ear.

“Claire warned me that tequila made you horny.” I brushed my palm up her thigh. “Easy there, honey.”

“Oops.” She pulled back, her cheeks practically glowing red. “I forgot about the other people in the room.”

“S’alright.” I lifted my hand, brushing my thumb over her chin. “Just don’t want to get worked up before I have to sit in the hair and makeup chair.”

“Oh, makeup!” She exclaimed. “I still have to get ready.”

“You can get ready with me.” I said. “We’ll sit side by side.”

“How cute.” She pouted again, tilting her head to the side like she’d just seen a cute puppy dog walking down the street. “You’re sweet.”

“And you’re tipsy.” I laughed. “You haven’t eaten yet, have you?”

She shook her head. “I was waiting for you.”

“C’mon, let’s grab a plate or two and figure out what we want.” I reached for her hand, standing up before she followed suit. “One more kiss?”

“Okay.” She pressed up on her toes, kissing my cheek. “Oh, I wonder if you have fries around here somewhere. You know the old saying, fries before guys.”

“Excuse me.” I followed behind her as she giggled, shaking my head. “No, it’s guys before fries here.”

I was going to have my hands full with this one.

🍟 🍟 🍟🍟

Bea’s POV

When I walked out of the bathroom, pulling my faux leather jacket on, my jaw nearly hit the ground. I stopped in my tracks, looking at Harry with parted lips and wide eyes as he turned around and held his arms out for Lambert. I watched him shrug his jacket on, shimmying his shoulders until it rested comfortably on his frame. Harry looked up at me, shooting me a grin that made me knees feel wobbly. I cleared my throat, adjusting my own jacket before I walked closer to him with sweaty palms and a frog in my throat.

“You look gorgeous.” He leaned forward, holding my elbow with his massive hand before he pressed a kiss to my temple. “Have you put on the lacy thing for me?”

“Yeah, I have.” I sucked in a breath as he lifted the lapel of my jacket, his eyes burning when they landed on the bodysuit. “Better in person?”

“Much.” He mumbled, glancing up at me with a lopsided grin, his dimple just barely visible. “If there weren’t other people in this room, I’d kiss the breath right out of your lungs.”

I pressed my lips together, holding back a groan as his voice dropped.

“Sadly, there are plenty of people!” Lambert interrupted. “And I refuse to see this shirt ruined by that gorgeous red lipstick you’ve got on, Beatrice. What is that?”

“Um, Revlon.” I said softly. “I think the shade is Black Cherry or something like that.”

“Revlon.” Lambert muttered. “You wear it well, darling.”

“Thank you.” I felt my cheeks heat up as Harry smiled at me, almost as if he was proud of my ability to impress his friends.

“Now, you two are off to watch Kacey’s set, but please be careful with the jacket.” Lambert brushed his hands over Harry’s arms. “We don’t want too many sequins gone before your set.”

“I’ll try to keep the dancing to a minimum.” Harry laughed, shaking his head at Lambert. “Thanks for being such a wonderful addition to the team, mate. I don’t know what the fuck I would done without you.”

“Probably would have worn those dreadful black skinny jeans on stage for the entire tour.” I tried to hold back my laugh, slapping my palm over my hand at Lambert's words. “And those chelsea boots, the tan ones? I’m getting nauseous thinking about it.”

“Oi, I was fit!” Harry exclaimed. “I pulled it off well, didn’t I Bea?”

“There was a reason Niall was my favorite.” I shrugged.

“Excuse me?” He blinked at me, his face blank. “Niall looked like a fucking frat boy-”

“You had a phase.” I pointed out. “You all went through a frat boy phase with your snapbacks and your cut off shirts.”

“But I was the only one who pulled it off well.” He held his finger up, waving it about. “Niall was nowhere near as attractive as I in the snapback.”

“You fucker!”

Harry and I snapped our heads around at the new voice in the room.

The second I lay my eyes on the dirty blonde Irishman, I felt like my heart was going to fall out of my ass. Niall stood there in the doorway with his hands held up, a look of mock offense on his face. I turned to Harry, my jaw practically on the floor as he stared at his old mate.

“Niall!” Harry said. “You made it, lucky charms!”

“I heard what you said, Styles.” Horan pointed his finger, putting on a fake angry expression before his eyes darted towards me. “Is she alright?”

Harry looked back at me, his brows raised as I looked between him and Niall, my finger weakly pointing at my childhood crush.

“That’s Niall Horan.” I said softly as Harry walked up to me. “That’s Niall Horan.”

“Okay, let’s breathe.” Harry chuckled, brushing his hands over my biceps, holding me in place as I tried to peer around him. “I’m offended that you weren’t this shell shocked when we met.”

“You aren’t Niall Horan.” I said, looking up at him. “That’s….I had such a huge crush on him.”

Harry ducked his head down, his breath tickling my ear.

“Do I need to take you into the bathroom and remind you who you’re here for?”

I felt my eyes flutter shut, a soft whine catching in my throat as Harry nipped at my earlobe before pressing a quick kiss to my pulse point. I almost felt dizzy when he lifted his head up with that dazzling smirk on his lips. I cleared my throat, shifting on my feet.

“Answer me.” He said. “Do you need that?”

I opened my mouth, but no words came out.

“Oh, angel, you look flustered.” He cooed, brushing his knuckles over my cheek.

“I’m good.” I cleared my throat, willing my voice to go back to normal. “I was just a little shocked, that’s all.”

“Gimme a kiss.” He puckered his lips out dramatically, and I let out a breathy laugh. “There she is.”

I pressed up on my toes, kissing his cheek.

“Sorry.” I mumbled, avoiding his gaze. “I just...he just popped up out of nowhere. I need a warning for these kind of things.”

“Next time I’ll sing a good ol’ pub song while I’m walking down the hall so you know I’m coming for you, love.” Niall laughed at himself, and I couldn’t help but laugh along as Harry turned around with an unamused expression. “You gonna introduce us, Styles?”

“This is my girlfriend, Bea.” Harry slipped his hand over my back. “Beatrice, this is Niall.”

“Hi.” I held my hand out, but Niall swatted it away before opening his arms.

“I like hugs.”

“She’s not hugging you.” Harry held me back, scowling at Niall.

I turned my head back to look at Harry, my lips pressed together and my brows raised as if to say ‘oh, really?’ to his comment. I could hug whoever I wanted, and right now, I wanted to make Harry jealous by hugging Niall fucking Horan.

“I’m hugging him.” I said, moving closer to Niall. “Don’t be sour.”

“He is a bit of a sour patch kid, isn’t he?” Niall laughed as I wrapped my arms around his middle, giggling when he tossed his arms around my shoulders. “I can’t believe Harry’s got himself a decent girl.”

“You just met me, you don’t know that I’m decent yet.” I pulled back with a laugh, retreating to my spot next to Harry. “But I’ll take the compliment all the same.”

“Thatta girl.” Niall winked at me before stuffing his hands in his pockets, turning towards Harry with a bright smile. “I’m excited to see your show tonight.”

“It’s gonna be weird, knowing that you’re out in the crowd watching instead of performing with me.” Harry blew out a nervous breath, shaking his head. “And it doesn’t help that you’re not the only one here. Liam is coming tonight, fucking Kendall will be here...I’m pretty sure a few other people will be here tonight too.”

“Well, Kendall is fucking tone deaf, so I don’t think she’ll notice if you fuck up.” Niall cackled, tossing his head back. “And I doubt you’ll fuck up at all, you’re a star mate.”

“So are you, Horan.” Harry reached out, tapping Niall’s shoulder. “I’ve missed you.”

“Yeah, I’ve missed you too.” Niall’s voice was softer, a happy smile still on his face. “Can’t believe it’s already been two years apart.”

“I’m gonna cry.” I whispered, waving my hand in front of my eyes as they started to water. “I’m having flashbacks of the History music video, I don’t need this today.”

“You got yourself a fan.” Niall asked, his brows shooting up towards his hairline. “Is that why she was so wigged out a second ago?”

“Yeah.” I spoke up. “You were my favorite.”

“I was?” Niall asked, his head tilting to the side. “Am I not anymore.”

“I mean…” I turned towards Harry, sliding my arm around his waist before I looked back at Niall with a small giggle. “Look at this one, mate! He’s so dreamy and he’s romantic.”

“I can be romantic.” Niall exclaimed.

Harry snorted, turning his head to spit out a fake cough to save himself.

“What was that for?” Niall said. “I can be romantic!”

“Sure, mate.” Harry reached out, patting Niall’s shoulder again as a knock sounded at his dressing room door. “Oh look, more people.”

I turned my head to the doorway, suddenly intimidated by the three women walking in.

Claire, Kendall, and Hannah (Harry's most recent ex) walked in together.

I automatically felt inferior to them, and not just because I was much shorter.

Even my own best friend fit in better with that group than I did, her perfect brown skin and long legs practically identical to the other two women. Harry clearly had a type for summer goddesses with a knack for modeling, and it made me wonder why he didn’t pick Claire over me. They would have made such a beautiful couple.

“I want you to meet Kenny.” Harry squeezed my side. “She’s a good friend of mine.”

“Sure.” I gave him a tight smile, swallowing my nerves as I felt my palms sweat.

I didn’t know a lot about Kendall or her family, but I never heard anything good.

I also didn’t know how to talk to someone of her status.

“Ken!” Harry said her name so casually, like he was used to calling it out. “I’d like you to meet someone.”

Fuck.

She set her eyes on me, scanning me from head to toe before plastering on a smile and strutting over in her mega high heels. I owned a pair similar to hers, but mine came from Walmart, and hers were probably from Dior. She stopped in front of us, affectionately touching Harry’s bicep with a soft hell before she turned to look down at me.

“Hi.” She said. “I’m Kendall.”

“Beatrice.” I stuck my hand out to her nervously, but she just looked at it. I had a feeling that she wasn’t a hugger like Niall. “Um, you can call me Bea though.”

“Bea.” She nodded as I pulled my hand back. “Where did you two meet?”

“At a bar last night.” Harry laughed softly, squeezing my side as he shot me a wink. It eased my nerves just a little. “Swept her right off of her feet.”

“So that is how we’re telling the story?” I chuckled, turning my attention towards him instead of the nerve wracking situation in front of me. “I suppose you’re not entirely wrong.”

“I never am.” He sighed dramatically, pursing his lips before he leaned in for a quick kiss. “So, Ken, where’s your man tonight?”

Oh, thank god.

“He’s just talking shit with Jeff, I think.” She turned her head, scanning the dressing room before she rolled her eyes. “I honestly don’t want to see his face tonight, he’s being annoying.”

“Oh no.” Harry laughed softly. “What have you done?”

“Me, I did nothing?” She pressed her fingers to her collarbone, scoffing playfully. “I merely said we should vacation in Mykonos with my family-”

“There it is.” Harry interrupted.

“What’s wrong with vacationing with my family?” Kendall asked, tilting her head to the side with a frown. “Everyone loves it!”

“No, they don’t.” Harry shook his head. “I remember your Mum made us-”

He stopped, shifting on his feet as he looked at me.

“Don’t mind me.” I said. “You can keep talking, I can go find Claire or-”

“That would be great-”

“Don’t go-”

Harry and Kendall spoke at the same time, and I rolled my lips into my mouth as they both looked at each other in shock.

“Um, well,” I stuttered, slowly pulling myself from Harry’s arm. “You clearly need a moment, so I’m just gonna go somewhere that isn’t right here.”

I turned, walking towards Claire and Niall like there was a fire under my ass.

“Oh my god.” I whispered, grabbing Claire’s arm. “I feel like I was just met the fucking queen or something! I mean, the way she looked at me, Claire-”

“She’s not very nice.” Claire laughed, sliding her arm around my shoulder. “It’s alright though, I’m a much better model than her and I plan on dragging her ass down the runway one day.”

“Thank you.” I squeaked out, letting out a laugh as Niall chuckled in front of us. “Sorry, I know you’re probably friends with her too, I just-”

“Not friends.” Niall said, shaking his head. “Never have been, never will be.”

“Fair.” I sighed, taking a few deep breaths. “Oh, Claire, it’s Niall!”

“Yeah, we’ve been chatting for a minute over here babe.” She laughed. “He introduced himself.”

“Right.” I laughed nervously. “There’s a lot happening.”

“You need a break?” Niall asked. “Because the three of us can sneak off for a drink, I doubt anyone will notice we’re gone.”

I turned my head, looking at Harry as he laughed with Kendall and Hannah.

It hurt just a tiny bit to see him so chummy with his exes, but who was I to judge.

“Yeah, that sounds nice.” I turned back to Niall with a fake smile. “Let’s go.”

Harry’s POV

“So, what’s the deal with this new girl?” Kendall asked. “She’s...different.”

“I don’t like what you’re insinuating.” I said slowly, my brows pulling together. “Why did you say it like that?”

“She just, doesn’t seem like your type.” She shrugged, brushing it off as if it was no big deal. “I haven’t seen you with someone like her before.”

“Kenny has a point.” Hanna interrupted, looking at me with raised brows. “You don’t typically go for her type.”

“Okay, you’re both being vague and annoying.” I let out a frustrated huff. “What are you getting at?”

“She’s not stepping on the cover of Vogue anytime soon.” Kendall shrugged. “That’s all.”

“Because-” I waited for them to speak, but they both glanced at each other.

“Well, she’s bigger than what you normally go for, and she’s a little plain.” Hannah said. “It’s not really like you to downgrade.”

“Right.” I let out a bitter laugh, lifting my hand to scratch at my jaw as I felt anger boiling up from my chest to my throat. “Fuck you...both of you. I don’t know where you get off insulting someone you don’t even know, but that shit doesn’t matter to everyone. Beatrice could put a paper bag over her head, and it wouldn’t make me want her any less. Do you know why?”

They both stared at me as I waited for an answer.

“Because she has a fucking heart, and a beautiful mind.” I snapped. “You two are a bunch of gossiping trust fund babies with no morals.”

I turned around, stalking towards the door of my dressing room without second thought.

I slammed it behind me before I turned down the hall, walking straight for catering.

When I walked into the room, Beatrice was sitting between Niall and Claire sipping on a watermelon margarita with pink cheeks and a bright smile. I felt my anger dissipate in my chest, her laughter distracting me from the cruel words replaying in my head. I let out a sigh, feeling my shoulders slump before I walked towards the cheerful group.

“Hey.” I said, dropping into the seat next to Bea’s. “I missed you.”

“Did you?” She asked me, squinting playfully with pursed lips. “You seemed like you were having fun.”

“It was dreadful, believe me.” I leaned closer, stealing a kiss from her. “Are you having fun?”

“So much.” She smiled, kissing me once more. “I can’t wait to get out there though. I think Kacey is on in ten minutes.”

“Sounds right.” I let out a breath, pressing my palm to Beatrice’s thigh. “Finish up your drink, honey. I’ll have Larissa make us more before Jeff takes us to the side stage.”

“Okay.” She gave me a bright smile. “Thank you.”

“For what?” I asked, tilting my head to the side curiously.

“For being so sweet.” She mumbled. “I adore you.”

My heart practically screamed in my chest, the hairs raising up on the back of my neck as I felt my lips pull into a huge smile. I let out a giggle, ducking my head down as my cheeks warmed.

Beatrice brushed her fingers over the back of my neck as I moved closer to her, wrapping my arms around her the best that I could from my chair.

“I adore you, too.”

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