#i could go on about little women for a million more years but wrapping this up here

[deansapplepie]

Period .

Summary: The one time you were glad you had your period, and the one time you weren’t.

Warnings: young Daryl (just in the first part), mentions of pregnancy, period, blood, sexual themes, mentions of creampie, mentions of impregnating, little angsty in the end. Minors do not Interact, 18+.

A/N: it was supposed to be a small drabble, but it turned out longer than I imagined. 🤭 Period is something important in the story, but the main focus is really about pregnancy.

Also, there’s no smut just little thoughts of Daryl.

The Quarry, Atlanta

You were fucked you knew you were, but so was Daryl and that was the problem. You had been dating for only a few months before the outbreak and even though your relationship was new, you knew his temper pretty well being neighbors for many years.

Your period was late, it already was when the world ended, but just a few days, so you didn’t worry about it. Now, it had been almost a month and you were worried as fuck. You tried to fake normalcy, pretend there wasn’t anything wrong. But your constant lip biting and unquiet legs denounced to the hunter how nervous you were. “Spill it.” He said.

“What?” He took you by surprise, you were so into in your mind that you didn’t even know he had been observing for the last half hour.

“There’s somethin’ worrying ya. Just say it.” He didn’t take his eyes from you as he waited for you ti say something.

“My period. It’s late. I’m worried.” You threw averting his eyes.

In his mind a million of thoughts were running, but mainly 1. why did you have to feel so amazing wrapped around him that sometimes he couldn’t just control himself and just finish inside of you? 2. why did he still used no condoms? 3. he couldn’t be a father, he didn’t have this ability.

“Just that?” He asked nonchalantly pretending it didn’t affect him. “Want me to go to town and pick a pregnancy test?”

You looked at him amused. How could he be so calm when you were panicking? Part of you were glad he wasn’t fuming in rage like you imagined he would be, but the other part was frustrated with him acting like it was nothing. “Seriously?” You gave him an incredulous look. “Don’t need to. Let’s wait a little more.” You got up and left to the lake, frustrated, fuming and just needing to calm yourself down.

Days passed and nothing happened. Until the day Daryl woke up tired of not knowing if he would have to raise a child in this fucked up world or not. When you woke up he was already brewing something on the fire, Merle with him. “I’m going to town. Want something?” He asked.

“What are you going to do in town?” You didn’t understand, you had everything. Food and hygiene supplies, what else could you need?

“I’m gonna get the thing. We already waited too much.” He seemed nervous, finally one small demonstration of feelings.

“Are ya two gonna talk in codes now?” Merle complained feeling left out.

You ignored him and replied Daryl. “Ok. Just let me go the bathroom, gonna think if we need anything else.” You left in the direction of the RV, not everyone used it, but most of you. Especially the women and the kids, Daryl and Merle preferred to go into the woods as to not get the dirty looks everyone gave them, but you were different, you were polite and would smile sometimes. Also, you got along well with Dale and the women in the camp.

You distributed ‘good mornings’ along the way and when you got to the RV you encountered Dale, Ami and Andrea having breakfast. You greeted them and excused yourself to the bathroom, and there it was… your answer. No test needed. A pool of blood on your panties. You felt wet earlier, but the last weeks you felt it many times and it was always nothing, so you didn’t mind. You were relieved. The world was pure chaos and you couldn’t imagine raising a child in it. Yet, there was an uneasy feeling inside of you.

You went back to your tent and the small fire the brothers had done. “You don’t need to go.” It was as the only thing you said.

“Ugh?” He grunted confused.

“I’m on my period.” You said, and fuck if Merle was listening.

“Were ya talking in codes because ya thought you were pregnant?” Merle almost yelled. “And you were hiding it from me? The uncle?”

“Shut up Merle, nobody needs to know, and stop complaining about an inexistent baby.” You answered mood swinging immediately. There it was, you had seen the signals, you just didn’t want to read them.

Daryl stayed silent while you went inside the tent to take clean panties, pads or tampons to change. When you came out Daryl was the same way he was before, millions of thoughts inside his head.

“Are you going to say something or are you going to pretend there wasn’t anything going on just like when I told you my worries?” You snapped, the last days you had thought over and over again about his non reaction the day you told him, and that’s not that you wanted him to have fought or screamed at you, you didn’t, but you wanted him to share his worries with you and to be able to share yours with him.

“What do ya want me to say?” He asked, dryly. “Thank God? ‘Cause I don’t believe in one. Or do you want me to say I feel really sorry ‘cause we’re not putting a child in this fucked up world?” He had snapped. You were angry at him, but at least it was a reaction of some sort.

“You’re an asshole.” You threw at him and left, he thought about retorting you with a sassy answer, but he bit his tongue.

“Ya messed bad, lil bro… ya know nothing about women. How was ya able to catch a girl like her?” Merle couldn’t contain his mouth and spoke.

“Shut up, Merle! Mind your own business!” He replied, taking his things and living grumpily.

Later that day he returned with chocolate and painkillers, which he left on your side of the sleeping bed without saying anything.

Alexandria, Virginia

You were out in the woods, close to Alexandria. You had been hunting with Daryl, your husband. Yes, your husband. So many things have changed along the years, that some times you couldn’t believe how things were different. But one thing hadn’t change, you were still reckless about sex, not that you had options to prevent a pregnancy in the end of the world.

And that was the reason you were distracted while you hunted, also the reason you were not being silent like he taught you to be and were cracking every and all stick on the way. “Wha’s the problem, sweetheart?” He stopped and turned to you.

Distracted, you continued to walk and bumped into him. “Sorry.” You looked up at him and saw concern in his eyes.

“What’s troubling ya?” He asked his hands resting on your shoulders. “And don’t try to lie, I know ya.”

You sighed. “I’m late.” You’ve been late many times during the time you and Daryl have been together, but most of the times your worries would be taken away as soon as they started to build. But that time at the quarry and now, it had been a long time.

Now he already knew what you meant, and it didn’t worry him this much anymore. To be honest, he even thought about impregnating you during the last years. It all started when his Lil Ass Kicker was born, and then how he saw you taking care of her and interacting with kids. So… he considered having kids with you many times.

“Just that?” He threw the same question back at that day in the quarry. Anger started bubbling in you and then he just stroke you with his words. “Ya shouldn’t worry. If it happens, we’ll take responsibility and do our best. It’s our baby we’re talking about.”

“Daryl… aren’t you mad? Or worried?” You looked at him disarmed now that you realized he wasn’t going to be a dick.

“If ya’re expecting, I helped making this baby and I dun think it would be so terrible the idea of having a baby made of us.” Yeah, you had all changed a lot. You didn’t know one day you could desire him even more, but just the thought of him thinking it wouldn’t be bad to have babies with you… made you want to jump on him.

“Should we grab a pregnancy test with Denise or something?” You suggested grabbing one of his hands.

“Let’s wait a little more and I take them.” He started to walk and intertwined your fingers. “Now, let’s hunt dinner.”

Daryl had finally gone on a run to find some pregnancy tests, Denise unfortunately had none. When he arrived he hoped to see you in the kitchen with Carol, but his friend was alone. She saw his confused face and she knew he was looking for you. “She’s at the bedroom. She arrived and a little while after… she didn’t look well. I think you should see her.” Carol advised him. She knew there was something upsetting you and she was almost sure of what it was, but you had said nothing to her, so she decided it was better to not push.

“Thanks, ‘m gonna check on her.” He said before he left to your shared bedroom.

After he descended the stairs to your room in the basement, he found you on bed laying on your side. He kicked his shoes off before joining you in bed. “Hey babe”

“Hey” you replied and didn’t turn to look at him.

He laid on his side, spooning you and sneaking his arm around you. He rested his hand on your lower stomach, an habit he had developed recently. He’d do it when you got your period and felt cramps, but in the last days he had done it for another reason. “Can you take your hand from there?” You asked.

“Why? Don’t ya wanna me to touch ya?” He wanted to understand what was troubling your mind.

“There’s nothing there. Just my uterus. My stupid bleeding uterus.” Here it was. He wouldn’t deny he was a little upset, he had some hope on you being pregnant. He was even excited.

“Ok. Look at me.” He turned you so you’d be facing him. You had teary eyes and a small pout on your lips. “You wanted this baby, didn’t ya?”

“Is it this obvious?” Yes, it was. It was visible on your face.

“I wanted it too.” He confessed, his fingers running on your hair.

“I’ve been wanting for a long time already… since Jude was born and I saw her in your arms. When I have Jude in my arms or little Hershel, I wish I had a baby.” While you spoke, your eyes welled with tears and they started falling.

He gently wiped your tears, he could understand your feelings in his own way, because he felt them too. “Me too. When I see you with the kids, I wish we had one.” ‘And to put a baby inside of you’, completed in his mind. “Do ya want me to give you a baby?”

Your eyes sparkled at his words, and it wasn’t just because of the tears threatening to fall again. “Would you?” You looked in his eyes and he felt like you could see his soul. But, yes… you could. You could always see him, even when he couldn’t.

“As many as ya want.” He said and the tears you were holding just bursted from your eyes. “Stop crying, I didn’t say it so you’d cry. If you continue to cry, I’m not giving ya babies…”

“Don’t you dare Daryl Dixon! I’m crying because I’m happy, ok?” You cupped his face with your hands, making a pout appear on his face.

“Ok.” He spoke the best he could with your hands cupping his face and restraining his lips from moving. You kissed his lips and released his face.

He brought you closer and hugged you, your face hiding on his chest. He was happy. You weren’t feeling like shit anymore, you were feeling like the luckiest woman in the damn end of the world.

You were trying for babies as soon as possible. That was what he thought, a smile on his face while he held you in his arms.

Wanna be added to my tag list? Let me know. (Please tell me if you want to be tagged on everything or just specific series) Everything Taglist: @lilyevanstan1325

[andillneverbethesame]

𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒎𝒑𝒂𝒈𝒏𝒆 𝒑𝒓𝒐𝒃𝒍𝒆𝒎𝒔.

❥ harry potter x fem!reader

❥ summary; you didn't want to break his heart but you had to

❥ warnings; none really

❥ a/n; 99% based off champagne problems by taylor swift!!

"your ticket, please," said the ticket collector. it was loud enough for the young man to hear but he remained still, staring out of the window. "sir?"

harry's head snapped to the man's direction. "oh, yes, sorry." his hand quickly found it 's way into the pocket of his jacket. unconsiously, while grabbing the little paper, his fingers also wrapped around a tiny box and when he gave opened his hand to give the collector his ticket, it fell onto the floor.

harry stared at it for a moment and the man chuckled, realising what was inside.

"i can see why you're so lost in your thoughts," said the man. "i'm sure she'll say yes. good luck!"

"she said—" before harry could finish the sentence, the door of the compartment closed, "no."

he sighed and glanced back at the black box between his feet, wondering if it would matter if he simply left it there. maybe some man finds it and will be lucky, not like me, he thought. but he bent and picked it up anyway. it was his mother's ring after all.

——————————————————————

the way back to london was endless.

earlier that night, harry was joined by two young men and women who seemed that they couldn't shut their mouths no matter what. harry wanted to pack his things and find another compartment. he wanted to sleep and let himself dream that things went differently.

but now, that everyone but him was asleep, harry wanted nothing more but to be a part of a conversation that didn't involve relationships, marriage, kids or anyone named y/n. his thoughts didn't let him fall asleep no matter how much he tried.

——————————————————————

"want to go somewhere more quiet?" harry whispered in your ear, making you shiver and at the same time, setting your skin on fire under his warm touch on your upper arm.

you turned around and smiled. "now, harry, that would be so inappropriate from me," you pointed at the small tiara ginny put on your head earlier. "it's my birthday party."

your boyfriend put on a puppy face. "please?"

you rolled your eyes and chuckled. you put your hand in his open one. "how could i say no to that face?" you glanced back at your friends who were sitting at the same table as you. "excuse me, everyone."

ron, hermione and luna all sniggered and then winked at you. you furrowed your eyebrows in confusion but you blamed it at the alcohol.

harry lead you outside on the driveway in front of your parents's house. his other hand travelled to your lower back and you put yours on his shoulder.

"have i told you how beautiful you look tonight?" harry stared into your eyes. blood rushed into your cheeks and you only hoped the dim light from the lamp post wasn't bright enough for him to see how he makes you feel.

"about a million times," you responded. "but it won't hurt to hear it again."

"you really look enchanting. i don't know how i got this lucky." before you could respond, harry pulled you into a deep kiss, leaving you breathless.

"what's gotten into you, huh?" you asked after catching you breath. "not that i don't like it."

"it's a special day."

you shrugged. "only my birthday."

"maybe not only that."

you raised your eyebrow. "huh? what?"

instead of responding verbally, harry lowered himself and got on one knee.

you snorted. "babe, what are you doing? get up!" he didn't. he pulled a tiny black box out of the pocket of his suit and opened it.

a gasp left your mouth at the sight of a ring you recognised. you've seen it before. it was his mother's.

"harry. . ." in all the shock, it felt impossible to say anything else.

the boy couldn't hear the tone in your voice. the one that obviously said, "please, don't continue, i don't want to break your heart."

"y/n, i've said it before and here i am kneeling before you, saying it again; the years we've spent together were the best years of my life. and i want to feel this way until my last day. because only with you, i can die happy. so. . . y/n y/l/n, will you marry me?"

you stared at him, wide eyed with your mouth open. you definitely didn't see this coming when he lead you outside. however, you were sure of your answer.

"y/n?" the smile he had before was slowly fading away from his face with every passing second you took to answer.

you shook your head. "no, harry, not now."

the look in his eyes broke your heart. "what? what do you mean?"

you sighed, turned around and started walking away from him. he got up and you heard him running to you. he got a hold of your hand, making you turn around once again.

"you can't just reject me and leave like that without any explanation, y/n."

"i'm sorry, harry, i really am!" tears threatened to fall out of your eyes.

"i don't want to hear you're sorry," harry was crying by this point. "i want to hear why you don't want to marry me."

"we're too young, harry, i am not ready for this kind of commitment yet!" you explained.

"young?" harry repeated loudly. "we're twenty. my parents got engaged straight after finishing their n.e.w.t.s exams!"

"and that's great if that worked for them, but i am not your mum and you, as much as you look like him, are not your dad. we are not them, harry! i'm sorry if you don't want to hear that but that's the truth!"

"i can't believe this," harry retorted. "were you ever even planning on marrying me? was i even in the image when you imagined your future?"

"of course, you were," you tried to calm him down. you reached for his hand but he backed away before your fingers could even connect. "it's just too early."

"it's never early when it's the one," he claimed. "i'm gonna ask you a question and i want a brutally honest answer. am i the one for you?"

"yes! yes, you are!" you cried out. by this moment, your mascara was smudged and you were having trouble seeing clearly through the tears. "never in my life have i had any doubts about that. harry, i do want to spend the rest of my life with you. and we will get married, but just not now."

"well," harry put the ring back into his pocket. "i don't want to wait." and with that, he left you out there standing.

when he was out of sight, you, very slowly, made your way back into the house.

cheering was the first thing you heard when you walked into the living room. hermione splashed out on the bottle. but after everyone got a good look at the state you were in, everyone stopped celebrating.

"y/n? what happened? where's harry?" ron asked.

"he's gone. forever."

——————————————————————

"so, she just said. . . no?" lily, harry's mum, asked for what felt like millionth time.

"yes, mum," harry mumbled, his fork playing with the potatoes on his plate.

"but i just don't understand. why?"

"she said she wasn't ready."

james potter snorted. "what a stupid excuse."

lily still couldn't wrap her head around the fact that you won't be her daughter in law. "but she would've made such a lovely bride."

"yeah," sirius black agreed. "what a shame she 's fucked in the head."

"sirius," harry glared at him.

"what?" the man put his hands up in defense. "i'm just saying, if she had a common sense, she would've said yes in a heartbeat."

harry shrugged. "maybe, it's for the best. guess it wouldn't work when we both want something else."

——————————————————————

2 years & 7 months later.

this was the worst date of your life.

you weren't even listening to the man sitting in front of you. all he did was talk about himself. he didn't even ask you a question. he doesn't know a thing about you while you knew everything about him. even the name of his grandma.

"y/n, if you excuse me, i'll go use the toilet."

you faked a smile and nodded. "alright."

"be right back."

"oh, you don't have to be," you said under your breath while you watched him leave.

you looked around the restaurant, thinking and searching for something that could get you out of the situation. just then, you heard it. the voice you haven't heard in almost three years.

"y/n?"

he looked the same like the night you broke up, just a bit older. he wore the same glasses that made his eyes bigger. he was dressed in a black suit and he looked so charming as always.

what caught you off guard was the girl who was standing next to him. ginny looked so much more mature now. her red hair was in braid. she wore long dark green dress that almost matched her eyes. she looked magnificent.

they looked magnificent together.

"wow, harry, ginny," you were speechless. "hi."

you hadn't seen anyone from harry's friend group for a while. you and hermione occasionally called but that was it. interesting she didn't mention this.

"what are you doing here?" harry asked but before you could answer, your date came back.

"um, martin, meet old friends of mine — harry and ginny. harry, ginny, this is martin."

after they all shook the other's hands and exchanged all their "nice to meet you"'s, the couple excused themselves and went to sit down so they could order their dinner. suddenly, you didn't want to leave the restaurant so much anymore. something kept you there.

while martin went on to talk about his job, you pretended to listen while keeping an eye at the table harry and ginny sat at.

you couldn't help but wonder how the hell did this happen. questions came flooding into your brain. how? when? is it serious? are they engaged? how long after you shattered harry's heart did they start dating? do harry's parents like her more than they liked you? is he happier with her than he was with you?

about an hour later, you saw harry getting on one knee for the second time in his life.

you couldn't see ginny's face but you knew by the look in harry's eyes that this proposal is going a different way than when he proposed to you. you also couldn't help but to notice that it was the same tiny black box and the same ring.

but everything was different.

ginny nodded and pulled harry into a deep kiss.

you hoped that she'll patch up the tapestry you shred, that she stitches his heart right back up. and that he won't remember all your champagne problems.

[marchsfreakshow]

The Locket With A Masquerade {Tate Langdon x Reader}

You own a locket, you weren't sure who originally owned it until Tate helped you find who was in the picture.

Fluffy, and a bit short. 💜

First Tate fic, so I apologize in advance if it sounds ooc, but I love this idea.

Your perspective

⊹˚.⋆ ₊꒷ᘏᘏ︶ଓ︶꒷꒦⊹˚ᗢ₊꒷︶ଓ︶꒷

"What are you fiddling with?" Tate asked. He turned around so we were facing each other after cuddling for a bit. Then he gently held my locket. It was a simple oval shape and had a fuzzy picture or drawing in it.

"Not sure." I got it when I was 10, and got it adjusted as I aged, so it never accidentally choked me. He stared at it for a bit, sort of in awe at the actual locket itself. "It is a pretty necklace I'll admit."

"It looks beautiful on you."

"Shut up." I gently pushed him away out of embarrassment, and looked away from him, out the window instead. He just smiled and moved towards me more. The window was foggy and it was difficult to see out of but, it was nice anyway.

"Do you know who is on the locket?" Tate asked, wrapping his fingers around it again. We faced each other again, and at this point, I was practically on top of him, not that either of us minded. But I shook my head and wrapped my arms around his neck, snuggling into him.

"Let's look."

"nah.."

"Why not? It could be fun."

"Sleepy."

"Come on, let's go have a look." I begrudgingly rolled off him, and grabbed my small laptop, opening it up, and letting it turn on. The rain was turning into a storm, so I lightly groaned.

"A storm usually means the wifi is gonna go nuts." Rolling my eyes, I checked the wifi, and it seemed to be okay, so I clicked on Internet Explorer, staring blankly at it. "Where do we start?" I mentioned, turning over to look at Tate, who was in his little world.

"Helloooo? Mr Langdon sir?" He shook his head, reached behind my neck and took the locket off. Then he opened it and studied the picture.

"A woman." Tate started. Very helpful. "From...the 20's? I think?"

"Very helpful Tate. Millions of women lived through the 1920's." Despite my negativity, I searched for a registry and looked for women who lived in California in the 20's. "Is there anything else you can see? I know the picture is very blurry."

"...look up Rudolph Valentino."

"Valentino? Uh, okay." As I looked him up in the registery, I saw no clues. "Why?"

"The Woman in Black! The one who always visited Valentino's grave. Have you never heard of her?"

I shook my head, then laughed at the prospect of constantly visiting someone's grave. "Apparently not." But I decided to search for her anyway.

A few minutes of silent searching went by. "Elizabeth Johnson. Born 1902, death year unmarked." I muttered, running my finger along the information it gave me. "A background actor on the set of The Sheik and worked with Valentino."

"Do you think this is her?"

"There aren't any photos of her to reference." But I shrugged my shoulders and carried on deep-diving the internet for a few minutes as Tate cuddled himself up next to me, resting his cute head of blonde hair on my stomach. As I read an article about Valentino, I kissed Tate's head, so he knew I appreciated him. "Is this her?" I asked soon enough, bringing up a picture of a woman standing next to Valentio and the other actors. Blonde hair, crimped up, the famously thin eyebrows from the '20s, and wonderful, red lips. Her eyes had something. A light we both liked to look at.

Tate then looked at the fuzzy picture, and the face structure was as similar as we could make out. We both switched between the picture in the locket and the photo in the Google search. "I think so." He smiled, closing the locket and putting it back around my neck. "You're so much more beautiful than her."

"She's gorgeous, I couldn't compare to her. I do wonder how she died though. And when."

"...No you're much prettier." Tate grinned, closing the laptop and putting it on the floor right by us.

"Shut up." I chuckled quietly, kissing Tate and bringing him close. Elizabeth looked wonderful, in the picture, and in the locket. I started to wonder about my connection to her if I had one at all. My mum never spoke to me about my family or our history. Or if she just put a random picture of a 1920s actor in the locket to make it seem like I was interesting.

Tate didn't seem to mind at all. He didn't seem to hear any negativity I said about myself at all. But I stared at him while he lay on my chest, sleeping. It felt cheesy to think that he was like Rudolph Valentino, but, not an actor. He slept peacefully, but I decided to place the locket around his neck. It made him, and I thought it fitted him.

"I love you, Tate," I whispered to him.

⊹˚.⋆ ₊꒷ᘏᘏ︶ଓ︶꒷꒦⊹˚ᗢ₊꒷︶ଓ︶

Tag requests: @strangerthings420

[nerdieforpedro]

Watch me and Touch it Querida

Santiago "Pope" Garcia x plus size female reader

Fanfiction is 18+ MDNI

Main Masterlist / Santiago Garcia Masterlist / Oscar Isaac Masterlist

Word Count: 4.4k

Summary: You have a crush on your long time friend Santiago. After the events of Columbia, he stays in your spare bedroom. You two make good roommates. Pope decides to ask you a question that you thought was just a throwaway. Turns out he was serious.

Warnings: Teasing, Hair worship (is this a thing? I guess it is now 👀), oral sex (female receiving), fingering (female receiving), unprotected P in V (wrap them thangs up), cockwarming, aftercare, bad jokes throughout (another Nerdie staple)

Notes: My first Santiago smut! I think I captured his essence. Maybe, Ya'll will have to let me know. Also, I apologize to anyone who actually plays guitar, I just looked up what Google said were the four basic chords.

The first clue should have been that he asked to stay with you. He had three other men, his brothers, that he could have stayed with. Especially since they don't talk about whatever happened last month. Santiago ‘Pope’ Garcia is a flirt of a man, has been since you’ve known him. You pay him no mind, his little compliments don’t phase you - much. He would call and text you in between deployments and later when he was out of the military. He’d also call when he was in the States or overseas consulting. Just checking in on you, he would normally lead with asking about how you were doing. Your mind constantly told you it’s the kind of thing he would do with  the guys except they likely have private jokes. Your heart tells you it might be more, but your mind usually wins with reasoning.

Him moving in went fine. Pope didn’t have much with him. A few duffle bags and a backpack. He took up your second bedroom and things were easy. Just fine. They guys joked that you two should have been roommates years ago since you got along so well. They’re not wrong, you just still need him to move out. Which is impossible to ask considering one of his friends just died on their trip, none of them will say how and even though they all still get along, neither Frankie, Will or Benny will let Pope stay with them. Suspicion is high that there’s some lingering resentment there, but it’s not your place to ask. You weren’t there. You don’t know and you’re not going to.

You haven’t seen any odd habits so far. He cleans up after himself, cooks every once in a while. No women have been in your guest room that you know of and you never want to know if they have. The conversations flow easily and he plays his guitar sometimes, letting you sit on his bed next to him while he plays different chords. Strong hands alternate between picking at the strings and strumming them, Santi softly hums a tune you’re not familiar with.  There was a Die Hard marathon you both watched together the other day. No red flags….which should have been red flag two for you.

He’s your friend. Almost a brother to you. You can’t be looking at how his polo shirts cinch around his waist and slight tummy or how they’re struggling with every thread on those biceps of his. The man has a million watt smile with curls to match, a dangerous five o’clock shadow, plush lips and warm chocolate eyes that focus on you when you speak. When he calls your name, you always exhale, it sounds perfect out of his mouth. Your thoughts haven’t even broached his thighs or that perfect curve he calls an ass when he asks you out of the blue. You’re minding your own business on the couch reading a book. Lying to yourself that you’re going to do less screen time this year.

“You think I should grow it out? I’ve always shaved it.” How long had he been thinking about this? Wait…shave what? Not his head right?! Not those curls. Curls that you’d snuck your hands in only a handful of times copying a noogie that Benny would do and only when the others were around. So silky with a touch of gray….He had asked a question. About his hair, shaving it…

“Santiago. Please don’t shave your head.” You pleaded, harder than you meant it to come out, but you were serious. It warranted your book closing and to look up at him. Why did he have to stand in front of you like that? Sure most people do that, but it’s not okay when he does it. You’re aware of this and the fact that you still haven’t told this man to move in with one of his brothers means you’re the  third red flag. At some point, you became okay with the idea of throwing away your friendship with Santiago. Oolging him when he’s not aware and looking forward when he’s away for a few days so you can think more about his merits and assets. Possibly with a few handheld aides.

He laughed at you and sat down on the couch. “No tonta (silly). Grow a beard. My facial hair grows pretty fast anyway. What do you think? You like facial hair on your men angel?” His shoulder nudged your arm. You chuckled at the thought that he joked about you having men. Pfft. Shaking your head, you playfully swatted his cheek, his rough stubble grazing your fingers. You made sure your hand came down to your knee, the desire to keep in on his face was too strong in the moment. 

“I think you could pull off a beard. You already have stubble half the time. Just don’t let it look raggedy Santi.” You smiled, trying to picture it. The most facial hair you’d seen him with was a mustache in pictures before Delta Force and he looked like a porn star. Hell he looked like one now. You need to stay focused, you’re having a conversation. If he did have one of those nice, maintained beards though…he might turn into an evil villain. They usually had some cool beards before getting thwarted by heroes. His grin at your very apparent compliment and distraction makes you lose the little focus you did have.

“Glad you believe in me. You didn’t answer my other question though.” Squinting your eyes, you’re confused for maybe the third time tonight. “Do you like facial hair on men or do you like them clean shaven?” He leaned in, very clearly expecting an answer. 

Frazzled, your answer matched your current state of mind, “I mean, more hair is always better than less hair. I love some friction, you know I’m used to it because of my thighs but that’s…it’s gotta be a different kinda of sensation when someone's doing it right and has a solid beard…” His wide eyes told you that you’d said too much. Way too much. You stood up and mumbled goodnight, cursing yourself and hoping that maybe he had another overseas contract soon. He grabbed your wrist  and stood with you.

“Is that what you like angel? Something for a different type of friction? Good to know. I take it you haven’t had that from what you said though. Sweet dreams cariño (dear).” Santiago said as he released your wrist. He knew damn well you weren’t going to sleep tonight and you didn’t. The next few days, he didn’t mention it and when you two met up with the guys and their girlfriends, he didn’t mention anything then either. By next week, you were sure it had blown over and he left saying he was going to be gone for two months. That was plenty of time to forget your mistake right?

The time came and went fast. Santiago was back…with a damn beard. It was black with gray strands at its edges. Letting his lips peek out from the oval of hair that formed around them. You looked, then turned and snuck another look. Angry that you did. Maybe he would shave once he got settled in. He greeted you with a hug, nuzzling his nose and jaw on your neck as he embraced you. You wanted to slap him for testing you, but maybe he didn’t remember, you also wanted to touch his face and kiss him to feel the hair on your face. Gazing up at him, his curls had grown out a bit more as well, more pronounced and larger. Pope said he was going to go take a shower and frankly, you felt you could use one too. Get these ideas out of your head. 

The first week is fine. A good amount of time spent with the guys both at bars, their places and in your apartment. The second week however was the kicker - Santiago had gotten some beard oil that smelled of cedar, jasmine and a hint of vanilla. You were thankful that Will wanted Santi to tag along with him this week for more motivational speaking engagements. Pope was out of the house and away from you smelling that damn delicious. 

As it was past 9pm on a Thursday, you were already in your oversized sleep shirt and panties. Not sexy at all. Not that you needed to be, you’re dancing around in your apartment. It’s something you haven’t done too much except when Santi’s out of town. It helped calm you and you could focus on the music and not your various worries, especially your thoughts about your roommate. 

Santiago unlocked the door to your apartment. He walked in and saw you in the living room. Swinging your hips, arms above your head. What should come on next but “Worth the Wait” by Kali Uchis & Omar Apollo. You’re singing along and moving with the music, it wouldn’t hurt to dance with you right? It’s not like he hasn’t danced with you around your home before, though that was usually to some boy bands that you would play because you knew he hated them. He took hold of your hands and interlocked his fingers with yours, his gaze on your surprised face as you stopped moving, but he brought one of your hands down and patted your hip to encourage you to continue to dance. The song is slow and the content is rather sensual. “Keep dancing cariño. With me.” Is the only thing he said as you two moved, your chests mere inches away from each other. He released your hands and placed them on your hips and yours immediately went to his beard. You figured if he’s going to dance with you like this, you may as well touch it. He let out a deep chuckle, leaning forward. Santi pressed his warm chest against yours, he spoke in your ear, “You like it, touch is querida (sweetheart)? I grew it just for you.” 

Your breath hitched when he said your name in your ear and his hands that had been on your hips, roamed your back. “Y-You did Santi? You didn’t have to…I..” His large hand ran up your neck and cupped the back of your head as he sang along to Kali’s next song “All Mine.” Your hands fell to his sides, pressing into his skin, kneading it. It would be embarrassing how moist your panties had become and that your nipples were hard as little pebbles if you didn’t feel the need to jump this man, but dancing is sweet and nice.

We’ll figure it out as we go, just you and me

But we won’t leave each other alone, that’s all mine

All me, all me All mine, All mine, all mio, mio, mi

All mine, all mine, all mio, mio, mi

Both of you continued to rock side to side until the song ended and Santiago stood to his full height. You wondered if maybe you’d gotten too lost in the music and had imagined everything. You hadn’t let go of him yet, if you weren’t hallucinating then that meant this just happened and maybe you could act on what you’d been feeling. “Santiago. What you just sung, did you mean it?” Your eyes scanned his face, you wouldn’t be distracted this time. He had essentially used a song to confess his feelings to you, but it needed to be said outside of a song. Pope took hold of your chin and smiled. 

“Yes I meant it. I know how you’ve been undressing me the entire time I’ve been here angel. I’m not an idiot. At least in that department. I’ll say I’m not great at long term relationships so we’ll take it how it goes, sí (yes)?” He offered. That was all you needed to cup his face, place your fingers in his beard and pull him in for a frantic kiss. He appeared surprised which made you grin as he parted his lips for you, quickly recovering and wrapping his arms around you pulling you toward him as you let him in, his tongue exploring your mouth. The groan you released was loud as you pressed your thighs together, feeling the wetness spread. You pulled out of the kiss and pulled him toward your bedroom. “Cariño, you sure?” He asked with slightly red lips. You answered by  pushing him onto the bed, hands on your hips, you scanned his body. He didn’t need to ask and you weren’t going to answer such a silly question. You smacked your lips at the tent in those damn cargo pants he always wore.

“Too many clothes Garcia. Take them off.” Your hands went to your hips. “Now.” Santiago hadn’t seen this side of you and was enjoying it. He was normally one to take charge in the bedroom. He removed his shirt, exposing his taut muscles that flexed as he fiddled with his belt and removed his boxers and pants in one drop. He kicked off his socks as he sat on the side of bed with his arms out. You stepped up to him but didn’t embrace him. Instead, you just dropped your soaked panties as they hit the floor, heavy with your own wetness. Santi looked down and muttered a soft, “fuck,” next you removed your shirt. Your curves on full display as he attempted to place his hands on your hips but you stopped him. “Up on the bed. I’m due some friction since you keep teasing it with me.” 

“¡Joder! (Fuck) , this is what you like huh? Being in charge? I’ll play along this time.” He slid back toward the top of the bed where you were expecting him in the middle.

“That’s where I’m supposed to be Santi. Move back down.” You motioned as the bed dipped, you crawled next to him and looked down at him. He smirked, damn grin. You wanted to pink he cheek, both sets. 

“No. If you’re going to take charge then you need the right seat angel.” He wiggled his eyebrows as you scratched your chin for a moment. It clicked, he wanted you to…no one’s ever asked that. Pope didn’t give you a choice about settling on his face gently. He turned on his side to grab your knees and pulled you over his shoulders, his breath on your slick inner thighs. “Look at you. You’ll drench me won’t you angel?” He turned his head to the side and rubbed his beard on your thigh, you brought your legs closer together and reached down, taking a handful of his curls while calling his name. 

“Dammit, you know how many nights I’ve thought about this, your curls and this beard? Don’t ever mention cutting your hair again unless I say so.” You growled, his nose tipped upward touching your clit momentarily before he drew back. “Fuck..you damn tease Santiago…” His hands roamed from your knees to your thighs and then your large ass, giving it a squeeze. It made you buck your hips and drop them, making your slick lips come into contact with his beard. Your yelp was sharp and followed by multiple curses as you heard Garcia laugh into your core. It didn’t matter now if he laughed, you were here, sitting on this man’s face. You dropped your hips to stifle him, calling his name as you sat. The sweet grate of his beard against your thighs and mound had you dripping.

Santiago had never seen you so feral. He was throbbing as he watched you cry out his name and felt his cock twitch when you pulled on his hair. He knew he had an effect on you but didn’t expect this. This was so much better than he could have imagined. Now that he could barely breathe, he opened his mouth, kissing your entrance before rolling his tongue around your tight hole. He estimated that he’d definitely need you come at least twice to accommodate him. He then had it pass your entrance to explore within you and he felt your strong pulses. He smirked again, hearing you scream as he went deeper before truly starting. He alternated hollowing out his cheeks to suck what felt like your uterus out of you and having his tongue press against your soft core. He was concerned for a moment that you may pull out a chunk of his hair, the way you were using his head to steady yourself as you grinded into his face. When he was pulling his tongue back to suck again, you screamed his name again and gushed, soaking his face, beard and neck. He drank as if he'd come in from a desert and you were the first source of water he’d come across. When your body relaxed, you fell forward and he slid from under you to lay next to you. Your face was sweaty and some of your hair was sticking to your forehead, one of your hands weakly came up to your face in an attempt to hide it but he grabbed it and kissed it gently.

“You asked me to strip so no hiding hermosa (gorgeous). You had your beloved friction?” He teased and you smiled, shaking your head. He didn’t forget that you said that. He remembers all the wrong things. He set your hand down on the bed and rubbed your back, “Ready for more? I’m going to need at least two more from you.” He explained and your eyes went wide. 

“I might have one…and that’s being generous of me. Why two?” You managed to prop yourself on your elbows but were still on your stomach. His hand continued to rub your back and slowly went to your ass, then a finger slipped into your sensitive sex, making you gasp. “Y-You need to warn someone when you do that…”

“That’s why, you’re a little too tight.” He kissed your shoulder and licked your ear, “those boys you’ve dealt with and your toys don’t prepare you for me querida.” His finger pumped slowly and as it reached deeper he added a second one, making you lift your right knee to allow yourself to open more. The squelching noises coming from your cunt had you whine as you gaze up at Santiago who was watching you, his gaze heavy. “I wonder which chord your pussy plays to angel?” He licked his lips and nibbled on your ear again before speaking again, “Em?” His fingers pumped into your straight, “how about C?” He curved his fingers slightly and your hips snapped, you opened your legs even wider as you began to wiggle against the mattress. 

Santiago stopped his fingers for a moment and flipped you on your back before adding a third finger and curling his fingers even more, “How about G?” His eyes were dancing, watching you pant from just his hand. You’re saying his name, but babbling angrily at him. He finds it adorable that you still have it in you to be angry. You could hold a grudge. He’ll fuck it right out of you. His free hand roams your wide stomach as you pull on the sheets around you and your legs continue to part for him, feet planted into the mattress as you move your hips with his fingers. He leans over you and kisses you gently to which you release the sheets and grab his head, digging into his curls again, biting his bottom lip. He draws back deciding to finish you. He wants to watch you as you climax this time, “let me give you chord D cariño.” Santiago crosses two of his fingers over each other, bends them slightly, hitting your spongy sensitive tissue. Your hands let go of his hair and grasp his forearms, digging your nails into them and you groan with your second climax, it feels stronger than the first as your back arches. He revels in watching your mouth wide open spilling with his name repeatedly, even the pain from your nails is welcome. He’s not normally into it being a bit rough, but he senses that you might not be aware of what you’re doing. He wouldn’t mention it now. Something else to tease you with later. 

Slowly you feel his fingers leave your drenched cunt, you feel like you’re floating but exhausted. Your eyes flutter, but you watch as he licks his fingers, hearing him moan as he does. It had your core stirring again. Having him take you apart, break you even though you planned to be much more assertive, initially you weren’t happy about it, but he’d done nothing except pleasure you since you’d ask him to strip. “S-Santi, do you want me to…” Your eyes trailed down to his swollen and dripping cock which looked thicker than any you’d had, even your dildos. You were understanding more why he made sure to prepare you first. 

“Not tonight. I bet you’re still pissed at me for teasing you. I know you hold onto a grudge like a dog with a bone, angel. You'll be a little less mad after I finish with you.” He rubbed his beard against your soft stomach before settling between your legs, “Ah! Damn it, I need a condom. I’ll have to go to my room, I have some-” His face went from smoldering to panicked, then to confusion as you reached down and gently gripped the head of his dick.

“I have an IUD Santiago. I’m not mad but, you’re not taking your cock out of me until it’s soft. I will be livid if you do.” His eyes were wide as your knees parted further and you brought his head to your entrance. He placed his hand over yours and moved it gingerly. You watched as he looked up at you.

“I didn’t realize you were such a dangerous woman. As my angel wants.” Santiago slid into your wet cunt halfway, watching you to see if you had any discomfort. It was slight, only from the stretch, he was so girthy. You growled at him.

“You’re not all the way in are you? I’m fine. Just move, Please Santi…” That famous grin spread over his face as he pushed forward until his hips were flush with yours. “Yes…that’s it…fuck it’s so much. This was in those damn pants? It isn’t enough that  you have that ass?” You managed a small giggle, reaching your hands to cup his face. “Fuck me while you kiss me with this beard you sexy bastard.”

“You’re so damn kinky cariño. I love it and you, too.” His lips crashed into yours as he started his pace, not bothering with slow as he drew back and gave deep thrusts that kept hitting your cervix. Moans between the two of you had your lips swollen as you kept needing to either bite, suck or release cries. His hands moved from your stomach to your knees, bending your legs back and tipping your hips upward slightly, hitting an entirely different angle. Santiago was up on his knees and had moved out of your reach so you placed your hands over his that were on the back of your knees. Between him rutting into you and the bending you were doing to try and touch any part of him, your insides were quivering again. You were close again already. 

“S-Santi..It’s…” You stuttered, in between your whines. He nodded as he felt you starting to clamp around him, he felt his balls tightening. Dropping one of your knees, he wrapped an arm around your back to bring you close to him, one hand went to his soft curls, now drenched with sweat and the other held the back of his neck as your thumb ran across his temple and grazed his beard. With a few more pumps, Santiago spilled into you, groaning into a rough kiss with you, his teeth nearly colliding with yours if you hadn’t had your tongue run along them. The sensation of him filling your core, had your third orgasm begin. Pope slowly dragged his softening cock along your walls to extend it, he kissed trailed down your neck. When both of your bodies stopped moving, Santi gave it a minute and went to pull out to which you wrapped your legs around him. 

“Not yet. Just inside, a little longer Santi.” You cooed, kissing his shoulder. He nodded and held you, as the both of you soaked in each other’s warmth. When you removed your arms from him, he took that to mean that he could move which he did. He went to your bathroom as you tried to sit up. He looked back to you and quickly motioned for you to stay on the bed. He returned with a warm washcloth after whipping himself off and opened your legs. The cool air had you let out a quiet sigh. 

“Careful, you keep sounding like that, I may have you ride my face again angel.” You laughed knowing you didn’t have the strength to do so no matter how tempting it sounded. He carefully wiped, making you flinch as your cunt was swollen and sensitive. Once he finished, he helped you sit up and helped you to the bathroom. After the clean up was done, you both returned to bed, getting under the sheets, you laid next to Santi  and twirled a finger in his curls. “Ven aquí (come here) cariño. You enjoy yourself?” He pulled your upper body onto his chest, preferring to be face to face with you.

“I did. I’m going to be sore for a few days, but it’s worth it.” A soft smile graces your face as does Santi’s. You peck his lips and lay your head on his chest. His laugh vibrates throughout his chest. His hands are once again on your back, stroking it. It’s relaxing. 

“Good to know I’m worth it angel. I was starting to think all your staring had you rethinking my beard.” You poked out your bottom lip and pinched his bicep. His hands grabbed your hips and jiggled the extra flesh you had on them. 

“You could have just asked you damn tease.” 

“Nah. I had to make you work for it a bit. I’m not an easy man cariño.” He kissed your forehead as his hands traveled back up to your back. 

“You’re near impossible is what you are, Santiago. You’re lucky I love you.”

“Yeah, that I do know querida. I love you too.” A comfortable silence fell over the two of you in each other’s arms, fully exposed to each other finally. 

Music from the fic:

Santi's Peaches 🍑: @for-a-longlongtime @legendary-pink-dot @maggiemayhemnj @morallyinept @megamindsecretlair @pedritapascal @rhoorl @dameron-grant-spector @pamasaur @sin-djarin @i-own-loki @soft-persephone @soft-girl-musings @readingiskeepingmegoing @saturn-rings-writes @yorksgirl @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @musings-of-a-rose @heareball @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @magpiepills @trulybetty @wannab-urs @pedroshotwifey @missladym1981 @agentjackdaniels

[farahtissaiamyloves]

Are your requests on? If so could I request something with Andromache? I love her and there’s not enough fanfiction out there with her

-Ara

Capture

Andromache of Scythia x reader

Note: I know that I've been gone for months. However, I've been preparing for the most important examinations of my life, and it's been really stressful for me. I hope you enjoy this and thanks again to Ara for the amazing request.

You were looking out of the only window of your room - more like a cell, but you had come to accept that long ago.

You considered yourself lucky - what they did to Quynh was by far worse from what was happening to you.

At least that's what you had convinced yourself.

Dying again and again, only to be brought back to life to die once again deep down the sea, was horrible.

However, being captured for (you had lost count) something more than 4 centuries was even more horrific.

You missed your best friend, of course you did, but the emptiness that washed over you at your wife's absence was something else.

You and Andy were the first immortal warriors. She had found you pretty quickly. You hadn't even understood when you died or what the weird dreams were before she sat you down and explained.

You hadn't been apart ever since. Spending every single day next to her was a privilege and a gift.

You learned so many things from her. After all, Andromache had already been alive for 300 years.

After spending a s couple of decades traveling around the world with her as your only company, it came to no surprise for neither of you when you ended up sleeping together one night.

And that night proved to be the beginning of the most wonderful thing that ever happened to both of your lives.

You loved every second of it.

You being wrapped in her arms while she was kissing the top of your head or you caressing her naked, extremely soft skin as she was wrapping a blanket around the two of you; Andy couldn't have her beloved baby catch a cold.

You teared up recalling your wife. Your beloved wife.

You wrapped your hands around your legs and pushed them against your chest.

You missed her.

You missed her so much.

After 5000 years and a couple of centuries, you were finally divided.

You looked up as you saw the door opening.

A paramedic came in with a huge needle.

Here we go again.

꧁☾︎❥︎☽︎꧂

Andy looked at the only building standing in the area. The only building among a plethora of trees and all kinds of plants.

" Alright, Joe, remind us one last time what we are her for. " Andy spoke.

" We are here to save all the girls/women those people experiment on. We don't know more, including the number of either the victims or the security agents, which means that caution is strongly recommended. " The man pointed out.

The rest of the team nodded, listening carefully.

Little did they know about who the real guinea pig was.

꧁☾︎❥︎☽︎꧂

They killed, killed, and killed once again.

They found countless of the latest laboratory equipment, yet no girl or woman asking for their help.

The team knew that it wasn't a trap.

No trap would have been equipped with so many tools costing millions.

Andy was growing more and more frustrated.

For a human with that much of an experience, she should have caught on by now.

" Guys, I think I found it. " Nicky whispered, pointing with his gun at the only door of the corridor at their right.

They as silently as they could run to it. The door did look like a cell. A bulletproof door with a password was always placed to hide something important, and the group came to this very same building for something important.

If they weren't able to free any innocents, they could at least learn what the fuck was happening there to put a stop to it.

Joe placed some light explosives on the door, telling everybody to buck off, which they were more than eager to do.

He pushed the button and a loud sound was heard, shortly followed by the sound of the door falling on the floor.

The team immediately raised their weapons and entered the room, shouting that they were armed.

Nile, who was the first to get in, quickly scanned the whole room and announced to everybody what they could already see with their bare eyes. " It's empty. "

Realizing that it was just a simple bedroom, the team was to turn away until Nicky pointed at the bed. " I think someone's sleeping there. "

" Don't be ridiculous. Wouldn't have they heard the explosives ? " Nile jumped in.

" Not if they were dragged. Guys, I think we found our victim. " Andy spoke slowly, walking to the bed.

She noticed that the person was fully covered by the blanket, so she slowly pulled it off only to freeze midway.

Andy knew that sleeping face.

Truth be told, she knew it better than her own face.

She had traced it countless of times with her fingertips.

She had seen all kinds of emotions on that face.

" A-Andy ? Is something wrong ? " Nile inquired, feeling beyond confused with the leader's teared up face.

" Shhhhh. "

Nile turned to look at both Joe and Nicky, giving her stern glances.

" What ? " She asked again, unable to understand where her wrongdoing was.

" Oh my love. I thought you were dead. " Andy whispered, kissing the top of your head.

She, then, turned to the couple. " Me and Nile are going to get her to the safe house. You make sure to clear everybody out and destroy this place. Nobody should know anything concerning our immortality. Was I clear ? "

" Yes, boss. "

" Good. "

꧁☾︎❥︎☽︎꧂

You slowly opened your eyes.

Sleeping under the influence of whatever drugs they were giving you had the luck and the curse of having no dreams.

You blinked, taking in your surroundings.

No.

Not again.

You hated when they were changing your room because that meant that they had given you strong enough medication to sleep for days.

Suddenly feeling unwell, you instinctively placed a hand on top of your head, and with the other, you pulled the blanket to cover you completely.

" You've already slept for at least 10 hours, I recommend waking up, eating something, and walking around for a while. " Suddenly, a voice interrupted your thoughts.

Your blood froze for a whole second, thinking that your wife just talked to you.

However, you knew better. Drugs have side effects. They made sure you knew each and every single one.

You didn't move - not even to look, still remembering how heartbroken you had been the last time you did - and closed your eyes to sleep.

" Darling, did you hear me ? " Andy made her voice sweeter, waiting for you to move and see her sitting on the armchair near the bed.

Andromache waited a couple of minutes to watch the lack of reaction. Maybe your hearing had been impacted, or maybe you were still hazy due to being drugged the day prior.

The woman sighed, sitting up.

" Sleep well, sweating. " She wished kissing the top of the blanket - where your forehead was.

꧁☾︎❥︎☽︎꧂

You were frozen on the spot. Your mind running a million miles per second.

In the back of your mind you registered her steps and the door opening and closing.

You felt it. You felt her lips through the blanket.

Your wife was here.

She rescued you.

You teared up, unable to resist.

Your wife came for you.

She hadn't forgotten about you.

She still loved you.

Your hand reached the other pillow of the bed. Slowly, as you were still slightly hazy from your sleep, you moved your head on top of it.

It was her.

Her smell.

She had you sleep on her bed.

How long had it been since you shared one.

You immediately wrapped your hands around it and pulled Andy's pillow onto your chest.

You loved her so, so much.

However, still being under the influence of the drug, you quickly fell asleep once again.

This time with your beautiful wife on your mind.

꧁☾︎❥︎☽︎꧂

Andromache came back into the room after a couple of hours.

She had to make sure that everything was taken care of as well as cook you some food.

Andy quietly set the tray down at the bedside table and looked at you.

A smile formed on her face as she noticed your figure wrapped around her pillow.

" Darling, you have to wake up. " She whispered with her sweetest voice next yo your ear.

You whined and turned your face away from her, burying your face in her pillow.

Andromache gently shook your shoulder while leaving small kisses wherever she could reach, mainly your shoulder.

You opened your eyes, slowly turning to face your one and true love, the very person to whom you have devoted yourself for a couple of thousand years.

Still feeling dizzy, you sleepily smiled at her as you reached to caress her cheek. " Morning. " Your voice was way too harsh than your normal one, as you realized you had probably spent a day without a single drop of water.

Andy kissed your forehead lovingly. She brought a cup of water to your lips and propelled you to drink some.

You happily did as Andy wanted you to, too dizzy to oppose her (not that you would have, you were quite thirsty).

As Andromache placed the cup of water back to its place, you took the chance to wrap your hands around her waist and bury your head in her neck.

Your wife chuckled at your adorable reaction and embraced you back, pulling your body closer to her.

" God, I thought you were dead. " She whispered, continuing washing your body with kisses.

" I... " You stopped midsentence, not sure about how what you intended to say would sound to her.

Andy gently messaged your sculp, silently propelling you to talk to her.

You took a deep breath as you turned to look at her with teary eyes. " I wish I was... "

Andy took your face in her arms. " No. No. Don't you dare ever say that. "

You shook your head, casting your gaze downward. " But, it's true. "

" If you had died, my love, we would have never reunited, would we ? " Andromache countered.

You hesitantly looked upward, at her beautiful striking eyes. " It was torture. "

Your wife gave you a sad smile. " I know. I know... But the important thing is that you are here, in my arms, safe and sound. "

You nodded reciprocating the gesture. " Indeed. "

" And just like back then.... We have all the time in the world to do whatever we please. " Andy's smile widened as her eyes narrowed meaningfully.

You laughed a little, wondering how could a single person delete 400 years of torture, but then again.

That person was your beloved wife.

Your Andy.

[harryleatherfit]

Poker Face🃏|| 7.5k

Joel Miller (no breakout! au) x F! Genius Reader

1980’s Vegas Strip, late night in the Bellagio Hotel, smoking and waiting on some poker with your friend Margaret, infamous Corporate Litigators walk in for a game to play, sitting at your table comes Joel Miller, little do any of them know that you have a photographic memory.

warnings: gambling, mentions of bullying, women’s life in the 80’s, asshole men, p in v sex (wrapped!), clit stimulation, doggy style, squirting (but she doesn’t know), f oral receiving, fingering v, alcohol consumption, smoking, RICH JOEL, etc etc

word count: 7.5K

One Shot Playlist

Rush- Troye Sivan

Million Dollar Man- Lana Del Ray

In My Feelings- Lana Del Ray

Family Tree- Ethel Cain

Vegas strip, Bellagio. 1982.

Late at night, the bottom floor of the bellagio hotel was usually filled to the brim. The massive room is predominantly packed with businessmen , hookers, CEOS, average folk and tourists. You weren’t any of the above but you were special. Nobody knew your secret, nobody knew that the girl at the corner of the Poker table would always win, and this made you a gem. Not a tourist. Not an old rich white man. Not a hooker. Out of all the possibilities from the Vegas stript you were a fucking winner.

On multiple occasions, men from every block of the room would try to buy you a drink, lure you to the top floors of the hotel, bring you into private rooms, intrigue you with money and sex parties. But they always failed, mens tactics could never work on you.

You had to take it, accept that this was how you would always be viewed, not a woman but a body. After this, nothing felt better than taking their fucking money on the casino floor untouched.

Starting from this, Every weekend you would follow your friend Margaret to her job at the Bellagio, she was a dealer for poker, and got called in on very busy weekends. You didn’t mind tagging along all these years, she knew you would have fun too.

Margaret always wanted more for you, she would show you guys that she thought would be good for you. Slightly talking to them to make her happy. But never being satisfied with their answers.

Single and rich in vegas? Shit.

Were you average? Not particularly.

You were sitting back at the corner of the table on a hot summer night, studying the cards. It was earlyish in the evening, a live jazz band playing in the corner of the room. Welcoming people to stay in their hotel and stay a while for a game. Maragaret was setting up her table and drinking wine.

You understood the game of poker, it intrigued you, cards considering your future fortune. Poker was the game all the men wanted to play. Night after night of studying the game and the cards, you would eventually study the men, profile them and figure all the money they had to give from their pockets.

“What’s your plan tonight, you smart bitch?” She asks, moving around her chips and taking a sip from her glass. She opened her cigarette container, handing you one and giving you a light. She would always buy a carton for the both of you to smoke through.

She was dressed in a tight long black skirt with a backless wine red top. She was limitlessly beautiful and you couldn’t understand why she wasn’t taken, but then again you were best friends for a reason. You were wearing a black slip on silk dress, in the 80’s on the vegas trip, nobody would have cared how much clothes you wore.

“Hmmm, I’m thinking of making enough money for the both of us to go away for a while… I was thinking about New York.” You wink, “I hear it’s an up and coming city, c’mon we stay for a while and see what happens.”

“Maybe, depending on how much you make.” She laughs.

“1,000? 2? Maybe 3?”

“Don’t test your luck hot shot, you don’t even have a thousand to give, and then the moment you lose how would you pay them?”

“I’d find a way.” You grin, you point at your head.

“Mhm photographic memory will always beat the penis owners in here.” She giggles.

“I’ll drink to that Marg.”

Your ‘gift’ was the reason why you would win, after visiting Marg at her job and participating in some games, luck wasn’t your factor in winning every game. It was your memory.

You could see the cards the way Margaret would shuffle them, you would remember where they were placed in the deck, slightly peeking at the cards from your opponents.

When you would leave the strip with cash spilling out of your purse, it was a rush you couldn’t describe, a euphoria you never wanted to share with any other man. It was all for you, you did this all on your own, you were your own person and you never had to make a man happy.

You tried to act dumb, you tried to shade it off everytime you won, everytime you knew what cards the men around you had you had to play it off with a nice smile.

Growing up, you used this to your advantage, you flew through school and college. Growing up in the 60s-70s and being smarter than all the boys in your class was practically unheard of. But this, this was a challenge for you. Practically gambling your life away, just on your memory was a thrill you thought you would never experience. Using your looks and your brain to use men made you feel powerful.

You thought of this as your night job, but you worked for a place that invented math. It was quiet and secluded, but in the 80s, something was always being invented. Margaret always asked you questions, always wondered how you had the storage for this in your brain. You couldn’t believe it yourself, but you studied the philosophical part of math, why more things needed to be invented. This was never important to you, but it did pay well.

“There’s supposed to be a group of men from a bigger company coming in tonight.” She nudges at you.

“And…” You drag.

“Who knows…they come over here, play a game with you. You find a man that will sweep you off your feet and marry you!”

“Hell nooo, no marrying.” You shriek, “No long term commitments please, I owe myself at least that. But if they’re rich then maybe some rounds.” You smile.

New York was smelling real rich right now.

“Of fuck… look they’re coming in now, look, look!”

You flip your body around the chair, looking down the pathway from where the concierge meets the casino, a group of men cascading down the carpet.

It was a group of 5 men, all dressed in suits, hair tassel elegantly, black dress shoes shined with not one smear. You could practically smell them from a mile away. You could tell they were talking under their breath, laughing.

You and Margaret practically ogle them, you haven’t seen men like this before.

They had a style of fashion, you could tell they had money, and you could tell they weren’t from here.

You whisper, “Do you have any idea of what company?”

“No, I was just told there were important men coming in tonight and be prepared to see lots of cash tonight.”

Fucking hell.

They come closer to your side of the room, they pass the jazz band, pass all the food and side sushi restaurants, they weave through all the smaller gambling games coming over to the poker and black jack side.

You knew it.

“Look away, look away, if you look at them they’ll wanna come sit here.” You blow smoke out.

“That's the point!.” Marg whispers under her breath.

Not many tables were full, but there wasn’t an almost completely empty table for all of the men to fill. You knew they would sit with you, it was as if this night was planned.

They walk closer to you, feeling the breeze of all of them brush past you, standing at the game, observing the two girls in front of them.

“Is this table taken?”

You turn around again, drawing in your breath as you do so. The men standing in front of you were beautiful, but one in particular, you had to double take to make sure he wasn’t Burt Renolds. The man you suppose that asked, was the most godly creature you’ve seen.

“Not as long as you all would like to play some rounds with me.” You smirk.

They chuckle and eye you, taking a draw out of your cigarette. You move your jacket and purse from the table beside you, Marg moves her things from the table and reap through the cards.

“Mind if I sit next to you?” The man asks.

“No, please. I’m delighted.” You don’t miss your opportunity to realize how tall he is.

“Ready for some Texas Hold’em?” Marg asks.

“Giddy up horsey!” One of the men opposite from you chuckle, they all seem keen with each other, delighted that they could play together. He waivers down a server for alcohol, getting a bottle and glasses for the group.

“Darlin, would you like some?”

“If you wouldn’t mind,” You mumble. Prim and proper was all you had to be. At this very minute you were mindlessly going through the combinations of cards when Margaret was shuffling the cards. You could hear the stifling of the suits falling in place within her hands.

The man next to you hands over a glass, “What’s your name sugar?”

“So we’re on a first name basis now?” You tease, “What’s yours handsome?”

“Mhm I’m handsome now?” He shakes your hand, “ I’m Joel.” You see his skin, you scan his hand. His fingers are really fucking big. He had massive rings on a couple of his fingers, but noy any on his ring fingers. Your hand slips through his, not going unnoticed, the veins starting at his palm, his finger nails trimmed, cuticles cut perfectly.

You give him your name, looking the other way to get the last drag out of your cigarette.

He whispers your name to himself, like a soft prayer.

“Next to me is my brother Tommy, that's James, Tyler, and William.”

“Nice to meet you all.” You say, grabbing another cigarette out of Margs carton, cupping the light with your hands.

“Where you from?” He asks in a southern drawl. You can tell he’s not from here.

“I’m from Reno, grew up in Nevada my whole life. What about you Joel?”

“My brother and I are from Texas, I don’t ‘bout those yayhoos but we just recently moved to New York a couple years ago for our jobs. We’re all corporate litigators.”

“Corporate Litigators, impressive.” You chuckle.

He pauses, “ What do you do for a livin?”

What did you do for a living? You couldn't tell him.

“Well Margret and here, we're best friends, we work for each other.”

“You work for each other, in what way?” Tommy asks, Joel studies you.

“This one here can get you in trouble, watch out guys.” Margaret fills in, you roll your eyes laughing, you have to be careful how you start the night off with them, you can’t immediately believe you’ll win.

“Who wants the small blind and big blind?” Marg asks.

“No worries Joel and I will take it, wouldn’t want the lady and you hooligans having to pay immediately.” Tommy bellows.

You smirk, how kind of you.

“I’ll bet 20, what about you Joel?”

“100.” He blurts.

“Slow down, cowboy, don’t wanna scare off beautiful over there.”

“You’re not scaring me off, the night just started Tommy.”

Joel gets a wad of cash out, handing Marg a 100$ bill and her eyes avert to his cash, looking at you and winking. She passes out your 2 cards for the preflop round.

“What are you boys doing here in Vegas?” You ask.

“We’re just in town on a court case, profiling who we’ll be dealing with next week.” William replies.

“And to get some nice nights out.” James adds, his pupils were blown practically blown looking at you but there was no interest. He looked greasy and grimy. He looked like he was your age but he looked small and puny, begging for pussy without doing anything to earn it. Pathetic.

“Sugar, mind passing me a cigarette?” Joel asks.

You don’t falter giving him one, obediently doing as you're told. Fuck, this is not how you wanted this to go, but this was so much fun you couldn’t help it.

Your hand skids his again, begging for more. You give him a light and his Disneyland eyes thank yours.

Checking your cards, Queen of Diamonds, 10 of Diamonds you’re lucky you got the same suit. Not too bad, that means there’s a ⅖ probability someone would fold, would it be Joel?

“K sweets, you’re next to the big blind, what do you pick?”

You ponder, “I’ll call.” You shove in 100$ worth of chips, this is a test to see if anyone will twitch. If someone did you’d know they’d fold.

“I like that pretty girl.” Joel rasps.

Fucking hell.

William immediately folded, he looked embarrassed with the cards he got. Tyler calls with another 100$, James puts in 100$, and Tommy puts in 80$ to make it even.

600$ dollars itching to be touched.

“When you’d learn how to play poker darlin '?” Joel sits up.

“Well this until 3 years ago but I loved playing card games in college, an easy way of entertainment.”

“Entertainment huh? What’s entertainin’ to you?”

“Lots of things Joel. People, money, men, dreams, Vegas.” You trail off.

Marg giggles, “She’s a gem if you didn’t know.”

You smirk.

“That’s okay, gems make it big in this world, I’m here to experience one.” He shifts his hands to slightly touch yours.

You studied his face, his scruff looked enticing, his mustache making your mouth water. You haven’t felt anything this pungent for a man in years. You couldn’t control yourself. He looked years older than you, he wouldn’t want a girl your age? He could have anyone in this room, Margaret for fucks sake, not you.

But his hands, his arms bulged in his suit, his thighs expanding on the seat below him, his black shoes against the red of the carpet, the glow of the dark room coinciding with his skin, you needed to drink him.

“Princess we’ve been wavin to you, it’s your turn.”

Marg put down the 3 community cards.

King of Diamonds, Jack of Diamonds, Ace of Diamonds.

What were the fucking odds.

Tommy bet 100, Joel bet 100, not it was your turn to match or fold.

“100 in.” You murmur. Tyler folds.

“I’ll put in 150$.” James swindled more chips. You, Joel and Tommy did the same. Fucking arrogant asshole.

With Tyler and William out, 4 cards discarded that must have been bad, you, Joel and Tommy must have somewhat reasonable hands, you’d put that they’d both have some royalty after seeing the community being shown. James probably thinks he has the best hand. You wouldn’t walk away without a fight tonight.

“What’s it like in New York City, I’ve never been.” You slip on your drink, letting the warmth of the alcohol spread across your body. You could practically feel the heat radiating off of Joel's body, you would do anything to be alone with him.

“It’s fun, it's a big city, so much to do, so many different cultures, definitely better than farm field Texas.” He replies. “The night life there is a whole different world.”

“Better than here?”

“Darlin, what happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas.” He says.

You shuddered in your seat, rearranging your legs to burn the heat in your lower abdomen.

“We got some strippers last night, best night of my life.” James stammers.

Of course you did.

“You did dipshit, not us you fuckin pig.” Tommy reprimands.

It’s the turn round, Marg flips the fourth community card, 7 of Clubs.

Half the deck is still left, 4 on the table, 4 discarded with William and Tyler, 8 between the rest of you 4. All the 2’s must have been in the deck, a chance of Tommy having a 7, Tyler or William could’ve had 8s, leaving James and Joel with Kings.

Tommy keeps James busy, as Tyler and William are talking to Marg.

“How old are you honey?” Joel pips up, letting the smoke fog away from his mouth.

“I’m 24.”

He hums, “Just turned 40 this past month, feels weird but I guess it’s the prime age.”

“40’s perfect for a man, emotionally mature, physically at his best, life already put together. Don’t you agree?” You stare.

He ticks his jaw, peering into your soul, “I agree with you sugar, you can already read me like an open book.”

“Married?” Please say no.

He gets closer to you, “Divorced, but don’t tell the town I’m a divorced old fox.” He smiles.

“Why?”

“We both weren’t happy, it was a mistake to start with, our parents liked us for each other but our first night after being married we both knew it wasn’t going to work. After a year we separated and secretly got divorced. Parents freaked out but they’re dead now.” He shrugged.

You move sideways in your chair, moving your head to the side to study him, “I’m sorry, that must’ve been hard. Love is hard, finding people is hard. But I’m glad you’re out of it.”

“Ah darlin, long time ago but thank you.” He shucks a smile and his teeth were pearly white, he was perfect. No fault about him yet, and you hoped you wouldn’t find one. “Are you busy after this?” His eyes glare at you.

You glare at him, “No…I can be.”

“Good.” He hums.

“Ok 150$” James puts in his chips.

“I gotta fold man, can’t risk this.” Tommy holds up his wallet.

“150$.” Joel shoves in his chips.

Your turn.

“150$.” You follow.

“River round everyone.” Marg cheers. She eyes you, can you do this?

Yes. You blink.

She flips the last community card, 8 of Clubs.

“What about you? Married? Relationships?” Joel shifts.

“Single, I’m not the dating type. Never have been. She is though.” You point at Margret.

She puts her hands up in shock, playing along with you. “In High School I wasn't really the boys type. I wouldn’t do anything for them if you catch my drift.”

“Well sugar those are high school boys, boys then are always mean. Some still are now.” He hums looking toward James. “They’re cruel, and demeaning, fathers never teachin them right.” With his free hand he dances it around yours, delicately touching your fingers.

“Were you taught right?”

“I don’t think so, but I learned.” He clears his throat.

“Our dad was in the war when we were growin up, so we had our Ma and each other.” Tommy informs.

Now it makes sense.

“I’m gonna raise it to 200$.” James riggles his eyebrows, staring at you.

“I’ll fold, it’s been a good game.” Joel slumps back into his chair.

Just you and James now.

“200$, all in.” You grin, your breath slows.

All you can think about is Joel, he’s in your peripheral vision. All you can think about is how he looked walking down the hallway. How meticulous he’s been with his questions and answers. What his life has been like. His hands. His hair, his umber hair. You race your mind trying to think if you’ve ever seen him before, where has this man come from?

You swore off men from the hotel, only money. But he must be an exception, you have to let yourself have him. Your brain could turn off for one night.

“You think you can do this pretty girl?” Joel whispers, pretty girl.

You nod your head, putting out your cigarette and leaning closer to the table.

Joel places his hand on your thigh, giving you a squeeze of reassurance.

Fuck, if you stood up you could see a ring of wetness with your black dress, you knew it.

“Ok flip your cards.”

James goes first, he has 10 Hearts and 9 Spades.

“7 club, 8 club, 9 spades, 10 hearts and Jack hearts… there's a straight honey.”

You chuckle, you couldn’t believe he thought that was good enough. You thought he had cards like you but…

“10 of Diamonds, Jack of Diamonds, Queen of Diamonds, King of Diamonds, and Ace of Diamonds,” You pause, “Royal flush.” You pop.

His face loses all color, and Joel gets out of his seat cheering for you. Marg starts yelling and Joel picks you up, not believing what his eyes had seen. His hands lay above your ass, holding your waist in the most comfortable position.

“That’s my girl, “Joel whispers in your ear.

“A girl beat you James, what are you gonna do about it? Whimper you little cry baby.” Tommy teases.

Joel sets you down and you take a snapshot with your head, how tall he really is against you, you beating this whole group of men, Margaret screaming of joy for you. She pushes all the chips towards you, way over 1000$.

“Well boys, that was a good game,” You seductively smile, “How ‘bout another?”

They groan, sitting there in defeat.

“I’m gonna go to the club, if you boys wanna join. Don’t bring the bitch with you.” James huffs.

You look at him with disgust and Joel grabs his suit jacket, pulling him back.

“What’d you call her?”

“A fuckin bit-.”

“Okay guys break it up, James fuckin leave man. You’re too drunk for a club.” Tommy gets up with William and Tyler, hauling James with them. Joel stays back looking at the table with you and Marg.

“I’ll go uh cash this in for you, call me later?” Marg asks.

You nod your head, mentally thanking her that she’s leaving you with him, you have the feeling he couldn’t be much worse than James, but much better.

“I’m sorry Darlin for him, he’s always been a pain in the ass. M’boss thinks he’s a great addition to the team but he’s gonna get locked up one day.” He growls.

You grab your things, “It’s okay Joel, I’m used to it. Happens a lot around here, told you I was trouble.” You smile.

“You’re gorgeous, but you could never be in trouble.” He holds his breath, not knowing how to continue with you, but you for sure would be busy with him all night.

“Walk with me?” You give him your hand. He follows you like a lost puppy.

“I barely know you Joel but I trust you, what do you do with a woman's trust?”

He laughs, “You harbor it, caress it. Take care of her trust. You listen to her, do as you're told.”

“Hm, good.” You walk ahead of him, hand in hand, praying he’s looking at your ass. Swaying your hips in your dress. A male's gaze never feeling this good before. You’re in a quieter area of the Casino, jazz band farther away, out of the poker room near the concierge.

“What does Joel do in his free time?”

“Well, study on cases, he works out, he eats well, travels.”

“Typical.” You giggle,

“What do you do in your free time?” He asks.

“You won't laugh?”

“I invent math.”

“What?”

“Well earlier I was playing with you with my friend, we do kinda work for each other, but I invent theoretical math.” You confirm. “I guess in my free time.”

He stops in his tracks, holding onto you, staring.

“What?”

“I don’t know, I didn’t know that was a thing.” He huffs.

“Who do you work for? Mr Corporate Litigator?”

“Miller law firm.”

You stop in your tracks, “That’s right,” You tut, “I knew it, you’re Joel Miller. I’ve seen you in a newspaper before.”

“You have?”

“I have, I recall you win a lot.” You play with him.

“I do, I win everything darlin.” He hums.

You’re near the elevators of the hotel, practically begging him to bring you up, risking every moral you have in your bones.

“How long are you in town, Joel Miller?” You groan into his chest, your boobs press up against him, his hand slips over your ass.

“Only for tonight, I leave late afternoon tomorrow.”

The elevator dings, he walks in leaving you there, his eyes are dark. He looks helpless and his hair is distressed, every instinct in your body pushes you forward into the car. The door closes, and you practically hear colors.

He turns you around smashing his lips on yours.

You can’t breathe, he's moving so fast, his mouth is intoxicating, your mind is not able to comprehend that his hands are wrapping around your face, pulling for more. The cold of his rings cause goosebumps to crinkle on your back.

“Fuck, floor 36.” He pushes it and resumes, your lipstick is all over his face, but he doesn’t care. His tongue dances with yours, he’s spilling into you.

You break from him, “You’re not scared that I’m younger?” He holds you.

“No, you’re not scared that I’m ancient?”

“You’re not ancient, you’re fucking hot.” You moan into him, kissing his face, moving to his neck. His breathing changes, you have him backed against the elevator, he’s holding onto the railing for support.

You pray no one has to walk in, you only want this moment with him. The elevator dings and needs a card activation before opening, he slips it out of his wallet, and the doors open to a whole suite.

You continue to kiss, he pulls you into the room, illuminating every part of the room. You drop your coat and purse, he chucks his suit jacket on the floor. You stumble to the couch, you both sit, eating eachother alive. His hands lay atop your hips and the weight of his rings are making you shiver.

He drops to your neck and collar bone, exploring your chest. Your dress was cut low enough that he could kiss and suck every part that he wanted.

You weave your hands through his hair, lowering yourself on the fabric.

“Wait, wait. Pretty girl, I wanna go slow. I don’t want this to be a sleazy one night stand.” He pulls back.

“I mean it technically is,” You groan.

“It doesn’t have to be,“ He leans on his couch, shifting to kiss you, “I don’t want this to be my first and only time with you.”

Your heart palpitates, you’ve never had anyone truly want to be with you. He was lustful right now, but you could tell he meant it.

“If you don’t want that then I respect that but I just met you and I-���

You shut him up by kissing him, shifting your tongue to fill every crevice of his face. You pull him on top of you, squeezing him to your body so he can squish you. You want his weight on you, you want his body to be warm and free.

“If you fuck me tonight Joel… I may just have to follow you to New York tomorrow.” You moan.

“First class tickets bought immediately in the morning then.” He rasps.

You flip and immediately switch him to go under you so you’re free straddling his lap. He laughs, holding on to your hips and your dress folds up to your stomach, showing your red underwear.

You grab his hand, slipping his fingers into your mouth, he watches darkly.You moan around his hand, feeling the weight of it all in you, praising his body.

You soak his rings, saliva coating them and you slip them off with your teeth, letting them drop on his chest. His eyes switch everytime you move. You manage to keep eye contact with him until you start grinding on him. The moment you lose all sense of self-control and let spit fall out of the sides of your mouth, not caring if it slides down your face.

You can feel him growing against you, his dress pants becoming tighter as you move your hips. The last ring comes off and his fingers are bare, you wipe your mouth and move your dress higher so his hands can go under the fabric.

He breathes, “You’re beautiful, most beautiful human I’ve seen. Most beautiful woman I’ve met.”

Your heart swells, tears almost at hand. But it’s the first night, he can’t really mean it.

Sex haze fills your brain and you grab the bottom of your dress to pull it off of you, leaving you only in your underwear. You didn’t wear a bra due to the low back, and you couldn’t have cared less.

His jaw drops, and the cold air of his breath hits your nipples, willowing them into peaks. He brushes his fingers past them, gently grabbing them. He almost tickles them, but his touch. Only his touch has made you this hard, this warm.

“Joel, feels so good… so soft.”

“Melt with me baby, so soft and beautiful. I could have you for years.”

The more he talked, the more heaven made sense to you. Strings of music played in your head welcoming you to the land of being complete.

“Fuck me Joel, fuck me like we’ve known eachother for years, don’t hold back. Please.” You stammer.

“Are you sure?” He pushes your hair behind your ear, “We go on your terms, baby.”

“I’m sure.” You confirm, “I want nothing more than this Joel, I want you. I want more in life. You.”

You softly unbutton his shirt, revealing his body, revealing every scar, every hair, every stretch mark. You were going to cherish him like you’ve known him you’re entire life. You shove his shirt down his arms, he admires you with no words, only hums. He sits up.

“Here? Or bed? Or anywhere?”

“Take me to bed.” You plead.

He picks you up, hoisting you to his chest, grabbing your ass to keep you next to him. You get to capture the whole room with your head, and it's the most expensive and nice place you’ve been. He opens the door to the bedroom, the drapes open, the bed frame designed as with wispy pillars. Decor reminding your of Italia Bohemia, he’s really fucking rich. He goes to close the curtains.

“Don’t.” You whisper. “Fuck me here for the world to watch.”

He sets you down, continuously making eye contact with you. He drops to his knees letting you lean against the glass of the window, the stars behind you and the lights of Vegas getting the best view of your ass.

“First,” He kisses your leg, “I want to do something.”

You were scared, usually when you had sex you’d go straight into fucking, and you had enjoyed it. But this, this was different.

He parts your legs, using the backs of his hands to part your legs, you know the ring of your juices have soaked the fabric covering you. He brushes his fingers over your covered entrance, over your throbbing clit. You shudder at his boldness, at his bravery for touching you before you touched him.

“Feel’s good?”

You nod your head, at a loss for words.

“Can I take these off?”

You nod, his fingers pull at the sides of your underwear leaving you bare in front of him, your heart rate pounding, scared he won’t like what he has in front of him. This was always the scariest part. You hold your breath, if he left right now you wouldn’t even cry, it felt too good to be real. You had hair, it was a thing to shave but you decided to keep what you were given. You didn’t care about being bald since you never were fucked anyways. Who cared, because you didn’t? Men were never the object to attract, if they didn’t like what you had, then they don’t deserve what you can offer.

He drops your underwear, helping you step out of them and you can only see his eyes as he stares at your pussy, eyeline with your bottom half. He observes you, refreshens you.

“A real true, beautiful fuckin woman baby.” He slurs, “This fucking pussy is perfect… look at ya.” His hands wander your lower abdomen, following up to your boobs again. You picture his hair, the exact shade of brown to remember. Your favorite color, the ruffles on his scalp. He could’ve never guessed about your memory, but this would be with you forever.

“Can I taste?” He asks.

You nod again, he shoves his tongue into you, licking a long wide stripe on your pussy lips, lingering to gather your slick. He takes a second to soak it in.

“And that was all for me darlin? I’m a fucking lucky man.” He growls.

He shoves his tongue back inside you, moaning at the sensation of this. He’s eating you out and he’s okay with it? It feels so good you can’t control your arms, you grab onto his head, relishing in the newness of it all.

“Joel…what is this… why does it feel.. So… so fucking good?”

“Good.” He pops off from your cunt, “When it feels too good pull harder.”

He instantly shoves his face again in your cunt, lapping at your pussy. The more he sucks on you, inside and out, the more liquid keeps oozing outside of you. Your stomach almost giving out from the heat your body is radiating.

“So fucking wet, so sweet, sweetest thing alive. Crafted just f’me.” He mutters into you. “You’re just human to me, the most perfect one alive.”

You’re practically moaning uncontrollably, his words mixed with his devil tongue has the world crashing down on you, the world from below able to slightly see him tongue fucking you into oblivion.

“Can I touch you..” He pulls his hand to your nub, exactly where you would rub. Another place you’ve had to show a man, never knowing the exact pressure point that would make you scream. “Here?”

“God… how did you… already feels…feels like… fire.”

He kisses your mound, moving slightly above your stomach, “Because… I’m quite older than you…” He kisses, “And I’ve learned….” His index finger lays on your clit, then fastens his pace drawing circles.

Never in your life has a man done this to you, never have you had this light of intimacy. As he circles your clit, he places his tongue back at your entrance. Your pussy is practically coaxing his tongue to breach you.

“Fuck!” You scream, tightening your hold on his hair, you can feel sweat accumulating between your back and the window.

“Louder, be fucking lounder.” He gasps for air.

“Joel… keep going please…. Pleaspleaspleas…” You mewl. And he switches to sucking your clit and shoving his fingers inside you. It was a new sensation, your gasps sound animalistic, begging for air to relieve your lungs. His fingers are reaching depths you haven’t felt in years. Being stimulated in two areas made your stomach fluctuate.

“You like that pretty girl, soaking my fingers, dripping all down my arm… look at you.” He mutters.

You look down, and see him. The glow of the moonlight reflecting on his sweaty hairline, the smile spread across Joel's face, the slightest of dimples. He’s bent on the floor to make sure you cum first, your back arched.

You could feel yourself leaking out on him and it made you give out, not able to stand anymore but his weight keeps you up.

Your atomic brain couldn’t keep up, couldn’t take enough mental shots, but you knew this would be with your forever. He kept going faster, and finally a peak was hit, eventually getting higher and higher until the mountain itself avalanches into beautiful boulders.

“I’m fucking cumming… fuck. Joel your fucking fingers!” You scream.

“See those eyes, pretty girl, cummin all over me like such a good girl, keep going.”

Eventually you had to slide down the window, Joel not able to keep up your dead weight. No atom in your body is able to process what happened.

“Joel…” You huff, “If that was… fuck… then how will I handle your-”

“We go slow, and build up to the pace of your liking.” He answers.

“I told you,” You breathe against his chest, “I don’t want slow. I want to be fucked.”

He looks into your eyes, he cups your pussy. Rubbing off the remnants of your orgasm. Extremely fresh.

“Then get on the fucking bed. Go.” He growls.

You do as you’re told. Excited with his change of tone. You lay back on the fresh bed, the sheets made and you spread your legs for him. You can hear your leaking pussy make a sound and he smirks.

He unties his dress shoes, throwing them into an abyss, unbuttons his dress pants. Leaving him in his boxers. This was the moment.

He pulls his hands at the hem, and you choke on your breath.

He drops them, and fuck. At least 7 inches drops in weight. You could feel him the entire time, but fuck he was wide. He was hairy too. His whole body made you feel comfortable. His veins. His beading tip with pre-cum. His cock was your most prized possession at this moment. Your eyes already felt heavy, you knew his cock would reach a world inside you, that no one could explain.

“Like what you see, smart girl?”

“Do I like what I see?” You repeat.

“Yeah, I see those eyes. Remembering everything. Analyzing. Very, very smart girl. You don’t have to tell me now, but you’re something.”

“So you know?” You whisper. He comes closer to you, fitting himself between your legs.

“Knew once you won the game, I watched your eyes. Invents math. Too smart for your own good. That head of yours is gonna kill me darlin.” He grabs his dick, tapping it on your clit. You seethe through your teeth, then he slides his cock down to your lips. Teasing you, but not giving in just yet.

“You don't know anything about me Joel.” You tease.

“I know enough, pretty girl.” He grunts. He leaves you, a cold draft hitting your lips. He rumages for a condom in his wallet.

“Always this prepared?” You nod your head.

“Wouldn’t be smart to cum in this sweet pussy the first night now would it?”

“Maybe… maybe not.” You drag.

He chuckles, slipping the condom onto himself. He’s purely oozing pre-cum. You wish you could lick it all up, drink every last drop of him. Watching every move, he comes closer to you rubbing his ick at your entrance again and slipping himself inside you, hefting his big thumb to your clit, rubbing your nub into insanity.

“Gonna cum on my cock baby? Gonna get cock crazy? Get obsessed with my fillin you up? Fuckin tell me how it feels.”

He reaches the end of you and pulls out, stretching to the brink of space in your cunt. He was so big you thought he wouldn’t fit. Then he goes over and over again, hitting you at a different angle every time.

“Joel, you’re… so fuckin…. Feels so good.” You squeal. “Biggest cock I’ve ever felt.”

“Fuckkk baby girl, pussy so warm. Gonna kill me.” He groans. His weight on top of you felt heart shattering, he leaned down to kiss you, his mustache still wet from eating you out alive.

You cry, the pressure of his dick so new, your stomach completely full. “It’s fuckin your cock now.”

You mewl, your cock. Yours. “Faster Joel… fuck my pussy, ruin me.” You plead. The faster he goes, the better your pussy will bottom out. He rubs your clit faster, his hand feeling like the sentence of god.

“I saw you across the casino, and instantly knew.” He thrusts, placing his hands on your nipples. Pinching them harder, “Magnetized to you. Such a fuckin pretty girl, knowin how to win poker.”

“And when I won?” You groan, peering into his hooded eyes. You place your hands on top of his knuckles. “Did that turn you on?”

“When you won,” He slows, “I fell in love sweetheart.” He cusps your dropped jaw with a deep kiss and he quickens. Your legs wrap around his back and he fucks into again, and again.

You scream at his pace, unable to reprimand his cock dividing you into two. He hits a spot, a spongy spot inside you.

“Joel… fuckfucfuck I’m gonna cum Joel… it’s too much!” You scream.

Immediately he pulls out and unwraps your legs, flipping you over on all fours and pussy sprayed out for him clear as day. He fucks into you again, doggy style. He pushes his hand down on your back to make your stomach flat with the bed.

“Your pussy’s so pretty and open for me. My perfect girl. Whole life I’ve needed you.” He whimpers. You could feel his growing harder and harder inside of you, draining the life out of him.

You grab a hold of the sheets, your brain plummeting, “Just a Vegas pussy, just a… fuck.. A whore… for you Joel.” You cry.

“Not a Vegas whore y’hear?” He growls, “Could never be a fuckin whore… but this pussy will always be fuckin mine. Are we clear?”

You nod your head for him to know you understand, he grabs whatever his hands could hold, ass bouncing on his dick. His fingers slipped to your love handles, feeling your pussy lips sliding on and off him like a glove. His cock was fucking into you for an ecstasy you couldn’t fathom.

You never thought sex could feel this good with a man, but here you are… about to explode from Joel’s dick. You don’t care if he didn’t see you as a whore. You were beyond greatfil he saw you beyond that, but you would be his fucking Vegas whore a million times over.

“Gonna cum baby? Gonna cum if I play with your fuckin clit and fuck you?” He mewls.

He slithers his hand under you both, rubbing your clit, and that’s when it hits you. Not only the double stimulation, but being full and being played with killed your insides, you were tightening up and you couldn't tell how much longer you could last, for real this time. You were always oozing, and globs of liquid were flowing out of you.

“Joel… my stomach…I’m gonna pee.” You wail, but he doesn’t stop, he’s not scared to see what comes outside of you.

“C’mon pretty girl give it to me… show me how good I make you feel. Make it fuckin rain.” He slams harder.

“Mmhm Joel… I can’t… fuck..”

In almost a miracle you had time to pull off of him and let a stream fall from your cunt, exploding of water onto the bed and all over his stomach, he bent down to drink it. He collected it in his mouth, then spit it back at your pussy, continuing to lick you off. You were so tired, moaning like a tired athlete, screaming to get your breath back.

“If you do that again… you’ll kill me Joel.” You crouch on the bed like a cockroach. He moans in confirmation to your pussy, squirming from the aftershocks and his soft tongue… licking you to normalcy. Cleaning what’s his. He peers up your back to kiss you, laying on top, finding his way to your lips.

“Have you ever done that before?” He asks.

“No, I can’t describe it but it felt like I couldn’t control it. My stomach was imploding on itself. I’m sorry I got you wet” You whisper.

He kisses your neck, “That was the most beautiful thing I’ve seen, and I did that to you? I would watch you soak my cock over and over again if I could… takes a lot of power from what I can tell.” He says.

“I know,” You wriggle your ass, “I told you… I like it fuckin rough and fast, and here you are. Giving me exactly what I want.” You could feel his covered cock laying on your back, still hard.

“What about you, we didn’t-”

“Shhh baby girl.. Tonight wasn’t about me… this was your prize for winning.” He chuckles. “For that brain of your’s for being so smart.”

“Fuck Joel.” You shiver, “Don’t let it end.”

--------

9:46

You wake up, looking at the slide cock, you were still in his bed, he was getting dressed again. When he sees you’re awake he rushes to you, giving a kiss.

“When you fell asleep, I booked your ticket. Hope you’re still okay with that.”

Now you’re fully awake, reliving the whole night and realizing what you’ve committed to. Not only a commitment but something you’ve been searching for your entire life, a man that has made you feel more than what it’s like to be a woman in the 80’s. Last night, you were his equal. He cared after you, cared more about you feeling the interlinked connection of your orgasm than his. His words coaxing your orgasm first. He was the only man you needed.

“Do you have any clothes I could possibly wear for the flight?” You smile, looking into his honey abyss.

“I’ll call my assistant and have a closet ready for you when we get there.” He replies.

You scurry from the bedsheets, letting the duvet fall from your tits.

“Well Joel… then New York, here we come.” And he captured your lips, not only that but your heart and life in a sum of 12 hours.

——

so i don’t know how to play poker, tried my best to watch video and figure out basic logistics of a game but like this royal flush would probably be one a mil to get, but it’s a one shot so like…… this is the longest thing i’ve written and i’m pretty fuckin proud of it. BE LOUD TELL ALL THOUGHTS!! love you all🎀🎀

barbenheimer weekend was amazing. i’ve seen them both 3 times in theatres. worth every damn penny.

[sarahworm]

I find Louisa a fun character to think about because the way her character connects to her referenced work is less literal/obvious than some of the other Americans. Which is probably inevitable, given what kind of story Little Women is - but it's interesting how Asagiri went about it. slapping a readmore here because this got long.

One character detail that I noticed recently is at the start of the Fitzgerald Rising arc, when Louisa is looking for him in the slums - she starts that chapter with a narration/voice over where she's writing a letter to her parents. That, I think, is a deliberate echo of one of the epistolary sections of Little Women, which is when Jo is writing to her family from New York City. What really makes this a clear reference for me is that both characters are at somewhat of a low point (for Louisa the collapse of the Guild/Francis' disappearance, and for Jo it's a need to get away for a bit to deal with anxieties around Laurie and Beth).

It's noteworthy to me that this is one of the more specific Little Women references we get with Louisa, because it connects to the part of that book that is most about Jo as a writer (and as an adult trying to be a writer, rather than as a teenager - I think it's easily the most discussion of her writing after the timeskip). That's appropriate for BSD, of course, but also regarding what @kaurwreck said about Louisa and Little Women's themes of companionship, sincerity, and fulfillment: the New York chapters feature Jo trying to figure out who she is, who she wants to be, and how that ties in with writing she is/isn't doing - and calibrating that against the people she's socializing with (and Bhear in particular, of course).

Jo March writes alone in a literal sense, she likes a private space - but honestly, a lot of Jo's writing in the book has very much to do with other people! Two bits from early in the book that I always adored as a kid (probably because I did quite literally both of these exact same things, lol) are the mock newsletter for the literary society that all four of the girls participate in, and the play she writes that they put on.

And, I know Jo's ending is a Whole Thing that people have dealt with and discoursed about in various different ways (see: the 2019 movie). Jo, of course, doesn't end up a professional writer, but there are two pieces where her writing comes back up near the end of the story. One is that she is reunited with Bhaer through a poem she published that is about her sisters and how the four of them grew up; another is at the very end, when they are reflecting on the castles in the air they made when they were younger, and Jo says:

"The life I wanted then seems selfish, lonely, and cold to me now. I haven't given up the hope that I may write a good book yet, but I can wait, and I'm sure it will be all the better for such experiences and illustrations as these."

I like to think that Jo does write a novel someday, but ultimately that's beside the point. The point is that she recognizes now that if she does, it'll be rooted in and because of the people and community around her.

ANYWAY BACK TO BSD

In the grounding she gives Francis and how frank she is able to be with him, both in terms of reminding him of his abilities and being open about what she needs from him to succeed in using her own, Louisa is more self-assured and more self-actualized than Jo is in the New York chapters that that arc of the manga/anime directly references. It's not, like, a direct retelling of Little Women by any stretch, but it is a reflection on the themes of that story and, particularly, where Jo grew to be over the course of it. Which makes sense with how the American characters tend to represent their most famous literary characters & the themes that those characters exhibit rather than the irl authors.

I recently attended a conference on Virginia Woolf's A Room of One's Own and ever since I haven't been able to stop thinking about how much more fitting to bsd Alcott's ability the essay is, to the point I've started suspecting Alcott's true identity is actually Virginia Woolf.

[goosecastle41]

Anything For You, Doll

A little story inspired by @sims-fanatic-and-sprats-enjoyer for the coalecroux kid au, please enjoy

“Papa! What’s taking so long?!”

Gideon isn’t sure what’s worse here. The whines of a child, or what the child is asking him to do.

“Well-! I just-...! It’s not as easy as you think it is, Seren!” Gideon flounders, pulling his hands back from his daughters head. The needle Gideon had sterilized with his fire is pinched between his fingers, though to him it feels like a sword his daughter has asked him to run through her eat.

Seren, sweet little Seren, has gotten the idea of earrings into her head. She had seen many people before with dangly jewelry hanging from their ears in her eight years of life and had been fascinated each time. The way the gold or silver hangs from little holes in their ears, the way the gems or jewels would catch the suns light and make them sparkle, the beautiful or simple design of different peoples earrings. All of it just fascinated Seren.

For months, Seren has been green with envy at the sight of earrings. Seeing older women with beautiful and intricate gold wrapped around bright gems. Seeing men with silver rings going through their lobes or the cartilage. She’s even met some children with ear rings! And they’re all so pretty! Seren has been a fan of beautiful and shiny things her entire life, and the thought that she’s missing out on a facet of being shiny and pretty is devastating to her.

So, when Seren had dragged Gideon and Kremy over to a case of jewelry while in a shop a few days back, stars shining in her eyes as she points to a set of earrings, all Kremy could do was sigh and pull out his coin purse.

In the moment, Gideon had thought it was devastatingly adorable how excited Seren had gotten. She practically squealed as she tackle hugged Kremy’s legs while saying thank you a million times. Kremy’s gotten a lot better at letting Seren touch and hug him, seeing as he gives her a (still slightly awkward) hug back with a “Anything for you, doll.”

It was annoyingly cute how she took the earrings from the shop keep and held them like they were the most precious possessions Seren has ever owned. A set of silver earrings that dangle from small chains, a ruby wrapped in the center of the silver, shining brightly in the light. Seren held the box they came in out in her palms, staring at it almost the whole walk back to the inn.

But nothing about this situation is cute anymore, Gideon has decided.

The day before they decided to leave the town and head on to their next adventure- I.E. another con- Seren had come up to Gideon holding her new earrings and had asked the fated question.

“Would you pierce my ears and put these in for me?”

And so here they are, almost an hour after Seren had initially asked the question. She sits on a chair in their Inn room, her feet kicking impatiently as she almost glares up at Gideon. “It can’t be that hard!” She gripes, causing Gideon to scoff.

“Then why don’t you do it yourself if it ain’t that hard?” He asks, getting a loud groan from his daughter.

“‘Cause I can’t see in the mirror with my hands in the way! Uhg! This is taking forever!” She cries, kicking her feet harder before she falls limp in the chair, boneless. Gideon almost wants to throw a tantrum as well.

“Look, sweetheart, I’m sorry, alright?” He says instead, deciding to be the adult in this situation, “But.. Your ears are just.. They’re too small for me, alright? Maybe you just gotta grow some more.” Being the adult apparently means making up lame excuses because the thought of hurting his daughter makes him nauseous, Gideon thinks.

Gideon has never struggled with the idea of hurting something before. Sure, maybe he doesn’t want to hurt things sometimes, but he’s never felt physically sick because of it. His hands had never wavered before, never shaken before he delivered pain and agony to his target… But Gideons never had a daughter before. Gideons never had something that flipped his whole world upside down and then righted it again by calling him Papa. Gideons never tried to hurt something so precious to him before.

Instead of escalating her tantrum, Seren slumps further in her seat with defeat. Frustrated tears well in her eyes, bringing her hands up to wipe at them before they could begin to fall. “Okay…” She says, voice tight and devastated.

“Oh for gods sake!”

Gideon looks over to where Kremy had been sat and counting his coin at the table in the room. He watches as Kremy rises from his own chair, coin forgotten as he rubs a hand over his face and approaches Gideon and Seren.

“Gimmie that! You big god damn baby…” Kremy snaps as he snatches the needle from Gideons fingers. “Lemme show you how it’s done.”

At that, the complete devastation on Seren’s face wipes away immediately. She breaks into a smile, looking up at Kremy with unabashed excitement as she sits up in the chair again.

Gideon thinks he had been hiding his nerves well while he was the one holding the needle, but the moment it’s in Kremy’s hand, Gideons composure fully breaks.

“Hey, be careful, man.” He says quickly, fighting off the urge to grab the needle back and call off the whole thing. His face gives way to his nerves almost immediately, his eyebrows knitting together and a grimace working its way to his lips.

It’s not as if Gideon doesn’t trust Kremy. That’s not the case at all. Gideon would trust Kremy with his entire being and soul after how long they’ve been traveling and practically raising a kid together. He trusts Kremy more than he trusts himself. But just the thought of Seren being hurt-

“Hush.” Kremy says as he points a clawed finger at Gideon, cutting off his train of thought. All Gideon can do then is nod, lips pursing together. He trusts Kremy.. He trusts Kremy more than himself.

“Now. You know this is gonna hurt, right?” Kremy asks as he turns back to Seren, kneeling in front of her.

Seren, who had been warned by Gideon time and time and time again about how it will hurt, rolls her eyes at Kremy, some of her excitement washing away and quickly replaced by an annoyed worry that Kremy will be just as bad as Gideon. “Duh.” She says hotly, giving more of an attitude than she had meant in her annoyed state.

Kremy’s eyes squint as he points that same clawed finger at her, “Do. Not.” He says, his tone stern and no nonsense, “I’m sick of it. I’m sick of the whining and the attitude. I’m helpin’ ya out. Act like I’m doin’ somethin’ nice for ya.” Kremy admonishes her, his annoyance finally reaching its peak.

Seren immediately drops again, her eyes downcast and her shoulders slumped. “Sorry, Kremy.. Thank you for helping me out…” She says, her hands moving into her lap and fiddling with her fingers. Kremy sighs, finally falling to the other side of that peak.

“Gid, gimmie the earrings.” Kremy says, softening up his tone then.

Gideon can’t even really be annoyed at Kremy as he pulls the box out of his pocket. Gideon understands how overstimulated Kremy can get sometimes. Seren is a loud and excitable child and Gideon can be just as excitable if he isn’t careful. Kremy can’t always exactly help it when he snaps, just like Seren can’t help that she’s a child who hasn’t exactly learned to control her volume yet.

Gideon thinks about how far Kremy has come in little over a year with Seren. Kremy used to be unable to go ten minutes with Seren’s boisterous chatter when she was overly excited, and now Kremy went a whole hour of their annoying antics before he snapped. Gideon can’t be annoyed with Kremy after he’s made such strides in his progress.

Gideon places the earring box on the table and watches how Kremy turns back to Seren once more.

“Ser..” Kremy says, his tone softening up a even more, “Ser, look at me sweetie.”

Seren looks up again, hope in her eyes. Kremy reaches forward with his free hand and takes her earlobe in his fingers. The other hand with the needle comes into her view and her eyes snap towards it, now going wide. Her shoulders tense, her mouth parting slightly in worry-

“Look at me, doll, not the needle.” Kremy says, getting Seren’s eyes back on his face. “Say… I don’t really remember what those earrings looked like.” He says after a moment.

Seren’s eyebrows knit together. “How could you forget, Kremy? They’s the prettiest earrings ever. They’re silver and got- OW!” She yelps, almost jerking her head back, but Kremy’s steady and gentle hands keep her in place.

Gideon nearly leaps through the fucking ceiling. Her pained cry wrenches his heart and makes his skin crawl. Gideon is more than sure if it wasn’t Kremy doing this, he’d have killed the person making his daughter cry like that in an instant. Instead, his hands clench at his sides, jaw tightening as he watches the scene in front of him.

“Take a deep breath doll.” He says quickly, “They’re silver? What else do they look like?” Kremy goes on as he distracts her, moving quickly as he pulls said earring from the box before slipping it through the needle hole.

Tears pool in Seren’s eyes, her lip quivering, “Sil-Silver with-with red g-gems…” She goes on, fighting back her tears and trying to stay strong. Her eyes flick to the needle again as it goes for her second ear, but without prompting she quickly fixes her eyes back onto Kremy’s face. “They-They’re pre-pretty and, and dangly and- ow! Ow!” She again cries out, but softer this time, knowing to expect the pain and what it feels like. She again tries to get away from Kremy but his hands keep her steady once more.

“There. Just about done babydoll. You’re almost finished, okay? You’re doin’ great.” Kremy’s voice is sweet and kind, hands gentle as he slips the second earring into its hole. “And done! All done!”

Kremy rests a hand on the side of Seren’s face gently, his scales smooth and almost cold on her skin as she leans into the touch. He turns her head to the side a bit before turning it the other way, a smile breaking onto his face. “Now look at you! Now ya got real sparkles on ya, princess.”

Kremy takes his hand back and stuffs it into his suit jacket pocket before pulling out his compact mirror. He flips it open before turning it to Seren.

Seren’s eyes sparkle with unshed tears and wonderment as she looks at herself in the little mirror. She reaches out slightly shaky hands and takes it for a better look. She turns her head side to side, eyeing the way the earrings swish back and forth, enjoying the slight tickle on her face where they brush up against her when she moves. A few tears roll down her cheeks as she grins brighter than the sun.

“I look so pretty.” She says, kicking her feet lightly. “They tickle!” She goes on, turning her head side to side quickly, the earrings flopping haphazardly. Kremy can’t help but to laugh a bit, reaching forward and grabbing the top of her head to stop her.

“Don’t do that. They’ll fly out and you’ll lose em.” He warns her, making her eyes blow wide and reach up to touch the earrings to make sure they’re secure. Kremy drops his hand from the top of her head, wiping the tears from his face before he stands up.

“Welp. Was it worth it, kid?” Kremy asks, watching as she hops up out of her chair. She claps the compact mirror closed and holds it up to Kremy,

“Yeah! Really worth it! Thank you so much Kremy!” She says, wrapping herself around Kremy in a tight hug after he’d taken the mirror back.

Gideon watches as Kremy barely hesitates to hug her back this time. It’s almost immediately the way Kremy’s arm goes to wrap around her, even pulling her in closer as he does so. Seren fully leans into Kremy, a giant smile overtaking her expression.

A moment later however, Seren pulls back from Kremy before she runs off to the attached bathroom to their inn room to look at herself in the big mirror, another quick, “Thanks Krem!” before she disappears inside.

Kremy watches her go, a look of fondness overtaking him.

“Thanks, pal…” Gideon says, placing a hand on Kremy’s shoulder. From the side, he can see the way Kremy’s expression softens up just a bit more before his own hand moves to rest over Gideons.

“Don’t mention it, Gid.”

————————————

I say little story like this shit isn’t over 2000 words 😭

Also I didn’t beta read this or even put it in Grammarly so I apologize if it’s not written very well. I’m very tired and finished this 30 minutes before I gotta leave the house 😂😭

[likecastle]

ST Femslash Week - 80s gay culture

A little ficlet about 80s gay culture for @strangerthingsfemslashweek, only slightly late!

Content note for a little bit of internalized homophobia/biphobia--nothing super explicit, more anxiety on both Robin and Nancy's part

The first time it happens, Robin bounds up the stairs onto Nancy’s floor and hears the unmistakable strains of Patti Smith. It’s loud enough that she can hear the lyrics distinctly—Oh, she looks so good, oh, she looks so fine, Patti drawls. Well, Robin thinks, one of Nancy’s neighbors has good taste.

As she gets closer to the end of the hall, she realizes the music is coming from Nancy’s apartment. Only it can’t be Nancy, because Nancy’s never expressed anything but the vaguest interest any of the, oh, roughly six million times Robin’s gushed about how cool Patti Smith is. And I got this crazy feeling, Patti croons, that I’m gonna ah-ah make her mine.

When Robin knocks on the door, the music cuts off sharply, and she could swear she hears something crash over inside. A moment later, Nancy comes to the door looking flustered.

“You’re early,” she says irritably.

Robin shrugs and pushes her way into Nancy’s apartment. “They let me out for good behavior.”

On the kitchen table, she can see the cassette case for Horses, fresh out of its cellophane wrapping. Several more tapes are spilling out of a Rose Records bag—Joan Armatrading, Tracy Chapman . . . if her eyes don’t deceive her, the Indigo Girls.

“They got you doing music reviews now?” Robin asks, leaving aside the fact that none of these albums are recent enough to be news, at this point.

Nancy’s cheeks are a wild pink, and she won’t meet Robin’s eye. “Just . . . trying something different.”

It doesn’t escape her notice that these are all albums Robin has talked Nancy’s ear off at one point or another in the past few years. They’re all albums she could have easily borrowed from Robin, if she’d wanted to. But she didn’t. So Robin props a grin on her face and says, “OK. Want to order a pizza?”

*

The second time it happens, Robin turns a corner in Women & Children First to find Nancy studying the back cover of Rubyfruit Jungle with such intensity that she doesn’t even look up when Robin almost runs into her.

“Hey, Nance,” Robin says softly, and Nancy jerks, dropping to book and then almost bashing her head on the shelf when she bends to pick it up.

“Hi,” Nancy says, fingers flexing around the spine of the paperback. “Robin. Hello.”

Robin can’t help grinning. “Howdy.” She gives Nancy a little wiggle of her fingers for good measure. “Sorry I scared you.”

“It’s not—you didn’t—” Nancy is blushing again. It looks good on her, Robin thinks hopelessly. “It’s fine.”

“I hereby offer you a free pass to scare the living daylights out of me at some undisclosed future moment.” She mimes handing over an invisible coupon, and Nancy, apparently too startled to resist her nonsense, pretends to take it, staring down at her empty hand with a bemused half smile.

There’s a knock on the window, and Robin sees her date standing on the sidewalk outside. “Oh, shit, sorry,” she says. “I’m meeting—someone. Gotta go!”

As she dashes out of the shop, she doesn’t think too hard about why she didn’t tell Nancy she was going on a date. She just didn’t want to make Nancy uncomfortable, that’s all.

And later, after her date is long gone, she doesn’t stay up into the early hours of the morning, wondering what it means that Nancy is checking out the lesbian fiction section of Robin’s favorite bookstore.

*

The third time it happens, they’re in Robin’s living room, deciding what movie to watch. Nancy is leaning over the bookshelf where Steve and Robin’s video collection lives, pulling out tapes apparently at random.

“What about this?” Nancy asks, holding out the sky blue box for Desert Hearts.

“Uh,” Robin says, and this time she’s the one who’s blushing, the heat rushing all the way down to her collar bones. “I’m not sure you’re ready for that one.”

“Why not?”

The truth is, Robin’s half afraid Nancy would notice how worn the tape’s gotten, that she’d realize how many times Robin’s watched it over and over. Maybe she’s a little afraid, too, of sharing something that has meant so much to her, only to find it doesn’t mean the same things to Nancy.

“That’s all right,” Nancy says, slipping the box back on the shelf. “I’ve already seen it.”

“You—what? Really?”

Nancy nods, her eyes back on the shelf, half turned away from Robin so that all Robin can see is her delicate profile behind a haze of curls.

“But—why?” Robin blurts out, before she can think better of it.

That gets Nancy to look at her. “Maybe I just wanted to try something different,” she says, and this time it’s not the self-conscious excuse it was in her kitchen. The words are almost defiant, almost a dare, and Robin really doesn’t want to be reading too much into this, but she has to know.

“Is that all it is? Just . . . curiosity?”

“Not . . . just.” Nancy comes over and sits next to Robin on the couch—not at the other end of the couch, like she usually does, but right next to Robin, so that their knees bump when she settles down. “You say that like it’s something trivial, to be curious.”

“For some people it is,” Robin says carefully. “And it’s OK, if that’s all it is, I just . . . don’t think I can help you with that.”

Nancy puts a tentative hand on Robin’s, her eyes so clear and blue this close up. “And if it’s not?”

Robin realizes she’s been holding her breath, and the remedy stings her lungs, almost makes her dizzy. “Well,” she says, “I guess we could find out together.”

[justsome-di]

Nobody Ends Up Dead in a Bathtub, Everyone Keeps Their Organs: Chapter 17

Summary: Alex is an ordinary, highly-introverted office worker. He clocks in and out and goes home to his little apartment he shares with his younger sister. He hasn’t dated in years. Until his co-workers set him up on a blind date.

The only issue is he and his date are not on the same page. At all.

While Alex thinks it’s a normal date, Damián is under the impression Alex is a client who paid to be there. No-so-quickly, they realize something is up. It’s all a prank. Damián is a sex worker Alex’s co-workers hired as a sick joke.

After reassuring that they’re both okay, Alex decides he wants revenge for both him and Damián. The plan is to use the stigma of sex work and start a 6-week, scandalous fake dating scheme with a big finale at the office Halloween party. Alex’s co-workers will be too horrified to try to prank him again. At least, that’s the plan.

“This is Kris and Clara,” Martin said. “The couple friend I mentioned. Guys, this is Marcus and Alex.”

Kris and Clara sat on the couch, glasses of wine already in their hands.

Lesbians.

Huh.

For some reason, Alex hadn’t expected Martin to have gay friends.

“I’m Kris.” She had very short, coily hair that was shaved down at the sides and piled up high on top. She wore a flannel top and chunky combat boots. All Alex could think about was how much Eve would have loved to know where she shopped.

“I’m not Kris.” Clara had longer, blonde hair wrapped up in a bun piled on the top of her head. She wore a short-sleeved button-down top that Alex was 90% sure he also owned. There was a joke there about lesbian and gay man fashion, but Alex would have to think about what it was.

Eve was going to be thrilled that Alex had spent his evening with a married lesbian couple. He was going to have to memorize every single detail about them just in case Eve had a million questions.

“I’m Marcus,” Damián said.

“I’m Alex,” Alex said.

“They’ve told us all about you two,” Kris said.

“Not really,” Martin said. “We really only told them a few things.”

Damián opened his mouth but then quickly closed it. Alex could feel him holding back another harsh comment.

“Thank you for inviting us,” Damián said. And then turning to the women, “It’s very nice to meet you.”

Martin gestured to the sitting area, trying to nudge the awkward greetings to an end.

Alex had never been to a co-worker’s apartment before. Martin and Sam’s place was cute. Larger than his own. There were paintings on the walls and one wedding picture hanging above a short and wide bookcase. There was a framed picture of a cockapoo who, in real life, was currently sitting between Kris and Clara, getting plenty of pets.

Damián must have noticed the dog at the same time as Alex because he let out a coo, “A dog!” and sat on the loveseat across from the lesbians.

“His name is Yam,” Martin said.

“His name is Yam,” Damián cried.

It was like his heart couldn’t take it.

Kris and Clara released Yam and gently nudged him to Damián. Yam jumped down and, eager for attention, trotted up to Damián’s ankles. Ecstatic, Damián picked him up and set him on his lap. Yam’s tail wagged so hard he was almost hitting himself. His backside thrashed around from the force making him lose his balance on his hind legs.

“His name is Yam,” Damián repeated to Alex.

“I heard.” Alex took a seat next to Damián and patted Yam on the head. He narrowly missed getting his hand licked. “I’m more of a cat person.”

“Well, now you can be a cat person and a Yam person.” Damián lifted Yam’s front legs and turned him to Alex. “I think he likes you.”

Yam’s tongue lolled out of his mouth like it was too big to fit inside. He looked at Alex for a few seconds before turning towards his approaching mother.

“He looks indifferent,” Alex said.

“We named him Yam because he looked like a Yam when we rescued him,” Sam said. She scratched the underside of his chin. “He likes to be scratched here.”

“I’m obsessed,” Damián said.

Yam was a light brown, almost orange color. His fur curled up to hide almost all of his face. His eyes and nose were barely visible. If it wasn’t gaping open, Alex wouldn’t be able to see his mouth behind his bushy mustache.

Martin passed two glasses of wine to Alex. He quietly thanked him and tried handing one to Damián. Damián was too distracted by rubbing Yam’s floppy ears to notice, so Alex laid the glass on the end table.

They sat around the living room. Sam sat with the other women, and Martin took the only chair in the room. It was a spacious area. The “sitting room” sat lower than the rest of the apartment, and that simple design made the apartment feel so much more bougie. The step down made the area feel like an actual room.

It could fit way more furniture than Alex could ever dream of having in his own apartment. Maybe it was the advantage of having double income. Or maybe it was just that Martin definitely made more money than him. Either way, Alex was jealous.

“So, Alex,” Kris said. “We know you work with Martin, right?”

“Yeah. I’m the administrative assistant in our office.”

“Ooh. Sounds fancy.”

“It’s just a nice way of saying I’m the secretary.”

“But without him, we would all be late to meetings and not a single fax would be sent,” Martin said, laying it on so thick Alex thought he might need a shovel to dig through it.

“You guys send faxes?” Clara asked. “Are you only allowed to operate like it’s the 90s?”

“They’re more secure than emails, and they don’t violate HIPPA,” Alex said, finally ready to finish the thoughts he had tried telling his co-workers for years. “A lot of medical offices still request them for privacy reasons. And when we deal with patient information, we have to follow the same guidelines.”

“Hmm,” Kris hummed. “I never knew that.”

“Neither did I,” Martin said. “So, better put, Alex also keeps us from getting sued.”

Alex didn’t respond. He only gave Martin a quick glance.

“Marcus, Martin and Sam didn’t tell us what you do,” Clara said.

Without looking up from Yam who was now receiving a great two-hand scratch under his chin, Damián said, “I’m a sex worker.”

Alex held his breath. He cautiously turned to Kris and Clara. Their eyes were wide with surprise. Or maybe awe. It was hard to tell with all the blood rushing from his face.

“That’s genuinely so cool,” Kris said.

Damián shrugged. “It’s just a job. I like working with people, so I found a very people-y career.”

“Right. That’s how I feel. Only with dead people.”

Damián finally looked up from Yam. “Okay. Explain, please.”

“Kris is a curator in a museum,” Clara said. “She likes to make it sound as dramatic as possible.”

“I like the idea of people, but I don’t like being around them.” Kris held up her hands. “Not that I don’t like hanging around you guys.”

It earned her an obligatory laugh.

“I think I get it,” Damián said. “The idea of community is more palatable than going out and seeing people sometimes.”

“Studying how people interact is always less exhausting than actually interacting with people. I don’t lose any social battery this way.”

“I could be around people all day.”

Alex believed it. Damián was thriving sitting on that loveseat, surrounded by five other people and a dog who was begging for more affection.

“What do you like about people?” Damián asked. “Is it how people visit museums to see stuff about other people? Or is it how you can study people who are dead?”

“It’s a bit of both,” Kris said. Her eyes were bright. “When I get to pick up a bowl from a thousand years ago, I think about who else has held it, how it was used for the first time, all that shit. I get to learn about how it was made, and I can imagine who made it. Or when we get a toy, I just think about how an adult, somewhere, had to have made that for a child. And that child had to have been so excited to play with it. But I get to hold it now, all these years later, and years after me, someone else will hold it, and we all become part of this huge thing that started out as mundane and routine for the people who first handled it.”

Alex must have been more uncultured than he had initially known because he had never thought about museums like that. To him, they were quiet, dim buildings filled with stuff that looked a little bit like the stuff he had in his own apartment. He had never taken any time to think about the people attached to those things. He had never taken any time to think about how his things were attached to himself. Maybe in a hundred years someone would find his French press and feel connected with him over a shared love of pretentious coffee-making techniques.

“I think about sex work like that,” Damián said. “I get to meet with a client, and I get to be one part of this person’s life. And a lot of the time, people say sex work is free of all feelings, you know? Like in Pretty Woman, Vivian has that whole thing where she doesn’t kiss anyone because it’s too personal? I don’t think you can manage to isolate all feelings with sex work. I’ve had so many clients who just want someone physically with them, and then they feel relief and reassurance and, just, simple companionship. And sometimes that’s all they need to motivate themselves to find more personal connections with other people, and then I become a dot in that social web.”

Alex’s heart swelled. He could listen to Damián talk about sex for hours.

“That’s beautiful,” Clara said. “You have to be an extrovert for the job, don’t you?”

“I think it helps,” Damián said. “For your own sake. But I know some introverts who recharge alone between clients and won’t leave their apartments unless they’re working.”

“Unlike you right now?”

“I like people! I get my energy from others.”

There was no mention that he was, in fact, working right then with his client sitting right next to him.

Everyone settled into conversation. Alex even felt comfortable enough to start talking at times, offering his insights on the state of history museums, the medical industry, and even weighed in on what Yam’s Halloween costume should be. A firefighter, he agreed, would be the more ethical option over cop.

And then, finally, Kris and Clara asked the question Alex was hoping he wouldn’t have to answer.

“How did you two meet?”

Alex and Damián looked at each other. Martin sunk low into his chair.

“Well,” Damián said to Alex. “Do you want to tell them or?”

“You can,” Alex said.

Damián tried looking casual. “It started out as a prank. Someone hired me pretending to be Alex and told him that they were setting him up on a real date with a friend. And they let me believe it was just a normal appointment. He went through a whole dinner thinking it was a blind date, and I thought he was a client. Needless to say, things got a bit awkward.”

“Oh god.” Kris curled her lip up in disgust. “Isn’t that identity theft or something? Who did that?”

Martin, face red, sheepishly raised his hand. Damián gave him a pointed look.

“Martin,” Clara groaned. “What the hell? That’s not funny.”

“That’s what I told him,” Sam said.

“It wasn’t just me,” Martin said. “It was a few guys at the office.”

“What the fuck?” Kris said. “Why would you do that to them?”

“I didn’t—It wasn’t—I feel really bad about it. I’ve been trying to apologize for two weeks now, but I keep botching it.”

Sam’s face was also bright red, but she didn’t confess to her own faux pas.

Damián nudged Alex, tossed a glance at Martin, and shrugged. Alex was pretty sure he knew what he was asking, so he nodded.

“We can forgive you,” Damián said. “Totally. You’ve been absolved of all your sins.”

Martin looked quite pleased and relieved.

“Yay!” Clara clapped. “Martin, you’re still a dick. Your work friends are a bad influence on you.”

“Yeah.” Martin pulled at his sweater. “They might be.”

Alex wanted to hear more about that. He wanted the gossip on Andrew and Stu—mostly Andrew. He had endured their bullying for years, he wanted to know how the inner workings of their circle were dysfunctional.

But Damián laid his hand on Alex’s back, and Alex’s brain short-circuited. Every nerve ending in his body lit up in ecstasy.

“We can move on,” Damián said. “I’m glad Alex and I met, and that’s all that really matters. And, really, the more we dwell on it, the worse things get. Alex and I are ready to put it all behind us.”

He was now rubbing Alex’s back, his fingers moving up and down his spine. Alex was completely out of commission. It was such a simple touch, and yet Alex’s heart was racing. Something under his belt was starting to wake up, too, and Alex was scared that Damián kept going, he was going to pop a boner right there in front of everyone.

“In that case, does anyone want to play Trivial Pursuit?” Sam asked.

Kris groaned. “I was hoping you would forget about it this time.”

“Nope! We never forget!”

“I do want a rematch.” Clara pointed at Martin. “I’ve been studying.”

“You’ve been studying?” Martin asked. “Studying what?”

“Everything.” Clara waved her hand around in gentle, slow circles. “The world.”

Kris sighed and drained the rest of her wine. “Let me go to the bathroom before we start. I need to walk through the breathing exercises my therapist taught me.”

“I’ll get the game,” Martin said.

“Clara, I made little, tiny desserts,” Sam said. “Can you help me carry them in?”

“Only if they’re super cute tiny desserts.”

And somehow Damián and Alex were alone, awaiting a game of Trivial Pursuit. Even Yam had gotten up to retreat to his dog bed in the corner.

Damián pressed his palm flat to Alex’s back. He leaned in close until his nose almost touched Alex’s ear. “Are you doing okay?” he whispered.

“Yeah.”

“Just let me know if you’re not, and I can make something up to get us out of here.”

He laid his other hand on Alex’s knee, and that felt. Different. There was no one around who could see. There was no one to convince they were a real couple. If they were truly alone, if there wasn’t a risk of anyone stepping back in in the next minute, Alex wondered what Damián would do next.

“I think I’m actually enjoying myself,” Alex said. He was breathless. He’d have to excuse himself to do breathing exercises of his own in the bathroom.

“Good!”

Everyone returned, and Damián pulled his hands away from Alex. He left behind little cold patches on Alex where his body heat had been.

Clara picked up a tiny cookie, complimenting Sam on how she managed to make it so little. Martin sat up the board on the coffee table.

Alex hadn’t played Trivial Pursuit in years. It had been popular right before he was born, and he was familiar with the maroon box that sat in his parents’ hallway closet. Martin and Sam had an updated version that boasted its newness on the front. No more answers like “West Germany” or questions about what briefly-popular 1950s actor won an Oscar in what year.

“We’re kinda nerds,” Kris said. “Martin is the best out of all of us because he knows so much useless shit.”

Alex looked at Martin, sympathetically. His secret was safe with Alex. Martin could be a closet nerd as long as Martin was kinder to Alex and Damián, which Alex was confident was going to happen.

They split into their teams and rolled their die to decide who would go first. Alex let Damián choose their color—blue—and grabbed the first card for Martin and Sam. He cupped his hand around the back to block the answers.

“’What was the first music video to air on MTV?’” Alex read.

“‘Video Killed the Radio Star’,” Martin said.

Alex flipped the card over over. “Yup.”

“That one was easy,” Damián said.

“Everyone knows that,” Kris said.

Sam rolled again. An impressive four. Clara took a card and read a sports question. Sam answered correctly. The pattern continued, annoyingly, for another two turns until neither Sam nor Martin could answer what the former capital of Japan was.

“Alex, Damián,” Kris asked, “who hosted the first FIFA World Cup in 1930?”

Alex had never paid attention to soccer. He was impressed he even knew what sport the World Cup was for. But Damián’s eyes were wide, and he inched forward on the couch cushions.

“Uruguay!” he shouted—though he didn’t need to shout.

“Yeah!” Kris cheered.

“Do you like soccer?” Alex asked.

“Haven’t I told you?” Damián asked.

“No. It’s never come up.”

There was so much more about Damián Alex wanted to learn. He wanted to know what sports teams he cheered for, what his favorite meal was, what he actually did when he wasn’t working.

“Well,” Damián said. “I like soccer.”

“Roll again,” Clara told them, stern. “Talk about soccer later.”

Alex rolled a two. They were now one tile away from their first plastic piece of pie.

“’What are the members of Queer Eye referred to as?”

“The Fab Five!” Damián and Alex said in unison.

“Gay advantage,” Clara said, rolling her eyes and smiling.

Alex wanted to ask Damián if he wanted to watch the show later—the original. There were so many good memories of watching it in high school, in secret. Not that his parents cared. They also watched it on occasion, and Alex would always pretend like he had something better to do rather than sit through an episode with them, a confused feeling of guilt stirring inside him. 

Damián and Alex crushed the next three questions, getting their pie piece for Science and Nature. Damián nudged Alex every time they answered a question right, smiling and laughing.

Kris and Clara pulled ahead eventually. Then, Martin and Sam caught up. In the end, they all had five pieces and were leaning into the board like children.

Alex had never seen Martin relax and laugh. He was usually so stiff at work. Now, he looked goofy.

And Damián looked wonderfully happy. He was beaming. After two correct answers, they had landed on the pink wedge tile—the last one they needed to win.

“’What 1990 romantic comedy film was based on a Roy Orbison song?’” Kris read.

Damián’s mouth fell open. He grabbed Alex’s arm.

“You know this,” he said. “We just watched it together last week. I mentioned it, like, two hours ago.”

They had only ever watched one movie together.

“Pretty Woman?” Alex asked. 

“Goddammit!” Kris shouted, trying to throw the card down on the table. It gently floated down among the others.

Sam groaned and fell into the back of the couch with her arm dramatically thrown over her eyes. Martin scoffed. Clara quietly applauded.

And Damián grabbed Alex by the shoulders.

“Did we win?” Alex asked. “Was that it?”

“Yes! See, I knew it was a good idea to force you to watch Pretty Woman!”

And Damián wrapped his arms around Alex, pulling him into a tight hug. Alex froze there for a moment. Damián’s body was warm around him. Slowly, Alex laid his hands on Damián’s back. He could feel Damián’s shoulder blades, strong and poking out just a little. He could feel his heartbeat and the softness of his sweater against his skin.

They pulled apart, Damián keeping his head low as he turned back to the board and the others. Alex couldn’t see his face. He could see just part of a smile.

“And Martin and Sam’s win streak comes to an end!” Kris cheered.

“You fuckers,” Martin said, though he was smiling, cheeks rosy from the excitement.

“This feels good,” Clara said. “Cathartic. And we’d love to celebrate your defeat, but we should really head out.”

“Us too,” Alex said. It was already going on 10. It would be his bedtime soon.

They helped tidy. Damián carried empty wine glasses to the kitchen and complimented Sam on her wine choice for the night. Sam spoke so easily to him, the tension from the week before forgotten between them.

“You and Marcus are a cute pair,” Kris said.

Alex, his heart starting to ache, shrugged. “Thanks.”

“You two just… mesh well. I know you haven’t known each other for long, but I hope it all works out.”

Alex looked back to the kitchen at Damián. He was wrapped up in a conversation with Sam. He leaned against the counter, arms crossed, head tilted.

They did mesh well. Alex firmly believed that. Damián was fun to hang around even if that evening had added another $200 to Alex’s bill. God. He was going to cry the day that Venmo transaction went through and his bank account reached an even sadder number than it was already at.

“You two are good together,” Martin said, face flushing. “So it might sound wrong, but I’m glad we did go through with the prank.”

Clara rolled her eyes. “Martin—“

“You’ve always been so timid,” Martin said. “We’ve known each other for, what? Six years? And this is the first time you’ve ever come out of your shell around the office. Whenever Marcus picks you up, you smile at him and rush out with him. You’ve never done that before.”

“I’ve never smiled before?”

“You’ve never smiled while running out of the office with someone else.”

Alex hadn’t realized he had been so sappy towards Damián. How embarrassing.

“I didn’t know you watch me from across the office,” Alex said.

“I usually don’t. But I really have felt guilty about the prank. And whenever Marcus comes in,” Martin lowered his voice. “Whenever he comes in, Andrew and Stu—mostly Andrew—has something to say, and I don’t know. They’re kinda pissing me off. So I let them leave on their own at the end of the day, and I end up watching you guys.”

Wow. That was way more thoughtful than Alex had ever expected.

“Can I ask why you guys did it in the first place?” Alex asked. “The prank? It was really stupid.”

“It was Andrew’s idea. I don’t know why he thought of it, but he said that if we got you a prost—a sex worker, then it would be doing you a favor. That you needed to loosen up. And Stu was jumping in, and then I couldn’t really say no.”

“You could have,” Kris said. “You could have said no.”

“I could have,” Martin said. “And I should have.”

But then Alex wouldn’t have ever met Damián, and he wouldn’t be sitting in a group of people who could be potential new friends. And he would have never gotten the chance to see the softer side of Martin.

He knew what peer pressure was like. He was starting to see the type of person Andrew really was—a bully, obviously, but a really nasty one.

“It’s okay,” Alex said. “I guess it worked out.”

But God, wasn’t that selfish? Damián could have been in real danger.

Damián walked up behind Alex and laid his hands on his arms. It was more touching than Damián really needed to do for the job. “Ready to head out?” he asked, rubbing Alex’s arms up and down.

Alex rose, wondering if that was how couples really acted. Damián grabbed Alex’s coat before sliding his own on. Kris and Clara lingered behind, slowly making their way to the coat rack.

In the elevator down to the lobby, Alex thought about Kris and Martin’s words. What was that hug about? And did Damián notice how Alex smiled at him?

“Do you want to do something else?” Damián asked.

“What?”

“It’s still early. We can go out or something.”

“It’s almost 10.”

“Ooh. Sorry. Forgot you have a normal job.” Alex thought Damián was being sincere for a moment. “I can take you home, and you can tuck yourself in bed and go to sleep for a whole eight hours. And then you can go to your little office job.”

Damián’s lower lip was jutted out in a fake pout. Alex shoved him with his shoulder.

“You’re making fun of me,” Alex said.

“We’re young! Let’s get a little ice cream or something and then you can go to sleep.”

Alex wouldn’t have said no for any reason. He followed Damián to the curb and climbed into an Uber to get to what Damián claimed was the best ice cream place in the world. Damián sat closer to him in the car than he needed to be.

Their date was over, after all. Damián could have gone home, job complete. $200 added to the total. But he was insisting on more time with Alex. And Alex could only tell himself that something good was happening.

[raspberrysunshinebby]

Two Choices

(I’m gonna change the name I promise. Please send suggestions.)

Chapter 7

Pairing: Eris x reader x Azriel

Summary: The future wife of Eris never cared much for mating bonds, she had spent years in love with Eris and when Beron finally died they could be together. He has full intention to make his love into his High Lady until at a party meant to celebrate Eris’ reign the girl finds herself finding her mate, Azriel.

Warnings: Slight smut, angst, azriel is literally toxic/manipulative and i was going to say kind of abusive but he literally is. Abuse in this chapter a lot, tell me if I missed something.

Word Count:  6155

I stood in front of the golden mirror as I stared at the dress I wore. The Night Court black enhanced my dark circles, it made my face look too pale, it showed off my blemishes and it made my hair look dull.

The dress also didn’t do much justice to my figure, it originally held me better and showed more of my arms and had a slit for my legs but Azriel complained to the dress designer that he didn’t want everyone to see that. The more fabric the designer added on the happier Azriel became. I was never even this covered up in the Autumn Court who traditionally trained women to have modesty.

My hair style also showed off the fat of my face. I always like to have my hair at least somewhat down as it framed my face better, but Azriel wanted it up in a bun.

Azriel stood behind me, finishing up putting on his black attire before we could leave to go to the Court of Nightmares. Mor’s father, Keir I think, found out about the mating bond which made Rhysand required to take me for at least one of their little meetings or something. I was kind of confused when he explained what they were for.

Once Azriel finished putting his shoes on he walked over to me, wrapping his arm around my waist and kissed my cheek before explaining what he’d told me possibly a million times. “Just remember okay, keep a straight face, maybe even look a little mean and don't talk unless spoken too. I don't want to silence you I just want to keep you safe.”

He tilted my face to place a kiss on my lips after I nodded to him. Then he grabbed my hand while I followed him out of the room and downstairs.

Him and I walked into the living room where I saw everyone else standing around, except for the Highlord and Lady. it seemed we were just waiting on those two. Azriel dropped my hand to go chat with the others, leaving me standing on the side of the room. I heard them laugh about something and saw Mor reach up to wrap her arm around Azriel and pull him down to whisper something. I swear I saw his cheeks turn red. 

They all continued chatting once Mor let Azriel go while I stood there in the corner picking at my cuticles and staring at the floor, unsure of what else to do.   

After a couple of minutes Rhysand and Feyre finally came down, Azriel walked over to me to bring me over to the rest of them so we could finally winnow to the Court of Nightmares. I felt really weird when Mor was the one to winnow me.

Once we’d gotten there Azriel was quick to wrap his arm around me before having us both walk in, I followed Azriel’s advice and kept my face straight, I thought about making myself look mean but I didn’t trust myself to not look stupid.

Feyre and Rhysand immediately moved to their thrones as they did, everyone bowed to them, once the two settled themselves at their seats they gave commands for everyone to stand. I saw some people move to converse and some moved to speak to Feyre and Rhysand, most likely officials. 

Azriel began moving us toward some corner, grabbing a single glass of wine for himself. There was a time when me and my friends were planning to hangout at some bar, which led Azriel to tell me no. He said it didn’t matter if he took me there or if he even stayed with me there, he didn’t want me around that stuff or to drink, of course he could drink as much as he wanted.

Once we’d gotten there he moved his arm from my waist to my neck to hold me in closer. As we stood there I heard music begin to play and several people, including Cassian and Nesta, move to dance. I moved my hand to Azriels, “Can we go dance?” I asked calmly, but through the bond I made sure to let my excitement show through. I really liked to dance, and was really good at it. My brothers did not spend so many years teaching me how to be bad at dancing.

“I can't dance,” was all he said.

I ran my thumb across his hand, “I could show you how later, when we get back.”

He smirked, “Why would I spend the time learning how to dance when I could fuck you instead.”

I quickly shut down the bond so he couldn’t feel my disappointment, I knew it wouldn’t have mattered anyway. I nodded without looking at him while I stared at the people dancing longingly.

Standing there felt so long I couldn’t tell you how long we’d stood there. With no conversation and us doing literally nothing I was bored out of my mind, I was lost in my thoughts thinking about literally anything, mainly about some books I’d recently read, to pass the time. I felt an annoyance from the bond but ended up ignoring it until I felt Azriel tug on my arm and we began moving to another room with Rhysand and other members of the Inner Court.

Azriel sat me down next to him and then proceeded to take his own chair, everyone else sitting around us as well. Eventually Mor’s father, Keir, came in as well.

They began to discuss basic issues with the Court of Nightmares or I guess Hewn City? I wasn’t really sure what to call it at this point. Keir was complaining about his people being stuck under a mountain for centuries when I stopped listening, I not only didn’t understand what was going on but a part of me didn't care. It wasn't my issue anyway.

I played with my fingers for a little while until hearing my name snapped me out of it, “Lady (Y/N), correct?” Keir asked me, I only nodded cause I wasn’t sure what else I could say.

“Ah, from the Raith family. Your brothers were quite the talk here for a long time.” Keir smirked at me, I could feel Azriel’s confusion down the bond.

We had never discussed our pasts, I knew he was at some Illyrian camp and he knew I was to be High Lady of the Autumn Court. That was all. I never told him that my brother was a duke, or about what happened to my parents.

“Your brothers beating your father to death, how interesting.” Keir said Azriel stood up before speaking. “Do not speak to my mate, ever.”

I shouldn’t have spoken, I was told to not but at this moment I couldn’t help it. “My brothers never beat my father to death, my father was a raging alcoholic and was beaten to death by some drunk man after pissing him off. Never speak so lowly of my brothers.”  

“I apologize for lying to you sister, but we did do that.” I look over to see my brother, Cardan walking in.

“My apologies for being late to you as well, Keir.” Keir nodded to him.

I sat there with my eyes wide in shock before my brother began speaking, “My brothers and I beat our father to death after he beat our mother to death. So I’d say it was a fair trade.” Cardan cleared his throat, “Now, since that little history lesson is done we have things to discuss.”

Rhysand rolled his eyes, “I rejected that meeting with you Lord Cardan.”

“Which raises my suspicions more.”

I was confused mostly, but also excited to see my brother. Then I grew a little sad to know this was under urgent business. 

“Keir, be a dear and explain to them.” Keir smirked before speaking.

“Lady (Y/N) Raith is Cardan and Silas’s ward under Autumn Court law. Under that law, if a lady is high born, like Lady (Y/N), her family must approve the marriage or else it is considered artificial. Even with mates.”

Then my brother began to speak, “I, at first, did not intend to take my sister from her mate. Unfortunately, the more my letters are not delivered to her and the more my meetings with her are rejected my suspicions continue to grow.” I could basically feel Azriel jaw tighten as my brother turned to look at him, “You must understand I simply wish for my sister to be happy, but considering she is still my ward I demand to know why she has not responded to letters, my invitation to my wedding and simply disappeared after the letter she sent to Eris.”

I never sent a letter to Eris, I never even wrote one. Before Rhysand could speak I stupidly opened my mouth, “I never wrote a letter to Eris.” I spoke softly, out of confusion. 

Cardan’s eyes darkened as he stared at Azriel, “You never wrote a letter, my sister?” 

I could feel Rhysands eyes on me, I heard a voice.

Lie.

I should’ve listened, I really should’ve but I could never lie to Cardan. If it was another brother I could, but Cardan always knew.

I shook my head no, and Cardan turned his head to Rhysand. “Was the letter your doing, or perhaps her mates? I wonder if there's other lies you’ve told my sister.”

“It's a situation you could not understand, we did what we thought was best for your little sister.” Rhysand said.

“And what was that?” Cardan raised his voice, “Taking her away from her family and keeping her in this dreadful place, I mean mother look at her she looks fucking dead.” He wasn’t wrong, I did look dead.

“Eris-” Rhysand was cut off.

“This has nothing to do with Eris, this has to do with the fact you took her from her brothers, from her cousins. Who all of which have been ready to start a war for weeks now. The weeks you’d been rejecting my meetings.”

“You cannot start a war for a girl.”

“Wars have been started for less.”

“Keir,” Rhysand turned his attention, “what is the meaning of this?”

Keir’s smirk never left his face, “Since you are so hesitant about having my people come to Valeris, Cardan has made a deal with me. My men will train in his father in-laws' armies, and my women will be allowed to spend time with the noble ladies of the Winter Court. All thanks to Cardan.” Cardan smiled.

“With this I have Keir’s full support for his men. So if you are thinking about starting that war over my sister, it’d be such a shame if an enemy was so damn close to you.”

I could feel the tension in the room and was so uncertain what to do. A part of me screamed to go with my brother, now that his marriage with Lady Valerie would be confirmed I could go there with him. I wouldn’t need to return to the Autumn Court and risk seeing Eris, I could live happily in the Winter Court.

The other part told me that Azriel was my mate, that it was my duty to stay with him. No matter how much he yelled at me or just made me feel like shit the mother had put us together for a reason, I tried to tell myself.

Was there really a reason for anything the mother did though? What if my mating bond was just a sick joke? What if it didn’t really matter, what if nothing mattered. 

Cardan began speaking again, “You must understand that my beloved mother was not only murdered by my father, but beaten, raped, manipulated and humiliated by him. I will not have my sister be bound, restricted and drained of everything she has as my mother did.” Cardan said, when he saw my mother he saw a glimpse into my future. In The future he refused to allow me to suffer, I began to feel guilty for who I’ve become.

Azriel stood up from his seat, “I promise you Cardan that your sister is happy here. I apologize that we didn’t keep in touch with you and your brothers but we did what was best for her.”

“Is that the night court's favorite line now? What's best for my sister?” Cardan practically rolled his eyes. 

“I don’t understand why you're fighting this so much Cardan, we’re trying to do the best we can for her. You have to understand.” Rhys told Cardan, my brother ignored him to look at me instead.

“Tell me sister, you knew nothing of the letter right? Did you know they’ve been rejecting meetings that we’ve wanted to have with you? Did you know about the letters I’ve sent directly to you? Did you even know I was getting married in two weeks?” Cardan hissed, he wasn’t angry at me but he was still angry.

I felt a voice in my head telling me to lie again, but I knew I couldn’t. I apologized mentally to whatever that voice was before shaking my head. I could feel azriel getting a little pissed off down the bond.

“After a situation that involved the Autumn Court we’ve believed it was best to seperate (Y/N) from it. We apologize for any stress brought to your family but I assure you I take good care of my mate.” Azriel stated, you could tell he tried to cover up his annoyance but it fell through.

“Tell me why my sister looks so skinny and dead then? Why does she look like she hasn’t eaten in weeks.” Cardan pointed out. Did I really look that thin? I didn’t think I lost weight, I moved my hand to my wrist to wrap my thumb and pointer finger around it and realized how much space was left.

“She’s been adjusting to the different culture here, I apologize we should’ve watched things like her weight more.” Rhysand replied, I could feel my brother's annoyance fuming off him.

“My sister has never been this skinny, she looks dead and you tell me ‘oh no, our bad sorry.’” Cardan fumed, he looked over to me “(Y/N), answer this one question.”

I looked up at him, “Do you want to be here?” Cardan asked me.

I thought for a moment before I came to my conclusion, I would be fine going to the Winter Court with Cardan. I could live in peace there, away from both Azriel and Eris,  maybe I could even marry some noble if I wished. At the same time the cauldron chose Azriel and I. I would be going against the mother if I did, I also didn’t know what Azriel would do if I married another man. I’d heard stories of males murdering their mates husbands before and I didn’t know if Azriel would be that kind of man, I couldn’t put some innocent man through that. At this point as well, I didn’t know what I wanted or maybe I didn’t care. I wondered what I’d do without Azriel, everything I’ve done has revolved around him and I’d grown so attached to him I couldn’t imagine myself without him, if I did it made my stomach sick. I had to stay.

“I’m going to stay.” I told my brother.

“But do you want to?” 

I hesitated, “Yes.”

I felt Azriel move his hand onto my thigh as a shiver was sent through my spine, I looked up to my brother to see his eyes turn sad.

My brother nodded his head, before he could say anything else a guard came into the room.

“Lord Carden.” He looked at my brother, “High Lord Eris is here and he’s requesting to speak to you.”

I felt Azriel’s hand tense up, he turned to look at Mor who had already stood up and walked toward us. 

I heard my brother respond but couldn’t make out the words as Mor had already winnowed us back to the house.

I realized when I got there my hands were shaking.

After we’d gotten back Azriel immediately took us to his room where I felt him finally let his walls down and I could feel his stress and anger down the bond.

“Az.” I started before he just told me to shut up, which I did.

“Of fucking course Eris had to show up, that dickhead.” I heard him mutter under his breath. I only stood in my spot, nervous on what to do.

“And what the fuck does your brother mean you ‘skinny,’ asshole doesn’t know shit.” he ran a hand over his hair before dragging himself to his drawer to get comfortable clothes. I moved myself to sit on the bed, not sure what he wanted me to do.

Once he was finished changing I felt the bed shift on the over side before he moved his hands to zip down my dress. Once it was off he tossed one of his shirts to me to wear.

I hated wearing his shirts, the big hole on the back for his wings made my back cold. I put it on anyway as I didn’t want to bring myself to grab a night gown.

Once it was on Azriel turned my body to have me sit in his lap, chest to chest, and wrapped his arms around me. He laid his head on mine.

“You don't look dead.” He muttered to himself, stroking my arm. 

I fell asleep listening to him muttering to himself about how I wasn’t too skinny, how I didn’t look dead. Almost like he was trying to convince himself.

I woke up to a mountain of letters Rhysand had brought to me, all from my brother that he’d sent over the months I was here. I sat in my room going through them based on dates, I quickly noticed all of which were opened.

As I went through them all the letters were him asking how I was, if Azriel was good to me, if we could meet and then went to him wondering if they kidnapped me.

I felt sad reading these, I realized how much I had missed not only Cardan but my other brothers as well. As I read through them I didn’t notice Azriel entering my room and I only noticed him after he peered over my shoulder reading the letters as well.

“From your brother?” He asked me as I nodded.

I really didn’t feel like talking to him at the moment, I felt angry at him for the fact that he knew my brother was sending me letters and yet said nothing about it. He kept it from me.

He put his arm around my shoulder, sending a feeling of annoyance to me which I accidentally let through the bond. He quickly moved off of me.

“Are you mad at me?” He asked me with a low voice.

I hesitated, “No, I’m not mad.”

“Don’t lie to me.” He said in a stern voice, making my body turn cold.

“I’m not lying.” I muttered.

“I can feel it down the bond, you're mad at me. Why are you mad at me?” He questioned me.

I put down the letters before rubbing my temples, “I’m not mad, I’m just annoyed you hid these letters from me.”

“Well I’m fucking sorry I was trying to protect my mate.”

I took a deep breath, “I’m not fighting with you right now.”

I heard him slam his arms down on something, “Who said we’re fighting?”

“This is going to lead to a fight,” I responded quickly. “It feels like all we do is fight.”

“We do not only fight!” he yelled out.

I finally turned to look at him, “You are literally yelling at me right now.”

His jaw clenched, “I didn’t mean to raise my voice.”

“You mean yell.”

“I did not yell.”

“But you did.” I snapped at him.

I picked my letters up again, “Just leave Azriel, I don't want to fight so just go.”

I could hear loud stomping before my door was slammed, causing something in my room to fall and me to jump.

I gained my composure again before I continued reading and organizing the letters.

Azriel had begun to ignore everything I’d say, from questions to just simple conversation. He would ignore it all.

The only time he had responded to me was when I asked him what was wrong, to which he responded with a simple “You didn’t want to fight, so we’re not fighting.” Which hurt.

When I said that I meant in that moment, I was annoyed with what he’d done and said that. I had told him I was sorry a million times only for him to ignore it every time.

This went on for a week until I got my third invitation from my friends to go out. I had rejected the other two because even though Azriel wasn’t talking to me I didn’t want to just leave. I’d missed our game night because of him.

This invitation was just a simple dinner, and I really wanted to go. I knew no matter what Azriel wasn’t going to respond to me so I skipped over Azriel and decided to ask Feyre or Rhysand, maybe even Cassian if one of them could take me instead. Or maybe ask Azriel for me.

I was dressed in a simple purple dress, it was dark but it was the only colorful thing I owned at this point, and rushed down the stairs to find literally anyone who wasn’t Azriel.

When I got down there I didn’t see anyone except for Amren, a person who kind of scared me. It had absolutely nothing to do with her, it was just the aura she gave off kind of scared me.

Before I could run away, I accidentally made eye contact with her. I felt a lump in my throat before I realized I had to say something or else I’d look really weird.

“Hey, um.” I collected my thoughts to say, “Have you seen the Highlord or Lady, or like anyone?”

“No, why? We can relay a message.” Amren said, leaning toward me. Only making me more nervous.

I began to play with my fingers, “I was going to see if one of them could drop me off to this dinner my friends are having.”

Her eyebrow raised hearing this, “Why don't you ask Azriel, or just go?”

I swallowed my spit, “it's complicated, can you just relay that message for me.”

“When do you need to go?” Amren asked me.

“In like an hour and a half.” I told her.

She pointed up the stairs, “Go finish getting ready, I’ll take you.”

My eyes lit up, “really?” 

“Yes, now go.”

I nodded to her before running up the stairs to finish getting ready.

In the half an hour I did a simple hair style and some makeup before I grabbed a pair of short heels and a jacket and headed down stairs to meet Amren, I was clearly very excited.

Once I got down there I was her standing up to meet me, she walked over to me while asking me the location. I told her it and she grabbed my arm and winnowed us.

When we got there I told her what time to pick me up which she nodded to before winnowing away for me to enter the building alone. I saw Arella and Edith sitting at a table chatting before they saw me.

They ushered me over and when I got there I heard a screech behind me, before I could turn I could feel Primrose hugging me from behind ranting about how much she missed me. While she was ranting Leilani and Ophelia came in as well, clearly making fun of Primrose.

We all pushed ourselves to sit down, Primrose and I were practically stuck at the hip at this point. 

Primrose gushed about how much she missed me as well all chatted for hours. Leilani got mad at Arella when Arella stole Leilani’s bread, which was funny to watch.

I told Amren three hours and Amren stuck to the three hours. I looked out the window to see her waiting.

“I have to go guys, I’ll see you this Saturday, okay?” my friends whined and groaned as I had to leave. I went around to give them hugs as a goodbye, making sure to give Primrose her hug last knowing she wouldn’t let me go for a minute.

When I walked outside I immediately went toward Amren with a stupid grin on my face, Amren looked me up and down, “You look happy.”

I smiled at her, “I am, thank you for taking me.”

She nodded to me, “Come on, girl.” I let her gently grab onto my arm before we winnowed back to the house.

When we’d gotten back I gave her my thank you’s to which she smiled at, after I went into the kitchen to grab myself a glass of water to drink because I realized how thirsty I was from all the talking.

I walked myself to my room to change before I’d have to suffer sleeping in the silent room of Azriel, even when he’s not speaking to me he still has me sleeping in his room. I’m not sure if that’s romantic or just weird.

Once I got there I put my glass of water down and brought myself to my dresser to get out a nightgown, completely ignoring the winged male who sat in a chair in my room.

Azriel sat with his arms crossed, looking pissed. I thought about apologizing but that’s all I’ve been doing this past week. I was tired of apologizing.

So I stayed silent as well, I stayed silent as I got dressed and stayed silent as I washed my face and readied myself for bed. I ignored his looming presence as he’d ignored me this past week, all because I was annoyed he kept letters from my brother from me.

When I was done I was going to leave and go to his room so I could sleep. I didn’t want to sleep in his room but it was better than trying to sleep in here as he sat in that stupid fucking chair.

With the way the chair was positioned I would have to walk past him to get to the door. I considered jumping out the window so I wouldn’t have to risk Azriel grabbing me or something but I decided to walk past him anyway and pray he wouldn’t grab me.

I was stupid for thinking maybe he wouldn’t grab me, because he did. Azriel grabbed me by my waist before pulling me into his lap, well more forcing me into his lap.

I struggled for a second before I realized that it was no use. Fighting him was useless because of how much much bigger and stronger he was than me. Sucked but it was the truth, once I was in that chair I was stuck there until Azriel let me go.

“Where did you go tonight?” Azriel asked me, sternly.

My jaw clenched, “I went out with my friends, Amren took me.” His grip on me tightened.

“So you think it’s okay to just walk out like that? Without telling me where you're going or asking me if it’s okay to go?” 

I went to move my hand but Azriel moved his hand to my wrist to hold me down, “you weren’t talking to me so I went. I still asked if I could go, but I got permission so I’m not sure what the problem is.”

“Your being such a fucking cunt.” Azriel insulted me, “You said you didn’t want to fight and now here we are, about to fight because of you.”

“Well you didn’t want to talk to me so I don’t know what you expected. Now let go of me, I’m tired.” I told him, thankfully he did let me go. Once he did I stood up from his lap quickly, I looked down at my wrist to see how tight he gripped on me. It looked a little red but it wasn’t nearly as bad as the one time he hurt my wrist.

I started walking away before I heard Azriel get up from the seat and start to follow me. I was walking to the bathroom to grab myself some lotion. Looking at my wrist made me realize how dry it was, I assumed Azriel just wanted to fight some more so I let him follow me. 

As Azriel entered the bathroom with me I looked through my basket of lotions and noticed that the lotion was still there, I reached to grab it before handing it to Azriel asking him to throw it out for me.

I did it hoping that him seeing me wanting that scent to be thrown away would make him happy, I was showing him I didn’t want it. 

“Why do you have this?” Azriel asked me coldly.

I turned to look at him, “I didn’t know I had it, that’s why I’m asking you to throw it away.” 

I saw Azriel roll his eyes, “sure, you accidentally had something that smells like your ex.”

“I’ve been in your room, using your lotions and using perfumes and shit that you bought me, why the fuck would I know that I still had this? Also I assumed you just threw it away anyway.”

“How the fuck would I know that you had a matching lotion?” He snapped at me.

“Every fucking perfume in this stupid thing,” I shook the container with the perfumes and lotions, “has a matching lotion. That’s how it was made and that’s how I found it. Just throw out the lotion.”

I grabbed the lotion I was really looking for, one that smelled like grapefruit and oranges, I put on the lotion where I noticed Azriel had actually left to go throw the lotion away.

By the time I was finished lotioning myself Azriel was back in the bathroom and he was aggressively grabbing the containers with the lotions and perfumes.

“What are you doing?” I asked him, dumbfounded.

“I’m gonna go through your things, I’m deciding which ones I like and which ones I don’t.” He told me, it sounded fucking stupid.

“You're kidding right? You want to dictate what I fucking smell like?” I snapped at him; annoyed out of my mind.

“Considering you're my mate I don’t see the issue.” 

“What if I started dictating how you smelt Az?” I asked him, “Because I have some great fucking suggestions on how you smell.”

“You're not dictating how I smell, (Y/N).” He exclaimed, “I’m a warrior and you’re gonna make me smell like a fucking bakery.”

“It would be a step up from the constant sweat and dirt you smell like.” I muttered, just loud enough for him to hear.

“Your fucking kidding right?” He shouted at me, but I ignored him and walked into my room. I was trying to make a bee-line to his room so I could just go to sleep. I was tired not only physically but of him as well.

I couldn’t even get out before he grabbed me by my shoulders and yanked me to look at him, “Dont fucking walk away from me.” He told me as he gripped my shoulders, making it hurt like hell. 

“You are my fucking mate, my fucking female and you have no right to go against what I say.” He sneered at me, his grip increasing on my shoulders.

“Az, please stop it hurts.” I whined to him in pain.

“Your my mate, I basically fucking own you. I get to choose what you wear, do and smell like. Don’t you fucking contradict me.” 

My shoulder felt like it was going to break. I cried as he yelled at me, not from him yelling but from the intense pain I felt as it felt like he was breaking my shoulder bone.

I sobbed begging him to stop and let go of me, trying to tell him how bad it hurt but failing as it only came out as sobs.

Finally, he got annoyed enough to not only let go of me but push me away from him. Allowing me to fall onto the corner of my bed, there was a sharp part on the corner, one my back pushed up against as I fell.

I cried at the pain of my skin opening as I fell but Azriel didn’t care. He didn’t care how badly he just injured his mate.

He paced around the room trying to calm himself down from his anger as I laid against my bed on the floor, feeling the blood spill out of my back. My hand reached to my back to feel the warm liquid that went down it, I pulled my hand back to see it covered in blood.

I called his name out, begging for him to see the state I was in. Instead he began yelling at me to shut up.

He paced around some more before I forced myself to get up, I felt weak as I forced myself toward him.

I couldn’t remember what he said as I approached him, I held my hand out for him to see and turned myself around to see my back. I caught a glimpse of it in the mirror in my room, it was a deep cut going down my back that bled and bled. If I wasn’t in so much pain I would’ve laughed at how much damage a bed could do.

Azriel finally realized the damage he’d done, he realized how badly he’d just injured me, how much pain I was in because of him.

He forced me to lay down on the bed as he yelled out to someone, telling them to call another person named Madja or something.

I allowed him to instruct me to lay on the bed on my stomach when I saw someone else walk into the room, some women with a sort of bag l.

The woman approached me, said something to Azriel about how he was lucky she wasn’t busy today and popped something in my mouth.

Whatever she put in my mouth made the world seem blurry before it went black.

When I woke up it was sunny outside, the light blinding me.

It took me a minute to adjust to it before I looked around the room, it was empty besides Azriel sitting on the same chair in my room. Instead this time he was dead asleep on the chair, sleeping like he’d been out for days.

The last thing I remember of him was his anger and how he hurt me, so I didn’t dare to wake him up. Instead I forced myself to leave my bed, feeling weak as I walked toward my mirror.

I noticed I was still wearing the same bloodied night gown as I approached the mirror, when I got there I took off the dress leaving my body naked as I turned to see my back.

Down my back was a long stitch, starting my shoulder down all the way to my butt. I ran a hand over my stitches, careful not to break them before I turned my body to look at my shoulders and chest. The bruise that was left on them was similar to the ones Azriel left on my wrist.

I walked myself over to my dresser, not wanting to wear the same dirty, bloody gown and picked out a different one. Before I had the chance to grab one there was ruffling behind me and then I felt a hand on my arm, I flinched at the feeling.

“Baby,” I heard Azrie’s voice, “you're not supposed to be up.”

I simply nodded, and let him lead me back to bed. Once I sat down he went to the dresser himself to grab me a nightgown.

Once he’d gotten the gown he walked over to me to help me put it on, I hated feeling him touch me especially when I was in such a vulnerable position but there wasn’t much I could do.

I tensed up when I felt his lips on my forehead after he finished dressing me, he then helped me lay down on my stomach in order to not rip my stitches.

I felt him lay on the bed next to me, also on his stomach and resting his arms along my back, he rubbed his hand against my back and he began to speak.

I was unsure of what he said as I shut my brain down, begging for sleep to take me again.

[harocat]

First of all, how are you? Yes, the main question honestly. I hope you had a nice New Year celebration. Yet another question, If this is a propriate one, how did your journey in watching figure skating begin?  Sorry for the curiosity, I’m just wondering how something passionate started.

And thank you.

I could say a million, million words and not be able to wrap them into the level of gratitude I feel towards the existence of your blog. I started, of course, with Yuuri (I love so much how good of a person he remains, despite all the hardships he encounters, so many significant details, but that's what Yuuri is all about: what you can't put into words, he always chooses action over expression which requires more attention, it's beyond me how many people can simply overlook that, and I think I could talk about it for a very long time), then I clung to all the clear and wonderful ideas about figure skating (special thank you for my sweet meow meow Wakaba Higuchi and dearest Satoko Miyahara), but beyond that I just felt comfortable staying here. I know this may sound awkward and perhaps too personal, but I really hope it doesn't unsettle you. The last little while has been hard for me (it's been going on longer than I realized) and it was good to know that I could go somewhere where I don't have to be afraid, where it would be safe to sit and just quietly think. Your perspective somehow softens my heart, sometimes it's hard for me to explain. I write in no way with the thought of burdening you, but with pure benevolence. I really hope that you know that we appreciate you very much. Thank you so much for your patience and dedication and lightness and seriousness. You don't have to read or respond to any of my words (only if you want to), I just hope you are well, and you are in good health. Merry Christmas and Happy New Year to you, all the best, and peace of heart and soul.

Thank you for the lovely message. I'm really sorry it took me a while to reply. This was so sweet and I'm so glad my blog has been a place where you feel welcome and relieved. Seriously I almost teared up a bit reading this. And I hope things look up for you soon.

(Also your words about Yuuri are so nice. He really is the best boy ever.)

I hope you also had a great holiday season. Mine was nice. I went to a con over the weekend of NY, which was a new experience. I got a pair of roller skates which I haven't had a chance to try out yet because it's been too wet out. I could go to the skating rink, but I haven't roller skated since I was a teenager so I'd rather put them on the first time somewhere where no one will see me ahaha.

I got into skating when I was really young. I have vague memories of watching the whole Tonya Harding debacle play out, which definitely got me interested. I remember watching the Olympics that year on the tv in our basement. I only watched the women. Ladies has always been my favorite discipline. At the very beginning it was the only one I watched!

The next year my older brother gave me a poster of baby Michelle Kwan from his Sports Illustrated for Kids. I thought she looked super cool, because she was so young herself, so I started watching her competitions. The rest is basically history. I somehow became totally obsessed with her and it developed into a childhood hyper fixation. I recorded all of her competitions and by the early 2000s I had a literal massive box of recorded skating competitions (not just hers). Somewhere it still exists. I remember eventually I started taping over some of the competitions because I didn't want to buy new tapes, but I NEVER taped over one of Michelle's. I watched everything though; every pro competition (RIP cheesy pro comps), every ice show, etc. In the last half of the 90s and early 2000s, there was SO MUCH skating on tv in the US.

I went ice skating for the first time in when I was in elementary school, and my mom signed me up for lessons. I never completed the lessons because I stepped on the ice and within two minutes, I attempted a spin and broke my ankle. Kids are dumb. Once I was healed I did go back on the ice, and I skated a lot until high school. I did take lessons, but I was never super serious about it. I'd love to take it up again, but because of my ankles (ironically enough), I'd need to buy more expensive skates and I just haven't felt like investing in it. Hopefully the roller skates are a step toward that.

Michelle was such a constant in my childhood, because her career was quite long, that she really did leave an indelible mark on me. After she retired I kind of flitted in and out of the sport for some years. There were a couple skaters I pretty consistently followed, and some seasons I watched more competitions than others. So I was always a big fan, but sometimes I was more 'diehard' than other times.

I liked Davis and White and Mirai Nagasu, baby Yuzuru really caught my eye. I loved Tatsuki Machida and Shen/Zhao a lot. And Mao. ❤️

I always stayed up on being knowledgeable about the sport even if I wasn't committed to watching every competition. I've been watching consistently again since shortly after Sochi, but tbh until Yuri on Ice happened I didn't really talk about it much? I didn't know many people online who cared about skating, and I was well aware figure skating fandom was very vitriolic, so I pretty much refused to venture into it. I just watched it.

When YOI happened more of my regular online friends, people I followed, etc. started posting about skating so I started sharing my opinions more online as well. Also it was nice to come into a fandom already having knowledge about the subject matter ahahaha. That was new! TBH before YOI, in my head I'd plotted a figure skating AU for most of my fandoms. Now the AU was canon.

[hannahsmusings]

*Jackson just nodded at the mention of those delicious macarons he loved so much, knowing he would indulge today, fuck the strict and rigid rules he set up for himself, he was sick of wallowing in his own self pity and using alcohol as an escape, he would just use delicious sweets to mask the pain and sadness today* *he shakes his head when Bonnie mentions getting Martin* I want to drive if that’s okay… *he would always go to the bakery as just Jackson, he was never the billionaire philanthropist when he was there and it didn’t feel right showing up with a chauffeur, he just wanted to go back to those simpler times, before his family had put all of this on him, before he became a household name, before he met you and had his entire world turned upside down, he just wanted to feel normal, that being the beauty of that little bakery, it made him feel normal and at home and he wanted to live in that feeling for a bit* I’ll be down in a moment. Thank you, Bonnie. *he gives her a small yet tight lipped smile before getting up, slowly making his way to the bathroom to freshen up* *he showered and got himself ready, throwing on some comfortable clothes before heading downstairs, spotting Bonnie in the foyer* *he grabs his own personal car keys from the ring where they hung by the door, it being rare for Jackson to drive on his own without Martin so he was excited, as excited as a severely depressed person could be* *he walks with her out to the garage, clicking the unlock button his key fob and climbing into the Range Rover that his father got for him when he locked down his biggest client that took Ford Industries from a million dollar company to a billion dollar one, the only nice thing he had ever done for his son* *the ride into town was quiet, Jackson deep in his head and just watching the scenery, not usually getting the front seat view like this, always being in the back with tinted windows and usually staring down at his phone, but now he was taking everything in as if it was for the first time* *he parked outside the bakery, getting out and helping Bonnie out before walking into the bakery with her, holding the door for her and a few other customers that walked out, the smell of sweets and dough hitting him and he immediately felt like he was home, nothing having changed since he was last there* *his cheeks immediately warmed as the two older women behind the counter instantly recognized him, giving them both polite smiles* Hi there, loves. How are you?

*it had been forever since Jackson had come into the shop, Martha’s heart nearly exploding out of her chest at the sight of him, he looked thinner and very pale than she remembered but she would never forget the boy’s face, he may of been a grown man now but she would always see him as that lost little boy who was desperate for any maternal and nurturing love* Jackson! My boy! *she rushes out from behind the counter, going right for him and immediately wrapping her arms around him, her barely coming up to his shoulders* Oh dear, it’s been so long! Far too long! 

__________________________________________________

*smiles at your request, shaking my head fondly* Of course that’s okay. We’ll head out when you’re ready. *smiles softly, pleased when you looked more yourself after getting changed, letting you open the car door for me and watching you as you drive, some peace seeming to settle within you and it reminding me of when you were young, you having loved all the old cars* *we get to the bakery, feeling like it had been over 3 years since you’d been here, knowing I came and updated the women every so often about how things were going but I knew you loved this place, especially the owner before she died, glad to see it was still here and you still felt so comfortable* *smiles warmly at you as you open the door* Thanks, love. *grins before you get caught by the women at the counter, chuckling at Martha and Helen as they hug you so tight, loving that this women loved you as much as I did* - Bonnie

*shocked to see you, it having been years since you’d been to the bakery, Bonnie telling us all about you throwing yourself into the world of business and how you’d lost yourself a little, even now I could see you weren’t happy and that broke my heart, remembering how you were such a lost and sad little boy and how much we cherished your rare smiles, particularly Jean, she would do anything she could to make you smile when she was alive* Goodness!! You’ve grown a foot! *mumbles and rants as I hug you* Leaving us so long without getting a good look at you! Here, take a seat and we’ll fetch you your favourites. *gives you a gentle push but grinning as I go back to the counter and call through to the kitchen* Han, love. Bring us out some of those fresh macarons would you dear? We’ve got a special guest! *calls through, grinning* Hannah’s Jean’s daughter. I’m sure she told you all about her, you’re around the same age I think, she’s been helping us out this week. -Helen

*I was just finishing up putting some cinnamon buns in the oven, wiping my cheek and leaving a little streak of flour there, my curls up in a clip and wearing a casual comfy outfit as I look up as Helen calls out and grinning at the joy in her voice, both Martha and Helen were always so happy, it was infectious when I was around them* *begins to gather the fresh macarons, some lemon, some raspberry and a special dark chocolate one I’d invented, grabbing two trays and coming out to the front of the bakery behind the counter, grinning* Here we are..*says with a smile before my eyes scan and lock on you stood there, heart seizing in my chest and looking totally stunned as I freeze, breath hitching and blinking slowly as thoughts race through my head, wondering how you were here? were you here for me?* *my heart begins to pound fiercely at being so close to you, stomach twisting with want and feeling all the buried emotion rush back into my chest, throat tightening with just wanting to run into your arms, the pain and confusion of the last week flooding back but also the desire, the warmth of seeing you again was fighting to be heard, caught in your gaze* J-Jackson...? *trails off, looking at both the ladies before seeing Bonnie, wondering if this had been organised* H-How did you know I was here?

[chamberedbeauty]

What would she have said?

God. There were a million things she wished she could have, especially to her own mother and her nauseating group of friends that always seemed to be marking their territory around her house. But all Gwen can do is shrug, because how could she tell him everything she knew she felt and believed him to be when his heart was breaking? "To shut up?" It comes with another shrug and a small smile, hoping at her features could say what it meant. That there was so much more, just not enough time. There's never enough time anymore. "I wish I did," she whispers when he asks about his honor. "Just like you did mine..."

When there is nothing more to say, Gwen retreats. The goal to iron that godawful jacket in mind, but she needed to think. Needed to clear her head, and the rain always helped. Maybe, just maybe, it'd wash the sins of what she had done to him away. Maybe she could be clean.

Everything hurts. There's no denying that, yet she can't help to feel selfish. How much is Bucky hurting. He has more to lose, but he's not crying. He's together. The rock, the caretaker. He's everything everyone else needs him to be, and her crying out here wasn't doing anything to help him. But god was it helping her.

She's not sure how long she stays out, until the rain has her shivering and she's soaked to the bone. Until she's gathered up the fire in her body to press him on what she wants. Until she's ready to face him. Quickly Gwen turns and throws open her door, ready to go find him, ready to tell him exactly what was on her mind.

But she does not expect to find him sitting on her bed, her towel in hand. She does not expect him to look so defeated, not when she's ready for his heat. She does not expect him to take care of her...but shouldn't she? When for years that's all he's ever done.

In an instant her anger is gone and when he holds his arms out to her, she goes. She doesn't take into account of the way she's presented herself to him. A mess of a woman is what her mother would always call the women who acted like this- how horrified would she be if she could see her daughter right now. Eyes puffy and red from crying, dripping wet, and shivering. Her nightgown clung to her, doing very little to save any modesty she once had. All in front of a man who was not her fiance, but the Brooklyn boy her parents couldn't stop her from running with all her life.

Her eyes close, a shuddered breath leaving her as his lips heat her cheeks, unsure if it was from the cold itself or from the immunity she once thought she had around Bucky Barnes. When he pulls her to him, she discards her robe, a heavy flop of the soaked silk slapping against floor. Her head falls to his shoulder, letting her eyes close, and suck up all the comfort he was gracious enough to give her. Taking in all she wanted...all she needed from him like the selfish and blind woman she was.

She takes in his scent, feels his heartbeat, and is further gifted with his promise. Slowly Gwen pulls away just enough to look at him, her fingers coming up to softly trail over his cheek and jaw. Looking at him. Looking at her Bucky. "I know," Gwen whispers back. "...I won't let it not be." Lips give a quick small smile. "You can't get rid of me. No matter how hard you try...you can try and run, but I'll always find you. Even if it's generation after generation...I'll always find you. And everything will always be alright. From the moment you helped me with Steve in that alley and gave me that stupid smile, I was yours."

Arms wrap around him, burying her face in his neck for a moment. "Damn you for even trying to rid yourself of me..." Slowly Gwen raises her head, and it's her turn now to kiss across his cheek and make him a promise. Her head pulls back to look at him, her fingers softly brushing his temple, against the small scar he'd said was from falling off his bike when reality she knew it was a right hook given to him by his father. "You...You are going to be okay. You hear me? When you come back...everything will work itself out. I know it will. I promise." Because she wouldn't be able to live if it didn't. She glances down, looking at the soaked front of his shirt where he was holding her, then down to her nightgown to see just how little she was covered. Instantly the woman blushes, tucking her head back to his neck. "I'm sorry...I'm getting you just as soaked as I am." Her head shakes and carefully Gwen stands, taking the towel to cover herself. "Let me change a-and I'll-" she pauses, but this time a smile comes to her lips. "....You still won't give me the rest of your clothes, will you?"

[lokisprettygirl]

Needy (Loki x Female Reader)

Summary : You and loki reflect upon your relationship, million things to say to each other but you both feel too needy to say them out loud.

Warning: Fear of abandonment, past trauma

Note : I may consider doing a part two, this is self indulgence at best

You never understood why he chose you of all people, there was nothing special about you, you were just a random girl. If you stood amongst the crowd of a hundreds of women you were pretty sure nobody would crown you with miss pretty of all people so it was hard for you to wrap your head around the fact that the god of mischief wanted you, that he was attracted to you and that he saw you more than just one night of affair. But as the time went by and you felt loved by him, as you felt appreciated by him every day you slowly started to believe that maybe the froglet did get to kiss the prince this time around.

Your relationship with him wasn't perfect, he was a man full of mysteries and a severely tormented past. It took you a long time to get through him, once in a while he would distance himself but he returned to you always. 

He was loyal and kind, he cared about you more than anything and you felt that in your heart deep down but you weren't perfect either, people had abandoned you before, one day you had them telling you how much they loved you and the next day they just didn't want you in their life anymore so they ditched you, betrayed you, hurt you. 

Sometimes you missed the clear signs of the approaching abandonment. The usual fading you out slowly, the I forgot to see your text, the I didn't have time to call, the I was busy all day, the you're too sensitive. You missed them because you were blinded by your love for them but with time and experience you had learned to read those signs.

And that's why on a vacation to Bali with Loki and the group of Avengers, as you sat and watched him converse through several people at once, you felt neglected and ignored. He was handsome as ever ofcourse, you all were at the beach party and he had a white shirt on that you gifted him recently, he kept it unbuttoned, his toned midriff flexed with every puff of his breath. Thor sat next to him and they had a bunch of ladies trying to earn all of their attention. You were at the bar getting a drink and even with music blaring you could hear the sound of his laughter coursing through the open surrounding.

You looked around and saw Bucky and Natasha cozying up, the captain had a lady on his lap, Clint and Sam had something going on between them, and ofcourse Tony was being Tony. He had booked the beach for a private party and with private parties came the models, the models that currently were salivating over your boyfriend. 

Your eyes teared up as you sipped on your drink, all of a sudden you felt out of your element, you didn't belong there, you weren't supposed to be there but Loki asked you to join him and after two years of your time with him that's exactly what you needed, a break away from your busy lives and work, his job as an Avenger kept him busy and you had controlled every last bit of your neediness to not make him run away too. 

You figured that after a point of time your emotional neediness and wanting constant assurance from people around you was what drove them away from you so you tried to keep it at bay with Loki, you didn't want to go through another heartbreak, you loved him beyond limits and you weren't ready to lose him too but watching him as a model leaned over the bean bag he was sitting on, you couldn't help but feel needy, she was gorgeous, she wanted him you could tell.

Did he want her? You couldn't tell that but as you looked at her a little longer you wondered why wouldn't he want her? and then you wondered that if it wasn't for you would he fuck her? He must, you heard it all from the gossip mill, the way he used to have a flock of women surrounding him all the time before he met you and you couldn't help but worry if he missed that sort of freedom in his life? 

Saying that he was gorgeous would be an insulting understatement, he was a god, a royal prince, a noble Avenger that saved lives now, even before he became one, his reputation as war criminal wasn't something that stopped people from lusting after him, women and men all around the world were desperate to spend one night with him and could have gotten to any length to have a little taste of him, you didn't blame them but then it didn't stop you from feeling inferior.

You felt so needy in that moment as your eyes welled up more and more, you knew you'd lose him someday. It wasn't a matter of if but when, he'd get bored or disinterested, you would do something or say something that would annoy him and that would be it. He would not love you anymore.

"Mmmm you're so handsome babyy.. I gotta tell you that have heard a lot about you" the tall brunette leaning over him giggled as she winked and he couldn't help but chuckle. He had gotten used to the attention he received on Midgard, some cared to stay low-key but there were times like this when women just didn't care to even pretend that they didn't desire him or that they weren't thinking about him fucking them senseless. 

"Well all the good things hopefully" he sipped on the drink in his hand as he smirked. A few years ago he might have flirted with her back and forth and taken her to his room but he didn't have to do that anymore, he didn't have to kill his lonely nights into the arms of strangers who only cared for him as long as his cock worked in and out of them.

Now he had you, the first time he saw you amidst the thousands of people he had an inclination, you seemed different, not like the women he surrounded himself with. You seemed kind and generous, adorable at times when you opened up to him and showed him several different shades of you, he found you intriguing and he knew to capture the attention of a woman who wanted more than just one night of fling he'd have to change his ways and show you that he wanted the same.

That he wanted someone he could go to bed with but also wake up alongside, that he wanted a woman he could protect, care and love with everything he owned, that he needed someone to calm him down when he felt his world spinning around him and you did that for him. That's when he fell hard and he knew he'd only grow to love you more and more everyday.

But a few thing never changed. The dark voice in his head always told him that he'd never be enough for you, that with his past and everything he had suffered he'd never be normal, that if he were to show you those parts of him you'd turn your back on him and you'd stop loving him. He felt needy and that's why every time those feelings resurfaced he'd distance himself from you so you won't have to bear the burden of his issues, so you'd continue to love the parts of him that were still lovable. He wanted to keep you for as long as he could before one day you would get fed up of him and leave. It was a matter of when and not if. He knew someday you won't love him anymore and he'd lose you.

"Wow, are you listening to me?" the lady over him clicked her fingers and he stopped thinking for a moment.

"I am..as much as I think you're pleasing to look at I am fortunately taken by a very lovely woman" 

"You're taken?" She chuckled as if she couldn't believe him, as if the thought of God of mischief belonging to someone was an alien concept. As if him having a woman willing to love him was absurd to think about.

"You heard what he said lady, piss off now would you?" Thor said to her and she huffed as she turned around to leave, Loki chuckled and patted on his brother's shoulder, thanking him silently. His eyes glanced over you and you chugged on your drink then he saw you storming off so he followed you immediately.

"Y/n?" You heard him calling your name so you turned around and smiled, it was as fake as it could be but you didn't want to tell him that you were overthinking and questioning his love for you "What's wrong love?" He asked you as he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you closer, you had a summer dress on that he got for you before you two got here and the moment you put it on he has only been thinking about taking it off your body. 

"Nothing I just wanted to rest, music was too loud" you said to him and he hummed. He could sense that you were lying to him, he could always tell.

"Is that it?" He asked you and you nodded, you kissed him softly before you pulled away from him "You can go back and enjoy the party i'm fine..I'll be in the room" you said to him as you tried your best to not think in the moment, because you knew your eyes would tear up and give it all away. He'd know that you were emotionally needy and run away like they all did. 

"Ummm okay..call me if you ..need me" he mumbled and his voice was shaky, he didn't know what he had done but he knew he had done something, he had done something to drive you away from him, his heart tumbled up and down as the anxiety overwhelmed him, he knew he had fucked up somehow and that you had realised that he was too much for you. Too needy.

You turned around to leave and your eyes filled up with tears because you wanted to hold him and tell him everything that bothered you. 

As the distance grew between you two, his eyes teared up and he mumbled a meek little confession of love but you couldn't hear him, he wanted to say it before but he felt too needy, he knew you'd say it back even if you didn't even love him anymore.

He knew you'd say it to appease his neediness.

[erodasfishtacos]

~ MLB Curious Gazes ~

prompt: four different situations where people have run into or hung out with MLB!H - told from their perspective.

word: 6k +

warnings: language, mentions of sexual content

If you enjoyed this please - reblog, like, recommend, comment, and inbox me to chat about it!

please consider donating to my kofi - my work is FREE and it is a great way to show support!

enjoy!

-=-=-=-=-=-

The Doctor’s Office

Aubrey couldn’t believe her eyes as she sat in her uncomfortable, too small chair in the empty waiting room at the OBGYN office in the early hours of the morning. 

She was sitting alone with her baby boy sitting in his carrier on the floor - it was his nine month checkup and it was taking forever to be seen.

The woman was sitting, scrolling on her phone when out of her peripheral she saw an extremely - like extremely handsome man step into the area with a carrier.

Aubrey was a married woman but holy shit this guy was hot- without even trying is the thing. 

He had on a New York Yankees Nike hoodie and a pair of Nike athletic shorts with some calf length Blake Nike socks and trainers.

In the carrier was a fresh little baby, couldn’t be older than three months who was bundled up with a sunflower headband on.

The man was multitasking with a curly haired toddler on his other hip as he finds a seat a little bit down from Aubrey on the opposite side.

His wife was standing up at the check-in and of course it made sense that she was absolutely beautiful as well even though Aubrey could relate to how tired she looked.

The woman still had a small bit of her pregnancy bump left signifying that the baby was indeed very very new to the world.

She keeps glancing over at the man, he looks so familiar but she would remember if she had even met someone that handsome.

Then the context clues hit her, his hoodie, his toddler son was also in a little Yankees hoodie that matched his fathers and Aubrey googled quickly.

Her eyes flitted throughout the recent articles.

Styles’ Alleged $65 Million Dollar Bonus

Hot Head Harry Styles - how he managed to start three bench clearing brawls in one game!

Breaking Records and Bats - Styles manages to break his own record in the same season followed by breaking a bat in celebration

Holy shit.

She could help but watch them - this was much more interesting than reading a magazine.

Aubrey didn’t follow baseball but Harry had turned celebrity status and was this well known cocky dickhead to the media - women and men loved and drooled over him for his looks and his skills.

Right now, he sat down with his two babies - the boy looked exactly like Harry, it was quite unbelievable from the curly locks to mossy green eyes that was copy and paste.

Harry was currently tucking an applesauce pouch between his lips and guiding the boy's small hands to hold it for himself.

“Good job,  ,” He murmurs in the dead quiet waiting room as he tucks him further into the crook of his arm.

Harry looks up to his wife who joins them, she is a bit in awe when Aubrey sees him palm a bit at her bloated belly and whisper, “Y’look gorgeous today, mama.”

Aubrey couldn’t help but frown, she wished her husband did that.

YN sits down, leaning her head on his shoulder - Aubrey didn’t know her but she seems tired - of course she was a new mother.

The silence is broken when a nurse comes out and with an apologetic face says, “I’m sorry, we are running really behind today. It might be another thirty minutes,” before shutting the door again.

Harry kisses his wife’s forehead before wrapping his unoccupied arm around her shoulder, a flashing gold band on his ring finger.

Aubrey zones off for a little when her son wakes up, rocking the carrier a few times before he settles again.

She’s brought back to the couple when she hears a sniffle comes from Harry’s wife and his face turned towards hers, hand rubbing her shoulder reassuringly.

“Mama, she’s so healthy. There’s nothin’ to worry about, did a perfect job growing her in y’belly. I know these check-ups make you anxious but nothin’ is gonna be wrong,” He soothes, a near whisper because of how quiet the room is and he didn’t want to disrupt.

“I just don’t know if she’s been getting enough milk, it’s so hard to tell,” YN replies sadly, like she’s disappointed in herself.

“Y’kidding me? She’s our chunkiest baby - look at those little rolls. She’s on y’tits more than any of the boys including me,” He jokes softly, obviously trying to make her feel better.

It seems to work a little bit because she lets out a light giggle with a roll of her eyes, “No one is on them more than you.”

Harry shrugs unashamed before replying seriously, “Everything will be okay. She’s perfect and healthy.”

The curly haired little boy gets a bit squirmy with the wait after he finished his pouch, asking to be set down which his father does.

Harry is watching him carefully, his nervous but still adventurous little two and a half year old, as he toddles around the waiting room.

When he spots Aubrey and her carrier, he wanders over looking up her with wide curious eyes, he points at her son and squeaks, “Baby?”

Ever the diligent father, Harry is up and next to his son, Aubrey is a bit starstruck if she’s honest when he talks to her.

“M’sorry, he’s a curious little one,” Harry smiles at her, going to pick Ezra back up to guide him away from bothering her.

Aubrey waves her hand though, lifting the visor to show the sleeping baby, “Yeah, he’s a baby. That’s Dominic.”

The boy gazes at the baby before lisping, “Bry!”

Aubrey isn’t sure what he means but his father clarifies, “You’re right, Dominic is a baby just like your little sister Briar.”

“Okay,” Ezra shrugs and goes back to his mom to inform him of what he just discovered before crawling up and cuddling into her chest.

Harry nods, “Thanks for indulging him.”

“No pro-problem,” She stutters like an idiot and Harry smiles a bit like he knows but doesn’t say anything else before going back to his family.

A few minutes later when a high-pitched cry resounds through the room, Harry is carefully cradling his daughter who Aubrey notes looks nothing like him but like her mother even though her features were still so little.

“Shush, darlin’,” Harry coos with a soft drawl, leaning in to kiss at the newborn’s button nose.

Briar roots at her father’s chest, smacking her plump lips, and squeaking in frustration when she doesn’t find a nipple. It makes Harry chuckle before he glances at his wife and his smile falters a bit, “Sweetheart, did y’bring a bottle?”

Aubrey watches his wife shake her head, she is facing away from her so she can’t see her expression but gauging Harry’s it seems that she may be upset, “No, I completely forgot. I didn’t bring my nursing blanket either - I’m going to have to go the bathroom. M’being such a bad mom.”

The observer feels a pang in her chest, she can definitely relate to not always feeling like she is a good mother because of little mistakes she makes like forgetting diapers, buying the wrong formula, forgetting to bring a pacifier.

“Hey,” Harry’s voice is firm, “Y’not going to talk like that when s’the farthest thing from the truth. S’okay, we have four babies, we’re both goin’ t’forget things sometimes, okay? Here, let me help you.”

Aubrey wishes she had a husband who was as empowering, supportive of his wife.

He hands the whimpering baby over to his wife, he’s then tugging off his hoodie. Aubrey tries but fails to divert her eyes when his shirt rides up revealing  a glimpse of his taut abdomen and a light dusting of hair leading into his shorts, obscene tattoos covering his hipbones .

Harry maneuvers the hoodie over his wife’s shoulder, helping her tug down her loose shirt and nursing bra, and guiding his newborn to his wife’s breast until she latches and starts suckling hungrily.

“There y’go mama,” He whispers encouragingly before tugging Ezra back onto his lap to rock him a bit as he’s getting whiny - ready for a nap soon and not liking being in an unfamiliar place for too long.

-

Aubrey is buckling Dominic into his carseat when she spots the other family exiting the office. 

Harry’s wife looks much more relaxed, a smile on her face, and her arm tucked around her husband’s narrow hip, they’re parked close to each other, and Aubrey climbs into her small sedan - blasting the aircon.

She watches the parents strapp their kids into a massive, tinted and brand new cadillac escalade that was no doubt over a hundred thousand dollar car but who could expect them to be driving around a mid-level minivan?

After the kids are secured and they close the doors, Harry presses his wife up against it with his arm resting over her shoulder against the window. He is whispering to her, their mouths close before he ducks down to connect their lips.

His hand comes back to her deflating baby bump like he did in the doctor’s office, hand massaging the skin with adoration that was visible even to Aubrey as she sat in her car watching them.

Later on in the week, as she sits on her couch, a video pops up on her timeline. It’s a sports report she was about to skip until the name caught her attention. 

The sports reporter stated, “Harry Styles was fined an alleged sixty thousand dollars at last night’s game after getting into a verbal altercation when the second base man purposely tripped him.”

It flashes to the man she just saw in the doctor’s office in a form-fitting Yankee’s blue and white striped uniform with a helmet on as he ran at an impressive speed from first to second, stumbling when the baseman put out his foot.

Harry recovers quickly enough to touch the base to be considered safe. 

After that though, he’s pushing himself up and brushing off the dirt, then he’s charging towards the man who fucked up the play. 

He has no fear as he gets in the man’s face, veins on his neck standing out as he shouts. They don’t play the audio but you could tell Harry was cussing this man up and down.

It flashed back to the reporter speaking to another, “Nearly every team in the league reports that Styles is an absolute nightmare to play against from his skill to his downright arrogant and cocky attitude. He’s not someone I’d find myself wanting to hang around.”

“I agree with you there, Tucker. He has a right to be proud with all of his broken records and achievements but being a bit humble would do this man so good. I feel sorry for his wife and kids. He probably just spends all day bragging about himself.”

Aubrey clicks off the video, if only everyone in the world just saw the Harry Styles she saw just a few days ago - well they’d all change their minds on what kind of person he is. Especially what kind of husband and father.

--

The Charity Event

It was a charity event at Madison Square Garden in Time Square. 

It was for all Major League Baseball teams who had qualified for the playoffs and of course, The New York Yankees were there.

There were tables filling the whole stadium, extravagant in white linen tablecloths, multiple bars, and it was black tie dress code. 

It was a private event and it was not open to the public but after the dinner there would be awards given out and that would be broadcasted.

Nicole was there with her husband, Trent, the left outfielder with an average batting score. He wasn’t the most popular on the team by far - well everyone got outshined by Styles. 

She couldn’t help but be a little bitter that Harry had gotten a $60 million dollar bonus (the biggest bonus ever gifted but also the Yankees were not taking any chances at losing their star and their ultimate money-maker). Trent got a measly bonus of $100,000 which was nothing in baseball terms. 

The wives and girlfriends of the Yankees players did not like YN one bit. It really wasn’t fair because she was always lovely, kind, and friendly. It didn’t matter because they were all spurred on by jealousy of what she had.

Nicole couldn’t help by gaze at Harry as they sat at the same circle table towards the podium where the awards would be presented after dinner. He was in a sharp all black suit with a small team logo pin of the lapel.

She couldn’t deny how stunning YN looked in an absolutely stunning dress. It was a one-shoulder with sparkling black stripes against a tan background, it fit like a glove and accentuated her stunning legs with a high slit. ***

It blew Nicole’s basic black Gucci dress out of the water which made her even more infuriated at the woman. She knew she was being irrational and if she hated her so much, why couldn’t see stop staring at the couple?

Nicole could get away with it by looking past them at other tables but to be quite honest, the two were much too wrapped up in each other to be aware of any of their surroundings or people watching them.

Trent was off bullshitting with all the other players while the Styles’ sat at the table and Harry waited for people to approach him - like the cocky asshole that he was. He would give them a minute of his time before becoming visibly bored and returning his attention back to his wife.

As the appetizers arrived, Trent finally sat down with a grunt, giving his wife literally no attention as he dug into the salad like a slob. 

Across the table, Harry looked down at his plate, picked out all the tomatoes and stabbed them with his fork. He then brought his hand over to his wife who giggled and let him feed her the three little tomatoes for his salad.

“Don’t like tomatoes, Styles?” Henry, third-baseman, jokes as he watches him feed his wife without any shame.

“I love ‘em, m’missus just really like the little grape ones,” Harry shrugs casually - like that didn’t just sound like the most whipped thing that he could say.

Trent probably couldn’t even guess Nicole’s favorite color - let alone know something so minuscule like YN like the little tomatoes that come on house salads. 

Throughout the whole dinner, it was quite disgusting how infatuated these two were with each other - Harry had at least one hand on her body at one time - her thigh, shoulder, even cupping her neck in a way that was almost too intimate for the setting.

At one point, Harry notices that YN is a bit quiet - sipping on her glass of water and he pulls back from the conversation, murmuring, “Y’alright, mama?”

Nicole bites her lip hard at the cute pet name, feeling even more dislike towards YN - why couldn’t she have had someone like Harry?

“D’you think the babies are okay? Ezra’s been so anxious lately,” YN replies quietly, there were no phones allowed at the event and had to be left at home or at the door.

Harry kisses her temple, “Y’know Ezzie is good with m’mum, doesn’t get as anxious as he used to at sleepovers. Y’know East and Cash are probably on a sugar high.”

YN nods, agreeing and Harry jumps right back into the conversation but she notices that he keeps looking over at his wife to check on her.

Trent accidentally knocks her elbow hard and just grunts out a bland, “Sorry.”

The topic changed to traveling for games. Ellie, another wife of a player who was nice to YN were chatting about how stressful it is.

“I know, loading all three boys up is rough when we do decide to travel to games with H,” YN says to Ellie, a small smile on her face.

“Ugh, I know. Lily and Parker are the worst flyers! They usually end up throwing up or not being able to nap at all,” Ellie groans about her two little ones she has back at home.

YN let’s out a laugh that just irked Nicole to not end.

“It's going to be even harder when we have more kids,” YN laments like she’s bothered.

“Oh? More kids?” Ellie squeaks with excitement, clapping her hands together.

Nicole reaches a breaking point, jumping into the chat,“Really? More kids? Don’t you think you should focus on the ones you have? Or do you think because your husband makes an unfair amount of money, you can just have as many as you want? Hire nannies and act like you take care of them?”

Before YN frowns, about to respond when Harry interjects with a booming, displeased voice, “First off, why don’t y’mind your own fuckin’ business. My wife and I can ‘ave any many kids as we want, last time I checked.”

He continues with tense posture, all of his previous calmness disappears, “Second off, don’t take it out on my wife tha’ your husband got a shit bonus, we all know tha’ why y’pissy. And don’t act like y’dont have a nanny for your one kid while we don’t nor ever will have one.”

Nicole sneers, “You’re a cocky bastard.”

Harry smiles in faux charm, “Of course I am, dear. I’ve got a fucking beautiful wife, three healthy babies, the most records broken in history, and the fattest bank account in this room.”

“Alright, alright,” Trent interrupts and it doesn’t go unnoticed that he doesn’t defend his wife. Instead he shoots Harry an apologetic look for his wife’s behaviors.

Harry just scoffs at the couple, rudely rolling his eyes, and tugging his wife in for a kiss that’s a bit too intense but he can’t help himself, smiles against her lips when his wife pinches his thigh playfully.

He says (not quietly at all), “All these women are jealous of you, hm? S’cause you’re so beautiful and such a fuckin’ catch.”

Nicole feel a sharp pang in her chest at the indirect comment - fucking asshole.

Deep down, Nicole is unfavorably realizing that somehow YN has it all - a loving husband, who is seemingly head over heels four her, three well-behaved children, and everything she could ever want - sitting on Harry’s $600 million dollar net worth, on top of being gorgeous.

She didn’t have that. Trent and her were on the rocks constantly, has definitely cheated on her, their kid is a literal nightmare, and they’re both so reckless with money they have no savings.

It made her jealous to see Harry whispering in YN ear to make her giggle- lips brushing her ear, his hand splayed across her bumcheek while they waited for drinks at the bar, she even hears them murmur ‘I love yous’ at least twice.

Then the lights dim, spotlight on a podium in the front of the room, an older man in a crisp navy suit taking the stage.

“It is an honor for me to announce ‘Player of the Year.’ The decision by the board of Major League Baseball wasn’t a hard one. The statistics and records broke continuously by the man has led us to only one option.”

Everyone watches all the other players in room deflate a bit because they realize the award is going to Harry yet again.

 “He is again breaking a record tonight, he is the first player to earn this achievement four years in a row. The duality of this man when it comes to pitching a curveball or hitting a homer is truly remarkable.”

It makes all the players even more irritated than they already are when they look over at Harry who’s sitting back, manspreading, hand on the back of his wife’s neck gently, and a cocky, unbothered grin.

Like this award wasn’t the biggest accomplishment he could earn.

One of the players from an opposing team at a different table mutters to one of his teammates, “Fucking arrogant asshole. The only thing this award does is feed his gigantic ego.” 

“Such a douchebag,” The other agrees, jealousy tinges his voice.

“I’ve most likely made it obvious who the the recipient is this year. The New York Yankees pitcher with the most strikeouts to date and top-scoring hitter - Mr. Harry Styles!”

The crowd erupts in applause, whistles, and a standing ovation because despite his unsavory demeanor - no one could deny he was a legend.

Before he gets up, Nicole watches as he cups his wife’s cheek - locking her lips in a kiss before she has to give him a playful shove when he tries to slip some tongue.

When Harry gets up to the stage, he shakes the hand of the announcer and takes the award from him, setting it on the podium.

“Fourth year in a row has a nice ring to it,” Harry gives the crowd a dazzling white smile that have his dimples digging into his cheek.

The crowd whistles and coos.

Nicole notices YN getting teary-eyed as she watches her husband accept the award.

“I want t’thank a few people tonight. I want t’thank m’wife and the mama of my babies - YN. She’s supported me from when I was in college with no other career path but baseball, unsure of if I’d fail or not, she stuck through it.”

She can sense everyone’s eyes dart over to YN who is still staring up at her husband - who is giving her a gleaming smile right back.

“We’ve been through some really hard obstacles in our first years as a couple but she’s the reason for all this - the fact that she always believed in me when I didn’t believe in myself.”

The audience is respectful, quiet as he publicly tells a story of his deep love for his wife.

“I want t’thank m’three babies. Easton, Cash, and Ezra. They inspire me to be a better better man and a good role model - even though I think y’all agree they won’t be if they watch too much how I play when I’m out in the field.”

The crowd erupts in laughter at Harry poking fun at his own antics that he’s most famous for. He goes on to thank the team, coaches, Nike, everyone on the professional side of career.

When he’s done, everyone stands back up to congratulate him, patting him on the back as he returns to his seat.

Nicole watches as Harry sits back down, chuckling as he swipes a tear off his wife’s cheek, “Why y’crying, mama?”  

“I’m just so proud of you. Everything you do for me and our babies. The best husband, best daddy. My heart is just full,” She murmurs, clearly not meant for others to hear but Nicole was eavesdropping.

Harry’s eyes darken with something Nicole can’t identify but does notice his hand creeping a bit further up her thigh.

He leans into whisper something into her ear before she sees his lightly nip at her lobe before pulling back to join into the conversation.

-

After the lights come back up, Trent abandons her to go shoot the shit with other guys.

When she trails off to the bathroom, down a long hallway from the main area - she hears a rustling from behind a door labeled with a plaque that says ‘executive meeting room’.

Nicole pauses confused, all these offices and other rooms were strictly off limits during events obviously. She was confused to hear someone in a room that was not supposed to be in use.

Then she realizes it’s not just someone - it’s two people.

“S’good, sweetheart. Give it t’me so good.”

And she knows right then and there all she needs to know about who’s in that conference room and what they were doing.

“Be quiet, you’re being too loud,” YN scolds back, the walls were clearly thin because she could hear the exchange.

“Make y’cunt not feel like heaven then,” He remarks back, his voice slower and more soft than it would be in front of people.

God, Trent and her haven’t slept together in ages - let alone has spontaneous hookups or dirty talk like that ever.

When they all end up back at the table before the closing speech for the night, Nicole spots a nicely sized mark under Harry’s jaw that he’s wearing with pride.

YN had her lipstick wiped off and was much more clingy as the night rolled on which Harry seemed to thrive on.

As she and Trent are on their way home, Nicole speaks into their silence, “I don’t think our relationship is working.”

Not after she saw love and happiness at that event table tonight - she wanted that kind of love not settling for some cheating asshole.

-

The Little League Game

It was a cool autumn evening, it was an important game - if you could call it that for the little league team that Kayla had her son on.

The goal was to determine which team would move onto the playoffs, even though most of this was all in good fun because it was for eight-year-olds and it wasn’t serious.

Kayla couldn’t lie and say that she didn’t spend some of the time curiously gazing at the New York Yankees player who would come to watch his son play.

He wasn’t at every game due to his schedule but it seemed like he came to whatever ones he could with his wife and other three kids.

They had taken the bench on the bleachers right below her so she had an up close and personal view of the family when they’ve never sat this close before.

As the kids warmed up, Harry had his youngest son who looked to be about four sit next to him, squished between his dad and mom happily.

Their middle son was next to his mom on the other side, looking to be about six, and he was wriggling impatiently in his seat - eager to join the other kids in the jungle gym.

The baby girl who looked about a year and a half old didn’t look anything like her brothers - it was obvious that she was a spitting image of her mother (who was stunning).

She was curled up in her mom’s lap, asleep with her face squished against her mother’s chest - a pacifier suckling fiercely between her puffy lips.

“Mama, please,” The curly haired boy begs with greedy puppy dog eyes as he keeps glancing back to look at the other kids.

“You stay right where daddy and I can see you, yes?” YN murmurs, brushing back his unruly curls that where getting long, “And what are our rules?”

“Stay where you can see, don’t talk to strangers, and be nice to others,” He recites perfectly, Kayla was a bit blown away by his manners.

She watches baseball. It was hard to believe their children were so mild mannered when their father was the exact opposite - at least on the field.

Harry was rustling in the diaper bag for something as his son looked at him with wide, concerned eyes, “My baby, daddy.”

“I know, Ezzie. M’lookin’ f’your baby,” His father replies softly, the polar extreme of his normal brash, crude language that had a nasty tone like he couldn’t bother giving people the time of day.

“Daddy, please,” The youngest whines, his little hand grasping at his father’s tattooed wrist as he gets to his knees to help his dad look.

“Left inner pocket,” YN murmurs offhandedly as she makes sure Cash gets to the playground safely with his friends.

“Say ‘thanks mama’,” Harry coos to his son as he manages to tug out the baby doll and hand it to the awaiting little boy.

“Thanks mama,” He replies instantly with a gapped smile as he nuzzles right back into his father’s side as if he can’t get close enough.

“How are you feeling, Ezra?” His mother leans over to ask, keeping the baby close to her chest.

“M’happy, mama,” Ezra replies simply before starting to babble to himself as he plays with the babydoll.

Kayla watches Harry and YN swap a fond look at their son but she couldn’t help but wonder why they asked him that? He seemed fine so why did they feel the need to do that?

The game is going okay, Harry stands up to cheer and whistle when Easton hits a two-base hit but YN smacks his thigh and motions to their sleeping baby.

He looks at her sheepishly before sitting back down, kissing her cheek in apology, and peeking down into the fleece blanket to watch his daughter sleep for a moment.

Then it seems like Easton starts to lose momentum after he pitches two home-runs, his face pinched in disappointment as the other team scores but Harry is attempting to keep him motivated with encouraging shouts.

Easton struggles from then on, he strikes out for his final three turns, doesn’t catch two pop-ups, and his pitches start to get a little shaky. It’s obvious in his facial expression he’s getting upset because he’s breathing heavier like he’s trying not to cry.

Kayla feels a sense of dread for the little boy, his father who’s the best baseball player in modern day history is watching his son not do well during an important game.

 Because of what she knows of him from his temper and attitude on the field - she worries that he’s one of those father’s who will hound their kid for doing poorly.

“Oh, c’mon East,” Harry murmurs softly when his son stumbles over a ground ball before another kid picks it up and throws it in - their son smacking his glove down against the ground in frustration.

“He’s getting himself worked up,” YN notes as she watches her oldest kick his cleats in the dirt with a quivering bottom lip.

“I know,” Harry replies to his wife, “Wish he wouldn’t, he’s gettin’ upset out there, I can tell.”

“Sad?” Ezra squeaks, clambering onto his father’s lap and stating, “Hold me, daddy.”

Harry obliges easily, gathering up his small son before his attention is directed back onto the game - it was down to the last few minutes and unfortunately Easton pitched a ball that resulted in a home run for the other team.

“Fuck,” Harry mutters, running a hand through his messy locks before he’s setting Ezra back down on the bleachers, “I’m going to go talk to him. Do you want to meet back home?”

YN nods, leaning down to tuck the baby into the double stroller before buckling Ezra in as well, “I’m going to go get Cash and head out. Why don’t you take him out for some ice cream? I love you.”

“I love you too, mama,” He replies, kissing her softly before kissing both of his kids foreheads and stepping down the bleachers - ignoring all the adults who are staring at him with a starstruck expression as he heads to the dugout.

It cleared out fast, nobody sticking around after the loss that ended with them not continuing on to the championship, and Easton was sat on the bench - he was stoic and there was a hard, angry expression on his face that reminded Kayla of what she saw Harry look like when he played.

As she gathers up her son and makes sure he’s got all of his equipment, Kayla stands and chats to a few of the moms before she’s heading to her car - which happened to be parked next to a sleek Masserati crossover, who would let their muddy kid go in there? Rich people, she guesses.***

Kayla pops the trunk to her van with her key as they get closer, she notices that Harry also has his up and Easton is sitting on the tailgate with his eyes looking down at the pavement. She tries not to appear as nosey or eavesdropping as she tucks her items into the back.

“Sweetheart, s’okay. Y’did so so good tonight,” Harry assures his pouty son, he squats down to start to untie his son’s nike cleats but continues to make eye contact with him. 

“No, I didn’t, Daddy!” Easton whines, tears finally starting to bubble over the surface as he begins to sob with a shuddering chest, “I gave up home runs and then I missed ground balls!”

“Whoa, bubby,” Harry simpers after he tugs off the shoes and throws them carelessly into the back before standing up, “Y’did amazing, are you kiddin’? You did three innings of strikeouts, hit two of y’own homeruns. Y’played like a professional, way better than daddy.”

Kayla’s heart aches a bit when she sees Harry sit down next to him before hugging him harshly into his side, thumbing at the tears that are running down his son’s sweaty cheeks with soft reassurances.

“Daddy, are you mad I didn’t win?” Easton asks shakily, keeping his head buried into his father’s side and his small hand clutching into the fabric of his hoodie.

Harry chuckles lowly, “Daddy would never be mad at you f’anythin’, definitely not a baseball game. Remember what mama and I said? If at any point y’want to stop playin’, just let us know and we can find something else, yeah? Just like how Ezzie does art classes.”

Easton seems to calm down after a few moments of Harry rocking him and reassuring him of what an amazing son he is.

As Kayla drove away that night, her perspective on the all-star baseball player definitely changed. It was refreshing to see someone to not hold their child to an unreasonable expectation just like she thought Harry would.

--

The Campfire

Austin was the shortstop on the baseball team, he’d brought along his girlfriend, Chelsea, to the frat party to celebrate another win.

Everyone was in whispers that Harry was bringing his new girlfriend but nobody knew who she actually was because it was just a rumor.

It was surprising because Harry wasn’t a relationship kind-of man. He wasn’t into hookups much - always said he needed to focus on baseball.

Many of his teammates were envious of how many girls were constantly coming up to Harry at parties to flirt and try to get a dance in but he had always rejected them.

Harry had never showed interest in any of these girls at the parties, never seen him disappear upstairs with one or really entertain a conversation over a beer like they’d expect.

Chelsea pokes his shoulder and nods towards the entrance when Harry walks in with his arm around YN’s shoulder.

Most were in a little shock because they seemed like such an unlikely couple - YN had written some scathing articles about him and it was no secret he hadn’t been a fan of her.

“Holy shit, Harry’s dating YN?” Chelsea whispers to Austin as the group of party-goers cheer and whistle at the allstars appearance.

“Guess so,” Austin replies with a shrug, tugging Chelsea into the kitchen for a drink.

Later on that night, there’s a bonfire on one side of the backyard and a volleyball net on the other where a group was gathering to play.

Austin and Chelsea are on the opposing team of Harry and YN - she can’t help but watch them with curiosity because of what a surprise it is that they’re dating.

Even Austin has been watching because Harry’s acting in a way that he’s never seen throughout his time on the team with him.

Harry is just all over YN which was confusing how he went from not being remotely interested in the college girls to being a lovestruck puppy.

When she throws the ball up to serve, Harry reaches over and pinches her bum which makes her squeak and accidentally drop the ball which has him cackling as she glares at him.

As they change positions, he crowds up behind her, and massages her hips, leaning down to murmuring something in her ear.

She blushes wildly before smacking him off which has him laughing hard and kissing the back of her head before taking his position.

After Harry jumps and spikes the ball hard, earning them the winning point, YN turns around and wraps her arms around him to hug him tightly.

Harry wraps his arms around her shoulders, returning the hug before pulling back to kiss her lips in a soft peck.

Chelsea elbows Austin, “Who’s that and what did they do with Harry?”

Austin shakes his head, “I really don’t fucking know.”

The group migrates over to the fire as they might become cooler and the stars are high up in the sky, the fire flickering orange and yellow crackles of sparks.

Harry plops into a chair, pulling YN right onto his lap, and she wriggles until she’s comfortable. Chelsea notices him tap her thigh as if telling her to cut it out, too much motion right on his crotch.

Jake, one of his teammates, says in a teasing tone, “YN, I’m surprised to see you around these parts . I clearly remember a strongly worded article about how stupid frat parties are.”

YN takes it in stride, smiling as she replies, “And this party just proves my point.”

The group laughs easily, they enjoy YN’s sharp wit and comebacks as they get to know her. Austin can’t help but to notice how quiet Harry is.

Normally, he’s the life of the party, loud and making his presence known to everyone but not tonight. He has his chin propped on her shoulder and she’s cuddled back into his chest.

Austin can’t make out what Harry is saying but he’s constantly whispering in her ear and accentuating each time with a squeeze to her thighs.

“Are you guys official?” One of the teammates asked bluntly, a few beers deep by this point in the night.

Harry replies instantly, a possessive squeeze, “She’s mine and off the market, s’don’t even think about it.”

“Well I don’t think it matters because she’s turned down the whole baseball team by this point. I think everyone tried to ask her out at least once,” Steve jokes as the others agree.

“Tha’s m’girl,” Harry murmurs to her before teasing his friends,“Who’d want to go out with any you? You’re all dickheads.”

Everyone continues to joke around, it’s nearing midnight and that’s right about when Harry gets in his prime - like the party just started.

But not tonight.

YN’s eyes start to flutter shut as everyone banters and drinks around the fire, obviously not used to these late night parties.

“I better get this one t’bed,” Harry states after a few minutes, thumbing at YN’s cheekbone as she tries to stay awake.

“I’m okay,” She mumbles weakly, head still heavy against his shoulder.

“You’re coming back though, right?” Kyle asks expectantly, brows furrowed.

Harry shakes his head, “Nah, m’in for the night when she is.”

All the players look at him with a bit of a dumbfounded look, Steve shooting out, “Who knew you’d be so pussy whipped, Styles?”

Chelsea’s eyebrows raise at the crude comment, waiting with bated breath as Harry’s jaw clenches as it seems like he’s biting his tongue.

“Goodnight,” Harry says in a tone Austin has never heard before - agitated and almost…offended.

When Austin and Chelsea are sneaking up to his room for a late night hook-up, she overhears Harry and YN in his bedroom.

At first, she thinks they’re in an actual argument but as she listens to them - it’s not the kind of arguement she thought it was.

“You’re always the little spoon,” YN groans from behind the closed door.

Harry squawks, affronted before huffing back at her, “S’my favorite, please spoon me, darling?”

“You’re so fucking spoiled,” YN giggles as Chelsea assumes they move into a position where Harry’s the little spoon.

“Mm, I like feelin’ y’tits against my back, s’nice,” Harry hums with a boyish tone.

Chelsea doesn’t even realize she’s smiling until Austin drags her from her stupor. 

All she knew was that Harry Styles really really fancied that school reporter.

-=-=-=-=-=-

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