#i took today off because brain has been [toilet flush sound] but it’s back to business tomorrow fellas.

[the-darklings]

so i’m usually really bad about paying attention to milestones but this is one of those noteworthy ones where I feel it’s only right to thank people sooo

holy shit thank you for 10k followers honestly whaaaat

can’t believe so many of you are just chilling and hanging around here. thank you for supporting my silly little swamp and the writing floating around here. should I do some sort of celebration? no idea what, but it might be fun post-tibyim finale.

[jawllines]

Sorry to be annoying but I asked awhile ago and I think tumblr ate my ask but did you ever do tattoo Harry blurb? I love them and I miss them:( I’ve looked through your tags and there isn’t any on there if you have posted one

I CAN POST ONE I WROTE A WHILE AGO RIGHT NOW :D I DONT THINK I POSTED HERE BUT LET ME KNOW HERE YOU GO PET 

i.

“Baby -- baby, c’mon!”

It was rare that Harry ever woke Y/N with more than kisses and cuddles. Maybe an abrupt shoulder shake if the both of them slept through their alarms (and, considering that they are the only ones with the key to open up their own respective stores, they never typically arrived late facing happy employees -- or in Y/N’s case, employee -- Niall, in particular, was always more of a grump in that situation than Riktor even), but even that still managed to be tender, and soft. He always treated her so delicately, as if she were made up of porcelain in the morning and it was imperative to speak in a low, soothing voice with careful touches or she might shatter. And she really didn’t think it was because she was an absolute terror to wake up -- Y/N did quite well, even as early as 5 AM she was still in somewhat of a pleasant mood, certainly nothing to be fearful of -- she thinks he’s just gentle in the morning. He’s gentle all the time, but for some reason or another, he’s extra soft with her then.

They had both had a bit of a busy day, so by the time that they made it back to Y/N’s flat (Harry said he liked it there best because it smelled like her, and -- well, he softens her up and calls her Darling when he wants them to go over there, so it’s hard to say no), both of them were ready for bed. Neither of them could barely keep their eyes open as they scarfed down the burgers they’d picked up on the way home, and once they’d finished and brushed their teeth, they toppled into each other on the mattress. Y/N would reckon they both fell asleep before their heads had even hit the pillow -- she doesn’t even remember crawling beneath the blankets.

Apparently she had though, because now as her brain tunes in with the world around her and she realizes that the distorted voice that had begun to prod her dreams was actually a grumpy, dry throat Harry, she’s cuddling herself closer in the covers. This only makes him grumble at her more, “You’re such a blanket hog,” he whines and Y/N finally blinks her eyes open, being greeted with Harry’s disgruntled, pouted face illuminated by the sunlight beginning to slip through the blinds, “I’ve been trying to unravel it for like ten minutes, but you’re all wrapped up! I’m cold.”

Y/N smiles sleepily at him, not understanding the gravity of the situation entirely as she begins to un-burrito herself from the covers, “G’morning, beautiful,” she murmurs as she does so, finally disentangling from the blankets and while she was a little less warm, Harry was quick to wiggle in beneath them, “Sorry.”

“Don’ be sweet when m’tryin’ to be angry with you,” she puckers her lips at him dramatically, and though he sighs, he leans in and presses their mouths together softly, “Your kisses aren’t g’na sweeten me up, m’still grumpy, blanket hog.”

She can only hum as she cuddles closer to him, “Sorry,” she repeated, this time adding, “Like to swaddle myself like a lil’ baby. Reckon you weren’t holdin’ me well enough last night.”

An offended gasp leaves through his lips soundly, enough that it startles her, but his arms worm around her waist and draw her closer to his body, “Brat,” he grumbled, dipping his nose into her throat, “I held you so well and you just wiggled right out of my arms and took all the covers with you.”

“Like a worm -- I wiggled out like a worm or somethin’,” she tried to sit up but his arms tightened around her, “This worm has to pee though and she’ll soak the bed if she isn’t allowed.”

His arm loosens around her, “This worm sounds like she’s a sleepy sort of delusional that requires about two hours more of rest.”

Y/N stumbles toward the bathroom in her room, “Noooooooo,” she whines, frowning at nobody, not bothering to swing the door shut before she plops on the cold toilet seat to relieve herself, “We’re supposed to go get hot chocolate, no more sleep.”

“Baby, it’s 6 AM and I’ve been up the last 30 minutes freezing my bits off!” He calls back to her and she giggles some, her eyes trying to accommodate to the bright white lights of the bathroom, “Sleep just a bit more and we’ll get the hot chocolate when we wake up next.”

She waits until she flushes and washes her hands to respond to him, and though she knows that she is definitely going to crawl back in bed and fall asleep, she stands at the foot of it with her hands in fists at her hips. He had let his eyes flutter closed by then but she thinks he could feel her eyeballing him, so he looks up past the mountain of blankets now covering him so she could only see his eyes and his nose, “What’re you doing?”

“You’re telling me, you don’t wanna go at 6 AM, three hours before the kiosk even opens to get hot chocolate with me? You must really hate me, don’t you?”

He huffs a sharp breath through his nose which is how he usually laughs in the morning, when he can’t muster up the strength to have a proper giggle, “Absolutely loathe you, baby doll, but could you please come back to bed so I can loathe you in the warmth?”

It takes little persuading -- as she said, she knew she was just going to crawl right back in beside him -- and instead of relying too heavily on the blankets to provide her warmth (like wrapping up half of it around her so she was cocooned entirely. . .this is what she normally does, and she would say that’s probably why Harry almost never has any of the covers in the morning), she relies on him. Picks up his arm so that she can fit herself underneath it and lies her cheek on his chest, “Your pits better not be smelly.”

“I make no promises.”

.                             .                         .

“I love your hair.”

“Stop it, Sweetheart, I’m g’na start blushing.”

They had slept for four more hours rather than the two Harry had originally suggested, but that always happens with them. Y/N would say that they are just too content cuddled up with one another that they milk it for all it’s worth. If one of them wakes up before the other, then they just settle their head back down and close their eyes again. Unless they had somewhere to be, of course, but Harry had a free Saturday (no clients schedule, even though Saturday’s could often be some of his heaviest days) and he’d elected to spend it with her -- whether they were awake or asleep didn’t much mater, they just liked to be near each other.

When they finally did wake up, they lazily got dressed into about thirty layers so they wouldn’t freeze outside. The weather had grown frigid quite quickly this November, and neither of them stood the cold very well, but there was a park lined with little pop-up kiosks with hot chocolate, sweets, little holiday goodies, and an obscene amount of knitted blankets (it was a clever marketing tactic, Y/N thought -- everyone is more willing to spend money on a blanket when they’re freezing cold - she and Harry had certainly fallen for it today). Y/N bought them shoe warmers to keep their toes at least not numb, and Harry lets her borrow a pair of his gloves because she keeps forgetting to buy some of her own. They both have hats fitted over their heads too, and since Harry’s let his hair grow out, his curls stick out from beneath the pumpkin orange print and Y/N can’t stop staring at it. She’s always loved his hair, she told him as much one of the first nights they’d sat on her bookstore’s floor and talked about just a bit of everything. Back when she barely realized she had a crush on him. . . .when she didn’t know that in just a little time, she would be over the moon.

And she’ll never forget that people used to make him feel like shit about his hair, so she maybe overcompensates by telling him every time she has thought about loving it. Which means today, in the span of a short three hours they’d been awake, Y/N had complimented his hair about twenty different times. If she was running her fingers through it, fixing his beanie, or just staring at him, she let him know just how much she adored his curls.

“I hate to tell you this, Button, but your cheeks are already red as apples,” she shifted the paper cup of hot chocolate from her hand closest to him to the other, so she could reach up and tuck them behind his ear, that had reddened from the cold, “The air has you more bashful than I ever could.”

“Not true,” he murmurs, lowering his voice as he knocks closer to her ear, “I always blush when you go down on me.”

“God,” Y/N shakes her head, “You’re too much, d’ya know that?”

He laughs, nudging her with the cold tip of his nose, “You want the peppermint bark? We’re coming up on the seller.”

“Of course, I want peppermint bark,” she reaches for her wallet, “I’m stocking us up for the next hundred years or so.”

Harry slows for a moment, sliding his gloved hand into her own and squeezing, “Hey,” he begins, his voice soft, somewhat reflective and it brings her attention to him at her side, “Y’know when -- you remember how you said you just get random flushes of love for me and s’a whole lot and you just don’t know what to do with it?”

Y/N nods, “Yeah, like every waking minute practically. Why?”

He smiles shyly, “I’m having one of those moments.”

“For the peppermint bark?” She teases, but his brows furrow and he swats her shoulder playfully, “Hey!”

“I’m trying to be sweet on you, and you’re still going on about this bloody chocolate,” he rubs the arm that he swats, even though Y/N has so many layers on plus the blanket that she bought wrapped around her, that he made no real contact with her body.

Y/N pulls him in for a hug, narrowly avoiding a child running past them as she does so, “Oh, you know m’only kidding. I love you too, Bug, more than words can describe and ten times more than the chocolate I reckon. . .well, unless it’s made really well this year.”

“I’ll leave you here, blanket hog.”

[libraryofloveletters]

Daddy

You’re stubborn but so is your husband, what happens when two stubborn people fall in love?

Aaron Hotchner x Reader, brief appearance of dad!Rossi x Reader

Warnings: fem!reader, arguing, pregnancy, vomiting, cursing.

Category: Angst and fluff at the end

Word Count: 2.2k

Author’s Note: For the purpose of the fic, Aaron was never married to Haley and has no children. ps, my brain kinda flopped towards the end :(

------

The door slammed shut, you filched at the sound. “hun, is that you?” you leaned over the couch to see him walk into his office. You rolled your eyes, he had been ignoring you for the past week. You weren’t sure if it was because of work or if he was genuinely mad at you. You don’t remember doing anything that would cause him to be this mad at you for no reason. You assumed it was just work but even if it was, he would have already spoken to you about what was wrong. 

Every time you tried speaking to him, he’d walk away or go to his office and lock himself in there for the rest of the night, much like what he was doing right now. Walking into his office, you sat on the chair in front of his desk “how was work?” you propped your feet up on his desk. Usually this would earn you a warning look but instead he didn't even look up at you “it was okay” he turned his attention back to his paperwork. You both sat there, not speaking to each other, the only sound was Aaron scribbling away on his paper. Unable to stand the silence, you left his office and headed up to your bedroom. 

You took a seat on the bed, pulling your hair out of a bun. Leaning back against the pillow, your hand rested on your belly, rubbing it gently “peanut, I don't know what’s going on with your dad, he’s so cranky” you sighed. You hadn't told Aaron that you were pregnant yet, you wanted to surprise him, It’ll be hard to get him to pay attention to you for more than a few seconds. You didn’t want to spring it on him without knowing if something was going on with him. Getting up, you decide to take a shower to get your mind off of Aaron. Hopping in the shower, you began washing your hair. The bathroom door opened, you stuck your head out from behind the curtain. “Care to join me?” hoping he’d join you so you’d finally be able to talk to him. “No, I'll wait until you’re finished” he walked back out, closing the door behind him. You groaned and finished up in the shower, thinking of ways you could try and get him to talk to you. 

You wrapped the towel around you and stepped into your bedroom to get dressed. Smiling at the sight in front of you, Aaron had fallen asleep. Since you moved in together and even before that, you loved watching him sleep, in a non creepy way of course. His hair was messy, due to his tossing and turning, he had taken off his button up and was wearing a baby blue t-shirt. He wasn't frowning like he had been when he got home, he looked so peaceful but you knew you had to wake him up. He would complain the next day that you let him go to bed without showering. You shook his leg softly, he groaned and rolled over to the other side. You leaned over and shook his leg again “hun, I'm out of the shower” He sat up at the sound of your voice, he rubbed his eyes with the back of his hands. Aaron looked confused as to where he was, when he registered that he was in your bedroom, he got up and walked into the bathroom, shutting the door without even saying a word to you. You sat on the bed in your towel for a few minutes until you heard the shower turn on. 

Unsure what to do, you picked up your phone and dialled the one person you knew he’d turn to other than you. The line rang a few times before he picked up, “Hi y/n/n, what can I do for you” David sounded awfully cheery, you smiled at his tone. “Hi Dave, I just needed to talk, I wasn't sure who else to call. I hope I'm not interrupting anything.” “Of course you’re not, what’s going on?” You knew Aaron would be in the shower for a while but you stepped out of your bedroom just in case he got out earlier than expected. Sighing, you began to tell Dave the just of what was going on, how Aaron hadn’t been talking to you. “Why don’t come over for a bit ? I’m making dinner right now and we can talk. Just tell him I invited you over for dinner.” “Okay, I'll be there soon” “see you soon y/n” he hung up as you walked back to the bedroom. Aaron was still in the shower, you got dressed quickly and found a piece of paper, you wrote a little note for Aaron.

“Going over to Dave’s for dinner, I'll be back later. There’s food in the fridge, plus I'll bring something back for you, I love you. 

y/n” 

You always signed your notes with ‘I love you’ no matter what. You left the note on the nightstand and walked out. You got into the car when you saw the light in the bathroom shut off from the window, you pulled out of the driveway and drove off to Daves. When you got there you used the key he had given you for emergencies, he was cooking and you knew better than to disturb him. “I'm here!” “in the kitchen!” he called out. You found your way to the kitchen and took a seat by the island. “Hi Bella” he came over to give you a kiss on the cheek “hey pops” he smiled at the nickname. “I’m almost done cooking, why don’t you tell me what’s going on?” He handed you a glass of water, you took a sip and started talking.

 “Aaron’s been so grouchy lately. He refuses to talk to me, he’s basically ignoring me. He comes home and locks himself in his office. I've wanted to talk to him but he refused to even look at me. I’ll do things to see if he’ll notice but he really doesn't even care.” you sighed “today, I put my feet up on his desk which you know he hates, and he didn't even say anything to me.” you unintentionally put your hand on your belly. Dave glanced at your hand and smiled. “Work has been stressful lately” He started talking “Strauss has been coming down on him to get the team together. She’s getting shit from the director and she’s coming down hard on him.” You sighed, Dave handed you a bowl of pasta and sat beside you. You started eating, you moaned because of how good it is. “This, this is so good” He laughed “thank you Bella, I put some aside for you to take home.” “thank you” you smiled. 

“Does he know?” He looked at you, you looked back at him. “Does who know what?” Dave rested his hand on your belly. You looked at him, shocked “how did you know?” “Well for starters, you didn't ask for wine when I gave you the water and the pasta I made, you usually hate” you looked down at the bowl and he was right, you had never liked pesto but you loved it right now. “It’s only been two months, I want to tell him but I don't want to spring it on him. I mean he's not even talking to me.” He gave you a hug, the type of hug that a father would give their daughter. That’s what he was to you, David had always been like a father to you. You could always turn to him for advice and he always nudged Aaron in the right direction when you fought. You leaned into his hug, he kissed the top of your head “everything will be okay, go home to your husband Bella” “do I have too? I can just stay here” He laughed “as much as I’d love to hang out with you tonight, I think you two need to talk. plus, Mrs. Rossi number 4 is on her way over right now” he wiggled his eyebrows at you, laughing. You stood up and he walked you to the door, you hugged him goodbye and headed home. 

Pulling into the driveway, you grabbed the bowl and walked inside. The house was dark, you stepped into the kitchen to put the pasta in the fridge. You were headed to bed, realizing you forgot your charger in the living room, you turned on the light to see Aaron sitting on the couch, looking at you with the note in his hand. He startled you, you weren’t expecting him to be there  “holy fuck Aaron, you scared me!” He stood up and looked at you. “A note ? Really ? You just fucking leave and you don't even tell me?” he was starting to get angry, you could see it on his face. The furrowed eyebrows, the slightly red tint on his face, you wanted to push him a little more, looking straight at him “I didn't ‘just leave’ I left a note, that's what the note is for” you smiled sweetly at him. He wasn't a fan of your sarcasm, that’s when he really lost his temper. 

“I deal with bullshit all day at work, Strauss is on my ass 24/7! I come home and expect that you’d understand but no, you do things to irritate me more! You leave the clothes on the bathroom floor, you put your feet on my desk, you leave the sink dripping. Why can’t you ever do anything right?” He shouted at you. You stood there surprised. Aaron had yelled around you before, when he’s on the phone or if he’s talking to the team but he’d never yelled at you. You broke down in tears. You sat on the floor, sobbing. You tried to stop but you really couldn't. Aaron knew you didn’t like when people yelled at you and he promised that he would never do that. He stood there looking at you, realizing what he had done, he knelt down beside you. 

“Baby... I'm so sorry” he reached out to cradle your face, you pulled away from him and got up. “I’ve been trying to talk to you all week, you've done nothing but ignore me” you wipe the tears off your face “if you had told me that something was going on at work, I would have understood, you know I always do. Instead, you ignored me. Why do you think I did those things? just to irritate you? God Aaron, I thought you knew me. I did it so you’d notice me. I’m sick and tired of you making me feel like I come second place to your job!” you practically shouted at him. The sudden urge to throw up hit you and you rushed off to the bathroom. 

You barely go to the toilet before everything you ate came back up. So much for liking Dave’s pasta tonight, you flushed the toilet and leaned back against the tub. You ran your hand through your hair when Aaron knocked on the door “Can I come in?” he asked quietly as if he didn’t want to scare you. “No” you felt the same urge to throw up and a few moments later, you threw up again. You knew Aaron was right outside the door “please, can I come in?” “Go away Aaron” you felt disgusting, this pregnancy was getting to you and the fight wasn’t helping you. You got up and brushed your teeth, you stood in the bathroom until you could no longer hear Aaron. Stepping out, you saw Aaron sitting on the bed with a glass of ginger ale. “I heard you throwing up, I thought you might want this” you took the glass from him and sat beside him “can we talk now?” “I’m listening” 

“Are you okay?” “I'm okay I guess” you leaned over his lap and put the glass on the nightstand “I'm sorry I yelled at you” you laid back on the bed and didn’t say anything. He looked back at you, 

“I really am sorry” 

“It’s okay, I just wish you’d talk to me” 

“I know”  

The two of you shifted and laid beside each other, he turned on his side and looked at you. you turned your head to the side and looked back at him. “Dave sent pasta for you” he smiled “are you okay? why’d you throw up?” “I gotta tell you something” he sat up and looked at you, concerned 

“What’s going on?” 

“I’m pregnant” 

He sat there looking at you “what? I'm going to be a dad?” you nodded. He grabbed you and pulled you into a hug “oh baby” he placed his hand carefully on your belly. 

“Wait you’re okay with this?” 

“of course, I couldn't be more excited. How far along are you?”  

“About 2 months” he looked confused. “2 months and I didn't realize ?” “do you know how hard it is controlling my face around you? I wanted to tell you so badly but I just wanted to be sure.” He nodded, understandingly. “The baby is about the size of a peanut right now” He pulled you into a kiss, you kissed him back and smiled. He laid back against the pillows and you laid back against his chest. His arms wrapped around you, his hands resting on your belly.

“I love you and our peanut” 

“We love you too.”

[iwaasfairy]

just thinking about sakusa-nii that’s usually always cold and distant but proves to you how much he really loves you 😳👉🏻👈🏻

more soft omi omi omi <33 thank you bby (i think my brain was ready to write a whole fic so i had to cut it off pretty abruptly i’m sorryyyy)

tw incest, little angsty

It hadn’t really been about the cake. The tiny slice of store-bought cake that was left on the corner of your desk between your leave to the toilet and a coffee break. It hadn’t even been about the voicemail you checked when you slipped from the long row of desks into one of the unoccupied conference rooms to hear it full volume, the low baritone of his voice always sounding a bit better that way. Though that message was the one you bit your lip over and left to the bathroom for, staring at yourself in the mirror for what feels like too long.

It hadn’t been about the cake, because you’ve been old enough to buy one for yourself for a while. But when your senpai accidentally bumps it off your desk and leaves it on the floor, strawberry filling smushed on the polished surface, suddenly you’re breaking out in tears. And you know she feels horrible since her eyes widen and she’s apologizing profusely, but you might just feel worse. You’re sent home for the rest of the day later in the afternoon, and sit in your parked car in front of some bulk-buy store with the phone in your hand for too long.

You shouldn’t. You know you shouldn’t, but in the end you go anyway. And you don’t know why Kiyoomi would help, because of all the people you know he’s hardly the most empathic one. He doesn’t acknowledge your feelings even when they are written on your face in thick, bold letters; that’s just not the type of person he is. That’s not the kind of sibling he is. But it still feels more comforting to be in his presence than to be alone, so you just hope he doesn’t ignore you entirely.

The gym is beautiful, too pristine for someone like you to show up with puffy eyes and a flushed nose, your dress shirt too stuffy for the athletic whirlwind of professionals as you slip through the familiar halls. It’s been three days, only three was all it took to have you unraveling to threads. You lean against the frame of the double doors for a while to watch the tail end of the match, before you’re noticed. Hinata spots you first, but as soon as he calls out your name, there’s multiple sets of eyes on you.

Kiyoomi’s chest rises and falls a few times, then he’s jogging over. You don’t even have an explanation to give him should he ask, you really don’t. He must sense it though, since he’s always been observant of you. And you open your mouth to apologize, but before you can he has you crushed to his solid shape, too strong for you. Always has been. He mumbles something that you miss, before you feel his lips on the top of your head and his muscular arms cradling you a bit closer. “What happened?” you hear, before he pulls back to look at you with those big, dark eyes. “Tell me.”

Tears well up again as you replay the call in your mind, the longing for his attention today. “Just missed you, Omi nii,” you mumble, pulling out of his hug to look at the other athletes with a guilty smile. You genuinely feel bad to interrupt too, because you know that your brother’s life is a lot more important than your sadness. ‘Happy birthday,’ Atsumu offers with a tiny smile. And you know that Bokuto is aching to take you into a hug, but none of that matters when your brother motions his hand to the coach for a break and drags you away from all the noise, the people, and into one of the empty rooms. “You can get back to training, niichan, you don’t have to babysit me. I’m just heading home—” His lips to yours cut you off, pushing you up against the locked door.

“Don’t lie to me,” he just says, kissing you again. Two fingers under your chin to tilt your face to his, he looks down at you for a few seconds. His mouth meets yours again and again, growing more pressing with each one, until finally you give into him and reach up to pull him closer too. And when you melt into his kisses, he presses his tongue into your mouth and pulls your waist to curve into him. Open mouthed kisses are dragged down your jaw and neck, large hands moving down to grip your ass and press his body into you. “You can say you missed me, y’know,” he whispers, starting to unbutton your shirt between the long, mind numbing drags of his lips to yours. “I missed you too.”

“You did?” Your eyes flutter closed in anticipation for some kind of pushback at your doubt, but he only unbuttons the last of your shirt and drops his lips to your neck. Instinctively you drop your head back and close your eyes, reaching to tangle your fingers in his hair. His lips trail down your collarbones, your bra, where he pulls the cups aside to kiss over your nipples. He grunts something when you moan at his tongue, lifting your thigh to wrap around his legs. When his touch stills, you look down with heavy breaths. “Niichan?”

“Is it really just this?” he presses his body against yours so you can feel his hardness, and presses a few kisses on your parted lips. “Just want niichan to love you, huh?”

You nod. “Yes. Niichan always makes me feel better, so please?” Any other day you might be scared to admit it since it’s still a sore topic. How badly you want him, he wants you. So you busy yourself with the stretchy band of his shorts, eyes cast down in embarrassment. And he chuckles softly against your temple, before pulling you a bit tighter. He runs his hands down the sides of your body a few times, slipping his fingers under the edge of your pencil skirt and slipping it down your legs, as you fiddle with the drawstrings to be the same to him. 

“Alright, little one. Let Omi nii show you how much he loves you.”

[bangtanstrawberrycheesecake]

S.Experiments (M)

➾ pairing: min yoongi x oc

➾ genre: step sibling, smut

➾ word count: 3k

➾ summary: It started from innocent curiousity. “I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.”

CHAPTER 1 | CHAPTER 2 | CHAPTER 3

Heavy panting and muffled sobs in the quiet time of 2 am, where everyone else in the house is deep in their slumber, has become a weekly routine for the two-curious teenager. Yoongi currently has his right hand slipped inside Soo Jin’s panties, two fingers furiously rubbing the tiny bundle of nerves that makes the young girl cry in pleasure. Yoongi’s oversized white t-shirt she’s wearing were bunched up to her stomach while he hovers over her tiny frame, eyes never leaving her face to watch her changing expressions.

Soo Jin had always had the habit of wearing Yoongi’s hoodies or tshirts and the habit worsen after their parents marry each other where Soo Jin have 24/7  access to Yoongi’s closet because they live in the same house.

“I-I’m going to cum.” Soo Jin lips parted in pleasure as her eyes starts fluttering softly. Yoongi can easily spot the tell-tale sign of her approaching orgasm by now. Her chest would heave slightly as her breath deepens and she’ll let out those squeaky moans that is etched deep in his brain by now.

“Yeah, I know.” Yoongi mumbles, his face normal as ever even though the erection he has underneath his boxers tells otherwise. He’s always just as effected as she was whenever he rubs her out. He’s been doing it a few times now ever since she comes over to his room in the middle of the night asking for his help because she can’t get off on her own anymore after that one time he rubs her clit. It always ends with her falling asleep on his bed and him having to relieve himself in the comfort of his toilet afterwards. Today was a bit different though, it was the first time for them to do it in her room.

“Nggghhh...” Squeaky moans began falling from her lips as she felt the familiar whirlpool in her belly starts approaching. Yoongi takes that as a cue to add one more finger to rub on her swollen clit, hands going even faster than it was before. His own lips part opens slightly in amazement as he watches her fall apart, chest panting, back arching and hips bucking against his fingers for more stimulation. The orgasm hits her hard and her soft cries resonated against the room and even then Yoongi’s hand never stop rubbing until he’s sure she has ride through the orgasm.

“Y-Yoongi... D-don’t stop.” Soo Jin huff out, eyes shut out in pleasure as she throws her head back while biting her lower lips. The pleasure coursing through her entire body was insane and she was positive Yoongi made her cum harder than her own self does. “I’m here...I won’t stop until you said so.” His soft voice assured her and she nod her head meekly for him as she enjoys the feeling of his fingers softly rubbing her in the aftershock of her orgasm.

When she starts feeling her wetness trickle down her slit, she lazily whines and motion Yoongi to pull her baby pink cotton panties entirely off her legs before it gets wet. “Alright I’m done now go to sleep.” Yoongi started as he began climbing off the bed, ready to go to his room to do his thing while she falls deep into her slumber like always. But just before he can go, he felt her hands holding on to his wrist, stopping him on his tracks.

“I’m not done...” Soo Jin bit her lips, parting her legs unconsciously making Yoongi’s gaze fall to her swollen hairless slit where a small pool of her clear liquid sits on the opening of her tiny hole. Yoongi swore he couldn’t take his eyes away until her soft voice breaks him from his reverie.

“I want your fingers.” Soo jin gave his wrist a pull, requesting him to sit down beside her on the bed. Yoongi look at her confused as he took a sit, eyes trailing down her body where her pebbled nipples were protruding on his t-shirt she was wearing before going up to meet her eyes again. “You want me to rub you again?” Yoongi ask curiously, he wonder if she wasn’t satisfied with one orgasm tonight. He has read before that women in general can have more than one orgasm but so far Soo Jin has always fallen asleep after one.

Soo Jin nod meekly before taking his right hand to her pussy and laying back comfortably on the bed. Yoongi works his finger right away, smearing the wetness from her hole up to her clit as he ignores the boner that was tenting the cotton boxers he uses to sleep. His dick has been erected for a while now he was pretty sure his boxers has wet spots from his leaking precum.

Soft moans began spilling from Soo Jin’s lips as she felt her belly churn in pleasure for the second time that night. He’s watching her intently, observing the way her face scrunched up in pleasure as he plays with her pussy. It didn’t even take long before she’s whispering to him she’s about to come, the previous stimulation helping her orgasm approach faster. But just as her back arch and a whiny moan slip past her lips, Soo Jin right hand began fisting on Yoongi’s shirt, stopping him from moving.

“Y-your fingers Yoongi...” Soo Jin cry out, cheeks red and eyes hazy with lust. Yoongi felt his dick twitch. “My fingers? What about my fingers?”

Soo Jin buck her hips, trusting her pussy against his fingers. “P-put it inside me.”

Yoongi swore his dick began pulsing. “You want me to put it inside you?” Yoongi gulp down, mind spinning with a dangerous amount of lust. He stares down at Soo Jin making sure she heard him right and she answer him with an excited nod. Yoongi hesitated for a second, he has never done this in his life before but he’ll be lying if he said he doesn’t want to. Before he can think even further he’s slowly slipping his middle finger inside her tiny hole, a groan slip past his lips when he felt her pussy suck his finger inch by inch and the warmness that envelopes him.

“Ngh...Y-Yoongi!” Her loud moan echoes through the room, the sudden intrusion takes her by surprise and Soo Jin parts her legs wider, her knees folding into an M shape as she searches for a comfortable position. She’ve tried to stick her own finger up there before but Yoongi’s fingers is definitely longer. Yoongi watch her intently, groaning softly when he felt her clench around his finger. “Holy shit. So, fucking tight. So, fucking warm.”

Yoongi swore he almost bust a nut right there and then from the feel of her around his finger. “M-move, don’t stop.” Soo Jin cry out and Yoongi began experimentally slide in and out of her. Strings of moans came out from Soo Jin as the new sensation course through her lower region. Yoongi gapes in awe as her pussy try to suck his finger back in every time he slides.

“Yoongi...Faster.” Soo Jin whine, unsatisfied with the slow pace Yoongi was giving her. The older boy groan with lust as he hovers over her, angling his hand so that it would be easier for him to finger her before picking up his pace. He thought of adding another finger but she was so fucking tight around him that he decided one finger was enough for now.

“Feels s-so good.” Soo Jin sobs as she felt Yoongi pace quickens, his long finger nudging on the ridges of her walls that her own finger could never reach. Yoongi bit his lips as his own breathing became heavy while witnessing her getting fucked with his finger.

“You wanna feel even better?” Yoongi pant, hands never stop moving while he ask her. Soo Jin could barely nod, eyes closed with both of her hands fisting on the thin sheet beneath her as she cries out his name.

Nothing could prepare her for the feeling of Yoongi’s thumb circling her clit as he works his middle finger inside her. The sudden pleasure on her bundle of nerves shock her that she accidentally let out the loudest moan Yoongi has ever heard.

“Shh... I told you it’ll feel good.” Yoongi chuckle, watching her panic slightly when she realizes she was a little too loud. “It’s okay tone it down slightly, they won’t hear you.” Yoongi comforted, and Soo Jin nod her head, bringing her palm over her lips to muffle her moans as she enjoys the double stimulation. He was just like her before, getting worried whether their parents could hear them but after a while, he realizes that their parent’s room is way too far on the opposite hallway for them to hear anything that is happening in the room. She was beyond fucked out at this point, pussy leaking and wetting the bed as he fucks her with his fingers. His pace was so quick they both can hear the sound of her juices squelching. “You close?” Yoongi urge, his other hand swiping the baby hair that cover her slightly sweaty forehead back. The buckling of her hips, her cries and her flush faced was his answer and it only took a few more second before her pussy is clenching on his fingers and its grip turn vice like. “Yoongi!”

“Good girl...” Yoongi coo as the euphoria washes over her, his pace never slowing down to let her ride it out. His dick pulses in his boxer again as he watches her, a thin sheen of sweat coats her entire body. Soft muffle cries of ‘Yoongi’ and ‘So good’ echoes throughout his room.

Yoongi’s hand finally slow down to a stop after Soo Jin whine to him about overstimulation.

“You good?” Yoongi ask, gulping when he eye his finger sliding out of her. It was inside her long enough to turn his fingertip puckered. It reeks of her scent and he brought his fingers up to his nose, sniffing the peculiar scent when Soo Jin wasn’t looking just like he always did everytime he rub her off.

“Mhmm...” Soo Jin hum as she lay spent and breathless. Her eyes flutter softly before closing, the post orgasm haze making her drowsy.

Meanwhile Yoongi stare down on his puckered fingers, watching as her clear slimy cum glisten around it it. He move his index finger to meet his thumb, watching as the liquid form a gooey string between his fingers when he separate the two fingers. The curious boy gulped at the sight before plopping his wet fingers to his mouth, tasting the wetness that leak out of her. He’ve seen people do that after fingering a girl on porn and he wanted to try it out. He let his fingers stay on his mouth for a while, his tongue working on licking the cum off his finger. It took a second before the flavor hits his taste buds and Yoongi was sure it was unlike anything he have tasted before.

His eyes closes on instinct, savoring the foreign taste coating his tongue. So this is what pussy taste like.

Yoongi thought nothing could top the taste of his favorite strawberry shortcake but he was wrong. Pussy... taste... better.

He woke up from his trance when he felt Soo Jin softly pulling him down, bringing him to lay beside her. “I’m sleepy.”  Soo Jin whine, eyes shut in her half asleep state as she snuggle on the much awaked Yoongi. She’s still half naked on the bed, t-shirt bunched up her pale tummy exposing every inch of her lower part. The sleepy girl was completely oblivious to the rock hard erection Yoongi was sporting.

“Go sleep i’m going back.” Yoongi clear his throat, his voice stoic and unfazed as if he wasn’t even a tiny bit turn on. She clung onto him tighter in response, disagreeing with the idea of him leaving for his room. “Sleepover in my room tonight.” Soo Jin pout, opening her eyes to blink at him. She watch as Yoongi’s adam apple bob, eyes trailling down to his legs which she had clasp inbetween her own thigh as she cuddle him like a koala. He could feel her puffy labia nudging on it, her cum dripping down and wetting his skin.

“Maybe next time.” Yoongi reply cooly. He almost groan when her knee accidentally nudge on his erection. His dick throb inside his pants, craving for more friction as it was left untouched.

“Yoongi you’re hard.” Soo Jin’s eyes widen, face reddening when realization washes over her. She didn’t think Yoongi would be affected from the entire ordeal judging from the stoic and blank look he had on his face the whole entire time he was touching her.

Yoongi replied her with a shrug. “Don’t worry about it. Just go to sleep.”

___________________________________________________

Authors Note: Sorry for the cliffhanger but i've had this written for months and I just thought I had to upload this instead of it laying down my drafts :)

I was wondering though, do you guys want to read if I put some more plot into them and background story to the characters?

stay safe during quarantine everyone :c <3

[kiribaku-queen]

Home [7/10]

Pairing: Bakugou x reader, Kirishima x reader

Fluff, angst, werewolf!au

Word count: 4.7K

A/N: I’m so sorry if some scenes seemed rushed! I had a bit of a brain fart and procrastinated a lot. I didn’t want to leave you guys hanging and really wanted to put this chapter out. Excuse the mess of a chapter and enjoy the ride! Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist! 

Summary: Being called the beauty of the clan isn’t as nice as it sounds. The beauty of the clan is supposed to exude confidence, power, and well, beauty. You were quite the opposite, only possessing one of those traits. Yet, the older you got, the more you fit into the role you were given. After your brother and all the boys of age come back from their training period, it was time to find a mate. But who will steal your heart? Is it Bakugou, the rising leader of the pack, or is it Kirishima, the personal guard and the strongest in the pack?

[1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8] [9] [10]

This whole break up thing was not easy on Bakugou. He would be watching TV. Bored. Patrolling the boarders. Bored. Trying to study new strategic plans. Bored. Training with the guys. Bored. Everything was boring without you by his side. And because he is so bored with everything that he does, that gets him angrier and more irritated than usual. Especially, with his new personal guards. Bakugou was having a harder time now that Kirishima wasn’t by his side. Kirishima knew him inside and out. He knew what he liked, how he wanted things, and how to do everything. But all these new guards were incompetent, and he didn’t want to spend all his days telling them what to do. Kirishima already knew and he knew how to get the job done without even asking.

His irritation wouldn’t be complete without mentioning Uraraka. She would still follow him around all day like she had nothing else better to do. He thought he could make it work with her. He really did. He tried so hard to ‘fall in love’ with her. They would go on dates, and by dates, he means following her around while she shops. They would have dinner together; her just talking about herself the entire time. He would take her to clan meetings with all the leaders; she dozed off and didn’t pay attention the entire time. It was annoying. She was annoying. The more he tried, the more he knew that they were never going to work out.

When he was with you, there was never a dull day. With you, everyday was filling with laughter, jokes, cuddles, sneaking out and doing stuff they weren’t really supposed to. With you, it was fun and exhilarating. When you would go on dates, there was never enough time in the day to do everything you guys wanted to do. And it was never just one person decides what they do the entire day. You both figured out what you wanted to do together. When you would have dinner together, it would always be in front of the TV, laughs and food being thrown at each other. But the best part was cooking the meal together. He was best cook out of the both of you so he would always teach you a new recipe. His favorite part about cooking together is you messing up and throwing a fit when you burn even the slightest bit of food. And when he took you to meetings, he was always surprised when you had something to say. But it was always insightful comments that made the leaders of the clan praise Bakugou for finding such an intelligent woman. When you spoke out, he found that so sexy. But now it was all gone. All those days he enjoyed and woke up looking forward to the day is gone down the toilet. Now he wakes up dreading what awaits him beyond his bedroom door.

It was another day of patrol. Bakugou hated being stuck inside all day every single day. So he opted for tagging along on today’s patrol pack. This way, not only does this give him something to do, but also to get away from Uraraka for once. When he left, she still insisted on accompanying him but he ran away so fast that she didn’t have a chance to run after him. Him and the pack checked the whole perimeter of the area, weaving through the thick forest and along side the river. When everything was checked thoroughly, it was time to head back. As the pack was heading back to the center of the town, Bakugou recognized the park where he first met you. He remembered like it was yesterday. A soft smile found its way to his lips as he recalled chasing away those boys who were picking on you. And when he saw you for the first time, you were a crying mess with your feet stuck in the sand. A chuckle escaped his lips when he insisted that you were a princess and how he picked you up to go get you cleaned. Damn, was he that sappy? Bakugou stopped in his tracks, causing the other men to also stop. He turns to them and taps one of them on the shoulder.

“Go on ahead. I’ll be back soon,” he says. The others nod in acceptance and go off without him. When they are out of his sight, Bakugou turns in the direction of your house.

He hides in one of the trees by your house, trying to see if he can get a glimpse of you. He knows that what he’s doing right now is… stalkerish but all with good reason. He just missed you so fucking much. It couldn’t hurt to just watch you from afar. Bakugou relaxed on a tree branch, legs crossed out in front of him, arms crossed behind his head. And then there you were. Bakugou jolted up, not really believing that you were there. You had joined your mother out in the garden. She was teaching you how to plant different kinds of vegetables and how to care for them. It’s been so long since Bakugou had last seen you and your beauty stunned him. He stared and stared, his heart beating fast and butterflies entered the pit of his stomach. It was taking his all for him not to jump down and embrace you. Your smile and whole being was so inviting. Everything you did put him in a trance. He was truly mesmerized.

Your mother left, leaving you alone in the garden. You took out your notebook and started drawing the different kinds of plants and notes about how to take care of them. Bakugou, watching from before, softens at the scene. Typical (y/n). Always wanting to do your best and learn whatever you can.

“Ha?” he said aloud, frowning at what he saw next. Kirishima? Kirishima came up behind you, rather too closely. That made you jump and turn to him, minimal space in between you guys. That didn’t sit well with Bakugou. His eyebrow twitched to see you smiling up and blushing at the red head. What the hell was going on?

“Whatcha doing?” Kirishima questioned, looking at the drawing on your notebook. You blushed and hid the notebook, clutching it close to your chest.

“Nothing,” you muttered, looking away from him. You guess you didn’t clutch it hard it enough because Kirishima easily stole it away from you. Gasping in shock, you immediately tried to grab it away from him but Kirishima already had the book up so high that you couldn’t reach. He laughed at your reaction but that didn’t stop him from stealing glances at your drawings. You were reaching for your book, making Kirishima back up, you following his every move. But in the midst of trying to take your book back, you tripped and fell right in his arms. Kirishima was quick to catch your waist to keep you steady. At the sight of this, fury was growing inside Bakugou.

“Woah,” Kirishima said as he caught you. Your hand landed on his chest, which was… wow. It was soft under your touch but you could feel the his muscle and he wasn’t even flexing. You quickly got off him. Kirishima was just as flushed as you were so you took the opportunity to snatch your book away from him.

“You said you wouldn’t touch me without my permission,” you reminded him.

“You tripped so I caught you. What’d ya want me to do? Just let you fall?” Kirishima pouted.

“No? I mean…” God, you didn’t know anymore. Being around Kiri lately has your head spinning and your feelings are so confused. Kirishima playfully smirked at how shy you got. He was going to leave it there and not tease you anymore until something moved in the corner of his eye. On instinct, his eyes traveled to the moving object in the trees and look who he sees? Bakugou Katsuki spying in the trees. Kirishima’s playful smirk turns into a devilish one. It was the perfect opportunity.

“Unless…” Kirishima starts to trail off. You look at him and in that moment, Kirishima grabs your waist, swiftly pulling you close to him. Wide eyed, you couldn’t even react because it all happened so fast. He leans in, eyes straight on your lips. “…you wanted me to touch you.”

“Kiri!!!!” you covered your face this time with your book, face completely flushed and embarrassed. You couldn’t bear to look at him in this situation. Kirishima’s eyes darted to the trees to find Bakugou gone. Feeling victorious, Kirishima leaned back and pat your head.

“I’m just joking, princess. Get dressed. We’re heading out in a few,” he calls out, heading back into the house. Still flustered, you peeked behind your book.

“Where are we going?” you questioned. He looks back and flashes you a smile with a thumbs up.

“Training!”

Bakugou was increasingly getting more annoyed and more furious by the second. He didn’t know why Kirishima was at your place or how you guys got so close, but he didn’t like it one bit. Kirishima pulling you closer to him, his arms around your waist, your chest on his and the closeness of your faces together put him over the edge. He could feel his heart breaking and turned his head away, not wanting to see what happens next. Before he could do anything stupid, he forced himself to go back to his place. But that image burned inside his memory for the rest of the day.

 “Why are we training again?” you ask Kirishima who was already stretching out. You stood there awkwardly, not knowing what to do. You changed into your only workout outfit, a pair of black and grey leggings matched with a matching crop top that hugged your figure nicely, and Kirishima dragged you to an open area in the forest.

“I’m going to teach you how to fight!” he said, enthusiastically. You bit your lip, nervously. You didn’t know if this was a good idea. You? Fight? That just wasn’t like you. You wouldn’t even know if Sero would approve of this either. Kirishima noticed how uncomfortable you got. His expression softened and took your hands in his, giving you a reassuring look. “Don’t worry. We’ll start off easy. I think this will help you find more confidence in yourself. And an excuse to get out of the house,” he explains. You were grateful that he was constantly thinking about you. Giving it a try couldn’t hurt?

“Okay, what are we doing first?” you asked, trying to get pumped up. Kirishima chuckled.

“Hold your horses. We aren’t doing anything until you stretch,” he says. And with that, you begin your daily training with Kirishima. You started off with the basics: kicks and punches. But day after day, you started learning more advanced moves and combos. It was hard and exhausting, but also a good way to relieve the stress you had been holding inside of you for so long. Kirishima was impressed by how fast you picked up all the moves. Soon, you were having one-on-one matches with him. In the beginning, he would go easy on you because he didn’t want to hurt you. Boy, did he really underestimate your power and ability. You were quick and strategic, thinking fast in the heat of the moment which caused you to land a few, good punches on Kirishima. After a while of fighting one-on-one in your human form, Kirishima thought it was time to change into your wolf form.

You don’t transform often, because you didn’t have to. So it was rare, even for Sero, to see you in your wolf form. When you did, Kirishima’s jaw dropped. I mean, you were very beautiful in person but how could you be beautiful even in your wolf form? You had slick, grey fur with blotches of white and black on your back. Your dark brown eyes, although fierce upon first glance, were kind and innocent. A black fog lightly surrounded you due to your quirk being Black Ghost.

Along with training you in your wolf form, he also helped you try to control Black Ghost without feeling overwhelmingly sad or angry. That proved to be the hardest part. And it took a long while before you could get the hang of it and even manifest it on other people which put you in a more advantage during fights.

You and Kirishima were fighting in your wolf forms. It was hard attacking and landing a hit on him since his quirk was hardening and his fur hardened due to it. It actually causes more damage to you if you try to attack. You had to think quick. You were losing energy and clearly losing this fight. Concentrating with all your might, you let Black Ghost take over Kirishima’s senses. Black Ghost whispered in his ears, attacking all his insecurities. This distracting him and he shook his head to try to get it away from him but to no avail. Taking advantage of Black Ghost distracting Kirishima, you leaped forward, pinning him to the ground. You both didn’t move, chests heaving up and down. You had won. Ecstatic, you transformed back into your human form. Your arms were pinned on both sides of his head, legs wrapped around his wolf form.

“Pinned ya!” you bragged, a wide smile that wouldn’t leave your face even if you tried. You never felt so exhilarated before. Countless attempts in trying to win a fight, you finally did it. But you celebrated too soon. Kirishima transformed back into his human form, flipping you over so now that you were pinned under him. He held your wrists above your head, legs securely around your waist.

“Pinned ya,” he imitated you. But you weren’t going down without a fight. You pushed him off with all your might, catching him off guard. He fell backwards, allowing you to trap him beneath you once again.

“Pinned ya again,” you mocked him. Kirishima sighed, indicating that he gave up. You became excited and giggled at your accomplishments. Kirishima smiled up at you. Not because you had finally won against him. But because you looked happy. He saw your progress of being a timid, shy little girl to this point, exuding confidence and power. You got so much stronger, physically and mentally that it was so sexy to him. He always saw you as a woman, but right now, he was so utterly attracted to you.

Your head was floating right above his. As much as he wanted to celebrate your winnings right now, he wants to do something else much more. You caught his gaze as something in them changed. He slowly lifted his head, leaning his head to the side to capture your lips. But before they could connect, you placed your hand on his lips.

“Didn’t give you permission,” you say and got off him, leaving him frozen in his spot and speechless on the ground. He groaned and playfully punched the air out of frustration. You silently laughed at his reaction. “Come on big baby! It’s getting late and I still have to get ready for tonight,” you tell him.

“Right the party…” Kirishima gets up and dusts himself off. You two walk back to get ready for the full moon party.

Every year, the clan holds a full moon party to celebrate the moon’s powers. Without the moon, you and everybody else wouldn’t be able to transform into the wolf forms. Thus, making you just regular humans. Even though every month has a full moon, you only celebrate once a year because that’s when the moon is at its biggest and its brightest.

You changed into a new dress that you had been working on all year prior to the party. With the help of your mom of course. It was a red dress that was light and flowy against the wind. Very easy to move around in. You wanted to impress a certain hot head with this dress, that’s why you worked on it for a whole year. But now that you two weren’t together… well, you didn’t want all your effort to go to waste. Although, it does carry a sad meaning behind it.

You appeared in front of Kirishima in your new dress. Your parents had went on ahead to secure all the best foods and spend some time alone together. It was their date night. And Sero went alone to try to find his own mate. So he rode solo. You just went with Kirishima. You didn’t mind his company at all, since you guys spend so much time together anyway. Kirishima gawks at you. How many times was he going to be stunned by you? Literally, everything you do was making his heart race. You both were ready to leave, all that was left was your shoes. It probably wasn’t going to be comfortable by the end of the night, but you wanted to look good. You sat down to put your heels on but one of the straps was stuck. Seeing you struggle with your heels, Kirishima bent down to help you. He fixed the strap that was tangled and fixed it through the hoop, tightening it so that it fit around your feet comfortably but not too tight.

“There,” he says as he finishes. He looks up and meets your eyes. Time freezes as you stare into each others eyes. Up close, you could see his features clearly. The scar on his eye, his wide, deep red eyes, his fair skin, the sharp jawline, and his signature sharp teeth that scared off a lot of people but became less intimidating because of how kind his smile was. You didn’t notice that Kirishima was leaning in again but this time, you didn’t move or stop him. Instead, he stopped himself. He promised that he wouldn’t touch you without your permission, and he was going to keep that promise. So he backed off, disappointed in himself. Your lips were just so inviting and you looked so good in that dress that he couldn’t help himself. But a promise was a promise. Damn, he really cockblocked himself. He got up from the ground and turned to leave, but you were quick to grab his arm. He turned to face you and was shocked when your lips met his in a soft kiss. Before he got comfortable in the kiss, you pulled away and stuck your tongue out at him.

“Come on, we’re late!” you squealed and grabbed him out of the house, holding onto his arm the entire way to the party.

When you arrived, music was playing loudly and multiple conversations were taking place. It didn’t take you very long to find your parents sharing food at one of the vendors and Sero trying to smooth talk to several of the ladies there. You rolled your eyes at him and took Kirishima to one of the food stands nearby that was selling dango on a stick. Your favorite! Both you and Kirishima were enjoying your time, indulging on all the delicious food present. But that was put on pause when you ran into a couple that you really hoped you wouldn’t see.

Bakugou and Uraraka, too, were eating food from the stalls. Well, Uraraka was. Bakugou was following from behind, looking uninterested as always. When they spot you and Kirishima, they stopped. It was like a stand off between you two and them. A sharp pain attacked your chest and your heart started picking up the pace. You thought you were going to be okay seeing him, after all, it’s been a few months since you guys last saw each other. But with the tears building up, you realized it was all too soon. Kirishima’s eyebrow twitched in annoyance and stood behind you, protectively.

Bakugou, too, felt his heart start to race upon seeing you. Mixed feelings were crashing on him all at once. You was surprised to see you, but was angry that you were here with Kirishima. You looked beautiful in that red dress. Was it new? But you were tearing up, he could see it. Uraraka, on the other hand, was all smiles, even after what happened. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at them any longer so you tugged on Kiri’s sleeve, signaling that you had to leave.

“Let’s go,” he whispers in your ear, and leads you past them. Kirishima glaring at Bakugou and Bakugou doing it right back. Bakugou hands clenched into fists at his side and his jaw clenched. Uraraka glances to the side to see his reaction and tries her best to stifle a smile.

You were pretty down after that. Food and interacting with others wasn’t really helping either. If your mood was done, so was Kirishima. He was normally very energetic but he couldn’t be selfish and have fun while you were down because of your ex. He looked around and found some of your students dancing in the middle of the crowd, along with others in the dance circle. Taking your hand, he dragged you in the middle of the dance floor to dance with your students. You were awkward at first because you weren’t in the mood. But seeing the young ones enjoying themselves and dancing around you was cute and a small smile made it to your lips. Eventually, you were laughing when Kirishima was pulled into a couple dance with this elder woman. He gladly danced with her and with much enthusiasm. You stood on the side watching everyone enjoy themselves dancing. It actually made you want to dance with them. Like someone had read your mind, a random gentleman pulled you into the dance floor, forcing you to dance with him. You were a bit shocked at first but went along with it. Soon people were switching partners and you were spinning everywhere that you had a big smile plastered on your face. Dancing made you forget about everything that happened earlier and regained your confidence.

Throughout the night, you saw Uraraka and Bakugou more than once. But you payed no mind to them anymore. Kirishima made sure that all your attention was on him. He bought you food, took you dancing, go back for more food and drinks, and back to dancing again. There was a time when you passed Uraraka who was at a food stand. You were in a good mood and feeling a little naughty. You activated Black Ghost and let it manifest on Uraraka. She couldn’t see anything but heard unpleasant things. She was looking around, flailing her arms around and trying to drown out the sound of Black Ghost. You snickered and that got the attention of Kirishima. He saw what you were doing, but didn’t stop you. He was actually enjoying your small prank. But he stopped you, only to bring you back to dancing.

You were getting lost in the music and dancing with random people. You even partnered up with Sero and your father at one point. The night turned into a lot of fun. That’s right. You shouldn’t let someone who didn’t care for you ruin your night. You had so many people that made you have fun around you. Why ruin the mood when everyone is enjoying themselves? The song was coming to a close with a final round of rotation of partners. You hadn’t partnered with Kirishima yet, surprisingly. The final rotation was about to happen and you thought Kirishima was going to be there, but instead, another man grabbed your hand and pulled you away from the dancing crowd. Huh? Where was this man taking me? Who is this? Why are we moving away from the group? Your back gently hit a tree and two powerful arms trapped you. You looked up to see hot-blooded, vermillion eyes. Bakugou.

“Bakugou-” you whisper his name. You couldn’t believe he was right in front of you, so close at that. You didn’t know what to say. It’s been so long…

“What are you and Kirishima?” he questions. You start to feel annoyed. He breaks things off with you and now he’s getting mad because you’re paying attention to another man?

“That is none of your business,” you inform him, pushing yourself off the tree.

“It is,” he says.

“Yeah? Enlighten me. How?” you challenge him. Bakugou was a little taken back by your response. He hasn’t seen you act like this before. Now that he thinks about it, your aura has changed. You looked more confident and stronger. You looked like a totally different person. The way you talk, your posture and how you present yourself. It was…captivating. He cleared his throat, embarrassed that he couldn’t come up with an answer. “Need I remind you that we are no longer together. Whether or not Kirishima and I are together, is our business and our business alone. Now if you would excuse me,” you tried to escape his hold but he pulled you back.

“So you’re not together,” he questions, but it sounded more like a confirmation. You looked away and didn’t answer him. That gave him his answer. He felt relieved. Bakugou stared at you and took his time examining you. Any feeling of anger vanished as he inhaled your scent because damn, he missed you. Now that you were so close to him and really in front of him, he was having a hard time controlling himself.

“I missed you,” he confesses accidentally. That was supposed to stay in his head, but now that’s its said out loud, there’s no going back.

Crack.

“Bakugou, don’t do this,” you pleaded, sighing. Your heart hurt hearing those words. Because for the longest time, you wanted to hear that. For the longest time, you had longed for his touch and for him to come visit you. For the longest time, you wanted him to hold you and tell you it was a lie. You wanted him to at least apologize for breaking your heart and give you a better explanation on why he was doing this. Hell, if he came begging for you to run away with him, you wouldn’t miss a beat and go with him. But it’s been so long and far too late for that. Or so you thought. With him being in front of you and his scent filling your scenes completely, all those feelings and thoughts were coming back. Looks like you weren’t over him like you had previously thought.

“(y/n),” Bakugou began. You looked up into his eyes and they were desperate. “Just… fuck. I can’t do it. I don’t want her. I want you. I want you, (y/n). Forget everything I said, okay? Can we just, start over?” he begged. Your brows furrowed, looking at this expression. He was really hurting. You could tell his feelings were genuine, but you couldn’t bring yourself to accept him. Not with Uraraka still in the picture.

“Bakugou, I’m sorry. I just can’t.” you tell him. Your heart broke even more when he looks at you, like his world was falling apart. You wanted to caress his cheek and pull him into a hug but that you refrained. You had to be strong. Don’t do it. Don’t do it. Walk away.

“I’m sorry,” was the last thing you said before escaping his grasp and walking back to the party. Bakugou just stands there in the same position that you left him in. A single tear rolls down his face as he had never been so heart broke before.

Meanwhile, back at the party, Kirishima was looking for you after the dance. You just disappeared and he was getting worried. He couldn’t even sniff you out before there was too many senses invading his nose. As he was searching, he didn’t even notice the people around him and he bumped into someone.

“Sorry,” he quickly said and continued on searching.

“Aw, now that’s not how you should address your boss,” a voice said. He froze in his tracks. Turning around he was faced with Uraraka who had her hands crossed in front of her chest, looking smug.

“Uraraka,” he addressed her, not looking happy at all.

“Kiri,” she said mockingly. She spots you heading back to the part from the woods. Bakugou shortly following after, looking dejected. How perfect. “Look like the plan is working perfectly.”

A/N: Please don’t hate me.

Tagged: @goodpop9 @superblyspeedydragon @tspice283 @marvelobsessedteen​ @rosetheshapeshifter @cabbagesquadfam @bnha-iamhere​ @theartsydoodler​ @taehyungbbe​

[heyyyharry]

Chapter 8: The Little Prince and His Flower

(from the My Girl Trilogy: Stay Mine)

…in which Harry must return to Holmes Chapel, Y/N is upset he went without her, and family drama is not family-only.

Word count: 10k

AU: actor!Harry, older!Harry, younger!Y/N, (4-year age gap).

Wattpad link (Thea as Y/N)

What to expect in this chapter: Gemma/Isaac, Niall/?, Ruby(???), and a graveyard ‘date’

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Isaac closed his umbrella, almost too caught up in what had happened to realise it'd stopped raining since Gemma had left. His mouth opened to answer Emilia’s question, but his brain was stuttering, unable to keep up.

He'd kissed Gemma.

No, she had kissed him. He didn’t know why she’d done it, but did it matter? He'd kissed her back and he'd liked it. He'd kissed his best friend’s sister, who had a boyfriend, a shitty one, still, it didn’t justify what he’d done.

If Harry knew about this—

His stomach twisted into knots as his palms started to sweat. Harry couldn’t know about this. They were finally on good terms again. Isaac couldn’t fuck this up. Had Emilia seen the kiss? Would she tell Harry if she had?

Isaac took a deep breath to ease his mind. To Emilia, he said, “I came to see you. You didn’t show up for the shoot, Emi.”

“I lost my phone and I thought the shoot was next week.” She gave an apologetic grin. “I’m very sorry.”

Her apology didn’t sound sincere, but now he had bigger problems to worry about. With an impersonal tone, he said, “If you’re not interested anymore, you should’ve let me know so I could find someone else.”

“No, no, I still want to model for you!” She wrapped her fingers around his wrist before he even thought about ending the conversation. His alarmed expression got her blushing as she hid her hands behind her back, staring at her feet. “I’d been...um...I’d been busy preparing for my audition this morning. That was why I took two days off in a row, and then my boss called me here today because the shop got overcrowded.”

“An audition? For a movie?”

He hoped his startlement didn’t offend her. There was nothing wrong with her auditioning for a movie; she used to go to film school after all. But not so long ago she’d told him she’d already given up on her dream of becoming an actress, so he was curious to know how that passion had sparked again.

“Yes, a real movie!” she exclaimed, her green eyes twinkling like Harry’s whenever he talked about his job, or Y/N.

As if Emilia could read Isaac’s mind, she added, “Harry encouraged me to attend casting calls. I’ve done some commercials and modelling before, so a movie would be a nice challenge. He also gave me the contacts of some directors—” His dubious look stopped her midsentence, and her voice went flat, “I didn’t get them from his assistant. He actually gave them to me.”

“No, I didn’t mean—”

“It’s okay. Please don’t explain.” With a frustrated exhalation, she peered around him. “Was that Gemma who just left?”

The hair stood up at the nape of his nape when he met her questioning gaze. Convinced that she’d seen the kiss, he had to admit, “Yeah, it was Gemma.”

Her eyes went round as she considered him in a sceptical manner. “Are you two dating?”

“No. She has a boyfriend.”

Gemma was so private that not many people knew she had a boyfriend. For all he knew, he could’ve lied to Emilia and gotten away with it even if she’d witnessed the kiss. He couldn’t bring himself to do it, though. He had a strict rule against lying. No matter how trivial you thought your lie was, you’d have to cover it up with more lies, and before you knew it, the lie had become too big, like a snowball rolling down a hill. The damage it would cause was inevitable.

Nodding slowly, Emilia ahhhhed in silence and concluded with, “Too bad. I’d love to talk to her.”

He waited for her to continue, but then she told him she had to get back to work and would text him with her new number. Just like that, she disappeared into the shop, leaving him in bafflement.

Emilia was the most curious person he’d ever met, so if knowing Gemma’s relationship status was a good enough answer for her, then she must’ve seen the kiss. What he couldn’t explain was how cool she’d been about it, as if him — her half-brother’s best friend — kissing her half-sister, who had a boyfriend, was the most normal thing in the world.

Either she hadn’t seen anything, or she was a much better actress than he thought.

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Y/N had been a fool to think she would worry less about writing now that she’d found the perfect literary agent. For the last few months, she’d been stressed out about pitching her manuscript, but ever since she’d had Laura, her biggest concern had circled back to the manuscript itself.

Laura was a perfectionist, which was good, because she never made mistakes. But she expected the same thing from all of her clients, and Y/N would do anything to please that woman. Even if it meant pulling an all-nighter and living off on tea and protein bars just to finish another scene to move on to the next.

After their first meeting, Laura had emailed Y/N a very long list of what she ‘didn’t like’ about the story. Some scenes were redundant; the drama should be more intense; the plot twists weren’t shocking enough; more sex, more sex, more sex.

Y/N had vowed to herself that she would never, ever, write a generic story just to match a publisher’s bulleted list. Yet here she was, shamefully ticking boxes and changing the entire story as she went. If her characters could step out of the page, they would strangle her in her sleep for how she’d fucked up their lives. But if she was going to have an agent, she had to believe in her agent.

Laura knew what kind of book sold and what didn’t, and at this point, Y/N just wanted her novel to be published. She didn’t care if it wasn’t the best story in her opinion. As long as Laura guaranteed that Y/N’s babies would end up on the shelves in the biggest bookstores in London, Y/N would do anything – and she meant anything – Laura told her to.

“Y/N!”

The voice interrupted her train of thoughts, and she glanced up from her laptop screen to meet Alice’s amused gaze. “You haven’t touched your tea,” Alice said, her grin widened. Only then did Y/N realise her tea had been served a long while ago and already gotten cold. “And maybe stand up and walk around for a bit. How could you sit in one place for three fucking hours? Can you still feel your ass?”

Y/N snorted at the remark and wiggled against her chair. “This ass still feels pretty fine to me.”

“Weirdo,” Alice said, shaking her head.

But Alice did have a point. Y/N had been staring at the screen for so long that the words had begun to look all the same; a short break would do her some good.

Her shoulders sagged as she took off her AirPods, rubbed her eyes with the heels of her palms and glanced around the shop. It’d been so crowded when they had arrived this morning. Now, most of the customers had left, and there were only them, a couple at the table by the street-facing window, and three girls in the corner booth, who were laughing and taking selfies.

Alice shot them a disapproving glare before switching her attention back to the novella in her hands — The Little Prince by Antoine de Saint-Exupéry. Y/N’s mother had read it to her when she was little, and she still remembered the story as if she’d learned it by heart. You knew when a book was good when even Alice, who absolutely hated reading, could not put it down.

Not wanting to disrupt her friend, Y/N quietly pushed away from the table when Alice snapped her head up, her eyebrows scrunched. “Where are you going?”

“Gotta pee.”

Alice gave a dismissive wave, and her eyes were fixed on the book again.

In the bathroom, Y/N took the far back stall, telling herself to finish quickly so she could get back to work. But while cleaning herself, she heard echoes of high heels accompanied by the laughter of the previous group of girls. The door next to hers opened and shut, and the water ran as one girl washed her hands.

“Did she leave already?” asked the one in the stall.

“I think so,” said her friend outside.

“Shame. I thought Harry was gonna show up,” the third girl sighed in disappointment as the water stopped. The toilet flushed, heels clacked against the marble, and the water ran again.

“I saw him in the car park once,” continued the third voice. “He came to pick her up. You should’ve seen her bitchy face. No wonder she’s got no friend but the psycho Alice Young.”

Y/N scowled when the first girl chimed in, “Remember Mandy Torres from English Lit?”

The Mandy who’d pretended to be friends with Y/N and then shit-talked about her behind her back? Yes, she remembered.

“So Mandy invited them to her party because she’s a sweetheart. Then that bitch got insecure, thinking Mandy might steal her man, so she blew up at Many in the library, calling her names and stuff. Two people saw it!”

Y/N could bet these girls knew it was a lie, and still, they chose to believe it so they could have a reason to hate her.

Three of them laughed at the same time, and then the second one said, “Can’t believe she still showed her face after that clip.”

“What clip?” her friend asked, sounding just as confused as Y/N.

Her heart was pounding, and her fingers were clawing at her knees. She didn’t know what clip they were referring to. And why shouldn’t she show her face?

Yes, she and Harry had filmed a sex tape before, but they’d been careful and deleted it right after they’d watched it together. It was impossible that the clip still existed and had gotten leaked.

“Oh, you haven’t seen it? This morning, someone uploaded a clip of Harry Styles and Ruby Ellis dancing together at a party in LA. They were all over each other.”

“Oh my God, they’re definitely fucking again!”

“Can you blame him? Would you pick that whore over Ruby Ellis?”

Their laughter faded into white noise, and soon their footsteps had become mute.

Y/N sat there for a long moment, fists balling against her skirt until she was sure she was alone again. That was when she got on her feet, flushed the toilet and clawed the door open.

Her reflection in the mirror caught her by surprise. She almost didn’t recognise herself from how angry she looked. Taking a deep breath, she stomped to the sink to wash her hands and then dried them with a paper towel before going back to her table like nothing was wrong.

Out of the corner of her eye, she could see those girls watching her. They whispered something to each other, probably shocked and embarrassed that she’d heard them say all those terrible things behind her back.

The old Y/N would have stepped out of the stall and put them in their place. But the new Y/N — Harry’s Y/N — wouldn’t put on a show in public and take down her boyfriend’s career and her dignity.

“You okay?” Alice asked when Y/N plopped down in the chair across from her.

Y/N flatly said, “yes,” and put on her AirPods to get back to work. No more distraction. Fuck those girls. Fuck the internet. She didn’t need to see that clip to–

Her phone buzzed once, and she flinched. Cece had sent her a post on Instagram.

Now what? Was she going to check it? Her mind went numb for a second as her fingers froze on the keyboards. She kept staring at the blinking cursor until her anxiety became too much, and she surrendered. She grabbed her phone, swiped right on the notification and placed her thumb on the home button to unlock the screen.

Have you seen this?

No, she hadn’t. And she hadn’t intended to until now.

The thumbnail of the video was too dark for her to make out what it was, but the caption said: WHAT HAPPENED TO Y/N??? With shocked emojis. Three shocked emojis. His fans were freaking out for her, so this might not be good.

Biting a nail, she muted the volume and tapped on the clip to be directed to the post. It was dark at first, but when the pink light started flashing, she could make out Harry’s figure. She knew his drunk dance moves; he was definitely three sheets to the wind here. Then, she caught a glimpse of the dress Niall had criticised the other night. Ruby looked just as drunk as she danced next to Harry, shouting the lyrics of whatever song the DJ was playing.

It was hard to know for sure what was happening here as it was too dark, but a part of Y/N felt relieved because she had expected worse. They were just dancing together, their bodies barely touching, and there were so many people around.

“Shit.”

She jerked her head to the side, and Alice’s face almost gave her a heart attack. Alice was standing beside her, one hand on the back of Y/N’s chair, the other lay flat on the table.

“I don’t care what everyone’s saying. It doesn’t look like he’s cheating on you.”

Y/N’s heart beat faster even though she knew Harry would never cheat. Not on her, nor anyone else. She’d seen how he’d beat himself up for sleeping with Ruby despite her having a boyfriend. He’d made mistakes in the past, but he would never hurt a woman by cheating on her.

Maybe the issue didn’t lie in the fact that everyone was saying he had or was going to cheat on Y/N. Maybe seeing him dance with Ruby – at the big fancy party Y/N had refused to attend – made her feel like he would be happier at places like that, with people like that, people like Ruby and his famous friends.

Her chest sank as she finished the thought, but she still managed to set it aside as she closed her laptop and rose from her seat. “Ready to go, Al?”

“Sure, but can I pee first? I need to pee.”

Alice’s grimace made her giggle as she watched her friend rush to the bathroom.

She began to gather her notebooks and chargers when her phone buzzed repeatedly, and when she saw it was Harry, she picked it up. Something told her he’d just woken up, seen the clip and freaked out. He should freak out. Because she’d almost had a heart attack.

She shoved the rest of her things into her bag and hit the talk button.

“I’ve seen the video, so we don’t have to talk about it.”

“Shit,” he grunted. “Are you mad at me? I swear I was drunk and didn’t know who I was dancing with, but Jeff called me a taxi afterwards and–”

“Don’t worry, I’m not mad at you.”

When he let out a sigh, she could almost see him close his eyes and put a hand against his chest. “Where are you?”

“At a coffee shop on campus.” She leaned her hip against the table as she turned and made eye contact with one of the girls in the corner booth. The girl turned back to her friends like nothing was wrong, but Y/N knew the bitch was scared to death. To Harry, she said, “I’m heading home though. I’ll see you at the airport tonight, kay?”

“That...won’t be necessary.”

“What do you mean?” She straightened when realisation hit her. “Harry, where are you?”

“Holmes Chapel.”

She knew it.

“I knew it! I knew you’d go without me.”

“I’m sorry, babe. I didn’t want to involve you in my family drama. I’m going to talk to my mum alone, and then–”

She didn’t want to let him finish. “I’m already involved, though. I could help. You might get anxious and say the wrong things. Look how it went with Gemma.”

When he paused, she knew he knew she was right. Still, his stubborn ass would never admit it. “I’m sorry, babe. At least you can focus on your book while I’m not there. Miss you. See you soon.”

The line disconnected. She stared at the screen in disbelief, and text messages from him popped up.

Forgot to say I love you.

I love you.

With a sigh, she stuffed her phone into the front pocket of her backpack and pinched her temples. She hated that she couldn’t stay mad at him, but she wished he hadn’t blindsided her like that.

Whatever. She’d deal with him when he got back tomorrow.

She shrugged on the backpack just in time Alice returned from the bathroom. Alice clumsily threw her things into her nude tote bag and hurried to the door as Y/N preceded. The moment they stepped out into the street, Alice asked, “Did those Kardashian wannabes bother you when I was in the bathroom?”

She was referring to the girls in the corner booth.

“Why’d you think so?” Y/N responded as she kept on walking.

“I saw them glaring at you when we left, and I almost stopped to throw a fist.” Alice swung her fist and frantically apologized to an annoyed pedestrian for almost hitting him.

“Well, they talked shit about me in the bathroom and didn’t know I was there.” Y/N rolled her eyes.

“Why didn’t you tell me? I would’ve poured drinks on them like I did with Mandy.”

Y/N froze in her tracks, her eyes widened. “You did what with Mandy?”

“I heard her talk shit about you at her party so I poured vodka on her head.” Alice clasped both hands together in front of her chest. “Please don’t be mad at me.”

Y/N stared at her friend unblinkingly for a moment, and then crushed her in a fierce embrace. “You’re a good friend, Al. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Laughing, Alice clasped Y/N’s shoulders and pushed away from her. “You’re not going to cry, aren’t you?”

“No, you dick.” She brushed Alice’s hands off. “Lunch?”

“Sure. I’m starving.” With an arm around each other’s waist, they strolled down the busy pavement together.

After lunch in the Vietnamese restaurant right across from Y/N’s block, they ran into Blake outside. He was about to get into his car when he spotted Y/N and waved at her.

This was actually the first time she’d seen him in casual clothes. He always wore suits when he went to work, and workout clothes when he was at home. Today, he wore a black t-shirt with dark blue jeans, his hair uncombed, his smile wide. He looked almost five years younger. Almost like the ‘high school bad boy’ Blake that she remembered.

“Jesus, is that your ex-boyfriend slash neighbour?” Alice dropped her jaw as she fanned herself, and Y/N quickly swatted her on the arm.

Blake rested an arm on the roof of his car as a dimple appeared in his cheek. “Working on a Saturday, Miss Writer?”

“Working everyday, Mr Lawyer.”

Alice elbowed her gently while looking Blake up and down, so she had to add, “This is my friend Alice.”

“Nice to meet you, Alice. I’m Blake.”

Alice caught his hand with both of hers and shook it firmly. “Y/N has said a lot about you.”

“Has she?” Blake arched an eyebrow at Y/N, who scoffed and waved Alice’s comment away.

“Don’t believe her. She’s nuts.”

“Hey!”

Y/N ignored her friend and switched her attention to Blake’s car. He hated driving as much as she did, only because he preferred his motorcycle – which she assumed he’d left in the US – otherwise he would rather walk. And since he didn’t have to work on Saturdays, she took a guess that he was going out of town.

“Where are you going?”

“Holmes Chapel.”

His answer made her flinch. From what she’d heard, his parents didn’t live there anymore. So why would he go there?

“I’m visiting my grandma,” he said before she could ask. “You’ve met her a few times, remember?”

She nodded. His grandma used to love her. After they’d broken up, Y/N had even considered going to his grandma’s house every day so that Grandma Roman would grow attached to her and convince Blake to get back with her. Now she was glad teenage Y/N hadn’t had the nerves to do something so humiliating.

“Y/N, you’re going to Holmes Chapel tomorrow, right?”

Y/N shot Alice a disapproving glare before telling Blake, “Harry and I were gonna go together, but something came up and he had to go without me.”

Had to. Inner Y/N rolled her eyes at the words.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Blake said, but she waved it off.

“Don’t be. Tell your grandma I said hi, okay?”

“Okay. Good luck with your writing.”

Her response was simply a dissatisfied hum. Just thinking about spending another night alone in her flat with her laptop could almost make her go insane. She could go out tonight, but she’d feel guilty because she didn’t have a reason to not write another chapter. If she was surrounded by family and friends, however...

“Blake,” she said before he could get into his car. “Can I go with you?”

When Alice dropped her jaw and Blake’s eyes went wide, she continued, “I can sit in the back. I won’t bother you.”

She'd already braced herself for rejection, knowing how much Blake hated being in a car with other people during long drives, even when he was the passenger. He relished the feeling of an adrenaline rush while riding his motorcycle, and had often joked that he’d felt most alive when he might die. Being in a car confined him. So did the company of someone else. It’d been different when they’d been a couple but they weren’t anymore. Now she was just ‘someone else’ to him.

“Sure, I don’t mind.” He flashed a grin that deepened his dimple and caught her by surprise.

“You don’t have to. I don’t want to make you feel uncomf–”

“I don’t mind driving you, Y/N. Get in.” He patted the roof of his car, and Alice aimed a pointed glare at him as if she hadn’t sighed like a schoolgirl when they shook hands.

Although Y/N understood Alice’s concern and was well aware that she would be spending three hours in the car with her ex, going with him sounded like a better idea than taking a taxi.

She hadn’t sat behind the wheel since the accident and had only let Harry drive her around. But somehow she trusted Blake. She’d trusted him with most of her first times, and being in a relationship with him for two years had convinced her that he was a careful driver.

“Y/N!”

The solitary voice caught her by surprise. She whipped around to see Niall crossing the street and stalking toward her with a bubbly grin on his face.

“Is that Niall Horan?” Alice unconsciously dug her nail into Y/N's arm, and Y/N winced as she pulled away.

“What are you doing here, Niall?”

“I had a photoshoot in this area and I thought we should hang out. You know, since we’re officially friends now.” He raked his fingers through his hair and arched his mouth when he noticed Blake. “Hey, man.”

Blake only raised his palm, saying nothing.

“This is Alice,” Y/N said as she gripped Alice’s hard shoulders. “She’s a big fan of yours, so please be nice to her.”

"Nice to meet you," Niall said. "Alice is a pretty name."

When he took Alice's hand and pressed a kiss to it, Y/N thought her friend would just pass out right in front of them. Alice might be bold with Blake, Isaac, and even Harry, but facing Niall, she suddenly forgot how to speak. Which might be a good thing because she said crazy things when she was nervous, and Y/N couldn’t handle more crazy right now.

“I’m sorry, Niall. I’m actually leaving.”

“Oh, where are you going?”

“We’re going to Holmes Chapel,” Blake answered on her behalf, still leaning against his car. He didn’t seem frustrated that she and her friends were wasting his time, and she truly wondered why.

Niall turned back to her with an eyebrow raised. “Weren’t you going with Harry tomorrow?”

“Apparently not,” she huffed. “But don’t worry. I’ll text him to let him know.”

“I can give you a ride.”

Niall pointed to the black Audi parked on the other side of the street. A man in a black suit, buzzed head, twice her size, gave them a cold stare as Niall waved and smiled at him.

“That’s Barry. He’s cool.”

She took a surprised breath, considering Barry for a quick second. “I think I’ll be fine with Blake.”

She would have agreed to go with Niall in a heartbeat, if there was just Niall, and he was driving a less luxurious vehicle. She could already imagine how badly her body would ache when they arrived, as she wouldn’t dare to move a single muscle in his new car, especially when Barry was the one who drove it.

“Okay.” Niall gave a nonchalant shrug as he fished out his phone and made a quick call. “Hey, man.” He gave the scary man across the street a peace sign. “I’ll stay with my friend. You may leave now. Thanks, Barry.”

Y/N watched Niall’s bodyguard/chauffeur get into the shiny Audi, not knowing what to expect when Niall put his phone away and switched his attention back to her.

“Let’s go.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “What do you mean?”

“I’m going with you,” he said with a smirk, “and Blake.”

“Can I come, too, please?” Alice interjected as she tugged Y/N’s arm. “I’ll be quiet as a mouse, you won’t even know I’m there.”

“I’m not the one who gets to decide here, Al,” Y/N grumbled.

“Alice and Niall can join us,” Blake interfered, at last. “The more the merrier.”

When Alice started bouncing like a kid in a sweet shop, he mouthed it’s okay to Y/N, and she responded with an apologetic twitch of her lips that was meant to be a smile. If he was only acting to be polite to her friends, she’d feel so shitty.

Blake opened the door on the passenger side for her, but Niall quickly got in and buckled his seatbelt. With a sigh, she joined Alice in the backseat. Something told her that this was going to be the longest three hours she had ever experienced.

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.

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Gemma tightened her fingers around her phone. With one hand in her hair, she kept pacing back and forth in her hotel room, the beating of her heart accelerating with each ring. She hated phone calls. There was something so nerve-wracking about talking to someone and not knowing what their true reaction was. However, she knew Asher wouldn’t hold anything back.

When you’d been with someone for two years, you’d figure out their patterns. You could predict what they were going to say or do in a certain situation. And she wished it hadn’t been the case this time as what she was expecting was pretty awful.

She’d always considered Asher’s bad temper a minor flaw, but it hadn’t been easy lately. His business was going down. His dad had decided to stop pouring money into his failed ventures, which was why he’d been spending so much time with his family. He wanted to be on his father’s good side while sweet-talking his mother into helping him.

He was a mama’s boy, like Harry. The only difference was that Harry genuinely loved his family and would never blame Gemma for his own mistakes. Asher, on the other hand, took his exasperation out on her, making her feel like she’d been the cause of all of the bad things that’d happened to him in the last couple of months. She’d been walking on eggshells around him, well aware of how toxic that was, but the idea of ending a two-year relationship was too intimidating.

The ringing abruptly stopped. And so did she.

“Yes?” Asher spoke. He hadn’t heard from her in two days, and that was all she got from him. Yes?

“I have to tell you something,” she said anyway, trying to sound more composed than she looked. Perhaps a phone call was a good idea after all.

“I also have something to tell you. Can I go first?”

“Sure.” As much as she wanted to get this off her chest, the more she delayed, the more time there was to prepare herself for his reaction. She’d never seen anyone confess to their partner that they’d cheated and receive instant forgiveness, not even in movies. It definitely wouldn’t be the case for her and Asher.

“I think we should take a break.”

Her brain slowed down, unable to process that information. Her mouth opened and shut a few times like a goldfish until she could speak. “What do you mean?”

She knew exactly what a break meant. She just couldn’t bring herself to believe he’d actually proposed it, at least not before she told him about the kiss.

“I want us to stop seeing each other for a while.”

“We haven’t seen each other in weeks, Ash.”

“Come on, Gem, you know this is inevitable. We’ve been fighting constantly.” Yes. Because of him. “And I can’t remember the last time we had sex.”

“So you’re suggesting that we take a break so you could fuck other people?”

A long stretch of silence followed her question. Waves of anger splashed over her as she gripped the phone so tightly her knuckles turned white. She couldn’t believe she’d been so scared to tell him the truth, and then he’d proposed something like this without any sign of guilt.

“We both need this, Gem.”

“You’re right. We do,” she said despite the lump in her throat. “Goodbye, Ash.”

She ended the call before he could say another word and rushed to open the window. She needed some fresh air, otherwise, she might throw up.

Gripping the sides of the window frame, she took in a sharp breath. When she opened her eyes again, she saw a familiar Prius parked in front of the building. It looked like the one in Harry’s car collection, but wasn’t he in Holmes Chapel right now?

She’d gotten her answer as soon as the door was opened, and Isaac stepped out, phone in his hand. When he brought it up to his ear, her phone started buzzing, and she instantly grabbed it and tapped answer.

“Hello?”

“I’m here. Let’s go,” he said.

“What?”

“I’m driving you, remember?”

“Driving me where?”

“To Holmes Chapel.” His soft laugh melted the coldness remaining in her heart from the phone call with Asher. After an awkward pause, he said, “Oh shit, didn’t Harry tell you? He asked me to pick you up.”

She shook her head even though he couldn’t see. “I said I’d take the train.”

“You don’t have to. Your mum asked me to come for dinner and I just needed a reason to get out of town.”

Something told her Harry hadn’t asked him to pick her up, and she hated how good that made her feel.

When the thought of Asher crossed her mind, she snapped out of her fantasy. This wasn’t right. She was a hypocrite for being angry at Asher and then having butterflies thinking about her brother’s best friend. Clearly she wasn’t going to sit in a car with Isaac for three hours after what she’d done.

“Come on, Gem. We don’t have to talk about it.”

It.

He couldn’t even say the word. Her kiss must have disgusted him. She’d forced herself on him, and he was still nice enough to offer to drive her. He was only doing this because he was nice, because he was Isaac, not because he had feelings for her. Why would she want him to have feelings for her, anyway? She was still with Asher. Kind of. And she would eventually have to tell him that she’d cheated on him and then beg for his forgiveness.

Now that she thought about it, she believed she deserved this. She needed to start acting like a grown woman and dared to face what she’d done.

“Okay, give me a minute,” she told Isaac.

“All right.” A grin could be heard in his voice before the call disconnected. She sighed roughly, tucked her phone into the pocket of her jeans as she gathered essential things and quickly headed out.

When Isaac saw her walk toward him from the building, his first instinct was to shove his hands in the pockets of his trench coat, giving her a smile so courteous that it made her skin crawl. He loved giving and receiving hugs, but he didn’t do it with her anymore because she’d crossed the line.

He opened the door on the passenger side for her, and she got into his car, buckled her seatbelt as he got behind the wheel. The door was closed, muffling the traffic noise, and she could hear the pulse in her throat loud and clear.

She had to say something.

“What happened to the Range Rover?”

“Oh, this one’s Harry’s,” he said, his voice casual as he started the engine and drove back onto the street. “He lent it to Emilia so she could go to a movie audition. She asked me to return it.”

The nervousness was washed away by irritation as her face screwed up. “He lends her his cars now? Harry is anal about letting people drive his babies.”

“He did lend it to her. I asked him,” Isaac said with a shrug. “He said she’s basically family now.”

“I need to slap him when I see his stupid face.”

“And I need to watch that. Maybe film it, too,” he chuckled, eyes on the road.

She allowed a goofy smile to play on her lips, which vanished as she started to analyse what he’d said. “Did you meet Emilia today?”

“We did a photoshoot. She’s my new model.”

“Oh,” she said, unsure how she wanted that one word to sound.

Before she could dwell on the idea of him and Emilia, he broke the silence. “Harry said you’d asked him to go alone, but then you changed your mind. Is everything okay?”

“Yeah.” She tucked a strand behind her ear, fighting the urge to look at the side of his face as they talked. “I wanted him to fix the mess that he’d started, but then I realised he was an idiot and would most likely mess things up even more.”

That wasn’t the reason. Harry was no longer the careless kid who randomly brought up Winton and made their mum cry without knowing it. He was an adult and would figure out a sensible way to talk to their mum about Winton and Emilia. So why did Gemma insist on going home?

It took a moment’s thought for her to realise she’d done this out of guilt, and maybe desperation, too. She felt bad about forcing her brother to do the hard work, and at the same time, needed the safety of her family to escape from the stress her relationship had put upon her. She wished she could tell Isaac everything, but she didn’t want to make this trip about her.

“Are you mad at me?” His question brought her back to reality. Only then did she realise they had left the city and were heading onto a country road between large green fields. “Gem, are you mad at me?”

Her heart skipped a beat as she began to fidget with her handbag on her lap. He’d promised that they wouldn’t talk about the kiss. Did he lie to get her into this car?

“No, I’m not.” She winced at how forceful that sounded.

“Are you sure?”

“You said we didn’t have to talk about it,” she snapped and stiffened in her seat when he darted a quick glance her way before focusing on the road again.

He swallowed once. “I just don’t want us to be awkward with each other, Gem.”

“You’re right.” She lowered her face and scratched the tip of her nose. “I’m sorry for what I did. I wasn’t thinking.”

“I know why you did it.”

He did?

“You had a fight with your boyfriend and you were confused, right?”

“No, I–” She paused, feeling overwrought. “Why aren’t you upset? You should be angry at me.”

“No, I shouldn’t.”

“Yes, you should!” She almost turned and sat upright if it wasn’t for the seatbelt holding her back. “I kissed you when you didn’t want to be kissed. You should be angry.”

“Gemma,” the sound of her name vibrated with his warm laughter, and she felt her body melting into the leather seat. “I kissed you back, so I’m equally guilty here.”

Had he kissed her back? She couldn’t recall. The comforting scent of his cologne accompanied by the shock and guilt must have dulled her senses. But if he had kissed her back, did it mean he’d wanted her, too?

“Don’t worry,” he said after stealing another glance at her. “I know you’re in a long-term relationship. And I don’t want to mess it up, so let’s pretend it never happened. I think you weren’t aware that you were kissing me. I mean, someone like you would never kiss me.”

“Someone like me?” Her gaze jumped to the side of his face. “What does that mean?”

Thinking she was offended, he awkwardly explained, “That...that was meant to be a compliment. You’re a strong and independent woman. You’re smart, beautiful, funny–”

“Pull over,” she said, her heart pounding in her ears.

A glimpse of horror crossed his face as he faltered, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to–”

“Pull over, Isaac.” Her voice was strained, her eyes intense. The car reached a standstill on the side of the road, and her mind was spiralling out of control as she unbuckled her seatbelt and launched herself across the gearshift. She was on his lap, arms wrapped around his neck.

His body was stiff as a board when he dropped his gaze to her mouth, making her wonder if he’d been thinking about her since they’d kissed. She knew she had. The memory made her lips tingle as if he’d kissed them again. She wanted him to kiss them again.

They brought their mouths together at the same time. His hands claimed her face to deepen the kiss, and euphoria shocked through her system as she kissed him harder. She fisted the fabric at his chest, pulling him closer while his hands swept down her back, squeezing her hips. In that moment, when they were alone on the empty road surrounded by windy green fields, something that was meant to be wrong, felt like the rightest thing she had ever done.

.

.

.

Harry had been waiting on the porch since he’d gotten the text message from Y/N. His mum had told him to wait inside, but watching the street somehow made time fly faster. Or so he hoped.

He rested his elbows on his knees, face between his palms, unconsciously tapping his right foot. He did deserve this. He’d blindsided her and now she was making him pay by going home with her ex. Fuck that lawyer kid. Who did he think he was? If there hadn’t been Niall and Alice, Harry would have driven all the way back to London to pick her up.

Twenty minutes felt like two hours as he waited, and when he spotted a car from a distance, he immediately bounced onto his feet. But it was Isaac and Gemma in his black Prius, not his Bambi.

“Wow, aren’t you excited to see me?” Gemma sneered as she stepped out of the vehicle and walked towards him.

Isaac greeted Harry with a hug, and Harry pulled away and nodded his head toward Gemma. “You didn’t have to drive her, you know. I could’ve picked her up at the station.”

Silent, Gemma thinned her lips as Isaac rubbed the back of his head. Why were they acting so awkward? Had Harry said something wrong?

“I know what’s going on here.” Harry put his hands on his hips and narrowed his eyes at both of them. “You’re mad at me for lending Emi my car.”

Gemma’s shoulders dipped as she let out a sigh. “Even that name irritates me.”

“Oh, come on, Gem.” He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her to his chest, but she pushed him away. “That one is my least favourite,” he said, pointing to the Prius.

A corner of her lips quirked up as she brushed past him. “And you’re my least favourite person.”

Isaac tossed him the key and followed her, but before they made it to the porch, another car entered their street. Harry’s Bambi was here.

“My Bambi’s here!” he squealed like a little kid, making Gemma snort.

“Wait, Smiley’s here?”

“It’s weird that you still call her that, but yeah, Niall’s here, too,” he told Isaac and stalked toward the car which had pulled over in front of his house.

Niall got out first, stretching his limbs before pulling Harry in for an embrace. “You owed me, Harold.”

“I know. Thanks, mate.” Harry let go of Niall to hug Alice. “Didn’t know you were coming.”

“I didn’t either, but here I am. Lovely neighbourhood!” Alice lifted her shoulders as she adjusted the strap of her bag and then lowered her voice to almost a whisper, “Niall’s single, right?”

“Al! What are you whispering about?”

Harry’s gaze jumped to Y/N, who had finished saying goodbye to Blake. When Blake saw him, the kid raised a palm and a smile which looked fake as hell, but Harry managed to keep his calm and returned one just as plastic.

Y/N walked around the car and threw herself into Harry’s arms, holding his face and kissing his lips. He held her flat against him as he kissed her harder. He could hear Niall making a gagging noise, but he didn’t care as long as he got to rub this in Blake’s face. Because he was as mature as a nine-year-old, and he was fine with it.

“Stop eating her face, pervert.”

Gemma’s comment broke him and Y/N apart. He flipped his sister off and, with a smug look on his face, watched Blake’s car drive ahead and disappear at the end of the road. A swat on the chest made his eyes jump back to Y/N.

“You’re in so much trouble, Harry.” Her nose wrinkled, and he wondered if she knew how cute she looked when she made that face. He cupped her cheeks and kissed her forehead when Gemma took their friends into the house.

“I’m sorry, babe. Why didn’t you text me sooner?” he said with a pout. “You waited until you were almost here to tell me you were coming.” With fucking Blake.

“Well, I knew you were going to wait on the porch. Couldn’t make you wait for three hours.”

His heart fluttered as he pressed a kiss to her temple. “You know me so well, kid.”

“I’m still pretty mad at you,” she said. “But I do have a lot to tell you about.”

“About your book?”

She smiled and nodded. He released a relieved sigh as he brought her hand to his mouth and kissed her knuckles. “I was afraid that you’d be mad at me. The clip and everything.”

She lifted an eyebrow. “Would you prefer that I’m mad at you?”

“No.” He shook his head and pecked her lips then either corner of it. “I’m a bad boyfriend. I should’ve driven you, not your stupid ex. Thank God for Niall and Alice.”

“Niall was even worse than you,” she giggled.

He nuzzled her neck, tilting her head up to press a series of kisses to her jaw. When his hands swept from her back to her spine, she snatched his wrists and pinned them to his chest. The way she arched an eyebrow and clicked her tongue made his cock swell against the fly of his pants. When her pupils dilated, he knew she felt it, but she didn’t acknowledge it and gave him a chaste kiss on the lips before pulling away.

“I have to say hi to Marcy and Dad. I’ll come over later, kay?”

“Tell them to join us for dinner.” He tugged her arm, not letting her go just yet. “Bradford and I can bond over our hatred for Blake. It’ll be fun.”

“I’m sure he’d love to come, consider how much he loves Isaac.”

“Damn it,” he cursed when she burst out laughing and cupped his face to kiss him twice on the cheeks. With a lovesick smile, he watched her pad across her front yard and waited until she’d gone into her house to finally return to his.

His mother was so happy to have so many guests that night. She’d cooked a big meal for everyone. Even Bradford and Marcy came to join them. Just like Harry’s promise, he and Bradford had bonded over their same intense dislike for Blake Roman. Y/N had to stuff their mouths with spaghetti so they would stop talking. Alice had won Niall over with her review about the first book she’d read in her life, and now Niall was reading the first book in his life. Weird, but cute.

What was even weirder, however, was to see his sister being so close with Isaac. They’d been whispering back and forth the whole night, and not once did Gemma mention Asher. Harry didn’t like Asher that much so he didn’t mind, and it was good to see Gemma happy again. He hadn’t seen her smile that big before. His mum, too.

His heart sank to the bottom of his chest as he remembered the reason they were all here. He had to tell his mum about Winton.

She would be so disappointed. She might even cry. And this dinner, all of these jokes, all this laughter would mean nothing when she heard about Winton and Emilia. Harry hated to be the reason the women he loved cry. But if he didn’t tell his mum, and she found out herself, he’d be the shittiest son in the world. This would hurt either way, one less than the other.

Dinner was over soon. While everyone gathered in the living room for a game, Harry and Gemma volunteered to clean up. Just like when they were kids, they did something wrong and volunteered to do the housework so the chance of them being forgiven would be higher. Harry knew what he’d done wrong. He didn’t know why Gemma was here.

“They’re playing Scrabble.”

The voice made him flinch before two arms wrapped around his waist, pulling her body toward his. Y/N tiptoed to kiss his neck, and he giggled like a little boy. Gemma gave them a funny look but didn’t say a word because she, and everyone else, was already used to their public affection.

“Let’s wait until tomorrow morning,” she told Harry, and his face screwed up.

“And ruin Mum’s entire Sunday?”

“Well, would you prefer that she stay up all night?”

“I agree with Gemma, baby.” Y/N tightened her grip around his waist, resting her cheek against his back. She felt so small pressed against him like this, and since he’d gone two days without fucking, the thought of holding her up against the wall and spreading her open with his arms beneath her knees was enough to turn his balls blue. He would make that fantasy a reality if Gemma weren’t here, and they weren’t one door away from the only group of people whose opinions about them mattered.

“Okay, tomorrow then,” he said and turned on the tap to wash his hands.

“Alice will sleep with me tonight,” Y/N said. “Niall or Isaac can use our guest room.”

“I’ll sacrifice Niall. Your guest room is shit, and I love Isaac a bit more than Niall.”

She pinched his side and he jumped, but her arms forced his body still.

“I’ll let Gemma pick then,” he said.

“What?” Gemma asked, distracted.

“Isaac and Niall,” he raised a smirk. “One will have to sleep in Y/N’s shitty guest room. One stays here with us.”

“It’s not shitty,” Y/N said in a protesting tone.

“Babe, I saw a rat the last time we had se—”

She smacked a hand over his mouth before he could finish the sentence. As Gemma rolled her eyes at them, he plucked Y/N’s fingers off his face and told his sister, “Go ahead. You pick.”

She opened her mouth. For a second, he thought she was going to answer, but then she released a huff and said, “I’m not doing this with you children.”

“Children?!” He dropped his jaw as she stalked out of the kitchen. Y/N dissolved into laughter as he spun around, took each of her arms and draped it over his shoulder.

A smile played on her lips, and she asked, “Do you wanna join them or go on a date with me?”

“Oooh, where is this date?”

“The cemetery.”

His face went blank for a second as she stifled a laugh. “Just kidding.” She pinched his cheeks. “I’m going to see my mum. You coming?”

“Why does it have to be now?”

“Are you coming or not?”

He was so whipped he would have gone without knowing it was the cemetery. “Fine. But if we see a ghost, I’m leaving you behind.”

She laughed and shoved him away, and they raced each other to the living room. They told everyone that they’d go out for a walk. And as he escorted her to the door, Niall and Alice started clapping and cheering, and Gemma tossed a pillow at Niall to get him to shut up.

There wasn’t a particular reason that Y/N had chosen to plan a cemetery visit at this hour. She simply enjoyed strolling around town in the night as much as Harry did. When he was a teenager, he used to bring one of his dates to the field behind his house, and they had taken long walks under the night sky and made out in his car afterward.

He’d thought it’d been the most romantic experience in his life, until two years ago, when they’d visited her mother’s grave together. That was when he’d realised the cemetery could be romantic. Everything turned romantic when he was with her.

So if she wanted to walk around a graveyard at one in the morning, he would blindly follow, no questions asked.

After finding a safe parking spot, they walked to the tall iron gate that looked like the set of a Hitchcock movie. No one had bothered to polish it since the last time they’d been here, and he guessed no one intended to anyway.

Just like the last time, she snuck through an opening in the fence to get into the cemetery, and he tagged after, his heart thumping loudly. They’d better get to share a cell if they got arrested for trespassing.

It was a little foggy at 1 AM. The air was cold and the grass was damp. They padded across a desolate lot and were careful not to get their shoes dipped into the mud. As they followed the brick pathway, he negotiated his way around the gravestones, trying to keep up because she was walking too fast, like a ghost. The thought made him shiver. Probably not the best comparison to make when they were literally in a cemetery.

After a five minute walk, they finally arrived. Her mother’s headstone stood erect, bathed in light spilt from the ashen moon. Seeing the fresh flowers on the grave, Harry assumed Bradford had just visited his wife today. Y/N had told Harry that her dad came here every week to trim the grass and clean the stone. It was nice how much things had changed since their last visit.

As she squatted down to rearrange the flowers, Harry spotted a newly dug grave nearby and pointed to it, grinning. “Your mum’s getting a new neighbour.”

Y/N put a finger to her lips and shushed him. “Don’t disrespect the dead! They’ll come for you tonight!”

He scoffed at the threat, but as a cold breeze whisked right through his clothes, he immediately cowered to her side, and she doubled over, almost choking on her own laughter.

After giving her mother updates on her book and his Oscar nomination, Y/N kissed her fingers, pressed them against the moonwashed stone and bid her mother goodbye. They followed the same path weaved around tombstones to go back to the opening between the fence. With a feeling of being watched, Harry kept looking behind him as he clung onto Y/N like she was his weapon.

“Don’t look back,” she said. “My mum is following us.”

The shadow of a smile on her lips almost got him running for his life. He swore he’d never do this with her again, knowing for a fact that he would, if she only asked.

Once they returned to their parking spot, they retrieved two cans of Coca-Cola from Y/N’s bag and lay on their backs on the bonnet of his car to watch the stars. His adrenaline from their stroll across the cemetery was finally washed away as he listened to her ranting about her new book.

He wasn’t a writer so he wasn’t qualified to give her any advice. He mostly just listened, and because he knew Y/N didn’t want people’s advice. She vent her frustrations to feel better for a while, and most likely would end up doing whatever felt right to her.

Soon the topic of work bored her out. She extended a hand toward the sky and closed her fingers around nothing as if she was grasping the stars.

“Have you read The Little Prince?”

The random question put a smile to his lips. “The book Alice and Niall couldn’t shut up about during dinner?”

“Yeah.”

He took her hand that was in the air and brought it to his mouth so he could kiss her knuckles. “I have. Why?”

“My mum read it to me when I was little,” she said. “I used to wish I’d lived on the little prince’s tiny planet. All you needed to do was move your chair a few steps and you could see the night sky whenever you liked. We could live in this same moment, over and over again.”

“And never grow older,” his voice softened, and she replied with a quiet hum.

“Wouldn’t that be great?”

He cocked his head to the side and met her softened gaze. But then a hint of worry washed out that dreamy haze, and a line appeared between her brows.

“Do you sometimes wish I was cooler?”

That was a big shift from the story of the little prince. Surprised, he squeezed her fingers gently. “What do you mean? You’re always cool.”

“I mean, cool like...like your friends cool.” She huffed in frustration as she didn’t know how to properly get her point across, but he’d already figured it out.

“You should’ve told me the clip still bothers you,” he said with a frown, and the way she pursed her lips confirmed his speculations. “Bambi…”

“We used to have a lot in common when we were kids.” Her bottom lips trembled as her breaths quickened. “Now our lives are so different. And I’m fine with it, and I know you are too because we love each other. But sometimes it feels like…” She stalled, and with no intention of finishing that sentence, dropped her gaze to her hand in his. “I wish I fit better in your life, so when people see us together they’d just accept it without questioning why.”

“Why do you care what they think, Bambi?”

She bit her bottom lip, thinking for a second. “I’m trying not to. It’s hard.”

A smile stretched his lips as he leaned in, stroked his thumb across her cheek and kissed her mouth lightly. Her lashes fluttered when he pulled away.

“The little prince has a flower, right?” he asked.

“Yes, he has a rose,” she said with a pensive expression. “The only one on his planet.”

He nodded once. “If I remember correctly, she’s a very beautiful flower. She shows off her thorns and puts on a superior attitude, but is actually a sensitive little thing and doesn’t like to expose her vulnerability.”

“Oh no, I’m the flower,” she gasped, making him chuckle.

He brushed her hair out of her face and went on, “When the prince comes to the earth, he finds himself in a garden with hundreds of roses, all as gorgeous as the one he loves.”

She continued for him, “But he still thinks his rose is unique and more important than all of the other roses together.”

“Yes.” He propped himself up on an elbow to lie on his side. “And why is that?”

“Because he loves her, and he knows she loves him, too,” she said while caressing his face with the back of her hand.

“That’s right.” He nodded again. “Most people think the prince is stupid for travelling from planet to planet for a rose, but he doesn’t care what they think. No matter where he is, he always thinks about his little flower. He fell in love with her when he was little and has spent his whole life watering and caring for her. Love comes from investing in other people, isn’t it?”

Her smile widened as she combed her fingers through his hair, and her cheeks bloomed with colours when she drew him in and kissed him deeply. He melted from the intensity of her lips as his hands smoothed down her arm, squeezed her behind, and pulled her as close as he could. The hardness of his body against her softness. Adrenaline coursed through his veins. The butterflies in his stomach. He was spiralling out of control.

“I’m crazy about you,” he muttered against her lips and threaded his fingers in her locks. “I don’t care how different we are. When I first said I love you, I promised I’d stay. So I’m yours as long as you still want me, Bambi.”

The corners of her eyes crinkled as she wrapped her arms around his neck and nuzzled his cheek. “I want you forever. Can you handle that?”

He drew her closer, and their bodies came flush together. “Forever and ever, baby,” he said before kissing her again.

[kimmietea]

Yikes! (Ben Hardy x Reader)

Summary: Reader is a journalist and has to take over an interview last minute. She has a well known reputation for being  calm, cool and collected. That is...until Ben Hardy walks through the door.

Warnings: Fluff, Cursing and lots of dirty thoughts

A/N: This is my first time writing for Ben so please take it easy one me. I run on comments and feed back so please don’t hold back. The Italics is the reader talking to herself. Enjoy!

“Hey Y/N uhh, Tommy’s wife just went into labor and had to leave. They want to know if you can do the interview instead.”

“Of course! Did he leave his questions somewhere or do i need to come with some?” You asked your assistant and best friend, Morgan. You stood from your desk and grabbed your phone shooting off a text to Tommy saying congratulations and not to worry about the interview, you had it all covered.

“Nope, got his questions right here.” Morgan said handing them to you as you walked down the hallway together towards the room the interview was being held. Being a journalist was your dream job. You had been at the company for 5 years now and you were known as the interviewer who was always calm, collected and never starstruck. Over the years you had the privilege of interviewing so many amazing actors and directors, singers and songwriters. You were always professional in a relaxed sort of way, that the person you were speaking with was very much at ease. You got many compliments from your boss about how the different celebs would go on and on about how great you were. How easy it was to talk with you and that you were definitely their favorite by far. You had become friends with many of the people you interviewed, making it even easier when they would return to talk and promote other projects.

You and Morgan entered the empty room and you took your seat in front of the camera and began to look over the questions. Tommy was great at his job but the questions he had were very generic. You did your best as a journalist to come up with questions these actors hadn’t heard and answered a hundred times before. You didn’t think Tommy would mind if you came up with some of your own. You realized you didn’t know who you were interviewing yet and stood and walked to Morgan who was looking through a bunch of papers Tommy’s assistant had passed off to her.

“Morgan, who am i talking to today?” You asked looking down at the papers in her hand.

“Uhh…” She flipped through the papers trying to find you an answer. She stopped on one page and read over it quickly before flipping to another until she found it.

“Wow okay, it’s..” She was cut off by the door opening and you boss walked it with the man you were about to interview.

“Oh Y/N perfect, this is Ben Hardy.” He said with a smile and you looked up from the papers to lock eyes with the beautiful blonde actor.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you.” He said with a smile and stepped forward with his hand out to shake. His voice a deep and creamy tone, it wrapped around you like a warm blanket, working its way under your skin where it wreaked havoc on your insides and stole your breath.

“Yikes.” You breathed you out just barely above a whisper. Morgan, standing that close definitely head you and her head snapped over to look at you stunned. You were never at a loss, this was really something. Your head was going a million miles a minute.

My god he is gorgeous. Those eyes, what color is that? Green? No, green is to plain, their jade maybe. Like two beautiful jade stones bewitched to suck the breath and sole right out of you.

“You alright, love?” He asked, smile still in place only now with a hit on smugness to it.

Fuck me, that voice, that accent.

You shook your head to clear your thoughts and managed to pull yourself together quickly.

“Sorry, yes hi. Lovely to meet you Ben. I’m Y/N Y/L/N.” You replied with a dazzling smile. You reached your hand out to shake his still waiting one.

“My apologies my hands are a bit cold. They love to keep this building like a meat locker.” You laughed doing your best to cover up the brain malfunction you suffered a minute ago. His deep chuckle vibrated down his arm, through your connected hands and spread across your body causing you to shiver slightly.

“Nah they’re perfect.” He said closing your hand in both of his and bring them to his lips to place the softest kiss on your knuckles. You prayed to any version of god that may be listening, that Ben didn’t hear the soft whimper that managed to squeak out.

Fuckin hell why even have knees if they are just going to stop working.

He gently released your hand. A soft blush and grin spread across his face. More time then you realised must have passed as you both just stared at each other because Morgan cleared her throat and it made you jump.

“Um right ok. So Ben, i know Tommy was supposed to do this interview with you but his wife is actually giving birth as we speak so you’re stuck with me.” You laughed, shrugging your shoulders hoping to ease the tension.

“You say it like it’s a bad thing.” He replied, tilting his head sweetly to the side. You laughed nervously and tucked a piece of hair behind your ear. You glanced down trying to hide your blush before looking back up at him.

“Yes well uhh, why don’t you take a seat in front of the camera and we’ll get started.” He nodded and took the seat opposite the one you were in earlier. When you turned to look at Morgan her eyebrows were raised and she had a massive, all knowing grin on her face.

“Shut up.”

“I didn’t say anything!” She laughed.

“Yeah but you were thinking about it.” You said and took your seat across from Ben. You let out a deep breath and pretended to look through the papers from Tommy. You boss said something about Morgan handling the mics and the camera before leaving the room. Morgan handed you your mic pac and helped Ben with his.

Ok you can do this. He’s just a normal guy. An incredibly gorgeous and sweet guy but still just normal. I mean it’s not like he’s a prince or anything.

You took another deep breath and looked up. Morgan was finished with his mic and was now behind the camera giving you a thumbs up that she was ready to go.

“Ready?” You asked Ben with a smile.

“Ready.” He answered and slid his phone back into his pocket. You watched as his eyes moved from the floor, over your body slowly and finally meeting you gaze where he licked his lips and pulled the bottom one between his teeth to bite on before letting it go and a smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth.

“Wet”

“What?”

“What!”

“I thought you said something.” He said a hint of blush covering his cheeks.

Oh my fucking god you are an idiot! Did you seriously just say that out loud!?

“Uh m..me? No...no i..i didn’t say anything.” You stumbled over yourself and looked to Morgan, your eyes wide. She had a horrified shocked look on her face. Oh she definitely heard what you said.

God just take me out back and put me out of my misery. Come on Y/N get your shit together. Deep breath. You’re a professional, act like it.

You managed to get it together and continue on with the interview without embarrassing yourself again.

“Y/N, do you mind if I run to the toilet quickly?” Ben asked after about a half an hour of questions. You shuddered at the sound of him saying your name.

“Of course, It’s just down the hall to the left.”

“I’ll be right back.” He said and let his hand brush across the length of your shoulders from behind your chair as he walked by. As soon as the door was closed behind him, Morgan jumped into his empty seat across from you, a huge smile on her face.

“Y/N oh my god!” She shreked. “I have never seen you like this before.”

“I know. I have no idea what's happening to me.” You groaned and hid your face in your hands.

“I can’t believe you said wet out loud. I mean i understand the thought because damn that boy is gorgeous and the way he was eyeing you up!” She fanned herself. “But to say it out loud!”

“Uggh stop please. I have never been so embarrassed. He’s so sweet and funny, and the way he talks. Not just the accent but the words he uses and how he carries himself. I just melt at the fuckin thought of him.”

“I wouldn’t be too embarrassed, he’s clearly into you as well.” She said and patted your knee.

“Yeah well if he is, he is doing a much better job of being subtle. I couldn't even tell you what some of his answers were. All I can think about when he talks is how amazing it would be to have him whisper into my neck all the dirty things he wants to do to me while his big strong hands run all over me.”

Morgan opened her mouth to say something but the sound of the door closing caught both of you off guard and you looked to see Ben standing by the now closed door.

“Everything alright ladies?” He asked with a smile and your entire body felt like it was on fire. You were sure your face was beat red.

Please, please, please tell me he didn’t hear any of that.

“We’re fine. I believe Y/N only has a few more questions so we should be done soon.” Morgan saved.

“Actually, That's it. The rest of these are just nonsense ones Tommy left behind.”  You said, standing at removing your mic pac. You never wanted an interview to be over so much in your life and you've interviewed some terrible people.

“So we’re done then?” Ben asked and you nodded. “Shame, I was having such a nice time.” You watched as Morgan helped him remove his mic. As she pulled the wire from under his shirt it got caught and she lifted his shirt to free it. Catching a glimpse of what was under his shirt sent your head reeling. You felt dizzy.

Well if I didn’t need Morgan to run out and get me new underwear before, i definitely do now.

You had to bite your lip to keep from moaning out loud and causing yourself to further die of embarrassment. You looked up to see Ben watching you, a red flush on his cheeks and down his neck, he was sporting a shy smile.

Morgan eyed to the two of you before she spoke.

“I’m going to go put the equipment away. Ben if i don’t see you again before you leave It was great meeting you and i hope you come back soon.” Ben managed to collect himself and turned towards her.

“It was great meeting you as well Morgan. And not to worry I will definitely be back. Even if it’s just to say hello.” He smiled in his charming way and she smiled back and left the room. He turned to look at you.

“Y/N it’s been an absolute pleasure to speak with you today. I look forward to doing it again soon.” His voice was softer than it had been all day. You could feel yourself swooning.

Don’t pass out, don’t pass out, don’t pass out.

“I loved speaking with you too. Well for your next project or when stop by to say hello, make sure you come see me. I’ll be here.” His smile widened and he opened his mouth to speak but was cut off by your boss entering the room.

“Oh good Ben, you haven't left yet. Come to my office.” He said throwing an arm over the blonde’s shoulders and pulling him from the room. Ben looked back at you and all you could do was wave and watch him walk away.

You went back to your office where Morgan was waiting for you.

“Oh my god pleeease tell me something happened after I left.” She begged the second you walked in the door. You laughed and shook your head.

“Seriously!” She groaned.

“I mean, I thought maybe he was going to say something but Max came in and took him to his office."

"Ugh that sucks. I thought for sure he was gonna ask you out or at least throw you up against the wall and make sweet, passionate love to you."

"Morgan!"

"What!?" She laughed and you cracked a smile. You really would be lost without her.

"Knock knock." Both you and Morgan jumped, her knocking the phone off your desk in the process, and turned to your open door to see Ben.

Jesus! What is with this day!?

"Ben, I uhh, thought you left." You stammered as Morgan picked your phone up off the floor and placed it back on you desk.

"I was just on my way out actually. Just wanted to say goodbye before I go." He explained, stepping into the room.

"I'm just gonna go finish some work." Morgan said gesturing towards the door before making her way over to it.

"Thank you Morgan." You said with a look. She nodded at Ben as she walked by and he smiled in reply. When she was behind him she gave you a thumbs up and a wink before closing the door.

Ben had his hands shoved deep in his pockets as he rocked on his heels, he eyes not leaving the floor. Suddenly he was a completely different person. Earlier he was this sexy, confident, slightly cocky guy and now he was shy, self conscious, almost cuddly.

“So umm.” He scratched at the back of his head. “I wanted to ask, would you uhh, maybe like to go to dinner with me some time?” Your heart was pounding in your chest.

“Really?” You asked quietly. You couldn't believe it. You had done nothing but make a fool out of yourself all day and yet here you were. He nodded, kicking his foot a little.

God he’s so cute.

“I'd love to.” His head snapped up a shocked expression on his face.

“Yeah?” He asked, hopeful.

“Yeah, of course.” He let out a breath and a huge, shining smile took over his face.

Ugh that smile. Kill me.

“That’s...that’s great.” He gushed. “How desperate would i seem if I asked if you were free tonight?” He smirked. You laughed and smiled at him.

“Not desperate at all and im totally free."

"So dinner tonight then?" He asked, taking a small step closer.

"Dinner tonight." You confirmed. He reached into his pocket and passed you his phone to put your number in.

"I'll text you in a bit, time and place." He said now standing much closer. You entered your number and handed the phone back to him. You hands brushed his and you felt sparks shot up your arm.

"Sounds good." He smiled softly and leaned in to press a tender kiss to your cheek, one hand laid gently on your hip. The feel of his strong hand on your hip sent waves of heat washing over your entire body. Before moving away he whispered into your skin.

“I’ll see you later, love.”

Oh great. Nice subtle way to tell me you definitely hear me earlier.

He pulled back and sent a wink your way before walking to the door. He turned and gave you one last smile before leaving. You yelled for Morgan to come in after he was far enough away.

“I know, I know.” She said excitedly running into your office. “ I heard everything! I left your desk phone on intercom so i could listen in from my desk.”

“Morgan!”

[be-ready-when-i-say-go]

In Sorrow and In Joy- Part 3: Lullaby

Luke learns the hard way what it means to be a dad and how to keep his family safe and together. Dad!Luke with a South Asian Reader. This is a collaborative experience with A Family of Five.

CW: Over the course of this series, themes of racism and prejudice on the basis of religion are present. Please read or skip as necessary.

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No one has my permission to repost my work of fiction. This includes translations, as well. 

__________________________________

Zahra watches you and Luke bounce a baby each, shushing their cries with a soothing hand on their backs. The twins, Zeek and Noor, were not what she was expecting at all. Granted, Zahra thought it to be a miracle that her parents had finally moved back in together. It took a while. Only a year and a half ago did Luke and you reconcile, him moving into the house. Ra notices that you Luke wears a ring, but you don’t. She never asks about it really. The mere reconnection of her family was miracle enough. 

Two siblings were something she never thought of. Maybe it wouldn’t be all bad either. When Luke said that she would be getting a baby brother and sister, she imagined having someone to play with, someone to have adventures with, someone that could do things besides cry. But cry is all the twins seemed to do. There was their feed me cry, I need someone to change me cry, I’m sleepy cry, ‘Someone put me down before I was satisfied’ cry. Just cry, cry, cry, cry, cry. Their screams hurt her brain. 

She wants to cry right now. She wants to run away; she wants her parents back. “Mum?” Ra tries. 

“Yeah, baby?” you ask. 

“When can we play?”

Ra knows there’s going to be a sigh. There’s always a sigh. That does not change today either. Ra fights tears as she hears the sigh expelling from your lungs. “I’m sorry, soon, I promise.”

Zahra nods, though she wants to scream Don’t make promises you can’t keep. She turns instead stairs and climbs the steps, small first curling around the railing. Those babies, they’re ruining everything for her. When Calum and Harlowe come to visit the newest additions to the Hemmings household, Ra watches from the steps as everyone coos over the babies. This is it, she thinks. She is destined to be forgotten. 

Her aunt walks over, after noticing the small child sitting all alone. “Why all by your lonesome?” Harlowe asks.

“Just want to be left alone,” Zahra answers, standing. 

“What if I don’t want to be alone?” her aunt teases. Ra doesn't respond; she grabs her stuffed bear and walks away. “Ra, wait, c’mon. You know you can talk to me.”

The little girl nods, pausing in her ascent to turn back to her aunt. “I just don’t want to.” She wants to talk; she wants someone to notice her. She’s happy someone has. It still cuts deep though that the wrong person did. What would she have to do to get you or Luke to notice her again? When would she get her parents her back? Did all babies require this much attention or was it just her brother and sister? Was she being forgotten?

A couple weeks later, as the twins are napping, you step out to your study. You know your school email is probably flooded with emails. While you’d normally take this time to nap as well. You feel a bit more energized though. Ra follows behind you. You pat the top of her head, “Want to help Mum?”

She nods, smiling brightly. Zahra really knows she’s not that much help, but now that Zeek and Noor are here she latches to whatever seconds she can get with you alone from the babies. Zahra pulls up her smaller chair next to yours, digging out her crayons. This is how she helps, drawing different scenes, coloring in her books. She likes to sit and watch you tapping over the keys. It’s in moments like this that Zahra feels like her parents aren’t being snatched away from her. 

After a little bit of coloring, she stands, walking to the bathroom. Luke notices her going on and right as she flushes to toilet, the cries start up. She waits, praying that they stop. Praying that the twins will shut up for just one second. Walking out of the bathroom, she sees Luke bouncing Noor. She’s a little fussy, but really only responds to you. “C’mon sweetheart,” Luke sighs to the baby, rubbing his large palm over her small back. He sings softly into the baby’s ear. Ra misses that, wishes he’d sing to her again. 

Luke looks over to Ra, smiling. She’s not sure how long she’s been standing there watching her father and her baby sister. But it’s long enough for her to feel like her chest is starting to hurt. It feels warm, like it’s on fire. “Wash your hands?” he asks. 

She nods. “Yes.” The word comes out harsly and broken. Of course she washes her hands. She knows better! She’s not a baby. 

Luke’s no stranger to that tone. “Ra, what’s wrong?” The baby in his arms finally quiets down, but he now has another problem on his hands. He sets Noor back down into her small rocker. 

Tears are stinging behind her eyes. Oh no, she’s going to cry. She’s going to break. She doesn't want to do this. A sob racks through her chest, lip quivering. Luke picks her up, settling onto the couch. Ra buries her face into his chest, grabbing fistful of his shirt. She cries, open mouthed and full of sobs into him. Luke kisses her hair, the black curls tickling his neck a little. Concern floods him, veins thumping in his throat. 

“Sweetheart, please talk to me,” he coaxes, hand rubbing at her small frame. She shakes against him. Worried that she’ll wake the babies, he picks her up, walking from the living room and into the back of the house. Ra cries into his neck, the tears rolling down his skin. “Ssh,” he whispers.

It’s clear she’s not stopping anytime soon. Luke hums, her favorite lullaby. Soon, the lyrics slip past his lips. He can’t help it, but soon tears are hitting his lower lowerline. He’s not sure what has got his baby so upset, but it breaks his heart. Luke continues walking around with Ra buried in his neck, arms tightly wound around his neck. “Please, Ra, tell Daddy what’s wrong?” he asks after going through the handful of her favorite songs.

She sniffles, pulling her face away. He can see the splotches of red and pink under her brown cheeks. “Can you sing more?” she asks, tiny hands playing at the scruff forming under his chin and on his cheeks. 

Luke nods. “Of course baby girl.” He carries her upstairs to the music room. Settling onto the piano bench, he helps Ra situate herself in his lap. Softly he plucks over the keys, singing some of their older songs to her. Ra watches as his hands slide across the black and white notes. She rests her hands over his, leaning side to side with him. 

Is this what she wanted? Did she just want some time? Luke remembers Harlowe mentioning that something seemed off with Ra, but the twins got sick and the whole thing about talking to her went out the window. He hadn’t intended to forget, but two babies even the second time around was still frazzling. They weren’t at the point yet where they would sleep throughout the night. It was a constant cycle of sleeping for a couple hours before one would fuss. If one fussed, the other cried too. They were tag teaming you and Luke, he was convinced. 

Zahra must have felt left out, left behind. Luke’s chest constricts. His little baby girl, after all the mess he had put her through for three years, he promised to never hurt her again. It was probably a naive promise to make. He’s human, imperfect, bound to make mistakes. Here he was again, making another mistake. 

Plucking out the last few notes of his current sound, Luke stops, pulling Zahra closer into his chest. He kisses her cheek, once, twice, three time and then one more time to even it out. He kisses her other cheek four times too. “I’m sorry, baby girl. All you wanted was my time. I’m so so sorry,” he says softly to her. 

“Zeek and Noor ruined everything,” she replies in a whisper. 

“Babies require a lot of attention. But it’s no excuses for making you feel like you were being left out.”

“I just want things to go back like they were before.”

“They can’t. I’m sorry.”

“Please don’t forget me,” she says with a sniffle. “Don’t forget me.”

Luke stands her up on his thighs. She looks away from his face. Zahra doesn’t want to see her dad sad or angry at her. “Zahra,” he starts, gently guiding her attention to him. “I could never forget you. I’m sorry things are out of hand right now. Let me make this right, okay?”

She pouts. “You’ll forget again.”

Luke shakes his head. “No, no, Mum and I are going to get this straightened out. We’re going to figure out what we can do to include you more, alright? Will you help us fix this?” He knows his daughter, too much like you-- stubborn.

Silence filters in, not even a cry from the twins. Luke could cry from the sound of silence and also because Zahra’s lip quivers again. No, no, please don’t cry, he silently prays. Finally she nods. “Yes.”

Zahra slides down the plastic swirl, chasing behind another little girl. Noor rests in your arms. Zeek’s happy to be bounced in the stroller. Luke stands behind you, returning with ice cream in his hands. “Ra,” he calls out, holding up the cone. 

She rushes over, beaming. You shake your head. “You’re going to spoil her dinner,” you state. 

“She’s got a hearty appetite, don’t worry.”

Zahra bounces up onto the bench. “Thanks, Daddy.” Zahra gets to pick a family date once a week. Sometimes she just wants to watch a movie. Other times she likes the park. But whatever is her fancy for that week, she gets to drag the entire family too. Except when it’s an amusement park in almost boiling weather. Those times she can’t make that call. It always get made up though. She makes sure, writing it down on her small section of the chalkboard in the kitchen. 

This week Zahra wanted to go to the park. Finally on a not rainy day, she’s able to bounce around, swinging, pumping her legs as hard as they can go. She still has her fits, when the twins are particularly needy she’ll buck, cry, say she’s being left out. Those are the moments that you or Luke have to be firm and let her know she can’t cry out every time the attention slides away from her. She doesn’t like it, but what must be done must be done of course. 

Ra licks at her cone, holding her free out to Noor who grasps a finger tightly. “You’re cute, Noor,” she states between licks, “when you’re not crying,” she adds quietly. 

“Alright,” you laugh, shoulders shaking. “While I agree, I don’t think you need to say that.”

Zahra shrugs. You look up to Luke who’s grinning. He laughs, “she gets it from you.”

“Don’t put that on me!” You know it’s true. It’s hard to see otherwise. 

Once all the ice cream is gone, Zahra tugs at Luke’s leather jacket. “Can you push me on the swings?” 

He nods. “Of course, baby girl.” You watch as both of them in matching jackets walk over to the swing set. He helps into the seat before pulling back on the chains and pushing her gently. A smile crosses her lips. She tilts her head back, talking to Luke. They’re too far for you to catch what is said exactly. 

You watch them for a minute, Luke ever so gently pushing on her back. Zahra kicks her legs, “Higher!” she shouts. You catch that. He gives in; he can take her higher. He can be there for her. Luke knows he can do that. 

Zeek fusses from the stroller so you trade out babies. Though it’s not your usual trick, you start humming, rubbing his back. The vibrations always seem to work with him. It’s better if Luke sings the lullabies. The humming as the same effect though. You hum a soft lullaby into Zeek’s ear, listening as Zahra laughs about being too high in the sky. 

[wordynerdygurl]

Body & Soul

Author's Note: Hello everyone! This is my first Halloween on Tumblr and I wanted to try my hand at one of the prompt challenges. This story is centered around the Hatterween quote, "I have no plans to love you. No matter what. You can't make me love you." #hatterweenfics

Also, as of today I have 100 followers, which is so amazingly awesome that I can't really believe it's true!! I feel so grateful that you read my little stories and doubly so that you like 'em!!!

Feel free to reblog the stories, drop comments and ask me anything!! You're my people and I love you!!

Now, the details...

Pairing: Dark, Demonic Loki x Reader

Warnings: SMUT, rough language, Dark themes, D/s... in short, not our sweet boy but sexy just the same.

Summary: The best things happen when you dance, especially if your partner is a dark stranger, hungry for you, body and soul!

Damn, tequila tastes good. It's not the first time you've thought this, biting into a lemon, and sucking the tart citrus chaser down. After a long week at work, the shot tasted like forgetfulness, something you craved.

Normally you were a bar girl. A comfy stool or deep booth where you could nurse a beer and sing along to the jukebox, well, that was about perfect. Now though, you were moving on the dancefloor, colored lights making you throw your hips one way and your arms another. It felt great to get all of your angst and frustration out. Smiling to yourself, you let it all go as the tequila kicked in, just one more person in this sea of souls, escaping into the rhythmic music.

You sense eyes on you, unfamiliar and strange, but can't find who they belong too. That's when you realize that your girls aren't next to you. No, you're on your own in the center of the crowd.

The music shifts then. An unfamiliar song pumps over the crowd, rolling across the room like bruised storm clouds, pushing the club even closer to total darkness. It's disorienting and you turn to find one of your friends before a bubble of panic surfaces.

"May I?" The voice is dark like tinted glass and it's so close you feel the whisper on your cheek. Taking a half step back you size up the man who has invaded your space.

He is smouldering. Tall, taller than you by a foot at least and solid but trim. You look him over slowly, surprised by his interest, questioning his intentions.

A perfectly fitting suit of crimson hugs his broad shoulders, a matching vest showcases his narrow waist. His shirt, jet black. There is no tie. Sweeping your gaze over his face you're caught in the pure fire blue of his eyes. You notice raven hair curling across his collar in long strands and there's an itch in your fingers to pull it.

He's offered you his hand and shyly you accept. It's an old fashioned move but you're flattered by it all the same. There's something very formal, antique even, about the stranger and his pristine manners. He seems otherworldly and totally out of place in the nightclub.

You feel his arm wrap around your waist firmly, heat arcing through you at the contact. The touch of his palm against yours straightens your back as you are lead through the dance. "You move well, little one." His rough praise ruffles your hair. Flushing pink at the compliment you embarrassingly murmur, "Thanks."

He stares at you in a ravenous, coveting way, as if he'd like nothing better than to eat you up. You know from his carnal smirk that he would enjoy devouring you, body and soul. Swallowing thickly under his intense scrutiny you realize that you would allow him to, if he wanted, and somehow he knows that too.

You glide across the floor easily, his steps sure and graceful, making it seem like you are a more capable dancer. Trusting him with control of your body, you follow where he leads, mindlessly acquiescing to his urges. Once you stumble but his form never falters, keeping a sacred space between your bodies, his feet tireless as they move in time to the music.

You find the polite distance from him frustrating. If this were any other club jumper, he'd have his hands on your body, grinding his hips into you, timing it to the bass drop. But your red suited suitor is not like that. He makes the most of what physical contact you do share and you have to admit that it's an intimate experience. His hand on your back, your fingers laced together, that primal look in his eyes as they pierce into yours.

To you, it feels like you are the only two bodies in motion, the crowd falling into shadow around you. Maybe it's a trick of the lights, maybe it's the tequila. Either way, you enjoy the movements and the moments you two share, even if no words are spoken.

Too soon, in your opinion, the song finishes. Your partner, releasing his grip on you, presses a gentle kiss to your cheek before parting. "Until we meet again, little one."

You find voice enough to murmur, "Wait... who are you?"

But it's too late. Your breath catches on a soft sob as you watch his long legs carry him into the throbbing crowd. Willing him to look back at you, your searching eyes follow that blazing suit as long as you can. He never turns his head.

For the rest of the night you keep one eye out for your mysterious man. You can feel residual heat from his hand on your back, the skin there marked by his touch but that's not the only place he's set on fire. It's as if your crimson king has found the half gone flame of your arousal and poured lighter fluid on it.

Suddenly your nipples are painfully hard, straining against the cloth prison of your boosting bra. The panties you picked out special because of the tiny witches on them were flooded with your honey. And you could feel the red heat of your unending blush radiating off of your cheeks.

You slam another tequila shot, barely feeling the burn as it slides down your throat, since every other part of you is on fire. Pushing off of the bar, away from your people without a word, you will yourself to walk straight to the ladies room. There's something you have to do and it has to be done now.

Luckily the bathroom is empty. The stalls here are wide with walls that touch the floor and you are so grateful because you need the privacy. You've never done anything like this before but you're too exhilarated to stop now.

Quickly locking the door, you take a deep breath before lifting your skirt. You don't bother taking off your undies. Instead you shift them to the side and moan when your finger connects with your clustered nerves. Resting your heeled boot against the toilet you gather some of your slick and tease it over your sensitive nub.

When you close your eyes you see your man in red. He's on his knees before you with those long fingers on your milky thighs. Imaging his wicked tongue working on your womanhood, you swear you can almost feel him in there with you.

Tipping your head back, you let out a moan, leaning into the wooden wall of your stall. You're close to release imagining the dashing dancer pressing into you with hard hips and soft lips. Panting now, a name you've never heard before, flashes through your mind. The letters pulse behind your closed eyes, growing in intensity at the same rate as your pleasure. Your alcohol addled brain blinks to an image. The face of your scarlet stranger, his lean look and hungry eyes, the scorching sensation of his touch.

"Loki" you say it once, almost a question, testing how it sounds, breathless, as your body tries to reach its peak. "Loki!" Louder, clearer, stronger as your fingers rub roughly over your sensitive silk. "LOKI!", raggedly you scream as your body comes apart quickly in delicious contractions and warm liquid.

Taking a moment to calm your frayed nerves, you collapse onto the toilet seat. With shaking legs and racing heart you curse, "Holy shit." Even in your bed at night your body has never been so quick to reach its pinnacle.

You stand and straighten yourself up, feeling a bit guilty about your self love session. The mirror hides nothing and reflected in the fluorescent light you see your smudged eyeliner and racooned mascara. Cool water and a paper towel help but anyone can see that you've unravelled.

Your lips are swollen, your hair tangled, your skin alternatively flushed and blushing. Desire coils in your belly, dark and sinful. It's shocking to think that even though you just experienced a spell of sensual relief you can already feel the knot of need tightening in you again.

You had to get out of here. Now. Making a mental checklist you start: get to your friends and then get home. Those are your pressing tasks.

Time was of the essence as your skin was in flames. Each breath you took seemed to burn heat through your body, settling ashen embers in your liquid core. Every touch from an unsuspecting crowd surfer brought you closer to cumming. The brush of the waitress against your side was enough to force your thighs together, clenching your teeth.

Your dress was too clingy. The boots you wore, too heavy. All of your layers chaffed against you. Naked. That's what you needed to be and to ensure that you didn't get arrested, you needed to get someplace private, now.

"Guys!" Trying to sound casual when you clearly weren't, your friends looked you over in a loving if judgemental way. "Listen, I need to split. Anyone else coming?"

Without pausing for an answer, you grab your bag and start walking. "Um... ok. Ok. I'll get a car then. See you later!" You bit your bottom lip as you open your phone's drive share app. Head down in concentration, you make your way through the maze of dancers and drinkers, when you feel it again. Not it, rather, him.

You stop dead in your tracks.

He's just outside the door and you know he's waiting for you. Squaring your shoulders, trying to hide your body's betrayal at seeing him so soon, you planned on ignoring him. But your feet moved on thier own, taking you right up to him, as if they no longer were listening to your directions. At your approach he turned, a smile curled over his full mouth, "Little one, need a lift?"

You nod, yes. Loki offers you his strong hand once more, ushering you into his waiting car. He keeps you close to his side with those long arms of his wrapped around you. Cuddling you towards his heavy heat, you sigh and settle in for the drive.

No words are said. His hand idly strokes over your arm. You rest your cheek to his chest. Anyone could have mistaken you for long time lovers rather than the perfect strangers you were.

When the car stops Loki steps out first, straightening his suit coat, then reaching out, helps you gain the sidewalk. He leads you to his building, tall and dark like the man himself, with wrought iron rails around the windows and aging but beautiful stonework. You're reminded of the Beast's castle, from that fairy tale, a gothic haunted place where love, against the odds, manages to grow.

"Are you coming little one?" Loki's voice is feather light but it commands you just the same. Dim lamps flicker on once you cross the threshold, but you pay no attention to what they illuminate. You're being led onward, on to the place you have agreed to go ever since you took Loki's hand on the dance floor.

Heavy doors open to reveal a large, well made bed in the center of the room, the iron headboard reaching for the ceiling. Blood red comforters and black quilts are piled high, like a nest, for the long man in the crimson suit. A fire, raging orange, is the only light in this place. The shadows it cast leaping around the room like the club goers you left behind.

"Dance with me, little one." A song, the same from earlier, begins to play from somewhere in the house. This time, without the eyes of others on you, Loki's grip on you is tighter, his body closer than before. As you spin in time to the music his hands roam freely over your back, down to your bottom, gripping you hard.

You feel as if your person is no longer yours, but rather an extension of him. How did you ever live without his scalding touch? Were you alive before feeling the heat of Loki's gaze on you? Overwhelmed by the intensity of his attention, you lower your lashes, afraid that he will see your shameless, wanting need.

Nosing against you, Loki turns your head to face him, "Little one, you should know, I have no plans to love you. No matter what. You can't make me love you."

Stuck to the roof of your mouth, your tongue is of no actual help. Your mind is struggling to make sense of his words, the weight of them, the tone. It's important, you think, but his blown pupils and full lips distract your thoughts.

"But I will make you mine." And then Loki's blazing lips are on yours, hungry and unrelenting, as they try to drink in all of you. Fiery fingers tangle in your hair, pulling it back harshly, as his tongue licks over your jugular vein. Nipping your ear painfully, Loki tells you, "Give yourself to me, little one. Do it freely and I will let you howl my name, just as you did when you played with your pretty pussy tonight!"

Snapping your head up at the mention of your bathroom debasement, Loki snickers, "You couldn't keep your hands off of your needy body, that's how desperate you were to be mine. Now you will have to prove it to me."

Your knees buckle against the bed. Loki's steered you right where he wants you, and with no effort on his part, he pushes you back on the blanketed bed. Flames burning behind him, Loki towers over you, half shadowed in the flickering light. You think you see red horns on his head, but no, that's just a trick of the fire light, right?

For a second your mind shifts, I should be afraid, you think. But then Loki begins slipping off your boots and kissing a scalding path over each of your calves. You bow up from the mattress as Loki bites on the tendon inside your knee. It's a sensitive and unexpectedly erotic place on your body so you moan softly at the searing contact.

Reaching for him, you want to pull Loki to you. You want to give him some of the pleasure he's giving to you. Every attempt is swatted away until your man in red scolds, "If you can't control yourself, I will tie you down and finish things my way. Be good, little one. Please."

You decide to lay on your hands, tucking them under you, lest you be tempted to touch Loki again. This earns you a devilish grin before he returns to his work. Reaching under your skirt, Loki locks his eyes on yours and rubs you over your panties.

"Oh, little one. You're body is ready to be claimed. Look at how eager you are to belong to me!" Loki can't hide his own elation at your body's response. He traces over your split lips with one of his stiff fingers, pressing firmly against your straining bud, causing you to groan harshly.

Again he pushes down on your pearl, circling it slowly over the thin cotton of your underwear. The fabric, rough and dragging, scrapes against your bundled nerves sending ripples of electricity shooting through your core. Loki hooks his finger under the soaked scrap tearing it from under you with a growl.

In a rush, the breathe leaves your lungs, cool air coursing over your swollen sex only adding to your arousal. Loki rises up again, crooning, "Look at me, little one. I want you to see."

Your eyes widen in shock as he snaps his fingers and your clothes are just gone. No zippers pulled down, no buttons undone, just disappeared. Instead of crying out, you sigh happily. Your overheated body is finally free of your constraining clothes.

Wriggling into the warmth of the bedclothes, Loki warns, "Lie very still, little one. Don't move." And you couldn't even if you wanted to. His words are steel chains that bind you to his bidding, keeping you soothed and silent, while he slowly sheds his suit.

If you thought Loki was striking in his impeccable clothes, you are gobsmacked by his nude figure. Finely muscled, more than masculine and frightening hard, his body glowed in the radiance of fire light. You sucked in a breath and exhaled with a whimper.

Stroking himself lazily, Loki leans onto the bed, that starving look back on his fine features. "On your knees, little one. It's time to take you." You don't know what he means exactly but your body responds regardless.

Loki massages your skin from the swell of your bottom, over your spine, and across your shoulders. Arching your back into his touch, you mewl, impatient to have more of him. Your hips rock back towards his, straining for the contact that has been promised since you met, when Loki swiftly fists your hair. Pulling your head back sharply he snarls into your ear, "Greedy little slut, aren't you?"

Before you can answer, Loki thrusts into you, fully sheathing himself to the hilt. You scream at the invasion. He's large and forceful, buried cruelly against your cervix, and not withdrawing. No, he pushes in deeper, grinding his pelvis into your buttocks. Loki's hands fan across your hips, sealing you together, preventing you from escaping his punishing thrusts.

"Oh no, little one, you'll take all I have to give and be grateful." Loki barked at you in time with his driving rhythm. His fingers start stroking your clit while Loki continues his assault on your quivering body.

Despite the hard use, your hips begged for more of him. With every forward snap from Loki your internal walls reached out to him. Your core was unwilling to be separated from his cock until ecstasy had been reached. Before long you were riding him, bouncing yourself on his impossibly hard shaft, shouting profanity in fits and starts.

"You think you're going to cum, my little hellion? You believe that this devilish brute will let you take your pleasure so easily?" You whimper pathetically, fearful that you will be denied your elation, worried that Loki has found a fault in you.

"Stop moving." Though it almost kills you, your muscles freeze at Loki's command. Teasing you, "Tell me, little one, who do you serve?"

Willing your whole body to behave, you answer, "You... you, Loki" Loki rewards you by pulling straight down on your overly sensitive nipples. When you cry out he laughs deeply, "That's right. I am your god now, little one, your dark master. And you belong to me. Now do your master's bidding and fuck me like the bitch in heat I know you truly are!"

His words drive your flame of desire into frenzy as you force yourself onto Loki's waiting steel over and over. He doesn't touch you, at least not with his hands, only your carnal flesh connects the pair of you. Mere moments of bucking against Loki have you coming undone. He knows how close you are, ordering you, "Tell everybody who your soul belongs to! Let them hear you in heaven, my wicked woman!"

"LOKI! LOKI! LOKI!" The word loses all meaning as it tumbles, repeatedly, from your blubbering lips like a mantra for your body's rapture. Pleasure courses through you like wild fire, out of control and unpredictable. It bends your back as you howl like an animal unchained.

Your black euphoria is followed by Loki's. He makes sure that your bodies are locked together in a punishing hold. Your forms melt into one as his hot release is spent inside you.

Sagging on sore elbows, no longer able to hold yourself up, you drop down onto the bed. Loki has bottomed out, stuttering after shocks rippling through you both, but he hasn't withdrawn yet. He lies, snuggled in your sinful embrace, enjoying the sight of your corruption splayed in front of him.

"Loki...?" Barely a whisper, it's the most you can manage with your raw throat.

"Yes?" He can't see your face, can't read your expression, but he is curious.

"Why me?"

Pulling out of you with a gush of your shared passion, Loki turns you onto your back, his blue eyes narrow. "Why you? Little one, you called to me. The murky, mucky parts of your soul that never see the light of day... they scream out, Loki! Your deviant, dark spirit, always ignored. Trampled on. No longer. Your savior is here, little one."

Your wet eyes held Loki's gaze, enraptured and enchanted, as he rolled off the bed. Quietly padding around the fire kissed room on his long legs, Loki stopped when he reached a desk hidden in the gloom. Groaning, the drawer he tugged gave way and after a moments rummaging, he strode towards you once more.

"Little one, I told you there was no love here. But there is pleasure... so much pleasure." Opening the black box for you, Loki presents you with choker of black leather, slim and dainty. "There is also pain, little one. Freeing, soaring pain... Now you must choose. Go, take your clothes and return home to your half life of cheap booze and disappointments or... stay and begin life anew at the side of your soul's true master."

Sitting on your hip, nude, lavender bruises painted on your fire kissed skin, Loki saw how beautifully broken you'd become while with him. For a fleeting second he imagined what loving you would be like, giving away his heart and taking yours in return. But the rage inside him would never let that happen. Could never let that happen.

No, to have you as his conquest would be enough. It had to be. But the choice was yours.

Your fingers brushed over the smooth leather of Loki's collar and all that came with its acceptance. The clothes you'd worn all night were in a folded pile, the last connection to your "normal" life. What to do, what to do?

"Loki...?"

"Yes, little one... have you decided already?" Loki tried to hide the expectation in his voice but you hear it. It's enough to make you smile softly.

You nod.

.............

Tagging my first peep! @iamverity, ❤ enjoy!!

[sk8r-girl]

Distraction (Lena Luthor x Reader)

Word Count: 1490

Warnings: pg 13 HAHA making out and a lil bit of grinding 

Summary: You’re horny and Lena’s busy and you really want some love.

You didn’t know what was wrong with you. Maybe it was just the way you woke up this morning, but for some reason, you couldn't seem to get Lena out of your head. You had already been full-on dating Lena for 6 months, and this wasn’t the infatuation period anymore. Of course, you still loved and cherished her and thought about her, but fantasising about her every second of every minute of the day was not normal.

You were at work, and you were fully distracted. The only thing in your mind was Lena--Lena’s green, piercing eyes, Lena’s full, red lips, Lena’s pale, perfect thighs, Lena’s...You could feel your thoughts trails off to something more crude, and you flushed and tried to distract yourself with some paperwork. Needless to say, you could only keep your focus for a few minutes, and then it was Lena again.

Lena had been really busy the past few days, trying to boost L-Corp’s sales, in preparation for the gala tonight, which she would have to meet many “important assholes and convince them to invest in L-Corp”. She was gone by the time you woke, and came home late every night. You knew she was stressed (you were doing everything you could to make sure she ate and slept), so how could you trouble her with your needs? 

Your supervisor, Anne, pursed her lips and glared at you. “What’s going on in your head, Y/N?”

You broke out of your stupor and blushed again, trying to busy yourself with some documents. Needless to say, your brain was somewhere else the entire day.

Lena had invited you as a guest for the gala, saying that she needed “the moral support”, so when you got home, you immediately took a cold shower (and tried to push those damn thoughts out of your mind) and began dressing up.

You were caught off guard when the doorbell rang, and you realised that instead of putting the blusher on your cheeks, you were thinking about kissing Lena’s soft, pale thighs, hearing her moan and feeling her hands curled in your hair. You were clutching the brush so tight that your knuckles were white.

You quickly touched up your makeup and opened the door. And...holy shit. Lena was standing there, looking like a literal goddess. She had to go straight from her office to the gala, and you could tell that she was exhausted. But even with slight eye bags under her eyes (concealed by makeup), she looked gorgeous. She was wearing a simple V-neck black dress that did everything to show off her beautiful curves. For a moment, you imagined yourself pulling her in and ripping that dress off her, and just doing everything you had fantasised about today to her. Pushing her onto the bed and leaving hickeys all over that smooth, pale neck. And...

“Baby, are you okay?” Lena asked, leaning forward to kiss your cheek. That small contact made your entire body heat up and you felt the need to change your underwear. It was as if you were a horny high school teenage boy.

“Hey babe,” you said. Realising that your voice was low and husky, you quickly cleared your throat. “I’m fine.” Now your voice sounded unnaturally squeaky and high. Damn it.

“Okay,” Lena looked a little unconvinced but she led you to the limo with a smile. 

“Thank you so much for coming with me,” Lena said, “I know you’re probably really tired and all...”

“Baby, I’m your girlfriend, it’s my duty to support you,” you replied. You contemplated holding her hand and caressing it, but you weren't sure if that little contact would cause you to lose all self-control and start a full-blown make out session in the car. And you knew Lena couldn’t afford to get messy before this very event that she had been prepping for for the past few days. 

“I know we haven't been spending a lot of time together,” Lena sighed, “But after this nightmare is over, I promise we’ll be spending more time together.”

“In fact,” she continued, “I made a reservation at a restaurant for us tomorrow, and a reservation at a hotel for tomorrow night.”  

Lena smiled at you sweetly and you could feel your heart melting. She had been so busy and she could still plan these things for you. And all you could think of is having sex with her.

Exercising every ounce of self-control in your body, you gave her a small kiss on the lips, ensuring that you did not ruin her lipstick.

“Thank you, baby,” you murmured against her lips.

The gala was, like all other galas Lena attended, filled with the wealthy and arrogant. You could see Lena putting on her classic CEO fake smile, as she approached condescending old men and slimy suck-ups, trying to promote L-Corp. Of course, you stayed right beside her, giving her the support that she needed.

It was in a middle of a conversation with a cocky, young CEO and his haughty wife, that you suddenly felt a rush of arousal and desire for Lena. The CEO had made some stupid, snide comment about you and Lena’s relationship. And Lena was quick to remind him of how big her company was and how well they were doing.

“I don’t see why you should be criticising me and my girlfriend. L-Corp’s stocks have tripled in value since I took over two years back, and if I recall correctly, the second your father handed the company over to you, your shares have fallen by what? 35%?” Lena said with a relaxed smile, but her eyes were hard and piercing.

“My girlfriend has been a constant source of support for me. Perhaps if you spent more time working on your company, instead of obsessing over us, you might actually be able to maintain its value.” You would have laughed at the look of shock and anger on the CEO and his wife’s faces, if you hadn’t been caught by a fresh wave of arousal because of Lena’s confidence. Seeing Lena dress down arrogant men and strip them of their ego always made you swoon and made you want her to just tear your clothes off and...

“Baby, come on.” Lena grabbed your hand and pulled you away from the couple, who was now gaping at Lena like fishes.

You shook your head to clear the thoughts, but the feel of Lena’s soft hand just made you imagine it on other parts of your body...

“Stupid boy,” Lena cursed under her breath, “He thought he could just make that kind of remark and get away with it? I...Baby, are you okay? You look so distracted.”

Lena’s voice pulled you back to reality and you felt your face heat up in embarrassment and arousal.

“Yep, I’m fine,” your voice was squeaky. “I just need to go to the toilet.” 

You ran off to the toilet, before Lena could examine you further.

Upon entering the toilet, you immediately splashed some water on your face, not caring that you were essentially washing off your makeup. Stop thinking about screwing Lena. She’s tired and she needs to make all those business deals and...

“Baby?” You heard Lena’s voice and turned towards her. 

“Lena, I...” You fumbled around for something to explain yourself.

Lena looked at your flushed face, water still trickling down, and your dilated pupils, and something seemed to sink in.

“Babe, are you horny?” Lena asked.

“I...umm...I....” you stammered and averted her eyes, which were especially piercing when she wanted an answer.

Lena came towards you and cupped your face, tilting it to make sure you looked at her.

Her green eyes were dilated so much that it was almost completely black.

She captured your lips with hers and you could almost immediately feel the slickness between your legs. You kissed her back fervently, savouring those plump lips that you had been fantasising about for the past ten hours. She put her thigh in between your legs and you grinded down eagerly and let out a soft gasp against her lips.

You were running out of breath but her lips felt sooo good and then the tip of her tongue darted out and touched your lips and you were gone. Tangling her hair in your hands, you open your mouth to let her tongue enter. You should really stop, who knew who was going to walk in on the two of you frenching in the toilet? But it felt so good...

All of a sudden, she pulled back, and you could feel the disappointment.

She looked so fricking sexy with her swollen lips and her smeared lipstick and her hair in a mess.

“I guess that’s a yes,” she mused, looking at you thoughtfully, before sliding her hand into yours.

“Let’s go back home and make you less frustrated.” She winked and pulled you out of the toilet.

A/N: lena luthor is so damn hot. that’s it. hope you like it! :))

[livelovelaug-h]

Arguments and illnesses part I

Dr. Cox x reader 

Words- idk around 1000

A/n: the bold lines are jds thinking.

~~~~~~

Now -

"You think you have a tumor?" Jd asks.

"I don't know I know something's wrong I need you to run some tests for me but please just keep this between us." 

"...Of course."

96 hours ago -

You never really know what the day will bring for a relationship. something good? Something bad ? What are you going to argue about this time?

The new interns were coming today and you were nervous because you never know how they're going to treat you. 

"Hello gang I'm dr. Y/l/n and we're going to jump right into some of the questions. Can anyone tell me why someone would need there stomach pumped?" Five of them raised their hands not bad. 

"Yes. . Dr. Cory" 

"if you've swallowed a poisonous material, if you've had too much alcohol or swallowed large amounts of medication."

"Right on."  before you got the next question out Dr. Cox came in with his group of interns. He asked a question and some girl was right in his space touching him while answering the question. Why does she need to be that close ? And why does she need to touch him? What a slut. 

He better not enjoy it. 

~~~ later at lunch

Dr. Cox and you sat across from each other. 

"So how are your interns?" You ask. 

"Ah you know, annoying and incredibly needy. Yours?" 

"Pretty hard working. You seemed pretty close-" 

"Hey Dr. Cox I was wondering if you could help me with intubating?" You licked your lips and raised your eyebrows, waiting for him to answer. 

"....  I'm eating lunch. Out. now."

 "Okay see you later." She says half sexy. 

"You two seem pretty chill." 

"Oh my god. Are you jealous?" He asked.

"Of course not!" 

"Well trust me she's got nothing on you." 

"I'm listening." 

"You're hot." 

"Thank you " 

"No problem now why aren't you eating?" 

"I don't know im just not that hungry today. I'm a little nauseous." 

"Oh no you don't think you're-"

"No no no. I mean I shouldn't be. I'll check later but I think it's just from working a lot." right after you said that your pager went off. 

"Got to go, love you." 

~~~~~ 

God your head was starting to hurt real bad. 

~~~

"Hey y/n." Jd says. 

"Hey what's up?" 

"Nothing much I was just wondering if you wanted to go out for some drinks later with Turk, me, and, Carla?" 

"Um I don't think I can tonight I have this really bad headache that's lasted me for hours." 

"Oh okay. Hope you feel better." 

"Thank you." 

~~~~

You got home way before Perry did. You were waiting up for him but you totally failed that. You didn't know why you were so tired and nauseous. It wasn't your period, you weren't getting that for another 19 days. Maybe you were pregnant. 

~

"Good morning sleepy head." Perry said to you. 

"Good morning. I'm sorry I didn't say up last night I was sooo tired." 

"it's all good." He gave you a passionate kiss to assure you it was okay. 

"Wanna go take a take a shower?" He raises his eyebrows up and down. 

You laugh " haha lets go." 

---

"Hey Elliot do you know where they keep the pregnancy test ?" 

"OMG you're pregnant? That's great !! " 

"No no no shh keep it down, I don't think I am I'm just making sure "

"Yay but you still might be. I'll go get you one." 

"Thank you." 

~~

As you stood waiting for the results you couldn't stop thinking of the What ifs. What if dr. Cox didn't want a baby. What if you really were pregnant. How would you have the time for that. What if you didn't want a baby and Dr. Cox did. so many things to think about but you were just going to wait so you didn't drive yourself crazy in only three minutes. 

You are leaning against the wall, across from the pregnancy test that was on a piece of toilet paper by the sink. It was three mins so you started walking towards the test when you felt like you were going to throw up, so you ran to the stall and emptied your stomach. 

"I guess that answers that?" You said flushing and walking over to the test. 

You thought for sure it would say that you were pregnant but you almost missed that it didn't say that. 

"Wait what?... I guess I'm just getting sick then."  

"Hey are you alright? you don't look so good." Jd says when you walk out of the bathroom. 

"Well thank you. And I'm fine." 

Later that same day on top of being nauseous and vomiting, you got your headache back. You got dizzy but you figured it was because you weren't eating. 

~~~ the next day 61 hours

*Okay I need you to run a CT on Mr. Hooks to see if he has a liver Mass."

"Umm we already did that this morning." Jd said. 

"Oh.. yeah. Yeah, I'm sorry I was just super swamped this morning that's all." 

"Yeah, yeah I understand." But he was still worried tho. 

Some people don't like to admit that they're sick even when the signs are jumping out at them….

--

"Hey Turk how are you?" You asked him.

"I've been in surgery all morning so you know how dat be, but what's up?"

"oh nothing I just wanted to ask a question about a patient."

"oh sure what's up?"

"well she's been throwing up but she's not pregnant, she already took a test and she's been dizzy and not hungry also throwing up and forgetting things. I just wanted your second opinion on what it might be?"

"could be a few things but I would say brain tumor."

"oh."

Because they're not ready for the bad news.

"you all right?"

"yeah... great thank you."

They're not ready for the new journey thats awaits them.

Now-

"You think you have a tumor?" Jd asks me.

"I don't know I know something's wrong I need you to run some tests for me but please just keep this between us." 

"okay.. wait really you don't want Dr. Cox to Know?" 

"Oh no, especially not him. Can I trust you?" 

"...Yeah… you can. but don't you think he's going to be mad if he finds out?" 

"No because it could be nothing. But thank you so much. I owe you one." 

"Uh sure, do you want to do it later tonight?"

"sounds great thank you j.d." she says kissing my cheek.

And sometimes people don't tell others about there possible sickness which can end in a big downfall. 

[zecretsanta]

Regarding the Events of the Past

To: @erisofimladris​ From: @akane-crashkey​

I chose this because I really enjoy the Junepei ship and angst, but for the longest time, I genuinely struggled to find an idea that would work. I ended up rewriting my submission several times with different ideas. And then something happened to me that lead to me getting this idea. While this story isn’t the greatest or realistic, it’s true to my emotions.

JunePei angst, tw for alcoholism, emetophobia

Even though he hated the taste, he couldn’t stop himself from downing the entire 550ml bottle of vodka. The memories had been too much for him to bear. He had seen people engage in human organ trafficking like they were kids trading candy at a playground and to make things worse, Akane wasn’t here. She was away on a mission for crash-keys.

Normally, when things got this bad, Akane would be there for him, listening to him as he cried over what he’d seen; the suffering. He would rest his head on her shoulder and she would stroke his hair, all without judging him. Somehow, this always made him feel better.

Now that she was gone, Junpei’s emotions were out of control and the memories kept getting worse and worse until he couldn’t take it. He had told his therapist about these memories (Akane had signed him up for therapy against his wishes about six months ago) and his therapist had told him about focusing on something else to help the thoughts go away.

In Junpei’s case, he would focus on Akane and their shared childhood memories and bonds. With time, the memories would erase themselves from his mind and Junpei wouldn’t have to focus on them anymore.

Without Akane here, that wasn’t the case. The memories kept on getting worse and worse which was why he turned to alcohol. He had driven over to the liquor store to buy a medium-sized bottle of vodka.

After an hour, he had finished the entire bottle and its effects began to take place. The memories became less profound the more time that went on, and by the time he had finished the whole bottle, they were completely gone.

What replaced those memories were slightly less pleasant effects. Instead of the intrusive thoughts in his mind, he kept hearing an annoying buzzing sound that reverberated all the way throughout his skull. That lead to a constant feeling of nausea that hit his stomach. When he stumbled to the toilet to throw up, he kept tripping over his own feet. When that happened, all he could think about was how angry Akane would be if he managed to puke on the ground.

He laid over the toilet bowl for a while, wondering if there would be anything else that his body would force him to vomit up. Thankfully, there wasn’t, and he rested his head on the toilet lid, panting, as he flushed. After that, he washed his hands.

But hey, at least the memories are gone, Junpei thought to himself as the dizziness got too much to bear and he closed his eyes in an attempt to make it all go away. Eventually, unconsciousness overtook him and he passed out, hitting his head on the bathroom counter as he collapsed onto the ground.

====

When Junpei woke up again, he was surrounded by an annoyingly bright light, beeping, and an excruciating pain pounding in his skull. It took two seconds for him to realize that he was in the hospital. What happened to me? Junpei thought to himself, looking around for some semblance of familiarity.

His eyes latched onto Akane’s. Her eyes were red-rimmed and tear-filled, as though she had been crying for a while. This created confusion for Junpei. She was supposed to be on a Crash-Keys mission for the next three days. So why was she here? And why was he in the hospital in the first place.

“Junpei, why?” Akane asked, holding onto Junpei’s right hand. While he hadn’t realized it until now, there was an IV line placed into his left hand. “Why what?” Junpei croaked.

“Why did you do that to yourself?” Akane asked, bursting into more tears. She grabbed a tissue out of her sweater’s pocket and blotted her eyes with it. Suddenly, he remembered that he had drunk an entire bottle of

Vodka but he didn’t remember anything else after that.

Junpei then felt the memories, the ones of human trafficking, the ones where he investigated a child trafficking operation and the pain he had seen in their eyes. He remembered seeing Guy X, and how he had initially thought how disgusting it was as opposed to the fact that it had been an actual human once. He tightly grasps Akane’s hand as tears form. He faces the memories from other timelines, holding Akane as she slowly dies. Watching Snake die in an incinerator. Slowly getting poisoned and watching Akane struggling to breathe because Carlos failed to pick the right locker.

“To make them go away,” Junpei whispers, holding back a sigh. “It was too much to bear.” He ignores the searing pain in his head (which seemed to be getting worse by the minute) and looks at Akane with his tear-filled eyes.

“If it weren’t for our ESPER connection, you would have died, Junpei. You sent out a message through the morphogenetic field that you weren’t feeling well. I tried texting you and contacting you back but there was no response so I called the paramedics and they found you in the bathroom, choking on your vomit as you had a seizure. You could have died Junpei!”

The other shoe fell and Akane began crying, “I was so worried about you! I had to take a plane home and leave the rest of the mission to Aoi and Light, who had to join in at the last moment. You scared me so much and when I found out you were in the hospital, I felt so bad that I wasn’t there for you. Especially because I know you needed me.”

Akane blotted her eyes with the tissue, “You were in a coma for a few days because you hit your head on the counter when you fell and your brain began to swell. They thought you were going to need surgery and you’re so lucky that you didn’t.”

“Kanny, I’m so sorry,” Junpei apologized, trying not to cry because seeing his fiance so upset was making him upset as well. He now understood why his head hurt so much and why he had a line running into his hand. “I really am…” he whispered, tears slowly trickling down his face.

“No, I’m sorry,” Akane apologized, squeezing her fiance’s hand harder. “I should have been there for you. If it weren’t for that mission, you wouldn’t be here right now.”

Junpei looked at Akane with tears in his eyes. He blinked them away and focused on her eyes. He couldn’t let the memories overwhelm him, not now. “So, has anyone else been here to visit?” Junpei asked in an attempt to change the subject.

“Well, this so happens to be the hospital that Diana works at so whenever she has free time, she pops in here. Aoi and Light came back from the mission yesterday, so they stopped by for a bit when they got back, however they left rather early because they were tired. Sigma has been here whenever Diana’s been off work and Phi’s been here frequently as well,” Akane replied, giving Junpei a shaky smile.

“When am I getting out?” Junpei asked.

“Well you were in a coma for three days and they brought you out of it today; that’s why you’re not hooked up to all of the machines that one would expect you to be. Diana said you could probably be released in about a week or so. You did have some awful brain swelling,” Akane said.

Almost as if she heard her name or something, Diana popped into the room, her red hair tied up into a ponytail. She was wearing blue-green scrubs that so happened to have a small picture of a cartoon character on the right side of her chest. “Junpei, you’re awake,” she said.

“I guess,” Junpei said, scratching his head awkwardly.

====

“So, aren’t you glad you get out today?” Akane asked her fiance. In the week that he had been in the hospital, he had been put on a new dosage of antidepressant medication as well as Paxel to help control his Post-traumatic-stress-disorder.

“I guess,” Junpei says. While the time he had spent in the hospital had involved a lot of boredom, he had been under close monitoring due to suffering a brain injury. Thankfully, his condition never worsened and he was free to leave today.

On his bedside table, he had a vase of flowers, along with some cards, and a singular balloon. Aoi had given him a repurposed birthday card that said, “Getting a get well soon card is like a reward for not dying.” While Akane didn’t really like that very much, Junpei found it hilarious and couldn’t stop laughing when he saw it for the first time.

“We’re leaving this card in the trash,” Akane said, gesturing to his card from Aoi. Junpei shot his girlfriend a disappointed look. “I want to keep it,” he said, placing the card in the suitcase that Akane had brought for him.

“Fine, do whatever you want,” Akane said, rolling her eyes at Junpei. “Just so you know, you’re not allowed to put that atrocious card on our bedside table.”

“I wasn’t planning to,” Junpei said with a huge grin on his face. He wasn’t initially planning on doing it but now that Akane mentioned it, he planned on it. She wouldn’t be able to stop it.

“I know what you’re thinking,” Akane giggled, “If I see it out there, it’s either going to be going in the trash or you’re sleeping on the couch for a week,” she joked.

Junpei continued sorting through the things in his hospital room. While he had done most of the packing last night, he had a few things left to sort out. He generally preferred a cleaner environment and his own hospital room was proof of that. Even though Junpei had stayed at the hospital for around a week, the only proof that he had stayed there was the gifts on his bedside table.

Akane’s face twists into a less playful expression and one that meant seriousness. “Junpei, if things ever get that bad again, you need to tell me. I don’t care if I’m not there, I will find someone there for you. But I don’t want to go through this ever again, okay?” Akane says, gripping onto Junpei’s left hand. The IV in it had been removed a few days ago as Junpei was no longer in need of intravenous medications.

“I promise,” Junpei said, kissing Akane on the cheek.

“Now what do you say to getting burgers when we’re out of here?” Akane asks, her face returning to the prior playful expression.

“I’m down for that. I’m sick of this gross hospital food anyways.”

[vminni]

When Fate Comes Knocking

Minho had just finished lugging the last box into his new apartment when a knock came at the door. All he wanted to do was flop down on the floor and not move for the next five years, but another knock came, a little more insistent.

“Coming,” Minho mumbled, pushing a hand through his sweaty hair as he threw open the door.

Nothing could have prepared him for the sight on the other side.

“Hello,” the boy standing there smiled sheepishly at Minho, clutching a bath towel around his waist. He wore nothing else and it took everything Minho had to keep his eyes on the stranger’s face and not on his honey gold abs. “I know this is weird, but could I use your shower?”

The boy gestured towards the room across the hall and his grip on the towel slipped, revealing the sharp dip of his hip bone. Minho’s eyes followed its movement, then snapped back up when he realized what he was doing. He blushed deeply, but the stranger didn’t seem to notice.

“I live right there. I went to take a shower and it didn’t work. I called maintenance but they’re closed and won’t be back until Monday, which is so stupid, because things don’t stop breaking just because it’s the weekend. So I’m screwed until then. I was just going to live in my filth but then I remembered seeing you carrying stuff in earlier and thought, hey, I have a neighbor now, maybe he’ll let me use his shower.”

Minho stepped back from the door and nodded, “Um, yeah, sure. Go ahead.”

“Thanks! I’m Jisung, by the way.”

“Minho.”

Jisung came inside and Minho shut the door, then pushed a few boxes out of the way and gestured towards the bathroom, “Nothing’s unpacked yet, but there’s shampoo and body wash and stuff in the box on the toilet. Feel free to use whatever you want.”

Jisung thanked him once again, then disappeared into the bathroom, leaving Minho alone with a burning face and a fluttering in his stomach. He’d known moving to the city was going to be a big change after the small town he grew up in, and he’d hoped to start dating and messing around, but he wasn’t prepared to have a scantily clad boy in his apartment this soon.

Minho glanced at the bathroom door just as the sound of the shower started up and his blush deepened. He knew it was stupid to be flustered over something so trivial, but there was a very cute, very naked boy currently in his bathroom and Minho wasn’t handling it very well at all.

In an effort to distract himself, he moved to the kitchen and began unpacking some of the boxes he’d stacked there. He didn’t have much, just a few plates, a handful of chopsticks and a couple of old beat up pots and pans that his mom didn’t want anymore. It wasn’t nearly the distraction he was looking for and he returned to the small living room, deciding to move all the boxes out of the middle of the room and push them up against the wall.

He had just finished when the shower went silent and the bathroom door cracked open, revealing a wave of steam and a very damp Jisung.

“Thanks again,” Jisung stepped into the living room, pushing his wet hair off his forehead with one hand and gripping his towel with the other. Minho’s eyes betrayed him, following a water droplet as it made its way slowly down Jisung’s toned stomach. “I know this was a weird start, but I hope we can be friends.”

Minho’s gaze jumped back up to Jisung’s face and he nodded shakily, praying it wasn’t too obvious he’d been checking the other boy out, “Friends, yeah. Great.”

“Your water pressure is awesome, by the way. Way better than at my place. I might have to start showering over here all the time.”

Minho’s face exploded in flames and his breath caught at that statement, but Jisung seemed oblivious of the effect he was having on the other boy.

“Anyway,” Jisung moved towards the door, his steps leaving a trail of wet footprints across the wooden floor, “I probably should go get dressed. If you need help unpacking or anything, you know where I am. Just knock.”

Minho nodded and Jisung gave him a bright smile before he disappeared. As soon as the door closed Minho flopped to the floor, groaning as he stared up at the ceiling. He was screwed. Absolutely screwed.

He’d only been wallowing in his newfound crush for a few seconds when another knock came at the door, “Hey, it’s me again.”

Minho scrambled to his feet, took a deep breath and adjusted his t-shirt before he threw open the door. Jisung looked ever more sheepish this time, still clad in the wet towel and nothing else, “I locked myself out.”

“Oh,” Minho’s eyes jumped from the boy in front of him to the closed door across the hall and then back, “oh.”

Jisung laughed, “Yeah. Oh.”

“Can you get a spare key or something?”

“Only from maintenance, and they’re closed. I have a roommate, but he went to visit some friends and won’t be back until tomorrow.”

“Okay,” Minho stepped aside and Jisung shuffled in again, worrying his bottom lip. “Um, I’ll get you some clothes. You can stay here, I guess. Unless you have somewhere else you can go once you’re dressed.”

Jisung shook his head, “I don’t know anyone else in the building. It’s mostly professionals, not college kids, since it’s pretty far from campus. I tried talking to some of the neighbors when I first moved in and no one wanted anything to do with me. That’s why I was so excited when I noticed you today. I really wanted to be your friend.” Jisung glanced down at his naked torso and let out a humorless laugh, “Then I had to ruin it with an awful first impression.”

“It’s fine,” Minho moved down the hall to the bedroom, Jisung trailing slowly behind him. “You didn’t ruin anything. I’d love to be friends. I don’t know anyone in the city.”

He flicked on the light switch and watched as confusion flirted across Jisung’s face. Minho giggled, then squatted down in front of one of the many bundles that littered the floor.

“This is how I store my clothes,” he pushed a red bundle towards Jisung. “Shirts are in the red ones. Athletic pants are in black and sweatshirts are in gray, if you want one.”

He undid a yellow bundle and pulled out a new pair of boxers, tossing them to Jisung. The other boy caught them and Minho rocked back on his heels, then stood, “I’ll go in the living room so you can change.”

Minho exited, willing his brain not to go into overdrive as he pulled the door shut behind him. Jisung was his neighbor and he was nice and he wanted to be friends. Friends. Minho could do that. Minho could be friends with him. Yes, he was very attracted to Jisung, but he could handle being friends. He could be cool.

Then Minho’s bedroom door opened and Jisung stepped out and Minho was definitely not cool.

How was it possible that Jisung was even more attractive with clothes on?

He’d had settled on Minho’s favorite pair of Adidas track pants, which were tight on his own thighs, but hung loosely on Jisung’s slim legs. He’d paired them with an oversized white tank top and a zip up gray hoodie, which was hanging off one shoulder and revealing Jisung’s leanly muscled arm.

“Thanks again, for everything,” Jisung lifted his towel and ran it over his wet hair a few times, before he slipped into the bathroom and returned without it. He ran a hand through his hair instead, then tugged up the hood of Minho’s sweatshirt. “I’m sorry I’m such a nuisance. My roommate will probably bake you cookies or something once he comes home and finds out how much I terrorized you on your first day here, so at least there’s that to look forward to.”

“I don’t mind helping you.” Minho glanced around his empty apartment, “Sorry I don’t have any furniture yet.”

“It’s okay,” Jisung sat down on the floor, hugging his knees to his chest as he looked up at Minho. “So, why’d you move here?”

Minho sat down across from him and mirrored his position, resting his chin on his knees, “For a job. I’m a dancer.”

Jisung wiggled his eyebrows, “Oh, a sexy dancer?”

“Sexy dancer?”

“Yeah, like at a strip club.”

Minho’s cheeks flamed, “No. I’m going to be working with a choreographer who needs dancers for the videos he makes for clients.”

“Sorry,” now Jisung was blushing. “You’re just really hot, so when you said dancer that’s where my mind went.”

“I’m hot?” Minho blinked, lifting his chin from his knees to properly look at Jisung. “You think so?”

Jisung wouldn’t meet his gaze, but he nodded in affirmation as he picked at the thread on the pants he was wearing. Then, after a few beats of silence, he softly chastised himself, “Way to be even weirder, Jisung.”

“It’s okay,” Minho’s smile must have been obvious on his voice, because Jisung glanced up. Minho smiled even wider, then dropped his gaze to his wiggling toes. “More than okay. I think you’re hot too.”

Jisung gasped and Minho’s eyes shot up, locking on the other boy’s. Jisung was staring at him, looking way too thrilled, “You think I’m hot? You think I’m hot! Oh my god, I knew this day would come. I knew it! And of course no one was here to witness it. They’ll never believe me.”

“What?”

“My friends,” Jisung stretched his legs out in front of him, nuding Minho’s foot with his own. “Whenever I say I’m hot they laugh at me. They think I’m cute and that I’ll never be anything but cute. But I tell them, I tell them everytime, that someone out there has to agree with me. And here you are! They’ll never believe me though. Even if you meet them and tell them you think I’m hot, they’ll probably say I paid you. Especially since you look like that. They’d never believe it.”

“Look like what?” Minho furrowed his brow, glancing down at himself. Did he look like a liar?

“Ridiculously gorgeous and out of my league.”

Minho let out a pleased giggle before he could stop himself, burying flushed face in his knees as he continued to laugh.

Jisung crawled over to him, poking his shoulder a few times, “I’m sorry. Did I break you?”

Minho lifted his face after a few seconds, then hid it again when he saw how close Jisung was, “I’m from a really small town. Super conservative. I’ve never been complimented by a guy before.”

“I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

Minho felt Jisung shift away and he raised his head, quickly shaking it, “That’s not what I meant. I’m not uncomfortable.” Minho took a deep breath, then said what he’d never been able to say out loud before, “I like boys. That’s another big reason why I moved here. I don’t want to hide anymore. I want to fall in love.”

“I know all the best bars and clubs,” Jisung’s voice was eager. “We’ll find you a man, I promise.”

Minho had only known Jisung for twenty minutes and knew it was absolutely ridiculous, but his stupid mouth didn’t listen to his brain, “What about you?”

“Me?” Jisung blinked, clearly confused. “Find me a man too?”

“No,” Minho wanted to die. “I meant what about you. For my man.”

“Oh.”

“Now I’m the one being weird,” Minho scrambled to his feet, ready to disappear into the bedroom and suffocate himself under a pile of bundles. “Please erase the last few minutes from your memory.”

“Wait!” Jisung latched himself onto Minho’s ankle before he could run away. “I don’t know if you’re just projecting on me, since I’m the first guy you’ve ever been open with, or if you genuinely want to be with me, but I’m down to go on a date and figure it out.”

Minho bit down on his bottom lip, hard, willing himself not to smile until he made sure Jisung was really okay with it, “Are you sure? You don’t have to do anything just because I’m pathetic.”

“You aren’t pathetic, and yes, I’m sure.” Jisung tugged on the leg of Minho’s pants, “Come back down here.”

Minho plopped on the ground, legs crossed, and Jisung settled his head in the space they made, directing Minho’s fingers to his damp hair. Minho hesitated and Jisung smiled up at him, soft and fond, “You can touch me. Don’t worry about messing up or doing something wrong. I’m not going to judge your dating skills.”

Minho stayed still for a few more seconds, then very slowly began carding his fingers through Jisung’s hair. The other boy let out a small noise of contentment, his eyes drifting shut. A wave of emotion crashed over Minho, so strong that he had to screw his own eyes shut. This was all he’d ever wanted. All those years he spent at home, hiding his true self, all he ever wanted was someone to touch, someone to cherish.

And maybe he and Jisung would crash and burn after one date. Maybe they’d last a few weeks, a few months, maybe even a few years. Maybe they’d fall in love and live happily ever after.

But for now, it didn’t matter.

Back home, Minho had spent so much time thinking about the future, about a time when he’d be free.

It was here, the future he’d always dreamed about. Here in the present and Minho wasn’t going to waste a second of it thinking about what could be.

He was just going to enjoy the now.

[sleepyverstappens]

My skin hurts without your touch

Title: My skin hurts without your touch

Pairing: Lando Norris/Max Verstappen

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: ~ 5.6k

Tags: Painplay, Anal Sex, Hand Jobs, Barebacking, Coming Untouched

Summary: He knows this feeling, he’s become all to familiar with it during his racing career. It was part of motorsports, but it didn’t make it any less frustrating. Another DNF behind his name, when he’d had a pretty decent weekend so far, qualifying better than he’d expected even. He wants to forget all about today. Wants to feel the remnants of the pain inflicted tonight on his flight home tomorrow, rather than the disappointment of the race.

A/N: So this fic is set right after the Canadian gp (yes it took me nearly 2 months to write this, shush), which is the race where Lando's rear suspension gave out on him. It's mentioned in the fic as well, but that's kinda all the set up you need to know.

This is part of the Sink your teeth right into my bones verse (aka the painplay verse), so beware of the tags. This can be read seperately I guess, but yeah just know they have an established painplay kink in this verse.

Anyways hope you guys enjoy this :D

Read on AO3

They’d been lazily flipping through the channels of the hotel TV, before they had settled on some random comedy act on Comedy Central that they’re watching now, both of them in their comfies. His head is resting on Max’s stomach, jostling about every time Max laughs at the TV. He’s not really been paying attention to it though, his brain pulling up the scene of his abandoned car at the pit exit yet again. He’s been mulling it over ever since he had found himself stranded there, his rear suspension giving out under him out of nowhere. The team still hadn’t been able to give him an explanation of what had happened, all they had said was that it hadn’t been his fault.  

“Gotta piss,” Max says all of a sudden as he untangles Lando’s arms from around his waist and gets up from the bed.

“Great, thanks for letting me know, I was really wondering if you were gonna piss or take a shit,” Lando chuckles as he pulls himself back upright again, arms stretching out over his head as he yawns.  

He’s a little sleepy, the post-race adrenaline seeping from his body slowly even with his race ending so quickly today. He’d been restless though, every time he’d start to give in to the lull of sleep his body would jerk him back awake, making Max chuckle in the process as his limbs flailed about. His brain wouldn’t stop bringing up the sensation of the rear giving out on him, his adrenaline spiking suddenly as he tried his best to nurse his car to a safe spot.

His body has been itching with something else though, the need to ache. His body craving the impact of the crash that hadn’t happened. It’s craving the touch of callused hands pushing and pulling at his limbs until they set his body alight, the sting of teeth digging into his skin, leaving bruises.

He hears the toilet flush and watches as Max shuffles back out of the bathroom, his hand scratching at his stomach showing off the v-line there. He gnaws at his lip, debating whether to bring this up, this urge inside of him. Trying to see if Max could be up for it tonight. He knows this doesn’t just take a lot out of himself, it does for Max as well, managing to keep the right kind of balance between not enough and taking things too far.

He’s taking so long mulling it over that Max has now let himself fall into the armchair next to the TV, his fingers tapping away on his phone screen. There’s sound coming from the device as Max switches to Instagram, swiping through his friends’ stories.

“I want you to hurt me,” he finally speaks up, the sound on Max’s phone still playing as the other man looks up at him with wide eyes.

“What?”

“Please.”

“We agreed never to do this as punishment, as a way to punish yourself Lando.” And of course Max’s first thought is that this is about the race, that he’s blaming himself for it somehow, his mind twisting and turning what had happened until he somehow found himself to be the one to blame.

“I know, but I’m not punishing myself, it wasn’t my fault the car broke down. I just… I just need this right now Max.”

He’s sitting criss cross on the bed now, Max’s bed , tugging at a loose thread on the probably way too expensive bed sheets and he really does just need this right now. He’s not feeling sorry for himself necessarily, more so frustrated with today’s events. He kind of wishes it had been his own mistake that took him out of the race instead, because then at least he’d have someone to blame.

He knows Max had seen his car limping along to the pitlane exit, if not in his mirrors he would’ve seen it on the big TV screens lining the track. He knows his boyfriend somehow finds the time to watch those during the races. They had only just had some fun battles, Max passing him and him managing to overtake Max right back using his DRS and softer tyres. And then all of a sudden he was out, his bright orange car still at the side of the track for many laps afterwards.

He knows this feeling, he’s become all to familiar with it during his racing career. It was part of motorsports, but it didn’t make it any less frustrating. Another DNF behind his name, when he’d had a pretty decent weekend so far, qualifying better than he’d expected even. He wants to forget all about today. Wants to feel the remnants of the pain inflicted tonight on his flight home tomorrow, rather than the disappointment of the race.  

“Okay,” Max says softly, meeting Lando’s eyes as he raises from the chair he’d been sitting in. He trusts Max with this, to know when he really needs this, to not misuse this power he’s been granted. They have clear boundaries, formed unconsciously over the years and more consciously recently. It was difficult at times, to find the right balance, but they’ve made it work and right now he knows that Max will listen to what he needs, will know just how far to go.

Max walks over to the bed confidently, the soft smile starting to quirk up in a playful smirk,  and crawls onto it so he’s sitting on his knees behind Lando. And Lando feels himself lean back into him, Max’s hands heavy on his shoulders as he draws him close.

There’s the press of lips against his neck, dry touches as they work over his skin slowly until they press right behind his ear. He knows what’ll come next, but the bite of teeth against his earlobe still makes him gasp. He sighs out as the pressure disappears, Max’s sucking around his earlobe wetly instead. “Come on,” he groans, getting impatient already.

“Patience babe,” Max says with a chuckle, shifting around a little so he’s sitting up against the headboard, pulling Lando back against him. Lando’s body is pliant under Max’s skilful hands, his legs stretched out in front of him now as Max starts to tug at his t-shirt. He shivers a little at the sudden cold, but Max’s warm arms wrap around his waist quickly. His fingers trace over the scattering of goosebumps covering Lando’s arm, the touch featherlight and only making more goosebumps appear.

And Max is so good at this all, pulling him into a false sense of security, tricking his body, and then all of a sudden his hand grips around his wrist tightly, pulling his arm back roughly and making him scream out in pain. His breathing comes more heavily then, his teeth digging into his bottom lip to fight back against the pain. He can already feel his cock starting to twitch even though they’ve barely even started, the fucked up part of him rearing its ugly head after lying in wait for a while.

It’s not always like this. God it would be pretty fucked up if it were. No most of the time they were pretty fucking vanilla , complete with staring into each other’s eyes and asking if the other one was alright every five minutes. And as much as he loved that part of them, he would never get over the way Max would transform when they were like this. Confidence radiating off of him.  

His arm twists further under Max’s grip, his forearm now twisted up against his back,  straining just a little bit too much. His teeth are digging into his lip as Max keeps his hold firm with one hand and as the other hand starts to creep towards his crotch. He’s just got some joggers on, the shape of his cock clearly visible by now and he can’t help but buck up into the press of Max’s hand. The movement only makes his arm strain more, making him groan out in both pleasure and pain.

“Come on,” he bites out again through gritted teeth, sighing out in relieve, even with the pressure on his arm still there, as Max’s fingers finally dip underneath the waistband of his bottoms. Max’s hand dips further underneath the fabric and his fingers wrap around his cock loosely, the touch just that little bit too light to really relieve the pressure.

He feels Max’s face press into his shoulder again, the light dusting of stubble scratching at the skin as he presses soft open mouthed kisses there. The pressure of his lips is light, but they leave damp patches as they slowly move closer to his neck, his hand moving over his cock just as slowly. He feels his body relaxing underneath Max’s touch, even though his brain tells him to run, to not let himself be tricked once more. Max does this so well though, manages to trick even his clever brain, until his lips reach the skin behind his ear. One last press of those soft lips and then there the sting of Max’s thumb pressing down against the slit of his cock, digging into the sensitive skin.

There’s a ridiculous sound falling from his lips then, his breath choking up mid-hiss. It’s too much, too much after way too little. The juxtaposition is making his body clench up, freezing up instead of fighting or flying. His muscles go tense, the grip of his fingers on Max’s thigh clenching up, nails digging into the flesh and his breath catching. His mind goes blank, a feeling he usually craves, but it’s too much, too quiet. He doesn’t know how long he stays like that, the phantom pain of Max’s thumb pressing against his cock still there even though the other man has long since stopped pressing down.

“Fuck, babe,” Max hisses out when it doesn’t look like he’s releasing his death grip anytime soon. “Hey, come on, it’s okay, relax,” he continues on softly, his hand wrapping around where Lando’s hand is still digging into his skin, and softly coaxing his grip loose.

He closes his eyes, willing his body to relax as he takes in a deep breath and finally he feels his muscles start to loosen up again, his body sagging back into Max’s chest with another deep breath.

“Shit, sorry.”

“Hey no, don’t. You want me to stop? You really scared me there,” Max asks worry clear in his voice

He takes another deep breath and thinks it over, he should probably stop, but there’s still an itch there. An itch he can’t help but have, even after scaring Max and to be honest himself like that, that needs to be scratched.

“No,” he says resolutely, “Just maybe hold back on the surprises for tonight though.”

“Okay, if you’re sure.”

“I’m sure.” He turns his head around far enough so he can look Max in the eyes, to show him he really is sure about this. He nods once and waits for Max to nod back, his gaze never wavering. Max’s eyes flit over his face a few times, seeking out any traces of hesitation on Lando’s face and when he finds none he nods back, slowly.

Max’s hand is firm but soft on his cheek as he closes the gap between them to press a kiss to his lips. It’s slow, mouth dragging open Lando’s own lips as he licks his tongue into his mouth languidly. Max’s tongue licks over his palate, making him moan out and press into the kiss more firmly. He feels Max’s finger tangle into his messy hair then, tugging at it lightly, letting Lando know he’s still up for it as well. It makes a smile tug at his lips, the easy communication between them that’s at the very base of this all, the thing that makes this work so effortlessly.

He licks back into Max’s mouth, their tongues dragging against each other, making saliva cling to his lips. He can’t stop smiling though, all thoughts of the shitty race erased from his mind for the moment and Max is grinning into his mouth right back. Max’s other hand starts to creep back south again slowly, wrapping around his cock firmly. The dry movement makes his body tingle, the feeling just that little bit painful until Max twists his hand over the head and his movement becomes more smooth.      

His mouth falls open into a moan, breaking their kiss. He lets his body sag back into Max’s chest, letting the feeling of Max’s hand moving over him wash over his body. He feels the muscles in Max’s right arm flex with each pull, his other arm wrapped around Lando’s waist, holding him close. Max’s mouth finds his neck again, open mouthed kisses falling to his skin, his tongue lapping up the sweat there.

It’s overwhelming, overwhelming to have someone be so devoted to you, to have his every thought and action be for you and only you. It’s why with just a few of Max’s precise strokes he feels like he’s close to the edge already. Another moan is bubbling up from deep in his stomach, rumbling up his throat and finally falling from his lips. His mouth drops open as he takes in gulps of air, his hips trying to buck up into Max’s hand. Max’s grip around his waist is strong though, keeping him in place.

“Fuck baby, look at you, so desperate already. Does it feel good?” Max’s voice is low and he can feel it rumbling against his back where Max’s chest is pressed against him. He bites at his lip, trying to keep the whimper from falling from his mouth, but it escapes through the cracks anyway. His hands clenching in the sheets as another wave of pleasure washes over him. “Tell me.”

“Fuck, so good,” he says with a whine, his body trying to twist up into the touch again. Max’s movements are slick now, precum making his hand slide easily, the noise of it starting the sound obscene.

“You wanna come? Gonna come for me, baby?      

He’s breathless and so close to coming and his body is begging him not to do this, but he can’t stop his hand when it grips around Max’s wrist and stops its movements. He squeezes his eyes shut tight for a second, trying to stave off the orgasm that was about to rip through him, barely noticing the questioning sound that Max makes behind him.

“No,” he says instead, “Want you to fuck me. Want to feel you on the plane tomorrow.”

“Fuck,” Max breathes out, mouth warm where it presses against his neck. “Let me get my bag.”

He knows what Max means, there’s a fresh bottle of lube sitting there waiting after they finished the other one on Thursday, but it’s not what he wants. He doesn’t want careful fingers pressed into him, stretching him open slowly. That’s not what he meant when he said he wanted to feel Max tomorrow. He wants to really feel him, to be squirming in his plane seat all the way back to England, no matter how plush the first class seats are.

So he holds his grip firm on Max’s wrist, even as the other man tries to move out from behind him. “Stay,” he breathes out.

“Lando.”

“Spit will be fine.”

“It will hurt so fucking much. At least let me make you come first, help you relax?”

What happened earlier was clearly still playing on his mind, a hint of worry staining his words. And God does he loves this man, this beautiful man that cares so much for the people he loves. An aspect of his personality that so few people get to see, something he hides away from the media, the people that try to find cracks in his armour for them to peck at. He keeps it locked away, only opening up that part of him for a select few, and Lando still can’t quite believe he falls into that category.

But he still can’t help but laugh at Max’s words, because of course it will hurt, that’s what he fucking wants. He twists his body around a little so he can look at Max, the grip he had on Max’s wrist slipping free, and he gives him a look that says Really? How long have we been doing this now?

Max rolls his eyes a little. He doesn’t say I just want you to be sure but it’s written all over his face, the way he gnaws at his bottom lip, the slightly worried frown pulling his brows down. He knows Max worries about taking things too far, that he will push Lando too much and break what they have built so carefully, that he doesn’t want to lose this either.

“Milk,” he says without breaking their eye contact, trying to stop the corners of his mouth from pulling up in a teasing grin. It makes Max roll his eyes again, a soft huff of air falling from his lips, still annoyed that they’ve somehow ended up with milk as their safeword.

“I still hate that one!”

“Why?”

“Makes me think bad things everytime you use it on your Instagram posts.”

“Yeah? What kind of bad things?” He says with a teasing smirk, gasping out a burst of air as Max’s finger dig into his hips suddenly. His hands slip further down then, until he’s grabbing a cheek with each hand, his arms straining as he pulls Lando up. He has only just enough time to catch himself as Max pushes him forward until he’s on his hands and knees.

“Like this,” Max says before biting at his arse, his breath hot against his skin as he inches closer to the crack between his cheeks. He can’t help but moan out as Max’s fingers dig into the flesh, pulling the cheeks apart until he feels hot air against his hole.  

He’s expecting the drag of a tongue over his hole next, but instead he’s left aching, his hole clenching tightly as Max’s hands leave his arse and instead fall to the waistband of the joggers that are still clinging onto his thighs. The fabric is finally pulled free from his legs along with Max’s own pants. Max’s hand presses against his lower back to get him on his belly, his hands moving onto his thighs next, pushing and pulling at his legs until he has Lando right how he wants him.

He yelps out as suddenly there’s the sharp sting of Max’s hand on his left arsecheek, his fingers running over the imprint it leaves behind, admiring his handiwork. It’s the furthest he’ll go with this, Lando knows, slaps and hits not usually their thing. And sure enough Max’s hand doesn’t pull back for another smack, instead he clenches the fingers into the flesh of each cheek, pulling them apart once more. His hole flutters against the air, anticipation running through his veins as he waits for Max’s next move.

Lips find his lower back, pressing against the dip there, licking over each mole they come across until they’re finally at his crack. Teeth nip at his cheeks again before finally, finally those plump lips press against his hole, tongue slipping out slowly. The wet pressure of Max’s tongue feels amazing, sending a shiver up his body. He’s good at this to, his mouth warm and wet as it slides over Lando, making him press his body back against the flat of his tongue when it drags over him. Max draws lazy circles with his tongue, making saliva start to drip down his teint and onto his heavy balls, before he points it, making his tongue go as stiff as he can as he pushes it against the ring of muscles. He sighs out at the feeling, his body going rigid for a second before recognising the intrusion for what it is and relaxing against the strong muscle of Max’s tongue.  

There’s a few more drags and pushes of his tongue, the movements slowly making his muscles relax and opening up more and more and then all of a sudden it’s gone, the heat of Max’s mouth leaving him, his hole fluttering against the empty air. And he can’t help but whine, his body wriggling up into where Max’s hands are still holding onto him firmly. He expects a ‘Stay still’ or another ‘Look at you’  to come from Max, but he stays quiet, almost eerily so, the only sound he can hear from him the even breaths he takes in through his nose.

He waits and waits, waits for him to do something until finally he can’t take it anymore and looks back over his shoulder at Max, and fuck he looks like the epitome of a pornstar. There’s a line of spit dangling from his lips, falling down slowly, his eyes focussed on where he’s spreading Lando’s cheeks open, making sure his aim is correct. Lando continues watching him as the spit drops lower and lower until finally the string breaks. His eyes fall shut as he feels it fall onto his skin, his hole clenching against it before Max gathers it up with his thumb and presses it into him slowly.

Max’s thumb slips in with little resistance, his mouth having worked him open enough for it to press passed the ring of muscle easily. Max presses the digit down against the walls inside of him, his teeth nipping at his skin with a bite, before he sits back up again and pulls his thumb away from him. He leans forward, his chest pressing against Lando’s back as he balances himself on one hand and presses the pointer and middle finger of his other hand against Lando’s lips. He lets them fall open easily, his tongue licking over each thick finger and wetting them.

He can feel Max’s arousal press against his arse with how he’s leaning over him now, his mouth working over the skin of Lando’s neck, the sound of a groan vibrating against his skin as Max presses himself against him. He presses back into the other man, urging him on, wanting to feel his cock press into him already but knows he needs to wait for fingers first. And Max doesn’t need any more encouragement, the muscles in his arms bulging up for a moment as he pushes himself away from Lando.

Wet fingers press against him then, his body giving way to the pressure easily. Max’s fingers scissor open inside of him, slowly opening him up more and more as his fingers run dry again. Fingers ease out to just the tip and he hears the wet sound of spit being pushed from Max’s lips, before they press back in again, a third finger joining them. It’s a stinging ache, the wide stretch making him grit his teeth, his body pushing back against the intrusion to ease the slide of fingers. Max stretches him open carefully, trying to ease the tip of a fourth finger in when Lando’s body relaxes into his touch. And he just wants his cock, to feel the wide stretch of it inside of him, that all consuming feeling of being connected like that.

“Come on,” he grits out, pressing back into Max’s touch, urging him on, letting him know he’s ready.    

There’s one more press of fingers into him and then Max slowly eases them out, shushing Lando’s whimpers as he clenches up against the empty feeling. He twists his head back to look up at Max, the other man’s hand raised to his lips, more spit getting pushed onto it with a wet sound before Max twists his hand around his straining cock.

“You ready?” Max asks, eyes focussed on Lando’s as he shuffles forward a little more, a fist around his cock for him to guide it into Lando as soon as he has his confirmation. So he nods slowly, eyes determined as he does so, keeping them on Max as he pushes his hips forward and presses his cock against him. He pushes in slowly, so slow, the pressure against his hole building little by little, and Lando can’t help but let his head fall back down again, hung low between his shoulders as he tries his best to keep himself upright, the sensation overwhelming.  

It hurts, it fucking hurts, even with Max’s fingers having worked him open, but finally the head of Max’s cock squeezes passed the ring of muscles, the widest part of him snug inside now. He feels so much bigger than normal like this, Max’s cock dragging against his insides as he continues to press forward, the spit barely easing the slide. Max inches in deeper slowly, shushing each of his whimpers with soft kisses against his skin and words of encouragement until finally he’s pressed into him right to the hilt. His mouth falls open in a choked up gasp and it’s only then that he realises how hard he’d been biting at his lip, the tang of iron on his taste buds as his tongue connects with his ruined lips.

“Fuck baby, you’re so tight,” Max groans out, his voice a low rumble.

He can’t stop the keen that forms on his lips, the sound bursting out as he takes in the sensation of Max stretching him open. “Fuck Max, fuck it hurts,” he says at the same time he closes his hand over Max’s hip to keep him close, telling Max that he can handle it. Max’s sweaty forehead falls against the back of his neck, a soft hum resonating against his skin as he keeps close and lets Lando get used to the feeling.

He waits for his body to relax a little more, to get used to the feeling of Max stretching him open and then relaxes his grip on Max’s hip, his hand falling back to the bed instead and fingers tangling around Max’s beside him. He squeezes once and feels Max press a kiss against his neck, his hips inching back ever so slightly. It still hurts and the feeling of Max stretching him open with just the tip of his cock, feeling both empty and full, draws a confused little sound from him, his brain not knowing yet whether it likes this or not. But then Max pushes back in, parting his walls once more, and pleasure is starting to seep in along with the pain, the urge to press back into the intrusion rather than pull back starting to win out.

Max’s rhythm stays slow, his mouth pressed below his ear, sucking and biting on the tender skin there in between words of praise.

“You’re doing so well, taking my cock so good baby. Fuck you’re tight, feels like you’ve never been fucked before, like you’re all for me, just me,” Max groans, words more of a ramble now as his hips pick up a little more speed. “Does it feel good, hmm?”

“So. Good,” he chokes out, his head pressing into the pillow beneath him as his arms start to give out, but Max’s arm wrapping around his chest is strong, keeping him from completely falling into the soft sheets. The fabric of the pillow feels foreign against his tongue as he clenches his teeth into it, his whimpers turning into moans as they rumble up his throat.

“Let me hear you baby, lemme know how good I’m making you feel huh.”

He spits the fabric back out of his mouth, his head pressing against the wet spot now as he lets out a loud keen, following Max’s orders. By now the slide of Max inside of him is more pleasure than pain, Max’s precum making the slide a little smoother. He can feel Max trying to find his prostate, the angle of his trust changing ever so slightly, until he lets out a frustrated groan and draws his body away from Lando. With Max’s arm slipping away from his chest his upper body collapses against the bed, his fingers twisting into the sheets as the change in position makes him feel even more. Max’s hands wrap around his hips tightly, the nails of his fingers digging into the skin as he thrusts forward again, trying to find the right angle once more.

It takes just two more thrusts and then finally he pushes in just right, the tip of his head hitting that magical spot inside of him, making him gasp in a breath of air before a loud moan falls from his lips. It feels so good, the last remnants of pain seeping away now as Max keeps pressing in at the right angle. “Yes, just like that Max, just like that. Fuck!”

He twists his head to the side, his cheek connecting with the pillow now instead, breathing in air that isn’t dry and cloyed with the scent of fabric softener. He can see Max from the corner of his eye like this, his head gone red from exertion, mouth hanging open a little. Their eyes meet again, a smile that’s too tender for what they’re doing right now spreading on Max’s face, before something wicked comes over his face instead. With one last squeeze of his fingers around his hips Max shifts his position again, one of his hands leaving his hip to reach for Lando’s face instead. He runs his thumb over Lando’s still tender lip softly, before he brushes away some sweaty hair from his forehead, the touches such a juxtaposition to what he knows is coming. He can already feel Max’s heavy palm resting against his face, the weight of his body pressing him down against the pillow.    

He doesn’t have to wait long, Max’s broad hand spanning the whole side of his face, the tips of his fingers scratching against his hairline as he presses his face down into the pillow roughly. He closes his eyes and really takes in the feeling. Of the soft pillowcase beneath his cheek, the slightly callused tips of Max’s fingers, the way his thumb curls over his jaw, the pressure of it firm as Max continues to fuck him. And fuck he’s already getting so close, his cock bouncing up against his stomach with each of Max’s thrusts, he could probably come untouched, the slap of his cock against his stomach enough to tip him over the edge.

“Close,” he moans, his voice muffled as he struggles to move his jaw underneath the pressure of Max’s hand, his lips brushing against Max’s palm as he speaks. The warning barely tumbles from his lips in time, the rough jerk of Max’s hips at his words tipping him over the edge. His orgasms rips through him almost painfully, like coming untouched always does, cum spurting out over his stomach and dripping down onto the sheets, making his body feel like tiny fires are lit up underneath his skin.

“Fuck, fuck,” he hears Max’s groan filter through the ringing in his ears, the clenching of his body sucking Max into him even tighter. The slide of Max’s cock inside of him is starting to hurt though, his body going over-sensitive quickly, a soft whimper falling from his lips.

Another pained sound from him has Max halt, his hand drawing away from his face and brushing down his back softly as he slips out of him. He knows Max must’ve been so close, but even in the throes of pleasure he knows when to stop, that the pained sound Lando let out wasn’t like the ones in the midst of their plays. And he can’t stop the stinging of tears at the corners of his eyes, the love he feels for this man is overwhelming, the trust between them so effortless.

Max’s hand is a blur as it moves over his cock, pulling him towards his own release, a low grunt the only signal that he’s coming, his hips jerking reflexively before he feels the splash of warm spunk against his arse and across his lower back. Max’s breathing is heavy, his forehead pressing into the back of Lando’s neck for a second, before he whispers stay into his skin, drawing away from him and stumbling off the bed, shushing the needy sound Lando can’t keep in.

He lets his body sag into the bed, still splayed awkwardly with his arse up in the air, but he can’t get himself to move, exhaustion settling in as he lets his eyes fall shut for a moment, letting the quiet wash over him. Max isn’t gone for long, the soft shuffle of his feet making Lando blink his eyes back open. There’s a wet cloth in his hands as he kneels back onto the bed, the brush of the warm fabric soft against his skin as Max wipes away their mess. His hands are so gentle as he slowly pulls his legs down to the bed, before he carefully turns him over onto his back away from the soiled spot of the sheets and wipes away the mess on his stomach. And he can’t stop the tears from falling this time, everything so overwhelming, the gentle caress from Max’s fingers, the absolute exhaustion, the ache in his arse and the quiet in his head.

“Hey, don’t cry. Did I hurt you?” Max asks worriedly.

He quickly shakes his head, chokes out no , and watches the frown between Max’s brows smooth over again. Max lets himself fall down onto the bed next to him, throwing the cloth over his shoulder, before pulling Lando close. He brushes away the tears from his eyes, a soft smile on his face as does so. “You really okay?”

“Yeah, perfect.”

[lady-divine-writes]

Klaine one-shot - “The Dangers of Self-Medicating” (Rated PG13)

Summary: Kurt gets sick on a business trip, and everything he does just to get home makes it worse. (2024 words)

Notes: So, I have been feeling a little blue and entirely unmotivated, so I started editing some old work and came across this one. It's the first thing I've laughed at in a couple of days, so I re-wrote it for Klaine (just in case it looks familiar, now you know).

Read on AO3.

“Sir?”

“Mmmrrr … hmmm?”

“Sir? We’re here.”

“Here?” Kurt’s eyelids flutter slightly, opening a sliver. But when the mid-morning sun hits their dry, red surface, he immediately shuts them again. “Where’s here?”

“15-22 Mulberry Place? It’s the address you gave me.”

“The address I … wha---?” Kurt pries open his eyes. The address sounds familiar, but the voice speaking to him doesn’t. There’s a lot of mud and fog cluttering his brain. The last thing he remembers is being in his hotel room, packing his bag. No, it was losing his breakfast, and lunch and dinner from the day before, in an airport toilet. No, no, it was waiting by the curb, clutching on to the handle of his carry-on for support while he waited for his Uber to arrive.

Uber! He’s in an Uber! Which means he must be …

“Home?” he says in a raw, grumbly voice.

“I guess.” The man puts his car into park. “Do you need any help with your bag?”

“Nah.” Kurt grabs the handle of the bag he’s been cuddling awkwardly since he fell asleep in this poor man’s back seat. At least he didn’t vomit in his car. As far as Kurt can remember, he’s baptized nearly every toilet and trash can from the airport, to Manhattan, to home. “I’ve got it.” I’ll just pour myself onto the pavement and slither up to my front door, he thinks. “Here …” Kurt fumbles a hand into his pocket and pulls out his wallet. Squinting, he fishes out three tens and clumsily hands them to the driver. “Thanks for everything.”

“Good luck,” the driver says, mentally snickering at the intoxicated man doing his best to exit his Prius. Ten sheets to the wind at barely eleven in the morning?

Well, it’s five o’clock somewhere.

Kurt backs out of the car butt-first, searching for the ground with his feet to make absolutely certain that it’s there. Once they make contact, he extricates the rest of his body, his Samsonite bag landing on the curb with a thunk when his arms fail to support its weight. It takes him longer to stand up straight, the compact blue Toyota gone before Kurt gets his head balanced on his shoulders.

He blinks his eyes and looks around, wondering why his husband isn’t there to meet him at the curb. Blaine and Tracy drove him to the airport, but he took an Uber home. And thank God he did. There’s no parking anywhere on the street this morning. Of course, he lives here and, hence, has a driveway to pull in to, but still. Strange, but Kurt doesn’t have the brain capacity to speculate about that just now.

Kurt has been traveling for most of the morning, voluntarily switching flights twice when a technical malfunction bumped travelers off their plane. He went from first class to coach, then back to first class again. He misses his family, but he came out of the deal with two travel vouchers, a slew of frequent flier miles, and a thousand dollar refund back to his credit card.

Not too shabby for a Sunday afternoon.

He’s a stone’s throw from home, but the way he’s feeling, it might take him the rest of the afternoon to get there.

Kurt turns, taking baby steps, one tiny shuffle at a time with breaths in between to keep the sidewalk underneath his feet. He does the same for the journey up his driveway – shuffle-shuffle pause, shuffle-shuffle pause, bending at the knees on occasion to ground himself and keep from collapsing.

The walk up his driveway to his front door on this beautiful Sunday afternoon is the most excruciating thing Kurt has done in ages.

Correction – pulling out his keys, listening to the God awful things jangle loudly, the noise ricocheting like bocce balls inside his skull, is the most excruciating. Walking up the driveway, and then up the front steps, each movement sending a dull ache searing from the soles of his feet to his forehead, was simply a precursor to this pain.

Kurt doesn’t understand how he could have gotten sick. He’d been on top of his Echinacea and his Vitamin C game for a week before he left. He kept his mouth and nose covered with a scarf on the plane, and no one he spent any significant time with looked particularly ill. Then again, he’s learned from having a child that sick people are often contagious way before they show any symptoms.

Plague-ridden bastards and their ninja germs bombarding him with their unseen illnesses! He did everything in his power to keep from catching anything, and now he’s standing at death’s door.

In reality, it’s probably from traveling back and forth between coasts after all these years of calm, suburban living. Living in the boonies, away from the dirt and the grime and the smog of the city has lowered his immune system, made him weak on a microbial level.

Clean air and sunshine – it will do you in every time.

His key ring raised to an inch from his eyes, he isolates his door key and pinches it between his thumb and index finger. He tries to stab it into the lock, but he keeps missing, his triple vision causing the end to veer away from the hole at the last minute and hit the door instead.

“Get … in … there,” Kurt snaps. “Get … in … that … hole … you stupid … little …” Kurt hears the door unlock and lets go of his key, assuming it made its way into the lock somehow. But the ring falls to the ground with a phenomenal bang. “Shoot!” he mutters, realizing he’ll need to bend over to pick it up.

If he does, he may never stand straight again.

The door swings open, the momentum of it almost dragging Kurt forward with it.

“Well, well. Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?” Blaine coos, his body blocking Kurt’s way, saving him from falling on his face.

“He-ey!” Kurt says, bright but slow, sounding as drunk as he looks.

“Hey, honey.” Blaine gives his husband an enthusiastic, lovesick once-over, but raises a brow at his wrinkled clothes, his unbuttoned collar, his flushed face, and his severely disheveled hair. “How was your trip?”

“Regrettable, to be honest. Ooo, I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” Kurt throws a hand over his mouth, diverting Blaine’s kiss from his lips to his cheek. “I think I contracted bird flu somewhere between Broadway and 75th Street. Or maybe syphilis.”

“Is syphilis an airborne disease? Because, if it isn’t, I have some questions.” Blaine opens the door wider. Grabbing Kurt’s bag in one hand and his elbow with the other, he leads him inside.

“Hmm, so do I.”

Blaine walks his husband to the sofa and helps him onto a cushion. “So did you miss your plane and walk home?” he asks, retrieving Kurt’s keys and closing the front door.

“Very funny.”

“I don’t want to say you look awful but …” Blaine takes a few steps back to get a good long look at Kurt sinking into the sofa, his head finding the arm and leaning against it. He doesn’t look like himself at all – from the hair to the clothes, and beyond his flushed cheeks, his skin actually looks green “… you look awful.”

“It’s not my fault. I took an Ambien last night to help me sleep off this …” Kurt waves a hand in front of his nose “… whatever I caught, but it didn’t help. I was coughing and sneezing and tossing all night. By six a.m., I was afraid I’d crash before I made it to the airport, so I took some DayQuil to keep me alert. But I guess DayQuil and Ambien don’t play nice together.”

“I guess not.”

“To top it off, since my plane was delayed, I dropped into what I thought was a Dunkin’ Donuts. I mean, the banner over the door looked the same and everything. Turns out, it was some new boutique place called Drunkin’ Donuts. I ate two blackberry wine donuts before I realized I was feeling tipsy.”

“Uh, but wouldn’t the alcohol in the donuts cook away?” Blaine asks, digging his phone out of his pocket and logging on to WebMD to see how much trouble his husband might be in.

“Yeah, in the donut, but not the jam filling. I’m amazed I made it home. After that, everything was kind of a blur.”

“Like what?”

Kurt swallows. This was the part he was hoping he wouldn’t have to get into until he was better … or sober. “Okay, don’t get mad, but I may have tweeted David Beckham and told him he had, and I quote, a very bite-able bod?” Kurt admits, eyes begging his husband to please tell him that that was just a dream.

And even though Blaine is quietly panicking over the fact that his husband might need his stomach pumped, he can’t help laughing at his man’s expense.

“Alas, you did,” Blaine confirms. “But in case you didn’t see his reply tweet, he claims that you do, too. And his wife concurs, so there’s that. Of course, Isabelle jumped on the whole thread and posted it to every social media account Vogue owns. I think you may have raised your stock value with that snafu.”

“Thank God!” Kurt moans. He knew that tweet wouldn’t cost him his job or anything, and he was only mildly worried about what it might do for his home life. But more than that, he was afraid what might happen next time he and Victoria Beckham crossed paths.

She might be petite, but he’s heard she’s a hair puller.

“What else?” Blaine asks, keeping Kurt awake while he stalls for time.

“I may have ordered everything from pages 23, 24, and 25 of the SkyMall catalogue.”

“You do that even when you’re not under the influence. I mean, so do I, but ...”

“And I …” And this is the one that may have Kurt crawling beneath the sofa out of sheer embarrassment “… I may have emailed all of our friends and family … using your email account … and invited them here today for, and again I quote, a surprise party in honor of the wonder that is me?”

“Right again.” Blaine chuckles, laced with concern. “And by the time I checked my email, they had all RSVP’d. They’re in the kitchen waiting to yell surprise the second I open the door.”

Kurt’s eyes pop, his gaze shifting to the door beside him, terrified by this new knowledge that seventy or more people might be on the other side, ready to scream at him.

That alone makes his stomach flip.

That explains the lack of parking on the street.

“And you couldn’t just cancel?” Kurt groans, putting his hands over his ears in preparation for the cheer that’s about to run him over like a freight train.

“Of course not. I invited them. And I’m nothing if not a considerate host.” But Blaine doesn’t open the door. He hits send on a mass text and shoves his phone back in his pocket. From beyond the white-washed piece of wood, Kurt hears the muffled trickle of text alerts going off, accompanied by a rumble of voices muttering in confusion. Someone who could be Mercedes says, “Hey, Bun-Bun! How would you like to go play mini golf with me and your Uncle Sam?”

“Would I?” Tracy squeals, followed by the patter of her footsteps racing to her bedroom upstairs, presumably to get her coat and shoes.

“Wha---what are we doing?” Kurt mumbles as Blaine helps him off the couch, wondering if they’re going to go play mini golf with their daughter and her mom. He’d love to, but he’s not sure he’d be able to make it farther than the fourth hole. “Where are we going?”

“I thought it might be a good idea if we turned this welcome home celebration into a party of two. And we’re holding it at the emergency room.”