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v1ctor14aaa · 2 years ago

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~ enha maknae line when u ignore them bcz they forgot ur bday ~

MASTERLIST | HYUNG LINE VER.

warning: way too long, cursing, mentions of abuse, mentions of trauma, attempted murder

genre: fluff, slight comedy

pairings: enha x y/n (fem reader)

featuring: chaewon (lesserafim), wonyoung (ive)

a/n: here we go, idk if u were waiting for this but eh🤷🏻‍♀️🤷🏻‍♀️. im sorry if they are too long, lol i was enjoying sm. i recently just opened my asks so if u have reqs or wants to be added to my taglist hmu! english is not my first language so im sorry for the error if therew is one. lmk if i should stop making plots in these kind of posts lol. ALSO IM SO SORRY THIS WAS POSTED LATE, THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO POST A DAY AFTER THE HYUNG LINE BUT THEN I JUST SAW THIS IN MY DRAFTS...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

tomorrow is a special day for you, it's the day you have been anticipating the most. you couldn't sleep the whole night because of the excitement for this day to come, your birthday. you weren't excited because it was your birthday, you were excited of what your boyfriend is planning for your day. however, when a day has passed and it's finally the day, you didn't expect your boyfriend to forget it.

kim sunoo (김선우)

it was night and you were already ready to sleep but when you went in the bedroom, you see your boyfriend smiling ear-to-ear looking at his phone.

"did something good happen??" you tried to peak at his phone but he immediately closed it and hugged you.

"YES but i can't tell you yet baby, it's going to be a surprise!! i will tell it to you tomorrow morning once you wake up."

there we go, what you wanted to hear before your bday starts. you thought that everything seems to be going fine and you were pretty much just glad your boyfriend didn't forget your bday. hearing sunoo, you were unable to sleep due to excitement to what could happen tomorrow in your bday. you've been thinking and wondering what could it be as you change positions on the bed non-stop. sunoo was still smiling and seeing you not being able to sleep he playfully rolled his eyes at you (still smiling), he knew you were excited but if he's going to be that honest he wasn't actually expecting you to be that excited. he saw you excited a lot of times and you weren't really acting the same but he shrugged it off and slept.

----- time skip -----

you woke up at 4am, you thought it was still night time so you checked the clock and saw the time. you couldn't believe you woke up at that time, oh wait let me repeat: you did believe you would wake up at that time because you're so excited and you couldn't wait for sunoo to surprise you. you tried going back to sleep but you just couldn't take your mind off about the "surprise", you were so curious, you were literally moving non-stop in the bed to the point you woke sunoo up.

"y/n, i know you're excited but please let me sleep. it's so early in the morning." he whined.

"can't you just do the surprise right here, i wouldn't be able to go back to sleep." you pouted.

sunoo who is half-asleep still managed to see you pout in the dark, he could never resist it so he sat up and said...

"I GOT TICKETS!"

"TICKETS TO WHAT OR WHERE?"

"ITALY, we're in first class too. oh, our flight is actually in 4 hours."

"WAIT WHAT?!"

hearing those last sentence made you panic, you ran to the cabinets and drawings to get packing. this whole thing wasn't supposed to be a surprise, sunoo just wanted to see how you would be if something like this happen. he likes to tease you every time but when you do it to him, you will regret your whole life.

midway packing, you were thinking how can sunoo possibly afford 2 first class tickets to italy so you decided to ask him.

"love, how did you afford the tickets?"

"it's not mine's but the company's."

"company? why would the company give you money to get tickets for something like this?"

"well obviously it's for work. i will model for milan fashion week this year, and i begged my manager to get you a ticket as well. isn't that great?" he smiled.

"oh." you were in utter shock finding out that it wasn't for your birthday but for his work, you thought it was sweet for him to beg his manager to get you a ticket as well but you were somehow disappointed. as you continued packing, a lot of thoughts are swarming in your mind. and, those thoughts just kept making you feel down. sunoo noticed how your mood suddenly changed, he thought that maybe you weren't happy due to the fact that you both are going to italy. he tried to ask you what was wrong but you were so down that you couldn't bother to reply so you gave him the silent treatment. sunoo doesn't like it when you ignore him. he would usually try to argue about it but seeing you down made him think if he did something wrong or what made you suddenly change your mood.

----- time skip -----

you both arrived in italy, you had to go out in different time because you were still trying to keep the relationship private since you both doesn't want issues to happen with your career. actually, everyone already knows sunoo is dating someone but they don't know that it's you. anyway, you went out of the airplane first without telling sunoo and that made him worried. he was looking you everywhere in the airplane plus he was a bit mad because you ignored him the whole flight. knowing him, he had a lot to share but you just weren't interested. sunoo's manager told him to go and leave now, he asked the flight attendants if there was any passenger left but there was none. the manager insisted to just call you and ask your whereabouts. sunoo gave in, and since he's a popular model a lot of paparazzi and fans that are waiting for him. no matter how many people were there he only focused on looking for you but there was just too many people that they had to leave immediately.

back to you, you are already in the hotel. already lying down the bed, watching the tv seeing sunoo just went out. when you saw sunoo on the tv, you had to turn it off. you were waiting for him to mention your bday the whole time but your expectations just got turned down, i guess. a few minutes later, sunoo arrived in the hotel. he was calling you non-stop and it looked like he was about to die when he couldn't see you anywhere. the manager volunteered himself to carry the luggages to his room so that sunoo can look for you. sunoo actually ran to his room but didn't see you there which made his heart drop, he was about to cry at this point.

he was about to go down using the elevator but then you went out of a room and he sees you, he ran to you and tried hugging you of course, but you immediately shut the door. he actually jumped when you closed the door because it was so loud, now he's just standing in front of the room, confused. he knocked and knocked but no answer. you feel bad for ignoring him but you just can't seem to talk to him at all. he was even shouting out of your room but his manager stopped him.

"sunoo, don't shout. the people might find out you are here."

"i dont care, i want to be with my girlfriend and talk to her."

"you should go to your room, i think shes just tired and went to sleep. you will be modeling tomorrow morning so you need to rest too."

sunoo was still being stubborn and tried to wait for you to come out but his manager managed to get him inside his room already.

----- time skip -----

it's the day for sunoo's modeling! normally, people would get nervous and excited for something like this but for sunoo, he wasn't even feeling anything at all except being worried. he's been thinking about last night. you were also unresponsive in the morning 'till now, hes at the site and getting ready while you went out to explore some shops. you tried to forget the fact sunoo just forgot about your bday which is why you went out to try and celebrate late. to your surprise while you were walking down the street, there was a huge crowd. well, guess who you saw

it was sunoo. for a second there, you forgot that you are supposed to be disappointed and mad at him but you got distracted by his handsomeness. like how can you get mad at this boy but you pulled yourself together and kept walking straight ahead but your dear boyfriend did not fail to notice you and shouted "y/n!". you were extremely terrified at that moment, you knew there were a lot of paparazzi and fans around and he just called you that. you were worried that someone might hurt you and suddenly will follow you around to ask questions about sunoo. thank gosh you were fast enough to think of a solution which is... to ignore him. everyone looked at your way but they didn't notice that it was you that sunoo was calling.

at this point, he got irritated of you. he didn't care about his career, he ran all the way to you and held your hand. you were shocked and before you even say anything, you both were already running. he dragged you to somewhere private.

he looked at you with an angry look and said "love, please talk to me. i miss you so much, it already has been 1 day since you ignored me. i want to know if i did or said something wrong. it hurts me that you don't even want to talk to me, i hate it when you do this."

"i...." you were to stunned to speak, this was the first time sunoo raised his voice to you. the first time you guys weren't in good terms or was it just you being so over dramatic that lead to this. you started crying, your back slowly slid the wall and sat. sunoo's heart dropped, he didn't want to make you cry. he didn't know what to do so he just hugged you "baby, no. im sorry, i didn't want to make you cry." you stopped crying and then you found this situation funny, you started laughing. dude, when i tell you, sunoo was so confused. he literally froze and started asking if this was a prank or some shit because it isn't funny.

"no, honey. i just find myself funny for crying for something like this..."

"you. you finally talked to me." he hugged you again but tightly this time as if you were going to disappear sooner or later. "now, tell me. why have you been acting that way all these time?"

you went silent again so sunoo sat beside you and changed the topic because he didn't want you to keep ignoring him, he already got your attention and he didn't want to risk it. you both had small talks and laughed at each other's jokes then you finally decided to tell him, you hesitated at first because it was embarrassing to say right now.

"sunoo, i..... i'm sorry for what i did yesterday and today. i wanted you to remember what was yesterday's occasion which is my bday but it seems like you forgot about it but still i shouldn't have acted that way and could've just mentioned it sooner. i was being stubborn, aren't?" you laughed and hid you face because you were so embarrassed. your face got red while you were talking. sunoo rolled his eyes and laughed at you "well, i'm sorry too for forgetting your bday which i can't believe that i did. anyway, my manager is probably looking for me now. love, is it alright if we celebrate your bday somewhere romantic later? im sorry that you didn't get to celebrate yesterday."

"yeah, you should probably go now. bye." sunoo stood and gave his hand to you. "answer my question, love. can we celebrate your lovely bday later?"

"ok. yes. yes, love." he felt relieved and smiled, he kissed you goodbye before running back to the site while you sat again and giggled like you just talked to your crush for the first time. you were wondering, however if what could've happened if you ran away from him earlier. i can answer to that, he would've probably argued with you.

yang jungwon (양정원)

you were so excited for tomorrow because it's your bday and especially because it's also your bf's day off. you can have all his attention to yourself for today not until he received a call.

"yoi, i received a call, i have this client who just hired me. heeseung was supposed to take the case alone but there was some problems that it needed about 2 people to take the case. unfortunately, there were no lawyers available for tomorrow so i had to take the job and help him." jungwon looked sad and so were you. you understood the situation immediately though, he's the best at his job.

the next day, you woke up first. you decided to cook breakfast for the both of you and wake up jungwon. "wonieee, wake up! you will be late for your job." you were about to leave the room but then he suddenly held you hand and pulled you onto the bed. he hugged you tightly and said "i don't want to get out of bed and leave you all alone here, i want to be with you for the whole day. wait, what about you? don't you have work as well?"

"oh uh, i took the day off today because i thought you'd also have your day off." he pouted and hugged you tightly.

"baby, please you're suffocating me. now, go and get out of bed. you'll be late."

----- time skip -----

soon, you got bored staying at your house. weirdly, your phone has been silent. it's a monday so everyone is obviously busy but your bday hasn't sent a happy bday message to you. he also didn't mention it earlier in the morning which made you think if he forgot about your bday now. you shook your head and thought it would be nice to visit him at the courtroom where his case would be held. you went in your car and went there.

when you arrived, there were only a few people there. you thought you arrived late but you asked and said that it'll start in a few minutes. shortly after, people have been entering the court room one-by-one and the judges also sat on their seats. you were looking for your boyfriend everywhere but looks like he still haven't arrived, you were about to sit but you bumped with someone.

"oh, sorry."

"wait, y/n??? baby, what are you doing here?"

"oh, hi! i was just bored at home so i decided to visit you here." you kissed him. he was about to talk but then his co-worker (atty. heeseung) said that they should go at their place now.

minutes later, the discussion started. you were sitting there not listening to what everyone's saying and you were just looking at him, adoring him. you forgot how handsome your boyfriend is. anyway, you realized that you completely forgot that it was your bday and you didn't want to celebrate it by sitting and listening to someone's case. you went to the mall to go buy some clothes and you were still hoping when will jungwon greet you a happy bday. you were already getting tired so you went straight home, you didn't even care id your bday remembers or not. you were simply tired already and wanted to sleep, and so you did.

----- time skip -----

as you were sleeping soundly, you felt a light tap on your shoulder. you opened your eyes slowly and saw your sister.

"oh gosh, you scared me. how did you get inside?"

"i have a spare key, remember?"

"oh, then what are you doing here? did something bad happened to you?"

"well...." she was looking down and she suddenly hugged you. "i'm sorry for busting out here, late at night but i really need your help." she looked at you, looking like she wanted to cry. you were alarmed at what she said so you asked "what kind of help?".

"m-my boyfriend has been abusing me and i escaped from him today. i can't do this anymore, i'm scared." hearing this made you so angry and just wanted to beat him up right there and then.

"chaewon, you should've told me sooner, i didn't even know you had a boyfriend but by any chance, did he follow you here?".

"no, he did text me though."

"i made his name in my contacts that in purpose because i was keeping our relationship a secret. i'm sorry, i should've told sooner." reading the texts made you scared as well but you were mad at him for beating your sister.

"chae, go stay here and lock the door, ill try and talk to your fucking boyfriend and beat him up if things go south, if ever that happens ill ask jungwon to be your lawyer and sue him."

"sis, wait, no. h-he doesn't know what you look like and you also don't know what he looks like either. i should come but ill just hide and call the police if something happens. i-ill text him so that he'll just come to us."

----- time skip -----

you arrived at the place. you didn't expect that the place would be a fancy restaurant, you thought that he must be rich. anyway, you found it weird that at a situation like this he would invite your sister to something this fancy. wouldn't people see if he beats up your sister or he's just that dumb, you thought.

"stay there at the bush and tell him you're here and make him go outside. i'll wait for him here"

you sat at a bench while waiting for him, there was not much people outside so it's easier to know if the person is your sister's boyfriend. you saw someone coming from the main door standing st the front, looks like he is looking for someone.

"SIS! THAT'S HIM!" your sister whispered.

if i'm going to be honest, you were actually scared for your dear life and you were unsure of what to do but as her sister you'll need to defend her and talk to her bf. you walked closer at him and said "are you my sister's boyfriend?" he looked at you with a confused look but soon realized that you came instead of your sister.

"follow me inside." and you did while your sister was still at the bush hiding.

your heartbeat went faster and you were somehow shaking. you kept holding back from punching him and stayed calm. as you walked further, the light went off. oh dear, that's when you lost it. you were so scared of what might happen to you there and scared that this might be your last day. then the lights opened again.

"HAPPY BDAY!!" you were so shocked that you fainted.

hours later, you finally woke up and you were already home. you actually thought it was just a dream but then a door opened, it was jungwon. he was so relieved seeing you finally awake.

"love, don't scare me like that. i thought we went far. i'm so sorry, i should've surprised you in a different way."

"no, don't scare me like that. i fucking thought i would die there, i can't believe these was all your plan." you put your hand to your chest and tried feeling your heartbeat. "my heart is still beating fast right now, i feel like i might've got a heart attack at that point."

jungwon suddenly ran out of the room and went back holding a cake. "you didn't get to blow the candles earlier, happy bday my love!"

"i actually thought you already forgot about my bday, thank you for remembering BUT please no more surprises like this. if you do this again next time, i think i might actually die already."

"don't say that but yes, i won't surprise you like that anymore." he laughed then suddenly stopped, as you both talked he remembers how you acted in the certain situation which made him worry and get concerned for you.

"y/n... if something like this ever happens, don't act rashly and call me immediately. love, i don't want you to get hurt..."

"okay okay, i know love. i still can't believe you asked chaewon for this evil plans of yours."

"yoi wait, did you really think i forgot your bday? were you waiting for me to greet you?" he smirked.

you looked at him shyly and guilty. "uh, noO."

"you know what? ill take my day off tomorrow and let's celebrate your day properly but first let's eat the cake!!"

so you may be confused but.....

jungwon is really not the type to forget your bday, he could never

which is why the storyline here is different

even if he did forget, he would've still remembered hours later because he always think of you<33333

welp, jungwon's might be the only one who has the shortest..... he remembered your bday so...q

if you guys want more with lawyer jungwon just hmu !!

nishimura riki, ni-ki (니키)

you were talking to your boyfriend over the phone and you were reminded that it's your bday tomorrow so you somehow waited for him to mention about it over the phone but to your surprise he didn't. ni-ki is someone who gets more excited in an event than the person who is hosting it or the person who's the event made for so it was really odd of him to not say anything about it.

the next day, you woke up with a messy hair and a drool on your mouth. you checked your clock and saw that you're about to be late for school so you hurriedly went to the bathroom and went downstairs to get your shoes.

"sweetie, you made him wait for an hour now. ALSO GO EAT."

you ran to the door and said "nah, i'm good mom. i think ni-ki's going to get me something later."

you thought that ni-ki is sitting on the bench but when you opened the door running, you accidentally bumped onto him.

"oops, sorry."

"and you're the one telling me to sleep early."

actually, your school is just near your home so everyday you and your boyfriend just go on foot. you guys were having a small talk then you realized that he hasn't greeted you a 'happy birthday' at all.

"so....."

"so...?" he raised his eyebrow at you. "so what?"

"oh, nothing. so um, have you finished your assignment?"

"since when do i even do that?" you laughed at him, knowing that he'll probably fail in your exam day which is next week.

----- time skip -----

you both arrived at the gate of your school and as you went in, you both parted ways. you two have a lot of similarities but when it comes to education, you both can't even be compared. however, you and your boyfriend are pretty popular. you're the valedictorian and he's just the hot guy everyone knew about.

as you went in your classroom, you sat and wondered what surprise is ni-ki's hiding. usually, ni-ki is bad at surprising because his acting is just terrible that it immediately gives it out but seeing him today made you think that he's finally good at this. you were thinking of him so much while looking outside the window that you didn't notice your teacher already standing behind you.

"ehem, miss y/n. is there something would you like to share with the class? i suppose not."

your seatmate, also your best friend giggled at you. "y/n, i know it's your bday but what made you think it would be a good idea to zone out when the teacher's here or.... you're thinking of that gigantic emo man again? i told you we should've became together instead lol."

"normally, i would've bickered with you for saying that but since you're the first to greet me then-" wonyoung gasped loudly while the teacher looks at the both of you but the teacher let you both go for now since you are the top of the class.

"don't tell me you both literally came here in school at the same time without him greeting you?! i knew you shouldn't have dated that man. it should've been me instead, like im even taller than him." she whispered, actually nevermind the whispered part because literally everyone heard wonyoung that time.

"wish i could say the same but anyway, im pretty sure he's going to surprise me sooner or later. you know him, he can't handle surprises and he's probably so excited right now telling his friends about it."

meanwhile ni-ki......

"hey bro, a dumbass in another class just told me i suit pink. i would literally look like shit if i do anything with pink, i just hate it."

"i think it would suit you fine, don't know." heeseung chuckled.

"shall we fight and see?"

yeah they started play fighting inside the classroom, just imagine that one time where ni-ki and heeseung was play punching each other while hee was holding a dumbbell.

back to you, you decided to visit ni-ki's classroom and maybe sneak up on him to see what is he up to. you looked through the classroom's windows and you saw that ni-ki was just playing and doing some random stuff in the classroom. finally, you thought that ni-ki forgot about your bday. it all makes sense, from him not mentioning about it and he looked like his usual self (like not being excited, etc.) to him just being normal in the classroom. you went back to your classroom and didn't pay attention much to that, hate to admit this but you were upset that your own boyfriend forgot about your bday.

----- time skip -----

the school bell finally rang for break time, everyone started to go to the cafeteria and eat. you also went with wonyoung while you guys were walking in the hallway, wony noticed that you seemed a bit down.

"hey, are you okay? you look like someone just threw up on you. okay kidding aside, are you okay?"

"yeah, i just feel tired right now thinking about studying advance for the exam next week."

"it's break time now so let's eat and stop thinking about your grades for now."

you guys were already in the line to get food and you sat down. ni-ki was waiting for you since forever and when he found you, he sat beside you in the cafeteria. wonyoung was also sitting beside you, at the left side.

"baby, i missed you." he was about to kiss you but you immediately put the spoon in your mouth since you aren't really in the mood for his lovey dovey. wonyoung side eyed you because what and ni-ki on the other side was shook.

"should i go to another table? it looks like there's something the both of you need to talk about." then she whispered to you saying "oh, i can tell he still didn't greet you huh?.." she elbowed you about two times and headed to the other tables with your classmates.

"so... jake and the others plan to go to the haunted house after school. wanna come?" you didn't respond, you were still thinking hard whether if he actually forgot about it or what. it wasn't a really big deal to you so you still somehow replied to him with a low tone "sure." ni-ki thought it was weird that you talked like that, he never even heard you that way. you both are always loud, to be honest.

----- time skip -----

classes ended and it is finally time to go home but you remembered you had plans to go to the haunted house so you looked for ni-ki, you were walking down the hallway where your boyfriend and the others at. there was a crowd, there was a lot of people but not that much. you also noticed your best friend there, you were about to call her but ni-ki noticed you walking in the hallway so he ran to you.

"hey, angel. are you ready to go to the haunted house??? don't worry i won't scare you like last time hehehehe" he laughed.

you didn't really want to ignore him but you were busy thinking if he did forgot about it or no, you were to busy thinking that you didn't hear your boyfriend that started talking to you.

"hello? babe? my girl to earth! hello! huh?" he waved his hands up and down in front of you thinking you were zoning out but no, you were still busy thinking. although, you did notice him waving had hands in front of you but you didn't care.

as you reached the crowd, they were talking about going to some restaurant after the haunted house and also heeseung will be the one to drive. wonyoung saw you and she just had to say something about "it".

"y/n, are you really sure of going to the haunted house? i don't want to see you suffer there."

"i'm fine. i forgot about what happened years ago, i mean i still remember but i don't care about it anymore."

"did you tell ni-ki about it? oh, definitely not because if you did i'm sure he wouldn't invite you to go to a haunted house."

"yeah, i think i'll just make him worry but he probably doesn't care as well. look wony, i can manage myself." you knew that was a lie, going back to the haunted house is a bad idea. a lot of tragic events has happened you in there which means if you go back it will probably trigger you trauma again. as ni-ki mentioned, you guys actually went to the haunted house one time. you didn't want to go but your boyfriend was with you so you thought your trauma won't get triggered. as you went in the haunted house, memories has been flashing in your mind. you couldn't breathe properly, ni-ki knew something was off but your acting with him was just so good even though you were shaking a bit. the memories of you getting almost killed by your aunt and uncle inside the haunted house, make you think that they're still there, in every haunted house ready to try and kill you again.

----- time skip -----

all of you finally arrived at the haunted house, everyone was getting ready to go in except you. wonyoung was looking at you the whole time, worried. while ni-ki tried to make a conversation with you in the car but you were busy thinking, not because if he forgot about your bday or not but because of the haunted house. you don't know what might happen to you this time, back then, you managed to act naturally with ni-ki but this time there's a lot of people.

"y/n, okay i'll be serious. why have you been ignoring me? did i-" before he could finish talking jake and the others were calling everyone in the car to go in the haunted house now. you just saw the building but all the memories are already flashing in to your mind. you don't even know if you can go inside because you felt dizzy and scared. you still tried to act natural because you didn't want anyone to think you're crazy at that moment. as you went in, you got dizzier and images of your past is all you can see. you were scared to death and hoping someone can just save you and go somewhere else. wonyoung looked at you with a worried look and held your hand in. "y/n, are you sure you're okay? i don't want to see you get hurt..." your boyfriend heard what she said and approached the two of you.

"why? did something bad happened?? don't ignore me, y/n, please.."

you whispered to wony "yes, i'm fine." you let go of her hand and turned your back. you were not fine. you were shaking terribly and wanted to cry at that point. everyone proceeded to explore and of course, your boyfriend went with you instead of the others, it was just the two of you. you were still shaking and you couldn't handle it anymore, so when ni-ki was busy picking up something, you decided to walk away from him and went in the nearest room. when you went in, that's when it got worsen. the room looked exactly like where you were when your uncle were hurting you. you went to one of the corners and sat, breathing rapidly and covering your ears because you were somehow hearing your aunt's voice whispering to you words. you cried and cried and couldn't handle it anymore, you didn't know what to do but luckily you went to the nearest room and ni-ki just found you in time. he didn't know what to do but he just ran over to you and tried to see what was happening. he was talking to you but you didn't answer. he was panicking so hard that he just hugged you that time, you needed it. for a few minutes, you calmed down while closing your eyes. still hugging him. ni-ki is still worried as fuck and you weren't responding to him. he held your hand and said that you both should go outside now, he didn't care if he's going to leave the others behind.

----- time skip -----

you still didn't talk but ni-ki took you at his home because you begged that you didn't want to go home and there wasn't any safer places for you to be comfortable so he took you to his home. he gave you a glass of water and hugged you again.

"i don't know why that happened but you can tell me whenever you're ready. im sorry i didn't know you were going through something but please i want to talk to you at least."

your mother called, you were supposed to not pick it up because you weren't really in the mood to talk but you still did and you put her on speaker.

"sweetie, do you ever plan to go home to celebrate your bday or are you going to celebrate it with ni-ki." and when your boyfriend heard that he stood up and was like HUH. while you were talking with your mother, he was walking back-and-forth not being able to believe himself for forgetting your bday and you were also going through something that he didn't know. you hang up on you mother and he was asking questions on where do you wanna go, you told him to the movies or in a restaurant. he literally brought a bag like he was taking care of a baby but yes it was full of things that you might need in case you went crying again.

----- time skip -----

you finally told him on what happened earlier, he was feeling sorry for you and was mad at your aunt and uncle.

"i can't believe i didn't notice that that was happening to you and i even forgot about your bday. im really the worst boyfriend ever.." he pouted and hugged you again.

"maybe but you aren't really the worst, if you were you wouldn't care about me at all." he hugged you tightly and you just found comfortable and safe around him, in fact you were luck that he was there earlier of he weren't you don't know what might've happened to you in there.

oh yeah, lol you both technically forgot about everyone. they were calling the both of you but didn't answer but seeing the car disappeared, they were pretty sure you went somewhere.

MASTERLIST | HYUNG LINE VER.

please do not copy/translate this and post as your own.

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aleeyenn · 1 year ago

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hi aleeyenn. hi joy! i just wannted to say..how much your art means to me how important YOU are to me. you are just so spectacular and creative. i know u probably get that a lot but its so true! your shipart and comics are so on point. i always read them in the character's voices. theyre so accurate and you can tell you really care a lot about the characters and pay attention to their personalities. theyre just so personal. aa!!! your art seriously gives me so much serotonin. ive been feeling so down lately and today i looked at some of your art and it made me rlly giddy! so happy... you are so important to the osc and it wouldnt be the same without you. your content is so heart warmimg. ur a huge comfort artist to me...infact! my favorite bfdi artist eva! also your shipart has made me like the ship a lot! if that makes sense? i dont know how to word it. but for example: tacopop, liymote, NEEDLEDROP. ermmm ya, i wouldnt ship those if it werent for you. ur art makes me stim!!! hand flap!! i have screamed a few times in calls while looking at ur fireafy stuff. this part is probably gonna sound so CHEESY but..you made me proud to be a fireafy shipper? idk if proud is the right word but just enjoy that ship freely a lot more? i think last year is when i felt insecure about liking fireafy because there were (still are) so many fireafy haters and antis and were just completely WRONG about fireafy. same with coinpin. ohhh well i probably repeated a lot of stuff and no im out of words but thanks for being you! :) hope this reaches you and you're having a gr8! day or night

AAHHHHHH OH MY GOD THANK YOU😭😭😭💧💧💧 if i’m being completely honest i saw and read this lastnigjt and i had to wait a good ljke ???18 hours to process it all because oh my god… thinking that i can make that impact on a person is so crazy to me… making a positive impact with my stuff is my overall main goal with my creations and stuff and AAAAHHH i’m so happy😭💗 i get super giddy and scream over peoples art all the time and i never really thought of people Especiallt people i don’t know/aren’t too familiar with enjoying MY stuff to that extent… it’s one of the best things to hear for sure!!! i’m so happy that i can bring that much happiness to you EVEN WHEN YOURE SAD AAGH THATS LITERALLY SO COOL i cant express how happy i am… and YAAAYYY THE SHIPS YOU LISTED ARE SOME OF MY NON-POPULAR(ish) FAVORITE SHIPS IM GLAD I CAN OPEN YOUR EYES TO THEM thehre literally so good … j have to draw them again some time i miss drawing them so much… AND OH MYGODDDD YASSSZZZZ FIREAFY LOVE! i have always been a proud fireafy shipper because there is Nothing wrong with it at all… i mean it!!! they are the happiest couple of all! i will love them literally foreverrrrr no matter what anyone says about them because they’re all WRONG. i have literally seen the worst takes on them ever and i have to put my phone down and take a deep breath after seeing some of them… i do not correct them publicly but i literally turn into ☝️🤓 when someone is incorrect about them because Omfg people are so wrong and mean about them… BUT WHATEVER! I LOVE FIREAFY SO MUCH! AND IM HAPPY THAT I WAS ABLE TO HELP YOU BE MORE COMFORTABLR WITH LIKING IT TOO!!! YAAAAAAYYAYYYY omg SORRY THIS IS SO LONG I ALWAYS GO ON RAMBLES WITHOUT KNOWING IMMSORRU BUT THANK YOU FOR YOUR KINDEST WORDS AND REACHING OUT TO ME!!! it’s always nice to hear what you have done for someone and how much you are cared for… i really really needed to hear it today🌷💗💓 THANK YOU AGAIN FOR REACHING OUT!!!

#joyjibberjabber

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puddlejumpingwriter · 7 months ago

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"The Nine Lives of Kylo"

~ A Reylo Holiday Textfic ~

Author's Note: I'm posting these chapters in time for Christmas in July (with my cat supervising from his perch on top of my arm). Chapters 1-5 are also available on AO3. New chapters will post to both Tumblr and AO3 starting this week and wrapping up before the holidays.

Please note--the characters face a few hardships, but this story will have an HEA.

I hope you enjoy!

~~~

PART IV

~~~

The dinner is…tolerable, but the minute he feels his phone vibrate, Ben turns his attention away from the table.

~~~

Ben laughs and receives a stare from his mother, a smile from his nonna, and an eye roll from his father. His granddad starts talking again, and Ben returns to his phone.

~~~

Suddenly Ben’s tie feels too tight. He swore to his family he would never be the type to settle down, and any mention of a lifelong commitment should make him want to run.

But that subject coming from Rey’s fingertips is more interesting to him than it should be.

~~~

Worry hits Ben—as much for Rey as it is for Kylo.

~~~

Dots appear and then disappear, and Ben wonders what message Rey is typing.

~~~

Rey can joke, but Ben’s worry is back. She’s on her own at the house, and porch robbers are prevalent this time of year.

~~~

His phone vibrates just when he’s ready to bolt from the table, but the message isn't from the person he expected.

~~~

Another buzz draws Ben back to Rey.

~~~

Before he can agree to Rey’s suggestion, Ben hears from Baz again. And thinking about it, he’s more willing to believe Rey’s account of events than Baz’s.

~~~

Ben knows he’s already thinking clearly.

He tucks his phone away because more than one family member is giving him mean looks after his minutes of texting. But he doesn’t stop thinking about the changes he needs to make.

On Monday night, he’s going to end things with Baz. Breaking up isn’t something he wants to do over text, so he’ll tell her at dinner that night.

Baz has been saying lately it’s either her or the cat, and it’s painfully obvious to Ben his best choice is the cat.

Then Ben’s going to meet with Rey after that. It wouldn’t be right to talk to her before he breaks up with Baz.

Not when he wants to ask Rey out.

Ben knows Rey may not say yes. She may be done with winter exams on Monday, but she still has the spring semester ahead of her.

But Ben still has to try.

“So Benjamin,” his grandfather says, drawing him out of his thoughts and back to the dinner. “Tell us how you’re doing.”

“Great, actually,” Ben replies, feeling a smile spread on his face. Several people at the table turn to look at him, making him wonder if he’s ever said something positive during one of these dinners.

His nonna smiles back at him. “Tell us more,” she requests.

“Well, I’ve decided to keep the cat I found.”

“Really?” his father questions.

Chewie clears his throat. “I thought your girlfriend hates cats.”

“I’m thinking about making a change there too.”

“Finally,” his mother mutters, still loud enough for everyone to hear her.

Padme’s smile remains bright. “I think it’s wonderful you’ve already found a vet to help you with Kylo,” she says.

“You must’ve gone to Amilyn,” Leia says. “She didn’t tell me you stopped by her clinic. You know she’s retiring next year. We’ll need a new vet for the dogs—and your cat now too, Ben.”

“Dr. Holdo hasn’t been helping me with Kylo.”

“Really?” Leia asks. “So who is this vet you’ve found?”

“I’ve met her,” Padme replies. “Delightful young woman. We’ll probably take Vader to her after Amilyn retires.”

“That’s assuming she stays in the area,” Ben comments, not knowing where Rey wants to go when she graduates.

“Well, hopefully,” Padme begins, “someone will give her a reason to stay.”

There’s a knowing look in his grandmother’s eyes. Ben tries to ignore her gaze and focus on a conversation between Lando and his father, but Ben still feels the stare on him.

~~~

Ben arrives back at home a few hours later with a large bag of leftovers. His mother insisted on giving him a sample of everything, and his nonna wrapped up a full plate for Rey.

He didn’t watch the women while they packed up the food, but Ben can tell from the weight of the bag there has to be a few pounds inside.

Ben debates knocking, but he doesn’t want Rey to think Baz has returned. He balances the bag in one hand and unlocks the door with the other. There’s no Rey bustling down the hallway to ask about the dinner, so Ben turns to the room where he can see a light on.

Asleep on his couch is Rey, with an open textbook and a napping orange cat sprawled out on top of her.

The sight is everything he never knew he wanted.

Ben considers letting her sleep, but Kylo wakes up and walks across her. A moment later, Rey’s eyes are blinking awake.

“Ben, you’re home,” she says, fighting to hold back a yawn.

“Yeah,” he replies. “Sorry to wake you. I know it’s late. Would you like to stay here tonight—either on the couch or in the guest bedroom?”

“I should get going. I need to start early if I’m going to be ready for this test.”

“Of course. Well Nonna Padme put together a plate for you,” he says, setting the bag down on a table and reaching in for the container of Rey’s food.

“That was too kind of her,” Rey says. “Did you tell her she didn’t have to do that? That I still owe her grandson a debt I can’t repay for making him kiss me in public?”

“That wasn’t exactly a hardship for me,” Ben replies. Rey turns away from him, a slight pink tinge appearing on her cheeks.

His focus returns to the bag, not wanting to make Rey feel uncomfortable. He finds a small box with a note attached from his nonna, then underneath he finds the food for Rey.

She takes the container from him and offers him a sweet smile.

Ben does everything he can to keep from kissing her.

He walks her to the door, and Kylo follows them, rubbing against her legs.

“Goodnight, Kylo,” Rey says, before her gaze turns upward to meet Ben's.

“Thank you, Rey—for everything,” he says, holding back what he’s thankful for. Her help with his cat goes without saying, but the way she’s opened his eyes to what he wants—he can’t tell her about his gratitude for that yet.

“Anytime you need help with Kylo, just let me know,” Rey offers.

“I will.”

“Goodnight, Ben,” she adds, before standing on her toes to kiss his cheek.

Ben has to clench his fist to keep from touching her, from pulling her toward him.

“Goodnight, Rey,” he utters, before she’s out the door.

Ben watches her drive away and then shuts the front door. He turns around to see Kylo staring up at him.

The cat lets out an annoyed sound.

“What do you want me to do? I asked her if she wanted to stay.”

Kylo quirks his head at Ben.

“She was the one who left. I didn’t tell her she had to go.”

A tiny orange paw swats in his direction, before Ben scoops the cat up.

“Okay, maybe I could’ve done more, but I just need some time. By Monday, things will be better,” Ben says, trying to convince himself.

He walks back into the living room and retrieves the leftovers before going to the kitchen. On the cabinets, he finds paper snowflakes Rey must’ve made for him, and Ben can’t hold back his smile.

He starts putting the leftovers in his fridge and again finds the small box from his nonna. This time he reads the note.

“It’s time you have this. If you find someone who makes you happy, give this to them.”

Inside the box is his grandmother’s ring.

~~~

Monday morning...

Baz doesn’t have much time. Ben will be working with the contractors in the kitchen for the next hour or so, and she knows they’ll use the back door. Ben wouldn’t want a mess tracked through the rest of his house.

If it’s anything like the last time he had workers in the house, he’ll keep the cat in the living room with the door closed—and hopefully he’ll have his phone in there too.

Ben’s broken a few phones at work or during his little projects, so Baz knows he prefers to leave it out of the way.

She leaves her car a block away and goes to the front door. Baz can hear people in the kitchen, so she carefully enters the living room.

There she finds the phone, the tablet, and that annoying cat. The creature glares at her, but Baz is on a mission. She does a quick once-over to see if there’s anything else she needs to take care of.

That’s when she spots an unfamiliar box on the bookcase. She gasps as she opens it. Baz wants to pocket the beauty, but Ben would definitely notice that. Still, the ring may help her drive her point home.

Baz unlocks Ben’s phone—the man needs to do a better job hiding his passcode—and she snaps a picture of the ring on her finger before putting it back in the box.

She finds the text message she was looking for and starts typing. A few well chosen words, that picture, and then hitting delete several times, and Baz knows one of her problems is solved.

The cat growls the whole time, but she ignores him.

Baz opens the tablet and makes sure the messages and contact are deleted there as well.

Then she opens up the large bag she brought with her. Baz knows the scratches are worth it, as she carries the little monster out of Ben’s house. One stop at the shelter, and her life will go back to just the way she wants it.

~~~

Rey breathes a sigh of relief as she leaves her final exam.

She turns her phone back on, and her joy disappears as she reads a new string of messages.

~~~

Rey feels broken.

She can’t believe Ben would act so differently than he had on Saturday, but how well does she even know him? These texts came from him—maybe he's more of a jerk than she thought.

Only one way to find out. She drives to the shelter to see if Kylo is there.

#reylo #reylo au #reylo fanfic #ben x rey #ben solo #rey nobody #reylo modern au #hallmark Christmas movies

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pluviophile-imagines · 4 years ago

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LOWI CONGRATS ON THE FOLLOWER MILESTONE!! 🥺💞💞💞 u deserve it and so much more!! for the kiss prompt could i get 18 with shinsou ?? 🥺👉👈

TYSM SOFFFF so uh. I’ve been fuckin stupid dkfnskfb my dumbass rlly wrote Shinsou correctly on my master post like a week ago and then still managed to write for Shigaraki instead when it came to the actual piece 😳 so thanks to my handyman brainrot you get two—that’s right, two!—characters for the price of one ur welcome ♥️ I cheated a lil bit so shinsou;s not sitting in the reader’s lap it’s just his head but i think its cute 🥺 also Shiggy’s is like twice as long as ive been trying to write them oops i rlly like the jealous reader premise 👉👈 it’s under the read more bc of that and bc of kiiiinda spoilers? if yall arent caught up to the manga you won’t get it but if u are it’s canonical. Whew that was a lot! Enjoy!

Kisses where one person is sitting in the other’s lap

Shinsou

To say that your relationship with Shinsou is new would be an understatement. You’ve been friends for years—ever since the third year of high school when you’d been assigned to him as his support—but you’ve never been particularly close until recently when you’d once again found yourself working on his hero costume and support items.

He’d only asked you out yesterday after nearly two months of tension-filled glances and fleeting touches. Now, the two of you are watching a movie at your mutual friend Kirishima’s apartment, sitting quite awkwardly on a loveseat and pretending like you don’t want to get closer to each other. You haven’t told your friends yet about your new relationship status, but that’s not entirely what’s holding you two back. If anything, it’s run-of-the-mill first date awkwardness (if watching a movie with six of your closest friends around can be considered a date), too afraid to initiate anything.

The movie’s dull; the two of you have pulled out your phones to snark at each other through text, a strategy you’d begun weeks ago after being hushed one too many times by Kaminari because you were talking too loudly. The bright screens probably aren’t all that much better, but you two are in the back anyway; nobody can see it unless they turn away from the TV.

You risk a glance up and end up locking eyes with Shinsou. Your face heats up, heartbeat quickening, as he gives you a charming smile. You watch him glance around the room, unsure at first why he’s doing it until he turns his attention back to you and slowly, silently, moves over across the loveseat into your personal space.

Your legs are touching now, faces so close your nose is nearly brushing his. One of his hands has come to brace against the armrest you’re leaning on, allowing him to stay leaning in.

“Hey,” he says, little more than a whisper and clearly hushed so the others don’t hear.

“Hey yourself,” you respond, earning yourself a low snort.

Instead of vocally responding, he pushes himself back up to a sitting position and then moves his hands to maneuver your legs until you’re no longer curled up against the couch’s backing but sitting like a normal person.

Then he lays down, head resting on your thighs, and turns to face the movie.

You’re grinning uncontrollably. All possible self-conscious thoughts of the others seeing you are dashed from your mind; you like the weight of him in your lap too much.

You spend much of the rest of the movie like that, easily over half an hour. A few minutes in he reaches down to find your hand and bring it to his hair, encouraging you to stroke it. It’s even softer than you’ve imagined in the past, fluffy and thick and genuinely nice to run your hands though. There’s a surge of contentment that rushes through you, and maybe a little bit of pride at the knowledge that you can do this pretty much any time you want now.

By the end of the film, you’re pretty sure Shinsou’s fallen asleep. He gives you the scare of your life, however, when he grabs your arm as you’re trying to pull away. His eyes open, purple irises trained on you.

What happens next you blame on grogginess, him still not quite being awake. He blames it on you; whenever you mention it, he says he saw you and had become consumed with an overwhelming desire to just lean up and kiss you. Whatever the reason, it’s nice for you.

His hand comes up to the back of your neck, tugging you down just as much as he lifts up. It begins soft, kind of sweet, just lips as the two of you melt into each other—but it doesn’t stay that way for long. Within moments the two of you morph the kiss from a quick peck after a movie to a very passionate makeout, and frankly you’d be more concerned if they hadn’t interrupted the two of you.

You pull away when you hear Kaminari’s wolf whistle, left sitting on the loveseat with a burning face and your boyfriend in your lap, still half asleep.

Shigaraki

You’re not jealous.

No, you’ve been dating Tomura for months. You can’t be jealous when he’s, well, yours, and has been for quite some time. You’re his first relationship, his first everything, and it’s frankly foolish of you to feel this insecure just because some floozy is simpering at him from across the enormous room where you and the rest of the League are scattered about. It’s not like she really wants him, or even knows him; he’s just the hew big-shot leader and she’s decided being his lover sounds good. Too bad that role’s already taken.

Still, there’s a sinking feeling in your chest—an ache in your heart, a burning lump in your throat—that says now that Tomura is Grand Commander he’ll drop you for someone better.

You don’t realize you’re glaring daggers at the woman until she catches your eye. She has no business looking that smug; the only reason she’s allowed in the room is to give Tomura reports. You’re the one lounging next to him as she approaches; he has your legs over his lap, his thumb absent-mindedly rubbing circles on your thigh.

And when she bends down to drop the report on his lap (as if your damn legs aren’t there, you want to scoff) she draws the eyes of every League member except the one she wants, because you’re the one who has Tomura’s attention.

He’s wearing Father, but you’ve long passed being afraid when he looks at you from between those lifeless digits and you can see the expression beneath; those lips tugging down slightly in a pout, brow furrowed, eyes far softer than they have any damn business being while hiding behind the severed hand of his old man. He’s concerned, and a little confused.

Tomura plucks the report from your legs and sets it aside, reaching to pull you fully into his lap. To your surprise he takes Father off, too; he buries his face into your neck to prevent the outsider from seeing, lips just brushing your ear so that you can hear him.

“What’s wrong?”

“Hm?”

“You’ve been pouting ever since the secretary came in, brat.”

Like hell you’re saying anything in front of her. You remain stubbornly silent.

He doesn’t like that, you can tell, but while the secretary’s interest is lost on him he knows you well enough to tell that you’re uncomfortable with her. Presumably that’s why he doesn’t press the issue and kisses you instead.

You don’t expect it. Tomura’s not exactly one to shy away from PDA (you’re sitting in his lap in front of the whole League, for fuck’s sake), but intimacy is something he’s never wanted to take beyond closed doors. When he’s in a sour mood you’ll kiss him sometimes, even in public (he’s invigorated by your affection in many way, but never anything you’d call heated.

This kiss, though, is. It’s anything but chaste, perhaps even downright lewd. He’s all but initiating a makeout with you while Miss Secretary is standing right there. Maybe his affection-motivated ways are rubbing off on you, but it helps more than it probably ought to.

You’re dazed by the time he pulls away. The sound of the door slamming closed snaps you from your trance. The secretary, ploy foiled simply by your annoyed expression, had left. It doesn’t matter. None of this was ever really about her in the first place.

“There,” Tomura says, audibly quite pleased with himself. “She’s gone. Now tell me what’s wrong.”

You sigh, leaning in to tuck your own head into his shoulder. Your voice is muffled when you speak, quiet so that only he can hear.

“It’s dumb.”

“It’s bothering you,” he says simply. There’s an underlying statement there: tell me so I can destroy it for you. In many ways, Tomura is a predictable man.

You know he’s not going to drop it, so you accept your fate. “She was making a pass at you.”

He tenses beneath you, holding you closer. You risk lifting your head from where it’s buried to see the way his nose is scrunched up. “She wasn’t.”

“Yeah, she was.”

There’s a pause, like he’s processing everything you’re saying. Then, seemingly finally registering what exactly is bothering you, his hands move to grip your hips and maneuver you to straddle him, sitting fully on his lap facing him. “Fine. Why’re you pissed about it, then?”

You lean in again, arms coming to wrap around his neck as you bury your face into his chest and try to ignore the tears that are coming. You’d never be able to live it down if any of the others saw you crying over the fucking secretary.

But you know more than anyone thanks to many late nights assuring your boyfriend he’s the only one for you that Tomura can empathize with this insecurity. It’s a little strange how the script has flipped.

“She’s a high ranking MLA member, she probably has some crazy strong quirk. I’m quirkless. I dunno. I guess I’m scared you’ll drop me for someone like her. Like I said, it’s dumb.”

He doesn’t speak for a moment. You sit there, listening to his heartbeat and matching your breathing to his. Then he speaks.

“Your emotions aren’t dumb. It’s okay that you’re feeling this way. Thank you for telling me.” He’s parroting you, you realize; this is what you tell him every time he comes to you for comfort when he’s gotten in a mood. You feel a little fuzzy, warmth flooding your chest. “But I think we both know they’re irrational.”

“Tomura… I—”

“I’m not interested in some lame-ass NPC,” he interrupts, no hesitation and entirely sincere. He doesn’t even need to think about it. “You’re my player two, my endgame. The only thing in this world worth protecting. You really think that secretary can hold a candle to you? I didn’t even notice her. Why would I when you’re here?”

You can’t help it, you surge upward and kiss him, just as passionately as he had you mere moments before. His right hand traces up your spine to find the back of your neck and pull you closer, sending a thrill through your body as your own arms tighten around him.

“Oi! Horndogs! Get a damn room, don’t make us see that!”

You break away at Dabi’s words, panting slightly, and if the sincerity of Tomura’s little rant hadn’t convinced you that his words were true, the look of utter adoration he’s regarding you with would have.

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otonymous · 4 years ago

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Fever Dreams (MLQC Gavin - NSFW)

Description: Gavin lets you in on the contents of his wet dreams… Warnings: NSFW/18+: Explicit/graphic language — reader discretion is advised. Potential trigger warnings: mentions of IV lines, hospitals, minor injuries, brief mentions of trauma, Eli’s sense of impending doom, vaginal intercourse, profanity, masturbation Word Count: ~3K words (~15 mins of sweet, sweet hospital lovemaking 🤣) Author’s Notes: Close your eyes. Imagine that Gavin is by your side — muscles flexed and lips so close they practically brush against the shell of your ear when he whispers the following:

“I hope you enjoy this fic, which was based on and inspired by Gavin’s Whispers/Biting The Ear (咬耳) ASMR from the CN server, beautifully translated by the incredibly talented and gracious @cheri-translates.” 🤣

In all seriousness, I’m extending a massive THANK YOU to the sweet @cheri-translates for providing me with the awesome goods that literally left me breathless! This fic would not have been possible without you! 💕 With that being said, hope you all enjoy it and happy reading! 🥰

👂🏼👂🏼👂🏼👂🏼👂🏼👂🏼👂🏼👂🏼👂🏼👂🏼👂🏼👂🏼👂🏼👂🏼👂🏼👂🏼👂🏼👂🏼👂🏼👂🏼👂🏼👂🏼👂🏼👂🏼👂🏼👂🏼👂🏼👂🏼👂🏼👂🏼👂🏼👂🏼👂🏼👂🏼👂🏼

It was easy to forget at times; that Gavin was made of flesh and bone like everyone else.

That lionhearted though he was, the man wasn’t invincible, no matter what he would have you believe: hiding winces behind smiles and brushing off bruises blooming blue like they were nothing at all.

It was little wonder then that when the phone rang that night, it was Eli’s voice on the other line. And as you stood before the bathroom mirror, wrapped in nothing but a towel and watching the colour drain from your face, the stilted manner of his speech made it increasingly clear he was unused to delivering bad news.

“I’m gonna kill him when I see him,” Gavin swears under his breath, the hand with the IV drip attached pulling into a tight fist by his side.

Now you understood why.

“They’re making a fuss over nothing, keeping me in hospital for observation. It’s just a few scratches.”

Amber eyes train in your direction, the earnestness in their tender depths melting the edge of the anger you felt at always being the last to know anytime your lover got hurt. And when he tries to smile despite the bulky bandage plastered on his left cheek, your resistance falters.

“ ‘They’re making a fuss over nothing.’ I bet you’d say that even if you were missing a limb, Gavin Bai.”

Suddenly exhausted by the anxiety that made you rush to the Special Task Force hospital upon receiving Eli’s call, you slump into the chair at his bedside, still annoyed but relived to find that he was well enough to laugh at your sarcasm.

“Hmm, I must be in a lot of trouble if you’re calling me by name like that.”

Smirk spreading on that handsome face, his eyes take on a mischievous twinkle that makes him altogether impossible to resist. You couldn’t help but think of that rough and tumble high school senior who threw furtive glances in your direction every time he walked past in the halls, lip cut and face bruised.

“Come. It’s too late to go home now and you can’t sleep on the chair like that. Join me on the bed.”

Voice breaking through your reverie, Gavin holds out the hand that wasn’t hooked to the drip — large, strong and inviting. You hesitate, fingers fiddling with the hem of your shirt as you look towards the door.

“I-I really shouldn’t. We’re in a hospital and there won’t be enough room for the two of us. You, especially, need a good night’s sleep, being injured—”

Three dull pats sound in quick succession to interrupt you. Turning your head, you see Gavin scooting to one side of the bed, hand beckoning towards the newly vacated space. “The beds here are larger than the ones in your average hospital. STF perk, I guess. But if you insist on refusing then…I guess I’ll just have to accompany you in sleeping sitting up—”

Relenting with a click of the tongue, you snatch the pillow from his grasp just as he begins propping it up behind his back, sliding it beneath his head as you gingerly crawl in next to him.

“That’s my girl.”

Gavin’s whisper is electric in your ear, low and seductive in a way that made you question the innocence of his motives, wondering if he was already aware of the sensations his body pressed to the side of yours was eliciting. His lips curve in a smile on your forehead, breath dancing hot across skin. And when he reaches for you, the sight mesmerizes: long, tapered fingers smoothing slow along the strands of your hair.

“Eli must’ve called while you were still in the shower. You didn’t even have time to dry your hair, did you? Look at how wet it is.”

And though you were on the verge of telling him that it wasn’t only your hair that was wet, you thought better of it. There was a heaviness in his tone, weighed down by the concern that inevitably arose every time Gavin thought you weren’t taking care of yourself: encouraging you with bites of the BBQ pork rice he brought in takeout containers whenever you skipped meals during late nights at the office, draping his jacket over your shoulders when you shook from the cold — having decided on form over function in a lightweight but pretty new dress worn especially to impress on date nights.

“Don’t worry, it’s almost dry anyway.”

“Hmm.” Faint displeasure taints his acknowledgment, but you close your eyes to the furrow in his brows, unable to focus on anything other than the touch of his fingers on your skin — calloused tips tracing the line of your jaw to traipse over the chin until finally coming to rest on your lower lip. He is so close you can feel the tail end of your exhalation being drawn into Gavin’s next breath when he says:

“I know I really scared you this time. I’m sorry. I was careless, but it won’t happen again. Please don’t be mad, okay?”

Eyes opening to the sight of his, you study the specks of gold embossed in amber, beautifully familiar. See your reflection in the dark pupils holding your face in loving regard. Felt your heart chill at the thought of Gavin one day not returning home. And when the sting of tears arrives to redden the tip of your nose, you turn away, unwilling to add to his burdens with your own.

“All I ask…is that you be open with me. I know you want to protect me, Gavin. You don’t want me to worry. But it’s much worse to have to guess about whether or not you’re lying just to be kind. I’m a grown woman and your partner, so please don’t handle me with kid gloves. Let me take care of you too, sometimes.”

Staring at the patterns on the curtain drawn around the bed, you listen for the rhythm of his breath — slow and even in the ensuing silence and punctuated only by the intermittent beeps of machinery, the weight of your concerns slowly sinking in before he finally relents.

“Okay. I won’t keep anything from you anymore. I promise. So please…could you let me just…”

A hand wraps around your waist, grip firm yet gentle as he pulls you close beneath the thin sheet. You feel his mouth on the nape of your neck, Gavin’s kisses falling hot and insistent between muffled words.

“…hold you, like this?”

Nodding, you bite your lip, barely suppressing a moan to feel his fingers crawl beneath your shirt; warming themselves on the soft skin of your belly, tracing circles about the navel.

“Seven days. It’s been…hmm…seven days since I’ve last held you. It’s too long.”

The last statement is breathed into the curve of your neck and shoulder, your boyfriend inhaling deeply as he buries his face into the space, the embrace around you tightening as if touch alone could communicate all the longing he wasn’t quite able to put into words.

“It was a difficult mission. I couldn’t sleep. And anytime I did, I would dream of you. Always of you. Want to know what we did?”

Cotton-mouthed, you resort to nodding again.

“Then be a good girl and turn around first. I want…need to see you…that’s good. In my dreams, we’d be together, just like this. I’d have you in my arms, so close I could feel every inch of your body…how hot it is…just like now. No, don’t move away. I like it. I’ve got a fever, but I’m also feeling chilled. I want your heat.”

Those amber eyes are dark now, half-lidded and veiled with lust — proof that Gavin’s increasingly shallow breathing was not an exaggeration. It was a look you recognized; the expression his handsome face wore the moment he saw you again after a mission had kept him away for too long. It typically resulted in entire weekends spent in bed, limbs entwined as Gavin made love to you over and over again.

Until you were boneless and spent.

Until your lover was satisfied that he was thoroughly reacquainted with every curve of your body.

You reach for him: trembling fingers tracing the line of his brow, thumb circling the apple of his cheek. Gavin closes his eyes, exhalation shaky as he nuzzles into your palm to lay a kiss on that, too.

“Your touch feels cool on my skin.”

“Oh! I’m sorry—”

“No. Don’t be.” Fingers curling about the wrist that pulled back, Gavin gently guides your hand towards his forehead. “It’s nice. I like it. But…my back is warm too. Do you think you could help me lower the temperature there?”

Swallowing, you start to inch your hands towards the open back of his hospital gown. Gavin softly groans to feel your fingers running along the ridge of his shoulder blades, caressing defined muscles and faded scars you had committed to memory long ago.

“Is this all right?”

Now his turn to nod, Gavin’s head drops back, accentuating the bob of his prominent Adam’s apple in that strong, thick neck.

“I’m...ah…also feeling hot here.”

Large palms fall over the back of your hands, guiding them over his rib cage until they find themselves on the hard muscles of Gavin’s abdomen. Thighs pressing together beneath your skirt, you trace that defined V-line — touch featherlight in a way that draws out a shudder, goosebumps blooming across the expanse of Gavin’s skin.

Suddenly, you freeze to hear footsteps approaching in the hallway beyond the door. And just when you start to pull away, Gavin stops you with a whisper:

“Don’t worry. The nurse has already been in to check on me tonight. They won’t be back again, unless…unless they see that my heart rate has become unusually high.”

He winks.

“Besides, if they find you here, I’ll just say that, um…I’m afraid of sleeping by myself in the dark.”

That smirk again. You wonder at what point your boyfriend had become so cheeky, knowing just the right things to say to get his way.

“Could you help me? I’m burning up…right here.”

Lower and lower, he guides your hands, leaving them to their own devices when they reach the waistband of his boxers. Barely breathing, you watch as the expression on his face transforms from anticipation to euphoria the moment you slip past the elastic, fingers circling his hardened length with a loose grip.

“Officer, you weren’t lying!”

Gaze already heavy with want, the chuckle Gavin lets out in response has never sounded so sexy. “It’s because I’m running a fever. Or perhaps…it’s because I’m thinking of you. Do you think we should…make it even hotter?”

You wet your lips, feeling Gavin twitch in your hand at the sight; feel the vein pulsing on the underside of that thick shaft as he continues to swell in size. Firming up your grip, you begin to stroke in earnest, trying to maintain your rhythm despite the distraction of your own throbbing pussy, despite the way you grew increasingly wet to envision him sliding into your depths, satin panties clinging to the lines of your folds.

Smoothing your thumb over the liquid arousal beading at the tip of his cock, you draw wide, slick circles over velvet skin — paying especial attention to the ridge just below the swollen head because you loved how Gavin sounded when caught in the throes of ecstasy. It pleased you to pleasure him — the man who never thought twice about putting you before himself.

Always so strong, always fearless, you loved to watch him fall apart. Over you. Beneath you. In you. Held in the palm of your hand or folded to your embrace. You could feel the tension leaving his body — worn out and battered — each time he returned to your side from a mission, the trauma of all the things he couldn’t talk about seeping from every pore as you sought to show him love with the swing of your hips, the kisses you showered upon his sweat-soaked face. With the normalcy only the simplicity of a home-cooked meal could restore. “I love you,” he’d smile and say, amber eyes blinking once, twice…as if Gavin couldn’t quite believe you were real. “I really do.”

“This is the first time someone has stayed with me in the hospital, let alone shared my hospital bed.” Gavin’s voice is low, thick with emotion in between shuddering gasps elicited by each tug along his length. “Who would’ve thought that...even at a time like this…I’d be lucky enough not to be alone.”

“I’d never let you be lonely,” you say with a sudden vehemence that surprises even you. “Never again.”

He smiles, gentle eyes glistening when his large hand approaches to cup your face. Gavin touches you as if holding something of infinite importance, “Angel” falling from his lips in a soft utterance.

“I don’t think I can sleep tonight. I don’t want to. What about you? Will you…stay up with me?…Help my fever break—”

You kiss him deeply, swallowing his words even as your tongue pushes past teeth to meet Gavin’s in reunion. You had missed him; missed the way he tasted, the hint of mint that lingered in the breath you shared, as if your very lives were as entwined as your bodies in embrace.

To lose him was to lose yourself.

And so, you give yourself over to the man who gave so much and asked for so little in return.

“Then I won’t sleep either. I want to stay with you.”

Throwing one last glance at the door, you rise to your knees, skirt bunching at the waist as you straddle his hips. Eyes wide, Gavin starts to move before you stop him, saying “Let me” as you push him back onto the bed before the IV line could pull taut.

You loved how Gavin looked at you, the artless way he wore his heart on his sleeve — showing in the pink of his cheeks, the blush creeping all the way to the tips of pierced ears. It was a side of him only you were privy to; unguarded and unfiltered. He watched you now, those amber eyes lit with a dark hunger to follow the motions of your hands: one pulling dampened panties aside as the other spreads glistening lips, guiding his cock along the length of your slit before you ease yourself onto his hard heat.

Unable to stop the moan that escapes, you slide…lower and lower…until the flesh of your buttocks meets the muscular plane of his pelvis. But the sensation continues — electricity spreading towards the very pit of the stomach to curl your spine, chest opening to receive all of his love.

Breathing barely controlled, Gavin bites hard on his lip in a bid to stay quiet, unwilling to attract the attention of curious staff. “God, you feel so good. I just…just want to move.”

“No, let me…let me be the one to take care of you this time. Please.”

For the second time that night, Gavin relents, yielding to your exquisite torture even as he fought to leash the animal impulse that spurred him to rip free of the machinery and fuck you until the bed collapsed. Hands clenching tight around the bedsheet, his knuckles grow white, as if the flimsy fabric were a lifeline keeping him from being swept away each time you lifted and lowered yourself onto him.

For everything about you drove him mad, from the tight, grinding circles you drew with your hips whenever he was fully sheathed, to the clenching embrace of your arousal-slicked walls that held him like no other, as if the entirety of you were created with him in mind. Or, at least, it was a fantasy he harboured; to think that fate had a hand in ordaining you his sole queen, and him, forever your humble servant.

“Ahh, Gavin!…I…you’re so deep, I’m com—”

You don’t get to finish before your mind blanks. All you could focus on was the sudden grip of Gavin’s hands on your hips and the shift of your weight forwards when his knees draw up, giving your lover the proper leverage to pound hard and fast into you from below until your arousal pools to drench those six-pack abs.

It nearly overwhelms you; the orgasm that makes you collapse onto Gavin’s chest, the contractions that hit like tidal waves moving through your body. They spur him on, continuing to fuck you so hard the bed shook, each and every thrust hitting just the right, swollen spot to keep you elevated on that high. And when you whisper

“I love you”

before your tongue extends to suck the lobe of his ear into your mouth, the tension building in the taut muscles of that perfect body breaks.

You hear your name leave his lips in a deep moan, feel him leave a part of himself in the secret space between your legs. Taste the salt of his sweat on kisses laid upon the pulse of his neck. Waited for his racing heart to slow before telling yours it was okay to do the same.

And when his arms wrap tightly around your body, “I love you, too” returned with palpable affection, you let yourself fall into slumber…knowing that even in dreams, Gavin would meet you there.

Thank you so much for reading! Check out more of my work here! 📚

#mlqc #mr love queen's choice #love and producer #mr love dream date #evol x love #mlqc gavin #mlqc bai qi #mlqc gavin smut #mlqc smut #my writing #fanfiction #mlqc ASMR

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hrina · 5 years ago

Text

In The Ring, Pt. IV - Uppercut

PAIRING: Harry x Reader RATING: M WORD COUNT: 10.6k REQUESTED: yes!

well lads................this is it 🥺🥺🥺 thank u guys so much for all the love you’ve given this series. i would’ve never expected to receive such a positive response, but u guys rly went above and beyond. i adore u all so much

warning: parts of this fic will contain mentions of blood, violence, mild stalking, and sexual content. if any of that makes you uncomfortable, please take care of yourself and keep scrolling <3

as always, my masterlist and my inbox are both linked in my bio! i worked really hard on this last part! i wanted to make sure it was all perfect, so i hope everyone enjoys it. gentle reminder to reblog the fics you like! it’s a great way to show appreciation as well as give authors more exposure. ok that’s all hehe can’t wait to hear your thoughts! take care 💙💙💙

PART I: Jab

PART II: Cross

PART III: Hook

~*~

March 20, 2021

Harry keeps his promise, and Artie brings your car back around to your place the next day. You sit up straight at the table when you hear the familiar honking of a horn sound from outside. Your feet suddenly seem to have a mind of their own, carrying you out of the kitchen quickly with your father’s confused inquiries ringing in your ears. You open the front door before Artie even has the chance to knock.

“Thanks, Jason,” you tell him, breathless.

He hands you your keys and accepts the quick hug that you bestow upon him. “No problem, little girl. Is everything alright?”

Harry didn’t tell him.

“Yeah,” you lie, nodding. “I just—I had a bit too much to drink last night, that’s all.” Your voice drops an octave. “Don’t tell my dad, okay?”

Artie presses two of his fingertips together and drags them over the seam of his mouth, metaphorically sealing his lips. You smile, your heartbeat returning to its regular pace beneath the confines of your ribs.

You step back, extending an arm and gesturing for him to enter.

“Are you hungry? We were in the middle of eating lunch.”

“Sure,” he says, kicking off his shoes and arranging them against the wall. “Thank you.”

He and your father talk about anything and everything during the meal—boxing, the economy, the basketball game that had aired late last night. You just sit there and eat your food, not wanting to attract any unnecessary attention.

They include you in the conversation for a bit—Artie asks how classes are going, and you tell him that you’re waiting for medical school acceptance (or rejection) letters to start rolling in. Other than that, they don’t bat an eye when you rinse your plate in the sink and politely excuse yourself from the table. You hide behind the fact that you have to work on an assignment that’s due in a week—the paper is worth a third of your grade and it’s crucial that you ace it.

But once you hobble back into your room, you’re crawling into bed and pulling the covers up over your head. You reach around blindly for your phone, snatching it up from where it’s charging on your nightstand. You unlock the device, scrolling through all of the grey messages that pop up right away—sent last night, one after the other, each of them unanswered, growing more and more desperate as the hours pass.

Can we please talk about this?

I’m sorry, please let me explain.

Are you ignoring me?

I know you’re seeing these. Please respond.

And then a final one, dejected and crestfallen, laced with palpable weakness even through the pixels of your screen.

Goodnight.

April 6, 2021

Harry’s on a losing streak.

A five-match losing streak, to be precise.

He’s never been bested this many times in a row. Your father is baffled by it, unsure of why he’s been so distracted in the ring. It’s even more confusing, he thinks, considering the fact that he’s at the gym every single day, lifting weights, practicing his technique, throwing himself into the sport. But once the actual fights roll around, things change. You’re not there, and you’re his lucky charm, and because of that, he finds himself meeting the ground far more often than he’d like to admit.

Your father said that the end of the semester was approaching—as a consequence, you were buckling down with school. Harry supposes that the timing is right, so the pretext must be true. But his opponents don’t know that (nor would they care). Your absence doesn’t stop them from knocking him down with snarling faces and heavy fists. The crowds holler loudly, goading him to get back up, but Harry doesn’t. He refuses to give them the satisfaction of watching him get beaten to a bloody pulp.

He stopped trying to reach out to you a week after the night of the kiss. He composed several texts a day, but each message had been met with silence. He remembers staring down at his phone one time, watching as three grey dots wiggled on the screen for a minute or two before disappearing entirely.

That’s when he gave up. If you didn’t want to talk, fine.

It hurt like hell, though.

And it’s still hurting like hell, even a week and a half later.

You told your father about James. He had mentioned it in passing to Harry, having to end practice earlier than usual because he had to set a court date to deal with some bastard who wouldn’t leave you alone. And that’s comforting, Harry thinks, because at least he knows that you’ll be safe, now.

He just wishes that he could’ve been the one to bring you that bit of solace.

That’s why, when your father invites him over for dinner one night after a particularly strenuous evening of training, he jumps at the opportunity. You’re making lasagna, your father says, having taken a break from studying for exams. Harry agrees to come over, because it’s been a while since he’s had a real, curated, love-infused, home-cooked meal.

And because you’ll be there, too, obviously. But he refrains from letting that incentive slip loose.

His heart is racing nervously when he parks his truck in front of your house. Memories flood his brain, reminding him of what had happened the last time he’d been here—the glint of your necklace under his fingers, the alluring twinkle in your eyes. The softness of your lips against his, the sensation of your nails carding through his hair—

Your father taps on the window of the driver’s seat.

“H?” he says, muffled through the glass. “You coming?”

“Yeah,” Harry chokes out, unbuckling his seatbelt and sliding out of the vehicle. “Yeah, sorry.”

He follows your father up the porch steps, waiting anxiously as the other man unlocks the front door. It swings open; they both step inside. Harry’s eyes widen when your father calls out, “Gioia? I’m home!”

“Hi!” comes your reply.

He freezes when the sound reaches his ears, because he hasn’t heard your voice—much less seen you—in over two weeks. He shuts the door discreetly, removing his shoes and trailing after your father as he pads down the hall. The closer he draws to the kitchen, the more he can smell it—meat, spices, cheese. His stomach rumbles in anticipation.

“Hope you made enough for three,” your father says, entering the room.

Harry lingers behind you, leaning against the wide threshold with his arms crossed protectively over his chest. He’s still a bit sweaty, but he hopes that the lasagna in the oven will mask the musky scent of the perspiration gleaming on his skin.

“Three?” you ask. You’re standing at the sink, your back to them. “Hi, Jason.”

A beat of silence passes, and then—

“Er, not exactly,” Harry grunts.

You stiffen immediately before spinning around. He doesn’t miss the quiet little gasp that leaves your mouth.

Your gaze locks with his, lips parted in surprise, and he can’t help but wonder if coming here was the smartest or the most foolish decision he’s ever made.

~*~

He and your father set the table.

After a few minutes, three plates and three collections of cutlery are laid out over a pristine white cloth. Harry eases into his chair as you carry over a hot tray of lasagna, your hands sheathed in a pair of red oven mittens. You put the pasta down in front of your father, who is sat at the head of the table. He inhales deeply, a small smile forming on his face.

“Smells amazing, sweetheart,” he tells you, nodding in approval. “Even better than your mother’s.”

“That’s a lie,” you tease, chuckling quietly and removing the crimson gloves from your fingers. You cut a large piece from the platter and deposit it onto his dish. “There you go.”

“Thank you,” he says.

He waits patiently as you separate another chunk of pasta for Harry, setting it down on his plate without a word.

“Thank you,” Harry tells you, his voice hoarse.

“You’re welcome,” you say. The response is short, painfully clipped—it makes him wince.

As soon as everyone has food in front of them, you sit down in your chair, reaching for the fork and the knife resting a few inches away from your dish. Before you can dig in, however, you pause, lifting your chin and squeezing your eyes shut.

“Shit,” you murmur. “Forgot the drinks.”

“There’s juice in the fridge, I think,” your father says through a mouthful of pasta.

“No.” You wave his suggestion away. “How about some wine? I’ll grab a bottle from the cellar.”

“Alright.” He nods, but then speaks again as you stand. “Wait—I think the treadmill in the basement is blocking the door. Harry—,” Harry’s head snaps up, nostrils flaring at the mention of his name, “—would you mind going with her? She won’t be able to move it by herself.”

“Uh,” he says stupidly. “Yeah, sure.”

He quickly excuses himself from the table, glancing over at you to register your reaction. Your expression is stony, betraying nothing. You swallow heavily, looking away and marching quickly out of the kitchen. He follows you without another word, hot on your heels.

The basement is dimly-lit, stocked with a few shelves of non-perishable foods and household supplies. Harry remains silent as you make your way over to the far wall, approaching the dark grey treadmill pressed against the door of the cellar. You place both hands on the side of the machine, giving it a firm push and grunting when it budges only an inch.

“You going to help me, or what?” you ask, casting an expectant glance at Harry from over your arm.

He blinks. “Right.”

Together, the two of you manage to ease the treadmill a few feet to the left. It’s enough space for you to open the door of the wine cellar and slip inside. Darkness envelopes your bodies, dissolving only when a small click! echoes through the still air. A moment later, the alcove is illuminated in a dull glow, compliments of the scrawny yellow bulb hanging from the ceiling.

You release the thin string attached to the light, turning around and gasping when you find Harry perched directly behind you. Your chests brush together—the contact sends sparks whizzing down his spine. You spin back around quickly, clearing your throat and scanning all of the different bottles balanced on the shelves.

“Thanks for your help,” you say dryly. “You can go back upstairs, now.”

“I’m good,” Harry mutters.

He clasps his hands behind his back as you trail your index finger along dozens of cream-coloured labels. Your hair is gathered in a low ponytail; a few shorter, wispier strands peek out from behind your ears. You’re not wearing makeup, today—and why would you, Harry thinks, when you’re the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen?

“So,” he starts, itching to break the silence, “your dad told me that you’re filing a restraining order against James.”

“Yeah,” you reply curtly. He waits for you to continue, but you say nothing else.

“Feel better now that you’ve come clean?” he questions. Immediately, he knows that it’s the wrong thing to ask. But it’s out there, now, and he can’t exactly take it back.

A hollow laugh tumbles off of your tongue. Behind you, Harry notices the way you shake your head in disdain.

“You’re ridiculous,” you say under your breath.

“What was that?” He cocks an eyebrow challengingly, frowning at your tone.

“I said that you’re ridiculous,” you gripe, whipping around and fixing him with a fiery glare. “Need me to repeat it again?”

“If that means you’ll finally be speaking to me, then yeah, go for it,” he snaps, folding his arms over his chest.

“I—,” you break off, surprised by the bite in his rebuttal. Harry clenches his jaw when you turn back around. Your hand quivers as you reach for a random bottle of red wine. “I’m not doing this with you right now.”

“When, then?” he demands, taking a step closer. His front skims along your shoulder blades, and when you face him once more, your eyes widen in shock at the close proximity of your bodies. The little room suddenly feels much smaller, walls looming forward and closing you in. Your chest swells as you suck in a deep breath.

“When are we finally going to fucking talk about this?” Harry presses, meeting your gaze. Desperation drips from every syllable of his query.

You purse your lips, exhaling raggedly.

“Soon.”

A feeble assent.

An insipid shake of your head.

You angle your torso to the side, easily slipping past him and out of the cellar.

“But not today.”

April 10, 2021

Your nose is buried in a textbook when the message comes through.

Cell biology. So much information to remember, so many reactions to list, so many molecules to name. And weeks of studying, just for a two-hour-long final that’ll take place three days from now. If you weren’t so stressed out, the sheer nonsensicality of the situation would have made you laugh.

So when your phone chimes with the alert, you figure that it’s time for a break. A quick conversation with one of your friends, maybe. Something to take your mind off of the looming exam, even if it is just for a few minutes at a time. After that, you’ll get back to revising.

Sadly, nothing is ever that simple.

We need to talk. Come to the gym.

Your eyes widen when the words sink in. As you rub your clammy palms against the grey material of your sweatpants, another text pops up below the first.

Please.

You shouldn’t. You need to study. But even as you warn yourself against it, your brain is already coming up with a multitude of reasons to meet with him. It’s just one night. Your exam isn’t for another few days. You have time. You deserve to take a break.

Your keys jingle cheerfully as you toss them into your bag.

~*~

Harry is going to town when you walk into the gym.

You’re not quite sure how that poor punching bag has managed to stay balanced on its hook. Harry’s coming at it from every angle, pummeling the leather with hard, heavy fists. He’s wearing a black tank top today; deep armholes cut into the sides of the fabric and expose most of his torso. The dark tattoos on his skin glisten under a thin sheen of sweat; a small, stupid part of you expects the ink to run and smudge before you remember that the designs are permanent.

What’s even worse? Dangerous Woman by Ariana Grande is playing on his phone. The soft, feathery croons of her voice mix with the low grunts that escape Harry’s throat—sounds that claw their way out of him with each blow delivered to the bag. Under normal circumstances, the juxtaposition would have made you snort.

Now though, it just reminds you of that night all those months ago, when you’d asked him to teach you how to box. This entire train wreck could have been avoided if you’d simply kept your mouth shut.

Harry still hasn’t noticed you. How could he, when you’re standing behind him?

You clear your throat. He freezes mid-strike.

His grassy eyes are wide when he turns around.

“Hi,” he says, surprised. “I—I didn’t think you would come.”

“I was halfway here when I realised that I didn’t text you back,” you reply, scratching awkwardly at the nape of your neck. “But, like…no handheld devices behind the wheel, and all that jazz.”

His lips twitch. “Yeah. Good.”

You cross your arms over your chest, scanning your surroundings. You don’t know why you do that—nothing in the gym has changed. You’re just trying to avoid Harry’s gaze, which is a lot easier said than done.

“You, um…you wanted to talk?”

“Yeah.” He nods, walking over to the ring and pausing the music streaming from his phone.

He then reaches for two pairs of boxing gloves, nestling one in the crook of his elbow and tossing the other at you. The strap of your purse slides from your shoulder as you catch the leather in your arms. You peer down at the gloves, eyes narrowing in confusion before you train them back on him.

“I don’t get it,” you deadpan.

“Really?” Harry asks. He hoists himself onto the raised platform of the ring and slips through the gaps in the ropes. “Because you’ve been begging to go up against me since January. Are you seriously gonna back out now?”

“Go up against—” The rest of your sentence fizzles out. “I…I thought you wanted to have a conversation, not a competition.”

He shrugs, regarding you evenly as he pulls his gloves on and tightens the straps around his wrists. He then bumps his enclosed fists together, tilting his head to the side.

“Why can’t we do both?”

~*~

You look pretty, Harry thinks.

Standing on the far side of the ring, wearing a black tank top, grey sweatpants, and bright pink sneakers—yeah, you look pretty. You’ve cuffed your bottoms so that they’re rolled up to the spot just below your knees, and your hair has been pulled back into a low bun. There’s no emotion on your face as you stare him down, taking a few steps closer and assuming a fighting stance.

You’ve gotten better—he’ll be the first to admit it. But he’s going to beat you, and you both know it. It’s just a matter of when.

He decides that, for the time being, he’ll go easy on you. The two of you will talk things out, and afterward, he might let you win. Maybe. He’s still on the fence about that.

You both begin to move in a circle. After a long moment of silence, Harry says, “You go first.”

“No, you,” you grit out. He just shrugs.

Fine. Have it your way.

You block the straight, pointed jab that he throws, and pride swells up in his chest. It’s a simple punch to deflect, but nevertheless, it tells him that you’ve learned something over these past few months. And that means that he’s done a good job as your teacher.

As your friend…not so much.

Do friends kiss other friends the same way you’d kissed him in front of your house?

He really doesn’t know.

“Right, then,” Harry starts, nodding. “Let’s talk.”

“About what?” you ask. Your nose wrinkles in concentration as you direct a blow toward his stomach. He blocks it easily. “About how you kissed me back and then told me you didn’t have feelings for me?”

“I—,” he’s stunned, because okay, you’re coming right on out with it. “I’m sorry.”

He’s sorry for lying, but you don’t seem to realise that.

“I was so fucking embarrassed,” you say, lunging forward and throwing a cross at his nose. He bats your fist away like it’s nothing more than a pesky fly. “But I guess that I’m mad at myself, too. Here I am, starting to like you, meanwhile I barely know anything about you.”

“What do you want to know?” he asks, keeping his arms in front of his face.

(Deep down, beneath his stoic exterior, he can’t believe what he’s hearing. You had been ‘starting to like’ him? He’s scared, then, because that means he ruined everything that night in his truck. Do you still feel the same way?)

Harry blinks—shakes his head free of those thoughts and continues. “Ask me, and I’ll tell you.”

“Really,” you reply, though it isn’t exactly a question.

You drop your hands, taken aback by his offer. He’s not usually this open—you should seize the opportunity to probe while it’s still available. You will, he thinks. Over these past few months, he’s learned how you operate. You’re not predictable, by any means, but he knows that you can’t resist inquiring about his personal life when given the chance.

You want to know him. If he thinks about it for too long, his affections become exceedingly difficult to bear.

“Really,” he says.

He steps forward and curves his right arm in a powerful hook. You yelp jarringly when the rough leather of his glove makes contact with your left shoulder. He just shrugs, pulling back.

“Remember: don’t let your guard down.”

You clench your jaw and raise your fists once more.

“Fine, then,” you say, sidestepping another one of his jabs. “Where were you born?”

“Redditch, England,” he answers simply. “Moved to Holmes Chapel when I was a kid, though.”

You nod. The two of you continue to circle each other.

“Got any siblings?” you ask, charging him and attempting to deliver a series of punches to his torso. He deflects each of them with his forearms, never faltering.

“A sister,” he says, unbothered. “She lives back home.”

“And what about your parents?” you press, retreating and watching him with careful eyes.

He swallows roughly, shaking his head. “Dad left when I was seven. Mum died when I was fourteen.”

At that, you pause. You heed his earlier advice and keep your hands in front of your face, but it’s clear that his confession has caught you by surprise. Your gaze softens, and he watches as your lips curl down into a sympathetic frown.

“I’m sorry,” you tell him quietly, your shoulders slouching. “That’s terrible.”

He shrugs. “It’s in the past—can’t change it, now.”

He takes advantage of your pitying nature, springing toward you and aiming a punch for your hip. You barely manage to avoid the blow, jumping back at the last second. His glove scrapes swiftly against your side. The attack seems to snap you out of your emotions, because you scowl deeply and return to your original stance.

“What happened after that?” you ask, breathing erratically.

“They put me in foster care,” Harry says, shaking his head. “It was shit, though. I ran away after a couple of years. Went off on my own—that’s when I met your dad.”

“And he started training you?”

“And he started training me,” he confirms with a curt nod. “Couldn’t actually fight until I turned eighteen, but after that…I was taking up as many matches as I could.” He chuckles warmly at the memory. “Your dad said that he’d never seen anything like it. Told me I had to slow down.”

You smile a bit at his words. Your fondness quickly melts into shock, however, when Harry aims a hit for your face. You block the punch, retaliating quickly and throwing one of your own. Your fist makes contact with the barrier of his chest, and he stumbles backward, his eyes widening in disbelief. You got him.

Only once, but still.

You got him.

“Not bad,” he grunts, squaring his shoulders. “Maybe I should actually start trying, now.”

You grit your teeth, glowering at him. “God, you’re such a dick.”

He flashes you a contemptuous grin before lunging forward. You dodge two of his punches, but the third one catches you right in the stomach, making you double over and cough. Harry retreats, a mischievous smirk on his face.

“Done getting to know me?” he simpers.

You shake your head, straightening back up. “Not yet.”

You make a valiant effort, Harry thinks. Your dedication is commendable. But he’s had a decade of training, whereas you’ve only had a few months. Your technique—though improved—is still sloppy. And that’s what allows him to sidestep all of your strikes and react quickly, enough so that he’s got you pinned to the ground in just under two minutes.

You’re panting heavily; one of his forearms holds your crossed wrists down over your head. His other hand is planted on the floor just above your shoulder, the flat front of his boxing glove providing a stable surface to keep him balanced. His knees are next to your waist as he hovers over your stomach, giving you no room to worm out of his grip. You flail your legs in frustration, but he’s perched too high up on your body for the action to do any real damage.

“I win,” he says simply, arrogance dancing in his eyes. He leans down so that your noses are only inches apart. “Any more questions, baby?”

“Just one,” you bite, panting heavily.

He cocks an eyebrow, waiting for the inquiry to leave your lips. Once it does, however, it knocks every molecule of air from his lungs.

“Have you…,” you inhale deeply, “…ever been in love?”

The expression on your face tells him that you know exactly what you’re doing. Your chest heaves with exertion, and when his gaze flickers down to your breasts for only a fraction of a second, your eyes illumine with realisation.

“You want me,” you tell him, breathless. A thin, reflective layer of perspiration has gathered at your hairline. Your arms twitch from where they’re pinned beneath his. Despite the gloves still covering your hands, you grasp at his slippery skin, hoping that the contact will somehow make his already-weak resolve crack and crumble into nothing.

“No,” he says, his voice hard.

His green irises burn into your face. Who is he trying to convince?

“You’re lying,” you wheeze, shaking your head. “You want me.”

Your skin is hot. He can feel you radiating warmth like a fireplace. Heated, cozy, welcoming—it’s everything he loves about you, everything he’s been craving since he first became conscious of how badly he desired you. And, to top it all off, you’re looking at him like that—with eyes that could persuade him to jump from a skyscraper, if you so much as asked.

Just like that.

“Fuck,” Harry spits. He pulls back sharply and stamps his own eyes shut. His nose screws up in frustration. “Fuck.”

And then he’s kissing you.

The elated moan that slips from your lips has his cock twitching fitfully in his shorts. You arch your back to get closer to him, because with his hand still pinning you down, it’s not like you can throw your arms around his neck and bring him to you. The kiss is messy and frenzied and hot and carnal. Harry licks into your mouth, savouring the squeak that echoes in your throat.

You’re vocal—he’s going to fucking die.

When the two of you pull back, no words are exchanged. Harry stares down at you, taking note of how your pupils have dilated immensely. Your chest is still heaving, but this time, it’s for a completely different reason. He releases your wrists from where they’re pinned beneath his forearm, watching you carefully as he sits up.

He lifts his fist to his face and takes the strap of the glove between his teeth. The sharp riiip! that ensues may as well be a starter gunshot.

You both dive back into a sea of teeth and lips and tongue. Harry throws off his gloves easily. You struggle with yours, but he wastes no time, helping you discard them in a matter of seconds. With your hands finally free, you bury them in his hair, pulling at the soft, damp tendrils as he presses several hard kisses to your mouth.

“Fuck,” he mutters, slanting his body downward so that his crotch is level with yours. “You—you have no idea—”

The rest of his sentence fades into a groan when you suck harshly on his jaw. He shudders at the sensation.

Gradually, you bring your legs out from beneath his own, lifting your knees up to your chest and then wrapping your thighs around his waist. It’s an impressive feat, if he’s being honest. And it gives him more room to lean over you, to grind his cock against your centre through the layers of fabric separating your skin.

“Off—,” you choke, tugging at the bottom of his black shirt. “Get this off!”

He complies, sitting back up on his knees and ridding himself of the fabric. You take advantage of his instability, wrapping one hand around his bicep and giving it a hard shove. He topples to the side and you scramble up to straddle him, a small, smug smile ghosting across your face.

“What are you—?” he starts, but you place one finger against his lips, cutting him off.

You start to roll your hips gently into his—he groans, wishing more than anything that there were no clothes in the way. Goosebumps erupt on his arms when you lightly scrape your nails down his bare chest. You settle at the butterfly inked into his abdomen, tracing the insect’s wings with a wondrous look in your eyes. His palms sweep up your thighs.

“Why did you lie to me?” you murmur, keeping your gaze trained on his torso. “You feel the same, don’t you?”

He nods wordlessly.

“Why, then?” you press, frowning gently. “I—we could’ve avoided this whole thing if you’d just told me the truth.”

“Your dad,” Harry says weakly. “I can’t—you’re his—”

“My dad has no control over who I date or who I fuck,” you say. He’s stunned by the crudeness of your claim. “And if I want to fuck you right here, right now, then that’s what I’m going to do.”

“You—Christ,” he swallows heavily, squeezing his eyes shut. “You can’t just say shit like that.”

“Why not?” you smirk, grinding against him harshly and feeling the stiff outline of his cock in his shorts. “You seem to be enjoying it.”

“Fuck,” he grunts. You shriek when he flips the two of you over so that he’s back on top. His nose brushes against yours as he speaks.

“If we do this,” he warns, hot breath fanning out over your chin, “I won’t be gentle. In every single one of my fantasies, I’ve ruined you—made you drool, made you cry. You name it, I’ve done it. You sure you can handle that?”

“Yes,” you breathe, utterly enthralled. “I’m sure.”

Harry tucks a loose piece of your hair behind your ear, peering down at you tenderly.

“Look so pretty,” he coos, fingers skimming down the side of your throat. “Can’t wait to wreck your cute, little—” He sucks in a deep breath, weakened by the shamelessness of his own thoughts. “Gonna make sure your knees knock together once I’m through with you.”

And maybe it’s not smart to get you naked in the middle of the gym, where anyone walking by could easily peer inside and witness him fucking you into oblivion. But he can’t find it in himself to care—he’s been waiting for this moment for years, and damn him if he doesn’t seize it while you’re like this: open, inviting, presented to him like gourmet food on a silver platter.

And speaking of food…

“I’m gonna stretch you out,” Harry states. “You’ve got to cum first if you wanna take my cock, understand?”

You nod rapidly.

He shakes his head. “Need to hear you say it, baby. You want it, too, right?”

“I want it,” you confirm, breathless. “I want it, I understand.”

He smiles. His fingers ruck up the material of your tank top, and you lift your back from the ground to help him remove it. Your bra is next, pale pink with a simple bow resting between the cups. He swears when you unclip it quickly, letting the straps fall down your shoulders before tossing it away.

“Christ,” he says, blinking. “Can’t believe you’re real.”

He lays you back down onto the floor of the ring, ducking his head and enveloping one of your nipples in his mouth. You moan. The bud hardens between his teeth, sensitive to his touch. He sucks harshly before pulling off, littering kisses along the skin of your breasts. His head swims with lust, transforming him into someone nearly unrecognizable. You seem to like it, though, so how bad could it really be?

“Next time,” Harry murmurs into your flesh, “I’m gonna get a proper taste. Eat you out ’til you go blind. But for now—,” he dips his hand past the waistband of your sweatpants, “—my fingers will just have to do.”

You shimmy your bottoms down, kicking them off unceremoniously and spreading your legs. And fuck, he nearly loses it right there, because this is what he’s been picturing for months, if not years. Having you laid out in front of him, exposed and ready and willing. Your thighs stretched wide, miles of soft skin leading inward and morphing into sticky, wet folds. He closes his eyes for a brief moment and inhales deeply—the scent of your arousal floods his nose, rendering him utterly helpless. Something akin to a man unhinged.

He rubs you over your panties, first. They’re nothing special—simple black cotton covering your mound and your hipbones. But fuck him, he wasn’t expecting the ocean of excitement that seems to have pooled and soaked through the fabric. His fingertips are damp when he pulls them away.

“You’re drenched,” he groans, shaking his head in disbelief. He hooks one digit into the elastic of your underwear, looking up at you with inquisitive eyes. “Can I take these off?”

“Yes, please.”

He tears the material down your legs, and then you’re naked beneath him, save for the rose-gold pendant resting on your sternum. He sits back on his heels as you spread your thighs wider, chewing on the inside of your cheek. His index finger taps the skin just below your navel, tracing a path down to where you need him most. You whine when he bypasses your clit completely, dropping instead to gather some of your wetness before trailing back up. He smears your arousal over the nub—just to get a steady, slippery rhythm going—and then leans down, pressing his forehead against yours.

“Don’t wanna be too far,” he says sheepishly, sweetly kissing the tip of your nose. “Missed you.”

You seal your lips to his.

He makes you cum after a few minutes, slipping one finger into your channel, and then another. The entire time, his thumb stays perched on your clit, drawing expert circles and pulling wanton moans from your mouth. And when you cum—oh.

Oh.

You’re glorious, with lidded eyes and warm cheeks and teeth bared in pleasure. You ride out your high, spasming gently. Harry lays a firm hand on your stomach, feeling the muscles of your abdomen twitch beneath his palm. He continues to stimulate your clit, basking in the little aftershocks that zip up your spine and make your legs tremble.

If you were aroused before…good fucking God. He didn’t know it was possible for a woman to be this wet.

You kiss him as you come down from your orgasm, nipping softly at his bottom lip and sighing in relief. Both of his hands find your face—you seem unbothered by the fact that his fingers are coated in your juices, smearing messily against your cheek. He melts into you like he’s dying of thirst and you’re an oasis, lush and green and good. So, so good.

“Do you—,” he exhales raggedly, “—do you still want to?”

You nod, a soft smile forming on your face. It’s crazy, Harry thinks, how quickly you can oscillate between actual human sunshine and the devil personified. One minute, you’re asking him to fuck you, and the next, you’re giving him those eyes that make him feel as though every cell in his body has been liquefied.

“What were you saying about not being gentle?” you tease.

He chuckles quietly, shaking his head. You gasp when he hooks a finger into the chain around your neck. He takes your pretty pink pendant between two fingers, lifting it up and dragging the cool metal along the seam of your lips. You inhale sharply.

“I don’t have a condom,” he murmurs, sighing mournfully.

“I have an IUD,” you whisper, playing with the curls at the back of his head. “We’re good.”

He groans, dropping his face into the column of your throat. “You’re fuckin’ marvelous.”

You giggle.

He shudders when you begin to push his shorts down. You look up at him with raised brows when his cock slaps against his stomach, completely unrestrained.

“No underwear?”

“Always sticks to my balls when I get sweaty,” he whines, squeezing his eyes shut. “Need to let the boys breathe.”

A loud laugh flops out of your mouth. Harry snickers, too, trailing his nose up over your jawline so that he can catch your lips in a quick kiss. He moans as you wrap your fingers around his length, giving a few experimental pumps. Instinctively, his hips buck into your grip.

“You’re big,” you murmur. “Are you sure that it’s going to fit?”

“It’ll fit,” he promises.

He guides your legs up so that they’re wrapped around his waist, allowing him to slot himself closer to you. You gasp when his hand finds your cunt again, dipping two fingers inside before sweeping his palm over the length of your folds. He then smears your wetness along the shaft of his cock, makeshift lubrication to facilitate the first breach of your channel.

“You ready?” he says, positioning the tip of his dick at your entrance. “Deep breath for me, yeah?”

“Yeah.” You inhale, and he nudges his hips forward. You gasp as he slips into you, inch by thick inch, stretching you out in a way that you’ve never felt before. Harry reaches for your hands, tangling your fingers together and lifting them above your head. You arch your back with the new position, and he’s unsure of whether you’re trying to wiggle away or bring him in closer.

When the heels of your feet press against his ass, guiding him deeper, he assumes that it’s the latter.

“Fuck,” he stammers as your tight heat surrounds his cock. “How—how do you feel this good?”

A wheezing laugh punches its way out of your throat.

“Feel that,” Harry says hoarsely. “So fuckin’ hot and—and wet. Not gonna take any time at all, is it?”

“For me, or for you?” you taunt. He grumbles quietly, and you snicker.

After a brief moment of silence, you squeeze his knuckles reassuringly. “You can move.”

“Thank you,” he moans, capturing your mouth with his. Your breathing hitches as he pulls out before slowly sliding back in. When you sigh in response, he takes it as encouragement to pick up the pace.

Soon, he’s fucking into you quickly, your skin slapping together in a series of brutal thrusts. With each drive of his hips into yours, soft whimpers escape your lips, floating up into the hot air and melting like ice cream under the sun. Harry growls, sinking his teeth into the junction between your neck and your shoulder. The pain makes you writhe—in a good way.

“You don’t know how many times I’ve imagined this,” he grunts, laving his tongue over the indents on your skin. Your necklaces clink together—silver and rose-gold tangled in a mess of thin, delicate chains. “My—my hand could never—”

“Neither could mine,” you tell him, breathless.

His spine stiffens at your words, brain overcome with the thought of you lying in bed, your fingers buried between your legs and low whines pouring from your mouth. He groans; his next thrust is hard, keen, unforgiving.

He keeps you close, your bodies never separating. Your skin is slick with sweat, chests gliding together. Adrenaline rushes through Harry’s veins—he drives ahead, plunging inside of you with each fierce snap of his hips. You can’t do anything but lie there and take it, take it, take it.

“I want you,” he gasps, warm air washing out onto your collarbones. His hands are clammy, still locked with yours; he wouldn’t have it any other way. “I want you, I want you, I—” He gulps. “I’ve wanted you for so long.”

“Harry,” you murmur, grazing your nose against his temple. “Harry, look at me.”

Reluctantly, he pulls his face away from your throat. Your eyes are soft when they land on his, forehead shining with sweat, lips swollen and raw. The bun holding most of your hair back has come loose (Harry is certain that it’s due to the way your bodies shift along the ground with every thrust.)

You swallow roughly and shake your head, staring past his features and searching for something deeper.

“I’m not going anywhere,” you say, nearly crushing his fingers in your grip. “I’m here.”

Your walls pulsate around him, and his rhythm falters. He swears softly, releasing one of your hands so that he can bring his thumb down to rub haphazard shapes against your clit. You moan, surprised.

“Cum for me,” he orders, nodding rapidly. “Cum for me, and then I’ll do the same. Where do you want it, hm? Tell me.”

“Inside,” you pant, your nose screwing up in pleasure. “Cum inside me.”

“Shit, you’re serious?” he asks, awestruck. His stomach twists hotly at your invitation. “Want me to claim your pretty cunt? Is that it?”

“God,” you say. You squirm beneath him, nodding frantically. “Please!”

“Fuck!” he cries, and when you clamp down on his cock, he’s gone.

The two of you ride out your highs together, quivering and grunting in unison. Harry wraps his arms around your waist, holding you close to his chest. You dig your nails into his back, clinging to him like a piece of wood drifting through the stormy sea. Colourful spots dance in his vision—he tries his best to blink them away. Your thighs tremble around his hips, caught in an endless cycle of vibrations.

“Holy shit,” you whimper, exhaling shakily. “That was…”

Harry braces himself over your face, keeping you shielded from everything outside of your little bubble.

“Yeah,” he agrees.

A low laugh falls from your lips, but it quickly morphs into a moan when he pulls out of you. He pauses for a moment, watching as white liquid trickles from your abused entrance. The erotic sight nearly has him ready to go again.

“Fuck,” he mutters. He scoops his release up with two fingers and plugs them back inside of you. “That’s hot.”

You gasp at the slight overstimulation, wrapping a hand around his wrist reflexively. He just shoots you a wicked grin, which has you giggling girlishly in response.

“I want a kiss,” you say, craning your neck.

Harry hums, crawling up your body to fulfill your request. You smile against his lips, tossing your arms over his shoulders. The two of you exchange soft pecks for the next few minutes, basking in the aftereffects of your orgasms. Warmth unfurls in Harry’s chest, potent and contagious. It spreads through his veins, dousing his senses in a golden glow.

“You’re fucking incredible,” he tells you, nuzzling his nose against your cheek. “And I like you. So much.”

“I like you, too,” you reply, tracing your fingertips over the muscles in his back. “But if you ever lie to me again—” Your expression grows serious. “—let’s just say that you won’t have to worry anymore about your boxers sticking to your balls, okay?”

It’s an earnest threat—he knows that you mean every word—but nevertheless, it makes him laugh. You giggle along with him; he rolls off of you, his spine meeting the floor of the ring, and you cuddle into his side. Your nails tap languidly against his sternum as he wraps an arm around your shoulders. The two of you lie there for a few long moments, enjoying the peaceful silence.

“They’re taking my case against James to trial,” you say at last.

Harry stiffens, lifting his head so that he can look down at you properly.

“That’s a good thing, isn’t it?” he asks.

“Yeah.” You nod, refusing to meet his gaze. “But, um…my lawyer said that it might be a good idea to bring a witness to the stand. Just to seal the deal and stuff.”

You peek up at him shyly, and it clicks.

“Oh,” he says softly. “You want me?”

“Only if you’re comfortable with it,” you say hurriedly, resting your chin on his chest. “Please don’t think that I’m forcing you—”

“Hey, no,” he cuts you off, sweeping his fingers through your hair. The action soothes you, makes your eyelids flutter shut and your lips tremble with a nervous exhale. “’Course I’ll testify. I don’t want that piece of shit coming anywhere near you.”

“Thank you,” you murmur, pressing your mouth to his skin. You litter a few grateful kisses along his pectorals, and he smiles. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

“Don’t have to keep saying that,” Harry mumbles, chuckling tenderly. He takes your face between his hands, thumbs trailing idly over your temples. “I wanna keep you safe. Or—or make you feel safe, at least.”

Your eyes glisten.

“I do feel safe around you,” you say. Your lips twitch. “Except for when you’re trying to punch me in the gut.”

He snickers, shaking his head. “If you want to start tussling with me more often, you’re gonna have to get used to that.”

“Duly noted.” You smirk.

Harry sighs, letting his head fall back against the ground.

“Speaking of keeping you safe…,” he mutters, staring up at the ceiling. His fingers resume their previous ministrations, stroking languidly through your hair. “You should go pee, yeah? Heard it’s important for girls to do that after sex.”

You laugh, surprised by his words. “How—how do you know that?”

“Sister,” he reminds you. His cheeks dimple as he grins.

You nod, mouth curling into a fond smile. “Right.”

April 26, 2021

The crowd is deafening, encasing him in a cloud of noise. He refuses to let it distract him, zeroing in on his opponent with the intensity of a thousand suns. An experimental jab comes his way, gauging the distance between them, but Harry sidesteps it easily. He retaliates with a right hook, catching the side of the man’s head. It’s not a powerful blow, but it succeeds in disorienting him for a few milliseconds.

He charges forward, then, sensing an opportunity and seizing it before it can fade away. In a flurry of fists (and the odd kick here and there), he backs his opponent up until the ropes around the ring are digging into the man’s waist. He’s ruthless, giving him no chance to react, delivering blow after blow until his rival can barely stand on his own two feet. At that point, he retreats, stepping back and letting his victory come to him.

He needs this win. He needs this win. He needs this—

His challenger falls into the trap, stumbling forward with double vision and throwing a sloppy hook. Harry bats his hand away effortlessly, lunging forward and curving his arm up. Pride flares in his chest when his fist makes contact with his opponent’s jaw, making the man’s head snap back on his neck. He drops to the floor in an unconscious, muscular heap.

The seconds pass by like molasses, but at last, the referee is climbing into the ring and lifting Harry’s hand high above his head. The crowd roars. He closes his eyes for a moment, basking in the praise. When they flutter open again, they’re trailing upward, searching for one particular face in a sea of strangers.

And there you are.

You’re beaming, clapping frantically and pausing every so often to cup your hands around your mouth and amplify your cheers. Harry smiles, tilting his chin upward and letting his head fall back in relief. He doesn’t tear his gaze away from you, even as the referee releases his wrist and crouches to rouse his opponent from the ground.

He hears someone call his name and turns to the side. He finds your father peeking at him through the ropes circling the ring, a wide grin on his face. He beckons him over, a water bottle clutched tightly in his outstretched hand. Harry complies, breathing out a heavy sigh.

Meanwhile, you’re pushing through the throng of people that have now started moving toward the exit. Going against the current is difficult—you murmur quick apologies as you nudge past countless shoulders and elbows—but finally, you emerge from the crowd, unscathed. You see Harry chatting with a few people approximately thirty feet away, but before you can take another step, a big, burly security guard blocks your path.

“No spectators beyond this point,” he tells you gruffly.

“But, I—,” your mouth opens and closes, though no words come out. Instinctively, you point over the guard’s shoulder, your finger pinned on a very sweaty, very shirtless Harry. “That’s my boyfriend.”

You only have a moment to feel shocked by your claim. Boyfriend?

It’s been weeks since that night at the gym, and yeah, you suppose that the two of you are a thing, now. You’re going out. You’re exclusive. Whatever the hell you want to call it.

But you’ve never referred to him as your boyfriend, and he’s never referred to you as his girlfriend. You haven’t talked about potentially putting a label on your relationship, despite the fact that you’re both clearly interested in seeing each other and no one else.

Is it time to have that conversation?

Harry jumps in surprise when he hears you call his name. He turns toward the sound and then grunts when you barrel into him a moment later, wrapping your arms around his neck and your legs around his waist. One of his hands reflexively falls to your bottom before quickly moving away. The feeling of his calloused palm on your ass sends a shiver down your spine.

You bury your face in his shoulder. He’s sweating all over, skin wet and muscles bulging from exertion. You know that you’ve caught him off-guard, because he whispers your name incredulously into your ear and presses a gentle kiss to your jaw. When he finally sets you down, you peer up at him with bright eyes and a large grin.

“That was incredible,” you gush, your hands falling to his biceps. “You obliterated him!”

“Thanks,” he chuckles. His cheeks are pink—you don’t think it’s because of the match.

In the periphery of your vision, you catch sight of your father. He’s standing there with raised brows and parted lips, and you suddenly remember that he hasn’t yet been made aware of your…situation. You gasp, stepping away from Harry quickly and draping your arms around your own torso. He seems to recognize your blunder as well, because his shoulders tense and his eyes nearly pop out of his head.

The two of you speak at the same time.

“Coach—”

“Dad—”

“I don’t want to know,” your father announces, holding up one hand and cutting you both off swiftly. His eyes bounce back and forth between you, features betraying no emotion whatsoever. Finally, his shoulders slump.

“I’m gonna call it a night, gioia,” he tells you. He then looks to the left, directing his next words at Harry. “Congratulations on your win, H. Have her home by midnight.”

“Dad, I’m a grown woman—,” you begin to scoff, but he gives you a pointed glare.

“Midnight,” he repeats.

You shrink away and nod.

~*~

Before leaving, Harry decides to take a quick shower in the men’s locker room. You sit on one of the benches, tapping your foot against the tiles as you watch him get undressed. It doesn’t take him long—he’s only wearing a pair of shorts, after all—but you savour every moment, your eyes raking over his muscular back as he bends down to pick his bottoms up off of the ground. He tosses the fabric into his drawstring bag before peering over his shoulder at you.

“Sure you don’t wanna join me?” he asks, a coy smirk playing on his lips when he catches you staring.

You look away quickly, picking at your nails and feigning indifference. “Where anyone could walk in? I’m good.”

He shrugs, snickering quietly. “Suit yourself.”

You ogle his plump ass as he walks away.

A moment later, one of the showers turns on. You can hear Harry humming softly as he steps under the spray. You sigh, leaning back against the wall and fishing your phone out from your pocket. For the next few minutes, you scroll distractedly through social media, bored out of your mind.

You grunt softly and set your phone down, tiptoeing over to the door of the locker room and fastening it shut. The lock above the handle slides into place with a low click!

“Fuck it,” you mutter.

You flick open the button of your jeans, shoving the material down your thighs. Eventually, you’re naked, goosebumps pebbling on your arms. You set your clothes back down onto the bench and grab a spare towel, fiddling with the necklace hanging from your throat. A thought occurs to you; you unclasp the chain, pulling it off and letting it pool in the palm of your hand.

Harry’s idle singing grows louder as you approach the row of showers. It’s not hard to find his cubicle—it’s the only one with the curtain drawn over the entrance. You pad toward it, hanging your towel next to his and calling out, “Harry?”

“Yeah?” His hums stop.

You grasp the fabric of the curtain, pulling it back and peering inside. Immediately, Harry’s gaze locks with yours. He’s completely bare, standing beneath the water with hooded eyes and shampoo foaming in his hair. You slip into the cubicle, not missing the way he gawks at your naked body.

“I changed my mind,” you murmur, peering up at him shyly.

He presses his lips together to fight back a smile. “Yeah. You sure did.”

“Shut up and let me rinse your hair.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Before you can bury your hands into the wet strands, however, you remember the jewellery clutched between your fingers.

“Actually—,” you say, hesitating. “I, um—I wanted to give this to you.”

You scoop the necklace up from your palm, holding it out nervously. Harry recognizes it immediately, and his eyes widen in surprise.

“What for?” he asks, not unkindly.

“It’s my lucky charm,” you tell him, shrugging your shoulders. “I just figured…maybe it’ll work for you, too.”

He kisses you, then, grabbing your face in his hands and crushing his lips to yours. You whimper into his mouth, finding his wrists and encasing them in a tight grip. The kiss is passionate, bruising, fiery—you’ve never felt so wanted.

Harry pulls back once the two of you run out of air. Even then, he keeps his forehead pressed snugly against yours, staying close. He’s breathing heavily, and you’re starting to sweat, the humidity of the stall seeping into every last pore on your body. Harry shakes his head, gazing into your eyes.

“You’re my lucky charm,” he says.

Your heartbeat stutters in your chest.

“But,” he continues, smiling softly, “I’ll take the necklace. It’ll be good to have for when you’re not there.”

You nod wordlessly, and he steps back. His hands find his throat, fumbling with the chain dangling over his collarbones. He reaches over his shoulders, unclasping his own necklace and presenting it to you.

“Here,” he says. “I’ll take yours, and you take mine.”

You nod again.

You turn around slowly, electricity thrumming through your body as Harry guides the silver chain around your neck. The shiny cross pendant rests against your sternum; the warmth of the metal seeps into your skin. When you face him again, Harry whistles lowly, his lips twitching.

“Looks good on you,” he says, nodding proudly. “My girl.”

“Is that what I am?” you ask, peeking up at him through your lashes. “Your girl?”

He pauses. He really does look ridiculous with the white, frothing shampoo slicked through his hair.

“Is that what you want to be?”

A moment of silence ensues.

“Yeah,” you finally say, biting your bottom lip. “It is.”

Harry smiles. He leans forward and kisses you again, softer this time. You nudge his shoulder with the hand that’s still holding your necklace, prompting him to spin around.

“Come on,” you murmur, delivering one last affectionate peck to his mouth. “Your turn.”

~*~

Harry pulls up to your house fifteen minutes before midnight. You unbuckle your seatbelt, modifying your position in the front seat so that you can look at him properly. Your hair is still slightly damp from your shared shower, and your skin is fresh and clean. You smell like him—like the body wash you had both used to scrub yourselves down in the small cubicle. A silver necklace—his necklace—peeks out from beneath the collar of your denim jacket.

The jewellery suits you. He doesn’t ever want you to take it off.

The two of you stare at each other for a moment until you eventually crack a smile.

“You look like you want to eat me,” you say, laughing.

“C’mere, then,” he chuckles, already leaning forward. “Lemme have a taste.”

“Gross.” You stick your tongue out playfully but obey him nonetheless, your lips meeting over the middle console of the vehicle. Harry cups your face in one hand, keeping you close. You sigh into his mouth, and he swallows the sound down—it’s the prettiest fucking thing he’s ever heard.

You carry on like that for the next few minutes, exchanging soft kisses that don’t go beyond him placing a calloused palm on your thigh. When you finally pull away, a breathless giggle bubbles up in your throat.

“Have I ever told you that you’re a great kisser?” you ask.

“Only a dozen times a day,” he replies, smirking gently.

You laugh, carding your fingers through his hair and tilting your head to the side as you stare at him. Your eyes are far away, getting lost in your own thoughts, it seems.

“What is it?” he whispers, even though there’s no one else in the car aside from you and him.

“I love you,” you murmur absentmindedly.

Harry freezes; your confession knocks the air from his lungs.

“What?” he says, his brows knitting together.

At last, you snap out of your trance. Your admission sinks in, and you recoil, shocked at your own boldness.

“I—,” you start, your eyes growing impossibly wide. “I just meant—we’ve known each other for years, now, but I feel like I really got to know you these past few months. These past few weeks, especially.”

You shrug, playing nervously with the silver cross hanging around your neck. Harry’s heart somersaults at the sight.

“I’m sorry if it’s bad timing,” you continue; you’re rambling, now. “And I understand that it might be weird considering the fact that we just put a label on this, but—,” you break off, taking a deep breath, “—I love you. I do.”

He reaches out, trailing his fingers over the faint curve of your jaw. You gasp softly when his thumb ghosts over your bottom lip.

“Did you just apologise for telling me that you love me?” he says. Crinkles appear at the corners of his eyes.

You squeeze your own eyes shut, cringing at his words and shaking your head.

“Don’t repeat it,” you plead. “I’m already embarrassed enough.”

“Oh, so loving me is embarrassing?” he asks, smirking slyly.

You frown, batting his hand away and shifting your body so that you’re no longer facing him. You place your elbow against the ledge of the passenger door, resting your chin on your fist and staring pointedly out the window.

“Hey,” Harry coos, though he can’t stop the inkling of laughter that seeps into his voice. “Don’t be like that.”

“I take it back,” you say flatly, refusing to turn around. “I hate you, actually.”

“Really,” he says, but it’s not a question. He unbuckles his own seatbelt so that he can lean over the middle console and nuzzle at your cheek.

“My girlfriend hates me?” he asks; he knows that he’s being insufferable, but he can’t help it. Messing with you is so much fun.

“Yes.” Your response is curt. “She does.”

“That’s not nice,” he says, curling his lips down into a dramatic pout. He presses a gentle kiss to the side of your neck—right against a particular spot that makes you melt every single time. He knows it, and so do you.

“That’s not nice at all,” Harry continues, littering sloppy pecks down the column of your throat. “This how you treat the man who loves you?”

You pause when his words register in your brain.

“Stop lying,” you mutter, keeping your gaze glued to the scenery outside your window.

“’M not lying,” he tells you, squeezing your thigh gently. “Said you’d cut my balls off if I did it again, remember?”

And despite your initial sense of humiliation, you laugh. Harry smiles, placing his free hand on your cheek and guiding you to look over at him. You submit to his wishes, gazing at him through pretty, wispy lashes. He tilts forward ever-so-slightly, nudging your noses together and fastening his lips to yours. When he pulls back after a moment, he pinches your chin between two fingers.

“I love you,” he says earnestly.

“I love you, too,” you whisper.

Your eyelids flutter shut as he slides his palm up your leg; he stops only once it’s resting in the crease between your hip and your thigh, dangerously close to your groin.

“We have—,” he cranes his neck, peering over at the digital clock on the truck’s dashboard, “—five minutes until you have to be inside. Think I can make you cum between now and then?”

You scoff, pushing him away and laughing at his crudeness.

“You’re insane,” you giggle, shooting him a faux-stern glare. “Behave.”

“Fine,” he grumbles, frowning childishly. You just grin, slipping your hand around his neck and pulling him in for a doting kiss. You press a series of rapid pecks along the seam of his mouth, nipping playfully at his bottom lip before retreating. Instinctively, he follows you, but you dig your fingers into his shoulder, stopping him before he can get too far.

“Goodnight,” you whisper, reaching for the handle on the door.

Harry watches with wide, awestruck eyes as you exit the car. You clutch your purse closer to your side, looking back at him expectantly and waiting for his response.

He clears his throat, blinking out of his reverie.

“Yeah,” he nods, nostrils flaring slightly. “Goodnight.”

He peels away from your house only once you disappear through the front door. Subconsciously, his hand finds the rose-gold chain hanging around his throat. He fiddles with the necklace, running his thumb over the smooth surface of your shiny pendant. There’s something unreal—almost dreamlike—about having it between his fingers. He’s spent so long watching you fumble and toy with it—watching it bring you comfort when you’re nervous, or bored, or afraid.

Now, it’s his.

And so are you.

Faint music plays from the truck’s stereo; Harry reaches forward, twisting a knob and turning the volume up to its full capacity. Ariana Grande’s familiar vocal riffs pour through the speakers.

He sings along at the top of his lungs, hollering triumphantly the entire ride home.

~*~

Extra: Knockout [READ IT NOW ON PATREON]

if you enjoyed this series, please consider donating to my ko-fi! thank you bunches <3

#harry styles smut #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles one shot #oh my god i can't believe this is the last part aaaaaaaaaa #i really hope u all like it!#boxrry #harry writing

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eyerealm · 2 years ago

Note

Hiii^_^ what would you say are your main artistic influences/inspirations ?

VERY obvious answer but jojo and splatoon. In general. I am so happy i got into jojo because i never expected to but its like an infinite source of inspiration to me and my biggest inspiration now. Arakis art is absolutely incredible its like everything i love. the patterns and fashion, the variety in color palettes, i also LOVE group pictures, the poses, treating characters as models, the soul in each piece, the ornamentation(!) The unconventional character designs , the ATTRIBUTES (i am so fascinated by character attributes. I have always tried to think what attributes my characters could have.) High accuracy in items, which really makes you feel like theyre real...i really could go on. I really cant express it enough. I can never get enough of it. I havent even seen all parts yet and each time i do i literally cant wait to look at every picture that exists of it. It all feels like. So REAL. its like the most real art ever idk how to even explain it better. And I feel like with jojo everythings possible and i absolutely love it... and splatoon is also very inspiring to me. Ive started really enjoying sport-esque fashion because of it. it influenced me a lot especially in how i use color, it made me very confident in the way i choose them, even if it sometimes feels random. I love using vivid colors. Also i absolutely love splatoon stage designs. Story modes especially. But the amount of details in them, graffiti and stickers makes them feel so lived in. I really love street art and splatoon made me appreciate it more. I love designs of the gear and weapons, the accuracy when theyre drawn in official art too ...i think i started wanting to draw more accurate cuz of it. i just love it so much i would not be where i am without it. I own the splatoon 2 art book and i cant wait untill the third parts one comes out ... other than that, lately ive been very inspired by like early 2010s jojo fanart from pixiv lol. Ive been lookin at a lot of them reposted on tumblr mass reblogging and saving to my phone even despite me having literally no storage space cuz i just cant resist. i really like them. I would love to try to emulate the feeling of these. Its not very specific sorry but i think some ppl would understand. anyways thanks for the ask :)

#ask

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keilemlucent · 4 years ago

Text

lavender latte: viii

(M (for now!)

hawks | takami keigo x reader

ao3

chapter 1 || chapter 2 || chapter 3 || chapter 4 || chapter 5 || chapter 6 || chapter 7 || chapter 9 ||

masterlist

word count: ~4.7k

realities, huh.

warnings: descriptions of blood and bodily injury, post-traumatic symptoms, panic/anxiety attacks

----

oof. wow. here it is, part one of the BIG boy chapter. please mind the warnings on this one!! trauma and post-traumatic symptoms are a big theme in this chapter and the next.

as an author, these have been some of the harder, more vulnerable chapters to create and i hope that the writing shows this :’’’^) all that said, enjoy :’^)

|||||||||||||||

Keigo was fucked up.

Or he had fucked up.

It was hard to tell the specifics of his predicament, considering how hard he’d hit his head.

‘Hawks’ was known for his speed, his skill, and his ability to finish fights off before they even had a chance to truly start. He prided himself on his prowess, the product of his own diligence and meticulous training. Normally, Keigo kept to these high standards without fail and with faltering.

On the rare occasion he did get injured, it was usually simple scrapes or bruises.

Except, sometimes time, his shortcomings created much more than scratches.

His left arm was twisted the wrong way, wrenched from its socket. His skull ached, hair sticking to the back of his neck and cold.

Keigo blinked slowly, vision tilting and blurry against the asphalt he’d crashed onto. He’d sent his feathers to finish off what was left of the fight, knowing that he was, bodily, down for the count.

It hadn’t started as a large fight, notably. It shouldn’t have gotten so bad. The first alert he’d received just made it seem like petty burglary. Quickly after arriving on the scene, it escalated into an entire firefight spanning several blocks.

He’d been one of the first heroes there, naturally. It wasn’t hard to disarm and pin most of the villains down, but quickly, things got out of hand. Figures forming from the afternoon’s shadows, quickly turning the simple de-escalation into an all-out brawl.

Keigo pushed himself from the filthy ground, coughing up spittle and blood on the blacktop below. It wasn’t from an internal injury, he knew, just a bitten tongue and cheek that made the drippings of his mouth pink and cloudy.

He sat up, forcing himself to his feet as more heroes arrived, finishing the job out of sheer numbers. Mentally, he cursed his mistakes and his stupor. The media circus and bureaucratic bullshit he was undoubtedly going to have to deal with made him audibly groan. Keigo could handle pain without question, but his least favorite parts of his job were the nuts and bolts of it all.

Maybe it was the head trauma or the fact he’d just gotten sloppy lately, but Keigo didn’t even notice the oddly large amount of shattered glass at the scene or the shadows that loomed and weaved without rest nearby, though they never moved to the offensive.

...

You sat on your couch, boot propped up (as usual), and a pillow hugged in your arms.

Typically, you weren’t one to watch the news, but the moment you’d seen the alert from your phone about ‘large scale villain attack- Hawks and Miruko on the scene!, you’d rushed to turn on any channel that had coverage.

Which, creating a sense of dread in your gut, was most of them.

You watched the varying camera angles of the fight, squeezing the pillow tightly in your arms like the pressure would comfort you.

The fear and terror was such a contrast to the absolute bliss of the first couple of weeks of you and Keigo’s relationship.

During that time, your text-based communication hardly changed, still ambiently throughout the day and including the exchange of many memes and well-placed photographs and selfies.

The messages had changed, somewhat, truth be told. There was a sweetness to it, soft, warm, and new. The bantering never stopped, but woven within each of your words were small, tender lines that were new to you both.

Wonderfully new.

You found that Keigo was particularly affectionate over text, but it was nothing compared to him in-person.

You hadn’t really expected him to be clingy. Not based on the way he texted and talked previously and how he was generally portrayed by the public.

But god, was he.

He came over several other nights, always bearing food, drinks, and a bright smile. He wouldn’t even think of settling for the evening in the comfort of your couch (or bed) until you’d been showered in kisses and teasing touches, always seeming hungry, maybe even starved.

He was careful, however, to never go too far or touch too much.

When you two would finally settle on the couch, usually finding yourself strewn over each other in some way, Keigo would continue heaping on affection in any way he could, subtle or otherwise. You returned the gestures, giving your own too.

You craved the heat of his body in the same way he hungered for yours.

You found that, as the nights would wear on, he tended to slip his rough hands under any top you might be wearing, settling his grip on your sides or back. He’d either press and massage, or just ambiently draw shapes. At first, you thought it was some sort of sexual preamble, expecting his touch to drift higher and hungrier.

It took you a night or two of it to realize it wasn’t like that at all—

Keigo just craved contact.

It all made sense, though your revelation surprised you a bi at first.

One night, with his head in your lap, you had simply hummed out, “I never thought you’d be touch-starved.”

Keigo hummed as you ran your nails around the shell of his ear, “Mind elaborating on that one?”

“You’re always touching me when we’re together,” You replied simply, heart squeezing at the little twinges of anxiety you could see forming around Keigo’s eyes. “Not that it's a bad thing— I really love all of it, it’s just sweet. I didn’t think you’d be so affectionate and touchy. I would dare to say, it's cute.”

That comment turned Keigo’s cheeks bright red, though you hardly got much of a chance to tease him about it before he was on you with another wave of soft kisses and squeezes.

Maybe, you were a little touch-starved yourself.

And definitely, surely, falling into each other simply and sweetly felt like heaven.

...

But all of that syrupy goodness was gone, the flavor of it stale and rotten.

All you could focus on was your TV screen as Hawks was being pulled from an alleyway. The camera angle was poor, the quality shaky, but the picture was clear as day to you.

Keigo was walking, barely, most of his weight bared into Miruko’s side. He looked half-dead when he first emerged, limbs twisted painfully and face downcast.

He brightened up a moment later. You weren’t even sure that anyone would’ve caught the change in his expression if they didn’t know him as intimately as you did.

Your chest tightened painfully when he gave his most dashing smile, pearly white teeth stained with blood that was rushing from a wide cut on his forehead. The juxtaposition of him being purely fucked up mixed with the shining expressions he was flashing at the media made your stomach churn with dread.

He’s hurt.

And it seems bad.

You chewed your bottom lip until it ached.

The newscast kept playing, showing the wreckage of the scene, all of the hurt civilians— it was a few cities over, but you swore you could hear the sirens just outside of your window.

You dug around for your phone, typing out a message to Keigo, fingers shaking as you did.

[you]: hey i saw about the attack? how are you doing?

Texting him was the bare minimum, wasn’t it? If you could, you’d call. But based on the way he was reported to have been taken to a nearby hospital, he wouldn’t be answering his phone any time soon.

It didn’t feel like enough, but what more could you do?

You felt uncomfortably powerless.

A very lucid, perhaps cruel part of your mind rang out amid your quiet panic:

Get used to it.

You fell back into the cushions, unable to turn off the screen, though unable to do anything other than watch and churn.

|||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||

Keigo didn’t have a great recollection of the day's events after sustaining his fairly significant head injury, not to mention the shattering of the bones in his right arm and a few in his left leg. Not to mention his sorely dislocated shoulder.

Pain blotted things out memory, he knew.

Hospital trips were few and far between for Keigo, but in the unfortunate circumstance he was stuck and strung up with wires and IV tubes, he was more than well taken care of.

He was aware, somewhat, of the Commission’s hold on the scruff of his neck, though complacent in it. His good attitude and impeccable, nearly-perfect performance earned him the best medical care they could provide.

Some sweet girl, a student from the west, was brought in to heal his wounds. Healing quirks of any significance were rare, so it was always interesting to see how they worked and manifested.

The girl’s quirk came at the price of any energy his body had, but he was completely patched up in a number of minutes. Fatigue be damned, he was happy to be quickly and easily put back together. He made sure to put on his best camera-ready smile as the girl traced symbols on the backs of his hands, fingers shaking and shyly smiling.

She was probably starstruck, all things considered. Meanwhile, Keigo was exhausted and out of it.

All through it, all of it, the actual fight and subsequent medical nightmare, he had slipped into a far different mindset than the one he’d been occupying for the last couple of weeks.

Consequently, he hadn’t thought of you at all.

You didn’t even cross his mind.

Keigo could’ve blamed it on hitting his head, but that wouldn’t be entirely fair or truthful.

All the same, the absence would burn later.

...

Keigo flashed a dopey smile to the door of his hospital room when he spotted a familiar puff of bright yellow hair.

Despite his stupor, familiarity still resonated. Besides, his PA stuck out like a sore thumb amongst the greyscale scrubs and antiseptic.

“Akane! I knew you’d never be far in my time of need,” Keigo relaxed against the hospital bed he was still resigned to. He was to be discharged as soon as possible for the bevy of press reports he would had to complete. Not to mention the mountains of paperwork he’d probably have to file and sign.

Akane kept a stern but humored expression as she shooed a nurse out of Keigo’s room. She was shorter than most, face cut with sharp angles and high ridges. They were dressed immaculately as always, a well-tailored black suit with crisp-looking dress shoes. All professionalism, trained and honed by the Commission in a similar way to Keigo, though it was implicitly recognized.

“You’ve got a press conference in thirty with Miruko,” Akane didn’t answer his greeting, though Keigo could tell by their quick nod that it was at least acknowledged. They rolled a small suitcase next to the bed. “Extra hero costume in there. I called your normal hair and makeup, they’ll be in a few minutes after I leave. It’s been a while since you’ve been this injured in a fight, so put on a good show for everyone, won’t you?”

Akane’s sarcasm always brought a smile to his face, contrasting so starkly with their well-pressed hems and seams.

Keigo quickly sat up, dropping his feet to the cold linoleum below, “Always a show.”

He quickly began to re-robe into his new garments, tired mind returning to its trained roots.

||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||

You had been watching the newscast for hours, probably (definitely) against your best interest.

You’d have plenty of time to kick yourself for it later.

You couldn’t stop watching the repetitive footage and bland media, despite the report that ‘Hawks’ was safe, well and receiving treatment.

Until you saw him, you couldn’t rest—- Or that’s what it felt like, anyway.

The image of him bloodied felt painfully etched into the forefront of your mind. The contours and highlights of Keigo’s wounds were uncomfortably bright and hot, nestled next to swirling images of your own. Uncomfortably vivid sensations and colors of your own stitched-up wounds that once wept blood themselves.

If you steeped in it all too deeply or for too long, your breathing would quicken, memories unbridled in the way they sucked down.

Sweat dripping down your brow, you willed your breath even and slowly despite how you definitely were having trouble handling what you were experiencing.

As the evening wore into night, you remained wired.

You convinced yourself, despite the thorns that ran deep, you would be able to rest once you saw Keigo well.

Eventually, there was an announcement for a late press conference, a conclusion to the media frenzy.

You knew you’d stay up for it, no matter how long it took to air. You knew he was fine, it had been confirmed over and over throughout the coverage, but it wasn’t enough.

You just need to see him.

Then you’ll be fine.

Keigo is fine.

No amount of reassurance comforted you. You were sinking too deeply in your throes, ungrounded and crackling within your own fragile mind.

The memories of blood and gore and hot, white fear rolled over you, suffocatingly close to how you’d felt less than a month prior.

On the cold cement floor of the tea shop, you had Keigo’s feather, the knowingness that he would be there.

Yet, now?

You were alone in your dim apartment.

No Keigo.

No villains.

Just you and your skull.

You had to pull yourself back when you felt your quirk begin to activate with your adrenaline, thankful for the low stimulation of your apartment, and the pillow in your arms being exchanged for the plushie Keigo had gifted you. You forced yourself to ground, counting your breaths, and holding yourself together.

(Maybe the trauma of your own run-in was deeper than you wanted to acknowledge.)

You pushed the thought aside as the live footage of the press conference began. It was better to compartmentalize it all, wasn’t it? Why not shove it back where it was easier to not deal with? You’d get a therapist or something.

If Keigo is okay, you’ll be okay.

The press conference decor was coated with the diamond insignia of the Public Safety Hero Commission, along with a few sponsors and nearby police departments. Local heroes and police officers sat around microphones with plastic waterbottles, ringing around the focal points of the events:

Keigo and Miruko.

Seeing him, perfectly in uniform and switched-on didn’t make you feel better.

If anything, it made you feel worse.

Before everything, when he was just your regular you pined after, you saw and heard of him doing heroic duties all the time.

But, it was different when Keigo was your partner, yet living an entirely different reality from yours. In the safety of your apartment, and formerly the teashop, that line of difference was somewhat blurred, or, it at least appeared to be.

But while Keigo was shiny and dazzling, charismatic and blunt as ever on the stage of the conference, the contrast turned polar.

As there was a jeer of laughter, Keigo grinning as Miruko clapped a hand on his back, your stomach rolled.

Seeing him fine and good-as-new wasn’t soothing.

It was like pouring moonshine on a brush fire.

Every moment of the conference highlighted the separation between the two of you, the feeling of fear and now loss so strongly in your mind, it started to taste like the tannin of a rotten wine .

The concoction was made even viler as the memories of injuries didn’t fade or falter.

Your chest ached.

The press conference droned on in front of you, but none of the content of it registered. It was all sickly background noise to your own pains

You pressed the plushie against your stomach, ignoring the phantom stabs of rancid-yellow that traced up your leg from your booted foot.

...

“From what we can surmise, there’s activity of several different villain groups in this area that are connected. This incident is related.”

...

You were getting to yourself, you had been all evening. The problem was you couldn’t climb out—

Not if you weren’t honest and self-aware.

Too bad you were actively spiraling away from anything even close to the latter and former.

...

“There is much we don’t know at this time, but it is clear there must be further investigation into the roots of the attack.”

...

You recognized, even then, that Keigo was going to be in harm's way because of his job, constantly. He was always in danger.

It just felt different, having to see it play out in front of you, isolated from him in all ways except the glimmer he showed the cameras and the gore he bore prior.

The absences burned.

Your gaze moved to your phone, the device still dormant.

With a thick, sticky swallow, you resigned yourself to sitting back into the cushions of your couch, spiraling and numbing as you had been hours.

|||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||

Following the press conference, Keigo had one priority—

Sleep.

Despite Akane’s nagging that they ‘really needed to talk to him’, Keigo was exhausted after being healed and wanted nothing more than to go home and rest for as long as he could make himself lay still.

Maybe, he could’ve handled a patrol (if he had had anything significant of his wings left), but he could not stand the idea of dealing with bureaucratic bullshit in his wrung-out state.

At this admission, Akane sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose.

“Fine, but you need to come to the office as soon as possible,” Akane seemed exasperated after such a long evening (now night), of dealing with the attack. “Seriously, or your publicist is going to kick both of our asses.”

Keigo didn’t ponder too far into the topic of whatever Akane needed him for. Far too mentally wiped-out to bother with what was undoubtedly bureaucratic bullshit.

He rolled his eyes, sending a feather forward to trigger the automatic doors ahead, “I’ll be sure to come in— It’s not like I don’t have a backlog of paperwork to finish.”

“That too,” Akane sighed, pausing outside of the doors, just dimly lit under the lip of the entrance of the building. “Feel better, quick. And please, stay safe.”

Keigo raised an eyebrow, “You know I always am. I’ll see you around tomorrow, bright and early.”

Keigo flew away so quickly, he didn't notice Akane’s pinched expression and set jaw and she waved goodbye.

...

Nearly featherless and on the edge of total exhaustion, Keigo dragged himself back to his penthouse. His mind and body ached, his thoughts messy and disorganized.

It wasn’t an entirely unfamiliar state, though he didn’t get to it often.

He had ample training to not get like this. The fuzziness he was clouded by should’ve been tossed aside easily; he blamed his own overcast on the healing he received.

(And, not that he, perhaps, had more on his mind as of late)

More on his mind meant more to forget.

It wasn’t until he toweled off from a quick shower that he even looked at his phone.

It wasn’t until he saw your single text that you even came to his mind.

Keigo called you nearly instantly, jaw going tight.

It made sense that he’d forget, he rationalized.

The portion of his psyche that was trained to be a hero was the same part that struggled the most with his feelings for you. All of the affection, validation, and deep admiration (and perhaps more) was slowly but surely allowing long-dormant parts of him to awaken—

Yet, all of the new roots and growth aside, he’d forgotten about you in the chaos of the day.

Maybe a passing, subconscious twinge in his gut, but otherwise? Nothing.

A bit of guilt chewed him as the line began to ring.

You laid across your couch, curled up with the plushie in your arms. The news reports played like white noise, your mind long having gone to gum and static. You alternated between different horrors of memory and sensation.

The buzzing and shrill sound of your ringtone made your jump, pulling you from your stupor.

[birdboy <3] calling...

You immediately picked up the call.

“Keigo?” You asked, trying to ignore the continual light shaking of your hands.

“Hey, dove,” His voice was cool and calm. “Sorry, I just saw your message now. I figure you saw all the news, but I’m all good, no worries! How are you?”

Oh.

Was it that easy?

The gears in your skull turned far slower than you wanted them to.

He’s fine, (Y/N).

He’s so unbothered.

Everything is fine.

You tried to comfort yourself, taking a few methodical breaths.

“Dove? Are you there?”

Get your shit together.

“Yeah, I am.” You shook your head. “I was worried, that’s all. My bad. I’m glad you’re okay.”

“The news really plays things up, huh?” Keigo laughed with a sigh, scratchy from the speaker. “Sorry about the media circus. They like the drama.”

“Uh-huh.” You replied, feeling yourself begin to spin all over again.

Drama.

Dramatics.

...

Calm down.

It wasn’t that simple.

“Hey, dove, are you alright?” Keigo spoke casually from the line. Maybe there was some concern in his tone (or you just wanted there to be). You couldn’t fully tell.

You sank back into the couch, bending your good leg into your chest, “I was just worried, is all. I freaked myself out.”

“I’m sorry about that, angel,” Keigo clicked from the phone. “I don’t get banged up too often. Besides, they always stitch me back together quickly! It’s just like this sometimes.”

“‘It’s just like this sometimes’,” You repeat mechanically, processing so slowly it was painful. Your voice sounded far off—

You felt like you were drowning.

Why couldn’t you handle seeing him hurt?

It’s part of his job.

Why does this all feel so bad?

“Can you come over?” You asked, praying that he’d say yes, and maybe, maybe, you could have your fears be assuaged with some contact. Some support—

“Sorry, dove, the healer they got for me really drained me,” Keigo yawned from the other side of the line. “I think I’m gonna hit the hay. But, tomorrow is just an office day for me, so I can come by after?”

Your heart sank in your chest, faster and harder than you could try to make yield.

“That works,” You replied, despite how rotten you felt. “Take care, okay? Get some rest.”

You hung up abruptly, not waiting for his reply, and lowering your head.

Tears drip from your eyes, soaking the plushie in your arms as you finally let out the sobs you had been holding back for hours.

...

Despite Keigo’s exhaustion, he knew that the entire phone call was so off. You’d never hung up that quickly before, and you sounded a bit off.

None of it sat right.

He shot off a kind text or two before knocking out for the night, nodding off just after sending them.

...

You hardly slept.

You felt like you were being eaten alive as the night wore on and the moon remained high.

It was all metastasized, unchecked. Breathing exercises had stopped cutting it at some point, your own thoughts and methodical actions lost in the soup of it all.

You ‘rationalized’.

He’s a fucking hero, he’s going to get hurt. It’s part of the job and you need to get over it.

That doesn’t matter! It’s still terrifying to see someone you care about super injured!

You knew all of that though.

None of it was new.

What was new, and harder to understand, was the storm that had buried itself like a barbed arrow between the two halves of your brain.

The rest of it.

The complex miasma of feelings that were only set off by the events and subsequent feelings you tried to rationalize.

The mental thunder-cracks kept you tossing and turning, any sleep light and flighty. Your eyes burned and dripped through the entire night, soaking your pillowcase.

By the time morning light began to shift in from the heavy curtains of your bedroom, you might’ve felt worse than you did the night prior.

Your mouth was dry, tongue tacky, and swollen in your mouth. You forced yourself out of bed, methodically showering despite all of the energy it took with your leg still recovering.

You felt hazy beyond belief, fatigued, and purely awful.

Quickly, you nested for the day, still damp from your shower and sore from your lack of sleep. Tucking into the couch, you covered yourself with blankets and held the plushie to your chest, not even bothering to turn on the TV.

Keigo, meanwhile, prepped for his office day. Since his wings were sparse, he made an extra effort for his face. Bit of concealer to brighten his dark circles and smooth out the finer lines around his brow and under his eyes.

It seemed pertinent to cover more, wipe away his anxieties as his gaze flickered to his phone on the countertop of his bathroom.

You’d never responded the night before. You hadn’t said anything— not even giving an indication that you’d seen the message.

Truthfully, now that the drum of the press and his de-facto role had died down, your lack of contact filled him with burning anxiety.

You two had a habit of texting each other in the mornings, little sweet greetings and the occasional messy selfie that the other adored. Keigo typically woke up earlier than you, but still.

He gave you a call.

You robotically picked up on the second ring, hardly looking at your phone and its caller as you held it to your ear, “Hello?”

“Hey, angel!” Keigo’s voice seemed too chipper from the other side of the line. “I just wanted to call and check-in. You just sounded a bit off last night, is all. Are you doing okay?”

“Oh,” You sounded hollow, far-off, and sticky.

There was a pause, your numbed out psyche far-too slow and miswired to say anything else.

“(Y/N)?” Keigo asked. “Are you there?”

Your name shoved you a bit closer to reality.

“Yeah, I am.” You blinked, your name making you twitch, “Sorry, I’m just not feeling well.”

“Awww, since last night too?” Keigo’s wings beat in the background of the call. “Is that why you wanted me to come over?”

Sort of, not really.

Your voice shook as you quickly were losing the will to keep it even, “U-um—”

How do you even explain?

Your quirk spun alive, the feeling of shrapnel and rusted nails running jagged lines down your spine.

You need to be honest.

“I j-just,” You sniffled back tears, though fruitlessly. “I just got really scared.”

You covered your mouth with your hand, holding the phone away from your mouth and praying that Keigo couldn’t hear the muffled sobs you forced to stay in your throat.

“It’s alright, I’m okay!” He tried to assure you, tensing at the doorway to his balcony. “Everything is totally fine, there’s no reason to be scared.”

You went quiet on the other side of the receiver, all sound muffled and mixed. It made Keigo chew his lip, tightening his grip on the phone.

“I know.” Your voice broke at the same moment as Keigo’s chest tightened. You sounded so hurt.

It pricked those seldom-used parts of his brain alive.

It was those weird tingles and shooting bits of cortisol that screamed ‘protect them’. They screamed to life at your distress, hot and bright.

“Dove, are you alright? Are you crying?” Panic seeped into his tone as his feathers rippled from soft to razor-sharp in his instinctual rise.

“I just got so f-fucking scared,” You choked, voice fizzling on the line. “Keigo, I’m sorry, I just— “

Your voice broke into tears, sobs echoing from the phone.

Keigo’s grip tightened, heart-pounding and feathers vibrating.

He acted before thinking too hard about it.

“(Y/N), I’m gonna come over, okay? I’ll be there soon,” Keigo assured you, and himself, truthfully as he tore open his balcony door and launched into the sky

You sputtering out an affirmative as wind-whipped into the receiver.

Burying your face in your hands, you felt dread weigh you down from the inside out.

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ko-fi

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taglist: @thepandapopo @hawksexual @sinclairsamess @darcia22 @inhalingsoysauce @yee-fxcking-haw @aproperthottie @seasalttrioforever @msgrungie @mia--merc @a-monsters-love @peach-buns-unicorns@amethyst-rose-17 @mega-bastard @an-untamed-rose @ravioliplease @keigosangel @gobestupidelsewhere

(send me an ask if you would like to be added!)

#salem writes #hawks x reader #takami keigo x reader #hawks #takami keigo #my hero academia #hawks x y/n #hawks x you #lavender latte #takami keigo x y/n #enjoy y'all hehe and SMOOCH

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slytherinbarnes · 4 years ago

Text

Seasons Change [4]

iv. i will wait for you (as the leaves fall to the ground)

pairing: Steve Rogers x reader

word count: 1.4k

warnings: a little angst.

summary: despite running, the fallout from rome eventually catches up with you.

a/n: alright, that’s it!!! this is a wrap on this miniseries! please let me know what you think, I hope you enjoyed this series!

previous chapter // series masterlist // full masterlist

September 22, New York City.

The first phone call comes the day after you leave Rome, while you’re strapped into a Quinjet and heading to Siberia.

You know it’s Steve, because so few people have your number for your phone, and when the call comes in you put your phone on silent and slide it into your bag, not ready to confront the reality of what you discovered while playing pretend with Steve in Rome.

You’re falling in love with him.

When you initially proposed the friends with benefits arrangement, you thought there was no way you’d be the first to break the agreement and get attached. You’ve always been good at avoiding connections with others, and you thought Steve would be no exception. It seems as though you underestimated the pull of his personality though. He’s magnetic, and you can’t help but want to be around him.

And maybe he feels the same, you did see his drawings of you, but maybe those mean nothing, and admitting to your feelings will just have you making a fool of yourself. You don’t want to be the first to admit that you failed, that you broke the agreement, so you decide to run from your problems instead, the way you always have, burying yourself in work and using it as an excuse to avoid reality.

Steve calls again when you’re in Mozambique.

And Paris.

And Florida.

And Brazil.

But after a while, he stops calling. And the realization is heartbreaking.

In September, Fury says no more. Even he can tell you’re getting run down and clearly using work as an excuse to run from your personal life.

He puts you on a mandatory month long break, and after that he promises that your missions for the rest of the year will be stateside, giving you time to get your life together, giving you time to slow down and stop running.

When you land in New York, you realize that you missed the city more than you realized. The first thing you do is call your parents and tell them about your break, promising to visit them as soon as you get settled in. You hear an excitement in your mother's voice that you haven’t heard in years, and you realize now it’s been a while since you’ve been home, your longest time away yet, and maybe now, it’s time for you to stop running from everything.

No more running from your parents, or your trauma, or the memories of your brother. It’s time for you to sit down and figure everything out, time for you to visit your parents and talk about your brother and what his loss has meant to you, done to you. Time for you to admit your feelings to yourself, and to Steve, even if it ruins things between you.

Of course, that’s easier said than done.

Instead of heading to the Avengers Compound and staying in the room you have there, you go to your apartment instead, the one you just can’t seem to let go of. It's the first place you moved to when you got to the city, and it’s rent controlled, which makes it even harder to give up. You’re not here much anymore, but strangely, it’s still home to you.

More importantly, you have no chance of running into Steve here.

You spend the first week home catching up on any remaining paperwork and reading the same three books on your barren bookcase. On day 9, you switch on the TV, only to switch it off again within minutes, too overwhelmed with the choices of what to watch. Instead, you dig out an old puzzle, one of the few belongings in your apartment, and you spend two days piecing it together, listening to music as you work. On day 12, you wander to the fridge for a snack, only to pull the door open and find the shelves empty, wiped clean of the food you bought when you first arrived back home.

Sighing, you head to your room and pull on some pants and shoes, deciding a quick grocery trip will help to kill some time. You walk to one of the markets nearby, the late afternoon sun casting long shadows on the walls of the buildings lining the street, and a crisp breeze blows around you, promising an approach of fall.

When you reach the store, you grab a basket, looping your arm through it as you wander through the aisles, grabbing anything that sounds appealing to you. Wandering through a store without a list, and while hungry, is dangerous, and soon your basket is full of snacks and no meals. Making a deal with yourself, you decide the snacks can stay as long as you get a few other things to go along with it. Heading towards the produce, you grab a few things for salads and sandwiches, before deciding a head of lettuce should round out your basket and complete your trip.

As you reach for one of the heads of lettuce, another hand closes on top of yours, you and someone else reaching for the vegetable at the same time. You lift it and turn, intending to offer the head to the other person and grab a different one for yourself, only to drop it when you turn and lock eyes with Steve. His brows shoot up when he locks eyes with you, clearly surprised to see you in New York, and you send a silent curse to the Universe for making you do this now. “Hey.”

“Hey.” Steve smiles a little, the air between you tense and awkward. “When did you get home?”

“Uh… two weeks ago.”

His brows shoot up again, and he mutters, “Really?” You swear you hear disappointment in his voice, and it makes guilt flood your system. “Wow, that’s great.”

“Yeah.”

The air is thick with tension, and you squirm, aware that both of you now know that you’re avoiding him, no longer able to use work as an excuse. Steve shakes his head a little, turning to sit his basket on the ground, deciding to jump head first into the conversation. “I thought things were good after Rome.”

“They were!”

“Then why have you been avoiding me? You just up and left Rome, no note or anything, and you haven’t answered any of my calls.”

“I was-” You cut yourself off, about to use work as an excuse again, and you remember your earlier conversation to yourself. No more running. “I think I’ve been lying to myself.”

Steve shakes his head, not understanding. “What do you mean?”

Someone brushes past you to grab a bundle of carrots, and you almost laugh at the situation; confessing your feelings in a grocery store, after spending nearly two weeks straight locked up in your apartment, avoiding everyone. “I have feelings for you.”

Steve looks surprised again, and you hear him suck in a sharp breath, so you barrel on, wanting to get the confession out before he stops you. “And I know I shouldn’t say that because of our arrangement, but I feel like I should tell you because I promised myself I would stop running from everything.”

“What about work? We’re both always so busy, and-”

“I’m not.”

“What?”

“I’m not too busy, I mean. At least, not for the next few months. I spent 9 months away from home this year, and Fury decided to ground me for a few months and only take missions stateside, at least through the end of the year. I have a few things to take care of with my parents, but other than that, I’m free.”

Steve nods once, but says nothing, his eyes watching you closely. You want to squirm beneath his gaze, waiting with bated breath as he looks at you, but you force yourself to stand tall and wait for the rejection. “I’ve been thinking about stepping back more, letting Bucky and Sam have more responsibility.”

“So what are you saying?”

“No more running.” Steve steps forward, both of his hands reaching out and grabbing you, pulling you towards him quickly and crashing his lips to yours. You drop your basket, hearing it clatter by your feet as you reach out and grab Steve, pulling him close to you. You lose yourself in the kiss, realizing now how much you missed this, and Steve seems to feel the same, because he lets out a soft sigh before he pulls away and whispers, “I have feelings for you too, and I want to do this if you do.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

You look around, awkwardly realizing that you’ve confessed your love and drawn the eyes of other shoppers while standing in front of the lettuce. You reach down and grab your discarded basket, standing up straight again and looking at Steve. “So, what now?”

“Well, I heard you have a thing for cinnamon rolls, and I just so happen to know the perfect place to get some. All you have to do is say yes.”

Without hesitating, you reply, “Yes.”

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers smut #steve rogers x reader smut #steve rogers fanfiction #marvel fanfiction

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whats-rambled-rambled · 4 years ago

Text

Long Nights - part 7

Neil x Reader

Chapter 7: Wicked game

(see chapter 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1)

summary: it’s time to come back to life, and sometimes it involves Neil dragging you to a social event

warnings: 18+, language, alcohol mention (beer is considered alcohol, right?)

author’s note: 3k words. It’s not exactly what I had in mind for that chapter, but they have a mind of their own, as always.

Almost there.

The song for this part is Stone Sour - Wicked Game (acoustic, live)

Enjoy and let me know what you think, please? All feedback is greatly appreciated.

——————

Tag list: @cxnnienikas @neutron-stars-collision @ergunbilge @invertedneil @wanderedaway @i-wanna-b-yours @wonderwoman292 @buckysgoldenheart @townmoondaltwistle @theriverbeneaththeriver (please let me know if you want to be added/removed from the list)

-----

It didn’t matter how many times you saw him do that, the effect the sight had on you was pretty much always the same. Filling your mind with thoughts that were quite counterproductive, one could say.

The veiny patterns covering hands and forearms. The long fingers running through the buttons. The tilted chin, extending the neck, drawing attention to that impossible jawline. The slight pout. The brows drawn together in concentration--

You smacked your tongue and shook your head

“Y’know what, those shirts of yours are so rude, but the way you wear them, the rolled-up sleeves?”

Neil looked at you through the reflection in the mirror, puzzled. “What about them?”

“Abso-fucking-lutely disrespectful,” you sighed heavily and leaned against the door frame.

Playful lights danced in the blue eyes. “Oh yeah?” he teased, giving himself a final glance-over before turning to you. “And what you’re gonna do about it?”

“Nothing,” - you shrugged, crossing your arms - “because you insist on dragging me to a social event.”

The faint resentment ringing in your last words didn’t get lost on Neil.

“So boring of me,” he said as he closed the gap between you, trying to keep a straight face. He put his hands on your waist and smirked. “But maybe after that we can come back here and continue the conversation.”

As you fixed his collar, a shade of smile hid in the corner of your mouth.

“Really wanna listen to me listing all the things that drive me mad about you, huh?” you asked smugly, gliding your fingertips along the delicate stripes of the greyish beige shirt.

Neil’s thumbs brushed over your hip bones as he hummed, “I have a feeling it might lead to a rather pleasant conclusion.”

When you let out an amused scoff, his lips captured the snarky comment that was bound to follow. He pulled you closer and lifted you up, and the next second you were sitting on the edge of a vanity cabinet, breathless from the kiss, tugging at the striped shirt.

A buzz right next to you.

You jumped, startled, and glared at the phone. “Is it too late to tell Matthias the Uber driver that we’re not going anywhere?” you asked without too much hope as you nuzzled your face to Neil’s neck, breathing in his scent, unwilling to let this moment end too quickly.

Neil chuckled and stroked your arms. “Come on, it’s gonna be fun.”

You still didn’t know where he was taking you - he’d assured you that it would be casual, and that was basically all you cared about. He knew you enough, and you trusted his judgement, after all.

“It better be,” you pouted, pulling back, but as soon as you met the bright blue eyes your heart sang in your chest. After spending all that time in the darkness, not sure if you’d ever see his face again, you caught yourself taking an extra second every now and then, just looking at him. How the light played on his features, now soft in the elaborately illuminated hotel bathroom. How his lips curled whenever he found your gaze. How utterly stunning he was.

Smiling gently, you ran your fingers through Neil’s disheveled mane, taming the blonde mess if ever so slightly.

“Let’s not keep Matthias waiting, then,” you sighed and slid off the cabinet.

-------

The afternoon was quite warm for late autumn. As you were arriving at your destination, you watched the sun shining through the scarce leaves left on the trees, adding vibrance to their colours. Too mesmerized to pay attention to the route, you recognized the place only when the car stopped. The training site. You turned to Neil in confusion, but he just wiggled his brows and proceeded to thank the driver and got out of the car. You followed him out and right through the gate of the now-empty paintball outdoor facility which served as a front for the agency’s base, hidden a bit further inside the forest.

“Picking up something on the way?” you asked, matching his pace as you strolled towards the training grounds.

Neil shook his head and smiled mysteriously. “Not really.”

“Alrighty then, keep your secrets,” you snorted, rolling your eyes. “Aren’t we a tad overdressed for a little playground fun, though?”

“A rematch?” he pondered and smirked. “Didn’t plan on that, but it’s tempting.”

Indeed. “I’m kinda out of shape, but keep those baggy trousers on and I’m game - wanna beat you fair and square again.”

Neil let out an exasperated huff. “Baggy?! They might be a bit loose but --”

You giggled at his offended expression as he got busy looking down at the target of your remark, ready to defend his fashion choice. Your laughter was enough to stop Neil in his tracks, and when he met your playful gaze, he reached out and drew you into his arms for a tight hug. After a brief moment of perplexity, you eased into his embrace, moved by the force of sudden affection.

When he pulled back, you touched his cheek. “What was that for?” you asked, searching the blue eyes, but finding nothing but joy there.

“Being cheeky.” He scrunched his nose while tapping the tip of yours. “And brilliant,” he added, and for a second you were sure there was something else he wanted to say; instead, he laid a gentle kiss on your lips. “And maybe stalling a minute longer before I’d have to share you with all these people.”

You gaped at him, about to ask what people, but Neil already grabbed your hand and led you around the corner of the building - and you heard them even before you spotted them.

“Oi, there they are!”

“Finally!”

“We’ve just considered sending a rescue party in case you got lost in the woods!”

The unexpected eruption of cheers and greetings made your fight-or-flight reflexes kick in, but as you instinctively took a step back, Neil squeezed your fingers reassuringly.

A split-second exchange of looks.

All right?

When he saw your tiny nod, he let go of your hand, focusing on the team gathered at the makeshift chillout zone. “Not everyone has your poor sense of directions, Seb,” retorted Neil, flashing his teeth in a grin.

The young man’s protests got drowned in laughter as you approached the group together.

"Luckily not the case with our rogue here,” said Ives, elbowing his way in between other people. He shot you both a disapproving look, toned down by a smile dangling in the corner of his mouth. "Really, roofs? Didn't know you had it in you, mate."

"Me neither,” admitted Neil, going in for a clasp of hands and a brief hug. “When I saw that gap, I was sure that was it. Someone convinced me otherwise."

“The secret is to avoid looking down,” you shrugged, meeting the commander's amused gaze.

"Thanks for bringing our favourite nerd back in one piece." As Ives extended his hand, there was something serious about his expression, mixed with a sense of relief, and you realised he must have been in the response team Neil had called for help.

“My pleasure.” Beaming, you shook his hand. “Thanks for providing backup.” And scraping me off the pavement.

Neil’s gasp was almost theatrical. He smirked and nudged Ives lightly. “Aw, I’m your favourite?”

“Careful, that privilege may be revoked any minute,” grunted Ives in a weak attempt at keeping up appearances, but he couldn’t fool anyone. Now that you had a chance to observe them in the after-hours situation, the bond between the two men was clear as day, and your heart warmed up at the thought.

Waving back at Mahir, you scanned the group for other familiar faces. Wheeler, a couple of people you recognized from the HQ halls, and a bit isolated from the others - the big man himself, manning the barbecue station.

Overwhelmed by the attention you got from the team, you excused yourself and walked up to The Protagonist. You couldn’t help but smile at the confident vibe he radiated with as if he spent every weekend doing nothing but this.

“So dad of you, boss.”

He flopped a sizzling piece of meat to the other side, glancing at you humorlessly.

“How are you feeling?” he asked with polite concern.

“Grand, healed up nicely, thank you.” You circled your shoulder and grinned. “Not in a marathon condition, mind you, but that’s not exactly new.”

“That’s good, Neil was worried about you.”

Not sure if it was the lack of eye contact or something else in his presence, but you decided to stop ignoring the gut feeling.

“You don’t like me,” you said, tilting your head. A mere statement of the fact; you weren’t hurt, only curious. “It’s okay, you don’t have to, just been wondering why.”

TP sighed heavily. And when he finally met your gaze, the dark eyes were sad, only deepening your confusion.

“I’m sorry.” Then something cracked and a shiver ran down your spine, because suddenly, in front of you there was a man who’d seen a lot, suffered too much, and cared even more. The weight of it all slumped his shoulders, and for a short while, he seemed almost helpless. Taking a quick look at the hollering group, he sighed again. “It’s not your fault, it’s--“ he hesitated, searching for the right words. As he found them, there was no sign of the vulnerability from a moment earlier. “It’s a stressful business.” He sent you a crooked smile. “And I’m still mad about that watch.”

The lie was obvious. But the things you saw in his eyes made your chest clench painfully, and…did you really want to know?

Besides, that might have been a truce offering, and you weren’t bent on holding a grudge. Not with him, anyway.

“Hey, wasn’t it technically your idea?” you grinned, shrugging off the weird sense of dread.

A smile finally reached the dark irises. “I guess it was,” he admitted and patted you on the arm. “There’s some beer in the mini-fridge, could you --”

“On it.”

When the clank of bottles sealed your peace treaty, you caught Neil’s happy stare. You pointed at the beer in your hand in a question and he nodded, so you grabbed one more and joined him and the others.

That unfortunate mission must have been some sort of rite of passage in these guys’ eyes because out of the blue, you were no longer an outsider. The Cavalry accepted you with open arms as one of their own, and you couldn’t wrap your head around it. It was a nice feeling, though. Like you belonged. You saw some curious glances, but they came from a good place, and even the suspicious voice in your mind gave in under the cordial, jovial energy of the group.

Soon enough, you were joking with a young medic, having a balancing stand-off with Wheeler, or listening to crazy stories from some old operations, until everyone had enough booze in their systems that allowed them to direct some of the questions to you, as well.

“So is Neil a decent locksmith now?”

You puffed out your cheeks in a musing grimace, but when you spotted Neil’s raised brow, you started laughing. “I’d say even more than decent. Honestly? I don’t think there’s much more that I can teach him, he needs to polish his skills in real life now.” Mocking a teary sniff, you added, “They grow up so fast!”

Nobody would know that you did so while actively ignoring a faint sting in your heart.

You refrained from meeting the attentive blue eyes, though. Just in case.

“Oh cool, then what about a little contest?” Seb clapped his hands cheerfully. “You versus Neil, we could time you, and to make it fairer we could put a blindfold on you --” as he stopped for a breath, he realized - with some help from Wheeler’s elbow to his side - the slight faux pas.

But you barely acknowledge a curse and a mumbled apology cutting through the awkward silence, too busy exchanging amused looks and stifled giggles with your student.

“Neil, would you like to explain?” you asked, schooling your features.

He bowed his head as if he was accepting a great honor. “Gladly.” Neil took a deep breath and his eyes lit up. “See, my dear friend, had you known anything about lockpicking, you’d learnt that sometimes it’s easier to do that with, for example, your eyes closed. You need to listen to what the lock has to say because it’s all about feedback--”

You watched as Neil gave a full lecture, citing your own words from what seemed to be a lifetime ago. He did it with passion and understanding of the craft you’d never dreamed to see in someone else, and yet was so familiar when it came to him. Absentmindedly, you placed a hand over your chest, as if it was enough to stop it from bursting.

You couldn’t be more proud.

Neil finished his rant and looked at you, only to be met with all the appreciation and validation in your gaze, and he beamed even wider.

“All right, damn, we can cover Neil’s eyes then,” sighed Seb, a total resignation in his voice sparking a roar of laughter from the group.

----

As much as you enjoyed the energy of the team, your social batteries were getting drained, and you needed a moment for yourself before you could carry on.

Walking right outside of the periphery of light from the garlands, you let your gaze slide across the training equipment, now barely visible in the moonless night. The leaves crumbled under your feet as you smiled at the memories. Maybe one day you would actually complete the full run? You pulled on the sleeves of your sweater, hiding your hands from the cold evening air.

“Mind if I join you?”

You glanced over your shoulder at Neil, keeping his distance, ready to give you space. With him, it was always in the details he’d picked along the way, effortlessly weaving them into everyday life. “Not at all.”

Neil perked up and joined you in the shadows, inhaling deeply.

“Funny how the scent of the forest changes with the seasons,” he mused and you grinned, turning his way.

“That’s what I call a pick-up line,” you snickered and drew a long breath. “But you’re right, it’s too easy to forget that once you become a permanent city creature.”

He chuckled and lightly rubbed his hands up and down your arms.

“Are you warm enough?” he asked softly, fixing your oversized scarf.

“Yeah.” You brushed your cheek against his fingers, longing for his touch, now that you were somewhat hidden from the prying gazes. “You?”

Neil moved closer and wound one arm around your waist, then cupped your face gently, pressed his forehead to yours, and murmured, “Now I am.”

You hummed happily and slid your hands under his open jacket, resting them at his chest, and closed your eyes. Only then realizing how tense you were, you relaxed in his embrace, savoring his closeness. A steady heartbeat under your palms. The warmth carrying undertones of Neil’s cologne. A featherlike graze of his thumb over your cheek. His nose nudging yours.

But soon enough, you had to break a stolen moment. Trying to stifle a yawn, you hid your face in his shoulder to muffle the sound.

“Oh, my poor baby,” he cooed, biting back a giggle. “That tired?”

“I’m fine,” you mumbled against him on the verge of another yawn.

“Sure you are.” He kissed your temple. “The party’s almost over anyway, judging by decreasing amount of idiotic ideas per hour. Gonna call us a cab soon, all right?”

As you nodded, Neil tightened a hug and reluctantly let you go.

“Be right back, I’ll check if there’s any coffee left,” you said, gesturing towards the tables with beverages.

As your luck would have it, there was just enough for one sip.

A sudden sneer was enough to wake you up, though.

“Hell froze over.”

Mahir walked up to the mini-fridge to grab a beer and you met his mocking stare with furrowed brows.

“Vincent must be chattering his teeth now,” you joked, unsure where the conversation was heading. “Why?”

Mahir scoffed at the remark about your old associate, but he was still studying you closely, confusing you further. “Congratulations, by the way.”

“Dude, you’re killing me today,” you sighed, wiping a hand through your face. “Thanks, but what for?”

“You and Neil?”

And when you shot him a puzzled look, he waved his bottle at the place where you stood together a moment before.

Breaking out in a cold sweat, you deadpanned, “Oh.”

Bloody hell.

“I thought you weren’t doing the whole love thing anymore.”

The pulse pounded in your ears, although not loud enough to tune out the sirens blazing in your head.

No.

It came out harder than you felt it. “I’m not.”

No, no, no, no, no.

Mahir grimaced doubtfully. “Uh-huh.” He looked over your shoulder at the team gathered together in the distance and raised a brow. “Does he know that?”

You couldn’t force yourself to follow his gaze. The panic drained your face of all colour, and that was enough of an answer for your friend.

“I see.” Mahir shook his head, losing the enquiring manner. His features softened as he patted your arm. “Neil’s a good guy.”

Please, no.

“They always are,” you choked out bitterly.

Not again.

“You know what I mean,” insisted Mahir, searching for your eyes.

That the history was not gonna repeat itself?

...or that he didn’t deserve any of it?

“Yeah. Maybe.” You faked a smile. “Excuse me.”

Pushing past him, you went inside the building. You needed to be alone.

Oh, the irony.

Weeks of deliberately avoiding the topic. Tricking yourself into thinking that you can keep it casual. That it didn’t matter that much. That it was nothing but a self-indulgent fling.

You couldn’t breathe.

Lesson learnt, huh?

Barging into one of the restrooms, you got to a sink. Clenching your hands on the cold ceramic, you fought nausea tearing through your body.

Pathetic.

The gasp for air turned into a sob.

...and then everything went quiet.

You raised your eyes to the mirror.

Your reflection was staring back at you with determination.

It was time.

(next chapter ->)

#neil tenet #neil tenet x reader #neil x reader #neil tenet fanfiction #neil tenet imagine #robert pattinson #tenet #tenet fanfiction #long nights

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alj4890 · 4 years ago

Text

Angst Prompt

(Liam x Riley) with the prompt of Riley getting shot in another country while Liam was in Cordonia and it have been ordered by King Bradshaw as requested by Anonymous.

A/N Oof. What a way to knock me off my fluff kick, LOL. This isn't a part of my AU's but let's see what I can do for your prompt, Nonny. This takes place after the Bradshaw/Isabella mess but before Barthlemy's challenge. I guess I will ruin that brief moment of peace, LOL.

@gkittylove99 @krsnlove @kingliam2019 @texaskitten30 @hopefulmoonobject @yourmajesty09 @mom2000aggie @ofpixelsandscribbles @twinkleallnight

Masterlist

News

The Royal Palace, Cordonia...

"Here we go, princess." Liam settled his seven month old in her swing. "How about you help your father with reading through these proposals the Council is considering?"

Eleanor smiled around the teething ring she had put in her mouth.

Liam pressed a quick kiss to her cheek then started the swing.

He settled behind his desk, finally feeling a sense of calmness. With all the ups and downs he had gone through since his brother's abdication, he rested in knowing that he, his family, and country were at last entering into a season of peace.

He intended to keep it that way.

The gurgles and coos from Eleanor drew his attention. She waved the teething ring a few times before putting it back in her mouth.

He chuckled at her antics.

He was enjoying these few days of one-on-one time with his daughter. Riley had been asked to be the guest of honor at Lancelin St Clair's fashion grand opening. The renowned designer had created a place where his creations could be not only sold, but created specifically for the customer.

Lancelin had completely renovated a four-story building in Paris's Faubourg Saint-Honoré district, turning each floor into one with a definite purpose. The first floor was a shop that housed various sizes of his most popular creations. The second floor was part runway/part design on demand for the shopper looking for something completely original. The third floor would debut his new bridal line. And the fourth was set as his personal work area/apartment for when he needed to stay late and work on his designs.

All this was to be shown to the public to set off Paris's fashion week.

Since Riley had walked his runway during Liam and Madeleine's engagement tour, he had invited her to be part of his grand opening. Ana De Luca was traveling with Cordonia's queen to do an exclusive spread of Riley in some of the dresses Lancelin had made specifically with her in mind.

It was just the sort of news the people of Cordonia would enjoy after months of uncertainty.

****************

"I really don't want to go without you and Eleanor." Riley told Liam the night before she left.

"I don't want you to either." He held her close. "But I have to meet with the Farmers' Association about the progress of the apple orchards." He pressed a tender kiss to her lips. "I've already had to reschedule twice with them. They need to see I take their concerns seriously."

"I know." She sighed. "And I know that Eleanor would distract everyone from Lancelin's moment." She eased out of his embrace. "This will be the first time I go out without you or any of our friends."

Liam took her hands and tried to ease her worries. "You will do great." He smiled at her. "You charm everyone you meet. I believe I am proof to your effect."

Riley shook her head before kissing him. "If anyone is the charmer, it's you."

He chuckled while tugging her toward their bed. "Do you want me to find someone to go with you? Penelope or Kiara perhaps?"

"No thanks." She snuggled closer to him. "I wish Hana was well enough to go. She was looking forward to it."

Liam gently rubbed her back. "With Maxwell in Hollywood and Drake in Texas, we don't have anyone left."

"I wish Olivia was back." She muttered.

"Amalas needed her expertise." Liam reminded her.

"I know." Riley sighed again. "If I can't have you with me, I do tend to depend on the others to be there. I need to learn how to stand on my own."

"The world will once again be amazed by Cordonia's queen." He kissed the top of her head. "You'll see."

********************

Liam glanced at his desk clock. It was nearly time for Ana's live report of Lancelin's grand opening.

His princess had fallen asleep in her swing, drawing another smile from him as he carefully lifted her out. Cuddling her close, he sat down on one of the sofas and turned the television on.

Finding the right channel, he relaxed as the first images appeared.

Cordonia's Queen Riley has been given the honor of walking the red carpet first. Lancelin St Clair awaits, giving her the shears to cut the ceremonial ribbon.

He readjusted Eleanor in his arms as he watched his wife's bright smile flash towards the cheering crowd.

Ana continued to detail what they would soon see when shots rang out.

Liam stood up, causing Eleanor to whimper at being rudely awakened.

Ignoring her fitful cries, he watched as the camera caught his wife and Lancelin falling to the ground.

Then the feed went dead.

"BASTIEN!" Liam shouted over Eleanor's wails.

The head of the King's Guards hurried inside while talking on his phone. Regina rushed in behind him.

"Give me the baby." She insisted, gently taking the fussy little one in her arms. She left the study, allowing Liam to be able to focus on what Bastien was saying.

"And the shooter?" He asked. "I see. Where is her majesty being taken?"

Bastien wrote down the information. "Keep me updated."

Once he ended the call, he faced Liam.

"What happened?" He demanded.

Bastien cleared his throat. "A lone gunman shot both Riley and Mr. St Clair."

"Is she alright? Have the plane prepared. We must get there as quickly as we can!"

"Sir," Bastien hesitated. "I must insist you remain here. The gunman was killed by one of our guards. We don't know if there is another and--"

Liam shoved past him and called the airfield. Declaring it an emergency, he then rushed to tell Regina.

"Liam." She teared up as she took his hand. "Be careful and call as soon as you know more."

"Your majesty, I insist you remain here while I go to Paris." Bastien followed after him. "Once my team has investigated, I can then guarantee your safety--"

"Do you honestly think I give a damn about my safety?!" Liam rounded on him. "My wife was just shot! She is alone in another country and hurt. If you think I will sit here behind these so called protective walls, then you do not know me at all." He went back to his study and quickly packed his briefcase. "Now get me to the airport."

*****************

Early evening, Paris...

"Her majesty is at one of the private hospitals." Bastien explained as the car continued through the city. "Interpol is working with us to identify the shooter."

Liam stared blindly out the window. "Is my wife conscious?"

"She was." Bastien tried to explain. "She lost some blood from her wound and--"

Their car stopped at the front entrance.

"Liam!" Bastien shouted as the king didn't bother to wait on guards or to check that it was safe.

The young king ran inside, pausing long enough to ask where he should go.

"Je suis le roi de Cordonia. Ma femme a été amenée avec une blessure par balle. Où est-elle? Est-ce qu'elle va bien?" He said quickly.

"Elle se repose dans la chambre 138, Votre Majesté. Dr Miller a dit--" the receptionist blinked when he took off running once more.

Liam slid on the freshly waxed tile floors, barely catching himself as he followed the signs.

A doctor and nurse were just leaving Riley's room when he arrived.

"My wife," Liam gasped, trying to catch his breath. "Is she alright?"

"Oui. She was struck in the shoulder." He paused as both King's Guards and Interpol Agents joined them. "We removed the bullet while she was unconscious."

Liam reached for the door handle as the others began to question the physician.

He paused at seeing his wife laying there, looking so fragile.

One of the first things he had first noticed about her was her inner strength to face any obstacle she encountered. He realized he had taken that he had taken that for granted. The only other time he had seen her like this was when she collapsed during Eleanor's birth.

Liam knew there were only a few things he feared in this world. But those few things centered on something specific: his family.

He could face an entire firing squad and not bat an eye. But let it be Riley or Eleanor that was to be threatened, and he could not take it.

He collapsed in the chair by her bed and pressed a kiss to her fingers. Bowing his head, he waited by her side until she awakened.

****************

A few hours later...

Liam stood up when Riley became restless. Soft cries escaped her lips as she slept. He reached for the buzzer.

Explaining that his wife was in pain, he waited for a nurse to come in.

Bastien entered first.

"Have you learned anything about the shooter?" Liam asked in a low voice.

"We have." Bastien stopped the nurse.

He and an Interpol agent patted him down and checked the IV bag of morphine he held.

They stepped back and allowed him to tend to Riley.

Liam watched him replace the bag that had been on a slow drip.

"Can she have more?" He asked as she cried out again.

"Yes sir." He showed Liam the button he could push if she needed more, reassuring him that it wouldn't administer any past the dosage she could have. He increased the flow and left.

Riley's eyes barely opened. "Liam?"

He went back to her bedside. "I'm here, my love."

"My shoulder." She sucked in a painful breath. "What happened?"

"A man was in the crowd." Liam gently explained, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "He shot at you and Lancelin and--"

Her eyes widened. "Lancelin! Liam, he was bleeding so much!"

Bastien cleared his throat as he stepped forward. "He is in intensive care at another hospital, mam."

He pointed at the right side of his chest and mouthed lung to Liam.

Liam frowned some before turning back to Riley.

"Where's Eleanor?" Riley asked, turning her head. "Did you bring her?"

"No. Regina is watching over her at home." Liam eased down on the bed. "Do you need anything? Is there something I can do to make you more comfortable?"

"No." Her eyes filled with tears as she looked up at him. "Liam, if...if I had died...you...my baby..." She began to cry.

Unable to take her in his arms, Liam did his best to comfort her. He wiped her tears while speaking in a calming tone that he wouldn't let anything happen to her. That she was safe. That they would soon be home with Eleanor.

Riley tried to calm down but she shook her head. "We'll never be truly safe, will we?"

Liam paused in his assurances. He felt exhausted from the trials they continued to face. Should he now fear peace, knowing it would end horribly in some new threat?

Running a hand through his hair he spoke of what he did know. "No one is ever truly safe, my love. Even if we were locked away somewhere, accidents can happen. Sickness can strike. Bad things happen just as good ones do."

She sniffed and closed her eyes. "I know you're right," she opened her eyes and met his steady gaze. "I just wish we didn't keep having trouble."

"I do too." He cupped her cheek and softly kissed her. "All I need to know to make it through our trials is that you and Eleanor are taken care of." He struggled with swallowing. "I should have been there today to protect you."

She weakly raised her hand and caressed his cheek. "Then you might have been hurt or..." She couldn't finish that sentence. "I can't lose you, Liam."

He nodded, kissing her again. "I refuse to lose you." His words came out in a harsh whisper. "I will find who did this and will make certain they never do so again."

Riley rubbed her cheek against his hand and closed her eyes.

Liam relaxed once he saw her drift into a peaceful slumber.

"Sir?" Bastien motioned for him to step outside.

"What did you find?" Liam asked.

"The man was a hired gun from America." Bastien began. "But he was born in Auvernal."

Liam's eyes narrowed. "And who hired him?"

"King Bradshaw."

********************

Cordonia, a week later...

Riley was rocking back and forth with Eleanor sleeping in the crook of her good arm. She heard voices outside the nursery door. Curious, but unable to hold her daughter properly, she remained where she was.

A few moments later, Liam slipped quietly inside and smiled at her.

"Is she down for the night?"

"She fell asleep long ago, but I wasn’t ready to let her go." Riley let him put Eleanor in her crib. "I missed her so much. I'm so thankful to be home with you both."

"Nowhere near as much as I am." Liam wrapped his arms around her waist.

"I heard voices earlier. Is everything alright?"

He nodded. "Everything is fine."

Riley chewed on her bottom lip. "You never told me what was found about the gunman."

"There wasn't much to discover." He told her.

"Was he just some crazy person or was he hired by someone?" Riley prodded.

Liam let her go and motioned for them to leave the nursery when Eleanor made a disgruntled, sleepy noise.

"I don't want you thinking anymore about this." Liam insisted. "We are taking care of eliminating the threat."

"Eliminating?" Riley's brow furrowed. "But that means he was hired--"

"I want you to rest."

His nearly cold evasiveness alarmed her.

"Liam," she reached for his hand. "Please talk to me. I can handle whatever you have found."

Remembering how upset she was in the hospital, he averted his eyes. "We'll talk about it tomorrow."

Her lips parted to insist. She shut them when he escorted her to their chambers.

"Do you need anything?" He asked after helping her change.

"No." She murmured.

He covered her up and began to leave the room.

"Where are you going?" She sat up in surprise.

"I have somethings that require my attention in the study." He explained. "I'll be back in an hour or so."

She quietly watched him leave, feeling even more uneasy than before.

*****************

A little after three in the morning...

Riley awoke when she felt the bed dip down.

"Liam?"

"Forgive me, I didn't mean to wake you."

She checked the time. "Are you just now coming to bed?"

"Yes. It took longer than I planned." He stretched out beside her.

"What did?" She demanded, turning a lamp on.

She gasped when she noticed his bruised face and bloody knuckles.

"What happened? How did you--"

"It's nothing." He winced as he tried to get comfortable. "I'll be fine."

"Liam!" She snapped. "Talk to me." Her eyes narrowed. "Now."

"I took care of the one who tried to take you from me." He snapped back.

"So there was someone else involved?"

"Yes. And he will never have a chance to hurt anyone again." Liam declared.

Riley gently touched his face. "Liam, you didn't..."

"I wanted to." He admitted. "I was so close to beating Bradshaw to death." He closed his eyes at that memory.

It would have been so easy. A few more strikes, a quick twist and the king that had caused Liam’s world to nearly crumble would have had his last breath.

"I allowed Interpol to take him." He opened his eyes and stared up at the ceiling. "Olivia found all the evidence we needed to make certain the only way he will ever leave prison is to attend his own funeral."

Riley blinked back tears.

She then punched Liam in the arm.

"Riley!" He sat up when he noticed her shaking with rage. "What--"

"How could you?!" She screamed. "How could you risk your life when you already had everything in place to arrest him?!"

"He tried to kill you!" Liam yelled back. "All because we caused him embarrassment." His eyes narrowed. "Did you think I would do nothing to the man who set out to take my wife from me? Take my daughter's mother?!"

"He wasn't worth you taking a chance on him having a weapon or one of his guards kill you! What would Eleanor and I do without you here?" Tears fell, nearly blinding her. "How could you risk our family?"

All of Liam's anger disappeared at hearing that she had his own fear. Gently pulling her close he silently held her as she cried. His own tears mingled with hers as he thought of a life without her.

The sun was beginning to rise as their tears came to an end. They still held to one another, speaking in low tones of their life together. An occasional hitch in one's words caused the other to try and comfort the one temporarily unable to speak.

As light crept through the drapes, the two remained upright, still clinging to the one they loved.

Riley lifted her head off his shoulder. "Eleanor will be awake soon."

"Yes, she will." Liam pressed a kiss to his wife's forehead. "You should rest. I'll take care of her."

"I'll help you." She hugged him close with her good arm. "I don't want to be apart from either of you today."

His arms tightened around her. Unable to say all that filled his heart, he simply nodded while muttering that he didn't either.

She pressed a tender kiss to his lips and smiled. "It's a new day, my love. A new day just for us."

#choices the royal romance #choices the royal heir #liam x riley #king liam #liam x mc #trr liam #trr riley #trh liam #choices stories you play

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nightswithkookmin · 4 years ago

Text

MONDAY, JANUARY 18TH: GOLDY'S LOG

I miss Suga. Scratch that. I miss Agust D. My spirit animal.

I've been thinking about him a lot lately, wondering if his injury isn't an exemption to military service. I wonder if he qualifies, in light of his injury, as an able body. I wonder what their law defines as able body.

I wonder if he passed the legal physical exam and health assessment test when he turned 19, since he's had that injury way before debut. Or if BTS have undergone that mandatory military service assessment since they are all past 19 and what their results are.

Jimin has chronic back pain too. That should qualify him for an exemption to military duty. He can still do desk work if it's that serious.

I should talk to ***** and look into South Korea's law on exemptions to military service.

Moon values the arts and culture industry. There's already been an extension for conscription for the benefit of BTS. Their success and longevity in the spot light perhaps influenced this decision. Should BTS maintain this momentum, an exemption would be inevitable I feel.

I miss them. They've been gone for too long. I'm worried about the impact this is going to have on their popularity if they disconnect from fans for so long or be mechanical about the way they connect with their fans.

I hate the limited access to them. But Scarcity increases the value of a product and it's not surprising if this is the approach BigHit is adopting in the wake of the pandemic.

Limited access not only raises value, it creates demand. Bang PD is a bigbrain marketing genius- I hate it.

They are taking a huge risk with this new marketing strategy. Personally, I'd stick to what works but then I am no marketing guru. Just a consumer who likes to play it safe. I guess I won't be getting hired anytime soon. Fuck.

It's all very fascinating.

What's equally fascinating is the shippers out here on these streets. The Jokers.

I... they confuse the hell out of me sometimes.

How are they going to question my rationality when I talk about moments I feel Jikook are having issues in their relationship or had broken up etc but then have no problem with and even applaud that same rationality when I talk about moments that has led me to believe there is lack of depth in Tae Kook's dynamics or that they are not real by any standard or that another ship in BTS isn't real.

Do I have two minds? Or are they more inclined to be selective in their beliefs based on their biases towards Jikook and against other ships? It's weird.

By the same lens I define Jikook as real, I define Tae Kook or any other ship that includes JK and Jimin as not real. And by that same lens if I feel Jikook aren't together then I'm wrong and irrational?

It really confounds me.

Not sure if they expect me to apply double standards to Jikook in those instances.

I don't think there is right and wrong opinions or perspective when it comes to shipping, but I think if they are right about me being wrong about my perspective on Jikook then I must be wrong about my perspective on any other ship in BTS as well.

I can't be right about one and wrong about another. I'm either right about all or wrong about all.

I can't be 'right' about Tae Kook having 'issues' in their bond in such a way I think it often bars them from fully nurturing their bond and developing depth to it but then be 'wrong' about Jikook also having issues that mess with their bond from time to time when it's the same measurement I use in accessing the depth of bond of both ships.

I really don't understand their way of thinking.

What is right and what is wrong and who decides on that?

I think we ought to substitute right and wrong with 'believe and believable.' The approach to such discourse should be about what one is willing to believe or not believe about certain discussions: I believe this. I don't believe that. Because believes stem from our personal biases towards a subject.

And the people that come running to me with 'look, Jikook smiled at each other in On era so change your mind'

I would except I hear this debate all the time. I wonder if they realize they sound exactly like the Tuktukkers in my DMs trying to convince me Tae Kook is real.

'Look Tae sat on JK's laps! How can you say there is no depth to Tae kook' ' He squished JK's cheeks' 'Jk said he wants to ride with Tae, if there was no depth why did he say he wanted to ride with him'

I have a feeling Soft Koo is back. The days of Terminator JK might be over. Too bad, I liked terminator JK. He was a bad ass.

I like that he is experimenting with his looks. But I'm glad his Ravi-esque phase is over. I wonder who he is drawing inspiration from this time. He reminds me of Jimin though. There is something peaceful and serene about his looks.

Can't really tell much because Bighit is sitting on tons of footages. I think I need to send a truck to Bang PD HQ.

I don't like that Jimin posted a Vhopemin photo for Tae's birthday. It was cute and all but I don't like it. That shit felt passive aggressive as fuxk. Lmho. What, he didn't have a V or Vmin photo in his gallery? Sounds like someone didn't put much effort in their VMin agenda for this post.

I wonder if he will keep the same energy come JK's birthday. I mean both him and Tae didn't post for him💀

May be I'm reaching on this one. But a single post where V was not even the focus of the post... I think his birthday means a lot to him and he enjoys when people shower him with love and attention and I don't think his birthday is an exception.

And he kept reiterating after such said birthday how he recently discovered he loves to be loved and how he does most of the things he does in order to be loved by his fans, friends and family.

And it breaks my heart that, the headlines read BTS shower X, Y with love on his birthday but the two people close to him were missing from that list this time. The media talks about BTS posting for eachother as them showering eachother with love. Certainly they all know this.

And the fact Jin posted for Tae after Tae's birthday says a lot about Tae and JK. Tae had no intention of posting perhaps because he left JM a message on the packages. With Jin I feel he was overcompensating for not posting for him on his birthday...

JK gets a pass. If JM wasn't happy about him not posting for his birthday, he would have pulled a Jin.

Jimin talking about coming to the realization he loves to be loved makes me think JK withholding his affections openly made him come to the realization he loves to be loved. Just a hunch. And the only reason JK would withhold his affections is if Jimin himself estopps him. Those two give me headaches.

I think I got the closure I needed from this.

LESSON: dont get on JM's bad side and bloody post for his birthday 💀

Tae been releasing photos of Jimin and Jhope a lot lately. Not sure how that makes me feel either. I think it's beautiful. But when I think about all these beautiful photos he has of Jimin on his phone and how generous he is with them- I think they would have been more meaningful had he released it on JM's birthday. The snow photo he posted still sits in my Vmin heart somewhere.

I really don't like this not posting for each other's birthday business. It's 2021. They need to cut it out.

I feel JK set a bad precedent but personal happiness first so good for him.

This moment haunts me for some reason.

What was going through V's head. I want to know. RM looks done. Lol.

Jimin is really beautiful. I love his eyes when he smiles and the thing he does with his shoulders.

Some people complain I write a lot. Some say I don't write enough. Ayayayai!!!!!!

What to do.

I think I accidentally deleted a post.

I'm looking forward to JKK1. Stay Gold, Still with you, Your eyes tell... I hope he hasn't given his best away cos those were bops.

PJM1... oh God I'm nervous. I'm excited for it but nervous. I think Serendipity is a classic. The Christmas song was equally great and frankly the only good Christmas Ive heard so far and I don't even like Christmas- nothing against Baby Jesus I just think it sucks. That bridge in Dis-ease is something.

I want to read his thoughts. His spotify playlist is insightful but I want to confirm if he really sees himself as a mess who is always causing his lover grief.

I mean he did say he has realized he needs to be considerate towards those that love him. Not sure yet the connection there.

I want to read his thoughts.

PJM1....

I love JHOPE. I think his ship with Jimin is beautiful and healing. They make my insides warm. Not sure if their shippers think they are real. Do they? That would be awkward.

I think RM and Jimin need to spend time together... it would be good for them.

Jimin and Sungwoon shippers are alleging Jimin has been staying with Sungwoon all this while. LOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOL

But the bit about him living with Sungwoon before the start of Bon V 4 has me🤔

Around that period, I don't believe JM was at the dorms and Jikook were not together then too. He must have been staying somewhere...

I'll let them have that.

But around November 2019 when he was having issues with JK he was staying with Tae too so no I don't think that means Sungwoon is queer or that Jimin is sleeping with him💀

They need to get out of their imaginations.

I think Jikook will drive me crazy one day.

I can feel my cranium swelling.

JiRose shippers need to pack it up. They really think Jimin is straight? 💀

It's the bad editing for me.

That doesn't look like a straight face to me. Unless his butt was on fire and he was uncomfortable looking at that black interviewer, I think that's his flirting face.

Lately I've been thinking about what ifs.

What if Jikook is not real?

I wish I believed that.

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anythingandeverything1d · 5 years ago

Text

Congratulations

“(y/n)” the nurse called out from the door. You stood up and walked over with an anxious smile. She handed you a clip board of medical information that you needed to update and then said she would grab you once it was completed and turned into the desk. You sat back down in the waiting room and flipped through the pages. Ugh I wish my mom was here...am I allergic to anything? I mean I don't think so but maybe Im just unaware of it..I don't remember having surgery-well my tonsils were removed but does that count? You were filling out the page to the best of your ability when your phone buzzed. You looked down and saw his name flash across the screen before immediately ignoring the call. You rushed to finish the paperwork and handed it in as the nurse came back. “Ready?” she asked.

“Yeah.” you followed her down the hall where she took your height and weight before escorting you into the room. You hopped onto the chair and anxiously tapped your foot as she checked your temperature, blood pressure, and oxygen levels. After finishing up she sat on the stool and smiled.

“So, what are we here for today?”

“Uh...” you looked at your feet and shifted in the chair. “I think I may be pregnant.”

She smiled and nodded, “when was your last period?”

“My period tends to be irregular but the last one I had recored was around two months ago.”

“Okay, were you on any kind of birth controls, or using any type of contraceptives?”

“I was on a birth control, am on a birth control but I missed a few days while I was on vacation which is when I believe this all happened.”

“Okay. Have you had any symptoms other than your missed period?”

“No, not really.”

“Okay. Have you taken any pregnancy tests at home?”

You nodded, your brain flashing back to that day.

*Tears were flooding down your cheeks as he grabbed his last hoodie from your closet. All you wanted was for life to stop. You wanted him to say its okay, to make a change in the relationship, to stay. You sat on the bed crying as he walked out the door for the last time, taking with him every once of happiness you had. You ran to the bathroom, physically sick from the situation. It wasnt until you were hunched over the toilet that you realized the box of tampons had gone unopened. Missing periods was normal for you, they had never been regular. There was a slight doubt in your mind though. You had never missed a period more than once, so the fact that you were going on two means something was wrong. You had been under a lot of stress though, the distance, the lying, the excuses, all of it. Wiping the snot running from your nose, you had gotten up, washed your face, and thrown on sweatpants and a sweatshirt. You had mustered the courage to drive all the way to the drug store, purchase three pregnancy tests, and drive home. You had gotten three, you wanted to be sure. You wanted to be positive before making any other decisions. You sat on the bathroom floor after peeing in a cup and dipped each end, turning them over so you couldn't see the lines. You set a timer on your phone and closed your eyes. The only thing that could've possibly made this situation better was having him here. Of course he was gone already but you could still dream right? When the alarm on your phone went off you anxiously flipped them all over. Picking the first up and squinting you saw the dreaded double lines. Picking the second one up: dreaded double lines. And the third: PREGNANT in bold. You dropped them all on the counter and threw your phone. Of course, of course this this happens. He leaves and I end up pregnant with his baby..just like the movies except he won't be coming back. The rest of the day had been a blur. You had kind of just ignored the fact that there were three positive pregnancy tests in the bathroom. When your friend Luke had come over, you had cried into his arms. Cried about him leaving, about the break up, and finally about being pregnant. “(y/n) if you have positive pregnancy tests you need to call him.”

“No. I can't do that. Im not doing that.”

“(y/n)...hes the father, he deserves to know.”

“I may not even be pregnant though..they come up wrong all the time.”

“Not this wrong though.. this seems pretty sure.”

“I mean I've been stressed lately maybe its just a hormone thing.”

“I think you should go to the doctor and check. And if you are then you need to ball up and tell him. Seriously he needs to know”

You had nodded and cried some more before Luke left. Then you had called your doctor and made an appointment.*

Now here you were answering questions about your sex life and body. The nurse handed you a cup and showed you where the bathroom was. She said the test would take only around ten minutes but that she would be coming back to the room to do a blood test as well. Great, what a fun day... You quickly peed in the cup, leaving it on the counter for the nurse and wandered back to the room you had been assigned. Your hands were sweating and you felt dizzy. Having your blood drawn was probably your least favorite thing. In fact, you fainted almost every time. You checked your phone and thought about texting him...instead you texted Luke and told him how terrible the doctor was and that you were going to die while having your blood drawn. His only response was “lol” and you rolled your eyes. Typical guy.. The nurse came back in with a smile and sat down. “Well it does look like you are in fact pregnant so congratulations! We want to do a pelvic exam and ultra sound today just to see where everything is at and then have you come back for a blood draw in the future.”

“Thanks.” you smiled and relief flooded your face. At least you didnt have to have your blood drawn today. On the other hand, you were pregnant, which was a whole other nightmare in its own. Not that you hadn't wanted and dreamed of having kids. You just thought it would be under different circumstances and that you would be married.

“Im going to leave this gown here if you just want to change real quick we can do an ultrasound and hopefully see where the little baby is at.” She left for a minute and you quickly changed, your warm body freezing against the chair. When she came back in, she had an ultrasound machine on wheels. She started with the pelvic exam, lightly pressing all around your pelvic region. Satisfied she got out a tube of gel. “This is going to be cold at first.” You had nodded and watched as the clear gel squirted out and the ultrasound machine rubbed against your skin. You watched the screen as she moved it around looking for the baby. After what felt like months, she found a small white dot looking blob and smiled. “There it is...looks like you are measuring around 2 months right now which makes sense to when you thought everything happened.” She looked at you and smiled. “I know it can be a lot to take in..I’m guessing this is your first?”

“Yeah...its just a lot I guess.”

“It is, but it gets easier. Want to hear the baby’s heartbeat?”

You smiled and nodded. She pressed a button and you heard soft thumps. Tears slipped out of the corner of your eye and you wiped them away. “Thats pretty cool.”

She smiled and nodded before handing you a towel. “You are all set to go, we will have the pictures at the desk where you can make your next appointment. It was nice meeting you (y/n) good luck on your pregnancy and congratulations again.” You smiled and thanked her before climbing back into your clothes. 2 months pregnant...theres a living being in there...my baby...mine and Harry’s baby...oh god, what am I going to tell Harry? At the desk you scheduled another appointment and the receptionist handed you a picture saying congratulations. You looked at the little pea shaped blob inside you and grinned. Thats mine...thats inside me.

Luke surprised you by standing at your car door with an ice cream sundae. “Soo did you faint? did you die? did you live?”

You laughed, “Yeah I lived. I didnt have my blood drawn at all actually.”

“Oh? Why’s that?” You took the sundae from him and smiled taking a bite, the hot fudge melting in your mouth.

“Because of this.” you waved the picture in your hand and he grabbed it his mouth dropping.

“Is that what I think it is? Do you have an alien growing inside you?”

“Lukeee seriously”

He laughed and looked into your eyes. “Okay okay but wow, a baby. That’s amazing. How are you feeling about it?”

“I feel like it hasn't sunk in yet....but that I’m really happy. I mean Ive always wanted a baby...why not do it now? I don't need a man in my life. Im a strong and independent woman.”

“That you are, but don't worry you will have me too. Im going to be a great uncle, its the best job anyways. But uh- are you going to tell Harry?”

You shrugged your shoulders and continued eating. “(y/n)...it is his baby right?”

You rolled your eyes and nodded. “It cant be anyone else's.”

“So then you're going to tell him.”

“Idontknow” you mumbled, your mouth full of ice cream.

“You have to..you know he would want to know.”

“Theres a lot I wanted to know and he didn't tell me so I’m not sure yet. I haven't decided anything.”

“Okay...” he gave in and hugged you. “I’m happy for you I really am.”

You hugged him back and smiled. “Thanks. I’m glad you're here...I’m glad I have someone to go through this with. And I’m so so glad you brought ice cream.”

“It’s okay. What are friends for right?” You nodded and jumped in the car after saying goodbye. You didn’t quite know who to call yet so you decided to just enjoy some time with yourself. You did the only logical thing you could think of after finding out that there was a baby inside you: you went shopping. You picked a local baby store and walked in, looking at all the onesies, furniture, blankets, binkies, and bears.

“Hi! Anything I can help you find today?”

“No, thank you I’m just looking.”

“Okay well we are having a two for one deal on onesies and bibs so make sure to check those out.”

“I will thank you.” you smiled at the girl working but she kept looking back at you.

“Are you (y/n)...the girl dating Harry Styles?” she asked shyly.

“I was dating him, not anymore actually.” She nodded and gave you the look, you know the one of pity and sorrow? You went back to shopping looking at all of the little outfits, there were so many choices. You also had no idea if you were having a boy or a girl..something told you it was a boy but obviously you had no clue whatsoever. You decided on a cute grey onesie with little animals on it...gender neutral. You also grabbed a cute binkie that had a stuffed bear attached to it.

“These are super cute.” the girl said while checking out. “There's a whole collection that goes with this if youre interested.”

“No, that's okay this is enough for now?”

She nodded and wrapped the stuff in a bag. “So how far along are you?”

“Not very far, only a few months.”

“Well congrats! I hope everything goes smoothly and I hope to see you back here soon for more stuff.”

You smiled and nodded. “I for sure will be back.”

You drove home, your phone blowing up the entire way with twitter notifications, instagram tags, and more. Inside you scrolled through it, only to find pictures of you shopping for the baby clothes. Your name attached to headlines stating you were expecting but not far along. Great...this is not what I need...how do they even know.... you were scrolling through more twitter notifications. Harry’s name was now being brought into this. Another daddy in One Direction? Harry Styles Expecting? ugh...this literally cannot be happening.. and then everything got worse.. Harry’s name and photo popped up on your screen as he called. “Harry?” you answered anxiously.

---

Part 1 of my new series, hope you all enjoy! Goal is to have another part posted tonight or tomorrow! This is kind of just an intro to the story, I’m hoping to have them be a little longer but let me know what you all would rather: longer and less stories (may take more time to upload) or shorter and more stories (updated a little faster)

Let me know what you think so far and what you think will happen.

xoxo

#one direction #one direction fanfiction #directioners #one direction imagines #Harry Styles #harry styles fanfiction #harrystyles #harry styles imagine #harry styles imagines

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