#like I had been around almost the same people from age 5-18 so I had to expand my understanding of other people in a giant public universit

[jojo-schmo]

The 24 Character Strengths are awesome references when writing characters!!

I've found this website to be extremely helpful and cool while fleshing out my characters' personalities and motivations.

Even if I only have basic personality traits for a character, exploring strengths that I feel fits them and reading their descriptions is fantastic for inspiration!! It really helps narrow down the basic ideals I imagine a character would believe in, and then I can get more specific from there. It's a great guide to springboard off of!

Each strength is sorted into one of six virtues. Starting with a broad virtue, for example "justice," and honing that down into the strengths of "fairness," "leadership," or "teamwork" makes writing them really fun!

Here's an example of the "fairness" strength description! Lots of detail and tangible qualities describing it!

Of course there are infinite ways to interpret a character strength, just like in real life. And people aren't always black and white and follow a strength 100% of the time. But it's been extremely helpful to see specific traits being described in so much detail, and imagining different scenarios that a character would react in. It's like I can understand them a bit more and think a little like them, especially if their trait isn't one of my personal strengths. :3

But I also recommend taking the actual personality test for yourself! I took it years ago and it was really cool to put a name to some of my strengths and see how detailed this descriptions were. And when my friends and I shared our results, I felt like we understood each other just a little more. :)

Just thought I'd share this reference that's been helping me lately :D

[freedomfireflies]

You Again*

Summary: The one where Harry is your sister's ex-boyfriend and you finally get to see him again after 5 years.

Word Count: 11.4k

Content Warning: 18+, smut, age gap (6 years), sir kink, choking, use of a toy, exhibitionism if you squint!

"You've gotta be fucking kidding me."

Your eyes widen as you look up toward the man making his way into the diner. You'd recognize him anywhere. The dark curly hair. The tattoos that bleed through the fabric of his light shirt. The rings on his fingers.

Just like that, years' worth of memories come flooding back to you all at once.

"Harry," you shriek, sliding off the stool before practically flinging yourself into his arms. 

He smells exactly the same. Like teakwood and spearmint. A rather odd mix, yet subtle enough to remind you of home.

Of him.

His chest vibrates with a deep laugh as his arms wrap around your frame to keep you against him, prolonging the hug a minute or two longer than socially acceptable. 

And when you finally lean back to see him, your cheeks begin to warm.

It's been...four years? Five? Since you last saw him? Just days before he and your sister broke up, effectively removing him from your life for good.

It had been a hard time. You wanted to be there for your sister. To comfort her through the grief of losing such a long and meaningful relationship. 

But you wanted to be there for him, too. After all, he was one of your best friends, age difference or not. He had always been the comforting, influential figure in your life that you relied on. That you counted on to get through different hardships in your life.

He had picked you up after your first day at your new job. Had held you in his arms as you cried over your first break-up. He had even listened to you talk about the boy you had fallen in love with.

Losing him felt like losing a part of yourself.

And now, five years later...that part of you has come home.

"Hi, Dot," he beams, reaching out to take hold of your chin and squeeze. "Shit, look at you. When did this happen?"

His eyes rake over your figure and you feel your skin grown hot under his appreciative gaze. "Stop, it hasn't been that long."

"The last time I saw you, I was helping you move into your new apartment across town,” he recalls, arms crossing in thought. "And now...now what? You’re still at your job, I assume?"

"I am. I just got a promotion, actually. I’m an assistant editor now.”

His eyes seem to light up, that soft green sending chills up the back of your neck as you glance down at your feet. "Dot...that's amazing. I'm so proud of you."

You wave the compliment away. "Thanks."

"Really," he insists before following you back to the counter where you'd previously been sitting. "I know how badly you wanted to pursue a career in publishing, and this...this is really amazing. Do you like it?"

"I do," you tell him as you settle back onto your stool. "Yeah, it's really nice. The people are great, the work is fun. Plus, the promotion came with a raise."

"That's amazing," he sighs, head shaking like he can't believe it. "Really, that's so...I honestly can't believe it. I can't believe it’s been so long. You’re so…adult now.”

You snort to yourself as you twirl your straw around your milkshake. "Yeah, I know. Though I’m not sure if I should take that as a compliment or not.”

"You should." He smiles, and it's big and beautiful. "You’ve always been grown up. Even before, you were mature for your age.”

“Well…yeah. I was twenty-three. That does make me an adult.”

“And now you’re twenty-eight.” He shakes his head again. “I can’t fucking believe it.”

You glance down at the rim of your glass. He’s right, it almost doesn’t seem possible. It feels like only last week that you were following him and your sister around town, begging to be included. Traipsing after them to bars, the mini golf course, and to any and all dates. Even though you knew your sister couldn’t stand it.

But Harry was nice and always inclusive. After all, he was your friend before he was your sister’s boyfriend. And he was determined to make sure that didn’t change, no matter how many times Atta rolled her eyes.

"I don't know how you put up with me," you finally admit. "God, I was so annoying. Atta used to get so mad at me for never leaving you alone."

He shrugs one shoulder up. "You weren't annoying to me. I liked it. I mean, I liked that you still felt so...safe? Around me? I guess?"

"Yeah, I did.” You smile. “Honestly, I think you were my best friend.”

He laughs as he looks back over. "I better have been.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Cause you were mine.”

"Good."

He smirks. "Remember how you used to fall asleep on my shoulder every time we watched a movie?”

"That's right," you groan, burying your face into the palm of your hand. "See? Annoying."

"Not annoying. Cute."

"It was not cute, it was annoying. And you know she hated it.”

“I don’t care. She fell asleep on my shoulder, too. It was nice.”

You snort. “It was weird, let’s face it. But I swear I've outgrown such habits."

He seems to hesitate for only a moment, eyes flicking between yours. "Too bad."

A beat.

You feel your stomach flip as you look away, breaking you both free of the tension. "So...what, um...what brings you to town? I was a little surprised to hear from you."

He takes the cup of coffee the waitress had poured him and slides it closer. "Oh, yeah, I'm...I'm here on business. And I remembered you lived here, so...I thought I’d reach out.”

"I see."

"Yeah.” He hesitates again. "And...I missed you."

You can’t fight the flutter in your chest. "I missed you, too, Har."

The conversation lulls as the busy diner continues to bustle around you. And despite how glad you are to see him, something feels...off. Different.

You aren't sure what. Can't quite put your finger on it. It almost feels like it used to, but something has changed. He looks like your Harry. He sounds like your Harry. He feels like your Harry. And yet, he feels like a stranger.

Maybe it's because it's been so long since you've seen him. Maybe it's because you aren't twenty-three anymore. Or maybe it’s because now he’s no longer Harry, your sister’s boyfriend.

Now he’s just…Harry. Your old friend.

When you notice the way he’s staring, your eyes narrow. “What?”

"Nothing." He shrugs again before chuckling under his breath. "No, nothing. Sorry, I just...I don't know. It's just...so strange to see you again. Like this."

"Like...this?"

"Yeah. Just us. Alone. No Atta.”

“Ah.” You swallow. “Right.”

“It’s not…weird, is it? I mean, it is weird but it’s not…uncomfortable, right?”

“No,” you rush to assure him. “No, I wanted to meet you. What happened with you two has nothing to do with me.”

He glances down at his lap. “Right.”

There’s an edge to the memory that wasn’t there before, yet despite your curiosity, you bite your tongue.

“What about you?” you say instead. “What have you been up to in the last five years?”

He smirks. “Oh, not much.”

“Uh-huh. You think I’ve grown up, you’re basically an old man now.”

“Yeah, yeah, all right. I’m only 34.”

“That’s still six years older than me, which makes you old.”

“Thanks.”

“I’m serious. You're not that idiot on a motorcycle anymore. Now you say things like, 'I'm in town on business,” and you wear expensive suits, and ridiculous watches."

He glances down at the aforementioned object on his wrist. "In my defense, this was a gift.”

“Sure.” 

“It was,” he insists. His eyes flick over your face. “Look, I would have reached out sooner, but…after we broke up, I figured you wouldn’t want me to. I mean, you had just started your new job, and I knew it wouldn’t be fair to ask you to be a side, so…”

“There were no sides,” you argue softly. “You both just…grew apart. You wanted different things.”

“Yeah,” he agrees with a sigh. “But I know it hurt her. It hurt me, too. And it was weird having to say goodbye to all of you. And leave all those memories behind. You were both such a huge part of my life."

"Yeah," you whisper. "You were a huge part of mine, too."

"Does Atta know you're meeting me?"

"No. Didn't really think it was any of her business. This is about us, not her."

His brow raises. "Would she be mad if she did?"

"I don't know,” you admit. “Probably not, but...would it really matter?"

"Of course it would. I'd never want to get in the way of your relationship."

"You aren't," you insist. "Look, she's dating somebody anyway. And I'm sure you are, too. You've both moved on. We're just...old friends catching up, and she'd have to understand that."

He seems to consider this before saying, "Yeah. I'm not, though."

"You're not...what?"

"Seeing anybody," he clarifies, tongue coming out to swipe across his bottom lip. "Haven't really dated anybody since she and I broke up."

"Oh, Harry," you murmur. "I'm...I'm sorry—"

"No. No, don't be," he insists. "It wasn't...I've just been busy. Working at the firm and renovating my house. I've gone on some dates but nothing serious. I just...haven't met the right person, I guess."

"The right person, huh?" you muse teasingly as you take a sip of your drink. "Okay, and what does Harry Styles' right person look like?"

He exhales an amused chuckle. "God, I don't know. I don't really think I'm that picky. Just...anybody I can get along with, I suppose."

"That's it? No, 'They need a fat ass and the ability to make me a sandwich?'"

He grins so big, the corners of his eyes crinkle. "For fuck's sake. No, nothing like that. Look, I don't know. Call me old fashioned, but...I think sometimes you meet somebody, and you can just...tell. You know? There's this energy, this shift. You look at them...and it all just makes sense.”

And as he looks you, waiting for you to consider this…the air shifts.

"Yeah," you agree quietly, allowing your attention to fall down his features and land on his lips. "Yeah, that's...you're right."

He seems to notice the way your focus has wandered because he quickly clears his throat and looks back down at his mug. "What, um...what about you? I'm assuming you're seeing somebody."

You look away as well, willing yourself to calm. "Oh? And why do you assume that?"

"Come on," he nearly snorts, eyebrow cocking. "Look at you. You're beautiful and you're smart and you have this effortless ability to make anyone around you feel good. Who wouldn't want to date you?"

"Well...pretty much every male in the city," you retort. "I don't know. I've tried dating but...there's always something missing. It never really feels quite right."

"Yeah. I know what you mean," he hums. "There's this...disconnect. Like you're forcing something that you know isn't right."

"Exactly! It's not that I don't want to find somebody, I just...haven't. It's not as easy as it is with you."

His head tilts. "With me?"

"Yeah, you know," you sigh, hands waving about the air as you try to explain your point. "I haven't seen you in five years but we still, just...picked right back up, you know? As if no time had passed. We're still just us. We can talk, and we can laugh, and we don't have to force anything."

He nods. "Right."

"I mean, honestly? Sometimes I think it would be easier to date somebody I already know. The problem is that all the guys I know are assholes. And too immature, I guess. They've got no sense of purpose, no drive. And it’s not like I need to be taken care of, but…it’d be nice to know they could. You know?”

"Yeah. You need someone with a good head on their shoulders."

"Exactly. I need someone who feels more like an equal than this thing I need to take care. I want to date a man, not a Tamagotchi."

He laughs again and the sound brings the butterflies back to your stomach. You feel proud to have amused him. And even more proud of the way he casually places a hand on your arm as he takes a deep breath. 

When he lets go, you look down at the spot on your skin as if you can still see outline of his fingers. 

"You'll find somebody," he tells you, and you do your best to ignore the sparks dancing up the back of your neck. "You will. And they'll be perfect for you. Old enough to know better and wise enough to do it right."

You place your palm over the spot he once touched, squeezing it gently. "Yeah. Hey, and you, too. Anybody would be lucky to have you."

His eyes linger on yours. "Yeah?"

You smile. "Yeah."

The next few minutes are devoted to sharing stories about your families. He asks how your parents are, you ask about his. He tells you about his job and you tell him about your roommate. You recall every detail of the past five years, and once you've finally caught up to today, he pays for your drinks, and offers to walk you home.

You make your way along the busy streets of the city as Harry tells you that he's thinking about getting a cat. You laugh and tell him that he'd make a wonderful cat dad, and he seems to flush.

You wonder why.

Fifteen minutes later, you're walking up the steps to your building, already apologizing for the messy state of your apartment before he's even stepped foot inside.

He snorts the implication away, assuring you that no matter what, it can't be worse than how Atta used to keep her place.

And the mention of your sister breeds an odd feeling in your chest. Unease, and this strange tinge of jealousy. Like you're almost peeved at him for bringing her up. For reminding you that he's seen the inside of her room before.

But you shake it away as you push the door open, refusing to linger on the thought.

"Well...this is it," you declare, stepping aside to let him enter. "Probably looks smaller than you remember, but…it does the trick.”

He takes a moment to glance over your knickknacks and decor before he grins. “I love it.” 

"Really?"

"Yeah." He shoves his hands into his expensive coat pockets and nods. "Yeah, really. It feels...fitting."

"What do you mean?"

"I don’t know. It just feels like you.”

Your teeth gnaw on the inside of your cheek as you walk to the kitchen. "Well...thanks. I think."

You offer him a glass of water, to which he declines, before you join him back by the door. You're not sure that you’re quite ready to say goodbye, but you know he can't stay forever.

You wonder if you actually want him to.

You wonder if it would be so bad if you did.

"This was…really nice," he says as he takes a half-step through the doorframe. "Really, Dot. I'm proud of you. And everything you’ve done. And I'm really glad that I can still call you my friend after everything."

Your heart starts to pound a little harder inside your chest. "Yeah, me too. I really missed you, Har. I hope we can catch up again soon."

The side of his mouth curls up as his eyes soften. "I'd like that."

With that, he moves into the hall, and you close the door behind him.

The feeling that follows is...strange. Overwhelming. Like something is wrong. Like something has just been ripped away from you. 

Like something is missing.

You feel on edge. Off-balance. Confused and unsure and you have no idea why. There’s a pain in your stomach that wasn’t there before and a hollowness in your heart that didn’t exist before you saw him.

Suddenly, there's a sharp knock on your door. "Dot?"

He's back.

Confused and slightly excited, you swing it back open to find him braced against your frame. He’s quiet as he studies you, brows woven together in what appears to be deep thought before he strides back inside your apartment and begins to pace your floor.

"Okay," he begins. Strained. "Okay, tell me...tell me this isn't just me. Tell me this isn't just in my head."

You shut the door.  "What do you mean?”

He looks at you before frantically gesturing between your two bodies. "This. This thing we’ve been doing all afternoon. Tell me it's not just me. Tell me you feel it.”

And you're almost certain you know what he means, but the implication of it scares the shit out of you.

So, you simply tilt your head. "Har...feel what? I don't know what you're talking about—"

"Us.” He stares at you. “Us, there's something...there's something different here. Something that wasn't here before."

"Like...?"

"Like...like the way you look at me," he says, eyes on yours as you feel your heart begin to race. "You never used to look at me that way."

Your lashes flutter, and suddenly, you feel acutely aware of the way you've begun to gawk at him. Have you been looking at him differently?

"And the way you speak to me," he continues. "Talking about needing someone to take care of you. Someone older. Someone...more mature."

You swallow.

He takes a step closer. "And all day, you've just...you’ve found a way to brush your hand against mine. Or your arm. And you laugh at everything I say, even when it isn't funny. And I know you. I know this can't be what I think it is, but...you gotta tell me I'm not going crazy. You have to tell me it's not just...me."

And you realize now that you have an easy way out. You could brush off the accusation and tell him that it is just in his head. That he's your sister's ex-boyfriend, and he's your friend, and that you would never make a pass at him.

But then you say, "…what if it wasn't just you?"

He goes still, lips parting as he leans back. Almost as if struggling to understand what you've just said.

Truth be told, you're struggling to understand it yourself. You hadn't realized just how differently you'd been acting toward him. Or that you’d begun to wonder what would happen if he was your Harry instead of hers.

Because he’s not hers anymore. He’s just a man. A very attractive man. With a job, and a house, and enough emotional maturity not to make a fart joke every three minutes.

And it's not your fault that you're starting to see him in a different light. It's been years. Five whole years since you've spoken to him and you're both adults now. Completely different people, and would it really be the worst thing if you wondered what could have been?

"Dot…" he begins slowly, clearly wrestling with what he wants to say, "…you don't…I don't think you really know what you're doing."

You take a step as well, challenging him. "What am I doing?"

"You're...you're—" His fingers find the bridge of his nose as he squeezes. Hard. "Fuck, Dot. Don't…don't do this—"

"Do what? Flirt with you?"

His palms fly to his ears with a wince. "Stop. No, you didn't...you didn't say that. You're not flirting with me. You're not flirting with me—"

"What if I am?" you retort, following after him with a surge of confidence you didn’t realize you had. "Why would that be so wrong?"

"Because,” he scoffs, shooting a stern look your way. "You’re Atta’s little sister. And we’re friends. And you’re basically a child—"

"I'm not a child," you remind him. "I'm twenty-eight. I've been making capable decisions for quite some time now—"

"But not this," he hisses, the muscles in his neck straining. "Not…shit. You can't do this. You can't—”

"Why not? You said it yourself, there's something different here—"

"But not this—"

"Why not?"

"Because…you're you," he huffs. "You're...you're my best friend, and my ex’s little sister, and I’m…I’m just this big, bad man come to ruin you.”

And somehow, the idea goes straight to your cunt.

"You're not ruining me, Harry," you say, even though you wish he would. "We’re adults. Old friends catching up and realizing that maybe things can be different now."

He takes in a breath. "But they can't be. They can't be different—"

"Why—"

"Because it's not right—"

"What's not right? What?" you argue. "Is it just the age difference? Is it Atta? Is it that you aren't attracted to me, because I know you were flirting with me, too—"

His entire face twists into a grimace as he inhales sharply and presses his hands back over his ears. "God. Don't say that—"

"You were," you insist. "Like it or not, I'm not the little girl you used to know. All right, and there's...there's nothing wrong with us testing the waters—"

He steels himself, arms dropping back to his sides. "We can't."

"Why?" you repeat for what feels like the hundredth time. "Why can't we? Huh? We're not breaking any rules. We're not doing anything illegal. I don't see what's so wrong with just trying—"

"I'd ruin you," he says again, with so much conviction that it makes your stomach drop. "I would ruin any chance you had at a normal relationship—a normal life. All right, being with me...it would complicate everything. And I'd never do that to you—"

"I'm not asking you to marry me. I'm just asking you to try—"

"Try what?"

"Try seeing." You take another step, making sure you have his full attention. "Just…try seeing if what we think is here is actually here. If maybe we were meant to find each other again after all this time. If this is where it all finally makes sense."

He considers this for a moment. Considers you. And you aren't sure when you suddenly became so enamored by the thought of Harry, but you’re here now. And he’s here. And there’s a shift.

And it feels right.

Then, his head begins to shake. "No. No, I know better. I have to know better. I have to do better than this. I can't...God, I can't believe I'm even...no. No, you mean too much to me for me to ruin this."

You feel your chest deflate as your lips press into a thin line. And you stare at him. You stare and you see the indecision and anguish on his face. You see the way he wrestles with the idea you've given him. The way he wrestles with himself.

The way he wrestles with you.

You don't want to push him. Because you know this is something you can never take back. And maybe there's just too much adrenaline in your veins right now. Maybe you aren't thinking straight, and once he leaves and the moment passes, you’ll wonder what you were so worked up about anyway.

But right now, all you feel is disappointment.

"Fine," you whisper, and his eyes soften. "No, fine. You're right. You're right, this is...I never should have said anything. I was…confused. I was just happy to see you again and I thought it was something else, but…you're right. It's nothing. And I don't wanna be your mid-life crisis. I just want us to be friends again.”

Your tiny apartment falls silent as you both settle onto this conclusion. As you let your heartbreak dangle in the air.

Then, his fingers between to flex and his teeth begin to grit, and watch in real time as he starts to change his mind.

Then, he murmurs, “Oh, fuck it.”

Next thing you know, he's closing the gap between you, taking hold of your face and kissing you hard.

You don’t have time to process it. Don’t even care to process it. But you don’t care. Because everything makes sense now.

So, you feel him. Surrender to him. Indulge in the dominate pull of his hands on your jaw as he takes a taste of you on his tongue. As he presses his hips so hard into yours that you feel your knees go weak.

You make a noise in your throat as he goes deeper, and he growls. Like he's fighting himself. Fighting the urge to take as he begins roughly walking you back until you’re slammed against the wall.

He knows exactly what he's doing in a way that younger men never have. He makes you feel both taken care of and somehow, still completely helpless. You don't have to think about anything with him because he does everything. 

He presses his strong, tall frame into yours until he practically disappears into you. His large hand grips onto the back of your neck as you whimper, taking control of the moment—of you—until the only thought left in your head is just more.

And you don't doubt that he'd give you more if you asked, but before you can, he pulls back, and puts the moment on pause.

You feel breathless. Dejected. Wilting in his hold as he meets your eye and looks for your reaction.

But he won’t find it. And you bite back a whine as you wait for him to come back.

He sweeps his thumbs along your cheek before sighing to himself. "Dot..."

You feel your stomach turn at the nickname. At the way it comes out raspy and desperate. "Don’t say it."

But he does, anyway. "We shouldn't do this."

"I know," you murmur, fingers disappearing into his hair while he seems to nestle into your touch. "I know, but I want to. I want to, Har. So…please don’t make me lose you again.”

Another beat passes before he groans and presses his forehead to yours. “God,” he nearly growls, and the sound makes your thighs squeeze together. “Dot—”

"I won't tell," you promise while his jaw clenches. "I won't, I swear. I'll be your secret."

Just like that, the hand he placed on your thigh tightens. Squeezing until you're squirming beneath him. He’s losing his conviction and you’re losing your patience.

"This is wrong," he mumbles. "S'wrong, Dot. I can't do this to you. Can't do this with you...I can't...I know better. I have to do better.”

You tug on his hair as you straighten up, whining beneath a strained breath. "I don’t want you to do better. I want you to do me.”

He exhales deeply with this, nose running down the side of your face as his lips travel to your neck. He seems to take refuge there, subtly pressing kisses to your throat as he thinks. "I want to," he tells you softly. "You have no idea how badly I want to. How badly I want to do everything for you. Show you how a real man fucks. Until you see stars.”

"Har," you just about gasp, anxious to have him do just that. "Please...please—"

"Fuck." His thigh slots between the both of yours and you writhe against him, searching for anything you might find. "Be so easy to take you. Be so easy to show you what you're missing. To wreck you until you’re begging for more—"

"So do it," you plead, pulling on him until his mouth meets yours. "Do it, Har. Please. Just once. Just once, and I promise I'll be so good. Be so good for you. Won't ever ask you again—"

His hold on you grows more determined before he's ripping you away from the wall and slinging you toward your bed a few feet away.

He’s on you in seconds, hovering about where you lie as you greedily grab for him. "Promise me," he hisses as his palm slips beneath your shirt, and a needy whimper bleeds from your throat. "Promise me that this is what you want."

"I promise," you repeat quickly, arching into his touch. "Promise—"

"Promise me...that you'll be good," he says next, fingers brushing over the material of your bra. "That you'll behave. That you'll do exactly what I tell you."

"Yes," you breathe, eyes falling shut.

"Fucking promise me..." he continues as he scratches down your chest, "...that you won't tell. That you'll be my dirty little secret. That you'll be mine. That you'll let me ruin you and that you'll fucking thank me for doing it—"

The last domino falls. Crashes to the ground as you tug him down to you so you can kiss him. So, you can prove your loyalty. Prove that this is everything you’ve ever wanted.

You feel him smile.

"You little fucking minx,” he purrs.

Your skin warms as Harry's stunned but unceasingly enthralled gaze lingers on the red lace of your underwear. However, his fingers move instead for your hips. His hauntingly empty touch ghosting across the fabric of your underwear as you anxiously await contact.

But he doesn't give it to you. Not quite, not yet. He just wants to look at you. Wants to drink you in. Allow himself the privilege of seeing what he never has before.

"Did you wear these just for me, little one?" he asks in a gravely drawl, eyes flicking up to yours from where he lays between your thighs. 

You swallow as you look across your stomach at him. You're not sure why you picked out this particular set today. Perhaps it was a subconscious choice or perhaps destiny was simply on your side.

"Maybe," you murmur, nails curling into your palm as you work in shallow breaths. God, you need him to touch you. Need him to do something about the mess that's sitting two inches in front of his face.

The very same mess he's pretending he doesn't notice.

Your response encourages a smirk as he hums and glances back down at the little white bow placed delicately in the center. "S'cute, Dot," he says softly, pinching the ribbon between his thumb and forefinger. "Fucking precious, actually. Knowing you got yourself all dolled up. Just to see me."

He pulls his lip between his teeth and glances back over your face. He's amused by the weary and desperate expression you wear and you're two seconds away from groaning.

His touch moves down. Down, down, down until the pad of his finger brushes over your clit. 

You tense before releasing a shaky exhale. 

Satisfied with this reaction, he moves even lower. Until he finds that growing wet patch that's beginning to hurt.

"What's this?" he coos, looking down toward the darkened red fabric. "Oh, darling...s'this for me, too?"

You're not sure where your quippy attitude from before has gone because now you can do nothing but nod mutely as you shift beneath his hand.

"Yeah?" His eyebrow raises as he grins at you. "Is this what has you so anxious?"

You give him another nod.

He hums. "Think I need to see for myself, hm?" He smirks and pats his palms against your hips. "Take these off for me."

You quickly reach down to hook your fingers around the hem of your underwear and drag them down your thighs. Once they've been pulled from your body, you get ready to toss them onto the other side of the bed. But before they can be flicked from the tips of your fingers, Harry snatches them with his fist.

"Uh-uh," he tuts as he tucks them into his suit's breast pocket. "These are mine now."

You suck in a sharp, eager pant. "Har—"

"Shh." He settles back onto his stomach, hands curling around your thighs to guide them apart and allow him a better visual. "M'busy, little one."

But it’s nearly impossible to stay quiet as his warm breath fans across your pussy, making the mess that much more obvious to you both. In fact, you can practically see the glistening reflection in his eye as he studies your cunt in the most intimate of ways.

You're not sure what he wants. What he's doing or planning or thinking. And you don't know why, but the way he stares at you does more for the apprehensive coil in your gut than him actually touching you has.

Finally, he makes another satisfied noise deep within the back of his throat before he brings his fingers back to you.

Two are placed just above your clit before he teasingly drags them down. However, when your hips buck up, he merely shoves them back down with a tsk.

Once you’re still, he starts again. Easing himself through your folds as he spreads you with the utmost glee. Fascinated by the way your body feels, the way it reacts to him.

His tongue sits between his lips as he ventures down, and the moment he finds the pooling of arousal waiting for him...you see the muscles in his neck contract.

"Darling…" The nickname is whispered across your body as he scoots closer. "Bet this hurts, doesn't it?"

"Yes," you reply instantaneously, straining around the singular word as you resist the urge to whimper. 

He circles the tip of his finger around your aching hole, almost as if to test you. "Oh, precious girl...how long, hm? How long have you been in so much pain?"

Truthfully, since you hugged him at the diner.

"All day," you say aloud, hands gripping onto the duvet beneath you. "All day, Har. Been thinking about you all day."

And that is the honest answer. You'd been anxiously awaiting your meeting from the moment you woke up.

But he smiles as if he knows better, despite the way he seems to bask in your response. "All day, hm? And what were you gonna do if I never came back? Were you just gonna sit here and rub your pretty thighs together?"

Your heart skips while your hands gather atop of your stomach.

His brow raises. "No? Well then how were you gonna take care of it, hm?"

For a moment, you think this is simply rhetorical, but the longer the silence stretches, the more obvious it becomes that he expects an answer.

You swallow the odd lump in your throat. "How do you think?"

"Uh-uh," he chastises again. "I wanna hear you say it. Want you to tell me exactly how you were gonna fix this little problem of yours had I not been here."

Your head flops back against the pillows as you glare at the ceiling. He's always been rather infuriating but now he's a menace.

"Dot..." He's warning you. Calling you back. Urging you not to be so bratty.

With a tentative sigh, you look back at him. "My...vibrator."

He perks up. "Yeah?"

You nod faintly. 

"Tell me how," he instructs next, jutting his chin toward you. "Better yet...show me. Show me how you've been taking care of yourself all these years."

Feeling rather embarrassed under the spotlight of such an intimate request, you shyly look over toward your nightstand and outstretch a hand. After pulling the drawer open, you slip inside and find the purple wand that's just small enough to fit snugly inside your palm.

And Harry watches with a certain wonder in his eye as you bring the dainty toy closer. Yet, he says nothing while you slowly guide it toward your stomach and down to your thighs.

But he does, however, shift in order to make room, scooting back by a hair to allow you the space you need to place the head right above your aching clit.

For some reason, doing something so private in front of him feels...odd. Strange and almost unsettling. And perhaps that's just nerves, but you can't deny the heat that rushes to your face as he looks between you and the vibrator.

"S'this it, then?" he murmurs, a hint of teasing laced within the remark. "Don't even have to turn it on?"

Your thumb taps against the power button, a nervous tic, although you refrain from switching the toy on just yet. "No..."

His smirk is borderline haughty. "Then what do you do, little one? How do you use it?"

You say nothing. You hold his stare, and you hold a deep breath, and you hold the wand to your glistening cunt.

Then...you flip the switch.

The soft, dainty vibrations echo across the room, across your bodies, and across your clit as it's met with the instant stimulation of the pulsating wand.

You choke on a gasp as you return your eyes to the ceiling, allowing for the feeling to take control of each remaining sense.

And as you do, Harry's hands make themselves known to you as they begin to smooth up your legs, helping guide your thighs further apart once again.

There's an ever-so-slight stretch that follows as your muscles are pulled, and the distinctive burn makes your lashes flutter shut.

"There you go," he whispers. "So pretty, darling. God, could watch you do this all day."

Truthfully, you imagine you’re quite a sight. After all, you’ve watched yourself before. You know how it looks. Know exactly the kind of visual fantasy Harry is witness to right now.

So, you play it up, give him a show. After all...he's got a front row seat.

You rotate the head slowly, circling down and around your hole before retreating and dragging the object back up and through.

And you shiver every time it brushes against that particular sweet spot. Every time the pulses slow just to speed up once more. It's almost torturous the way your body is being bent to such salacious desires. And cruel the way you're forced to do this while he only watches.

A whimper slips free, and you arch off the bed, pressing the toy as tight against your body as you can stand.

You hear Harry chuckle. 

"Easy," he warns before you feel his fingers curl around your wrist, encouraging your grip to relax. "Take it slow, Dot. Not in a hurry, are you?"

"No," you breathe, head shaking zealously. "No, m'just...feels good."

"Does it?" He almost sounds surprised. "Hm. Interesting. Seeing as you're doing it wrong."

Your head lifts.

He glances toward the vibrator. "May I?"

You nod.

Pleased, he slips the toy free from between your fingers and clears his throat. Focused eyes landing on your body as he readies the bullet. 

Then...he begins.

It meets your clit—an innocent, familiar touch—before it's instantly being dragged down. He's slow with it. Giving you enough time to feel each particular flutter and twitch. 

Your soft gasps and grateful sighs carry him further, until the tiny head of the toy is swimming through your arousal. You fall still, attention locked on the man by your knees. 

But he’s still focused. Soft, green eyebrows weaving together as his pretty cherry lips stretch into a smile.

Something changes—everything changes—when he slips the head inside. Your entire body ripples from the vibrations as you stumble over his name and squirm across the mattress.

He only laughs before placing his arm overtop your stomach to keep you cemented to the bed. "None of that. Stay still for me."

"Har," you whisper, depleted of any strength. "Please..."

"What, little one? What do you want?"

"I need...please, I'm..."

"What? Does it feel good?"

"Yes. Yes...yes, feels so good. Please..."

"Please what? What do you want, sugar?"

More. Everything. Anything. "Fuck, I'm—don't stop. Please don't stop."

"Oh, darling," he breathes. "I'd never dream of it."

He takes the toy out and moves it back to your clit, circling gently a few times before pressing down hard. 

And you almost miss the full feeling it provided as it was eased into you, but before you can dwell for too long...Harry's extending his fingers and slipping them into your cunt.

Not one, but two of those beautiful digits push past your walls and begin to stretch you, ripping a gasp from your throat at the simultaneous stimulation. 

"Attagirl," he murmurs from below, and you can hear the smug undertone. "That's what you wanted, hm? Needed something to fill you."

Your chest heaves, the red lace of your bra lifting and falling as you roll your head back. "God, Har—"

"Tell me, darling," he continues, easing himself out just to push back in. "Were you gonna use your own fingers? If I wasn't here? Gonna ride your pretty little hand?"

You can't tell if he already knows the answer or if he just wants to picture your hand between your thighs.

Either way, you pant out, "Mhm."

"Yeah? How many, honey? How many were you gonna use?"

"...two."

He tsks, seemingly disappointed with this answer. "Just two? Hm. And would it have felt like this, darling? Would they be able to do it for you the way mine can?"

To accompany this ask, he curls upward, nearly yanking the pleasure out of you as you choke on a cry and writhe away from him. 

"Fuck—" Your teeth tug on your bottom lip. "Shit, Har—"

"Is that a no, then?" He thrusts his fingers out and back in again. "Would you have gotten yourself this wet...with just your own hand?"

The sound of him slipping through your arousal meets your ear as you groan and look down.

"No?" He adds a third finger while making sure to keep the wand of the vibrator exactly where it needs to be. "What about when you thought of me? Would that have done it for you, sugar? Thinking of me while you soaked your sheets? While you dripped down your knuckles as you fucked yourself?"

You've never heard a man talk to you this way. You already knew his experience superseded that of any man you'd been with before but this. None of those other boys ever knew how. But Harry...God. He knows just what to say. Knows exactly what you need to hear, and it overwhelms you.

"Har...Har—"

"Need an answer," he reminds you, but when you refuse to offer him one, he takes himself away. His fingers, the toy, his body. Leaning away completely as your pussy goes completely quiet.

"Harry," you just about moan, pushing up onto your elbows to leverage the playing field. "You...I'm...I was just—"

"Disobeying," he answers for you. "That's what you were doing. And I don't think that's fair, do you?"

You frown. You know this tone he's taking with you. Authoritative and condescending. It makes you huff. "Fine. I'll try again."

"Good girl," he murmurs, nodding at you as if to encourage confidence.

"I...wait, what was the question again?"

He smiles at this, releasing an amused chuckle beneath his breath before crawling back to you. His hands find the mattress beside your hips and he settles between your parted thighs, lips dangerously closer now.

And you can smell him. Smell his cologne, and his aftershave, and his shampoo. Can feel the heat radiating off his body, even through the expensive suit. Can see how much he wants to take care of you—ruin you. As promised.

"Do you get yourself this wet...when I'm not around?" he repeats, and the tip of his nose brushes against yours.

Your breath hitches. "No."

The answer was always obvious, but you know he needed to hear you say it. 

"Do you touch yourself...the way I touch you?" 

"No."

"Can you make yourself come the way I can?"

"God, no—" you gasp before taking hold of his face and smashing his mouth against yours.

His lips are perfect and his kiss is perfect and the two of you are perfect together. A connection so seamless, so effortless...it's as if you were always meant to be.

A ridiculous notion, you think to yourself, but right now...it's quite nice.

He pulls himself back just enough to meet your eye and offer a devious grin. "Then let’s find out, hm?"

Rough fingertips travel up the length of your inner thigh, forming goosebumps in the wake. You shiver, ready to receive his touch once again before he dances right past your cunt, and up your hip. 

He moves for the lace on your chest, tugging on the wire between your breasts with a disappointed tsk.

"I want this gone," he decides, plucking it from your skin. "Need to see all of you, Dot."

And before you can even reach back to undo the hook, he's looping an arm underneath your back, lifting you up, and flicking the clasp free. 

Once done, he yanks the bra down your arms and body before flinging it somewhere behind him.

Your eyes shut as your naked chest is revealed to him, heart hammering against your ribcage.

But then, you feel those lips again. He wraps his mouth around your left nipple before you can even whisper his name, sucking on you as though he's determined to make you see stars.

Which you do the moment his teeth pull on the sensitive skin. And you can't help but mewl as his tongue flicks cruel and merciless patterns against before moving for your collarbone.

He groans as he goes, situating his knee between your legs and pressing it directly against your cunt. His other hand gropes at your right breast, kneading at the tender flesh until his mouth reaches your neck. He nips at a vein just below your jaw and you arch up into him, chest knocking into his.

He sucks sweet bruises into the curve of your throat before licking apologies over the newly ruined skin. It's slow and painful and beautifully good.

Everything about him is beautiful and good.

His entire body seems to cater to yours as he cages you to the mattress and easily pulls whimpers from your throat. As he touches you, and pleases you, and knows you in a way nobody else ever has. 

You grind yourself against his leg before glancing down. And that’s when you notice the way your arousal has begun to soak through his nice pants. The way a dark little patch seeps into the fancy—and expensive—material. A sight both erotic and humiliating.

Your whimper forces his eyes to where yours reside, and he smirks when he sees your mess.

"What's the matter, little one?" he asks, taking his hand from your tit and using it to grab onto your jaw. "Are you embarrassed?"

You nod, despite his hold.

"Oh, my dirty little girl,” he hums. “I don't mind you soaking my trousers. But I'd rather you soak my cock."

You'd rather that, too, and you're more than grateful when he leans back to undo his belt. You don't know where this will lead you. If you’ll fuck him and then lose contact for another five years. 

Or if you’ll fuck him and change everything.

But right now, you don't mind. You'll happily exist in this moment with him. In these bad decisions until you're coming so hard, you forget your own name.

He leans back to begin ridding himself of his clothes and you scramble upward to help him along. Your greedy hands grab at his jacket and his shirt, wrestling them down his arms and off his broad chest. Wanting to see him the way he can see you.

You nearly moan when his inked skin is revealed to you. You knew he'd gotten a few tattoos in college, and even some a bit after. But seeing them now, painted across such a tan, toned canvas makes your head spin.

"Easy," he laughs, reaching out to swipe his thumb beside your mouth to collect the pooling drool. "Save some for me, hm?" 

But you can't. Instead, you take his finger between your lips and bury it beside your tongue.

Surprised, his lashes flutter. But once you realize he won’t be able to undo his pants without both hands, you regretfully pop his digit free. Allowing him to slip out of his briefs until his cock springs free.

He’s…perfect. Still. Somehow. Red and swollen and leaking just for you. And you clench from the mere thought of having something so beautiful inside you.

You crawl closer, eager for a taste, but Harry simply grabs hold of your chin.

"Yes, little one?" he murmurs, using his other hand to hold his cock. "Did you want  something?"

You nod and lean forward another inch.

"All right," he concedes, pumping himself before subtly tugging you down. "Just a taste, honey. Since you've been so good."

He leads your mouth to him and without a moment's hesitation, you outstretch your tongue, and drag it along the underside.

You revel in the way you feel him twitch. In the way he exhales a deep breath through parted lips while moving his fingers to your hair, guiding you closer but not too close. Just enough to get him on your tastebuds.

You hum when you reach the tip, eager to indulge in the pre-cum already beading in pearly drops. And the vibrations from your eager appreciation make the muscles in his stomach quiver as he curses your name.

However, you barely get the chance to wrap your mouth around him before he's yanking on your hair, and straightening you back up.

"What did I say?" he hisses. "Don't be greedy, Dot."

"I'm sorry," you whisper, swallowing the bit of him still lingering in your mouth. "M'sorry, won't do it again."

"No, you won't. Or I'll go back on my promise."

"No," you whine, needy fingers wrapping around his wrist to keep him close. "No, won't do it again. I promise."

You know he’s amused with your desperation, and even though you're slipping fast, he can't help but be entertained. "We'll see, little one."

With a fervent motion of your head, you scramble back to the pillows to lay down, legs spreading as if to invite him in.

He smirks as he strokes his cock a time or two more while settling himself between your thighs. You imagine he could have you in a number of ways, a plethora of positions. But he chooses this. He chooses to see your face this first time. To see every ounce of pleasure etched within your features.

And truth be told, you don't mind. You could stare at him forever.

"Do you have any condoms?" he asks next, dipping down to press his lips to yours for only a second. "Or would you prefer to go without?"

You consider this. You're on birth control and you do have a bit of a creampie kink, so you shake your head. 

"Without," you answer quickly before lifting an eyebrow. "Unless you'd like to?"

"No," he chuckles, placing a kiss to your nose this time. "Just wanted to make sure. Promised to take care of you, and that's what I plan to do."

Your heart flutters.

"Okay, gonna need you to be good, honey," he tells you now, large palm landing on your hip to steady you. "Gonna need you to take me and do as I say, all right? And I'll make it worth it."

"I will," you agree quickly, fingers traveling up the dips in his arms, ghosting over each muscle until you reach his shoulders. "Be so good, Har, promise."

"Uh-uh." His hand smacks against your inner thigh in warning before his thick eyebrow cocks up. "S'not my name, darling. Not right now."

Curious as to what he might mean, you study him for only a moment before you realize.

"I'm sorry, Sir."

Just like that, something in his demeanor switches. 

Truth be told, the name doesn't do much for you. But you revel in the way he feeds off it. Find absolute euphoria in the way he lights up at your obedience until you want nothing more than to please him again. To call him anything he wants as long as he keeps looking at you like that.

"Good girl," he growls beneath a deep breath before he's bringing his cock closer.

He starts by dragging it along your clit, making you jolt and buck before his hand splays across your stomach to force you back down.

"No," he says simply, eyes fixated on the torture he's currently implementing. 

He does it again, letting your swollen, puffy clit jump from the slight brush of his tip while he drags it through your arousal and shifts forward.

"Breathe," he orders next, stealing a quick glance at your puckered lips and wide eyes. “All right?”

“Yes, Sir.”

He slides in slowly, pushing past your tight walls, coaxing the muscles to stretch to his size.

At first, it's nothing more than a soft, easy sensation. Relaxing, in a sense as it aids the ache and fills the void his fingers left behind.

Then...he goes deeper. 

And this is what you'd been waiting for. The slight tension and subtle burn as your body is forced to accommodate him. You're thankful he goes slow. Not just because of the pain. But because you both want to watch.

You want to watch the way he pulls your body apart. Wanna watch him disappear into your tight hole that pulls him in. Wanna watch the way you flutter and clench and claim him the way he’s claiming you.

"Oh, that's my fucking girl," he groans to himself. "Fucking hell, Dot. Didn’t think you’d be so tight."

"Yeah, well…never had someone like you before," you tease, gauging your body's reaction by slowly rolling your hips up. 

"Yeah?" His hand lands on your throat, smoothing up the sides of your neck until he can squeeze a gasp from your lips. “Never, huh?”

You shake your head and with one quick thrust, he bottoms out, forcing a strangled cry as you arch into him.

“Never had someone stretch this pretty pussy the way it deserves, yeah?” He tsks again. “What a fucking shame.”

He rears back, and the pain and the pleasure that follow him out make your chest cave in.

However, he’s quickly driving himself back in before you can complain, pushing past the fluttering muscles once more as you keen and rake your nails down the blanket.

"Harry," you breathe, his name like a lifeline as you drown in his sin. 

But it earns you another firm smack to your outer thigh as he grunts his disapproval into your neck. "No," he warns before nipping just below your jaw. "You know better."

But really…you don’t. "Sir...please," you amend.

"Hm. S'a good girl," he praises. "Knew you'd behave for me, yeah? My perfect little toy—"

A rather debauched moan rips from between your gritted teeth as his hips ram into yours. You can feel him everywhere. In your stomach, in your head, in your heart. His legs against yours, his chest against yours, his entire body against yours until you're almost convinced he's gonna become one with your bloodstream.

Not that you'd mind.

His arm slips beneath you once more in order to lift you up and provide him with a new angle. Then, he thrusts himself into you again as your mouth hangs open in a silent gasp for air.

"There she is, that's what you needed. Yeah, little one?' He does it again, brushing against that one spot that makes your toes curl. "The other boys never did it, did they?"

You whine, knees bending besides his hips as you attempt to follow after him when he pulls back. 

But he's quick to tut and knock you back down onto your ass. "No. You don't rush me, darling. We do this my way. On my time. If I wanna stay here and fuck you nice and slow, then you’ll behave, and you’ll fucking take me.”

You’d like to agree, but he’s thrusting himself back in before you can.

"You will thank me for taking my time," he continues in a coarse cadence that seems to reverberate from his chest. "You will thank me...for being so goddamn good to you. And you will thank me…for doing it right."

"Harry, please—" you just about wail, hands finding his arms as you grasp on for dear life.

But the fingers around your throat tighten until the edges of your vision begin to blur.

"There you fucking go again," he growls, stilling his rhythmic attacks as he meets your eye. He seems to enjoy watching your focus go fuzzy. "Starting to think you like to be punished, hm? And here I thought you had a praise kink."

You clutch onto his wrist, nails scratching along the veins in his arm as he pounds into you at a harder pace.

But you don't mind. You enjoy watching him give into the voices inside his head. Enjoy the way his chocolate brown curls sweep across his forehead, the way his eyebrows weave together and the muscles in his jaw constrict.

For a 34-year-old man, he seems to possess quite a bit of stamina. He'd mentioned earlier his enjoyment for running and exercising, detailing his rather excessive and diligent routine.

And you'd smirked because you'd assumed he was showing off or because he was trying to stay ahead of the inevitable "dad-bod" in his future.

But now you understand why he's really so meticulous. He's a long way from looking his age. Apart from some subtle, but soft crinkles near his eyes and a few gray hairs that peek through the auburn waves, he looks rather youthful. 

And his body. You swallow another noise as you let your hungry gaze trail over every inch, every muscle, every quiver in his thighs as he braces himself above you.

Sir feels like a more appropriate title to you now. Because he is. He is your superior in this moment A man to be respected and revered. Someone who not only knows better,.but knows you. Knows your body and how to play it like an instrument. 

There's something exciting about submitting to him. Something tantalizing about being at his mercy. Most of the other men you've been with have felt more like your equals than anything else. Which you haven't minded in the least bit.

But the way Harry has managed to fit you into the submissive, subservient role so quickly suggests that perhaps...this is where you were always meant to be.

Beneath him.

"Oh, honey," he coos, a mix of condescension and amusement. "Can feel you squeezin' me. Need it so bad, don't you? Need to come, hm?"

"Yes. Yes," you whisper, nuzzling your face into his neck, lips eagerly pressing into the salty skin at your disposal. "Please, Ha—Sir. Please let me come. Can't...can't hold it—"

"You will,” he says before he’s grabbing hold of your wrist and hosting it above your head. Burying into the pillow and preventing you from reaching for your clit. “Forget it, Princess. Told you to take me. So you will. Exactly how I tell you.” 

"Sir—"

"I said no. I plan to keep you here for quite some time. Plan to feel you coming around my cock as many times as I see fit. And I expect you to behave for me the way you promised. Can you do that? Or do I need to stop?"

"No," you gasp, tears springing to your eyes at the very thought. "No, no, please—"

"Then what are you going to do?"

You swallow a moan and lift your chin proudly. "Take it."

A pleased smile crawls across his face as he hums and dips down to press his mouth to yours. "There she is," he murmurs, nipping at your bottom lip. "My good girl. Try to remember that, yeah? Or I'll keep you here all day."

However, that’s something else you wouldn't exactly mind, and you shiver as he pushes your knee into your chest.

"Fucking hell, Dot," he mumbles, eyes falling back down to where you're coating his cock. "Oh, my perfect toy. Look at the way you treat me, honey. Treat me so well, fucking soaking me, aren't you—"

"Yes, Yes, please…"

"I know. I know, little one. Feels so good to be filled, yeah? To be fucked the right way—"

"God, yes. More...please—"

"More, huh? Need more? Need me to make it better? Need me to fucking take—"

Suddenly, your phone rings.

The soft, melodic chime cuts through Harry’s vulgar response, bringing the moment to a close as his thrusts falter and he glances over.

God, you hate that stupid, evil, sadistic machine. Right now, you wish you'd never bought it. You wish you could throw it again the wall until it shatters into a thousand fucking pieces so as long as he just keeps going.

Instead, he searches your nightstand for the small device before he's releasing your leg in order to reach for it. 

"No, Har," you plead, attempting to grab onto his hand. "Just let it go to voicemail, it's fine—"

"But that wouldn't be very polite, now, would it?" he tuts, glancing over the screen. "And I think you need to take this, darling."

"Harry, please—"

"Shh," he says sharply. “You're gonna take this phone call and you're gonna use your word. And then, and you're gonna come for me."

His thumb hovers over the green button and he guides the phone to your ear. 

"And you're not gonna make a fucking sound," he adds, dropping his voice to a threatening hiss before pressing the receiver to your ear. "Or I fucking stop. Do you understand?"

You do your best to nod, and he smiles before tapping the screen.

Through a slight quiver, you say, "Hello?"

"Hey! Long time no talk, babe. How are you?"

Your eyes just about pop out of your head.

Atta.

Her cheerful tone and eager greeting make the blood drain from your face as you look up at the man hovering above you.

"Speak," he mouths with a wicked grin while nodding his chin at you. 

But you can't. You physically cannot get the words to come out of your mouth as Harry keeps the device glued to the side of your head.

"H...hi," you stammer, forcing a more confident cadence. "I'm...good. How...how are you?"

"Oh, I'm good. Good, yeah," your sister replies, and you hear a bit of shuffling. "Been working a lot. Got today off, which is nice. God, you'd never believe how much shit we have to go through since we changed our filing system—"

"Mhm," you reply right as Harry rams his hips into yours.

You gasp and quickly turn your head away from the phone in an attempt to keep the excitable noise from making it into the microphone. 

However, he uses his other hand to grasp onto your jaw and force you back. "No," he whispers, shooting you a stern look of warning. "You know better."

"—which is wild because we've been using the same program since '08," Atta is saying, although you can hardly hear her over the imminent pleasure rushing through your veins. "But...whatever. Once we're done, it'll make things so much easier. Which will be nice. I can cut back on my hours—"

"Yeah, mhm," you repeat, and it's outrageously strained as Harry pulls himself out, leaving you depraved and so goddamn empty.

You have to fight the urge to cry out for him, glancing down at the string of arousal that follows his cock. And it's almost too much for you to handle as you greedily reach for him once more.

However, he bats your hands away and brings his free fingers from your chin to your clit, rubbing into the sensitive nerves until you arch up.

"—so, yeah. What about you?"

Your eyes squeeze shut as that tightly wound ball of pleasure in your stomach expands. "I'm...I...good. I'm...good. You know, not...not a lot going on. At the moment."

Harry smirks to himself before sinking all the way back in and thrusting up.

Your lip fights its way between your teeth and you writhe beneath his chest while praying for the strength to stay quiet.

"Well...I guess no news is good news, yeah?" she chuckles. "Oh, hey, speaking of which...I heard that Harry's in town."

That's not the only thing he's in. 

"Oh?" you squeak, placing a palm on Harry's chest almost as if in retaliation. "He is?"

"Yeah. Saw it on Facebook," she answers, and you hear her move around. "Figured he might try to reach out. I know you guys are still on good terms, right?"

"Me and Harry?" you repeat pointedly, garnering a curious look from the aforementioned man. "Uh...we're...yeah. I guess. But we’re not…that close."

He grins.

"Well...I just thought I'd let you know in case he does," she says, and your lashes flutter shut as the guilt begins to find you.

"Would it be weird...if he did?" you ask before the patterns being traced against your clit make you whimper.

Terrified, you quickly cough in an attempt at burying the sound, but Atta doesn't seem to hear. 

"I mean...maybe? I don't know. He and I are fine, I think. And I know you two were friends. I guess you could at least...check on him. Make sure he's doing okay."

"Yeah," you breathe, sneaking a glance up. "I'm...I'm sure he's doing just fine."

Harry smiles once more before moving his palm to your thigh and pressing it into the bed to spread you at a different angle. 

"I hope," Atta sighs. "Anyway, I wanted to call and check in. Just to make sure everything is going okay for you—"

"Mhm, yeah. I'm...I'm glad you did," you blubber while attempting to send Harry a pointed look. You're close. So fucking close, and if he keeps going...

"Are you sure you're all right? You sound a bit flustered—"

"Yes. Yes, yes, I'm..." Your head shakes quickly, nails scratching down Harry's chest in warning. He needs to stop. He needs to stop or you won't make it. "I'm fine. I'm...a little under the weather, but I'm—" 

Suddenly, he sheathes himself inside your cunt, face burying in your neck with a groan as your entire body shivers.

"Are you sure? You kind of sound like you're in pain—"

"Listen, Atta, I...I gotta go—" you gasp, so close to your orgasm that you can practically taste it. “I’m sorry—”

"Oh, yeah. Hey, text me, okay? Just let me know that you're all right—"

"Mhm, yeah, I will—fuck—"

It happens before you can stop it. Ripping through every muscle and fiber in your body as you rake your fingers down Harry's back and choke on a moan.

Thankfully for you, Harry has already ended the call and thrown the phone to the other side of the room so he can loop his arm beneath your hips and tug you up into his body.

"Go," he breathes. "Give it to me. Come on, little one. Just like that. Good fucking girl, just like that. Let me feel you—"

Your room fills with the sound of his name, dancing effortlessly between the whimpers that follow.

It feels like you've touched heaven. A sensation so overwhelming and euphoric that you don't even realize his hand has returned to your throat. Don't realize he's squeezing your neck in his tight fist as he comes, filling your cunt with everything he has to give you.

You don't even realize you can't breathe, but you love it. Love the way he presses his teeth into your shoulder and presses his body into your chest. Until you're trapped against the mattress while you live through the high. 

Every joint in your body aches. Radiating pain and pleasure all at once as you hook your leg over his hip and snake your arms around his neck.

And you keep him inside of you for what feels like hours. Even after you've regained a bit of consciousness. And a bit of common sense.

Perhaps the moment he pulls out, you'll realize the mistake you've made. You’ll realize that this isn't a secret you can keep. Or a choice that you can ever choose again. And maybe he’ll realize it, too.

But until then…

You’re happy to have your Harry back.

~ Masterlist

Taglist: @littlenatilda @prettythingsworld @heartateasee @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @monicaalexandraaa

@cinnamonone @triski73 @lemoncrushh @vamprry @lady-lamb21

@lillefroe @kirstiea05 @ribbonknives @lunaharrygurl @harringtonhundreds

@swiftmendeshoran @sundresstyles @eldahae @becauseheartsgetbroken-hs

@hannahdressedasabanana @sykostyles @lukesaprince @daphnesutton @love-letters-to-uranus

@lovrave @nuggetdean @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @babegoals @lc-fics

[thatgirlstrawberry]

See this?

That’s the look of pure horror, when his girlfriend’s father aka Aaron Hotchner storms into the working space the chief landed them (just imagine they are on a case somewhere far away) and LITERALLY seething and *angry vocalising* his disagreement with theirs relationship, because Spencer’s 5-10 (just age gap idc) older (reader’s over 18 for dear life) and she just started working there (7months). Derek has to physically restrain him from hurting his not so soon son in law. He calms down soon enough to get to work, but they���ll have a big talk about it, including Rossi. Cuz this man can’t hold a secret for dear life. I can imagine the ANGRY FACE Hotch does 🤬🤯 when he finds out about it. Also can you make it a lil bit longer with spice? Like after the big disapproving talk with Hotch, that they freely have a long hot makeout sesh, not worried about her dad finding out about them. In their apartment, where he’s sitting with his back to the headboard, hands tightly squeezing her hips while she’s whining on his lap.

I Hope this text above was coherent enough for you to consider making something with it. I hope that both sides of your pillow are cold. Ily<3

YESSS OMG

Not-so-happy Hotch

In which Hotch finds out that Spencer and Y/N have been seeing each other and is not happy about it

Warnings: angst, angry angry Hotch, spoilers from season 5, age gap (9 years), reader is 18+, heavy making out near the end + grinding kinda, sadness a lil bit, fluff, lmk if I missed anything!

Spencer Reid x fem!hotch!reader

Y/N sat on her bed alone, in the hotel room. The team were in Massachusetts investigating the murders of a variety of women. It was her third case. She’d only been there for about 7 months.

She’d been dating Spencer for 4.

The day she walked into the BAU in her little white blouse and tight black jeans, Spencer had his eyes on her. Not just because of her body but because of her bright personality. He couldn’t believe how wonderful she was even after what she went through.

He obviously knew her before she started on the job, she was Hotch’s daughter. She first fell for him when she was 18. The day Haley died. She was with Jack and her in the house. Foyet had tied her to a chair and had her watch him kill Haley.

It messed her up. It made her want to stop people who did the same to other people and their families. She had originally wanted to be a teacher but everything she saw that day changed her entire life.

Spencer was the one to untie her because her father moved right past her, putting a finger to his lips with his gun raised in the other direction.

Y/N felt her mother’s blood splatter all over her face and clothes as Foyet shot her in the head. She squeezed her eyes shut and let a muffled scream out over the gag he had tied around her head. The sound of Haley’s body hitting the floor made her flinch.

She didn’t dare open her eyes but she could tell Foyet moved closer to her. “I’m gonna go find that little brother of yours and you can watch me kill him too.”

And he moved her mother’s body.

Y/N cried and didn’t open her eyes until she knew he was out of the room. She tried so desperately to get the cloth out of her mouth but nothing worked.

Moments later, her dad appeared. She widened her eyes and whined. He let a tear slip from his eye and pressed his finger against his lips.

He moved past her and looked forward, making sure that his gun was pointed forward. Then all the noises from fighting and gunshots were heard.

She let out more screams hearing her father fight for his life. It was almost like she couldn’t breathe., she was screaming so hard.

Then she heard them tumbling down the stairs. Punch after punch.

“Reid, get her out of here!” She heard the voice of her uncle Derek Morgan behind her.

Suddenly, Spencer Reid appeared in front of her, making sure not scare her. “You’re okay. You’re okay, look at me, Y/N.” Spencer rushed as his hands tore at the knots around her hands and feet.

She looked into his eyes trying to stop the tears. When her hands were untied she reached up and tore the cloth from her mouth. When her feet were untied, Spencer wrapped his arms around and pulled her up from the chair.

She buried her head into his shoulder trying to contain her sobs as he carried her out of the house. “Is my Dad okay!?” She asked when he set her down on the ground. “Is he dead too— what about Jack— where is Jack!?”

Spencer shook his head and watched her eyes dart around. Her chest heaved but she was barely taking in any air. “Y/N, stop. Look at me, please.” Truth was, he didn’t know if Hotch was dead or alive.

The woman stopped looking everywhere else and settled on his eyes. “Take a deep breath in.” He held her hands tightly in his. He watched her body shake as she did what she was told. “Now let it out.” She nodded and squeezed his hands a let her deep breath out through her rounded lips. “Good. Keep breathing just like that.”

Y/N had always had a little girl crush on her father’s coworker. He was cute and awkward and had a nice smile. So, when she started working there, she was able to get to know him better.

“Everyone, meet our new liaison, Y/N Hotchner.” Garcia squealed and clapped, Morgan smiled and went in for a hug and Spencer stood back with his hands in his pockets with a small smile on his face.

Hotch turned to the rest of the team. “She’ll start out as a liaison but we’re working to get up to profiling level. She is a part of this team just like all of you.”

Days after that, past her mother’s funeral, she left town. She went to college, pretty much reset her entire life. One day, after all her classes she went to get coffee. All by herself. She didn’t have many friends anyway.

While she sat by the window with a book and her coffee, someone familiar walked in. She didn’t see him at first but when she heard his voice across the shop, she looked up. “Spencer?” She called.

He turned around and was pleasantly surprised. “Y/N!” He raised his brows. “What— how—“ he paused. “Hi, how are you?”

She pressed her lips together. He had the same look on his face that everyone did when they asked her that question. Pity. “Y’know, I’m okay.” She shrugged.

Spencer nodded. “G-good.” Y/N took the pause to look at him. His hair was longer, stubble was grown out, he was really fucking pretty.

She inhaled deeply, a wave of confidence washing over her. “Can I… buy you a coffee?”

Spencer tilted his head with a smile. “No.” He shook his head. Y/N visibly deflated. “I-I already bought one.” He leaned in a bit closer. “You can buy me a chocolate donut with sprinkles though.”

She scoffed jokingly. “Wow. Begging a broke college student for food.” She rolled her eyes with a teasing smile, pulling her wallet from her back pocket and walking up to the counter. Spencer blew a raspberry and followed behind her.

In her hotel room, Y/N pulled her knees up to her chest waiting for his knock at her hotel door. Her heart always raced when she realized that they could be caught by her father. But she loved Spencer and she fully believed that nothing could stop her from seeing him. She knew her dad would probably have a big problem with it. Y/N was now 24 and Spencer was almost 33. She knew also that he didn’t want her dating anyone for that matter.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

She smiled and bit her lip, climbing out of the bed. She walked to the door and opened it. “Yes?” She raised her eyebrows, trying to keep her composure as Spencer stood there with a small smirk and a small pink box in his hands.

“I have a delivery for a Ms. Y/N? Is she here?” Spencer asked, his eyes gliding down her body.

She shrugged and leaned against the doorframe. “Depends. What’s in the box and what do I owe my amazing delivery man?”

Spencer stepped forward a bit. “There’s a donut in the box. And you owe me a few kisses as the delivery fee.” He smiled, his eyes were soft— puppy dog like.

She bit her lip. “Well in that case…” She pulled him into to room by his tie and shut the door quietly.

Unbeknownst to both of them, Hotch was standing at the end of the hall watching this.

.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.

Y/N was outside talking to a few news reporters who were asking questions. Her dad and Derek went to check out the latest crime scene. When she saw the SUV roll back into the parking lot of the station where base of operations was set up.

She nodded at a man with a microphone who had asked her a question. “Everyone should stay inside, lock all doors and windows. Don’t answer the door after 7. Be safe and if you know anything, call the number on the screen.”

She walked away towards the SUB and furrowed her eyebrows when Hotch got out of the car hurriedly.

“Hotch— wait! Hotch, you gotta cool down!” She heard Derek’s voice from the other side.

She furrowed her brows and tilted her head to the side. “Dad, what’s wrong-“ He pushed past her and walked towards doors of the station.

Derek rushed past her too. “What the hell?” She whispered, following them.

“Hotch, just give the kid a damn second!” Derek called after him.

Their voice disappeared as they entered the station. Y/N’s eyes widened when she realized “the kid” was Spencer.

Inside, Spencer was drawing lines across the map of Massachusetts where the murders happened when he heard Derek yelling. Luckily, the place was clear of cops because they were in a small town and all eight cops were assigned to keep watch of a few people.

“Spencer Reid, get your ass here right now!” His voice boomed and all of the blood seemed to drain from his face. He whipped his head around in shock and turned away from the board nervously. “Mind telling me why I saw you go into my daughter’s room last night?” He asked, his hands placed on his hips.

Y/N walked up beside Morgan who had the bridge of his nose pinched between his fingers. Her eyes desperately tried to connect to her boyfriend’s but the poor man was so scared he didn’t look anywhere but at Hotch. “I-I…uh…”

Hotch walked forward closer to him a little too quickly for Derek, Spencer and Y/N’s comfort. “You better give me a real good excuse and o don’t wanna hear what I’m thinking.” He shook his head, his voice low and intimidating.

Spencer didn’t say anything so Hotch all but lunged forward and Derek reached and grabbed his arms, pulling him back.

“Dad, stop!” Y/N cried.

Derek pulled him back more. “Come on, Hotch. Take a breath.”

“Let me go, Morgan.” He shook his head and shut his eyes.

The man shook his head too. “Not unless you can truthfully promise me that you won’t hit the kid.” He paused for a moment and when he didn’t get an answer, nodded. “Guess I’m not lettin’ you go then.”

Rossi walked into the building with JJ and Prentiss behind him, all of their faces contorting in confusion. “What the hell is this?” The man asked, holding his hands out.

Hotch didn’t spare a glance at them. “Reid’s messing around with my daughter.” He said.

Spencer shook his head. “I-I’m not messing around with her, I love her!” He blurted. The room was silent and it seemed to make Hotch even more mad.

He turned, ripping himself away from Morgan, pointing at his daughter. “Outside. Now.” He walked past her and towards the doors, pushing Rossi’s hand away when he tried to reach for his shoulder.

Y/N looked around at everyone, holding eye contact a little longer with Spencer before sighing and turning to leave the station.

When she got outside, her father was there with his arms crossed and a stone angry look on his face.

“Dad—“

“You are not to see him in a romantic way ever. Or I will fire you from this job.” He saw how her eyes softened and tears filled them.

She shook her head. “Do you think— I mea do you think I’m just messing around, dad?”

“Yes, I do. Y/N, It’s wreckless and unprofessional.” He nodded.

Y/N squinted. “You think so little of me? That I would let him play me like some game?”

“You are a child, Y/N—“

“I am a grown ass woman and I’ll see whoever I want to see.” She stopped him.

“He’s almost 10 years older than you!” Hotch scoffed.

She groaned and covered her face. “We are both mature adults. I don’t think it’s that much of a problem, dad.”

He stopped moving and looked at her. “I mean It, Y/N. Stop seeing him or I will fire you.”

Y/N have him a challenging look. “Do you want my badge now, then?” She raised her eyebrows and stuck her hand on her hip.

Hotch seethed. His daughter was just like him and it sucked.

“Get back to work for now but it’s mine when we get back to Quantico, understand?”

She shook her head with a roll of her eyes and pushed past him.

“And I don’t want you near him either!”

.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.

Case closed. And now they were on the way back. The entire jet was uncomfortably silent.

Y/N didn’t show it on the way back but she didn’t think that her father was bluffing anymore. They landed on the air strip and when everyone was off, her eyes filled with tears.

It was only her and her father left. She pulled her badge from her coat pocket and walked up to him, holding it out.

He looked at the badge for a moment and then at her. He sighed heavily and turned away from her, exiting the jet.

She raced after him. “So, what— you’re not firing me?” She called. He stopped and turned to her.

“Get Spencer and meet me in my office.”

He left her there, a billion possibilities racing through her head. Would he fire Spencer instead? Would he fire both of them?

.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.

“Spence!” Y/N whisper shouted as she walked behind him.

He flinched and turned. “H-hi.” He nodded. He hadn’t spoken to her since the day Hotch almost beat him up.

“Uh… my dad wants us in his office.” She nodded.

He nodded and visibly grew nervous. “I- okay.”

Y/N stopped him from walking and tilted her head. “Spencer, wait.” He looked down at her. “Don’t be… scared. I won’t let him do anything. And he won’t fire you. You’re too good at this.” She smiled, placing her hand in his.

He opened his mouth but then closed it before deciding that he was going to say something. “I-is there any way we can hold hands until we get to Hotch’s office?”

She tilted her head to the side and didn’t respond, she only squeezed his hand tighter.

.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.

Y/N, for Spencer’s safety not for her comfort, net go of him when they reached her father’s office. And she walked in first. Spencer followed behind her, his nervous stare causing him to move quicker and knock over a file that was on the little table near the door.

Y/N saw Rossi standing in the corner. She furrowed her brows and tilted her head.

She looked back at Spencer before looking at her dad who still looked very angry. They stood side by side and in silence until Hotch spoke.

“Sit.” He pointed at the two chairs in front of the desk. Spencer almost immediately fell into the chair, Y/N slowly sat down in the other one.

They were enveloped in silence once again. Hotch sighed and looked down at his desk. “Listen,” He started. Y/N bit her lip. “I do not approve of your… relationship in any way.” He shook his head. “But, I can’t afford to lose either of you. This job needs you.”

Rossi shook his head. “This team needs you.” He crossed his arms.

Spencer and Y/N looked at each other. “I think your relationship is premature, unprofessional. I expect you to at least think about a break up for the good of the team.” He nodded. Y/N looked down at her lap. “Y/N, you may go.”

“But-“

“Now, Y/N.”

She looked at Rossi who nodded his head comfortingly, telling her silently that Reid would be okay.

She got up from the chair and took one last look at her boyfriend before leaving.

She decided she would go home because there was no way her father’s little talk wouldn’t take more than and hour.

.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.

Y/N paced in her kitchen, worried for her boyfriend’s well being. She hadn’t heard from him in two hours.

She had changed from her work clothes into a shirt that belonged to Spencer and a pair of pajama pants. She had also cooked because she knew Spencer would not have eaten between the time he left the BAU and when he got to her apartment.

She heard the familiar knocks at her door and rushed to it. She flung it open and there stood her boyfriend who looked sad. Y/N pulled him inside and wrapped her arms around him wordlessly. He leaned down to bury his head in the crook of her neck.

“Are you hungry?” She whispered, her nails lightly gliding over his upper back. He shook his head. “Do you want to go talk?”

He nodded and she pulled away from him, keeping her hand in his. She walked with him to her bedroom.

He climbed up on the bed first, his back pressing against the headboard. Y/N began to sit down next to him but he pulled her over his lap, hands settling on her thighs. “Spence…” She brushed a piece of hair out of his face.

“He Uh…” He cleared his throat. “He told me that he wanted me to break up with you. And then when I told him that I couldn’t do that, he told me not to hurt you or he would ruin my life.”

Y/N tilted her head to the side and rubbed his cheek bones with her thumbs. “I know you’d never hurt me Spence.” She shook her head.

He smiled and leaned in a bit. She kissed his lips slowly. “I don’t care that he doesn’t want us to be together.” She shook her head.

“Me either.” He nodded, trying to catch her lips again. She smiled and wrapped her arms around his neck, his hands found her hips.

Their kiss deepened and his hands guided her body back and forth over his lap. A little noise came up from her throat and she accidentally bit his lip. She pulled away when he hissed and giggled quietly. “I’m sorry, baby.”

He let out a deep chuckle, squeezing her hips. “Bite me as much as you want. You know I love your mouth.” He whispered in her ear seductively. Y/N’s eyes all but rolled into the back of her head.

She whined and leaned back in, his tongue entering her mouth almost immediately. She absolutely loved his kisses. He always tasted like peppermints and chocolate.

His hands moved her back and forth again, she tried to ignore the feeling of his hardness underneath her. She moaned into his mouth, her fingers tugging at the hair on the nape of his neck.

Desperation to just be close to each other enveloped them. When they broke away for just a second, his name left her mouth breathlessly. It wasn’t to get his attention, it was to tell him that she was scared. She had been scared of losing him.

They felt closer than ever before, both of them on fire for the other. They had no care I. The world of who approved of them or not.

.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.

Helloooooo i hope you enjoyed this! If it’s not how you expected I will happily rewrite it to the best of my ability!

I tried to add some flashback scenes to make it longer. Also, I made Hotch really mean bc I didn’t know how else to write him but I love him so much!!

Thank you for requesting @thbidkbutok !!! Luv you babes!

Also, feel free to request anything you want! In my ask box or private message!

Oop i forgot the Taglist lol

Taglist: @mrsgweasley

@tuesday-yellowxx

@blue-willows

@monzarella

@criminallymagic

@mermateyepmatewithte

@lipstixstain

@urlovelydarling

@dreatine

@f-me-reid

@fantastic-fans

@aleyda5

@thatsonezesty13

@creativeuser101

@d0ntfeedaftermidnight

@jacksonms31

@scorpiofangirl1109

@perseuswaves

@baseballmama35

@lilybarnesposts

@s-udaku-my-love

@melifluorei-d

@lavenderrway

@fairy-alix

@whompwhompbang

@callsignwidow

@regulus-black-223048

@mushy-mushroom04

@v-i-o-l-e-t

@livviex

@fudosl

@rintheemolion

@abbygraceasd

@yuulina-vre

@oatmealisweird

@steveharringtonssidepiece

@ameliaxcriminalminds

@miaxx03

@moyo5653

@stevenknightmarc

@honey-on-my-lips

[welcometololaland]

almost uploaded a picture of my bank statement instead of this header! happy days!

thanks for the tags @hippolotamus @kiwiana-writes @happiness-of-the-pursuit @rmd-writes

@nancygillianmvp @terramous @tellmegoodbye @freneticfloetry @beautifulhigh

@orchidscript @myheartalivewrites and @strandnreyes (don't think that was a real tag but i'm taking it anyway to force you to love me).

1. How many works do you have on Ao3?

49 (last time it was 46 but i feel like that isn't enough of a difference? disappointed in myself dfhskjh)

2. What's your Ao3 bodycount word count?

1,119,086 which does include some co-writes, but I also have around 200k of unposted WIP in my google docs so i'm counting it (including a fully written fic - someone put their hands around my neck and force me to edit it PLEASE).

3. Which fandoms do you write for?

red white and royal blue, 911 lone star, top gun maverick (flirting with winter's orbit always)

4. Top 5 fics by kudos?

the order of these has changed but not the identity:

Speak for Yourself (RWRB) (you know when eminem said he'd never be able to top My Name Is? this is my version of that)

Fifty First Dates (RWRB) (oodie agenda reigns supreme)

The RIng-In (Lone Star) (otherwise, lone star is in danger of being eviscerated from this top 5 lmao)

(Not) A Cinderella Story (RWRB) (NDAs are hot, apparently)

Cursed is a State of Mind (RWRB) (cursed caffeine is the main drawcard let's not lie)

5. Do you respond to comments?

i try my absolute best to. i am currently really behind and i apologise for that (the problem is, i reply to comments before i post anything and i haven't posted anything in ages).

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

serious answer - Contaminated

my answer - oh baby i'm a fool for you because we never find out if they actually watch twilight and that's a damn shame

7. What is the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

literally everything else - i don't really do open endings or sad endings! in the words of the great philosopher, skepta: "nah, that's not me."

8. Do you get hate on fics?

i used to, but i haven't in ages! thank god for that.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

yes, although i have to say i've been moving away from pwp lately. i feel my best smut is written into longer fics where the sex serves a plot or characterisation purpose within the frame of the overarching narrative.

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

yes, a RWRB/LS but i never finished it. ALTA is a veronica mars inspired tarlos fic which kind of feels like a crossover at times.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

not to my knowledge :)

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

yes! Phonography (Lone Star) has been translated, as has Baby, Make Your Move (Lone Star) and Warm Whispers (Lone Star). I'm very grateful to the incredible people who have made these translations happen - you are so talented.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic?

yes, many with @dustratcentral. I also wrote a chapter of a co-written fic with a whole bunch of incredible RWRB authors called never the same twice.

@rmd-writes and I have created (Un)Professional Services and (upcoming) Call Me (By Your Name).

The Rainbow Fish was co-written with @strandnreyes.

I love co-writing so much and I am always open to anyone who wants to give it a go!

14. What's your all time favourite ship?

me + my unposted wips.

15. What's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

probably the aforementioned crossover which was apparently also my answer last time.

16. What are your writing strengths?

i'm allergic to giving myself compliments but i would say maybe dialogue/banter and worldbuilding.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

keeping things short. also, exposition.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

kinda scared to because i don't speak any other languages and i'm so hesitant to annoy my very talented multi-lingual friends with my annoying questions.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

we don't talk about that.

20. Favourite fic you've written?

probably still Love Game because the experience was just so amazing and i never wanted to stop writing it.

heaps of people have already done this so leaving an open tag and also a couple of suggestions under the cut but apologies if you've already participated or been tagged 7 million times:

@bonheur-cafe @theghostofashton @thebumblecee @indomitable-love @eclectic-sassycoweyes

@tailoredshirt @vineofroses @liminalmemories21 @mikibwrites @birdclowns

@ladytessa74 @basilsunrise @cold-blooded-jelly-doughnut @rosedavid @sanjuwrites

@alrightbuckaroo @three-drink-amy @marjansmarwani @dumbpeachjuice @doublel27

@lemonlyman-dotcom @blueink3 @ambiguouspenny @clottedcreamfudge @emmalostinwonderland

@sail-not-drift @inexplicablymine @celeritas2997 @cricketnationrise @reyesstrand

@goodways @carlos-in-glasses @heartstringsduet @sunshinestrand @sherryvalli

[eternal-love]

Austin and Me

“Birthday.”

“Wife to the ‘king’. Icon to the world. Destined for more.”

Summary: At 18 years old, she fell in love with Austin, at 20 years old, she became his wife, by 22, she was his doll. In which Cynthia’s life changed drastically after falling head over heels with a man that promised her the moon and the stars. She takes us down the memory lane of what could’ve been— the perfect marriage.

Inspired by the book: Elvis and Me by Priscilla Presley.

I do not condemn any of the portrayals I decide to do about certain people, it’s just fanfiction. And it would be divided in parts.

English isn’t my first language so I’m trying my best!

MASTERLIST

With my pregnancy and everything that had been going on in my life— taking care of Lori, pondering about movie roles I wouldn’t get because I was pregnant, Austin, Callum, my head was spinning. Literally. So much that I forgot my own birthday.

But one morning as I overslept, I hot woken up by Austin and Lori singing happy birthday to me, I started waking up. Rubbing my eyes before laughing.

“Happy birthday to you!~” They finished the song very off-key.

They brought the cake to me to blow the candles. It was VERY BAD decorated, sprinkles everywhere, blue icing all over the place, star candles.

“Make a wish.” Austin smiled as he held the cake, Lori on the other hand had crawled on the bed and wrapped her arms around me.

I didn’t even know what to wish for, so I only blew the candles and smiled. “Thank you so much. It’s a beautiful cake.”

“I did it, mommy!” Lori practically yelled at my ear.

“Oh, my cake boss.” I pulled her in for a more tight hug and kissed her head.

In gifts, well— that year Austin got me another locket. It was for three photos, to put, Lori, the upcoming baby and his photo. Lori on the other hand, brought me a ton of drawings she had done. This was a very different birthday, I guess, it was the pregnancy that made me emotional.

I received a hundred messages and calls from peers, family members, co-stars— whatever. It was weird. 24 was a weird age. I definitely still felt 22, I still wanted to look 18, but sometimes I suspected that I wanted to be ten all over again.

I remembered my birthday parties growing up. Being the center of attention for at least an afternoon. My parents never denied me of birthday parties. Since I was three until I was ten I had parties every year. My parents were Mexicans, they liked showing me off.

I often looked at my old pictures, I looked so happy. Old videos were my favorite though. I saw my father holding me as my mom stood by his side. I didn’t remember the last time I spent a birthday with them. I knew that once I married it would all be different but it didn’t mean that I didn’t want familiarity.

I went out that day, I went to do grocery shopping. I should’ve been at the club now that I think about it. But anyways, I did what I had to do. Went through every single aisle, got what I needed. It was my relaxation.

After that I drove to McDonalds, I thought that it would be another lonely birthday. Just by myself, writing the same ‘Thank you!’ message to all who congratulated me. I parked and ate alone, then at about 4:30 PM I drove myself back to our house, it was a really long drive. I arrived at about 5:30. Why the fuck did we buy a house so goddamn away from actual LA?

I got out the car, carrying the bag. I shouldn’t even be doing this while pregnant. I took the keys and opened the door. The lights were off. But then I almost had a heart attack.

“Happy birthday!”

Everyone I cared for and loved were there. I dropped the grocery bag immediately because I flinched. Everyone laughed. I laughed too.

“Oh my God! You guys scared the shit out of me!” I placed a hand on my heart, shaking my head as I laughed.

Austin walked up to me, looking tall, lean— perfect. He could be a son of a bitch but my god, was he good-looking.

“To my bestest girl.” He said, looking down on me. He hugged me. I started crying. “Why’re you crying?” He pouted a little, bringing me closer to him.

I felt a little embarrassed when I heard everyone going ‘awww’ but I smiled as I wiped my tears. Austin wasn’t one for big reunions, for big parties, for having a lot of people in the house. But the fact that he took the time to invite a ton of people, decorate, BE HERE. I know it could be considered the bare minimum since he was my husband but to me it meant a lot. That he actually loved me, even if he didn’t always show it how I wanted.

I saw my mom and dad, my sisters. I kissed each of their cheeks. I missed them a lot. Jackie and Pattie, my beautiful sisters. We grew together. We saw each other in our worst moments.

It was good, perfect I would say. Austin had convinced my own father of helping him in the grill. And my father never really accepted Austin. That was a step. Until Callum arrived. What the hell was he doing here? Not that I didn’t want him here but I kinda— felt between the wall and the sword.

“I heard there was a party.” He said with a charming smile. Handing me a box. “My mum makes this cookies for you. She told me to give them to you. She ain’t making them for me anymore, just so you know. She likes you.”

Of course his mom liked me. Of course she did. Did she also knew that I was screwing her son behind my husband’s back? I don’t think so. And if she knew, she wouldn’t have made me these amazing cookies.

It was a good party. I was in the kitchen preparing burgers. Callum barged in.

“We need to talk.” Callum said.

I wanted to run away like a chicken without its head. I nodded, looking at him.

“I know that you won’t leave Austin. I’ve come to terms with that, believe me. I ain’t takin’ you away from him. I understand that you two are a family— and that you probably actually love him.”

I wanted to deny it but it was true.

“I’m sorry.” I whispered to him. I felt bad, I’m not going to lie.

I was the same scum Austin was.

“Hey. No, dont apologize. I’m no saint either, we’re all shitty here. Austin, you, me. We all knew. And I knew you were married. What else did I expect?”

There was a long silence, I wanted to speak, but what was I supposed to say?

“You’re still my friend.”

What a stupid thing came out my mouth. Jesus Fucking Christ. I wished someone had sown my mouth as a child.

“You’re my friend too.” Callum said awkwardly.

Well that was definitely embarrassing. I knew, I knew that we would screw again someday. You don’t simply end an affair just like this. An affair has to end with one last passionate night of love-making. But we would have to wait. At least until my baby was born.

We were all gathered around the dining room, I was sitting on a chair. Austin brought a cake with the candles lit. As everyone sang happy birthday and I could see their faces, regret, shame, guilt, started filling my mind. I stared between Austin and Callum, Austin held Lori in his arms while Callum only held a cup.

I started to wonder about my wish. What should I wish for?

To be clean again?

To have never stepped out my wedding vows?

To have never been disrespected by my own husband?

To have a perfect family?

To have a chance at acting?

To finally get what I want?

To be a child again?

As I blew the candles I thought of my wish:

I wish to be able to start again.

But even then. I knew it was impossible. I’ve made my bed. Might as well be delusional and think all of this could change just because I was childish enough to believe that a dumb birthday wish could turn true.

TODAY IS MY BIRTHDAY YALL and I wanted to do upload a new chapter of this story. About Cynthia’s birthday.

Tysm for reading.

[imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl]

The One I've Been Waiting For {Part 13 of 13}

Word count: 1.3 K

Summary: Billy Hargrove is just one of the many students you're supposed to help. The last thing you expect from your interaction is that he'll start flirtt with you... Much less that Billy would stir up feelings you'd rather keep hidden. Despite the mutual sentiments that soon enough start to grow, there are a lot of reasons for whatever it is to be left alone, and one of them is your age...

{Stranger Things Masterlist}

A/N: In this story, reader is 5 years older than Billy, who's 18.

•••

Epilogue

 You're seated on Billy's lap on the armchair, softly swinging your legs. He's explaining about this new research he'll be participating in his internship. Billy is currently studying whales, and you've never seen him so excited about anything before. He even got you a necklace with a whale's tail pendant.

 “And that means I get to bring you when we go whale watching.” He says, pecking your lips. “The Marine Biologist and the veterinarian. We're a perfect match.”

 “No shit! Really?” You smile, wrapping your arms around his neck. “That will be amazing.” Kissing him again, you only pull away when the bell rings.

 “I'm showering!” Max yells from her bedroom.

 “Maxine, aren't you the official door opener?” Billy shouts back.

 “Well, since I'm at the top this time, I'll get the door.” You say, pushing yourself up and winking at Billy. Before you even open the door, you know who's on the other side because of the many voices. So you yell at the same time you pull the door open, at the top of your lungs. “YOU'RE ONE DAY EARLY!” You burst out, making them scream like scared, little babies.

 “Damn it!” Billy mutters from the inside, and you know you scared him too.

 Looking at the kids, you smile. They'll spend two weeks here with Maxine, but you guess they decided to make a surprise and show up earlier. “Come on in.” Stepping aside, you watch as the small army moves inside. Mike is carrying a box, which gets your attention. “What's that about?”

 “It's your first-anniversary gift.” Eleven answers as Mike puts it on the couch. “But you can't open until Wednesday.”

 “But now I'm curious!” You complain, walking over to the box.

 But Lucas and Dustin stand in your way. “Nah, nah. Wednesday only.”

 Showing off your tongue, you go back to Billy, sitting on his lap again. “Let's wake up real early and take a peak.” You whisper in his ear.

 “Definitely.” He answers, placing a soft kiss on your neck.

 You've been married for almost a year now. You and Billy had a simple party, for family and friends only. It was beautiful, and it happened on the beach. And Billy has been a responsible man now, a loving, gentle husband. There were times when he told you that he was scared to be like his father, but you told him then, and you'll keep telling him for as long as he needs, that he isn't.

 Some people say that you got married too early, still trying to find flaws in your life. But the truth is that every day with Billy is the best day ever. You do have some arguments, but you never go to sleep before settling things down. Love is the priority, and neither of you will let anything get in the way of that.

 But what really matters to you, is how happy Billy is. He tells you that almost every day when you wake up, still in bed. He thanks you for the life you've given him, for your love and patience. He says that he doesn't think he deserves this. But he does.

 When Maxine is done showering and comes to the living room, you smile to see how happy she is with the surprise. Life is good now, and it'll only get better.

°°°

 Billy's heart is filled with good things. Only good things. He left the past where it belongs. All the anger, the bitterness, the agony... She chased it all away. (Y/N), the light of his life.

 “So, Wednesday,” Maxine says, a finger pointing at (Y/N) and her brother. “You two will have an amazing romantic day at that super romantic hotel, and then come back here for your party.”

 “And open this huge box!” (Y/N) says, jumping on his lap a little.

 “And to open your gift.” Max rolls her eyes. “But until then-”

 “Beach. Pretty please.” Dustin asks in a fake begging tone. “I've been daydreaming about his for weeks. Can we just go?”

 “Go put on your swimsuits, kids.” (Y/N) is still speaking when they move. Billy caresses her side to get her attention and smiles at her when she looks down at him.

 “Why don't we go change as well? There will be a nice sunset today.”

 “Mmm.” She raises an eyebrow, a half smile on her lips. “The kids will crowd the house for a few days. And we'll have plenty of time to join them at the beach. Why don't we stay here and enjoy some alone time?”

 At this awesome idea, Billy smirks. “It sounds way better than going to the beach with some kids.”

 “It sure does, love.”

 “I love it when you call me that.” He whispers, his thumb caressing her lower lip. And he does. It melts his heart every damn time. Hearing her use that word referring to him in that soft, honey voice... Drives him crazy.

°°°

 “That's precisely why I call you that, love.” Smiling, you stand up. “And you should enjoy some action while you still can. I'm late this month so any day now.” You say, stopping before the box. You were super embarrassed in the beginning when it came to these things, but Billy always made you feel comfortable. “What the hell can this be?”

 “You're late.” He says, and you glance at him before looking down at the box again.

 “Yeah, that's what I said.”

 “You're... Really late.” He repeats and, deciding to leave the box be, for now, you turn towards him.

 “... Are you keeping track of my period, Billy Hargrove?” Crossing your arms, you raise an eyebrow.

 “Yeah. I drive past the drugstore every day, I'm the one who buys you tampons most of the time, (Y/N) Hargrove.” That makes you blush, and you stick your tongue out at him before walking to the kitchen. “And...” He starts, following you and leaning against the sink as you take a bottle of water. “It's always a party when your period is over. For both of us.” With that stupid smirk on, Billy comes closer, pinning you against the sink.

 “Would you keep it down? We have a bunch of kids to be aware of.” You whisper.

 “How late are you, babe?”

 “I don't know. I don't really keep track of it. I only know it's coming because I have cramps.” Shrugging your shoulders, you look at the fridge, at the calendar. “Mmm... Been a while actually.”

 “So.” He mutters, his big hand laying on your stomach. “There's a possibility it won't be coming any time soon.”

 “What?” You nervously chuckle, pushing him away when you hear the kids coming. “I don't think so, Billy.”

 “Well, we're not always being careful, are we?”

 “And whose fault is that?” You ask, hands on your hips.

 “Fifty percent mine.” He answers with a smile.

 “Billy, forget it. I'm just...” Your voice fades as you take a closer look at the calendar. “...Around two weeks late.”

 “Kids!” He yells, startling you. “You gotta walk. I'm taking car one to the drugstore and car two won't fit all of you.”

 “What the hell, Billy,” Maxine complains, coming to the kitchen with her army behind her. “What do you need from there? We have the meds box, and it's full.”

 “I'm not buying any meds.” He says, as you just watch the scene, arms crossed. “I just need a pregnancy test.” And with that, he's off, leaving you with all of those wide-eyed kids.

 “Oh. My. God.” Dustin mutters.

 “Holy shit, I can't believe it!” Maxine shouts, and you slide a hand under your shirt, touching your belly.

 It's still too early to be sure, but you were never been this late before... And you remember feeling sick a couple of days ago. So maybe, just maybe, there's a tiny, fresh life growing inside you.

 “Maybe...” You whisper, a smile taking over your lips at the thought of having a baby with Billy. “Maybe.”

•••

@aunicornmademedoit @alexa4040 @goth-cowgirl-03 @nyctophilic0vitnir @minispice-1

[gwojo]

can i love?

FEATURING: Megumi Fushiguro (伏黒恵)

megumi x reader, angst no comfort, reader uses they/them prns, non-sorcerer au, around age 18-19, just plain angst. (sorry) wordcount: 1,187

SUMMARY: In which, you've been admiring someone named Megumi Fushiguro around the 5th grade until college which turns out to be the present. you see others already resonating with their loved ones but what about you? will you just keep desiring to have a connection with him? 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚎𝚜 : this is heavily inspired by the song "Can I love ?" which feats. youra, Meego) by cosmic boy! which tells about unrequited love and the desire to connect with them while at the same time being unsure of what your relationship is to someone, and the desires to be happy like others. I advise u listen to it while reading!

in my dream I remember the moment I was standing one step behind you.

You weren't always remembered as a person; you were just an ordinary student, which you deemed to yourself, and you promised that you'd stay like that forever. not until you met the boy named "Fushiguro Megumi."

After the occurrence between you both, accidentally spilling your ice cream on him when you were children and mumbling apologies as quick as you could, he helped you up before even wiping away the sticky texture in his jacket as he left you there staring, not even muttering a single word to you. Fortunately, that was the day you started to look for him wherever you went. Your parents thought it was just a silly crush you had when you were a child, but as the years passed, they started to see that it was actually a serious type of love for you.

You would always see him passing by whenever you went out at exactly 7:40 to go to school, which is around the block. You wait around the window before going outside, almost tripping the way down there, so you could walk at least 5 steps away from his back just to admire the way his face turns when he talks to his friends and the way he just walks quietly. As you began to admire and daydream by walking with him every day,

Your daydream stops when you realize you're already at your destination, the entrance of the school. As you shake your head and go inside, hoping for another better day,.

Why do your faces all say that I'm unhappy

As you sit on the bench beside the soccer field, with your friends giggling and talking about how their crushes or boyfriends are giving butterflies to their stomachs, you, on the other end, just smile and laugh while also realizing how far you are from him—feeling upset and empty, you stood up to get a drink from the vending machine while telling your friends you'll leave for a while.

On the way there, you couldn't help but stop thinking. The feeling of being judged for not being able to achieve the same level of happiness as others is truly terrifying but hurtful at the same time. You were always just admiring him from afar; you doubt he even knows you despite you both being in the same class, and you just wish you'd have a connection or at least a relationship with him, even if it's just friends.

You scoff at yourself and think how pathetic it is to even assume he knows your name whenever you guys are paired together with other people and to think that he's your friend. is just truly pathetic, as you think to yourself.

You weren't just passing by, just brushing past

Even if you keep reminding yourself that you and him have more to their dynamic and relationship than just a fleeting moment, you reflect your hopes of being somewhat of a person to him somehow. The lingering feeling of your beating heart but pain can be felt in another way; you still hold on to that feeling and want to ask him countless questions.

But.. you couldn't. You were uncertain of how he feels about you or even if he notices you when you anonymously give him chocolates without revealing your identity to him. He didn't even know you. So why be stupid and think that he'll like you back? You mutter to yourself as you plop yourself in bed, just staring at the ceiling, waiting for another day to arrive to celebrate the party at school.

You were sitting on the floor quietly while your friends rambled and had fun beside you. You really appreciated them sticking by you even in your hard times, and you thank them for that. The president then calls everyone in the classroom to gather around and sit in a circle to play a game called truth or dare. Countless people have taken their turn playing the game and answering questions, some doing silly things their friends have told them when they chose truth or dare. As you zoned out, not until you heard his voice choosing "truth" as the other people asked him what his type was, you waited eagerly for his answer while your heart was beating as quickly, hoping for an answer that could be related to you.

"Someone with an unshakeable character."

You heard his deep but calm toned voice, your heart slowly stopped beating in a fast rate. You scoff to yourself in your mind as you reminisce about the things you've imaged and did.. the remaining hopes of you which lingers everyday comes to an end. Unshakeable? you doubted that would be you, you were always scared of everything and doubtful towards yourself, maybe he truly didn't know you and your assumptions and doubts were right and won. You couldn't stop the burning pain in your heart and almost swollen eyes with tears were threatening to fall as you quickly told your friends if you could go home since "your relative needed some help" as you lied to them just to get away. You walked the way home, it wasn't the cliché scene where you get heartbroken and it was raining, in fact no, it wasn't raining at all.. it was just sunny and bright with clouds and the sun almost going away.

I don't know what kind of relationship we had

You slowly admired and got lost in the skies while you walked through the bridge with trees and leaves falling down, cars passing by and bicycles with lovers giggling to each other saying how they're about to fall.. You didn't run whenever you felt upset, you didn't cry at home, no, not at all—you didn't even cry because you felt like you couldn't anymore, you didn't expect much but it still hurts knowing very clear that he doesn't know you are.

You were quiet the way back home, just admiring everything slowly and accepting that you were hurt.. because what could you do about it? he won't reciprocate your feelings toward him and that was fine even if you admired him for years. You felt surprisingly okay with a hint of pain in your heart, small tears fell down while you smiled at the beauty of the blue and pink skies.. Accepting the way you felt was okay and that you won't be able to feel the stage of happiness everyone feels in this world, it was okay, you were okay.

Okay with the feeling of the in denial feeling that you will never feel the happiness that others feel, with their loved ones and crushes; the way their smiles light up in happiness just to see them as they walk together to their destinations.. as you sigh slowly.

As you put on your playlist and chose the song "can i love ?" by cosmic boy, and just giggled realizing how much you relate to the song.. maybe it isn't so bad speaking or feeling the pain and uncertainty that comes with wanting to connect with someone who may not feel the same way.

You always wanted to run and ask him, confess your apparently "dying" love to him as you rant to your friends.. but right now, you just felt like keeping it to yourself.

"Can I love? You?"

reblogs are appreciated! thank you for reading.

— © gwojo 2023. pls i advise u not to share on tiktok, plagiarize, repost on other platforms, copy, or translate.

[yellowbunnydreams]

Mechanised Devotion (Part 8) ~Steve Raglan/William Afton x Female Reader~

~I am staying up stupid late to write more for the big-man fan-club and I have ZERO regrets. Except maybe that paper I'm procrastinating on. I'll be making a masterlist soon so there won't be so much clutter on these posts linking to all the parts. Also, changed the title so that there was more clarity for people picking out this story~

Word count so far (all parts:) 14,593

Tag List!: @ruh--roh-raggy @likoplays

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7

CW: Minors DNI, (18+ ONLY), Female Reader, afab reader, legal age gap (Reader- 20's, William - 40's), mention of crimes and violence, blood, mentions of child death (it's FNAF, what did you expect?), past trauma; abusive relationships. Trophy taking, panty stealing (never thought I'd write that), William being a perv, masturbation, voyeurism if you squint?

The weekend had been long and somehow all too quick after Steve dropped you back at your house. Handing you an envelope with your pay check in cash, apologising that it had taken so long to get to you, but there had been some delays since he had reported the Spring Bonnie animatronic supposedly moving and the owner needed to investigate. The pay check came with some elegant handwriting that apologised for the inconvenience, but that you should be made aware that the animatronic might possibly roam around still. Precautions would be taken to try and assure your safety however.

You scoffed as you read it, and put it down on your bedside table as you thumbed through the cash, eyes widening as you counted. There was almost two hundred dollars more than you expected, and you felt as if you were going to faint as you realised that the money was probably compensation of some sort. Silence money about what had happened at the restaurant.

Smiling to yourself, you wondered if you should treat Steve to a meal like he had done for you when you got the job. Thinking that that would be a nice thing for him. You touched the top of your head, patting it slowly as if trying to get the same feeling from where had patted your head so affectionately but your smaller, lighter hands couldn't replicate it.

Steve had handed you your uniform back as well, seeming sheepish as he apologised, it seemed that his old dryer had taken your delicates and eaten them, or possibly slipped in-between the drum and the motor in the back, which would basically mean that they were more than likely shredded up at that point. You'd laughed about it, telling him not to worry about it, it wasn't like it was your only pair after all. Raglan had laughed with you, despite the fact that as he spoke, he knew exactly where they were. They were in a little box on his bedside drawer, your name attached to a little tag tied carefully onto the cotton fabric. The date they had been 'collected' too. He wanted something of yours to recall that initial assault vividly with. A shudder had passed through his body as he wondered how many he could possibly take from you. How many firsts of yours would he end up being if you continued to feed his dark desires by being so naive about the intentions of the old killer.

It was with a great reluctance that you had pulled on thick work trousers and a blouse, the Freddy's jacket over the top as you got ready to go back to work. Steve had almost begged you to keep going, the owner clearly liked you enough to investigate the complaint, and having received a lot more money than you anticipated, you felt some obligation that you needed to return to Freddy's and continue being a good employee.

The walk felt longer than usual, but you supposed that they last time you had walked it, you had feared for your life. Tonight was slightly different to the last time you walked there, as a cop car pulled up and flickered the lights for a moment, forcing you to pause and wait to speak to the officer.

The tinted window rolled down and revealed a young woman who didn't look too much older than yourself. Her blonde hair pulled back in a severe ponytail and her grey eyes tired with bags beneath them despite the warm and friendly smile she gave you.

"Well I apologise ma'am, but you were speeding." She joked, making you laugh as you realised it was probably more a friendly check in than anything else. Relaxing slightly, you shrugged your shoulders and held up your hands in mock surrender.

"Sorry officer, I'll walk slower and more depressed next time." Watching as the cop cracked a smile before nodding over to the passenger side of the car.

"You work at Freddy's right, jump on in. I was heading there actually, it's on my rounds and I wanted to check in."

At the thought of not having to walk the rest of the way, you eagerly climbed into the car, clicking your seatbelt into place and allowing the cop to drive off towards the pizzeria. Glad you were out of dying sunlight and able to save your legs, especially since you would have to carry two bags back with you. A small pack with a toolkit inside it as you decided you were also going to take your own security precautions against the violent bunny.

"Hey, what happened to the back of your head? You're all bandaged up." The woman besides her frowned, glancing at you and staring as you reached up and touched the bandages on the back of your head. You were luckily mostly healed after a weekend of rest, but you felt self-conscious about it still.

"Oh it was um..an accident at work, don't worry, I promise I'm fine." You smiled reassuringly, adjusting your hair to try and hide the bandages a little better. Feeling your cheeks burning in shame as the woman made a non-committal hum before turning her attention back to the road.

The drive was mercifully short and you couldn't escape the car fast enough, hoping that the drive was informal introduction to the local law, but your stomach sank slightly as you watched the woman climb out too and lock up her car. Gesturing for you to lead the way in, she seemed confident as she moved through the hallways, knowing exactly where she was headed, which you supposed that she would considering she said Freddy's was part of her rounds.

"Have you seen them yet?" The blonde asked, making you raise and eyebrow quizzically and shrug your shoulders, that cold feeling in your stomach growing as she spoke vaguely.

"If you mean the guys on stage, yeah, you could say that." You sighed, heading into the office and feeling a little surprised as you noticed your possessions that you left in a neat pile on the desk, organised in a meticulous pile and your bag sat on your chair compared to the dusty flood where you had left it fleeing.

"The 'guys'." The blonde laughed, shaking her head and leaning against the desk as you flipped the breaker. Watching the monitors as you always did to see them power on, glad to see the camera that was down was also fixed whilst you were away. "wow, did your mom not take you to Freddy's growing up?"

"I'm not from here, so no, I had never heard of it until I got this job." You answer slightly curtly, anxious to see if the animatronics would move. Wondering if you would have to deal with a freaking out cop who was armed as well as things like Foxy deciding to try clawing down your door again. Pulling out a piece of paper and some crayons that you kept in the drawer, you began to doodle, making the woman raise a curious eyebrow.

"I'm Vanessa, by the way." You paused your movements and answered her with your own name, receiving a nod of acknowledgement from Vanessa as you continued drawing.

"So, what on Earth are you doing doodling on the job?" She asked, wondering what your answer was, recognising a crude picture of the animatronics, what she recognised as you and a crude picture of herself too. All with smiles and holding hands together. On another piece of paper, you drew another Foxy and a sad looking security guard, making sure to give Foxy red eyes and an open mouth with lots of sharp teeth.

"You'll see, potentially." You answered, looking up at the monitors and noticing that Freddy had decided to move from his spot on stage. Soon hearing the familiar 'thunk' of his footsteps and watching as he came into view of your door. Pausing quizzically outside with his ears wiggling, seeming surprised that your door was open and that there was another person inside.

Holding up the drawing of all of them, you showed it to Freddy, who seemed to look at it intensely before raising his eyebrows and doing his silent laugh and ear-wiggles. A sign you had interpreted as the animatronic being happy with some relief.

"You...You know about them?" Vanessa asked, looking shocked towards you, paling slightly as she glanced between you and Freddy in the doorway, leaving it your turn to frown suspiciously at the cop and cross your arms across your chest.

"And so do you by the sounds of it." Raising an eyebrow and trying not to crack a smile as you noticed the bear from the corner of your eye mimicking your expression somewhat.

"Uh... Yeah, I um.. I've known for a while, most people just...leave...when they find out about this though."

"Apart from Foxy and that creepy fucking rabbit, I've not really had any issues." You explain, shrugging your shoulders and taking a seat back at the desk, chewing at your lip as Freddy decided to wander back into the restaurant, seemingly content that you had company for the night.

"Bonnie is not that creepy." Vanessa said, scuffing her shoe across the floor, looking out down the hall and glancing up at one of the hidden cameras she knew her father had installed to keep an eye on the place.

"No, that spring Bonnie thing, the yellow one? Creepy as hell and a violent shit too." You laughed bitterly, reminding you to reach into your bag and take out your tool kit as well as some thick grating that you had picked up from a supply store.

Vanessa froze as you mentioned the yellow rabbit, her heart beating quickly in her chest and stomach sinking as she glanced over your injuries once more. The fading pattern of bruises across your throat making her feel sick to her stomach as she realised that it was all too familiar to her. And the fact you had a small scar across your cheek, she guessed it came from a blade, taking a deep breath and trying to steel her own nerves as she realised you had met her father.

At least, you had been convinced it was an animatronic, and not a person inside the suit.

"I'm surprised that thing still moves." She laughed nervously, biting her lip as she watched you working before she stood up, slapping her thighs and making you jump as you attempted to fit the new vent cover. "Hey, I got other places to check, but it was nice meeting you, stay safe you hear me?"

You smiled at her, and watched as she dug into her pocket, pulling out a business card with her number on it, handing it over and smiling with something like nerves making her eyes betray her concern for you.

"How about we meet in a few days, I can try to get you some more info on this place and you can possibly give you some tips?"

"Sure, that sounds nice Vanessa." You said, a little surprised at the offer, but accepting, watching the woman leave your office and heading towards the front doors your had both entered by. Shaking your head as you continued with your work after she had gone.

~~

Raglan had taken out the box from his nightstand as he watched the cameras on his laptop again, listening to your conversation with Vanessa with a frown. But he knew that his daughter had enough braincells left in her head to realise betraying him wasn't a great idea, smirking as he thought of you falling further into his tangle of lies and deceit. His fingers brushed over the box and he opened it cautiously, thick calloused fingers brushing against the delicate fabric that made up the panties he had taken as a little trophy, taking them out of the box, he couldn't held as his thumb ran over the thin fabric that would have laid against your sex. Feeling himself twitching in his pants with groan as he tried to imagine if you were wet for him as his fingers had wrapped around your throat.

He pawed at himself slowly, trying to get some relief from his rapidly hardening cock as he thought about how you had cried for him on the Friday night. Called his pretend name like some whispered prayer and fell asleep against him, oblivious to the knife being played with above your head.

The delicious way you had tried to fight against your own body as he drew that very same knife up the inside of you leg. How you had trembled like a scared little thing as your mouth hung open uselessly, a silent scream as he had felt his own heart threatening to beat out of his chest. He gripped himself through his slacks and stroked slowly, savouring the shivers that went through his body and biting his lip to stifle a growl. Steve could only imagine how pretty you would look choking on him, tears in your eyes and fighting to breathe around him. Maybe he would be kind to you and grip your shaking body close as he explored all the marks and scars he could imagine inflicting on your practically unblemished skin.

Growling frustratedly, he squeezed himself before reluctantly removing his hand and feeling himself throbbing hungrily. Glancing at the screen where he watched you taking a seat at your desk and throwing your head over the back-rest, making him hiss in delight as he ached to have his fingers back around your throat.

As much as he wanted to continue the fantasy in his head, he looked at his trophy longingly before running his lips over the fabric, imagining how you would flinch away from his hot breath. Or maybe how your soft thighs would squeeze around his head and let him listen to your racing pulse in your femoral artery, how easy it would be to turn and bite, letting the warmth spill across his sheets.

The throbbing in his slacks made him groan as if in pain, shakily putting back the delicate prize and letting the faint smell of you linger against him, focusing on the screen again to watch you through your shift. Licking him his lips as he let his hand wander across his groin again, breathing a little ragged as his fingers twitched around him despite the fabric separating him from his own skin. Still refusing to give in to the promise of release.

Steve Raglan was a patient man after all. And the thought of waiting in anticipation to ruin such a sweet thing made the wait all the more bittersweet for himself.

[multifan2022]

Golden Lies

Heres another new one that has been in my wips for who knows how long.. Let me know!!

“I volunteer!” 

The first thought through your head after hearing that is ‘who said that?’ Who would volunteer for the 69th Hunger Games.. Well the games at all, but why now? 

It isn't until people start turning around and looking at you, the 17 year old who almost escaped being reaped, that you realize whose voice you heard. You heard your own, because as soon as you saw little Cissa being pulled onto stage your heart broke. 

Cissa was your neighbor, she had just turned 12 the day before the reaping. You would be turning 18 in a week and a half. The poor girl cried for twenty minutes when she got a papercut opening seeds, she wouldn't last in the games. 

Not that you had a much better chance when it came down to it. The biggest difference was the only family you had was two grandparents, both very old and one sick. Cissa was the middle child of 5, her older twin brothers and her younger twin sisters. It would devastate them all if something happened to her, your grandparents wouldn't live long to mourn you. 

The peacekeepers hands on you barely caught your attention as they forced you to switch places. The only good part you could see out of this, was that Cissa wouldn't be rereaped. You had saved at least one of their kids, a small payment for all the times they watched your grandparents during the harvest for the last 8 years. 

Cress Amberpath, the light pink skinned Escort of your district, is practically vibrating with happiness when you reach the stage. There had never been a volunteer from your district while he worked here. He pulled you into a weird hug congratulating you before pulling you towards the mic. “Is there anything you would like to say to little Cissa, Dearie?” 

You nodded, pulled yourself together and looked at her family. Her mother was already in tears, you being like a niece to her, while she clung to her daughter. The older twin boys who were your age nodded, letting you know they would take care of her. While their father nodded, letting you know he would take care of your grandparents. It all happened within seconds, and suddenly you were ok. 

Everything was going to be ok. So you laughed and nodded again “Hey Cissy, take care of Finnick for me ya?” Cissa turned back to you, tears streaming down her face as she nodded and cracked a smile at the inside joke. When her family started laughing along with you, Cress spoke again “Whos Finnick my dear! Do you have a beau we should all know about!” 

You knew this next part would maybe piss some people off, but you were off to die so who cares. You shook your head “It's my dog.. Because there was a magazine we found the same day I found this puppy, and on the cover it said ‘Is golden boy Finnick Odair, a dog?’ Cissy thought it was a sign that we should name him Finnick.” 

To your utter surprise, Cress laughed.. Hard, like bent over laughing a genuine laugh before speaking “I wish we could see that man's face when he hears this, it would be priceless! But onto the boys!” When he left you in your spot and walked towards the other bowl, you scanned the crowd for the one friend you had. 

Hardin Bellbrand. 

A boy you went to school with, who worked the same field as you. He was your only confidant, the only person you trusted fully in this world. He was there when your parents died, you were there when he was diagnosed with an untold disease a few years ago. Hardin had been pulled from the fields, and was treated. Perk of being the Mayor's son, you guess. Now he could be out and about as long as he took his pill everyday. 

If he missed his pills within a few days he would start to have severe pain. Next would come the sweats and puking alongside hallucinations. He wasn't fit to be in the games ethier, and thankfully he is a year older than you so this is his last year. 

You finally made eye contact with him, and could see the heartbreak and sadness in them. Your ears start to buzz when he nods and looks away. You're frantically shaking your head as you hear Cress call some name you don't know. Your feet are moving before you realize it, mouth open screaming “NO” as you realize what Hardin is thinking. 

 Over your painfully screams to your sick friend, his voice rings clear “I volunteer as tribute!” The Mayor and his wife start screaming now as well, neither wanting to lose their only child. Both knowing even if he was fit and healthy, he's not a killer. While they are getting drug off stage by peacekeepers, Hardin is making his way to the stage. 

He completely bypasses Cress who is practically dying in excitement and walks straight to you. While you're shaking your head, he smiles sadly and wraps you in a hug whispering over and over that it's ok. Even though it's anything but. Cress pulls him off you and towards the microphone. “Well!! What a turn of events!! Not ONE but TWO volunteers!! Why did you volunteer young man??” 

Hardin turns his head and looks at you, that same sad smile present. “Couldn't let my best friend go off to fight without me.. She was gonna leave me in the fields to do all her work, can you believe that Cress?” He jokes and you know that he's going to make it through the process just fine. The struggle will be when the two of you are trying to survive in the arena. 

But you're dedicated to keeping him alive.. Even if it means killing yourself in the end. 

Hardin Bellbrand will be coming home. 

~~~~~~~

The train ride was excruciating, listening to Cress gush about how your ratings were already up due to there being volunteers in an outlying district. But since there were two of you, and you were best friends, he swore that it would be an easy win. There hadn't been a victor from District 9 in 25 years and he was dead. 

You and Hardin would be alone going into training, Cress would be your only guide during the next few weeks. You're both thankful for the fact the train rolls at 250 miles an hour, making your trip only a handful of hours. But your head was still pounding when you arrived. 

Cameras flashed and people screamed questions at you both as you were practically shoved from the train and into a car. Just to have it all happen again between the car and the tribute center. The only difference was this time you saw people holding out flowers. Cress stopped and gasped, turning back to you both, “We have never had gifts given to us before the games! This is such an honor, graciously accept them and show your love for the capitol!” 

You turned and nudge your head to one side, Hardin nodded and without speaking each of you took a side of the walkway. Men, women and children all screaming your name and touching your face or hair. Some had flowers that you would take and offer a smile and kind words back. You shake every hand you can reach, and even stop taking a few pictures. 

Somehow you even look happy, excited even to be here, which only drives the crowd crazier. When you and Hardin meet back up by the doors, you each have a handful of flowers and messy hair. Your hands find each other, fingers intertwining as you bow and smile to the crowd who just screams louder. 

Another car pulls up so the peacekeepers finish escorting you inside the huge building. Hardin looks around in amazement at the architecture and the size but all you can see is the bodies in the corner. A group of people who you assume are here to size up the competition and try to intimidate them. 

Cashmere, Gloss, Brutus, Enobaria, Finnick and Augustus along with their tributes are all sitting there glaring at you. Well all of them besides Finnick, who is the same age as Augustus who is the same age as you and Hardin. Just a bunch of 17 and 18 year olds that deserve to be anyone but here. Finnick was smiling at you, looking you up and down before leaning over and making a comment to Augustus who then smirks. 

The look on their faces makes your skin crawl, but you dont show it. Your upper lip pulling into a sneer as you fake gag in their direction causing Hardin to laugh as you keep walking towards the elevator. Thankfully disappearing from the Careers sight. 

~~~~

Finnick was tired.. 

Tired of being in the Capitol. Tired of kissing asses, tired of sleeping around, and tired of pretending like he hated every other tribute who walked through the door. But mostly he was just tired, he really needed a nap and a good shower. He was practically sleeping with his eyes open not listening to the others when he heard the crowd outside start screaming. 

He looked around quickly, thinking maybe one of the other careers had made their way outside. But no, the whole group was still there. As they all turned towards the door and waited, Finnick was stuck between relief and jealousy. Relief that maybe the people of the Capitol had found a new favorite and would leave him alone, and jealousy that the crowd was honestly being louder for whoever was outside than they were for him. 

The jealousy washed away though when the doors opened and a beautiful girl walked in with her escort and who Finnick assumed was her district partner. Arms full of flowers, hair ruffled from fingers running through it and cheeks pink from embarrassment. 

He knew right away by the lack of a Victor and the pink man escorting them that they were the tributes from District 9. While the guy looked around clearly amazed with the building, which to be honest happened to most of the tributes, the girl looked unimpressed. She rolled her eyes at her district mate, shouldered him a little before turning and noticing the group. 

Which also seemed to be unimpressive to her. 

While she looked them over, Finnick looked her over. She was tall for a girl, probably 5’7 or 5’8. Her hair was clean and down to the middle of her back, she was thin but not thin like most who came from her district. Definitely not thin like those from 12. More like the type of thin people get when they work the fields, which is probably what she did coming from 9. 

They both looked in shape while the girl looked a little healthier and a little stronger, Finnick knew that appearances were deceiving. While he was sizing her up she turned and locked eyes with him. By the look on her face, she yet again was not impressed. Finnick leaned over to Augustus and whispered “I think we should probably watch out for that one. But smile, make her think we are making fun of her.” 

Augustus, who was new to all of this, smiled condescendingly at her before she sneered at them. Laughed with her district mate and left, the two teens turning back to the other careers. “We need to watch them, that's the first time 9 hasnt been scared shitless when they walked in. Plus for whatever reason the crowd loved them, and that's always a problem.” Cashmere said, looking down at her nails before looking over at her brother who nodded. 

That was all that passed between the group before they all went up to watch the reapings. 

~~~~~~~~~

After hair was ripped out that you didn't even know existed, you were bathed and rubbed with an oil that made your skin seem tanned and shimmery. Makeup was smeared across your face as someone else was pulling at your hair. You sat quietly knowing that fussing was just going to make the process longer. Soon enough, but not soon enough you were left in just a robe in an empty room with nothing but a cot, a chair and a wardrobe. 

When the door opened, a dark skinned woman with her hair back in box braids stepped in. She had just a little gold makeup on, and a small gold rose tattooed behind her ear. She smiled genuinely at you before pulling you into a hug, when she pulled back she squeezed your shoulders. “I'm sorry you have to be here.” She said so quietly you almost missed it. 

All you did was nod and look down, but she put a hand under your chin and lifted your face. You could tell as she turned it and then looked at your hair that she was examining the team's work. Your eye make up was dramatic, a medium dark green on the lid, with orange brushed into brown that reminded you of leaves changing color. Your bottom lid had the same orange and brown along with dramatic winged eyeliner and false lashes. 

Your hair had a thick but slightly messy fishtail crown braid with the rest waterfalling down your back in waves. Small clips that had butterflies, bees and dragonflies on them had been placed seemingly at random around your head. A crown woven with flowers such as Cardinal flower, wood lilies, dotted gayflower, and multiple colors of milkweed rested on your head. The smell was amazing, they looked and smelled like they had just bloomed in the fields behind your home. The mulberries and huckleberries looked like they had been picked at their peak and preserved perfectly. 

“My name is Lavanna, I'm your and Hardin's main stylist. I will be designing all your outfits, I'm fresh out of school, this is my first game. But I plan to put you out there in a big way. Not to sound full of myself but I think the only person who could out do what I have planned for you is my younger brother Cinna.. And thankfully he's still in school.” Lavanna smiled at you before turning to the wardrobe and pulling out what you think are pieces of a dress. 

She helps you into a dress that is skin tight from the shoulders, down your arms and chest. Tight all the way to your hips where it had just enough room and stretch to walk before it reached along with a slit that went very very high up your right leg. The top, including your arms, was green like the forest then it started to mix and fade into a dark amberish color. Then it ombred down into a beautiful bright orange that reminded you of the sunsets back home. Again it felt like you were looking at the leaves changing. 

She helped you into orange heels that wrapped up your legs but thankfully had a thick heel. Last but not least she told you to raise your arms as she wrapped a belt around your waist. It perfectly blended in with the color of your dress, and attached was something out of a book. It looked like it belonged to royalty or a goddess, not you. 

Behind you was a long tulle train, the tulle barely colored to match the dress where it needed too. But at the bottom was leaves, they started green but turned into rich reds and bright vivid oranges and yellows. Leaf shapes stood out to you, yet again from back home. 

Birch, black walnut, black and red maple, northern pine oak and cottonwood leaves. Entwined into the leaves were other plants like fluffy cattails, golden wheat, and pampas grass. The only thing you could recognize that wasn't from your district in the entire outfit was pampas grass. All the flowers, all the leaves, even the berries in the crown were all something that grew in your district. 

When she turned you around and you caught sight of yourself in the full length mirror you had to step closer and touch the glass. You couldn't believe this was you, sure you had always been told you were pretty, but this was something else. With just some make up, a good proper shower and some fancy clothes you looked like a goddess. You wanted to cry, but couldn't bear to ruin the hours of work you had just gone through. 

Lavanna could tell you were at a loss for words, so she stepped forward, careful of the huge train she had created. She smiled at you in the mirror and spoke softly trying not to spook you. “I decided to go a different direction.. The whole farmers thing is a little played out, plus you volunteered for a young girl. And your friend volunteered to stay with you, so I thought you guys deserved something really special.” 

When you spoke, it was a whisper “I look like some type of goddess or something.. Like something out of the books in the district library.” You turned to her when she started chuckling, unsure if she was laughing at you or not but she shook her head. “That's what I was going for. Ceres and Saturn, the Goddess of Grain crop and Agriculture. She was also a fertility goddess but we don't need to get into that. And then Saturn God of abundance, wealth, agriculture and a few other unimportant things. Would you like to go see his outfit?” 

 You nodded silently, still stunned as you looked at yourself one last time. Then you followed Lavanna out into a hall, then down into an area outside that was full of people in costumes and chariots. You turned away refusing to look at the other tributes as you looked for Hardin. And when he appeared you were just as awestruck by his outfit as you had been by your own. But also by him, because he looked so much healthier than he had before. 

Hardin had gladiator sandals on with a toga that was tight to his chest and showing part of it. It was the same colors as yours but without all the filigree. He had a crown of leaves that matched the bottom of your train, it had the same berries and some branches on it. His dark curly hair was shiny and tamed for the first time, probably ever. He was also holding a very sharp looking scythe.  He looked like the god that would stand next to you, and in this moment he would. 

He stared at you in a daze, watching as the train and the bottom of the dress swished around you. He had always told you that you were beautiful, really one of the best looking girls in your age group back home. But now you really looked beautiful, not sweat covered and exhausted from a day in the fields. Even more tired because you knew you would need to come home and care for your grandparents before getting a few hours of sleep and doing it again. You looked like someone who could actually win. 

Finnick watched from the district four chariot. He had to force his jaw not to drop as he turned to the sound of heels clicking. His tributes were already waiting on the chariot, one dressed like a fisher the other like a mermaid. They looked great but nowhere near as breathtaking as you looked. 

It literally felt like someone slapped Finnick in the face when you walked in. The color of the dress perfectly sets off your skin tone. Your hair fell in just the right way to frame your face. The makeup was dramatic and made the color of your eyes pop. Whoever was styling you had done a fantastic job, but Finnick knew they had a gorgeous model to work with. 

He figured you would have looked beautiful in the normal farmer garb your district normally wore. He watched with slight jealousy as you laughed with the male tribute whose name he learned was, Hardin. Watching with a curious mind as the two of you pointed out leaves on your dress with bright eyes and laughed. 

He wished that he could be as carefree as you were in that moment. His thoughts were interpreted by a whack on the head. When he turned rubbing the sore spot Mags was smiling up at him with a knowing look. “You like her don't you.” She said as a statement and not a question. 

Finnick shook his head and looked around frantically, “First off, you know not to say things like that. Second, I dont even know her.. I just think..” his voice trailed off as he turned back to look at you. A woman who he assumed was your stylist was flitting around you tapping on things placed in your hair. He watched as small insects began to flutter their wings. 

His mouth moved without his brain telling it too, he felt so comfortable around Maggie that the facade he put up every single day outside of his home slipped. “I just think she's the most beautiful girl I have ever seen.” As soon as it was out he coughed and rubbed the back of his neck. He had never said something like that, or felt so inclined to talk to someone. 

He watched as you and Hardin stepped up onto your chariot, you were now holding a small basket woven into a cornucopia. Your stylist team shoved small flowers and foods into the basket as the main stylist  moved the train of your dress to flow behind you. Lavanna held it up with the help of one of the others as your chariot moved. Mags gasped when the wind from the ride caught the ends of your train holding it up. The tulle had folded out giving the effect of leaves and grass flying out behind your chariot. All he wanted was to catch your scent on the air, to feel your warmth radiate around him like the sun. 

Taking a step back he forced his brain to remind his hormonal heart that he no longer had the luxury of thinking like that. 

He belonged to the Capitol. To Snow. And to the people who threw money away to spend time with him. No matter how disgusting he felt when he crawled into bed at night, it didn't matter. He had people to protect, parents and a friend or two. He couldn't allow himself to feel things towards those he couldn't have. 

And he couldn't have you.

~

~

~

PART 2

[octuscle]

I really like the transformation of this guy in a professional soccer player! Well I know the feeling to wish for another decision in the past. I work actually as a construction worker because my gf got pregnant in college and I had to earn money quickly. Now we're divorced and I don't think I'm a hero for my son. That would be different if I said 'no' in the past going my way into sports and maybe got draftet in a money-spinning sport. Maybe my son would have a poster with me on it on a wall in his room today if I decided otherwise in the past. I'd like the same program as the other guy - changing my life and my past. I take the risk not becoming a hero but please give me a chance, chronivac support

No problem, you can use the preset as often as you like, that's the least effort. You are now not quite as old as the soccer player, so with an initial age of 36 like yours, the result will be 18 years… Depending on the sport that fate decides on, your career can be almost over or just beginning. 4:00 PM, you just got off work, shall we get right to it?

Boy, I mean, you're not exactly in bad shape. But you've allowed yourself to get a little carried away, haven't you? And the tattoos would look better with less flabby skin. Well, that's going to change. Actually, you wanted to order a pizza while you were scratching your sack. But suddenly you don't feel like it anymore. Instead, you write a message to your gym buddy, with whom you have been training for a few weeks, asking if he spontaneously has time and wants to do a training session. You meet in half an hour at the gym.

The guy at the reception greets you with a fist bump. You've been part of the inventory here for a year. Some people with a fine nose may be bothered by the fact that you don't shower after work before you start training. But nobody can say that you are not a role model in terms of motivation and discipline. A year ago some things were still wobbling on you But now there's hardly any fat left and the muscles are coming really nicely. You also have your life better and better under control. No more alcohol, no more cigarettes. Your alimony checks come on time and are always covered. Even if the mother of your son doesn't want to have contact anymore, your son at least follows you on Instagram. In the meantime, you have a good 2K followers who accompany your transformation. You are proud of that, too.

20:00 o'clock, you two are done. A few more poses in front of the mirror. Four years of hard training have turned you into a model athlete. And with your fitness followers you now make more money than with your job as a construction worker. But you want to be a role model for your son, just being an influencer is not a profession. It takes you an hour to shower, shave your body and trim your beard. When you leave the studio, you want to look good. Even if it's just to go home and cook. You are a domestic person. And besides, it saves money. And you make a live stream out of the cooking, which gives you a few more followers. But it's also a hard job. By the time you've eaten and cleaned up the kitchen, it's already 11:00 pm. And the alarm clock rings at 5:00 am. Time to go to bed. Actually, at 29, when you have a body like yours, you should have more fun in life. But you've been a father for seven years, and that obliges you. With the birth of your son, you've completely turned your life around. Even though you are divorced, you still have a good relationship with your ex-wife. And your son already writes you good-night text messages. Hey, you know people who are worse off!

Your routines include drinking a liter of water before bed. It flushes all the toxins out of your body overnight. Can't be much with your diet, but you like routines. However, this often means that you have to pee again at night. Today so about 02:00 clock. You have to be quiet so as not to wake your wife and son. The little angel breathes regularly. It is nice to hear this sound from the neighboring room while you fall asleep again.

06:00 in the morning. Your wife hits you with the pillow. Like every morning, when you don't turn off your alarm clock after a microsecond. She gets her good morning kiss and you head off to the gym. You're always one of the first of the team to get there. The janitor already knows you. They call you the Swiss clockwork. Always on time, always reliable. Discipline is everything. You have the chance to live out your passion for ice hockey here. You've been on the ice since you were eight years old, and you've been a professional for four years. In Canada. An absolute dream!

10:00 a.m. Press conference. You're just 18 and you've managed to get signed by the London Knights as a European. Your stepping stone into the National Hockey League. Everything is still terribly exciting. But you are a sporting prodigy. And you've spent your whole life preparing for this moment. You speak English and French fluently. Despite the double burden, you skipped a year of school and graduated with honors. And your girlfriend is pregnant. It was not planned. But it happened. And you are both very happy.

The nursery is already furnished. Above the crib a poster of you. You have to expect that you will not see your son for one or two weeks. But he should always have a picture of you in front of his eyes.

[wardenparker]

Sassenach and the Spaniard - ch 14

Pero Tovar x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst​

Delirious with sickness and near to death, Pero Tovar finds himself on the doorstep of a village outsider who nurses him back to health just before the winter snows descend. With a black cat for company, a mask on her face, and a biting wit that intrigues him, Pero comes to find out that his new companion is more than what she seems.  ✨  Inspired and influenced by Diana Gabaldon’s Outlander series. ✨ Reader is described as disabled and having hair long enough to cover part of her face.  

Rating: E for Explicit! 18+ just like this blog Word Count: 18.1k Warnings: **Blanket warnings for this fic include cursing, food mentions, references to previous sexual assault (multiple characters).** Pero versus the modern world, reader being an absolute cat mom, discussion of past lives, implications of past lives, wedding talk (I’m not sorry), more dubious Spanish. Vaginal sex, unprotected sex, outdoor sex, public sex, clothed sex,  Summary: Building a modern life with Pero may have ups and downs, but the way he adjusts shows just how glad he is to be with you again.  Notes: This is it, folx! The last chapter of Sassenach and Pero’s love story for the literal ages. Look out for the epilogue next week and then we’ll be moving on to the ✨6th✨ installment of the Soulmate universe!

Ch 1 ~ Ch 2 ~ Ch 3 ~ Ch 4 ~ Ch 5 ~ Ch 6 ~ Ch 7 ~ Ch 8 ~ Ch 9 ~ Ch 10 ~ Ch 11 ~ Ch 12 ~ Ch 13

Travel has changed. Pero exhales quietly when you stop your car - a different one than you had driven him around in first time. It had been a conversation about renting cars that he vaguely understood but just figured it was like borrowing a horse. The plane taking off had left him white knuckled and shaking and he didn’t know how people acted like it was normal. Although once you were in the air, it had become a smooth experience and he still couldn’t believe that he had traveled so far so quickly.

“Well…this is it. Home sweet home.” The apartment building you’ve been living in for years has looked the same since the day you moved in, and the off-white walls and brick trim are comforting after all these years. “Our apartment is on the fifth floor,” you tell him, pointing up at a set of windows with blue curtains and some plants visible on the inside of the sill. “Beth will be home from work in about a half hour. Which will give you time to meet your new cat roommate.”

It amuses Pero that you have a cat in this time as well. “Binx missed you.” He hums with a smirk on his face. “But she was happy with Wena when I left.” The building is huge, and he cannot imagine living so high, but it will provide a clear view of the surroundings.

“She was the best familiar I could have asked for. I guess I’m just not happy unless I have a mouser in the house.” You pop the trunk of your little car and reach in for the bags but Pero is there before you, lifting both bags easily and shooting you a sour expression for even thinking he would let you do otherwise. After seeing other men do the same at various places and in the airport there had been an explanation of the term ‘chivalry’ and he was appalled that you had not told him that he was expected to behave this way in your time. You had insisted that it wasn’t necessary, but he hadn’t let you lift anything beyond your own purse since.

The compartment on this car was most convenient and Pero slams it shut, shooting you a slightly sheepish look when it was too harsh. Shouldering the bags, he turns towards the building. “It does not have defenses.” He mutters to himself, remembering you say that there is no need for fortifications in your time. “Where is the stable for the horses, the animals?”

“People who have horses keep them separately. It is a luxury now. Almost everyone has a car but keeping horses is mostly for the rich.” The lobby of your building is accessible by a keypad that you punch a code into, and the mailman inside greets you with familiarity. Pete has been the postman for this building longer than you’ve lived here, so you smile reassuringly at Pero and introduce him to the kindly mid-50s man who brings the post every day. “Name on the mailbox will be changing soon,” you tell Pete with pride.

Pero watches the interaction with interest. He’s had to watch you, his own demeanor not very welcoming. He can tell that he cannot be quite so intimidating or threatening in this time.

“Pete’s a nice man.” You press the button for the elevator to bring you upstairs and lean into Pero’s side while you wait. “His wife throws this big Passover Seder every year and a giant Hanukkah party on the first night and they invite people that he knows from work. I used to go with Beth every year so she wouldn’t have to go alone. But I have a feeling she and Will will be throwing the parties now.” Your best friend and her soulmate are definitely those kinds of people - the hosts with the most, as you like to tease them. You won’t be surprised at all when Beth finally announces that she’s moving in with him.

Pero nods, recognizing the holidays from the communities that he had grown up around in Spain. “That sounds like a good thing. There was food and music and laughter every time I went to one.” He only remembers them with the innocence of youth, but it was always fun. His parents were happy and it makes him smile.

“Here we go.” The elevator doors open and you step forward, bringing him with you by the hand. “You flew in an airplane, this should be easy,” you tell him encouragingly. “You just press the floor number that you want to go to, and the elevator will lift or lower us to that floor.”

This is even more amazing than the stairs that moved on their own. His eyes widen and he grunts when the car lurches up and he grabs onto the side of the wall as the sensation of being lifted once again races through his stomach. “It will only take a minute.” The way he’s clutching the wall and your hand makes you smile and squeeze his hand gently in response.

“It is— so…sudden.” Pero huffs slightly, embarrassed that he is so affected by things that seem so normal to you and everyone else. “I will become accustomed to it.”

“And if you don’t like it, we can always take the stairs.” Five floors is a lot, but with so many things to adjust to, you wouldn’t begrudge Pero deciding that there are some that he doesn’t like or isn’t comfortable with.

He glowers at you slightly, taking it as an insult that he would not be man enough to handle this box you have him in. “No.”

“Okay.” All you can really do is nod, knowing the both of you have your stubborn moments like anyone else. Although maybe more often. When you get out of the elevator you show him down the hall, stopping in front of the door marked 5C. “This is it,” You tell him, pulling your key from your pocket. “I already sent the landlord a note asking for a key for you. It should be made for tomorrow. So you can come and go anytime you like.”

Pero looks at the key, frowning in concentration as he watches you use it. He doesn’t understand why a bar on the door is not good enough anymore, but he just considers it a modern thing and nods when the door swings open.

The agonized screaming of an obviously neglected, dramatic-as-hell cat is the very first sound you hear, and both you and Pero smile reflexively. “Hi, Bow-baby!” You laugh when the black and white cat comes trotting into view. “Mama brought you a new friend.”

The first gato had been wary of Pero, watching him with intelligent, wary eyes. This one is the complete opposite. The moment the fat black and white cat spots Pero, it’s like you do not exist. He makes a beeline for Pero, screaming his head off and immediately climbing his leg to get into the Spaniard’s arms. Apparently telling him about every wrong done to him as Pero blinks in bewilderment.

“Oh, I see how it is. Furry little traitor.” You grouse only for comedic effect, loving to see your usually picky cat go straight to your soulmate for attention. “It’s okay, amor. You can pick him up. He’s much cuddlier than Binx was.”

Reaching down, Pero pulls the cat up into his arms, rewarded with immediate head butts and the cat rubbing his scent all over him while purring loud enough to sound like the thundering of hooves. “It seems he likes you.” And it seems Pero returns the affection, or at least doesn’t hate it, from the way he is already scratching under Bowie’s chin and letting the cat inspect him fully.

His time with Binx is so recent in his mind that he doesn’t mind the affectionate cat. “At least you were not alone when you came home, bruja.”

“Not at all.” Leading him through to the back bedroom, you realize what a whirlwind you were in the morning you got the phone call from Sarah at the roadside. There is a mess left behind and you clear your throat slightly, obviously embarrassed. “This is our room…I, erm…I usually keep it neater than this…I was kind of in a hurry to get to you a few days ago…”

“I have lived in your bed before, sí?” Pero reminds you, unconcerned with mussed bedding and clothes thrown around. It does not matter to him, as long as you are here. “Does your ’roommate’ know what has happened? That I am here?”

“Yes.” That had happened immediately. As soon as you had hung up with him and Sarah, you had started texting Beth frantically. “She knows everything. I just don’t know how much she’s told Will — her soulmate.”

Pero hums, wondering if it would seem crazy to a man who had not witnessed your return like your friend had. He has to thank Beth for saving you when you came back through the Stones, getting you a healer.

“I mean, he knows about you,” you clarify quickly. “Beth doesn’t keep anything from him, including what happened to me. I just don’t know if she’s told him yet that you came home with me.” It had taken over a month for Will to stop looking at you like you might have a nervous breakdown at any second, but the discovery of Arwena’s grimoire among your grandmother’s things had been a convincing argument. After that, he had started to come around to the craziness of it all.

He grunts, holding the cat still as he looks around your room. It is all different from the room he had stayed in at the inn, but it must reflect you in your own time. Like your cottage had in his time.

“We’ll make it into both of our space.” For some reason his silence is making you nervous, even though grunts and huffs are practically a second language for Pero. “Or, if you hate it here, we can…we can find something else. I don’t really care as long as you’re happy.”

"Why would I hate it?" Pero asks, turning towards you with a quizzical expression on his face. "This is you." One hand leaves the cat to wave around the room. "All of this. It is – it is like your cottage. Telling me who you are here."

“I don’t know.” You shrug slightly, looking around and avoiding his eyes as you move to make space for his clothes in your dresser. “I just know that everything here is so different and I wouldn’t blame you in the least if you didn’t like it here.” It’s nerves, you tell yourself, trying to steady your own breathing. Bringing him home - to your actual home - is the scariest thing you’ve ever done. Even though he chose to come here, he didn’t really know what he was choosing until after he arrived.

Pero huffs, rolling his eyes at you. "Sí, it is much different, but I don't care." He tells you bluntly. "I want to be where you are, when you are. The only thing that will change that is if you no longer wish me here." You are unsettled and he doesn't like it. He doesn't want you to worry about him.

“Of course I want you here.” The idea that you ever wouldn’t is so unbelievable that you actually can’t even imagine it. “I’m sorry. This is just…I know it’s hard for you. And don’t tell me that it isn’t just to make me feel better, because I’ve also time traveled.” Shaking your head slightly, you come back across the room and take a very indignant Bowie out of his arms so you can situate yourself there instead. “I love you, and I’m happy that you’re here.”

"It is different." Pero hums, not denying that he is out of his element. "But I am warm, I have food in my belly, and you are here." He reminds you. "I am a simple man, maybe too simple in your time, but I am who I am."

“There’s nothing simple about having your needs met. Survival is still very hard for some people.” Holding on to him tightly, you blow out a breath when you hear the front door open and Bowie hiss dramatically from the hallway. “Sounds like Beth is home,” you laugh, knowing that a cursing match between your best friend and grumpy cat is all but assured each and every day. “Would you like to meet her?”

"Will she approve?" He asks, suddenly nervous. You had spoken about this Beth woman and how much she had meant to you. Now he is afraid that he might not live up to her approval.

“You have nothing to worry about.” If anything, Beth is endlessly curious about Pero. She has been hearing about him for months, and you doubt you’ve done any description of him justice.

He would do anything you want, including meeting your friend so he just nods and wipes his hands on his new jeans. The shoes you had bought him, ‘sneakers’, were comfortable and he rocks on them slightly.

“Bethy!” Calling her name out into the hall, you step out of your room with Pero’s hand tangled in yours. “We’re home.”

Pero holds your hand tight, eyes widening slightly when he hears a screeching that is undoubtably excited and hears the pounding of foot steps rushing towards the two of you.

“Wait wait wait wait wait!” But you’re already cackling as your best friend launches herself at you, practically jumping up into your arms excitedly. “I missed you, too,” you laugh, hugging Beth tightly.

It is exuberant, the type of greeting Pero had seen Arwena give you during those last lessons in the cottage before having to flee. He can’t help but grin at the sight as he folds his arms over his chest and tries to smother it so he can look serious.

"Beth." You're both still giggling, but you try to compose yourself long enough to talk. "This," you motion to the man beside you as Beth sets herself on her own two feet again. "Is Pero. Pero, this is my best friend, Beth."

Pero nods to the woman who you call your best friend. It’s shocking to see her, because she looks nothing like he had imagined from your glow descriptions of her. She is pretty, but doesn’t hold a candle to you. “Señorita.” He murmurs.

"The famous Pero Tovar." Beth is practically vibrating with excitement, truly not having thought that this day would ever come. Though she believed your story completely, she never really thought that your soulmate would be able to come through the Stones. When you had texted her a few days ago that he was successful, she had been in a state of near shock all morning. "Welcome to the twenty-first century."

Pero grunts, his lips twisting slightly and there is an amused gleam in his eyes. “Yes, where green and purple hair is now common.” He jokes, having asked you questions about the wild shades he has seen. Beth is sporting bright blue streaks in her black hair.

"Surely you can adjust to multi-colored hair in a world that also has every flavor of ice cream you can imagine." Beth grins. You had told her about Pero's brand new addiction to ice cream, and his unfortunate first encounter with brain freeze as a result.

He huffs, smirking slightly at her sass and nods. “It is more colorful.” He admits, not minding it at all and asking if you liked colors like that.

"Did you get screamed at by her demon child on the way in?" Beth asks, shaking her head on a grin. Bowie has unceremoniously disappeared, probably to his scratching tree in the living room.

“Gato?” Pero asks, sending you a confused look. “The cat is very loving.” He insists when Beth nods. The cat was very greedy for attention and was not happy when you took him away from Pero.

"Bowie and Beth aren't huge fans of each other," you tell him with a grin, seeing the frustrated twist on your best friend's face that your cat has clearly taken to Pero immediately.

"He's a menace!" She insists, throwing up her hands dramatically.

"He's a darling angel and my fluffy little son." You insist, knowing full well how ridiculous it sounds.

“He came right up to me and demanded to be held.” Pero tells her, watching her eyes widen and he can practically see the steam pouring out of her ears.

"Menace," she mutters again, shaking her head. At this point, though, she has somewhat of a sense of humor about it. If she didn’t, she'd have lost her mind at that cat a long time ago.

"So, are we seeing Will tonight?" Turning the topic away from your cat and onto her soulmate always perks her up, and you motion toward the living room to suggest a change of scenery. This way you can all at least be comfortable in the same space together.

“Will…” Pero murmurs the name, a flash of nostalgia for his friend from so long ago. “I knew a man named William once. His bow was—” Pero chuckles. “We had a lot of free drinks showing off his skills.”

"William was your best friend." Beth nods. "She...she told me all about you. You, and Arwena, and Briac. You're practically all she's talked about since she came back."

“That is—” Pero is surprised that you had talked so much about him, but his chest puffs out slightly in pride. “I can’t imagine there is much to have talked about.”

"Are you kidding?" In the living room, Beth kicks off her shoes and takes out her phone as she sits down in the armchair to let you and Pero sit together on the couch. "Adventure after adventure. And fighting monsters on the Great Wall of China? It's incredible." She smiles when her phone buzzes in her pocket, and then again more broadly when she taps the screen to open her text. "Um...so Will is finishing up at work and wants to know if he can bring over take-out to say 'welcome home'."

"It's up to you," you tell Pero honestly. Your internal clocks are five hours ahead of schedule thanks to jetlag and you'll end up crashing earlier than Beth and Will, but you don't want to overwhelm Pero with meeting more people after a full day of modern travel if that is going to exhaust him.

Pero immediately nods. “This is your home and he is your soulmate.” The feeling of being apart from you with the possibility of never seeing you again had made him wish that partners could never be parted. “But— what is ‘take out’?” He asks.

"Take out is ordering food from a restaurant but instead of eating it there, you bring it home with you." Leaning into his side on the couch, you shoot Beth a mischievous grin. "Ask him if Chinese is okay. We can put in an order to the place on the corner if he doesn't mind picking it up for us on his way over."

Pero’s eyes light up. “Chinese?” He demands, nodding quickly. “Yes. That—you told me about it. I want to eat that.” He nearly begs. “And ice cream.”

"There's Häagen-Dazs in the freezer." Beth shoots Pero a grin. "I picked some up as soon as your girl said you fell in love with it." She taps out a quick reply to her own soulmate, smiling all the while, and then opens a different app to order food. "Anything special I should add to our regular order?"

"Yeah..." You grin at Pero. "Spicy noodles and mandarin beef. And an extra order of fried dumplings." Since your 'usual' order is already quite large this should be enough food for lunch again tomorrow, but Pero has a way of making that food supply dwindle that you don't mind. It's not as though food was ever plentiful enough in his life before for him to eat his fill.

“There was this dish.” Pero tell her. “Roasted bird – duck, with a honey sauce on it.” He doesn’t know if they would have it now, but maybe. His mouth waters as he remembers it. “Do they have that too?”

"Peking duck?" Beth nods, mouth watering immediately. "It's my favourite. We're absolutely ordering one." Hell, if she could she'd be adding bottles of plum wine and enough fried ice cream for it not to matter that there's six different flavours of Häagen-Dazs already waiting in the freezer to be consumed.

“Yes. That.” Pero nods, nearly rubbing his hands together as he thinks about the tender and juicy meat. “It was the meal we had when we celebrated defeating the monsters.”

"It might be slightly different than you remember...being a thousand years later and all of that." Beth adds the duck to the order and ignores the growing total, knowing that this meal is a celebration all its own. "I'm glad that there are some things that transcend time, though. Delicious food being one of them."

“Food is food.” Pero huffs. “Some is better washed down with ale to ignore the taste. Some is good with water.”

“Food can be pleasurable.” Beth smirks as she gets up from her chair to grab a drink from the kitchen. “Especially when licked from the correct surface.”

Pero narrows his eyes before he leans over to you. “She is talking about—” He flushes slightly. “That thing that you told me about?”

“It doesn’t have to be chocolate syrup,” you chuckle softly at his reaction, knowing how crass he can be when he wants to. “I just suggested that because you love chocolate.”

“I do love chocolate.” Pero groans, reaching out and pulling you close. “And it would taste sweeter from your skin.”

“I guess you’ll have to make sure you save room for dessert then, won’t you?” The salacious wink you give him is met with a grin and you don’t hesitate to steal a kiss. “It’s a damn good thing we always have chocolate sauce in the fridge.”

He growls quietly and tugs you closer, not happy with such a brief kiss. “Bruja.” He hisses playfully, nipping your lip.

Pulled directly into his lap, you stifle a giggle and do your best to look very, very serious as you drag your knuckles along his jaw. “I thought you like that I’m a bruja?” You tease, knowing very well that he had said the words himself on more than one occasion.

“Never doubt that, mi sol.” Pero murmur, leaning into your touch and his eyes flutter quickly. “It is why you could come to me. His hands squeeze your ass possessively. “And why I am here now.”

“Does that make you a brujo? Is that even a word?” Whether it is or not, you’re just glad Beth hasn’t come back from the kitchen yet since your hips seem to grind down on his automatically at the grip of his large hands.

Pero snorts and shakes his head. “No.” He leans forward and drags his nose along your throat, pressing kisses with his lips along your warm skin. It does, but he is not going to admit that. Preferring to distract you.

“Pero…” He has this way of making your skin tingle everywhere and your eyelashes flutter when he kisses that part of your throat that has you whining in no time - and it’s nearly impossible to remind yourself that there is someone else in the apartment right now. “Estas siendo travieso, mi amor.” You’re being naughty, my love.

“Me gusta ser travieso.” I like being naughty. Pero grins against your skin and leans back to send you a smug wink. “I have not had enough of you.”

“If you’re gonna fuck on the couch, please put a towel down first.” Beth snorts, standing in the doorway with a glass of ginger ale in her hand and a smirk painted across her face.

“I promise,” you huff, cheeks more than a little warm with embarrassment as Pero’s fingers dig a little more into your hips.

Pero grunts and gives Beth a small shrug. “I will fuck her with your towel down then.” He agrees. “We will wait until you are not here.”

“Oh, I don’t care about that, I just don’t want to be watching tv in a pile of dry cum.” She shrugs matter-of-factly and steps back, waving as she goes. “I’ll be in my room until my boyfriend gets here! Have fun!”

Pero smirks as he admires your friend’s teasing, which has you looking as if you want to melt into the floor in embarrassment. “What is ’boyfriend’?” He’s learned that if he doesn’t understand something, it’s best to ask right away. “Is that what you call soulmates now?”

“Sort of?” Still perched in his lap, you turn your full attention back to Pero and shrug off Beth’s teasing. “A boyfriend is a man that you are having a relationship with, but you have not yet agreed to be married. Like when Arwena and Briac used to spend time at the cottage with us, I would have said they were ’boyfriend and girlfriend’ back then.”

Pero scowls slightly and shakes his head. “They have not agreed to wed? Why do they wait? They are soulmates.”

“Some people like to take their time with important life decisions, and some people dive right into them. It’s all personal preference.” Of course, his visa - no matter how legally or illegally it was obtained for you - does put you on a bit of a schedule. But 90 days is nothing for two people who are already married. The modern paperwork is merely a formality.

“There is more freedom in this time.” Pero admits. “For women. I can see that.”

“There is. But we still don’t have all the freedoms that men do.” Gender politics isn’t really top of your list for a discussion right now, though, and you tuck a stray hair behind his ear affectionately. “Honestly? I don’t think they will wait too much longer before they get engaged.”

“What is this William like?” Pero asks, sensing you aren’t enamored with the conversation.

“He’s a good man.” That much you can say without hesitation. “Competitive but caring, loyal, and very helpful. And he makes Beth happy, which is what matters most to me.”

Pero nods and squeezes your ass again. There have been a lot of changes for him, but for you as well. “She likes me, sí?” He asks, suddenly nervous that the reason Beth left was because she did not like him.

“If she didn’t, she would still be here interrogating you like a criminal.” You dip your head, kissing him softly and feeling the heat of just a few minutes ago melt away into sweetness and reassurance. “You have nothing to fear, amor.”

“I feel like a brat.” Pero complains, hating the unsettled way that he feels. He knows it’s because everything is different for him, and that he relies on you to make sure that he navigates this world properly. Still, he feels like he is a boy who knows nothing of the world.

“You have been in this world for only four days, love.” The frown on his face isn’t his usual scowl, but something far more sincere that makes you soften and sit back in his lap with your brows knit together. “I know it’s frustrating. Truly I understand. But you’re doing wonderfully. No one could learn an entirely new life in just four days.”

He sighs, knowing you’ve seen his true meaning. “I know, but I should be able to.” He insists, being stubborn about it. “Perhaps I need to write things down.” You had started his writing and Wena had continued it during the year without you.

“Would you like a notebook for your thoughts?” A journal isn’t a terrible idea at all, actually, and you wonder that you didn’t think of it before. “We can certainly do that for you.”

“Paper is not costly anymore, is it?” He asks, amused at everything they considered luxuries in his time are common objects.

“Not anymore.” You shake your head, still smiling at him softly. You really just can’t help yourself. “And we have pencils now. Instead of ink, you write with something called graphite, which can be erased if you make a mistake.”

“Next you will tell me that scars can be removed.” Pero chuckles, not imagining such a thing to be possible. But then again, he never imagined things like a car or a plane. It makes him wonder about weapons.

“Welll…” The best you can do is shrug sheepishly. “In a way, yes. They can. It is expensive, but there are surgeons - special healers - that can do it.”

He tilts his head, thoughtful as he brushes the apple of your cheek and his thumb caresses the bottom of your scar. “Have you thought of such things?” He asks curiously. He knows scars are different for women than men, but he wants to know if you are trying to hide it here like you first had when he saw you.

“Why would I hide the marks that we share?” Nothing in the world could be less desirable to you, especially when he is here in front of you for you both to see the proof that you belong together.

“I do not see why.” Pero admits, but he leans in and kisses your brow, where the scar causes your hair to not grow. “But I am different from you.” He hums.

“Would you prefer to remove your scars?” It’s a decision that would be entirely up to him, although you have to admit it would surprise you. While Pero is proud, he has never struck you as particularly vain.

“No.” Pero immediately shakes his head. “I have noticed that women in this time are very…adorned.” He murmurs. “They wear a lot of face paint and put a lot of value on their beauty. I do not wish you to be upset because of what that bastard did to you.”

“I don’t care what anyone else thinks.” Certainly you’ve gotten more than your fair share of funny looks in the last six months, but it doesn’t bother you as much as you thought it might. Your scar shows you have survived. It’s as simple as that. “As long as you love me, that is all that matters.”

“Siempre.” Pero murmurs, turning his head to kiss you again. Always.

The knock on the door keeps things from getting carried away, and Beth buzzes past in the hallway to let William inside with dinner. She’s practically squeaking with excitement - never one to hide how she feels about anything - and you climb out of Pero’s lap reluctantly to take the heavy bags of take-out from his hands. Dinner sounds great, but you’ll definitely be saving room to have Pero for dessert later on.

The smells take him back. To that large dining hall filled with soldiers. Closing his eyes, he can almost see the wooden tables ladened down with bowls of rice and plates of bread, the fragrant meats and vegetables to be spooned over the top. It was probably the best he had ever eaten as a man until your cottage. He’s taken back to China as he inhales, so when he opens his eyes, they settle on the man who had brought the food and he gasps. “William!”

“Oh! Uh…hello!” Will isn’t sure what the expectation is in this situation, but he puts his hand out automatically to great the odd man in his soulmate’s living room. There probably isn’t a protocol for meeting your soulmate’s roommate’s time traveling soulmate, but he’s just going to be nice and hope that’s enough.

He’s staring, and he knows he’s staring, but he can’t help it. Grabbing the other man’s hand, Pero drags him closer, the sight of him almost too much even though he knows this cannot be his William Garin. He looks exactly like his old friend. Right down to the gold flakes in the blue of his eyes.

“Pero, right?” He knows. He’s heard all about the intense warrior from your stories. But he hadn’t expected to feel so…connected to the man. Especially one that he arguably has nothing in common with. He can’t deny the tug in his gut, though. The one that says he is supposed to know this man.

Pero nods, eyes narrowing and his grip on William’s hand increases in pressure. “Who are your people?” He asks gruffly. “Where do you come from?”

“Chicago.” The question seems strange when this man knows barely anything about America, but William holds the handshake and Pero’s eyes. “We’re Irish, if that’s what you mean? Irish and English.” Is this how medieval people used to greet each other? If it is, it’s weird.

“Irish.” Pero huffs, rolling his eyes and he looks over at you. He knows he looks crazy. “He is the spitting image of the bastard I left in China. The same one I had parted with right before I met you.”

“Really?” That shakes off your concern right away, and the effect is like dominoes. You relax, so Beth does, and Will does as well. “I’m getting really good at ancestry research, maybe we can figure out if Beth’s Will is related to your William?”

“Did you have a rumor of China in your family?” Pero asks Will, finally letting go of his hand. He flexes his hand and huffs out a laugh. “And do you shoot better than anyone else?”

“I was Army before I started my security company, so I’m— yeah, I mean, I was a sniper. You have to be a good shot.” Will follows you and Beth with the bags of food and Pero is at your other side as the four of you file into the dining room. “But China?” He thinks for a second, hands automatically moving when Beth takes things out of the hutch and starts to pass plates and flatware around. “I know my great-grandma loved Chinese stories. Like fairy tales and stuff. But I don’t know if she thought we were Chinese.”

“William— my friend, he stayed in China after we defeated the monsters.” Pero tells him. “He married a General of the Nameless Order.”

William’s head pops up in surprise, and he sets the plate in his hands down much more heavily than he meant to. “The Nameless Order was real?”

“You have heard of it.” Pero nods, sure that this man is somehow related to his friend.

“My great-gran’s stories.” The younger man shakes his head in disbelief. “She would tell us folklore as bedtime stories when she babysat us growing up. Some Gaelic stories, American folktales, but mostly Chinese. I just thought she was really into Chinese history.”

“We went to China in search of black powder.” Pero tells all of you. “It took us nearly a year to get there, we lost all of the men we traveled with, nearly thirty.”

“Thirty?” Beth’s jaw drops a little as she brings cans of soda to the table. “And a whole year? Jesus. Where were you traveling from?”

“We started in Brittany.” Pero smirks slightly. “Although if I had met Sassenach, I would not have gone.” He jokes, knowing he had been a far different man before China. One you wouldn’t have put up with him.

“We would have had a much different meeting.” You can’t even imagine what it would have been like to just run into him in the village or meet him on the road. Your relationship would have been very different right off the bat.

“Yes we would have.” Pero can admit that and he reaches for your hand to pull you into his side. “I much prefer you saving me.”

“I much prefer you surviving your illness as well.” He earns a kiss for saying something so sweet, though, and you urge him to sit down next to you afterward.

“But William was the most annoying Irish bastard that I’ve ever met.” He grumbles, even with a fond smile on his face. “Impossible to kill.”

“We must be related then,” Will jokes, laughing as he and Beth start to open containers and pass dishes around. “My brother’s the most annoying shit in the world. And I never did manage to kill him when we were kids.”

Pero snorts and shakes his head. “He was like my brother. Making me want to kill him. Nearly getting blown up because of him, twice.”

“Sounds like a brother to me.” William laughs. “Blood brothers, brothers in arms, it’s all the same. You love them but you wanna strangle them with your bare hands sometimes.”

“Absolutely.” Pero grunts, relaxing a little bit more now that William understands the bond he shared with the other William.

Plates are filled in just a few minutes’ time and everyone digs into dinner. Bowie’s mournful yowls from the other room are only squelched when the cat wanders in and twists his body up at Pero’s feet, making Beth huff indignantly, and you and William only laugh.

“What?” Pero frowns as he reaches down and slips the cat a bit of the duck and scratches behind his ears until his purrs sound like a loud motor. “He is a good gato.”

“I’m apparently the only person in the world that he doesn’t like,” Beth complains, but there is a smile underneath it. It’s been so long now that it’s almost an affectionate joke.

“Maybe he doesn’t like you because of his past life.” Pero suggests, still scratching his ears.

"What do you mean?" Asks Beth, who obviously was not expecting that answer.

“Cats have lives. Many of them. Just like we do.” He explains. “Maybe your previous life intersected with his.”

"So...Bowie doesn't like me because of something that happened between us in a previous life?" It's as good an explanation as any, Beth decides, and she picks up a piece of duck from her plate to offer to the typically bristly feline. "In case, Bow, I sincerely apologize."

There’s a moment where Pero, probably everyone else in the room too, thinks that Bowie will hiss or swat at the offering. There is the slight sniff from the tuxedo cat, as if to say ’about damn time’, and he stretches away from Pero to take the morsel of duck from Beth’s hand and even brushes his cheek against her skin, marking her with his scent. Seemingly accepting the apology.

"Well I'll be damned." The whole table seemed to hold their breath but when Beth laughs in surprise, everyone exhales in relief. "I guess the war is over?"

Pero smirks slightly when Bowie yowls in agreement and curls up next to her feet, settling down to nap.

******

After the intrigue of that first dinner together, Pero and Will’s friendship blossomed immediately. His social circle grew to include some of Will’s previous gym buddies and friends from work, and though Pero isn’t necessarily social by nature it has helped immensely in getting him settled into his new life. Will had even had Pero into the office a few times in the last month and he was now talking like joining his security firm might be a chosen career path.

Pero comes rushing into the apartment, opening the door and stomping towards your shared bedroom. He hadn’t quite gotten into the habit yet of walking softly when he’s exited much to your downstairs neighbor’s dismay. He throws open the door and pins you with a harsh stare. “When were you going to tell me?” He huffs, feelings obviously hurt.

“Tell you what?” The pair of jeans in your hands crumbles instead of getting folded neatly, and you look at Pero with utter confusion. “What’s wrong?”

“You said that modern marriages are very ‘low key’ things. Basically just signing a piece of paper.” He frowns and shakes his head. “This is not true.”

Shit. You slump a little, feeling caught, and wonder what the guys must have said to him at the gym today. “They can be, amor. There is no law that says we have to have a big, fancy wedding.”

Pero frown grows even deeper, eyes shuttering slightly. “Are you— do you not wish to have a wedding?” He asks quietly, wondering if you are ashamed of him as your soulmate. He has been working hard to adapt, but maybe it is not enough.

“I wish to have a marriage.” You stress the word, laying down the jeans from your hands and coming to put your arms around him. The rate at which he has been adjusting to modern life is fairly astounding, but you see how hard he works every day to do things ‘right’ and how much having friends has helped him. “We have already had a wedding. In Gretna. And it was beautiful. I didn’t think we needed to make a fuss out of the second one. But obviously you feel differently?”

He nods. “You deserve it. Our vows were rushed and while beautiful, you deserve a party for putting up with me.” He smirks slightly at his joke. “What is a bachelor party? William said I must have one and you must have a…a woman’s party.” He cannot remember the term his friend had used, but it sounded like it was necessary to a wedding.

“Will wants to throw you a bachelor party?” That honestly makes you chuckle a little, and you squeeze your arms around his waist in a gentle hug. “It is a party to celebrate a man who is getting married and also mourn the loss of his time as a single man. Usually, the other men of the wedding party take the groom out and get him very drunk, feed him well, and sometimes take him to see women dance with very little clothing on. The version for the bride is mostly the same, but sometimes instead of dancing men, women will go and have their own fun. Dancing or pampering themselves. It all depends on what the bride and groom like.”

Pero frowns slightly and tries to imagine seeing a woman that is not you without her clothes on. “I do not wish to watch some woman who is not you dance.” He huffs, finally figuring out why everyone chuckled when Will had told him that he would take him to the ‘club’.

“Then you don’t have to.” It’s actually quite charming and romantic, how deeply loyal Pero is and how he doesn’t even like to look at models in clothing ads. “You can do anything you like at your bachelor party. You just have to tell Will what you want it don’t want.”

“Yes, I will tell him.” Pero nods and turns the conversation back to you. “Be truthful.” He murmurs. “Would you like to have a wedding here with your friends and family?” He asks. “We had one we think of often with Briac and Arwena, should we not here?”

“Big weddings cost a lot of money.” And the practical part of you says that you’ve already had a wedding - so why bother? But there is also the part of you that wonders what a modern white wedding with Pero would even be like. “We couldn’t do anything too big anyway, since we only have two more months on your visa. But…” The shrug you give him is somewhat sheepish, as you can feel the warmth in your cheeks admitting it. “I wouldn’t mind a celebration. I do want you to meet my family at some point, and a wedding would definitely make that happen.”

“You said we could do what we wanted, sí?” Pero asks. “That would be fun. Tell me what all a modern wedding requires?”

“Well…” Out in the living room, you sit down on the couch together and you pull out your phone to show him some pictures of wedding aesthetic boards and other ‘typical’ American wedding images. “We would rent out a place we think is pretty, hire people to cook and serve our food, have lots of flowers, and have a big cake to serve to everyone for dessert. The reception has lots of dancing and I’m supposed to wear a special white dress. You would have at least one person stand with you and sign our marriage certificate as your witness, and I would have one as well. At the reception people sometimes make speeches, or just wish us well in our married life. And there is a rehearsal dinner the night before where we practice the ceremony so everyone knows what they’re doing. It’s…a lot of work, honestly. But we would have a photographer there to take pictures like these so we can remember our day for the rest of our lives. It’s…like I said, it’s a lot of work, but weddings can be really special and really fun.”

“Do you want to do it?” The last thing that he wants is to make more work for you, but it does sound fun. Especially since he’s found that he loves pictures. To be able to see something to remember it is incredible. And to be able to have pictures of your modern marriage would be very nice.

“What if we did a small version of it?” It’s clear to you, from the concern and small amount of excitement on his face, that Pero likes the idea of a wedding. And god knows your parents would be over the moon about it. It’s no sacrifice at all when you know it will make the people you love happy and you’ll end up enjoying the day very much in the end. “Just my family and our close friends? I’m sure we can find some place that can accommodate us in the next few weeks.”

“How about outside?” Pero asks, finding there is a lot of natural places around your apartment building. “We could go to that place you showed last week.”

“The garden that we had lunch in with Beth and William and Beth’s abuela?” Pero’s affinity for gardens had taken you only slightly by surprise, but it has been fun to show him all the different plants and flowers that thrive in tropical temperatures he had never seen or experienced before. “Amor, that was Beth’s abuela’s house. I—I suppose we could ask her.” It never would have occurred to you, but Beth’s grandmother has literally won prizes for her gardening and her house is beautiful. It might even be a historical landmark, now that you’re thinking about it. “It might be much easier to have a wedding at a house, if she is okay with it. And of course I’ll offer to pay her for the trouble.”

Pero nods. “The abuela needed some work done. I can do it for her as well.” He offers, knowing that he will always try to barter even though it’s not normal now.

“Let’s ask Beth if she thinks her grandmother would be open to it when we see them for dinner tonight.” A week after Pero had returned, Beth and William had very gently announced that they were moving in together, and now the four of you have dinner together a few times a week on top of any girl time you spend with Beth or guy time that Pero spends with Will.

Pero pulls out the notebook he has started carrying. “We should write it down. What we want, sí?” He asks you hopefully, grinning because you are agreeing to have a wedding for him. You had said something about going down to the courthouse and signing some papers and that being it.

“We can absolutely make a list.” It’s very sweet, the way Pero has been carrying his notebook with him everywhere. The pocket-sized moleskin fits in his jeans or jacket and always has a pencil tucked inside it’s pages. Since his written English has improved, he has been very excited to employ it at every turn. “Would you like to have a very traditional wedding, amor? They can be very formal. But lots of younger couples these days do things less formally. It can be whatever we like.”

“I do not know what you mean, but I don’t think we would enjoy it if it was too rigid, amor.” He looks over at you. “William said most women dream of their wedding. What did you dream of?”

“You’ll laugh.” Or at least, most people would. But you roll your eyes at yourself and start looking for reference images for what you’re about to describe to him. “You know that television show I watch sometimes? The noble lady who does not wear shoes?” Your affinity for Ina Garten’s Barefoot Contessa had come back full force since returning home, and you find you love it even more now for the way it sometimes reminds you of life in the cottage in Brittany. The Barefoot Contessa’s generally French-inspired and ‘earthy’ upscale entertaining reminded you sometimes of the plates of vegetables, fruit, cheese, and cured meats you would put together for you and Pero. Simple dressings and dips and good bread had been something that you could use to make yourself feel particularly fancy. “I always imagined having a wedding like she would throw. In a beautiful garden with simple but really delicious food that goes late into the night because everyone is having so much fun eating and dancing and talking.”

“I will hunt for it.” Pero offers immediately, imagining bringing back game for you, for the wedding. “Roasted rabbit and a deer?” He asks, wondering if it would good. “Open spit? Like how I used to cook when we were traveling. Hunger made everything delicious, but I’ve wondered how it would taste with your herbs.”

“You could tell William that you want to go hunting for your bachelor party,” you offer, knowing that it’s something William and his friends also enjoy and that a weekend hunting trip would be right up all of their alleys. “There has to be a catering company somewhere this part of Florida that will agree to let us supply the meat and they’ll do all the cooking for us.”

“You could do one of those people that you watch on your…phone.” Pero frowns for a moment as he had forgotten the name of the device that seems to do everything for everyone in this time. Everyone is attached to it like it is their swords. “The people that come to you a cook? What was the word?”

“Caterers?” The nod you give him is fully encouraging. “Yes, I think we could find a caterer willing to cook what you hunt.” He writes it down when you speak the word for him and you smile again. “No one would know that your hunting is how you won a first kiss from me, but we will know.”

Pero smirks at the memory and bites his lip, his eyes flashing playfully. “I was showing off.” He admits. “I knew I could do it, but when you told me my prize was a kiss? I had to snare the rabbit.” He chuckles and leans in to steal another kiss. “Best hunt I ever went on.”

“With the longest lasting prize.” You hum into the kiss happily, settling into his side on the sofa. “Now…I know you will be excited about this. Modern weddings have elaborate and delicious cakes for dessert. And the bakery down in the corner that you like makes some beautiful ones.”

Pero groans, his love of food had definitely grown in this time. The sweets available mind blowing to a man who had only ever known honey or fruits as a source of sugar. The trips to the gym with William had been needed so he continued to fit the clothes you had bought him. “We must have that.” He decides, writing it down immediately and circling it for good measure. He’s enjoyed making his journal and re-reading through it when he feels unsure of himself, like training constantly when he was a boy.

“Yes, but what flavour will we have?” For a man who lived most of his life leanly, it has been the height of luxury for Pero to be able to eat whatever he wants at the drop of a hat, and your modern wedding day is no time to squelch that. You want him to have the most enjoyment he possible can.

His eyes lighting up at the prospect, Pero hums and his stomach grumbles on queue. “We will have to try them all and decide.” He announces, imagining going to that bakery and buying all the little cakes to stuff into his mouth happily. Everything in this time was so sweet and he was quickly addicted to it.

“We’ll get a cupcake in every flavour and try them all together.” You promise him, chuckling at how excited he is. “And then we can pick our favourite for our wedding cake. It will be a feast.”

That makes him grin, nodding quickly at that idea. It means that he will have dessert for at least a few days. Or he will make himself sick by eating them all at once. That has happened a few times. “What else do we need for a modern wedding?” He asks, not sure about everything involved.

“We’ll find someone to play music for us, and someone to take pictures for us.” He takes notes as you go and you press a kiss to his cheek with a grin. “You will need someone to be your best man and I will need someone to be my maid of honour. The people who stand next to us while we’re married and will sign our marriage certificate as witnesses.”

“Like Briac and Arwena.” Pero knows that you could have married with just Father Malcolm but both of you wanted the younger couple with you.

“Exactly.” He knows you’ve been missing the younger couple lately - he walked in on you telling Bowie stories of time spent with Arwena about a week ago. “Should we ask Beth and Will?”

Considering it for a moment, Pero nods. “It is a good choice.” There are more things about William that have Pero comparing him to the man he had traveled with to China and he has quickly become as close - although they have not battled together. “I will ask Will tonight.”

“I have a feeling this will be all we talk about at dinner.” And considering how adamant Beth has been about doing something wedding-y, you have a feeling she’ll be thrilled. “I’ll have to go without you to buy my dress. Superstitions say it’s bad luck for you to see my dress before the wedding.”

Pero frowns hard at this, but he eventually sighs when you just stare at him for a moment. “Truly? That is stupid.” He grunts, not having any clue what this dress shopping would include, but seeing a dress is not bad luck.

The way you smirk at him is nearly evil, knowing he’s going to be pouting even harder in just a second. “And we’re not allowed to spend the night together the night before the wedding. That’s bad luck, too.” And something you know your superstitious mother will enforce when she arrives, all in the name of caution and care.

“No.” Shaking his head, Pero’s scowl turns fierce. “Not happening. No way.” He’s adopted the phrase ‘no way’ from Will and it is very true here. “I don’t want to sleep apart from you.”

“I knew you wouldn’t like that.” The way this man love is fierce and doting, and you adore him for it. “We don’t have to sleep apart, amor. It’s just a superstition.”

“If you wanted to adhere to the superstition…I will deal with it.” He sighs with a very pouty huff as he reaches for your hand. “It is one night and I had far more without when you went through the Stones.”

“All the more reason not to waste the time we have now.” Never having been a particularly superstitious person despite being raised by one, you could care less. The reason you want to go dress shopping without him is to surprise him - not because of luck.

“Te amo.” Pero murmurs, unable to stop himself from stealing another kiss. “Flowers? Why do you need flowers? People are bathing regularly.”

"Because they're beautiful." You shrug, as though it were a silly answer. "Flowers are traditional for weddings, and people like to match their flowers to the colors they pick for the day. Make everything look coordinated." It's a lot of fuss, and you never intended to do all of this with him - but on the other hand? Now that you've started to plan, it is a little exciting.

“Colors?” Pero can’t even comprehend what you are meaning by that but he nods and writes it down. “What flowers would you want? Do you have a favorite?”

"Colors are...to make everything look nice, I guess." There's really no better way to describe it. "We can pick a couple of colors that look nice together, like...like green and yellow. Or blue and gray. And we would use those colors throughout the wedding. Like Beth would wear a dress in one of the colors or your suit might be in the other. The cake might be decorated with the colors, too. And I would probably have my flowers include the colors, too." Not that you have ever thought about wedding colors - not beyond thinking that your cousin's orange and pink wedding was a little too garish for your taste.

“Grey.” Pero decides immediately. “I like grey.” Shopping for clothes has introduced him to a plethora of colors but he has several shades of grey.

"Okay, we can work with that." Nodding into his side, you snuggle up again easily. "Grey and silver are pretty easy to work with. And almost any other color works with gray." Smiling, you tilt your head back and raise an eyebrow at him. "How about purple? We can be royalty for a day."

“Don’t you like green?” He asks, raising the question since he’s seen you wear a lot of that color. He will agree to anything you want honestly, but he doesn’t want you to pick colors he likes alone.

"I do." Words you will say to him in completely different context in just a few weeks’ time. "I like green and I also like purple. Actually...all three colors work together. We could have gray, green, and purple together?"

“That would work.” Pero bites his lip and thinks about it. “If you like it, that is what we will have.”

"I like it." And the purple bouquet with lots of greenery tied in a silky gray ribbon is already starting to take shape in your mind. You never really expected flowers to be the thing you fantasized about for your wedding, but here you are. "And I think you would look very handsome in a gray suit."

“Sí?” William had taken him to get a suit for the work that he wanted him to do. Pero found it rather restricting, but you had been very interested in it when he had shown you it to ask your opinion.

“Sí.” You tell him, a grin cracking the solemnity on your face. “A well-tailored suit is a thing of beauty, amor. Just the way you love when I wear a bikini to the beach, I enjoy seeing you in one.”

His expression is wolfish, about to devour you at just the mention of it. “The only thing better is having you naked, amor, and they would not allow that on your beaches.”

“I know another wedding thing you will like quite a lot.” You tease, sitting up in his arms to be nose-to-nose and grinning at him unrepentantly. “The brand new lingerie I will be buying to wear under my wedding dress just for my husband to take off of me that night.”

Pero growls, cock jumping in his pants and he narrows his eyes at you. “First you tell me I cannot sleep beside you, fuck you, the night before our wedding. Now you tease me with knowing something sexy is underneath it?” Sexy is another word he has learned and he uses it often where you are concerned. “I will drag you off over my shoulder once the vows are spoken, bruja.”

“You would not be the first groom to do it, either.” It draws a light laugh from you, and ringing your arms around his shoulders to hug him. “Our honeymoon will be nothing but sex, I can already see it.”

“The last one would have been more sex.” He reminds you, both of you now able to talk about you being so sick without breaking down. The first time you coughed around him after getting here, he had demanded you see a healer.

"I think we've been making up for lost time pretty well, don't you?" Since you have been working from home and Pero is doing some small freelance things for Will's security firm, you have had ample opportunity to fuck on every surface in the apartment. Multiple times.

“We have.” Pero smirks smugly, thinking about how he had woken you up this morning before he had been picked up so he could slide inside you. Both of you had rolled out of bed with a satisfied grin on your face.

"I, um..." Shifting slightly, you sit back on your ankles bite your lip. A thought had occurred to you about a week ago and you're not sure how he might feel about it. "I had a thought. About our honeymoon..."

Pero catches your hesitancy and frowns slightly, but he nods in order to get you to expand on your idea. “You wish to sleep apart? I will not do that. Not when you will be my wife. Never again.”

"Oh no way." You shake your head adamantly, trying to figure out where that idea even came from. "No, no, not at all. I meant I had an idea about where to go, that's all."

“Oh.” The jokes William and the others that he was around had made about Pero having to sleep on the couch after he got married were apparently wrong. The couch was comfortable and he had dozed on it, but he wanted to sleep on the bed where his wife is sleeping. “Where?”

"What if we went back to France?" The memories you have of the place aren't all positive, obviously, but everything involving him is wonderful. "I looked up the village that the cottage was near and...I mean, I'm not saying that I think our cottage would still be standing after a thousand years, but the village is still there. And I thought it might be romantic to go back there in our new life. To...remember."

“Yes.” His answer is immediate, almost forceful and he can see that it startles you slightly. “Sí.” He murmurs, reaching for your hand to hold it gently. “I would like to see it again. Where we found each other. I am certain I can find where the cottage stood.”

"Things will have changed a lot of the centuries, amor. It's okay if we don't find it." All you want is to breathe the air again, to feel those specific sunbeams and be in that place again with nothing but comfort and joy.

He hums, doubting that every natural marker the landscape had was removed. He will find your little cottage that he had shared with you. “We will find it.”

******

Dol-de-Bretagnac has grown since the eleventh century, rising up to swallow the little village you once called home and bringing it through the centuries beautifully. The inn you're staying in for your honeymoon is one of a dozen converted medieval estates in the area, but not a house you recognize from the first time you were in Brittany. It's newer than that, but so is almost everything.

The wedding had gone beautifully, and your family adore Pero, characterizing him as 'intense but charming' and they had just about gone crazy when they found out that the beautiful game meats they were eating for dinner had been the result of his bachelor hunting party. Your mother had practically batted her eyelashes at how masculine it was for him to provide for you like that.

Today is your second day in Brittany - with yesterday being spent either in bed or at a meal - and you had chosen to leave the rental car at the hotel and go for a walk through the narrow streets of town. Being married all over again feels like more of a relief than anything else. Like you're finally back to where you're meant to be.

“It is different.” Pero admits, looking around and huffing. Luckily some key pieces have been constant. The old town Well was preserved and from that, Pero can tell where your cottage was. “This was where I met Briac.” He motions towards a newer shopping center that had replaced the old buildings.

“There is still a bakery in the same place.” Pointing to a different part of what used to be the village center, there is a little boulangerie now standing where the baker’s shop once stood. “I doubt they still have his ovens, but it’s nice that it is accidentally consistent.”

“Yes.” The hands that are not pointing out pieces of your old life are firmly entwined, fingers laced together and you look like two soulmates should in this time. Two tourists, although you have more history in this village than the people here, or at least ancient history. Pero had been nervous about meeting your family and the wedding, but it had been nothing like the immigration interviews. Since he was a soulmate, he was guaranteed a ‘green card’, approval to stay with you, but Pero had taken offense to the man’s attitude and it had nearly made the entire process more difficult. “I wonder if the people now ever think of what came before. Without going to their museums.” He grunts as he remembers the stone church being much smaller than the one that is in its place.

“Oh shit.” You practically snort, giggling at him with wide eyes. “I never even considered that some of our things could be in a museum. What if the people who built where the cottage used to be had found bottles or tools or something?” Or even your cauldron, which would have given you a good giggle.

Pero snorts and shakes his head. He would not be happy about that if he were honest. “Why don’t we go see what is there?” He asks, smirking at you. “Visit your cottage?”

“Our cottage.” It doesn’t matter that you lived there without him for years - it was the first home you shared together and you will always think of it that way.

“You are a generous woman, Sassenach.” His tone is gruff, thick with emotion. A woman independent of a man was rare in his time and you willingly giving him what was rightfully yours even more so. It humbles him more than you ever could know.

The walk from the old village center is still a long hill, but the winding streets of this modern town are lined with shops and restaurants and homes. Businesses and offices have taken up where trees used to be, and the vast fields that lined your walk are filled with schools and more houses of worship. It is very different, and yet not so very hard to imagine what was once here, as you walk the once-worn road that led out of your small village.

“How are you feeling?” He asks, watching the changing landscape and imagining it as it once was. If he had not walked this land one thousand years prior, he would never have known it was the same place.

"Like I ought to be pulling my cart." You admit, holding tight to his hand. The uneven, cobblestone streets give you a little trouble with your lack of depth perception, but he makes sure that you never stumble. "I half expect to see Binx waiting for me at the bottom of the hill."

“She was a good gato.” Pero murmurs, feeling the same way. The opinionated cat had annoyed him at the start, but her loyalty to you and then Arwena had been admirable. “She was a clever thing.”

"She loved you." Both of your cats have adored him, which makes you happier than you can say. Bowie yowled his displeasure when you left for the airport yesterday, refusing to let go of him until Beth had arrived to see you off and check in with her furry charge. The truce between your cat and best friend has held, and she's promised to look after Bowie while you and Pero are on your honeymoon.

“Because I love you.” Pero points out. He had no question that if he had dishonorable intentions, your cat would have attacked him ferociously. “If I was a bastard, she might have tripped me off that roof.” He chuckles quietly, remembering how the cat had watched him patch the roof with the most judgmental expression he has ever seen on a feline.

"Does that mean you already loved me when you decided to fix my roof?" It's just a tease, the way you smirk at him, but the notion of it does make your heart swell a little in your chest.

He huffs at you, rolling his eyes and squeezing your hand. You both know that it wasn’t exactly true, but he had been unsettled by you from the beginning. Who knows? It might have been love. “I didn’t want to freeze.” He grumbles playfully.

"Nah." You grin, swinging his hand in yours playfully as you walk together. "You loved me. You're just a sweet, soft man. But don't worry, I won't tell."

Pero growls but it’s not in annoyance. Maybe a little annoyance that he’s so soft for you. It is such a change from the man he had been before you, but his other option is not to have you and he doesn’t want to ever think of that again.

“Grumpy and blushing.” Your grin turns into a giggle as you lean into his side in the walk. “That’s my man.”

“Bruja.” Pero mutters under his breath, no heat to his words. There are times when he wishes the magic was as strong now as it was back then, he would make you fly up in the air to hear you shriek.

“I miss it,” you admit, turning right with him at the bottom of the hill just like you were headed back to that little stone cottage with your garden and small barn. In this time your potions are only mildly effective and the powerful light or flame you once conjured is barely better than candlelight. “And I wish I could have seen what Wena taught you.”

“You wish to see me curse and throw things in frustration?” Pero had always been careful not to do it in front of the girl, knowing the abuse she had suffered at the hands of her father, but sometimes he had just needed to vent his underlying worry that he would not be able to learn.

“I wish that it could have been something we shared.” Ultimately, you missed out on a year of his life that you should not have had to miss - although if you hadn’t this walk would be very different. You might never have come back to Brittany for the rest of your lives if you had not had to come home.

“Perhaps we should try our magic together.” Pero murmurs softly, aware of how crazy it sounds but he is a man from a thousand years ago, walking on these grounds again because of magic. Surely together it would be stronger.

"Perhaps we should." Linking your fingers through his as you walk, you look up at him with a curious twist of your lips. "What would we try?"

“I— hmmmm.” That is an interesting question. “We will have to think of something, amor. First, let us find our cottage.”

The curve of the lane follows the curve of the old road that you remember so well, but the sight in far different than it once was. Private homes line what used to be the woods in the distance, but there is an enormous tree standing in what looks like a small garden just across the street from where you and Pero now stand. "Hazelnuts," you hum, seeing the clusters of nuts in the branches. "The baker and his wife would trade anything for fresh hazelnuts..."

“I remember you digging for them.” He thinks back to those trips to the woods while you were gathering the last of the herbs before they wilted under the snow and the hazelnuts were always wanted. “The bread was always tasty and fresh.”

"I know it's easier to buy them from the grocery store, but I do miss foraging sometimes." Crossing the street with him, your hand is still in his as you approach the enormous, gnarled tree. "Maybe when we finally buy a house, I'll start another garden."

Pero counts the paces and looks around back up the hill. “This is it.” He murmurs to himself, then squeezes your hand. “This is it, amor. Where our cottage stood.”

"Are you sure?" To be honest you feel a little turned around with how different everything looks, and you're not sure you could pinpoint the land you used to live on if your life depended on it.

“Yes.” He let’s go of your hand to stride forward. “The door was here.” He opens his arms wide to indicate the door. “This must- this is Tree I planted when I was here last.” He murmurs, looking up at the great, towering tree in wonder. It’s a true test of how much time has passed.

"You planted a tree the night we left?" He had never mentioned it, obviously, and you had spent so much time inside with Arwena as you packed up your necessities in the cottage that you wouldn't have ever seen him do it.

“No.” Pero turns back to you with a slightly guilty expression. “I came back on my way to the Stones.” He admits, reaching up and rubbing his neck as he examines the ground. “So if the tree is this large…it should be right around here.”

"What should be?" He is examining the ground carefully and you tilt your head at him in confusion. There is no anger or hurt feelings, just curiosity in your tone. "Amor, you never told me you came back to our home on your way north."

“I know.” Pero nods as he slips the bag he had brought off his back. “I did not know if we would return. Or if I could make it through the Stones.” He admits, kneeling down and unzipping the bag. He had requested these items from the hotel and to his surprise, they had provided them.

“What are you up to?” His mischievous streak has been fostered lately, mostly by Will and their friends, and just two days ago it had resulted in a beautiful wedding present of the necklace you’re currently wearing, but something tells you that this secret of his has nothing to do with jewelry.

“I did not wish to get your hopes up, amor.” He admits as he pulls a compact shovel and a pair of gloves from the bag. “But there is something I am hoping to find here.” The eagerness in his voice spells of it being a good discovery and he looks up at you and sends you a roguish wink.

“Can I help?” You’re immediately beside him with your knees in the dirt, assuming he has buried something when you see the shovel and gloves. “It doesn’t look like anybody owns this land, so hopefully no one will care if we dig.”

“I do not care if they care.” Pero huffs. “This land was ours and what is down here is ours.” He had buried it with the purpose of hopefully coming back to get it, in his time or in yours. With William’s help, there had been a lot of research that you were unaware of before the wedding. “If you wish to help, take the other gloves that I have in the bag.”

It takes time. Even with two of you, a thousand years of erosion and soil movement means that whatever is down here is not in the exact same place he left it - but in time it becomes clear that the roots of the tree he planted have protected his secret. One long, curled root has found its way around a small wooden chest which has been remarkably preserved. As if by magic, you think with a wry smile.

“She said it would work.” Pero huffs as he smirks, his shovel used as as axe to start chopping away at the root to pry the box from its resting place. “It is still here, amor.” He grunts, exhausted but exhilarated by the prospect.

“H—how?” You assume that ‘she’ is Arwena, but you’re too gobsmacked as he pulls the chest out of the ground to ask an intelligent question. “What did you bury?”

Pero brushes the carved lid off and carefully hands it to you. “Open it and see, amor.” He offers, wanting you to see what he had tried to do in order to plan for your future. “I had hoped it would be found by us, and now it has.”

It's remarkable, and the way the chest has survived the centuries almost unscathed. Whatever spell of protection he had placed on it, his magic was clearly much stronger then, than he had ever let on. The hinges creak when you pull at the rusted lock, but the butt of Pero's shovel soon sees it opened. Nestled in a clunky bed of fabric and leather is one of the few rare clear glass jars that you had had - the one that you had treasured for its clarity and stuffed full of beautiful dried rosebuds so you could still see the beautiful colors when it sat on the shelf. "Oooh..." You could cry just from the intimately familiar sight. "Amor, you..." You look up at him with your jaw fallen open. "You saved some of my things?"

“I did.” He nods and stares down at the box with the reminiscent fondness of someone opening a time capsule. “When I left Wena and Briac, I came back here. I needed to see it one last time and make sure that I left something of you- and myself behind if the Stones were going to reunite us.”

"Thank you." The kiss you give him is far more than well earned, but you don't let the moment run away with you just yet. There is a layer of fabric keeping the jar safe, but underneath is a large, thick, leather hide pouch that is unmistakably heavy when you pick it up. "Pero?" His name is a gasp from your lips as you untie the pouch to see a mass of coins gleaming and winking back at you from its depths. "H--how?"

"I earned coin as I made my way here." Pero murmurs. "Everything of value in the cottage was sold so I could bury this here." He wanted to bring it, but he also was not sure where he would end up or if he could go through. Burying it was safer in his mind. "I wanted to make sure you were taken care of in whatever time we ended up in."

“You promised your mamá you would provide for your soulmate…” It is not possible for you to be more in awe of him right now, and you wish you had some better way of expressing it than the shocked expression on your face. “Amor, do you have any idea what these are worth now?”

“William said that if we could find them, you would never have to work again if you did not wish to.” Pero hadn’t understood the amounts the other man had been talking but it was easily more than Pero had hoped to see in his lifetime.

“If we can find someone to buy these? Neither of us will ever have to work.” There are easily twenty gold coins, another dozen silver, and a large handful of copper pennies in the heavy bag, and you shake your head in disbelief. “We could travel all over the world if we wanted to. Never work again.”

“William already assured me he could find buyers if I found them.” Pero smirks at you, watching as you hold the coins as if they are precious. “If you want to quit your job and do something crazy with me.”

“Anything.” He knows you hate your office job, and that you would go or do anything with him that he wanted. Your hobbies are what bring you joy - your hobbies, your friends, and your incredible soulmate.

“I- William. He has found our little home in Valencia.” He explains. “There is- it is for sale.” He had to learn what that meant from Will. Apparently in this time, you had to buy the earth you worked. No rich lord owed all of it and allowed people to live on his lands.

“Oh my god.” Whatever you had expected him to say, that is not it at all. “Is it still a farm? Or is the house in some larger town now?” Moving to Spain is bigger than you had thought he would suggest, but it is not so crazy. And with the money these coins brought, you could hop on a plane and be across the pond to visit Beth and William any time you chose.

“It is still a farm.” Pero had been shocked when he had seen the old house was still standing in the pictures that Will had shown him. It was being used as a barn, but it was the same stones that Wena and Briac had sheltered their family inside. “You never got to see our home, amor.” Pero reaches for your hand. “Would you like to?”

"It will be a sort of adventure all its own, amor. Modern Spain will be very different from where you grew up and neither of us will know exactly what to expect." Still, the tears in your eyes are an obvious answer, especially when you lunge forward to throw your arms around him. "It will be a whole new life for us to start together. And...and I honestly can't wait."

“Or we could stay here.” Pero offers. “Rebuild our cottage.” Everything wouldn’t be exactly the same. He has learned to love indoor plumbing as much as you have. The extra-large tub in your hotel bathroom is a must wherever you live.

"I only care that I'm with you." You promise him, on the verge of having those tears that are building spill over onto your cheeks. "Here or Spain, whichever you dream of. We will sell these coins and build our life like we planned on a thousand years ago." Will you miss seeing Beth and Will every day? Of course. But in a world of video chatting and airplanes, you will have plenty of chances to spend time with your best friends.

“I only want that.” Pero murmurs, looking down at what would give him the fortune he had been chasing all those years ago. The fortune he had never found but had sent him straight into the arms of his soulmate. “All I wish is for the remaining years of my life to be spent with you, Sassenach.”

"How about this?" Hugging him tightly once more, you sit back on your ankles and wipe your eyes. "If your parents' farmhouse is still for sale once we have sold these coins and gotten the money that you saved, then that will be our sign to buy it. If not, we will find out who owns this land and rebuild our cottage beside your hazelnut tree."

“You have a good plan.” Pero holds you close and kisses your forehead. “It would be nice to live there like we planned so many years ago, or rebuilding the first home we had together. Perhaps one day we can do both.”

"I don't think we'll be lacking for funding," you laugh, looking down at the pouch of coins again in disbelief. "I have only one request, amor. If I could?"

“What is it?” You already know that anything you want he will do everything in his power to make sure it happens. “Anything.”

"Whenever we decide to go, can we make sure that there is room for Beth and Will to come visit us?" It almost feels silly asking, but happily starting your life over again with him does not mean that you have to leave everything behind this time. "A guest room in the house. That's all I ask. For our friends, or my family to come and see us."

“Done.” Pero nods immediately. “We will make sure we have room for any and all to come stay.” He doesn’t want to take you away from your family to never see them again. His parents always wanted a large family on the land they lived on and worked.

"I can't believe this." Truly, in your wildest dreams, you never could have thought that anything could have survived the centuries. Let alone a chest of coins, a precious memory of your past, or his family home. That you could possibly have all three is too much to even wrap your head around right now. "Your magic must have been much stronger than you led me to believe, for this to have remained safe all these years."

“As long as it brought me back to you, I did not care how strong it was.” Pero admits, shrugging casually. “But I could raise Cabello into the air.”

"I bet he hated that." You laugh, nearly doubled over at the thought of his enormous warhorse floating above the ground.

“He did.” Pero chuckles, knowing the horse had been well taken care of in his retirement from war. The farrier had been impressed with him and had a gentle touch.

"Let's bring this back to the hotel." The chest is precious and very heavy, but it will fit in his backpack to be stored in your hotel room while you explore the area and enjoy your honeymoon. "If your magic preserved those rosebuds well enough, they will be the first thing I plant in our new garden. Heirloom roses straight from the eleventh century."

“I am having a thought, Sassenach.” Pero hums as he slides the chest into the bag and starts to cover the hole back up. It would do no good to have anyone discover that something had been dug up. “The original house. I would like to restore it as it had been in my time. As a means of showing what it was truly like.” There had been some little tour of what a house would have looked like two hundred years ago, something you had shown him. It had sparked the interest again, reminding him of the conversation you had in his time before plans had changed.

"You miss Valencia, don't you?" It's easy to see, especially in his enthusiasm, and you reach to rub your thumb over the peak of his shoulder. "We should reach out to the people who are selling your family farm. Speak to them about our interest and that your ancestors were the ones who built it. See if they will be willing to wait for us to bring the money together. Then we can restore anything you like." But you shoot him a knowing grin. "Restored, but with indoor plumbing."

“The house we live in should be modeled after it. But larger. All your modern stuffs in it.” He is happy you are so accepting of his idea. It might help him feel more settled here.

"A modern kitchen for me to cook in and a large bathtub for you to relax in." Standing again, you both dust off your knees and take hands again. "It will be the home we intended, when we spoke to Wena and Briac about wanting to stay."

“I only relax in a bath when you join me.” Pero grumbles at you, having complained that the bathtub in the apartment it too small to fit you comfortably. There had been a lot of shower sex though, he did like that.

"You will need a hobby for you, amor. Rich men have hobbies because they don't have to work." Both of you know very well that whatever bathtub you install in your new home will have to be big enough for two, but you do still like teasing him. "Sex with your wife does not count as a hobby."

“It should.” He huffs as he pats the earth down and stands up to lift the heavy bag onto his back. “I will show other rich men how to live simply. It will be popular among the lords of this time.”

"A garden, some travel, and our cat." You chuckle, thinking how much Bowie will enjoy being a mouser on a small farm. Even just in a house with a garden. "We would have space enough for two cats if we wanted to give Bowie a friend. Or even for you to have a horse again, if you wanted."

He had not thought about that and he immediately perks up at the idea. This is the longest he had ever been without a horse since he had become a mercenary. “Would you want another horse? Go for rides again?”

"I think it could be fun." Backtracking the way you had walked a few hours ago, you and Pero start up the hill to return to the old village center hand in hand. "I think you would ride your horse everywhere and entirely avoid cars if you could."

“It would be better.” He immediately agrees, even though he’s learning to drive, he does not enjoy it. “It’s exercise. That metal monstrosity does nothing but shorten my life.”

"I'll do the driving and you'll do the riding, then." Returning to driving is actually something you've enjoyed, but you know he hates it. It has, however, made you a much more cautious driver to have him in the car with you.

“I don’t know if that makes it better, bruja.” He snorts, smirking over at you when you huff, all offended at his words.

"I'll send you back to Scotland to drive around with Sarah and then you'll be glad to be riding with me again." As much as you adore her, Sarah MacLeod is not the best driver in the world, and you know that being in her car as his first automobile experience probably colored Pero's opinion of driving forever.

His face drops instantly and he looks like he’s going to get sick. “Never again, Sassenach.” He groans. “Not while my feet still work.”

That sends you into a fit of giggles, and you grip his hand as you walk up the hill together. "Alright, maybe I won't make you ride with Sarah again. But at least I'm not the worst driver you know."

The huff that comes out of Pero is very reminiscent of when Cabello would snort and blow before stamping his foot impatiently. “You are meaner in this time, Sassenach.” He grumbles even as his grip on your hand tightens.

"You like to be teased." He always has, that was apparent to you from the beginning. "And you know that I would never do anything to make you unhappy, cariño. It's all in good fun."

He rolls his eyes at you and let’s go of your hand to swat at your ass playfully. “You are a pain in my ass, so I will pain yours.” He jokes.

"Te amo mucho, mi amor." You grin, practically sticking your tongue out at him as you walk together. Everything feels as light as air today, and seemingly nothing could cut through the good mood that has settled between you.

“I will pull you over my knee when we get back to our room.” He huffs, knowing you will enjoy it if he does. “But I won’t let you cum.”

"Now who's mean?" You pout at him dramatically, knowing that he would give in and let you have your pleasure eventually no matter what he says, but enjoying the game.

“Born mean, mi amor.” He flashes you a wicked grin and winks at you when it just makes you pout even harder.

"You say so, but I have seen you misty-eyed at not just one but two of our weddings, and caught you having entire conversations with Binx and Bowie and Caballo." This man's many different faces have always fascinated you, but perhaps that is part of being soulmates. The great privilege of having someone close to you that will never tire or bore you. Someone who will challenge, love, encourage, and support you through the best and the worst of life. Someone to complete you - no matter where or when you are.

Pero grumbles under his breath, flushing slightly at your call out of his supposed tender behavior. It flies in the face of the hard facade he had shown the world for nearly his entire life. “Mean.” He huffs, as if he’s trying to convince you.

“Maybe I am.” You shrug, hand still in his. “Maybe you are. But I think we’re the best version of ourselves now that we’re together.”

"I can agree to that." Pero knows that he doesn't want to be without you again, it was too painful for that year once he had entwined his soul with yours. "Now we don't need to be apart." He chuckles quietly. "We will have our modern house and live everyday like we did in the cottage."

“Te amo, mi corazón.” Lifting His hand to your lips, you leave a kiss in his skin and smile. Te amo mucho.”

"Mi vida es tuya." My life is yours. Pero reminds you simply, knowing you feel the same.

“What else would you like to do today, amor?” There had been more to find at the site of your old cottage than you could possibly have anticipated, but you still have an entire evening ahead of you.

"That is up to you." Pero murmurs softly. "We can explore the village or we can see about getting a meal and going back to the cottage to eat there. Under that tree?"

“We could do both?” With both of you softened a little, you lean your head on his shoulder for a moment at the corner of a street waiting for a group of cars to pass so you can keep walking. “We could walk around until we find something good to eat and then walk back down to the cottage to have our meal.”

Pero hums his agreement, finding it to be a good idea. He also has another plan for tonight back at the site of the cottage you and he had shared so many years ago. Biting his lip, he nods. "Perfecto."

******

Once your things are settled back at the inn, the two of you wander town some more. Modern shops mix with historical sites in this place that is so obviously fond of its heritage, and you share a few good laughs about how you would be the town’s most treasured visitors if they only knew about your past. Eventually you wander into the bakery that stands on the same site as the old baker’s shop, and though they aren’t using his same stone oven, they are baking with the same ancient principles in mind. Tartines, a small loaf of seeded bread, and a few pastries are added to your accumulated picnic of wine and cheese, and you’re ready to head back down to the tree Pero planted by your old cottage.

When the chest had been pulled out of the bag, it had been replaced with the throw blanket the hotel had set out on the couch in the small sitting area. Wanting to use it to put down on the ground when you eat. You had told him that in this time picnics were romantic things, rather than just eating during a rest for the horses. Spreading it under the tree, the blanket sits where your bed would have been in cottage and Pero smirks, sitting down and patting the space beside him. "Sit, amor."

You’re careful with the food, seeing everything down gently, and setting down your own bag in the corner of the blanket to sit down beside him. It’s a beautiful, sunny day and warm, so a picnic is just the thing for your dinner.

“This was your safe fortress for a long time.” Pero murmurs, unable to see any of the Stones that had made up the walls of the cottage. Most likely it had been torn down to use for other things. “It was a nice cottage, better with a roof on it.” He teases.

“It’s useless for me to argue that I would have thatched it myself eventually, isn’t it?” You roll your eyes at him to make him laugh and reach for the wine bottle and corkscrew that you bought while you were out. “You kept me warm and safe that winter, amor. And I will always be grateful.”

"It was the most comfortable I had ever been." Pero admits, having taken pride in making sure there was a warm fire in the hearth and meat in your pot. It had felt like the first home he had since leaving his father's.

“And now that honor will go to our farmhouse after it’s built.” There is no need for glasses, the two of you can easily share a bottle of wine without having to be dainty. The box containing your tartines sits open beside the pastry box containing madeleines and macarons, with the baguette and cheese waiting to be devoured just beyond that. A veritable feast.

“The cheese maker’s shop being a what did you call it? A delicatessen? That was ironic.” Pero had groaned happily at the variety of cheeses available now and there are a lot of them in your picnic.

“It was exciting,” you contend, knowing that the cured meats in the cases and windows along with the dozens of varieties of cheese will be calling you back before the week is up. You’ll end up shipping a crate of things home, you can feel it in your bones. “Dig in, love. No reason to wait when it’s just the two of us out here.” A few passersby have been out, some of them with dogs, but no one has bothered you. They apparently know tourists when they see them.

“Remember that first day Briac brought all the supplies to your door? I thought your eyes were going to pop out of your head. They were so wide.” Pero chuckles as he pulls out the pocketknife you gave him to start slicing the cheeses.

“I had no idea you would spend so much on supplies!” Laughing with him, you reach for a piece of tartine and hum at the spicy scent of the mustard holding all the toppings on the fresh, crusty bread. “I was used to saving every single coin I could and trading as much as possible. It was like Christmas come early to me.”

“I was not going all winter without cheese and ale.” Pero hands you a slice of cabrales and takes another for himself. “I love cheese.”

“Almost as much as you love me.” You can’t resist teasing him, batting your eyelashes dramatically so he doesn’t pout about having to choose.

“Almost.” He huffs, popping the cheese into his mouth with a grin and then letting out a filthy moan. It’s creamy and slightly funky and he’s already cutting another piece off of the large wedge.

“That good?” As soon as you ask the question you pop the piece he handed into your own mouth and have a nearly identical reaction that sends you both into a fit of laughter. “Holy shit that’s good.”

“It’s that good.” There’s is a leer in his grin as he leans closer, waggling his brows slightly.

“Are you implying that this cheese is as good as fucking me?” You raise your eyebrows at him imperiously, trying not to snort or giggle at the little game. It is very good cheese, after all.

“This cheese is almost as good as fucking you.” Pero shuffles closer, smirking as he breaks off another bite of the cheese and pops it into his mouth. “But I must compare quickly.”

“Amor…” That combination of predatory gaze and a knowing smirk usually only means one thing, and if you weren’t literally out in the open you would be all for it. “We would be seen.”

Pero scoffs, not caring if he were seen making love to his soulmate - his wife. “We are behind the tree.” He argues, cutting his eyes over. “We will not be seen if you just lay against the trunk.”

“If we’re seen we could be arrested.” The argument isn’t exactly stalwart, not when you’re leaning into him and a mere fraction of an inch away from kissing him.

“Who cares?” Pero has been in a stockade more times than he can count, was chained to a wall in China. A modern slap on the wrist means nothing to him. “You do not want me inside you where we use to fuck so many years ago?” He asks, lifting a brow. “You could ride my cock, your dress would cover us from being seen.”

It’s strangely sentimental at the same time that it is breathtakingly arousing, and you bite your lip hard while considering the pros and cons. When the pros - i.e. sex with Pero - inevitably win out, you nod slightly and push in to capture his lips in a kiss. This might actually outdo the time you wrapped your legs around his waist and let the ocean waves help you ride him one night when the beach was empty.

The growl Pero lets out is feral. Twisting his body and dragging you into his lap so that you are blocked by the tree and his back so that none will see you. He doesn’t mind public sex, his cock is hard and he has every intention of sinking into you, but he is protective of you being on display to others.

“Shhhh.” It’s barely a chastisement as you squirm in his lap and bite back a needy gasp. “We have to be quiet, amor.”

“They will think it an animal and stay away.” Pero huffs, pushing his hands up under your skirt to fumble with his jeans. In this instance, he wishes he were wearing his easier to access breeches, although he’s grateful you are wearing a skirt.

It really is a useless endeavor to wear underwear around Pero, but when his fingers slip inside the slick fabric and tug your panties to the side, you tell yourself it’s your honeymoon and you’re not only allowed to be horny – it’s expected. Raising yourself up just a little is all you need for Pero to shift beneath you, and you bite down on your lip hard to keep from moaning as you sink down on his length.

There is magic in the way your body takes him that is it’s own web of power. Sucking the breath from his lungs and clouding his mind with you, pushing everything else aside. He pulses and twitches in the snug warmth of your walls, hands gripping your hips harshly. “Fuck.” He hisses quietly, already breathing heavily.

“Goddamn.” You hiss in agreement, starting out with just making small circles in his lap. There is barely any rise and fall to your hips yet, but partly because of Pero’s iron grip on that part of your body while he twitches eagerly inside you.

“You- mierda, you feel like heaven.” Pero praises, ducking his head and starting to kiss along your neck and across your collarbone. Ever since he thought of returning here he imagined you like this again, right here. The cottage fully reconstructed in his mind as you grind down on him.

“S-such a bad — fuck — fucking influence.” Careful to keep your lips tight by his ear, just only need to whisper the words for him to hear them. Your hips swivel and rock, taking him as deep as you can and giving you a surge of pleasure every time your walls pulse around him.

He knows his fingers dig into your skin through the fabric, you will have tender spots on your skin that will be loving reminders. The first time he had done that, he had been upset to hurt you, but you like it and Pero groans in agreement. “You and your -your cunt are all that matter right- right now.” He chokes out, trying to roll his hips up.

Kissing him is going to be the only way to keep yourself quiet, and you cling to him in the shadow of the enormous hazelnut tree. The whole rest of the world has dissolved from your mind and it’s only you and Pero - just two soulmates moving together in secluded pleasure. Nothing else exists.

Pero grunts into your mouth, absorbing your whines with pleasure. His hips push up and he tenses when you tighten around him. Loving how uninhibited you are right now, even though the two of you are completely covered.

It’s all about small, subtle movements right now. There is nothing in the world that could stop you at this point, as you rock closer and closer to the point of no return. Your legs tense on either side of him, gripping his thighs with your knees and holding on as tight as you possibly can even as your fingers dig into his shoulders while you try desperately not to cry out.

“Good girl.” He growls into your ear, hand splayed wide across your back and holding you close. “Mi esposa es tan buena para mí.” My wife is so good to me.

“Mi esposo es increible.” My husband is incredible. The shuddering tension in the depth of your belly is as familiar as breathing with Pero is your life, and you chase it with your cunt bearing down in his cock as tightly as a glove.

He can feel that you are close, starting to quicken his pace under you. “Cum for me.” Growling quietly, he presses his lips to yours to muffle the cry he knows is coming.

You hardly need the extra encouragement, but you whimper in agreement and nods eagerly as you pick up the pace just that much more. Discreet as you’re trying to be, you’re certain that anyone who saw you would recognize your movements - but frankly you’re so close to your peak that you don’t even care. Tighter and tighter, the coil in your belly snaps with one particularly well-placed thrust from Pero, sending you over the edge as your forehead drops to his shoulder so you can bite your lip and grip his shoulders as solidly as you need to keep quiet while you come apart on top of him.

His pleasure rumbles through him, like an avalanche as it sweeps over his body. Only allowing him to give into the need once your body bows and arches in pleasure. Curling around his spine and making him shudder, Pero pumps himself deep with a low groan of your name.

Gasping for breath includes a giggle, and you raise your head to press a kiss to Pero’s lips as your body against his. “Te amo, mi corazón. Eres el sol in mi cielo.” I love you, my heart. You are the sun in my sky.

He smirks, reaching up and cupping your cheeks. “Eres la bruja que me ha robado el corazón.” You are the witch who has stolen my heart. Pero teases and kisses the tip of your nose. “And I do not wish to have it back.”

______

Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44 @katheriner1999 @littlemousedroid @harriedandharassed @churchill356 @ajathegreats-blog @hardc0rehaylz @beardsanddetectives @kirsteng42 @ladykatakuri @adancedivasmom @madiebear @tanzthompson @emilianamason @bigsdinger

SatS: @canadianmaebe @badassbaker @od-ends @amneris21 @padbrookcottage @chaoticfestninja @xdaddysprincessxx @mostclevermiss @im-sylien @wherethewildfanlives @ficsbynight @djarinsimp @ellenmunn @jediknight122 @under-the-seas @wellaintthatsumthin @sarahbellesaurus @roxypeanut @prostitute-robot-from-the-future @bruxasolta @kaylay2187 @freshlemontea @humanransome-note @virtualanchortimetravel @leoisme @do-not-go-gently-42 @catsandgeekyandnerd @happypalaceroadpie @ghoulpatroul @lizzystorm48 @imoutoid @rainbeaubrightchild @ahopelessromanticwritersworld @dudelorian @thirddeadlysin @piratesangel @jazzieomega @iceclaw101 @strangegirl32 @lights-on-the-ridge @godofbadass8909 @pann-malii @littleone65 @notyouraveragemochii @shawdowolf993 @rebel-fanfare @rav3n-pascal22 @love93sstuff @choppedmugjudgeplaid @aurelac-heart @we-could-have-been @bilibiche @prettydull180 @dinoflower @my-life-as-a-bird @tuquoquebrute @damnitjaskier @fishingforpike @sherlock221b114679797 @sainteredhood @nekodemon73 @missredherring @middlemichi @moonflower91 @rachelle-on-the-run @miscellaneousfangirling @danamercury @hyacinthsatdawn @i-am-amora-the-enchantress @milkandoil @generalplaidhorseherring @raptorclaw24 @mrsparknuts

My Masterlist!

[keeshya6]

Last Chance

Chapter 1 - The Last Thing You Expected

Joel Miller x f!Reader

Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5

Rating: M (Eventually will be E. 18+ only, minors dni!)

Word Count: 1.6k

Summary: You had been happy once. That was a long time ago. Then life had just gotten in the way.

And after that? The world ended.

Since then, you've just been trying to survive. You definitely didn't think you'd ever run into your past, much less have a chance to try again.

Content Warnings and general info: This will be both post- and pre- outbreak. There WILL be spoilers from the show. Slow burn, kinda. You'll see what I mean.

I do avoid most specific descriptors for Reader characters, but she does have long-ish hair, though texture and color are not specified. She also blushes, though I don't specify just how noticeable it is. Character will have a background/history. I tend to treat a Reader character like a role that people can step into, rather than her literally being the person reading it. The Reader character also has a nickname.

First chapter doesn't really have much to warn about other than minor flirtation. That's about it. I will include more warnings in future chapters.

Lastly, this is a pretty short chapter, just to get us started. Future chapters will be longer, I'm sure. Possibly, significantly longer.

Also available on Ao3

I hope you enjoy!

----------

Chapter 1 - The Last Thing You Expected

----------

This can't be real. 

There's no way that's him. No way. 

You haven't seen him in two decades. Since the day you broke your own heart and boarded a plane out of Texas. That was over a thousand miles away.

And about four months before the world ended.

You swallow thickly, your brows pinching together into a scowl as you look at his back for another moment, trying to quiet the rapid beating of your heart.

"Tommy?" His name comes out of you with a bit of a squeak and you have to clear your throat. 

He stops, mid-sentence in ordering a drink at the bar of The Tipsy Bison, and turns to look at you. 

You hadn't meant to be rude and interrupt. You're just so surprised.

You're not the only one. 

Tommy's eyes narrow a bit as he looks at you, faint recognition showing in his expression, like he's trying to place your face. 

He hasn't changed. The same dark hair, worn long. Same small mustache. Same dark eyes. Handsome features worn a little bit with age, but not much. He still looks just like you remember Tommy Miller looking. 

Those dark eyes finally light up with realization and his brows shoot up towards his hairline. He gasps out your name before giving a laugh of disbelief and coming off of his barstool in a rush to scoop you up in a hug.

You squeak again in surprise and then you're laughing, too. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you return the hug as he lifts you off the floor for a moment. 

When he sets you back down on your own feet, he's beaming at you. "What are you doing here, Eeps?"

You give an exaggerated sigh and roll your eyes. "Oh God, I forgot about that nickname."

Tommy grins down at you. "I did, too, until you made that noise."

You scrunch up your nose at him before you're both laughing again.

Giving a firm squeeze to your shoulders, he guides you over to the bar. "When did you get into Jackson?"

It takes you a moment to maneuver yourself onto one of the tall barstools and then he sits on the one next to you. "About a week ago. Just…been getting settled," you answer with a shrug. "How about you?"

"Almost two years ago now," he says with a slight shrug. 

You give a little nod in acknowledgement, and then a quiet moment passes before you smile at him again. "You look good, Tommy."

He smirks, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck. There might even be a bit of a red tinge in his cheeks at the compliment. "Thanks, Eeps. Things have been…pretty good lately." His smirk becomes a grin and he seems to get lost in thought for a moment. "Yeah…Jackson's been good to me," he says with a firm nod, focusing on you again. He reaches over, lightly bumping your knee with a fist. "You're looking good too!"

You snort softly and laugh. "Should've seen me a week ago. You wouldn't have recognized me at all. Amazing what a week's worth of decent sleep and some good food will do."

His face splits into another brief grin. "Yeah, it is." Then, Tommy hesitates for a moment, growing serious before asking, "Where were you before?"

You fidget with the bottom hem of your shirt, absentmindedly, giving a small shrug as your expression turns sad. A little haunted. "The Portland QZ. It… it got overrun a few months ago."

A noticeable cringe crosses his features. "Damn. Sorry."

Another shrug lifts up your shoulders. "Fact of life now," you murmur.  Then you give him another strained smile. "But thanks." You pause for a moment, before your curiosity starts to poke at you. "What about you…before here?" 

Tommy turns on his stool to face the bar, waving to catch the bartender's attention before looking over at you again. "Umm… a few different places. Boston, for a while. Then, worked my way across the country."

"Oh, wow," you gasp out, your eyebrows arching sharply. And you thought it would have been a long trip from Austin. "Um… were you-"

You cut your question short when the bartender steps over. Tommy requests a whiskey for himself and gives you a questioning look. 

"Oh… just a beer, please?"

The bartender nods and turns to grab your drinks as Tommy focuses back on you. 

You're fidgeting again, this time tapping your fingertips one at a time against the pad of your thumb. It's an old, nervous habit.

"All the way across the country, huh?" you ask, trying to sound nonchalant and failing miserably. "On-on your own?"

A soft, knowing smile crosses Tommy's lips. "No. Most of the time I was with friends."

Friends. 

Not family. 

You nod, grateful for the beer that's placed in front of you. Grabbing it up, you take a long swig of it as he takes a swallow of his whiskey.

When you look back at Tommy again, you sigh shakily. That knowing look hasn't left his face. You both know the questions you are avoiding asking.

You're scared that you already know the answers. 

You thought you had moved on a long time ago, never having expected to see anyone from your past again. 

Just seeing Tommy alive, so far from the life you knew him in before, is a miracle. This world has so few of those to offer anymore.

It's too much to ask for another. 

Tommy is the one to break the growing silence between you though, taking pity on you so you don't have to voice your question. 

His words steal the air from your lungs. 

"Joel's alive, Eeps."

—

"Um, hey there…"

You had nearly choked on a gulp of red wine, surprised by that voice. Thankfully, it had come from behind you, and you were able to cover up your mishap by gently clearing your throat before turning. 

Swallowing hard, you had turned on your toes to find the source of the voice as it spoke again.

"I don't think we've been properly introduced yet, Miss."

Oh, Good Lord. If that luscious baritone -with just a hint of a fry to it- wasn't as sweet as a good, Georgia-peach iced tea, then you didn't know what was. 

And the face that came with it?

Well, if they made men like this in Texas, then you thought you just might be able to learn to like it here after all. 

His words had finally clicked in your mind and you gave a little smile, shaking your head. "No. I don't think so."

Eyes of the warmest and richest russet brown you'd ever seen watched you closely, seeming to study the details of your own eyes as you took in the details of his. Tiny lines at their corners deepened as he gave you an almost bashful smile.

"Hope you don't mind, but I wanted to fix that," he said, a bit of a drawl coming through.  His broad shoulders moved in a shrug before he offered a hand. "M' name's Joel Miller."

Your tongue darted across your lips as unexpected nervousness pricked at your mind, your stomach a bit of a flutter.  Reaching out, you couldn't help noticing how his hand dwarfed your own, yet his grip was gentle as he shook it. 

"It's nice to meet you, Mr. Miller," you said, after giving him your name and a soft smile.

His rumbling chuckle made a warmth dance across your skin, and you prayed to whoever might listen that you weren't actually blushing like a silly school girl. 

"Please, just Joel is fine. If my brother heard me called 'Mr. Miller'... well, I'd never hear the end of it."

You laughed a little at that and nodded, nervously tucking a rebellious lock of hair behind your ear. Lifting your glass of wine, you took a sip of it to give yourself a moment, to gather up your nerves and tuck them back away where they belonged. 

After that sip, and a clarifying deep breath, you felt a little more composed and gave him a warm smile. 

"Okay, Joel it is." 

Oh well, jeez, why did he have to smile like that? You had just gotten that threat of a blush under control!

Then you blinked in realization. 

"Oh! 'Miller'. You're with the new contracting company that saved our bacon on the top floors," you said. 

Now he almost seemed to blush with a single-shouldered shrug. "I don't know about 'saved your bacon', but yeah. That's my company."

You definitely knew that Miller Construction had saved your bosses some hassle. You were part of the architectural design team for a new high-rise hotel in Austin. The build was nearly done except for the top two floors, which included what would be the highest costing suites, when the previous contractors had started pulling some tricks in an attempt to renegotiate their contract. The firm you worked for had nearly been forced to agree to the new terms just to meet the deadline,  when Miller Construction came around with a bid that saved them time and money. 

In fact, it was such a good deal that you had wondered how the new contractor could possibly be making any money off of it. It turned out that it was a fairly new company. The owners, a pair of brothers that your boss knew from when they worked for a different company, were just getting started on their own and trying to build up their customer base. 

Your smile had brightened a bit. "Oh, I know you saved us a bunch of hassle," you said. "And we appreciate it."

His smile widened, enough for a single dimple to cease one cheek. "Well… I won't argue it. I'll happily accept your appreciation," he had drawled. 

Oh boy. You were in trouble.

And this time you knew you were blushing.

[cannednoodle]

I’ve been wondering about how many drawings I did of my DevineInventionshipping, the main ship i post here, and I’ve come to the realization how I unconsciously been presenting their relationship, although there is still a bit of art of them i haven’t posted here that just screamed how this relationship is viewed by me

To sum it up, there is a lot of drawings/doodles of them just holding one another, and with me having them for almost 2 and a half years, you would think i would at the very least draw them kissing a bunch, but i didn’t. I drew them kissing like 5 times, and I’m excluding all the ‘implied’ kisses doodles!

So i think it just shows how I had been just seeing their growing relationship for those 2 years lmao, don’t get me wrong they are both very independent, as you would expect from the adults (as they are both 18 at this point in the story) that they have respectfully become at the young age, both of them are still very much clingy when together and alone, which they try to suppress when other people are around, though it’s not always working! Not when your very cool and attractive significant other that just so happens to come back home, taking a break from their trip to whatever region they were at, to be in the same room as you, or to see your other half after just calls and texts after the whole month of being apart, sometimes even more, wouldn’t you too want to just tackle them to the floor and pepper their entire face with feather like kisses?

I don’t know, portraying their relationship through drawings and/or some small written text won’t get my point across sometimes about how special those two are to me and how their relationship grew into what it is now, but that’s just me rambling lmao love those two to bits

[I included a small wip of them I’m working on right now underneath if anyone is interested]

[gumikpxp]

Clover

werewolf! Au

3. Origin

pairing: Werewolf!Shua x Bunnyhybrid!Reader (f)

warnings: Fluff, slight angst mentions of heats and trafficking

synopsis: A werewolf and a bunny seem like a terrible match and would have no chance of working. however you can't argue with fate and if joshua gets a cute cottontail mate he doesn't seem to mind. At least that what his brothers believe when they watch joshua stare at his bunny mate with the most adoring look in his eyes as she showed him the four leaf clover she found in the garden. Who were they to question the moon goddess anyways.

"Where am I from?" She asked with a head tilt and Joshua nodded taking the seat next to her. She hummed turning her body slightly towards him.

"China. Originally at least! That's where my Mom and dad is too! but i haven't seen them since i was maybe 5 years old?" She explained to him moving her hands around as she explained.

"not that i'm complaining but if your parents are in china how'd you get here?" Joshua asked and she pouted slightly shaking her head.

"i don't want you to get sad." she mumbled looking down at her hands that were now sat in her lap and picked at the skin on her fingers. Joshua noticing this frowned and grabbed her hands holding them in his.

"i think i'll be okay, i'd really like to know more about you.. if that's okay with you.." he told her and she looked up at him and nodded slightly with a sigh.

"My mom and dad were adopted at a hybrid shelter in china by some very wealthy people for their daughter. Well they ended up having me over time along with a few brothers and sisters." Y/n started looking bad at their hands now intertwined tracing his knuckles with her fingers.

"Well it turns out their family wasn't wealthy for no reason. They only wanted to keep my mom and dad and then one of my sisters for later breeding. When she was old enough. And once we were old enough to be taken from our mothers they sold the rest of us to a hybrid trafficking ring...." Joshua tensed at her words suddenly wanting to squeeze her impossibly tight to himself as if to protect her from the painful memories she was reliving.

"Bunnies tend to go very fast, especially female bunnies because of our reputation with heats. So i was bought pretty quickly from and international deal here in korea.. but because I wasn't old enough for my heat and still had years of waiting I didn't get my heats. That made my old master really angry." The girls ears dropped almost to hide herself and it only filled joshua with rage and sadness he was almost sure she would be able to sense it through the mating bond.

Needing to be impossibly closer to his mate joshua pulled her chair nearer to him and wrapped his arms around her smaller figure. She gave him a soft smile linking her hands with his again when she had the chance.

"Because of this he made me his personal servant, i wasn't the only one tho there was another hybrid, an older girl she was a cat, because i was so young at the time she acted as an older sister to me.. almost a mother? She felt sorry for me a lot and hated the abuse he would put me through and after a couple of years she got sick of it. She made a plan to get me out of there." Y/n explained to joshua finally looking at him again.

"Because i was the runt of my siblings when i turn i'm very small. she took advantage of that joshua the next time she was to pack a car of one of his guest she was going to smuggle me out. it worked i was able to get out but i was trapped in the trunk for a while longer than expected, so when the trunk finally opened and i had the chance i escaped and ran into the forest and i've been here for years." She finished explaining to him and he furrowed his eyebrows.

"Wait... years?" he asked and she nodded. "how come i've only been able to sense you now.." he asked her and she shrugged.

"Well, i'm finally of age for my heats... i turned 18 three days ago, maybe it's the same for mates? is that what you called it. Maybe we can't sense each other until a certain point of maturity.." She explained to him and his eyes widened slightly. She's still so young.

"I missed your birthday?" he asked and she shrugged

"i mean it's not like you knew.." she mumbled and he's hooked his head still somehow disappointed in himself.

"how did you celebrate?" he asked and she furrowed her eyebrows again.

"what do you mean celebrate?"

"like.. a birthday party?" he asked her and she taped slightly.

"what's that?!"

"Wow. She's a clueless little thing isn't she."

Joshua grumbled rolling his eyes.

"Jeonghan.. seriously?" The younger mumbled and jeonghan chuckled slightly.

"don't worry it's adorable, heartbreaking yet adorable. You're gonna be a handful." Jeonghan told the girl.

"I hope when you get mated it's someone who despises you." Josh mumbled to his brother and he only laughed in response.

"Oh please i'm sure my mate will me a saint!"

"Oh! you said you were from china right?" Josh asked and she nodded quickly.

"I think a couple of my brothers would love to meet you!" Josh smiled at her and her cheeks seemed to redden a bit at it. her ears quickly dripping in front of her face.

[chaoxfix]

none of you will ever understand the parasocial attachment i have to kon-el superboy experiment 13 conner drake-wayne luthor kent supernova man of tomorrow

arrogant teen celebrity superhero whos got much more depth than you expect and is in way over his head. died. got better. has been written out of existence at least twice. has ISSUES issues. did the whole 'depressive spiral' arc before it was cool. cringefail loser when its least convenient. so desperately aggressively performatively straight that he circles back around to being a bi-kon or possibly the deepest closeted gay man in existence. cloned from the DNA of the most evil billionaire on the planet and superman himself. just wants the ability to live as himself. has actual style but keeps giving it up to fit into a mold. has never, not once, had a healthy successful relationship but we keep rooting for him anyway (dated 2 adult predators as a young teen and at least one lesbian (jury's still out on cassie sandsmark). at this point he's clearly given up on love, his last relationship was a literal fake dating scenario and he still didnt catch feelings while helping her RAISE HER CHILD. even in AUs he keeps getting paired with people who clearly do not have his best interests at heart. conner babycakes. who keeps deciding this and where can i find them). has issues about being a clone. has issues about having a chip implanted in his head that made him almost kill all of his friends. has issues about wanting to be normal. has issues about not really wanting to be normal. didnt receive a name until he was a year old. :( was stuck at 16 for like an extra 6 months before aging normally but for some reason every AU seems to think he was permanently stuck at 16. his age math is the worst because he was created at 15 got stuck at 16 for a year and 6 months. died for like a year. came back. got erased from existence when the universe was reset. came back... somehow. all of this is in the span of like 5 years. is he 5. is he 3. is he 15. is he 16. is he 18. we dont know. has issues about being clark's not-son-not-brother-not-nephew-not-cousin. loves ma kent with all his heart. loves his friends with all his heart. his friends all forgot about him for a really long time due to the universe reset. in an au he once died for all his friends again. in the main universe, the reason the timeline broke is because a mirror universe variation of clark kent but who calls himself superboy decided to destroy the entire universe. conner died fighting him. less than 3 months prior conner went into a depressive spiral because the whole 'i almost killed all my friends' thing happened due to a chip in his brain. he woke up revived in the far future. nothing was ever the same after he died.

i love him and his stupid leather jacket.

[imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl]

The One I've Been Waiting For {Part 09 of 13}

Word count: 2.3 K

Summary: Billy Hargrove is just one of the many students you're supposed to help. The last thing you expect from your interaction is that he'll start flirtt with you... Much less that Billy would stir up feelings you'd rather keep hidden. Despite the mutual sentiments that soon enough start to grow, there are a lot of reasons for whatever it is to be left alone, and one of them is your age...

{Stranger Things Masterlist}

A/N: In this story, reader is 5 years older than Billy, who's 18.

•••

A Vision from Hell

 You couldn't drive for a while. When you got behind the wheel the next day, you couldn't do it. So, Billy, Tanya, and Liam took turns driving you through town until you got better. It took a few days, but they were patient with you.

 But the days passed by and you got yourself back together. But today, since you slept at Tanya's, she dropped you at the Hawkins Elementary School, where you tutored a kid. But now, after a small, routine meeting with the principal and some teachers, it's time to go. You're crossing the small parking lot when you see Max chatting with her friends.

 “I gotta go, I'm late.” She tells them, putting her skateboard on the ground and stepping on it. “Billy will be mad.”

 “No, he won't.” You speak up when you're close enough, making the whole party look at you. “I'm going there anyway. Wouldn't mind the company.”

 “Sure.” She shrugs, picking up the skate. “Guys, this is (Y/N). She's... Something of Billy's. Not quite sure yet.”

 “Hi, I'm Dustin.” One of them says, the one with curly hair, shaking your hand. “These other jerks are Lucas, Will. Mike and Eleven.”

 “Eleven? Like the number?”

 “El for short.” The girl nods with a small smile.

 “Alright, let's go.” Max tilts her head and after waving at the kids, you start following her.

 The day is warm, a little hot even, and you take off the light sweater you were wearing, tying it around your waist. You enjoy walking. Well, you enjoy walking here. The small town's slow pace is getting to you, and you like the simple streets and the many trees. Hawkins is a beautiful place, even though sometimes you feel like there isn't much to do.

 “So. You and Billy, huh?” Max asks after a while. “You two are together or what?”

 Blushing, you wonder if she knows Billy has been spending the nights with you. Almost every night, the only exception being when Neil is especially mad because you don't want him to explode at Billy. “We're... Seeing how things play out. Getting to know each other. Hanging out. Stuff like that.”

 “Stuff like that. AKA dating.” She teases, looking at you with a smile. “Whatever it is, it's good for him. He's less of an asshole ever since you came into the picture.”

 That's good to know. “Can I ask you something?” You continue when she nods. “You know I'm a little older than him, right?” Coming back to the same thought is tiring, you know it. But it's still something that hovers above your head. Not as much as before, but it's still there.

 “You're what? Nineteen?”

 “Twenty-three.”

 “You come out as being around his age. And even if you didn't I don't think that's a big deal.”

 “I just don't want it to be weird.” Max is part of Billy's life, and you want to be accepted by her. If she's ok with it, part of you feels relieved.

 “Look, stupid people will find it weird. Stupid people like Neil. But they don't get a say in it.” You reach the High School parking lot, walking around the few people still going home. “Those who really matter, friends and family, those are the ones who will support you, as long as you're happy.”

 “You're very mature for your age.” You tell her with a smile. “Thanks, Maxine.”

 “Call me Max.” She lightly elbows you, throwing the board on the ground and skating the short distance to Billy's Camaro. “Hey, shitface.”

 “You're late. Again.” You hear him saying as you walk around the hood, still out of his sight.

 “I had to walk instead of skating.”

 “Why? This thing is brand new, it can't be broken.”

 “I made her walk.” You say, smiling when Billy turns around to look at you.

 “Then it's you I should be mad at.”

 “I'm not scared of you.” You whisper, heat spreading through your cheeks.

 “Would the two lovebirds give it a break and drive me home before doing whatever you're doing?” Max complains as she gets inside the car.

 Billy's eye roll makes you giggle as you make your way to the passenger seat.

 Keeping the windows open, you feel the wind messing with your hair.

 “Jerkface, why are you driving so slow?” Max asks after a while, on the edge of her seat, leaning forward and holding on to both your and Billy's seat. “Did you wreck your car again?”

 “I'm under the speed limit.” He explains.

 “So you obey the laws now?”

 “I was in an accident I was a kid.” Turning your face to look at her, you gesture at the scar above your lip. “Got this after surgery to fix my wrecked lip. I lost my grandma and little brother that day.”

 “Oh, sorry.” She says, a sad expression on her face. “Drive safely,” Max tells her brother, slapping his arm.

 You wait for him to lash out at her, and by the look on her face, you know she's waiting for it too. But it doesn't come. Billy just rolls his eyes, hanging his arm out the window.

 “God, it's so hot.” The redhead complains as Billy enters their street. “Won't this heat wave go away?”

 “Not so soon. They're planning on opening the pool.” Billy adds.

 “Pool?”

 “Hawkins Community Pool. I worked there last summer as a lifeguard so they gave me a call.” Billy answers as he stops the car and steps out. You do the same but stand by the open passenger door. “They usually open in the Summer they're considering it because of this heatwave.” He gestures at the house. “Come. Neil isn't home, I'll show you the place.”

 “Alright.” Pushing the door close after taking your bag, you follow them through the sidewalk.

 “(Y/N), you're a tutor, right?” Max asks and you nod. “Could you help me? They'll only assign me to someone if I fail.”

 “Sure, I can help you off the records. What do you need help with?”

 “English. I suck and my teacher is definitely evil.” You enter the house as she speaks, looking around.

 “It's not the subject I'm tutoring but I can give you a hand. Just tell me when you're free so we can find a gap in my schedule.” Your eyes fall on the bench press in the middle of the living room, and it screams Billy Hargrove.

 “I'm free right now.” She exclaims.

 “Maxine, don't even think about it,” Billy warns.

 “Look, you're dating a decent, nice girl who is smart. Let me enjoy the benefits.” The girl snaps back, gesturing at the hall. “I'll get my stuff.”

 “Sure.” Smiling, you put your bag on the couch, but it falls and opens, spreading some papers around. “Shit.” You mumble as you kneel to catch them.

 Billy does the same, handing you a small pile of papers at the top of a notebook. “House of the Next Century?” He asks, and you look at the blue sheet of paper on the top of the pile.

 “It's an exposition from the Architecture School.” Putting everything back inside the bag, you stand up. “Liam's sister takes that course so she's involved and invited us.”

 “Sounds interesting.”

 “We can go if you want. But you know what else is interesting? Having a freaking bench press in the middle of the living room.”

 “Oh, you noticed.”

 “How could I miss it?” Walking over it, you check the weights. “Can you really lift those things? They're huge.” Holding the bar, you give a little push, but nothing moves.

 “I can make a show if you want.” Billy moves closer, but his eyes are on you.

 “You're so cocky, Billy.” Blushing, you look away, biting your lip.

 “When are you going to let me kiss you again?” He suddenly asks, taking you by surprise.

 You and Billy haven't kissed since that night, you're not sure why. “I don't know... On some special occasion, maybe.”

 “Special occasion, huh?” He says, a smirk taking over his lips. “I can work on that.”

 “You two can make out later, I need help,” Max speaks, making her way to the kitchen.

 “Duty calls.” Winking at Billy, you turn around and follow Maxine.

 The two of you get the kitchen table, and you have to read a couple of things to pick up what she needs help with. It's not that complicated, and you still remember some things from school, so it doesn't take much until you're explaining to her. Billy comes to the kitchen every once in a while, but as the night falls and after he makes the three of you a sandwich, he sticks around, listening.

 It gets to you that they're doing better. You don't think Billy hates his step-sister, they just annoy each other as all siblings do. And it even makes you laugh sometimes.

 “You could help me with History too,” Max says as she looks for chapter 7 of her book. “And Geography.”

 “I sure can.”

 “Maxine, stop stealing my girl's time.” Billy snaps, and you giggle.

 “I'm not your girl.” With both elbows on the take, a smirk comes to your lips.

 “Ouch!” The girl exclaims. “That must've hurt.”

 “Yet.” You decide to add soon after.

 “On your face, shitbird,” Billy answers, and you can't help but laugh.

 “The two of you are crazy.” You mumble in between laughs. “I really–” You're cut off not by the front door opening, and by the way Billy stands up abruptly, and Max's eyes go wide, you know who it is.

 “I told Anne we'd be joining them on Saturday.” A woman's voice speaks, and you wonder what you should do. Both Billy and Max seem nervous.

 “Alright then. She better make something good or else it'll be a waste of my damn time.” A man says, not sounding very excited about the woman's plans.

 “We have to-” Billy starts, but he stops talking the moment a man comes into the kitchen.

 Neil's eyes find you immediately, lingering for quite a while, flying then to Billy and Max. “Who is this girl in my house?” He inquires in a rude tone.

 “This is (Y/N). She's one of the tutors from the new campus and she's helping me study for the tests.” Max answers, and the woman, Susan, comes to the kitchen as well.

 Unlike Neil, she kindly smiles and walks over to you. “Hello, (Y/N). I'm Susan, Maxine's mother. Thanks for helping her.”

 “No need to thank me. I'm just doing my job.” You shyly say, shaking Susan's hand.

 “Come on, Neil. Let's leave them to do their thing.” Susan turns to face Neil.

 “What about you? What are you doing here?” He asks Billy.

 You can feel anger irradiating from him, and you just want to grab his hand and take him away. The atmosphere is heavy, almost tangible. You can tell Neil is trying not to let it show, but it's obvious. You can feel it. “Got hungry and made myself a sandwich.”

 “Then be a gentleman once in your life and make some for your sister and her teacher.”

 “He already did.” You speak up, way too abruptly, trying not to let your anger show. Under the table, you clench your fists.

 Neil nods exchanging a glance with his son. “Get back to your room then.”

 You shouldn't say anything. You should let it go and talk to Billy after. But you can't. “He's helping us.”

 “He is?”

 “Yes.” Max bursts out, looking at Neil. “He was making questions.”

 Neil doesn't believe it, but after glancing at Susan, he nods. “Alright then.”

 “She was leaving anyway,” Billy says.

 “(Y/N) could stay for dinner, right, honey?” Susan asks Niel with a smile. “To thank her for helping Max.”

 “That would be lovely, but I have somewhere to be.” With a forced smile, you stand up.

 “Me too. I can give her a ride home.”

 “Sure. Thanks, Billy.” Nodding, you walk around the table. “Max, let me know when you're free so we can continue, alright?”

 “Alright, (Y/N). Thank you.”

 “Good night, Mr. and Mrs. Hargrove.” You mutter, heading for the front door and stopping only to take your bag.

 Billy takes a minute to reach you on the sidewalk, and you wonder what Neil just told him. In silence, you both get into the car and you only relax when he drives away.

 “I'm sorry about that.” Billy apologies, eyes on the road. “I thought they'd be out until later.”

 “It wasn't your fault.” Reaching out your arm, you touch his shoulder. “I had a nice time with you and Maxine.”

 “Me too, (Y/N)...”

 There's pain in his voice, and it breaks your heart. “What's wrong?”

 “I don't want you near Neil. I don't want him looking at you as if-” He stops speaking, running a hand through his hair. “Neil has a taste for young girls. He cheats on Susan on a regular basis and I can't have him thinking about you that way.”

 You feel weird, remembering how he stared at you. “I'm sorry. But it doesn't matter now. Let's go home and order a pizza.” You only understand what you said when the words already left your mouth. And when you look at Billy, you see a smile he's trying to hide. So you can't take it back. You'll just let it be if it makes him happy. “I want pepperoni.”

 “Pepperoni it'll be then.”

 “Oh, and I have a request, Hawkins Community Pool lifeguard. Who do I have to pay to have that pool open? I wanna enjoy a free sample of Summer.”

 “I'll see what I can do for you, Princess.” He looks at you with a smile, the one that belongs to you alone.

•••

@aunicornmademedoit @alexa4040 @goth-cowgirl-03 @nyctophilic0vitnir @minispice-1