#like earlier I started reading through older texts and I

[mythicalmaven]

19 Lando fluff and smut please

Secret Desires - Lando Norris

Loved writing this! <3 If you guys want a part 2 where the whole ordeal continues (including Lando’s awkward encouter with Max) let me know!😂❤️

Masterlist ↳pairing: Lando Norris x female!verstappen!reader ↳word count: 4,6K ↳Summary: In which the reader is Max Verstappen's twin is Lando's friend & he accidentally confesses some things to her while he's drunk. The day after when he apologizes, it leads to something more. ↳content warnings: friends to lovers, reader is Max Verstappen's twin, lando is drunk and accidentally confesses something to the reader, suggestive content, flirting, dirty talk, sexting, sending nudes, phone sex, masturbation (both f! & m!), praise kink, fluff, smut, 18+ (MDNI!), confessing feelings ↳prompts used: 19 - "Do you have any idea how many times I thought about you.. with my hand down my pants"

You sighed deeply, sinking back into the comfort of the guest bed in your older sister's house, the covers wrapping around you like a warm embrace. The room felt different compared to your Monaco apartment, but it was cozy, filled with the nostalgia of growing up with your family as you saw the pictures hanging on the wall. Pictures of your parents, of you and your twin brother Max, of you and Victoria & so on.

You traded your own bed for the guest bedroom at Victoria's house back home in the Netherlands for the week, to spend some time with your sister again to catch up. After a long night of chatting with Vic, you finally decided to call it a day, though sleep was far from your mind.

Just as you were about to close your eyes to at least give sleeping a try, your phone lit up on the nightstand, a soft buzz drawing your attention. You reached over lazily, expecting a random notification, but your heart skipped a beat when you saw the name flashing on the screen: Lando

Your best friend, your partner in crime, and the guy you’d been secretly in love with for longer than you’d care to admit. The guy who made your heart race with a single smile and had you questioning your sanity every time you felt his touch linger just a little too long. Even though you refused to admit it to anyone with a passion. Stating that the way you felt about Lando was nothing more than two flirtatious friends. You knew you were lying to yourself and your facade was starting to crumble. And now he was texting you, at this hour?

Unlocking your phone, you were met with not one, but several messages from him. You squinted at the screen, reading the texts slowly as they loaded, your eyes widening more with each one.

Lando: Y/n… Lando: Fuhk.. why are you sooooo hotttt? 🥵 Lando: Do yhu have any idea howw many tiems I thout about you… with my hnd down my pantss Lando: *1 image attached* You felt your face heat up instantly, a wave of flustered shock washing over you. He send a photo that you had posted on your story on Instagram today, a photo of you in a cute bikini set at the pool at Vic's house.

What the hell? Lando was… Was he really saying what you thought he was saying? Your mind spun, trying to process the drunk, typo-riddled texts. You knew he must have had a few too many drinks tonight; he mentioned going out to a party with the grid earlier. But this?

Your fingers hovered over the keyboard, your heart racing as you tried to think of a response. A thousand emotions crashed through you at once—embarrassment, confusion, a thrill of excitement. You could barely breathe.

You: Lan, you're drunk as fuck. Go to sleep 😂

you typed back quickly, hitting send before you could second-guess yourself. You barely had time to process your own message before another one from Lando popped up.

Lando: Drunk on love 🤭

Your heart did a somersault in your chest, and you felt your cheeks burning even hotter. What was he doing? Your pulse thudded loudly in your ears as you stared at the screen, fingers frozen above the keyboard, unsure of what to say. Before you could collect your thoughts, your phone buzzed again, but this time, it was a call.

Max’s name flashed on the screen.

You answered, bringing the phone to your ear. “Max, what the hell—”

“Sorry dat ik zo laat bel,” (sorry for calling at this time) Max's voice was low and slightly slurred with a laugh. “Maar ik zag dat je online was, dus dacht, jij bent nog wakker. Wilde je alleen even een seintje geven dat de kans vrij aannemelijk is dat je vannacht nog dronken appjes krijgt van Lando.” (But I saw that you were online, so I figured you were still awake. Just wanted to give you a heads up that it's very likely that you'll receive some drunk texts from Lando tonight)

You rolled your eyes, stifling a laugh of your own. Of course, your twin brother knew exactly what was happening. “De kerel is echt gewoon laveloos en hield zijn mond maar niet dicht over je. De hele rit terug naar zijn apartment bleef hij maar zeuren over hoe hij je moest appen over iets geheimzinnigs. Dacht ik waarschuw je even.” (The guy is absolutely hammered and he wouldn't shut up about you. Kept yapping about how he had to text you about something secretive. Thought it would be nice to warn you)

“Te laat, is al gebeurd” (too late, he already did) you replied with a chuckle, glancing back at Lando's messages. “Had al zo’n vermoeden dat hij dronken was haha.” (I already figured he was drunk)

“Dacht ik al,” (I thought so) Max chuckled. “Hou het een beetje netjes, ja? Ik wil hier niet meer van weten dan ik al doe.” (Please keep it decent, yeah? I don't want to know any more about this than I already do)

You could almost hear the grin in his voice. “Maar ik moest hem echt thuisbrengen, de jongen was niet meer te houden.” (But I just had to bring him home, couldn't keep him at bay anymore)

“Dank je, Max,” (Thanks, Max) you said softly, biting your lip. “Je bent een goede broer.” (You're a good brother)

“Altijd,” (Always) Max replied. “Ik moet wel weer ophangen nu, voordat ik Kelly en P wakker maak. Succes met je dronken vriendje.” (Gotta hang now tho, before I wake up Kelly and P. Good luck with your boyfriend)

“Max, hoe vaak moet ik nog zeggen dat Lando en ik gewoon vrienden zijn” (Max, how often do I have to tell you that Lando and I are just friends) you said, rolling your eyes.

"Als jij jezelf niet zo voor de gek hield, waren jullie al lang samen" (If you didn't keep lying to yourself, you two would have dated a long time already) and with a last chuckle, he hung up.

You flopped back onto your bed, your mind racing, Lando’s texts still staring at you from the screen. Your fingers shook as you picked up your phone again, reading his words over and over, your stomach flipping with nerves and something else, something hotter, more dangerous.

With a deep breath, you tried to shake it off. Lando was just drunk, you told yourself. He didn’t mean it. It didn’t mean anything… Right? But the way your heart fluttered at the thought of him thinking about you like that, the way your skin prickled with excitement at the idea that maybe, just maybe, he felt the same way…

You forced yourself to put the phone down, closing your eyes and trying to ignore the wild thoughts racing through your mind. It was late, and you needed to sleep. But as you drifted off, your dreams were anything but peaceful. Lando's words echoed in your mind, and you found yourself imagining all the things he might have done while thinking about you, the way he might have said your name, the way his hands might have—

You woke up, flustered and breathless, your body tingling in a way that was all too familiar. The morning sun was peeking through the curtains, but all you could think about was Lando, and the way his words made you feel things you’d tried so hard to ignore.

Around the same time, somewhere in Monaco, Lando jolts awake.

"Fuck" the single word comes out as a hiss, his head pounding from the hangover. His phone screen glares back at him, a series of messages and a notification from Max catching his blurry gaze. He squints, his heart starting to race as fragmented memories of the night before come flooding back.

He fumbles to unlock his phone, praying he didn’t do what he thinks he did. But the evidence is right there, the bold lettering of your name above the most mortifying message he could ever have sent, full of typos, but easily desiphered as 'Do you have any idea how many times I thought about you… with my hand down my pants?'

“Shit, shit, shit,” he mutters, running a hand through his messy curls, anxiety flooding his system. What the fuck had he done? His fingers move of their own accord, tapping out a frantic apology.

Lando: Shit, Y/N, I’m so sorry.

You: Good morning to you too. How is your headache? 😉

He cringes at the situation, a mix of playful and mocking. His mind races, grasping at straws to somehow make this situation less embarrassing.

Lando: I don’t even remember sending that. I’m so fucking sorry, I don’t know what I was thinking, pretty sure I wasn't thinking at all. I didn’t mean it.

A lie. He did mean it. But he’s not ready to admit that just yet.

You: Oh, you definitely weren’t thinking, lol. But hey, maybe you should apologize to Max too, since you apparently spilled some beans about me to him. 😆

Lando’s eyes widen, horror painting his features. “Oh, fuck,” he groans, rubbing his forehead. He types back, heart racing.

Lando: What did I say? Please tell me I didn’t—

You: Relax, nothing too scandalous. Just enough for Max to find it disgusting.

Despite himself, a small laugh escapes his lips. He can picture Max’s reaction, the exaggerated gagging, the inevitable jokes he’ll have to endure.

Lando: I’m so sorry. Are you mad at me? I don’t want you to think I’m some idiot who can’t control himself.

You: Nah, I’m not mad. You were drunk, it’s not like you meant it anyway, right?

He swallows hard, your words hitting too close to home. A dry response forms on his screen.

Lando: Yeah, sure.

But deep down, he knows it’s not true. He’d thought about you like that more times than he cared to admit, a dangerous longing simmering beneath the surface of your friendship.

You: Hey, at least now I know I looked hot in yesterday’s bikini post.

Heat floods his cheeks. You’re playing it off, but there’s a hint of something in your words, a subtle curiosity. He swallows, fingers hovering over the keyboard before he types back, heart pounding.

Lando: Stating the obvious.

He can’t help the grin tugging at his lips as he imagines your reaction. It’s risky, but you don’t seem upset, and he’s willing to test the waters.

You: Oh? So you think I’m hot?

Lando: Didn’t know that was up for debate.

He’s toeing the line, the thrill of it sending a spark through him.

Lando: U really not mad? I’d hate to make you uncomfortable.

You: Mad? Nah. Flattered, maybe.

He blinks at your response, surprise mingling with a rush of arousal. Flattered? His mind reels, thoughts scrambling as he tries to figure out what to say next.

You: I have to admit tho, when I first got that message, I thought you’d sent something different than my own instagram post…🤭

His breath catches, heart skipping a beat. The implication is clear, and he feels himself growing hard at the mere thought of you expecting a more explicit photo from him. He shifts uncomfortably, typing out a teasing response.

Lando: So, you’re saying you opened it anyway, even though you thought I sent you a spicy picture? 😉

You: Shut up.

He laughs, imagining the flustered look on your face. It’s too easy to picture, and he leans back against his pillows, biting his lip.

Lando: Where are you?

You: In bed. Why?

Lando's breath got caught in his throat. A dangerous idea takes root in his mind, one that’s equally thrilling and terrifying. He knows he should stop, should draw the line before it goes too far. But something in your responses, the playful edge, the hint of curiosity, makes him want to push further.

Lando: Just curious. 😉

His mind races, and before he can second-guess himself, he snaps a quick photo. It’s not much,—just him lying back on his bed, shirt unbuttoned halfway, his abs on display and his hair a mess. He was still wearing the same outfit as yesterday, apparently not changed out of it. But there’s something undeniably suggestive in the way he looks at the camera, the flush on his cheeks, a knowing smile on his lips as he sends it with a caption.

Lando: I can send you one for real if you want to see one.

His heart hammers in his chest as he waits for your response, the seconds dragging by agonizingly slowly. Then your reply comes in, teasing and playful.

You: Kinda daring coming from the guy who was apologizing 10 minutes ago for accidentally sending his best friend a text about thinking about her with his hand down his pants😉

Your words send a thrill through him, the boldness of it, the way you’re not backing down. He can’t resist pushing a little further, fingers trembling with anticipation.

Lando: You didn’t seem too disgusted by it.

The moment stretches out, his breath catching as he waits for your reply. The tightness in his dress pants becoming significantly worde.

When it comes, it’s more than he expected. 

You: I wasn’t. Actually, it was kinda hot.🫣

His eyes widen, arousal spiking as he reads your words again and again, disbelieving. Is this really happening? 

Lando: Yeah?

You: Yeah.

He swallows hard, a wicked idea forming in his mind. He glances down at the growing bulge in his pants, his arousal straining against the fabric. His hand moves almost on its own, snapping a quick picture of his hand palming himself through his dress pants, the outline of his erection unmistakable.

Lando: What about this? Still hot?

Your response is almost immediate.

You: Fuck, yes.

The words send a shiver down his spine, desire flaring as he imagines your reaction, the way you must be looking at your phone. He wants more, needs more.

Lando: Your turn.

There’s a pause, then a photo comes through. His breath hitches at the sight of you, flushed and flustered, the soft curve of your cleavage visible just above the red lace of your bra. It wasn't too naughty, but enough to send Lando reeling. 

He groans, his hand moving down to rub himself through his pants, a low moan escaping him as he imagines what’s beneath that thin fabric.

Lando: Fuck, babe, you’re killing me.

You: Good.

The playfulness in your response only fuels his desire, and he knows he should stop, should take a breath before this spirals out of control. But he doesn’t want to. Instead, he hits record on his camera, aiming it down at his crotch as he begins to palm himself through the fabric.

The video is short, just a few seconds of him rubbing himself, a low groan slipping from his lips. He ends it with a whispered “fuck,” his hand slipping beneath the waistband of his pants to give himself a teasing stroke before the video cuts off.

He sends it without thinking, heart racing as he imagines you watching it, the way your breath might hitch, the way you might bite your lip.

You: You’re really enjoying that, huh?

His breath hitched at your words, every sensation heightened as he slowly works himself up and down inside his dress pants, unable to contain the soft groans leaving his lips.

Lando: I do. Feels amazing... I wish you were here with me.

His hand is shaking now as he types out his next message, his arousal growing with every word.

Lando: Show me more.

There’s a beat of silence, and then another picture comes through. This one is more daring, more revealing. You’re under the blankets, one leg exposed, the other hidden beneath the covers. The waistband of your red panties is just visible above the edge of your blanket, your hand resting suggestively on your lower stomach, fingers reaching just into your panties.

Lando: Fuck, babe, that's so hot

Lando's breath catches as he stares at the photo you sent, his mind racing with all the things he wants to say, all the things he wants to do. He decided to take the leap and press the button to send you a facetime request. You accept it almost immediately, his heart pounding as your face fills the screen. You look flustered, lips slightly parted, and he swallows hard.

“Hi,” you say, your voice breathless, almost shy.

“You’re really fucking beautiful, you know that?” Lando murmurs, his voice thick with desire as he admired your flushed face.

You blush, your eyes darting away from the screen for a moment before you look back at him. “I think you’re the one who’s supposed to be embarrassed right now, not me.”

He grins, the playful tone of your voice sending another jolt of arousal through him. “Oh, trust me, I’m plenty embarrassed. But I’m also…” He hesitates, his gaze dropping down for a moment before he meets your eyes again, his voice dropping to a lower, huskier tone. “... really turned on.”

Your breath catches, and he watches as you shift on the bed, the movement causing the camera to reveal a little bit more of your cleavage and the red lace bra you were wearing. His eyes are drawn to the exposed skin, mesmerized by your body.

“What are you wearing?” The question slips out before he can stop it, his eyes dark with desire.

You glance down at yourself, then back at him, a mischievous smile tugging at your lips. “Not much.”

He groans, his hand tightening around his phone. As he speaks, his other hand drifts back down, brushing over the ever-growing bulge in his pants again. “Can I see?” The words are thick with anticipation, his voice trembling slightly as he palms himself, the sensation sending a wave of pleasure through him. He bites his lip, letting out a quiet moan that he can’t quite suppress.

You hesitate, your teeth worrying your bottom lip as you consider his request. Then, slowly, you change your camera angle and pull the blanket down just a little, revealing the soft skin of your stomach, the red lace of your panties, the soft curve of your thigh. Lando feels a jolt of arousal shooting through him, and he has to bite back a groan. It’s just enough to tease, to make him want more. 

“Fuck, Y/N…” His voice is rough, strained, as he shifts on the bed, the fabric of his pants suddenly feeling too tight, too restrictive. His hand presses harder against his length, his breath hitching as the friction sends sparks of pleasure shooting through him.

You giggle, your eyes sparkling with a mix of nervousness and excitement. “You like what you see?”

“Like?” He shakes his head, his eyes glued to the screen. “I fucking love it.”

Your cheeks flush a deeper red, and you lean back a little, giving him an even better view of your body. His mouth goes dry as he takes in the sight of you, the way the red lace clings to your skin, the hint of cleavage peeking out from beneath your bra. He can see the way your chest rises and falls with each breath, the anticipation, the arousal clear in your eyes.

“Your turn,” you murmur, your voice barely more than a whisper, but it’s enough to send his heart racing.

He doesn’t need to be told twice. With one hand still holding his phone, he shifts back on the bed, his other hand moving to the waistband of his pants. His fingers fumble with the button, his hands shaking slightly as he pops it open, his eyes never leaving your face.

Your breath hitches as he unzips his pants, his erection straining against the fabric of his boxers. He pauses for a moment, his eyes flicking up to yours, seeking permission. When you nod, he slides his hand into his boxers, his breath coming out in a shaky exhale as he wraps his fingers around his length.

“Fuck…” The word slips out as he strokes himself slowly, his eyes fluttering shut for a moment before he forces them open again, needing to see your reaction. His voice trembles, laced with a mix of desire and restraint, each moan escaping his lips growing louder as he quickens his pace.

Your eyes are wide, your lips slightly parted as you watch him, your hand moving down towards your panties on their own accord, fingers brushing lightly over the fabric “Fuck, that's hot, Lando…”

He groans at the sound of his name on your lips, his boxers now pushed low enough to reveal his cock, hand moving faster, the friction sending sparks of pleasure shooting through him. “Touch yourself for me,” he murmurs, his voice thick with desire. “Please.”

You bite your lip, waiting just a moment before you slip your hand beneath the waistband of your panties, a soft gasp escaping you as your fingers make contact. The sight of you, the way your body arches slightly, the soft, breathless sounds you make, is almost too much for him.

“Fuck, babe, you’re so fucking hot…” His voice is barely more than a growl as he watches you, his own hand moving faster, the pleasure building inside him, threatening to spill over.

“What would you do to me if I was right there?” you ask, your voice a breathless whisper.

His eyes darken, his grip tightening around himself. “I’d start by kissing you, slowly… working my way down your body.” His voice is rough, each word laced with longing. “I’d touch you everywhere, make you feel so good. Then I’d…” his words getting cut off by his own moan.

“Tell me,” you encourage, your own voice trembling with need.

“I’d bury my face between your legs, make you scream my name,” he groans, his strokes becoming more erratic as he imagines it, his mind filled with nothing but thoughts of you. “F-Fuck, I want you so bad.”

You moan at his words, your fingers moving faster as you picture it, your body aching for his touch. “Lando, I…”

“Keep going,” he whispers, his voice thick with desire. “Tell me what you’d do to me.”

“I’d touch you,” you breathe, your voice trembling as your fingers move in sync with his. “I’d wrap my fingers around you, just like you’re doing now… make you feel so good, Lan”

He whimpers at your words, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he imagines it, the sensation of your touch almost too real. “Fuck, Y/N, I need you…”

“Imagine it’s my hand, Lan” you whisper, your voice laced with seduction. “Imagine I’m right there with you…”

His moans grow louder, his hips bucking into his hand as he follows your words, his mind filled with nothing but thoughts of you. “I’m so close…”

“Me too,” you whisper, your breath hitching as you feel the pleasure building, your body trembling with anticipation.

“God, you’re amazing,” he pants, his voice filled with praise as he watches you, every movement driving him closer to the edge. “You’re so perfect… I want you so bad…”

Your voice is a breathless moan as you reach the brink, your body arching off the bed as the pleasure consumes you "F-Fuck, Lan, I'm coming"

“Fuck, baby, I’m right there with you…” His voice is ragged, his body tensing as he teeters on the edge, every muscle tightening in anticipation. You watch, breathless, as his hand moves faster, more desperately, his grip tightening around his length.

Then, with a strangled moan, he tips over the edge. His hips jerk, and his head falls back against the pillows as he cums, thick ropes of it spilling out and covering his abdomen. You can see the way his abs contract with each pulse, his hand still working himself through every last wave of pleasure, milking himself until he’s spent. His eyes remain locked on yours, his breathing heavy, a mixture of satisfaction and lingering desire in his gaze as you both ride the waves of your shared climax.

For a few moments, the only sound is your ragged breathing, both of you staring at each other through the screen, the intensity of what just happened hanging heavy in the air.

“Fuck…” He laughs breathlessly, his head falling back against the pillows as he runs a hand through his hair. “That was…”

“Amazing,” you finish for him, your own laughter bubbling up, your cheeks still flushed, your body still trembling slightly from the aftershocks. “Holy shit, Lando…”

“Yeah.” He grins, his heart still racing as he looks at you, the reality of what you just did slowly sinking in. “Are you… okay?”

You nod, your smile softening as you look at him. “Yeah, I’m okay. More than okay.”

His heart swells at your words, relief flooding through him. He’s about to say something else when you shift on the bed, the blanket slipping down a little further, giving him a glimpse of your bare shoulder.

“Lando,” you murmur, your eyes meeting his through the screen, a mischievous glint in your gaze. “If that was just a taste, I can’t wait to see what happens when we’re see each other again.”

The promise in your words sends a shiver down his spine, his mind racing at the thought of having you, really having you, right in front of him. 

“Fuck, Y/N, you have no idea what you’re doing to me…” His voice is a low whisper, his eyes still dark with desire.

“Maybe I have an idea,” you tease, your smile widening as you settle back against the pillows, your gaze never leaving his. “When I fly back to Monaco in a few days, maybe you should pick me up from the airport... and then we can do this again, but then in real life”

His heart skips a beat at your words, excitement and anticipation flooding through him. “You mean that?”

You nod, your smile softening, your eyes filled with a tenderness that makes his chest ache. “Yeah, I mean that. I want you, Lando. All of you.”

His breath catches, the sincerity in your voice, the way you’re looking at him, making his heart race. He knows, in that moment, that this isn’t just about sex, about fulfilling a desire that’s been simmering beneath the surface for years. It’s about more, so much more.

“Y/N… there’s something else I need to tell you,” he says, his voice steady but laced with emotion.

Your gaze softens, sensing the seriousness in his tone. “What is it, Lando?”

He hesitates for just a moment, gathering his thoughts before he continues. “I’ve been in love with you for so long. It’s not just about my text last night or about what we just did. I've been feeling like this for a while. It’s everything. Every time we’ve laughed together, every time you’ve supported me, every time I’ve seen you smile... I’ve been falling for you more and more.”

You feel your heart swell at his words, a warmth spreading through your chest. Finally ready to admit it out loud. “Lando... I’ve felt the same way. I’ve just been too scared to admit it.”

He lets out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding, relief washing over him. “You have no idea how happy that makes me. I’ve wanted to say something for so long, but I was afraid I’d ruin what we have.”

“You haven’t ruined anything,” you say softly. “If anything, you’ve made it better.”

A wide smile spreads across his face, his eyes shining with emotion. “I’ve never been so thankful for getting drunk.”

You laugh, the sound light and filled with joy. “Me neither, Lando. Me neither.”

There’s a moment of comfortable silence, both of you just taking in the reality of what’s been confessed.

“So… when I fly back to Monaco in a few days, maybe we could start something real?” you suggest, your voice hopeful.

“I’d like that,” he replies, his heart swelling with happiness. “I’d like that a lot.”

“Then it’s a plan,” you say, a smile tugging at your lips.

"God, I wish I could kiss you now" he whispered, a small hint of disappointment in his voice.

And with that, you both know that this is just the beginning of something truly special, something that’s been waiting to happen for far too long.

Sequel

Masterlist

[heartmaddie]

kageyama who has a crush on you :(

involves : pre time skip , fluff , implied shorter reader, can be read gn!

kageyama tobio loves consistency, he loves the familiar fabric of a volleyball against his finger tips, he loves waking up everyday at 5:00 to run for a half hour before getting ready for school. he loves having the same breakfast everyday, he found comfort in consistency, it’s been that way since he was young. it’s not something he ever wants to change.

kageyama tobio is so infatuated with you and he doesn’t even realise it for the longest time. not even when he commutes to school with you every morning, even though it’s inconvenient to take the bus to your house first. he’ll be outside your door at 6:30 everyday, he’d rather be late for volleyball practice than not be in your presence for at least an hour in the morning light.

kageyama tobio’s favourite season is winter, he likes watching the snow fall on chilly days and he thinks that the cold air is refreshing against his skin during his morning runs, but most of all, he likes seeing you wrapped up in a woollen coat as you tightly grasp your warm cup, searching for the smallest amount of warmth as you sip on your lightly caffeinated drink to help you adjust to the morning dew.

kageyama tobio who only realised his feelings were a bit more than platonic when sugawara vaguely suggested it, “who’s that person you’re always with?” the older boy asks as he folds extra towels, “oh y/n?, they’re my friend from junior high” kageyama explains,. “they’re pretty, aren’t they?” sugawara asks, intending to tease him a bit, but kageyama continues expressionless, “i mean i guess. i remember one time we took the bus together and it was the morning, so the sun hit their face nicely and their eyes were this amber colour i’ve never seen before. i’ve felt differently about their appearance since then” and sugawara was literally like ‘wtf boy’ and explained to him what romantic feelings were 😭

kageyama tobio who shares his wired earplugs with you, standing close to you the both of you listen to some random j-soft rock song he thinks he’s niche for listening to, but he’s really not. he’s comforted when you press your shoulders up against each others so that the bud doesn’t come out.

kageyama tobio’s first time ever initiating something physical with you was when he gently laid his head on your shoulder in the privacy of his room, seeking comfort after a devastating lost from all your friends from junior high, he was a bit embarrassed from the way his heart squeezed when you wrapped your arms around his back and whispered in his ears that he’d be okay.

kageyama tobio who was surprised when you texted him and said not to pick you up today since you were a bit sickly, and he was a bit grouchy and tight because it messed up his schedule (he was worried for you and didn’t like it when you were sick). but you were even more surprised when you hear his deep voice vibrate through your room, “are you awake?” he whispers, you respond with a nod and he sighs in response.

kageyama tobio who sits nearby you, making sure to keep you on your bed as he gently places a cold towel on your forehead, making you swallow different medicines after feeding you okayu that his mother made earlier that day, he scolds you for being careless and getting sick like this.

kageyama tobio who was told by his whole volleyball team that the best way to ask someone out is proudly and with a big confession, and he was literally about to do that until that night his mother advised him to be intimate and personal while confessing, which is how he ended up in the kitchen tempering chocolate all night.

“y/n!” he says, rushing into your classroom, panting heavily so he could find you right before lunch started, your classmates were confused as he drags you right out the room and nearby the tree where you eat with him everyday.

“is something wrong?” you ask curiously, squeezing his hand as you watched him pant

“no, no.. it’s not that” he muttered, his face bright red. “let me just..” he rummages through his bag. you bite down on your lip as you try not to smile, it was endearing watching him like this.

he took a deep breath and gently placed a clear cellophane bag with a white ribbon tying it neatly together in your hands, it was filled with a couple pink and red heart shaped chocolates, causing you to flush and look up at him expectantly.

“i really like you y/n, can i be your boyfriend?”

you spent the bus home leaning on his shoulder as you quietly shared your sweets with him.

kageyama tobio whose life changed slightly everyday when you started dating officially. he liked how you’d cling onto his arm when you were cold, or every morning when he greeted you with a kiss you’d look up at him flushed with your bottom lip tucked under your teeth. he liked the small, intimate changes which occurred after he confessed to you.

tobio kageyama loved consistency, but he loved you just that much more. extra !

you're still wearing your blazer and wishing your friends goodbye as you cried, it was the end of high school after all. when the time's right, tobio's pulling you away from your friends, taking you to the tree where he confessed to you three years ago, "y/n" he mumbles into your ear as he holds you tight, basking in the last moments of high school love he'd have with you. "tobio, is something wrong?" you ask, gently pushing his raven hair out of his face as he looks down at you. "no.." he rummages through his pocket, opening your hand with his fingers and slipping his small , second black blazer button into your palm, he encloses them with his own.

"i got selected for the japan national team" he mumbles as if it was nothing, causing you gasp, "really tobio that's so exci-" he smiles into your skin, cutting you off. "come to tokyo with me, we can start our life there"

! please consider liking, reblogging or following if you enjoyed :3 guys writing is so scratching my head but its lowk fun - why do i get so nerovus posting uhh

[harstyle]

the styles' nanny: part two

Summary: Harry finally realizes his mistake, but is it too late? Featuring a strange encounter with Jamie’s mother, another sad drinking session and an unfiltered conversation that changes everything.

Pairing: plussize-nanny!y/n + older-singledad!harry

Word-count: 10.2k

Warnings: age gap (13 years), mentions of alcohol and drinking, kissing, mentions of sex

here’s part one!

A/N: guys!!! It’s been three months!!! I hope you haven’t completely lost interest in this story :( I’m sorry I’ve kept you waiting for so long, I just didn’t expect so many things to come up (plus somewhere along the way I lost motivation). I also hope you enjoy this second and (at least for now) last part. No smut, but maybe in a blurb/oneshot of some kind? Anyway thanks for waiting and happy reading!

—

I’m resigning. I will stay until we find a replacement but not longer than necessary. I thank you for your generosity during my time working for you, but I’m ready for a fresh start as I think it’s what would be best for me right now. 

I’ll see you soon,

Y/N

That was the text Harry had received at 11am, just one hour ago. He’d called profusely, probably ten times in total, and sent out a pathetic amount of text messages that had all gone ignored and unanswered. 

Harry had lashed out— he could see that now; he’d been horribly unfair and he had taken advantage of Y/N’s inability to express herself in situations of distress. Harry’s worst trait was his short-temperedness and while he had gone through years of therapy to work on it, sometimes it took ahold of him in ways he couldn’t realize until after the fact.

Of course the last thing he’d wanted was for her to resign, which was exactly why her message had twisted his stomach a bit more intensely than he would’ve liked; he had no idea how to rectify this situation. Most things in his life went as he wished and if they didn’t, he found it was easy to make it so they did. But not now— no, he had to think about this carefully.

It had turned one when his phone rang; he was typing away in his office, trying to distract himself.  Her caller ID flashed on his screen, but it wasn’t her voice that caught his ears— it was a man’s. A man’s who’s name was Andrew.

“I’m from the viper,” he said, and Harry could swear he started seeing red, “your friend Y/N got a little too drunk for me to feel comfortable sending her away on her own. Is there any way you could come pick her up?” 

Harry couldn’t help the string of curses which left his mouth as he gathered his house key. “Is she okay?” He asked, only to receive a conflicted hum. 

“She had too many martinis and she was crying earlier. She said something about a fight.” 

“Yeah, okay. Thanks, man. Will you keep an eye out until I get there?” 

“Of course.” 

As Harry got into his car, he felt the overwhelming urge to chastise her, to keep talking until she finally listened to him when it came to her own safety. Not even one day had passed since he’d had to pick her up the last time— no lesson learned, no regrets.

But then, as he neared the bar, the rational part of his brain advised him against it. Y/N was no child, she was aware of her actions and she knew what was best for her— so for Harry to act high and mighty would be wrong and uncalled for.

He needed to just be there for her. Drop the barrier and be there.

He was ready to offer that to her.

—

Y/N could swear her eyes were playing tricks on her. It wouldn’t be unrealistic, really, her vision had become blurry about an hour ago— but, well, she would probably recognize that silhouette anywhere. He wore jeans and a shirt and his hair was still styled for work; Andrew was pointing at her, and so his green eyes followed. When he spotted her, Y/N felt naked under his gaze.

And before she knew it, he was walking toward her.

“What are you doing here?” She demanded, lower lip jutted out in a pout. Y/N had gone drinking in the hopes of distracting herself— and yes, maybe it wasn’t exactly working, but it definitely wouldn’t start working if he was physically here.

“Andrew called me. Stand up, I’m taking you home.”

Andrew was somebody she‘d met a few hours ago. Originally he‘d flirted with her, asking questions about her as she sat at the bar willing to answer all of them soberly— but once eleven had struck, all she could talk about was Harry. Y/N wasn’t fond of airing dirty laundry so she‘d left the gory details of their fight out, but Andrew knew of a fight.

She was starting to regret it now that Harry was here.

Instead of doing as he’d asked— or ordered, more like, she leaned into the booth further.

“No.”

His eyebrow raised, “no?”

“I don’t leave or go out with dickheads. You taught me that.”

He looked ticked off and it satisfied something within her that had been needing it all night. When he breathed a sigh, eyes closing momentarily, she knew she had him.

“Y/N, would you please humor me and let me take you home? We can keep talking in the car, but not in front of these people.”

“What if I don’t want to go home, huh? Why are you always telling me what to do like you have the right? You’re not my dad.” Her words were slurred and her expression loose. Then she laughed to herself, giggled actually, ridiculously loud. “That’s funny, of course you’re not my dad cause he’s dead! Dead, six feet underground, you know? Probably lower, cause he definitely didn’t go to heaven! He’s, like, really deep underground.”

Concern warped his features.

“Y/N,” he warned, “please.”

She’d turned heads.

“But you know what you and my dad have in common? Yelling. Just yelling, for no fucking reason— yell yell yell, make it feel like my fault even though it isn’t. Right? That’s what my dad used to do to my mom, you know that? That’s why he’s in hell.” 

She was pointing an accusatory finger at him, slurring even more than before.

“And you know what I said to her when she left him? That I would never let a man treat me that way. Never! Promised, hand on my heart and everything, I promised. But you’re different, aren’t you? Cause I like you, cause you’re not like my dad.” Her face fell again into the surfaces of her palms, “you’re not like my dad, but you reminded me of him. And I feel— feel like I’m betraying my mom.” Y/N hiccuped quietly, stumbling over a few words.

The gravity of her words were not lost on him— in fact, he’d never felt as guilty in his life.

“Hey,” he beckoned her to look at him, placing his tentative hand atop her arm, “we’ll talk about it. About everything. But not now. Not here.”

“You’re so confusing, you know that? One second you’re really nice to me and then— and then you aren’t.”

“Sweetheart,” he grasped her face as a last attempt to catch her undivided attention. Harry thumbed at her cheek and stared dutifully into her clouded eyes, “let me take care of you tonight. I’ll make it better.”

In all fairness, she’d lost the fight the second his eyes had met hers. There was something about them, maybe their deep shade of green or how effortlessly she could read them, that could probably persuade her into doing anything.

“Fine,” she mumbled after a minute, letting Harry wrap an arm around her waist as they walked. On their way out Y/N said goodbye to Andrew and stayed quiet otherwise, choosing to give Harry the silent treatment. Harry knew he couldn’t expect her to speak to him, so he didn’t force it.

As they drove, Harry couldn’t help glancing over every once in a while to study her expressions. There was barely a moment she wasn’t staring out the window watching cars drive by; even when his hand instinctively landed on her thigh she didn’t react, only moving it away slightly from his touch.

“Are you driving me to my apartment?”

And although both of them knew he’d really been directed toward his house, Harry still pretended to have chosen to take another route. “Course,” he muttered hoarsely, trying to mask his embarrassment with a quiet cough. Y/N sighed, her eyes pressing shut for a moment as she tried to let the guilt roll off of her back. He doesn’t deserve your sympathy.

“Where’s Jamie?”

He clicked his tongue. “Still at my mother’s.”

“Oh.”

The stubborn thing she was, Y/N refused Harry’s help getting out of the car. Instead she opened the door by herself, almost tripped when she jumped down from her seat and kept a distance anyway. Harry still watched, though, ready to help if needed.

Y/N unlocked the door (failing to find the keyhole several times) and kept it wide open for Harry to follow behind. The first thing she did was toe off her shoes followed by falling into bed.

“Y/N, have some water.”

“Stop telling me what to do,” she uttered, but accepted the glass of water anyway.

He ignored her. “Are you hungry?”

“I’m tired.”

“You can sleep as soon as you’ve changed and washed your face.”

She groaned, pulling a blanket over her head, “Harry…”

“Y/N.”

That stern mention of her name was enough to get her out of bed, limbs pretty much hanging loosely from her body as if she had no control over them— and honestly, it felt like she didn’t. Her eyes closed as Harry wiped a cool cloth over her face, ridding it of a light layer of makeup and sweat, everything that had accumulated at the bar. There were times she leaned into him, forehead falling to his shoulder and arms wrapping instinctively around his waist for support. She could swear that for a moment he’d pressed his lips to her forehead, but the daydream she was in barred her from really registering it.

“Why’d you go out drinking again?”

“Wanted to.”

“Told you not to do that. I meant it.”

“Well people keep hurting my feelings,” she mumbled, “and drinking your pain away is kind of a tradition in my family, so.”

Y/N had never really shared personal details about her family to Harry, but… well, the words were flowing right out of her mouth and the memories reincarnated newly in her head. She was referring to her mother, the former alcoholic in the family. Growing up her mother had drunk so much that she’d almost died from liver failure. As a small child Y/N had promised herself never to end up like her, but she was starting to understand more and more why her mother spent so many years drinking.

Harry‘s thoughts stayed internalized, but he made sure to make her feel heard. Rubbing over the top of her eyebrow, his breath hit her forehead as he spoke,  “I’m so sorry, sweetheart. You didn’t deserve it.”

Her eyes peeked open, the previously warm towel no longer warm. Harry ran it under water again. “Deserve what?”

“Everything, especially the way I behaved earlier. I should’ve taken a moment to myself, instead I lashed out on you.”

It wasn’t until now that Y/N noticed the close proximity between her and Harry— obviously she knew he was cleaning her face for her, but it didn’t really click until now, she supposed. She could see everything, but it didn’t really matter; there was nothing about Harry, especially on him, that could deter her from thinking of him as the most beautiful man alive. Imperfections and all.

The towel met her neck this time, the other side held upright by his steady hand. She could feel his thumb tracing shapes on the surface of her skin and although she was trying very hard not to think of him in any inappropriate way, the image of his hand wrapped around her throat awakened something horrible within the confines of her intoxicated mind. It stayed there.

It was self destructive how often she spent thinking about him, really.

“You still there, baby?”

And he was so gentle— whenever he wasn’t yelling at her, of course— and soft, knowing the lines of what she could handle and what she couldn’t. No man had ever been this considerate and while it may just be his nature, it meant everything to Y/N. As the boundaries had begun to blur more and more, it became easier to misinterpret normal gestures for something more, something so much realer than it could ever be.

But he was calling her baby, and nobody had done that before.

“Yeah.”

“You were much more mouthy back in the bar,” he breathed out, an amused smile tugging at his lips. “Don’t wanna yell at me anymore?”

“No, I‘m not like you.”

“Ouch.”

Harry was humoring her and while it was really really nice; this whole thing, the gentle touches and the giggles shared in between a serious conversation, Y/N couldn’t let it get to her head.

“You were really mean to me and I didn’t do anything.”

His eyes searched for hers, but hers were stuck to his chest. “I know. I don’t know how to make it up to you, but I’ll spend a long time trying, I promise. You’re so sweet to me, so nice, I don’t mean to hurt your feelings. You know that, right?”

And although her heart was still furiously bleeding out, she was willing to ignore that for now. Throw bandages on and refuse a trip to the hospital because really she was just fine. There was just something about how he spoke to her that made it feel like she was floating— like she really was fine. 

“Yeah.”

“Good, it’s very important to me that you do.”

Y/N’s eyes nearly glazed over when she thought about Harry being like this on the regular. It was a dangerous game they were playing.

 “Look at me,” he breathed, beckoning her to do so with the grip he still had on her throat. Her eyes looked so innocent in this moment and although Harry knew Y/N was nothing if not tainted, she looked like she’d never been touched by the realities of life. “So pretty, you know that? So beautiful.”

She felt smaller in his gaze. “You think so?”

Y/N didn’t think anyone had said that to her ever. Nothing of the sort.

“I know so.”

“Thank you.”

“How about we go find you something comfortable to sleep in, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Y/N shook her head, willing to rid herself of this weird tension in her body before allowing Harry to lead her back into the bedroom. She sat on the edge of the bed as Harry retrieved some clothes and looked up at him expectantly when she could barely keep upright.

“You sure?”

“I physically can’t stand up, Harry.”

And though he looked torn, he ended up reaching for her sweater to pull it over her body, revealing the lacy bra she hid underneath. Y/N’s breasts had always been the biggest ones amongst her skinny friends and growing up she often felt ridiculed for it, though she supposed she could count on Harry not to judge. They were just there, so why pretend like they weren’t?

For Harry, taking off Y/N’s sweater was a completely different experience and although he didn’t wish to be a creep, he couldn’t help but letting out an awkward but knowing cough when he accidentally stared right down them. He hastily threw the shirt he’d brought her onto her torso, scared of what would happen if he were to delay it any longer. Harry prided himself on being a respectful man, but being with Y/N had always tested that quality of his.

“What?” She asked, a touch of feigned innocence to her tone, and he rushed to shake his head.

She knew what.

“Nothing.”

“M’kay.”

“Stand up for me?”

Y/N felt less amazing about her thighs, to be frank. She couldn’t really explain it, but they weren’t visually pleasing to her; cellulite littered the back of them and she obviously didn’t have a thigh gap, but that had become less of an issue. Y/N felt like her thighs had no real redeeming quality. It was a destructive way of thinking, she would admit, but… well, she’d carried that around since childhood.

As Harry pulled down her jeans, she felt void of anything. She didn’t exactly feel great, but better than when other guys had taken off her trousers. It was probably his age. She figured maturity increased as age did, and if Harry were to dislike the look of her body, he would be graceful about it.

“Hold onto my shoulders and lift your right leg.”

He got on his knees in front of her, pulling one leg in after the other. After doing so successfully, he allowed her to get under the covers.

“I’m still mad at you,” she mumbled into the covers, eyes fluttering to a close.

He hummed, “I know.”

“But thank you.”

“Don’t have to thank me for taking care of you.”

“Mhm,” she breathed, “it’ll be the last time, I promise.”

Sleep was pulling at her eyelids.

“Last time what?”

He received no answer. Upon a closer look, he saw Y/N completely overtaken by sleep. Her lips were situated in a pout and her foot peeked out of her thick comforter in the way he had already seen last time he’d brought her to bed.

He allowed himself more time to watch over her this time, scared that if he were to leave it would be the last he saw of her. The anxiety settled on his chest in heavy waves and the image of a precious Y/N was slipping further away from his mind. He had been a horrible person, allowing himself to become the type of man he’d always tried not to be… and he couldn’t do that to her. He couldn’t let this be that with her. He couldn’t bare it.

Harry had always thought of himself to be tattooed with imperfections. As he stared down at Y/N’s sleeping body, he couldn’t help the guilt that wrapped around him like a torture blanket. To him, she was perfect. She was kind and beautiful, she carried her heart out on her sleeve and overcame her past to grow in spite of painful trauma.

What he didn’t know, though, was that she thought the same of him. She thought of him as the most capable person, strong and kind. Her heart yearned for him in ways no one could comprehend.

She thought of him as everything but instead of embracing it, he’d pushed her away… and now both of them had to suffer the consequences.

—

Harry had stayed the night, but he hadn‘t slept; he‘d spent the night lying on Y/N‘s uncomfortable couch with various thoughts swirling around in his head. At eight he‘d stood up, started preparing breakfast and wasted time looking through social media to distract himself from the girl sleeping in the next room.

Y/N slipped out thirty minutes later, surprised when she saw Harry moving through her kitchen as though he knew it like the back of his hand. She coughed, not knowing where to put her arms and folding them in instead.

“Hi, sweetheart,” he tried to smile, “I hope you’re hungry, I made you a bagel with eggs if that’s okay.”

“That’s… yeah,” she swallowed a lump in her throat, stepping close to the counter, “thank you. You didn’t have to.”

“My pleasure. You—“ he pointed at the side of her face, “you have something there.”

“Oh, I—“ Harry reached forward to swipe at it, wiping his finger clean on his trousers and stroking her cheek once for good measure. “Thanks. Probably toothpaste.”

“Probably.”

Silence decorated their next few seconds, awkward glances and uncomfortable tension felt down to the bones. Then Harry straightened up and breathed in, simultaneously Y/N opened her mouth.

“I—“

“Are you— oh, sorry.”

“No, you go on,” she urged, waving a dismissive hand at him.

Harry smiled, “are you okay?”

“Uh, yes. Yeah, I am actually. Bit of a headache but that‘s expected. Thanks for…picking me up, I guess. I didn‘t want to be a burden, but I kind of told Andrew about you and he got a hold of my phone…“

Harry’s eyebrows drew together, “no, I’m glad he called. You should always reach out to me when you’re in trouble.”

“Yeah, but last time didn’t go over very well, so…”

Harry cleared his throat. “Right, I’m sorry about that. I was out of line, but that doesn‘t mean I don‘t want you to call when you need help getting home. There’s nothing more important than your safety, Y/N.”

“Yeah, but…” Y/N shook her head, overwhelming thoughts swirling endlessly inside rendering her speechless. There wasn’t anything she could say to efficiently express these concerns to him— Y/N had always been bad at communication and the last thing she wanted was to poke the bear even more.

“No go on, tell me.”

“I just… I don’t know. I felt like shit after last time.”

“I know,” he breathed out lowly, “I know you did, and I’m sorry. I didn‘t mean it.”

“But clearly you did if you felt the need to say it. I mean, it doesn’t just come out of nowhere, those accusations. You felt them. And I was thinking about it all day yesterday and… you were probably right, we are too unprofessional.”

“No, sweetheart. I enjoy our dinner sessions and I appreciate that you feel comfortable to talk to me when something bothers you—“ It didn’t matter, though. There was nothing he could say to change her mind.

The words that left her mouth were mostly involuntary. They were a protective barrier, a reason to say no, back off and a clear indication that she had no capacity for this. And although it hurt somewhere deep within her chest to express them, to become a viscous reminder of last night, especially when Harry’s eyebrows drew together in deep regret, it needed to be said.

“Harry, I meant it when I quit last night.”

A reasonable response was lost on Harry. For a moment he needed to think, to gather his thoughts— not that there were very many. He had to admit, he’d hoped they would gloss over her drunken text and pretend as though it hadn’t been. He’d hoped that Y/N felt a small spark of embarrassment when she thought about it, that she looked back on it with regret. Alas, she didn’t.

“Oh.”

He pulled back, shoulders tensing when the gravity of her statement had pulled him down along with it.

“Yeah. I mean, I love working with Jamie, I do, but I—“ I’m scared that I’ll form an attachment I will never recover from. I’m scared of the proximity we share, of how sometimes you let your fingers brush over my thigh. I’m scared because I don’t know what you mean, scared because psychoanalyzing doesn’t work on you. Or maybe— maybe I’m scared of love. With you. Or with anyone. Maybe I’m not capable of being loved. And maybe I’m not even capable of loving and maybe— just maybe, this will be the end of me. And for what? For you to say that the affection you extend to me is customary? That I have a tainted perception of reality, of love? Because I know I do. I know I do, and yet hearing it from you would hurt much more. And so maybe… maybe in this case, finding out isn’t worth the hassle. You’ll probably find I’m not either.

There was so much to say and such little capacity to say it. All Y/N could think to do was sputter words she didn’t mean and hope he understood because the alternative was ridding herself of every. little string of dignity she still possessed and she simply couldn’t do that. She couldn’t allow herself to unfold in front of the only person who’s perception of her she wanted to nurture. No one had stayed. Even if he would come to leave, she wanted him to leave with a sound picture of her.

“But you…”

“I can’t.”

“You can’t… because of yesterday?”

“No. I mean, I guess that was a bit of an eye opener, but I—“ Y/N breathed in, “I think I’m getting too attached to you. You and Jamie.”

His eyes widened just a bit and he took a small step toward her. It was so small she hardly felt him entering her space. “I don’t mind that, Y/N, you don’t need to quit—“

“I do though,” she interrupted him, a stern undertone to her voice. She coughed and said again, “I mind.”

“I think you’re still angry about yesterday.”

She had to contain the urge to roll her eyes, “I’m not. This is separate from that.”

“So it’s the attachment that’s the problem?”

“Yes.”

Harry scoffed, “that’s ridiculous. There’s nothing wrong with attachment.”

“It depends on what kind, doesn’t it?”

“Enlighten me then.”

Y/N’s mouth closed. She couldn’t do that.

So she deflected.

“Harry, my contract says that as long as I stay long enough to find a fitting replacement—“

“Fuck the contract, Y/N,” the volume of his voice almost caused Y/N to flinch into herself, “I know what my contract says. What I don’t know is why you’re giving up a job that you love, a job that pays you well, for reasons you can’t even explain to me.”

“Is my resignation not enough for you? Would hearing my reasoning really change anything if I will keep insisting on resigning no matter how often you’ll advise me against it? I doubt it matters. I doubt you would even so much as give a shit, Harry."

Y/N shook her head, tears building in the ducts of her eyes. Her father had been of great emotional abuse, her mother had spent half of her life drinking herself to liver failure and her brother had moved to Madrid as soon as he’d turned eighteen, leaving Y/N to fend for herself in a household that contained not one ounce of love— and yet this felt worse. This felt like her heart was being ripped from her chest, dropped on the floor beating and bleeding.

“You think I don’t give a shit? Really?” Y/N couldn’t help rolling her eyes, huffing when he tapped her on the wrist, muttering with a steady furrow in his brow, “don’t roll your eyes at me.”

“You know why I’m quitting and yet you want to hear it come out of my mouth. I’m not going to do it.”

“I don’t know.”

She almost laughed, “sure”

“Sweetheart—“

“Don’t call me that.” She gave him a sharp glance before heading back to her bedroom, arms falling to the sides of her timid frame. Harry stopped her just short of the door, a steady hand gripping around her wrist. She couldn’t help the gasp that left her mouth, built up tears finally streaming down in heaps— embarrassment brewed in her stomach and she couldn’t bare to look him in the eye anymore. Harry’s touch elicited a spark on her skin, blistering with uncomfortable heat. “What?”

“You’re being rude. I really think you should consider this.”

“There’s nothing to consider, okay?!  I… I feel too much for you, there’s too— there’s too much, okay? There’s too fucking mu—“

What would transpire between them next was a kiss. Initiated by Harry.

It was barely a kiss, more of a brushing of the lips— tentative movements, gentle breaths. It was the minimum and yet it was more than enough. There was an electric feeling that dragged through Y/N’s entire body as she closed her eyes and let herself feel. Harry didn’t seem very much like a gentle lover— generous, without doubt, but Y/N had always pictured him as a pin-to-the-wall, bite-to-the-lip type of man and she quickly received confirmation when he began squeezing her hand as if feeling restrained.

Y/N hadn’t kissed many people; less than five, probably, but she could say with certainty that this was already better than all of the other ones combined. She knew why. She knew the reason was that she genuinely liked Harry, that he made her feel things she’d never felt before.

But then again, Harry was her boss. He was off limits, taboo. And he was absolutely out of his mind right now.

“Wait.”

His breath fanned against her chin. “You don’t want me to?”

“No I do, I just—“ she shook her head, thoughts in a disarray like they’d never been before.

“Tell me to stop and I will.”

Her mouth opened but nothing came out, merely staggered breaths as she tried to regain the ability to think. The interruption came when Harry’s phone rang on the counter.

He groaned, took a glance at the screen and broke away when he saw his mother’s name flash as the caller ID.

“Yes?” He called into the speaker, frustration molding his features as he kept on listening. “Yes, okay, tell him I’m on my way. Give me twenty minutes… Love you too, bye.” When he turned to her, phone slipped into his back pocket, she could tell that he yearned to say more, that he yearned for her to say more. She knew he would halt his actions, leave time for her to get her words out before he left for whatever emergency he’d been called in for, that if she only said something he would consider putting her as a second priority after his son. She knew that he would make her feel important. But she said nothing. And nobody, not even the most patient person in the world could work with nothing. “Jamie’s asking for me. I need to go get him.”

She only nodded.

He sighed, running a tired hand down his face. “Alright. I need to go. I’ll see you around, Y/N.”

She stood at exactly the same spot as Harry slammed the door shut, unwavering.

Her heart was still pounding as the words she should’ve expressed minutes ago died on her lips.

—

Résumés had been sent to him, interviews were lined up, and Y/N had received no reply back. She hadn’t received anything, really, just a text on Thursday that he would arrange for another babysitter to come in for Jamie while he left for his late meeting, to which Y/N had typed a dry ‘ok’ and left it to sit in her inbox.

The week had started fresh and Y/N had finally left home again (only to her classes, but still). After days of not working, she was scheduled to pick up Jamie at two thirty and hoped for these last weeks to resume seamlessly. She’d gotten the car from the house, locked the door back up again and made the ten minute drive down— everything was fine.

Until now. Until Y/N set foot on preschool grounds and noticed another woman hugging her arms around Jamie’s shoulders. She seemed unfamiliar at first— glasses tipped back on her long blonde hair, a pencil skirt concealing her toned legs. Y/N had no idea who she was dealing with until she took a closer look and recognized this woman to be Stacie. Y/N had seen a picture of Stacie up in Harry’s study— she seemed to have changed a little, but the structural features she associated with her still remained intact through all these years (big blue eyes, defined cheekbones).

As soon as Jamie’s eyes set on Y/N, though, Stacie’s hands were torn away from his shoulders as he ran for her. She got on her knees, his familiar smile melting away all of the cold spots she’d developed in over a week of not seeing him.

“I miss you!” Jamie pulled away to plant a kiss right on the top of the apple of Y/N’s cheek, something he only started doing recently. She guessed he’d only really learned how to. “Daddy said you pick me up today.”

“I missed you too, buddy. I see somebody else came to see you?”

“Oh, Stacie. She wants to take me home but daddy said you pick me up.”

“Yeah, okay. Do you want to wait a second while I talk to her?”

Jamie nodded, moving to stand next to her (small hand clutched in hers, of course) while Y/N greeted Stacie. Well, greet was a bit of an exaggeration; she didn’t get to before Stacie decided to introduce herself first.

“I’m his mom, I called Harry in the morning telling him I’d come for pick up. I have a packed schedule, so I’d appreciate it if you could let go of my child.”

Y/N almost laughed, the audacity of this woman a damn near mystery to her. “Wait. Don't talk about him like some sort of property. Harry never told me about anyone else coming to pick up Jamie.”

“He must’ve forgotten. He’s a busy man, I’m sure he would confirm—“

“Well then let’s call him, shall we?”

Stacie wanted to interject, she could tell, but Y/N had dialed way too fast for that to happen. The phone only had to ring once before Harry picked up, his voice coming in clear.

“Hey, you‘ve got Jamie?”

“I’m here at preschool but Stacie showed up before me and wants to take him home. You didn’t tell me, so I…” she trailed off, hoping he’d fill in the blanks.

It seemed to take a minute to click. “Stacie? His mother showed up at school?”

“Yes, was this arranged beforehand or…”

“No. No, don’t let her take him home. Shit, we talked about this last week, I don’t—“

“You… you talked about this last week?” The confusion dripped from Y/N’s voice and all she could hear was Harry’s attempt at concealing profanities. “What did you talk about last week?”

“It doesn’t matter. Just get home, tell her to call me to clear this up. I don’t want Jamie knowing Stacie is his mother yet, okay? So just get out of there before she tells him herself.”

A frown settled over Y/N’s features before she continued to end the call, scoop Jamie up into her arms and walk away after quick word. Stacie protested, but both her and Y/N knew she wouldn’t do much more than that in fear of causing a scene.

Y/N failed to pay attention to Jamie as she fastened the belt on his seat, only registering when she looked back into the rearview mirror and noticed the little pout starting to pull at his small lips.

And when he finally asked her, little quips of fear polishing his quiet tone:  “is Stacie my mum?”, all Y/N could do was pretend she hadn’t heard and hope he would forget, knowing he wouldn’t.

—

Y/N bombarded Harry with questions the second he‘d unlocked that front door.

“Y/N—“

“No, I’m entitled to know this time. I’m entitled to know when she ambushes us at preschool. Don’t you want me to know what I’m dealing with if it happens again? That woman almost fucking kidnapped him—“

“Calm down, Y/N. Sit down and I’ll explain it to you.”

She huffed in annoyance, listening nonetheless. She set herself down on one of the kitchen stools and tried to take control of her breathing. She watched as he took a seat opposite her.

“Stacie came to visit last week on Wednesday. She’d called beforehand, asking if it would be okay. She came and we had dinner, we talked some things out while Jamie was in bed. She apologized, asked if we could start working things out again. I agreed under the condition that she would approach the idea of Jamie as a friend first. She said that she would respect my wishes and that she wouldn’t come near him unless I gave my permission. That’s it. So far all Jamie knows is that she’s a friend of mine. I didn’t—god,” Y/N felt bad when Harry buried his head in his hands, itching to reach out in comfort. She chose to play it safe, settling a gentle touch over his thigh. “I know I should’ve known but it seemed real when we spoke last, you know? I didn’t think she’d do this.”

Y/N hadn’t seen Harry this distraught over anything. “I’m sorry. That’s heavy.”

“It’s—“ he sighed, “it’s something I keep having to deal with. All she wants is to have him on the weekends, have him pose as her cute son. But she doesn’t actually care about him.”

Y/N couldn’t do much more than nod. She was caught between playing the comforting role and being honest. She wasn’t sure if this was the place, if her opinion would be welcomed or if it would contribute to Harry’s sorrows. “She seemed… uncooperative when I spoke to her at school. Like she was in a rush or something, it scared me.”

“Yeah, she’s hardheaded.”

“Right.” Y/N pulled her hand away when Harry lifted his head, clearing her throat and averting her eyes. The change in her behavior didn’t go unnoticed, though he knew he shouldn’t ask. “So when you talked… when you agreed to working things out, you meant that in a friendly manner? Or were you going to be… a couple again?”

“We… I don’t know. We kissed— well, she kissed me a few days ago when we met up again for a playdate with Jamie. Never discussed it any further.”

“Do you love her?”

Y/N had begun to hold her breath in, but she didn’t notice it.

Harry did. He noticed the suction of a deep breath and he noticed how his own hands got clammy with sweat.

Harry looked skeptical, as though there was something on his tongue ready to peek out tentatively, only it couldn’t because he had to spare her feelings. Because there was little Y/N, intimidated by everything she’d ever had to face in her lifetime— little Y/N who had rejected him and still expected loyalty. Little Y/N who couldn’t have him, but had always wanted to.

“I think a part of me will always love her. I mean, she gave me Jamie and he’s… the best thing to ever happen to me, really. I love him, and I will always love her for giving birth to him. I will always love her for the good parts of our relationship.”

Y/N hated herself for hating his answer. It was a perfectly reasonable answer, truthful as Y/N expected, yet her mind wandered past the barriers, past the barbed wire. She couldn’t fully grasp how he could still love her— and yet she understood perfectly. There was Jamie, of course, but there were many other things. There was her hair, her bright complexion, the beautiful curve of her hips and the effortless look of her makeup. There was the fashion, the business-casual look that seemed to mesh so well with Harry’s. There was this calling when Y/N pictured the two of them standing side by side, almost like they were destined to be together. She could imagine it perfectly, the many years they had spent together. She could see it. And it looked perfect.

Y/N coughed, head nodding along to his words as if she were listening to instructions and not some heartfelt confession. It seemed instinctual, though.

When it came time for her to speak, she let a smile mold her lips into a perfect crescent moon. She never thought faking a smile could hurt more than a physical injury, but she’d been proven wrong. Everything looked intact— Y/N was sure she almost seemed unaffected from the outside. She wasn’t, though, and she wondered if Harry would recognize that.

“That’s… yeah. I get that.”

This was the first time Y/N actually felt the age gap between her and Harry. He sat here, ready to air it out. He spoke about his concerns, about the state of his son, and the only thing she could fret about was herself. Her sadness had no weight, it was too insignificant in comparison to his and it made her feel pathetic. It made her feel young and stupid and pathetic.

Harry deserved better than this. He deserved careful consideration, security for his child. He deserved trust and honesty, a sort of transparency Y/N couldn’t afford to offer to him yet.

“That’s not to say that I want to approach her in that way, especially after today, but…” he trailed off, only finding his words when it’d clicked that she wasn’t responding, “I just want you to understand that it’s complicated.”

Y/N nodded. Then she cleared her throat, ready to rid herself of this spotlight. She always messed up in the spotlight.  “Um, Jamie asked me if Stacie was his mum today. I didn’t answer, but you might want to think about what you’ll say to say to him next time. I also sent you a few résumés, I’ve talked to a few people and have set up interviews, the first one is scheduled for tomorrow—“ she visibly flinched when his hand came down on her thigh, “please, Harry. I can’t. Please just let me finish this.”

“Okay.”

A deep breath, “it’s scheduled for tomorrow after you come home from work. Do you want me to come on the call, or are you okay interviewing yourself?”

“I’d like you to come.”

“Okay. I’ll stay longer tomorrow.”

“Can we talk about us now? Properly?”

“There’s nothing to talk about.”

Harry almost laughed, “there’s a lot to talk about. We just added on a good bit today.”

“I’m quitting. That’s it.”

“You know, I don’t understand why you insist that there’s nothing going on—“

“Because there isn’t,” she snapped. “There isn’t. I’m going to check up on Jamie.”

She was teary-eyed as she slipped from the stool, ready to conceal it all for the ball of sunshine sitting in the living room. She could do it all for Jamie— she would do it all.

Before he could say any more, Y/N disappeared behind the door. Harry could hear the two of them converse in the next room and his heart felt heavy as the gravity of the situation dawned on him. Harry had always known what to do— he was a CEO, for god’s sake. He was trained to find solutions, take control of seemingly unfixable problems, to make life easy. And yet, this girl thoroughly baffled him. He had no idea what the fuck to do anymore.

And yet, he was determined to keep trying.

—

Two people had interviewed over zoom and Harry had hated every one of them. His excuses were vague, something about the lack of experience (even though they both knew that Y/N hadn’t had any when she’d started either) and the supposed ‘wrong vibe’. One time he’d criticized a woman for her ‘ridiculously shrill voice’, at which point Y/N had rolled her eyes and proceeded to walk home in a fury.

The next day Y/N showed up again, ready to interview three more people. She sat beside Harry as he set up the video call and listened as he asked questions. Y/N was mostly in attendance to listen and give her honest feedback by the end (she really did want to find someone spectacular for Jamie), so the difficult part came later. For now she could be quiet.

This woman, aside from qualified, seemed very kind. So far, it’d been the best candidate.

“So how flexible is time for you?”

“Very. I do online classes for uni, so I can very well manage my time how I see fit.”

“That sounds fine. And you’ve had plenty of experience, I see.”

“Yes, I started babysitting when I was fourteen, so for more than ten years now. The last family I worked for just moved out of the country, which is why I’m looking for something new, but I was with them three years.”  

This woman had nothing but good evidence she would be the best for the job; no doubt better than Y/N. She had the experience, she seemed mature, she looked kind— she would act in a professional manner, something Y/N had never quite figured out yet.

That didn’t matter to Harry, though, because as soon as she’d gotten off the call, he muttered a ‘no’.

“Why not?” Y/N asked, bewildered by his blunt response, “she was literally perfect for the job.”

Harry lifted his shoulders in a shrug, busying himself with his laptop, “just didn’t feel right.”

“Okay, this is just getting too unreasonable at this point. You didn’t like the lack of experience, fine, that one woman’s shrill voice, fine— but this? She just didn’t feel right?”

“I don’t expect you to understand—“

“No. We’re not doing that.”

“It’s a feeling, Y/N. When I interviewed you, I got the feeling that it’s right, that I’d feel safe leaving Jamie with you. It takes trust.”

“But she’s— she’s so qualified, she—“

“Experience isn’t everything. It’s important, but not everything. You weren’t experienced when you came for your interview but you gave me the right feeling. Thus you were qualified for the job.”

And she understood, really, but it still fucking pissed her off. “That’s fucking— you’re being too picky.”

“For good reason.”

“At least two of the people we interviewed were qualified enough for a test run.”

“We still have about fifteen to go and there’s no rush.”

Y/N found this ridiculous. She muttered under her breath, pushing some hair back with a sweaty palm.

“Why is it that everything I do makes you angry?”

“Because you’re fucking infuriating.”

He breathed a chuckle, “that’s nice,” and closed his laptop. “Are you hungry?”

“No.”

“Don’t lie to me. I’ll make your favorite pasta.”

“I don’t—“ but Harry had already gotten to work, tuning her voice out without much trouble. He smiled at her, almost mocking.

“Do you have another job lined up?“

“Uh,” Y/N didn’t want to admit no, that she hadn’t even begun looking properly (save for that one café down the street from her apartment), knowing the consequences and aware of the tiring reprimanding from Harry ahead. A pitied glance. A pathetic speech. “I’ve applied.”

“Where?”

“A cafe.”

“Where?”

“You wouldn’t know it.”

“Are you hired?”

She huffed, “no.”

“Where else?”

“Um, a… another café. It’s in... near my apartment.”

“Would be bad if it wasn’t,” he quipped, paying her a shortened glance from over his cooking pot. “Do you need help?”

“No.”

“Financial help, maybe?”

Y/N groaned, “no.”

“Because I wouldn’t mind sending you some money—“

“Harry,” she cut him off in an instant, glaring daggers at him, “I’ll just send it back. I’ve saved up enough to get by for a few weeks.“

“That doesn’t exactly ease my—“

“Can we just— can we not?”

And they didn’t. Harry closed his mouth— forced it closed, actually— having to clench his jaw to stop himself from voicing unwanted thoughts.  Y/N looked away, pretending this conversation hadn’t happened at all. It was easier that way, to pretend he hadn’t conveyed such an open and honest display of care, to pretend that it hadn’t ripped her heart to shreds.

There was so much he wanted to say, but he couldn't. It was the first time in a while that Y/N stayed (somewhat voluntarily) after her shift, and he couldn't risk pushing her away further.

For now, he had to be okay with this.

—

Y/N couldn‘t keep her eyes off of Harry, images of last night flashing in between conflicting thoughts.

She was in bed. She was clutching her blanket, a wet spot and the outline of her body marked by sweat on the sheets. He‘d looked so real fucking her, he‘d sounded so genuine whispering into her ear as he thrust up into her cunt.

He‘d called her a good girl, and she‘d run with it, afraid to look back.

But it hadn‘t been real, had it?

It‘d been a dream. But god, was it a good one.

Would he do it all the same? Would be hold her close, spreading his fingers over the expanse of her breast as he kissed her neck? Would he glide them up, and wrap them around her throat? Would he— fuck. No. She couldn’t.

But he would. And they‘d look so pretty resting there. And she‘d feel so pretty as he overwhelmed her with his presence, his chest pressing against hers. He‘d look so right as he danced along the fine line of praise and degradation— the line of rough and sweet, cold and warm. Because he would know. He would know exactly what she would need.

Wouldn‘t he?

He would. As she watched him move through the space of his living room, she knew he would. She‘d always known, really.

And Jamie wasn’t here anymore, he’d fled up the stairs. And Y/N really, really shouldn’t be here with him alone.

She was biting on her nails, eyes cast downwards in avoidance as Harry read his book on the other end of the couch. He had an arm stretched along the back of the couch and her legs were tucked to her chest as she scrolled on her phone, trying her hardest not to let her gaze run wild. It proved especially difficult when his arm fell mere inches from her legs. And when he touched her, warm thumb rubbing comforting circles into the cold of her skin, she couldn’t help biting her lip.

“You okay?”

“Hm? Yes. Why?”

A smile stretched his mouth wide, “just seem distracted, is all. Squirmy.”

“What? No, I’m fine.”

God, she was feeling small under his gaze.

“You sure?”

“Yes,” she mumbled. Harry saw her eyes, though, tired dark circles resting where they don’t belong. He saw how they widened, how desperate they seemed for something she didn’t want to disclose to him and he wanted so badly to satisfy that need for her. “I should go home.”

His grip tightened ever so slightly. “Would you like me to drive you?”

“Um, no. It’s okay. Thank you.”

But she failed to move.

Y/N had shut him out for so long that the effect he’d always had on her multiplied by ten. It was much much worse and the finger on her leg burned through her skin with ease.

“Sweetheart?”

“Hm?”

“Come here,” he demanded softly, watching as a war unfolded on her face. He could read her like a book, sensing the exact moment her heart won and her head gave up. He pulled her to him, fingers dancing up and down her shoulder. “You seem tired.”

Y/N cleared her throat, tips of fingers holding onto the edge of safety and threatening to let her cascade into the depths of danger. “I had three classes in the morning and I’ve been writing this paper, so—“ she allowed him control as he made her face the other way, legs outstretched, her back just inches from his chest and his hands massaging her tense shoulders. Her eyes closed in pleasure at the sensation. “And last night, I—“

“Last night you what?”

“I had… I had this dream and—“

She didn’t want to finish and he didn’t need her to.

“Is this okay?”

His voice felt soft and comfortable against her neck. “Yes, thank you. You’re good at that.”

He hummed.

“I really should go home though,” she mumbled, getting quieter with each word. She knew she wouldn’t dare push him away now, but she supposed it was more about convincing herself that she’d tried. “Cause I have classes early in the morning.”

“It’s only seven.”

“Yeah.”

Harry snickered quietly, her awful try at resistance not surprising him in the least. He had never seen her quite like this though, weak and smitten in his arms, on the verge of purring like a cat.  He definitely couldn’t complain when she inched closer and dropped her head so it could rest comfortably on his shoulder. 

“Can you do my arms?”

“Of course, baby.”

She could’ve melted. In fact, she probably had without noticing.  

And when she felt his lips pressing to her skin… well, then it was game over.

“Is this okay?”

She nodded promptly, heart racing.

Y/N was tired of rejecting this feeling, tired of pretending as though she didn’t want Harry’s affection. Because truly, it was all she wanted, all she’d longed for.

A love like his would feel so great.

“You look really beautiful, you know that?”

“Thank you,” she squeaked, sensing Harry’s chuckle rolling against her back at the response.

“I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you.”

“Me neither.”

“You’re the one who keeps running.”

“I know.”

“Why?”

Y/N took her time answering, grateful when Harry didn’t rush her. He would sit here waiting for an hour if he needed to, she was confident in that. There was no hurry, just soft hands on scalps and warm kisses on necks— Y/N hadn’t experienced such an overwhelming feeling of comfort in the arms of a man.

“I’m scared to stay.”

He sounded unfazed, giving her a surge of confidence when he asked, “why?”

“Because we’re such different people. You’re a dad, a very accomplished ceo. I’m a student, so much younger—“

“Don’t make me out to be so old, love.”

Her eyes rolled. “A little younger than you. And last week when I saw Stacie, I don’t know… it did something with my brain, I guess. You seemed so right together, you know? I didn’t want you to wake up one day and regret anything, don’t think I could bear that.”

“Look at me,” he muttered, tilting her head so that he could pin her down with a stern stare, “I couldn’t regret you, sweetheart. I regret much in life, but I wouldn’t regret you.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Eh, I’m a pretty good judge of character.”

“Harry,” she warned, “I’m not the most lovable person once you get to know me.”

“I doubt that,” he retorted.

“Past experiences have proven as much.”

He gave gentle strokes to her cheek, a glaze he didn‘t expect overcoming her eyes, pulling him in, “so let me show you.”

Y/N’s breath hitched, his nose mere inches away from hers. “Show me what?”

“How easy it is to love you.”

Time stood still, but it couldn’t not have with a statement of that kind. It seemed so easy for him to brush off concerns as something undeserving of thought, to create an allusion of simplicity where it didn‘t belong. Those words meant everything to her.

“You must know how wonderful that sounds coming from your mouth.”

Harry breathed a chuckle, nose nudging against hers softly. When he asked for permission, Y/N couldn’t deny him of another kiss.

And if it could’ve gotten any better than their first kiss, then it definitely had. There was a newfound sense of freedom and security with this kiss, unspoken thoughts reduced to small details rather than what had been when they’d spent time together last.

When they parted, nothing needed to be said. They already knew it all.

—

A month later.

“Y/N, will you hand me another bowl for the soup, please?”

As Y/N fulfilled Harry’s plea, she couldn’t help but let her giddiness dictate her movements. Things were fresh, things were good— but they were also scary. He was scary. Anxious butterflies spread in her lower tummy at the mention of his name and infested it with the low sound of his voice.

She waited by his side as he tidied up, ready to be of assistance. It was pathetic, really, how awfully smitten she’d become for him.

“Thank you, sweetheart.”

She hummed in reply, scared that if she were to speak all that would come out was a squeak. Harry chuckled, smirk molding into his cheekbones as he grasped Y/N by the waist and pushed his lips against hers in a gentle kiss. His hand slid lower, giving her a squeeze.

“Are you nervous?”

“Yeah.”

“It’ll be great, I promise. And whatever he says, we’ll work it out.”

“Okay,” a surge of confidence rode her to sunny dry shores, shoulders sacking in comfort, “yeah, okay. I trust you.”

“You ready then?”

“Yes.”

Things proceeded as they always had; Y/N and Jamie shared funny anecdotes of their day as Harry mostly listened, admiring the two of them with love filling his eyes. It wasn’t until desert had come that the setting changed, unbeknownst to Jamie, and Harry took the lead.

“Jamie, we want to talk to you about something.”

Jamie stared between the two of them, waiting.

“Do you remember when you came home from school and told me about Katie and Josh? That they’re boyfriend girlfriend?”

“Yes, they still are.”

Harry chuckled, “and do you remember what I said when you asked if I had a girlfriend?”

“You said that you don’t.”

“I did. And while that may have been true for that moment, things have changed.”

Her heart melted and sank all the same when his little green eyes lit up, “do you have a girlfriend now?”

“I do,” Harry laughed, “you know her.”

“Who?”

Harry smirked, motioning to Y/N with a nod of his head to draw Jamie’s attention away. Jamie’s gaze landed on Y/N and in the matter of a second it filled with excitement. His mouth dropped open in surprise.

“Are you okay with that?” She asked, timid at first but becoming more confident when a genuine smile imprinted small dimples in his cheeks, a feature he’d been lucky enough to receive from his father.

He nodded, full of movement, and hummed in confirmation.

When Y/N and Harry had put Jamie into bed later that night, and had vacated to the kitchen to enjoy a glass of wine together, things finally fell into place. The thought of happiness within a relationship was no longer a distant one— no, it had become a reality. Harry had kept up with his promise, he had shown her easy, he’d shown her effortless, and while there was no doubt in her mind that hard times were still to come, she was confident that no matter the circumstance, her gratitude for his open portrayal of love could never be put into question.

“I love you,” she shared, eyes glassy, head tilted. “You don’t have to say it back, but I just want you to know. I think I’ve loved you for quite some time, I just didn’t want to realize it.”

The silence was short lived.

He placed his glass back down on the table and smiled, though to her it almost looked awkward. “Wow.”

“I know, you don’t have to… cause I know it’s a big deal, so you don’t have to say anything.”

“I do too,” he then offered, hand traveling to rest on her knee. “I love you.”

“Really?”

“I do.”

This stumped her.

And now it was her turn: “wow.”

Harry’s laughter spread everywhere on Y/N’s skin, engraving itself into her soul and staying there to be kept and remembered forever.

“Good. Now that that’s cleared…”

She couldn’t deny him of a passionate make-out session, hands on thighs and lips everywhere they fit, everywhere they felt right. A moan slipped from her mouth, his smirk molded into her hot skin.

“Move in with me,” he muttered, dirty against her mouth, “we’re finding a new nanny for Jamie and you don’t have a new job planned yet. Just focus on university, move in with me, with us. Let me take care of you.“

“Harry—“ his mouth collided against her neck, her eyes closed shut, “I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”

“Why?”

“We’ve only been together—“

“Doesn’t matter, I’ve fought for a long time to have you. I believe in us, I trust this.”

“I…“ Y/N felt torn— on one hand, she really wanted to move in with him. On the other, was that really wise? To move in with a man after a month of dating him? Albeit this was Harry, and she trusted him too. Fully. It was herself she didn’t trust. “Are you sure?”

And when she looked into his eyes, there was no not one ounce of doubt in them. They welcomed her.

“Jamie would love it just as much as me.”

“Would he?”

“Are you kidding me? He loves you so much.”

“I love him too,” she played with a strand of his hair.

“Then move in with us.”

A smile began to pull at her lips. “But I pay for groceries.”

“No,” he mumbled, “you’re too broke for me to let you do that.”

“Harry!”

“It’s true!” He laughed, massaging her thigh. “Baby, I don’t expect you to pay for anything living here. I’m more than capable—“

“I know you’re capable, but I just… I was taught not to burden other people.”

“You’re not burdening me,” he insisted, finger sliding under her chin, “it’s okay to let other people do things for you. It’s okay for others to show their love.”

“I know that.”

“So please don’t worry about it. Focus on your studies and make me proud in that way.”

“I need to make money somehow.”

“No you don’t. I’ll support you.”

“No,” she breathed right away, “I won’t depend on you for money. You’re not my… my sugar daddy.”

“Why not?” He grinned, “you call me daddy either way—“

Y/N’s eyes rolled, “shut up.”

“Told you not to roll your eyes at me.”

“Sorry.”

Harry hummed, “try it for a month. If you want to move in after, you can. If you don’t, I’ll help you find a new place. Or I’ll pay your rent while you’re here so you don’t lose out on money.”

Comfortable silence dictated the next few seconds as Y/N thought about her boyfriend’s offer, and then: “fine. We’ll try it for a month.”

Harry’s smile widened, “yeah?”

“Yes.”

“You won’t regret it."

He'd been right.

--

The end! Would love to hear your feedback :) but also like… don’t be too harsh cause I can’t handle it

tags:

@tpwk-mia @gem1712 @behindmygreyeyes, @sinarainbows @infixinfinity @adkmermaid2399 @daphnesutton @imaginexxharry @bry211 @haliastyles @watarmelon212 @impossibleme @cali-888 @dreamybabbyy @evie-119 @cumuluscranium @c-a-b3002 @buckybarnessimpp @freckles-things @harryedwardstylesluva24 @ihavesimpedovermanyfictionalmen @angelbunny222 @ivegotthecinema @harryscowgirl

I hope I didn’t forget anyone!

[giannan04]

Can you please do a part two to the Jungwon one shot you wrote!🩷

Ask and you shall receive! A few people asked me to make a part two to my Jungwon X F! Reader one shot (https://www.tumblr.com/giannan04/760529750415589376/i-neeeed-panty-fucking-with-jungwon-ill-love) and I was thinking of writing a part two, I just didn’t know how much people would like the first part! I’m so thankful for everyone who supports my writing!🫶🏻

⬇️Part one is listed here ⬇️

Pairing: Best-friend’s brother Jungwon x F! Reader

Genre:Slight bad boy x good girl trope, smut. Best-friends brother

Warnings: SMUT! Cursing (F word is thrown around a lot), God’s name said in vain like twice (I’m a Christian 😭) choking, p in v, cream-pie!, unprotected sex (WRAP IT UP Y’ALL), oral sex (f! Receiving), choking, that’s about all I can think of.

MINORS, DO NOT INTERACT!🔞

You were always the perky cheerleader, dedicated to your academics and looking forward to college—just like your best friend, Niki. Everyone thought you two would end up together, especially since you were the head cheerleader and he was the quarterback of the football team. Jungwon, Niki's older brother, never let you forget that. He teased you constantly for being a “goody-goody”, for being just like Niki. But Jungwon was different. He was the bad boy who didn’t care about school, dropped out early because he was next in line to inherit their parents' pharmaceutical company (it would’ve been Niki, but he wanted to be a doctor), and spent his time smoking, drinking & partying, and bringing a string of different girls home every week—-much to the annoyance of Niki and his parents. Deep down, you always knew Jungwon wasn’t good for you, but something about him drew you in, even if you couldn’t stand his teasing, low-key flirting.

——-

It had been hours since Jungwon fucked you (and your panties), leaving you breathless and wanting more. The heat of his touch still lingered on your skin, making it hard to focus on anything else. You couldn’t stop thinking about the text he had sent when you finished earlier, the one that made your heart race: ‘See you in my room later. I’ll make sure you cum this time ;)’

You were now in the living room, curled up next to Niki, trying to concentrate on the latest season of ‘Attack on Titan’ but your mind kept drifting back to Jungwon. The way he had touched you, the way he spoke to and took control of your body with such ease—it was all too distracting. Niki, blissfully unaware, sat beside you with his eyes glued to the screen, excited to binge-watch your favorite anime. Every time you even thought about slipping away to Jungwon’s room, Niki would either start the next episode or ask, “Where are you going?” and “Why do you keep getting up?” trapping you in place.

Your phone buzzed again. You glanced down to see a picture of Jungwon’s hand gripping his hard-on. His dick was pressed against his boxer-briefs, begging to be freed. You squirmed on the couch, desperate to get up and leave the living room, but every time you did that, Niki would play the next episode. ‘I’m waiting for you’, the text read. Heat rushed through your body and your stomach fluttered, your body itching to get up and leave, but Niki kept chattering about the show, keeping you in the conversation. You could barely focus. All you could think about was how badly you wanted to be in Jungwon’s room.

Another text came in not long after. ‘Wtf are you doing?’ Jungwon's frustration was obvious, and you quickly typed back: ‘I’m trying to get away from Niki, but it’s hard!’

Minutes ticked by agonizingly slow, feeling like house until finally, Niki groaned, clutching his stomach. “Shit, I shouldn’t have ate so many snacks” he groaned, wincing. He stood up and headed toward the bathroom. “I’m gonna be in there for a while,” he added dramatically, and you watched as he dashed down the hallway.

This was your chance.

Without a second thought, you rushed to Jungwon’s room. The moment you slipped inside, you found him undressed, his lean frame illuminated by the dim light. He turned to you, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Took you long enough,” he drawled, eyes raking over your body. “Strip.” He ran his tongue over his lips in anticipation.

You hesitated, suddenly shy, your hands trembling slightly as you stood by the door. ‘Why am I so nervous?’ you thought. ‘It’s not like we haven’t done this earlier… but still…’ Your mind raced. ‘What if he doesn’t like what he sees?’ You couldn’t shake the insecurity that crept in as you stood there, feeling his eyes on you. You couldn’t believe that you acted all impatient earlier just to be nervous in front of him.

Jungwon raised an eyebrow, clearly sensing your hesitation. “What’s the holdup? I already fucked you earlier,” he said, his voice low and teasing, as he smirked at you.

“It’s different this time,” you muttered, tugging at the hem of your pajama shirt. “Before, it was quick… and I still had my cheer uniform on. Now it’s…”

Jungwon rolled his eyes and shrugged his shoulders, clearly unimpressed by your nerves. “It’s not a big deal. Get undressed.” He palmed his erection with impatience.

Your fingers fumbled with the waistband of your pants before you finally managed to strip. You stood before him, feeling exposed and vulnerable, your arms crossed over your stomach and chest. ‘Is he really going to like my body?’ The thought kept looping in your mind, but you pushed it aside, trying to focus on the moment. Jungwon’s gaze softened just slightly as he approached you, his eyes trailing up and down your body. He reached out, his fingertips tracing the curve of your waist. “You’re beautiful,” he murmured, his voice softer than usual.

“Thanks,” you replied shyly, avoiding his intense gaze.

Jungwon didn’t waste any more time. He picked you up effortlessly, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist as he carried you to the bed; you wrapped your arms around his broad shoulders. He laid you down gently, pressing his lips to yours in a deep kiss. Yet, as his hands roamed your body, he paused, sensing your hesitation. He pulled back, his forehead resting against yours. “What’s wrong now?” he asked, his tone sharp with impatience. “I already told you, you look good.”

You bit your lip, trying to find the right words. “I told you… this is different.”

Jungwon let out an annoyed sigh, running a hand through his hair. “Please stop overthinking it,” he muttered. “Just let me get to work. I wanna make you feel good.” You blushed. You wanted Jungwon. Badly. You knew he was right, you were doing too much overthinking about everything. “Okay.” Jungwon smirked at your response. He lowered back down and began kissing your stomach.

He trailed kisses down your stomach, his lips brushing against your skin as he moved lower. When he reached your core, he didn’t hesitate. He immediately flattened his tongue against your wet pussy lips. Jungwon’s tongue began to explore you, teasing and tasting, making your body writhe with pleasure. His touch was both demanding and tender as he focused on your clit, swirling his tongue and applying pressure. The sensation was almost too much, and you moaned, your hands gripping the sheets. “Oh my fucking God Jungwon. It feels so good.” You moaned louder, your fingers twisting in Jungwon’s hair as you pushed his face deeper inside you.

"Good girl," Jungwon murmured against you, his voice vibrating through your body. "You love this, don't you?" He picked his lips, using them to suck your clit gently.

The pleasure built quickly, and despite your exhaustion from earlier, your body responded eagerly. “Jungwon…I-I’m so close.” Jungwon’s skillful movements drove you to the edge, as he moved his tongue faster, and you cried out as you came, your body trembling under his experienced touch.

Once he was satisfied with your reaction, Jungwon shifted positions, his hands gripping your hips as he entered you from behind in a rough, commanding thrust, the sounds of your wet cunt filling the air. His dick plus the feeling of leftover cum from your last orgasm filled you with so much pleasure. The raw intensity of his movements made you gasp, each thrust hitting deep, relentless and powerful. "You’re so fucking tight," he growled, his breath hot against your ear. "Already came, and you’re still so perfect for me." Hearing him praise you while he fucked you so good left you craving for more. “Oh my god.”

His pace was unforgiving, his hips pounding into you with each stroke. You could feel his balls slapping against your pussy from behind. “I’m going to make sure you feel every inch," he groaned, pushing you further, your body arching and grinding back against him. His movements were punishing, but the pleasure was undeniable, making you cry out with each forceful thrust. “Yes, Won, you fuck me so good!”

Jungwon’s grip tightened on your hips as he felt his own release approaching. "I’m gonna fill you the fuck up," he groaned, his thrusts becoming erratic and frantic. With a final, deep thrust, he came inside you, his body shuddering with the intensity of his orgasm. The warmth of his cum filled you, and he stayed buried inside, panting heavily. The warm cum and his thick cock felt so good inside you, you didn’t even want him to move.

Afterward, Jungwon carefully pulled out, his eyes still intense as he grabbed a warm cloth, which he already had waiting on his dresser. He began to clean you up and you felt the care in his touch. "You did so well," he said, his voice a mix of praise and control. "Such a good girl, taking everything I gave you." You’re murmured softly, that was all you could do. You were laying there spent, made a mess by Jungwon.

He leaned down, pressing soft kisses to your inner thighs as he continued to clean you. "Look at you, all wrecked and perfect," he whispered softly, a teasing edge still present in his voice. "Can’t even move after all that."

He helped you into his arms, covering you with a blanket and pulling you close. His touch was soothing as he rubbed your back, but there was still that familiar sharpness in his tone. "Don’t get too comfortable," he warned with a smirk. "Next time, I won’t be so easy on you."

He pressed gentle kisses to your forehead, his hands lingering on your body in a caring way despite his earlier harshness. "You did great," he whispered, his voice softening. "You’re amazing." You really did like Jungwon. Besides how good he made you feel sexually, you could feel how much he cared for you. And he made you feel good about yourself. But you couldn’t help but wonder if Jungwon saw more in you than just sex.

As you lay there, deep in thought, Jungwon noticed the distant look in your eyes. "What’s on your mind?" he asked, brushing a strand of hair from your face.

You hesitated, feeling a blush creep across your cheeks. "I was just wondering… what does this mean for us? Are we… official, or am I just… your fuck buddy?" You bit your lip nervously and played with your fingers, unable to meet his gaze.

Jungwon rolled his eyes, a smile tugging at his lips as he pulled you closer. "What do you think? You’re my girl," he said confidently, leaning in to kiss you deeply. Before you could respond, he continued, "I’ve always wanted you. It drove me crazy that your little “good-girl” self was too occupied with school and your friendship with Niki to see that."

He looked into your eyes, waiting for your response. "Do you feel the same, despite what you’ve heard about me? I know Niki told you I’m not good enough for you”

You nodded, kissing him back with equal intensity, holding him close. "I do," you whispered, your voice filled with sincerity.

Just then, Niki barged into the room. "I knew you guys were fucking!” he exclaimed, giving you both a stern look. "Seriously? I couldn’t even take a shit in peace without hearing everything! And you’re supposed to be my company, Y/N!”

The tension in the air was thick as Niki stared at you, in the same bed as his older brother. You laughed awkwardly, attempting to break the tension. “Um, I’ll be right back down, Niki.”

Niki huffed, rolling his eyes. “So, are you guys like “a thing” now?”

Jungwon smirked mischievously at his younger brother. “Damn right.” He leaned down and kissed you, not caring that Niki was watching. Niki wrinkled his nose in disgust. “Gross”, he said, turning towards the door.

Before he left the room, he looked over his shoulder, directly at Jungwon. “Just make sure you treat her right. I don’t play about Y/n.”

Jungwon held you even tighter, his face nuzzled in your neck. “No shit. I’ll treat her like a princess.”

You couldn’t stop the cheesy smile that tugged at your lips. You knew Niki wanted the best for you, but you had no doubt in your mind that Jungwon was good for you.

——

A/N: Y’all, Jungwon is a DOM and I will die on this hill!😭🫶🏻

[justagalwhowrites]

So this may be awkward but I saw your dbf fic and thought what about best friend's dad? Obviously it would either have to be a no outbreak au where Sarah is in her 20s or several years after the show when Ellie is an adult. Maybe the oc is a few years older than Ellie or Sarah or whichever you choose. Maybe I just haven't read enough TLOU smut but this is one I haven't seen and I would love to read something like this!

OMG Hi bestie!

So THANK YOU FOR BEING PATIENT WITH THIS??? You sent this in FOREVER ago but I've been so hung up on Lavender and Beskar Doll I just didn't get around to this.

Anyway, HERE'S THE ASK FINALLY! I hope you like it!

UPDATE A/N: This is now a full series (has been for a while but I just realized I never linked to the master list from here.) If you'd like to read more, you can find it here.

New in Town

When you move to Austin for work, your best friend Sarah recommends that you hang out with her dad, Joel, to get to know the area. Sarah just never mentioned the fact that her dad is just your type.

Pairing: BFD!Joel Miller x Female Reader

Warnings: SMUT! Fingering, oral (male receiving), protected P in V sex. Legal age gap (Reader is 35 Joel is 47.) No use of Y/N. Minors DNI 18+ only

Length: 5.6k (wtf is my problem)

You should have made Sarah text you a picture at the very least. 

The bar was starting to get busy and you’d realized about 15 minutes earlier that you had no fucking clue what your best friend’s dad looked like. 

“You’re sure it’s not weird that I hang out with your dad?” You asked Sarah the morning you left town. 

“It’s not weird,” she waved you off, her curls bouncing. “Promise. He’s not like… an old dad. He’s fun. You get along with me so you’ll get along with him. It’s at least something so you’re not stuck in Austin not knowing anybody.” 

“Yeah,” you nodded and then sighed, looking at your coffee. One last cup of the good stuff in Seattle before your flight in a few hours. 

There was a knot in your stomach at the thought of leaving, now that it was actually here. You’d been in Seattle for two years now after moving here for work. Sarah was the only other woman in your department - not to mention the only other person under 40. She might have been 10 years younger than you but the two of you had become fast friends. She’d been there for a year - she’d started fresh out of college - when you came aboard and was kind enough to let you in on the office politics. 

“So fucking glad to have another girl around here,” she said after you’d been there about two weeks, her arm looped through yours as you walked to a restaurant down the street from your office for lunch. “Lunch just isn’t as good with old dudes…” 

Making friends outside of the office was just as awkward as you remembered and it wasn’t long before you and Sarah were hanging out all the time outside of work, too. She was probably going to be the thing you missed most about Seattle. 

But the promise of a big promotion - setting up your own team at the new branch of your firm in Austin - was too good to pass up. 

“Hey,” she put her hand on your wrist from across the small table. “You’re going to kill it down there. Just remember to demand me when the time comes to add a junior copywriter.” 

“Well, simply no one else will do,” you smiled a little. She laughed. 

You finished your coffee and Sarah dropped you off at the airport - your office paying to ship all your things down - and you flew off to your new life in Texas. 

After a week of settling in, you finally caved and reached out to Sarah’s dad. She told you to just text him and you kind of hoped he wouldn’t respond. Once the ball was in his court, you’d be off the hook. If he never responded and you never met the guy, Sarah could hardly hold it against you. 

“Hi! Is this Joel Miller?” You texted originally, following it up with your name and - just in case Sarah hadn’t bothered to tell him you were going to be texting - some indication that you weren’t a total stranger. “I just moved to town and Sarah told me to text you.” 

“There,” you said to yourself, taking a sip of wine as you sat back on your couch. “Done. Not my problem any….” 

Your phone lit up on your coffee table and you groaned. Of course he texted back. Of course he texted back fucking immediately. 

“Hi,” he said. “Sarah mentioned you might text. Said you might need someone to show you around town. Want to grab a drink later this week?” 

You rapped your fingers against the globe of your glass, the wine lush and red. 

“Sure,” you said. “I don’t start work until next week, so just let me know when and where works for you and I’ll be there!” 

You made plans to meet up two days later. You’d showed up a few minutes early, wanting to get the lay of the land before you met a stranger in a bar. 

Joel, it seemed, was a bit late. You kept looking up at the door, waiting to see someone who looked something like Sarah walk in. But so far, there wasn’t anyone who fit the bill. A few guys who looked like they were UT students deciding to check out something further from campus, four guys who who definitely had just gotten off motorcycles, one man who was almost stupid hot and looked about 10 years too young to be Sarah’s dad and a guy about your age with a date. 

You glanced at your phone. 9:13. At what point did you call it? Maybe try to pick up the hot guy who seemed to be hovering on his own at the bar. You hadn’t gotten laid in a while and you’d at least done your hair and makeup, even if you hadn’t tried to look like you were looking for a hookup. 

Your phone screen hadn’t fully dimmed yet when it lit up bright, vibrating with Joel’s name on the caller ID. You sighed and answered. 

“Hello?” You pressed your free hand against your ear, trying to drown out the sound of the bar behind you, but it sounded noisy on his end, too. 

“Hi,” he said, a bit of a Texas twang in his voice. “Just wanted to make sure you were still plannin’ on comin’ out tonight…” 

“Yeah,” you laughed a little. “I was wondering the same about you, I’m here…” 

“Where?” He said. “Don’t see you…” 

You started looking around then, too, looking at every face at every table around you before you settled on… the stupid hot guy at the bar. 

Who looked too young to have a kid Sarah’s age. 

Who had a phone pressed to his ear. 

Who was now staring at you. 

You raised a hand and smiled awkwardly, giving him a small wave. 

He looked surprised for a moment before hanging up his phone, grabbing his beer from the bar, and heading for your table. 

“I’m so sorry,” he said, setting his drink down across from you and taking his seat. “I didn’t mean to keep you waitin’, I was just expecting someone Sarah’s age…” His eyes went wide for a second. “Not that you look old or anythin’, just… Not what I was expecting.” 

“Yeah, Sarah was the baby of the Seattle office,” you smiled a little. “She’s the best though. Thank God for her, I’d have been so bored there without her.” 

“Yeah,” he smiled and nodded. “She is the best.” 

Up close, Joel was still stupid hot. Uncomfortably hot. It was not fair how hot he was for him to be off limits because he was your best friend’s dad. His hair was dark and a little shaggy and you had to fight the urge to brush an unruly curl back from his brow. His eyes were the warmest brown with a light to them that made you want to just stare at him for a while. His crooked smile with one dimple, his slightly patchy beard, his unreasonably sculpted arms for a man who had to have at least a decade on you unless he was a teenager when Sarah was born. If you hadn’t met him this way, you’d be trying to get him home for at least a one night stand. But he was your best friend’s dad. Even if he made your core tighten and heat pool around your hips. 

It turned out, you and Joel had more in common than you’d expected. You liked the same music and he knew some good live music spots in town. You were both into hiking - and both agreed that the views in this part of the country would be kind of lacking compared to the Pacific Northwest. You both liked trying to find the spiciest food in town and eating it as a matter of principle. 

Of course, you hadn’t spent much time with men the age you THOUGHT Joel was going to be. Your only experience with men in their 50s was at work and that usually involved showing them how to save a word document as a PDF. You’d gone into this expecting to sit awkwardly with the guy for about an hour before going your separate ways. But you were pretty sure he was in his mid 40s, the same age as a lot of the guys you’d gone out with back in Seattle, and the more drinks you had the harder it was to remember that you weren’t on a date. You were hanging out with your best friend’s dad. She probably had to beg him to meet up with you, he probably had a girlfriend he’d much rather be spending time with on a Friday night instead of his daughter’s friend who was new in town. 

But he seemed happy enough to stay for hours. The two of you were laughing over a particularly bad movie you’d somehow both seen - Giant Spider Invasion - when the bar announced last call. 

“Shit,” Joel looked at his watch, clamping his hand over it after a second. “Didn’t realize how late it got. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to take up your whole damn night…” 

“No, I’m sorry,” you waved him off, reaching for your phone for the first time in hours to try and order an Uber. “I’m sure you’ve got better things to do than entertain me.” 

“Not exactly,” he half smiled at you. That fucking dimple. “Don’t really got a thirvin’ social life. I get the feeling this arrangement was as much for me as it was you, knowin’ Sarah.” 

“She’s cunning, that one,” you said, putting in your destination address. You groaned. “Shit!”

“What?” Joel asked. 

“Surge pricing,” you sighed. “Come ON, it’s almost 2 a.m., it can’t be that busy…” 

“It’s homecomin’ weekend at the school,” he shrugged. “Everyone’s in town drinking.” 

“That’ll do it,” you sighed, bracing yourself to spend almost $100 on a car ride home. 

“I can give you a ride,” he said. You looked up from your phone, frowning. “I’m good to drive.”

“I don’t want to put you out,” you said, about to push the button anyway. 

“You’re not,” he said. “Trust me.” 

*** 

Joel was very nearly in over his head with you. 

Every part of him was practically screaming “mistake, mistake, mistake, you are a big fucking mistake!” 

You were Sarah’s best friend. 

You were more than a decade younger than him. 

You were starting a new job and a new life and he really shouldn’t be trying to date someone he’d just hold back. 

YOU WERE SARAH’S BEST FRIEND. 

But none of that seemed to matter. He was damn near ready to kiss whatever asshole at Uber came up with surge pricing. He’d never been happier for an excuse to give someone a ride home. 

It had been years - at least - since he’d felt like this about anyone. He’d known you for hours, no time at all, but it felt like years. Like he could say anything to you and you’d understand it. You were obviously smart, so fucking smart. After talking about movies with you for five minutes he was half convinced you saw an entirely different movie than he had, talking about allegories and symbolism and holding onto little lines he wasn’t sure anyone else would notice or think about twice. He wanted to see if you’d let him get to know you that way, if you’d have any interest in trying to know him that way. Fuck, he wanted to know you.

It didn’t help that he’d spotted you the second he was in the bar, absently turning your glass in your fingers, looking at one of the University of Texas themed Bud Light posters on the wall like you were examining it, your eyebrows drawn together, your mind clearly somewhere else entirely. You were fucking gorgeous. Gorgeous in a way that it was a problem, it was distracting, it made him not want to think about or look at or consider anything else. It took conscious effort to not stare at you. When he hadn’t known who you were, he’d been praying Sarah’s friend would stand him up so he could go talk to you. Fuck, he wanted to talk to you. 

And then you answered the phone. 

And you were Sarah’s best friend. 

Fuck.

“You settlin’ in OK and all?” He asked after you gave him your address and he programmed it into Google Maps. 

“Mostly,” you nodded. “It’d be better if I could actually get a maintenance guy to come out to my place but…” 

Joel frowned. 

“What’s goin’ on?” 

“The garbage disposal has a hell of a leak,” you sighed. “I don’t know shit about plumbing so I’m afraid to try to fix it on my own. And the ceiling fan in my bedroom seems like it’s trying break out from its drywall prison whenever I turn it on so that’s been pretty useless. Maintenance keeps saying they’ll come by but they never do. I don’t think I’ll stay in that place longer than a year, this is what I get for apartment hunting from across the country.” 

“I could look at it for you,” Joel shrugged before he was smart enough to stop himself. 

“No,” you laughed and shook your head. “You’ve done enough for me as it is, I cannot ask you…” 

“You didn’t ask, I offered,” he said. “I’m a contractor, my area of expertise is fixin’ shit shoddy builders fucked up. You have plans tomorrow? I can come by, take a look.” 

Stupid. Stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid. That’s what he was. Fucking stupid. 

“Tomorrow would be great, actually,” you said. “I’m just about unpacked but I have a whole box of under the sink kitchen stuff that’s still sitting on my table and driving me insane. But you’re sure I’m not putting you out? I swear, it’s nothing that urgent, I just need to light a fire under management’s ass…” 

“Not puttin’ me out,” he smiled a little at the idea of that. Fuck, you were doing him a favor, giving him an excuse to see you again. 

Stupid. 

Stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid STUPID. 

SARAH’S. BEST. FRIEND. 

“Early afternoon OK?” He asked. “Unless you gotta be somewhere…” 

“Yeah, so far my vibrant social life here includes you and the barista down the street who now knows I prefer my lattes skim,” you laughed. “I’ll be around, come over whenever works for you. I hugely appreciate it, you have no idea.” 

He watched you go into your apartment when he dropped you off, a townhouse that had definitely been built in the last five years. He sighed and shook his head. Shoddy fucking craftsmanship, things breaking that fast. He’d help you find a decent place when your lease was up. 

As a friend. 

Because he could be friends with you. That would be fine. Encouraged by his meddling but well-meaning daughter who’d arranged this to begin with. Friends help friends apartment hunt. He could be your friend. 

He fucked his hand before he passed out, trying to think of anything besides grabbing you and kissing you at the bar as he did. 

“Hey Dad! How’d it go last night?” 

His eyes were still bleary as he read the text from his daughter the next morning. 

“Hey Baby Girl,” he wrote back, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. How was it already 10 a.m.? How was Sarah a morning person? She sure as shit didn’t get that from him. “Went fine. Your friend seems nice.” 

She wrote back immediately. 

“She’s the BEST. Seriously. Give her like 5 minutes and she’s going to show you the best food in town, she always found the coolest restaurants up here, places no one else from the office even knew existed.” 

Joel smiled a little at that. He’d heard a lot about you over the last few years, now that he thought about it. He wasn’t big on social media so he only ever saw pictures Sarah texted him - usually a selfie in front of some tourist attraction as she stuck her tongue out at him - so he’d never had a face to put to the stories. But you’d become an integral part of her life in Seattle. 

You’d started as a “cool new coworker.” Then you got a name. And then you just became a “we.” “We went to this awesome new restaurant.” “We checked out this concert last night.” “We decided to go up the Space Needle because screw it, why not be a tourist in your own city sometimes?” He never needed to ask who she meant, he knew she was talking about you. 

He just hadn’t known it was you. 

Which was another reason this was stupid. He could not even consider doing something with you, even just in his head, not when you were that close with his daughter. 

“You guys going to hang out again?” She asked. “I think you’d be friends!” 

Joel ground his teeth for a second. 

“Don’t need you to find me friends just because Uncle Tommy got married.” 

Sarah replied right away. 

“Well if you did it yourself maybe I wouldn’t,” she said. “And she needs friends, too. Plus this is really all for my benefit, if she can swing me coming to the new Austin office and y’all are friends, we can all just hang out together. Way easier to coordinate my schedule.” 

Joel laughed a little. 

“Going to help her with something at her apartment today,” he sent back. “We’ll see if she wants me around after that.” 

Joel managed to keep from going to your house the second he was dressed. This wasn’t a problem he’d had since he was a fucking teenager, obsessed with some girl from his bio class. He was looking at his watch every five minutes, hoping it was reasonable to leave his house and go to yours. 

He called it at 11:45. He figured he’d bring you lunch. You said you liked spicy food - the spicier the better - and if your garbage disposal was leaking, chances are you couldn’t cook much. You’d need to eat something. It was the polite thing to do, he reasoned. 

Joel went to his favorite taco truck and got a little bit of almost everything. It was way too much food for two people but fuck it, he didn’t care. As long as it was something you’d like, he really didn’t give a shit. 

You were in some kind of matching not quite sweatsuit when you opened the door, the tan fabric looking so fucking soft. 

“Hey!” You smiled broadly, like him coming over made your day. You looked at your phone screen. “Damn you really mean early afternoon don’t you?” 

He glanced at his watch. 12:23. 

“Figured you could use some lunch,” he held up the takeout bag. “Didn’t think you were able to cook much, disposal outta commission…” 

“Are you really bringing me food when you came over to do me a favor?” You asked, brows raised. He shrugged. “They weren’t kidding about that whole southern gentleman thing, were they?” 

“Gotta give you pretty things some reason to put up with us,” he smiled a little. You smiled back and held the door open for him. 

Your place was sparsely decorated but comfortable and it looked like you were just about unpacked. Joel set the bag of tacos on the small table off your kitchen and you staked your claim to the spiciest one. 

“If it’s too hot for you, no shame in tappin’ out,” he teased, unwrapping his own taco. 

“I eat men with low spice tolerance for breakfast,” you waved him off. “This’ll be cake.” 

You took a bite and chewed for a second before your eyes went wide. Joel tried not to laugh at you. 

“Holy shit,” you held a hand in front of your full mouth as you spoke, your eyes watering. “That’s so hot! How the fuck…” 

“Yeah, you northerners don’t know what you’re dealin’ with,” Joel smirked. “Welcome to the big leagues.” 

“Oh, it’s on now, Miller,” you said, wincing a little. “I’ve got this, you have no idea…” 

He laughed but you finished the taco, eyes watering and face sweating, the whole way. 

“Alright, think you’ve earned some handyman work,” he smiled a little. You chugged water, somehow managing to look good as you did. “Kitchen sink right?” 

“Yeah,” you nodded. “Run the water for longer than 30 seconds and it leaks like crazy…” 

He did as you said, opening the cabinet below. You had a pot inside to catch any stray water. He turned the faucet on and after less than a minute, water was gushing out from the pipe leading down to the disposal. He shut it off. 

“Good news is, it ain’t the disposal itself,” he said, putting his tools down beside the cabinet. “Looks like they just replaced it and did a shit job setting it up…” 

He got down on the ground, lying down so his upper body was in the cabinet just as you came and perched on the counter nearby, watching him closely. 

“Let me know what I can do to help,” you said. “I feel bad, you coming over, bringing me food, fixing my shit…” 

“Don’t,” he said, frowning up at the plumbing. “Got me outta my house… can you hand me the wrench that’s in the lower part of the tool kit, the adjustable one?” 

He heard you slide off the counter to the floor and rifle through his tools before handing him the wrench, your fingertips brushing his when you did. His heart sped up. Fuck this was stupid. 

You settled in on the floor near him, near enough that he’d feel your leg brush his when he adjusted while he worked. You asked him about his favorite band and he asked you about yours. About favorite foods. About the one place on Earth you’d go if money and time were no object. 

“Alright, think I’ve got it,” he said. “Do me a favor, turn the water on…” 

“You sure?” You asked, a frown in your voice. “Don’t you want to sit up first?” 

“I’m confident,” he smiled a little. 

“Alright, turning it on now.” 

And his confidence was correct. 

For a minute. 

And then it was like the floodgates opened and Joel was suddenly soaked. 

“Cut it!” 

You scrambled to obey as he got out from under the sink, dripping wet, shirt soaked. 

“Shit,” he looked down at himself. 

“I am so sorry!” Your hands were over your mouth, eyes wide. “One minute, let me grab you a towel…” 

You ran down the hall and came back with a small pile of towels handing them to him one by one. He started with himself and then put towels down below the sink. 

“I’m so sorry, Joel,” your eyes were so wide and earnest. 

“Not your fault,” he said, getting up, feeling like more than a bit of an idiot. “Your maintenance people just fucked something up big time…” 

“I have a washer and dryer,” you said quickly. “Let me wash that for you…” 

“Thanks,” he said and he peeled off the wet shirt and handed it to you. “Appreciate it…” 

He was so busy trying not to look at you that he hadn’t realized that you were staring at him, looking up him slowly, your lower lip in your teeth. Like you were interested in him, too. Like you were trying to keep your hands to yourself, too. 

Your eyes met his. This was stupid, this was very very stupid. You were standing close to him, so fucking close to him. 

“Joel,” you breathed. 

He was kissing you before he could talk himself out of it. 

*** 

You weren’t sure if he kissed you or you kissed him but you didn’t really care because fuck, he was touching you. Your arms went around his neck and his hands went to your hips, pulling your body flush against his as he all but devoured you. 

Like he’d done nothing but think of this since the night before, too. 

You were up for an hour after you got home, cursing your best friend for having such a hot dad and trying to not think about what would have happened if you’d dragged him into your apartment when he dropped you off as you ran your vibrator over your needy clit. 

Because how could you face Sarah if you’d fucked yourself to the thought of her dad? 

But you weren’t worrying about that now. 

Instead, you were leading Joel blindly through your apartment, to your bedroom. Your fingers tangled in his hair - wet from the explosive leak in your sink - as you kissed him. You pulled him against you as you sat back on your bed, crawling back toward the middle of it and tugging him along with you so he was hovering over you. 

“You sure…” he began but you nodded so fast that he didn’t even finish asking, just smiling for a second before kissing you again. 

His tongue was insistent inside your mouth, like he was trying to reach every part of you, but you liked it. The hot, aching need gathering in you liked it, liked that he was demanding and hungry for you to the point that, when his tongue slid back behind his own teeth it’s because he wanted to bite your lip with a growl. 

You squirmed out of the soft wrap that was covering your arms and he pulled at your tank top, peeling it away from you and leaving you in just your lacy bralette you liked to wear before you really got dressed for the day. His hand cupped your breast, palm brushing your firm nipple, and you moaned. Joel slipped his hand into the lace and touched the bare skin below and you involuntarily thrust your hips up toward him. He smiled against your mouth at that. 

“So eager,” he said, teasing. 

“We both have way too much on,” you panted against him. 

“Let me help you with that,” he slid his fingers below the band of the bralette and tugged it up and over your head, leaving you naked from the waist up. “Jesus Christ…” 

“What?” You asked, breathless. 

“And I thought you were gorgeous before,” his eyes went over you slowly, tracing the edges of you. “Fucking hell…” 

You smiled and arched into kissing him again, fumbling with the button and zipper on his jeans as you did. When you got his pants open, you slipped your hand inside his underwear, finding his thick, hard cock and stroking him. It was gentle at first, getting a feel for him and fuck he was hard as steel below your touch. He was also easily the biggest cock you’d ever held, so thick and long you knew you were going to be feeling him for hours after you were done. 

Not that you minded. You wanted nothing more than to walk around with a reminder of him inside you for a while. 

Joel’s hands ran over you until he reached your pants and underwear. He pulled them off together, pausing just before your panties would be so far down that they would expose your dripping, aching slit. He pulled his lips from you. 

“This really what you want?�� He asked quietly, his eyes searching yours. 

“I’ve been wanting this since last night,” you smiled a little at him. 

“Fuck, I was hopin’ you’d say that.” 

He pulled what remained of your clothes off and cast it aside, nudging you down so you were flat on the bed. He ran his finger over your slit, dipping into you just enough to make your entrance try to grip him but not enough that it gave your body something to hold. You moaned. 

“Don’t worry, beautiful,” he pressed his finger against your clit, rubbing in circles, making you moan. “Gonna take real good care of you…” 

He trailed his finger back down and sank it into you as his thumb pressed against your clit, making your body go tight around him. You rocked your hips against him and arched your back and you heard the smile in his voice as your hands flew to your comforter, knotting in the fabric there. 

“There you go,” he said softly, kissing over your jaw to your throat, nipping and sucking you as he went. “Fuck you’re tight, need you to relax and come for me so I can get inside you…” 

He added another finger, hooking them up into you, pressing into your inner walls and making you get tense and tight before you came hard around him, pussy throbbing so hard it almost hurt. 

“You’re gonna feel so goddamn good,” he groaned as he slid his fingers from you. He hooked his thumbs into the waistband of his underwear and pulled them down with his jeans before he stroked himself, his fingers still slick with you as he did. 

“One sec,” you managed to find your voice and you stretched back to reach into your nightstand and grabbed a box of condoms. You needed to open it and pull one foil packet apart from the rest. “Sorry, haven’t needed one of these in a bit…” 

“Won’t hear me arguin’,” he half smiled at you. Fuck, that fucking dimple. You opened the condom and slid it on his tip, watching his chest heave as you did. You looked up at him through your eyelashes as you took his covered tip in your mouth, wrapping your lips around him and using them to unroll the condom the rest of the way onto his thick, hard length. “Fuck, beautiful, tryin’ to rush me through this?” 

You just sucked him for a moment, his head lodged at the back of your throat as you started to work his shaft with your mouth. His hand flew to your head, fingers twisting in your hair, as you went. He moaned as your tongue pressed against the underside of him before curling around his shaft. His grip on your hair tightened and you picked up the pace, all but choking yourself on his cock, not able to help yourself, until he pulled you back off him sharply, abruptly. 

“Really don’t want things to be over that fast,” he panted, tilting his head back toward the ceiling for a moment. “Fucking hell you’re good at that…” 

You smirked a little and he pushed you back down onto the bed before lining his cock up with your entrance. He paused and you moaned, rocking your hips against him, your whole body feeling like a spring that was coiled a bit too tight. His hands splayed wide over your thighs for a moment before sliding over your stomach, your breasts, back down again. 

“Still want this?” He asked, voice needy. 

“Want you,” you panted, nodding. “Need you, need you inside me…” 

“Good,” he said, his large hands spread on your thighs, holding you open for him, watching where he was entering you as his cock split you open. He moaned, panting for breath. “Fuck, gonna be addicted to you, just fuckin’ know it…” 

You pressed your hips up into him as he filled you totally, collapsing onto you as his hips met yours. He stilled in you, giving you a moment to adjust to the delicious stretch of him inside you. He was big enough that - if you hadn’t been so desperate for him, if he hadn’t already made you come once - you were sure that it would feel like he was breaking you in two. Like this, though, it was all pleasure with a hint of pain, just enough to make you feel so fucking full you thought you might burst with it. 

He started slowly but forcefully, dragging his cock back so only his head was inside you, his pace so slow that you felt his head on every ridge inside you. But he thrust himself back into you hard, like he couldn’t bear not feeling you again immediately, like being without you was almost painful. 

But he increased his pace, thrusting himself deep into you and pulling back before changing again, more rocking his hips down into you than fully thrusting into you. It meant he kept almost constant pressure on your clit, that the head of him was all but permanently against the spot inside that you immediately sought out whenever you used your vibrator. Your back arched into him and your pussy was so tight around him you were certain you couldn’t get any more wanting. 

“Fuck, need to feel you come while I’m inside you,” he managed, sliding his arms below you to press your bare chest against him. “Please, Beautiful, fuck, please come for me…” 

“Joel!” You cried out his name as you came around him and he fucked into you for another moment before you felt him throb inside as he spilled into the condom. 

He collapsed on top of you, panting for breath and you ran your hands over his broad back. After a minute, he kissed you gently and pulled himself from your wrung out body and lying beside you. 

“So,” he was still short of breath. “Got anythin’ around here I can come by and fix tomorrow?” 

You laughed a little, trying not to think of the fact that you’d just fucked your best friend’s dad. Trying not to think of the fact that there was no way this could be a one time thing. 

“Oh, I’m sure I can think of something,” you said. “I’m sure I can think of a lot of things.” 

[natailiatulls07]

Truth or Dare

Max Verstappen & female!driver!reader

Summary - Maybe it isn’t the best idea to do a redbull challenge right after a night out

Warning - Vomiting

Reader drives for redbull

-

"Good morning! I'm Y/n L/n and this is.." Gesturing to Max who was sat beside me to carry on.

"I'm Max Verstappen and we're here today to do the RedBull truth or dare challenge! Ladies first." I could see a cheeky smile making it's way onto his face. Reaching into the jar filled with truth or dare slips.

“Truth! Tell us how you feel about Max being your teammate” The smile growing on my face as I reminisced and thought through an answer. “Yeah I mean it’s great, we have a great bond between each other. I find that our bond is more older brother and younger sister so that is a definite help as it is my rookie year”

“Aww see that’s sweet…she won’t say anything sweet for the rest of this video now” we both laughed as Max was only speaking the truth.

“Right my turn now” Max reached into the bowl and pulled out a slip before reading over it. Unsatisfaction washing over his face. “Dare…show us your last text on your phone and then it’s says in brackets reasonable”

As he pulled out his phone, I sat beside him quietly laughing. “Let’s hope it’s nothing from Kelly…I don’t think I want to see that ew” My face held a familiar cheeky smile.

“So my last text was actually from Y/n!” I was surprised, but then I thought back to our text conversation from earlier, laughing lightly “I didn’t reply to this but Y/n sent me a text saying ‘hurry up, you’re late and I’m severely hung over’ as to which I cannot relate because I have a child to look after”

Looking down shamefully, everyone in the room was laughing including myself. It was true though, I went out clubbing last night and had yet to tell the crew. “Surprise!” Waving my hands in a jazz like manner.

Once again I moved my hand into the bowl after the laughing had died down. “Dare! Let the other teammate post one story to your instagram…”

Getting my phone out of my pocket, I handed it to Max who was excitedly waiting and plotting his story idea. After five minutes, my phone was headed back and that’s when I checked my instagram story.

yourusername has posted a story

Looking at the photo, I hadn’t realised that my friend had taken it. I couldn’t even remember throwing up, I was that drunk.

-

After a few more truths and dares, which also included many laughs, we had come to the end of the video.

“Thank you so much for watching us both expose ourselves and have a little fun” Max said towards the camera, before allowing myself to continue.

“Don’t forget to check out redbull’s other challenge videos, and we love you so much. Come on Max, say it with me!” Turning to look over at the older driver beside me.

“Byeee!”

“Bye everyone!”

Waving at the camera, whilst they started to cut the camera. Once we finished, both me and Max sat back before engaging into conversation.

“So what time did you get home last night?” Max asked, curiosity painted his face. Thinking back, I tried to recall exactly when my friend had said we returned home.

“Um I think about like two or three in the morning” At my answer, both me and Max were laughing at my crazy night out.

-

[fungifanart]

Thank You For Your Patronage

Characters: Male reader, Yuu!Reader, Leona Kingscholar

CW: Slight self-image issues, mild nudity (non-sexual), slightly suggestive at points, but mostly fluff

Word count: 1.5k

Notes: Wrote this for prompt #7 of @lemonchuu 's writing event for Leona's birthday! Enjoy!

------------------------------------------------

Leona has always had rather...mixed feelings about birthdays, his in particular.

On one hand, it was the one day of the year where everyone in the castle had no choice but to be nice to him, even if it was just an act.

However, they would also serve as a reminder of how he was getting older and was still no closer to being king. In fact, it seemed like the older he got, the farther and farther away he'd be from the throne, making his inadequacies more and more apparent in the mirror.

So, scratch his earlier assessment. Leona hates birthdays.

Or at least, he did before coming to Night Raven.

For his first few years, it was honestly just refreshing to be treated with respect by people who weren't being paid to, which made birthdays a bit more tolerable.

Not enough for him to actually look forward to them, mind you, but still tolerable.

But then, you came along and suddenly, everything seemed to shift ever so slightly.

The sun felt a bit warmer, his reflection felt a bit kinder and, if only a little, he found himself looking forward to his next birthday because it's the first one he'll get to spend with you by his side.

Now, with that in mind, would any of the Kings Of Old like to tell him why it's his birthday and you're suddenly nowhere to be found?

Despite having gone to sleep in his bed together, Leona hasn't seen hide nor hair of you from the moment he'd woken up to now, aka the middle of his party.

At first, he was annoyed that you aren't responding to his calls or texts, but now he's starting to get worried.

Did something happen to you?

However, this thought is dispelled upon being handed an envelope with your handwriting on it by Ruggie, prompting Leona to completely disregard the interviewer's words to inspect its contents.

"Dear Leona Kingscholar,

In celebration of your birthday, we've enclosed with this letter a voucher for our services at the Ramshackle Massage Parlor, which is open today only with the intent to serve you and you alone to our fullest capabilities.

We do so hope that you'll consider engaging us so that we may treat you like the million thaumarks that you are.

Yours truly,

Y/n of the RMP team."

Leona comes very close to bursting out laughing upon reading the letter, 'Of course that little shit would do something like this.' He thinks in a mix of fondness and exasperation, 'Well, I guess I HAVE been working pretty hard lately. I could use some real relaxation.'

After speeding through the rest of the interviewer's questions, Leona promptly makes his one good use of the Bloom Broom and flies out of the Savannaclaw lounge, effectively ending the party, making his way to the "Ramshackle Massage Parlor" as you're calling it for today.

Upon arriving and discarding the broom, Leona doesn't notice any significant changes to the outside of the building, so he knocks on the front door, finding it to have been left unlocked.

'He's lucky it's me coming in rather than someone looking to rob him.' Leona thinks to himself before fully opening the door and having his nostrils filled with the scent of lavender scented candles.

Walking into the lounge from the entryway, he finds it adorned with all manner of silks along the walls and ceiling, some of which could swear he's only seen at high-end stores, and then sees you, his darling boyfriend, wearing white scrubs and sitting at a reception desk where the couch once was.

"Welcome!" You greet him with a warm smile, "I take it you received our invitation?"

Leona chuckles lightly at the commitment to this little bit of yours, but goes along with it, "Yeah, I'll be using the voucher you sent me." He says while handing the piece of paper to you with a smirk, "And let me say this now that I can't be held accountable for what might happen if I don't receive the very best service, like you promised."

"Wonderful! I'll begin preparations right away!" You respond, completely brushing off Leona's, admittedly unserious, threat, "Oh, and before I forget: You should know that that voucher comes with a surprise gift as well! Close your eyes!"

Leona hesitates, but relents upon seeing the pleading look in your eyes and shuts his own tight. A few seconds later, he feels a pair of lips connect with his own, initiating a deep, loving kiss that lasts for several moments before you pull away and whisper "Happy birthday, my love."

Having received his surprise gift, Leona's eyes flutter open to see you with your regular customer service smile and doesn't hide the disappointment on his face as you take his hand and lead him towards the hallway, "The first door on your left is your changing room and the one beyond it is where you'll receive your massage. Go ahead and get changed and I'll knock on the door when everything's ready."

Doing as instructed, Leona takes off the stupid witch outfit he'd been provided and puts on the robe laid out on the bed, surprised by the quality and softness of the fabric, before hearing a knock on the door.

"Everything's ready when you are, Mr. Kingscholar." You say from behind the door.

Leona places his hand on the doorknob, but realizes now would be the perfect time to tease his boyfriend just a bit.

He opens the door, not moving immediately to give you time to take in the view before leaning against the frame and moving his right arm in a way that causes part of the robe to fall off his shoulder, "So, Herbivore. Are ya gonna tell me how ya managed to afford all this without my help?"

Your eyes widen and Leona hears you swallow at the display unfolding in front of you before you quickly turn your head away and clear your throat, "I-I can have connections too, y'know! I just had to pull a few favors and here we are."

Leona smirks mirthfully at seeing you so flustered and takes your chin in his hand to make you look at him, "Well, well. Didn't know my boyfriend was a regular businessman in the making. Shame on me for underestimatin' ya." He says while slowly drawing your face close enough to feel the heat radiating off of it.

"M-m-m-m-massage!!! It's time for your massage!!!" You stammer out as you wrench yourself from his grasp, fix his robe and lead him by the hand to the other room, "Feel free to disrobe and lay down whenever!"

Satisfied that he got to fluster you into breaking character, Leona takes off his robe and lays face-down on the bed, where he feels you quickly drape a towel over his behind.

"R-remember to relax." You say in a way that sounds like you're trying to convince both Leona and yourself, "It could put a strain on your muscles if I try to massage them while they're tense."

"Quit your yappin' and get to the massage, herbivore. We haven't got all day." Leona says curtly as he uses his tail to pat his back as a signal for you to get started.

"O-of course!" You say in a mild panic as you scramble to position yourself over Leona's body before rubbing oil on your hands and finally beginning to massage the muscles in his back.

He feels your hands start off shaky, but slowly relax as you make your away around his back, shoulders and arms. It's not the best massage he's had, being a prince and all, but he can tell you put a lot of effort into this, so he'll let you have it.

After you've massaged every corner of his upper body, Leona feels you work your way down to his hips and thighs, but he feels your touch become especially light over certain areas on them.

Wait...those are...

"You got some sorta issue with my stretch marks, herbi-" Leona begins to question before feeling your lips gently and lovingly make contact with the stretched skin, "W-whaddaya think your doin'??" He asks as he sits up, caught off-guard.

"I said that I'd treat you like the million thaumarks that you are, didn't I? And that means treating every part of you with the love and respect it deserves." You say, fully dropping the bit to lay your hand on his and talk to him genuinely, "And I know that you deserve all of it in the world and beyond."

...This is probably his karma for teasing you earlier, because now he's feeling his own face heating up at such genuine words of love.

"W-well, if that's really what ya want..." Leona awkwardly returns to his previous position to let you continue, causing you to let out a giggle.

"Hehe, of course it is. I'm gonna shower you with all the love in my heart!" You declare before placing a kiss on his cheek and resuming the massage with renewed gusto.

...Maybe Leona's birthdays won't be so bad from now on.

[heyidkyay]

And I'm petrified of being alone, now |

Part Seventeen

Matty Healy x reader

Summary: She’s just trying to get by, really. What with being a single parent to her four year old son whilst simultaneously trying to kick start a successful career as a radio presenter. She’s got everything she’s ever wanted though, friends close by, a mum who’s merely a phone call away, and of course her baby boy. What else is there to wish for? But then, it’s not long before her relatively normal life gets upended and turned on its head, and she’s suddenly forced to deal with situations she’s never even thought to imagine.

What happens when one mention of a certain controversial singer on her show sends a flood of unexpected challenges her way? 

Authors Note: Okay! Hi!:) Just have to say thank you for all the love you lot keep showing this series, it’s so mad and so very appreciated. Honestly makes me want to carry on writing. But I also wanted to add a quick warning to this update.. There is a lot going on, we finally get what we’ve been waiting for!! But there are other topics that also come into play. SO that being said please read the warnings below.

Warnings: Mentions of drug and alcohol abuse (past tense), as well as sobriety, also a previous death, bit gruesome but needed- this relates back to a conversation held between Matty and Jamie in Part Eight.

> Last update: look back here if you'd like!

Masterlist

She never did call.

Matty waited, and then waited some more. He fidgeted the rest of the day, smoked his way through a pack of fags when they’d been down at the studio, and then nursed a single pint after having allowed the guys to bully him into one of the local pubs.

It wasn’t until much later that night that he heard anything from her at all, and it hadn’t been a call, but instead a text.

Messages now Squeaks xx I listened to it 

He’d been cooped up in his office since the second he’d gotten home, looking through a couple of older demos and other sound clips in hopes that he’d find something that would fit with the current sound of their new album. George had been on his case about it all, claiming he’d been too spaced out as of late, so Matty had huffed but ultimately followed through.

Songbooks from years before were piled up high on his desk and on the floor, pages full of chords and scribbled lyrics cluttered the rest of the space, but he continued on, using it to distract him from the torturous wait.

When his phone finally did buzz, Matty had almost decided not to answer it, figuring that it would just be a message from Jamie, or maybe his mum. He was still waiting for that ring. But fuck was he glad that he’d taken a glance. Otherwise he might’ve missed it.

Are you busy?

The next text had come through almost a minute after the first, as though she’d been debating sending it. Matty frowned down at the screen, pushing away from his desk slightly.

She’d heard it.

She’d heard the demo. 

He didn’t quite know how to feel about that, or what to take from her clipped response. It was why he had essentially asked her to call him, because at least then he would’ve been able to somewhat determine what she’d thought about it, how she might’ve felt.

His tongue slid between the row of his front teeth in thought, staring down at the messages he’d received whilst his thumbs hovered over the keyboard looking for something to say.

Can you come over?

His fucking breath got caught in his throat just reading that, his tongue suddenly too big for his mouth. Matty didn't even think before he hastily answered her, worried she might take it all back.

Give me ten minutes.

He could do ten minutes. 

Fuck it. He’d fucking speedtail it out of here and try for five if it meant that she’d just let him in again. The last week had been painful enough, no need to fucking prolong it.

So that was what he did, throwing on the first pair of trainers he’d found in the hallway and grabbing at the car keys he’d tossed down on the counter months earlier. Forgetting about the album and the work he’d planned to do, along with whatever else that had seemed so important just a second ago.

She called and he would come running.

…

It was pissing down by the time he made it to her place.

Headlights on and ignition still running, Matty went to make his escape from the driver's seat, practically vibrating with the anticipation of it all. But he did momentarily pause to yank the keys from beneath the wheel before eventually scrabbling his way out of the sidedoor, feet immediately dropping into the murky puddle sat beneath. 

He’d parked like a fucking dickhead, halfway onto the curb and his boot sticking out into the empty street, but he could care less about it as he jogged around the front of the car and up the first few steps to her door.

There was blood rushing in his ears, filling up his head and making him dizzy with it all. He raised a fist to knock, practically bouncing on the balls of his feet. 

He’d gotten there in just under seven minutes. 

His heart was pounding like mad. 

He knocked. 

It was minutes or maybe seconds before he heard a slight scuffle on the other side. Before the hallway light turned on and peered through the painted window pane sat atop the familiar front door. 

The chain fell with a clang and Matty swallowed, watching on as the hinges creaked, revealing her face.

She stared up at him, standing in a pair of pyjamas he remembered seeing on a late night call of theirs, her hair all tied up in one of those pretty buns, soft curls escaping at the sides.

Her lips parted with her next breath, the sound of it jumped out at him and Matty couldn’t really hold back anymore. It had been six months. Six whole months. Almost to the day they’d met... Back when he’d been cocksure and arrogant. When he’d still been reeling from another stint in rehab, and from the stunt before the summer, and from Luke’s death.

Matty paused. 

He hadn’t really thought about Luke so easily. Not ever. Not since that night. Not in passing.

But she was currently staring back at him. Her eyes wide and tired. Shining in the light of the street lamps that crowded the street outside. 

Matty stepped forward, reaching for her. 

“Tell me to stop.” He muttered. 

She didn’t. 

And so his hand found the edge of her jaw, fingers nestling into a place at her hairline, skimming the tip of her ear.

“I can’t.” She answered him. Always so full of truth. 

And Matty, Matty was a selfish man. He’d been a selfish kid, too. A bratty teenager. A hellish son and an even worse boyfriend. Always so egotistical, so bold, so brazen. But even more so, selfish. 

He would take and take. And this moment was no different. He took.

Her mouth met his with an agonising fever, and there was an eager sigh that escaped in the breath shared between them that Matty couldn’t really determine if was his or hers.

She let him in so easily, let his tongue roam. She let him pull her close, let his hand find purchase on her hip and hear her moan. 

It was a whimper of a thing, a sound that was swallowed up by his mouth as he consumed her again. But it fuelled that fire within him, that heat which had been simmering so close to the surface of his skin for weeks, months now. 

“Mouse.” Matty said shakily, walking her backwards, further into the flat, where their feet shuffled over the hardwood floors. The door swung shut behind them and rattled in the silence before he was spinning and pressing her shoulders up against its cold wood. 

“Matty.” She breathed back to him, fingers catching on his neck, then his jaw, winding their way up into his hair. Tugging. 

A grunt escaped him and he pressed harder with it, teeth catching on her teeth, hands moulding into her skin. 

She tasted of something sweet, it coated the length of her tongue and melded well with the cigarette he’d lit on his way over. He wanted to taste more of it, found his nose pressing against the skin of her cheek in an attempt to do so. 

It was a second later that he felt himself rut up against her, accidentally mind, but the zip of his jeans tugged at the band of her bottoms and the movement made him realise he was hard. Had been half-way there from the moment she had texted him, but now, in her hallway, with her grinding up against him, and with those pretty little sounds she let slip, it was almost painful.

“Squeaks.” He managed to force out and she swallowed her own name right up, one arm wrapping around the length of his shoulders whilst the other tugged at the nape of his neck. 

Matty followed her demands effortlessly, a hand slipping under the hem of her shirt to feel at the warm skin hidden beneath, a calloused thumb brushing against the jut of her hip.

He explored, felt the edges of rigid flesh she kept hidden and out of sight, the freckles that lingered and dotted her torso, then wedged his knee between her legs. Hands grabbing at the backs of her thighs. 

One of her knees rode up higher on his side as he shifted even closer, letting her use him like a makeshift ladder to lift herself further up in the little space which stood between him and the door. 

He rutted again and the joint of her knee tightened by his hip, the heel of her foot digging into the back of his leg, forcing him even nearer. He grabbed at the swell of her arse, noting the way she arched into him at the touch. How her stomach tensed. 

It had just been pissing it down outside, he recalled belatedly, but her warmth in that moment seemed to dry up the remaining raindrops caught in his hair and along the shoulders of his coat. His fingertips pressed harder into her thighs at the thought, feeling the bottom of her shirt ride up higher between them upon catching on the zip of his jacket. 

She nipped at his lip, then his jaw, hands all but clawing at his neck and his back.

“Squeaks.” He tried again, brain hazy with want but needing to do this right. He had to do this right. “Squeaks.” Again he said, a plea within a shared breath between them, “Baby, please.”

She retreated all too quickly, letting him go with a sharp inhale. Lids heavy with avidity as she blinked back at him. 

Matty realised then that he’d had her pinned to the door, crowded against the wood and practically having lifted her up off of her feet. He swallowed thickly at the sight and willed his dick to calm the fuck down. But it had been way too fucking long. 

He was unhurried in the way he shifted beneath her before carefully letting her go, unwinding the leg he held at his hip before she slid slowly down his front. Feet hitting the cold wood floors with a soft thud.

He blinked and gone was that selfishness they had just shared, that immediate heat, and suddenly she was all wary, shy almost. Matty reached up to tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear, before he steeled himself and finally took a step back.

“You came.” She murmured after a breath, and had his mind been in better shape he’d have been quicker with his quip.

But yet, he was left drifting in between the heady thrill and the uneventful come down they’d shared. 

He blinked slowly at her. Could see that the hallway light was the only one on, but somewhere, further down the hall, a soft glow from one of her many lamps crept its way past a door. 

“You said you’d call.” He found himself saying in reply, though it wasn’t the reprimand he’d thought it was. 

Her smile was soft then. Fond. 

His breath caught at the sight of her, still laboured from the minute before.

“After.” Squeaks whispered in recall. And Matty heard himself repeat it, “After, you said.”

She took a small step closer to him, the padding of her feet echoed in the narrow walkway. Matty’s hands twitched at his sides.

He saw her throat bob. 

“Tea?” She questioned, and Matty was both thankful and resentful for the quiet offer. 

He nodded, blinking owlishly at her. 

They stood there, not moving, for a long moment. The sound of a car passed, then the scuffle of a person or two outside, as well as the far off yap of a neighbouring dog. And still they just stood there, staring.

She took another step nearer and Matty attempted not to react to the way her fingers caught on the front of his coat, memorising the careful way she started to peel it off of him, turning so that she could claim it and then hang it off some place to the side. He looked at her the whole while, scared to take his eyes off her, in truth.

He licked at his lower lip when he caught her staring too and captured her hand in his when she went to step around him. 

“Tea.” He reminded himself and she smiled, eyes flickering across the length of his face. As though she was seeing him for the first time.

“Tea.”

…

Her kitchen always felt so homely. 

She had spices fixed to a rack on the wall, wound in growing ivy attached to the potted plant that sat on the windowsill beside it. Her fridge was dotted in magnets and polaroids, and a drawing of Teddy’s hung front and centre. The table was always so neat, though still cluttered with the odd crayon and lego piece, a bowl of fruit was perched in the very middle. She had one of those kettle cosy’s too, a knitted one that reminded Matty of days spent at his nana’s house when he was just a boy. 

His favourite part of all of it though, had to be her. 

He stood in the doorway and just watched as she puttered about the space, flashbacks of previous visits coming back to him. She had this easy grace about her, an elegance he always seen but could never quite make out. She was a piece to many puzzles in the way she typically held herself, so ready to fight and so willing to wilt, but in that moment she just was.

And Matty could hardly tear his eyes away from her, from the length of her back to the curve of her waist. The taste, the memory of her still coating his tongue.

He’d kicked off his shoes before he could trail a messy track throughout her home, so his footsteps were quiet when he finally crossed the kitchen tiles. He paused just behind her, his hands falling to her hips whilst his chin dropped to rest on her shoulder.

She allowed it. Picking up the kettle to pour over two mismatched mugs, he simply watched her work.

It was a difficult task not allowing his hands to wander, or to keep his mouth from pressing against the pulse in her neck, but he withheld, content to just hold her. Humming when she picked up the milk and thinking over the last day they’d spent together. That night at his.

They moved over to the table not long after, her kitchen blinds were still open so the moon gifted them all the light they needed. Matty kept close, knocking his knees against hers at the very corner of the table, unwilling to go without.

She was quiet still whilst she danced a finger around the rim of her steaming brew, Matty was mesmerised by the delicate motion.

A hum of hers broke the silence they had since settled in, the softness of it causing him to blink and look up, immediately recognising the faint tune of the demo he’d sent her.

He smiled, his eyes caught on to the one she wore too. Practically conspiratorial.

His legs reached outwards to capture one of her ankles between his feet, her gaze flickered back and forth between both his eyes. He wondered what she saw in them, what she made of him.

“I’m guessing you liked it then.” Matty spoke, voice ever so low, still scared to break their languid solitude.

Mouse dipped her chin in a nod, peering up at him through dark lashes that made him want to catch her by the neck and pull her in again. He knew what she tasted like now, he felt as though it would forever haunt him.

“Thank you,” She whispered after, fingers cupped around the bottom of her mug. His brow furrowed.

“For what?”

She smiled again, blinking at him sweetly, “For my gifts, for always being so lovely, for sending me that song.”

Matty snorted, knowing that the last thing he could possibly be was lovely.

Fingertips touched his chin then and she guided his face back up to meet hers, he hadn’t realised he’d even looked away. But it was then that he was reminded of that night in his own kitchen, crowded between her legs and the counter, her kind eyes. You’re enough.

“Was it for me?” She questioned, watching him closely again. Something she tended to always do. “‘Cause that kiss, it sort of made it feel like it was for me.”

Matty grinned, eyes squinting with the strength of it. 

It was so easy- too easy, even- for her to make him smile like that, and he couldn’t even begin to decide whether he loved or hated the fact that she had the ability. 

“Yeah, Squeaks. It was for you.”

Her cheeks dimpled in an attempt to dim the smile she then wore, elbows pressing against the table’s edge, her foot resting on top of his own. “Good.” She murmured, leaning in closer now.

“Good?” He chuckled, following the motion. Eyes caught on the curve of her mouth.

“Uhuh,” She breathed into the small space between them, nose brushing against the side of Matty’s own. “Really good.”

He laughed again, low and breathy this time around, before he finally closed the distance and kissed her for a second time.

She laughed too, smiling against his lips.

–

For an insomniac, the dark was a place full of many contradictions.

Matty had spent countless hours staring up at all types of ceilings, in all sorts of places, and in all kinds of countries. But hers, he reckoned, was possibly his favourite. As most things had come to be in the short time he’d spent with Mouse.

Because even as she slept on beside him, bundled in the duvet and a blanket that smelt of her, he didn’t stress over the fact that he was still wide awake. 

His mind was too preoccupied to stress. Just thinking back to the expression she’d worn when she’d first opened the front door. To the breathy gasps that had escaped her in the hallway. The way she’d gently carded her fingers through his hair after she’d lured him into bed. Promising to talk more tomorrow.

He thought of Luke then, as well. As he often did whenever the darkness plagued him.

The fucker would be laughing if he could just see him now, obsessing and all soppy over some bird. Smiling away to himself in the dark.

But Matty knew that he’d be happy too. Glad that he was finally getting back on the right track. Actually trying this time around. Because Luke had known the hardships of addiction just as well as Matty had- it was what had killed him in the end, wasn't it.

He could still picture his face, both before and after the fall. One second they’d all been grinning on that roof, high as kites and drunk out of their minds, having the time of their lives, and then his had hit the concrete.

Matty’s stomach rolled at the thought.

At the eerie silence that had followed.

He’d been struggling that night, trying to get clean, to stay clean. And they’d only gone to the party, Luke and Danny, to appease him. Luke, having tagged along wanting to look out for him, to make sure that he didn’t get too caught up in anything he couldn’t get himself out of.

Luke had been sober three months at that point. Clean of the drugs and the drink. All of it. He’d drank that night though, the party had been at one of his dodgier mates places and he wouldn’t have been able to have stayed in the clear.

Matty remembered egging him on, telling him to live a little. To have a beer. A shot. And then another. And another. Someone else had offered him that line though.

He’d been hammered by the time some idiot had come up with that dare and they’d all thought it had been a sick idea to try and walk the length of the roof. Like they were at Zippo’s sodding circus.

Luke had been doing so good. Matty had known it too. What with his first EP coming out that September, something which Jamie had made happen, and his new flat that he’d not long moved into. Away from the familiarity of street corners he knew far too well and faces of dealers that he’d seen time and time again before.

He’d been good. Been going steady.

Then he was just dead.

Matty didn’t close his eyes then, even as they began to water. Didn’t want to see him like that. Knew that he would if only he shut his eyes. Because he couldn't stand to see the reminder, the life that had left him too quickly.

A slight sniff broke him from his thoughts then and he stilled as Mouse moved and turned in her sleep.

He let himself breathe a little easier once she’d settled again, tucking her face into the crook of his shoulder and nestling further into his side. He wrapped an arm around her, needing her close, and then finally allowed his eyes to fall shut, burying his face in the top of her hair.

He wondered if she’d let him stay from now on and pressed a long kiss to her forehead.

He hoped that she would, listening to the quiet that hummed throughout the rest of her flat as his mind began to let go of what consciousness it had once clung on to.

‘Tomorrow’ was his final thought before he eventually drifted off. It had been a long time since he’d thought that he’d ever make it to a tomorrow.

–

It was a grunt I woke up to. The heavy and unfavoured kind, the type that was only ever forced out of you when you received a hefty blow to the stomach.

I felt my face wrinkle as I pressed in closer to the warmth beside me, unhappy to have been woken. But then I heard a whisper, followed by a giggle, which had me blinking blearily and peering up at the toddler now towering over me.

“Wake now?”

“Teddy.” I heard someone else laugh right above my head, and I was quick in the way I looked up, recognising that the warmth I’d been clinging to had been Matty all along. “You’re an actual monster, you know that?”

Teddy squealed happily when Matty tickled his sides, but seemed content with his place on the man’s stomach and the fact that Matty was here at all. 

I wanted to groan at the very idea, I hadn't much thought this through. Not when I’d heard the song, thinking back to the night I’d spent at his, the fight we’d had, the way he’d held Teddy and promised him that things would soon be alright.

It hadn’t felt real. It still didn’t.

“Wake?” Teddy said to me again and I had to give a soft laugh when I felt his finger prod at my cheek, which was probably marked with the line of Matty’s t-shirt now. “Yeah?”

I chuckled again, peering up at him. “Yeah, I’m awake.” I replied, smiling before I rubbed at my eyes.

Matty’s arm seemed to be tucked up under me because it twitched a tad when I moved. I grimaced at the loss of feeling he must have experienced and murmured a quiet “Sorry,” shuffling over slightly so that I could free the limb. But he merely laughed to himself before his hand came up to rub at my arm, keeping me close. 

“It’s fine.” Matty replied, his voice tinged with sleep and grainy from lack of use, but then he winced and flexed his fingers, “Oh.”

I snorted softly and glanced up at him, “Pins and needles?”

His nose wrinkled further, as did his lips when he tilted his head back and tried to shake loose the feeling from his wrist. I let him have his arm back, turning over onto my stomach to simply watch him, drinking in the sight of him whilst I still could.

“Yeah.” He hissed out and Teddy, who was watching too, started to shake his arm alongside Matty.

Matty only noticed the mimicking movement when he felt the toddler shift on his torso and opened his eyes up only to laugh at the way that Teddy was now copying him.

“Oi,” He admonished, using his other hand to playfully pinch at the boy’s side, “What you think you’re doin’?”

Teddy giggled, hair a mess from having just woken but grinning all the while. “Dancin’! Like you!”

I shook my head and bit back my sudden amusement before dropping it down into my hands when I couldn’t quite manage to hide my growing smile.

“Oh, we’re dancing are we?” I heard Matty say, and could feel the grin he probably wore. Then Teddy was laughing again and squirming beside me once more, sounding so happy, before the bed tilted more so to one side and a soft thud was heard. “Oi, where you off to!” Matty asked him whilst Teddy’s giggles still echoed around the space.

“Tele!” Was the only response he got and I listened to the way Teddy’s feet hurried out of the room, having escaped Matty’s merciless tickles.

There was a quiet for a moment before I felt a hand come to cradle my head and fingers card their way through my hair.

I leaned into the touch, savouring it. I didn’t think anyone had ever touched me with such a softness before, like I was something to be treasured, to be held and kept close.

It was a long while before I finally raised my head again, blinking at the sweet sight I was met with. I smiled at the mess his curls were in and the way his eyes squinted in the dim light of the room.

“Hi.” I whispered and his fingers stilled in my hair when he looked back at me. 

Matty didn’t say a thing though, merely shuffled further down the bed, the duvet being kicked somewhere to the bottom before he finally settled in beside me, both our heads now resting on a single pillow.

His fingertips skirted along the edge of my jaw and trailed across the bottom of my lip before his thumb reached out to catch it too, pinching the flesh ever so slightly.

“You snore.” Matty said to me then and my mouth dropped open slightly in offence.

“I do not.”

He snorted to himself, grin widening, “You do.”

I shoved him but his hands were quick to grab at my arms, wrapping them up and moving to press them against his chest. “It’s cool though, they’re cute snores.”

“How the fuck can they be cute, Matty?”

He rolled his eyes at the ask, still grinning away. “Like, just soft and stuff. Don’t stress, I’ve roomed with George and he’s got the lungs of a whale or summat. I could probably sleep next to a fog horn and feel at home.”

A bright laugh escaped me at that, before I was shaking my head gently and looking back at his sleepy smile. “That makes me feel so much better.”

Matty smacked his lips around another grin, shrugging the shoulder that wasn’t pressed to the mattress. He reached out then, brushing a loose strand from out of my face and let his thumb linger on a freckle.

“Your breath stinks as well.”

I bit into my bottom lip at that, narrowing my eyes at him. “Well yours is no better! And besides, you didn’t seem to mind it much last night.”

I went to turn over then but he was hasty in his movements to grab at me, tugging me back towards him, closer this time. I laughed joyfully, “Hey!”

“Hi.” Matty grinned smugly once we'd settled, his hand falling to the small of my back.

I was gripping one of his shoulders now whilst my other arm laid in the little space between us. “I said that already.” I told him, feeling each soft exhale that escaped him. 

He hummed, thumb rubbing circles into my skin. “I missed you, you know.”

My brow furrowed, “You slept right beside me, you muppet.”

He pinched my hip in retaliation and so I chuckled. “You know what I meant.”

I did know.

“Missed you, too.” I murmured, letting my fingertips trail up over the side of his neck, liking the feel of his barely there stubble. “But-”

He stopped me then, nudging my cheek with the tip of his nose, “I know. Later, yeah?”

My eyes fell closed and I hummed in agreement, later was fine. We could talk later.

His hand pressed against the curve of my back, forcing me even closer, and so my fingers worked themselves into his hair. I exhaled softly and tilted my head forward just a touch. He closed the distance between us in a single heartbeat.

Kissing Matty was different, everything about it just felt right in a way that no other kisses ever quite had. Things appeared to click. Fall into place around me. 

But don't get me wrong, it was painful too, because there was that ache in my chest again, the hole that hollowed out my unforgiving heart. I wanted him but at the same time, I was too terrified to reach out and touch.

Our lips brushed, once, twice, then a third time, hesitant and careful, before something shifted and I was taken back to the previous night. To the way his fingers had dug deep into my thighs, to the front door pressing against my spine, to the way he’d held me so weightlessly.

Talking could wait til later, I reminded myself.

Now, all I wanted was for Matty to consume me and I immediately gasped at the cold hand that dragged its way up my side to tease me, thumb brushing against the nipple that hardened beneath it. 

I wouldn’t let him have all the fun though, so without a second thought I rolled him over and settled on his hips. He was surprised by the change but adapted seamlessly, rutting up off the mattress to meet me, one hand still toying with me, taunting, whilst the other cupped the back of my head.

It was back and forth for a short while, mouth chasing mouth, chests heaving with the force of it.

But then, a bang hollowed out the flat.

I jumped at the sudden noise and shot my head over towards the door, listening in closer.

“Okay?” I called out, noting the breathless quality my voice now had. I waited and didn’t move even when Matty’s hands came to just sit on my waist. 

“‘Kay!” I heard Teddy shout back and I released a semi-amused huff before turning back to face the man beneath me, “Sorry.”

And I was. I really was, especially when I forced myself to drop back down onto the bed sheets next to him.

Matty simply chuckled and I glanced over at him, smiling slightly when he reached out to swipe a gentle thumb over the scar on my jaw. “You’re good." I wondered if he was just saying that, but then, "What do you think he’s actually done though? Sounded like the bike to me.”

I sighed at the very thought. The bike had been one of my mum’s many Christmas gifts to Teddy, one which I hardly had any room for in the flat. I silently hoped that it wasn't the bike, but was caught on the way Matty had so easily adapted, moving on without complaint.

Was that normal?

Matty’s hand coaxed me back into looking at him again and I softened when I saw the smile he wore. “Later,” He reminded me, knocking a knuckle against my chin before he withdrew completely, sitting up on the edge of the bed. “How about a fry up then? There's that bakery by the studio or the cafe up near mine, choice is yours but it’s on me.”

“Matty.” I huffed, not a whine but near enough, extending an arm out in hopes that it would call him back to bed.

He smirked, glancing at me from over his shoulder once he'd stood. He dragged a hand through his hair. “Come on, got a growing boy to feed- Teddy too, I 'spose.”

I rolled my eyes but couldn’t help my grin. “You’re an idiot.”

“So you’ve said.” He quipped and I could hear how his laughter filled the flat even as he headed for the bathroom, “Teds get ready, mate! We're getting bacon!”

I fell back onto the mattress with a smile, staring up at the ceiling above me with a little bit of hope.

[getvalentined]

I love when folks ask me Fandom Old questions and I get to be like "Yeah, uh, that's from my old online RP group, no it's not canon at all, yes we just made it up, no we did not claim it was canon but the mid to late aughts were a strange time."

It's honestly a shock to realize how often this has happened. I mentioned earlier that Reno's fanon surname came from this same group, but that's not even the half of it. I once made a bunch of screenshot manips based on the most ridiculous ships anyone could think of—someone slapped a random line of text onto one of them and to this day it's used as a "cringe FF7 fandom" meme. I saw it on the twits a bit back and almost fell out of my goddamn chair.

If you've ever heard Scarlet referred to with the surname "West," read about Tseng fighting with metal fans, seen Elena's older sister being called Anna instead of Emma, come across Vincent portrayed as having a PhD in spite of being a Turk, or caught references somewhere to Grimoire experimenting on Vincent as a child, that started with this group. That was us.

One of the funniest examples of this, for me specifically, is that we don't actually know which arm Veld is missing? The fandom generally goes with his left because that's how I drew him in the first picture of the guy ever posted on devart way back in 2005, but it may very well be his right. I've seen people offer "proof" that it's his right based on a scene in the opening cutscene, but you can't tell there either, and with BC's graphics there's literally no way to tell on his sprite.

Hell, this year we found out everyone's assumed timeline of the Kalm fire is wrong, and that's our fault too because we made some assumptions about Felicia's age for an LJ RP that were entirely wrong. She's around Zack's age, not Sephiroth's! She's old enough to run with a terrorist group in BC, but she was a child when Kalm burned, and that happened in 1997—we know this because NPCs in Rebirth literally refer to the fire in Kalm having happened "just ten years ago." Veld has only had his prosthetic for three years when BC starts. (This also implies that, contrary to popular belief, Veld may actually be younger than Vincent. Vincent may have been the senior partner, and that's why he was sent to Nibelheim alone while Veld was left at headquarters.)

We were really wrong on this! But we were working with what we had. There's no canon evidence for the vast majority of these things (the most notable exclusion here is Vincent being educated) but we weren't claiming there was. We were filling gaps, and canon was so sparse that we had a lot of gaps to fill. So if it turns out that Veld lost his right arm, then I'll just have to start drawing him that way—because losing his left was never canon.

Tragically, there's nothing any of us can do to make people stop assuming these things are canon at this point; there aren't a lot of us still in the fandom, and it's not like any of us have those old chatlogs anymore. People from this RP group have DIED since those days. It's been over 20 years since most of us met, and around 15 since most of us were in a public fannish space together.

"Prove it," people say, and I literally can't. Do you know how many computers I've been through since then? 75% of the platforms we used no longer exist. This all started on a BBCode forum! There is no proof!

But...there's no evidence any of these things are canon, either, so maybe think about that? The Kalm fire, Tseng's weapon of choice, Veld's arm, character surnames—none of these are retcons because there was no lore there to retcon. We made it up for our specific purposes, and it escaped containment in an era when there was really no way to do online contact tracing.

It's just one of the weirdest feelings in the world to see younger folk arguing about A or B point in canon, about X or Y retcon—referencing something my friends and I thought up at like 10 o'clock at night on a now-defunct IM client in August of 2005, because we needed something to refer back to for a specific scene in an RP and the source material had nothing to offer.

Absolutely fucking bonkers.

[olderthannetfic]

hiii i know you're just a person and not a library but if you happen to have them on hand, i'd greatly thank you for some resources on how social justice topics first entered fandom pre-tumblr-2010s, especially in the 90s or earlier is the period i'm interested in, if fans were very eager on being "politically correct" and went out of their way to find related academic texts or if they sort of had to be "kicked in the butt" to do research by people who were already involved in social justice irl, and also if there was pushback against social justice entering fandom & what the arguments were (i know the japanese had the yaoi ronso, i wonder if there is some clearly traceable event like that for the western fandom, or just some insight into the decades-long process it was and how the arguments have changed overtime, eg. yesterday i stumbled across a forum discussion about how a certain character using misogynistic language is "just how working class people talk", & it's so interesting bc that's a kind of argument which seems to have fallen out of circulation completely, so that got me wondering on what other shifts there could have been👀)

--

I mean... "fans" is pretty broad. But if you want to know about m/m fans in Western fandom, that's a lot more answerable.

Ye olde slash fandom did have plenty of discussion around queerness. There's a certain style that's much more common in older fic where one of them is really struggling with homophobia and doesn't like the idea of being into men and so does something or other awful to create drama in the fic, and even then, some fans would be like "Then he's an undatable jerk!"

The further back you go in that kind of fandom, the more everyone is a mega-nerd and quite possibly an academic. There are certainly things that are openly talked about today that people were clueless about then (trans issues, for example), but you have to do a lot more kicking now to get someone to read an academic article on average.

I really cannot express how much more default-intellectual this hobby was in the 90s and before.

Here's an example of the sort of thing people were coming up with:

Here's a bunch of early 00s meta:

Here's a fanlore article with a smattering of the many long discussions about Why Slash:

Here's a starting point on some rapey stuff in Pros fandom that people had meta thoughts about:

And a common practice of writing fic to debunk/respond to other people's fic that used to be so overt there was a term for it:

You could also just go through the history of Escapade, the oldest slash con that's still running in 2023, and see what the panel topics were:

--

I'm not sure "social justice" is quite the way to look at this. If you're curious about m/m shippers and misogynist language or treatment of internalized homophobia in fic, that will be covered quite well by things like the above. Plenty of individual fanfic people were involved in AIDS activism because that was everywhere back then. But race stuff? Other kinds of social justice? I don't remember those coming up much.

And of course fans were not eager to be "politically correct". Being involved in slash fandom in the 80s was seen as being a pervert and a purveyor of underground pornography. These were rebels, not pearl-clutching line-toers.

They might have been eager to be pro-gay, but they sure as fuck didn't express it in those namby-pamby terms.

[dopenightmaretyphoon]

Happy Birthday Hon

Authors Note: This has been a long time in the making, im sorry it's short.

Trigger warnings: one-sided feelings, bad mother?

If there was one thing you hated more than anything, it was your birthday. You had always had bad experiences, whether it be your family putting your twin brother first or yours, exs forgetting you just lost all hope in birthdays so you didn't celebrate it. You always woke up to half assed text from your mother reminding you that you're another year older without being married or having kids.

When you had first started at Abbott, Melissa was determined to learn everything about you. You were happy to answer most questions apart from when your birthday was, so in true Melissa Schemmenti style she stormed into Ava's office and demanded she told the red head when your birthday was. Ava gave Melissa the information not really thinking about anything.

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

The day of your birthday came quicker than either you or Melissa would have liked. Melissa had spent most of the night before setting up plans and making sure to get you new supplies for your classroom as well as a few things for yourself.

You woke and chose not to look at your phone, you got dressed and headed to work but unlike normal you are the first teacher to arrive. You never beat Barbara and Melissa, you shrugged not thinking much about it and head to the staff room, walking in you sat in your normal seat on the couch and finished off the grading you started last night.

Melissa woke up in a panic, she had slept passed her alarm which made her late. Not that she could be since her alarm would make sure she would be at work at least half an hour earlier than the other teachers. She sighed and got dressed making sure to pick up your presents and headed out.

Barbara walked into the staff room expecting to see you as she had seen your car in your normal spot. As she walked in, she found you curled up on couch reading a book

"Happy birthday sweetheart"

You nealry broke your neck spinning around to see Barbara stood at the coffer machine

"Uh yeah... thanks I guess"

You chose not to question how Barbara knew and went back to your book. 20 minutes later Melissa walked into the staff room and sat next to you.

"Happy birthday hon"

You had heard Melissa boots on the floor walking towards to the staff room so you had already put down your book and sat better.

"Thanks, what's all this?"

The red head looked at you confused

"Birthday presents, what did you think they were?"

You shrugged, looking a little confused, trying to think about who's birthday could be the same as yours

"I'm not sure, who's birthday have I missed?"

Barbara and Melissa share a confused and worried look, Barbara was the first to speak from the table

"No one's sweetheart, it's only yours today"

You looked between the women even more confused now, millions of questions went through your head. How could they have known? Why have they got your gifts? Is this some sort of prank?

"/n? Y/n?"Melissa saying your name snapped you from any and all thoughts

"Yeah? Sorry what did you say?"

"Are you okay hon? You seem a little out of it"

The read head repeated

"Yeah, I'm okay. How did you know? Why did you get me gifts? Is this some sort of prank? Where are the cameras?"

Once again worry and confusion is written across Melissa’s face

"Ava, we care about you, this definitely isn't a prank and the cameras aren't here yet"

You sat there for a minute taking everything in. Barbara walked over and sat the other side of you.

Barbara unlike Melissa had choice to keep a distance from you as the older women didn't want to confess feelings for you knowing her best friend had a massive crush on you.

"Sweetheart, it's your birthday. Everyone deserves presents and to be celebrated"

Melissa hummed in agreement, both women watched as you processed everything. You turned Melissa to face you and kissed her, it took Mel a minute to release what is happening but the second she does, the red head pulled you closer and deepen the kiss.

Barbara watched happy that her best friend and you were happy despite the aching feeling it gave her that you would never like her.

You spent your birthday happy for the first time ever, Barbara faked a smile the whole day and Melissa happily spoilt you.

[johannestevans]

the thing about homophobic violence in stephen king's work is that like. he really has a good understanding of what drives a lot of homophobic violence, in that it's a desire for power and domination, and is often motivated by insecurity

esp bc like. i think he's quite good at understanding that like, out of 5 guys in a group doing a hate crime, most of them are bigoted and are either angry or want to show their power, but 1 of them might be doing it to mask his desire for their victim

idk like. i'm p sure king has talked about how the homoerotic vibes of richie and eddie aren't necessarily intentional in the original book, but obvs diff adaptations and responses over time has influenced how he feels about that reading of the text

and particularly in the storm of the century like. the detail specifically that it's the gay dude's hair that triggers the main homophobic dude's attraction to him, and therefore his desire to instigate violence against him?

and idk i'm watching apt pupil now, which is obviously adapted by bryan singer, and i think it's interesting as a jewish guy for him to focus on the themes of sexual violence, gratification through power, and internalised homophobia

esp as someone who like. is himself a violent sexual predator and has particularly sexually exploited children for so long, it makes sense that he'd identify with and focus on the idea of like. the fraught sexual dynamics between them

the fact that both denker's character and todd's are both gratified by and attracted to violence, but the fact that todd himself like. seeks out power over this man, and rather than in the short story like. his lack of attraction to his gf isn't bc she's jewish or bc he's violent

but is instead implied to be by the narrative and by her own dialogue that like. he's not actually attracted to women at all, and his fixation on denker's crimes and on nazism in general are a way to obfuscate his desire for men

and denker himself is obvs like. cognizant of that - w the gay dude he invites into his home who reads him as gay, but also just thinking of the physical intimacy between the two, the way he leans over and reaches past todd, small touches, etc

and esp the fact that the end of this film is about like. todd attempting to deny everything he's done and start over with a "clean slate", and particularly accusing french of grooming him, paralleling denker's turning of the tables on him earlier

noteworthy particularly that like. french as a jewish guidance counsellor, the way that ppl do associate jewish traits & emasculated jewish men w perpetration of sexual violence, and that todd turning the exploitation on him is gonna be influenced by his own nazi ideology

that doesn't need to be explicitly laid out for it to be true, that his desire for power & his confidence in stating things that aren't true and knowing he'll be believed - knowing it doesn't matter if he ISN'T, bc the damage to his reputation will be real - being just.

straight out of the fascist playbook, the nazi focus on controlling narratives and the flow of information, damaging reputation, etc

and the fixation on appearance of success over anything else being attached to the secreted violence

it's a strange watch today just knowing that like. bryan singer now lives in israel bc the state of israel has established itself as a safe haven for a lot of sexual predators, and knowing that he's sexually exploited so many young boys

and while i don't think he's talked about it, like. one would assume his sexual exploitation and his shamelessness in it are at least in part bc of ways he was exploited as a boy himself, and how that influences his ideas of like. this sort of power exploitation narrative

idk. fucked up! much to think about!

apt pupil adapted by singer is ultimately a narrative about like, a teenage boy's burgeoning obsessive kink and sexual domination over an older man, and obvs that makes sense as like. singer's own fantasy

but also the fact that like. singer obvs has a more sophisticated understanding of the implicit sexuality of a lot of this forced and coercive intimacy and violence - and also the fact that like. a young man like todd being So Successful is like

in part going to be attached to his focus on and obsession with nazi ideology, esp in the 1990s, SO LONG AS he keeps it subversive and doesn't say the quiet part out loud, as evidenced by rich family and how they're just cool w denker potentially being a nazi

like the grandfather asks, is obviously suspicious, but then is basically cool with it

and tbh the fact that like. his parents are basically cool with him going along and being groomed by this old man so long as it's not Obvious why and doesn't damage their reputation

bc the Nazism and white supremacist ideology embedded in WASP society is all about like. Appearances and deniability - child sexual abuse and antisemitism are both perfectly acceptable so long as no one KNOWS that's what you're involved in

[ichijager13]

Make it up for you

Summary:  After a heated fight, Eren leaves your shared apartment. when he comes back he makes a hell of an apology.

A/N: I’m in love with an imaginary man and he’s making me raising my standards to unreasonable limits sometimes. This is selfindulgent and I’m crying because I know I’ll never have something like this with him. *Sniff sniff*

“Because I fucking told you not to do it”. he yelled punching the wall behind you. “I asked you not to interfere”. you jolted eyes widening and tears threatening to start streaming down your face. Realizing he scared you off, he quickly backs away. You remain there pressed against the wall in a state of stupor. Eren was normally a calm and put-together person. For you to see him like this was quite shocking. You try to get a hold of yourself, take a deep breath and calm down. You walk towards him reaching your hands to him but before you get close enough, he grabs his jacket and storms out of the house slamming the door behind him.

“Eren wait”. You press your trembling hands against your mouth as you fall to your knees crying.

Eren’s relationship with his father and older brother has always been complicated. You chose to stay out of it since the beginning. But that night when Carla called you on the verge of breaking down and told you about what happened during Eren’s last visit and asked for your help to get things fixed between the two siblings you couldn’t turn your back to her.

“Stay out of it”. he simply said wearing a stern look when you tempted to talk some sense into him. but you thought you were doing the right thing. You thought that by inviting Sieg for dinner, things would get better. You pick up your phone and type a text message but then delete it. if he wants some space to clear his thoughts then you’ll give it to him, even if it’s killing you.

With your sobs calmed, you open your laptop trying to finish your next week’s assignment but you are too distracted to focus on what you were reading. You clench your eyes shut trying to sort out your thoughts but when you remember how hard his eyes were and the violence of his actions your tears start falling all over again. You put down your computer, bring your legs against your chest and sit on your couch sobbing quietly.

You have never seen him this angry in the two years you lived together under the same roof. He has always been nice-tempered and easygoing. You were still in your place when you heard the door crack open. You hug yourself tighter making yourself smaller. Your heart starts pounding and your breath catches when you hear his footsteps approaching. You quickly hide your face not wanting to get a glimpse of his angry expression.

“Hey love, I’m sorry for…”. You crawl to the far side of the couch when you feel the dip in the couch next to you. Eren sighs before speaking again. “I screwed up earlier and I’m sorry”. Getting no reaction from you he added. “It’s not your fault, you thought you were doing the right thing”. He ran a nervous hand through his hair pushing back the strands that framed his forehead. “I shouldn’t have shouted and gotten angry at you”. he placed a hand on your knee. “I’m truly sorry for scaring you”. his voice was filled with genuine guilt. He tried to draw you closer but you nudge his hand the moment it brushed your body. You remain there still for a few minutes before he goes out to the balcony to smoke. You stand up and go to your bedroom, slip into your pajama and hide under the bedsheets. You can’t help but start crying when you hear him closing the balcony door and getting into the bedroom. He undresses silently before he takes place beside you. The smell of cigarettes tickles your nose so you bury your face in your pillow.

He can hear you sniffing and it pains him to know that it’s his fault. When your breathing seems to calm down a bit; he scoops you closer spooning you. You feel his muscled biceps tightening around your shaking body. “I apologize for earlier my love”. He breathes against your skin. “I shouldn’t have reacted that way”. He littered your neck with light pecks. “It won’t happen again, I promise”. His hand slipped under your tank top and started drawing mindless patterns. “Please love, forgive me for scaring you like that”. His lips were ghosting your ear shell as he continued to apologize and express his regrets. “I love you”. he whispered nibbling your lobe.

You slowly roll on your side so you could face him. “I’m sorry, I wanted to fix things between you two. I didn’t mean to upset you”. you are stumbling over your words breathing hastily. His calloused hands run up and down your back trying to comfort you.

“It’s alright, it’s not your fault”. He whispers brushing away your tears. “Please, I hate to see you cry”. He pleads before capturing your trembling lips. he continues kissing you until you stop crying. “I love you, my sweet angel”. his words feel like a warm shale wrapped around your soul. you cup his jaw and caress it gently.

“I love you”. you speak voice still quivering from how long you cried. Your lips connect again in a messy and needy make-out. One of your hands slides along his bare chest following the lines of his lean figure. He tilted your face to deepen the kiss before sucking on your lower lip causing a deep moan to escape from you.

“This is the first and the last time I do something like this”. He let out. his voice was husky and filled with urgent need. Bringing your gaze to his, you are met with dark and hungry eyes. Your eyes squeeze shut when he presses his center to yours and starts rolling his hips slowly. “I’ll never scar you like that again”. His hands were molding the fat of your thighs. He is breathing hard and you feel his heartbeat accelerating under your hand. “Let me make it up for you”. he mumbles as his finger hook on your waistband. “Can I?” he asks for your consent before he tugs at it dragging your shorts and underwear along your legs when a shaky yes drops from your lips. you let your head fall back as his fingers go up your legs and brush your inner thighs. “Keep looking at me”. he orders you while massaging your heated entrance. “Wanna see your face shift as I make you forget about earlier”. His middle and index trace the contour of your wet lips and clit before he inserts them inside of you. he groans as your warm gummy walls suck his long digits in. the wet sounds that result from his thrusts make him lose the last threat of sanity he had left in him. he continues stimulating your hungry core as his other hand strip you from your top. His eyes are fixed on your breasts as they bounce while you grind against his hand.

“Eren”. You whine when his mouth closes around your hard nipple.

He catches your hand before it reaches his throbbing shaft. “It’s about you tonight. I’ll take care of that later”. He brought back his mouth to your breasts. He continues massaging your clit with his thumb as his fingers pick up the pace. They go deeper, curling and brushing all your weak spots. Your back is arching underneath him and you are fisting the bedsheets trying to hold on to something. Feeling it’s not enough, you dig your nails into his strong back making him growl. When he feels you clenching around him, he looks up and watches your fucked up face as he makes you reach your peak. “Gorgeous”. He caresses your face flashing you a wide and satisfied grin. “So fucking gorgeous”. He rumbles going down leaving a trail of openmouthed kisses along your body. You gasp and buck your hips when you feel his breath between your legs. He looks up at you slowly dragging his tongue across his lips before he disappears between your burning thighs. He grabs them and parts them further giving him a full view of the mess he made with his digits. He darts his tongue licking your liquids and humming. “And tastes so sweet”. He grits as his wet muscle play with your folds. By the time he pulls away, you are a whimpering and overstimulated mess.

“Eren, enough”. You cried feeling him massaging your intimate part. “Can’t, mmhm, too much”. You slur drunk on what he has been doing to you for the past couple of hours.

“But I’m not done yet”. He pouted bringing his lips against your ear. “I haven’t fucked you yet, I need you to cum on my cock love”. his words made your brain go blank. No matter how many times you had him like this your body always reacts strongly to him. he could fuck you stupid every day and you’d still be a feverish panting mess before he’s even done with you.

“Then quit teasing”. You plead. “Please Eren, I’m tired”. Hearing the magic word, he slammed himself inside of you. you screamed in surprise and pain. With each thrust, he got you stuttering and chanting his name unable to form any intelligible words. He continues moving inside of you even after he cums because he just can’t get enough of the filthy noises you and your cunt are making. When he finally drags his sex out of you, you can barely lift your eyes and look at him when he calls your name.

“So fucked up you can’t even speak huh”. He teases before brushing his lips against your puffy and sensitive ones. “Are you still upset with me?” He asks as he covers your intertwined bodies with a blanket. You slowly shake your head nuzzling his neck. “Good, I can’t go to sleep knowing we’re on bad terms”. He whispers pecking your forehead. “Sleep tight, my angel”. He speaks softly feeling your regular breathing and your body still against his.

“Because I fucking told you not to do it”. he yelled punching the wall behind you. “I asked you not to interfere”. you jolted eyes widening and tears threatening to start streaming down your face. Realizing he scared you off, he quickly backs away. You remain there pressed against the wall in a state of stupor. Eren was normally a calm and put-together person. For you to see him like this was quite shocking. You try to get a hold of yourself, take a deep breath and calm down. You walk towards him reaching your hands to him but before you get close enough, he grabs his jacket and storms out of the house slamming the door behind him.

“Eren wait”. You press your trembling hands against your mouth as you fall to your knees crying.

Eren’s relationship with his father and older brother has always been complicated. You chose to stay out of it since the beginning. But that night when Carla called you on the verge of breaking down and told you about what happened during Eren’s last visit and asked for your help to get things fixed between the two siblings you couldn’t turn your back to her.

“Stay out of it”. he simply said wearing a stern look when you tempted to talk some sense into him. but you thought you were doing the right thing. You thought that by inviting Sieg for dinner, things would get better. You pick up your phone and type a text message but then delete it. if he wants some space to clear his thoughts then you’ll give it to him, even if it’s killing you.

With your sobs calmed, you open your laptop trying to finish your next week’s assignment but you are too distracted to focus on what you were reading. You clench your eyes shut trying to sort out your thoughts but when you remember how hard his eyes were and the violence of his actions your tears start falling all over again. You put down your computer, bring your legs against your chest and sit on your couch sobbing quietly.

You have never seen him this angry in the two years you lived together under the same roof. He has always been nice-tempered and easygoing. You were still in your place when you heard the door crack open. You hug yourself tighter making yourself smaller. Your heart starts pounding and your breath catches when you hear his footsteps approaching. You quickly hide your face not wanting to get a glimpse of his angry expression.

“Hey love, I’m sorry for…”. You crawl to the far side of the couch when you feel the dip in the couch next to you. Eren sighs before speaking again. “I screwed up earlier and I’m sorry”. Getting no reaction from you he added. “It’s not your fault, you thought you were doing the right thing”. He ran a nervous hand through his hair pushing back the strands that framed his forehead. “I shouldn’t have shouted and gotten angry at you”. he placed a hand on your knee. “I’m truly sorry for scaring you”. his voice was filled with genuine guilt. He tried to draw you closer but you nudge his hand the moment it brushed your body. You remain there still for a few minutes before he goes out to the balcony to smoke. You stand up and go to your bedroom, slip into your pajama and hide under the bedsheets. You can’t help but start crying when you hear him closing the balcony door and getting into the bedroom. He undresses silently before he takes place beside you. The smell of cigarettes tickles your nose so you bury your face in your pillow.

He can hear you sniffing and it pains him to know that it’s his fault. When your breathing seems to calm down a bit; he scoops you closer spooning you. You feel his muscled biceps tightening around your shaking body. “I apologize for earlier my love”. He breathes against your skin. “I shouldn’t have reacted that way”. He littered your neck with light pecks. “It won’t happen again, I promise”. His hand slipped under your tank top and started drawing mindless patterns. “Please love, forgive me for scaring you like that”. His lips were ghosting your ear shell as he continued to apologize and express his regrets. “I love you”. he whispered nibbling your lobe.

You slowly roll on your side so you could face him. “I’m sorry, I wanted to fix things between you two. I didn’t mean to upset you”. you are stumbling over your words breathing hastily. His calloused hands run up and down your back trying to comfort you.

“It’s alright, it’s not your fault”. He whispers brushing away your tears. “Please, I hate to see you cry”. He pleads before capturing your trembling lips. he continues kissing you until you stop crying. “I love you, my sweet angel”. his words feel like a warm shale wrapped around your soul. you cup his jaw and caress it gently.

“I love you”. you speak voice still quivering from how long you cried. Your lips connect again in a messy and needy make-out. One of your hands slides along his bare chest following the lines of his lean figure. He tilted your face to deepen the kiss before sucking on your lower lip causing a deep moan to escape from you.

“This is the first and the last time I do something like this”. He let out. his voice was husky and filled with urgent need. Bringing your gaze to his, you are met with dark and hungry eyes. Your eyes squeeze shut when he presses his center to yours and starts rolling his hips slowly. “I’ll never scar you like that again”. His hands were molding the fat of your thighs. He is breathing hard and you feel his heartbeat accelerating under your hand. “Let me make it up for you”. he mumbles as his finger hook on your waistband. “Can I?” he asks for your consent before he tugs at it dragging your shorts and underwear along your legs when a shaky yes drops from your lips. you let your head fall back as his fingers go up your legs and brush your inner thighs. “Keep looking at me”. he orders you while massaging your heated entrance. “Wanna see your face shift as I make you forget about earlier”. His middle and index trace the contour of your wet lips and clit before he inserts them inside of you. he groans as your warm gummy walls suck his long digits in. the wet sounds that result from his thrusts make him lose the last threat of sanity he had left in him. he continues stimulating your hungry core as his other hand strip you from your top. His eyes are fixed on your breasts as they bounce while you grind against his hand.

“Eren”. You whine when his mouth closes around your hard nipple.

He catches your hand before it reaches his throbbing shaft. “It’s about you tonight. I’ll take care of that later”. He brought back his mouth to your breasts. He continues massaging your clit with his thumb as his fingers pick up the pace. They go deeper, curling and brushing all your weak spots. Your back is arching underneath him and you are fisting the bedsheets trying to hold on to something. Feeling it’s not enough, you dig your nails into his strong back making him growl. When he feels you clenching around him, he looks up and watches your fucked up face as he makes you reach your peak. “Gorgeous”. He caresses your face flashing you a wide and satisfied grin. “So fucking gorgeous”. He rumbles going down leaving a trail of openmouthed kisses along your body. You gasp and buck your hips when you feel his breath between your legs. He looks up at you slowly dragging his tongue across his lips before he disappears between your burning thighs. He grabs them and parts them further giving him a full view of the mess he made with his digits. He darts his tongue licking your liquids and humming. “And tastes so sweet”. He grits as his wet muscle play with your folds. By the time he pulls away, you are a whimpering and overstimulated mess.

“Eren, enough”. You cried feeling him massaging your intimate part. “Can’t, mmhm, too much”. You slur drunk on what he has been doing to you for the past couple of hours.

“But I’m not done yet”. He pouted bringing his lips against your ear. “I haven’t fucked you yet, I need you to cum on my cock love”. his words made your brain go blank. No matter how many times you had him like this your body always reacts strongly to him. he could fuck you stupid every day and you’d still be a feverish panting mess before he’s even done with you.

“Then quit teasing”. You plead. “Please Eren, I’m tired”. Hearing the magic word, he slammed himself inside of you. you screamed in surprise and pain. With each thrust, he got you stuttering and chanting his name unable to form any intelligible words. He continues moving inside of you even after he cums because he just can’t get enough of the filthy noises you and your cunt are making. When he finally drags his sex out of you, you can barely lift your eyes and look at him when he calls your name.

“So fucked up you can’t even speak huh”. He teases before brushing his lips against your puffy and sensitive ones. “Are you still upset with me?” He asks as he covers your intertwined bodies with a blanket. You slowly shake your head nuzzling his neck. “Good, I can’t go to sleep knowing we’re on bad terms”. He whispers pecking your forehead. “Sleep tight, my angel”. He speaks softly feeling your regular breathing and your body still against his.

[cloudygreece]

With the time we have left together

Pairings| mute!Fem!readerxpostwar!Giyuu

READING TYPE| ANGST~some fluff (no happy ending) POV: 3rd person Fem!reader

SYNOPSIS| You finally get the life that you had always deserved. Unfortunately it will only last for 4 years. The mark of thr slayer slowly draining the life from your soul and body as you draw nearer to your impending doom, however you get to spend what little time you have left with the people you love.

CW! Themes of pregnancy, childbirth and death are present in this writing! (Its also pretty cringy, I wrote this at 2am)

A/N: just to clarify, y/n became mute due to an injury that was inflicted on her during the fight with muzan, one of her two vocal strips were severely damaged causing her to lose her ability to speak. Yes she did learn sign language after healing. (Italicized texts means y/n is signing) Y/N was a Hashira, there are also mentions of a Tsuguko (an apprentice of a Hashira) she will be present throughout the whole story (please give them a name if you haven't made one. You can use mine if u can't figure one out :D ~ Hanami Ito <3). Giyuu is a bit older than you! However the time of death due to the slayer mark never specified how long after turning 25 until they die.

Word count 1.5k

Key

(Y/n)-Your name

(T/n)-Tsuguko name

(B/s)-Breathing Style

⋆｡°·☁︎Hope you enjoy☁︎·°｡⋆

It was unfortunate. Her romance with her one true love started off so much later than she expected. By the time they were married, they both had only a year or two left; that was the price of the mark. The mark that both of them used to defeat the demon lord four years ago...

Two months have passed... ...and the former (B/s) Hashira is still healing. However, with her vocal cords and her breathing being weak, she could never explore the world outside of Japan. All she could do was stay at her shared home with her former Tsuguko (T/n) and Giyuu Tomioka, the former water Hashira that she once fought the demon lord head-to-head with. 

It was difficult at first for all of them. None of them were able to communicate with (Y/n) about her thoughts, wants, and needs. Any noise she could make sounded like gurgled croaks and strained whispers, too soft or incoherent for anyone to understand. She had to learn sign language, and so did the others if they wanted to know what she was saying. Tirelessly, they all learned together; it was a good thing she didn't lose her hearing as well. Tomioka, with only one hand, felt relieved that (Y/n) didn't get injured even more. As time grew on, they became fluent in sign language, being able to interpret her words to others through the flow and movement of her hands. 

Five months passed after the war ended... ...(Y/n), with nothing else to do, started to take an interest in baking. She would always find herself giving the sweets that she made to the last remaining slayers, who were finishing up their final recoveries. The three of them realized that the former (B/s) Hashira had a talent for cooking and baking.

With the money she and the other two had saved, they all opened up a bakery. They produce delicious breads and desserts. The trio had to spend countless nights trying to find the perfect recipes for them to sell, even though it caused some sleepless nights. It was the perfect life compared to what they endured in the earlier years of their lives for the two who formed the mark. As time grew on, their bonds grew ever closer, making it seem as if they were a family. However, the two slayers who formed the mark were becoming a bit fonder of each other. 

1 year and 8 months had passed after the war had ended...  ...when (T/n) noticed that the two started to catch feelings for one another. (T/n) would find ways to excuse themselves from the presence of their master and her unrequited lover, always leaving them alone as they held somewhat silent conversations with each other about the most mundane things.

2 years and 6 months had passed after the war had ended... ...and they finally tied the knot.

"Finally! Took you guys long enough! When's the wedding?"

(Y/n)'s hands flew around excitedly as she signed

"Oh, probably in 5 months! We'll make the cake, and we know where we're going to do our wedding and who we're inviting. We just need to figure out the flowers, catering, and our attire."

(T/n) has never seen their master this happy before. They could almost hear the excitement bubbling from her throat as she tried to speak. The burn and slash marks on her neck, covered loosely by her scarf, reminded the apprentice of how little time the couple had left. They cast their eyes down to avoid eye contact between the two; they knew it was inevitable, and yet they were able to find love with one another. 

Suddenly Tomiokas voice broke the silence

"(T/n) We both understand your concerns about our health, and we are very aware of how much time we have left. Don't stress yourself out too much."

His tone was very dull, but his eyes weren't. His dark blue eyes showed kindness and reassurance toward the young apprentice. As Giyuu spoke, his one arm wrapped around her (Y/n) side, pulling her body closer to him. They both starred at each other lovingly, before walking over to (T/n) to give them a nice, warm, reassuring hug.

2 years and 11 months had passed since the war had ended... ...The cherry blossoms fell as (Y/n) walked down the pathway towards Tomioka. Her eyes darted across the aisle as she saw those in the corps who she had fought together with to finally bring peace to their homes. All of them were smiling as they watched her with the man she always dreamed of, officially joining together as man and wife. Words (and signs) of joy, affermation, sadness, and hope were given to one another. Finally, they slowly approach each other to signify their unity with a kiss. As flower petals coated the air with a flurry of pinks, blues, and whites, everyone cheered as the pair finally had one another.

3 years and 6 months had passed since the war had ended... ...The couple both started to show signs of weakening. (Y/n) began to cough and wheeze if she did too much work, while Giyuu became much more lethargic and weaker. However, the small family was blessed, with another member soon joining them. 

"(T/n), I'm pregnant!"

(T/n)'s jaws hung low in shock as they dropped the pan full of freshly baked bread. (Y/n) quickly scampered towards her to help pick up the food. She signed slowly as she tried to calm her apprentice down.

"I haven't told Giyuu yet. Let's surprise him!"

The woman's face brightened the whole room as the two of them baked a small cake with the Kanji saying 'omedetou'. After closing down the shop, (T/n) called over Giyuu as the two showed him the cake.

"Huh? Why are you guys saying congratulations? Who are we Congratulating..??"

He looked at the cake bewildered, before he slowly looked up at (Y/n).

"Are you.."

She nodded eagerly before she was swooped up by her husband. Even with one arm and his strength weakening, he was still able to pick her up so easily. Happy giggles erupted from the mute woman. It was hoarse, but...she hasn't laughed in such a long time. It still sounded like how it used to. The sight of hearing her laugh after 3 years couldn't help but draw out tears in (T/n) and Giyuu. After a few minutes, everyone was bawling their eyes out. 

I wish this happiness could last forever..

It's been 4 years and 3 month since the war ended..

A hoarse wail could be heard from the couple's room. (T/n) rushed ahead of Giyuu, who was struggling to walk in the direction of the cries of his wife. As they entered the room, (T/n) could see (Y/n) clutching the sheets of her bed, her knuckles turning white, and her hair disheveled as strands fell from her loose ponytail. The midwife next to her was coaching her through every step, calling over (T/n) to bring the towels that they had brought. Fear clouds the apprentice's eyes as they see their mentor's head fall back onto her pillow, her breathing shallow as she looks at her apprentice with tearful eyes. Her mouth slowly opened through hastened breaths.

"Today's.. my....birthday...."

She croaked out. Suddenly, Giyuu weakly enters the room. His footsteps were heavy as his knees fell onto the tatami mats next to his wife's mattress. Her hands fiercely wrap around his as she screams, pushing one final time before a small cry could be heard from around the room. 

(T/n) just stood there. The realization hits them as they watch the baby being treated by one of the midwives. 'birthday..? Well, then that means she's...'

Their gaze reverts back to their mentor's body, her breath becoming more labored as the light in her eyes slowly starts to fade. Her hands gingerly passed by Giyuu's cheek as she smiled at him weakly. She mouthed something; (T/n) couldn't quite see it from where they were standing; in fact, they couldn't move at all; all they could do was watch as (Y/n) passed. Giyuu, now realizing what's happening, called one of the midwives frantically as they tried their best to resuscitate her. 

'She turns 25 today..'

(T/n) already knew it was useless.

It's been 3 months.

There (T/n) stands in the rain, a baby strapped tightly against their body with a white cloth. The soft snore coming from the child brought warmth throughout their whole body as they stood in front of two graves.

A soft voice could be heard from behind.

"I'm sure Giyuu-san and (y/n)-san would be happy to see you taking care of their child."

Four other people slowly approached the apprentice and the baby. Tears streak down their faces as they place flowers on the graves. (T/n) sniffled and nodded as they turned towards them, their own eyes full of sadness as they watched the last remaining bloodline of the two former Hashira's being swaddled in the former tsuguko's arms.

"Thank you Tanjirou. I'm sure they both enjoyed what time they had left. Together."

Closing notes~ this kinda cringy :)

⋆｡°·☁︎requests are open☁︎·°｡⋆ ~Sincerely, Greece

[slutforfictionalwomen]

Kinktober day 4

Wanda x Fem Reader

A/N: This is gonna be a short one cause I honestly don't feel like writing. Also not the kinkiest, so no warnings this time.

Wanda:

Hey baby, I will be home in 30 minutes. Get ready for me, wear the baby blue lingerie set I got you last week, and put on the soft house coat I got you, too. I love you.

I smile, reading the text. It's almost 10 pm, and my older girlfriend just finished her evening shift at work. I do as she says, walking to my room, putting on the perfectly fitted set. I know I look gorgeous in it, Wanda made sure I believed it earlier.

After changing into the clothes she wanted me to wear, I settle down on the couch and put on a tv show.

"Baby, I'm home." I'm half asleep, but I jump up as soon as I hear my girlfriend's voice.

Wanda walks in through the door, immediately seeing me on the couch in the requested clothing.

"Awwwe baby, thank you so much for being a good girl for me." She sits down beside me, kissing my forehead. "Come with me." She pulls me up, heading for our bedroom.

"I really want to relax for a bit, and what's a better way to do that than spending some sexy time with my gorgeous little princess." She takes my robe off, caressing my breasts.

"Please let me take care of you today. You've worked so hard. You deserve to relax." I kiss her shoulder, looking up at her through my eyelashes.

I know she can't resist me, I know she wants this. 

"Okay baby, but we'll do it my way." Wanda pushes me down on the bed, taking her clothes off in the process.

Once she is left in her underwear, just like me, she climbs on top of me, kissing from my belly to my neck.

"You're so beautiful, baby." She brushes her nose past mine.

"You're more beautiful," I respond honestly, knowing she won't like that answer.

"Well, maybe you should put that mouth to good use instead of talking nonsense." She slides off her panties, hovering her pussy above my mouth.

"Ready, love?" Wanda makes sure, and I take a deep breath.

"Sit down." She does exactly that. I slide my tongue back and start licking her pussy.

I pay attention to her clit, seeing how Wanda throws her head back whilst she's on top of me. I hum hungrily, sending vibrations to her bundle of nerves.

"Oh gosh, baby, you feel so good." I notice how Wanda is actively trying not to buck her hips, but failing. It's not like I care anyway. She can do whatever she wants to me.

I start lapping her clit faster, sometimes slipping into her pussy. The older woman's moans encouraging me even more.

"I'm so close, keep going," she whines out. I start sucking on her nub, feeling how she totally lets go, grinding on my face.

"Keep it up, keep it up." She's panting by now. I slide my hand up her thigh, pinching it, which sends her over the edge.

Her entire body stills whilst she's moaning out her orgasm. I lick through the aftershocks, and then she rolls off me.

"That was amazing," Wanda says with a sleepy voice. Her head is on my chest, her eyes are closed.

"Go to sleep, you're tired." After I've said it, I notice she is already sleeping. I press a kiss to her forehead, taking one more look at her beauty before also drifting away to sleep

[whereianonymouslypostfics]

Anonymous 

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x reader

Word count: ~2.2k

Summary: Pietro receives a disturbing letter

A/N: This didn’t exactly turn out the way I wanted. I kind of hate it, but here it is anyway. 

Warnings: angst, mention of violence

Pietro leaned against his car in the parking lot beneath the compound anxiously tapping his foot as he waited for his sister to arrive. He'd called her earlier this morning asking if she could stop by to help him with something. She’d told him that she’d have to check with you but that she would let him know shortly. She’d sent him a text about half an hour ago saying she was leaving and Pietro’s been waiting here, trying to come up with his plan ever since.

He never thought he’d be in this situation. He thought he was a pretty good judge of character and nothing had ever tipped him off before now. He’d never had any concerns, but what he received today challenged everything he thought he knew to be true. He couldn’t say that he believed it, but he wouldn’t be a good brother if he just brushed this off.

He had to be sure.

When Bucky texted you to confirm that you were home you’d been a little confused. Nevertheless, you’d responded that you were on the third floor reading with Boone and would be for a while. You were actually closer to falling asleep, and now that Wanda was gone for a bit, hopefully not too long, you might end up taking a nap. You thought about smoking, but you had promised your wife you wouldn’t do that alone anymore. Last time you’d fallen asleep and woken up to a small fire and Wanda dumping water on you.

You wonder what Wanda’s been called in for, and you hope that it won’t take too long. The two of you had plans for dinner that you didn’t want to change. You two were going to cook together before watching a new show you’d been waiting almost two weeks to start. Wanda had wanted to finish one up first and you’d been patiently waiting for this night for days. You were very excited.

“Pietro, what’s going on?”

Wanda had arrived to the compound a few minutes ago, and after walking to the elevator in the parking lot she heard her brother call her name. She walked over to find him sitting on a car that he didn’t usually drive, and he ushered her towards him with a frown. He unlocked the doors and got in, and despite being confused Wanda followed his lead. It wasn’t until he asked for her phone that she had to figure out what was going on.

He shakes his head before holding his hand out, and she sighs before watching him take it and roll down his window. She opens her mouth to protest thinking he’s going to chuck it, but he puts it on the roof of the car before rolling the window back up.

“Seriously, Piet, why are you acting so--?”

“I need you to tell me the truth, and I needed to make sure no one was listening.”

Wanda frowns in confusion as she considers her brother’s words. It explains why they’re in a random car, and why he took her phone from her. That said, what could be so important that it couldn’t be discussed in his office? Did he really think it would be bugged?

Despite her confusion, she nods slowly as she waits for her brother to enlighten her. She hasn’t seen him this stressed in a while, and it’s starting to worry her.

“Okay, Piet. What is it?”

The older Maximoff takes a second to breathe in deeply before he comes out and says it. He hadn’t expected his morning to start like this. He’d figured he’d be busy finalizing the weapons deal before scolding Yelena for beating up too many recruits. He had not planned on having an intervention for his sister.

Pietro runs his hands through his hair with a sigh before he turns to Wanda with a blank expression. Wanda doesn’t think she could have guessed what he asks even if she was given all day to think about it.

“Are you safe? At home I mean?”

Wanda’s brows furrow in confusion and she nods immediately because why wouldn’t she be? She lives in a somewhat isolated house with an obscenely expensive security system and way too many guns. She also has a dog who doesn’t let someone he doesn’t know get within 5 feet of her. She’s very safe at home.

She says this and is surprised when Pietro seems frustrated by her answer. He shakes his head before realizing that he needs to be more direct. He hates to say it, but he needs to know the truth. He has to make sure he’s able to help Wanda if she needs it.

“No, Wands. I mean are you safe with Y/n?”

Wanda turns fully so she can look at her brother straight on. She’s scowling at him because what kind of question is this?

“Of course, I am. Why wouldn’t I be?”

Pietro doesn’t answer this as he recalls what he’d been told this morning. He scowls at the thought before pulling out the letter from his jacket pocket.

“So, she’s not hurting you?”

Wanda’s shocked speechless and she just stares at her brother for the longest time. Her brain is working in overdrive in an attempt to figure out what’s happened—why her brother is asking this. She eventually manages to look at the papers in his hand, and she wonders if her answers are there.

“Why the hell would you think that?”

Pietro’s still frowning as he waits for an actual answer that doesn’t come because Wanda’s too distracted.

“Tell me, yes or no.” “No, of course not! She’d never hurt me, Piet.”

Wanda’s frowning now because she’s truly upset by the idea that her brother could think this of you. You’ve been nothing but loving to her and you’d never raised a hand to her or anyone who didn’t hit you first. Pietro sighs again as he rubs his face in exhaustion. This is stressing him out and he really wishes he didn’t have to do this now. He starts to open the letter in his hands before shooting Wanda one last questioning look that just makes her angry.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, damn it! Now what the hell is that?”

Pietro unfolds the papers before glancing at them once more. He had found it on his desk this morning. It was addressed to him from an unknown source and it included a shocking amount of detail. The sender had mentioned that they were worried for his sister’s safety because they’d seen various signs of abuse. He didn’t see his sister on a daily basis, but this person seemed to, and they mentioned bruises and skittish behavior that made Pietro worry.

It wasn’t until they mentioned you as the perpetrator that Pietro realized what this could be. He didn’t want to believe that you’d hurt his sister because he’d seen how your relationship has grown over the years. You loved Wanda, and you’d never shown any indication of having any hidden frustrations or anger towards her. This was bullshit, but again, the brother in him had to be sure. It was just so detailed. There were dates mentioned and particular outfits discussed that covered various injuries, and Pietro had to cover his bases.

For this reason, he’d even sent Bucky to your house to make sure you didn’t do anything suspicious. There weren’t cameras in your house, but there were some in the garage and around it, and he’d asked his friend to look for anything concerning. So far he’d heard nothing, and he was starting to think that he probably should have let this go.

Looking at his sister’s face as she reads the letter just solidified this belief. Wanda nearly starts to rip it up as she finishes reading the detailed lies that someone’s written about you. She instead just thrusts it back in her brother’s hands with a scowl.

“What the hell is this?! None of that’s true, Pietro. How could you even think it is?”

Pietro puts his hands up in surrender as he shakes his head with a sigh. He didn’t believe it. He just needed to see his sister’s reaction to know that there was nothing he was missing. He owed both of you an apology, but for now he’d just like to get this over with.

“I just needed to make sure, Wanda. You’re my sister. I couldn’t just ignore this. No matter who it was I would have come to you.”

Pietro adds this last part as Wanda is about to come to your defense again. She’s shocked that someone sent this and that Pietro even entertained it. She understood his brotherly obligation to look out for her, but you weren’t capable of something like this. Pietro knew you well enough to believe this too. She supposed if the roles were reversed though she would have double checked as well. She may have taken a more violent approach depending on the circumstances.

“Jesus. Who sent this? You don’t have any idea?”

Pietro shook his head before claiming that the mail carrier had brought it and then his assistant Luce had left it on his desk. Wanda frowns at this but she’s going to help him figure it out. She would be tempted to forget it, but this person whoever the hell they were came after you. They tried to accuse you of doing a horrible thing and she wanted to know why.

“No, but I’ll look into it.”

Neither twin talks immediately as they think through all of the possibilities. Wanda’s scowling as she thinks about you and your lovable persona, your caring nature and the fact that the only time you’d hit her was when you were having a nightmare. You’d never do something like this to her, and whoever thought differently was a fool.

Pietro sighs again before he rolls down the window and retrieves Wanda’s phone. He gives it to her and squeezes her hand as he shoots her an apologetic smile.

“I’m sorry, Wands. I just had to ask. I love Y/n, you know that.”

Wanda sighs with a nod before she leans back in her seat and tries to relax. She had not expected this type of stress today and she does not appreciate it. She was supposed to be spending the day with you before cooking dinner and having a nice night in. She wonders what you’re doing right now, and as she does something occurs to her. She looks up to her brother with a worried frown that he quickly avoids.

“Piet, you didn’t tell anyone about this, did you?”

The idea of someone going to interrogate you or worse makes her start to panic, and she is about to call you when Pietro shakes his head.

“No…well I asked Bucky to check on her and some other things, but I didn’t give details.”

Wanda scowls before she shakes her head and grabs her keys. She needs to go home now.

“No. Call him off. It’s a waste of time.”

After an awkward goodbye, Wanda races home to make sure that you’re unbothered by anything but her short absence. She still can’t believe that someone would write her brother a letter full of lies. What was the point of that? Why did they want to paint you as the enemy? They honestly could have tried harder to come up with something believable. There were very few things you truly did that were problematic, but your occasional drug use was more believable than the idea of you hurting her.

When Wanda gets home, she near runs into the house to make sure you’re okay. She can’t find you immediately but she tries not to worry. Your car is still here and Boone’s things are as well, so you couldn’t have taken him for a walk. She walks up to the third floor and looks out onto the decks before spotting you with your dog at your feet.

You’re sleeping on one of the larger chairs that the two of you often cuddle in. Wanda can’t help but want to do this now, and she quickly takes off her shoes and drops her things next to Boone. He sits up in surprise but his tail starts wagging when he sees that it’s her. She pets him briefly before she lies down next to you with a sigh. You grumble in your sleep, but you’re quick to pull her toward you with a yawn. She smiles as she kisses your cheek and takes a long look at you before shaking her head.

You’re honestly one of the sweetest people she’s ever met despite the many obstacles you’ve had to overcome. You’re far to good for someone like her. She holds you close before burying her face in your neck.

“I love you so much.”

Wanda smiles when you mumble something in your sleep that she chooses to believe is you saying that you love her too. You both settle again, and before long the three of you are fast asleep.

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