#the stretches were her bouncing up and down on a squat | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

3terna15unshin3 · 1 year ago

Text

Then Because She Goes

Will you stay or wait?

★ Chapter 15 of 15, 8147 words

★ Matty Healy x Original Female Character

★ warnings: !!! mature content, minors please do not interact !!!, smut, oral (male receiving), unprotected sex, alcohol consumption

<< 14

12 August, 2022

With his hands rummaging through the plastic bag that had been sitting near his feet for the whole road trip, Matty searched for an empty bottle. He had downed one of Coke about an hour in, so he knew it should be in there—he just couldn’t seem to find it amongst the rest of the rubbish.

“You’re not weeing in my fucking car, Matty!” exclaimed Este, attempting to keep her eyes on the road but ultimately being drawn away into the man-child sitting next to her and all of his antics.

Matty continued sifting through the bag, ignoring her protests. “Please, it’s not like I’m gonna piss on your floor. And I’ve done it plenty of times before, so my aim is pretty good—Oh! Here it is,”

The Coke bottle from earlier found itself in his hands, preparing to be unscrewed. Matty had been complaining about his full bladder for the past half hour and the next place for Este to stop wasn’t for another 15 minutes. As soon as the make-shift toilet came into her view, she grabbed it and threw it over her shoulder and into the back seat. It bounced around and landed on the floor, out of sight. Out of sight, out of mind, Este hoped.

“Love! What was that for?!”

“Grow up and hold it in for a couple more minutes.” Este threatened, reaching to turn down the radio’s volume before studying their surroundings in her mirrors and making a risky lane-change. Matty smiled at her habit of needing to quiet down her surroundings in order to focus.

He scratched the back of his neck. “Dunno if I can,”

Her eyes rolled at him. “You’re going to have to.” She said sternly.

“Well, then drive faster!”

Trying to listen to his girlfriend’s orders, Matty laced his fingers together and politely sat his hands on his lap. Focus, Matty, he thought to himself. His leg bounced up and down feverishly, to distract from the pain in his abdomen.

They sat in silence for the last stretch of the road, with Este’s eyes set on the GPS that guided her, and Matty squirming in the passenger’s seat. He kept complaining; and she tuned him out playfully. At one point, he even began undoing the zipper to his trousers, pretending to use Este’s car as a toilet instead of waiting for them to arrive at the petrol station. Matty wouldn’t actually do it, and just wanted to make her laugh. It did—though she didn’t like to admit it.

When they did arrive, he barely let Este put the gear into park before he burst out of the door and ran into the Shell while she refilled the tank.

“All good now.” Matty said when he came back, smiling widely. “No bottle of piss for you today,” They high-fived in silly celebration.

“I think I didn’t want you to wee in here because I’m just jealous. Not even because I think it’s gross.” admitted Este, laughing as she spoke. “I like, anatomically, could not even pee in a bottle if I tried. We’d have to pull over and find a bush for me to squat in.”

He shrugged nonchalantly. “That’s one of the many perks of having a dick,”

“Many?” She gave him the side-eye.

His brows wiggled suggestively. “You know…”

“Shut up.”

A few more moments of navigating led Este and Matty to where they were staying for the next two nights. It was a quaint Airbnb—away from the hustle and bustle of the city, which they didn’t mind, since they’d driven up and could easily use Este’s car to get around. They pulled into its driveway and admired the summer Manchester flora that heaped around the brick walls, surprised at how charming the fairly cheap listing had paid off in person.

Matty brought in their bags while Este creeped around lightly, peeking around every corner and touching things with a gentle hand. She explored as if what she was discovering could break just by looking at it too hard. Her feet trod quietly through the kitchen, into the lounge where the sofa looked particularly comfortable, and then up to the bedroom; where he caught her.

“Is there a reason why you’re walking around like a small Victorian child who has heard a noise in the middle of the night?” He asked, mocking her playfully as he sat on the bed next to his bag.

Este laughed at his tireless description of the timidness that washed over her the minute they entered the house. “I don’t know. It’s not my house—I’m not going to just barge in and throw myself about. I want to be a good guest. You know how I am,”

“I mean, you don’t have to ‘throw yourself about’, but you also don’t have to lift the toilet seat as if there’s some sort of punishment if you let it make a noise,” said Matty.

“You saw that?” Embarrassment was laced through her voice.

“Mm-hmm,” he confirmed, chuckling, “It was very cute though.”

She cringed and sat next to him. Matty’s hand found her thigh that brushed against his as their weight made the mattress cave in a bit. “It’s weird to pay to stay in someone else’s place in a city that feels like home, you know?” Este explained, leaning her head on his shoulder.

The past three years she had spent living in London didn’t waiver her Manchester pride. Este loved being a Londoner—the city was fruitful and ever-changing. It was the hub of her passions and the home of her favourite person. But, it didn’t fret her homesickness from being present; encouraging her and Matty to travel back to their hometown quite frequently. Mostly to visit Este’s parents, or Cate and Georgia.

This time around, they drove up to the North of England to celebrate with the latter couple at their housewarming party. Este was meant to come into the city earlier to help pack up the flat and move everything to their new place, but she was swamped with a head-cold so bad that her weekly column submission was almost submitted late. And it was never late.

It took almost two and a half years to work her way up to writing full pieces for The Guardian. Este spent a long time doing odd jobs and minor assistant editing before eventually getting promoted to co-writing some fluffy pieces with a team full of other writers. But then, at the beginning of the year, she was encouraged to join their literature review group. So now—every Wednesday—Este was a published and working literary journalist. Constantly reading books, and taking whoever flipped open The Guardian through the journey that each novel took her on. It was the second reason she couldn’t bear to leave London permanently; since being close to its headquarters and to where business flourished made work the easiest. The first was Matty, of course.

“I’ve been thinking about that, actually.” he started. “How it’s silly to come here so often and have to arrange a place to stay each time. Maybe we should just get a place here already,”

His suggestion intrigued her. Este liked the idea of having a home in both cities. “Like a little flat, or something?”

“Yeah, if we can find a good one. Just for us.”

“I’m in.”

The shower was cramped and its water pressure was next to non-existent, but alas; both Matty and Este had washed up in preparation for the party that evening. His curls hung damp and defined, while her hair stayed spun into a towel. They got ready—taking their sweet time and dawdling around—content to be doing any mundane task while having one another to do it with.

Both of them learned to appreciate the domestic side of being together after Este moved into Matty’s cold and rigid home, ultimately warming it up with the tenderness of her belongings and maximalist aesthetic. They met in the middle, somehow, and his home—now theirs—couldn’t be more reflective of their personalities. Living together was a challenge almost as identically as being apart was. But it was worth it.

Matty showered before her, so he sat on the bed and slid his party clothing over his towel-dried skin as Este emerged from the toilet. She let her raven hair free and tumble in wet gatherings near her face; still not dressed, and looking as if she wasn’t ever planning to do so.

A pair of cream boy short style knickers hugged her hips and a matching bralette supported her upper half. Este sauntered past him and sat at the wooden vanity where she had emptied all of her beauty products onto when unpacking. Matty’s eyes tracked her movements.

He didn’t say anything, at first. Just continued to button his shirt and fold up its sleeves while she started to put on some makeup. She opened and closed every product, Matty still watching, while delicately bouncing her fingertips to her cheeks and combing mascara through her long lashes. Este could feel his eyes burning into her skin—knowing that he was studying her summer tan that stood bolder next to her pale undergarments, and appreciating the rosiness she added to her face.

“What are you wearing? For tonight?” Matty asked after sensing that she was wrapping up at the vanity.

Este looked at him through his reflection in the mirror, smiling. “I brought a dress, it’s hung up in the closet since I didn’t want it to crease. The blue one.”

She tried to explain which one she was talking about, but since she was in need of putting it on anyway, she just got up to go fetch it. Matty took her spot in the now vacant chair, to lean forward and use the vanity’s lights to figure out his hair. He considered taking a dollop of gel and combing it back for the convenience, but he knew that Este liked when it came to the front and framed his forehead. And Matty liked doing things the way she liked them. So, he left it alone.

“See?” Stepping back into view, Este held the blue garment up in front of her barely clothed body for him to judge. He nodded and looked it up and down. There was a moment of silence as she waited for Matty to voice his approval. “What do you think?”

“It’s nice.”

She dramatically dropped her free hand down to her side. “Nice? That’s all?” The other threw the hanger and dress flat onto the bed.

His hand waved her over, silently asking for her to step closer to him—and once she was in reach, Matty hooked his finger into the waistband of her underwear to pull and close the gap between them, wrapping his arm around the skin of her waist. He met her gaze, needing to tilt his head upwards since he was still sat on the vanity chair and was eye-level with her abdomen.

“I was just sort of hoping you’d look like this all night,”

As she felt the warmth of his hand graze back and forth across her spine, Este reached down to stick her own into his still damp curls. “Well, get your mind out of the gutter then.” He leaned back into her touch. “Plus, I know you couldn’t stand anyone else seeing me in this besides you.” The suggestive smirk could be heard in her voice.

Matty laughed and raised his eyebrows in agreement. “That’s a good point.”

She was about to take a seat on his lap; but her ringtone interrupted the thought. Both of their heads turned to where the sound came from, quickly realising that Este was getting a call. He laid a quick peck on her hip bone before she stepped away to answer it.

The call was switched to speakerphone after she read who was on the other end. “Lolo, hi.” greeted Este. “We haven’t even been away from her for half a day and you’re calling already? Should I be worried?”

“No, no. Nothing to worry about. We’re having fun together so far!” José explained. “I just wanted to make sure the car journey went alright.”

“Yeah, everything is good. Made it over in one piece. We’re going to leave for Cate’s in maybe an hour or so.” Este put her phone down to remove the dress from its hanger and slip it onto her body, while walking back to Matty and turning around to let him zip her up. It sat on her effortlessly and served as the perfect casual summery outfit; while still fitting for the late night out they had ahead of them.

“Tell her and G I say congrats on the house.” A bark was heard in the background. “From me and Keiko,” he finished with a chuckle.

José called from Matty and Este’s London house, staying over while they were away and looking after the puppy. Keiko (their four month old German Shepherd whose name came from the quirky Convenience Store Woman character that held precious memories for them both) erupted in more excitable barks through the phone after hearing her name.

“I will. She’s doing okay, yeah?” asked Este.

“Of course. But I’m sure she misses you guys. Right, Keiko? Where’d mummy and daddy go?” he started, egging the clueless pup on, and making the two on the phone to cringe at his choice of nicknames. “I’m also a bit worried that I’ve been giving her too many treats.”

Este’s eyes widened. “How many have you given her?!”

She put on a pair of black boots, while Matty held up his two shoe options. Her finger pointed to the black Converse out of instinct—always loving the classic shoe on her boyfriend as opposed to something dressier. He agreed and began undoing their laces.

“She’s just being a good puppy and I want her to know that,” her granddad responded defensively. “Your Lola would have been way worse than me. She’d give in and let Keiko walk her down the street instead of the other way round. So you should be thankful it’s just me,”

The conversation made Matty laugh; both of nervousness, for the well-being of his dog at home, and also of pure adoration for José. What a legend.

“Can I have the phone, love?” he asked, before Este handed it to him and watched him bring it close to his mouth. “Hey. It’s Matty. I like spoiling her too, Lolo. Don’t worry. I get it.” Matty said in a hushed voice.

Her jaw dropped open and the two men rejoiced, both basking in their soft spots for Keiko. “Don’t enable him.” scolded Este. She tried to be angry, but she loved them too bad to care all that much.

They took an Uber to the party after considering that they’d probably have too many drinks to be able to sober up and drive back. And as the city zoomed past them, they watched it through the backseat windows—both fantasising about their hypothetical second house in their second home. What it would look like, where in Manchester it would sit. Each of them pointed at different buildings periodically, pitching their favourites to the other. “Those ones seem too modern from the outside,” or ”This area’s rubbish,” or “Are you serious? Would you live there?” were a few short phrases exchanged between them.

The happy couple in their new house greeted Matty and Este with excited hugs. In the corner, on a sofa and catching up with the other parents, sat Este’s mother and father. Cate insisted on inviting them to give her own parents some company; the pair growing close after her and Este’s long friendship. It was a bit embarrassing for Este to learn that her parents had beaten her there, but she was also happy to see them and be able to give them a squeeze.

“There you guys are! We’ve been waiting for you!” said Este’s dad, giving Matty a firm handshake and then wrapping his arms around his daughter. A series of small hi’s and hello’s were thrown around the room as the lively music filled the air.

Percy planted a firm kiss into Matty’s cheek and followed suit with Este’s. “How’s Keiko doing back at home?“ she wondered.

“I think she’s pretty good so far,” responded Matty, “José’s spoiling her rotten—but we were expecting that. Just miss her already, don’t we E?” He rubbed her hip with the hand that was draped around her.

Este nodded with a pout on her face, thinking about their puppy and how badly protective they were of her. “100%. Should’ve brought her here and let her christen the new house by weeing all over your floor!” she joked.

“You wouldn’t dare,” sneered Cate as Georgia shoved a G&T and glass of red wine into their hands almost immediately, eager to get the night started.

“This is my favourite room in the whole house, E. Look. You’ll love it. I think of you every time I step inside,” the redhead declared as she led the two around for a tour. “It’s not totally finished, but you’ll get it.”

A twist of the doorknob showed them the home office. Cate and Georgia had put together every book they owned and shelved them charismatically. They surrounded the window, framed the desks, and sat in piles on the floor. Greenery of all sorts sat on top of them, and even hung from the ceiling. The rug was warm and welcoming. It was almost as if they captured all of Este’s favourite things and stuck them within the same walls. She could only imagine how lively it must look in the sunlight.

“God, guys! This is lovely,” Matty gushed. “You shouldn’t have shown it to us, though. I think Este will just be mad that I haven’t let her decorate our whole house like this.”

The look on her face confirmed his comment, as Este sheepishly stared. “Can I move in?” Everyone laughed.

Making their way back to where all of the guests remained—mingling and chatty—Georgia poured them another. Matty bopped his head excitedly at the tasteful music and the loud conversation continued. Smiles were bright. The drinks were drank. But as the hour grew late, only the guests who were up for a fun night stuck around; while the few who stopped by to see the house and congratulate the couple began to fizzle out.

So, Este’s parents started to bid their goodbyes. They were planning on making a trip down to London to meet Keiko soon enough, so parting wasn’t as difficult as usual. Some last embraces were squeezed in as they prepared to take off, but before they could, the song erupting from the speakers caught Matty’s attention and encouraged him to hold Percy’s arm back for a moment.

“I don’t know what it is that you’ve done to me,”

SWV’s velvety vocals sung their classic song, Weak, and since Matty had always bonded with Este’s mother over their love for 90’s R&B, he couldn’t let her slip out before dancing with him first. She smiled giddily and took his hand as he guided her to an open space in the kitchen. Their socks on the spick and span tile allowed them to move freely, swaying and tapping their feet to the beat. He twirled Percy around, raising her hand that lightly gripped his up above her head.

They took turns serenading the lyrics to each other, Matty’s eyebrows furrowed with passion, fingers still laced together. Laughter was shared between them whenever the other did a particularly funny dance move or embarrassingly messed up the words. The smiles never left their faces, while Alfonso and Este watched from the door, smiling likewise.

“Can’t explain why your love, it makes me weak.” sounded the final line of the tune, Matty diverting his attention back at his girl as he sang it quietly. He sent a quick wink Este’s way afterwards, making her roll her eyes initially, but inevitably forcing a wide grin out of her while her stomach fluttered. Percy watched silently as her and Matty’s brief kitchen dance party came to an end, heart warm with adoration, physically feeling the love he had for her daughter—and vice versa. With her hand now folded in Alfonso’s, the couple wrapped up with a new round of goodbyes, and Cate showed them out.

When a handful more of drinks were eventually downed, it was shocking to suddenly hear the conversation turn professional. Cate found herself sitting next to Matty, her current higher up (the new album called for some extra brains for art direction and graphic design—so onto the team she came), discussing the importance of typography.

“I really like the idea of keeping the really simple and sophisticated serif text, even with tour merch. It’s chic.” she rambled.

He nodded, agreeing. “It’ll fit with the aesthetic, for sure. I did want to incorporate a couple of more grungier designs though. Maybe something hand-drawn or messy. More abstract, maybe.”

“Sure, sure. That makes sense to me. Patty may have some good material for those types of designs. A good balance between both should work out well, since—”

“You know you guys aren’t on the clock, right?” Este butted in, taking a sip of her gin and tonic.

Cate snapped out of it and her cheeks grew rosy. “Sorry,” she apologised, “But honestly, the North American tour starts in less than 3 months, and what’s already done for the singles and for festival season won’t even fill half of a headline merch table… So we’ve gotta crack on with it asap.”

“Then talk about it when you’re sitting in an office and can click around on your iPad, not when you’re pissed off champagne and hosting a house party!” exclaimed Georgia. The small circle of guests erupted in chuckled at her fair point. “I bet you two couldn’t quit the work-talk for more than 45 minutes,”

Matty raised his hands in the air defensively. “Hey, my work is my life. You know that, Georgia.” he said with a grossly confident and purposefully pretentious tone.

She rolled her eyes in response. “God, you’re the worst.” But, her hard and sarcastic facade broke when the two erupted into smiles and shoved one another in the shoulder gleefully. “Speaking of work though, why didn’t you bring any of the guys along? Don’t think I’ve seen them since we came down for Este’s birthday. Shame,”

“They’re all very busy boys,” answered Este. “And were gutted that they couldn’t make it tonight.”

Matty nodded, wrapping his arm behind Este’s shoulders and letting his hand find the back of her neck. His fingers weaved through the hair that covered it to gently caress the soft skin right below her scalp.

“They usually jump at the chance to come up to the city whenever they’re given a reason, so I guess they just don’t like you lot enough…” he joked.

“You better watch yourself, Healy. G might cut you off if you keep at it.” warned Cate humourously.

The warm conversation continued, though the couple of the night left frequently to mingle with the other guests. Any time it was just Matty and Este—when they knew nobody’s eyes were on them—he snuck small kisses onto the skin behind her ear. She sat her palm dangerously high up on his thigh, making her giggle after seeing how quickly his muscles tensed in reaction. The alcohol helped escalate the heat between them; but also allowed them to cool off almost immediately whenever Cate and Georgia ducked back into their attention.

Despite their consistent touchiness that persisted even through the Uber journey back to the Airbnb, they passed out cold as soon as they squeezed into the double bed that wasn’t theirs. The fact that they never seemed to party as crazy as they expected themselves to became increasingly frequent. Este liked to make fun of his age, always teasing that he had been handling his alcohol worse and worse (and going to bed earlier and earlier) as he progressed into his thirties; though she only trailed a couple years behind. So, Matty rolled his eyes when they snuggled tightly into the white sheets—both on the extremely tired comedown of being tipsy—and Este interrupted the silence filling the room.

“Is grandfather too sleepy or can I give you a kiss goodnight?

“Not after calling me grandfather, you can’t.”

13 August, 2022

Este awoke early the next morning, and Matty followed not long afterwards. He was still snoring when she first looked over at him, eyes peacefully shut and mouth slightly agape.

When she scooted upwards—now sitting with her back against the headboard—to scroll away on her phone, he felt her movements and internally whined at their lessening contact. To gain the comfort he craved at the start of each day, he rolled over to her and nestled his cheek next to her arm. Este quietly chuckled at his neediness and pulled her arm away; but only to use her hand to pet the stubble growing on his jaw, moving slowly up and down then back up into his messy hair.

Stopping for a second to quickly push her own hair to one side, not liking the sensation of it crowding her neck, she heard a low hum from Matty. He was clearly enjoying her touch.

“Morning, love.” said Este.

He groaned with exhaustion as a response, throwing his arm around her lap.

“You sleep okay?”

His eyes still hadn’t opened. “Surprisingly very well.” Matty squeezed out of his dry throat, words coming through with a low rasp.

She set her phone back onto the bedside table to give him her full attention. “Me too. I think it’s the tiny bed—forced us to cram closer together, and you keep me warm. Maybe we should downsize at home,” Este suggested, half-joking.

An eye finally peeled open, and then the other, and he saw her for the first time that morning. Este’s untamed hair was his favourite, immediately studying its waves and smiling to himself.

“It was cosy,” agreed Matty, sitting up to match her position, “Don’t you like having more room, though, You know, for other things?”

There was a twinkle in his eye, and a tone in his voice that she could recognise anywhere. So, she egged him on.

“Like… What kinds of things?”

Matty suddenly felt very awake. “Just the things I dreamt about last night,” he teased.

One step ahead of him, Este swiftly swung her leg over his lap to straddle him.

“Then tell me about them.”

He had the feeling she didn’t want him to actually tell her anything, as the very moment her words slipped out, Este’s mouth was on his. Slow, and gentle. Her hands cupped either side of Matty’s jaw, while his grazed under the hem of her shirt and felt up her back. She moaned into his mouth at his tender touch—rolling her hips back and forth lazily.

Matty peeled off the oversized tee that covered her, leaving only the thin cloth of his briefs and the lace of her knickers between their bodies. Opening his eyes, he looked down to see her grinding into him while he pulled his lips away from hers. Mouth wide and jaw slack, whining. He throbbed at the sight of it.

The feeling of his eyes on her turned Este on. How they were glued to her in a daze, with pure voyeuristic pleasure, as if it was the first time they were laid on her. She wanted to please Matty. Put on a show. So that he wouldn’t dare look away.

To do just that, Este continued using his crotch to get herself off, the bulge in his pants making perfect contact with her still clothed clit. She steadied herself—hand on the headboard—and whispered his name with desire while Matty’s hands inched forward to work at her chest. Her hardened nipples rolled between his fingers, making her shiver.

Reconnecting their lips, he slipped his tongue against hers while her hand trailed down the centre of his chest. It moved painfully slowly. But soon enough, Este took her hand into his underwear, gripping him boldly. The friction between them left him hard, and leaking. Matty gasped and shuddered when she pumped him a couple of times.

“Baby—“ he said against her mouth, his words hesitating to let a groan lowly, “The sheets. Will we have time to run the laundry before we have to leave?”

“They’ll wash ‘em.” Este threw out the short response, her head hazy and preoccupied with determination.

“What happened to wanting to be a ‘good guest’?” he taunted.

She climbed down his torso to slip his only piece of clothing down his legs, and he helped by kicking them off.

“Oh I’m a good guest alright,” she defended, kissing his upper thigh and still stroking his cock, “Don’t worry. I’ll keep you nice and clean,”

Matty twitched at her words, not getting the time to think before her lips sunk down on him. He held himself up by his elbows, the muscles in his stomach making it hard to stay steady.

She took him in liberally, her nose almost coming in contact with his pelvis as he hit the back of her throat. “Fuck,” he moaned, watching Este’s eyes lock with his as she looked up through her eyelashes.

Swallowing around him and beginning to bob her head up and down, she squeezed her legs together. It grew increasingly wet in her panties, as she tasted Matty’s precum and witnessed his face twist in euphoria. A moan escaped and vibrated over him when she attempted at relieving some pressure by rolling her hips down onto the bed.

Este found a lazy rhythm, teasing him cruelly, making his hips rise with eagerness. Every time he buckled upward and his length grazed her throat, she moaned, driving Matty even crazier.

His chest heaved up and down when she pulled back, swirling her tongue around his tip, and using her hand to stroke his shaft. Este could see his eyes squeeze shut, brows furrowed in pain as she took him deeper once again.

“Stop,” Matty begged, “I don’t want to come alone,”

She didn’t protest. He dragged Este back up to straddle above his cock and kiss her hungrily, her face messy with spit, lips swollen from sucking him. His hand then found her clit, rubbing with perfect speed and pressure, drawing pornographic sounds out of her mouth.

“Matty,” she praised.

“Are you this wet just from taking me in your mouth?” Matty whispered against the skin on her neck. He licked and nipped at it, surely leaving a mark. The taste of what was left of last night’s perfume transferred onto his tongue.

“Always, for you,” Her voice was breathy and desperate. She couldn’t stand another minute of being empty, clenching greedily around nothing. “Just fuck me already.”

Este’s command had him obeying immediately, guiding his tip to her entrance and allowing her to slowly sink down onto him. His mouth fell open, feeling the tightness of her cunt envelope him in pleasure.

She sat there for a second, eyes shut in concentration. Matty filled her up graciously and hit every spot just the way she needed. Raising back up, then lowering down, Este began riding his length with her knees buried in the sheets. She rested her palms onto his inked torso to stabilise herself and persist at her skilled movements.

Matty watched her chest bounce repeatedly and bit his lip at the view he had from beneath her. The pink started shining through on Este’s cheeks, face hot and flushed from the pressure building in her lower stomach. Her skin glistened and was sticky to the touch. So was his. She brought up a hand to comb the hair out of her face, leaving it there and tugging at her own locks near her scalp.

“You look so fucking good—feel so fucking good,” Matty intensely complimented, through a groan, seeing her smile briefly and open her eyes to gaze down at him.

She felt her climax building as she continued using him to fuck herself. Este brought her right hand up to her clit, indulging in as much pleasure as possible to bring her there. Her pace was sufficient, especially for Matty—who sat, fucked out and a moaning mess below her—but Este wanted more. So, she began speeding up, still fingering furiously at her bundle of nerves, pushing hard and panting.

Wanting to make her feel good and give her knees a rest, Matty wrapped his arms around her to make her hips stationary. And without warning, he fucked upwards. Repeatedly, and relentlessly.

“Shit,” Este cried, “Keep going.”

He listened, twitching inside of her as he chased his orgasm too. The sound of his hips snapping up into hers boomed loudly through the room; now full of hot breath and the smell of sex.

Este gasped as he hit a spot deep within her that sent rushes of unwavering pleasure through every inch of her body, over and over. The combination of that and her fingers on her clit sent her over the edge, chanting a string of Matty’s name sensually into his ear, along with every word of profanity her mind brushed by.

She shuddered on top of him, beginning to go limp with exhaustion, but Matty didn’t stop. There was no chance for her to come down from her orgasm when his thrusts only grew harder and deeper.

His lip remained pinned between his teeth, pain written all over his face. With Este’s face now buried in his neck, overwhelmed by the sheer bliss of her climax and how Matty’s cock incessantly pounded into her sensitive post-orgasm core, he shut his eyes to bask in the sensation.

Every stroke brought him closer, and it grew harder and harder to keep up at his pace. Matty felt her tighten around him, making his thrusts grow distraught.

“I’m gonna come, E,” he muttered, voice shaky.

But right before he could (she knew his body so well that he didn’t even have to warn her for her to know), Este pulled off of him, springing downwards to take his whole length past her lips.

The sudden warmth of her slick mouth and vibration of the hum she expelled had Matty coming up her throat. She rose to let it spill onto her tongue, letting him watch the cum string out of his tip; but quickly closed her lips around him again, sinking back down and bottoming out.

Este kept him there for a couple of seconds as his moans slowed to a stop and he caught his breath. Then, she tightly pulled her lips off of his cock—cleaning up his seed, and swallowing it as promised.

“See? No mess.” Este said, a sheepish yet exhausted look on her face.

Matty forced her back up to lay on his chest, bringing her in for one last sloppy kiss. She tasted like him.

They then forced themselves out of bed, for the first time yet that day, to wash up and gather their things for the eleven o’clock checkout time. The shower ran only once, to bathe them both and save time, followed by Matty stuffing his dirty clothes back into his duffle bag. He then flipped on the kettle and sunk some pieces of bread into the toaster while Este pottered around, trying to leave the house exactly how they found it.

Matty carefully spread a thin layer of butter and then another of Marmite on each slice, setting aside two for Este and nibbling on the remaining two himself. They’d initially been rushing, thinking that what they had left to sort would take a while, but their single night in the Airbnb remained a fairly simple and effortless stay. There was still over an hour before they had to be out. So, Matty pulled open the book he was reading, actively trying to do so instead of spiralling on Instagram or chatting shit on Twitter (as of lately).

He waited for Este, assuming she’d hear the kettle go off and join him at the small kitchen table, but her footsteps creaked on the floor between the bedroom and through to the toilet instead of coming nearer.

“Darling, you should eat,” called Matty, listening for her response. He knew that by this time of the morning she’d be hungry.

Este’s ears perked, grabbing one last used flannel and throwing it into the dirty laundry hamper. Her empty stomach drew her round the few corners to reach the kitchen from the bedroom, seeing Matty sat with one leg folded over the other. He sipped on his tea, flipping a page to his novel, then felt her come into view.

She smiled at the small plate and cup of tea he arranged for her. “Look at you, making me toast.”

Matty chuckled, watching her take a bite. He then uncrossed his legs, welcoming Este to reach one of hers from her own chair and drape it across his. Crunches of toast could be heard, along with the swipes of his fingers across the pages of Mayflies.

“How’re you finding it?”

“It’s a beaut, so far. Feels sort of silly reading about stupid young lads causing trouble round Manchester. Bit too familiar. It’s like reading a caricature of my own life,” he responded with a laugh.

“Gorgeous writing though, don’t you think?” posed Este, leaving her bitten crusts on her plate with no plan of eating them.

Matty picked one up and tossed it into his mouth. “Oh, 100%. I mean, this one—where is it?” He began turning back to try and find a certain quote. “Here it is; ‘For a second I floated into privacy: the faraway mood of exhilaration that comes with excess, and I loved the excess, and loved the seeming permissiveness of that night. Who would I call, I wondered, if I stepped into the phone box? And the answer—so free of regret—was no one. I had no one to call and was quite glad about it.’ ” He braced his heart with his hand while reciting the text aloud.

She stood up and picked up their now empty plates, quickly rinsing them in the sink and setting them to dry.

“Absolutely lush,” Este reacted. “There’s a line that I haven’t stopped thinking of since I read it, where it says ‘They say you know nothing at eighteen. But there are things you know at eighteen that you will never know again.’ A quote like that can feel random with a moment that isn't necessarily retrospective—and this one isn’t—but something about its placement was so effective. Blew me away,”

He agreed, and went on. “I loved reliving the naivety of feeling like you have everything and everyone you need right where you are. Pure, proud friendships. How young and freeing is that? God, almost makes me emotional.”

A grin sat on her face. “I’m so tired of you being so profound about literature. Like, this is literally my job.” she complained. “Want to write for the column this week instead of me submitting my write up?”

“Pfft,” Matty shook his head. “You’re forgetting that I didn’t even pass my English GCSE.”

Wrapping up their small breakfast and doing a couple of rounds to make sure they weren’t forgetting anything, they eventually packed their stuff back into Este’s car boot and took off. Matty drove this time, agreeing before the trip that she’d do the journey in and he’d bring them back. But, before cruising onto the A5103 home to London, they headed into the city, to the northern quarter. There was one more stop to make.

Familiar pubs and shops filled them with nostalgia as they drove past and found a spot to park. They stopped a ways away from their destination, wanting to soak up the surprisingly tropical (for England, at least) weather and walk the rest of the way. Left, right, left, right, stepped their feet on the pavement in unison.

The silence they moved in encouraged Este to think about how rare the leisurely and quiet moments between the two of them would get as the year went on. She was grateful that she at least had the time off work to come along for their comeback shows in Japan for Summer Sonic. But, after that, Matty’s busyness would snowball, and by autumn, he’d be gone for months at a time to tour the new album.

“It’s sad that we won’t be able to do this for a while. When everything starts.”

Matty looked over at her, letting go of her hand to pull her into his side, wrapping her shoulder now enveloped by his arm.

“We’ve still got another week until Japan,” he pointed out.

“That’s no time at all, in my head. Plus, you’ll be swamped with more rehearsals all the way up until the day we leave.” she pouted.

“I know, I know,” said Matty, squeezing her briefly. “It’s going to be weird, too. Since we haven’t been on the road for quite a while. Been coddled by getting to have you around all the time.”

He wasn’t making her feel any better. “I’m going to miss you.” Este told him, even though he already knew.

“Don’t start missing me yet. I’m right here.” he said with a laugh as Este snuck her arm around his waist. Left, right, left, right. “Think of it like this—what did you say that one time, ages ago? We’ll be under the same sky, or whatever. Something cheesy like that.”

She bumped his hip at the sound of Matty teasing her, making him stumble slightly out of rhythm. But their feet found unison again.

“That was what, three years ago now? More? Your memory is scary.” Este commented.

“Hey—to be fair—those first days we spent together were like the best days of my life at the time. I thought about you saying that line to me for, like, months after it happened.” he added.

“Sap.”

A Starbucks rounded the corner and an elderly couple walked out. Este studied them as they approached; the man holding out a hot cup for the woman after propping the door open for her. She took it, linked her arm within his, and then took a sip.

Este expected to see her smile or thank the man, but instead a grimace appeared on her face.

“Taste’s shite, Harold.” The old woman complained.

Matty and Este held in their laughs and pretended that they didn’t hear it. Probably was the earl grey, Este thought, replaying the time she first introduced Matty to her grandmother, and how she talked of its flavour in distaste, much like the woman in front of them.

Their feet then carried them across the road. One of the signs on the corner of the intersection read Gore, the other Piccadilly. And they stepped into Greenhouse Books.

The orange carpet screamed with familiarity. Luckily, it was the time of day where Sam was still in—though preparing to head out upon the closer’s arrival—so he greeted them both with a warm hello (a tight hug for Este and firm handshake for Matty).

It was nearing three years since she bittersweetly resigned from the job she held dear to her heart, but also over eight since she’d first been hired. So, her and her ex-boss remained in touch, always up for a chat whenever Este was in town and eager to keep up with where her writing had taken her thus far. The shop was empty; so there they stood, hands still laced together, catching up with Sam. Though reminiscing and thinking of how long she spent revolving her life around Greenhouse made her feel a bit old.

Then, Matty and Este ventured into the shelves, separately, carrying out the purpose of stopping by; to buy a couple of books.

Matty sifted through each book carefully, picking one up with a loud green cover. Its art was charming and the poetic words across it jumped out at him, so he began to look further into it. But, after reading the blurb on the back cover, it seemed familiar.

He remembered that Este had reviewed it, back in June. Matty read every piece she wrote. She’d called it ‘cocky’, and claimed that the author wasn’t interested in his own characters. So, he shoved the lime coloured novel back into the gap left by him picking it up in the first place. One of the perks of loving someone whose opinions on literature were not only trusted by him, but also by a good chunk of the country who read the paper every morning, was that it helped him know which books to shove back in the gap and which books to give a chance.

This time of year was when the shelves were the fullest. Knowing that, Este felt eager to see some different titles instead of the ones she’d gotten to know so well. But truthfully, she realised that it had been a while since she actually knew the shop at all.

Its charm and ambitious spirit never changed—but plenty of books she remembered staring at years ago had inevitably sold, now no longer there. That’s how stores tend to operate, Este thought to herself embarrassingly. A couple of bays had swapped places. And her system for keeping the stationery supplies behind the counter organised had clearly gone out the window (which she noticed every time she came to visit and peered at its mess).

As much as being there made her miss the simplicity and comfort that Greenhouse served her for so long, it also only made Este prouder to be right where she was. How something so peaceful and passion-driven could grow to such a large scale. How it led her to the love of her life.

It felt liberating to have to search to find the poetry section. She couldn’t even recall where it had been back when she was still employed there.

Coincidentally, it was stationed right beside the small shelf of literary criticism that Matty had his eyes on. Her hand trailed horizontally along his lower back when she passed by to get to the desired genre, and she planted a kiss between his shoulder blades. They silently stood—side by side—with necks tilted to the right to read what each spine entailed. They browsed for a while, eventually witnessing Sam take off and leave the shop under one of his employee’s supervision.

She was a polite, bookish girl in her mid-twenties who had Matty and Este plenty of times over the years. So, when they finally had their picks in hand and walked up to the till, she sneakily (and as per her boss’s instruction) gave them a hefty discount. Este knew she would, and didn’t have the heart to protest, so she just purposefully paid in cash and rushed out of the door while shouting a grateful goodbye—not allowing her to give back any change. Chimes were heard as it opened and then shut again, one novel in each of their hands.

Then, with no exchange of conversation, they handed their book to the other. Matty’s for Este, and Este’s for Matty. It was an unspoken rule between the two of them—buying books with the other’s interest instead of their own—the endless stacks of novels upon novels living with them in their London home showing as evidence.

And as they walked away, Matty’s free hand found Este’s, the way it always did, and their once divergent stories continued to blend into one.

The End

#matty healy #matty healy fanfiction #matty healy x oc #the 1975 fanfiction #the 1975 #matty healy fic #tbsg #matty healy smut #smut #Spotify

68 notes · View notes

let-us-cultivate-our-garden · 2 years ago

Note

Envy was the most sadistic of the Homunculi in Fullmetal Alchemist, bragging about things such as starting the Ishvalan Civil War, indirectly creating Scar, and killing fan favorite Maes Hughes, but Arakawa gave them a bit of complexity and the best villain death ever

When dealing the final blow with major villains/antagonists, you actually have to defeat them twice; the first is the actual physical defeat and the second is the defeat of their ideals or beliefs.

Envy's driving force was how superior they thought they were to "weak" humans; the irony of course (and as their name indicates) they are envious of humans for their inner strength and morality. So you have a character that is secretly deeply insecure and they commit atrocities to mask that insecurity. So how do you truly defeat this type of villain?

Unmask them. Reveal the inner weakness. How pathetic they truly they are. Make them realize the enormity of their actions.

This is why Envy's death resonates: we have the catharsis of watching the haughty character be broken down, to reveal the rot underneath yet at the same time there is a sense of pity because Envy's fears are relatable. It does not make Envy a "good" person by any stretch of the imagination but (ironically) a more human character. The defeat of the Homunculi also rebukes Father's goal of achieving perfection with his artificial humans; by exposing the frailties of his creations, you expose the frailties of the main villain.

The Owl House does not do this with Belos; he is killed but his ideology is not, he dies thinking himself in the right. This could work but only if you show why Belos is so committed to his cause to the bitter end and while the show has hints of this, it's so vague that it's practically meaningless and is his backstory is never paid off. There's no final confrontation between Luz and Belos about the roles they have played in shaping the isles and how Luz let go of her childish fantasies while Belos did not and how it destroyed him.

The show also never gets into the forces that made Belos; he's just always been like that and having him be the cause of all the problems on the BI seems to say that if you remove the One Bad Man then everything will be ok. No one else who supported Belos ever gets any kind of comeuppance, none of the Coven Heads, not Odalia, and we only see Kiki in one shot helping rebuild the school so I guess we're okay with her now?

Belos' death is just disappointing all around; Luz's silence would be amazing as it would indicate that she no longer allows him to control her, except that Belos never had any influence over her. She's always rebuked his advances at commonality and her main angst in season 3 over "helping" him is so narratively weak and so lacking in tension that it's laughable.

When you have a character like Belos, especially after building up how delusional he is and the circumstances as to what made him, there needs to be a proper conclusion in which he is confronted with his delusions and lies, that he wasted his life for nothing. That his goals were childish and stupid and it all could have been avoided. Instead we get a pithy one-liner and an anti-climactic foot stomping. How bold.

(and also, don't tell me that Belos can't bounce back from his apparent "death." The man reformed himself from a single droplet and a little acid rain and some boots aren't going to do squat).

#asks #the owl house #toh critical #toh criticism #emperor belos #philip wittebane #fma

80 notes · View notes

loftylockjaw · 4 months ago

Text

TIMING: 1999, 2004, 2024 LOCATION: New Orleans, Louisiana | Wicked's Rest, Maine SUMMARY: Wyatt celebrates his birthday.

— “Ahh, my sweet boy, look at you! So grown up!” The nine year old stood proudly with his fists on his hips, rolling onto the balls of his feet and bouncing excitedly as his mother straightened up again, pencil in hand. Whipping around to face the door frame, he gave a squeal of delight to see how much he’d grown since his last birthday.

“I’m gonna get taller than you, mama! Feet n’ feet taller!” He stretched his hands up over his head, causing his mother to laugh as she wrote a small 9 over the line on the wood, her bright gaze sliding upward as she brought the pencil thoughtfully to her lips, tapping it there.

“What you think, cher… here? Will you reach all the way here?” She pointed to a spot on the doorframe and Wyatt scoffed, waving his hands at her.

“Higher, mama! All the way to the top!”

“You hear that, Gustave? All the way to the top!” His father sat smiling at them from the living room, laughing and shaking his head.

“I believe it,” he chuckled, closing his book at getting up from the worn out couch, crossing the room to meet his wife and child in the doorway, ruffling the wild curls on Wyatt’s head with one hand as he reached for his wife’s waist with the other, pulling her in for a kiss. Wyatt made a face and sped back into the kitchen, relishing the scents that welcomed him.

“When are the others getting back from the shop?!”

“Soon, cher, they had to go pick up a few things for the party,” Lisette answered him, following him into the kitchen. Right on cue, they heard the front door opening, and Wyatt was zipping past his parents to greet his aunts and uncles and cousins, hollering and kicking up a ruckus all the way. Marcel was first through the door, dropping into a squat as his little cousin came sprinting at him, catching him up in a hug and spinning him around on the spot.

“Bonne fête, little man!”

“What did you get, what did you get?” He was breathless from the laughter and the pestering, wanting nothing more than to rip into the bags they were carrying. And there was one—something wrapped in brown paper and with a bow. Was it a gift? Was it his gift? His eyes went wide, arms thrown around Marcel’s neck as he stared at the package. His uncle smiled at him, holding it out to him. Wyatt took it quickly, looking around until he caught his mother’s gaze.

“What is it?”

“Well open it, baby. It’s from all of us, we all pitched in for it.” Wyatt writhed in his cousin’s arms and the young man set him down again, laughing while the little lamia got right to work shredding the paper with his claws, gnawing at the strong twine with his sharpened teeth until everything came loose.

It was an instrument case. Sucking in a sharp breath, Wyatt flicked open the latches and carefully lifted the lid. Staring back at him was his very own trumpet, bright and shiny and new. It was the first new thing he’d ever gotten in his life, and he felt his chest swelling with joy and pride. Tears sprang to his eyes and he looked around at all of them, at a loss for words for once in his short life. They were all beaming back at him, watching as he finally pulled it out of the case and turned it over in his hands, shivering as he clutched it to his chest.

“I’m… I’m gonna be the best trumpeter there ever was!” the boy shouted, punching the air with one fist as he hopped around from foot to foot. “I’m gonna be famous! I’m gonna sell out concerts! Just you wait!” His family laughed, all in high spirits watching the youngest of them finally have access to his dreams.

Not long after, everyone was crowded into the kitchen, enjoying all the food that’d been made for the special occasion. Once the main course was finished, Wyatt sat at the head of the table, and they all started up a chorus of Happy Birthday as his mother brought over the tarte à la bouillie, his favorite dessert and the same one she always made on his birthday. Out of its center stood a lone candle, and once it was set in front of him, Wyatt closed his eyes tightly, hugged his trumpet to his chest, and gave it a good, hard thought.

I wish… that I’ll be part of the most amazing jazz band the world’s ever heard. And I wish for my mama n’ papa to have the best, most amazing restaurant in all New Orleans! And— Three wishes was probably pushing his luck. He opened his eyes again, blowing out the candle while everyone cheered.

—

He was turning fourteen today, but there was no party with his family—he was too busy helping out at the restaurant. His mother still made him his tarte à la bouillie, complete with birthday candle, which he softly thanked her for and ate quickly in the back storage room, happy in spite of the work to be done. When he reemerged into the kitchen, Lisette asked him to get some items down from a high shelf—he was already taller than she was, just as he’d predicted. As her son reached for the containers, his shirt rode up above his belly button and she noticed a nasty bruise on his side. Her throat constricted, her immediate reaction being to ask him what had happened, but she had a pretty good idea. He always got defensive when she asked about his injuries, upset enough to lie to her face, so she’d stopped pestering him about them years ago. But this ‘new job’ he had at the corner shop had always been suspect, especially the hours. She wasn’t stupid, even though he seemed to think he had her fooled. The money he gave her was more than a wage at a corner shop would ever be, but… she didn’t want to argue with him about it. It wasn’t worth it, fighting with her son. He was as stubborn as they came, and if this is what he wanted to do, that was his choice. But it still hurt, and she still wished she could convince him to stop. Convince him that they didn’t need the money (even though they did) and that he should get back to chasing his dreams. He was just a boy, but he acted like he was a man. It broke her heart. It was why she worked so hard to try and get this restaurant off the ground, to try and expand their profits, so he wouldn’t feel like he had to do whatever it took to help support them. She felt like a bad mother most days, the only relief from that anguish being the smile on her son’s face when she praised him for all his good, hard work.

Wyatt handed her one canister, then leaned in to plant a kiss on her forehead. “Thanks for the tart, mama,” he hummed, moving past her to go get his apron and get to work. Lisette brought a hand to her eyes, sniffing and swiping away the tears that had collected there.

“Of course, baby,” she called over her shoulder, shaking her head and setting the canister down on the counter before going to wash her hands. She had to figure out a way to bring it up with him again. She couldn’t keep watching him do this to himself.

—

It didn’t taste as good as he remembered. He wasn’t a baker, he knew that, not like she’d been, but still. It just…. lacked something. Wyatt stared down at the little tart in front of him, with a fork shoved in it and a couple bites missing, letting out a soft sigh. He got up from the stool, circling the island back into the kitchen and hunting through the drawers for a few minutes before finding what he was looking for. The man returned to his seat, sticking the candle into the middle of the tart, staring at it for a moment before lighting it with the lighter he’d also found in the drawer. It flickered, casting shadows and a warm glow on his pale face, but he didn’t smile at it. He just watched it burn down, never blowing it out as the wax dripped down onto the tart. It eventually sizzled out on its own, and Wyatt picked up the plate, getting up again to scrape its contents into the trash.

It’d been the same every year since he’d left Louisiana. He didn’t know why he ever expected anything to change.

#. thread ;#. solo ;#. tarte à la bouillie ;

11 notes · View notes

nyamadermont · 9 months ago

Text

Looking Out From Above

#FFF240 Broken Moonlight

@flashfictionfridayofficial

Avatar: Legend of Korra

994 words

Yu Jin wasn’t entirely sure how the stuffed Juji and Roh-Tan had made it into her private space above the register, but when she looked at their green name tags, and felt the metal, she had a suspicion.

But they were cute, and fit nicely under her arms and chin as she got under the covers and settled down for the night.

She wriggled a little bit, lining up her bones on the little mattress she had kept with her since running away from that lady. It felt thin when she was really tired, but it was the only thing that was really hers.

Juji’s whiskers tickled her nose, and she giggled. Just a little bit. No one could hear her.

Ok, it was almost the only thing.

She nuzzled Roh-Tan’s side and fell asleep.

***

The crash startled her awake, but when it was quiet after that, she decided maybe Tan had just fallen out of bed again.

It made her sad.

The first few times, she had gone running over to his bed, but he was never there. He was always coming out of the water closet, a towel in his hands. He would throw the towel over his shoulder and give a big yawn, stretching his arms almost wide enough to hit the walls.

He’d ruffle her hair and say, “Sorry, kid. My bed just isn’t big enough sometimes. You’re the smart one. If you sleep on the floor, you can’t fall, can you?”

He’d smile at her, but it never felt the same as when he smiled in the daytime.

She would open her arms for a hug. He’d bend over and pull his hands up to her shoulders.

The first time Tan had wrapped her in a hug, she had gotten all tight and stiff and scared. She didn’t really know why.

That time, he just put his huge hands on her little shoulders, but really lightly. It was almost like they weren’t really there. He squatted down low and looked at her. “Did I scare you?” She shrugged and pushed his hands off her. But she didn’t run away.

He pulled his hands back and sat down on the floor.

“I won’t do that again, Yu Jin. I’m sorry.”

She hugged herself and rubbed her arms. “It’s ok.”

He didn’t say anything. He put his hands down on his knees and just sat still.

That night was the first time he told her, “You can leave if you want to. But you can always come back. If you want to.”

She couldn’t hear much from her little spot, but she knew he hadn’t gone back to sleep yet. She thought about getting out of bed and asking for some tea, but Juji’s whiskers tickled her nose again and she sneezed.

“Juji! Stop that!” she fussed at the stuffed animal.

And then she giggled about telling a stuffed animal to stop doing something.

She tried to imagine what Lin was like, using her bending to put the little toys in her spot without coming in. Did she wave her hands? Did she throw them up to Tan to put away? Did Tan throw them onto her mattress from outside her curtain?

She hugged the toys a little tighter and snuggled into her blankets.

***

“Lin? I know it’s late…”

Yu Jin rubbed her eyes. When she opened them, she could only see a little glow from the streetlight outside, where it sort of bounced off the ceiling.

“I couldn’t sleep.”

She pulled the toys tighter to her chest. She knew there were nights Tan didn’t sleep, but he’d never said much to her about it.

“I hope I didn’t wake you.”

Silence.

Tan chuckled.

“Ok, maybe waking you up would be better than that.”

Silence.

Yu Jin thought about those times she heard Tan and Lin talking in the morning before she had to get out of bed. The way their voices stayed low and soft. She heard her name sometimes. They almost always laughed.

Tan’s voice was a little like that, but Yu Jin missed hearing Lin’s voice, too.

“Yeah. It was a bad dream.”

Silence.

Tan sighed.

“Yeah. That bad dream.”

He had never told her about his bad dreams.

He had listened to her talk about finding herself in the lady’s house. The lady telling her she lived here now and she had to stay. She had to stay quiet. She had to clean the dishes. Getting punished all the time. Getting little bits of food to eat.

“I can’t ask you….”

Silence.

“Lin?”

Silence.

“Are you there?”

Yu Jin rolled over and pulled the curtain open, just a little. It took her a minute to find him. He was sitting below the phone with his knees pulled up tight. The faint glow from the streetlights was just enough to see that he was still holding the receiver in his hands. He had to have been standing up to talk to her.

She couldn’t see his face, but she could hear him breathing. It was almost like he was shaking, but his hands were still.

She couldn’t remember him sitting so still before.

The bell jingled only once.

Yu Jin looked over to the door, and saw Lin’s left hand raised as she closed the door with her right. Above the door, the bell was frozen, upside down.

Silence.

Lin made a small motion, and the bell pivoted back down to its correct position, but it didn’t ring.

She looked around, but didn’t move. “Tan? Are you out here?”

Behind the counter, he just said, “Here.”

Lin’s bare feet made no noise.

Just as she turned to face him, a cloud must have moved, because moonlight flooded in around the posters and signs in the window.

Lin knelt and opened her arms.

Tan reached for her, and bent his head to her shoulder.

From her spot above, Yu Jin watched Lin hold Tan, washed in the broken moonlight.

#flash fiction friday #FFF240 #broken moonlight #linzolt #lin beifong #lightning bolt zolt #Red Jade #nyama's short fics

14 notes · View notes

gorgin-gals-muses · 8 months ago

Note

chubkink fic prompt: Camgirl Yuma booty show

The low-laying camera blinked on to the view of a purple-haired woman fiddling with it, an arm at the controls, the kneeling down hunched over the equipment and wearing a simple white shirt and a pair of panties. Her eyes darted up to the screen on her side. "Looks like everything's in order..."

"Hey guys, this is LusciousLilac here! I've got a few cans of White Claw here, some water balloons, and I bought a mini watermelon too! Should be pretty fun~." Known in real life by the much less flattering name Yuma Kokohead, the young woman had amassed a small but sizeable cult following under the name LusciousLilac, an avid gainer and camgirl. She had quite a few notable qualities; a soft, easily-flustered demeanor, a tendency to stuff herself to the extreme, and as she stood up to work the settings some and grab the drinks from the table above, she revealed her most noticeable; a ginormous shelf of an ass, and hips and thighs thick enough to properly frame it. Her pudgy gut that sat atop her legs was flabby and rolled, clearly used to being stretched out in harder, longer stuffing sessions. She brought three white cans to the camera, before walking back.

She went to the stage for tonight's show in the middle of the room, a low, wide, sturdy stool (although outsized by her gargantuan rear), atop a large plastic tarp that covered half the floor. As Yuma opened one of the cans and set the rest down, she sat low on the stool, facing the camera, and dug into her belly with her free hand as she led the seltzer down her throat with the other. Tipping her head back to take eager gulps, she fondled and stroked her gut, periodically pushing it up to let it fall back down and wobble on her girthy thighs. She finished the drink quickly, already developing a bit of a paunch, and reached for another to repeat the process, blushing from the alcohol entering her system and the excitement of what she was going to do with the empty cans. Yuma couldn't help but let out a deep belch as the second was chugged down her throat, filling her stomach up nicely, and once she had downed the final of the three, she had a head and belly both brimming with booze, three empty cans, and a perfect place to put them.

Pushing the stool a bit further, just to ensure a better view from the audience, she placed the cans in a row horizontally on the stool, and turned her back towards the camera. Yuma's wide, dimpled monster of an ass jiggled in place, guided by the momentum, as she slowly squatted down into the seat. She felt the cool aluminum grace her booty, and pressed downwards, shifting all of her weight into her ass. The sound of metal crinkling filled her ears as they struggled and resisted, prompting her to keep going, bouncing and wobbling as she got into a rhythm. The cans didn't stand a chance against her as she squashed repeatedly against them, slowly grinding them down until they were nothing more than flattened sheet metal. She felt the stool creak as she rocked her ass back and forth, smothering the aluminum like a wide, fleshy trash compactor. Finally, Yuma put her hands to her knees and pulled herself upwards, flicking the crushed cans onto the floor before presenting three water balloons to the camera.

Going back to the stool, Yuma gingerly placed one of the balloons on top of it, turned back towards her position, and squatted just slightly before quickly pressing her ass into it, colliding like a meteor. She got one solid bounce in, a short moment of resistance and bravery from the water balloon, before it ruptured, letting her ass fall and slam straight through it, quaking against the stool and shaking the camera with its heft. The water in the balloon quickly sprayed out, briefly dousing the (luckily waterproof) camera, the tarp, and Yuma's legs and butt, causing a quick yelp from the wide woman. She turned back, a bit flustered at her own squeal, before advancing to the second round, brushing excess plastic off and placing the new victim for her ass to crush. She went slower this time, gingerly winding her dumptruck down to the water balloon, only gently displacing it, before adding more pressure. It stayed strong, if very squished, hugging each gargantuan cheek. She lightly bounced on the balloon, humping her ass onto it repeatedly as it sprang down and back up, before the tension finally gave way, causing her to spray the camera once more. She let out another squeak this time, genuinely shocked by the untimed bursting. "S-sorry," she blurted out, blushing yet again. The third balloon was in for a big surprised as she slowly turned around, presenting her gut and thunder thighs to the camera, and slotted it in, squeezing it between her legs. This was actually the hardest of the three for her, her musculature far from well-developed, but as she strained and increased the pressure, the balloon seemed to all but completely disappear as it was swallowed up by her thigh blubber, before something finally snapped, a torrent of water shooting up into Yuma's face. She recoiled back, actually feeling a little bit humiliated by that one... she glanced back into the camera, blinking as her face and below were soaked.

"Hoough... now for the watermelon." She grunted a bit as she got up, stretching out, and reached for the watermelon above the camera, swaying a bit as she gathered the strength. It might've been only 3 or 4 pounds, but she was still a little staggered from the liquor in her system, and the watermelon only barely fit on the stool. If Yuma wanted to squash the sturdy fruit into a pulp, she needed to give it everything she got. She turned back, presenting her ass to the camera, shaking it a bit. "Here goes nothing..." She dropped her fat ass onto the watermelon from near standing position, hearing a slight cracking noise. "I think it's working!" She redoubled her efforts, jumping up and down as the watermelon started breaking apart, her ass violently jiggling and shaking with her rhythmic efforts. Each meaty slap of her ass pounded the watermelon further and further towards shattering open, hearing the sound of fruit and wood both breaking. Wait... wood?

"Oh, fu-" Yuma lost her breath and balance as it all gave way under her, watermelon and stool being decimated in tandem by her titanic butt. She fell forward as her legs sprang back reflexively, leaving her and the floor covered in splattered watermelon flesh, chunks of rind, and wood splinters. The remains of the chair, kicked by Yuma's sputtering, flailing limbs, collided with the mounted camera, tipping it over and sending the rest of the video into darkness. All that could be heard now were groans from the collapsed camgirl, though whether they were from pain or arousal was hard to determine.

#yumass

12 notes · View notes

southernswampmamma · 5 months ago

Text

Magic Man: Chapter 9

Original! Male Character x Original! Black Female Character

Chapter Warnings: Slow Burn, Age Gap,

Summary: Yolana Humphry spent her entire life stuck in Tapioca, Alabama, under the thumb of her controlling Aunt Freda. Until a stranger comes along and swoops her off her feet. A charming man, that everyone but herself seems to know; who easily bypasses her fragile walls and embeds himself in her heart. Escape, however, doesn’t seem to be the end of Yolana’s journey. With her newfound freedom, she now has the opportunity to pursue something she never thought she could obtain.

Chapter Summary: After a long drive back to Nathan's home, both Yolana and Nathan have a hard time processing their new situation.

Please Enjoy!

Chapter Nine

21753 Wesley Way

As great as Nathan drove, it still did nothing to stave the riding fatigue that Yolana had after the three-hour trip. If Nathan had not stopped for both food, then gas, Yolana would have gone insane. As soon as she could hop off the bike, she was getting distance from the thing, walking off to stretch her body. To Yolana, Nathan seemed like he was fairing well, well physically. Yolana had no clue how he was otherwise, considering they barely spoken full sentences to each other since they left. Couple that with the nonexistent eye contact that neither could give, it was fair to say they both weren’t doing so well, mentally. The first hour of the ride was good. Yolana barely noticed it was silent, but afterwards she started thinking, and after the first stop when words were scantily spoken, the discomfort began to settle in.

It obviously didn’t help the anxiety that was already occupying her chest, but Yolana knew it was best for the both of them to stay quiet. She was thinking things over, and so was Nathan. However, it was strange that the passion they shared escaping Tapioca stayed in Tapioca. Once they were on the road away from Belvin and free from Freda, the adrenaline eased out of them and their brains gained full control again. The sweat beginning to cool from the wind whipping around them and their heartbeats slowing down to its regular steady rhythm.

At the first break, the food break, Nathan asked Yolana what she wanted before she moved towards the bathrooms. When she came back to him, he was quietly waiting at the table for their number to be called. When she approached, he gave her a gentle smile, but said nothing. They ate in silence as well. Even his bites seemed quieter. So, Yolana’s knee started bouncing, and the air began to feel thicker. It was unlike Nathan to be so restrained, especially when eating. Usually, he would start several varied conversations, but instead, he was more focused on the goings on outside the establishment, so Yolana focused on her food. During the gas break and second restroom break, Nathan didn’t even look at her. He pumped the gas while Yolana stretched in the distance. He did look at her, though, sneaking glances at her from his spot. Nathan watched Yolana as she bent forward and touched her toes, then dipped down into a squat and back up a few times. He knew it was unlike himself to be so silent, he also knew that Yolana noticed and didn’t like it, but he couldn’t fix his mouth to say anything to her. He felt he might have overstepped, not at all thinking things all the way through. Nathan thought over the whole debacle. He told his grandfather he was going to invite Yolana to come with him, but he didn’t technically do that. He asked Ms. Patty to help with Freda, though the old woman had no idea what was going on, she did it anyway. Mrs. Henderson called him first and Nathan didn’t know how she got his number, but she informed him that it wouldn’t be gentlemanly of him to go without saying goodbye to Yolana. So, Nathan simply had her let him know when Freda left the house. He went the sneaky way about things, which made him feel like he might have overstepped. Yolana honestly thought that he regretted everything and though she tried to get her breath to come in and out lighter, it only got worse as time went on.

Yolana was tired. If it wasn’t for the fact that she was on top of a vehicle except inside one, she would have been dosed off. She found it was getting easier and easier, and her eyes were getting heavier and heavier. But soon something changed. Except for the fast-paced, loud traffic, the surrounding movement slowed. It seemed they were getting close to their destination. They were actually really close, for a few turns later they were approaching a small paved road with an elegant brick sign sitting adjacent to it. “Wesley Estates” is what the sign said. “Estates” sounded fancy, and rich. Yolana knew Nathan made a lot of money, so it made sense he would live in a place with such a chic name. She didn’t know how much money he made, but now she knew he made “estate” money.

The bike crawled down the slim paved road, every minute or so passing by a large home. Yolana marveled at the size and distance between each home. They all sat so far apart for them to all be in one neighborhood, separated by grassy land or a mini forest. All the homes were a minimum of 2 stories tall, with brick or colored siding. Expansive porches and excessive windows were a popularity in the neighborhood. The houses were no cookie cutter homes. Every home was a unique building, most likely picked or curated by the owner. Yolana was in awe. It was out of her scope; her realm of reality to even think she would ever have something like that. Also, the land. To afford both grand properties and keep it maintained, the owners must be wealthy, if not filthy rich.

Passing another few acres of trees, the two turned into a white stone driveway that led to a two-car garage. Yolana waited until Nathan stopped fully before taking in the structure in front of her. Like the other homes, Nathan’s was unique, as in it wasn’t like the others. His home was two stories, dark grey paneling, with large picture windows. The window panes were held by black frames and the trimmings on the home were white. Between the garage and the primary structure of the house was an area with a large two-story window. Yolana could see both floors from that window and she wondered how long it took to clean.

It was a dark house on the outside, but Yolana felt like it fit Nathan and liked that it didn’t go along with the other brightly colored homes. He didn’t simply get a brick home or one of those standard colors. Suddenly, Yolana felt a fresh wave of nervousness. She was about to enter Nathan’s home. The place he relaxes and sleeps. It reminded Yolana of the distance she just traveled and how far she was from home. She’d never been so far and the first time she commutes anywhere, she is introduced to a bachelor’s home. But what did she expect? Where else was he to take her? How could one person even live in such a place by themselves and not get lonely? Maybe it was easy for Nathan, but Yolana, not being far from her aunt at all times, could never. ‘Well, you won’t be alone anyway’ is what her brain told her. They both would be sharing the space together, at least for tonight.

Nathan shut the ignition off, and that was Yolana’s cue to get off the motorcycle. He instinctively brought his hand out to help her, and Yolana instinctively grabbed it. She steadied herself before she reached for the helmet, but Nathan’s fingers were there first. There he was again, helping her with the helmet, face so close Nathan swore he could feel the wind from her thick eyelashes. He was thinking while they were coasting through the neighborhood. The last thing Nathan wanted was for Yolana to be uncomfortable, and he would be damned if he took her back to Tapioca. She was vulnerable right now, never been this far away from home, ever, and he couldn’t make himself force her to stay with him, so he was thinking. While their faces were so close, they had no choice but to face each other. It would be best to speak his mind then and there.

“Lana?” it came out hoarse, so he cleared his throat. “Lana, I think, in the morning, we should go see my mother.”

Nathan didn’t know what to expect from her when he said it, but silence and unwavering eye contact wasn’t it. He was about to ask if she heard him when she sucked in her bottom lip and hurriedly nodded. Moving her eyes away from him. Nathan felt defeated. He was going to say more, but the way she looked elsewhere, it was probably best that he didn’t. That was their most awkward interaction yet. Yolana couldn’t look him in the eye and Nathan used taking off the helmet as an excuse to not interact again. When he was finished, Nathan sat the helmet on the bike and turned for the door.

“I’ll get the bags later. I want to show you around first.”

Yolana left the motorcycle where it was and followed Nathan inside the house. She timidly stepped over the threshold and was immediately introduced to the beautiful, natural sunlight streaming from the windows. Why Nathan didn’t close his curtains was beyond Yolana. She was sure his light bill was low, maybe his air conditioning made up for it. They were in a short hallway with a few doors along the wall. Everything was closed off, so she didn’t get to see much until Nathan led her down the hall. The inside felt almost as big as the outside as they walked. It didn’t help when they got to the kitchen and Yolana saw the open floor plan. The kitchen, the dining area, and the living room all shared the same massive space, each area having its own enormous chunk of it. To her left was the kitchen with deep forest green counters with cream-colored marble countertops and dark stained wood handles. The cabinets above were eggshell with the same stained wood handles with the refrigerator matching. Yolana never seen a refrigerator match the cabinets. It almost looked like a cabinet itself, if not for the ice maker sitting dead center on the left door. To her right was the dining room. Nathan seemed to like darker colors in his home, for the dining room furniture was all dark wood with maroon place mats at each chair. Those two rooms were hard wood but in front of Yolana was the living room and it had a comfy looking tan carpet covering the floor.

Though the entire house was bright, the living room seemed the brightest, and when Yolana looked up, she could see why. There was no ceiling. Well, there was, but there was no ceiling separating the first floor from the second. There was just the roof and an elegant light that hung from the ceiling. Yolana didn’t think Nathan was the type to have a chandelier, but considering it was made from deer antlers, she supposed it was masculine enough to fit him. On her way back down the cotton white walls, she eyed the four large picture windows that let all the light in from outside, before returning them to Nathan. When she saw him watching her, she almost flinched, but she stiffly cleared her throat instead. He had a gorgeous home, and he caught her in awe, drooling at the mouth. He gave her another gentle smile.

“Would you like something to drink?” again Nathan’s voice was hoarse. He probably needed the drink more than Yolana did. After the drive and constant thinking, Nathan had worked himself into a nervous frenzy. It was a level of nervousness he hadn’t felt in a long time. On the outside, he was as cool as he always was. Easy going Nathan Bard. However, on the inside, he was still battling himself. Nathan goes with the flow, but going with the flow doesn’t always work with Yolana. He made it work for the two weeks he was in Tapioca, but the whole Candace situation and how much Freda affected him, Nathan caught himself not taking things so easily. So, since Yolana was at his home, maybe illegally, he found himself nervous.

Yolana agreed on water and Nathan went to the refrigerator to go fetch it. There was no handle, Yolana noticed, and she was curious how he was going to open it. Nathan put his hand up to where the handle should be and pressed on the surface. To Yolana’s amazement, the door popped free for Nathan to open. That time, Yolana couldn’t pick her jaw up from the floor fast enough for Nathan not to see. When he turned around, bottled water in hand and saw her face, he looked behind him to see what the matter was. He turned back to Yolana, still confused. She pointed at the cabinet-refrigerator.

Nathan looked at her, sheepishly. “Yea. Pretty neat, huh? The builder didn’t tell me about it, and I didn’t notice until everything was said and done. Well, firstly, I couldn’t find the thing. So, one angry call later. There it was. I was a little embarrassed ‘cause I couldn’t figure how to open it either.”

Yolana expected he was still a bit embarrassed, considering he was holding the back of his neck. He shouldn’t’ve been, it would have taken her longer. Yolana approached Nathan in the kitchen, running her hands over the wooden handles, not able to stop herself.

Nathan handed Yolana the cold water bottle and watched her take a sip. “Well, as you can see, there is the living room and dining room.” He pointed at the two before walking with her to each.

Yolana liked how cozy Nathan’s living room was. Big cushiony sofas and armchairs, a random sponsored blanket hanging off one arm of the sofa, and folded bags of treats neatly tucked under the coffee table. There were a few other things scattered under the coffee table, like magazines and lighters. The subtle things in his living room were good temporary distractions from her discomfort.

Moving on from there, Nathan showed Yolana to the pool and the backyard, then up the stairs where three bedrooms were. All the bedrooms were furnished with a bed and dresser, as if visits were common in his home. The one that Yolana picked overlooked the backyard where the pool shined and even further where the trees swayed gently from the wind. Dark blue curtains and decorative pillows accented the room and bed. The connected bathroom too had a dark blue theme. Nathan let Yolana know where the other upstairs and downstairs bathrooms were, as well as his room, which was downstairs too. Across from his bedroom was his office towards the front of the house. If she couldn’t find him, that’s where he would be.

Nathan left Yolana in her temporary room to go retrieve her bag. Since they were to be leaving again, there was no point in having all her things, just the main bag for the night. Yolana sat on the bed; it was soft, softer than hers at home. Well, at her former home? She didn’t know yet, and she shook her head. It was better not to think about that part for the moment. The bed didn’t creak once when she shuffled back on it, letting her legs dangle off the side. She slowly breathed in and out, her breath coming short again since she was alone. Her eyes were starting to water to add on to the madness and her heart rate was gradually picking up again. So much had just happened. Never had she really done anything bad, but in one day she had done so much. Running away. High-speed chase. Crashing at a man’s home. Those were such serious things that could have so many consequences. Also, Yolana was sure Nathan regretted everything already. He might not show it on his face, but how much different he acted versus his usual self let her know everything.

Her back hit the bed, and she blearily stared at the ceiling. What’s supposed to happen to her now? They’re supposed to go see his mother, but what does that mean for her? Yolana had no plan. She hopped on his bike because she was upset and ready for a change and knew Nathan could be that change. She was down for whatever, but she wasn’t living in a hallmark movie, she was living in the real world. People in the real world don’t jump into decisions and it magically works out for the better. For all she knew, Nathan was going to come back to her and tell her to get back on the bike and send her ass back to Tapioca. Back to a distraught uncle and furious aunt.

He didn’t, though. Instead, Nathan climbed the stairs and dropped off her bag. He didn’t mention her red eyes; he ignored them like she hoped. Rather, he asked her about ordering food and something about making some calls, then left. He stayed gone until the food arrived, then left again for the rest of the night. Yolana didn’t know what to expect from him. It was a little disheartening being shut up in that room by herself, but it wouldn’t have been any better out and about around the house. She wasn’t in the right head space to do anything but what she was doing at that moment, staring at nothing, letting the worries of her mind paralyze her.

Nathan felt like an asshole. He brought Yolana to his home only to disappear after an hour. He ordered the food she wanted, then withdrew to his office, where he sat at his desk with his phone to his ear. He began rubbing his palm up and down his thigh while the phone rang. He told his mother he would call as soon as he arrived in Tennessee and he was off by a few hours. That wouldn’t matter when he told her why he called.

“Hello~,” a calm voice said on the other end.

“Hey Ma!”

“Hey Butterbean!” her voice lifted though it was still its usual deep softness. Nathan could hear random people talking and a few animals hollering in the background, and knew that she was probably busy on the farm.

“I’m back home, just calling to let you know that I’m settled in.”

“That’s good sweetie. You still going to come over this weekend?” she spoke over the noise.

“Um.” Nathan paused. “Well, I was thinking maybe I can come over sooner, like tomorrow.”

“Don’t you have work tomorrow? Why so much sooner?”

Nathan waved his hand in the air dismissively. “Don’t worry about work. They can go without me a few more days.” He stopped, trying to gather the words he needed to answer her other question. “I, um, I brought a friend with me, and I think you should meet her.”

A very loud gasp came from the other end, and it caused Nathan to dramatically roll his eyes to the back of his skull.

“You brought a girl back home with you?” a pleased mother said.

“Now Ma, don’t go and start thinking too far now,” Nathan pleaded.

“What do you mean? You brought a girl home. It’s been so long since you last saw someone. I would love to meet her.”

“It’s not like that, Ma. We’re not seeing each other. She’s just a friend in a bad spot and I wanted to help.” Nathan was leaning forward, elbows on his desk and head in his hands.

“Bad spot? What’s wrong with her?”

“Nothing’s wrong. Do you remember a man named Belvin Friday? She’s his niece.”

It was quiet while she thought. “Kinda sorta.” Came from the phone. “I have no recollection of any niece, though.”

“That’s fine. I just want you to meet her tomorrow. I kind of brought her here, not thinking if she was willing to stay here... with me,” Nathan said quietly.

“Oh honey. We don’t mind you bringing her here. You know we love guests!”

Nathan smiled. His parents were always ready with arms wide to let someone in. He didn’t know why he felt so nervous about telling her. They’ve done it 12 times before for other people; he wouldn’t be surprised if they did it 20 more. Their ranch was so big; they had plenty of room and throughout the years she had homed many people. Whether it was family, friends, or her workers and their families, Remy and Lincoln Bard always had a room for them. Nathan didn’t know much about his paternal grandparents, he only visited them a few times throughout his young life, but he knew the loving hospitality of Remy Bard came straight from Elijah’s genes.

“I know, mom. You are always there for me.”

“Of course, sweetie. I’ll go ahead and make a room for her. You’ll stay in your usual room, sugar.”

Nathan nodded. “Yeah, well, I’ll let you go. Kind of had an exciting day and I’m wrung dry on energy.” Plus, he could tell with all the noise coming from the phone that her attention was needed elsewhere. “Tell Dad I said howdy.”

Remy sighed on the other end. “OK, my love, I’ll see you tomorrow. But Nathan? Is she pretty?”

The question caught Nathan off guard, and it put a little pink to his cheeks. He didn’t need to feed into any preconceived notions his mother had.

“Mama, stop!” He whined.

“It’s just a question! You don’t have to be involved to think she’s pretty!”

“Goodnight Mama. Love you.”

“Night, night, Butterbean.”

Nathan brought his hand to the door, taking a moment to collect himself, then knocked on the wood. He was clueless if Yolana was even up or not, so he tried not to knock too loud and startle her. He stood there waiting for her to answer, and after a minute of staring at the door in the dark hallway, it opened. The light from inside the room lit his features as his eyes adjusted. They landed on the smaller figure of Yolana, who slowly opened the door. Nathan went to sleep feeling shitty and woke up feeling shitty. However, as he looked down at Yolana with sleepy, puffy eyes that were left over from the tears of the day before, Nathan felt even more like a piece of shit. Looking further down, he saw she still wore her Sunday clothes, and that made it difficult for him to speak his next words.

“Can I have your bag?”

Yolana simply looked at him and nodded her head before moving away from the door. Nathan stopped her, though.

“You can shower if you like. You don’t have to go like that if you don’t want to.” He got the same response as before, a nod and retreat.

“Shit.” Nathan sighed before going back down the stairs. Another long drive with a dreary mood.

Yolana met Nathan downstairs with her bag in tow, and he led her out the side exit where both his truck and car sat in the garage. Yolana got to pass by the mudroom where the large two-story window was and looked through the clean glass panes. There was a mezzanine right above her on the second floor. The outside view was much prettier up there. The motorcycle sat right outside the garage in the sun. Their helmets still sat there on the seat, but nothing else. Nathan loaded her things into the backseat of his Highlander and opened the door for her. It was another long drive. Another three hours from Nathan’s home to Athens, where his parents lived. The car was filled with the sounds of the road and the tunes that were played on the radio. Also, the ruffling of to-go bags from where they stopped and ate. Yolana wanted so badly to say something. She and Nathan have never been this quiet around each other for so long. It was killing her, and her heart hadn’t slowed since she woke up that morning. If it didn’t slow down soon, Yolana could see herself on the side of the road, shaking and out of breath. That would only add to the uncomfortable tension between her and Nathan. She needed to get a grip.

Yolana tried to close her eyes. Leaning her head on the window, she tried to let the ride soothe her. It didn’t work, but she kept her eyes closed, pretending. If she pretended hard enough, it would stave off the panic attack… maybe. Yolana was close to one before she went to bed, but all she did was cry instead. Nathan didn’t cry, nor was he on the brink of a panic attack. He just felt, and probably would, continue to feel shitty until Yolana spoke to him. Or at least looked him in the eye; maybe a smile. He knew he wasn’t getting any of those; didn’t deserve them, so he sat in the driver’s seat and drove.

They’d finally made it to an expansive piece of property that was mostly lawn. The only indication that it was all one large lot was the wood fence that went along the border. There were large squares of land that were lush grass and other squares that were just dirt. In the far back center was a massive farm style home with various attachments connected to it. This was the ranch, and when Yolana ultimately opened her eyes and saw it, she was in awe. Nathan’s parents owned all of this? She thought it was a small farm. It was so much space, so much land. She would never have thought she would be around people of this caliber.

The driveway was long. It took four entire minutes to make it up to the circle driveway where other cars were. By the time Nathan got out and was walking to her side, Yolana could feel herself tipping over. She held on to the door for dear life so Nathan couldn’t open it. When he tried and it didn’t budge, he looked at her tentatively.

“Can you give me a minute?” Yolana said through the window. He looked at her, confused, so she repeated herself, then his face relaxed. He bleakly nodded, looking kicked and disappointed, then retreated.

Yolana watched as he climbed the big steps leading up to the large front door and disappeared inside. As soon as he was gone, she ducked her head down into her hands and rapidly and brutally rubbed her palms over her face.

“Get it together. Get it together.” Yolana repeated to herself.

She could feel the tears coming in hot and no amount of squeezing her face and hitting her cheeks could stop them. Her knee bounced as they started to fall, and her breath came out with an audible whoosh sound as she breathed through her teeth. It was OK that the tears started coming as long as she could stop the madness before she started shaking and losing feeling in her fingertips.

“God, please make it stop. I can’t leave and face these people this way.” Yolana pleaded, annoyed that she couldn’t get a handle of herself quickly.

She took her head away from her hands and looked frantically around the vehicle. Her eyes landed on Nathan’s keys, still hanging from the ignition. Yolana moved before thinking and turned the car on before fiddling with every knob in the fancy car, getting the air conditioning blasting from the vents. She turned the knob to the coldest setting and planted her face directly on the vent.

Cold air was the most effective in situations like this. Whether it be cold water, a cold compress or at that moment blaring air conditioning, cold anything did the job. It was the shock of a different temperature. It must have some effect on the brain to make it reset. Yolana used the air to bring her back, not letting up from the vent. Not after her eyes began to hurt from the cold air, and not even after her breath finally slowed. She stayed right in that spot with her face frozen until she felt like it was safe. That was 5 minutes later.

She slowly sat up, squeezing and rubbing her eyes to unfreeze them. Yolana blindly turned the air off, then the ignition. After opening her eyes, she sat there hollow, but soon, without thinking too much about it, got out of the car, and dismally walked towards the steps. She was on autopilot and was doubtful about what she looked like. She didn’t know if her eyes were red or what her face looked like. Yolana probably had a large, obvious grill mark on her forehead from leaning on the vent. Her nose was probably red too, because she was sniffling, and by the time she got to the door, she regretted not checking herself before. Yet Yolana was already at the door, about to knock.

She was holding herself when Nathan opened the door. Her eyes met his, and she decided to smile for him. Well, as best as she could. Being around Freda, she learned how to somewhat genuinely smile when she didn’t want to. Nathan’s body relaxed when she gave him the poor smile, and he smiled back. He reached for her, delicately rubbing Yolana’s upper arm before leading her inside by the small of her back. If Yolana wasn’t so preoccupied with keeping herself together, she might have been able to observe her surroundings, but instead she blindly looked ahead of her. The details blurred in her mind. Looking but not seeing.

Nathan kept his hand behind her, leading her through the home until they were in a very large and pristine white kitchen. Yolana didn’t focus until they stopped and immediately wished she didn’t. Three sets of wide blue eyes stared back at her, and Yolana wished she could hide behind Nathan’s large body. The three people in front of her had welcoming smiles, albeit worried looking. They looked at her like at any moment she was going to pass away, and Yolana felt the same. It was easy to tell who was who without Nathan’s introduction, but she listened while he did, anyway.

The only other man in the room standing at two damn big to be natural was Nathan’s father, Lincoln Bard. They shared significant features like their height and hair and how they both leaned on their right leg with the other one pointed out. Very comfortable and confident. Their eyebrows were the same too, in that they were thick. Lincoln was thinner than Nathan, but that could have been because of age. It certainly didn’t make him any smaller. The older man smiled towards Yolana, and she noticed he had dimples and a narrow gap in his teeth.

Next to him was Nathan’s mother, Remy and whatever Lincoln didn’t pass on to Nathan, Remy’s genes took over. Other than his hair and stature, Nathan looked exactly like his mother. They shared the same calm eyes and gentle smile. Their faces held similar angles and cheekbones, though Nathans were sharper due to him being a man. They even had the same nose and hairline. Yolana could tell, even behind the curtain of hair over Rammy’s forehead. She was tall too, though, significantly shorter than her husband and son, but still taller than her daughter and Yolana. She looked far younger than her husband, but they both looked good and complimented each other well.

Lastly, was Catherine. She and her mother shared blonde hair and facial structure and most everything else. Although 2 little dimples dotted her cheeks and her eyes matched her father’s. She looked around Yolana’s age, though her height gave the illusion she was older. Even though they all had smiles on their faces for the stranger their family member brought home, Catherine’s smile held a little more than southern hospitality. She was amused, Yolana concluded. Her smile carried amusement, and Yolana wished she could share that amusement, but she couldn’t think of anything that was funny.

“And y’all. This here is Yolana Humphry.” Nathan said, presenting Yolana to his family.

Yolana tried her smile again, hoping that was enough of a greeting.

“It’s nice to meet you, sweetheart.” Lincoln said. He sounded like Sam Elliott to her.

“Yes! We love meeting Nathan’s new friends. Especially a lady friend, since he hasn’t had one in a long time.” Remy rejoiced.

Yolana didn’t realize Nathan’s hand was still at the small of her back. Until she felt the fabric of her shirt pull.

“Mom.” Nathan pinched.

Remy looked around. “What?”

Yolana didn’t think Remy would have such a sultry, deep voice, but she liked it coupled with her country twang.

“So, how did you two meet?” Catherine asked. Her amused smile was still on her face.

“A little get together at the fire station. It was for her uncle.”

“Well, that’s nice. Come sit. I’ll get you something to drink.”

As Remy went to the refrigerator to get something for Yolana, Catherine led her to a cafe style table in the corner of the kitchen. Yolana looked for Nathan to be behind her, but he wasn’t. He was still in his place, having a private conversation with his father. The two men looked her way for a short period before going back to their conversation. Yolana quickly looked away, pretending she didn’t see them while accepting her water from Remy. As the older woman sat down, Yolana could see in her peripheral the two men leave and go down the hallway. When Nathan was out of sight, Yolana turned her attention back to the ladies.

They both stared at her unblinkingly, with fixed smiles on their faces still. Both heads off kilter to the side and blonde hairs falling over their shoulders. They were taking her in as much as she was them, but Remy would be the first person to say anything.

“So Yolana. How was the drive?”

Well, she couldn’t stay quiet forever. Talking was the last thing she wanted to do. Yolana didn’t trust her voice and when she squeaked out a small “fine”, she was right not to. She took the water to her face.

“I know long rides are exhausting, but the motorcycle, to me, is so much worse. He should have drove the car. At least so a pretty girl like yourself would have air conditioning.”

Pretty? Yolana felt everything but pretty in that moment. She still had no idea what she looked like, and she wanted to throw up.

“I can only survive 15 minutes on that thing.” Catherine sighed. “And he made you ride 3 hours? God, no.”

“So what’s your story? What made you want to come to Tennessee?”

Yolana should have known that she was going to be asked these questions, eventually. Especially by the mother of the house. Yolana imagined if she was in Remy’s position, and her eldest child brought home a stranger, she would immediately want to know that person’s intentions. Remy probably cared what Yolana was doing in Tennessee, but as a mother, she most likely cared more about why Tennessee and why her son. It made Yolana hyper aware of herself. Her hair, her face, her stature, and honestly her skin tone, too. Again, she wished she would have at least checked her reflection before leaving the car.

“Nathan invited me.” It wasn’t a lie, it also wasn’t the full truth, and it wasn’t enough information for Remy.

“So, you just came down?”

Yolana nodded.

“Must’ve been hard taking off from work. What do you do for a living?”

“I’m a phlebotomist.”

“Phlebotomy is important work, Mom.” Catherine added.

“It is. Anything in the medical field is important. How’d your family feel about you leaving for the trip? Especially by yourself and on such short notice.”

“Um… not too fond of the idea.” Yolana’s voice broke again, but except for taking another sip of her water, she just looked down at it.

Remy gave the girl a sympathetic look. Catherine saw the look and immediately recognized it from the 10 other times her mother had done it. It didn’t matter how many questions Remy asked Yolana; the answer was going to be the same. Remy understood the difficulty in moving away from family and was sure Yolana suffered a lot with the process. When Nathan called Remy about Yolana, all that was told was the girl was in a bad spot. She wondered what happened for her to have to leave.

“I know how that feels. My daddy wasn’t too happy when I left Tapioca, either.” Remy straightened herself up. “Do you have any children?”

Yolana shook her head.

“Thank God. I’m tired of everyone having kids. It’s depressing.” If Catherine had a nickel for every friend that had a baby announcement over the past two years, she’s sure she would have at least $0.65.

“How long you plan on staying?”

Yolana had no answer for her. She just opened and closed her mouth like a dying fish. She would stay as long as Nathan would have her, which might not be long at all.

“I see.” Remy said. She reached out across the small table to place her hand over Yolana’s. Remy clasped on to the younger woman’s hand and squeezed.

Yolana could feel the pressure of her embrace all the way up her arm and to her heart. As her eyes moved from their contrasting black and white hands, Yolana looked up to Remy’s sweet and compassionate eyes. She found herself nearing another episode of crying.

“It’s OK. You’re always welcome-“

“Honey?”

All three women turned towards the voice at the entrance of the kitchen. It was Lincoln, leaning in, beckoning for his wife. He knew he was interrupting something touchy feely, so he stood there, awkward and unwilling to step any closer. He just watched on, a floating head and arms as Remy gave their new guest a small smile as she stood from the table. With nothing else said, the two left the room and Yolana was left with just Catherine.

“I think what she was going to say was, you’re always welcome here at the ranch.”

Ohh. Yolana thought. She could barely answer her questions without her voice giving out. How was she inviting her to stay?

“Thank you, um.” Yolana paused. “I don’t want to be a bother and Nathan-“

“You won’t be,” was all Catherine said, and it left them in an awkward silence.

Yolana avoided the woman’s eye contact while she visibly stared at Yolana. After a few more seconds, though, Catherine finally decided to speak. She clasped her hands together. “Would you like a tour?”

After explaining everything to his parents, Nathan was going on breathless. After mentioning the BBQ, the rides to work, Yolana’s Aunt Freda and Uncle Belvin, and the “Great Escape”, Nathan was sure they had everything they needed for the conversation. Though his mouth wouldn’t stop there. He told them of his worries, uncertainties, and how Yolana had never been outside of Tapioca. He told them of his promise of protection and how much it meant to him to follow through. With all his rambling, he didn’t know how cute he looked to his mother, fussing over a woman. They might not be together, but Remy saw that there was already a strong connection amongst friends.

“Nathan, son. It really is OK. She can stay here as long as she needs. You know we don’t mind.” Lincoln was at his desk, leaning over the dark wood with his wife behind him, stroking his back.

“And don’t be so hard on yourself. I’m sure she would understand once you talk to her. But Nathan, you need to talk to her. She looks like a scared mouse out there.” Remy followed after her husband.

“I just don’t want her to think I’m throwing her away. Bringing her out here and throwing her off somewhere. I don’t want y’all to think I’m handing off my responsibility to you.” Nathan paused, leaning against one of the large bookshelves. “I just acted. I just wanted to get her away from there. I didn’t think if she would want to be with me or not. I mean, I have plenty of room for her, but I didn’t think if that would be OK with her.”

“So you wouldn’t mind taking her home?” Lincoln asked.

Nathan shook his head. “No, I haven’t lived with the woman since… my engagement, but I wouldn’t mind. But Yolana has never lived with anyone else but her aunt.”

“Well, the first step is asking her, don’t you think? Whatever answer she gives you, make plans accordingly.”

Nathan stared at his father. With all that had happened, asking Yolana what she wanted was something he didn’t think to do. Maybe because from the moment he took her bags and loaded her on his motorcycle to that very moment in front of his parents, Nathan had been in protection mode. He thought of Yolana as his responsibility, so he had to make all the decisions. Nathan decided that Yolana would be better off with his parents than with him. He simply couldn’t comprehend her being comfortable in the same space with himself. But she trusted him to bring her there. Why wouldn’t she trust him at his home? Well, it’s simply different. But again, Yolana had trust in Nathan from the very beginning. Allowing herself to be with him alone in his vehicle, taking her long distance to a bar and experiencing her first ride on a motorcycle. She confidently wrapped her arms around him and pressed herself to him, not at all able to see over his shoulder, but trusted him all the same to get them where they needed to go. So why suddenly would she not trust him that time?

“Yoo-hoo? Nathan, you still there?” Lincoln called to his son, who was staring directly through his head.

“Uh, yeah, Dad.” Nathan said, coming back to the present moment. “I’ll definitely ask her.”

Yolana calculated that if she was to run from the front door to the rear of the house and back, she would have run a full mile. She didn’t know a single building that wasn’t a skyscraper or a hotel that could have so many rooms and leisure spaces. There were 12 rooms in the two-story home, 6 bathrooms as well, with three leisure rooms. Seven of the 12 rooms were occupied, but stepping inside two of the vacant rooms, each room was large enough to be modified from a single person room to at least a four person room. Yolana couldn’t help herself from asking why there were so many rooms.

“When mom and Dad decided to invest in a plot of land for the business, they wanted enough rooms for the workers here. Some of our employees migrated here from Mexico. If they needed a place to stay, we had room for them.”

Yolana thought that was very nice of them to do something like that? Also, to build an entire mansion, not just for yourselves and the business, but for your workers as well, is something to admire. It took a special type of person to let people into their home to have a fair chance at life. Yolana couldn’t see any of the ladies from church doing anything like that, not even the first lady.

After walking the halls of the large ranch home, Catherine showed Yolana the ranch itself and the animals that were there. The farm was pretty small, like Nathan had mentioned. It was more than Elijah had, but still small in the amount of animals and space it took up. They had chickens and pigs and mules and a few cows. Turkeys and goats as well were scattered around the place. Scattered indeed. The goats and turkeys seemed to have free rein of the place. Yolana understood, though. The goats were probably out for grass maintenance and turkeys usually don’t stray far from their coop like chickens. Since the chickens are probably there more for their eggs, it would make sense to keep them in their area to limit the amount of randomly lain eggs across the yard.

Farm hands went about their business around Yolana and Catherine. Only speaking when they needed to be where the two girls were standing. Which seemed to be every spot they stopped on their way to the stables. It didn’t seem busy there, just steady, constant work. It slowed all the way down once they made it to the entrance of the stables.

Catherine slid the barn door over, introducing Yolana to a clean, well lit area covered with dirt and hay like the rest of the place. Though the hay was more strategically placed than the disarray outside. It smelled of horses, which was an astute observation by Yolana, since there indeed were horses lined in the stalls.

“These are our horses. Our money makers, as Juan Carlos says. He’s our handler. He had his own farm in Mexico, where he hosted rodeos.” Catherine said.

“That sounds fun. Why would he come here?” Yolana asked as she peeked a look at one horse. A spotted white and brown one.

“A little over 10 years ago, the cartel shot all of his horses and set his land on fire.” Catherine sadly explained.

“Oh,” was all Yolana said, not sure how to follow that up.

“Yeah, it sucks, but he always has a smile on his face. Says he’s blessed because he still has all of his family.”

Yolana smiled. You could lose your entire likelihood in a day, but that means nothing when you still have the ones you love. Though days were hard, Yolana still had Belvin and Mrs. Henderson. Though they couldn’t do much, they did enough to keep her sane.

“This is Lola, Ford, Big Ted, Beetle, Sunny and her sister Sunshine.” Catherine showed Yolana the first six horses, then named the other six on the other side. “Coal, Webster, Isabelle, Lucky, Tarot and King. These are our star horses. For right now, we only have these 12 star horses, but we plan on getting four more by the end of the year. At the other hall are our other horse stalls. We try to separate performing horses from non performing horses.”

Yolana looked back and forth between the separated bunch. The stars were more pretty, but they all were housed the same. And by pretty, the stars seemed to have fuller mains, bigger builds and shinier coats. They were probably a different breed altogether.

“Do you get a lot of movie deals for the horses?” Yolana asked, while peering inside the stall of one of their biggest, Tarot.

“Actually, yes, you wouldn’t think that there would be a lot of horses needed for movies other than westerns, but everything from big budget to low budget needs a well-trained horse or two. We got a Marvel deal not too long ago for Coal here.”

Catherine let Yolana walk past all the stalls, watching her randomly peer inside a few. “What do these other horses do? Things around the ranch?” Yolana asked.

“When I say non performing, I just mean non acting. These here are a mix of background horses and workhorses. Some are both. The star horses are the horses you might see the lead actors riding on. The ones that have to perform for the camera. Tricks and death scenes and all that.”

Yolana nodded her head while she admired the horse from the stall she was leaning on. It lightly ran its whiskers around her knuckles while Catherine explained their process. On that side of the stables, there were twenty horses. They all were boarded in the same hall, while the stars got a hall all to themselves. If that wasn’t a mirror to the ways of current society. The horse that moved from tickling Yolana’s hand with its whiskers, to nibbling her fingers with its lips, was named Mcmahon. Like Vince Mcmahon of WrestleMania. Yolana looked at the tan horse with his soft brown eyes. He kind of looked like Vince Mcmahon too. Yolana chortled.

“Come on, I’ll show you the photography studio and the corral.” Catherine waved Yolana over.

The walk from the studio, to the corral, and back to the house was a long one, and Yolana found herself nice and tired by the time Catherine brought her back to the steps of the back patio. But as soon as she took a breath under the shade of the pavilion, the back door opened and Nathan stepped out. It was hard for Yolana to exhale when he leisurely approached her under the shade.

“Oh! You done hiding?” Catherine said with the cheekiest of smiles on her face.

Nathan smiled and speedily reached out to grab at the ends of her hair and pulled. Catherine barely had her hand around his to stop him when her head jerked down from the pull.

“Ow! Dick!” she screamed.

“Can you mosey off somewhere so I can talk to Yolana privately, please?” He said, so sweetly. Like he didn’t just accost his sister.

Catherine hit him on the shoulder. “Jerk.” But that’s all that was done before she walked back into the house.

Nathan brought his attention back to Yolana, who hadn’t yet exhaled. Lifting his hand towards the direction she came from, Nathan asked if she would walk with him.

“I just came from the corral. I don’t think I can walk back out there,” Yolana explained.

Understanding, Nathan nodded. “How about we sit, then? We really need to talk.”

There was a large tree a little way off with two white iron chairs sitting under it. A smoking spot of sorts, with an old ashtray sitting on the ground between the chairs. Yolana was grateful for the seat and shade and was happy she would at least have that while Nathan gave her whatever bad news he had. She knew it would be uncomfortable regardless when it took him a minute to open his mouth.

“First, umm. I want to apologize.” Nathan swallowed. “Since we left, I haven’t properly communicated with you nor asked how you were doing. I ugh, I’m sorry about that.”

For the first time, while he rubbed his hands up and down his leg, Yolana saw Nathan’s nervousness. It was hard to see, but the rubbing of his leg and flitting of his eyes to and from her face were positive tells.

“When I was younger, I was prone to make impulsive decisions. I thought that I grew out of it, but yesterday proves that I still have those adolescent tendencies in me.”

Ohh. Yolana thought. He regretted everything, just as she thought. He’s going to take her back.

“Though this time is very different. I never took a person before.” Nathan looked into Yolana’s eyes. “How are you feeling?”

Yolana bit her lip, not answering the question but asking her own. “What are you going to do?”

Nathan’s eyebrows met his hairline. “I’m going to do what’s most comfortable for you.”

“Do you want me to go back?”

“Do you want to go back?”

Lips bitten, Yoanna slowly shook her head. Nathan slipped in a small smile.

“Good, because I don’t want to take you back.”

Yolana finally felt like she could exhale. Nathan didn’t want to send her back to Tapioca. He didn’t regret bringing her. Yolana felt half of her worries slip off her shoulders and into the grass below her. She stood there not knowing what was going to happen, but knowing she wasn’t going back to Tapioca.

“The reason I brought you here to my parents’ house was because I didn’t think it would have been respectful of me to have you stay with me. I didn’t think you would want to.” He paused. “I am aware, now, that I didn’t think to ask you either.”

Yolana nearly jumped out of her chair. “I don’t care. I mean, staying with you. I don’t mind.”

Nathan mirrored her posture, leaning nearly out of his seat. “Are you sure? This place has plenty of room for you and my parents are the nicest people on this side of Tennessee.”

“No offense, Nathan.” Yolana practically cut him off. “But I don’t want to be dropped off here like I’m a dog you found on the side of the road. I’ve been feeling pretty lousy these last 48 hours, worried to death you regretted everything. I don’t want to stay here. As nice as it is, I don’t. As long as you’ll have me, I would like to stay with you.” She took a breath. “It’ll be a little awkward, but I trust you.”

Yolana felt like the ranch would have been a wonderful place to stay. She was sure she could have come up with some kind of arrangement with Nathan’s parents to pay for her stay. However, Nathan wouldn’t be there with her and she couldn’t be surrounded by complete strangers right then, she just couldn’t. She needed Nathan, even if only to be a familiar face.

Nathan stared at the truth in her eyes and couldn’t stop himself from reaching out for her. He sat one of his gigantic hands over hers on her knee and rubbed his thumb over the soft skin. Yolana’s lip went back between her teeth in response to his soft touch and sweet smile he gave her.

“That settles it then. Yolana Humphry, you’re coming back home with me.”

#magic man #original fiction #original male character #original female character #black female lead #black female character #black reader #magic man chapter 9 #magic man chapter nine #southernswampmamma

2 notes · View notes

chiefatticcreator · 11 months ago

Note

Oscar adds Coco and Velvet to his harem. Hey, you can't break up a cute couple like that~

Oscar had approached the two girls together with his idea already in mind. They were friendly, cute, also hot, understanding... in short, the perfect pair to try a double-hypnosis on. If it failed, Oscar could just pretend it had been about something else entirely and the matter would blow over. So, with all that in mind, Oscar had invited the two girls to his room and they were now lookign at him expectantly.

"So, you said thsi was something about hypnosis?" Coco looked at him over her glasses, smiling.

"We're ready." Velvet smiled at him. "Do we need to do anything before?"

"No, don't worry. I just need to focus for a bit." Oscar smiled.

And he really hoped it worked.

++++

"Move your hips more." Coco berated Velvet. "You're riding him wrong."

"Right! Sorry, oscar!" Velvet blushed.

She was riding his cock, straddlign his hips while Coco looked on in approval. The more mature woman had already been fucked until her legs gave out. Oscar's thick cum oozing between her legs from her reshaped and gaping cunt, she had taken a more passive role for the next part of their fucking, advising Velvet on how to best pleasure their new master.

The bunny Faunus, true to her appearance, was squatting over Oscar's waist. Her shapely ass bouncing, clapping as she rose up and fell back down, moaning in pleasure as she felt his enormous dick stretch her. Staying focused on his face to gauge his reaction was difficult, the pleasure making her roll her eyes over and over. A blush had crept over her cheek, a tiny bit of embarassemenet remaining even as she was doing her best to make Oscar cum, and after havign already watched her partner being fucked.

"You're getting better." Coco smiled. Her hands was stroking Oscar's chest, occasionally leaning down to lightly kiss his lips.

"We'll make her a great slut for you, master~"

#submissiveking99 #oscar pine #oscar harem #velvet scarlatina #coco adel #rwby

6 notes · View notes

greypetrel · 2 years ago

Note

Raina and Merrill

“a kiss to your lover’s stomach as you travel down their body.”

Hello noony!

Thank you for the prompt! Ok, first time I write something smuttish, let’s see how I go… Be patient, AH-EHM. (Keeping this SFW-ish, but please if you’re a minor don’t click and don’t go on)

Tis the prompt list!

“a kiss to your lover’s stomach as you travel down their body.”

“You- you- you are infuriating!”

And with thus, Merrill pushes her onto the bed. Or well, Raina lets herself fall back, bouncing once on the mattress, with big eyes in surprise. It isn’t so rare to see Merrill angry - adorably so, she always wanted to pepper kisses on her pouty face when she did. Always had even before the elf confessed having feelings for her. But Hawke has never been the recipient of that rage, never been on the other side. She dares say nothing, looking at the other with interest from below, her expression managing to make her frown even more.

“And you’re smirking! It’s not funny!”

No, it isn’t funny. It is absolutely adorable, and beautiful seeing her so riled up, after helping Orsino with fugitive mages, forcing Isabela’s hand not to let Castillon leave on his own legs… After Sundermount and that fateful last meeting with her clan. She has, as a matter of fact, convinced herself that the elf would just wither and float away with her. It got better when Isabela was around, because Bela was better at talking about feelings, but when they were alone… Raina was one for action, for providing, she could predict her needs and meet them, but she lived with the fear that Merrill was just there to comply and say yes, just there because she had nowhere else to go, and that what she needed were words… And she had none that weren’t witty remarks. That ultimately, she would have dragged her down with her. And she would have hated herself for doing this to her. But as it happened most time with the elf, as it happened again and again since they’ve met, she surprised her and stood up against her, after they returned from the Gallows.

She wonders where Isabela is. She promised to stop by that evening. Raina also shooed Garrett away and told him to just go hang out with Fenris, as she didn’t know they finally got back together and were very badly trying to keep it hidden as if their rooms didn’t share one not so sound-proof wall. Oh, Isabela would love to see Merrill riled up like that, blushing and stretching her lips in a thin line, as she approaches her and bends over her bust, both hands propped on both sides of her ribcage.

“I’m serious, venhan. You shouldn’t have spoken to Meredith that way, it sounded…” She shakes her head. “…You challenged her.”

“She can’t touch me. She’s not the Viscount. Aveline-“

“Aveline won’t be able to do anything if she arrests you for hosting two mages… and if it turns out we’re blood ones!” She squats at her ribs, right on the left in the exact point she always left open when slashing. “Stop challenging her so openly!”

Got the message, it’s not the first time they speak about it and have the same discussion. Time to grab the situation in her hands. Or legs, as she moves them up and cross her ankles around Merrill’s bust, pushing so she can twist her and pin her down on the bed. There’s a oomph, but she’s controlling her movement and her weight, putting it mostly on her knees not to crush her completely, hands closed on her wrists and moving them up above her head. The pout is still on Merrill’s face, along with the deep crease between her eyebrows, but her cheeks are gaining colour, her Vallaslin less evident when she’s blushing. On to fix the pout, then.

“I’m sorry, love.” She starts, shifting to bend down and press a kiss on her brow, easying that angry line away. “I’m not dancing on Meredith’s hand like a puppet because she thinks she has some leverage. It’s plenty of time someone stands up to her methods.”

Other kisses, one on each of her eyes, delicate as she can muster. Cheeks, then, nose a small peck on her lips before travelling down to her neck.

“I’ll buy Isabela a ship and send you all away, I won’t let anything happen to you. Ok? Not if I’m alive. Tell me if you want me to stop.”

She keeps one hand to pin both wrists down, as the other travels to skim over her skin, caressing her cheek and delicately untying the knot of her scarf -the cloth is so soft, but she always forgets to ask her girlfriend what exactly it is. And, she’ll most likely forget again, as she slips it away from her neck, tossing it somewhere, and humms in appreciation as she has now more space to travel and the delicious peek of collarbones to nip. Which she does, gaining a small gasp. Working.

“Venhan.”

“Mh?” She asks, not really interested as she follows the tendon in her neck with more kisses, going straight for her ears. “Stop?”

“No, go on. You- ah. You said you would send us all away.”

“Yes?”

A delicate bite right on the tip, it works like magic every time to make Merrill squirm in her grasp. She grins, victory at hand. Oh, she’s terrible at showing verbally that she appreciates the concern -she does!- and even worse in accepting it. But, she can show her in other ways.

“It was like you weren’t counting yourself in. As if -Creators- As if you’re not thinking of coming.”

A pause, Raina licks a long line from her lobe to her tip, with a small whimper as a prize, before huffing and replying.

“Someone has to stay and clean up.”

It’s a joke, one of many, even if with a basic of truth. But Merrill, as most cases when it comes to her, doesn’t buy it for one second, and turns her head. Deliciously flushed, chest heaving, but still frowning. This won’t do.

Raina’s about to say something else, easing her grip on her hand and turning a little more back from her. But, not for the first time since they know each other, Merrill surprise her again.

Merrill snakes her hands away from her grasp, and takes advantage of having unbalanced her some to push up, hug her midsection and flip them both again. It’s quick, Raina has barely the time to register her, and she has the elf straddling her lap, one hand cupping her cheek to keep her face in place as she looks at her in the eyes, very seriously.

“No. Promise me you’ll come to.”

“Merrill it was-“

“NO. I won’t leave you too behind, you can’t ask me this. You’re coming too, this city…” She huffs, shaking her head. “They don’t deserve you setting fire to yourself to keep them warm. Promise me, Raina. Or we’ll stay here together. Bela would agree.”

And at that, at the seriousness, at the fire in her voice and the sentiment behind each word, her weight upon her grounding her in place, here and then and not letting her escape even with her mind… It is always difficult masking and diverting things with humour with Merrill. It is part of the reason they were there, after all. And, having her straddling her like that, pinning her in place and speaking with such decision and control, yelling she cared for her…

“O-ok.”

She complies, tentatively, the feeling of having another one in control weird but thrilling, stopping her tongue and having her heart beat faster in her ribcage.

“I promise.”

“Good.”

And with that, Merrill is satisfied, and seems to realise exactly how were they positioned. She blushes more, considering.

“I’m- I’m sorry, oh dear, I should-“

“No.”

Raina stops her, grabbing one of her hands that she was retracting against her chest and guiding it up, up above her head, crossing her wrist under hers as she did before with her.

“No, please I… I like this.”

She confesses, her turn to blush. And smiles at the other, wiggling her eyebrows to dispel some of the nerves. It works, as Merrill giggles at that and nods, bending down and pressing a long kiss to her lips. She replies, smiling into the kiss and letting her have her way and her fun, hands still crossed above and closing her eyes, losing herself to the feeling.

It is… The one in control usually between them was Bela, always Bela. (Where was she? She was losing all the fun) But even like this, it feels enticing and thrilling, not knowing what to expect enhancing every sensation as she in tow peppered kiss on her face and neck, nibbling at her pulse point the way she loved. Raina’s turn to giggle and sigh and gasps, with nerves as she let go and loses control, for once. But, she trusts Merrill, she trusts Merrill with her heart and all the mess that is inside and she keeps on sweeping under the carpet. She has patched her up more than once, without asking, without flinching. By the time she feels her hands untying the sash of her robes, and caressing her mid section, she is breathing hard. Merrill just giggles more, wiggling a little to bend down and trace the long, jarred scar the Arishok’s sword left with more kisses, featherlight and loving.

She tries to think of something witty to say, something fun. But right now, she has not even sarcasm to her to verbalizes what she’s feeling. So, instead, she lets actions express everything.

#dragon age #dragon age fic #da2 #merrihawke #raina hawke #writing petrel

1 note · View note

holytrinityofdisgust · 9 hours ago

Text

Contains: Urine, feces

She flung open the front door and dashed inside the house, one hand tightly squeezing her groin as the other hand held the keys. She elbowed the door shut and stood a moment, bouncing up and down in desperation in the foyer.

She wasn't sure if she could sprint to the nearest bathroom. The five bathrooms in her house now seemed uselessly out of reach, separated by the ostentatious square footage.

It was quiet. Someone would have heard the door, but she didn't hear any movements or voices. "Good, I must be alone," she thought.

She felt helplessly unable to budge from the spot, or to remove her hand from her crotch. She trembled, her mind racing.

Then a mischevious idea entered her mind. "This is MY house," she thought. She looked at the opulent tiles of the foyer that had costed $25 per square foot. A sort of excitement displaced panic.

Lightning-quick, she unzipped her jeans and slid them and her underwear to her ankles and instantly a harsh stream of piss hit the floor.

Normally, when she used the toilet she would take pains to make sure it was as quiet as possible, and there was minimal splashing. Even defecation required this control, to prevent clogging the toilet, in her reasoning. But now because she was alone and the bliss of relief was just so great, she didn't try to stem the flow at all. The hiss and splattering on the tiles echoed off the walls and high ceiling, like a concert hall.

"This is MY house..." she kept thinking with glee, "...and I can piss on the floor if I want to!"

She let a sigh escape her as she relished the sight of a large yellow puddle decorating her floor and getting her shoes wet.

She had been so preoccupied with her bladder that she only now became aware of her bowels gurgling insistently. As the stream of piss slowed to a trickle, she was feeling very aroused and mischevious. "Well, why not?" she thought.

So she stayed squatted and leaned forward a little. Knowing there was no toilet to clog, nor any water to splash her, she allowed her bowels to open all the way. She spread her buttcheeks to relish it even more.

First, a longish fart echoed off the walls, then an enormous log eagerly pushed its way out. Her body shivered with delight. It stretched her wide open, and she made no attempt to pinch it off. The log just lengthened and lengthened until it was able to touch the ground, at which point it fell under its own weight with a plop. She groaned a little as she continued to push out another one. It felt so, so good to defile her floor.

When she finished, she was almost disappointed, although the afterglow of such enormous relief was exquisite. And pissing and shitting on her own floor didn't feel like a failure, but a triumph, having overcome this awful situation on her own unconventional terms, successfully avoiding soiling her pants.

But the feeling of triumph evaporated when the floorboards of the nearby hallway creaked, and her husband sheepishly stepped around the corner in a t-shirt and boxers. She froze, her pants still around her ankles. She couldn't formuate any words. "It might be better," she thought, "if he had caught me burying a body!" But no: instead here she was, having deliberately and with gusto, shit on the floor like an animal.

But then she noticed the look in her husband's eyes. Not disgust, but... excitement? His cheeks were flushed and his boxers barely concealed an erection.

When she noticed this, she relaxed ever so slightly. Her voice managed to sqeak, "How long were you...?"

"The whole time," he said, his eyes going from his half-nude wife to the mess by her feet. He lingered on it, then his eyes locked back on hers.

"S-sorry..." she didn't know how to possibly explain this.

"That looked fun," he said with a little smile.

#omo #omorashi #omutsu #sc@t #bladder desperation #coprophilia #copro

0 notes

princess-peachescream · 6 months ago

Text

Astor dropped to his knees on the ice, pushing his stick in front of him as he gripped it, spreading his thighs as he flexed his hips down.

The new PT guy they had used a new stretch followed by a foam roll that had his hips feeling so good lately. He pushed down again, stretching his hips as his thighs spread further and he thrust his hips towards the ice.

Couldn’t cramp up during the game.

He kicked out a leg, stretching his left and than his right. Front and back and then side to side before squatting down and bouncing up and down with his hips.

Especially when Elise had finally agreed to come to one of his games.

They had been dating and were exclusive for nearly four months and she had been adamant about how his games were for him. She didn’t want to distract him or mess up any mojo. Something he blamed on her father being a degenerate gambler who had mortgaged their house twice before the Patriots became a dynasty and his gambling addiction became a profitable hobby and not a frowned upon bad habit.

But he had gotten her to agree to come to a game, promising that she could leave if they were losing and meet him at home. Promising he wouldn’t be in a bad mood if they lost. Promising he didn’t believe in superstition.

The jock strap he had worn since high school knew he was a bastard liar but his girlfriend didn’t need to know that.

His eyes lifted up, his eyes scanning as he looked for her in the crowd and then his eyes froze as he saw a sign.

Damn Daddy. What those hips do?

And there was his girlfriend, in the beanie she had stolen from him, a denim jacket bundled over a sweatshirt, and a shit eating grin on her face as he shook his head at her.

Pushing up he, swiveled his body before skating for a puck and taking a lazy shot at the net before skating around it and checking the boards in front of her. Stopping as he looked over his shoulder and saw the way she was smiling at him.

God, she was too pretty to be here. He suddenly regretted inviting her and letting all these fuckers see her.

I skated away, watching her as she sipped her beer, eyes on me before one of the ushers guided her towards her seats and I headed towards the tunnel to prep for my game and to overthink the fact I was madly in love with this girl and hadn't told her yet.

After the quickest shower in history and playing easily one of my best hockey games of my life, I was rushing towards the friends and family room to get Elise. She hadn’t sat with the wives and girlfriends, didn’t want to go in the room where little kids waited for dads with wives and long term girlfriends. Even though I was serious about her I wanted her to be comfortable.

Throwing the door open I saw her playing with the strap of her purse, nervous before she visibly relaxed seeing me.

My arms wrapped around her, lifting her off her feet as she laughed, soft enough that only I could hear her before I was covering her mouth with mine, kissing her until she could taste the desperation on my lips.

“Did you like my sign?” She teased as I held her hand, guiding her towards my car.

I sent her a look, her laughter loud as she curled up beside me, letting me wrap up her body with my arms.

“How did you even know about the stretches?” Her eyebrow raised at my question.

“Astor, why do you think I like watching at home? WIth all my battery operated boyfriends?” My cheeks flushed. This fucking girl.

Her mouth was hot on my ear as I helped her in the car, “What these hips do?”

"Why don't you crawl in the backseat and I'll show you."

#story

1 note · View note

watchmegetobsessed · 2 years ago

Text

PARENT TRAP

A/N: single dad harry is finally here! it took me sooo long to finish this, but its finally done! so i hope you'll like it!

WORD COUNT: 16k

WARNING: sexual content, divorce

SUMMARY: Harry has been crushing on the mother of her daughter's classmate and now that she has divorced, a bake sale finally brings them together.

MASTERLIST | SUPPORT ME!

Harlow is excitedly humming along to the music that’s flowing from the radio, her legs dangling from the seat, her curly ponytail bouncing with every move of her head as she follows the beat perfectly. Her daddy keeps glancing back at her through the mirror, his smile stretching wider and wider every time she gets more into the song, turning the ride to school into her own private concert.

The little girl’s love for music is no surprise, seeing that her dad is a musician. Harry introduced her to the magical world of music way before she was even born. When she was a baby, there were only two things that could calm her down and end any tantrum she threw: her daddy’s singing and Stevie Nicks’ singing. All tears dried up in an instant as soon as she heard her favorite songs.

It's the first day of school, Harlow is starting second grade and Harry is letting her out of his hold with a heavy heart, though it’s definitely easier than last year. Summer was filled with adventures, giggles and endless hot days spent together. Thanks to Harry’s flexible work schedule he could prioritize his most precious treasure while school was out, his daughter. Harlow spent two weeks with her mother in Chicago, Harry used that time to work like a maniac and make time for all the summer fun for him and his little princess.

Now everything is back to its usual way, Harlow will spend her weekdays in school and Harry will return to the studio like it’s a nine to five job.

He rolls into the school’s parking lot that’s filled with cars, parents dropping off the kids before heading into the office, so most of them are dressed nicely, while Harry is more on the comfortable side in his light-washed jeans, simple t-shirt and knitted cardigan. He has no reason to show up in a suit to record all day in the studio, staring at the panels, directing whatever singer he is working with for the day.

“Alright, end of show,” he chuckles, turning the radio off and getting out he rounds the car to help Harlow out of her seat.

She is wearing her favorite pink dress with her new sneakers and backpack and Harry’s chest swells with pride as he watches her jump out of the car and twirl around in excitement. They walk to the entrance hand in hand, Harlow asks Harry about what’s gonna be for dinner and he promises her to make her favorite if she’ll be a good girl in school.

Students from first to fourth grade usually gather in front of the building, the teachers wait for them in the morning and they go inside together. Harry spots Harlow’s teacher, circled by a few students already, so he knows it’s time to say goodbye.

Squatting down in front of her he fixes her ponytail and then he gathers her small hands in his big ones.

“I’ll see you in the afternoon, okay?”

“Can we get ice-cream on the way home?” she suggests with a cheeky smile, that never fails to warm Harry’s heart.

“Only if you–”

“If I’m a good girl today, I know!” she sighs dramatically. “I will be good, don’t worry.”

“Okay,” he smiles. “Come here, give me a hug.”

Harlow happily throws her arms around her daddy’s neck as he embraces her in a tight hug, breathing in her sweet scent, he presses a few kisses on top of her head before finally letting her go.

“Have a great day, I love you!” he calls out as Harlow is already walking over to her classmates.

“Love you too!” she sings back with a wave and then she is busy greeting her friends she didn’t see all summer.

Harry stands there for a bit longer, watching his daughter in complete awe. He can’t believe the tiny baby he held in his arms on the day she was born is not such an independent, smart little girl. She’s only seven, but she’s taught him so many things, he’ll be forever grateful for her.

“Dylan, wait!” a familiar, stressed voice hits his ears and looking to his right he is witnessing another morning scene, but it’s definitely different from the one he just got to experience with Harlow.

A boy, who is around twelve years old, dressed in all black with his hoodie covering his head is marching away, but he is stopped by the request from his mother behind him, who is busy with a smaller girl.

Harry knows the woman and the little girl too, because it’s Robin, Harlow’s classmate and her mother, Y/N. He remembers, because she caught his eyes straight away at the first parents’ meeting last year. Y/N is the kind of woman who is always so put together, looks stunning, like the CEO of a very important business, but there’s also an exceptional warmth that lingers around her, that makes Harry think that she is an excellent and loving mother to her kids.

Harry could feel himself crush on her the moment she walked into Harlow’s classroom in her pants suit and took a seat near his. He kept looking her way and felt like a school boy all over again.

This morning however, Y/N looks different. She is still gorgeous, don’t get Harry wrong, but something is off about her. She’s in a simple black dress, her attire is spotless as always, but it appears like she’s lost some weight, there are circles under her eyes and he can tell she’s been going through a stressful period probably.

Dylan, the boy, stops with an eye-roll, but doesn’t face his mother who is currently struggling to get Robin to put on her backpack properly.

“Honey, please! I can’t carry it up to the classroom for you!” Y/N begs and the girl whines before eventually taking the straps over her shoulders. Y/N lets out a relieved sigh, fixing her shirt before pressing a kiss to her cheek. “Have a good day, I’ll pick you up after school, okay?”

“Okay,” she nods before running off to join her friends. Y/N then steps over to Dylan. They are standing just a few feet away from Harry, so he can hear their conversation, and though he knows he shouldn’t be listening in on them, he just can’t help it.

“How long are you gonna be grumpy?” she asks, walking around the boy to look at him. She reaches out to fix the zipper on his hoodie, but he yanks away from her touch. Harry sees the hurt on her face, but she is great at masking it.

“Can I go?” Dylan asks, not even looking at his mom.

“Can I get a hug?”

“Mom, no!” he whines. “My friends are over there!”

“And you think they don’t hug their mom?”

“Not in public!” he retorts. Y/N clenches her jaw and decides to just let it go.

“Alright. I’ll pick you and Robin up after school, okay? Have a good day.”

“Bye,” he mumbles and walks over to his group of friends without even looking at his mother.

Y/N stands there and Harry could feel her disappointment and sadness, even as an outsider. It seems like Dylan has just reached the gates of puberty, which came with an immense amount of hate towards his parents, or at least his mother. His heart breaks for her, because something is telling him she did nothing to deserve to be treated like this, but pre-teens are just impossible sometimes.

For a moment he thinks about walking up to her and asking if she’s okay, but right when the thought is about to turn into action, she looks down at her watch and realizes how late it is.

“Oh shit,” she mumbles and turning around she runs back to her car, jumps in and drives away in a hurry.

Harry glances at the kids one last time, they are heading inside and he spots Harlow with Robin. He smiles and then slowly walks back to his car.

Of course, Harlow gets ice-cream when Harry picks her up after school. They stop by the park too and then head home to make dinner. She tells him all about her day and while Harry cooks she is on FaceTime with Frankie, her mom.

Co-parenting is now as easy as breathing air, they’ve been doing it for almost five years now. People tend to find it odd that Harlow lives with her dad and visits Frankie three times a year for longer periods, once in the summer, once in winter break and once in the spring usually. Between these occasions Frankie tends to visit too on weekends whenever she has the time.

She is a doctor, her working hours are crazy and she knew it well when she and Harry decided to part ways. Harry has always been the flexible one and they both knew he would be more stable when it comes to raising Harlow.

They might not be married anymore, but they still have love for each other and want to focus on what matters: Harlow.

“Daddy, here,” she runs into the kitchen with Harry’s phone in hand.

“Thank you, Love. Put it on the table, please. Food is almost ready.”

“Dad, did you and mom get a divorce?” she asks, taking her usual seat at the dining table, waiting for her dinner patiently. Harry stops for a moment, afraid where this might go, but he promised himself to always be honest with her.

“Yes. Years ago. Why?”

“Robin said her parents got a divorce too.”

His ears perk up, remembering the scene he witnessed this morning. He grabs two plates and pills them with pasta.

“Really? Is she sad about it?”

“Kind of. She’s just sad her dad moved out. She said her brother wanted to live with him, but their mom didn’t let him.”

“Hmm, I’m sure she has her reasons,” he says, placing the food on the table as he joins her. “So they are living with their mom now?”

“Yeah. Their dad visits every second weekend.”

“That sounds great.”

A divorce would very well explain the change he noticed about Y/N. The weightloss, the stress on her face, the circles under her eyes, it must have been challenging, managing a divorce and adjusting to becoming a single parent. Harry can’t help, but wonder what resulted in the end of her marriage.

“Be nice to Robin, okay? She is going through a tough time,” he softly says.

“We’re friends,” Harlow smiles proudly.

“You are? That’s great,” he smiles back and leaning over he presses a kiss to the crown of her head.

That night, when Harlow is sleeping Harry can’t help but let his curiosity take over. Sitting by his desk he pulls up the list of Harlow’s classmate’s names the teacher sent out last year and he looks up Robin’s name, her mom’s name and phone number next to it. Every parent got this list for emergencies, but Harry now uses it for something entirely different.

He types Y/N’s name into the search bar and scrolls through the results. Not everything is relevant, but a few links down he finds an article from last year that mentions her name and when he opens it he is met with a photo of her, so he knows he is at the right place. Harry finds out that she is an architect and she worked on some quite prestigious projects in the past, she is obviously good at what she is doing.

He falls down the rabbithole and looks up anything he can find about her. She has an introduction page on her company’s website, then he finds himself hopping over to social media and though it takes some time, he manages to find an Instagram page that, for his luck, is public. There are just a handful of photos from the past six years, but Harry thoroughly examines them all.

Y/N with a group of her friends, old pictures of Robin from when she was a toddler, but her face is never revealed, Dylan is seen in some too, there are some pictures of a lake and the same two dogs a few times and Harry wonders if they are hers or maybe a relative’s. A couple of selfies where she looks just as gorgeous as now and then there are the pictures with her husband.

Or ex husband, to be exact.

There are only three pictures, one at what appeared to be a wedding, one at some kind of dinner and one with the kids. It’s the last one where he is pictured and it’s from over a year ago. No trace of the man since then, and she doesn’t have a lot of other photos either, she hasn’t updated her profile in what appears to be months.

Harry is not quite the nosy type, but this time, he is dying to know more about Y/N and the lack of information is eating him away. He goes back and forth between the pictures where she can be seen and the longer he is staring at them the more he wants to know.

He is not an expert in social media, so as he is stalking her profile he accidentally taps on the follow button and when he realizes, his stomach drops.

“Fuck,” he breathes out and his first instinct is to unfollow her, but he knows that she probbaly has the notification sitting on her lockscreen, so there’s no use. At last, he just curses himself out and accepts it.

To stop himself from making it worse, he goes offline and gets ready to go to bed so he doesn’t feel like absolute shit in the morning. His phone lies discarded on his nightstand in the meantime and he doesn’t notice the new notification until he is in bed and wants to set an alarm for the morning. He’s surprised to see a notification from Instagram about a new follower.

Y/N has followed him back.

Reuniting with Harlow in the afternoon is Harry’s favorite part of the day. Seeing his little girl running towards him and jumping into his arms is something he wishes to experience every day for the rest of his life, though he knows these occasions are numbered so he is drinking up every moment of it.

Today is no different, Harlow starts sprinting towards Harry the moment she spots him, a toothy grin stretched across her rosy cheeks as she practically smashes against her daddy.

“Hi dad!” she giggles as he lifts her up from the ground easily, holding her in one arm, his free hand taking her backpack off her shoulders. He doesn’t notice, but some moms around them yearningly watch as he holds his daughter with ease, some are having gentle thoughts about their father-daughter bond, but some are definitely hiding dirty fantasies about the single dad who is a well-liked figure among the mothers. Most of the time Harry doesn’t even process the stares he gets, and when he does, he chooses to ignore them.

“Hey Princess, how was your day?” he asks, carrying her towards the car.

“Good. How was your day?” she asks back.

“I missed you,” he sighs dramatically, earning a kiss on the cheek from the girl in his arm.

“Do you just sit around all day and miss me?” she sassily asks and Harry barks out a laugh as he puts her down so she can climb into the car.

“That’s exactly what I do while you’re at school,” he grins, strapping her in before taking his seat behind the wheel.

“Oh, I have news for you, dad,” Harlow announces, as they are slowly inching their way out of the full parking lot.

“Yeah? Tell me!”

“We’re having a bake sale soon and I signed you up!”

“Oh, wow!” he smiles. He doesn’t mind helping out and baking is actually a hobby of his.

“And this year parents are pairing up for it so I signed you up with Robin’s mom!” she adds and Harry almost steps on the break hearing this little detail.

“Robin’s mom? Really?” he asks with wide eyes.

“Yeah,” she nods, oblivious to why her dad is so shocked about it.

Harry thinks about how he followed her on Instagram the other day, the panic he felt and then seeing her follow him back even though they haven’t really talked, he faintly remembers them exchanging a few words at a parents’ meeting, but nothing more. Now they will have to bake together.

It will either go painfully awkwardly, or something good might come out of it. He’ll have to wait and see.

He is in the studio when he gets a text from a number he doesn’t recognize. He sees the screen lighting up, but he is in the middle of a session so he discards it until they go on a short break. When he finally has the time to have a look at it, excitement rushes through his veins.

UNKNOWN: Hey! It’s Y/N, Robin’s mom from Harlow’s class. Apparently we were signed up together to bake for the bake sale. Maybe we could meet up for a coffee sometime to plan out what we’re gonna do!

Harry is quick to type a response back.

HARRY: Sure! I’m flexible, whenever it’s good for you, I’ll make it work!

He doesn’t expect a fast reply since he didn’t answer straight away and he imagines she’s busy at work, but his phone lights up just seconds later.

Y/N: Great! :) Tomorrow at one?

HARRY: Perfect. :)

They exchange a few more texts about the place and then the conversation ends, they both go back to their day. And Harry is looking forward to meeting her as if it was Christmas coming up.

It’s not a date.

He keeps reminding himself, but it feels like he is getting ready for a date. The first one in what feels like a century. It’s also his first crush, dating and pursuing women in general hasn’t been on his agenda since before he started dating Frankie, which was over a decade ago. Even after his marriage ended, he was so focused on Harlow and his work that he simply didn’t have time to meet women and go out on dates.

But this is not a date.

He is just meeting a woman for coffee to talk about baking.

He leaves the studio a little earlier than needed so he is not late. The café they chose is near Y/N’s workplace, since she only has an hour to spare before she needs to be in a meeting. Walking in he scans over the menu and orders a simple black coffee along with two muffins before taking a seat at a table.

Y/N arrives not even five minutes later. She strolls in wearing a blue pants suit, her purse in one hand, phone in the other as she looks around and eventually spots Harry.

“Hi! Have you been here for long?” she asks, checking the time, but she arrived perfectly on time.

“No, just a few minutes,” Harry smiles at her standing up from the table to greet her, though there’s a pause as neither of them knows how to. Handshake? Kiss on the cheek? Hug?

At last they meet for a short, kind of half hug before she sets her purse down on the other chair.

“I’ll get a coffee and then we can talk.”

Harry watches her walk up to the counter, she asks for a latte and then types away on her phone while waiting. She looks a tiny bit more collected than the last time he saw her, but he can tell she’s had less stressful days before. When she returns to the table she places her phone facing down and turns all of her attention to Harry.

“Harry, I’ll be honest with you, I’m terrible at baking,” she admits first thing with a chuckle.

“Well, then we might be a great duo, because I’m actually pretty good at it.”

“Oh, then you’re my hero,” she chuckles. “I’ll be honest, I wasn’t the happiest when Robin said she signed me up, life has been… a bit hectic lately, baking stands after the last thing on my list,” she huffs. “But I’m glad I don’t have to do it alone,” she adds with a small smile.

“It’ll be fun! The girls can have a playdate in the meantime.”

“Ah, that would be amazing,” she sighs in relief. “When is the bake sale?”

“Um, on the tenth, in two weeks, I think.”

“Alright, I guess we should make everything fresh, right?”

“That would be ideal,” he nods.

“Great. Would you mind it if we did it at my place? I don’t have anywhere to put my son and I really don’t want to leave him home alone,” she sighs.

“Sure, no problem.”

“I promise I have everything we need despite my poor baking skills,” she jokes. “But Dylan is…”

“Y/N, no need to explain. I’m happy to go over so you don’t have to worry about him.”

“Thank you.”

They discuss what they plan to bake and what ingredients they’ll need and how they will split the shopping part. Harry finds it that Y/N is easy to talk to and she tries her best to be flexible and work together with him the best way possible.

“Okay, so muffins, chocolate chip cookies and brownies it is. We’re playing it safe,” she chuckles, summarizing their plan. “Gosh, muffins used to be Dylan’s favorite, but I feel like he would scream at me if I gave them any,” she huffs and Harry notices the sadness that flashes through her face.

“Um, I’m not trying to be nosy and we practically just met, but Harlow mentioned that Robin told her you just got divorced? I’m sure it’s been a tough time and I’m sorry too, going through a divorce is challenging even if you part ways in peace.”

The smile fades from her lips as she looks down at her drink with a tiny nod.

“You’re divorced too?” she asks.

“Yeah.”

She stays silent and stares into her drink that’s half empty by now. Folding her arms over her chest she lets out a shaky breath.

“Does it get better?” she asks and there’s so much behind those simple words and Harry can feel the weight of them. Harry reaches over and places a warm hand on her arm, giving it a gentle squeeze.

“It does. I know it seems like you’re stuck now, or even going backwards, but you’ll get through it.”

Their eyes meet and hold each other’s gaze for a few heartbeats and in that moment they both leave that café and enter somewhere safe and hopeful. Then the barista calls out someone’s name for their order and the moment is gone. Harry clears his throat and busies himself with his empty cup before they venture to another, lighter topic.

They sit around for a little longer, just like two friends talking over a nice coffee, but then it’s time for Y/N to go back to the office.

“Harry, it’s been so nice! I’m not really friends with any of the moms from Robin’s class, but I feel like we’ll be a good team,” she smirks as Harry opens the door for her and they step out of the café.

“I’m not really friends with anyone either,” he smiles softly.

“What? I thought moms are fighting for your attention,” she barks out a laugh, but Harry just furrows his eyebrows, tilting his head as he looks back at her. “Come on, you’re known as the hot dad around school grounds.”

His eyebrows raise at her blunt comment and she realizes he’s been truly oblivious to the stares and whispers behind his back from mothers that don’t get what they want from their husband.

“Oh wow, sorry, this is awkward now,” she chuckles nervously, realizing it might have been weird to hear it.

“No worries, I was just… not aware that I’m even known,” he chuckles.

“You haven’t noticed the stares? Mothers ogle you like crazy whenever you pick Harlow up.”

“I’m usually more focused on her,” he admits bashfully. “So I’m the hot dad. Good to know.”

It’s obvious that Y/N feels awkward that she was the one who delivered the news to him, but Harry finds it cute, the way she bites into her bottom lip.

“I really need to get back now. I’ll see you soon, I guess,” she switches quickly, checking the time.

“Sure, have a great day, Y/N,” he smiles and he pulls her into a short hug before they part ways.

Harry thinks about how it felt like when she was pressed up against his chest, even if it was just for one second.

“Okay, I might have gone a little overboard with the decoration,” Harry admits, as Y/N is inspecting the millions of sprinkles, candies and chocolate chips on the counter, laughing happily like a little kid.

“No, this is amazing!” she chuckles. “They will turn out amazing!”

Harry blushes and he’s glad she doesn’t find it weird how overboard he went with the shopping. He’s been looking forward to their work together, mostly because he couldn’t wait to see Y/N again, but he was also excited about the baking part.

Harlow and Robin are in the living room, watching The Little Mermaid and playing, Dylan is hiding somewhere in his bedroom and the adults are taking over the kitchen. Y/N is in a more casual outfit, but she still took his breath away when she opened the door and welcomed them. In a pair of loose jeans and a simple, gray sweater, she still looks incredibly stylish and put-together.

“Alright, you’re the boss today, I’m just assisting,” she smiles, one hand on her hip, the other one on the counter. Harry thinks about how badly he wants to grab her by her waist and pull her in for a kiss, so he gulps hard, forcing himself to focus on the baking.

“Okay. Then let’s start with the cookies.”

They find their rhythm easily, Harry is moving around in her kitchen as if it’s not his first time here and Y/N does everything he asks her perfectly. They are, indeed, an amazing team. While they work they talk and laugh and have a blast, as if they’ve been good friends since forever.

When it’s time to decorate they ask the girls to help them and they happily cover everything in sprinkles, going all out with the supplies Harry bought.

Once everything is done, they box them up so they can easily take them to the school tomorrow. It’s still not too late and the girls are having so much fun that the parents decide to let the playdate last a little longer, so they share some iced tea and have a chat sitting by the kitchen island. It’s all fun and joy until Dylan comes down to drink something. He marches into the kitchen, ees glued to the ground, ignoring everyone else as he walks over to the fridge.

“Dylan, say hi to Harry. You didn’t even come down to greet our guests,” Y/N tells him, earning the most annoyed groan Harry has ever heard.

The boy stops and turns around standing like a stone, clearly irritated that someone even said a word to him.

“Hi,” he grumbles before turning back to the fridge right away to grab himself a can of coke.

“Dylan, no coke after six, you know the rule,” Y/N warns him, to which he just tosses the can back and slams the fridge shut.

Harry can feel the tension spiking and he’s quietly observing the scene in front of him.

“Drink some water, or there’s some tea left in the–”

“I don’t want tea or water, I want coke!” he whines. “Dad lets me drink coke whenever I want!”

“Well, then I’ll need to have a chat with your father,” Y/N comments under her breath. “Water, Dylan. Drink water,” she repeats, the boy rolls his eyes and grabs a bottle of water before storming out of the kitchen. “God, this is a disaster, I’m sorry,” she groans, pinching the bridge of her nose.

“No need to apologize. You both are going through a tough time.”

“But it feels way worse than what I was expecting. I knew it would be hard, but… And Will is absolutely no partner in the process, he is trying to play the victim, like I’m the monster for destroying our family when he is the one who fuck three women in the past two years.”

Harry’s eyes widen at the blunt information about her marriage and though he never met this Will guy, he knows he is a total idiot. He has to be if he cheated on a woman like Y/N with three different women.

“Wow, that sounds… awful,” Harry admits truthfully. “How did you… May I ask how you found out?”

“He accidentally paid for a romantic getaway with the wrong card and I saw everything he paid for, the hotel, the food and drinks and of course, the couple's massage. He was supposed to be at a conference that weekend. I did some digging after that and then confronted him. He tried to deny it, but it’s hard to play innocent when I have proof. He moved out the next day and I filed for a divorce a week later. This was in January, but it got official in the summer.”

“What took so long?”

“He’s been a real bitch about it,” she rolls her eyes. “He really tried to make it look like I threw him out heartlessly and he was convinced he deserves a second chance. Maybe I would have considered it if it was just a one time thing. But it was several women on several occasions. This was not just a slip up, he came home these past two years knowing damn well that he chose to do this. Of course I don’t want anything to do with him after that.”

“Understandable,” Harry nods in agreement.

“Well, he thinks otherwise and it’s been his hobby to make me miserable. We agreed not to tell the kids what he did, I don’t want them to turn against him, he’s still their father, but apparently, Will is not mature enough to do the same. He’s been trying to lure the kids closer to him and away from me, so he is the ultimate good cop. He lets them do anything and everything, pizza for breakfast, candies all the time, he takes them to every damn movie they wanna see, and then I’m the bad one who tries to regulate their fun.”

“I assume Dylan prefers to be with his dad.”

“Of course,” she rolls her eyes again, clearly frustrated over the situation, but there’s not much she can do about it. “I’m suddenly the enemy. Dylan only knows that we decided to get a divorce, but he doesn’t know why. All he experiences is his dad being the coolest guy ever and his mom being a bitter bitch,” she groans and looking down at her drink she obviously wishes it had alcohol in it. “Sometimes I just wanna tell him how big of an asshole his dad is, but I’m really trying to be the bigger person here,” she sighs.

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” is all Harry could say.

“It’s not your fault,” she shrugs with a soft, but tired smile. “How about you?”

“Me?”

“You’re divorced as well, right? How did that go?”

“Oh, it was surprisingly peaceful. It was a mutual decision, we fell out of love. If I’m being honest, we rushed into that marriage way too fast.”

“So you’re on good terms?”

“Yeah. We try to make it work, focus on Harlow and what’s best for her.”

“That must be amazing, being partners even when you’re not married anymore,” she sighs dreamily. “I never thought I would say something like this, but I’m jealous of your divorce!” she chuckles, trying to lighten the mood.

“It’ll get easier. He can’t be an asshole forever, it’s too tiring,” he jokes.

“Oh, you don’t know Will. Being an asshole is in his genes,” she snorts with a laugh.

The bake sale is always a big success and this is Harry’s first time as a seller. Now that Y/N has pointed it out for him that other moms usually ogle him, he can actively feel the stares on him, so it could easily be an awkward event for him, but he is focusing on Y/N next to him behind their little stand. Their baked goods are selling great, especially the brownies, so they clear their stand in no time, just lingering around, socializing with the other parents though when no one is listening they agree that it’s not really their crowd.

“Maybe we should open a bakery,” Harry jokes as they are packing up their stand at the end of the bake sale.

“You should, but I’m not sure I should leave my career for baking,” she chuckles.

“What are you talking about? You were great at measuring the ingredients,” he smirks, bumping his hip against his.

“Alright, okay, I’ll join you,” she smiles bashfully.

Harry helps with the now empty boxes, loading them into Y/N’s car and they call out for the girls who are running around in front of the building, letting them know it’s time to leave. All he can think about is how this could be the last time he is seeing Y/N for a long time and that he wants to spend more time with her. If he had the guts he would ask her out, but he’s not even sure if she’s ready to date or even wants to date at this point.

“Um, maybe we could have playdates more often. The girls seem to be good friends,” Harry suggests, glancing over at Robin and Harlow, who are making their way towards the cars, still playing around happily.

“Sure! That sounds great, I’m sure they’ll be happy to spend more time together,” she nods smiling.

“And you know, if you need help with anything, you can call me. I know how hard it is to do it all alone, I’m happy to help, even if it’s just maybe picking Robin up. I’m always the one getting Harlow, it’s no big deal if I take them both.”

“Really?” she asks and he can see the gratitude in her eyes.

“Of course.”

“That would be… amazing, thank you!”

She surprises him with a warm, friendly hug and he can feel that they’ve just gotten closer to each other in every kind of way. It’s a tiny, fleeting moment, but it burns into Harry’s memories probably forever.

They don’t talk for a couple of days, carrying on with their separate lives. It’s about a week later when Y/N calls Harry in the middle of the day, luckily, he can pick it up right away.

“Hey, what’s up?” he asks, leaning against the wall in the studio’s hallway.

“Hey, um…Can I ask you a favor?”

“Sure, of course!”

“Can you pick Robin up today? I have a little situation with Dylan and I’m not sure I’ll make it in time to pick her up.”

“No worries, but is everything alright?”

“Not really,” she sighs. “He got into a fight today and Will picked him up, because I couldn’t answer the phone when the school called me, so I need to get him now from his father.”

“Oh, I see. Don’t worry about Robin, the girls will be just fine while you focus on Dylan. Do you want me to drop her off at yours when you’re home?”

“No, I’ll just pick her up, don’t want you to drive her around, you’re already doing me a huge favor.”

“You sure? It’s no problem.”

“Positive,” she chuckles softly. “Thank you Harry.”

Harry wishes it wasn’t an emergency that connected them again, but he’s glad Y/N felt safe enough to reach out to him when she needed help. When he’s done with work he heads to the school as usual, but this time, two little chatty girls end up on the backseat of the car.

“Is Robin sleeping over tonight?” Harlow asks in excitement.

“No, Honey. Her mom will pick her up later.”

“Why couldn’t she pick me up?” Robin asks, but she doesn’t seem disappointed that her mother was absent.

“Something came up, but everything is alright, don’t worry. You guys can work on your homework together.”

The girls are being angels, Harry cuts some apples for them while they work on their homework by the kitchen island while he starts preparing for dinner. He has just set the table when he sees a car pulling up on their driveway and Harry watches Y/N walk up to their front door.

“Hi,” he greets her, opening the door for her before she could even ring the doorbell.

“Hi, I hope it’s not too late,” she breathes out, stepping inside.

“No, don’t worry about it. The girls finished their homework, we were just about to have dinner, want to stay?”

“Would love to, but Dylan is in the car and I’m not sure I can get him out of there,” she sighs, shaking her head. “But thank you so much for everything, Harry. You saved me.”

“No problem, I told you, I’m happy to help.”

Robin says goodbye to Harlow and Y/N grabs her backpack as they head out to the car. She runs ahead while Y/N turns back to Harry one last time.

“Dylan is spending the weekend with Will. Maybe we could meet up with the girls? We like to go to the park on Saturday.”

“That sounds amazing,” Harry nods, excited to have the opportunity to see her again soon.

“Okay, then I’ll text you later. And again, thank you,” she repeats herself before pulling him into a quick hug. He doesn’t even have the time to put his arms around her before she’s already jogging towards the car.

He leans against the doorframe and Harlow runs up next to him, waving at them as the car backs out of the driveway, Dylan sitting in the back with the most hurt look Harry has ever seen while Robin is happily waving back at her friend. Y/N smiles at Harry through the window one last time before they roll down the street and disappear.

“Here,” Harry softly hands Y/N her coffee as he returns to the park from the café across the road.

“Thank you, how much–”

“Don’t even try to pay me back,” he chuckles as he sits on the bench beside her, taking a sip from his simple, black coffee. The girls are taking over the playground, it’s a beautiful day and Harry is glad Harlow can spend so much time outside.

“So, do you want to talk about what happened this week?” Harry carefully asks. He doesn’t want to be nosy, just trying to be the support Y/N might need, though he is also dying to know more about her, regarding anything in her life.

Y/N exhales slowly, her eyes following the girls around as she fidgets with the lid of her coffee cup.

“Dylan apparently got into a fight at school. No one really saw what happened, the teacher just caught him punching another boy. He was sent to the principal and then they tried to call me to pick him up, because they decided to send him home for the rest of the day. But I was in a meeting and couldn’t answer, so they called Will. He then went in, the principal told him what happened and that Dylan might have to see the school’s advisor a few times after the incident. Will then took him home and when I called him on my way from work he basically said that I’m a terrible mother, because I wasn’t available when my son needed me.”

Harry can feel his anger rising, but he bites his tongue and lets Y/N finish before he puts in his two cents.

“It was just thirty minutes. Thirty minutes later I was already sprinting out of work, I don’t think that’s too late, of course I can’t drop everything instantly, I have a job and a boss, I can’t just come and go whenever I want to!”

“There’s nothing wrong with that, Y/N.”

“Right?” She sighs. “Anyway, I went to Will’s, fully prepared to have a talk with Dylan about his actions, I had a little speech ready and all that. Then I arrived and I ended up being lectured! This… fucker… had the nerve to lash out on me for not answering the phone when the school called me, he was praising himself for dropping everything instantly and picking Dylan up right away. It’s easy to do that when you’re your own boss in a business that barely makes any profit,” she scoffs. “We got into a fight, Dylan heard most of it and all he understood was that I apparently made a mistake so now he wants to spend every weekend with Will.”

“Can he do that? I mean, don’t you have an agreement?”

“I was stupid enough not to limit how much Will can see them, I thought I was doing the right thing, but it’s biting me in the ass.”

“So what are you gonna do now?”

“I have no idea,” she chuckles bitterly. “If I keep Dylan away from his dad he’ll just hate me more. But if I let him spend more time with him, the same thing will happen, because Will is working harder than the devil to turn him against me. It’s an impossible situation.”

“Has he always been this close with his dad or is it just the divorce that brought them together?”

“I always had a feeling Will prefered Dylan over Robin. Which is just fucked up, you don’t choose between your kids. But he never really knew how to deal with a girl, so he spent more time with Dylan. They both like playing video games, so they’ve been bonding over that lately. I guess Dylan feels closer to him because they have more in common and he always looked up to Will. I never thought this would turn out as a disadvantage.”

She looks down at her coffee, deep in her thoughts before taking a sip and finally turning to face Harry.

“It’s such a mess, right? I’m a mess.”

“You’re not a mess, Y/N. You’re doing everything you can to get through it, so don’t blame yourself. Will should grow up and be your partner for the sake of the kids.”

“We haven’t been separated for a whole year, but I can’t even believe we were once married,” she groans, her head falling back for a moment. Then, as if she realized something, she looks at Harry. “I’m sorry for always dumping my drama on you, this must be annoying.”

“Y/N, I asked you,” he chuckles. “I’m happy to listen, to help, anything you need.”

“You’re such a nice man, Harry,” she sighs. “I’m sure you haven’t been having any problem with dating since your divorce.”

“There’s no problem, because I don’t really date,” he admits with an awkward chuckle.

“What?” her eyes widen. “You’re just joking, right?”

“No,” he shakes his head with a shrug. “It’s not really my priority. I spend most of my free time with Harlow, I just… never got around to get myself out there, I guess.”

“But do you want to?”

“Ideally, I don’t want to be alone forever. I’m not against dating, I’m just not looking actively.”

“Hmm… I get it. It’s just shocking that women are not throwing themselves at you everywhere you go,” she snorts out a laugh before taking another sip from her coffee.

“Because I’m the hot dad?” he jokes.

“Well, duh!” she laughs.

“You keep calling me hot, I might think that you’re into me, Y/N.”

She almost chokes at his comment, which just entertains him even more, he likes how nervous she got over his comment.

“I-I’m not trying to– I mean you’re… Oh God.”

“Relax,” he laughs, placing a hand on hers for a moment. “I was just messing with you.”

“God, I hate you,” she chuckles, bumping her shoulder against his.

“I hope you don’t, because I actually like you.”

There’s a switch in the conversation thanks to Harry’s little confession, but he just couldn’t keep it in any longer. She seems surprised, but pleasantly at his words, staring back at him with wide eyes.

“It’s hard not to like you,” he adds with a shy smile. “And if you think I’m the hot dad then I can admit that you’re a hot mom.”

“Oh my God, you’re gonna make me giggle like a little girl,” she laughs, covering her mouth.

“I’m sorry, I just couldn’t bite my tongue any longer,” he chuckles, looking down at his hands in his lap. “Just thought I would share. I’m not expecting anything to change, I know you have enough on your plate now.”

“I like you too, Harry,” she admits and his heart is soaring. “I’m just not sure I’m ready to take this step with anyone at the moment.”

“I completely understand. I’m happy to be just friends,” he reassures her kindly. She smiles at him with gratitude in her eyes, this moment means a lot to both of them in many different ways.

They sit in silence for a couple of minutes, watching the girls play around the swings and then she’s the first one to speak up.

“Did we just admit that we’re crushing on each other?” she asks with a grin.

“I guess so, yeah,” he nods, mirroring her expression.

“This felt like middle school all over again.”

“You want me to pull your hair?” he teases her, making her laugh out loud.

“Ah, I’m okay without that, thank you. But it was… refreshing. I haven’t felt like this in a long time.”

“Glad I could be the one who brought the feeling back to you,” Harry smiles at her sweetly, bumping his shoulder against hers.

They fall into a rhythm. Constantly texting throughout the day, sharing pictures randomly, helping each other out whenever it’s needed, their bond strengthening along the way. It’s not just Y/N’s messy situation they talk about, but anything and everything.

And Harry can feel himself falling.

He’s patient, though. He knows he needs to wait and let Y/N heal and figure things out before she could get back to dating and when that moment finally comes, Harry will be there waiting for her.

She truly surprises him when she takes the first step out of the friend zone.

“So, what are you doing this weekend?” she asks when they are randomly talking on the phone one evening. Originally, Y/N called to ask for some help with homework, because Robin didn’t remember what exactly needed to be done, but it soon turned into some private chit-chatting.

“Not much, Harlow is having a sleepover at my mum’s, so I’ll be alone for most of the weekend.”

“That’s great, because my kids are gonna be away too, so I thought we could do something that doesn’t include a playground, homework or kids meal,” she chuckles and just the sound of it brings a smile to Harry’s face. Harry is about to answer when she adds at last: “It could be a date.”

“A date?” he breathes out.

“Yeah. If you want it to be. It’s fine if we just hang out as friends, I don’t–”

“It’s a date,” he reassures her and he can almost feel her relief over the phone.

“Great.” Harry knows she’s smiling on the other end of the call, he can tell.

“Alright, then I’ll plan everything out. Saturday?”

“Saturday sounds amazing.”

Harry wants this date to be as perfect as possible. It’s not just his first date with Y/N, but also her first date since her divorce. He wants her to feel secure, comfortable and cared for, so she doesn’t feel like she made a mistake.

Therefore, he pays extra attention to tailor this date to her liking.

It’s nothing out of the ordinary, they go to a gallery, then grab dinner and take a walk, but his attention to the details is what makes it outstanding. He remembered Y/N saying how much she loves contemporary art, but she hasn’t had the time to go to any galleries these past years, so Harry takes her to a promising young artist’s exhibition which she absolutely adores, so the evening starts out perfectly.

Then they have dinner at an Indian place Y/N once mentioned. She used to go there often with her parents so it’s a piece of nostalgia for her that brings back some precious memories. The food is amazing, they talk like old friends and the conversation flows naturally, there’s no awkwardness, no weird silences. It’s simply perfect.

As the last stop of the date he takes her to a hidden little park and of course, he’s got reasons for that as well.

“How come I never knew there’s a park around here? We live so close!” she chuckles.

“Because it’s kind of… private,” he smiles as he stops at a massive gate that appears to be just a simple driveway, so Y/N is looking at him confused.

“We’re not gonna get in trouble for this, right? I don’t want to run from the cops,” she chuckles as Harry opens up the gate just enough so they can go inside.

“Don’t worry, I got permission to go inside, I know the owner,” he grins, holding out a hand for her that she gladly takes and they walk in, the gate sliding closed behind them.

“What is this place?”

“I worked with a guy about a year ago, he is an amazing musician and producer. His wife is French and comes from the countryside where her family had this massive mansion with the most beautiful garden.”

As they walk further Y/N finally gets a glimpse of the breathtaking yard that’s hidden from the outside, flowers and greenery everywhere she looks, a dreamy fountain in the middle with a naked female figure serving as the most beautiful gem of the garden.

“She would talk about how much she misses the garden when they moved here, so he surprised her with this. Her own little piece of her home. And see the fountain?” he asks, giving her hand a gentle squeeze.

“Yeah, it’s beautiful.”

“It’s a replica of the one they had in France.”

“Oh my, this is the most romantic thing I’ve ever heard!” she gasps as they slowly walk around the garden.

They wander around, feeling like they have entered a whole new world, the stars shining bright above them and the millions of flowers surrounding them, the gentle splashing of the water coming from the fountain that Y/N keeps staring at, because it’s simply the most beautiful thing she’s ever seen.

Harry is proud of himself, Y/N hasn’t stopped smiling all evening, so he knows tonight turned out just as he planned. He felt rusty at the beginning, he can’t even remember the last time he was on a proper date, but this was a good start for the both of them.

It’s quite late by the time Harry takes her home, but neither of them truly wants the evening to end.

“I had an amazing time, Harry. Thank you,” she smiles up at him as they reach her home.

“Does this mean we can do it again sometime?”

“Definitely,” she chuckles.

Then comes the first awkward moment of the night. It’s not even that awful, it’s just that Harry’s not sure how far he can go. He’s been thinking about kissing her all evening, but he doesn’t want to cross any lines and push her too much.

“Harry?” she breathes out as they stand just a foot apart.

“Yeah?”

“You can kiss me. I-I mean if you want, I don’t–”

He doesn’t need more, crossing the distance left between them he presses his lips against his, circling his arms around her waist as he pulls her into his embrace. It’s the perfect ending for a perfect date and Harry knows he’ll have a hard time from now on to behave around Y/N, knowing how she tastes, what her lips feel like against his and how her tiny moans sound. They devour each other, it feels like years worth of drought is washed away and they experience a kind of passion neither of them thought they would feel again.

It’s hard to hold back and not take it as far as possible. Harry is aching to get, feel and taste more of her, but he knows he needs to slow down. Every fiber in his body is screaming not to stop, but his consciousness is awake enough to draw the line. He pulls back, though he goes in for a few more kisses before forcing himself to stop before he can’t control himself.

Y/N buries her face into the crook of his neck as they stay like that, wrapped in each other’s arms, bathing in the comfort and warmth of this significant moment. Harry can’t stop himself from pressing a few soft kisses to her forehead, wishing he could do this every day, whenever he wants to.

The moments stretch long, but eventually they let go of each other, not too willingly thought.

“I hope you don’t regret going on a date with the hot dad,” Harry cheekily smirks.

“Not at all,” she chuckles. “It was easily the best date I’ve ever been on.”

“Damn, it’ll be hard to outdo it next time,” he sighs, making her laugh.

“Sorry,” she grins, but there’s no remorse in her reaction.

“Alright, enjoy the rest of your kids-free weekend,” Harry smiles as he starts backing away, but then steps back to her once more, stealing one last kiss. “Okay, bye!” he sighs, forcing himself to walk away.

“Bye Harry!” she chuckles.

The upcoming week turns out quite hectic for the both of them. Y/N got a new project at work and as always, she has her hands full of her kids. Harry’s pretty busy too, he promised to help her mum paint her kitchen, so whenever he’s not at work or spending time with Harlow, he’s over at his mum’s home with a roll attached to his hands.

They don’t get to see each other in person and though talking on the phone and constantly texting is great too, neither of them can stop thinking about how good their date was, spending time alone, in person.

It’s a total coincidence they arrive at the school at the same time on Friday.

Harry spots Y/N first as she is walking towards the building from the parking lot, typing away on her phone in her usual work attire. As sappy as it sounds, his heart skips a beat at the sight of her, he’s been thinking about her a lot all week and now she is right there in front of her.

Leaning against a pillar he watches her with a cheeky smile, waiting for her to notice him. She looks up from her phone and at first, her gaze rushes over him, but then her eyes bounce back on him and a wide smile stretches across her face.

“Lovely to see you here, Miss Y/L/N,” Harry smirks and pushing himself away from the pillar he steps closer to her and dares to press a tiny kiss to her cheek. She doesn’t seem to mind the affection at all.

“Mr. Styles,” she smiles bashfully. “How are you?”

“I’m good. A little tired. How about you?”

“Same,” she sighs, folding her arms over her chest.

“How is the situation with Dylan and Will?”

“Eh, it’s fine. Though it feels like the calm before the storm, I’m afraid.”

Harry nods with a hum just when the doors open and kids start to flow out of the building.

“When will you be kids-free next?” Harry asks in a hurry, his eyes snapping to her just for a moment before searching for Harlow in the sea of students.

“Um, maybe next weekend. But maybe we could have lunch sometime next week?” she suggests and he nods eagerly.

“Would love that.”

“Daddy!” He hears the most beautiful voice and moments later Harlow jumps into his arms.

“Hey princess, how was your day?” he chuckles, adjusting her in his hold.

“Great!”

“That’s good,” he hums, smiling. Glancing to the side Harry sees as Robin hugs Y/N and a few moments later Dylan marches out of the building, joining them. Y/N looks at him for one last moment, they exchange a quick smile and then part ways.

Lunch together doesn’t happen. Days go by and they can’t get the schedule to match, there’s always something happening, life gets in the way, but it doesn’t change the way Harry feels about Y/N. And because of that, he would wait forever to spend even just another minute with her.

They manage to have two more dates in the next month and they are both just as amazing as the first one was, because they got to spend more time together.

They have slowly become inseparable.

Their fourth date is set to happen on a Friday when they are kids-free again. Or so they thought.

They planned to watch a movie and then have a late dinner somewhere, so Harry arrived at her house a few minutes before six so they could catch the movie that starts at 6:45. He’s been looking forward to this evening all week, his heart jumping every time Y/N messaged him. He’s been like a lovesick puppy for a while now, even at work, he found himself taking songs into a more romantic direction than he usually does.

Walking up to the door he rings the bell and waits, trying his best to keep himself from smiling like crazy. But when the door opens and he sees the stressed out look on Y/N’s face, his expression drops right away.

“Oh shit, I totally forgot!” she breaks down seeing Harry, but her reaction is a little too extreme, he knows something happened that made her forget about their date. “Harry, I’m sorry, I don’t think tonight is gonna–”

“Hey, it’s alright, no need to apologize. Just tell me what happened, you seem so shaken up.”

Y/N holds the door for him as he walks in while she tries to collect her thoughts to tell him what happened.

“I uhh–I had the worst fucking day ever,” she breathes out shakily as they move to the living room to sit on the couch. “I have no idea how we ended up fighting with Dylan right before Will was about to arrive, but it was possibly our worst fight so far. Then Will joined in and of course, he completely ignored the fact that he is supposed to be a parent and not just a friend to Dylan.”

As she talks, Harry can’t stop thinking about how broken she seems and it’s killing him to see her like this. He needs everything in him not to just pull her into his arms and tell her he’ll solve everything for her.

“I swear I could see that vile smile hiding in his expression, like he was enjoying how Dylan was turning against me!” She growls in annoyance, sinking into the cushion.

“So then what happened? Did you guys come to an agreement of some sort?”

Y/N scoffs, her head falling back.

“The agreement that we came to is that He took the kids and Dylan will stay with him for a while. I had to pack my son’s stuff knowing that Will won’t take good care of him. I know him, he can’t be on parent mode all the time, he’ll want to have his alone time and go out with his friends, but now he’ll have Dylan with him all the time!”

“Why did you let him take Dylan?” Harry asks with furrowed eyebrows, trying to understand the reasons behind her actions.

“Because I’m fucking tired of being the bad guy and… I figured that Dylan is smart enough to realize that living with his dad is not fun!” she laughs, but there’s no happiness behind it at all. “Will never did the everyday things. He doesn’t like to cook, he definitely won’t wake up earlier to pack Dylan lunch, I’m pretty sure he’ll probably forget to pick him up at least once, if not more times a week. It’s not gonna work and I’m hoping that Dylan will find it out himself. He’s a smart boy, if he wants to take this ride, I’m all in,” she sighs, her eyes fluttering closed for a moment before she looks at Harry. “I’m so sorry I forgot about our date. I promise I’ve been waiting for it, but today was just–”

“Y/N, I already told you there’s no need to apologize,” he cuts in, not even wanting to have her think about it.

“I feel like I’m just dumping all my mess on you all the time.”

“I love that you feel comfortable enough around me to share this stuff,” Harry smiles softly.

“I feel more than just comfortable,” she admits, looking at him with calmness in the middle of the madness.

“Yeah?” he grins. “Why don’t we order some food, watch a movie here and call it a night? You must be exhausted.”

“That sounds… amazing,” she breathes out with a tired smile.

And that’s exactly what they do. They order pizza and cuddle on the couch while watching some Netflix movie. Every time they’re together they talk constantly, but this time, they just enjoy each other’s presence in silence and it’s exactly what they need. Halfway through the movie Harry notices that she’s fallen asleep, her head on his chest, snoozing away her stress.

Harry takes just a few minutes to himself, enjoying her closeness and being able to hold her in his arms like never before and he thinks about how he wants to experience this every day. He wants Y/N to get some well-deserved rest, so he carefully carries her to her bedroom and puts her to bed, planning to let himself out and probably call her in the morning, but right before he is about to walk out of her bedroom, her voice pulls him back.

“Stay with me? Please?”

Her voice is barely more than just a whisper and as he looks back at her, she’s blinking at him lazily, already scooting over in bed to make space for him.

“You sure?” Harry asks, though every bit of him just wants to stay close to her. She nods into the pillow and smiles softly as Harry steps back to the bed, hesitantly looking down at his clothes.

“You can take off your jeans if you want,” she cheekily smirks, making Harry laugh as he unbuttons his pants.

“You just wanted to get me out of my pants, didn’t you?” he teases her, kicking the jeans off and then making himself comfortable in bed next to Y/N, who instantly moves closer, cuddling to his side.

“Since the moment I saw you,” she retorts, making him laugh again.

“Should have just asked me right away.”

He presses a kiss on top of her head, wrapping his arms around her tight as they fall asleep together for the first time.

She sleeps better than she had in a long time. Usually she’s awake early in the morning no matter whether she has plans or not. But this time when she blinks her eyes open and checks the time on the alarmclock on her nightstand and it reads seven minutes past nine. She can’t even tell when the last time she slept after eight was.

Sitting up in bed she’s disappointed to realize that the bed next to her is empty, but then she hears pans and pots clinking somewhere downstairs and she can’t help but smile at the thought of Harry in her kitchen.

When she walks down she spots the man by the stove, he is making what seems like scrambled eggs, two mugs already sitting on the countertop with steaming, fresh coffee in them. Harry has put his jeans back on, though she wishes she could have seen him cook only in his underwear, but this is a nice view as well.

“Good morning,” she smiles and walking closer she checks in on the breakfast he’s making.

“Hi there, I hope I didn’t wake you up,” he chuckles and moving close she presses a sweet kiss to his lips to his surprise.

“No. I slept amazing, thank you for staying. I hope I didn’t make it feel weird.”

“Oh please. I was worried I might have crossed a line,” he chuckles softly as he moves the pan off the stove, turning to face Y/N fully, his hands finding her waist instantly.

“I’m afraid there are no lines when it comes to you, Harry.”

She says it with a cheeky smile, but they both can feel the seriousness behind her words and Harry is a tad bit surprised. He thought he would have to wait much longer for her to heal and move forward, but it seems like she’s ready to start this new chapter with Harry.

“Yeah?” he hums, inching closer with his face until he can brush his nose against hers.

“Mhm… I hope I won’t regret this,” she adds, a pang of fear flashing through her eyes.

“You won’t. I promise.”

He holds her gaze for a few more heartbeats before pressing his lips to hers, devouring her as if he is trying to prove that his promise will be a lasting one.

The eggs and coffee get forgotten quite fast as they get lost in each other. He presses her against the counter, his hands sneaking under her shirt, seeking direct contact with her skin. He can never get enough of her taste, the way her lips move with his and those pleased moans that slip out whenever he touches a soft spot. He’s completely obsessed with her and can’t even remember a time when he wasn’t thinking about her every waking moment.

“You’re not hungry?” he asks against her lips.

“Only for you,” she chuckles as she pulls him back towards the stairs to return to the bedroom.

They’ve been both craving intimacy for a while, but after their dates they just didn’t have the chance to take it past making out on the front porch. Now they have the house all to themselves and they are definitely using the precious time.

Between hungry kisses thes peel each other out of their clothes as they navigate back into the bedroom. She falls onto the mattress in only her underwear and Harry takes a moment to admire the view while ridding himself of his pants. Her nerves take over as he studies her almost fully naked form, she reaches for the covers, but he’s quick to stop her.

“Sorry, i-it’s just been a long time since…” she stutters as Harry climbs over her, holding himself up on his arms.

“How long?” he simply asks.

“Um… At least over a year… maybe two…,” she admits shamefully while his expression remains blank and she fears he finds it ridiculous that she hasn’t been with a man in so long.

“Your ex is the biggest idiot in the world,” he replies before his lips devour hers, his body pressing down on her, skin against skin, they are closer than ever, but they are just about to get even closer.

They roll around on the mattress, giggles turning into moans as the last remaining pieces of clothing disappear. They can’t get enough of each other, Harry’s practically trying to map out her whole body, kissing and touching every inch he can reach, worshiping her like no one before did.

When he kisses his way down on her chest and stomach, she realizes where he’s taking it, her breathing picks up at the thought of feeling his lips between her legs, especially because she can’t even remember the last time she was on the receiving end of oral sex.

“Relax,” he softly says before peppering the inside of her thigh, one hand sliding up her torso to her sternum. He can feel under his touch how wildly her heart is beating against her ribcage. “I’ll just have a quick taste, is that okay?” he asks, his eyes snapping up to meet hers.

“Yes,” she answers breathlessly.

“Good,” he smirks before moving closer to her cunt.

He truly only wants a taste, he doesn’t want to overwhelm her, knowing it’s her first time in a long time, but he just can’t help himself. The way her back arches and lips part when his mouth meets her clit, it gets him addicted fast and he knows he’ll spend long hours between her thighs once she gets more comfortable. But for now, he’s just trying to control his hunger.

Licking, kissing and sucking, he makes sure to show her he has endless ways of pleasuring her with his mouth, leaving her wanting more when he moves back up.

“Next time I’m not stopping until you come on my tongue at least twice,” he warns with a pleased grin, to which she can only nod as she gasps for air.

To his surprise, when his lips return to hers, she reaches down and wraps her hands around his cock he’s been ignoring all along just to focus on her pleasure. He can’t help but moan against her mouth when she starts gently pumping his length.

“And next time,” she speaks up, “I will suck your dick for as long as you want me to, but now… I really need you to fuck me.”

“Gladly,” he chuckles, but it quickly turns into a growl when she angles her hips so his head brushes against her soaked cunt. “Condom?”

“In the drawer,” she nods towards the nightstand and he reaches to the side, his movements slightly disoriented since she’s still playing with his cock with her hands.

She only stops when he rolls the condom on, her hands then moving to his mare ass, squeezing it shamelessly as he positions himself between her legs.

“Just tell me how you like it, slow, fast, hard, soft, I can do anything for you, Y/N,” he says, pressing kisses to the corner of her mouth.

“Start slow, then we can go faster.”

He nods and with a slow, careful motion he pushes into her, both of them moaning at the sensation. Harry almost loses his mind, feeling her warm, wet walls around him even through the condom. For a moment he fears he is about to come just by being inside her. Y/N is not the only one who hasn’t been sexually active lately, Harry’s needs mostly get satisfied by his hand under the shower on lonely nights, so this is a gamechanger for him as well.

“You’re good?” he asks out of breath.

“Never been better,” she smiles shortly, taking his face in her hands to pull him in for a kiss before Harry finally starts moving.

Just as she asked, he starts slow, gliding in and out of her until she gets familiar with the feeling and his size that’s quite bigger than what she’s been used to. Pulling her left leg up she hooks it around him, allowing him to go deeper with each thrust.

“Fuck, Y/N, you feel so good,” he growls against her neck before biting on her soft skin gently. She wraps her arms around his torso, clawing at his back to pull him as close as possible, she wants to feel his weight on her, his skin melting against hers as they become one.

“Faster, please!” she breathes out and that’s all Harry needs to pick his pace up, pleasing her every wish.

“Would love to fuck you from behind, but I need to see your pretty face when you come,” he breathes out a chuckle, pressing his lips on hers.

“Next time,” she grins back.

“We're saying that a lot.”

“Because we’ll have a lot of it,” she simply says before a moan slips through her lips.

His heart skips a beat, thinking of a future where he can spend his time with Y/N more than just a couple of times a week. He’s known it for a while, but now, as he’s closer to her than ever, he knows she is it for him.

Gradually fastening his movements he brings them both to the edge, she keeps calling out his name while he mumbles praises against her lips until she finally comes and he follows her moments later. His last few thrusts are rough and hard, but it tops it all perfectly. Harry rolls off of her, trying to catch his breath as she cuddles to his side, happily listening to the beating of his heart that’s slowing down after the excitement.

Legs tangled, she lifts her head, her fingers gently dancing over his tattooed chest, a lovesick smile stretching across her face.

“You’re alright?” he asks, squeezing her playfully.

“I haven’t felt this good in a long time,” she admits chuckling.

“Good,” he smiles. “Though I think breakfast is cold now.”

“We had way more important things to do,” she grins before placing a kiss to his chest.

A lot changes following that Friday. Some changes are hard, like accepting that Y/N can only see Dylan a handful of times and that he’s living with his father now. It’s hard on Y/N and Robin as well, not having him around like always, but there’s nothing to do.

Some changes, however, are very much amazing. Like the blossoming relationship between Y/N and Harry. Following their passionate morning things have taken a pleasant turn.

They are officially an item.

There are rules, of course, that help their journey, navigating life with a new partner with kids. It’s challenging, but they both know it will benefit everyone. Playdates have been regular and Harlow has been spending more time with her granny and Robin has been visiting Will and Dylan quite often as well. It’s also useful in the case of showing Will just how much work it is to take care of the kids almost full time, Y/N is convinced there will be a breaking point. In the meantime, she’s making the best out of her free time, spending it with her new lover.

The girls don’t know officially that their parents are dating. However, they are smart enough to notice that there’s something definitely going on. Harry always brings flowers to Y/N when they come over for a playdate, they’ve had dinner together a few times, Harry often picks them both up from school and then they meet at home and have dinner before Y/N and Robin head home.

They’ve found a rhythm that seems to be working for both of them.

“...Happy birthday dear Harlow! Happy birthday to you!” all the guests sing as the girl sits by her flower themed cake, candles lit on top.

Harry is recording with his phone with the proudest smile on his face, Frankie standing right next to him. Harlow’s birthday is the occasion where they celebrate together, no matter what. She might be switching between them all year, but they both agreed that her day shouldn’t be split into two. So usually Frankie joins them for this one time every year so they can celebrate as a family.

Today is not only special because of Harlow’s birthday, but also because Y/N and Frankie will meet for the first time. She dropped Robin off earlier, but she’ll return soon to have their official introduction, she just had to drop by her office to hand in some documents before joining the party.

She’s been anxious about the meeting all week, even though Harry told her there’s nothing to worry about. Meeting an ex could easily be a terrible experience and Y/N wants Frankie to like her and justify the time she spends with Harlow as Harry’s partner.

Harlow blows the candles out and smiles wide at everyone clapping for her. She’s invited her friends from school and from around the neighborhood and of course, there are a few parents attending as well.

After cake the kids get a headstart in all the activities Harry has planned for them, starting off with playing tag in the bouncy castle he has rented for the afternoon. Yeah, he might have gone a little overboard, but he just wanted the best for his little princess.

“So, when is she arriving?” Frankie asks Harry while she helps him clean up the dining table.

“Um, any minute.”

“I hope you’re not nervous about us meeting,” she chuckles.

“No,” he smiles. “But she is.”

“I can understand that.”

They work in silence for a bit before Frankie stops and looks at Harry.

“Are you happy?” she asks. Harry puts the plates down from his hands and looks at the woman he once thought he would spend the rest of his life with.

“I am. Yeah.”

“And you think it’s a lasting happiness?”

“I do,” he nods. “There’s… There’s something I feel in my chest that I can’t really explain, but I just know I found my person.”

Frankie smiles, genuinely, because this is all she ever wished for Harry.

“It’s good to hear that.”

Just as they are about to finish in the kitchen, the doorbell rings and Harry knows it’s Y/N.

“Please be nice to her,” he exhales before jogging over to the door. Opening he sees Y/N standing there, a nervous, but bright expression on her face.

“Hey,” he smiles and leaning in, he steals a kiss before she steps inside.

“I’m sorry it took me so long. I was trying to be fast. How is the party? Is Frankie here?” she asks as Harry closes the door behind her.

“Yeah, come on, let’s meet her.” Harry takes her hand, but she pulls back.

“Wait, is it… How should I act? What do I tell her?” she asks in a frenzy.

“Calm down, it’s going to be fine. Just be yourself, okay?”

“I’m about to meet your ex wife, don’t tell me–”

“Hello!” Frankie walks out with a warm smile and Y/N’s eyes go wide at first, but then she regains control over her face. “You must be Y/N, I’m Francesca, but call me Frankie.” She extends her hand towards Y/N which she takes.

“So nice to meet you, I’ve heard so much about you!”

“So have I,” Frankie chuckles.

“I hope only the good things,” she chuckles awkwardly, throwing a look at Harry, who is just watching the scene unfolding with an amused smirk on his face.

“Why don’t we have a drink and I’ll tell you everything he told me about you,” Frankie smirks.

“Yeah, sure!”

Harry lets them get to know each other, though he keeps an eye on them while tending to the birthday party as well. Just as he thought, Y/N had no reason to worry about meeting Frankie, five minutes into their chit-chat and they are already laughing like old friends.

The party is a huge success, the kids have fun and Harlow will surely remember her eighth birthday. When all the guests have left and Harlow said goodbye to her mom who headed out to the airport, it’s just Harry, Y/N and the two girls. Harlow and Robin are watching a movie in the living room while Y/N helps Harry to clean up most of the mess.

“So, meeting Frankie wasn’t that bad after all, huh?” Harry teases her while they’re loading the dishwasher.

“I never thought it would be bad, I was just nervous. She is obviously an important person in your and Harlow’s life, I wanted her to like me,” she clarifies.

“It’s impossible not to like you,” Harry smirks cheekily, making her laugh.

“Maybe. For you,” she adds sheepishly. “Anyway, she was nice and welcoming, it wasn’t awkward at all.”

“Why would it have been awkward?”

“I don’t know,” she shrugs. “That’s what it’s like in the movies.”

“But it’s real life,” he chuckles. putting the last plate onto the rack and closing the washer. “I told you, we are on great terms. She has a partner too, actually, I think they will get engaged soon.”

“Oh, that’s great. Do you like the guy?”

“Yeah,” he nods, starting the washer and then he leans against the counter, folding his arms over his chest. “Mateo is a nice guy, he’s a doctor too. Neurosurgeon. So I guess they are perfect for each other. He’s great with Harlow too and that’s what matters to me. I’m sure Frankie thinks the same about you.”

“I hope so.”

“I know it, Y/N. So don’t worry,” he smiles and peeking over her shoulder he checks if the girls can see them. When he’s sure they’re not in sight, he leans down and steals a short, but meaningful kiss. “Can I ask you something? And please tell me if it’s too fast, I want to do this right.”

“Okay,” she nods.

“When do you think we should tell the kids about us?”

“Well,” she exhales with a tiny smile. “I think they are already suspecting something.”

“How do you know?”

“Robin asked the other day if you and Harlow will spend Christmas with us since, and I quote, we already spend as much time together as a couple.”

“Oh wow, they really are smarter than we think,” Harry chuckles. “I guess we could come clean soon, what do you think?”

“Definitely. I want to be honest with Robin. We can sit down with them sometime. But I want Dylan to be there too. I don’t want him to find out about it from Robin.”

“Of course, sure.”

Before he turns to finish up in the kitchen she grabs his hand and pulls back for another, tad bit longer kiss that he accepts gladly, even with the risk of getting caught.

“Thank you,” she whispers when they pull apart.

“For what?”

“For… being so amazing. And giving me faith that I can still find happiness.”

Next weekend the girls are invited for their first ever sleepover to a classmate’s home, so Harry and Y/N can have a night to themselves finally. It’s been a hectic week, so they agreed to just stay in, watch a movie and relax together. This time it’s Y/N’s turn to host their romantic evening, so they are spending Saturday evening cuddled up on her couch, ready to rewind.

They are halfway into their choice of movie when Y/N’s phone starts ringing. Normally, she would ignore it, but when she sees that Dylan is calling her, she snatches the phone from the table and answers the call.

“Hey hun, everything alright?” she asks, knowing well Dylan only has a phone for emergencies and he wouldn’t call if it wasn’t important.

Harry can’t hear the boy on the other end, but he can tell whatever Dylan is saying it’s putting Y/N on alerted mom mode instantly.

“I’ll pick you up right now, don’t worry,” she says, already jumping up from the couch. “Just stay right there, I’m on my way, honey.”

“What happened?” Harry asks, rushing after Y/N as she hurriedly starts putting on shoes and a jumper, still staying in line with Dylan. She covers the mic of her phone as she answers quickly.

“Will left him home alone, he went to the store to get himself food, but he locked himself out and Will is not answering his phone.”

She’s mad. Big time. It’s the type of anger that turns any mother into mama bear mode.

“I’m going with you, you can’t drive like this,” he says, not asks.

“Thank you,” she breathes out before turning her attention back to the phone. “I’ll be right there, Dylan, okay? Stay on the phone with me.”

She talks to him on the phone while Harry is driving according to her instructions and he’s trying his best to keep his cool and stay in his line. He knows this is a family matter, but he’s fighting the urge to punch Will if he ever sees him.

“There, pull over,” Y/N points at a house and Harry spots Dylan sitting on the stairs at the front door, obviously shaken up.

Y/N practically jumps out of the car before it even stops, running towards the boy who does the same and lets his mom wrap him in her arms tight and safely, it’s exactly where he belongs. Harry gets out as well, approaching carefully, making sure he keeps distance and gives them space.

“Come on, I got the spare keys, let’s pack your stuff. You’re coming home.”

For probably the first time in a long time, he doesn’t argue, just nods and follows his mom to the door that she locks with her set of keys Will gave him for emergencies. This surely qualifies as one. Glancing back she nods at Harry to follow and he oblies, staying in the foyer as the two of them disappear further in the house.

The place looks like a typical bachelor home, not too much furniture, no home décor, but a giant TV in the living room with several game consoles. It’s obviously not a place where kids should be around, there’s nothing homey, warm and cozy and Harry can only guess, but something is telling him Dylan’s room looks similar to the rest of the house.

He can faintly hear them talking, maybe even Dylan crying as Y/N softly soothes him while they’re probably packing his things. Harry stays by the door, but when he sees a pair of headlights pulling up on the driveway, he stiffens.

“Y/N? I think someone’s home!” he calls out, watching a guy get out of the car. From what Harry can see through the window, he looks confused at first and then pissed when he reaches the front door and walks in, facing Harry in his house.

“Who the fuck are you?” he spits, his hands curling into fists. Before he could answer, Y/N rushes out of Dylan’s room.

“Are you out of your fucking mind? Where the hell were you?” she raises her voice in an instant, holding Will accountable for his actions.

“What are you doing here and who the hell is this clown?” Will ignores her questions, gesturing towards Harry.

“You left your son home alone for almost a whole day with no food!”

“I left a few dollars on the dining table,” he shrugs, like it’s truly no big deal.

“Yeah! And he went to the store to get something when you’ve been away for fucking hours and locked himself out! You didn’t answer his calls! He called me crying, because he couldn’t reach you, do you think that’s how a father should act? Huh?”

“I had shit to do! I couldn’t bring him with me, what’s the big deal about it? He’s fine!” Will retorts pointing at a frightened looking Dylan down the hallway.

“No, he is not fine! And don’t fucking believe I’m leaving him here with you. He told me all about the shit you’ve been doing. I’m gonna make legal actions to limit your time with him and Robin as well. You screwed it up, Will. Big time.”

The switch in him can be seen, where he turns into full defensive mode, ready to tear anything and anyone down to have his ways, no matter the consequences.

“Oh yeah? You think you can just do whatever you want, Y/N?”

“No, it’s you who thinks that’s how it works!”

“You will not keep my kids away from me!” he starts shouting. “Do you hear me? You can’t do that!”

“Actually, I can and I will! I’m done with your shit and so are the kids, believe me.”

Despite the weight of the situation, Harry feels his chest swell with pride seeing Y/N stand her ground, not letting Will throw everything on her.

“Come on, Dylan, we’re leaving, bring your bag,” she calls out to the boy who runs into his room to grab his stuff, appearing a moment later.

“No, you are not walking out of here with him!” Will snaps, grabbing Y/N’s arm and that’s when Harry steps in.

Taking Will by the shoulder, Harry pulls him back, the action takes him by surprise and makes him let go of her, but it just pumps up his anger.

“Get your hands off me!” Will spits, puffing his chest to try to intimidate Harry, but there’s no use.

“Right after you get your hands off of her,” he retorts, calm and collected, but his eyes are throwing flames.

“You have the nerve to come to my house and tell me what to do with my wife?!”

“I’m not your wife anymore, and this madness is ending here,” Y/N tells him harshly. She holds out a hand and Dylan runs up to her, taking her hand, clinging onto it desperately as he tries to avoid looking at his father.

“Dylan, you really want to go with your mother? Think of all the fun we’ve had!” Now Will sounds more desperate as he follows Y/N and Dylan towards the door, but Harry gets between him and them before Will could get physical again.

He tries to stop them on their way out, following them to the car too, his emotions switching by the minute: anger, despair, sadness, disgust, he goes through everything, but nothing can stop Y/N now.

“You really think you can just take my kids away from me like that? Huh?” Will starts shouting when Dylan is in the car and they are just about to leave. Y/N turns back to end the discussion in a calm manner.

“I know that the court will love to hear about all the shit you’ve done. Try fighting me and I will make sure you’ll never see your kids again.”

Will is stunned from the strength and power oozing from Y/N and it leaves him frozen in his spot as she gets in the car and drives away with Dylan and Harry.

Arriving back home Harry stays back and lets Y/N focus on Dylan. They have a talk in his room while Harry cleans up the mess they left before rushing out of the house. When an hour later Y/N comes down he can tell she’s tired and drained.

“Thank you for cleaning up,” she smiles as she walks over and he pulls her into his embrace right away. She melts into his arms gladly, dropping the tough act and letting him be her safe haven after everything that happened.

“How’s Dylan?”

“Confused and disappointed. I wish he never had to see Will like that. He used to be his hero, this was a turning point.”

“He’s a great kid, he’ll get over it and he has you.” He kisses the crown of her head before pulling back so give her an encouraging smile that she returns. “I’m gonna head out, let you get some rest.”

“Okay,” she nods and leaning closer, she kisses his lips gently. “Thank you for… everything.”

“I’m happy to be here for you. Anytime.”

“I know,” she smiles softly. “That’s why… that’s why I love you.”

Her words take him by surprise, but then his heart starts hammering in his chest as he stares back at her.

“I love you too,” he breathes out before their lips meet again.

It's a staring match and Harry and Y/N are definitely losing.

Sitting next to each other, the couple is now facing the three most important people in their life. Harlow, Robin and Dylan are sitting in silence, waiting for the announcement that brought them together this Saturday afternoon.

Y/N bumps her elbow against Harry’s side, urging him to break the silence. He clears his throat and finally starts talking.

“So, we wanted to tell you guys something. We believe all three of you are mature enough to take the news and we hope you’ll be happy about it.”

Harlow and Robin exchange a knowing look, but they let him carry on.

“You might have noticed that we’ve been spending a lot of time together. It’s because we’ve become great friends and… and slowly we became… You know, when adults get closer they can easily fall… Um…”

He is not doing good, rambling, all over the place, feeling more nervous than ever as the three kids stare back at him expectantly. At last, Y/N takes the lead.

“We’re together. As a couple,” she says, ending Harry’s misery to find the right words.

They remain silent for a few moments that feel excruciating to Harry and then the girls start giggling.

“What’s so funny?” Harry questions them.

“We were just wondering how long it would take for you to admit it,” Harlow sassily replies.

“We’ve known it for a while,” Robin chimes in.

“You might have suspected it, but I don’t think you’ve known,” Y/N narrows her eyes at them.

“We saw you kissing the other week,” Dylan speaks up, surprising Y/N and Harry. They’ve been trying to be very careful, but it seems like they did not succeed.

“Um, well… So then now you know for sure,” Harry chuckles. “How do you feel about it?”

“Does this mean we’re sisters now?” Harlow asks, her face lighting up.

“Not really. Not yet, at least,” Y/N chuckles.

“Oh, okay.”

“Are we gonna move in together?” Dylan asks and Y/N can tell he is not ready for that.

“No. We’re not planning to do that anytime soon, don’t worry. But we want to spend more time together, with you guys as well. So Harry might spend the night at ours sometimes or when you two are with dad, I might be sleeping over at his place,” she explains.

“Okay,” Dylan nods in relief.

The kids have a few more questions that they gladly answer and it seems like they are taking it well. When the talk is over, the kids take over the trampoline in the backyard, giving Harry and Y/N a moment of privacy.

“That went well,” he smirks proudly.

“Oh, you mean you did so great rambling in the beginning?” she teases him. “I agree.”

“Haha, very funny,” he rolls his eyes, but can’t hold his smirk back.

“It went well, you’re right,” she says. “But I’m not surprised.”

“What do you mean?”

“Everything about you is perfect,” she smiles up at him, knowing well how much he loves getting praised.

“Mm, guess we can thank the girls. That bake sale truly brought us together,” he chuckles.

“That was the ultimate parent trap and they didn’t even know it,” she laughs, wrapping her arms around his waist before kissing him.

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!

#harry #styles #harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles oneshot #harry styles one shot #harry styles fluff #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #harry styles blurb #harry styles smut

3K notes · View notes