#She was far away from everything and everyone that could remind her of what happened
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Heartbroken reminder that Egwene is 17 when she gets taken by the Seanchan, spends two months in captivity being tortured, used as a weapon and dehumanized. When she gets back to the Tower, she immediately passes a test that's not at all traumatic, nearly gets killed by a Grey Man and is sent on a secret mission to hunt murderers completely unsupervised. During this period of wandering, lacking direction, she naturally gets angrier and erratic, but Nyn and Elayne mostly treat it as childish rebellion against Nyn's authority, with Elayne slapping Egwene because she was mean to Nyn. When the girls eventually get captured because they are not equipped at all to hunt the Black Ajah, Egwene becomes so terrified of being taken again that she keeps on resisting the sisters long past it is sensible, earning a brutal beating from the sisters who throw her back into a cell, beaten to a pulp, with no hope for help this time.
Clearly, Egwene has no PTSD whatsoever.
#egwene al'vere#The wheel of time#Wot book spoilers#The Great Hunt#The Dragon Reborn#Remblai#wot book journey#I think about it all the time#About how early in the books she gets to experience something so horribly traumatic and to receive little support afterwards#None from the Tower#None from her mentors#And little from her friends because they have their own stuff going#And even if the books don't give as much room to Egwene's trauma as Rand's it's always here#Her prime reaction to someone trying to subdue her will be extremely violent#She would rather die than let that happen again#It's beyond me how she managed to rebuild herself after this and mostly on her own#The Wise Ones helped tremendously here#Because she had a strict routine#She was far away from everything and everyone that could remind her of what happened#Being a Dreamwalker has also little to do with the OP so it allowed her to regain control without interacting with the OP#I love her arc from very early on tbh#It's not about Egwene being unbreakable#It's about Egwene living with a pain that could destroy her#That's something she shares with Rand as well
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the monsters gone
part 3 of beautiful girl series -> part 1 -> part 2
leah williamson x reader, jordan nobbs x reader (wobbs as moms)
warnings: drug addiction, drug abuse, talks of illicit substances, depression, intrusive thoughts, would not advise for people in a bad mental headspace
You wanted her to leave, or you were desperate for a fix and well aware that it wasn’t going to happen until she was gone and you could retreat up to your room like normal.
You scratched at the incision on your forearm, it was hidden underneath your hoodie but you could feel it all the same, it made you feel guilty.
You’d never felt guilty for taking drugs, why would you? It was your choice, your body, your brain that you were fucking with. Yet for some reason, the little mark that you knew was sitting right on top of your vein was making you feel guilty. You didn’t want to admit it, but it felt oddly like the start of something, you weren’t sure what though, whatever it was though, it didn’t feel good.
When the door clicked open around 2 o’clock you felt far more at peace, watching your mom hobble through the door with Lia following her. Jordan stood up almost immediately and if the room hadn’t already been awkward then the awkwardness found a whole new definition as the two women looked at each other.
“Hey Jord, thanks for hanging around, you’re looking good.”
Your mom looked relieved to see Jordan, your ma on the other side looked slightly terrified as she eyed up the two women.
“It wasn’t an issue, you know I love spending time with my chick.”
Leah smiled, looking down at you on the couch, you buried your head in your phone, ignoring her gaze.
“Whether she admits it or not she likes seeing you as well.”
Your ma laughed awkwardly, it took everything in you to not burst out laughing at all of the tension between the two of them.
“Look I’ll be heading off, gotta me back in Birmingham for game review tonight but can we talk for a minute though Le?”
Your mom’s head cocked to the side, a look of curiosity evident on her face.
“Yeah sure, come with me.”
Lia watches them with the same look of curiosity as you, your eyes meeting as the trail back from the doorway to Leah’s office that they both step into.
“They’re talking about me.”
Lia doesn’t bother trying to ignore you or deny what you’re saying, she nodes her head.
“Probably, that’s what most parents do.”
It’s a absentminded answer, and for a second your aware that maybe Lia is in on whatever is happening, that she knows exactly what is going on behind the door. If anything important came from the phone call earlier you know Lia would be the first to know, she was like the third parent you never asked for nor wanted, but somehow ended up with.
“Ma thinks that Mom’s parenting is shit.”
Lia cocks her head, she’s harder to read then your moms, more calculated, more clean, less obviously emotional.
“She just disagrees with some of the things that your mother does, so do I. Nobody else is in her shoes though, she makes the decisions that are necessary and best for you.”
Lia sounds convinced of her words, even though you doubt them.
“Ma doesn’t think so.”
Lia bit down on her bottom lip, finishing with tucking her kit bag away so she could focus her attention on you.
“She worries about you.”
You did your best to suppress the eye roll, it didn’t work.
“She worries that mom is too nice and isn’t strict enough.”
Sometimes you thought that your mom compensated for the void between the two of you by letting you do whatever you wanted, other times you were reminded by your grandma that she’d told Leah she needed to go easy on you and that not everyone could be as perfect as Leah Williamson.
“Your mom knows what you need better than anybody else.”
The conversation paused, the two of you flinching at the sound of yelling from the other side of the door, you couldn’t make out what was being said, both of them were yelling though.
“Set the table for lunch for me, kiddo?”
You couldn’t pull your eyes from the door, you hadn’t hear your moms yell in a long time, it took you back to when they were breaking up, when they tried to act like they weren’t, when they saved the fighting and yelling for when you’d been tucked into bed and they’d thought you were asleep.
“Kiddo, table.”
You stood up from the couch, your eyes staying stuck to the door, even as you pulled cutlery from the drawer and laid it out with the placemats on the table. Eventually, the yelling ceased, and the room was over come with a silence like no other, only being broken by the door opening and your two moms walking out, both of them looking far more content considering that it had sounded like they were screaming at each other, not thirty seconds ago.
“Bubba, Jord is going to head off, if you want to say bye.”
Jordan’s arms opened up to you and as mad and confused as you were, you weren’t going to deny her. You walked around the table, leaning into her hug, wrapping your arms around her the same way she did for you, letting her hold on for a little bit longer.
“I’ll be back when I can chicky, I love you so much.”
You wanted to tell her she was lying, that they were all lying, they didn’t fucking love you, it was so fucking obvious. But for the sake of keeping the peace you didn’t.
“I love you too Ma.”
Jordan let go of you, pressing a kiss to your forehead. The same way she had when they’d adopted you when you were eight, the same way she had after your first game when you were 12, the same way she had when you were 14 and you’d been top of your form and given an award, the same way she had when she’d left for good when you were 16. It was the same kiss, yet everything about it was different, the meaning, the purpose, the intention, it was all different.
You watched as she walked out the door, the same as every time, you listened to the sound of her car starting and the sound of gravel underneath her tires as she pulled out and onto the road.
Once you were sure she was gone you turned around, sliding into a seat at the table, across from your mother, staring at her.
“What were you guys talking about?”
Leah looked at you, poker face as good as ever.
“Football, some other stuff.”
It was a obvious lie, both you and Lia knew it.
“You were talking about me, what about me?”
Leah rolled her eyes at you.
“It was a conversation between your Ma and I, not for your ears.”
You didn’t bat an eye as Lia set lunch down in front of you, to fixated on your mother.
“You don’t yell over nothing, what were you talking about.”
Leah pushed her tongue out against her lips.
“Your ma had some concerns about you, that’s it, I told her she had nothing to worry about and that we were doing just fine.”
You knew that even if you didn’t want to admit it, Jordan probably had some valid points, your mom seemed unphased though.
“That’s it?”
Leah looked at you, and you could tell that she was holding something back.
“She told me that you’d told her you smoked weed last night and that you were vomiting this morning.”
You tried to keep your face from changing, keeping the confident exterior even if you were slightly scared on the inside.
“I got drunk, I had some fun, it was no biggy.”
Leah’s eyebrow rose in the trademark question.
“It’s a biggy to me because you told all you were doing was vaping and a little bit of drinking, you said you’d be honest with me and it’s clear you haven’t been.”
You hesitated for a second, the air thickening around you as suddenly the tension was between you and your mother.
“I was just having some fun mom, I didn’t do anything stupid, I was safe, just like you asked.”
Leah’s face shrivelled up as you used her words against her.
“You were out with friends I’ve never met, at a house on the opposite side of town that I’ve never been too, Jord said you looked like you’d been on a three day bender and I told her that I didn’t believe her but now you’re here admitting it.”
You reached into your pocket for your vape, desperate for something to take the edge of the conversation off, to make you feel calmer.
You pulled it out and Leah’s face immediately pointed inwards.
“How many times do I have to say no vape at the table?”
You frowned, shoving it back in your pocket.
“It was just a bit of weed mom, it’s what kids my age do.”
Leah shook her head.
“It wasn’t just a bit of weed, I’ve been smelling it on your clothes for weeks and trying to tell myself I was being delusional because you’d told me you were just on the vape, that you had no interest in drugs and yet you were lying to me, you have been for a while bubba and I don’t know how to feel about it to be honest. I thought we were closer than most parents and kids, I thought we had boundaries and that I was giving you enough space, and now I don’t know what to think.”
You pursed your lips, struggling to find words.
“And if you’re lying to me about weed then what else is there? What else is there you aren’t telling me because there has to be more. I let you drop football, I relaxed on the school because I know you were struggling but this doesn’t work if you aren’t honest with me.”
You really didn’t know what to say, your mind was in a million different places, the container underneath your bed, the joints on your windowsill hidden behind the curtains, the three vapes in your bedside table, the drug dealer numbers in your phone, what had happened last night, the meth track mark on your arm.
“Nothing, it was just some weed, I just wanted something to take the edge off, it was no big deal.”
Leah’s eyes closed for a second and you knew this was all about to get a lot harder.
“Except it was a big deal because you’ve been doing it behind my backs for weeks, I’ve tried to be understanding bubba, I have, I know it’s been tough for you with me and Jords breakup, you’ve had a really hard year, I let the vaping slide, I let your attendance drop at school, but drugs bub, it’s no joke.”
You took a deep breath.
“It’s just some weed, I don’t know what you want me to tell you.”
Leah wants to say that if you’re this relaxed about being caught doing weed then she doesn’t want to know what else you’re hiding from her that would make you less relaxed, but she keeps it to herself, or for this moment at least.
“I want you to bring me whatever you have of it, I won’t have you smoking illicit and illegal substances underneath my roof.”
You figured there were worse things that could happen, she could find your stash, she could take your vape, she could ground you or make you go to school.
“Okay.”
Your mom nodded, happy she had at least won a small battle.
“After lunch.”
You nod again in agreeance, looking down at the caesar salad in front of you and stabbing your fork down onto it, picking up the different pieces of lettuce and chicken scattered throughout.
You make it through half the meal before you grab your bowl and pick it up, walking into the kitchen to do you washing up, your mom follows behind you, her bowl empty.
You take the dish from her, cleaning it out and stacking both of them in the dishwasher, knowing whats to come now.
You slow yourself down on the stairs giving her the time to follow behind you as she dragged her bad leg up every individual stair.
Leah had been putting in hours everyday for her rehab, it was her main focus, over everything else.
Eventually the two of you made it to the top of the stairs, and eventually to your bedroom door.
You hesitated before opening it, you couldn’t remember the last time Leah had been inside it, way before her acl, ever since she’d gotten injured she’d been avoiding the staircase.
You opened the door, hand pausing on the cold metal doorknob for a split second before pushing it open.
Your room was still freezing, you didn’t miss how your mother shivered from the breeze that hit her face immediately, coming straight from the open window.
“Jesus kiddo, you trying to replicate antarctica in here? You know I pay good money for heating, right?”
It’s a lighthearted joke, yet somehow it hurts for you, you don’t know how or why, you just know that it does.
“I like it cold.”
Leah looks at you, both brows furrowed inwards.
“Alright then polar bear.”
You try not to flinch away when her hand reaches up to ruffle your hair, it’s something she’s done to you since you were a kid, it feels wrong now though.
“Let’s just get this over and done with.”
You walk over to your windowsill, reaching behind the curtain and reaching for the bag of joints that you have stashed behind the material. Leah frowns as you walk back over to her, shoving the bag into her hands before she can even ask.
“This is all of them?”
She looks completely unconvinced, you probably would be too, most kids don’t give up their drugs willingly.
“Yes.”
Leah looks at you, eye to eye, like she’s trying to reach into your soul, or read your mind.
“Bubba, this is your chance, I’m giving you an opportunity to be straight with me, and whatever you tell me or give me I won’t be mad about. I might want to sit down and question your decisions, but I won’t be mad. Teenagers are stupid, they make mistakes, they try new things, I get it. Be honest with me bubba, please.”
You didn’t really know what Leah was insinuating, but it was clear that she knew there was a bigger picture here.
“That’s it mom.”
You had to tear your eyes away from her, you couldn’t handle the way that she was looking at you, the mix of disappointment, resentment and worry mixed into her blue irises.
“Bubba, don’t make me search your room, don’t make me have to ground you, don’t make me have to call Jord and get her to turn the car around to help me out.”
You brought your eyes back to Leah’s.
“That’s it mom, I don’t know what you want me to tell you, I don’t even know what you’re talking about.”
You were lying through your teeth and the fact you couldn’t look eye to eye with Leah would have been enough of a warning sign of that.
“Drugs bubba, that’s what I’m talking about, you’re lying straight to my fucking face right now, I don’t know what about or why but you are.”
You didn’t know what to say, you weren’t going to admit it, you couldn’t, but you needed to say something.
Fuck, you were so fucked.
You tried to spin it in your head, tried to think about how you could make this work out. You were caught, you were done, this was bad.
Your eyes darted to below your bed, rookie fucking mistake.
Leah caught your line of sight, and you knew as soon as she did that it was all about to go to fucking shit, that you were done for.
“Lia.”
Your mom’s voice was urgent, a yell that had the swiss woman bounding up the stairs in a matter of seconds.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
You were so fucking fucked.
You were frozen in your spot, your mom’s eyes looking at you like she’d just been stabbed in the heart.
“Bubba, you can get whatever you are hiding from me or I will get Lia to tear this whole room a part, I’m not fucking around.”
You felt torn down the middle, your brain couldn’t think, you felt the same sickness sink in from this morning, instead of it being withdrawals from drugs though it was the realisation that your whole life was about to be turned upside down.
You tried to think, tried to think about how you could spin this, make it a little bit better than it really was.
Lia looked more uncomfortable then possible, you wished a blackhole would randomly pop up and swallow all three of you.
Something hit you, it wasn’t a full resolution but it was better than what you currently had going for you.
You walked over to your bed, with unsteadier legs then last night when you were so drunk the world was spinning, crouching down when you got to the edge, feeling for the familiar container that held all of your deepest darkest secrets, or at least that’s how it felt.
It took you back to a time when you’d made Leah check under your bed everynight for the monsters under your bed, now though she was looking for the monsters in your head, the monsters that had turned her little perfect girl into whatever you were now.
Your hand eventually met the hard plastic, you pulled it out, biting down on the inside of your cheek as you stood up and sat down on the edge of your bed.
Leah took a couple steps closer to you, standing directly in front of you.
“Look, it’s not mine, I only did it twice, my friends bought it over, I swear.”
Half of it was true.
“Open the box, bubba.”
You felt your throat tighten, you felt like you were going to vomit, or pass out, or have a heart attack.
“Mom, I didn’t want to, I don’t even like it, I just did it because my friends were, I swear.”
It was also another half truth.
“Bubba, open the box.”
You bit down even harder on the inside of your cheek, reaching for the edge of the plastic box and opening it, revealing the two baggies of white powder inside of it.
Leah’s face fell, in a way that you’d never seen, you’d seen her disappointed before, this wasn’t it, it was something else entirely and you weren’t sure what.
“Bubba.”
Your mom was a overly emotional person, you couldn’t handle her crying right now though, you couldn’t do it, you couldn’t deal with her pretending she gave a shit when this was the first time in months that it felt like she cared, and it was all because of Jordan, not on her own volition.
“I swear mom, I swear, it’s not mine, I promise.”
It wasn’t a lie, it hadn’t started out as yours, you’re friends had left it behind after a weekend hangout and had never asked for it back, so it technically wasn’t yours, technically.
“Bubba, what is it?”
Leah reached for the box, picking up the two bags, the bags that you felt like held your whole life together.
“Cocaine, it’s just a little bit of coke, my friends were using it before parties, I didn’t like it, it made me feel dizzy and it hurt my head.”
The cocaine bit was a lie, but the fact you didn’t like cocaine wasn’t, it was the kind of stimulant which put you into over drive, the high lasted no where near as long and it made you feel like you weren’t making sense.
You were hoping she would believe the cocaine, inevitably, cocaine was a pissy drug. Leah would have been at thousands of parties were cocaine was handed around, hell, you were fairly certain your mother had taken plenty of it. Cocaine was less addictive, good cocaine was also stupidly expensive, the value of it was fucked. Meth was cheap but a thousand times more addictive, cocaine was a better like.
“Lia, get rid of it.”
Your mom handed the bag of joints over to Lia, as well as the bags of drugs, shoving them into her hands like they were burning her hands.
“I don’t even know what to say to you bubba.”
Your mom looked genuinely at a loss for words, her eyes kept darting between your eyes and your hands, which were shaking in front of you.
“Mom, I promise, it was only a one time thing, really, I was just keeping it for my friends.”
As soon as the tears started spilling down Leah’s face you knew it was about to get bad.
She walked over to your desk, pulling the chair out from it and dragged it across the room until it was directly in front of you, your mother taking a seat.
Her hands came out to rest on your knees, they were shaking like yours, not as badly but still shaking, though for different reasons you assumed.
“You told me the weed was a one time thing, that was a lie. I don’t know what to believe anymore, you’ve put me in a impossible situation, bubba. On one hand, I want to believe you. I want to believe the kid I raised, on the other hand you haven’t given me reason to. You broke my trust, you lied to me, you broke the house rules. I don’t ask a lot of you, I let you get away with more than your ma would let you, and I was fine with it because you were showing me you were a good kid, but now I honestly don’t know what to think. You told me it was just the vapes, I thought you were using a little bit to much nicotine and now it turns out that you’re smoking pot and doing drugs. You’ve been hiding and lying and I just don’t get why. Why bubba? Tell me why.”
Big tears were dripping from your mothers eyes, big, wet, fat tears pooling in her icey blue eyes.
“I don’t know, okay? I’m sorry mom, I’m really sorry. I’m sorry. I love you, I didn’t mean it, it was just some fun, it was a one time thing, I promise.”
Leah pursed her lips, the same way you were, the sleeve of her shirt was pressed to her face, picking up the tears that were dripping down her jaw.
“I’m going to go and call your ma, this is a discussion we need to be having together, I need her here for this.”
Little did they know how bad it really was.
Leah stood up, you thought she would just leave, heading back down to make a call to your ma that would inevitably change your life, instead, she sat down next to you, her arms opening up.
You leaned into her side, letting her wrap both of her arms around you.
“I’m sorry mom, I’m sorry.”
It was the only thing you could think of saying, the only thing that sounded right coming off the tip of your tongue.
“I love you so much my beautiful girl, we’ll figure this out, your ma and I, we’re all going to figure this out.”
Leah held onto you for a little bit longer, her arms tightening onto you like you were holding her down to earth, like she would float away if she didn’t.
Eventually she let go, her face was puffy and red, her sleeves were red and she sounded all sniffly.
“I’m going to go and phone Jord, we’re going to sort it all out, we’ll figure this out, okay? We’re both here for you, we both love you so much, you’re our little girl.”
You found it weird how easy it slipped off of her tongue, you wondered if she actually believed that she meant it, you wondered if when your mother said it that she meant it without really meaning it. There were words but there were no actions to support those words, just empty syllables and letters all formed together in a intricate lie.
You watched as Leah limped her way out of your room, her bad leg trailing behind her good one, rule number one of parenting a child you now know is drug addicted, never leave them alone in a room they can escape from when you’ve just confronted them.
#woso#woso community#sammykworshipper thoughts#leah williamson#arsenal wfc#leah williamson x reader#jordan nobbs x reader#jordan and leah#jordan nobbs#wobbs breakup#its painful#trauma dumping#tears were shed#woso imagine#woso angst#sammykworshipperfics#pain sweet pain#fluff is coming#maybe
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Small World Pt 2
Summary - After discovering you and Azriel share much more than a mating bond, your relationship grows stronger as tensions between you and your aunt seem to grow higher.
Warnings - implied emotional and mental abuse, second child syndrome in a not good way, we find out Nyx is an asshole, unrequited love, slight smut, use of daddy
A/n - a potentially cliff hanger ending because I haven't decided 100% how this ends
Peep Part 1 Here 💙
Azriel stared at the dress box sitting on Rhysand's desk and nicely folded Illyrian leathers. He couldn't remember the last time he had worn them. The last time he had used a siphon. The leathers were fitted for 7, something Azriel immediately knew would no longer work.
His powers after removing the precious stones had gone wild. His shadows were different now. They were more aware, able to span wider distances, and able to recruit more shadows into his network to join them.
He had spent 5 years alone meditating and learning even more control over them, over what they could do, over how deadly they actually could be.
7 siphons would not be enough.
And he didn't understand how Rhysand did not see that.
He finally spoke, gesturing to the box. "What is this?"
Rhys was settled in his chair, trying to maintain his composure as Cassian stood near the bookshelf to mediate if needed. "We're going to the Court of Nightmares. My daughter's engagement has spread like wildfire, and dear Keir wants to host a party in her honor."
A breathy chuckle left Azriel's lips before he could stop it. "So my fiancée will be dressed like a goddess while I am in leathers at a party to mock us?"
Cassian shifted slightly. "We've always worn leathers to Hewn City, Az. It's to honor our heritage." Rhys just inclined his head to Cassian and nodded. "Y/n wears leathers."
"She has never worn a single set in the 2 years we've been together. There isn't even a set in her closet."
"There's several sets in her closet here," Rhys said quietly. "All set up for pink siphons. 14 of them." Cassian and Azriel couldn't help their chuckles. "Imagine a blonde Illyrian with pink siphons, Azriel, its quite the sight." Rhys smiled fondly, eyes glimmering with pride despite everything. "She's-" he looked up, searching for the perfect word for his daughter. "She's my everything. And I've done a horrible job showing her that."
Azriel sucked in a deep breath. "I won't mediate this, Rhys. This is a you two thing. Not an us three thing."
Azriel knew now why you were estranged from your family. Nyx was their golden child. Constantly praised, admired, in the spotlight. He was, and still is, their reminder of how they had almost died to pass along their love. He could do no wrong, never be wrong, and was treated as such.
You, on the other hand, were the second child. The significantly younger one Nyx learned to plant blame on and watch as you were scolded and seen as "the problem" as you had told him you were now addressed as in Hewn City and Illyria. You had been raised by Ness more than Feyre and Rhys, passed off to them until your powers bloomed at 16, and suddenly your father found you interesting again. With a lack of a spymaster, he exploited you, forcing you to touch people and feel their emotions, when they lied, their stories. Forcing you to live trauma over and over of females clipped in the mountains, of tortured traitors in dungeons, of Nesta's dark phase.
You locked your powers so far away one day, so deep inside you that even you hardly could access them unless you actually wanted to. It had been just before your 18th birthday that happened. And then the fight that sealed the casket happened. Rhys had verbally lashed you. Attacked you for refusing to let him use your "one worth" to keeping his family and court safe.
Your father had said he saw you as useless, and everyone else just stood by watching.
Like they had with Nesta.
Only you were just a child. Not a head strong warrior, a goddess in fae form.
You packed the basics and spent the night on the streets in a dark alley.
Even if you and Rhys magically fixed things, even if you forgave but not forgot, Azriel would never. How you were raised, how you've been treated, it forever will taint his vision of Rhys, Feyre, and Nyx. The abuse they unleashed on you, they'd never make up for.
Rhys nodded, eyes glancing to the doorway as footsteps approached. "I would never ask you to fix my relationship with her when I need to fix my relationship with you as well. I just need you to know I love her. That she will always be my girl."
"You have an odd way of showing her your lo-"
The door opened, and you stepped in, immediately going to Azriel's side and eyeing the box. "Dad. Cassian." You opened the lid and nodded. "Well. At least it's sparkly."
Rhys cocked his head. "You don't like it?"
Azriel watched as you paused. The bond flared with conflicting emotions. Anger, hurt, longing. How long had it been since Rhys held you? Since he told you he loved you without you having to earn it. "No, I like it. I just know what this means. You never give me nice things unless Hewn City is involved." The last sentence trailed off quietly, and pain flooded the bond.
Rhys looked down, nodding as he scratched the stubble growing on his face. "I am sorry. I just-"
"Please don't. You never mean it." You grabbed the box. "I will wear it and find jewelry." You turned to Azriel. "Elain would like to speak with you. She said something about a garden you two planned together and how I'll never understand the love you two share. How it breaks bonds and shakes worlds."
The relationship between you and Azriel had been messy since dinner two weeks ago. You two had your first fight over, of course, Elain and her rekindled love, lust, whichever felt appropriate at the moment for Azriel. He ignored the constant letters, the random headache powders, the message coded flowers.
He had reached out to Lucien, asking the male what had happened. According to the new Lord of Day, Elain and he had tried for 5 years, but the damage had been done. Lucien didn't trust Elain, Elain spent most of their time comparing the two of them, and nothing Lucien gave her was enough. He had been the one to reject the bond, and after 7 years, he had found himself heavily involved in a relationship with a now fully fae Vassa and Jurian.
Rhys and Cassian both gave him gentle looks of concern as he held your hand, preventing you from walking away. He stared Rhys in the eyes, doing something he felt Rhysand had never done to prove a point. "I'd rather go home with you, so if you were planning on winnowing, we might as well go together." He picked you.
They watched as all tension left your body, as security eased into your face. "Then let's go home." Azriel grabbed the leathers, nodding to Rhys and Cassian before following you.
Azriel's elbow locked around your neck, hand squeezing your hip as he pinned you below him and continued taking you from behind. You both had no interest in heading to Hewn City, so you had distracted him, walking into your shared bedroom in just a pretty blue silk night gown offering to give your body to him for what he had done, the message he had sent.
You were supposed to be getting ready, but instead, Azriel was growling above you, pumping into you carelessly. Your toes curled at how deep he was hitting, at how good he felt, how good he felt every time. "So close," you whispered. "So fucking close-" You were moaning his name when the knock on the door came.
A shadow rushed to him, curling his ear as he paused. "It's Elain," he muttered. "She's relentless." You whined below him, hips wiggling to get friction back. "Baby,"
"Please," you begged. "It's been weeks, I've been so good, please, daddy."
Azriel felt his cock twitch at the use of the name. He'd longed for a moment to erase the memory of what happened, and you had just given it to him. He felt you moving your hips, doing the best you could while pinned to the mattress to fuck yourself on his cock.
You were his focus, the rest of the world melting away as he heard your moans turning into screams of his name. You sounded so pretty coming for him, crying for him, begging for more for less for everything as oversensitivity took over. You especially looked pretty dripping his seed when he pulled out of you. Once again, he had chosen you.
You two laid there, holding each other until claws came for both of you. Scratching angerly as your mental shields and causing you to bury your head into Azriel's chest. "We need to get ready unless you want him showing up here next," Azriel played with your hair, scratching your scalp lightly. "Let's see how many siphons I blow through."
After 2 sets of siphons being destroyed, you were currently dragging Azriel down the streets of Velaris and to your brother and father's tailor. You knew she'd be able to fit and dress him in seconds and that he'd look every bit handsome as he deserved. You were pissed when you saw he had been gifted Illyrian leathers and not a suit. Your father was out of touch with Azriel. With you.
"Helena," you smiled at the older female. "We need help."
Azriel felt stiff. Staring at the doors of Heen City as a shocked page boy ran to inform Rhys and Feyre of the late arrival. You two were about to upstage them in their own court. The guests of honor arriving late and being introduced after the Lord and his Lady.
You would have upstaged them by yourself anyway, though. Azriel admired you one more time. Rhys had picked well, though you both would never admit it. The dress had a see-through bodice of black lace and floral applicates with thin straps. It led to a satin skirt that was tight and then flared out to your hips. The left leg had a high slit, showing the toned beautiful skin Azriel was begging to cover in his kisses. You had picked a simple necklace, a single tear drop shaped sapphire with matching earring and a matching bracelet. Your ring sat on manicured nails painted a soft shade of pink to white coffin head tips. Heels graced your feet, the red underside flashing when you walked. "Gods, you are stunning," he finally whispered out in a hoarse voice.
"And all yours," you looked at him, adjusting the lapel of his jacket. "Forever." Your mask slipped on as the doors opened, a collective gasp ringing through the room over who was on your arm followed by whispers.
Azriel knew this song and dance, walking you into one thousand eyes staring and gawking. He hated seeing you like this as you were ushered to the dance floor. The first dance of the night had been delayed, and the fae were restless.
Once you were centered on the floor, you turned facing him, eyes cold and distant as you disassociated from this place. He placed a hand on your hip, leaving his other to his side where both of your sat.
It was unfair of Feyre and Rhysand to expect you to do this traditional waltz, but you followed Azriel's steps as the music began, that first note echoing in your bones and soul. Your parents had claimed your first dance with your mate. The first true dance you two would ever share, and it had to be done in front of hundreds of fae who spat your direction when the Lord and Lady were busy.
Azriel had decided he hated this side of you. He was studying you like a project. You were a different female down here. Cold, uncaring, forced into this role of the High Lord's daughter.
Did these fae know you took far too much creamer in your coffee?
That you were afraid of storms?
That you only ate fruit pastries because you found chocolate too bitter?
You were Rhysand through and through with that mask on. But inside, inside Azriel knew you carried the very light of what your grandfather built. You were a true dreamer, and you could rattle the very stars themselves if your father would just give you the chance.
If Rhysand would just believe in you.
Azriel decided in that moment what the answer to your happiness was. He'd take you tonight and you two would leave.
Fuck expectations.
Fuck the rules.
Fuck your family.
Azriel would pick you for the third time today, and you two would leave.
He just had to get you through this visit at Hewn City first, and as he watched Elain shatter a champagne flute in her hands, he knew that was going to be a mission all on its own.
General Taglist:
@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanager @bloodicka @starsinyourseyes @the-sweet-psycho @mariahoedt @rinalouu @sarawritestories @starryhiraeth @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @cumuluscranium @loneliestluvr @eternallyelvish
Azriel-
@elle4404
Small World Taglist-
@amara-moonlight @iimichie @acourtofbatboydreams @justasillylittlegoofyguy @janesalvarerelochanarcheron @hungryforbatboys @sidthedollface2 @hunt1bryce
#acotar#acotar x reader#azriel acotar#azriel#azriel x reader#azriel x you#azriel x y/n#azriel x feysands daughter!reader#az x reader#azriel shadowsinger#azriel spymaster
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Freezer
Description: If you get locked in the walk-in freezer with your hot boss, you need to warm up somehow.
Content: carmy x reader (no use of y/n), injury(cut finger) and mention of blood, sort of enemies to lovers, oral f!receiving, fingering, unprotected piv sex, dirty talk, use of pet names
Author’s Note: I need him IN MY BONES. i wrote this before watching the ep when this happens LOL. also i love feedback if you want to leave it! <3
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It started as a normal day of work-as in Carmy was yelling, Richie was an asshole, and Sydney was solving everything.
It ended up being an intense day for an unofficial kitchen assistant. There was a large rush of customers at lunch, leaving Carmy’s veins to protrude as he yelled at everyone to make more food.
“50 more beef, 20 veggie, 16 everything chefs!”
“Heard, chef!” The kitchen chorused back.
He called your name.
“Yes, chef?”
“I need the two slabs of beef left in the fridge, and then you need to go drive and get more.”
“Heard, chef,” you say, writing the instructions down quickly on your notepad.
Carmy was already gone, at his station picking up the pound of beef. You stared as his bicep curved out, his hand flexed and gripped the bag. You were interrupted by-
“Chef! I need those tomatoes!” Sydney said. “They have to be in the pot in 5!”
Fuck-the tomatoes you were chopping for Sydney’s sauce before this meeting started.
“Yes chef!”
“And we’re talking about whatever that was later!” she said. You tense as you realize she saw you gawking.
“Syyyyd!” You whine. She grins.
“Get to work!” Carmy hollers from around a corner, and you dash back to the sink.
You had finished half of the ten tomatoes sydney requested. You picked up the knife and got to work on the 6th of the bunch.
You were mindlessly chopping for maybe a minute before someone slammed into your back, knocking you forward and causing you to slice your finger.
“Fuck!” you gasped. You whirled around to see who it was. “Say behind!”
Of course. Richie. He looked down at you and his lip curled.
“Not my fault! Pay more attention next time.”
He stalked off, rolling his eyes.
Whatever, you didn’t have time for this. Luckily no blood got on the tomatoes, so you wrapped the cut in paper towel and got back to work careful to keep that finger away from the food. You slid the cut up food into a bowl and carried it to Sydney, placing it next to her.
“Thanks, chef,” she said, checking the tomatoes.
“Of course, chef.”
“Whoa, you good?” she said, noticing your finger.
“Yeah, I’ll fix it after I finish,” you said.
“Okay..” she said, raising an eyebrow. “Be careful.”
“I will, chef!” You say, already heading to the freezer. “Corner!”
You reached the freezer and pulled open the door to slip inside, looking for the beef Carmy had asked for.
“Ah!” You jumped, shoulder blade hitting the metal shelf. Carmy startled from the racks he was leaning on.
“What the fuck?” He leaned on the door to steady himself; pushing it closed.
“Fuck-sorry chef,” You said quickly. “I didn’t know you were in here.”
“Clearly,” he groaned, tipping his head back against the shelf. You could feel the shame burning up your chest and sternum.
“Just get your stuff and go, okay?”
You nodded and leaned over, right hand on the metal coils as you looked for the beef on the bottom shelf.
“It’s right there,” he said angrily, gesturing to the slab. Great day so far. You cut yourself and now your workplace crush was yelling at you. Like you could focus when he was right there. You could feel his body heat.
You gripped the plastic and lifted the meat into the crook of your left arm. Hefting it up, you turned and reached for the door handle, avoiding eye contact with Carmy.
You pulled the handle. Nothing happened. What?
You tried again. Still nothing more than a slight jiggle, and the door didn’t budge.
“What the fuck?” You mumbled.
“Let me try,” he said, moving into your space. His wide shoulders brushed against you, reminding you of all that manliness and what you wanted it to do to you.
You stepped back, the weight of the beef (and your attraction to Carmy) already starting to burn. You switched arms as he yanked hard on the handle, bicep and shoulder muscles flexing. He added his other hand and pulled down and back. Nothing.
This could not be happening. You can’t be stuck in here with Carmy. He’ll eat you alive, and not in the way you wanted. You couldn’t stand the thought of the cause of that twist in your gut hating you.
“Fuck!” he yelled, slamming his fist against the door. “Richie! Syd!”
You both knew the door was metal, several inches thick. They’d have to be close to hear him.
You gasped and set the beef back so you could curl your arms around yourself. Carmy whirled around.
“You fucking locked us in here!” he said, pointing at you.
“Me?!” You yelled back. “It’s not my fault the door jammed!”
“Yes it is!” he fired back. “This wouldn’t have happened if you didn’t come in here!”
“I was getting the fucking beef you asked me for!” You screamed back.
He was about to respond when you heard muffled voices outside.
“Syd!” You called out.
“Cousin!” He yelled at the same time.
“What’re you guys doing in there?” you hear Sydney say through the door.
“The fucking door won’t open!” Carmy exclaimed. “Get us out!”
The handle shook, then shook more violently.
“I think it’s jammed!” came Richie’s yell.
“No shit, Sherlock,” you mumble.
Carmy looks at you out of the corner of his eye before turning back. “So can you fix it?”
“Um, not sure,” came his cousin’s reply. “I think we need to get Fak…”
“Fuck!” Carmy exclaimed louder, pushing his tattooed hands through his hair. “It’s lunch rush! I cant be stuck in here!”
“I’d also like to be outside!” You add.
“It’s okay chef,” Sydney’s voice responds. “I’ll keep us on task while Richie works to get you out. We won’t fall behind.”
“I got this, cousin!” Richie says.
Carmy sighs and leans his head against the freezer door, resting his hands on it.
“Good, chef. You’ll have a limited menu since our meat is in here.”
“On it Chef. We were due for a shipment anyway.”
“Thank you chef. An-“
Sydney cuts him off saying your name. “Just breathe, okay? We’ll get you out as soon as possible.”
“Thank you Syd,” you reply, feeling grateful for her ability to take charge.
“Oh! And I’ll slip a bandage under the door!”
“Ahhh thank you,” You respond with relief, looking down at the paper towel that was almost completely red.
That caught Carmy’s attention. His head whipped around to look at you as her footsteps pattered away.
“You good?”
You looked at him in surprise. “Yeah…just cut my finger.”
His eyebrows furrowed. “You have to be careful. We can’t be losing manpower.”
You glared. “Richie slammed into me. My carefulness didn’t have anything to do with it.”
“Here you go,” Syd said as she slid the bandaid under the door. “Fak will be here in an hour or so.”
“What?” you exclaim at the same time.
“Apparently he likes to go to a specific movie theater an hour away. I don’t fucking know.”
You groan along with Carmy.
You slid down to sit on the cement floor and set about trying to open the bandage, but hissed when it slid across your cut.
Carmy sighed. “Let me help you with that.”
“I got it, thanks. Isn’t it because I wasn’t careful enough, anyway?” You say.
“You can’t blame me for trying to keep the restaurant running.”
“Thanks for the sympathy.”
“Just let me do it.”
Carmy lowered himself to the floor, leaning back on his haunches. The image of this larger-than-life man on his knees for you made you slow, handing over the bandage.
He took it and began to unwrap.
“I know you’re careful,” he says into his hands.
“Huh?” you ask in surprise.
He looks up at you, those beautiful blue eyes upping your heart rate. “I know you’re careful. I shouldn’t have yelled.”
Oh fuck. New reason why you couldn’t stay in here. You were gonna fall in love with him.
The praise makes you smile, and his face seems to lighten at that. “Thanks,” you say. “I assume it helps my case that Richie has a reputation for being not careful.”
He huffs a smile. “Maybe a bit.” He reaches his hand out gently. Seeing the veins and tattoos on the backs of his hands were not helping your heartbeat. Your nerves shake as he takes your hand and undoes the paper towel with the other.
His face hardens and you look to see why. The gash was deeper than you realized, but nothing new to kitchen staff.
“Fuckin’ Richie,” Carmy grumbles angrily.
“It’s fine,” you say reassuringly. “Nothing I can’t handle.”
He makes eye contact again. “You shouldn’t have to. Not in my kitchen.”
Your lips part in surprise, and you think you catch him looking at them a beat too long before returning to your hand. The fact that such talented, skilled hands were working on your little cut was wild to you.
A curl fell in his face, and you had to resist the urge to push it back for him. He was finishing up the bandage, and your mind screamed keep him over here.
“How are we gonna keep from freezing to death in here?” You ask, half joking.
He moves back to lean against the shelves on the opposite wall, legs crossed at the ankle. You immediately feel the absence of his hands on you.
He shrugs. “I’m used to it.”
“All that means is you won’t notice when the hypothermia kicks in.”
His eyebrows furrow. “That cannot be true.”
“Yeah, I have no idea.” You respond, stretching your legs out so they’re parallel to his.
He chuckles, louder than you thought he would.
“How is the job so far?” He asks.
“Good,” you say. “Better than a lot of kitchens. Except when I have to sit in a freezer with my boss.” You nudge his knee with yours.
“C’mon, is he really that bad?” Carmy teases.
You think for a minute. “No, honestly. He’s pretty fantastic at everything he does. In appearance, too. I don’t know how he keeps those white shirts so clean.”
“I meant to be in a freezer with,” Carmy responds. There’s a shameful beat.
“I-“
“I’m just messing with you,” He smirks.
You roll your eyes, still embarrassed for your lovey rant.
“I look fantastic, huh?”
You squirm. “I didn’t mean it like that-“
“How did you mean it then? Don’t hurt my feelings.”
“Can they be hurt?” You ponder. “I’m sure many women have told you similarly.”
He shakes his head. “That’s probably the only personal compliment I’ve gotten in years. They’ve all been about my cooking.” His face is a bit pink now.
You rub your arms, the goosebumps a combination of the freezer and Carmy’s gaze on you. Speaking of, his eyes follow the movement of your arms and his jaw ticks.
“That’s almost unbelievable to me,” You begin. “That no one tells you you look good.”
“Do people tell you that?” He asks.
“Sometimes, I suppose,” You say. “When I look nicer than this.” You gesture down at yourself.
“You still look nice,” He says gravelly, crossing his arms over his chest. You have to tear your eyes away from his forearms to respond.
“Thanks, so do you,” You say lightly, hoping it’s not obvious how much you mean it.
You can tell from his eyes he sees through you, though.
“I know you think so,” He says lowly.
“Oh yeah?” You ask nervously.
“Yeah,” he almost groans. “The way you look at me when I cook-it’s so distracting.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you whisper.
“Yes you do,” he says, eyes hard. “But you’re so focused, and careful, that you never see when I’m looking the same way at you.”
You swallow hard. There was no way this was real. Carmy being into you? Impossible.
“Yeah, right,” You respond.
His jaw ticks. “What, you don’t think that’s true?”
“Carmy, look at you. Then look at me. Of course I don’t think that’s true.” You shake.
He pushes his hands through his curls again. His shirt rises up an inch when he does, and you can’t help but glance at the bit of happy trail-
“See,” He groans. “I cant think straight around you. Especially when you look at me like that. Like I’m worth your attention.”
“Of course you are, Chef,” you say, looking into his eyes as your voice went lower.
The name seemed to do him in. His frazzled look shifted to feral, eyes bright and hair in every direction.
“You never answered my question,” You said lowly.
“What question?”
“How are we gonna stay warm in here?” You say, tone suggesting there was more to what you were saying. “Because I can think of a few ideas…”
“Oh, so can I,” He said gravelly, dragging his eyes down your body as you rose up on your knees. “All of them require you getting over here.” he said.
Didn’t have to tell you twice. He uncrossed his legs, his perfect thighs framing a seat for you. Before you could sit, his large hands crept onto your back, grasping you as he put his face onto your belly.
“Is this okay?” He asked, tone serious.
“Yes, yes,” you almost whine, hands reaching the back of his head.
When you run your fingers through your hair like you’d been dreaming about, he groans.
This giant, muscled man groans into your stomach. You feel like jelly.
“Fuck,” he mumbles. “I haven’t done this in a long time.”
You had heard about his nonexistent dating history. But you didn’t care.
“We don’t have to do anything you don’t want,” You say, looking down at him.
“No,” he groans, looking up at you, the angle of his eyes and his hands gripping you making you even wetter. “I want.”
You gasp and that reaction seems to spur him on. He slides his hands down your thighs and pulls you into his lap.
You groan quietly as you feel his cock through his pants, already hardening just from you being close. You couldn’t believe it.
“You feel that? What you do to me?” He asks, tucking your hair behind your ear. “You think it’s true now?”
“Yeah, yeah,” you gasp. “Wanna feel what you do to me?”
He groans in your ear. “Oh, we’ll get there.”
Then, he kisses you. And not a polite one. He kisses you like you’re a new recipe he made: new and delicious and ready to be devoured whole.
You moan and his grip on your shirt tightens like you’ll disappear if he doesn’t hold on. You tug on his hair and your hips involuntarily buck against him.
He pulls back and moves his mouth to your neck. “Needy little thing, aren’t you?”
“I could-“ His teeth scrape your neck. “I could say the same thing about you.”
His hands grasp your face and kiss you again, holding you and taking you.
You reach your hands for the hem of his shirt, needing something to ground you with the heat running through your body. As soon as you reach your hands underneath his shirt and scrape your nails up, he seems to go haywire.
His hands grip anywhere they can reach, your back, your hips, your shoulders, your hair. Not quite where you want him.
You pull back and he looks worried. But that look dissipates when you reach for the bottom of your shirt, pulling it up and over your head.
“Oh…pretty girl…” he mumbles, hands sliding up from your hips and across your stomach.
You smile and reach your arms to the back of your bra.
“You want this off too?” You ask.
“Yes, oh god, please-“
Your thighs try to squeeze together from his desperation, but his hips are in the way and he notices.
“You like that baby? You like when I beg?”
You whimper. Oh god. And he heard it.
“I can do that, pretty girl, I can beg,” He says, his blue eyes in yours.
“Fuck, Carmy-“ You groan.
His hands move up, sliding seductively up your skin. “Can I take it off baby? Want it to be me that gets to undress you.”
“Yeah, you can,” You nod, unable to form sentences. He was gonna kill you.
He undoes the clasp on the first try, and his eyes get wider as the bra falls away. Your nipples turn into points from the cold freezer.
“Ohhh pretty girl, look at these,” he says in fascination, running his thumbs over your peaks.
The rough skin against you makes you moan, head falling back as he grasps your tits in his hands.
“So, so pretty,” he says, and then he scrapes his teeth against them. You gasp, as he continues to suck and bite at your breasts. “Wanna hold ‘em every day-“
“Fuck-so glad you like them Carmy,” you groan. “Please, please can you take this off?”
You grasp at his shirt. “Of course, baby,” he says, hair even crazier than normal from your tugging. He helps you lift it up and over his head.
“Oh, god,” you say, eyes widening as you finally see him in his full glory. Seeing his defined biceps next to his pecs and happy trail might knock you out cold. “Oh Carmy you are fantastic.”
That makes him laugh, and you grab his neck to kiss him again, and he moans into your mouth. Your other hand runs down his chest, dragging along the waistband. His hands grasped your boobs, and it felt better than you thought it would.
His desperation and muscle was making you soaked. You needed him to touch you.
“Carm-“ You squirm in his lap, looking for friction.
“I know, baby, I got you,” he says. “C’mere.”
He holds you into him with one arm, and you bite at his shoulder as he looks for the shirts on the hard ground, making a makeshift pillow for you.
He lays you back, and you watch him as he slowly kisses and nicks his way down your body, getting more teethy and possessive as he gets lower.
He reaches the waistband of your pants, and looks up at you for assurance. You look at the door nervously, and he catches it.
“I’m not gonna let anyone see you,” He says. “This is for me,” he grabs your ass. “Understand?”
You nod desperately and wiggle your hips.
“I wanna hear you say it.”
“Heard, chef,” you tease, and he tsks at you, smirking.
He pulls your pants down and over your ankles, adjusting himself to breathe over your thighs.
You inhale sharply as the cold hits your legs, goosebumps forming. Carmy’s hands soothe you, running up your thighs slowly.
He rubs his thumb over the wet spot on your underwear and looks up at you. “All this for me?”
“Told you you’d feel what you do to me.” you say.
“Ugh, pretty girl, you’re gonna kill me.” he groans into your thigh, biting down and you whimper.
“Please, Carm, don’t tease-“
He pulls your underwear down in one swift motion, looking at you for reassurance before pulling your thighs over his shoulders and diving into his meal.
You can’t help your load moan as he licks a stripe all the way up your folds, circling your clit when he gets there.
Your hands twist into his hair but he doesn’t seem to mind. In fact, his hands clamp harder into your thighs as your taste spurs him on.
“Fuck,” His nose- that perfect nose- rubs your clit over and over and you almost squeal just from the visual: his tattooed hands on your thighs, his curls in your fingers, his blue eyes looking straight into yours.
He pushes his tongue into you and your hips buck as you moan when he curls it up. The absence of it inside you makes you whimper, until his middle finger enters you and you really do squeal.
“Carmy- ah-“
“Yeah, baby, lemme hear you.”
He curls his finger and hits that spongey spot inside you, making your hips buck again. His eyes look scoldingly at you before he removes his right hand and presses down on your lower stomach.
“Shit-!” Your head lolls back. “That’s a nice trick, Chef-“ You can feel him smirk.
The pressure makes the finger pumping inside you pleasing in a whole new way. Still sucking on your clit, Carmy curls another finger inside you.
“Fuck, fuck, I’m gonna-“
“I got you, c’mon, come for me, wanna see you come all over my fingers,” Carmy says desperately, and you listen, snapping loose and releasing all over him.
Your boss made you cum. Hard. Did you need to call HR?
Nope. All you needed was to see him rising back over you, kissing up your stomach and over your breasts.
His mouth was covered in your wet, and you grabbed his jaw hard to kiss him, your tongue in his mouth to taste yourself on him.
“Fantastic?” He asks.
“Fantastic.” you respond, meaning it. “Let’s hope Fak gets stuck in traffic,” you whisper into his lips.
“Why?” he responds, teasing. You slide your hand down his chest and over his ass.
“Because I want you inside me,” you say. He moans and kisses you again, hard, whilst reaching for the fly on his jeans.
“I was thinking the same thing,” he smiles into your lips. “Hands, chef, hands.”
You giggle and go to help him pull his pants down his legs and over his feet, kissing his jaw. You run your fingers over the happy trail you had been ogling, and grasp his cock over his boxers. He grunts in your ear, and takes your hand away.
“Gonna come too fast,” he says, holding your hand above your head and kissing you. “You make me crazy.”
“Same here, Carm.” You say, nipping at his neck. Your other hand teases at the waistline of his boxers.
He looks into your eyes. “Are you sure about this?”
“Yes, Carmy, fuck, please.”
“Good.” He says, tugging his boxers down and you finally get to see him in all his glory. God, you didn’t think he could get more beautiful. Seeing him entirely naked sent another wave of wetness between your thighs.
“You’re so pretty, Carmy,” you mumble. He slid his hands up the outside of your thighs, keeping his eyes locked on yours.
“All for you, baby,” his hand goes to his cock, and as the head slides inside you your head lolls back and groan.
“Hey, look at me.” You look back up to stare into his icy eyes. “Don’t stop.” He says.
He slides further into you and your jaw hangs open, trying so hard to keep eye contact with him.
You both groan as he bottoms out, every vein and ridge of him inside of you. Your pussy is still sensitive from the previous mind-blowing orgasm, and-
“God, pretty girl, you feel so good,” he groans in your ear. “Taking me so well.”
You pulse at the praise, and he feels it. You feel his smirk on your jaw. “You like that?”
“Yeah,” you gasp, your nails find purchase on his back.
He rolls into you, and it has your thighs squeezing around his hips immediately.
“Shit, pretty girl.”
“Fuck, Carmy, feels so good,” you moan as he starts his rhythm, every ridge of his cock dragging inside your walls. The cold of the freezer vanishing against the hotness of your bodies.
His forearm is on the floor next your head, his other hand grasping your ass as he pummels into you.
Your back scrapes on the floor, to match the marks you’re making on Carmy’s back.
“Look so good with me inside you,” he grunts and you choke. His hand on your ass moves between your thighs and he circles your clit.
“Fuck- too much,” you gasp, clit sensitive.
“You can take it.”
“Ah- Car- I’m gonna-“
“Me too, pretty girl, cmon-“ The nickname gets you every time, and you gush over him, squeezing around his cock.
He makes a choked sound and falls over the ledge after you, collapsing on top of your chest.
You both breathe heavily, you rubbing up and down his back.
“That might have been more fantastic than your cooking,” You smile to the ceiling. He chuckles into your neck.
“Heard, chef.”
You were both dressed by the time Fak finally arrived, half an hour late complaining about unmissable after-credit scenes.
Parting, you had gained a cell phone number and an address from Carmy, a kiss goodbye, and a “see you later” that promised many more.
#carmy berzatto smut#the bear#the bear smut#jeremy allen white#jeremy allen white smut#carmen berzatto smut#carmy berzatto x reader#carmen berzatto x reader#carmy berzatto x reader smut#carmen berzatto x reader smjt#the bear x reader#shameless#shameless smut
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If I Should Stay
Y’all are the best. Seriously. I love y’all. One quick note: if y’all reblog, please include the tag “#if I should stay” (mind the capital i) so people can find the rest of the parts! Thanks so much!!! ❤️
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5
Eddie does end up following Robin because he does not, in fact, have a death wish.
Even if, apparently, he dies in the future. Go figure.
She instructs him to grab his guitar. “Why in the fuck,” he starts, then reconsiders when Robin whips around to stare at him. “Anyone ever tell you you’re terrifying?”
Robin shrugs a shoulder. “Not as much as they should.”
She stashes her bike in the back of his van and directs him to the Harrington residence, where Steve’s waiting, arms crossed, wondering smile on his face. “Miracle worker,” he calls, and Robin laughs as she grabs her bike from the back.
“Hate to break it to ya, Dingus, but you’re just not scary.”
“I’m plenty scary. I’ve got a nail bat.”
“Right, because that would beat Nance’s sawed-off in a fight.”
“Hey, it could! You never know! They’ve got different ranges!”
Robin rolls her eyes at Eddie, like she’s asking if he can believe it, which. No. No he can’t.
“Sorry,” he says, regretting everything when they both look at him. “What the actual fuck is happening?”
“Come inside,” Steve says, suddenly all business. “We’ve got a lot to discuss.” His eyes find Robin’s. “One of ‘em took Barb last night.”
“Fuck,” Robin whispers.
“Yup. Will’s been missing for two days. Maybe, if we get down there soon enough…”
“Let’s hope so. Which one of the rugrats found El?”
“I think they all did? But Mike’s the one who took her in.” He shakes his head, mouth a grim line. “I saw Dustin today. They’re kids, Robs.”
“So are we,” she reminds him, heaving a tired-sounding sigh. “A buncha kids fighting real-life monsters.”
“Monsters?” Eddie parrots.
Somehow they end up inside while Steve goes to pick up the Party. Who the party is, Eddie doesn’t know. Just like he doesn’t know why he’s in Steve’s Harrington’s house with someone who isn’t Steve Harrington.
“Who’s the Party?” He asks Robin. “And why am I here again? If I die, doesn’t that mean I shouldn’t be here? Should be somewhere far, far away instead?”
“The Party’s a group of kids Steve babysits. They’re the first ones to go through this whole mess. And admittedly, you’re here partially because you can help, and partially for selfish reasons.” She offers him a lopsided grin. “Believe it or not, watching you die was kinda traumatic.”
“Right,” he says slowly. “And you and Steve? How do you know each other? He and Nancy Wheeler are the talk of the town, and if he’s stepping out-”
“He wouldn’t,” she says harshly. “Ever.” She takes a breath. “Two years from now, or a year ago, he and I work together in a mall. Long story short, we get captured and tortured by Russians. High on truth serum, I tell him I’m a lesbian in the bathroom, we help take down the big bad, and boom. Instant platonic soulmates.”
Eddie gapes at her. “What the fuck.”
“Just about,” she nods. “Oh, and the kids love D&D, so you’ll have plenty to talk about. They’re little shits but they’re also kinda great once you get to know them.”
Eddie stares at her. The front door opens, and Steve walks in, followed by a gaggle of preteens and Nancy Wheeler.
“Robs,” Steve says, not slowing his stride as he begins taking the stairs two at a time. “Bathroom. Now.”
Robin grimaces. “Breakdown time,” she murmurs to Eddie, then follows Steve, leaving everyone else staring at each other.
“So,” Eddie says. “I heard you like D&D?”
A dark-haired kid who looks suspiciously like Nancy narrows his eyes. “You play?”
“Play!” Eddie repeats. “I don’t just play, my young friend, I am the greatest Dungeon Master this side of the Mississippi.”
A curly-haired kid begins to grin. “I think we should put that to the test.”
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Fic Taglist: @blondlanfear @do-you-want-something-more @little-gae-shit
#if I should stay#eventual steddie#stranger things#steve harrington#eddie munson#robin buckley#dustin henderson#he’s the curly-haired boy at the end#in case it wasn’t obvious lmao#time travel au#fix it fic#starambles
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where you want your gift, girl? | Joel Miller
Summary | It’s your birthday and Joel, knowing it’s not your favourite celebration, is keen to show you that it‘s not always going to be a bad day, not if he can help it.
Warnings | birthdays, allusions to strained parental relationships, food & alcohol consumption, smoking of (1) cigarette, no/pre-outbreak AU, gift giving, explicit smut, rough sex, choking/breath play, brief spit play, oral sex (F Receiving), safe unprotected sex, dirty talk, creampie, cumplay, literally just filth tbh, no use of y/n.
Word Count | 4.2K
Authors Note | Honestly? It’s my birthday today and all I want is for Joel Miller to fucking rail me to celebrate - we can’t have everything we want I suppose, so we’ll have to deal with writing our fantasies instead! Happy Birthday to me - Enjoy!
Masterlist | Ko-Fi
You’d never really enjoyed birthdays. Other people’s, sure. The opportunity to treat your friends and make other people happy was something you’d always loved, but when it was you as the centre of attention, you almost hated it. The way people would train their eyes on you as you opened their gifts, the anxiety that you felt not knowing what it would be and whether you’d have to pretend it was the best thing in the world when you could think of a million things you needed above what they’d given you. It always made you feel ungrateful. Birthdays aren’t as exciting as you get older either, just another reminder of how far behind the rest of your friends you are, how little you seemed to have accomplished next to them in the same amount of years.
It was no different this year, not really. Your mother had phoned you before you’d gone to work, asked if you received the card she’d sent in the post that had the customary $100 stuffed into it, before chiding you for not doing as you said you would last time you spoke and find a new job, something more challenging, related to that degree you’d spent all her money on. You sigh and hang up the phone before she can say anything else, a mumbled sorry that you were running late but thank you for the card.
The only saving grace for your birthday this year was the fact it was a Friday, so you didn’t have to worry about drinking too much beer and having to go to work the next morning with a hangover. To their credit, your work colleagues had been quite nice to you - they’d pooled together to get you a gift card for you to spend on whatever you’d like, and Sandra from accounts had made you a birthday cake – red velvet because it was your favourite. Once everyone had eaten a slice, she put a Tupperware on your desk with two more generous slices in it, winking at you before walking away.
“For your handsome boyfriend.” She’d said, giggling as she walked away.
There was another saving grace for your birthday, you supposed. Joel Miller. Who had burst into your life in a whirlwind eight months ago when his beautiful daughter had spilled her hot chocolate all over your crisp new shirt in her hurry to get to the table so she could drink it. He’d been the most apologetic you ever thought you’d seen a man, helping you to wipe the worst of it off with napkins whilst Sarah profusely apologised next to you. You’d put a comforting hand on her shoulder, told her it was okay, and that you understood entirely, you’d have been as excited as her to drink hot chocolate with whipped cream and marshmallows. Joel had insisted on paying for your dry cleaning, something you’re pretty sure only ever happened in films, and when you’d phoned him to tell him it really had been a minimal amount, he’d asked to take you to dinner instead, and the rest really was history.
He’s phoning you now, his name popping up on the front screen of your phone, you smile as you answer it.
“Hello, handsome.” You greet.
“Good afternoon,” His southern drawl hits your ears, “Happy birthday, my darlin’ girl.”
God, he makes you so happy, “Thank you, cowboy.”
“You want me to pick you up and take you for dinner?” He asks, “Tommy is gonna look after Sarah tonight, so I’m all yours, whatever you wanna do.”
You think for a second, sure, dinner out is a nice idea, but it’s been a long week, and you think what you want most is to be at home with him, “You think you could grill me a steak and let me drink beer on your couch instead?” You ask, slightly embarrassed that this is all you want for your birthday.
“If that’s what you want, darlin’, then I’ll grill you the best steak of your life,” He chuckles, and then you can hear him cover the phone and speak to Sarah, who must be just back from school, “Sarah wants to speak to you real quick.”
He passes the phone and it’s Sarah’s sweet voice that greets you next, “Happy birthday!”
“Thank you, honey,” You smile, “You looking forward to some time with your Uncle Tommy?”
“He’s gonna take me to the movies,” You can hear the grin on her face, “I already heard dad telling him not to feed me too much candy, but he never listens,” You chuckle, “I got you a present,” She speaks again, “I gave it to dad so you can open it later.”
“Ahhh you sweet girl,” You coo, “I’m sure I’ll love it,” You reassure, “And I’ll be there tomorrow so I can thank you in person.”
“Alright,” She replies, “Dad wants the phone back, but have a nice birthday with him!”
You say goodbye to her, and then Joel tells you he’ll be waiting for you when you finish to bring you home. It’s only two hours until the end of the day, but you struggle to focus on the emails you’ve got to answer – you get through as few as is acceptable before the end of the day, logging out at exactly 5:30pm, box of cake clutched in your hand, handbag slung over your shoulder as you head out.
Joel is leaning against the side of his truck, arms crossed over his chest so his biceps are bulging in the flannel he’s wearing, he’s also got one of his ankles crossed over the over. He looks so casual but as devastatingly handsome as he always is. He slips an arm around your waist when you’re close enough, pushing his palm into your lower back to press your body to his, dipping down to press his lips to yours. He’s gentle with it, opening his mouth against yours so he can slip his tongue into your mouth, letting his tongue meld with your own, kissing you slowly, like he’s got all the time in the world.
“Get a room, you two!” It’s Sandra from accounts.
Joel pulls away just enough to laugh against your lips, pressing his to yours once more before pulling away properly, opening the car door for you to get in, pressing a light swat of his hand to your ass as you hoist yourself up into the truck.
Once he’s slipped into the driver's side and settled one of his hands on your upper thigh, he starts the drive from the city out to his house. It’s a quiet drive, Joel’s humming along to whatever is playing on the radio, you’re occupied with looking out the window. This is what you love about Joel, that he’ll sit in silence, won’t feel the need to make you talk, it makes you feel comfortable, knowing that he’s there when you need him, but he’s not going to force you to speak when you don’t want to.
He’s pulled into the drive in no time, picking up the grocery bags from the backseat. You try and peak inside to see what he’s bought; you’re hoping he’s got the ingredients to make those mashed potatoes you like, and mushrooms that he’ll cook on the grill too.
When he opens the door, you’re almost overwhelmed by the sight that greets you. There are gold and black balloons littering the floor, with one bigger helium balloon, weighted down so it doesn’t float along the ceiling, set in the corner with big ‘happy birthday’ lettering written on it. There’s a birthday banner pinned to the wall, and a selection of wrapped gifts on the coffee table. You have a sneaking suspicion that most of this is Sarah’s doing.
You giggle a little as Joel presses himself against your back, kissing at your neck, “How much of this was Sarah?” You ask, following him through to the kitchen.
“She blew up all those balloons before she went to bed last night, and she did all the wrapping, but the banner and the big balloon, that was all me, baby.”
You press your lips to his cheek, smiling as he starts unloading the grocery bags. Two ribeye steaks, and just like you wanted, mushrooms to grill, and potatoes to mash. He leaves you in charge of watching the potatoes whilst he grills the rest of the food outside. Whilst it’s resting, he mashes the potatoes with enough butter to clog your arteries, but when you sit at the table, and those potatoes are in your mouth, you can’t find it in you to care - it’s your birthday after all.
“Everythin’ alright, baby?” He asks, cutting into his steak.
“It’s perfect,” You grin, spearing a grilled mushroom onto your fork, “Better than sitting in a stuffy restaurant anyway.”
You finish your food in relative silence. Joel insists on doing the dishes even if he did most of the cooking, before he’s leading you back to the living room.
Joel sits you down on the couch, treading as carefully as he can through the trail of balloons to get you a fresh beer. He kneels down on the floor between you and the coffee table, taking a glug of his beer, before reaching across the table for the first gift, setting it in your lap.
“That one is from Sarah,” He explains, “She made me promise you would open it first.”
“Rules are rules,” You shrug with a chuckle, carefully tearing open the wrapping paper.
When you pull the paper from the material it was wrapped in you feel overwhelmed. It’s the exact same blouse that Sarah had tipped her hot chocolate over, just in black instead of white. The shirt had been a write off from the start, the chocolate leaving a stain that even the dry cleaner couldn’t get out.
“She saved her pocket money for months to buy this,” He murmurs, pinching the silky fabric between his fingers, “Said if it was what brought us together, she wanted you to be able to wear it.”
You can feel tears prickling at your eyes as you fold the material up carefully, “She’s such a special girl, Joel.” You whisper, watching as Joel leans back over the table to pick up another gift.
“This one’s from Tommy.” He murmurs, handing you the largest box on the table.
You rip the paper off and open the box, revealing an actual cowboy hat. You laugh, because Tommy has always said in order to properly fit in, you’d need a cowboy hat. Joel reaches into the box, pulling the brown Stetson out of its box, placing it on your head.
“Suits you, cowgirl,” He growls, leaning under the brim of the hat to kiss you, nibbling your bottom lip as he pulls away, “Keep it on.” He demands when you go to take it off.
“He didn’t need to get me a gift,” You mutter as Joel moves the two final gifts towards you, “And it’s a proper Stetson, this must have cost a fortune.”
“Not that it matters, because everyone in this household thinks the world of you, but he thrifted it, mainly because you’ve rubbed off on him and he thinks getting a pair of Levi’s for half price because someone doesn’t want them anymore is the best thing since sliced bread.”
You tilt the hat on your head a little so you can see under the brim, as he hands you an envelope this time, “These are from me.”
You open the envelope and pull out a postcard with a from New Orleans. You turn the card over, Joel’s handwriting scrawled on the back.
“Pack a bag baby, and let me take you away.”
“Are you for real?!” You exclaim, “You’re going to take me to New Orleans?!”
“Course I am, darlin’ girl,” He grins, “I know you’ve always wanted to go, and we’ve never been away together.”
“Are you even real?” You ask, wiping your tears away, because you’re overwhelmed, no-one has ever been so thoughtful.
“Last time I checked I was,” He chuckles, taking the postcard from your hands, replacing it with the last gift, a small box, “Go on, last one.”
You take it from his hand, tearing the paper off it to reveal a small box. You open it, and sat inside is a silver necklace, a silver hoop, entwined with a smaller hoop. You’d recognise this anywhere. You’d spotted it in the window of the jewellery shop downtown. You’d spend so long looking at it in the window before deciding you couldn’t afford it, yet here it is, in your hands.
“Joel,” You breathe, running your fingers over the delicate silver, “This is too much.”
He presses a single finger to your lips to shut you up, holding his hand out for the box, taking the necklace out as he pushes himself up onto the couch, putting the delicate chain across your neck, “Do you like it?” He asks from behind you, mouth right at your ear, breath hot on your skin.
You turn around, wrapping your arms around his neck, feeling your hat fall off your head as he returns the embrace, “I love it Joel,” You murmur into the skin of his neck, “I love you.”
“I love you too, darlin’ girl.”
You spend the rest of the evening curled up on the couch together. You eat the slices of cake that Sandra had sent you home with, drink more beer, Joel even sits with his guitar outside, playing some of your favourite songs whilst you smoke a cigarette. When the sun has fully set and you’ve let out a particularly loud yawn, Joel closes up the house, takes hold of your hand, and takes you to bed.
You’re led against the sheets, getting yourself comfortable, when Joel comes back from the bathroom, leaning against the door with his thumb resting on his belt. He’s lookin at you with those deep, coffee-coloured orbs as you turn onto your side, propping your head up on your palm to look at him.
“How do you want it, baby?” He smirks, taking slow steps towards the bed.
You take your bottom lip between your teeth, because that is a very good question. Do you want him to be soft and slow like he had been that first time? So concerned he was going to hurt you with his size and strength that he refused to go any harder or faster than was strictly necessary? Or the time he made love to you after you’d looked after Sarah when he had to work late. When he’d walked into his house and found you painting her nails for her, watching a film that he’d never had sat through, his heart bursting with so much love that he had to push it all into you, whispering promises into your ear as he did so. No, you think, that’s not what you want right now.
“I want you to fuck me, cowboy,” You rasp, “Hard.”
He’s stood at the foot of the bed now, eyes dark with lust, “Well, what the birthday girl wants,” He murmurs softly, wide, warm palm clasping around your ankle, “The birthday girl gets.”
He tugs at your ankle, pulling you down the bed in one swoop, your legs dangling over the edge as his fingers work the button of your work trousers loose. You lift your hips up so he can drag them, and your underwear off your body, before he tugs you into a sitting position to work your blouse over your head. Your palms cup his face as you kiss him, your lips giving attention to his plush bottom lip as his hands reach behind you and work the clasp of your bra undone, dragging that off your body so you’re finally bared naked to him.
He pulls back, trails his eyes over your naked body, before placing his hand on your chest, right between your breasts, pushing you back down onto the bed. He trails his hands down the expanse of your sides, coming to the meat of your thighs as he settles his face between them. Normally this is where he’d tease you, use that mouth to trail soft kisses up and down the inside of your thighs, stopping to nip at the soft skin every once in a while, but he surprises you tonight.
Joel uses the flat of his tongue to lick a single stripe up the seam of your pussy. Then, he takes his hands, puts them on the backs of your thighs to push your legs back towards you, spreading them open further, baring the entirety of your spread, aching cunt to his face, before that tongue of his is diving into you, licking the slick that has been slowly gathering there from you, groaning at your taste. He drags his tongue up to your clit, using the tip of it to lightly flick at your clit, which has a quiet whimper leaving your lips as you tangle your fingers in his soft curls to keep his head anchored right where it is.
You’ve never really known a man quite as enthusiastic about eating your pussy as Joel Miller. The way he groans into your cunt as he laps at you, the way his fingers dig bruises into your skin as he holds your legs open for him, it all adds to the way he has your teetering on the edge of your first orgasm of the night in minutes. You’re bucking your hips into his face, chasing that burst of pleasure you know is so close to you.
You can hear the obscene sounds from him, the way he sucks your clit into his mouth, rolls his tongue over it before letting it go with a pop, or the way he literally slurps the slick from your entrance. It’s when he slips two of his fingers inside your slick cunt that you’re really done for – fingers stretching you open, a poor substitute for what’s to come, but it’s good none-the-less.
All of a sudden, that fiery burst of pleasure is setting your skin alight. Your body is arching off the bed, pushing your cunt further into Joel’s face as he sucks your clit through your orgasm. You can feel yourself clenching around his fingers as you let out as high-pitched shriek of his name as your body wracks with pleasurable aftershocks. You lie there, warm and pliant as Joel stands once he’s worked you through your orgasm. He takes off his shirt, and you marvel at that body, the one you get to enjoy, broad and strong for his work, but soft around the middle, just like you love. He’s looking you directly in the eye as he undoes the button on his jeans, belt from earlier seemingly lost in the bathroom before. You’re smirking as he drags his jeans and boxers down his legs, stepping out of them, stood before you in all his God damn glory.
He is, quite possibly, the most handsome man you’ve ever seen. Especially when he’s got his cock gripped in his fist, pumping himself as you spread your legs for him, pushing yourself up the bed so he can settle between your thighs.
You can feel the throbbing length of him slipping between your soaked folds as he finds a position, he’s comfortable with. You’re the one that reaches down between you and lines his cock up with your aching core, but it’s all Joel when he thrusts himself inside you, right to the hilt, in one go. He’s leaning forward, head rested in the crook of your neck, your name hissed out into your ear as he adjusts to the tight clench of your cunt. Your nails are already digging into the meat of his biceps when he drags himself out of you, before slamming back in.
He revels in the way his rough thrusts make your tits bounce, dipping his head to take one of your nipples into his mouth, gently nipping at the puckered bud with his teeth before soothing it with the pad of his tongue. He laves the same attention to the other, never once letting up the pace of his hips.
“This what you wanted, darlin’ girl?” He chokes out, looking down at you writhing in pleasure beneath him.
“More.” You gasp, hand reaching to grab at his wrist which is planted by the side of your head, propping him up.
He puts most of his weight on his other hand, letting you drag his other palm to the delicate column of your throat, where the sheer size of his hand covers it in its entirety. He rests it there for a moment, continuing to pound his cock into your pussy, but then he’s adding pressure to the side of your throat, giving you that delicious dizzy feeling to your brain, before he’s releasing the pressure. You’re grinning up at him, moaning his name as his hips continue to slam into your own.
“Like that, don’t ya?” He asks, “God you look so fuckin’ good with my hand around your throat, pretty girl.”
“Always fuck me so good, Joel,” You cry out when he shifts his position slightly, cock brushing that sweet spot inside you, “Do it again.”
So he does, he squeezes his fingers around your throat again, your mouth dropping open as a crazed giggle leaves your mouth. You wish you could step outside your body right now and watch, watch what the two of you look like – his hand around your throat, the way he’s pounding into you so hard you’re sure you’ll be sore in the morning.
You’re both breathing heavily as he trails the hand that was around your throat to grip at your jaw. He squishes your cheeks together, pursing your lips as his mouth claims your own, growling into you as his tongue licks at yours. He’s so fucking overwhelming right now, thick cock splitting you in two, strong body laid across your own, mouth on yours, and it’s still not enough. You want to peel his skin off and climb inside him, let him consume you whole.
Joel pulls back, hand still on your jaw.
“You my pretty girl, huh?” He asks, and you can only nod, his hand stopping you from talking, “Belong to me, right?”
His hand goes back down to grip your throat, gently though, with no pressure, so you can talk to him now.
“All yours Joel,” You purr at him, “Only ever gonna be yours.”
“Open your mouth,” He demands, using his hand to gently shake you, so you do, “Stick your tongue out.”
You do just that, staring straight into his eyes as he leans down, ever so slightly, and spits into your mouth. It’s warm, wet and utterly filthy, and you think it’s the entire reason that you can feel your slick dripping down onto his sheets now. Joel doesn’t even give you the time to swallow, chasing the saliva he’s just put into your mouth with his tongue, giving you the sloppiest kiss you’ve ever received.
“Fuck,” He spits out, pulling back from your mouth, “Ain’t gonna last much longer, darlin’ girl,” He confesses, those rough thrusts slowing ever so slightly, “Put your hand on your clit for me, let’s do this one together.”
Your hand slinks between your bodies, seeking out that sensitive bud, still reeling from the orgasm he pulled from you, it doesn’t take much work from your fingers to have you teetering on the edge, but you want to do this together, you have to hold on for him.
“Where d’ya want it?” Joel chokes out as your pussy flutters around him.
“Inside,” Comes your begging plea to him, “Come inside me, Joel.”
Your work your fingers across your clit a few more times before you’re coming around his cock, the nails of your free hand digging half-moon shapes into the meat of his shoulder. He manages three, maybe four more thrusts before he’s stilling inside of you, grunting out your name as the white-hot spurt of his spend fills your aching cunt. He fills you up so perfectly, holding himself there for a moment before he lets out a slightly pained sound, pulling himself out of your pussy.
He sits back on his knees, watching the white trickle of him cum seep from your spent hole. He takes one of his fingers, scooping his cum on it before bringing it to your lips, where you suck it into your mouth, running your tongue over it to catch every bit of the taste of him. He falls forward, forehead pressed to your own, kissing your lips softly, before he moves to lie on his side of the bed.
You push yourself up into a sitting position, leaning over to kiss him softly, mumbling that you’ll be back in a minute as you pad to the bathroom to clean up. When you come back to his room, he’s already under the covers, your side pushed back and waiting for you, so you clamber in, seeking out his torso under the covers so you can wrap your arm around him. He pulls you flush to his body, slick and warm from sweat, but you don’t care.
His arm is draped across your shoulder, his fingers tracing slow and soft across your skin, as he presses a kiss to the crown of your head.
“Happy birthday, darlin’ girl.” He whispers to you as he turns out the light.
“Best birthday ever,” You mumble softly against his chest as you let your heavy eyes closed, “All because of you, cowboy.”
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Hi precious🫶🏻
Love your story’s btw💕
I would like to request a scenario where someone is bad mouthing reader (out of jealousy or smt else u decide). While Miguel is hearing EVERYTHING, that is said abt his wifey. Whatever happens next is up to you darling.🫶🏻
Don’t feel pushed to write abt something u don’t feel comfortable with💕
OH MY GOD, SURE THINGGGGGG and THANK YOU SO MUCH ??? I HOPE YOU LOVE THIS TOO !!
not another word. — miguel o'hara x wife!fem!reader
his back muscles tensed up and his nostrils flared as he huffed and puffed, his eyebrows knitting together in a furious look that tried his damn hardest to remain calm. he could not, for the words he was hearing from the so-called 'friendly colleagues' you invited to have dinner at your place were laughing and muttering to themselves under their breaths how naïve you appeared–how you looked so young and stupid, that they were shocked that an 'pretty little airhead' like you became their 'respected' colleague.
"she's got a pretty face, sure, but have you seen how much of a kltuzy butterfingered little thing she is?"
"right? watch out for her, she might woo your husband away from you with that insipid little grin of hers that just makes me want to..."
"she's so annoying, she always keeps offering me her shitty treats that nobody wants–i'm surprised she even has a husband, no one in the right mind would put up with her."
your colleagues laughed amongst themselves as they kept insulting you and calling you names behind your back; you left the living room to get them some of the goodies you baked for them that you took so long trying to figure out how to make them and actually baking them up. you were anxious this whole time if they'd like it or not, but little did you know they were already dreading to taste what you made, not caring how much effort and thought you put into making these treats–and that angered miguel, very, very much.
he tried to calm himself down and remind himself that this was your gathering, he was just going to mind his own business and let you be happy. but he can't be happy if he knows that your colleagues right there that feigned a welcoming aura and a friendly demeanor towards you didn't like you, and all for the stupidest, worst reasons he had ever heard come out of another person's mouth. miguel had enough, he was going to teach them just what happens when they insult his darling little wife one more time.
"then i guess i'm not in my right mind for wanting to stay with her," miguel said in a low, intimidating voice that made all your colleagues tense up in their seats and turn their heads to look at your husband with pursed lips. miguel looked down at them with an angry glare, with hints of a furious red in his pupils. he looked everyone down one by one and noticed they were all frightened of him–good. "but i don't really care if i'm 'not in my right mind' for loving the most perfect woman in the world, i'm not in my right mind–i'm living the best life i can and that's with her." he said as his voice softened at that latter part, thinking fondly of you amidst his anger towards these horrible colleagues who dare take your kindness and generosity for granted.
miguel sighed and furrowed his eyebrows again. "i don't give a damn about who any of you people are, how much you make, or what my wife thinks of you all–which, believe me, is a far kinder judgement than anyone would have of such mundane, cynical people–i will break every bone in your bodies and make you all beg for forgiveness and grovel at my wife's feet if i hear another lick on an insult get spewed out by those disgusting mouths of yours."
miguel spoke that threat with a low growl in his voice, he was becoming a little more feral, which he promised to you he'd keep under control, but he couldn't in this situation–he couldn't stand idly by and let you be insulted by these morons; he can't help his emotions sometimes, but believe him when he says he's tried his damn hardest to hold back on getting even angrier on these colleagues of yours that couldn't even acknowledge you were a sincerely kind soul that just wanted to make others happy.
you soon emerged from the kitchen with a gleeful smile, carrying the delicious treats you made for your ungrateful colleagues. the moment you saw them, they all looked spooked; as if they witnessed dracula or somebody just say he was going to suck the blood out of them all and turn them into human prunes. you chuckled nervously, asking them what was wrong, with miguel standing up from his seat–giving your colleagues a glare of warning–and kissing you sweetly on the lips in surprise and muttering in soft voice, "nothing's wrong, querida. oh, my favorites–i'll have to thank you with something else you like later, hmm?" he offered as he wrapped his arm around your waist, making you all flustered and shy as you tried to remind him you two had guests over. "we can always kick them out, nena, it's fine... let me hold you just a little longer." he whispered in your ear as your colleagues gulped and tried smiling up at you and praising your treats, about how good they look and smelled, how tasty they must be–making you smile wider at the sudden compliments you were getting.
tags !! @miguelswifey04 @hearts4gabri @hisachuu @wreakingmarveloushavok @fictarian @yuridopted0 @simsrandomstuff @luvstarrstruck @popeheywardssecretgf @meeom @arachnoia @melovetitties @fable-library @ophanimgold @smokeywhalee @capnshtfce
despite the happiness you thought you were bringing your colleagues, miguel desperately wanted you to know that you don't need to make others happy... you've already make him happy since day one and he's been happier and happier with you ever since that day.
#miguel o'hara#miguel o'hara x reader#miguel o'hara x y/n#miguel o'hara fluff#miguel o'hara fanfiction#spiderman 2099#spiderman 2099 x reader#atsv#atsv miguel x reader#atsv x reader#atsv x you#atsv x y/n#spiderverse#across the spiderverse#spiderman across the spiderverse#spiderman across the spiderverse x reader#spiderman across the spiderverse fluff#spiderman across the spiderverse fanfiction
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How to Adopt Your Clone Pt. 1 (Adoption AU)
Elle loves flying. The way the wind whips around her, the weightlessness of it, how small everything looks so high up, and most of all how freeing it is.When she is up in the air she is free, safe, away from everything that hurts her and tries to drag her down into their control. Free, never being tied down and forced into a role she never wanted. Free, able to go from place to place, exploring a world that was kept from her. Free to be herself, to learn what she wants and who she is. Ellie truly loved flying and the freedom it offers down to her very core. She wouldn’t trade it for anything, much less anything that the Fruitloop offered.
She was just so lonely. She has traveled far and wide, exploring different cultures, meeting new people, and learning about the world that the oldest Halfa hid from her. That is how she learned he lied to her more than she thought. While somewhere like the horror stories he told her most were nothing like he said. The people she met and spoke to were as wide and diverse as the sea. Some were tall and strong, while others were small and sneaky. Some knew so much she didn’t know how they fit everything in their head, then some may have not known as much but were no less clever. Some remind her of the Creep and why she left, yet others remind her of her template, Danny.
It seemed like that no matter where she went she saw something that reminded her of the first person to accept her. An observatory telling her all about space and the stars he endlessly spoke about. A mechanic down on his luck. A kid in highschool that was stressed about finals.The kind old lady that gave her the last of her own food to her because she noticed she was hungry. Someone told a ridiculous pun that made everyone groan. Another that saved a cat from a tree. Even seeing someone with black hair with either blue or green eyes made her turn her head and do a double take.
The worst was when another hero saved the day. She never stayed for too long when that happened, it made her bitter. Bitter to hear of a hero that claimed that they could hear a cry for help from across the world but never bothered to save her. Where was he when she and her siblings were being abused by a madman? When her sibling kept dying, only to be replaced by another as if they were objects? When she was being manipulated into betraying one of the only people that was treated with kindness?
In the end it was her own template that was the one to save her, not some boy scout who thought it was a good idea to wear his underwear over his other clothes. Her own template who had every reason to hate her after everything that had happened but instead looked her in the eye and said she was family. Who offered to risk his own freedom, his own safety, for the one-in-the-million chance his parents would accept and she would have a safe place to stay. Who saw her as her own person, even helping her come up with a new name after she offhandedly mentioned that she hated the one Knock-off Vampire gave her. Who made a grave for his siblings and worked to give each of them names after she chose her own. Who saw each and everyone as their own person, not just a failed copy that Cliche Money Bags saw us as. Who mourned them, who grieved the lives that they never got to experience, that he was too late to save them.
Danny was a hero, much more than the League of Idiots who can’t even see what is right in front of them. She doubts that they would treat her or her siblings even half as well as Danny, much less if they were clones of them.
#danny phantom#dcu#dcxdp#dp + dc#dp x dc crossover#danny fenton#ghost king danny#danni phantom#ellie phantom#danielle “danni” phantom is called ellie#adoption au#vlad plasmius#justice league#superman#Vlad Masters#clones
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Neil Lewis is definitely that weird guy in high school that thinks he has a chance with the cheerleader captain. Request is noncon with Neil maybe following her into the locker rooms after practice and while she’s showering-yeah. She stayed behind to shower while everyone else went home.
OMG INCEL NICE GUY NEILLLLL OMFGGGG
warnings: NONCON SMUT (18+ only!! dark!!), misogyny kink, stalking/voyeurism, 'nice guy' rhetoric, degradation, jealousy, slapping, hair pulling, forced creampie
"I just wanted one chance," he reminded you as you tried to cover yourself with your hands.
"How the fuck did you get in here?!" you yelped, quickly turning off the water and trying to reach for your towel-- but he stepped in the way, smiling at you.
"It's just a door, anyone can walk through it," he explained with a condescending chuckle, before furrowing his brow at how you tried to shield your naked body from his gaze. "No real point in doing that, is there? I've already seen everything."
"How long were you watching me shower?" you wondered with a disgusted frown.
"A while, but that's not what I meant-- it's not the first time I've seen you naked, I mean," he clarified. When your eyes widened, he answered your next question pre-emptively. "Stacy Gawthrop's party? The guest bedroom? I saw you and your idiot boyfriend getting it on, got a little show... you guys really should lock the door before doing stuff like that."
"You weren't even invited to that party," you remembered with a scoff.
"That's what you're concerned about? I told you I watched you get railed and you're worried that I wasn't invited?" he laughed coldly. "God, you're so shallow. I can't believe I actually like a girl like you."
"Can you please just leave me alone?" you whimpered, heart racing faster as he stepped closer to you again, cornering you against the tile wall; there was a devious sparkle in his eye, something sharp about his smile as he looked down at you.
"The point is, I watched him fuck you," he went on regardless, "and I knew I could make you scream louder than he could. And now I'm here to prove it."
He shoved you back as you winced, pressing himself against you, soaking his gym clothes with the water on your skin. "Get off me!" you yelped as he tried to force a kiss-- but when you turned your face away, he smacked you hard, which only hurt more with the water on you still.
As you tried to grab your face to soothe the sting, he snatched you by the wrist tightly with one hand-- the other he brought to your chest, groping you as he hummed proudly. "You really shouldn't show these off so much," he scolded. "Guys can't help but think of... well, of doing this."
He knelt down enough to catch one in his mouth, sucking almost too hard on your nipple until you whined. "N-Neil, stop!" you gasped, sobbing a bit when his teeth grazed your delicate skin.
"Sure, baby-- tell yourself you don't want this," he purred, before tilting his head the other way and lapping happily at the other. "I know you fucking wanted me-- you just can't admit it, 'cause a girl like you with a guy like me is 'social suicide' or whatever."
"I told you to j-just leave me alone!" you panted, trying to struggle again only for him to come face to face with you-- his expression tinted with the rage you remembered from the last time you rejected him. He refused to believe that you genuinely found him creepy and irritating, and apparently maintained his delusion that you were just afraid of what would happen if your boyfriend-- or anyone else, for that matter-- found out. Even though that wasn't the primary reason, you had to admit you were very anxious about somebody walking in and seeing this.
"If you don't want me," he challenged darkly as one of his hands slipped down to cup your mound rather aggressively, "then how come you're wet?"
He dragged his fingers through your folds, far too much pressure on such a sensitive place, and your knees quivered. "S-stop, Neil, I'm serious..."
"Shut up, whore," he growled, spinning you around and slamming you against the wall again as you cried. "Just do what you do best and spread your legs, hm?"
You obviously didn't, but he kicked them apart anyway, shoving his shorts down and making you whimper as he rubbed his cock against your ass. And while you were a bit wet, for reasons you couldn't explain, you certainly weren't wet enough... not for how thick he was. But he shoved himself in anyways-- one quick, hard thrust that made you cry out from the sting of the stretch.
"Ah, fuck, that's good-- it's so good," he moaned, dropping his head on your still-damp shoulder and starting to thrust into you quickly. He had no patience at all, jackhammering into you and holding tight to your hips as he groaned deeply. "Guess that stupid boyfriend didn't stretch you out much, huh? You're still so fucking tight, baby..."
You tried to hide your face under your arm, anything to get away from him, but he grabbed your hair by your scalp and yanked it down, exposing your face and making you cry louder. "Neil, please!" you begged through your tears.
"Oh, don't talk like that," he warned, "I don't wanna finish too fast. But fuck, you look so cute trying not to show how good it feels..."
Good isn't really how you would've described it... it wasn't just painful, but it hurt-- he was too big, you weren't used to it yet, and he just seemed to go faster and faster with each passing moment. But there was a sick pleasure to it all, something about the way he reached so deep inside you... he was at least right about one thing: your boyfriend had never made you feel like this before. You weren't sure if you'd ever be able to face him after this, for more than a few reasons.
"Baby," he praised, biting down on his own lip to muffle a moan, "quit squeezing me like that, you're gonna make me come."
"D-don't," you tried to plead, as if it wasn't inevitable. Just the way he kept going, grabbing a tighter hold of your hips, moaning lowly against your ear... it was not only inevitable but imminent.
"I'm close," he warned under his breath, "fuck, look what you do to me--"
"Not inside, Neil, please," you choked, but he ignored it, moving faster and moaning louder until it all slowed down to a stop, his cock flexing with every stripe of come that painted your insides. You hung your head defeatedly, feeling sick to your stomach as the reality of what just happened began to sink in.
"Shit," he hissed, "I didn't think I'd come that fast..."
"Fuck, Neil, I-- I could get--" you started, too scared to even say it.
"Aw, don't worry baby," he cooed, kissing your cheek sweetly just before another tear fell across it, "I'll be able to go again in a second."
#dark!neil lewis x reader#neil lewis dark fic#cillian murphy dark fic#dark!cillian murphy x reader#neil lewis smut
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Let’s burn the world down together | Namor X NonHuman!Reader
Namor the Submariner x nonhuman!Reader
Context : Talokan and Wakanda are on the edge of waging a war on. They are not the only hidden realms ( before Wakanda reveals itself to the world). Your realm has been hidden as well, scattered across the world. Centuries ago, the most powerful nations decimated your kind, only for you and your people to hide underground. Your people grew tired of hiding, angry for revenge. Maybe, the sake of the princess will gladly lead you to join the war. Will your hunger for revenge be stronger than one of the most powerful forces this world has borne ?
Counts : 5 444 words
Warning : Black Panther 2 spoilers, self-hatred, overthinking, smut, soulmates, english isn’t my mother tongue, so there must have some syntaxes or spelling mistakes i apologize for it,,
Your people are quite some sort of spies. You were always hiding from the surface world as you called them. They took you everything : your lands, your home, your trees, your ressources, your everything. For centuries you have lived underground waiting for the moment you will reveal yourself again. For centuries, the surface world has believed your people were only legends but now with all these superheroes crossing the whole world and coming from the universe, things dramatically changed. Your time has come.
Night visions to see through your realm galleries and pointed ears to hear far away. Your people might be one of the fiercest Mother Nature has borne. You were nightmares on your own. Dangerous fighters you were. You were fearsome of your own. Pretty lullabies about your kind when you could kill for fun, only to see the humans suffer as you have suffered for centuries.
Your people’s name has been rumored all over the world in fantasy books. But one must know you were real. This is mostly one of the reasons she came to you. You thought you had been careful when you came to the surface world but unfortunately for you, she had found you too easily for your people’s sake. You only can be mad at yourself for that terrible mistake. You should be more precocious. You have always known that. Your head advisor would remind you that everyone knew this kind of mistake would have happened and you’d have just rolled your piercing eyes again and again. You had heard those words too much for your own good. You were reckless and couldn’t care less. No one could stop you when you had a goal to score. This thought mostly made you smirking.
Your new goal was to discover more lands than you had done in the last five centuries. This is why you were on that aircraft. This thing from hell made you quite sick. Well, this was your first time and your pride self couldn’t allow anyone to notice it. To be honest, your friends knew what was going on and you could see her face being crossed by that mocking smile. They were holding their laughs. You were about to break the bench as your hands held it too strongly for its own good. Your eyes were sending gentle dead threats to your friends. You hated that fucking plane.
“ We have arrived, Princess. “
You hear the pilot talking to one of your friends. Shuri seemed relieved to finally land on her motherland soil. Your eyes were shocked by the magnificentness of the place. Stars crossing your sage green eyes. This was way beyond what you could ever have imagined. It is far away from the old and dirty galleries you lived in. You knew some of this world's inventions when you walked incognito on the surface world. You had already come into these places they called libraries. You read books about everything that could be useful for your people to know. It was mostly about weapons, technologies and wars. This is what your people live now. Even if you were hiding for centuries, waiting for your time to come. You had never been at peace since that day. You may have barely known your former realm but from what the elders say it was beyond everything the world has seen. Golden trees, magic in its purest form living through every being, harmony and peace all over your realm until the humans’ population grew too much. They were your enemies the moment they crossed your realm’s borders. War destroyed everything as it has happened in Wakanda.
Shuri had explained to you the whole situation with that Namor guy. You were on her side as she came to reach you first. To be true to yourself, you understood Namor’s point of view about the surface world. No doubt you would burn the world down too. Will you let someone else take your biggest dream or will you join him ? No one knows. You wanted to know what she wants from you. It is certain she didn’t know everything about you and your people. The curse people. From magnificent elves to dark elves you fall deep down into obscurity. Literally and figuratively. It was funny to you to see the pure princess coming for darkness to invade her darkening heart. You knew you were drawn to her. You knew you could do something incredible with her. You had waited too long to use the entirety of your power.
“ We don’t have enough time. Riri, this is [ Y/N ]. The one I told you about. “
Shuri introduced you to a younger black woman. Your head moved to greet her. No word leaving your mouth. You had never been a great talker.
“ So she’s the one they want ? “
You asked, finally breaking your own silence. Riri seems to be happy that you know about her work. To be true, you had heard about her machine being able to find vibranium. As awful as it could sound, you were glad that the surface world had all their eyes focused on vibranium rather than one of your people’s precious metals. Galleries are maybe a good opportunity to lose your enemies and to hide but the moment they will surround your realm, you will be dead. Your people may be one of the fiercest fighters, you could not win over enemies that know all of your hidden doors. You would be doomed.
“ Apparently, yes I am “
The genius inventor said, embarrassed by the whole situation she pulled Wakanda in. She may have the best intentions in the world, she needs to be more careful. You scoffed at this thought that reminds you of someone you knew the most : yourself.
“ When are we going to fight ? “
You asked eager to cross your swords with Talokan’s weapons. You had heard they were one of the most powerful weapons. The ones you couldn’t break. It would be lies to say you didn’t want to try them.
“ We are going to attack first. This way we will have the advantage. We will be in the middle of the ocean. He would not touch Wakanda again. “
Shuri spoke like the true queen she was. She had taken the throne days ago after Namor killed her mother. It wasn’t her who told you this but one of her spies. Nakia if you remembered her name well and your memory was really good. You could remember almost everything from your long life. This was your salvation but mostly your curse.
As said, everyone gathered to go to this war. Each soldier from each tribe walks to the battleship. And now, set sail. May the show begin.
*****
While the fight was occurring on the ship, you helped Shuri to capture the Feathered Serpent God. She didn’t need any help at that point. Her hatred for the man who had killed her mother took control over her body. The winged man was trying to destroy the aircraft he was imprisoned in. She made him mad as hell. So did he. Another smile crossed your face as you watched the two of them. Maybe you just should stay to watch them fighting. It was a delicious spectacle to watch.
What you couldn’t say was that your eyes were only watching the submariner man. He had piqued your curiosity. Something in you wanted to know much more about him. He must have feel the weight of your eyesight on him as he was now watching you. His eyes were full of anger but you seemed to have caught him off guard. A smirk on your face, you were enjoying this.
As things went worse on the ship and mostly because you did nothing useful on the aircraft, Shuri asked you to go back on the said ship. Her voice was full of anger. Your darkness enjoyed it a bit too much. You said nothing but agreed and went there. You didn’t like what was going on but you couldn’t say anything. Your powers only grew stronger each time you were close to all of these people who let their hatred and rage took over their bodies. War has always been something you fed from. It was your little secret.
As you land on the infamous ship, the aircraft flies to the closest continent. Talokan fought really hard. So does Wakanda. You wish your people could be part of it. Things would have been way too easy.
Soon enough, the fight was over. Namor submitted it to Shuri. Talokan lost. Wakanda wins. Both returning to their lands, healing their soldiers and rebuilding their towns. Celebrating for some, plotting for the others. You were quite frustrated. You thought Shuri would fall deeper into darkness but her will and morality were too strong for you to win. Maybe it was better this way than the other. You have to be realistic. If it wasn’t her, then you would find someone else. You already knew who this person would be.
After some goodbyes to your new friends, wishing them the best, you left Wakanda for another secret place. Only if they knew, they wouldn’t be so happy and eager to meet you again. You could feel Okoye’s suspicious look on your back. The one you had felt during your journey with them.
*****
You follow Nakia’s indications about the cave’s location. You had overheard her when she was explaining to Okoye where she found the princess, now queen of Wakanda. Due to this, you were now at the edge of a very small village on the Yucatan peninsula between the forest and the sea. In no time, you had found the infamous cave. You weren’t a quite good swimmer. You
“ The Moon will always respond to the Ocean’s call. You know this more than anyone else. ”
You said to the Ocean King, in your dark military outfits while he was in his golden ornaments robe. Only the moonlight that crossed the cave’s walls was reflecting through your elvish gold sword. She never left you on any occasion. She was the last thing you had from your past civilization.
“ You were on Wakanda's side. And now you are here before me, trying to get an alliance. “
The mutant responded, with wrath controlling his voice tone. His jaw was tense. You were quite amused by this even if you really deserved it. Your eyes couldn’t leave the man’s face. There was something mesmerizing about him. Something appealing. Something you couldn’t resist.
“ Maybe if you had come first, I'd be by your side now. “
You confessed nonchalantly. You had always been attracted by the most interesting offers people can propose to you. Your allies' choices were never fixed exceptionally in this kind of situation where both reasons were to listen and discuss. Listening to people’s darkness made you choose your camp. His politics were relatable to you. You could do the same things for your own people.
“ What do you want from my people ? You came here without us inviting you. “
“ I mean have overheard your location, sorry not sorry. You already hated the surface people too much. So do I. “
You cut him off. A playful smirk was seen above your face making his face tensing up. You could see a tint of curiosity crossing his eyes. He was suspicious about you and he must be.
The meeting was quite interesting. You had the chance to learn more about his people. He explained this to you as a sort of a warning. He wanted to be sure you knew where you had fallen as he had done it with Shuri weeks ago. He wanted you to know how powerful he was. You had seen him and his people fighting against Wakanda forces. You know what they are made of. You knew how great warriors they were and you showed him how you respect his people. More you listened to him, the more you grew curious about the king and his realm. As a mark of mutual trust - as little it was - you told him about your people and what you’ve been through. Both of you understood quickly how similar you were at some points.
You didn’t know how long your conversation lasted but it felt like none of you wanted it to end. He had offered you to visit his realm and to lend you a submarine suit they had stolen from that american team who started this whole war between the two vibranium possessor nations. With a little laugh, you had shown him how useful your control over darkness could be used to. You had seen the mesmerizing look in his eyes. Something had shifted. Something was wrong. You couldn’t find any word to put on. You were attracted to this man. It was too much to bear it alone. Your shoulders would break faster than those last centuries have tried to. You could feel his body heat crossing yours as he was so close to you. Chest against chest. Your hands on his muscular chest. His hands holding your hips. His lips brushing against your. You deeply wanted him to press them against yours and you wanted to slap yourself for this thought. You wouldn't think about anything else as his dark piercing eyes were locked into yours. He wasn’t going better than you. Both tensed and attracted to each other. You were rising something that was buried deep inside him, in a place he thought unable to unlock. Not like he wanted to.
Finally, his lips took possession of yours. Both dancing with roughness and an unknown passion. Both fighting for dominance. Both being made for each other. You didn’t want this to end, nor will he. His hands were desperately all over your body. Your fingers were pulling his black hair. Pleasure was running through your veins. You couldn’t fight against and you didn’t want to. You were too needy for him so he was for you. You wanted him to take away this unpleasant feeling while your body was burning. Heatwaves broke on your inner core. You needed him to do something. You could feel his neediness against your lower abdomen. Soon, the black leather corset above your jetblack long sleeve shirt and the latest will leave you too quickly for your taste. His gold ornament robe left his body too quickly for his own taste. Both of you were already panting without knowing why.
As things were becoming hotter every second that passed, you finally used your powers to be sure no one would interrupt or hear you. Like Wanda’s hex, your own barrier made with darkness will isolate the both of you from his realm. A devilish smile on his face, he seems to approve.
Soon enough, his lips were all over your body. They were giving hot kisses on your neck and your shoulders. Love bites against your hot skin. You were moaning softly his name. It wasn’t enough for him. He needed more. Still kissing your neck and playing with your hardening nipples, he led you to his bed. You let yourself fall on it when your knees tripped over the mattress. In your fall, you took him with you. He was above your whole body. You love this feeling a bit too much. Your legs encircled his waist, making your lower self thrusting against his hardening self. You snatched a deep moan from him. His eyes full of lust met yours once again. Oh yes, you will burn the world down for him.
“ Please do something …”
You needily whispered to his ears making him shivered. Without wasting more time, he took off your training pants and boots, throwing them somewhere else in the little room. Both of you couldn’t care less at this very moment.
“ Anything my queen wants. “
He said using his deep voice, full of lust and neediness. As said, he continued his kissing trails down to your inner core. You started being a moaning mess and he hasn’t touched you yet. A powerful shiver stroke your body at the thought of him doing whatever he wants with his sinful mouth. His tongue against your sensitive core was one of the most skillful things you have ever met. You couldn’t think but only moaning his name again and again. Your eyes were closed and tense. He could enjoy the show as he lifted his own eyes to watch over you. His tongue was still eating you out. His fingers were playing with your burning inside. Oh yeah, he was proud of the effects he was creating in you. Soon or later, he will be too addicted to it. It will be fatal for him as it will for you. He must protect you.
As he felt your orgasm coming, he decided to stop everything, making you moaning in complain. He laughed at your reaction. You will soon be served what you want. He couldn’t wait to bury his hardening self deep inside your burning core. His body was all above yours. His hands were from both sides of your head as he placed himself between your shaking legs.
A part of you was surprised to see how gentle and careful he was with you, as if he could break you in one move. He was reckless, eager for revenge. He could put the whole world in fire and ashes. He could kill without hesitation just to be sure his people were out of danger. You were just like him. Maybe this was what drew you to him and him to you.
Your drowning thoughts were cut as he entered your inner core. A concerned look was on his face as you came back to your body, moaning. His own moaning joining yours. He let you adjust to his size and when it was done, his rough thrusts started. They threw you to the stars in a few seconds. Your nails were dug into his muscular back. His hand next to your head held him still above you while the other one was running one your body before meeting your burning nerves ball. You were a moaning mess.
Pleasure in its purest and strongest form. None of you lasted so long. Soon enough, both of you reached your powerful orgasms, him filling you deep inside. Your body will be full of bruises and love bites as his body will be full of scratches.
Now, both of you were panting next to each other, a happy and relieved smile on both your faces as your eyes were locked into his. You were over the edge from what he gifted you. You were over the edge to be the unique person able to see this side of him. He was over the edge to be the unique person able to see this side of you.
Now, he had to go back to his duties and so do you. His cold and cruel attitude was back on his face. The God ruler of Talokan gave you a last kiss on your forehead before dressing himself again and leaving to accomplish his royal duties. The barrier you created formerly was lifted. Darkness coming back to your body and to wherever you stole them. It could be from people, places, animals or vegetables. You didn’t care. You only needed them to be powerful. You laid there a quite long time, your mind playing with you again.
******
After your encounter with Namor, you came back to your realm. You didn’t want to leave at first. You knew he didn’t want to. His eyes spoke for him as he let you go back to the cave’s waters. A goodbye kiss was the only thing you could give him. His hands were holding your cheeks. His thumbs sweetly cherished your skin. He was too sweet to be real. You were drowning into the sadness of his eyes. Something inside you was breaking. You didn’t know what but could only imagine what.
You would do anything to meet him again. It was really strange for you who had never listened to your heart’s whispers. They were too strong. He raised things you had never known possible and hidden deep inside your being. Two of the strongest rulers of the world are weak for each other. It was quite funny as you thought of it. If it was to be known by your enemies, they will use it against both of you. They will raise an inhuman rage that no one has ever known yet. You felt what Namor could do to this world. His darkness spoke to you, telling you his deepest and darkest desires. You wanted to do anything to make them come true.
One of his people talked to him in a tongue you didn’t know. His face changed when he saw the warriors and by the name he said, you knew it was Namora. You kinda like this woman. She was fierce and ruthless. Then, he told you it was time for you to leave. His voice was cold. He didn’t want you to leave nor did you do. Both had to act as nothing was going on.
As soon as you left the undersea cave that leads to his temple, you found a bus that was going to the closest airport to get a plane to go back to [ Your Continent ] undergrounds where your people are hiding. Sadly for you, your people weren’t located near the sea. Mountains have been the best place you could have found. When cities became too huge for you to stay underground, most of your kind moved to the countryside. Galleries were built throughout mountains.
The truth was that you tried to comeback home. He would never know. You were sure of that. Things went really wrong the very moment your feet landed on the airport soil as a surprise was waiting for you there. Something you had thought about. The Americans were on your back. They were waiting for you. How could you be surprised when they had almost all the superheroes under control at some point. You didn’t fight when they arrested you. There is always something else at the back of your mind. Your actions were always too calculated for your own good. Evil must always be prepared. Let them believe they got you. Your people's hatred will only be bigger as days pass with you being imprisoned at the Raft. A prison on the sea when Darkness is the Ocean’s most beloved person.
As much as you wish to hope, you couldn’t count on someone you had barely met. You were too old to trust people based on the first impression they gave you. Whatever happens between the both of you, you couldn’t. A part of you wishes too. Maybe you should have kept that seashell. You hated yourself for not stealing it. Now, you will stay there for how long the Old Gods know. Your wicked game will cost you everything. You will have all your time to think about a revenge plan. When you won’t be hating yourself for your stupidity and your humans’ worlds ignorance. You were sure : you hated them more than anything else. The surface world must be burned down.
******
You were locked for four months into that damn glass cell on that damn Raft. You were alone there. An army of skillful soldiers were guarding you. An army of the Earth enemies were backing you. Oh you could use their inner darkness to break free from this ugly place. Only if they hadn’t some sort of bracelet blocking your powers. The moment they put them on your wrist, you felt empty. An emptiness that could break the whole universe. Hatred filled your arching heart.
There was something else that made you unable to attack. A little gift Namor has granted you before leaving. You had been feeling sick a few days after you arrived there. You knew at that very moment. Something had changed deep inside you. From this moment, you were much more on your guard. You needed to be sure no one knows but the scientists there were on the lookout for every change. You knew they were testing whatever they created in that laboratory on the prisoners. You prayed everyday they wouldn’t come for you. You could lose that little gift. You needed to escape. You needed to go back to Namor. It wasn’t time to panic. Your hormones were making a mess of your emotions and you already hated it.
You were laying on your back on your miserable bed. Your hands were resting on your red shirt with its white sleeves. You were zoning out. You were sent deep inside your thoughts. You were your own darkness prisoner. Once again. Eyes looking at the gray and white ceiling until the Raft’s sirens were ringing throughout the prison. It seemed there was an attack here, you thought. You had no energy to move. Your curiosity couldn’t make you move. Screams were heard all over the prison. Laughs were heard too. You knew from who they were - the other prisoners. They seemed to enjoy the attack too much. A part of you wanted to know what was going on and especially who was attacking the most famous impenetrable prison. A part of you was hoping Namor would come to save you but how could he know ? Finding this prison on the sea was the easiest part of the game for the ocean’s ruler. His people had barely escorted you to the surface when you had left the cave. They were all over the ocean, maybe some had seen something. Maybe you had too much hope. You had barely created an alliance with the Feathered Serpent God.
As screams became louder and louder, you knew they were close to your cell. You couldn’t know how close exactly they were and now you were afraid they would come for your child. Your protective hands were holding your belly that was barely showing. You finally decided to move from your bed and stand up. Your cell was bigger than anyone in a real prison could see. You had to walk for almost three meters to reach the translucent glass that nothing could break.
One of your hands left your belly to hold you against the glass. You tried your best to stretch out yourself to see what was going on. Lights were shut down. Only the red one was going on and off. Bodies were scattered across the corridor. You flinched and gasped when something hit your cell’s glass. Then a face you hadn’t seen in months was presented to you. Rage could be seen on that face before they could see how shocked your face was. A worried look was on that face. It didn’t stop the shock from crossing your body. You couldn’t feel such intense emotion. You were too scared that something could happen. Tears rushes down your face. You couldn’t control them. How could you at that very moment ?
Then, the tall man asked you to shift your place for a safer one - it wasn’t that easy due to the tiniest cell you were in - and he tried to break the glass with his superstrength. He was in a hurry. He has to save you from this place. He has to be quick. He won’t leave with you and both of you know this. As it didn’t work, he tried to break the
“ Tell me you are safe and sound. Please tell me this. “
His voice betrayed his cold and angered face. The only thing you could do was running your hands all over his cheeks. You need to feel him close to you. You needed to be sure he really was there. You needed to be sure it wasn’t a dream or one of your darkness’ games. Some weight was lifted from your shoulders. It wasn’t the time for this kind of sweet reunion. Time was urging you to leave as soon as you could. Backups would come soon. If it wasn’t one of these superheroes the surface world has. Even if usually you were curious to meet them, today there wasn’t any time for this.
“ [ Y / N ]... We must leave this place now. I’ll protect you. There’s no fear to have. Now come with me.. “
You didn’t respond but followed him as he took your hand into his wet and rough hand. You tried to follow his footsteps but with your condition - he still didn’t know about - and your powers stolen from you, you couldn’t be as quick as he was. Your stamina - that traitor - had already left you to be hidden somewhere else.
You did your best. His people were fighting harder and harder against the Raft’s soldiers. When you reached the edge of the prison, he placed a respiratory mask on your face. You knew what would happen next. With a concerned look on his face, he asked you if you were ready to go. Deep inside him, he knew something had happened for you to react this way. You looked at your back and saw his people coming back to the waters. It was time for both of you to leave. They wouldn’t go before their king and his lover were safe in the ocean. So, without any hesitation, you gave a little pressure on his hand that hasn't left you. He took you into his arms and plunged into the cold water. You wish you had your powers to protect you from this intense coldness. You wouldn’t last long enough in the cold sea. Your eyesight started to see darkness before your eyes were shut down. Now, you were panting unconscious into Namor’s arms. You were too far away to hear his war threats to the surface world. He finally might have seen the powers blocker bracelets.
******
You remembered nothing. You didn’t know how long you had slept. It wasn’t a peaceful sleep. Nightmares have taken control over your sleep. Sometimes - when you were sleeping - you could feel a soft pressure on one of your hands. At some moment, you finally emerged from your sleep. Fear was the first thing that crossed your mind as your hands automatically held your belly. A chuckle was heard near you. You should have looked around in the first place.
“ You are safe. You're okay and so they are, my dear. “
As surprise came across your face, you turned to look at the voice. It was at that moment that you realized you were in Namor’s temple on the ground. The said man was sitting next to you, laying onto his own bed, in his golden ornaments and robe. He was shining something you had really seen but in the moonlight. This made you sighed in relief. It was finally over. Everything was over. You were safe. Both of you were.
“ I am glad both of you are safe. Attuma has checked on both of you. “
“ How did you know where I was ? “
“ I… “
For the first time, the submarine mutant was hesitating. This hesitation was quickly replaced by a small smirk as he ran a hand into his dry hair.
“ I have ears all over the whole coast. It took me time but I finally came to you. I was right to do so. I was right to listen to my instinct only. And here you are in full flesh. “
As the King was looking at you, he placed one of his hands on your belly. When his healer had told him about your condition, he was at the same time worried, happy and angered. His hatred for the surface world was behind comprehension. It was reinforced by what they had done to you. Soon you had learned that Namora, who was skeptical about your comeback among them at first, was willing to drown the world. You were caring for their king’s heir. A half-blood child. Looking at both your powers, they will rule the surface world one day. All of his people were sure of that as the rumors broke all over his realm.
“ Let’s burn the world down together when our child will be born “
Now you needed a way to bring your people there. You couldn’t stay too long from them. You couldn’t abandon them. Both your realm together,the more powerful you will be. The surface world wasn’t going to be ready. But for now, there are better things for you to think about like enjoy the rest of your pregnancy with your submarine king.
#namor x reader#mcu namor#namor the sub mariner#talocan#black panther#black panther wakanda forever#soulmates#nonhumanreader#readerwithpowers#tenoch huerta#smut#protective namor#namor the submarine x reader#black panther 2#wakanda forever
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false god
spencer reid x fem!bau!reader
summary: it's never a good idea to reminisce about a relationship, especially one that ended with betrayal left you with a permanent scar
word count: 1.2k
warnings: angst, no happy ending, major character injury, talks of general CM related violence and murder (nothing graphic), jeid you squint but its not endorsed lol
a/n: wrote this in an hour when i was feeling sad. its not proof read and i lowkey don't love it but whomp whomp
She always thought that the ground looked so far away just after take-off. Everyone below looked like specs of dirt that you had to really focus on to see. How insignificant everything looked compared to the vastness of the sky above. The illusion of importance shattered by the cover of clouds.
Pulling the blind down she sat back in her seat, headphones drowning out the noise in her head. The jet was silent, too focused in quiet contemplation of the reading material in front of them.
Her body instinctively leaned slightly to the left, seeking the comfort it once found in his embrace. But the illusion was shattered, and she knew that no matter how much she wanted to, she could no longer lean into the familiarity. She pushed her body towards the window, forcing her eyes out to the clouds.
Her thoughts, once filled with his presence, felt unmoored.
Now she could focus wholly on work. But the space that thoughts of him once filled was now left behind and filled with a silence that echoed through her. She was alone with the sky, the clouds, the vast expanse of the world below, and her thoughts.
His scent still lingered, he’d spent so long in the seat next to her that it must have melded with the fabric. A mix of pine and the cold winter morning air. She closed her eyes, a single tear escaping, sliding down her cheek. She was left with nothing but the ghost of his presence, a cruel reminder of what once was.
But now, the seat remained cold and empty. Even the scent of him, hugging her senses, used to be a source of comfort, was now a bitter reminder of the fallout between them. She hugged herself as if trying to fill the void as vast as the sky.
She forced herself to breathe, each inhale a sharp reminder of the love that was no longer hers. But it felt different now, hollow and cold as if the warmth he once provided had faded.
You see, Spencer Reid had broken her heart, and he’d done it easily.
Spencer Reid had chosen to protect someone else over her.
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The takedown was supposed to have been simple.
She turned her head slightly, the dust from the room seemed to have uprooted and created a cloud of mist. Morgan looked like he was running towards her. Why was he running towards her? Why was she on the ground? Why did everything feel so cold? It was the middle of July, she’d been warm in her Kevlar vest. Why were her fingers so so cold?
‘Agent down!’
The words echoed in her ears. It was as if the fog cleared and she tried to sit up, pain lit up her body like electricity before going numb. Suddenly everything seemed so silent. The world shifted, she could feel the cold concrete on her back as clearly as if it were in her bones.
Morgan was fast, it must have only taken him seconds to get to her. Which was odd, she’d been standing next to Spencer, but she couldn’t see him from her line of sight. She tried to force herself up again. only to be met with Morgan’s strong hands pushing on her shoulders.
‘No, don’t move.’ She turned her head to the side and through the haze of what was happening she saw something that made her eyebrows furrow in confusion. Maybe she’d hit her head. She must have hit her head.
Spencer was standing in front of JJ, his whole body poised like a shield protecting her. His arms around her shoulder, her hands gripping the front of his vest. Then the confusion unravelled like a loose thread, tugged on.
Spencer had moved to protect her. He’d left her side to protect JJ from the Unsub’s shooting. He’d actively moved further away from her to go and stand in front of JJ. But he wasn’t in love with JJ. He was supposed to be in love with her, so why had he gone out of his way to protect JJ? Was he in love with JJ?
They’d always been close, she knew that. But this? This felt more than friendship, you don’t dive in front of just a friend instinctively if the supposed love of your life is right there in the line of fire. Surely, your instinct is to follow your heart, is that what Spencer had done? Had he followed the true line of his heart?
She wanted to ask him why. Why he had done this? But her voice had deserted her, her throat drowned in icy silence. She felt the darkness creeping in, wrapping around her like a shroud.
The pain of the betrayal was raw, every nerve in her body seemed to buzz with it. She felt like a marionette whose strings had been cut, left to crumble under the weight of her realisation.
Morgan was next to her, holding her, placing his weight on her torso, he was lit up in a golden halo and his eyes looked like they were gleaming with fear and un-spilt tears.
‘Where’s the damn medic?!’ He shouted backwards in what must have been the general direction of the team.
‘It’s five minutes out.’ The voice was level, in charge. It must have been Hotch, but her eyes were getting too heavy to check.
She wanted to tell Morgan to stop looking so scared, to assure him she'd pull through like always, but the words died in her throat. Her breath hitched as a new wave of pain washed over her.
'Hang on,' Morgan pleaded, 'just hang on.'
She could hear Spencer, his voice sounded panicked, high pitched and his breathing thready. He was muttering something that sounded like an apology and a lot of cursing or praying to God. She couldn’t tell.
She wanted to reach out, to comfort him, but the strength had left her body. The edges of her vision were blurring, and the last thing she heard was Morgan's desperate plea echoing in her fading consciousness.
'Stay with us,' a voice commanded, each word punctuated with a raw desperation. But the darkness was too inviting, too persistent. And as the world around her faded, she couldn't shake off the sinking feeling that something irrevocably had changed.
----------------------------------------------------------------------
The hum of the engine lured her out of her memory. Maybe it was her fault. She’d loved Spencer like it was breathing, had worshipped at the altar of his love, only to find it empty. It was clear he hadn’t done the same, that convenience was simply his reason.
The false god she had created of him had fallen, shattered into pieces. The truth of his mortality, his flawed humanity, had never been so palpable. The feeling was both liberating and terrifying.
She looked out at the sky and the world below, the vast expanse seeming to mirror the emptiness within her. Emptiness echoed in her ears, filling her with a sense of loss that was almost unbearable.
The scar below her left collarbone throbbed beneath her shirt, it could almost be mistaken for heartache.
#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid imagine#criminal minds imagine#criminal minds#criminal minds x reader#criminal minds fic#criminal minds angst#spencer reid angst#spencer reid fanfiction#cm fanfiction#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x self insert
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02. at 6pm tomorrow ⸝ ˚⋆
↳ half written, half texts. word count: 1.5k
you and yunjin go through the doors of the cafe, the bell at the top ringing in the process. your friends look up and smiles spread across their faces.
you both take your seats at the table. yunjin reaches over and takes a small bag of chips from hueningkai. a waiter, who’ve you all become quite accustomed to, asks you all for your order. she scribbles away on her little notepad and you all ring out your answers, tells you all to have a nice day, and then scurries off.
“don’t be mad…” you start, turning to jake, yeonjun, and hueningkai. they give you an expectant look.
“soobin asked to join, he needs my help with classes.” you glance at the clock, he should be here any moment. you hear a chorus of groans and turn your head back to the group.
“i do not want to see that asshole’s face,” yeonjun says, a bitter look on his face. you always seem to forget that he has a history with soobin and his friends. they all used to be friends until they betrayed yeonjun and everyone who wasn’t part of it went along with it. your heart sinks a little.
“i’m so sorry, yeonjun,” you say. “i tried to tell him i had plans but he said he really needed my help since i’m in the class.” yeonjun just shrugs a little.
“it’s okay, it’s not your fault. i just hate him.” the waiter comes back with your drinks and you all dig in.
“so what did he need your help with again?” hueningkai asked. you reminded him and he let out an ‘ahh’.
“didn’t think he was that smart if i’m being honest,” jake said. earning a laugh from the group. he was next to you at the table so you elbowed him, causing him to spit out a little of his drink. “hey!”
the bell at the top of the door rang and you shot your head towards it. soobin walked in, the same as you’ve seen him only thirty minutes before, looking around looking for you.
you could get used to him looking for you, you thought.
you raised your hand a little and waved it in the air, hoping you’re not coming off as desperate. it got his attention and he smiled as he made his way up to your group. you stood as he reached the table.
“hello,” soobin waved and looked around the group. you couldn’t help but notice how his eyes quickly traveled over yeonjun. you desperately wish that you knew the whole story of what went down between them.
when you came to your friends about your crush on soobin, they reacted the way you would’ve expected. some yay’s, some boo’s, but yeonjun revealed that they actually know each other. he told the group about being friends, and then the betrayal, and how the others turned on him as well. you instantly felt bad about the feelings that blossomed for soobin. you told yeonjun that you’ll try your hardest to quickly get over soobin, but he told you not to worry about it. that what happened between them was a while ago, and you can’t help who you like. still, you felt horrible and tried your hardest to get over soobin, but as soon as all the feelings were almost gone he would do something that would make them come back at full force.
“hi,” you smiled. you grabbed your drink from the table. “let’s go to an empty table and i can help you.” he nodded and the two of you walked to a table a couple tables away from the one your friends were at. not far away enough that you couldn’t see them, but far enough that you couldn’t hear their conversation.
anxiety was rushing through you and it took everything in your power to try and appear calm as the two of you sat down together. scenarios were popping up in your mind and you forcibly pushed them back.
he sets the bag he was carrying down on the table and pulls out his laptop. when he opens it, it's already open to the classes that you can apply for.
“so i was looking through the requirements for the class and i think i’m qualified for most of them, but there’s one requirement that i’m sort of confused about.” soobin points to the requirement that he’s talking about and you lean into the laptop to take a look.
the two of you are so close now that your arms are almost brushing against each other. you take a deep breath. the requirement is about how if you count the credits towards one course that isn’t for sociology, then you won’t be permitted in the class.
“currently, i have the credits going to economics, but i don’t know if i could change that or not.” soobin says
you nod, thinking, “you should be able to switch the credits over to sociology and it should count for the minor. i would just go and talk to the dean just to make sure.” you decide to be bold and look over at him. “other than that, you should be able to take the foundations of sociological theory.”
he leans back in his chair and smiles at you for a moment, catching you horrendously off guard. you can’t help but smile back at him.
“you’re the best, y/n,” he starts, when you start to tell him it’s nothing he cuts you off with, “no really, you are! none of my friends knew what to do and it would’ve been kinda embarrassing to go to mr. lee himself. you’re a lifesaver.”
the words replay in your mind over and over. and you look down to try and hide your heated cheeks only to notice that you and soobin’s knees are touching.
this is absolutely unbearable, you think, but a huge smile breaks out in your face.
“i need to repay your kindness somehow!” you hear soobin say, making you look up.
“oh! there’s no need for that, truly. anyone would’ve did what i did!”
soobin shakes his head, “i insist! hm…” he trails off as he looks away and thinks for a moment. “how about i buy you dinner? what do you say, tomorrow at 6pm? at rosello’s?”
you laugh a little and nod, giving in, “yeah… okay! okay, that sounds good!” your heart leaps in your chest. you’re on cloud nine and can’t help to feel that this might be the start of something new.
soobin nods, and packs his laptop back up. you both stand up as he puts his bag on.
“thank you again,” he says, turning to you. you put a hand up.
“it was nothing really! i’m happy to help!”
“see you tomorrow. rosello’s at 6pm, don’t forget!” he says. the two of you begin to walk away from your table, you back to your friend’s table and him to the door. you give a little wave as he turns towards the door, hearing the ringing sound and it shutting behind him.
as soon as you sit down, yunjin shows you all the pictures she sneaked of the two of you together. you playfully scold her, but inside you were ascending. one was of the two of you where your arms were brushing together, another of him leaning back in his chair smiling at you, and another of the two of you smiling at each other. it looked like you guys were a couple on a date.
your cheeks heated up even more and your friends made fun of you for it.
“what’s at 6pm tomorrow?” hueningkai asked. you told them of him insisting to buy you dinner at rosello’s, a pretty expensive restaurant in the middle of town.
“wow,” jake said, as if he were telling a dramatic retelling, “an expensive candlelight dinner! just the two of you! ooo… what could happen next!” you elbowed him again.
“it’s not a candlelight dinner!” you protested.
“it actually is,” yunjin said. your eyes widen. was this supposed to be a date? was he asking you out?
no, you think to yourself, it was just him being nice.
“remember us when you’re too busy with soobin saying how much you love each other,” said hueningkai, teasingly. you quickly shushed him and looked around the cafe. thankfully the people who were in the cafe were tables away and none of them heard him. the group laughed as you all gathered your things to leave.
your friends were ahead of you already making their way to the door as you were grabbing your drink. yeonjun came up beside you and put a hand on your shoulder. he had a serious look on his face.
“i just want you to be careful with him, y/n. him and his friends. you don’t know the type of people they are.”
you gave him a firm nod, “i promise i will be.” and the two of you followed your friends out the cafe.
masterlist.
summary: choi soobin has always been the popular kid surrounded by his popular friends. y/n… not so much. one night, soobin and his friends make bet that soobin can’t get y/n to date him in a month. unfortunately for y/n, they’re a hopeless romantic.
A/N: giggling and kicking my feet like i’m not the one who wrote it… enjoy!
taglist: @imagineyour-kpopboy @gothgyuu @carengene (if your name is bold it wouldn’t let me tag you!)
— kipo <3
#📼 — ALL FOR A BET ⸝ ˚⋆#txt#tomorrow x together#txt imagines#txt scenarios#txt x reader#txt social media au#txt smau#txt beomgyu#txt huening kai#txt soobin#txt yeonjun#txt taehyun#choi soobin smau#choi soobin x reader#soobin x reader#soobin x y/n#soobin#kpop smau#kpop social media au#kpop imagines#kpop scenarios#kpop#le sserafim yunjin#le sserafim sakura#enhypen jake sim#enhypen sunghoon#tomorrow x together social media au#tomorrow x together imagines#kpop x reader
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Steve Harrington x fem!reader[2.7K] soft, desperate end of the world smut.
It didn’t happen like this often, there wasn’t always a need for it. That’s not to say that yours and Steve’s sex life wasn’t plentiful… it just wasn’t always like this.
More than needy, beyond desperate, frantic, wild, the kind of sex you have with someone who almost died in front of you. The kind of sex you have with someone to remind them and yourself that you’re both still fucking alive.
You barely make it inside, adrenaline pumping, blood rushing in your ears and the absolutely insatiable need to feel your boyfriend against you in every way you could because the world had gone to shit and when the Earth had opened up at your feet, it had almost swallowed Steve whole
“Steve,” you whimpered, almost cried, because the lock was stuck and you had your hands pressed underneath his shirt and suddenly, it wasn’t enough anymore.
Vecna was gone. Not dead, not defeated, but gone. Hiding, lurking, somewhere out of sight. The town had cracked into four, split into pieces, a jigsaw puzzle no one knew how to put back together.
Not yet, anyway.
That’s why you were here, at Steve’s, under instruction from Hopper to grab what you both needed and meet back at the cabin, ready to leave town, to get somewhere far away — for now. Somewhere where everyone could sit and take a fucking breath. Where everyone could be safe, even just for a day.
But you needed more than clean clothes and a toothbrush, Steve knew that too. He felt it, felt the need, the absolute agony of needing to have you right now.
“Steve,” you said again, voice broken. Your fingers dug into his sides a little, skimming over his ribs as he groaned and swore at the lock. “I need—”
“Baby,” Steve soothed, “I know, I know. Just gimme a m—”
The lock finally clicked, the key turned and you both tumbled into the dark house. It was empty, as always, and you both were told to call each of your parents and explain to them what happened before they saw it on the news channels.
Murray had grabbed you both by the shoulders, the shock slowly wearing off and settling into tiredness, a slow ache in your hearts and your stomachs and your heads. He’d told you to go home, pack a bag, call your parents and tell them you were okay, you were alive and that everything was fine.
(It wasn’t. Nothing was fine.)
He told you to tell them to stay out of town, on their vacations, on their business trips out of state. He told you to tell them that you were going to go to a motel a few towns over, that you were both with the Byers, that chief Hopper was back home and alive and keeping you safe.
It was all too much to explain over one phone call and it was too much to possibly even think about. Because how were you supposed to even begin to do such a thing? How were you supposed to keep your voice from shaking and cracking? How were you supposed to call your mom and tell her that a man had risen from the dead and the office she worked at had sunk into a crack in the earth that looked like the literal gates to hell? How were you supposed to do any of that when Steve was looking at you like he needed you more than air?
That’s why you ignored everything Murray had said, letting Steve slam the door closed behind you as he tossed the keys to the console table at the door, the one with the plastic looking photo of him and his parents, the dead flowers that sat in a crystal vase because no one was ever fucking home.
You let the boy guide you, never rough, just insistent and when he got too impatient, when the clock in the kitchen seemed to tick louder and louder, Steve whined and ducked down to meet you, lips messily slanting over yours as you stumbled into the living room together.
Steve didn’t lift you, not quite, but he tugged you against his body, your toes just brushing the floor as you both crashed towards the sofa. Steve was quick to spin you both, making sure he landed first, pulling you down on top of him until you spread your legs and straddled his thighs, lips never leaving his.
Hawkins was burning but you could only think of the boy.
Your hands shook as they travelled over his sides, his arms, pulling at his jacket until he shrugged it off, eyes clenched shut as you kept kissing him, making the softest, greediest sounds.
“Fuck,” Steve sighed, breath stuttering, “shit, c’mere, let me—”
He leaned up to you, reaching you as you sat on your knees above him, letting the boy grab the hem of your dress and pull it off. It smelled like damp and smoke and gunpowder, like the sting of moonshine from makeshift bombs.
His eyes watered at the sight of your skin, dust covered and scratched and scraped, superficial wounds that looked red and angrier than they were but Steve shook his head at them, as if he could will them away. The boy had watched you from across the hall at Creel house, as helpless and as stuck as you were as you were both forced to stare at the other as vines tightened around your necks and chests.
Real life was a living, breathing nightmare and the only thing that seemed to help you escape it, was the touch that your boyfriend could give you.
Steve was alive.
He was okay, he was safe, he was right in front of you.
It still wasn’t enough.
You were back on him before your dress hit the floor, your hands grabbing at the hem of his shirt that had a torn collar and you were whimpering as you pulled it off, impatient beyond belief.
His hands soothed at you, curling around your ribs, thumbs running circles helped the band of your bra and Steve was making soft sounds that were meant to soothe you.
“S’okay, you’re alright,” he was murmuring, hands roaming without much thought, cupping your damp cheeks, petting over your hair, pulling you into him by the small of your back. “I’ve got you, tell me what you need.”
“You, Steve,” you were crying more openly now, the comedown hitting you harder than you had anticipated and without the rush of adrenaline, there was only upset and fear. “I just need you, Stevie, please.”
You didn’t give him a chance to respond, your fingers working at his belt and Steve groaned, his own hands shaking as he tried to help you, both of you pushing his jeans down just enough to free his cock from his boxers. He was already half hard, the sight of you in just your underwear and the need to feel you making him twitch.
“Babybabybaby,” he murmured, “you’re good yeah? Look at me, sweetheart, lemme see your eyes.”
His hand tucked under your chin and lifted it, breathing out when your glassy eyes met his. You were panting, chest heaving, but you were still with him. Steve brushed his thumb under your lash line, swept away a stray tear and brought you back to him for a kiss, needier than before, urgent, a little messy as he licked into you, tongue pressing over yours.
You were almost sure you heard something snap, the ping of elastic as Steve unclasped your bra and dragged it down your arms, hasty and barely looking as he kept kissing you, all teeth and tongue and complete and utter fucking adoration.
He whined into your mouth when your hand wrapped around his cock, letting you swallow his sounds, kissing them from him as you dragged your palm over him, once, twice.
“Need you,” he told you and you tried not to mewl out when you nodded, pushing yourself closer into him, into his touch. “We need to be fast, sweetheart, we shouldn’t even be doing this. Not right now.”
Steve was right, of course. You knew that. You were supposed to be on the phone to your folks as you told them not to worry whilst Steve shoved clothes into a rucksack.
But despite his words, his logic, Steve was hooking his fingers into your underwear to pull them to the side, breath stuttering out from his chest as he felt how wet you were. One finger, two fingers pumping in and out until you grabbed at his wrist and pushed your forehead against his.
Your eyes were closed, lips parted, stealing the breath from him as you leaned in, barely kissing.
“Just want you inside me,” you whispered and god, you sounded wrecked. “Please, baby.”
Steve’s head hit the back of the couch as he let it fall back, jaw slack and neck pulled taught. He stared up at you through hooded eyes, fingertips just pushed to your clit, moving slowly enough to make each touch feel like an electrical shock.
“Don’t wanna hurt you,” he whispered, but you were already pushing up onto your knees to line yourself up with him, the head of his cock brushing against your entrance. “Christ, sweetheart, heyheyhey, shit, go slow.”
You tried to do as you were told, Steve’s hands a strong grip on your hips as you took him in inch by inch, crying out at the stretch. It was the kind of burn you wanted, a slight pinch of pain as Steve bullied his cock into your cunt, gasping at the way you clenched around.
“Fucking hell,” Steve groaned, throwing his head back, eyes clenched shut as he left crescent moon shaped marks on your hips, panting as you took all of him. He whispered your name, the softest noise, the sweetest. “Baby, baby, y’alright?”
His palm coasted up the soft of your stomach, a slow, warm drag of calluses and scars over your tits until his fingers curled around your throat, a gentle hold, enough for your eyes to snap to his.
“Talk to me,” Steve murmured, bringing your forehead to rest against his own, noses bumping, lips brushing. “Let me hear you, pretty girl.”
It wasn’t a request for dirty talk, you knew that. Not when it was like this, no, that’s not what Steve was asking for. He just needed to hear your voice. To know that you were okay, you were here and alive and breathing and safe like he was.
Your breath hitched and hiccuped, lips parting as you whined out. “Steve… Steve, I need you closer.”
It seemed like an impossible ask because the boy was already throbbing inside of you and had every inch of him but Steve just nodded. He’d give you the world if you asked for it, he’d fix the broken one you lived in, he’d stitch it back together and wrap it in a pretty, scarlet bow, just for you.
He brought you in, chest to chest, arms wrapped around you as he helped you move, a rhythm hardly there, because honestly? Neither of you were necessarily chasing an orgasm, just the need to feel the other. But you rocked and started a messy grind over the boy as he held you, your hands tangled in his hair, thick and messy with dust and grime but you didn’t care.
You wondered if it would ease the burn, the ache, the need for the boy. You wondered if you both came, gasping and groaning into each other, you wouldn’t want to cling to him for the rest of the night.
(You doubted it.)
“Atta’ girl,” Steve cooed, voice rough and heavy with desperation, mouthing at your throat, ghosting his lips over your cheek, your chin as he thrust up, hips canting. “My girl; my gorgeous, sweet girl.”
You keened, hands pulling at Steve’s hair a little rougher, making his lashes flutter, his jaw hanging slack as he fucking growled for you. It all turned a little manic then, messy, dirty, desperate.
Nails across skin, grabbing and clawing, hair pulled, lips bitten, marked up throats and aching hips as Steve held you over him, always with a surprising strength. He kept you there, his hands grabbing at your ass as he fucked up into you harder than before and the pressure, the harsh snap of his hips into yours was enough to send you over the edge.
It caught you by surprise, your breath catching in your throat in a low, babbling moan, a squeal, a swear. You clung to him, pulling Steve back to you as you came hard, your cunt slick and clenching down on him, tighter and right until he was crying out and holding you to him.
He snapped his hips one more time, burying himself into you as he came too and you were moaning out loud at the feel of him, cock twitching.
“I love you I love you I love you,” you were chanting as you came down, as you rode out your high, Steve’s face buried in the crook of your neck as he cried out, mouth open and pressed to your collarbone.
“C’mere,” he huffed, rosy cheeked as he tore away to look up at you, hands wide and clasping at your cheeks. “Baby, I need—”
He cried out as he kissed you, cheeks as damp as yours, the sound wrecked and desperate. You couldn’t get closer, Jesus Christ, he was still inside you and yet it didn’t feel like enough.
“I love you,” the boy mumbled into your lips, the words kissed away and kept, tucked away into a space between your ribs, yours to keep forever. “Love you so fuckin’ much, you know that, don’t you?”
You nodded, sniffling as tears rolled down your cheeks and you both tasted salt, kissing away the fear that you both felt. The night felt impossible.
“Yeah, I know,” you soothed, voice quiet, hands petting over the mess of his hair, “we’re both okay, yeah? We’re all okay.”
And you were. For now, at least. ‘Cause you were still in Steve’s arms and his lips were on your neck, kissing a soft, warm line over your shoulder. And it was selfish the way you stayed there for too long, quiet and safe in the dark of the boy’s living room whilst the world outside the window fell apart.
Neither of you moved until the phone rang, a shrill reality check that echoed through the empty house. You gasped and Steve groaned when you moved off of him, his hands warm on your hips as he helped settle you onto the couch. He handed you your dress and pressed a sweet kiss to the corner of your mouth before he headed for the phone.
He was buckling his belt as he answered, brows furrowed and bare chest cold at the loss of you. You could hear the buzz of Hopper’s voice through the receiver and it made Steve’s face fall, made his eyes pinch in the corners as he nodded and told the older man,“yeah, we’ll be there soon.”
You were by his side when he hung up, forehead pressed to his shoulder and his hand found yours, fingers tangling as he brought it to his lips, another kiss, another touch, still not close enough.
You knew what you had to do, what you both needed to do. So you took a quick shower whilst Steve packed, the water scalding and running grey and red at your feet. He had fresh clothes for you when you walked back to his room, bare feet soaking the floorboards, hair dripping.
You barely felt the cold, barely registered Steve’s hand on your arm as he brushed past you to shower off the dirt and dust and blood and sex.
Maybe this was shock. Maybe this was the comedown. Maybe this is what happened when you went too long without touching the boy.
But Steve let you hold his hand the whole drive over, his car protesting at the way the roads were pulled apart, potholes and ridges in the tarmac as Steve took the best route he could towards the Byers.
And that was enough, for now.
#steve harrington#steve harrington x y/n#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington x you#steve harrington fic#steve harrington fanfiction#steve harrington fluff#steve harrington fanfic#steve harrington smut#steve harrington imagine#steve harrington oneshot#steve harrington blurb
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i love opposites attract au so much 🥹 what would happen if someone (maybe a new teammate or someone who does really know black cat) said something rude about her like maybe about her personality or her shyness? i feel like luca would be ready to sock someone in the nose LOL
he is always so ready to punch someone when they talk shit about her for no reason and after he walks away from the situation he just feels so sad
he wishes people saw her the way he did and that they’d at least try and give her the benefit of the doubt
through my eyes | opposites attract au, lf63
luca had been paired up with seamus and another guy from their class for an assignment, and they’d been sitting in the guys living room talking away for the last hour, assignment be damned
“you guys must get like a fuck ton of girls at parties, right? i mean like, hot girls, too,” the guy had commented, tilting his head so his words served as a question
“eh. sometimes, sure. lucas got a girl though, he’s head up his ass in love with her,” seamus smiled, looking over at luca who gave a small smile, the reminder of you making his heart flutter
“yeah? you got a picture?” the guy chuckled, watching as luca turned his phone screen and showed him the picture of you two he had as his lock screen
you were laughing together, you pretending to open up to bite his shoulder and him just beaming at the camera. it was one of his favourites of the both of you.
“oh. yeah, i think i’ve seen her around. shes pretty weird,” the guy shrugged, going back to seamus and staring to ask about some of his hookups.
seamus shook his head “dude. what the fuck,” he raised an eyebrow, coming to your defence while luca soaked in the comment, already angry.
“what? i’m just saying, man, you can do better,” the guy scrunched his face, confused as to lucas and seamus’ reactions
“she’s beautiful. and she’s quiet, yeah. but she’s not weird. she probably just didn’t fucking like you,” luca but in, eyes cold and pissed towards the guy.
“no, fantilli. she’s weird. she doesn’t talk to anyone and she’s about to fucking bite you in that. weirdo shit,” he vaguely gestured to lucas phone, rolling his eyes.
“you don’t know a thing about her, man. don’t fucking talk about her like that,” luca replied, fist gripping his phone roughly
“whatever. keep fucking your weirdo girlfriend. the rest of the team can have the hot, normal ones,” the guy smirked, clearly just trying to rile up luca and see how far he could take it
“jesus christ- let’s go, luca. grow a fucking sack, asshole,” shea eyed the guy, shoving his and lucas things in their bags and pushing him out the door, trying to get the both of them out of the situation as fast as possible
luca was quiet for a good while, a somber look plastered on his face while they walked back to his and your apartment.
“she’s such a sweet girl. nobody tries to see through her when she’s quiet,” he mumbled, looking over at seamus who was visibly uncomfortable because of everything that was said at their partners place
“don’t pay any mind to him, fants. the team loves her, shy or not,” luca looked down, a small smile forming on his lips
you were still pretty brash with a lot of the team, but they all included you in the group and loved lucas love for you regardless.
the people he actually cared about were all that mattered, no matter how bad he wanted everyone to see you how he did.
#opposites attract au !#e’s 500 celly!#e’s blurbs!#luca fantilli#luca fantilli x reader#hockey imagine#nhl imagine#umich hockey
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Dos and Don’ts IV
A/N: hello my loves this final part to this fic completes the birth of one of my favourite fics I’ve written. Thank you for reading and enjoying it just as much—every like, comment, and dm meant the world <3
Parts: 1 / 2 / 3 / 4
—————————————————
We have an extra day in Barcelona and the team is buzzing to enjoy their nightlife since we could sleep all day tomorrow. I’d visited here while I was a uni student so I give some suggestions.
Harry’s a little on edge the whole time. Earlier today some headline from a musician Harry worked with was taken out of context and thus took the internet by storm. Now he was being flooded with people wanting to know his thoughts and feelings. It was a hot topic.
With a joint effort of me, Jeff, and Graham, we tried to keep the spotlight on his Barcelona show. Well my role was mostly to screen Harry from seeing any further discourse online.
The show itself was one of the loudest I’d been to—I was glad I had my own ear protection. The tense Harry falls away and he’s electric on stage. Even coming backstage he’s on a high; he hugs the crew and thanks everyone like he usually did at the end of shows and disappears into his dressing room with Jeff. They look like they’re talking intensely.
“So,” Sarah slides in beside me. “We noticed you’re a bit different coming back. What’s happened?”
I try to play dumb but the girls keep pushing.
“Me and my fiancé ended things,” I confess. They gasp, Claire’s eyes actually fill with tears.
“Shh!” I shush them. “Keep it on the down low please I don’t want anyone to know.”
“But y/n why are you even here!? Is it because of tour! I’m sure Harry could have rearranged things-“
“No no,” I appreciated their support but I didn’t want to hash things out. “It’s just…I think it was a long time coming. God, I don’t wanna cry. I’m good. For now. And I want to be on tour I need the distraction.”
“I get it,” they sympathize. “We’re gonna make you forget so hard tonight.”
“Okay but don’t,” I look around us to make sure there was nobody else around. “Please don’t tell Harry. Seriously please. I don’t want him to know especially. I don’t want him to treat me differently or something.”
“Lips are sealed.” Sarah zips her mouth. “But we can all tell you’re off. It’s hard not to practically living together these last couple months. If he asks we’ll say…”
“Just say she’s on a break?” Charlie suggests.
“Yeah,” I shrug. “Things are complicated, I’m on a break, whatever that’s fine.”
The girls lean towards me and envelop me in a hug. It reminds me of my friends I’d said goodbye to.
“Thanks,” I say through tears.
And the girls hold me to their promise.
After we get dressed for the night—I chose a corset-style top and trousers—we head out. The sun dips below the horizon and the old city is cast in a warm orange glow that could inspire anyone who set eyes on it. String lights come on and music plays from various doors; the city is alive.
We tease each other about looking so glam as we wander the narrow cobblestone streets. Aside from the shows we all wore sweats and tees.
Every place we pass sets my senses alight. We grab tapas from a place that smells irresistible and chat over each other about tonight’s wicked show. I continue avoiding Harry by sitting as far away from him as I can get.
As we wander off in search of the club I can’t help but feel a twinge at how incredibly romantic the moonlit streets felt.
The club is loud and alive, the noise levels even feel normal after the roar of the last few of Harry’s shows. My mood starts shooting up steadily as I drink in the energy around me.
We join the crowd and I give away my worries and my annoyances to enjoy the music. I feel it in my chest and for a blissful moment I’m grateful for my whole damn life despite everything.
“Cute guy!” Someone shouts in my ear.
Charlie nudges me to one of the guys dancing nearby. “Get distracted!”
I shake my head no.
“Do it!” She cheers. It barely travels to me. She grabs Claire’s hand and tugs her, letting her in on the plan and they goad me into going for it.
I motion a drink. I’d need another shot for the courage.
We trail back to the bar and do a round of shots, and they grin with thumbs up as I hesitantly enter the crowd again.
The dude they pointed out is tall and beautiful. Like beautiful not even handsome. I get stuck looking up at him in awe, he wasn’t really my type. A tad too pretty boy but when he notices me looking he smiles and I’m won over. I couldn’t deny a good smile.
“Hey!” He turns his body to me. At least I think he say hey.
“Hey!” I shout back.
“Que pasa?”
“What?!” I couldn’t hear a single thing. What did I expect.
He smiles and takes my hand that had been anxiously playing with the edge of my top. The other has a hand splint that I’d received in Madrid. Apparently I sprained my fingers.
The stranger wriggles both my hands to loosen them, raising his brow at the splint. I laugh.
He asks in my ear but I don’t understand. It sounds like a question, something bylar. When I scrunch my brows he laughs, “Dance! We dance!?”
“Dance!” I laugh. He was cute! “Yes! I want to dance with you!”
“Vamos,” he pulls me in. I understood that at least.
I used to do this in uni, I think. I should be able to do it again.
He teases me a little because I’m so tense. His hands knead down my back to my waist to get me to relax. It feels nice, being touched by a man that looks like he was carved from marble but filled with music.
I begin to find my rhythm and sway with him, eventually letting go completely. He compliments me as I start to move with him and pretty soon I’ve channeled my 20-year-old self. It feels pretty spectacular.
When his lips ghost my cheek I don’t protest. Right now, I felt good. Everything was on the back burner’s back burner and I felt grounded in this nighclub with this random stranger who was paying attention to me, just me. And it’s just us. And it’s just temporary. And I feel good.
When I turn around, my back to his chest, he moves my hair to the side and kisses down my neck. It felt good.
I run my hand up into his hair and he moves lower murmuring foreign words on my skin, our bodies still dancing in the same language, his hands still gripping my waist and my hips. I feel blissed out.
It ends in a split second.
“What are you doing?” Harry’s suddenly tugging me towards him. His mouth makes the words I just fill them in with his annoyingly bossy voice.
“Hey man,” the guy I’m dancing with tries to get in between us.
“What are you doing!?” I snatch my hand away from Harry.
Harry puts his hand on my partner’s chest and says something to him, maybe in Spanish. He looks at me with puppy dog eyes and I look at Harry. What had he said.
“What did you say?” I ask. I try to call back my dancing partner but he just salutes me with a smile and fades into the crowd. No wait, I’m being dragged away.
“Y/n what are you doing out there?”
“What am I doing?” I shout. “What are you?! I was having a nice time with that guy what did you say to him?”
He walks away, further back into the edges of the club. There’s a few people milling about with a number of them involved in heavy makeout sessions.
Harry turns to face me finally. “You’re engaged y/n, Claire and Sarah said things are complicated at home is that why you’re doing this?”
“What!” I throw my hands up, tears prick my eyes. What the fuck was his problem! Since when did he care? “Why do you care?! Yes, things are complicated and I was getting my mind off of said things—what is your issue? You want to drag me back here and remind me of how shitty things have been?”
“This isn’t the way,” Harry insists. “You don’t even know that guy!”
“Whatever I’m over this convo.”
I turn to leave but Harry grabs my hand, the one in the splint, and pulls me back.
“Sorry,” he lets go of the splint. Then picks it up again. “Look. I’m worried about you. This isn’t you, you’re not the girl that goes home with another guy when your fiancé is back at home! I just don’t want you making any regrets.”
“Oh is that it,” I step towards him so my hand isn’t so outstretched. He stands still but on my second step he inches back. “Since when did you get a high horse huh? Don’t tell me who I am and who I’m not. You barely know me! If I want to make decisions I regret I can do that. They’re mine to make.”
“No. Y/n, as mad as you are don’t go home with a stranger.”
“As if you don’t!” I scoff. “What’s your real agenda here? What’s going on?”
“Nothing!” He insists.
“Why do you suddenly care so much about my chastity?”
“It’s for your own good!”
He’s lying. I know he’s lying and I don’t know why he pulled me away from my beautiful Spanish dance partner but I was actually relaxing and now he’s put me right back into this crazed and tense headspace I kept finding myself in.
Fine, I decide. I could make him regret it.
“Really? You care about my morality that much?” I ask.
With my hand flat on his chest I’ve pushed him further into the wall behind him. He watches me with a guarded look.
But I want him unguarded, vulnerable. The same way he’s made me feel. I lean in, “Are you really worried about the technicalities of me cheating on my fiancé?”
I hover a half foot from his lips. Finally his eyes flicker down to my lips and I know I’ve got him.
I slide my hand up his chest and when my hand inches up the skin of his throat his eyes grow unguarded and heady with lust. He doesn’t push me away. He doesn’t say no.
Hypocrite.
I drop my hand.
“That’s what I thought Mr. Styles.”
I watch for a wonderful moment as the lust clears from his eyes and he realizes what happened. Shame, embarrassment, resignation, and then anger.
I spin on my heel and head away from him. He could deal with the consequences of his actions all on his own.
I’m half-afraid he’ll come after me but luckily I make it out of the club alone.
“He’s such a dick,” I say more to myself. Just to get it out because I’m pissed. “Who the fuck does he think he is!?”
My night is over. I just want to take this all off and forget about it. Maybe I can lock myself in my room and raid the mini-fridge, get drunk and cry myself to sleep. Those seemed like the best options right now.
I take an uber to the hotel. As I walk up to it I notice a weird crowd outside. For nearly 2am I wasn’t expecting this and my instincts kick in that this wasn’t normal. Especially when I notice all the camera straps.
“Excuse me,” I ask the front desk. “Why are there a bunch of paparazzi outside?”
“Is there?” The man behind the counter asks. “Sorry we will tell them to leave. Are you staying with us?”
“That’s a privacy concern out there, and a concern with your staff because they’re here. How do they know who’s staying here?!”
It seems to dawn on him I wasn’t just asking out of curiosity. He promises me he’ll get management. In the meantime I call Jeff and explain the situation. He starts to panic the way I hated, looking for something to blame. He calls Graham who sounds like he’s driving in nascar. It’s a very noisy and over-stimulating conversation.
“Call Harry!” Jeff orders. “Tell him he cannot go back to the hotel no matter what! Fucking vultures man!”
“Y/N,” Graham says in a calmer voice. “You need to go back to where Harry is with some sort of disguise. A hat or sunglasses. That sort of thing-“
“It’s night.”
“Yes night. No glasses. Book the closest hotel you can find. Tell his band they can come back, but to go through the back. They might get spotted but they’re trained on dodging questions. That will keep the vultures there waiting for Harry and we can pick you two up back to the airport tomorrow morning. Where’s after this?”
“Glasgow,” I bite my nail as I think. I had to call Harry asap. What if he was on his way back. “I gotta go now to call him though. Talk later.”
I hang up and call Harry. He picks up the second time.
I explain the situation and he reacts the same way as Jeff, swearing and cursing the papps. I tell him what I was going to do and tell him to go right back into the club. To pass on the word to the team even though I was going to send them a text.
I head up to my room and grab what fits in my bag. I didn’t have Harry’s room key so I decide he’d have to wear my hat and head back out. The vultures stay waiting, now just a few feet further away from the entrance.
I speak briefly to management—I figured Jeff could talk to them and give his classic earful.
On the drive I find a nearby hotel to the club and collect Harry to get him there. We’re too tense to talk when we meet up. Once inside again, I tell him to sit in the lounge while I go up to the desk.
Act above it all, I channel a rich bitch. We needed privacy and we needed nobody to know Harry was here.
“Hi I need a room.” I say.
“Of course, how many night will you be staying with us.”
I glance back to see where Harry sits. He’s in a wingback chair that’s mostly turned away and with his hair stuffed in the baseball cap you can hardly tell it’s him.
“Just a night. I need your best room please.”
“Absolutely,” the woman smiles and I feel bad for only giving a tight-lipped smile back. I wait as she clicks away, finally looking back to me with a slight frown. “So miss unfortunately we are very booked tonight. There are a couple events going on in the city making things very popular.”
“The best room will do. Preferably large.”
“Well,” she hesitates. “A lot of our larger rooms are taken um. I can offer you a bed with one king, it is a bit smaller because it’s by the elevators. I also have one with a queen that is tucked away in the corner with a better view.”
I wanted to be as far away from Harry as possible but by an elevator was asking for trouble.
“Well, I’d rather stay far away from noise so we’ll take the queen.”
“Is that just you or…” she glances at Harry.
“Yes. Two. We’ve had a rough day of travel he’s just resting.”
I hand over ID and my card, trying not to balk at the total. At least I’ll get reimbursed.
“Do you have any bags?” The concierge swoops in as I get the key card.
“No! No. Like I said, bad travel day. We just need somewhere to sleep and we’ll reunite with the bags once they arrive tomorrow.”
They leave us alone after that. I hoped it was because I’d been standoffish enough and not plain weird.
The elevator ride up to the 8th floor is stony and I spend the spare second to text Jeff and Graham the hotel’s address.
The room itself is pretty sub-par and the adrenaline of getting Harry here safely wears off.
I drop my bag by the door and pull out my toiletry bag.
“I don’t have clothes for you to change into, I didn’t have your room key.”
“Yeah. S’fine. I’ll just sleep shirtless unless that bothers you.”
We stare at each other for a tense moment.
“I’m fine with that, you’re the one with the high horse.”
After doing all this for him I wasn’t going to be easy to deal with if he wasn’t going to be easy to deal with.
He chooses to ignore me.
“How the fuck did they know I was staying there? We were under a-“
His phone rings and he answers. Sounds like Jeff.
I use the time to go to the bathroom and finally take off the makeup. I realize I should have grabbed my pjs from my bag too. I take my hair down and massage my scalp with my fingers, letting myself calm down despite the aggressive voices outside.
“Yeah whatever. Keep me updated.” I hear. Great. That was done with.
I leave the bathroom and Harry’s still pacing the floor.
“You’re gonna wear the carpet down if you keep doing that.”
He stops and looks at me, his eyes trail down my body.
“You didn’t bring yourself a change of clothes either?”
“You wish,” I head for my bag again and grab the tee and shorts. “I just forgot them out here.”
“Do you always have to be so snarky?”
Oh, so he wanted to fight. Good news for him, so did I.
“Depends. With you? When you’re being a dick? Yeah. I do.”
“It’s really quite unbecoming.”
“Is it?” I mock his accent. “It’s not proper for a lady to be snarky?”
“I don’t sound like that. You just never let anything go.” He continues.
“I never let anything go?” I repeat.
“Yeah! Ever!”
“What do you want me to let go?” I ask.
“Everything. You’re bothered by everything just let it all fucking go.”
“No like specifically what should I let go?” I turn on him and with each question I stalk towards him. “Being treated like trash by you? Being told I’m replaceable and unnecessary? Getting bossed around about who I can and can’t dance with because you suddenly decide to be the morality police!?”
“Jesus take it down a notch y/n.” We’re fuming as we square off. “I’m not your bloody fiancé.”
“And thank fuck you’re not!” I throw the clothes in my hand on the bed. “You’re my employer Mr. Styles and I’ve been nothing but a good fucking employee for the last year! I try to keep my patience and do everything I can to do my best! You’re the one always trying to blur lines! You’re the one always getting in my damn business when I don’t pay you to!”
With every accusation I poke my finger into his chest and it’s like literally pushing buttons. His face gets stonier and stonier until I’m sure he’s going to crack.
“You wanna know what your fucking issue is?” He swipes my hand away.
“Oh sure tell me, wise Harry Styles who definitely has no issues at all. Tell me.”
“This. This is your fucking issue,” he spits. “You’ve always got such a temper on you! I’m not blurring any bloody lines I check up on you and you get all offended over nothing!”
“Over nothing?” I ask. I laugh sarcastically and walk away from him. I was seeing red. “Over nothing?”
“Yes! I don’t do shite and suddenly you’re trying to bite my dick off.”
“You fucking wish,” I turn on him. “It’s crazy you don’t realize what an absolute jackass you are! We should be refunding all those fans who’ve come out to see you because the man they’re paying for is a fake! You’ve treated me like nothing and embarrassed me countless time-“
“Embarrassed you,” he scoffs.
“Yes!” I go on. “What do you call what you said on our way to Paris huh? You can be so cruel! So if I have a temper it’s justified because you’re one of the worst people I’ve met!”
“What did I say?”
“Are you kidding? You’re going to make me repeat it?” He was crazy. He was depraved and absolutely insane. Or he just hated me.
“I’m not playing a game just tell me!”
“You said I could have skipped the whole tour and nobody would notice.” I say the words that had looped through my head. And of course, he has the audacity to look surprised. “Thanks. A lot! It makes it even worse that you were so casual with your cruelt-“
“You need to stop being so sensitive,” he has the nerve to say. “Then maybe you can manage your temper.”
“I can manage my temper any time but you’re moody like a pre-pubescent teen and that looks to be a lifetime fucking problem!”
“What’s your fucking problem Y/n! What is your problem with me!? Why do you still work for me if you are this angry all the time!”
“I’m not this angry all the time, you just makes me this angry! And I hate you for it!”
“Then quit!”
“Maybe I will!” I had to. After tonight and this blowout I had to. How could I work for Harry like this.
“Great! Then you can take your problems with you.”
“Don’t gaslight me,” how dare he. “You’re not innocent in this! You create my problems and blame me for being this way.”
“Whatever y/n.”
“No.” I wasn’t letting him off the hook. I get in his face again. “Why did you stop me tonight? Why did you keep me from doing what I wanted tonight?”
“What? I told you I was looking out-“
“Bullshit!” I cut him off. “That’s a bullshit excuse, I want to know why!?”
I feel like I’m made of flames and in desperate need of a lobotomy. How could one guy make me this crazy. How could it all revolve around him.
“I was doing it for your own good! But clearly I understand why it’s so fucking complicated with your partner-“
“Don’t you dare talk about him,” I seethe. I was mad. Fuming. I want to get physical, I wish I could throttle him or at the very least access one of the pillows from across the room and smash it to the floor. I want him to see how angry I am because my words are twisted with every angle Harry could find. I wanted him to admit to something he’s been skirting for a long time. “Tell me.”
Harry stares at me with hate in his eyes and I know I have the same look. I wasn’t going to let him get away.
“You don’t even have the balls to admit it,” I poke. “Is this why you’re so hard-headed to anything I say? Because you can’t even admit something like this to yourself?”
“Just shut the fuck up y/n and stop being so mental.”
“I refuse to shut up. I want you to talk.”
His breathing gets faster and I watch him flex his hand. He was as angry as I was. Good.
“You’re a fraud. And I hate you.” I step into his space. Our bodies are a hair’s breadth away from each other’s. I want to show him how mad he makes me. I want to do something. I want him to admit this thing he’s been dancing around. It makes me so mad!
When he starts to shake his head at me I lose it. Instinct takes over where I want to physically show him how angry he was making me. I grab his face in my hands and push my mouth against his. I meet teeth.
But it doesn’t take long for him to respond. To correct the unadulterated anger with purpose.
He pushes back, kissing me harder whilst pushing me against the wall. I feel sandwiched, my chest crushed against his and I bite down on his lip trying to get back some control.
My hands are all over him, grabbing his shirt, running through his hair, pushing under his shirt to touch skin. Harry does the same, pulling at my hair and lifting me onto him.
Our tongues clash together, his hand grabs my ass, squeezing and moving up. His hands feel hot on my skin, his metal rings an icy contrast. Neither of us want to give up control. We keep fighting, just now with our bodies.
“Why can’t you ever just let it go,” he traces his teeth over my collarbone. It all feels too much.
In response I push him back, he stares at me for a heated second before we crash into each other again. We don't care where we are. All that mattered was here and showing the other who was in control. Who hated who the most.
Harry pulls away, his mouth a deep pink from our fight. His eyes are half lidded, his pupils dilated. I can tell he wants this but a part of him hesitates.
"We're doing this," I commit, not taking my eyes off his lips.
"I’m doing this," he growls and lifts me up, any hesitancy washed away. I wrap my legs around him, not thinking about anything but what I was going to do.
He whirls me around and deposits me onto the bed, and his body covers mine while his mouth attack my neck.
He wasn't gentle or slow, but then again, I didn't want him to be. I pull off his shirt, not wanting anything between us, not caring that my nails would leave marks down his back. Leaving something permanent on him sounded exactly what I needed.
I tug on his hair as his teeth come down on my chest. I feel heated as he swears, “Teasing me with this top all night was a fucking sin y/n.”
“Fuck off,” I gasp as he figures out the row of clasps at the front and the icy rings of his fingers presses against my sternum. I grit my teeth, “I didn’t wear this for you.”
His abs contract as he pushes himself back up, his eyes dark as his hands find the clasp on my trousers, undoing them with ease and tugging them off. His other hand comes back up to tilt my chin up.
“D’you really hate me?” He asks.
“Yes,” I respond with zero hesitation.
He moves his body, covering mine with his own again. My breath catches in my throat as he presses his lips to my neck, slowly moving down. He drives me crazy with anticipation and I wriggle up to keep up the pace but he holds me in place. I let out a moan as he kisses my inner thighs, his fingers gripping the tops of them. I'm squirming under his hold, the heat pooling inside of me.
“Do you hate me?” He asks again.
“Yes,” I cry, not wanting to relent to him.
“Good,” he says and that’s the last thing I remember.
The rest is a tangle of limbs, an out-of-body sensation, and seismic wave after wave coursing through my body. It’s unlike anything I’ve experienced before; the fury we felt with each other fuzes to the passion of the moment and it blitzes every damn thought out of my head.
Hours later, or maybe the whole night later—I don’t know but all I do know was that my body was spent and I was barely hanging on.
“I can’t,” I plant my hands on his shoulders and nearly pitch forward just from pausing. His hand splays on my back, keeping me in place as he turns us around.
“Okay?” He asks low.
I nod, grateful that he was taking over.
And after riding out what I know would be my last wave he rolls off of me, and we lay there just trying to catch our breaths.
After a few minutes, I sense him tilting towards me, his eyes on my face. When he stares for so long it becomes obvious, I look back at him.
His eyes are not the same ones that started this mess, they’re breezy meadows of green compared to the icy sea glass from before. But it’s not surprising. With each round and each minute we spent with other tonight, things had grown softer. Not gentle, but softer.
And as we look at each other with the awareness that the anger had bled into the threads of these tangled sheets a long time ago, we’re left with something neither of us want to distinguish. At least I don’t.
His gaze holds something too real for a place like this and I quickly look away and back at the ceiling. I feel his eyes on me a moment longer before he himself turns away to stare at the same ceiling.
“Y/N,” someone suddenly calls my name, tapping my cheeks with a gentle pat. I have to pull myself from the depths of wherever the fuck I just went to open my eyes and look up, at Harry. He looks concerned and asks me a question that I don’t register—I was truly out of it. I must have dozed off.
I push his hand away and grab the closest piece of clothing to wrap around myself in which ends up being a sheet. I take myself to the bathroom to clean up.
I hardly recognize the girl in the mirror. My eyes are blown out and my neck looks like it was rammed by a bull. I can hardly look at the rest of me. I would need to buy something high necked before we got picked up tomorrow morning and use all the concealer I had. I know I marked every inch of him I could find too.
I had never felt that level of passion with anyone. It was unnerving.
My knees collapse under me as I sit on the toilet and try to count the tiles on the opposite wall, just to come back to earth. To my body.
I sense a shadow under the door after I’m in there for a while, I watch it move from one side to the other and then move away. I wait longer, nearly falling asleep there before going back out.
The bed looks a right mess and most of the duvet is twisted to the side. I don’t bother with it, I use the sheet I’m wrapped in and crawl right into bed. Harry seems to have fallen asleep too but as I near sleep I feel the bed dip and the heavy weight of the duvet drapes over me.
I don’t have enough clarity or energy tonight to think about what any of this meant but I know I was right about leaving.
***
We return to London on a Wednesday morning and nearly kiss the ground. Harry was still playing two shows here but getting to go back home instead of a hotel room was enough to make us weep.
I didn’t really have a home to go back to. I’d been thinking about that a lot as the tour took us closer and closer to London. I had texted Gray yesterday and we agreed I could crash there until this weekend to get my stuff together.
London had a metaphorical grey fog over it in my mind. Nothing felt appealing about it and the only thing on my mind these days was home—my childhood home.
I already knew I was going to give in my resignation letter to Harry after tour but I had a 3 week period under contract. I don’t think I could afford a hotel for three weeks and staying with any of my friends is out of the question.
These thoughts kept me preoccupied.
It helped me not to think about that night though. I avoided Harry unless it was for work, returning to the solitude of my first few months working for him. He does the same: curt and avoidant. I know others notice but nobody dares to ask.
It was the most intense thing I’d done in my whole life and that was saying something. There was a way that Harry got under my skin that nobody else could. And it was hard to find a balance after the scales had shifted so far in that direction.
I felt like I had to block it out until I could have space to process it. And yet memories still seeped through when I was quiet for a moment too long or when he’d walk past me with the same cologne as that night and I’d catch a whiff. I was doubly sure this chapter had to close.
When I get back to the flat on Wednesday Gray has vanished as he promised. He told me he’d drop by that evening to talk. Surprisingly, I felt calm about it. I don’t know if it was getting all of that ferocious energy out that had been churning for months, but I feel level-headed and I appreciate the space to myself.
Gray texts me before he arrives. Like this wasn’t the flat he was now paying for alone.
I know what he wanted to talk about—we were all supposed to go to Harry’s last show at the o2 since I had tickets for everyone. Josie was stoked and based on the way she’s been texting me leading up to the day I don’t think she knew. Gray confirms it.
“So,” he rubs the back of his neck. He looked nice in a beanie and corduroy jacket. I wonder if any of the effort was for me, then vanish the thought.
“So,” I echo.
We stand awkwardly across from each other—him propping himself up behind the couch and me leaning against the dining table. Like we needed to get as much furniture between us. Like we hadn’t shared a bed a few weeks ago.
“We should sit?”
“Yeah,” he attempts a laugh and sits on the sofa. I choose the closest chair and turn it to face him. “Yeah. Um, I don’t know how you feel about Saturday. But I haven’t told Josie yet. I haven’t really told anyone.”
I nod, “Me too. Not really. People at work think we’re on a break.”
“Right. Good.” He says. “I’m not tryna lie to people but I don’t really want to get into it…”
“Yeah,” I agreed. “So Josie?”
“I’ll let her know once…once you move out?”
Move out. Of this flat. It’s been home for nearly 3 years.
Gray had surprised me with it when he found it—I had been broke and only been able to pitch in for utilities and groceries but he’d been gracious. He’d been supportive once. But I guess his support had boundaries too. I didn’t entirely blame him for that.
“Sounds good. Or later, maybe when she’s done her exams.”
He leans back on the couch, arms spread over the back and sighs as he studies me. “Yeah of course. I should’ve thought of that. You’re always good at that stuff. She’s gonna be gutted.”
I nod. Not sure what to say to that.
“So you’ll be out on Saturday yeah?” He asks after a while. It seemed both of us had a lot on our minds. But his question stings a little.
“Yep. I’m off for most of the week so I’ll just pack things up. Uhm, with Josie and whatnot I guess we’re still acting like a couple? Will that be weird?”
“Yeah. It will be but we’ve got no other option.”
“Right.” I respond. His voice grows an edge I’m not a fan of. “Well. Thanks for letting me stay here. If you need anything else I guess you can grab it now.”
I want to ask how he’s doing, who he’s staying with, and just hold his face one last time to really remember. But his cold apathy grows like frostbite over the room and creeps into my heart. I always thought where there was love there would always be love but I’m not as sure tonight.
I stay busy and when I can’t sleep at night; I map out a dream, an exit plan home. I write up my resignation letter, I look at flights and rentals and talk things out with my family, I cancel wedding and couple shit, and grieve a fair bit.
On Friday afternoon, my only formal shift this week, I head to Harry’s with an anxious weight in my chest and a buzz in my head from the hope. Hope that this chapter of my life could end soon, and I can head home and recuperate and plan out what my life was going to look like.
Harry’s on a call when I get in. He spares me a glance but I head to the office with my stack of mail. Today was mostly for some housekeeping/admin but I hope to avoid Harry for the most part like I’ve done since that night. My letter sits like a bar of gold in my bag.
I hear him move about the flat. I restock some pantry items, and we speak as little as possible. Going with him to his meeting was my final task for today so I decide it’s a good time to hand in my letter.
I find him sitting in the studio, tapping a pen against the table.
“Mr. Styles?”
“Hm?” He drags his eyes away from his screen to look at me.
“So we’re heading to your meeting in 10. Before then I just wanted to hand this in.”
The envelope stays outstretched in my hand and he eyes it, not taking it.
“What is that?”
“Can you just take it?” I shake it a little, like a bag of treats for a puppy.
His muscles move one inch every ten seconds, that’s how slow he is to sit up in his seat and finally take the letter from my hands. I almost let out a big sigh of relief. The process was finally in place.
“What is it?” He asks again, tearing the corner and down the side like he usually did.
I wait for him to unfold the thirds before answering, “my resignation letter.”
His eyes scan the sheet left to right right to left and when he looks up at me it’s hard to say what he’s thinking.
“Is this a joke?”
“No? Obviously not? I’m handing in my 3 weeks. I’ll also email a copy to Jeff and you.”
“Why are you doing this?” He stands, his tall frame rigid.
“Why? Because I’m…I’m quitting? I think I’ve learned everything I could here a-and it’s time to move on.”
By here I don’t mean working for Harry Styles and co but just here as in London. I’ve learned a fuck ton of life lessons here, and it was time to process them elsewhere.
“Is this to get back at me somehow? I don’t understand,” the papers crinkle in his fist as he grips it tighter. “Do you want a raise? Can we talk about this?”
“No.” I say and even though there’s so much more I could say I think that sums up my answer.
He looks puzzled, then annoyed. Just then my phone buzzes. The car was downstairs.
I grab my laptop and we head down. I was coming along to take minutes and then head home. In the car I reassure Harry,
“I plan on wrapping things up in the next three weeks and making sure everything is set up for an easy transition. I’ll leave continuity notes and reach out to people I regularly communicate with to break the news. The next couple months are pretty easy anyway coming out of tour and going on holiday so there should be plenty of time for the new PA, whoever your hire, to catch up.”
He doesn’t say a word. It reminds me of our first drive to the studio together. How naïve I was. How things changed.
He continues staring out the window, resting his face on his fist. I remember my teeth dragging over that jaw. I blink the image away; this was why I had to go.
When we get to Graham’s office Harry tells Jeff, “we don’t need minutes.”
Jeff looks over at me for answers and I shrug. I guess I came here for no reason but at least I had my laptop to work.
“Uh y/n please come i-“
“She’s fine working out there,” Harry cuts Graham off. Graham looks offended, his gaze drawing between Harry and I. Again, I shrug. I wasn’t leaving today I don’t know why he was acting like it.
For the next hour or so I sit at a spare cubicle and do just as I said in the car. I type out lists for upcoming interviews and studio days. I send emails for information to note for whoever the poor person was to replace me.
I had been keeping the Dos and Don’ts updated over the last year and it feels like a baby the way it came together with so much thought. I was almost sad to part with it.
Nobody tells me the meeting is over. The door simply opens and Harry breezes past.
“I’ll be in the car.” He mutters. Any faster and I would have to hold down the papers around me.
When he’s gone beyond sight, I turn back to the open door.
“What’s the matter with him?” I hear Graham asking inside.
“You keep pushing him,” Jeff responds with irritation. “That’s not his brand Graham.”
“Well that’s a different tune. Prior to this you were singing my praises with these new ideas.”
“I don’t know. Something’s been up with him for…a while-“
“Since that article isn’t it?” Graham references the Harry Styles slander when we were in Spain. Little did they know other things had also happened.
“We dealt with that article.”
Shit, I think. Has he been any different? I think I was keeping too much distance from him to notice.
“Y/n,” my name snaps me out of my thoughts.
“Mhm?” I’m beckoned to the meeting room. “Yes?”
“Find out what’s wrong with him. Or better yet just convince him to be a bit more alive at his last show tomorrow with his usual charm? He hasn’t been his full capacity the last few shows has he?”
Shit. “Um. Burnout?”
The two men look at each other. They make a face like that couldn’t possibly be why. I tell the men what they want to hear, that I’d try to find out and get him back to his charming self (yuck) before joining Harry in the car.
“Jeff and Graham aren’t all that happy with you,” I say when we start driving. Harry was giving me a lift home. “They’re insisting you do it right at your final tomorrow. Be your charming self.”
He grunts in response, head facing the window again. Was he allergic to look forward in the car or something?
“Are you coming?” He asks after a good ten minutes of silence.
“Tomorrow?”
“Mhm.”
“Yeah. I gave my extra tickets to…my fiance,” my brain fumbles my words as it remembers what he was and now is. And the lie I had to keep up. “And his sister and her friend.”
He just nods in acknowledgement, somehow stonier.
When the car pulls up to my familiar building I thank his driver and begin my shimmy out but Harry puts a hand to my knee to stop me. His touch sears right through my stockings and he must feel it too because he slides his hand back.
“Answer this,” he looks at me for the first time tonight. Wow, this really did feel like my first week on the job.
“Sure,” I reply.
“Is it because of that night?”
It’s the first time it’s been mentioned, and his gaze burns brighter than a forest fire. It’s mesmerizing and I can’t look away.
Wait, he wanted an answer.
“It’s because of a lot of things,” I answer truthfully.
He clenches his jaw. Leans back in his seat. The seatbelt reverses to hold him in place again and he’s no longer looking at me. I take that as my cue to go.
***
Josie bursts into the flat dressed to the nines in a groovy floral jumpsuit and boas in her hand. “Don’t worry. I have one for each of us.”
Her friend trails behind her in an equally 70s inspired look.
“That’s what you’re wearing?” Josie judges her brother’s hoodie and jeans. “You’re lowering the vibe Gray do better. Y/n? Why didn’t you brief him?”
“I did!” I eye Gray. “Don’t blame me.”
This was way more awkward than I thought. Or I really was not as good of an actress as I wished.
“What am I supposed to wear?” Gray asks. “I’m not wearing a jumpsuit.”
Josie rolls her eyes. “Y/n please drag him back and find a decent tee or something?”
“Yes ma’am,” I take Gray by the arm and take him back.
“This is kinda weird hey?” I whisper when we close the door.
“I don’t really like it either,” Gray scratches his head. “But it’s for the best.”
I nod and then louder announce, “Well it’s Jo’s night so find something a tad more retro?”
We end up with a red tee and find a belt to tie the look. Josie hugs her brother with thanks when she sees it.
I had on a pair of black bellbottoms paired with a blank tank. My hair was in spacebuns and Josie plucks a few boa feathers to accessorize my hair. It’s cute.
We head off and I have to make a conscious effort to remember my mannerisms with Gray before all this. I feel woozy while I slide my hand into his on the ride there, as Josie snaps our pics on her disposable, as she tells us to get one of us where Gray’s kissing my cheek and she’ll save it to show our kids. It makes me sick.
He keeps an arm on my waist as we walk. I want this night to be over so bad but every time I look Josie’s way I perk back up a little. I wanted her to enjoy this.
And she does. I’m sure she’s lost her voice by the end of the concert. At one point we drift away a little and breathe easier to drop the act but when she’s back Gray wraps his arms around me from behind and we act like a happy couple. Again, I felt sick.
Being in Gray’s arms held none of the spark it used to. I just feel awkward and sad.
At one point Harry looks my way, I don’t know how he spotted me in such a big crowd. It’s between songs and he looks at the group I’m with. I give a pathetic wave and he nods ever so slightly, his gaze sliding off soon after. Gray’s arm tightens around my shoulder and my heart gives a squeeze in response. I’m reminded: this era was ending.
The band told me to meet them backstage at the end, to join in on the final-show celebration. Josie and Gray would wait at a local pub and with the way Josie’s Instagram stories were glowing I could imagine her sitting there uploading it all.
“I couldn’t have done it without any of you,” I catch Harry saying as I slip behind stage with my pass. “I know I’ve not been the easiest to be with but you all sit in my heart. This is our Euro tour, concluded.”
Somebody pops bubbly and I congratulate the whole team as they drink. They insist on going out for proper drinks and I’m denied not going. They tell me to invite my guests to party with them and I know, based on where we were going, Josie was going to flip.
Juniper, a club that gets us all in on Harry’s face card, is opulent and lively on the inside. Josie is buzzing about with her friend—Gray had opted to go home, claiming he had early morning sessions. Josie didn’t think twice about him, but we pretended to go back and forth with a final warning from Gray to Josie to behave.
“He’s a broody one,” Charlie comments on Gray as we chatter while we get drinks. “Sister?”
“Yeah. Doesn’t know yet though so,” I put my finger to my lip.
“So no Barcelona dancing tonight?” Sarah teases. I laugh and tell them to keep me tamed. “We gotta do some shots with the team though where is everyone?”
We gaze around the room and manage to get everyone together. After one round of shots and another that Harry forced on all of us I feel the tension I’ve been carrying with me most days slide away.
We end up sticking together as a group and dance together, laughing and cheering each other on. Even Harry’s in a cheery mood—I suspect the alcohol. I catch him watching me at one point and when I raise my brow he takes my hand and spins me in a friendly twirl. I trip on my wide-legged pants and he catches me from behind. With my back to his chest I have the urge to turn around and kiss him and feel the peculiar comfort I had received from him before. That thought drives me away from him again. Despite the tight knit group there’s too much between us to even attempt being close.
I call it quits when Josie finds me and announces she was going home. I hug the newfound family I had made over the last few months one final goodbye, knowing I might never see them together like this again.
***
Jeff’s reaction to my news surprises me the most. He’s visibly upset and tries to sell me anything to stay. I tell him there was nothing to keep me at my job but I would rely on him for a good reference. I think it’s the first time he’s ever reassured me.
Between Harry and I it remains curt. Sometimes even edgy. I post my own job replacement and Jeff keeps me updated on potential candidates. By the time my last week rolls around I’m host to a roil of emotions.
The first week homeless, Charlie had let me crash on her couch and promised not to say a word to anyone. I didn’t want to overstay my welcome and so I had checked into a hotel and called it home for now.
I’m on my way back home to the hotel after being at Gray’s. We’d invited Josie over for dinner now that her exams were over and she’d been suspicious from the start.
We had told her the truth and she refused to believe it, hurt and betrayal in her eyes as she looked at me and realized she had been kept in the dark for the last week. I felt worse then, than I did when Gray and I called it quits.
I promised her a lunch together this week to talk more. Just because I was out of Gray’s life didn’t mean I had to be out of hers. I thought I could also tell her then that I was leaving to go back home.
On my second last day at work, Harry sends me on an errand near the end of the day. When I get back there’s a small group of friendly and familiar faces waiting to surprise me. I’m touched by the gesture, and I try to corner Harry to say thank you but it feels he avoids me at every chance, always in a larger crowd.
I finally catch him while I’m heading out of the bathroom and he’s heading down the hall.
“Oh hey,” I step in his way. He looks cornered. “I just wanted to say thanks for throwing this.”
“Yeah,” he gestures it was nothing. “It was Jeff’s idea.”
Ouch. I hide the sting. “Well. Thanks regardless.”
He nods, staying mute, but his eyes speak a thousand words—just none that I can read. They stay trained on me, communicating whatever.
Slowly the furrow between his brows eases and the sharp edges of his face give way to a softened expression. I’m scared to move in case I break the trance and don’t get to hear whatever his racing thoughts spit out. Just when it looks like he’s about to say something, a guest turns the corner up the hall.
“Anyone in the toilet?” It was Mitch. Damnit.
“Nope,” I step out of the way, inadvertently brushing Harry. A shiver runs up my spine and I try to act casual but he stiffens beside me. Was it that awful being around me, jeez.
I give up. If he wanted to continue staying moody, so be it. I leave to go back to the party and don’t look back.
My final days in London are hard. The same way I arrived, I go: alone and unsure of what’s ahead.
I always thought here was where I would stay forever. And maybe one day I would return but there was a little too much friction between me and the Capital.
I finish work on an unremarkable note after going through processes with the new hire, and dotting all of my i’s. Harry is nowhere to be seen and I’m gone before he gets back. I’m frustrated that he’s behaving this way but there’s also too much between us for the simple goodbye I yearn for.
I visit all of my old favourites, have one last drink at my old local pub somewhere in between Gray’s flat and Harry’s. I shed a lot of tears on my pilgrimage through the city’s veins. I promise the paved and cobblestone roads I would be back one day.
The walls of my lungs ease open on the flight home. Still, tears cascade down my face silently as the plane sleeps. Eventually I do too. When I wake the sky is filled with bright blinding sunrise, and American soil peeks out below me: I was finally home.
••••••••••••••••••••
Present (2 years on):
My heart flutters seeing Harry here, I chalk it up to anxiety. But it annoys me that despite all the distance and the growth, he still had an effect on me.
Harry’s head turns and before I can be smart about it our eyes lock. His eyebrows raise ever so slightly before his face falls into a nonchalant facade again. I don’t even want to know what my face looked like.
Then he gets the nerve to smirk, hang his head, and then grab his drink and walk towards me.
“If I had a cross I would be holding it up right now.” I have to shout a little so he hears me before he gets to me. He was an emotional vampire feeding on all of mine.
“Now why’s that?” He continues towards me. My emotions swirl through me. “I thought time heals all wounds. Why the unfriendly welcome Mrs. Duran?”
I grit my teeth at the name, he was still filled with poison. “Right, the timeless wisdom of clichés.”
“I like to think I’m pretty timeless.” He smiles.
“I’ve found that time may heal wounds, but scars make sure you never forget.”
“Well, scars aside, you look good,” he moves on and I feel like an idiot the way I was used to feeling around him.
“Of course I do.”
“What are you doing in London? Last I checked I was getting a reference check from America.”
I debate not answering him but I was trying to straddle the line between indifference and confidence. It was like walking a tightrope.
“I’m in London for a little while,” I give vaguely.
“Ah,” he smiles and damnit I forgot how handsome he could be. How handsome could then turn into seductive so quickly. I had to remember: Still a devil. “Are you looking for a new employer? Because I could be hiri-“
“No.” I cut him off. “I finally have a job I love so I’m good.”
Something flickers in his eyes but surprisingly he stays quiet.
“What are you doing here?” I ask. I sort of wish I still had a drink in my hand, they feel awkward and clunky and I want to avoid playing with my hair. Gah. “Global star drinks alone at his local bar?”
He laughs but I can tell I hit a minor nerve. “Here I’m just a local. Always have been—it’s nice to be anonymous for a little bit.”
I roll my eyes. I didn’t believe that for a second. He loved his fame and everything that came with it.
Plus I used to come here all the time, I would’ve known if my employer was a local too. He was lying for some reason.
“Mr. Styles if there’s one thing I remember about you, you’d choose death over anonymity.”
“Firstly,” he leans in and I get a whiff of his usual cologne with a hint of malt. “A person can change a lot. So maybe you don’t know me as much as you think you do-“
“Oh I don’t think anyone can change that drastically in only a year-“
“You seemed to have.”
His words take mine out of my mouth. I hadn’t changed, not really. I’d always been this y/n but the further I got away from him the more reassured I had gotten being that y/n.
“And secondly,” he continues before I could think of a response. “You no longer work for me. Harry is fine.”
The smile he throws me is almost sweet if I didn’t know the cruelty that could hide underneath. I don’t return the smile, I only raise my brow and look back down at my phone. My cell service hasn’t gotten any better and I’d missed the wifi password.
I could connect to Harry’s wifi, ask him so that I could order an uber.
I’d rather van gogh my ear.
I weigh all my options and consider the last one again. I look up to see what Harry was doing in the silence and find him looking at me. A shiver runs up my spine as our eyes clash. So much history and words unspoken fall in between. A very specific night flashes through my mind. I wonder if it does him because he looks down first. Damn.
“So I’ve gotta get going,” I say.
“Let me buy you a drink.” He says at the same time.
He laughs awkwardly and repeats, “One drink?”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Why not?”
“We’re not drinking buddies.” I pull my purse to my chest, wanting to hop off this stool and run home if I need to. Put as much distance between myself and this man that was put on this earth to confuse me.
“Then what are we y/n?” He asks, his voice silky smooth as he leans in. The voice that whispered sweet nothings into my ear in my worst nightmares, nightmares of cotton sheets and heated limbs, of passion and shame.
“Ex-employer,” I point to him. I point to myself, “Ex-employee.”
“Exes have drinks together,” he grins full well knowing the double meaning.
“Never ends well,” I eye the door.
“Just as stubborn as I remember.”
“And you were saying people change?” I raise my brow.
He drops the smile and sighs, “I’m not gonna be able to convince ya am I?”
I shake my head. He should know that by now.
“Can I walk you out at least?”
I shrug, couldn’t hurt.
“What is this?” I ask as he opens the door for me.
“What?”
“This? Why are you trying to be so friendly?”
“I thought we could be friendly exes.”
And when did he get so cheeky.
“Something weird is going on,” I watch him stay in step with me as I walk up. With no service I was going to take the tube. “And I don’t like it.”
“Nothing weird is going on don’t get all paranoid on me.”
“Don’t call me paranoid! You never call a woman paranoid.”
“I thought that was conspiracy theorists?”
“Nooo. You’re being weird.”
"Alright, no need to get all Freudian on me. Just trying to be a decent human here."
I shake my head, somehow in our exchange my face had decided it was okay to smile. To forget what he put me through and remember instead that when things were good between us we actually got along.
Damnit. The devil knew how to play tricks. I wipe the smile off my face while he continues walking with me.
“So…what have you been up to?” He asks.
“Working, you know me.” I say after trying to figure out what his angle was but unable to find one.
“Oretta Smith I hear, how did you manage that?”
“I’m just that good Harry,” I say. His name is weird in my mouth. Sure I called him that in my head but I usually used Mr. Styles. I can tell he feels the same with his quick glance my way.
“How do you like that?”
“Yeah, she’s a great employer like I said. Very professional. Lots of flexibility.” Each praise is a knock to his ego. But it was all true, plus with Winnie joining the team I had a friend my age that felt great.
But there was also a darker side called burnout that I barely admitted to myself. Ever since we landed in London and I had time to orient my new self in a city that molded my old self, I felt the familiar singe of purposeless. But I keep it to myself of course.
“Great.” Harry responds curtly. “What about yourself? How’s your life, are you finally married?”
My instinct is to raise my defences and chew him out, he must know Gray and I were done what with me living in the States.
And yet, when I peer past the defences and take a long hard look at him I realize he is asking earnestly and without another angle.
We’re nearing the tube now. I hesitate in lying or telling the truth.
“We broke up,” I choose to confess. I peek at him and he looks surprised, even sorry.
“I didn’t know. Sorry.”
“I’d hope not,” I reply. “Otherwise you’d be an asshole calling me Mrs. Duran.”
He huffs an awkward laugh.
“Anyway this is me—
“I can give you a ride home—wherever that is right now?” He asks.
We’re stood in front of the glass doors. There’s not a lot of people this time of night. And as tempting as his offer was, the way he looks at me right now sends poisonous butterflies to my stomach and I think it’s best I get home for the big day tomorrow and not make any regrets.
“I’m not too far,” I lie. I point a thumb to the doors behind me. “I’m just gonna…”
“Yeah. Yeah right.” He’s awkward, which is a first. He clears his throat and stuffs his hand into his pocket. I watch him with a removed sort of curiosity. Eventually he coughs out his question. “How long are you in London for?”
“A few weeks,” I reply.
He finally meets my eyes again—and there goes my stomach. He was supposed to have zero effect on me, I was supposed to stay mad at him. Why was my body betraying me? Why did it continue to loop memories from that night and remind me of the things he whispered in the dark?
“A few weeks,” he murmurs back.
His gaze travels over my face openly, no longer holding back the barely-hidden expressions from before. Because I told him Gray and I weren’t a thing? Because I was entertaining whatever bullshit this was?
“Yep,” I nod. Awkward. Nervous. Cautious.
“My number’s the same,” his eyes snap back to mine. “If you want to go for that drink later.”
“Harry,” I try to break it to him another way. I wish I could just say I never want that drink. “I don’t think-“
“Don’t think,” he cuts me off. He laughs when I furrow my brows. “I mean, I’m right here for most of the next few weeks. When you feel like you want to have that drink just give me a call. Or text.”
Why, I want to ask him. Why, after all this time, after everything that happened? And it’s like he reads my mind in the silence.
“I know you left on a pretty poor note.” He shuffles his feet. “I know a lot of that was my fault. I apologize for that. Um, but I did enjoy having you around. You were excellent at your job and…you are missed. Even Jeff remembers you fondly. Which is saying something.”
This was some sort of prank. Or Harry had gotten so famous he now had a doppelgänger roaming the streets as him. It couldn’t be that Harry, my Harry, would say something so sentimental and so…genuine.
“So uh yeah, I would love to see you again while you’re in town.” He says when I don’t respond.
“Right.” I choke out.
He shrugs when I can’t bring myself to say anything more. “We do change, whether you believe it or not y/n.”
I swallow, hoping to lubricate my vocal cords and find my voice. “I-I really do have to go.”
Crestfallen, he nods. His hand comes up to touch my elbow. “Yeah ‘course. Just…think about it?”
I look down at his hand and he lets go, we stay in another bubble of silence. His eyes flicker down to my lips and I feel a wave of warmth as I try not to do the same.
“Goodnight,” I blurt and get to the other side of the glass doors. He watches me go.
On the escalator down I risk a glance back and he’s still there, watching until I’m out of sight. That ended incredibly awkward.
Leave it up to Harry to confuse me in coming back into my life. Damn him, he could never be consistent.
***
Waking up super early to catch the train out to Cambridge is so worth it because I get to watch Josie walk the stage and graduate with distinction wearing her famous smile that beams over the vast room.
Despite what happened with Gray and I, Josie and I have kept in touch steadily over the last year. It started as weekly facetimes which reduced down to monthly calls and have now become a steady stream of texts and memes swapped back and forth.
When she found out I’d be in London around her graduation dates she gave me no choice but to show up, sending me a ticket without asking.
I knew I’d see Gray, and a part of me was nervous and curious how that was going to go. But mostly I was grateful to still be in Josie’s life and spend time with her in person. She was the part of this life I missed most.
I’m sat somewhere in the middle of the room and Josie was smart enough not to seat me with the rest of her guests. But I know I would see everyone during photos and the dinner we were having later on. I try keep my focus on the ceremony however.
“Y/N!” Josie rushes towards me when she sees me after the ceremony. The group she departs from I recognize is a mix of her girl friends, her family, and a few others.
“Josie!” I return the same energy and she leaps into my arms. I squeeze her tight to me. “I’m soo proud of you my girl.”
We sway side to side, until we get enough hug.
“Look at you!” She exclaims when she leans back. “Your hair looks amazing and you are glowing. Please tell me you have a boy in your life.”
“No,” I laugh.
“A girl?” She asks hesitantly.
“No! I’m just…happy where I am right now! How about you look at you! You look phenomenal as per.”
“Oh thanks,” she takes the compliment and giggles. “I asked my dad to grad gift me a salon and spa visit so I am rejuvenated and blown out.”
“Aren’t you ever,” I touch a lock of her hair. “Congratulations.”
“Eek!” She squeals. “Finally finished this hellscape! I can’t wait to never write an exam again—ooh wait I want you to meet my boy…”
“So that’s why we’re actually glowing,” I tease as she tugs me towards the group. That definitely has Gray. My stomach drops the closer we get, he doesn’t seem to notice. He looks busy talking to one of Josie’s friends.
“Anyway,” she deposits me in front of a 6 foot something guy made of angles. “This is Jax. My boyfriend. We met during a Friendsgiving Myles threw last year.”
“Nice to meet you,” Jax smiles. “Y/N right?”
“Yes!”
“I was supposed to get around to that,” Josie huffs.
“Sorry she talked about you a lot when she found out you were coming. She was really excited.”
“Ugh,” she turns to me like she was embarrassed but her face is glowing. Josie was in looove.
“You two are so cute,” I tease which just makes Josie blush a little harder. “So are we getting any pictures?”
“Oh yeah,” Jax swivels his head. “Liliya has the good camera if you want to get-“
“Oh we can use our phones,” Josie cuts him off.
“No get the high res one—Liliya, camera?” Jax motions a shuttering action to the friend Gray was talking to. He’s so tall above the crowd that both look up at him and comply.
“Y/N,” Josie drags my arms back and takes me on the outskirt of the crowd. “I’m so sorry I never mentioned because I thought you wouldn’t come if I did tell you but you-“
“Y/N?”
Josie’s rushed whispers are cut short when Gray notices me and calls my name. He looks stupefied. I spare a glance to Josie and she’s paled.
She didn’t tell him.
“Hey,” I force a friendly tone. I was going to kill that girl.
“Did you all want a photo?” Josie’s friend Liliya shoulders her way back into the circle with the camera on a strap. She turns to Gray, “Babe?”
It’s an odd sensation, like all oxygen has left my lungs and they’re being squeezed as if tightened in a vice. Gray’s eyes drag away from me to his…girlfriend? Definitely not Josie’s friend.
It shakes me in the moment how much I realize I still cared, still carried a shred of hope for…something. And not consciously knowing this makes this moment feel a little like a slap in the face.
What did I think? I was going to leave this country for a year and people were going to pause where I last left them? Of course Gray’s moved on. Aside from the end he was a great partner and anybody would want that.
These thoughts race through my head in the few seconds Gray responds to his girlfriend and I look at Josie. She looks guilty as charged.
“I tried to tell you just now?” She whispers.
Deep breaths, I remind myself. You’re not the hot-headed y/n these people knew last. This day is not about you. It’s about Josie.
“It’s cool. Let’s get some photos,” I smile. “Don’t want to miss having them with you.”
She sighs but keeps her eyes on my face as we walk farther out.
“I am really sorry,” she whispers.
“Hey it’s alright,” I lie. This was the worst of it—Gray had moved on, had a great girlfriend, and I was living the life I wanted. No harm and no foul. “Honestly Jo I get it, you wanted me here reallllly bad.”
“I did!” She says. “But I’m also gonna kill Jax.”
I laugh and we straighten up when we realize the camera was already pointed at us. Josie flashes her degree and a few of her friends join the pictures too. We hustle back to Gray to see them and flipping back on the first few makes my breath catch in my throat. There’s one in particular where Josie is turned to me talking and my mouth is in a big grin because I’m laughing.
I catch eyes with Gray in an uncomfortably intimate second.
“Send me that one for sure wow Gray that’s a really good shot.”
“Oh wow,” his girlfriend peers over. “That’s a great candid.”
“Yeah,” I agree. I’d love a copy too. And of course that’s when Gray’s girlfriend notices me and introduces herself.
“I don’t think we’ve met—is that an American accent I detect?”
“It is,” I smile. “I’m Y/N.”
“Oh!” Two spots of pink appear on her face. It seems she’s heard of me. “Well it’s nice to meet you—nice that Josie invited you! I’m Liliya but Lily works too.”
“C’mon!” Josie interrupts the awkward by grabbing her brother’s arm and pushes him in the direction of where her friends are posing for photos. He takes some shots but Josie hates the look of them and gives the camera to Lily instead.
With just Gray and I left behind it grows very awkward.
“I thought Josie told everyone I would be-“ I say just as he says, “I didn’t realize you would be-“
We stop and chuckle awkwardly.
“Sorry,” I shake my head.
“No,” he shrugs. “It’s cool. It’s cool you’re here actually.”
“Okay,” is all I can say. Until the awkward silence stretches. “So…Liliya?”
“Yeah. Yeah, Liliya. You?”
I want to lie, but I shake my head. “No. Sorta needed the year to breathe a little.”
“Fair. How’s America?”
“Oh y’know, still super-sized and politically a guessing game.”
“Have you turned on our news while you’ve been down at all?” He raises a brow. I laugh because he was right. It was all a shitshow everywhere.
He asks me about my family as Josie jogs up to us.
“Okay, tell me the truth is my hair going flat?”
“No,” I look behind her where her friends are hovering over Lily and the camera going over their photos.
“Good. Where’s mum and dad?” Josie asks Gray. “Dad was just here 10 minutes ago he said he’d come by for—oh there’s mum! Look!”
We turn to where she points. Michelle—what I’ve always called Gray’s mom, spots her daughter at the same time and waves. She starts to walk towards us.
It’s nice to see her but I also feel a bit nervous; going cold turkey on relationships you only had because of an ex are always weird to come back to. Especially ones you were fond of.
“Mum! You’re missing all the pictures!” Josie says. “Where’ve you been!?”
“I just saw somebody I knew back from my first job as a librarian can you believe that?” Michelle says as she joins the group.
“Crazy. Well mum look who got to show up today! Isn’t that crazy too?”
Michelle looks at me and the bright smile that was intended for her daughter dies like a flower in overnight frost. The look wipes the anticipation off my face.
“Who?”
That one word shades the sun from the sky and brings forth a gust of western winds through the group.
“Mum,” Josie look between me, her mum, and Gray. She’s confused. “Y/N?”
“Hey Michelle,” I croak. Maybe my hair was too different for her to recognize me, or maybe she had early onset alzheimers. Surely this woman who I’ve had a better relationship with than her own son has wouldn’t be treating me like your worst frenemy at your high school reunion.
But Michelle looks right through me. I can’t explain how it feels, not in the moment. I’m gutted, and feel an unexplainable wave of sadness.
“Mum…” Josie sounds hurt and Gray finally decides to swoop in.
“Mum let’s check out the photos we took already. We gotta get some of the three of us.”
They walk away and I feel seven inches tall but I turn to Josie with a brave face and face her teary one.
“That was kind of awkward,” I downplay.
“Y/N I’m honestly so sorry I-,” Josie blinks rapidly.
“No it’s ok!”
“I don’t know why she acted like that-“
“Hey It’s natural for her to feel that way I’m alright don’t get upset-“
“It’s not alright though! That was such a…she never acts like that.”
It was true. Michelle was a free-spirit as she called herself. That’s why Gray had such a hard relationship with her; in his words, she was too emotional and ungrounded for him.
Yet apparently, she was able to find enough ground to stand on when it came to treating me like a nobody. I wonder if it’s because she heard Gray’s biased side of the story or she was hurt herself—still, the way she’s always talked about herself never struck me as someone who would believe a one-sided story. Or be a bitch to someone they previously called their daughter. It hurt like a mofo.
I didn’t want Josie to find out this way, here of all places, that her mom was just human after all. She idolized that woman.
So even though it hurt, I comfort her instead.
“She probably just feels betrayed by me leaving and stuff since we were close too. Imagine if Jax broke up with you and she gave him the cold shoulder—wouldn’t you feel justified?”
Josie scrunches her brows to think about the simplified story I’ve just fed her to feel better. I can tell it still doesn’t sit well with her but she nods in acceptance, “I guess.”
“Yeah, just forget it Josie. Plus you’ve got pictures to take so dry those eyes.”
“Shit I know,” she blinks some more. “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to invite you here and twist the knife at every bloody turn.”
“Jo I’m honoured to get to be here and see all your hard work pay off. Don’t worry about anything else.”
“It’s unfair,” she says before she drifts to her group of friends. “I feel like nobody understands how…how understanding you are. But I’m really glad we’re still in touch. And you came for me.”
Her words bring tears to my eyes and I nod, afraid that talking would bring them forward. I watch her crash her group and start instructing photo coordination. I help hold things for people while they take photos and feel like a stranger outside the crowd. If it weren’t for Josie, I think I would have regretted coming here. I feel homesick and unwanted. A tough combo.
I was supposed to crash on someone’s couch tonight and do brunch with Josie tomorrow before going back to London but from the last half hour alone I know I’m going back to the city no matter how late it gets tonight. I think of the hotel room that was home right now, of how lonely that was going to feel to go back to too.
Home right now was in America, in the same time zone as my family, and comfortable in my shared apartment with one of my high school best friends who I reconnected with after going back home. I miss it so bad. And I feel like I’ve bitten into an unripe fruit coming back to the UK before I was ready apparently. My experience feels soured.
I shake off the doom and gloom when the party breaks. We were all going to meet at the restaurant at 6–my plan was to explore the university city and find a place to kill some time in. Maybe go outside to a park with lunch. Josie tries to convince me to join her and her friends for their mid-day celebration but I lie and tell her I had some work to do.
I call Winnie on my stroll through the city. I insist she update me on last night first, and she has more to tell—the guy had a yacht and he was inviting her to a party tonight. She tells me to join if I came back early and we cross our fingers that Oretta wouldn’t need her before then.
I originally called her to rant about Michelle and Gray but I don’t, I didn’t want to kill her vibe. So I scroll through my other contacts but don’t want to worry my mom and it was too early back home to reach anyone else.
My eyes catch on Harry’s name, he was at the top of my texts currently because he sent me a link this afternoon asking me for thoughts on it. I hadn’t opened it yet, I wasn’t sure what to think about this new persona he was wearing or that he thought yesterday’s run-in went okay enough to casually message me for my thoughts.
I remember the weird electricity of yesterday and shove my phone back into my pocket.
He genuinely wanted to have a drink? And talk??
I did enjoy having you around. You were excellent at your job and you are missed.
Was he trying to make up for his cruel words? But he also seemed a lot more mellow than before. Maybe that was just because I didn’t work for him. What did he want? And was I twisted for believing the new schtick?
Most curious of all was him at the pub in the first place. He was not a local there—that was a big lie.
I try to conjure up my previous hatred, calling him the Devil in my head. But it’s harder to do. Seeing him yesterday, he was just a man standing in front of a woman with a head full of cautionary tales and bad experiences.
Without warning images from that night come back and I feel my heart flutter. I shut them down just as quick. Not all bad, my body tries to remind me. I tell it to shut up.
I’ve barely stepped foot in this country again and already my mind was running circles around my heart. How exhausting.
***
I’m early to the restaurant, before anyone else apparently. As the hostess finds my name on her floor plan Josie comes in behind me with Jax.
“Oh! Y/n you’re early!” She seems flustered.
“Yeah I didn’t think I would be,” it was only a few minutes to 6.
We make small talk while we’re led to the table, Josie’s eyes keep darting to where our table might be.
“Sorry I was hoping to do this before you came,” she says when we get there. There are name cards along the 7 seats and she picks the one in front of me. “I’m just gonna move mum to my other side so it doesn’t get weird. Which means she’ll be closer to dad but…I think he’s bailing since his girlfriend doesn’t want to do this.”
Josie shrugs, I know how she feels about her dad’s girlfriend. She begins explaining the plans she has to do dinner with her dad later this week and the more she talks the more I can tell that she feels awkward. And I hate that it’s because of me. At one point Jax and I catch eyes and pass an awkward smile.
“Josie,” I walk up to her fiddling with the name tags. She stops talking immediately. I grip her shoulders. “Thanks.”
“Sorry,” she whispers. I wrap my arms around her and she melts into me.
“Stop apologizing.”
“Sorry. I can’t help it. It’s a disease.”
We let go with a laugh and she seems more stable. “This is going to be fine.”
Famous last words.
It’s definitely not fine and very awkward. Jax ends up sitting in front of me, and even though Liliya’s name tag was beside mine it’s suddenly swapped as they slide in and Gray sits beside me. I guess it might be too awkward for her but not awkward enough to fit someone we both dated between us.
I can sense Michelle’s pinched face as she notices us sitting beside each other and I feel badly for Josie the most as she tries to play the gracious host. At one point I sense Jax laying a hand on her arm and taking over, asking Michelle questions about her yoga and getting her talking.
“Did you need more?” Gray turns to me with the wine bottle, it’s the second thing he’s said to me tonight. Otherwise he mostly just watches me talk and leans back enough when others are talking so I can be involved.
“I’m okay,” I whisper. I didn’t want to draw any attention while Michelle was talking. She hadn’t said a peep to me, even when Josie tried to involve us both in a shared memory. She continued acting like I was Casper the ghost.
I can feel Lily’s eyes on us as Gray offers wine, of course they would be. No wonder Gray barely spoke to me all night. Fuck me, what was I doing here.
Jax is a sweetheart, asking me about my job and encouraging conversation between the both of us. I’m so happy for Josie that she found a partner like him.
By the time dinner is over I mostly want to cry. I feel spent. But I also feel like I crashed an intimate dinner and everyone’s polite enough not to mention it. Despite Josie, I do actually regret coming.
As we pay the bill and shuffle out, Josie grabs my arm.
“So I have two friends where you can crash at their place or Jax can sleep over at mine and you can sleep at his or-“
“I think I’m gonna head back to the city.”
Her face falls. But it’s like she knew I was going to say that.
“Sorry Jo. I think you should come to the city next week—maybe visit your brother? And while you’re down we’ll do brunch then. I’m mostly free while I’m here. I’m just pretty tired and have to help Winnie with something tomorrow.”
“Really?” She says in the smallest voice I’ve heard out of her. Salt to my wounds.
“Yeah, I’m sorry. I know we were looking forward to getting time together.”
She juts out her lip and I’m reminded of the girl I met when I first started dating Gray. How she’d taken to me so quickly. How the whole family had. How things could end up like this.
And suddenly I see the future laid out in front of me. After tonight it would be hard to keep this relationship going—Josie and I. She’s just seen her mom be an unreasonable bitch for the first time, I can tell she’s been trying to compensate all night but the cracks won’t go away. It’ll always be a sitting duck between us.
We might try to stay in touch, maybe I’d reach out if I was ever in London or if she ever visited the west coast. But this would fizzle out.
She was still young and naive enough that her mom hung the moon and stars; mom’s beliefs were gospel, her opinions were rulings, and she’d just delivered my ultimate sentence: I was a black sheep to the family. How could sweet Josie walk through a mess like that?
“I’m so proud of you,” I tell her as I fight tears. “Congratulations again and thank you for inviting me.”
“Thanks. And you don’t have to be so nice. I know it was kind of a shitty invite.”
“No,” I insist. “I loved being here. I don’t regret showing up for you. I can’t wait to hear what you get up to.”
“I’m going to make sure to make it to the city next week,” she squeezes my arm. “We’ll see each other soon.”
“Exactly,” I look over at the rest of the group, where her boyfriend waits for her. Her family. “And I really like Jax, so good on you for that.”
“He…” she twists her lips, swallowing what she was going to say before vomiting it out. “I always aspired to have a relationship like yours and Gray’s. I never wanted to settle for anything less so that’s…that’s why Jax.”
“Hm I think you made us the bar and you leapt over it babe,” I wrap my arms around her again. I ache with the loss of what we used to be.
“See you soon,” she says before she drags herself back to the group.
I stand off to the side, awkwardly ordering an Uber. The group begins to walk the opposite way waving bye to me. I breathe easier without the weight of them around.
As I tap my foot in anticipation of the ride to the station arriving, I feel a hand tap my shoulder.
“Y/n,” it’s Gray. “Hey I…I just wanted to say something before you left.”
“Oh. Hey yeah. Shoot.”
What was it with everyone wanting to say something to me.
“Uh…ok give me a minute,” he laughs in the way I know to mean he was feeling nervous. “I just sort of jogged back impulsively.”
“Yeah well you have,” I glance at my phone. “4 or so minutes.”
“Damn,” he ruffles his hair. “Alright. I think I just wanna say sorry.”
“Oh.” That was it. Everyone had something to say to me and the something was apparently sorry.
“Yeah I’m sorry. I…when we broke up I was so upset and caught up in my own head. I blamed you for everything. I think it only hit me when you just up and moved out of the country how things actually went down.”
I hadn’t told anyone but Josie that I was leaving.
“Yeah you were just like gone.” He continues. “I guess a part of me thought we’d get some space, maybe circle back later…”
“You really betrayed me,” I remind him.
But even I know what he means. He hurt me bad and it might be crazy stupid but on some level we were both aware we were in an ugly place and maybe with some space we might come back to the place that was good for us again. Maybe bump into each other one day, strike up a conversation, find there might still be a small amount of love left. Enough to water and grow again.
“I know,” he sighs. “I know. I hate that I hurt you like that. I regret…I actually don’t really hang out with that group of friends as much anymore. I sorta have myself to blame but I didn’t like who I was with them.”
I listen, letting him speak. It hurt too, knowing this was the Grayson I had fallen in love with. Kind and supportive, and now apparently he’s learned to communicate. Maybe that was a Lily thing.
“I guess,” he blows the air out of his cheeks. “I want to say I’m really truly sorry. I missed you a lot after you left. Nothing was the same and life was fucking hard. I wish things didn’t end the way they did and I stayed mature but I was just jealous and angry.”
I nod to acknowledge what he’s saying and watch him take a breath to continue.
“And I always appreciated how you never let us shake your relationship with my sister because she bloody loves you—I don’t think how mum treated you was right today but I never really understood her in the first place. I’m sorry about that.”
“Yeah,” is all I can manage without making it obvious how emotional this was all making me. How one year could make me feel like a completely different person. How this man I loved, and still love in some way, could stand in front of me talking about us as something in the past. Because we were. Long past.
My phone dings with a notification that my ride would be here. We glance down and out into the street.
“Anyway,” he swallows. “I just wanna apologize. And say I genuinely hope you find love y/n. Love that’s as fierce and loyal as you are. I hope you can forgive me one day. And I hope you’re successful as hell in whatever you pour yourself into.”
“Thank you Gray,” I want to say I was sorry too. For what it was worth. But my car pulls to the curb.
I wave at the driver to let them know I’d ordered it and we walk the few feet to the back door.
I face Gray and open my mouth to say it. Say something more: how I appreciated his words, how I was sorry for how things ended too, how I hope he is happy. But nothing comes out of my mouth. I just stare at him, my eyes welling with tears instead.
Gray holds out his hand and I look down at it. I knew those hands well and it’s like walking into a place you used to frequent in the past and have memories rush towards you as you remember: those hands held me and wrapped around my own and comforted me, they made me food and stroked my hair, and carried my bags when they got too heavy. They once wore an engagement band I gifted, they once held a small box with a life-changing question I had said yes to.
Now it was just a hand.
I clasp it and he squeezes.
“I know,” he says, his eyes trained on my watery ones. He squeezes again and lets go.
I rush into the car, those two words nearly cracking me in half. I wave goodbye through the tinted window and feel a wave of despair that pulls me down into the depths of darkness.
Too much was happening at once.
My emotions spiral out of me and I feel alone in this foreign country; I needed comfort where none could be found.
I don’t mean to. Or maybe I do. But on the train back to London I text Harry: is it too early to cash in on the drink?
His response is immediate: no, I was waiting for this text last night
I smile, despite myself.
Can I come over? I text with shaking hands.
H: For drinks?
Y: For drinks
H: Ofc.
***
The taxi drops me in front of the familiar building. I feel an echo of anxiety pierce through me as I go through the familiar doors. I nod at the concierge, the night replacement was new and I’m grateful nobody can recognize me making this potentially stupid decision.
For a brief second I wonder if Harry had other plans tonight but decide not to overthink it. He’d invited me openly. And maybe I was making a decision based on sadness and loneliness and grief and needing to be wanted but I make it. And I would make it like a grown woman—ready to accept the consequences.
I didn’t want to go back to my lonely hotel room. I didn’t want to call anyone and talk about what just happened. I didn’t have words. My body was taking the beating, feeling everything under the sun and now bruised and battered for it. I just wanted my body to forget that. And there was only one person in this godforsaken city that could help.
I’m let up to the penthouse and I forgot it had a distinct smell, wood-like and something indescribable. Weird that it felt comforting.
“You made it,” Harry comes into view in a simple pair of shorts and a long-sleeved white tee pushed up to his elbows. It’s the sleeves that really do it.
“I did.”
I leave my bags beside the elevator next to the umbrella stand, keeping my eyes on him. He doesn’t take his off mine either. I’m glad he doesn’t. Now I know he knows we both said drinks but meant something more.
He reaches out for me before I even get to him, and I know I would think about that later. A lot. But right then in the middle of his entryway I wrap my arms around his neck and lean up on my toes to reach him too.
His lips are soft against mine and he tucks me into him, his hand splayed out on my lower back. It feels like a return to a lover, someone who knows you, like I would’ve thought seeing Gray again would feel. But it’s just Harry, and the thought of baseless familiarity freaks me out a little.
The next time I feel his lips they’re on my jaw and neck and down to the base of my throat. He murmurs my name as he makes his way down and my body reacts immediately. He takes me by the waist and backs me up against the nearest wall, and I have a feeling I might fall.
I had made the conscious decision to walk into the devil’s lair because it was the only place I could get what I needed.
My fingers dig into his shoulders. My body wants this. Every part of me wants to pull him close and hold him and never let go. I wanted all of it tonight.
But I am so tired.
I put a hand on his chest and press gently. I can feel the warmth of his skin, the firmness of his muscles and the beat of his heart as he pauses.
“Sorry, I should have started with a hello. That was too fast was it?” He whispers, looking me straight in the eyes.
I have a million answers, but nothing comes. He puts his hand over mine and I feel it as a shiver runs up my spine.
"Is this too fast?" he asks again, and I hear the worry in his voice.
I shake my head.
He gives a breathy laugh, "Then tell me."
"I think I-“
“Don’t,” he covers my mouth with a laugh. “Please please. Don’t think.”
I smile under his palm and he drops his hand, I can tell he’s proud of lightening the moment by the sheen in his eyes. The moment is tender in a way that takes me back.
He brushes back my hair and kisses my forehead. I close my eyes, breathing in his cologne.
“That’s not where I want to be kissed,” I tell him.
“Then where?” He plays along.
“Anywhere but there.”
He kisses my nose. “There?”
“Not there,” I open my eyes to look up at him. “I’ll have you know that was very snotty just an hour ago.”
He groans, “you really have a way of taking the desire out of a situation.”
But his brows furrow and he watches me even closer.
“I don’t want to talk about it,” I respond to his unasked question.
With that statement he takes a painful step back and I nearly slide down the wall without his support.
“What?” I ask.
“We should take that drink first.”
I feel the loss of his body pressed against mine, I realize miserably.
“What do you mean? I thought the drinks were just an excuse?” I ask.
He laughs a little, “Maybe tonight, but I really did want to have a drink with you. And talk.”
“Harry,” I groan. “I’m all out of talking tonight. Truly.”
“As much as I want to say forget talking and take you to bed I need to do this…just follow me,” he leads me and my flushed body through to the main living area which I was well familiar with but it’d gotten a facelift. I make commentary on the changes and he tells me more about it as he pulls a wine he wants out for us.
“I changed things around a little after you left,” he says as he hands me the wine glass. “I needed it. The change.”
“Oh.” Is all I can muster. I follow him to the sofa, tonight he doesn’t leave as much space between us but it still feels like a weird parallel to the night I landed in the hospital; a confrontation with Gray leading me to wine with Harry. “Look Harry I don’t know if I can do this.”
“Why not?”
“I…I’m at minimal capacity right now I just-“
“Just let me talk then.”
“Why does everyone want to talk!”
“I need to tell you what I should have said a long time ago and I want to apologize-“
“You already did-“
“Properly.”
I cross my arms and sigh.
“Y/n bloody hell I forgot how quickly you can get under my skin.”
“So this isn’t a great thing then.”
“Y/N,” he says my name like a warning and I want to comply. I roll my eyes and knock back my glass of wine, the buzz from the glass at dinner has long since worn away.
“Part of me wants to top you up but another part remembers what happened last time.” Harry eyes me.
“No I’m okay with just one glass. Drinking when I’m upset doesn’t end well.”
“Yeah…I don’t want you concussed on my watch again.”
“No we don’t want that,” we smile at each other, a soft and sentimental smile that gets the anxious stuttering of my heart to calm down a little. He just wanted to talk, so what?
But the anxious voice runs through the scenarios he might want to—his recent text, or something I did as his PA he wants to take up now. Gah.
“I really have missed having you around,” he says softly.
“Didn’t feel like you would with how you treated me.” I raise my brow.
“I know.” He pauses then mumbles something before talking to me directly. “You must have heard about the PA before you? Maybe from Riley?”
“Kind of.”
“Kind of?”
“Hmmm this feels like a trick question.” I say but he tells me he just wants to know what I knew. So I rip the bandaid off. “You had a fling with her.”
He hangs his head back over the seat of the sofa and sighs. “I knew that piece of…Riley makes me really mad when I think about him sometimes.”
“Does he?” I raise my brow. “I can think of someone else who makes me madder.”
“I know that’s supposed to be me. And I don’t know what to do about that except come clean right now.”
“And why is that?” I ask. “Coming clean? I came here just to get distracted in bed with you. I never thought I’d live to see the day where a guy like you wants to talk instead.”
“Y/N,” he says with such an intense look my way my stomach flips. “Trust me. I want to have you in my bed more than you do. But I told myself if that day ever somehow happened it would be after this.”
I shrug, let him continue. In reality his words make me weak and I can’t speak. Which kind of annoys me—why did he have such a strong pull over me? How did he so easily admit he’s thought about me, about having me in his bed!?
My heart flutters amongst other things.
I remember a brief conversation I had with my mom last year when she asked me why I wasn’t putting myself out there and dating again and I told her I just didn’t have the heart for it. She had said it seems I left my heart in London—my passion and my heart. Sitting here with Harry stirs something inside of me, scares me, and I want to distract that with more wine. But I manage to control myself.
“I was fairly new to the industry when I hired Riley and it was his second proper job or something so we were both a bit young and we ended up being friendlier than we should have.” Harry starts. “But he was great at his job and never gave me any issues. I stayed naïve that people in this industry would look out for my best interest-“
“That’s really naïve,” I can’t help but comment but he throws me a look and I zip my lips. “Sorry.”
“I was lucky that the first few relationships I built as I got my foot in the door were genuine but I realized too late that it wasn’t a norm. Everyone wanted a piece of me and they all wanted me to be someone else. Some angle. Shit hit the fan pretty quickly. So when I needed more help I decided to create a new role for Riley and hire a PA. She was seasoned and came highly recommended.”
I nod along to his story.
“Long story short, she started out good but she kept trying to get me alone and get me talking. And back then after being friends with my old PA I didn’t have the wisdom of setting boundaries—don’t give me that look.”
“What!” I raise my hands. “I’m just listening.”
“You’re judging me.”
“Just continue,” I encourage. I was judging a little.
“Anyway, where I thought we were just friendly she thought I—I dunno I was falling for her or something. And one night she was working late so she had dinner here. She kept refilling my drink I didn’t realize she wasn’t drinking as much. It’s not much of an excuse but by the time she came onto me I was pissed and it didn’t take much.”
He continues the story like it was nothing but his voice catches a little and he doesn’t look me in the eye. My insides grow colder. I want to reach inside of him and hold the old Harry, the naive one who didn’t know better.
“Please don’t feel bad for me,” he cuts my sympathy short. “I didn’t turn into a great person after that. Especially with how I treated you.”
“That’s right.” I pretend to be unaffected by his story like he wanted me to be. But it’s near impossible.
“So that’s how I decided it was best for me to play the asshole. I couldn’t fire her after that—it would look awful and she could report me and screw me over. But I could make working for me a nightmare and so I did. A few months later she quit.”
He sighs and takes a swig of his wine, “Then you came along and I thought ‘I should play the asshole from the get go.’ I had gotten good by then at compartmentalizing my personality in the industry.”
“Hmph,” I raise a brow. He has the decency to look embarrassed but he continues.
“But the more time we spent together the worse I felt. You were nothing like the previous PA. You were genuine and down-to-earth. Pretty fiery but I wouldn’t find that out until later,” he grins. I roll my eyes. “I tried to ease up a little but things kept happening to push me back into the asshole box.”
“But you were so snappy, and a dick.”
“I know. I didn’t know how to tell you you worked too hard without dropping the asshole act and making you feel even shittier.”
“What do you mean?”
“I had to be the villain in your story-“
“What?” What was he talking about?
“Yeah like, you were working all the time even though there were some times I told you to wrap it up for the day.”
I remembered that, thinking he was kicking me out.
“But you took the job so seriously. I appreciated everything you did but you were dogged at making sure you did the best at any cost.”
“What do you mean? At any cost?” I ask, a cold sensation running down my back.
“For example take that one time a few months in when I asked you to call me because you forgot to order wine. You bloody came all the way back to hand deliver it-“
“Yeah because you said to call you and you were gonna be pissed if I-“
“No, y/n,” he lays a hand between us. “I just wanted you to call to know where you usually ordered from so I could order that for myself. You weren’t in any trouble! But I could only blame myself for playing the hard asshole too well.”
I think about that night, Josie’s birthday party. How I left early and upset Gray. How I didn’t need to but I had been following the Dos and Dont’s list.
Shit, the lists. They were added onto by the last PA who, now I know, was having her life made into hell just so she would quit. Some of those lists were on an extreme I didn’t even have to follow. Fuck. That was on me.
My face must be a painting of regret because Harry apologizes again.
“I’m sorry but I didn’t want you to…I just felt like I had to play the villain so you could do what you had to do. So you could continue hating me and we could establish the clear boundary.”
“Right.” I have a bitter taste in my mouth.
“But I genuinely liked you, I thought you were funny and sensitive-“
“You don’t like my sensitivity.”
“I do. I just hated how angry you were-“
“Because of you.”
“I know. I created a monster, I’m Frankenstein.”
“Damn straight.” I agree and we pause a beat before laughing.
“Anyway,” he continues. “You were funny and sensitive and resilient, passionate and smart, and you cared so deeply. It was rare meeting people like you in this field. I wanted to wrap you in bubble wrap but I think I shattered you instead. I’m sorry for the way I just let my past colour your time here. I feel like you left because of me-“
“It was really a lot of reasons.”
“I know but I was part of that and I felt no good. After you left I was a miserable son of a bitch for a while. I couldn’t even enjoy my holiday because I kept thinking of you. I was miserable so I barely even said goodbye—I didn’t realize you were going to run away so far. But I also didn’t want to say goodbye because I was scared I would convince you to stay by spilling my truth.”
His words sit on my chest and they slowly sink down to my stomach. I don’t know what it meant, what he wanted me to do with this confession. It’s too much.
“Mostly,” he continues, shifting closer to me on the sofa. He lowers his voice, “Mostly I’m sorry about Barcelona.”
I flush at the mention of it. At the heat and passion from that night. His eyes roam my face.
“I’m not that guy. I should have treated you nicer, should have been the one to keep my patience.”
“I didn’t make it easy,” I admit.
“No,” he chuckles. “You really fucking did not.”
We smile.
“But you’re so much more than anger y/n. I could barely sleep that night, I kept regretting giving into the anger and not being slow and soft with you the way you deserve. I regret it all the time.”
His confession pulls the veil off my eyes and I see a sharper image of my past. Of everything. It all comes at once and I can’t sort through it in the moment but I know what I want to do.
I shuffle over until I’m up against Harry, I hold his face in mine and he cups my face in his hand.
“You drove me crazy,” I tell him. “Made my life hell.”
“I know. But you drove me crazy too. Nobody got under my skin like you did.”
“Same.”
His hand snakes down to my thigh and he nudges it over his lap so that I’m straddling his body. I feel vulnerable and scared—not the first time these emotions have coursed through me in this very room. But today I don’t feel powerless.
His lips are soft against my cheek, my jaw, down my neck. Unlike the first time he’s slow and deliberate like someone who’s waited so long to unwrap a cherished gift and can’t stand ripping even the gift wrap. He pushes my hair out of the way and trails his fingertips down the back of my neck.
“I’m glad you’re here,” he whispers in my ear. The more he talked the more nervous he was making me. I turn my head to capture his lips, run my fingers through his hair which is too short to really grasp. I missed his old hair.
We break apart for a breath and I can feel the tension. The desire to have him near clashing with the need to go slow. To savour this. Somehow we both feel it.
“We don’t have to do anything tonight,” Harry promises me, his finger trailing down my arm. “Just having you here is enough.”
Oh god. How did he know just the things to say. This man was way too suave. He really was the devil.
But I needed him. It’s scary to admit but I did. I wanted to be here, I really did. I needed to be in this moment with him. Fulfill some shut-out desire that had grown dusty in the corner of my heart.
“I want to do this.”
With a gentle kiss he gets us up and takes my hand. I feel myself being pulled through the living room and towards the bedroom. The sheets are cool, but not cold and when he crawls in beside me I forget that I had ever been anywhere else.
He’s attentive and deliberate and I’m buzzing with anticipation. I decide to pick up the pace, propping myself up to take off my blouse. I watch his throat bob up and down like he’s never seen me like this before even though he has. It’s endearing.
The way his hands fit in the curve of my waist makes it harder to breathe. He moves his hands up my torso and to the straps of my bra. He pauses, as if asking permission, and when I nod, he kisses me. He unhooks it and slowly slides it off my shoulders, eyes fixed on mine.
The intensity of his gaze is overwhelming.
I pull him close to kiss him again, and he pulls me under him so I can feel the full weight of him against me. This is what I needed. To be physically present and not stuck in the after tremors of the earthquakes of my past. Not that he wasn’t part of my past but this is different. A non-verbal agreement to just be present. I knew his ways with women, it could be a one-night thing and that’s what I needed.
But that’s why the moments of tenderness and adoration nearly take my breath away. I don’t know where to put these things.
He kisses down my shoulder while his hand trails down to my trousers. He hooks his finger into the belt loop and tugs gently, looking up at me for consent.
I nod.
He slowly takes them off, and when his fingers brush against my bare legs, my breath hitches.
It happens again when he presses his lips against my hip bone.
He stops for a moment, and I can almost see the cogs in his brain whirring.
He moves up to press his forehead against mine.
"I don't know how to do this right," he says quietly, and his eyes search mine.
“What do you mean?”
“This is always how I should have treated you,” he whispers. “I want you to know-“
“Harry,” I smooth out the lines on his forehead.
"No," he grabs my hand and kisses it. "I don't want you to feel like I don't care because I do. I don’t want to hurt you. I'm not good at saying these things. But I want you to know how much I value you. That I like you as a person. I respect you. I want you to be okay.”
“I-“ who was this Harry, seriously!? “I get it. I’m okay. I am.”
He smiles at me tentatively and my heart does a somersault.
I grab the back of his neck and pull him down, pressing my lips against his. I could taste the sweetness of the words he had said.
I tug at his shirt and it flies into the darkness of his bedroom. His skin is heated against mine.
It feels like an eternity before he finally reaches the band of my panties, and my heart thumps wildly.
"May I?" he looks up.
"Please," I whisper.
For the first time since I’ve met him he doesn’t make it about himself or what he needs. It’s almost intimidating how intense he is as he looks after me and it’s hard to reconcile this man with the man in my head. We’re of one mind and it’s like he knows everything I’ve been through in the last 24 hours; he just attends to my every need reminding me that I was here, right here, in his arms and in this body.
And it doesn’t go unnoticed.
“Are you staying the night?” He asks later with a final kiss to my shoulder.
“If that’s alright?” I ask. I didn’t want to be alone in a cold hotel room.
“I’d love nothing more.” He says earnestly.
Love. I brush the word away.
He warns me that he was a slug if I stayed and he’s not exaggerating, with his arm draped over me and tucked up against him he’s like a child with a plush. He falls asleep just as quickly.
I should too but can’t. I feel so intensely about this body laying beside me, I want to crawl inside of him, understand him, understand us and how this worked.
Or maybe I wanted to just understand me, and why I felt a piece of myself sliding back into place tonight. I had to be the most fucked up person in this city.
Instead of sleeping I lay awake thinking about everything and I can’t help it. I go over this morning—god it felt like weeks ago. Josie’s graduation. Josie. Gray. Even Michelle.
I feel slightly paralyzed by everything that transpired today—it truly felt like peering through a glass window into a life I used to have. I try to break open the glass, sort it all out.
On one side is me and everything I’ve done this whole year to move on from the crumbs of my life here in London. I don’t know why but I really did think that coming back I would be 100% untouchable by my past. I was an idiot for thinking that because I was bothered that Gray seemed to have a steady girlfriend. Why did I think anything would rekindle between us?
I dig deeper, did I even want that to happen? Or did I just want to prove to myself that I was the one Gray let get away because I was too scared to face the possibility that I was the one who let Gray get away.
But clearly something didn’t work with us, I think bitterly. A few months with his new girl and he found the balls to open up with me and communicate his grievances and his apologies.
Love that’s as fierce and loyal as you are, he had said. Was I too much for Gray? Is that why we were made to burn out? It hurt too that he had damaged all my relationships I made in my life here in London only to cut those same people out of his life immediately after I left. The more I think about it the angrier I feel.
And his mom, I still feel bruised by her acting like she didn’t even know me. It stokes the anger higher. Her own son has called her crazy on multiple occasions, I was always nothing but kind to her. Gray was the one who put the final nail in our coffin yet the woman who called me her daughter and claimed to love me had been cruel. Even in the face of getting along for Josie’s sake she had put her petty feelings in the forefront.
These people made me so angry.
How did I ever think I could rekindle anything with Gray? As much as I was to blame, I realize, Gray couldn’t even be kind in the end. Just because the year apart was good to him didn’t mean he would still be good for me.
I think about the man laying beside me, in a hypothetical situation if things got ugly I instinctively want to say he would be cruel too. But I have to push past the persona he claimed to have put up and think about the glimpses of the man I saw underneath. Something tells me he would be just as fiery in letting me know how he was feeling. But with his recent apologies I’m not as convinced he would go out of his way to hurt me again.
Even in the bar last night, I just assumed he called me Mrs. Duran to be cruel but he hadn’t known. Or when I had assumed at Josie’s birthday party I would be fired for forgetting wine because he was an asshole when really he just acted like one so I wouldn’t feel worse.
How many times had I judged people because of how skewed my own lens was? It’s a sobering reminder.
Josie’s face flashes through my mind and I tear up at knowing we were going to cut each other out. No matter how much we loved each other staying in touch at this rate was no longer sustainable. For her best interest.
I think of my younger brother back home, my older sister, our family of 5. When I went back home there was so much to catch up on and eventually, apologize for. I had missed out on so much of my family’s life because I believed I needed to leave to grow. Well, life sure handed me a lot of lessons but I needed to go back home to plant them and let me grow.
Harry stirs beside me, nuzzling my neck in his sleep. I feel myself go teary eyed for no reason.
I wondered if this was just a one-night thing. If we would see each other again while I was in London. Did I want to see him? My heart sings yes immediately.
Damn.
What was it about him that pushed my emotions to the highest highs and lowest lows. How did he know every button to push and every bruise to kiss. This had to be toxic, we couldn’t just take our great big baggage of a past and see each other casually while I was in London. It couldn’t be that easy.
What if it was, hope whispers. I squirm. Could I forgive Harry for everything he’d done?
“Y’sleeping?” Harry mumbles to my left. Shit.
“Yeah,” I say which invokes a throaty chuckle from him. I check the time, it was nearly 4. Double shit.
“Liar,” he tugs on my hips and I turn to face him. “Talk to me.”
I couldn’t. Half of my thought were about him. And how could I tell him I was thinking about my ex after spending the night with him. So I just shake my head.
“Please?” He brushes my cheek with his thumb. “You need to sleep.”
“I-“ I try to say I can’t but the words get stuck in my throat. The emotions of everything I’d been thinking in the last couple hours threaten to dislodge the words from my throat so I close my mouth. But it doesn’t work.
A sob bursts out of me and before I can reel it all in the floodgates swing open and it carries all the pent-up sorrow and confusion, grief and anguish I had bottled up.
Harry freezes for a moment, probably very confused to wake up and have me reacting this way. But he recovers and pulls me into his warm chest.
“What is going on in that head of yours love,” Harry murmurs. Love. I sob even harder.
He murmurs reassuring words whilst stroking my back and I cry an embarrassing amount in the same bed where just hours ago I was blissed beyond comprehension. Life moves fast.
Finally when I gain enough composure I lean away, covering my face because crying into him was one thing but seeing my ugly cry face was another.
“Here,” I feel his body move and then tissues pressed into my hand. I’m grateful for them but I wasn’t going to blow my nose here. I sit up and try to dry my nose. His hand reaches out and the tips of his fingers rest on my spine like he was tethering my lost body to him. Somehow even that is reassuring.
“Don’t go trying to kiss my nose this early on again,” I try to joke through a stuffy voice.
“I wouldn’t dare,” he tugs my arm a little and I fall back beside him. He holds me in both his arms and I watch in horror and affection as he kisses the tip of my nose.
“Stop being so nice,” I laugh and cry a little too.
“You’re actually complaining about me being nice?”
“No I just—I’m not used to it,” I press the tissue to my eyes again.
“Well get used to it,” he peels the hair off of my face and pushes it back. “I don’t want to be the one hurting you. I swear to never ever be the reason you cry like this to anyone.”
“Don’t say those sorts of things if you don’t mean it.”
“I do,” he caresses my face. “You’re breaking my heart y/n, I don’t know who hurt you but I never want to see you like this. Especially not because of me alright? I’m sorry if I ever-“
“Stop,” I put my hand to his mouth. Which is kind of gross since I just blew my nose but I’m pretty sure him kissing my snotty nose means he didn’t care.
“But-“ he says behind my hand.
“I’m embarrassed right now,” I admit.
“You have seen me in every compromising situation,” Harry says. “And we have been through too much together to be embarrassed right now.”
“Fine,” I sigh. “It is tiring.”
“Maybe you can finally sleep now that it’s…almost 5?”
“Sorry,” I sigh. “I hope you don’t have something early?”
“Nope,” he kisses the top of my head. “And even if I did it wouldn’t matter.”
So we both try to go back to bed and I manage to fall asleep, all of those tiring racing thoughts washed away by a good cry. I feel warm and cared for and vulnerable and protected. A stark change from how Harry has made me feel before. Maybe this was temporary or maybe this was the start of something new. I’m just taking it minute by minute while all I can think is Do I or Don’t I?
***
It’s my final week in London and if you’d asked me a couple weeks ago if I was looking forward to going back home I would have said without hesitation yes.
But that night at Harry’s and putting my past to rest brushes away an old and tired film I had been viewing the city with since I landed.
We had seen each other a couple times a week since—I’ve been cautious despite my body saying otherwise. There were many days I had been free but I had made up some excuse not to see him, I was scared of getting too attached and having to leave.
But I can’t deny how nice it was to be with Harry without any labels. Most of the time I went over to his, it was tricky going out somewhere too public and risking getting papped. Together we just talk about life and work, my life back in America and my relationship with my family, his life growing up and his relationship with stardom. We watch movies and listen to music and make jokes and I open up a little about what had been weighing on my mind that night.
Winnie teases me that I was lighter than she’s ever seen me, that London looked good on me. I tell her she’s crazy. But even Oretta admits it when Winnie brings it up to her.
Harry makes the effort to make up for how he acted until it’s not just words. I believe what he was saying. And I admit to my faults too.
We still get under each other’s skin.
The thing we argue about the most is an opportunity Harry tries to get me to sign off on. The link he texted me when I was in Cambridge was an upcoming single one of his friends was releasing and he wanted to get me to bid on executing a music video for it. I tell him he was nuts and that I had no experience, plus I had a job. But he persists. He thinks I should explore putting my creative skills to use and not just my organizational skills. The arguing continues.
I have a date with him tonight, at the same bar we bumped into each other that first night. I have a question I’d been meaning to ask him.
“You aren’t actually a regular here are you?” I ask when we’ve settled.
“Of course I am,” he says but I know he’s lying. I raise my brow and he looks everywhere but at me. “Fine. I’m not.”
“So how the hell did you end up here that night?”
“Coincidence.”
“Liar.”
“I’m an honest man.”
“Truth please?”
“You’re embarrassing me here let’s move on.”
“Nuh-uh,” I’m enjoying his bright cheeks and darting eyes. “Did you stalk me or something?”
“I…I knew this was a local spot for you. Or was.”
“Really? How?”
“You mentioned it a few times? And I dropped you off here once after work.”
He might’ve. I’d met many friends and especially Gray here. I motion for him to continue.
“I might’ve known you were in town, might’ve found out you were here and…”
“So you did stalk me,” I gasp. “Oh my god ladies and gents he is obsessed.”
“That’s a strong word.” He argues.
“You. Stalked. Me.”
“Oh fine, I’ll confess: I’m used to the stalkers and I thought it was high time I did some stalking and see what the fun was all about,” he joins in on making fun of himself.
“Someone get me a restraining order,” I say just as someone approaches our table with drinks. As soon as they leave we burst out laughing.
“So have you given the music video any more thought?” Harry asks as the evening continues.
“Can we not talk about this right now?” I ask.
“I just think you should give it serious thought. I know you want to go into PR, be somebody’s Graham, but you have a really good eye for this thing. Before you pursue what you think you want, try this out.”
“You’re one dude,” I say again. “Who believes I can do this. You want me to throw away the career I’ve worked on for years to dabble in this and potentially waste time instead of getting to where I want?”
“Firstly, if you love doing something it’s not time wasted. And secondly you only ever need just one person to believe in you, angel.”
His fingers brush mine on the table, the familiar electricity courses through me just through the small touch. And of course, his use of pet names always turned me to putty. I hated how malleable he made me.
“Consider it. Just write a proposal y/n, it’s not betraying Oretta or anything. I can talk to her if you want if they choose your idea.”
It was scary putting myself out there for something I didn’t believe in myself for. But my echoes of burnout grow towards the idea of doing something less demanding than being an assistant just like a sunflower to the sun. It basks in letting my creativity flow.
“I’ll think about it.”
“Not for too long,” he taps my fingers again. We were cautious about being too touchy in public, even in a place like this where people genuinely didn’t care who he was. “Proposal’s due at the end of next week.”
When I would be back home in America. Away from here. Him.
We hadn’t talked about it, if we would try to keep in touch. I can’t really imagine a long-distance thing with Harry. Not at this stage. Mostly we enjoyed being in each other’s company and I was scared forcing labels just because we would be apart would ruin this fragile thing.
“Fine.” He’d worn me down and I submit. “Fine I’ll get something in for you.”
He pulls back with a shocked expression. “Did I just convince the stubborn y/n y/l/n to do something she didn’t want to do?”
I scowl. “Don’t get used to it.”
“I won’t,” he laughs, waving his hands around him like he was fanning in an aroma. “I’m soaking this in though.”
“Whatever,” I say with a smile.
“You make me work hard,” he smiles back. “For everything y/n. That’s one of the things I l-I-that I really like about you.”
We ignore the near slip of something far too serious for what we had going. We move past it but it sets my heart racing.
“So this friend of yours,” I change the subject. “With the music video. Didn’t you guys have like, beef when you were on tour? All that article stuff?”
“You of all people should know not to believe what you see online. It was all manipulated and put out of context.”
“I know but you were all moody for all your shows afterwards. I remember Jeff and Graham complaining. I assumed the articles had worn you down a bit.”
He raises a brow like he’s waiting on me to figure something out.
“What?”
“Really? You think it was the artcles?”
“Well what else happened that-“
Oh god. Was I that stupid?
Of course it wasn’t the articles, it was me! Us.
A smile stretches over the contours of his face as realization dawns on mine, “Twice in a row I’ve got you today, I should buy a lottery ticket.”
“I’m off my game today is all, don’t get used to it.”
I can’t believe it. Not that I didn’t believe Harry after the last few weeks but I—that night—really meant that much to him that his feelings over it had affected the rest of his tour? I had affected his tour?
“Why didn’t you say anything if it was weighing on you so much? If I recall I tried to talk to you a couple times.” I ask.
“What could I say,” he snorts. “You were engaged and my loss of control was why you cheated. Then you were quitting and I knew if I said anything you might have stayed. I didn’t want to keep you where you didn’t want to be.”
His words tug at my heart. He really had thought up a storm.
“Harry,” I lean back. “Gray and I broke up before I joined you guys on tour again. We weren’t cheating.”
His forehead creases, “What?! But you were together at my London show. I thought you two broke up after you moved back home?”
“No,” I guess in the last few weeks I’d just mentioned we broke up a long time ago. He didn’t know any specifics. “We were fake-together because he hadn’t broken the news to his sister then. But that’s why I was all…y’know in Barcelona-“
“Fuck me,” he groans. “No wonder you thought I was an ass for pulling you away-“
“Well you were-“
“Yeah alright-“
“Why did you really pull me away though?”
“I…I was feeling a bit possessive.”
“What?”
I wasn’t expecting that to come out of his mouth. He smiles sheepishly, “I thought we already came to terms with that.”
My stomach does a few somersaults. Until tonight I don’t think I’ve really focused on the magnitude of how Harry felt back then. Parts of my mind were still remembering him as a prick just because it was easier to remember my side of things. But this spins things in a brighter light.
“I was just your assistant though.”
“Y/N,” he tilts his head to the side. “Did I not already tell you what I thought about you that night in my flat?”
“Yeah but-“
“I’d never met anyone like you, I really liked you. I couldn’t have you though and I had to push you away constantly. And that drove me a bit crazy sometimes.”
I let out a noisy breath, wondering if how he felt about me was just as intense now as it was then. A part of me knows it must be. Feelings like that didn’t fade. But here I was, barely knowing what it was I felt for him. All I knew was that it was nice when we were together.
Why me, I want to ask. But I hold back. It wasn’t a question I could ask my ex-employer current-lover part-time-asshole.
“Sorry,” he apologizes. “Was that a bit strong?”
“No,” I sigh again and he laughs. “Fine. A little. But it’s fine, I’m okay.”
“Okay,” he believes me. “So you broke off your engagement and didn’t tell anyone?”
“Kinda, we weren’t in a place we could come back from. We decided that mutually after things blew up. He didn’t even know I was leaving the country actually.”
Harry whistles. “You ran out on all of us.”
I scratch the side of my head, “Maybe?”
“Well I’ve enjoyed having you again, here.” He says with sincerity. “I’m really relieved to be able to get to say everything I wanted to your face.”
I agree. Neither of us mention I was leaving later in the week.
Even by the night before I’m leaving London we still hadn’t discussed a thing. But there’s a heaviness to us as we have dinner at his, as we pretend to watch a movie only to cuddle on the couch. We lay there facing each other and I trace his eyes, his nose, his wonderful mouth. It’s so odd to me that this was the same Harry Styles performing in sold out venues and on the walls of teenage bedrooms. That I got to have him in these quiet moments and be present.
I feel so grateful for this. That I didn’t have to carry around these draining stories within me anymore, that it felt like it happened to someone else. In a way even if nothing came from all this, I got closure. I was able to move on now.
I imagine my heart and it feels like when you take a stroll mid-March and realize nature was healing from winter’s blues. Warm and blooming the earth was growing again—my heart was growing stronger. Now the idea of a date or a partner didn’t seem so daunting and exhausting. I would never have guessed that it would take the man who almost broke me to come into my life again for me to see how to fit those pieces back in place again.
“I don’t know what I’m gonna do not having you in town anymore,” his lashes flutter as I run my hand through his hair. It was still shorter than I was used to but it had grown in the last three weeks.
“Oh you’ll be fine,” I say. “I’ve worked on your schedule before: meetings and studio sessions and photoshoots and interviews.”
“A busy life isn’t always a full one,” he whispers. And it’s the closest thing to a confession we were going to get to. I cover his mouth with mine and we indulge in each other one final time.
There is a symphony of unexpected but undeniable intimacy woven between the beats of our entwined hearts. I know I would probably never feel this way with anyone and I don’t think I’d want to. Being with Harry was passion. It was losing myself and finding myself at the same time. It was being vulnerable and guarded and cherished and known.
My flight out tomorrow is around noon but I can’t stay the night as I’d have to help Oretta in the morning to make sure everything gets to the airport in time. Harry walks me down to his lobby and we stand there for a few, just holding each other tight. He doesn’t ask me to stay and I don’t ask him to come.
“This isn’t goodbye y/n,” Harry says when we part. His hand rests on his heart. I know the feeling, mine aches so hard I want to press my hand to it just to tell it everything would be fine.
“No,” I shake my head. My eyes had been teary ever since he squeezed me to him. “We’ll talk soon.”
“You’ll be directing music videos soon.”
I roll my eyes, “I’m still working on the proposal.”
“I have a good feeling about it.”
“That makes one of us. But…thanks for believing in me.”
“Thanks for believing in me,” he whispers. “Even when you didn’t have to.”
I’m glad I did. The only time in my life not paying attention to the warning bells had paid off.
“I’ve been working with this new producer and he wants me to come out to a studio in Cotati?” Harry mentions. “How far is that from where you are? Are you still in m Burbank?”
“Burbank’s where my parents are,” I shake my head. I look up what he’s talking about and feel a thrill when it’s less than a couple hours. Still, I try to maintain neutrality. “A little over an hour?”
“Well,” he brushes my hair over my shoulder and keeps his eyes looking just over it. “Depending on what you’re doing—maybe if you’re free…we can see each other again?”
I would love that. My heart is bursting just thinking of getting to have him in the place I called home. Of this meaning something. Of him wanting to see me again.
“Of course if you have a boyfriend by then and he doesn’t want you to see me that’s…I mean, live your life and if it works out we-“
“Yes,” I cut him off. “Yeah. Let’s see but that sounds good.”
He meets my gaze and I laugh a little, he was nervous and that was rare.
“Good,” he smiles with. “Until next time.”
“Until next time,” I step into his arms and it’s a quick affair before he steps away. I turn to head out the door, shielding my eyes from him. Not wanting him to see that this was stupidly hard to say goodbye.
He waves me off and I head back to my hotel with a heavy heart. But I think about him asking to see me again. Who knows when that would be. And I know this wasn’t the end of our story.
***
I’m happy to land in SFO the following evening, happy to busy myself with Oretta’s business, happy to have Winnie chattering away. I spent parts of the flight I wasn’t sleeping working on my MV proposal and it awakens a familiar passion inside of me I’d been afraid I’d lost.
I send out a silent thanks to Harry for knowing what was good for me.
I think of Harry often, Gray even less until I don’t think of him at all. I dream of London weekly; I missed it this time around. And as life resumes again I anticipate the change I sense on the horizon.
So when life gives me lemons I stop asking Do I or Don’t I. If one thing the last year has taught me was I had to listen to my gut and look at the signs. I had to start asking what I wanted and go after it. Even though Harry and I barely talk, I remember the lessons he’s taught me.
I stop looking to others to make decisions. There’s no guidebook or lists to help me make my decisions either. I take deep breaths and I believe in myself.
I build a new life on the remains of my old. I don’t let it dictate what I did anymore, I simply leave it as the foundation to elevate me even higher. I reach for the sky with my feet planted firmly on the ground. And I grow with reckless abandon.
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#writingsfromhome#harry styles x reader#harry styles fic#harry styles#harry styles fanfic#harry styles imagine#harry styles angst#harry styles fluff#musician!harry#harry styles series#harry stylesxreader#enemies to lovers#dos and don’ts#this is DONE#I HAD THE MOST FUN WRITING THIS I REALLY POURED MY HEART INTO IT#IM SO HAPPY ITS DONE#AHHH#I LOVED WRITING THESE CHARACTERS#EVEN THE FRUSTRATING ONES#fic#<3#i considered an epilogue but firstly not enough space and secondly idk if this open-ish ending suited the series?#if you didn’t like the ending I’m sorry just consider the alternate ending to be right after the grad dinner#but listen distance and experience provides perspective so nobody stay mad#okk byee#love ya
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what were everyone’s reactions to el telling the fam that lovie was pregnant ?
i decided to use this ask as a gateway for a joint blurb post on how everyone found out so…
Luke was the first one to find out, which they tried to hide for as long as possible, because they really wanted to tell him with everyone else, but he found out on accident.
because it’s Lovie’s second pregnancy, her bump appears faster than it did in her pregnancy with El, so beginning to mid october, when she’s 3 months, her belly has already popped, but it’s small enough that she can hide it by wearing Jack’s shirts around the house and not wearing tight fitting clothing. which keeps Luke oblivious. until….
**
i sit at the end of the bed, sweatpants and a sports bra adorning my figure, showing off my 3 month baby bump.
my eyes track my husband as he gets ready for morning practice. it’s still too early for El to be up, but i can hear Luke clashing around the house, getting his gear together.
Jack crouches down in front of me, his warm hand pressing against the side of my belly. he leans forward, leaving a soft kiss on my bump, and my heart flutters at his gentle touches.
“love, you gotta finish getting ready for practice. Luke has knocked on the door twice now.” i remind him, running a hand through his wavy hair.
“i don’t wanna leave.” he groans, standing from his spot at the end of the bed. he holds a hand out for me to latch onto, pulling me up from my sitting position and into his arms.
“you’ll be back in a few hours.” i laugh. “and by the time you get back, El will be awake and bugging me about you.”
Jack chuckles and steps away from me, double checking his gear bag that sits on a chair in the corner of our bedroom.
i rest a hand on my small bump, looking at the full length mirror in front of our bed.
“Jack, let’s g-” the bedroom door swings open, and through the mirror, my eyes lock with Luke’s which widen at the sight of me and begin to flicker between me, my stomach, and his brother.
“what the fuck, Luke?” Jack huffs, moving to step in front of me, as if it’ll erase the sight of my protruding baby bump from his younger sibling’s mind.
“what the fuck, me? what the fuck, you!” Luke exclaims, pointing at his brother with a face of shock. “Lovie, you’re pregnant? does mom know?”
“Luke, we’re married adults that already have one kid, mom doesn’t need to know everything.” Jack reminds him, rolling his eyes.
“so, no?” Luke raises an eyebrow, and i take this as my time to step in.
“Momma doesn’t know yet, Lukey. we plan on telling her, Dad, and Quinn on the trip to Vancouver at the end of this month.” i explain, stepping out from behind Jack, to show myself to brother-in-law.
“we were gonna tell you there too, but you don’t know how to knock.” Jack scoffs and i reach back to smack his chest, making him pout.
“was this one planned?” Luke eyes my bump warily, as if at any moment the baby could just pop out.
“yeah.” i nod. “we’ve always talked about having our kids 2 years apart, like you guys, and with El’s second birthday in March, we knew we should start trying. we didn’t expect it to happen on the first try though.”
Luke’s face contorts, his lip spreading in a wide smile, and he steps forward, pulling me into a tight hug.
“congratulations, you guys.”
“thank you, bubba.” i pull back, watching as Luke claps my husband on the back.
“how far along are you?” he asks, poking my bump with an index finger. Jack swats his hand away from my belly, rolling his eyes again.
“14 weeks. so, 3 months.”
Luke’s eyes get wide again.
“oh gross, you guys! my bedroom at the lake house was right next to yours.”
**
Jack and Lovie’s plan to tell Ellen, Jim, and Quinn pretty much blew up in their faces once they got to Quinn’s apartment though.
**
i wrap my coat further around myself in attempt to hide my growing baby bump. 4 months along and i’m already feeling like i’ll be back the waddling instead of walking any day now.
Jack holds El on his hip, letting her watch the glowing little elevator light that tells you which floors you’re on; finding amusement in her entertainment.
the elevator stops at the 10th floor and we all pile out. i trail behind my husband and his younger brother as we walk down the hallway, stopping in front of Quinn’s apartment.
it’s not but a moment after Luke knocks that Quinn answers the door, letting us in as he’s mid-talk with his mother.
he hugs Luke first, before moving onto Jack and pressing a kiss to El’s cheek, making her giggle from the scratch of his beard. finally, he gets to me moving in to give me a hug but i bypass him, pressing a swift kiss to his cheek before stepping away.
Quinn’s brows furrow, his nose scrunching in confusion as he eyes me while his parents join us from the kitchen.
“oh look at my baby!” Ellen calls as she steps in the room.
“mom, i’m not a baby anymore.” Luke huffs, but his mother rolls her eyes.
“i was talking about El.” she shakes her head, opening her arms for a hug from my daughter. Jack sets El down, but all the talk about babies must turn a light on in her head, because as soon as her feet land on the floor, she’s turning to me.
her little hands quickly rise and press against my bump and she calls out “baby!”
the room goes silent, Jack and i exchanging a flustered glance as Luke stares gobsmacked at his niece. Ellen’s eyes go wide as she rises to her full height, clutching Jim’s arm, and Quinn’s jaw goes slack as he look between my husband and my daughters hands.
“what?” Ellen is the first one to speak, a grin on her face.
“mommy, baby!” El shouts, hitting the bottom of my stomach now. i wince, causing Jack to go in full dad mode and scoop our daughter back up.
“what did we say, El? we gotta be gentle with mommy’s tummy.” he scolds, looking straight in her eyes. El pouts, her lips falling in an exaggerated frown, and she hides her face in Jack’s neck.
i can see the guilt in Jack’s eyes at the fact that he’s upset his baby girl, but i don’t a chance to comfort him before Quinn is speaking up.
“you’re pregnant?” he asks, excitedly, making his mother smack at his arm.
“let them say it themselves!” Ellen scolds her eldest son and i giggle.
“i’m pregnant.” i confirm. Ellen squeals, bounding over to wrap me up in a hug.
“oh honey, congratulations!” she pulls away her hands hovering over my bump as she looks up at me for approval. at my nod, her hands drop down to touch my belly, a large smile gracing her lips.
Jim and Quinn say their congrats to Jack before Ellen moves over to her middle son, allowing her husband and eldest to get their turn with me.
“congratulations, hun. can’t wait to spoil the little one.” Jim tells me, wrapping me in a bear hug.
“you already spoil the first one, i think Jack might not be too happy if you spoil this one too.” i laugh, pulling back to let Quinn hug me.
“he’ll get over it.” Jim shrugs, stepping back.
Quinn looks at me with a fond smile first, before his arms wrap around my shoulders, his hand running over the back of my head.
“congratulations, sis.” he whispers in my ear, swaying our bodies back and forth just slightly.
“thank you, Quinny.” i grin, pressing a kiss to his cheek.
“this one planned?” he asks as we pull apart.
“why do you guys keep asking that?!” i chuckle, hitting his arm. “yes! this one was planned, you asshole!”
he laughs, shrugging his shoulders. “just had to check.”
Jack, Luke, and i shed our coats and the family moves to the living room, sitting all around on Quinn’s furniture.
“so, how far along are you?” Ellen asks excitedly, her fingers drumming together as i dig through my purse for a sonogram picture.
“four months.” Jack tells his mother, watching as her face lights up when i hand her the photo.
“not too long until you know the gender.” Jim chimes in, looking over his wife’s shoulder at the photo.
“that appointment is in a few weeks.” i tell them, smiling as Ellen hands the photo to Quinn, who grins down at the black and white picture.
Ellen looks between me and Jack, who plays peekaboo with the almost two year old that sits on his lap. “oh, i’m just so happy for you two.”
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