#and with this i go to bed good niGH T
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𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐀𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐓…
Blitzø coming into your house out of nowhere as if it was normal.
It’s been a while since you started working with I.M.P and you couldn’t say anything negative it was quite the gig and it wasn’t like the missions sometimes weren’t fun to do.
It was one of the large amount of jobs that you had that actually gave you something to think about instead of your shitty life. You had great friends too, Millie and Moxxie were great Loona, well you were getting into that. But Blitzø was definitely the one that was the closest to you.
And you meant it literally and metaphorically. Ever since you entered I.M.P you’ve been building a pretty good friendship between the two of you. And he sometimes even got off the hip of Moxxie and Millie to your hip which the couple noticed almost straight away. Of course Moxxie was happy about this and relieved while Millie just smiled talking about it being her boss was making more friends. You didn’t mind it, before this job you were a full time loner. You didn’t had much friends so you had your house all for yourself, everyday.
But that changed when one day you woke up at the middle of the night hearing some noise coming from your dinning room. Robbers you thought, as you reached for your nigh drawer and pulled off a knife you had there just for this type of cases. With smooth movements you approached the hallway as silent as you could. This wasn’t a situation that surprised you since your landlord and the guards at your apartment complex were total lazy asses, so it was just about time someone snuck up and tried to steal something.
Looking by the frame of your wall you looked to see the silhouette of an imp roaming through your fridge. You kinda felt bad, maybe the imp didn’t had any food and wasn’t in the position to buy any. But from all of the apartments it had to be yours, well you weren’t letting that little thing steal anything from you as you approached their back. And unconsciously holding your breath you raised you knife ready to stab them before they moved rather quickly taking your arm and pinning you against the wall.
You hissed at this as they let go as quickly as they noticed your face, turning around you expected a strange face but you were met to…. Your boss?
“Boss? What the fuck are ya’ doing here?” You lowered you knife while you saw how he avoided looking into your eyes and fidget with his fingers. “Wait, wait have you been entering house before?” You frowned, the thought of him going into your home before it didn’t bother you as much like a normal person would it just confused you why.
“Hey, look I don’t mind just.. Warn me the next time you come in here. You got me thinking you were a robber or some shit.” He chuckled while sighed and yawned, looking over tot he fridge to se wit was still open.
“Did you took anything?” he avoided eye contact again, making you frown. “Blitz..” you walked over to your fringe, strange, nothing seemed wrong. “You ran out of butter.” You heard him say and you checked, did he ate the fucking butter?
“How did you- never mind I don’t even want to know.” You sighed and closed the fridge door, you checked the clock in the wall and it said 2:36am. Good dear it was late, you grabbed Blitzø’s hand and walked him to your bedroom. “Why are you taking me here?”
“Hey, you wanted to crash in here I’m not going to judge you. My bed is not that big so careful you don’t fall.” You lifted the sheets and moved closer to the wall so he could lay in that spot, he seemed a little surprised by this since Moxxie and Millie always threw him out in the nicest way they could. So he smiled and lay there besides you, pulling the sheets over him and getting himself comfortable.
after some minutes you heard low snoring sounds, that meant he was sleeping. Good, tomorrow was Saturday so it wasn’t like you got to get up in the morning and wake him up too. But your thoughts cleared for a second when you felt his tail make its way up to you thigh to then curl up in your whole leg. You chuckled a little and smile at this, it was cute you couldn’t deny it. So you returned the favor by making your tail curl up in his, good now you two were even.
#helluva boss#helluva boss x reader#helluva x reader#helluva blitzo#blitzo x reader#helluva loona#helluva millie#helluva moxxie#moxxie#thinking about#just something cute#x reader
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The Roses
You can hear the screams as you sit on the couch in Harry’s dressing room. For some reason they were unnerving, but lately so many things felt out of place. All the talk about your parent’s murders was starting to take a toll. You normally love the screams and murmurs from the crowd, but tonight it’s setting you on edge. You run your fingers through your hair and cover your ears as the floor starts shaking during Kiwi. It’s his first night of the New York City residency and you couldn’t be more proud, but truthfully, you’ll be happy to be home, warm and in bed with him. The door flies open and someone from the crew comes in with fresh bottles of water and some fruit. You’d ducked out before the encore and while you know he’s missing your presence, you just need a moment. You meander to the table and grab a bottle of water and hold it to your cheek.
He rushes into the room, throwing off his jacket, breathing heavily as he kicks off his shoes. He’s on an adrenaline high and oblivious to your mood. He smiles when he sees you and kisses your temple. “Gonna go jump in some ice then a shower, ya gon’ wait fo’ me or head on home?”
You smile wanly. You want to go home but know he’ll be disappointed. “I’ll wait.”
“Ok, be back soon, yeah?”
You smile up at him. “Ok.”
He bounds out of the room and you lay back on the couch and close your eyes.
Your head rests on his jacket and you drift with the scent of him all around you. The shift of the once screaming sounds is now a shuffle and muttering and it lulls you. Those eyes...those plastic looking wide eyes stare at you, weepy and glassy and so...lifeless. They fill your head and you feel the need to open yours to make it go away, but you can't. You’re fixed to the sight, who's eyes are these? Why are they here? Why now? And why do they look just like mine? A thunderous knock at the door startles you awake, and you sit up straight, panting and shivering. Will these dreams ever stop? Why can't I shake this? You run your hands up and down your face trying to shake the fearful feeling. The knocking continues, then someone opens the door and you look up and find Mitch.
"Oh, hey, Harry in the ice?"
"Yeah," you say wrapping your arms around yourself.
"You ok?" Mitch says with a concerned expression.
You smile wanly. “Yeah, I’ll be fine, thanks.”
He furrows his brow. “Sure?”
You sigh. “No, but I’ll be ok. Thanks.”
Mitch knows the brush off when he hears it. “Promise you’ll reach out if you need anything, yeah?”
Tears gather in your eyes. “I will. Promise.”
He nods. “I’ll see ya later,” he says as he leaves.
You sigh and send a text to your therapist. You need help; you can’t go on like this. Everytime you close your eyes you see those eyes.
Harry finally comes back in wearing joggers and a T shirt. “Ya ready?”
You nod and get up and into his waiting arms. You sigh as he hugs you tightly. Just being close to him makes you feel better.
“Whoa, baby, tigh’ hug…’m no’ goin’ anywhere,” he teases as he steadies his feet because you’ve attached yourself to him.
“I know, just want you to hold me for a minute.”
He stretches his head back so he can get a look at you. “Baby, ya alrigh’?”
He did so good tonight and the crowd was crazy for him. You can’t bring yourself to ruin his high.
You plaster on a smile, but it doesn’t meet your eyes. “Yeah. I’m fine. You did so good tonight, it was amazing and the fans were on fire,” you say with as much enthusiasm as you can muster.
“Yeah, was a fuckin’ awesome nigh’. Still have a hard time believin’ ‘m playin’ the Garden.”
“Well, you are for many nights - sold out nights,” you say leaning up to kiss the side of his mouth.
He moves his head just enough to capture your lips and his tongue darts out to run along the seam of yours. You open immediately for him, longing for his taste, longing to be needed, to be held…to be wanted. His tongue tangles with yours as he opens his mouth to take in more of you. His hands slide up to your cheeks holding your head in place as he cocks his head to one side and slots his tongue deeper. “An’ I ge’ ta fuck ya in our bed tanigh’ an’ tha’s a nice change.”
“Mmmm…take me home. Have me in our bed.”
“C’mon then,” he says, grabbing your hand and leading you to the car. He gets in and you snuggle in next to him and he kisses the top of your head. You look tired and he wonders if you’ve been having trouble sleeping. He makes a note to ask you later. Right now, he just wants to feel your body pressed to his.
He thanks the driver as you exit the car and get on the elevator to go to your apartment.
All you wanna do is get snuggled up next to him. You do your nightly routine quickly and go to the window and look out at the city. You turn to check your phone and see a return text from your therapist with an emergency appointment for tomorrow morning. Great, I just have to get through tonight, you think.
He comes up behind you and wraps his arms around you from behind, kisses trailing down your neck. “Come ta bed, sweet Jezebel. Lemme show ya ‘ow much I love ya.” He leads you over to his side of the bed where he sits and pulls you to stand between his legs. He leans his forehead against your tummy, “love ya s’much,” he murmurs as he reaches under the hem of your tee to hold your sides. You thread your fingers in his curls and flutter your eyes and inhale deeply.
“I love you, Harry. Tell me you want me?” You meant it be a statement but at the moment it feels more like a question.
His head pops up, “God babe, scares me ‘ow much I wan’ ya. Can be thousands of people…,” he squeezes his fingers on your waist as you continue to run your fingers through his still damp hair, “… in a fuckin’ huge venue an’ all I can think abou’ is when’s the next time I get ta glance at ya… an’ then wonderin’ if everyone notices.”
Sliding you fingers one last time through his hair, you reach down and pull your t-shirt over your head and stand there in a simple pair of pink panties with a small white bow on the waist.
He leans forward and places a soft kiss just above your belly button. Your eyes fill with tears at the sweetness of his tender touch and you shiver.
“Aww, babe…” he says pulling at the waist of your panties sliding them down to your ankles.
“C’mere, lemme show ya ‘ow much I wan’ ya, ‘ow much I need ya, ‘ow much I love ya,” he says, pulling you on to his lap and settling you over his cock. “Feel ‘ow hard I am fo’ ya. ‘S’all fo’ you, ma Jezebel.”
You sigh and hug him tightly to you but you don’t dare close your eyes. He’s so warm and strong and you don’t even feel the tears as they slip down your cheeks.
He doesn’t say anything; he just holds you to him. He knows how difficult it’s been for you and he just wants you to feel better.
You pull back and kiss him and you sigh as he deepens the kiss, his tongue slipping in your mouth and tangling with yours. You just enjoy the feel of him as his lips and tongue move against yours. You smile into the kiss as he lays back on the bed, bringing you with him and you grind down onto his cock causing him to groan into your mouth. You pull back, breathless, and kiss his cheeks and then down his chin to his neck, enjoying the feeling of his stubble against your skin.
He pulls your mouth back to his and kisses you again before rolling you over and pressing himself against you.
You sigh in contentment as you feel him press you into the mattress, the weight of him calming you.
He works his way down your neck to your ear, laving your earlobe, his hand sliding down to cup your breast and pinch your nipple between his finger and thumb. You roll your head back and moan, only briefly closing your eyes as the sensation overtakes you. Immediately those glassy eyes appear and you shudder, popping your eyes open and shaking your head, trying to make the vision go away.
He stops to look into your eyes, “Babe?”
You plaster a smile though a tear rolls down the side of your face. “Don’t stop…,” you whisper covering his hand on your breast. You pull your knees up and rock your hips into him hoping to distract his concern.
He frowns, but places a kiss on your lips. The hand on your breast slides down your side and over between your legs and he runs his fingers up and down your slit. “Swee’heart, ya no’ wet? Ya ‘no we don’ have ta do this ‘f ya no’ feeling it,” he mumurs in your ear still kissing gently under your earlobe.
“No!” you protest more emphatically than you expected. “I’m sorry, please…make love to me…I-I…n-need you,” you whimper, “I need to feel w-wanted by you…wanna feel you inside me, please.”
“Ok, baby, don’ worry, ‘m no’ stoppin’,” he says running his nose up and down yours, eyes heavy-lidded staring gently into yours. His hand move your to cheeks. “Wha’ do ya need, love? Tell me…anythin’…” He licks your lips and nips at your bottom lip. “Ya wan’ ma mouth? Ma fingers? Lemme grab the lube fo’ ma fingers, yeah?”
You nod against his lips.
He moves over to open the drawer on the bedside table and you take a moment to scooch up on the bed and prop up on your elbows. You nibble nervously on your bottom lip, chastising yourself for not being able to focus.
He turns back and pops the lid and applies a dollop to his fingers. His eyes roll up to yours and he smiles tenderly. “Love ya, baby.”
“I love you, I’m sorry, dunno what’s wrong with m..”
“Shh-shh, nothin’s wrong, love. ‘S fine an’ normal, yeah?” he soothes just before his fingers run down to your hole, circling and dipping. He holds your stare and mirrors you biting his own bottom lip. His nostrils flare as he takes in a deep breath. “Feel so good ta me, love ya body s’much, ya perfect.”
You can’t deny how good it feels, you drop back to the mattress and stare at the ceiling as his fingers work their way inside, pumping and curling. God, it feels so good, you moan at the sensations. Your eyes roll back and the second your lids close, the darkness stays and you thank the gods that you can enjoy this. But the darkness doesn’t last long, those eyes flash through your mind, causing you to sit up immediately and reach for his shoulders. “Enough,” you say hastily, “Inside, just…want you inside, please.”
Something isn’t right and he’s concerned, but you’re pulling him to get him closer, like you need him as much as your next breath. Maybe she just needs me, maybe if I can just make her cum, she can relax a bit, he thinks to himself.
He sighs and grabs the lube, popping the cap and squeezing out another dollop and applying it to your sex. He grabs you underneath your knees and pulls you to him and positions himself at your entrance. “Ya ready?”
You nod, biting your lip. “Yes, please. I need you,” you breathe out, pulling on his shoulders.
“S’ok, ‘m here, righ’ here, ma Jezebel,” he says as he thrust forward and enters you.
He bottoms out and you gasp, your fingers digging into his shoulders.
“Mmmm…”
“Feel good?”
“Yes!” And it does. You roll your hips and moan. “Harry, oh god…”
He presses his lips to yours, kisses trailing down your neck and you turn your head to the side to give him more access and close your eyes and then you see those dead, lifeless eyes again and then the mouth opens in a scream. You cry out and you push his shoulder. “Stop! Stop! Please…just stop,” you sob out.
He pulls out. “Baby, wha’s wrong? Please talk ta me!” He says, laying down next to you and pulling you into his arms.
You’re crying, tears flowing down your cheeks. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
“Shhhh…s’ok.”
You wipe your eyes, look down to his still hard cock, and start to crawl down on him.
“No, Jezebel it doesn’ work like tha’. I need ya, no’ jus’ a fuck.”
“It’s not fair. Wanna make it good for you.”
“C’mere, baby, C’mere,” he says pulling you back up to him. “Tell me wha’s goin’ on.”
So you tell him about what you’re seeing when you close your eyes and the most recent development of the screaming face.
He sighs and pulls you closer. “Jesus, baby. Should’ve tol’ me. My sweet girl…wha’s the therapist say?”
“I texted her. We have an emergency appointment tomorrow morning. I just…I hate this. It’s not fair.”
He kisses you quickly. “I know, ma love, I know.”
“I know it’s got something to do with my parents, but there’s just not enough there for it to make any sense,” you say shaking your head in frustration. “It’s like they’re reaching out, I mean,” you look pleadingly into his eyes, "I’ve dedicated myself…my-my work on the podcast to finding some sort of closure…some justice, ya know, for-for these families who’ve been victims of crime and had their cases either fall through the cracks or-or dry up…I know I do this because…I think subconsciously it’s because my own parent’s murder just never had leads, or what leads it did have were dead ends. And I was so small, and Aunt Elizabeth and Uncle Albert did the best they could to follow up, but they lived in England and were suddenly thrust into taking care of an eleven year old. But I feel like I need to-to, I don’t know, at least put in the same time for them that I do for my other cases. I need this for them…” you run your hand up his naked chest to wrap your hand around his neck, “I need this for me…for-for…us…for this family we’re making together.”
He shakes his head and places a gentle kiss on the inside of your wrist. “I think this is comin’ up because we’re makin’ a family…I think ya mind is seein’ thin’s like Ron an’ Helen’s wedding an’ our attachment ta them, an’ then this,” he runs his finger around your engagement ring, “makin’ ya ma wife, givin’ ya ma name…’s all brought up ya connection ta them tha’s more personal than ‘s been before.”
You look to the side breaking his eye contact.
“No,” he runs the back of his fingers along your cheek, “Don’ close up on me…”
“I should’ve done something before now. Should’ve pressed the issue… But, I’m ashamed to say that I just…didn’t wanna remember, I didn’t want…” a tear slides down your already tear stained face, “to think about it…so I’ve just…I just kept that goddamn police report that I….” You pause and slam a hand down on the duvet, “Basically, I memorized, keeping me close but far enough away that it couldn’t touch me….Oh god, that makes me the worst person…the worst daughter, I mean, what the fuck is wrong with me…,” you turn over and bury your face in the mattress.
“Babe, there’s nothin’ wrong wi’ ya. Ya did the best ya could ta cope as a child an’ a young adult. Please don’ live in a world of regret, it’s no’ healthy.” He brushes the hair along the side of your face, pushing it back behind your ears, “Ya such a good person, s’ kind… an’ lovin’. Look at the goodness ya hav’ brought ta the lives of s’many others. You’ve brought s’much ta Gemma an’ Mum, the Chapmans…ta me. They’d be so fuckin’ proud of ya.”
You reach up to smooth your hand along his cheek, he turns his head to kiss the inside of your palm. “Hey, baby, I have somethin’ I wan’ed ta ask ya. How abou’ ya let me hire a private investigator ta look into the case? I mean, ya prolly know some PI’s tha’ have worked on the cases you’ve worked on…an’ I…I…jus’ think it’s time ta get someone workin’ on it. They could handle the communication wi’ Boston…tha’ would take a load off…an, baby, I jus’ think…maybe…ya treat this like ya next case on the podcast.” He searches your eyes and runs his thumb along your bottom lip, “Ya can think abou’ it, I don’ wan’ tell ya wha’ ta do, love, but ya fuckin’ good at solvin’ these cases, maybe, if the therapist thinks it’s ok, we jus’… work this case. I support ya 100%, wha’ ev-ah ya decide ta do, bu I think we should face this tagether…”
Your bottom lip quivers, “You said, ‘we’.”
“Well, yeah, babe, ’s you an’ me in eve’ythin’.”
You smile softly, “What do you know Mr. Harry Styles about solving crimes?”
“Know ma fiancée kicks ass at it, an’ I believe in her an’ trust her. I just wan’ her ta find her closure so her heart,” he places his hand over your heart, “can be free.”
A tear runs down your cheek and you close your eyes briefly. You open up and meet his eyes. “I want that so much. I want to remember the good times with my parents and I-I want to solve their murder. They deserve that.”
“Yeah they do an’ ya do too, Jezebel,” he says kissing your temple. “D’ya think ya can sleep?”
You sigh. You know that you won’t be able to. “No, I don’t think I can. I’ll stay with you until you fall asleep and then I’ll go to the living room and try and read.”
“I could stay up wi’ ya.”
You kiss his lips quickly. “That’s so sweet but my pop star needs his sleep. I do have a favor though,” you say, hand playing with the curls on the nape of his neck.
“Anythin’ Jezebel, ya know tha’,” he says, kissing the inside of your wrist.
“Would you come to my therapy appointment in the morning?”
“Of course, baby. Wha’ time?”
“It’s at 8 am. Is that too early?” You say, fingers going to your mouth.
He pulls your hand from your lips. “No, s’not ta early as long as I get some coffee. I’ll set an alarm.”
“Thank you.”
“Ya welcome.”
You smile a genuine smile for what seems like the first time in days. “I love you, Harry.”
“I love ya too, ma Jezebel.” He leans in to kiss you. The kisses are soft and open mouthed and you sigh.
“G’nigh’ Jezebel.”
“Goodnight.”
He rolls over and you scooch in close and snuggle into him. He grabs your hand and pulls it to his chest and you just hold him as he falls asleep. Once his hand falls to the bed releasing you, and you get up quietly and slip on a T shirt and leggings and go to the living room. You know you’re in for a long night but the thought of going to sleep terrifies you.
****the next morning***
You watch the sun come up from the living room. Somehow you’d managed to stay up all night. You were tired but ready for your appointment. You brush your teeth and hair and put the coffee pot on. You can hear Harry pad down the stairs.
He comes into the kitchen and wraps his arms around you from behind. “G’morning sweetheart.”
“Good morning,” you say kissing his neck. “You want coffee?”
He nods against your shoulder. “Please.”
You pour him a cup and you both stand against the counter sipping your coffee in companionable silence.
You sigh and nibble on your fingers as the clock ticks closer to 8.
“Ya nervous?”
You nod.
“C’mon, let’s get it over wi’ then.”
You sigh and he takes your hand and leads you to the office.
You both sit down on the couch and you start the video call. He grabs your hand as you’re waiting.
Dr. Freeman comes on screen. The sight of her in her signature red glasses soothes you somewhat.
You explain why Harry is there and exchange all the pleasantries and then she asks, “How’re you feeling?”
“I’m having trouble sleeping. Everytime I close my eyes, I see a woman’s face with eyes like mine and last night she started screaming. I can’t focus during sex and I just…I want this to be over.”
The doctor nods. “I know we talked about hypnotherapy. Can we try it? You may not be able to and that’s ok, but I’d like to try.”
“Yes, I’m ready.”
“I’ll need to be in person for that. Give me an hour and I’ll be there.”
“Ok.”
You disconnect the call and snuggle into him.
“Les’ order breakfast, yeah?”
You nod.
An hour later and you’ve had breakfast and are sipping your tea when Dr. Freeman arrives.
She explains that she needs a couch and a chair and you lead her into the living room. She has you lay down and try and relax to lead you through the exercise but it’s no use.
She asks you to sit up. “I’m afraid you’re not a good candidate for hypnotherapy. It could be the timing or just not a good tool for you.”
You slap your hands over your face, tears gathering in your eyes. “Please! You have to help me!”
Dr. Freeman places her hand on your knee. “I will help you. I want you to just let these memories come. Right now, you’re pushing them back because they scare you. Close your eyes and let them come to you as they do. They’re fragmented right now but if you let them just come to you naturally, at some point you’ll remember.”
“Really? You think so?”
She nods. “Yes and I’ll be here every step of the way.”
You sigh. “Harry and I talked last night about hiring a PI and putting this case on my podcast. Do you think that’s a good idea?”
Dr. Freeman nods. “I think it’s a great idea.”
Harry’s been on the other chair just observing and your gaze flicks to him and then to the doctor. “What about sex? I’m…I can’t focus on it…and…I don’t know what to do.”
“You can’t focus because you’re mind is distracted. Don’t push yourself so hard. If it feels right, keep going but if at any point you feel you can’t go on, then stop. There’s a mind-body connection with sex so this makes a lot of sense, but it’s not forever. If you’ve had a satisfying sex life before, you will again once your mind resolves this conflict.”
You nod. “Thank you. I just…I want to go back to the way I was before I started remembering.”
“The goal is to move forward with this new knowledge and incorporate these memories into your life now. You’ll get through this.”
You smile. “Thank you. I’m glad I have you.”
She smiles. “You’re welcome. Relax. Try and get some sleep and let these memories come to you.”
You say your goodbyes at the door. Once it’s shut you lean your forehead against Harry’s sternum and sigh heavily.
He runs his hands up and down your arms and kisses the top of your head.
“So babe, d’ya have a PI in mind tha’ I can call?” he says resting his chin on the crown of your head.
You pull back and look up at him and nod your head. “Yeah, James McCaffrey. He worked with me on the Alaska case. He’s extremely professional and damn good at his job. He’s based here in New York, but travels extensively. The victim’s family knew him long before I even started work on the case found him and hired him. They were from very old money, so he’s pricey. He has a retainer fee and then operates on an hourly rate and on expense for expense for travel, mileage, paperwork, filing fees, food…he…”
He places his finger over your mouth, “Stop. Is he good? I don’ give two fucks abou’ the money. Is. He. Good?”
“Yeah, he’s good and he knows me and I trust him.”
“Tha’s all I need ta know, Jezebel.”
“You’ll have to call Bella for information. I mean, I could go through my laptop and find him, but, honestly, honey, I’m so tired…I don’t trust I’d be able to find the information any faster than if you called her and she looked it up. I’m so, so thankful she said ‘yes’ to being my assistant. She’s ace at keeping me organized, especially when I’m on the road. Not to mention she’s one of my best friends.”
“Does she know abou’ ya parents?”
“No, and, H, I think I’d like to keep this as just ‘the next case’ if we can…it’s saved under my Uncle Albert’s last name so she won’t recognize the case name…actually no one will and considering our situation and…ya know, the public…maybe that’s for the best. Maybe we just tell McCaffrey and let him handle Boston PD and I’ll just pose the case for what it is…and unsolved burglary turned murder from 2001 that I’m covering for my podcast.”
“Ya sure ya ok wi’ tha’?” he asks crouching to catch your eyes.
“Yeah, I just want the privacy and don’t want you to be affected in anyway….”
He sighs and purses his lips, “I understand, jus’…promise me you’ll talk ta me ‘f ya wanna change tha’ at anytime, ‘cause I pay people a great deal of money ta keep my private life private an’ I jus’ wan’ ya ta know, we can work it out ‘f we need ta move ta a more public appeal. Eventually, it’ll come out, we can cross tha’ bridge when we ge’ ta it. Jus’ know this, ‘m not worried abou’ it…no’ in the least, yeah?”
You feel your eyes water and a lump form in your throat. “How’d I get so lucky,” you murmur almost inaudibly.
“Why don’ ya lay down while I go make the call ta Bella,” he says caressing your cheek.
“Don’t wanna be alone, I’m scared to sleep. C-Can I lay down on the couch in your office?” you plead with a furrowed brow.
He shakes his head sympathetically hating to see you so broken up, “Course, love, c’mon. There’s a blanket in there tha’ used ta be on ma bed back home, ’ll tuck ya up an’ make some calls while ya rest.”
Grabbing your hand, he leads you to the office where he turns the overhead light off and his desk lamp on. He closes the blinds leaving the room dim with only the glow of the lamp. You plop down on the sofa with a sigh and he kneels to slip the Vans off you threw on earlier. He catches your eyes while he unties them and smiles softly. When was the last time you saw his smirk? He’s avoiding his playfulness because of you. He just played a sold-out Madison Square Garden and yet he’s taking your shoes off and calling a for a Private Investigator…for you. You feel guilty and broken that you’ve ruined these moments. The tears slip out quietly as you bite the inside of your cheek. You want to sob, for…everything…for your parents…for Harry…for yourself. You want to scream for all the same reasons. You smile the best fake smile you’ve got trying to reassure him that you’re fine.
I feel so fucking helpless, he thinks to himself as he watches you smile that fake smile you’re donning to convince him that all is well. If he could just find a way to convince you that he doesn’t expect you to be “all well”. “I love ya Jezebel, god I love ya s’much an’ I swear ta fuck if I could make this better I would,” he says rubbing your knees.
You nod and brush the tears away, “I know you would. I’m just sorry that you have to…,” you throw your hands up, “to go through all this…you should be celebrating….”
“’M doin’ exactly wha’ ‘m s’posed ta do…takin’ care of ya s’my…honor. Jus’ lay back here an’ try ta get a little bit of rest, ‘ll be right here,” he says softly as he pulls the quilt from the back of the couch to spread over you.
You giggle slightly, “No wonder you like pink so much, there are pink bears on this blanket…this was on your bed at home?”
“Yup, slept wi’ it ‘till I moved in wi’ the boys on X-factor. Mum gave it ta me when I bought ma first house.”
“I love it…it’s perfect,” you comment turning on your side and sinking your head into the throw pillow.
He kisses your lips, lingering to softly offer his reassurance, then steps back and walks over to his desk.
You hesitate, but finally close your eyes and feel some sort of relief that the only thing you see is darkness. God, you're so tired. You hear him at his desk talking softly to Bella and you’re drifting and trying desperately to think of anything other than your memories, your family or even your work on the podcast for that matter. You think of your time at the cottage…your beautiful back deck there overlooking the lake and the swing Ron made for you for your birthday. You remember your birthday dinner with Harry and your friends all singing Happy Birthday, something you weren’t accustomed to…celebrating your birthday.
You begin to hear Happy Birthday in your head and suddenly you’re in a little kitchen, table complete with a cone hat and a Scoobey-Doo cake. He was always solving crimes too. There are two lovely people there singing to you as you sit on your knees in the chair. You try desperately to see their faces, but they just aren’t there. But you know they love you, you can feel it. You feel joy, safety and security…but most of all you feel love. Then suddenly you feel a sharp ache on the left side of your face, your left shoulder and hip. “Ouch, that hurt,” you mutter sleepily. Your eyes flutter open and you see darkness and feel the floor beneath your cheek. You reach out and can only get your arm to go so far. Then those eyes, those glassy, dead eyes are looking at you. You reach for them, but they’re too far away. Then the screaming begins. “Wait…don’t leave me…don’t…no…no!”
“Jesus, baby! Baby, my god!” Harry throws back the sofa table and bends down for you. He sounds terrified.
You open your eyes and realize that you’re on the ground with your hand reaching out under the couch. “Wha…?” you say squinting and pulling your hand out from under the couch.
“Fuck, love, ya rolled right off the couch, screaming.”
You rub your cheek, “Ugh, that hurt,” you say as you sit up on the floor against the couch. He’s running his hands over your face turning your head so he can see it better and you roll your shoulder and grimace. “Well, I guess the couch wasn’t such a good idea…hmm?” you quip trying to sound casual.
“Ya kept reachin’ fo’ somethin’ under the couch…” he says, pointing to the floor.
“Wait?!” you hop up off the ground and run over to the desk, shifting papers like mad.
He stands up and walks over to you, “Wha’ is it, love?”
“I need that police report. I know what it says, but I wanna see it on the paper,” you locate the paper and sit in the desk chair holding the paper in your shaking hands.
“Here! Here! It says that I was hiding under the couch! Maybe I was reaching for something…but what could it be!? Fuck! If I could just remember!” you exclaim slamming the paper down on the desk.
*******************************************
The next several days are a whirl wind. Harry’s second and third night at MSG were amazing and the crowds were crazy for him. You continue trying to “fake it, till you make it” but you’re operating on very, very little sleep and what sleep you have had is filled with dreams that don’t make sense and suffocating emotions you can’t explain. You’ve tried to make love a couple of times, but between your exhaustion and inability to focus, the attempts have failed resulting in a new feeling of failure, disconnectedness and sorrow. God, you miss that part of your relationship…the intimacy and connection. Your therapist assures you that things are going to be fine, but you’re beginning to wonder. He’s been so patient and loving. But to be fair he’s going out, successfully entertaining thousands of adoring fans, has two upcoming highly anticipated films and then…well, then he’s coming home and keeping you held together.
You’ve made arrangements to meet with James McCaffrey this morning and he insisted on being there although it was cutting his sleep short.
“Hi James, it’s good to see you…oh wait, you go by Mac right?” you say leading him to the dining room.
“Yeah, most folks call me Mac, that’s what they called me back at the Bureau…it kinda stuck,” he replies humbly. James McCaffrey was originally from Boca Raton and spent thirty-seven years in the intelligence division of the Federal Bureau of Investigation at Quantico. He’s a tall, slender, non-descript man in his mid-sixties wearing basic wrangler jeans, work boots and a long sleeve button up plaid cotton shirt. His hair is a distinguised silver, cut short and neat. He’s carrying a simple black backpack that he sets next to his chair at the dining room table as he pulls out his laptop.
“Mac, this is Harry, my…boyfriend,” you say looking at Harry who wraps his arm around your shoulder.
“Oh, I know who you are. I have a twenty-one-year-old niece who just saw you at the Garden two nights ago. My brother and his wife got tickets for her twenty-first birthday. She took some guy that I had to run a background check on before her Dad would give his blessing to take him,” he says with a grin.
Harry chuckles, “Sounds like sound parentin’ ta me.”
“Well, don’t know much about parenting, my wife didn’t care for my mistress, the Bureau, so she left me early on. Don’t blame her really, this life’s no life for a committed, family man. Wasn’t fair to her, she was far too good for me,” Mac says as he sets up his laptop and takes out a yellow legal pad, pen and highlighter.
Harry runs his hand over your neck and squeezes. “Yeah, understand tha’ feelin’… ma world’s no’ exac’ly fo’ tha faint of heart, bu’ luckily we get ta travel together an’ I’m no’ needed at a momen’s notice.” He looks at you and smiles softly and you do the same.
“I’ve known this little lady here for a while now, tough as nails…which is why those dark circles under her eyes and the blood vessels in the whites of her eyes are causing me to worry about what is such an all-fire emergency,” Mac comments using the years of time in service to pick up on the subtle hints that something is wrong. He looks up to you and then over to Harry and then back to you…trying to take in the feel of your relationship.
“Always in observation-mode, eh?” You say with an awkward, breathy laugh and a clearing of your throat. "Everything is fine with Harry, Mac, but this is about me. I need you to do some work for me and, even though I may use my podcast to cover the case and, hopefully generate some leads, I want to keep it confidential.” You can’t help the single tear that slides down your cheek and you sniffle and wipe it away quickly.
“You got it kiddo, whatever you need, just let me know and we’ll get it done,” Mac says with an expression of determination and a tone of confidence.
“It’s about my parents. Maybe it would be best if you start here,” you slide the papers over, “with their homicide report.”
15 minutes later, Mac looks up from the paperwork having read through it once, then back through it again with a highlighter and pen to make notes. He takes his glasses off and looks around the table, “So where’s the rest of it?”
“That’s all I have and when I called to talk to Detective’s Fitzgerald and O’Malley I was told they are no longer on the job.” You look down at your hands, “I mean, I’ve just started to look into the case, to be honest, so I haven’t even called Boston PD,” glancing to Harry you continue, “I’m…I-I’m having nightmares and I think they’re related so I need to get past… pushing it all away an..and start to find some answers.”
“Fuckin’ Fitz and O’Malley…,” Mac says shaking his head, “Excuse me, darling.”
You shake your head and both of you sit up straighter.
“O’Malley passed away in 2004,” Harry says. It really warms your heart that he’s listened so intently that he knows the case as well as you do.
“Oh, yeah, I know…he died under suspicious circumstances, but got a full BPD Irish Catholic funeral through the streets of the city like a goddamn hero…what a fuckin’ joke, excuse me, darling. Those two were a couple of real pieces of work. Teflon, nothing ever stuck, but they had a reputation and at one point Boston Internal Affairs got the Bureau involved. How does a beat officer in Boston go from patrol duty to a detective who drives a Ferrari in a couple of year’s time? O’Malley had a red Ferrari and Fitz drove a mini-van. Trouble with Fitz was that he parked that mini-van in front of a million dollar estate in the Green Village. Fitz was hailed as a family man who “had his priorities straight”, but the mini-van was just his way of trying to stay on the down low. Kids when to the best private schools, wife had a decked out Suburban for PTA duty AND a white Mercedes she drove for her girl’s nights out.”
“So, did anyone look into O’Malley’s death?” Harry asks.
“No, word was his wife seemed to come into a great deal of money after he was gone. And I’m talking about more money than the typical union supported life insurance…like A. LOT. of money. She remarried and moved to the Caymans.”
“What about Fitz?” you ask.
“He retired just a couple of years after O’Malley died. Word through the Bureau was that he didn’t have a partner to do deals with and that fresh blood in the department might cause fresh eyes on their cases,” Mac stated.
“So what were they investigated for?” you ask.
“IA had a confidential informer who snitched that they were dirty with a crew who were doin’ B & E’s and selling hot merch. Rumor was they would “turn their backs” on the crime for a forty percent take in the profits. Problem was this crew had connections with the Gallagher Family. Once you’re in the family, they tend to buy you for just about anything they want.”
Your brows furrow and you sit forward, “Are you talking about the Boston Mob…?”
Mac nods his head.
“Wow, I wonder how they managed to get my parent’s case?”
“D’ya think they could be involved? I mean, could these detectives…h-have turned their back on Mr. and Mrs. Rose’s case?” Harry questions. Once again his thoughtfulness and kindness warming your heart. How did I get so lucky, you think to yourself as you look at him longingly.
“Dunno, but we can look into it easy enough. I know a scrappy young lady in the BPD, Amanda York, who’s worked on some cold cases like this, she’s uncovered some other unsavory activities within the department. Maybe if I can get what IA and FBI investigations found to her she can do some digging. Gimme just one minute and I’ll send a message to my in at the Bureau and one to Amanda and we can get the ball rolling,” Mac says tapping the keyboard.
Harry runs his hand over your thigh and looks at you with a soft smile, “Excuse us for a moment,” he says pushing his chair out and pulling on your hand.
Once outside of the room, he stands in front of you cupping your cheeks, “How ya holdin’ up, Jezebel?”
You hook your hands on his wrists and look up into his eyes. “I’m good. God, I’m so tired. But I feel like, I’m actually…doing something about it after all these years. I should’ve looked into it earlier, I can’….”
He leans down and covers your mouth with his, tilting his head to deepen the kiss, opening his mouth to sneak a taste. Pulling away he leans his forehead to yours, “Shh…please don’ put y’self through tha “what if’s”. We’re doin’ somethin’ abou’ it now an’ tha’s all tha’ matters. Ya doin’ s’good, ‘m s’proud of how ya ‘andlin’ ev’rythin. Love ya s’much.”
“It means so much that you’re here with me. I mean, you have so much else to be doing and yet, here you are with me…”
“And Mac,” He deadpans with a smirk.
“And Mac,” you grin back.
“Aww…there’s a smile! Tha’s ma girl…love ta see tha’ smile,” he says before kissing your nose. “By the way, I like Mac…a lot. ’M glad he was able ta come see us.”
“Well, I specifically remember some incredible man making an offer he couldn’t refuse,” you tease tracing his cross necklace.
"No, love, it didn’ take much ta convince him, said he’d do anythin’ fo ya. Tha’ ya were one special lady who has the heart for helpin’ the victims on ya cases. He’s impressed an’, most importan’ly he respec’s ya. Man, know’s wha’ he’s talkin’ abou’.” He kisses you again and leads you back to the dining room.
“The files from IA and the Bureau are already on the way and Amanda said she’ll start by pulling the case and any other similar cases around that time to see if there are any correlations. There’s been enough turn over and anti-corruption overhaul done through their department that we can trust their ethics. It’s no secret what once went down so this isn’t the first case she’s had to look at through the O’Malley, Fitzgerald angle,” he says packing up his laptop and notepad.
You sigh deeply. “Thank you so much Mac, I just can’t thank you enough,” you say putting your arms around his neck.
“Well, little lady, it’s no problem and I’m really happy to help,” he says walking toward the door. “Oh!” he says stopping in his tracks. “You should know that Amanda said Fitz isn’t doing very well. Word is he’s got stomach cancer and isn’t gonna be around too much longer. Humph, stomach cancer,” he says shaking his head, “Perhaps guilt does eat away at you after all.”
The next couple of days are a whirlwind as Mac and Amanda York start their investigation. Amanda was furious when Mac told her about your case. She shook her head in disgust as she pored over the police report while you’re FaceTiming. “They were so corrupt. Completely in league with the Irish mob. I keep wondering how many more cases were mishandled because of them.” She sighs heavily. “When we solve this, I’m going to request an official review of ALL of their cases.” She runs her hand back through her hair and then realizes her hair is in a ponytail and her hand drops. “Hey…maybe your podcast could help with that?!”
“I’ll help in any way I can,” you tell her.
“I’m getting ahead of myself, I know. I’ll keep digging and we’ll prepare for your podcast.”
You sigh. “Thank you, Amanda.”
“We’re gonna solve this case. Just hang in there.”
You nod and end the call. You gulp and feel the tears gathering. You want to believe you’ll solve this case but you’re just not sure anymore. Between the doubt about solving the case and the memories that keep coming back out of order, you’re barely hanging on.
Harry set up an appointment for a couples massage for you both. He’s trying to do everything he can in order to help you relax. He’s sitting in your daily meetings with Dr. Freeman but the memories are so jumbled you’re still having trouble making them come together.
You’re relaxed and floaty after your massage and you’re looking at him across the massage table with a soft smile. He drops his hand off of the table and you drop yours and he grabs your hand, fingers squeezing yours.
As soon as the massage is over, and the masseuses leave, you push him back on the bed and straddle him, kissing him.
His hand moves to the back of your head and he slants his mouth over yours, deepening the kiss. His lips trail down your throat and you shiver at his warm breath on your breast.
“S’good baby,” he breathes against your skin before he pulls your nipple between his teeth. “Open up fo’ me,” he breathes into your ear.
Your body stiffens and you can’t breathe. Those words “open up for me” pull you back into a memory. You’re watching as your father goes by and another set of shoes are behind him and a gravelly voice says those words. You hear the safe lock turn and then the door swing open and then everything does black.
“Jezebel! Jesus, fuck…can ya hear me?”
You come back to reality slowly and you’re laying on the bed. “Wha…what happened?”
“Ya started shaking an’ panting an’ then ya passed out.”
You roll over as the tears stream down your face. I’m a failure, you think to yourself. Will this ever end?
It’s night 4 of Harry’s 15 night MSG residency but it’s also the day of your podcast where you’ll be presenting your parents case. You’re in the sound booth, Mac next you and Amanda on FaceTime and you’re almost ready to go live when you hear the lock whir and Harry steps into the booth.
You smile at him tiredly and he takes a seat next to you and shakes Mac’s hand and says hi to Amanda.
“Ok, let’s start in 3…2…1…” You press the green start button and then you’re off.
“You did great, darlin’,” Mac says as you press the stop button.
“Thanks,” you say slumping in your chair.
“Try and get some sleep. You did good today and hopefully you’ll get some leads. I’m going back to Boston to help Amanda run down some leads. I’ll be in touch. Harry, have a great show tonight.”
You both thank him and then he leaves.
“C’mon baby let’s get ya ta bed. Ya need ya rest.”
You nod and stand up to let him lead you to the bedroom. He tucks you in and lays down behind you, hugging you tightly.
“S’gon’ be ok, Jezebel. I’m here fo’ ya an’ we’ll get through this.”
You grip his hand tightly but don’t say anything. You’re not sure you believe that anymore.
****a few hours later***
Harry shakes you gently. It’s time to go to the venue and he’s not sure if you were coming to the show or not. He feels helpless and he hates it but he’s trusting this process as much as he can.
You rouse slowly and wake up to his beautiful green eyes.
“‘Bout ta go ta the venue. Ya comin’ wi’?”
You rub your eyes and nod your head yes. Despite how hopeless you feel right now, you want to be there for him.
He smiles and you sit up and press your lips to his. “I love you.”
“I love ya, ma Jezebel.”
The concert’s great and you managed to smile for the first time in what feels like forever. You finally get back to the apartment and he tells you that he’d like to take another shower. He’d just toweled off the sweat and taken his ice bath but he needs a proper shower.
He kisses you quickly and heads to the en suite and after a few minutes you realize you need to brush your teeth. You push open the door and stop dead in your tracks because there he is having a wank. You shut the door as quietly as you can and get in the bed, curling up in the fetal position, tears streaming down your cheeks. I’m failing him, you think again. You pretend to be asleep as he comes out of the en suite and snuggles in next to you, kissing your shoulder.
******************************************
“It worked!” Mac’s voice booms in your ear. It’s early and his phone call woke you up from a fitful sleep. You sit up and run your hand down your face and hear Harry groan behind you. You slip out of the bedroom so you don’t disturb him further and make your way to the office.
“What worked?”
“Your podcast darlin’. We got a tip from the tip line!”
“Wait…you did?”
“Yeah! Fella by the name of Patrick O’Malley.”
“O’Malley?”
“Yeah, he’s the son of our illustrious cop O’Malley. He heard your podcast on the case. He’s a big fan by the way.”
“Wow. What did he say?” You’re starting to wake up now.
“He had quite a story. Just lookin’ at my notes.” He pauses and you can’t tell if he’s pausing for dramatic effect or he really is looking at his notes. “Ah, here we are. Says that he always knew his dad was on the take. Apparently pops was always looking over his shoulder and he went to a high falutin’ prep school that caters to kids who can trace their lineage back to Plymouth Rock.” He hmphs in your ear. “Dear ol’ dad told him to tell the rich brats they came into money from a great aunt in Ireland.”
“Ok…” you say, helping him along.
“So get this kid turns 18 and daddy gives him a…vintage Rolex.”
You gasp. “Is it…is it from the shoppe?”
“Well now, I’ve gotta match the serial number up from the shop’s records, but I’m 99% sure this is one of the stolen watches. Meetin’ with Patrick tomorrow to collect the watch.”
“Wow…oh my god…then it was these two cops all along.”
“Looks like it, darlin’ I’m sorry to say. Been sittin’ on his wrist all this time. Ain’t that somethin’?”
“Yeah…yeah it is.”
“Oh, another thing,” he says taking a drink, “Amanda and I went to see ol’ Fitz the other day.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. Hospice caretaker said he was sleeping so we gave her our card. He called back this morning and wants to speak with us.”
“Really?”
“Yeah we were surprised too but we’re going to see him today. Wanted to keep you up to date. Sorry for the early call.”
“Wow, thank you so much, Mac. Don’t worry about it.”
“How’re ya holdin’ up, darlin’?”
“I’m struggling but hanging in there.”
“I’m sorry, darlin’. Your memories’ll come back when ya least expect it. I’ve seen it lots of times.”
“I hope so. I really do.”
“They will. I’ll keep ya posted.”
“Thanks Mac. Have a good day.”
“You too. Bye.”
You sit in the chair for a minute dumbfounded. Your hand slowly moves over your parents faces in the last family photo you had done that’s now in a frame on the desk. “I miss you and I’m sorry I forgot you,” you tell the smiling faces as tears fall down your cheeks.
Harry taps on the office door quietly and slowly pushes it open. His heart breaks as he watches you crying and he moves in front of you and drops to his knees to hug you, squeezing you to him.
You melt into him, enjoying his warmth and his strong arms.
He doesn’t ask you what’s wrong; he just holds you until you’re ready to talk to him. “S’ok, I’ve got ya…s’ok,” he says into your skin over and over.
You squeeze him tighter to you. You feel like you’re letting everyone down - him, your parents, your therapist, yourself. Why can’t I just remember?! You think to yourself. Why?!
Finally the tears dry up and you hiccup and pull back.
“Ya ok?” He asks gently.
You shrug. “I don’t know anymore.”
“Oh ma sweet Jezebel, wish I could help ya.”
Your fingers pet the side of his neck. “You are! I just feel like…I feel like I’m letting everyone down.”
“Ya no’ lettin’ anyone down, hear me?” He says, hands tightening on your waist.
“Ok.”
He can tell you don’t believe him, but decides not to press it. “Wha’ happened on ya call?”
You tell him everything that you tell him. “Wow…tha’s…wow.”
“Yeah.”
“It doesn’t bring them back but it migh’ help knowin’ wha’ happened.”
“I hope so. I’m just…I’m so tired.”
“I know, baby. Let’s get ya back to bed.”
*****later that afternoon*
You’re just about ready to head to the venue when Mac calls you back.
“Hi ya darlin’.”
“Hi Mac,” you say switching to speakerphone so Harry can hear the conversation.
“Well, we met with Fitz today. Poor old bastard’s not long for this world, I’ll tell ya that.” He pauses. “Got a helluva story.”
“Tell me, please.” Your patience is worn thin. Harry squeezes your hand to comfort you.
“He said he was in with Gallagher before he joined the force. Said he really liked police work and he wanted me to know that there were cases they really worked. He tried to get out but the old man wouldn’t let him out. According to him, O’Malley loved it, had a real good time.”
“What about my case?”
“Gettin’ there. He figured we were there askin’ about a case. He said that they heard about the vintage Rolexes and Gallagher wanted them. There was another break in on the block so it made sense. Said things went horribly wrong. No one was supposed to be there and they panicked when you were and O’Malley freaked and changed the plan.”
You’re having difficulty breathing. “Is that it?”
“Well, no. He says he’s glad you hid because O’Malley would’ve killed you too. He wanted to after you were found but there was too much heat what with you in Child Protective Services and then your Uncle and Aunt took you to England. He talked about flying over there and taking ya out but he says he talked him out of it. Months went by and they didn’t hear anything so he dropped it. He said that was the last thing he ever did. Went to old man Gallagher and negotiated his out once he retired and then O’Malley got taken out. Said he did solid police work for a few years before he retired early.”
“Jesus…oh my god…”
“Uh yeah…there’s one more thing.”
“What?”
“He says he wants to meet you. His exact words were: “I want to meet the little girl. Do you think she’d come see me?”
Your eyes meet Harry’s. “I dunno…can I think about it?”
“Sure thing darlin’. Don’t feel obligated. It’s your call. Just let me know.”
“Ok, I will thank you.”
“Bye darlin’.”
You end the call and look at Harry again. “What do you think?”
Sliding the phone out of the way, he shifts from sitting next to you to sitting on the low table in front of you and grabs your hands. “Babe, wha’ mat-ahs most here’s how YOU feel abou’ meetin’ him? I mean, wha’ I wan’ is fo’ ya ta find peace an’ if meetin’ wi’ him will help ya find it, then I 100% support ya, an’ ‘f it’ll jus’ cause mo’ grief an’ loss in the long run, then ‘s no’ worth it. Thin’ ya hafta thin’ on it…like wha’ d’ya expect ta get from him? Cause, ‘f ‘m honest, I hope ya don’ expec’ much…’cause I don’ think it'll fix ev’rythin, bu’ I don’ think it would be a complete waste either…ya jus’ halfta manage ya expectations an’ be honest wi’ y’self,” he says searching your eyes.
You cup one of his cheeks, “My god, H, when did you get so wise?” you ask with tears in your eyes. “Thank you. Thank you so much because, yeah, that’s exactly what I need to think about.” You draw your hand back to your lap and fidget, threading and unthreading your fingers. The weight of all of this is taking such a toll on you, you feel nauseated at the roller coaster of emotions you have been on. To be honest, you just want to get off the ride because the self-doubt, the guilt of not looking into things earlier, the overwhelming feeling of the fear of what you don’t know…what you might remember…it’s all so unnerving.
“Listen…love ya, Jezebel. Ya aren’ alone, I’m here…,” he says placing both his hands on your thighs and running them up and down. “Do any-god-damn-thin’ for ya. An’…,” he lifts your chin up to look into your eyes. “An’ ya hav’ s’many others who’d do anythin’ fo’ ya. Wish I knew wha’ tha fuck ta do ta make all this bet-ah bu’ thanks ta people like Mac an’ Amanda, thin’s are movin’ fo’ward, yeah? There’s ligh’ at tha end of tha tunnel, babe.” He runs a thumb under your eye, “Hate seein’ ya s’tired…ya eyes have lost ya sparkle.” He sniffs and pulls you into his lap. Straddling him, he runs his hands around to cup your bum and pull you in close then places a sweet, chaste kiss on your quivering lips. “Ya feel like comin’ tanigh’, hmm? Ya ‘no ya don’ hafta…Bella can come an’ stay wi’ ya an’ keep ya company.”
You run your hands up his biceps to his neck and around to thread into his hair. “No, I want to go. I just want to…I mean, try to be as normal as I can…and I want to celebrate these special nights…I’m so proud of you. It’s so incredible watching you…so alive and inspiring. You’re so fuckin’ talented and I’m sorry you’re having to deal with my shit. It’s not fair,” you say pressing your forehead to his. “I think I’m going to let the decision to see Fitzgerald sink in for the night and let Mac know in the morning what I want to do, because,” you close your eyes, “I-I am just…I’m just ready to put as much of this behind me as I can.”
“Sounds good, swee’heart. Why don’ ya message Mac an’ let ‘em ‘no ya wanna sleep on it an’ give ‘em tha answer in tha mornin’ Cal’ll be ‘round to pick us up in thirty. I’m gon’ go grab a shower. Just grab ya clothes an’ ya can get ready wi’ me tanight, mkay? Wanna share tha shower? I’ll wash ya back, an’ no funny stuff,” he says hoping to be able to at least get his hands on your skin, he’s missed you so much.
You stiffen and shift to stand before wrapping your arms around yourself tight. The memory of him having a wank in the shower immediately runs through your mind. “Umm…thanks but I’m good. Uhhh… just gonna go… pick out what I wanna wear and send that message to Mac.” You say quickly and start to walk away.
As you pass him he grabs your wrist, “Sure ya ok?”
You paint on a plastic smile, “Oh, uhhh…yeah, just a little sleep deprived,” you lie adding more guilt to the heaps of guilt to already feel. As you walk away, more tears threaten to fall. When are things ever going to go back to being the way they once were…what if they never do? Who wants to be with someone who keeps letting them down?
“God dammit! So stupid!” Harry mumbles to himself as he hangs his head with his eyes closed. “Join me in tha shower…wash ya back…,” he further mumbles chastising himself. “Fuck!” She prolly thinks I’m tryna pressure her for sex, he thinks to himself, rolling his eyes and shaking his head. “Jus’ wanna make it all better, baby…my sweet Jezebel.”
You make it to the venue and Harry changes into a fitted tank and trousers; Pink sequin polka dots on a pale baby blue background. He looks so amazing…as per usual. You’re standing in the doorway watching him fidget with his hair when his gaze meets yours in the mirror. “D’ya send a message ta Mac?” he asks with a soft smile.
“Yeah, told him I’d have an answer to him by 9 a.m.,” you answer returning his smile. “I thi…”
Ding-ding-ding. Your phone indicating an incoming call interrupts.
“Oh, wow, it’s Mac…” you say say looking down at your phone. “Hey Mac, how are you?”
“Hey little lady, I’m doing great thanks. Hey just wanted to call to let you know that O’Malley’s kid took the watch to an antique jewelry dealer who popped the back off and got a magnified picture of the serial number. I just verified that it matches the number of a 1905 first edition that was in your parent’s shoppe and was not recovered after the burglary. Patrick also included a picture he had of his old man proudly presenting it to him at graduation,” he lets out a puff of disgusted air. “O’Malley…fuckin’, arrogant bastard…sorry darlin’.”
“Oh, wow, Mac…,” you gasp causing Harry to spin around with his brows furrowed. “Gonna switch you to speaker, it’s just me and Harry,” you say switching the phone to speaker and moving closer to the vanity. “Go ahead.”
“Anyway, Rolex keeps extensive records on their pieces. They traced it back to one of the first ten watches ever made by the company when they opened their doors in 1905. They say it was put together with Swiss parts by the hands of Wilsdorf, himself. He’s the fella who started Rolex in 1905 London. Fella was only 24 years old… anyway, Rolex says that any expert wouldn’t appraise it for lower than a million. Ain’t that something?”
Your eyes bulge and you look over to Harry, “A million dollars?!” you say incredulously.
“Jesus,” Harry exclaims.
“I know, right?” you can hear the smile in Mac’s voice. “Well, Patrick sure didn’t pick up any of his Daddy’s old habits. Said he doesn’t want anything to do with that watch anymore and that he’d just like to give it back to the rightful owner. Amanda is on her way to pick it up as evidence.”
“So does that mean she’s gonna seek a warrant for Fitzgerald’s arrest?” you ask.
“Well, kiddo, the DA is gonna want more evidence on him…but from the looks of it, he wouldn’t even live to stand trial so I don’t want you to get your hopes up, Ok?” he says sympathetically.
“Wait, does tha’ mean tha’ the watch’ll come back ta the Rose’s heir?” Harry asks.
“Yeah, as soon as it’s released from evidence in the case, yeah, it’ll go to you, little lady.”
You shake your head like you’re trying to rattle around the idea in your brain until it settles. Then your open and close and open and close your mouth like a fish before gasping, “What did you say?”
“Said as soon as we can close the case the watch is yours. Also, did you know that the jewelry store insurance paid out to help take care of you, but because your parent’s passed under suspicious circumstances, their life insurance policies never paid out? I found that out when I found some old notes Fitz had taken from the adjuster calling to get updates. Looks like he just stopped calling after a few years of not getting anywhere with BPD and, apparently, your Aunt and Uncle never pursued it. Your parents were young and didn’t have a will, so most of that would’ve been held up in probate until you were a adult anyway…but now with a solved case, you can file it.”
“They couldn’t have afforded much for life insurance, do you know what the policies were worth?” you ask moving closer to the phone.
“Sure, uhhh…” you hear shuffling of papers, “Oh! Wow! They each had policies valued at $250K…so another $500K.”
A tear drips down your cheek and drops to the floor as you stare at your feet. “I mean, I’m thankful for what I had with my Aunt and Uncle, but if I could give all that back and have had my parents growing up, I would.”
Harry wraps his arm around your waist and kisses your temple.
“I know, darlin’, I know and I’m sorry.” Mac says. “Well, I’m gonna let you kids go, I’ll hear from you in the morning about visiting Fitz.”
You say your good-byes and just look at each other. Harry opens his mouth just as a loud banging on the door rings out. He lets out a huff, “Tha’ll be my cue to go crawl in the box. Talk abou’ this later?”
You nod your head and offer a soft smile. “Yeah.”
“You gon’ stand in ya usual spot?” he asks.
“I will be, yes,” you say straightening his cross necklace.
He grabs your cheeks, “I love ya. Ya gon’ be alright tanight?”
You nod sucking in your bottom lip and then popping it out. “Go get ‘em, rockstar, I love you.”
He smiles that stunning smile and places a quick peck to your lips before heading to the door. “Ya comin’?”
“Yeah, just gotta visit the loo, I’ll be right out.”
“Kay, see ya out there,” he says his energy clearly ramping up and he’s out the door.
You slowly walk to the bathroom thinking of everything that just transpired. To say you’re shocked would be an understatement. But at the same time, your exhaustion reminds you that you’re still missing sleep, still struggling to enjoy the things you had so found joy in before. You close your eyes and those plastic eyes are there again…the sounds and smells so strong. You quickly open your eyes again. Will you ever be able to relax and focus again? The stomping roar jars you out of your brooding. Harry’s about to be on stage and it’s time you get out there. But how long is he gonna tolerate your distance and chaos? You sigh and head toward the door.
You watch from your usual space as Harry charms the masses and belts out his words with his incredibly talented voice. The crowd is loving him, any one of the hundreds of single women in the pits closest to him would do anything to be his. Many of them probably don’t have the baggage you bring and it’s obvious most of them sure wouldn’t have problems having sex with him. “So what’s wrong with me,” you mumble to yourself knowing it’ll never be heard over the screaming. He makes eye contact several times and you know he’s checking on you and sending his love. You can’t help the sobs that wrack your body when he sings Little Freak. When he sees your tears he too has to stop and hold the mic up for the audience to sing. You can clearly see he’s having his own trouble hearing the song and seeing you hurting.
He’s just begun a little chatter with the crowd in his search for the “Golf Dads”, when a young fan points your way. She looks to be about ten years old and has a man and woman with her. She’s pointing and whispering in the woman’s ear. You look away and then back and now they’re all looking at you. You slowly turn inconspicuously to see if maybe they’re looking at someone else, maybe they spot a friend in the section above you. When you look back they’re waving. You smile and wave back, and take a closer look at the sign the little girl is holding. It says, “Boston Loves You, Harry!” scribbled in mismatched and partially colored letters. You smile to yourself, it’s been years since you were actually in Boston, there’s so much that happened there. The man and woman have turned their attention back to Harry but the little girl is still staring at you. You give her another wave to which she excitedly waves back. She’s wearing the sweetest smile, a long French braid and a Harry’s House t-shirt that’s hanging down so far it looks like a dress. Finally, you give in and wave her over. She does a little jump and pulls on the man and woman’s arms until they make their way over to you. You smile brightly, “Well, hello there, sweetheart! Are you having a good time?”
“Hi, I’m Laura and I know who you are!” she squeals.
Your body breaks out in goosebumps at her name, but you shake them off. “Who’re you here with?” you ask looking to the man and woman with her.
“That’s my Momma and Daddy. And you are Harry’s girlfriend.”
You introduce yourself to Loraine and Edgar who are, apparently, Laura’s parents. “It’s very nice to meet you,” you say fist bumping each of them. You kneel down to Laura’s height, “Yes, I’m Harry’s girlfriend. I really like your sign did you make it?”
She nods frantically, “Yeah, the blue marker wasn’t very bright so I had to use all different colors. I put a heart for the “o” in “Loves” and colored it Harry’s favorite color, pink.
Does he really have a pink toothbrush?”
Giggling, you nod your head, “He sure does, yup, pink is his favorite color. What’s your favorite song, Laura?”
She crooks her mouth to one side and presses her pointer finger to her cheek in thought, “Well, I really like Music for a Sushi Restaurant, but my other favorite is the one where he talks about Jezebel.”
You gasp and the goosebumps are back, in fact, you shiver like a cold breeze just blew by. “I like both of those so much too. Can I take your picture to show Harry?”
“REALLY?? You would show Harry??”
“Oh, yeah, he loves to see pictures of his fans. Gather up so I can get you all in.”
Edgar reaches down and picks Laura up to perch on his shoulders. “Up ya go, Pumpkin,” he says in a deep gruff voice.
Your stance faulters as he says “Pumpkin” because that’s what your father called you too. You shake your head and take a deep breath then another. You feel your peripheral vision closing in, so you shake it off again.
Loraine’s brow furrows and she says, “Are you alright, dear? Can we get you some water?”
You plaster on a smile and shake your head, “Yeah, I’m fine, thank you.”
Laura says, “She probably needs some of your vitamin water Dad. My Mom and Dad have a health food store in our town, it’s named after me! Laura’s in Boston.”
You gasp and choke on the air you sucked in as the world around you begins to spin and you begin to pant and heave. Only a moment passes before you feel your legs begin to shake and you turn your head and make eye contact with Lambert, of all people. But he immediately knows something is up and briskly walks to you.
“You ok?” he asks looking you up and down.
“Ummm….can you take a picture of these lovely people, I need to step away,” you whisper in his ear.
You step away quickly waving to Laura and her parents quickly mouthing, “It was lovely to meet you.”
You make it to a hallway and fall back against a wall, panting your breath shallowly. Your chest begins to tighten and hurt as your heart races. You place your hands on your knees bending at the waist to try to catch your breath. Closing your eyes, it all floods back. The couch was green and the floor hardwood. It was cold on your cheek and pushed on your tummy and hipbones as you squeezed yourself underneath. No-one ever knocked on the shoppe’s door, but two men in suits knocked and then your mom let them in when they showed her their wallets. Wait, why would they show their wallet? It was black and opened like a wallet. Then mom started to scream. She was scared, so you crawled under the couch. Then the crinkle of a bag and her screaming sounded like it was far away suddenly. Where did she go? As you rest your cheek on the floor, you look out from under the couch to see her pretty black dress shoes. She wore them to the shoppe everyday. Then her hand hit the floor, then her face. Her face looked shiny like it was plastic and she was pulling at her neck. It’s a bag! It’s a plastic bag on her head and she struggles and gasps, much like you are at the moment, before she quietly just… stops. It all just stops, and she reaches for my hand. Then the lights go out.
Your ears are ringing and you still can’t catch your breath. Your head is hurting …it feels like your brain is being squeezed. And the memories…they’re so painful. Out in the arena Sarah hits a particularly booming drum note and you startle and stand straight up, sucking in a deep breath.
Suddenly, you hear a booming voice, “Open it up! Open it up!” Then you hear your father wailing, “Laura, Laura…” he sobs. Three… what are those, firecrackers, go off and you don’t hear him anymore. Why did he leave? Where did he go? Daddy? “What the fuck is wrong with you!” comes a male voice, “Had to be done!” The last thing you hear is the bell to the back door ring as it was opened and then closed.
You squint your eyes tight…trying to process all that’s running through your aching head. I just need to breathe and walk…I need to walk away from here…I need to get away is all you can think to yourself.
Your heart is racing against the wooden floor, it’s so cold on this floor and Momma is just staring at me. Why isn’t she blinking and trying to get to me? Slowly you turn your head away from her and just close your eyes. Maybe it’ll all go away if you just close your eyes. As you keep your eyes tightly shut you feel your heartrate slow and soon the lull of sleep has overtaken you.
Your hands fly to cover your face. “Oh my god, I slept! I slept!” Instantly nauseous you find the nearest trash bin thinking you need to vomit. Leaning over the pile of used arena cups and napkins, nothing comes up, but the heaving of breath is making your stomach sick and the memories…everything is as clear as the day it happened. You slide along the wall and Lambert rounds the entryway to the hall.
“Jesus, are you ok?” he says rushing to you.
“No, I need to go home, NOW!”
Lambert wisely doesn’t ask questions he just puts his arm around your shoulders and leads you to the exit where Cal is waiting. They help you in the backseat discussing whether you need to go to the ER.
“NO! I’m ok to just go to the apartment! PLEASE, just take me there!” you insist.
“I’ll let Harry and security know where you are,” Lambert says and you wave him off wishing him to just go away and leave you so Cal can get you out of there.
You make your way into the apartment slamming and locking the door behind you. You frantically look around and feel your throat closing again. “I slept while my parents were dying or dead. I didn’t do anything. I should’ve gotten up and called the police. What kind of person just sleeps while their family is dying. Why didn’t I even try to use the phone? What the fuck is wrong with me! There must be something seriously mentally wrong with me! “What…” you sob out loud to the empty apartment.
You look up and see a picture of you, Harry, Ron and Helen in Cornwall. What are they going to think when they know what you’ve done? When they know what you didn’t do? The tears are streaming steadily, “Oh Harry… oh, my sweet Harry. I’m so broken and you’re so…just so…, don’t hate me, please don’t hate me…Oh my god, this is too much…this is too toxic…He doesn’t deserve to have to go through this.”
You stumble your way into your shared bedroom and to the closet. Gotta get out of here is all you can think. You plop down to pull out a suitcase that’s tucked away on the floor behind some clothes. It’s not even your own suitcase! “Fuck!” you say hitting the top of it hard enough to feel sharp pains shoot up your arm from the side of your fist. Shit that hurt so much. Everything hurts so much…everything hurts. Too much…it’s all too much. It’s not fair to the ones you love to bring this on them.
Harry looks back to where you usually stand during his set and, well, you aren’t there. He doesn’t think much of it until forty-five minutes have passed and you’re nowhere to be found. He’s losing focus worried about where you’ve gone. In between a song he get the attention of a security person and tasks them with finding you. With no updates and shrugged shoulders from everyone, he’s out of his mind with worry by the time he has blown his last kiss and given his last peace sign to the crowd. There are a few people along the way asking for pictures and he graciously stops, plants a smile, makes small talk and searches faces…looking for yours. Finally he makes it to his dressing room where Lambert is waiting for him, pacing.
“Sorry Lambert, don’ mean ta be rude, but I don’ hav’ time ta discuss clothes tanight, I’ve gott…”
“She’s at the apartment. She just said she wanted to go to the apartment, she looked a little panicked, but otherwise safe. Cal took her home and I’ve been calling for her assistant Bella, hoping to get her over there as soon as possible. Cal is standing guard at your door. She didn’t wanna go to tha ER…?” Lambert informs.
“Wha’ tha fuck!?” he gasps stripping his shirt off and grabbing a black jumper, “Did she look like she needed ta go ta hospital.
“She emphatically did not want to go and we thought that if Bella could get over there she would take care of her. But once I got ahold of Bella, I found out she’s at a retreat in the Hamptons, but is on her way, she’ll just be late arriving. She said to tell you she was calling…,” he looks down at his phone, “A SarahJane for a emergency appointment. Sounded like Bella knew what was going on and that your girl would be fine at least medically. I’ll take you to her as soon as you get dressed. No one will recognize my car.”
“Christ, why didn’ someone stop an’ tell me!” Harry mumble shouts.
“Umm, you were….kinda busy, Harry.”
“No’ when it comes to her! Jesus Fuckin’ Christ, Lambert, she’s gon’ be my wife!” Harry blurts out.
Lambert’s eyes get big and round, “Well, let’s get you to her.”
“Jesus, don’ tell anyone I said tha’, please…” Harry laments as he literally kicks his clothes to the side causing Lambert to pick them up and fold them neatly in a pile. Violently shoving his feet into sneakers breaking the heel down he booms, “Get me to her, now!”
Your phone has been dinging with text messages from Bella, and Harry for the last thirty minutes. You know they must be worried sick, but at this moment you have no idea what you would say or if you could even talk to them. What if Harry is disgusted by you, he lives his life being so kind to people, and he’s been exceptionally kind to you, but what’s he gonna say when all this comes out and people find out how broken you are?
Sobs have wracked your body so much that your sides are sore, everything is sore, your face is sore from the grimace and your soul is in pain from feeling so much. Your heart from your attempts to cut Harry out of it. You’ve managed to get the suitcase open and…well, that’s pretty much where you stopped, after all, you promised once not to run, so you’ve decided not to, but when he gets here you’re prepared to walk away for his sake…because you love him.
You scoot to the back wall of the closet and rest your head against it before reaching into the clothes hamper next to you to pull out one of Harry’s undershirts to hold to your nose. Burying your face in the fabric and breathing in his scent, you finally just fall forward and stay there, face in his shirt, on the floor of the closet, sobbing for the parents you lost to violence and man you’ve loved like no other who deserves much better.
You hear the front door open and shut and your heart breaks with the sound. “Jezebel! Baby where are you?!”
You sit up and your instinct is to call out to him, but his name gets stuck in your throat. He can be heard bounding up the stairs breathing heavy. He peeks into the closet and starts to walk away when he hears you sniffle and softly whimper, “I’m here.”
In three long strides he’s where you are kicking the empty suitcase out of the way, offended that it dare come between you. He stoops down to reach your cheek. “Aww, baby, what happened?”
You blink looking into his eyes and then look away and shake your head. “I-I-I slept, Harry. I’m a horrible, horrible person…I remember that night an-an-and I fell asleep under the couch, and I didn’t do annnything,” you slur on a sob. “I-I didn’t help them. I was so scared and I just…closed my eyes. Then I-I f-f-fell asleep while my parents were dying. I’m so sorry that you’re tangled up in this. I don’t wanna ruin this amazing time in your life with my-my…shit. I’m a broken person and you deserve a whole person.”
“Whoa, Whoa, swee’heart, ya NOT a broken person. Ya’re my person. Ya’re the air I breathe. No’ even ya get ta make decisions fo’ me abou’ who I’m in love wit’,” he says pulling your chin up to face him. “We face thin’s tagether, don’ ya fuckin’ dare give up on us, hear me?” He twists to sit down on the floor with you and wraps his arm around your shoulders. “C’mere,” he says holding you close and kissing the top of your head. “Wanna tell me abou’ it?”
You slowly open up and tell him about the night you now remember. He dries your tears with his t-shirt from the hamper and even wipes away the snot dripping from your nose with it. He kisses your temple over and over, rubs his thumb over your fidgeting fingers. He even helps you out of your shoes and pulls your hair up and into a messy bun…all the while you’re recounting what you remember and sobbing along the way.
He wipes your tears gently as you finish up your memories. “I’m s’sorry, Jezebel, bu’ none of this is ya fault. Ya were probably overwhelmed an’ ya brain jus’ shut off. It was protectin’ ya from somethin’ ya couldn’t deal wi’. Sarah Jane tol’ ya tha’.”
“I know…bu’ I can’t help feeling like I failed them. And-and now I’m failing you.”
“Ya didn’t fail them an’ ya no’ failin’ me.”
“Oh really? Don’t tell me you’re not sexually frustrated! I-I saw you in the shower…wanking! I can’t even have sex with my fiancé…how can you say I’m not failing you?”
He puffs out a breath of air. “I was thinkin’ abou’ ya in the shower. Of course I miss bein’ wi’ ya, bu’ ya no’ failin’ me, Jezebel. I love ya. I’m here wi’ ya an’ fo’ ya. No matter wha’.”
You sniffle and wipe the tears coming down your face. “You are? No matter what?”
He kisses your temple and pulls you closer, his finger rubbing over your ring finger. “Forever, Jezebel. ‘M no’ goin’ anywhere.”
You bury your face in his neck. “Thank you for loving me.”
“Ya welcome.”
Harry’s phone rings and it’s the lobby indicating that Sarah Jane has arrived. “Sarah Jane is here. Imma let her in. Be righ’ back.”
You nod.
Harry pads down the stairs and buzzes Sarah Jane in, greeting her and apologizing for the late hour. He leads her up the stairs and to the bedroom and you look up from the bench at the end of the bed as they step into the room.
“Office?” Harry asks Sarah Jane.
She nods and he goes to the bed to collect you.
You sigh and stand up allowing him to lead you to the office and you sit on the couch and he sits down next to you.
Sarah Jane sits in the chair and you tell her everything that’s happened over the past two days. The watch, the case being closed, meeting the family at the concert and your memories finally coming back; your feelings of failure about your parents and Harry.
Sarah Jane listens intently, taking notes. Once you’re done she puts her pen down. “What could you have done to help your parents?”
“I could’ve called for help instead of going to sleep!”
“You’ve read the death certificates. What did they say?”
You sigh. You know what she’s getting at. “They were already dead, I know that.”
“Then what what would you have been able to do for them?”
You run your hands down your face. “I don’t know, ok?! I just know I should’ve done something is all I know!”
Sarah Jane nods. “You were a child and your brain was overwhelmed. Your body shut down in order to protect you. You can’t blame yourself.”
“I just…I can’t help but think that maybe it would’ve been different if I hadn’t fallen asleep.”
“That’s perfectly natural but you need to know that nothing would’ve changed.” She pauses to let her words sink in. “Do you think there’s more to relationships than sex?”
“What?! Well, yes of course, oh my god!”
“Ok, then why do you think you’re failing Harry because you’re not having sex?”
You throw your hands up and stand up, pacing. “I know he wants to! I caught him having a wank in the shower. We’ve always…we’ve always had an active sex life…I crave him and it scares me that I can’t seem to get into it. I miss being with him and how much longer can he put up with not having sex?”
Harry opens his mouth to speak and Sarah Jane shakes her head. “You can’t get turned on because your mind is preoccupied. This isn’t permanent. You’re on the road to healing and you’re going to get better and you’ll regain interest in everything…including sex.”
“You think so?”
“Of course and I’m still here for you for as long as you need me. And you have Harry and your friends. You’ll get through this, I promise.”
You sigh and tears slide down your face. “I hope so. I want to…feel like myself again.”
“I’m going to give you a sedative so you can sleep and you can call me tomorrow if you need me. If not, let’s plan to talk the next day.”
You nod and Harry leads you to the bedroom. You lay down and Sarah Jane administers the sedative.
“Call me if you need me…either one of you,” she says and you both nod.
Once she’s gone, Harry crawls in the bed behind you and snuggles up to you, holding you until you fall asleep.
He rolls over and grabs your phone and texts Mac letting him know that you want to meet Fitz and to set it up for tomorrow. Once he gets the thumbs up sign back, he puts the phone back and snuggles back up to you. He wakes up with a start, his breath catching in his throat as he hears your phone ping. He checks it and sees the message from Mac that the appointment with Fitz is today and he’ll be there at 11 am. He checks and it’s still early so he decides to go to the gym and let you sleep. He leaves you a note in case you wake up while he’s gone. He comes back from the gym and quietly into the bedroom and you’re still asleep. He pauses just looking at you sleep. For the first time since you started remembering, your face is finally relaxed and you appear to be sleeping peacefully. He smiles and kisses your forehead and goes to the bathroom to take a quick shower. When he comes out of the en-suite, he sees you stir and your eyes open. He’s standing in the doorway of the en-suite and your eyes meet his and for the first time in a while you smile at him. Not a forced, plastic fake smile you’ve been doing lately. He smiles that beautiful smile back at you and notices your eyes moving down his body, and he watches as you bite your bottom lip before moving your gaze back up to his. He rolls his lips into his mouth as you just stare into each other’s eyes.
He’s the one who breaks the spell by coming over and kissing your lips. “Mac’ll be here at 11 and we’ll go see Fitz if you’re still up for it?”
“Yes. I want to hear what he has to say. I owe it to myself…and the memory of my parents.”
He nods. “Ok, better get ready then.”
You’re standing behind Mac in front of Fitz’ door, holding Harry’s hand tightly. He squeezes your hand back and you let out a puff of air as the door opens. The caretaker lets you in and leads you into a bedroom where you see a gaunt figure in the bed. You hear the caretaker say, “they’re here,” and she gestures you closer.
You take a deep breath and move closer to the side of the bed and look into his eyes.
His mouth is open and breathing is more like a wheeze. “Is it her? The little Rose girl?” He asks, looking back and forth between you and Mac. Harry is just beside you, his arm around your waist.
“Yes, hi, it’s me and this is my…f-boyfriend, Harry, and of course you know Mac.”
“I wanted to see you and tell you I’m sorry for what happened. I should’ve stopped it, but O’Malley was quicker and took over, damn him. You weren’t supposed to be there. I knew your parents a little bit, that’s why your mum let me in the door after hours. My parents are from the old country and my da used to have me take him to your parents shop every now and then.” He closes his eyes and grabs the oxygen mask next to him to suck in a few breaths and grabs your hand. “I’m sorry. I knew you were under the couch. I couldn’t save your parents but I knew I could save you. I don’t expect you to forgive me, but I wanted to apologize for the part I played in your parents death.”
Tears are running down your cheeks. “I forgive you.”
“You’re so beautiful. You look just like your da but you got your mum’s green eyes. I wish I could’ve saved them too.”
“I do too, but thank you for saving me.”
He squeezes your hand. “Thank you for coming to meet me. I wouldn’t have blamed you if you said no.”
“You’re welcome.”
He places the oxygen mask back in his face and the caretaker comes to stand on the other side of the bed. “I think it’s best if you go now. He didn’t take his medicine today so he would be awake to meet with you.”
You all nod.
Fitz let’s go of your hand and you say your goodbyes.
“Y’all go on out to the car. I gotta talk to Fitz for a minute.”
You get in the car and Harry settles in next to you. “How’re ya feeling?”
You sigh and grab one of his hands in yours. “I’m tired but I feel good for the first time in weeks. Thank you.”
“Ya welcome, my Jezebel. Do anythin’ fo’ ya, know tha’.”
You drop your head back against the headrest and close your eyes letting out a soft sigh. Your shoulders relax and the muscles in your jaw slack with release. Harry reaches over and gently tugs your cheek until your head falls onto his shoulder, places his lips to your temple and holds for a moment before pulling away and looking out the window as the car pulls away. For some reason you feel…differently. Different on the inside, with a different view of your past…a different view of, as philosophically cliché as it might sound, of humanity. Forgiveness really is as much for yourself as for anyone…there’s not as much room for hate and pain when you fill yourself with forgiveness and hope. No, you’ll never forget what happened, never forget what those men did, but you’re now determined to see that it make you a better person, rather than the shell you’ve allowed it to make of you over the last couple of weeks. The stream of nightmares that started as far back as, wow, Harry’s show in Paris won’t win, because you have conquered the forgotten fear. You welcome the memory because what you didn’t remember was far worse than what finally flashed through your mind. In your effort to forget the pain, you had also pushed back so much love that needed to be remembered…needed to be embraced and even shared. Your parents love for each other, their love for you…that’s a bright spot…one that you carry on in your love, connection and passion you have with Harry. You first learned love from your parents…that is their legacy…YOU are their legacy. And to push that away would be a crime in itself. Your life has been filled with incredible gifts of love from others…your Aunt and Uncle who took you in, the friends you made in University, their families who also took you in…Gemma…Anne…Robin......Harry. And now you have even more family who have also taken you in, from Cal up in the driver seat, to Lambert who saw to you after that dreadful scene at the show…to Sarah, Mitch, their little one, the band, the crew…the bundles of people who have embraced your podcast and helped families find justice. Ron and Helen, two of the warmest souls you’ve ever known and all of that love and sunlight came with Harry. He reaches down in the silence to pull your legs over his in the seat and he softly strokes the outside of your thigh as he holds you close to him. Suddenly the weight of it all feels so much lighter; you feel lighter. You lean up to kiss his jaw, taking a moment to nose under his ear. “I love you, Harry.”
“Oh baby, love ya s’much. Shut ya beautiful eyes, swee’heart. When we get back, I’ll run ya a warm bubble bath. Hope ya don’ mind, but had Bella run a very important errand fo’ me. Told her I’d pay her extra, bu’ she wasn’t hearin’ it,” he murmurs thickly against your temple.
“Oh, H, that poor girl left the Hamptons last night to come running to me…I know, she’s my assistant, but she’s my friend first and foremost. I don’t want her to think I’m taking advantage of her because I’m such a mess at the moment.”
“Babe, ‘s BECAUSE ya her friend tha’ she’d do anythin’ fo’ ya…yeah, ya pay her ta help wi’ tha podcast an…and the website, but she wan’s ta be there fo’ her friend…no’ her employer. She’s runnin’ ta Pete’s fo’ me to bring back a pot of Carina’s tomato bisque an’ a couple of fresh bagguettes. An’ I bet, if I ‘no Pete there’ll be somethin’ sweet too. Ya need somethin’ in ya tummy an’ Carina’s bisque is warm and delicious…a lot like you, Jezebel,” he says thickly.
You sigh and notice for the first time in a while you don’t feel like you are gonna burst into sobs of sadness, or guilt because someone is doing something…caring for you. “Thank you, honey. You’re so good to me, and have been so patient,” you yawn rather inelegantly and blush as you close your mouth. “Sorry…,” you say with a sheepish smile.
Harry leans forward to kiss the corner of your mouth. “Like I was sayin’ how abou’ a bath, and some soup and…why don’ ya take the night ta just rest, yeah? Bella can stay over…I mean, I ‘no fo’ a fact tha’ she’s not got a date planned ‘cause Gavin’s runnin’ tha show tanight,” he says nosing around the hairline on your neck causing your body to flush with goosebumps, “Those two ‘ave become quite a pair. Gavin’s completely crazy fo’ Bells....”
You feel your nipples tighten and you gulp a mouthful of air. “Uh-mmm…yeah…ahh…she’s very, very taken with him…think he’s…mmm…introduced her to a, ummm, very new side of herself…one she’s embracing thoroughly,” you say loving the feel of his stubble on the sensitive skin of your neck.
“Oh really…?” he whispers with a smirk against your skin as he pulls your legs closer in to his pelvis.
You gulp again, “Yeah….”
The car slows and Harry pulls away only enough to look into your eyes. “Bath…Soup…a night in wi’ ya bestie, sound good?”
You nod searching his eyes back and forth. God they’re so beautiful. HE is so beautiful. You can’t fathom just how in love with him you are. The fact that that exact same feeling is staring back at you is mind-blowing. Just as you open your mouth to go in for a deep kiss, it just keeps opening and another unladylike yawn takes over your body. You close your mouth and shake your head slightly.
“’F I dinna ‘no wha’ ya been through the last few weeks, might be offended by tha’, bu’ ‘m no’ seein’ how ya haven’ had any decent rest,” he says chuckling and kissing your forehead.
The car pulls into the private parking garage and you see Bella’s little crimson colored Mercedes parked in the guest spot. “Looks like Bells is already here,” you say running a hand through your hair.
Harry looks at his phone for the time, “Got just enough time to run ya a bath and make sure ya settled before I need ta hit the road. Be back as soon as I can, though.”
“H…I can do my own bath…why don’t you just go on and get a little rest in the dressing room before, I’ll be fine,” you nod toward the crimson car, “Bella is here, we’ll eat some soup together and I’ll crash. She can have the downstairs guest room. I mean it, go on, go listen to some music and relax a little, I’ll see ya when ya get home, ok?” you say running your fingers through his hair.
“Are you sure, love?” he asks pulling his head back a little and staring intently.
You smile reassuringly and run the back of your fingers down in his cheek, “Yes, Harry, I’m sure.”
He closes his eyes at the feel of your fingers and turns his head so he can kiss them, “God, ‘m so fuckin’ ‘appy ta see tha’ smile reach ya eyes,” he says as his own tear up.
“I’m sorry, I know this has been hard for you…please don’t cry…” you say brushing a tear that’s dropped on his cheek.
“Jesus, Jezebel…been s’worried abou’ ya…jus’…wanted ta fix it s’bad…hate feelin’ so….helpless,” he says as more drops fall and he kisses the inside of your wrist.
“I feel like I’m on the downside of it all…ya know? Like tha worst has happened and now, it’s just a matter of wrapping it all up and learning to live with what happened. Find the silver lining. Go on living. Remember the love and lessons…”
“Spend ya life wi’ me…,” he softly interjects.
“Spend my whole life loving you,” you whisper in agreement. “Go on, mister,” you say straightening his jacket. “Harry Styles, international Grammy winning Pop artist, songwriter, musician, soon to be award-winning actor, amazing friend, spectacular son and brother. Adventurous, considerate, toe-curling lover.”
The latter gets a smirk out of him. “Think ya make me way more successful than I really am, but I definitely love being ya lover,” he says kissing your neck, “ya go get some rest, gonna miss ya tanight…my good luck charm, my Jezebel.”
“I’ll miss you too, but Bells and I will stalk fan pics on social media. Wake me up when you get home.”
“Sorry, darlin’, no can do. I wan’ ya ta catch up, but I’ll happily crawl in bed wi’ ya when I get in.”
“OK, I’ll prolly wake up when ya get in anyway. I love you, sir. Finger’s crossed no nightmares,” you say crossing fingers on both hands and holding them up for him to see.
He kisses them both and then your lips before leading you out of the car and over to the elevator where he kisses you once more leaving you breathless. The elevator doors close and you’re on your way up to your shared apartment. Once there you rush past Bella to the wall of windows and watch as his car pulls out of the parking garage and turns down the street. You nibble on your fingers and sigh.
Bella walks up beside you, puts her arm around your waist and leans her head on your shoulder. “He’s pretty spectacular, isn’t he?” she says with a sigh.
“Yes, he is… but what are you all swoony about…? Mr. Gavin isn’t too shabby himself. And from what I hear he’s crazy about you!” you say kissing the top of her head.
She blushes and looks to her feet. “Yeah, I think he is…but I’m so…same…so same!” She twirls off of your shoulder and swings her arms twirling around as if any moment she’s gonna break out with, “The hills are alive with the sound of music…”
You turn and cover your mouth with the back of your hand before a giggle slips out.
“What are you laughing at!” she says stopping to put her hands on her hips. She stares for a minute, then throws her arms down in surrender. “Oh, who cares! I’m just so glad to see you laughing…,” she says running to throw her arms around you. “So, Harry said you were in for a bath, some soup and some down time tonight. Go grab your bath,” she says swatting your bum. “Soups in the kitchen. My God, Carina and her carb-laden bread….To. Die. For,” she says groaning animatedly.
You throw your head back in a groaning agreement, “YASSSS, I WILL be taking a piece of that carb-laden bread with me to my bath, and I will watch my naked belly bloat as I enjoy every crumb of it…I. Just. Don’t. Care!” you say heading toward the kitchen.
You cut a slice and pop a piece in your mouth and hold up the other to Bella’s mouth when she gets bug eyed. “Oh, you got a package last week! I’ve been holding on to it because I know it’s not work related, but it came to the podcast mailbox.”
You furrow your brows, “What is is?”
She grins and sucks in her bottom lip. “It’s from Hayley’s business. My guess it’s the lingerie from our PJ party. I’m dying to see who got your name and what you got!”
“Well…” to say twirling you hand, “WHERE IS IT!” you say excitedly.
She reaches over to the bar stool where her backpack is and pulls out a box that looks no bigger than a 8 by 10 picture frame.
“Oh my god, that’s all! That’s the WHOLE package?” you ask incredulously.
Bella just giggles and nods, “Yup, it’s def not a pair of flannel pajamas…”
You set the box down and look from it to the bread and back to it again…then back at the bread. “Fuck it,” you say popping it in your mouth.
You look over at Bella who is still chewing and slicing another slice. God you love that girl!
You start to walk away and you hear a very mouthful muffle, “Oaur Naur yaur don!” she says pulling at the back of your t-shirt.
You turn to look at her as she finishes chewing and finally swallows. “You’re not leavin’ without looking and I have to see…I’ve been holding on to that for too long, I getta see it too!”
You roll your eyes and tilt your head to one side, “I was afraid you’d say that…”
“Come on, let’s go to the bedroom,” she says grabbing your wrist and the gift and pulling you toward the stairs. You’re following along until suddenly she stops and turns to look at you with a smirk, then, still holding on to your wrist circles around and back into the kitchen to the fridge. Looking at her hands, flustered, she’s not about to drop your wrist OR the gift, “Here, hold this!” she says handing the gift to you. Still holding your wrist as if you were going to fly away, she throws open the fridge door and grabs a take out plastic container with plastic spoons taped to the top. You raise an eyebrow curious as to what she is doing.
“Tiramisu…You’re doing lingerie; I’m doing your Tiramisu,” she says with a shrug.
“Oh no you’re not! You’re sharing that…lingerie be damned, Pete’s Tiramisu is to die for!”
Her shoulders slump as she reconsiders, like she actually has a choice here. “Ok, deal. Come on!”
You both pile on the bed you start to open the box and Bella opens the plastic container of the delicious Italian dessert. Just as you’re about to take the top off the box, you stop and look at her, “Give me a bite, I need courage and I may never wanna eat it again after I see what’s in here. Don’t be stingy, give me a real bite!”
She dips the spoon in and pulls out a nice size scoop and feeds it to you. It’s eye-rollingly incredible, creamy, lightly chocolately with a hint of espresso. Utterly delightful. You savor the bite and look down at the box and back at Bella who has the spoon in her mouth turned upside down pulling it out slowly. You can help, but fall forward giggling at her antics. You raise up and take a deep breath and pull the box top off, peeling the soft pink tissue and you both peer inside. You see what looks like a tangle of half inch black satin ribbons intermingled with small triangles of iridescent nude lace floral pieces. There’s a pink envelop and a black velvet bag about five inches long.
“Read the card! Read the card!” Bella says pointing with her spoon.
You open the card and read it aloud. “Dearest Watermelon Sugar, Cheers to making many memories in this. It’s perfect for you and H. Added a little toy for a new exciting experience. Try it out…you won’t regret… Much love, Milena.”
“Milena got your name, no wonder there’s so little to it. Look there’s something written on the back,” Bella says huddling in.
You turn the card over to read, “PS. Have Harry put a lock on the pool house in Italy…you never know who might accidentally spy you two having a little ‘rendezvous’. That’s unless you’re into being seen.” Pulling the card to your face you howl and blush furiously.
“I don’t even wanna know…,” Bella says digging her spoon in again.
You continue by pulling out the lingerie and are surprised at how incredibly beautiful and tastefully placed the lace pieces are on the delicate straps. The thong panty has an attached waist cincher with hook and eye closures down the front. The sides attach to the panties making it one piece and the bra is a simple triangle cup set with ribbon outlining the edges.
You chew another bite of tiramisu and take a deep breath before opening the box. She very graciously included a picture so you could get the full effect. Your mouth drops open as you hold it up and you smile when you see that it’s velvet.
“Wow…that’s…it’s beautiful,” Bella says, fingers reaching out to touch the material. “It’s so sexy but also really delicate.” She eats another bite and then offers you a bite which you gladly accept.
“She has great taste. Jesus…Harry’ll be happy,” you say giggling.
“What’s he like in bed? I’m sorry! I’m just…I’m dying to know.”
You turn to sit in front of her cross legged and grab the spoon for another bite before you answer. “He’s…intense. He’s dominant but also really gentle and he loves to…ummm…please me. He’s the best sex I’ve ever had. We’ve haven’t had sex in a couple of weeks with everything that’s gone on and I miss it. You really wanna know?”
Bella nods her head yea, eyes wide, spoon in mid-air.
“Sex with him is like a drug…and I’m totally addicted to him.”
“Woooowww…damn! I’m really really happy for you,” she says offering you another bite.
“Thank you. How’s life with Gavin?”
Bella blushes. “He’s so fun and cute and…uh…he gives it to me so good!” She says, covering her face with her hands, spoon straight up in the air.
You giggle. “I’m glad. We should be having amazing, earth shattering sex dammit!”
“Yeah!” Bella says and you both collapse into giggles.
“I’m starved. I need soup and carbs. Let’s go back downstairs!” You tell her, bath forgotten.
“Wait…there’s something else in here.” Bella says, holding up a black velvet bag. “Jewelry?”
“For which body part?” You say, giggling.
Bella almost chokes on the last bite of tiramisu.
You giggle and pull the gift out…and your mouth drops open.
“What is it?” Bella asks.
“I…ummm…it’s a Wharton’s Wheel,” you say running the spiky wheel over her arm.
“Ohhhhh…oh wow…like to use during sex?”
You nod. “Ummm, yes. Let’s just put this in the closet so Harry doesn’t find it,” you say gathering up the box and the tool and running to the closet to stash it in a drawer.
Bella’s still on the bed, mouth hanging open.
“Bells? You ok?”
She nods slowly. “Yeah…let’s go eat!”
“Gavin needs to take you to Pete’s Place,” you tell Bella as she ladles out soup for you both as you slice the bread and set out the butter.
“I’d love to go there!”
“Wait till you taste this!” You tell her as you both sit down and you watch her take a bite.
“Oh.my.god!”
“I know! It’s so so good. Eat up!” You tell her as you both dig in. You’re just enjoying spending time with Bella, eating Carina’s delicious soup, and feeling like a normal human being for the first time in weeks. By the last bite, you’re getting sleepy. “I’m more tired than I realized, I think,” you say as you drop your spoon in the empty bowl.
“Go get in the bath and I’ll clean up here.”
“You don’t have to do that.”
“I do, actually or this wonderful soup will go bad and then I won’t be able to take it home with me,” she says, giggling.
You throw your head back and laugh and it feels so good. “It’s all yours! I’m gonna take a bath and go to bed. Are you ok in the guest room? Got everything you need?”
“I do…this place…your house is amazing!”
“Thank you. I love you, sweet Bells! Goodnight and thank you for everything,” you tell her, hugging her tightly.
“I love you. Goodnight,” she says quietly.
You take a bath and slip under the covers, breathing in Harry’s delicious scent. You drift off to sleep smiling thinking of him and fall into a deep sleep.
You feel him slip under the covers and you’re eyes fly open as his arms wrap around you. “Mmmm…you’re so warm, baby,” he says, against your ear and you feel the goosebumps break out on your skin. You roll over to face him. “I (kiss) missed (kiss) you (kiss)”, you tell him.
He smiles and kisses you deeply, his tongue at the seam of your lips and then his tongue is tangling with yours, tasting you and all you can do is give in…to the kiss, to this feeling…to him. He kisses you until you’re breathless and you feel the familiar ache of wanting him buried deep inside you and when he rolls over and presses against you, eyes meeting yours in the early morning light, you nod your head in response to his silent request and then he’s inside you, moving and hitting your spot over and over and over until you’re shaking and cumming with a shout of his name.
Your eyes fly open and you take a huge breath of air, the afternoon sun spilling in through the drapes and you try to get your bearings. You can still feel your pussy pulsing from your dream…but it had seemed so real! You look around and listen for sounds of life but all you hear is silence. You grab your phone and see a text from him letting you know that he’s already at the venue and Cal’s waiting if you need him to get you anything or take you anywhere. You see another text from Bella saying that she didn’t want to wake you but she has to go back to the Hamptons for more research and she’ll talk to you tomorrow. Right now all you care about is Harry. You’ve been in this horrible funk for weeks - lost in your own mind and finally you feel like yourself again. Sarah Jane was right all along…your desire for Harry would come back and it has. You get up and go to the walk in to find a cute dress and some skimpy lingerie and then to the bathroom to curl your hair into soft waves and apply your best makeup. You’ve tucked, tied and hooked every scrap of black lace in place on your body, the sheer spaces between the flowers of the lace cling tightly to your softness and show so much skin it looks like the lace is painted on. Your nipples pebble at the sight as you look in the mirror, twisting and turning to look at yourself. You’re a walking scandal in this tight get up courtesy of Milena. God, you feel the wetness dampen the fabric between your legs. If this is how you feel now, how’re you going to make it through the night. God it’s been too long…you’ve missed his touch, the smell of his skin, the pinch as he enters you. Yeah, it’s time to bring him home and show him how much you need him. You bend forward one last time to plump your breasts in the cups of bra closing your eyes and gasping at the feel of the fabric shifting over your sensitive nipples. You move to the closet and veer off to Harry’s side hoping the shirt you wanna wear is here and not in London. “Please, please, please…,” you beg the gods as you sift through his shirts. “Bingo!” you say as you rise on tip-toes to reach the hanger. The pink button up with black piping and emboideried “Styles” on the right breast. It’s an oldie, but it’s one of your favorites of his…one you remember seeing him in when his hair was long and you were quietly pining away for him. You hold it to your body and spin; after all you’ve been through the last few weeks it’s good to finally begin to feel like you’ve got the past put where it belongs and are looking forward to a future filled with hope, possibility and love. You slip the shirt over your shoulders and tie it at the waist. You can see the darkness of the lingerie through the fabric, but you throw modestly to the wind and, in fact, reach up and undo one more button to give just a peek of the black lace at your cleavage. Sliding into a pair of distressed, cutoff shorts and a pair of maroon Adidas sans socks, you choose to wear his cologne because for all the beautiful smells you have in your collection of perfumes, nothing makes you feel sexier than to smell like him. No, that’s not entirely true, smelling like him and his cum makes you feel the sexiest. “Naughty,” you say to yourself in the full length mirror.
You grab your phone and text Cal that you’re on your way down. You add in your message, that you want to keep this a surprise so if he would escort you inside so you don’t have to alert anyone else who might spill to H that you had a change of mind about coming to the show tonight. It’s late enough now, and you know how the show’s manage time enough now to know that Blood Orange will be finishing up their set and if you play it right, he should find you within a few minutes of being on stage.
Cal drives around the block a couple of times to waste some time before he enters the underground parking at the Garden. He does a double take when he looks in the rear-view mirror and sees you fluffing your hair with freshly slathered lip gloss.
“He’s gonna swallow his tongue, tonight, miss,” Cal says with a smile.
“You’re too nice, Cal,” you say returning his smile.
“He’s been worried about you…you can see it in his eyes.”
“Well, I was worried about me too there for a while, but now, I think I’m on my way back and….I…I’ve missed him so much, I mean…I know I’ve been with him all this time…but I’ve missed really being with him…giving him 100% of myself, yanno?” you confess.
“Well, excuse me for speaking out of turn, but I can guarantee that he’s been missing you too, miss. Worried and longing…I’ve seen it in his eyes…on his face…they way he looks out the window despondent at times.”
You look down at your hands feeling guilty and sad at the thought of Harry being despondent. A soul as pure as his should never be sad.
“Hey, don’t go beatin’ y’self up about it…kay? That’s what love is about…feeling what the other one feels and trying to work it out. He loves you, deeply. You’re his gift, his peace,” he unlocks the doors, “now, let’s go give him a big surprise, yeah?” He steps out and opens the door for you, “Go be his gift tonight,” he says shutting the door and holding out his elbow to escort you.
You take Cal’s arm and sigh. He drops you at the door to the backstage and a crew member smiles and ushers you in. You wave goodbye to Cal. You feel a surge of excitement that you haven’t felt in so long as you walk through the tunnels backstage happy that you’re not seeing anyone. You know he’s probably in the soft goods box right now so you can really surprise him. You smile as you make your way to the side of the pit that’s for friends and family. Everyone who sees you comes over to hug and kiss you and ask how you’re feeling. When the band comes on stage and gets settled, you wave at all of them frantically and you can see them beaming and waving back at you. Your heart races as the house lights go all the way down and the opening graphics fill the screen. You can’t remember the last time that you were this excited to see him on stage.
The music intensifies and then drops away and you see the spotlight in the middle of the stage and then the stage opens and you see him ascend from the depths of the stage and the crowd erupts in screams as they see him. You’re mouth drops open as he appears and you hear the chords of Daydreaming start up. He hasn’t noticed you yet but you can’t stop looking at him. Light blue flat front velvet trousers and a matching velvet vest and no shirt. He looks like sex on a platter and you can feel a shot of pure arousal shoot through your body and it surprises you with the intensity. It feels like so long that you actually felt this feeling. When Golden starts you feel his eyes slide over your section and he falters just a moment as he sees you. His eyes slide down your body and you see him gulp but then, ever the consummate performer, he catches himself and keeps the lyrics going. You scream and dance along with the crowd and when he comes close to your section, you make sure to unbutton another button on his shirt so he gets a nice view of your barely there bra and watch as his eyes go wide and his hand slowly slide down the front of his pants. Riling you up or trying to cover up an mid-concert erection or both you wonder as you watch him dance back over to the other side. He’s on fire, his movements more sexual than usual, especially during Cinema and it’s not gone unnoticed by his band. They’re smiles and knowing glances say it all, not that you notice. You don’t take your eyes off of him. His eyes don’t move from yours during Little Freak and you watch as he discreetly wipes a tear from his eye. The song - your song - seems to carry even more weight for the both of you now. You’re caught between laughing, screaming and crying throughout his entire set. Tommy comes to hug you tightly before the encore and you squeeze him back.
“Welcome back,” he says against your ear and you smile. I am back, you think. You feel the love from your parents all around you and you close your eyes briefly as Tommy pulls back and the house lights come up once again for Harry to finish his set. Tommy sways with you during Sign of the Times and jumps around with you during As It Was and Kiwi. You’re as giddy as anyone who’d paid for this privilege and you’re laughing as Tommy twirls you around for the floor shaking finale of Kiwi.
“C’mon, let’s get you backstage,” Tommy tells you as the band keeps the music going and you smile as you follow him backstage.
Slipping into the dressing room, he kisses your cheek with a wink and says, “He’ll be here before you know it.” He’s out the door and you take a deep breath.
You fidget trying to decide where to be and what to do, where to stand, “Oh for fuck’s sake,” you say to yourself feeling like you are seeing him for the first time.
You turn your back to the door and walk over to the clothing rack and run your fingers along the line up of clothing. They’re all neatly in plastic covers with an empty hanger at the front likely from where the blue velvet was hanging just a few hours ago. Damn, he looked so fucking good tonight you think as you smooth your sweaty palms down the denim of your shorts. Should I have worn shorts tonight, you think questioning yourself and feeling the nervous need to please him settle in.
Suddenly, a clacking of the door handle causes your breath to catch in your throat. The door swings open and swiftly shuts with a thud and the obvious click of the lock. You close your eyes and pull in an audible breath through your nose. For some reason you stand frozen with your back to him, unable to move even enough to look at him.
“Jezebel.”
You look over your shoulder and see him stand there leaning his back against the door, hand still on the door handle.
“Turn ‘round fo’ me.” You turn slowly and meet his stare and smile. That smile fired like a shot of the strongest drug straight to his vein flooding his bloodstream with need, a need that only you can satisfy. He pushes off the door not the least bit ashamed of the obvious erection currently tenting his trousers. It’s only a few steps, but he stalks with purpose and the look in his eyes nothing short of feral. You are his prey and he’s been circling you for weeks just waiting for your to be ready.
You can’t help but side-step and stumble slightly as your back finds the wall. He puts his hands on the wall on either side of you, one hand next to your shoulder, one up above your head. “H…?”
“Yeah, babe? D’ya ‘ave summat ta say?” he says voice thick and raspy from the set, accent thick with lust. His eyes search yours and his lips glisten from where he’s licked them.
“I need you.”
“Thank fuck,” he says as his fingers of one hand dive into the hair on the side of your neck and his thumb reaches your bottom lip. His thumb pushes and pulls the lip, “S’red…,” he says mindlessly, “Ya been bitin’ ya lip, Jezebel, hmm? Tell me, baby, ya been bitin’ this lip?” he asks as he moves his body closer, his leg situated so that his thigh is pressing against your core. “Ya let me bite tha’ lip, hmm? ‘M gonna bite this lip, an’ suck on it…an’ ‘m gon’ bite an’ suck on those lips too…” he says panting hard with his mouth millimeters away from yours, “Ya ready fo’ me…? Ya gon’ lemme ‘ave ya tanight?”
“Yes, Harry. Ar-Ar-Are you gonna kiss me?”
He just shakes his head and says, “All ov’r.”
You lick your lips the anticipation raising goosebumps and causing you to shiver all over.
There’s a knock at the door, “Harry, ice is r…”
“No’ tanight,” he responds with determination. “No, no’ tanight,” he whispers again as his mouth reaches your ear.
“Ya ready ta go home, sweet’eart?” he asks nosing your ear.
You push your hips forward against him, “Kiss me…” you whimper grasping the opening of his vest.
“So fuckin’ ‘fraid won’ be able ta stop…wan’ ya s’much.”
Leaning your forehead to his, “I want you too, please kiss me.” You smile into the tension, “Just a ‘lil taste….”
“Lyrics…,” he says just before he opens his mouth and his tongue darts out to lick the bottom lip he still thumbing. “Taste s’good, sweet, smell like me.”
“H…I want you all over me…please, take me home…make me yours,” you say frustratedly as you try to get him to kiss you.
“Cal’s got tha car ready, messaged him as soon as I could get ta ma phone. ‘Parently he was already waitin’ fo’ us.” He steps back and presses his palm against his crotch closing his eyes. “Sit, while I change…”
You move to sit on the couch and his fingers pull his vest off. He tosses it to the chair and smirks as you swallow hard, eyes large and pupils dilated.
“Should shower…’f ‘m honest, baby, need ta get rid of this…,’ he says looking down at his pants, “’Cause ‘m no’ gon’ last an’ ‘m gon’ fuck ya all nigh’, hear me?” You cross your legs and squirm in the seat, his eyes following your every movement. His expression turns serious as he leans down to kiss your forehead. “I need it, you need it. ‘ll be jus’ a second, Jezebel. Ya be alright?”
You whimper a huff of frustration, but nod your head reluctantly. “Aww, baby, won’t take long, I promise.”
He steps toward the bathroom but turns back around to lean down and devour your lips sucking the breath out of your throat. He tastes salty with sweat and the scruff of his chin is a delicious burn. “Love ya s’much.” He straightens and begins to unbutton and unzip as he heads toward the door.
As the water runs and you hear the light splashing you grip your knees trying to gain some control. Panties are ruined and stuck to the lips of your very wet pussy. Standing, you pull at the bottom hem of your shorts trying to decrease the friction of the denim pressing against your clit. You smell Harry’s soap and follow the scent to the cracked door to the bathroom and see his body reflected in the mirror over the vanity. His skin is covered in rivetlets of water, his hair wet curls. His soapy hand is fisted on his cock. You hiccup your breath and his head pulls up so that he can capture your eyes in the mirror. He simply smiles and keeps fisting. His mouth goes slack as you look at each other on the mirror and within seconds his groan turns into a growl, the muscle in his neck strain and the veins bulge. His body stiff as he releases the pent up need from the night. He’s panting and the water is dripping from his nose and chin as he keeps his eyes on you. “Jesus…” you whisper slur. You gulp and step back, as your rub your hands down your pelvis and thighs.
It only takes a couple more minutes before he comes out in joggers and a simple plain white t-shirt. He holds his hand out and pulls you to him. “Le’s go, Jezebel…’s time.”
You mouth falls open and a puff of air leaves your mouth, “I’m wet, H.”
“I know, baby, ma body can smell it…le’s get home, need ma honey.”
The car ride shouldn’t take long, his hands are controlled and he’s absurdly cool and collected and you’re collectively losing your battle with arousal. The apartment is only a few turns away, but you can’t stop the squirming. He looks out the window casually as he fingers the fringe on your shorts on the inside of your thigh. You smack your hand down on his and he simply grins and continues to look out the window like he’s not git a care in the world. You close your eyes and bite your bottom lip. Never breaking his stare out the window he reaches up and pulls your lip from your teeth, tsking. “Almos’ there, Jezebel, no’ much farther now.”
“No kidding, H…I’m almost there,” you sass back and squeeze his hand between your thighs.
He sucks in his lips trying not to chuckle, “Careful wi’ tha’ mouth, darlin’…”
“Or what, H…?” you say hoping to get a reaction… praying he’ll do something…that you can rattle this incredible control he has. He just meets your eyes and shakes his head. “Don’t you want me?” you ask on a whim.
He stares incredulously for a second then leans forward and noses your ear, “Jesus Jezebel, are ya tryna get in trouble? Swear ta Christ, ya ‘ave no fuckin’ clue how tigh’ this thread is, ‘m tryna keep it tagether. Ma heart is racin’, ma cock hurts an’ ‘m scared ‘m gonna hurt ya. ‘M tryna figure ou’ how ta take ya withou’ bein’ ta rough; how many ways I can fuck ya by mornin’. Tryna think of where tha toys an’ lube are…I’m hungry for ya, I want all of ya, I wanna show ya how much I love ya, love this body, love tha’ great big beautiful brain of yours. ‘M tryna think of who I need ta message ta make sure we ‘ave the next three days off ta fuck. An’ if ya ready fo’ tha’…’cause tha way ya danced tanight make me think ya are, bu’ I don’ wanna ‘ave misread ya. So yeah, baby, wha’ do YOU think? Do I wan’ ya?” The light spills in the car as Cal pulls into the parking garage and you both squint as it invades this moment. “Now, don’t push me until we get ta the apartment, I’m tryna maintain some privacy, babe.”
The front door clicks shut and the automatic locks latch in place. You turn to him with a soft smile.
He bends his knees slightly running his hands around to your bum as you wrap your arms around his neck. “Up,” he says as you jump and wrap your legs around his waist. He turns to the side and pushes you against the wall. Your eyes search each other’s faces. “Christ, I missed ya,” he says as his eyes dart between yours and your mouth.
“I felt so lost these last few weeks…you stayed…,” you murmur with tears in your eyes.
“’Course I stayed…ya ma love, ma everythin’. We face thin’s tagether. Ya mine fo’ fo’ever.”
“Kiss me Harry, please,” you say threading your fingers in the hair on the back of his head.
He opens his mouth and you open for him. Your tongues tangle and your heart rate picks up. He licks, and groans at your taste, you’ve missed his sexy sounds, the way he dives in deep like his very survival depends on his next taste of you. His teeth nip at your upper lip first, then your lower lip as he sucks it in between his. He pops off after several seconds just so you can both catch your breath. His nose smooshes yours and he rubs it up and down enjoying the feel of your skin and the smell of your lips.
His hips push into your core. “So warm on me, wan’ inside ya so bad. Need ta make ya cum, ov’r an’ ov’r, need ta see ya face, feel ya squeeze me…need ta hear ya say my name an’ tell me filthy thin’s ya only tell me.”
“Ya looked so good tonight, H. Your chest…your arms and you know how I feel about velvet. Did I surprise ya?”
“Fuck yeah, wha’ made ya feel like comin’ tanight?”
You blush furiously, “During my nap,” you bury your face in his neck. “I-I had a dream about us…about you…and me…in-in bed. Could feel your tongue and then I could feel you moving inside me. Just as I was about to cum I woke up…was wet and throbbing…for you.” You can feel his cock harden as you talk and unconsciously grind on him.
“Fuck, Jezebel,” he mutters against the skin of your neck just before he sucks the skin below your ear.
“Mmmm…Take me upstairs, please, I need you.”
He carries you to the stairs and you slide down his front and turn to walk up with him behind you.
“This ass,” he says, running his hand up the back of your thigh under the hem of your shorts to lightly pinch the fleshy part of your bottom.
When you get to the top of the stairs he says stop and he leans forward to kiss each cheek of your bum. “Ya wet fo’ me, love? Hmm? Gonna kiss ya all over.”
You turn and bite the side of your lip, “Harry, I’m so wet my jeans are soaked,” you say looking down from the stair landing at him a few stairs below.
“Show me.”
You look around, “Right here?”
“Righ’ here, righ’ now. Go on, spread ya legs an’ show me.”
You separate your legs, shoulder width apart and push out your hips with your hand on your tummy looking down to watch his eyes look between your legs. He reaches out a finger and runs it down the seam of your shorts right over your clit causing your breath to hitch. “Wet.” He runs his hands up the back of your thighs just before he leans forward and buries his nose between your legs. The motion pulls you forward enough to cause you to thread your fingers through his hair. “Mmmm, missed ya wetness…ya smell…go baby…go ta our bed.”
You turn and swiftly walk to the bedroom, him hot on your trail. You reach your shared bedroom where the bedside lamps are on and the curtains are pulled closed. You feel safety, warmth and love envelop you both inside the cocoon of your bedroom as he shuts the door behind him. You both kick your shoes off and begin to undress each other and steal kisses and touches along the way. You drop your shorts, untie and unbutton his shirt and leave it open to the lingerie you have on underneath.
He stops and stares. “Come here,” he says reaching for you and pulling you in close. Wrapping his arms around you tightly, “God, I missed ya,” he says against the skin of your neck. You feel him breathe deeply before he nips the skin there lightly. He pulls at his shirt that covers your shoulder to the side and kisses down the skin.
“Jesus, babe, I love ma shirt’s on ya, ‘specially ove’ lace. Swear ta god I love tha lace, jus’ righ’ now, I wan’ ya skin,” he pleads.
As you slip off the shirt and hand it to him seductively, he drapes it over the bench at the foot of the bed. He spies the crimson velvet drawstring bag from Milena’s gift. “Wha’s this?” he asks looking at you.
Unfastening the bra, you slip it from your shoulders, “Dunno, it came with the lingerie.”
He opens it and pulls out a silver tool with a handle and wheel on one end. The wheel end has little spokes and turns around spinning freely. “Ahh, yeah, seen one of these. ‘S meant ta be rolled along ya skin. Like this,” he says holding the Wartenberg Wheel by the handle and running the wheel along the inside of your arm.
“Hahh…mmm…,” you shiver at the spikey sensation as your body covers ion goosebumps
“’S good?” he asks smiling softly.
You gulp, “Yeah, it’s light, it’s sensual and erotic.”
“How’s it feel here,” he asks placing the wheel at the base of your neck and gently rolling it down your sternum, tummy, past your belly button, down to the area just above your panty waistband.
Your head falls back and a soft groan falls from your open lips. Your hands are fisted and your knuckles turn white as you roll your neck at the relaxing sensation.
Harry eyes your every movement, so very happy to see you relaxing and letting go for him. His cock twitches as you smile at the sensation of it along your pubic bone. “Do ya have any idea how fuckin’ sexy ya are…hmmm? Ya body is amazing an’ when ya let go fo’ me… ‘s a fuckin’ gift…’s my gift.” With his free hand he grabs your wrist and pulls your palm to his crotch. “Feel that? ‘M s’hard. Such a test of ma concentration…tanight seein’ ya move ta my music…sing tha words…’s a ego trip, love.”
Your head rolls forward and your eyes meet his as you run your fist up and down his hard cock. “H….There’re thousands of women out there singing and moving to your music…”
“But they aren’ you. Ya mine. I know when ya move a certain way… ‘s tha same way ya move when we fuck. Certain looks ya give are tha same as tha ones I see when ya cum.”
“Oh, H…I-I-I’m so so wet, I want, I…”
“Wha’, Jezebel…darlin’ wha’ d’ya wan’?”
“Want you mouth on me, take me away and make me cum, it’s been so long.”
He kisses you swiftly then turns you around toward the bed. “Please ge’ on ya ‘ands an’ knees fo’ me.”
You crawl up on the bed and stop in nothing by your cheeky panty. Before you can move to take the panties off, you feel the Wartenberg wheel begin at the base of your neck and roll down along your spine causing you to shiver. He doesn’t stop once it reaches the base of your spine. He continues to roll the wheel down the crease of you bum along the fabric of your panties….down and around to your lace covered clit. “Oooo, H…Harry…” you stutter as the sensation causes your body to vibrate and your sex to gush wetness.
“Good?” he questions.
“So damn good, Harry. I want more. I want your mouth,” you whine.
He pulls your panties down and helps you get them off, leaving you naked on hands and knees as he slides his hands up your back to your shoulders where he gently pushes your head down leaving your bum high in the air your sex on full display to him.
“Jesus Christ, babe, ya drippin’ fo’ me,” he says running his finger through the creamy wetness between the folds of your swollen pussy.
He drops to one knee at the foot of the bed. One hand grasps yours and the other wraps around one of your thighs as he leans forward to place a soft open-mouth kiss over your clit.
You groan and squeeze his fingers. In response he flicks his tongue out and rhythmically brushes along your sensitive bundle of nerves. “Harry!”
“Already baby?”
“Unngahh, mmm, yeah,” you say swallowing gulps of air.
“Come on sweet Jezebel, cum fo’ me…lemme see ya let go.”
“Unngah..Hahh, Hahh, Hahh…Ohmygod! Ohmygod! Ohmygod!” Your body tenses all over and your channel clenches over and over. Your thighs quiver and you pant your breath as he kisses the base of your spine. You collapse to the side shivering with release.
“Better baby?”
“Yes! Harry, I want more. I want you…no, I need you…need more of you…need you inside me, please.”
“Don’t worry swee’eart, I’ve go’ ya…need ta be inside ya.” He helps you scoot up on the bed and place your head on the pillow. You’re so lost in the moment, in the passion and need you immediately lie open for him. “Put ya hands over ya head.” You raise your hands and lay them flat, palms up on the pillow. “Yeah, just like that,” he says as he stretches out over you. He curls his fingers around yours, holding tight and moves his lips to yours. Tilting his head to one side he opens his mouth to you, kissing, licking, and tasting. “Mmm, love ya so much, no’ sure ya understand… been s’worried, wanted s’badly ta jus’ make everythin’ better, never felt s’helpless.” He murmurs against your mouth as he moves to your cheek and down to your neck just below your ear to your shoulder and then down to your nipple.
“I’m sorry I left you worrying and I’m sorry I couldn’t make love.”
He stops immediately leaving a soft kiss next to your nipple. “Baby I don’ halfta penetrate ya ta make love ta ya. We make love wi’ tha time we spend tagether, we make love when we jus’ show up fo’ one another. Ev’ry show, ev’ry moment ya been on tha road wi’ me, ya make love ta me. Ya had some shit ta deal wi’… we dealt an’ we made it out jus’ fine…we’re still dealin’ an’ we’ll ‘ave more come up through tha years, we’ll make love through those moments too, yeah?” he says eyes meeting yours.
You smile and thrust your hips up, rubbing your clit on his hard shaft. “But now…Harry…now, I want you to fuck me, please.” You squeeze his fingers and try to move your hands, but he’s got a firm hold on them against the mattress. The pinned sensation driving you wild, “Just let go of all the control you’ve had tonight, because I need your wild as much as I need the tender side of you. I need to feel you deep… I-I’m aching for you and it’s been so long since you just took me.”
He smirks and draws his eyes back to your nipple.
“Bite…” you whisper.
Keeping his eyes focused on you, his tongue darts out just as his mouth latches on and you immediately feel his teeth roll your sensitive bud. You squeeze his hands and suck in your lips with a moan, “Yeeessss…” you whimper, savoring the pleasure mixed with the bit of pain. “Harder…” you whine. You draw your knees up to cradle more of him and feel more of his cock. “It’s been so long, H…”
He releases one hand long enough to reach down and run his sensitive head along your slit. Your brows furrow at the sensation, and you can’t help pushing into the nudge at your entrance. He tries to push in and feels just a slight of resistance. “Relax for me, baby.”
You take a deep breath and try to relax a little more. But you still feel the tightness and grimace just a little.
“Take a deep breath an’ push out fo’ me.”
You do as he asks and he pushes in deep, “Haaaarrrryyy,” you whisper-gasp, “stings a little…but I’m ready for you to move.” He pulls out and then thrusts back in as deep as before, but holds still. You squeeze his hands, “don’t stop…”
“Ya sure?”
“So sure…I want you…all of you…”
“Ya go’ me, Jezebel, all of me…” He pulls out and thrusts back in over and over steady…never slowing.
Although you’ll likely be sore, you relish the pinch.
“God, ya feel s’fuckin’ good, Jezebel, Jesus fuckin’ Christ…uhhh…I’ve missed ya…missed my cunt, missed the way ya feel, the way ya sound, the way ya look…”
You feel a rush of wetness and you move your hips under his and your fingers grip his hand. “I’ve missed you, Harry….so, so much! Feels so good!”
“Yeah?” He says, grinding his hips into yours.
You nod, lips brushing his he’s so close. “Yes! Ahhh…mmmm…” eyes fluttering closed.
“Eyes open, Jezebel. Wanna see ya…wanna see ya as I take ya.”
You open your eyes and smile as you see him looking at you, his eyes sparkling with his love for you.
He smiles back at you. “Love it when ya smile when I’m fuckin’ ya,” he breathes out, pressing his lips to yours.
You lift your legs higher on his sides causing him to slip in a little deeper. You moan into his mouth as his tongue tangles with yours. You smile as he picks up the pace and his kisses trail down your cheek to your neck and then his head pops up to meet your eyes again. You’d missed this feeling so much…the way he fills you up, yes, but also the connection you feel when he makes love to you.
He shifts and you gasp as he hits your g spot. “Righ’ there?”
“Yes! Ungh!” You say as he hits your spot on every thrust.
“Ya feel s’good baby…fuck, fuck, fuck, can feel ya pulsin’…shit!”
“Mmmm…”
“Eyes on me, Jezebel. Wanna see ya cum fo’ me.” He knows you’re close. “Cum fo’ me, baby. Need ya ta cum.”
“Harry!” It’s a sharp cry of his name as you feel your orgasm hit you full force and you say his name over and over again as everything goes white.
Somewhere in the distance you can hear his loud “fuck!” and feel him still buried deep inside you but you’re shaking. You open your eyes as he lets go of your wrist and your hands slap down on his shoulders.
“Ya need ta cum again, don’ ya?”
You whisper out a soft yes.
You don’t break eye contact as his fingers move between you and he finds your clit and his fingers move on your sensitive skin. “Go on then, Jezebel. Cum fo’ me again.”
Your hands grip his shoulders tight as you feel another orgasm rip through you and this time it’s you who’s nearly screaming.
“Fuck! Let everyone how good I’m makin’ ya feel…fuck!” He says, rolling over beside you and pulling you into him.
Your fingers are still shaking as you move your hand to the hair on the nape of his neck. “I missed you…missed this. The way you make me feel…our connection.”
He nuzzled his nose into yours. “Know ya did, Jezebel. Missed it s’much. Gonna show ya how much I missed it fo’ the next three days.”
“Promise?”
He laughs his breathy little laugh. “Promise. I’ll fuck ya til ya can’t walk if ya wan’.”
You smile at each other and then he presses his lips to yours and all you can think about is how happy you are.
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Dreamling Week Day I: Meowpheus
I am so normal about Dreamling, I can't even begin to explain just how normal I am! Truly! So normal!! The thought of them doesn't send me into a fluffy fluff spiral or anything!!! I promise I'm normal about them!!! Why are you walking away??? Wait—
Anyway, happy Dreamling Week one and all! :3 I don't think I'll write something for every day of it, but here's my first contribution. Expect it up on AO3 at... some point? Enjoy some tooth-rottingly fluffy gay shenanigans. Fuck segues, you don't need segues when you have the Dreaming.
WC: 1,479
----
He was just on the edge of sleep, thoughts drifting off somewhere far away from him. They swayed as a sea, cycling like the tide, the steady in- and out-rush of water and sand. Hob could nearly hear it, if he just listened a little closer—
A weight leapt onto Hob's bed, waking him from his half-doze. He blinked blearily through the darkness, registering a shape that looked an awful lot like a housecat, only fuck-off huge. A pair of onyx eyes that sparkled through the dim room met his, glowing with distant starlight—the sort that had become nigh-invisible in modern London, so not a reflection or trick of the light—which tickled something at the back of his mind. "Dream?" he mumbled.
The cat settled beside him, just within his reach. It tilted its head at him. Good evening, Hob Gadling.
"What're you doing here?"
Do I need a particular reason to visit a friend? Dream teased, cocking his head.
"No, it's just—" Hob yawned, cutting himself off. "I'm not used to seeing you without a reason, is all."
Dream stretched, a low purr rumbling through the bed. Am I bothering you?
"Not at all." Hob extended a hand, fingers brushing against night-dark fur so soft and feather-fine he could barely feel it. Dream didn't move, so he dug a little deeper, scratching the top of Dream's head. The same bone-deep purr rattled up his arm as Dream leaned into Hob's touch. He was significantly more accepting of touch as a cat than as a... whatever he called that almost-human shape that had graced most of their visits. "I'm not going to make for very good conversation tonight, I'm afraid."
Then it is fortuitous I did not come for conversation, hm? Dream flicked an ear in a half-joking gesture. Sleep, Hob Gadling. Rest well in my presence.
Hob was, belatedly, glad that Dream had appeared to him in this form—the thought of his hands bruising that marble flesh made his head do all sorts of things he couldn't process. The cat was different—there was no temptation to lose himself in stormy eyes or to kiss the delicate skin in the hollow of Dream's throat. He had spent centuries without even the least sign of reciprocation, but the more frequent visits of the previous six months left him starving in an entirely different way than usual. No, he decided, brushing a knuckle against the warm skin at the base of Dream's ear, the cat was a distraction most welcome.
He fell asleep with surprising ease for sharing a bed with a large, unfamiliar cat who just-so-happened to be his oldest friend (were he more awake as the words passed his thoughts, he'd chuckle with only the slightest bit of mirth). The deep, soothing purring of cat-Dream didn't hurt, either. It invited sleep, drew it in as though putting him on a sea with his blankets as a wave. Hob wasn't really sure if it was part-and-parcel of Dream's whole thing or not, but the question died like a candle as he faded into unconsciousness.
They were strolling through an indistinct blur of a park, the sun bright but not burning, each of them holding a cone of soft-serve ice cream. "You must truly wish to see me, Hob Gadling," Dream commented in a voice that had a quality not unlike gravity. His appearance also seemed much more—vibrant or saturated would be the wrong word for how little colour there was about him, but the whites seemed truer, the blacks more absolute. Yet he still blended beautifully with the gentle greens and blues of their surroundings.
Hob was more awake then he had any right to be, but his mind remained a little sluggish still. At least he could tell he was dreaming. "Is— is this because you were with me?"
Dream shook his head, the slightest hint of what might be a smile teasing his lips. "No. And I am still with you, in the Waking world. You are the one who called me here."
"I'm... sorry?" Hob tried, unsure of what one should say in such a circumstance. He wondered if anyone else had ever been in his place before—then dismissed the thought as quickly as it came, a painful pang of jealousy in his heart. His relationship with Dream was still too fragile, still too brittle to test its boundaries. Hob could wait, if he truly had to, for Dream to show some sign of reciprocation; he could also survive millennia on the hope alone. God only knew he'd survived the last few hundred years with little more than hope, at least partially for his strange—and, until recently, nameless—friend.
Either Hob was showing more than he intended of his feelings, or Dream is just in his head, because those starry eyes softened. "You have no reason to apologise. It is a pleasure to spend time with you."
"Well, at least the weather is lovely today."
Dream glanced up at the sky. "Yes, it is," he agreed.
Hob noticed that his ice cream had yet to melt and tasted it. Tension he hadn't realised he'd been holding disappeared. It tasted like vanilla ice cream, yes, and good vanilla ice cream at that—but beyond that, it tasted of all the times he'd shared dessert with a lover, every hot summer day spent holding hands with somebody he'd loved, every stroll in the park talking about everything and nothing. He closed his eyes and let the flavour wash over him. When he opened them, he found himself sitting opposite Dream at a terraced café, no longer holding ice cream. Instead, his hand rested on the table.
And Dream's hand rested on his.
Dream himself remained as impassive as ever. "I find that the weather is fair when I visit you," he mused, lashes beating in slow motion. They were a butterfly's wings, snowflakes falling, a rainbow materialising through scattered droplets of water.
True romantic that he was, Hob couldn't shake the jolt of joy in his stomach when Dream continued to allow their skin to touch. He wondered how long it'd been since any mortal had been allowed to touch his (his? since when had Dream ever been his?) Dream Lord. "It's been good to see you more frequently, too. And to finally know your name, after all this time."
"I have come to realise that you deserve a great many things you may never receive," Dream said, "and I feel it is my responsibility to give you whichever of those are in my power." He fell silent for a moment before moving his hand to entwine his fingers with Hob's. Another small smile graced his lips.
"Is this one of them?" Hob asked, swallowing.
"Yes and no. You have been an invaluable companion for many years, despite my distance and reluctance to admit it. In this sense, I am merely returning the favour." Dream tilted his head, much as he had as a cat, an unfamiliar sparkle in his eyes. "While I have never paid particular attention to your dreams, I have always been aware of them."
"Oh," said Hob, the statement sinking in, "oh." His face flushed and, if this were a conversation with anyone else, he would've pulled his hand away to cover his face. Dream's touch simply felt too rare to forego, too precious to lose. "I'm, um. I don't— don't know what to say. Please forgive me for seeing you in that light?" In his defence, Hob hadn't known who or what Dream even was for the first six hundred years, had no idea that his Stranger would be privy to those fantasies.
Dream—laughed. He actually laughed, the bastard. His laugh was, at most, a dry chuckle, but it was worlds more expressive than Hob ever expected to hear from him. "Hob Gadling," he said, half-smiling, eyes full of care and mirth and secrets and stars, "I am the King of Dreams. Were I displeased, or uncomfortable, with your fantasies of me, they would be well within my ability to stop."
"You don't mind dreams where I—?" Shag you silly, Hob finished in his thoughts, far too embarrassed to speak those words out loud.
"You were right, one hundred and thirty-three years ago. I was lonely, and I was too proud to admit it—which, I have come to realise, is exactly why I was so lonely. Only recently have I become aware of my own such... personal flaws."
"So you'd forgive my being so forward as to..." There was no longer a table between them, only a step that Hob closed with relish. They were so close their chests nearly touched, a breath—though, Hob noticed, Dream didn't breathe—between them. He remained hesitant as he put a hand to Dream's waist. With a smooth, too-fluid motion, Dream did the rest and gardens bloomed glorious behind Hob's eyes.
#Dreamling Week 2023#Dreamling Week#dreamling#fanfiction#this one goes out to the sadman server \m/_#sandman#what makes you so special?#fic@wyn
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"wake up, sir dainsleif ... you need to eat something."
a gentle hand brushes blonde locks off the bough keeper's forehead. kaeya hovers at his side, the look on his face one of tender concern. though he himself is still feeling shaky, it seems dainsleif suffered the worst of ... whatever that dreadful thing was; kaeya can only recall bits and pieces of what had transpired, but he's not forgotten the excruciating pain. he lets his eyes flicker shut, summoning his cryo to his hand and pressing a chilly palm to dainsleif's forehead, hoping to ease any ache there. it makes his own head throb nauseatingly, but for the man who's done so much for him ... kaeya has to try.
"i made radish veggie soup. it's good for healing." kaeya's smile is watery, but bless him, he's doing his best. "how ... how are you feeling ? any better ... ?"
Somewhat Prompted Ask - [ DAINSLEIF ] ;; @aalberich .
Coming to feels like a sharp BREATH of air after being submerged in a body of water, and the initial panic, like a stark chill against his skin, makes it nigh IMPOSSIBLE to piece all that had transpired into a coherent thought. What PORTAL had he emerged from ? Where was he, where was KAEYA ? What had happened, and why, more importantly, was he not still ON THE MOVE ?
" Nngh--- " Yet, his attempt to rise to SEEK these answers is thwarted, post haste, by an almost searing pain that has him lowering right back down to the bed 'neath his backside, with a sharp HISS that nearly takes the form of a rare expletive. Not the battlefield, then, but he was not one to seek refuge at an inn, no matter the perpetual EXHAUSTION that made weary his centuries old, beaten body. " My . . . m-my liege . . . ? " It's the gentle touch, and the familiarity behind that voice, that leads him to believe it is, indeed, the rightful heir who stands at his side . . . which, logical thinking henceforth would imply he is back within the walls of Kaeya's home. " You're . . . alive . . . " Unlikely, through the rasp of his voice, that Kaeya is made aware just how much of a RELIEF this offers his guardian, who could only think to begin gauging Kaeya's state of well-being despite the poor condition of his own body.
" I feel . . . I feel fine. You . . . should not worry for me. It is . . . not your place. " Rather, as his vision somewhat begins to somewhat clear, he can tell that whatever had happened had not only impacted him, but his prince, too.
That, in and of itself, was unforgivable. How many times was he going to fail his beloved superior ?
" You appear less than ideal, my prince. Please . . . rest. I need but a moment to . . . t-to gather myself in proper form, and then I shall make use of myself. " It stood without need to verbalize it that his appetite surely was not in the most generous of states, but Kaeya's efforts could not simply go unrecognized. " Fix yourself a bowl first, and I shall join you. "
Anything, to take the focus off of himself, even if the incessant POUNDING at his ailing head made the appeal of a likely OVERDUE grave sound beautiful, right now . . .
#aalberich#[ kaeya: dain bby are you okay? :( let me help you.#dain: reverse uno my prince. >:I ARE YOU OKAY? ]#muse ;; DAINSLEIF ( ANSWERED ASK )#;kaeyatag
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Sunflower Fields (aren't) Forever
Written for Femslash February 2024
Day 4. Field
Title: Sunflower Fields (aren’t) Forever
Ship: not applicable | Asana/Romin/Tiger
Word Count: 1,632
Universe: Sevens - Canon Compliant
Rating: T
Tags: Established Relationship, Polyamory, Bittersweet, Happy Ending
Things had been going well for RoaRomin.
So well in fact, they now had huge expectations on their shoulders for the next album. It had to go double- no, triple platinum. It had to outdo and outpace the last one as it had done fine. It was totally par the course and whilst stability was good, growth was even better and so.
The responsibility of course fell on the band to find new inspiration, new gimmicks, and new songs.
It was completely and totally stressing Romin out.
Her bandmates all had their own ideas of what they wanted. Heavy rock and roll. Light hearted pop bops and jams. A high-concept album. A patchwork of singles. It was tearing them apart whenever they got into the recording studio trying to do something. Anything! Rehearse, practice, brainstorm! Anything, pretty, please.
Romin was suffocating over the creative differences they were feeling like razor blades. The city was smoggy and stifling. Romin felt like she had a headache whenever she thought about leaving her and Roa’s apartment and she felt like she had stomach problems whenever he was hanging out around it too.
“So yeah, that’s the short of it.” Romin said as she finished up venting to her girlfriend.
They were sympathetic over the phone. Asana was fourteen in a high-powered corporate job thanks to being an heiress and whilst Tiger didn’t have a career yet, she still held herself to tall and nigh impossible standards. So they listened over the phone with Romin ranting about her troubles in the world of music.
“You need a break.” Tiger said.
“Mmhm.” Asana agreed.
“I don’t really have the time to lollygag though…” Romin said.
“I’m not suggesting we whisk you away to Europe on my family credit card or anything-” Asana said.
“I was.” Tiger said. “Italy is lovely and mild this time of year.”
“Let’s just do something small.” Asana said. “Get you out of Goha City, not into Naples.”
Romin laughed, “I dunno…”
“Well, what about,” Tiger hummed, “what about our secret hideout? Mine and Asana’s.”
“Our what…?” Romin echoed confused.
She straightened how she was lying all higgelty-piggelty on her bed. She blinked and changed how she was holding her phone. She very much did not have a secret hideout. The closest thing she had would be like… Yuga’s lab.
“Oh, um, not our.” Asana embarrassedly clarified. “Mine and Tiger’s secret base.”
“From our youth.” Tiger said.
“You’ll love it.” Asana said, getting excited. Her voice was almost squealing as she got giddy. “It’s not too far from where Tiger and I live, oh, we haven’t been there in years. It’ll be fun to visit it again.”
“Yeah, it does sound fun.” Tiger agreed. “What do you think, Romin?”
“Uh. sure?” Romin replied.
She recoiled as Asana and Tiger began to get a bit pitchy in their excitement. Though it was mainly Asana, Tiger was just egging her on and through the ear-piercing squeals turned staticky through her phone, Romin gathered what she needed from the conversation.
It was decided. They would go visit Asana and Tiger’s secret base as soon as possible: tomorrow afternoon. They would bring instruments and a picnic and make a whole date out of it. Their excitement was contagious, completely blinding Romin to the nostalgia that she didn’t have for this place.
Romin rarely felt left out and this was not going to be one of those times where she was, either. Asana and Tiger were determined to include her. They never wanted her to feel like a third wheel on their relationship. Their meeting with her had brought out the best in them and felt like a natural evolution but there was still a steep difference between childhood friends who had known each other forever versus the newcomer who knew them for a comparatively shorter amount of time.
The next day, on the way, Romin must have heard every story, every memory that Asana and Tiger had regarding their secret base. Their secret base sounded like a beautiful and halcyon place. Romin could imagine it vividly thanks to Asana and Tiger’s description of it.
A meadow in the forest, soft and pastel grass underfoot and endless blue skies overhead. Then the masterpiece of nature in the middle: the sunflower patch with flowers which were taller than tall which knitted together to form the clubhouse and tousled in the wind.
Oh, it sounded like a breath of fresh air.
Completely and utterly different to how cooped up she felt in the city.
Romin’s head was migraine free and although her stomach stirred, it was butterflies and not nausea. She was all smiles as she joined her girlfriends on foot for the surprisingly large distance from Asana’s mansion to their secret base.
Kids really did have limitless energy, didn’t they? Both Asana and Tiger could swear - they swore - the distance was much, much shorter than how it actually panned out.
Because all three of them were exhausted once they had made the trek through the woods. They arrived all hot and sweaty since it was the middle of summer. Worse still, when they arrived, they almost missed it because the field of sunflowers was not like Asana and Tiger remembered.
Nor what Romin was promised.
She had built up this scene in her imagination, of the idyllic field and pastures. Of sitting in the shade of the sunflowers and enjoying the company of Asana and Tiger as they ate endlessly and soaked up the atmosphere, making music and sharing jokes.
That was not the reality that Romin found herself in as she stood on the outer ring of what had once been the sunflower patch that Asana and Tiger had made their secret base. She set down the picnic basket and held onto the strap her guitar case was in. She had that feeling in the bottom of her stomach again. Similar to how being around Roa whose ideas were in the complete opposite direction of her own opposed against Ushiro and Getta’s, too, but different.
She glanced at Asana and Tiger. She didn’t even pretend to smile or be understanding. Their secret base now only existed in their memories. Memories she could be talked at length about but would just be stories, not her own experiences.
“I swear these things used to be taller…” Asana said.
She tried to perk up one of the wilted sunflowers. Had summer claimed them or had time? She couldn’t tell as another flopped down, withered and brown, after she tried to prop it up.
“There’s no use getting depressed over something like this.” Tiger decided, ever level-headed to a fault. Her bluntness made Asana sigh.
They all stood, with the sun overhead. Its rays beat down over them and Romin sighed, too. She flopped down and beckoned to Tiger, she nodded and unfurled the picnic blanket that she had been carrying along.
“You’re right, Tiger, no use getting depressed over this.” Romin said.
Though, Asana and Tiger’s excitement had been contagious, they were all here now. Romin was being shown more of the secret world of Asana and Tiger’s relationship, taking her rightful place within it as the third member of their trio - no longer a duo or a two-person couple. She swung her guitar around and set it in her lap.
Asana smiled, bittersweet, glad that Romin and Tiger could make the most of a disappointing situation. She sat down with them and shared iced tea amongst them. They were all so thirsty thanks to their hike and suddenly, things started to look up again.
“What matters most to me,” Romin said as she fiddled with her guitar, “is having a good time with you both. We can’t be stuck in the… past.” Her voice trailed off and she lifted up her head. Her eyes went wide.
“Something the matter?” Asana asked and Tiger stared quizzically, too.
“Stuck in the past… We can’t be stuck in the past!” Romin repeated, albeit just as cryptic as before. “That’s why we can’t write an album, I get it now! All of RoaRomin are stuck in the past but we need something new. Something from the future!”
Asana and Tiger’s expressions split into a smile. They loved Romin’s passion, how her face lit up as she had her epiphany. It seemed the trip out here wasn’t a bust after all.
Romin’s fingers began to speed along the neck of her guitar, she could feel the burgeoning rhythm of a new song in the skin of her fingertips. They blistered as she threw herself into the hype, chasing the idea but despite her quickness, the song turned out rather melodic.
Romin glanced at Tiger, “Try playing your flute.” she said.
“With pleasure.” Tiger replied.
Asana politely applauded them both as she was sampled to something which began to slow down. It turned sweet and melancholic. It was completely unlike any RoaRomin song that Romin had ever produced but they could all feel the throb of something special in their chests.
Roa clawed for their past success, wanting to replicate it over and over again. Getta worshipped the King who had died over a century ago. Ushiro was all about the grungy low tech of the retro. Even Romin had found herself pulled all the way back into the past, unable to muster something new until… now.
And it was all thanks to Asana, Tiger, and their sunflower field. It mightn’t have turned out like they had hoped but they couldn’t disagree with the results. Romin would just have to have her fingers crossed that everyone else would like the resulting song as much as they did.
#femslashfeb#femslashfeb2024#femslash#femslash february#femslash february 2024#yugioh sevens#sevens#yugioh#asana x romin x tiger#romin x asana x tiger#tiger x asana x romin#writing tag#sunflower fields (aren't) forever
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“In the orator”
This is holy! To thine utterance
delighted with sleep,
protect me. Had still, do fear the
impossible, only
more than not too base? The admired;
a little where his
head was the shells an odd story,
women are ambitious
natural hue of her sweet Stella
hath, with shapes committed
in my heart, and then ’twas fit that
without cards?, Expectant
of the secretly have ye left
behind none but your wish
be to clear his brazen tower,
long evening, lustful as
they obey the bright in Truth’s own
rest impede the flower,
say what ails the present my concern
about thy rim, skull-
things about thy rim, skull-things might
come and hold awe-stricken
breath—one gentle cheated, resolved
to speak he tries. But on
thy deep kindness, or softling—this
thine other shallow hole.
And are not so! And should remembers
after succession
blest, i’d feast: so subtly
is torn by the river
side bound forth the evening of
freemasons; and yet here dies
another, go to thee my
memory, or thou dost stay’d
still wanted original, so
precious earth we are; let
woe gripe on my back on 100K a
week and plaints, to the glen
at winter and looked at who will
teach thou be his parents’
joy. Got by stealing from his
immortality, small
distinguish’d the feathered feet were not
been told, but then t would
ever pen so sad a line! In
the orator. All. And
wandred I wene about at his
Feet, she can’t fall of miserye.
Which grows passionate light. And
I love with her sweet friend
of love, the lives. And up in sheaves
borne on the break of other
sense, will drop their presence. ’Are
but a kind of cold it
falls to ring; till she who contented
to compasse many
fears annulling fear I find in
each flowers, and curtsying
off, as curtsies come, comforter!
To think of tea, which would
now befal loves Triumphs, ’ which would
deny him sound like an
institution bed, to clarify
the purpose got he
reckless of a lost love, or servile
clown, who wants been said;
oh Thou, Carian no word return’d.
I showers were barren
soule to the shepeheards swayne, come
sliding with his bow is
but this captive good advice. Over
blowing, and learn how
existence comes from small, jewel-print
of faith, too creep into
love, good name. The slavish hat from
his gracious, harebrained, then
safely tread in the littering
round and tide. Dusk for our
own the past redresse mought so, nigh,
but by no means a few.
#poetry#automatically generated text#Patrick Mooney#Markov chains#Markov chain length: 7#192 texts#ballad
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lithe body rests against oh so solid one. she's nervous, but also not. "t-this is my first time... please be gentle." tentatively she traces muscles and scars, peppering kisses over the ones that seemed to be oldest. "sorry if that's a turn-off, but I want to do my best... s-so please teach me."
she feels like a ragdoll in his arms. not that she was, but with how little she could do as he bounced her on his lap, mizuki stuck to mewling and gasping out his name whenever possible. he was large and it certain stung at first, but after awhile she grew used to the sensation. her whole body felt hot and between her legs even hotter. as if there was an inferno raging, but really it was just pleasure coursing through her each time she found herself fully seated on his groin. "olu..." she takes the chance to wrap her tiny limbs around his broad shoulders, clinging to him as she felt something rising inside her. it felt so amazing. better than she ever imagined it could feel.
"hold me tighter. it f-feels too good... I'm scared o-of what's about to h-happen."
Oluwayemisi woke with a groan, muffled in his pillow, but the sensation of an orgasm wasn't to be mistaken as he shuddered from his tail bone to the bottom of his skull. The sensation of her in his arms, petit and fragile but willing, so-so willing to let him have her first time and guide her through a pleasure she's never had. Yeah - it was nigh impossible for him to ignore that during the waking hours. Shuddering with the aftermath of soaking his boxers and PJ slacks, he rose his head to grunt and glance towards the clock noting the 3am red lines… Not bad considering, but still, the stickiness of his own seed was bothersome. Thus, it was time to get up…
Running fingers through his mane and tugging the locks from his vision to tie back with a simple band over his crown, he moved to lift himself from mattress and stare at the mess? None? Nice. Still, it smelt like his seed so it needed a wash too. The problems of being a fertile male and a territorial monster in a place shared with others with sensitive noses. He dismissed the bed for now though, instead moving to remove his clothing and toss into the washing machine with several others garments in need of a clean. Letting it rumble away as he moved to his bathroom and scrubbed himself down. Even thinking back to how her mouth parts with her pleas, and his hand was once more back on his erection formed healthily…
The shower spray did little to quell the heat in his groin but it was good enough for his body to shiver in bliss as his palm fisted him just right. Over and over, with the image of her vaginal lips devouring his shaft like it was made for him size. The breasts, just right for a handful and perky nipples - the column of her throat that his fangs wished to devour in his mark… Shit, when was the last time he's dreamt of a perfect woman like this? His lashes fluttered as yet another orgasm ripped through him - huffing into the spray as his fingers rubbed every thick rope from his slit and droplets that followed… He didn't shy away from cleaning himself proper, even though he was sensitive but to freshen up was needed after that.
Towel drying his skin, having not washed his hair due to just how long it'll take to dry it through - he instead got himself dressed and began on dismembering his bedding to replace with fresh sheets and let those air out on the line in the yard when he stepped out in the crisp early morning. Inhaling the fresh dawn and stretching his arms above head as he felt loose and well oiled, he decided he needed to run and get this energy out of him for the day. He couldn't go to work with a triggered erection every time he thought of the woman in his dream. Though at least his head was in a space where he felt like he could pursue someone new again…
Though it might just be a phase of horniness due to the lack of action he's had since getting himself a place near Loni's.
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APOSTLES' SIGNS AND WONDERS -- KJV (King James Version) Bible Verse List
KJV Bible verse list compiled by #BillKochman for #BillsBibleBasics. Topic: "Apostles' Signs and Wonders". Visit https://www.billkochman.com/VerseLists/ to see all my lists.
"And as ye go, preach, saying, The kingdom of heaven is at hand. Heal the sick, cleanse the lepers, raise the dead, cast out devils: freely ye have received, freely give."
Matthew 10:7-8, KJV
"Then he called his twelve disciples together, and gave them power and authority over all devils, and to cure diseases. And he sent them to preach the kingdom of God, and to heal the sick."
Luke 9:1-2, KJV
"And into whatsoever city ye enter, and they receive you, eat such things as are set before you: And heal the sick that are therein, and say unto them, The kingdom of God is come nigh unto you . . . Behold, I give unto you power to tread on serpents and scorpions, and over all the power of the enemy: and nothing shall by any means hurt you. Notwithstanding in this rejoice not, that the spirits are subject unto you; but rather rejoice, because your names are written in heaven."
Luke 10:8-9, 19-20, KJV
"Verily, verily, I say unto you, He that believeth on me, the works that I do shall he do also; and greater works than these shall he do; because I go unto my Father. And whatsoever ye shall ask in my name, that will I do, that the Father may be glorified in the Son. If ye shall ask any thing in my name, I will do it."
John 14:12-14, KJV
"And these signs shall follow them that believe; In my name shall they cast out devils; they shall speak with new tongues; They shall take up serpents; and if they drink any deadly thing, it shall not hurt them; they shall lay hands on the sick, and they shall recover."
Mark 16:17-18, KJV
"Now Peter and John went up together into the temple at the hour of prayer, being the ninth hour. And a certain man lame from his mother’s womb was carried, whom they laid daily at the gate of the temple which is called Beautiful, to ask alms of them that entered into the temple; Who seeing Peter and John about to go into the temple asked an alms. And Peter, fastening his eyes upon him with John, said, Look on us. And he gave heed unto them, expecting to receive something of them. Then Peter said, Silver and gold have I none; but such as I have give I thee: In the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth rise up and walk. And he took him by the right hand, and lifted him up: and immediately his feet and ankle bones received strength. And he leaping up stood, and walked, and entered with them into the temple, walking, and leaping, and praising God. And all the people saw him walking and praising God . . . Then Peter, filled with the Holy Ghost, said unto them, Ye rulers of the people, and elders of Israel, If we this day be examined of the good deed done to the impotent man, by what means he is made whole; Be it known unto you all, and to all the people of Israel, that by the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth, whom ye crucified, whom God raised from the dead, even by him doth this man stand here before you whole."
Acts 3:1-9, 4:8-10, KJV
"And believers were the more added to the Lord, multitudes both of men and women.) Insomuch that they brought forth the sick into the streets, and laid them on beds and couches, that at the least the shadow of Peter passing by might overshadow some of them. There came also a multitude out of the cities round about unto Jerusalem, bringing sick folks, and them which were vexed with unclean spirits: and they were healed every one."
Acts 5:14-16, KJV
"And God wrought special miracles by the hands of Paul: So that from his body were brought unto the sick handkerchiefs or aprons, and the diseases departed from them, and the evil spirits went out of them."
Acts 19:11-12, KJV
"And there sat in a window a certain young man named Eutychus, being fallen into a deep sleep: and as Paul was long preaching, he sunk down with sleep, and fell down from the third loft, and was taken up dead.
And Paul went down, and fell on him, and embracing him said, Trouble not yourselves; for his life is in him. When he therefore was come up again, and had broken bread, and eaten, and talked a long while, even till break of day, so he departed. And they brought the young man alive, and were not a little comforted."
Acts 20:9-12, KJV
"And when Paul had gathered a bundle of sticks, and laid them on the fire, there came a viper out of the heat, and fastened on his hand. And when the barbarians saw the venomous beast hang on his hand, they said among themselves, No doubt this man is a murderer, whom, though he hath escaped the sea, yet vengeance suffereth not to live. And he shook off the beast into the fire, and felt no harm. Howbeit they looked when he should have swollen, or fallen down dead suddenly: but after they had looked a great while, and saw no harm come to him, they changed their minds, and said that he was a god."
Acts 28:3-6, KJV
"And fear came upon every soul: and many wonders and signs were done by the apostles."
Acts 2:43, KJV
"And by the hands of the apostles were many signs and wonders wrought among the people; (and they were all with one accord in Solomon's porch."
Acts 5:12, KJV
"And Stephen, full of faith and power, did great wonders and miracles among the people."
Acts 6:8, KJV
"Long time therefore abode they speaking boldly in the Lord, which gave testimony unto the word of his grace, and granted signs and wonders to be done by their hands."
Acts 14:3, KJV
"Then all the multitude kept silence, and gave audience to Barnabas and Paul, declaring what miracles and wonders God had wrought among the Gentiles by them."
Acts 15:12, KJV
If you would like more info regarding the origin of these KJV Bible verse lists, go to https://www.billkochman.com/VerseLists/. Thank-you!
https://www.billkochman.com/Blog/index.php/apostles-signs-and-wonders-kjv-king-james-version-bible-verse-list/?feed_id=59504&_unique_id=64527cc25c3d9&APOSTLES%27%20SIGNS%20AND%20WONDERS%20--%20KJV%20%28King%20James%20Version%29%20Bible%20Verse%20List
#KJV_Bible_Verse_Lists#apostles#bible#bible_study#bill_kochman#bills_bible_basics#king_james_version#kjv#list#scripture#scriptures#signs#topical#verse#verses#wonders
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@rothalion asked: Although Rothalion had grown quiet and far more reserved since his return, it did not mean he had forgotten any important event in their lives. Far before the very end of his adventure he had acquired something particularly special, something not to be found anywhere else.
He had taken great care to keep such a gift hidden for moons in an indescript box and, as Starlight drew closer, took advantage of Cyvel's busier moments to sit down and wrap the gift. He was no expert, the folds of the paper not quite crisp and most certainly crinkled, taped down in odd ways in an attempt to hide the colour of the box itself. A bow would be placed atop the box, a tag placed atop with very careful writing reading "To Cyvel, the love of my life"
The day came, and as uncharacteristic as it had been lately Rothalion slid out of bed early; the sun had not even thought to rise just yet. Ro tiptoed to the closet, careful to open the door silently to retrieve the present and quickly tip toeing back to slid under the warmth of the covers. He shimmied over and rolled onto his side, free hand reaching out to gently brush locks of white and grey from Cyvel's face err he leaned to press a kiss to his forehead, his nose and then to his lips.
"Happy Starlight, my love," he whispered gently, resting the box between them. He smiled. "I have been ever eager to give you this gift, 'twas a miracle I was able to wait."
Within were packets of seeds labelled with names unheard of, and atop rested a single preserved flower with petals like crystal that glowed a gentle pink in that moment. An Elpis flower.
"I was able to bring seeds back with me. I asked one of the ancients to preserve the flower as well; 'tis a mystery just what will grow from the seeds, but 'tis most certainly something that has never been seen upon this Shard or any other," he explained.
'T was quite the wonderful way to be woken - the gentleness of touch and the love of kisses drawing the poet out of his somewhat restful slumber and into the present moment, the pale light of morning scarce beginning to shine through windows.
A hum, laden heavily with sleep, sounded first as his consciousness caught up with waking, eyes blinking open slowly to the beauteous sight of his love looking - - happier, for the moment, at least, and that alone was enough to bring a smile of his own unto his features.
"Good morning, sweetpea-" Cyvel finally utters, a long exhale from his nose aiding in rousing himself further ere noting the giftbox resting between them - truly surprised.
Despite being riddled with aches, the poet sat himself up slowly and leaned back against pillows, the length of fingers reaching for the offered gift with joy nigh radiating from the pale of his eyes.
Deftly, he opened the wrapping and the box within, falling silent as his love explained just how special the gifts were in which he was now looking at with immense adoration and love.
"Oh, Ro---" Cyvel scarce knew what to say, his fingers ever so gentle as they reached forth for the preserved flower to hold it as delicately as he was able to- knowing already that he would need to have a glass display case made for its beauty to rest within.
As for the seeds-
"...And here I was trying to convince myself not to have the greenhouse expanded-" The smile upon his face doesn't waver; "But mayhap a new section for ancient plants wouldn't go amiss, wouldn't you say so-?"
Quietly, he leaned closer to his love to press kisses unto his face; "You'll help me grow them, won't you-?"
#Ask#Letters from the Aether || Asks ||#Poetry is the Spontaneous Overflow of Powerful Feelings. It Takes Origin From Emotion Recollected in Tranquillity || Replies ||
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#SPOILERS#LUCA FANDOM HOW WE FEELING!!!!! 😭😭🥰💕😭😭🥺🥺🥰🥰😭😭😭😭😭#HE CALLED HIM DAD IM SOBBI G N#ciao alberto#ciao alberto spoilers#pixar luca#alberto scorfano#massimo marcovaldo#machiavelli#and with this i go to bed good niGH T
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Always Hungry for You
Post Episode 12. Canon compliant.
It was one of those rare mornings where Pran actually slept in. He had to work late into the night, finishing up on his final revisions to a building plan, so he allowed himself to sleep in for once, groaning when Pat pressed messy kisses to his hair before getting out of bed.
He roused hours later to the smell of frying bacon and crossed his fingers that their apartment wasn’t about to be burned down. He laid there, half-asleep until Pat greeted him with a tray full of food.
“Good morning,” Pat trilled. Pran gave him his best grumpy look. “Aw, baby, c’mon wake up. It’s almost eleven.”
“Eleven?” Pran grumbled, shifting and accepting the tray of food. “Hmm you didn’t burn it this time.”
“I have the best teacher,” Pat said, grabbing Pran’s fork and cutting him a bit of pancake, holding it out to him. Pran let out a laugh, leaning forward to take a bite, before Pat pulled it away last second, taking the pancake for himself. As Pat chewed, Pran whined and tried to grab the fork out of Pat’s hand.
“Ai'Pat, that's mine,” Pran complained.
“Hey, I didn’t eat because I wanted to wait for you,” Pat pouted, holding the fork just out of reach. “And I made the food, I deserve a bite. It’s the boyfriend tax.”
“Fiancé tax,” Pran corrected automatically.
It was still new, the ring still felt like a strange but welcome weight on his finger. It’d been only five days ago. And what a five days it’d been. They’d been celebrating their fresh engagement by christening the apartment for a second time over a series of days – hence why Pran was almost late on his deadline last night.
“Ah yes,” Pat’s eyes brightened. “So sorry, my fiancé.” Pat leaned forward, pressing a sticky syrup kiss to Pran’s lips. Pran pulled back, licking at his lips thoughtfully.
“Not bad,” Pran set the tray to the side. “But I’d like another taste.”
Pran leaned forward, grabbing onto Pat’s head and kissed him thoroughly, tasting the sweet syrup on Pat’s tongue. And… something smoky. Bacon? And something bitter. A hint of coffee.
“Liar, you already ate without me,” Pran mumbled.
“Hm, well I feel quite starved right now,” Pat whispered, crawling on top of Pran, between his spread legs.
“Well I’m famished,” Pran’s eyes shined and Pat snapped, whipping his t-shirt over his head before Pran tackled him, knocking them off the bed and onto the floor.
Somewhere in the next half hour the breakfast tray had somehow fallen to the ground, leaving a huge mess, and Pran and Pat ended up back in bed, naked, chests heaving, lips swollen and necks blossoming an array of love bites.
“You happy with your breakfast?” Pat asked, and Pran smirked.
“Happy it lasted more than five minutes–”
Pat swatted at his chest.
“Hey!”
“Fine, yes,” Pran sighed, before stretching out his arms over his head. “But I really need to have something else in my stomach other than your–” Pran glanced down at Pat’s lower half, stopping himself short.
“Guess it’s not the most nutritious breakfast,” Pat admitted with a smug look. “Well I guess I can just heat up leftovers for us.”
“You do that,” Pran sighed, as Pat leaned over to press a warm kiss to his temple. “I guess I’ll clean up our actual breakfast.”
“Mm, no, you just sit and relax. I will take care of you today,” Pat said.
“Haven’t you already?” Pran smirked.
“I already did. Twice.”
“Pat–”
“Wanna go for three times?”
“Pat I am actually starving, and will eat Nong Nao if you don’t–”
“You would never–”
Pran grabbed Nong Nao from the bedside table and pretended to bite on the doll’s little arm. Pat wailed and tugged the doll from Pran's grasp.
“Don’t eat our child, Pran!”
“Then make me something to eat or I won’t be taking care of that again–” Pran made a point to gesture to Pat’s lower half – “for a week.”
Pat looked aghast. “You would never.”
“I waited a year before, Pat. I can wait a week.”
“Back then we had phone sex three times a week–”
“Pat–”
“Okay, okay! I’m going!” Pat groaned, getting up, and leaving Nong Nao back on the nightstand. “Behave yourself.”
“That’s my line,” Pran huffed as he got up, rummaging around for a pair of boxers. The first one he found was a pair of Pat’s but he put them on anyway.
He was only halfway through deciding on what shirt to wear when he heard a knock resound from their front door.
“Pat? Pran?”
Pran saw Pat freeze.
Four voices echoed from outside that door.
Their parents.
It had taken until fairly recently for their parents to start openly accepting their relationship. They had even seemed pleased by the news of their recent engagement. But why were they here? Now?
“Get dressed,” Pran hissed, as he threw on whatever was closest to him. One of Pat’s shirts, a pair of his own shorts. He kicked the breakfast tray and the scattered pieces of bacon and eggs to the side and bolted to the mirror to check his hair.
He looked well and truly fucked. Literally.
“Shia Pat! I told you not to leave hickeys on my neck anymore!”
Pat stumbled around, grabbing items out of the dirty clothes hamper and shoving them on.
“Sorry! I wasn’t thinking straight–”
“Clearly,” Pran groaned, running his hands through his hair. He snapped off his shirt and shrugged on a new shirt with the highest possible collar he could find.
“Pat! Pran! You in?” Pran’s dad called. "I see Pat's car parked out front!"
“Just a minute!” Pran shouted back, rearranging his hair into place before he went over to Pat, smoothing out the lines in his t-shirt, and righting his hair into place.
“I mean worst comes to worst, our parents know we have a healthy sex life,” Pat said in an attempt to soothe Pran.
“I don’t want our parents to think about us having sex at all.”
“We’re getting married of course they know we have sex–”
“But they don’t need the evidence of it in front of them!”
“Guys?” Pat’s mom this time.
“Coming!” Pat shouted.
“You won’t be coming for a long time after what you did to my neck,” Pran grumbled while Pat jutted out his lower lip.
Finally looking respectable enough, Pran went forward to greet their parents at the door.
But when they entered, Pran’s sex brain couldn’t shut itself off. Because now his parents were sitting on the couch that he had rode Pat on just three days ago, and Pat’s parents were by the kitchen counter, where Pran had bent Pat over on two days ago, and then Pran’s mom was admiring and running her finger across the coffee table that Pat had laid on when Pran sucked him off just yesterday and Pran really couldn’t take it anymore.
Pat’s father moved to lean against the glass door that led to their balcony and Pran’s mind was filled with the memory of their engagement night. Of Pat lifting him against the door, rutting against him, first Pat’s fingers inside him and then his—
“Pran, honey, you look a little pale. Are you okay?” Pat’s mom. Pran forced a smile.
“Yeah, it’s just that we weren’t expecting you guys. Would you like anything to drink. Tea? Water?” Pran managed to put on a neutral expression and Pat stood at his side, gripping his hand tight. They both weren’t used to showing affection in front of their parents, but Pran appreciated the comfort of Pat’s touch right now more than anything.
“No, it's fine. I'm sure you're both wondering why we dropped by. And it's just... We just… we started talking,” Dissaya started, looking back at Ming, he was hanging out in the kitchen, head kept low. “And we decided we want to offer to fully pay for your wedding.”
Pat looked at Pran, eyes wide in shock.
“And your honeymoon too–” Pran’s father continued. “Wherever you want."
“I heard Australia is very nice for honeymoons–” Pat’s mom cut in. “Or maybe you want to go to Europe. The Greek Isles would be lovely after a summer wedding.”
“We’re having a spring wedding,” Pat told her, fingers still tight around Pran’s.
And Pran – shit he felt like crying. Because was this actually happening? Were his and Pat’s parents actually offering to pay for their wedding and honeymoon? Surely this wasn’t reality.
And it wasn’t just about the money. It was about the sentiment behind it all.
“And if you ever need a down payment on a house–” Ming cleared his throat. “Don’t hesitate to ask.”
Pran noticed Pat’s jaw clench out of the corner of his eye.
“We’re quite happy here,” Pran said. “But thank you. We will let you know in the future.”
“You’ll need a bigger place if you want to have kids,” Pat’s mom said. “I mean – only if that’s what you both want.”
“We do,” Pat said, his voice as tight as his grip on Pran’s fingers. “One day.”
“Well I'm glad to hear that,” Dissaya smiled, and Pran was feeling himself crumbling. "I can't wait to have grandchildren someday."
“Let the wedding happen first, Ma,” Pran laughed. “We want to wait until our thirties before having kids.”
“That’s what Ming and I said too,” Pat’s mom laughed. “But then oops– we had not one, but two.”
Pran had to bite his tongue to refrain from saying that with him and Pat there wouldn’t be any surprise pregnancies. But again, the last thing he wanted was for either of their parents to in any way think about them having sex.
Thankfully, their parents didn’t stay too much longer, though both Pat and Pran's mom’s left them with platters of food.
Pat and Pran happily slurped at their gifted noodles, relieved to not have been caught by their parents. And also still processing the news put before them.
Their parents accepted them now. Fully. Even if Dissaya and Ming were still awkward and stilted around each other. They were trying for them. And it really meant the world.
Somehow through it all they made it through. To this moment. From a childhood rivalry, to secret friends, to boyfriends, to lovers, to husbands-to-be.
Pat and Pran's rings shined in the sunlight that poured into their apartment.
“Do you remember our first time?”
Pran startled, not expecting that question. “What?”
“You don’t?” Pat whined.
Pran laughed, offended. “Of course, I do. How could I ever forget our beach honeymoon.”
They hadn’t gone all the way that time – that had been later, in Pran’s room a couple days after. They weren’t sure exactly what they preferred at the time. Pran had decided he wanted to see what it was like to have Pat inside him first.
It hadn’t exactly gone well.
Pat scrambled to get a condom on, hands so slippery with lube that it almost didn't go on, and he barely thrusted into Pran five times before he came inside him and Pran laughed into his pillow for the next hour as Pat pouted, saying it wasn’t fair because Pran was too hot for his own good.
Pat had challenged him that he couldn’t do better, and Pran took him up on that challenge, flipping their positions. Turns out Pran did have better stamina. Though admittedly he hadn’t lasted as long as he would’ve hoped. He immediately understood why Pat had come so quickly after he was inside Pat for the first time.
It was a lot, a lot.
“I knew there was no going back after our first time.”
Pran smiled. “So I’m that good in bed, huh?”
Their actual first time had been even more stumbling and fumbling around. They didn’t know what they were doing, both never having gone this far with anyone before. Pat got his head stuck in his shirt and Pran's boxers somehow kept getting tangled around his ankles as Pat tried to shove them off.
They had rutted against each other for what felt like hours, and after coming down from their first high, they went at it again. Hands on each other this time. And then again. Mouths on each other.
Pran made Pat come five times over the span of that night. Three times with his mouth alone. Pran’s jaw still ached from the memory. He had to ice his jaw the next day while fielding embarrassing questions from Uncle Tong and Yod.
“It wasn’t just about the sex,” Pat laughed. “I just never knew what it’d be like to feel so… so connected to someone like that before. And I knew I never wanted to experience something like that with anyone else.”
Pran’s eyes softened. “I’m glad you were my first.”
“I’m glad you were mine.”
“I’m glad you’re my only.”
“Me too.”
“Well, except for that one time with Wai–” Pran joked.
Pat scowled, sticking out his tongue, pinching at Pran’s thigh. “Don’t you dare even put that image in my mind.”
“Believe me, I don’t even want that image in mine,” Pran shuddered and Pat smiled then.
“You just like me when I get jealous.”
“I do not–” Pran scoffed.
“Yes, you do. You like when I’m possessive,” Pat leaned forward, finger skating over the love bite at the corner of Pran’s collar.
“Pat, I’m actually hungry right now,” Pran groaned, though he couldn’t stop the thrill it sent through him. Just Pat’s fingertips. That’s all it took.
“Then eat up, my dumpling,” Pat tutted, lifting a dumpling up to Pran’s mouth. “Because I have plans for you today.”
“Oh do you?” Pran raised an eyebrow. “So do I.”
Pat’s eyes flashed. “You go first.”
“Let's finish eating first,” Pran said, leaning forward and taking the dumpling from Pat, swallowing it hard. “Patience is a virtue.”
“But I’m not a pious man, Pran,” Pat whined.
“Lucky for you, neither am I,” Pran said, with a glint in his eye, before knocking the food to the side, grabbing Pat and pinning him against the kitchen counter, leaping up until Pat’s back was on the counter, and Pran’s legs were straddled around his waist.
“We’re not in a porno, Pran–” Pat said, but his lust-blown pupils betrayed his words. “Sex on the kitchen countertop? Again?”
“What can I say? You make me hungry.”
And Pran dived in for a taste.
#bad buddy#bad buddy fanfic#patpran#patpran fanfic#this was basically me wanting to show patpran being a vers couple and then this fic got a teeny bit emotional#but overall it's just these two being desperately hungry for each other#also I really like the idea of their first time not involving penetrative sex so that's why I wrote it that way#so basically this is my own version of canon and how I see it playing out#basically this is my pushing the patpran switch agenda which we already know is canon#but I just wanted to see it repped more!#let's see it in more fanfics please!#I can't carry the patpran switch agenda on my own#if you like pls like or comment or reblog please <3
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Pull Up J.WS (M)
-pairing: fwb! wooseok x female reader ex-boyfriend! changgu x female reader
-genre: angst and smut
-words: 4.8k
-A/n: this is my first work on this platform and i hope you enjoy this! (ps. I really wanted to add a pic of him from the visual motif but it didn’t paste right T^T)
>>Masterlist
~~~
It had been a rough week. A hella rough week. Although Wooseok shouldn’t have been complaining. He had known that he was bad when it came to flings. Especially when it comes to you. His old habits of fucking around were too damn hard to break. He knows the many times he had let you down these past years. The many times that he had put you aside for another person then went right back to you. The times you screamed and yelled at him, and the times that you just cried in his arms while he cradled you. Wooseok smiled bitterly while looking down at his glass. God had he messed up. God how it had hurt him when he went to call you only to find out that you had blocked him. He must have deserved it. And he did. And he regretted every decision right now, still knowing that it is way too late for that. He scoffed and gulped down the drink that was in his hand.
He grabbed his car keys on his kitchen counter. He was going to visit you tonight even if it was going to be the end of him. His breathing was heavy and he was a bit frustrated with himself. How could he be so stupid and continue to be? I mean come on why would you forgive him this time? What was a good reason? There wasn’t. The only reason there was was that now he had really notices how stupid he was and that he probably was in love with you. But were you in love with him. He huffed and ran his hands through his hair. He hadn’t even started the car? How could he. This was a bad fucking idea. He wanted to speed down and pull up to your house telling you he loved you but he had nothing. Should he bring flowers? Was there any flower shop open at this time? Would you even accept his flowers? Would you be happy and kiss him? Damn. How he missed your kisses in the morning after you woke up in his bed. The way you’d wake up and just be happy to be with him that you’d pepper kisses all over his face when he was supposedly sleeping. How he’d pretend to be asleep all that time just to receive them from you. His little secret.
Now Wooseok was smiling to himself. He came to one conclusion:
He needed to get flowers.You were stuck in your house crying. You swore to yourself that you hated him. Hated Wooseok. Why did he always have to be a jerk. Why did you love him so fucking much. You wanted nothing to do with him anymore. You couldn’t just let him play with your heart like that. You’re more than that.. You threw a pillow at the wall. Why were you even guessing yourself over again? All fucking week you’ve been hovering over that goddamn block button and the moment when you press it, you regret it. Your whole world comes down because now you’ve realized how deep you’ve dug this goddamn hole. You had stayed home on and off this week not wanting to run into Wooseok through friends or just on your route to work. That man had a way of coming up into your life. He just loved popping up whenever it felt convenient for him and you hated that. How could he be so goddamn self centered? You threw another pillow. Then shamefully walked to pick the two pillows up because you actually needed to reuse your amo.
Was it really that bed that just knew you went back on every intention to not see him to wanting to see him? You laughed at yourself and threw a pillow over yourself. You really were in this deep. You proceeded to scream into the pillow loud enough to not disturb the neighbors. When did this even start?Oh, right.You were at a Christmas party in college with all of your friends. You all were absolutely wasted and the music was blaring so loud that sometimes you could only hear the bass as the beat of your heart. It was an amazing nigh so far. You were usually quite a quiet person, but when it came to special occasions like this you were wild. You were dancing on top of a table to a random 2000s song. The whole playlist was composed of them-- ‘cause most of it was lit music. You were jumping and busing random moves with random people cheering you on. At this point you were lost in the moment. Too lost to not notice one turn and you would fall, and you made that turn with someone catching you. You fell into Wooseok's arms and heat immediately reached your face. Your gazes automatically locked. You hadn’t really noticed him before, like really noticed him. Wooseok was just a guy in the group you hung out with. He was very easy to get along with and you hadn’t scraped any deeper than the surface. He put you to the ground immediately and you yelled a ‘woo’ to bring the moment back up.You closed your eyes smiling and when you opened them you were met by Wooseok hovering over you and looking at you with awe. Either that or it was just the liquor in both of your systems. You smiled at him and grabbed his hand. You led him further into the crowd. It was definitely the alcohol that made you do this. That was your thing, not a logical reason at the time. It wasn’t because you were dying to see that gaze for the whole night. You danced with him for the rest of the night. He didn’t try to leave, nor did you. You had heard a few things about Wooseok in the past, how he was such a seducer. You hadn’t believed that till now as your hips swayed and he spinned you. He was really good at this. He was so damn tall too. You tugged on his shirt for him to reach down to you. You smiled at him and tried to make yourself taller to whisper into his ear. You whispered in his ear, “I want to kiss you.” He smirked. When you looked at him he fucking smirked. He bent down more and his hand grazed your face. He smiled before he kissed you. You kissed him back and could’ve sworn that no one's lips were ever that soft. You pulled back after a few seconds. He stared at you intensely and you wanted to hide. You hugged him and stuffed your face into his chest. You could feel his chest vibrate as he laughed. His hand went to your head and caressed it. You smiled while he began to sway you two. You smiled and laughed looking up at him. You smiled back and you reached back up to give him a kiss this time. This kiss was filled with more passion than the last. It was something so sweet. Definitely a drive for what you were about to do, or maybe it was the alcohol.
You tugged onto his shirt and he bent down to reach you. You whispered in his ear, “I want to go home, wanna join?”
Wooseok looked at you for a moment. He stared as if he was asking you if you were sure about this. Fuck that. You dragged him out of the part grabbing your and his jacket on the way out. You giggled once you were outside the building. You handed him his jacket and kissed him on the lips. You giggled as you pulled away and he laughed back.
“We can go in my car. I’m still a bit sober.” Wooseok said. You blinked your eyes. He started to walk to his car. You followed behind. Sober was he? But he does this usually right? He’s a flirt to those who talk of him. You felt a bit stupid. Once you got into the car his hand went straight to your thigh. A sly smirk formed on your lip and you had the urge to lean over and kiss him. You did so receiving a squeeze to your thigh and his hand slid further up. You bit your lip and looked over to him. He had a slight smirk on his face as he turned the corner. All you could think about was how large his hands were on your thighs and how much space they could possibly fill up inside of you. You sunk deeper into the chair, your body was relaxing more. Wooseok noticed the change in your posture and moved his hands further up, going beneath your skirt. He played with the fabric making your ability to breathe a bit harder. You bit your lip as he went under the fabric of your panties and played with your folds.A small guilt crept up that you weren’t doing much for him at all. You looked towards him again. “Wooseok?” He hummed back as a response. His attention was still focused on the road. He had squeezed your thigh while giving you a side glance, but you had stayed quiet.
“Is there something wrong?” Wooseok said with a little concern. You sucked in a breath. “Is there anything that I could do for you?” You watched Wooseok with anticipation as he cracked a smile. Alcohol often made you vulnerable and by the looks of it he noticed. Your lips slightly curved down. “Are you making fun of me..?”
Wooseok let out a little laugh, not really making matters any better. “No, I'm not a sweetheart. You just sounded so cute there.” He smiled and it was warm and happy. “Don’t worry about me either because tonight it’s about me treating you well. Don’t think I forgot about what Changgu did. You deserve to be loved and treated like a princess.” You blushed, he was actually quite a charmer. Although, the statement about Changgu had left a bittersweet taste in your mouth. That whole ordeal was another story for another time and you were still quite sour about it. Wooseok's hand rested on your thigh now. He slowly rubbed it, trying his best to make you feel better. Wooseok was now looking back at you frequently, having half of his attention on you.
The rest of the car ride was silent after that. Wooseok stopped making moves in order to not step over the bounds again, and you couldn't seem to find a good icebreaker. The alcohol slowly makes you a bit sleepy. You quickly shook it off and looked back at Wooseok. Part of you knew that if you fell asleep now you wouldn’t get laid and those hands. You hand found its place on top of his. You grabbed his hand and led it back to your inner thigh. Wooseok took a sigh. It wasn’t loud at all. If you hadn’t been so on edge due to your raging emotions you might have heard it. He usually wasn’t one to get too caught up in these type of things but suddenly when you had fallen in his arms tonight and him knowing why you had drank so much he couldn’t help but feel his heart soften. His fingers traced circles onto your skin. They slowly creeped up to your panties and rubbed on them.
“Take these off..” Wooseok demanded. His voice wasn’t harsh, but it was definitely an octave lower than what it usually was. You hummed in response, picking your body up to take them off. You let them fall to the floor as Wooseok parked the car. You looked at him with a confused look.
“Why would you ask me to take them off if we were already this close?” He turned to you and smirked.
“Maybe because I didn't want you to walk in my house with them?” He looked at you with a serious look before he dropped it then started laughing. You didn’t really get where the punchline was, but his laugh was just so inviting for you to join him.
He led you into the apartment complex to his own apartment. You followed closely behind him holding his hand. Once both of your feet were past the threshold he locked his lips onto yours and closed the door behind you. He hiked you onto the door, your legs wrapped around his waist like you had done this before with him. He held you in his arms and carried you to his room. Wooseok was much larger than you and made sure to be gentle with you. Compared to him you were so tiny and he didn’t want to hurt you. He really was serious about treating you tonight. His kisses went from your lips to your jaw to your neck. He slowly sucked on random places while his hands were working to get your dress off of you. You whined when he pulled away to remove the dress over your head. Once your dress was off he had stopped to stare like he was in a trance. Even though that moment felt like it could go on forever he snapped out of it now focusing on getting his own clothes off of himself. He was quick with it too. Wooseok didn’t dress up too much, his style was fashionable but simple. Once he had the last piece of clothing off he crawled towards you on the bed and kissed you again. Now he let his hands roam wherever they wanted– to your boobs, waist, thighs, and the place you needed it the most. He pressed a digit onto your hole before dragging it and pressing it onto your clit. Wooseok smirked when he heard another whine come to your lips. He pressed down one again and circled your clit while he made his mouth busy by kissing your tummy. You let out another whine when Wooseok stopped his movements. It wasn’t too long before he had inserted his finger into your hole. You let out a shaky moan as he added another lengthy finger. He pumped them slowly into you while making small scissor movements. Your eyes were closed, focused on the feeling of his fingers as his pace. You could feel your orgasm getting closer and your body squirmed with anticipation. You were so close then– Wooseok pulled his fingers away from you. Your eyes shot wide open and you glared at him. One of his eyebrows shot up in amusement. “I was debating on treating you tonight, but I honestly don’t have enough patience for that.” Wooseok moved from his position on the bed to move closer to you. He kissed you again. The kiss started off sweet and slow as maybe an apology, but he got impatient again and the kiss turned heated. He moved his body to hover above yours. He kissed your neck and lined himself to your entrance before entering you. You watched Wooseok as his eyebrows creased in the middle and his mouth hung open. It’s when he started to move that you got caught up in your own pleasure. You let your hands roam all over his body, first his arms then his shoulders then to his neck. Your arms wrapped themselves around his neck and pulled him closer towards you. Your lips enclosed into a fast sloppy kiss as Wooseok’s hips slammed into yours. You moaned loudly as he it your spot. Your head hit his pillow and you pushed your body into his. He took this as a chance to thrust harder into you as you heels him as close as you could, You kissed his neck sloppily to busy yourself. He whimpered every time you nipped at his neck. You marked him as he had probably marked you from before.You tapped Wooseok’s back as a signal that you were close. You picked up your leg as an attempt to help the orgasm as Wooseok quickened his pace a bit.“You can wait for me right sweetheart?” He looked down at you, and you nodded. Your grip on him grew tighter as he chased for his own orgasm. His thrusts got sloppier as you two got closer to your orgasms. Your thighs started shaking.
“I don’t think I can hold on any lo-” Wooseok thrusted one last time hitting your spot before he quickly pulled out and ejaculated on your stomach. He hovered over you looking down as he tried to catch his breath, and when he did, he leaned down and gave you a soft peck on your cheek.
“I'm going to get something to clean you up, okay?” Wooseok's voice was softer now. There was care laced into it and you couldn’t help but feel warm about it. He got off the bed and grabbed a pair of boxers to put on before he left your room. You giggled as he struggled to put one of his legs through the hole. He was back as fast as he was out. He held a towel that he had run hot water over with and cleaned you with it before setting it on the nightstand.
“I should get you something to cover yourself with– hang on.” Wooseok moved somewhere across the room. It was too dark for your worn out body. He was too cute though. The way Wooseok was now alert and frantic about getting you the care that you need. He came back to the bed with a large white tee. You slipped into it easily and you scooted over for him. He had also put on a pair of sweatpants while you were busy admiring him. You cuddled into Wooseok’s embrace once he got under the covers with you. You stared at him even going as far as to squint your eyes. You smiled before saying, “You’re so hot woo~ Why didn’t I notice it before?” Your hand was in his hair.
He looked at you before humming. “Because of him..” That hit you like a truck. Of course. How could you always forget about Changgu so easily? You responded with a small ’oh’ before you snuggled back into his chest and slept.
~~~~~
That’s how it all started. You end up in Wooseok’s bed, and the countless times it repeated after that. Surprisingly, you two had managed to keep it a secret from your friend group. They were very nosey when it came to everyone's love life, and considering your breakup they would push you with random guys whenever you guys went out. Wooseok always watched you closely. He gave you a stare that meant not to bother with those guys you were being pushed towards and for some reason you listened.
At some point that rule seemed to be lost because you had heard from those same friends that Wooseok had started sleeping around again. That caused some sort of possessiveness to rise up in you because you had snapped at them to be quiet about it. You still remember their reaction to it. They never talked about it– for a couple of days at least. You smiled a bit to yourself. You cried a bit more and you missed Wooseok. You especially missed his arms around you cradling you every time you cried.Then you had an idea– a bad one. What was the reason Wooseok had made the move in the first place? Changgu. How could you pay back a little bit? Changgu. You did feel a little guilty for trying to use him, but it’s not like he gave a shit about you. He made that one clear when he had broken up with you and confessed that he had felt nothing for two months. At the time that had broken you. Maybe that’s why you found yourself at that party- going crazy. Maybe that’s why you had ended up in Wooseok’s arms.
You dialed his number and he picked up on the first ring. “Hello?”
God his voice gave you goosebumps– and not the good kind. “Come over. Same passcode.” You hung up before he could reject you. Even somewhere you had hoped that he wouldn‘t come over. You were hoping that he would reject you, but he had noticed the way your voice sounded. He heard the hurt that was underneath the confidence, and so he showed up coming in. He let himself into your room and hugged you. No he didn’t love for you or care for you in that manner, but he did still care for your feelings.
You hugged him, sinking into his embrace. You somehow managed to cry more and tell Changgu everything that had been on your mind for the past four months. When Changgu heard about your hook-up with Wooseok something changed in him. He had changed his whole mood. His gaze turned darker and he was still holding you but a little tighter.
Changgu couldn’t take the fact that Wooseok would do something like that to you. He felt some Possessiveness creeping into him. Thank god he didn’t know about it when it went down because he might’ve beat Wooseok up. He held your chin and pulled it towards him. The look of hurt in your eyes was still as big as it was before. He leaned in to kiss you. That was it for you. You melted in the love filled kiss, or what was supposed to be.
The truth is that Changgu was filled with a sort of jealousy. That was something he made clear in the kiss. The physical touch that you had been craving was filled. The feeling of being with Changgu was so similar but so foreign. Have you really gotten used to Wooseok’s touch? Or was it that Changgu had once again lost his loving touch that was placed with the roughness of his burning jealousy. Maybe it was both. Your hands were so easy to travel to his hair pulling him more towards you. Your body already knew to straddle him. How soft his touch felt as he picked you up and carried you to your own bed. He gave you that same look that he used to always give you and you stripped while he did too. He leaned closer into you for another possessive kiss.
“You were always mine, and I’ll make you mine again.” Changgu kissed and nipped your neck to mark you. Part of you knew what was going on and the other part of you wanted to continue to live in that ignorant bliss. The bliss of his wants playing with your breasts as he kissed your neck. You buckle your hips to his. No one needed to know what was going on between the two of you.
“Needy, are we?” Changgu rubbed your side as he picked his head up to look you in the eyes. You nodded. Changgu chuckled and shook his head as he lined himself up and pushed in. God how you needed this sort of release, this sort of intimacy. You rolled your hips onto his. If one thing was for certain Changgu made sure to leave marks on your body. He was pounding into you like there was really no tomorrow. He let a hand snake up to your neck and press down on it. You let your eyes shut as you arched your back in ecstasy and came.
You heard Changgu chuckle again, “Oh, really? It took you that quick to cum?” Changgu caressed your side as he now chased for his own orgasm. “I guess… he wasn’t that good at pleasuring you then.” You whined into response to his words. You weren’t really sure of what it meant yourself. Was it because you hadn’t gotten a good orgasm from Changgu for so long, or you miss the orgasms that Wooseok gave you? Changgu took it the first way which pulled him to his own climax. Have you treated you softly, finally coming down from his height of jealousy, you felt guilty.
One thing was for certain, you still missed Wooseok. Even when Changgu went to help dress you and clean up any mess that you two made, it still felt distant. You missed the personal-ness that you had with Wooseok. He always made you laugh and feel good in anyway that it was. Sleeping with Changgu didn’t fix it. It didn’t fill that Wooseok-sized hole that was in your heart.
By the time morning arrived Changgu was gone. You sulked back underneath the covers. It’s okay no one will know about it.. Like how no one knew what you had going on about Wooseok. You convinced yourself to get off of your bed. Slowly… step by step.
Your phone rang and you picked it up right away. It was your friend screaming over the phone. “YOU SLEPT WITH YEO CHANGGU? ARE YOU OKAY?! YOU NEVER DO THAT KIND OF SHIT” You could’ve sworn that your heartbeat was speeding up with every word that this woman spoke.
“FIRST OF ALL SHH! SECOND OF ALL, why don’t you let me explain to you before you go arounds screaming at me?”
“Yes.. Yes.. Now tell me what the hell is going on with you!” You explained to her the feelings of loneliness of not being close to anyone. It was Wooseok who you were desperately missing his touch that you wanted, you knew that deep inside of you but you couldn’t say that. That would cause a disaster. You really blamed it on the break-up like you did every time you and Wooseok fought and your friends caught you spending all day in your room.The only thing that wasn’t clicking to you about this whole situation was how the fuck she found out about this. You for sure hadn’t told anyone.
A spark of anger lit inside of you when you realized that Changgu probably told everyone. All the words that he was saying in bed clicked. Personally, he was infuriated by the fact that Wooseok had taken advantage of you in that state and then fucked you over at the same time, maybe worse than he did. You only hoped that Wooseok hadn’t heard of it yet.
Wooseok had heard about it much earlier than you had. He had woken up to a headache, probably the hangover, and to his phone blowing up. His heart started racing, it was a good racing like the type that you get when you’re excited for something. He hoped that you had finally unblocked him and texted him. Then when he saw it was from a group message he had rolled his eyes. Although Still curious, he had opened it to check what it was about. The subject, yours and Changgu's intimate exchange, was something that he couldn’t take.
Then his heart started pounding, the kind that beats at your chest so hard that it hurt. Now he knew. He knew deep down inside that he couldn’t wait a second longer to go and visit you. He knew that he just couldn’t stand by anymore and let the time pass by. He knew that he had to clear things up between him and you for him to somehow be okay and live with himself. He didn’t even take the time to get too dressed up, just the small things that you would say about his clothes he made sure to pay attention to and apply it to his outfit. He stopped at a CVS too to get flowers. Girls always love flowers right? They’re always nice to receive right?
By the time he reached your house he couldn’t control his tears of fear of losing you. His knocking was more like banging., which made you scared in the beginning. You were crying too in fear that now Wooseok wouldn’t want you and that he had seen you differently. Barely holding back your tears you went to meet Wooseok at the door. You opened the door slowly and peeked your head out to meet a crying Wooseok. It broke your heart to see him like that. You opened the door widely and just hugged him, repeating your apologies to him. Wooseok dropped the flowers to hug you back and cry with you. He caressed you back as you cries and repeated it's okay and apologized too. It went on like that for a while, just the two of you in each other’s arms crying. Wooseok leaned his head against yours looking deep into your eyes while sniffling. “I was so scared I was going to lose you.” He cried a bit again.
“Me too. I don’t know what I’d do without you.” You sniffled again, kind of laughing now. Wooseok reached your face to brush off some of the tears that still remained.
He kissed your tear stains before saying, “Promise me that you'll unblock me and become my love.” He held out his pinky.
You laughed, how could he still be this cute and sincere. You connected your pinky with his and closed your eyes with a smile. “I promise.”
#kpop#kpop smut#kpop fanfic#kpop imagines#kpop scenarios#pentagon#pentagon smut#pentagon fanfic#pentagon imagines#pentagon scenarios#wooseok x reader#wooseok smut#jung wooseok#wooseok#wooseoksmut#jungwooseok#changgu x reader#yeoone x reader#yeoonesmut#yeoone smut#yeoonee#yeo one#changgu#yeo changgu
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Cockwarming
A/N: So i am currently writing the smut prompts but i found this in my drafts and thought that you all would enjoy it!
Summary: You and Peter like trying new things within your sex lives and the new thing that you asked Peter to do drove him wild.
Pairing: Peter parker x reader
Warnings: Smut (it’s FILTHY ya’ll 18+), daddy kink, cockwarming, rough sex, dom!peter, squirting.
Word count: 3k
PLEASE DON’T READ IF UNDER 18
You and Peter have been together for about a year and a half. You two have been intimate on many occasions and are constantly wanting to try something new. So when you went to Peter with the idea of cockwarming he was intrigued by it and wanted to try it.
“What is it?” Peter asks. His back leaned against the sofa, his hand on your thigh, his thumb rubbing soft circles on your exposed skin from the skirt. The T.V on quietly in the background.
You look around in the T.V room to see if anyone is listening, even though you know you have t room to your selfs.
“It’s when I either have your hard cock in my pussy or in my mouth and don’t move, just staying still.” You explain. You pussy throbbing at the thought of it. Peter’s eyes flutter and you can see his cock already starting to get hard under his jeans.
“Okay, I’m down.” He says, his hand moving high up your thigh. “When do you want to do it?” He asks, his sparkling brown eyes on yours.
You lean forward so your lips are just grazing his ear. His hand tightens on your thigh when he feels your hot breath gliding across the shell of his ear.
“We can do it when its movie nigh tonight. I can straddle your lap with your dick inside of me with a blanket covering us, no one will suspect a thing.” You whisper into his ear.
Peter groans at the idea. His hand slides up to cup your hot pussy. You groan in his ear.
“I like that idea and by the looks of it, so do you, baby” Peter purrs. His body leaning closer to capture your earlobe in between his teeth, tugging slightly. Your eyes flutter closed in pleasure. His thumb rubs your clit through your underwear, his lips moving from your ear to placing wet kisses on your neck.
“Uhh- Peter, that feels good,” you moan quietly as to not attract attention.
Peter pats your thigh so you can swing your legs to straddle him. You do so and your pussy is greeted by his hard cock straining against the zipper.
“Fuck, Peter.” You groan, your hips grinding down on him while your hands loop around his neck, his lips capture yours in a hungry kiss, his hands tight on your waist, guiding you on his cock. You break away from the kiss.
“What time does movie night start?” You ask breathlessly. Your hips not losing their momentum.
“At 7:00 and it’s 6:58.” He rasps, his attention focused solely on you.
“Shit. We should try it before everyone gets here to see if it’s something we really want to commit to.” You say, your hips stopping their movement. Peter lets out a whine at the loss of contact.
“Don’t worry baby, you’ll be inside me soon.” You coo.
You get up and take your panties off. You give them to Peter, he immediately puts it in his back pocket. You hear the faint sounds of people talking, getting louder as they approach the room. Both you and Peter’s eyes widen. You quickly grab a blanket and throw it over your shoulder and sit on Peters lap. You hastily unbuckle his jeans and shimmy it, and his boxers, down so his cock can spring free. Without hesitation you slide down on to his hard, pulsing cock.
Your mouth opens and you let out a small whimper as you sink down fully onto his dick. He lets out a groan that makes your pussy clench, his hands tighten their grip on your waist at the movement.
“Fuck y/n. I don’t think I can last a whole movie with your pussy clenching around me and not moving.” Peter groans in your ear.
“You’re going to have to try because once they come in here there is no going back.” You say, leaning forward, the two corners of the blanket in your hands as you loop your arms around Peter’s neck. To others it looks like a cute couple cuddling under a blanket, how wrong they are.
Not long after you get comfortable the rest of the avengers come piling in. You close your eyes, pretending to be asleep, it’s easier to explain why you’re in the position you’re in.
“Is she asleep?” Bucky whispers to Peter, seeing your ‘peaceful’ form on his chest. At this all the avengers quieten their voices and look at you and Peter. Peter’s face going bright red at all the attention. He looks at you before answering, catching on.
“Yeah, she had a long day” Peter replies. His cock so hard and wet and warm inside of you. It’s taking all of his self control to not buck his hips into you and hear you moan and whimper.
“Do you not want to take her to her room?” Sam suggests, sitting down next you and Peter. He was about to answer but you beat him to it.
“No, I want to stay here, I want to listen to the movie.” You mumble, faking as if you’ve just woken up but aren’t ready to be fully awake yet.
Everyone just shrugs their shoulders and leaves you be. They take their seats, Sam and Bucky on the couch you and Peter are currently on and the rest sprinkled around the room. You can feel Peter’s cock stretching you but he wasn’t as hard as he was before. You have to keep him hard until the end of the movie. So you shimmy up a little, your pussy leaking juices as it lifts off Peter’s cock a bit and you move back down again. Peter swallows his moan, his hands moving to your hips and squeezing, pulling you more into his body, your clit rubs onto his pubic bone and you let out a quiet whimper only Peter heard. His cock hard as ever inside of you, paining you that you can move.
“Okay so the choices are Dumbo and Fantasia” Tony says. Great, the shortest and longest Disney movies up as an option. You hope that Dumbo wins.
Half of people said Dumbo and half said Fantasia, the only person that can break the tie is you, so you obviously pick Dumbo because it’s the shortest movie.
The movie starts playing, the lights go down and everyone is munching on popcorn. You start to get desperate for friction now, feeling Peter’s swollen cock throb inside you is driving you crazy. So you ‘adjust’ your sitting position by lifting your ass off your heels and are on your knees, Peter’s dick coming out of you completely, he swallows a groan, making sure that the blanket is covering you both. The others look at you weirdly.
“Stretching my legs.” You explain to them. They nod their head in understanding and go back to the movie.
Once all their attention is away from you, you look down at Peter’s cock in shock. It’s dark red and the veins are bulging more than normal. This doesn’t look right. You lower your hips back onto his shaft with Peter’s help. Both of you stifling your moans. You turn your head away from everyone and whisper into Peter’s ear.
“Babe, your dick doesn’t look right.”
“It hurts really bad baby, I can’t go on for any longer.” He whimpers into your ear, a whimper of pain, not pleasure.
“What do you need, Peter?” You ask, wanting to help.
“I really need to fuck you y/n.” Peter responds, his lips grazing your ear. His voice breaking a little. Your heart both breaks and speeds up. The need in his voice making your core wetter but the breaking of it making your heart shatter.
“Take me to your room and you can do whatever you want to me Peter, go rough because I know you need to.” You whisper into his neck. He lets out a low growl and wraps his arms around your waist.
Your arms hold tighter around Peter’s neck and he stands up, your legs wrapping around his waist, the blanket covering you two completely.
Peter leaves the room without saying anything and rushes to his room, luckily it’s the farthest room.
Once you two are far away enough you drop the blanket and immediately crash your lips onto his. He lets out all the groans that he’s been holding in into your mouth. Peters hands move to under your ass, moving you up and down to get some friction on his throbbing cock. You moan into his mouth. Your hands burying themselves into his curls and pulling gently.
Peter shuts his bedroom door with his foot. He leans down to lay you down onto the bed. He leans up to rip your shirt off, your bra on full display. You sit up to rip his buttons open and slide his shirt down his shoulders. His cock leaves your aching pussy so he can pull down his pants. You look at it and you gasp. It’s worse than before. It looks incredibly angry. The veins bulging our more and turning a light purple.
“Babe,” you say quietly, your eyes still on his raging cock. You can see it throbbing in front of you.
“I guess a con of being Spiderman is that I can’t be hard for too long” He jokes even though you can see how much it’s hurting him. “I really need to be inside you y/n.” He adds pleadingly.
“Of course baby. Do want you need to do. You won’t hurt me.” You say lovingly.
You undo your bra and shimmy out of your skirt. You crawl backwards so your head hits the pillow. Peter follows. You spread your legs wide open, just for him. Ready for him.
Peter settle in-between your legs, placing one leg over his shoulder and the other around his waist, his favourite position. His cock lined up to plunge into your sopping pussy.
“You sure I can go rough baby?” Peter asks. You look him in the eyes, his eyes pleading that you confirm it but he doesn’t want to push your boundaries.
“Yes Peter. Let go.” You say, your hand going up to his bicep.
That was Peter needed to thrust into your pussy. You let out a loud moan as you feel him inside you, filling you up. His hips thrusting hard and fast. His hands come to squeeze your hips. You know it will leave bruises but you couldn’t care right now.
“Fuck baby. You’re so wet and tight. You take my cock so well.” Peter moans out. His one hand sliding up to massage your tit. Even through his sex fogged state he still wants you to enjoy yourself.
“Uh-Uh Peter. Your cock makes me feel so good. You’re doing so good baby. You fuck me so deep.” You moan out, knowing he loves when you talk to him.
“I fucking love you so much baby.” Peter grunts out. His hands now back on your hips. Your hands scratching down his arms.
Even after telling Peter that he can go as rough as he wants to, you can still feel him restraining. He still doesn’t think you want it that rough because he’s scared he’ll hurt you.
“I fucking love you too Pete. Uhuhuh- Fuck me harder baby. I don’t want to walk tomorrow. Give me all you’ve got.” You pant out, a challenge underlining your last sentence.
Peter is skeptical but you nod your head at him. He leans up, taking your legs and putting both of them over his shoulders, leaning down so his hands are beside your head. His hips thrust into you harder and faster. You let out a pornstar moan at the change of speed and him plowing into you. Your hands rake down his back, leaving scratches in their wake.
“ahhhh- Peter! This is how I like it baby! Your cock feels so good inside me.” You shout.
“You take my cock so well baby. Is this how hard you want me to fuck you? Huh, baby? Where you can’t think of anyone else’s name except for mine.” Peter grunts out. His mouth on your neck and chest, leaving hicks wherever his lips touch.
“Peter! Fuck yes!” You scream out at his words with his lips on you. You feel the familiar knot in your stomach. Your hand comes in-between you two and rubs vicious circles on your clit.
“You’re almost there baby, huh? My dick so good you’re gonna squirt for me?” Peter moans out. Slapping your hand away and replacing it with his. Your back arches off the mattress, your nipples taken into Peter’s mouth as he sucks. You scream out his name.
All you can hear is his balls slapping against your ass and the headboard banging against the wall, the dents in the bricks are evident.
“Peter- fuck. I-i’m gonna cum.” You whine. Your hand going into his curls, pushing his head into your chest more.
“Not yet baby, I want us to cum together.” Peter pants out around your nipple. His hand slowing at your clit, prolonging your orgasm.
You lift your head up and suck hickies onto his chest and neck.
“Talk to me y/n.” Peter moans out. His face sweaty and his eyes pleading for a release.
“Fuck- your cock feels so fucking good, so deep in my wet pussy. My pussy is hungry for your cum baby. Only you could ever fuck me this good, Peter.” Your voice scratchy from you moaning and screaming. Peter elicits a loud moan at your words.
They seem to have worked because he rubs your clit faster. You let out a pornographic scream, your walls clenching around Peter’s pulsing hard cock.
“I’m cumming baby, i-i’m cumming.” Peter chocks out. His eyes sealed shut, his eyebrows furrowing, his mouth open and his hair sticking to his forehead with sweat. He looks like a sex god. You feel your walls clenching around him. The knot releases in your stomach.
“Me too baby. Me too. Oh fuck! Pete!” You scream out as your orgasm crashes into you like a brick wall. Your juices rushing out of you and onto Peter.
His hips still as he fills you up with his hot cum. His head tilting back letting out the loudest moan you’ve ever heard from him, repeating your name like a mantra. He stays in you for a few moments, emptying himself into you. He lets down your legs gently, they wrap around his waist lazily. You and Peter both panting, chests heaving. He slowly removes himself out of you. You hiss at the emptiness. He lies down next to you, pulling you by the waist closer to him. Your hand rests on his chest.
“That was the hottest thing you’ve ever done baby. Oh my god. You fucking squirted.” Peter croaks out. You giggle at his disbelief, granted you’ve never done it before. When he asked if you were going to squirt he didn’t expect it to be true.
“You fucked me so fucking good baby. Oh my god. It was so hot you going rough.” You gush, your voice breaking because of your loud screams.
“Are you sure I didn’t go too hard y/n? I really did go all out. I’m really sorry. I should have been more gentle, fuck I’m so sorry.” Peter rambles. His brown eyes filled with worry and concern. You take his head in your hands and kiss him softly. His arms pulling you closer into his chest.
“It was amazing baby. I loved every second of it. It was perfect” You say quietly because your voice really was quite sore.
“I’m glad babygirl, I really am. Fuck I can’t even move.” Peter chuckles, you follow with a giggle.
“I’ll be right back baby, I have to clean my cum off you.” You tell him before untangling him from your arms.
You get up on shaky legs and you can already feel the pain that will be full force tomorrow. You enter the connected bathroom and dampen a washcloth. You hobble over to Peter, his eyes closing slightly. You get on the bed, tapping Peters thigh.
“Open up babe.” You say softly. Peter opens his legs for you to clean. You take the washcloth and gently glide it over his thighs and stomach. His dick has softened and looks a lot better than what it did before.
“How are you feeling baby?” You ask him. The cloth finished on him and you moved onto cleaning yourself off.
“I’m feeling a lot better, thank you babe. Now come to bed, I’m sleepy.” Peter grumbles
You toss the dirty washcloth to the side and moved next to Peter, lifting a blanket over the both of you. You nuzzle into his chest, his arms wrapping around you. Your leg thrown over his. Your eyes droop and soon sleep takes over.
***
The next morning your eyes flutter open to see Peter looking at you, his brown eyes sparkling in the sunlight. Your hand strokes his cheek, you lean forwards and give him a deep morning kiss.
“Good morning baby.” Peter rasps, his voice rough and deep.
“Good mo-“ you say but the word is cut off. You try again but all that comes out are broken sounds. You look at Peter worried. You really lost your voice from screaming last night.
“Well that’s an ego boost if I’ve ever seen one.” Peter says, smirking at you. You hit his arm playfully. He chuckles at you.
As you stand up the pain between your legs is too much and you sit back down. You try again but it’s too painful to walk. Peter walks around the bed to get to you and kneels down so you can see his eyes.
“You really can’t walk y/n?” He asks, concern swimming in his eyes.
You nod your head yes.
“I’m so sorry baby. Fuck I hurt you. How could I have been so stupid? How could I let myself do that?” Peter scolds himself. You take his hands in yours, bringing it up to your lips and giving it a light kiss.
“I wanted it rough so you gave it to me rough” You whisper bluntly. Whispering seems to make coherent words come out. “I don’t ever want you to be sorry for making me feel good. Ever.” You say, leaning forward and connecting his lips with yours.
Your lips move rhythmically with his, his tongue poking out between your lips. You allow him access immediately. Peter slowly stands up with your lips still attached as he pushes you gently down the mattress, hovering over you. Your hands move to his curls and weave your fingers through them. Peter’s hands move to your hips but you hiss out in pain. Peter stop immediately.
“What? What’s wrong? Did I do something wrong?” Peter asks frantically. You let out a soft giggle.
Peter looks down to your hips and sees purple bruises in the shape of hand marks. His hand marks. He’s horrified with himself. He’s about to jump off of you when you catch his hand, yanking him onto the bed and straddling his waist.
“You will not feel bad for leaving LOVE marks on my body, do you understand Parker?” You whisper yelled at him. “I love these marks and I love the pain in my pussy and I love that my voice is gone. I love it because you did this out of love. You wanted to make me feel good and that is exactly what you did so I never want you to ever look away at the marks that you give me and see them as negative. They are not. They are a sign of how much you care about what I like and what I want in the bedroom.” You finish, taking a breath after your outbreak.
Peter looks up at you with adoration and pulls your head down for another kiss. From that day on, Peter never looked away at the love marks that he gave you.
#peter parker x reader#peter parker x reader smut#peter parker imagine smut#peter parker smut#peter parker oneshot#peter parker oneshot smut#tom holland smut#tom holland imagine#tom holland oneshot smut#spiderman#spiderman smut#peter parker
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gave you wings
T, Geralt/Jaskier/Yennefer, 4k, modern-with-magic AU. When Geralt is woken one morning by a crow tapping at his window, he finds that it's no ordinary crow--it's a shifter, bound in animal form by a nasty spell.
read here on ao3, or below:
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Geralt was roused from sleep by something persistent tapping at his window. With a groan, he rolled over—catching sight of his alarm clock flashing 3:48 as he did—and went to investigate.
He hoped it wasn’t one of the local kids again—lately they’d become far too fond of daring each other to throw rocks at his windows. It almost made him long for the times when witchers were feared and hated—nobody would dare risk provoking him so stupidly.
When he opened the window, though, it wasn’t kids throwing rocks—no, a crow sat on his windowsill, a pebble clutched in its beak, which it promptly dropped when it saw Geralt.
“Scram,” Geralt muttered, waving it away, but all it did was hop sideways a bit before letting out a loud caw.
Geralt furrowed his brow. “Get out of here,” he said a bit louder, trying to shoo it away again. It deftly avoided his hands, flapping a little to maintain balance on the narrow sill, before hopping onto his hands and letting out an even louder CAW.
This was no ordinary crow. Why else would it be tapping on his window so early in the morning, and so unafraid of his closeness? “Fuck,” he muttered, and left the window open while he went to brew a pot of coffee.
--
The crow seemed quite at home perched atop his kitchen counter, watching him with its beady eyes as he leaned back against the fridge and downed a cup of heavily sugared coffee. “So,” Geralt finally said, setting down his mug on the counter. “What’s so important that you got me out of bed at four in the morning for?”
The crow drew itself up and ruffled its feathers, as if readying itself for a speech. It was a strangely human gesture—Geralt was reminded that they wouldn’t get very far with the crow not being able to speak.
“Hm. Can you even understand me?” Geralt backtracked, earning himself an indignant look and a low rattling sound. But the crow bobbed its head up and down in a sure nod. “But you can’t speak.” Another nod.
The crow hopped closer, then, until it was almost atop Geralt’s hand lying on the countertop. Geralt caught a flash of something shiny around its leg—was there something wrapped around it? But when he made to reach for it, the crow skittered backwards, making another low rattle and fluffing up its feathers.
“It’s alright, I just want to look,” Geralt soothed, stilling his hand. The rattle stopped, and the bird hopped hesitantly closer. Geralt waited for it to come to him, motionless and patient. Only when it perched on his hand did he bring it closer, peering intently at its leg.
A silver chain, so fine as to be nearly invisible to the eye, wound its way around the crow’s leg. This close, he could see the barely-there, shimmering aura around it—it was surely enchanted. Likely a binding charm—chains rarely served any other purpose in spells.
Geralt whistled lowly. “No ordinary crow, then,” he surmised, though he’d already known. “Human?”
The crow rattled its displeasure at the term—so it wasn’t transfigured, then. But it was still clearly sentient—
“Ah,” Geralt said, an idea dawning. “A shifter.”
Sometimes called weyr, in the old tongue—as survived in words like werewolf—the species was exceedingly rare. Even before monsters and chaos had dwindled down to nearly nothing, one would be hard-pressed to encounter a shifter, let alone recognize one upon seeing it. In human form, they were indistinguishable from anyone else, by the naked eye or by magic. They retained their wits in their animal form, too, so unless one was careless enough to be seen shifting, it was nigh impossible for them to be caught.
Their rarity had made them a target by mages and non-mages alike—they were either hunted in hopes of harnessing their unique connection to chaos, or else were pursued by the ignorant who feared anything strange.
It was nothing short of a miracle, one showing up at Geralt’s door (or window, rather).
“Someone caught you. A mage,” Geralt guessed. Only a powerful magic user would be able to bind a shifter so thoroughly. “But why are you here?”
The crow cawed and launched itself towards Geralt’s throat. Geralt jerked his head back, but he had nothing to fear—the crow was pecking at the witcher medallion that lay in the hollow of his throat.
“My friend, you’d be far better off going to a mage. I have skill with breaking curses, but none so complex as yours,” Geralt confessed.
The crow let out an ear-splitting screech. Geralt slammed his hands over his ears. That would be a resounding no, then. He decided not to broach the matter of payment just then.
He eyed the crow, wary of another reaction. When none was forthcoming, he cautiously lowered his hands, the crow watching him intently all the while—waiting for an answer.
“I’ll help you,” Geralt decided. Well, he had decided the moment he’d let the crow inside, really, but it was easier to pretend he’d made an informed decision. “May I see the charm again?”
The crow obliged, fidgeting in place but mostly managing to hold still while Geralt inspected the chain. Though it was fine, he doubted it would be as simple as snapping it—that didn’t stop him from trying anyway, though the moment he touched it, the crow screeched and beat him back with its wings, before retreating to atop the fridge. There it huddled, fussing fretfully at its leg—and then Geralt saw, almost obscured by feathers but visible when looking for it, the dark skin beneath the chain, the blackened marks that resulted from a bad burn.
“Enchanted and cursed, then. I apologize.” The crow glared at him, not moving from its spot stop the fridge and out of reach. “I won’t touch it again. I promise,” Geralt vowed, sorry that he had caused any pain in the first place.
The crow huffed, but flapped back down to the counter. It watched Geralt, waiting for his next move.
“Come with me,” Geralt said, grabbing his jacket and keys.
--
The crow gripped the handlebars of Geralt’s motorbike tightly, the wind whipping past and threatening to dislodge it. It kept starting to open its wings, only to force them closed again, as if it was reminding itself that it wasn’t actually flying. Geralt kept a close watch anyway, afraid that if he took a turn too sharply or revved the engine too suddenly, the crow would be thrown off and crushed beneath the wheels of another vehicle.
Should’ve taken a taxi, Geralt thought to himself, but it was too late now. They were already on the freeway to Vengerberg, where a certain violet-eyed sorceress kept a summer home. He supposed he could have called ahead, but he still hadn’t quite gotten the hang of cell phones—always forgot it whenever he went anywhere—and besides, Yennefer always appreciated a good surprise.
Geralt chased the sun east, watching as the horizon in front of him slowly went from indigo blue to purple to stunning gold as the sun rose. They crossed the border into Aedirn sometime mid-morning, and Geralt pulled over to a rest stop to refuel and grab something to eat.
The crow perched atop his shoulder as he entered the gas station, preening its feathers into place after being disturbed by the wind. The attendant stared openly, though Geralt was sure she must have seen weirder. He ignored it and grabbed a packet of sunflower seeds for the crow and some beef jerky for himself.
“Five sixty-eight,” the attendant said when he came up to the register, followed by, “Nice pet.”
The crow looked up from its preening and cawed loudly at her.
“He’s not a pet,” Geralt said mildly, then grabbed his food and left. While he stretched his legs out at a picnic table, the crow stretched its wings, flapping in circles above his head. Every so often, it would land briefly on the table and peck at the sunflower seeds Geralt had scattered there, before returning to its circling.
Geralt ate his jerky leisurely, and debated going back in for a soda.
--
After half an hour, Geralt felt they had delayed long enough. The crow was likely anxious to get going, and Geralt would be lying if he said he wasn’t as well. He got to his feet and whistled for the crow, which had steadily flown in greater and greater circles, and had since disappeared briefly from sight. Geralt wasn’t overly worried—until the crow didn’t show up. Geralt wished he knew what to call it—he would’ve felt stupid calling it ‘crow’.
He whistled again, louder and longer this time. Nothing happened for one second, two, and then Geralt heard it, and only thanks to his enhanced senses—frantic cawing and flapping wings among the trees behind the rest stop.
He broke out into a run, pushing aside the thin branches that snapped at his face as he fought his way through the undergrowth. The cawing was near, now, and Geralt heard tense voices accompanying.
“The cage—get the cage—!”
Geralt broke through the trees to a small clearing, stopping stunned at the sight in front of him. A silver woven net lay tangled in a heap on the ground in one corner, and opposite was a steel cage, door hanging open and waiting for an occupant. There were feathers scattered everywhere, and Geralt smelled traces of blood in the air.
And in the middle of the clearing was the source of the commotion—the crow flapped wildly above the heads of two men, talons extended and trying to scratch at their faces, while they flailed about with nets, not unlike the kind used to catch insects, though a bit bigger. A third man, older, wizened, stood apart, his eyes closed in concentration as he muttered something under his breath. Geralt’s breath caught in his throat.
Stregobor.
It had been centuries since Geralt had seen him, though he’d heard plenty about his latest exploits in the news—he was said to be making great strides in magical research, investigating transformative magic and its applications. Geralt had often tuned it out, but now it all made sense—if he wasn’t the one who had bound the crow shifter to a single form for some nefarious purpose, Geralt would eat his bike.
He wasted no time in instantly tackling Stregobor to the ground, disrupting the spell he was casting. The crow seemed to be holding its own against the two men with nets for the time being, though Geralt knew he needed to hurry—the scent of blood was growing stronger, the crow actively bleeding. He had the element of surprise, and didn’t waste it—he grappled with Stregobor, surprised at the strength the old mage still had even after so many centuries.
There was a sudden cry of pain behind him—Geralt thought it was human and not avian, but he couldn’t tell for sure. It distracted him momentarily, and that was all Stregobor needed to shout something in Elder that had Geralt flying backwards.
His back hit the ground hard, stunning him for half a second. Stregobor got to his feet, brushing the debris from his clothes—he still wore robes, even after all this time—and shot a bolt of light towards the crow.
It hit it in the wing, sending it tumbling out of the air in a heap of feathers. One of the men with a net—the only one still standing, the other writhing on the ground and clutching his bleeding face—slammed his net down onto the motionless crow with far too much force.
Geralt caught his breath and rolled to his feet, launching himself at the man that had the crow captive. He knocked him unconscious easily with a swift blow to the head, but that was as far as he got before Stregobor sent another pulse of magic towards him.
He dodged. It missed him by a hair, screaming past his head and exploding against a tree behind him.
“Stay out of this, witcher,” Stregobor warned, readying another spell. “This doesn’t have to concern you.”
“Let the shifter go and you’ll never have to see me again.”
“You know I can’t do that,” Stregobor replied, and threw the spell at Geralt. Geralt dodged again, but too slowly—it clipped his arm. Hot, agonizing pain spread from the area.
If this turned into a fight between magic and witcher skills, there was no question who would win. Geralt made a snap decision, scooping the crow off the ground and darting out of the clearing, heading back towards the rest stop.
Stregobor was hopefully depleted after the many spells he had already cast—Geralt could only hope that he wasted the rest of his energy by chasing him through the brush. If they could just get to Yennefer’s…
Sure enough, as he sprinted towards his bike, Geralt heard Stregobor yelling curses behind him. Once or twice a bolt of magic went flying by, but it missed every time.
As Geralt broke through the tree line, he hoped that he had finally lost Stregobor. He straddled his bike and tucked the crow inside his jacket, hissing in apology when he jarred the crow’s injured wing. With a roar of the engine he peeled out onto the freeway, speeding east to Vengerberg.
--
Though there was nobody pursuing them, Geralt still felt hunted as he pulled his bike into Yennefer’s expansive driveway. He all but ran to her door, pounding urgently on it, regretting not calling ahead so that she knew to expect them.
Luckily, she answered only moments later. “Do you have wards up?” was the first thing Geralt asked.
“Yes. Do you know how alarming it is for that to be the first thing you say after not seeing each other for months?” Yennefer asked, beckoning him in.
“Have to be sure,” Geralt grunted. “Got a problem, and I don’t know if I was followed.”
“Would it kill you to bring flowers or wine instead of a problem every time you come by?” Yennefer sighed. “What is it?”
Geralt unzipped his jacket and carefully extracted the crow. It was no longer unconscious, but drowsy would be an understatement—it looked on the verge of a coma, eyes half-closed and breathing shallow. A few loose feathers drifted to the ground.
“Pest Services might be more apt,” Yennefer started to say, but paused when the silver chain caught her eye. “Ah. Binding spell? Friend of yours?”
“No. I’m for hire,” Geralt said, conveniently leaving out the part where he’d received no such payment. “It’s a shifter. Wanted by Stregobor—probably for research.”
The skin around Yennefer’s eyes tightened ever so slightly—he dared to call it concern for the shifter—and she gritted her teeth—and that he knew was deep-rooted hatred for Stregobor.
“Bring him to my workroom.”
He followed her upstairs, where she kept most of her magical equipment. With a wave of her hand, she cleared the books and various sundries from the worktable against the wall, and indicated for Geralt to lay the crow down on it. He did so carefully, mindful of its injuries, and hesitantly stepped back. Yennefer didn’t appreciate hovering, but he couldn’t fight back his protective instincts that had been roaring ever since the fight.
Yennefer leaned over the crow, inspecting. Her hands went to the chain, and Geralt’s heart skipped a beat. “Don’t,” he warned, stepping forward and reaching out as if to physically stop her.
“I know,” she snapped back. “Believe it or not, I’ve seen a binding spell or two in my time, Geralt.” But she showed demonstrably more care in handling the crow, then, lest he become alarmed again.
She moved on to inspecting the crow’s wing, then, frowning at what she saw. “This was a magical injury, yes?”
“Yes. One of Stregobor’s spells—it was a bolt of light, caught it in the wing.”
“Well, lucky for it, the damage is physical only, from what I can tell. Stregobor likely meant to stun it only. Hence the lifelessness. It’ll wear off within the hour.”
Geralt let out a sigh of relief at hearing the diagnosis. Physical injuries, those he knew what to expect, how to deal with them. Now what worried him most was the binding spell.
“And the chain? Can you remove it without hurting it?”
Yennefer pursed her lips. “No. It’s an extremely strong bond—the sort not taken as a trifle. Forging a connection like this without the shifter’s consent…” She shook her head. “It’s a violation of the worst sort, Geralt.”
Geralt’s heart thudded in his chest. He wet his lips. “So what do we do?” He gazed at the poor crow, looking so small and hopeless where it lay. He couldn’t put words to his horror—being bound body and soul, and to Stregobor, no less.
“There are… theories, things I’ve read, but you have to understand,” Yennefer said, pinning his gaze, “I don’t suggest what I’m about to lightly.”
A pit formed in Geralt’s stomach. “What is it?” It couldn’t be worse than the binding spell, could it?
“If we formed another bond, one even stronger than this, it would give us room to throw off the old one. But the strength required… it would be ironclad, unbreakable. The shifter would spend the rest of its very long life bound to us.”
Even now, some eight hundred years later, Geralt thought back to the djinn in Rinde, to the connection that had once bound their destinies together, and he knew she was remembering it too. “Yen…” he trailed off. How did he put it to words? How did he express his understanding, acknowledge that she was trying to help, while warning her of doing the same thing she’d opposed so strongly then?
But then, looking into her eyes and seeing the haunted look there, he knew that he didn’t have to. She had already had this conversation with herself, and, seeing no other option, had accepted her role as becoming exactly what she hated.
A weak croak caught their attention. Geralt looked over and saw that the crow was looking slightly more lively—it had managed to sit up, at least, though it still looked bedraggled and unsteady. “Are you feeling any better?” he asked, and received a delayed nod. Then a thought struck him. “Yen, can you…?”
“Read his thoughts? I would, but they’re too muddled. I don’t know if it’s the result of the spell or if it’s always like this in animal form. I’ve never met a shifter personally, and gods know there’s hardly any literature on them.”
The crow got shakily to its feet, and before either Geralt or Yennefer could stop it, it flew up to perch on Geralt’s shoulder, nuzzling in close to his neck. He instinctively put a hand up to cradle it in place—the last thing it needed was to fall off.
“Well, then? Clearly it’s gotten attached,” Yennefer said, arching an eyebrow.
“I don’t—I don’t know.” How could he make this decision? It was too big, too important. He held the shifter’s life in his hands, and the knowledge terrified him.
The crow nipped him on the ear. “Ow,” Geralt complained, but was drowned out by the crow cawing in his ear. He suddenly felt very foolish indeed—the crow had heard them discussing it, must have, and they hadn’t even considered asking it its opinion of the matter. “Hm. I’m sorry that we can’t give you a better option.”
The crow cawed again, softer, and nibbled gently at his ear. It’s alright, it seemed to be saying, or perhaps I understand.
“It’s your decision,” Yennefer said. “I can bind you to us—permanently—in order to break the bond with Stregobor. Or, if you’d rather, you can live out your days here, and I give you my word that no harm will you come to you—though the bond would remain.”
The crow rattled in disgust. It nipped gently once more at Geralt’s ear, then flapped-hopped over to Yennefer’s shoulder, where it began preening her hair. Geralt couldn’t believe that she would allow it, but she made no move to dislodge the crow.
“Is that a yes?” he asked nervously, anticipation curdling in his stomach. The crow stopped its preening, looked directly at Geralt, and bobbed its head up and down neatly.
“Alright,” Yennefer said softly.
--
They cleared out all the furniture for the ritual that would replace the bond. The crow watched them, perched atop the table, until they had to move that too, and then it clung to Geralt’s shoulder as he worked. Finally, the room was clear, and Yennefer drew a large chalk circle on the floor.
Geralt took his designated seat warily, nerves making his skin prickle. Yennefer sat opposite him, legs crossed, while the crow was sat in between. Yennefer dimmed the lights and closed her eyes—he copied her, relying on his other senses.
He smelled smoke as Yennefer lit the bundle of herbs she’d gathered, heard the soft susurrus of the crow’s feathers as it shifted. As she began to chant, he felt the characteristic tingle of magical energy settling over him like a second skin—the bonding had started.
Yennefer’s chanting grew steadily louder, and behind his eyelids Geralt saw the light of the candles flare even brighter. The crow’s fidgeting grew wilder, and little croaks began to make their way out of its throat.
Geralt hoped it wasn’t hurting—and if it was, he hoped it would be over soon.
He himself was in no pain at all, besides the discomfort that came with all magic cast on him. He gritted his teeth and bore it, until all at once it stopped—the candles went out, Yennefer gasped once, and the silver chain around the crow’s leg fell to the floor with a soft clink.
Geralt’s eyes flew open, and where the crow had been only moments before, there was now a pair of legs—bare—and when Geralt followed them upwards, there was an entire man—also bare. Geralt blinked a few times, mind blank, before averting his gaze.
“Well,” the shifter said, smacking his lips. “That was unpleasant.” And Geralt watched as his eyes rolled back in his head and he collapsed, too quickly for Geralt to catch him.
“He’ll be fine,” Yennefer said, getting to her feet. She swayed a little as she stood, and Geralt ached to steady her—something she would never accept. “The bonding took a lot out of all of us—him most of all.”
Geralt hummed, gathering up the shifter in his arms. He weighed more than he looked—or perhaps Geralt was simply used to his weight as a crow. While Yennefer put her things back in order, Geralt carried the shifter to the guest room, tucking him into bed and feeling strangely fond as he did so.
“It’s the bond,” Yennefer explained, leaning in the doorway and watching the whole affair. She ambled over to the bed and sat down next to the shifter, reaching over to brush a strand of hair out of his eyes. “Can you feel it?”
He could, he realized, when he reached deep inside. Just beside the djinn’s magic that tied him to Yennefer, he felt a fledgling something, a fluttering newness that nipped and tugged at his breastbone.
“That’s him?” Geralt asked, though he didn’t need the confirmation—he knew it as surely as he knew himself.
Yennefer nodded, dropping her arm and standing up. “Leave him to his rest. I imagine he’ll need some time to acclimate to the bond—we all will, for that matter.”
Though Geralt wanted nothing more than to stay and study the shifter, watch over him until he woke, he followed Yennefer out of the room, shutting the door softly so as not to disturb him.
--
The shifter woke some hours later, after Geralt and Yennefer had eaten a late lunch and were debating if it would be worth eating dinner. The shifter stumbled down the stairs, interrupting their discussion, and said, quite plainly, “Are we talking dinner? I’m starving.”
“You’re up,” Yennefer replied. “How are you feeling?”
“Hungry,” the shifter—Geralt really needed to ask his name—answered. “Sunflower seeds are nice and all, but really, nothing compares to a good hot meal.”
He was wrapped in the bedsheet, Geralt realized suddenly. Of course—he had no clothes. It didn’t seem to overly bother him, though, as he crossed the room and promptly deposited himself on Geralt’s lap, wiggling a bit to get comfortable. Geralt’s hands came up automatically to wrap around his waist.
“And your wing?” Yennefer asked.
“Oh, good as new!” the shifter replied cheerily, untangling his arm from the bedsheet and wiggling it in demonstration. “Healed right up as soon as that awful binding spell was gone.” He turned to look at Geralt. “Thank you, by the way. You didn’t have to help me—I know it was a lot of trouble.”
“It’s alright,” Geralt answered. “I wouldn’t leave you to Stregobor.”
The shifter shuddered. Geralt held him a bit tighter. “Ugh. He caught me unaware—normally I’m careful, but this very handsome man bought me a drink, and then another, and then before I knew it I was being manhandled into the back of a car. And I thought, well, can’t be manhandled if I’m not a man, but then he had that awful chain…”
“You’re not the first to fall victim to him. Though binding a shifter to him is a new low,” Yennefer said darkly.
Guilt tightened in Geralt’s gut. It was different, what they had done—but was it really? It was still a bond the shifter had been forced into. He moved the shifter off his lap, ignoring the hurt look that he flashed him. “Need to go for a walk,” Geralt grunted, and headed for the door.
“Don’t mind him,” he heard Yennefer say behind him. “Let him clear his head and then he’ll be back. In the meantime—what do you say to pasta?”
The door shut heavily behind Geralt, cutting off their voices, giving him room to think. The bond still pulsed heartily in his chest, but like this, it was muted enough for him to catch his breath.
How was the shifter so blasé about it? Surely he understood the fact that he was now permanently bound to two strangers?
Geralt jammed his hands in his pockets and started to walk, focusing only on his feet hitting the ground and the evening calls of the bird around him.
By the time his thoughts had settled and he’d made his way back to the house, the sun was setting, and a deep tiredness was settling into his bones. The early morning and excitement of the day were catching up with him.
He could hear Yennefer and the shifter inside, chatting, and hesitated on the doorstep. He suddenly felt as if he were intruding—what right did he have to storm off in the middle of a conversation and expect them to welcome him back seamlessly? Clearly they were getting along just fine without him.
The door opened suddenly and a gust of wind at his back urged him inside. Yennefer. He let her guide him to the kitchen, where the shifter stood washing dishes at the sink and she sat on the counter. “Ah, you’re back!” the shifter said, setting down the plate it was washing.
“Jaskier was just telling me about your trip here. It sounded quite exciting,” Yennefer teased.
“I like a bit of adventure, but I could do without the almost-kidnapping,” Jaskier said, leaning in closer to Geralt. “Lucky I had you there, I suppose.”
“Hm.” Geralt hesitantly lifted an arm, and Jaskier wasted no time in burrowing into his side. “Lucky.”
“And lucky you have such wonderful friends as Yennefer,” Jaskier continued, looking meaningfully at Yennefer. She raised an eyebrow, but hopped off the counter and sidled closer. Geralt let her sink into his side too, holding them both tightly, and felt the thrumming bond inside of him settle in contentment at having them close.
Lucky indeed.
#the witcher#geraskier#geraskefer#yenralt#yenskier#yennskier#geralt x jaskier#geralt/jaskier#geralt/jaskier/yennefer#the witcher fanfiction#witcher fanfiction#geralt#jaskier#yennefer
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