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#everything he touched turn to gold but it’s so hard to form connections when you can’t shake hands
vampirepunks · 2 months
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Since Kojima’s been saying that the Death Stranding film is going to tell a story that can only be told through the film medium, I really hope it’s a prequel to the game. There are a lot of background events represented through text and dialogue that wouldn’t translate well to a video game format on their own.
It’d be really cool to see the start of the Stranding, Victor and Igor’s backstory (as seen in the DS novelization), snippets from Sam’s childhood/early years with Bridges, the development and construction of the chiral network, and most of the events described in Higgs’ journals.
Coffin’s decision to leave her family behind, start a terrorist uprising by radicalizing the porters who unknowingly abetted human sacrifices by delivering BBs for the chiral network, and the decision to adopt Higgs as her protégé? That story alone would be worthy of a film.
#just thoughts#i would kill to see little baby Peter#and witness his Becoming™️ from that scared kid into the man we know and love#i know that ‘new world with a new sky’ moment would be POWERFUL#and what of his porter partner who died? what did that relationship look like? how close were they?#what of his relationship with Fragile after Coffin died? having a best friend who probably never saw his face?#not to mention his tragic rise to power and the secrecy that came with it. having to kill to maintain his DOOMS because people needed him#like he was handpicked as the inheritor of a rebellion against Bridges/the UCA and suddenly ended up with a LOT of responsibility when-#-Coffin died. and suddenly he was living a double life to care for and protect the people of the Western region#and those folks responded by calling him King Midas. naming him after a folk hero whose defining tragedy is being powerful but alone#everything he touched turn to gold but it’s so hard to form connections when you can’t shake hands#(sorry not sorry lol)#it’s such a complicated and nuanced backstory & so many people don’t even know about it because it’s in hard-to-reach texts & a side quest#idk I just think it’d make a really good movie. bonus points if it canonized him being a repatriate#it’d make a really good sci-fi political thriller/horror#i would vaporize in my seat if it cold opened with higgs saying 'once there was an explosion...' but now i'm just being self-indulgent#death stranding#death stranding movie#death stranding a24#higgs monaghan#logan.txt
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chvnnie · 2 years
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no bestie coz, i've been thinking a fuck lot about a lazy makeout sessions with chan and im losing it. like he's just having his fingers wrapped around your neck, his knee pushed up between your legs, and you just grind against him, a smirk forming on his lips when you let out a whine, but he hushes you, his lips pressed against yours, and he just mumbles "tell me what to do, doll."
BESTIE UGH IM LOSING IT MY BRAIN ROT IS JUST GOING KSHDJEJD WATCH ME SCREAM ABOUT IT TO YOU IN OUR DMS
BESTIE I STG YOUR BRAIN >>>
it was only supposed to be a little peck. just to feel his lips against yours before you head to bed. you move to pull away, but he catches your lips again, and like, what’s the hard in extending the kiss just a bit? his lips moving lazily against yours, and it feels so good you can’t help but sigh happily into the kiss.
chan takes your parted lips as an invitation, and it’s only a matter of time before he pulls you onto his lap, hands cupping your face as your tongues lazily spin around each other. you have your hands on his upper neck, fingers twirling around his brown curls in the back. it’s such a gentle moment - two lovers finding solace in each other after long, busy days.
it was only supposed to be a little peck, until you “accidentally” nipped at chan’s bottom lip.
his moans filled your mouth, one hand falling from your face and finding home on your throat. chan squeeze it with just enough pressure to make you dizzy, the gold chain of your necklace (which was decorated with a “c”, the one chan gave you for your last birthday) was digging into his palm.
muffled whines fell from your lips, fingers tugging on his hair as heat began to pool in your lower belly. you were slotted on chan’s thigh, legs hanging over either side, so why wouldn’t you start dragging your hips? only damp panties separating you from his firm thigh.
chan smiled into the kiss, hand tightening just slight as he kissed you deeper. what was soft and gentle was now rough and hard, spit connecting you two as the kisses grow sloppier.
you move your hips, the speed at which you were riding his thigh increasing as his hand tightens. you’re whining, everything too overwhelmed yet not enough.
how did a peck turn into this?
“tell me what to do, doll.” chan mumbled against your lips, groans following the sentence when your nails start to dig into his scalp.
but it’s too hard to talk, not when you need his lips against yours, not when you’ve grown so needy you can’t even think straight.
chan pulls you away from him by your throat, pressure easing. “words.”
you whimper, lips trembling as you forced the words out. “ne-need channie.”
he chuckles, the thumb on the hand around your throat reaching to stroke your cheek. you look so pretty - lips red and swollen, puppy dog eyes staring into his as you silently use them to beg. “need me where, baby?”
of course he would make this harder on you.
your hands fell from his hair, each moving in a different direction; the right took his free hand, moving it to your clothes core. chan’s eyes rolled back when his fingers touched the damp material, his groans making your legs quiver. the left hand took found his shorts, gently stroke his hard length.
“fuck.” he hissed out, hand around your throat tightening from your touch.
“need you everywhere.” you whisper, breaths deepening as chan slipped the hand on your cunt inside your panties.
chan reconnected your lips, all tongue and teeth as he used two fingers to play with you. “have me.” he grunted, your grip on his cock matching the tight grip he had on your throat. “ ‘m yours.”
the amount of times i used the word “grip” im so sorry
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Card positions:
1. The heart of the question
The KING OF CUPS embodies the perfect balance between the executive and the heart. Not only are you able to assess and manage a situation logically, but you can also draw upon your intuition and understanding of human interactions. As a leader, you care as much about achieving your goals and objectives as you do about making sure everyone is happy and engaged along the way. If you sense that logic and emotion are out of balance, draw on the energy of this King to realign yourself.
2. The dilemma or issue
The KING OF WANDS represents pure fire energy in its masculine form. Instead, he is more inclined to take an idea and then enlist others to help him actualise it. Others naturally gravitate towards you because you are charismatic, focused, and determined, and they believe in you and your vision. You are here to leave a legacy.
3. North – where can you ground, what is happening in your physical world, how are you connected to the earth?
The TEN OF COINS is a positive sign that you have reached a point of completion and accomplishment in your journey. You have accumulated wealth and abundance through your hard work and dedication and can now relish sharing this wealth with others. There is no ‘wanting’ for any more; you have everything you need, especially within the material realm. You are financially secure and trust that, because of your personal successes and accomplishments, you will always have what you need and desire.
4. East – what is dawning in your life? What are you now able to see? What shoots are coming through, prompting reflection on when you sowed them? Where can you find clarity in your life?
This KING OF COINS is a faithful provider; he uses his ambition and confidence to create wealth for himself and others and generates his self-worth from what he has accumulated and can share with others. He is also a fatherly figure who provides others with advice, guidance and wisdom, especially in financial and work-related matters. You are like King Midas: everything you touch turns to gold. The King of Coins often indicates the final fulfilment of a creative task, a business venture or investment. You do not need to take any more risks.
5. South – what must you do? What action can you take? What can you create in your life right now, where can you channel your energy, what fuels your fire?
The ACE OF CUPS (REVERSED) represents the vessel of your subconscious mind; the five streams are your five senses and the abundant emotion and intuition flowing from within you. In the reversed position, it speaks to love for oneself. So, before you send your love out to the world, send love to yourself, filling up every cell in your body with Divine love and happiness. And the more you do this, the more you can exist in flow with life itself. The reversed Ace of Cups is a sign that you are in connection with your subconscious mind and attuned to your intuition. You are exploring this part of yourself privately right now, and discovering how you can bring more intuition and flow into your life.On the flipside, the Ace of Cups reversed may be a sign that you are repressing your emotions, not wanting to express yourself fully to the outside world. You have your reasons for keeping your feelings close and not wanting others to know what’s going on inside.
6. West – how are you feeling? Are your feelings flowing? How deep are you willing to look? What is your intuition telling you?
This is the essence of the REVERSED NINE OF CUPS, and when it emerges in a Tarot reading, it asks you to reconsider what you’re wishing for and align it with your Highest Good. You may have lost touch with what’s important to you, instead favouring the ego and chasing what will impress others. The reversed Nine of Cups is a sign that instead of looking outside yourself for your happiness, you should search within. The Nine of Cups reversed serves as a reminder not to over-indulge at the expense of your health and well-being. You may be prone to overdoing it on food, alcohol, drugs, partying or spending. Keep everything in moderation and focus on the long-term consequences of your actions, even if they bring short-term pleasure.
I don't see anything here we haven't discussed before. This aligns with every previous reading I've done for Benedict.
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infjtarot · 2 years
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King of Pentacles ~ Anna Maria D'Onofrio Tarot
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Dressed comfortably and unobtrusively, wearing a hat instead of a crown, his throne was placed outside, right in the middle of Nature; he laid the groundwork for his strength based on material and kept the connection with the Earth. He could be an industrialist, an entrepreneur, or a rich farmer. He knew two forms of wealth: the coin he held in his hand represented the amount of money he knew how to earn without much effort and with pleasure. The flying coin he was looking at represented his actions to the world, virtual currency, or spiritualized material things. The King of Pentacles could easily become a millionaire or a person who is completely separate from the miraculous wealth of the present. His negative meanings include deception, dirty money, and stock speculation. He could also be a weapon dealer or a seller of toxic goods. Roi de Deniers represents abundance, security, ambition, power, stability, discipline, loyalty, and control. He is a father figure who loves caring for others by providing advice, support, and wisdom, as well as more material aspects such as financial support and prosperity. He demonstrates a true generosity through what he has accumulated and shares everything in his ability with others. This King very much resembles King Midas. Everything he touches turns into gold. It is a shining example of financial stability, the sharing of wealth and experience with people around. He is a man who has reached the pinnacle of financial power and influence and can be assured of uninterrupted prosperity. He is no longer forced to fight for what he wants, unlike the Valet de Deniers and Cavalier de Deniers, he is able to do anything he wants because he has already proven himself. Thus, he often indicates the final achievement of a creative task, a business or an investment. Because of enthusiasm, responsibility, and attention to detail, you have achieved great things and reached a milestone. You can now enjoy everything you have accomplished so far and the successes you have created. This generates a life of opulence, not only from a financial point of view but also spiritual, which prepares you very well for the future. Whenever you need skills to handle your daily business competently and efficiently, you can call on the power of Roi de Deniers. Let’s work hard methodically and conscientiously. The more time and resources you generously give, the more you will receive, and earning more money is a talent that this King loves to do. He is obsessed with business and very enterprising. This card is totally involved in any activity that provides the ability to generate more wealth or more business. King is able to succeed in any field and can find opportunities almost anywhere! He can grab an idea and make it prosper financially. He indicates that there is a methodical, planned and thoughtful approach that will lead you to success. Many consider him to be dull and unimaginative, but it is a likely result of his preference to do things the classic way. You have experienced what works best in the past and you have discussed your own methods and practices which, you know, will continue to work in the future. So, you prefer to continue on this path rather than trying new ways of doing things. You know that you have reached the peak of success, so you do not want to take risks anymore. Roi de Deniers also asks you to be pragmatic and to keep you informed of practical issues. You need to focus on the essentials and use your problem-solving skill to find solutions. This King can also lead the political game, negotiating comfortably with everyone, regardless of the status of the opposing party. He reminds you that appreciating the sensual and luxurious side of life often makes it more enjoyable. As such, he attracts quality rather than quantity and teaches how to live a full and happy life. He is not afraid to spend money when necessary to generate a lot of happiness and enjoyment in life.   https://tarotx.net/tarot-card-meanings/marseilles/
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erodasfishtacos · 3 years
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~ MLB Curious Gazes ~
prompt: four different situations where people have run into or hung out with MLB!H - told from their perspective.
word: 6k +
warnings: language, mentions of sexual content
If you enjoyed this please - reblog, like, recommend, comment, and inbox me to chat about it!
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enjoy!
-=-=-=-=-=-
The Doctor’s Office
Aubrey couldn’t believe her eyes as she sat in her uncomfortable, too small chair in the empty waiting room at the OBGYN office in the early hours of the morning. 
She was sitting alone with her baby boy sitting in his carrier on the floor - it was his nine month checkup and it was taking forever to be seen.
The woman was sitting, scrolling on her phone when out of her peripheral she saw an extremely - like extremely handsome man step into the area with a carrier.
Aubrey was a married woman but holy shit this guy was hot- without even trying is the thing. 
He had on a New York Yankees Nike hoodie and a pair of Nike athletic shorts with some calf length Blake Nike socks and trainers.
In the carrier was a fresh little baby, couldn’t be older than three months who was bundled up with a sunflower headband on.
The man was multitasking with a curly haired toddler on his other hip as he finds a seat a little bit down from Aubrey on the opposite side.
His wife was standing up at the check-in and of course it made sense that she was absolutely beautiful as well even though Aubrey could relate to how tired she looked.
The woman still had a small bit of her pregnancy bump left signifying that the baby was indeed very very new to the world.
She keeps glancing over at the man, he looks so familiar but she would remember if she had even met someone that handsome.
Then the context clues hit her, his hoodie, his toddler son was also in a little Yankees hoodie that matched his fathers and Aubrey googled quickly.
Her eyes flitted throughout the recent articles.
Styles’ Alleged $65 Million Dollar Bonus
Hot Head Harry Styles - how he managed to start three bench clearing brawls in one game!
Breaking Records and Bats - Styles manages to break his own record in the same season followed by breaking a bat in celebration
Holy shit.
She could help but watch them - this was much more interesting than reading a magazine.
Aubrey didn’t follow baseball but Harry had turned celebrity status and was this well known cocky dickhead to the media - women and men loved and drooled over him for his looks and his skills.
Right now, he sat down with his two babies - the boy looked exactly like Harry, it was quite unbelievable from the curly locks to mossy green eyes that was copy and paste.
Harry was currently tucking an applesauce pouch between his lips and guiding the boy's small hands to hold it for himself.
“Good job,  ,” He murmurs in the dead quiet waiting room as he tucks him further into the crook of his arm.
Harry looks up to his wife who joins them, she is a bit in awe when Aubrey sees him palm a bit at her bloated belly and whisper, “Y’look gorgeous today, mama.”
Aubrey couldn’t help but frown, she wished her husband did that.
YN sits down, leaning her head on his shoulder - Aubrey didn’t know her but she seems tired - of course she was a new mother.
The silence is broken when a nurse comes out and with an apologetic face says, “I’m sorry, we are running really behind today. It might be another thirty minutes,” before shutting the door again.
Harry kisses his wife’s forehead before wrapping his unoccupied arm around her shoulder, a flashing gold band on his ring finger.
Aubrey zones off for a little when her son wakes up, rocking the carrier a few times before he settles again.
She’s brought back to the couple when she hears a sniffle comes from Harry’s wife and his face turned towards hers, hand rubbing her shoulder reassuringly.
“Mama, she’s so healthy. There’s nothin’ to worry about, did a perfect job growing her in y’belly. I know these check-ups make you anxious but nothin’ is gonna be wrong,” He soothes, a near whisper because of how quiet the room is and he didn’t want to disrupt.
“I just don’t know if she’s been getting enough milk, it’s so hard to tell,” YN replies sadly, like she’s disappointed in herself.
“Y’kidding me? She’s our chunkiest baby - look at those little rolls. She’s on y’tits more than any of the boys including me,” He jokes softly, obviously trying to make her feel better.
It seems to work a little bit because she lets out a light giggle with a roll of her eyes, “No one is on them more than you.”
Harry shrugs unashamed before replying seriously, “Everything will be okay. She’s perfect and healthy.”
The curly haired little boy gets a bit squirmy with the wait after he finished his pouch, asking to be set down which his father does.
Harry is watching him carefully, his nervous but still adventurous little two and a half year old, as he toddles around the waiting room.
When he spots Aubrey and her carrier, he wanders over looking up her with wide curious eyes, he points at her son and squeaks, “Baby?”
Ever the diligent father, Harry is up and next to his son, Aubrey is a bit starstruck if she’s honest when he talks to her.
“M’sorry, he’s a curious little one,” Harry smiles at her, going to pick Ezra back up to guide him away from bothering her.
Aubrey waves her hand though, lifting the visor to show the sleeping baby, “Yeah, he’s a baby. That’s Dominic.”
The boy gazes at the baby before lisping, “Bry!”
Aubrey isn’t sure what he means but his father clarifies, “You’re right, Dominic is a baby just like your little sister Briar.”
“Okay,” Ezra shrugs and goes back to his mom to inform him of what he just discovered before crawling up and cuddling into her chest.
Harry nods, “Thanks for indulging him.”
“No pro-problem,” She stutters like an idiot and Harry smiles a bit like he knows but doesn’t say anything else before going back to his family.
A few minutes later when a high-pitched cry resounds through the room, Harry is carefully cradling his daughter who Aubrey notes looks nothing like him but like her mother even though her features were still so little.
“Shush, darlin’,” Harry coos with a soft drawl, leaning in to kiss at the newborn’s button nose.
Briar roots at her father’s chest, smacking her plump lips, and squeaking in frustration when she doesn’t find a nipple. It makes Harry chuckle before he glances at his wife and his smile falters a bit, “Sweetheart, did y’bring a bottle?”
Aubrey watches his wife shake her head, she is facing away from her so she can’t see her expression but gauging Harry’s it seems that she may be upset, “No, I completely forgot. I didn’t bring my nursing blanket either - I’m going to have to go the bathroom. M’being such a bad mom.”
The observer feels a pang in her chest, she can definitely relate to not always feeling like she is a good mother because of little mistakes she makes like forgetting diapers, buying the wrong formula, forgetting to bring a pacifier.
“Hey,” Harry’s voice is firm, “Y’not going to talk like that when s’the farthest thing from the truth. S’okay, we have four babies, we’re both goin’ t’forget things sometimes, okay? Here, let me help you.”
Aubrey wishes she had a husband who was as empowering, supportive of his wife.
He hands the whimpering baby over to his wife, he’s then tugging off his hoodie. Aubrey tries but fails to divert her eyes when his shirt rides up revealing  a glimpse of his taut abdomen and a light dusting of hair leading into his shorts, obscene tattoos covering his hipbones .
Harry maneuvers the hoodie over his wife’s shoulder, helping her tug down her loose shirt and nursing bra, and guiding his newborn to his wife’s breast until she latches and starts suckling hungrily.
“There y’go mama,” He whispers encouragingly before tugging Ezra back onto his lap to rock him a bit as he’s getting whiny - ready for a nap soon and not liking being in an unfamiliar place for too long.
-
Aubrey is buckling Dominic into his carseat when she spots the other family exiting the office. 
Harry’s wife looks much more relaxed, a smile on her face, and her arm tucked around her husband’s narrow hip, they’re parked close to each other, and Aubrey climbs into her small sedan - blasting the aircon.
She watches the parents strapp their kids into a massive, tinted and brand new cadillac escalade that was no doubt over a hundred thousand dollar car but who could expect them to be driving around a mid-level minivan?
After the kids are secured and they close the doors, Harry presses his wife up against it with his arm resting over her shoulder against the window. He is whispering to her, their mouths close before he ducks down to connect their lips.
His hand comes back to her deflating baby bump like he did in the doctor’s office, hand massaging the skin with adoration that was visible even to Aubrey as she sat in her car watching them.
Later on in the week, as she sits on her couch, a video pops up on her timeline. It’s a sports report she was about to skip until the name caught her attention. 
The sports reporter stated, “Harry Styles was fined an alleged sixty thousand dollars at last night’s game after getting into a verbal altercation when the second base man purposely tripped him.”
It flashes to the man she just saw in the doctor’s office in a form-fitting Yankee’s blue and white striped uniform with a helmet on as he ran at an impressive speed from first to second, stumbling when the baseman put out his foot.
Harry recovers quickly enough to touch the base to be considered safe. 
After that though, he’s pushing himself up and brushing off the dirt, then he’s charging towards the man who fucked up the play. 
He has no fear as he gets in the man’s face, veins on his neck standing out as he shouts. They don’t play the audio but you could tell Harry was cussing this man up and down.
It flashed back to the reporter speaking to another, “Nearly every team in the league reports that Styles is an absolute nightmare to play against from his skill to his downright arrogant and cocky attitude. He’s not someone I’d find myself wanting to hang around.”
“I agree with you there, Tucker. He has a right to be proud with all of his broken records and achievements but being a bit humble would do this man so good. I feel sorry for his wife and kids. He probably just spends all day bragging about himself.”
Aubrey clicks off the video, if only everyone in the world just saw the Harry Styles she saw just a few days ago - well they’d all change their minds on what kind of person he is. Especially what kind of husband and father.
--
The Charity Event
It was a charity event at Madison Square Garden in Time Square. 
It was for all Major League Baseball teams who had qualified for the playoffs and of course, The New York Yankees were there.
There were tables filling the whole stadium, extravagant in white linen tablecloths, multiple bars, and it was black tie dress code. 
It was a private event and it was not open to the public but after the dinner there would be awards given out and that would be broadcasted.
Nicole was there with her husband, Trent, the left outfielder with an average batting score. He wasn’t the most popular on the team by far - well everyone got outshined by Styles. 
She couldn’t help but be a little bitter that Harry had gotten a $60 million dollar bonus (the biggest bonus ever gifted but also the Yankees were not taking any chances at losing their star and their ultimate money-maker). Trent got a measly bonus of $100,000 which was nothing in baseball terms. 
The wives and girlfriends of the Yankees players did not like YN one bit. It really wasn’t fair because she was always lovely, kind, and friendly. It didn’t matter because they were all spurred on by jealousy of what she had.
Nicole couldn’t help by gaze at Harry as they sat at the same circle table towards the podium where the awards would be presented after dinner. He was in a sharp all black suit with a small team logo pin of the lapel.
She couldn’t deny how stunning YN looked in an absolutely stunning dress. It was a one-shoulder with sparkling black stripes against a tan background, it fit like a glove and accentuated her stunning legs with a high slit. ***
It blew Nicole’s basic black Gucci dress out of the water which made her even more infuriated at the woman. She knew she was being irrational and if she hated her so much, why couldn’t see stop staring at the couple?
Nicole could get away with it by looking past them at other tables but to be quite honest, the two were much too wrapped up in each other to be aware of any of their surroundings or people watching them.
Trent was off bullshitting with all the other players while the Styles’ sat at the table and Harry waited for people to approach him - like the cocky asshole that he was. He would give them a minute of his time before becoming visibly bored and returning his attention back to his wife.
As the appetizers arrived, Trent finally sat down with a grunt, giving his wife literally no attention as he dug into the salad like a slob. 
Across the table, Harry looked down at his plate, picked out all the tomatoes and stabbed them with his fork. He then brought his hand over to his wife who giggled and let him feed her the three little tomatoes for his salad.
“Don’t like tomatoes, Styles?” Henry, third-baseman, jokes as he watches him feed his wife without any shame.
“I love ‘em, m’missus just really like the little grape ones,” Harry shrugs casually - like that didn’t just sound like the most whipped thing that he could say.
Trent probably couldn’t even guess Nicole’s favorite color - let alone know something so minuscule like YN like the little tomatoes that come on house salads. 
Throughout the whole dinner, it was quite disgusting how infatuated these two were with each other - Harry had at least one hand on her body at one time - her thigh, shoulder, even cupping her neck in a way that was almost too intimate for the setting.
At one point, Harry notices that YN is a bit quiet - sipping on her glass of water and he pulls back from the conversation, murmuring, “Y’alright, mama?”
Nicole bites her lip hard at the cute pet name, feeling even more dislike towards YN - why couldn’t she have had someone like Harry?
“D’you think the babies are okay? Ezra’s been so anxious lately,” YN replies quietly, there were no phones allowed at the event and had to be left at home or at the door.
Harry kisses her temple, “Y’know Ezzie is good with m’mum, doesn’t get as anxious as he used to at sleepovers. Y’know East and Cash are probably on a sugar high.”
YN nods, agreeing and Harry jumps right back into the conversation but she notices that he keeps looking over at his wife to check on her.
Trent accidentally knocks her elbow hard and just grunts out a bland, “Sorry.”
The topic changed to traveling for games. Ellie, another wife of a player who was nice to YN were chatting about how stressful it is.
“I know, loading all three boys up is rough when we do decide to travel to games with H,” YN says to Ellie, a small smile on her face.
“Ugh, I know. Lily and Parker are the worst flyers! They usually end up throwing up or not being able to nap at all,” Ellie groans about her two little ones she has back at home.
YN let’s out a laugh that just irked Nicole to not end.
“It's going to be even harder when we have more kids,” YN laments like she’s bothered.
“Oh? More kids?” Ellie squeaks with excitement, clapping her hands together.
Nicole reaches a breaking point, jumping into the chat,“Really? More kids? Don’t you think you should focus on the ones you have? Or do you think because your husband makes an unfair amount of money, you can just have as many as you want? Hire nannies and act like you take care of them?”
Before YN frowns, about to respond when Harry interjects with a booming, displeased voice, “First off, why don’t y’mind your own fuckin’ business. My wife and I can ‘ave any many kids as we want, last time I checked.”
He continues with tense posture, all of his previous calmness disappears, “Second off, don’t take it out on my wife tha’ your husband got a shit bonus, we all know tha’ why y’pissy. And don’t act like y’dont have a nanny for your one kid while we don’t nor ever will have one.”
Nicole sneers, “You’re a cocky bastard.”
Harry smiles in faux charm, “Of course I am, dear. I’ve got a fucking beautiful wife, three healthy babies, the most records broken in history, and the fattest bank account in this room.”
“Alright, alright,” Trent interrupts and it doesn’t go unnoticed that he doesn’t defend his wife. Instead he shoots Harry an apologetic look for his wife’s behaviors.
Harry just scoffs at the couple, rudely rolling his eyes, and tugging his wife in for a kiss that’s a bit too intense but he can’t help himself, smiles against her lips when his wife pinches his thigh playfully.
He says (not quietly at all), “All these women are jealous of you, hm? S’cause you’re so beautiful and such a fuckin’ catch.”
Nicole feel a sharp pang in her chest at the indirect comment - fucking asshole.
Deep down, Nicole is unfavorably realizing that somehow YN has it all - a loving husband, who is seemingly head over heels four her, three well-behaved children, and everything she could ever want - sitting on Harry’s $600 million dollar net worth, on top of being gorgeous.
She didn’t have that. Trent and her were on the rocks constantly, has definitely cheated on her, their kid is a literal nightmare, and they’re both so reckless with money they have no savings.
It made her jealous to see Harry whispering in YN ear to make her giggle- lips brushing her ear, his hand splayed across her bumcheek while they waited for drinks at the bar, she even hears them murmur ‘I love yous’ at least twice.
Then the lights dim, spotlight on a podium in the front of the room, an older man in a crisp navy suit taking the stage.
“It is an honor for me to announce ‘Player of the Year.’ The decision by the board of Major League Baseball wasn’t a hard one. The statistics and records broke continuously by the man has led us to only one option.”
Everyone watches all the other players in room deflate a bit because they realize the award is going to Harry yet again.
 “He is again breaking a record tonight, he is the first player to earn this achievement four years in a row. The duality of this man when it comes to pitching a curveball or hitting a homer is truly remarkable.”
It makes all the players even more irritated than they already are when they look over at Harry who’s sitting back, manspreading, hand on the back of his wife’s neck gently, and a cocky, unbothered grin.
Like this award wasn’t the biggest accomplishment he could earn.
One of the players from an opposing team at a different table mutters to one of his teammates, “Fucking arrogant asshole. The only thing this award does is feed his gigantic ego.” 
“Such a douchebag,” The other agrees, jealousy tinges his voice.
“I’ve most likely made it obvious who the the recipient is this year. The New York Yankees pitcher with the most strikeouts to date and top-scoring hitter - Mr. Harry Styles!”
The crowd erupts in applause, whistles, and a standing ovation because despite his unsavory demeanor - no one could deny he was a legend.
Before he gets up, Nicole watches as he cups his wife’s cheek - locking her lips in a kiss before she has to give him a playful shove when he tries to slip some tongue.
When Harry gets up to the stage, he shakes the hand of the announcer and takes the award from him, setting it on the podium.
“Fourth year in a row has a nice ring to it,” Harry gives the crowd a dazzling white smile that have his dimples digging into his cheek.
The crowd whistles and coos.
Nicole notices YN getting teary-eyed as she watches her husband accept the award.
“I want t’thank a few people tonight. I want t’thank m’wife and the mama of my babies - YN. She’s supported me from when I was in college with no other career path but baseball, unsure of if I’d fail or not, she stuck through it.”
She can sense everyone’s eyes dart over to YN who is still staring up at her husband - who is giving her a gleaming smile right back.
“We’ve been through some really hard obstacles in our first years as a couple but she’s the reason for all this - the fact that she always believed in me when I didn’t believe in myself.”
The audience is respectful, quiet as he publicly tells a story of his deep love for his wife.
“I want t’thank m’three babies. Easton, Cash, and Ezra. They inspire me to be a better better man and a good role model - even though I think y’all agree they won’t be if they watch too much how I play when I’m out in the field.”
The crowd erupts in laughter at Harry poking fun at his own antics that he’s most famous for. He goes on to thank the team, coaches, Nike, everyone on the professional side of career.
When he’s done, everyone stands back up to congratulate him, patting him on the back as he returns to his seat.
Nicole watches as Harry sits back down, chuckling as he swipes a tear off his wife’s cheek, “Why y’crying, mama?”  
“I’m just so proud of you. Everything you do for me and our babies. The best husband, best daddy. My heart is just full,” She murmurs, clearly not meant for others to hear but Nicole was eavesdropping.
Harry’s eyes darken with something Nicole can’t identify but does notice his hand creeping a bit further up her thigh.
He leans into whisper something into her ear before she sees his lightly nip at her lobe before pulling back to join into the conversation.
-
After the lights come back up, Trent abandons her to go shoot the shit with other guys.
When she trails off to the bathroom, down a long hallway from the main area - she hears a rustling from behind a door labeled with a plaque that says ‘executive meeting room’.
Nicole pauses confused, all these offices and other rooms were strictly off limits during events obviously. She was confused to hear someone in a room that was not supposed to be in use.
Then she realizes it’s not just someone - it’s two people.
“S’good, sweetheart. Give it t’me so good.”
And she knows right then and there all she needs to know about who’s in that conference room and what they were doing.
“Be quiet, you’re being too loud,” YN scolds back, the walls were clearly thin because she could hear the exchange.
“Make y’cunt not feel like heaven then,” He remarks back, his voice slower and more soft than it would be in front of people.
God, Trent and her haven’t slept together in ages - let alone has spontaneous hookups or dirty talk like that ever.
When they all end up back at the table before the closing speech for the night, Nicole spots a nicely sized mark under Harry’s jaw that he’s wearing with pride.
YN had her lipstick wiped off and was much more clingy as the night rolled on which Harry seemed to thrive on.
As she and Trent are on their way home, Nicole speaks into their silence, “I don’t think our relationship is working.”
Not after she saw love and happiness at that event table tonight - she wanted that kind of love not settling for some cheating asshole.
-
The Little League Game
It was a cool autumn evening, it was an important game - if you could call it that for the little league team that Kayla had her son on.
The goal was to determine which team would move onto the playoffs, even though most of this was all in good fun because it was for eight-year-olds and it wasn’t serious.
Kayla couldn’t lie and say that she didn’t spend some of the time curiously gazing at the New York Yankees player who would come to watch his son play.
He wasn’t at every game due to his schedule but it seemed like he came to whatever ones he could with his wife and other three kids.
They had taken the bench on the bleachers right below her so she had an up close and personal view of the family when they’ve never sat this close before.
As the kids warmed up, Harry had his youngest son who looked to be about four sit next to him, squished between his dad and mom happily.
Their middle son was next to his mom on the other side, looking to be about six, and he was wriggling impatiently in his seat - eager to join the other kids in the jungle gym.
The baby girl who looked about a year and a half old didn’t look anything like her brothers - it was obvious that she was a spitting image of her mother (who was stunning).
She was curled up in her mom’s lap, asleep with her face squished against her mother’s chest - a pacifier suckling fiercely between her puffy lips.
“Mama, please,” The curly haired boy begs with greedy puppy dog eyes as he keeps glancing back to look at the other kids.
“You stay right where daddy and I can see you, yes?” YN murmurs, brushing back his unruly curls that where getting long, “And what are our rules?”
“Stay where you can see, don’t talk to strangers, and be nice to others,” He recites perfectly, Kayla was a bit blown away by his manners.
She watches baseball. It was hard to believe their children were so mild mannered when their father was the exact opposite - at least on the field.
Harry was rustling in the diaper bag for something as his son looked at him with wide, concerned eyes, “My baby, daddy.”
“I know, Ezzie. M’lookin’ f’your baby,” His father replies softly, the polar extreme of his normal brash, crude language that had a nasty tone like he couldn’t bother giving people the time of day.
“Daddy, please,” The youngest whines, his little hand grasping at his father’s tattooed wrist as he gets to his knees to help his dad look.
“Left inner pocket,” YN murmurs offhandedly as she makes sure Cash gets to the playground safely with his friends.
“Say ‘thanks mama’,” Harry coos to his son as he manages to tug out the baby doll and hand it to the awaiting little boy.
“Thanks mama,” He replies instantly with a gapped smile as he nuzzles right back into his father’s side as if he can’t get close enough.
“How are you feeling, Ezra?” His mother leans over to ask, keeping the baby close to her chest.
“M’happy, mama,” Ezra replies simply before starting to babble to himself as he plays with the babydoll.
Kayla watches Harry and YN swap a fond look at their son but she couldn’t help but wonder why they asked him that? He seemed fine so why did they feel the need to do that?
The game is going okay, Harry stands up to cheer and whistle when Easton hits a two-base hit but YN smacks his thigh and motions to their sleeping baby.
He looks at her sheepishly before sitting back down, kissing her cheek in apology, and peeking down into the fleece blanket to watch his daughter sleep for a moment.
Then it seems like Easton starts to lose momentum after he pitches two home-runs, his face pinched in disappointment as the other team scores but Harry is attempting to keep him motivated with encouraging shouts.
Easton struggles from then on, he strikes out for his final three turns, doesn’t catch two pop-ups, and his pitches start to get a little shaky. It’s obvious in his facial expression he’s getting upset because he’s breathing heavier like he’s trying not to cry.
Kayla feels a sense of dread for the little boy, his father who’s the best baseball player in modern day history is watching his son not do well during an important game.
 Because of what she knows of him from his temper and attitude on the field - she worries that he’s one of those father’s who will hound their kid for doing poorly.
“Oh, c’mon East,” Harry murmurs softly when his son stumbles over a ground ball before another kid picks it up and throws it in - their son smacking his glove down against the ground in frustration.
“He’s getting himself worked up,” YN notes as she watches her oldest kick his cleats in the dirt with a quivering bottom lip.
“I know,” Harry replies to his wife, “Wish he wouldn’t, he’s gettin’ upset out there, I can tell.”
“Sad?” Ezra squeaks, clambering onto his father’s lap and stating, “Hold me, daddy.”
Harry obliges easily, gathering up his small son before his attention is directed back onto the game - it was down to the last few minutes and unfortunately Easton pitched a ball that resulted in a home run for the other team.
“Fuck,” Harry mutters, running a hand through his messy locks before he’s setting Ezra back down on the bleachers, “I’m going to go talk to him. Do you want to meet back home?”
YN nods, leaning down to tuck the baby into the double stroller before buckling Ezra in as well, “I’m going to go get Cash and head out. Why don’t you take him out for some ice cream? I love you.”
“I love you too, mama,” He replies, kissing her softly before kissing both of his kids foreheads and stepping down the bleachers - ignoring all the adults who are staring at him with a starstruck expression as he heads to the dugout.
It cleared out fast, nobody sticking around after the loss that ended with them not continuing on to the championship, and Easton was sat on the bench - he was stoic and there was a hard, angry expression on his face that reminded Kayla of what she saw Harry look like when he played.
As she gathers up her son and makes sure he’s got all of his equipment, Kayla stands and chats to a few of the moms before she’s heading to her car - which happened to be parked next to a sleek Masserati crossover, who would let their muddy kid go in there? Rich people, she guesses.***
Kayla pops the trunk to her van with her key as they get closer, she notices that Harry also has his up and Easton is sitting on the tailgate with his eyes looking down at the pavement. She tries not to appear as nosey or eavesdropping as she tucks her items into the back.
“Sweetheart, s’okay. Y’did so so good tonight,” Harry assures his pouty son, he squats down to start to untie his son’s nike cleats but continues to make eye contact with him. 
“No, I didn’t, Daddy!” Easton whines, tears finally starting to bubble over the surface as he begins to sob with a shuddering chest, “I gave up home runs and then I missed ground balls!”
“Whoa, bubby,” Harry simpers after he tugs off the shoes and throws them carelessly into the back before standing up, “Y’did amazing, are you kiddin’? You did three innings of strikeouts, hit two of y’own homeruns. Y’played like a professional, way better than daddy.”
Kayla’s heart aches a bit when she sees Harry sit down next to him before hugging him harshly into his side, thumbing at the tears that are running down his son’s sweaty cheeks with soft reassurances.
“Daddy, are you mad I didn’t win?” Easton asks shakily, keeping his head buried into his father’s side and his small hand clutching into the fabric of his hoodie.
Harry chuckles lowly, “Daddy would never be mad at you f’anythin’, definitely not a baseball game. Remember what mama and I said? If at any point y’want to stop playin’, just let us know and we can find something else, yeah? Just like how Ezzie does art classes.”
Easton seems to calm down after a few moments of Harry rocking him and reassuring him of what an amazing son he is.
As Kayla drove away that night, her perspective on the all-star baseball player definitely changed. It was refreshing to see someone to not hold their child to an unreasonable expectation just like she thought Harry would.
--
The Campfire
Austin was the shortstop on the baseball team, he’d brought along his girlfriend, Chelsea, to the frat party to celebrate another win.
Everyone was in whispers that Harry was bringing his new girlfriend but nobody knew who she actually was because it was just a rumor.
It was surprising because Harry wasn’t a relationship kind-of man. He wasn’t into hookups much - always said he needed to focus on baseball.
Many of his teammates were envious of how many girls were constantly coming up to Harry at parties to flirt and try to get a dance in but he had always rejected them.
Harry had never showed interest in any of these girls at the parties, never seen him disappear upstairs with one or really entertain a conversation over a beer like they’d expect.
Chelsea pokes his shoulder and nods towards the entrance when Harry walks in with his arm around YN’s shoulder.
Most were in a little shock because they seemed like such an unlikely couple - YN had written some scathing articles about him and it was no secret he hadn’t been a fan of her.
“Holy shit, Harry’s dating YN?” Chelsea whispers to Austin as the group of party-goers cheer and whistle at the allstars appearance.
“Guess so,” Austin replies with a shrug, tugging Chelsea into the kitchen for a drink.
Later on that night, there’s a bonfire on one side of the backyard and a volleyball net on the other where a group was gathering to play.
Austin and Chelsea are on the opposing team of Harry and YN - she can’t help but watch them with curiosity because of what a surprise it is that they’re dating.
Even Austin has been watching because Harry’s acting in a way that he’s never seen throughout his time on the team with him.
Harry is just all over YN which was confusing how he went from not being remotely interested in the college girls to being a lovestruck puppy.
When she throws the ball up to serve, Harry reaches over and pinches her bum which makes her squeak and accidentally drop the ball which has him cackling as she glares at him.
As they change positions, he crowds up behind her, and massages her hips, leaning down to murmuring something in her ear.
She blushes wildly before smacking him off which has him laughing hard and kissing the back of her head before taking his position.
After Harry jumps and spikes the ball hard, earning them the winning point, YN turns around and wraps her arms around him to hug him tightly.
Harry wraps his arms around her shoulders, returning the hug before pulling back to kiss her lips in a soft peck.
Chelsea elbows Austin, “Who’s that and what did they do with Harry?”
Austin shakes his head, “I really don’t fucking know.”
The group migrates over to the fire as they might become cooler and the stars are high up in the sky, the fire flickering orange and yellow crackles of sparks.
Harry plops into a chair, pulling YN right onto his lap, and she wriggles until she’s comfortable. Chelsea notices him tap her thigh as if telling her to cut it out, too much motion right on his crotch.
Jake, one of his teammates, says in a teasing tone, “YN, I’m surprised to see you around these parts . I clearly remember a strongly worded article about how stupid frat parties are.”
YN takes it in stride, smiling as she replies, “And this party just proves my point.”
The group laughs easily, they enjoy YN’s sharp wit and comebacks as they get to know her. Austin can’t help but to notice how quiet Harry is.
Normally, he’s the life of the party, loud and making his presence known to everyone but not tonight. He has his chin propped on her shoulder and she’s cuddled back into his chest.
Austin can’t make out what Harry is saying but he’s constantly whispering in her ear and accentuating each time with a squeeze to her thighs.
“Are you guys official?” One of the teammates asked bluntly, a few beers deep by this point in the night.
Harry replies instantly, a possessive squeeze, “She’s mine and off the market, s’don’t even think about it.”
“Well I don’t think it matters because she’s turned down the whole baseball team by this point. I think everyone tried to ask her out at least once,” Steve jokes as the others agree.
“Tha’s m’girl,” Harry murmurs to her before teasing his friends,“Who’d want to go out with any you? You’re all dickheads.”
Everyone continues to joke around, it’s nearing midnight and that’s right about when Harry gets in his prime - like the party just started.
But not tonight.
YN’s eyes start to flutter shut as everyone banters and drinks around the fire, obviously not used to these late night parties.
“I better get this one t’bed,” Harry states after a few minutes, thumbing at YN’s cheekbone as she tries to stay awake.
“I’m okay,” She mumbles weakly, head still heavy against his shoulder.
“You’re coming back though, right?” Kyle asks expectantly, brows furrowed.
Harry shakes his head, “Nah, m’in for the night when she is.”
All the players look at him with a bit of a dumbfounded look, Steve shooting out, “Who knew you’d be so pussy whipped, Styles?”
Chelsea’s eyebrows raise at the crude comment, waiting with bated breath as Harry’s jaw clenches as it seems like he’s biting his tongue.
“Goodnight,” Harry says in a tone Austin has never heard before - agitated and almost…offended.
When Austin and Chelsea are sneaking up to his room for a late night hook-up, she overhears Harry and YN in his bedroom.
At first, she thinks they’re in an actual argument but as she listens to them - it’s not the kind of arguement she thought it was.
“You’re always the little spoon,” YN groans from behind the closed door.
Harry squawks, affronted before huffing back at her, “S’my favorite, please spoon me, darling?”
“You’re so fucking spoiled,” YN giggles as Chelsea assumes they move into a position where Harry’s the little spoon.
“Mm, I like feelin’ y’tits against my back, s’nice,” Harry hums with a boyish tone.
Chelsea doesn’t even realize she’s smiling until Austin drags her from her stupor. 
All she knew was that Harry Styles really really fancied that school reporter.
-=-=-=-=-=-
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lovexjoe · 2 years
Text
SAFE GUARD PART 2
part 1
“What was your surprise?” she interrupts his thoughts
He was happy she diverted his attention, cause his thoughts were full of filth. Her lips look so inviting. He could only imagine what they felt like against his. Her skin’s soft, left him wondering how soft her inner thighs were cause he just wants to devour every inch of her body. Watching her become weak under his touch. He mentally slaps himself. This isn’t you, Jack.
“Close your eyes and trust me”
He takes her hand, leads her to the balcony of his room. He tells her to stand still and give him a moment. She felt the soft breeze of the night, hit her skin. He searched his pockets for an item, her ears were curious as she heard it was a flick of a lighter.
“Okay open” Jack looks excited but nervous. He has never done this for anyone. But her reaction was everything to him. Mentally admitting that he was indeed falling for his best friend.
When Y/N opens her eyes, they begin to fill with tears. She couldn’t believe this. He did this for her? She was worthy of all of this? Jack had decorated the entire balcony with rose petals. A small table in the center, with a birthday cake, each chair had its own bouquet of roses placed on them with gold balloons tied to the back. He lifted the table cover to grab a small gift bag. She watches as he takes a black box out of the bag, she noticed a diamond heart necklace and she stands there clueless. Jack was known to be a thot. Did he have feelings for her? Did their friendship mean as much to him as it did to her? She knew SHE had feelings for him. But she can’t read him at all.
He walks behind her to put the necklace on. His lips close to her ears causing goosebumps to form. He clips the necklace in place, running his hands down her arms to her hands. He was being bold but god was he nervous as fuck.
“happy early birthday, princess” he places a kiss on her cheek and she immediately turns to look up at him. Her birthday was never a big celebration because her parents struggled with money. Urban and Jack’s family always lend a hand in celebrating her special day. Today he took the responsibility upon himself. He had the money now and he was going to show her what she’s worth.
“Jack seriously thank you so much. No one has ever done this for me. Your family have always gone out their way for me and Urban’s too.” She wraps her arms around him, pulling him in close and plays with the curls at the bottom of his neck. He felt her nails gently scratch the back of his neck and he’s trying hard not to brick up. She’s looking up at his lips, she was aching to feel his touch.
“Jack…..” Her being cross faded, urges her to make her thoughts come alive. Her lips lean towards his.
Holy fuck! she’s gonna kiss me
Oh my god what if he pushes me away?
Her lips reached his cheek. She couldn’t do it. The rejection afterwards would hurt too much.
“You’re the best, thank you.” She walks pass him to head back in the room, but she feels him grab her arm. He turns her to face him and his lips connected to hers. He just needed the signal that she felt the same and he was gonna cross the line. He was gonna cross so many lines tonight. She’s his tonight and he was gonna make sure of her it. Y/N moans into the kiss as she felt his tongue enters her mouth. His scent had her drunk. His big hands grabbing and smacking her ass causing a laugh to escape. They both make their way back in the room, kissing and fumbling to take each other’s clothes off. Her fingers start to unbutton his shirt. He looked so handsome in his white button up but she tossed that shit on the floor. Running her hands down his chest, noticing his chest hair for the first time. It wasn’t the full grizzly bear type thing, more like short and well groomed.
Jack pushed her back so she’s laying on the bed. He takes her heels off, kissing his way up her legs causing soft moans to escape her lips. Y/N has never done this before. It’s all so new. She didn’t want to say anything to ruin the moment. She couldn’t help but blurt it out as he hooks his fingers around her thong.
“Wait! I-I’m a virgin. Im sorry if you don’t want to do it anymore it’s okay I can go-“ she starts to ramble when she’s nervous
“Hey hey, baby. It’s okay. Do you want to do this or do you want to wait?” He looks into her eyes for consent because he can wait as long as she wants to. He wasn’t going to force her into anything.
“I want to. I trust you.” She pulls him in, kissing him as if it was the last time she’ll ever see him.
His fingers start to rub her clit. She didn’t notice her thong was even removed, her emotions were all over the place. She’s grips the bedsheets as he slowly slips a finger inside her. Fuck, just seeing her like this was enough to make him cum. He felt her wetness coat his finger. Her tightness gripped him as he moves in and out.
“Uhh fuck!” Her cheeks flush as he adds another finger. Her hips move into his fingers, he took it as a signal and went faster. Her moans were so sexy. Tonight was about her. Them.
Just as he was about take her bra off, there was a loud knock on the door.
“Yo Jack! Y/N! The hell are you two doing? It’s Y/N’s birthday come downstairs” Druski yells.
They both looked at each other, totally forgetting there was a party downstairs. Jack looks down at his watch it was 12:01AM exactly Y/N’s birthday. The two scrambled for their clothes. They tried to make themselves look presentable as they head back downstairs to the party. Y/N just got finger fucked by her best friend…..
Jack holds her hand as they both reach the living room. Everyone showers Y/N with birthday wishes, along with gifts and a cake. Jack stepped back and chilled with Urban in the kitchen. He let her enjoyed her moment. Her heart was so full of happiness until she heard in the distance.
“Jack! Baby I’m so sorry I’m late! My flight was delayed.” A brunette girl runs up to Jack and places a kiss on his lips. The same lips she was just kissing…..
HE HAS A FUCKING GIRLFRIEND ?!
Let me know if you guys want Part 3!
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mrpenguinpants · 3 years
Text
Spider’s Thread [Reverse AU]
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Possessive Red Xiao x Reader
Word Count: 2.5k
Commissioned for: @profoundwitchsalad
Art Credit: @ruoyeahs
Warning: Unhealthy relationships.
Prompt:
“You’ve ruined my life because I have a warped idea of what love is and I can’t live without you. But now you’re trying to leave me and I won’t allow that. You left me alive. You have a duty to live for me and by me. I’m not letting you go.”
---
Xiao Semi Series
[ Friendship ] [ Falling in Love ] [ Cuddles ] [ Protective ] [ Affection ] [ Jealously ] [ Opposites Attract ] [ String Of Fate (Soulmate) ] [ Fainting ]
Link to original posts:  [Red! Xiao.] [Reverse AU]
[Masterlist]
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Alatus was once told a story by his Master. A sinner who falls into hell is rewarded for his only good deed, choosing not to kill a spider. As his reward, a thread is lowered down for him to climb out of Hell. In the end, the sinner remains in Hell because he kicks aside others and the thread breaks. Alatus doesn't remember why his Master told him this story but he still empathizes with the sinner. He would have done the same or asked for this 'saviour' to extend their hand down instead. That way he could pull them down.
"Xiao? Are you okay?"
He slowly opens his jade eyes to see you hunch over, peering down above him, eyebrows furrowed together in concern as you reach down and softly tap his temple. He allows you to take a moment to do whatever you want with his face before he reaches up to grasp at your wrist gently, holding back on his want to rub circles into your skin. His reminiscing can wait for now.
"What is it?" he asks curtly, sitting up and resting his elbow on his raised knee. You pout at his curt tone but shrug it off as you take a seat next to him and lean your shoulder against his. You dig into your bag and pull out slips of commission papers and hand it over to him to read through what needed to be done today. A few Hilichurl camps needed to be taken care of, sabotaging a slime balloon, all tasks that seem mundane to someone who fought in a war. As he's preoccupied, you take a moment to look at Xiao's face. He's just the slightest bit unnerved whenever you do this because you always seem to know what's bothering someone.
"Were you dreaming of her again?" you ask quietly. The silence is a good enough answer but you nod understandingly. You never knew his Master personally but you did fight a long strenuous battle against her. From one look you could tell she was a manipulative and cruel woman. While it may not be very kind to say, you were glad that with her passing, Xiao would be free from her physically. But mentally...there were still some things to work out. But Xiao was a very reclusive person, especially with his emotions, so pushing him any further would only make him irritated and closed off.
"Venti and Zhongli are joining our party for a bit if that’s alright. They'll help out a lot with our commissions and travelling. I like Liyue a lot but climbing mountains stresses my shoulders out," you laugh as you change the subject to something less depressing. Standing up as you dust your clothes off before turning to Xiao and holding your hand out for him to take. He stares at it hard for a few moments before huffing and reaching over to clasp your hands together.
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It has been so frustratingly peaceful since the war ended. He's not used to it and he can still feel the lick of cutting winds and the heavy pressure of rocks against his body when he sees the bard and funeral parlor consultant just on the horizon. If it were up to him, he wouldn't play nice with these two Archons but they're important to you so he bites his tongue until he tastes blood. He knows the Archons do the same. As soon as the two of them spot you both, Venti is already rushing and tackling you to the ground in his excitement.
"Traveler! I haven't seen you in ages. You need to come and visit Mondstadt more," Venti cried into your shoulder as you awkwardly patted him on his back. Always with the dramatics but you cared about Venti all the same. Xiao scoffed before flicking his jade eyes to meet gold as Zhongli stared down at him cautiously. Since the war ended, everyone seemed to have this warped idea that Alatus had some vendetta against the Gods and Celestia but he was fighting because he was told to.
"Xiao. It's good to see you again," Zhongli said to him. Xiao just nodded in acknowledgement. Even with this new mortal form, Morax never bothered to change his eyes. His gaze alone held the weight of the mountains he had thrown. If Xiao hadn’t been under one of them before, he might have crumbled under the pressure.
"Alright alright, Venti. I promise I'll drop by sometime this month but we still have commissions to do!" you laugh as you haul the bard onto his feet and swat his cape down from the speckles of dirt. He grins cheekily at you, linking pinkies with you to seal your promise, before suddenly lighting up as if he just remembered something.
"Actually! Before we start anything, I need to speak to Mr. Zhongli and Xiao. Super important archon things, you know?" Venti nodded to himself as the two mentioned people stared at him with varying levels of confusion. But Venti just waved their worries off and linked his arms with both men as he dragged them off to a more secluded corner with a surprising amount of strength, “We’ll be right back!”
"Do what you need to do but don't take too long," you called after the trio as you trailed off to the side, messing with your bag of commission papers and gear. Xiao hated that. He knows that these two Archons are your...friends.. but shouldn't you be a bit more cautious? Just because they have mortal forms doesn’t make them human, it doesn’t make him human either.
"Hey, there's no need to look so scary. There really is something important I wanted to talk to the two of you about," Venti speaks up as soon as you're out of earshot. It still gives Xiao whiplash whenever he drops the persona and switches back to Barbatos. "Since Morax is the only Archon I trust with this information and, while I don't trust you one bit, you're the one that's with her all the time you should also know. She's ascending to Celestia."
Barbatos gauges both of their reactions. Morax seems visibly surprised, his eyes slightly widened a fraction, while Xiao has no idea what that means. His Master didn’t exactly give him a history lesson on Celestia or Archons, just pointed to who was his enemy and dealt punishments when he failed.
"And what the hell does that mean?" Xiao asks as he crosses his arms. Venti appears for a second as the bard pouts before continuing.
"It's like I said. A mortal who performs great, heroic feats can ascend to Celestia and achieve godhood. Where they will watch over their people from above. I've only seen this once before so it took me a while to recognize the signs. But 1000 years ago, I helped a woman named Vennessa with her ascension and with the traveler's recent actions with winning the war. Well, you don't need me to explain the rest," Barbatos finishes. Zhongli simply hums as he cups his chin and absorbs what's just been heard. He doesn’t seem troubled by the news at all.
"Have you told her about this?" Zhongli questions as he looks towards the direction that you left. Venti shakes his head. “That would mean that she would vanish from this world."
“I know she loves this world. Whether she wishes to ascend or not isn’t my choice but I want her to continue her travels with that beloved smile on her face. But if she does choose to ascend, she will need our help," Venti stares at the two of them in a mix of pride, sadness, and determination. "Can I count on you two for your help?"
It's a complete white noise in Xiao's ears as his surroundings fade out. He thinks he can see Zhongli nod to Venti wishes, the ever calm smile on his face to match the cheery grin on Venti’s. What, now you want to become a God? Leave this world behind? That’s not funny. You made him give up everything. While in your eyes, your blinded hero syndrome, you think you've liberated him from a soulless conquest but he still has nothing. You still took everything away from him and your only compensation was to have him by your side until he left himself. But now you want to leave without a warning? That’s not fair. You don’t get to take back what you owe. He won't allow you to leave him behind.
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“Did something happen? Did Venti say something unnecessary again?” you ask out of the blue. Zhongli and Venti had returned to their respective regions once your commissions were all finished. Since the three of them disappeared to talk Archon business, Xiao had seemed even more tense and aloof than usual. As if he was out of it? You knew that everyone was still suspicious of Xiao and they were angsty to leave you alone with him, but you knew Xiao would never do anything to hurt you. When he doesn't answer, you slowly reach over and you subtly nudge his head up onto your lap and look at him curiously. Before reaching down and cupping his cheek. He leans into your touch before turning his face into your palm and leaving a soft kiss. It makes you giggle at the ticklish feeling as you look at him so softly. It annoys him.
"You were never connected to the war and yet you fought against us anyways. Even when I killed so many people, why did you choose to spare me?" he asked as you blinked at him before giving it some serious thought. He went on a rampage and almost destroyed the world. It was fun. He doesn't have any regrets at all because he hated humanity. His own Master was human after all. But then you appeared and stopped him. A random outsider that wanted to play the hero. He thought it was cute. Perhaps he had underestimated the lengths someone would go to to save the world they loved but when he fell defeated at your feet. He said that this wouldn't change a single thing. He would still scorn humanity and what they did to him. He was so sure he would die there but you chose to extend your hand down to him instead despite what your companions felt. Even when the war ended and he had nowhere else to go, you offered him to travel with you. Nothing changed about his mentality, every person that chose to talk to him was quickly scared away with piercing eyes. Every conversation started would end in silence. Every touch would be met by the tip of his spear. But you would link your hands together with his and smile brightly, and he would always end up forgetting his trauma for a moment. You’ve... become precious to him.
"I love this world and everyone in it. You are a part of that world even if you tried to destroy it. It...didn't seem fair to leave you behind when you've suffered just as much," you finish but it only seemed to spark a wave of deep anger inside of Xiao. He quickly lurched up, almost knocking your forehead with his, before grabbing the scruff of your shirt collar and yanking you forward.
"Cut it out with that "love of everything" crap. It's revolting. So you're saying the people I killed weren't worth avenging? Do you think I'm so weak that I need protection? It's one thing to try and please everyone but at least have some awareness would you?" he snarled as he pushed you to the ground. He knew he was being harsh on you and you had every right to walk out and abandon him but you didn't. Of course, you wouldn't. You needed him as much as he needed you. You just reached over and tenderly reached your hand and placed it next to his. Damn it, why is he always the one stuck worrying about you.
"Then you want to protect me, right? Then don't break your promise. You left me alive which means you have a duty to live for me," he takes your hand in his and squeezes hard. Digging his nails into your own until crescents appear and tiny specks of blood appear so you know he's serious. He doesn't care how you interpret his words, just so long as you never leave him.
"Don't die on me, Hero."
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It's been a few hours since the conversation so it's pitch black outside but Xiao was never one to sleep. Even if he could, his mind is too loud to fall asleep too. He's startled when you melt against him fully asleep. Honey smooth as you curl up to his warmth and cling to him like moss to a rock. He can feel his cheeks start to flush as his heart begins to pound against his chest. He can't breathe as his world is filtered through each beat that drums against his ears. He's not sure if there's actually something wrong with him or if it's just been a while since someone got so close and his instincts haven't left.
He's just realized it. He's feeling pain. The feeling in his chest is black but he can't claw it away. It's strange in a way that he can't explain it, that he's never felt before, that he's never felt the need to experience. His life had been warped by battle and a constant push to submit to his Master. They are all things he knows but the gentle words that come from your mouth, the bright eyes that hold the world, the horrible ice-hot feeling inside of him is so foreign yet too easy. He doesn't like it.
It makes him feel...clean in a way. Enlightened perhaps? His Master is long gone and it's like you said. He's free now. Free to make his own decisions and live his life how he wants to. He carefully turns over so as to not startle you away as he really looks at you. You look so peaceful in his arms, eyelids shut without worry, face slack without nightmares, breathing so softly against him. If you weren't so close to him that he couldn't feel the rise of your chest, he wonders if he would think you were dead. He stares at the lock of hair swaying back and forth with each breath like a starved man. The strange feeling doesn't stop. He hates it. It's everything that goes against him and what he knows and everything he should want. He's supposed to be the villain in your story, he should kill you right now-
"Xiao..." he hears you mumble beside him as you lean further into his arm. Damn it. How low is he going to go?
“What are you thinking about now? You just need to think about me. Don’t think about anything else...but me” Xiao sighs before he wraps his arms around you and pulls you into him until you're snug against his chest. Close to him, where he can touch you, where you belong. Not with Morax or Barbatos. Not with humans but beside him. He closes his eyes and nuzzles his head into your hair and he stares off into the distance. The feeling never leaves him for the remainder of the night.
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"Ah! There you are. I was running around crazy looking for you," he turns his hair to see your flushed form pulling yourself up onto the mountain cliff, "When I woke up I couldn’t find you anywhere! You gave me a scare there."
He hates you. He hates you.
Words of his previous master ring in his ears, almost as if her very soul is wrapping around him as she whispers in his ear how weak he is. Ones with power that refuse to take what they want because they rather live in the comfort of nothing. Be greedier, take what belongs to you.
"Xiao?" you say as his piercing eyes stare directly through you. His Master always told him that she loved him. Even if he hated her he still clung to that false love. Of being wanted. Isn't love for a single person vile? Would feeling such emotions for one person instead of "everyone" bring you down to reality? It's not fair that you've crawled your way into his heart while you walk along in bliss. Now that he thinks about it. It was so simple. He just needs to monopolize your thoughts and love. This time it won't be as friends.
"I love you."
He'll pull you down to where he is. You extended your hand down to hell so it's your fault. He'll drag you down kicking and screaming if he has to. You left him alive. You have to live for him and by him. He's not letting go.
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thesunicarusfellfor · 3 years
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Hello my beloved! ( Can I call you that? And people it's platonic!) I have an idea and this is for pogtopia wilbur and ghostbur! Can you do a reader who loves painting and one morning they find a picture of them with a note about the reader confessing to then but they didn't do it in person because they were really nervous? Thank you!
And please take as much time as you want also could it be a long story? Thank you!
- Your beloved Moosh 🥺
Moosh, darling! Hello! Yes, you have my full permission to call me that, thank you for asking! This is the third time I've written this story because Tumblr just really enjoys screwing me over...
Also. You never clarified whether you wanted fluff or angst, but it's Pogtopia Wilby so I kinda just went with angst? If you want a happy end to this, I'll rewrite this no problem! But it won't be as long because... Well, you'll see. Also also, I didn't exactly know where to throw the Ghosty Bur in, so... Yeaaaah? He's at the end tho!
THE FIRST PART IS LIKE NEW NEW POGTOPIA WILBUR
TW: (Sorry it didn't save the first time) C!Schlatt, bruising, threatened hanging, self doubt
Perfect Picture of Imperfection (Pogtopia!C!Wilbur x GN!Painter!Reader)
Maybe you painted Schlatt's horns the wrong colour? Or his jawline was off? He was furious when you finally showed him your art piece... It was the best you could do with the few hours you were given! Paint physically couldn’t dry as fast as Schlatt wanted it to you… He didn’t seem to care when he threw the wooden frame of the torn canvas at you, giving you a dark bruise right above your eye, or when he started yelling at you and threatening to burn your art studio down to the ground.
Or even when he grabbed you and suggested to Quackity to hang you at the gallows for insulting the emperor of Manberg.
The man you had once been friends with grinned widely and nodded happily, “Yes, sir! Yes, sir!” He said, without a single care that you were a living human being, only giving a cheer as he picked you up so your feet were dangling on the ground, leaving you silent in terror. Tubbo only averted his gaze.
“Aww… You’re like a little fawn, caught in the torchlight of a traveller.” The ram hybrid smiled in a sickly sweet manner, causing the colour to drain from your face, “Come now, darling, I’m not a monster… You’re the only one of Wilbur’s sweet little subjects that he hasn’t gotten back, and here I thought you were his favourite… Or maybe he left you here to act as a sacrifice so they could all be off doing their own thing... Guess he prefers Niki over you…” He whispered as he dropped you, chuckling softly as you scurried out of the building as you quite literally ran for your life.
You called Wilbur when you were safely hidden in your house, gasps and sobs leaving your mouth quicker than tears could pool out of your eyes…
“(Y/n)... You can’t be calling me when-”
“Wil…?” You whispered into the communicator, your voice shaking enough to shut him up immediately, “He… He’s going to…” Hiccuping meekly, you curled in tighter on yourself as you heard Schlatt’s loud and pompous voice come over the speaker system he had hung up all around the once beautiful country, “I think I’m going to die here…”
The dead silence that followed through the line was sickening…
“Is it true…?” You couldn’t help but find yourself wondering aloud, “Is that why I’m the only one left here? Am I a sacrifice so you can live happily elsewhere? ...Is that why you haven’t come to get me?”
“(Y/n), I want you to never utter those words again.” His voice was dark and steely as there was a bit of crashing around that came from the other side as well as faint mumbles which were clearly from Tommy judging by all the swearing, “You are not a sacrifice. Now... Get your Enderchest and Inventory packed up, I’m coming to get you tonight, and then I’ll explain in person…”
The line cut off and you slowly lowered the communicator down from beside your ear. Your heart was sinking one minute, but soaring the next… A terrible feeling really. You were saved! But… He could get caught trying to come to get you… You couldn’t let that happen for sure. With a heavy sigh, you rubbed your eyes free of tears before standing up and beginning to shove any necessary equipment into your Enderchest, including your finished painting of Wilbur that you were going to give to him when he won the election… And finally, confess your feelings…
When midnight hit and the lights of the city finally died down, you climbed up onto your roof and looked around for the president, fear and paranoia flooding through your veins as your mind went wild. What if he got caught? What if he was trying to give you false hope? What if. What if. What if. These sort of questions buzzed around in your mind for an hour as you waited for your saviour to arrive…
Finally, when enough became enough and you decided he wasn’t coming, you stopped pacing and slowly sat down on the roof as the tears began to start again. You could practically hear Schlatt chiding you in the back of your mind, telling you that you were a fool for holding out hope.
“(Y/n)!” A low hiss came from beside you and a hand touched your shoulder. You certainly would’ve screamed bloody murder if another hand hadn’t quickly wrapped around your mouth, “Sh, sh, sh, it’s me… It’s Wilbur.” The voice soothed softly as the hand left your mouth, quickly allowing you to turn your head.
It didn’t feel real… Seeing him after so long… And in an outfit other than his uniform. “Wil...bur?” You repeated, staring at him for a while before giving him a soft smile filled with relief, “You really came…”
“Of course I did!” He almost seemed offended for a moment before his eyes softened as he realized what Schlatt must’ve drilled into your head. Wilbur easily caught you as you flung your self at him, quickly wrapping his arms around you and burying his face in your (h/l) (h/c) hair, “I missed my artiste…” He whispered, donning a temporary french accent for the word ‘artist’.
Holding back a sob, you quickly grabbed his extended hand and followed him as he jumped off your roof, safely landing in a bed of hay that you used to feed your old farm animals that Schlatt confiscated before following him out of this damned country.
After that, things seemed to change between you and Wilbur. He always seemed to be at your side, choosing to personally train you rather than letting Techno train you with everyone else, or even running over ideas on how to expand Pogtopia with you rather than with Tommy. His touches always lingered longer or he somehow wound up leaning closer to you than originally necessary, but you never caught yourself complaining. He would watch you paint beautiful designs along the armour he had gifted you, knowing full well it would chip off and was heavily unnecessary, but he only smiled and let you continue doing it as long as it didn’t interfere with enchantments.
Each day with Wilbur became better and better, but your heart physically couldn’t take it any longer, you had to tell him that you felt this way for him… The way that you had to fight back the reddening of your cheeks when his chest pressed against your back as he adjusted your stance in training, or the way you had to struggle to regulate your breathing every time he complimented you on how far you had come…
He was going to be the death of you…
Your already calloused hands were bruised and blistered, but somehow, you were still able to hold a quill, pinched in between the fingers of your dominant hand. Wilbur had come to your Pogtopia home this morning, but upon realizing that he had knocked you to the ground a little too hard yesterday as you were incredibly stiff and sore, he let you have the day off of training.
This was at least a little chance… You had torn a page from your notebook and sat down at your handmade desk with a bitter sigh. Trust me, you wanted to tell him in person, but you were just too scared… Plus, maybe you could play it off as someone pulling a prank on him if it went south.
Biting your lip, your fingers treated the quill as a brush, delicately running the ink dipped tip over the top of the paper, letting your heart control what words you wanted the ink to form.
Wilbur,
You don't realize how much you mean to me. Although we've been friends for only a year, I feel as though I've known you my entire life. My connection to you is already so deep, and my love for you is already so strong that I can't remember what my life was like before we met. Even more, I can't imagine my life without you now. I can't imagine the future without you, either.
You have saved my life several times already. You have even saved me from myself several times, too! I am so thankful for your guidance and care. Whenever I'm having a bad day, I know that I can just give you a call. I know I can depend on you and, with your help, everything will turn out well.
I want you to know how I really feel. It's time for you to know that I'm ready to admit how much I care for you, how much you mean to me. I know, this isn’t the best timing in our lives, but I trust it will get better through your leadership. I love you, Wilbur.
Please, don't ever forget how much I love you.
Love, (Y/n) (L/n)
Sighing, you put the quill into the inkpot and put your head in your bandaged hands. ‘This is going to work. It will work. Go on. Have faith in yourself, as Wil said…’ You took a few deep breaths and stood up, picking up the letter once it was dry and reading it over as many times as you physically could before your mind couldn’t handle it any longer.
Walking to the door, you cracked it open to search for any sign of your president, sighing again as you realized he was likely out helping gather resources. “Is… This enough?” You mumbled sadly as you stared down at the simple letter before looking at your Enderchest in thought. Surely you could give him a few emeralds or some gold… Yeah! That’s what you’d do! Smiling in victory, you quickly wandered over to the chest and opened it, digging through it for a few moments.
It was sort of empty…
You groaned as you remembered that you haven’t really been one of the miners or forgers for Pogtopia. Instead, you were one of the warriors, focused on protecting others instead of gathering supplies.
Going to shut the chest, you suddenly paused as you saw something colourful resting at the bottom. Pushing aside your old L’Manberg uniform, you gasped as you found your old painting of Wilbur from a few months ago. It was old, yes, and a little dusty but you were still proud of it even now! Perfect.
Pulling out the painting, you began to lightly brush the dust off of the picture, smiling at the splashes of paint and colour forming a picture. It was your magnum opus.
It was a painting of Wilbur holding up a massive L’Manberg flag against the sunlight with a wide smile and hope in his eyes… This was the day that L’Manberg won independence from DreamSMP…
Standing up again, you quickly hurried out the door and walked to Wilbur’s room, silently creaking open the door and looking around, even though you were well aware that he was gone for the day. You walked over to his desk and gently setting the painting down on top of the countless sheets of work, making sure not to mix up any of the papers, then putting your letter on top where he could see it before hurrying out before you could change your mind.
Thankfully you got out when you did because, by the time you pulled an already baked potato out of the furnace, Wilbur came down the stone stairs, looking extremely exhausted, “(Y/n), my artiste…” He murmured with a smile, “I’m glad to see you’re still up and going… I was worried we would have to make you a healing pot.”
“It’s not too bad… It’s mostly just my hands that hurt.” You chuckled and held up your shaking bandaged hands, “You want me to cook you up some potatoes and carrots? Or I could maybe try and get some steak cooked up before you go to work?”
Wilbur tried to smile a bit, deciding not to question why your hands were shaking so badly, taking everything out of his inventory and placing them in their designated chests. “No, no… It’s alright. I’m going to go get ready for Tubbo’s report… I’ll see you later tonight, okay?”
You gave him a small wave before Wilbur disappeared into his office. Taking a sharp intake of breath, you quickly followed after him and peeked through the tiny crack in the door where he didn’t close it all the way. He stood in his room silently for a moment before throwing his hat off at a wall, screaming into hands, muffling it heavily to the point where you wouldn’t have heard it if you were still near the furnaces. Wilbur threw off his jacket before plopping himself into his chair with his head in his hands for a few moments, then lifting it to stare at the painting that you had placed.
He was still for a long time, then he slowly picked up the note, his eyes softened slightly before his face broke out into a wide and genuinely happy smile before his mouth twitched and the smile began to fall, tears bubbling into his chocolate coloured eyes. Wilbur held the note up to his chest and slouched back against his chair, sobbing into his hand, whispering ‘I’m so sorry’ repeatedly.
Frowning, you realized that he physically couldn’t return your love because of the stress of caring for Pogtopia and trying to win back L’Manberg. With a sad smile, you stood up and walked to your room, putting your head down as you saw water droplets hit the stone below you, “It wasn’t a no…” You tried to tell yourself, ignoring the tears running from your eyes as you shut the door, sliding down to your knees.
The next few weeks after that were hell, the complete opposite of the Utopia that you were blinded by for the past month. Wilbur asked Techno to pick up your training, and he never even spoke to you about it again… It was the Piglin hybrid that awkwardly told you. During dinner, Wilbur would practically eat as little as possible as he ignored you, trying to make any situation where he would be in the same room as you as short as possible.
“Wil-...” You reached out to the president but watched as he only gave you the saddest gaze before walking past you as if he never saw you. But he would have no problems talking to Niki, or anyone else! It wasn’t fair!
Time ticked by in a haze of fog and you quickly watched the man you had once fallen in love with becoming a complete shadow of his former self… It was sickening… He… Lost it… His mind was becoming twisted… And all you could do was watch in horror…
You knew something was wrong when he crept away from the festival and the celebration… But you just decided that he was going to take a break from the excitement. He was quite old after all…
Then the ground shook with booming roars as TNT blew craters into the earth, sending debris scattering and people screaming, scattering for their lives. Gasps of terror escaped your lips as you realized the cause of it all… You hopped over gunpowder scented broken stone and batted the smoke away as you saw the final picture to paint the last stroke of horror in your heart.
There was a blond man with massive avian wings holding a diamond sword glimmering with enchantments as the brunet clung to his clothing, slowly sinking to his knees. With a sob of despair, you watched the man you once loved so dearly, get stabbed through the chest by his own father.
“WILBUR!” You shrieked, your ears ringing from the blast as you sunk to your knees, sobs racking your frame violently. Wilbur’s head lazily rolled to look in your direction…
And in his last dying breath… He smiled…
-
“That painting…” A light airy whisper echoed through the darkened stone halls of your home, “It’s familiar… Yet so foreign...”
You gave a hum as you hung your netherite armour on your stand before turning to stare at the spectral figure floating in your doorway, “Which painting, Ghostbur? There’s many… You have to elaborate.”
“Right! Because you’re an artiste!” The transparent male chirped happily, not seeming to notice your flinch, “I mean the one hanging above the fireplace, of Alivebur.”
“Right…” You nodded, following behind the eager sweater-wearing ghost down the eerie hallways and into the office, "I'm going to take it down... I think it's doing more harm than good..."
Ghostbur didn't seem to understand your reasoning, but he didn't say much, knowing that Alivebur hurt many people... But he didn't think he hurt you, "It's pretty though... But your art style has changed, in a good way though!" He smiled softly as you opened the large dark oak double doors.
You walked past your grand dark oak desk to stare at your former magnum opus, dangling above the unlit fireplace. "Hey, Bur, if you have a flint and steel, could you light the fire please?" You glanced over and watched him nod as he dug through his pockets. In the meantime, you climbed up onto the mantle and began to struggle to pull the canvas off the wall. With a bit of hassle, you managed to pull it down and toss it onto the ground before climbing down, just in time for your ghost friend to light the fire.
"Don't damage it, (N/n)! It's still really good!" Ghostbur scolded you with a pout once you hopped down and picked the canvas up, "And you used to be proud of it!"
"I'm not, don't fret too m-" You paused mid-sentence as you saw a letter tucked into the bottom corner of the back of the painting. Frowning in confusion, you slowly picked it up and turned it over into your hand, only to discover that it was addressed to you in fancy cursive, sealed with a light red and white wax seal, "What's this?"
He looked over at you and tilted his head, seeming almost as genuinely confused as you were. Ghostbur shrugged as you propped the painting up against the wall before sitting at your desk, using your letter opener for its purpose, "Love letter, perhaps?"
"I doubt it..." You mumbled softly as you carefully unfolded the paper, recognizing that it was probably a few years old, "Let's see... Who wrote this..." You hummed before beginning to read.
My darling artiste... I'm sure by the time you read this, I'm either dead or... Well, most likely dead, if all goes to plan...
I am writing this letter to you to let you know that life without you is not the same. Life without you is very sad and lonely. I have realised that it was you who keep me alive and cheerful.
I thought I would get used to your absence from my life, but every day has been harder when I think of all the good times we spent together.
There are so many things which I want to confess. It's killing me because I don't want you to go another day without knowing how I feel about you.
And I'm not able to tell you I'm in love with you.
What an idiot I am.
And for the past few days, I've been trying to figure out, why there aren't some words to describe it. I want to tell you exactly how I feel but there isn't a single goddamned word in the entire dictionary that can describe my love for you.
But I need that word. I need it because I want you to hear me say “I love You". I want to make the sweetest gestures in front of you which make you feel even more loved.
Trust me... I know... I act like an absolute ass towards you. I'm so scared of your life being in more danger than it was... I really did love you, and still do, but I didn't want it to hurt you more when I blow up L'Manberg...
Darling, I could have simply called you on your communicator and took you out on a surprise date but I couldn't have expressed my feelings. You have become an integral part of me. I want to give you all my love throughout my life.
The painting you made me is beautiful and I will cherish it for as long as I'm alive... It's a perfect picture of imperfection...
I Love You, (Y/n), even if by now you'll never love me back.
- Wilbur Soot
"That... That idiot..." You whispered, holding your head in your hands in an attempt to hide the tears from Ghostbur, "He planned blowing up L'Manberg from the beginning... That's why he refused to acknowledge me after I... He wanted me to hate him..."
Ghostbur held a bit of blue in his hands tightly, avoiding your gaze as you murmured to yourself, "Yeah... Most of my happiest memories involve you... That's why I couldn't understand when you said Aliverbur hated you..." He glanced away again as he saw you look at him.
"(Y/n)... Are you ever going to move out of Pogtopia?"
"Probably not for a long time, Ghostbur."
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hansolmates · 3 years
Text
one more time (m)
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pairing; (former) popular!jk x (former) normie!reader summary; it’s been two years since you’ve seen your former tryst jeon jungkook. you didn’t expect him to be applying for the internship you’re currently running, along with the rate your heart is running at the sight of him in a black suit. genre/warnings; self-deprecating language, your typical (future) co-workers!au, jungkook is a piner and so is oc, a lil bit of sneaking around, adulting, a mutual understanding of feelings (finally!!) smut in the form of—soft n’ dirty baybee, unprotected, cockwarming, overstimulation, minor praise and possession kink, cumplay, &you know that they gon have heart eyes the entire time w.c; 7.3k a/n; darn why am i so... emotional over this??? it started out as a meaningless drabble series but with all my lovely readers and moots it’s grown into such a fun, introspective series. thank u for loving this and joining me on this journey. for those of u who are new to this series feel free to read popular-ish first or as a standalone! [popular-ish masterlist]
if you’ve enjoyed this (whether as a standalone or as a series) please consider giving it a like and a share✨✨✨✨✨
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“A mess, I’m a mess,” you sing-song to yourself, organizing the manuals on the clear glass by subject and size. The applications of all your new interns are alphabetized, not a form out of place. Everything’s perfect. “Alright Jessica, all twenty of the interns are accounted for.” 
“Actually, there’s twenty-three,” Jessica quips, and you let your shoulders slump. Being part of the recruiting team of your company has been simultaneously exciting and stressful. Stressful because of the constant travel, but otherwise exciting because you loved your internship at your current company. You remember how nervous you were two years ago, and how much support and help you got from your recruiters. Applying to this team was a natural turn of events. 
“A-are you sure, Jess?” you look through all the applications, count the amount of nametags, triple check the chairs. You’re sweating through your blazer, wondering where you went wrong. 
The head of your recruiting team glues one hand to her hip, while the other hand is holding her iPad, scrolling with her thumb. You swallow, intimidated by Jessica’s golden wavy locks and her black-trimmed white Chanel pantsuit. 
“Yep, but don’t be too hard on yourself. I just added three more recruits last night. I’ll get the chairs and the apps are being printed. No worries,” Jessica assures, gesturing for you to hurry up and get outside, “Call the babies in!” your team leader waves her finger around like a magic wand, commanding you to the front lines. 
Krystal puts a hand on her shoulder, as always looking impeccable. She has virtually nothing to worry about. She’s a woman who has connections, courtesy of her team leader. “Let’s go, newbie,” she teases, pulling you through the door. 
The recruits in the lobby are wide-eyed and vibrant, and you feel a little nostalgic as you watch them line up in front of you and Krystal as you sign them in. You would dwell on the feeling more if it wasn’t for your exhaustion, so you decide you’ll get a chance to take a road down memory lane when you get to the hotel. 
“Name?” 
“Xu Minghao.” 
“Congrats Minghao, here’s your nametag and I’ll see you inside,” with a firm handshake, one recruiter is free to go. 
“Name?” 
“Chou Tzuyu.” 
“Congrats Tzuyu, here’s your name tag and I’ll see you inside,” she doesn’t go in straight away, and moves to the side of the door. “Actually,” you pause mid-handshake with another recruit, staring at the woman in curiosity, “my boyfriend just got a call last night that he was accepted in this year’s batch. Do you have his name?” 
“Yes, three more recruits were added,” you chirp, as if you totally did not hear that bit of information five minutes ago, “What’s his name—Jungkook?” 
The both of you blink at each other. One hand on Tzuyu’s shoulder, eyes wide and mirroring yours. Your heart falls straight to your stomach, wanting to be eaten by acids and bacteria so you can stop any possibility of feeling any lingering affection for the boy you fooled around with in undergrad. Everything about him screams professional. He’s clean cut, a pinstripe black suit you never thought he’d own, and his hair is neatly trimmed and pulled behind his ears. His shoulders look tall and broad under the slight padding, his biceps comfortably stretching against the dark fabric. The golden complexion remains the same however, from the honest brown eyes to the coral pink lips that would always smile at you. 
“Oh, so you do have his name!” Tzuyu clasps her hands together, delighted. He has a girlfriend, too. It’s then you realize you’ll be stuck with not just him, but her for the week. “You guys are so efficient. C’mon Kookie, let’s find some seats!” 
“I still gotta get my nametag,” he replies goodnaturedly, gesturing to you, “save us some seats in the front?” 
Tzuyu thinks nothing of it, squeezing his bicep before skipping off to the front row. Your eyes linger on her form, and it’s only then you realize how tall and intimidatingly pretty she looks in that plaid teddy bear brown skirt suit. You did not look that good when you were a budding undergrad. 
By this time, Krystal has taken all your other recruits from your line, regarding you with a raised brow. She’s fast with her attendance, so you know you don’t have much time. 
“I applied last minute,” Jungkook says, scratching his head, “was running out of options before graduation. I didn’t know you’d be one of my recruiters, though. Lucky me.” 
Jungkook and you never ended up keeping in contact, at least as of recent. A check-in message a few months in, a happy birthday or holiday greeting late at night. But two years later and those messages are automatic, with no feeling or personality. You never thought you’d see him again, no less in the city. 
“You just graduated with your masters, congrats,” you smile at Jungkook, although you’re sure the feigned emotion fails to reach your eyes, “IT Management, right?” 
“You remembered,” Jungkook brightens, reaching over to squeeze your shoulder, “you look good.” 
“Oh please—”  you laugh to yourself, shaking your head, “I just got off a flight and I ran over in a two-day old suit, I don’t even have makeup on,” you didn’t feel this way in the morning, you just rushed to do the bare minimum to be enough and ran over to the convention hall. But now in the presence of Jungkook who looks so handsome and clean-cut, you can’t help but feel a little slighted at the sudden reunion. 
“You’re always beautiful,” Jungkook exhales, and you clutch your clipboard closer to your chest. 
You cough, an excuse for him to stop touching your shoulder, “You should go inside, it’s gonna start soon. We can catch up later.”
“Wait—” you make a scrunched up face that Jungkook can’t catch, but right in Krystal’s view. You can tell she’s laughing at you internally with her devious grin. “I just wanted to say, Tzuyu isn’t my girlfriend. We’re just…” 
“Fooling around?” you didn’t mean for it to sound so sharp, but you wanted this conversation over. You have a job to do and Jungkook is your emotional barrier. 
You and Jungkook used to fool around. 
Jungkook winces, looking younger in his monkey suit. “I mean if you give me a chance to explain later—”  
“Nametag, let’s go newbie.” Krystal slaps on the sticker herself, a little too hard if she asked. She doesn’t even bother to write his full name, just a bright green Jeon JK, IT Management tacked on his breast pocket, clashing with the gold pocket square. 
“Sorry,” Jungkook tucks his tail in for now, bowing at you and Krystal as he scurries inside. 
You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding in. Krystal doesn’t bother to comfort you or ask what’s up—not that you want her to, even though you do want a breather before you have to go up on that stage and explain the itinerary for a week. The only thing you can do is smooth out your skirt, brush away the flyaways on your hairstyle and plaster a company-paid smile on your face.
The autopilot switch is on throughout the rest of the morning. Not just because Jungkook’s around, but the new position has got you on livewire. You’re glad that you’re not wearing base makeup because you are absolutely melting with all the high beam lights all up in your face as you talk through the week’s activities. 
You could swear Jungkook clapped a little harder than most once you stopped talking, but maybe it’s because you’re not used to seeing Jungkook in the very front of a lecture. In fact, he was a very hard middle person, preferring not to show off his intelligence and let other people lead the discussion. Then again, it’s been two years, you don’t know how much he’s changed. 
Jessica caps off the seminar with a great kick-off, the happy hour. The recruitment team picks a four star restaurant under their hotel so the recruits can enjoy themselves before going off to the training facility for a week. 
And by training facility, you also mean yet another four-star hotel. You knew you made the right decision by joining this company because the benefits are impeccable, and value personal enjoyment just as much as they value work ethic. In the morning you and the recruits will be driving uptown to a private resort where there would be classes in the morning, and recoup in the evening. You’re very much looking forward to the infinity pool on the roof. 
The recruits are ushered out as soon as you’re done, and that’s when you step out of the shadows to clean up the chairs and the brochures left behind. Thankfully Jungkook is probably following the norm and going back to the hotel to freshen up before dinner. Once the room is completely empty, you rip off your blazer and let yourself relax. 
It’s going to be a long week. 
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Jeon: where u @?
You: hotel room
Jeon: why? Thought we were all gonna have dinner together
You: nahhh, this night is for the recruits! You’ll be tired of our faces by the end of the week, enjoy it while you can 😉  have a good night
You sigh in contentment, relaxing further into the silk sheets. You just finished your skincare routine, letting some mindless drama play as the essences and serums sink into your skin. All you want is one Jungkook-free night. Tomorrow you’ll be stuck training him and Tzuyu for the week and you want to take tonight to emotionally prepare yourself. 
Your phone rings once more. 
Big Baddie Jessica Jung: krystal and i ordered takeout in the restaurant downstairs. Can u bring it to our  room? Plsssssss 
Little Baddie Krystal Jung: it’ll be faster if you do it, we even got u a lil somethin🍰🍰🍰
Taking in your outfit, you grimace. You’re dressed for bed, a large nightie with your hair pulled back and a little pink bunny tie headband on top. Can’t they get room service to send it up? You admire your boss but you don’t understand why she needs to display her power over and over, she already knows you’ll follow her to the ends of the earth. 
Quickly slipping into a pair of sneakers you run down the expanse of the hotel. It’s easy to spot where the recruits are, livin’ it up in the large restaurant that takes up half the space of the ground floor. Most of them are pretty drunk, hoping to sleep off the hangover on the four-hour bus ride. You have absolutely no judgement, two years ago you were in the same position. 
Thankfully you don’t have to go far into the restaurant, as the hostess immediately knows Jessica’s order. While you wait for her to go into the kitchen and get it you drum your fingers against the counter, hoping no one notices you. It’s akin to when you’re a teacher in a mall, hoping none of your students gawk at you in the middle of Victoria’s Secret. 
“Ah, well Jungkook and I aren’t official yet—but very soon.” 
Your ears perk up at the sweet voice. Tzuyu is leaning across the open bar next to the counter, sipping on a mango mojito. She’s dumped the blazer for the night, showing off her soft skin and slender arms with a sleeveless cream blouse. 
“Then where is he?” another recruiter asks, gesturing to the expanse of the lobby. 
“He’s not much of a party person,” Tzuyu shrugs, tipping back her drink. 
You scoff, plastering on a smile to the hostess as you grab your bags and walk as fast as you can out of the lobby. You’ve never felt more like an old hag until now. Sure, most of the recruits are younger than you, but seeing Tzuyu talk so freely about her relationship with Jungkook has you in a bit of a spiral. The day of graduation, you told Jungkook not to wait for you. Heck, you’re only interested in the idea of what you could’ve had with Jungkook. 
These thoughts only cloud you further as you jab the elevator buttons all the way up to the suites where you and the Jungs reside. You relax a little when you see a strawberry cheesecake sitting prettily on the top of their order, your name written on the label with a little heart. Hanging their bag on the door handle of their room, you make your way back to your suite. 
You freeze when you see a floppy-haired Jungkook roaming the hallway, looking like a clueless child hobbling around in slippers and wide eyes at any sparkly item that decorates the area. It doesn’t even look like he tried attending the happy hour tonight, dressed in an impossibly big heather grey sweatsuit that swallows his form. 
“Are you lost?” you ask tentatively, as if you’re talking to a toddler lost at the mall. 
Jungkook relaxes considerably at the sound of your voice, and he replies, “Was tryna find your room since you didn’t reply to my texts.”
“So… you decided to check all the rooms?” 
“Yep,” he pops the p with a smack of his lips, “I figured the recruiters would be far away from the party so I started at the top. Thankfully I got to Jessica’s room first. Didn’t have to knock on too many doors. Only one old man got annoyed at me.” 
“You’re crazy,” you chuckle, slipping in your keycard to let Jungkook in. 
“Fuck, this room all to yourself?” 
Jungkook doesn’t hesitate to kick his slides to a corner of the wall, flopping atop your bed and clutching your baby blue koala plush in his arms. The king sized bed is enough for his legs to stretch comfortably without falling off the edge, and he eagerly pads his feet against the soft fabric. 
It warms you to think that Jungkook is comfy enough to lay on your bed and hug your stuffed animals, a semblance of friends that you’ve missed for such a long time. Last year the team you worked for was great, you loved the people and even now you consider some of them friends. This year the team is a little smaller, and since your two other co-workers are sisters, it’s a little harder to nudge yourself in the direction of friendship. 
As soon as you sit down against the headboard, Jungkook’s eyes soften. Everything feels so different and the same. The threadbare pajamas that either of you haven’t had the heart to throw away since they’re so damn comfy, yet  your bodies are a little more worn and your eyes a little more droopier than usual. 
“So,” Jungkook bites his lip, not in the sexy way, but the nervous way, “about Tzuyu—”
“Jungkook, you don’t have to explain yourself,” you slump on your corner of the bed, regarding Jungkook with guilty eyes. “I really shouldn’t be feeling the way I’m feeling. It isn’t fair and I don’t want to jeopardize your internship.”
“And… what are you feeling?” 
“Dumb things.” 
“Your feelings aren’t dumb.”
“This time they are.”
“I’ve always shared my feelings, it’s unfair that you never want to share yours,” Jungkook sits up, criss-cross applesauce, pensive. “Maybe it’s my fault for not making you feel comfortable enough to share, but I feel like the reason why we never worked out was because we never tried hard enough to have a proper conversation.” 
How could you have missed all the indicators, all the good words, all the kindness Jungkook has given you that last semester? “You’re absolutely right,” you let your insecurities, your apprehensiveness, get in the way. You think in two years you’d do better to eradicate this kind of behavior, but lately you haven’t had many friends to express your feelings to. “Tell you what, I’ll work harder to express how I feel. No exchanges, no nothings. I owe you this.” 
“You owe me nothing,” Jungkook smiles, “I just think it would be nice to y’know, talk. As friends.” 
“Right, friends.”
“So, will you hear me out about Tzuyu?” 
“Let me open my cake,” you pull out your bag with the cheesecake, which thankfully has two spoons, “it seems like we’ll be having that kind of conversation.” 
Everyone is more amicable because of food. According to Jungkook, Tzuyu has a hardcore, ten-year plan for her twenties. After a couple of dates with Jungkook, Tzuyu whips him into the plan. Mentions that she’s well-bred and has a family reputation to uphold. Says IT Management is something completely desirable in a partner, that he’s sensible and wonderful and would like to be committed full-time. 
“And she talked to her parents about me and said that I’m a good prospect for marriage. Like I’m another pillar in her plan!” Jungkook cries, taking a monstrously sized bite of your cheesecake, wallowing away.
This is akin to sleepovers you’ve always wanted to have in high school, down to the food gorging. You can’t help but be fascinated, “So are you wrapped up in an engagement? Is this a scary rendition of Crazy Rich Asians?” 
“You just can’t turn a one-eighty like that on a fifth date,” Jungkook shakes his head, reeling at the emotional whiplash, “she’s really nice. Really organized, really perfect. It really intimidates me.”
“Is she what you reaaaally want?” you can’t help but ask, rolling your eyes at the excessive use of the word, and tamp down the pain in your stomach by eating a forkful of creamy cheesecake. 
“I don’t know!” Jungkook replies exasperatedly, “Obviously I’m worried since she wants to put a ring on it. I told her she needs to back off. Right after the seminar I said she had no right telling other people we’re boyfriend and girlfriend. She didn’t say much, just frowned and walked away.” 
You roll your eyes, scraping the leftover graham cracker crust from the edge of the plastic plate. “According to her, I heard you two are planning to make it official very soon.” 
His eyes widen, “I really bring girl trouble wherever I go, don’t I?” 
“Since I’ve known you,” you half-joke, putting away the plastic cutlery on the nightstand. 
You two sit in silence for a few moments, letting the television fill the room with mindless static about some sappy Hallmark movie. Tentatively, you land a hand on Jungkook’s knee. He looks down at your tiny fingers, giving his skin an experimental squeeze of comfort. 
“I don’t want her,” he finally says. 
“Okay,” you reply, “you won’t even have to talk to her if you don’t want to. I can arrange the groups this week so you don’t have to be around—”
“Give me one week,” his eyes flash to yours, dark and sharp.
“Jungkook. You have your determined face on,” it makes you sweat.  
“Because I’m determined to win you over, once and for all,” you eyes widen, and Jungkook visibly freezes, “was that too much? I’m kind of on an emotional high today. I didn’t expect to see you today and it kind of threw me into a loop. I thought I might be running into you once I started my internship but I didn’t think you’d be my recruiter. And then you went on that stage all bad-ass talking about work and you looked so gorgeous in your suit and I was so proud knowing you made it and IrealizedhowmuchImissedyou—” 
“Jungkook, slower,” you’re feeling a little woozy as well, equally overwhelmed. “You’re just saying this because you didn’t expect to see me—” 
“You’re deflecting, again.” 
“I’m scared, okay?” you blurt, throwing your hands in the air. “You’re right, this is all so sudden. So can’t we just start being friends and see if it takes us somewhere? You don’t have to win me over, just support me like I’ll support you.” 
“I’m sorry,” Jungkook moves up the bed, so he’s leaning against the headboard as well. His long legs stretch farther than yours, and it feels oddly domestic as you talk it out and stare at the television screen. “I’m just, worried I’m running out of time.” 
“I'm not going anywhere this time.” 
“I know,” Jungkook shakes his head, ridding himself of his torrid thoughts. Conceding, he gestures to the television, pulling out the remote under your pillow, “wanna watch television, or catch up?” 
You last about an hour until you knock out. However, Jungkook keeps you entertained up until that moment, as you exchange your lives and stresses. Everything meshes together, you’re not sure if it’s the charm that comes with late night talks, but you feel like you can talk to Jungkook about anything if given the time. You melt when he strokes your hair till the last minute, wishing you a goodnight and a promise of more. 
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“Okay, I’ve gone over most of the work ethics in the manual,” you smile nervously when you see your glazed over recruits, nearly falling off their chairs. Even Krystal is bored out of her mind, discreetly playing with her phone in the back under her manual. Of course you’d get stuck with teaching the boring classes. “Any last minute questions before we head off for dinner?” 
Tzuyu shoots her hand up, “Are romantic relationships allowed in the workplace?” 
Jungkook promptly chokes on his water bottle. He looks up at you, panicked. Ignoring his terror, you paint on a thin smile towards the young woman, “Like I mentioned earlier, romantic relationships between employees are not frowned upon, so long as you’re not working under or over someone in the same department.” 
“Right, just wanted to make sure,” Tzuyu is all chipper smiles as she thanks you.  
If you were still twenty-one, you’d gag at the pointed look she sends Jungkook. They’re sitting diagonal from each other, and Jungkook makes a point to pretend to be interested in your lecture until the very end. 
You’re halfway done with recruitment week, and while you’re not shocked at how fast the week has gone by, you’re fairly disappointed that Jungkook and you haven’t had time to meet up in private. So far it’s been easy enough to keep your friendship (and past sexual relationship) a secret, but something dark and eager tells you how much you want more. The recruiters are eager to leave, all twenty-three of them grouping off and talking about what they want to eat for dinner. Everyone except a certain dark-haired fellow, who’s hair is currently bouncing off it’s styled coiff, wanting to return to it’s normal non-gelled self. 
“Kookie,” you raise a brow at the interaction, Tzuyu leaning over her chair to Jungkook’s, “wanna get dinner tonight?” 
Jungkook’s taking an excruciatingly long time to pack his things, raising a brow at her, “I’ve told you already, I don’t want to be involved in whatever plans you have.” 
“Oh-kay,” Tzuyu rocks back and forth on her oxford heels, pursing her magenta pink lips, “then why don’t we at least walk back to the hotel together? I really want to talk about some things that might change your mind.”
“Nothing will change my mind,” Jungkook’s determined face has been staying strong for the week, from the way he makes sure he’s first in your class to the simple “good morning” and “good night” texts you exchange. “Besides, I have a date tonight. And I really want to talk to the recruiters about a personal work matter, so can you please leave?”  
You try not to snort at how blatant Jungkook was being. You pretend to organize your folders, throwing whatever random notes you have in your bag for later. 
“A date,” she twitches,  “with who?” 
“Someone that doesn’t treat me like a stepping stone in her career path,” Jungkook deadpans, and that’s all it takes for Tzuyu to huff and walk away from the hall. 
You think Tzuyu is like a bug, relatively harmless, but someone who gets on your nerves. 
“A date, huh?” Krystal quotes, finally looking up from her phone. Her sharp, cat-eyes linger at the door, wondering if Tzuyu is going to pop out and try to drag Jungkook by the reins. Finally, she plants her stare between you and Jungkook. “So, you two fucking?” 
“Former fucking,” Jungkook supplies helpfully, and you jump off your podium to elbow him in the ribs, “ow—what?” 
“You just don’t tell Krystal we’re fucking!” 
“Former fucking,” he chastises, but the eyes he sends you are a little sultry, and you wonder if he’s thinking of fucking in the future. You reel yourself back, focusing on the third party.
But you anticipate that Krystal couldn’t care less, and you’re grateful for that. While a smaller work team means a smaller possibility of close work relationships, you do like the drama-free environment. “Like you said,” Krystal shrugs, slinging her briefcase over her shoulder, “romantic relationships in the workplace are not frowned upon.” 
You wring your hands between your bag when Krystal finally makes her getaway, and you look up at Jungkook. “So,” you smile wryly, “you have a date tonight, huh?” 
“With a pretty working woman,” he sighs dramatically, putting a hand over his chest, “that is, if she’ll have me.” 
“Consider yourself taken.”  
Jungkook and you sneak away to your suite once again. To your surprise, the suite is decorated in rose petals and a bottle of champagne sits in an ice bath on your bedside. A large pizza pie sits beautifully on your coffee table, and the television is playing lo-fi hip-hop. 
You feed Jungkook champagne-dipped strawberries as you gorge on the joy that is baked bread and cheese. 
And when he kisses you, it’s slow and sweet, like you have all the time in the world. 
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It’s the last day of recruitment week, and all classes ended at noon so the interns can use all the resort’s amenities to the fullest. Many of the interns, including yourself, Jessica and Krystal, are on the rooftop celebrating a successful workweek. Staff and interns alike are buzzing around, eager to top off their weekend with some relaxation and sun. 
Jungkook is with his new team, conversing with other IT employees. You try not to stare too hard at your reignited flame, tipping back a cutely decorated glass of fruit. His arms ripple as he tips back the liquid. He’s wearing a tank top and you could swear his biceps have gotten meatier. Unfortunately you hold yourself back, after all the internship isn’t quite over and you still are a professional. 
At the end of the weekend you really have nothing to worry about, you know that. 
But Tzuyu? She irritating. 
“I just don’t understand,” Tzuyu suspects nothing of your budding relationship with Jungkook. You’re thankful for that because towards the end of the week, it was getting harder and harder to be subtle when you two send each other heart eyes from three meters away. 
Tzuyu sounds like she’s talking to herself, the way she stares into the infinity pool, despite the fact that her friends are surrounding her with rapt attention. You’re a cabana away from her, sipping languidly at your drink while Jessica and Krystal nap next to you. Even though you can’t see Tzuyu, you can practically feel her pout emanating through the fabric that separates you two. Despite the fact that she’s been offered a great intern position given her degree and experience, she’s still upset. For her, is that not the most important part of this whole week? 
“Jungkook’s really not that great if he’s going to turn me down like that,” Tzuyu seethes. You should write up her nonsense in a book and publish it, really. “Why waste time when he has the whole package right in front of him?” 
It’s then you realize why you’ve been so torn, so strung up and wound tight all these years. Just like college, all shy and hesitant to take a step forward while Jungkook was ten steps ahead, you were worried. You let other people’s thoughts stop you from making the leap, girls like Tzuyu that never meant to intimidate you, but you let their presence get up in your head and control the nonexistent hierarchy. 
But two years later, and that doesn’t matter. It never mattered. Jungkook is no longer the all-star lacrosse player, but what remains is his heart, full and willing. 
Everything Tzuyu just said was… wrong. Irrevocably, inexplicably messed up. But the idea of “wasting time” does strike a chord within you. Are you wasting time? At this point, your feelings of each other are pretty clear. What are you two waiting for, again? 
You thought Krystal was sleeping, considering her sunhat sitting atop her face, but once she hears you packing away your bag she whistles, “Go get ‘em, tiger.” 
Sending a quick text to Jungkook, you make a beeline for your destination. You don’t even bother looking for him in the crowd. 
You: meet me by the elevator at the very end of the lobby. 
Not a minute passes by when Jungkook joins you at said elevator. He has two glasses of champagne in his hands, and offers one to you, “tired of the party?” he asks.  
You clink drinks, easily tipping yours back. “It’s not our thing,” you declare with a small smile. Jungkook's eyes soften, glancing back and forth between your face and the soft pleats of your marigold sundress. His hair is pushed back, sticky from sweat and chlorine, dark bangs hanging over the shaved sides of his head. You turn your head slightly as you wait for the elevator, biting your lip as you're sorely reminded of how sexy Jungkook looked at the dive pool half an hour ago. 
The elevator dings, and it’s wide enough for you to slip in at the same time. You put your champagne glass in the corner of the elevator for now, hoping you don’t accidentally step on it. In closed quarters, you can smell the slight tang of chlorine coming from Jungkook, combined with his own brand of musk. 
Jungkook looks younger tonight, happier. Having just finished graduate school and working towards a full-time gig, another chapter in his life has started. His hair is no longer in that tight-whipped coiff he struggled all week to maintain, loosened in its natural wave due to the pool water and heat. His cheeks are a little ruddied and plump, a sign he’s been enjoying the food this week. 
The door barely closes when you get it out, pulling at his hand to face you.
“Jungkook, I like you,” you blurt, and his eyes bug out considerably. Out of reflex, his hand sharply squeezes yours. “You don’t have to say anything, because you’ve been saying everything for the majority of our relationship. I really like you, I really liked you back then too. You’re still so sweet, and loving, and smart and I’ve just been too dumb and insecure to—” 
Jungkook seals your confession away with a desperate kiss, and you turn into a pile of mush at the contact. Relief seeps into your bones, sings into your system. When he pulls away, he looks serious. He doesn’t let you get far, and clutches your face between his two hands so you can’t turn your head. Your soft cheeks fill between his fingers, warm and cradled. 
“Never call yourself that,” Jungkook exhales, regarding you with firm eyes, “you’re beautiful, and intelligent, and the person I want.” 
“I don’t wanna take it slow anymore,” you mumble against his lips, leaning in so that you can barely nip at the pink skin. “Want you now, need you now.” 
“You have me now,” Jungkook agrees, and as soon as the elevator dings open to your floor, he scoops you up into his arms. 
By all means it’s not graceful, he’s clutching you like a baby with his hands over your butt as he jiggles you all the way to your front door. Clinging onto him like a koala, you press kisses to his cheeks as he leads you to your room. You laugh and giggle like teenagers, as he fumbles between your breast to grab the card key that’s nestled between your bra. It’s warm in his hand as he swipes it through the reader, pushing you inside. 
“Is it bad that I’m kinda turned on by the fact you got my key out of my boob?” you joke, although the contact of his rough fingers against your breast is a feeling well missed. 
“Is it bad that I’m always turned on when you lecture in seminars?” Jungkook retorts, kicking the door closed with his slipper-clad foot as he walks you to the bed. “Fuck, I can hear you talk about insurance benefits all day.” 
“Didn’t know my sex appeal extended that way—oh fuck—” 
Your vibrant marigold sundresses provides easy access to Jungkook as he throws you onto the mattress, your skirt billowing over your waist as he makes quick work to expose more of your skin. 
“No more talking, more loving,” he’s crazed, doesn’t hesitate to move your bikini bottoms to the side as he rubs lovingly at your long-lost bud, “need to fuck you, now. It’s been so fucking long.” 
“Kook,” his breath is warm against your already sopping cunt, and you lift your hand to run through the strands of his messy hair. It only takes one firm tug and you’re able to pull him up by the root of his hair, cranberry juice tinted lips with a faint sheen because he couldn’t help himself to have a little taste of you. “Baby, let me touch you. Let me show you how much I want you," you coo with a pout, hands trailing over the drawstrings of his trunks.
You can see how much Jungkook wants to say yes. His eyes glow with the possibility, bright and wanting in the afternoon sunlight. The image of him shoving his cock deep into your throat, so far that you can taste it in every crevice of your mouth. Your nails gripping into his ass as you go deeper, tears pricking your eyes as cum seeps out of your pretty lips. 
But he firmly shakes his head, fingers doing the devil’s work as he eases a digit in you. A little noise of protest bubbles in your throat, but it soon dies out as soon as he finds the right spot to reduce you to mush. 
“Next time,” he exhales against the juncture between your thigh and pelvis, picking up the pace and adding another finger, “if you touch me, I’ll cum right then n’there. This is enough for me, you’re enough.” 
So you let him have what he wants. You’ll make it up to him in the morning, and the day after, and the day after. You shed your clothes, the sundress extra forgiving as it slides off your body, revealing a swimsuit that hasn’t even touched the pool. You feel a little self-conscious as he drinks you in after so long, but he quickly shucks off his clothes to match your state of nakedness. 
You remember how you tiptoed around your first night with Jungkook, taking great care to make sure it was fleeting, how dark the room was as you let your pleasure take over your senses. Two years later and the sun is setting, gold bleeding through your sheets and illuminating the room. There's no need to hide.
“I must say, we’ve both kept it tight,” Jungkook teases with a wink, squeezing your hips so he can change positions. 
You silently agree, your fingers slipping across the washboard of his waist. 
“Mm, and still so fuckin’ cute,” Jungkook marvels as he pulls you up on his lap. Your whole body is flushed with want, one hand squeezing your breasts while the other plays with the curls of hair that lead to your sopping wetness. You glide your core over Jungkook’s stomach, sighing as you take note of the abs that clench under your heat and his hot member that rubs between your ass. 
It’s a tight fit when you finally sink down on him, but the burn only fuels your desire as he stretches you wide. His grip is helpful as he guides you through the motions. It’s been awhile since you’ve been this physical with someone, and it’s almost comical when you both sigh in contentment at the contact. 
“I’ve missed this,” you mumble, biting into his shoulder as he thrusts up. 
“Mm, it feels different, right?” Jungkook hums, keeping a slow pace. The drag is wonderful, and you know that he’s trying to prolong the moment. He reaches for your head, presses his forehead to yours as he speaks, “you’re mine now, right? For real.” 
“I’m all yours, Jungkook,” you press kisses everywhere. No need to hide anymore. You bleed love into every kiss, to his jawline, the little freckles across his chin, his lips. “This is romantic and all, but I really want you to dick me down. Which is why you need to go a little faster, you sap.” 
Jungkook scoffs, “A pillow princess is what you are.” 
He stops moving, and you two sink further into the mattress without its springs bringing you back up. The both of you are acutely aware of how wet you both are, your combined arousals seeping between your seams and dripping onto Jungkook’s thighs. But the young man simply relaxes against the headboard, baiting you. 
“Kook,” you whine, clenching against his member. Your hot walls have a mind of their own, unable to stifle their desire. Sweat lines Jungkook’s brow as he tries his hardest not to move, just simply be. 
“Tell me how much you want me, princess,” the pet name has you clenching harder, and you pout. 
“Baby,” you whine, leaning forward to whisper in his ear. There’s no one in the room, and you’re sure no one is on this floor because everyone’s on the rooftop, but the words you’re about to say are for Jungkook and Jungkook only, “please, I want you to pound me into this mattress until I can’t walk anymore. I want to cry out your name so everyone can hear I’m yours. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” you nip at his lobe, and let your thumb nick at the simple silver rings that adorn his ear. You hear a click of his teeth, indicating the clench of his jaw as his muscles flex around your body, "I want you to fill me with your cum until I’m eating it, and—and—oh Kook!” 
Your words aren’t enough to distract you from his large dick sitting prettily between your folds, and you’re suddenly cumming, all by the mere thought of what’s to happen. You’re shuddering in his arms, and Jungkook soothes you by running his fingers over the spine of your back, distracting you from the utter mess you’re making on the sheets. 
“Such a good girl,” Jungkook coddles you, stroking your hair, “can my good girl take it?” 
“Y-yes, Kook,” you nod eagerly, fighting the overstimulation as he nudges you off his lap. You’re pliable, as Jungkook sets up the pillows for you to rest comfortably as you get on your elbows and knees, “your good girl.” 
You shudder as your bare pussy starts to feel cold, immediately missing the warmth Jungkook can provide. You can practically feel his hot gaze burning in your back, his large palm squeezing your ass as he marvels at how ready and eager you are for him. 
“It’s so easy to slip inside,” Jungkook rubs your nectar across the head of his cock, swirling around your engorged skin as he slips right inside. You both moan at the stretch, “Finally, my adorable baby, you like this? You like getting pounded like the dirty girl you really are?” 
“Mm, yes!” you squeal, clutching onto the feather down pillows for dear life as Jungkook displays his strength, one hand gripping your hips as the other weaves itself into your hair. It’s a delicious mix of pleasure and pain, and the lewd sounds of each other’s juices and his balls against your ass echoing in the room. 
“Y-yeah,” despite his power, his thrusts are sloppy, and you know he’s almost at the edge, “and I like you, so so much. I want to make you cum everyday, make you happy and—mph—” he gives up on talking, focusing entirely on his destination. 
“Cum, baby,” you urge, melting when his one hand comes to thread with your own, “fill me up with you.” 
He flips you on your back, and you finally see how desperate Jungkook is to cum. His eyes are glassy, filled with emotion as he strokes himself to completion. Your hand reaches up to cup his damp face, and that’s when you feel him loosen. Hot, pearly strings cling to your pussy, decorating your skin in his essence. Your fingers immediately reach down to swirl the cum between your folds, and Jungkook groans at the picture, immediately throwing your hands to the side to kiss you senseless. 
There’s so much pouring between the two of you, affection, the feeling of being cherished, so much that you can feel the whole world reducing to the two of you. 
“All mine,” he whispers to himself, as if he still can’t believe it. And then, he puts up a poker face as he leans into you, resting his head gently on your breasts, “I knew I only needed a week.”
You narrow your eyes, flicking lightly at his forehead. You’re sticky, sweaty, and covered in cum and while you’re exhausted, the built in jacuzzi in your washroom looks very enticing right now. “Jungkook, this happened naturally. I said we would try as friends first and we did. We just so happened to escalate pretty fast.” 
“I don’t think it was that fast,” Jungkook nuzzles his face into your skin, “it’s been two years since college. Being popular did do a number on our relationship, but we caught up." 
“You were popular-ish,” you roll your eyes, teasing him. His face falls, and you can’t help yourself. Your hands reach over to cup his cheeks, and you happily squish the supple, pouty flesh. He’s adorable. “Kim Taehyung though? Park Jimin? Absolute heartthrobs I couldn’t stand to be near them—ah!” 
Jungkook seems to read your mind, lifting you bridal style to drag you over to the bathroom where the marble jacuzzi sits tauntingly. The stone is ice cold as he brings you both inside, immediately turning on the nozzles to fill it with steaming hot water. You find the tiny bottle of lavender suds, spilling the soap in an arc. His legs slip over yours, cradling you so that your back is pressed against Jungkook’s chest. 
“Being popular never mattered,” Jungkook shakes his head, pressing a kiss to your jaw, “I realized the only person who I really needed to notice me was you.” 
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bonus. 
You wake Jungkook up the next morning with your lips wrapped around his cock, fresh cherry balm rubbing down the thick veins until he's cumming down your throat. 
"Wow," Jungkook whistles, licking his lips at the sight of you sucking the arousal from your thumb. He huffs against the pillow, eyes darting to the open organza window, letting in the early morning light. The rooftop of a multi-star hotel, white Egyptian cotton seats, a full time job on the way and waking up in the most blissful way possible. 
"I have a proposal," you crawl on top of him like a koala, hooking your thighs between his blanket clad body. 
"I do," he replies instantly, looking straight at you with droopy puppy eyes.
"Not that kind," you slap his chest, "where are you living once orientation is over?" 
"Mm, there's a boarding house near a local translation. It's probably an hour commute? Not too bad." 
"So, I just leased a townhouse last month," you bite your lip, tucking your head between his neck to hide your embarrassment, "I was gonna rent out the spare room and put an advert in the paper but…"
"I do."
"I said it isn't a marriage proposal."
"Asking you to live with me is basically a marriage proposal."
"There will be no benefits," you sit up, wagging a finger in his face, "you'll be paying rent and half the utilities. And you will be doing all the laundry." 
"Sure," Jungkook replies loftily, squeezing your ass, "you're benefit enough." 
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band--psycho · 3 years
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Jax Teller x Reader-I’m The Baby Whisperer
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Requested by the lovely @rebelwrites​​​, I hope you all enjoy this! 💜
Prompt List Requests / 1.3k Writing Celebration Masterlist / Sons Of Anarchy Masterlist 
I sighed in frustration, throwing my phone on the couch before collapsing into it myself. As soon as I felt like I was taking a step forward, I seemed to get knocked back again. I was meant to be going for an interview today and up until a few minutes ago everything was going just like I’d hoped, my son was s/n was still peacefully sleeping in his crib, allowing me to try on at least five different outfits for the interview before settling on a white blouse, a navy blue blazer with matching trousers and a pair of white block heels shoes to match my top, as well as a light covering of makeup. I felt more confident than I had done in years and I was so determined to ace this interview right up until my sister rang me saying that she wouldn’t be able to come over and look after S/n. It wasn’t her fault and I knew that, but I had no back up plan and I didn’t have the money to pay a babysitter. I felt everything I had hoped for just begin to slowly fall apart in front of me and I had no idea what to do.
I was dragged away from my thoughts when I heard a repetitive knocking at my door and couldn’t help but feel a sense of dread and annoyance wash over me as I bolted towards the door. It wasn’t because I was scared who was on the other side of the door but because I didn’t want anything to disturb S/n nor did I want anyone to see the state I was currently in. However, all of that seemed to fade when I opened the door to see the one and only Jax Teller standing outside with a bag of groceries in his hand, his charming smile painted on his face. 
“Why’re you so dressed up at this hour?” He asked, with a small chuckle in his voice as his eyes scanned down my body. Normally whenever he came round I was dressed in what I like to call my lazy day wear, which mainly consisted of baggy jeans, a crop top and a cardigan, so I could imagine seeing me like this would be a shock. But as he said those words I felt my heart drop as I remembered the interview...
“Woah, what’s wrong, darlin’?” He asked, his smile faltering slightly when his eyes locked with mine, without any hesitation he pulled me into a hug that  I gladly reciprocated. There was always something about Jax that calmed me, no matter how stressed I was. 
“I was meant to have an interview today,” I muttered into his chest, trying not to burst into tears as all of the stress built up in my body. 
He pulled from the hug slightly with a raised eyebrow before asking “An interview?” 
“Y’know like a job interview,” I sassed back with, a small smile creeping upon my face as a small chuckle slipped past his perfect lips.
“I’m well aware what an interview is, darlin’, where?” 
“This new firm in town,” I answered, sighing in defeat once again, pulling away from the hug completely as I tried to keep myself together. The last thing I wanted to do was breakdown on Jax-he’d seen enough of my breakdowns recently. I didn’t want to put him through another one. 
“Okay,” He began, in a low voice, walking towards me, rubbing soothing circles onto my arms “I'm struggling to see what’s bad about this, shouldn’t you be happy to have an interview?” 
“I would be but my sister just called me saying that she’s ill so can’t look after S/n and my mum isn’t picking up her phone and I can’t just take him into the interview and even if I could I’ve only just got him off to sleep and-”
“Darlin’, breathe,” Jax interjected, moving his hands from my arm to my face, caressing my cheeks as he lightly lifted my face up, forcing my eyes to look into his gorgeous blue ones; getting lost in them like I always used to. Even his eyes could calm me down...it was bizarre, but right now it’s what I needed. 
I tried so hard to stop the tears that forming in my eyes from falling because I didn’t want to breakdown nor did I want to ruin my makeup “Sorry, I just...I just don’t know what to do,” I muttered, feeling myself lean in more to his touch, like it was the only thing keeping me together. Which to be honest at this very moment wasn’t that far from the truth. 
“I’ll look after him,” Jax stated, his hands tracing small circles on to my cheeks. Those very words were enough to make my heart both melt and to strike fear into me. I trusted Jax more than anyone in this world and I knew he would never hurt S/n but since I’d left Will, my abusive ex boyfriend I never felt comfortable leaving S/n alone with anyone else besides my sister and my mum because I trusted them and I knew that they would never hurt S/n. But it was Jax. He wasn’t some random stranger, he was one of my closest friends. He was the friend who practically saved me from that toxic relationship....
“He’s safe with me,” Jax whispered soothingly, his hands still caressing my face, holding me close. I nodded slowly knowing that I could trust him with S/n.
A small smile came on his face at my answer, before he connected his lips lightly to my forehead,“Knock ‘em dead, darlin’,” he whispered before handing me the keys to my car, that charming smile coming on his face again, making my heart race and my cheeks redden, luckily I turned around and quickly left the house before he could notice. 
~~~~~~~~~~
The interview went amazingly well, I don’t think I’d ever had an interview go that well in any of my previous jobs, so to say that I was confident in getting a job was an understatement. As I pulled up outside the house, I fully expected to hear S/n crying echoing outside the house as I walked towards it, but I didn’t. In fact I heard nothing but silence. Pure silence, normally people would enjoy the silence but all I could feel was worry. Worry that Will had found out where we were...that he’d hurt Jax and taken S/n, quickly I opened the door and shouted out “Jax”, at first he didn’t appear only making the anxiety I was feeling to grow but when I shouted his name for the second time and he appeared carrying S/n in his arms, with a pleased grin on his face.Relief washed over me as I saw  both of them and I felt my heart swell in my chest as the scene before me. I’d never seen S/n so calm around anyone else other than me, not even my sister or mum, even with them he cried a lot. 
“Hey, darlin’, how’d the interview go,” he asked, moving closer towards me, giving me a kiss on the forehead before passing S/n over to me. God I could get used to this, something about coming home to Jax and S/n just made my heart feel whole. 
“It went amazingly well, actually, I’m feeling really confident about it,” I answered with a smile on my face, as I gave S/n his favourite toy, causing him to giggle in joy. 
“I’m glad, you deserve a win darlin’,” his voice was soft and there was a look in his eye that made the butterflies in my stomach flutter.
“How was he?” I asked, with a slight chuckle in my voice as S/n dropped the toy and started playing with my hair instead. 
“He was as good as gold, barely cried at all,” I knew a confused look must’ve come over my face by the way he chuckled, leaning in closer to me and whispered “No need to look so shocked, darlin’, I’m the baby whisperer,after all.” And with that he grabbed his hoodie which was draped over my chair. I didn’t want him to leave; it was nice having him here. He made me feel safe and loved...just like he used to before I left. 
“Do you wanna stay the night?” it took me a second to realise what I’d just asked, making my heart beat faster in my chest more than I ever thought possible. God, no. This was not what I wanted to do. Well I did. I wanted him to stay. But now I’ve probably just scared him off-of course he doesn’t want to stay...why would he...he-was kissing me-wait-what. I opened my eyes briefly in shock, and he was. Jax Teller was kissing me...and within a few seconds without even really thinking about it, I was kissing him back; it was like we were in our own little bubble. The only thing that brought us back to the real world was the sound of S/n giggling away.
“I’d love to stay the night, darlin’,” he whispered against my lips, causing that familiar blush to appear on my cheeks, as he pulled me and S/n into his embrace. This was a new chapter in my life and no matter what had happened before in the past, I was excited to see how my life with Jax would look like. It was the new start I’d desperately craved for so long...and now I had it. 
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westcoastrry · 3 years
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Can’t Help If This Is Us
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Hello friends. I’ve worked super hard on this fic. I’m not a fast writer so this took my while and I’m super happy with the way it turned out! Special thank to my bestie @harryforvogue​ . I wouldn’t know how to spell or about even write if it wasn’t for her so thanks you ugly fart face.
Also I wrote this entirely for free so all I ask is for feedback. I would really appreciate it and would love to hear your thoughts!
literally mate please let me know your thoughts. PLEASE. I beg.
WARNING: there is smut in this and mentions of the mafia.
I hope you enjoy reading Kiara and Harry’s story as much an I enjoyed writing it. 11.5k words
A fic about Kiara, a normal girl who works at a coffee shop in the upper east side of New York, where she meets Harry. A man who is caught up in a job he doesn’t want but is working hard to craft a better life for himself.
Fuck me like you wanna make love
Call me when you wanna stay in touch
Lie together just to gain trust
Say what you wanna say, can't help if this is us
Moving to New York was a fresh start for Kiara.
It’s only been a couple of months, but she has grown accustomed to the city.
She has an apartment in a not-so-great part of town, but it is close to her University, and the view from her balcony isn’t too bad. She is a coffee connoisseur, so when her pregnant friend and neighbor, Trina, helped her get a job at a cafe on the Upper East Side of Manhattan, how could Kiara truly not make the best of her newfound city life?
“An Americano please?” a deep British voice asserts.
Kiara’s cleaning off the steamer about an hour into her morning shift when the man with long chocolate curls speaks to her. Kiara has been working here for a month, and some very high profile people have come to the shop, but Kiara has never seen this man, but he sure looks important. He is in a suit, all black, and the only accessories are the multitude of rings he has on his fingers. The rose one catches her eye first, then the big gold H.S letter rings. Those are his initials? What is the point of that? Is this man obsessed with himself?
“Americano?” he says more lightly, snapping Kiara out of her thoughts.
“Sorry, I- Americano,” Kiara stutters.
Kiara isn’t one to get easily flustered, but how can she not be when this six-foot sexy man was towering over her in a suit, asking for black coffee.
Only real men drink black coffee.
She works around the machine expertly until the man’s voice interrupts her. “You’re new here?”
“Yeah,” she responds, swiping a curl off her forehead. Managing her naturally curly type four hair in the bipolar New York weather has been a challenge. Most days, she wears her thick hair in a bun, or when she can afford to get it done, box braids. “Started working here a month ago.” Kiara hands him the coffee in a brown to-go cup.
“Hmmm. I’m here all the time. I’m sure I would have noticed a new pretty employee.”
“Guess I’m not all that pretty then,” Kiara fires back, handing him a receipt with a pen to sign.
Harry doesn’t really know what to say to that because he actually does find Kiara pretty. He likes that her face is an even brown color with a few beauty marks. He likes the color of her light brown hair, and he really likes the sound of her voice. It’s sort of angelic, even when she is snapping at him.
Harry smugly hands Kiara his hefty card (the first indicator that this man has money) and signs the receipt. He drops some cash on the bill.
“That’s your tip. By the way, I do think you’re pretty.” His eyes flick down to her name tag. “Kiara.”
Kiara rolls her eyes at the man. He probably walks around life getting everything handed to him because he’s rich, white, and hot.
Screw him and his stupid cute dimple, Kiara thinks to herself. She goes to grab the receipt he signed and see’s two fifty-dollar bills stacked on each other.
Her mouth forms into an “o” shape. A hundred dollars on a three-dollar coffee? What sense does that even make? This had to be a mistake.
“Hey Kiara, are you okay?” Trina, who’s waiting tables today, asks. She has her brown apron tied over her baby bump with a few crumpled receipts and pens tucked in the pockets.
“I just got tipped a hundred dollars,” Kiara says, still shocked.
“You go, girl!” Trina enthusiastically shouts. “Who was it? A regular?”
“I’m not sure. I’ve never seen him before. Brown curly hair, dressed in a nice black suit-”
“Oh, that’s Harry,” Trina smiles. “Everyone loves Harry. He is a cutie. Been getting coffee here for a long time. He owns the strip club down the street.”
“I’m sorry. The dude owns a what?”
“A strip club bar type thing,” Trina shrugs. “Very fancy. It’s pretty much only for the elite. He is super nice. Everyone loves him here! He bought me a crib and this fancy high-tech stroller when he found out I was pregnant.”
“Yeah, well, he is kinda a dick if you ask me,” Kiara mutters under her breath.
“He tipped you a hundred dollars, and you’re calling him a dick?” Trina curiously questions.
“He called me pretty! And he had this arrogant ambiance to his voice. And what is with all the rings? It’s tacky.”
Trina places her hands on her hips.“Oh, just say you find the man hot! It’s okay to admit you find Manhattan’s most eligible and rich bachelor hot. I don’t blame you. I would get on it if I wasn’t thirty and pregnant.”
“I’m not admitting anything. Besides, I don’t have time for men. Men just cause problems.”
“Oh, you're telling me?” Trina points to her bulging belly. Kiara snorts at her friend and starts to walk away to grab more coffee beans from the storage, and Trina follows closely behind her. “You need to have some fun! Loosen up. Get your head out of that textbook. You have been living next to me for three months, and I haven’t seen you invite not one boy over! I know that vibrator you use is tired.”
Kiara grabs the box of coffee beans and turns back around to face Trina. “My vibrator is doing me just fine.”
Kiara’s whole life has been centered around academics. She was a really smart kid growing up. She had a good start to life too. However, Kiara’s wholesome childhood took a turn at twelve when her Dad died in a car accident. The accident was horrific for her entire family, but it hit her mom the worst. Her mom went from being a well respected physician's assistant, to being a drug addict, and Kiara had to grow up at the tender age of twelve just to take care of her mother. Around the age of fourteen Kiara’s mom got shipped off to rehab, and she ended up weaving in and out of foster homes until she was eighteen. Kiara realized that she never wants that to happen to her future family. She has been working hard on her academics because she hopes to have a stable income, so she can give her future kid the life that she never had.
It’s not like Kiara didn’t want to go and mingle around. Meet a new guy, have a one-nightstand, maybe even possibly fall in love. However, the dating scene as a brown skin woman in a whitewashed part of the city isn’t as easy as it sounds. Kiara doesn’t teeter the line of looking ethnically ambiguous. She is clearly a Black girl. Caramel skin, tight curls, full lips, and wide hips. Kiara likes these traits that she carries. In fact, she loves them, but men don’t. Specifically, men that aren’t her race. Not to mention that Black men are hard to come by in this particular part of city.
The simple fact is most white men don’t like Black women.
It’s even arguable that Black men don't even like Black women.
And Kiara is okay with that. She doesn’t need to be approved by a bunch of white people, nonetheless ones with penises. She just wishes she had more options to date within her race, or at least find someone who genuinely liked her.
Maybe that’s the reason why Kiara doesn’t want to go out and find a man to have some fun with. She knows he’s going to be white, and she will have to endure hundreds of questions about her race and her hair or meet racist parents, and she has done that all before.
So, for now, instead of explaining this to Trina, her very white friend, she will just blow off her questions about why she isn’t sleeping around or why she doesn’t entertain the idea of going to bars to find cute boys.
+++
The next day Kiara is off work. She spends her day sitting in her bed, in red pajama shorts and her university sweater, studying for her midterm. She got through quite a bit but is still a little worried about not getting an A. About an hour into her studying, she hears bickering from Trina’s apartment.
“I don’t know what you are being so shy about. Just ask her! You are great with girls.”
“No, I’m great at fucking girls. Trying to establish a genuine connection, I haven’t done that in a while.”
“I believe in you! Now go!”
Knock
Knock
It’s another guy that Trina has been trying to set Kiara up with. Trina does this about every other month. Very rarely does Kiara entertain the idea and sleeps with them, because she is bored, but it usually doesn’t go further than that.
Kiara opens the door to her apartment and there stands Harry. He is holding a boutique of red roses in one hand, and his other is behind his back. The suit he is wearing today is slightly different. Same silhouette, but this time the suit is brown. Kiara finally gets a good look at this man, and fuck.
Green eyes, full bright pink lips. Wide shoulders and defined biceps that show he does work out but isn’t a gym rat.
Gucci loafers. Now, this is an interesting man.
“What are you doing here?”
Harry nervously gestures to the flowers in his hand. “I brought you this.”
“You just came here to bring me flowers?”
“I also brought you this,” Harry pulls his hand from behind his back and shows a bottle of wine he got when he went on a business trip in Napa. He was saving the wine for a special occasion, like the next time he would go visit his mom, but this is more than a special occasion in Harry’s eyes. He is trying to swoon this girl.
Kiara smiles at him and grabs the wine bottle. If it’s one thing Kiara has learned in her adult life is that she loves wine. She usually only gets the cheap stuff from the liquor store down the street, but Kiara has never seen this bottle before.
She walked to her kitchen, leaving Harry staring at her dumbfoundedly. She pulled out two wine glasses from her kitchen cabinet.
Normally Kiara wouldn’t entertain this. Especially since she has a test to study for. However, she can’t lie and say she hasn’t been worked up...sexually.
“Alright, you brought me wine. You are welcomed in.”
Harry follows her inside the apartment, feeling a bit awkward. Usually, Harry never found himself at a girl’s place. He always took his one-night stands back to his house and had his assistant, Trevor escort them out in the morning.
Harry was nervous because this wasn’t a one-night stand. This was him bringing wine and flowers to a girls’ apartment, which he barely knows.
Just like Kiara, Harry also hasn’t been in the dating scene in a while. He has been busy with work, and it’s not easy what he does.
“So why did you come all this way to bring me wine?” Kiara asks Harry, pouring some wine into a glass and handing it to him. “I know you don’t live in this part of the city.”
“I don’t.” Harry sits on the barstool by the kitchen countertop. “I told you I thought you were pretty. Nice place, by the way.”
Kiara looks for the sarcasm on Harry’s face when he compliments her one-bedroom apartment but doesn’t find any. Kiara’s apartment isn’t ugly. But it probably is nothing compared to what Harry lives in.
Kiara takes a gulp of her wine. “It’s kinda trash actually. This is the ghetto.”
“You go to Columbia?” Harry asked, noticing her university sweater.
Kiara takes one more gulp of her wine, finishing off what is left in her glass. She was going to answer Harry’s question. She really was. But she got a good look at his bone structure. The way his jaw is a perfectly angled line. The way his Adam apple moves when he takes a sip of his wine. Even the way his fingers glide against the glass.
She begins to wonder how his fingers would feel against her.
“Kiara?”
That was it for Kiara because she doesn’t think she can keep herself composed in front of this beautiful rich man.
Instead of pouring her wine, Kiara grabs the bottle and starts to chug the wine like she is a trucker drinking a Samuel Adams.
Her lips remove from the bottle with a pop sound. Harry is now staring at Kiara completely taken aback by her actions. “What are you really here for, Harry? Sex? Because we can cut the small talk part.”
“Maybe I actually like you, Kiara.”
“You don’t like me.”
“Who told you that,” Harry counters.
Harry watches closely as Kiara struts towards him.
“I thought you were into blonde models?”
“Where are you finding this information from?” he questions.
“Google.”
Harry smirks. “So you’re googling me?”
“You know, if you wanted to know more about me, you could have just asked.”
Kiara cut him off with her lips attached to his. She wanted him to shut up, but she also wanted to kiss him.
Killing two birds with one stone.
Harry’s lips move in sync with hers, and he places his ringed hands on her back, pulling her closer to him.
If Kiara is being honest with herself, Harry’s lips feel like magic. It’s been a while since Kiara has kissed a guy, and she feels butterflies in the pit of her stomach.
“Kiara, what are we doing?” Harry mumbles into her mouth.
“We are gonna go back to my bedroom, and you are going to fuck me. Hard.”
“A-are are you sure about that?” Harry stutters on his words.
“We both know you didn’t come here to take me out on some date. So let’s just do this.”
Harry should have confidently responded and said, “No, Kiara, that is not why I’m here. I’m here because I actually find you attractive, and I know you have been working at the shop for about two weeks now but I have been very nervous to ask you on a date.”
However, his mouth went dry because Kiara threw off her sweater and her perky boobs sat fully on her chest.
“Kiara-”
“You know,” Kiara rests the palm of her hands on his muscular chest. Kiara has the upper hand and she sees it in the way Harry was staring at her, gaping at her actions. She loves being this bold. Upper chest bare for a man who is practically drooling over her boobs. Kiara likes to be in charge, but only for a little bit. After a while she wants to be taken care of. In bed that is. “For a man of such little words, you are talking so much right now.”
Harry grabs both of her wrist, but keeps her hands placed upon his chest. He knows his heart is racing a mile per minute. Kiara feels it and for a second she thinks to herself that there is no way she is causing this man's heart to skip beats.
Kiara stands up on her tippy toes and lets her tongue dart out to touch right below Harry’s ear suckling on the spot until it turns a nice red shade. She detaches her lips with a pop.
“You want this,” Harry whispers.
“I need this,” Kiara responds back.
“Tell me what you need Kiara.”
Harry’s right hand brushes over her bare breast, causing her to buckle a bit and stumble onto Harry’s chest.
“Hold yourself up, love, and tell me what you need.”
“I need you to fuck me,” Kiara whines.
With that, Harry holds Kiara's hips and roughly turns her away from him. Her hands went out and to grab at the granite countertop, holding herself up as much as she possibly could.
“How do you want it, hmm?” Harry whispers, quickly shrugging off his blazer and undoing a few buttons from his shirt. He begins to place wet kisses along the back of her shoulder. “I can fuck you right here, bent over the counter top. Or I can take you to the bed.”
“Here,” Kiara choked out through a moan.
“Can you handle it?” Harry teasingly asked her.
“I can handle it.”
“Can I take off your shorts?” Harry asks in a more serious tone.
“Mhmm, yes please.”
Harry shimmies down Kiara’s shorts. He takes the time to run his hands over her ass. The contact of her hot skin and Harry’s ice cold rings feels good to Kiara. She wants him to spank her, but she isn’t exactly sure what Harry is into and now she wishes she was sober enough to vocalize what she likes in bed so her needs can be met.
“Let's get a good orgasam out of you. Can I eat you?”
“Yes. God Harry, you're teasing me.”
“Not teasing,” he reassures her. “Just wanna know what you like.”
Harry gets down on his knees and opts for pushing her gray panties to the side instead of taking them off. Her core is glistening in her arousal and the smell alone makes Harry’s dick twitch in his boxers.
“Stop staring at it and-” Kiara cuts her sentence off with a yelp because Harry has attached his plump lips to her clit, giving her small kitten licks.
Kiara doesn’t really prefer to be eaten out. Most men's mouths don’t really do it for her. However, Harry is doing a very good job at keeping her legs shaking. She wants to turn around and look at him, but everytime she tries he delves deeper and deeper in her core, until she can barely hold herself up.
“M’mmm. A little higher please?”
Harry smirks against Kiara’s core because the little please she added to the end of her request tells him that she is slowly letting go of the tough exterior she puts up.
“Here? Is this good?”
“Yeah. Fuck right there please.” Kiara grips at the counter harder until her fingertips turned white.
“Been eating your veggies, huh?” Harry talks against Kiara’s core, the vibrations making her shudder. “You taste good love.”
Kiara is unable to respond because Harry is really going at it. His hands tightly grip Kiara's hips. His face is completely buried in her cunt, and he feels a slight ache in his jaw from the motions he makes with his mouth.
He continues to lick over her swollen folds, and then wraps his lips around her clit, which makes Kiara arch her back and push onto him. She is a panting mess, mouth wide open, eyes pinched together. She begins to thrash around but Harry grips even tighter at her hips.
“Stay still love.”
“I can’t,” she whined. “I’m gonna cum.”
“Why don’t you ask to cum?”
Kiara chokes on her spit slightly when Harry pulls his mouth from her pussy, and dips a finger inside of her. “Am I not entitled to an orgasm?”
“You are if you wanna be good for me.”
“Well if you're looking for a good girl I think you have come to the wrong place-”
Harry adds a second finger to her, which shuts Kiara up. “Ask nicely and you can cum.”
“I didn’t know you were gonna be so-”
“So what?��� Harry asks her.
“Dominant.”
“You're lucky I’m not spanking you.”
“What's holding you back?” Kiara challenged.
Harry gets up from off his knees, and his free hand reigns down a heavy smack on her ass.
“Ask me nicely,” Harry demands, slowly pumping his fingers in and out of her.
“No.”
Smack.
“Ask nicely Kiara. I can do this all night.”
Kiara snaps her head back to look at Harry. “No.”
Smack.
Smack.
Smack.
The three spanks that Harry had given to Kiara were much harder than the first. So hard that Harry started to see an outline of his hand print.  
It's when Harry gives her one more smack and pushes his fingers deeper into her, hitting a sensitive spot that Kiara gives in.
“Fuck, Harry please just let me come,” Kiara struggles to say with a couple tears falling from her eyes from being so wrapped up in pleasure.
“Say sorry.”
“I’m sorry. So damn sorry. Please, I'm so close.”
Harry laughed at how her personality has done a complete one eighty. She went from being a complete brat to now begging him for an orgasm. “You are?”
“Yes please.”
Once Harry feels her pussy tighten around his fingers he pulls them from inside of her. “I don’t think you are that sorry.”
Kiara let out a whimper at the loss of connection. Her legs are still shaking and she almost slipped off the counter but Harry was quick to catch her.
Harry's strong arms snaked around to the front of Kiara’s stomach, letting her stumble back into her arms. She felt Harry’s hard cock press up against her raw ass.“Easy now.”
Usually, Kiara would give Harry some witty comments, but right now she is too worked up from being so close to her orgamsm. She feels a bit fuzzy, not sure what to do next. Her core aches and all she can think about is getting off.
Her hands go down to rub at her clit, but Harry quickly smacks it away.
“That's my job tonight alright? You gonna let me fuck you? You're gonna be good so I can get you off properly.”
Kiara nods her head.
“Verbal consent Kiara.”
“Yes please.”
“Good girl.”
Harry’s smug voice echoes in her ear as he places wet open mouth kisses along her neck. Harry is really enjoying himself. She felt him smile against his neck when he started to coax soft moans out of her.
Kiara weakly pushes Harry's head away from her neck.
“Doll, are you okay? Did I hurt you?”
“No, I'm good. Can we just take this to my bedroom?” Kiara politely asks. “I think I will be more comfortable there.”
When Harry gets a good look at Kiara, he can tell he has pushed past the first layer of her tough exterior. He knows there is probably much more fight and sass in her, but right now she looks vulnerable.
“Yes of course we can,” Harry held his hand out and Kiara willingly took it as he led both of them to the bedroom.
When they arrive, Kiara sits at the edge of her queen sized bed, and Harry lets go of her hand. She whines a little at the feeling of Harry’s hands slipping away from her.
Harry chuckles at the girl. “Let me just take my shirt off darling.”
Kiara watches closely as Harry’s fingers undo the buttons one by one. His silk shirt gilded easily off his toned shoulders. He made his way to sit at the top of Kiara’s bed leaning against the headboard, and Kiara crawled on her hands and knees toward him.
“Christ,” Harry mumbled under his breath.
Harry spreads his legs wider, which allows Kiara to sit comfortably in his lap. She let her hands roam up and down his tattoos starting with the birds on his collar bone. She then notices the butterfly right above his tummy. When she places her left hand on it, tracing the wings, Harry sighs contently at her touch. It’s a comforting touch, one that he has never experienced with his one-night stands.
Harry breaks a sweat on his forehead when Kiara continues to trace his tattoos. His broad chest stops moving up and down because he begins to hold his breath. He isn’t really sure what she is doing, but it feels good. Good enough for Harry to exhale and relax into the bed.
For Harry, sex with girls usually got directly to the point. Of course, there was foreplay, but not to any extent like this.
Having someone else’s hands on your body is a part of sex. However, this feels much more intimate than that. He’s got that feeling of butterflies in his stomach when Kiara begins to run her hands all over his body. It felt like he was in high school again, having sex for the first time and being so nervous because you don’t know what to do. But in this case, the nerves and butterflies don’t come from a lack of knowledge of the female anatomy. It comes from being completely enamored by the beauty this one girl holds.
And for just a second, Harry questions if he deserves this to feel the way he feels right now. Warm and a little drunk on the feeling of love. He doesn’t love Kiara, at least not yet anyway. But he feels like at this moment, Kiara cares for him. And even if she doesn’t care for him, he wouldn’t mind existing in this false reality he has created in his head for a really long time.
Something about having his body touched in such a vulnerable way is making him feel things he has never felt in his life.
“You have a lot of tattoos,” Kiara points out, fingers still tracing his butterfly tattoo.
“Yeah, I have been collecting them over the years.”
“Which one was your first one?” Kiara asks curiously.
Harry brought Kiara’s delicate hands up to the swallows on his chest.
“These ones,” Harry’s voice shakily said. Kiara takes her index finger and begins to trace the birds.
“How old were you?” Kiara asks, keeping her eyes looking at the birds.
“Sixteen,” is all Harry says, trying to keep his past where it belongs. In the past.
“That’s young. You don’t regret any of them?”
“No, actually. I think they all tell a story. Sure, some of them are stupid, but they all got some meaning behind them.
Kiara innocently brings her hand up to his cheek, cradling his face. “You gotta tell me about them one day. You have so many.”
“Mhmm,” Harry hummed in response.
“Let’s kiss some more,” Kiara suggested, wiggling her hips in Harry’s lap to find a comfortable position.
Harry nodded his head in response letting his lips touch Kiara’s, but not yet giving in to her request. His hands find their way to her lower back, and Kiara’s hands now have made their way up to his shoulders.
“You look good. You know that?” Harry says against her lips.
Kiara now has a grin on her face and blushes at Harry as if she has never received a compliment in her life.
Kiara brushes a brown curl off of Harry’s face with her index finger, “You can’t give me compliments while I’m buzzed off of wine because you might make me fall in love with you.”
Harry smiles. “Why don’t I just fuck you like I love you?”
Harry realizes what he said and awkwardly takes his hands off of Kiara’s body, nervously running his hands through his hair.
Kiara see’s the worried look on Harry’s face, but she is just a tad bit too intoxicated to process the weight of Harry’s words.
“Or you could let me fuck you,” Kiara bodly suggests. “I just haven’t done it in a while, so you might need to take over when my legs get sore.”
Harry nods, his forehead pushed upon Kiara’s. He kisses her again, and is taken by surprise when she lightly bites on his lip. She then gives a quick kiss to the corner of the month, and then his throat. She leans over to kiss his collar bones, and Harry takes the opportunity to grab a handful of her ass.
He then slowly peels her underwear off of her. He drags it slowly past her thighs looking down at her soaking wet core.
“You’re wet,” Harry mummers into her ear.
Kiara cups Harry’s dick through his boxers, and slides them off of his hips.
Harry groans in pleasure when he feels her hand touch his hard dick that is leaking pre cum.
“Don’t get too cocky now,” her hand lazily pumps at Harry's length, which she finds to be quite impressive in size.
“Kiara, don’t forget who is in charge here,” Harry grits through his teeth.
Kiara dips her head down to lick at Harry's heavy balls, she then continues her way up to his shaft until she makes her way to his tip and suctions her lips around the pink swollen flesh.
Harry looks down at the Kiara, who is giving him those innocent eyes, as if she doesn’t have his entire dick in her mouth
“Oh fuck me,” Harrys rolls his eyes, and lets his head fall onto the headboard.
“I will. But let me suck you off first.”
Kiara passes her thumb over his dick, and kisses all around the tip. She licks him up and down before taking him into her mouth entirely, making sure to make eye contact with him.
Harry places his hand gently over Kiara’s head, asking permission to touch her. She blinks at him signaling to him that it's okay.
He took a rough grip to Kiara’s brown curls, moving her head up and down in a steady rhythm.
“That's it,” he encourages as Kiara suckles on his tip. “Fucking hell.”
She pulls her mouth from Harry's length and gives him a few sharp tugs.
“Slow down,” Harry pants. “Want to be inside of you when I come. Can you handle it?”
Kiara swings one leg around Harry’s lap, her core just inches away from Harry’s throbbing dick.
“Yeah I can.”
“Well what are you waiting for?”
Kiara slowly slides down on Harry’s dick, and his hands cling to the sides of hips, coaxing her on her way down. Harry groans at how tight and snug she feels around him.
Kiara is about halfway down when the blissful feeling starts to hit her. She tightens her grip on Harry’s shoulders biting her bottom lip.
“What's wrong? Thought you said you could handle it.”
Bravely, in one push Kiara glides right down Harry’s dick.
Harry groans with pleasure as soon as she makes it all the way down. His hands go out to grip her ass, and help her bounce up and down.
“That's it. Good girl. You like it when I call you that?”
“Yes,” Kiara responds, picking up her speed so that her tits move up and down with her.
“What do you want me to call you? I can call you my good girl, a slut, or whore. Which one do you prefer?”
“A whore,” Kiara is slightly embarrassed at what this man is doing to her, but she is so wrapped up in the lust of the moment that she really couldn’t care less.
“You're my dirty little whore, hmmm?”
Harry cranes his neck down to place a kiss on her tongue, lapping his tongue over her soft skin that smells like a floral scented perfume. He moans softly into her neck and squeezes at her fleshy hips.
“Yes.”
“Say it.”
“I’m your dirty little whore,” Out of nowhere Harry thrust his hips up to meet hers. “Fuck, Harry!”
Harry placed a wet kiss behind her hair before speaking, “How about you get on your hands and knees for me. I can fuck you like that.”
“Okay,” Kiara withdraws herself from him with ease due to how wet she was. She props herself on her hands and knees and arches her back for Harry.
Harry places a hand on her lower back. He rubs the tip of his dick over her wet folds before pushing in.
Harry moves slowly at first, testing out the waters to make sure he isn’t hurting her. Her sweet moans are only egging Harry on, and he is sure he isn’t gonna last another five minutes inside of her.
“Please Harry. Fuck me faster please.”
Harry hands grips on Kiara's fleshy love handles. It is a little tight for her liking however the pain is quickly drowned out by the intense pleasure she begins to feel.
This is a dirty shag. Harry is pounding into her at such an extreme pace that Kiara can’t even get a full moan out. Her little “uhhhh’s” and “nggggs” only encourage Harry on.
Kiara’s orgasm hits her first and it's just as blissful as she thought it would be. Legs trembling, her arms are no longer propping herself up, instead her right cheek is pushed up on the bed, and a bit of salvia is foaming out of her mouth.
“I’m gonna, oh god Kiara. Just give me a sec- fuck!”
Harry’s orgasm shortly follows and it's just as euphoric for him as it was for Kiara. This was one of the most satisfying sexual encounters Harry has had in a while and he wants to enjoy every second of being buried in Kiara’s warmth.
Harry was about to pull out from her but when he looked down at where they were connecting he realized how fucked he was.
Not only did he not wear a condom, but he most definitely came inside of her.
“Fuck,” Harry mumbles under his breath.
How could he be so careless? This has never happened to him. Harry has had quite the extent of sexual partners and he makes sure to always use a condom.
He wants to blame it on the wine but he didn’t even finish his glass.
“I need a second,” Kiara tiredly whispers, panting.
“I didn’t use a condom.”
“I’m sorry?” Kiara says still coming down from her high.
Harry runs his hand through his tangled hair nervously, “I didn’t use a condom. I haven’t had sex in almost a year though. I get tested regularly too. I’m sorry it just slipped my mind. I can run out and get you some plan B.”
“It's okay,” Kiara responds. She turns her head around to look at Harry. “Do you mind pulling out now though?”
Harry looks down at his dick, and then looks up at Kiara. “Oh yeah shit uhh.” He grabs on to Kiara’s hips and slowly pulls out of her.
“I haven’t had sex in like six months by the way,” Kiara slowly turns herself around to face Harry who has now tucked himself back in his boxers. “It could be longer honestly… it's been pretty dry here until now.”
“Yeah, same. Busy with work and what not.”
There is a moment of uncomfortable silence. Kiara has the sheets up to her bare breast, and Harry is not only taking in the raw beauty of the girl in front of him, and still beyond shocked he forgot to put on a damn condom.
“Well, I can get you some plan B. I think there is like a Target down the block from your apartment.”
“No, it's fine!” Kiara responds way too quickly. “I mean like, Trina has a stash in her car. I can steal from her in the morning. You don't have to rush out if you don’t want to. It’s not safe to drive at night, and you probably have such a long way to go.”
“You want me to stay?”
“Is that a bad thing?”
Harry shakes his head. “No...errr it's not. I would really like to stay.”
“Okay well I’m gonna pee. And clean myself up. I can bring you some water?”
“Water would be great.”
Kiara nods at him, standing up so that her white sheet is wrapped tightly around her body. She knows that there is no reason to hide from Harry. He just took her from behind and called her a whore, but Harry isn’t just any man. He is a man who looks like a greek god, and fucks like one too. So Kiara couldn’t help but be a little self conscious.
Kiara quickly comes back with two glasses of water. She has even changed into an old ratty T-shirt and a fresh pair of underwear.
Kiara hands Harry a glass and he takes a sip, “You know,” she starts, crawling into bed next to him. “If you told me you fuck like that maybe I wouldn’t have put up a fight at the cafe.”
Harry blushes, setting the glass on the nightstand next to him. “Didn’t plan this, you know. Not that I mind. Trust me, I like this.”
“I would be lying if I didn’t say I thought you were cute.”
“Oh,” Harry playfulls wiggles his eyebrows, scooting himself closer to Kiara on the bed. “Please do tell me more.”
Kiara pouts at Harry until he places a kiss on her bottom lip, another sloppy wet one on her cheek. He grabs at her sides, tickling her.
“Har- Harry! Stop, please!” Kiara begins to laugh uncontrollably. She even attempts to pull Harry’s enormous hands from her body but has no luck.
“Okay, okay,” she gives up, Harry pulling his hands off of her. “It was the whole curly hair, suit thing. I love a man in a suit, and you know you got an Americano. You have good taste in coffee.”
Harry smiles. “You make good coffee.”
Kiara hums awkwardly, not making eye contact with Harry, instead opting to stare at his mermaid tattoo with abnormally large tits.
“I like your hair too,” Harry speaks up. “It frames your face nicely. It was the first thing I noticed about you.” Harry’s ringed hands make their way to the top of Kiara’s thigh, rubbing her soft skin. “Then it was all the pins you had on your apron. You have a lot.”
“Oh. Yeah I’ve been collecting them over the years.”
“You had one that said, ‘Don’t be a damn.’ What does that mean?”
“I’m not sure,” Kiara shrugs, breathing out a relaxed sigh. “It was like my third year of undergrad. I studied abroad at the University Of Edinburgh, in Scotland and this guy who had a jewelry shop said it to me. The next day I came back he just gave me the pin and told me to always keep it with me.”
Harry smiles at Kiara with adornment, “I have family in Scotland. I’m from London though. Grew up there with my mum most of my life.”
“What brought you to New York then?”
“School then work. I went to Columbia,” Harry says, giving her the shortest answer possible. “I noticed you had it on your sweater earlier…. You know before you tore it off.”
“Shut up!” Kiara groans, striking Harry’s chest. “But yes I do go to Colombia. Just for my teaching credentials. I want to teach history.”
There is a beast of silence. “Are you sure if I stay the night? I don't want to intrude-”
“I want you to stay the night.”
Harry’s heart warms because no girl has ever said that to him. The feeling of butterflies swarming around in his tummy has come back, and he knows his cheeks are heating up in embarrassment.
“Alright.” Harry pulls Kiara’s body closer to him which makes her squeal in surprise. “Only if you keep me warm for the night.
+++
Harry is awake before Kiara.
Harry is used to waking up early for his job, and usually, he would be on his way to get his morning coffee and then head on down to the club.
However, he just can't leave the girl he just fucked last night.
Her breaths are short, and he can feel her heart thumping against his chest. She was properly attached to him, and Harry really liked it. Having her this close to him.
He takes the time while Kiara was asleep to not only watch her sleep peacefully but look at all the artwork she has displayed on her walls. There are no family pictures that Harry can spot, just a picture of her and Trina on her desk. It looks like they are at some club. Trina has a drink in her hand that looks like she is about to spill and Kiara is downing a shot.
Kiara stirs a bit in her sleep and Harry watches as she slowly blinks her eyes open.
“You're warm.” She blinks. “Do you want breakfast?” Kiara offers, nuzzling herself in the crook of Harry’s neck. “I make a really good omelet.”
Harry laughs. “Kiara I really can’t keep up with you.”
Kiara begins to innocently pepper kisses all over Harry’s neck. “What do you mean?” she pouts.
Harry groans once Kiara sucks on a sensitive right beneath his jawline. “For starters, you didn’t like me at all when we first met. Then we fucked because you claimed I was here just for sex. And now you are offering to make me an omelet.”
“What are you here for then?” Kiara presses.
Harry sighs, looking down at the pretty girl all tangled up in his arms. Harry knows exactly what he wants. He is twenty-seven and he is really looking for love. A life-long partner who he can come home to after a hard day at work. A partner who makes getting up in the morning all worth it. Someone who he can take out on dates, maybe even take to meet his brother.
He wants to take a leap of faith with Kiara. He wants to ask her on a date, however, he can’t bring himself to do that. He doesn’t want to put this girl in harm’s way because he likes her.
And it's not even about Kiara getting hurt. He would never let anything physically happen to the people he cares about in his life. It’s honestly about the hurt she would experience if something happened to him.
“I-”
Harry is interrupted by Trina barging into the bedroom.
“We will be late for the train if you don't get your ass up! You always sleep in--” Trina pauses once she realizes her best friend is wrapped up in her other best friend’s arms. “Oh fuck.” Trina points back to the door. “I’ll wait outside for you.”
“Shit,” Kiara grumbles to herself. “I forgot I had work.”
Harry watches as Kiara frantically pulls her underwear up her body. When she realizes Harry is staring at her, she turns around to slide on her black lace bra.
Harry isn’t trying to be that much of a dick, staring at Kiara while she is getting changed. It's just that her ass is littered with marks from his heavy handy, and a light bruise on her loved handles from holding her securely on his lap, while he pounded into her.
The bruises were tainted with the memory of last night, and Harry notices how every little mark told the story of their rough and passionate sex. Looking back on it Harry doesn’t know if he was too rough with the young girl. He doesn’t like that it was possible that he may have hurt her.
“You need to go,” Kiara demands, pulling her jeans on, and then her white shirt.
Harry picked up his white button-up shirt off the floor and threw it over his shoulder. “Kiara, was I too rough? Maybe you should put something on the bruises--”
“I’m going to be late for work Harry,” she snaps.
“Are you mad?”
Tears well up in Kiara’s eyes and this is very unusual for her. She never cries. She is not even sure why she is crying. She pauses for a moment not answering his questions.
“I’m fine,” Kiara answers with her back still facing away from Harry.
“You’re crying, Kiara.”
“I’m not!” Kiara yelled, throwing her hands up in the air turning around. “I- I’m just a little overwhelmed.” Kiara’s breath gets caught in the back of her throat. “I have school, and I work full time, and I’m interning at this elementary school...and that…” Kiara points to the bed. “That was the best sex I have ever had, and now I look like a complete freak.” She wipes a tear with the back of her hand. “I look like a complete freak because all we did was have sex and now I’m crying. It doesn’t have much to do with you I think. I’m just a little stressed.”
That was a complete lie and Kiara knows it. At this moment, she could care less about school or the stress of work. Its that empty feeling you have after sex knowing that this isn’t a forever thing. Harry will go back to being Harry, and she will go back to being Kiara. It is simply just sex...nothing more.
Harry gets off the bed in just his unbuttoned shirt and boxers. He tests the waters by placing a comforting hand on her back. “Is there anything I can do?”
“Just show yourself out please.” Kiara walks away from Harry’s hold, grabbing a scrunchie off her desk, and her purse. “I have to go.”
Harry doesn’t stop her. He knows that if he stops her he is gonna want to kiss her. Then he is gonna convince her to come back to bed with him, and he can’t do that. For her sake.
+++
“Are we not gonna talk about it?” Trina asks while she is driving her SUV.
Trina and Kiara usually take the subway together. It works out much cheaper for the both of them, but they can’t be late for work. Not during the Monday rush. Kiara is in the passenger seat pulling up her hair and frantically covering up a few hickies on her neck from last night. Trina is driving just a little bit above the speed limit, trying to make sure they both get there on time, and also worrying about her best friend who isn’t her usual bubbly self.
“There is nothing to talk about, other than I need some plan B,” Kiara replies dryly.
“You're joking.”
“Nope. Pass me your purse.”
Trina keeps one hand on the wheel and hands Kiara her purple purse from the back seat.
“Kiara you had sex with my best friend. Unprotected sex.”
“Exactly just sex,” Kiara shruged, digging up the pill from the bottom of Trina’s bag. “And I’m your best friend!”
“You are both my best friends!” Trina argued. “You know the poor boy actually likes you right?”
Kiara rolls her eyes. “Did he tell you that?”
“Yes! Actually, he did! More than once!”
“He is lying. I’m just a normal broke student. And him? He is a fucking rich man but he looks like a literal greek god! Trina you know I googled him. His past girlfriends are models! White, skinny blonde models. I’m not white, skinny, or blonde!”
“He was a party boy in the past!” Trina retorts. “He likes you, okay? He just has trouble communicating his feelings. I know you like him too. You just have this strange idea in your head that you are not good enough for him! Which is ridiculous.”
“It's whatever,” Kiara huffs, pooping the pill in her mouth and swallowing it, “It was a hook-up. A simple one night stand.”
“It’s okay to want something more Kiara.”
“He doesn’t want something more! It's so painfully obvious,” Kiara throws her hands up in the air.
Trina knows how stubborn her best friend is. It's why they get along so well. They both have this hot headed temperament. However, Kiara never really likes to give herself time to relax. She likes to be busy but it is clearly taking a toll on her mental health.
“Let me take you out drinking after work.”
Kiara turned her head towards her friend and smiled. “Thank you. Now we are speaking my language.”
+++
While Kiara’s working, a part of her secretly wishes that Harry would show up for his americano. She is trying her hardest to convince herself that he is not worth her energy or time, but the sex is still fresh in her mind and it doesn’t help that her body is showing evidence of what took place last night.
There is still that dull satisfying ache between her legs, the sound of Harry calling her a dirty whore plays on rewind all day. She is practically daydreaming about having sex with Harry again while making coffee.
Harry was the first man to meet her needs in that manner. Sure she has cum during sex a couple times, but it wasn’t anything mindblowing. In fact her orgasms were usually underwhelming, but with Harry he knew what he was doing. His dominance was a complete turn on.
And sure Kiara could be fuck buddies with Harry. But she thinks she deserves a little more than just casual hookups. She wants a relationship because at the end of the day, she wants to build a family. A family that makes up for her broken one.
Kiara has sat down and contemplated this before. Is it inherently selfish to want to fix her childhood trauma with a family of her own, but fuck. Can you really blame her?
+++
When Kiara gets home she quickly changes into a simple black dress. It hugs her curves nicely and it's the dress she usually pulls out when she used to go clubbing with Trina (which has come to a halt because of her pregnancy).
The subway ride to the club is filled with laughter and Trina having to help Kiara actually get on and off the train (because she pregamed at the apartment).
Once they got to the club, Trina walks up to the front of the line with Kiara.
The bouncer's eyes lit up as soon as he saw Trina, “Hi Trina. Umm, should I tell Harry you are here? James is also here too. I can let him know as well.”
“Harry is here?” Kiara questions.
Trina whispers in her ear, “Yes, this is his club.”
“I’m gonna need more drinks if I have to look at his stupid face again.”
Trina playfully rolls her eyes, “Yes, you can let James and Harry know we are both here.”
The bouncer pulls out his walkie talkie and opens the door for Trina and Kiara.
Kiara supports herself on Trina’s arm as they walk into the club, “You didn’t tell me we were going to Harry’s club?”
“I know, I thought you might put up a fight about it.”
She probably would have put up a fight about it, however she wouldn’t actually mind seeing Harry's stupid, beautiful looking face again.
The club itself is beautiful. The ceilings are covered with mirrors, and hanging down from them were stunning crystal chandeliers. The chairs are red, and glass tables are placed strategically in each booth. There is also a bar with some red stools, and a huge red door near it.
“What’s back there?” Kiara asks.
“The strip club. But we don't need to go over there. C’mon you wanted some wine, didn’t you?”
Trina and Kiara made their way to the bar and a heavily tattooed girl with a name tag that says Drew is working on the opposite side of the counter mixing drinks.
“Hey, Trina! What are you doing here? You can’t drink.”
“It’s for my friend, Kiara.” Trina gestures to her Kiara, who drunkenly waves back at Drew “She will take some wine, something sweet. I’ll just have some sprite”
Drew grabs a wine glass and puts it on the table before walking away. “Coming right up”
“James is that new guy you are seeing, right?”
“Yes. He works for Harry.”
Kiara has heard Trina mention James on multiple occasions. She even thinks he has come to the cafe a couple of times for lunch, but Kiara can’t put a name to the face. She is unsure if Trina and James are dating, but she is not sure how far she should pry. She does briefly remember Trina telling her that James does not care about Trina being pregnant. In fact Trina told her one day during their thirty minute break at work that James is just happy to be a part of Trina’s family.
“Mhmm. So Harry owns this club?” Kiara asks, taking a sip from her wine that Drew provided for her.
“Yeah. He owns a few more too. I believe it's a family business or something?”
Kiara sighs before downing the rest of her wine. “Just eat the fucking rich already.”
“Kiara? Trina?”
Kiara spins around on her chair, holding up her second glass of wine that Drew had given her and made eye contact with Harry.
He looks breathtaking. Hair neatly combed out of his face, tailored suit, ring decorated fingers that Kiara thought was repulsive, but now she can't stop thinking about how they feel against her heat.
“Trina, it's Wednesday,” Harry sternly told her, pressing two fingers to the bridge of his nose, slowly breathing in and out, trying not to lose his temper at his best friend.
“Are you not happy to see me?” Kiara says, standing up. She almost trips on her heels but Harry grabs her arm.
Kiara places her hand on Harry’s cheek. “I know you have to be happy to see me. You don’t fuck someone like that unless you hate them or love them. And who could hate me?”
“Okay!” Trina chippers up, grabbing her friend and bringing her back to the barstool. “Maybe we should get some water in you, okay?”
Harry is flustered because way too much is happening at once. Harry has told Trina multiple times that Wednesdays are not a good time to show up at the club. He has his meetings on Wednesday, and dangerous people are always floating in and out of the club talking business with Harry. He just wants to keep Trina and Kiara safe.
“Drew put all their drinks on my tab,” he tells the dark-haired bartender. “Trina, did you drive here?”
“No, we took the subway,” Trina answered.
Harry sighed frustratingly. “Okay. I'll take you two home. Just don’t leave here until I come get you.”
“Harry,” Trina starts. “I'm sure we will be fine. It’s not that big of a deal. James is here anyways--”
“Trina please.”
It's the crack in Harry's voice that caused Kiara to stop drinking her wine and look up at him.
Trina shoots Harry a look of sympathy. “Okay fine. We will stay here until you're done.”
Harry exhales the air he was holding in, a nervous habit he is still trying to break. “Okay. I will be done soon.”
“What's got his panties in a twist?” Kiara snorts as Harry walks away.
“I’m not sure actually,” Trina responds. “He is always stressed at work. I’ve been trying to get him to take a break for ages, but pulling that man away from his job is an impossible task.”
“He always seems so tense.”
Trina laughs, “Yeah maybe you can help him with that.”
“Well I see you have been helping his fellow associate...James.” Kiara wiggles her eyebrows at Trina.
Trina dramatically sighs. “Don’t even get me started on him.”
“What? I thought things were going great!”
“They are!” Trina assures Kiara. “But I’m still not sure what he wants. I’m pregnant and thirty. I really don’t want to fool around anymore. I want to settle down. The baby is coming soon and I won't have time for hookups and flings. He says he doesn’t mind that I’m pregnant, but he hasn’t said he wants a relationship with me.”
“Why don’t you just be upfront with him and ask?”
“Because I don’t want to scare him off!”
“You deserve someone who is upfront with their feelings, Trina. You are never gonna know until you ask.”
Trina sticks her index finger in Kiara’s face. “I’m not doing shit until you figure out what's going on with you and Harry.”
“Fine I’ll admit. The dick is good.”
Trina squealed. “I knew it, you filthy whore!”
“I'm just a little nervous. What if he is just hooking up with me for some weird black girl fetish? What if he is a racist?”
“I can tell you that's not Harry.”
“Am I ready for this?”
Trina takes a sip of her sprite. “I dunno. You know the answer to that question, not me.”
“Well I don’t know, and you don’t know. So that's my cue to keep drinking.”
Trina rolls her eyes and is about to tell Drew that this will be Kiara’s last glass of red wine until she makes eye contact with a man walking towards them.
“Fuck,” Trina grabs her purse then grabbed Kiara’s wrist. “Don’t talk to him okay? Just don’t look at him and maybe he will go away--”
“Trina... Haven’t seen you in a while.” The man's voice is heavy and dark. When Kiara looked up at him the first thing she noticed is that he is extremely well dressed, with a bling out watch on his wrist. “Who is the lovely lady you brought with you?”
“Leave her alone Dorian.” Trina says.
“What's your name?” The man reaches out to touch Kiara’s lower back but she flinches away.
“Don't touch me! Who do you think you are?”
He raises an eyebrow at her. “Feisty. Pretty too. You are one of Harry’s girls?”
“Excuse me? One of whose girls?”
“Are you not a dancer for the club?” the man asks in a condescending town that sets Kiara off.
“Oh hell no. You know damn well I’m clearly not stripping so what is it that you want from me?”
Trina leans into Kiara’s ear. “Kiara please leave it alone,” She grabs her wrist but Kiara quickly pulls it out of her grasp. “Let's just go.”
“No, let the girl talk Trina. She has quite a mouth on her anyway. Maybe she can put it to a much better use.”
Slap
Kiara’s hand connects with Dorian’s face before Trina could stop her. Trina knows her friend has a temper but so does Dorian. The slap slightly echoes over the music and gains a few people's attention including Drew, who stops mixing her drink and keeps her eyes on Dorian, who clenches his jaw and fixes his suit on his shoulders, trying to regain his composure.
“You shouldn’t have done that,” he mutters quietly.
“And what the fuck are you gonna… Ow!” Dorian roughly grabs Kiara wrist and drags her towards him.
He holds her hand above her head. “You don’t know who you are messing with. Do I need to show you?”
“Are you out of your fucking mind?” Kiara begins to squirm. “Let go of me before I kick you in the crotch--”
“Hmmmm. Maybe I should teach you a lesson. Don’t think Harry would mind if I borrowed one of his girls.”
“Refer to me as one of Harry’s girls one more time and I will do more than just slap you.”
“Dorian. Let her go.” Kiara’s eyes float from the man holding her wrist to Harry who is stalking up to her with a man right next to him. His voice was deep and assertive. Something Kiara never thought Harry to be other than when he was in bed.
Dorian lets Kiara’s wrist go and she stumbles back a bit towards Trina.
“Harry!” Dorian loudly greets. “I was just telling one of your whores she needs to watch that mouth of hers.”
“She is not a dancer, Dorian.”
“Oh, is she not? Such a shame,” Dorians eyes shamelessly rake Kiara up and down. “With a body like that I’m sure she could attract some clients for you.”
Kiara launches at Dornian but Harry is quick to grab her this time pulling her into his chest.
“Behave. Please,” he whispers in her ear.
“Dorian, you need to go.”
“Harry, you know better than that. Came here for my money. Come here every Wednesday to get my payment.”
“Well, you're not getting it today. Come by tomorrow.”
“Funny you say that since you know the history between me and your father--”
“I don't give a fuck about the history between you and my father!” Harry seethes stepping closer to Dorian. “You don’t see him here do you? I made you a deal. You will get your money, just not tonight. You don’t get to threaten my friends and then just demand money.”
“You don’t want to test me boy--”
“No, you don't want to test me. Not tonight. Leave.”
Dorian smirks at Harry before raising his hands up in defeat. “I’ll be here tomorrow. If you don’t have my money there will be problems.”
Harry watches Dorian walk fully out the door before turning to Trina and Kiara. “Both of you. My car now.”
“What just happened?” Kiara questions.
“Trina just take her to the car.”
+++
The car ride back to Kiara’s apartment is silent. Kiara sits in the back confused as to why Trina and Harry kept whispering to each other. A whole conversation is happening and Kiara’s trying to keep up, but she can only get bits and pieces of what the two are saying.
“I might be still drunk but I can hear you know.” That is a lie.
Harry’s eyes glance up to the rear view mirror. “Are you okay Kiara? He didn’t hurt you right?”
“No but I did hurt him. Slapped him. And if you didn’t come and interrupt I was about to kick him in the balls.” Kiara hiccups at the end of her sentence.
“She is right,” Trina agrees. “She is more of a fighter than she leads on to be.”
“Exactly!” Kiara yells. “So if you would have given me the chance I would have fucked him up.”
Harry, who was clenching his hand at the wheel during the whole drive, lets go and smiles. “I believe you Kiara.”
+++
Harry makes sure to walk Trina into her apartment safely, before helping Kiara to hers which was a challenge in itself because she can’t even walk in a straight line.
“Woah,” Harry says, wrapping his strong arms around Kiara’s waist trying to keep her balance. “How about you sit down on the bed?”
Harry helps Kiara walk into her bedroom and he slowly sits her down on her bed. Her hair is completely ruined, her dress slightly bunched up at her hips and her lips gloss slightly smudged. Harry thinks she looks beautiful. He is staring a little too long before he realizes he should help her take off her heels.
He gets down on one knee and his fingers begin to work on the claps of Kiara’s heels until she wraps her leg around Harry’s neck and pulls him closer to her thigh.
“Wine makes me horny.”
“I know,” Harry pushes himself away from her, no matter how tempting she looks, and goes back to undoing her heels. “But I think it would be smart if I get you to bed.”
“Why was that guy asking you for money?”
“Asking me anything but that.”
“Okay. Did you mean it?”
Harry slides one heel off her foot and looks up at her. “Mean what?”
“When we met.” He grabs Kiara’s other foot. “You said I was pretty. You meant it?”
Harry is silent for a couple seconds, his voice low. “Of course. Why would I be lying about that?”
Kiara shrugs as Harry glides her shoe off. “Guys are assholes. Well most guys are.”
“Mhmm. Where can I find some clothes for you?”
“Top drawer.” Kiara points at her dresser right in front of her bed. Harry walks over to get some clothes and places them on the side of her bed. “When I moved here I hooked up with this one guy from my class. I thought there was something going on between us ya know? He was nice at first. So I was gonna ask him if he wanted to go on a date because well, at that point we were hooking up. Turns out he had a girlfriend.”
“Sounds like a dick. Can I unzip your dress?”
Kiara nods her head and stands up hastily, turning around so her back is facing Harry. “I feel like I’m never good enough to be the girlfriend.” Harry listens closely as he zips Kiara’s dress slowly. Her delicate skin has goosebumps on it. When he gets all the way down to the top of her butt he pushes the dress off her shoulders, and allows her to step out of it.
“I’m good enough to hook up with. But never good enough to meet the parents or keep around longer than a couple weeks.” She turns around to face Harry, and grabs the shirt he picked out for her, throwing it over her head, and ignoring the pair of sweats he brought her, opting to stay in her underwear.
“So do you find me pretty in a fuckable way? Or do you find me pretty enough to keep me around longer than a few weeks?”
“Do you want me to answer that? Because you are really drunk, and my goal isn’t to scare you off.”
“Yes please,” she hiccups. “If you want to fuck around lets just be up front about it. Think I’ve gotten my hopes up about too many guys and I just wanna know.”
“Well I always think it's time for me to settle down,” Harry explains to her. “I’m twenty seven and my mum will not stop bugging me about it.” He laughs but Kiara stays silent. “I guess dating is just a bit confusing for me.”
“Confusing?” Kiara questions, tugging at the bottom of her shirt to make sure it is covering her butt.
“I really didn’t expect to be around this long. I’ve done a lot of stupid stuff Kiara, stuff that I really shouldn’t have done because it put my life at jeopardy. I think I never settled down because I didn’t think I was able to.”
“And what about now? Do you think you can settle down.”
Harry inhales and exhales quickly. “I’m not sure.”
“Okay.” Kiara turns her back to Harry and walks to her bed. She is definitely disappointed in his answer, but she knew she shouldn’t have gotten her hopes up.
“That doesn’t mean I don’t want to keep seeing you Kiara,” Harry quickly responds, breathlessly. “I want to take you to dinner.”
“You don’t have to pity me Harry-”
“I’m not pitying you,” Harry cuts her off. “I like you Kiara. You're a nice girl, beautiful too, and I mean that. My life can be… menacing to say the least. I like you enough not to drag you into my bullshit.”
Kiara tiredly rubs her eyes with the back of her hands. “What exactly is the bullshit?”
“It's my family business and my family… Well, they are interesting people.” That is all Harry could tell her without explicitly saying, “Instead of going into finance with my business degree from Columbia, I had to join my dad’s mafia and fix all his mistakes while he lives in a mansion, even though all I have ever wanted was to have absolutely nothing to do with the “‘family business.’”
“You seem like you don’t want to talk about it.” Kiara is now sitting with her knees up to her chest on her bed and Harry is towering over her small frame.
“No. I’m not a big fan of my past. But I want to get to know you, and you can get to know me. I’m busy with work, and sometimes it's hard for me to open up, but I’d really appreciate it if we took this slow.”
Kiara pouts. “So that means I can’t convince you to stay the night? Even if I suck you off?”
Harry smiles at her. “No.” He places a kiss on her forehead. “But I will come get you tomorrow at seven for dinner. Does that work?”
“Yes it does. Thanks for bringing me home tonight.”
“Anytime. I mean that.”
Kiara flips over to her side, hands resting underneath her head. “Drive safe.”
Harry is unsure about his life. In fact he is unsure about leaping into this with Kiara. He knows they aren’t dating, and that's good for him. He needs time to figure out his life. He knows if he wants to be in Kiara’s life, he has to pay off his fathers debt’s and get out of the mafia, or else he will never truly have the life he wants.
Right now, he can see a future with Kiara. He can see himself waking up next to her, making breakfast. He can see himself enjoying a domestic life with her.
He knows he can’t have that right now. But he sure is gonna work like hell for it. For her.
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dazz-linglight · 3 years
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INCEPTION
Pairing: Werewolf!San x Werewolf!Reader
(should I make this a series?)
Genre: AU Fluff/Smut
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Every werewolf knew that when they completed 18 they were ready to find their respective mates. Mates are made for each other, chosen by the Moon to be their permanent love. San was already 21 and had yet to find his and thinks about her everyday, asking the goddess to bring his mate soon and his wish was finally granted on his first day of the second year in college. He was just walking in when a sudden new scent caught him off guard. A strong, sweet and powerful scent in its ability to tug at something deep and primal within him giving urges he had never truly felt until this moment.
You were walking through the campus with a friend when he got hit by the strong scent of cinnamon and coffee coming from you, making him dizzy and euphoric, his heart beating faster and even faster when your eyes met his. He couldn't contain the big smile that occupied his lips, instantly being full of love while you went through the same, falling hard for him and leaving your friend to follow the path until the two of you were just centimeters apart. His scent of honey embraced you all over when he reached to touch your face, wanting to know if you were real or if he was dreaming again.
"My Luna.." When you smiled at the nickname he wanted nothing more than to kiss you and he did exactly that, smooching your cheeks first and then going to your lips, hugging you by the waist while you brought him closer by the shoulders, getting on the tip of your toes to match his height. You separate after a minute to recover the air, keeping close to each other.
"Choi San." He finally presented himself.
"Ah.. I'm ________" You said laughing softly until remembering where you were. "Oh, I have to go to class! Here, give me your number.." You took out your phone and gave it to him, he immediately typed the number and saved it as My Sannie ❤️, soon giving it back to you.
"Can I take you there?" He asked biting his lower lip.
"No, you have class too, I don't want to make you get late. We can get lunch together?"
"Yes! Okay, then you better go, then I can see you sooner." He said pulling your hand to his lips, leaving a cute kiss on your skin and then letting you go.
"See you soon, San!" You said waving at him and going back to your friend, also a werewolf, who was closer watching the whole thing. The two of you went to into the Business building, telling her everything you felt finding your mate.
|••••••••••••••••••••|
During class, San had saved your contact as My Mate ❤️ and sent messages to you, starting a game of questions to get to know you better and you got to know about him too, going back and forth with preferences, dislikes, food, family and friends and so on. At the end of classes, San told his friends and the alpha that he finally found his mate and they were happy for him, a few of them already found their mates and some of them not. On their way out of the campus, San kept looking around trying to find you but you found him first, coming from behind and covering his eyes and he smiled turning around to see you.
"Guys, this is my mate, _____." He said looking at his brothers proudly then back at you, burying his face on your neck to rub his scent on you and you waved at them.
"Hi.." You stand on his side to get a better look at his brothers, still holding San's hand and one of them laughed at San who hasn't stopped looking at you with his gold eyes.
"This is our Alpha Hongjoong, the taller ones are Yunho and Mingi, Seonghwa, Yeosang, Wooyoung and our youngest Jongho." The one who laughed was Wooyoung.
"It's funny to see hyung so whipped." Wooyoung was one of the the boys that didn't meet his mate yet, so he found funny how mates seemed hypnotized by each other.
"I bet you will be worse when you meet your mate, Wooyoung." Hongjoong said laughing at the thought, knowing Wooyoung was already clingy with the members of the pack and everybody agreed. You were happy to see that everyone in San's pack had a light spirit and good sense of humor.
"Well, let's eat? I'm starving." The youngest said between them.
"Chicken!" Yeosang smelled chicken from afar and started walking in front of them. San squeezed your hand and led you inside the restaurant.
|•••••••••••••••|
Finishing lunch you pulled at the hem of San's shirt to get his attention and he immediately looked at you, passing a hand on your shoulder and bringing you to peck your cheek.
"San, will you come home with me?" You asked him quietly, wanting to have time alone with your new found mate, which quickly accepted.
"Guys, we'll be going first." San told them already getting up from his seat and pulling your bag on his shoulder, you following after saying your byes.
"Don't forget to use protection!" Yunho said before you two were far, receiving a slap from Hongjoong and making the others snicker.
San drove you to the other side of the city where your pack belong, holding your hand while you guided him. Your fellow friends were surprised to see you with company, but were quick noticed it was your mate by the way he held you and the cute smile on your faces. Getting inside the house, the two of you left shoes and bags at the door while your inner wolf was screaming for you to pounce on him.
"We have the next 3 or 4 hours to ourselves before the girls come back.. I want to confess something before we go to my room." You said nervously picking on your fingers and San frowned, petting your hair to try and calm you down.
"You can tell me anything, baby" You lay your hands on his chest looking up to his brown eyes.
"I have plushies in my bed.." You broke eye contact to look at his broad shoulders not for long until he held your chin up to look at him again.
"No need to be ashamed for that. Wanna know why?" You nodded at his questions and he brought his face closer to your neck, whispering the next words.
"I have plushies too." He smiled looking back at your surprised face.
"Really?"
"Really, I'll show them to you anytime or even bring them here so they can be friends." He showed his dimples and you smiled too, touching his cheeks with the tip of your fingers, happy to be surrounded by his warmth.
"I'm so glad that you're here.."
"Me too, I've been waiting for so long to find you." He rested his forehead on yours and closed his eyes.
"Please mark me.." You voiced your desire before being able to control your words, your inner wolf excited to finally get into action while San's wolf was also happy to oblige to his instincts, bringing you up to wrap your legs on his waist and followed your scent around the house to find your room. He placed you down in the middle of your bed and you pulled him for a heavy kiss, trying to cease any little distance and soon San was leaning down to kiss and bite your neck, all the clothes coming off one by one until you were both naked and exposed.
"You look so perfect, love.." San kissed down your throat, collarbones, chest and everywhere he could till reaching your core, inhaling your arousal and held your thighs apart, connecting his lips onto you. Every bit of self control he had until now we're thrown out the window as he eats you out, driven by your wetness, moans and the way you pulled on his hair so deliciously. His tongue moved fast and strong, giving you waves of pleasure and he felt delighted for making you feel good. You were almost there and tapped on his shoulder, making him look up.
"San please.. I want to cum with you.." Your legs twitched and he stopped, sitting up and lifted a hand to clean his lips, licking the wetness on his fingers at the same time he stroked his hard on, getting closer to you once more and positioning you in dog style and making himself comfortable behind you on your center. He pushed in slowly to not hurt you and when he finally got it in you listened to the deep growl coming from his chest as he bottomed out and soon his pace speeding up gradually, making you get louder and louder.
"Can I?" He whispered nuzzling under your ear and you knew he was talking about the mark, wanting to hear you say it again.
"Yes, make me yours." He let out a low groan, brushing your hair out of the way and planting his fangs in the space between your shoulder and neck, creating the mark only mates could to seal the bond. It gave you both a rush of adrenaline and happiness that caused you goosebumps, your scents getting mixed in the air, sharing the warmth and fondness of each other and it made you cum faster, squirming under his hold for a few seconds as he continued to thrust in and out until he reached his own climax, knotting you and having the two of you stuck together for the next minutes.Soon he laid you down in a spoon position and pulled you in for a kiss, letting you taste yourself on his tongue.
"This is the best day of my life." He giggled a little breathless, his chest shaking against your back you smile at the feeling, scooting impossibly closer to him.
"I can't believe you're real."
"I'm very real." He squeezed your hip and you hide your face on your pillow with a laugh.
"Do you to go for a run later?" You asked curious to see his wolf form.
"Oh yeah, I bet you're the prettiest wolf ever."
"I bet it's you." You bicker playfully and San covers your face in kisses, tickling your sides.
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pretoriafics · 3 years
Text
Runaway: A Teenage Dream alternative version
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Hi! Well, I know a lot of you guys have been requesting me a part 2 of Teenage Dream (And it will come soon), but I simply had this idea. I was been addicted to daydreaming playlists on YouTube lately, and I found one who let me pretty inspired. All the links will be in the fic.
Notes: This is not Part 2 of Teenage Dream. It's just an alternative version, okay?
Derek just found a playlist on YouTube that shows him his soulmate from a faraway dimension: you. Now, he is determined to bring you to him. Word count: 1.712 Pairings: Different Dimension!Reader x Derek; Contain: It's pretty romantic, I guess; AU Soulmate Warnings: SONGFIC!!; English is not my main language <3; Inappropriate language Teenage Dream one-shot TEEN WOLF MASTERLIST
It was a cold and rainy night. Stiles and Scott just came out of Derek's loft. It was complicated to deal with them sometimes, with all that teenage stubbornness and stupidity in supernatural stuff. Without mention of the troubles they caused to Derek. Come on, they made him a wanted criminal!
His life is reduced to run away from some kind of threat to keep his survival. Derek was an eternal runaway, and he was starting to get tired of this shit. He can't even remember what home is anymore or how it is to not fear for his own life. Peace was an unknown thing for him.
Derek approaches his laptop on the table - where Scott was before. The werewolf sat on the chair in front of it, ready to turn it off, but he sees something that catches his attention. YouTube was open and in the video suggestions was a video called "a playlist for your soulmate in a faraway reality".
Well... Daydreaming playlists wasn't his thing. However, he was curious and tired. If that playlist would make him calm his nerves and relax, he would listen to it.
Derek clicks on it, and the first song fills the room: Runaway, by Aurora.
I was listenin' to the ocean I saw a face in the sand But when I picked it up Then it vanished away from my hands, down
Tired, Derek stands up from the chair and lays down on the couch. He closes his eyes, just feeling the music and all the stress running away from his body. The music, the rain outside... Yeah, it was comfy. It was... good.
I had a dream I was seven Climbing my way in a tree I saw a piece of heaven Waiting, impatient, for me, down
There, with his closed eyes, he just could hear that song and the rain outside. Suddenly the rain stops, and the music is the only sound that fills the room. The last Hale opens his eyes and finds out different things at his loft: He can't see anything outside. Everything was dark there. His loft was dark too, with weak lights and several light particles floating around the room.
What the hell?
And I was running far away Would I run off the world someday? Nobody knows, nobody knows And I was dancing in the rain I felt alive and I can't complain
It was like his loft was moved to a different place. Even with all his knowledge about the supernatural, that kind of phenomenon was new to him. He never heard anything that could seem like that. Suddenly, Derek heard a female voice singing with the music.
But now take me home Take me home where I belong I can't take it anymore
A cloud of golden dust started to unite at a specific point of the room, and you start to taking form. You were distracted, sitting in a chair with a book in your hands and a laptop close to you. When Derek stares at your laptop, he sees the exact same playlist he was hearing. Sure! Certainly was something pretty weird with that playlist. It was showing him you, a girl he never saw before. You were translucid, almost shining gold. And you were the most beautiful creature he had ever seen.
It was love at first sight.
I was painting a picture The picture was a painting of you And for a moment I thought you were here But then again, it wasn't true, down
You look up from the book with wide eyes, scared. Your eyes run to the playlist on your laptop. Well, you and Derek connected the dots on your minds before staring at each other again. Seems like the playlist in fact showed your soulmate from a different reality. A faraway one. You gave him a smile, and he gave it back to you.
"Can you hear me?" You said, looking at him.
"Yeah. Can you hear me?"
"Yeah!"
And all this time I have been lying Oh, lying in secret to myself I've been putting sorrow on the farthest place on my shelf
Derek gave a step forward to you, memorizing each detail of you.
"What's your name?"
"(Y/N). Yours?"
"Derek."
Your eyes got widen again. Oh, holy crap.
"Hale?" You asked in urgency. He looks at you, surprised.
"Yeah. Do you know me?"
"You are one of my favorite fictional characters. You are literally part of my teenage."
Oh, wow. So, he was a fictional character in another reality! It was creepy and funny at the same time. Derek stares at the laptop of yours, looking at the title of that playlist.
A playlist for your soulmate in a far-away reality.
Hm. He stares at you.
"So..." Derek cross his arms in front of his chest, looking at you "Seems like the part of your teenage is your soulmate in a far-away reality. Do you think this is accurate? Because I think it is."
You felt your cheeks burning, and your stomach froze.
"I think it sounds right."
And I was running far away
Would I run off the world someday?
Nobody knows, nobody knows
And I was dancing in the rain
I felt alive and I can't complain
You gave him a smile, the most beautiful one he had ever seen. Wanting to feel your skin, Derek reaches out his hand on yours, trying to touch you. However, his fingers pass over on your skin. He can't touch you. Upset, he let out a long sigh.
"I think you're too far away."
You are upset as well. You always felt things when you looked at him on your TV, but you always thought it was just a crush that everyone has in some fictional characters. But now you know that, no, it wasn't just a silly crush on a fictional character. Deep in your subconscious, you knew he was destined for you.
"What can we do to solve this?"
"I don't know, but I'll find a way."
Derek looked at each book and talked to every witch he knew. He heard an ancient legend with one of them, that said that, sometimes, the universe opens a bridge to different dimensions. Many werewolves find out their soulmate this way. That playlist was a cosmic event, the universe trying to unite two lost souls.
Then, he finally found a book. An ancient and rare one.
He almost didn't sleep lately. Eager to stay with you, Derek couldn't help but translate each page until he finally could find a way to bring you to him. Sometimes, he was listening to that playlist on YouTube just to see you. You were almost melting in pure love just seeing how hard he was working to stay with you. Runaway by Aurora was filling the loft.
But now take me home Take me home where I belong I got no other place to go Now take me home Take me home where I belong I got no other place to go Now take me home Take me home where I belong I can't take it anymore But I kept running for a soft place to fall And I kept running for a soft place to fall
"Do you found out something?" You asked, looking at him with your eyes full of hope. Runaway by Aurora was filling the loft.
Derek denied, flustred.
"Nothing yet."
"Maybe It's impossible..."
He swallowed hard. Stubborn, he denied. He can't believe it was impossible. There's a way, and he was sure about it! It should have.
"No. It should have a way to bring you."
There, sat at his chair and translating that book, Derek was determined. He simply can't lose you, his peace point. He belongs to you.
And I was running far away Would I run off the world someday?
And then, Derek finally found it! Seems like a simple spell to him. All he needs to do is to pronounce the words with the bridge - which means the playlist - open. He looks at you with a shine of hope in his eyes.
"I think I found it."
Oh Gosh. You felt your stomach froze in anxiety.
"Are you sure?"
"It's my best bet." His green eyes stare at you. "Are you sure you want to stay here? With me?"
You gave him a gentle smile while holds your own hands, playing with your fingers.
"Yeah. I mean, I'm just tired of running from all the shit around here."
He gave you a smile as well. Derek knew that feeling. Hoping that the spell works, he stands up from his chair with the book in his hand. With the best Latin he knows, he pronounces the words of the spell, and you feel shivers all around your body. The sparkly dust seems to be sparkly and luminous than ever, and the darkness outside gives place to the view of the streets.
But now take me home Take me home where I belong I got no other place to go Now take me home Take me home where I belong I got no other place to go
Your body was losing the golden shine, and stepwise the natural tones of your skin were being revealed. Derek's loft was showing itself for you, and you felt your body starting to get warm again. And, done: You was now at his loft. Physically. His voice got silenced, and the only sound you could listen to was Aurora's voice on Runaway.
Derek couldn't believe you were really there, in front of him. Almost without air on his lungs, he put the book on the table and reaches his hand on yours. A large smile was born on his lips when he felt your skin. You felt your cheeks burning at his touch. Wow. You can't believe this!
He pulls you close to him by embracing your waist, and all you could do is smile. You rest one of your hands on his chest while the other one gives him a gentle caress on his face. Without contain himself anymore, Derek puts a soft kiss on your lips. And it felt so right.
It felt like the place where he belongs to.
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kiki-shortsnout · 3 years
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Intimacy prompt 34 and 37 for IronStrange pleaze?.
Oh I think Have I Ever is my favorite work of yours in intimacy because there's no way those 2 will get together without being dramatic first haha XD
Hey! Thank you for the ask, and thank you for the compliment, I'm happy you're enjoying these prompts!
Whew! I'm making some progress on these prompts!
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‘Do you regret it?’
Tony pulled up his sunglasses so he could give him the full effect of his unimpressed stare.
‘Am I supposed to pluck the context out of thin air, Strange? Regret what?’ he asked, flicking his sunglasses back into place, and sinking his feet further into the scorching sand. He heard the breath leaving the wizard’s lungs as he sat up on the blanket, the shift of bare skin across the fibers of it.
‘No, because you know exactly what I’m talking about.’
Groaning dramatically, Tony flung his arms out behind him to support his weight as he leant back, palms stinging from the heat of the sand, glorious, smoldering heat. He didn’t answer straight away, keeping his gaze locked on Morgan leaping through the frothy waves, Peter a few seconds behind her, just as excited.
‘No. No, I don’t regret it.’
His divorce with Pepper wasn’t something he liked to talk about, but their relationship was well past the point of idle chitchat. Hours wedged together on an alien spaceship would do that. They’d stared at death incarnate together, had given everything they could to stop Thanos, and that formed a connection between people, regardless of their backgrounds.
Magical or not.
Tony sat up, inching closer to the shade Stephen had refused to leave the whole time they’d been at Malibu, and taking a moment to eye up his milky white skin. The man looked like he could get sunburnt in the shade. Using magic to tilt the umbrella so Tony could share, Stephen scooped up the seashells Morgan had found earlier, gleaming treasure she had entrusted him with their safekeeping.
It made him smile, how seriously Stephen treated her, and it made an unusual sensation stir in his chest, a feeling he hadn’t felt in a long time, not since he’d first started dating Pepper.
‘I think she loved the idea of me, what I could be, what I would’ve been if not for Iron Man,’ Tony said suddenly, watching his kids screech as the Cloak chased after them, shaking water from its fabric, indicating it’d been dunked in saltwater.
‘I wanted to be that man for her, I really did, and she’s still one of the most important people to me, not because she’s the mother of my child, but because I love her. I always will, just not in the way she deserves.’
‘Tony, this wasn’t an excuse for you to start tearing your self-esteem into ribbons,’ Stephen scolded.
‘I’m not, I’m answering your question. I knew, we both knew as soon as I leapt aboard the alien doughnut that it was over. We tried to work past it, all of us left behind in the five years you guys were gone tried to cobble our lives back together, but it…’ Tony sighed, scooping up a handful of sand and gazing at the millions of sun-kissed gems, fragments that created a whole.
‘I get it, I suppose it’s hard to love a hero, it’s hard to understand…unless you’re one yourself.’
‘I don’t blame her for wanting me to give up Iron Man, I get it, I just…couldn’t. I tried, but as soon as you came to me about Thanos, I knew I had to go…I didn’t stop to think about how it might affect her, jumping on another suicide mission.’
Tony reached over Stephen’s ridiculously long legs to reach his can of lemonade he’d left there earlier, grimacing at the warmth of the liquid, but grateful for the way it soothed his dry throat.
‘What about you, asshole, you got a special lady?’ Tony asked, deflecting the conversation.
‘Nope, no special someone,’ Stephen stressed the last part, watching the kids in the water and inhaling deeply.
Now that Tony didn’t know. He should’ve really, after the flirty little wink he’d given when they’d first met, but Tony had chalked that up to the man showing off his impressive skills. Tony wasn’t arrogant enough that he couldn’t admit Stephen had an extraordinary repertoire of skills, and the man could fight…but he didn’t have to verbalize it.
Strange had a big enough head already.
‘You were right, this…this was needed,’ Stephen said, waving a hand at the beach, indicating the this. Tony was distracted by the tremble in his fingers, the slender scars across his fingers and the back of his hands, revealing the trauma, the pain he must have felt having pins in his bones.
He could understand that, the story scars left behind, the proof of their hubris.
‘Well, I promised you both, didn’t I? Once we got back to Earth and everyone was saved, we were going to have a holiday. No outer space travels, no insane alien overlords trying to destroy us. Just us, the sun, sea and warm lemonade,’ Tony held his up in a toast, grinning as Stephen grabbed his own can and clinked the side of it.
Morgan had stopped running in the sea and was now digging a hole in the sand with her bare hands, watching as the tide came in and filled it, trying to create a moat of sorts. Lifting her head, Tony watched the briny breeze tease her salt-crusted tangles away from her face. His love for her startled him at times, how he could love another being as much as this. He loved Peter too, the kid had been his driving force to discover the trick behind time travel, and he’d risked everything to bring him home.
Thinking about them both made other feelings surface too, black oozing things that he tried to suppress, negative feelings about why his own father couldn’t have felt the same, if one day he would treat Morgan and Peter with the same cold-hearted disregard.
‘Tony, hey douchebag, you alright?’
The sun overhead burnt his gaze gold as he lifted his eyes, leaving him dazed and blinking back tears.
‘Yeah, sorry, I’m good.’
‘You drifted away there…anything you want to talk about?’ Stephen asked, his tone careful, trying not to probe.
‘Nah, Doc, just my daddy issues rearing their ugly head again.’
Stephen looked at him then, his aquamarine eyes glowing from the sun’s reflection, and Tony felt like his gaze was burning back the layers he swathed himself in, piercing his body and reading his mind. He couldn’t explain it, but he’d always had the sense Stephen knew more than what he revealed, that he could see things in the fabric of the universe that Tony was blind to.
Fourteen million futures, each a glimpse of a possibility, how many more of them were out there? What else had Stephen seen?
‘Tony, you’re a wonderful parent,’ Stephen argued.
‘How would you know!’ He regretted the snap, knowing it was part of his self-defense mechanism, but Stephen didn’t know him that well yet to recognize it for what it was, and he opened his mouth to apologize when he suddenly found a trembling hand across his mouth.
‘Because I’ve watched you with them. I saw you with Peter on the ship, the sheer horror in your eyes when you thought you’d brought him to his death, I could literally hear your brain trying to think of a way to send him home. With Morgan, Tony, you worship the ground she walks on, you’re caring, attentive…’ Stephen trailed off, a slight redness to his cheeks as he let his hand fall.
Tony went to warn him that he was burning from the sun when he caught sight of Stephen’s gaze fixed on his lips. Feeling daunting, he let the tip of his tongue come out to wet his bottom lip, suppressing his laugh when he saw Stephen’s blush deepen, his gaze turning back towards the sea.
He could do one of two things here. Ignore what had just happened and go back to the carefree attitude they were enjoying at the beach, or address the issue and explore the possibilities of what it could mean for them. Despite how quickly his brain tended to work, the way it could create possible scenarios and see them through in order for him to select the best one, Tony found himself hesitating.
‘When you said it’s hard to love a hero…were you referring to yourself?’ Tony asked.
Stephen didn’t answer for a moment, his gaze now on the Cloak shielding the kids from the worst of the sunshine, its collar dipping down as it tried to examine the castle Peter was building beside Morgan’s moat.
‘It’s not hard to love you,’ Stephen answered, his words nearly lost in the breeze.
‘I’ll have you know it’s near impossible to love me,’ Tony joked, his mouth moving faster than his brain. ‘I’m a mess, I forget about people when I’m inventing, I’ll always put the safety of Earth before my partner-’
Stephen’s mouth on his made his ramblings stop, the touch of shaking fingers on his jaw felt like wind brushing over sunburnt skin, blistering and soothing in equal measure.
‘It’s because of those things that I like you,’ Stephen murmured against his lips. ‘It’s not the idea of you I love, Tony Stark, I know who you are. Fourteen million versions of you.’
Despite the surprise he felt at this revelation, the clench in his gut from the anticipation of what this could mean, Tony smiled against his lips, leaning closer.
‘Sorry I didn’t ask,’ Stephen whispered across his mouth. ‘Can I kiss you again, Tony?’ His free hand covered Tony’s on the sand as the other continued to sweep across his jawbone, down to his throat and back again.
‘I could be persuaded,’ Tony agreed with a laugh, pretending to fight off Stephen’s tongue invading his mouth, falling back to the ground dramatically. ‘Why, Doctor Strange, I didn’t know you had it in you!’ he mock gasped, wriggling away from Stephen’s lunge, and getting to his feet as he scrambled down to the water.
‘Prepare to eat seawater, Stark,’ Stephen growled from behind him, giving chase.
He’d never seen himself in this position five years ago, hadn’t been able to see past the frigid metal walls of the doughnut ship as he hurtled forward on his suicide mission, but he was glad events had led him here. Looking over his shoulder at Stephen’s skin gleaming in the light as he pelted after Tony on the beach, he screamed for Morgan to save him, cackling as she ordered the Cloak to stop the Sorcerer Supreme.
This wasn’t where he saw his life at all, divorced, a beautiful daughter, an all but adopted mutant child, a sentient Cloak and a potential wizard boyfriend, but he was happy.
For the first time in years, he could say with complete honesty that he was content with his life.
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astradrifting · 3 years
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This is kind of inspired by this recent ask I sent to @esther-dot about Jon’s characterisation and Jonsa shippers’ apparent disregard for it, because it made me think of another part of Jon’s characterisation that is really integral to who he is. Mainly, that Jon really loves his brothers. Especially Robb. His rival and best friend and constant companion. Jon envies him, competes with him, buried a formative traumatic memory where he was deeply hurt by him... but ultimately loves him. Complex relationships with his brothers, both the Starks and his Night’s Watch brothers, are a running theme in Jon’s chapters.
Speaking of Jon’s brothers...
Aegon VI and Robb have a lot of potential parallels, actually. The “Young” moniker, red-haired counselors who are also their parents, trained to be the heir to a great kingdom from a young age, the barely younger half-brother Jon borne of their father’s dishonour of their mother… one that they might both have a good relationship with despite that?
The show tried to play with Jon ‘accepting’ his Targaryen lineage through the jonerice romance, very unconvincingly because it was simultaneously undermining it at every opportunity, in what was maybe a half-assed attempt at Pol!Jon (”They’ll all come to see you for what you are” isn’t anything but a threat in all contexts).
Jon will ultimately choose the Starks over everything else, that’s not really a question. But if Jon were to genuinely connect with another Targaryen, it’d likely be easier for him to find kinship with a half-brother than with an aunt - he has a basis for positive relationships with trueborn half-brothers, while the only aunt figure he’s ever known about is a) long dead and b) actually his mother. I think it’d both make more sense and be more compelling for GRRM to leverage Jon’s existing complex relationships with brotherhood by having him interact with and build a relationship with Aegon, than a rushed and out-of-character romance with Dany. 
Jon also is already primed to believe that Aegon is the real deal, that he was saved as a baby, because he’s already done the exact same thing himself - he swapped out a baby of royal blood who was in danger for a common-born boy, and then sent him halfway across the world for safety (side note: if Septa Lemore is Ashara, and if the baby was actually Ashara’s son as theorised here by @agentrouka-blog, that would just strengthen the parallel, because it would be his body double’s mother caring for him, as Gilly has to do for Mance’s son).
They’re definitely going to come into conflict first - politically, Jon will likely be in a position of power in the North by the time they meet, maybe as the KitN through Robb’s will or regent for Rickon, and probably will fight for Northern independence, while Aegon is fighting to be king of the Seven Kingdoms, not 6. Personally, it will be hard to get past the fact that Jon is the direct result of Rhaegar dishonouring Elia, plus that the Kingsguard who should have been protecting her were all stationed in Dorne, guarding Jon’s mother (in whatever capacity). But these interactions, a conflict and eventual friendship/brotherhood between them, would all be a lot more layered than jonerice can really offer. If a relationship between Jon and Dany was truly all that GRRM has been building up to, then there would have been no need for R+L=J - it adds nothing to that storyline, it doesn’t even make it a forbidden romance, because aunt-nephew is hardly the worst incest the Targaryens have engaged in.
It’s almost inevitable that Da*nerys is going to kill Aegon VI/Young Griff in the books, likely by burning him with dragonfire, in the Second Dance of the Dragons. The weird Dragonpit meeting in the show was very contrived, but it does make sense for Dany to meet the ruler on the Iron Throne at least once in a semi-peaceful context. In the show, she used her dragons only to intimidate Cersei, but she didn’t have a personal grievance with her. Aegon is in much more danger during such a meeting. After all she will think he is a pretender, and she doesn’t much care for the rules of safe conduct, as she showed to the envoys from Yunkai.
Dany shrugged, and said, "Dracarys."
The dragons answered. Rhaegal hissed and smoked, Viserion snapped, and Drogon spat swirling red-black flame. It touched the drape of Grazdan's tokar, and the silk caught in half a heartbeat. 
[...]
"You swore I should have safe conduct!" the Yunkish envoy wailed.
"Do all the Yunkai'i whine so over a singed tokar? I shall buy you a new one... if you deliver up your slaves within three days. Elsewise, Drogon shall give you a warmer kiss." She wrinkled her nose. "You've soiled yourself. Take your gold and go, and see that the Wise Masters hear my message."
(ASOS, Dany IV)
"Ah, there is the thorn in the bower, my queen," said Hizdahr zo Loraq. "Sad to say, Yunkai has no faith in your promises. They keep plucking the same string on the harp, about some envoy that your dragons set on fire."
"Only his tokar was burned," said Dany scornfully.
(ADWD, Dany VI)
So Dany will burn the Blackfyre pretender, and everyone will be happy and cheer to see the rightful queen, the last Targaryen, Slayer of Lies, Breaker of Chains, Insert-The-Million-Other-Titles-Here. Right?
Except how would she prove that he’s an imposter? She can’t exactly roll up with an Alt Shift X video pointing out that Illyrio has said some weird things about Aegon. Is Varys going to have an attack of remorse and explain his whole plot, complete with Blackfyre family tree? Or maybe she’ll explain that she went on a vision quest in Qarth and Aegon totally matches up with the vague symbolism that a bunch of drugged up warlocks told her before she set them on fire?
I don’t think it’s going to matter if Aegon is fake or not, and we might never find out either way. The mystery of his identity isn’t his main narrative, and all of his significance to the story and to multiple other characters is removed if he’s proved to not be Aegon VI. Him being proved fake would just make this plotline a weird, unnecessary digression on Dany’s journey to being the righteous and true queen, his death just another #girlboss moment for her. That’s definitely going to be her perception of it, but once she reaches Westeros we won’t have to rely on only her POV of her actions. History is written by the winners, and no one’s going to miss that it’s a lot more convenient for Dany if the boy with a stronger claim than her turns out to have been fake all along. Arianne and the Dornish are definitely not going to take it lying down, and neither is Jon. He’s not going to fall in love with the woman who murdered his brother, especially by burning him alive. ADWD has plenty to say about how much he hates death by fire.
“Men say that freezing to death is almost peaceful. Fire, though … do you see the candle, Gilly?”
She looked at the flame. “Yes.”
“Touch it. Put your hand over the flame.”
Her big brown eyes grew bigger still. She did not move.
“Do it.” Kill the boy. “Now.”
Trembling, the girl reached out her hand, held it well above the flickering candle flame.
“Down. Let it kiss you.”
Gilly lowered her hand. An inch. Another. When the flame licked her flesh, she snatched her hand back and began to sob.
“Fire is a cruel way to die. Dalla died to give this child life, but you have nourished him, cherished him. You saved your own boy from the ice. Now save hers from the fire.”
(ADWD, Jon II)
Funnily enough, the same fire as a kiss imagery from Dany burning the envoy’s tokar appeared there too, also used as a threat. 
If he is not a kinslayer, he is the next best thing. [...] What sort of man can stand by idly and watch his own brother being burned alive?
(ADWD, Jon IX)
So Aegon’s death is not going to be a triumphant victory for Dany, after which everyone proclaims her the true queen. It’s likely to just solidify opposition to her, from every corner of Westeros. If it happens during a summit or negotiation, it’d be even more of a tragic parallel to Robb and the Red Wedding; the young king murdered off of the battlefield, at an event where he was promised safe conduct. Featuring Dany in the role of Roose Bolton and Tywin Lannister. Tywin’s already died a very undignified death, and Roose Bolton looks to be on his way too.
I think the tragedy of Aegon’s death would also hit harder if we see it through Jon, as a main POV, or at least the aftermath of it. Jon was integral at the Dragonpit meeting after all, and probably would be at a peace summit or negotiation between the leaders of Westeros and the invading force.
In ASOS, there’s a curious lack of Jon’s reaction to Robb’s death. We see his initial reaction to Bran and Rickon’s supposed deaths when he gets back to Castle Black, but he doesn’t even know about Robb’s death until Stannis arrives to defeat the wildlings, and we’re not shown the moment he’s told about it. He barely even thinks about it, not even a mention until he meets with Stannis on top of the Wall:
“Your brother was the rightful Lord of Winterfell. If he had stayed home and done his duty, instead of crowning himself and riding off to conquer the riverlands, he might be alive today. Be that as it may. You are not Robb, no more than I am Robert.”
The harsh words had blown away whatever sympathy Jon might have had for Stannis. “I loved my brother,” he said.
(ASOS, Jon XI)
And that’s literally all we get that is specifically about Robb’s death - the rest of Jon’s chapters, his guilt and grief is about the loss of all his siblings, and the idea of stealing Winterfell from them. It doesn’t really make sense for him to not think about it at all, considering how close they were. This reminds me of how he has a non-reaction to Sansa’s marriage to Tyrion as well, as talked about in this post by @agentrouka-blog. Part of this could be Jon’s tendency towards denial and suppression of all his feelings, but it also points to GRRM explicitly obscuring his reaction - perhaps because he’s going to explore it in the wake of another brother dying a very similar death? One that this time he’ll be there to witness?
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carelesscreativity · 3 years
Text
NightKiller Broken Bones w/ Uncorrupted!Nightmare for LateNightBarista: Commission For Ko-Fi
••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
(SFW, Blood[?], Angst, Fluff)
It was worse than usual. Usually, when Nightmare had a bad day, the castle would feel electrified and tense. Going out into the hallway or to the kitchen was a risk. Nightmare would be near delirious and attacking anything that seemed even remotely threatening. The gang knew that Nightmare couldn't help it. When he was having a bad day, Nightmare's past memories were kicked into full gear and he would be drowning in old pain. Trying to talk to him was out of the question and trying to touch him was a suicide mission. They usually all just hid. But today seemed different.
The castle held the same charged feeling, but none of them had heard anything. There was no screaming. No breaking of furniture. No feverish rambling about not wanting to be touched or seen. Nightmare hadn't even left his room. It was quiet and there was a heavy aura of pain surrounding the castle like a thick smog, slightly choking each of them. Killer couldn't even focus on sharpening his knife in his own room. His hand wasn't steady enough and he had to give up before he permanently fucked up the blade.
It had been almost four hours since the feeling had settled over the castle. Nightmare usually started his reign of destruction and terror as soon as he woke up. Killer knew that, if he was wrong, he would be risking quite possibly all of his limbs. But he was the boss' right hand. So that meant he had to look out for him. Or something like that. He hopped down and teleported before his feet even hit the floor. He landed in the hallway right outside Nightmare's room. He paused. He couldn't hear anything from inside and it was still eerily quiet. He slipped his knife back up his sleeve and paused. He raised his hand and for once in his life, Killer actually knocked.
He waited a few moments. The aura wasn't becoming any more charged. His target soul gave an uneasy waver. Killer's brow furrowed and he knocked again, a little louder. "Boss??" He called, knowing he had a strong enough voice to carry through the door. There. He heard a small shuffle and the faintest hint of a sharp inhale. Killer furrowed his brow and moved a little closer to the door, listening. He could just barely hear raspy breathing. "Boss, I'm coming in." It was more of a warning than anything. It was also Killer signing off on his death wish if Nightmare decided to freak out.
He turned the knob, only to find it locked. He sighed and teleported inside, disregarding the door completely. The aura of pain was thick in the room. Every negative feeling was swirling around like fumes and Killer gave a momentary tremble. The breathing was louder. It was practically a death rattle, but it kept going and for a split second, Killer felt a small pinprick of fear that Nightmare really was dying. The thought made him ache in a way he couldn't describe. He had yet to turn around and face the bed, where he could hear the breathing coming from. "Boss. I'm gonna turn." He said, bracing himself.
He wasn't even sure what he was bracing himself for. He turned and the first thing he became aware of was the staining. Black stains were spattered across the walls and leaked into the carpet around the bed. And good stars, the bed. The bed was bleached black, all hints of the dark purple sheets gone. The thing on the bed caught Killer's attention and it shook him to his skeletal core. He managed to actually focus. The monster in the middle of the corruption was unmistakably a skeleton.
But the only parts that seemed to be connected were the head and the torso. The lower half had been broken off at the spine and all of their limbs were completely shattered off as well. The remains of a shredded purple tunic somewhat covered their upper half, but not enough since Killer could still see what was left of the ribcage. Any ribs that were still there were cracked or dangling. Regardless, the ribcage still moved up and down with each breath. There was a dented, stained and lopsided crown on their head that looked like it might've once been gold.
Black liquid was freely pouring out of every crack and orifice on their body, Killer able to tell how much of a struggle it was for them to breathe around it. The limbs were splayed around them and Killer could tell that some pieces were missing. A couple fingers and toes. He finally focused on their head. The entire left side of it was busted open in a wound that would put Horror's to shame. An eyelight was fixed on him in the other socket, muddled violet and cyan. The second Killer met their gaze, he felt a shockwave straight through his body to his soul.
His soul snapped into an inverted heart and his vision became crystal clear as his eyelights flared to life. He vaguely recalled hearing something about this form. Everyone knew the story of Dreamtale. He could still see bruises on those stained bones. He was snapped back out of his thought by a wheezing, violent cough. He winced as something snapped and he saw one of the other's ribs break off and fall, becoming dust against the bedsheets. Based on why he could barely see underneath the taters of the tunic, Killer didn't want to guess what the other's back looked like.
His eyelights moved up to the meet the other skeleton's once again. The corruption looked like it had unpeeled and melted around them. Killer didn't say anything at first because he needed a moment to piece everything together. It was a given that Nightmare was blind on his left side, but he hadn't quite realized the extent. Sometimes, he'd catch Nightmare stumble randomly while walking or in the middle of battle and, seeing his broken legs, it made sense to Killer.
The black-eyed skeleton could also see the way Nightmare's palms were cracked and he was simply missing quite a few fingers and the boss' occasional difficulty with physically grasping and holding things was so much clearer. Everything was so much clearer. Killer started to slowly move over. "Boss." The word alone seemed to make Nightmare flinch. He wasn't. He wasn't Boss. He couldn’t be. Not like this. Never like this. Everything hurt and his pain had amplified six times over once Killer had seen him. He hadn't wanted anyone to ever see him in this form. He could only breathe though, completely useless to speak. Killer's shoes squished along the carpet as he got closer, finally stopping next to the bed.
He was on his blind side, the bastard. Nightmare still remembered the origin of that wound like it was yesterday. He recalled vaguely the goop beginning to spill out of his eyesocket at a frightening rate. It hadn’t been too alarming at first. He hadn't been ready for the corruption to literally explode out the side of his skull in a way that felt like he'd been shot from the inside out. He was yanked out of his memories with a sharp inhale as he felt the slightest shift in the bed. He managed to turn his head, his neck creaking a little to see that Killer had picked and begun to fuse the broken pieces of his left arm back together. What was he doing??
Nightmare managed to make a questioning noises and Killer, forever on the same page as him, glanced up. "What's it look like? Putting you back together." He replied to Nightmare's unspoken question. Nightmare stared at him for another few moments. Killer kept glancing up at him before sighing. "No, I don't think any less of you, okay? You don't have to keep looking at me like that. I won't tell a soul." Killer was always so hard to read. His emotions were always so faded and while it helped in battle against Dream, it didn't help with complicated conversations like this.
But Killer's soul was inverted right now, which meant... Hesitantly and painfully, Nightmare probed at Killer's emotions. The slight brow raise signaled that Killer could tell was he was doing, but he wasn't going to stop him. Nightmare could sense truth. He could sense truth and trust and devotion and... Nightmare didn't realize he was shaking until he felt Killer's hand give the lightest touch over his sternum to still him. Nightmare was crying. It would be difficult to see his tears through the black liquid running down his face, but Killer had always been a perceptive son of a bitch.
Nightmare continued to stare at Killer as he worked on fusing his broken, battered body back together. Where was it? Where was the amusement? The disappointment?? The pity??? Every emotion Nightmare would've expected from Killer simply wasn't there and all he could sense was his devotion, his respect and his admiration for him. There was another feeling. One that Nightmare could barely recognize, but didn't want to acknowledge. Not yet, at least. He furrowed his brow, twitching slightly at the pain that it sent through his skull. He continued to stare before Killer glanced up. "Deep breath." Nightmare did so, but still whimpered as Killer popped his arm back into the socket. "There we go..." Nightmare could feel soft pulses as Killer sent soothing magic through it. "Boss."
The title made the invisible smog of pain in the room worse, so Killer took a breath and tried again. "Nightmare." The broken skeleton opened his eye and looked at him. "I don't know how you do it..." He moved to his other side and Nightmare felt a little more relaxed since he could see him better. He watched Killer pick up the other arm and get to work on it. "You... live like this... and still manage to be everything I admire. I've seen you fight amazing battles and this was the kind of body you were working with underneath?" He gave a soft scoff of amazement. "Unbelievable... You’re truly amazing.”
Nightmare really didn't know what to do for a moment. All he could sense was truth and it was overwhelming him. He wanted to cover his face and he managed to shift his reattached arm just a little. Killer seemed to notice immediately and reached over him, gently placing a hand on his arm as a gesture to keep it still. "You don't need to hide from me." He said softly. Nightmare made a weak noise. If he could blush, he would've. Killer finished with his other arm and stood up. "Deep breath." Nightmare did so, still unable to stop the sharp cry of pain as Killer reattached it.
Once again, he relaxed into the soothing pulses Killer gave. After another moment, Killer reached out and flicked the tatters of his tunic. “Probably can’t take this off of you all the way without fucking something up, but you mind if I start working on your ribs?” Nightmare didn’t answer for a moment and Killer blinked. “I could also start on your legs, but that would mean cutting open what’s left of your pants.” Nightmare gave a weak huff and Killer nodded. “Ribs it is, then.”
He pushed the fabric out of the way and Nightmare nearly started crying as he felt the pain slowly beginning to lift away into dull aching as Killer’s magic began to spread through him. He screwed his eye shut and kept his head turned away. He inhaled shakily as he felt a hand slip under his cheek and he managed to look back at the other. Killer had his other hand on his sternum. “I’ll fix you up. Nightmare... if you were able to do what you do with a broken body, imagine what you could do with a mended one? Stars, you’d be unstoppable.” Nightmare blinked before managing a very small, weak smile. He wanted to laugh, but he was sure that would fuck up whatever Killer was doing.
Killer chuckled, rubbing his thumb over his cheek bone at the sight of that little grin. “You can relax a little. It’ll be a while.” He watched as Nightmare closed his eye and tipped his head into his hand. Killer’s grin had already returned in response. He kept soothing and healing. It would take a bit, but for Nightmare, he had magic to spare and all the patience in the world.
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