#for like two days then i’ll get another idea
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the styles' nanny: part two
Summary: Harry finally realizes his mistake, but is it too late? Featuring a strange encounter with Jamie’s mother, another sad drinking session and an unfiltered conversation that changes everything.
Pairing: plussize-nanny!y/n + older-singledad!harry
Word-count: 10.2k
Warnings: age gap (13 years), mentions of alcohol and drinking, kissing, mentions of sex
here’s part one!
A/N: guys!!! It’s been three months!!! I hope you haven’t completely lost interest in this story :( I’m sorry I’ve kept you waiting for so long, I just didn’t expect so many things to come up (plus somewhere along the way I lost motivation). I also hope you enjoy this second and (at least for now) last part. No smut, but maybe in a blurb/oneshot of some kind? Anyway thanks for waiting and happy reading!
—
I’m resigning. I will stay until we find a replacement but not longer than necessary. I thank you for your generosity during my time working for you, but I’m ready for a fresh start as I think it’s what would be best for me right now.
I’ll see you soon,
Y/N
That was the text Harry had received at 11am, just one hour ago. He’d called profusely, probably ten times in total, and sent out a pathetic amount of text messages that had all gone ignored and unanswered.
Harry had lashed out— he could see that now; he’d been horribly unfair and he had taken advantage of Y/N’s inability to express herself in situations of distress. Harry’s worst trait was his short-temperedness and while he had gone through years of therapy to work on it, sometimes it took ahold of him in ways he couldn’t realize until after the fact.
Of course the last thing he’d wanted was for her to resign, which was exactly why her message had twisted his stomach a bit more intensely than he would’ve liked; he had no idea how to rectify this situation. Most things in his life went as he wished and if they didn’t, he found it was easy to make it so they did. But not now— no, he had to think about this carefully.
It had turned one when his phone rang; he was typing away in his office, trying to distract himself. Her caller ID flashed on his screen, but it wasn’t her voice that caught his ears— it was a man’s. A man’s who’s name was Andrew.
“I’m from the viper,” he said, and Harry could swear he started seeing red, “your friend Y/N got a little too drunk for me to feel comfortable sending her away on her own. Is there any way you could come pick her up?”
Harry couldn’t help the string of curses which left his mouth as he gathered his house key. “Is she okay?” He asked, only to receive a conflicted hum.
“She had too many martinis and she was crying earlier. She said something about a fight.”
“Yeah, okay. Thanks, man. Will you keep an eye out until I get there?”
“Of course.”
As Harry got into his car, he felt the overwhelming urge to chastise her, to keep talking until she finally listened to him when it came to her own safety. Not even one day had passed since he’d had to pick her up the last time— no lesson learned, no regrets.
But then, as he neared the bar, the rational part of his brain advised him against it. Y/N was no child, she was aware of her actions and she knew what was best for her— so for Harry to act high and mighty would be wrong and uncalled for.
He needed to just be there for her. Drop the barrier and be there.
He was ready to offer that to her.
—
Y/N could swear her eyes were playing tricks on her. It wouldn’t be unrealistic, really, her vision had become blurry about an hour ago— but, well, she would probably recognize that silhouette anywhere. He wore jeans and a shirt and his hair was still styled for work; Andrew was pointing at her, and so his green eyes followed. When he spotted her, Y/N felt naked under his gaze.
And before she knew it, he was walking toward her.
“What are you doing here?” She demanded, lower lip jutted out in a pout. Y/N had gone drinking in the hopes of distracting herself— and yes, maybe it wasn’t exactly working, but it definitely wouldn’t start working if he was physically here.
“Andrew called me. Stand up, I’m taking you home.”
Andrew was somebody she‘d met a few hours ago. Originally he‘d flirted with her, asking questions about her as she sat at the bar willing to answer all of them soberly— but once eleven had struck, all she could talk about was Harry. Y/N wasn’t fond of airing dirty laundry so she‘d left the gory details of their fight out, but Andrew knew of a fight.
She was starting to regret it now that Harry was here.
Instead of doing as he’d asked— or ordered, more like, she leaned into the booth further.
“No.”
His eyebrow raised, “no?”
“I don’t leave or go out with dickheads. You taught me that.”
He looked ticked off and it satisfied something within her that had been needing it all night. When he breathed a sigh, eyes closing momentarily, she knew she had him.
“Y/N, would you please humor me and let me take you home? We can keep talking in the car, but not in front of these people.”
“What if I don’t want to go home, huh? Why are you always telling me what to do like you have the right? You’re not my dad.” Her words were slurred and her expression loose. Then she laughed to herself, giggled actually, ridiculously loud. “That’s funny, of course you’re not my dad cause he’s dead! Dead, six feet underground, you know? Probably lower, cause he definitely didn’t go to heaven! He’s, like, really deep underground.”
Concern warped his features.
“Y/N,” he warned, “please.”
She’d turned heads.
“But you know what you and my dad have in common? Yelling. Just yelling, for no fucking reason— yell yell yell, make it feel like my fault even though it isn’t. Right? That’s what my dad used to do to my mom, you know that? That’s why he’s in hell.”
She was pointing an accusatory finger at him, slurring even more than before.
“And you know what I said to her when she left him? That I would never let a man treat me that way. Never! Promised, hand on my heart and everything, I promised. But you’re different, aren’t you? Cause I like you, cause you’re not like my dad.” Her face fell again into the surfaces of her palms, “you’re not like my dad, but you reminded me of him. And I feel— feel like I’m betraying my mom.” Y/N hiccuped quietly, stumbling over a few words.
The gravity of her words were not lost on him— in fact, he’d never felt as guilty in his life.
“Hey,” he beckoned her to look at him, placing his tentative hand atop her arm, “we’ll talk about it. About everything. But not now. Not here.”
“You’re so confusing, you know that? One second you’re really nice to me and then— and then you aren’t.”
“Sweetheart,” he grasped her face as a last attempt to catch her undivided attention. Harry thumbed at her cheek and stared dutifully into her clouded eyes, “let me take care of you tonight. I’ll make it better.”
In all fairness, she’d lost the fight the second his eyes had met hers. There was something about them, maybe their deep shade of green or how effortlessly she could read them, that could probably persuade her into doing anything.
“Fine,” she mumbled after a minute, letting Harry wrap an arm around her waist as they walked. On their way out Y/N said goodbye to Andrew and stayed quiet otherwise, choosing to give Harry the silent treatment. Harry knew he couldn’t expect her to speak to him, so he didn’t force it.
As they drove, Harry couldn’t help glancing over every once in a while to study her expressions. There was barely a moment she wasn’t staring out the window watching cars drive by; even when his hand instinctively landed on her thigh she didn’t react, only moving it away slightly from his touch.
“Are you driving me to my apartment?”
And although both of them knew he’d really been directed toward his house, Harry still pretended to have chosen to take another route. “Course,” he muttered hoarsely, trying to mask his embarrassment with a quiet cough. Y/N sighed, her eyes pressing shut for a moment as she tried to let the guilt roll off of her back. He doesn’t deserve your sympathy.
“Where’s Jamie?”
He clicked his tongue. “Still at my mother’s.”
“Oh.”
The stubborn thing she was, Y/N refused Harry’s help getting out of the car. Instead she opened the door by herself, almost tripped when she jumped down from her seat and kept a distance anyway. Harry still watched, though, ready to help if needed.
Y/N unlocked the door (failing to find the keyhole several times) and kept it wide open for Harry to follow behind. The first thing she did was toe off her shoes followed by falling into bed.
“Y/N, have some water.”
“Stop telling me what to do,” she uttered, but accepted the glass of water anyway.
He ignored her. “Are you hungry?”
“I’m tired.”
“You can sleep as soon as you’ve changed and washed your face.”
She groaned, pulling a blanket over her head, “Harry…”
“Y/N.”
That stern mention of her name was enough to get her out of bed, limbs pretty much hanging loosely from her body as if she had no control over them— and honestly, it felt like she didn’t. Her eyes closed as Harry wiped a cool cloth over her face, ridding it of a light layer of makeup and sweat, everything that had accumulated at the bar. There were times she leaned into him, forehead falling to his shoulder and arms wrapping instinctively around his waist for support. She could swear that for a moment he’d pressed his lips to her forehead, but the daydream she was in barred her from really registering it.
“Why’d you go out drinking again?”
“Wanted to.”
“Told you not to do that. I meant it.”
“Well people keep hurting my feelings,” she mumbled, “and drinking your pain away is kind of a tradition in my family, so.”
Y/N had never really shared personal details about her family to Harry, but… well, the words were flowing right out of her mouth and the memories reincarnated newly in her head. She was referring to her mother, the former alcoholic in the family. Growing up her mother had drunk so much that she’d almost died from liver failure. As a small child Y/N had promised herself never to end up like her, but she was starting to understand more and more why her mother spent so many years drinking.
Harry‘s thoughts stayed internalized, but he made sure to make her feel heard. Rubbing over the top of her eyebrow, his breath hit her forehead as he spoke, “I’m so sorry, sweetheart. You didn’t deserve it.”
Her eyes peeked open, the previously warm towel no longer warm. Harry ran it under water again. “Deserve what?”
“Everything, especially the way I behaved earlier. I should’ve taken a moment to myself, instead I lashed out on you.”
It wasn’t until now that Y/N noticed the close proximity between her and Harry— obviously she knew he was cleaning her face for her, but it didn’t really click until now, she supposed. She could see everything, but it didn’t really matter; there was nothing about Harry, especially on him, that could deter her from thinking of him as the most beautiful man alive. Imperfections and all.
The towel met her neck this time, the other side held upright by his steady hand. She could feel his thumb tracing shapes on the surface of her skin and although she was trying very hard not to think of him in any inappropriate way, the image of his hand wrapped around her throat awakened something horrible within the confines of her intoxicated mind. It stayed there.
It was self destructive how often she spent thinking about him, really.
“You still there, baby?”
And he was so gentle— whenever he wasn’t yelling at her, of course— and soft, knowing the lines of what she could handle and what she couldn’t. No man had ever been this considerate and while it may just be his nature, it meant everything to Y/N. As the boundaries had begun to blur more and more, it became easier to misinterpret normal gestures for something more, something so much realer than it could ever be.
But he was calling her baby, and nobody had done that before.
“Yeah.”
“You were much more mouthy back in the bar,” he breathed out, an amused smile tugging at his lips. “Don’t wanna yell at me anymore?”
“No, I‘m not like you.”
“Ouch.”
Harry was humoring her and while it was really really nice; this whole thing, the gentle touches and the giggles shared in between a serious conversation, Y/N couldn’t let it get to her head.
“You were really mean to me and I didn’t do anything.”
His eyes searched for hers, but hers were stuck to his chest. “I know. I don’t know how to make it up to you, but I’ll spend a long time trying, I promise. You’re so sweet to me, so nice, I don’t mean to hurt your feelings. You know that, right?”
And although her heart was still furiously bleeding out, she was willing to ignore that for now. Throw bandages on and refuse a trip to the hospital because really she was just fine. There was just something about how he spoke to her that made it feel like she was floating— like she really was fine.
“Yeah.”
“Good, it’s very important to me that you do.”
Y/N’s eyes nearly glazed over when she thought about Harry being like this on the regular. It was a dangerous game they were playing.
“Look at me,” he breathed, beckoning her to do so with the grip he still had on her throat. Her eyes looked so innocent in this moment and although Harry knew Y/N was nothing if not tainted, she looked like she’d never been touched by the realities of life. “So pretty, you know that? So beautiful.”
She felt smaller in his gaze. “You think so?”
Y/N didn’t think anyone had said that to her ever. Nothing of the sort.
“I know so.”
“Thank you.”
“How about we go find you something comfortable to sleep in, yeah?”
“Yeah,” Y/N shook her head, willing to rid herself of this weird tension in her body before allowing Harry to lead her back into the bedroom. She sat on the edge of the bed as Harry retrieved some clothes and looked up at him expectantly when she could barely keep upright.
“You sure?”
“I physically can’t stand up, Harry.”
And though he looked torn, he ended up reaching for her sweater to pull it over her body, revealing the lacy bra she hid underneath. Y/N’s breasts had always been the biggest ones amongst her skinny friends and growing up she often felt ridiculed for it, though she supposed she could count on Harry not to judge. They were just there, so why pretend like they weren’t?
For Harry, taking off Y/N’s sweater was a completely different experience and although he didn’t wish to be a creep, he couldn’t help but letting out an awkward but knowing cough when he accidentally stared right down them. He hastily threw the shirt he’d brought her onto her torso, scared of what would happen if he were to delay it any longer. Harry prided himself on being a respectful man, but being with Y/N had always tested that quality of his.
“What?” She asked, a touch of feigned innocence to her tone, and he rushed to shake his head.
She knew what.
“Nothing.”
“M’kay.”
“Stand up for me?”
Y/N felt less amazing about her thighs, to be frank. She couldn’t really explain it, but they weren’t visually pleasing to her; cellulite littered the back of them and she obviously didn’t have a thigh gap, but that had become less of an issue. Y/N felt like her thighs had no real redeeming quality. It was a destructive way of thinking, she would admit, but… well, she’d carried that around since childhood.
As Harry pulled down her jeans, she felt void of anything. She didn’t exactly feel great, but better than when other guys had taken off her trousers. It was probably his age. She figured maturity increased as age did, and if Harry were to dislike the look of her body, he would be graceful about it.
“Hold onto my shoulders and lift your right leg.”
He got on his knees in front of her, pulling one leg in after the other. After doing so successfully, he allowed her to get under the covers.
“I’m still mad at you,” she mumbled into the covers, eyes fluttering to a close.
He hummed, “I know.”
“But thank you.”
“Don’t have to thank me for taking care of you.”
“Mhm,” she breathed, “it’ll be the last time, I promise.”
Sleep was pulling at her eyelids.
“Last time what?”
He received no answer. Upon a closer look, he saw Y/N completely overtaken by sleep. Her lips were situated in a pout and her foot peeked out of her thick comforter in the way he had already seen last time he’d brought her to bed.
He allowed himself more time to watch over her this time, scared that if he were to leave it would be the last he saw of her. The anxiety settled on his chest in heavy waves and the image of a precious Y/N was slipping further away from his mind. He had been a horrible person, allowing himself to become the type of man he’d always tried not to be… and he couldn’t do that to her. He couldn’t let this be that with her. He couldn’t bare it.
Harry had always thought of himself to be tattooed with imperfections. As he stared down at Y/N’s sleeping body, he couldn’t help the guilt that wrapped around him like a torture blanket. To him, she was perfect. She was kind and beautiful, she carried her heart out on her sleeve and overcame her past to grow in spite of painful trauma.
What he didn’t know, though, was that she thought the same of him. She thought of him as the most capable person, strong and kind. Her heart yearned for him in ways no one could comprehend.
She thought of him as everything but instead of embracing it, he’d pushed her away… and now both of them had to suffer the consequences.
—
Harry had stayed the night, but he hadn‘t slept; he‘d spent the night lying on Y/N‘s uncomfortable couch with various thoughts swirling around in his head. At eight he‘d stood up, started preparing breakfast and wasted time looking through social media to distract himself from the girl sleeping in the next room.
Y/N slipped out thirty minutes later, surprised when she saw Harry moving through her kitchen as though he knew it like the back of his hand. She coughed, not knowing where to put her arms and folding them in instead.
“Hi, sweetheart,” he tried to smile, “I hope you’re hungry, I made you a bagel with eggs if that’s okay.”
“That’s… yeah,” she swallowed a lump in her throat, stepping close to the counter, “thank you. You didn’t have to.”
“My pleasure. You—“ he pointed at the side of her face, “you have something there.”
“Oh, I—“ Harry reached forward to swipe at it, wiping his finger clean on his trousers and stroking her cheek once for good measure. “Thanks. Probably toothpaste.”
“Probably.”
Silence decorated their next few seconds, awkward glances and uncomfortable tension felt down to the bones. Then Harry straightened up and breathed in, simultaneously Y/N opened her mouth.
“I—“
“Are you— oh, sorry.”
“No, you go on,” she urged, waving a dismissive hand at him.
Harry smiled, “are you okay?”
“Uh, yes. Yeah, I am actually. Bit of a headache but that‘s expected. Thanks for…picking me up, I guess. I didn‘t want to be a burden, but I kind of told Andrew about you and he got a hold of my phone…“
Harry’s eyebrows drew together, “no, I’m glad he called. You should always reach out to me when you’re in trouble.”
“Yeah, but last time didn’t go over very well, so…”
Harry cleared his throat. “Right, I’m sorry about that. I was out of line, but that doesn‘t mean I don‘t want you to call when you need help getting home. There’s nothing more important than your safety, Y/N.”
“Yeah, but…” Y/N shook her head, overwhelming thoughts swirling endlessly inside rendering her speechless. There wasn’t anything she could say to efficiently express these concerns to him— Y/N had always been bad at communication and the last thing she wanted was to poke the bear even more.
“No go on, tell me.”
“I just… I don’t know. I felt like shit after last time.”
“I know,” he breathed out lowly, “I know you did, and I’m sorry. I didn‘t mean it.”
“But clearly you did if you felt the need to say it. I mean, it doesn’t just come out of nowhere, those accusations. You felt them. And I was thinking about it all day yesterday and… you were probably right, we are too unprofessional.”
“No, sweetheart. I enjoy our dinner sessions and I appreciate that you feel comfortable to talk to me when something bothers you—“ It didn’t matter, though. There was nothing he could say to change her mind.
The words that left her mouth were mostly involuntary. They were a protective barrier, a reason to say no, back off and a clear indication that she had no capacity for this. And although it hurt somewhere deep within her chest to express them, to become a viscous reminder of last night, especially when Harry’s eyebrows drew together in deep regret, it needed to be said.
“Harry, I meant it when I quit last night.”
A reasonable response was lost on Harry. For a moment he needed to think, to gather his thoughts— not that there were very many. He had to admit, he’d hoped they would gloss over her drunken text and pretend as though it hadn’t been. He’d hoped that Y/N felt a small spark of embarrassment when she thought about it, that she looked back on it with regret. Alas, she didn’t.
“Oh.”
He pulled back, shoulders tensing when the gravity of her statement had pulled him down along with it.
“Yeah. I mean, I love working with Jamie, I do, but I—“ I’m scared that I’ll form an attachment I will never recover from. I’m scared of the proximity we share, of how sometimes you let your fingers brush over my thigh. I’m scared because I don’t know what you mean, scared because psychoanalyzing doesn’t work on you. Or maybe— maybe I’m scared of love. With you. Or with anyone. Maybe I’m not capable of being loved. And maybe I’m not even capable of loving and maybe— just maybe, this will be the end of me. And for what? For you to say that the affection you extend to me is customary? That I have a tainted perception of reality, of love? Because I know I do. I know I do, and yet hearing it from you would hurt much more. And so maybe… maybe in this case, finding out isn’t worth the hassle. You’ll probably find I’m not either.
There was so much to say and such little capacity to say it. All Y/N could think to do was sputter words she didn’t mean and hope he understood because the alternative was ridding herself of every. little string of dignity she still possessed and she simply couldn’t do that. She couldn’t allow herself to unfold in front of the only person who’s perception of her she wanted to nurture. No one had stayed. Even if he would come to leave, she wanted him to leave with a sound picture of her.
“But you…”
“I can’t.”
“You can’t… because of yesterday?”
“No. I mean, I guess that was a bit of an eye opener, but I—“ Y/N breathed in, “I think I’m getting too attached to you. You and Jamie.”
His eyes widened just a bit and he took a small step toward her. It was so small she hardly felt him entering her space. “I don’t mind that, Y/N, you don’t need to quit—“
“I do though,” she interrupted him, a stern undertone to her voice. She coughed and said again, “I mind.”
“I think you’re still angry about yesterday.”
She had to contain the urge to roll her eyes, “I’m not. This is separate from that.”
“So it’s the attachment that’s the problem?”
“Yes.”
Harry scoffed, “that’s ridiculous. There’s nothing wrong with attachment.”
“It depends on what kind, doesn’t it?”
“Enlighten me then.”
Y/N’s mouth closed. She couldn’t do that.
So she deflected.
“Harry, my contract says that as long as I stay long enough to find a fitting replacement—“
“Fuck the contract, Y/N,” the volume of his voice almost caused Y/N to flinch into herself, “I know what my contract says. What I don’t know is why you’re giving up a job that you love, a job that pays you well, for reasons you can’t even explain to me.”
“Is my resignation not enough for you? Would hearing my reasoning really change anything if I will keep insisting on resigning no matter how often you’ll advise me against it? I doubt it matters. I doubt you would even so much as give a shit, Harry."
Y/N shook her head, tears building in the ducts of her eyes. Her father had been of great emotional abuse, her mother had spent half of her life drinking herself to liver failure and her brother had moved to Madrid as soon as he’d turned eighteen, leaving Y/N to fend for herself in a household that contained not one ounce of love— and yet this felt worse. This felt like her heart was being ripped from her chest, dropped on the floor beating and bleeding.
“You think I don’t give a shit? Really?” Y/N couldn’t help rolling her eyes, huffing when he tapped her on the wrist, muttering with a steady furrow in his brow, “don’t roll your eyes at me.”
“You know why I’m quitting and yet you want to hear it come out of my mouth. I’m not going to do it.”
“I don’t know.”
She almost laughed, “sure”
“Sweetheart—“
“Don’t call me that.” She gave him a sharp glance before heading back to her bedroom, arms falling to the sides of her timid frame. Harry stopped her just short of the door, a steady hand gripping around her wrist. She couldn’t help the gasp that left her mouth, built up tears finally streaming down in heaps— embarrassment brewed in her stomach and she couldn’t bare to look him in the eye anymore. Harry’s touch elicited a spark on her skin, blistering with uncomfortable heat. “What?”
“You’re being rude. I really think you should consider this.”
“There’s nothing to consider, okay?! I… I feel too much for you, there’s too— there’s too much, okay? There’s too fucking mu—“
What would transpire between them next was a kiss. Initiated by Harry.
It was barely a kiss, more of a brushing of the lips— tentative movements, gentle breaths. It was the minimum and yet it was more than enough. There was an electric feeling that dragged through Y/N’s entire body as she closed her eyes and let herself feel. Harry didn’t seem very much like a gentle lover— generous, without doubt, but Y/N had always pictured him as a pin-to-the-wall, bite-to-the-lip type of man and she quickly received confirmation when he began squeezing her hand as if feeling restrained.
Y/N hadn’t kissed many people; less than five, probably, but she could say with certainty that this was already better than all of the other ones combined. She knew why. She knew the reason was that she genuinely liked Harry, that he made her feel things she’d never felt before.
But then again, Harry was her boss. He was off limits, taboo. And he was absolutely out of his mind right now.
“Wait.”
His breath fanned against her chin. “You don’t want me to?”
“No I do, I just—“ she shook her head, thoughts in a disarray like they’d never been before.
“Tell me to stop and I will.”
Her mouth opened but nothing came out, merely staggered breaths as she tried to regain the ability to think. The interruption came when Harry’s phone rang on the counter.
He groaned, took a glance at the screen and broke away when he saw his mother’s name flash as the caller ID.
“Yes?” He called into the speaker, frustration molding his features as he kept on listening. “Yes, okay, tell him I’m on my way. Give me twenty minutes… Love you too, bye.” When he turned to her, phone slipped into his back pocket, she could tell that he yearned to say more, that he yearned for her to say more. She knew he would halt his actions, leave time for her to get her words out before he left for whatever emergency he’d been called in for, that if she only said something he would consider putting her as a second priority after his son. She knew that he would make her feel important. But she said nothing. And nobody, not even the most patient person in the world could work with nothing. “Jamie’s asking for me. I need to go get him.”
She only nodded.
He sighed, running a tired hand down his face. “Alright. I need to go. I’ll see you around, Y/N.”
She stood at exactly the same spot as Harry slammed the door shut, unwavering.
Her heart was still pounding as the words she should’ve expressed minutes ago died on her lips.
—
Résumés had been sent to him, interviews were lined up, and Y/N had received no reply back. She hadn’t received anything, really, just a text on Thursday that he would arrange for another babysitter to come in for Jamie while he left for his late meeting, to which Y/N had typed a dry ‘ok’ and left it to sit in her inbox.
The week had started fresh and Y/N had finally left home again (only to her classes, but still). After days of not working, she was scheduled to pick up Jamie at two thirty and hoped for these last weeks to resume seamlessly. She’d gotten the car from the house, locked the door back up again and made the ten minute drive down— everything was fine.
Until now. Until Y/N set foot on preschool grounds and noticed another woman hugging her arms around Jamie’s shoulders. She seemed unfamiliar at first— glasses tipped back on her long blonde hair, a pencil skirt concealing her toned legs. Y/N had no idea who she was dealing with until she took a closer look and recognized this woman to be Stacie. Y/N had seen a picture of Stacie up in Harry’s study— she seemed to have changed a little, but the structural features she associated with her still remained intact through all these years (big blue eyes, defined cheekbones).
As soon as Jamie’s eyes set on Y/N, though, Stacie’s hands were torn away from his shoulders as he ran for her. She got on her knees, his familiar smile melting away all of the cold spots she’d developed in over a week of not seeing him.
“I miss you!” Jamie pulled away to plant a kiss right on the top of the apple of Y/N’s cheek, something he only started doing recently. She guessed he’d only really learned how to. “Daddy said you pick me up today.”
“I missed you too, buddy. I see somebody else came to see you?”
“Oh, Stacie. She wants to take me home but daddy said you pick me up.”
“Yeah, okay. Do you want to wait a second while I talk to her?”
Jamie nodded, moving to stand next to her (small hand clutched in hers, of course) while Y/N greeted Stacie. Well, greet was a bit of an exaggeration; she didn’t get to before Stacie decided to introduce herself first.
“I’m his mom, I called Harry in the morning telling him I’d come for pick up. I have a packed schedule, so I’d appreciate it if you could let go of my child.”
Y/N almost laughed, the audacity of this woman a damn near mystery to her. “Wait. Don't talk about him like some sort of property. Harry never told me about anyone else coming to pick up Jamie.”
“He must’ve forgotten. He’s a busy man, I’m sure he would confirm—“
“Well then let’s call him, shall we?”
Stacie wanted to interject, she could tell, but Y/N had dialed way too fast for that to happen. The phone only had to ring once before Harry picked up, his voice coming in clear.
“Hey, you‘ve got Jamie?”
“I’m here at preschool but Stacie showed up before me and wants to take him home. You didn’t tell me, so I…” she trailed off, hoping he’d fill in the blanks.
It seemed to take a minute to click. “Stacie? His mother showed up at school?”
“Yes, was this arranged beforehand or…”
“No. No, don’t let her take him home. Shit, we talked about this last week, I don’t—“
“You… you talked about this last week?” The confusion dripped from Y/N’s voice and all she could hear was Harry’s attempt at concealing profanities. “What did you talk about last week?”
“It doesn’t matter. Just get home, tell her to call me to clear this up. I don’t want Jamie knowing Stacie is his mother yet, okay? So just get out of there before she tells him herself.”
A frown settled over Y/N’s features before she continued to end the call, scoop Jamie up into her arms and walk away after quick word. Stacie protested, but both her and Y/N knew she wouldn’t do much more than that in fear of causing a scene.
Y/N failed to pay attention to Jamie as she fastened the belt on his seat, only registering when she looked back into the rearview mirror and noticed the little pout starting to pull at his small lips.
And when he finally asked her, little quips of fear polishing his quiet tone: “is Stacie my mum?”, all Y/N could do was pretend she hadn’t heard and hope he would forget, knowing he wouldn’t.
—
Y/N bombarded Harry with questions the second he‘d unlocked that front door.
“Y/N—“
“No, I’m entitled to know this time. I’m entitled to know when she ambushes us at preschool. Don’t you want me to know what I’m dealing with if it happens again? That woman almost fucking kidnapped him—“
“Calm down, Y/N. Sit down and I’ll explain it to you.”
She huffed in annoyance, listening nonetheless. She set herself down on one of the kitchen stools and tried to take control of her breathing. She watched as he took a seat opposite her.
“Stacie came to visit last week on Wednesday. She’d called beforehand, asking if it would be okay. She came and we had dinner, we talked some things out while Jamie was in bed. She apologized, asked if we could start working things out again. I agreed under the condition that she would approach the idea of Jamie as a friend first. She said that she would respect my wishes and that she wouldn’t come near him unless I gave my permission. That’s it. So far all Jamie knows is that she’s a friend of mine. I didn’t—god,” Y/N felt bad when Harry buried his head in his hands, itching to reach out in comfort. She chose to play it safe, settling a gentle touch over his thigh. “I know I should’ve known but it seemed real when we spoke last, you know? I didn’t think she’d do this.”
Y/N hadn’t seen Harry this distraught over anything. “I’m sorry. That’s heavy.”
“It’s—“ he sighed, “it’s something I keep having to deal with. All she wants is to have him on the weekends, have him pose as her cute son. But she doesn’t actually care about him.”
Y/N couldn’t do much more than nod. She was caught between playing the comforting role and being honest. She wasn’t sure if this was the place, if her opinion would be welcomed or if it would contribute to Harry’s sorrows. “She seemed… uncooperative when I spoke to her at school. Like she was in a rush or something, it scared me.”
“Yeah, she’s hardheaded.”
“Right.” Y/N pulled her hand away when Harry lifted his head, clearing her throat and averting her eyes. The change in her behavior didn’t go unnoticed, though he knew he shouldn’t ask. “So when you talked… when you agreed to working things out, you meant that in a friendly manner? Or were you going to be… a couple again?”
“We… I don’t know. We kissed— well, she kissed me a few days ago when we met up again for a playdate with Jamie. Never discussed it any further.”
“Do you love her?”
Y/N had begun to hold her breath in, but she didn’t notice it.
Harry did. He noticed the suction of a deep breath and he noticed how his own hands got clammy with sweat.
Harry looked skeptical, as though there was something on his tongue ready to peek out tentatively, only it couldn’t because he had to spare her feelings. Because there was little Y/N, intimidated by everything she’d ever had to face in her lifetime— little Y/N who had rejected him and still expected loyalty. Little Y/N who couldn’t have him, but had always wanted to.
“I think a part of me will always love her. I mean, she gave me Jamie and he’s… the best thing to ever happen to me, really. I love him, and I will always love her for giving birth to him. I will always love her for the good parts of our relationship.”
Y/N hated herself for hating his answer. It was a perfectly reasonable answer, truthful as Y/N expected, yet her mind wandered past the barriers, past the barbed wire. She couldn’t fully grasp how he could still love her— and yet she understood perfectly. There was Jamie, of course, but there were many other things. There was her hair, her bright complexion, the beautiful curve of her hips and the effortless look of her makeup. There was the fashion, the business-casual look that seemed to mesh so well with Harry’s. There was this calling when Y/N pictured the two of them standing side by side, almost like they were destined to be together. She could imagine it perfectly, the many years they had spent together. She could see it. And it looked perfect.
Y/N coughed, head nodding along to his words as if she were listening to instructions and not some heartfelt confession. It seemed instinctual, though.
When it came time for her to speak, she let a smile mold her lips into a perfect crescent moon. She never thought faking a smile could hurt more than a physical injury, but she’d been proven wrong. Everything looked intact— Y/N was sure she almost seemed unaffected from the outside. She wasn’t, though, and she wondered if Harry would recognize that.
“That’s… yeah. I get that.”
This was the first time Y/N actually felt the age gap between her and Harry. He sat here, ready to air it out. He spoke about his concerns, about the state of his son, and the only thing she could fret about was herself. Her sadness had no weight, it was too insignificant in comparison to his and it made her feel pathetic. It made her feel young and stupid and pathetic.
Harry deserved better than this. He deserved careful consideration, security for his child. He deserved trust and honesty, a sort of transparency Y/N couldn’t afford to offer to him yet.
“That’s not to say that I want to approach her in that way, especially after today, but…” he trailed off, only finding his words when it’d clicked that she wasn’t responding, “I just want you to understand that it’s complicated.”
Y/N nodded. Then she cleared her throat, ready to rid herself of this spotlight. She always messed up in the spotlight. “Um, Jamie asked me if Stacie was his mum today. I didn’t answer, but you might want to think about what you’ll say to say to him next time. I also sent you a few résumés, I’ve talked to a few people and have set up interviews, the first one is scheduled for tomorrow—“ she visibly flinched when his hand came down on her thigh, “please, Harry. I can’t. Please just let me finish this.”
“Okay.”
A deep breath, “it’s scheduled for tomorrow after you come home from work. Do you want me to come on the call, or are you okay interviewing yourself?”
“I’d like you to come.”
“Okay. I’ll stay longer tomorrow.”
“Can we talk about us now? Properly?”
“There’s nothing to talk about.”
Harry almost laughed, “there’s a lot to talk about. We just added on a good bit today.”
“I’m quitting. That’s it.”
“You know, I don’t understand why you insist that there’s nothing going on—“
“Because there isn’t,” she snapped. “There isn’t. I’m going to check up on Jamie.”
She was teary-eyed as she slipped from the stool, ready to conceal it all for the ball of sunshine sitting in the living room. She could do it all for Jamie— she would do it all.
Before he could say any more, Y/N disappeared behind the door. Harry could hear the two of them converse in the next room and his heart felt heavy as the gravity of the situation dawned on him. Harry had always known what to do— he was a CEO, for god’s sake. He was trained to find solutions, take control of seemingly unfixable problems, to make life easy. And yet, this girl thoroughly baffled him. He had no idea what the fuck to do anymore.
And yet, he was determined to keep trying.
—
Two people had interviewed over zoom and Harry had hated every one of them. His excuses were vague, something about the lack of experience (even though they both knew that Y/N hadn’t had any when she’d started either) and the supposed ‘wrong vibe’. One time he’d criticized a woman for her ‘ridiculously shrill voice’, at which point Y/N had rolled her eyes and proceeded to walk home in a fury.
The next day Y/N showed up again, ready to interview three more people. She sat beside Harry as he set up the video call and listened as he asked questions. Y/N was mostly in attendance to listen and give her honest feedback by the end (she really did want to find someone spectacular for Jamie), so the difficult part came later. For now she could be quiet.
This woman, aside from qualified, seemed very kind. So far, it’d been the best candidate.
“So how flexible is time for you?”
“Very. I do online classes for uni, so I can very well manage my time how I see fit.”
“That sounds fine. And you’ve had plenty of experience, I see.”
“Yes, I started babysitting when I was fourteen, so for more than ten years now. The last family I worked for just moved out of the country, which is why I’m looking for something new, but I was with them three years.”
This woman had nothing but good evidence she would be the best for the job; no doubt better than Y/N. She had the experience, she seemed mature, she looked kind— she would act in a professional manner, something Y/N had never quite figured out yet.
That didn’t matter to Harry, though, because as soon as she’d gotten off the call, he muttered a ‘no’.
“Why not?” Y/N asked, bewildered by his blunt response, “she was literally perfect for the job.”
Harry lifted his shoulders in a shrug, busying himself with his laptop, “just didn’t feel right.”
“Okay, this is just getting too unreasonable at this point. You didn’t like the lack of experience, fine, that one woman’s shrill voice, fine— but this? She just didn’t feel right?”
“I don’t expect you to understand—“
“No. We’re not doing that.”
“It’s a feeling, Y/N. When I interviewed you, I got the feeling that it’s right, that I’d feel safe leaving Jamie with you. It takes trust.”
“But she’s— she’s so qualified, she—“
“Experience isn’t everything. It’s important, but not everything. You weren’t experienced when you came for your interview but you gave me the right feeling. Thus you were qualified for the job.”
And she understood, really, but it still fucking pissed her off. “That’s fucking— you’re being too picky.”
“For good reason.”
“At least two of the people we interviewed were qualified enough for a test run.”
“We still have about fifteen to go and there’s no rush.”
Y/N found this ridiculous. She muttered under her breath, pushing some hair back with a sweaty palm.
“Why is it that everything I do makes you angry?”
“Because you’re fucking infuriating.”
He breathed a chuckle, “that’s nice,” and closed his laptop. “Are you hungry?”
“No.”
“Don’t lie to me. I’ll make your favorite pasta.”
“I don’t—“ but Harry had already gotten to work, tuning her voice out without much trouble. He smiled at her, almost mocking.
“Do you have another job lined up?“
“Uh,” Y/N didn’t want to admit no, that she hadn’t even begun looking properly (save for that one café down the street from her apartment), knowing the consequences and aware of the tiring reprimanding from Harry ahead. A pitied glance. A pathetic speech. “I’ve applied.”
“Where?”
“A cafe.”
“Where?”
“You wouldn’t know it.”
“Are you hired?”
She huffed, “no.”
“Where else?”
“Um, a… another café. It’s in... near my apartment.”
“Would be bad if it wasn’t,” he quipped, paying her a shortened glance from over his cooking pot. “Do you need help?”
“No.”
“Financial help, maybe?”
Y/N groaned, “no.”
“Because I wouldn’t mind sending you some money—“
“Harry,” she cut him off in an instant, glaring daggers at him, “I’ll just send it back. I’ve saved up enough to get by for a few weeks.“
“That doesn’t exactly ease my—“
“Can we just— can we not?”
And they didn’t. Harry closed his mouth— forced it closed, actually— having to clench his jaw to stop himself from voicing unwanted thoughts. Y/N looked away, pretending this conversation hadn’t happened at all. It was easier that way, to pretend he hadn’t conveyed such an open and honest display of care, to pretend that it hadn’t ripped her heart to shreds.
There was so much he wanted to say, but he couldn't. It was the first time in a while that Y/N stayed (somewhat voluntarily) after her shift, and he couldn't risk pushing her away further.
For now, he had to be okay with this.
—
Y/N couldn‘t keep her eyes off of Harry, images of last night flashing in between conflicting thoughts.
She was in bed. She was clutching her blanket, a wet spot and the outline of her body marked by sweat on the sheets. He‘d looked so real fucking her, he‘d sounded so genuine whispering into her ear as he thrust up into her cunt.
He‘d called her a good girl, and she‘d run with it, afraid to look back.
But it hadn‘t been real, had it?
It‘d been a dream. But god, was it a good one.
Would he do it all the same? Would be hold her close, spreading his fingers over the expanse of her breast as he kissed her neck? Would he glide them up, and wrap them around her throat? Would he— fuck. No. She couldn’t.
But he would. And they‘d look so pretty resting there. And she‘d feel so pretty as he overwhelmed her with his presence, his chest pressing against hers. He‘d look so right as he danced along the fine line of praise and degradation— the line of rough and sweet, cold and warm. Because he would know. He would know exactly what she would need.
Wouldn‘t he?
He would. As she watched him move through the space of his living room, she knew he would. She‘d always known, really.
And Jamie wasn’t here anymore, he’d fled up the stairs. And Y/N really, really shouldn’t be here with him alone.
She was biting on her nails, eyes cast downwards in avoidance as Harry read his book on the other end of the couch. He had an arm stretched along the back of the couch and her legs were tucked to her chest as she scrolled on her phone, trying her hardest not to let her gaze run wild. It proved especially difficult when his arm fell mere inches from her legs. And when he touched her, warm thumb rubbing comforting circles into the cold of her skin, she couldn’t help biting her lip.
“You okay?”
“Hm? Yes. Why?”
A smile stretched his mouth wide, “just seem distracted, is all. Squirmy.”
“What? No, I’m fine.”
God, she was feeling small under his gaze.
“You sure?”
“Yes,” she mumbled. Harry saw her eyes, though, tired dark circles resting where they don’t belong. He saw how they widened, how desperate they seemed for something she didn’t want to disclose to him and he wanted so badly to satisfy that need for her. “I should go home.”
His grip tightened ever so slightly. “Would you like me to drive you?”
“Um, no. It’s okay. Thank you.”
But she failed to move.
Y/N had shut him out for so long that the effect he’d always had on her multiplied by ten. It was much much worse and the finger on her leg burned through her skin with ease.
“Sweetheart?”
“Hm?”
“Come here,” he demanded softly, watching as a war unfolded on her face. He could read her like a book, sensing the exact moment her heart won and her head gave up. He pulled her to him, fingers dancing up and down her shoulder. “You seem tired.”
Y/N cleared her throat, tips of fingers holding onto the edge of safety and threatening to let her cascade into the depths of danger. “I had three classes in the morning and I’ve been writing this paper, so—“ she allowed him control as he made her face the other way, legs outstretched, her back just inches from his chest and his hands massaging her tense shoulders. Her eyes closed in pleasure at the sensation. “And last night, I—“
“Last night you what?”
“I had… I had this dream and—“
She didn’t want to finish and he didn’t need her to.
“Is this okay?”
His voice felt soft and comfortable against her neck. “Yes, thank you. You’re good at that.”
He hummed.
“I really should go home though,” she mumbled, getting quieter with each word. She knew she wouldn’t dare push him away now, but she supposed it was more about convincing herself that she’d tried. “Cause I have classes early in the morning.”
“It’s only seven.”
“Yeah.”
Harry snickered quietly, her awful try at resistance not surprising him in the least. He had never seen her quite like this though, weak and smitten in his arms, on the verge of purring like a cat. He definitely couldn’t complain when she inched closer and dropped her head so it could rest comfortably on his shoulder.
“Can you do my arms?”
“Of course, baby.”
She could’ve melted. In fact, she probably had without noticing.
And when she felt his lips pressing to her skin… well, then it was game over.
“Is this okay?”
She nodded promptly, heart racing.
Y/N was tired of rejecting this feeling, tired of pretending as though she didn’t want Harry’s affection. Because truly, it was all she wanted, all she’d longed for.
A love like his would feel so great.
“You look really beautiful, you know that?”
“Thank you,” she squeaked, sensing Harry’s chuckle rolling against her back at the response.
“I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you.”
“Me neither.”
“You’re the one who keeps running.”
“I know.”
“Why?”
Y/N took her time answering, grateful when Harry didn’t rush her. He would sit here waiting for an hour if he needed to, she was confident in that. There was no hurry, just soft hands on scalps and warm kisses on necks— Y/N hadn’t experienced such an overwhelming feeling of comfort in the arms of a man.
“I’m scared to stay.”
He sounded unfazed, giving her a surge of confidence when he asked, “why?”
“Because we’re such different people. You’re a dad, a very accomplished ceo. I’m a student, so much younger—“
“Don’t make me out to be so old, love.”
Her eyes rolled. “A little younger than you. And last week when I saw Stacie, I don’t know… it did something with my brain, I guess. You seemed so right together, you know? I didn’t want you to wake up one day and regret anything, don’t think I could bear that.”
“Look at me,” he muttered, tilting her head so that he could pin her down with a stern stare, “I couldn’t regret you, sweetheart. I regret much in life, but I wouldn’t regret you.”
“You don’t know that.”
“Eh, I’m a pretty good judge of character.”
“Harry,” she warned, “I’m not the most lovable person once you get to know me.”
“I doubt that,” he retorted.
“Past experiences have proven as much.”
He gave gentle strokes to her cheek, a glaze he didn‘t expect overcoming her eyes, pulling him in, “so let me show you.”
Y/N’s breath hitched, his nose mere inches away from hers. “Show me what?”
“How easy it is to love you.”
Time stood still, but it couldn’t not have with a statement of that kind. It seemed so easy for him to brush off concerns as something undeserving of thought, to create an allusion of simplicity where it didn‘t belong. Those words meant everything to her.
“You must know how wonderful that sounds coming from your mouth.”
Harry breathed a chuckle, nose nudging against hers softly. When he asked for permission, Y/N couldn’t deny him of another kiss.
And if it could’ve gotten any better than their first kiss, then it definitely had. There was a newfound sense of freedom and security with this kiss, unspoken thoughts reduced to small details rather than what had been when they’d spent time together last.
When they parted, nothing needed to be said. They already knew it all.
—
A month later.
“Y/N, will you hand me another bowl for the soup, please?”
As Y/N fulfilled Harry’s plea, she couldn’t help but let her giddiness dictate her movements. Things were fresh, things were good— but they were also scary. He was scary. Anxious butterflies spread in her lower tummy at the mention of his name and infested it with the low sound of his voice.
She waited by his side as he tidied up, ready to be of assistance. It was pathetic, really, how awfully smitten she’d become for him.
“Thank you, sweetheart.”
She hummed in reply, scared that if she were to speak all that would come out was a squeak. Harry chuckled, smirk molding into his cheekbones as he grasped Y/N by the waist and pushed his lips against hers in a gentle kiss. His hand slid lower, giving her a squeeze.
“Are you nervous?”
“Yeah.”
“It’ll be great, I promise. And whatever he says, we’ll work it out.”
“Okay,” a surge of confidence rode her to sunny dry shores, shoulders sacking in comfort, “yeah, okay. I trust you.”
“You ready then?”
“Yes.”
Things proceeded as they always had; Y/N and Jamie shared funny anecdotes of their day as Harry mostly listened, admiring the two of them with love filling his eyes. It wasn’t until desert had come that the setting changed, unbeknownst to Jamie, and Harry took the lead.
“Jamie, we want to talk to you about something.”
Jamie stared between the two of them, waiting.
“Do you remember when you came home from school and told me about Katie and Josh? That they’re boyfriend girlfriend?”
“Yes, they still are.”
Harry chuckled, “and do you remember what I said when you asked if I had a girlfriend?”
“You said that you don’t.”
“I did. And while that may have been true for that moment, things have changed.”
Her heart melted and sank all the same when his little green eyes lit up, “do you have a girlfriend now?”
“I do,” Harry laughed, “you know her.”
“Who?”
Harry smirked, motioning to Y/N with a nod of his head to draw Jamie’s attention away. Jamie’s gaze landed on Y/N and in the matter of a second it filled with excitement. His mouth dropped open in surprise.
“Are you okay with that?” She asked, timid at first but becoming more confident when a genuine smile imprinted small dimples in his cheeks, a feature he’d been lucky enough to receive from his father.
He nodded, full of movement, and hummed in confirmation.
When Y/N and Harry had put Jamie into bed later that night, and had vacated to the kitchen to enjoy a glass of wine together, things finally fell into place. The thought of happiness within a relationship was no longer a distant one— no, it had become a reality. Harry had kept up with his promise, he had shown her easy, he’d shown her effortless, and while there was no doubt in her mind that hard times were still to come, she was confident that no matter the circumstance, her gratitude for his open portrayal of love could never be put into question.
“I love you,” she shared, eyes glassy, head tilted. “You don’t have to say it back, but I just want you to know. I think I’ve loved you for quite some time, I just didn’t want to realize it.”
The silence was short lived.
He placed his glass back down on the table and smiled, though to her it almost looked awkward. “Wow.”
“I know, you don’t have to… cause I know it’s a big deal, so you don’t have to say anything.”
“I do too,” he then offered, hand traveling to rest on her knee. “I love you.”
“Really?”
“I do.”
This stumped her.
And now it was her turn: “wow.”
Harry’s laughter spread everywhere on Y/N’s skin, engraving itself into her soul and staying there to be kept and remembered forever.
“Good. Now that that’s cleared…”
She couldn’t deny him of a passionate make-out session, hands on thighs and lips everywhere they fit, everywhere they felt right. A moan slipped from her mouth, his smirk molded into her hot skin.
“Move in with me,” he muttered, dirty against her mouth, “we’re finding a new nanny for Jamie and you don’t have a new job planned yet. Just focus on university, move in with me, with us. Let me take care of you.“
“Harry—“ his mouth collided against her neck, her eyes closed shut, “I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”
“Why?”
“We’ve only been together—“
“Doesn’t matter, I’ve fought for a long time to have you. I believe in us, I trust this.”
“I…“ Y/N felt torn— on one hand, she really wanted to move in with him. On the other, was that really wise? To move in with a man after a month of dating him? Albeit this was Harry, and she trusted him too. Fully. It was herself she didn’t trust. “Are you sure?”
And when she looked into his eyes, there was no not one ounce of doubt in them. They welcomed her.
“Jamie would love it just as much as me.”
“Would he?”
“Are you kidding me? He loves you so much.”
“I love him too,” she played with a strand of his hair.
“Then move in with us.”
A smile began to pull at her lips. “But I pay for groceries.”
“No,” he mumbled, “you’re too broke for me to let you do that.”
“Harry!”
“It’s true!” He laughed, massaging her thigh. “Baby, I don’t expect you to pay for anything living here. I’m more than capable—“
“I know you’re capable, but I just… I was taught not to burden other people.”
“You’re not burdening me,” he insisted, finger sliding under her chin, “it’s okay to let other people do things for you. It’s okay for others to show their love.”
“I know that.”
“So please don’t worry about it. Focus on your studies and make me proud in that way.”
“I need to make money somehow.”
“No you don’t. I’ll support you.”
“No,” she breathed right away, “I won’t depend on you for money. You’re not my… my sugar daddy.”
“Why not?” He grinned, “you call me daddy either way—“
Y/N’s eyes rolled, “shut up.”
“Told you not to roll your eyes at me.”
“Sorry.”
Harry hummed, “try it for a month. If you want to move in after, you can. If you don’t, I’ll help you find a new place. Or I’ll pay your rent while you’re here so you don’t lose out on money.”
Comfortable silence dictated the next few seconds as Y/N thought about her boyfriend’s offer, and then: “fine. We’ll try it for a month.”
Harry’s smile widened, “yeah?”
“Yes.”
“You won’t regret it."
He'd been right.
--
The end! Would love to hear your feedback :) but also like… don’t be too harsh cause I can’t handle it
tags:
@tpwk-mia @gem1712 @behindmygreyeyes, @sinarainbows @infixinfinity @adkmermaid2399 @daphnesutton @imaginexxharry @bry211 @haliastyles @watarmelon212 @impossibleme @cali-888 @dreamybabbyy @evie-119 @cumuluscranium @c-a-b3002 @buckybarnessimpp @freckles-things @harryedwardstylesluva24 @ihavesimpedovermanyfictionalmen @angelbunny222 @ivegotthecinema @harryscowgirl
I hope I didn’t forget anyone!
#harry styles#harry styles angst#harry styles fan fiction#harry styles fanfic#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles fic#harry styles x you#harry styles one shot#harry styles x y/n#harry styles x reader#harry styles fluff#harry styles series#harry styles materlist#harry styles x plus size reader#harry styles x nanny#harry styles ceo#harry styles fanfic rec
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Make It Up | Quinn Hughes & Trevor Zegras
summary: when you get left at the lake house with trevor and quinn, what happens when their bet has a way of helping you.
pairing: quinn hughes x fem!jack hughes best friend x trevor zegras
request: yes/no
warnings: mature themes, threesome, p in v (unprotected), oral (fem and m receiving!), mild choking, degradation, spanking, swearing, weed, and drinking.
word count: 6.74k
authors note: strap in people for our @sweetestdesire smut where our inner whore was truly released. I hope you all enjoy reading as much as I enjoyed writing it! and did this take me a week? yes…
“Don’t be so stupid!”
You heard Trevor groan as someone - who you could only assume to be Quinn - hit the boy on the head “I’m just saying that maybe we should let her decide who gets her?” Trevor’s shrugged still letting his hand nurse the sore spot on his head.
The boys were sat on the couch unaware of the fact that you had woken up and crawled out of the comfort that was your bedroom “you make her sound like she’s some toy bro.” Quinn scowled, knowing you were worth more than that.
But the younger boy laughed, taking the captains apprehension for something else “look if you think I could fuck Y/N better then, I’ll understand if you want to concede.” His words made your eyes go wide finally realizing that it was you that they were talking about, not one of the girls who stayed in the area for the summer.
The idea within itself was complicated, you were Jack’s best friend. Had been since you both ended up reaching for the last coke can in the cooler during a party.
It was that awkward moment as your hands touched “you can have it.” Jack offered letting his hand drop.
You were a gorgeous girl that had Jack wondering why he hadn’t seen you before “we could split it.” You shook your head as you smiled.
That offer was far more suitable for the two of you as he nodded ‘I would but I sorta got this rule that I need to know your name before I share a drink with you.” He made this exaggerated sigh that made you laugh.
The hockey player watched you playfully roll your eyes “it’s Y/N.” You mumbled holding your hand out to meet his “Jack.”
But somehow they didn’t really care for the innocence of that memory that was the foundation of which your friendship with Jack was built on.
“Oh you are so fucking on.”
With their handshake it now felt time for your presence to be known “you boys coming with for a run?” You forced a smile onto your lips acting like your mind wasn’t going a million miles a minute thinking about what they wanted to have be in store for you.
Their faces were red as their eyes went wide with fear wondering how much of that you had heard “geez, you’d think a bunch of athletes would be a little more cooperative.” You raised your hands in surrender assuming they wanted to discuss more of their conversation.
So they watched you walk off, sliding your shoes on before you sent them a salute. The boys grew jealous of your shorts and sports bra watching the material hug your breasts and the curve of your ass before you left them alone.
The desire that filled their bones was almost enough to have them run after you. But with the reminder of the fact that, the house was set to remain with just the three of you for another five days, they knew they could wait. After all, they couldn’t allow themselves to be seen as too desperate right?
Your initial plan for the summer was to have one last bit of fun before you headed off to work. After college you were left with two different offers which ironically enough, were in Vancouver and Anaheim. So now you were left with a measly week to reveal to them exactly which one you were going to take.
Now part of you was willing to just pick yourself, but being so indecisive by nature. When the idea came up of someone else picking for you, you practically chomped at the bit. Still refusing to let the figments of fantasy that your mind created around the boys plan, that they still didn’t bring up to your face.
But truthful it was all they could think about when they watched you fall asleep on the boat as the three of you grew used to each other. Settling into a routine what seemed to almost always have you in your bikini “I’m bored.” You whined skipping the song on Trevor’s playlist as you didn’t think you could handle the sounds of Drake once more.
You had been sat on the arm of the couch as you watched the boys play pool, after giving up when you lost for a fifth time in a row. As you sat up straight it made the boys smile turning their attentions to you “so what do you propose we do?” Trevor had a blunt between his fingers as he offered you a hit.
His eyes practically jumped into what felt like your soul as you nodded. Opening your lips slightly as you allowed him to rest it on your lower lip. Both boys watched in awe as your eyes never left Trevor’s “now breathe out f’me pretty girl.” His voice was soft as it made you feel at ease letting some of the herbal taste still on your tongue before you followed the instructions.
Trevor brought the blunt up to his own lips as even Quinn walked over to the two of you “what do you wanna do now doll?” The pet names had you feeling fuzzy when his hand was placed on your thigh.
It made you squirm as the alcohol in your system had you feeling everything in a tenfold strength “I want you both.” You confessed bringing the white claw that you were drinking to your lips to taste the mango flavored drink.
The boys swore they were dreaming, like their prayers had been answered and heavens gates opened. Yet when they remembered that they hadn’t brought it up to you panic did start to set in for the two of them.
Part of you realized your minor error and smiled as your cheeks turned a soft shade of pink “maybe it could help me decide where I go.” You shrugged running your fingers through your hair “and besides, it’s not like the two of you didn’t already want to fuck me.”
Trevor smirked running his fingers along his jaw as he looked down at you “y’know it’s rude to talk about someone behind their back.” He pointed out shaking his head, as if he was pretending to be disappointed that you had listened in on their conversation.
But instead a soft laugh left your lips as you took his dying blunt from him letting it rest between your fingers “thought it was worse to talk about someone though?” You quipped back bringing your feet up to the couches on either side of you, revealing the wet patch in your red bikini bottoms as you smirked “so if anything, I think we should be starting with an apology.” Your words were directed to them both as they couldn’t but almost cum on the spot as they watched your hand run down your bare thigh, with your baseball jersey - that you had most definitely stolen from Luke - falling to your sides.
The air in the room grew warm as the boys wondered who should really make the first move “princess if you want us to act sorry then you gotta do something for me first.” Quinn spoke up, almost in awe of how your eyes looked up at him when you nodded.
Quinn placed his fingers under your chin forcing your head up “go sit on the table f’me please.” Even as he had a tone strong enough to make your entire body squirm, he was still the well mannered boy that his mom raised him to be.
So of course you listened, short bursts of movement left the felt material against your ass “who do you want more of an apology from?” Trevor went to step in front of you as it was he who came up with the original idea of the agreement. Meaning that he was sure to be the most logical to be blamed.
But instead your eyes never left Quinn “someone who thought his morals were too good to fuck me.” The captain let his head drop as he realized that you had also heard the part where he tried to say no.
Somehow Trevor wasn’t disappointed to be shut down, instead he found himself comfortably on the pool table behind you “rest your pretty little head f’me doll.” Trevor mumbled spreading his legs to allow you to rest against him.
His fingers brushed over your collarbone as he smiled “Quinny you gonna fuck her or keep us both waiting?” The younger player couldn’t help but grumble still jealous that it wasn’t him between your legs.
Quinn tapped the pads of his fingertips over the insides of your thighs “been thinking about getting you like this since I met ya.” His confession made you blush as you remembered the day you picked up Jack’s FaceTime call from the older boy.
So you sent him a smile as he tapped your thigh motioning to you to push off of your hips making his cock throb against his boxers at the way you were so responsive to him. It took him a moment to hook his fingers into the bottoms of your swimsuit as he sucked in his breath, watching in awe at how your panties slid off of your legs “you’re such a pretty fucking girl.” Quinn murmured to himself as he pressed his hands on the table to stop you from shutting your legs.
He kissed up your skin, making sure to not miss a spot in his efforts to spread his love equally between your two legs “please.” Your voice drew a shaky whimper “since you asked so nicely.” The captain smirked, dropping his face down to meet your cunt.
His tongue was rough against your slit “shit!” You gasped pushing back against Trevor as your eyes fluttered feeling the new sensation
It made him smile as he watched your head look up to him “hi pretty girl.” Trevor mumbled as he cupped your cheek keeping you close as his lips hovered over yours.
He pressed a soft kiss against your lips wanting to keep your attention but as Quinn slotted his tongue into your cunt, it made you moan unintentionally giving Trevor the chance to slot his tongue between your lips. Quinn enjoyed how you tasted on his tongue letting his nose bump your clit occasionally to draw your eyes back to him “fuck Quinn!” You whimpered feeling the scruff of his beard against the inside of your thighs.
The captain practically treated you like you were his last meal, constantly sucking and licking as he replaced his tongue with his fingers letting the calloused skin stretch your cunt out. Quinn took the opportunity to watch you in awe “is this a good enough apology f’you?” He mumbled finally letting his tongue focus on your sensitive clit.
Your mind went foggy as you arched your back letting your ass press against Trevor’s boner that tried to push through his shorts “think Quinny boy asked you a question doll.” You could feel the younger boy’s warm breath against your neck as he ran his fingers up the sides of your chest.
His hands were rough as they found their place on the bikini top that did little to cover your breasts “since you won’t need this tonight.” Cockiness soaked his voice as the door air hit your hardening nipples, feeling the fabric that once covered them get pushed to the side.
Incoherent whimpers of apology felt from your lips as Trevor caught your breasts in between his fingers “s-so good.” You nodded feeling your fingers tug through Quinn’s locks that you had somehow convinced him not to cut coming into summer.
The new pain in his scalp made him grunt as the sensation traveled down to his cock, only making his tongue as his fingers move faster as he curved his fingers that thrusted into your cunt “I’m gonna.” You warned feeling your body grow tight as your toes curled when your eyes locked in on him.
Trevor’s antic’s only seemed to increase at that point rolling your sensitive peaks against his skin, bringing his lips down to suck at your ear lobe as he let his grunts echo on your ears.
You bit your lip as you squirmed, Quinn still attacking your clit in awe of the way you became a mess in his hands. As he tapped the pool table with two fingers from his free hand it seemed that he and Trevor had a secret language “he want’s you to make a mess on the table sweet girl.” Trevor’s mumble was all that you needed to finally reach your orgasm.
The walls around you absorbed the sounds of your cries and the way that you used each of your hands to each one boy close to you. Your body came crashing down from the high as if you had been brought to shore by a wave that knocked the wind out of your chest “lay off her for a second.” Trevor almost felt like he was getting protective over you as you struggled to regain your breathing with Quinn still lapping away at your cunt.
Quinn’s chin glistened from your juices and you couldn’t help but whimper using the remaining bits of your energy to lean forward to kiss him. Getting to taste your salty release on his tongue as it mixed with the array of drinks that he had been having through the day “fuck baby.” Quinn let out a grunt as he had to pull away from you just as you got into the kiss when his phone went off.
The contact that illuminated his screen was Josh and you couldn’t help but furrow your eyebrows at it “I need to take this.” Quinn sighed wanting to kill his friend as he saw the previous two miss calls from earlier in the day.
You nodded - not like you had much choice anyways - as he left the room, leaving you to breathe against Trevor “hi pretty girl.” Trevor laughed as he caught your grin.
He helped you sit up straight “you still with us?” His voice was soft seeing your eyes begin to grow heavy.
Adrenaline coursed through your veins, body coming down from what could have been drowning. Once not being able to even breathe but now sat trying to process all that had happened “of course I am.” You grumbled looking down to see your breasts still out of your bikini top.
His hands reached for the two parts of triangle fabric before he pulled them together covering your breasts when you yawned “okay we are getting you to bed.” You wanted to argue with him but Trevor instead pressed a kiss to your lips.
It was enough to silence you honestly in surprise of such a soft gesture “I promise I’ll make sure to fuck you tomorrow.” He offered making your cheeks go red as he helped you off of the table.
You sent him a sweet smile ignoring the way that your thighs pressed together as the alcohol in your head made your eyes go heavy “don’t fall asleep before I figure out how to take your makeup off.”
The memories of that night stayed in your mind even as you lay on the seat at the back of the boat letting the sun coat you skin in a gorgeous glow. Even as you pretended to be asleep, no slumber would be powerful enough to nullify the power the boy’s gaze had. It wasn’t the sun that cooked your body, it was instead the attention that they sent you.
Last night was painful for them both as they had to sort themselves out, yet the sight of you in that new bikini reminded them of the important message: this is a marathon, not a sprint. Yet still Trevor couldn’t help but jump off of his seat as the moment that Quinn killed the engine. The area they picked was quiet, in the years they went not a single person beyond the group in the boat had been seen.
That was partly the reason why they picked it today. The soft marks on your neck reminded them of the night before, and they both needed more “you know I can feel you watching right?” You blurted out feeling the sun that once shone on you, now partially blocked by a body that stood over you.
Trevor smirked as he clicked his tongue “should have given us a show then.” He winked watching you sit up straight to look at him “do my best ones with a bit more music than this.” Your words were intended to be playful but instead Trevor pulled his phone out of his pocket as he scrolled to a playlist.
You expected to hear the soft sounds of whatever rap music that was on his Spotify playlist, but instead it was your own picks in the yearly lake house mixtape you crafted. Quinn had joined the two of you in the back of the boat “don’t be a brat.” His hand tugged through his hair making you remember how it felt between your fingers just hours before.
The boys knew you were good but letting them watch you in nothing more than what seemed to be your tiniest bikini as you let your ass hang in there air “fuck pretty girl.” Trevor couldn’t help palm his cock through his pants locking eyes with you.
You licked your lips attempting to crawl to him in the most sultry manner possible “should I finally make you feel good?” You asked as you placed your hands on his knees, using the little upper body strength that you have to push yourself onto him.
The sight made the boys mouths water as you straddled the Ducks player’s thighs “think I should fuck you yet?” The question oozed from your lips as he whimper, feeling your hand close over his “please.” Trevor nodded wanting every inch of you in that moment.
Your lips were soft against his ear “you wanna join my show and put one on for Quinn?” You sucker at his lobe grinding your cunt against him as you pulled his hand out from his pants bringing it to your breast instead “oh shit.” The boy whined as he swore he felt your folds spread for his cock.
Quinn had no shame letting his shorts go halfway down his thighs. His cock was in his hands as he pumped himself “need to hear your words.” You cooed pushing into your knees as you let the flimsy material of your bikini top catch his eyes.
Your breasts looked perfect - they always do - but now that sight has his shorts ready to rip at the seam “use me doll.” Trevor forced the words out from his lips with a deep breath, trying to keep some once of strength.
His eyes locked with yours as you froze, checking that he was being serious “want your cunt all over my cock.” He begged making you catch your lower lip between your teeth.
You got up making his expression grow hurt “gotta take these off unless you plan on fucking me through them.” You pointed out and you swore that there was something in the air that made them both contemplate it for a second.
But as they watched your bikini bottoms drop to the ground they realized what it was all truth “fuck Y/n please.” Trevor tugged his shorts down finally letting his cock hit his pelvic bone “you are so responsive.” You grinned letting your ass meet his cock.
He hissed at the feeling of you dragging his cock over your slit before you sunk down on it. You had opted to sit facing away from him so that you could have a similar effect on Quinn too “shit baby.” Trevor watched your legs spread on either side on the boat bench before you began to push off of his cock.
The movements were ones that the two of you quickly fell into letting him help you out as your walls hugged his cock letting him guide the pace “this pussy is heaven.” Trevor announced making Quinn grow jealous.
He had seen you first, so you were meant to be his. But somehow you were sat making Trevor feel good “wanna suck your cock.” You blurted out snapping your head to Quinn who nodded.
The boy tucked himself back into his shorts as he got up, paying little attention to the sounds of your skin slapping against Trevor’s lap. Your legs tucked to the sides, trying to make it easier for you to bounce as his cock grazed your sweet spot.
Trevor was feeling awfully possessive as his fingers dug into your sides taking charge of the thrusts pace “can’t have you move.” He gritted as you leaned forward to kiss Quinn, forcing Trevor to elongate his thrusts in order to feel your cunt in its entirety.
Quinn’s lips were rough against yours as you let your hand trail down to his waistband, tugging them down to his sides “you poor guy.” You clicked your tongue as you went to wrap your hand around his cock.
But Trevor lay a hard slap to your ass that made you jump “behave before we make sure to fuck you like the real whore that you are.” He warned tugging at the bow of your bikini letting the material fall from your breasts again “sorry Quinny.” You apologized batting your eyelashes at him as he smiled.
The older boy ran his fingers through your hair “think you know how to make it up to me.” He nodded as you dropped your head “cause you don’t get to cum until you’ve finished him off in your mouth.” Trevor’s words were meant to make you freeze with fear, but instead you took it as a challenge.
Your tongue ran over the underside of his cock as your eyes locked with Quinn’s “fuck it’s like she wants to be treated like a slut.” The Hughes boy grunted as he tugged his fingers through your hair.
Quinn was big in your mouth, his cock was hitting the back of your throat as he refused to let you even think about teasing him. Your eyes fluttered as they got into a rhythm. For every time that Trevor thrusted deeper into your cunt, Quinn would pull back.
Only for them to then switch roles “wonder what Jack would think seeing his best friend between us?” Trevor asked as he let his hand travel down your clit.
A moan let your lips when your cunt clenched around his cock, at the feeling of his fingers against your sensitive nub “think she likes the idea of being caught like that huh?” Quinn egged you on.
He let his head fall back when you tilted your head forward to take more of his cock in your mouth “this mouth was made to be fucked Jesus.” The captain let out a grunt as he felt your nails claw at this thighs attempting to help gain back some control.
Even with that you still gagged on his cock treating it like a drug that you needed so much more of, for each time Trevor’s cock hit your cunt deeper. For every time you swore you felt the ducks player in your brain, he seemed to push you that much further.
You were a moaning mess as your legs began to shake swearing that you felt a bruise form on your pelvis “aghhh.” Your saliva dripped down your chin as your cunt clamped around Trevor.
At that point Quinn was doing all of the work fucking your throat “fuck you are gonna make me cum.” He tugged at your hair making you moan as he felt his cock throb against your tongue.
Trevor was doing everything that he could to not coat the walls of your cunt as you clenched around him “play with her tits.” He knew you weren’t going to last long as your cunt gushed around him “she fucking loves it.” He added with a smirk as you whimpered, forcing your thighs closer together as the thought of them taking about you like you weren’t there made you squirm.
His hands were rough against your breasts and that combined with the feeling against your clit and how Trevors cock was practically in your stomach at this point, was too much for you. Tears flooded your waterline as your body thrashed against them.
Quinn felt his orgasm quickly approach as your throat tightened around his cock finally sending him over the edge “shit doll.” Quinn’s thrusts grew inconsistent as he pressed his fingers into the back of your scalp as he “fuck you are gonna make me cum.” He tugged at your hair making you moan as he felt his cock throb against your tongue.
So it seemed that one tug of your nipples was enough to finally let Quinn shoot his release into your mouth, sure to not waste a drop of it. Your nose was pressed against his skin as he caught his breath thrusting once or twice more. Certain that his cock was milked dry before he pulled out “holy shit.” As the captain fought to regain his breath again it sent Trevor into overdrive.
His pace grew animal hearing the grunt that left Quinn’s lips as he watched you swallow his release as if it was nothing “shit Z.” You whimper letting your own fingers tug at your breasts when you were spun around to face Trevor.
The boy was desperate to watch you cum “a deal is a deal pretty thing so go make a mess on my cock.” Was all you needed to hear to fall against him “fuck Trevor!” Your teeth sunk into his shoulder to muffle your moans when your walls clenched around his cock.
Your eyes rolled back into your head as you felt his release mark up your walls when he planted your hips against his to try to stop you from squirming anymore “holy shit.” You gasped as your chest heaved trying to process the black specs that were still in your vision.
They laughed watching Trevor reach behind you to do up your bikini top when they heard the sound of a boat engine “it seems we might have some company.” And with that you were back on the boat bench with a towel wrapped around your hips as you waited for a chance to put your bottoms back on.
The boys thought that the timing of the other boat was horrible, but you were just glad that you had came before it decided to.
You walked back to the house from the dock in Trevor’s shirt as you laughed priding it now as your own. Quinn watched the younger boy almost chase you up the grass making you squeal like you were going to lose, even as the hockey player had the cooler in his hands “guys.” You were quick to freeze the moment you realized that the front door was left wide open.
Trevor took the chance to bump into you as he grinned “told you I would get my shirt back.” He smirked until his eyes followed yours bringing up similar questions “nice to see someone finally show up.” Josh teased as he locked eyes with you.
This wasn’t the first trip you had met him on and your cheeks grew a soft tint of red when he looked down realizing that he had walked into a rather interesting dynamic “the three of us were just on the boat.” You explained bringing your hair in front of your neck to cover where Trevor had his hands on your throat “hey guys.” You and Trevor did little to hide your glares at Quinn as the eldest Hughes boy walked up.
Quinn awkwardly smiled looking towards his friends for any kind of help “was gonna tell you two last night but then you went to bed early.” He shrugged making the mental note to apologize to you after on in the day.
That was all hours ago and now it seemed that the plans of the summer of sex were now nothing more than a fun memory. You couldn’t sleep properly in the now fuller house so as you saw the time was three a.m, you opted for a midnight snack. It was a common occurrence for you as you continued to curse the creaky floorboards that sat beneath your feet.
Quinn had heard it as he too struggled to sleep with the sounds of Josh’s snores now coming from next to him “you really did fuck me over buddy.” Quinn sighed as he raked his fingers through his hair wanting to be mad at the boys for how their arrival was indeed a giant cock block. Quinn had tried convincing them to come at least a day or two after their proposed date, but the requests clearly fell onto deaf ears.
In the kitchen you stood with a bowl of fruits that you were grateful you cut up the day before. The mix of mango and watermelon was tasty on your tongue as you cracked open a white claw, figuring that you might as well give yourself the time to relax properly “you got room f’one more?” Quinn asked as he walked down the stairs to see you comfortably situated against the counter.
Your eyes sharpened as he continued his walk towards you “depends.” You sighed putting another mango cube into your mouth “your friends gonna come down and decide that they want some too?” The spite in your voice made it clear to him that you were still so beyond annoyed that he had done that to the two of you.
It made the captain scoff “look I didn’t ask for them to come early.” He shot back as he rolled his eyes “so don’t fucking bitch about it like it is my fault.” He warned you clearly not impressed by the new attitude you had.
However his words only seemed to light a fire beneath you “well what are you gonna do if I don’t stop being a brat?” Your words were curious as you bit into a piece of mango accidentally letting the juice of it slide down your chin and onto your t-shirt “because you aren’t really the kind of guy who is gonna fuck me back into my place.” You took a step closer to him as you reminded him of the game of never have I ever from last summer. When Quinn decided to let Jack and Trevor know that they were disgusting for having had slept with girls whilst everyone was under the roof of the house.
But this time something snapped in Quinn. His lips were quickly on yours as you swore you had never seen so much anger in his eyes “you think this is a fucking funny joke don’t ya?” The hockey player spat as he pushed you onto the counter where you placed the bowl behind you “hell you’re probably soaked at the thought of me fucking you for them all to hear.” He added pushing the sleep shirt you wore up to reveal the white panties you had beneath it.
He let out a grunt seeing the wet patch on them “why did you have to act like such a fucking brat if all you wanted was to be fucked?” The boy asked letting his two fingers collect your wetness as they made their way between your folds.
Your lips pressed together as you stopped yourself from letting out a moan, but that only made him more annoyed as he pushed through into your cunt “don’t tell me you’ve forgotten how to speak already?” Quinn spat as he brought his hand to rest around your throat “n-no.” Tears formed in your eyes as you felt the skin of his palm graze over your clit.
Quinn felt his cock grow hard as he felt you clench around him “please.” You begged bringing your hips up to meet his fingers as you so badly needed more “use your words.” He instructed as he began to slow down his thrusts using it as a warning against you.
You shook your head as your fingers gripped at the edge of the counter “need your cock.” You blurted out making his fingers force themselves even deeper into the gummy walls of your cunt “think you deserve it?” He taunted bringing his lips dangerously close to yours.
The boy wondered if he was being too rough with you all of a sudden “just wanna cum on your cock.” You whined not having a care in the world for the concerns that had flashed across his face.
Those words made him tug your panties down over your feet as he let them form into a ball “would hate for the boys to hear ya.” He pointed out placing them into your mouth as he pulled you off of the counter.
Before you knew it, you were facing the staircase with your stomach against the counter as Quinn lined up his cock with your entrance. He took the time to spread his precum across your slit as you let out a muffled moan “fuck Z was right about how good this cunt is.” Quinn let out a grunt as he felt your walls quick to hug him.
Trevor knew he shouldn’t have chugged the whole bottle of water before bed, but somehow he did it and was now wide awake after going to pee. But what stopped him from ending back in his room was the fact that your door was wide open and you were now nowhere in sight.
It made his lips form a frown until he saw the low light creep up the stairs that came from the kitchen. He thought that you must have just been tired wanting a snack and he smirked to himself as he went to offer you some company.
The creaks of the floorboards made you whimper as your eyes went wide “fuck princess maybe someone is gonna walk in on you being such a slut.” Your cheeks were stained from your tears as the boy continued to let his hips snap into yours.
The idea of it happening made your cunt clench around him as he lay a slap on your ass “but maybe it’s what you wanted all of this time huh?” Quinn taunted you as a muffled moan left your lips letting your spit soak your panties.
Your heart pounded against your ribcage as you grew nervous seeing the feet walk down the steps as you swore that Quinn’s pace had somehow gotten quicker as he made bruised your pelvis consistently pressing against your g-spot “would you look at that.” Trevor smirked as he caught sight of Quinn fucking you. You looked like a mess, Quinn’s hand in your hair and your mouth stuffed with your own panties “honestly I am offended that you guys didn’t wake me up for this.” He pointed out as he walked down the remainder of the steps.
Trevor felt his cock grow hard as he was finally able to see the proper sight of how Quinn fucked your cunt “let me hear ya now then.” His words were soft as he pulled your panties from your mouth.
With that came a string of loose moans that had your entire body shaking “doll is he fucking you good?” Trevor quizzed as he gripped your chin between his fingers.
You whimpered with a nod as your lips formed a pout feeling his free hand reach down to rub at your clit “woulda fucked you too but it seems I’m too late to the party.” The ducks player faked being hurt as the view of your blown pupils were enough to make him feel better.
Your cunt squelched as the sounds of skin slapping echoed off of the walls around you “shit.” Your head fell forward as you rested it on Trevors shoulder feeling your eyes screw shut as each boy played apart in your pleasure.
The boys locked eyes with each other as they knew they shared the common goal of making you cum “squeezing me so tight I might lose my dick in it.” Quinn warned as he tugged his fingers through your hair letting out a grunt as he felt his cock throb when you clenched.
Trevor felt your tears soak his skin as he forced your face up to look at him “what’s got you all sad pretty girl?” He taunted you pressing his thumb into your clit harder when you whimpered.
You felt your eyes flutter as pleasure built in your stomach as your hands gripped at Trevors shoulders “just wanna cum so bad.” You confessed feeling that if you hadn’t been between the two of them that you would have been on the floor in a mess.
It made the boys moan in delight as they began to think about how needy you were “oh I think you know how to ask is better than that.” Trevor clicked his tongue as Quinn wanted to reach over to kill him, worried that he couldn’t handle much more of fucking you.
Your throat felt raw as Trevor used his free hand to wrap around hit “please let me cum.” You pleaded “just wanna feel so good on his cock.” Trevor looked to Quinn who nodded “go on pretty girl.” Trevor nodded finally giving you the green light.
The coil in your stomach broke as Trevor’s pace of his rough fingers against your clit didn’t let up, much like Quinn’s thrusts as he fucked you through your orgasm “shit shit shit!” You chanted the course of words as your body shook clenching around Quinn as it trigged his own orgasm.
His release sprayed up the walls of your cunt placing his mark on you too as they didn’t stop their actions until you went quiet. Quinn’s cock hit the inside of your thigh as he pulled out of you.
Trevor brushed your hair out of your thighs as he heard the sound of the floor creaking once more meaning that someone was awake.
As your adrenaline crashed your eyes went wide pushing the boys away from you as you pulled your shirt down over your ass “panties?” You asked forgetting which boy hand them.
Trevor pulled it out of his pocket as he tapped your ankle to help you put them on “now I might not be a genius, but unless we want a real audience I suggest we go to bed.” Trevor pointed out as you nodded feeling Quinns cum soak your panties as it pressed against your slit.
You nodded as the boys helped you back up the steps picking up on your shaky legs it left them needing to carry you up the stairs.
Watching them leave your room you were brought back to the decision that you knew you needed to make, only one of them could get you. Sure they could share for the summer, but you had a job in one of their cities.
The summer had gone by in the blink of an eye and now you were in his apartment getting ready for the first day of work “happy first day to me I guess.” You teased coming down from your high as you had woken up to him between your legs.
It was truly his favorite place to be “I am just making sure that your day is off to the best start.” He shrugged as he crawled through the sheet and let his face hover over yours as he let your release act like a badge of honor.
You rolled your eyes as you laughed “you’re such a goof.” You mumbled as you kissed his lips shaking your head.
He melted into it as he grinned “but I’m your goof.” Trevor reminded you as he pulled you into his arms letting you roll onto his stomach as he kissed your head.
You hoped that Anaheim would be just as good to you as he was.
#quinn hughes smut#trevor zegras smut#qh43#tz11#quinn hughes x y/n#trevor zegras x y/n#quinn hughes imagines#quinn hughes oneshots#trevor zegras oneshot#trevor zegras imagines#trevor zegras x reader#quinn hughes x reader#amber writes fics
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Late nights - drabble
Tara Carpenter x fem!reader
Summary: sorry anon, i accidentally deleted the request 😓 but they asked for me to write a fic with tara in fem!reader’s hoodie (aka cuddly tara strikes again)
Words: 0.9k
A/n: hopefully a lil something to get me out of my writing slump. let’s hope this isn’t too bad considering i haven’t written in a few months 😅
You really didn’t mean to be out for so long
First your boss asks you to do one favor, then another, and next thing you know you’re at work for 4 hours more than you’re supposed to be. The asshole didn’t even pay you for all the extra shit you did! You made a mental note to go job hunting this week.
Maybe the gay club was looking for a stripper? Nah. Your girlfriend would get jealous
So you were angry. Angry about your paycheck
Next a few storm clouds roll up that night. Of course you forget to bring your rain jacket that day. Not to mention, rain feels like hail stones when you’re on your motorcycle. Apparently it’d be a cold day in hell before you dressed right for the weather
So along with being angry, you were cold and wet. Shitty might’ve been the lightest way you could’ve described your day
At least you could come home to your wonderful girlfriend in an apartment of your own. It took lots of convincing and hundreds of game nights to convince Sam to even accept the idea of you and Tara being alone together. Fortunately you were blessed with patience and homosexuality — two things that could withstand Sam’s will to protect her sister
Was the older Carpenter’s place on the floor right above you and Tara’s?
…
Yes. Yes it was.
But if it made your girlfriend and her sister happy, you had no reason to not be as well. Other than the elevator that never fucking worked but that was out of their hands
Your shirt and hair were absolutely soaked in rainwater by the time you reached your apartment door. The was a small trail of water behind you from where you walked but that might’ve been the least of your concerns. Fishing around in your damp pants for your keys, you fortunately find them without much effort
Opening the door with as little energy you can, you lock the door behind you and triple check you locked it just like Sam told you
Not wasting any time you slide off your wet shirt in the middle of your living room, throwing it on a chair and missing the younger Carpenter waiting on the couch for you half asleep
“Baby?” Tara rubs her eyes. You stand in the middle of your hallway like a deer in headlights. You were awfully vulnerable while wet and almost naked. Who knew.
Before you can respond, there’s shuffling behind you then something weighted and warm on your back. Tara’s leaning into you with her arms around your torso while you’re wet and almost naked in the middle of your hallway. What a sight.
“Why were you so late? You’re working tonight…” Your girlfriend’s hand dips a bit below your waistband and you have to resist the urge to shiver. From the cold? From Tara? Only god knew
“My boss had me do extra shit. I’ll find a different job that doesn’t have me out so late” You turn around to face Tara while her arms were still around you “I promise”
The younger Carpenter only hums into your chest without any sign of moving. So you don’t. It gives you the chance to really soak in the moment along with the rainwater on your skin. You only pull away when your girlfriend also starts to shiver
Of course she’s wearing nothing but a hoodie
Specifically, Tara’s wearing nothing but your hoodie
“How long have you been fighting sleep? Go to bed, love” You pick up your girlfriend with her legs wrapped around your waist and her arms loosely thrown around your neck
“Since you decided you hated me” Tara mumbles into your shoulder
“When was that?”
“When you didn’t come home on time”
“And I gave you a reason why I was late”
“Which doesn’t excuse you, because you could’ve hurried up” Tara plays with your bra strap as you stop walking toward your shared bedroom
“What I’m hearing is, you don’t want to take a late night shower with me? Even after a long day of work, where you could help me de-stress?” You say with a certain smugness in your voice
Your girlfriend whips her head up at your offer but you’ve already made it to your shared bed, not wasting a second to plop her down
“Waitbabypleaseididn’tmeanit-“ You’re already in the bathroom as Tara’s trying to scramble to you
“What? Sorry, love! Can’t hear you over the shower”
You had a childhood cat that always followed you around when you were younger. Tara reminded you of when your cat would scratch at the door whenever you went to the bathroom. Your girlfriend even had the scratching down just like your cat
When you were about to hop in the bath for a quick shower, something stops you from getting in. The imagery alone that Tara is probably leaning against the door waiting for you to get out is enough to pull at your heartstrings
You weren’t mean. You missed Tara as much as she missed you. It’s why she always wore your hoodies and you always took her shirts that fit you
So against your better judgment and the water bill you’re going to have to take Advil for, you unlock the bathroom door but you don’t open it
You’re both in the shower and you’re in Tara less than a second later
#jenna ortega x reader#jenna ortega#tara carpenter x reader#tara carpenter#scream#scream 6#tara carpenter scream#sam carpenter
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are you warm enough? ꨄ oscar piastri
oscar piastri x reader
warnings: reader has the flu, sad!reader over being sick [945 words]
request: Could I ask for a 💗 with Oscar and "Are you warm enough?" prompt?
note: oscar is def the type to take care of a sick partner?? i dont make the rules but it's true! this is part of my 1.5k celebration! feel free to request away!!
It was inevitable it was going to hit you. It had struck through your entire workplace, through all your study groups. One by one, person by person, they were taken down. By a measly thing like the flu. You knew it was going to take you out, and you were going to hate every second of it.
Selfishly, you were hoping it would strike you the week Oscar was gone, not wanting to waste any of the short time that you did have with him by being confined to bed with a sickness that wouldn’t go away. Unluckily, just hours before his plane was scheduled to touchdown in Melbourne, you felt the tickle begin to climb in the back of your throat.
By the time Oscar’s bags were tossed through the front door of your apartment, you were curled up on the couch, a heated blanket over you while a half-empty cup of tea remained on the coffee table in front of you. Your head was pounding, your nose was stuffed, your stomach was aching. You couldn’t keep any food down, and it felt like the apartment had hit negative temperatures in the few hours between waking up with a scratchy throat, and Oscar coming through the door.
“Honey, I’m home,” he singsonged, walking around the corner and stopping dead in his tracks when he observed your state.
You had told him about all the people who were getting sick at work, at school, about how you had been diligent about making sure you were washing your hands and keeping away from them. How you had told him how you didn’t want to ruin the little time the two of you were finally going to be able to spend together, so you were being extra careful.
Oscar felt the sympathy wash over him as he observed you peak out from underneath the blanket, a look of sadness etched around your face.
“Osc… you shouldn’t come close to me. I don’t want to get you sick, too,” you said.
Ignoring your words, Oscar moved closer to the couch before sitting down beside your sock-covered feet. He gently maneuvered them so they were placed over your lap, rubbing soothing circles on your now-exposed ankle.
“I’ll suffer if I have to. Can’t make you take care of yourself when you look like you might freeze to death if I even move this blanket.”
Just from the blanket simply touching his leg, he could feel the heat emitting off of it, the number ‘6’ displayed on the power screen, indicating it was at the highest level the blanket could reach.
“Do you want me to make you another tea? Maybe go pick up some soup? I can give my mum a call, see if she can make any and drop it off? Does that sound good?”
Your only response was a nod of your head at every question he threw at you, you weren’t one to ask for help when you were sick, always able to simply take care of yourself. But the idea of getting off the couch, moving from the warmth of the blanket to go and make yourself a tea, or dig through the cupboards to find a can of soup… it just didn’t sound worth it, at all.
“I don’t want to bug your mum, if you pass me my phone I’ll just order some soup here. I can get you something too, real food. But you may not want to eat near me, I haven’t really been able to keep anything down either,” the sniffles after every few words had Oscar grimacing.
“Oh hush, mum always has leftover soup. Someone’s always sick around there, she’d be more than happy to drop it off. Let me go make you a cup of tea, and I’ll be right back.”
It didn’t take him long to tinker around the kitchen, throwing your favourite teabag into the mug and heating up the kettle; texting his mum in the process to inquire about any recent soups she may have made. Unsurprisingly, dad had been sick just days before, excess of his favourite soup in a Tupperware container in the freezer. Nicole had promised to get it thawed up and dropped off before sunset, a message of ‘get well soon, honey’ likely to be written in black ink on the lid.
Holding the warm cup of tea in front of your face, he gestured for you to sit up, a groan emitting from your body as you did so. Gently placing the cup into your hands, he sat down next to you, a small frown marring his face.
“Are you warm enough, baby? I can go pull down a few more blankets from the cupboards? Or turn the heating up?”
Shaking your head, you placed the mug down on the coffee table in front of you, before snuggling up into his side.
“Can you just hold me? You’re always so warm, and I just want to be snuggled up with you, right now,” you said.
The arm that was pressed between your two bodies moved out of the grasp, wrapping an arm tightly around your shoulders before pulling you in closer to his body.
“I’ll hold you whenever you want me to, even if you’re going to have to be the one to explain to the team why I have the flu next week.”
The only response you gave him was a shrug of your shoulders. You had already grappled with the fact you were probably going to get him sick, if you had to explain to the team why one of their prized driver’s was now sick… then so be it.
y'all... i didnt realize how popular oscar was until this celebration i have SO many requests for him lol. i hope everyone loves this, and as always, thank you for celebrating with me!!
#oscar piastri#oscar piastri x reader#f1 x reader#f1 x you#oscar piastri x you#oscar piastri imagine#oscar piastri fanfic#f1 one shot#f1 fic#f1 fanfic#formula 1 imagine#formula 1 one shot#formula 1 blurb#oscar piastri blurb#blurb#writing#fluff#pierregazly's 1.5k celebration
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the girl next door 7
Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such as age gap, manipulation, chronic illness, noncon/dubcon, coercion, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.
Summary: A new neighbour moves in and upends your already disarrayed life.
Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself.
This lewk but silverfox
Your body is stiff. You blame your late-night drawing session hunched over the folding table. You feel it in your neck and shoulder. You sit up and groan, rubbing your muscles as you try to loosen the knots. You roll your arms as you stand up, yawning as you rub your eyes.
A dewy breeze flows in. The air feels like rain but the density has yet to break. You remember vaguely in the middle of the night cracking the window to cool off, your room stagnant and stale.
You near the window in your baggy shirt, dampened slightly with your sweat. It’s caught under your chest as you bulge against the fabric. You pull it free as you stand in front of the pane and blanch as you see movement on the other side. Shoot.
Your eyes meet Steve’s as he closes the window across from yours. He can feel the approaching storm too. He smiles and gives a two-fingered wave. You lift your hand weakly, barely extending your fingers before you tug shut the curtains. How much did he see? How much could he see?
You go out to get the day started. The overhead light of kitchen blares yellow across the space and you put the coffee pot on to brew. As you wait, you tidy the table, once more cluttered with your mother’s forgotten distractions. The crossword book, several pens, a home magazine, and several wrappers.
You slow the pour of coffee into your mug as you hear your mom’s bedroom door. You stare at the doorway until she appears. She limps to the table and sits heavily. You put the cup before her and grab another for yourself. She mutters and leans her head in her hand. She was home late last night.
You go to grab her inhaler from the bathroom. Once more, it’s missing. You return and find it on the counter hidden beside a used plate. It's only then you notice the blackened frozen fries on the cookie sheet. What the heck?
“Ugh, that man,” she croaks, letting it roll into a laugh, “he convinced me to have a little wine after the milkshake.” You put her inhaler in front of her. She raises her head and scowls. She rubs the furrow between her brows. “And then another. And another.”
You don’t even remember her getting home. You were up until one in the morning drawing. She must have been much later. How hadn’t you heard her make all this mess?
You sip your coffee around cleaning up. You wash the glass from the milkshake Steve brought over and set it aside. Your mother hacks and clears her throat.
“Mm, he’s too nice,” she mutters, “told him you didn’t need that. Too much sugar. You don’t even like strawberry.”
You hide your frown. You like strawberry. You’re not sure why she thinks otherwise. She’s never really asked.
“I’ll bring the glass back--”
“You remember your manners,” she girds before she hums into her coffee cup. She gulps through her wet lips noisily. “I don’t need you ruining this.”
“I will, mom.”
“Ugh,” she stands up with a groan, “I need my chair.”
Her hand trembles and the cup with it. She spills a little over the sides but doesn’t pay attention to it. You dump the tray of burnt fries and put it in the sink. You just cleaned this place top to bottom. You don’t think you’re that messy but it’s always a disaster.
You clean the rest of the dishes and put them away. Your mom hollers for more coffee and you bring the pot with you to refill her cup. She leans it on her chest and closes her eyes.
“I’m going to take the glass back now, I guess.”
“Mph, do whatever,” she utters irritably.
You trod back to your room and change into real clothes; straight-legged jeans and a stripped jersey tee. You just want to get this over with. It’s so awkward. You would rather your mom just take it back the next time she goes over but she’s in rough shape. It must be the alcohol. She’s not really supposed to have any.
You grab the glass and put on your shoes. As you come out, there’s a speckling of rain falling from the sky. You go up the walk and around the sidewalk, coming back down the pavement squares to Steve’s porch. You stop and look up at his front door. You climb the steps and drag your feet to the door.
You tap the bell. It’s one of those ones with the camera built-in. You feel overly conscious as you stand before the lens. The door opens before you can prepare yourself.
“Hey, sweetie,” Steve greets, “how are you?”
“Erm. Okay. Here.”
You hold out the glass. He doesn’t take it. He leans on the doorframe and smile.
“Crummy day, huh? Supposed to thunderstorm soon,” he comments, “too bad, I was really wanting to get that pool going.”
“Mm, yeah,” you keep the glass raised before you.
“Oh well, guess I’ll have to figure out what to do all pent up. Maybe a movie night? With all this moving, I’m way behind.”
You look at his chest, staring at the short-sleeved button up with chagrin. What is he talking about? Why is he talking so much?
“You got any suggestions? You youngins always know what’s hip,” he shakes his head and laughs, “sorry, I sound old, don’t I?”
“No,” you answer dully.
“No what? No suggestions or no I don’t sound old?” He challenges.
Your eyes go round and you look him in the face. “I don’t know.”
“I’m teasing--”
“Here,” you wiggle the glass at him.
He takes it, his fingers brushing against yours. You let it go and recoil. You bare your teeth strangely and back away, “thanks, er. Bye.”
You turn and cringe at the grey sky. You trudge off the porch and cut across the lawn, too mortified not to trod over his grass. You clamber up the front steps and quickly shut yourself inside the house. You hiss at yourself as you press your back to the door.
“Don’t slam the goddamn door,” your mother sneers, “Jesus. No wonder this place is falling apart.”
🏠
It’s one of those days where you’re just sad. You can’t pinpoint why. It’s just a vague malaise that won’t leave. Even as the sun beams and deepens to a soft evening hue, you can’t see a light among the dark.
You don’t know how long you’ve been like that. Under your covers, crying for no good reason. It just hurts to be. You keep your arm folded over your pounding head. You just want to sleep and yet you can’t cross the barrier into unconscious.
You give up and roll onto your back, pulling the blanket to your waist. You exhale and stare up at the ceiling. You’re head swims from the deluge of tears. You sop them up with the sheet and sit up. Your head is full and throbbing.
You get up, bleary-eyed, and muddle your way through reality. You pull open your door and find the bathroom on instinct alone. You shut yourself in and blow your nose. The effort has you even more dizzy. You shake your head, trying to clear out the fog, and turn on the cold water. You throw it across your face, holding a wet palm to your forehead to try to ease the tension.
Your ears tickle with a strange noise. A low drone. Like bass on the front television. Now and again, your mom will amp up the TV but it’s unexpectedly loud. You twist off the faucet and stand straight. You dry off and head back into the hall, peering down at the shifting light glaring from the living room doorway.
“Woahhh,” the voice catches you unaware as someone collides with you from behind in the dim hallway. You stumble and turn to face Steve as popcorn scatters onto the floor, tumbling over the brim of the bowl. The smell tugs at your stomach, “sorry sweetie, I didn’t see you there.”
You look at his silhouette, unable to make out any of his features. You didn’t even know he was there. Your mother didn’t even warn you. You suspect that may have been purposeful.
“Sweetie?”
“Sorry,” you back up, “didn’t mean... to get in the way.”
You turn and shuffle back to your room. He follows, “your mom said you weren’t feeling good. Hope you get better soon, but if you’re interested, we’re watching a movie.”
Your bedroom door is wide open. If you’d known, you would’ve been sure to shut it tight.
“No, thank you,” you grab the handle and slowly shift the door behind you.
“No problem,” he calls after you, “offer stands if you change your mind.”
You click the door shut gently and stay on the other side, listening for his footsteps. He lingers, a bit too long, and it’s only as he walks away that you go back to your bed. There’s something strange about him. Or maybe it’s just you.
#steve rogers#dark steve rogers#dark!steve rogers#steve rogers x reader#drabble#series#the girl next door#au#silverfox au#mcu#marvel#captain america
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Only An Almost (VI)
Chapter 6: Hiding
Hello!! Here is a new chapter!
I hope you’ll like this chapter! Please, tell me what you think!
*************************************
Pairing: Hozier x fem!reader, friends with benefits AU
Warning: No explicit smut or nsfw content, but there are sexual themes and heavy make-out sessions (it’s a friends with benefits AU, I can’t really escape it), so 18+ only!
Summary: Andrew has been in love with you for years, and yet he has never confessed his feelings. But a night out celebrating the engagement of his best friend changes everything. However, you don't seem ready to be with him just yet. You make him an offer that he can't refuse... but will certainly regret.
Word Count : 2387
Masterlist for the series – Hozier’s Masterlist – Main Masterlist
Andrew needed to talk to you.
After his conversation with Sam, there was no doubt left in his mind that he needed to tell you how he truly felt. This… situation, this… arrangement… it couldn’t go on. It was hurting him too much. Having you for a moment, and then being back to square one, holding himself back all the time, and this fool’s hope that you could feel the same if he waited…
He couldn’t keep on doing this. Another week and two nights with you had passed, and Andrew was now resolute. As he was knocking on your front door and then digging his hands in his pockets, he kept on repeating the words he had prepared beforehand. It was so much easier to write things down, he had sketched his speech this morning.
I know you don’t want a relationship at the moment, I understand that.
He knocked a second time as you weren’t opening the door.
But I’m not sure this… arrangement of ours is a good idea. I see you as more than just a friend. Way more than that. And I don’t think that I can keep on being casual with you.
At long last, the keys turned in the lock, and he stood a little straighter, taking a deep breath.
I get it that this is not the right time for you, and that’s alright. I’ll wait. I’ll wait all the time you need to have a proper date and a proper relationship with you. I’ll wait for you.
You opened the door.
I’ll wait for you, Y/N, if you want to give me a chance…
“Andy? Were we… had we something planned for today?”
“Hi! Erm… not exactly, but like… I haven’t seen you in a few days, I was getting worried you might have been eaten by some roaming spirit or the monster under your bed or something…”
He mentally slapped himself for such a weird and stupid joke.
You granted him an amused smile nonetheless, he was even ready to believe that you were struggling not to laugh.
“I’m alright, I’m just super busy with work.”
“You look tired.”
You looked exhausted, actually, with bags under your eyes, dishevelled hair…
“Thanks, I guess…”
He rolled his eyes.
“It’s not what I meant. You are always stunning. But you do look like you haven’t had a proper rest in a few days.”
“I have so many things to do…”
You heaved a sigh, and it was easy to see that you were buzzing with anxiety.
“Can I come in?” Andrew finally asked, but he was surprised when you hesitated.
“I have some work to do…”
“It’s Sunday afternoon, you’re not supposed to be working on Sunday.”
“Andy…”
“Do I really need to beg?”
He gave you a crooked smile, the ones he thought were almost cocky but behind which he badly hid that he was worried. You heaved a sigh and let him in.
“Tea?” you asked, although you were already grabbing the kettle by the time Andrew had rid himself of his coat.
“Thanks,” he smiled as he sat down by your table.
He waited until you were sitting with him before speaking again. He reckoned that you needed to be eased into the conversation he was aiming for, so he started with niceties.
“What has you so busy then?”
“Work. Important projects.”
“What kind?”
“Look, Andy… I appreciate the thought, but I don’t have time for this…”
“You can’t keep on working without taking a break… it’s Sunday.”
“Like you’re never working on Sundays.”
“I’m a musician, not an office employee. If I want to, I can decide not to work for an entire month, and no one is going to say a thing about it.”
“Touché…”
“Seriously, though… I’m just worried. Why don’t you take a small break with me, huh?”
“Andy, if you came to get laid, I’m not in the mood…”
“I didn’t…”
He frowned as he stared at you, offended by the thought. Your expression softened.
“Sorry. I’m a little on edge.”
“I haven’t heard from you in several days, I was just stopping by to check up on you.”
“I know… I’m sorry, that’s very nice of you, actually. I’m just so…”
“Stressed? Tired? On the verge of a nervous breakdown?”
“All of the above…”
Andrew drank a gulp of tea or two, before standing up in a jolt.
“Come on, go get changed.”
“What?”
“You need some fresh air. Some fresh air, and a nice walk. Come on. Get properly dressed, we’re leaving.”
“Andy…”
“You look like a zombie, you need a break.”
“I thought I was still stunning.”
“You are. Don’t ask me how you do it. Come on!”
You smiled, and seemed to hesitate one last time before getting up as well. You went to your tiptoes to kiss his cheek, and he bent to meet you halfway.
“Thank you, Andy. Where are we going?”
“I’ll find a nice spot, I promise.”
How could Andrew bring up this conversation?
He kept his words light and playful during the short drive to the spot he knew you would like. Some quiet path winding through the Wicklow hills, one that you knew already, but didn’t go there often. It was an easy, peaceful walk. Perfect to focus on nature, and get out of your head. It would do you good.
You were finally starting to relax, and Andrew didn’t dare to bring up the subject he so desperately needed to discuss. Partly because he didn’t want to stress you out again, partly because he was too afraid.
You joked around and spoke of unimportant but lovely things while you walked, his fingers brushing yours every once in a while, blaming the uneven terrain for the ghostly touch. But he didn’t reach out, didn’t hold onto you. He didn’t dare to.
You had brought some snacks with you, prepared while Andrew was pestering you to hurry. He decided that he would talk to you while you took a break to eat them. Yes, that sounded good…
“How often do you come here?” you asked him after a short silence.
“To this spot you mean? I don’t know… Haven’t come in a few weeks, that’s for sure.”
You giggled, and he slowed down to walk next to you again.
“You and your long legs. Wait for us mortals, would you?”
“Only if you’re nice to me.”
“I’ll give you a snack.”
“Hmm… that could work.”
“Or actually, never mind that. Go ahead and play the lure. So the beasts will attack you and spare me.”
“The beasts? What beasts? The squirrels? A bird?”
“There are badgers everywhere around here.”
“True, but I’m too skinny for their taste, I’m sure.”
“A bite-size ankle.”
“Nothing but bone, I’m afraid. Not enough sustenance. They’ll have to get to you, eventually.”
“Naughty.”
You walked further along the quiet path, laughing and joking and talking nonsense. And this was nice, unbelievably nice. There was just something about you that made Andrew’s shoulders lighter, his world brighter.
Love. It’s love.
You took a turn, came to particularly nice spot, breaking free from the trees of the forest trail. There was a clear view of the hills from there, and the valleys below.
“This is so nice. You were right, I was cooked up at home, and then at the office… I needed this. I needed some time outside, to clear my head.”
The Wicklow hills rolled before you, in various shades of green, the bluish grey of a stream running between them. You sat down together on an old stone wall, and you shared your snack with him: some slices of apple and a few biscuits.
“It’s so nice out here. We had not done that in a while, had we?” you went on, before taking a bite at the piece of apple in your hand.
The fruits were sweet and sticky with juice and sugar. The flesh had turned a little brown, oxidized by the air. Andrew hummed in agreement as he took another piece.
“Yeah, a few months, I’d say.”
“Longer than that. I don’t think we’ve done this since you’ve been back.”
“Maybe you’re right.”
He saw your gaze softening with sadness, something close to melancholy.
“How do you do it?”
Andrew frowned in response, silently asking what you meant. You looked at the landscape again as you answered.
“The touring. The constant travelling. Always being away from home. How do you do it?”
Andrew shrugged.
“It’s not as bad as it sounds. I get to do what I love, I can’t complain about it, I reckon. I’m so lucky people across the world love my music, that… total strangers on another continent can find something to relate to in my songs… It’s more than I’ve ever hoped for concerning my career. I’m very grateful for that.”
“You didn’t answer my question.”
He couldn’t refrain a small smile at that. You were always so stubborn, never letting him get away with things. He loved that about you, it was endearing.
He set his gaze on the landscape too, tracked some clouds drifting in the blue sky. The weather was so lovely this afternoon… he wondered when it would turn to rain.
“It’s tough,” he admitted. “On one hand I’m unbearably lucky. I love travelling, I’m going to places I would never have dreamt of visiting. I meet amazing people. I get to perform my songs, and people come to see me. And I would lie if I pretended that I don’t love touring. But it’s… it’s hard to be away for so long. You live out of a suitcase. You don’t have a proper bed, not to mention your own. You never sleep twice in the same place, you’re always busy, always torn in a thousand directions at once… you’re never on your own, there are constantly at least five people in the same room as you. Sleeping in a bus is hell. You’re… exhausted, all the time. Stressed because of all the things to do, stressed about the schedule, the interviews, the nerves before a show… And I miss home. I miss my parents, and my brother. I miss my friends. I miss my house, and my dog, and my bees, and just… this. I miss this place. And I miss you…”
He heaved a sigh, forcing himself to look at you again, feeling your stare upon him.
“But in the end, I love it. There’s nothing as rewarding as hearing someone else singing something I have written. There’s nothing as exhilarating as being on stage, and performing and… It feels like I was born to do that. It just feels so right. It’s the same when I write music. It just feels right.”
Slowly, you nodded, a gentle smile on your lips.
“I understand. But it sounds lonely.”
“I’m literally never on my own, that’s an issue, actually… to me it is, at least.”
“But you’re not with your family. Can you say that you’re with the people who matter most to you?”
“Some of them are.”
“What about most of us?”
He granted you a sad smile.
“Yeah… yeah, I miss all of you.”
You looked away again, and he was surprised to catch a glimpse at tears in your eyes.
“I don’t think I could do it. Not just travelling but… just… how can you be with someone if you’re never here?”
It was his turn to look away to hide rising tears. His throat tightened, his heart dropped, his chest was collapsing…
Was that why you didn’t want to be with him? Why you kept him at arm’s length?
“It can be difficult,” he nodded.
“Is that why you broke up with your ex?”
“There were a bunch of reasons. But it was one of them, yeah.”
“I… I don’t think I could handle it. Waiting for you to come back…”
“I understand.”
“Don’t get me wrong, when I proposed our… arrangement… it wasn’t because it was you. I… I genuinely don’t want to date anyone at the moment. My job is a lot. And I… I’m a little lost these days. What I’m trying to say is that… I feel lonely, sometimes. But I can’t be in a relationship right now. But if I proposed for us to remain friends, it wasn’t because I was rejecting you specifically. Do you see what I mean?”
“I think so… but I… I mean like… my career means that… if you were in a position that allowed you time and space for a relationship, you would still not choose me, right? That’s what it means.”
“I…”
But you grew quiet, and he wasn’t stupid. His vision was blurred with tears: a mix of several shades of green, a splash of blue and some grey and white. A cloud was passing.
He had come all the way here with you to talk, and he had his answer.
“You’re… you’re still okay with what we agreed on, right?”
What could he answer?
No… no, it hurts more than anything I’ve ever experienced. But I can’t lose you for good. I’m not strong enough to survive it…
“Had I been anything else but a touring musician… would you have wanted to date me?” he asked, voice deeper than usual, unbearably fragile.
You didn’t say anything; he took your answer for a no.
He was being a fool…
“I can’t think like that, Andy.”
“Why not?”
“For the same reason you can’t stay for the entire night. That we can’t have pet names. That you can’t kiss me now.”
He blinked his tears away to look at you, frowning, silently encouraging you to keep going.
“I can’t let you break my heart, Andrew.”
His lips parted at your words, he tried to wrap his mind around their meaning, blinked a few times.
It was… It was him. He was the problem. Him, and his job. The same pattern it had always been, all over again, but with you this time around.
You cleared your throat, stood up in a hurry.
“Come on, let’s finish this hike!”
He looked at you as you started to walk away, but didn’t move a muscle.
You could have loved him, and he would still stand no chance at all…
#andrew hozier byrne#hozier#the hoziest#hozier x reader#hozier x you#hozier x fem!reader#hozier x y/n#hozier fanfiction#hozier series#series#fanfic#fanfiction#writing
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hi you said you were free to request someone you haven’t mentioned so i’m wondering if you’d be willing to write something for trent alexander arnold?? anything you won’t but i love angsty -> fluff
i look in people’s windows | trent alexander-arnold
summary: you struggle to move on from your break up with trent until one day you have to face him at your favorite coffee shop
warnings: none
word count: 1.2k
a/n: this wasn't very specific which was great (in a way) because the angst to fluff plot gave me an idea for my tortured athletes series! (i also didn't mean to make this so long, but i hope you enjoy it)
the tortured athletes department series
you're not proud to admit that you still stalk your ex-boyfriend's friends on social media just to see a glimpse of him. it wasn’t that hard considering that you live in liverpool, if you wanted to see his face you just had to go outside and he will be there in any billboard. but there was something more personal about casually watching him on someone’s post. sometimes you just look up liverpool’s account to see him during matches or making fun challenges.
you consider blocking him, blocking his friends and everyone else remotely associated with him, you even did it for two full weeks, but it was impossible not to see him everywhere you look. sure, he was not showing up on your phone, but he was in the streets, he was on the tv playing a game, or acting in a random commercial; he was even in the supermarket next to a product he was the face of.
trent alexander-arnold was absolutely everywhere and he was impossible to escape.
so you unblock him and everyone else and you just see him. not everyday, of course, you weren’t gonna get over him if you stalked his socials every day. maybe once every week you look up one account, and then another, and then another, and you see him, and once you do you turn your phone off and do something else and maybe, you forget about him for a moment.
sometimes you wonder what would happen if your eyes met one more time. would you realize you got over him? would you fall back in love? would he even say hello?
“what can i get you?” the barista behind the counter asks you.
“hi, an iced vanilla latte, please.” you smile. the guy nods and charges you, moving quickly to the next client.
you sit down in a booth while waiting for your name to be called, and play with your phone in the meantime. suddenly, a huge shadow blocks the natural light that was hitting your face and you shift your face from your phone to the stranger who sits in front of you, only it wasn’t a stranger at all.
“y/n.” trent whispers your name with a smile.
you were a bit shocked to see him in person, like it was the first time you lay your eyes on him all over again.
“hey.” you respond. he chuckles at your lack of words.
“i knew it was you the second i heard your voice.” he points at the register. “an iced vanilla latte as always.” he repeats your coffee order and only then you register the situation.
before you have a chance to say something, you hear your name being called throughout the whole coffee shop, announcing your order was ready.
“stay there.” he says before you have the chance to even stand up. “i’ll go get it.” you didn’t know what to say so you just nodded and he made his way to the front, claiming your coffee and getting it to you.
“thank you.” you say when he was finally in front of you again.
neither of you say anything for a few seconds. you didn’t feel uncomfortable at all, but it did feel odd to be there with him, not saying anything.
“nice jacket.” you mention, just to fill the silence.
“you like it?” he unconsciously touch it and smiles at you like he always did.
“mhm, it's pretty.” you take a sip from your coffee.
“i haven’t seen you in a while. how are you?” he asks.
you were about to answer when you got interrupted again by the barista calling his name to get his coffee. he quickly made his way to the front and back, sitting in your booth in no time.
“what is that?” you ask with a grimace, looking at his order. it was some sort of juice? you couldn’t really tell.
“it’s a pomegranate lemonade.” he shrugs. you arch a brow and he shakes his head smiling. “don’t look at me like that when you drink vanilla flavored coffee.”
a laugh escapes your lips and you just agree, still confused by his drink of choice but not making any more comments.
“how are you?” he repeats his question.
“good.” you lie to him. “you?”
“bad.” he says.
“oh?” this took you by surprise. “what happened?” you try to remember if maybe he lost any big game recently or if something happened to any friend of his, but you can’t remember anything of relevance.
“i just…” he exhales and takes a sip from his lemonade. “i’ve been missing you. a lot, actually. a bit more everyday.”
your face grows hotter by the confession and you just look at him without reacting.
“why are you saying this?” you ask the first thing that comes to your mind.
“because.” he shrugs. “why not? i’ve miss you so much since we broke up i can’t think of anything else, and now i feel like i’ve think you so much i actually manifested you and now we're both at the same coffee shop at the same time, i mean, what are the odds of that, you know?” he rambles and you feel your heart beating in your throat.
to be fair, this was the same coffee shop you both used to go to while you were still dating. and you both still live in the same city. and you’ve been stalking him on social media so you might’ve manifested him as well by accident.
“you woke up brave this morning, didn’t you?” you joke lightly and the shadow of a smile takes over his lips. “i didn’t know you still think about me.” you say instead of confessing your feelings back at him.
“you’re not an easy one to forget.” his eyes clocked in with yours and you felt like everything was the way it used to be.
why did you even break up in the first place? looking at his chocolate eyes you couldn’t even remember anymore. you finally clear your throat to speak, but he interrupts you.
“you don’t have to say anything right now,” he pleads. “i don’t… if you’re gonna say something that’s gonna break my heart for good, i don’t think i’m prepared to hear it just yet.”
his eyes look away from yours, but you’re still watching him.
“i think about you too.”
your voice was barely a whisper, but it was loud enough for him to hear it and look at your eyes, straight into your soul.
“we should talk, no?” you knew he was battling a triumphant smile but he kept a straight face for you. you nod. “wanna take a walk?” he points to the window with his head, but you shake your head.
“it’s too cold outside.” you say and he laughs, shaking his head as well.
“you and cold.” he rolls his eyes amused.
“hey.” you slap his arm playfully. “i have sensitive skin.” you defend yourself.
at that moment you felt grateful for this little plot from destiny that had brought you and trent together again. you didn’t have to wonder ‘what if, you didn’t have to avoid seeing him downtown, you didn’t have to look into people's windows anymore. his eyes meet yours one more time, and now you know.
#trent alexander arnold x reader#trent alexander arnold#trent alexander arnold one shot#liverpool x reader#trent alexander arnold fluff#trent alexander arnold x y/n#football#football one shot#trent alexander arnold x you#trent alexander arnold fanfic#trent alexander arnold imagine#taa66#taa18#trent alexander arnold gif#trent alexander arnold angst
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Fall Into Me - Chapter Eight: We'll Dance in the Street like Nobody's Watching
dbf!Joel x f!reader
Summary: Joel is hanging on by a thread as a single father to a tenacious 10-year-old Sarah. Feeling like he's drowning, like the world is about to spit him out, he needs some help before he breaks in half. At your dad's insistence, you show up in his life and change everything.
Story is inspired by the song Fall Into Me by Forest Blakk. Chapter titles will be lyrics from the song.
Word Count: 3.8k
Chapter Warnings: Explicit, under 18 take a hike. No outbreak AU. Lots of feelings, unprotected p in v, flirting, dads being dads. Two idiots falling in love and finally fucking admitting it. Joel is his own warning. Age gap of about 9 years (Reader 24/25, Joel 33/34). No use of y/n. Reader has a nickname used only by her dad and Joel uses various terms of endearment (darlin', sweetheart, etc.).
This chapter includes the scene that sparked the entire story idea. I've been patiently waiting for it to see the light of day. hope you enjoy!
Thank you so much to everyone who reads this self-indulgent story and extra thanks to those who comment and/or reblog - you all make me feel like a rock star!
Dividers by the wonderful @saradika-graphics
Chapter Seven | Main Masterlist
“So, how was it?” Grilling you for the past twenty minutes, Emily was relentless in her pursuit to find out just how good Joel was in bed, after congratulating you on the new job, of course. “Come on! I need to know!”
“Alright, alright! I had no idea you were such a needy bitch. Is your hubby not dicking you down enough or what?” you laughed before regaling her with tales of Joel’s prowess.
“I fuckin’ knew he’d be big and know how to use it! He just gives off that BDE, ya know what I mean? Just how big are we talkin’, anyway?”
Rolling your eyes, you laughed again. “Well, I didn’t fucking measure it, but it’s a definite handful. Besides, you’ve never even met him, Em! How could you possibly get that vibe?”
“I’ve seen photos and heard stories, that’s more than enough to pick up on that sorta thing,” Emily replied with the confidence of someone who damn well knows what she’s talking about. “I need to know more. Gimme all the details!”
“Yeah, yeah. Speaking of BDE, I gotta finish getting ready. Joel said he had something special planned for tonight to celebrate me getting the teaching job.”
“I bet he does. You’re gonna get another deep dicking from that huge—”
“Bye Em!” you cut her off and hit end call before she could carry on anymore.
Tossing the phone on your bed, you finished putting a light layer of makeup on, putting in a little more effort to look good tonight. Ten minutes later, dressed in a pair of dark, fitted jeans and a dark blue, long-sleeve, vee neck shirt that showed just a touch of cleavage, you wandered out to the living room.
“Alright Dad, I’m off. I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?” Leaning over the back of his recliner, you press a kiss to his balding head.
“Have fun on your date and be careful, Spud. Call me if you need a ride home or anything,” he replied, patting your hand. You turned to leave, grabbing a light jacket from the hook by the door just in case, when your dad’s voice carried from the living room. “It’s funny, Joel told me he has a date tonight, too.”
Freezing for a moment, you squeak, “Oh, yeah?”
“Uh huh. Quite a coincidence me thinks.” He paused again, but you were at a loss for words and grateful that he couldn’t see your expression. “Enjoy your night, kiddo.”
Knowing a dismissal when you heard one, you take off through the door. Your mind raced on the short drive to Joel’s. He knows. Your dad so knows. You start to panic for a moment wondering if he’s upset before the realization hits that he didn’t seem remotely mad about it. More like he got a kick out of the idea and enjoyed teasing you. You and Joel had to fess up very soon, but that was a tomorrow problem. Tonight was meant to be all about you and Joel.
Walking through the front door, you expected to find Joel in the living room or kitchen, but the downstairs was empty. Lugging your overnight bag up the stairs, you thought maybe he’d be in his room or the bathroom still getting ready, but again, no sign of him. Where the hell was he?
Making your way down the stairs, you peeked out the window to make sure you didn’t imagine his truck in the driveway when you parked – it was there, right next to your car. He had to be around here somewhere. The sound of soft music hit your ears suddenly. Following the sound, you slipped out the back door and gasped.
A soft glow spread across the yard from lights strung from tree to tree, a plaid tablecloth covered the patio table on which sat a vase of brightly colored tulips, an open bottle of pinot noir, two stemless wine glasses, and two covered plates. Just beyond the patio, a hammock hung between two large live oaks with another set of string lights dangling above it. As your eyes took it all in, Joel stood off to the side watching you with a warm smile.
“Joel,” you whispered, afraid to disturb the dream-like quality of the moment, his name a drawn-out breath in the air when you finally turned to him. His dark eyes glinted from the string lights as he stepped forward out of the shadows, one hand stretched out towards you. There was no hesitation in reaching for him and you clung to each other for a few minutes before he stepped back to pull out a chair for you.
“Thank you,” you whispered, settling into the seat. When Joel took his place across the table from you, you added, “This is so lovely, Joel.”
A bashful smile graced his lips as he removed the covers from the plates and filled the wine glasses. Your gaze soaked in every little movement he made, in awe of the gorgeous man before you and all he’d done to make this evening special. Holding his glass up, he toasted to you. “Here’s to your new job and the start of a very rewarding career. Congrats darlin’.”
Clinking your glass against his lightly, you beamed at him. He looked so handsome, thick curls pushed back away from his face, tanned skin glowing in the soft lighting. “Thank you, Joel.” Already buzzing from the way he made you feel, you sipped lightly at the wine before digging into the meal before you.
Bursts of flavor hit your palette at the first bite, the chicken cooked to perfection and the sun-dried tomatoes adding just the right tang to the red pesto coating the rigatoni. A soft moan escaped before you caught it, cheeks heating up with the way Joel looked at you with hooded eyes.
“I reckon you like it?” he asked, a teasing lilt to his gravelly voice.
“This may be the most delicious thing I’ve ever tasted, Joel. Did you make this?” You took another bite, savoring the flavors that exploded in your mouth.
“Mmhmm. It’s my mama’s recipe, she made it a lot when we were younger, and it’s always been my favorite. I’m glad you like it.” He watched you enjoy another forkful, obviously proud.
“I don’t just like it, Joel. This is fuckin’ delicious. I didn’t know you could cook like this!”
His cheeks turned pink as he cleared his throat. “I can’t, usually. I practiced a lot with this one.” That melted your heart further.
You ate your fill, making small conversation between bites, until your wine glass was empty, and your belly satisfied. Joel poured you another glass, which you sipped leisurely as he cleared the table and placed the dirty dishes in the dishwasher for later. He wouldn’t let you lift a finger.
“Dance with me?” he said upon his return outside, voice deep and gravelly as he plucked the glass from your hand and placed it on the table.
“I’d love to,” you replied softly, lips tilted upwards in a sweet smile. Holding his left hand out, Joel helped you to your feet and let you off the patio.
A new song began, volume a little louder now, and you stepped closer to him. A warm buzz spread through your veins when Joel pulled you against his broad chest, one arm wrapping around your waist and the other bent to hold your hand over his heart. You could feel the thump of his heartbeat beneath the green flannel he wore as he swayed you slowly around the grassy yard, careful to not stray too close to the pool.
Nothing ever felt as right as being there in Joel’s arms, dancing in the yard like the world beyond the fence didn’t exist. Your feelings for this man were overwhelming, growing deeper each and every day – hell, each and every second was more like it – and that four-letter word bubbled in your throat. You swallowed it down, settling your head against Joel’s shoulder, eyes closed and focused on the moment.
Joel’s chin tilted downward, nudging against the side of your face, his lips near your ear, and his breath sent delightful chills down your spine when he began to sing softly.
“Fall into me and I’ll catch you, darlin’. We’ll dance in the street like nobody’s watching. It’s just you and me and the song on repeat in my head, playing over and over…”
My god, how could you not fall in love with this incredible man?
The intimacy of it all brought tears to your eyes as your fingers threaded through the hair at the back of his head. Stomach alight with the flutter of too many butterflies, the urge to speak from your heart became too much, you could hold back no longer.
“I love you, Joel.”
You loved him.
What did he ever do to deserve something like that?
Heart clenching deep in his chest, Joel guided you to the hammock, music still carrying softly through the air. With amazing finesse, he settled you both on the hanging fabric, bodies snuggled together until you nearly became one.
He ached to say the words back to you, but they kept getting stuck in his throat. Instead, he settled for showing you how he felt, just like he did with dancing and singing in your ear – he could have written that song for how relatable it was to the feelings you brought out in him. Dark eyes stared into yours as his hands moved over your body, pulling you impossibly closer.
I love you, his lips said as they pressed heatedly against yours.
I love you, his tongue said as it licked softly into your mouth to tangle delicously with yours.
I love you, his hands said as they touched you with utter reverence.
I love you, his body said as he pressed it tightly against yours, trying in vain to crawl beneath your skin.
Joel kissed you with singular focus until you were both breathless and overwrought with need.
“Take me to bed, Joel,” you whispered when he finally tore his lips from yours. “I need to feel every bit of you.”
Your angelic voice music to his ears, he scrambled from the hammock, scooping you up in his muscled arms to carry you inside and up to his bedroom. His mind occupied by one thing and one thing only – making love to you until you knew every part of him and he knew every part of you – the string lights and last bit of wine were left forgotten in the yard.
Loving the way you clung to him, Joel swept through the house and up the stairs with an urgency he’d not felt before.
His lips moved to brush down your neck, nipping at the tender skin as he went. Once in his room, he closed the door even though you were the only two there. Joel kissed each new patch of skin bared as he removed your clothes until you were completely naked. Easing you back onto his unmade bed, a low growl rumbled from deep in his chest when your fingers slid along his scalp and tugged on his hair. Fucking lord did he love how you touched him.
“Fuck, I need to taste you, pretty girl.”
He’d never seen anyone or anything more beautiful in his life as your naked body writhed on his bed, eager and yearning for his touch, and Joel knelt to worship at the altar of you.
Starting at your delicate feet, Joel’s fingertips traced every inch of you until he reached the apex of your thighs. Leaning forward, he let the scruff of his facial hair tickle along the flesh of your inner thighs, pressing open-mouth kisses along the soft skin as he went. Grinning as you trembled, he met your wide gaze as he leant forward, tongue exploring your folds.
The first taste of you set his soul on fire. Sweet like honey yet more addicting and thrice as satisfying, Joel licked at your clit, tongue occasionally dipping down into you, slurping greedily at the very essence of you.
He couldn’t have thought of a more delicious dessert.
His movements elicited sensuous moans that shot straight to his cock, his jeans quickly becoming too tight and uncomfortable. Seeking a little relief, his hips began grinding against the mattress as he brought you closer and closer to the edge, fingers soon assisting his tongue in driving you mad. Just when he thought he might blow his load in his jeans, again, you came, crying his name out, the syllables drawing out in a beautiful, lyrical drawl. Working you through it, Joel drank down every bit of your release like a thirsty man in the desert.
“Fuck, darlin’. You taste fuckin’ delicious. I could live here, between your legs, for the rest of my life, surviving on just you.” Joel stood as he spoke, gazing down at your blissed out form on his bed as he tore off his clothes, one large hand palming his cock before he practically dove into bed with you.
“You’re too good at that, Joel Miller,” you said, the words falling lazily from your lips as you recovered from the singularly intense orgasm. Swooping down, Joel kissed you passionately, offering you a taste of yourself lingering on his tongue.
Letting his body continue to do the communicating for him, Joel shifted his hips, grinding gently against you while his mouth devoured yours. Groaning as your nails scratched down his back, he reached a hand down to guide his cock toward its home in your pussy. Dark eyes opened wide, Joel watched your face as he entered you, delighting in the scrunch of your nose and the way your eyes squeezed shut before popping open again at the sensation of him splitting you open.
With long, slow, oh so deep, strokes, Joel made love to you, telegraphing the depth of his feelings in the only way he knew how, until you were writhing in pleasure beneath him. Afterwards, he cleaned the mess between your thighs and held you close until you fell asleep with your head resting on his chest. Only then, did he finally whisper the words he longed to say all night. “I love you, too.”
Joel stayed awake for a while, listening to your gentle snores and the soft sighs you made in your sleep. He loved that you let your guard down with him, that he was the man who got to hold you while you slept. In the darkness of night, Joel made himself a promise that he would not fuck this up before falling into a deep sleep of his own.
His dreams were particularly vivid, the sensation of your mouth around his cock so strong he’d swear it was real. He’d never experienced your mouth around him like that before, though, so it couldn’t be real. Joel let his dream-self enjoy every moment, your lips around his shaft and tongue teasing the throbbing vein along the underside of his cock a divinity he’d never known before. At one point you took him so deep that a loud, guttural moan escaped his lips, hands clenching in your hair.
Eyes popping open, the moan carried on, rumbling from deep within Joel’s chest as he glanced down to find you feasting on his hardened length. It wasn’t a dream after all.
“Fuuuccckkk,” his voice, still rough with sleep, drew out the word as he watched you go down on him. Your mouth a form of heaven he suffered too long without, the cheeky, mischievous look in your eye making the pleasure more intense. You clearly enjoyed the act nearly as much as he did.
It didn’t take long before your wanton rhythm and sinful mouth had him coming down your throat, your name a prayer recited over and over in that gravelly voice. “Jesus fucking Christ, darlin’. Where’d you learn to suck cock like that, hmm? Your mouth is like God damn heaven.”
Joel’s chest heaved as you gulped down every drop of his spend, tongue darting out to lick the last bit from the little slit on his cockhead before sliding over your lips. You visibly swallowed, savoring the taste of him; his eyes glued to your mouth the whole time. His hand came up, caressing your face with the love he couldn’t yet voice shining brightly in his eyes, and his thumb traced along your plump bottom lip.
“My little gummy worm,” he murmured, delirious from coming so hard. “Felt so good wrapped around my fat cock.”
Crawling up his body, you settled your weight atop him and pressed your lips to his, letting him taste a hint of himself on your tongue as licked into his mouth, returning the favor from the night before. The kiss was languid and sloppy, perfect for a lazy morning waking up together.
“You tasted good, all salty and musky,” you said once you broke away, voice raspy from having his dick halfway down your throat.
“You can wake me up like that any time you’d like, darlin’.”
The two of you cuddled for a while, neither of you too eager to start the day knowing you didn’t have anything pressing to do. Those unspoken words bubbled in Joel’s chest the whole time, begging to come to the surface, to be spoken aloud and given credence. Still, he hesitated without quite knowing why. Finally rolling out of bed around 10, you jumped into the shower while Joel threw on some clothes and ran out to grab some breakfast.
He just pulled back into his driveway, a bag with a few bagel breakfast sandwiches in one hand – he got an extra in case you wanted pork roll instead of bacon – a coffee and orange juice clutched in the other, when JB’s truck pulled up in front of his house.
Settled on the couch after your refreshing shower, legs tucked under you while scrolling through your phone, you heard Joel’s truck pull up. Waiting for him to come in with breakfast for you both, you were caught off guard by the deep voices rumbling in the front yard. You sat up, peeking through the blinds to find your dad out front, hands on his hips as he spoke to Joel.
Oh shit.
You couldn’t discern their facial expressions from that angle and moved to the front door, quietly easing the heavy wood open to peek out and eavesdrop. They had to be talking about you, right? There was no hiding or pretending you weren’t here, especially with your car parked in the driveway right next to Joel’s. After your dad’s comments last night, you wondered if he planned this ambush then.
“I knew she’d be here,” you heard your dad say, but you couldn’t read his body language clearly. His hands were on his hips still, but there was a smile on his face. “You sweet on my baby girl, Joel?”
You couldn’t hear Joel’s response, his gravelly voice pitched too low for your ears to catch across the distance, but you could see him smile hesitantly even as his broad shoulders hunched slightly. Whatever it was caused your dad to chuckle and punch Joel playfully.
“I knew it!” your dad exclaimed, the sudden loudness startling you. “I knew you two would hit it off, I just wasn’t sure how long it’d take.”
You caught Joel’s response this time, his surprised voice pitching upwards. “You’re not upset?”
Walking toward the house without invitation, your dad paused. “Why the hell would I be upset? You’re a good man, Joel, and I know you’ll treat her well. And she’ll be good for you, too, I have no doubt. Now, you got enough in that there bag for breakfast for three?”
Your shoulders sagged with relief as you eased the door open. “I thought I heard voices! Hi Dad,” you greeted. “What are you doing here?”
“Hey Spud. I could ask you the same thing, but I knew I’d find you here.” Pulling you in for a hug, he ushered you inside. “I got tired of waiting for you two to come clean and thought I’d put you both on the spot.”
Eyebrows shooting up, you glanced at Joel before meeting your dad’s gaze again. “How did you know?”
Giving you a shrug, he said, “You two weren’t exactly subtle and a father always knows.” Nudging your shoulder, JB turned to Joel. “You’ll find that out soon enough, my friend. I can’t wait for the trouble that Sarah will give you.”
The three of you sat at the small dining table, digging into the breakfast sandwiches, your dad insisting you tell him how long you and Joel had been seeing each other and how it all started. Relieved to finally have the truth out there, you told him the story and JB chuckled.
“That about tracks. That’s right around when I started to notice something different between the two of you. And it sure explains why you hardly gave Annica the time of day on your date.” JB gave Joel grief about that failed date for weeks knowing that there was something – or someone – else drawing the man’s attention. JB had the feeling back then that it was you, his baby girl, his grown-up Spud, who captured the single father’s attention.
“You sure you’re okay with this, Dad? I mean…” your words fell off, not really knowing what to say. You’d be heartbroken if your dad wasn’t okay with a relationship between you and Joel, especially now that you verbally admitted to being in love with him.
“Are you kidding? I’m happy as a pig in shit that the two people I care about most like each other.” Your dad was all smiles, beady eyes sparkling with mischief. “In fact, I was planning on setting the two of you up if you didn’t figure things out for yourselves first. Tommy was in on the plan, too, and was the one who suggested we give it a little time. Little shit never told me it became official, though.”
Sitting back in your seat, you giggled with relief. All that time spent fretting over what your dad might think, feeling guilty for dating his best friend and hiding it from him for so long. It was all for naught. You should have known he’d love the idea of you two together.
“So, when’s the wedding?” JB asked, a shit-eating grin spread across his lips as you and Joel froze, eyes darting to each other in wide-eyed panic. Your dad practically guffawed at his own humor while you two were practically having a panic attack. “I’m just kidding – there’s no rush. Just make sure you treat her right, Joel.”
Recovering from the initial panic – not that he didn’t want to marry you, eventually, just not quite this soon – Joel laughed a little nervously. “Of course, JB. I’ll always treat her right. I, uh… I love her.” His gaze shifted to you, heart showing firmly in those dark chocolate orbs. “I love you, darlin'.”
tbc
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#joel miller#joel miller x reader#joel x female reader#the last of us#tlou#dbf!joel#Fall Into Me#pedro pascal#eventual smut#mutual pining#idiots in love
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the case of the red umbrella
description: working at your local coffee shop in port townsend is usually uneventful… until you meet a pretty boy in the midst of a thunderstorm
word count: 1.6k
a/n: i love charles rowland with all my heart so yeah <3 it’s a pretty basic imagine because i didn’t really have any fleshed out ideas! so if you have rqs let me know :)
Today is a quiet day. The humming of the coffee machine accompanies the distant sound of rain as you clean the countertop with a rag. The rain hasn’t stopped since midday— and you’re starting to wonder how you’ll walk back home when you didn’t pack an umbrella. You close your eyes, and the sound of droplets against the pavement and the roof feels louder. You’re dreading the moment you’ll have to clock out.
You hum a song you heard that morning on the radio, ducking under the counter to check —once again— if Marina accidentally left an umbrella there that you could borrow. You wiggle your hand between cardboard boxes, scrunching your nose and praying for even a broken one.
“Huh. This place is definitely a lot less creepy than the butcher shop.”
You bump your head against the counter. You let out a groan, holding the banged up area with your rag-less hand. By the time you stand up, you’re looking back at a tall, lanky boy with curly hair and a lopsided smile.
He tilts his head at you with a bemused expression. “You should be careful with that,” he mentions, before turning to look around the warmly-lit shop.
You scoff a small laugh. “Yeah— sorry. You just scared me a little there.” The boy freezes in his place, snapping his head in your direction. His eyes grow wide. “I didn’t hear the bell when you came in.”
“The— The bell?” he repeats, no longer looking as smug as he did a moment before.
“My bad, honestly. I wasn’t expecting anyone to come in with this type of weather.” You shrug your shoulders, shaking your head as you reach for a cup. “Right, anyways— what can I get you?”
You uncap your sharpie. You wait a second, two, three, before looking back up at him. He’s staring at you with a dumbfounded look. His backpack actually starts to slip from his shoulder.
You tilt your head, and after a beat, he clears his throat. He looks up at the board behind you. “Um. Yeah. Of course.” He squints, and as he’s reading what he can order, you take a moment to actually look at him. He’s pretty, you realize now that he’s standing closer to the counter. He has a sharp jawline, pretty bow lips, and an earring in his left ear that suits him so.
“Actually, it’s been a while since I’ve had coffee,” he says, and his brown eyes meet your own. You startle, cheeks growing hot. You wonder whether he caught you checking him out. From the mirth dancing in his gaze and the cocky twitch of his lips, you’re certain he did. He chuckles. “Why don’t you surprise me?”
You arch a brow. “Are you sure about that? Marina’s big on her no refunds policy.”
“You seem like someone who has good taste.” He shrugs his shoulders loosely, and his awkward demeanor from the start is gone in the blink of an eye. He tilts his head, lips curving up. “I’ll trust you.”
You look up at him. “Okay, but don’t say I didn’t warn you,” you tease. “Can I get a name for the order?”
His lips part like he wants to say something else. Instead, he simply answers with, “Charles.”
“Charles,” you repeat with a barely-concealed smile. “I didn’t think anyone was being named Charles since the seventies.”
He snorts, a wide grin brightening up his face. “You have no idea.” His eyes flick down to your name tag. “But, then again, you’re one to talk…” he tilts his head. “…Agatha.”
This time, you’re the one who laughs. “That’s a nice try— except I’m not Agatha.”
“Really?” he leans over the counter. ”Because the name on your pin says otherwise.”
“It’s because it’s not my name tag.” You roll your eyes with a smile as you turn to the coffee machine and start preparing him his drink. “I lost mine ages ago, and I don’t actually feel like paying for another one out of pocket.”
“So, you’ve left poor, innocent Agatha without one.”
“Please, she had it coming,” you respond, and he laughs. You’re not about to explain to him that Agatha retired before you even started working here.
The coffee machine stops humming, and you reach for the cup before finally closing it with a lid.
“So if not Agatha,” Charles starts, “what should I call you?”
You slide his coffee cup across the counter. You tell him your name, and he repeats it with a smile. He’s about to bring his coffee up to his lips, before stopping.
“Oh— apologies,” he sets it down on the table, reaching around for his backpack. “How— How much do I owe you?”
“It’s on the house,” you say.
He raises a brow. “What for?”
“Keeping me company on a day like this.” You gesture outside, where the rain only seems to have gotten worse.
“Yeah— dreadful weather, huh?” he says, hopping onto the counter with little regard for the fact that you only just cleaned it. Surprisingly enough, you don’t find yourself caring all-that much.
“Tell me about it.” You exhale, casting a glance out the window. “If it gets any worse, I might just end up camping here.”
Charles hums in agreement, toying with his coffee cup, but not yet drinking it. “Have you been working here for long?”
“Since high school, yeah.” You lean your back against the counter, folding your arms over your chest. “What about you?”
He furrows his brow. “What about me?”
“Well, for one, I know all my regulars— and this is the first time I’m seeing you around. How long have you been in Port Townsend?
“Ah, not long.” He scratches the back of his neck. “A friend of mine has been renting a room next door.”
“She’s renting one of Jenny’s rooms?” you muse. “Huh. So you’re visiting her?”
“Yeah. You could say that.” You cock your head slightly, giving Charles a look. He raises his brows. “What?”
“Your coffee’s gonna get cold, Charles,” you tease.
He almost looks flustered at that. “Right! Coffee, yeah.” He brings the cup to his lips, and swallows most of it in one big gulp. His face twists into a poorly-stifled grimace. His voice is hoarse when he adds, “So good.”
He tries to smile at you, but you’re frowning. Charles decides he doesn’t like to see you frowning.
“You hate it,” you say, lightly kicking your leg. The one time a customer —a cute one, at that— asks you to choose for them, and you royally fuck it. “Fuck, I knew I should’ve gone with a black coffee or something.”
“What?” Charles says, voice still somewhat scratchy from the drink. He hops off the counter, now standing next to you. There’s a smile on his face that looks apologetic. “No, no! It’s brills, really— perfect.”
You shake your head, trying not to show how much it bothers you. You try to chuckle. “Come on, Charles. Your face is getting all scrunched up— like you just ate a mouthful of dirt.”
He winces, embarrassed. “Yeah, to be honest I’m not actually big on coffee.”
He’s sparing your feelings. You’re not sure yet whether you find it endearing from him or embarrassing for you. Maybe a little of both. You tilt your head up to meet his gaze, surprised to see that he’s already looking down at you. His shoulder is a breath away from yours— you could lean your head on it if you wanted to.
“And yet here you are. Inside a coffee shop, on a Tuesday afternoon, while the sky falls outside.”
“Accusing me of something?” Charles clicks his tongue, and the warm lighting of the shop catches and reflects on his earring. “There are other things to enjoy here.”
“Such as?”
“The company.” His eyes meet yours when he says that, and you find a strange warmth spreading inside your chest.
You can’t help the way your lips curve upward. “Does that line usually work for you?”
“I don’t know.” He leans his back against the counter, looking at you with a mischievous glint in his gaze. “Does it?”
You laugh at that, shaking your head. He’s grinning. “Only ‘cause you’re pretty.”
He grins wider at that. “You think I’m pretty?”
“Come on, Charles. Do you really think I give free coffees out to anyone?”
“Well, that’s good to know.”
“Yeah, how so?”
“Because maybe I’ll come by more often.”
“I thought you said you didn’t like coffee.”
Charles shrugs. “Yeah. But there’s a gorgeous barista that works there. Agatha, I think.”
You’re laughing now, louder than before. Your cheeks feel hot as it dies out. You’re still smiling when you catch Charles licking his bottom lip, glancing down at yours. Your heart stammers, but you find yourself leaning closer.
Your mouths are inches away from each other when thunder strikes, and you both flinch away.
“You should get home soon,” Charles says, rounding the counter. “I don’t think it’s gonna get much better.”
“Yeah— you’re probably right.” You hope he can’t see you blushing underneath the dim light. “See you soon then?”
“Yeah,” he says, and it’s something about his beaming smile that makes you believe him. “See you soon.”
The afternoon drags on after that. Rain pours outside, paired with the occasional lighting strike.
And as you’re closing, turning off the lights and placing chairs atop tables, you find that there’s something that wasn’t there before.
An old, red umbrella, leaning against the door.
a/n: reblogs and comments are always appreciated <3
#charles rowland x reader#dead boy detectives imagines#dead boy detective agency#charles rowland imagine#charles rowland x you#the sandman x reader#dead boy detectives x reader#dani writes dead boy detectives#—charlesrowland!
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Hey Love your stuff! The Vs being protective of Retro, preventing them remembering anything bad or near murder that they do, is actually cute considering what Retro's dark side.
So here is a thought I had after reading Valentino covering up his near murder that Retro saw. What if Retro, most likely in the tower as i can't picture them ever doing this in public, was to try and flirt with Vox and Val?
I don't expect anything more than Retro maybe trying on a risky outfit, maybe getting nervous, and getting caught of course.
I just wonder how they would react as Retro making that kinda move seems outta character for your wonderfully created Hidden Serious killer 'house wife' Sea Bunny.
Sorry if my suggestion made you uncomfortable feel free to ignore it.
Anon, you are amazing. Don’t worry about it at all! I actually have a really adorable idea because of this, and I hope you like it! (Slight spice warning? I guess. It’s just a picture of the outfit in question, nothing really happens)
Something New!
“Vel, babe,” I said, with a nervous smile. “I have a teensy tiny favor to ask of you.”
“Oh?” Velvette asked, over the phone. She motioned for her models to shut up. “And what would that be?”
“Just- please come to my room when you can,” I said quietly. I was already blushing, and I hadn’t even told her what this was about.
“Of course! I’ll be over before you know it,” she said with a grin. I never asked for favors, much less from her. She knew that whatever this was, it would be good. “Love ya sweetheart, see you soon!”
“Love you too,” I said, a small smile on my face.
She hung up and dropped everything. “Everyone! Leave! Now!” She said, pointing towards the door. “I’ve got an emergency to cover.” She made another call on her phone. “Yeah, hey, Vox? Shut off the cameras.”
“What- why?” He asked, sounding suspicious. He was watching me fidget nervously in my bedroom- he was in his office, watching from the cameras- as I awaited Velvettes arrival. “Is something wrong?”
“No, not at all! If my hunch is correct, this could be great,” Velvette said, sounding excited. “I just need you to turn off your stalker cameras for a bit- at least the ones near and around Retro. If you’re watching, they might bail.”
“Bail on what?” Vox asked, sitting up straighter. “Vel, what are you talking about?”
“Nothing,” she said in a sing song voice, already headed to my room. “Nothing you need to worry about, at least. This will be fun, trust me.”
“Fine.”
“Yes!”
“But you only get two hours,” Vox said sternly. “Then the cameras are on and I get an explanation, understand?”
“You got it, babes,” Velvette said with a grin. She hung up and knocked on my door. “Retro? I’m here, love. May I come in?”
“Hm?” I looked at the door, surprised. She’d gotten here quick. I opened the door and stepped aside, letting her in my room. “Uh, yeah, definitely.” I closed the door behind her. “Uh. Don’t you- I thought you had work?”
“Hm? Oh yes, it was a slow day,” she said, waving a dismissive hand. “Don’t worry about it. Now, what was that favor you needed?”
“Oh! Right,” I said, my face heating up already. I looked away and sat on my bed, fidgeting again. “I, uh… I was wondering….”
“You were wondering,” Velvette repeated, sitting down besides me. My reaction was practically confirmation of her guess, but she wanted to hear it from me. “What is it, love? You know I can’t help unless you tell me.”
“Can you- could you help me find a good outfit to wear?” I blurted. God, I was so tense and nervous. It was silly, really. This wouldn’t be my first time wearing something risky, but I was still anxious about it. I loved them, and I was afraid I’d screw it up. I was having second thoughts already. “Something for Vox and Valentino. Something they’d like.”
“Oh!” Velvette said. She put a hand to her mouth, her eyes wide with surprise. She thought it was something of this nature, but to have me actually say it? Me admitting it? Damn. The way I was acting made it adorable to her. “You want something… suggestive? Or just showy?”
“W-what?” I asked, looking at her. Now I was confused. “Wait, there’s a difference? What?”
“Oh sweetheart,” she said, taking my hand in hers. “I have so much to teach you.”
For what seemed like forever, Velvette showed me an outfit and I said no. She was showing me lingerie, bondage gear, and the like. She quickly realized I was not used to this sort of thing (and I didn’t want to do anything, I just wanted to tease the boys), and toned it down. Eventually, we settled on a top and some normal pants.
(Left if you don’t have tits, right if you do. Or you could wear something else, I don’t care. I just don’t know how to describe this lol)
So, I got changed and hesitantly walked out from behind my dressing screen to show Velvette the outfit.
“So, uh… what do you think?” I asked, doing a little twirl for her. “Do you think they’ll like it?”
“Oh. My. God.” She gasped and walked over, admiring how I looked, and her handiwork. “Babes, you have got to do this more often! You look stunning. Here, let me get a picture.”
“No! No,” I said immediately pulling away. I was blushing furiously. “Please don’t. Oh my god, I should’ve known this was a bad idea. God, I feel so stupid…”
Velvette frowned, looking disappointed. She felt a pang of guilt. She hadn’t meant to make me feel that way, she just wanted something to remember the occasion. She reached out to explain, but before she could, the door opened. Vox and Valentino walked in, looking serious.
“Alright, times up,” Vox said sternly. “I turned off the cameras, now I expect an-” he cut himself off when he saw me.
“Oh,” Valentino said with a grin. “This. I like this.”
“Fuck! Fuck, no, shit- you aren’t supposed to- oh my god,” I panicked, ducking behind my dressing screen. My face was as red as a tomato. I was so embarrassed. “Please leave!”
“Wait, what?” Vox asked, looking to Velvette. He was confused by my reaction. Was he not supposed to see me like this? Hadn’t I just spent the past two hours preparing for this? Why was I reacting this way? He wondered if he did something wrong. “Did I…?”
“No, it’s not you,” Velvette said quickly. She stood and walked over to the two, looking guilty. “They’re just… a bit shy. They aren’t used to this, you know? I kind of startled them, by accident, just before you came in.”
“Oh,” Vox said. He was still processing. And overheating slightly.
“Honey bunny,” Val said softly, approaching the dressing screen slowly. “It’s okay. We didn’t- we don’t-” he sighed. He had no idea what to say. “Sweetheart..”
“It was a silly idea,” I said quietly, on the other side of the screen. I was sitting on the floor, my knees tucked to my chest. “Sorry.”
“No, no, don’t be sorry,” he said. “May I…? Please?”
I didn’t respond but I didn’t stop him, either. I was conflicted. I wanted them to see, I was just afraid. I was afraid of a negative reaction. “I… I guess.”
He pushed the dressing screen aside and folded it up, then sat down next to me. “Come here, mi amor, it’s okay,” he said gently. He reached out to touch me, but didn’t, awaiting my permission. He was being so considerate, it was unlike him. I leaned towards him, allowing him to touch me, but I didn’t meet his gaze. “You look beautiful,” he said, wrapping his arm around my waist. He pulled me up against him.
“Thank you,” I said, with a small smile.
I looked over at Vox, who seemed on the verge of a system crash. His screen was flickering and he was clearly overheating just at the sight of me. Velvette was trying to help. She was not very successful. I laughed a little to myself and smiled wider- more genuine.
“He likes it too, you know,” Val said, nudging me playfully.
“I can tell,” I said, my expression softening. I was less tense now, more relaxed. “I’m glad.”
“So… will you be doing this again?” He asked with a grin.
“We’ll see,” I said with a small laugh. “I’m not sure Vox could handle it.”
“He’ll just have to get used to it! I won’t let him stop me from seeing you all dolled up and gorgeous like this,” Valentino said with a playful huff. He gently ran his fingers along my bare skin. “You look wonderful, mi cariño.”
“I agree!” Vox said, apparently having snapped out of his little spiral. His screen had a pink tinge to it- I imagined that was his way of blushing- but he had a smile on his face. He walked over and sat with us, Velvette following close behind. “I’d love to see you like this more, if you’re comfortable with it. You look stunning, either way, my dear.”
“Thank you,” I said, blushing again. He chuckled and pulled me into his lap, wrapping his arms around me.
“Not a problem, darling,” he said softly. He gave me a kiss on the top of my head and smiled wider. “I love you.”
“I love you too.”
“And I love them more than you!” Velvette declared.
“Hey!”
“I love them most!”
“HEY!”
#hazbin hotel#vox#hazbin hotel vox#hazbin vox#writing#vox x reader#my writing#x reader#reader insert#valentino x reader x vox#vox x reader x valentino#vox x valentino x reader#vox x valentino#hazbin valentino#hazbin hotel valentino#valentino x reader#hazbin hotel velvette#hazbin velvette#velvette x reader#the vees#the vees x reader#thanks anon!
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hi omg i love your works sm !! each one is so cute and i love your dialogue for the characters 🫶 i've read most of them but i'll be going back to reread and reblog them bcos u deserve the love 🤍
i wanted 2 ask if ur requests were open ? it's okay if they aren't ofc !! but i had this idea earlier about dentist / orthodontist iwaizumi or oikawa ! and i've been looking thru the hq writers that i've reblogged from n u came up ! the idea is pretty broad but i was thinking more of a build up from patient-dentist (?) to lovers, smth like that ! idk if ure up for it then do ur magic but otherwise i hope u have a great day and i'm looking forward to reading more from u 💞💞💞
Unusual affection
thank you so much for your love!! I never wrote much AU before so this was such a fun idea and I hope I did it justice<3
word count; 1353 – gn!reader, dentist Oikawa AU, patient-dentist to lovers, suggestive
You're not so fond of going to the dentist. Luckily, your teeth didn’t give you many problems growing up, but your parents were urging you to get a check-up appointment after you moved away to a new city. Better to establish a dentist before the issues come up, they would say.
So you did, you made an appointment with dentist Oikawa Tooru and made your way to his office a few weeks later. His waiting list wasn’t exactly short. Not that you had to wonder why for long because…
that is one gorgeous man!
“You need to floss more regularly,” he added as if it just came naturally for him, which it probably did. You lay on the seat as he looked over all the basic stuff, rinsing and picking at your teeth. Unfortunately, you couldn’t see yourself attracting him very much with your mouth wide open and lips scrubbed dry already, so you just accepted your fate.
“I’m not really a dancer but I’ll try,” Oikawa stopped what he was doing and the swivel chair he sat on slowly turned towards you. That’s like something Makki would say, he thought. And that’s not a compliment.
“How old are you, 10?” he asked but quickly cleared his throat when the secretary seemed to eye him from her desk. She always said he shouldn’t have an attitude with customers.
“Some would say I’m a 10 out of 10!” you responded, joyfully watching as his patience wore thin. Oh, how fun to find cracks in that perfect exterior.
He sighed, shook his head, and turned back to the monitor. You started looking at the ceiling, counting the dots and lines in the ugly pattern until you lost count and started over. Is that a headache creeping up on you?
Finally, Oikawa rolled back over. You blinked a couple of times to shake off the view of the ceiling and actually focus on him. “Open.” Wouldn’t mind hearing him command you like that in another setting, you thought, suddenly avoiding eye contact again but still doing as he said. Dentists are not supposed to be this attractive. “Your wisdom teeth on this side, do they hurt?” he asked, pointing to the cheek he was referring to.
You thought about it, humming in thought. “Yes, especially after eating. Lots of food gets stuck in there too.”
“We can set up another appointment to get them removed,” he informed you. “It should be mostly covered by insurance if I say it’s necessary.”
You nodded, licking your lips as they felt so dry from his gloved hands running over them. “Will…” he was about to stand up but stopped for a moment to listen to you. “…you be doing that?”
A small humorous sound left his lips, and it sounded so melodic you were in a trance. “That could be arranged.”
Two weeks later, you’re back at the reception of your dentist's office, asking for Oikawa. You agreed to do the procedure with a local sedative, as you didn’t have that many close friends in this city yet that could pick you up, so two assistants were currently making sure you wouldn’t feel anything around your mouth for the next hours. Unfortunately, this called for you to stay quiet, and you were honestly just excited to see Dr. Hottie again.
Your prayers were answered, and after they left you to soak in the numb feeling in your mouth for about ten minutes, Oikawa walked through the door. “Hey there, little dancer.” he greeted you.
“Hi!” you cooed, but it sounded odd when you couldn’t feel your lips. You frowned, trying to look down at your lips for a moment before giving up. Oikawa clicked his tongue from where he watched you, shaking his head before putting gloves on. Everything he did seemed so elegant, but you had a sense there was a dorky side to him.
“It might hurt a bit, but just tap me if you need me to adjust, okay?” he informed you, looking into your eyes for an answer.
You nodded, sucking in a quick breath. His eyes were pretty. Swirly, like chocolate ice cream. “Yes, I got it.” You bit your top lip, sheepishly continuing. “My safeword is toothbrush.”
Oikawa seemed to chuckle under his breath, he hesitated to humour you but still gave in. “Good to know. I was half expecting a stupid joke about tap dancing.” he hummed before picking up the first tool he needed and swiftly getting to it. It wasn’t very fortunate, to have him stare at your face as your cheeks flushed red, but it was worth witnessing the self-satisfied smirk on his face.
The procedure didn’t take too long. He struggled with the lower tooth, so an assistant came in to help him and the two conversed like you weren’t even there. When it was finally done, Oikawa pressed a button so you were adjusted into a seated position. You let your lips run frantically over your chapped lips, reaching for the small cup of water he provided you. And had you not been busy with the aftermath of the procedure, you would have noticed the way he watched you for a moment too long before getting up and throwing away his gloves.
Oikawa knew it was inappropriate. His breath shouldn’t have stuttered when he saw you in the waiting room for the check-up, he shouldn’t have sent you a small wave before calling your name to let you know he was ready for you, and he shouldn’t have put his hand on your back while leading you to his station. He just found you entertaining, that’s what he told himself, but he definitely looked off his game when you finally sat down for him to check the stitches from the procedure.
“Everything alright there, doc?” you asked, eyebrows furrowed. Oikawa waved his hand as if it was nothing, laughing under his breath.
“No worries, I was just-” he pursed his lips before pointing at you with the little tool in his hand. “Do you like pasta?”
Your jaw loosened in disbelief. “Pasta? I guess I do, is that bad for my teeth or something?” you asked a bit awkwardly.
“There’s this new Italian restaurant down the street. You should go there,” he said. “With me, I mean.”
Oikawa’s penthouse apartment was pretty nice, so you two basically spent most of your time there after a couple of dates led to stumbling through your front door with your lips locked together. He had complained about the small bed and creaking floor of your apartment, which led him to take you home to his place the morning after.
Now you were sitting on the marble countertop in the bathroom with Oikawa standing between your legs, and it was similar to something you had dreamed up before when imagining life with a boyfriend. The difference was, you weren’t kissing or anything like that. No, your mouth was wide open as your handsome boyfriend checked your teeth before bed after you brushed them. “This is a bit unusual, don’t you think?” you managed to say, making him pout as you accidentally left a small bite on his pointer finger.
“You’re a bit unusual, but here we are,” he mumbled, but still hummed in appreciation at what he observed. “I knew the electric toothbrush would help.”
Finally, he leaned an arm on each side of you on the counter so you could have a kiss, which you’d say was a much better reward for being good at the dentist than the ones you would get when you were younger. “You truly are a genius, Tooru.” you cooed sarcastically. He kissed you again and hummed, savouring the aftertaste of your toothpaste. The expensive kind.
“Maybe I’m such a good dentist that my kisses clean your teeth,” he said, and it shouldn’t work. It shouldn’t be charming. It was cheesy, made no sense and created some disturbing mental images. But you savoured it nonetheless, accepting every kiss he gave you and returning it with the same sweetness.
Luckily, this dental nerd is all yours.
masterlist
#ask-mp4#hq#haikyuu#haikyu#haikyu x reader#haikyuu x y/n#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu x you#haikyu x y/n#haikyu x you#oikawa tooru#oikawa x reader#haikyuu oikawa#hq oikawa#oikawa toru#oikawa
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Bathtub Confession (Eres Tú)
Sukuna x Reader
Part 3 to this
The one where you learn that certain confessions don't always have to be romantic, but others certainly do.
Word Count: 5.7k
Notes: Part 3 of my Sukuna x Reader celebrity!au. Takes place directly after part two. Song of inspiration: Eres Tú by Carla Morrison
Content: bandmember Sukuna x actor female Reader (referred to as such, but left descriptively vague), no y/n, manager Nanami, bodyguard Toji, actor Gojo, found family vibes, some angst, fluff, crack, humor, out of character Sukuna (he's so fluffy), suggestive, maybe lightly explicit, tho no sex actually occurs just yet (sorry), so please avoid accordingly.
-------------------------------------------------------------
“Should I change my name?”
A beat of silence. A drop of water.
“No.”
“Should I get a wig?”
Another beat of silence. A clink of glass on tile.
“No.”
“Should I flee the country?”
A minuscule half second of silence.
“Not if you’re going to quit paying me,” Toji grumbled.
His response made the frown on your face dip down further on your lips, and you rolled your head against the back of your porcelain tub to stare at the ceiling.
“Is that all you see me as?” you whined, “A paycheck?”
“You want me to lie?”
“That’s it, I’m going to drown myself.”
That gets a long, heavy sigh from your bodyguard and you can hear him readjust himself on the chaise lounge seated in the middle of your expansive bathroom before he carries on.
“First off,” he grunts, “no you’re not. That would require me to pull your sad self naked from the tub, and we both know we don’t want that. Second…you know you’re not just a paycheck.” Toji goes quiet for a moment. “I’d like to think that we’ve become a sort of family over the last couple years, you, me, and Nanami. Shoot, even Megs too when he’s around.”
His soft confession brings a smile to your face, and you turn your head to the right to look in his direction from behind a large mahogany privacy screen. It stands tall, wrapping just barely around the ends of your tub where your feet and head lay, keeping you securely tucked away from any prying eyes. It found its way there long ago, because this wasn’t the first time that Toji had played therapist from his dedicated chaise while you lounged in a hot bath and the two of you shared a bottle of wine.
“Thank you,” you whispered to him, “I’m grateful you’re my friend…and my family.”
“Don’t worry about it, I know you are. But don’t go on getting too upset or sentimental just because you’ve had a rough day. Things haven’t been that bad,” Toji said, and you groaned at the reminder.
After finally arriving home safely—no thanks to you—Toji immediately went into damage control mode and spent the afternoon fielding phone calls and text messages, though nothing too serious had been blown your way yet.
You had received a none-too-pleased email from the producer of the movie you and Satoru were co-starring in, accusing you of sabotaging the release by not waiting to reveal your relationship with Sukuna until after the movie premiered in a few short months (as if he couldn’t tell that what happened today wasn’t by choice). Luckily, Satoru swooped in with his sweet-talking words and buttered the producer right back into promising extra money for a job well done. Though Satoru’s idea of fixing things was convincing the producer that the only premise that sold better than a classic love story was the angst of a good ol’ fashioned love triangle, and he was more than happy to play the jilted lover dead set on winning you back. You wondered what it must be like to live in such delusions.
What really put the cherry on top of a bad day was the text you received from Sukuna shortly after arriving home. It wasn’t anything particularly worrisome, a straight to the point, “I’ll call you this evening, busy smoothing a couple things out, x,” but it had you in a fit nonetheless. After sending a quick affirmation back, you threw your phone across the couch in your living room and flung yourself onto the nearest surface to bemoan your miserable existence. Toji was not amused when that nearest surface happened to be his chest, and he only offered you five minutes of soaking his shirt with snot and tears before he drug you upstairs to your bedroom, turned on the hot water to your tub, and shoved you into the bathroom with a promise to return with wine if you quieted down for just a second.
So here you were, an hour later, soaking under a mountain of peppermint scented bubbles while you toed at the hot water handle at the end of the tub.
“You think if I begged hard enough Nanami would let me come stay with him for the rest of his vacation? I’m afraid I’m in need of a tropical escape,” you told Toji, already calculating in your head how quickly you could pack your bags and be on the next plane to Malaysia.
Toji chuckled, “No, I don’t think he would, considering he refused to tell us anything more about his trip other than what country he’d be in and when he’d be back. You showing up would take seven years off his life. Add three more if he opens up the door to you sobbing like you’ve been all day. Besides, running away to another country just because you’re afraid to talk to your boyfriend is a cowardly move.”
You ‘tsked’ at him for calling you out on poor behavior and slouched further down into the hot water in shame-filled defeat. Instead of wallowing in it further though, you popped your ankles up on the rim of the tub, tossed your arms back to hang behind your head, and clapped twice to get Toji’s attention.
“Another glass of wine, please,” you mocked in as snobby an accent as you could manage.
“What do you take me as? I’m not your damn butler,” he complained, but you could hear the quick successive cracking of his back as he stood up from the chaise and stretched.
“Just one more and that’ll be it, I promise.” You considered what else could entice him into doing your bidding. “I’ll let you be done for the evening and take the day off tomorrow if you also bring me a plate of cheese and crackers, please.”
Toji was silent before letting out a begrudging “fine” and shuffling out the door without another complaint.
You marveled in the silence, nothing but the occasional lap of water as you adjusted yourself in the tub to break it. After a few minutes, however, you realized the absence of conversation was the perfect environment for your thoughts to run unhindered, and that was not something you cared to partake in at the given time. Trying to concentrate on anything else though was futile, and perhaps trying to wade through your own head for a few minutes would leave you feeling better when you chose to pointedly ignore it once your butler…ahem, Toji, returned with your snacks.
Besides falling on national television—and underneath Gojo Satoru nonetheless—you had a particularly difficult time deducing from yourself what exactly about the accidental revelation of your relationship with Sukuna caused you so much embarrassment. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to be associated with him or that you always intended for the relationship to remain secret until it had reached its course; your desire was quite the opposite, actually. It was a feeling best left to baser animals and bedroom activities, but the idea of staking a claim, proving that he belonged to you in a way, was not unappealing and not something you could talk your way out of thinking, especially with the world the two of you lived in.
If you got down to it, the real problem lay in your unfortunate habit of caring what people thought. You didn’t want Sukuna to see you as childlike, only a few years younger than him in age but miles behind in maturity. You didn’t want him to view today’s incident as a misfortunate foreshadow into the “what if’s” of your relationship. Neither did you want the world looking at the two of you and questioning how exactly something like it came to be. Where Sukuna was all sharp angles and dark colors, suave nonchalance and carrying a presence that demanded to be seen, you felt painfully opposite. You wouldn’t self-deprecate and believe that you were unworthy of standing beside him, but just cognizant of how different you felt. More like something that could be just as appreciated, but more likely to be overlooked and favored over something brighter. A “mismatched pair” is what they would call you, something that struck you so vividly that the pressure in your chest increased ten-fold. You knew he would hear it, see it, be made aware of it, and while he may not agree right away, you wondered how long it would take for the sphere of influence to get to him too. The anticipatory grief (as your actual therapist called it, usually followed by anxiety) of waiting for someone you valued so much to realize that he had better options was enough to make you consider running away from the whole thing entirely.
And that’s how you came back to scheming your departure from the country. If you hurried, you could probably towel off, pack a bag, and slip out the back before Toji realized (you wondered if the big oaf had decided to take a nap instead of bringing you snacks for how long it’d been since you last heard him). Surely Nanami wouldn’t abandon you in your time of need if you were wailing at him over the phone in the airport of a foreign country.
But alas, you heard your bathroom door open, effectively cutting off any means of escape.
“It’s about time, Toji. What took you so long?” He neither spoke, nor took another step. “Eh, no matter. Bring me my snacks, please.”
Footsteps continued again and before you could chastise Toji further, a voice spoke up from right behind your privacy screen.
“Should I be concerned with the normalcy of your bodyguard attending to you while you’re naked in the bath?”
The shock of hearing Sukuna’s voice caused you to jolt, sending your legs into the water with an unmistakable splash and leaving you to scurry back into a sitting position from where you had slipped dangerously close to submerging your whole head underwater. The indecency of it all would kill you if this conversation that was about to happen didn’t.
“I assure you,” you started, hoping you didn’t sound as wrecked as you felt, “it is not nearly as salacious as you made it out to be.”
Sukuna hummed. “Really? Because it sounded as if you were expecting him, and when I ran into him downstairs he told me to tell you that he would be back up to deliver wine and cheese shortly. Sounds like a romantic evening to me if I’ve ever heard one.”
You were relieved to hear a hint of amusement in your boyfriend’s voice, but horrified at what he was saying.
“Please stop implying things that’ll make me gag.”
Sukuna chuckled, but was quiet for a minute until, “You have five seconds to tell me to stop before I move this privacy screen so we can talk face to face.”
You shot upwards, looking around hurriedly as you tried to scrape the remaining bubbles in the tub to strategic places in order to maintain your dignity, though you realized a moment later that it was probably unnecessary. With a second left, you brushed tendrils of your hair away from your face and wiped your thumb across the top of your lip to remove any remnants of a wine stain from your skin. In the next, Sukuna was pushing aside the privacy screen and looking down at you with a blank—but not unkind—expression. You eyed him warily as he walked up to the edge of the tub and dropped a cushion from the chaise Toji was sitting on earlier to the floor. He settled himself down onto it and then placed his elbow on the edge of the tub so he could lean in close to you.
“Hello,” you whispered to him, settling both your arms down next to his and then resting your head against them. A small smile crossed his face.
“Hello to you too.”
You were surprised at the lack of tension in his face, no clenched jaw or heavy brow to be seen, and as you trailed your eyes further down his torso you noticed its absence there too. His shoulders were relaxed, and his chin was cupped in the hand propped up on the tub so he could gaze at you with those unnervingly observant eyes of his. You wished he’d been wearing a t-shirt instead of the thin navy turtleneck he currently had on so you could focus your stare on the black tattoos decorating his body. Aside from being intricate, and distracting, they always gave you something to look at when meeting his eyes felt like too much.
The tenderness of Sukuna’s knuckles meeting your temple forced you to look back up at him, only to see that he was following the path his fingers were making over your skin. They grazed over your cheekbone, feathered down the bridge of your nose, and then were skimming over your mouth, his thumb catching ever so lightly on your bottom lip. His hand didn’t linger there, and it was quick to skate over your jaw before his thumb landed under your ear and the rest of his fingers tangled in your hair while his palm cupped your neck. With a slide of his other hand up your arm and down your back to press between your shoulder blades, Sukuna brought you close enough to him that he was able to reach the rest of the way over the tub and kiss you. His lips remained pressed against yours for a second or two before he broke away, hesitated, and then leaned in to do it once more, twice, and a third time.
You were the one that put space between the two of you, sitting back in the water and drawing your knees to your chest. You desperately needed to inhale without smelling the crispness of his aftershave or the spiced warmth of his cologne, both of which were guilty of making your head spin.
“You’re not mad at me?” you asked, breaking the silence before he had a chance to, before you lost your nerve. You watched as his head tilted slightly to one side, his expression a touch befuddled, but full of disbelief.
“Why would I be mad at you?” He questioned slowly, moving himself to his knees on the cushion so he could go back to resting his arms on the tub.
“I don’t see why you wouldn’t be,” you told him, your voice a bit sharp. “I inadvertently told anyone with access to the internet that we were dating, without even talking to you about it, and then proceeded to flee the scene like a coward instead of getting back out there to present myself as confident enough to own up to my mistakes. Not to mention the fall with Satoru right before. It’s embarrassing. The whole thing made us—me—look like a giant mess!”
Your voice cracked on the last word, and you bit down on the inside of your cheek until you tasted iron. Sukuna looked pained, and he reached a hand out to play with your fingers as they sat at the top of your knees.
“You’re not a mess,” he said, rubbing his thumb in small circles over the middle knuckle of one of your fingers, “and I’m not embarrassed either. I never intended to keep us a secret, and I’m not trying to implicate you when I say this, but I don’t think I ever implied doing so that evening.”
“Well, yeah,” you huffed, the twinkle in his ochre-brown eyes and the mischievous grin on his face as he hinted to the night the two of you cemented your relationship into the category of “official” making your face get warm, “we didn’t do a whole lot of talking after that point.”
You tried to jerk your hands out from under his to cover up your cheeks, but Sukuna was unrelenting in his hold, and you gave up before continuing on, “I know you never implied that you wanted to keep our relationship hidden, but that’s been the theme of whatever we’ve had going on these last ten months. We were sneaking around from the very beginning, we lied about it to Yuji and Choso, and then let’s not forget about the whole incident of being caught by Satoru,” you pointed out to him, feeling the slightest bit smug when he looked chagrined.
“I apologized for that,” he reminded you, his voice tone faintly defensive. You squeezed his hand in comfort.
“You did, and I’m not upset about it.”
You took a deep breath and cast your eyes everywhere except Sukuna, taking in the details of your bathroom as you tried to muster the courage to share your insecurities with him. He never let his attention on you deviate, and between that and the heat of the water you had been in for almost two hours, you were beginning to feel lightheaded, and everything finally came rushing out of your mouth.
“I feel like we’re mismatched! It feels like everytime someone looks at us, they’re going to wonder why, like we don’t fit well together. And I’m not saying I believe that, or that you would believe that, and I know this whole thing sounds ridiculous because it is ridiculous, but it’s hard to get outside of my own head about this when I already love you so mu—,”
The startled look on Sukuna’s face is what clued you in to the fact you had said something you had not intended to. You snapped your mouth shut with an audible click of your teeth and used your feet to push away from him and to the otherside of the tub, wrenching your hands out of his grasp.
If someone asked why you never liked to talk about your feelings, this was why. Why the words that came out were never as eloquent—or as sane—as the thoughts in your head was something you’d pay so much money to figure out. And Kento was about to have no choice in letting you hide out with him for the rest of his vacation because you were no longer asking, and if he was interested in keeping his job he would do so without complaint. Even so, you considered that forcibly releasing Kento from the grip of a career that was so wrought with overtime would be another mercy for the overworked sal—,
“You know what I think,” Sukuna murmured, bringing you out of your own head to focus with rapt attention on the blissfully contented expression he wore. His fingers curled around the tops of your arms as he reached out to slide you back to his side of the tub, and when you were close enough again, he pushed his nose into the plushness of your cheek to nuzzle there affectionately. You were transfixed by a small tan freckle on the edge of his eyebrow that you somehow hadn’t noticed before.
“I think this whole time you’ve been so focused on pleasing everyone around you—which isn’t necessarily unadmirable, I promise—and treading with extreme care to take into consideration my feelings about our relationship that you haven’t noticed what’s been going on…or I haven’t been doing a very satisfactory job of making it apparent.”
He said the last part more under his breath, but didn’t give you a chance to interject with an objection before he carried on, making intently sure your eyes were on his. “From the very beginning, even when all I had of you were fleeting touches and secret meetings in questionable places, I was always bound to fall in love with you.”
You didn’t know what to say, what to think, and trying to wrap your head around the fact that what you considered to be one of the worst days of your life was ending with unintentional confessions of love in your bathtub wasn’t helping. So you did what you could and traced a finger down one of the tattoos under his eyes, hoping he would keep talking.
“We aren’t a mismatched pair,” he insisted, his eyelids fluttering slightly at your gentle touch, “I think we compliment each other quite well, so please, don’t try to hide or run away.” He fixed you with a pointed look that told you Toji had warned him of your current status as a flight risk, and you ducked your head slightly and in a way that you hope conveyed repentance.
“Because you must know, I will always be chasing after you.”
You wasted no time in hurrying to crush your lips against his and throw your arms around his neck, because what else was there to do when words couldn’t suffice, other than to surrender to the melding of bodies?
Sukuna reciprocated in fervor, breaking apart from you only to stand up from his place on his knees, and reached down to cup his hands under your bottom, lifting you out of the tub and securing your thighs around his hips while his mouth found yours again.
He seemed to care not that you were dripping water on the floor and soaking the front of his clothes from where you were pressed tightly against him. He stumbled back a couple steps until the back of his knees made contact with the chaise, and the two of you fell back onto it. Sukuna adjusted you to straddle his lap, his hands clasping at your hips while your hands scrambled down his back to pull up his shirt. You ground your pelvis down against him as he dropped his head to mouth at your neck, and the rough groan that elicited from his throat had you deciding that your bed was too far away to justify taking time to separate, and that the convenience of the chaise was worth going to the trouble of having to buy Toji a new one. You had no more than let the thought flutter through your head when an obnoxiously loud knock resounded through the bathroom.
“You two haven’t drowned yet, have you?”
Speak of the devil and he shall appear.
Sukuna ripped his lips away from where he was sucking a mark into the space where your shoulder blended into your neck, and met your gaze with one that dared you to intervene.
“Don’t even think about it,” he growled, using the grip he still had on your waist to hold you in place while he rolled his hips up into yours, and you prayed that the moan you let out wasn’t as loud as it sounded. Even if it was, you hoped Toji would get the hint and make himself scarce.
“Look, I get it,” your bodyguard remarked, sounding both amused and vaguely uncomfortable, “but it’s kinda, maybe important.”
With both the mood dashed and your anxiety spiked again, you patted Sukuna on the shoulder in a bid to get him to let you slide off his lap. He rolled his eyes, exasperation—and lustful desperation—painted clearly on his face, but he helped you down without giving you any grief and grabbed a black fluffy robe from where it was draped over your privacy screen. He held it out so you could thread your arms through it, and then he proceeded to tie the belt securely around your waist.
“Come in, Toji,” you called, moving to sit on the chaise while Sukuna came to stand at your back.
Your bodyguard waited a moment before opening the door, peeking his head around first and then sauntering in with his normal arrogance to lean against your bathroom counter just a couple feet in front of you.
“Glad to see that nobody’s drowned. There’s only one of you I’d be willing to do mouth-to-mouth on,” Toji joked, clearly proud of what he had come up with. You felt Sukuna’s hands come to rest on the tops of your shoulders, his fingertips digging into the muscles lightly. They relaxed when you bought one of your hands up to twine your fingers with his.
“So, to what do we owe the interruption?” you asked. The amusement on Toji’s face vanished, and in its place came weariness.
“I just got off the phone with Nanami, and—,”
“You called him?!” You yelped, springing up from your seat, “I begged you not to!”
“Whoa, Whoa,” Toji cautioned, raising his hands up in a surrender, “easy with the accusations. He called me. He knew.” And before you could open your mouth to ask how, Toji’s expression darkened and his eyes flicked up over you to glare at Sukuna. “Uraume called him.”
You whirled around to look at Sukuna, who—thankfully—seemed just as surprised by the news as you did.
“I didn’t ask them to do that,” he assured you, then turned to Toji, “did Nanami say what they wanted?”
“Just to talk about the whole situation, more or less. Nanami said they only talked for about ten minutes, but they’re planning to discuss things more when he comes back in five or six days.” Your bodyguard sighed and crossed his legs as he leaned back further against your counter. “He was nearly ready to hop on the first plane home, but I managed to convince him to finish his vacation. Told him it’d damn near break your heart if he came back early.”
You plopped back down on the chaise, bone tired and completely ready for this whole day to be over.
“Thank you, Toji. I’m sorry for jumping down your throat like that.”
“Don’t sweat it, Princess,” he said, pulling a vaguely familiar set of keys out from his pocket and pushing himself off the counter to walk towards the door. “You two going to be okay if I head out? I have some errands to run and then I’ll probably crash at Megumi’s tonight instead of the staff quarters.”
You nodded at him, sending him off with a wave before shifting to look back at Sukuna.
“Stay with me?” you pleaded. He answered with a kiss to your hair, and then offered his arm so you could stand from the chaise. He followed after you into your bedroom, and the faint flutter of clothing made you glance back over your shoulder. Your heart began to race at the sight of his bare chest, tattoos displayed in full glory. You must have made some kind of noise because he looked up at you from where he was draping his shirt over the back of a lounging chair in the corner of your room.
“I hope you don’t mind,” he said sheepishly, “my clothes are wet.”
You shook your head, tugging your bottom lip between your teeth as you watched the muscles in his back flex as he bent down to push his jeans to the floor, leaving him in simple grey underwear. There must have been something written all over your face as he began to walk towards you, for he was reaching out to pull you into him as soon as he got close enough.
“I’m tired, Sukuna,” you warned as he pressed your cheek to his chest, though you wondered if you could muster up the energy to continue where the two of you had left off in the bathroom. Surely he would make it worth your while.
“I know,” he told you, voice light and good-natured, and he tightened his arms around you briefly before stepping back and nodding in the direction of your bed, “why don’t you go get comfortable. Toji left your snacks on your dresser. Want to finish them off before bed?”
With a grateful nod, you turned to leap onto your bed, sitting down in the middle and wiggling with excitement as Sukuna came to join you. He sat the tray of food and wine in between the two of you and crossed his legs underneath himself before picking up a piece of cheese and offering it to you. You smiled in thanks and began to nibble on it while he surveyed his options.
“Mhm,” you started, an errant thought popping into your head, “I’m assuming since Uraume knows that Yuji and Choso know now as well?” Sukuna raised his head slowly from where he had been studying the various snacks, and the hint of guilt on his face wasn’t confidence inspiring.
“They do,” he drew out, observing you carefully, “they were both watching the interview with me.”
You groaned as white-hot embarrassment flooded your body, and you fell back against your pillows, grabbing one to shove over your face to muffle the bitter laughter you couldn’t control. “What do they think?”
“It’s nothing you should be worrying about,” Sukuna said, suddenly sitting by your head and lifting the pillow off your face to set it above your head, “you know they adore you. Choso was his normal, level-headed self. He’s happy for us. Yuji was just as ecstatic once he got his laughter under control, if a bit disappointed that we hadn’t told him.” Your boyfriend paused, his face darkening suddenly, and you watched with interest as a muscle feathered in his jaw.
“What?” you asked, pushing yourself back into a sitting position and poking him in the arm to urge him to explain. He shook his head, clearly annoyed.
“You know what that little shit said immediately after? He thought that you and Gojo had been secretly dating and were waiting till after your movie was over to say anything.”
Obnoxious laughter erupted from you, and you hurried to slap your hands over your mouth to try to conceal it as Sukuna’s face fell.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you rasped out in between giggles, unable to stop it as you watched Sukuna sit back against your pillows with a huff and a crossing of his arms.
“The little idiot is just dense. And delusional. Anyone could see that you and the q-tip don’t have any real chemistry.” He sounded an awful lot like he was trying to convince himself of the truthfulness of his own statement. You wondered, affectionately, at which brother was a touch deluded. You were a fine actor, thank you very much. And you were about to open your mouth and say so when something ‘plinked’ off the window next to your bed.
Strange. Your bedroom was on the second floor.
Sukuna jerked his head up, all traces of humor forgotten, and the two of you listened for the noise again.
Plink.
“What the hell,” he muttered, pushing off the bed so he could go inspect the noise, “stay right there.”
You appreciated the concern in his voice as he began to lift the window pane open, and he had just begun to stick his head out to look around when something small smacked him right between the eyes, sending him butt-first to the floor.
“Sukuna!” you gasped, rushing over to kneel by his side and lift his hand from where he had it pressed to his forehead. You didn’t get a chance to fawn over him any further before he was up on his feet and striding to your bedroom door.
“Be right back,” he growled, throwing the door open and cursing all the way down the stairs.
You heard something land next to you on the floor, utterly perplexed when it turned out to be a rock from your flower beds. You got up and tiptoed over to the window, just barely lifting your head over the pane as to avoid becoming another victim of a flying projectile, then shot to your feet when you caught sight of a familiar white-haired costar outside beneath your window.
“Satoru!” You screeched, dumbfounded by his mere presence and the way he waved up at you, completely unbothered, “How in the world did you get through the gate?!”
“Hey! There you are!” He called, with a lazy grin on his face, “that’s not really important right now.”
“I would disagree!” You yelled back down to him, making a mental note to have Toji go over all the security points around your property after his day off. “What are you doing here?”
Satoru laughed sarcastically before the smile on his face suddenly disappeared, and he propped his hands up on his hips. “Where is my car?”
No. Way.
“You’ve got to be kidding me, Satoru.”
“Nope! Give me back my car. It’s one of a kind!”
You groaned, reaching up to massage the burgeoning headache you could feel at your temples. “Are you sure it’s not out there in the driveway? Toji left just a bit ago, so you shouldn’t be boxed in or—,” you cut off when the memory of your bodyguard twirling an unfamiliar set of his keys around his finger as he left your bathroom flashed across your memory.
Oh god, that absolute bastard.
Satoru must have caught the horrified look on your face, as well as how you suddenly stopped talking after mentioning Toji because his face blanched even paler than usual, and his voice was two octaves higher in distress when he hollered back up at you.
“Does that criminal have my car?!”
You deserved a vacation at this point.
“I’ll call him in the morning, Satoru, I promise. And I’ll make sure he washes it for you or whatever you want, just come back tomorrow.” You hoped placating him with the prospect of torturing Toji would convince him to leave, but no, he still stood rooted to his spot down below.
“As fun as that sounds,” he mocked back up at you, “I can’t.”
“What do you mean you can’t?”
He looked a bit like a toddler caught with his hand somewhere it shouldn’t be. “Suguru dropped me off and then left in a hurry. He said he had something to do.”
You couldn’t believe that the universe thought that pairing those two together in any capacity was worth the absolute chaos they unleashed on the poor, unsuspecting population.
The slamming of your front door caught your attention, and you figured your boyfriend was about to make himself known.
“Look,” you sighed, backing away from the window slightly, “you can borrow one of my cars and swap it tomorrow when Toji brings yours.” You ignored Satoru’s protests and started to close the window. “Just apologize to Sukuna for hitting him between the eyes with a rock and he’ll open the garage for you.”
You caught the confusion on Satoru’s face, and just barely heard his panicked remark as you shut the window.
“Oh, fu—.”
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Whew, that one took it out of me, not gonna lie. Angst and I are not friends.
#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen x reader#ryomen sukuna#ryomen sukuna x reader#ryomen sukuna x you#sukuna x reader#sukuna x you#gojo satoru#toji fushiguro
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What was lost...
Joel can't seem to shake you, even when he knows you're dead and gone. A canon Lavender one shot set in between chapters 8 and 9, a few months before Joel and Tommy arrive in Boston.
Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader from Lavender
Length: 2.3k
Warnings: Angst. This is pure angst, I'm sorry. Imagined canon-typical violence. Mention of sex. No use of Y/N. Minors DNI 18+ only.
A/N: I got this idea from an anonymous ask when I wrote about wanting to write Joel with a dead reader and they suggested writing Joel when he thought Doc was dead. SHE IS NOT REALLY DEAD, OK? Joel thinks she's dead. She's not dead. Doc is fine. She's in Boston calling QZs looking for Joel, working at the school and the clinic, and being codependent with Andrew. It's OK. I promise.
July 2008
I’ll always love you, Joel. Til the day I die.
Joel woke with a start.
It was still dark, the moon full and high, and for half a glorious second, he thought it was you asleep against him. That the two of you were camping with Sarah and you would sense him in your sleep and reach back to put a hand at his waist and tug him closer.
He asked you once if you knew you did that, that when he woke and sat up in the night that you would reach for him until you found him and pull him back to you where he belonged, always with a little satisfied sigh. As though him being close was all you needed in the world, even when you were unconscious.
You’d laughed when he asked, tucking your chin like you wanted to hide from it.
“God, I’m sorry!” You said as you caught your breath. “I had no idea I did that! I promise, I won’t hunt you down in my sleep if you pull away from me…”
Joel had laughed a little, too.
“Don’t apologize,” he’d said. “Like it when you keep me in line.”
“Good,” you smiled, teasing and sitting up a little straighter. “You’d better.”
But it wasn’t you, of course. It hadn’t been you for five years. Five years to the goddamn day.
Joel wished he’d lose track of the fucking date but he couldn’t seem to. Every time he seemed to get close, they’d have to do something like coordinate a raid on a FEDRA caravan and he’d be set back on track, his brain always keeping count.
He wanted to forget his birthday the most. If there was any mercy left in the world, he’d have never seen another one after 36 but here he was, closing in on 41 and still marking time.
He wished he could forget Sarah’s birthday, too. And yours.
But, strangely, July 18 was the second hardest day for him. It was the last day the three of you were together. The last time he’d heard your voice right beside him, the last time he’d held you, the last time he had nuzzled into your hair and your skin and breathed in the lavender scent of you.
The body next to him didn’t smell like lavender. She didn’t fit against his body like you did, either. She didn’t sound like you or taste like you or feel like you. But she was close and warm and wanted him and he’d given in. He almost always did. Because what they offered wasn’t sex, not really. It was a chance to forget, for a moment. If she looked like you, it was a chance to pretend, too.
This one didn’t look much like you, though. He’d closed his eyes during because it didn’t seem to matter that you’d been dead for years, it still felt wrong to be with anyone besides you. It didn’t make much difference. She didn’t feel like you. He’d pulled out and finished with his hand, thinking about how you felt that day five years ago in the water.
“Everything OK?” The woman beside him sounded groggy.
He couldn’t remember her name.
“Fine,” he said quietly. “Just takin’ over the watch. Go back to sleep.”
She just shrugged and settled on the ground again as Joel worked his way through the woods, finding Tommy walking the perimeter of where they’d stopped for the night.
“You got another two hours to sleep,” Tommy said, frowning in the moonlight.
“I’m awake,” Joel said. “May as well take over.”
Tommy gave him a look for a moment before he sighed.
“S’long as you’re OK,” he said, clapping Joel on the shoulder. “Should be good for a while, just did a sweep.”
Joel just gave him a nod and Tommy made his way back to camp as Joel settled into a notch in some roots, his back resting against the trunk of a tree.
“She’s not me, you know.”
Your voice was so close beside him it would have made him jump if it were any other sound. But it was you.
He was used to this by now, the way you haunted him on days like this.
He wasn’t sure why you’d hung on in ways Sarah hadn’t. Maybe because he knew what happened to her, knew where her body had gone cold.
He’d spent so much time trying to drown out that memory - to shove it away, suffocate it, anything to keep it from taking over - that he thought he might have pushed all of her aside with it. He didn’t hear her voice as often anymore, didn’t picture her there next to him either.
You were another story. His mind seemed to enjoy torturing him when it came to you. He’d pictured your death so many times now, the imagined memory of it finding him in his sleep on so many nights.
Tonight had been one of those nights. This time, you’d died at the hands of a man like him. You had your backpack on, the one Joel had told you to pack, and you were walking where he’d told you to go. He could see you so clearly, your hair in braids with ribbons on the ends and your cheeks with smears of dirt like you sometimes got when camping. You’d tried to beg for your pack because Joel had told you it was important and then you tried to beg for your life because he’d told you that was important, too.
It hadn’t worked.
You’d been in the man’s grip, his knife at your throat and your eyes found Joel’s and you said the same thing to him you always did before you died at the hands of whatever monster he’d left you to suffer:
I’ll always love you, Joel. Til the day I die.
“Don’t expect her to be you,” Joel said quietly, refusing to look at the ghost beside him. He didn’t need to. He knew what you’d look like, down to the jeans you were wearing and how many buttons were done up on your shirt. You always came to him in the form you’d been in the last time he’d seen you, when you waved to him as you passed through airport security on your way back to New York five years ago today.
“I wonder why you’re always let down then,” you sounded almost smug. It didn’t sound right on your voice. You were so rarely smug. He’d made you mean in death.
“Does it matter?” He asked.
“I guess not,” you said. “Just thought you’d have found something better to do by now. It’s been five years, Joel.”
He turned to look at you then. You were sitting close enough to him that, if you were real, he would feel the heat of you there.
But there was no warmth to be found in a ghost.
“Know how long it’s been,” he said gruffly.
“Well, you probably deserve to torture yourself a little,” you sighed, no longer looking at him and out at the forest instead. “It’s your fault I died the way I did, you know.”
That’s how he knew it was all in his head. You’d never say that to him.
Even if it was true.
“I know.”
He sat in silence for a few minutes, refusing to look at you, speak to you even though he sometimes wondered if falling into his delusions would be the best he could hope for in this life. Nothing else would measure up to you. He knew that. He would, for the rest of his life, regret not being beside you when the world ended. He would, for the rest of his life, compare every woman he ever met to you. He would, for the rest of his life, wish for something he could never have because he’d done nothing but fucking fail the only people in the world who mattered. Now, you were both out of reach.
“I miss you, you know,” you said eventually, quietly. “I missed you when I died, too.”
Joel didn’t say anything. He just clenched his jaw.
“I was alone,” you said. “I was scared. You know how I got panic attacks, imagine how bad it would have been then…”
“Stop.”
“How I would have looked for you…”
“Stop it.”
“How I would have been worried about you, even as they killed me I would have been worrying for you…”
“SHUT UP!”
He yelled it, finally looking at you again. But you weren’t what he expected. At least, not in how you were looking at him.
So often when he pictured you now, when you spoke to him like this - when he was sleep deprived but couldn’t rest and was in desperate need of some kind of solace - there was an almost vicious look on your face. He didn’t think he’d ever seen you look like that when you were alive, it was an expression entirely of his mind’s invention. You had never been cruel or even really aggressive in life but he couldn’t think of you without it. It hurt too much to see you kind.
But you looked earnest and sad now, so like the real you, like he was worthy of your pity for the first time in five years. It was like his heart beat for the first time since he’d held his daughter’s body.
“You never even looked for me, Joel,” you said softly. “I could have made it, you know.”
He shook his head.
“Don’t say that. Don’t put that thought in me, don’t…”
“I could have. You can’t know, not really. Why did you give up on me? Why didn’t you come find me? Save me?”
“How would you have lived?” He asked, meaning to sound angry but he couldn’t. “How would you have fucking made it through that? What was I supposed to find? What was I supposed to save?”
You just shrugged.
“If you really think I’m gone, why didn’t you join me? Join her?”
He looked straight ahead.
“I tried.”
“You flinched.”
He hung his head, clenched his jaw. Yes, he’d failed at that, too.
“Is this really how you’re going to spend your life, Joel?” You sounded like you. He could almost feel the gentle brush of your fingers on his neck. He still knew your touch so well, he still compared every woman he ever felt to that touch. “Hurting people and killing people and suffering yourself? Do you think this is what I would want for you?”
He looked to the side, as far from you as he could without leaving you.
“You could try something else,” you said after a moment.
He looked back to you again. You were still so beautiful. Even dead, you were beautiful.
“Try what?” He asked. “What other fuckin’ options do I have?”
“You could go to a QZ,” you shrugged. “Try to be a person again. Have a life.”
He scoffed.
“What’s the point?”
“What’s the point of any of it?” You asked. “You flinched, Joel. There must be a reason for it. Do you really think you’re going to find it out here, like this? Become yourself again, become the man I loved so much that I begged him to stay, even when he told me I wasn’t worth staying for. I know you can.”
Joel thought for a moment.
What if you were right? What if there was still some kind of meaning to this fucked up world he was trapped in? It didn’t seem possible, not really. But you were impossible, too. You’d been impossible before the world ended and yet you’d existed. You had existed and you had chosen him.
“You loved me once,” you said softly.
“I still love you,” he said. “Always will.”
“Then try. For me. OK?”
You were looking at him, so full of hope and love that he couldn’t say no. He could never say no, not to you.
He took a deep breath.
“OK.”
You smiled and you were beautiful, still so beautiful.
“Thank you,” you said before you took a deep breath and turned your face toward the full moon like you were basking in the sun. “I think it’s time for me to go. But I’ll see you soon.”
He huffed, cynical, looking in front of again.
“Sure you’ll be back when I’m too tired to think straight,” he said.
“I’m sure I will,” he heard the smile in your voice. “But who knows? Maybe you won’t need me anymore, not once you find yourself again.”
He looked at you, frowning.
“What…”
“Take care of yourself for me,” you leaned in so close, close enough that, if you were real, he would feel the brush of your lips on his and smell the lavender of your shampoo. “I’ll always love you, Joel. Til the day I die.”
You were gone before he had a chance to respond, nothing but air and silence, the echo of a ghost in your wake.
He sighed and leaned back against the tree, closing his eyes for a moment, trying to think. Maybe a QZ wasn’t a terrible idea. They’d heard some halfway decent things about Boston lately. If they started heading that way now, they could be there before the snow flies.
And Boston, at least, was a new city. A place he’d never been, where there were no ghosts to haunt him. It was a good a place as any to try to become a person again. It was a good a place as any to try to move past you.
Joel settled in to his watch, deciding to talk to Tommy in the morning. He’d be on board. He always was, when Joel made up his mind.
And who knows, maybe he would find something in Boston worth flinching for.
#fanfic#joel miller x female reader#joel miller x reader#joel miller x you#lavender#joel miller x oc#angst#lavenderversary
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Another day, another episode I’ll have to put myself through again because I was too stressed out and I know I missed a ton.
But in the meantime, here are my buddie centric thoughts, I’ll do another post on just Buck:
This is the first time that we’ve really had Buck in a life-threatening situation in front of the whole team that they could rush in to immediately. The crew wasn’t there during the tsunami and they couldn’t just run in when he got crushed by the truck because of the bomber, so to see the reaction from all of them about this horrible freak accident, it was something else.
We’ve seen Buck lose it twice when Eddie nearly died (buried alive and shot) and that desperation that he showed is mirrored in a way with Eddie. Screaming Buck’s name, the parallel of Eddie trying to drag him back onto the ladder, the same way Buck dragged Eddie under the rig when he was shot. Two sides of the same coin.
Eddie trying to take over compressions from Chim before Bobby has to actually rip him away and tell him he’s driving.
“We’ll do our best.”
“Do better.”
The way Eddie is clearly about to lose it when they wheel Buck away, held up by the rest of the crew.
And then…Chris. Chris, who insists on seeing Buck, “I have to talk to him.” Yet another parallel of Eddie having to talk to Chris about what happened to Buck the way Buck had to talk to Chris about what happened to Eddie. How they both lose it when they talk about losing the other.
And you can see, when they’re in the room and Chris is asking questions, how Eddie is at a distance, and shakes his head at once point when Chris can’t see, never directly looking at Buck the entire time he’s in the room.
The most insane thing about this is that it’s the only time we see Eddie in Buck’s hospital room when he’s unconscious. We see everyone else in there repeatedly, but not Eddie. Why? They’re best friends, surely he would want to be there for him.
But the thing is, I don’t think he can. Looking at the scene with Chris, how he refuses to get near Buck’s bed, how he won’t even look directly at him, Ryan Guzman says it all without saying a word.
He can’t be in there, he can’t look at Buck because looking at him like that, with the tubes and the ECMO, it makes it real that he could die. That Eddie could lose him.
Plus, Eddie is a paramedic, he knows what an induced coma and ECMO mean, even more so when you take into account that Chim literally tells him when Shannon is dying that, if they intubate her, she likely won’t wake up. He’s reliving that all over again, grappling with the idea that Buck will never wake up, that he’ll never speak to him again.
I truly think the only reason he went in that room was because Chris demanded it. And it’s not because he doesn’t care or doesn’t want to, it’s because he can’t stand to think that he might lose him.
It’s so fascinating how similar their reactions are, but are marked by their distinct personalities. Buck goes to pieces, screaming and desperate, while Eddie shuts in on himself, so that not even Chris can really get through to him. Eddie trying to pull Buck up while Buck tried to dig Eddie up. Eddie keeps his distance when Buck wakes up, where Buck was there the moment Ana called.
This feels important, to finally have a similar moment for Eddie when we’ve had it twice for Buck, the idea of losing one another, reckoning with that potential grief, a window into what would happen to one of the other died. Truly haunting acting choices from Ryan, it made me see more than ever that Buck is truly number two in Eddie’s life, only behind Christopher.
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you stood me up!
jb x reader
angst, fluff
julien was working on her next album, spending long hours at the studio and working. you were as supportive as you could’ve been. she was working a lot and getting a lot more pissy a lot more often. like, you guys had fought a lot in the last month after being together for a few years.
[flashback]
one night she came from home from the studio but you were still at work, she knew you were gonna be, she knew that you were gonna be later than usual. that morning you guys agreed that she was gonna cook dinner to make everyone’s life a little easier. except when she got home that day, she got in bed, and just went to sleep.
you came in from work exceptionally tired from a long boring meeting with the board of directors of your company. when you came in and saw there was no sign of anything being done in the kitchen you started to worry.
“julien? are you home?” you called as you took off your shoes by the door. you didn’t even see her usual converse by the door.
she said nothing. you huffed and walked to your bedroom where you saw julien laying on the bed asleep. you knew she was working hard and honestly felt bad for her. you gently woke her up.
“baby, are you alright?” you asked gently as your stroked her hair.
“fuck— i was supposed to cook. i’m sorry.” she said as she started to get up. you didn’t wanna stress her more than necessary so you offered to help her cook. she declined and ran to the kitchen. you shrugged it off before changing into some comfier clothes before joining her in the kitchen.
“it’s not like you to get in bed so early, are you feeling ok?” you asked as you made yourself some tea to soothe your lingering headache from work.
“i’m fine.” she said in a tone that made you do a double take. you could tell she wasn’t in the best mood.
“well, if you had told me you were too tired i would’ve picked up takeout or something.” you said gently, not wanting to stir the pot any further.
“fuck—“ she said softly, “i can’t keep you updated on my every fucking emotion yn.” she snapped. you were taken aback by her words.
“woah, i didn’t say—“ you started.
“you were gonna.” she cut you off. you eyed her as she cooked, she didn’t face you.
“no i wasn’t, julien.” you said back, she turned off the burner and went back into your shared bedroom, slamming the door. what the fuck just happened? you stood there in shock for a moment. you looked at the half cooked food and you decide to let her think about whatever was causing her bad mood and finish cooking yourself.
[end of flashback]
lately, you guys had a lot of little petty arguments. about walking the dogs, what kind of food they were eating, your work schedule. you name it yall had a petty argument about it. lucy had told you guys you needed a date night after hearing yall fight one too many times. you guys liked the idea and settled for a night the two of you weren’t working.
it was a monday night, you both knew it was a weird night to go out but you figured any restaurants would be less crowded.
you got home early, around 4:30 and you got ready for your date that was supposed to be at 6. she still hadn’t got home at 5 and you sent her a text.
yn: hey baby, you leaving work soon?
she didn’t respond till 5:45.
jb: yeah, something is running later than expected, take an uber there. i’ll be there soon.
you got to the restaurant at 6:10 due to the uber being later than you expected. you waited outside the restaurant for her. you waited and waited and waited.
you texted her at 6:15.
yn: are you almost here?
you called her at 6:20. she didn’t answer, you started to realize she wasn’t coming. you waited another 10 minutes and you called her again at 6:30. you got no response.
yn: i’m going home.
julien saw that final text and felt her stomach drop to her toes. she knew she fucked up, but there was a specific sound she was trying to get in the studio and nothing was working the way she wanted it to. she knew she fucked up.
at home you took off your makeup, took off your cute clothes and threw your new lingerie you bought for tonight in the closet somewhere. you put on a hoodie that was no doubt hers and a pair of shorts, you curled up on the couch with some ice cream and watched crappy tv.
around 6:50 you heard the door open behind you. you didn’t turn around to see who it was. you knew it was julien, you could tell by the way the floor creaked under her step.
“baby— i’m so sorry. i fucked up bad.” she said gently as she walked over to the couch.
you turned to face her, your makeup smudged and what mascara you couldn’t get off running down your cheeks.
“baby— talk to me.” she pleaded with you. you sighed and placed the ice cream on the coffee table.
“you stood me up, jb.” you said softly, sounding hurt. it wasn’t so much the fact that she stood you up, it was all the constant arguing that was happening lately combined with the getting stood up.
“i know baby— and i’m sorry.” she said, she sat down on the couch, she was trying to get on your level. you met her gaze.
“do you still love me?” you asked softly, your voice barely above a whisper. her face fell as she realized how badly she fucked up.
“of course i do.” she said gently, she moved a hand to cup your cheek. “i know i’ve been very tense lately and i took it out on you a lot. and i’m sorry. but i still love you so so so much.” she said as she stroked your cheek.
“you’ve been fighting with me all the time and then when we finally have time to be together you leave me stranded.” you said, feeling fed up. “do you do that to the people you love? would you do that to lucy and phoebe?” you accused. she was dumbfounded by your words.
“no- i-i wouldn’t. but they also understand my job. you don’t.” she said back to you, you were both tense now.
“what, cause i can’t afford custom gucci suits i don’t ‘get’ you? has it ever occurred to you that maybe you don’t get me?” you snapped. you started to walk away. she gently grabbed your wrist to stop you.
“what do you even mean by that?” she asked you.
“you’ve never worked a real job in your life, jb, c’mon. you don’t get me, just like i could never get you. guess we should just fuckin break up, right?” you snapped again, taking your wrist from her grasp. she opened her mouth like she was gonna say something but closed it.
“yn, baby, i fucked up but, it’s not worth ending what we have. and you do get me. better than anyone. i shouldn’t have said that.” she said gently.
“what exactly do we have?” you snapped, you were really tired of all of the fighting. “cause lately, all we have are arguments, julien.” you said before she could answer.
“no we don’t.” she said, trying to plead with you.
“oh really? what happened when i had to work late? you picked a fight about me asking how you were doing.. and when i fed the dogs a different food you basically called me dumb. hell, you know it’s bad when lucy is trying to tell us we need to go on a date night to relieve some tension.” you spoke quickly. she knew you were right.
she sighed. “your right.” she said softly sounding defeated. “but i love you so much baby, even if i haven’t shown it lately. i really am sorry i’ve been so terrible lately.” she spoke gently and stepped a little closer to you.
you shook your head. “i don’t like feeling like i need to walk around on eggshells julien.” it dawned on you why she was acting this way, “did you stop taking your meds?” you asked gently. her blood ran cold.
“n-no i uh— i can explain” she stuttered.
“oh my god— julien, you can’t just do that.” you sighed, you wanted to still be angry with her but you knew that her attitude had a reason, and a good one at that. “you can’t go off your meds, especially when you’re working so much.” you said gently.
“i’m just trying to write good music.” she admitted softly. you shook your head.
“julien, you and i both know that’s not how that works.” you said gently, she started to protest. “ah ah— tell me, have you written anything you like since you stopped taking it?” you asked.
“i- no.” she said sounding defeated.
“please go back to taking them. please.” you said gently.
“fine.” she said softly. “can i she a hug from my favorite girl?” she asked gently as she held her arms open.
you hugged her tightly. “i’m sorry i stood you up baby. let’s try again, yeah?” she asked gently as she stroked your back.
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i think luffy and law are the couple that just don’t care(they’re pirates)(also hear me out). like obviously at first, law is like ‘hey maybe not in front of our crews’ but then at some point, he just stops caring. not only are they connected by the hip, you can literally find one of them hoisted onto something or pressed against a flat surface with their tongues in each other’s mouths. luffy is absolutely insatiable and law kinda loves it. don’t go to the crow’s nest after dinner, luffy is in law’s lap practically devouring him. on warm nights, you might find law pressed against the railing of the Sunny or pressed against a door. on most days, luffy makes law sit up on the helm with him and they give each other kisses while watching the open sea. law watching luffy absolutely devour his meal and has to give luffy the absolute filthiest kiss ever. they’re on an island, luffy is dragging law to the nearest secluded corner or alleyway and shoving his tongue down law’s throat
#lawlu#lulaw#trafalgar law#monkey d. luffy#these are late night thots#im sorry that i won’t shut up about them#im sorry that all i have to offer is incoherent rambling#it’s only 730pm lmao#look this ship hit me in the face like a bag of pennies#and i’m obsessed#all i think about is lawlu#okay okay i’ll (maybe) shut up about them#for like two days then i’ll get another idea
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