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milesmolasses · 11 months

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they’re just people (42miles x african!reader)

— this was a request that I very stupidly deleted

— idek how I fricken did it bruh just read the fic 😭

— miles is nervy cause he’s meeting ur family.

— ⚠️: unedited, reader and miles are aged up to be 17-18 (because it makes sense. what african parent do you know who is letting their child date at 15??), miles having a cute moment with his mom <3

— “senator style” dressing is very common among men in nigeria. look it up and you’ll see what i’m talking about

“you need to calm down.”

you could feel the anxiety radiating off of your boyfriend from a mile away as he was pacing up and down your room, while throwing around a bean bag he found in your drawer. he had quietly snuck in through a window while you were getting ready just to rant to you about how nervous he was.

a birthday party.

your mother had told you to bring him to a birthday party being held for your cousins at a venue. she thought it would be a nice idea to see how he would interact with the rest of your family (and to see if he was any good with children.) in miles' head, he was hoping for a small get-together like you had when you met his mom and uncle.

as he came over to you and and wrapped his arms around your waist he said, “mami, tell me to calm down one more time and I might explode.”

“eww don’t do that I don’t wanna have to clean up your guts,” you joked as you turned to kiss his cheek.

turning around in his arms, you pushed him away from you slightly to examine what was in front of you. miles was freshly dressed in a matching blue “senator style” shirt and pants. you reached for his newly braided braids as you brought them forward to lay on his shoulders. “you look extremely handsome. they’re going to like you, okay?”

he huffed as he rolled his shoulder back, a little tense from all the worrying he’s been doing. “okay.”

when miles snuck out your window and went back to his own home, his mother caught a glimpse of what he was wearing.

“wow, te ves bien. where are you going?” his mother asked sounding impressed by how her son had cleaned up so nicely.

“i’m meeting the parents…” he mumbled looking at the floor. she could tell his nerves were getting the best of him by how his eyes were darting around the room and not maintaining eye contact.

“oh wow, that’s why you’re dressed like this huh?”

“yup”

Rio sighed as she went up to her son, placing both her hands to rest upon his shoulders.

“miles, you listen to me. they are just people. they can’t hurt you, okay? and judging by the person they raised, they’re good people,” she reassured him the best she could as she slid her hands down his arms, rubbing small circles to sooth him.

“what if they don’t like me?”

Rio sighed as her eyes darted to the side, thinking of what to say. she suddenly stepped away from miles as she put her index and thumb on her chin. she began to circle around miles, examining everything about him.

miles could only stand there confused as to why his mom was inspecting every inch of his body. “uh.. ma?” she put a finger to her lips to shush him, still looking and studying him while deep in thought. until she finally came to a stop right in front of him.

“mmk now, ask me what I see when i look at you.”

“ma w-what are you-”

“shhh play along! now ask me what I see, ¡vamos!”

miles threw his arms up and let them fall down in defeat. “fine, what d’ you see mami?”

Rio smiled as she grabbed her sons hands into her own.

“I see the boy I raised,” she explained. “I see him in all his glory on his way to navigate the world he’s been given.”

"I see him trying his best understand what it means to have feelings — what it means to love someone. I see someone who cares enough to immerse himself in a different culture than the one he has all for the sake of a special someone."

she looked down as she continued, “I see a talented, intelligent, kind, respectful little boy who’s not so little anymore. I see someone I couldn't be more proud of, and y’know what—?” she lifted her head so her eyes could meet his, “if they can’t see what I see, están locos.”

miles couldn’t help the soft smile he had on his face as he looked into her sincere eyes. pulling his mom into him, he hugged her and gave her a small kiss on her head.

“te quiero, mami”

“ay mami please I gotta go-!”

“in a minute!”

you stood outside smiling with your hands crossed over your chest watching the scene in front of you; miles mother trying to make him look more presentable by straightening out his shirt and tucking away any miss placed hairs on his head as best as she could.

when she finally kissed her son goodbye and started her way back to the bus stop, she quickly waved and smiled at you before speed-walking to catch the next bus. there were people from your family all outside the venue, chatting each other up and taking pictures, and suddenly this all felt very real to miles.

taking a deep breath, he crossed the street and made his way over to you.

“hi baby,” you swiftly linked your arm around his and gave him a small kiss on the cheek.

“damn, how many people you got in your family ma?” he took a quick look inside through the windows and saw a hefty amount of people, which didn’t make this any easier for him.

“don’t worry, most of these people aren’t actually family. they’re more like family friends who we call aunties, uncles, and cousins,” you explained.

“okay okay, yeah sure,” miles let out a breath that he didn’t even know he was holding in. he started to look around at all the people outside the venue: they all looked so extravagant in long fitted dresses, and in suits that matched or looked similar to what he was wearing. all of the adults mingled with each other, and children were beginning to group off and mess around.

miles felt a bit like a fraud; like he didn’t belong there. this was all new territory for him. of course he had a few african friends in middle school, but he never really had to face their culture head-on like he was now. when he tried listening to what people were saying, he heard a few english words incorporated into their sentences, but he hadn't a clue on what was being communicated.

he couldn't stop the doubts that began to cloud his mind as he looked around him. doubts that he wasn't the kind of guy your parents wanted you dating, that he couldn't live up to their expectations. doubts that told him in big bold letters, "you don't belong here."

miles' facial expressions and body language often gave away what he was thinking, so when you noticed him begin to shrink slightly, him rapidly tapping his thigh, and his lip twitching slightly, you saw right through him. grabbing his hand, you gave him a small squeeze of affection, and soon enough, you were leading him through the doors of the venue, dodging people and children as you made your way through.

you led him right to your table which your parents saved for you and your siblings, plus miles.

as he saw your parents seated at the table, the first person he noticed was your father's presence. he took notice of the stoic look on his face, and his hand on the table which was intertwined with your mother's.

"hey guysss," you greeted with a smile as you dragged miles over to the table. "this is milesss, the boy I was telling you about."

you could feel miles tense ever so slightly as his father held his gaze.

"good evening sir, my name is miles," he introduced himself with a small smile.

“thank god this boy even knows how to greet,” your father said while nodding in approval.

when he reached his hand out for miles to shake, miles thought to himself, “okay, making progress.”

taking his hand, he gave a firm handshake to your father to which he nodded in approval again. turning to your mother, he extended his hand and said hello and was met with a softer touch and welcoming smile.

“I like your hair,” she mentioned, her hand gesturing to the two braids rested on his shoulder.

miles smiled as he look down to his braids. “thank you, my mom actually does these for me.”

“tell her i said she did well,” she complimented.

“please, sit down i’m sure the food will soon be ready, and then we will see what we can take home with us,” your mother mumbled that last part directed to your father, but you still heard and laughed.

“so, miles, we have been told many good things about you. you want to study physics?” your father asked.

miles squeezed your hand under the table, eyebrows raised in shock. “you guys talk about me?” he felt his heart swell at the mental image of you even mentioning him to your parents — especially your mom.

“of course na, our daughter comes up to us and tells us she’s been seeing a boy — how can we not talk about you?” your mother asked rhetorically. you could see the small almost unnoticeable smirk etching onto miles face. he would never let you hear the end of this.

after almost half an hour of talking, laughing, (mainly between you, miles, and your mother), and getting to know one another, miles started to feel much more relaxed. words started flowing out of him much easier than before, and he even managed to make your dad crack a smile with one of his silly jokes. miles nerves and doubts slowly but surely began to dissipate as the night went on; relief washed over his entire body.

it wasn't until your mother covered him in a layer of fear 4x as heavy as the one he just washed off.

“ah! see your cousin!” you mother told you. you looked in the direction she was looking and saw a toddler running around and giggling.

“why don’t the both of you go and say hi!”

she knew exactly what she was doing.

— bro idk what’s wrong but I really don’t like this (¬_¬)

— but I tried

— idek why but i think the other one was SOOO much better

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pedroshotwifey · 25 days

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To the Flame chapter 16

Series masterlist

Pairing: Dark!Javier Peña x afab!reader

Chapter w/c: 3k

Chapter warnings: mentions of physical abuse, talk of suicide, manipulation, mental abuse, description of injury, controlling behavior, comfort, crying, javi being a dick, javi being "nice", reader being ✨delulu✨, idek how to tag this shit anymore, i think i might be gaslighting myself 💀

Chapter Summary: You get a glimpse of the man you used to know while you try to sort out your feelings in the hospital. You're faced with a tough decision---did you make the right one?

A/N: Don't know what to say about this one. Yes, we all want to scream at reader, yes, we all want to scream at Javi. Scream at me if you'd like and I'll happily scream back 😭 Love you babes!

******

You’re not dead, but you really wish you were. Your body aches more heavily than it ever has. Every breath you take is a massive effort and every twitch of your fingers sends a twinge through your entire body like a shock of electricity. You don’t know what’s easier—breathing deeply or taking in shallow breaths. Deeper means that your chest has to rise and fall painfully with the movement, but shallower makes you feel like you're not getting an efficient amount of air. You don’t want to decide, so you just lay on the kitchen floor and let your body do it for you.

You don’t think Javi’s here with you, but you honestly could care less if he is or not. All you have to do is turn your head and look around, but you don’t think that’s possible for you right now. You can feel the way your throat has swollen and would pull tight if you tried. You just want to lay with your pain for a while and let it consume you so you don’t have to think. Though your head pounds painfully, it’s the clearest it’s been for weeks. You know you’ll have to get up at some point, but that point is not now.

You can feel every organ individually, the way they struggle to work with every second that passes. Your lungs heave and sputter as you try to suck breath into them, and you’re suddenly curious to how they’re working at all. There’s no way for you to tell how long you were out or how much water you consumed, but you can only assume it was close to your limit. You thought you were going to die, you really did.

You have no idea how long you lay there, staring up at the ceiling, before you hear the click of the door opening, then several sets of footsteps making their way inside. Their voices are muffled by the staticy noise in your head, and you frankly don’t care enough to try to figure out what’s going on.

Javi’s blurry figure comes first, leaning over you as more people crowd in.

“Sweetheart?”

His dampened voice sounds panicked. You couldn’t give less of a fuck. You know that you’re probably going to be fine at this point, but you almost wish that you weren’t just to spite him. Suddenly, the light comes on, and your head starts to pound even harder. You close your eyes.

***** When you open them again, you’re in a bed. Not yours, though, you can tell immediately. There’s daylight in the unfamiliar room coming from the window on the other side. So you know you’ve been out for a while.

It takes a moment for you to remember what happened—why you’re probably here. And it’s with that realization that the pain returns. It’s more dull this time, immediately making you thankful for whatever meds they have you on. Just the underlying tightness throughout your body is enough for that.

You blink and look around a bit, trying to scan your surroundings without moving too much. But when you spot the chair in the corner closest to you—who’s sitting in it—your adrenaline spikes. Javi sits up out of the chair as soon as he sees your eyes open and on him. He moves to the side of your bed and your body jerks away from him on instinct.

“Get away from me,” you bite, though your voice is so strained it’s nearly incomprehensible.

You can see hurt flash in his eyes for a split second, but it’s quickly replaced by anger. You don’t have time to dwell on that short moment of vulnerability before he has his hands on you, trying to hold you steady as you thrash and try to yell for help. He knows you won’t be able to muster up enough noise to be heard.

“Fuckin’ stop and listen to me,” he spits, and you do, letting your body go limp before it gets any worse. You lay there and look him in the eye as silent tears sting your cheeks.

“You’re going to tell them you tried to kill yourself,” he says calmly. You don’t realize you started shaking your head until he grabs your chin and stills you. “You’re going to say you couldn’t handle the stress of the move and you tried to drown yourself in the sink when I got home and found you.”

You say nothing, because you know there’s no point. Why waste your breath and hurt your throat even more?

“You tied a scarf around your neck, attached it to a weight, and threw it into the sink.”

Oh, God. It makes you want to throw up, how elaborate his lie is. That would explain the bruising on your neck. He thought of everything, covered every track. You know you must be looking at him with pure disgust, but you don’t dare change your expression. You want him to see you, what he’s done to you, how he’s made you feel.

There’s suddenly a knock at the door, and Javi’s expression changes to something almost tender. The hand tightly gripping your face moves to cup your cheek, the other to pet your hair. You feel panic and frustration crawling under your skin, consuming your body until you think you might scream. This is your chance to get away from him, but you know you won’t.

All you have to do is tell the doctor you want to speak alone, tell them what’s happening, and you’ll never have to go back. But what if he didn’t believe you and you only make it worse for yourself? Or worse than that, what if he does, and you’re taken away from Javi. Exactly what you want, but also the last thing you can ever imagine happening. He’s still there, you can’t leave him. He’s still there.

So, even as it crushes your soul and makes your heart jump wildly in your chest, you say nothing as Javi calls for the doctor to come in, and a man in a white coat steps inside with a clipboard. He smiles at you, his eyes full of so much pity that it makes you swallow.

“Glad to see you up, honey. We were real worried for a second there.”

You say nothing, just watch the doctor as Javi continues to stroke your hair, then places a kiss on your head and backs away for the man to check on you. He comes to your bedside, opposite of your husband, and places his hand on your forehead.

“Still no fever,” he mumbles to himself, jotting something down on his clipboard. He brings a hand to your neck next, lightly pressing on the skin there with three fingers. He grimaces slightly. “Throat’s still very bruised and swollen. How bad does it hurt when I touch it here?”

He moves his hand up and places his fingers on a spot right under your jaw and to the left, putting a small amount of pressure there. You try not to flinch. It’s not a lot of weight at all, but it hurts like hell. You can only guess that’s where most of the bruising ended up.

“Hurts,” you rasp. The doctor puts his lips into a thin line and brings his hand back away. He writes something down and then sets the clipboard on the nightstand.

“How long have I been here?” you question, voice barely a whisper.

“You’ve been in and out for about forty-eight hours now,” the doctor tells you, glancing at his watch. “I’m not surprised you don’t remember it, you weren’t very cognizant.”

You nod, resisting the urge to look at Javi. Instead, you let your head lay back on the pillow and inspect the water-stained ceiling tile above your bed.

“When will she be cleared to come home?” Javi asks from where he’s sat in the chair.

The man sighs contemplatively. “If all her vitals stay about the same as they are now for the next few hours, hopefully tonight. We would like to have somebody come talk to her to see where she’s at mentally first, since you’ve said that you work and she stays home. We don’t need her trying something like this again while she’s alone.”

“I can take time off,” comes Javi’s quick reply, making something twist in your stomach. If you weren’t so mentally exhausted, you might be surprised about that. He had told you before that it was hard for him to just take days off. Though you suppose it would make sense for him to be able to request time for a family emergency.

“I think that would be best, but we’re still going to have someone in to talk. We need to assess her cognitive functions as much as we need to make sure she’s not planning anything drastic.”

Even though you’re not looking at him, you know Javi’s jaw is clenched. You know he’s smart enough to hold his tongue to not give himself away, even though he wants to protest more. He doesn’t trust what you might say while you’re alone, and frankly, you don’t either.

“Can he stay in the room with me?” you croak.

There’s a beat of silence as you look back to the doctor. He looks at you, then to Javi, then back to you. “Are you sure you don’t want to talk alone? The social worker we have on staff is very—”

“I’m sure,” you cut him off. “I want him here.”

There’s a sickening sense of betrayal coming from yourself as you decide your fate. You don’t know why you’re doing this, but you do. It hurts your head to try to decode what you’re thinking half the time these days.

The man watches you for a few seconds, obviously trying to gauge how much of a mistake it would be to let you make this decision. “If that’s what makes you comfortable, we can do that.”

There’s a wave of relief as Javi leans forward slightly to cover your hand with his.

“I’m here, sweetheart,” he comforts. You visibly relax, letting your body slumping down into the mattress. You let yourself zone out for a bit while Javi and the doctor talk for a minute more, just savoring the warmth of Javi’s hand touching you so gently, so caring. You know you have his approval right now, and it feels so good to bask in it.

You close your eyes and pretend to be asleep when the doctor leaves, trying to have Javi like this for as long as you can. You’re transported back to one of the first dates you went on with him, leaning up to him in his truck, his free hand over yours as it is now. The smiles you exchanged, the kisses, the laughs. It hurts so fucking bad. To think you’ll never have that again.

Tears trickle from your shut eyes, a quiet sob leaving your lips even as you try to contain it.

“Oh, sweetheart,” Javi consoles, genuine sympathy in his voice. It makes you want to cry more. You open your eyes and Javi gets up from the chair, coming to the bed as you begin to sob. You don’t know how to explain to him the grief you’re feeling over him when he’s right there, but you don’t have to. You sit up the best you can and he cups your chin again, watching you tenderly with furrowed brows.

“I know, honey, I know,” he coos before tucking your head to his chest. “I’ve got you. Get it all out.”

And you do, you wrap your arms around him and cry into his chest until you can feel his shirt soaking your cheek. You shake and heave and clench the fabric until your tears go thin and start to burn your skin.

He’s patient with you, holding you the entire time, whispering reassurances and rubbing your back, holding your head to him. It feels like your Javi. Yours. But it only makes you miss him more because you don’t know if it’s true. Don’t know if he’s snapped out of this awful trance that’s consumed him, or if he’s only here momentarily when you need him most. Either way, you let his care overwhelm you, let yourself drown in the affection.

****

It’s only when you open your swollen eyes a few hours later that you realize you’d cried yourself to sleep in his lap. You’re laying down now, Javi in the same spot he was the first time you woke up. There’s a woman in the room talking to him, but you’re too groggy to think about what they’re saying. More nonsense about your mental state, you’re sure.

And just like that, the love that had consumed you a few hours ago starts to fade. Your mental state. The carefully constructed lies you’re about to tell this woman. She turns to you when she sees you try to sit up, rushing to your side with a gentle smile.

“Careful, don’t want you straining anything,” she says, placing her hands on your arms to help you. You nod at her, still trying to wake back up. Your eyes hurt from crying and your head is throbbing again. You really don’t want to talk right now, but you know you have to if you want to get out of here.

“You know why I’m here?” the woman asks gently. Her name tag reads Chloe. She looks a bit older than you and has the most beautiful green eyes you’ve ever seen. You decide you like her.

You nod, then realize it’s probably better to be verbal. “Yes,” you tell her.

She nods understandingly, rubbing your upper arm in a comforting motion. “I’ve been told you’d like your husband to stay in the room while we talk?”

You confirm again, glancing at Javi, who seems to still be in whatever state he was earlier.

“Alright, I’m just going to ask you a few questions, and then we’ll get you out of here. Sound good?”

You nod, swallowing the thickness in your throat. “You mind if I sit?” Chloe asks, gesturing to the side of your bed. You shake your head no and she makes herself comfortable, clipboard in her lap. She doesn’t even look at Javi, which relaxes you a bit. Her sole focus is you.

“I know it’s not going to be easy, but I promise to be patient. You can take all the time you need. Are you ready?”

“I’m ready,” you reply before you change your mind about doing this with Javi.

“Okay. Can you tell me how you tried to take your life last Friday? In as much detail as you’re comfortable with.”

You take a deep breath, force yourself to not look at your husband, and pray you don’t mess this up.

“I tried to drown myself,” you lie quietly. “I tied a scarf around my neck and attached it to a weight. Then I filled the sink with water—.” You have to pause, emotion hitting you hard all of a sudden. You blink and swallow the lump in your throat. “I filled the sink with water and threw the weight in.”

Chloe nods somberly, watching you with the same pitying look the doctor had earlier. “It’s okay to cry, honey. It’s a hard thing to talk about. You’re very brave for doing so.”

You listen to her, bowing your head and letting your tears overflow. They’re slower than the ones you’d cried with Javi. More quiet. They feel more like defeat than grief. Chloe writes something down and looks back at you.

“And why did you feel like that was the best way to achieve what you were trying to do?”

You bite your lip, contemplating for a second. “Because I knew it would work over everything else. I thought it would.”

She jots something down.

“There are no firearms in your house?”

“Only mine, and it stays on me all day,” Javi provides before you can say anything. Chloe whips her head around to him.

“Did I ask for your input?”

“No,” you say, before whatever just happened could escalate. The last thing you need right now is Javi getting angry. “Just his.”

She turns back to you, gentleness returning to her face. She again scribbles something down.

“Two more,” she tells you. “We’re almost done. You’re doing really well.”

You nod at her, giving her a small smile.

“Do you wish you had succeeded? Why or why not?”

You answer quickly, maybe a little too quickly. You hate the way you still feel like you’re lying when you tell her no. “I was just overwhelmed that night. I was lucky that Javi came home when he did.”

She nods, writes something down, and asks you the last one.

“You’re not going to try to take your life again?”

“I’m not. I don’t want to die.” It almost hurts to have to say it. You don’t even know if that’s true. You put on a brave face though, needing her to believe it even if you don’t.

She writes the last thing down and smiles at you. “Okay, I’m going to go talk to some staff and get you ready to go home. It was very nice to meet you. I hope things go well in your future.” She holds her hand out for you to shake, and you do.

“Thank you, it was nice to meet you, too,” you tell her honestly.

You wait to hear the click of the door before you look at Javi. He doesn’t look angry exactly, but you can tell he didn’t like Chloe at all. But he still nods approvingly at you, taking your hand again.

“You did good, sweetheart,” he says.

***** A couple of nurses come in about an hour later to take you out to Javi’s truck. They watch as he helps you in, waves his thanks, and gets in the driver’s side. You cuddle up next to him like you used to, and a calm feeling starts to ebb its way into you. He holds you tight the entire way back to the apartment, and after cooking you dinner, holds you tight as you fall asleep. This. This is why you stay.

*****

What are we thinkin'? 👀

Series taglist: @corazondebeskar @yorksgirl @nerdieforpedro @axshadows @melaninmommy

@survivingandenduring @kewwrites @oldenoughtoknowbettersstuff @missladym1981 @sofiparallel

@koshkaj-blog @sheepdogchick3 @movievillainess721 @jessie8605 @casa-boiardi

@justlulu @iamsherlocked-1998 @hjzghi-blog @glitterymanboy @letstalkaboutshtufff

@untamedheart81 @1nsommia @joelmillersblog

#pedro pascal #fan fiction #ao3 #pedro pascal smut #smut #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfiction #javier pena x reader #javier pena narcos #javier pena fanfiction #javier pena x you #dark javier pena #dark pedro pascal #dark fic #ttf #to the flame

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moonchildstyles · 1 year

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I’ve been thinking about this and it’s been driving me insane :(!!!!!

H realizing he doesn’t have anymore condoms and angel is all worked up and ready for him her hands on his chest drawing little things as he’s hovering over her looking through the bedside table </3 the other day he used the last one but he thought they still had a backup one :( only to realize they’ve been using the backup!!! and he has to let her down gently :(((( hand’s cradling her right cheek “angel…” she’s nuzzling her head further into his hand finally feeling his touch :( she hums softly he kisses her head her eyes close shut he nuzzles his nose into hers kissing her closed eyelids “I don’t think we can do this tonight, lovie” her eyes shoot open landing on his :( hands softly feel his cheek “it’s okay :( are you okay?” Fingers wrapping around pieces of his curls that are framing his face :((((( he’s looking at her red lips that he was just biting and kissing into :( her fingertips trace his features taking a breath before she speaks “did I do anything wrong?” wanting to know exactly what she did so she can apologize properly and ughhhhh his heart is just </333333 he shifts his body quickly lowering himself feeling her body on him “no no, baby angel” kissing all over her cheeks “we just don’t have anymore…condoms” her features change face relaxing “oh” smiling and he’s amused “what? Find it funny?” The first chuckle leaves her lips hiding her face in his neck whispering “I-I thought you got two boxes last time” kissing his neck softly h laughs loudly “look at me when you sex shame me” she can’t keep it in her anymore a laugh finally erupts! Harry feels her head shaking against his neck and when they both calm down he feels her lips go back on his neck placing gentle kisses “what are you doing, little angel” she whines “nothing!! I’m just kissing you” and he just can’t say no to her ever! And he isn’t giving her exactly what they both want so the least he can do is lay with, kiss her and let her down gently :(((((🧸

BESTIE WAIT STOP:(((((( like this being before shes n birth control and comfortable going bare w him so it really is like a no go if they don't have condoms:( and like the picture of him leaning over her and her tracing his chest while hes trying to dig around and find the extra he thought they had:(((( and like :( ofc she thinks its hr fault like she did something that made him not want to keep going with her:( but then just ending up giggling and cuddling when they’re laughing about how quickly they go through their boxes like shfushfushf I just :( idek bestie this is just so scute fr :(((((( I love it so much:(

#anon #ask #🧸 anon #aster inspo #concept

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yakumtsaki · 1 year

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I’d like to start this update with this shocking image of SHAJAR TICKLING JOJO. Since when do you two remotely interact?!?

-Oh lighten up, will ya? -My beloved daughter is right, look at those snapdragon animations, everything’s literally coming up roses around here!

YA RIGHT, ‘things are going great’, what bs are you gonna come up with next??

-Things ARE going great! Look at me suddenly being a good father!

-And look at me becoming a professional party guest! And I’ve been super loyal to Don too, huhu!🌸

Ok well excuse me if I don’t bust out the confetti yet, historically we’ve had some difficulties maintaining a winning streak around here..

Sugar, there you are! Now what disaster do you currently have going on, spit it out.

-No disasters, just enjoying my day off!

WHAT IS HAPPENING

-I’ve just read this great book about the importance of skin-to-skin contact for newborns!

-And I rolled the want to potty-train Felina!

-And I just love changing diapers all of a sudden!

OK SERIOUSLY WTF. Are we gonna have our first calm update.. EVER??

Oh man here we go, here we go, what are you two arguing about!

-Nothing, we’re just talking about how nice it is that those spicy updates are a thing of the past! -It’s so much better to treat each other with love and respect!💗

Are you people trying to drive me crazy??

-I got promoted again! I can’t wait to share the good news with my family and then spend quality time with my children!

OH MY GOD ENOUGH

The kittens grew up and Shinok is the automatic heir per my tradition of picking the chonkiest cat! The puppies also grew up..

..and I think it’s clear who the dog heir is LOL. Veronica where the hell did your giant ears come from??

-I don’t know but they’re a lewk!

They most certainly are! The non-heir pets are of course going off to have much better lives with Wulf and Angel❤️

Speaking of ❤️, it is with a heavy ❤️ that after trying to turn Jojo into a werewolf for the better part of a century, I’M NOW CURING HIM PER HIS WISH. Jojo truly, I have no words.

-Well then you’re gonna love the want I’m about to roll tomorrow!

GO TO HELL

Things continue to go UNNERVINGLY well. Liz topped her career and rolled the want to teach Felina to talk-

-followed by the want to teach her to walk! (Look at their identical noses, awwwww🧡)

Then Sophito rolled the want to teach her a nursery rhyme, at which point something incredibly shocking has become clear. Sit down for this: we are dealing with our first pair of good parents in the main house.

DUDE. THEY’RE EVEN HAVING CONVOS ABOUT PARETING I CAN’T. REMEMBER WHEN YOU USED TO BANG ON THE UNI POOL TABLE??

-Oh haha, we sure were wild back then! Now dear, I read about this great new educational toy-

-Oh I know the one, it said it helps with cognitive development! -Yes! -We need to get two, Bartholomew is about to become a toddler!

Oh right he is!

That’s how calm shit is around here, that I actually REMEMBERED a birthday. Alright Barth, time to grow up! Please don’t get the Frances eyebrows, please, please, please-

-YES THANK GOD. Now let’s check the ole personality panel..

..OH NO HE HAS SHAJAR’S PERSONALITY. DON’T EVEN THINK OF ROLLING POPULARITY, YOU HEAR ME, YOU LITTLE BRAT?? Happy birthday etc.

Speaking of Shajar, Cyneswith remains a better grandma than her despite not being these kids’ grandma.

-I wanna teach her how to talk!🌸

You what now?

-Ok baby now say ‘chair, huhu💗’! -Chaiw, huhu💗! -YAYYYY🌸

Alright I’m starting to develop a theory here since Cyn is so ridic partial to Felina but doesn’t seem to give a crap about Bartholomew, that maybe Cyn wanted a daughter?? Idek dude, NOTHING MAKES SENSE ANYMORE.

Look at this shit.

LOOK.

LOOK. Like these are legit some never-before-seen images, where did this all functionality come from??? Also man Barth is ROTUND, his cheeks! Liz and Soph really made some cute bbs🧡

It’s time for Felina’s birthday, which I ALSO REMEMBERED. Jojo does the honors since this is probably the last birthday where he’ll be with us💔

OMG SHE’S A LIL SOPHITO CLONE

-I sure am! Now if you’ll excuse me, grandma Cyn said she has bought some new clothes for me!

OH GOOD LORD CYN

#long post #gen 4 #ts2

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neyxmessi · 1 year

Note

Neymar's acting way too brave rn I hope he's aware barca is not trying to get him back like Messi 😭 the only club interested in him is chelsea from what I saw so maybe he should stop provoking psg fans if he's gonna stay until the end of his contract. I dont even blame them anymore he's giving them every reason to hate him. Messi needs to teach him a thing or two about strategically disrespecting the club

Fair point also. At this point idek. Now they’re saying Neymar is definitely leaving PSG. They’re also saying now there’s no chance that Leo goes back to Barca 😭😭

I feel like the situation is difficult bc Neymar seems like he’d want to stay?? Unless it’s just another one of those “I don’t appreciate how you guys are treating me like shit and under appreciating me, so moving forward things are going to be different.”

So yeah. They both definitely are handling this situation differently but I understand both sides of doing so from a personal level.

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villa-kulla · 2 years

Text

@ the laloward “I love you” anon, i’m so sorry, I had your ask in my drafts, but it’s not letting me post it anymore!! Anyways here is a screenshot of the ask to reply to instead:

first off, THANK YOU SO MUCH! Also I feel like this ask is very well-timed, because I think the new SYS bonus scene maybe answers one and a half of those questions!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/41782554

I think a post-SYS “I love you” is definitely on the table...I never planned on including it in SYS because it just wasn’t the Vibe. a) too much too soon, and b) unfortunately the whole “I love you” exchange can be so big that it ends up diminishing things, and it swallows up all the little moments you’ve tried to build. Everything becomes more about ‘saying it’ than ‘feeling it’. Why have Howard say "I love you" when he can hand Lalo one of his own shirts that he stole, thinking he'd never see him again, and tell him "it matches your shoes"???? cry emoji

THAT BEING SAID, I don't think it's unrealistic for them post-SYS at all. And while I’m not sure when/why/where/how yet, I think it could absolutely happen, although knowing them, probably in a very unconventional way lol.

As for whether Lalo would try to stay away from Howard or not (SPOILERS FOR THE FICLET ABOVE -

- I think had his mission to kill Gus gone according to plan, I do think he would have stayed away for Howard��s safety. I think he does have this streak of nobility, albeit in a decided way. So when he thinks this...

He’d leave Wardo alone, leave him exactly like this. Unblemished, and perfect. Whole. Lalo wouldn’t even hint at bringing Howard with him. Hell, even if Howard offered, Lalo would turn him down. It would be Lalo’s final gift to him. He might never fully belong to Lalo, might never give himself over to Lalo completely, but he’d still given Lalo a lot, more than most: understanding, affection, and above almost all, a good time. Don’t let anyone say Lalo Salamanca didn’t know how to show his appreciation.

...it IS sincere, but he’s probably patting himself on the back for this decision too lol. Like ‘look at me making an upstanding choice, this is novel but kinda fun’. But then again also it DOES come from a genuine place, just one he doesn’t recognize?? Idek what I’m saying anymore lol the lines between his real feelings and studied ones are so finely drawn for Lalo in this universe, but all that to say YES, I do believe he would have gone away, leaving Howard behind, compartmentalizing everything very well, but missing Howard much more than he’d have thought. He can ignore it but it’s a constant itch in his side, and he tells himself he did a good thing, and gives himself kudos for it, the first thing to a sense of ‘ethics’ he’s experienced in a while. BUT. Clearly he can drop those ethics when he wants lmao, because as soon as it becomes clear how much he means to Howard, and how much Howard wants to come with him, he’s basically like ‘your car or mine’ lmao. He does give him one more out to not join him (whatta guy), but on the inside he’s definitely like ‘JOIN ME JOIN ME JOIN M...YESSSSSS’.

Anyways, I feel like this above fic captures this idea much better than this reply haha, but I’m glad those were two aspects you were thinking of, they’re definitely important ones!! Thank you again:)))))

#anon

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leestershay · 1 year

Text

i love you

i hate you. not really, but there is no hope for us anymore. i know i said that before...but now i mean it. lol. this is drunk me talking so you know it’s coming from the heart. you hurt me. i opened up to you and you took it and ran with it. idk if your feelings were genuine. but mine are. they are intense just like me. its been a month since we’ve talked and i can confidently say that i’ll cut you off. there’s no doubt that you’re a great girl...that’s why i love you. but...you have your boyfriend and i never knew how comfortable you were with your boyfriend until i heard what he did...and you still stayed. call it ignorance, call it what you want, but that’s not how a man should treat the love of his life. i hope you realize that or at least find some peace in it because you deserve it even though it rips me apart every day that you don’t put yourself first. this month of not talking has made me realize that i’m a fucking mess whenever i see you or think about you. all because i have deep, strong, intense feelings for you. believe me, don’t believe me, i don’t care. you are your own woman with your own life and decisions. you said you weren’t willing to let go of what you have for me...and that hurt. because realistically, you don’t have much with him. sure “culture” and “native language” but i would’ve learnt both and i might not’ve been good at it but i would’ve learned and tried to have learned. all i’m saying is... i hope he makes you happy. not in your mom’s way of “oh he loves us so much” but in the way of “my soul is yours, my heart is yours. everything that i am and everything that i have is yours” and quite honestly, it should be the vice versa. that’s real love. we don’t own anything in this world. we live and we die. our feelings don’t matter to the universe but they matter to us. the least we can do is try to make our spouse, our soulmate, our partner for life believe that they’re our universe in all its glory..........i say all of this now because you won’t see me for a week. a full week. and i won’t see you. it’ll be tough.. at least for me lol but my brain says that seeing you less and less will help. my heart on the other hand craves you at every moment of the day. but i can’t listen to my heart when it comes to you now. because it’ll only hurt me more knowing that you are not being cherished in all your glory. so i’ll cut you off and this will be your only connection from me. idek if you still have my tumblr memorized or if you have made an account but i give you this gift and it’s for life. i gave you my heart. this version of my heart...until i learn to rebuild. because this life is not worth living if we are not thinking with our heart. take care. p.s. good luck on the LSAT! study hard & you’ll accomplish everything you dream of. (i know it’s in june, but this is the last you’ll hear from me so i’d might as well make it worth it)

#A.R.

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thenextgenofchaos · 2 years

Text

THE FORMER FIANCÉES OF KENRIC DIZZNEE (Ep.1 - Part One)

(O/N: Hey lol. This is not a roleplay scene or anything interesting, it's just a- idek. I was watching SIX and I made this, that's what this is- and now there's a ton of stuff lol. So here have this. All characters belong to me except from Emma Sencen, who belongs to "Foster".)

Lorellia: He doesn’t love you! He acts like he wants you dead!

[Scarlet Spectre floats above a sofa cushion, fiddling with her hair as she watches the drama play out. Belladonna Nightshade stirs the tea she’s made for herself, Lorellia Faetal and Evira Cullenvine. Evira and Lorellia are arguing. Lorellia is worked up and screaming at Evira, whilst Evira smugly looks at Lorellia, staying calm.]

Evira: Well then, doll, why’d he propose to me?

Lorellia: Did he really propose to you?

Evira: Of course he did.

Lorellia: Where’s your ring?

Evira: Right here.

[Evira holds up her hand, tracing a finger over her diamond ring.]

Evira, smiling smugly: Isn’t it gorgeous?

Scarlet: Just diamond?

Evira: What do you mean by that?

Scarlet: It’s boring. I once heard he was going to propose to Emma Sencen and he personally made a ring for her. Evira: That’s just rumors. He doesn’t have the time for that.

Belladonna: I made everyone tea. Scarlet: I hate you. Belladonna: It’s not my fault you’re dead. I didn’t force you to have an affair with your best friend’s boyfriend. Evira: She did that-?

Lorellia: Was he hot?

[Belladonna hands Lorellia and Evira a cup of tea, and drinks her own.]

Evira: This is poisoned, isn’t it, darl?

Belladonna: No.

Evira: Hm.

[Evira sips the tea.]

Lorellia: Are you going to answer or not Scarlet?

Scarlet: Yeah, he was hot.

Lorellia: Ooooh, describe him.

Evira: Please don’t.

Belladonna: Did you even gain anything from that?

Scarlet: Uh- a boyfriend?

Lorellia: And you died right after?

Scarlet: Basically… it’s tragic…

Belladonna: He literally had a girlfriend. And she was your best friend, apparently.

Scarlet: Don’t “he literally had a girlfriend” me! You wanna remember why we’re all here?

Lorellia: Why are we here again?

Belladonna: Because we used to be engaged-

Evira: Ahem. Belladonna: Because the majority of us used to be engaged to be Kenric Dizznee.

Lorellia: Uh yeah, so?

Scarlet: Lori, do you remember your wedding day?

Lorellia, tearing up: Yes. That stupid Emma Sencen ruined it.

Belladonna: Why did she ruin it?

Lorellia: Because she was in love with Kenric?

Evira: Actually they’re both in love with each other. They were also dating at the time.

Belladonna: Don’t you mean they were both in love with each other?

Evira: Right. I forgot she doesn’t love him anymore.

Belladonna: Are you implying he still loves her?

Evira: Of course not.

Lorellia: Oh good.

Evira: Because he loves me.

Lorellia: How unfortunate.

Scarlet: It is quite sad.

[Lorellia and Scarlet sigh in harmony as Lorellia plops down onto the couch next to Scarlet.]

Lorellia: He was so handsome…

Scarlet: And sweet…

Lorellia: Too bad he’s wasting his affections on a girl who hates him.

Violet Chrysanthe: Hello-

Belladonna: What is she doing here?

Lorellia: Isn’t that his other ex-girlfriend?

Violet: We never dated-

Evira: But you kissed, right?

Violet: Er- not quite…

Belladonna: Why is she here?!

Scarlet: Maybe they were secretly engaged.

Evira: They haven’t even kissed.

Scarlet: Have you and Kenric willingly kissed?

Evira: …no-

Scarlet: Point proven.

Belladonna: What are we even meant to be doing again?

Scarlet: No idea.

Lorellia: We should play a game.

Belladonna: Absolutely not.

Scarlet: We should put that Violet girl to some use.

Lorellia: We should try to guess Kenric’s type.

Belladonna: That’s a ridiculous idea.

[Scarlet and Lorellia ignore Belladonna. Evira drinks her tea, and Violet is trying to open the exit to escape.]

Scarlet: Good idea! And we can use Violet and Evira to base our answers off.

Evira: Yeah, we’re not doing that.

[Five minutes later…]

[Evira has surrendered out of boredom and is sitting on a chair, and Violet is helplessly tied to a chair. A picture of Emma is taped to a chair next to her.]

Lorellia: Hmmmm….

Belladonna: If you’re going to do this, there’s no way to actually verify any of this.

Lorellia: Oh- we should get Kenric then!

Scarlet: Yeah!

Evira: I mean- this is our show right? So we’re in control.

Scarlet: Can we just-

Lorellia: BRING OUT KENRICCCC!

[A random person drags Kenric, tied to a chair, and knocked out into the room then runs out and locks the doors.]

Evira: What the hell? Is he okay-

Belladonna: He’ll be fine. Lorellia: He’s so handsome…

Evira: Touch him and I kill you.

Lorellia: You’re so boring!

Scarlet: Did your mother never teach you to share-

[The room goes silent.]

Evira: It’s a good thing for you that you’re already dead.

Scarlet: I forgot!

#tngoc #the former fiancées of kenric dizznee #kenric dizznee #evira cullenvine #scarlet spectre #lorellia faetal #violet chrysanthe #belladonna nightshade #emma sencen #idk why i made this #episode 1 part 1?

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pennylanewrites · 3 years

Text

Saiko Metori relationship headcanons<3

(gn!afab!reader)

I believe in Saiko Metori supremacy and I also had a dream where I was dating him so here you go <3

~~~~~~~~♡~~~~~~~~~~♡~~~~~~~~~~♡~~~~~~~~

→ we all know what he was like when he first transferred to P.K.

→ let’s pretend he didn’t transfer for Kokomi

→ you were seated behind him and you were pretty much the only person that talked to him normally

→ would never admit it but felt grateful to you for being so nice to him

→ before you knew it the both of you were hanging out at the school’s rooftop, eating his very fancy sushi

→ he’s actually really sweet and caring, you just have to help him let his guard down

→ he likes you so much, like he’s down astronomically bad but he would not admit it

→ you ask Aiura to find your soulmate and she says it’s metori and that’s when it hits you

→ everything made so much sense, the arm around your shoulders when passing a group of guys, the little kisses on your cheek as he greeted you

→ you tell him to meet up at the rooftop when school’s over

→ he shows up worried, thinking he did something wrong, though he played it cool

→ you basically admit your feelings, thinking he would leave but all he does is cup your cheeks with his hands and peck the tip of your nose

→ you make it official after two or three dates

→ first kiss is definitely not his first in general, but it was so innocent and sweet and eeeeek

→ happened while you were nervous about a test, he just leans down like ‘stop worrying so much’ and just kisses you

→ after that you two can’t keep your hands or lips off each other

→ he needs to have a hand on the back of your neck or around your waist and you have to kiss his cheek every five minutes (as a reassurance that you’re there for each other)

→ really fun dates! amusement parks, zoos, aquariums, strolls around town with a coffee in hand

→ you truly make him another man and he realises there’s other good in life than money

→ you bring him home during holiday season and he’s SO formal and polite and shy that you don’t recognize him anymore

→ your friends(probably toritsuka) make an innuendo about seggsy time and something dies inside him bc ‘oh my god I haven’t even thought about that’ ‘what if they don’t want to have sex?’ ‘wait, what if they do?! I’m not ready yet!’

→ you make him admit he actually likes Nendou and thinks of him as a good friend bc ‘babe, you need friends’ ‘I have you’ ‘I’m your partner’ ‘a friendly partner!’ ‘Metori!’

→ you call him Tori or Tori-chan and he blushes hard every single time he hears his nickname come out of your lips

→ he would call you love or darling or sweetpea

→ thinks anything you wear looks hot and doesn’t care if half your ass is out

→ ‘wear what you want I can fight’ mentality

→ POSSESIVE!! IN A GOOD WAY!!

→ huge on pda, but not in a disgusting, makes your friends uncomfortable way

→ will kiss your lips if someone stares at you intensely

→ will also walk behind you at school corridors

→ ‘why is your skirt so short?:(’ ‘he was looking at your butt’ ‘pull your socks down’ ‘thigh-highs are only for me to see’

→ doesn’t do it in a toxic way though, he says most of it as a joke!!

→ very self-conscious bc most people used him for money in the past:(

→ please reassure him constantly with lots of hugs and words of affirmation

→ you make him noodles every once in a while and he calls it pleb food but he loves it (this is also canon I think)

→ you go to his house everyday after school

→ hanging out in his HUGE room, trying on his fancy suits and making fun of him

→ he just sits on his bed and looks at you lovingly, chin propped up on his palm

→ kinda jealous bc his suits look so good on you

→ daily naps in the most intimate positions

→ he’s the little spoon!!!! most of the time!!!

→ or he’d just lay on top of you to hear your heartbeat

→ when he’s the big spoon he nuzzles his head in the crook of your neck and hums a song until you fall asleep

→ not in a sexual way at all, but he likes when you wear his shirts and just underwear

→ you just look so fucking cute okay?

→ he plays you the piano:):):)

→ even teaches you his favorite melodies (if you don’t already know how to play)

→ on bad days you’ll sit on his lap, facing him, and you’ll hide your head in his neck so he can play something on the piano for you

→ big fan of the Harry Potter movies idk why

→ you two have a marathon sleepover twice a month at his home cinema

→ the first ‘i love you’ came from you when he tied your shoes so you wouldn’t have to bend down

→ he says it back IMMEDIATELY with a HUGE blush on his pretty face

→ after that he says it ALL the damn time and even texts you little I love yous and paragraphs, especially when he knows you’re sleeping

→ you know that hair colour? He gets it professionally done

→ when you say you’re pretty good at dying and cutting hair, you’re his hairdresser once a month

→ he even suggested you dye a strand of your own hair the same colour as his

→ and you do!!!and it’s the cutest thing ever!!!

→ everyone teases the shit out of you both for being so cringe but you LOVE IT

uhhh the next ones are suggestive? just some intense snogging and one mention of future seggs

→ heated! makeout! sessions!!!! on his king-sized bed!!!!

→ he leaves hickeys everywhere! bc he says they look pretty on you

→ would buy you the best and most expensive concealer though so you can hide them for school

→ thigh man! squeezes your thighs, kisses them, marks them, sleeps on them later!

→ ‘they’re just so squishy and cute, love’

→ loves to play with your hair or have a hand in them, massaging your scalp

→ might pull on your ponytail bc you let out the hottest gasp ever

→ wants to have his hands up your shirt at all times, even while you’re studying or watching a movie

→ ‘your boobs make my cold heart feel warm’

→ how can you resist if he says shit like that?

→ wants you to unbutton his shirt while making out and trail your fingers up and down his abs

→ he has ONE pierced nipple and you can not change my mind

→ you kiss down his chest and peck his pierced nipple while making out and he’s FERAL

→ gets so hard when around you in general

→ but if you wear his shirt and your thigh-highs?

→ BUCKLE UP AND GET READY

→ talks and jokes about sex a lot and pretend-fucks you when you’re bent down but he’s SO SCARED OF DOING IT

→ neither of you mind it

→ you can wait until you’re 30 for all you care

end of suggestive headcanons;)

→ you both love to talk about your future together

→ like moving in together right after high school

→ he’s already renting the apartment of your dreams, just to have it ready

→ just know you’re set for life with this man

→ he won’t ever let you go, even after the worst fights

→ idek if I could bring myself to fight with this man BUT-

→ if you did fight it would end in tears from both sides and instant regret

→ you drown each other in apologies and hugs and kisses and promises for a life together

→ your birthday gift for your 18th birthday is a promise ring HEHEHEHE

→ ‘babe’ ‘I told you I’ll marry you one day, this just makes my promise official’ ‘it’s beautiful’ ‘that means it’s perfect for you’

excuse me while I go DIE in a corner in hopes of reincarnating as his partner

~~~~~~~~♡~~~~~~~~~~♡~~~~~~~~~~♡~~~~~~~~

#tdlosk #anime fluff #saiki fluff #saiki k headcanons #saiko metori #saiko x reader #saiko metori x reader #saiki kusuo no ψ nan #saiki imagines #tdlosk x reader #the disastrous life of saiki k.#the disastrous life of saiki k x reader

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shorkbrian · 4 years

Note

Can you write about step bro kirishima getting in the shower with you or something along those lines?

(This was supposed to be a Drabble but it’s like??? a one shot bt also a Drabble idek what's going on anymore)

okay a Thot™️ butokei okei oeki hear me out

Friday night, you’re taking a shower and washing off all the grime from the day. The hot water is so relaxing and so you take a bit longer than you normally do, relishing in the heat loosening your tense muscles and flowing over you like a warm hug.

Step bro Kiri barges in, fresh from football practice that ran a little late - the school had been locked up so they couldn’t use the locker rooms. He’s sweaty and tired and he just wants to take a shower and pass out, hadn’t even realized you were in there.

Your hands fly to cover yourself, you yell at him to get out. He closes the bathroom door, but he’s on the wrong side, still inside the bathroom as he locks the door. Then he’s stripping out of his clothes, giving you that sweet, goofy grin.

“Aw, c’mon, can I just jump in with you? I’ll be real quick, promise.”

You shriek at him, still trying to cover yourself. “No! Leave, dude!”

But he just shakes his head, shucks off his jockstrap and you’re turning bright red, averting your eyes to the ceiling so you don’t have to see his dick (But holy cow, he’s huge)

And then he’s stepping in with you, putting his big hands on your shoulders to gently move you to the side so he can get under the spray of hot water. You splutter - what does he think he’s doing, you’re siblings!

You try to verbalize this, but Kirishima just shrugs. “I did it with my dad’s family.”

That elicits a frown. You were pretty sure he was an only child, and his dad had never talked about any other kids. But he wasn’t going to leave, and if it didn’t bother him, if it was normal and routine for him to shower and not be shy about his nakedness....

Still, you try your best to cover yourself as you reach for the conditioner. You’re a bit shy about your body, feel weak and chubby next to Kiri, who’s ripped as all fuck.

You’re battling with insecurity as you turn away from him, face the wall to start putting conditioner in your hair. Next thing you know, your stepbrother has his hands in your hair, scritching and scrubbing and helping you rub in the conditioner.

Body tensing, you make to turn, bat his hands away but then you remember you’re naked, so you stay put. You huff at him as he refuses to let up, hands following you no matter how you move.

“Let me help, it’s the least I can do after intruding on your shower time.”

He washes your hair. Offers to help you scrub down too but you quickly decline. Then he’s handing you the shampoo and conditioner, asks if you wouldn’t mind getting his hair. It always such a pain to wash out all the gel.

His back is turned, you figure it’s not that big of a deal so you agree.

You’re thorough and clinical, robotic as you scrub in the shampoo, wash it out. Squirt conditioner into your hands, massage that in. He’s sitting on the shower stool so you can reach, make it easier on your arms.

And then he moans.

You freeze up, but his hand catches yours before you can pull away from his head.

“Sorry, keep-keep going.”

You do, hesitantly. Your hand catches on a knot and you pull a little too hard, a few strands of hair come away and your stepbrother is moaning again, and you’re done - this is too weird, you’ll finish showering later.

Before you can turn, step out of the shower, Kirishima is facing you - eyes level with your chest.

“Kiri!” You yelp, covering your chest with your hands. His eyes flick downwards, in between your legs, and you quickly try to cover that part of your body too, but he catches your hand, standing up so he towers over you.

“Hey, hey... you’re beautiful, no need to hide. I don’t.” He winks at you as he grabs your other hand, pulling it away from your chest. You don’t have time to yell at him before he’s opening his mouth again.

“Wow, you’re really pretty, you know that? Prettiest girl I know.”

You’re blushing and trying to pull your hands back, but Kiri won’t let you, dark eyes flicking up to meet yours. He looks different like this - hair dark with water, hanging down in his face, eyes hooded and filled with an emotion you don’t dare try to decipher. You know you won’t like putting a name to that look.

“Look, you’re so pretty you made me all hard.” He chuckles, chuckles.

Horrified, you can’t stop yourself from looking down, getting a full glance of the full dick between his legs, so big and heavy it’s barely pointed upwards. You blanch.

“Kiri let me go.”

“So soon? You haven’t rinsed out your hair yet.”

You’re pulling away from him harder now, but he’s so strong - you don’t even move.

“It’s okay, I’ll do it later.”

“I wanna do somethin’ with you though, it’ll be fun.”

Your stomach twists and Kiri pulls you to his body with a quick jerk. You collide with his chest, feel his cock touching your stomach. His arms wrap around you, holding you in place. He starts to almost rock you, moving you back and forth with his body in a soothing manner.

“You know how in those cheesy movies the boy and the girl play pretend?”

Struggling is pointless, so you look up at him, confused.

“Y’know, like... pretend girlfriend? I wanna play pretend girlfriend with you.”

And then he’s reaching down with one hand, spreading your cunt, teasing a finger inside. You gasp, the intrusion surprising you, and then he’s pushing in another finger.

He fingers you open, rubbing at your walls, slowly adding more and more fingers and you don’t even know how many he has inside you, three? four? but it’s almost painful. Kirishima’s cooing in your ear the entire time.

“Mm, pretty girl, you’re doing so well.”

“Yeah, you’d be a good girlfriend, so submissive and sweet.”

“Look at you, sucking my fingers in like that. You like this? I do.”

His fingers come out with a squelch, and then he’s sitting down on the shower stool, pulling you into his lap. You don’t even know what to do, what to say. You’re cold and wet and isn’t this wrong? He’s your stepbrother.

His cock is thick, lengthy. It’s the biggest one you’ve ever taken, or even seen for that matter. But he’s relentless as he lowers you onto it, grunting with the effort of holding himself back from ramming into you, rutting like a wild animal.

Kirishima’s cock hits so deep, makes you gasp and pleasure zings up your spine, tummy twisting with how good it feels. When he bottoms out the both of you take big, gulping breaths, pausing. You pause to adjust to the size, Kiri pauses to stop himself from cumming too soon - he wants to enjoy this.

It takes a minute, but then he’s palming at your chest, looking up at your with those big dark eyes, flashing you a grin before sweetly kissing along your jaw, making you moan (moan? shouldn’t you be screaming?).

“Alright pretty baby, think you can help me out now? Feel so good, all wet and hot. You’re the best little girlfriend.”

You aren’t thinking as you get your feet under you, getting purchase on the wet tiles to slowly push yourself up, let his cock come out of you a few inches, before sinking back down. You’re listening to his voice, doing what he tells you to, shame coloring your cheeks.

It feels so good.

Thighs burning, you keep riding him, Kiri dipping down to suck at your tits, squeezing the mounds in his big hands. He’s such a large man, all muscles and hard lines, big enough that it takes him no effort to grab your hips, start moving you along his cock like a little fleshlight.

Immediately your hands fly to his hair, twisting in the wet strands, unintentionally tugging.

Kiri moans.

His pace speeds up, you can hear the wet slap of your skin, he’s jostling you, treating you like a little rag doll as he spears you on his cock over and over. “Fuck, fuck, you’re-mmhh baby that’s good, do that again. Please do that again.”

You indulge him, grip his hair a little tighter and pull, and Kiri shouts, hips hammering against your ass. His cock is reaching so deep, hitting that special spot inside you without him even trying to. You’re writhing on his lap in pleasure, in disgust at yourself and at him, but you can’t go anywhere with his hands clamped tight around your waist.

“Kiri, Kiri! Gonna-gonna cum!” You warn him.

“Me too, fuck, just a little more baby.”

One of his giant hands slips down, fingers clumsily trying to find your clit. The second he does, you're already so sensitive and close that you cum, muscles clenching, eyes closing as you ride the delicious wave of your orgasm.

Kirishima follows soon after, his head thumping forward against the curve of your shoulder as he pants, wet warmth filling you up.

He helps clean you up after, fingers the cum out of you as he kisses you deep.

After that, Kiri wants to play pretend girlfriend with you every chance he can get, whenever your parents have a date night, late at night when he wakes up from a wet dream and you’re just a few doors away. He takes you out on pretend dates, “practice for when I get a real girlfriend!” he assures you. It doesn’t feel quite right, but he buys you ice cream if you let him feed it to you, and that's usually the only weird thing that happens on these “pretend dates”.

They're normal dates, normal when he takes you home and fucks you into the mattress after.

It’s easy to know when he’s in the mood, he says he wants to play your game, pretend girlfriend. He’s still the same old Kiri, the one that helps you with your homework, the one that likes playing Mario kart and loosing just so you’ll grin at him and toss the controller at him cause you know he let you win.

Kirishima still bickers with you over who gets to sit where at dinner, still ruffles your hair whenever he passes you in the hall. Asks you to help him set up the karaoke machine so the two of you can sing horribly to stupid songs.

But now there’s the addition of him fucking you.

You aren’t sure this “pretend girlfriend” thing is really pretend.

Not like you can do anything about it

#yandere kirishima #kirishima x reader #stepbro #stepbrother kiri #Kirishima Eijirou #yandere #yandere oneshot #?#idk #yandere boku no hero academia #yandere kirishima eijirou #kirishima #step siblings #overstepping #infantilization #kind of #Kiri doesn't give reader a chance to say no

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cheegu3 · 3 years

Text

~ Yandere Hyunjin - X31 [CULT SPECIAL 2/2 PTS]

tw / trigger warning: yandere themes, cult themes (brainwashing etc), violence, blood/gore, murder, disturbing themes, swearing

wc: 3k

a/n: so I’m a bit tipsy and wrote this just like really quickly idek what’s going on or if this is shit lmao sorry, I will proofread this tomorrow mwah love u

summary: the gang from your hometown that you knew as criminals had now kidnapped you and as they take you to their destination you soon find out they’re actually a cult, will you be able to escape or will you become their pet forever?

‘‘ You’re..them ‘‘ you muttered at last somehow sounding disbelieved.

‘‘ You must’ve known right? At least a part of you knew all along ‘‘ he answered with a smirk.

You huffed.

‘‘ If I knew, don’t you think I would’ve fought back harder than I did? ‘‘ you looked at him coldly.

‘‘ Well actually- ‘‘ he leaned in closer to you, so close that you could see your own reflection in his crazy, empty brown eyes.

‘‘ I think you wanted this ‘‘ he adds.

‘‘ W-what are you fucking crazy? ‘‘ you exclaimed hysterically, the panic was overtaking your body every second that passed.

He nodded and the smirk was back again as if he enjoyed seeing you like this. You bet he had seen way worse captures of his, who suffered a lot more.

‘‘ You want to know why? ‘‘ he asked tauntingly.

He didn’t even give you a chance to answer before he went on.

‘‘ You’re a lonely pathetic woman in her 20s. You have no job, no money, no boyfriend or husband and no family ‘‘ he said this in such a mocking manner that it took you aback. You felt like your whole body went cold, like you were an insect under his magnifying glass and after he had inspected you he crushed you.

This was all too much for you. You tried the best that you could to turn away from him, sort of looking out the window - only, all the windows were covered up and you assumed it was to make you feel disoriented and not see where you were. It was smart, you’d admit that. On top of that the leader had kept you occupied so you didn’t even get the chance to feel what ways the car was turning to somehow name your location.

He didn’t say anything more for the rest of the ride except for a low,

‘‘ I’m Hyunjin. The leader ‘‘

Then he left you alone, you weren’t sure if he was watching you but it sure felt like his eyes never left you, even when you were turned so that you couldn’t see him in the corner of your eye, the feeling of his gaze lingered.

Not long after, the van came to an abrupt stop throwing you forwards slightly. The doors were slid open revealing the familiar guys from before. Only three of them were in the doorway now though, one shorter one with freckles, the other shorter one with a mean and stern looking face and one that looked like a golden retriever. As you looked at them you wondered how they had ended up here in this gang. They were once normal people just like yourself, what happened to them? Perhaps...they were kidnapped like yourself and they would try to make you one of them?

‘‘ Get out ‘‘ the mean looking one barked at you and then said to Hyunjin ‘‘ We’re here master. Everything is ready ‘‘

The leader reached over again to unbuckle your seatbelt but he wasn’t really looking at you this time, he seemed to be in a hurry. In fact he seemed to be so stressed when you had stepped out that he swept you off your feet. You yelped in surprise but he wasted no time, walking straight away towards the buildings doors.

It looked like it was some kind of abandoned church. It was worn down and dark, covered in graffiti and had several white sheets covering up the window. You shivered at the creepy vibe it gave off, it looked like the perfect place for a gang.

As your group approached the entry doors, two of the guys from before hurried up in front to hold the doors open for Hyunjin and you. You felt him walk again and you tried to turn from your place in his arms to look around. You gasped.

People in masks and dark cloaks stood in a circle around some kind of table. The walls were dirty and worn out just like the outside and the familiar church seats didn’t look very familiar anymore, they were filled with clutter like books and candles. More candles decorated the walls and it had weird drawn symbols in white and red, which looked too much like blood.

You desperately tried to crawl out but his arms clinging onto you only got harder, tightening the grip. You were coming closer and closer to the group who had now turned when they noticed your presence. The group split in the middle, making way for you to pass through. You heart dropped when you had passed by the people.

Right there was an altar. It had old dry blood ingrained in it all over. By how the dried blood looked like it had run down the sides, you thought about how much blood there had to have been there, they probably killed someone and the thought of it makes you sick.

He sat you down unexpectedly gentle and stepped back slightly while looking at you. You felt like there wasn’t a chance in hell to escape with the mob getting ever so closer as the seconds passed, soon they’d be suffocating you although it felt like their mere presence was already doing that.

‘‘ W-what, where am I...Hyunjin ‘‘ you said his name slowly as if trying it out.

His expressions didn’t change, he looked cold like he had done that same night you met him.

‘‘ Y/n, I’ve had my eyes on you for a long time. Planning, waiting for the perfect moment to take you away ‘‘ he explained calmly.

You didn’t say anything but when he said he’d been watching you for a long time you felt chills down your spine again. You didn’t feel safe here and you didn’t know what they wanted.

‘‘ Master decided to save you ‘‘ one of the mob whispered in an almost hysteric voice.

They looked really riled up or quite frankly, crazy - from the way they got closer and closer and how they looked at their leader with so much admiration, like he was some sort of God.

‘‘ Save me? ‘‘ you asked looking straight at Hyunjin to try to read his face.

You thought that maybe they were just joking but he still didn’t move a muscle. He took a deep breath before speaking again.

‘‘ You see, all the people out there they’re really bad people. They have turned to the false God and I’m the only one who can save you ‘‘ he answered fairly casually studying your face and reaction to what he had said.

‘‘ Uh, false God? ‘‘

‘‘ Jesus and his father ‘‘

You huffed. It still felt like a joke but the people surrounding you made you doubt it. Either they were really good actors or this crazy man had taken advantage of vulnerable people and brainwashed them into worshipping him.

‘‘ He’s evil and tries to mask his evil words with acts of ‘‘ kindness ‘‘ ‘’ he air-quoted the word kindness and looked truly annoyed as he explained this to you.

You weren’t really sure how to respond.

‘‘ I...Appreciate that and what you do but I would like to go home now, is that okay? ‘‘ you tried.

‘‘ No ‘‘

Silence followed. You felt like the mob were silently judging you and maybe even hated you because you got all this attention from their precious leader.

‘‘ U-um well I do have to go, I’m not interested sorry ‘‘ you swung your legs over the stone seat and put your feet on the ground below.

He didn’t move from his spot which made you hopeful, but then when you approached the mob expecting them to step aside for you to pass - they didn’t. They stood just as still, just like him. You saw him turn to you and then felt a hard grip around your forearm.

He was angry but you also saw some hint of disgust in his eyes.

‘‘ See everyone how grateful you are that I saved you, see what could’ve become of you. We’ve got a lot of work to do with this one ‘‘ he said to the mob while staring into your eyes. He smirked for a moment and that’s when you realised, this was a cult.

He was fully aware of the truth vs made up things and how he affected all these people but you supposed he liked the power. It made you sick yet again to think about how many lives he had ruined by spewing such nonsense.

His loyal followers all shouted in union,

‘‘ Yes master! ‘‘

Before Hyunjin started to drag you to a doorway at the opposite side of the room. It felt like his grip was getting tighter and tighter and you groaned quietly at the pain, it was sure to leave bruises but you knew he didn’t care - he had probably left a fair amount of bruises on his followers before.

He took you through the doorway and turned to the right. You reached a long stone corridor that felt very creepy. He kept dragging you until he had gotten to the room at the end of the corridor. There, he still kept his iron grip on you while fumbling in his pockets to take out a silver key.

‘‘ This is where you will be staying ‘‘

Anger bubbled up inside you. Who is he to decide that he was gonna ‘’ save you ‘’ to kidnap you and to order you around without you having a choice? It made you feel so belittled, and because of it you hated him already and what made it worse is the fact that you were pretty sure he enjoyed it.

He shoved you in and closed the door behind him swiftly without turning his back to you, smart, he didn’t even give you one opportunity to escape him.

‘‘ Tomorrow will be your first ritual, you should be excited ‘‘ he gave you a small smile.

You wanted to punch him so bad, to kick and scream and to run for your life. The room he had pushed you into was as cold-stoned as the corridor had been, literally. It looked like an old-school prison cell in those castles with stone floor, walls and ceiling. The windows were barred shut and was way too high up for you to reach anyway.

The only thing that made it look anything other than a prison cell was the double bed in the middle of the furthest wall. It had scarlet velvet looking covers and looked quite comfortable. In that moment you wanted nothing more than for him to leave so you could let your growing exhaustion take over you and figure out a plan to escape later after resting.

And so he actually did - to your surprise. You suppose it was because of the look of burning hate you had given him this whole time or that you had refused to answer him but whatever the reason, you felt relieved.

He sighed and left, closing the door rather harshly after him but you didn’t even look at him, he didn’t deserve that.

Your head found the pillow automatically and you let your body relax, falling asleep not that long after.

‘‘ Hello? Y/n get the fuck up ‘‘ the distant voice who had been mumbling, or least that’s what it sounded like to you - suddenly started to get louder and clearer.

You body jerked awake when you realised it wasn’t a dream and the first thing you saw when you opened your eyes was those brown eyes of the leader himself. He looked annoyed, like you were just a burden to him and the fact that you’d woken up so late was just another inconvenience.

He rolled his eyes.

‘‘ Finally. We haven’t got all day Ms princess ‘‘

You yawned at looked at him still half-asleep. You got up without protesting though because you didn’t want to anger him any more.

You wasted no time and even got dressed in front of him, ignoring his presence while continuing to be in a dazed and tired state.

He seemed to wait as patiently as he could but that didn’t stop him from sending you glares every now and then.

At last you were ready, dressed in a white plain summery dress that had been put out for you to wear. You noticed while walking up to him that he was now wearing very light coloured clothes as well - a strong contrast to the day before. He didn’t have his piercings on, his tattoos were covered and he wore long white linen clothes. You gagged at the thought of him picking out clothes just so you would match.

‘‘ Come on ‘‘ he mumbled. His patience seemed to be running out.

He opened the door and basically pushed you out in front of him, then he closed the door once again and followed quickly. It felt like he was breathing down your neck, not giving you any space to - you assumed - not make you get away. You ignored him being that close and focused on his directions instead. He told you to go back the same way you had come from and out of the church, into a garden where the ‘’ ceremony ‘’ as he called it would happen.

You stayed silent and walked to where he wanted you to. The church was empty, which was a bit odd but you kept going until you laid your hands on the big doors again and pushed it open.

You recognised the place you had been at yesterday, even the car was still there. But you couldn’t do anything, not even get close to the car before Hyunjin barked his orders,

‘‘ Right. Then walk straight to the garden. No stopping ‘‘ and you reacted like a robot, casting one last sorrowful look at a possible escape route.

You followed his directions and walked into a clearing in the forest the church had been hiding behind itself. The mob was there again.

Of course

You thought yourself and couldn’t stop your hand from forming a fist. More people, less chance of escaping. But where else would they be if not by the side of their precious leader?

They gave you very genuinely happy smiles which freaked you out and you smiled back awkwardly to not feel like you were being rude. As you approached the group Hyunjin put his fingertips to your upper back guiding you forwards, or rather to the middle of the circle again who parted once you got close, allowing you to pass through.

Then you spotted it, another altar.

But this time you weren’t really scared, until Hyunjin told you lay down on it and his words from before rang in your head over and over again,

‘‘ Tomorrow will be your first ritual, you should be excited ‘‘

Fuck

What was going to happen to you now?

‘‘ Welcome everyone ‘’ he started off his speech, turning to the gathered crowd.

‘’ We’ve gathered here today to make a union, to forever bond the master, the greatest, to y/n, the princess ‘‘

Your head was spinning. It felt like the coldness of the stone you were laying on had transferred to your blood, making it ice cold. You weren’t even sure if you were alive anymore or if this was possibly just a dream.

‘‘ Y/n? ‘‘ he suddenly called out which caught your attention.

You turned your head to him, tears threatening to fall any second now.

‘‘ I have to do this, for us to be together forever ‘‘ he said this in an almost pitiful way and your gut knew what was coming but you didn’t want to believe it.

You were going to fight and be optimistic until the last second.

‘‘ You first, then me okay? If you keep still this will be quicker ‘‘ the fact that he looked truly sorry made you forget for a moment what kind of person he was.

He walked up to you and you got so enhanced in his eyes, it was easy to see how all the other people had believed his lies. You were even ready to accept your faith, and so you did the only thing you could - you closed your eyes and waited.

You weren’t sure but you think you heard him say ‘’ good girl ‘’ under his breath. You also heard some distant hushed talking and some items being scraped together but you held you breath and kept your eyes closed, it was for the best.

No closed eyes or deep breaths could’ve prepared you for what came next though,

the pain was unbearable. A cold metal that was sharp penetrated your chest causing you to scream out.

‘‘ Stop! Stop! Stop! ‘‘

Hyunjin hushed you comfortingly and stroke your hair slowly, placing small kisses to your forehead but you barely felt them - the pain was so overpowering it felt like it was the only thing you felt.

Eventually when your breaths started becoming more heavy and your vision started to get blurrier, you opened your eyes one last time. You saw the man you had started to hate in such a short time, now...he was your killer.

Then you closed your eyes again and waited and waited while it felt like the liquid had decorated your entire body, hell maybe even the whole forest.

At last, after much suffering

the world did become black and you were finally at peace.

#yandere #yandere kpop #kpop yandere #stray kids #stray kids fanfic #stray kids yandere #kpop #kpopidol #kpop scenarios #kpop imagines #hyunjin

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hrina · 4 years

Text

1923, Pt. II - The Week

PAIRING: Harry x Reader RATING: M WORD COUNT: 8.4k REQUESTED: perhaps? idek anymore

hey yall, here’s PART 2 of the historical/groundskeeper!AU :) i really hope u guys like it, i spent the past two weeks trying to make it the best that i could. anywayyyy im sure everyone knows the drill by now: support content creators by reblogging their work and/or offering feedback! happy reading 💚💚💚

warning: parts of this fic will contain mature language and nsfw content. if it makes you uncomfortable, you absolutely do not have to read! take care of urselves <3

PART I: The Day

~*~

July 7th, 1923

It’s hot.

You set your glass of water back onto the little table to your left. Excess condensation coats your fingertips; you wipe them against your forehead, hoping that it will be enough to cool you down. No such luck—the droplets provide a momentarily chill before sinking into your skin, leaving you feeling just as scorched as before.

You recline against the cushy yellow lounger, closing your eyes and tilting your face up to the sky. The sun beats down against your cheeks. The thin, cottony material of your dress is pasted to your thighs; you flex your legs slightly, hoping that the fabric will unstick.

In the distance, Apollo and Artemis—no longer confined to their pens—roam around the small, girded pasture adjacent to the stables. The fountain in the middle of the back lawn is about one hundred feet away. Skinny streams of water shoot out from the stone hands of a carved angel, spilling picturesquely into the upwelling below.

You crack one eye open slowly, letting your focus drift over to where Harry is crouched on the cobbled staircase of the porch. Sweat glistens on the nape of his neck as he furiously scrubs the steps clean.

Your thoughts retreat to the night before, when he’d kissed the back of your hand whilst standing in that very same spot. As though triggered by the memory, your knuckles begin to tingle.

Harry sits back on his haunches and drags his forearm across his face, wiping away the excess perspiration on his skin. His white shirt is soaked through with moisture. When he lifts his attention from the ground, your gazes lock for a brief moment. Immediately, your open eye snaps shut.

And you can’t be entirely sure, but you think that he may have smiled.

You lay in silence for another five minutes or so, indulging in the occasional sip of water as the heat of the summer envelopes your body. You only sit up when someone clears their throat from behind you, pulling you from your tranquil daze.

“Good afternoon,” Martin says. He’s standing a bit too close for comfort, casting a looming shadow over your torso.

“Hello,” you reply. You try to mask the disappointment that threatens to seep into your tone. A small part of you—a tiny, microscopic part—had been hoping that he was someone else.

“Thought you could use something to drink,” he says, plopping onto the recliner to your right. Your attention falls lower—two glasses are nestled comfortably in his hands. The caramel-coloured liquid inside each cup glints alluringly, sloshing over a trio of ice cubes that have already begun to melt.

“Is that…scotch?” you say, narrowing your eyes slightly.

“Yes,” he says. He extends an arm, offering you one of the glasses. “Fancy a taste?”

“I’ve had it before,” you say smoothly, shaking your head. “Truthfully, it’s not my favourite. Besides—” You gesture to the little table on your left. There’s still a bit of water residing in your cup. “—I already have a drink.”

Martin’s face falls.

“Thank you, though,” you add, not wanting to sound rude. “I appreciate your thoughtfulness.”

That seems to bolster him a bit, you think, because his shoulders straighten as he shoots you a satisfied smile.

You clear your throat, gazing pointedly up at the sky. “Where’s Andrew?”

“Hmm? Oh.” Martin taps one foot against the floor. He’s wearing a pair of shiny black loafers—they’re new, you guess, and extremely expensive. “He’s in the middle of a call. Private business pertaining to Markham Motors, I believe. It doesn’t concern me—not yet, anyway.”

“Not yet,” you echo.

He chuckles, nodding proudly. “Your brother is remarkably ambitious. Once our two companies merge, I reckon that we’ll be unstoppable.”

“How exciting,” you murmur, reaching over for your water. You raise the cup to your mouth, expelling a soft sigh. “You must be thrilled, I’d imagine.”

“All in a day’s work,” he grunts, setting one glass of scotch down onto the ground. He lifts the other to his lips, taking a delicate sip.

You sit there awkwardly, unsure of how to respond. Martin’s eyes roam the wide expanse of your backyard, jumping from the stables to the fountain and back again. He pauses, then, humming pensively when he spots Harry polishing the stairs less than fifteen feet away.

“It’s a bit…unconventional to be dining with the help, is it not?” he asks, cocking one eyebrow nonchalantly.

You stiffen and glance over your shoulder—Harry is on all fours, scowling as he scrubs a particularly stubborn stain from the bottom step. His chestnut hair tumbles onto his forehead, twisted into pretty ringlets. A spark of heat blazes up your spine.

You turn your attention back to Martin, only to find that he’s also watching the other man work. It’s different, however—his look is judgmental, austere. His thin upper lip curls in disdain and his eyebrows cinch together, radiating condescension.

“We are…” You choose your words carefully. “…a rather unconventional family. Wouldn’t you agree?”

“I suppose so,” he acquiesces, tilting his head to the side. “But does it not distress you, somewhat? Inviting them into your home, making yourself and your possessions vulnerable?”

Something gross festers in the pit of your stomach. You bite back the sound of disgust that threatens to spill from your mouth.

“No,” you state curtly. “Not at all.”

Silence falls over the two of you, thick and poignant and tremendously uncomfortable. After a long, tense moment, you sit up, dusting off the skirt of your dress and releasing a faint groan. “I think I’ll be heading in, now.”

“As will I,” Martin replies, jumping to pursue you.

You stand, clutching your glass of water in one hand. He quickly reaches out with extended fingers, trying to take it from you. Though chivalrous, the action is weak, and you both know it.

“Here, let me—”

“No, it’s quite alright—,” you start, but he cuts you off.

“I insist—”

“Mister Russell, really, it’s fine—”

The cup, slick with condensation, slips from your grasp and shatters loudly against the floor. You gasp when a jagged shard slices against your ankle. Pain flares up your shin; abruptly, you fall back onto the lounger. You angle your leg to the side, surveying the damage with wide eyes. The cut is about an inch long; blood drips from the injury, seeping down toward the sole of your bare foot. Bile gathers on your tongue.

“Good God!” Martin exclaims unhelpfully. “You’re bleeding!”

“I can see that,” you snap, bending down and pressing your fingertips against the laceration.

Heavy footsteps approach. When you cast a glance over your shoulder, you find Harry stalking toward you, his eyebrows furrowed in bewilderment.

“What happened?” he asks, but when you hold up one hand, he freezes in his tracks.

“Be careful!” you warn, your voice strained. “There’s glass everywhere.”

“What happened?” he repeats. His gaze lands on Martin, and his nostrils flare unnervingly. “What did you do?”

“Nothing!” the other man protests, retreating a few steps away. “It just fell!”

“Go back inside,” Harry commands. “Check all the lavatories—there may be spare bandages in one of the cupboards.”

Martin frowns—you get the feeling that he’s not exactly used to being ordered around. “Now, you listen here—”

“Mister Russell!” you interrupt shrilly, fixing him with a stern glare. “Do as he says. Please.”

Martin closes his mouth and purses his lips, nodding tersely. He nearly trips over himself as he stumbles back into the house.

“He’s useless,” you mutter, bloody fingers slipping against your skin.

Harry doesn’t reply; instead, he situates himself on the opposite edge of the recliner, beckoning you closer with a quick flick of his hand.

“Face this way,” he instructs. “There’s no glass on this side.”

You obey him wordlessly. He gets you settled back into the chair, guiding your right leg over his thigh so that your foot lays comfortably in his lap. With no hesitation whatsoever, he grasps the white fabric covering the jut of his shoulder and gives a mighty tug. The sleeve rips cleanly at the seam. Your eyes nearly bulge out of your head.

“We’ll use this,” Harry says, pulling the material down to his wrist. “Just until he returns with proper bindings.”

“Alright,” you whisper. It takes every ounce of willpower in your body to avoid staring at his naked arm—golden, sweat-slicked skin stretched over smooth, corded muscle. A frighteningly large part of you wants to lean forward and sink your teeth into his bicep. You swiftly curb the urge, swallowing heavily and trying to focus your attention on something—anything—else.

“How did this happen?” Harry asks.

He balls the fabric up and dabs cautiously at the blood dripping from your wound.

“He was—well, I don’t even know, really,” you scoff, rolling your eyes. “He was trying to be gallant, I suppose.”

“‘Gallant’?” he parrots, gazing down at your leg. “He fancies you, then?”

“Yes.” You pause, rethinking your answer. “No.” You sigh. “Perhaps; I’m not sure.”

He smirks. Despite the pain pulsating up your leg, you wiggle your toes and nudge him with your knee.

“What’s so amusing?” you ask, puzzled.

He simply chuckles, shaking his head. “It’s just that…you’re a bit oblivious, that’s all.”

And for the second time in less than twenty-four hours, you balk and say, “I beg your pardon?”

Harry laughs. Gingerly, he wraps his torn sleeve around your ankle, applying a gentle pressure to your skin. You wince, curling your fingers into fists. His hands—though rough and calloused—are surprisingly tender with their movements. He’s slow and practiced, treating you as though you’re made of porcelain. Your heartbeat quickens; you hope that he can’t hear the way it thunders beneath your ribs.

“You’re rather clueless when it comes to gauging a man’s affections for you,” he explains. He makes it sound as though it’s a phenomenon of which you should already be aware.

You narrow your eyes and purse your lips.

“Tread carefully,” you tell him, though you can’t hide the sardonic undertone in your voice. “You’re wading through dangerous waters, here.”

“What I mean to say is—” Harry clears his throat, shrugging coolly. “—since yesterday’s arrival, that fool’s chattering hasn’t ceased. Building oneself up with words…that’s the sign of a boy aiming to impress a girl.”

“You don’t sound too keen on that method,” you note.

He rakes his fingers through his hair. “Excellent observation. I am not.”

“And why is that?” you ask, cocking one eyebrow challengingly. “How exactly would you attempt to make your affections known?”

Harry places one of his palms on the skin just below your knee. You jump at the contact, shocked by his brazen move. Having his hands on your ankle is one thing—but your knee? It’s risky, bold, nearly scandalous…and with the way he’s looking at you, it’s clear that he knows it, too.

“Building oneself up with words is a boy’s game,” he tells you. “But building oneself up with actions…that’s the sign of a man aiming to impress a woman. It may be a bit unconventional, but—” He pins you with a deliberate stare. “I work for a rather unconventional family. Wouldn’t you agree?”

You say nothing. Harry’s green eyes pierce your face, peeling you open layer by layer. You’ve stopped breathing, your chest completely still. Goosebumps erupt across your arms. Instinctively, your concentration falls to his lips: twin pink petals, sinful and alluring and so incredibly—

“I’ve got the bandages!”

And just like that, the spell is broken. You drag your gaze away from the man in front of you, turning to the side and watching as Martin jogs back over with a thick spool of gauze clutched tightly to his chest.

“Here,” he pants. He passes the roll to Harry, who clears his throat loudly and begins to unwind the bindings with swift, proficient fingers.

Martin then fixes his attention on you, raising his eyebrows quizzically.

“Are you alright?” he asks, shooting you an expectant look.

“Fine,” you croak out, though the blood roaring in your ears sincerely begs to differ.

You blink yourself out of your stupor, running your tongue over the roof of your mouth and exhaling shakily. Harry has turned back to your ankle, replacing the makeshift bandages with proper ones. You glance up at Martin and nod your head, praying that he can’t see the flustered agitation brewing in your eyes.

“Yes, Mister Russell, I’m fine. Thank you.”

July 9th, 1923

The library is your favourite room in the house.

It’s quiet, peaceful, and is accompanied only by the rarest of disturbances. Lydia’s never really enjoyed reading—she can’t sit still long enough to do so. Andrew hasn’t stepped past the threshold in years—he’s been too busy running Markham Motors. So, that just leaves you, along with the freedom to choose from the hundreds of books lining the shelves. You’ve dabbled in fiction and non-fiction alike, soaking up the words from the page just as the ground soaks up rain from a storm.

The library has become your safe haven. You wouldn’t have it any other way.

You trod over to your favourite spot to read: a small alcove in the wall, decked out with fluffy cushions and tucked right up against a wide window. It gives you a perfect view of the driveway and the front lawn down below. You’ve spent hours in this little nook, absorbed in novels and poems and biographies. You’ve passed entire nights curled up next to the windowpane, having dozed off in the middle of a story. It’s become a tradition of sorts, despite the dull ache in your neck that always ensues when you stir the next morning.

The book in your hands is heavy as you sink into the mess of pillows. Bright, natural light streams in from the window to your left. You release a soft sigh as your fingers flip to where you’d last left off during your previous visit.

She is tolerable, but not handsome enough to tempt me—

You scoff and roll your eyes. You’ve read this story a dozen times; you already know how it ends.

For the next twenty minutes, nothing matters save for the adventures of Miss Elizabeth Bennet. You allow yourself to get lost in the world of Pride and Prejudice, eyes hungrily raking over every printed detail. You’re only pulled out of your reverie when a shrill, jubilant cry pierces through the silence.

Instinctively, your head snaps toward the direction of the noise. Through the spotless windowpane, you spy Harry and Lydia standing on the lawn. Harry is holding a brown hose, angling it downward and watering the grass beneath his feet. Your sister is next to him, babbling and gesturing animatedly with her hands. You smile at the sight.

You slip your thumb between the pages of the book to mark your place. The novel is forgotten as you study the scene playing out below.

Harry is wearing an ashen blue button-up and a pair of black trousers. A thin white undershirt peeks out from beneath his collar. He smirks at something that Lydia says, ducking his head and trying to conceal the fond expression on his face. She throws her hands up in the air and twirls around—when she staggers slightly, Harry holds out his arm. Her fingers dig into his elbow to regain balance, and the two of them dissolve into giggles. Warmth unfurls in your chest.

Harry tilts his head back, surveying the cloudless sky with squinted eyes and a wrinkled nose. His attention turns to the house, then, sweeping absentmindedly over the fair bricks and stone accents.

Suddenly, his gaze darts forward. You freeze when his green irises lock squarely on you.

Hot humiliation creeps up your neck, because of course. Staring at him and remaining undetected is a luxury that few can afford.

Your lips part with a soft gasp, and your shoulders stiffen. The corners of Harry’s mouth curl up slightly—so faint, you think it may just be a figment of your imagination. The gilded copy of Pride and Prejudice rests in your lap, abandoned. It mocks you and your preoccupation—your fascination—with the man on the ground.

Harry shoots you a small, mysterious smile, and lifts his chin. You sit up straight, processing his request.

“I shouldn’t—,” you start to say before remembering that he can’t actually hear you. You clench your jaw and shake your head, hoping that he’ll be able to register the movement through the glass.

But his teasing expression only deepens as he beckons you again. A ragged exhale falls from your lips, and a tepid swell of adrenaline floods your veins. You snap your book shut, tucking it against your chest and pushing yourself away from the window. You swear that your heart skips a beat when your feet hit the floor.

Don’t rush, don’t rush, don’t rush.

It’s hard to maintain a measured pace, especially when such a big part of you just wants to take off and sprint down the spiral staircase. You force yourself to dawdle, to smooth your fingers over the bannister and descend slowly. Your palms are clammy as you make your way across the foyer, eyes glued to the large double doors on the opposite wall.

And then you’re outside, the sun beating down against your face and the breeze blowing gently through your hair. You saunter toward the edge of the large portico, leaning against the stone railing with your novel still clutched tightly to your sternum.

“Dee!”

Lydia whips around, taken aback by the call of her name. Upon recognising you, her features morph into a mask of quizzical mockery.

“Where have you been?” she asks, jogging over.

“I was reading,” you say, shrugging indifferently. After a short moment, you add, “Beth’s looking for you.”

“Me? What for?”

In the periphery of your vision, you spy Harry approaching. Water leaks from the nozzle of the hose; he gathers a few droplets onto his knuckles before smearing them across his sweaty forehead. You bite your tongue to suppress a snort.

“Dinner, I believe,” you lie, turning back to your sister. “It’s your turn to choose, is it not?”

Lydia’s eyes light up. “You’re right! It’s Monday, isn’t it?”

Her feet smack loudly against the cobbled steps as she races toward the door. Before disappearing inside, however, she skids to a stop, spinning around and raising one arm high above her head. “Goodbye, Harry!”

Harry smiles, lifting two fingers to his temple in a lazy salute. “Goodbye, little bug.”

A moment later, she’s gone.

And a moment after that, you find yourself sincerely regretting your decision to send her away. Harry observes you with raised brows and a knowing smirk on his face. You gnaw anxiously on your bottom lip, avoiding his eyes. A long beat of silence ensues.

“Hello,” he finally says.

You exhale quietly, relieved. “Hello.”

“Beautiful day, isn’t it?”

“It is,” you agree.

You lean against the stone bannister, peering down at him. The breeze picks up, gusting through your thin skirt and blouse. A small part of you notes the theatrical romanticism of it all: his being on the ground, the butterflies flapping around in your stomach—

“Do you always spend the majority of a nice day locked away in the library?” Harry asks. His pretty irises twinkle alluringly when your gazes meet.

“I—no,” you stammer. “I was just…reading.”

“As one does in a room full of books, I’d expect.”

Embarrassment blooms in your chest.

“Yes,” you say softly. “Precisely.”

He grins.

“How is your ankle?” he asks, motioning toward the bottom of your leg.

“Oh.” You look down, flexing your foot. “It’s healing. I should be fully rehabilitated in a few days.”

Harry chuckles, nodding. You purse your lips and try for a smile, but you’re afraid that it resembles more of a grimace.

“What’ve you got, there?” He lifts his chin, gesturing to the novel tucked between your forearm and your chest. You’re grasping it so tightly that you’re surprised the skin of your knuckles hasn’t split.

You clear your throat, revealing the embroidered inscription on the front cover. “Er—Pride and Prejudice. It’s my favourite.”

Harry hums. “Mine, too.”

And though it is extremely impolite, you can’t stop the look of shock that makes its way onto your face.

“You’ve read it?”

He chuckles sheepishly, dropping his chin. “You have bewitched me, body and soul,” he suddenly says, lifting his eyes from the ground and fixing his unwavering gaze on you, “and I love, I love, I love you. I never wish to be parted from you—”

“—from this day on,” you finish, breathless.

He smiles. Zaps of electricity surge down your spine. The two of you are silent, tripping over unspoken murmurs of indulgence. You scrape your tongue over your teeth, clueless.

Harry is the first one to break.

“I should get back to work,” he announces gently. He gestures to the hose hanging limply from his hand and gives a perfunctory shrug.

“Of course.” You nod, inhaling deeply. “I should get back to…”

He smirks when you trail off. “Reading?” he supplies.

“Yes,” you blurt. “Yes. Exactly.” You hesitate, drumming your fingers against the auburn cover of your book. “Good day, Harry.”

“Good day, miss!” he calls as you begin to walk away. You pause and cast a glance over your shoulder, an admonishment dancing on the tip of your tongue.

For the hundredth time, Harry, you mustn’t feel obligated to address me in such a formal—

But then you register the mischief on his face, and the realisation sinks in.

“You did that on purpose, didn’t you?” you ask.

Crinkles dig into the corners of his eyes.

“I’m afraid that I don’t understand,” he says, tilting his head to the side in faux-confusion. You wipe a clammy palm against the waistband of your skirt and bite back a small smile. Harry’s playful expression deepens, poking a cavernous dimple into his left cheek.

“Have a little compassion on my nerves,” you say, pulling another quote from the novel clasped against your body. “You tear them to pieces.”

His lips twitch, impressed and amused.

“What a shame,” he counters, snickering quietly, “for I dearly love to laugh.”

July 13th, 1923

The past hour of your life has been spent rolling around in bed and resenting your glaring inability to fall asleep. You’re not really sure why you’re still awake after midnight, but you’ve long since given up on trying to solve the mystery that is your body’s biological clock. Smooth satin sheets tickle your bare legs. You groan into your pillow and push yourself up from the mattress, tossing your feet over the edge and shivering softly when they land on the cold hardwood floor.

You wrap yourself up in a thin silk robe; the hem falls only an inch or two above your knees. The rest of the house is silent as you quietly exit your room and pad across the hall. You tiptoe down the spiral staircase; a brief moment later (during which you slip on some comfortable footwear), you’re stepping out into the backyard, greeted by gentle zephyrs and temperate summer air.

As you hop down the porch steps and begin the familiar trek toward the stables, you note the blanket of stars dotting the clear night sky. They twinkle happily, winking at you as though they know something that you don’t.

You shake your head at the thought. They’re stars. Big, flaming balls of gas floating in space, stationed millions of miles away. They know nothing.

Your ears perk up as you approach your destination, struck by the low stream of words carried by the breeze.

“…lilies, and dahlias, too. They tend to bloom during the summer…”

You freeze, feet stalling in the dirt. Leaning in closer, you catch deep murmurs of a faceless voice. The stranger continues to list off different types of flowers; when a soft chuckle laces through the air, your eyes widen in disbelief.

Is that…?

Sure enough, when you creep into the stables, you find Harry standing in front of Artemis’ pen, running his fingers through her shiny mane. His back is to you, shoulder blades flexing beneath the dark button-up adorning his torso. The sleeves reach his biceps, stretching slightly whenever he lifts his arms.

“I’m sorry,” he’s saying as you inch closer, hopelessly engrossed in the pseudo-conversation. “Sugar cubes are a bit of a rarity in my home. I haven’t any others.”

A twig snaps beneath your foot. You wince.

Harry whips around, startled. Upon recognising you, he blows out a heavy breath. Tension leaks from his body, and twin pink spots form on his cheeks. You stare at the blush colouring his face, mesmerized—you’ve never seen him look so dumbfounded.

“Er—,” you say. You raise your hand in an awkward, half-hearted wave. “Hello.”

“Hello,” he replies.

A beat of silence ensues.

“What are you…?” you trail off, trying to keep your voice level. “Were you just—?”

“Yes,” he says quickly. A sheepish chuckle tumbles off his tongue. “I....I understand it, now. Talking to one’s horse is rather soothing.”

“She’s not yours, though.” Your response is blunt, unfeeling.

Harry’s nostrils flare, and his feet scuff against the ground. Now that he’s facing you, you’re able to get a better look at him. A white undershirt peeks out from beneath his button-up, leaving his collarbones exposed. A gold chain glints around his neck, illuminated under the dim light. He’s wearing brown trousers and those same black boots, but you think that he may have polished them, finally, because they’re considerably tidier than before.

“She’s not,” Harry agrees, swallowing nervously. “My sincerest apologies. I can see that I’ve crossed a line—”

You can’t stifle the giggle that bubbles up in your throat. Harry hesitates, fixing you with a bewildered expression. At last, you shoot him a small smile, shaking your head and waving away his regrets.

“I’m only teasing,” you say, chewing on the inside of your cheek. “Breathe, Harry.”

He exhales raggedly, ruffling the curls at the back of his head. “Jesus. You frightened me.”

“Good. Perhaps you’ve finally learned your lesson, then.”

“My lesson?” he echoes, cocking his head to the side. “And what exactly would that be?”

“To avoid sneaking up on others at night,” you say. “Especially if they’re in the midst of conversing with their horse. It’s a very private exchange, you know—endless confessions have been made under this roof.”

Harry laughs.

“I think I’ve supplied my fair share of confessions, tonight,” he says, shrugging nonchalantly. “I can leave you to do the same.”

“No,” you blurt out. “Wait.”

He pauses, shocked by your immediate refutation. You purse your lips as hot shame unfurls in your chest.

“I just meant,” you start, hastening to make amends, “you can stay, if you’d like. Besides—” You shrug. “It’s far more pleasant talking to someone who can actually talk back.”

~*~

“Harry. No.”

“Yes.”

“No. I can’t.”

“Yes, you can. And I’ll be right next to you. I won’t leave your side.”

You gnaw apprehensively on your bottom lip as he frees Artemis from her pen. She trots out and whinnies softly, tossing her head to the side. He shushes her, dragging a comforting palm over her back. You step closer, mirroring his movements and glaring at him with terse, squinted eyes.

“We’ll go slowly,” he says, fixing you with an earnest look. “A few steps at a time. That doesn’t sound too daunting, does it?”

After a long, overwrought moment, you surrender.

“Very well,” you say. You point at him accusatorily, extending your arm over Artemis’ body. “But as soon as I want to stop, we stop. Promise me.”

“I promise.”

Harry leans forward, bumping the pad of your finger with the tip of his nose. The contact makes you gasp. He pauses as well, having realised the implications of the thoughtless action. You swallow heavily; he clears his throat and averts his gaze.

“I’ll get the saddle,” he says.

His heel scrapes loudly against the dry dirt when he turns; you watch as he marches toward the pair of brown saddles hanging on the wooden wall. With a mighty groan, he heaves one from its rusted, metal hook, gathering the leather in his arms before making his way back over to you.

“Thank you,” you murmur shyly.

“You’re very welcome.”

You migrate to the side, petting Artemis’ mane as Harry slips the saddle onto her back. She huffs; you coo at her, holding her face in your hands to keep her calm. Harry spends the next several seconds strapping everything in place. After he’s finished, he gives a gentle tug, ensuring that you won’t slide and fall to the ground once you’re ready to mount.

“All set,” he says, squaring his shoulders.

You glance over at him with wide, frightened eyes. When he meets your gaze, his stoic expression melts into a pool of concern.

“Don’t be afraid,” he says, stepping closer to you.

“I—” Your throat burns. “I haven’t ridden in three years, Harry.”

“I know,” he says solemnly. He offers you his left hand. “Do you trust me?”

Your response is immediate. “I do.”

“Good.” The corners of his lips curl upward. His tone is unreservedly honest when he speaks again. “I won’t let anything happen to you, miss; I swear it.”

You slide your palm against his. A sharp tingle races up your arm, sending your heartbeat into a frenzy. You fight to keep your breathing even as Harry pulls you closer, positioning you in front of him and placing his fingers on your waist.

“Ready?” he murmurs. His breath is hot against the shell of your ear.

You nod.

He grunts as he lifts you. You kick out one leg, slinging it over Artemis’ back and pulling yourself up. Once you’ve settled into a comfortable position, you peer down at him, shoulders taut and ankles locked.

“Breathe,” Harry reminds you. He leads by example, inhaling deeply; you imitate him, trying to ignore the thin sheen of sweat gathered at the nape of your neck.

“What do I do, now?” you ask after a thin stretch of silence.

He chuckles good-naturedly, cocking one eyebrow. “You’ve forgotten?”

“No,” you say indignantly, frowning. “I just—”

You break off when he takes your hands and guides them forward. Your fingers wrap around the reins dangling from Artemis’ neck. You fist the leather firmly, swallowing down the hard lump in your throat. Harry’s nostrils flare as he retracts his arms. You’re fascinated by the way his tongue darts out of his mouth, swiping over his sunburnt lips.

“A few steps at a time,” he says, repeating his former words.

You nod, blowing out a shaky exhale. Gently, you dig your heels into Artemis’ belly and click your teeth. She snorts and takes a step forward; the air is swiftly knocked from your lungs.

“I’m right here,” Harry pipes up. He lays one palm against the back of the saddle, keeping pace. “I won’t let you fall.”

Gradually, you make it out of the stables. The distance can’t be more than fifteen or twenty feet, but it’s a start. You tug softly on the reins, and Artemis stops abruptly. The sudden pause has you lurching forward in your seat. You squeak; quicker than a lightning strike, Harry is there. His hand settles on the small of your back, keeping you steady.

You look down at him, and your gazes lock. Jade eyes gleam beneath the lustrous night sky. His attention falls lower, and only then do you realise that the hem of your robe has ridden up your leg. Most of your thigh is exposed—smooth skin on total display, mere inches from his face. You release an inaudible gasp, shifting your hips to the side so that the silk slips back down.

A muscle in Harry’s jaw twitches enticingly. He removes his touch from your back and turns away.

“Beautiful evening,” he says stiffly, peering up at the stars. “Wouldn’t you agree?”

“Yes,” you whisper. You clear your throat. “I’d like to dismount, now. Would you mind?”

He shakes his head and hums. “Not at all. Hold onto me.”

You place your hands on his shoulders, and he curls his fingertips into your waist. Wordlessly, he lifts you from Artemis’ back. You yelp when your ankle snags on one of the saddle’s leather straps. He stumbles backward, wrapping his arms tightly around your midsection and grunting in surprise. When you eventually regain your footing, your eyes widen at the compromising nature of your position.

Harry is clutching you against his torso, his face buried in your neck. Warm puffs of air leave his lips and coat the column of your throat; the sensation sends shivers down your spine. Your nails dig into his shoulder blades, chest heaving with difficult, onerous breaths.

It’s a stance that should only be shared between lovers, you think. Between a husband and his wife.

Harry is not your husband.

And you are not his wife.

The two of you break apart almost immediately, choking on hasty, half-formed sentences.

“My apologies, miss—”

“No, you needn’t—I should have been more cautious—”

“It’s late; you must be spent—”

“I’m not ready to leave.”

Harry freezes, his jaw agape. Several seconds elapse before he can find it in himself to muster a reply.

“I beg your pardon?” He’s breathless, swept away by your confession.

You shift awkwardly.

“I’m not ready to leave,” you repeat. You clasp your hands behind your back and fix him with an even stare. You hope that he can’t hear the slight quiver at the base of your declaration. “I—I wish to spend more time with you.”

He blinks. “With me?”

You nod. “With you.”

“What…?” He hesitates. “What would you like to do?”

You shrug. “Anything.”

Harry puckers his lips, lost in thought. After a prolonged moment of deliberation, his features light up. “I know a place.”

“‘A place’?” you parrot, brows knitting together.

“A place,” he confirms. “You trust me, do you not?”

“You already know the answer to that question,” you say, scoffing quietly. “I believe I’ve made myself abundantly clear.”

He chuckles. You tug on the sleeves of your robe and grate your slippers into the dirt. Harry watches you with careful eyes.

“Do it now, then,” he says, nodding encouragingly. He holds out his hand once more, beckoning you closer. “Trust me, now.”

You chew on your bottom lip, gracing him with a curt bob of your head. Artemis huffs as you wrap her reins around your wrist and slide your fingers against Harry’s palm. He pats your knuckles gently, guiding them to the crook of his elbow.

“Shall we?” he asks. It’s impossible to read the emotion in his voice.

Your response of endorsement is meek. Gone is the confident woman from a minute ago: the one who stated what she wanted without a second thought. She slips through your grasp easily, disintegrating into a pile of dust and leaving nothing behind.

“We shall,” you choke out.

Harry’s lips twitch with the ghost of a smile, and Artemis’ hooves clunk against the ground as he leads you off into the night.

~*~

“This is so…”

“Nice, isn’t it?”

“‘Nice’?” You spin on your heel slowly, taking in your surroundings. “It’s incredible.”

The water trickling through the creek is crystal clear. A few shiny rocks peek out from the shallow stream, gleaming in the moonlight. You peer up at the stars—hundreds of diamonds, perfectly visible thanks to the large gap of the clearing. Crickets chirp along the edges of the bushes, and yellow-green fireflies ride the breeze.

“How did you find this place?” you breathe.

“It may sound foolish—,” Harry begins. He holds one hand out; you transfer Artemis’ reins into his palm. “—but I can’t remember.”

“Really?” you ask, stunned. You trail after him as he leads your horse to a nearby tree. He loops her leather harnesses around a thick branch, tying a proficient knot and giving it a few experimental tugs. Your gaze remains glued to his hands: the way his fingers work deftly, the way his knuckles flex with each pull—

“Really,” he says. A soft sigh tumbles from his mouth as he steps back. “Come with me.”

You follow him to the middle of the clearing, trying to anticipate his next move. What you don’t expect, however, is for him to drop to his knees. He falls backward, spine meeting the grass with a faint thump. You gasp, staring down at him with wide eyes and parted lips.

“Don’t be afraid,” Harry hums, shooting you a playful smirk. He crosses his arms behind his head—you try to avoid staring at the prominent bulge of his biceps. “The weeds won’t bite.”

“O—Oh,” you stammer, nodding quickly. “Alright, then.”

Daintily, you lower yourself to the ground. He watches you with an amused expression on his face.

“What?” you say, pouting.

“Nothing.” He snickers quietly. You tuck your ankles beneath your thighs as he turns to the side, propping his head up with one hand. “Correct me if I’m wrong, miss, but…I presume that you don’t often make it a point to lay in the grass.”

“That would be an accurate presumption,” you say, laughing softly. Harry smiles.

“You should spend more time outside,” he says absentmindedly. “You’re always cooped up in the house.”

You cock one eyebrow teasingly. “Do you wish to see more of me, Harry?”

“Absolutely not,” he replies, humour evident in his tone. “I am simply trying to instill some sense of adventure into your life.”

The corners of your lips kink upward. In a matter of seconds, however, your delight melts away, replaced by a somberness that you can’t seem to shake.

“I was far more adventurous before the accident,” you murmur, dropping your gaze. You reach out, fiddling with a few blades of grass in an attempt to avoid Harry’s doleful eyes. “Now, I…I’m afraid of everything, it seems.”

Silence hangs in the air between you, filled only by the steady symphony of chirping crickets.

“If I may ask—,” Harry starts, shifting closer. “—what happened?”

You swallow down the lump in your throat. “Artemis shoved me off.”

“She did?”

“It wasn’t her fault!” you say quickly, holding up one hand. “She got spooked, I suppose. And I wasn’t expecting it, so…I fell.”

“What frightened her?” he asks, anxious creases digging into his forehead.

You shrug. “I don’t know. But since then, I’ve been uneasy about riding. If I’m oblivious to what alarmed her the first time, who’s to say that it won’t happen again?”

He nods. “I understand.”

You sigh, plucking a piece of grass from the dirt and twirling it between your fingers. “I wish I could be more like Drew,” you hum distantly. “Someone who throws themselves into their trauma instead of shying away from it.”

Harry’s brows knit together in confusion. “What do you mean?”

You frown. “He—he never told you?”

He shakes his head. “I haven’t a clue. What is it exactly that you’re referring—?”

“Our parents,” you say softly.

Harry’s mouth clamps shut. He inhales deeply, gracing you with a curt nod. You take his silence as an invitation to elaborate.

“They perished in a car accident,” you murmur, looking away. “My father was head of Markham Motors, at the time. He had overlooked a flaw in the latest model, and when they finally took the vehicle out for a drive, it—”

You break off, unable to continue.

Harry reaches forward, covering one of your hands with his. A puff of stale air catches in your throat. You glance down at him timidly, hoping that he can’t identify the flustered distress on your face.

“I’m so sorry,” he tells you, squeezing your fingers tenderly. “That must’ve been awful.”

You exhale shakily. “It was.”

For the next few minutes, the two of you say nothing else. Instead, you melt into your surroundings—the grass brushing your legs, the slow trickle of water in the creek, the dim buzz of fireflies drifting in the wind. At the edge of the clearing, Artemis snorts, lowers her head, and begins to graze.

At last, you decide to break through the stillness.

“Enough about my family,” you say. You recoil, subtly pulling your hand away. Harry is far too distracting. You’re afraid that if he touches you one more time, tonight, your poor heart will give out. “What about you?”

“What about me?” he replies. He settles back into his previous position: spine pressed flush against the ground, arms tucked coolly beneath his head.

“How are you?” you say. “How is your sister, in Paris?”

He peers up at you with raised eyebrows, impressed. “You remembered?”

“Is there a particular reason as to why I shouldn’t?”

Harry chuckles. “No, I suppose not.”

“Well, go on, then.” You rest your chin on your palm. “What is she like?”

“You’re a bossy little thing, aren’t you?”

You scowl. “Harry.”

“Right, right.” He sighs, smiling fondly up at the sky. “She’s…she’s lovely, really. She just got engaged, as a matter of fact. I haven’t met her fiancé, but he’s stellar, based on how she describes him in her letters.”

“That’s wonderful,” you say. Your gaze drifts longingly over the bridge of his nose. “Send her my blessings, will you?”

He glances at you out of the corner of his eye, mouth twisting in a roguish smirk. “I reckon she’d find that a bit odd—the two of you have never met.”

“Oh.” You purse your lips, bashful. “Perhaps you’re right.”

Harry laughs; you’re captivated by the dimples embossed into his cheeks.

“I’m only joking,” he tells you, waving away your concerns. “She’ll appreciate that very much. I’m sure of it.”

You don’t reply. Silence hangs in the air, thick and heavy, until his next words slice through the tension like a knife.

“She and I used to do this almost every night,” he murmurs.

“Do what?”

“Come outside,” he says, shrugging. “Lay on the ground. Stare up at the stars.” His irises glaze over with a forlorn look. “We always raced to see who could find the greatest number of constellations.”

“Really?” You don’t know why you’re so taken aback by his confession.

He nods. “Really.”

“Have you found any, tonight?”

He smiles. “Why don’t you come down here and see for yourself?”

The soil is surprisingly comfortable. You join him, resting your back against the grass and gazing up at the night sky. It’s an endless tapestry of diamonds—sparkling, infinite, beautiful. Your chest swells with a deep, relaxed breath as it all sinks in.

“Anything?” Harry asks expectantly.

You squint. After a long moment, a dejected sigh falls from your lips. “No. I’m not very good at this.”

He laughs. You watch, enthralled, as he lifts one hand and points to your left, singling out a curved cluster of stars.

“See these ones, over here? Shaped a bit like a hook? That’s Scorpius.”

“‘Scorpius’?”

“It means ‘scorpion’ in Latin,” Harry explains. “Scorpius was sent by the gods to kill Orion. He was then placed in the sky to advise mortals against the perils of vanity and pride.”

Vanity and pride.

You bite your lip and turn to the side, tucking a palm under your cheek. The action draws Harry’s attention; he does a double take, stunned by the sudden, close proximity of your bodies. His mouth quirks up into a coy smile as he mimics your position, brows furrowed in diluted mystification.

“What is it?” he asks.

You shift, swallowing heavily.

“I’m afraid that I’ve been unfair to you,” you say softly, gazing straight into his eyes. “I—I’ve misjudged you terribly, and for that, I must apologise. I was a fool.”

“You needn’t—,” he starts, but you press on.

“You are kind,” you say, voice thick with emotion. “You are intelligent, and clever, and you have more class in a single finger than most men have in their entire bodies.”

“Miss—”

“I was wrong about you, and I regret allowing my biases to blind me in such an atrocious manner. Can you ever forgive—oomph!”

Harry’s kiss is passionate, bruising. You stiffen, muscles locking in astonishment. One of his hands rests on the ground, providing balance; the other is on your arm, calloused thumb stroking your skin through the thin silk of your robe. You’re frozen, unable to react, because his lips are on yours, and he’s touching your body, and you’re nearly certain that you’ve died and entered the afterlife.

When Harry pulls away after a few short seconds, he’s stupidly sheepish. His eyelashes flutter open, and his stare immediately floods with remorse.

“I—forgive me,” he stammers, tripping over the words. “That was deplorable. I should have asked—”

Roughly, you grab his face between your palms. His cheeks are soft and smooth, jawline dotted with the faintest hint of stubble. The two of you exchange a look—electric, charged, thrilling. A single, critical moment ensues, during which a distinct quote emerges from the deep recesses of your mind.

A girl likes to be crossed a little in love now and then. It is something to think of.

The words echo in your head as you abandon all semblance of common sense, yanking Harry in by the collar of his shirt and kissing him again.

July 14th, 1923

“Quickly! We haven’t got all day!”

“Patience!” you call from the top of the stairs. You guide one last strand of hair into place before hurrying down the flight.

Lydia is waiting for you on the main floor. You set your hands on your hips and fix her with a stern glare, huffing at her eagerness. She sticks her tongue out at you. When you open your mouth to admonish her, she whips around and scurries through the large double doors, disappearing into the backyard.

Upon stepping outside, you find Martin and Andrew already sat on the patio. Lydia settles into one of the chairs around the table, smiling brightly and beckoning you over.

“There you are,” Drew says as you approach. “Beth should be out with dinner any minute now.”

“Do you know what she’s prepared?” you ask, tucking yourself into your seat.

Andrew shrugs and emits a noncommittal sound, clueless.

“Very well,” you sigh, casting a shallow glance across the table. “Good evening, Mister Russell,” you say, tipping your chin in Martin’s direction.

“Good evening.” He beams, tugging on the lapels of his yellow blazer. “Haven’t seen you all day—where have you been hiding?”

You cluck your tongue, tugging nervously at the hem of your dress. “I hardly think it fair for a woman to disclose her spaces of refuge.”

“Stop being so cryptic!” Lydia laughs. She turns to Martin, declaring matter-of-factly, “She was locked up in the library. It’s her favourite room in the entire house.”

Martin hums, diverting his gaze back to you. The expression on his face is indecipherable. “You read?”

You nod. “I do.”

A subtle movement in the periphery of your vision catches your attention. You turn your head to the side, and your heart nearly stops when you spot Harry making his way across the lawn. It appears as though he’s done for the evening, hands caked in grime and shirt speckled with dirt. He steps onto the dusty trail leading into the woods, beginning his journey home.

You haven’t spoken to him since last night—since he kissed you, and then you kissed him, and then the two of you kissed each other until you ran out of air to breathe. He led Artemis to the stables and walked you back to the house just as dawn broke, lighting up the sky with faint hues of pink and blue. You remember sharing a final embrace at the base of the steps before bidding him goodbye, flashing a smile and disappearing inside without another word.

“Would you excuse me?” you say, pushing away from the table and scrambling up out of your seat. “I just—I need to ask Harry about the lilies that he planted yesterday—I’ll only be a moment.”

You scamper off without waiting for a response.

“Harry? Harry!”

He pauses at the call of his name, turning around gingerly. When he spies you hurrying over, his eyes immediately drop to the ground.

You stop in front of him, tilting your head to the side. “Hello.”

“Hello, miss.” He doesn’t lift his gaze. The realisation makes you frown.

“How—how are you?” you ask, licking your lips and clasping your hands behind your back.

“I’m well, thank you. And yourself?”

“I—” Your nostrils flare. “I’m alright. I saw you walking home, and I just wanted to—”

“Forgive me.” Harry cuts you off swiftly. He refuses to look at you, still. “I’m weary. It’s been a long day.”

You recoil slightly, stunned by his candour.

“Of course,” you splutter, nodding. “We were both up quite late last night; time evaded us, I suppose—”

“So, you understand,” he says, stepping back. “I appreciate it. Thank you.”

You open your mouth to stop him, but your voice betrays you. Your chest grows tight when he lifts two fingers to his temple, offering up a half-hearted salute.

“Harry—”

He finally meets your gaze, and something inside of you breaks. His eyes are dull and gloomy, revealing nothing. You want to rush forward, to take his face in your hands and hold him close. To run your nails through his hair and smother him in a flurry of hard, worried kisses. To ask him why he’s acting this way. He had been so happy last night—what changed?

But the others are watching from the patio, and you’re a goddamned coward, and you can’t, you can’t, you can’t.

“Enjoy your dinner, miss,” Harry says. His tone is emotionless—it makes you want to cry. “Take care.”

~*~

PART III: The Month

if you’re enjoying this series so far, please consider donating to my ko-fi! thank you bunches <3

#harry styles one shot #harry styles imagine #harry styles smut #harry styles fanfiction #ok idk what else to tag it as lol #gentle reminder to rb the fics you like :) hope yall enjoy #harry writing #farmhandrry

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organic-guacamole · 3 years

Text

episode 209 spoilers below

I'm so late today but here it is

I love EJ, he's finally learning to be happy. I'm so proud.

Ms Jenn = every boomer during zoom calls, like jeez yes we can hear you stop shouting at me.

LOVE THE SUBTLE JOKE ABOUT QUARANTINE "these dark times" "you mean spring break?"

ah yes, remember when we thought covid was just gonna give us a longer spring break? good times

SEBLOS

damn the passive aggressiveness from Carlos and the absolutely over it tone from seb✋

CASWELL COUSINS!!!!! THEY'RE THE BEST!!!!

we needed more if this kind of goofiness for the first part of season 2 that only such an iconic duo can provide.

old old movies-

is it even that old, or is Nini being a gen alpha rn-

i choose to imagine EJ being scared of the movie and hiding in Ashlyn's shoulder while she keeps a straight face and then EJ pretending to be tough afterwards

aww redlyn are soulmates.... yknow, if gingers had souls

(please ignore me)

y'all saw how EJ's face *lit up* when Gina logged on? how dare you tell me he doesn't like her

ofc she's no damsel in distress, she's Gina porter, she's amazing.

so do we think she'd be the type to just glare at suspicious people? or bark at them

do they not know that Rini broke up? or is Ms Jenn just wanting Nini to suffer through her heartbreak to make her a better actress....

speaking of, why is Nini in the call? she's not in the show anymore. Unless she is, even after the rose and the song got cut, which would be so unfair to all those that auditioned properly before she even came back but whatever, she's the main character I get it 🙄

big red is a hero honestly, Nini better thank him for changing the subject like that

I can't-

i won't work you over the break-

this woman would 100% work her kids 24/7 if it was legal and idk how to feel about it.

YES GINA USE THAT CHARM

QUEEN

FRENCH QUEEN

SHE LEARNT FROM THE BEST (antoine obvi)

smh the airport lady, eavesdropping on Gina's call.

The way she was so happy to answer EJ's call, "eej"

I love them your honour.

EJ WITH PAINTED NAILS YES PLEASE

great now we need to see Gina, Ashlyn and EJ having a complete spa day and EJ getting really into it and Gina and Ashlyn take pictures of him when he's laying down in a robe with a mask and cucumbers on his eyes.

finally we get to see Gina's side of portwell

the way she considered it as flirting, this is the sign she asked for in episode 6 come onnnnn

no is Asher/jack really doing tiktok dances in an airport-

Ricky is me. I am burrito.

oh Lynne, sweetie, I'm sorry but the blonde hair is not it

is that even the same lady or-

THE BEAN

THE CHICAGO BEAN

THE BIG OLD METAL BEAN IN THE MIDDLE OF THE CITY 😭

jetlag is my go to excuse for anything... I haven't travelled in 2 years.

"welcome to the Lynne and Mike gossip show. where we talk about our depressed son that we both neglect in certain ways! And now a word from our sponsor, Nord VPN..."

SO MANY CANDLES

WHAT DEMON IS LYNNE TRYING TO SUMMON IN HIS ROOM-

is Nina becoming social media obsessed EJ from season 1? AND SHE LIED ABOUT HAVING SONGS TOO PLEASE WHY ARW THEY RECYCLING THE SAME PLOT-

Gina smiling at the picture of her family on Instagram makes me so happy, idek why.

EJ's nails are so pretty, we needed to see it more (unless he had it on for the rest of the episode and I just.... didn't notice🧍🏽‍♀️)

oh not the tiktok kid✋

yes ma'am end this strange mans whole tiktok career

sir take a hint and leave

GINA NO DONT SAY YOUR LAST NAME HE COULD BE A HUMAN TRAFFICKER

Ricky, walking in style✨

weird kid, ok then Lynne, can't you see he's this close to the edge?

not all your fault baby Ricky, Nini sucks a bit more

RICKY YOU DIDN'T COME DOWN HARD ON THE SONG-

YOU ASKED WHAT IT WAS ABOUT AND SHE SHUT YOU DOWN-

PLEASE DO NOT BLAME YOURSELF

ok but the deleting comment thing was very bad

still don't know if I like Jack honestly

hmmm so Nini's calling herself Nini instead of Nina in her little egg seat, while trying to write a song without inspiration.... Nini, honey, Ricky was your muse, he inspired you to write all those songs, even if it wasn't good for the relationship.

that doesn't mean you gotta get back with him, or that you can't write a song that not about him butttt it'll take some time

the rainbow sticker in her box and her rainbow shirt-

anyways wbk she's not totally straight

Jack are you a criminal?

quick, Gina, check his ankle for a tracker

THE YES AND PRACTICE STRIKES AGAIN

the way Gina wasn't into it in episode 6 but she's used the technique twice now

stole her grandma's Pomeranian-

Jack where the hell did you pull that out from-

the fake crying killed me, that looks like so much fun though

anyone wanna raid a first class lounge with me?

wait so is jack not gonna go in with her?

wouldn't he go in too? help look for the credit card? SO CONFUSED

the first class lounge guy was so into the drama though, watch his face when they start arguing 😭

sorry to break this to you Kourtney, but you haven't even blocked the second act yet soooo...

take that as you will

I love how all of them are totally dissing the dance off

that's the most realistic part of this show tbh

shouldn't Nini have asked how she knew....since the start? why is the fact that her best friend has knowledge of a North high secret now dawning on her...

Howie is sweet honestly, at least he's trying to help. but I stand with Kourtney, don't take him back just because he sang an amazing song, and is giving you a heads up on what's gonna happen...

KOURTNEY IS ME TRYING TO LEAVE AN ONLINE CLASS

I hate school

ooo Nini's writing a song about bad internet connection 🤩🤩🤩

I never lie, except when I do-

son that is the creepiest thing you could say to a stranger that you've been "helping"

2 truths and a lie👀

he's an Ariana fan 100%

called it.

OLDER BROTHER-

WHAT-

free spirit? damn so brother porter was in that horse movie

so has she been kissed or not?????????

I feel like she's moved more than 15 times though so possibly

but then if she's moved so much, and before east high she never opened up to anyone, she's never been kissed then?? damn

same though Gina so let's be besties please

heartbreak president is a great song title idea, give Nini a call rn

but wait

is the no strings attached feeling thing about her telling Ricky she liked him? she thought she was moving away so she thought it'd be no strings attached???

guys I think I figured it out insert the "I've connected two dots" meme

THE DUKE SWEATSHIRT

IS THAT YOUR BOYFRIEND'S

OMG I LOVE I LOVE

NOT THAT I KNOW OF???

ma'am did you just kill me

yes you did

Lynne and Ricky have such a weird relationship

YES IT DID SUCK

TODD SUCKS

LYNNE SUCKS

yeah I get that you wanted Ricky to like Todd BUT THAT WASN'T THE TIME

right so we already know that Ricky was so desperate to keep Nini cuz he didn't want to be like his parents, and now Lynne's talking about this-

Richard needs a long hug

yes Lynne, it is your fault. thank you for finally admitting it.

YES DYE YOUR HAIR

BLOND HIGHLIGHTS RICKY WILL RISE AGAIN

"sometimes the best, last thing you can do for someone you love, is let them go."

gotta admit I teared up at that point

not me thinking big red was calling ms Jenn cupcake for a hot second-

Carlos please omg, you're at the "beach" and they're leaving for the pool?

also, why not just do the call from the hotel room please omg

"don't ask me"

"Carlos"

OMG WHAT HAPPENED

big red wants the tea

O M G

SEB IS JEALOUS

JEALOUS SEBBY IS MY FAVOURITE THING IDC

I'm surprised ms Jenn knew how to give Nini permission to screenshare tbh

So lily's been stalking the East high kids and spending time editing this video while she's supposedly in an immersion trip.... right

EJ and Ashlyn's picture is so chaotic, what even is happening there

"slacking off" bestie its spring break, obviously they're confident enough that they'll get it done in time so why not focus on your own musical.

jealous seb = sassy seb

please what if those guys Carlos is posing with are his cousins or something and that's why he's so confused about Seb

6 YEAR OLD EJ I LOVE HIM I LOVE HIM I LOVE HIM

Nini saying she's obsessed with her ex, that's not weird at all 👍

I can just tell Matt had a blast harassing Julia with those puppets.

Jack please dont be like that, "yet"

chances are you'll never see eachother again 🥰

(honestly sometimes I really miss those friends I made on trips and stuff when we'd spend the day or week together, only to never see them again....those were the good days though)

Ashlyn and Nini should write more songs..... something better than this one at least

Nini: "im good"

cue the Tia Mowry (please I can't spell) crying gif

oh I forgot Ricky was in the show for a hot second

1. where did Gina get to film this without people being around

2. did she just... randomly change her clothes???

ok but the transition between Carlos and EJ

*chefs kiss*

now everyone shut up, EJ's singing

oh i think I'm pregnant

HIS MUSCLES

YES KOURTNEY

I love how big red and Kourtney went from being "the best friends™" to the couple in season 1, to kinda close themselves and having their own plots

sebby makes me so happy

props to biggies editing skills honestly

PORTWELL BEING SIDE TO SIDE I CANT

AND SEBLOS OMG

big red lives for the drama

"wow" so true Ricky

no he is not cute, stop it

"holding" ok that's kinda cute

yeah EJ's a lucky guy😌

jokes aside, it's not that hard to exchange numbers-

keep in touch if you want

ok I really like Jack now

if he comes back in season 3, maybe have him be LGBTQ+ ?

like the only out characters they have rn are Seb and Carlos and they're like the sterotypes, yk?

I'd love to see jack kinda break the mold

Ricky's breaking my heart

that song just hurts

the only thing

now I don't hate Lynne????????

HOW DARE THEY WRITE IN A PROPER REDEMPTION ARC FOR HER

UGH IM SUPPOSED TO HATE HER FOREVER

I mean I don't live her now but she's good

but honestly

"mom can I show you something"

IT WAS SO BEAUTIFUL

THE PICTURE AND EVERYTHING OMG

I'm sobbing please help

Gina saying she's just waiting for the right guy and then EJ coming to the airport to pick her up late at night without her asking, offering to bring her back in the morning so she won't have to Uber, bringing her a granola bar (WHICH IS EXACTLY WHAT SHE FORGOT TO PACK) and without expecting anything in return???

ms ma'am you've got a keeper right there

her smile at the end was so heartwarming I really can't.

this episode was great.

it felt really short but I liked it, great character development for Ricky, Lynne and Gina.

Cant wait for next episode to see more of EJ being the ideal boyfriend /hj

#hsmtmts #hsmtmts s2 #hsmtmts season 2 #hsmtmts spoilers #ej caswell #ricky bowen #gina porter #seblos #nini salazar roberts #jack hsmtmts #carlos rodriguez #seb mathew smith #kourtney greene #big red #ashlyn caswell #caswell cousins #portwell will be the death of me #guac's episode text blocks :)

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leviiattacks · 3 years

Text

Two Faced | Chapter Nine

↳ levi ackerman, the very person who was about to kindly behead you by a surprising turn of events manages to become your loving husband? you would be elated if this was true love, but it’s all thanks to a mysterious magic spell that your life is spared, for now at least.

pairing :: duke!levi x duchess!reader genre :: royal au ??? (at this point idek) angst, fluff, slice of life etc ?? word count :: 3.8k author note :: omg hiiii it’s been a while and today’s my birthday so i’m feeling pretty happy :-) i’ve been busy with exams and what not so this chapter would have been longer but oh well it’s still over the usual word count of 2ishk!! → next part found here !!

Instead of taking your frustration out on anyone else you take it out on your ODM gear. Anger is best used up resourcefully and you find practice goes by quicker when you imagine the look of horror Levi will have on his face when he sees just how much you've improved in recent weeks.

You sustain a number of bruises, scratches and scars the more daring you get but you take them as accolades indicating your dedication. Erwin occasionally encourages you in his office and informs you of how your commitment shows how you prioritise the safety of your people.

He's incorrect. The people of Paradis are not your people. You hold no relation or similarity to them aside from the fact you all happen to be human. Your people are the people of the Negri Republic.

You think of them every training session, tell yourself you're fortunate to be alive and if it were any other citizen of the Republic they would be working ten times as hard. They would grind their bones to dust just to prove their worth. Stepping above everyone else and working for a place in the top three.

So that's exactly what you do. You work yourself till you're sure you don't have possession of your own body, the spirits of the dead haunt you now that you've been left in the harrowing silence of lost life.

Guilt catches up to you. It nips at your skin and forms goosebumps all over your arms the one time you and the cadets happen to be allowed out to venture into town.

The people of Negri will never be able to bask in such a privilege.

Yet here you are, the only survivor of the attack, basking in that freedom .

You believe you hold no licence to deserve it.

It's another Friday, your shirt is soaked in sweat and you cringe internally as you peel it away from your skin now safe within the confines of the shower rooms.

Another lonesome night for you. Mikasa has fallen asleep long ago and you've just retired from another late night training session.

The air bites at you and you jolt jerking your hand away when the water you come into contact with is ice cold.

You should have remembered warm water is closed off after ten but it completely slipped your mind.

Sniffing at your skin you wince at the earthy scent mixed in with your perspiration.

You can't not shower but the prospect of having to endure the cold water isn't appealing in the slightest.

Fine, you'll get up early and hope to shower before breakfast when warm water is available. If you dare to become ill at this pivotal moment you're back to square one. If Levi has no use for you, you're once again as good as dead.

Groaning you unwind and restart. Pulling your undergarments back on you stare at your sodden clothing. Wearing your damp uniform just to sneak back into your dorm isn't at all appealing and you curse yourself for forgetting to bring your night gown.

No one else is awake anymore and if they are they should be all the way at the other end of the base, you're sure you'll be able to slip away into the shadows and make it to your room within two minutes.

It's a risk but you'll take it, there's no way you're wearing those clothes again. If you make it to your room you can change into your nightwear and sleep. It'll be uncomfortable due to not showering but you'll make do with it.

Pushing your head out into the hallway it's dark and you sigh in relief, your ears are attentive waiting on any sounds but when you hear nothing you assume it's safe to make a move.

But, that's where you're wrong.

One foot out into the hallway you've already been caught red handed.

"Looks like I was forced to married an oaf who just so happens to have a thing for voyeurism." The cynicism is dripping in none other than Levi Ackerman's voice but you don't shrink away despite your vulnerability.

Like a cat you can hear Levi almost silently saunter up to you from behind and the hairs on the back of your neck stand up straight.

Expecting him to berate you you're surprised when he doesn't sound as scornful as he did a few seconds prior.

"Would you like to use the shower in my quarters? The water's warm."

You'd be an idiot to reject the offer and as much as you hate the feeling of unease you feel around Levi you'll put up with it if it means you're able to rub soap against your skin and smell clean whilst you sleep.

You're standing in his shower staring at all of the varieties of body wash he has lined up against the wall. As expected of him his bathroom is meticulously spotless without any dirt in sight.

A little whine escapes your mouth when the hot water hits you for the first time. You sigh feeling satiated as well as satisfied.

Feeling a little lightheaded you rub the pleasant scent onto your skin eagerly. After a long days worth of training you feel rewarded and fulfilled just by being able to indulge in the luxury of warm water.

Suddenly your eyes shift they expand, turning from relaxed to completely appalled. Memories of your home town flood into your mind all at once, memories you don't even recall owning. Flashes of what looks to be fiery red hair, then segments of bloodcurdling screams follow in pursuit.

The soap has slipped out of your hand colliding with the floor and the rather loud noise that follows is enough to have Levi knocking on the door of the bathroom.

Hurrying to finish up you try to act as if what happened didn't just happen but to your discontent you only end up feeling more distressed.

Those aren't your memories you don't recall who they belong to. Have they perhaps been triggered by something?

Looking around the bathroom you come to find that you forgot you hadn't brought your night clothes with you,, again. Hands making their way to rest onto your forehead you groan audibly.

Again your thought process is cut off by Levi's knocking "Hey, did you pass out or something?" and with urgency you finish before he knocks the door down from impatience.

Poking your head out you avoid his gaze.

"What is it runt?" Levi's unimpressed voice asks once again reminding you of his presence.

"I forgot to bring my clothes."

A moment of silence follows your sentence and you're convinced he'll tell you to deal with the problem yourself when he tells you to return inside. But, a few minutes pass and he cracks the door open to shove one of his button ups at you alongside a pair of loose-fitting pants.

Quietly thanking him you take the clothing from him, they're good enough to cover most of the areas you'd like sheltered from prying eyes.

After you're done dressing yourself you practice your breathing in the mirror and for the most part you think you're alright until your mind drifts back to the unexplained fiery red hair.

Finally getting a hold of yourself in spite of all the unanswered questions you escape into his room and make a dash for the door hoping he's occupied elsewhere or has drifted off to sleep allowing you to flee.

"Stop."

Gritting the top and bottom row of your teeth against each other you scowl before masking it away and turning to face Levi.

"You're working hard for Paradis I see."

Meeting his eyes for the first time in a long time you're riled up, the heat in your chest rises and it finally reaches the summit when you sense you're shaking in maddening annoyance.

"I do not work hard for Paradis. I have not forgot the way you massacred my people."

He shrugs his shoulders calmly. "If you say so, and if you must know. I did not order the hit. I did my job, that is all."

He seems almost amused seeing your expression twist around trying to decipher if he is of reliability or not.

"You're a murderer. What is so humorous?" The blunt delivery of your question is sufficient enough to bring an end to Levi's fleeting grin. His face automatically drops and his brows knit together.

Levi is left stunned and speechless. For the first time in his life he doesn’t know what to say because you're correct.

Giving his regretful expression one last disappointed look you storm off. You need to sleep if there's any chance of you waking up tomorrow.

Little do you know that two pairs of eyes watch you leave Levi's quarters that night.

One of those pairs does not belong to Levi.

Training is about pace but with the pent up steaming fury that resides inside of you you're sure you can move up the ranks much earlier than you previously estimated.

Positions, rank and status are what you need to obtain for Levi's plan to happen with no disruptions, if you're no good as a soldier there's no reason to continue persevering through the scrupulous hours of hard work and exercise.

There are points at which you struggle, it's difficult moving on alone knowing that you've been left completely unaccompanied and to your own devices but you make it work. You always have.

The feeling of loneliness is something you should have long got used to within the walls of the palace but after experiencing love and affection for the first time in years it's easier said than done to let it all go.

But you do.

You have to let go of your feelings for Levi to move forward.

All the faith and hope you truly have are placed in Sasha and Mikasa. You trust them with your life and one night after training as you look into your own eyes in the fogged up mirror of the shower rooms you come to the conclusion that you do not trust Levi Ackerman with your life and if you do not trust him with your life what is there to love about him?

The incessant name calling? The relentless pestering? The persistent hot and cold behaviour?

The man who sits at the other side of the hall eating his dinner is not Lev. The look in his eyes is completely different, the way he holds cups is different so is the way they make jokes and most importantly the way they act and you've now come to terms with that. No more allowing him to push you around whenever he pleases, no more succumbing to his touch.

The only orders you'll follow are the ones which permit for you to keep your life. That is all that matters. Nothing will ever matter if you die a meaningless death.

You came to the conclusion not too long ago that forming a clear distinction between Lev and Levi would be pivotal in progressing. After the mess caused by Jean in the hallway and your rude remark it's obvious you should. For the record you do stand by what you said. Levi Ackerman is a bitter hag, but you decide it's for the better that you bottle your emotions and your ever increasing feelings of animosity. You won't allow for them to interfere with your task. You've come here to save your life and that's it.

Lazily you poke at the meat on your plate not feeling particularly hungry today, there isn't much reason to be. Most of the training you've now become used to and you no longer feel exhausted after the training sessions. Instead you feel rather accomplished, you never saw yourself as much of a fighter but you think you've finally got the hang of it now.

Your progress has come as a shock to everyone around you and the cadets who were so quick to make judgement on the first day now come to you for advice. Whenever they approach with awkward smiles you can't help but feel bitter but you never refuse to aid them because what kind of person would that make you?

You haven't realized but all you've done today at dinner is sit and repeatedly jab your chicken with your fork, you nudge it left then bump it right. Eating is the last topic of interest on your mind right now. Recently all you've been able to think about are the people of your Republic. You were never able to ask what happened to your nation, what happened to your people. Illegitimate daughter or not it was still your kingdom and you keep mulling over the possibility of asking Levi about it.

You would have asked long ago but you think he won't give you an answer. After all there is no real reason for him to tell you what he did.

"MAIL!!" Marco's yell is enough to break you out of your deep thoughts all the cadets get to their feet running up to the front and practically submerging him after he's just come dashing in with this week's packages and parcels.

Connie's the first to retrieve his package. His mother is always reminding him in her letters and parcels of how proud she is of him, how she hopes he's eating well and is healthy. Your heart tingles for him. Maternal love is a lovely blessing and you wish you had it yourself but that doesn't stop you from feeling pleased on his behalf.

Everyone receives letters from home without fail, Everyone apart from you, Reiner, Bertholdt and Annie. You've taken a keen note of that detail. The higher ups tend to never receive any mail unless it's from the military. They could have family who are dead or alive but it'll most probably remain a mystery to you. Maybe there will come a time where all the cadet's families will stop writing too. The reasons as to why may be ambiguous but you can only hope their families remain healthy despite the dangerous terrain of Paradis.

"You never get any mail why is that Y/N?" Armin one of the younger cadets pokes his head over your shoulder, his blonde hair falls over his eyes and his innocent voice is unaware of how dark the true answer to his question is.

You shrug your shoulders forcing yourself to cut some of the chicken you have yet to touch.

"Mother and Father raised me to be independent they were never the caring type." You say shoving a piece of chicken into your mouth, you can't leave the plate unmoved.

He hums in response buying the explanation but Annie clearly doesn't, she's glaring right at you as she swirls her spoon in her soup rather aggressively. She's been looking at you with increasing intensity these past few days but you don't address it. You aren't able to tell if that's her normal resting face, all you really know for certain is that her Hawk like gaze only flicks away when you make eye contact with her.

"How about you Annie you never get any- " Just as Armin begins his sentence Annie's smoldering gaze meets his and it's enough to stop him.

You and Annie most definitely aren't amicable but you know how annoying the intrusive questions can get when you have no real answer to provide people with so you choose to step in and alleviate the growing tension.

"Annie isn't one to dabble in small talk, I'm sure she'll open up with time." Annie grunts and gets to her feet, she shoots you an Armin a subterranean glare demanding you understand she isn't going to carry on being interrogated. She isn't even thankful for your intermission.

"Did I anger her?" Armin is so aware and in touch with others feelings because you honestly can't tell how she feels. Maybe she thinks she's superior to you, maybe she's frustrated like Armin suggests or maybe that's her natural demeanor.

"I'm not sure, she seems to just be this way." You won't get his hopes up high by falsifying an explanation, you'll just provide him with your honest opinion.

Bertholdt looks as if he's about to join your conversation but Reiner places a firm palm onto his shoulder before whispering a word of warning into his ear. Bertholdt indicates his agreement by looking away and making conversation with Connie who is sitting across them enthusiastically pointing at the letter his mother has sent him this time around.

Behind you Jean shuffles out of his seat he approaches your table and places a candle onto the wooden surface. "One for you." He announces, and then he places one more next to Mikasa's plate "And, one for you Mikasa."

The both of you exchange looks Mikasa is as plain faced as usual but she murmurs a thank you and both you and Jean know she isn't just saying that she does mean it she's just not that great at expressing it. You move over and give him some space to sit down with you both.

"Oh my, are these those special editions from the city square?" You rotate the candle in your hand looking at it before gently inhaling some of it. Vanilla, Jasmine and hints of coffee flood your system and you sigh dreamily.

"It's so lovely, my you didn't have to?"

"I wanted to, besides what was I to do with that many candles? Mother got over excessive and sent far too many and I know you liked that sort of stuff. I remember seeing your maid carrying some essential oils and fragrances when I met you in the city."

He's spoken a bit too much and you give him an alarmed look, it's slipped his mind to not mention he's encountered you before but much to your dismay Reiner's inquisitive ears have already heard what's been said.

"Kirstein and you, what have you got going on?" Reiner's back at it forming false conspiracy theories in his head you can tell that much just by looking at him.

You huff and shake your head, "I believe he's got me mixed up with someone else I've never even met him before arriving here."

As soon as you've spoke you've realize your mistake when Connie turns to face the both of you, his eyebrow is cocked up in confusion and he keeps his eyes on you contemplating if he should reveal what he knows.

Begging him with your eyes isn't enough because he just has to open his big mouth and join in.

"Did you and Jean not say you knew each other? I remember it, on the first day you said something like it was a small world if you ran into him again."

Reiner's amused by this all and is fascinated wondering what the reason is for you to bluff like this.

Sucking your bottom lip in not expecting this disruption during dinner you don't know how to save yourself.

"He said you have a maid, would that make you a noble? Only the rich can afford such commodities." Krista cuts in and it's only then you notice everyone crowding around you.

Everyone looking at you makes you uncomfortable and you can't formulate a sentence in your mind that can substitute as a makeshift excuse. Jean has to notice the consequences of his actions because you're playing with your hands under the table evaluating the possible outcomes as his thigh rocks back and forth shaking the floorboards with tension.

Just say the truth.

"My husband, he's a noble so I suppose yes that would make me one too."

The cadets are open mouthed in complete surprise. There are a number of reasons for why this could be the case. Firstly you're married, secondly you're a noble, thirdly as of now only two nobles that have been made known to the cadets, those two are Duke Ackerman and Viscount Kirstein they're probably speculating if the two know who your husband is.

"Someone married you of all the women in this city? And that person's a noble?" At that you don't know how to feel. The added insult to injury upsets you but you don't make it visible.

"Enough." Erwin's firm tone is enough to settle everyone down and the rumour mill stops temporarily.

Levi doesn't do as much as look at you whilst the situation plays out. He continues nonchalantly looking through some letters the military have sent over to the base. It's for the best he doesn't draw attention to himself right now.

Then everything plays out the same way it did the day those cadet's talked badly about your performance, everything plays out the same way as when you lived in your father's palace. Every one swamping you, engulfing you and you find it hard to breathe. Throat constricting your unease only heightens. Giggles and mumbles then whispers of "So she bribed her way up here?" and "Count on a noble to cheat the system."

"I saw her leave Captain Ackerman's quarters a few days back."

That's enough to push you out the room, you don't even realize what you're doing until your legs have carried you out and you can hear heavy footsteps follow after you. It's silent whilst you plot a route towards the training grounds but whoever is behind you is still following behind you loyally. You're too worn out to check in on who it is.

"Y/N, we need to discuss this." You recognize the voice to be Jean's, it's unusual that he's bothered to follow you outside.

Brows furrowed and shadows cast over your face you can't help but visibly present your emotions. Moving to take a seat on a staircase you hunch yourself forward breathing in and out shallowly, get a grip, slow your breathing. At this point both you and Jean have ventured so far into the base that there's no way anyone will be able to find you both for a while.

Normally you would burst into tears if something like this were to happen but you can't make yourself feel anything apart from simmering dissatisfaction. Whether it's directed at Jean, at yourself, at Connie, you don't really know the specifics.

You're able to harden your exterior this time, Levi is going to kill you there's no use in you being here if your identity is discovered, you've ultimately failed the one task you've been given.

"Ease yourself. Mikasa said she'd handle it I trust her, you trust her."

"We'll dig ourselves out of this mess, I assure you." Jean is droning on and slowly the sound of his voice fades away as you stare at the white wall behind him. He's explaining his viewpoint but he clearly doesn't understand you at all. Of course he isn't informed enough to understand. why you're panicked. You don't blame him.

"Just leave me alone for a second I'd like to think without anyone else present."

Jean sighs deeply but respects your request. He walks away from you although he clearly doesn't wish to do so.

#levi #levi ackerman #leviiattacks #aot #snk #attack on titan levi #attack on titan x reader #attack on titan #levi x reader #levi x y/n #aot fanfiction #aot headcanons #duke levi #levi smut #levi fluff #levi angst #levi fanfiction

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littlemisslipbalm · 4 years

Text

Little Border Town Pt. 3

Summary: It begins with a man and a woman, as it always seems to. One lives in France and the other lives in Italy, technically, but they’re also neighbors. Various issues arise between these two and they can’t ever seem to see eye to eye on anything. Will they ever move past their petty fighting or is the little town they live in doomed to only gossip about what Harry and Y/N are fighting about today?

Part 3: the one with the boat and the beginning of a storm

IT’S BEEN AGESSSS I AM SO SO SORRY I LOVE YALL SO MUCH AND EVERYONE WHO HAS EVER READ THIS THANK YOU FOR BEING PATIENT

also harry is wearing this fit in this part just no tie?? i think i cant remember

college has been incredibly crazy this year already and i just dont have time to write like i did before i went back. i honestly had this mostly finished and i havent reread so i have no idea what even happens so lmk what you think, i can’t imagine that it will get a lot of notes but if it did id be very happy about that - anyways lots of love and feedback appreciated as always...pls enjoy

Word Count: 6.6k | Warnings: ?? Swearing? idek, more yearning bc slow burn

Catch up here! part 1 | 2 |

“Isn’t the weather not ideal for boat sailing today,” she ponders as her face looks up at the sky. She’s walking into Harry’s store again after running back to her place to grab a jacket and lock up. She placed a notecard in the door’s window that says “closed today, see you tomorrow” with a smiling face as punctuation.

Harry grins, bouncing on the balls of his feet. He had sailing boots on his feet with a smart big-collared printed shirt and marigold trousers. Instead of a belt, he had suspenders that matched the color of his pants and a pearl necklace as his final accessory other than his rings. He must have repainted his nails this morning because they were a light lavender shade that hadn’t been noticeable last night.

“It’s just fine. We’re entering fall and the sun is out today!” He gestures to the sky above them and she nods in agreement that the sun is indeed out. However she wasn’t sure if she’d categorize it as a nice day to go out on the sea still. With the sun there were also many clouds, they were mostly white and fluffy, but she was sure they could turn sinister any moment.

“Ready?” He beams.

“As I’ll ever be.”

On the boat, Y/N felt her stomach churning. Was she giddy or unnerved? Likely, both.

Harry was tying the boat off the dock after helping her onto the deck. It wasn’t a huge boat, not a yacht or anything, but it also wasn’t a tiny sailboat. It had an upper deck where maybe four people - at most - could comfortably be. Then a lower deck, inside a hatch in the upper deck. She couldn’t discern how much space was down there, but she was sure Harry would show her. He was talking through everything he was doing on the boat. Ad nauseum for an extremely nontechnical girl, such as herself.

Still, she sat in the spot he had directed her to next to the closed hatch and watched him move gracefully around the boat. Maneuvering the sails and different parts of the boat was a dance for Harry. Each step, each twist and knot, moved by a song unknown to her. It was beautiful. He was completely in his element, surprisingly. Again, Harry surprised her. She knew he had a boat, but whenever she thought of a jerk with a boat she didn’t think of what she was seeing with her own eyes. It was beautiful - or at least, it would be, if he’d shut his big mouth that was now making her roll her eyes as he made a pun about boats.

“So,” Harry starts finally, finishing up whatever he needed to do to get the boat off the dock and on the path he wanted. They were moving out into open water, she could see the little town, but it was growing smaller by the minute. Her stomach churned again as she looked up at the man she had just trusted to take her out onto the ocean. She grimaced slightly at the thought.

“Do you want to see the inside?” he continued.

She nods eagerly, “Finally!”

He chuckles lightly before opening up the hatch and gesturing for her to go first. She looks at him hesitantly.

“This isn’t a trap right? It’s not going to be all...murder-y down there?” Her voice is pitched higher, she’s almost completely serious.

This time Harry’s laugh comes from his belly, almost doubling over at the word ‘murder-y’. Between laughs, he tries to reassure her. “God no...oh my god.” More laughter, then a deep breath. “The only evil entity on this boat is the diavola I invited on here,” he gestures to her standing in front of him and her eyes narrow. Displeasure washing over her features.

“You’re ridiculous,” her hand swats at his sternum before she turns from him and climbs down to the underdeck area.

When she’s down, she’s surprised with her surroundings and she doesn’t notice Harry follow quickly behind her. It’s neat and stylish. Well, she’s not completely surprised, Harry was very fashionable. But the neatness dissipated all thoughts of the improbable scenario where Harry had lured her on his boat to murder her. It was what she had been freaking out over when she had at first refused to enter.

There was a small daybed at the end of the hall that doubled as a couch, a door to a bathroom, a dining area, a kitchenette, and then the random area they were standing in. It wasn’t super spacious, it was a hallway with things around it, but it was clean and it smelled nice. Everything had a place and they were neatly put in their places. After a moment, she turned at the feeling of Harry’s presence behind her.

He grinned, scanning the areas her eyes had just taken in for the first time. His green eyes were filled with admiration. “Do you like it?”

“Yeah, smells like you.” She nods matter of factly.

“Huh?” His head whips to her, sure he hadn’t heard her right.

“The whole place is very you,” she looks away from him and walks down the hall to the daybed and takes a seat, “Styles-ish.”

He follows quickly behind, shaking his head out of his own thoughts.

He mumbles a thanks, not catching the play on words she’d used with his last name. She smiles to herself, pleased. He stands in the doorway, not really wanting to sit beside her. Maybe he didn’t trust himself with being in such close proximity with her anymore. No, not after last night.

Her eyes widen slightly when he leans against the doorway and crosses his arms. The sleeves of his button-up had been rolled up when he had been working with the sails. Her lips suddenly are dry and she wets them with her tongue, eyes moving to the fabric of the blanket she’s sat on top of.

“I meant to say,” Harry breaks the silence, obviously not a fan of the quiet. A hand leaves his pose and runs through his hair, rings classically tugging at his curls. He swallows before he speaks again, “Thanks, uh, for stopping me last night. That would’ve been weird…”

He trails off and her eyes go wide again, but now they’re trained on his face. His eyes are downcast now, watching the way light plays off his rings. She tries to make out the sound in his voice, the expression he’s trying to hide with indifference. Her teeth tug her bottom lip into her mouth as she thinks, silence once again taking hold of the small, small room. The air is tense, static, unmoving, the complete opposite of the water that rushes just outside the walls of the boat.

She clears her throat and Harry locks eyes with her, “No problem...alcohol and atmosphere, clouds the head. I get it.” She did, but she also hadn’t wanted the gratitude Harry had just placed on her.

“You booze, you lose,” he smiles, straightening up and she looks at him quizzically.

“That’s such an odd phrase.”

“No it’s not!”

“It’s a play on ‘you snooze, you lose’ right?” She leans forward, face looking smugly up at Harry’s offended face.

“Well, yeah,” Harry admits.

“I can’t believe you made that up and got it tattooed,” She states breezily and then stands. She brushes past him to look around the rest of the cabin.

Harry scoffs, not even noticing the way her fingers had brushed over his naked forearm as she passed, too focussed on his indignation. “How’d you know about the tattoo?”

“Naked neighbor? Never closing his shade? Do you seriously need a refresher course already? Seriously, boat boy, I really thought you were smarter than that,” She talks as she snoops around the different parts of the cabin. She pokes at figurines and looks at little photos and paintings. Her head looks over her shoulder and she laughs happily at Harry’s face of irritation. It was so easy to push his buttons.

“Don’t call me boat boy,” he seethes, but she knows he’s not really mad. More like he’s a child who got told no dessert before dinner. A laugh rocks through her body again and bubbles to the surface. It causes Harry to soften, this time there’s no alcohol in his system to account for the feeling he just felt. He mirrors the smile she has. That is until she reaches the kitchenette and finds a rack of CDs sitting beside the sink.

She turns from him and begins to leaf through them, most of them are artists she recognizes. But then she reaches some that are just titled “Demo” with various numbers beside the word. Her fingers nimbly pick out “Demo #1” and turn back to Harry with an inquisitive gaze. His green eyes are bigger than usual, the smile gone from his face.

“These from the boy band days?” She smiles wider as he turns a little red. She crosses closer to him, remembering the sight of a cd player in the main area where the entrance to the cabin was.

“Erm..no.” She flips around again, confused again, but then it dawns on her. “Demos for my solo work.”

“That you put on hold to take over for your Uncle.”

“Great Uncle.” He corrects.

“I know.” She waited a second, where she was about to be quick to play the CD, she now wanted to get Harry’s permission. It might be a little more personal than she had first thought. “Can we listen to this one? You’d technically be taking me up on the request to play for me sometime.”

“Yeah, they’re rough - obviously. So if you could try to not bruise my ego, at least not more than you usually do,” he grins and she looks at him with dead eyes. A smile cracks on her face quickly, still.

“I wouldn’t...this is different,” she struggles to find the right words. She would never make fun of something he cared a lot about, not now. She wasn’t that person, it was odd to think he maybe saw her like that. She shook away the thought and focused on placing the CD in its player correctly.

The first song begins to play, he’s right it is rough, it’s a demo. There’s no backing vocals or beat of any kind. Just a voice and a guitar. And it’s amazing. After the guitar intro, she lets out a breath she had been holding when she hears the voice. His voice. It’s beautiful. And she’s shocked, her eyes flash to Harry. He’s nibbling at his bottom lip, watching her hear it for the first time. His voice from all those years ago.

“Brooklyn saw me empty at the news, there’s no water inside this swimming pool.”

Her eyes light up again at the lyrics and she smiles, finding it melancholic yet slightly funny at the same time. It was interesting, the words, his voice, the meaning. Some bits of information eluded her, but she knew she enjoyed the song.

“And I’ve been praying, I never did before.”

Even as the song moved on from this one lyric, she felt it replaying in her head as she watched the singer in front of her. Years older than he had been when he had written this song. She was filled with questions and paused the CD as the guitar faded out.

“That’s it?” Harry laughs, “Just one song? It was really that horrible?”

“Oh my god, no!” She is emphatic, needing Harry to understand she’s serious. She takes a step closer to his figure. He had traveled closer to her while the song had played. They were almost chest to chest and her hand goes out to touch his forearm. “I really liked it, genuinely. I just needed a moment before the next one.”

“Bracing yourself?”

“Stop, I’m serious. It was beautiful. Your voice is wonderful, Harry.”

His eyes sparkle at the praise, finally believing she’s not taking the piss. Then his eyes dropped from her gaze, “I was a lot younger then, was 21 I think when I recorded this demo.”

“So? A voice like that doesn’t just disappear, dude.” She looks at him with a finality in her expression before dropping the hand that was firmly gripping his tattooed arm and turning back to the CD player.

Harry bites his lip as another one of his early songs plays over the shoddy speakers. His voice repeats “Meet me in the hallway” over the solo guitar. There’s no echo or bass, no count in like the final song was supposed to have. It’s just him and his guitar, before he chose to leave it all behind.

His voice is sadder here, she notices and she visibly winces at “just take the pain away” and “just let me know, I’ll be on the floor” and his repetition of “gotta get better.”

How did this man, who seemed fazed by practically nothing, have so much hurt in him to write both of these songs? Her eyes welled with water, but she blinked them back still staring at the singer before her. He was watching the CD spin in the player as his voice came through the speakers. He was lost in thought, in memory. Maybe she was lucky, these weren’t memories for her, she was only hearing his interpretation of his life. She hadn’t had to live that pain first hand. This time she doesn’t pause before the next song.

The next one seems more produced than the last two. This one starts with drums, a step up from the last two acoustic demos in respect to production. A big crash and then a wailing guitar and an accompanying voice. His voice is stronger here, more sure of himself. And then it changes again, melancholic once again and her heart strings are yanked at again.

“We’re not who we used to be, we’re just two ghosts standing in the place of you and me, trying to remember how it feels to have a heartbeat.”

The guitar continues that sad tone for a riff and then goes back to strumming beneath his voice. She shifts her eyes to him again and sighs softly, it weighs heavy on her soul that the man next to her has seemingly been through so much heartache. He looks up at “We don’t see what we used to see” and she holds his gaze, brows knit together in confusion and sadness. She pauses this time, finger reaching out without looking.

“This is depressing, please tell me they’re not all sad songs or I might as well have turned on a pet rescue commercial.”

His smile etches on his face, in a small knowing smirk and he crosses into her personal space. She’s about to step back, but he reaches out and softly bats her finger away from the pause/play button. She smiles back, shuffling to lean against the counter beside him. It was unusual for them to be on the same side of the counter, much like last night at the bar.

“There’s six songs on this demo. Three sad, three…” he trails off, looking at her expectantly. She nods. “You gotta learn to be a little less impatient, hmm?”

“Not impatient, just trying to brace myself for more sadness. I thought I had been promised a day of fun,” she grumbles.

“I wasn’t the one who suggested a demo listening party,” his brows raise and she twists her mouth to the side at his smug response.

“True,” she finally concedes with a murmur.

He presses play and a new song comes on that is more upbeat than any of the other’s that have played so far. It also seems to be a bit more produced than the first two. Her hand rests on the countertop and begins to tap, she quirks her brow at the first lyric “she’s got a family in carolina, so far away, but she says I remind her of home.” A girl who likened Harry Styles to the South of the United States, interesting. As she listens to the lyrics, she smirks at the massive crush he must have had to write this song. The “good girl” lyrics bounce around in her mind and her mind drifts back to last night. Would it have felt good? To kiss Harry?

Then, she’s brought out of her reverie with “I met her once and wrote a song about her”. Her eyes widen and look to Harry again inquisitively as his past self muses over how good this girl felt. He wrote about a one night stand? That woman must have been magic. That was all she had to say about that.

“Really?” She asks incredulously, folding her arms over her chest. His gaze flickers at the movement, human nature. He presses pause.

“What?”

“A one night stand earned that?”

He looked at her seriously, like the answer was obvious. She laughs before continuing.

“You’re a simp.”

“I’m sorry?” He sputters at her statement immediately.

She raises her brows as a response now. Nothing else to say.

“She wasn’t a one night stand,” he defends, “She was a blind date...and it had been after a dry spell.”

She starts to laugh, about to give another snarky response, but he adds, “And I was twenty-one.” The numbers specifically enunciated.

“You’re still a simp in my book...but I liked the song. It was catchy, rock vibes in there. I don’t know about her telling you remind her of Carolina - north or south, I don’t see it.”

He eyes her warily, still not happy with her titling him that gen z term that was super popular all over the internet. He took her in and he knew she was only three years younger than him, he was pretty sure, yet she used ‘simp’ and ‘vibes’ like they were lexicon words. He didn’t hate it, it was just different than what he usually heard in the little border town. Italian not having translations for things like that, English was so interesting, internet language was so interesting.

“I-” He starts and stops. “She said it. Was she right? That’s not my place to judge.”

“I don’t know,” Y/N pressed, words dragging out playfully, “Personally, I wouldn’t want to be a reminder of the U.S. South, but okay...simp.”

“I swear to god if you call me that one more time, I’m throwing you overboard and I won’t feel bad about it.”

Her eyes widen and then she smiles, he cracks a smile too. They huddle back around the CD player, ready for the next song. It starts with a strong guitar and drums, again well produced compared to the acoustic earlier ones.

His voice in this is far more shaky, unsure of himself again. “Let me take my medicine, take my medicine, treat you like a gentleman,” comes through the speakers. She shivers and looks at him, her fingers tapping along to the beat. The instruments are strong where his voice is soft, it doesn’t exactly fit, but she likes the lyrics still. When it gets to the pre-chorus, that’s when she knows she loves the song.

“I had a few got drunk on you and now I’m wasted, and when I sleep I’m gonna dream of how you (tasted)”

When his voice pitches high for ‘wasted’ she loses it. Her body moves with the instruments and her eyes close and her head wiggles. Harry smiles happily as she dances for the first time to one of his songs. The last word must have been shouted by his bandmates, because she doesn’t hear him say it.

Then the chorus hits and she wonders how it got even better. Her eyes shoot open and she just stares at Harry, her jaw slightly dropped.

“If you got out tonight, I’m going out tonight cause I know you’re persuasive! You got that something and I got me an appetite now I can taste it”

His past self sings of getting dizzy and his voice moans into the mic the demo was recorded on. She’s blown away. It sounds so hot, his voice gaining confidence during the pre-chorus and the chorus to have an all around rockstar sound.

The present Harry just taps his rings together as he watches her, studying her reaction with an even-tempered expression. Why isn’t he screaming like she is on the inside? When it gets to the second verse she’s bracing herself for what’s to come. This song has her pulse racing and blood flowing wildly around her body. She’s buzzing from it.

“The boys and the girls are in, I mess around with him and I’m okay with it”

The electric guitar follows the line up and she thinks she’s going to pass out on this boat right now. Flamboyant Harry. Was this what Marie had been talking about. The wild side of Harry she really had never seen, embodied in one song. She wanted more of it. Still all she got was the Harry on the demo rocking out to his song. She can hear him smiling through the recording, the sad boy from a few songs ago was now feeling euphoric. She just wanted to dance the night away with him.

Then another pre-chorus: “I’m coming down, I figured out I kinda like it, and when I sleep I’m gonna dream of how you (ride it)”

His voice goes high again for ‘like it’ this time and her question of what is to follow is quickly answered with the bandmates screaming ‘ride it’ into the mics they must have had. It’s punctuated with the drums and other instruments. A noise escapes the back of her throat and Harry looks at her both smugly and amused. She rolls her eyes in response, trying to convince Harry that she hadn’t just had images of him singing about how good someone rides him flash in her mind. Even more so with the images of someone, namely her, being the object of his dreams. Doing the things he said he’d dream of. That, that was definitely not what she was thinking about. Definitely not. Her throat was dry and she swallowed hard. Harry’s eyes never left her face. Watching every reaction, gauging it and storing the information elsewhere for the time being.

She sings along to the chorus, trying to focus on the song, it was easy to pick up, but then the damn moans. And then there’s a guitar solo that sounds like sex itself and she’s baffled that this was an unreleased demo, not a famous rock song. Harry in front of her can’t stop himself from tapping his feet at this part, a little dance forming on his body as his eyes finally leave her figure. They close as he feels the music, the memory of his friend playing the riff clear in his mind and how much he had loved it. It builds up again and then there’s a final chorus. She watches him now as he dances in the confined space. His mouth opens to sing along to the “la la la’s”

It ends and goes straight into another upbeat song. It seemed like a complimentary song to the one that had just played.

“I don’t want your sympathy, but you don’t know what you do to me, oh Anna!”

His voice sings strong again. Harry before her composed himself again, going back to his watching position. He took in her tapping and smiling to the song. He also mouths the words slightly as it plays, the lyrics clear as the day he finished writing them almost 4 years ago. One of the final ones for this demo.

“Hope you never hear this and know that it’s for you, don’t know what I’d tell you if you asked me for the truth”

She smirks at him, now, with the earnest lyrics, about to say something, but then notices the change in the guitar. It switches from the epic riff that was going to a more familiar tune, “Faith” by George Michael. She looks at him, a cheesy grin on her face as the voice begins to sing the chorus of that song. Her body begins to dance to it, like an old man doing the twist. She’s not ashamed and Harry loves it and joins her by mirroring the movements.

When the song comes to an end, they’re one large giggling mess. She falls into his arms and he holds her steady, their laughter coming out with freedom.

“Thanks for making me be patient,” She looks up at him, “it was worth it!”

He smiles, backing up slightly, “It’s like I knew what I was talking about.”

“Ok smart guy,” she teases with a silly voice. “I’m assuming whoever Anna is, isn’t actually named Anna then...?”

Harry hums and makes a twitch of his brows, but doesn’t respond. Instead he grabs her hand and she squeaks slightly, he pulls her to the ladder and prompts her to go up. She obliges silently and lands back on the top of the boat now. She looks out and sees the little town to be off in the distances now, shining blue water all around the creamy white boat.

Harry stands behind her now and shuts the hatch easily. She looks at him warily, confused by his silence. He extends his hand to her this time and she takes it. He leads her to the front of his boat. They’re moving, but so slowly you’d barely notice. There’s a loveseat of sorts right at the front and Harry sets her down in it. She smiles at him with caution, still bewildered. He leans against a part of the boat that stands in front of the seat.

“It’s beautiful, right?” He asks.

Her eyes have been looking around her, but they’ve mostly been trained on Harry. She was mesmerized by him now. His music, his boat, his clothes, his everything. She was seeing him in a new light. In a completely brand new way that had her unable to take her eyes off of him.

She nods finally when Harry looks at her expectantly. “It’s amazing,” she breathes.

His smile is the half-sided grin again. Beautiful big teeth on display with a little part of space between them. His dimple pops out and once again her eyes are on his face. She realized going on this boat with Harry might not have been such a good idea.

He folds his arms, her eyes flicker down. Every movement he makes, she doesn’t want to miss it. Even if she also is telling her mind to shake it off, she can’t. It’s like a spell.

“Obviously Anna is a pseudonym,” he says finally, eyes watching where the boat was taking him. She nods in approval. He pauses, watching the little waves, but she knows he has more to say.

“What did you think of the rest of it?” He asks quietly, gaze never going back to her. He knew she’d teased him a little and had danced along to some. She’d looked at him with wide eyes at some lyrics, but he wanted to know what she really thought.

She can tell he’s nervous, but she doesn’t understand why. They were all very good songs, his voice was beautiful, the lyrics were interesting. She didn’t understand his lack of confidence. His first time not exhibiting his usual self-assured - self-absorbed, even - personality. She bites her lip in confusion and his brows knit together, further showing his apprehension. The wrinkles in his forehead show up more prominently and she’s reminded that Harry is 26. He’s a different person now then he was back when he recorded that demo. Maybe there was a reason he kept them on the boat. She felt unsure in her response now.

“They were all great, Harry.” His face softens immediately. “Each one was beautifully written and sung. The ones that were acoustic sounded wonderful as did the ones with your whole band. I’m honored to be someone who got to hear those masterpieces.”

She wanted to tell them they should be famous songs, but she had a feeling that might not have the effect on him that she wanted. He had chosen a little quiet life in the little border town. She didn’t think he would want to hear how his music could have made it big time.

“Thank you,” he murmurs, just about the sounds of the sea. He lets a closed mouth smile twist onto his face, but it feels like he doesn’t fully believe her. She wants to kiss his worry away, but again, she knows it’s not possible. His words from earlier rang in her head. It would make things weird. Yeah, you’re right. Ugh, why had she agreed. She didn’t agree, not at all, not anymore.

“Did you have a favorite?” He stands up straighter with his question.

She laughs slightly, “I liked the second to last one a lot. It was hot.”

“Hot how?” He steps closer, smirking.

She jumps up from her reclined seat, in indignation, “Oh come on, you know it’s hot. Now you’re just looking for me to stroke your ego! It’s obviously about sex.”

“And? You’re the one who’s saying it’s your favorite and blushing.” He arches a brow at her, arms going to his hips and looking at her teasingly.

“Well, you’re the one who was singing about sucking dick and dreaming of how someone rode you.”

“Is that what it’s about?” His voice raises as he purses his lips and raises both of his brows.

She realizes just how worked up he’s gotten her in such a short amount of time. She huffs and turns away from him with a flick of her hand. “You’re infuriating.” Is all she can say. She looks out at the waves now, ignoring Harry even though he’s less than a foot away.

He’s laughing behind her for a little. Then when she doesn’t turn around, he quiets and she’s not quite sure where he’s gone. Then his breath fans over her neck and right shoulder, where her jacket hasn’t managed to cover her. It’s warm and a little minty as the scent travels over the salty sea air. She doesn’t turn or move a muscle for that matter.

A hand reaches out to her shoulder, but still she makes no move to turn. It rests there for a minute and she simply huffs again, letting her shoulders rise and fall dramatically. A single laugh slips from Harry’s mouth.

“C’mon diavola, don’t be like that. S’all in good fun.” His voice is low in her ear, sultry even. It reminds her of his voice in that song once he got into it. His voice sounds like sex in her ear and this time when she sighs it’s not because she’s irritated with him. No, she wants him. The sigh has an undercurrent of that desire and she hopes Harry doesn’t understand that. But otherwise she stays quiet, letting him murmur into her ear with his hand on her shoulder and his chest pressed to her back now. The only witness of this exchange is the ocean before them.

His head leans closer and if she didn’t know any better it felt like he was about to press a kiss to her neck. Instead all she feels is the brush of his mustache, it tickles the shell of her ear and she can’t keep in the giggle. She twists away from the sensation and Harry is grinning at her when she faces him.

His hand still on her shoulder and his body still pressed close to hers. He’s so warm and so close and so shiny new in her eyes, even if he still manages to irritate her. Her eyes flicker up to his as their laughter quiets down. She realizes her own hands have gone to his waist to steady herself and she follows his feet as he backs them up from the edge of the boat that she had brought them too.

It’s quiet again. They’re staring at each other intently. Her eyes are swirling with emotion because she just wants to know what’s going on in the brain of the man before her. She wants to know everything about him, but she knows that’s not how he feels about her. Sure, they’re friends now, but nothing else.

Why did she have to come on this stupid boat and find his stupid amazing music? Why did he have such a stupid amazing face?

These questions and other silly things were racing around her head as she gripped his waist. He didn’t mind her quietness, he found her gaze to be a little unnerving, but he was just glad he had made her laugh. He found that he didn’t enjoy her anger at him as much anymore.

Just as he was about to start another conversation, there was a cloud that drifted over the shining sun. It was her original fear come to life. Harry’s brows furrowed as he looked up at the clouds. They were turning grey. Fast.

“Shit, shit, shit,” He began mumbling and released his hand from her shoulder. He pulled away from her hold and began moving swiftly around the boat. He needed to get them off the water, there was a storm coming.

Her eyes went wide as she noticed the approaching storm as well. Her brows furrowed with worry as she watched Harry begin working on the boat, his only words being curses to himself at first.

Then he enlists her help, asking her to hold onto a specific part of the boat for him after he threw her a life vest and made her put it on. She wore it with great dissatisfaction. He only shrugged as he continued to move nimbly around the boat, turning them around, back to the dock.

The boat moved much swifter into the shore than it had on their way out. The waves were growing choppier by the minute and she would admit she was more than a little scared. Thankfully, Harry knew what he was doing and got them there quickly and safely. Once at the dock, he tied them there and then helped her off the boat. She stood on the dock uncomfortably as the rain started to come down.

“Give me your lifevest!” He gestures from the boat.

She quickly takes it off and flinches when the first bout of thunder sounds from far off. He takes it from her and throws it haphazardly down the hatch along with his own before jumping off the boat himself. He surveys the boat from the dock to make sure he hasn’t forgotten anything. Then he looks at her. She’s wrapped her arms around herself and is ducking her head, looking like she’s attempting to ward off rain but failing miserably.

She looks up at him and he offers a soft smile of reassurance.

“Take my hand!” He shouts slightly over the growing sound of rain and thunder. He wants to get them out of the rain, but he’s also apprehensive to leave his boat to the mercy of the weather. Still, that’s all he can do.

She puts her hand in his and his fingers weave with hers. Then, they’re off racing back to their street in the little border town.

“I should go back to my place!”

“Don’t be silly! France is much too far for you to go in this weather!”

She laughs and grips his hand tighter as he fumbles for his key. His wet hand slipping as the rain droplets soak their clothes and skin. Even though her door is a mere few feet away she allows Harry to pull her into his shop. The warmth and dryness appreciated after running a few blocks in the now torrential downpour. There weren’t storms often in the little border town, but like the old adage said ‘when it rained, it poured’ quite literally. The less she had to travel in the rain the happier she was, even if it was three measly feet.

It also occurred to her that she’d be able to sit out her first storm with someone by her side. And she would admit that didn’t sound like the worst thing in the world. She wasn’t necessarily a fan of storms and being in a new place with a storm she’d never weathered before was daunting. Harry inviting her in was a blessing. She didn’t have to be asked twice.

Once inside the little shop, their wet frames begin to form puddles beneath themselves. Harry sighs and takes off up his rickety stairs. She looks after him in confusion but stays put when he calls a quick “Wait there!”

She shakes a bit of the rain from her and shivers as she listens for Harry’s movements barely audible above the crashing of the rain water. When he returns, her breath catches in her throat, like she just choked on something, yet there’s nothing.

As he walks down the steps, far slower now, his wet hair shakes out around his head forming some ethereal halo. The light from upstairs illuminates him and the darkness outside casts an ominous darkness as he descends.

“Un ange…” She whispers after finally catching her breath.

If he hears her, it doesn’t matter. He’s already beginning to smile widely just from seeing Y/N before him.

He skips the last step and crosses to her swiftly. “Let’s get you dried a little more,” he begins to dote. A matching smile spreads on Y/N’s face out of appreciation. She still can’t manage to fend off the shivering and Harry’s smile falters. His hands leave the towel and trace her exposed skin. Her cheek feels like ice, only slightly warming under his touch.

“You need dry clothes,” he mumbles.

Her eyes widen as she looks up at him. He’s so close and so attentive and she wants to ask him to kiss her because they’ve been going back and forth all day, but he’s right she’s freezing. His eyes are so intense though she can’t even maintain eye contact. Instead her gaze flits up to the droplet beginning to swell down one of his rogue strands of hair that flopped over his forehead moments ago.

She doesn’t respond as she watches and Harry begins to worry more. Her eyes seemingly unfocused, her shivering, and her silence. He thumbs over the apple of her cheekbone and finally breaks her reverie. The droplet splashing between them without her as its audience.

“C’mon,” he tugs her hand now to bring her upstairs.

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