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#that's just what i think anyway and i'm not even one of the people on here who hands out grace blindly
reiderwriter · 21 hours
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🔐 Password Protected 🔐
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Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader
For the CM Kink Bingo Challenge 2024
Requested: "Hii Kacie, may I put in a request of a NSFW prompt? Any plotline or back story is fine I trust your talent :"> Reader's boobs/asscheeks recoill during sex turning Spencer on even more "I wish you could have my view right now" he grabs the phone to open the camera app."
Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, DubCon Hidden camera, dry humping, free use, soft to hard Dom!Spencer, sub! Reader, creampie, unprotected sex, slight breeding kink, implied oral sex, implied bondage, implied somno, pictures/ photos, degradation (slut, whore etc,) and pet names (Princess, sir, angel etc,), nipple play/torture, multiple orgasms.
A/N: Here's my second fic for the CM Kink Bingo 2024~♡ I'm definitely all over the board now, so who knows if I'I hit bingo this year, Imao? Anyways, I hope you enjoy~ And to my dear friend :"^ anon - thank you for your inspiring request.
Masterlist || Bingo Board
With a glorious lull in cases to close over the summer, the biggest mystery in the BAU was “What's in the locked folder on Spencer's phone?” 
The man had made the (technologically inept) mistake of leaving his new phone unlocked on his desk in a bullpen full of criminal profilers. To say you'd all descended like vultures to a fresh carcass was putting it extremely lightly.
“What apps does he have? Five dollars says there's a dictionary app,” Emily joked, leaning over Morgan's shoulder to try and catch a glimpse of the screen. You were similarly perched at his other shoulder. 
“He can probably recite the dictionary himself, and I don't think he'd know how to download apps,” you scoffed, scrolling up in the phone yourself to the app page. 
“There's got to be something good in the camera roll, right?” Morgan said, clicking into it to find some dirt on the much too innocent Spencer Reid. Which is where you'd found quaint pictures of the sky, some pages from a book and the folder. 
The one with a little lock on it signalling the boundary. Spencer had figured out how to use a locked folder - you'd be impressed if you weren't so curious about what was inside. 
“Placing bets, people? My money is on work documents,” Morgan chuckled, losing interest swiftly in the phone and pressing it into your hands. “It's not like the kid has a lot going on romantically, right?”
You kept your mouth shut as the others nodded in agreement. While Spencer Reid may not have anything romantic going on officially, he definitely had something sexual going on. You'd been in his bed five of the last six days, losing count on the amount of times he'd fucked you into oblivion, using your body as freely as he wished, cumming inside of you to finish before washing off all traces of your coupling and cuddling upto you as you slept. 
It wasn't quite a relationship, but dear god, did you never want it to end. You hadn't been so satisfied, so fulfilled (emphasis on the filled) in a long time. 
“What are you doing with my phone?” You heard Spencer question from behind you, and you turned, trying to mask your embarrassment. You really didn't want him to think you were some obsessive not-girlfriend going through his messages, and almost dropped the phone like it was a bomb when your eyes met his. 
“We were just debating what you could possibly have to hide in your gallery’s locked folder,” Emily laughed, clapping the man on the back and smiling up at him. “Help me win $20 and tell Morgan here that you made it accidentally and don't know the password.” 
“Hey, I didn't agree to any bet yet,” Morgan laughed, kicking his feet up on his desk. 
“Only because you know you're wrong.” 
They bickered just long enough to let Spencer take a step closer to you, slipping the phone easily out of your hand and back into his pocket. His voice was low, his mouth close to his ear when he finally sated your curiosity. 
“I think you may want to distract them from this topic, Y/N. I don't think you'll like it if they demand to see what kind of pictures and…videos I have in that folder.” 
His tone wasn't suggestive, but it still lit a fire in your belly with the implication alone. You'd warmed his bed for long enough to know that you were the only one sharing it, but you didn't remember him taking any pictures or videos of you. Shit, had you been so desperate that you'd completely blanked him capturing a folders worth of images of you servicing his cock? 
You took the hunt and stepped away from him, picking up a file quickly and glancing over it before turning to Emily. Distracting them with work was the only way to keep them off the scent and distract you must.
Even if it did mean you were inconvenienced with curiosity and lust for the rest of the day. 
When you finally finished work, you practically hammered down Spencer's door, trying to get answers to questions he'd left hung in the air earlier. You were a visual learner, so you dearly hoped he'd answer by simply just showing you what you'd missed. 
“Y/N,” he said, opening the door with a sweet smile, drawing you into the apartment with a slow, honeyed kiss. You felt him smile into you, his touch chaste enough around your arms to still your beating heart. You languished in the kiss as he pulled you on closer, shutting the door behind you as he opened you up to him, pulling you further under his spell than usual. 
“I'm so happy to see you,” he said once he'd pulled away, feathering his touch across your waist, settling his hands in the crook just under your breasts, stroking the bottom of them with his thumbs. You were suddenly glad the man's hands were so large, sure that this one interaction was heaven on earth. 
He almost distracted you from your purpose for coming here. 
Pulling you to the sofa in his living room, Spencer pushed back a strand of hair, hooking it behind your ear as he let you straddle him  wrapping your arms around his neck, your head falling comfortably onto his shoulder as you inhaled his scent. 
“I'm not complaining that you're here, or anything, Y/N,” he said, hands roaming your body and stroking your ass as he spoke. “But did you have something to say? You didn't message before coming.” 
You lifted your head to look him in the eyes before looking away out of embarrassment. 
“Earlier, you…” you started, tongue going dry as he tightened his grip on your ass. He shifted slightly under you and you realized he was grinding his leg up into your clothed pussy as you spoke. 
“Yes?” 
“Your phone…the locked folder, I want to see what's inside.” 
You were sure that he knew already what you wanted before you'd even arrived, but he just smiled at you again, almost too kindly. 
“That's my private business, Y/N. Why should I let you see it?” He asked, looking good a finger under your jaw to make you look him in the eye once more. 
“I th-think… I think there are videos. Of me. I'd like to see them.” 
“Where are your manners?” 
“Please, sir,” you whispered, tipping your head forward, begging him for a kiss. “Please show me the videos.” 
He huffed out a quick laugh and gave you one last peck on the lips before he pushed you off. You sat on the floor between his legs, a position you were so used to being in by now that you wouldn't be surprised to find multiple shots of you sat like this, lips wrapped around his cock, pussy grinding on his shoes. Even the thought of such pictures had you wanting to recreate those memories, you weren't sure what a folder worth is going to do. 
Stretching over to his coffee table, Spencer picked up the discarded phone and unlocked it, flipping through some pages before looking down at you again. 
Stroking your hair, Spencer neatly arranged it before wrapping the same hand he'd been using g around your neck and pulling you gently upwards. You landed back in his lap, but he'd turned you around this time. Instead of straddling him, your back was pressed to his chest, your legs on either side of one of his. He released your neck, instead pushing his hands between your thighs so you couldn't push them together for relief - he already knew your body so well. 
“Is this what you're curious about, Y/N?” He said, finally flashing you the phone screen. The first picture was obviously taken post-sex, and you recognised his bed sheets quickly. Your face hung off the end of his bed, eyes shut as his cum painted your lips, cheeks and eyes, lips parted in a lusty moan. From the angle it was taken at, you could see your breasts swell and your hand disappear between your legs as well, stroking yourself to release.
“Shit,” you moaned, pussy clenching on nothing as it begged for relief. With a hand on your hip, Spencer started encouraging you to rock back and forward, humping his leg as he whispered in your ear. 
“You didn't know about that one because your eyes were covered in my cum. It turned me on more knowing you had no clue I was going to jack off to it later as well.” 
He scrolled to the next image, and in this one too, you seemed unaware of the camera. Your hands were tied to the headboard, and he was fucking you from behind, the shot capturing his creamy dick pulling out of you and the discarded condom on the bed beside you. 
“That was the day we learned how much more you enjoyed being filled with cum than you enjoyed condoms,” he said, scrolling to the next picture. 
“And here's your first creampie,” he said, his spare hand pushing under your shirt, fingers clamping down on one nipple as you shuddered. 
Your pace was faster now, desperately thrusting up and down his thigh. Even through your skirt and panties, you felt your wetness against his pants, knowing you'd be punished later for such unladylike behaviour. 
As if Spencer had ever wanted you to act like a lady. He knew you were a slut and he enjoyed it. 
“The next one is a video,” he said, moving his hand to your other breast and slapping it as you moaned above him. “Do you think you can handle it?” 
“Y-Yes, Sir. Please let me see it, sir.” 
“Okay, but not a fucking noise out of you. I want to hear your screams from the video.” 
You could only silently groan in reply, nodding quickly as he scrolled and pressed play. 
This one was recent, maybe one or two nights ago. You recognised the outfit you'd partially discarded, the shirt that had been ripped open. 
How had you possibly not seen the camera pointed straight at you? 
In the video, his cock was pressed into you, fucking you at a pace most would call violent  but you called heavenly. The focus wasn't on your pussy taking his cock, though, but on your boobs, recoiling and jumping with every thrust. His other hand pressed to your stomach, feeling himself sheathed there, as you moaned desperately. 
“Spen…Spen-sher,” you tripped over your tongue, slurring the words as if you'd been drugged. Your eyelids were heavy, eyes practically rolling back in your head as his hand on your stomach tightened. 
“I think I fucked your brain out, baby,” he laughed deeply, cock not relenting even one second. 
“Your tits looked so perfect,” the Spencer of the present said, pressing the phone into your hand as he grabbed each nipple and tugged them forward, leaving you gasping. 
“And you didn't even realize I was filming it all. I could've done anything to you, anything at all, and you wouldn't have cared. You'd have enjoyed it, and I'd have had the proof.” 
You were soaked now, humping deliriously against his thigh, like a puppy experiencing their first heat, desperate for this feeling to go away and for it to stay and intensify all the same. 
“You were acting so stupid. At one point, I even got you to say hello to the camera, and you didn't remember a thing an hour later.” 
Releasing one breast, he swiped one more time to the left, and you saw the beginning of another video. 
Hitting the play button, his hands returned to your chest, this time pushing up your top and bra and freely clamping down on the nipples as hard as he could. 
What intrigued you the most about this last video was the start. Unlike the pictures and the videos, you weren't in the middle of sex at the beginning of this video at all. 
You were instead laid with your back to the camera - to Spencer - a leg thrown over some unfamiliar sheets. This wasn't his bed. This wasn't yours either. 
Another minute of grinding against his leg, and you recognised the motel room from your last case. 
“Spencer, wh-” 
“Watch and see, princess.” 
The bed creaked under his weight as he climbed in behind you, removing the duvet covers from your body, replacing it with his hands. He made similarly swift work of your pajamas, only bothering to push them down to your knees before pulling out his cock and slowly pushing into you. 
If you weren't so close to another orgasm, you'd probably be shocked that Spencer had invaded your personal space and started fucking you as you slept. But that's what it meant to be his little free use slut. You allowed him access to you anywhere, anytime (including the motel room you'd given him the spare key for) and in return he dropped as many loads of his cum into your pussy as would fit there. 
Watching yourself get violated in your sleep was the last of what you needed to push over the edge. 
You grabbed Spencer's arm, gasping, and you felt him trail kisses along your neck and shoulders. 
“That's it, baby, just hold on a second while I…” he pulled the phone out of your grasp, opening yet another familiar looking app. 
You looked at the screen and found your own bare chest heaving staring back at you. He clicked the red button and forced it back into your hands as he began abusing your tits again. 
“Show the camera, Y/N. Show them how you get yourself off on my leg.” 
You complied, lifting the phone slightly to get the best view of your chest, heaving up and down as you humped his thigh into oblivion. 
Your cunt twitched and you felt fluids rushing out of you, even as your arms trembled. But you didn't let them falter  holding g up the phone to capture every second of your climax, knowing its exactly what he would want. 
“You're perfect, you know that Y/N,” he said, finally kissing the top of your head and pulling the phone out of your grasp as he saved the video into the file you'd been browsing. 
His gentleness was short-lived, though, as he pushed you off his lap and back to the floor. As you caught your breath, ass up on the floor, he took the opportunity to slip his dick out of his pants, and began stroking it up and down, inspecting your pussy with his free fingers. 
“I'll give you five seconds to get ready for the next round,” he said, and you panicked, lifting your legs off the floor. You weren't strong enough, though, or maybe you just didn't want to move. He kept counting down. 
“4….3….2…1,” you heard the predatory grin in his voice as he pushed his foot onto your head, holding your cheek to the floor with one leg. 
“As you wish then, my little slut.” He moved his foot away quickly and pushed inside of you, and your last coherent thought was of the folder again, and how long he'd make you wait to see the video you were about to shoot. 
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enwoso · 2 days
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Hi, I love your writing! I was wondering if you could write a fic where Rooney and Russo are recording there new podcast and they mention a funny story to do with you. With Alessia x reader pairing. You can make the story up but I thought it would be funny
THIRD WHEEL — alessia russo
sorry to whoever requested this as it’s took me so long to actually finish it, but it’s finally here!
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"hello! and welcome back to the tooney and russo show with me y/n l/n, and before you all ask don't worry i'm not stealing vic's job she's just poorly" you said down the microphone, getting yourself comfy in the big chair opposite the couch that alessia and ella were sat on.
"thank god we only have to put up with you for one episode!" ella says rolling her eyes playfully as you gasp, the two bursting into laughter.
"hey!"
"anyways i'm here with two of football most famous friends, alessia russo and ella toone!" you cheered as the two opposite you clapped as well as the people behind the cameras.
"are we the most famous friends?" ella turns asking alessia who shrugs, you clearing your throat to get the brunettes attention back.
"they've just written that on the script to boost your ego" you smile quickly before looking back down to the ipad as the ella starts laughing as does less.
“i’m not lying it’s on here!” you hold the ipad up in there direction showing them, “you really know how to make someone feel good about themselves don’t you, y/n!” ella jokes as you nod you head.
“it’s my speciality — ask lessi i do it on the daily for her!” you say winking jokingly towards less who shakes her head at your silliness.
“whatever helps you sleep at night love” alessia sighs, not wanting to disagree with you knowing the ramble you would go into.
"anyways before we get sidetracked anymore, the fans want to know a bit more about your routine when playing, asking if you find it hard to sleep before a big game?" you read out the question that was on the ipad in front of you.
"speaking on behalf of all three of us here, but we all sleep like babies!" ella says as you and alessia nod in agreement humming.
"yeah what's the saying, can sleep on a camels back" alessia blurts out making you make a confused face, as you mouthed a what to ella who shook her head also having no idea what the blonde had just said.
"that's not a saying babe, you've just made that up!"
"i have not, search it up!” the blonde defended her self as you still looked at her with a confused face trying to understand what she meant from her try at an inspirational message.
“um yeah moving on.. i sleep good all the time to be fair. but do either of you remember the night before the euro final?” you asked them both, ella nodding while less say shaking her head.
“oh yeah, i remember that night. do you not?” ella agreeing with you as she directed the last part of her sentence the blonde sat next to her, who shook her head while mumbling a no into the mic in front of her.
“so obviously we was staying in this really nice hotel, the tottenham hot spur hotel it was i think, and everyone was asleep and um in the night the automatic blinds kept coming up” ella explained as you nodded along.
“i never even noticed to be honest, but i remember you complaining about it in the morning” alessia pointed over to you.
“yeah and i only noticed them because you’d took all the blankets from me and i’d woke up freezing, and then-“ you began as the blonde across you cut you off with a gasp as her mouth went wide open.
“you say this all the time, but i don’t hog the covers!” the blonde said in a defensive tone, ella watching with a smirk on her face at the bickering between the two of you an occasional giggle coming from her.
“how would you know if you do or don’t? your asleep less?” ella commented as you hummed your eyes going wide, “exactly!”
“and then the stupid blinds kept me awake and then less had her alarm set for dead early and she didn’t even wake up — honestly worst night sleep i’ve ever had.” you grumbled carrying on with your small story as alessia mumbled into her mic about you being overly dramatic.
“oh i hate alarms me, i’m the type who had to wake straight up as soon as it goes off” ella says as you hum, “cause once you start snoozing, it’s game over”
“lessi is the worst for snoozing”
the podcast carry’s one as you talk along with the two girls, about random things that start a different conversation until you get up to the fan questions section of the pod.
“so we are up to when you guys at home get to know ella and lessi more off the pitch as they answer your questions where nothing is off limits, i’m excited for this bit” you smile down the camera before smirking to the two girls as they look at each other scared. you continuing to scroll through the ipad.
“first one is weirdest thing your both scared of?” you say giggling to yourself knowing what both of their answers are going to be.
“probably bananas” ella says pulling a face of disgust as you ask why. “i dunno, i just really don’t like them.
“um turkeys or just birds in general” alessia shrugs as your mind takes you back to the world cup of when there was loads of them there.
“there definitely both weird, the next one is directly for you lessi — this fan has said: alessia your half italian but can you actually speak it” you say reading the comment word for word off the ipad, looking up to see the blondes blank face as you begin to laugh along with ella.
“well i can understand it, i tried to learn how to speak it and i can speak a few words..” less trails off her words getting quieter and quieter with each one she spoke.
you raised your eyebrows humming in amusement, “yep and by tried you mean one duolingo lesson?”
“pretty hard to try and learn it when you have someone distracting you every five seconds wanting attention!” alessia argued, taking a sip of her water which was next to her.
“sorry for showing and giving my girlfriend some love?” you scoffed jokingly as you placed your hands in the air in defence. “next time i won’t bother” you added sassily.
the blonde pouting, mumbling along the lines of that you know that she loves giving you her attention you humming at her response, the blonde holding her hands up in an attempt at a heart with her fingers getting a small smile from you.
as ella dry retched down the mic, “do you have to do the lovey dovey stuff every where we go!”
“okay this is a good one, who’s the better driver” you ask, putting the ipad to the other side.
“well i think we can both agree who it’s not-“ alessia smirked pointed between her and ella who nodded in agreement knowing what the blonde was going to say.
“who?”
“you- do you not…” alessia began before you cut her off, “hang on the question wasn’t to include me, and i know the story your gonna tell and it’s gonna be completely wrong but carry on” you sulked, sinking further in the chair you were sat in opposite the two best friends.
“no so you were in a really tight parking spot, which can i add i told you not to park in-“ alessia began to tell the story in between laughs as tooney listened intently, you sat across from them with a frown on your face.
“—and there was this bollard to the right of the car and i told you that you were gonna hit it if you carried on but you were adamant you weren’t gonna hit it. and of course who was right cause then the back of your car ended up with a massive dent in the back along with scratches along the side”
“yeah but in my defense right, since i did move slightly the way you told me to and if i hadn’t i definitely would have missed it” you defended yourself as alessia rose her eyebrows not totally convinced.
“is this the day you came to england camp sulking?” ella asked as alessia nodded her head slowly in response for you, you not wanting to admit it.
“and now i’m banned from driving lessi’s car-“ your frown deepened.
“i mean i’m not surprised!”
“and that’s all we have time for today, before i get outed anymore!” you perked up once again, the two girls straightening themselves up as you looked down the central camera.
“like you haven’t been outing us for the whole ep love” alessia commented as you waved your hand at what she said.
“thanks for joining me, less and tooney as i third wheeled-“ you began again but got cut off by ella. “no i was, as always!”
“bye!”
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lukesaprince · 2 days
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Rich Part 22
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Summary: Neighbour/Older!Harry. Y/n meets Anne, her Dad finds out the truth and an unexpected encounter has devastating results.
Warning: Smut, bj (the beginning of one anyway), penetration, semi-public sex, exhibitionism, dirty talk. Mentions of revenge p*rn, Ethan, bad mental health. There is also a detailed account of a panic attack and negative thinking so please be mindful of this. PLEASE lmk if I've missed anything ❤️
Word count: 21k+
Author's note: Look I'll always say I'm an angst writer not an angst reader so I hope you guys enjoy reading a bit of it... At this point Rich won't be finishing up at Part 25 as expected because I just don't think I'll fit everything I want to within three more chapters so you're welcome I guess. ANYWAY happy reading muah
- Find Series Masterlist Here -
- Find my General Masterlist here -
“Okay… y’ready?” Harry asked, bopping his knee anxiously. 
“I’m ready.” You confirmed, smiling. 
You totally weren’t ready. 
This was the first meet-the-parents thing you had ever done in your life and you were fucking terrified. You didn’t want to come across as too immature or young but you also wanted to be yourself. Compared to Harry you were young and even if you had things in common, you were as Gen Z as they came and the last thing you wanted was Anne thinking you were some kid. 
From what Harry told you, Anne wasn’t a judgmental person. She was a sweetheart and seemed so gentle and kind. Like your mum but without the hint of crazy. He did say Anne liked a good glass of wine, which both you and your mum enjoyed as well so that was one thing you had in common. 
You were definitely overthinking it way too hard but Harry being nervous made you nervous. You just wanted her to like you. It was a lot harder meeting her for the first time via Facetime too because there wasn’t really a lot of external stimuli to chat about if things got quiet. You weren’t sharing a meal or doing an activity where the conversation could drift naturally. This all felt so formal.
Harry assured you that he’d jump in at any point it got quiet but that he didn’t think he’d need to because Anne loved to talk about anything and everything. That made you feel a bit better but you still felt like your inside matched how Harry looked on the outside. Anxious.
You didn’t really want to make it worse by talking about your own nerves, especially since Harry had been talking about it all damn day. He kept bringing it up through text and called you double what he usually did while he was at work. He was trying to appear calm and in every conversation he was making sure you were still okay with meeting his mum. 
You knew that it was because he was nervous about it. Harry was practically losing sleep over it and he didn’t really understand why. He didn’t expect to be so nervous about it, especially since he wasn’t phased by your parents knowing about you two. 
He just loved you so much, so fucking much, and you were one of the most important people in his life. The most important. His mum was one of the other important people and maybe that’s why he was all in knots about it. 
His mum’s opinion on you mattered a great deal to him and even if it wouldn’t change how he felt about you, or whether he continued seeing you, it still mattered. She is the closest family member he has and he wants you two to get along more than anything else. 
Deep down, all along all Harry ever wanted was a family. Maybe not the kids and nuclear family model, but family. He could play it off and think that meaningless hookups and money could satisfy him for the rest of his life and for a while it did. It truly did. But meeting you changed everything and now all he wanted was his family together. 
He wanted a life with friends that he loved, a partner he adored who adored him back and he wanted his family back together again. Harry had two out of three of those things and now his family was the last thing he needed to tackle. 
Harry knew Anne would love you because he loved you, but he was still riddled with anxiety. The cause was more than just this initial FaceTime of course, but this was one of the many things he was having a hard time dealing with. He felt blessed that he had you to support him through everything. 
You placed a gentle hand on his knee, applying a little pressure so it would stop shaking. “Are you ready?” 
Harry nodded, grabbing your chin affectionately, “yeah, m’love. Just haven’t introduced many partners to her before. Not that any of them were nearly as important as you.”
Not that any of them were as important as you. 
Oh did you fucking love this man. 
“I hope she likes me” you whispered, puckering your lips against his thumb when he brushed it against your mouth.  
“She will.” He assured you while smiling fondly. “What’s not to like, baby?” 
“thank you…” you whispered, pecking him quickly. “I love you.”
“Love you.” He murmured, wanting to say so much more only to be interrupted by the ringing sound of his laptop. It was far easier to do FaceTime with both of you on the bigger screen and this way you wouldn’t be as squished up. 
You quickly adjusted your hair over your shoulders so it laid nicely, trying not to bite away the lipgloss you applied specifically for this call. You wanted to look nice to meet Anne for the first time, even if it was via FaceTime. 
The screen lit up with Anne’s gorgeous face and smile when Harry answered the call. His hand fell to your thigh immediately, reaching for your hand to intertwine your fingers together. 
“Hi mum.” Harry greeted with a bright smile. His entire demeanor lit up when he saw her and you could visibly feel his body relax a little. You had never seen Harry interact with any family before so it was just so… nice to watch. You felt warm inside even after two words. 
“Harry! Oh my gosh, your beard. It’s so lush. You look wonderful.” Anne beamed, her face bright and so warm. You had seen photos of her before, even stalked her Instagram a little to see what vibe she gave off and she was even lovelier than usual. 
“Thanks,” Harry sheepishly responded, stroking the stubble on his jaw. He didn’t grow it out very often, at least not to the length it had gone now. It was only when he was on holiday usually. But you liked his moustache and the feeling of his facial hair between your thighs so he was more than happy to give you what you wanted. Harry liked the look too, he just preferred being cleanly shaved for work. 
You were obviously more important than his job. 
“And you must be y/n! Oh, you’re gorgeous.” She cooed, looking right at you, “She’s gorgeous, H.” Her eyes flicked to Harry. 
“I know. Absolutely breathtaking” Harry brought your intertwined fingers to his mouth and kissed the back of your hand before setting it back down on your knee. 
“Thank you.” You blushed, “it’s so nice to meet you, Anne. Harry’s told me so much about you.” You squeezed Harry’s hand, feeling like you were in some sort of job interview. You were lost for words and so nervous. You couldn’t relax even if you wanted to. 
“Oh, I’m sure he has, darling.” She laughed. It was so warm and homely, much like Harry’s. “He’s such a storyteller, aren’t you, H? Always has been y’know, even as a kid. He used to dress up and perform plays for Gem and me. Oh, he was so cute!”
“Mum.” Harry scolded. Of course, it barely took a minute before she spoke about his childhood. He knew if you were all in her kitchen she’d have the photo albums out before you even arrived. 
“Oh shush, you. Don’t pretend you didn’t love it. He was such a little actor. A good singer too.” Anne replied, happy to be sharing stories about her son with an actual girlfriend of his. 
“Yeah he is,” you agreed, “He always leads our singing in the car.” You finished off with a giggle.
“I do not.” Harry defended.
“You so do! He always leads, Anne. Always.” You laughed, earning
“That’s not true, I sing plenty thank you very much.” Harry defended, knowing you were just riling him up when in fact your car singalongs were some of his favourite moments and a regular occurrence when you were out and about.
“Mhmm. Sure.” You teased, earning a pinch on your thigh in reprimand.  
“We’ve got one of those little karaoke machines here, y/n, and every Christmas Harry used to do a singalong with all the kids. He said it was because they loved it but we all knew it was because he did.” Anne smiled fondly at the memory, but you could feel the sudden shift in the air at the mention of Christmas. Something Harry hadn’t been to for years. “Anyway, that was a while ago…” she brushed off, but you could feel the way Harry was tensed against you. “Harry tells me you’re studying? Marketing, right?” 
“Yeah,” you confirmed, giving Harry’s hand a comforting squeeze. 
He wrapped his arm around your waist to hold onto you and intertwined your fingers with his other hand. It immediately made him calm down again. He wasn’t usually so sensitive but with so much going on and the possibility of him actually being at his family’s Christmas this year, it hit him a little harder than usual. It wasn’t Anne’s intention at all and Harry knew that, but it was hard to think about the years he missed. 
“I’m doing a double bachelor's degree in marketing and arts. It’s my final year so I’ve only got one semester left and then I’m free. Finally.” You finished with a nervous laugh. 
“Oh wow, that’s amazing  You must be so proud of your achievements,” She gushed like she was proud of you and it was the first time she had ever met you. Her energy was so kind and warm, exactly how Harry described. “I remember from Harry how hard it can be to be in university. All that study and stress. You’re working as well, aren’t you?” 
“Um thank you,” You tucked your hair behind your ear, feeling a little shy at her sudden praise. “And I am, yeah. I’m working at a cafe on campus a couple days a week, sometimes more depending on my workload. It can be a lot sometimes but I’m trying to make the most out of it. I’ve made really good friends and we all live close by or have classes together so I want to have as much fun as I can before it’s all over. It’s crazy how fast it’s gone already.”
“Well from what Harry’s told me, you’re smart and very capable. I’m sure you’ll do great.” She replied earnestly, “do you have plans for after graduation?”
“I’m not 100% sure yet, actually. I always had this idea of going straight into work and if I find something I’m interested in I’ll definitely go for it but I don't know… I don’t think I’m in a rush to get there. I’d like to travel for a bit, maybe take some time to figure out what I want to do. I’d like to do my masters eventually as well so I’m not sure if I want to do that before going into full-time work or work a bit then do it. I’ll see how I go, really.” you smiled sheepishly, looking at Harry briefly. His entire focus was on you and he was squeezing your waist and hand encourgagingly. “For now I just want to get good results.”
“She’s incredibly smart and talented,” Harry complimented, kissing your temple lovingly. You blushed at the show of affection, especially in front of his mum. You loved it, you really did, it was just so unfamiliar to be so open in front of family. You two hadn’t even seen your mum together yet. “Whatever she does, she’ll be amazing at.”
“I’m sure you will be, y/n.” Anne echoed, feeling her own heart burst with how affectionate Harry was being with you. She had never seen him like this with anyone before. Not since he was a young boy anyway. 
“Thank you…” You whispered, smiling up at him. His gaze was so loving and so sincere. It was like you were his entire universe. You were getting way too flustered and at this point, you still hadn’t asked Anne any questions. You wanted the attention off yourself already. “And what about you, Anne? Harry told me you write children’s novels?”
“And illustrate.” She proudly added, “Oh it’s my passion…”
The phone call lasted a good hour. It was just a natural back-and-forth conversation between you all that felt so comfortable and so homely. After you finally relaxed and Harry did as well, it was easy to enjoy talking to her. Anne was so lovely and so sweet and funny, you already loved her. Archie of course got some limelight and you were able to show pictures of your family and friends and share so many details about your life.
It was only the first meeting and you felt like you were connecting well with her already. Even though Harry said he’d jump in if it got quiet, it just never did. You two were as chatty as anything and Harry barely got to speak unless he was directly addressed. It was wonderful. Anne never made your age seem like it was an issue, though you could tell she was surprised when you told her exactly how old you were. 
Harry told her more about you after you agreed to meet her and showed her photos of you and all that, but at that point, you realised that he never specified how old you were. You thought he would’ve been completely honest about your age gap and for the most part, he must’ve been, but it was a little surprising to see that look on her face.
It was only fleeting and if you didn’t see her surprised reaction, you would’ve never known because her attitude didn’t change. She seemed genuine in every way, but you hoped that she didn’t have any ill feelings towards you because of your age. It would’ve been understandable of course, especially considering your mum’s reaction to Harry, but you really liked her already and you wanted her to like you back.
“Alright mum, I’ll talk to you soon.” Harry bid his goodbye.
“Bye, darling. It was so nice meeting you too, y/n. Hopefully, it isn’t too long before I get to see you in person.” Anne waved into the camera, blowing you two a kiss through the screen.
“Hopefully not.” You smiled while waving back to her “Bye, Anne.”
The screen turned black once the call ended, leaving you two (and Archie) alone again. “So… how do you think it went?” You asked after a moment of silence. 
He grinned and cupped your face with both hands to look at you, “how do I think it went? Baby, you two didn’t stop talking the entire hour. I think it went perfectly.”
“Really?” You whispered, pecking his mouth before pulling back just enough so your noses were brushing together. “You think she liked me? She seemed so surprised when I told her how old I am.” 
Harry nodded, “I think she loved you. I told you she would.”
“I hope so because I loved her. She was so sweet.”
“She’ll love you saying that.” Harry grinned, humming before kissing you once more. He closed his eyes while pulling away, “mmh. I love you for saying that. I love you anyway, but even more now that you love my mum.” 
“And here I thought you couldn’t get more obsessed with me. All it took was impressing your mother and you’re kissing me and-”
Funny enough, it was a kiss paired with a firm hand around your throat that interrupted your words. The kiss changed from a smooth brush of your lips to something that had you whimpering and gasping for air in a matter of seconds. “I am obsessed with you.” He murmured, pulling away just enough to say the words before he kissed you again. You smiled into it and gripped his hair in a firm tug. 
“Can I… can I say something that might make you more obsessed with me?” You offered, panting a little while letting your hand fall to his thigh to give it a firm squeeze.  
“Impossible but I’m listening?” He grinned, leaning back against the couch. He grabbed onto your waist and pulled you towards him, hooking his hand under your knee to drag you across his lap so you were straddling him. It wasn’t meant to be sexual necessarily, just because he wanted you as close as possible. 
His arms wrapped around you as soon as you were settled and he was happy to slide them under your-well his nice knit jumper you stole for the call. It didn’t seem necessary to put a bra on when you two were just spending time at home today and only your shoulders up would be shown in the call. He was able to feel the entire expanse of your bare back and how soft your skin was. It was driving him mad. 
“I’ve been thinking… about London.” You swallowed thickly, a little nervous about the conversation you were about to have, “About Italy…” 
It was hard to communicate properly when his hands were rubbing all over your back and sides, his fingers even grazing the sides of your breasts for a moment before returning backwards. You had been thinking about the trip intensely over the last couple of days since he first brought it up to you and all the pros and cons of going. 
Your main concern was his family, but it wasn’t just that. When you two spoke about it, it was before your mum knew and there was so much uncertainty surrounding your parents. You knew you wouldn’t have been able to go on the trip without telling them about it and you couldn’t exactly do that without telling them the truth. Now that your mum knew and was happy for you… it kind of felt like that situation wasn’t a reason not to go on the trip anymore.
University was another concern but Harry was right in saying that the trip would barely overlap with your classes. Your semester ended just over a week before the trip, as did your assignments. You only had two exams and they were both luckily early on in the timetable, like even your university wanted you to go on this trip. They didn’t leave you much space for when Harry wanted to leave, barely a few days but you could manage. 
As for money… Harry already offered to cover everything… multiple times. You knew that if you did end up going it was non-negotiable for him to foot the bill as he simply wouldn’t have it any other way and while the thought kind of mortified you, you also knew he only offered because he genuinely wanted to do it. Besides, even if Harry offered to pay for it all, you still wanted to have your own money and realistically… you did. With how Harry paid you for months while you dog sat for him, you had really healthy savings and while most of it was reserved for actual living and your trip at the end of the year, you could afford to spend some of it. 
There were more reasons to go than not to go and you hoped that the concerns you did have could just be talked about. 
“Yeah? What about it?” Harry scratched your back lightly, making goosebumps rise all over your skin until you shivered against him. 
“Would you… would you still want me to go? If I could?” 
“You want to come? Seriously?” His eyes widened in glee and he perked up instantly. 
You laughed softly while playing with the curls at the back of his head, “I do and I can make it work with school it’s just… are you sure it’s not too soon? To… y’know, see your house and your childhood town and for us to spend an entire month together? We’ve only been together a couple of months. What if you get sick of me?”
“I’d never get sick of you.” He defended with a soft smile, hugging you close to him. “I want you to come more than anything, baby. Truly. It would make me so happy.”
“And what about your family? I want to support you and I’m happy to be there for you but I don’t want to overstep and I don’t want to… I don’t know, like, take away anything from your healing. I still think this is something you should do by yourself.”
“I understand what you’re saying, y/n and I get it.” His hands settled to your lower back in a loose hold while he maintained eye contact with you, “This is something I’ve been afraid of for years and I know I need to face it by myself but that doesn’t mean I don’t want you meeting anyone.” He flashed a soft smile, wrapping his arms properly around you. He hugged you against him, loving the feeling of having you close to him during a conversation like this. “Sure, Gem’s birthday might be off the table because who knows how that’s going to go, but I’d still love for you to meet my mum and… whoever else would be willing. It’s been a long time since I’ve been back, but I’d like to think you’d be received with open arms.”
Truthfully, Harry didn’t know what to expect from his visit home. He kept in contact with some of his closest cousins and friends, but there were still those who never really forgave him for what he did to Gemma. He wasn’t sure if they’d come around after the effort he was about to put into trying to mend that relationship, but they were all loving and earnest people. Harry hoped they’d be willing to forgive him. 
He was trying not to get too hopeful though. 
“Even if I’m not… received with open arms, I’d understand it.” You replied softly. “I just don’t want to be one of the reasons your family doesn’t want to give you a chance, that’s all.”
If this situation was reversed and your family member was coming to visit to try and mend things, only to bring his very new and young girlfriend along with him, you’d be hesitant for sure. It was why you had no expectations to meet anyone or attend any family reunions. You were very prepared to be spending days alone and exploring the city while Harry reconnected with everyone. You had always wanted to solo travel so you actually hoped you’d be able to spend some days just walking around by yourself. 
“Y/n… my sweet, sweet girl, you won’t be.” He assured, bringing his hands from under your jumper to cup your face. “There may be a chance they’re not very receptive to me, but that’ll be with or without you there…” He smiled lovingly, running his thumbs over your cheeks. His touch was an instant calm and you found yourself leaning into it heavily. “Look, I understand if you may feel a little awkward so I won’t push you to do anything, but if things are going well I don't see why you couldn’t meet everyone. I know my mum would want to have you over for dinner. Not sure if you’ll be able to get out of that. ”
You laughed softly at his comment and leaned forward to kiss him. “I’d love to meet your mum.” You declared softly, kissing him again. “Okay…” You whispered while pulling away, “I’m in.”
“Yeah?” He grinned.
“Yeah.” You echoed, nodding before squealing when Harry suddenly scooped you up from the couch. 
“How ‘bout we celebrate then, hm?” He mused, kissing you between words as he very quickly made his way upstairs. You laughed a little but agreed nonetheless, kissing him as much as possible until you were lying down on his bed. 
Archie had followed you upstairs with a toy in his mouth, tail wagging like you were all about to play a game until Harry quickly uttered those three words that made Archie whine like a sad puppy dog. “Harry, he’s crying.” You pouted, looking around Harry’s legs to make eye contact with the sad little boy. 
“He’ll be fine.” Harry laughed, “go on, Arch, go downstairs.” 
After another huff, Archie trotted off with his toy in his mouth, allowing Harry to close the bedroom door and leave you two alone. He turned back to face you, eyes dark and full of promise of what he was about to do to you. You couldn’t have been more excited. 
“I can’t believe we’re finally christening your bed.” You teased, pushing your sweatpants down your legs until they got caught around your ankles. Harry was quick to help you and pulled them off the rest of the way.
“Mhmm. It’s been way too long, baby… Still want to get my box of toys out, though. I’ve got a paddle and pink rope with your name on it.” He smirked, dumping your sweatpants onto the floor before pulling off his hoodie and shirt in one go. 
“When I sleep over. Please, when I sleep over…” you murmured, sitting up so Harry could pull your-his knit jumper off to join the growing pile on the floor. He quickly shoved his pants off before settling between your thighs and joining your mouths in a messy heated kiss. 
You’d never get sick of kissing him, not when it felt like an explosion in your belly and a tingling all over your body. Just a single peck had you completely swooning and you’d happily make out with him for hours without doing anything else.
Though knowing you two… it always turned into something else. Something more. 
“Baby there’s so many things I need to do to you. Just need time and privacy so I can make you scream as loud as I fucking want.” His words were low and rumbly, partly disappearing into the seam of your mouth because he just couldn���t part from your lips long enough to get a full sentence out. The fact that he used ‘need’ instead of ‘want’ drove you up the fucking wall and you were suddenly more desperate than ever to touch him.
“I’d do anything for that… anything…” You gasped, digging your fingers into his shoulders. His body was so big and heavy over you and you could already feel how hard he was pressed against you. Long and thick and all yours. Sometimes you had to pinch yourself when you thought about being with someone like Harry. 
“Mmh, I know you would.” He hummed, beginning to kiss along your jaw down to your neck. “Bet you’d beg for it too, wouldn’t you?”
“Yes…” You nodded breathlessly, pulling his mouth back to yours by cupping his jaw in both hands. With a little hook of your neck and a very clear ‘lay down’ mumbled into Harry’s mouth, he let you turn your bodies so he was against the bed and you were straddling him. 
“I love seeing you like this” Harry murmured, watching you adjust so you were kneeling between his legs instead of sitting on top of him. You smiled at the compliment and ran your hands over his chest, digging your nails into his skin ever so slightly so he groaned and squeezed your waist.
“I love seeing you like this” You replied, leaning down to press a kiss to the middle of his chest. “I love kissing you…” you continued, peppering kisses all over his chest and down to his abs, “...kissing your body, your tattoos…” 
Harry sighed above you, sliding his hand through your hair to sweep it across to one shoulder so it wasn’t covering your face. Every gentle touch of your lips against him had his entire body clenching with need. He knew you could feel it too. 
You took your time running your mouth and tongue over his body, tracing his tattoos and the contours of his muscles. There was just something so fucking sexy about having full access to him like this, of being able to touch and kiss wherever you liked. And you had time, you could take as much time in kissing him and touching him and making him cum in your mouth.
As far as your parents knew, you were out with Lucy for the night. You weren’t particularly sure if your mum believed your lie when you walked out the door after dropping your things off, but you didn’t really pay too much attention to it when your call with Anne was on your mind. There was a change in your schedule this week which allowed you to sleep at your childhood home midweek for once and you took it immediately. Being away from home was harder than ever now that you and Harry were seeing each other and you were getting a bit homesick. 
You loved living by yourself, but you missed the moments you used to have with your parents. Your nightly Netflix binges with your mum and cooking with your dad. It was why you loved to come home and why you tried to spend as much time here as possible. Now that Harry was in the picture… well your homesickness was for him as well as your family.
It always got bad towards the end of the semester too and you were feeling it extra hard this time. You were run down and tired and pushed to your absolute limit and all you wanted to do was go home and be a kid again. Nowadays all you wanted was to curl into Harry’s arms and forget all your responsibilities existed. 
Oh… and you absolutely wanted to do this…
“Especially love these ones…” you continued, kissing over his right fern tattoo before pressing your tongue flat against the leaves. “And biting here…” licking a trail up to his hip, you very happily bit down on the spot right above his waistband before starting to work on making a small hickey there. 
“Shit…” Harry breathed, clenching his jaw. His fingers tightened in your hair, trying to control every cell in his body that wanted to take control of the situation. Your teasing was torturous and his cock was so goddamn sore he didn’t think he’d even be able to last a full minute once you got your mouth on him. At least he hoped that’s where this was going. However, he really did not care as long as you were just touching him in some capacity.
“Wanna know what I really love, though?” You asked, looking directly up at him while tucking your fingers into the waistband of his tight briefs. His cock was pressing angrily against the soft material and all you wanted to do was get your mouth on it. 
“What’s that?”
“Tasting your cock…” you reached down and licked along his length through his underwear, loving the way his filthy moan echoed around the room. “Can I? Please…”
“Fuck… of course you can.” Harry swallowed thickly, almost trembling when you found his tip and sucked ever so gently on it. “Shit baby… take me out.”
Right as you were about to free his cock and finally taste him, the sound of Harry’s doorbell echoed outside his bedroom door. He had an intercom system upstairs and in his kitchen so the sound was always loudest in those two areas. Archie’s barking followed the ringing soon after and you could hear the distinct sound of him jumping around near the front door.
“Who the fuck would be here right now?” Harry cursed, rubbing his hand over his face. 
“Just ignore it. We’re busy.” You shrugged, licking him through his briefs again. You were a big fan of ignoring the door and your phone when you didn’t want to speak with someone but if there was one thing you noticed about your parents and well… Harry’s generation was that they were incapable of putting their phone on silent. 
Harry shuddered and hissed at your hot tongue against his cock and soon the door was the last thing on his mind. “You’re right… you’re right. For the love of god, please continue baby.” He practically pleaded, almost coming at the dazed-doe expression you had on your face. It looked like you were almost enjoying this more than him. Almost. 
You got back to it and kissed along his skin as you pulled his boxers down, following the waistband with your mouth until your lips brushed against the very base of him. His fingers tightened in your hair the further down his length you got until you had licked a trail from his base right to his tip. 
But then the doorbell rang again, just as you were about to pull his underwear completely down his thighs. 
“Fuck. This better be fucking important” Harry cursed again, reluctantly letting go of your hair. You made a noise of indignation and pulled his boxers back up for him before making space so he could get up from the bed. You flopped onto your back, looking at him with straight annoyance at the fact he was taking his cock away from you. “I’ll be right back, y/n. Right back.” He promised, reaching down to peck your mouth. “I’m just going to see who it is, okay?” 
All Harry had to do was walk a little down his hallway where the intercom was and he could speak to whoever was at the gate. He could do it from his phone too but he left that downstairs and there was no way he was walking all the way down there with a sore cock just to turn away whoever was trying to sell him something. 
“Hurry upppp.” You complained, already impatient with him leaving you. 
“Just be patient, y/n.” Harry tutted, trying not to show how dizzy he was by how eager you were to suck him off. You could give him head every day or once a month and he’d be as eager and grateful for it every single time. There was just something about enthusiastic head that drove Harry up the fucking wall. 
Harry adjusted his cock in his boxers before pressing the video button to see who was at his gate and when the clear image popped up, his eyes nearly fell out of his head. “Uhh… y/n?”
“Yeah?” you called back, staring up at the ceiling while clenching and unclenching the duvet in your hands to try and distract yourself from how horny you were.
“It’s your mum.”
“What!?” You shot up from the bed immediately, looking at him wide-eyed. “What the hell is she doing here?” 
It was an immediate cause of panic for the two of you, like you were two teenagers being caught having sex after your parents came home too early. But neither of you were teenagers and you were in the privacy of your own home. Well, Harry’s home.
“I don’t know! What do I do?” Even Harry was panicking, mostly at the loss of his time with you but also because he had no idea what your mum wanted. As bad as it was, he hadn’t spoken to her properly since she found out about you two. He hadn’t seen her due to his work schedule and he didn’t really feel right going over for a cup of tea to talk about your relationship without you being present. 
“Just answer it, I don’t know!?”
“Okay… shit. Okay.” Harry cleared his throat before pressing the call button to speak to your mum, “Hi Jules, everything alright?”
“Is my daughter in there?” 
You pressed your hands to your face and groaned into them, already recognising the slight tinge of drunkenness in her voice. Even through the intercom, you could identify the one, potentially one and a half glasses of wine she had. 
“I know she’s there, Harry, so I suggest you let me in so we can all chat.” Jules continued.
Harry looked back at you and took his finger off the button, giving you a look that basically asked, ‘so what should I do?’. 
“Well we don’t exactly have a choice, do we? I can’t lie to her again.” 
“I’ll be right down, Jules.”
Barely two minutes later you were opening the front door and letting your mum into Harry’s house. It was possibly the weirdest situation you had ever been in and you didn’t have the slightest idea why she'd be here.
“Mum, what are you doing here? You can’t just show up like this!” You exclaimed, crossing your arms when her eyes landed on Harry’s knit sweater. Both of you were in a severe rush to get your clothes back on and you opted to greet her so he’d have a little more time to sort himself out. He was as hard as anything upstairs and there was no way he was coming back down without trying to get rid of it. 
“I can and I will. You lied to me, y/n. I thought telling me about you two was so you wouldn’t lie.”
“I couldn’t exactly openly say that I’m spending the afternoon with Harry, could I? You’re being so weird about us still and Dad doesn’t even know.”
“That’s why I’m here. I can’t keep it a secret anymore! You know how dad is, every time he flashes those puppy eyes or makes me dinner I’m ready to spill everything. He knows I’m hiding something. You two need to tell him and-” she stopped herself abruptly, “where even is Harry? This is for all of us to talk about not just you and me. He hasn’t even come to talk to me too, by the way. Just so you know.”
“I apologise for that,” Harry interjected, making himself known as he walked down the stairs to join you two. He seemed settled enough and far more nonchalant than you were. You still felt and probably looked all flushed and nervous. 
It wasn’t every day your mum interrupted you about to give your boyfriend a fucking blowjob. Hiding where you were was for that exact reason. Because she simply couldn’t deal with you two being alone in his house yet and you knew it. 
“I haven’t seen you since y/n told me you knew and I felt it was important for all of us to discuss it together. I wasn’t avoiding you by any means, Jules.” He flashed that smooth buttery smile as he stood beside you, resting his hand on your lower back. “Should I put the kettle on? Or would you rather have a nice glass of Cabernet Sauvignon?”
You had never been more grateful for Harry’s effortless ability to charm women. In a second your mum went from alarmed and ready to tell Harry off to calm and pliant. Part of you fucking hated it, the other was glad she wasn’t giving you that panicked look anymore. 
Barely five minutes later all three of you were sitting on Harry’s dining table with wines in hand. The atmosphere felt like something you had to fight your way through just to breathe. It was awkward and a little tense, something you hoped it wouldn’t be after your mum gave her support to your relationship. But she was clearly upset that he hadn’t spoken to her. 
It was understandable to a degree but at the same time, if Harry was a boy your age she wouldn’t want to grill him so fucking hard. She’d probably call your relationship cute and sweet and ask questions about his family and any siblings. 
Instead, she was asking him the same questions she asked you already, trying to watch with her own eyes whether Harry was earnest and truthful about his affection for you. The wine she drank drove her questions, none thankfully which were about your sex life. She had no problems asking Harry if he worried about dying at 70 and leaving you young at 50 years old, though, which wasn’t exactly a conversation you wanted to have. 
“Mum. Seriously, what are these questions? If he was my age would you ask that?” You scolded, getting a headache. She had no ill intentions of course and she only wanted the best for you, but the way she was grilling Harry was killing you. 
“I want to know if he’s seriously thought about it, y/n. That’s all.” Mum defended. “Have you thought about it?”
Truthfully, until she asked the question the thought had never crossed your mind. Now, you were definitely going to think about it. 
“It’s okay, y/n. She’s just worried as any mother should be.” Harry tried to assure you, bringing your intertwined fingers to his mouth to kiss the back of your hand. He hid it well, but even Harry was taken aback by her questioning and it took a lot to surprise him. He flashed a calm smile before turning to your mum, “I think about our future every day, Jules, and I don’t take it lightly. I just want to make y/n happy. That’s all I want. If I give her 2 years, 5 years, 40 years of happiness I’ll be happy.” 
The thought of that made you giddy. Not the idea of your relationship being limited to two years, but knowing that this could be the rest of your life. 
“Hm.” Your mum responded, sipping her wine. “Okay, well I know where you live so any problems and I know where to find you.” 
“Yes, you do.” Harry chuckled, resting his arm on the back of your chair. His fingers found your hair and he fiddled with it in his fingers. It was hard for either of you to forget what was so rudely interrupted earlier. 
Your mum’s eyes drifted to his fingers playing with your hair and you could see the soften of fondness drift in her expression. All she wanted was to make sure you were okay and happy and while her grilling may have annoyed you, you knew it was because she loved you and nothing else. Harry wasn’t a twenty-something-year-old, he was 17 years older than you so your mum had every right to make sure he was treating you well. Especially since you were neighbours for years. 
“Well I’m happy,” Mum finished off her glass and stood up from the table, “now you two are coming for dinner. I’ll give you half an hour and you better make sure you look more put together than you do now.” 
“Mum-” you tried to interject, standing abruptly from the table as well. 
“No. You need to tell your dad. I can’t keep this a secret any longer and neither should you two.” She looked at Harry briefly, but you both knew that this whole situation fell on your shoulders. 
You looked down at Harry who was already looking up at you. He nodded gently, reading the question from your one look. Standing up, he squeezed your shoulder before letting his hand fall to your waist. 
“We’ll be there. It’ll be nice to finally have everything out in the open.” He squeezed your waist, trying to ease some of the anxiety clawing its way up your throat. You nodded and pressed your hand to his lower back, fisting his hoodie. 
“We’ll see you then, mum.” 
Neither you nor Harry could relax once she left. There was no going back to what was interrupted so all you could do was go back upstairs to clean up a little better, which really was just brushing your hair and Harry changing into something a little nicer. You were going to stay in his jumper and your sweats because it was the only clothes you had, but Harry wasn’t one to show up in a sweat set for dinner with your parents, especially when it was such a heavy evening. 
You just hoped that your dad wasn’t going to explode. That he’d have a reaction calm enough that you’d be able to discuss it all without anyone yelling. Your dad was kind and generous and he loved you more than anything, but he was also protective. Fiercely protective. The first time you were hurt by a boy as a young teen he almost went to that boy's house to confront him and it wasn’t to have a chat. 
Him and Harry were… friendly but not exceptionally close. You always found it a little odd that Harry never wanted to become friends with anyone in the neighbourhood, even when he had common interests with them. Both Harry and your dad liked golf and soccer and yet they never did more than a casual chat over the fence or at a barbecue Harry only attended once in a blue moon. 
Now… you were grateful for the distance Harry kept because it meant their relationship was pleasant but not close enough for there to be some sort of loyalty. There was no betrayal for dating someone a bit younger than your parents. No sides where your dad could feel offended for you dating a friend of his. 
Still, there was no prediction of what his reaction would be. 
“Mum, dad! We’re here!” You called through the house as you both walked towards the living area. Harry held your hand tightly, walking closely beside you until you entered kitchen. Once you were in view of your parents he let go of your hand as per what you two agreed. You wanted to settle into dinner before you said anything to your dad, so for now you had to act like you just went over to visit him and your mum extended the invitation for dinner. 
“Hey pumpkin,” Dad greeted immediately, leaving his pot on the stove unattended while he approached you immediately for a hug. “How are you? Missed you.” He squeezed. 
“‘M good. Tired. How was work?” You hugged him back, smiling at the feeling of him kissing the top of your head while he released you from the hug. 
“Same old, P.” He shrugged, squeezing your shoulder before moving onto Harry. “Harry, mate. How are you? ” Tim greeted with a wide grin, extending his hand for Harry to shake until they went into one of those quick bro hugs. “Glad you could join us!”
“‘Course, thank you so much for having me.” Harry smiled back.
Dad was as happy as anything with Harry being present, especially after Harry offered one of the more expensive wine bottles from his collection as a gift. They got into immediate conversation while Dad got back to cooking and Harry joined him. He offered his help and wound up pouring Mum and you a glass of that expensive wine each. Your mum definitely didn’t need it, but you sure as hell did.
It was such a nice domestic scene to watch. The way Harry so effortlessly conversed with your parents and made himself at home in your kitchen to help out was fucking sexy, that’s what it was. Your mum and you were able to just sit at the island bench and watch while your partners did all the work, which is exactly how it was when it was just you and Harry. Of course, only three of you in the room knew the truth, but even so, there was no akwardness or tension in the air.
You were sure that would change once your dad found out, but your mum was as happy as anything and she did know. It was like the conversation you had barely an hour ago settled all the nerves in her stomach. That or she was in her happy place watching dad cook so having Harry easily join into that arrangement made it easier for her to like him.
“Maybe I am a fan of Harry because not only do I get to look at one, but two very sexy men in the kitchen.” Mum whispered to you before exploding in a fit of drunk giggles. You gasped but joined her in her laughter, happy that she was able to joke and relax… even if it was a little weird for her to call your boyfriend sexy.
“What are you two giggling about?” Harry mused, sipping his wine through a smile while looking directly at you.
“It’s better if you don’t know, mate. My wife has a habit of objectifying men.” Dad joked, turning around with the pot of gnocchi to serve it into the bowls Harry got out for him. 
“I do not! That’s slander. Defamation.” Mum defended. 
“Well, I’m flattered.” Harry laughed while grabbing the bottle of wine to offer a refill, “Y/n, would you like some more?”
Truthfully it was hard for you to concentrate on anything being said because if there was one thing your mother did get right, it was that Harry was a sexy man. You had never felt the loss of your interruption more than now. His navy sweater was pushed up to his elbows and he had one hand pressed to the bench while the held the bottle in the other. All you could focus on was his tattooed forearm and the veins in his hand. He was ringless as you two were relaxing after he got home from work and there wasn’t much point putting them back on when he wanted his knuckles deep inside you at some point during the night. 
The absence of his rings did nothing to diminish his attractiveness though because somehow the missing pieces allowed your eyes to focus on his veins instead. The way they made his arm look stronger and his fingers longer… how they tensed and protruded when he gripped your thigh or your throat. All you could fucking think about was him wrapping that same veiny hand around his cock to guide it to your mouth or pussy. 
Jesus…
“y/n?” 
“Hm?” You blinked, suddenly coming back into focus, “Oh, um yeah. Yes please.” 
You sat a little taller and slid your glass towards Harry, finding a cheeky fucking smirk on his face. He said nothing, but you could read everything in his expression. Harry pressed his tongue against his cheek while pouring your wine, focused on the way you bit down on your bottom lip. It was an anxious habit you had since before you two even became friends and was one of the first things he noticed about you that drove him crazy.
Now all he wanted to do was reach against the bench and tug your lip free to correct the behaviour. Seeing you be so enthusiastic at the mention of rope and toys had him going fucking crazy and now it was all he could think about. Having you bent over against his bed while he spanked you or spread wide and tied up for him so he could overstimulate you with a vibrator. 
He was fucked. His cock was still sore as he couldn’t exactly nut one out with your mum downstairs and his mind was dizzy just at the sight of you sitting there all cozy in his sweater. You were makeup free and flushed from wine and it was one of his favourite sights. He loved you in anything really, or nothing at all, but being in your kitchen with your parents and cooking together and enjoying wine like it was a normal occurrence stirred something in him.
It stroked that box inside of him that yearned for a family. The box you had cracked open and kept open just by being you.
“Thank you.” You whispered, suddenly aching for his touch. You just wanted to cuddle into him or hold his hand or anything. 
“You’re welcome, love.” He smiled, moving onto your mum. 
“Alright, dinner’s served. Pumpkin would you mind taking these to the table?” Dad motioned to the bowl of freshly grated parmesan and the salt and pepper shakers. You nodded and grabbed the items, tucking the shakers under your arm so you could carry your wine over to the table at the same time.
Soon Dad and Harry brought the bowls of gnocchi over to the table and you were all happily chatting away. Your mum made a very strategic play of ensuring Harry sat beside you, which was quite easy when she clung to your dad like they just started dating. 
Their affection was one thing you always admired about them. Even after all this time they still hugged and kissed and showed those quiet displays of affection. A peck on the cheek or holding her chair out before she even had an opportunity to sit down in it. Cracking pepper over her food without even needing to be asked because he knew she liked it. A hand on the small of her back and him carrying her shopping bags like the thought of her lifting a single finger even in an activity she enjoyed was torturous.
It was why you found the small gestures Harry did so much more gratifying than any big ones. The every day little things he did, possibly without even thinking about them that just made you feel special and important. His good morning texts and check-ins to ask if you had eaten or drank water, which you always forgot to do in your heavy study grinds. The daily goodnight phone calls where he asked about your day, which yeah sure, bare minimum, but he just treated you like you were the most important thing on the planet. 
It was why you were so head over heels in love with him.
“Dad, I have to tell you something.” You didn’t mean to blurt it out, really. Not in the middle of everyone enjoying their gnocchi anyway but you couldn’t help it. You wanted to talk about it after dinner so if anything went pear shaped at the very least your food wasn’t ruined, but the more you thought about it the more anxious you got and you didn’t want to put it off any longer. 
“Okay…” Dad’s eyes flicked to Harry briefly and you could see the look of concern flash in his eyes. “Everything okay, y/n?”
“Yes. Yes everythings fine I just…” This time it was your turn to look at Harry, whose gaze was soft and adoring. He immediately stopped eating to gave his full attention to you and found your fingers underneath the table for support. “I’m seeing someone.”
Your dad’s eyes widened in surprise and he was quick to look at your mum, “Oh wow. Wow. Did you know about this?” 
She nodded, “Yes. Not for long though.”
“Okay… shit, okay. First boyfriend, I hope. Unless you hid another relationship from me?” His tone was light and you just coughed out an uneasy laugh in response.
“Nope. First one, Dad.”
Harry tried to hide his amusement by rubbing his spare hand over his mouth. He made brief eye contact with Jules across the table who shared a similar expression. Hers was also laced with stress, but she flashed him a smile anyway.
“Well that’s fantastic.” Dad declared, spooning another scoop of his gnocchi into his mouth. “Who is he? Do I know him?...” He spoke between chews, “Is he that boy from your birthday last year? Y’know the one I didn’t like?”
“Um no not him, but you do know him. He’s really kind and funny… even plays golf like you do.” You chuckled at the way your dad’s eyes seemed to light up at that information. The entire time you spoke Harry kept his hand in yours and smoothed his thumb over the back of your hand. “He’s sweet and has a dog-”
“You love dogs.” Dad pointed out, to which you nodded with a smile.
“I do. He treats me really well and… well, I’m really happy with him Dad. Really happy.” 
“That’s all I want for you, pumpkin, you know that.” Dad smiled at you fondly, sipping his wine. “So who is he, then? Better not be one of my boys.” He referred to his company, hoping it wasn’t one of the idiots he had working for him. They were good on the tools but for the most part had no fucking idea how to treat a woman. His daughter especially.
“It’s Harry.” 
You just had to say it. You had built up his character in hopes to make a smooth introduction, but all that happened when you brought your intertwined fingers up onto the table was dead fucking silence. The mood disappeared instantly and a whirlwind of emotions circulated in the air. Dad didn’t say anything, Harry didn’t say anything, no one said anything. 
“Dad?” You swallowed thickly after what felt like an eternity of silence, watching his eyes flick between your face, Harry’s face then your held hands on the table.
“You’re lying. This is a joke right?” Dad laughed, suddenly standing from the table. “This is just some stupid joke for tiktak or facebook or whatever, right?”
“No… Dad, it’s not a trick. I’m not lying to you.” You stood from the table, pressing your hands to the top of it to keep you steady. His immediate reaction freaked you out and you weren’t sure where it was going to go from here.
“Y/n, he’s double your age. Are you serious!?” He snapped, jaw clenched.
“I am. I am serious.”
“And you knew about this?” His head whipped to your mum, “You knew she was dating him and let it happen?” Mum didn’t get a chance to respond before he was looking back at you, eyes showing just how hurt and angry he was about your relationship. “Y/n. My office.  Now.”
He had never spoken down at you like that before. Even as a child your dad was always gentle and corrected behavior rather than yelled to tell you off. He always heard you out, always. When you wanted to move away for school he was so damn against it because he thought it was a waste when there were good schools, even better ones closer by. But he listened to you and your reasoning. 
He hadn’t even given you an opportunity to reason with him yet. 
“No.” You shook your head, watching his eyes widen in surprise at your clear disagreement. “You have always given me the benefit of the doubt, dad. Always. Just let me talk and explain. Please.”
“This is ridiculous.” Dad spat, running his hand through his hair in utter disbelief of what was going on.
“Tim, please. I’ve listened to both of them and I think you should too.” This time it was your mum’s turn to step in. She put a gentle hand on his arm and you could visibly see the way your dad started to calm down a little bit. “She’s happy.” Her tone grew soft, as did her eyes. 
“Please, Dad.”
Your Dad looked over to you, then to Harry then back to you like you were his final destination. You flashed a pleading look, one he had never resisted before. It was like the cogs were visibly turning in his head and there was another long pause before he grabbed the half-opened bottle of wine on the table and filled his glass to the brim.
He collapsed down in his chair and chugged half the glass then placed it back down on the table. You looked over at Harry and you both excganhed a look of both concern and confusion, not really sure where this was going to go.
“Alright, y/n. I’m listening.”
You spent the next half hour explaining everything. You wanted to be as honest as possible about your relationship without exposing the entire truth because you didn’t really need him knowing that you and Harry hooked up for weeks before dating. All he needed to know was that there was attraction there but you didn’t want to start anything because of the many reasons there were. And that part was the truth.
And he genuinely listened. His initial shock and disagreement for it had faded away a little bit and he was actually able to listen and ask questions and try and understand what you two had going on. You could kind of tell that everything you said just didn’t click with him, but he wasn’t reacting that way. For the most part his grilling was towards Harry and while part of you was happy to be out of the firing line, the other was worried that Harry was in it.
“So her age isn’t some weird kink of yours?” 
“Dad!” you scolded, slowly sinking down into your chair. It was like your parents had no filter. That or they just didn’t care about boundaries or how things came across.
“It’s okay, y/n.” Harry assured you, just like he did when your mum asked her death questions. Mum seemed to go worst case scenario with everything while your dad automatically assumed everyone was out to get you. It was an only child thing. “No, Tim, it isn’t. Y/n is the youngest woman I’ve ever dated in comparison to myself, yes, but that isn’t the reason I love her. In the beginning it was actually one of the reasons I didn’t want to pursue things with her but as we became friends… I realised that we had so much in common that it was hard to ignore how I felt about her. I think I knew from the moment things changed that she was different to any other woman I’ve met. There are infinite reasons I love her and care for her.”
It was question and answer just like that, and every single time Harry was able to provide some answer that had you absolutely swooning over him. Even the most awkward just fucked questions, Harry had no reaction to them. Nothing phased him. It was like he had prepared answers for everything that might come his way. 
“Okay, I’ve heard you two so now I think you should hear me.” Dad clasped his hands together and rested them on the table. “I still don’t think this is a good idea.” 
You went to protest his opinion but he quickly shut you down and glared at you. “Ah.” He tutted before continuing to speak. “I don’t think this is a good idea because he’s just too old for you, pumpkin. You two can love each other and have fun and think that this is forever, but you’re not realistic and I don’t think it’ll work in the long run. For kids, for life experiences, for everything. Your age gap will always dictate everything you do and I don’t want that for you.”
Harry grabbed your hand under the table and squeezed it tight, providing comfort you so desperately needed. Every word your dad said was just hurting you more and more. If your mum could see the potential in your relationship, why couldn’t he?
“I know you two don’t need my blessing and you’ll just keep seeing each other anyway, but I can’t agree with it.” Dad shook his head and stood up suddenly, “You’re happiness is my happiness, y/n so I won’t stay in the way, but don’t expect anything more from me than the bare minimum. Understand?”
You just nodded, a little at loss for words. It wasn’t the worst outcome in the world, but it also wasn’t the best. Your dreams of everyone getting along suddenly seemed so far away. Dad looked at you like you were still his sun, moon and stars but when he looked at Harry… it was like he hated him. A solid unwavering dislike that lasted generations and all it took was him finding out Harry was a whole lot more than your neighbour.
To think less than an hour ago your Dad and Harry were laughing like they were best friends and now… they were practically strangers.
“I understand your hesitation but I want you to know that I’d never hurt your daughter. This is the most serious I have ever been in my life about anyone and I hope one day you can see that.” Harry stood up from the table as well, extending his hand across your cold, forgotten food as a gesture of good will to your Dad. 
But all Dad did was look down at Harry’s olive branch then back up at his face. “I think it’s time for me to go to bed. I have work in the morning.” 
Harry’s hand fell to his side but he didn’t look deterred at all. If this situation was in reverse and this was Harry’s family… you’d be in tears. Dad bid goodnight to your mum as he usually did then rounded the table to hug you too. It was brief and distant enough to make your heart ache. Still, he whispered an ‘I love you’ before leaving the room without another look at Harry.
“Well…” Mum announced, grabbing the second bottle of wine that emerged on the table sometime during your discussion to pour herself another glass. She clearly wasn’t going to work tomorrow. Luckily her husband was her business partner. She took a happy sip and looked at both you and Harry over the rim. “I don’t know about you two but I think that went a lot better than I expected.”
You knew she was right, but it didn’t really feel that way. 
“He’ll come around.” Harry shrugged, starting to stack the dishes so he could take them to the kitchen. “In time.”
Yeah… in time. 
//
“Mr. Styles, you’ve got a visitor.” Sharon opened his office door, peaking in just enough for him to see her face.
He replied without looking up, focused on the document in front of him. “Who? I’ve got an appointment with Niall in 10.” 
“Y/n? She said you’ll make time for her.” 
Yeah fucking right he was going to make time for her. His eyes snapped to hers quickly and she could see how his irritation had disappeared into thin air. 
“Do you want me to bring her in?” She continued, pointing behind her. 
Trying to hide his excitement, he set his pen down and quickly stood up, buttoning up his suit jacket. “No. I’ll go and get her.”
She had a mischievous smile playing on her lips and flashed a knowing look to her boss, someone she managed to create a pleasant working relationship with. 
“She must be special for you to go get her yourself.” There was a slight tease in her tone as she walked alongside Harry down the hall to where you were standing in the small waiting lounge. You hadn’t been back since that day Harry took you to Pleasing. You had often met in the city for lunch but never at his office. This time you wanted to surprise him. 
“What did I tell you about speculating about my personal life?” His tone was humorous, but Sharon knew he was being serious. 
“Right. Sorry. You just never have anyone visit.”
“I’m kidding, Sharon. She’s very special. She’s the love of my life.”
A soft smile played on her lips. Harry was a serious guy basically all the time. Seeing him look so happy was a nice change. She had noticed that he seemed happier recently too and more relaxed at work than usual. “Let me know if you need anything cancelled.” 
“Thank you.” His thanks was brief, a murmur like he didn’t mean the words because there you were sitting all pretty on one of the sofas scrolling away at your phone. You had one of the tote bags Harry bought you beside you and it looked full to the brim. It was one of the bags you two had matching, as were the pair of gazelles on your feet. You saw them in an ad online and told Harry how much you liked them and he was quick to order you a pair. You didn’t show them to him so he’d buy them for you but he liked to spoil you. They were cheap and Harry quite liked the look of them as well so he decided to buy himself a pair too. 
You always got so shy when he bought you something, always grateful. When he asked you why you got like that, you explained it wasn’t the item, but the thought behind it. He noticed everything to the point you were convinced he was writing notes or had tabs on your browser history because he was always showing up with something you made a passing comment about. 
Even the very same shoes you had on your feet. He showed up to his routine night at your house wearing his and was like a giddy kid giving you the box with your own pair in it. 
“Oh my god, you got the shoes! They look so good on you.” You beamed, eyes immediately drawn to his feet. They were the third thing you noticed about him. After his pretty face, his pretty mouth and those black joggers he wore when he wanted to be super comfy. They always managed to turn you on a crazy amount. 
Harry knew that too of course.
“I got you a pair too.” He smiled widely, practically throwing his overnight bags on your bed so he could open one of them to take out the shoe box. You thought you were bad with the amount of shit you took with you on your sleepovers, but no, Harry was just as bad. Worse even. He had some comfy clothes stashed at your place but if he was staying a weekend he always brought multiple outfit options and his entire stash of toiletries. 
It was sexy. You felt like a rich housewife when you laid on your bed watching him get dressed while he asked for your opinion on everything. 
“You didn’t!” Your mouth gaped in shock, grabbing onto the shoe box to open it. You didn’t expect to find the exact same pair as Harry’s inside, but it was a pleasant surprise to find that he had gone out and bought matching shoes for you two. It was possibly the cutest thing ever. “Matching shoes?” You smiled, looking up at him from the box.
He suddenly appeared very shy, like the very idea of being one of those couples who had matching clothes and outfits was a stupid idea. A sheepish expression flashed over his face and he tucked his hands behind his back like a dog tucked their tail between their legs. “Yeah… but if you don’t like them I can return them. Or even if you don’t like the colour we can swap th-” 
You interrupted him by chucking the box on your bed and pulling his face down to yours to give him a big thank-you kiss. “I love them.” You assured him before kissing him again. He smiled into it, wrapping his arms around your body to lean back and lift you off the floor until your tippy toes skimmed the rug. “Thanks for being the best sugar daddy ever.” 
Harry’s laugh broke the kiss while he set you back down on the floor. “Does that mean I get sugar in return then? Since I bought you shoes and dinner.” He let his hands crawl down to your ass, squeezing your cheeks through your leggings with both hands.
“Fuck off.” You hit his chest, trying to act like you didn’t want to give him sugar when in reality you had been waiting to see him all day in hopes he was horny. He usually was. “I’m not an object. You can’t buy me.”
“I can’t?” He raised a brow, “I saw you look at my cock the moment I walked in, y/n. Had you in the palm of my hand just because I wore the sweatpants you like.” Harry had this cocky shit-eating grin on his face that made you want to hit him. Because he was right. All it took was a simple pair of (expensive) sweatpants and you were ready to spread your legs for him. And he brought shoes and dinner? Maybe you could be bought.
Who were you kidding, you definitely could be bought. 
“You’re annoying.” You huffed, grabbing the collar of his to pull him in for a kiss. It only lasted a second before you pulled back, rolling your eyes at the pure look of satisfaction on his face. “Just because you’re right this time doesn’t mean you’re right all the time.”
“No?” He ran his tongue over his teeth, using his hands on your ass so he could pick you up and set you down on the bed. “You want to test that theory?” 
You watched as he smoothly shoved all his belongings (and your shoes) off the bed before taking his sweatshirt and t-shirt off in one go. He grabbed the back of both collars near his neck to do so and fuck. You never understood why it was so sexy when men removed their shirts like that and yet it had you sweating.
“I’m up for some experimentation...”
The sight of you standing from the sofa broke him free from the memory, which was probably best because you were wearing those jeans that made your ass look incredible and the memory associated to them was heading down a reverse cowgirl lane. He didn’t exactly want to be getting hard in the middle of his office. 
“Hi.” You beamed, quickly tucking your phone into your back pocket and slinging your bag over your shoulder. 
“Hi…” Harry beamed, immediately drawing you in for a tight hug. You smiled into it, careful not to get makeup on his expensive suit. “What are you doing here? Don’t you have classes today?” He asked, pulling back while letting his hands rest on your hips. 
“I skipped.” You shrugged, “It was just a lecture anyway and I wanted to finish work off at home. I wanted to surprise you too.” You smiled softly, resting your hands on his chest. 
“I’m so happy you’re here, baby. Truly.” he squeezed your hips, biting down on his bottom lip as his expression turned almost painful. “But Niall will be here in five minutes... I can cancel, though. I will cancel.” 
“About that…” you looked away for a moment, making brief eye contact with a random girl at her desk who seemed far more interested in you and Harry than her work. “I’m Niall.”
“Since when?” He shot back, laughing softly. “No. Seriously. Since when?”
“Stop.” You protested, poking his chest at his teasing. “I wanted to make sure we had time and… well it was kind of fun, actually.” You admitted, watching his eyes twinkle at your admission, “I even called pretending to be his assistant.”
Harry laughed loudly, head tilting back in that gorgeous wide smile that you adored of his. His happiness seemed to capture the attention of anyone nearby and you suddenly felt quite overwhelmed with all the eyes on you two. You didn’t particularly dress up to see him and compared to everyone else in their business attire, you looked extremely casual and young. 
“You could’ve just texted me, baby. I would’ve made time for you.” 
He was so free with his affection for you. So willing to show you off. He wasn’t hiding that you two were a couple or even toning anything down. It made you feel so special. So important. 
It felt so free knowing that your parents knew about him. Even if Dad was pretty against it, mum was happy for you. She was happy that you finally found someone who you deemed worthy to date you and who made you happy and one was better than none. 
You were just so scared to tell them about the trip. Knowing that your mum was willing to accept your relationship made the whole world of difference but your anxiety was at an all time high. Now that everything was in the open, it felt like you two could move on to the next stage of your relationship as well as the next steps Harry had to take with his family situation. While it was his family and a problem that existed before you two even met, you were going to be there on the trip for him in whatever capacity he needed. 
You didn’t want to get involved because families could be so messy and it truly wasn’t your place, but you wanted to support him. You were going to support him.
“Yeah, but then it wouldn’t have been a surprise.” You replied in a ‘duh’ tone before widening your tote bag to show him its contents. “See. I brought sushi for lunch.”
After everything he’s been doing for you to get ready for your trip, you felt like it was a nice gesture to bring him lunch as a bit of a thank you. It wasn’t the end of your gratitude and not the first thank you, but it was a start. Harry was even going as far as offering his credit card to you for any pre-trip shopping as well as a designated shopping day to buy you anything you may need. He knew you well enough to know you were already looking for new dresses and swimsuits and options on options for clothing and wanted to cover all of it. He bought you things he thought you’d like (or selfishly just because he wanted to see you in them) and had already sat through a clothing haul and it had barely been a week since he booked your flight. 
He just loved to spend his money on you. It was almost a turn-on for him to see you enjoy the fruits of his labour. A dress he thought you’d look pretty in or a pair of shoes you had your eye on. He liked to keep your belly full and your heart happy and wanted nothing more than for you to be taken care of in any way. It wasn’t to diminish your hard work or make you feel like you couldn’t afford the things you wanted, just because he fucking loved you more than anything. 
You felt a little bad that he was covering the trip, especially since your flight was booked much later than it should’ve been and ended up being quite pricey (not that he let you know the exact price anyway) but you could also tell that Harry was happy to pay for it. He showed genuine pleasure and excitement for it and there wasn’t a hint of him that felt apprehension or like you somehow owed him for the trip. He was happy that you were joining him, no matter the cost.
You used that happiness of his to try and not feel as guilty for the trip. When you told your friends about it they thought you were crazy for ever feeling guilty in the first place. Before you two even started sleeping together, you’d fantasise about having a rich man buy you nice things and take you wherever you wanted and now that it was actually happening, you felt anxious about it.
But you wanted to enjoy it and you obviously would when you were in the Italian sun with a spritz in one hand and an ice cream in the other… you just needed to give back a little. You had your eye on a nice shirt for him and already started researching restaurants to go to in Italy that you could treat him to. You promised yourself you’d take him to one fancy, romantic dinner and what better place than the home to pizza and gelato?
Harry’s eyes beamed literal hearts as he squeezed your hips and leaned in to kiss you. It was a little unexpected since Harry was very particular about his job and you two were in the middle of his office, but it was a good unexpected. It was gentle, innocent, a loving peck before he pulled back and smiled down at you.
“I love you so much.” 
“I love you too.” You blushed, not really used to the amount of PDA you two were doing right now. 
“Come on.” He nudged, smirking at your shy reaction. “We’ll go eat in my office.” 
He let you walk slightly ahead of him but kept his hand on your lower back to guide you to the right place. Last time you were here you didn’t get inside his office so you had no idea where you were going.  
“Can’t believe you’re here. I missed you.” He murmured, shutting the door behind you two and then immediately grabbing your face to kiss you properly. A peck simply wasn’t enough. After the full-on week you two had, he had missed this. Missed you. He hated when things were complicated and spending time with you like a normal couple was his favourite thing in the world. 
“I missed you too.” You giggled, clutching onto the lapels of his suit jacket while kissing him multiple times. He smiled into the kiss and kissed a few kisses down your jaw to your neck. A pretty little pant whimpered into his ear and that’s when he had to stop himself before he got too ahead of himself. 
“Come on, baby. Sit next to me.” He smiled, grabbing your bag from you and setting it down on his desk. “How’s your day been?” 
“Boring.” You groaned, watching him beeline to one of the arm chairs in front of his desk so he could drag it beside his wheely chair, “I finished one of my smaller assignments last night and today I worked on one of my final ones. It’s literally due next week and worth like 40% of my grade and I feel like I’ll never get it done in time. I’ve barely studied for my exams either and I just feel so shit. I’m over it.” You whined out the complaint, feeling like your head was going to explode.
You had so many things on your mind at once, it was hard to keept track of it all. There was so much left to do for your trip but you barely had any time for it all and you still needed to deep clean your apartment before you left. Most of your clothes were there, but you had so much at your parents’ too that you needed to go through and they didn’t even know about the trip yet. You felt like you were going to be in such a rush towards the end.
Luckily Harry had taken care of practically all the travel essentials, so all you needed to worry about was packing. It still felt like a mammoth of a task when you were swamped with everything else going on in your life. 
“I know it’s hard, baby but you’re doing so well,” Harry praised, pulling his nice chair out for you to sit down. “You’ve been working so hard and you’re so close,” he let you sit down before pushing the chair in for you before sitting down beside you, “You just have to stick it out a bit more. It’s only two weeks.” 
“I know.” You sighed, helping him to unpack the food you bought from your tote bag. “Everything’s happening so fast, I just feel so unprepared.”
“Well you’ve got me to help, okay? So just focus on your studies and I’ll help you with everything else. We’ve got time and all the important things are taken care of. I’ll help you clean your place and pack and whatever else you need. Don’t stress.” He assured you, giving you a comforting squeeze on your knee.
“Thank you,” You smiled, squeezing his chin to bring him in for a quick peck before you looked at the array of trays and small bites you grabbed to share with him. It was what you usually did when you went out to eat so you two could try a little bit of everything. “My mum called too…”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah… she was talking about you again. It’s all she talks about and she’s always asking if I’ve seen you recently. I’m pretty sure it’s because she’s jealous I see you more than her.” You laughed.
“I keep bumping into her on my morning runs more than usual. I have a feeling its on purpose.” Harry laughed in return.
“Yeah that sounds like her…” 
“And your dad?” He nudged your shoulder, “I haven’t seen him since we had dinner. Is he coming around to the idea of us yet?”
“He is. Sort of. I don’t know, Harry, he seems a bit distant towards me. We usually call every couple of days and he’s still doing it but it… feels different. I haven’t even told them about the trip and I don’t want to put it off but I feel like he’ll be really upset.” 
“You haven’t told them yet?” Harry blinked, “Y/n we spoke about this. You were meant to tell them over the weekend.” He sighed, almost like he was disappointed in you. You both agreed that you had to tell them sooner rather than later. You wanted to give your dad a few days to process your relationship before telling him because you couldn’t really leave it any longer than that. 
It was just shit timing. The trip was coming so fast and your parents found out about you two so close to when you were leaving. Way too close. 
“I know. I know.” You replied, groaning a little. “It’s just shit timing.”
“I know, y/n, and they might be upset about it but we leave in two weeks. You need to tell them.” He stressed. You hated when he spoke to you like that. It wasn’t rude or condescending in any way but you could tell he was a little annoyed about it. He had every right to be because this was something you had to do and you didn’t want to fight about it or start anything unnecessarily when you were in the wrong. 
You also just didn’t have the energy to deal with it.  
“I hate when you’re right. It’s annoying.” You sighed, trying to lighten the mood by laughing softly. Harry knew this was a conversation that didn’t end here, but he could sense your reluctance in it all. He was happy to entertain a small break from it, but it seriously was something that had to be dealt with. 
“Well I get it from my mum so if I’m annoying so is she.” Harry smirked, expertly picking up a piece of sashimi with his chopsticks before popping it into his mouth. 
“No, never! Anne is like a ray of sunshine. She can be right whenever she wants” 
“And I can’t ?” He laughed, “that seems unfair.”
Harry wasn’t sure why the sound of his mother’s name on your lips made his heart beat so goddamn fast, but he nearly dropped the sushi from his mouth at how casual and normal it was. He loved it. Adored it. He hoped that you two meeting in person would be as successful as it was via Zoom. 
Harry also hoped that her concerns for your relationship would disappear once you two were face to face. You’d have ample opportunity to spend time together on your trip and he hoped that it would solidify what you two had. The future you two had. 
Anne’s concerns were valid and Harry knew that it was something that would come up time and time again with everyone that met you. 
“She’s just so… young. She’s a gorgeous girl and so sweet, I can see why you like her but are you being realistic? I just don’t want you getting hurt, H,” Anne sighed through the phone, “Young women want to be free and I just don’t want you two to get a year, two years in and you’re ready to slow down while she’s just getting started. It wouldn’t be fair to either of you.” 
“I love her, Mum and if anything her age has been better for me. I feel like I'm enjoying my life in a way that’s completely different from when I was single. I’m learning so many things and so is she. It hasn’t been easy by any means, but it’s working.” 
“Well, as long as you’re sure…”
“I am.” 
“I saw she’s wearing my necklace too,” She continued after a beat of silence, “She must mean a lot to you.”
“She does, mum. She means everything to me. I can’t explain it but I just know she’s my forever.”
“Well it’s nice to see you so happy. It’s been a long time since you’ve smiled so much. I missed it.”
“I missed it too.”
“You’re just saying it’s unfair because I’m on her side and not yours.” You grinned, breaking him free from his daze. 
“If this is going to be another Archie situation where my mother loves you more than me…” he waved his chopsticks towards you, making you giggle. 
“Oh it absolutely will be. I’ve been texting her y’know. We follow each other on Instagram now.” 
“You’re kidding.” He gawked, all wide eyed. 
“Nope. When she found out I was coming to England she was so excited.” 
“Yeah I’m sure. You’re her favourite and she’s only known you for a week.” Harry sighed dramatically, eliciting a little shove of his arm. He grinned and squished your face to draw you in for a kiss, loving the way he could taste and feel every emotion you two were feeling in that moment. Words could lie but a kiss never could. 
“I’m serious though, y/n...” He murmured against your lips before pulling away while keeping his hand on your jaw. His thumb brushed against your cheek, caressing your soft skin. “You need to tell them tonight.”
“I’m scared.” You whispered. “I’m going either way, obviously, but I’m so worried they’ll be really upset with me. You know I hate upsetting them.” 
“I know baby, I get it.” Harry dropped his hand from your cheek and relaxed back to his chair. “The timing is shit and I know if this trip was in a couple of months it would be easier for them to handle, but this is your life, y/n. We’ve done nothing wrong by going on a trip and I’m sure if they can accept our relationship, they can deal with a holiday. You’re an adult and so am I.”
“Maybe you’re right...”  
“Baby all we did was fall in love.” He sensed your apprehension and wanted to try and convince you otherwise. He tipped your chin towards him so you were looking at him before grabbing both of your hands in his. “Your dad might not be happy with us dating or going overseas or any of it but I can make him understand. I know deep down that all he wants is for you to be happy and… I can prove that to him. You’re important to me, y/n. The most important person in my life.” He reached out to fiddle with the little pearls around your neck. Your breath hitched in your throat, feeling all kinds of nervous at his words. “If I were a father, all I’d want for my little girl is to know she was being loved and cared for. That she’s happy. No matter who she’s dating.” 
Harry wasn’t sure where it came from, putting himself in the role of a father. He could’ve phrased it in a different way, in any other way and yet it felt so right to imagine himself like that. Barely three months into being in a relationship with you and he somehow felt different about everything. 
It scared the hell out of him. 
“I am happy. I am.” Your eyes softened, glossing over ever so slightly. You squeezed his hand in both of yours,. “And I know you’re right. I just want us to skip to the good part where we’re together with our families, y’know. I loved meeting your mum and even just having dinner with you and my parents was amazing… before I opened my mouth.” You laughed softly but it was over before it even started because you just found yourself overcome with so much emotion. Through everything, Harry never failed to know what to say or how to make you feel better. It sometimes felt like he had a read on you before you even knew what you were feeling. “I just want us to be happy.” You whispered, reaching up to cup his face, “I love you so much Harry. I’ve never felt like this, ever. You’re my person. I want everyone to know that.”
You’re my person. 
You’re. My. Person. 
Harry repeated the phrase in his mind over and over, nearly bursting at the seams with how much love he felt towards you. You were his person too. Through and through. From the moment he met you he just knew there was something different about you which is why he was always drawn to you. And now he had the words for it. 
You were his person. 
Harry cupped your face and pulled you in for a deep kiss, one that expressed every single emotion he felt for you. He could taste the sushi and soy sauce on your lips but he couldn’t care less. He was happy and the boring day he was having suddenly turned into the best day. 
“You’re my person too.” He breathed, panting slightly from how long the kiss had gone. “Have been from the moment I met you. I just didn’t know it.” 
You didn’t know what to do with yourself. There was something about Harry being romantic and professing his affection that got you so unbelievably riled up, you couldn’t contain it. You couldn’t switch it off and while you could pretend it wasn’t happening or ignore the fact you already had a heartbeat between your legs, you didn’t want to.
Things were left so unfinished the other night and you always did wonder what it would be like to be bent over Harry’s desk…
“Harry I mean this so seriously, if you keep talking like that….” You breathed, watching the way his heart-eyes heated up and turned into something dark and smoldering. 
“What?” He grinned, cocking his head. “If I keep talking like that ‘what’?”
He was teasing you, trying to coax you into admitting what he already knew you wanted. 
“I won’t be able to stop myself…”
“Then don’t” Harry smirked, letting one hand slide down to loop around your neck so he could pull you in to kiss him again. You whimpered softly into his mouth, cupping his jaw while practically melting into his touch. Your other hand fell to his thigh, squeezing it in your palm while your mouths molded together in a kiss so intense your body was floating.
Were you really going to have sex right here? 
Yeah. Fuck it.
 “Baby.” He groaned against your mouth, forcing himself to pull away from you. Your chest was rising and falling quickly and all he wanted to do was get a handful of your breasts. To tug at your pebbled nipples that he could see so fucking clearly due to the soft cups of the bra you were wearing. At this point he knew exactIy what your tits looked like in all different types of bras. 
Stifling back a moan, he slid his hand back up to cup your cheek while running his thumb over your mouth. Your lips were swollen, all pink and pretty and so delicious it was almost painful to not dive back in and kiss you. “We need to stop if you don’t want things to go further.” 
“Who says I don’t want things to go further?” you breathed, grabbing onto his spare hand to bring it up to your chest. Your hand pressed over his until he squeezed a good handful of your breast, running his finger over your hard nipple. Shit. “Please.” 
“Go lock the door.” He murmured, standing up quickly out of his chair while shrugging off his suit jacket. 
You beelined to the door, thankful for the big oak doors Harry’s position afforded him. It didn’t mean you had total privacy. Walls were thin and he had huge glass windows on one side of the office. Anyone could see you two and someone could most definitely hear you.
Which is why you had to be quiet and quick. 
Harry met you halfway, crossing the floor in three quick strides to grab your face and kiss you again. Everything was happening so quickly. You were unbuttoning his pants and pulling his dress shirt out of his pants while he guided you backwards towards the small couch he had against one wall. Harry would’ve liked to bend you over his desk, but it was covered in your uneaten sushi and he had a feeling both of you would be starving after your quick fuck.
He almost couldn’t believe it was happening until he remembered all the moments you two practiced exhibitionism before. In his pool, his car and on the boat during your weekend away. He had no doubt it would happen again, most likely at Pleasing where you two could really explore all the things you wanted to. 
Harry sat back on the couch, keeping your mouths connected while he undid your jeans button and zipper. It was such an effort wearing jeans and you suddenly regretted wearing pants at all. You quickly made a mental note to wear something easier to remove if you were ever visiting Harry for ‘lunch’ again.
“Why did I have to wear jeans?” You groaned, helping him shove them down your legs to quicken the process before you stepped out of them. 
“Don’t wear pants next time.” He breathed, grabbing the back of your thighs to guide you down to straddle him. 
“I won’t.” You agreed desperately, threading your fingers through his hair while kissing him to try and keep yourself quiet. You could feel the hard length of his cock the moment you straddled him, all long and thick. You could hardly wait to get him inside you, not when he had said such romantic things and looked so fucking hot in his suit.
There was something so sexy about his workwear and now that you were straddling him in nothing but your sneakers, underwear and t shirt and he was still practically fully dressed… it had never been hotter. 
“You’re so hard.” You murmured, tilting your head back to gasp as he grinded your pussy against his cock. 
His fingers were dug so hard into your ass you knew you’d be feeling the touch for days. He’d probably come over straight from work and fuck you again, making it known how hot he finds the fresh bruises on your pretty skin. Then he’d take nice care of you and massage your skin, rub cream into the marks and kiss you everywhere until you were reduced to a sleepy mess. 
“And you’re so wet. Did telling you I love you really turn you on this much?” Harry smirked, nipping at your neck. He tucked his work pants down to his thighs when he sat down on the couch so you wouldn’t make a mess of them and he was glad he did so. You were soaked. A sticky mess that had fully soaked through both your underwear and his until his cock felt warm with your arousal. 
“I like to be romanced.” You smiled, nipping at his bottom lip. “Being sentimental gets me wet, what can I say?”
“Yeah? Maybe I need to do it more often then.” He murmured, pushing your t shirt up until it bunched over your tits. He cupped one of them, keeping firm eye contact with you while running his thumb over your nipple until he pushed the thin lace material of your bra down to expose it. “Tell you how my heart skips a beat when I see you. How fairies are born when you laugh?”
He was only teasing, but there was nothing teasing about the way he wrapped his mouth around your nipple and sucked, tugging at it between his teeth until you were holding back a loud moan. That was torture. “You’re ridiculous.” 
“Am I? You’re saying that you don’t feel your pretty cunt flutter when I tell you how my life would be incomplete without you?” He cocked his head, watching the way your eyes glazed over as he continued grinding you over his dick. You could already feel that tingle in your belly and it had barely been two minutes of grinding on him. “Or would you prefer I tell you how badly I need to pump you full of my cum? How you’re a needy little slut for begging me to fuck you right here when anyone could walk in on us?”
And he felt it. He felt the way you clenched against him. How the heartbeat between your legs increased at the first few words of degradation.
“That I love you more for it…” He had this shit eating grin on his face and was happy to nip at your nipple and grind your clit against him until you were a poor tense little thing on top of him. “That did it, didn’t it, baby?”
“I need your cock. Please.” You whispered, dragging his head from your breast upwards so you could kiss him again. He smirked into your mouth and lifted your hips off him, making you rest on your knees instead of his lap so he could untuck his cock from his briefs. 
The moment his cock was free he dragged you back down and dipped his fingers between your bodies to nudge your underwear to the side so he had free access to you. “Y’want my fingers?” He offered, knowing it would sting to take him with no prep. Harry knew you liked that, but he also couldn’t assume it’s what you wanted.
The haste shake of your head was all he needed to guide his cock to your entrance, making sure to muffle your quiet whimper by his own mouth while letting you take lead and drop down at your own pace. You had no issues being quiet by yourself. You could make yourself cum dozens of times and barely moan so no one would hear and yet the second you were with Harry all you wanted to do was make noise.
Maybe it was because he always encouraged it. That he loved the way you moaned his name and screamed for him. Or maybe it was because no vibrator or dildo could compare to the feeling of his hard cock splitting you open. The way his veins felt going inside you and how it was attached to the hottest man on the planet.
Your vibrator didn’t wrap its arms around you and your dildo certainly didn’t kiss you filthily and grab your ass to encourage you to take it. They didn’t grab your hips and bounce you or wrap their mouths around your nipples to deliver that bite of pain Harry knew would get you off quicker. 
Because this was a quickie and the moment you had his entire cock deep inside you Harry was pulling out all the tricks to get you to finish quicker. He had no issues orgasming fast, nor did he have issues holding himself back to make it last longer. But you… he needed you to finish first when he was inside you and that wouldn’t change just because you two were having a quickie.
“Shit. Shit, Harry.” You gasped, rocking your hips back and forth to grind his cock against your g-spot. With every back and forth movement, your clit rubbed against the trimmed hairs at the base of his cock, the material of his boxers adding extra friction that hit you so much harder than usual. 
“I know. I know. Being so good for me. Y’ride me so fucking well, baby.” He whispered, fisting the hair at the back of your head to kiss you again. 
It was all gasps and slapping skin and sloppy kisses that were way too loud. If anyone came close to the door they’d know exactly what you were doing but neither of you seemed to care. You were both just trying to reach your highs while keeping your moans to a minimum. 
What never stopped though was his filthy fucking dirty talk. Right in your ear when he kissed your neck and rumbled into your mouth when your lips brushed together while you two tried to catch your breaths. It was why you finished so fast. Why your first orgasm tumbled over you barely two minutes into riding him, then a second under two minutes after. Everything about the situation was so hot and you were so beyond turned on it felt easy for your body to respond to every touch and every word. Every utter of I love you.
You severely underestimated the ability for those three little words to cause so much love and so much arousal all at once. 
“You’re unbelievable.” Harry breathed out a laugh while tucking himself back into his boxers, watching you hastily pull your jeans back on.
“Me? You’re the one telling me fairies are born when I laugh. In the middle of sex too.” You laughed, running your fingers through your hair. 
“I wasn’t exactly lying.” He flirted, grabbing your chin with a cheesy smile before he kissed you. “I love you.”
“I love you.” You repeated earnestly. 
“Did that make you wet?” He asked, already expecting the roll of your eyes. 
“You’re an idiot. Now sit back down, I’m going to go pee and clean up quickly.” You poked his chest and went to grab your phone then walked to the door.
“Yes, ma’am.” He mock saluted, returning in his chair by the time you unlocked the office door. “Do you know where the bathroom is?”
“Yeah. We passed it on the way to your office. Now don’t eat everything.”
“You better hurry up then.” He teased, shoving a piece of a california roll into his mouth. You rolled your eyes again and left his office, shutting the door behind you on your way out. 
Harry’s office was the last door at the end of a hallway. There were a few closed offices on the way, then the bathrooms were closest to the waiting area. It was a short walk, barely 20m between you and your destination which was a blessing considering the cold cum slowly soaking into your undewear. A quick wipe with a tissue wasn’t enough with the amount of cum he filled you with. Which was why it never occurred to you that you’d run into anyone you knew. 
You knew there was a possibility, given Harry worked with his friends and… Ethan, but it just didn’t cross your mind because they all worked in different areas and you were a little preoccupied with the mess between your legs. Their jobs overlapped but the only reason they spent so much time together was because they were friends. Otherwise the overlaps could be handled by a third party. 
Wednesday’s were Harry’s meeting heavy days and often the day he chose to work at home. They were usually via zoom anyway which is why you chose today to come visit him. He’d be busy with meetings and you booked a slot. You knew he was avoiding any work with Ethan and when it couldn’t be avoided, Harry would get someone else to deal with it. 
As bad as it sounded… you were just trying to forget about it all. Or at the very least deal with what happened without dwelling on it. You had shut it out of your mind, ignoring the big part of you that wanted him to pay for what he did. You knew it was a bad coping mechanism but it was better than dwelling on the fact that you couldn’t get him on any charges. With the way he did everything there was no paper trail or evidence so you couldn’t exactly do anything without it being a he-say, she-say situation. 
You trusted that Harry was still devising a way to get him out of your lives for good, but for now you were just focusing on working on your relationship supporting him when he had a particularly rough Ethan day. It wasn’t a long term solution by any means, but you couldn’t exactly do anything about it. You had the pictures and he was leaving you alone, that was good enough. 
So when you were distracted replying to a message on your phone and a body was distracted by a folder in their hand, you didn’t see them until your shoulders bumped. 
“Oh my god, I’m so so-” The words got caught in your throat, eyes widening at the sight of Ethan in front of you.
“No worries babe, should’ve looked where I was-” he replied on autopilot until he actually looked at you and an arrogant pig-like expression morphed onto his face. “Well if it isn’t little y/n. What brings you here?”
In a split second time seemed to freeze. You couldn’t speak, you couldn’t hear. Suddenly the world around you was blurring into fuzzy shapes and black dots. All you could think about was the intimate photos he had of you for weeks. How he had a list of people with copies, most who probably saw them and how he probably got off to them and got off on the fact that Harry was reduced to nothing and had to pay thousands of dollars just to protect you. To get you back. 
You weren’t even sure Ethan knew that you and Harry were together, but you knew damn well he revelled in the fact you two had to break up. That he ruined your relationship. 
But you couldn’t say any of that even if you wanted to because the world was starting to close around you and you felt this pressure on your chest that became suffocating. It was like air ceased to exist and you feared that if you didn’t get away from him you’d die on the ground right at his feet. 
You said nothing and ran past him, ignoring his confused ‘what the fuck?’ that you somehow felt rattling in every corner of your brain. Stumbling, you shoved your way into the women’s bathroom and headed straight to a stall so you could sit down. 
You barely made it, collapsing onto the closed toilet seat so you wouldn’t pass out. Your whole body was trembling and it was like you were burning from the inside while simultaneously freezing all over. You had never experienced anything like it and even though you were trying to control your breathing, trying so fucking hard, nothing was working. 
With every breath the air became thinner, every tremble you sweat harder. All you could think about was your naked body being in the hands of a stranger, someone who had no permission or right and willingly paid to view you in your most vulnerable state. You couldn’t get it out of your head or your heart or your body. 
You were panicking. 
And then you felt it, a brief moment of fresh air and crystal clear vision before your lungs closed again. There was a commotion outside the bathroom, two muffled voices that made no sense to you. Then a second later the door was slamming open and you recognised the voice of your lover in his own panic. 
“Y/n? Baby where are you?” 
You tried to open your mouth and yell out to him but all that came out was a muffled gasp. It didn’t matter whether you yelled to him or not though because he was slamming each stall door open until he found you and when he did he fell to his knees in front of you, right on the dirty bathroom floor. But he didn’t care, not one fucking bit when you were sitting on the toilet looking like you were about to die. 
“Oh god, baby. Look at me. Just look at me, okay?” He soothed, cupping your face to try and get your eyes to focus on him. 
He knew exactly what was happening. He didn’t know why or how exactly but he figured it had something to do with the bastard he passed on the way to find you. Right now though, none of that mattered. Not when you were having a full blown panic attack right in front of him for the first time in your life. You must’ve been so scared and being scared and panicked was only going to make it worse. He knew that. 
“Sharon, I need water.” He called over his shoulder. “And a towel please and you need to make sure no one comes in here, okay?” 
You heard her muffled reply before he was looking right at you again. “Look at me, y/n. Come on.” He encouraged, running his thumbs over your cheeks. You finally looked at him, tears streaming down your cheeks. “Good girl. That’s it. It’s okay. It’s okay, y/n. You’re safe and nothings going to happen to you, okay? I’m right here.” Shit. “I’m right here.”
“It’s… I can’t-I can’t breathe.” You whimpered, clawing at your own chest to articulate how horrible you were feeling. 
“I know. I know but it’s okay. You’re okay.” His voice was so calm, so steady. You appreciated that. He gently took your hands in his so you wouldn’t hurt yourself and cradled them so his chest. Using one to keep them there, he used the other to grab the back of your neck gently to pull you forward so your foreheads were pressed together. “Just breathe with me, okay? Try and match my breathing.”
“I can’t. I can’t.” You protested, closing your eyes while a pitiful whimper slipped in the small space separating your mouths. You panted desperately, breathing through your small cries while hugging onto his body in hopes that his warmth and calm presence would help you. 
“I know it’s hard, but you can do it. Just try, baby. You can do it.” He was trying to encourage you and stay calm. The last thing you needed was feeling any stress or panic from him because that would just make the entire situation worse. But god it was so fucking hard. Feeling your body tremble and watching your pretty face in so much pain was horrible. But he had to stay strong and he just wanted to get you better so he could take you home. It was his only concern. 
“Deep breath in, y/n. In… out…” 
Harry closed his eyes for a single moment, collecting himself before opening them again to watch you while he guided your breathing again. He kept his tone soft and even, guiding you through it until you seemed to be breathing easier. Your trembling started to cease and you were no longer a stiff board in his arms. You were able to relax into his touch, slumping against him with your forehead on his shirt. 
“That’s it. You did so well, baby. Love you so much.” He soothed, letting his lips brush against your head while he ran his hands over your back.
You didn’t respond, but he took how pliant you were becoming in his arms as a good sign. The bathroom door swung open a moment later and Sharon was rushing in with a plastic cup of water and a damp hand towel. She passed them to Harry and wordlessly left once Harry thanked her to guard the door to give you two some privacy. 
“Here…” Harry nudged your chin, “Can you drink this?” He held your chin in a gentle grip, feeling like his heart was going to shatter just at the sight of your teary eyes and puffy cheeks. You grabbed the cup from him and started to take shaky sips from it, closing your eyes when he grabbed the damp towel to dab your face. 
The two of you remained like that for a while. You weren’t exactly sure how long. Harry just kept rubbing your back and using the cool temperature of the towel to try and calm your splotchy skin. You didn’t say anything and neither did Harry, but even if you wanted to, you had nothing to say. Your mind was blank and if anything… all you wanted to do was go home.
You had never felt so emotionally drained and numb all at the same time. It was like all your compartmentalisation and bad coping skills had suddenly given way and let everything in all at once. There was so much going on in your brain that it all cancelled each other out until you felt absolutely nothing but pure exhaustion and… anger. You were tired and angry and numb and everything was so fucking confusing you didn’t know what was what, just that you were over it.
“Do you want to talk about it?” Harry asked softly, speaking the first words for what felt like an hour. You weren’t sure why it jarred you so much to hear him ask that but you took that as a sign that you needed to go home. You didn’t want to be in this office any longer than you had to be and as bad as it was… you didn’t want to be near Harry either. 
You went from needing him and feeling like his presence and his calm was the only way you could breathe to feeling suffocated just by being near him. You didn’t understand it when it wasn’t his fault but somehow felt like he was the one to blame. It was unfair.
It was also unfair to have photos taken of you in your most vulnerable state then be threatened with them. It was unfair to have your boyfriend work with the man who did that to you and suffer no consequences for his actions. Even if Harry did have a plan, you just didn’t fucking understand how he could stand being in the same building as him. 
The last thing you wanted was saying something you’d regret because your mind wasn’t clear so it felt like the right decision to go home by yourself, even if you already knew Harry would want to drive you and make sure you got home alright. 
“No… um, no I don’t think so.” You shook your head and pressed your hand to the wall of the stall to help you stand up. Your legs were cramped and shaky from being sat down for so long and the rest of you felt like you had a 50kg weight tied to every muscle in your body.  
Harry’s brows furrowed, and he quickly stood up as well. There was a switch in your demeanor that he didn’t like. A distant, almost… cold shift that he had only seen in the very beginning of your relationship when he fucked everything up. But he hadn’t done anything so to see you become so withdrawn sent alarm bells ringing everywhere. 
“That’s okay, you don’t… you don’t have to.” Harry exhaled a deep breath and squeezed the towel in his hand, “I know it’s hard but it is good to talk about it. I’m here when you’re ready.”
“Thank you.” You smiled softly, crushing the plastic cup in your hand. The sound echoed around the bathroom and it felt entirely too loud for how intense the situation was. 
Harry attempted to reach out and give you a comforting squeeze on your arm but was only met with rejection when you shifted your shoulder back to avoid it. You could see the flash of hurt cross his eyes and the way his brows knitted even closer together, but he didn’t dare comment on it. Harry knew how sensitive someone could be after a panic attack so he tried to not take it personally and viewed it as a mistake on his behalf.
But you let him hold you for what felt like forever. You just collapsed in his arms until you could breathe again… still, he had gone through panic attacks and he knew that everyone reacted differently. You could come out of it in the worst mental state and the last thing he wanted was giving you too much space and something happening because of it. 
“I’m just going to wash my hands.” The moment you slid past him and out of the stall, you immediately felt a sense of relief from not being so confined anymore. You scratched at your chest a little while watching him join you at the basin beside you to wash his hands as well.
“I’ll drive you home, y/n. I don’t think you should be alone right now,” Harry spoke softly, looking directly at you while scrubbing his hands with the soap. 
“I actually think it’s better if I am… alone.” You cleared your throat and walked to the paper towel dispenser to dry your hands. Your back was towards him but you could feel his stare on your back. “I parked at the station so the train will be fine. I think I just need some time alone, if that’s okay?”
“Are you sure? You’ve never had a panic attack before, y/n. I don’t really feel comfortable leaving you all by yourself. At least let me drive you.” Harry offered, trying to be encouraging without too pushy. But it was really fucking hard because every moment you withdrew from him was another moment he felt himself start to panic at what was going on with you. He had no idea what was running through your head and there was no way for him to find out unless you told him yourself.
“I’m fine, Harry. Really.” You sighed, turning around to face him. He looked so… sad. Helpless almost. “I just need to walk it off, okay?” 
With a firm nod, Harry reluctantly backed down. It was the last thing on the entire planet that he wanted but what choice did he have?
“Okay. Just…” he inhaled a ragged breath and stepped towards you. Harry wanted to touch you so badly, even just a pinky looped to yours but he stopped himself just before his fingers grazed the back of your hand. “Let me walk you out at least. Please.”
Even though your chest was still clammy, your lungs didn’t feel like they were at full capacity yet and you just didn’t want him to walk you anywhere, you still agreed. He had done so much for you, more than you felt like you deserved. The least you could do was let him walk you out the building. 
The walk to get your things and go downstairs was painfully awkward. Thankfully Sharon had warded off the bathroom and hallway so there was no one lingering around, including Ethan but that did very little to dispel how uncomfortable you were. It hadn’t felt like this for months and there wasn’t a single moment since you two started dating where you didn’t want to be around him.
It was a sick feeling, one that just mixed in with your need to go home and die in your bed. Unfortunately, you knew that once you had a shower and cried some more, you’d be pushing it all away again to focus on your assignment. It was cruel. 
“Text me when you get home?” Harry asked, voice full of hope. He tucked his hands in his pockets as you adjusted your tote bag on your shoulder. The street was full and busy of the usual lunch rush, all the corporate men and women off to buy an overpriced sandwich or go to their favourite hole-in-a-wall restaurant for takeaway. 
You two could’ve been going to your favourite japanese cafe for a coffee right now to walk off your food comas, but instead your nice romantic lunch had turned into something ugly. It felt like it was all your fault and yet somehow your brain was blaming Harry. 
Again, even if you didn’t want to agree, you did. “Yeah, of course.”
“Okay, cool. Thank you?” Harry wasn’t sure what to do or say. He was at a loss.
There was nothing about this situation that felt normal or even was normal. He didn’t feel like he could kiss you or even hug you goodbye. It felt like the end of an awkward first date where the polite thing to do was hug goodbye even if neither party wanted to. But Harry did want to. He wanted to follow you right now to make sure you got home okay. That you were okay. 
“Bye Harry.” You opted to make the painful goodbye, feeling sick to your stomach at the entire day. You felt dirty and sticky and the complete normalcy of everyone around you just going about their day was kiling you a little bit inside. 
“Right… um, okay. Goodbye, y/n. Thank you for lunch.” 
It was formal and ugly and all you could do in response was mutter another goodbye and flash him the saddest most pitiful smile you could muster before turning around to walk in the direction of the closest train station. 
And just like that, Harry watched you walk away. 
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barcaatthemoon · 9 hours
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Could you do one for Lia with this prompt please.
“I could have anyone I want yet… Yet you fucking exist.” 
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reputation || lia walti x reader ||
it was easier to be a player than let yourself fall in love again. that was what you had been telling yourself for years, and for a while, it had worked. you went from club to club on loans and transfers. at each club, you had several flings, to the point of earning yourself a startling reputation.
everybody always knew who you were before you got to any new clubs. there was a good chance that no matter where you went, you had an ex or a friend of an ex on the team. it was pure luck that you managed to find a team willing to overlook the things that people said about you. especially one as big as arsenal.
it was your first long-term contract in over seven years. each season brought on a new club, occasionally two. arsenal was very clear about keeping you on their team. you were a talented player, and they wouldn't let rumors ruin the absurd amount of money they had paid for you. it was more than what you had made anywhere else, all for the promise that you'd behave yourself.
"is it true?" katie mccabe asked as she dropped down into the seat next to you at lunch. the two of you knew each other from briefly playing with each other in scotland. you liked her, especially the way that she played things aggressively. it was hell when you were opposite to each other, but you respected it anyway. "did you really, um, get around like that in perth?"
"come on mccabe, aren't you above the rumor mill?" katie shied away a bit, but not completely. you knew that she easily could have asked around. a lot of the girls you had slept with in australia knew caitlin and steph. there had been a brief thing with caitlin whenever the two of you had been on the same team before she came to arsenal.
"come on, nobody else is saying anything. this just isn't what i expected when you joined." katie tried not to let her disappointment show through, but it did.
"well, maybe she's changed," lia piped in. you hadn't even noticed her approach the two of you. she was always around whenever one of the girls tried to probe you about your past relations and interactions with other players. it was obvious with a few girls who you had slept with, especially in the wsl.
"lia, i'm not saying (y/n) isn't different now. i just want to know if she really got around as much as they say," katie said. at this, lia slapped the irishwoman on the back of her head. you stifled a laugh as katie finally left the two of you alone.
"they aren't this bad with other people, i swear," lia promised you. you knew that, most people weren't. you seemed to bring it out in most people, but lia had never asked you about your past. that was one of the reasons that you had fallen for her, even though you swore that you would never fall in love again.
"it's fine. you get used to it after a while. i think that you're different though, which is nice. thank you for that," you told her. lia blushed as she grabbed onto your hand. outside of work, the two of you had been spending a lot of time together. lia lived pretty close to your apartment, so you had a good excuse to always hang out. lately, things had been shifting a bit from friendly to romantic. it wasn't much, just small gestures, but it was enough for you.
"sometimes i do wonder why you haven't found a girl yet. i mean, you could have anybody you wanted if you tried," lia said. she had heard several of the girls talk about hooking up with you. not to mention the night she spent comforting leah whenever you rejected your captain's offer for dinner and drinks.
"i could have anyone i want, yet..." you trailed off as you pulled lia in close enough to whisper, "yet you fucking exist. i don't want to even think about anybody other than you. it's put a damper on my reputation, i think mccabe was disappointed."
"let her be, i like it when you're not just acting how everybody else wants you to. screw your reputation," lia said. she pressed a kiss to the tip of your nose. there was a smile when she pulled back, but that was nothing compared to the look in her eyes. it should have made you want to run away, but you couldn't run from lia.
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tofixtheshadows · 1 day
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Hot take: Laios wouldn't actually mind an arranged marriage. Obviously "reluctant royal being pressured into marriage" is very fun for shipping purposes. But I have harlequin blood, so bear with me. Join me on this journey of character theorizing/shipping nonsense that makes it abundantly clear I have a Scrivener document I'm neglecting.
Laios was promised to someone from a young age. He and Falin both were; it's probably how their parents ended up together. They both broke it off by leaving their village, but it didn't seem to be a factor in Laios's own decision. And when Marcille, presumably, asks about his hypothetical love life (bicorn chapter), he not only brings it up readily, but actually seems kind of flattered? lmao
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I love when smug Laios comes out. Underrated factor of Laios's personality for me is how much he enjoys being seen as cool. I think you'd expect Laios to be embarrassed or uneasy over this line of questioning, and the fact that he isn't is fun to me.
So when Yaad and his other old advisors bring up his need for a wife, Laios is ready to go along with it. Not necessarily thrilled by the prospect, but he was raised to think of marriage as a business arrangement you do because it's beneficial for your household/bloodline (as was often the case historically). He's already made the big step to claim a throne, and the idea of becoming village chief after his father seemed to have been vaguely in the back of his head all his life. Besides, if he has to do it anyway, I think he'd take comfort that there was a formalized process for an otherwise socially messy undertaking.
This dovetails neatly with my personal headcanon that Laios is gay but unaware of it. He comes from kind of a repressed culture- or at least I can imagine he does based on context clues- and has spent most of his life being ostracized in one way or another, feeling like he's on the outside of humanity. So he doesn't realize that his lack of attraction to women is unusual- he assumes that nobody really enjoys romance that much. It's not like his own parents married for love. It's just something people play up for stories, right?
It's all tangled up with his fraught desire for human connection and platonic companionship anyway. Meanwhile he's blithely unaware that the things he says about Toshiro are not normal bro things. Oh you'd totally marry Toshiro, Laios? Tell me more.
I see this in Marcille too. Firstly due to her unstable development, which has only recently allowed her to reach maturity (I headcanon her as somewhere between 20-22) and secondly due to her being a half-elf (infertile+a too-long lifespan), I think she has the expectation that she's simply not destined for love. The half-elf character she relates to in her favorite books says as much. So she, too, confuses a genuine lack of heterosexual attraction with the belief that this is just because of her half-elf status distancing her from it. Plus, she spent over a decade as a student/researcher in a nice little sheltered academic bubble, at an all-girls academy populated by adolescents. She's the most sheltered of all the characters: she's only spent the past year in the "real world", and she still focuses all her romantic attention on living vicariously through her favorite characters or her friends (except for Falin, conveniently!).
And Marcille would absolutely want to live vicariously through Laios and his future wife. She would not want him to go through a dispassionate formalized process: she wants her bestie to have a fairytale romance! What is the point of being a heroic king in a mythic castle if you can't even get a love story for the ages out of it?
This would result in a lot of Laios meeting with eligible bachelorettes at Marcille's urging, looking to Kabru for help the entire time and being grilled by Marcille afterwards about what he liked best about each girl. "She had nice, um, teeth?" They're both so close to getting it.
Kabru, meanwhile, is agitating for Yaad and the other advisors not lock the country into a hereditary monarchy, they have the chance to do something radical here, to break away from the systems that the elves and dwarves uphold. At the very least, let Laios marry for love, or formally adopt an heir and name them his successor if he wants, he's already sacrificed enough for the sake of Melini. Don't make him jump through these circus hoops for the chance of some trade agreements, we can get those without a royal marriage. And even if Laios was willing to go along with it, he does look at Kabru like he's his hero for sticking up for him.
The vague unhappiness Kabru feels at the idea of Laios being married off is easy for him to ignore. Kabru didn't actually get better at honoring or even recognizing his own wants just because he's moved past the dungeon. And Laios hasn't gotten the hint about his crush on Toshiro and is still 50/50 on saying casually shocking things, so when he remarks that he doesn't need a wife anyway when he has Kabru, he has no idea why that gets him the looks it does. After all, where he's from, men marry women to run their households, but Laios has castle staff for that, and Kabru is handling the rest?
That comment alone ticks one month off their collective gay awakening countdown.
Anyway. How many repressed gays in their twenties does it take to run a country?
Answer: Yaad can tell you.
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listentoace · 3 days
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Ruin your life for Gluttony
It's time to make a few things clear. I'm not just here to make you horny. I'm here to fuck you up so much that you'll very soon be wheezing 24/7 as you try carrying your deep hanging gut into the kitchen to get your fat fingers on more snacks. So you better pay attention to what I want you to do.
If you are delusional enough to still have a gym membership because "I'm just experimenting and will lose it again", cancel it now. I'm not kidding. Cancel your fucking gym membership! That money is better spent on snacks and when was the last time you went there anyways? Cancel it. You will be living a sedentary lifestyle from now on. Keep everything you need at arms length, make yourself as comfortable as possible, sleep in, masturbate a lot and stuff yourself all day long.
You'll be exclusively eating greasy, sugary food from now on, loaded with fat and carbs. You'll have absolutely no greens. The only way you'll have some vegetables will be the salad on your burger. Buy your snacks in bulk, look for jumbo boxes of snacks that will keep you occupied for a few days. Consume as much sugar as you possibly can. Really fuck up your appetite and insulin with all that sugar you'll be stuffing down that greedy throat of yours. And don't forget the heavy cream! I only want you to be eating and drinking stuff that is bad for you
Objectify yourself. You had your chance to be human, yet you chose to be a pig. Things such as human rights, respect, moral, privacy, etc. no longer apply to you. Show off your fat, growing body from every angle possible. Make a fat fucktoy and whore of yourself as you'll be depending on people to encourage and feed you even fatter. Fulfill every request sent to you, stuff yourself whenever someone tells you to. Do as you're told. You no longer have free will. Let yourself be used. Being used means that you're desirable and that's what you want, isn't it, piggy?
Wreck your brain. Play games, watch mind-numbing TV shows and do absolutely anything you can to keep your mind occupied. I want you to dumb down so much that your brain activity doesn't differ much from when you're asleep. Whenever you catch yourself thinking about anything but how fat you've gotten or how you want to eat more food, stop thinking. All that matters is food, worthless and endless content to consume, cumming over and over again and just letting your brain rot away.
Screw your limits. You don't wanna grow immobile? Sucks to be you. You'll keep getting fatter until I'm satisfied. You're my pig now and you better keep putting on those pounds or I'll have to force you. I don't care about all the issues that arise, your heart racing, your arteries clogging up from all the grease, you always being short on breath, another pair of jeans you're ripping right through before you've even worn them 3 times. I don't fucking care. All I care about is seeing that number on the scale go up. If you cannot do something as simple as stuffing your fat face, you're of no use to me.
Enjoy the last few years you've got. Soon you'll be fully immobile. You'll be one of the girls you've seen pictures or videos of, watching them struggle move their 800lbs body around, while their feeder still funnels them with heavy cream shakes. You'll be just like them and just like them your health will decline rapidly until you're fully immobile with an oxygen tube in your nose and a feeding tube in your mouth. But I won't be satisfied until I fuck your fat, buried pussy one last time until you flat-line during orgasm because your body just can't handle it anymore. That's when both you and I will finally experience true satisfaction.
And yes, while all this sounds so very extreme and surreal to think about, it strangely turns you on more than other, softer posts. The fantasy of actually becoming that fat is so frightening, yet so strangely appealing. Almost as if you deeply desire just that. Why don't you stuff yourself while imagining how you'd be a fat, 800lb immobile blob? I bet that orgasm would feel sooo good. Go ahead, do it. Grab some food, start masturbating and cum while you think about how fucking fat I'll be making you! Good girl ~
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kpop---scenarios · 2 days
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Reckless (2)
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Pairing: Lee Know x Reader
Genre: Brothers Bestfriend
Warning: Hurt.. smutty smut [18+ ONLY, MINORS DO NOT READ]
Word Count: 2.6k
Part One |
Taglist: @hyunjinhoexxx @ovulatingrn @jisunglyricist @guiltycoco @fawnpeaks @purple-bell @seungminsapuppy @chanbahng29
“Dumb enough to do what, exactly?” You ask Jisung, eyes darting between him and Minho.
“Fuck around, get to together.. you know, anything like that.” Jisung chuckles.
“Would that really be so bad?” Minho asks, locking eyes with you as Jisung looks down at his food, that was your food, and laughs.
“It would be hell on earth.” He yells. “My little sister and my best friend? Ew, never happening.”
“Don't worry man, I would never go for Y/N. She's not even my type.” Minho laughs.
You glance at Minho, who is now avoiding eye contact.
“But you can go after my best friend?” You scoff, pushing his shoulder a little.
“What?” He asks. “When did I go after Hyunjin?”
You roll your eyes at him. “Not Hyunjin, Jisoo you moron!”
“She's hot.” Jisung laughs, looking at Minho. “And judging by his face, he thinks so too.”
“Ah, um, no, I don't.” Minho says. “I really don't.”
“It's okay, her and I are just a casual hookup thing, I can set you up with her.” Jisung offer.
“Since when are you a casual hook up thing with her?” You ask.
“Since last night.” Jisung explains, with a giant smile on his face. “So, you wanna get set up?” He asks Minho, wiggling his eyebrows.
“I don't need your help with women. I'm perfectly capable of getting them on my own.” Minho laughs.
“I'm gonna set you up anyway!” Jisuung yells, excitedly. “Minho and Jisoo!”
You look at Minho, you're not even sure with what kind of expression.
“As fun as this has been, I have to go get ready for class. Both of you, goodluck with the whole Jisoo thing.” You say, forcing a smile as you walk past both of them.
“What's up her ass?” Jisung laughs as you walk out of the room.
You hated him so much sometimes. As you're gathering your bag and books there's a knock at your door.
“Go away.” You yell, grabbing your phone off your bed.
“Open the door.” You hear. You rolled your eyes, you had no choice, you had to leave anyway. You pull the door open, seeing Minho standing there, looking guilty. “What?”
“Listen.” Minho starts.
“Don't.” You say, putting up your hand. “Whatever happened was a drunk thing, I'm not even your type so don't worry about it.” You finish, moving past him, heading downstairs and out the front door.
“Guys fucking suck.” You scoff, sliding into the seat next to Hyunjin.
“Good afternoon to you too.” He chuckles, running his hands through his hair.
“I'm sorry, not you. Just a select few.” You sigh.
“Your brother?” He asks, glancing at you.
“He's one, yes. He hooked up with Jisoo.” You shiver, the thought makes you nauseous.
“Yeah, unfortunately I saw that.” Hyunjin sighs. “I had nightmares last night from it. Also, where did you disappear too? You said you were getting a drink and never came back.” He pouts.
“Ah, I got pulled into the hallway by one of Jisung's friends apparently. Changbin.” You explain, opening your text book.
“That creepy fuck?” He almost yells. “Stay away from him.”
“That's the plan.” You smile as your professor walks into the room. Hyunjin leans over, his lips brushing your ear. “Do you wanna get a drink after this?” He asks.
You smile at him and nod your head. Hopefully you'll be able to make it through this class. At the end of the lecture, your head was pounding. You were exhausted and confused by the entire lesson plan. You swore you had no fucking clue what your teacher was talking about in almost any of the class.
“Drink?” Hyunjin asks. You desperately nod your head as he links arms with you, heading to your favorite pub. You know those people who say they're going to only have one drink, and end up having multiple? Yeah that was you and Hyunjin. One turned to two, which turned to three, and four and so on. By your 6th drink you were hiccuping and slurring your words.
“Let's get you out of here.” Hyunjin laughs, pulling your arm.
“I don't wanna go hooooomeeee.” You whine. “Stupid Minho is there.”
“What'd he do?” Hyunjin asks, holding your shoulder as he guides you out of the pub.
“I'm not his tyyyypee.” You exaggerate.
“But you're everyone's type.” Hyunjin scoffs. “Especially mine.”
“No..” you hiccup. “No No don't do that.”
“Do what?” He asks. He leans his face close to yours, and you're uncomfortable. You can feel in your pocket, your phone vibrating. You grab it, fumbling to answer the call, not even reading who was calling.
“Hellooooo?” You answer, moving away from Hyunjin's close face.
“Where are you?”
“Minho?” You ask.
“Yes, Y/N, Where are you?” He asks again.
“Why do you even care?” You wonder.
“Y/N. Please, just tell me.” He sighs.
“I got a drink with Hyunjinnie.” you giggle. “That turned into 6.. I think he's trying to kiss me.” You whisper.
“At the pub by school?” He asks.
“Yeah, we left. He's walking me home.”
“Stay there.” He deadpans. “I'm on my way.”
You wanted to tell him no but the line went dead. You slipped your phone back in your pocket as Hyunjin walked over to you. “Who was that?”
“Minho.” You slur. “He told me to wait here.” You sigh, rolling your eyes.
“I'm more than capable of taking you home, you know.” He whines. You look at him, he looks annoyed.
“Yeah, I know.” You smile. “I didn't ask him to come.” You chuckle.
“Doesn't matter. Why does he have to come? Why can't I just have some time with you. And why are you okay with him coming!? I thought you didn't like him.” He huffs.
“It's complicated Hyunjin..” you sigh. This sudden serious talk was beginning to sober you up and you didn't like it.
“Complicated how?” He asks. You grab the sleeve of his arm, dragging him back towards the bar.
“More drinks.” You huff, Hyunjin in tow. Hyunjin chuckles from behind you, as the two of you enter the bar. You wanted to see how many shots you were able to do before Minho busted through the door.
It ended up only being two. The front door of the pub swings open, a huffing Minho walks in, looking around the bar for you. You tried to duck behind Hyunjin, but drunk you weren't the best at hiding.
“Minho.” Hyunjin says, placing his hand on Minho's chest to stop him. “She's fine with me. You can go.” He finishes.
Minho looks down at Hyunjins hand, swatting it off of him. “She's fine with you, huh?” He laughs. “After you tried to kiss her?” Hyunjin doesn't say anything. “Yeah, that's what I thought. Y/N, let's go. I told Jisung I'd bring you home.”
“So you're not here because you want to be.” You sigh, standing up. “Jisung sent you?”
“Yeah.” Minho responds, avoiding your eyes. You scoff, pushing past him and Hyunjin, towards the front door.
Minho follows closely behind you as you walk out the door. “I'm parked right there.” He says, pointing to his car.
You huff as you walk towards it, climbing in the back seat. Minho climbs into The driver's seat, turning around to look at you. “Why are you back there?” He asks.
“It's much safer back here.” You say, crossing your arms.
“Safer from what?” He asks, starting the car.
“Safer from you. You can't kiss me back here and then tell people I'm not your type.” You yell.
“Y/N.. that's not..” he starts.
“Don't wanna hear it.” You yell, cutting him off. He sighs as he starts to drive towards your house. The rest of the ride goes by in silence. You walk in the door first, Jisung tries to greet you but instead you walk straight up the stairs and head towards your room, changing into some shorts and a tank top before crawling into bed. You glance at the clock, it was only 10pm, and Jisung had already forced you to go home. It wasn't even that late, you were an adult, so why were you listening to them? You pulled out your phone to send a text to Jisoo, seeing what she was doing.
[To: Jisooooo] 10:02pm: What are you doing rn?
[From: Jisooooo] 10:05pm: Party at the EXO house. Come!!
You smile at your phone as you crawl out of bed and head to your closet. You slip on a dress, quickly doing some makeup and your hair. You grab a pair of shoes. You open your bedroom door, peeking out into the hallway, not seeing anyone you quietly head down the stairs, trying to be as quiet as you possibly can. You peek around the corner, seeing Minho and Jisung watching something on the couch. You tiptoe by, opening the front door, and of course it squeaks.
“Y/N?” Jisung yells. You pull the door open as fast as you can, not bothering to shut it and you bolt from the house. You look behind you, seeing Jisung's shadow in the door frame as you take off.
Once you feel like you're far enough, you slow down, put on your shoes and call an Uber, which comes quickly, taking you to the lively house.
Jisoo came outside as soon as you texted that you had shown up. She pulls you into the house, heading straight for the drinks, which were surrounded by so many attractive men.
“Y/N, this is Kai, Sehun, Chanyeol, Baekhyun and Kyungsoo.” She says, introducing you. You smile and wave at them all, but one in particular cannot take his eyes off of you.
The seven of you stand around taking shots, talking and laughing for a few minutes, until Kai holds his hand out to you. ‘Wanna dance?” He asks, with a gorgeous smile. You take his hand, smiling back at him before he drags you to the living room.
You're hot as you dance in the crowd of people, Kai’s hands roaming your body as the two of you danced close to each other. His eyes remain on you and yours on his, you are completely oblivious to anything else going on, until Kai is ripped away from you. You look over in shock to see Minho standing there. He walks closer to you, you back up until you can't anymore. His chest pressed against yours as he stared at you.
“What are you doing?” he asks, cocking his head to the side.
“Dancing. What does it look like?” You ask.
Minho is pulled away from you. You see Kai standing there, the collar of Minho's shirt crumpled up in Kai's fists.
“What the fuck, man?” Kai yells, shoving Minho back. “Y/N, Do you know this dude?” He asks.
You sigh, running your hand over your face. “He's my brother's friend.” You say. Kai nods his head, walking away, but keeping a close eye on Minho. You grab Minho's wrist, pulling him outside the house.
“What are you doing here!?” You ask.
He chuckles a humorless laugh. “Why are you trying to make me jealous?” He asks, walking closer to you, moving his face closer to yours.
“Why are you jealous? I'm not your..” you say before he cuts you off.
“Cut the shit.” He breathes, crashing his lips onto yours. His hand presses against the back of your head, pushing into the kiss harder. His lips move against yours as his tongue slides into your mouth, swirling around your own. You wrap your arms around him, bringing your bodies closer together. The sound of someone yelling causes the two of you to break the kiss. Minho pulls you to his car, opening the passenger door for you before moving around to the driver's side. He speeds off, turning down random streets until you hit one that's fully dark. His hand held onto your thigh the entire time, slowly sliding up with each turn.
He puts the car in park, sliding his seat back. You reach over, unbuttoning his pants as he kisses you again, this time with more desperation and neediness. His hands roam your body as he pulls you closer to him and onto him, straddling him. He pulls his cock out before moving your panties to the side. Just as you begin to lower yourself onto him, his phone rings. He grabs it from the cup holder, groaning as Jisung's name flashes across the screen.
“Don't answer.” You breathe, desperate to feel his cock inside you.
He swipes to answer. “Yeah?”
“Did you find her?” Jisung asks. You smirk as you lower yourself onto him, his cock stretching you out. You watch Minho's face as he squeezes his eyes shut, biting his lip to keep from moaning out.
“Yeah, I've got eyes on her - She's fine. I'll get her home soon.” He says, hanging up the phone and tossing it to the seat next to him .
“You lied to him.” You moan as you rock your hips against him, his cock so deep inside you.
“It's not a lie.” He smirks. “I do have eyes on you.” He says, his hands on your hips as he guides you while you ride him. Minho moves his hands all over your body, up to your breasts, pulling them from your dress. He grips them, pulling you closer to him as he slips your nipple into your mouth, sucking on it. You cry out as you bounce on his dick, the feeling of his tongue swirling around your nipple sending you over the edge.
“God damn.” He groans. “You feel so fucking good.”
You smile as you throw your head back, he bucks his hips, pushing himself deeper into you. You run your hands through his hair as you continue grinding on him, your orgasm building so quickly.
“Fuck.” You breathe, squeezing your cunt around him, trying to delay your orgasm but it doesn't work, your eyes roll back as you cry out, your orgasm pulsates through your body.
“Oh fuck.” He groans. “I'm gonna cum.”
“Cum in my pussy.” You breathe, bouncing harder. “I'm on birth control.”
Minho moans loudly as he cums, thrusting himself deeper inside you. The two of you breathe heavily, your chests heaving as you slide off his cock and back into the passenger seat.
The rest of the ride is quiet as he drives back to your house. You walk in the front door, Jisung is in the living room.
“Don't take off again, please.” He sighs, his eyes never leaving the tv.
“Night.” You say, heading up the stairs to take a shower. That night you fall asleep, dreaming of Minho and what this night meant for the two of you.
The next morning you wake up happy as fuck. Happier than you had been in a very long time. It was Saturday and you were excited for the day and what might come of it. You look at the clock, you'd slept in late, it was already 1pm. You went downstairs, seeing Jisung and Minho in the kitchen talking and laughing.
“What's your plan tonight, Y/N?” Jisung asks, popping a candy in his mouth.
“I'm not sure yet.” You smile, glancing at Minho. “What about you?” You ask your brother.
“Gonna have people over later, but first Minho and I are going on a double date.” He laughs.
“Oh?” You partially choke. “A date?”
“Yeah.” Jisung chuckles. “Minho has been talking to Maya for a few weeks. And Jisoo and I are going to join them.” He explains. You look over at Minho, who won't look at you.
“Sounds fun.” You whisper.
“Yeah.” Minho pipes up. “It should be.”
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suguru-getos · 2 days
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| Bully! Gojo Satoru x F!Reader | Part 7 |
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Summary: You had just transferred schools, and your first day was an encounter with your new bully. He’s mean, terrifically hot & absolutely a menace. Though there’s more to that personna. Perhaps an emotionally stunted softie who can’t communicate after used to being worshipped by everyone?
Series Masterlist
Chapter Summary: With the School festival coming right up the corner, your class choosing the Maid Cafe and you dressing up as a Maid. Satoru has to pull a few strings of his own. He may not be your bully anymore, he still is a spoiled boy who wants what he wants.
Between the haze of studies, and the workload because of the festival preparation, two weeks had passed. Satoru? Yeah, Satoru has gone more and more normal you'd say. He doesn't bother you apart from the occasional greetings. Sometimes he would smile and wink at you during the cafeteria where you settle with your friends; they are enamoured by the snow-haired king of school. Both the best friends, Satoru and Suguru are so sought out, you are worried it would end up in you getting into trouble because of it. Satoru is hell-bent on giving you the attention you don't need. You don't wish him good morning upfront when you accidentally catch him in the corridors, he does. Never failing it even once. The people who hang out with you have started to taunt you because of it.
"If it was up to me, I would have also spilled my lunch on his shirt. Maybe then he would notice me like he does, you, Y/N." Your eyes roll back a total of 360 degrees. This, this very behaviour was the reason Satoru was able to humiliate you so many times. The reminders aren't needed. The brutal reminders of you wishing you had no school, of you wishing that maybe he would have a change of heart and leave you alone. All because you said he collided against you purposely. Insufferable, Satoru Gojo was truly insufferable.
The cafeteria was echoing with the whispers, laughs, and discussions of your classmates and seniors alike. This was supposed to be festive time of course. Everyone was busy with something. As for you, this was your break. You had just finished giving your sizing for the maid costume. You hope it would look good on you at least, and you would get some memorable pictures. The thought of the School Festival commencing soon makes you giddy. You're not one of those emo loners anyway, you'd rather enjoy. "Hello Y/N san." One of your classmates diverts your attention, your gaze wanders up at him, reflexively shifting in your bench with the tray of your food so he could sit next to you. "Hello!" You chirped, watching him glance at you in a weird way, what's so weird about it? Well, Satoru looks at you the same way, as if you were a movie. You gulped, the stare was awkward. "So, what did you need?" You asked, raising an inquisitive brow. "Uh, nothing, just wanted to ask if you would participate in cooking as well? Some of the girls have been given the opportunity to dress up as maids, the others are going to be cooking." You think about it, this was pre-decided that you would be wearing a maid-costume. When the discussion happened, you were chosen pretty easily for the same.
"Hmm, I don't think I'm a great chef to be honest." You half chuckle, shrugging. The boy nods, gnawing at his lower lip. He seemed, almost nervous. As if he didn't know what to do if you didn't agree with him. "Why? What's the problem?" You asked again, trifling with your food now that your curiosity was piqued. "N-Nothing as such, it's just, you know Y/N there are going to be people from different schools, seniors- and I don't want anyone to hit on you." His cheeks are beet red when he says that. You raise a brow, you don't know how to take it. "Uh, thanks? I can take care of myself. Didn't take me much time to knock a shitty senior out in this very cafeteria?" You lean back, observing his face. He was looking more and more nervous by the passing minute. What is going on? "You know, I appreciate whatever you thought about me, but I can handle myself and take care of myself. Anything else?" You asked politely, unsure why you are being talked-to like you're a damsel in distress who wouldn't be able to take care of herself from hormone raging teens. "Sorry." He pouted, looking down. "I know it must sound like I am trying to control you - but you should remember I only want what's best for you." You want to puke, you barely know the dude. "Do you have a crush on me?" You cut to the chase, this was getting redundant/ "Who? ME?!" He exclaimed, leaning back, stuttering, "N-No of course- I mean, no- not like- Y/N you are pretty." "Thank you, I'm assuming you do have a crush on me?" He shakes his head no, timid again. "I don't want to die by the hands of Gojo san if I become brave and do agree."
Ah, there it is. Gojo San coming and looming in all over you again. "I understand, so you mean he likes me and he doesn't want anyone else to like me else he'll beat their ass?" The boy looked conflicted, should he? Really tell about all that? He wonders about the pros and cons - beaten up by Gojo to a pulp versus being your friend.
"Y/N, please don't discuss this with him." He begs, eyes pleading submissively. You roll your eyes and sighed, fine - you will keep your mouth shut about it. "Yeah, I promise. Won't share anything won't confront him, never heard of it." "He- uhm, ever since he knows that our class is going to do a Maid-café, he's closely supervising things with Shoko san & Geto san." "I never saw him? What do you mean? I never saw him come and check things?" You raised a brow, you were so sure his chapter was a closed one. You barely talked to him apart from having casual small-talk where you both don't ignore each other's existence. "Well, he did. Mostly timed when you were busy, he decided the menu, he interfered with the maid costumes. When everyone was against the long skirts and the full sleeves he threatened that he would have our class not participate at all. When we asked him what we could do so he could let us have some freedom to organize 'our own' activity - he mentioned he doesn't want you as a maid." A broken sigh escapes your classmate when he's done confessing.
You were.. fuming to say the least, every nerve ending pumping with boiling blood. So he is going to make everyone else suffer because he can't have you in a maid costume? "Then?" You raised a brow, this wasn't any conclusion. "Then I said I could talk to you about it, you're pretty and we hoped we would make a lot of money if you were to participate but Gojo San said he could cover the monetary side of it without any issues. Which left us with one final option, you could either opt out of being a maid, or we don't do it."
Ridiculous, fucking ridiculous.
"Why?" You snarled, what the fuck? "Well, because- as he said, he doesn't want other 'men' to look at you and create all sorts of scenarios in their head. He will have to take things on his own hands when that happens - and he wants to avoid that. I mean - avoiding beating up boys and ruin the festival." "Oh how kind, Gojo San is so kind, no?" You scoffed, sighing. Your classmates depended upon you, and you were once again caught in a clutch by Gojo Satoru. He gets what he wants doesn't he? "Tell him that I will be doing maid. Tell him to die mad about it." You got up, hearing the sound of the lunch-end bell and stomping away.
------
Gojo hasn't come back to you, it's been two days. You are sure your classmate had communicated everything to him clearly. Weird. This dude was so fucking weird. You are taut by your own promise to him though, you wouldn't talk to Gojo about it and risk the very foundation with which he trusted you. A lot has been on your mind since, if he likes you, he has no idea how to show it. Besides, doesn't even… matter if he likes you or not. You wouldn't forgive him… right? "Come on, don't be so pouty just because you're losing!" You heard his familiar voice from the basketball court. "Your glasses aren't working properly if you think I'm losing." You heard Geto remark back. Basketball, Satoru and Suguru are playing basketball. You didn't want to be a lurker but you do peek inside, watching the tall hunks play around alone. Every thud of the ball, every chuckle, every snicker and every goal sounding evidently in the echoes of the empty hall. "Peeking's no good." Satoru smirked, looking at you. You have no idea how grateful he is right now. He caught 'you' looking at him. "Sorry-" You mumbled, clearly accepting your mistake when you are at fault, unlike the fucking cafeteria incident. You were NOT at fault back then. "Whatcha lookin' for?" Satoru asked, playing with the ball and dribbling it while walking towards you. "Nothing, just got my 'final' maid costume." You answered, eyes trying their best not to glare at him when you say so. He hums, "Yeah? Gonna be a maid I hear." He cheekily grins. He heard… as if he doesn't know the bits and pieces of everything minutely already. "That's right, 'very excited' for it." You emphasize, and his eyes visibly softened, the pupils humanly dilating and a soft hum escaping him. "Mhm?" "Yeah" You grin back at him, unsure how to continue the conversation further.
Satoru was, dying. He didn't want to become what he was when you two met, and the way you said you were excited about it, he doesn't want to rip that all off because of his own spoiled wishes. It's a complex web of thoughts. On one moment Satoru wants to claim you as his; no one is even allowed to think about you wrongly. Keep you enclosed with him, marry you even? Breed you so you know you're his. Make babies so he gets a perfect blend of you and him. The other bit of him, wants to let you live so he can hopefully become a safe space for you. Help you trust him which he has ruined, show off the person he likes- loves- he doesn't know whether it's like or love yet.
"Well, I'll see you around." You distract him from his thoughts instantly. His lips part and brows furrow a little in resistance, "Well- shyeah."
He glances at Suguru once you leave.  You're going to be a maid and he wouldn't be able to do 'anything' about it when that brings a smile like 'that' on your face.
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Alright, so there's been a lot of chatter about some of the most common racist takes in the fandom lately, and I know most people aren't engaging in good faith but I'm gonna spell some things out anyway. Here's a handy-dandy White Fan's Intro to Racist Fanon 101
Why is it racist to depict Ed as uncontrollably violent?
Because he's not actually depicted that way in the show. OFMD goes out of its way to depict Ed's relationship with violence as complex and intensely traumatic for him. Because he has so many hangups around violence, Ed is one of the least violent characters in a show full of violent characters. He is always shown giving people many chances before they're able to push him into reacting with violence.
Even if you think you're just doing a character study on a guy who is really very complex and nuanced, please take the time to consider if you're assigning more weight to Ed's violent actions than those of other characters or assuming he's worse than he actually is (for example, Ed never physically hurt the crew during his kraken spiral, just Izzy. His crime was being a shitty boss, not going on mindlessly violent rampages).
What do other common fanon depictions of Ed that are racist look like?
The biggest ones are depicting Ed as untidy/messy, as illiterate, and as needing a white man (most often Izzy) to clean up after him. I hope I shouldn't have to spell out why these are racist, but please keep an eye out for them in the fanon you consume so you can be critical of how you respond when they pop up.
Are you saying that all Izzy fans are racist?
Liking a character is morally neutral. Insisting that the viewpoint of an antagonistic character is the lens through which the show should be understood, though, especially when that antagonistic character's whole deal in the first season of the show was trying to control the behavior of the brown lead so he could gain power for himself, however...
Just please consider - why do you find Izzy's tears more deserving of sympathy and compassion than Ed's?
But my hot take/fic/meta doesn't say anything about Ed's skin color!
It doesn't have to. Most of the racist takes/fic/meta out there don't mention Ed's skin color explicitly. Racism doesn't just look like saying "this character is a brown man so he's bad." Everyone who grows up in a racist society (that's everyone on the planet, btw, you included) has biases to unlearn, and those biases impact how you interact with the world around you, including with the media you consume.
The thing is, OFMD isn't a subtle show. It's very consistent with telling us who Ed is, how he responds to situations, and why he behaves the way he does. If you find it easier to throw all that aside in favor of believing what a white antagonistic character tells you about him, then you should really take a bit to examine that.
And here's the most important thing to keep in mind:
This is not about you.
Trust me, it has to be pretty damn bad for fans of color to call out racism in fandom. Every time we do, we know we're gonna harrassment and just some truly awful shit in our inboxes. But you, random white fan who Did A Racism? No one is out to get you. No one thinks you're an awful person for including a racist trope in your stuff, we just wish you'd examine it so we can make this fandom a better place for everyone.
I have had amazing discussions with white fans who saw my posts on fandom racism and wanted a sensitivity read or a check so they could fix an instance where they uncritically included a racist trope. But most people who make similar mistakes will just double down and insist they didn't do anything wrong, and that makes fandom a worse place for all of us.
Fans of color deserve to feel safe and included in this fandom, and we're just tired of feeling like we have to beg to get some circles to see poc as people. You can do your part by being critical of these tropes and your reactions to them when they pop up.
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ladykailitha · 3 days
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Paper Hearts Part 4
I finished it!! It will have 8 chapters. I'm excited for you guys to see where this goes! I'm still working on Sweet Home Indiana and will be focusing on that until ITS done. Then we'll be back our regularly schedule WIPs.
We have Eddie's big plan and Steve gets his flirt on.
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3
****
Steve slipped into the kitchen and there in his mother’s neat handwriting was a note telling him that there were leftovers in the fridge and that they would be home again next Friday.
He sighed and opened the fridge. He immediately closed it when he saw what the leftovers were.
Boiled cabbage with chopped bacon and carrots. It wasn’t bad if it was made correctly, but his mother boiled any flavor and nutrients out of the poor vegetables and then tossed in cooked bacon to hide its sins.
He opened the cupboard and pulled out a small can of Campbell’s chicken noodle soup and made that. He was craving the sodium. Eddie’s beef was good to get his body to stop shaking, but he had sweat so much he needed to replenish the salt he’d lost.
Once Steve had eaten and drank another glass of water he went to go get a shower and get ready for bed. It was no use trying to get back to his homework now. He had managed to blow up his whole evening by getting lost.
He had no idea how he got to Forest Hills or even why his feet carried him there in the first place. He could feel the weariness seeping into his bones from running for so long.
He undressed and got under the scorching water, letting the heat carry away his pains. His mind ran through all the things that Munson had done for him. The guy had no reason to be nice to him, but he had been more than gracious.
Then it hit him. Munson had called him Stevie, and without thinking Steve had called him Eds.
Eds.
Where the fuck did that come from? They weren’t friends, they could barely be considered acquaintances. Was his brain reaching out to the guy subconsciously? Is that why he ended up at the trailer park? Everyone knew that’s where Munson lived. Who knew how many times the guy had been called trailer trash, but the older teen seemed to rise above the insult.
Steve shook his head, spraying water everywhere. Just because Munson picked up lost sheep, didn’t mean he’d be willing to taken in an injured wolf. Because that’s what he was, reformed or not, Steve would never be a sheep. He would always be a wolf. A predator.
But at least as a wolf he could protect those kids with everything he had. And he would, even if it killed him.
The water had long since turned cold by the time Steve stepped out of the shower. He completed his after shower routine mostly on autopilot as he kept going over his interactions with both Munson men. He didn’t really have good interactions with dads or in this case uncles. But Munson’s uncle Wayne treated him with kindness and he could see where the older boy got it from.
He dressed into his pajamas and slid under the covers. He rolled over on his back and tucked one arm under his pillow, staring up at the ceiling.
Steve thought back to the apology. One Munson really didn’t have to give but did anyway. He thought about the other jocks that bragged about hurting his hand. He held it up and looked at the fading bruise. It wasn’t as though he was even basketball anymore. Hurting his hand wouldn’t do anything but make it hard to do his homework and all he had to do is show his teachers his hurt hand and he’d get extensions for that. Like he had for his concussion last November.
But then again Tommy H. never had reasons for the people he hurt either. He just liked the power he got seeing the person helpless.
He placed his hand over his heart and let himself drift off the sleep, brown eyes and dark curls haunting his dreams.
****
Eddie had originally bought the red heart for himself like he had told the two juniors. But staring at it now, he had a better plan for it. Because that last wall, that last bastion of defense crumbled to ashes when he realized that despite the fancy car, the big house, and the expensive clothes, Steve Harrington was more like Eddie than he thought possible.
Wayne’s approval of the boy cemented that for him. Because if he could take one look at Steve and decide he was worth saving, then Eddie raring to go full steam ahead for a rescue mission.
Eddie could tell that the hearts were made from simple construction paper, like the kind found just about anywhere. He knew it would be technically cheating to just simply make more instead of buying them, but he had no intention of contributing to a dance he was never going to go to because one, it wasn’t his year; two, the whole gay thing; and three, the one person he would want to go with if the gay thing wouldn’t get him hate crimed, wouldn’t give him the time of day.
Well, all right, that might have changed with the whole rescuing him from wandering alone in the dark thing.
He forgave Eddie about being a dumbass, so maybe there was hope for, at the very least, a vast decrease in hostility. And he was willing to take what he could get.
He decided to wait until tomorrow after school to get the construction paper and hope that the high school hadn’t bought up the town’s supply.
On his way out the next morning, Wayne stopped him.
“You don’t have to tell me, son,” he said gently, “but you got feelings for that boy?”
Eddie froze and turned slowly to face his uncle. “What gave you that idea?”
Wayne chuckled and shook his head fondly. “Boy, when you’d go on rants about the Harrington boy, you’d describe his floppy hair, his hazel eyes and how unfairly good looking the kid was. I didn’t say anything because it did sound like he’d been a bit of an ass. Only after last night I got to thinking and was wondering is all.”
Eddie closed his eyes and opened them slowly. He let out a long shuddering breath, his bottom lip quivering.
“I–I don’t...” he closed his eyes again. This wasn’t Al. He wasn’t going to get beat for admitting it, but still it was so hard to say. So he just nodded.
Wayne came up and wrapped his arms around his nephew. “It’s a hell of a lot tougher batting for the other team, but I trust your judgment. Just promise me that if he shows signs of liking you back, you take the chance to tell him how you feel because...”
“You miss one hundred percent of the chances you don’t take,” they said together.
Eddie dropped his bag to the floor and hugged him back. “I know, old man. But I promise if there is a chance, I’ll be brave enough to take it.”
“Get going,” Wayne said, voicing cracking with emotion.
He pulled back and nodded. He reshouldered his backpack and got in his van.
He had a lot to think about and that really wasn’t conducive to paying attention in class or to his friends as they talked about their upcoming D&D session.
Gareth kicked his shin causing him to yelp.
“What the fuck, dude?” Eddie hissed.
“What the fuck is up with you?” Gareth hissed back. “You’ve been going on and on about the mind flayer for weeks and now that it’s literally this weekend, and you’re off in some other realm.”
Eddie blinked at him for a moment before his brain came back on. He shook his head to clear it.
“Yeah, sorry, man,” he said around a pretzel. “Weird night last night.”
“What happened?” Jeff asked, tilting his head to the side.
So Eddie told them. “He was like a ghost, guys. If Wayne hadn’t seen him too, I would have thought I was hitting Mary Jane a little too hard, you know?”
“I didn’t realize he was getting bullied,” Brian said, frowning. “I would have thought with Hargrove giving the dude a wide berth, that everyone else would have too.”
“Untouchable,” Jeff agreed. “The fact that jocks are now splintering into factions tells you what kind of control Steve actually had on them.”
Eddie rubbed his chin. “I don’t know how true this is, but if Harrington wasn’t lying, he’s a real sweetheart, too.”
Then he leaned forward and explained about the pink heart scheme.
“So,” Gareth said, steepling his fingers and resting his chin on them, “you’re telling us is that we have been seriously remiss in our duties in collecting lost sheep.”
The older teen sighed and shook his head. “I’d like to collect him, but I’m afraid the wolves might decide to rip him apart before we got him to safety if we tried.”
Jeff winced. He knew what Eddie was talking about. Steve Harrington wasn’t the usual lost sheep. He might be bullied now, but as King, Harrington had run far too long with the wolves to think that they could protect him one hundred percent of the time.
“So what are we going to do?” Brian asked. “Because if we let this slide, we’re throwing our lot in with the bullies and that’s something I refuse to do.”
A grin spread out over Eddie’s face, closed lips and dimples entrenched into his cheeks. “We’re going to make the school think that he’s just as popular as he ever was.”
The other three boys looked at each other in confusion.
“So what have you got?” Gareth asked, his own grin starting to take over his face.
****
Eddie made sure to get to class early so he could see where Steve was going to sit. He tried to tell himself it was about the dude’s hand, but it wasn’t working. He wanted to see if the former Hawkins royalty would chose to sit with his old friends or by him again.
He didn’t have long to wait. Steve walked in not long after he did, just as the bell rang. He didn’t even look at his old desk near the front and beelined it for the chair he had sat in on Friday.
The teacher picked up on the change immediately and wrinkled her nose. “I am to suppose that you are taking up permanent residence in the back with Mr. Munson, Mr. Harrington?”
Steve half shrugged as he began to pull out his things for class. “I got more work done, Mrs. Dixon and I really want to graduate on time.”
Mrs. Dixon nodded. “Agreed and as long as you continue the level of attention from last week, you are permitted to stay there.”
About half way through class while Mrs. Dixon was grading papers, Tommy H. turned around and kicked Steve’s chair. “Suck up,” he hissed.
Steve puckered his lips and wagged his eyebrows. “Why? Do you want to be next?”
Tommy turned back around, his face bright red.
Eddie raised an eyebrow and cocked his head to the side as he considered everything about that interaction.
A little blossom of hope sprouted in his chest and he fought to keep it down. Steve had insinuated that other people were gay for years, but to Eddie’s highly trained gay ears, that sounded like Steve was offering to suck Tommy H.’s dick and that Tommy didn’t exactly turn him down.
Curiouser and curiouser, he thought tapping his lips thoughtfully. More research would have to be done.
He pulled out a different notebook, the one he used for campaign notes and song lyrics.
He wrote girls over one column and boys over the other and began tallying what he knew about the former King of Hawkins.
A shit ton went into the Steve liking girls column, but there was surprisingly more in the liking boys column then he would have thought possible. He looked up to catch Steve smirking at him.
Eddie quickly covered his notebook and stuck his tongue out at Steve.
The other boy shook his head and went back to doing the assignment. Eddie was more careful about what he left out in the open because he didn’t want Steve teased for it nor did he want him to see that Eddie was trying to figure him out.
The bell rang and the notebook was suddenly whisked off his desk.
“Hey!” Eddie cried, looking up to see Steve dancing away with the notebook teasingly. “Stevie!” He grabbed his bag and chased after the other boy. But the other boy was a jock and Eddie was wheezing for breath by the time he caught up with him at his locker.
“Give that back,” he huffed.
Steve gave him a bright smile and handed it back. “I just made a minor addition.”
Eddie frowned as he flipped through the pages but didn’t see anything. Steve took it back and turned to the correct page and leaned close so that only Eddie could hear.
“I trust you’ll keep my secret,” he whispered and then dropped to one knee to start getting into his locker.
Eddie gulped at the sight and turned to the paper to avoid saying something stupid. There in bold capital letters under his girls/guys columns was the word BOTH.
He looked up at Steve who had stood up. Steve winked at him and then walked away, leaving a shocked Eddie behind.
****
Tag List:
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entertext · 1 day
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HGSN 27-3
Chapter (Japanese)
(Please hit the green thumbs up at the end of the Japanese chapter to show support)
Rough translation by me
P1
Waiter: Your Tropical Hawaiian Pancakes ~Served with the Sea Breeze~
Waiter: And your Tropical Parfait, sirs
Tanaka: Thank you
Hikaru: ...Thanks
P2
Tanaka: Mm
(sfx: creak)
Tanaka: Well, please think it over carefully
Tanaka: I'm also just going to do what needs to be done
(sfx: rattle rattle)
P2
(sfx: ka-thunk ga-thunk)
(sfx: ka-thunk ga-thunk)
(sfx: ka-thunk ga-thunk)
(sfx: ka-thunk ga-thunk)
P3
Yoshiki: (There's no such thing as Nounuki-sama)
Yoshiki: (Then what did Hikaru even die for?)
Yoshiki: (What is 'Hikaru' anyway?)
Yoshiki: (What have I been doing all this for...)
Hikaru: Today sure was a lot, huh? ... What should we do tomorrow...?
(sfx: ka-thunk ga-thunk)
(sfx: ka-thunk ga-thunk)
Yoshiki: ...I'm so glad
(sfx: ka-thunk ga-thunk)
P3
Yoshiki: I'm so glad you didn't have to go back to the mountain...
(Hikaru: The monster will go away...)
(Hikaru: Happily ever after.)
(Hikaru: That's for the best.)
Yoshiki: (I'm a monster too)
Yoshiki: (I can't find a place to belong in this cramped world)
Yoshiki: (It's always been hard to breathe)
P6
Yoshiki: (and I've kept myself hidden away)
Yoshiki: (That's why I want him to be saved)
P7
Yoshiki: (Because when I'm with you, I'm saved too)
Yoshiki: (In the end, its just ego)
Yoshiki: (I've said it was for 'Hikaru''s sake, for the village's sake, desperate to shift responsibility...)
Yoshiki: (But in the end, it was all just for me, wasn't it?)
P8
(Yoshiki: You don't need to turn into a human or anything )
Yoshiki: (I went and said something like that...but in the end I'm still seeing him as a human)
Yoshiki: ('Hikaru' and I aren't the same at all)
Yoshiki: (No matter what, he's a real monster that's murdered people, a dangerous existence...)
Yoshiki: (That's why he tried to go back to the mountain)
Yoshiki: (The choice 'Hikaru' made wasn't wrong at all)
Yoshiki: (And yet, I...!)
P9
Yoshiki:
(Because I don't want to be apart from him
Because I don't want to be alone
Because to me, 'Hikaru' is my salvation
Even if anyone else gets hurt
Because 'Hikaru' is important to me
The truth is I might not care what happens to anyone else
Am I maybe still seeing Hikaru in him?
I'm the one treating people's lives too lightly)
Yoshiki: I'm a self-centered asshole...
(sfx: slump)
Hikaru: Huh?
Yoshiki: I've been saying it's for the village or for you
Yoshiki: But it was all...just to serve my ego...
==
Next part: 2024/06/04 (next week)
Twitter Extra (link):
Hikaru: Whoa, he suddenly started crying (LOL)
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orbitariums · 14 hours
Text
warmth | art donaldson + patrick zweig + black fem reader (a snippet)
i miss posting on here real bad and i keep teasing things (christopher moltisanti, richie jerimovich) and not actually writing/releasing them SO i'm putting this snippet of this oneshot i'm writing to encourage myself to actually put this out.
i think this will probably have multiple parts because the tension needs to builddd. and please, let me know y'alls thoughts!!! what do you think, what do you predict is gonna happen, r u thirsting adequately, etc. i love hearing your little comments <333
essentially: reader, patrick and art were childhood best friends who conveniently were all in love with each other, or at least had enough sexual tension to make it feel that way. fast forward almost a decade later, and reader has made it onto the red carpet with her fantastic pen, and patrick and art have gone pro. when she invites them to her house for a star-studded friendsgiving, tensions rise and old doors open, springing forth new possibilities. this is only the beginning.
✮ ⋆ ˚。𖦹 ⋆。°✩
warmth
“We should just turn around now, save ourselves the embarrassment.”
Patrick paid Art no mind, rolling down the window and leaning out of it, pressing the buzzer as you had dutifully instructed them in your email invite. 
“Too late now. Already threw away about a gallon of gas just coming up the hill to this place,” he replied, the sense of ease in his voice only egging Art on even more. 
“Exactly why we should leave. I mean, fuck. Does she have to live on a hill?”
“Residence of [last name], to whom am I speaking?” a male voice rings on the other end. 
“Uh…” Patrick starts, Art reaching up over him, 
“Patrick Zweig and Art Donaldson?”
A silence filled the air. Patrick swatted at Art, forcing him back in his seat. 
“Why’d you say it like a question, dumbass?”
Art stammered, already starting to get red in the face,
“I was --”
The gate swung open and both the boys let out a sigh of relief.
“Thank you!” Patrick chimed, smirking at Art, who seemed to be sinking in his seat. 
✮ ⋆ ˚。𖦹 ⋆。°✩
Meanwhile, you were inside the mansion that you call home, flowing around the kitchen like there weren’t about fifty people milling about and mingling amongst one another. It smelled like something out of Hansel and Gretel -- from the fragrant brown roasted turkey sitting in the oven, to the gourmand scent of perfectly caramelized candied yams, to the vanilla musk perfume you dotted on your wrists. A black mini Schnauzer nipped excitedly at your feet as you added half a cherry tomato to the giant bowl of salad you’ve been prepping for the last twenty minutes. You look like a pro, like a party of this magnitude is no big deal to you.
✮ ⋆ ˚。𖦹 ⋆。°✩
“Do we ring the doorbell? Or maybe… should we knock?” Art questioned, hands tied behind his back as he glanced up at Patrick for answers. 
“It’s open,” Patrick retorted, but he too stood stupefied at the door, like a weary traveler wavering in horrific awe before the mouth of some epic beast. 
“On three?” Art suggested, and when he didn’t hear a response, he started to count, “one… two…”
Patrick stepped in before Art could get to three. Art scoffed, but followed behind him anyway. 
The two of them stood there silently, taking the grandiosity of it all in — the sky-high dome ceiling, two grand wooden staircases directly opposite one another, the shiny verdant porcelain flooring, the Basquiat painting hanging above the wide bookcase directly in front of them. Mouths open, they looked like they were ready to catch flies. 
“Fuuuck me,” Patrick breathed out heavily. Art’s head was stuck staring up at the ceiling, so high he thought it’d never end. 
“You made it.”
Both Art and Patrick seemed to stand straight at the sound of your voice, like soldiers at attention. You almost laughed, but instead you stood there coolly, smiling at them both with your lips and your eyes— in them, a look that was almost knowing, wise beyond your years. It seemed like a lifetime before either of them would speak. They spent half that lifetime practically gawking at you, drinking you in. And how could they not, when you were draped in that cream-colored silk dress, the flowy bottom dancing above your ankles. You looked more beautiful than they remembered you, calmer, secure — of course, they hadn’t seen you since they were teenagers. Now there was this air of timelessness about you that was only just poking at the surface when you were in high school. Now it surrounded you. Something mystic encompassed your entire spirit, dripping from your head to your feet. They’d spent years seeing you from behind a screen, being interviewed on live TV, attending red carpets for award shows, blending in with the Hollywood mecca — another beautiful twenty-something industry talent. But the glow of the television that seemed to give everyone a perfectly filtered sheen was nothing compared to your beauty here. 
“It’s so good to see you,” Patrick broke the silence first, practically lurching forward with open arms to embrace you. His beard scratched against your cheek. You could smell the cologne that was beginning to wear off, mixed with a hint of cigarette smoke. His arms nearly suffocated you.
When he pulled away, you couldn’t help but chuckle at the way he smiled at you so fervently. 
“Good to see you too, Patrick…” you glanced over at the mousy boy who didn’t seem to have changed much since high school. “C’mere, Artie.”
Art chuckled: a nervous huff of relief, inching forward into your open arms and nuzzling his chin into your shoulder, closing his arms around your midwaist. You could smell the aftershave that still clung to his face, and the detergent still fresh from his clothes. 
You pulled away, but took one of each of their hands, squeezing. 
“My two boys. Man, how long has it been?”
“Oh, just a while—”
“Seven years,” Art interjected. 
“Who’s counting, right?” Patrick grinned, making all of you laugh. 
You looked at them almost expectantly, eyes wide like a doe, the slightest smile playing at your lips. They looked back with bated breaths. Always, you were in charge, always. It had been like this since the scabby-kneed days of childhood. If you wanted to play on the swings, they were there on either side of you. You were the queen of the sandbox. In middle school, they snuck extra cookies for you from the lunchroom and fought over who got to surprise you with the treat every day. Senior year of high school, in the hotel room in London, when you had them perched on either side of you like baby birds waiting for mother’s return— when you had both your hands on each of their thighs, had them panting like puppy dogs, inching your hands further and further only to leave the minute you heard “lights out.” 
It had been seven years since then and still, it was the same. Only this time, you were stupidly rich, thanks to the soaring success of your two psychological thriller books turned TV series. It wasn’t that you’d forgotten about them, or didn’t care about them now that you were rich and famous. You’d gotten accepted to study creative writing at Brown, Art went to play at Stanford, and Patrick went on his path to go pro. You were delighted to see that they were only a click away thanks to the internet, just one click away from being reintegrated into your life. Your childhood best friends. 
“C’mon, lunch is almost ready.”
Friendsgiving. Who didn’t love the concept? It was a readily welcomed, wholesome idea — friends of all ages and backgrounds coming together to rehash their Thanksgiving with leftovers, stories from the year, and maybe a game of cards. Except your friendsgiving was attended by A-list actresses, Cannes festival attending screenwriters, and the odd Grammy-nominated artist. And your friendsgiving was not at all an intimate affair — it may as well have been a club party. Most people were outside, dancing, shrieking with laughter, drinking, and skipping their way to their seats. Your backyard was vast and verdant green, with a pool in the center, the perimeter lined with lemon and peach trees, and miles to explore. 
“This is fucking insane, is that Dakota Johnson?” Patrick scoffed. He and Patrick had been left to their own devices yet again, while you flitted around being the hostess with the mostest, easing and gliding about. A laugh here, a clink of glasses there, and a coolness to you that stood in striking comparison with the warmth that stirred deep down inside you. A warmth that could be served with a ladle into goblets, like some elixir with magical properties only you possessed. 
“No, you idiot, that’s— oh shit. That might be Dakota Johnson.” 
Clink clink clink. 
“Everybody, hi, hi! Thank you for coming, please, sit down,” you called out, clinking your glass to get the attention of your guests. Patrick and Art scrambled to find seats, ending up at a table with people who might have been minor celebrities or art critiques or designers -- at least one of those options. 
“I wanna thank you all so much for coming, this really means a lot to me. I know these sorts of things can be really hectic, but you guys make this house feel like a home. I’m glad that some of you will be staying with me for the next few days, there’s always room for more,” you glanced over at Art and Patrick. “Some of you are new friends, some of you I’ve known for far too long. But I think it’s incredibly fucking cool that we’re all here together now in this moment, just enjoying each other’s presence. I do this every year, and every year I meet even more amazing, talented, fascinating people and you all are so dear to my heart. And now, what we’re all waiting for… lunch is served!”
A cacophony of cheers rang out as staff rushed about to place plates in front of everyone. You stood giggling, basking in all of it. Patrick and Art couldn't help but watch on with deeply impressed smiles — you were meant to bask: in glory, in pleasure, in everything. You looked just right standing where you were.
The rest of the afternoon Patrick and Art spent attempting to blend in as best they could. They were pro tennis players, but this was another level of stardom that they couldn’t quite fathom yet. They watched you ruthlessly the entire night, unable to squash those rising feelings of attraction and yearning for you that had never quite simmered to begin with. You’d always been cooler than them, but watching you now there was a certain air to you that belonged to a grown woman, someone comfortable and confident and in their element. You were positively swimming in the sunlight the entire afternoon. It was like you had this sort of magnetic pull to all things good, rich, and warm. People wanted to be around you. And god, did this prove that. 
By night time, people were finally starting to leave. The sun hung low in the darkening sky, making the fairy lights glow stronger now. The few people that were staying with you for the rest of Thanksgiving weekend had disappeared to their rooms. Besides the waitstaff still milling about, clearing the tables, it was just you, Patrick, and Art. The two of them hadn’t meant to stay so long, really. It wasn’t like they were forcing themselves to stick around and be acknowledged by you in a way that felt meaningful. Sure, you’d had your small talk and cracked a few inside jokes, but as much as neither wanted to admit it, they needed more. If it was hard to get your attention before, it was nearly impossible now. They were surrounded by so many people who all wanted to network and talk and introduce themselves, they found themselves mingling with your friends, some of them people who they’d seen on screen in the past year,  more than you. They’d been dragged onto the dance floor multiple times by multiple acquaintances, only to gawk at you swaying your hips rather than actually dance themselves. It became overwhelmingly clear, in their increasingly present desperation, that they should’ve accepted your offer to stay in this castle of a house for the weekend. Neither of them had packed a bag. 
“This is awkward, we’re the only ones left,” Art sighed, still sitting at their table. 
“Let’s just… wait, okay? She might come back out."
"And give us a little speech?"
"Yeah, asshole, maybe she will."
At that very moment, you appeared again, this time clad in a two piece linen pajama set. You didn’t miss the way both their eyes trailed up your legs as you stood in front of them, arms crossed, smiling expectantly. 
“I was hoping you two would still be here,” you said. You glanced between the two of them, that awkward silence filling the air once again. “C’mon. Let’s talk.”
You turned and walked back inside, the two of them trailing behind you.
"Your house is fucking sick by the way. I mean holy shit," Art blurted once you got to the main entrance hall.
"Feel like I just walked into a page of Architectural Digest," Patrick added on.
You led them up the stairs. Both their eyes dropped to your ass, which poked out just a bit from under the pair of shorts you wore. Silently watching the way your body curved as you walked.
"Ha, thanks. I think I did pretty okay for myself," you replied.
You led them to the den on the second floor and sat criss cross apple sauce on the lush green couch. Art sat on your left, Patrick on your right. Patrick spread his legs and Art had one foot up on the couch, bouncing against his knee. 
“Sorry we didn’t get to talk much. I was so busy being the host of the year that I didn’t pay enough attention to you two. My favorites.”
Art chuckled,
“Favorites? You’re just saying that.”
“No, I’m serious! D’you know how much I missed you guys?”
Patrick scoffed playfully,
“All those TV interviews I watched of you? I wouldn’t even be thinking about us.”
You couldn’t help but grin, that warmth coming through once again. It nearly made the two men melt. 
“Well I was. I always think about you guys.”
Now came Patrick’s voice again, a heaviness to it that almost made you jump,
“Do you think about anything specific?”
Although it had been nearly a decade since you’d last seen each other, you didn’t miss a single thing about either of them. Patrick didn’t mince words, and he never shied away from not just hinting at, but blaring his salacious intentions every time he spoke. You tilted your head towards him, a cool smile tugging at your lips. 
“Just what good times we had.”
A silence, accented with a flood of nostalgia and a pointed reference to those “good times” permeated the air. You took a moment to gaze at the two of them ever so softly — enough for them to feel it, but not enough to make them squirm (though, they were easy to make squirm) — before you decimated the silence by slapping your hands down on either of their thighs and squeezing endearingly. 
“So tell me, where’ve you two been? I’m not the only one on TV these days.”
“Ahh, you don’t wanna hear about boring tennis,” Art waved a hand of dismissal. 
You chortled, a trademark of yours that Art and Patrick had always poked fun at in school,
“You’re right, I don’t.”
“You still laugh the same,” Patrick said, grinning like he was trying not to but was unable.
You chuckled, this time low in your throat, and turned your head to face him again. You and Patrick were similar in the sense that you were always pushing the boundaries, tiptoeing closer and closer to the line — but the three of you had never quite established where that was. At some point, you were all just too close to even think about “the line” or “boundaries” — all of you appeared clueless to societal expectations of friendship, spurting a sort of cultlike relationship where everyone else was an outsider. 
“Do I?” smiling at him like you were warning him not to tease. 
“Yeah, that little snort you do,” Patrick replied, unshaken. 
“You do do a little snort,” Art chimed in, always chirping like he spoke from a less nefarious place. 
“And if I get started on you guys’ little tennis grunts?” you grinned fully now, showing teeth, looking between the two of them and leaning back a bit.
They followed, leaning back against the couch and keeping their heads in line with yours so you were never too far away from them, each of them turning their heads to look at you. 
“No way you actually watch us,” Art replied.
“I do!” you insisted. “Seriously, if you’d asked anybody here you would know.”
“Sure, let me just strike up conversation with George Clooney,” Art shot back.
“Ha-ha,” you bleated sarcastically. “I don’t even know him… but I have walked past him once on the carpet.”
“Look at you,” Patrick smirked. “Little Miss Superstar.”
He punctuated his sentence with a hand on your knee. Your eyes flickered over to him and you caught the way his Adam's apple bobbed in his throat when he swallowed, felt the way he gazed up at you. You didn’t miss the desire twinkling in his eyes. 
Then Art, always second but not necessarily last, 
“She’s our little superstar, you know that, right?” 
His hand just gently grazing your shoulder.
You let them revel in the moment for as long as you felt appropriate, then huffed.
“You know you guys can stay for the weekend, right? I mean, you should.”
“Oh… no, we wouldn’t wanna impose,” Patrick said, his hand slinking away from your knee.
Another chortle from you, this time the kind that said everything about how you lived in comparison to them,
“You wouldn’t be. This is a five bedroom house. It’s fine. Besides, don’t you guys wanna actually catch up? I’ll let you torture me with tennis talk.”
Art started to stammer,
“I-I mean… we didn’t bring anything.”
“Just our idiot selves,” Patrick added.
“Don’t worry. I’ll get Charles to get you guys all set up.”
“Charles?”
“Oh, he’s my assistant,” you said nonchalantly, as if it were nothing. “You’re not fighting me on this. I want to spend some quality time with my boys. Don’t make me have to beg for it.”
“We could never make you beg for anything,” Art replied, just a little too quickly. 
“I know, Art, that’s why I love you,” you grinned over at him. “So, are we all in agreement? Stay with me. Just this weekend.”
“Yes,” they both replied a little too quickly this time. 
You bit your lip, suppressing a smile. 
“You know… I really, really missed you guys. And those good times we had.”
You let the memory of that night of almosts in London resurge, let their minds run amuck with whatever teenage fantasy was still left over from that night. A moment so brief it could almost be forgotten, could even be flagged as incidental, accidental, but the three of you knew, even as grown adults (especially as grown adults), that it would always stick and remain unresolved, unless someone ran to the rescue with some sort of solution. Once again they held their breaths. You stood up, glanced between the two of them like you were sizing them up, and then smiled as if nothing had happened at all — you let them breath. 
“Your bedroom’s the second on the right when you leave here. Charles will help you get set up— I’ll see you guys in the morning for breakfast.”
And just like that, you were gone. The air in the room seemed to clear. Your presence was like a thousand tons of pressure weighing on their bodies and their minds. Finally, they could breathe.
They glanced at each other with the same longing, almost nervous expression — high school all over again.
✮ ⋆ ˚。𖦹 ⋆。°✩
eek let me know what y'all thought. i wanna finish it by this week <3
70 notes · View notes
anitalianfrie · 2 days
Note
I am begging you to translate this: https://www.instagram.com/reel/C7eN1flsqvO/?igsh=Y3R5MGFuMWdiZzNr
(It is several minutes long though and will probably be a huge pain so no pressure!)
sure! here's the link . I recommend watching the video while you read this bc the volg is cut really weird, there's not one long conversation and what happens in the video is pretty useful to understand what's going on in the translation. unfortunately i wasn't able to translate some bits, but i tried my best
as always, my comments/specifications are in between []
Mig: hello everyone, I've arrived at bez's house. Cele's not here yet
Mig: hey
Bez: sium
Mig: I couldn't not start a video like this, could i?
Bez: with the plane
Mig: with the plane. it gives it the look of a vlog, doesn't it? We're waiting for Cele
Bez: the excruciating wait
--
Cele: I'm at the roundabout, the one with the car dealers
Bez: what car dealer bro?
Cele: ehhhh, the ones that-
mig: what kind of question is that
Cele: i don't know, anyways i'm here, two minutes and i'm there
Bez: okay, okay
Mig: two minutes like those before, or two real minutes?
Bez: sorry, but what car does he have?
Cele: the Cupra
Bez: yes, here he is, here he is
Mig: listen to him
Mig: tac!
Mig: in the end, [something i don't get]
Bez: we're ready
Cele: the boots for Mugello, because I go to Mugello. With stile.
Mig: well, it's not like those boots are super new. Understandable. you- why-
Bez: one different from the other
Mig: one different from the other
Cele: obviously. I even have another pair even more broken
Mig: but the backpack is the right one
Cele: yes [something i don't get]
Mig: well i mean, we stay away the night but, whatever. everybody- this pair [of boots] is in a bit of a better state than the other one
Cele: yes. better. [cele shows the boot to the camera]
Mig: this one is perfect
Cele: nooo
Mig: two left boots
Bez: but the others are left and right
Cele: yes, I know, but-
Mig: what shoe size do you wear?
Cele: but what if I slip on the left?
Mig: what's your shoe size bro?
Cele: 40, 41, 42
Mig: You can borrow mine
--
[then mig googles a scarperia (shoe shop) and google maps pinpoints a place/village named scarperia near florence]
[here's the song they were listening to in the car]
--
Franky: Marco
Bez: Franky! how is it?
Franky: everything's okay
Mig: hi Chicco! [chicco is usually the nickname given to people named federico. knowing mig this is a reference of some sort i'm not able to place]
Bez: yes, we were doing a round fo calls, we wanted to know how you were
Franky: everythings alright
Franky: there's also Celestino, what is he doing
Cele: hi Franco
Franky: what is he doing?
BEz: he's here, he's here
Mig: hi Franco!
Franky: hi Celes!
Cele: hi!
[i assume bez's laugh here is bc franco is completely ignoring mig wich. hilarious to me]
Franco: hi!
--
[second song they were listening to. yes it's calcutta i almost couldn't believe my ears]
mig: we're here. one hour and- almost two hours later
--
Bez: ohi where are you?
Pecco: at the hotel
Bez: in hotel?
Pecco: have you arrived yet?
Bez: ah so you've arrived before us
Pecco: well, obviously
Mig: we're here
Bez: we've arrived just now
Pecco: ok, then now we'll go downstairs, let's meet in the lobby at eight. which is now.
Bez: we're here now, now we park
Mig: i would do the check in, and then we go back downstairs
--
Mig: here they are, here they are
Mig: it's like in shining
Cele: we can go to misano directly tomorrow
Pecco: if we go back in time, we go
--
Mig: hello everyone, ehhh we're ready we've woken up and now we go to the circuit, we go to the others
Mig: now, where are our champions? Let's go see near the car. oh, here they are
Mig: Come on! Good morning! Let's go, come on! and sbam!
--
Mig: you do the greeting, this is the classical greeting when you arrive at the circuit, you rise your hand
--
Guy: - because we were thinking of putting down the names of singers, or-
Cami: the name on the transponder is the name of a singer
Pecco: for me either Steve Taylor or Francesco Renga. Now i have to decide
Franco: good morning
--
Mig: ehhh, what's the theme? Singers or bands, or like is it the same...
Guy: singers
--
Mig: my denstist will be proud of me. Shoutout to Doctor Bausi, he's the number one. Super important [something i don't get bc of the toothbrush]
Bez: you cut three, four tens of a second each lap
--
[all the conversations in the box were either very difficult to hear or with too little context to make them translatable (or even useful to translate) sorry]
--
Mig: well guys, this is all, from the track, now the return trip awaits us
--
Mig: that's true, we stayed on the phone the whole time, but now we're here.
Bez: yeah
Mig: bye. we're here, and nothing else. we go home, it was amazing, and... do you have something to declare to end this- here there's a knee slider by the way, i guess it's vietti's... is it yours?
Bez: i declare that.. this return trip has been one of the greatest trip of all time, with a group phone call of...
Mig: one hour and fifteen
Bez: one hour and fifteen
Mig: since before Bologna
Bez: we never felt alone, we felt cuddled by our friends
Cele: we never felt this close
--
Mig: there's a spider, it doesn't open
Bez: can i say it now? you didn't do as you- what is that, what rug is that?
Mig: it's nice isn't it
Bez: where did you stole it from?
Mig: i bought it. I bought it from Toriani, a carpet- from Toriani Tavullia's hardware store, a rug with the sun and the moon, for a step, this a step rug
--
Mig: bye everyone, it's been great
Cele: thank you [while hugging bez]
Mig: it's been a pleasure
72 notes · View notes
alienpossession · 1 day
Text
After a very demanding workout session and having several hours to spend before his date, Dean decided to slide into his Instagram and treated his close friends with some personal Q&A sesh
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But, all the close friend and Dean himself are not necessarily of this world, to put it simply. Hence, the question that started to pile up might not sound like a series of question that you would ask in a normal human conversation
"How can you end up in his body? What's the trick? My host is a decent-sized jock and the battle to gain control over his body was crazy tough, cannot imagine yours,"
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I just followed the manual, you know. Caught them off-guard and ensure that they are tired. He fell asleep inside this personal sauna after a grueling workout. Add the fact that he was cutting to prep himself for a bodybuilding competition, well, that's a cocktail for success to tame a beastly jock this size
"Is the sexual stamina better compared to your previous host, noting the size differences 😜😜"
LOL, sorry for the disappointment back then, Gustavo. There's not a lot of people that can withstand your sexual prowess anyway, but I'm definitely the top if we are ever hooking up again
"How do you handle the first 24 hours? The crash after all his memory become accessible must've been out of this world!"
Messed my bed like a baby, but it's cum and sweat instead of piss HAHAH. Yeah, crazy shit, dude is a horny, power-hungry muscle beast
"So, have you converted his significant others? Or do you plan to just mindfuck them later so they will be working as indentured labor?"
Nope, not yet. He lived on his own anyway so we gotta wait for the 4th of July break for it to happen. But the girlfriend already fell though, bitch never stood a chance once I plugged her throat with this monster, she was a sobbing flailing mess when mini-mes swarmed her throat and entire body. Now I told her to help out on slowly infecting my friends. Gotta do it subtly though, no reason actually, just love to play with those oblivious human
"Favorite thing to do as human, aside from sex obviously,"
To be honest, partying. It's just so nice being a 6'6", 225 lbs mass of a presence in a dark, packed club or even festival grounds with great music. I always have party or at least a night out inside my calendar for most of the week, such a blast. And of course, sex also involved to really spice things up, but honestly I don't mind if there's any sex or not as long as the party is lit
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And Dean keep on answering all sort of other questions, thinking that his identity as a converted alien puppet remain hidden due to the close friends feature. But his little brother, a 21 years old sophomore living 300 miles away from him, took screenshot of every single close friend stories that Dean made, his mind distraught by the fact that his older brother practically no longer exist but his dick chubbed up to the point of leaking pre as his wildest sexual kink manifested in real time and happened to someone he personally knows.
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So, like any horny 21 years old, he decided to rub one out while letting his brother stories played in loop. Should he confront Dean about all of this? Or will that risk him turned into a puppet too?
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mysterycitrus · 21 hours
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AHHHH greta your ranking of people that deaged! dick met,,, im chewing ice furiously. it's so so heartbreaking to think about because both tim and damian (esp damian) are so adamant in their belief that being robin was a good thing, maybe the best thing to happen to them. in fact, each robin feels that way (even jason and to a certain degree, steph!!!). and that is so at war with dick's internal belief that his mother's name, the grayson legacy, his legacy- has been bastardized,,, the colours being gone from damian's suit, especially!! it would be so hard for deaged!dick to reconcile that he was, in fact, the one who primarily designed damian's suit but to him (current!dick), that erosion of the colours and his legacy was exactly that- an erosion- it happened gradually and over time and too often, dick felt like a bystander with a lack of agency despite the fact that each subsequent robin was looking to him for approval or guidance or commiseration or just understanding. if deaged!dick had exactly any idea how much of an enabler he has been, too in what robin became to mean to gotham, to all these kids, i think he would actually combust from self-hatred (beyond what he has assumed and gleaned from events in fic!verse). anyway, I just wanted to say i read the newest chapter and actually lost all semblance of being able to articulate anything i was feeling. it all just felt like GRIEF. the awful, awful burning feeling of being seventeen, I think if I had to meet 17 yo me, I, too would actually want to die. it truly, truly was a joy to read and I'm so grateful you shared this fic with us,,, ur brain is so BIG!!! thank you for sharing your words with us im gonna be thinking about it all for days and days <3
tyvm!!! really really glad it resonated!! it’s interesting how part 3 is being read cause to me like…. as much as no one can understand his mindset, 17yo dick grayson is just not equipped to understand exactly how much the world has changed in a decade. he notices that the manor has been rebuilt, and that the gotham skyline has changed, but how would one explain death in the family, or the cataclysm, or no man’s land, or knightfall, or contagion, or the crisis, or donna and bruce’s deaths? can he really understand that being robin was a bright spot in these kids lives, regardless of the grief? that’s the nature of the tragedy — things are so much worse and so much better than he could imagine.
in saying that though — there’s a lot dick will let slide because he and bruce love each other to the point of ruin. that’s something dick, ten years younger and hurting and grieving, was immediately able to clock. what dick does as an adult, the purposeful distance he build around himself from others, both protects and hurts him. he keeps his cards so close to his chest. he fears being truly seen. in this post-crisis universe, when his role as robin ended in heartbreak, was there ever a point when it could’ve passed on peacefully? or is he doomed to repeat that cycle, however intentionally kind, to tim?
he is a witness to his own grief. he is loved, but every action they take proves that these people don’t know him. he cannot change what has already happened. he is trapped in a past that is long since over. if he understood how hurt bruce had been, the extent to which robin was a crutch for his sense of control, what would he think? if he understood what happened to stephanie — bruces fear pushed to an absolute limit to devastating results — would he be able to live with himself? would he recognise himself at all? like the ship of theseus, he is slowly stripped of everything but name. everything is so precious that sharing it is painful.
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dunmeshistash · 1 day
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I’ve been seeing a lot of complaints abt lack of diversity in dunmeshi since the animation. What do u think abt it? Like I get wanting representation and giving black and brown ppl more characters to relate to would be absolutely fabulous, but I also feel that the western fandom are sometimes too entitled with things like that. I even see some ppl completely discrediting the whole show just bc there wasn’t a black character? This was meant for Japanese ppl. Most mangakas don’t expect their work to be animated initially unless they are already hugely successful and therefore don’t expect to get a major international audience, so the representation they put in will inherently be more relevant to Japanese ppl. But then again Japan does have a small but still significant black population, especially in the big cities so it’s still sth reasonable to ask for. Just, u know, not sth to discredit the whole show for especially considering the medium I think.
I must preface this once again by saying I'm just some guy™️and I'm not gonna say if it is or isn't good representation cause that's subjective. Rather I'll try to explain what I think about people's reactions (cause that's interesting to me)
I understand the complaints about the lack of diversity, and I don't think "this was made for a japanese audience" to be a good argument since the basis of the story and most of the characters are based on western fantasy. So most of the characters aren't even japanese, so it wasn't really a case of relatability.
I believe the arguments of lack of representation dungeon meshi suffers probably comes from a backlash to the overwhelming praise it gets, I think some people (me included sometimes) get a little too overexcited and overpraise it, especially when it comes to the representation.
We compare it to other anime and I think for that we kinda exaggerate on how much representation there actually is, cause most anime has none. So I guess some people dislike that the "bare minimum" is being praised as if is revolutionary, it can be frustrating for someone that wishes for good and real representation for themselves when they see the safest representation ever being praised as something out of the ordinary. I guess anime fans (ME INCLUDED) are like battered partners as soon as we get someone that treats us like human beings well we think they're god lmao.
The internet hates subtlety and critical thinking tho. So "It's not as good representation as you're hyping it up to be" becomes "this has shit representation" and people ignore that it IS a step on the right direction, especially when it comes to anime.
I think dungeon meshi is pretty cool representation wise for what it is tbh, especially when it comes to character design. Ryoko Kui is a master of representing varying people of all shapes and sizes, and I can tell as an artists she makes an effort with what she draws.
Why the main character are the most convetionally atractive well built ones, Why her drawings outside dungeon meshi are so much more diverse than dungeon meshi itself etc is things we can only guess 👍 (remembering that yeah, she doesn't really draw black people even outside dunmeshi)
Anyway once again I just think nuance is the ideal, it doesn't need to be "the best representation ever" nor "the worst representation ever" it is what it is, there's good things about it, bad things about it and okay things about it.
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