#these were drawn like 3 or 4 weeks apart
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then and now 🏐
#Haikyuu#hq!! fanart#haikyuu hinata#hinata#kageyama tobio#kageyama fanart#anime fanart#manga fanart#my art#these were drawn like 3 or 4 weeks apart#so if the colours don’t match that is the reason why
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I Hear Them Calling (Chapter 7)
Story Summary: Alpha Harry Styles and omega Y/N Y/L/N meet under less than ideal circumstances. Overtime their paths will cross and they will be drawn to one another in ways they never expected.
Chapter Summary: Y/N deals with going off her medications and being apart from Harry. They finally reconnect to spend the holidays together.
Previous Chapters: Prologue ; Chapter 1 ; Chapter 2 ; Chapter 3 ; Chapter 4 ; Chapter 5 ; Chapter 6
Word Count: 6k
CW: smut
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The first week without suppressants and soothers isn’t awful. There's just enough of the medication still in your system to keep you feeling somewhat normal. Plus, your nest, really your entire apartment, is still holding on to Harry’s scent.
You continue to sacrifice sleep so you can watch live streams of Harry’s shows. You’re pleasantly surprised to see “Canyon Moon” back on the set list. You can’t help but wonder if it has anything to do with you telling him that it’s your favorite song.
Those first days lull you into a false sense of security. Maybe letting your omega out, living as nature intended, won’t be the worst thing.
But after that first week, things start to take a turn. Your system is definitely cleared of the meds now. And Harry’s scent has faded from your nest and apartment. You sleep restlessly Tuesday night, and Wednesday morning is rough. Not only are the touch deprivation symptoms coming back, but now you’re exhausted on top of it. Part of you wants to open another bag of scented items that Harry gave you so you can fix your nest. But that would be silly since you’re traveling home this afternoon to be with your family for Thanksgiving.
Instead, you decide to pack one of those bags with you, so you have his scent if needed. You realize that you likely won’t, since being around your family tends to soothe your omega. While packs don’t really exist anymore there’s still an inherent connection to family members that simulates the connection of packmates.
Your cousins know you're an omega, and though no one ever explicitly talks about it, they take care of you in little ways. They subtly check on you, or they’ll create a makeshift nest of blankets so that you all can cuddle together during movie nights. Even though they’re betas, their presence, and their obvious love for you has always helped keep you balanced.
Plus, your oldest cousin now has two pups, one a toddler and one only a few months old. No one complains when you baby hog them, knowing that holding a pup is also very soothing for an omega.
Reenergized at the thought of seeing your family, you’re able to get out of bed and finish packing, making sure to include one unopened bag of Harry’s scented items just in case.
After finishing the last two projects you’re doing for work, you start the hour-long drive home. When you arrive, you’re greeted by your parents, aunt, uncle, and one of your cousins. They’ll all be staying at the house, while your other two out of town cousins, along with their spouses and the kids, rented an Airbnb nearby.
You and your cousin Kelly will be sharing your room. It’s not the first time, since you’re an only child and she’s the youngest of three so you were often put together during family trips. She’s a couple years younger, in her final year of college, but the two of you have always been close. She’s also a huge Harry Styles fan and you kind of can’t wait to spill the beans about your relationship with him.
It’s a chaotic afternoon as you all work on preparing the house to host everyone for the next few days. Everyone comes over for pizza dinner and it’s wonderful to be surrounded by so many people. There’s music playing, conversations flowing, and constant laughter. You sit and color with your cousin’s son and get some baby cuddles with her daughter. It’s a perfect night and takes your mind off your problems for the moment.
That night, you and Kelly are getting ready for bed when your phone buzzes. You quickly turn to grab it but she’s faster. You see the screen for a second and there’s definitely a text from Harry.
He’s saved in your phone as just “Harry”, so she doesn’t know exactly who you’re talking to, as evidenced by her immediately asking “Ooooh who’s Harry?”
“I’m going to tell you, but you cannot freak out, or tell anyone else yet, okay?” you reply.
She nods yes with a comically serious look on her face.
“Harry is Harry Styles.”
For a moment there is silence as she stares at you blankly. You’re startled when she suddenly shouts “WHAT?”
You jump before quickly shushing her, as you don’t want either of your parents to find out what you’re talking about.
“If you promise to stay quiet, I’ll tell you the whole story,” you state.
Kelly quickly sits down and mimes locking her lips shut, showing that she intends to listen. You sit on the bed across from her and dive in, starting from the first concert of his you went to, all the way until his visit last week. She listens intently, eyes wide in disbelief.
“So. Harry Styles is your boyfriend? And your alpha?” She says, and you nod to confirm. It sends butterflies through your belly, hearing someone else refer to Harry in that way. It’s been such a well-kept secret since the first interaction and it’s so nice to have someone close to you know all the details. It almost makes it more real somehow.
After answering all of Kelly’s questions she gets up to finish getting ready for bed. You pull up your phone to answer Harry’s text from earlier. He was reaching out to check on you and wish you a good night, and it warms your heart to know you’re on his mind even countries apart.
You sleep well that night and wake up feeling refreshed on Thanksgiving morning. After a quick breakfast and cup of tea you get down to business to help your mom prepare for dinner. The rest of your family arrives in the early afternoon and the party is soon in full swing.
The next morning is slow and lazy, everyone just hanging out and watching movies together. You all enjoy the Thanksgiving leftovers throughout the day, and by mid-afternoon you’ve brought out a few different games to play together. You’re feeling great, though you do with you could have your alpha by your side. That would make it truly perfect.
That night you and Kelly lay in bed watching a livestream of Harry’s show. The next morning everyone packs up to travel back home, including you.
Your apartment now feels extra lonely, so you quickly shower before building a new nest using the items Harry gave you. Since he doesn’t have a show, you Facetime for hours that afternoon. You tell him all about your visit home and fills you in on how his time in Mexico was.
You discuss when you can see each other again, a conversation which should make you happy, but instead becomes a bit stressful. While you want nothing more than to join Harry on tour, there’s still up to three weeks until your passport is definitely going to arrive. You’d never left the country before, never had plans to, and so you never really thought about getting one. If you could go back in time, you’d slap past you or being so unprepared.
“Christmas is more than three weeks away,” Harry says. “Would you consider coming to England for the holidays?”
“Like, with your family?” you inquire.
“I’d like for you to meet them,” he replies. “It’s going to be low-key this year. Just mum, Gemma, and Michal.”
“Okay. Yea, that sounds fun!” It does. Totally fun. Only fun. Not stressful at all to meet the family so soon.
“Do you think it’ll be a problem with your parents?”
“They’ve always wanted to spend the holidays on a vacation to South Carolina. Maybe I’ll make that my gift to them and then everyone will be happy,” you answer. It’s something you’ve wanted to do for them for years anyway and you finally have more than enough money in savings to make it happen.
“That sounds really nice,” he says. “How long do you think you can come for? I’d love to have you here for Christmas and New Years if possible.”
“I could do that. The next couple weeks will be busy at work, but it calms way down by Christmas. I’ll obviously have to work a bit while I’m there, but it shouldn’t be too bad.”
“Fantastic! I’ll get a potential itinerary over to you and you can let me know if it needs any changes.”
You talk a little longer before hanging up to go to sleep. You’re feeling better now knowing that you have plans to see him, even if you are disappointed that it’s still a month away.
And what an awful month it turns out to be. Harry does everything he can to be helpful, but there’s just not much he can do for touch deprivation from a distance. You talk on the phone as much as possible and the scented clothes he sent you are a true lifesaver. But every day becomes a struggle. The constant itch causes you to scratch your skin raw, no number of blankets can get you warm, and you’ve had to cut way down on exercise since it always leaves you dizzy.
You’re so exhausted that packing is a nearly full day chore, but the knowledge that you’ll see Harry in less than 48 hours is enough to motivate you to finish the task. You’re taking the red eye and landing in the morning the day before Christmas. Harry informed you a few days prior that he’ll be in London for a meeting when you land, and that Gemma will be picking you up. You’re disappointed that you won’t see him right away, but he promised he’ll be there in time for dinner.
Your normal travel anxiety is ten times worse than usual, partially due to it being your first international flight and partially due to the lack of suppressants and soothers that you’d relied on for years. Harry had insisted on purchasing you a first-class ticket, which you fought him on, saying it was unnecessary. But now that you’ve finished boarding, you’re grateful. You’re already overstimulated from being around so many people in the airport and it’s nice to have so much space during the flight.
You try to get some rest but for some reason you just cannot fall asleep. Instead, you listen to the podcasts you downloaded while curled up, face tucked into Harry’s sweater that you saved just for this trip.
The moment you land you get a text from Gemma that she’s on her way and will be there in half an hour, giving you time to collect your luggage and get to the pickup area. You’re too tired to be nervous about meeting your boyfriend’s sister for the first time, which is a true blessing at this moment.
You’re only waiting outside for a minute before you see her pull up. She hops out of the car to greet you with a hug and help you get your suitcase into the trunk.
She makes conversation throughout the drive, but can tell you’re exhausted and says, “Mums got some breakfast waiting at home and Harry’s room is ready for you, so you can get a nap before he gets back.”
She pulls up to the house a moment later and quickly grabs your bag before leading you inside.
“Mum!” she calls out as she opens the door. Moments later, Anne steps into the entryway and pulls you in for a hug, saying, “It’s so nice to finally meet you! Harry cannot stop talking about you.” You smile and blush at that and reply, “It’s nice to meet you as well. Thank you for having me.”
“Of course! We couldn’t be more excited that you’re joining us for the holidays! Now come, you must be starving.”
She leads you into the kitchen and the three of you sit together and have a late breakfast. They do most of the talking, which you appreciate.
After you’re done eating you try to clean up, but Anne stops you saying, “Leave everything, please, you’re our guest. You must be tired; Gemma can bring you up to Harry’s room so you can rest a bit.”
“That would be great, thank you so much,” you reply.
Gemma leads you upstairs, pointing out the bathroom before leading you to Harry’s bedroom. You’re immediately hit with his scent, so potent that for a second you think he must be there with you.
You quickly scan the room, taking in the decorations and all his books and belongings. It’s like a shrine of Harry, and you want to examine everything, but you’re truly exhausted. As soon as Gemma steps out you start getting ready for a nap. There’s a pile of clothes on the bed, a t-shirt and some pajama pants. They’re doused in Harry’s scent and without even thinking, you change into them.
The room starts to spin around you, and you immediately get into bed. The world goes black the second your head hits the pillow.
Nearly two hours later Harry arrives home. He’s earlier than expected thanks to his afternoon meeting getting cancelled. You’re unaware of his return, still knocked out in his bed.
“Hi Mum, hey Gemma,” he says, walking into the living room where the two of them are watching a movie together.
“Harry! We didn’t expect you for quite a while, dear,” Anne replies.
“Last meeting was cancelled, apparently there’s a storm up north so half the team couldn’t make it. They’ll reschedule after the holidays. Is Y/N here?” As much as he enjoys talking with his family, he hasn’t seen you in over a month and doesn’t want to spend another minute away from you.
“Yea, she’s taking a nap in your room,” Gemma replies.
Harry sniffs the air before saying, “Hm, that’s odd,” and sniffing the air again.
“What is?”
“I can’t catch her scent.”
“She probably wore some strong scent blockers for the flight,” Anne reassures him, picking up on his shift from excited to worried.
“Probably,” he replies, but he’s not sold on that explanation. “I’m just gonna go up and check on her.”
He turns and heads upstairs, stopping in the bathroom quickly to wash his hands and splash some water on his face, before changing into a clean outfit he’d left in there earlier. He knows you’ve likely been bombarded with other scents during your travels and wants to make sure no strangers scents cling to him.
Once he’s sure he smells only of himself, he crosses the hall. He knocks on the door gently but enters slowly when he gets no reply. At first he thinks you’re sleeping. You look asleep, curled up in his blankets. But you don’t seem at rest.
Your breathing is rapid, not deep and even like it would be if you’re asleep. And he can hear the faint whimpers that indicate you’re distressed. He stands there for a moment, shocked at the state he found you in, but another whine from you kicks him into action.
He turns out of the room, shouting for Gemma to come upstairs. She runs up, hearing the edge of panic in her little brother’s voice.
“How long has Y/N been up here?” he asks, needing as much information as he can get.
“Maybe two hours. Why? What’s going on?”
“Did she seem like, upset at all? Or spacey or dizzy? Did she seem off in any way?”
“Not that I noticed. She was just really tired. Harry, what is it?”
“I think she dropped,” he replies.
It’s quiet for a moment before Gemma says, “You said she had to go off her medications right? And she’s been without her alpha for a month, so she has some intense touch deprivation. Plus, she’s exhausted from traveling to another country. Being in your space, which probably reeks of your scent, might have put her omega over the edge.”
Harry nods along, knowing his sister is probably right.
“I should’ve been with her. Gemma, I have no idea what type of drop this is! Maybe it’s a good one because she’s in my space, but she seems distressed.”
“Harry, take a breath. You know what you need to do right now. So calm down and be there for your omega. Would you feel better if mum and I left? Gave you guys some privacy?”
“I don’t want to kick you guys out.”
“Of course not. We have some last-minute shopping to do. We were just waiting until you came home. Go, take care of your girl. We’ll see you later. And call if you need anything, okay?”
“Okay. Thank you Gems,” he replies. Gemma walks downstairs and Harry takes a minute to calm himself. He knows that he needs his emotions in check to be able to help you. Just as he’s confident that his feelings won’t negatively affect you he hears the front door close, indicating that the two of you are now alone in the house.
He walks into the room and finds that you haven’t moved. He first crouches by the bed, leaning close in hopes that you’ll notice he’s there and he won’t startle you. There’s no change so he starts to emit calming pheromones. This seems to catch your attention, and Harry watches as you subconsciously seek him out.
Now that you seem to know that your alpha is there, he climbs into the bed with you. He does so slowly, watching your reaction the whole time. He gently shifts you to hold you against his chest and angles your face so that your nose is against his scent gland. He continues to let out the calming pheromones which seem to be working, as you’ve stopped whimpering.
Harry gives you some time to stay under, but he’s fairly sure this is a bad drop, so he starts to bring you out sooner than later.
“It’s time to come up, omega,” he says. “Can you come back to me? I’d really like to see you. Been waiting so long.”
It doesn’t work right away, but after a few minutes of Harry talking to you, the haze of the drop starts to fade. Finally, your eyes blink open and meet his.
“There you are,” he says, his voice relieved.
“Alpha?” you say, still dazed and confused. Your body feels heavy, and you don’t recognize your surroundings. Everything feels strange, but you know that you’re okay, now that your alpha is there.
“I’m here, omega. I’ve got you.” You’re immediately soothed by his presence, and by his words. Your brain finally clicks on, and you fully realize that you’re in Harry’s room, in his arms. You begin to shift, Harry reaching out to make sure you’re steady. He realizes what you’re trying to do and moves as well until you’re situated in a way that you can both scent each other at the same time.
You sigh as his nose brushes against your scent glad before doing the same to him. It isn’t long before your scents mix together to fill the room.
“Are you alright, love?” Harry asks.
“I’m good, now that you’re here,” you truthfully reply, blushing at your vulnerable statement.
“I’ve missed you, so much,” he says before moving to kiss you. His lips move lazily against yours, and you have to swallow back a whine at the feeling of him against you.
After a couple minutes he pulls back and says, “Mum and Gemma are out. What would you like to do next? Do you want to sleep a little more, or eat, or take a shower?”
You think about it for a moment and reply, “Can we take a bath?”
“We? Together?” he questions.
You blush and say, “I definitely want to wash all the travel grime off me, but I kind of don’t want to leave your side. It’s that’s okay with you.”
“It’s more than okay with me, as long as you’re comfortable.”
“I am,” you say with a shy smile.
You both get out of bed, and Harry collects towels and clean clothes for both of you. He then fills the tub, pulling his shirt off so he can test the water without his sleeve getting wet. Your heart starts to race as you realize that you’re both about to see each other naked for the first time. For some reason you’re grateful that it’s in this setting, rather than a sexual one. It lessens the nerves, knowing that there’s no expectations here.
He slides off his pants, leaving him in boxer briefs. You do the same, then throw your shirt off as well before you can overthink too much. You weren’t wearing a bra, meaning your chest is now exposed to Harry. He takes a deep breath before saying, “You’re beautiful.”
Harry quickly shuts the water off and turns back to you. “We can stay like this if you’d like? Keep our underpants on?”
You shake your head no and your hands go to the waistband of your panties.
“Together?” you ask.
“Together,” he replies, and follows your lead, slowly lowering his underwear until you’re both standing there, completely bare. You fight off the urge to cover your body and hear Harry quietly say, “Absolutely perfect.” This compliment gives you the courage to look up, and your eyes quickly scan over him, briefly stopping at his groin. Your breath stutters as you take in his impressive size, and his smirks when he notices.
“C’mon,” he says. “Let’s get in before the water cools.”
He has you get in first, keeping you steady so you don’t slip. He slides in behind you and gently pulls you, so your back is resting against his chest. You feel his groin brush your skin, and tense for a moment before relaxing. You’re surprisingly comfortable with the whole situation.
You both stay like that, silently relaxing and enjoying each other’s company. Eventually, Harry says, “Scooch forward, let me wash your hair.”
He does so, first shampooing, then putting in conditioner, being extremely gentle as he does so. He then grabs a shower puff and spreads some body wash on it, before giving you a look asking if it’s okay for him to clean your body. You nod yes, and he focuses on rubbing the soap over your limbs and torso. He makes a mental note of the scratch marks on your skin, and frowns at how bad your touch deprivation must have been to cause this. He hesitates with his hand resting on your thigh. You open your legs slightly, silently giving him permission to clean between them as well. A gasp escapes your mouth at the feeling, but it only lasts a moment before he’s done and moving away.
Harry quickly washes himself as well, and by the time you’re both soap free, the water has become uncomfortably cool. He gets out and dries off first before helping you again and wrapping you in a fluffy towel.
Once you’re dry you both get dressed and head downstairs to watch a movie together. That’s how Anne and Gemma find you when they arrive home an hour later.
After talking for a few minutes Harry checks the time and gets up, saying, “I should really get started on dinner.”
“Want any help?” Anne asks but he quickly shakes his head and says, “I’ve got it, you girls relax.”
You last five, maybe ten minutes before you’re making an excuse to join Harry in the kitchen.
“Hey, you,” he says when you walk into the room. “Miss me?” he asks jokingly.
You chuckle awkwardly, not wanting to admit that he’s right. It feels clingy, but you’re still shaking off the drop, and the touch deprivation, and being away from Harry is physically painful. He picks up on this and immediately stops what he’s doing to focus on you. He pulls you in for a hug and whispers, “I missed you too.”
You stay in the kitchen with him, helping chop veggies for the stir fry. As soon as it’s ready the four of you sit together at the table. The food is delicious, because of course Harry’s a good cook on top of his other talents. After dinner is done and cleaned up you’re all back at the table with mugs of tea.
Though it’s not exactly late, you find it hard to keep your eyes open. Harry immediately senses how sleepy you are, and the two of you say a quick goodnight to Anne and Gemma before heading upstairs. You brush your teeth side-by-side in the bathroom, feeling very domestic. He hands you some of his clothes to wear to bed.
“I did pack my own clothes you know,” you say while changing into the ones he gave you.
“I know, but you just look so cute in mine,” he replies, his eyes soft as he looks at you in a pair of his pajama pants and an oversized sweater.
The two of you get into bed and Harry opens his arms for you. After getting comfortable together you quickly fall into a peaceful, dreamless sleep.
Christmas eve, Christmas, and Boxing Day pass with lots of gifts exchanged, movies watched, games played, and meals shared. The rest of the week is both exciting and relaxing. You do a little work each morning before going on an adventure with Harry and then ending the day with a movie.
It’s wonderful getting to know Harry’s family and see where he grew up. People recognize him when you’re out in public, but it’s not like it would be in any big city. He’s not being swarmed by fans, but rather greeted by his neighbors who are excited to see him home for the holidays.
The two of you get invited to a New Years Eve party in London, and after debating for a bit you both decide to go, planning to leave early so you can ring in the New Year just the two of you.
You drive to the city early that day to settle into his home there and go out for a late lunch. His house is beautiful, and you’re stunned by how well decorated it is. You tell him this and can see the way he lights up with pride at your compliments. Somehow he doesn’t get spotted while you’re walking around London, so you guys get to enjoy an uninterrupted meal and a walk where he points out some of his favorite spots.
He senses you getting cold and immediately routes back to his house. You both shower and get ready for the party, dressing up more than you ever have together. You put on a sparkly green, long sleeve dress that falls to mid-thigh. This gets paired with your black heeled boots, opting for some comfort and protection in the footwear department.
He’s wearing a pair of black slacks, and a silver top, buttoned halfway. The two of you spend a moment just staring at each other, completely at a loss for words. Harry’s first to regain his senses, saying, “You look absolutely stunning, omega.”
“Thank you alpha. You look very handsome,” you reply.
He walks closer, until his hands wrap around your waist, and he pulls you flush against him. You gasp at the sudden move, and he leans down to kiss you, his tongue slipping through your parted lips. For a few minutes you get lost in the feeling of him moving against you. Slick starts to leak into your panties, and the groan Harry let’s out tells you he can smell it. His hips roll harder against you for another moment before he pulls back. Both of you take deeps breaths, and you note how blown his pupils are.
You turn to walk back into the bedroom and Harry asks, “Where are you going?”
“I’ve gotta change my underwear,” you reply.
“Do you have to?”
“Yes, Harry,” you say through a laugh. “I can’t go to a party smelling like slick!”
“Sarah’s going to be the only other alpha there, I’m sure she won’t be bothered.”
“Harry, behave!”
“No promises on that.”
You roll your eyes playfully before walking away to clean yourself up. By the time you get back Harry has his coat on and is holding yours.
There’s still a hint of arousal in his scent and he says, “Are you sure we have to go? We could just stay here, get out of these clothes…” he trails off suggestively.
“Yes, we have to go. You already committed. We don’t, however, have to stay. So let’s go so we can make an appearance and then get back here and see what we can do about getting out of these clothes.”
Harry smiles at the confirmation that you’re on the same page as him. He helps you slip on your coat and the two of you leave the house.
Luckily the party is in his neighborhood so the two of you walk there. You’re greeted by Harry’s friends when you arrive, and immediately start to catch up with Mitch and Sarah. Harry never leaves your side, his arm always wrapped protectively around your waist. Some people may see this as a possessive alpha move, but to you it means safety and comfort.
You stay at the party for a couple hours before ducking out around 11PM. Harry continues to hold you close the whole walk back, and the air is definitely charged with a new tension. His scent has shifted slightly, a hint of spice added to his normal warm smells.
Once in the house you both calmly remove your coats and shoes, neither of you making the first move just yet. It’s like you want the tension to grow until you can’t stand it anymore. You take some initiative and walk upstairs to the bedroom with Harry following behind.
He finally breaks when you arrive in the bedroom, and he turns you to face him before crashing his lips to yours. You can’t hold back the whine of pleasure, and if the way he groans and tightens his grip on you is any indication, he’s a fan of the noise you make.
His hands start to move down your sides until they reach the bare skin of your legs. He starts to slide them back up, now going under your skirt as he moves to press kisses to your neck. You loop your arms over his shoulders and tilt your head to give him more room. Your skirt bunches as his hands make their way to the sides of your torso. In a show of strength, he lifts you up and lays you on the bed.
He crawls over you, and you reach up to unbutton the rest of his shirt and push it off. It’s your turn to slide your hands over his sides, loving the feeling of the smooth skin beneath your fingers. Harry places more kisses to your neck before moving down until he’s placing a kiss between your covered breasts.
You feel the slick coating your center, knowing your panties are absolutely ruined. Both of your scents are growing stronger, his becoming spicier while yours turns sweeter. It mixes together deliciously, and you could grow addicted to the smell.
“Can I take this off?” Harry asks, gripping the bottom of your dress in his hands.
“Yes,” you reply as you sit up slightly so he can pull it off of you. His breathing stops as most of your body is bared in front of him. His hand drifts towards your chest and he looks at you with a silent question. You nod, giving him permission to touch you. He doesn’t hesitate, and you moan as his large hands cup your breasts before his thumbs move across your nipples. You never knew just a simple touch could feel so good, but his hands are like magic.
He spends minutes focusing on your chest, first with his hands, then his mouth. You’re already a panting mess beneath him. When he pulls away your hands go to his waistband, fingertips sliding under just a tiny, teasing amount. Harry gets the message and quickly removes his pants, socks, and underwear. Your mouth waters at the sight in front of you.
He gets back on the bed and slides his hands to the last article of clothing covering your body. “Off, please” you say before he can even ask, getting tired of waiting and wanting nothing more than him inside of you.
“Fuck,” he curses under his breath as he pulls the material down and off your legs. The smell of your slick becomes more potent, and you swear you hear Harry literally grown as he breaths it in. He moves back up your body and his lips find yours in a needy kiss. His fingers find your entrance and you keen as one slowly pushes inside. You continue to make out and opens you up to ensure you’re ready for him. At the same time, you reach out to grab his hard cock, gently pumping a few times.
Harry pulls away and reaches into the bedside table drawer to pull out a condom. As he’s pulling it on you have a moment of nerves. You’re not a virgin, but it’s been a while. And you’ve never been with an alpha before, and you can see by looking at him that there’s definitely truth about alphas being gifted in the size department.
Sending your new hesitance, Harry says, “Hey, you ok?” You nod, but he doesn’t fully believe you, so he adds, “We don’t have to do this right now. We can stop, or keep doing what we were doing, we don’t need to go all the way.”
“I want to,” you answer. “I want this. I want you. I’ve just never been knotted, and I’m not sure I’m ready for that.”
He nods, expression serious, and says, “We can have sex without me knotting you. Is that what you’d like?”
“I’d like that. But will you feel, you know, satisfied?” The last thing you want is to get pleasure if he’s not getting to feel it with you.
“Trust me, I will be more than satisfied.”
“Okay.”
“Okay? Want to continue?”
“I do,” you confirm with a smile.
He leans down to press a gentle kiss to your lips. It’s soft, and sweet, a noticeable difference to the intense kisses from earlier. And it works to get rid of the last of your nerves. His hand moves back to your entrance, collecting some of the slick gathered there and coating his cock with it.
Harry continues to kiss you as he lines up and slowly presses inside of you. Once he’s fully inside he pulls back to look at you. Your eyes meet and there’s a moment of connection unlike anything you’ve ever felt before. Not only does your body feel full, but your heart does as well.
“Alpha,” you say breathlessly.
“My perfect omega,” he replies.
After giving you a moment to adjust to his size he starts to move. The thrusts are slow at first, but he picks up pace. He grabs your leg to wrap around his hip, and the change in angle has you seeing starts.
It only takes a few minutes before you feel the familiar tingle in your core, and a press of his fingers to your clit send you over the edge. He works you through your orgasm and then pulls out. He removes the condom and wraps his hand around his cock. It only takes a few strokes before his knot expands and he comes, his release coating your chest and belly.
Harry gets up and grabs a towel to clean both of you off. You both get under the covers, and he pulls you to lay on his chest. He checks the clock and sees that it is two minutes past midnight.
“Happy new year, omega,” he says.
“Happy new year, alpha,” you reply as you drift off to sleep, comforted by his arms and the smell of your combined scents.
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AN: Thank you so much for reading! Probably wrapping up this story in a couple of chapters, so let me know if there's anything you might want to see!
Taglist: @akkatz @pandeebearstyles @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite@theekyliepage@numafarawayglxy @booberry019-blog @hillzrry@ssareidbby @gem1712 @acesofspadess@houseofdilfs@shaquille-0atmeal-1@kissitnhekitchen @amateurduck @poguestyleskye@n0vaj3an@snwells@drunk-teens-doing-drugs ; @fdl305@creativelyeva@daphnesutton@selluequestrian@lovingfurypanda @stardream14 @tbsloneely@eversincehs1@boomitsallie1@rose-garden-dreamz @fictionalmensblog @buckybarnessimpp @ottawaoutlander @storyschanging @jerseygirlinca @stylesfever @alwayslovingharry
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Choices (5)
Werewolf Au! Jungkook x Reader / Enemies to Lovers [Angst and mature content. Not smut but almost smut.]
Summary: Jungkook finally found her. His mate. His lifelong partner. But she’s a human. Does he have to stay with her or can he stick it to whatever and whoever binds mates together and make his own decision?
Hi!!!! Thank you for being patient with this. I've changed the protagonist from 'she' to 'you' to be inclusive to all my gals, pals, and non-binary pals.
Chapter 1 / Chapter 2 / Chapter 3 / Chapter 4
“Is this really necessary?” Jungkook scoffed.
“You almost killed Jimin so yes, more than necessary.” Namjoon answered, his voice monotone.
“He’s fine.” Jungkook argued, not being able to hide the smirk on his face.
Jungkook rolled his eyes as Namjoon ignored his remark. He watched his members test the lock on the outside of his cabin.
“You know that I can rip this whole thing apart right?” Jungkook sneered.
Jimin, who eagerly participated in locking Jungkook up, quickly had Jungkook against the wall with his throat in his hands, mimicking the younger one from earlier. The giant grin on Jungkook’s face only fueled Jimin’s anger.
“I will literally rip all your limbs off if you don’t shut up.” Jimin growled.
“You won’t.” Jungkook taunted.
Namjoon came over and parted them, glaring at both of them in the process. This was the first time Jungkook has ever experienced heat with his mate and of course he had to make it as painful as possible.
“It’s all good, Namjoon!” Hoseok hollered from outside of the door.
Jimin gave Jungkook one last shove before walking out of his cabin. Knowing that there was no arguing with Namjoon, Jungkook sucked his teeth and flopped onto the air mattress provided by Jin.
“Can I at least talk to her?” Jungkook asked, his arm resting over his eyes.
Jungkook grew more irritated by Namjoon laughing in response. It was a dramatic and drawn out laugh, emphasizing how ridiculous Jungkook’s request was.
“I’m serious.” Jungkook grumbled, sitting up.
Namjoon cocked an eyebrow, “And why should I let you?”
Jungkook leaned against the palms of his hands and sighed dramatically, “I should be the one to explain all this to her, afterall, she’s my mate right?”
Namjoon clenched his jaw as the younger one grinned at him. He wanted to smack that shit eating smirk right off of Jungkook’s face. Wolves in heat were always difficult to handle but Jungkook was a whole other breed.
“I’ll let you have a minute with her but I will be standing right outside that door. If you lay a hand on her, I will kill you.” Namjoon warned.
Jungkook boldly stared at his leader, not breaking any eye contact.
“That’s my line, Joon.”
Any other day, Namjoon would’ve put Jungkook in his place and remind him what his role is in the pack but today-this week-is not like any other day. He would have to walk on eggshells around Jungkook to make sure he doesn’t end up hurting himself or someone else. Despite Jungkook being the youngest one in the pack, he was a lot stronger and more cunning than the others.
“I’ll let you talk to her but I won’t let you know when. Use this time to learn how to stop being an ass.” Namjoon said before walking out, slamming the door in the process.
He heard a low grumble come out of Jungkook before a loud crash followed. Namjoon assumed Jungkook probably punched a wall or door but as long as the cabin was still intact, he really didn’t care. His gaze went over to his pack discussing what happened. Jimin was re-enacting the fight that broke out between him and Jungkook while the rest watched in amusement. Namjoon thought of you, and how confused and scared you must be. He wanted to drag this moment out as much as he could because the thought of asking you to come see Jungkook after what transpired weighed heavily on his shoulders. Another crash from the cabin had Namjoon scowling and he decided to hold off on telling you for a few days just to make Jungkook suffer a little bit.
___________________________________________
A few days turned into never. Namjoon didn’t forget to tell you, he just didn’t want to. It wasn’t that he didn’t try, he just physically couldn’t bring himself to explain what was going on with Jungkook to you. How do you explain to a human that their mate (which already is a wild concept) is going through heat and has an intense urge to, well, mate. Namjoon didn’t need to instruct the members to not say a thing to you either because it seemed like everyone was tiptoeing around you. Anytime you even mention Jungkook, they would change the subject or tell you that he's okay. Jungkook’s missing presence was not what bothered you but the feeling that everyone was keeping a secret from you that you deserved to know did.
“We’ll only be gone for a little bit.” Jennie pouted as she gave you a hug.
Half of the pack was out hunting and the other half had to prepare for some wolf festival that you overheard them talking about. The feeling of being an unwanted guest was stronger than ever since you got here. At least Jungkook was vocal about how much he didn’t like you but the rest of his pack would smile at you yet keep you at arm’s length about their day to day.
“Have fun.” you said, trying your best to force a genuine smile.
You watched as Taehyung kept Jennie steady while she was putting on her snow boots. He was always so gentle with her. Whenever he held her or touched her, it was as if only his fingertips grazed her skin in fear of him accidentally scratching her. You often wondered if Taehyung was so delicate with Jennie because she was a human or because he truly didn’t want to accidentally inflict any pain onto her. Even if it were the latter, Taehyung looked at Jennie with such adoring eyes that it was hard not to feel moved by just how much he loved her.
“Since it’s daytime and the moon is past its first quarter, you should go wander around.” Taehyung said.
Jennie cocked her head and raised her eyebrows, “Are you sure?”
A feeling of excitement started bubbling inside your stomach. You had been wanting to leave the cabin for some fresh air but you were advised not to. Something about the moon phase and rogue wolves that you still didn’t understand.
“Yeah!” Taehyung grinned, “There's a really great view point near our cabin. Just follow the path behind the cabin and you’ll eventually see a large rock with giant claw marks.”
“Giant claw marks?” you swallowed, the excitement now fizzling away.
“It was left behind centuries ago by our ancestors,” Taehyung chuckled, waving a hand in front of you, “anyways, the view point is a little bit behind the giant rock. You won’t miss it.”
The immense joy you felt finally being able to leave the cabin made you miss the look that Jennie gave Taehyung. Taehyung ignored Jennie’s gaze and squeezed her hand. The three of you exchanged a couple more words before they left.
“If anything happens to her, I’m going to kill you, Kim Taehyung.” Jennie sighed as she wrapped her arms tighter around Taehyung’s.
Taehyung didn’t answer. His playful demeanour with you earlier now replaced with something more serious. Taehyung was placing all bets-his life if Namjoon found out-that you would be okay. The path he told you to follow will ensure your safety…if you stay on the path. If something happens to her, Jungkook will be there.
Despite the freezing winter air, the sunlight still felt so good on your face. It just felt so good to finally step outside after being cooped up for what felt like forever. You only had a few hours before the sun would set which meant you had to be quick. With the snow covering the ground, you followed footprints left by the pack members. How they were able to walk through the snow with no shoes still amazed you.
As you walked, you listened to the sound of the snow crunching under your shoes and the chirping of birds nearby. Perhaps it was the crisp forest air but you felt like you were finally able to breathe. All the tension in your body slowly began to dissipate and for once, it felt good to be alone. Back in the cabin, you spent a lot of time in your bedroom just staring outside the window watching the pack hangout. You wanted to be apart of their group but you just didn't understand what was going on and no one wanted to explain anything to you. Oftentimes you ate silently at the dining table with them because they would talk about things you had no idea about. During those times you would stare at Jennie and wished to swap places with her even if it were just for a minute. They were all kind to you and tried to engage with you but with all the secrets they were keeping from you, it was hard to feel like you were part of the group. Besides, you meeting them was all because of some freak accident so you couldn’t blame them for your feeling of loneliness. As your thoughts eventually led to Jungkook, your pace began to slow down. Moments between you two and stolen glances from your window began to flash through your mind. You felt your hands tingle with the same electricity that ran through your body that one and only night he embraced you.
“Ow!” you hissed as you felt a sting on your hand.
In the midst of your thoughts, you had sliced your hand against some tree branches. It wasn’t a bad scratch but it was enough to draw blood. You wiped the cut against your jacket and carried on with your walk. Ever since meeting Jungkook, your reality had completely shifted and now even simply thinking of Jungkook felt like it wasn’t allowed.
The sky had turned pink and orange as you reached the giant rock that Taehyung told you about. By the time you had reached the stone, you were out of breath. You were sure that this trail was a walk in the park during spring and summer but with the snow practically being untouched this far out, taking just a step through snow that came up to your knees took almost all of your energy. You leaned against the rock as you tried to catch your breath. You tilted your head up towards the sky and sighed. By the time you make your way back to the cabin, it will be dark. You maneuvered around the rock and saw that the viewpoint Taehyung was talking about was not far away at all. If you were quick, you could take in the sight and then start heading back.
____________________________________
Jungkook didn’t know how long it had been but judging by how the snow had melted around him, he had been laying down for a while. The snow helped cool him down but only for a few minutes before his whole body felt like it was on fire again. He was in the middle of his heat and everyday, he felt more and more like shit. Jungkook had gone through heat before many times but it had never been this bad. Now that Jungkook knew of your existence, it was as if his body would not rest until he was buried inside of you.
The first night was the hardest. Jungkook had very easily broken the chains and door of the cabin Namjoon wanted to seal him away in; everything after was a blur. He remembered standing by the door for hours trying to get a grip on reality. The primal need to go to where you were and make you his made him feel like he was going insane. Standing made him dizzy, laying down made him nauseous, and thinking made him hallucinate. The hardest part was fighting against his urges and instincts to go find you. What helped was remembering how terrified you were when his heat first struck. That image of your wide petrified eyes kept him away from you for now.
A groan left Jungkook’s mouth as he rolled over face first into a new pile of snow and the ice began to immediately melt around the heat of his body. This time, the ice melted so quickly his face met the soil hiding underneath all the snow.
“Fuck me…” he sighed and rolled onto his back, not caring that he was laying on frozen earth instead of the snow he so desperately needed against his burning skin.
Jungkook stared at the shades of red in the sky. It was now day three of his heat and the intensity from the first day was starting to wear off. The oversensitivity to light and sound began to ease but his body still ached and felt like it had been hit by a truck. Up until now, he wasn’t able to think of you unless it was in explicit context. He thought of all the positions he wanted you in and all the ways you would sound as he emptied the heat from his body inside of you. Now that his head was a little bit more clear, he resumed hating the thought of you and how angry he was with his fate. However, in the privacy of the night, he let himself think of you as much as he wanted in any way that he wanted.
A cold air blew past bringing along dozens of different scents. Jungkook picked up the smell of pine needles, soil, squirrel fur and-
“What the fuck?” Jungkook sat up and stared at the trees in front of him.
The fresh smell of your blood filled his senses and his heart began to race out of fear, excitement and desire. In an instant, Jungkook was running through the trees following your scent. He didn’t stop to think about the fact that just smelling you made him lose all control of his body. What was he going to do when he was face to face with you? As he neared you, the scent of rogue wolves broke the spell of his desire and lust. What was once excitement was now replaced with panic and possessiveness. Rogue wolves or even a comrade, if anyone laid a finger on what was his, he would have to kill them.
Something was not right as you stood in front of a broken cabin. There were deep scratch marks decorating the front and sides. The cabin door laid lifeless against the cracked floor inside and chains that were once intact were thrown out into the snow. The sky had changed into a bright red and the air felt colder. The snow swallowed all sounds and all you could hear was the drumming of your heart.
Why would Taehyung tell me to come here?
You could see the viewpoint that Taehyung was talking about right behind the cabin but it just wasn’t worth it anymore. You realized that whatever did this to the cabin or whatever the cabin was trying to keep inside may come back and you didn’t want to wait around for it. As you zipped up your jacket to tackle the night air approaching, the sound of growling made you freeze. Your eyes quickly scanned the trees nearby but all you could see was snow. As the growling got louder and closer, you heard a separate growl indicating that there was more than one of whatever was nearby. As you took a step backwards in preparation to run, a yelp escaped from your lips as you bumped into Jungkook’s body.
“Get in the cabin.” he ordered, his eyes bright red like the sky.
Before you could process the sight of him, another growl from the trees stole your attention.
“Now!” he ordered once more, this time you could see his fangs that had unsheathed.
Watching you struggle through the snow to the cabin only added to Jungkook’s growing anger. Him and his pack were able to run through any terrain without breaking a sweat while humans needed to wear specially designed shoes to avoid slipping at an indoor pool. Once you had stumbled your way into the cabin, Jungkook refocused his attention to the two rogue wolves behind the safety of the forest. He saw them clearly despite them being meters away.
“Do not come out no matter what you hear.” Jungkook instructed, his eyes not leaving the wolves.
Before you could say anything back, he disappeared within an instant. For a couple minutes, you stood alone in the broken down cabin that you were so afraid of earlier. You were too scared to even breathe, afraid that something would hear you and attack. You stood in place and kept your eyes on the broken door laying by your feet. The irony of how absolutely ridiculous the situation was made you want to cry. Jungkook told you to go into this cabin but there was no door to lock out any danger leaving you wide open for anything to come get you. You dug your nails into your hands as you heard yelping and howling in the distance. Tears pricked your eyes as your mind raced. Was Jungkook hurt? Was it his bones that you heard breaking just now? Were you going to die in this shitty cabin? You fell to your knees and covered your head with your arms trying to block out as much as you could. Why the fuck did Taehyung tell you to come here?
A low growl rumbled through Jungkook’s chest as he lifted his foot out of the rogue wolf's now dead carcass, its companion also laid lifeless beside it. He didn’t have to kill these two wolves as gruesomely as he did but the thought of their intentions with you made him feral. Jungkook was almost amazed with the work that he did. He’d never felt so much adrenaline or strength course through his body like this. If this was how strong his heat was making him, he could only imagine how much stronger he’d be if he marked you. Still drunk off of the intensity of what happened, Jungkook stumbled his way back to you. He almost laughed when he saw you flinch from the sound of his arrival. Seeing you all balled up and shaking like a leaf didn’t move him, if anything, he found the sight amusing.
"Humans are so vulnerable and so small." he thought.
You still wouldn’t lift up your head, afraid of what you might see. If something like a rogue wolf was here to kill you, there truly wasn’t anything you could do. Jungkook crouched in front of you and stared at your trembling frame. The little bit of humanity left in him felt disgusting for relishing in the scent of your fear.
“Hey.” he called out.
Your head shot up from your arms and you gasped when you saw him. Jungkook was alive. Unable to fight the pure relief over his safety and yours, you threw your arms around him and buried your face in his chest. You didn’t care about the fact that he was shirtless or about the fresh blood on his body, you were just so grateful for him at the moment. Jungkook’s eyes shot wide open and almost immediately started salivating. The adrenaline that was still in his body mixed with the heat from your body was a concoction for disaster in the state that Jungkook was in. He thought he was going to go into a frenzy if you held onto him any longer.
“You need…You need to let go of me…” Jungkook managed to strain out.
“W-what?” you asked.
As you parted from him, you took notice of his hands by his side that were trembling. This was also when you noticed that he had claws that looked sharp enough to pierce through flesh.
“Jungkook?” you breathed as you fully backed away from him.
Jungkook was slouched over, his head tucked into his chest as his breathing labored. Jungkook dug his nails into the floorboard and the screeching from his action rang through his head. The veins from his arms were protruding so much, he was sure they were going to explode. His head felt so loud and his senses were overloaded. Unlike the last time you guys touched, his body felt like it was covered in pins and needles. He heard you call his name again and saw your hand coming towards him from the corner of his eyes.
“Don’t touch me!” he barked.
He couldn’t even breathe a sigh of relief when your hand retreated. If you had touched him at that very moment, he might’ve killed you. You watched as Jungkook fought against his body. He looked like he was in so much pain and agony. As scared as you were beside him, leaving him and running back in the dark was scarier. There was no way you could survive without him escorting you back. You tried to even out your breathing as you straightened your back. Something was going on within Jungkook’s body and you had no chance of leaving this place unless Jungkook snapped back to his regular self.
“What do you need me to do?” you asked.
Jungkook wanted to laugh because what he needed to do was fuck you senseless until his heat was over but that was out of the question. You needed to leave and get as far away from him as possible but the thought of you going back home to his pack members made him spiral and that was it, Jungkook was spiralling. Being next to him puts you in danger but being away from him now that he’s already seen you puts everyone around you in danger.
“Just wait. Please just wait.” Jungkook finally said.
You nodded and brought your knees up to your chest. Jungkook saved your life tonight and if waiting was all you had to do to save his (and yours), you’d do just that.
#bts fanfic#jungkook werewolf#jungkook fanfic#jungkook x reader#bts werewolf au#bts smut#bts#jungkook smut#jungkook#yoongi#jimin#namjoon#taehyung#hoseok#jin#bts x reader#jungkook werewolf au#choices
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The Ghost Next Door - Chapter 5
Prompt: After suffering an almost lethal injury in combat, Simon "Ghost" Riley expected a dull, and uneventful leave back at his shitty apartment. His new next-door neighbor ruins his plans. Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x Reader (named Riley Thomas for plot purposes)
Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 6
Disclaimer: slow burn; neighbor!Simon; will eventually contain very graphic descriptions of smut;
Chapter Summary: In which Simon's neighbor goes on a date but still ends up on his couch...
Word Count: 2.4K
One dull, oddly quiet evening, Simon Riley had decided to cook dinner for the first time in months.
Although his wound had healed considerably in the past few weeks, he knew he wouldn’t be ready to apply for medical clearance just yet, the base’s doctor preying on any sign of physical or mental discomfort like a hawk. His limp had been reduced to an occasional stumbling when his leg gave out, only problematic after long walks or if he missed his daily stretches.
The boredom of the current routine (or lack thereof) was a disease spreading through his bones, consuming his mind and slowly killing him bit by bit. He found himself seeking comfort in his neighbor's own ordinary habits, picking out singular sounds and signs of Riley’s activities in her flat: feeding the pets, the incessant scratching noises and whines from the pup, the way she sweetly comforted them even when they misbehaved. She left early in the morning, and regardless of her attempts to do so quietly, Simon’s line of work had made him a terribly light sleeper. When she returned in the evenings (seldom earlier than 18 o’clock), he unconsciously sighed with relief, happy that the usual racket would prevent him from being solely accompanied by his dark thoughts. When he finally heard her lay in bed late at night, he felt as if he was back on the field, studying the enemy, listening to either her soft snores of exhaustion or her tossing and turning on the sheets, deep sighs of frustration echoing his own.
He had barely started chopping up vegetables when he heard an anxious knocking on his door that night, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He had heard her frantically move about after she’d returned from work, quick steps pacing back and forth as even Milo’s uneasiness made itself heard through constant meowing.
He wiped his hands on a clean cloth before reaching for the black facemask near the entrance, unlocking his door lazily. There, stood Riley. In a dress. With makeup on.
His body immediately stiffened at the sight, eyes drifting up and down, taking in the details as fast as humanly possible. He unconsciously took a step back, his leg faltering as he tried to pretend to be unbothered by the way the elegant garment enveloped her curves (that her oversized clothes had hidden for so long), the modest length to her knees doing poor work of concealing the soft flesh of her legs.
As his eyes quickly drifted up again, his pupils widened as he fixed his gaze on a generous cleavage, completely unprepared for the plumpness of her breasts. He gulped silently as he struggled to keep his eyes on her face, until he noticed how carefully she had drawn on some eyeliner that made her eyes stand out, mascara building long, dark lashes that somehow complimented her small freckles.
“What do you think?” she asked, smiling, giving him a shy spin before tucking her arms behind her back and shrugging awkwardly. Her heels were noisy against the old floors of the hallway.
He was rendered speechless, however maintaining his usual broody facade as he shrugged, feigning disinterest. Her smile crumbled as a deep frown set on her flushed expression
“Oh no…It’s too much isn’t it?” She looked down at herself with trembling hands. “I don’t have time to change.”
“No” Simon spoke before he even thought about it, but couldn’t find himself capable of blurting out how he actually felt about it. “It’s…You’re…”
“It’s okay, you don’t have to pretend to like it.” She laughed nervously, the awkward tension rising between the two as Simon’s breath quickened. “I’m going out and I just wanted to know if you could keep an ear out for pets…I have a cam in the living room to watch them but It’d be rude to keep checking my phone and-” She stopped herself as she observed Simon’s pensive expression. “I’m rambling ain’t I?”
“Where ya going?” He tried to sound casual, but his voice came out strained as he leaned against his door frame, arms crossed and chest tightened.
“Oh…my sister kind of forced me to go on this arranged date thing…it’s silly, really…” She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear and giggled nervously, avoiding his gaze.
“Hmm.” His usual grunt returned and her shoulders slouched slightly. Simon felt uncomfortable as something unknown coiled in the pit of his stomach, making him suddenly lose his appetite.
She patiently awaited his answer, looking up at him through those long lashes.
“I’ll hear out for’em” He nodded in acknowledgement before making it to turn around and flee her perfumed scent. Lavender soap and a whiff of vanilla.
“Wait.”
Her delicate fingers wrapped around his wrist softly, giving him a way out of her grip if he wished to. He felt himself shiver as he looked back at her.
“Thank you, Simon. I won’t be long.” Riley offered an apologetic smile before stepping back, readjusting her purse on her shoulder.
He couldn’t even speak as he watched her walk away.
***
Simon had been quietly staring at his kitchen wall for about half an hour, festering.
Once he had finished preparing his homemade version of chicken fried rice - his knife practically stabbing the meat before he seasoned and cooked it - he uncorked a bottle of wine, pouring himself a large glass, trying to quiet his racing mind.
Who could she possibly have a date with? The young woman was practically slaving most of her days at work or taking care of on coming and going pets she sheltered. Even if she was telling the truth, and the date had actually been arranged, he still found himself bothered with how well she’d dressed up for something “silly”.
Why do you care? he asked himself, frustration bubbling in his chest. I don’t - a part of him replied.
What if she brings him home? What if I hear them in her bedroom tonight?
He startled as he heard the glass between his thick fingers begin to crack, taking a deep, calming breath as he eased the pressure around it.
“Fuckin’ hell” he muttured, shaking his head as he made way to sit on his couch, downing the drink in fast gulps as he turned on a football match.
Just as he was about to doze off, his eyelids hanging low as the sleepiness from the alcohol enveloped his body and soothed his mind, he heard quiet, sneaky footsteps echoing in the hallway. He frowned as he heard the keys dangling next door, taking a quick look at the time on his phone. She hadn’t even been gone for an hour.
Simon groaned as he carefully stood up, reaching for his facemask as he heard the puppy whine and bark, intending to use it as an excuse to go check. His stomach knotted as he considered the possibility of catching her with someone, but he quickly buried those feelings down, his face utterly calm and collected.
Riley hadn’t even fully closed the door yet when he quietly reached her threshold, knocking softly and startling her.
“Fuck…you scared me.” She sniffled, quickly wiping away tears as she tried to force a smile, throwing her heels on the corner. “I thought you’d be resting, didn’t wanna bother you.”
Simon took a few seconds to process her distressed demeanor, stepping inside slowly and casually sticking his hands in his pockets. His head cocked at her puffy eyes and reddened, wet cheeks, her eyeliner ruined as it had completely smudged on the corners.
“Riley-” He started, his tone soft.
“It rained tonight, it was an awful idea to wear heels.” She scurried off to her kitchen, grabbing Milo on the way and kissing his forehead as he purred contently. “Were they too noisy?” She asked as Rex began whining at Simon, begging for his attention.
“No, but I-”
“Great!” She forced another smile while she refilled the pets’ bowls, bare feet on the cold floors. She wiped some snot off her nose as Simon bent over to pet the puppy, his massive hands easily covering the pup’s entire head as he scratched his ears gently. “Thank you so much for helping out.”
“S’nothin. I didn’t really do anythin’.” He shrugged, concern growing in his chest at her odd behavior.
“I still owe you that cake, you know.” She pointed out shyly “I haven’t forgotten, I promise…I’ve just been busy.”
“It’s okay. You’re okay.” He nodded gently and she sighed deeply, trying to avoid his lingering gaze. “Riley…”
“It’s nothing. I promise.” She sniffled again, smiling apologetically at him.
He stood in silence for a few minutes, weighting her words.
“What happened?” He asked, stepping closer until they were face to face, and she had nowhere to escape.
She looked down at her feet as silent tears ran down her freckled cheeks, remaining silent.
“Did he hurt you?” Simon’s voice came out colder than he intended to, fists clenched beside his body, trying to contain the anger that began boiling in his blood.
“No, it’s just…” The young woman covered her face with her hands. “So embarrassing.”
“Why?”
“It doesn’t matter, seriously, I’m just being sensitive as per usual.” His heart sank at her trembling voice and the way she anxiously began fidgeting with her necklace.
“Tell me.”
“Simon…”
Simon took a deep breath, pondering if it was really worth pressing the matter when she didn’t seem willing to talk about it, opting for another route instead.
“I made chicken fried rice for dinner.” He felt his face warm as her smile grew, this time genuine.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.” He lifted a hand to her face, wiping away a tear with his calloused thumb and secretly appreciating the way she discreetly leaned against his touch, comforted. “Wanna try it?”
“Fuck yeah, I’m starving.” She sighed in relief as Simon let out an amused grunt.
“Language, kid. There’s children present.” He pointed to the pets and she giggled, two dimples returning.
“Let me get some ice cream!” She rushed to the kitchen and Simon gave Milo a pat on his fluffy head.
“I opened a bottle o’wine.”
“A recipe for disaster.”
***
“This is so good!” Riley Thomas spoke with her mouth full as she sat comfortably on her neighbor’s couch, happily savoring the warm meal he had provided.
Whereas Simon was barely teetering on the edge of tipsiness - a couple glasses of wine in - the young woman was undeniably drunk, softly moaning every time she took the fork to her mouth.
“You’re sloshed.” Simon shook his head in amusement, barely containing a chuckle.
“I’m really not!” She protested, giggling at his accusation.
“You’re a terrible liar.”
“And you love me for it.” She winked playfully, making his eyebrows raise in genuine disbelief at her newfound confidence, most certainly alcohol fueled.
“Feelin’ cheeky, are we?” He chuckled, entertained, as well as very relieved she was feeling better about whatever ailed her before.
Riley Thomas set the bowl down, leaning back on the plush couch and lazily pulling her knees towards her chest. Simon gulped silently, doing his best to politely avoid staring at the exposed skin of her thighs where the dress had bunched up.
“I think I feel lighter. Cozier too.” She gave him a dazzling, careless smile, eyelids low as her tiredness became apparent.
“Booze will do that to ya.” He readjusted his facemask, which Riley had begged him to fully remove each time he took a sip of wine. He had refused.
“Hadn’t had a drink or two in a while.” She slurred out and Simon snorted.
“More like a drink or five, love.”
“Stop it.”
“What?”
“Calling me love.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m wine drunk Simon.” She hid her blushing face behind her palms.
“Hm.”
Riley sighed deeply. Loneliness was hitting her like a brick that night, and she found herself craving her neighbor’s attention, yearning for the soft praisal she often imagined he could give. Fantasizing about his warm hands placed on her tense shoulders, the curve of her hips…maybe even the back of her knees. She attributed those thoughts to the dry spell that had been bestowed upon her since her previous relationship, imagining she could easily think that way about any other male that gave her the right amount of attention.
Or maybe she wasn’t yet willing to admit that Simon rattled something deep within her.
The young woman’s gaze fixed itself on his half-exposed arms, a look he couldn’t quite decipher as it trailed up, and down, and then up again, until it stopped on his eyes. He saw hunger.
“Don’t look at me like that.” He warned softly, large hands gripping the armrest.
“Like what?” She asked innocently, voice laced with honey and the prospect of a very, very eventful evening. Such a tempting proposition.
Simon cocked his head to the right, in silent answer.
She shook her head, trying to push away the warmth that trickled down her body, hugging her knees as she rested her chin upon them.
“Sorry…Tough night.”
“Ya ready to talk about it?”
Riley’s shoulders slouched, her face heating at the memory.
“Well…” She huffed, tiredly. “For starters he was thirty minutes late,and because he made the reservation I didn’t want to walk in the restaurant first, alone…”
“Hm” He nodded, a sign for her to go on.
“I texted him a few times, thinking he was a no-show, and he never replied.” She rolled her eyes. “My heels got drenched from the rain and my feet were hurting like hell. When I was about to leave the prick finally showed up and guess what he said next.”
“Can’t possibly think of a good excuse, love.”
“Apparently neither could he. He just said that we probably lost the reservation already and asked me if I’d like to come over to his place.” She huffed angrily, shaking her head. “Then he got mad that I refused and…”
“And?” He urged her to go on, noticing her uncomfortable expression, the way her fingers fidgeted with her necklace.
“And I don’t wanna say what he said.”
“That’s okay. You don’t have to.”
Riley looked up at him gratefully, but decided to open up further. He was a great listener after all.
She sighed once again “He…He told me he only asked me out because my sister kept nagging him about it…and that he thought I’d be an easy shag since I haven’t…dated, in a long time.” She exhaled the words quickly, unable to look Simon in the eyes.
She missed out on his livid expression, the way his fingers seemed ready to crush the armrest as his mind was lost in murderous thoughts.
“Hm.” Was all he could muster.
“Yep.” She looked down at the empty glass, preparing to fill it up again.
“Don’t.”
“Why?”
“You’ve had enough. You’ll feel like shit tomorrow.” He advised, moving the bottle away.
“What do you care?” It came out rougher than expected, and she winced at her own words. Simon’s cold gaze made her shrink further into his couch. “I’m sorry.”
“Apology accepted.”
“I didn’t expect to be into him, or anything to happen at all. Although sometimes I do miss being touched by something other than my right hand, you know?”
There it was, the alcohol again. Simon stifled a grunt of agreement, and the sudden warmth that involuntarily gathered at the apex of his thighs again once he considered her words.
“Is it so wrong to seek a bit of warmth sometimes?” Her tone reflected her sadness, and Simon knew he was just as touch starved as she was, albeit he buried those feelings so deeply he rarely ever thought about it anymore. Until Riley Thomas had showed up, that is.
“Do you seek it?” His eyes snapped back at hers, a hand running over his blonde locks as he considered her words.
“Hm.” Was all he was willing to give.
Tense silence fell between the two as she yearned to learn more about him. What moved him. He didn’t feel capable of conceding anything yet.
“You looked…you look beautiful. That guy was a proper cunt.”
His heart melted at the sight of her smile unfolding before him, like a radiant star with dimples, a chipped tooth, and freckles.
“Thank you, Simon.” She whispered as if keeping a secret. Their secret. Simon nodded in acknowledgement and smiled too, under his mask.
Maybe he wasn’t so bad at opening up after all.
A/N: Hey y'all! I hope you guys forgive me for how long I've taken to post this! After 10 years of service my laptop decided to die, and with it everything I've ever written, which was very hard to deal with, especially considering that I needed it to finish my master's thesis. It was very frustrating to write on my tablet with a little keyboard hence why I took forever to post. Hopefully I'll find another solution soon. Thank you for the lovely feedback, keep sharing your thoughts with me ❤️
TAG LIST (I hope I haven't forgotten anyone)
@xaestheticalien @bossva @missmae3004 @yyiikes @lillysfrogsandbogs
#ghost cod#ghostxreader#cod#ghost imagine#simon riley imagine#simon riley smut#simon riley x reader#ghost smut#modernwarfare2#neighbor!ghost
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a pain like no other- daryl dixon x reader
summary: you and glenn had been friends since you were 15, having gone through everything together he was your brother and his death hits you harder then anything had before. while daryl attempts comforting you, a secret of his own slips out.
tw: glenn’s death, walkers, a bit of suicidal ideation ig, lots of fluff and comfort
not proofread <3
i appreciate feedback and omds watched glenn’s death scene again it fully kills me
**
you held onto the pain because that’s all you had left of him, your best friend. glenn. not even that, he was your brother. you’d survived the apocalypse together after having known eachother for years before.
it had been a week since your boyfriend had pulled you from the floor your chest exploding with grief and pain. your eyes puffy as every memory you’d had with glenn since you were 15 rushed into your head. your chest heaving as you desperately tried to escape your boyfriends grip.
glenn was everything to you, the last reminder of who you were before, the only person apart from daryl who knew you, who really knew you. and seeing him, seeing that happen to him. it shifted something in your brain. it wasn’t just grief it was paralysis. it wasn’t just loosing someone, you felt as if you lost a limb.
daryl carried you back, back to your house in Alexandria. where you sat infront of the toilet for the past five days throwing up every time you thought about glenn, your tear stained cheeks puffy as you slowly became more numb with every day that past.
the events of glenn’s death playing on repeat in your head, you hadn’t slept, hadn’t eaten, hadn’t moved from the bathroom floor. your chest exploding with pain every time your best friend popped into your head. it was debilitating.
finally, 6 days after you could barely feel anything but that pit in your stomach and hole in your heart where your brother had filled, you had ignored daryl, pushing him out of the bathroom anytime he attempted to console you.
lifting yourself from the floor the familiar nausea set in, but powering through you made you way back to your room avoiding looking at yourself in any mirrors as you did. discarding your dirty tear stained clothes on the floor you pulled on a pair of jeans desperate to do something, something to distract you, hunting walkers. the risk of death. the only thing that you could think of.
pulling on a white t-shirt that once belonged to Glenn you took a gun and a knife hoping your boyfriend was out on a run and wouldn’t notice your absence. leaving your house you scouted the walls, you needed to feel something, something that wasn't this pain in your chest, the inability to breathe, something that wasn't grief.
climbing over the walls as you'd seen enid do weeks prior you left the safety behind, the cold air making hairs on the back of your neck stand tall as you ventured into the forest, taking a deep breath you inhaled the freshness that was the forest, the sting in your chest not disappearing for a second as you slowly walked through the forest.
you didn't know what exactly you were searching for, Negan? danger? a distraction? maybe even more pain. trudging through the forest shivering as you did but you didn't care. moving further into the forest you heard branches snapping behind you, your brain going silent as you caught sight of 4 walkers.
pulling your knife from its confines on your belt you lunged towards the closest walker plunging your knife into its skull, automatically turning to kill the next before you noticed more heading towards you, at the first glance you only saw three more.
drawing your gun firing three rounds taking out the visible walkers, your mind blank for a moment until you saw more walkers heading towards you, the sound having drawn them towards you. too many for you to take on alone.
turning around to escape you noticed more approaching you from behind, making a run for a small gap between the walkers one managed to grab ahold of you pulling you back into it, turning you wedged your knife into its skull before shooting a few rounds as you tried backing away from the herd.
feeling a cold hand on your shoulder, you were pulled into the grasps of another walker. the sudden movement making your gun fall from your hand, and suddenly things slowed as you desperately tried pushing the walker away but it’s grip on your body was too strong.
pushing your arm against the walkers chest putting as much distance between you as it as possible. your heart racing. this is what you were searching for. the adrenaline. the difference in feeling. fighting for your life instead of wanting it to end.
so zoned out you couldn’t hear anything, see anything besides the walker snapping it’s jaw at you as your arm being the only thing stopping it’s teeth from sinking into your flesh.
just as your muscles fell weaker, and creating distance between you and the walkers snapping jaws became more difficult. an arrow embedded itself through the walkers head, blood splattering across your face as the walker became a dead weight falling on top of you causing you to fall to the ground.
“what the fuck are you doin’!?” a familiar voice boomed as you pushed the walker off your body, daryl’s strong hands pulling you from the floor. his hands laying on your shoulders as he scanned your body for injuries.
“nothing” you muttered looking down, the distraction was over. the familiar pain once again consuming your body, the nausea, the tightness in your chest all returning. on top of the guilt as you looked into daryl’s eyes. the expression on his face one of pure worry and anger.
“sure as hell don’t look like nothin’! are you tryin’ to get yourself killed!?” his raised voice shattered the small amount of composure you had left, a wave of emotions you had push away crashing through. the tears pooling in your eyes and the tremble of your lip enough to completely change daryl’s demeanour.
pulling you into his arms was the last straw the tears streaming down your face as his arms wrapped around you as you buried your face into his chest still trying to refrain from sobbing.
“oh baby girl” his voice was so quiet, as if he didn’t want you to hear his words. words you’d never heard him say before, yet they brought you slight comfort. his hand on the back of your head holding you close in his grasp, the guilt consuming him. a silent voice in his head reminding him you were feeling this pain because of him, maggie and her baby were going to be alone because of him.
“come on let’s get home” daryl’s voice breaking, as he spoke, his body shifting to hold you into his side as he led you back to Alexandria. it was silent apart from the small sobs coming from your lips as you walked along side daryl.
walking through the gates of Alexandria, you tried to pull yourself together but you could barely go a second without another sob wrecking your body. as you approached your house daryl, helped you through the door laying his cross bow on the floor, before leading you up to the bathroom, dirty lingering on his skin as tears began slowing from pure exhaustion leaving a numb expression on your face, tears still spilling down your cheeks yet slower then before.
“you should shower, i’ll meet ya in the bedroom” his voice was soft, almost afraid. he was. he was afraid of you hating him. the guilt from the part he played in glenn’s death eating him from the inside.
“stay with me” looking up at him, his striking eyes filled with sadness yet he nodded at your words. the mixture of emotions confused him, daryl was never an emotional person yet in that moment. guilt, love, anger, fear plagued him.
“of course” he nodded, taking a breath he turned to the shower adjusting the heat. he knew you loved a hot shower. he remembered you saying how they made you feel like a human again when you first arrived in alexandria.
your shaky hands reaching to pull your shirt that had once belonged to glenn from your body, but the exhaustion and pain you felt causing a struggle, daryl’s hands soothingly ran down your back before helping you rid yourself from the shirt.
“i can help..” his accent more noticeable as he offered his help but in more of a question he was unsure if you even want him to be around you. yet you nodded turning around and gently moving all your hair to the side revealing your bra clasps.
his fingers gently running over the smooth skin of your back as he tried undoing your bra, fumbling with the clasps before it finally fell from your back and down your arms where you let it fall to the floor before turning back towards daryl, his hand subconsciously finding its place on your hip.
your arms reached to his shoulders helping him pull the leather jacket down his arms, a slight part of him feeling insecure as he went to unbutton his own shirt. you’d seen him naked hundreds of times yet this felt different, it was intimate neither of you wanted sex, you wanted to feel close to one and other and let the vulnerability show.
he looked down at you as he unbuttoned his shirt, your tear stained cheeks made his heart sting as he pulled his arms from his shirt, leaving his top half bare. you could sense the uncertainty he felt being so vulnerable around you, his upbringing having an effect on his ability to show his emotions.
your hands going to rest on his bare shoulders before wrapping themselves around his neck, your fingers finding their way into the hair that laid at the nape of his neck as you reached to press a gently kiss against his lips as your bare chests touched.
“you’re beautiful daryl” you reassured, but he only felt like he was failing you more. he’d caused you all this pain yet you were comforting him. sighing he gently pulled away before undoing his belt and ridding himself of the rest of his clothes.
after asking for permission, he helped you remove the rest of your clothing before helping you get into the shower before stepping in behind you while catching sight of the bruises that littered your body. tears again pooling in your eyes as you faced away from the man you loved, his hands on your waist giving you a false sense of comfort as the warm water ran down your body.
turning to face him, your hands rested on his chest the water running down both of your bodies as your hands moved across his soft skin back to round his neck before laying your head against his chest just needing to be close to the only person who makes you feel safe.
“don’t do that again please” his voice sounded desperate, he was. he didn’t know what he would do without you, not ever. he needed you.
“it just hurts” your voice cracking as grief flooded your chest, his arms tightening their grip around your waist pulling you closer to his body. as you tried to just enjoy the heat and comfort of the moment. you were relaxed, more relaxed then you’d been since your life was flipped upside down and the last thing you had from before was ripped away from you.
you both basked in the comforting silence that was each other, the hot water bringing even more relaxation then just being in each others arms when a small sniffle caught your attention. looking up to see daryl, a pained expression covering his features a stray tear running down his cheek.
“i’m sorry…” his voice breaking and hoarse as he spoke holding back sobs. taken aback you just look at him confused as to what he could possibly be sorry about until he repeats himself, more tears falling as he did.
“it wasn’t your fault” guilt overwhelmed him, his emotions taking over as tears fell down his cheeks. your chest burning at the thought that he had been blaming himself for glenn’s death when there was no one to blame but negan.
“it was” pulling him into your arms you whispered sweet nothings into his ear as tears ran down his cheeks as he buried his head into your neck arms still firmly wrapped around your waist.
“none of it was your fault daryl. no one blames you” you whispered, holding eachother tightly scared one of you would just disappear. what happened to glenn also being a reminder living was not promised.
#glenn rhee x reader#daryl dixon fluff#daryl x reader#daryl dixion imagine#daryl dixion x reader#daryl dixon x reader#daryl dixon#daryl dixon fic
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Upon request, today we have a rec list of A/B/O fics with touch deprivation! If you enjoy our rec lists and want them to continue, please be sure to like and reblog this post to help spread the word.
1) Get Nesting & Soft Knots | General Audiences | 5,714 words
Note: It is also locked and can only be read by AO3 users.
AU where Omega Louis who runs a nesting materials Youtube channel meets Alpha Harry who knits his own blankets.
2) Every Time We Touch | General Audiences | 5,806 words
Note: It is also locked and can only be read by AO3 users.
Louis laughed when he heard the term professional cuddler for the first time. His doctor let Louis laugh and then explained the purpose behind the profession and how it could help Louis. It took a few weeks but Louis finally scheduled an appointment, now all he had to do was leave his car and walk into the house.
3) Tearing Me Apart | Not Rated | 6,079 words
Louis knew his heart was breaking and there was nothing he could do about it. He knew the day his best friend finally presented as an Alpha that he was his alpha but Harry kept breaking his heart.
He kept bringing random omegas into their shared apartment and Louis just cried each night with a hand over his mouth to stifle the noise. His touch deprivation was getting bad but his alpha didn't know.
4) Everything Comes Back To You | Explicit | 8,643 words
Harry and Louis are childhood best friends. What happens when Harry has to move towns just as they are starting their secondary gender presentations? What happens when fate brings them back together years later in the most unexpected of ways?
5) Night Out | Explicit | 9,741 words
Note: This fic is the prequel to fic #xx on this list. It is also locked and can only be read by AO3 users.
Symphony hall was the first place Louis had felt at home in this city, and he always had the box to himself. Until tonight.
Symphony hall was the first place Louis had felt at home in this city, and he always had the box to himself. Until tonight.
6) Unfortunate Fortunes | Not Rated | 9,793 words
There are three stages of touch deprivation. Stage one is very mild, stage two leads to itchy skin and restless nights, but stage three is the worst. Omegas with stage three touch deprivation, rarely survive because the only cure for it is finding your true mate.
Louis Tomlinson is an omega with stage three touch deprivation and Harry Styles is his new alpha neighbour who also happens to be a famous boxer-not that Louis knows.
7) Breathe Me In, Breathe Me Out | General Audiences | 14,263 words
Louis is drawn into a quaint candle shop in his desire to find ways to soothe himself while struggling with touch depri. It takes him two more run-ins and with the lovely alpha sales assistant, and a drop, to figure out the source of the scent that imprints upon him and calms his omega. Idiots to lovers.
8) Just Let Me | Explicit | 14,714 words
Note: This fic is locked and can only be read by AO3 users.
The party was going well. So well, Niall had already sworn undying love to one multi-tiered chocolate cake, two friendly corgi-poodle mixes, Zayn’s hair, and the entire population of Los Angeles. So well, Zayn had only laughed and ruffled Niall’s hair and not even twitched towards a cigarette. So well, nearly everyone had spilled far past the boundaries of the night’s original plans, extracting bottles of vodka from the cabinets and losing a lot of clothes. Harry had proclaimed that he was finally going to throw a small and very grownup dinner party and of course here they were three hours later, fifty people half-naked in the pool. Soon to be full-naked, if Louis had to guess. Everybody in LA loved a heated pool. Everybody loved Harry.
9) Captain Cupid | Not Rated | 15,331 words
“Right,” Niall started, finally getting the opportunity to unleash his horrible plan. “Well, as you both know, I’m an excellent matchmaker. A human Cupid. The best of the best at finding one's mate. And I’ve decided it’s time to make money doing it.”
“Oh, God no,” Louis groaned, picking up his empty plate and placing it in the sink. He needed to escape as quickly as possible.
Or the one where Niall enlists his friends to help start a speed dating side hustle. Things don't go as planned... or maybe they do?
10) Your Touch Is The Only Thing I Feel | Mature | 15,979 words
Liam. Liam was finally here. Louis kept his eyes closed and cuddled farther into Liam’s side, revelling in the pheromones Louis’ body desperately needed. He wasn’t sure how long Liam had been holding him, but Louis figured it had to have been at least an hour by the way his body had loosened. The need of an alpha’s touch seemed to have been temporarily lifted from his mind.
Louis listened to the sounds of the pub around him. It was louder than before he had fallen asleep and he briefly wondered why Liam hadn’t just woken him to go back to their flat.
“Who the fuck are you?”
Louis’ eyes flew open at the sound of Niall’s voice, and the arm that had been around Louis shoulders lifted in the same instant. He missed the warmth immediately.
Louis looked from Niall’s stormy face over to the person who was definitely not Liam. The alpha Liam impersonator, who smelled a lot better than the actual Liam now that Louis was alert, looked back at Louis with wide eyes and familiar furrowed brows.
11) Etched In Salt (Is A Cathedral Of The World) | Explicit | 24,417 words
Note: This fic has mentions of BH.
Louis asks for very few things in life, and they are: to solve cases, to keep bad people from doing their bad things, to get good coffee, to go home to a spacious apartment with nobody else in it, and to manage his stupid telempathy powers with minimal interference. And now he's stuck in a tiny cabin in a snowstorm in the middle of god-awful-nowhere with Harry Styles. Because of course he is.
Louis asks for very few things in life, and they are: to solve cases, to keep bad people from doing their bad things, to get good coffee, to go home to a spacious apartment with nobody else in it, and to manage his stupid telempathy powers with minimal interference. And now he's stuck in a tiny cabin in a snowstorm in the middle of god-awful-nowhere with Harry Styles. Because of course he is.
12) You Go Undercover (You Cross Your Fingers) | Explicit | 25,815 words
Louis didn’t think that motherhood would be easy, but he certainly wasn’t prepared for just how challenging it would be. He also wasn't prepared for a certain alpha called Harry appearing each time he needs help until accepting is no longer a difficult thing to do.
13) Dont Know Its Lost Til You Find It | Explicit | 30,614 words
Maybe it’ll be better this way. Maybe Louis just needs to distance himself, get over his crush so Harry doesn’t have to worry about his obsessive friend who feels too much and says too little.
He wonders what this girl is like. What she looks like, what conversations they had to make Harry fall for her in three days. If maybe she’s just stellar in bed. If she smells like heaven or if it’s just the fact she’s a girl.
He wonders and wonders, resists the temptation to stare at the alpha, and gets exactly no work done.
14) Compass To My Soul | Teen & Up | 31,439 words
Harry Styles, alpha, is 1/4 of the perfect pack, and 1/5 of world famous boy band One Direction. He spends his time touring the world with his best friends and family.
Louis Tomlinson, omega, is 1/5 of world famous boy band One Direction. He spends his time hoping his bandmates don’t notice him.
15) Here, And Where You Are. | General Audiences | 32,852 words
In a world where astrology is real and advanced, Harry finds out that Louis is his soulmate. The catch? Louis’s at the heart of a protest for omega/soulmate rights against the very case Harry is representing at court. Before they pass each other too many times, the universe takes it upon themselves to make them meet.
16) Too Young To Know | Mature | 35,412 words
Louis blinked awake and quickly wiped the tears from his eyes. This was the second morning in a row he had woken up after dreaming about Harry.
“Babe, what’s wrong?” Eric asked as he held Louis tighter in his arms. Louis liked being the little spoon, except for when he’d rather be holding someone else. Which were the past two days.
17) Picking Up The Pieces | Explicit | 37,607 words
Louis returns to his hometown for the first time in ten years for his high school reunion and is faced with memories he’s long since tried to forget.
18) Give Me Love | Explicit | 41,041 words
Louis doesn't feel like a good omega, Harry doesn't remember how to be an alpha, and they figure it out together.
19) All I Want For Christmas Is You | Not Rated | 43,248 words
A Christmas AU in which a soft alpha with gorgeous green eyes and an even prettier smile moves into Louis' apartment complex and turns the omega's world upside down during his most favourite time of the year - featuring christmas decorating, christmas markets, cookies in the making, and copious amounts of mulled wine (and kisses).
20) Your Touch Shouldn't Make Me Feel Like This | Explicit | 48,883 words
Uni AU in which Alpha Harry has been in love with his omega friend for the longest time and one motorbike trip to the countryside with Louis made him realize that he could no longer hold back his feelings.
21) Hold On To Your Heart | Explicit | 54,183 words
The Proposal AU, where Louis is the no-nonsense editor in chief of one of the largest publishing houses in the country, and Harry is the unlucky assistant that gets roped into a fake engagement to prevent his boss from being deported. Things don't go as planned.
22) Your Gift is Wasted On Me | Not Rated | 54,472 words
Omega Louis has severe touch deprivation and is averse to touch. But he’s fine. Really.
Alpha Harry is the new neighbor who loves to bake cookies and is very curious about the omega across the hall.
23) Lost & Found In Oblivion | Explicit | 74,779 words
Omega Louis decided to hire an alpha for his heat to ease his touch deprivation, but little did he know everything would grow into so much more.
24) Invisible String | Explicit | 84,911 words
Louis swears on his life that that man came out of literal nowhere and he thanks each lucky star for having good breaks in his car.
This strange alpha also happens to be the most beautiful being Louis has laid his eyes on.
For some unknown reason, the omega feels safe around the alpha. It might seem strange, but you can't always explain why or how things are the way they are. All you can really be sure of is that they happen for a reason. There's a higher power (call it what you want) that knows better and definitely knows more than you do.
25) Saving Symphony Hall | Explicit | 124,766 words
Note: This fic is a sequel to fic #xx on this list. It is also locked and can only be read by AO3 users.
“I think I have an idea,” Louis said. Slowly, and reluctantly, but with a growing sense of the inevitable. “God damnit, I think I have a really good idea.”
“Oh christ, that's the problem-solving face,” Babs said. “Last time we saw that face, he sold a company.”
“Wait, what?” Zayn asked.
“Right place, right time,” Louis said. “Also, fuck my life,”
“What?” Zayn repeated. Niall patted his hand.
“I usually just roll with whatever Louis is about to do,” he said. “It’s better for us all.”
“That’s the attitude,” said Louis, “I’ll tell you tomorrow. Tonight, I need to do some research. Zayn, give me your number. I’m gonna save our symphony.”
26) The Longer the Waiting the Sweeter the Kiss (It's Better My Darlin' I Promise You This) | Explicit | 160,589 words
It all started with a letter from his grandmother's Executor of the Estate. His life had been just fine in New York, he'd had a great internship, more friends than he knew what to do with, and a powerful family name to provide a million opportunities for him. But the minute he'd received that letter a desire for more was born. That was how he wound up here, stranded on the side of a dusty old road with a broken down car and a carry-on full of dreams.
Check out our other fic rec lists by category here and by title here.
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LOVING YOU | YUTA OKKOTSU X FEM!READER
004. UNKNOWN SUSPICION
CHAPTER SUMMARY: You and your fellow first years are taking a break from training when an important question comes up— What were you guys going to eat for lunch?
CHAPTER WARNINGS: None other than this is a filler-ish chapter
WORD COUNT: 1.4K
INTRODUCTION | CH3 | CH5
You didn't exactly find training to be a thrilling practice. It was necessary for you to train as a sorcerer, but there was something about training with Okkotsu that made you look forward to it. She'd show up with a bright smile, waving at him.
"Maybe I subconsciously want to be a teacher..."
"What?"
"Huh?"
Snapping out of your thoughts, you straightened her back. You were sitting with the other first years on the stairs near the training field because you all needed a quick break. All of you besides Maki, anyway. The Zenin took a break just for the hell of it.
You wiped the sweat off of her forehead and turned to Maki with a weak smile, "Nothing! Heh, I was just thinking about things."
"Those things were being a teacher. Piece of advice: don't. It'll turn out bad," Maki bluntly remarked.
Panda chimed in, "You're terrible at explaining science and math subjects, even if you understand them well."
"Y/N... this doesn't make sense. Should I ask Tsumiki?"
"Yeah, probably. Sorry about that, Megumi."
Inumaki nodded, "Salmon. Bonito flakes tuna."
You gasped in offense before you pouted, "I'm way better at jujutsu than teaching? You guys are so mean... but aren't wrong."
"At least you're self-aware," Panda shrugged.
For the 4 months you've been classmates, you've become extremely close as friends. Okkotsu noticed this as he observed his classmates, his hands supporting his elbows. In the 3 weeks he's been in the school, he was getting the hang of how things go.
Though, it was still hard in some aspects. He couldn't understand Inumaki at all besides for when the platinum-haired boy nods or shakes his head. Then there was Maki, who was just more hard-headed and blunt. Okkotsu couldn't even count the number of times he's felt shivers run down his spine within her presence.
When it came to you and Panda, however, he was fine with your presence. You had been kind to him from the start and the same applied to Panda. Panda just the comedian of the group, and you the mother.
"I think you're doing great, Y/N-san," Okkotsu scratched the back of his neck. "You're great at teaching me! And uh- nice too. The best teachers are nice. Wait... Well, that's just my personal opinion."
You all stared as he rambled, some words understandable and others in whispers. You were just plainly staring at him before your lips turned up into a smile. It warmed your heart to see him be supportive.
You gently elbowed Okkotsu's arm, "At least someone believes in me. Come on, let's show them I'm not so bad!"
"Yeah!" Okkotsu played along as you giggled.
Panda closely observed as you two grabbed your bamboo practice swords and went into the field. There was an unknown suspicion lingering in his gut that he couldn't place.
You and Okkotsu stood some feet apart with your swords drawn in front of each other. The boy's face washed over with determination while yours had stayed neutral.
You attacked first, swinging your sword down as Okkotsu blocked it by backing up and allowing your bamboo sword to hit the top of his. He moved his tool clockwise and tried to hit your shoulder when you blocked it.
"So how has transitioning to here been?" you questioned when you skipped back a step. "To your liking?"
"Um... I guess it's alr-ack!"
Okkotsu paused for a moment to answer, and that was enough for you to sweep him off his feet and point your weapon to his head. The ravenette was visibly surprised.
You withdrew your practice sword and held her hand out for Okkotsu. He took it after staring for a moment and looked down at the hand that held the bamboo item.
"Sorry for distracting you. I wanted to see if you can multi-task, but I guess you can't for now," you sheepishly scratched your cheek.
Okkotsu glanced up with a flush of embarrassment, "I-it's alright. Practice is practice, right? I can't free Rika if I don't practice... Can we try again?"
"Yeah, of course," you had nodded before you two went at it again.
You continued training and even had Maki join the fighting at times. It was when you and Okkotsu were panting on the ground that you both decided to call it off.
"Training doesn't work if you're doing it until you're that tired," Maki stood above you and looked down. "You'll be too exhausted to do any more tomorrow when your body is sore."
You tried to get as much oxygen into you system so your body would ache less, "Help me up?"
Maki held both of her arms out and you took them both. You dusted yourself off just in case there was any dirt on your clothes, then picked up the bamboo weapon.
"It's a Friday, right?" you asked your friends, to which they responded yes. "And it's lunch time?" They all nodded, one in confusion and the other three already knowing the deal.
"W-what?" Okkotsu jumped when Maki placed her hands on his shoulders from behind.
Maki's face was serious, "Don't let her win."
"Let her win...? What are you talking about, Maki-san?"
Panda joined in, "Just trust us. We need you on our side, Yuta."
"Salmon," Inumaki nodded.
"Are you guys teaming up on me?" You pouted, "That's unfair."
And that's when you and Maki stood in front of each other with determined faces. Okkotsu thought you were going to fight until...
"Rock, paper, scissors, shoot!"
...he realized that the situation wasn't all that serious. Okkotsu looked at Panda for any explanation but received none since the cursed corpse was paying attention to the match, which you won.
Maki cursed, "Argh, dammit! I knew I should've chosen paper."
You were then faced with going against Inumaki. You both showed your choices— scissors and paper. You began to gleam from another win.
"Lose and you're a day closer to death," Maki placed Okkotsu right in front of you, who told the Zenin to not scare him like that.
'Is no one going to tell me what's even going on!?'
You explained as if you had read his mind, "It's a friendly thing we do to choose where to go out to eat. We can all be indecisive at times."
"Ohhh," Okkotsu nervously chuckled, "then do I really have to die if I lose?"
"I didn't say I would kill you. I only told you that you'd be a day closer to your death."
"Isn't that the same thing?"
"No."
Panda began to complain, "Hurry up! I'm hungry!"
Maki pointed out, "You can't even eat, you walking stuffed animal."
"Does that mean Panda doesn't get to choose? Since he can't eat," the special grade sorcerer was curious.
"Hm, maybe we can do rock, paper, scissors to sort out where and what we'll eat?"
"I'm a panda so I can't go out unless you lot want to buy a cart of sausages."
"...Maybe we shouldn't do rock, paper, scissors."
Panda obnoxiously shook his head, "A common misconception! Everything I eat turns into cursed energy, so it's better for us all."
Maki sourly looked to the side, "It's so stupid. Panda doesn't choose because we'll end up on a sausage diet. It's disgusting."
"Not disgusting."
"Disgusting."
You then intervened so that the two wouldn't continue. You knew that if they did, Maki would get irritated enough to attack Panda, who they all silently agreed was her personal punching bag. Well, everyone besides Panda himself.
"Anyway, Y/N is still a bad option too. All this steak and sushi is killing me."
You deadpanned, "And all the junk food you eat doesn't?"
"At least there's more variety. Sweet, salty, savory. There's a whole lotta options I got compared to the same old sushi and steak."
"A whole lot of options that have much more calories and aren't as healthy," you pointed out. "If you won as much as I did, our bellies would grow huge with all the junk food."
"We'll burn it off with all this training we do." Maki paused in thought, "But the thought of turning out like Panda is horrifying."
"Wha-!? Why do you always drag me into it?"
“Easy target.”
“Tuna tuna.”
WRITTEN: 02/19/2022
AUTHOR’S NOTE:
your average slice of life filler (of sorts) chap apologies😓
#୨୧ [ loving you ]#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk x you#yuuta x reader#yuuta okkotsu x reader#okkotsu yuuta x reader#yuta x reader#okkotsu x reader#jjk#jujutsu kaisen
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Love Like Ghosts (Chapter 21) - a Shigaraki x f!Reader fic
You knew the empty house in a quiet neighborhood was too good to be true, but you were so desperate to get out of your tiny apartment that you didn't care, and now you find yourself sharing space with something inhuman and immensely powerful. As you struggle to coexist with a ghost whose intentions you're unsure of, you find yourself drawn unwillingly into the upside-down world of spirits and conjurers, and becoming part of a neighborhood whose existence depends on your house staying exactly as it is, forever.
But ghosts can change, just like people can. And as your feelings and your ghost's become more complex and intertwined, everything else begins to crumble. (cross-posted to Ao3)
Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20
Chapter 21
There’s something wrong with your house, but you knew that when you bought it. You were okay with that when you bought it, but right now the thing that’s wrong with your house is the fact that you’re not in it. Tomura is coming home today – is home right now, in fact – but you’re not there with him. Instead you’re out to breakfast, in the same diner where you and the others plotted to kill the conjurer, with every single human in the neighborhood. Plus Inko, because why not?
You said you’re in the diner. It would be more accurate to say that you’re trapped in the diner, because you’re stuck in the corner of the booth between Shinsou and Jin’s entire family, wedged in so tightly that going out over the table or under it would be impossible. You’ve determined that this is Aizawa’s fault, so you glare at him. “There had better be a good reason why you dragged me here.”
“It’s for your own good,” Aizawa says. “And for Tomura’s, so if you claim to care about him –”
“If I claim to?”
“You’ll allow us to speak. We have more experience with this than you do.”
“None of us had help,” Jin’s mom says. “We had to figure things out by trial and error, and given the situation, we didn’t think it would be fair to let you go through the same thing.”
“Helping a ghost get used to being a human is hard,” Shinsou says. “And getting used to being human is hard for a ghost. We’re helping you. The other ghosts are all at your house helping him.”
“Oh.”
“They have a lot of stuff to explain,” Keigo says. “Stuff you wouldn’t want to explain. Like body stuff.”
“And hygiene stuff,” Inko adds. “They’re used to dematerializing any time they get dirty. Having to clean up is an adjustment.”
“It’s all an adjustment,” Aizawa says. “Our purpose here is to make the adjustment as easy as possible. Let’s begin.”
“No, let’s order,” Keigo says. The server’s here. “Hi. We’ll need a lot more coffee than this.”
There are so many of you that ordering takes forever, and while you wait your turn, you think over the events of the last few days. You went back to work the day after you were discharged from the hospital, scared the hell out of your coworkers, and got booted out by Mr. Yagi, who insisted you go home and rest. You went to the hospital instead, hanging out in Tomura’s room with the ghosts who were on shift. You and Hizashi spent some time formulating a backstory for Tomura, one that lines up with the lies you already told your parents, and Mr. Yagi helped you sneak the fake birth certificate into the government records. That was your first day out. On your second day out, you got to go back to work.
Work sucked. You tore through your inbox like a crazy person, trying to get as much done as possible, knowing you’d be out the whole next week and probably longer. Your progress was impeded by your coworkers, who’d heard rumors about what happened – you and your boyfriend getting kidnapped by a serial killer – and wanted to know if they were true. Surprisingly, Nakayama came to your rescue, shooing the others off. She made it clear that the price was a tell-all happy hour later on, but you decided it was worth it to get everybody else off your back.
Tomura woke up officially last night. The ghosts went to pick him up this morning, right around when the humans dragged you out of your house. You haven’t even seen him, and you’re so crabby about it that when the server asks you what you’re having today, you order half the menu on Aizawa’s dime.
Keigo manages to hold in his snickers until after the server’s walked away. “Gotta fuel up for when you get back, huh?”
“Hey. Gross,” Spinner protests. “There’s kids here.”
“Nah, I’m kidding. I saw what he looks like now. Too much exertion would probably kill him.” Keigo tips a huge wink at you and you roll your eyes. “Anyway, I officially call this meeting of ghost friends anonymous to order. Who wants to start?”
“Probably one of you two,” Jin says, gesturing at Inko and Aizawa. “You all have the same kind of ghost.”
Inko and Aizawa trade a glance, and Inko speaks up first. “Be prepared for a lot of frustration on Tomura’s part,” she says. “Most ghosts permanently embody themselves into healthy forms, so it’s likely that he’ll perceive some unfairness, and possibly express some regret. It’s got much less to do with you than with the adjustment to living as a human, so try not to take it personally.”
“Yeah, don’t take anything personally,” Jin agrees. “Himiko bit us a lot at first. For, like, no reason.”
You try to imagine Tomura biting you for no reason, and can’t. “Remember,” Aizawa says, “Tomura wouldn’t have been capable of permanent embodiment unless it was what he truly wanted. That doesn’t mean adjusting to it will be easy.”
“Like Takami says, the physical stuff is hard to explain,” Shinsou says. He grimaces. “But even just the rules of being human are a lot for them to figure out. They’ve been watching us all follow the rules, but they’ve never had to do it themselves, and they’re still them. They still don’t get a lot of the stuff we do. He’s gonna ask a lot of questions. And he’s gonna complain.”
“Magne had this thing about crosswalks,” Spinner says. “Also about clothes. She still has a thing about clothes. She thinks she can wear whatever she wants, wherever she wants, whenever she wants, as long as the important bits are covered up. I don’t really know how to explain that you just can’t do some stuff.”
You sort of like Magne’s don’t-give-a-fuck attitude about it, but you can see how it would cause trouble. “The more power they had before they embodied themselves, the less attentive they are to social norms or boundaries,” Aizawa says. “Behavior in public is something to be watchful of. A public indecency charge is not something you want to incur.”
He’s scowling in a way that says this piece of advice is coming out of personal experience. You can’t decide if you want to hear the full story or if you never want to think about it again. “I mean, I think you’ve done sort of a good job training him on this stuff already,” Keigo says. “He’s got some social skills.”
You feel like he might be giving Tomura a little too much credit. “Like three social skills.”
“That’s three more than Dabi’s got,” Spinner points out, which shouldn’t really make you feel better but does anyway. “I hung out with him more than anybody except her, and he’s not that bad. It’ll probably get harder once you two start going out in public, but he’s not starting at zero. He’s at like – level three.”
“One level for every social skill,” Shinsou says, and snickers. “Nice.”
“I think the larger problem is overstimulation,” Jin’s mom says, and it takes all your self-control not to start in with some really inappropriate thoughts. “However they’ve been perceiving through their senses when they’re embodied, it’s much more intense when the embodiment’s permanent – at least from what we saw with Himiko.”
“In general, they struggle with one sense more than the others,” Aizawa says. “For Eri it was taste.”
“Himiko, too,” Jin’s mom confirms. “That might have been what the biting was about. She also struggled with smell, which makes sense, since taste and smell are fairly connected. What about Magne, Spinner?”
“Sight for sure,” Spinner says. “Light sensitivity, color sensitivity, everything. She sees colors the rest of us don’t even know exist. It’s cool. But it sucked at first.”
“For Hizashi it was hearing,” Aizawa adds. “Ghosts are able to hear in multiple dimensions, and his hearing was particularly sensitive as a ghost. It took him two years to be able to go without noise-canceling headphones outside.”
You have a feeling you already know what Tomura’s oversensitivity is going to be. Given the number of contact allergies he’s already displayed and what he was like as a ghost, physical touch is going to be a big problem. It’s so daunting to think of that it pushes you into asking your first real question of the day. “How did you help them cope with it?”
“Patience,” Inko says.
You thought that was a given. “Time,” Jin’s mom adds.
“Space,” Aizawa says, and everyone nods. “Now, for the first few weeks –”
You knew helping Tomura adapt to being human wasn’t going to be easy, but as the ghost friends outline all the things you hadn’t even considered, you begin to grasp just how hard it’s going to be. Every last ghost did damage to their relationship with their human, or humans, while they were trying to adjust. Every human had more than a few moments of thinking how much easier it would have been for their ghost to stay a ghost. Even Hizashi and Mr. Yagi, who were the most intentional about their embodiments, had days where they made living with them feel impossible. You’re glad everyone is being honest with you, thankful that they aren’t sugarcoating it, but your stomach is tying itself in a knot.
Tomura’s embodiment wasn’t just an adjustment, it was a last resort to avoid being sucked back into the world between. And it almost didn’t work. If even the ghosts who wanted this were nightmares to live with at first, what’s going to happen with him? Nobody can answer that for you, or tell you how to cope with however many times Tomura will probably tell you that he wishes the two of you had never met. All they can tell you is the same three things: Patience, time, and space.
To be fair to the ghost friends, they highlight the fun stuff, too. Spinner talks about taking Magne to a museum for the first time, and to a mall. Jin and his family turned themselves into foodies so they could try everything alongside Himiko. Even before Shinsou and Eri were adopted, Shinsou taught himself to make candy apples, because Eri had seen them on TV and wanted to try them. Aizawa, looking as calm and reflective as you’ve ever seen him, talks about taking Hizashi to movies, to concerts, to the opera, and watching him hear things as they were meant to be heard for the first time. Inko, smiling broadly, tells you about when she was pregnant, and Mr. Yagi’s reaction the first time he put his hand on her stomach and felt Izuku kick.
“He looked like he’d seen a ghost,” she says, laughing. “He didn’t know babies did that.”
Keigo is laughing, too. You picture Mr. Yagi’s startled expression, the one you’ve seen so many times right before he starts coughing blood, and find it in yourself to smile. “They’re still themselves underneath it all,” Inko says. “Even if it takes time to see.”
It’s quiet for a moment. Most of the plates are empty, including yours. You’ve been eating steadily just to have something to do with your hands. “There’s one more thing,” Keigo says. “Stronger ghosts keep some of their powers when they embody permanently. According to Touya, Tomura kept a lot of his. He can still read auras, like they all can, but he can project a pretty strong aura all on his own. And he can still drain stuff, even if he can’t do anything with the life-force. So far it’s looking like he needs to touch something with all five fingers for it to happen, and since it’s not anything close to a natural human ability, he has to really want to destroy it. Just keep an eye on him if he starts to get mad.”
“Okay,” you say. “What else?”
“We’re happy for you,” Shinsou says, and Inko nods, smiling still. Everybody’s smiling, now that you notice it. “It’s a big thing. And it’s a good thing. Now you’re really part of the neighborhood.”
You could be. You can be, now that you and Tomura can both leave if you want to. For a moment, hope begins to tug at you – but then you remember what Keigo said, and what everybody else said about patience, space, and time. It’ll be a long time before the two of you can be part of anything. And probably a long time before the two of you are a two of you again, too. Aizawa’s phone buzzes, and he looks at it. “They’re finishing up over there. We should head back, too.”
He heads to the cash register to pay the bill, and the rest of you work on extricating yourselves from the booth. You wince as you stand up, feeling your stitches pull. Keigo notices. “How are you holding up?”
“I’ll live.”
“Don’t push yourself too hard with this stuff,” Keigo says. He gestures awkwardly at his broken arm with the other. “It’s a lot to bounce back from. I’m here when you need to talk. Like I have been.”
“Same here,” you say, and Keigo smiles. “And, um – thanks for taking over with the kids, during the fight. I had to try.”
“It was a pretty good try,” Keigo says magnanimously. “You ran a fire poker right through that guy’s chest. Remind me not to piss you off.”
“You know, I think your house is still the scariest house in the neighborhood,” Jin muses. “I figured Dabi’s house or Aizawa’s was going to take over, but nope. Tomura still has a bunch of his powers and you almost killed two guys. You’re the scariest for sure.”
The scariest house in the neighborhood, and now you’re part of the reason why it’s scary. The list of things that make you feel better these days is short and weird, and Jin’s statement gets added almost instantly. “Thanks.”
You all carpooled in the Bubaigawara van, and Jin’s mom parks it in front of her own house, allowing everybody else to spill out onto the sidewalk. You and Keigo and Aizawa are last out, and as you get your feet under you, you notice a lot of ghosts milling around in front of your house. In front of it, not inside the fence. You make your way over, stumbling a little bit. “Did he kick you out?”
“Nah, we left. Figured he needed some processing time,” Hizashi says. He’s looking past you, at Aizawa. “Hey, what are you doing walking around? You’re supposed to rest your leg.”
Himiko skips up to you, towing Eri and Izuku after her. “It’s all fine,” she tells you, smiling. “He understands everything and we gave him some of everybody’s clothes until he can buy his own.”
“He looks even more like me now!” Eri is bouncing from foot to foot. “He’s going to come over to our house.”
“Oh.” You wonder if Tomura actually meant it, or if he just said it so she’d leave him alone. “That’s – nice.”
“You’re invited, too,” Eri assures you. Then she, like Hizashi, looks over your shoulder. “Dad! Hitoshi!”
Himiko peels off to meet Jin, leaving you with Izuku, who’s watching the house. “Tomura’s still really powerful,” he says. “Even when he’s human the aura is still there. Dad says he could probably take on a strong conjurer, even like this.”
“What else did your dad say?”
“That’s for you to ask Tomura yourself,” Mr. Yagi says, drawing up alongside Izuku. He smiles at you. “I’ve cleared your schedule next week. Let me know if you need more time.”
“And call if you need anything,” Inko reiterates. She takes Mr. Yagi’s hand and wraps an arm around Izuku’s shoulders. “Come over for dinner when you’re ready.”
“Yes!” Izuku looks way too happy at the thought. “I have lots of questions for both of you!”
You decide you’ll wait a while to take them up on that invitation, but they’re not the only ones who stop to talk to you specifically. Each of the ghosts stops by briefly, all of them reassuring you that Tomura’s fine. You’re not going to believe them until you see it for yourself.
Finally, Aizawa and Hizashi are all that’s left. Aizawa hands you a book – another one of his. You read the cover out loud and snicker. “What To Expect When Your Ghost Embodies Itself? Great title.”
“It’s a little boring,” Hizashi says, and you realize he doesn’t get the joke. Aizawa is smirking slightly. “Good stuff in there, though.”
“It covers everything we discussed earlier, and a little more,” Aizawa says. “Good luck.”
“You probably won’t be up to it, but come over later if you want,” Hizashi says. “That conjurer ruined our Halloween, so we’re throwing a make-up party at our place. Costumes mandatory.”
There’s no way you’re making it to that party. You thank them for the invitation anyway, tuck the book under your arm, and step through the front gate into your yard. Up the front steps, through the unlocked door, into the front hall. Some part of you is expecting Tomura to materialize in front of you, but he can’t do that anymore. “I’m home,” you call out, and Phantom comes scrabbling across the floor towards you, wagging her tail. You greet her, then pick her up. “Tomura?”
“In here.”
He’s home. Your heart leaps so hard and fast it seems a little ridiculous, and you hurry into the living room to see him. He’s there, sitting on his usual couch cushion, wearing some bizarre mix of clothing from every guy in the neighborhood, plus a pair of socks that could only have come from Himiko. The urge to launch yourself at him, to climb all over him like he’s done to you so many times and prove to yourself that he’s alive and he’s safe, is overpowering. But you remember what the others said. Patience, time, space. You don’t want to overwhelm him. You set Phantom down on the couch next to him and take a few steps back, keeping a respectful distance.
It’s quiet for a while. You break the silence. “How do you feel?”
He has the hood of his hoodie up, throwing his face into shadow. “Like shit.”
That’s about what you were expecting. You need more detail if you’re going to help, but you don’t want to push him. “Did everything go okay at the hospital?”
His shoulders lift, then fall. You see him grimace. “It was weird. All that stuff they did. The stupid paperwork is over there if you want to look at it.”
“Okay.” Before, when he wasn’t human, you’d have helped yourself. Now – “Do you want me to look at it?”
Another shrug. If he didn’t want you to, he’d say no, right? You pick the folder up off the coffee table and open it to the discharge summary, which is a mistake. The list of injuries Tomura came in with is staggering. Seeing this, you’re amazed they only kept him in for five days. “Well?” Tomura asks.
You set the folder down. “You healed up really fast.”
“There are things wrong with me,” Tomura says. One hand rises to scratch his neck. “My skin is messed up. I’m – allergic.”
“I have allergy medicine for stuff like that. And itch cream.”
“They gave me some.” Tomura still hasn’t taken down his hood. “What did the humans want?”
“They wanted to tell me how to help you adjust,” you say, and Tomura makes a derisive sound. Phantom stirs, whines, and noses closer to him. “What did the ghosts want with you?”
“To explain.” The derision is obvious in Tomura’s voice. “Like I’m stupid or something.”
“You aren’t. They don’t think that,” you say, only to realize that Tomura still probably knows what the other ghosts are thinking better than you do. “They probably don’t want you to make the same mistakes as they did. From what the humans were saying, they all made a lot of mistakes.”
“They almost scared their humans off.” Tomura’s voice goes weirdly flat. “I already did that.”
“What?”
“I didn’t know what I look like. When I saw the picture on the ID, that was the first time.” Tomura seems to sink further into his hoodie, and suddenly you understand why he hasn’t taken down the hood. “No wonder you didn’t want me embodied. You’d have to look at me all the time.”
“Tomura –”
“I just wanted to stay. I didn’t want to go back. I thought it would be the same, but it’s not,” Tomura says. There’s a weird strain in his voice now, one you’ve never heard from him but know intimately yourself. “There are things wrong with me. I’m ugly. You wanted me when I was a ghost and I was powerful, not when I’m human and weak. You won’t even come near me.”
“No,” you say, and Tomura scoffs. “No! When I was talking to the others, they said it’s hard to get used to a human body – stuff might be harder to cope with now that it’s permanent – they said I should give you time and space –”
“I didn’t do this so I could have time and space!” Tomura’s still got enough power to rattle the walls without raising his voice. “I did it so I could – so we –”
His voice breaks. Phantom edges closer to him and he shies away, both hands coming up to cover his face at odd angles. You stand there for a moment, paralyzed by the decision between everything the other ghost friends told you and what Tomura’s saying now, what he’s doing now. But in the end it’s not a decision at all. You hurry around the coffee table, move Phantom to the cushion at the far end of the couch, and sit down right next to Tomura, getting in his space without asking the same way he always does to you. You pry his hands away from his face one at a time, and he fights you. He’s fighting you with a fraction of his strength and you both know it. “Let go. I don’t want you. I don’t want your pity –”
“It’s not pity,” you say. He lets you have one of his hands and you immediately try for the other. “I don’t know what this is like for you. I’m trying to do the right thing, but I should have just asked you what you needed. I can do better.”
“You don’t want to. You don’t want this!” He pulls his hand free of yours to gesture at himself. “I know what you wanted. You wanted –”
“You.” You don’t even have to think before you answer. “I wanted you. I want you.”
He stares at you from between his fingers. You give up on trying to free his hands and press in close against his side. He startles at your touch, but doesn’t shy away. He smells like the hospital. His voice is quiet, shaky, strained. “You liked when I was cold.”
“It was nice. But I’ve got AC. And now I can hold you for as long as I want without getting frostbite.”
“You liked that I got rid of the bugs.”
“I’m still making you get rid of the bugs,” you say, and Tomura makes a sound that’s too watery to be laughter. “But I can get rid of my own, too. I had a whole plan for that hornets’ nest.”
“Your plan sucked.” It did sort of suck, looking back. Tomura’s voice is quieter when he speaks again. “You liked when I was stronger than you.”
“You’re still stronger than me.” You can feel it when you touch him, a faint thread of power vibrating just beneath his skin. “That’s not the important stuff.”
“What is?”
“Everything else,” you say. “You’re still you, Tomura. It might feel different to be in the world like this, but you’re still who you are. That’s who I want. Who I love.”
It’s quiet for a long time. “You liked the way I looked before.”
It’s a weird enough thing to say to startle a laugh out of you. “The way you look now is how you’ve always looked, Tomura. Your hair’s a different color, that’s all.”
“I always looked like this.” Tomura sounds skeptical. “You said I was pretty.”
“You are pretty.” You reach for the edges of his hood and his hands come up, grasping your wrists, holding you still. He holds you there for a few seconds, then lets go, and lets you pull down the hood.
It’s him. Those same features you saw outlined in steam in the bathroom, on your back porch with the ashes of a hornets’ nest at his feet. The same red eyes that have watched you for almost two years, that have catalogued every inch of you, that looked up into yours after the gateway to the world between slammed shut for the last time. You’ve seen all his expressions before, except this one: The way he looks when he’s been crying. As you watch, his pupils open and shut, and more tears slip down his cheeks.
You scramble to wipe them away, cradling his face in your hands. He flinches when your palm gently meets his cheek, and you draw back, only for him to catch your wrist and press your hand hard against his skin. That feels normal enough to make you smile. Tomura’s never been shy about pulling you around. “You’re pretty,” you say again. “You’ve never looked any different than this. I like it. I don’t care if you do. I don’t care about anything except that you’re home.”
“But –”
“The next words out of your mouth had better not be ‘Dabi said’.”
An aggrieved silence falls, and you find yourself struggling not to laugh. It feels normal. It feels like any weird little argument you and Tomura have had, except that he can’t dematerialize to teach you a lesson and you can’t end the fight just by stepping outside. “You love me,” Tomura ventures after a while. “Like this?”
“Don’t be stupid,” you say. “Of course I do.”
Tomura knocks you over a second later.
Cuddling on the couch is more complicated than it used to be, mainly because Tomura’s a long way from being used to what touch feels like in a truly human form and he can’t get comfortable the way he usually would. If he can barely stand to stretch out on top of you, there’s no way he can handle kissing, and you can tell that the overload of sensation doesn’t turn him on so much as it fries his brain. Not that that stops him from trying to kiss you more. “Take it easy,” you say. “You just got home. I don’t want to take you back to the hospital because you tried to kiss me and had a heart attack.”
“That doesn’t happen,” Tomura says with confidence. Then, as you watch, you see him start to doubt himself. Some how he’s less sure about humans now that he is one. “Does it?”
“It could.” You remember something from a few days ago about how too much exertion on not enough calories could damage Tomura’s heart, and he still feels way too thin. “Can you reach your discharge papers? I want to read them.”
He reaches out to grab them from the coffee table, but it’s ever so slightly too far away. Before he’d dematerialize one hand, snatch them, and bring them back. Now he just glares at them and keeps glaring – and as you watch in some mix of surprise and horror, the folder lifts from the table and drops to the ground next to the couch.
Tomura realizes you’re staring at him and smirks. “I never said all my powers were gone.”
Now that he’s realized you still love him, he’s cocky, but you’re not annoyed about it. You’re not going to forget what it was like when you got home, what it was like to see him cry, and you’re not dumb enough to think today will be the last time it comes up. Tomura flops down again, his head against your chest, and you pick up his discharge papers and flip through them. Sure enough, there’s one specific instruction highlighted and in bold type. “No intense physical activity until you’re cleared by a doctor,” you say. Tomura scowls. You keep reading. “Your follow-up’s in two weeks. It’s not that long.”
“Maybe if we go slow –”
“No.” You set the papers down and trace over one tendon in his neck, wincing as he twitches and writhes and digs his knees and elbows into every soft body part you possess. He’s lying on top of all your stitches, and it’s starting to hurt. “You can barely handle being touched at all right now. I’m not going to send you back to the hospital and I’m not going to melt your brain.”
“It’s my brain. I get to decide –”
“You don’t get to leave me,” you say, and Tomura looks up, startled. “Two weeks.”
Tomura studies you for a moment. Then he flops down again. “Fine. Two weeks. But then I get to – what happened? Why did you make that noise?”
You tried not to. Really. But one of the too-prominent points of Tomura’s ribcage just dug directly into one of your largest wounds, and you think you might have popped a stitch. Tomura sits up, pulls you with him, starts yanking at your shirt. “I want to see. Let me see –”
Your shirt turns to dust in an instant. You didn’t realize Tomura could do that to things that weren’t alive, and you sit there, bemused. Tomura is staring at you, eyes blazing with fury. “My marks,” he says, and you nod. It occurs to you that this is the first time he’s seen the extent of your injuries. “How did he take them out?”
“One at a time. With a knife.” You try to make light of it, try to sound like it isn’t haunting you, like waking up in a hospital bed after it was all over didn’t scare you so badly that you had to be sedated. “Not my best Monday ever.”
“Don’t joke about it.” Tomura’s voice is hard. “He hurt you so much you wanted to die. I should have killed him slower. It should have taken exactly as long as this did.”
You wrap your arms around yourself, trying to cover up the worst of the wounds. The doctors who treated you had decent poker faces, but since you’ve gotten home, you’ve gone out of your way to avoid getting a good look at what happened. Tomura’s expression as he looks at you tells you everything you need to know about how bad it is. “I haven’t even had them for a week yet,” you say. Your voice sounds thin. “They won’t look like this forever.”
Tomura’s jaw clenches. “I don’t care what they look like. I care that they hurt.”
You don’t know what to say to that. You sit there numbly and Tomura watches you, clearly thinking something over but not doing it, whatever it is. “I can’t,” he starts frustrated. “I can’t do the thing I want to do anymore. When I wasn’t materialized I could –”
He makes a gesture, and suddenly you understand what he means. You crawl forward across the couch into his arms, and he wraps himself around you. It’s not like it was before. He can’t enfold you completely like he used to, fitting like a second skin. But now you’ve got something solid to lean against, someone who’s warm like you are, someone who maybe understands how you feel about this whole thing. Tomura’s hugs were always a little awkward, even when he was fully materialized. He didn’t understand what was comfortable and what wasn’t, why you’d be at ease in one position but not in another, and he’d complain when you tried to adjust. Tomura’s not complaining now. He adjusts with you, and once you’re settled, you try not to move too much. It’s weird. But it’s the kind of weird you can get used to.
“You smell nice,” Tomura says after a little while. He unwraps one arm from around you and sniffs his own armpit. Then he makes a face. “I smell weird.”
“You smell like the hospital,” you say. “We can fix that. Want to shower?”
Tomura gives you a suspicious look. “I’m not allowed in the bathroom while you’re in there.”
“That was before.” You think over the events of the last week. He’s already seen you naked. The two of you have had sex. He’s your boyfriend, and he’s human. Whatever objections you had, they aren’t valid anymore. “The rules still apply if either of us is using the toilet, but we can shower together. If you want. Do you want to?”
“Don’t be stupid,” Tomura says, which means yes. “I thought you’d never let me.”
There are a lot of things you thought would never happen, and a lot of them happened in the last week. You pull yourself out of Tomura’s arms reluctantly and lead him up the stairs.
You check over your wound care instructions and Tomura’s as he gets undressed. Everything looks about the same for both of you. You also take the opportunity to go over the list of known allergens the doctors gave you yesterday. Almost all your soaps and shower products meet the criteria already – low to no scent, hypoallergenic, no harsh chemicals. You set out an extra towel and an extra sponge and lay down a bath mat, then turn on the water.
Since you met Tomura you’ve been taking hot showers, but they can be hard on skin, and you don’t want Tomura to faint. You opt for warm water instead, take off your own clothes, and inspect your stitches for a moment before stepping into the shower. The spot Tomura elbowed by accident looks unhappy, but the coarse black stitches haven’t come undone. Seeing them makes you feel sick. You look away and step into the shower, leaving the door cracked for Tomura to follow you in.
There’s room for both of you inside, but it’s a close fit. You have a feeling that you and Tomura will be having a discussion about the impracticality of shower sex at some point in the future, but that’s not for today. You switch positions carefully with Tomura so that he’s under the majority of the spray and watch him startle as it patters against his skin. You wonder what he’s thinking.
You’ve spent a lot of time wondering what Tomura’s thinking since you met him, but it occurs to you that you can ask. “What’s going on up there?”
“It’s – so much. Loud. But not loud. It feels like – a lot.” Tomura’s hair is plastered to his face from the water. He pushes it out of his eyes. “I’m fine. I don’t want to get out.”
“We won’t get out,” you promise. “Take the time you need.”
He twists this way and that under the spray, working on getting used to it. He’s got stitches, too, all of them taken with the same coarse thread as yours. “Now what?”
You pick up a bottle of shampoo. The mild kind. “Put this in your hair and sort of scrub it around, then rinse it out,” you explain. Tomura brushes his hair out of his eyes again, looking vaguely skeptical. “Or I can do it for you.”
“You.”
You should have known he’d answer like that. He’s got enough of a height advantage on you that you’re going to need him to sit down for this to work, and there are an awkward few minutes while the two of you get settled. You lean back against the wall, and Tomura leans back against your chest, head tipped forward. “Make sure you close your eyes,” you say. “This will sting if it gets in them.”
Tomura nods without looking up. You pour some shampoo into your hand and get to work.
His hair is tangled, like always. Worse than always, because he’s been materialized this entire time, and he hasn’t brushed it at all. You forget about washing his hair for a second in favor of detangling it, and Tomura slumps back against you. “You’re still doing that now that I’m here all the time? I thought you’d stop.”
“Do you want me to stop?”
“No,” Tomura says quickly. You return your attention to the knot you’re working through. “I thought it was just because I was a ghost.”
Huh. “What other things do you think I was only doing because you were a ghost?”
The answer, it turns out, is a lot of things. If Tomura had asked any of the other ghosts about them, he wouldn’t have had to worry, but they probably would have told him not to be stupid, which is probably why he didn’t ask. No wonder he was upset when you got back, if he thought he was losing so many things – sleeping on top of you, sitting on your lap, having his hair played with, being held. He names gesture after gesture as you untangle his hair, and you reassure him about each one.
Once you’ve worked through all the knots, you move on to washing Tomura’s hair in earnest. You don’t think you’re doing a very good job, but when your fingers slow their progress, Tomura complains in a voice that sounds distinctly sleepy. “Don’t. It’s nice.”
You add conditioner, too. Tomura probably won’t bother with it in the future, but you might as well give him soft hair while you can get away with it. Then you shake him out of relaxation and help him to his feet to wash off. He’s sort of floppy when he’s tired, and although you can already tell that it’ll annoy you sometimes, right now it’s just cute. There’s no way you’re telling him he’s cute. You hand him a sponge and some soap and put him in charge of washing his front. You’ll take care of his back.
The fight left Tomura beaten up all over, but his back took a lot of damage while he was caught between the living world and the world between, and it’s where the majority of his stitches are. Even looking at them upsets you. You can’t help but think that if you’d been faster to get to him, if you’d been stronger, if you’d called the others to help you instead of waiting for them to come on their own, he wouldn’t have spent so long trapped between worlds. He wouldn’t have been hurt like this. But that’s only the last set of mistakes you made. If you’d killed his conjurer like you meant to, he’d still be a ghost, and there’d be no marks on him at all.
“Hey.” Tomura glances over his shoulder at you, and you realize that your hands have gone still. You duck closer, hiding your face, and go back to washing, but Tomura’s not fooled. You keep forgetting, somehow, that he knows you as well as you know him. “Don’t make that face. You’re just a human. What were you supposed to do?”
“Kill him.” Your voice wavers. “So you could be human because you wanted to. Not because you didn’t have a choice.”
“Don’t be stupid,” Tomura says. He turns to face you, and when you don’t look up, his hand rises to hold your jaw and tilt it upward. “If I was just doing it to avoid going back, it wouldn’t have worked. I wanted to be like this.”
You know that, but – “I wish I hadn’t let you get hurt.”
“Yeah, and I wish I hadn’t let my conjurer torture you.” Tomura gives you a few seconds of protesting that characterization of events before he springs his trap. “See how dumb it sounds when I say it? It sounds dumber from you, since you’re the human and it wasn’t even your job. You told me the stupid plan the others had. You were never supposed to do it.”
He pauses for a moment. “I guess it would have worked if I’d been materialized, though. Dabi saw you stab him. He said it was kind of hot.”
Your mind goes sort of blank at the sheer weirdness of that statement. “And he’s still alive because?”
“I can kill him whenever I want to,” Tomura says. He turns away again, and you go back to washing off the unstitched parts of his skin, shaking your head in bemusement. “I bet it was really hot.”
Tomura thinks the fact that you ran his conjurer through with a fire poker is hot. That’s probably a good thing, because you’re not sorry you did it. You rest your forehead against the back of his neck for a second, resisting the urge to kiss him, and note that his pale skin is turning pink and flushed from the water. The water’s not that warm. You should probably get him out of here sooner rather than later. Inko warned you that newly embodied ghosts aren’t aware of the physical sensations that proceed things like throwing up or passing out, and you’d really prefer for Tomura not to faint in here.
Tomura complains about having to get out, but you remind him that showering is something humans have to do regularly and shoo him out anyway. You stay in a little longer to wash up, then step out into a mildly steamy bathroom. For a moment you’re cast back into the memory of the first time you saw Tomura face to face – in this bathroom, outlined by the steam, looking you up and down with a smile you couldn’t identify as creepy or not. Thinking about it now, you know it wasn’t creepy. He was proud of himself for figuring out how to make himself visible, proud that you could see him at last. Standing here more than a year later, it’s hard to believe how much has changed.
There are puddles of water down the hall on the way to the bedroom, evidence that while Tomura’s figured out showering, he hasn’t figured out drying off. When you step into your room, you find more evidence in the form of a pile of wet clothes discarded on the ground. Jin’s mom said that the ghosts have to learn by experience sometimes. You glance towards the bed and find Tomura sitting on it, dressed in a pair of pink sweatpants of unknown provenance and – “Um, is that my shirt?”
“Yeah.” Tomura gives you that dumbest-person-ever look. You’re not thrilled to see that it’s survived his embodiment. “It was right there. It fits.”
You buy your pajama shirts almost comically oversized, and Tomura’s not all that much taller than you. Something that’s huge on you is still pretty big on him. It fits, but it’s the principle of the thing. “Didn’t the others give you clothes?”
“Yeah. They didn’t smell right.” Tomura pulls the collar of the shirt up over his nose and mouth and breathes in. “This one smells like you.”
You were never into stealing your boyfriend’s hoodies, back when you had human boyfriends. You don’t love wearing other people’s clothes. But apparently there has to be at least one clothing thief in every relationship, and Tomura’s taken over the role. Tomura yawns so widely that his jaw pops, then recoils. “What was that? Why did I do that?”
“That’s a yawn. You’re tired.” You were thinking about street clothes, but just like you did the last time you and Tomura were in this room together, you opt for pajamas instead. “I could go for a nap, too.”
You climb into bed on your usual side, leaving the door cracked open for Phantom in case she comes up, and Tomura gets awkwardly into bed on the other side. “How do I do it?”
“Do what?”
“Sleep.”
Right – he’s spent the last week either in an induced coma or heavily sedated. He hasn’t had the chance yet to fall asleep naturally. “Get comfortable,” you say, and Tomura, semi-predictably, abandons his side of the bed in favor of getting in your personal space. “Now close your eyes. You’re tired, so I bet your eyelids feel kind of heavy, right? Let them close. Think about stuff if you want to think about it, or don’t think about anything. It’ll happen on its own.”
“That sounds too easy,” Tomura mumbles, half-asleep already. “Sometimes it takes you forever.”
“Sometimes it’s harder than others,” you admit. “It’s pretty easy right now. Just relax.”
Tomura mumbles something else, but you can feel the tension leaving his body, until he’s relaxed save for the icy thread of ghostly power running through him. It’s faint, but you have the sense that that’s illusory, at least a little bit. Tomura might be permanently embodied now, but he’s the most powerful of the embodied ghosts, and probably still the least human. He can’t dematerialize anymore and he needs to eat and sleep, but it feels likely that the effect of his powers on your daily life won’t change too much.
But you can figure that out later. Right now he’s asleep next to you, his red eyes closed, his lips parted slightly, warm and breathing and undeniably alive. The same kind of alive as you are, finally. For good.
You shift a little closer to him, and his arm wraps around you tightly. That’s fine with you. You close your eyes and fall asleep almost as fast as he did.
When you wake up, it’s to the sound of your phone buzzing, startling you out of a nightmare. You have all kinds of material for nightmares now, and your subconscious has been mixing and matching it in increasingly horrible combinations for the last few nights – or afternoons, since you can tell by the light coming through the window that sunset is a ways off. You reach for your phone, desperate for a distraction, and Tomura’s arms tighten around you. He sounds like he’s mostly asleep when he speaks. “No.”
“I’m not leaving,” you say. You get ahold of your phone and flip it to silent before reading the texts. They’re from Shinsou.
Shinsou: are u guys coming or not
Shinsou: everybody else is
Shinsou: Eri says you have to or she’ll cry
Shinsou: she says Tomura promised
She mentioned something about that earlier. You shake Tomura’s shoulder. “Did you promise Eri you’d come to the party?”
“No.” There’s a pause. “She wouldn’t leave until I said yes.”
Great. “How much do you care about making her cry?”
“I don’t care,” Tomura mumbles. You wait. “She backed me up in the fight. I owe her.”
“So we have to go,” you realize. The idea is less upsetting to you now than it was when you first heard about it, namely because you just had a nightmare and you don’t want to go back to bed. You text Shinsou back. Your dad said it’s a costume party. Do we have to have costumes?
Yeah. Shinsou sends a shrugging emoji. Not serious ones. One of my dads is going all out and the other one just has cat ears on.
Aizawa can get away with just cat ears – he’s the one hosting the party. You and Tomura are going to have to come up with something a little better. Shinsou texts again. It starts in an hour. Be there. You really don’t want Eri to cry.
You’d feel really bad making Eri cry, especially now that you remember her helping Tomura during the fight – and saving your life just beforehand. You start to sit up, and Tomura drags you back down. “No. I like sleeping. I want to sleep.”
“Humans sleep every night,” you remind him. “You can go back to sleep later. Right now we have to go to a party.”
It takes a while to drag Tomura out of bed – twenty minutes at least, leaving you with forty minutes to come up with some kind of costume. You get in your own way a little bit when you realize how cute Tomura looks with bedhead, then order yourself to pull it together. Tomura can’t shadow you as closely as he did when he could dematerialize, but he still gives it his best shot, and you two end up colliding and tripping on each other – and on Phantom – way more than is actually necessary. After ransacking your house for costume ideas and coming up with nothing, you finally turn to Google for help.
Tomura reads over your shoulder. “These are dumb. I thought Halloween was supposed to be scary.”
“It is,” you say. You decide to get into the part of Halloween that’s supposed to be sexy later – later, as in next year. Or never. “This is the wrong neighborhood for scary, though. No matter what I dress up as, I won’t be scarier than everybody else who lives here.”
And that’s when it clicks for you, oddly enough – it clicks, and you can’t help but laugh. The perfect low-effort Halloween costume. How did you not think of it before? Tomura eyes you suspiciously. “Why are you laughing?”
“I have an idea. It might get us kicked out.”
“If we get kicked out, we can come back and go to sleep again,” Tomura says. Introducing Tomura to the concept of naptime may have been a mistake. “What is it?”
You head for the stairs, and the linen closet. “You’ll see.”
It takes you approximately two seconds to assemble the first costume, and once you do, you show Tomura. It occurs to you way too late that he might think it’s offensive. But once he realizes what you are, he cracks up laughing – then wincing, as the laughter strains the stitches on his back. “They’re going to hate it,” he says. “I bet they won’t even let us in.”
“If they don’t let us in, then we get to go home right away.” You gesture at the linen closet. “Pick your poison.”
It takes you a few more minutes to leave, mostly because Tomura insists on bringing Phantom, and Phantom needs a costume, too. She’s a lot less into her costume than you and Tomura are. She keeps wiggling out of it, and while Tomura tries to lure her back under the sheet, you peer out the front window. The street still looks like hell. Everybody’s houses are still at least partially wrecked. If you drove past this neighborhood, not knowing anything about who lives here and why this happened, you’d avoid it like the plague.
You watch as Keigo and Dabi and Natsu leave their house. Natsu looks like he’s wearing normal clothes, but Keigo has a fake halo and Dabi has a pair of devil horns on. It occurs to you that Dabi might be the only other person in the neighborhood who thinks your costume is funny.
“I got her to wear it,” Tomura says, and you turn to look. There’s Phantom, wearing a flower-patterned pillowcase with holes cut out for her ears, eyes, and nose – and there’s Tomura, wearing a grey sheet over her head with holes cut out so he can see. “I think she’s mad at me.”
“She’s not mad,” you say. You’re pretty sure she’ll forgive you both when she realizes you’re headed over to Aizawa’s house. Shinsou is probably her favorite person other than Tomura. “You look pretty.”
Tomura gives you a once-over. Your sheet is lavender, and you accessorized with a pair of reading glasses you accidentally stole from Mr. Yagi’s office and never gave back. “Cute,” he decides. “The sooner they kick us out, the sooner we can come back.”
He heads for the door, opens it, and steps outside. You gather up Phantom’s leash and follow him onto the porch. When you turn to lock the door, Tomura stops you. His eyes crinkle at the corners, the way they do when he’s smiling creepily on purpose. “Don’t bother,” he says. “This neighborhood is still mine.”
“I’ll take your word for it.” You tuck your keys back into your pocket and make your way down the front steps, to the front gate, and out onto the sidewalk. It’s not until you hear the gate’s hinges creak open again that you realize Tomura hasn’t followed you. You turn back. “Tomura?”
Tomura’s hesitating on the far side of the property line. You can’t figure out why. He’s left before. He was away from the house for five days – but not by choice. The ambulance took him away and the other ghosts brought him back, but in all the time since he was summoned, Tomura’s never left the property of his own free will. You hold out the hand that isn’t grasping Phantom’s leash, and he comes closer to take it. His hand is warm.
Warm, and a little sweaty. He’s nervous. “We don’t have to go to this thing,” you tell him. “You just got home today. It’s a lot. If you’d rather stay home, we can.”
“You want to go.”
“I think it might be fun.” Mostly you want to see what Hizashi does when you roll up to his party dressed like the world’s most stereotypical, low-budget ghost. “But I still like it’s best when it’s just us. If you don’t want to go, we won’t. I’m not leaving you.”
“Because you love me,” Tomura says, almost hesitantly. You nod. “I love you, too.”
It’s a good thing you’ve got the sheet on. You’re not sure you want Tomura to see the goofy smile you’re wearing. Tomura raises his free hand and touches your mouth through the sheet, feeling along the curve of it until you dare to kiss the tips of his fingers. He startles, and you remember the touch sensitivity. It’s fine when he’s the one initiating contact, since he’s the one who decides what he can handle, but you need to be careful. “Sorry.”
“Don’t be stupid,” Tomura says. He kisses you.
It’s not a great kiss, given that there are two layers of cotton between your mouth and his, but you’ll take it. You’ve always been willing to take what you can get from Tomura, and you’ve gotten more than you ever expected. It came at a price, sure. You’ll be paying that price in one way and another for the rest of your life, but it’s worth it. It would be worth it if Tomura never crossed the property line again.
But Tomura draws away from you without letting go of your hand and steps forward. You step back to give him space, and watch as he sets one foot over the line and onto the sidewalk, and then the other. And all at once, for the first time in a hundred and ten years, there’s nothing wrong with your house at all.
The End
#lovhalloweenhorror#shigaraki tomura x reader#tomura shigaraki x reader#shigaraki x reader#shigaraki x you#x reader#reader insert#shigaraki tomura#ghost story#loser nerd ghost boyfriend
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Can I Stay? (A Baekhyun Story) Part 9.
Pairing: You x Baekhyun
Rating: M
Word Count: 6.1K
Warnings: Light angst. A romance between two adults with an unspecified age difference between them, an English story that uses the word Noona for lack of another word in English that carries the same feeling, if you don’t like this, then don’t read this story.
Author‘s note: remember all those years ago I said I’d write a Baekhyun x Noona fic? This is that fic.
Inspired by the Ray LaMontagne songs Can I Stay
Tag List: @andimoon @his-mochi-cheeks
Links: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10
Work was different.
After the cosmic shitshow of a Saturday had passed and it seemed like everyone had lived to see another week. Your Monday morning workday was back to normal.
But it was so unbelievably outside of anything normal you had ever experienced. There was so much that had changed in such a short amount of time.
You’d woken up very early that morning — you did not have an exact hour to call it but you knew you’d caught brief glimpses of the dim light of a freshly rising sun through your window. You’d only caught small bits of that particular shade of dawn with your sleepy eyes and your otherwise-occupied mind registered even less through the soft moans, indulgent touches, and wordless love-making that started your day.
Baekhyun had to leave quite early to go home and get changed for work; all the while lamenting on the distance and even going so far as threatening to sell his apartment and buy something in the fancy new high rise that had just gone up across the street from your building. Or better yet (his words), he could just move in with you and never have to wake up without you in his bed ever again.
You had to gently remind him that all of that talk sounded pretty abrupt and dramatic for a three-day old relationship and his face worked through a variety of emotions before finally settling into a deep pout that would not leave his face even after your many assurances that no, you weren’t planning breaking up with him, and yes, you really did love him even more than he loved you —which in itself involved much back and forth until you both just agreed to disagree.
So work today, it was back to normal but normal seemed to have a brand new definition. You were busy but not too busy. You were floating through your tasks with the ease that came along with the familiarity of it all, all the while doing your absolute best not to just sit and watch him all day long.
It was actually quite difficult — keeping that look out of your eyes whenever he was around you. That look that a woman gets when she looks at the man who had pressed her back into a mattress for hours the night before.
You had to make an effort. Your eyes were so easily and naturally drawn to his face; your ears to his laughs; your smile to his smile; your goosebumps to his secret touches; your hushed giggles to his close whispers.
He’d watched your face too closely and much too knowingly when you declared in your best manager's voice that the blinds to your office would stay open all day long without exception and he was expected to remain out of touching distance from you whenever he was in here.
His whispered ‘Yes ma’am’ did not inspire any confidence at all. In fact hearing that triggered something in you that made everything worse.
You wondered when this powerful spell would wear off enough for you both to be able to act like normal functioning adults with full-time jobs around each other. You figured the close proximity wasn’t doing either of you any favors but you still couldn't stand the thought of sending him away so you could get some actual work done.
It was just before lunchtime when the first real close call happened. A mere 3.5 days into this brand new relationship and already — already.
Yes, it was your fault. In fact, Baekhyun had been the better behaved of the two of you. It was probably because it had just been so long since you’ve felt this feeling. It had been so very long since you’d had someone to love and genuinely felt loved by someone that you had simply lost your mind a little bit.
Baekhyun had been hovering near your desk holding your schedule calendar in his hands as he flipped through, reading an occasional line from the upcoming week. You had a few meetings, most that he read out loud, one that he mumbled his way through that would be coming up later today. You only half listened as you watched him speaking from down in your desk chair. You’d pulled the lever below your seat and leaned way back in the chair, looking up at him as he spoke and he took occasional glances down over the top of the book he held up covering part of his face. You could see only from his cute nose upward but every now and then his hands would drop the book just a little and his pink pouty mouth would appear as he emphasized some word he was saying for importance. Every time those lips pursed outward it reminded you of kissing him. When his lips parted you caught the occasional tip of his soft tongue.
You weren’t really listening. He was very pretty when he spoke. You liked the sound of his voice and the way his lips moved when he said the word ‘Noona.’ Which for some reason he was saying again.
‘Noona.’
‘Noona?’
‘Noona!’
Oh shit, he was talking to you.
“You aren’t listening at all,” your brain sharpened to the words. “I’ve been talking for ten minutes. Did you hear anything I just said? The final reports, the wrap party venue, the one-two-three meetings after lunch? Hello?”
He was right. The very mild frustration you heard in his voice was adorable. You pulled your lips into a frown because you were very sorry, even if you weren't that sorry you knew you were acting up right now. This was just so very hard. Maybe it was because you were very sore all over and actually quite sleep deprived from the three (!) times he woke you up last night.
“Sorry, Baby, my mind was wandering,” you confessed easily, hearing the dreaminess in your own voice as you said it. And you heard the long and slow sigh that came from his chest. He was closing his eyes up and he was steadying himself before he spoke.
“I’m not going to ask…not going to ask,” he said to himself a few times and he held the calendar closed with one hand, a slim finger stuck In between the pages to mark his place and he lifted his other hand to pinch the bridge of his nose.
“I’m not going to ask. I don't want to know. Do you hear what I said? I said, I do not want to know what you were thinking about. Do not tell me. I am not asking.” His eyes were wider now and you could make out a bit of desperation in his voice.
You lifted your foot, pointing the tips of your toes and you lightly traced the outline of his thigh.
“Gonna get caught. The blinds are open. Put your foot down.” He was speaking under his breath and you felt his hand come down and push your foot away when you’d slipped your foot around the front of his hips. Despite the admonishing words, you could very clearly see the smile at the edges of his lips and you could hear the playfulness in his tone. You giggled when another pass of your foot around the back of him, poking his butt earned you a harder slap and he took the smallest step away from you.
“Noona.” He hissed through gritted teeth, doing his best impression of a very serious man who meant business and you spun around in your chair laughing harder at the sound of him.
The spin was harder than you meant and it made your chair hit your desk. A small metal cup you kept full of pens that was on the edge of your desk went flying and you turned back around to see them go. They landed across the space behind where Baekhyun was standing.
You looked down at the mess on your floor and Baekhyun also turned to look down at the mess on your floor.
His eyes were just kind of wild looking when he turned back to look into your face and you looked at his face with what you imagined was a similar expression.
Neither of you moved right away and your mind whirled with the best way to clean this mess up. Did you risk the closeness and clean it up together? Did you get up and do it yourself, knowing that he would likely join you on this floor behind the couch, behind the desk, behind the view of those open mini blinds? Did you just watch him do it? You did really like the way his butt looked in his business slacks…
“Did you do this on purpose?” He whispered the question harshly and it didn’t sound like he was joking, but you felt the laughter rise up in your chest at his accusation.
“No, Baekhyun, I didn’t, I swear.” You were laughing while you said it and that didn’t do anything for your credibility. It was true. You really did not. But you sounded so guilty.
“Did you do this so I have to bend over in front of you and pick them up?” His smile on his face as he asked this follow up question was widening and you placed a hand on your stomach to try and stop your own laughter.
You stood up from the chair.
“I’ll get them.” You raised a hand and his own hands waved you away dramatically.
“No.” He said flatly, putting the calendar down on your desk. “No, no. I’m the one sleeping my way to the top. I should get the full sexual harassment experience. Do you want me to pick them up one by one so it lasts longer? Do you want me to struggle while I do it — act like they’re really hard to pick up?”
You felt at a loss. You were laughing too hard to be of any use in this conversation and he was grunting noisily as he bent at the waist and picked up the first pen.
“Ohh..Miss Manager, it’s so heavy,” he mewled suggestively and he placed the pen sideways in-between his teeth as he stood up slowly, arching his back seductively as he did it.
His voice changed and lifted into something more naive sounding, “Miss Manager, you said I could have a promotion if I did this, right?”
You caught a movement out of the corner of your eye that snatched your attention, your laughter, and your breath at the same time.
You heard someone clear their throat at the same time as a knock sounded out on your door. Your door had been opened just in time for his last sentence to have been heard by whoever was at your door.
“Assistant Byun,” you said flatly with a very serious tone taking you over. The change was so abrupt that Baekhyun straightened his spine and spun on his heels, quickly dropping the second pen from his mouth and dropping the other two he had already picked up. They landed on the floor at his feet adding back to the mess.
Your heart had dropped down into your stomach and all traces of your earlier laughter had stopped dead and you stood up straighter, running your hand down over the front of your blouse and smoothing out your skirt just in case anything has been out of place to make this situation look worse than it already did.
“Sorry, I was joking,” he said with his voice back to as normal and as professional and flat sounding as possible. “Bad joke, my apologies.” he added quietly with his head hung down in shame directed at you but only for the benefit of whoever it was that had just come in.
At your door, doing an awkward little glance back and forth between your face and your assistant standing with his chin pressed down into his chest was Sandi, one of your junior translators whose desk was just outside of your office. If she had any thoughts about what she had just walked in on, she didn’t seem to dwell for long on them.
“Manager, Sophie’s 1st is here for you. Should I let him in?”
Baekhyun’s head had lifted and you caught the drift of Sandi’s eyes as they touched on his face and she had a sweet smile on her lips directed at him.
“Hi Baekhyun,” she whispered lightly and his hand lifted with the smallest wave with a pretty smile before he was spinning quickly to squat down on the floor to quickly gather all of the pens.
He made quick work of the mess and Sandi was really standing at your doorway for much longer than necessary you thought briefly before your quiet appraisal of the danger of the situation you both had stupidly put yourselves into, well not both, this had been entirely your fault. You really had lost your entire mind. Your blinds had been open and you always emphasized your open door policy with your team. They only ever knocked when you had the blinds closed and even then you’d never minded their interruptions before.
“Manager?” Sandi’s quiet voice interjected and when you pulled your eyes away from the slim fingers that carefully arranged the pens neatly inside the metal cup that was sat once again on your desk where it belonged to look back up into her questioning face.
“Do I let him in?” She asked again.
“Assistant Byun, do I have a meeting with Chet right now?” You leaned and whispered to your assistant from a completely appropriate distance for a strictly professional relationship and Baekhyun straightened his posture, straightened his suit jacket, his tie, and adjusted the lanyard with the ID badge around his neck so it hung just so.
“Yes ma’am. I mentioned it when I was going over your schedule.” There was an edge to his voice as he said it. You felt weirdly blindsided. You grabbed for the schedule and flipped to today’s entry, finding a single four letter c-word that did not say Chet written in carefully penned tiny capital letters. Right there in his handwriting it sat.
‘CUNT-11a’
“You can let him in,” you called out to Sandi and when you looked up at the girl she had a weirdly familiar dreamy lost look in her eyes as she looked at your (boyfriend) assistant. It took her a few moments to register your words and she left your doorway with a nod of her head and another small wave in Baekhyun’s direction which he, again, returned with a sweet smile.
Your mood felt off.
Now Chet was here and Baekhyun had so much female attention in this office the man probably couldn’t go five steps without running into an admirer. Now you had to deal with Chet, the misogynistic hugger and why was he even here? You half hoped he would try and ask you out again just so you could once and for all burst that hopeful bubble of his, tell him it wasn’t going to happen now or ever so he should just give up and set his sights on some poor other girl in this office.
Not that there was anyone here who deserved that kind of attention.
You settled yourself down well behind your desk seated deep in your office chair and you noticed instead of his usual seat for these meetings at the far corner of your office where he wouldn’t be an interference of a distraction, Baekhyun parked himself just at the side of your desk, leaning a hip against the window sill that stuck out just enough for you to hit your elbow on it whenever you got up too carelessly.
Standing there, very much in between you and whoever might want to get back here with you for a hug — he felt like a bouncer to some exclusive night club.
Chet came in a few moments later with all of the charisma of a used car salesman trying to unload a lemon on some poor sucker and walked up to the edge of your desk with a wide smile on his face and his hands outstretched, clearly expecting you to come around for the usual hug. You didn’t stand and you didn’t move anything but your mouth to speak.
“Chet, what can I help you with today?”
His hands hung in the air and his smile faded just a little before it widened again, this time not reaching his flighty eyes. The man was clearly taken aback and he stood there for a while just watching your face with that same fake smile on his lips. After a while you saw his focus shift over to Baekhyun before you had his attention again. He did it a few times and you stared into his face as you waited for him to come to terms with whatever he was coming to terms with. It took a while. He was looking between you and your assistant who was, it seemed, carefully examining the leaf of the fake tree that stood by your window.
“Ahh, you never returned my call. Did you get my message about the uhh—final edits?” His confidence sounded a touch rattled, which you had never before heard from him.
You furrowed your brows and pouted your lips. Genuinely curious now. You hadn’t heard of any new messages from him. You had been rather distracted all day though, perhaps your flawless record at work had finally been shot by your own silliness all morning.
You were genuinely thinking now.
Message? What message? Did you miss a work message from Chet? You looked at your computer screen and found nothing unread in your inbox and your latest direct message chain with him was from a week ago. Nothing unread between the two. You looked across your desk at the beefcake and lifted your chin in the direction of your suspiciously quiet assistant while keeping your eyes on the man standing in your office.
“Assistant Byun, did I get a message from Chet?”
Baekhyun didn’t answer right away and you noticed that Chet’s focus looked just a little more frazzled than it had when he first walked in. He looked like his edges were just a little hazy. Like he was beginning to show some signs of annoyance with you, or with Baekhyun or maybe with the pair of you. The longer your assistant stood silent the more Chet’s patience seemed to be wearing out and after a few moments of it he looked to be openly glaring in the direction of where that fake tree stood by your window.
“Umm,” it took him too long to finally respond and when you did look, Baekhyun was posed with an index finger pointed up to his chin; on his face a look of confusion. “I don’t—think there was anything from Chet.” He was shaking his head in response.
“I left it with you.” Chet spoke up suddenly, directing his voice at Baekhyun without his any hint of his usual pep. You heard some attitude and a challenge now.
Baekhyun still wore that same exaggerated look of confusion and his head was shaking back and forth with his eyebrows raised. With what you knew about Baekhyun you were nearly positive this was intentional. He knew exactly what Chet was talking about and he was playing a game.
“It was just this morning.” Chet added in a downright hostile tone and you heard a sudden gasp from beside the tree. Inside of your stomach, a bad feeling was brewing. It felt a lot like whatever this was would not end here with this quick and unexpected meeting in your office.
Baekhyun’s mouth was open now. Sudden remembrance. He was snapping his fingers and making a big show of it.
You had to bite down on your tongue to keep from making any sounds.
“Actually, you know what? I think I do remember something, but Noona it was,” he lifted his fingers in front of your face, holding his index and his thumb about a centimeter apart from each other, “very small.”
He whispered the last two words and his lips pulled into a dramatic frown and he shook his head back and forth. You covered your mouth with your open hand and you held your breath, dipping your face so it was hiding behind your computer screen.
“What did you just say?” Chet asked humorlessly. Clearly he got the joke and took its intended offense. “Do you have a problem man?”
Baekhyun’s hand was on his chest and on his face was a look of exaggerated pity. He ignored the second question.
“Happens to a lot of guys, bro,” Baekhyun whispered and he frowned his face again.
It took you a moment to compose yourself enough to remove your hand from over your lips. You recognized that you had to intervene before this grew any more out of hand than it had already grown. You should not be encouraging this. It was childish and juvenile of a joke and your hidden laughter was only encouraging Baekhyun to act this way.
Baekhyun took a few steps closer to where you sat, coming into the space right beside and you very much behind your desk. He was obviously in the exclusive club that Chet had no admittance to.
He pointed to the notepad you kept beside your phone and in the very bottom corner, written with the finest point pen and in what had to be nearly microscopic handwriting was a just barely legible, ‘Sophie needs FE approved -Chet.’
You looked down at the note, lifting your attention to the big burly man standing with a face full of annoyance and his arms crossed over his chest and you had to look back down again at the note.
You swear you didn’t do it on purpose but the second you felt your vision strain over the tiny letters and you had to pull your eyes into a genuine squint, you heard a not very well concealed snort of laughter beside you.
He coughed into it but it was not at all subtle.
“Ahh, I see now. Yes. I’ll get that to you within the hour. And Chet, honey?” you let your face pull into one of sympathy. “You didn’t have to come down for that.”
He cleared his throat and you heard the beginnings of some sort of rebuttal.
“You’ll get it when you get it, Chet.” You raised your voice as you dropped the smile.
He absolutely didn't need to be here for this. You absolutely would get it done and send it over quickly and you felt extremely done with looking at the man now.
“Within the hour. Sophie’s been up my ass about this,” he said with a scowl on his face. His eyes touched on yours but every other breath had them bouncing over to your assistant’s face. He lifted a hand and pointed a finger in your direction, it felt a little bit like a threat. The action felt unlike anything he’d ever done to you and you watched his face with the most stone faced expression you could manage. His true colors had shown themselves and they were hideous. You wanted nothing more to do with him than you absolutely had to.
“You take care, Chet.” You refused to be bullied by this guy. He was at least three pay grades below you and it was pretty telling how little he respected you with the drastic drop in basic decently the second it became clear that he had no chance of sleeping with you.
A few moments after he had left and the quiet settled over your office you signed the final approvals and sent them over to Sophie’s office.
“Baekhyun?” You called out sweetly toward the man who was typing something out on his phone.
“Didn’t we agree not to mess around when it came to work?” You didn't want to scold him. You really didn’t. But you had both promised each other that the work was so important to the both of you that there would be no silly games.
You had his attention. He had let the phone sag in his lap and he was looking across the office at your face without any immediate answer for you. After a moment his eyes dropped another foot and he was staring ahead of himself without focus.
“I don't want you meeting him,” he said after a moment. His eyes lifted back up into yours and his face ticked back and forth a minimal amount. “I don't like you meeting him.”
“Sometimes I have to meet him,” you said with a sigh. You didn't like it either but at least for the next few days until the wrap, you really did not have any choice.
“Noona,” he began and you watched his face as he inhaled a small breath to speak and let his lips hang open without continuing his words. His lips closed back up again and he shook his head.
“Nothing,” he said softly and he pulled his eyes away from yours as he looked back down at his phone.
“Say it, Baek.”
You definitely didn’t want him to feel like he couldn't speak his peace.
“Nah, it’s stupid.” He said and he was scrolling on his screen. You could see the agitation rolling off his shoulders. You could tell something was up.
“Just tell me though, what is it?” You could be as stubborn as he could be and after a while he stood up with a defeated sigh carrying his phone in his hand, he walked up to your desk and sat it down with the screen up.
On his screen you saw your instagram profile, which you hadn’t even known he knew about, and he had the tab opened with your likes. You saw with your own eye the tiny heart you’d placed on a picture there. It was something Chet had posted, and you had no memory of having done this. The picture that you had hearted was just of some sunset he must have posted. Something innocuous and unconcerning but it clearly had bothered your boyfriend enough for him to be pointing it out to you right now. You did remember scrolling mindlessly before you got ready for work this morning. Could that have been when you’d done this?
“I don't like you meeting him. I don't like you liking his pictures. Especially not pictures he posted this morning, after I left your bed.”
You didn’t remember doing it. You looked down at the evidence and it was right there.
“I’ll block him,” you said quietly. “I didn't even know that was his picture, but that doesn’t matter because it’s obvious that I did that and I am sorry. It definitely won't happen again.”
Baekhyun was watching your face and you quietly pulled your own phone out, opened up the app and did just as you told him you would. You’d meant to block Chet after the mop-water incident but it honestly had just slipped your mind. So much had happened since then, your mind had been a bit of a mess. You just forgot and here you’d accidentally hurt Baekhyun’s feelings because of your carelessness.
He was swallowing and he blinked his eyes slowly as he looked away for a second.
“Now I feel like an asshole,” he said under his breath.
You pushed your lips into a small pout and his eyes glanced down at your face, lightly sniffing his nose once before he looked around again.
“It’s done,” you held your phone up and waved it at him with a smile. He groaned and closed his eyes up.
“Don't encourage me, Noona. I know you didn’t mean anything by it. I told you it was stupid.”
“I was going to block him anyway, I just forgot to because I was distracted by my sexy boyfriend.” His mood still seemed a little down but maybe after a few compliments and perhaps some lunch he would smooth out a little.
It turns out Baekhyun had plans for lunch. He did often share a meal with a few of his fellow assistants and today it seemed like the day. The plans had been in place for a while now. He also reminded you that he had already told you about it, at least twice today, back when you had lost your mind.
It was fine. You could use the quiet for an hour. You had your headphones and you could even take a walk around the block to help your food digest. You assured him that you were a big girl and you could handle a few solo lunches. You’d had plenty of them before he arrived, and you’d been just fine.
And you were. You went for your stroll, you listened to some music and you ate something tasty from a shop around the corner. You drank too much water during your walk and when you came back you had to make a stop at the bathroom. It was perfect because you could refresh your lipstick and make sure you didn't look too much of a mess after venturing outdoors.
As expected, your hair was a bit messy but nothing a few fingers run through it couldn't fix. Your outfit was cute though and you slipped into the stall to empty your bladder.
After a few moments you heard the telltale sounds of office gossip; a group of girls whose voices felt oddly familiar to you came in giggling about the latest news.
Apparently someone was eating lunch with one of their friends. Someone who was ‘so hot’ and ‘single’ and ‘rich’ and looked ‘so good in the blonde hairstyle.’ Your ears sharpened to the words they were saying immediately. You also lifted your feet just in case they checked under the stall for spies. You weren't born yesterday, you knew the best gossip was obtained through illicit means.
It took you no time at all to understand the subject of their gossip. You felt a strange chill run through your chest.
He was eating lunch alone with her. Was it really only one other assistant? Not a group of friends but him and her alone? She was a young pretty thing and they made such a cute couple. Apparently they had been spotted giggling together. Flirting together, as he was often seen doing with lots of girls. You hadn’t really noticed his overly friendly behavior with the girls but the memory of the lovesick smiles Sandi sent toward him today pinged against your heart. Of course he flirted with you but the idea that this might not be strictly reserved for you made your heart clench. It couldn’t be true. It had to be nothing.
The conversation drifted naturally when one girl spoke your name out. You held your breath for the quick dismissals. No way. You were too old, there’s no way he’s into an older woman. The other quiet voice that defended you, called you smart and pretty enough for someone like him, had even seen some moments between the two of you that would raise a few eyebrows, that one quiet voice was quickly drowned out by the naysayers. If anything it was one sided. If anything it was pathetic for you to even hope. If anything you should know your place.
You’d heard enough and wanted no more of it. You hoped their lunch hour was going to be over soon so you didn’t have to hear any more.
Your hopes were realized quickly enough as you quietly washed your hands and exited the bathrooms. You could not calm your mind though.
How much was true. You trusted him and you believed in him but your feet carried you in an odd direction. You walked the long way around. It would eventually take you to the elevators that led up to your floor but, goddammit, you found yourself making a detour with your curious eyes watching the tables near the company cafeteria.
You were looking for something that was nothing. Something that meant absolutely nothing. You knew it was nothing.
Baekhyun was walking side by side with a bright smile on his face and his attention drawn to her words.
You had seen her before, she was the assistant of one of the other managers. You were pretty sure she was under contract for only a few more months. Like him, she would soon be moving on to something new. Like him she was young and green and still had so much to learn. Perhaps they talked about how hard their jobs were; bonding over having to cater to a picky manager's whims.
She was giggling. She was laughing loudly and she reached a hand out and laid light fingertips on his forearm. That uncomfortable feeling inside of your chest throbbed.
This was nothing. You didn’t have to turn it into something when it was absolutely nothing. The gossip that you overheard had been baseless and it was wrong. Yes, you knew for a fact that they had been wrong about you. Because he was into you, he loved you. If they could be wrong about that, then they could have just as easily been wrong about this too.
You felt a need for an escape. You longed to hide from this. They were taking an exit path that would put you in front of them and you felt like a fool as you ducked behind a pillar just in time for them to walk by.
“Yeah, yeah definitely. I’ll call you,” he was saying to her.
“Okay, let me know. Bye, Oppa.”
Younger than him. On friendly enough terms for that sweet nickname too. And he was going to call her.
Your mind was a mess. You wandered your way through the hallways headed probably somewhere that would eventually lead you up to your office. It took longer than you intended to make it back up to your office, but still not long enough.
When you walked inside he was already seated at the spot he usually occupied when he was busy with something and didn’t want his typing to disturb you. He only kind of glanced up to look at you as you entered and his eyes were back down on the screen of his computer. He had a chat window open there. He was talking with someone.
Talking to someone about something that was probably nothing.
You were acting like a fool. This man had taken a once smart, capable, and intelligent woman and in just 3 and a half days had turned her into a fool.
You scrolled through your emails, finding a thank you message from Sophie for the quick turnaround and a waiting direct message from Chet.
You clicked on the flashing bar and the message popped up.
‘I need to speak with you, can we meet?’
You didn’t have the patience for any of it and you sighed noisily and covered your face with your hands, momentarily and genuinely forgetting that you weren’t alone in your office. Before you could take the sound back Baekhyun had walked over to your desk and had looked at the message window on your computer screen.
You stared at your computer screen, your eyes focused on that one message from Chet. You could smell him, his hair smelled like your shampoo. Baekhyun had stepped into your space and he was bent at the waist reading the message on your computer screen, the message from the man he had been butting heads with through his little message games and deprecating jokes. Out the corner of your eye you saw his hand land over your mouse, he was moving the cursor and the arrow hovered just over the X to close the window.
You lifted a hand and laid it over his just before he clicked the X to close out the window.
“I said I don’t like you meeting him.” He was staring ahead at the screen with a darkness in his eyes and his jaw was clenched down tight.
“Assistant Byun-” He physically flinched when he heard it. You felt a burning inside your stomach, “I can handle it myself.”
[To be Continued]
Links: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10
#exo#exo fanfiction#exo smut#baekhyun#exo fic#exo scenario#baekhyun smut#baekhyun fanfic#byun baekhyun
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A New Start pt. 4 (NSFW)
(part 1 | part 2 | part 3 if you haven't already read them)
Larissa Weems x fem!Reader
Warnings: smut (angst at the very beginning), NSFW, 18+, switch!Larissa, fingering, cunnilingus
A/N: I'm so sorry part 3 was so angsty, but I promise it gets better in this part. I couldn't leave it like that so I tried to be quick with part 4. This one is a bit longer, and I have written it so that I can either end it here or continue. If you want more, I’ll gladly continue! As usual I have proofread it but apologise for any mistakes. Hope you enjoy!
Word count: ~3.3k
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You had been nothing but a tense ball of too many emotions, completely unable to untangle them enough to make sense of it. You had seen Larissa in town, but she once again ignored you. You had considered calling the police, afraid he might actually have harmed her but at least she looked okay when you saw her. And what would you even tell the police? Her husband with his position and you, some new insignificant person in town. Besides, you didn't have any proof other than your own worries. You just wanted to know if she was okay. It tore you apart to think about not ever seeing her again, but you just needed to know if she was okay. You couldn’t text her, because you didn’t want her to end up in even more trouble.
You were working on another project, but this one wasn’t as big and time-consuming. You wish it was, because your thoughts wandered less if your projects were challenging enough. You had started taking some freelance work on the side, not because you needed it for the money but your mind sorely needed the distraction. Suddenly, your phone vibrated in your pocket and you froze when you saw who had texted you.
Larissa: I need to talk to you. Can you come to the spot I took you to the week after we met? By the pond? No one ever goes there. I need to see you. Please.
You: Larissa!! Of course. Of course I’ll come. When?
Larissa: Tonight at 7? I miss you, Y/N.
You: I’ll see you then. I miss you too. So, so much.
You were shocked, but it was a good kind of shock. Although, you couldn’t help thinking about all the different outcomes. Was she going to end it all with you? Was she going to suggest a new place where you could meet? You found yourself drawn to the first scenario. Thinking about that would be less hurtful if she actually did break it all off with you. But if she did, you figured you would probably have to move again. Jericho wasn’t big enough for you to avoid her, and seeing her would just be too much.
The day went by slowly and you tried your best to focus on your work. It was as if every nerve in your body was screaming, making you anxious and nervous from what was to come. You really had no idea what was going to happen, and you didn’t like it when you weren’t on top of things. You liked being in control. You liked knowing what was coming in your life so you knew how to handle it better. As soon as your workday was over you went home and went for a run on the treadmill before making dinner, just to take your mind off of her until it was time to leave.
You got in your car and closed your eyes. You tried to prepare yourself for what might come, but you just wanted to cry. You sighed and told yourself to calm down. You didn’t want the first thing Larissa saw to be you being an emotional mess. She had already been through enough with that bastard of a husband of hers, and you did not want to add more to that pile. All the way there you tried to numb your thoughts. You tried to take notice of the scenery just so you could focus on anything but her. When you saw her leaning on her car, you almost collapsed and it took every fibre, every cell in your body to seem calmer than you felt.
As soon as you got out of the car, she ran towards you and wrapped her arms around you. “Oh, Y/N. I have missed you so much. I am so, so sorry about everything.” She started crying, and you wiped her tears.
“Please don’t cry, Larissa. Please. I have missed you too, but I need to know that you’re okay. I need to know that you are doing fine. Did he harm you?” You held her face in your hands gently, looking for any signs of abuse.
“He is all words and no action. He wouldn't dare to lay a hand on me. He knows just as well as I do that this marriage has never been anything but a setup that makes him look like the perfect gentleman.” She smiled and leaned down to kiss your forehead.
“I’m just glad you’re okay, Larissa. I have been so worried. You deserve better than him, and I know you always have. You’re too good.” You hugged her just to hold her close, just to feel her near.
“Y/N… I need to tell you something, but I don’t want to do it here. I have a cabin not far from here, and I’d like you to come with me. I have everything we need there, and I have some clothes for you there. To be honest, I already bought some clothes and other things for you that I left there, hoping I would be able to take you there someday. And I figured today would be good since it’s the weekend.” She chuckled and blushed at her confession, and you laughed lightly.
“I’d love to, Larissa. And I find it so endearing that you actually keep things for me there.” You kissed her hand and brushed her cheek gently.
“I’ll lead the way and you can follow me, is that okay? I don’t want you to leave your car here. There isn’t a lot of traffic here, but you never know.” You nodded and went back to your car.
You found yourself giggling and smiling all the way to the cabin, and when you arrived you were astonished. A cabin? A cabin bigger than your house. Then again, her being as sophisticated as she was, it shouldn't even be a shock anymore.
You stepped out of the car and smiled at her “Cabin, huh? This is nicer than any house I’d even dare to dream of.” You stared at it in awe. It was a beautiful cabin, and it was as if it was made for her.
She chuckled and stroked your cheek “I had it designed and built about two years ago as a retreat for myself. I only ever go here alone, and he has never had access to it, not that it has ever been of any interest to him. This area is very special to me. I used to come here all the time as a child, daydreaming of living here. So when the land was up for sale, I bought it so that I could have a place to get away. And I also made sure to have it big enough to live here if it ever comes to that. Shall we? I’d like to give you a tour.” She smiled and grabbed your hand.
You were still in awe but gladly followed her. “It is truly beautiful, Larissa. I can tell that you took part in designing it.” As soon as you entered you found yourself even more in awe, realising you were gasping. It was the perfect balance of new and old, and you could tell that every decision was so carefully made. It was so well done, it all came together like a beautiful jigsaw puzzle.
“Okay, Y/N. Come here and sit down, please. Like I said, there is something I need to tell you.” She sat down and looked at you with a serious look on her face, making you feel like all your insides tensed up. You feared that you were right, but at least you tried to prepare yourself.
You nervously sat down and looked at her. You couldn’t read her face, and that worried you. “What is it, Larissa? If you want to break things off and this is our last time together, please tell me.” You could feel yourself well up and you tried your best to keep your composure.
She stroked your cheek and chuckled. “Y/N, darling… I have left him. I don’t care about his reputation, because my reputation and my image has always been based on him and I don’t want that anymore. I am so deeply in love with you, and I fell hard and fast. When I’m with you, I am happy, I feel so cherished, so valued. I don’t know how you feel, but I had to tell you.” Her face immediately turned serious, and she hesitantly grabbed your hand almost as if it was to calm herself.
You welled up again, but this time it was for an entirely different reason. You were shocked, but it felt like a cocoon of butterflies gently opened in your stomach. “Larissa, I am stunned, but I feel the same way about you and I never thought I would. When I’m with you, everything else becomes so insignificant. Nothing else matters when I am near you, and I do cherish you. I fell for you the first time I laid my eyes on you. You make me so happy. And we will of course take things slowly if you need that.” You leaned forward to give her a gentle kiss and gave her a hug.
She took your hands in hers and looked into your eyes. “I have already wasted too much time, Y/N. I have wasted time I should have spent with you. Like I said, I have kept this place because I knew the time could come where I would move out. And there is nothing that would please me more than if you would live here with me. You don’t have to move in yet, if you’re not ready. My things will arrive next week and I have already packed everything. I can’t wait to start my next chapter, and little did I know that you would be my next chapter.” Her eyes teared up, and you gave her a reassuring smile.
“Yes, Larissa! I would love that. I don’t care if it’s too soon. If it had been up to me, we would have spent every day together already. And you’re right. We have wasted too much time.” You wrapped your arm around her and you let out a content hum, her head on your shoulder and your other hand carefully caressing hers.
You just sat there in silence, completely captivated by each other. You didn’t have to say anything, because it was so clear how you both felt. You truly never thought you would feel this way about another person, with an intense neverending infatuation that just grew stronger. So fascinated by her knowledge on things, her sophistication and her passion for things that were important to her. You found yourself so fascinated about her entire being, so in love with who she was and the things you constantly learned about her. And you could not wait to learn more.
Suddenly, she chuckled and sat up looking at you “Y/N, I don’t know about you, but I am actually starving. I would love to sit here with you for the rest of the day, but I fear our feelings for each other won’t fulfil our inevitable hunger. I’ll make us something to eat.” She smiled and got up from the sofa.
You followed her to the kitchen and watched as she cooked. You tried to help, but she just smiled and shook her head. “Your company is more than sufficient, my love. Let me do this for you, please.” You looked at her with a playful pout and she chuckled.
After dinner, you helped her clean up and she poured two glasses of wine. “Come, my love. Please let me relax in your arms?” You smiled and took her hand in yours before you went and sat down on the sofa.
After some time in your arms, she looked at you with a familiar look on her face, smiling slyly. “Y/N, I think I should show you the bedroom. After all, you are going to live here too. It would be rude not to show you the whole house.” She grabbed your hand, and you were surprised at her being bold enough to take the lead like this but you liked it.
The bedroom was just as beautiful as the rest of the house, or what you had already seen. The bed was custom made, and you could tell that it was expensive. She pushed you down on the bed before unzipping her dress and letting it fall to the floor. “I know this isn’t what we usually do, and I promise I am not trying to take the lead in any way.” She straddled your lap and leaned forward to kiss you. You bit her lip before forcing them open with your tongue, her meeting yours in a slow and lazy dance. You unclasped her bra and threw it on the floor before kissing her neck, making her gasp while her hand was in your hair.
You bit her neck before looking up at her. “You’re so beautiful, Larissa. You’re my goddess.” You sucked on her neck slowly before moving down her chest, creating a trail down her sternum with your tongue. You bit her nipple gently, making her push herself towards you. Your hand massaged her other breast, and she started rolling her hips, desperate for some relief for the aching between her legs. You let your hand wander down her stomach before slowly sliding it down her panties, feeling how she was already soaked for you. She let out a low whimper and took a deep breath as your fingers started circling her clit slowly.
“Oh, Y/N. I need more. Please.” She was practically begging you with her rolling hips. You gently pushed her aside enough to undress yourself quickly before sitting back down on the bed and she once again straddled your lap.
“Come, I want you to ride my face.” You looked up at her, and you knew this made her nervous but she nodded in agreement. You knew she loved it once she got into it. You moved up towards the headboard and laid down. She hesitantly moved towards you, but you pulled her down gently and she let out a loud moan as soon as she felt your tongue brush over her clit. You held her thighs as your tongue started moving slowly up and down. She started meeting your movements when she got more comfortable, and you noticed how she grabbed the headboard to keep still. The feeling of her arousal running down your chin made your core burn, and you could feel how she got wetter and wetter.
“Oh, you make me feel so good, Y/N.” Her voice was breathy and she whimpered while riding your tongue. You let your tongue slide up her slit before focusing on her clit again, and you could tell that you were pushing her closer to the edge. You grabbed her thighs harder as you felt her movements getting more erratic and you kept a steady pace until she came with a loud moan, making her shake while she was still riding your face to give herself a delicious release lasting even longer.
You let her ride it out before she moved and collapsed on the bed. “Y/N, I’d like to taste you. Please. I know I have never tried before and I have no clue, but I want to try. Please let me taste you.” She looked at you with begging eyes, and you never expected her to ask or return it, but when she asked it made you clench around nothing and you nodded before spreading your legs. She moved down until she was between your legs and smiled before kissing your inner thighs. She maintained eye contact with you the whole time, and the sight of her between your legs made you even wetter. She let her tongue flick your clit and let out a quiet groan.
“You taste so good, Y/N.” Her words made you moan and she started licking your clit with firm movements. She had clearly picked up tricks from you, but she quickly learned what you liked and what made you twitch. Your hand found the back of her head and you gently pushed her closer. You bucked your hips slowly as her tongue worked your clit making you feel things you had never felt before. The sounds she made let you know how much she was enjoying herself, and you gasped when she let two fingers assist her tongue in bringing you absolute pleasure.
Your walls immediately clenched around her fingers, and you knew it wouldn’t take long for you to reach your high. Her fingers started fucking you hard while her tongue started circling faster and harder. Your breath went faster and she could tell that you were close. She moved so she could keep a steady pace both with her fingers and her tongue and your thighs started shaking as you exploded in a loud orgasm, resulting in you bucking your hips uncontrollably, making you soak her fingers and chin. She smiled and wiped off her chin with her hand as she slowly pulled out her fingers.
She moved back up so she was laid next to you, and you were still trying to land. “Larissa, this was so fucking amazing. And this was your first time? You’ll be the death of me, but a very pleasant death.” You looked at her and smiled before kissing her.
“I learned from the best, and you have no idea how proud I’m feeling right now. I can’t wait to make you feel that way every single night.” She let out a chuckle before kissing your cheek. You caught her eyeing you up and you could tell she wanted more. Suddenly, she leaned down and kissed your neck. Normally you wouldn’t allow her to take control, but this new side of her was extremely intriguing. Not a single person in the world could ever dominate you, but Larissa? You realised you’d do anything for her, and it surprised you but you went with it.
Her hand grabbed your breast and you moaned. You had clearly awakened a side that had been dormant or one she didn’t know she had. Either way, you loved it. She pushed your legs open and moved so she was kneeling between them. She looked down on you with a hunger and desire in her eyes, one you had never seen before. While maintaining eye contact with you, she pushed her fingers inside your already soaked cunt. The sensation made your back arch and she started fucking you hard, still staring into your eyes. “Rub your clit for me, Y/N.” you nodded and let your hand wander down between your legs. Your fingers started circling your clit while she was fucking you harder and deeper, adding another finger. Normally you would never let anyone command you to do anything, but you had never been more turned on. You suddenly reached the edge in an orgasm sending shivers down your spine, making you scream. She kept going, and you had no intention of stopping her. Your orgasms kept rolling, and you had nothing left but whimpers to give when you had your fifth or sixth orgasm. You could tell that she would have kept going, but she knew how exhausted you were.
“Thank you, Y/N. For letting me do this.” She collapsed next to you and kissed your forehead.
You were still shivering from your orgasms, and you took a deep breath. “No, thank you, Larissa. That was absolutely breathtaking, as you can probably tell. This side of you? I love it.” You kissed her and wrapped your arm around her. She wore you out completely, and you wouldn’t have it any other way. Your fingers drew gentle circles on her back, and you both slowly drifted off to a comfortable sleep with your legs intertwined. You both got a new start, and it was a beautiful one. You could not wait to continue this journey with the beautiful woman next to you.
#larissa weems x reader#larissa weems x you#larissa weems x y/n#Larissa weems smut#larissa weems fanfic#wlw#f!reader#principal weems x you#gwendoline christie#principal weems x reader
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curse of monaco | leclerc
summary: loving your best friend never is as easy as it seems
warnings: monaco gp just angst about loving a man that can’t love you back
type: oneshot | word count: 1.9k | ⚔︎ angst
| part 2 part 3 part 4
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growing up as the youngest child of two older brothers you found yourself wanting to be exactly like them. you would watch their favorite sports, you would cheer for who they cheered for, and you enjoyed just doing whatever they did like their little shadow. so when you eventually were old enough to go to school with other kids your age you found yourself doing the same thing you did at home. while the other pigtail-headed girls flocked to the swings and multicolored chalk to make hopscotch squares you found yourself wandering by the boys playing with matchbox box cars on the asphalt. in the massive pile of metal and tires, you found yourself drawn to the fiery red cherry one that looked like the one you saw your brothers cheer on from the living room tv earlier in the week.
“hey that’s mine” with the small voice came an outstretched hand as if he expected you to just give it up that easily. which you definitely were not going to do.
“and where’s your name on it?” the brown-haired boy wouldn’t give up his pursuit and neither would you. in fact, you both sat for the entire hour-long recess fighting over the matchbox until a teacher had to come to break you apart. from that day on you, both were inseparable even bringing your own red car to play with the next time you saw him. meeting charles as a small kid fighting on the playground over a small red hot wheel was one of the fondest memories you had in your friendship.
knowing that he achieved those dreams that he didn’t even realize he had when you both met you couldn’t help the warmness that radiated from your heart as here you now sat in the ferrari garage as his guest as now he drives a slightly faster red car (one that you wish you could also fight him for but this one DID have his name on it) however as much as things felt like they didn’t change, one thing did change. he wasn't just your best friend with a horrible haircut anymore; he was a racing driver loved by millions across the world. the realization coming back that the more the two of you grew up the more you realize just how far apart your worlds had become. the world seemed much easier when you were just two children who were glued together every chance they were given neither having a care in the world other than each other.
somehow along the timeline you also found yourself falling in love with motorsport. karting alongside names you now see in the paddock like pierre, or even esteban, however, you grew out of the sport around the time that charles just started taking it seriously. him reaching heights you both never dreamed of as small children banging fluorescent karts into each other after long boring school days. somehow or somewhere in between family holidays and late-night sneaking out to go to parties you couldn't help but fall in love with your best friend. I mean who couldn't? everyone that has ever met charles fell in love with him and you could never blame them because you knew you were just as bad as them pursuing someone who would never see you as anything other than a childhood friend. a placeholder for the feeling of home but it all soon became harder to hide as the pair of you grew into young adults and him into his new GP3 seat.
eyes now followed his every move looking to see if he was the right fit for their cause. in specific the eyes of not only sponsors or teams but also women who also understood the allure of the young monegasque. you stood and watched from the sidelines as the calls got shorter, as the tickets to watch him race got fewer in between, all until you weren't even sure if you knew what his favorite color was anymore. now, of course, you couldn't blame him for not seeing you as anything other than a friend but that never seemed to help the pain in your chest as you watched him pose/date prettier, more put-together girls than you would ever be. yet you waited, even when you knew you looked like a beaten puppy, you waited for his unpredictable calls. they always came when a girl would stand him up for a date, or ask if he could get them tickets for an F1 race, anyway they could think of to use him to benefit their own agenda to make it on the grid. the special ringtone made just for him and the picture of you both smiling as kids in matching karting suits his red, yours pink, both lighting up on your phone making you sigh more than smile these days as you sat and listened to him explain how tired he was of living this life in broken french.
"hi rouge." his nickname falling out of your mouth came so easily even after months apart.
"hi rose,” and there came his for you. “i’m sorry to call so late I didn't know who else to call."
you talked for hours that night as he told you about his new seat in formula 2 where he was sure he understood his role in becoming a future world champion. where he told you he could never have done this without you, as you were the rock in his life that held him grounded. hours turned into the early morning as your conversation merged into your past even somehow talking about the first kiss you both shared on some boat in the middle of an italian sea in middle school, the memory making you blush. you knew charles wasn't malicious. you knew that he didn't actually want to ever hurt you but that night he filled you with so much hope as he reminisced about all the first you shared even talking about how beautiful he found you in those early days yet when he hung up he couldn’t find it in his schedule to talk again until he had another bad day.
it's fair after all this to say it wasn't an equal relationship you shared. I mean from an outsider you were a crutch for a life he once lived but in some small part of your brain, you were fine with that idea as long as you were still a part of this new exciting fast life.
both now standing at 24 you were starting to question that philosophy again. starting to question if this life that you were living as some background character desperately in love with her longest lifetime friend was worth all the hassle. even his family and friends knew of the odd relationship both equally talking to the two of you about how unfair the dynamic was. you felt the burning eyes pierre gave you as you watched the one you had feelings from from now kissing his new longtime girlfriend. him drawing her close as she congratulates him on another pole position for ferrari. you even almost laughed when the french driver mumbled "pathétique" under his breath at the pained look on your face. the pain only subduing itself when the star of the show planted a kiss on your own forehead whispering how glad he was to have you here again.
the curse of monaco should’ve been a metaphor for the both of you as it was a completely one-sided affair. one that burned like it was a stoked fire especially inside of you as you watched on with his family as his race strategy was blown up in front of your very eyes. you even swore you were more upset at his engineer than he even was sitting in his car with his profanities booming over the radio. only having his younger brother arthur as the thing holding you back from telling the crew how you felt yourself you stewed in the wet oiled air. the curse of monaco struck once again as his strangled voice of frustration echoed in your ears over the garage noises watching while he was forced to wait in a pitstop behind carlos leading him once again to lose the lead of his home grand prix. knowing you couldn't continue to watch him be let down by his own soil you found your way back to his driver's room deciding it’s better to be waiting there for him where you could help calm him down. just like you always promised you would.
surprisingly when he finally stormed through the room he was angrier than you thought he would be. charles was always very in control of his emotions, he understood when things were in his control and when they werent which is one of things you admired so much about him. however, in this moment he was anything but controlled as his helmet slammed into the wall, his fiery red racing boots coming off next with those hitting the opposite wall. soon it felt like a game of dodgeball between you and his gear, wanting to shed as soon as possible to distance himself as much as possible from the shitshow earlier.
"rose i dont wanna talk"
"charl-"
"what did i say? i dont want you to be all over me right now y/n"
sucking in a deep breath you almost paused not wanting to fight with him when he was this worked up. you didn't know this charles. the one you spent 24 years learning the ins and out of wouldn't treat you as the one in front of you was treating you now. out of all the people in monaco to be mad at you coudn't understand how he decided on you but you were reaching your own boiling point.
"how dare you" rising up from the couch as fast as you did was enough to make you see stars but it wasn’t even to make you stop your pursuit of the brunette. your pointer finger now making an indent in his red fireproofs as both pairs of blue eyes met eachother as you repeat yourself again. “how dare you be mad at me out of everyone here”
his eyes holding their own story as he almost laughed at your rage. “just get out”
“i cant believe you”
“stop being delusional”
“delusional?”
“yes, delusional to think i even want you here right now”
the look on your face was probably enough to make the screen of the next lifetime movie as you gasp at all the air leaving your chest. the hot tears didn’t stop as you turned around to collect your things and they even came down harder as he tried to grab onto your shoulders to try to make you listen to him, somehow trying to make you believe he didn’t mean it. maybe you were delusional because you wanted to believe at that moment every word that came out of his mouth. you knew somewhere deep in whatever was left of your resolve that it wasn’t real. you knew he meant what he said and you also knew as you walked out of the ferrari motorhome you knew you would once again be left to look like the stupid lovesick little girl because even your unbalanced relationship couldn’t withstand the curse of monaco.
⏤
rose- pink in french and rouge- red in french
(i thought these were cute nicknames for their karting suit colors!) I've been lacking due to school and work but hoped you all enjoyed this lil oneshot!
#charles x reader#f1 drabble#f1 x oc#f1 x reader#f1 imagine#f1 fanfic#driver x oc#driver x reader#formula one x reader#f1 one shot#leclerc#angst#f1 x y/n#f1 x you#📗#monaco series!
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A World For Her Alone | 'Never again' is a prayer, not a promise
Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7
cw (chapter specific): illness, death, pregnancy, birth, depression, absolutely nothing good happens to reader
pairing: claude x fem!reader
summary: the progression of Diana's illness and the birth of reader's child
author's note: sorry for the long gap in between updates, it will probably definitely happen again. anyway, who’s excited to place bets on Claude again? no one?
You had heard, the week after the news arrived at your home, that Diana managed to hold out but still her situation was precarious. Her condition was unstable and required round the clock supervision. Always, at her bedside, there was someone looking over her.
In the months that followed, the mansion was deprived of Claude’s presence. He was by your little sister’s side and as pregnancy drained your body, you could not follow him. Your body ached and the pregnancy was a tumultuous one, if you set off immediately in a carriage which was prone to bumps, hard stops and shaking, you might miscarry. It didn’t matter, though. He didn’t want you there, didn’t want you robbing his time with Diana. An intruder in the scene, a foreign object hanging over a lover and his tragic heroine.
He had only visited once, in earlier days of your pregnancy, when you were not so tired. Claude rushed in, probably only to finish work since he had stayed at your parents for so long, ignoring you even as you stood at the foyer. You turned quickly and called his name. “I apologize, I have work to do,” He said, flatly as he turned to leave. “I’m with child!” You blurted, desperate to have a moment to tell him. You clearly wouldn’t get another. Claude stalled and turned slightly so that he was looking back at you but his body still postured as if he would leave. His face was emotionless for a moment and then a smile touched his lips. That smile didn’t reach his eyes, which still looked lifeless. “Is that so?” He responded with much difficulty, you could tell. The voice that spoke those words barely sounded like him, a voice straining itself, gravely with the effort of holding back sadness.
His expression…one of regret. This child that you knew could never be celebrated by him in such a situation, was already being regretted by him. You knew that it was the probable outcome all things considered. Even so, knowing something that will happen in the future is not the same as knowing how you will feel when it arrives. You hadn’t expected to wound him so deeply with those words, you would not have expected that instead of his anger or his irritation, you would face his wavering form racked with sadness and regret. Yet again the illusion of ever having such a thing as a tie other than marriage to Claude was broken.
And then he disappeared upstairs.
You mused to yourself in bed, curtains drawn, your arrival would perhaps cut through the spell casted by them alone. Alone, they could pretend you were no one of consequence, that there was only their love and nobody else would be needing and wanting them. No greater importance. Your presence was yet another tragic layer, a reminder that they could never be. An omen of the real world. Even though you alone were not what was keeping them apart, per se – you would function as the symbol. For you were his wife. Standing next to Diana you were the chief reminder of duty over love, the weak, beautiful and needing Diana next to you. It was almost a call for rebellion, wasn’t it?
Your mind roved with thoughts about your husband at your little sister’s bedside humming sweet words of assurance while every ache and pain of your body could only be comforted with your own voice. “Everything is going to be alright,” You whispered in the darkness of your room, hands on your small bump, caressing it as if it were a touchstone for hours, unable to sleep. You lost yourself in that large room, lit only by a small lamp. Mindlessly, feeling your bump with some unknown exhaustion and with some desire to simply let the weight piled onto your shoulders droop while you were alone, you contradicted yourself. You whispered to yourself, not even expecting to hear the words aloud. “I believe that it isn’t.”
Nevertheless, your strength did improve some later in your pregnancy and with no help from your mind. On none of those days did Claude come home and you felt every single one of them. Even so, you were tended to by your servants who would of course preserve the health of Claude’s heir. Your days passed without incident, monotonously. Until you received a request from Claude to come to your parent’s mansion.
Your hands shook holding the short and curt note with Claude’s initials. You thought about what front you should take. What expression, what words would be proper in this situation? If you had truly been a devoted sister, you would have already been there regardless of the threat it posed to your health. That was the ideal big sister. But in part, perhaps you had stayed home all this time because you knew that with just one look at her, you would reveal your resentment. Even if you said nothing, your eyes would cast the blame.
You got out of bed and prepared to leave, although you were not nauseous or in pain as you used to be, it was still difficult. Even the effort of dressing in proper outside clothing winded you. The carriage ride was slow, for your sake but still uncomfortable. Still, you could not refuse to see your husband who for months avoided this house. You could not help but follow him when he allowed.
Your escort knight, who had silently accompanied you since you became a young lady, held out his hand for you to steady yourself as you walked. “My lady,” he murmured, signaling you to allow him to help you. His hands were warm and you were glad for their strength, glad that regardless of every anxiety inside you, they pulled you along slowly. You ignored his blue eyes, plied with pity at the state of you.
You arrived at your family’s mansion, your body sore. Your parents did not waste time with greeting, they simply beckoned you in and explained Diana’s current situation. They did not comment on your protruding belly, nor even cast a fixed look at you, their eyes were always directed away from you. The mansion was quiet, nothing except your footsteps could be heard. It was as dim as Claude’s mansion and your parents also seemed washed out. Everything was cast in ashes and deprived of the glow it took on before.
Claude himself had asked that you go to your sister’s room, saying she wanted to see you. It was an absurd situation, having your husband be the one already there, beseeching you to see your sister. But you went along, words lost to you.
When you went into Diana’s room, it was as shrouded as the rest of the house. That thing, that which washed away all color, was the shadow of death. Diana was in bed, weaker than ever, her breathing labored. Her eyelids drooped, under her eyes was colored nearly red as her irises. She laughed pitifully when her ruby eyes fixed on you. “I’ve recovered somewhat, I can sit up now if mother helps me.” What lay underneath that statement, the words to be left unsaid were “It won’t be long.” And you could see it, death had Diana in view.
Even so, she did look very beautiful. Even as the sight of her conveyed pain, she was still beautiful.
Suddenly, she had grown grim. Her small smile dropped. “I’m sorry.” She said, voice wavering more than before.
What could you answer to that? What would a sister who prioritizes her little sister say? You tried to conjure some half hearted words to comfort her and to make yourself seem less like a hollow husk of something born brittle.
“I love Claude” She confessed. Diana confessed her love for Claude as if she were asking for redemption before a statue in a temple. Her fingers, bony and fragile as twigs, clasped each other as if she were praying. Tears rolled down her cheeks which had changed from their natural, sweet blush, into pure ivory.
“I don’t have much time left here.” Though the room was quite warm, you thought surely there must be a draft in the room. It chilled you to the bone.
You could smell, mixed with Diana’s medications, the lingering scent of Claude in the stuffy room. It still remained even with the comings and goings of doctors, even with the seeming stream of air. That was how long he spent in her room.
“I’m afraid to be alone. I don’t want to die alone.” You have never felt more numb. Is it that you must forgive her because she’s dying? No matter what, must she be forgiven? The words passed through you like the reach of a ghost.
You couldn’t, even just shallowly without any intentions, say those words. You left as silently as you came, proper words alluding you just the same. That night, back at the mansion, Claude confronted you as soon as he had come home. He informed you that Diana had cried.
“What did you say to her? She was fine until you came.” His expression was cold.
“Nothing,” You answered lamely with the literal truth.
“Don’t lie to me,” He scoffed “Everything you’ve done so far to other people, how can I believe you? You used that same face while scheming against others without a thought.”
“That child you’re carrying, is it even mine?” He continued, words sharp as blades and aimed to cut you open the same.
In that instance, the world turned white as a snowstorm. Those words were the gentle murder of you. Everything collapsed into itself. And for a moment, you were watching from outside of your own body, passively replaying that voice.
Who knows how long that went on? You blinked and you were in bed again with the doctor in front of you.
“Madame…you’re unwell. Your body is at risk because of this pregnancy. If we act quickly, you can be saved. But that is only if you give up on having this child” The doctor grimly told you. It was clearly unpleasant to serve such an ultimatum but there was no other way it seemed.
He held your hands, his were warm like before. “No.” Your voice was thin as a weak breeze but resolute. If you could only give birth to your child, you could show Claude. That child would dispel his worst suspicions.
…Therein lies the problem. That was why Claude said what he did. You had stepped over others and became stronger for the sake of your love for Claude. You were even willing to use your child to prove your loyalty. You had schemed against many as if it was nothing. Because living otherwise, it would have been hard to protect yourself, protect the fragile semblance of a life you two had. And no matter what, you had to follow that path.
You gave birth months later after much struggle. The strain was enormous to your body, so much so that you thought you may die before the baby was even born. But when the child was finally born, it had the same golden hair as Claude. However, you never saw if the baby had his eyes.
Your vision was hazy and your life was ever diminishing with each moment. No one had even given the child to you yet, you had been watching the midwives clean them off. An impossible yearning, a doomed desire overtook you. You did not even know if it was a boy or girl but your arms would never hold them. Your eyelids grew heavier and it would seem that there was a doctor saying something to a midwife but you could hear nothing but a droning ring inside your head.
Claude had not returned home, not even out of suspicion, to see his child being born. Not even as a marquess, to see his successor. Not even as a ghost. Not even as a hallucination.
In the end, there was no one to look to. Claude was tending solely to Diana even on the day his child was born. Diana had said she was afraid to die alone but Claude had been by her side all this time. You were afraid too. Uselessly afraid of what was before your eyes.
You didn’t want to be brought back. This time was enough to show you that you were not meant to live in this world. You never wanted to again.
tags (i'm doing this on desktop so forgive me if it's not right on mobile): @kage-tobiuo @kreishin @rosephantomhive @yeahdrarry @splaterparty0-0 @dear-dairiess @qluvrv @hafsuhhh @eissaaaa @ayolk @doan-19 @fourcefulcupid @ariachaos @cerisearan
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#claude x diana#claude de alger x reader#claude x reader#wmmap claude#claude de alger obelia#wmmap x reader#wmmap fanfic
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Steddie Dancing With the Stars AU Part 3 (from twitter a little while ago)
part 1:
part 2:
After the excitement of Monday night, Eddie’s glad to have a day off. He spends Tuesday stretching out his aching muscles, lazing around the apartment that he’s been staying in for the last five weeks.
Steve texts him on Tuesday night:
Ready to go again tomorrow? Think you might like this one.
Eddie smiles, glad that the camaraderie has continued off the stage. The exaltation of Monday night still sends thrills through him as he remembers what little he can of the shining lights, the rapturous applause.
Though it’s Steve’s voice that remains clear as crystal in his ear - "That was incredible! You were incredible!". It sends a ripple of something across his shoulders as he remembers the glee in Steve’s smile, the way his arms had felt around Eddie’s neck.
Eddie types back, thumbs hovering for a moment as he carefully chooses his words:
Can’t wait. See you at 8:30.
It’s not exactly the most poetic thing Eddie’s ever written, but it’ll suffice.
Tuesday comes, and Steve introduces Eddie to the viennese waltz. It’s a lot of spinning.
He talks Eddie through the general conceit of the dance; it’s star-crossed lovers, it’s meeting at a ball, it’s masquerade. And for the first time, there’ll be other dancers on the stage with them. Only for the first 30 seconds, to help set the scene, but they’re to navigate their way through them, crossing the ballroom as though drawn by an unseen force.
Eddie sits in silence for a moment after Steve’s demonstrated his part of the dance - he’ll be following where Steve leads this time - before slapping his knees, rising to his feet and announcing;
"Okay, i’m wearing a mask, we’re twirling around all over the place, and there’s other people in the way. What could go wrong?"
And what could go wrong indeed.
Nothing terrible in the first two days of rehearsal, but Eddie finds himself gripping Steve’s arm just a little bit tighter as he attempts to remain upright in the tumult of twirls and spins.
"Don’t fight it, pick your points around the room and find them," Steve urges as Eddie stumbles over his own feet.
"I’m trying. Why the fuck do people do this for fun?"
Steve chuckles lightly, says, "Okay, how about we work on your form?"
"My form?"
"Step back, and show me what you look like in hold," Steve commands, dropping his hands, and Eddie blinks at him, still a little dizzy.
"Uh…sure. Like this?" Eddie shakes his head a little to force away the last of his unsteadiness, raises his arms back to where he thinks they’d be if Steve were closer.
Steve stalks around him, scrutinizing each extended finger, and it’s fine - really, it’s fine - when Steve’s fingertips push eddie’s elbow upwards just a fraction. It’s totally cool when Steve uses the toe of his shoe to nudge Eddie’s foot a little further inwards. What really sets Eddie’s heart racing though, is when Steve stands beside him, reaches around with his right hand, and presses the flats of his first two fingers to the side of Eddie’s jaw.
He guides Eddie’s head back, encouraging him to turn his face, and when he does, Eddie sees Steve with his jaw set and his nostrils ever so slightly flared. Eddie’s breath catches in his throat, suddenly terrified to escape for fear it might bring Eddie’s thoughts with it through his mouth. And then Steve speaks, low and purring.
"Good, Eddie. That’s really good."
And he can’t help it. He can’t help the little surprised whimper that slips from his mouth. It doesn’t matter how fast he swallows around it, it’s already fled between his lips. And there’s something entirely unknowable in Steve’s eyes. something dark.
"This is…okay?" Eddie asks, suddenly shy in an entirely unfamiliar way.
"Perfect. Shall we continue?" Eddie can only nod in answer, dipping his tongue out to wet his lips.
As Steve returns to his position in front of Eddie, he wonders why he feels dizzy again, even though he’s been totally still for a full minute. Turns out it might not just be the waltz that’s making his head spin.
#steddie#stranger things au#3minsover#fanfic#steve harrington x eddie munson#originally posted on twitter
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jake lockley - monster au
Kinktober Day 3 - Monster AU
Warnings: 18+, minors, DNI. Jake is a vampire. Praise kink, blood kink (I suppose?). Swearing. Intended murder but it's all good.
Word count: 1,642
F!Reader, no use of Y/N.
Day 2 ● Series Masterlist ● Day 4
Not even a year ago, you would have scoffed at the idea of vampires, werewolves, witches, and wizards, even demons. If anyone had tried to convince you that they were real, you would have spoken to them with the patronisation you give to your four-year-old niece.
But then you met Jake Lockley.
Realistically, you shouldn’t even be alive right now. You’d been out with friends to a bar, and admittedly you were a little drunk, and you had decided to take the shortcut home through the alleyway by your apartment, and Jake had emerged from the shadows in the dramatic way he does and backed you into the brick wall of the adjacent building, intending to make you his next meal.
Your memory of what happened next was a little fuzzy, but you definitely remember the sting of his fangs pierce your skin, something just…snapped in him. He started muttering about how divine you tasted, that he couldn’t just kill you and never have your blood on his tongue ever again. No, he wanted to keep you around.
At first, you were terrified of him and never left your apartment after that night. But it didn’t seem to stop him. He came by every day, checking in on you, bringing you groceries, and trying to coax you to talk to him. It took you a while (of course it did, why wouldn’t it?), but you opened up to the idea of Jake being around. Jake was different from the vampires you'd seen in movies and read about in books. He wasn't just a bloodthirsty monster; he had a complex personality, one that defied the stereotypes. He explained to you that he was part of a hidden world of supernatural beings, a society that coexisted alongside the ordinary human world.
As the months passed, you found yourself drawn deeper into this new reality, uncovering secrets and mysteries that extended far beyond your wildest imagination. The line between myth and reality blurred, and you realized that the world was far more complex and enchanting than you had ever imagined.
And you soon found yourself falling hard for him. And he for you.
It was new territory for both of you when you started dating. He’d been alone for a long time, mostly having flings here and there whenever the chance struck, and your last relationship hadn’t ended well. You were both…tentative, to put it lightly. And you still didn’t know how he felt about…his dietary habits.
But eventually, you both relaxed, settled into a nice flow, where you were just like any normal couple. You went on dates, he spent the night at your place, he’d even met a few of your friends, and of course with his vampire charm, they loved him.
Then came the sex.
Jake was hesitant at first, worried that he might accidentally hurt you, but you assured him he wouldn’t. It took him a few weeks to warm up to the idea, but one night you both just decided to throw caution to the wind and just…do it. And see what happens.
It was the best sex of your life. You couldn’t walk the next day, and not because of the many positions Jake had you in, but because he’d made you cum so much.
The smug bastard paraded around your apartment like a peacock that night.
And here you are, a year into your relationship, still in your honeymoon phase, and still fucking like animals.
“How does it feel, princesa? Feeling good?”
You were at his mercy, spread out on his bed, naked, your wrists tied to his headboard with your favourite tie of his, one that he now only took out for ‘special occasions’. You were keening badly for him, but with the way he was fucking you with his fingers, you couldn’t find it in you to care.
“God, you’re so fucking wet for me, you’re practically dripping down my arm.”
“Jake, baby, please,” you moan.
“Please what?”
“I can’t…I can’t take this anymore, please fuck me.”
He smirks darkly at you. You whine as he removes his fingers from you, your pussy clenching against nothing suddenly. Jake kneeled above you, wrapping your thighs around his hips as he grind his cock between your folds, rubbing against your clit.
“Jake,” you sob. You couldn’t think clearly, he’d been edging you all night. You were frantic for him. “I need…I need…”
“Tell me, princesa,” he says, still casually thrusting against your clit. “What do you need?”
“I need you to fuck me, please,” you cry. “Please, Jake, please just…just put it in me, please. Want to cum so bad, please, let me cum for you.”
“You know how much I love when you beg,” Jake muttered with intent. “Such a good girl.”
With a single, swift thrust, he entered you. He gives a quiet gasp when he bottoms out, and you immediately pulse around him, giving a small moan of relief.
He didn’t give you any time to adjust before he was pounding into you at a punishing pace. You thanked the Gods that Jake lived in a corner apartment, because you were sure the neighbours would have complained with how loud you were being. The hours of pure teasing of slow building orgasms, only for them to be ripped away from you, left you oversensitive, and desperate.
“How does it feel, cariño? Feeling good?”
He knows it does, the fucking tease. He’s still smirking down at you, not even breaking a sweat as he fucks into you. The sounds coming from you were obscene; the sound of his dick pounding into you, mixing with the way you were moaning his name like a prayer. His hands gripped your thighs tightly as he thrust harder into you, the way he’d positioned your hips meaning he was hitting your g-spot every time.
“Yes,” you gasp, your eyes closing as your head tilts back onto the pillows. “So good, Jake.”
Jake growls as he unceremoniously grabs the back of your knees and pushes them forward, so far back that you’re bent in half. You let out a loud cry, tears streaming down your face as you feel your orgasm building, just out of reach of your fingertips. You just need him to move faster, and harder…
“Fuck, I can feel you squeezing my cock, baby,” Jake says. “You gonna cum already?”
You nod, opening your eyes to look at him, your lips parted slightly as you look at him with a blissed-out expression on your face. “You feel so good, Jake.”
Jake grins as he leans down over you, pushing you further into a mating press. “Your body is incredible, you know that?” he leans down into your neck, lightly kissing up until he’s nibbling at your jaw, as he continues to piston his hips into you.
You whimpered again, your thighs trembling and your body tensing as you tried to keep up with his thrusts, chasing your orgasm. “Need to cum,” you say, your words slurring, you were so out of it.
“Fuck, baby, let me feed from you,” Jake growls, lifting his head to briefly rest his forehead against yours. He looked into your eyes so sweetly, you almost forgot what he was asking. “I need to fucking taste you, please.”
You nodded eagerly, tears falling from your eyes in desperation, the overwhelming need to cum overtaking your senses. “Yes, Jake, please.”
Jake leaned back down to your neck, dragging his nose up your skin, smelling you before he groaned and sank his teeth into you. No matter how many times he did it, you could never get used to the initial sting, before feeling him suck at your neck, your blood flowing freely from you and into his hot mouth. It felt exquisite. The tingles it gave you whenever he did it was enough to keep you asking for more every time.
As if he could read your mind, his hips pick up the pace, slamming into you with such force, you were being pushed up the bed, your head almost hitting the headboard. You cry out his name, feeling stray drops of blood fall down your neck.
“Oh, cariño,” Jake mutter softly, licking at the puncture wounds in your neck. “You taste incredible. Your blood is so sweet.” He bites you harder and starts suckling on your neck again.
It was too much. The blissful feeling of his mouth and teeth, and the glide of his cock inside your pussy pushed you over the edge, and you feel yourself cumming. Jake’s hand slides down to your clit, rubbing at you with purpose, prolonging your orgasm. You’re floating, you’re sure of it; you’ve left your body and you’re drowning in the pleasure. Your thighs tremble around his waist, you could hardly breathe, every thrust of his hips pushing the air out of your lungs.
You go limp as the pleasure subsides, and your senses suddenly come back to you. At first, you feel the dull ache in your legs as Jake straightens them out, and next you feel his tongue again, lapping at your neck almost lazily. He’s still inside you, but you could feel yourself leaking…had he cum? When did he cum!?
As you catch your breath, he glances at you before returning to your neck. “Are you with me?”
You nod, before giving a breathless, “Yeah.”
Jake chuckles as he shakes his head a little. “Good.”
You were both silent for a moment before you break it with, “That was…that was…amazing.”
Jake snorts against your neck before he lifts himself, meeting your gaze. He gives you a soft kiss before reaching up and untying your wrists, giving them a gentle rub. “How’re you feeling?”
You hum before grinning. “Really good.”
“Good,” Jake said, before grinding into you. “Because I’m not done with you yet.”
#jake lockley#jake lockley x reader#vampire!jake lockley x reader#kinktober#kinktober 2023#moon knight#oscar isaac
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I have a question..if everyone is saying that the last time John and Paul met up was 1976 wouldn’t that make Carl Perkins a liar then? I just can’t figure out why he would make up a story that Paul had seen John just a few weeks before he was murdered. Do you think it really never happened? Your take? Thanks.
Hiya @missu4everjohnny !
Its been awhile since Ive answered an ask, and Id need to brush up on my Beatles knowledge to answer this fully, but ill try lol.
This post from @venusmelody I believe uses the Carl Perkins anecdote you're referring to:
John Lennon had been killed only months before outside his apartment building, the Dakota in New York. Linda explained that, although it wasn’t publicly known, only days before his death, she and Paul had visited John and Yoko at the Dakota. At the end of the visit, as they were saying good-bye, John said to Paul, “Think of me every now and then, my old friend”.
– “Crossing Over: The Stories Behind the Stories” by John Edwards. Princess. (New York: 2001). Pages 150-151. Ch 6: Legends of Rock and Roll.
The generally accepted final meeting between John and Paul is 25th April, 1976, the day after they considered reuniting for Saturday Night Live because they were too lazy to get off their arses.
My opinion is that its pretty possible that John and Paul met sometime after this date, although notably I don't think John (throughout his lifetime) or Paul ever confirmed any subsequent meetings.
There's a few other stories from people who recall John and Paul meeting following this date though, with a few interesting ones listed in this post here!
I don't really know who Id say I believe here. Like I said, its possible they met again, but I wouldn't say any of these statements are a conviction of any sort, although it does help that they seem reasonably corroborated*. Im probably more drawn to believe that they did meet again, because 4 years is a long time not to see someone you're very close with. But then again, when you've known someone as long as John and Paul knew each other, and you have your own career, family and life elsewhere, maybe four years passes quite quickly and you don't realise its been that long.
And then of course there's a level of wishful thinking that goes into believing that they met beyond April 1976, which I don't think negates the belief, but it is important to still acknowledge the bias.
*Having said that though, the quote from James McCartney ("I know John held me as a baby. Then I have memories of the Dakota building, very white, lots of sunlight pouring in") is interesting because its unlikely an adult would remember something from the of of 3 years old (see: infantile amnesia), which makes me wonder if maybe he'd been told throughout his life about the time John Lennon held him when he was a baby. And that then makes you question if it would have been his parents who told him this, since presumably he'd only believe it from a reliable source. I don't know, can of worms lol.
#have to bob off to a gig now so byeeee (for now lol)#but yay first ask I've answered in awhile :)#asks#beatles#john lennon#paul mccartney#lemme know your thoughts !#and if there's anyone else who claims they met beyond 1976
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