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oh-katsuki · 9 months

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the notebook theory (tsukishima kei x reader)

masterlist | ao3

Pairing: Tsukishima Kei x Reader

Summary: Kei has a cynical and jaded outlook on love. When his friend Tadashi figures out that Kei has feelings for you, Kei isn’t sure how to react. After all, love is not something he does but rather, something that happens to him.

"There’s a notebook that Kei likes on his desk. No matter what he does, nothing is good enough to put a permanent mark into the thing. Even if he used a pencil, Kei feels like the evidence of the mark would still be there even after erasing it, a molecular change that can’t be seen with the naked eye. Kei calls it the notebook theory.

He thinks that might be what’s happening to him. A molecular change, imperceivable to someone not looking at him under a microscope. It’s like his DNA is being rewritten and stitched together with bright pink yarn. He feels himself steadily come apart and come together. It’s uncomfortable, like trying to dream when he has a fever. Kei is nearly certain that you’re the reason."

Content Warnings: fem!reader (gender neutral pronouns), no real manga spoilers, slow burn, one-sided pining, angst, mentions of divorce and broken homes, toxic relationship (kei's parents), smut, fingering, oral (f!receiving and m!receiving), pinching, mentions of mark making, overstimulation (m!receiving), multiple orgasms, hair-pulling

Word Count: 24.8k

A/N: i know i spent forever working on this but it's finally done and while i have a lot of thoughts about it, idk rly what to say. anyway, here's my first attempt at a tsukishima long fic. also i already know that im not beating the tsukkiyama allegations, okay? i tried and failed to beat them okay i just think there is no way to put them in a situation without it being a little homoerotic bc.. they r them okay? anyway, i hope u enjoy and would love to hear ur thoughts <3

The morning comes without warning. Kei thinks he’s read that somewhere, though he’s just sure just where he saw it. He also thinks that whoever said that is right. Morning is always a harsh assault and never as gentle as people describe it to be.

Kei’s room, the one he rents at university, faces toward the east. In the mornings, when the sun peeks over the horizon, it shines directly into his room and onto his bed before creeping across the light wood floors. His blinds, as useful as they are, always let some through the cracks and the light cuts the ground like butter to a knife. Kei doesn’t think it feels half as romantic as it sounds.

The light works better than his alarm. No matter how set he is on sleeping in, he never fails to wake up as soon as those slats of light make their way across his bedspread. It wakes him like fever and he’s never quite as comfortable as he felt falling asleep. This morning is no different.

He rises like he always has, running a hand over his blonde hair and dragging it down his face after sitting up. Then, he stands once in an attempt to gather his bearings before sitting right back down on the edge of the bed. He fights the lingering remnants of sleep, feeling the ray of sunlight beat down on his back. Then, he reaches towards his glasses on the nightstand and slides them up the bridge of his long nose before standing up again once and for all.

Yamaguchi lives in the other room. His best friend since high school, perhaps his only real friend. They’d miraculously attended the same college and decided to room together, though his other friends from his youth aren’t too far. The arrangement managed to make it all the way until their fourth and final year. Living with each other has become par for the course.

Tadashi wakes up later than Kei does on most days, except for Tuesdays and Thursdays. On those days, he has an 8 am and is usually in the kitchen before Kei has even stood up for the first time. Today is a Wednesday, so Yamaguchi is asleep in his room. The morning light doesn’t wake him the same way it does Kei. His room faces west, so it isn’t until the mid-afternoon, when Tadashi is chased from his room by the afternoon rays and heat, that he notices the sun on its blinding conquest across the sky.

Kei’s room is clean and neat. There’s no clutter, no collection of items that don’t have a proper place. Everything is itemized and stored exactly where he intends for them to be. His floor is void of stray clothes, of socks he’d discarded the night before, his nightstand is bare and his desk is surprisingly empty save for one notebook sitting in its center. It’s a room that he could leave at any time, despite living here for nearly two years. If Kei chose to do so, he could pack his things and be gone in a day.

Yamaguchi’s room is different. It’s lived in and well worn. There’s clutter on the floor, socks and pants he’d taken and tossed away to be dealt with later. Certain things don’t have a place and end up living on semi-crowded surfaces filled with things he likes to put down as quickly as he’d picked them up. Kei envies that way of living. A non-temporary way. He envies the rug in Yamaguchi’s room and the way he fills the space with himself. Kei thinks that even after they’re long gone, future tenants would still be able to feel Tadashi’s presence.

To say that Kei is cynical would be accurate. He tends to lean more towards paranoia in his own strange way. He keeps things in order to quell the anxiety in it. Things stay where they are meant to be. As a result, he’s earned himself somewhat of an uptight attitude that makes Kei feel more awkward than relaxed even when he’s in his own spaces. Not that he minds it.

Tadashi’s dish from last night is sitting next to the sink. Kei moves around it as he fixes a tea, making an effort not to drag his feet across the floor because he hates the scuffing sound. Every now and then, the glass of his mug will clink against the cheap kitchen tile and Kei will cringe in some paranoid worry that it will wake his friend.

As he gathers his things to leave the quiet apartment, Kei wonders where his cynicism comes from. He’s sure he could pinpoint it if he tried. His parents divorce, his previous experiences with dating that have left him jaded, the holes that wore even in his most sturdy of sweaters. Inconsequential nothings that piled up until Kei had developed an undeniably cautious outlook on the world. To him, all of these things are the same. Like the morning, they’re intrusive and unsightly, but none is less important than the other.

Kei does have things he likes. Art, for one. He likes paintings, sculptures, little pieces of history, and all of the things people make with their hands that he could never do. Kei is hopeless at crafts. His fingers are lithe and long, but they’re clumsy and hard to control. Despite his need for order, Kei has trouble controlling his urges. The subtle twitches of his fingers always mess up whatever it is he’s trying to craft.

He likes writing best of all, specifically curatorial writing. It’s easy for him to pick which pieces belong together and how to organize them in a space, it suits his talent for compartmentalizing. Kei gets to tell a story that way, be it historical or artistic, sometimes both. The essays that his classmates find tedious, he finds relaxing despite the stress. For him, writing about art and history is a pleasure much like sipping tea that is the perfect temperature, unintrusive and natural.

By the time he arrives at the library, it’s nearly 9 am. He works better here, in the quiet section at a table hidden by three tall shelves of books. It’s almost never occupied and there are hardly ever people seated in the immediate area. Kei doesn’t go out of his way to avoid others, but he finds that if he doesn’t approach people, they often won’t approach him. He prefers things this way, it makes the good and bad people easier to weed out.

From this spot in the library, Kei can see where you usually set up shop for the day. You arrive after him by about 45 minutes and he convinces himself that it is always coincidental.

Strictly speaking, you’re Tadashi’s friend, not his. You’ve known each other for a little under a year and have been by the apartment a few times, but yours and his conversations are limited entirely to pleasantries. How are you? What are you working on? We’re graduating soon, huh? Casual conversation that Kei can weasel his way out of at any time. Like his room, it’s impermanent.

Kei has had the idea that nothing stays stuck in his head since middle school. The house he lived in when his parents were together, weekdays with his mother and weekends with his father, graduating seniors, the apartment he lives in now. To Kei, all of it is so temporary that he finds it difficult to get attached to it, not that he’s devoid of emotion. He quite loves the little things he has, but his grip on them is loose and half-hearted. Whatever leaves, Kei thinks is meant to leave, so he makes no effort to hold on.

It’s probably unfair to think of you that way, but Kei can’t really help it. He can’t change what he is. Besides, it’s not as if he doesn’t have a reason to think so. He’s often approached by people for his looks, people who want to get close because they think he’s tall and handsome, people who collect others like trophies. He’s not heartless, so he’s been hurt more than a few times. Kei thinks he owes it to himself to be cautious, not that you’ve done anything to earn that type of subtle hostility.

“Thought you might be here,” someone’s hand lands on his shoulder.

“Shit,” he groans, “is it that late already?”

Kei glances down at the watch on his wrist, reading the time as just past 10:45 am. He’s been here for an hour and 45 minutes and hasn’t gotten anything done. Tadashi pulls the chair next to him out and sits down, resting his chin on his hand.

“Spacing out?”

“A little,” Kei responds, tapping his pen against the table and turning back toward his book.

“Got something due?”

“Yeah, on Friday,” he exhales. “Haven’t started it yet though. You?”

“Nah,” Tadashi smiles. “I’m just chasing you around.”

“You’re like a girl with a crush.”

Tadashi shrugs and lets out a good natured laugh. It’s a little too loud for this part of the library, but Kei lets it slide, smiling with his friend.

Tadashi is the opposite of him, he thinks. He smiles often and says exactly what’s on his mind when it crosses it, even if it's a little mean. Tadashi used to be a follower, but in his final year of high school and university years, grew into someone befitting of his somewhat sunny and sarcastic personality. Thoughts and words come easily to him and he has no trouble vocalizing his joy or his disappointment.

Yamaguchi has freckles covering the entirety of his body. Kei knows this because he’s seen far more of Tadashi than he thinks he should have. His skin is tawny and warm like him. Kei finds himself looking at the ones on his hands as Yamaguchi begins to write in his notebook. Kei can’t read his handwriting because it’s terrible and he doesn’t much feel like working on his own project, so he watches his friend’s hand mark the page. Then, his gaze slinks across the library to you.

You’ve got your head down and look like you’re falling asleep despite it only being 11 in the morning. Your hand moves lazily across your computer keypad. By the time Kei realizes that you’ve spotted him staring, it’s too late to look away. His gaze was too intentional, so he smiles at you instead, nodding his head a little.

You smile and wave, standing from where you sit and collecting your things. They fill up your arms because you don’t bother to put them in your bag, making your way clumsily across the room and setting your stuff down across from him.

“Hi, Tsukishima,” you smile. “Hi, Tadashi.”

You use his friend’s given name and Kei feels a pang of jealousy hit his chest.

“How long have you been here? I didn’t see you,” you ask, settling into the seat across from Kei.

“I just got here,” Tadashi smiles, looking up from his notes. “He’s been here for a while though.”

Tadashi motions towards him.

“Aw, why didn’t you say hi?”

“You seemed busy,” Kei lies.

You pout, filling your mouth with air. “Next time just come say hi, ‘kay?”

“Sure,” Kei nods.

Tadashi tosses him a sideways glance and Kei shrugs it off. He’s not interested in being teased this morning, though when is he ever.

Kei doesn’t like the way you make him feel. When you’re around, he becomes prickly. It sets Kei on edge in a way that he hates. His world, previously so rigid and organized, quickly begins to feel cluttered and structureless.

You make his heart pound. You make it hammer against his chest so hard that he can feel it in his ears and behind his eyes. It goes all the way down to his already-hard-to-control fingertips and the tops of his thighs. A previously pastel colored world goes vibrantly candy-colored like it’s been plunged in saturating liquid. He nevers knows how to hold himself, never knows how to act natural. What does it mean to act natural, anyway? How should he rest his hands on the desk? Would it be weird to lace them together? Does he look as stiff as he feels? It’s entirely possible that he is suffering a massive heart attack.

You whisper across the table to Tadashi, leaning forward and laughing at something he’s written in his notebook. You can read his handwriting, something Kei is equally jealous about as he is angry. Kei just watches your conversation, unable to really listen into it on account of the stroke that he thinks he’s having.

The three of you stay like this for a while, earning the occasional irritated whisper or dirty look from some of the more studious people in the library. Kei pretends to ignore them, remaining quiet throughout the duration of your study session with Tadashi. His quiet corner is invaded and painted bright pink with your presence and he doesn’t know whether to feel giddy or irrationally angry. Maybe it’s both.

“Crap, is that the time?” Tadashi exclaims, hunching over himself when someone nearby shushes him. “I’ve got class across campus in 10 minutes.”

He hurriedly collects his things. Tadashi does it so fast, in fact, that Kei hardly has time to beg him not to leave him alone with you. So he just watches as Tadashi throws his things clumsily into his bag and tosses it over his shoulder.

“Bye, ___,” he says in a rushed whisper. “I’ll see you at home, Kei!”

“Sure,” is all that Kei can muster. His voice cracks when he says it and he immediately avoids looking at you and stares at nothing in particular in his textbook.

It’s quiet for a while. Kei pretends to busy himself by glancing between his textbook and his computer and you sit with your head bowed as you take notes on a lecture you’re listening to through the single earbud in your right ear. Then, you tap the end of your pen lightly on Kei’s notebook to get his attention.

It’s only been about 10 minutes since Tadashi left, but the library now feels like an entirely different place. His heart pounds as he struggles to keep a straight face.

When he looks up, you’re looking at him with a tilted head. Your expression is soft and unintrusive, friendly but a bit guarded. You smile softly at him.

“You don’t like me very much, do you?” You ask gently. It doesn’t sound accusatory, but rather a casual statement tinged with friendliness.

“Huh?” Blood rushes into his ears.

“I just kinda get the impression that you’re uncomfortable around me,” you say. “Am I wrong?”

“Uh, no- it’s not that I don’t like you.”

He’s quick to correct you and he feels heat rush to his cheeks.

“Then what?” you question lightly. There’s no ulterior motive behind your smile, Kei can tell, but your openness makes him uneasy.

“I dunno,” he calms himself a little. “I don’t really know how to act around you, I guess.”

You laugh, leaning back into your chair. “Is that all?”

“Well, yeah…” he feels awkward and his palms are sweaty. He drops them below the table to wipe them. “You’re Tadashi’s friend and I’m pretty different from him so I just…” He trails off, shrugging his shoulders.

“I was worried you hated me,” you smile, chuckling to yourself.

“That’s definitely not it,” he loosens a little, smiling lightly despite the thudding of his heart. It slows down steadily.

“I’m your friend too, ya know?”

“That so?”

“Well, yeah,” you shrug and lean all the way back, crossing your arms. “I just kinda figured that we would be.”

“Friends?” His tongue feels heavy in his mouth. His word placement is awkward.

“Duh,” you laugh a little. “You know, you don’t have to speak formally with me.”

“That’s just the way I am,” he huffs at being read.

“Well, you can drop them with me. I don’t mind.”

“Tall order,” he snorts.

You tilt your head to the side. “Did you just make a joke?”

“Uh, yeah…”

“Funny,” you smile. “What are you studying?”

“It’s not really studying…” he says, glancing down at the near empty document. “I’m supposed to be writing an essay I have due on Friday. Not going well.”

He looks up at you through his lashes. You’re leaning forward across the table now, your chin angled upward as you try and peek at what’s on his screen. He turns it so that you can see better.

“Baroque art?” You read aloud. “Oh yeah, Tadashi mentioned that you’re an art history major. Do you draw too?”

“No,” he scoffs. “I’m hopeless at it, but I like art. It’s nice to look at.”

“Huh, you look like you’d be good at drawing,” you say.

“What’s that mean?”

“I dunno, like a manga author or something,” you shrug. “You’ve got nice hands too. Like an artist.”

“Manga?” He laughs a little, trying to play off the color he feels rushing to his face from the compliment.

“Yeah, you look like the manga type.”

“Is it the glasses?” He raises an eyebrow.

“Maybe,” you laugh.

Kei looks down at his hands. They’re big, like the rest of him, and his knuckles are thin. He’s hyper-aware of them now that you’ve complimented them. He studies them briefly, following the barely visible veins up the back of them, following the line of his fingers to his nails. They’re trimmed and somewhat well kept, save for the spots that he tends to bite at when he lays in bed at night. His hands look nothing like Tadashi’s. Tadashi’s fingers are thick and his nails are short on account of him biting them. Kei wonders if you prefer them to his.

—

There’s a notebook that Kei likes on his desk. It’s only a bit bigger than his fist—a little thing, really—and it’s completely blank. Kei’s never written anything down in it, nothing has ever really been worth sullying the thing. It’s got brown fabric binding and a semi-thick cover. It’s malleable, but not so flimsy that he’d need a desk to write in it.

Kei’s not too sure why he bought it in the first place. Maybe he liked the size of it, small enough to fit in his pocket, but not so small as to be ridiculous. It’s practical, much like he is. He’s considered turning it into a daily planner and putting to-do lists in it, but Kei isn’t much of a list guy, it’s Tadashi that likes making lists. Nothing has ever really felt like it suits the book. He’s considered journaling in it, but his life is one big routine and he doesn’t think there’s anything worth writing about.

No matter what he does, nothing is good enough to put a permanent mark into the thing. Even if he used a pencil, Kei feels like the evidence of the mark would still be there even after erasing it, a molecular change that can’t be seen with the naked eye. Kei calls it the notebook theory.

Kei is nearly certain that you’re the reason, not that he’s about to admit to anyone else that he likes you. Tadashi managed to weasel it out of him, though he didn’t really have to ask. In fact, it was less of an admittance to Kei than it was confirmation of his own feelings. If Tadashi can tell that he likes you, then he must.

People seem to know things about Kei before he even knows them himself. At least, that’s how it seems. He’s always confronted with his own feelings by other people, not that they’re really ever wrong, but it seems everyone catches onto what he’s feeling rather quickly. He’s not too sure why that is, maybe he’s just obvious and hasn’t realized it.

Come to think of it, when Tadashi had confronted Kei about his feelings for you, he’d been deeply annoying about it. Kei couldn’t even try to deny it because Tadashi had come out with his guns blazing, cornering him in the living room and throwing facts about you at him until his face was beet red with embarrassment. Then, with a serious frown on his face, he’d simply stated you like them and that was the end of it. Kei couldn’t even deny it. Even he knew that it read plainly in his expression.

To be frank, it sucks being told in plain speech how he feels about someone. Whenever that happens, it makes Kei feel like he’ll never be able to keep another secret in his life. Sometimes, he wishes that he was able to make the decision to tell someone else on his own, but even Kei knows that that is a little beyond him. Kei can think the feelings just fine, but when it comes to speaking them aloud, he seems to have a padlock around his throat.

Tadashi knows this about him and if it weren’t for him, Kei would have agonized far longer and far worse over certain situations of emotional turmoil. Most of the time, Tadashi gets it without needing to ask or say anything. It’s nice to have someone understand him in that way, even if it does mean he can’t keep a secret to save his life.

Feelings lately make Kei a little angry. He’s always known that he’s had somewhat of a sour personality. Kei doesn’t need to be told that he’s smug to know that he is. He’s snarky and usually touchy, picky about the people that he hangs out with. It’s not really a secret that Kei is a hard person to get along with, but lately, he feels like it’s been worse.

Maybe it’s because this is new territory to him. As conceited as it sounds, Kei has never liked someone first. It’s not because he doesn’t think anyone is worthy, but rather, because there are very few people he doesn’t find grating. Despite how he seems, Kei is incredibly sensitive about things, so naturally, it’s easier to get on his nerves.

He’s dated before, though not for long, and all of his relationships have started the same way. Kei is approached by them, usually on the premise of looks, and he accepts. He’s not sure why he does. Sometimes it’s because he thinks they’re pretty, other times it’s because the romantic in him hopes that it will actually work out. It never has.

Most of the time, Kei turns out to be different than they expected. He’s too touchy, too sarcastic, too awkward in his way of trying to love. To Kei, it has always felt like it’s ended just as he was beginning to develop real feelings.

If he’s being honest, it’s given him a twisted inferiority complex. He’s worried that somehow, on a fundamental level, he’s not enough. Sometimes, it even goes so far as for Kei to think that he’s just generally disappointing. He tries not to be. Kei wants to be relied on. He wants to be someone his friends can go to when they need something sturdy.

Despite his personality, Kei considers himself sturdy. Well, maybe stubborn is a better word. Kei considers himself stubborn enough to be made sturdy. He’s just a little awkward. That’s all. People seem to mistake that for being unreliable. It’s a peeve of Kei’s.

Tadashi isn’t like that. Tadashi is bright and warm, reliable in every sense of the word. Kei actually looks up to him a lot, not that he’d ever say anything like that to his face. Sure, Tadashi’s not perfect, but at least people rely on him. At least Kei relies on him.

Tadashi is more easy going than Kei is. He has an easier time going with the flow, which makes him more personable. Kei thinks that Tadashi is the closest thing that he’s had to a better half. In truth, without Tadashi around, Kei isn’t exactly sure what would have become of him.

It’s pointless thinking about these sorts of things though. Kei realized a long time ago that thinking about being better won’t automatically make him better. This is just the way he is and Kei’s learned to accept that, whatever it means. Still, none of this changes the fact that he likes you.

Kei could mull over thought after thought and he doesn’t think it would have any effect on the fact that he’s definitely developed a crush. He’s positive it will go away. In fact, he’s not even sure if it’s real. Maybe Kei is just jealous of you the same way he’s jealous of Tadashi. You’re bright and warm like he is. You and Tadashi are cut from the same cloth, so maybe that’s why the two of you get along so well.

In all honesty, Kei wishes he could be a little more like Tadashi for that reason. Maybe if he were more like Tadashi, he’d have the courage to fully accept these new and uncertain feelings for what they are. But he doesn’t have that kind of courage, not right now at least. He doesn’t have the courage to solidify and lean into his feelings. Kei doesn’t want to risk what little comfort and security he has. If the relationship between you both is a blank page, Kei doesn’t have anything important to write. What if it ruins the paper? What if when he erases it, it changes the thing on a molecular level for the worse? The notebook theory.

—

Despite everything, Kei is rather self-aware. At least in his own head he is. Kei knows that when he pretends he doesn’t like you, he really ends up liking you more. He knows that he’s touchy, that he’s awkward, that he comes across more crass than he intends to. Kei is clumsy, not stupid. That doesn’t mean that he has to acknowledge it.

You’ve been coming around more often since the conversation Kei had with you in the library. Maybe you’re more comfortable now knowing that he doesn’t hate you, so you’re happier to join Tadashi in their shared apartment.

Kei feels bad about making you think that he hates you. Actually, he feels really bad about it. Like, astronomically bad about it. Embarrassingly enough, it actually keeps him up at night. So he goes out of his way to be a little nicer to you. The only other person he’s ever done that for is Tadashi.

He greets you properly when you pass, despite the flare up of a medical condition he’s yet to fully diagnose brought on by your presence. He asks you questions about your studies, partially because he is genuinely curious and partially because he doesn’t want you to hate him. He thinks he’d die if you hated him. Kei’s being brave in his own way. It’s little, but he’s doing it.

As a result, the two of you have grown a little closer. Kei has your phone number now, though he rarely has any reason to text you. Typing out a message to you makes him nervous. It makes him red in the face when you’re not even there. Somehow, having your phone number feels vulnerable to him, like he has access to you whenever he wants and you him. It means that if you wanted, you could make him nervous without even being nearby. That’s a lot for Kei to think about.

Kei sees you in the library sometimes too, but he never takes the initiative to speak to you. You always come up to him first, clumsily gathering your things the way you did the day you and him sorted out your friendship and plopping them down in front of him.

Sometimes, you both go several hours without saying anything to each other. Other times, you’ll chat away about something while leaning forward on the desk and Kei has to pretend that he’s not wildly nervous at your proximity. You’re so friendly. So genuinely warm that Kei can physically feel it when you talk. Despite his nerves, Kei would describe you as comfortable. You’re a comfortable person to him, as alarming as that is.

His crush is out of hand. It scares him, not that he’s actively thought about that. What started as him noticing you has quickly ballooned into him being painfully aware of you at all times. He kind of feels bad about it. You don’t seem to think that he’s anything more than a friend and it makes Kei feel bad that he thinks of you as anything but that. He doesn’t want you to be just a crush to him. Kei wants you to be like Tadashi, someone he can rely on and be comfortable with. He almost feels like he’s reversed what’s been done to him his whole life, like somehow he’s only become your friend because he wants something more.

Truth is though, he doesn’t want anything more. Kei wants to stay exactly where he is. He doesn’t want his crush to develop any further. He doesn’t want to confess, he wants to forget. Even now, sitting on a couch in the library, he wants to imagine he doesn’t feel anything at all for you.

“Hey, are you okay?” You tilt your head at him.

“Huh? Me?” He questions. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

“You seem a little distracted,” you smile. “You’ve been staring at your computer for like… 10 minutes with this blank look on your face.”

“You’ve been staring at me for 10 minutes?” He raises an eyebrow, trying to play off the embarrassment of being caught like that.

“Not staring at you,” you huff, “but I definitely noticed.”

“Ha, creep,” he tilts his head up a little, blowing air out of his nose.

“You’re twisted, you know?”

“Whatever,” he shrugs his shoulders and looks back at his computer screen. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees you shake your head and smile before looking down at your work.

Tadashi has said the same exact thing to him before. In highschool, after Kei had made a joke about his teammate Hinata’s height, Tadashi had given him a look and snorted that he’s so twisted. He’s been hearing that sort of thing his entire life.

“Hey, are you cool if I skip out of here early?” You ask a few moments later.

“Oh, yeah sure. I don’t mind,” he nods, hiding his disappointment. “I didn’t realize that we had like… set times to be here.”

You laugh lightly. “Well, we don’t, but we tend to come and go at the same time, no? I kinda look forward to it.”

Kei envies your honesty. You’re so honest all of the time. You say what you feel when it pops into your head. He wishes he could be like that, maybe then he would be able to say that he does too. Instead, he just nods and swallows his heart back down. You smile at him again and then gather your things.

“You’ll be home on Friday night, right?”

“Uhm, yeah? Why?”

“Tadashi invited me and a few friends over, did he tell you?”

“I think he mentioned it.” Kei has actually been thinking about it for the last couple days.

“Good, I’ll see you, right?”

“Yeah, you will.”

“Great, talk to you later then!” You smile and with that, you walk away.

You sounded so certain in that statement. Talk to you later. You said it like it was inevitable. Thinking about that, Kei can’t help but watch you go. He even likes looking at the back of you, though he wishes he could see your face too. It feels worse to be walked away from than walked towards.

Kei can’t tell anymore if what he feels is romance or jealousy. It’s probably both. It’s probably some mix of the two that he can’t quite sort out. He wishes it weren’t that way. Kei gets the feeling that he might be ruined.

So he just watched you leave the library. Someone is waiting for you at the top of the stairwell. Kei can tell they’re a guy and despite the reluctance of his feelings, his stomach drops anyway when you nudge his shoulder with yours and loop your arm around his. That’s something you haven’t done to Kei before. Touch him. You touch this other person so easily. It makes Kei jealous.

It makes sense that you might be seeing someone, that there might be someone else. After all, you’re you. Desirable. You look up at the stranger, leaning on him, smiling and flashing your teeth. Yeah, it makes sense.

Turns out, it’s easier to pretend that he doesn’t feel anything when he thinks you’re interested in someone else. He likes to think it will save him the time of wondering.

—

Kei has cleaned his room approximately four times today. Sure, it’s overboard, but every time he goes into it, he notices something else that needs to be spruced up. Like a pot with a leak, there is always something that he seemed to miss the last time he went through and cleaned up.

It’s not like you’ll be in his room tonight anyway, but you will be in his apartment and that’s close enough to his room that he, for whatever reason, needs to make it so spotless that it looks like a set. Kei knows though, that even when you’re here, he’ll be wondering if there’s something else that he missed beyond the closed door and he’ll think about it incessantly.

He’s been avoiding the thought of him liking you. Instead, Kei cleans and cleans and then cleans some more for good measure. It’s not like he has any sort of claim on you and he knows that it’s stupid to feel jealous over one interaction he witnessed by chance, but his mind is running away with him. Was that person your boyfriend? Has he been begrudgingly pining over a taken person all these months? Do you think that he’s creepy because of it?

He doesn’t get to be upset over the idea that you’re seeing someone else. Why wouldn’t you be? Kei’s done absolutely nothing to indicate his interest in you (or lack thereof), besides maybe telling you that he doesn’t hate you. He has no right to feel the way he does, but he spirals anyway. His insecurities, the ones that gnaw at him in the hours before he falls asleep, play in a constant loop in his head. His unreliability, his unpleasant personality, his cynicism, the baggage he carries with him like a badge. All of it piles up one by one.

Kei feels like a kid again, losing himself over such a simple interaction, over something so miniscule that it might not even be considered anything at all. There are a plethora of reasons for his feeling like this and Kei thinks he could draw one of his issues out of a hat and it would still somehow address the situation at hand, but all he really feels is hurt and he doesn’t want to explain it away. Kei finds that liking someone hurts. It hurts more than it feels good and the uncertainty chews at his patience and leaves it razor thin. It’s not your fault, nor is it the person Kei’s convinced himself you’re seeing, but he needs someone to blame and it can’t be himself.

The idea of you relying on someone else makes him nauseous. He’d never considered the thought before, that you find him as unreliable as others do. Kei wants to be relied on, most of all by you, and that fact makes him upset. He’s afraid of what you think of him and without the confidence to accept his feelings, it threatens to crush him.

Kei’s got this itch over it, so he tries to distract himself. Cleaning his space to prepare for you helps him delude himself that he doesn’t quite like you at all. It’s not your fault. He’s just confused, like his parents were when they married each other. It hurts. Like they were when they had him to try and fix their marriage, which had started to fall apart even when Akiteru was an only child. He’s confused. He’s jealous over your ability to live the way Kei has always wanted to. That’s all this is. Nothing more and nothing less. He feels like he’s being split in two, stretched thin between two modes of thinking.

Kei glances over his shoulder and into his room one last time. He’s forgotten to wipe the mirror. He goes back in and the cycle starts itself over.

—

He’s not proud of his behavior. Kei thinks only a seriously huge asshole would be proud of the kind of behavior he displayed tonight. He regrets it immensely, though some part of him is begrudgingly holding onto the idea that maybe he was right to be so short tempered. Of course, that’s a lunatic’s idea.

Tadashi is standing by the apartment door, mumbling something to you behind it. Over Tadashi’s shoulder, he sees you shake your head and in response, Tadashi gives a small bow before shutting the door to the shared apartment. Then, Tadashi turns and walks towards him.

Kei doesn’t want to look at him, but Tadashi, for some reason, commands his gaze.

“Is there a reason you were such a huge cunt tonight?” Tadashi sort of spits the words. They land at Kei’s feet and roll around before settling.

“What are you talking about? I was normal,” he answers, though the statement sounds like a lie the moment it leaves his lips.

“Bullshit,” Tadashi says. “You were being an asshole the second they walked through the door and you’ve been one to me all day.”

Kei scoffs, his cheeks burning, “I’ve just been tired, dude. Besides, what does it matter? You’re closer to all of them than I am.”

“What? You’re tired so you just get to be a huge asshole?”

“No,” Kei responds.

“So then what was that?”

Kei doesn’t really know. He doesn’t know what prompted him to act so cold or make such snide comments. It’s true, he’d been in a bad mood all day and he knows that Tadashi has borne the brunt of his misplaced emotions, but even Kei is confused as to why he’d acted the way he did. Still though, there is a part of him that knows that it was connected to his spiraling and what he saw in the library. He’d sound insane if he said it out loud, like somehow his growth was stunted in the third grade, but Kei is sure it had something to do with liking you and the hurt that comes with it.

It’s not as if he’d been outwardly mean, but he had been cold. There are parts of himself that Kei doesn’t want you to see, sections of his personality that he ropes off from you because despite not liking you, he wants you to see the best in him. Tonight, he managed to somehow show off the worst.

It started with the noise when everyone had arrived. You, Hinata, Kageyama, Tanaka, Kiyoko, and Yachi had all piled into the apartment in one large group. Kei’d been sitting on the couch and the sound of the door startled him right off the bat. He assumed that by the time they all had rounded the corner into the living room, his face was already sour, because everyone had greeted him cautiously.

It’s no surprise that everyone was so loud. Kei has known this particular group for many years and they, having all gone to school or work nearby, pile into his apartment often for events like these. You were really the only new factor in all of it and while Kei is known as a touchy person, he certainly was more touchy than usual tonight.

You’d been trying to talk to him all evening and Kei, in a desperate attempt to avoid whatever lingering feelings he had for you, had been shutting you down at every turn. Thinking back on it, he’s endlessly embarrassed. You didn’t deserve that. You’d been nothing but kind to him and there Kei was holding a grudge over you for something he had no right to be angry about whatsoever. He had been holding a grudge over something that he’d learned later that evening that wasn’t even true.

Kei thinks that what Tadashi is referring to, was deliberately picking a fight with Tanaka. Kei and Tanaka have never been particularly close. Even in high school, his boisterous and somewhat obnoxious personality has always rubbed Kei the wrong way. Despite that, Tanaka has somehow managed to maintain a connection to him through university and the two of them have established a tentative but honest friendship.

You had been sitting on the arm of the couch beside Tanaka, leaning over him to look at something he was showing you on his phone. Then, you laughed a little too hard and Kei felt that familiar sense of injustice rise to his throat, thick and heavy. It’s an ugly feeling, the kind that makes Kei feel sick when he’s in bed late at night. Bile rose in his throat in the form of harsh words. Jealousy in the form of the verbal venom Kei excels at.

For Kei, Tanaka was an easy target, someone he could poke at and get a satisfying rise out of. In the moment, the rise he’d gotten from Tanaka by making snide comments about the volume of his voice and his particular obsession with pretty girls had been exactly that, satisfying.

He’d picked a small fight. Nothing physical, but just enough to get him irritated. Kei’s not proud of it, but he’d be lying if he said he hadn’t done it deliberately. After all, Tanaka has never been the type to be the bigger person and turn his nose up.

Sometimes, when Kei is experiencing emotions he’d rather not deal with, he decides to obsess over one single thing. Usually, it’s cleaning or schoolwork. Tonight, it happened to be the volume of Tanaka’s voice, which he knows was a shitty thing to do. Despite wanting to be reliable, Kei can’t help but feel that he was endlessly immature, lashing out at someone completely unrelated to the situation just because he could.

Tadashi pulls him from his thoughts.

“I thought you liked them, dude,” his voice is even, letting up on the anger.

“Who?” Kei plays dumb.

Tadashi responds with your name and Kei stiffens slightly. “I thought you guys had gotten closer. What happened?”

“Nothing happened,” Kei says. It’s the truth. Absolutely nothing happened. Kei had spiraled all on his own.

“Why did you ignore them then?”

“I didn’t ignore them,” Kei says. Again, it’s not a lie. He may have shut conversations down and been a little cold, but Kei couldn’t ignore you if he tried, it’s sort of the whole problem he’s dealing with now.

“Maybe, but you were cold. Like… needlessly.”

“I was fucking normal, Tadashi. You should know me well enough by now to know that,” Kei spits.

“That’s the problem though, isn’t it? I know you and I know that shit wasn’t normal. You’re twisted, but you’re not an outright asshole, Kei. What’s going on?”

“I was normal, Tadashi. Just because I didn’t bounce around or get rowdy, doesn’t mean that something is wrong,” Kei answers.

“Yeah, but you were like… majorly fucking weird, Kei. You were being an asshole. Don’t you like them? Don’t you want to be nice to them?”

“I don’t.”

“You don’t want to be nice to them?” Tadashi scoffs, rolling his eyes.

“No, not that. I don’t like them like that anymore,” Kei lies.

“Oh please, that’s such horseshit,” Tadashi laughs bitterly.

“Get off my ass, Tadashi. I don’t fucking feel that way about them anymore,” Kei insists.

“Did something happen?”

“No, literally nothing happened! Why does something have to happen? I just don’t like them,” Kei feels himself getting indignant. Tadashi doesn’t deserve this either, but he seems to be indiscriminate with his poor behavior tonight.

Tadashi looks at Kei for a moment, studying him and calculating all of the things only Tadashi could know about him. Kei tries to hide it.

“Jesus, Kei, you’ve got to stop doing this shit,” Tadashi touches his hand to his forehead.

“Doing what?”

“Getting all in your head about every single connection you’ve ever had with a person,” Tadashi raises his voice.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means I’ve seen you do this a million times! You start to really feel something for a person and then you fucking back away like a dog with its tail between its legs!”

“I don’t do that!”

“Yes, you do! You sabotage yourself until the other person is forced to do something about it!” Tadashi exhales.

“I’ve never done that deliberately! What does someone else’s actions have to do with me?”

“It doesn’t have to do with you,” Tadashi says, “It has to do with your parents.”

The wind is knocked out of Kei, air sucked from his lungs. He furrows his eyebrows at Tadashi, his mouth slightly open.

“I’m right, aren’t I?” Tadashi pushes, angry and trying to make him listen. “Not every relationship is like your parents’, Kei.”

Tadashi knows he’s stepped over the line the moment he says it. If it hadn’t registered before, it registers clearly on his face now, regret settling over Tadashi’s usually bright features. Kei gapes at him for a moment, running through his thoughts and trying to pick out one that best verbalizes what it is he feels. Kei comes up empty.

“Shit-” Tadashi starts towards him. “Kei, I’m sorry I didn’t mean that. I’m just pissed off I didn’t mean to-”

Kei pushes past him. “Tadashi, I know you mean well, but don’t try to tell me about my fucking parents.”

Tadashi doesn’t try to stop him when Kei flings the front door open and walks outside.

—

Kei remembers it like it was yesterday. He remembers all of it.

He can clearly recall the way shattered glass looked on the marble tiles of his childhood home. White porcelain, broken up into multitudes by his mother and father. They never laid hands on each other, but everything else in the house was fair game. Kei’s lost count of the amount of broken glass dishes and picture frames he’d swept from the floor.

Kei’s parents had always been on and off in their affection for each other. One minute, they were deeply in love and the next, they were at each other’s throats. Neither of them were bad people, but they made each other bad people. The two of them brought out the worst in each other, maybe on account of knowing the other so well.

Akiteru was an accident. His brother knows this because when his parents argued, they never let him forget it. In their spats, leverage was whatever they could get their hands on, and that just happened to be Akiteru and the unfortunate circumstances of an accidental pregnancy.

His parents got married at 19, thinking that they’d be able to handle a child, that their marriage was anything but rushed. They convinced themselves that it was love, when the reality was that Akiteru came because they were too young and stupid to prevent it. At least, that’s what Kei and Akiteru had settled on in the evenings after the yelling had died down and they were left to make sense of it in their shared bedroom.

They had Kei to fix the marriage. Kei knows this because, like Akiteru, his father’s marital “solution” in the form of a second child was constant leverage to his mother. Kei grew up asking Akiteru why his mother and father even had children in the first place.

Their relationship was rocky and unstable, predictable and toxic. They, like Kei, would do things to get rises out of each other. They’d make digs, do things to get under the other’s skin. They did it for attention, for affection, or out of loathing for the person they’d decided to make their life partner. When things settled, they got bored. His parents often mistakened calmness for complacency in their relationship. His parents loved each other, but they hated each other just as much, and it was he and Akiteru who paid the price.

They got divorced when he was fourteen and any chance of Kei having a normal family went to the courthouse with the divorce papers. Akiteru was 20 at the time and managed to avoid the brunt of the custody battle. Kei still gets unexplainably angry with Akiteru for leaving him alone, though he knows that it’s not his fault. The only way Kei could make sense of it was through blame and it was easier to blame Akiteru for lying about volleyball or leaving him alone than it was to blame himself. Both Kei’s father and mother tried for full custody, not because they loved him that much, but because they knew that it would destroy the other. In the end, Kei spent his weekdays with his mother because she lived closer to his school, and weekends with his father just because.

It happens all the time. People grow together, then grow apart, and grow to loathe each other. Kei watched it happen to his parents, he watched it happen to his friends, he watched it happen to himself with his own reflection. That’s just the way it goes.

The air outside of his apartment is cool and breezy. He can feel the wind through his sweater, cutting through the gaps in the stitching and into his skin. Kei feels like he can think a little better out here, sitting on the short concrete wall with his back to the apartment building. He stares at his feet, outstretched in front of him. He's still wearing his house slippers.

Kei did this once when he was younger. The fight that night had been particularly bad and his parents had resulted to throwing things across their bedroom. Kei could hear picture frames shatter through two walls and he wondered which memories they’d decided to trash. A particularly loud shout had sent Kei out of the front door and onto the curb in front of the house.

He remembers crying, staring at his house slippers on the pavement, afraid because he could hear the shouting even from the lawn. Akiteru had come out to get him, sitting down beside him on the curb and putting his arm around him.

“Are mom and dad gonna get divorced?” Kei had asked through sniffles.

“Divorced? No, no,” Akiteru answered. “It’s just a rough patch. It happens to all couples. Mommy and Daddy will be fine.”

“It’s normal?” Kei sniffled.

Akiteru paused for a moment. Looking back, Kei realizes that Akiteru was debating on whether or not to lie to protect him. Kei wishes he hadn’t.

“Yeah, it’s normal.”

Normal. Kei realizes that he doesn’t exactly know what a normal relationship looks like. He is his parents' son. What they had in them, he has in him. Kei knows that those habits, the digs, the sour statements, the passive aggressiveness, are all things he’s picked up from watching them. Some role models they were.

He needs to apologize to Tadashi. He may have overstepped, but Kei knows that he’d been an asshole tonight. He’ll need to apologize to Tanaka as well. And to you, which is perhaps the scariest part of this. He wants to apologize for his behavior, but apologizing means that he has to admit that he’d acted the way his parents did, out of jealousy and a pull for attention. Yup, he’s his parents’ son alright.

Kei tilts his head up toward the sky. Only half of it is visible, the other half blocked by the three story apartment complex directly behind him. It’s a clear night, but he can’t see any stars and the moon is nowhere to be found. Kei wonders when the morning will come. It’s a few hours off, but he thinks about how the sky will look when the sun begins to rise.

“Kei,” a familiar voice calls from in front of him.

You’re a few feet away, your hands clasped in front of you.

“Thought you went home,” he says.

“Yeah well, I had intended to,” you start, “but you seemed off and I felt weird going back without checking on you. Can I sit?”

Kei shrugs his shoulders, mortified and angry at being caught like this. He appreciates the thought, but you’re the last person he wants to see right now. It just means he needs to face his shortcomings sooner.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Kei answers automatically.

“Just decided on some fresh air?” You smile a little and Kei blows air out of his nose.

“Yup, that’s exactly it.”

You sit next to him with your legs outstretched the same way his are, your hands are laced together in front of you, hanging down between your thighs. Kei doesn’t make an effort to say anything and neither do you. Instead, he just trains his head back up towards the sky and attempts to collect his thoughts, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

Strangely, tonight he doesn’t feel nervous. Maybe it’s because he doesn’t have the energy to. Maybe he’s too preoccupied with being sorry to pay any mind to the heart palpitations he gets when you’re around. Maybe it’s because even though he showed you the worst of him tonight, you still came back. It’s a small hope, but it’s there.

“Hey,” your voice comes quietly, “I don’t know what’s going on, but if you need- I mean- if you want to talk about it, I’m a pretty good ear.”

Kei nods a little.

“I’m sorry,” he says, “about tonight.”

“I didn’t come here for an apology, you know?” You exhale a little.

“Yeah, but you deserve one,” he says. “I was pretty shitty to you.”

“Yeah, you were,” you agree, catching Kei off guard, “but it happens to all of us. Sometimes we feel things and just can’t keep them inside, you know?”

“Yeah,” he agrees, swallowing down his shame.

There’s another long silence. You don’t move to touch him or talk to him, instead, you provide steady company. Kei, as strange as it is, is comforted by your presence.

“I fought with Tadashi,” Kei says after a few minutes.

“Today?”

“Yeah, tonight. After everyone left,” he says. “I deserved it though. I’ve been pretty shitty to him all day.”

You hum, leaning back on your hands.

“I did the same shit in high school too, you know?” Kei starts. “We’ve uhm- we’ve known each other for a while, the group that was over tonight. Around the end of middle school some shit happened and I uh- I took out a lot of what I was feeling on Tadashi and the others, but mostly Tadashi because he was the only one who knew.”

Kei isn’t sure why he’s telling you this. Maybe Tadashi was right. Maybe this is another attempt at self sabotage.

“You bullied him?” You ask, a little surprised.

Kei shakes his head. “No, but I wasn’t very nice either. Anyone could tell you that. I thought I was past it, though,” he admits, a little defeated.

“Did you ever apologize?”

Kei looks up at you in surprise. Your eyes are full of something, curiosity, maybe pity.

“For what you did in school?”

He nods. “Countless times, and not just to Tadashi either, to everyone.”

“You know, stuff like this happens,” you say. “When I was little, I used to hate sharing. Toys, food, friends. I’d hate it when my friends were friends with other people. It made me insecure and I’d get mad at them for it. I grew out of it, but sometimes I still get that way and I have to apologize later.”

Kei laughs. It’s strikingly similar to what’s happening now, not that you’d have any way of knowing.

“I can’t imagine you doing that,” he says.

“I’m serious,” you say. “I still get weird over it sometimes.”

Kei shakes his head a little, smiling.

“All that I’m saying is that sometimes we slip up, that’s all. It’s normal,” you continue. “Not that I’m condoning it. Just saying that it doesn’t make you a horrible person. It makes you human.”

“Thanks,” he says softly.

“No problem,” you respond.

“So why’d you fight with him tonight?”

“He was angry with me because I was an asshole,” Kei shrugs.

“And you’re mad that he called you out?” You give a quiet and somewhat incredulous laugh.

Kei shakes his head. “No, I’m angry about what he said after.”

“What’d he say?”

Kei debates on telling you. He doesn’t want to make himself out to be a victim. After all, Tadashi meant no harm, even if his comment did exactly that.

“The argument kind of switched subjects,” Kei tiptoes around the fact that the subject was you. “He brought up a bad habit of mine and I got defensive.”

“Okay,” you say, waiting for him to say more.

“Remember when I said that something happened at the end of middle school and only Tadashi knew about it?” When you nod, Kei continues. “My parents got divorced. They were a bad match and it was messy. He brought it up.”

You nod again, your eyes wide.

“He didn’t mean any harm, I know that,” Kei inhales. “But uh- that stuff kind of sticks with you. Well, it’s stuck with me and I didn’t like having it used to explain my behaviors, even if he was right. I’m not deflecting or anything though. I know I was the problem tonight.”

“Sure,” you say. “I’m sorry about your parents.”

Kei shrugs. “It’s in the past. They’re both remarried now with new kids.”

The last sentence leaves Kei with a sour taste in his mouth. His parents are good people, but after his childhood, he doesn’t think they have any business having more children. Maybe they’re capable of being good for them, but Kei doesn’t like to imagine that. It makes him feel like their marriage wasn’t the problem, but he and Akiteru were.

“You say that like they got a new pet,” you smile a little. “Are you still in touch with them?”

“Yeah,” he says. “I visit whenever I go back home, though they’re really not too far from here.”

“That’s good of you.”

“Well, they are my parents,” Kei says plainly.

You’re the only other person he’s divulged this to by choice and your reactions, understanding and level-headed, make him feel better. It’s like getting a weight off of his chest. This is the worst of him. This little bit of information, his history of being unable to fully confront his feelings, of taking anger out on others when he was young, is where his problems originate.

“Yeah, but you’re allowed to feel what you feel about it,” you say. “My mom died when I was eleven. Texting and driving. I’m still angry at her for it.”

“I’m sorry,” he says.

You shrug and offer him a wry smile. “It’s in the past, but I’m still angry even though I shouldn’t be.”

“At her?”

“Yeah,” you nod. “She made a stupid mistake that we’re constantly warned about and left my dad and me behind. I was so angry with her, still am. I love her though, perceived faults and all.”

Kei thinks about whether or not he loves his parents. He thinks he does, even if he resents them. Kei can’t imagine what he’d do without them. Even though his childhood had few emotional comforts, he still can’t think about a world where he doesn’t visit home to have his mother’s cooking. That’s a world that you live in.

“That’s hard.” It’s all Kei can think to offer.

“It was,” you say. “Got easier though as soon as I started accepting things. Now I just miss her more than I hate her.”

Another bout of silence follows this. It must be close to two in the morning and he’s been outside so long that he can no longer feel the tip of his nose.

“Anyway, about tonight,” you say, “it’s not a crime to feel what you feel, but if you need help, that’s what we’re here for. It’s easier to accept feelings and get hurt than to ignore them, don’t you think?”

“Yeah,” Kei says, looking to face you. “Thank you.”

You’re so pretty. It’s striking. The curvature and angles of your face, the gentle look in your eyes, softened by the conversation. Kei finds himself thinking that despite not wanting to face you a few hours earlier, he’s grateful that you showed up. You’re good in ways that Kei can hardly fathom.

“You should go inside. Tadashi is probably wondering where you are,” you say, standing up. “Plus,” you pinch the tip of his nose between your middle and pointer knuckles, “your nose looks like a cherry tomato.”

“Rude,” he says, startled by the sudden touch.

“Payback,” you shrug your shoulders and Kei rolls his eyes.

“Do you need me to walk you home?” Kei offers, a bit nervous about you walking home on your own.

“I’d love to take you up on that, but you seem tired and I don’t live very far,” you respond. “I’ll call you when I get home though, okay? Since you’re so worried.”

Kei laughs a little and then nods, standing up. “Yeah, I am.”

His honesty surprises even him, but you just tilt your head and give him a small smile.

“I’ll see you on Monday,” you say. “Thanks for the apology”

“Anytime.”

“I hope not,” you laugh and Kei follows suit.

You begin to turn on your heel, giving a small wave.

Kei doesn’t know what overcomes him, but he calls out your name and reaches for your wrist. Before he has a moment to think about what he’s doing, he pulls you to his chest in a hug. You stiffen and then relax in his grip, wrapping your arms around him. Your body is warmer than his, sending heat through the gaps in his sweater.

“You can call even if it’s not to tell me you got home safe,” he says. “If you want to.”

You squeeze him around the middle. “Okay, I will.”

When Kei lets go, he finds that his face is burning. The cold has been replaced by a flush of blood, making his vision a little syrupy.

“Thanks for coming back,” he says. “Get home safe.”

“Of course,” you sound a little dazed, wearing an expression that Kei thinks might match his. “And I will.”

Then, you smile at him, flashing your teeth and giving him a wave. You hold up your phone and point to it.

“Expect a call!”

Kei nods and raises his arm to wave goodbye.

He stands and watches your figure as you walk down the sidewalk and turn the corner. When you’re out of sight, he lingers by the door to his building, just in case you decide to come back. You don’t come back, but Kei lingers anyway, considering the conversation.

He goes inside, intent on apologizing to Tadashi. When he opens the door to his apartment, the lights are still on in the living room and Tadashi gets up from the couch and walks quickly down the hall to him.

“Kei, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to-”

“Don’t worry,” Kei says. “I know. I’m sorry about tonight too. And for treating you like that today. And for high school.”

“High school?” Tadashi says, confused. “Why are you bringing up high school?”

“Just wanted to apologize again.”

Kei can feel his eyes drooping, exhaustion creeping into his body and replacing the elated feeling he had moments before.

“I didn’t mean to bring your parents into it. How you like someone is none of my business,” Tadashi says. “I was out of line.”

“So was I,” Kei admits through a tired sigh. “I shouldn’t have acted that way. I’ll apologize to the others in the morning.”

Tadashi narrows his eyes a little and nods. Kei, besieged by that sleepy late night feeling, moves towards his bedroom.

“Hey, Kei,” his voice comes out a little louder this time. “You’re being surprisingly easy-going. Are we good?”

Kei scoffs a little, rubbing his eyes. “I just had some time to think, that’s all. And yeah, we’re good.”

“Okay, are you good?”

“Yeah, I am,” Kei says.

Before he closes the door to his room, he furrows his eyebrows and makes a firm decision.

“By the way,” Tadashi turns to him, cocking his head to the side in response. “I lied. I do like them.”

“Could have guessed as much,” he responds, laughing a little. “See you in the morning.”

“Yup, see you in the morning.”

Kei shuts the door to his room. It clicks into place quietly. His room is spotless. It looks like a room that could be easily emptied at any time. He sighs, stepping into it and laying down on his bed. His phone is on the comforter next to him, lying face up.

When it lights up, it illuminates the ceiling above him and he answers the phone without needing to check who's calling.

“Hello?”

“Hey, I got home safe,” he hears your keys clink against something and then the sound of a door shutting. Then, he hears the sound of you laying down on your bed. He imagines you’re lying the same way he is.

“Good, I’m glad,” he says. “No trouble?”

“No trouble at all,” you say. He can hear your smile.

“Thanks again for coming back tonight,” he says, turning over onto his side and letting the phone rest on the bed in front of his face.

“Of course,” you say.

He doesn’t know what else to say. His nerves have caught up to him and your voice through the speaker sounds so close, like you’re whispering directly into his ear.

“Okay, well I’m going to go to bed,” Kei starts.

“Kei?” you say.

“Yeah?”

“I’m gonna take you up on your offer. About calling you. Just wanted you to know.”

“Okay,” he swallows.

“I feel a lot closer to you.”

“Yeah, me too.”

“Goodnight, Kei,” you practically whisper.

“Goodnight,” he responds, lowering his voice the same way you did. You hang up the phone and the call ends.

He blinks at his phone for a moment before standing up and getting ready for bed. Kei goes through the motions while thinking about how the evening got here. He’d been certain before it began that he no longer liked you, that he was confused. Now, he’s certain of the opposite.

He decides that he’ll like you for real this time. Even if he’s afraid of hurting himself, of hurting you.

Kei lays down in his bed and faces the ceiling. He thinks about his parents, about your mother, about you. The cadence of your voice, the slight tremor in it. He thinks about your expressions, understanding and unintrusive. He thinks about your history, the anger you’d admitted to him and the grace you’d given him in his own circumstances.

He dreams of braids, like DNA. Coils of pink yarn woven together in an intricate pattern. A molecular change not visible to the naked eye. Morning comes like liquid gold, spilling across his bedspread in slats through the window.

—

Kei’s apologies go smoothly. Tadashi’s friends—his friends—are good people. They know him better than most and field his awkward, stumbling apology with steady hands.

He’d explained his sour mood in as little detail as possible, deliberately omitting his feelings for you while doing so, and he made a special effort to apologize to Tanaka. He’s easygoing and quick to forget, but Kei knows that even after accepting the apology, Tanaka will lord it over his head for a week or two. Tanaka thinks those kinds of things are funny and Kei won’t try to tell him otherwise.

You do take Kei up on his offer. You call him twice a week now. Sometimes it’s to tell him something relevant to him, other times, you just whisper into the phone that you just felt like talking. Either way, it’s not good for his heart. Kei thinks that at this rate, it might just give out.

There are a lot of things that Kei could say about liking you. It makes his days a little brighter. When he remembers that he has someone he cares about like that, he feels a surge of excitement for no particular reason. He finds that he looks forward to seeing you and goes out of his way to do so, more than he did before he was willing to admit it.

He’s noticed the way you eat, like every bite of food is even better than the last. He’s noticed that you wipe the condensation off of your cups before each sip. He’s noticed that when you’re studying, you’ll pull at the collar of your shirt absentmindedly and then become frustrated when it is stretched out of place. Kei likes all of these things about you.

Kei has also found that liking someone hurts. It hurts worse than he thought it would. Insecurity weaves its way into even the most minor of interactions. He’s self conscious almost all of the time, adjusting his hair, clothing, glasses right down to minor details. As of late, Kei appears more put together than he ever has, but the reality is that he’s probably the least put together he’s ever been.

When you’re around, Kei is awkward and clumsy. He drops things, trips over nothing, loses control over his lanky limbs and overshoots things. He feels like a teenager again, not that he’s that far off from one.

Still, one thing overshadows all of this. Kei is so comfortable around you, so peaceful despite the nerves and insecurity, that he’s able to forget about the worst of it. Forgetting about the worst of things is not something Kei is particularly good at. He’s cynical by nature. You help to ease the burden of it.

The coffee shop he’s visiting with you today is quiet. The room is decorated with dark oak wood and the tables are accented by the rings of the trees the wood was cut from. The early spring light filters in at angles through the windows letting out onto the street. It falls across your notebooks and the knuckles of your hand, wrapped evenly around a black pen.

You’d brought him here to study instead of going to the library and Kei can’t help but think that it feels like a date. His tea sits half-finished in a mug beside his laptop, beginning to cool to room temperature. Your coffee sits by your unoccupied hand and every now and then, you’ll reach to take a sip of the warm beverage without even glancing up.

Kei has spent so much time watching you today, that he’s hardly gotten any work done. His computer is open on a document with a paragraph of writing about nudity in the classical period, which he hasn’t touched in about 10 minutes. He’s been clicking blankly around the page, adding spaces and then deleting them and then glancing up over the edge of the screen to look at the way you purse your lips when you’re focused.

“You’d get a lot more done if you stopped staring,” you say, not looking up from your notebook.

Kei chokes on his exhale. “What?”

You laugh a little, looking up at him through your lashes. God, you’re pretty.

“The document?” You chuckle. “You’re not fooling anyone by clicking around randomly like that.”

“Oh,” Kei furrows his eyebrows and shakes his head a little. “Yeah, just can’t seem to focus.”

“What’s the paper on?” You set down your pen and cross your arms on the table.

“It’s not really a paper,” he says. “It’s a visual analysis on the Aphrodite of Knidos.”

“Is that the one without the arms?”

“No, but they come from the same family of statues,” Kei smiles a little.

You hum a bit. “Do you like it?”

“Like, do I think the statue’s pretty?” Kei closes the screen of his laptop to see you better. “Yeah, I do. Learning about the history of it is a bit depressing though.”

“Why?”

“Well, Aphrodite was one of the most powerful Greek gods, right?” He says, and you nod your head and roll your eyes because you know that already. “But this statue group intrudes on a private moment of hers. She’s trying to cover up her body, probably just before or after a bath. It’s meant to be humiliating.”

You tilt your head. “Sounds more interesting than molecular structures at least.”

Kei laughs a little. “Yeah, I think it’s just a bit more interesting.”

“Why did you choose to study art history?” You question, leaning forward on your elbows.

Kei feels awkward at receiving the question. He doesn’t like talking about himself much, let alone his passions. They tend to get away from him.

“Probably because I’m no good at art,” he smiles a little.

“Such a shame, what with your artist’s hands and all,” you reach across the table and tap his knuckle.

Kei feels the color rise to his cheeks.

“You’re no good at art, so you study art history instead?” You press for more.

“Yeah,” he says. “I like things that people make with their hands. There’s a lot of human expression in ancient art, good and bad. Gives a bit more context into who we were before.”

You lean back in the chair, grinning at him. Kei bites the inside of his cheek and tries not to notice the slope of your neck.

“Why are you studying molecular bio?” He changes the subject.

You shrug your shoulders. “I want a good cushy job that makes me a lot of money.”

Kei watches the corners of your lips curl up.

“Plus,” you continue, “I wanted to show off a little bit.”

“So you put yourself through four years of torture?” He raises an eyebrow.

“Yup, I’m a huge masochist,” you grin.

“You STEM kids are unbearable, you know?” Kei snorts.

“But you like me anyway, yeah?”

Kei nods, heat creeping up his neck, and watches you return to your work.

It’s true, he does like you anyway. Kei likes you so much, in fact, that it frightens him. Well, the idea of liking someone has always frightened Kei, whether he’s noticed it or not. Commitment, or lack thereof, make Kei nervous in the same way heights do. He feels like he could lose his footing at any moment.

That’s probably why he doesn’t want to do anything in particular about his feelings. Kei is content with just feeling them. He’s content to just be able to like you in his own way, even if nothing ever comes of it. He probably shouldn’t do anything about them, considering the back and forth battle he’s waged in his mind over the last few months. He’s too indecisive to do anything but like you, and even that feels herculean to accept.

Not that liking you is a hard thing to do. You’re easy to like. It’s easy for him to picture touching you. It’s easy for Kei to imagine late night conversations and little intimacies shared over damp pillows. You’re easy to talk to, floating through conversations and navigating conflict with a sure step, something Kei can’t do. It’s not hard to find things to admire.

Kei imagines what it would be like to be with you. He imagines the feel of your hands in his, how you might look spread beneath him, the inside of your thighs pressing against his hips. He imagines how his glasses might fog up with your breath and slip down the bridge of his nose. What do you taste like? What do you feel like?

A little alarm bell sounds in his head. This is a dangerous line of thought, a greedy one. Kei doesn’t think he can handle greed, not when it comes to you. He got a taste of it that day when he saw you leave with someone else and again the following Friday. Kei doesn’t mix well with it, with wanting. Still, he wants.

—

It’s a breezy day. It cuts the growing humidity as the beginning of May creeps on. This is no doubt one of the best times of year, though Kei prefers the fall or winter. Still, even with the slightly sticky air, his walk to class is pleasant. He’d even venture to say that it’s good.

Light filters through the trees, blooming with their spring flowers, and in the distance he can see a familiar row of cherry blossoms just beginning to bloom. As he approaches them, he finds himself admiring their delicate petals, wondering just how brief their bloom will be before they come cascading down. One tree among the pink rows has yet to open its flowers. The buds sit on their branches, shades of green and gray. A late bloomer. This tree will no doubt flower once the other petals have fallen, and when it does, it’ll become the most eye-catching thing on the street.

Kei admires it for a moment, standing below the thing and looking up through its twisting branches. It’s so small, much smaller than the rest of its counterparts, and its branches don’t look too full of yet-to-bloom buds either.

There was a tree like this outside of Kei’s childhood home, the one his family lived in together when it was whole. It would always bloom a week after the others and every year he would worry that it never would. Of course, he kept this fear to himself, but he often watched it from his bedroom window when Akiteru was out. He’d press his face against the glass and pray for the flowers to come so that it didn’t get left behind. Sure enough though, it would bloom without fail and leave scattered pink petals across his yard and doorstep. Kei wonders if this tree in front of him will do the same.

“Thinking about changing your major to plant sciences, Kei?”

He jumps, started by your voice and your proximity.

“Jesus,” Kei turns, “you need a bell or something.”

“You’re the one standing in public staring at a tree with no flowers on it,” you laugh a little.

Kei shrugs his shoulders, not really willing to give an explanation for the train of thought he was just on.

“Where’re you headed?” he questions.

“Dropping off an assignment,” you smile lightly, “wanna come with me?”

“I can’t. I’ve got a class in 15.”

“Fifteen minutes is fifteen minutes,” you shrug. “We’ll make it.”

“We?” Kei raises an eyebrow.

“Yeah, you come with me to drop off my paper and then I drop you off at class. It’s a win-win.”

“Sounds like I’m just doing a lot of extra walking,” Kei snorts.

“Yeah, but you get to do it with me so it’ll be more fun.”

Kei folds and goes with you to drop off your assignment. It’s an essay assigned by an old-fashioned professor who doesn’t like electronic submissions. You comment off-handedly on what a waste of paper it is and Kei nods, just happy to hear about it.

It’s strange. Kei is normally very tied to his routine. It keeps him sane, helps him to organize his thoughts and feelings into neat compartments. For Kei, an orderly life is an orderly mind. Somehow though, you ask him to deviate from that and he’s more than willing, eager even, to oblige you. Better yet, he does it without feeling off-kilter. Well, without feeling as off-kilter about his daily life. When it comes to you, Kei is about as stable as a pogo stick.

The walk to your professor's office is only a few minutes from his classroom, just a few buildings over, but by the time you both arrive there, Kei’s palms are sweating. He resorts to shoving them in his pockets and wiping them on the inside of his pants, mortified at the idea of accidentally touching you like this.

“Hey, about tonight,” you start after dropping the paper off with a quick bow.

You’re supposed to come over. It’s the first time you and Kei have agreed to hang out at one of your places alone and Kei has been compartmentalizing his nerves so harshly that he’d almost forgotten about it entirely. Maybe that explains his easy-going mood.

“Yeah?”

“So, Tadashi may have mentioned it in front of the others,” you give him a sheepish grin, “and they may have asked to come and I definitely told them ‘the more the merrier’.”

“Oh, yeah?” Kei’s a little disappointed. “So they’re coming too?”

“Yeah, is that okay?” You furrow your eyebrows.

Kei can’t very well come out and say that it isn’t, because his reason for thinking that is entirely about monopolizing your time. Kei says he doesn’t want to do anything about these feelings, but that doesn’t mean that he can’t indulge just a little into the foreign feeling of accepting that he’s ‘in like’.

“Yeah sure, why wouldn’t it be?”

You raise an eyebrow at him and Kei misses the message entirely.

“I dunno, you’re not really a fan of bigger groups right?”

“Not really,” Kei shrugs, “but I’ve known them for a while so it doesn’t count.”

You nod your head and then smile. “Great! Now, where is your class?”

“Social Sciences,” Kei glances down at the brown watch on his wrist. “In about… four minutes.”

“Wanna run? Can’t be late, can you?”

Kei does not want to run. He runs anyway. You’re faster than he is and your step is louder. The soles of your shoes thump on the floor with every step you take and your whole body lurches forward with each bound. When you reach the end of the hallway his class is in, Kei is completely winded. Considering that he plays volleyball as a hobby, he should really be in better shape. He attributes his lack of breath to your presence. Maybe he’d been holding it while watching you run.

You glance into his full classroom, giving him a relieved look upon seeing that the professor has not begun her lecture yet. Then, you bounce twice on the tips of your toes and start jogging in the other direction.

“Have a good class!” You call.

“What’s the rush?” he questions.

“I’ve got class now too, dummy. Just wanted to hang out with you for a few more minutes.” Then, you turn and run off, your bag bouncing against the side of your leg as you round a corner and fly down a set of stairs.

That’s the thing about you that Kei can’t get enough of. When Kei takes a step back, when he resigns himself to being okay with just a chance meeting and a brief hello, you take a step forward. Whatever Kei lacks, you make up for tenfold. Your outstretched hand makes him greedier. It makes Kei want more than he’s ever wanted before. He goes to class starved for something that isn’t food, a feeling Kei hasn’t experienced often, let alone leaned into. He lets himself feel the hunger.

—

Day melts away to a cool evening, still slightly wet, but like the dampness before rain. The air loses its warm touch, creeping into something chillier. Kei opens his bedroom window to let the air in. He likes the smell of cool nights. He wants his room to smell like it when he sleeps tonight.

“Sorry that I spilled the beans about tonight,” Tadashi leans in the doorway of his room.

“It’s not like that,” Kei rolls his eyes, already irritated with the implication that whatever you and Kei had organized was anything more than two friends hanging out.

“Sure it isn’t,” he laughs.

“I’m serious dude,” Kei fights the urge to throw something soft at him.

“You wanted to hang out with them alone, right?” Tadashi tilts his head. His dark hair falls to the side and around his neck.

“I just said it wasn’t like that!”

Tadashi gives an even laugh. “You’re the one making it dirty, Tsukki, not me.”

Heat floods Kei’s face, painting it red.

“Caught ya,” Tadashi smiles.

“When the hell are you moving out?” Kei grumbles and Tadashi gives another good natured laugh.

“Not until you do. You’re stuck with me.”

“Not if I kill you,” Kei doesn’t smile when he says this.

Tadashi barks a laugh. “So what changed?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean with you. You seem a little more upbeat lately,” Tadashi says. “Nothing like the sad sack from a few months ago.”

“I was kidding before but now I’m serious. I really will kill you.”

Tadashi shakes his head a little but doesn’t say anything, intruding on Kei’s space until he gives an answer.

“I just got tired of it, that’s all,” Kei says evenly, though it’s a little hard to admit.

“Tired of what?”

“Pretending,” he says plainly, glancing up at Tadashi in the doorway.

“Because of them?”

“No,” he starts. “Maybe. I don’t know. Can you leave now?”

Tadashi shakes his head. “Too curious to leave.”

“I don’t have an answer for you,” Kei grumbles. “I got tired of pretending I didn’t want them.”

“Not like you were very good at pretending,” Tadashi laughs and Kei tosses him a sharp look.

He raises his hands defensively, tucking his chin downwards and laughing lightly. “Okay, fine. I’m gone now.”

“They’ll be here in an hour or so, by the way,” Kei adds and Tadashi gives a little hum to confirm that he’s heard him as he leaves the room.

Kei glances around his room. The floor is bare, save for a small mat by the side of his bed to keep the shock of warm feet on a cold floor in the morning away. That notebook, dear to him as it is, still sits on the desk. It’s empty, but Kei likes the look of it.

The hour before you and his friends are meant to arrive goes by so slowly that Kei worries that he’s gotten the day wrong. He incessantly checks his watch. It’s a brown leather watch with a square face. Thin and somewhat old fashioned, Kei prefers it to pulling his phone out to check the time. His Dad has one like it, almost matching. It had been given to him as a gift at his high school graduation and Kei had accepted it begrudgingly. He’d not been on good terms with his parents then and having them both in the same space for his graduation day was more trouble than it was worth. Still, he wears the watch almost daily. Despite having the impression that his parents never really cared about him, it was a fine gift for him and the brown strap suits his light skin tone in the same way it suits his father’s.

He walks to the mirror in his room, hanging on the wall beside his nightstand, and peers into it. Kei’s curly hair is somewhat unruly. It’s hard to manage, especially in the warmer months when his waves turn into frizzy curls that he can’t seem to keep down. It’s gotten longer, coming down to just above the bottom of his ears at the back and curls upwards in licks of thick blond.

Kei fiddles with it for a moment, tucking it behind his ears and then deciding to pull it forward. He could put gel in it to help calm it down, but he hates the greasy look of it and he’s never been one to primp and preen. He adjusts his glasses on his nose, square frames in a tortoiseshell pattern. They look expensive, though they’re only a cheap pair that he’d found at the drug store and had the lenses replaced.

He looks normal. Kei looks like himself, if not a bit flushed in the face from his nerves. His reflection is one he is oddly unfamiliar with, despite it being his throughout his entire life. At some point during high school, he’d stopped recognizing the man in the mirror as Kei and started viewing him as a separate entity. Kei Two, a version of him that can make a home out of a space and find things to write in his notebook. Kei Two’s family is still whole and unbroken, and he likes to imagine that he’s a little more friendly than the real-world version. He looks away from the mirror, content today with being the original.

Kei is in the living room and around the corner when the front door latch clicks open and is followed by a symphony of raucous voices. He takes a sharp inhale, unsure of why this feels so different from the hundreds of other times you’ve all piled into his living room.

“Where’s Kei?” He hears you call, dragging out the syllable of his name in a soft hum.

That’s why. It’s because this time, you’ve come here to see him specifically. You’re not here to see Tadashi or by chance, you’re here because you’d made plans to see Kei. That’s what makes it different.

You round the corner and Kei is hit full force in the chest with his emotions and his nerves. It happens all at once, keeping the air from his lungs. You’re smiling, beaming even, and Kei thinks that maybe it’s because you can hear the hammer of his heart against his chest.

“Hi,” you breathe, plopping down next to him on the couch.

“Hey,” he chokes out.

Kei chides himself for his nerves. He’d been doing better about getting weird around you, but today he feels closer to blowing up than he ever has.

Hinata, Kageyama, Yachi, and Noya make their way into the kitchen, each one clapping Tadashi on the back as they do. They beeline for their fridge, opening the door and flooding the floor with artificial white light as they pull out enough beers and sodas to supply a small army. Kei wonders why he and Tadashi ever bought so many of them. Kei hardly drinks, but he supposes that Tadashi just likes to host.

“Tanaka and Kiyoko?” Tadashi questions as he makes his way into the living room with the group. His beer cracks open with a satisfying pop.

“Date night,” Noya says, sinking into one of the arm chairs situated around the coffee table. “So annoying.”

He groans about Kiyoko, someone he’s all but worshiped since high school.

“You’re just mad it isn’t you,” Kageyama quips, giving a somewhat mean grin.

“Not true,” Noya argues. “I am the happiest person in the world for them! But now they go on dates and I can’t come. It’s like I lost a bro.”

“You’re so overreacting,” Yachi adds, her lips forming around high pitched syllables. “They’re here most of the time.”

“Yeah, most but not all,” Noya pouts.

“Give the same energy to Daichi, Suga, and Asahi next time, kay?” Tadashi laughs.

Their friend group is a large one, consisting of most (if not all) of their highschool volleyball team. While Hinata, Kageyama, and Yachi are the same age as Kei and Tadashi, Tanaka and Noya are a year older, and Kiyoko is two. Daichi, Asahi, and Suga all went to universities outside of Sendai, meaning they hardly ever see them. All in all, the rest of the group is pretty bummed about it. Kei just finds that he misses having Daichi around to reel everyone in. Now that he’s gone, that job has somehow gone to Tadashi, who is more of an enabler than anything else.

“They’re different and you know it,” Noya frowns, opening his open beer with a hiss through his teeth.

You lean to the side, bumping your shoulder against Kei’s.

“Who’re Daichi, Suga, and Asahi?” You ask softly.

“You’ve never met?” Kei furrows his eyebrows and you shrug.

“Maybe, but if I have it was only once or twice.”

“They’re friends from our volleyball team in highschool, but they’re two years older.”

“Okay, so one year older than me?”

Kei blinks a few times. “You’re a year older than me?”

“Yeah?” You laugh a little like it’s obvious.

“But aren’t you a fourth year?” He furrows his eyebrows.

“I took a year off before starting college,” you shrug your shoulders. “Thought that I had to get my sillies out.”

“Your sillies?” Kei laughs a little.

“Yeah,” you smile, “and I had to save up some money. It makes the world go ‘round, you know?”

“What are you guys whispering about?” Tadashi gives Kei a wry grin over the top of his beer can.

It’s only then that Kei realizes the way you both are leaning into each other. He’s tilting his head down to hear you better and you’re leaning forward. It gives off the impression of two people conspiring, of closeness that Kei hadn’t even realized had crept up on him.

“I was asking who Daichi, Suga, and Asahi are,” you shrug off the moment, leaning back in the chair.

This prompts a chorus of disbelief, everyone jumping in to describe them to you. Kei takes it as a moment to breathe, inhaling and exhaling. He can feel your thigh against his, just barely there and bleeding warmth through the fabric of his jeans.

They delve into stories about nationals, little details that Kei had forgotten a long time ago. Every now and then, someone will bring up Kei’s more-than-sour personality and he will feel the need to hide the embarrassment on his cheeks. Even though you know about it, it’s still mortifying for Kei to hear. He wants you to see the best in him, but any hopes he had of you forgetting are quickly washed away as someone brings up Kei’s relentless prodding of Kageyama’s easily pushed buttons.

You laugh along with them like you were there, amused to hear stories about your college friends in their high school years. Kei finds himself thinking that you fit very well into this scene.

Still though, despite the fun he’s having, Kei’s battery begins to run out quickly and after a long game of cards, he gets up to take a quick break in the kitchen. It’s not that he wants the night to end, but rather that he just needs a minute to himself and uses the idea of more snacks as an excuse for it.

He reaches into a cabinet, pulling out a half-finished bag of chips and setting them on the counter. They’re clipped with a bright red chip-clip from the grocery store and Kei thinks that because of that, they shouldn’t have gone stale yet. If it were the peak of summer, Kei might think twice, but this time of year, they should be fine.

Then, he bends down to get a large white mixing bowl from a lower cabinet. Their plates and bowls are kept in various different cabinets, though the only reason they stay somewhat organized is because of Kei.

“Done already?” You lean your hip against the counter.

“With what?” Kei struggles to keep his eyes from following the line of your body.

“Hanging out,” you smile lightly.

“Not really,” he says. “Just needed a minute and decided to get more snacks.”

“Wanna go sit outside for a bit then?”

Kei glances into the living room where the group chatters away. He’d hate to be stopped on the way.

“Relax,” you laugh. “They’re so caught up they won’t even notice that we’re gone.”

Kei furrows his eyebrows and then shrugs, swallowing his heart down with the spit that has pooled in his mouth. He follows you out of the front door, shutting it with a quiet click and heading down the steps of the complex and to the concrete wall lining the shrubbery outside. It’s the same place you’d come back to talk to him at all those weeks ago, though he is in considerably better spirits than he was then.

It’s a cool night, the gentle heat of the day completely burned off to make way for a crisp breeze. He inhales, wishing that he had brought a drink to fiddle with and sip on to distract him from his nerves.

You sit beside him, leaning back on your palms with your legs outstretched in front of you. Your hand is only a few inches from his and Kei sucks in a breath when he accidentally touches it while he gets comfortable. You only offer him a little smile in response.

“Sorry again about bringing the troops here,” you speak first.

“That’s really okay,” he says. “Contrary to popular belief, I actually really like them.”

You snort. “I hope so.”

Kei inhales louder than he intends to and when you look at him like he’s going to say something, he just holds his breath and shakes his head. The air only leaves him when you finally look away.

“Kind of a bummer though,” you start, “I was kinda excited about just hanging out with you.”

Kei’s breath catches in his throat. He swallows to move the metaphorical blockage.

“We hang out all the time though,” he says like it’s enough. Of course it’s not enough.

“Guess so,” you smile a little, though Kei can hear the distinct turn of disappointment in your voice.

“You know,” he starts, already embarrassed at what he’s going to admit. “I wanted to be your friend for a while.”

“Oh yeah?” you smile, opening up again and turning towards him. “Why?”

Kei shrugs, resisting the urge to shut down completely. It’s embarrassing admitting to someone that you wanted to know them before you actually knew them.

“You kind of reminded me of Tadashi,” he says. “And you both got along so well.”

“Tadashi? I’m nothing like Tadashi,” you laugh, shaking your head.

“What? No, you two are so similar,” Kei insists, lacing his fingers together.

“What about us is so similar?”

“Well, you’re both sociable and warm and…” Kei trails off. He can’t really think of anything else. You look at him with an expectant look in your eyes.

“See?”

Kei realizes that the two of you are not similar at all. Your warmth is where the similarity stops. He’d been likening you to Tadashi this entire time, not because the two of you are similar, but because you make him feel similar to the way Tadashi does. Safe and comfortable, though with the added addition of deeply awkward. He realizes that without the safety net of you being like Tadashi, he’s never had any ability to deny his feelings and with that they rage full force around the corner and slam into his chest like a heavy blow.

“We’re nothing like each other,” you laugh and lean back against your palms. “Though, it would be cool to be like Tadashi.”

Kei experiences the sudden realization that he doesn’t want you to be like Tadashi. Kei wants you to be like him. He wants you to be greedy and want him the same way he wants you. He wants you to be able to keep up with his turns and his moods, something he didn’t realize he wanted in the first place. If you’re like Kei, then Kei doesn’t have to be afraid of showing you the worst. You’ll have already seen it. If you’re like Kei and he loves you, then what is stopping you from loving him?

“Even if you’re not like Tadashi, that’s fine.” His cheeks burn.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, I like you all the same,” he admits quietly.

“The same? As Tadashi?” You purse your lips a little. “I thought I was a little different. Was I wrong?”

Kei wants to kiss you. Kei wants to kiss you so badly that his mouth has gone dry and his lips feel like they’ve separated from his body. Anything he’d thought about not wanting anything with you flies out of the window with your proximity. You’re so close to him. Close enough that if he leaned a little to the right, his shoulder would be against yours. You’re so close and you’re looking at him like you’re waiting for something, implying that somehow you’re different from Tadashi. Implying that you want him to like you differently than the way he likes his platonic friend.

“No, you’re different,” he says, taking the bait you’ve laid in front of him. His heart pounds and he can’t look at you. He thinks he’ll kiss you if he does.

“Am I?”

Kei can hear the smile in your voice. It makes what you’re saying sound honeyed and curved.

“Yeah, you are.”

“How so?”

Kei finally raises his head to look at you. You’re grinning, leaning towards him like you’re watching a show. He feels the way his nerves rise into his throat, pressing against the very back of his tongue. He doesn’t know how to answer or what to say. Well, he does know what to say, he just doesn’t think he can. Kei is good at thinking about emotions, but when it comes time to speak them outloud, it seems that he’s still got a padlock around his throat. So he does what any logical person would do.

Kei leans forward, pushing against his screaming nerves and trying to ignore the tremble in his hands, and kisses you. It’s awkward and his teeth click against yours before his lips fully settle against your mouth. He feels the breath you draw in, like surprise and relief mixed together, and he finds that he does the same.

He can see the way your eyes flutter closed through his barely open ones and he realizes that your lips are so warm. He screws his eyes shut when you dip your head forward to move your lips against his. Yours are so warm and soft, like satin. A kiss has never felt like this to Kei before and he finds that he wants to catalog every single one of your reactions. Maybe that’s what he could write in the notebook. Maybe he could write down every single thing that you do that leaves him winded and wanting more.

Neither of you reach for the other, but he can feel the knuckle of your pinky against his as you slowly kiss each other, tilting your heads side to side. There’s hunger within him, the need to take more than what he’s receiving and a greed he isn’t quite familiar with, but there’s also romance. It’s like a spell that’s yet to be broken, fed by the click of your mouths as they move together. Kei sighs, flooded with the relief of this kind of physical affection, of being honest with himself at how much he likes it. Kei loves the feel of your mouth. He loves the way your lips and tongue feel and he loves that they’re all that he can feel right now.

The kiss lasts longer than Kei thought it would and by the time he pulls away, you’re both steadily panting and attempting to keep your breathing even. He wants to do it again. He wants it so badly that it makes his chest swell. He wants to do that with you forever, but he swallows down the desire. It’s a temporary fix, but it’s enough for him to choke out what it is he wants to say next.

“I think I’m in really hot water,” he squeaks.

“What do you mean?” You breathe out, the playfulness from a few moments earlier long behind you.

“I think I want you way more than I thought I did,” he admits quietly, the first out loud admittance of his feelings to you.

You smile a little before speaking. “I think it’s only hot water if the other person doesn’t feel the same way.”

Your face is still so close to his. “Yeah?”

It comes out a bit desperate, like he needs reassurance. Kei does. He’s so afraid that he thinks he could die. Afraid of the spell breaking, afraid of losing whatever moment this is and being forced to return to his one-sided pining, afraid that you don’t feel the same way.

Your face moves closer to him, breath trembling lightly. “Yeah.”

You kiss him again, pressing your lips against his lightly before parting them. He’s so overwhelmed and so immediately lost in it. Kei feels the way your tongue teases the inside of his mouth and it makes him feel like a teenager again, swelling with desires and emotions that he can’t name. You move your hand over his, placing it lightly on top of his, and he reacts by lacing your fingers together and pushing forward more.

Kei wants to touch you so badly, to reach up and hold your face, to touch your waist and your legs and your chest. He wants to do it all, to feel you right here under the cover of night, but he doesn’t. Instead, he kisses you and stews in the desire, letting it swell in his chest as he listens to the clicking of your mouths. You kiss him so slowly, moving your mouth at a languid pace. It drives him crazy. He doesn’t think he’ll ever get enough of this.

“We should go back inside, I think,” you break away, your bottom lip shiny with a sheen of spit. “The others might think something’s up and Tanaka isn’t exactly good with discretion.”

Kei automatically reaches up to swipe it with his thumb. He doesn’t know where this affection comes from, where the possessive action found its origins, but he finds that he likes the way it feels to be able to do it in the first place.

“Yeah, you’re probably right,” Kei responds, though he would have been happy to continue sitting out here with you, kissing you silly.

You stand first, dusting off the back of your legs and waiting for Kei to follow suit. When he does, you reach quickly for his hand, giving it a quick squeeze before walking in front of him.

Kei is not sure how he should act when he goes inside. He’s tense all over, desperate to pick up where the two of you left off, and unsure if his face betrays that thought.

“Where’d you guys go?” Tadashi asks as Kei closes the door behind him.

In the time you’d both been gone, the living room has been transformed into something nearly unrecognizable. Empty beer cans are strewn about the tables and the blankets and pillows from the couches are now haphazardly laying around beside the couch or over people’s bodies. Then again, maybe the room always looked like this and he was just too busy thinking about how close you were to him.

Kei doesn’t know what to say. Why had they gone outside in the first place? He’s not even sure that he remembers.

“I wanted a cigarette and I made Kei come with me,” you answer evenly. “Why? You jealous?”

“Of inhaling second-hand smoke? No, thanks.” Tadashi laughs, but he tosses Kei a sideways glance. Tadashi knows him well enough to know that Kei wouldn’t voluntarily stand outside with a smoker unless he was particularly fond of them.

“Aw, man, I thought you quit?” Hinata pipes up, tilting his head.

“I did, hot stuff,” you respond, sitting down on the couch. “Don’t worry. I won’t smoke anymore.”

Hinata huffs and Kei takes the opportunity to sit down next to you.

His thigh is pressed against yours, warmth seeping through his pants and into his skin. Kei feels like he could explode. You’re so close to him again, closer than before, and he can’t stop replaying the kiss in his head. He’s desperate for it, fidgety with his desire. He keeps thinking about the hot press of your mouth and the languid motion of your tongue. All he can imagine is the few points of contact between you both, mouth and hands, and how badly he wanted it to be more. He needs it.

You touch him a few times throughout the night and the tension is so palpable that Kei is convinced he can see it. It’s like there is a rope pulled taut between the two of you. If he doesn’t stick his ground, he’ll go flying towards you, grabbing and touching and taking in the way he’s desperate to now.

After an hour, his friends begin to grow restless. Their faces are flushed with alcohol and the things they’d been amusing themselves with are no longer enough stimulation.

“Hey, we’re going out to the bars. Who’s coming?” Hinata speaks up.

A chorus of agreement rings out, but the last thing Kei wants to do is go out.

“I think I’ll probably stay back and start cleaning,” he says somewhat disdainfully. “It’s a mess in here,” Kei tosses you a small glance. It’s unintentional but he’s glad for it because Kei is hoping that you’ll stay back with him, that you both can pick up where you left off.

“I’ll stay and help too. I’ve got an early morning tomorrow anyway,” you smile and Hinata pouts.

“You guys are so boring,” he protests. “Leave the mess for tomorrow and come out with us.”

“I’ll pass, pipsqueak,” Kei scoffs.

“Fine, but don’t complain to me when you’re full of regret tomorrow,” he points a finger at Kei and then moves it over to you. “And you’re too nice for your own good.”

“Do you hear that?” You say, beginning to usher the group to the door. “I think it’s the sound of the bar and all that alcohol calling to you guys.”

“You guys are so full of shit-” Kageyama starts, speaking up for the first time in a while, but Kei just waves him out.

“Yeah yeah, let the grown ups clean while you guys have fun. We’ll see you tomorrow.”

The rope is so taut between you both that it’s unbearable and by the time the door closes, you are spinning around on your heel toward Kei.

“We’re not cleaning, right?”

Kei shakes his head and starts towards you. The tension breaks when his hands find your hips and he hungrily leans down to press his mouth against yours.

This kiss is different from the first, desperate and full of desire. It’s fast and your mouths move together quickly as he starts to walk you back towards his bedroom, his hands eagerly roaming up and down your hips. Vaguely, he acknowledges that his glasses have been moved out of place, but he pays it no mind as you turn the knob to his bedroom door with your back to it.

There’s an urgency to his movements. Kei feels it in his chest, this desperate desire to be closer, to consume everything that you’ve laid out in the palm of his hand. You stumble backwards into his room and Kei catches your shifted weight with a hand around your waist. His other hand comes up to cup your cheek, feeling the warm skin on your jaw and neck. His fingers tremble where they touch you, half out of desperate need and half out of the nerves that threaten to spill from his mouth. His lips though, are occupied with yours, clicking together, all tongue and teeth.

Kei kisses sloppily down your jaw, his lips smearing across your cheek and dipping down below your ear. He sucks a trail there, unsure if he’s leaving marks, all the way down to your collarbone. Every part of you tastes better than he’d expected it to and with every push he delivers, you pull.

You make small sounds, little pants and groans that make Kei’s hair stand on end with wanting. Your voice, so familiar and fond to him, spills out in small, breath-like bursts that make Kei want to coax more out of you. Kei’s never been one to want this way, but right now, it’s all that he feels. So much tension and impulse that he feels like he can hardly control himself.

You reach blindly behind you for the bed and Kei guides you down, placing his hand on one side of you as you sit. Then, without disconnecting your lips, he guides you up toward the wall.

He feels the cool tips of your fingers at the hem of his shirt, pulling downward and then upward to get him to take it off. Kei obliges you, leaning back on his knees and pulling it off over the top of his head. You eye him for a moment, the two of you slowing down enough as the urgency settles into something heavy and lingering.

Kei leans forward again, one of his hands reaching for your hip. He slips his fingers underneath the hem of your shirt, sliding his long fingers up your stomach as he kisses you again. You’re so soft and he can feel the way your chest heaves against his palm. His touch is feather light and he slides it up evenly until it reaches just below your breast. When you nod, Kei moves it up over your bra and he feels you shudder. Kei does the same, overwhelmed by your pliability.

He can feel the goosebumps that have raised on your skin, little pinpricks of skin that indicate that some part of you feels good. When Kei squeezes your breast, you gasp into his moan and he groans his response, letting you bite at his bottom lip.

He feels you suck at his lips and swipe your tongue along the ridge of his mouth. When he opens it to let you in, he’s overtaken by the warmth of the soft muscle. He groans, tilting his head down to kiss you deeper, letting the taste of you spread over his mouth. It’s hot and your breath fans across his face.

Kei hands drift from your breasts along the sides of your body. He feels the heave of your breath there against your warm skin, his palms resting on your waist. You raise your knees, the sides of them pressing against Kei’s hips. He shifts downwards slowly, dragging his mouth along your skin, past the cloth of your shirt.

His hands make their way from your waist to your hips as he dips lower. Kei takes off his glasses, already fogged up and in the way. When he meets your eyes, you nod your permission and Kei slips between your legs, his flat palms moving to spread your thighs.

You’re so warm and soft, so pliable in a way that Kei can’t articulate. It makes his mouth water with his desperation and he’s grown hard against the bedspread beneath him.

“Touch me,” you breathe out.

Kei nods into your stomach, looping his fingers around our waistband, and pulls down your pants. Your panties come with it and it’s with a slight wave of regret that he realizes he won’t get to see the way you stick to them.

When he sees you, his heart leaps into his throat. His eagerness and his nerves catch up to him and he lets out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. You shudder when the air hits your exposed cunt, an unintentional side effect of Kei’s nerves that has him grinding down against the bedspread.

He slides his palm to rest over your center. It’s warm and sticky, wet beyond what Kei had imagined and he gingerly presses a finger between your folds. You gasp, mouth falling open above him. Then, he slides his finger into you to the first knuckle, curling up. Kei goes deeper on the second pump, curling his whole finger inside of you and feeling the way you tighten around him.

You arch your back up off the bed and Kei groans and rolls his eyes, resting his head on the inside of your exposed thigh. He curls his fingers in you, watching the way they coat with your pleasure. His eyebrows are knit together, like he’s asking whether you like how he touches you or not, and you seem to pick up on his insecurity, nodding your head before letting it tip back against Kei’s pillows.

Kei thinks your expression is incredible. Your eyebrows pull up in the center, pretty face twisted and mouth slightly open in an expression of undeniable pleasure. Kei’s stomach winds at the look of it and he ruts his hips against the mattress to quell the growing ache of need. His fingers, which curl at a slow and even pace inside of you, are warm with your enjoyment. It leaks between his knuckles, sliding down the back of his hand like a slow moving syrup. He wonders whether you have more to give and how you taste, his gaze slinking from your face to the place just above where his fingers disappear.

He lowers his mouth to you without thinking, curious and needing the taste of it. Sure enough, you have more to give. Your voice comes quickly, a small gasp that is stifled by the back of your hand when he sucks sharply on your clit. Your hips push forward against his hands and then you arch up off the mattress with a small cry. Kei wonders if you’ve cum. He wonders if he’s sent you over the edge, but if he has, you’re taking all of it so well that he doesn’t dare stop.

The taste of you spreads on his tongue, tangy and warm. You invade his senses violently, like you are gripping his throat. Kei holds his mouth to you, pressing the length of his cock into the mattress and moving his hips like he plans to fuck it.

He moves his free hand down your thigh and onto the inside of your leg. Your skin is so soft. It’s so vulnerable, something easily pierced and bled. Kei’s pointer finger rubs gentle circles there, feeling the slight pull of the soft skin with his fingers, so thin that it almost feels like tissue paper. He’s sure that with a little pressure, you would bruise.

The thought surprises him. He works his tongue across your clit and his fingers against that gummy spot inside of you, but his mind drifts to the softness of your inner thigh, the way it would be so easy to leave a spot that might hurt later when you press on it, remind you of exactly where he was. Then, Kei pinches you on the inside of your thigh and when you cry out, tightening around his fingers with a tapered moan, he pinches you again, harder this time.

You whimper slightly, like you like it. No, you sound like you love it and Kei finds himself holding back a choked moan as he tries not to cum prematurely. He pinches along the inside of your legs and around the back. Not too much. Only when he feels like it. Only when he wants to hear what kind of sounds you’ll make.

“K-Kei wait, wait,” you pant, grabbing him by his tufts of blonde hair. It hurts. He doesn’t think you mean to hurt him, but it doesn’t matter. He likes it and he twitches in his pants.

“Huh?” He hums, detaching from your clit and slowing the movement of his fingers to a halt. Your legs shake around his handiwork. “You okay?”

“I’ll cum if you keep going like that,” you breathe, screwing your eyes shut like you’re still on the edge. “Drag it out for me, yeah?”

Kei furrows his eyebrows and sucks in a sharp breath.

“Cum if you want to.” He tilts his head down to reattach his lips.

“Not yet,” you tug at his hair. “I like chasing it.”

Kei stares at you, unblinking and awestruck. Your chest heaves and despite the pleasure on your face, you look uncomfortable as your orgasm slips away from you. Kei likes that look on your face and he finds himself growing greedy.

“Come here,” you coax him onto the mattress.

Kei watches as you slip your hands into the waistband of his jeans and pull them down, leaving him on his back with his tented boxers exposed. You crawl down his body and settle between his legs with your arms between his thighs. He shudders when you run your hands up them and he briefly sees his boxers jump.

You smile, pressing your mouth to him through his boxers. Kei can’t stifle the groan that escapes him and heat floods his face when you raise your eyebrows in response.

“You don’t have to,” he says through gritted teeth as you slip the waistband of his boxers down.

“But I want to,” you mumble, taking him in your hand and placing a kiss on the side of his dick.

Kei’s head falls back against the pillow and he swears under his breath when he feels the warmth of your mouth close around the tip of him. He jerks his head up to see, awestruck by the way your lips look around the head of his cock.

For some reason, Kei is already so sensitive. He feels everything, and when you swipe the tip of your tongue along his slit as you bob your head, he makes a noise he didn’t think he could make. His fingers knot themselves in the bed sheets, white knuckled and trembling while you bob your head over him.

Your mouth is so warm and wet. It’s a little messy, dripping down the length of him and onto his balls. Kei feels the warmth, the heat of you. He can still taste you on his tongue. Kei can still feel the stickiness left behind from your arousal on his mouth. The combination of you between his legs and the taste of you on his tongue is overwhelming.

Kei can feel his orgasm growing in his lower stomach, turning over until he’s bringing his long fingers to your head in an effort to steady himself. There’s nothing he can do but give in, watching you through damp eyes as you watch his expression.

It’s embarrassing how quickly he cums. It doesn’t take long and he teeters on the edge for a few moments before fully cresting over. Kei can’t help the way he lifts his hips from the mattress, his voice caught in his throat as it hooks on a high pitched groan. His voice cracks and he feels the way his cum collects on your tongue and across the tip of his dick in your mouth.

“Fuck,” he mutters, red faced and panting, “I didn’t mean to- I didn’t mean to finish so quickly, you’re just-”

“It’s fine,” you come up, your eyes glassed over and lust-filled. “I like making you feel good.”

“Yeah but-”

“No buts,” you crawl over him and straddle his waist. Kei winces when your weight briefly nudges his cock. “There’s still fun to be had. Can I kiss you?”

He nods and you lean down to do as you’d asked. Your tongue moves slowly against his, less desperate this time, like you’re trying to work him down and back up again. You place your hands on his chest, settling your weight down so that your bare cunt is pressed against his sensitive cock. Kei thinks he might die.

He brings his hands to your waist, the fatigue creeping from his bones as he digs the pads of his fingers into your fleshy sides. You draw in a breath when he does and it makes Kein feel like he’s tipping sideways with arousal. Everything that you do, right down to the involuntary twitch of your hips or eyebrows, is sexy.

Kei turns you over, growing hard between your legs again, and gently pins you to the mattress. He kisses you for a moment longer, his lips working clumsily across yours before he pulls away to catch his breath and find his bearings.

You chase him with your mouth, tilting your head up to kiss him. Kei feels his chest swell with arousal and his cock strains almost painfully against his pants as he peers at you. You’re so pretty. Everything about you is so pretty. On his chest, he can feel your fingers, splayed over his pecks, across his collarbone, and grazing the side of his neck. He leans closer, loving the pressure of your body and the desperation that pours from your skin.

Kei kisses you again. He kisses you the way he wanted to outside, dipping his tongue into your mouth with a desperation that he can taste. You take control back, reaching between the two of you, and Kei shifts himself upward instinctually to give you access to him. He feels your fingers fumble for him and there’s a pause in which Kei doesn’t know what to do. He wonders if this might be the part of him that you like. The awkward part, the one that doesn’t know what to do. Kei’s thoughts are interrupted by the feeling of your hand wrapping around him and tugging upward.

His head drops and a low groan escapes his lips before he can even think to stop it. Kei’d almost forgotten his sensitivity, how desperately he wants to be touched, how overwhelming it feels. He shivers, looking down at where your hand wraps around him and pumps. When he looks back up, he finds that you’re looking at his face, your eyes glassed over and observant as you commit all of his expressions to memory.

“What?” he says, letting out a shuddering breath and the slight overstimulation.

“Your face is red,” you reach up with your free hand to run your thumb along his cheek.

Kei huffs, dropping his head and you fiddle with something between the two of you.

“No,” you pick his chin up. “I like it. It’s cute.”

You tighten your grip around him and Kei feels his expression twist, a new rush of heat and desire flooding his belly as he realizes you’re sliding a condom onto him. Then, you guide the tip of him between your legs and he feels the wet press of your entrance against him.

“Christ,” he groans.

You smile slightly, shifting your hips a little and then placing your hands on his shoulders. Kei pushes forward slowly, his thighs twitching. It takes everything he has to keep from cumming again and every muscle in his body screams with a desire to let go.

Kei is so overwhelmed, partially because you feel so good, but also because there is some part of him that knows this feels different. Kei feels different about you, about being intimate with you, than he has with anyone else. There’s something alive in him, something with its own mind. Something greedy and vulnerable that stirs when your face is this close to him, when he’s buried all the way in you to the base of his cock. Emotional and sensitive, Kei feels it kick.

His first instinct is to run. Agreeing to let himself like you, to let himself do something about it, was not agreeing to letting something live inside of him. Kei’s first thought when he registers the difference is to cut it off and suffocate it so that it stops thumping against his chest. He’d grown so used to the hollow feeling that the feeling of living emotion makes him nervous, it puts him on edge. But when he pulls out a few inches and fucks back into you, the anxiety dispels into insurmountable pleasure. A pleasure Kei can’t describe, something fulfilling and whole.

He picks up his pace, letting himself do what he wants while you grip his shoulders with blunted nails. He likes the expression you wear. Truthfully, he likes all of your expressions, but this one is new. Pressure and pleasure, a newness to the feel of him inside of you that you can’t quite keep from your eyes or lips. He kisses you as if he could taste it, slipping his tongue between your lips.

“I really like you,” you mumble against his mouth, breath hot as it fans across his cheeks.

Kei’s heart hammers and his hips stutter a little.

“Me too,” he chokes, trying to think about volleyball to stave off a second orgasm. All that comes to mind though, is you.

“Are you close again?” you breathe, voice laden with pleasure.

“I have been since we started,” Kei admits.

“Cum then,” you say softly, reaching behind his head to pull his mouth back to yours. Kei likes the control you exhibit. He groans his approval.

“You first,” he mutters.

There’s this possessive part of Kei that wants to watch you fall apart on him. He wants to see it, to watch you feel good too and commit it to memory so that he can always keep it. He thinks it’s a pride thing, something attached to his desire to succeed, to his reliability. Maybe though, it’s just because he thinks it’ll look hot.

He reaches down and lifts one of your legs up by the back of your knee, pressing it down to give himself better access. You whine and Kei feels the way you clench down around him, your fingers knitting into the hair at the back of his neck. It hurts in a good way.

Kei slips his hand between you, rubbing circles on your clit to get you there faster. Frankly, he doesn’t know how much longer he can last like this, staring down at your face while it twists with pleasure. You’re so attractive to him. Everything about you is sexy. It makes Kei a little crazy.

He listens as your breathing quickens, as your voice wavers further. He feels the way your cunt begins to flutter faster, pulsing around him until you attempt to cry out and warn him. Then, you clamp down around him, arching your hips up off the mattress and pulling at his hair. Kei moves his head with you, relishing in the way you tug and scratch.

He builds up to his orgasm so fast that it hurts. There’s pressure and then the mounting feeling of nearing the top, and then the peak and crash. He cums so hard that it hurts, pushing his cock as far as it will go into you and feeling the warm spill of his cum in the condom. He moans a long, drawn out sound that you mimic, his fingers knitting into the pillow behind you and his head dropping so that his lips sit near your neck.

He lets out a shaky breath, letting himself sit inside of you for a moment. You turn his head towards yours and kiss him. It’s gentle. A smooth and languid kiss that neither of you moves to deepen. Your lips move against each other and Kei closes his eyes to savor the taste.

You tap his shoulder and Kei rolls over onto the bed beside you, snapping the condom off with a small wince and tying it up in a quick motion. He places it in the trash bin beside the bed. When he turns over, you’re already moving to slip under his arm, resting your head on his chest.

There’s a passing moment of silence, not unlike the ones you both have fallen into before and you sigh lightly against his exposed chest. Kei follows suit, watching the way you move with his breath.

His skin is sticky against yours and Kei can vaguely register the smell of sweat in the room. He doesn’t know how long it’s been since everyone left, nor does he know when they’ll be back, but he estimates that it won’t be more than an hour. Kei briefly wishes that he could pause time so that he can stay here with you, just like this.

“I’m not good at this kind of stuff,” Kei admits quietly.

“What stuff?” You ask, tracing your finger along the ridges of his lean abdomen.

“Liking people,” he says. “Dating.”

You give a small laugh. “No offense, Kei, but I could tell that from the moment I met you.”

“Shit, seriously?”

“Duh,” you breathe out. “It’s a little charming to me, though. I like that part of you.”

So it’s true. You like the parts of Kei that he’s always worried were the worst of him.

“Huh,” he says. “Could you tell?”

“That you like me?” You ask, shifting your head to look at him. “Yeah, it was obvious after we established that you didn’t hate me. I always noticed you staring in the library.”

“Really? I thought I was being a little slick with that,” Kei feels heat and color flood his face.

You let out a good-natured laugh. “People can always tell when someone’s staring, Kei. It’s like a sixth sense.”

“Good to know. Hindsight is 20/20 and all.”

Another bout of silence follows.

“You can keep staring though,” you say, “if you want to. And calling.”

“Okay,” Kei responds, “I didn’t really plan on stopping.”

“Ha, freaky,” you laugh a little and Kei reaches up to flick the side of your head. “Wanna start going out?”

Kei thinks about this for a moment. He thinks about being able to hold your hand, brush hair out of your face, watch movies on the couch and fix your breakfast the next morning. Then he thinks about not being able to do those things.

“I think I’d be a little upset if we didn’t,” he admits.

“Good,” you say. “Me too.”

He’s fighting off sleep. His eyelids are heavy and he tries to blink away the shroud of rest that’s falling over him. Kei knows you’re fighting it too. Your breathing goes in and out of that familiar breathing that comes with sleep. Kei likes the way it sounds coming from you, restful and quiet.

“We should… really get up to clean just a little,” he mumbles.

“Five more minutes,” you say softly, your voice heavy and laden with drowsiness.

“Okay,” he says.

It’s just five more minutes. Kei fights sleep to hear you breathe like this a little longer.

—

There’s a period after which Kei doesn’t know what to do with himself. Like the awkward start to a new hobby or passion, Kei finds himself enthralled with his budding relationship while simultaneously stumbling continuously along the way. You’re gracious with him though, letting him make mistakes and fumble until he finds his footing.

It’s all very awkward for him, very new. He finds that it’s easier to just do the nice things he wants to do for you than to agonize over it and slowly, he begins to grow comfortable in the relationship that took you both so long to begin.

At first, only Tadashi knew about you both. Kei thought that there was no point in hiding it from him, since you were over at the apartment all the time. Of course, Tadashi somehow already knew. That’s how it usually goes anyway, and Kei is relieved to find that his internal change did not trigger some global shift that would turn his life upside down. Everything is normal, save for the fact that Kei now tries to love without hindrance.

Kei discovers that he’s possessive. That’s a new trait of his that he didn’t know belonged to him. Before you, before Kei had found something he so desperately wanted to keep, he’d been rather detached. Possessiveness was rare because Kei hardly ever got attached enough to want. Now though, he wants so badly that it hurts. You lean into it. Kei suspects that you like it when he wards off people who hit on you, when he pouts a little because he wants to be close to you, when he gets a little jealous. Kei doesn’t really mind it either. After all, despite his possessiveness, he never feels insecure. The both of you make sure of that.

This sunny period with you, the one Kei worried would only last a week, drifts easily from one month into two and before he knows it, it’s been five. Kei had worried about that fundamental change. The one imperceivable to the human eye. He’d worried that slowly, it would begin to spoil what is so good between the two of you.

“Kei,” you snap him out of it, placing a hand on his shoulder, “you okay?”

He sets down his cup of tea, barely touched. “Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?”

“Don’t tell me you’re getting cold feet?” You give him a wry smile. “This was your idea, after all.”

“Yeah, well it was a pretty shit idea actually,” he breathes, “My parents aren’t exactly easy.”

“You want to cancel?” You ask, your eyebrows pulling up in a clumsy attempt to hide your disappointment. Kei can see right through it.

“No,” he shakes his head. “I want you to meet them. I just don’t want you to meet them.”

The truth of it is that Kei would like to cancel. In an ideal world, one where the sun rises on the opposite side of his bedroom window, he’d forget the whole thing and take you out to get dinner and see a movie. Things would be simpler that way, less uncomfortable for the both of you. But as uncomfortable as it is, Kei wants you to be a part of their lives too. You’re too important to not introduce to his parents and Kei can’t see it any other way, though he’d like to.

You snort. “What does that even mean?”

Kei gives you a pointed and somewhat irritated look.

“Okay, sorry,” you raise your hands defensively and walk over to place them on his shoulders. “I know you’re worried, but I think it’s going to be okay. I’m excited.”

Kei huffs out a laugh, unable to vocalize his nerves in their totality. “Excited to meet my dysfunctional, divorced parents that kind of hate each other?”

“Yup. I’m excited to meet the people who raised you.”

Kei smiles a little. “You should meet Akiteru, then,” It’s an exaggeration, but for some reason the prospect of seeing both of his parents together has him feeling a little more bitter than usual, even if it was his idea.

You give him a little grin through narrowed eyes. There’s an understanding that passes from you to him, like you’re acknowledging that you haven’t forgotten what he’d told you nearly six months ago. Kei feels the tension in his shoulders relax a little.

His parents are already at the restaurant when he arrives. It’s a swanky Italian place. The kind you go to on birthdays or for anniversaries, where the pasta dishes are things like lobster mushroom ravioli or truffle oil fettucini in tiny portions. Kei made sure to book somewhere that his parents would have trouble making a scene in, not that they ever had much of a mind for decorum when they were married. He’s surprised to find them chatting cordially when you both arrive.

“Kei,” his mother stands from the table and crosses to give him a hug. He pats her back gently.

“Hi Mom,” Kei responds and she gives him a small smile.

Kei’s dad adjusts the lapel of his suit, the same one he’s had for years, and reaches to give him a hug around one shoulder.

“Guys,” he inhales, “This is my partner, _____.”

You grin at Kei and then introduce yourself formally to his parents. Kei watches in awe as you blend right in, like you’ve known them for many years. He sits down while trying to keep the nerves from his face.

“We’re so happy to meet you,” his mother starts, “Kei’s never introduced us to any of his partners before.”

“I’m the first?” You smile a little, raising an eyebrow at Kei as if to tease him.

“There really haven’t been that many to begin with,” Kei grumbles as if that somehow makes it better.

You laugh again and the ball of conversation begins rolling. His mother tells you how pretty you are and his father nods a quieter approval. They talk about his university’s graduation ceremony, which they attended separately, as if they were together the entire time and then ask about your major, if you graduated with him, where you plan on going. You tell them what you want to do and that you want to go wherever Kei goes. He marvels at how smoothly the evening moves onward.

There are moments where the tension in his family becomes obvious. Little swells or comments that bring up a sour or shameful memory that cannot be ignored. Moments when the air thickens and it feels like the hammer is about to come down. It never does though. The tension, rather than snapping, simply fades away.

He’d expected everything to blow up for some reason. Kei had expected that, like his childhood, the restaurant dishes would end up smashed on the floor. The glassware always ended up broken in the house, why shouldn’t they be broken here to shatter the illusion of things being good? He braces himself for a ball that never drops.

It takes him until the ride home, after a successful dinner, to realize that the dishes haven’t been smashed in years. Not since he was fourteen and his parents fought for custody. Not since his mother got remarried to her now husband almost 6 years ago and his father met his new wife. Kei wonders why he still feels like he lives in that house. The one his parents were at their worst in. Why can’t he feel like he lives in the apartment he rents with Tadashi?

“I think that went well,” you say softly on the drive back.

Kei nods his agreement. “I think so too.”

You don’t bring up the fact that they didn’t fight, or that they spoke about their new kids with each other as if they were old friends. You don’t accuse Kei of being wrong, of being paranoid even though he most definitely was.

“I’m glad that I got to meet them,” you say. “You look so much like your mom.”

“Really?” Kei asks.

“Yeah, you’ve got her eyes and her nose,” you smile a little. “It makes you two look similar.”

“Huh,” he says. “I never really gave that much thought.”

Kei turns the idea that he has his mother’s face over in his head. He’d spent so much time dreading that he was like them on the inside, that he never paused to consider the outside. So much of his life has been spent worrying that he’s just like them. That he breaks the plates and lashes out and acts cruelly even when he’s trying to love. But he has his mother’s eyes and for some reason that unsettles him. It’s like evidence.

“You don’t really act like them though,” you say as if on cue. “You’re a little gentler.”

“Me? Gentle?” Kei scoffs.

“Yeah!” you say. “I mean, sure you’re prickly, but there’s a goodness to you that’s really obvious if you look.”

Goodness. What a strange word to use to describe someone. Kei thinks that if there’s any goodness in him, if there’s anything that hasn’t been tainted by his parents’ sour personalities, it’s from Akiteru. Kei likes to believe that whatever good he got was from him. No matter how strained his relationship with him might be now, Kei is certain of that.

“That’s a relief,” he admits in a flat tone.

After a long pause, he speaks again. “Thanks.”

“For what?” You laugh.

“Bearing with me… and with them,” he says. “Couldn’t have been easy.”

“It was easy,” you say. “Because I wanted to meet them. And I care about you.”

Kei feels color rise to his cheeks. He turns to look in the sideview mirrors as he pulls the car into a parking spot in his apartment complex’s garage.

“You say that stuff so easily,” he huffs.

“What? That I care about you?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, I do,” you laugh a little.

Kei’s face grows hotter and he distracts himself by putting the car into park and taking the key out of the ignition.

“Me too,” he says quietly, waiting for you to catch up so that he can take your hand in his. “Sorry that I don’t say it a lot.”

“Not to be rude,” you say, “but even if you never said it at all, it would be obvious. You’re kind of a sucker.”

Kei supposes that that’s true and he gives a small laugh before nudging your shoulder with his. The parking garage is humid and stuffy, but he holds your hand in it anyway.

—

You’re half asleep in bed beside him and your breathing comes in even sweeps the way it does just before you fall asleep. Kei listens to it for a moment, admiring the sound of it and the way your chest feels expanding against his.

He thinks about dinner, about how good it feels to have introduced you. How real it makes this relationship feel despite the uneasiness surrounding his familial situation. Kei thinks about his parents. He thinks about their inability to be good for each other. He thinks about the worst of them, something he’s familiar with, before thinking about the best of them. Kei imagines the way their faces looked at dinner, talking about the children they’re raising properly. They’re good people, they just made each other bad. Molecular shifts that changed them for the worst. The notebook theory in its most frightening form. But they were good too.

Kei thinks about loving you. His reluctance to do so originally isn’t quite beyond him yet. He’s unsure, in fact, if he’ll ever really get past the fear of the fall, the fear of becoming what his parents made each other. But he also thinks about his promise to love you for real. Love is not something that Kei does. He knows now that it's something that happens to him, like it happened to his parents. They loved each other once, even if it made them so blind that they couldn’t see just how bad it made them.

Kei still resents the fact that he was born to fix a marriage that never would have worked in the first place. He resents being a fix rather than a gift, but at the very least, his existence is proof that his parents cared enough about their family to try. Even if it was misguided, at least they tried even a little.

In the quiet after of an emotionally charged evening, loving you seems like an easier task for him now. It’s not hard to love you. What’s hard, Kei thinks, is not hurting you. He carries a lot of baggage that, for a long while, felt like too much. Kei thinks he can manage if it’s for you. He’ll bear the brunt of it. He’ll put in the work.

Yes, Kei is his parents’ son, but he’s also Tadashi’s friend, Akiteru’s brother, the person who loves you. He doesn’t live in the house with a bin full of shards and no glassware anymore.

“Are you awake?” He whispers across the pillow.

“Mhm,” you hum, pushing your cheek into his arm.

“Let’s move in together,” he says.

You tense against him and slowly attempt to blink away sleep. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I’m sure,” he responds. “I want to live with you.”

“Okay then,” you smile a little. “Let’s do it.”

—

In the fall, when his lease with Tadashi ends and his friend gives him a tearful, yet somewhat silly goodbye, Kei moves into your new shared apartment. Two small rooms in a modest part of town, a shared kitchen and living room, one bathroom, a mismatch of furniture from both of your old places, and an empty fridge. The first night is spent eating take out on the floor with you in front of a TV with no proper stand. Kei has never been happier.

And in the morning, when the sun comes through the slats of his window, broken up into gentle dots by the orange-leaved trees outside, Kei rises slowly. He rises gently. Kei doesn’t want to wake you, not before he’s made breakfast. He pads out to the kitchen, where boxes are strewn about, half unpacked, and grabs the little brown notebook from the box it’s been temporarily living in. In it, he writes a grocery list full of the things you like. It’s a good enough reason, a good enough change.

The notebook theory.

#tsukishima x reader #tsukishima kei x reader #tsukishima x reader smut #tsukishima kei x reader smut #hq x reader #tsukishima smut #tsukishima kei smut #tsukishima kei fic #[ 📕 – writing ]#she is finally finished i hope u enjoy and that u find it romantic and fulfilling #tw: overstimulation #i may add more warnings and such if i remember to #and pls lmk if i forgot any

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munson-blurbs · 8 months

Text

Single Dad!Eddie x Fem!Reader Series

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15

Summary: You and Eddie finally get some much-needed alone time, and a confrontation at the Hawkins Preschool talent show tests your commitment to each other.

Warnings: smut (18+ only, minors DNI), protected p in v, fingering, oral (m! receiving), lil bit of edging, broken condom, breeding kink, mentions of Eddie's past, bullying, fighting, Jason Carver's mere existence, mostly fluff and smut before the angst of the next two chapters

WC: 9.2k

Chapter 15/20

Divider credit to @saradika Cutie pie Eddie pic credit to @/sunceddie

You wake up to an alarm set a full hour later than it typically is on a Friday morning, and the extra rest has you walking on air. Or maybe this newfound floatiness comes from knowing Eddie will be arriving soon, the two of you playing hooky from work to spend the day together. Your insides ignite with a rebellious fire, like you’re skipping class to smoke cigarettes underneath the bleachers, rather than taking a paid sick day that you’ve rightfully accrued.

Sunlight streams through the window, just a bit brighter than the usual smears of pink and orange that you normally see when you awaken. And while you still have to drag your yet-to-be-caffeinated body out of bed, the walk to the bathroom seems slightly less daunting.

You can’t let Eddie in fast enough when the intercom buzzes thirty minutes later. You were never naïve to the fact that dating a parent would mean having less privacy; what you didn’t know was how strongly you’d crave him.

Your hands are all over him the moment he steps through the door, simultaneously too much and not enough. Fingers lazily drape across the nape of his neck, and you can feel that his hair is already frizzy from the early April rain. Your breath hitches when you catch a glimpse of the burgeoning outline along the seam of his gray sweatpants.

His lips find yours easily, aiming to meet in the middle, but you press on your toes and bring your core to his. Your pajama top is thin; not sheer, but flimsy enough that he can feel the way you react to the chill of his leather jacket.

“Hello to you, too,” he murmurs with a laugh, muffled by a kiss that catches him off-guard. “I was gonna ask if you wanted to grab breakfast first, but—”

You shake your head, grabbing his wrist and pulling him towards the bedroom. “Sex first, food later.”

“Yes ma’am.” He uses his free hand to apply a quick smack to your ass, mesmerized at the way the supple flesh ripples underneath the flannel pants. Jesus, you’ve got him half-hard and you’re still in your pajamas.

He sits on the side of the bed, and you climb to straddle him, your inner thighs nudging his outer. “Been thinking about you,” you say, tugging his earlobe between your teeth.

Eddie pulls you even closer, one hand snaking up your shirt to cup your breast. He’s still cold from the rain and early morning frost, and his touch has your nipple pebbling. “What about me?”

“Well,” you trill, starting to slowly grind against the tented fabric of his pants. He exhales, a shiver of anticipation coursing through his veins. “I believe I promised my rockstar a reward for his amazing gig.” Your thoughts flit back to the night of Will’s party, when you’d snuck backstage and gotten a glimpse of him, his body pulsating with nerves that had almost immediately quelled at your touch. Another sensation had swept over him then, but that was an entirely different type of flutter.

Eddie nudges his nose against yours, a smile tugging on the corners of his mouth. “Your rockstar?” He adores the phrasing. Yours. Belonging to you. And you belong to him; he won’t ever allow you to forget it. “What kind of reward did my favorite groupie have in mind?”

You slide off of him, giggling at the pout he gives you as your body loses contact with his. “Patience, Rockstar,” you warn him, though it’s difficult to contain yourself when you’re salivating just being eye-level with his erection. Your fingers dig into his waistband, and for the second time today, you’re glad for his choice of clothing. You don’t think you could handle buttons and zippers and belt buckles. Not today.

He hisses when your palm brushes along his hardened length, stiffening even while covered by his boxer briefs. A small wet patch marks his tip, leaking precum, and you press a chaste kiss to it. Almost instantly, you feel the tendrils of his thigh hair against your bare arms as his legs reflexively snap shut like a Venus flytrap catching its prey.

“Too much?” you mumble against his happy trail. While you relish in the thought of overstimulating him, you want to keep him on edge as long as you can.

Eddie shakes his head, curls scratching against his shoulders. “Jus’ wasn’t expecting it. ‘Cause you were using your hands, but then I felt your…never mind, I’m gonna shut up now.” He settles back into the mattress and eagerly awaits your next move.

You don’t make him wait long, lips drawn to his shaft with a magnetic force. You only stop to shimmy his underwear down his legs, tossing them to the corner of the room. His cock is flush against his tummy; you catch yourself staring at the dusting of wispy curls that trail from his upper groin down to his heavy sack.

Your dominant hand wraps around the base while the other leans on his thigh for balance. You lean in and spit, letting your saliva dribble down his length before flattening your tongue to lick up the pearly bead forming at the tip. Eddie’s abdominal muscles contract and his fists clench, never taking his eyes off of the beautiful woman on her knees for him.

He lets out a soft moan as you hollow out your cheeks to take more of him into your mouth. A string of syllables that barely resemble words escapes him. “Mmm, yes, oh, sh–fucking hell–thas’ it…” He twists the bedsheets between his fingers, inhaling sharply as your tongue glides up and down his cock. “S’pretty, fuck, gorgeous girl.” He watches intently, staving off blinks so he doesn’t miss a moment of him disappearing between your lips.

He’d once thought that he could never want more than sloppy post-gig hook-ups in dive bar bathrooms with girls whose names he’d never learned, though he wouldn’t have made an effort to remember them anyway. Girls who had only offered their mouths so they could lay claim to his body; the opportunity to brag that they’d blown Eddie Munson before he got famous.

That was before you, before you’d shown him the intoxicating mixture of longing and belonging, of lust and…

You continue drawing him closer and closer to his orgasm, nose grazing his thatch of pubic hair. His hips buck slightly, but your mouth is so full of him that it threatens to evoke your gag reflex.

“Shit, ‘m sorry,” Eddie blurts out, unfurling a hand from the sheets to cup your cheek. He pulls out, allowing you to take a deep breath.

You shake your head. “I liked it,” you tease with a wicked grin, wasting no time assuming your previous position.

“Oh, fuck,” Eddie throws his head back. “You like gagging on my dick? Fucking hell, babe.”

“Mhm.” The gentle vibration has him twitching, and you know he can’t last much longer. You bring your attention to his tip, sucking and giving soft kitten licks while your hand takes care of the rest of his length. He’s so painfully hard that you wouldn’t be surprised if he stayed that way long after finishing.

“Jus’…just like that. Oh, fuuuuuck,” he groans, silently calling upon every ounce of willpower in his body to keep his pelvis still so he doesn’t disturb the beautiful rhythm you’ve found. “Gonna cum…shit, baby, if you don’t want it in your mouth, you gotta stop now.”

But you do want it in your mouth, so you don’t stop, feeling warm ropes adorning your tongue just seconds later. He’s panting, chest heaving as though he was the one putting in the effort, but he still notices the way you swallow his thick load without missing a beat.

“Did you just…oh, my God. You’re perfect.” He throws his hands up in mock defeat. “I can’t…nothing I do will ever compare to you, I swear.” He motions for you to lay down next to him, and immediately climbs on top of you, the sweat from his chest transferring to your shirt. “Off,” he mumbles, pulling it over your head before you get the chance to do it yourself.

His lips swoop down to your left breast, tongue flickering over the nipple, and his dominant hand travels into your panties and expertly finds your clit. You let out a tiny whimper, barely audible over Eddie’s own grunts, finding pleasure in making you feel good.

“This body,” he mumbles, mouth still attached to your chest, “has me in a goddamn chokehold. It’s all I think about.” That isn’t quite true; he certainly spends plenty of time daydreaming of you, though it isn’t always in such compromising positions. Sometimes, you’re sleeping next to him in bed as he presses gentle kisses to the nape of your neck. Other times, he’ll be cooking dinner and picture you passing him the salt or handing him a serving spoon to dish out whatever noodle-based concoction he’s conjured up. Whatever he’s doing, he imagines you by his side.

“Can you kiss me?” Your request is timid but dripping with need.

Eddie nods, bringing himself to eye level with you and closing the gap between your faces. You taste of minty toothpaste and of him, and he curses himself for diving in headfirst without remembering to kiss you. “M sorry,” he apologizes for the second time that morning, and you forgive him with a soft bite to his lower lip.

Your arms rest on his shoulders and your legs wrap around his calf muscles, desperate to remain as close as possible at all times. No, you can’t stay like this forever, so you’ve got to make it count. “Need you inside me, Eddie.” Your voice nearly cracks, tears pricking at your lash line as the craving for him grows stronger. “Please.”

Eddie musters up a terse laugh. “Sweetheart, I just came, like, five minutes ago. You gotta give me a second to bounce back.” He lowers himself so he can whisper in your ear, “let me take care of you while we wait, hm?”

As soon as you nod, he’s yanking down your pajama pants and panties in one fluid motion. You can’t miss the way his eyes light up once you’re fully on display for him, taking in every centimeter of your body like his existence depends upon it. He starts to shimmy his way down, but your murmured “mm-mm” captures his attention.

“Still want you kissing me,” you say, gazing adoringly into his deep brown eyes. “Maybe you could just use your fingers?”

His instinct is to protest; he’s been desperate to taste you again ever since his tongue last touched the most intimate part of you, but he can’t deny you what you want. He’ll do just about anything to keep a smile on your face.

Without further hesitation, Eddie’s lips are on yours. He braces himself on his elbows as his hands cradle your cheeks. You can feel the heat of his cock, still spent and flaccid, against the top of your thigh. He shifts slightly so he can press one thick finger into your pussy, dragging in and out so deliciously that you barely notice his tongue slipping into your mouth, deepening the kiss as you moan.

“Y’like that?” It’s a gratuitous question; he can feel how much you like it in the way you’re clenching around him. “Gonna make my girl feel s’good.”

“Call me your girl again,” you whine, punctuating the plea with a gentle buck of your hips.

Eddie grins, ducking his head where your neck meets your collarbone and sucking lightly. It takes every ounce of strength he possesses not to mark you. He studies the moisture left behind by his lips and wishes it was the exquisite shades of blue and indigo that form when someone’s been claimed.

He slides a second finger inside you. “My sweet girl,” he coos, just a hint of patronization laced within his deep voice, “you like being mine? Belonging to me?”

Your stomach flips at his words; a gnawing hunger for Eddie Munson. “Love it. I…I love being your girl.” You allow your mind to clear, absorbing his gaze, his touch, his skin. The graceful arch of your back beckons him to move faster, tongue peeking from between his plush lips as he concentrates on your orgasm.

Each stroke within you inches you closer to euphoria. Eddie’s thumb is pressed to your clit, cementing his determination to tip you over the edge. He hits all the right spots, committing them to memory; his own personal pathway to the heavens.

It’s your turn to grab onto the bed sheets like a lifeline as pleasure surges through you. Your lips coat his in a warm layer of “Eddie, Eddie, Eddie,” the praise a victory chant to him. He waits until your eyelids flutter back open and your breathing steadies before taking his fingers from your center and into his mouth, licking your release off of his skin like a delicacy.

Your body may be splayed out on the bed, but your mind is adrift; its only focus is the float down from the high Eddie’s brought you to. If it weren’t for the throbbing reminder pressed to your leg, you might float right into the atmosphere.

You summon the willpower to prop yourself up on your elbows, watching intently as he fists himself to temporarily ease the ache.

“Why’re you doing that when ‘m right here?” you mumble, wetting your lower lip with a swipe of your tongue. You can only hope that there’s some semblance of a smile in your intoxicated expression. “Unless you…prefer your hand?”

“Fuck, no,” he grumbles, curls dancing along his shoulder blades as he loosens his grasp to dig through your top drawer. He shoves aside stray prescription bottles and various knickknacks that you’ve been meaning to go through until he finds what he’s been looking for.

He snatches up the teal box and practically tears the cardboard in half trying to open it. The snake of foil packets tumbles out and he scrambles for them, but you’re faster.

Wordlessly, you rip off one packet and carefully tear off the top. Eddie hisses as you roll the condom down his hardened length, more than ready to be inside you.

“Wanna ride you,” you tell him, pressing your palms to his soft pecs. “‘S that okay?”

“Is that—baby, if I ever say no to that offer, there’s something seriously wrong with me,” he laughs, already laying back on the bed. His hair splays across the pillow, brown curls swirling atop the cotton pillowcase like Van Gogh’s Starry Night.

Eddie inhales sharply as you sit above him, sheathed cock pressed to your heat in anticipation. He reaches out and grabs your breasts, one in each hand, kneading them in his palms. His thumbs brush over your nipples, gauging your reaction before giving them a small pinch.

Your moan, coupled with the way you grind against him, confirms your satisfaction, but he still asks, “Y’like when I do that?”

You offer him a little smirk, cocking your brow as you cheekily reply, “You tell me.”

He doesn’t have time to respond before you lift yourself and gradually sink down onto him, soaking in every moment of the delectable stretch. Bracing yourself on his chest, you feel him bottom out so he’s filling you entirely.

“Fuck, Sweetheart.” His hands move from your chest to your hips as he helps you adjust to the newfound fullness. “So tight. Feels‘mazing.”

“Just wanna take care of you, Eds. You’re so good to me; I wanna be good to you.” You bounce up and down, moving your hips so no part of your walls remains untouched by him.

He’s mesmerized at the jiggle of your flesh as it connects with his, momentarily rendering him speechless before he regains some composure. “You are. You’re so, so good for me. Can never get enough of my girl.”

You clench around him at the title ‘my girl’, earning you a smack to your ass. The sting makes you whimper, and he swiftly delivers another.

“You’re gonna make me cum too soon,” he huffs, blown-out pupils drifting from your eyes to where your bodies are joined.

You pause your movements to lean down, allowing him impossibly deep within you. “If it’s too much,” you murmur into his ear, hoping your edge-teetering tremble is hidden enough to effectively tease him, “maybe I should just…stop.” You slide your hips forward until only his tip breaches your hole.

Eddie’s jaw drops in complete disbelief. “You…you can’t fuckin’ do that to me.” You expect him to push the rest of his cock inside you and thrust until he’s completely spent, so you’re caught off-guard when he pulls out entirely. “All fours. Now.” He emphasizes his request with another spank, this one harder than the rest.

You oblige, palms pressed into the mattress and toes curled as you await him. He taps his shaft against your bottom once, twice, three times, and then plunges into your warmth.

“Ah—fuck—Eddie!” you cry, feeling the telltale twitch that informs you he’s close. Really fucking close. And then another sensation—a soft pop.

He realizes what it is before you do. “Fuckin’ condom broke!” he grumbles, pulling out again—even more begrudgingly than before—and tossing the split rubber to the floor. He opens a new one and rolls it on with lightning speed, eager to be enveloped in you once again.

“Wish we didn’t have to use those,” you mumble, willing yourself to stay steady despite the push from his pistoning hips. “Be so much easier without them.”

Picturing you taking him raw—you wanting to take him raw—is the last straw. “Yeah? You wanna feel all of me, baby?” he growls, nearly inaudible over the sound of his pelvis colliding with your ass. “Want me blowing my load so fuckin’ deep inside you?”

“Y-Yes,” you stammer, feeling that delicate wave approaching the shoreline, desperate to crest. “That’s exactly what I want, Eddie.”

“Keep saying my name,” he orders, wrapping one arm around you so his middle finger lays on your clit. Every part he touches makes you weaker for him, scavenging for the relief of release.

“Eddie, feels s’good,” you moan, legs threatening to crumple beneath you. “No one makes me feel like this ‘cept you, fuck, Eddie!”

You finish around him, squeezing him until he’s spilling into the condom with a primal groan of your name. He stays draped over you for a beat before flopping back onto the bed.

“You are…” he turns to you and grins as he searches for the right word, “spectacular.” He gingerly removes the barrier from his dick, tying it in a knot and tossing it into the trash can next to your nightstand. “C’mere.”

You lay on his chest, the sweat cooling as it hits your cheek. “Did you work up an appetite?” you tease, kissing just below his tattoo of a demonic head, “I can grab us some cereal, or we might have some frozen Eggos I could throw in the toaster.”

Eddie smiles so wide it threatens to escape the confines of his cheeks. “Sex and breakfast? You spoil me, Sweetheart.”

“Yeah, well; we need energy to power us through round two.” You scoot upwards to nuzzle into the crook of his neck, the salt of his perspiration tangy on your lips. “Give me a few minutes, okay? Do you like syrup on your waffles?”

“And butter?” he asks with a hopeful smile, peering at you through long eyelashes that would have had you darting to Bradley’s Big Buy if you didn’t already have a stick of Land O’ Lakes in the fridge.

You roll your eyes playfully. “Yes, Your Majesty,” you say, giving his bare thigh a small tap. “Would you also care for some freshly-squeezed orange juice? I can have the chef whip some up right away.”

Eddie throws his head back and laughs, slowly pushing himself up so he can help you in the kitchen. It dawns on him that he hasn’t felt this kind of peace after sex before; his mind has always been clouded with fears of getting too attached, of saying the wrong thing, of deluding someone into thinking he’s enough.

“God, I love you.” The words tumble out before he can stop them, and he freezes in place, one leg through his underwear. “Fuck, I mean–”

“It’s okay,” you rush to reassure him, noting the red tinge forming on the tips of his ears. “I’d say that to anyone who offered me breakfast foods, too.” You give him room to accept the out, to brush off his confession as a slip of the tongue. There’s no use in awarding merit to an accidental comment, regardless of what your skipped heartbeat tells you.

He considers it, every synapse and neuron firing at warpspeed. Maybe he could convince himself that it was an accident if it was the first time he’d felt this, the way your sunshine radiates through him and warms him from within. But that was far from the truth.

“No,” he finds himself saying, grasping onto every morsel of confidence he can find, “it’s not because of the food. I love you.”

Your voice catches in your throat. You want to believe that he’s reciprocating your feelings, but something nags at you. “Are you sure it’s not because we just had sex? Because sometimes that—”

“No,” Eddie repeats himself, unfolding the waistband of his boxer briefs and walking to you. “Because it wasn’t about sex when you calmed me down after the parent-teacher conference. It wasn’t about sex when you taught Harris how to read and bowl and be a better person than I’ll ever be. It wasn’t about sex when you cheered me on during our last gig, and it wasn’t about sex when I saw you holding Ettie.” He takes a deep breath and holds your hands as he gazes into your eyes. “And even after having sex, it isn’t about sex. It’s about you being the one for me. I love you, I love you, I love you.” He kisses your forehead, then your cheek, and finally your lips.

“I love you, too, Eddie.”

Just five words, six syllables, and he’s a goner. Seriousness melts into a sappy smile as he cradles your cheeks and presses the tip of his nose to yours. “Holy shit, we’re in love.”

You kiss him, tongue nudging his as your torsos meld together. If your stomach wasn’t gnawing for something to eat, you’d start round two right then and there.

Throwing on just a shirt and panties, you lead him into the kitchen before either of you can crawl back into bed. His hands never leave your body, snaking around your waist as you rifle through the freezer for the familiar yellow box. His head rests on your shoulder as you drop the waffles into the toaster and press the lever down.

“Eds?”

“Yes, my love?” he murmurs, pecking a soft kiss behind your ear. You both could have sworn that there was nothing better than him calling you ‘my girl,’ but you’re unashamed to stand corrected.

“Could you make yourself useful and grab some plates? Maybe get the syrup or butter?” you tease, noting the dramatic pout developing on his face. “What?”

“I’m keepin’ you warm,” he protests, sliding his hands over the cotton fabric of your faded t-shirt and grabbing your breasts. “And you’re not wearing a bra, so I gotta hold ‘em for you.”

He eventually obliges, setting two Chinette plates on the countertop and padding over to the refrigerator. He plucks the condiments from the side door and places them in the center of the table.

“Cups, too,” you remind him with a cheeky grin, pointing to a cabinet to your right. “No drinking out of the carton in my house.”

“Bossy this morning, aren’t we?”

The toaster chimes a charismatic ding! as the waffles jump out of their slots, and you carefully drop both onto one plate. “Here ya go,” you chirp, extending your arm so he can take his breakfast.

“Where’s yours?” His brows pinch together in confusion, a sly smile stretching his lips. “Don’t tell me I didn’t make you work up more of an appetite back there. Shit, shoulda had you ride me longer–”

Your hip collides with his in a purposeful shove. “I’m getting mine ready now. Go sit and eat, you horndog.”

Eddie drops the plate on the counter so quickly that the Eggos nearly fly off, pulling you from behind for a hug that squeezes all the air from your lungs. You squeal as he bites your neck and barks into it, solidifying that he has indeed earned the new nickname you’ve bestowed upon him.

He takes one of his waffles and places it on your empty plate. “We can eat together.”

You grab the orange juice from the fridge, giving the carton a shake before pouring the contents between the two glasses. It’s not until you sit down that you remember: “Oh, shit—utensils.” You start to get back up, but Eddie puts a hand out in a silent bid for you to stay seated, shuffling back to the kitchen. The drawer rattles as he pulls with just a bit too much strength, and he comes back with two knives and a single fork.

“You only got one—” you start, but he shakes his head.

“Don’t need it.” With that, he cuts off a hunk of butter and slathers it on top of his waffle, knife scraping against the little squares. He slathers every square inch in syrup, folds the waffle in half, and takes an exaggeratedly large bite.

“Eddie Munson!” you lightly chastise, still in shock at what you’ve witnessed. “Did you just eat that like a taco?”

“Sí, señorita.”

You shake your head in disbelief. “Oh, my God, I’m in love with a barbarian.” You reach for the bottle of Aunt Jemima and drizzle the sticky-sweetness onto your waffle. “What else is going on with you?” you ask, cutting the food into strips and spearing it with your fork. “Work’s good?”

“Work’s great, actually.” He starts to bring the waffle to his mouth but pauses just before taking a bite. Syrup drops onto the plate with a plop. “I almost forgot to tell you! The regional manager asked me to go to this thrift market in Indianapolis in a few weeks—all on the company’s dime—and try to snag some vintage records.”

“Eds, that’s amazing!” You leap up from your chair and lean in to kiss his syrupy lips.

He licks a smudge of butter from the side of his thumb. “Oh, but that’s not even the best part,” Eddie grins triumphantly. “The market just so happens to fall during spring break, and I was hoping you could join us?” His bare foot nudges yours under the table. “That is, if you think you can survive an entire weekend running after Harris?”

Your jaw drops in mock-offense. “One of us chases after children–plural–every day. Besides,” you add, taking a swig of juice, “Harris isn’t the one I’m worried about.” You gesture at his partially-demolished breakfast. “At least when he eats like this, he has the excuse of being a child.”

His reply is a flick of his left middle finger, his right hand busy jamming the remaining waffle-taco into his mouth. “And yet,” he retorts with his mouth full, “you can’t seem to get enough.”

He’s got you there: all you’ve ever wanted is sitting in front of you now, the corners of his chocolate-brown eyes crinkling as he stands. You allow your eyes to roam his body; not with lust, but adoration. Love.

Your cheek yearns to be pressed to his chest, your hand resting where the soft pudge of his tummy barely rolls over the elastic waistband of his boxer briefs. Your legs crave the connection of intertwining with his. You need his arms, biceps strong from lugging around music equipment and holding his son, wrapped around your torso and keeping you impossibly close. Keeping you safe.

You want to spend hours asking about the stories behind the tattoos that adorn his chest, whether meaningful or the result of sheer boredom. You want to curl up on the sofa and put on a movie, absorbing none of it as you spend the entire duration lost in his lips.

The brush of his thumb against your knuckles stirs you from your roaming thoughts.

“Can I ask you something?”

Eddie sits up a bit straighter, hand never leaving yours. “Shoot.”

“Is it…” you fumble for the right words, “why are you like this now?”

“I’m sorry?” His brows knit together in obvious confusion. “Why am I like…what?”

“This,” you repeat, gesticulating at the man before you, warm and tender and completely unlike the stranger you’d hooked up with nearly eight months ago. “Why is the guy who once kicked me out of his apartment currently having breakfast with me half-naked and inviting me on a trip with his son?” Your tone is inquisitive, curious, and Eddie heaves a silent sigh of relief when he doesn’t detect a hint of judgment.

He doesn’t answer your question outright; instead, he poses his own: “Do you not believe that I love you?” He bites his lower lip, mind churning with the early memories you’d made together, the ones he wishes he could lock away and never remember.

Your heart lurches at your accidental implication. “I do! Shit, Eddie, I know you love me. And I love you, too.” You pause to lift his hand to your mouth, leaving the gentlest of kisses along his fuzzy knuckles. “I guess I just wanna know why you even let yourself love me. Why you didn’t stick to the Cat-and-Mouse. Why…why you chose me.”

He exhales, an incredulous huff of laughter passing through his lips. “You wanna know why I started only having one-night stands? Or why I stopped?”

“Both?” you try.

“So, um,” his eyes look everywhere but at you, “I never really got attention until I moved to Chicago and started playing with that band. All of a sudden, women wanna sleep with me, and I don’t have to, like, beg them.” He chuckles and shakes his head. “But they didn’t really want to fuck Eddie Munson; they just wanted to fuck the lead singer and guitarist of Hard Knox. Didn’t matter if it was me or some other random guy.

“One night, I’m…y’know…with this one girl, and I asked her to say my name.” His cheeks tinge red and he swallows hard. “And she looks at me with these wide eyes, and I realized she didn’t even fucking know it.”

“Did you know hers?” The question comes out before you can stop it, but you already know the answer.

He rubs his eyes with his whole palm. “After that, I realized that the only difference between the Eddie who got laid and the Eddie who didn’t was that no one I slept with really knew me. And if they ever figured out that I’m just this big ol’ nerd who spent high school playing Dungeons & Dragons, they’d…” He flexes his hands to make a poof! motion. “So I decided not to let them get to know me.”

“But then…”

“But then,” he acquiesces, “you show up at the bar, looking like a goddamn dream, and I put up that cocky lead singer persona on instinct. Because that’s the only version of me that women ever wanted to be with.” He sighs. “And then I let my guard down, ask you to spend the night, and I’m thinking, ‘I gotta get her outta here before she sees who I really am. Before she sees that I’m not a rockstar; I’m just a mediocre dad who sells weed to scrape by.’”

You move so quickly that you practically knock over your chair, standing behind him and wrapping your arms around the top of his chest. Your chin rests on his scalp, and he can feel the vibration in your throat as you murmur, “nothing about you is mediocre, Eddie Munson.”

He lays his head on your forearm, kissing it softly before lacing his fingers with yours. “Sometimes, I think I’m just buying time until you get sick of me.”

You shift your position so your lips can brush the side of his neck. “I didn’t fall for the guy on stage that night. I mean, yeah, you looked incredibly hot,” you tease and nip at his collarbone, “but I’m in love with Eddie Munson: the man who gets excited when his son reads a new word, who teases me for liking olives on my pizza, who knows the lyrics to every song ever made–including the ones he claims to hate.”

“Well, Eddie Munson–the real Eddie Munson–is so goddamn lucky to be loved by you.” He turns so he’s facing you, strong hands on your hips as he gazes up with starry eyes.

You cradle his cheeks, stooping down so your noses touch. “You deserve to be loved.”

“Yeah.” The word is more breath than sound. “Yeah, I think I’m finally starting to believe that.”

The remainder of your day is spent having copious amounts of sex; Eddie had insisted on ‘making up for lost time,’ taking breaks only for a quick lunch and a shower.

“Come with me to pick up Harris,” Eddie says as he wraps the bath towel around his waist. Water drips from the ends of his curls down to the dimples on his lower back. “We’re going to Jeff and Viv’s after so he can meet Baby Ettie.”

You raise your eyebrows in amusement, bending over to dry your legs. “I took a sick day today,” you remind him. “I can’t just show up there in your car, like, ‘nothing to see here!’”

“I’ll park far away,” he says with a shrug. “No biggie.” There’s a mischievous glimmer in his eyes. “I mean, I could tell Harris that Ms. Sweetheart was supposed to be with us, but she said no—”

You swat at his chest and he pulls back, feigning pain. “You wouldn’t!”

“Try me.”

That’s how you ended up hunched over in the passenger seat of Eddie’s sedan, hiding from any passersby who could potentially recognize you. It only takes a few minutes before you hear the sound of Harris’s little voice, chewing his dad’s ear off about his day at school.

“...and then me an’ Charlie traded me snacks, an’ no one even sawed us!” He’s cackling like it’s the funniest joke. “He had my pretzels and I had his gummies, and it was so silly!”

“Gummies, huh?” Eddie clicks his tongue, “well, that explains the sugar rush.” Their voices get louder as they approach the car. “By the way, Har Bear, I have a surprise for you.”

As he says it, Harris opens the back door and hops into the car, eyes widening when he sees you sitting up front. “Ms. Sweetheart!” he exclaims, bouncing into his booster seat with pure exhilaration. “What are you doing in Daddy’s car?”

“I figured I could see Baby Ettie with you guys,” you say as nonchalantly as possible, a stark contrast to the little boy practically vibrating from excitement, “if that’s okay with you.”

“Yes, yes, YES!” Harris shouts, his words aimed directly in Eddie’s ear as he tries buckling his son’s seatbelt.

“Jesus H. Christ,” he mutters, wincing as he massages the opening of his ear canal with his forefinger. “Take it down a notch, little man.” He fumbles with the belt until he hears the familiar click. He dons a deep voice to announce, “Keep your arms and legs inside the vehicle at all times,” and Harris draws his limbs inwards with a giggle while Eddie closes his door.

“Daddy? Can we listen to music?”

“Mhm.” Eddie reaches for the radio dial, then stops. “Should we let Ms. Sweetheart choose the tape? Since she’s our special guest?” He shoots you a grin that sends a flip-flopping sensation behind your ribs.

Harris taps his finger to his chin in contemplation. “Hmm…okay! Can she pick Metallica?”

“Not quite sure that’s how it works…” Eddie scrunches up his face and scratches at his jawline.

You turn around to face the boy, whose curly hair is now identically frizzy to his father’s. “Actually, Metallica sounds great to me,” you say, adding a thumbs-up for good measure.

“Metallica it is!” Eddie pops in the cassette, the mechanical wheels whirring for a moment before Fight Fire with Fire blares through the speakers. He rests his palm on the back of your seat as he backs out of the spot, tongue poking from his lips in concentration.

Harris alternates between headbanging to the music and babbling about school throughout the drive to Jeff and Viv’s. His energy seems endless as he hops out of the car and races to their front door.

“Har, remember,” Eddie calls out, “we have to be calm and gentle around the baby. Don’t wanna scare her.”

Harris nods as Jeff opens the door. “Mini Munson!” He gives a tired smile, stifling a yawn. “Ready to meet your new cousin?” He chuckles when Harris jumps up and down and squeals. “I’ll take that as a yes. Go ‘head and sit on the couch, kiddo.”

Harris follows Jeff’s instructions, and you and Eddie trail close behind him. Jess and Robin are also there; the latter woman is currently holding Ettie, lightly rocking the newborn in her arms.

“Do you wanna hold her?” she asks Harris, who looks to you and his dad in a silent plea for permission.

“Up to you, Har,” Eddie says with an encouraging smile. “We’ll help you, if you want.”

Harris nods, shuffling so his back is pressed up against the sofa. He squirms anxiously, kicking his feet as he waits for you and his dad to join him.

Eddie sits on his right side, and you take the empty space to his left. “I’ll help you hold her head,” you promise him. “You can hold your arms out like this,” you demonstrate, resting your forearms on your lap with your palms facing the ceiling, and Harris mimics your actions. “There ya go.”

Robin carefully walks over and places Ettie in Harris’s outstretched arms, ensuring that you’re supporting the baby’s head before she fully lets go. For a few moments, Harris just stares at the little girl, seemingly unsure how to react. Finally, he softly murmurs, “she’s so little!”

“Sure is,” Eddie laughs, poking at one of her tiny toes in amazement. “Would you believe that you were even more little when you were a baby?” His grin deepens when Harris’s jaw drops in disbelief. “It’s true! You were the tiniest little thing I’ve ever seen.” As he says it, a lump forms in his throat, and he swallows it before anyone notices the catch in his voice. You don’t need to hear it, though, and you use your free hand to discreetly rub his back in silent reassurance.

Harris purses his lips as he stares at his new cousin, clearly unaffected by the anecdote. “Does she do any tricks?”

His question has the entire group stifling laughter, and Eddie turns pink with embarrassment as he quickly explains, “she’s not a dog, buddy. And she was only born a few weeks ago, so she pretty much just eats, sleeps, and poops.”

“Ew,” Harris’s nose wrinkles in disgust at the last activity, though you’re willing to bet a large sum of money that he’s made at least one poop-related joke today. “So when can I teach her how to play Legos?”

“Not for a while,” Viv admits with a kind chuckle, “but when she’s ready, I promise that we’ll let her big cousin Harris show her how it’s done.”

Her answer placates him, at least temporarily, and he cautiously brushes his forefinger against Ettie’s scalp, smoothing down her wisps of hair. You take the moment to glance over at Eddie, only to find him looking right at you.

Hi, he mouths, though there’s so much more he wishes to say. When Harris was Ettie’s age, Eddie was exhausted, overwhelmed, constantly on the brink of breaking down. He’d sworn to himself and anyone else who would listen that he’d never go through the newborn stage again, but he’s mesmerized by the sight of you and Harris cuddling a baby. He wants this, he wants this with you, sleepless nights and spit-up stained clothes no longer strong enough deterrents.

Hi, you mouth back, suppressing words that ache to spill from your lips. Your pulse quickens at the way Eddie watches his son, not with scrutiny, but with admiration and awe, as though he can’t believe he’d created such a wonderful little human. Teaching children never translated over to a desire for motherhood, but you can suddenly picture yourself helping Harris hold your baby, a baby that symbolizes the love between you and Eddie.

“They look like a little family.” Robin’s attempted whisper grabs your attention; a brief scan of the room shows that everyone else is looking at her, too. Her cheeks flush a deep red and she mutters, “sorry,” swooping in to scoop Ettie into her arms.

An awkward silence hangs in the air until Jess clears her throat. “How was work today?” she asks you, and though you don’t have an actual answer to the question, you’re grateful for the subject change.

“I took the day off,” you reply nonchalantly. “Wanted to catch up on rest, y’know…” You trail off, hoping your non-answer suffices.

“What about you, Ed?” Jeff tries.

“Oh, uh,” Eddie stammers, nervously running a hand through his hair, “I also took the day off.”

Jeff’s gaze flits between the two of you until he finally manages an elongated, “…cool.”

Luckily, Harris is oblivious to the adults’ conversation. “Uncle Jeff, are you coming to my talent show next week?”

“Talent show?” Jeff glances at Eddie with an amused smirk.

“Uh, yeah, ‘s this parent-kid thing at his school,” Eddie hurriedly explains, trying not to trip over his words. He’s still stuck on what he’s implied by admitting that he’d also called out of work. “I didn’t know how busy you’d be with Ettie—”

Viv smiles. “I think he can sneak out for an hour to see his favorite nephew.”

“Robs and I can help out here if you need,” Jess offers to her sister, “as long as Jeff brings the camcorder so we have video evidence of this performance.”

“Absolutely not.” Eddie shuts the idea down immediately, but his protest is drowned out by the sound of Harris cheering.

“Daddy and I are gonna—”

Eddie claps a ringed hand over his son’s mouth. “It’s a surprise.” He looks at you for a moment, bashfulness infiltrating his expression with a timid smile and downcast eyes, and you realize that the surprise is for you.

Harris wriggles out of Eddie’s grasp with a discontented sigh, sliding off the couch and onto thr floor. “I didn’t tell Ms. Sweetheart,” he protests, and Eddie pinches the bridge of his nose as he gathers any remaining patience.

Ettie puckers up her face and lets out a wail that seems far too big for her teeny body, but it serves as the perfect reason to leave. You hug everyone goodbye and give the cranky baby’s feet a gentle tickle before you head out the door. Harris gallops ahead, giving Eddie the opportunity to guide you with a soft press of his hand to the small of your back. Before he's fully outside, he leans in to Jeff, whispering “I told her,” ending the statement with a grin.

“My man!” Jeff grabs Eddie’s shoulder and gives it a small shake. “Let me know when to buy my tux for the wedding.”

“Jesus, you sound like Harris.”

Spending time at Hawkins Preschool outside of contracted work hours would normally be a scenario straight out of a nightmare. This afternoon; however, you’re here to see the most adorable little boy and his handsome dad perform some sort of mystery talent, which makes it all worthwhile.

The cafeteria has been transformed into an auditorium of sorts, with neat lines of metal folding chairs replacing the long tables that typically fill the space. An area at the front of the room has been sectioned off for the performances, and the entire place is abuzz with excitement about the adorableness that is about to ensue.

You spot Jeff and Wayne sitting in the third row from the back and you give them a little wave, bounding over to take the empty seat to Jeff’s left. The smile on your lips quickly transforms into a frown when you see him shake his head, placing his palm on the chair.

“I’m under strict orders to make sure you sit in the front row,” he says with a knowing smirk. He shoos you away, and you begrudgingly turn from their familiar faces, but not before catching a twinkle in Wayne’s eyes.

Soon after you find a seat close to the makeshift stage, Principal Sinclair steps up to the microphone.

“Welcome, friends and family, to our annual talent show fundraiser!” There’s a polite smattering of applause before she speaks again. “Our students—and their parents—have quite a show for you all. First up is Miss Abigail Carver and her mom, Chrissy, who will be performing a cheer routine!”

You clap as Abby and Chrissy step out, green and yellow pom-poms in hand. Your student recognizes you immediately, running over to give you a quick hug that elicits a resounding aww from the audience members. She rushes back to her spot as she and her mother cheer on the Hawkins Tigers in unison.

Next is another student of yours, Joshua Harrington. His dad hoists a Fisher Price basketball hoop and places it on the ground so the two of them can show off their “slam dunks.”

After a few more students from other classes, it’s finally the moment you’ve been waiting for.

“Please welcome Harris Munson and his dad, Eddie, who will be singing a song!”

No sooner do you call out, “Yay, Harris!” do you hear it:

“Freak.”

It’s low enough that no one else catches it; you probably wouldn’t have, either, if the culprit wasn’t sitting directly behind you. You turn around to see Jason Carver, camcorder by his side, poorly stifling a snicker.

Your hands clench, balled into fists, so tight that you feel your fingernails digging into your palms. It’s too tempting to smash his camera—no, smash his stupid face—but you inhale and then exhale for three seconds apiece. Today is about Harris and Eddie, and no overgrown bully is going to ruin that.

Still, you have to bite back a smile at the thought of Jason sporting a black eye, courtesy of the Freak’s girlfriend herself.

When Harris and Eddie take to the performance space, your anger evaporates and your heart becomes heavy with emotion. Harris is front and center, body slightly turned as he watches his dad get settled on a wooden stool and gives his acoustic guitar a tune. The boy dons a black suit that’s a size too big for him, his hands barely peeking out of the sleeves. He’s got on a tie that has to have been borrowed from an adult; you can’t imagine Eddie or Wayne wearing one, so maybe Jeff loaned it. The best part is the fedora that rests atop his messy mop of curls.

“Hi, Ms. Sweetheart!” he says with a grin so wide it likely hurts his cheeks, letting out a shriek of delight when you wave. “This song is for you!”

Eddie murmurs a soft, “two, three, four,” and strums a melody that immediately has your eyes welling with tears.

“You make me feel so young,” Harris croons, mouth right up to the mic, “you make me feel so spring has sprung!”

To anyone else, it seems like a silly play on the fact that he is, in fact, young. You know it’s so much more.

“And every time I see you grin, I’m such a happy individual!”

He’s singing Frank Sinatra. He’s dressed as Frank Sinatra. And you know it had to be Eddie’s idea, considering Harris’s musical repertoire teeters between Raffi and Metallica.

He skips a few verses, and when he does, Eddie locks eyes with you and offers a tiny close-mouthed smile.

“And even when I’m old and gray I’m gonna feel the way I do today ‘Cause you make me feel so young!”

You choke down the sob that threatens to escape as they circle back to the chorus. The memory of Grandma’s final Thanksgiving, consisting of singing along to Fly Me to the Moon and sharing store-brand Oreos, soars around your mind. The way she had so easily slipped back into her old self, if only for a moment. The way Eddie had held you and kissed your scalp, protecting you from a force no one could see but everyone could feel.

“You make me feel so young You make me feel so young Ooh, you make me feel so young!”

The song ends and you leap to your feet, cheering just as loudly as you did the other night at the Hideout for Corroded Coffin. You swipe at a stray tear and force yourself to look at your boyfriend, so effortlessly beautiful in a black t-shirt and jeans.

Thank you, you mouth.

I love you, comes his silent reply.

You gaze into each other’s eyes for another beat before you feel a thud against your legs. Harris stands right before you, ignoring the way all of the other kids proceeded out the door after their performances.

“Are those happy tears?” he asks, brows furrowing in concern as he notices your stained cheeks. When you nod, still too overcome with emotion to speak aloud, his face splits into a grin. “Good.” His arms wrap around your waist in a hug that nearly has you toppling over, and you rest your hand on his upper back to steady yourself.

“Easy, Har Bear,” Eddie’s voice is strong but tender, and your entire body relaxes in his presence. You want to pull him in by his belt loops and kiss him, running your fingers through his curls until you’re both smiling too hard to continue. If only you weren’t at your place of work, if only all eyes weren’t on you, if only–

“Looks like the Freak’s got a crush.”

A smattering of the audience members laugh at this, no one more so than the instigator himself. You whirl around reflexively, eyes narrowing at the smug blonde man behind you. Eddie takes a small step forward, quietly telling Harris to go back with his friends as he zeroes in on his longtime nemesis.

He’s going to hit him, you realize, noting the subtle clench of his jaw and twitch of his flexing bicep. I have to stop him before he does something he regrets.

Eddie’s hand shoots out, grabbing Jason’s collar and pulling him in with a jolt. There’s a soft gasp from the crowd followed by silence as everyone waits for Eddie’s next move. You can hear the scraping of metal chairs on the ground as Wayne and Jeff scramble to mitigate the situation before it can escalate further.

To your surprise–and relief–Eddie doesn’t throw any punches; instead, he grits his teeth and hisses, low enough so only you and Jason can hear:

“Don’t ever talk about her again.”

He lets go with a small shove, and Jason stumbles back just as Principal Sinclair arrives to break it up. While time came to a screeching halt, the whole interaction spanned fewer than ten seconds.

Wayne and Jeff reach him first, guiding him out of the cafeteria. The older man keeps his eyes on his nephew, but Jeff shoots Jason a steely glare, insinuating that Jason had better heed Eddie’s warning if he wants to live to see his daughter go to kindergarten. You follow behind and attempt to keep your composure.

“I’m so sorry,” Eddie breathes as soon as the four of you are alone. “I shouldn’t have…I just fuckin’ hate that guy.” His eyes dance with anxiety, not sure whether to look at you, his friend, his uncle, or the ground.

You take his hands in yours, imploring him to focus on you as you reach up to brush his curls off of his face. “It’s okay–”

Eddie shakes his head. “I ruined everything. This was supposed to be about Harris, and about making you happy…” He takes a step back, rubbing his eyes with a low, exasperated, “fuck!”

“Baby–”

“I’m gonna get Harris,” Eddie starts to walk away, speaking to himself as though you hadn’t said a word, but he stops in his tracks when Wayne puts his hand on his shoulder.

“Listen to your girl,” he says simply, motioning for Jeff to come fetch Harris with him.

Eddie doesn’t dare protest, trudging back to face you. He’d fucked up royally, and he knew it. What was he thinking, putting his hands on Jason Carver in the middle of a goddamn preschool talent show?

“Eddie,” you take his hand in yours and give it a squeeze, “it’s okay. I’m not mad; I just wish he didn’t get under your skin like that.” You rub your thumb along his forefinger. “He’s not worth it, I promise.”

“I just…” Eddie mumbles, thoughts too scrambled to find the words he needs. He heaves a long sigh. “I shouldn’t have done it here.”

You can’t really argue with that; out of all of the places Eddie could fight Jason, your job wasn’t your favorite option.

“Can I tell you a secret?” You press onto your toes to whisper in his ear. “I almost did the same thing earlier today.”

“Really?”

“Mhm,” you confirm, nudging the toe of your shoe against his scuffed sneaker. “And I have a feeling most people in this town would agree with me.” The notion makes Eddie smile, and you continue. “Let me take you and Ol’ Brown Eyes out for ice cream to celebrate your amazing performance. Please?” You throw a puppy-dog look his way, though he needs little convincing.

Still, a nagging thought tugs at him that he has to resolve before can allow himself to relax. “There might be people there. People we know.” People like Jason Carver and Carol Perkins, he silently adds. “It’s okay if you don’t want to…we can just grab a half-gallon from Bradley’s and bring it home.”

You shake your head, effectively turning down his offer. “I’m taking my boyfriend and his adorable son to Scoops Ahoy, and the three of us are gonna split a fudge sundae,” you say matter-of-factly.

“Are you sure you’re okay with this?” Are you sure you’re okay with people knowing about us? Being branded ‘The Freak’s Girlfriend’? Hearing people gossip about whatever the Hawkins rumor mill has churned out?

The sensation of your lips on his tempers the overworked gear shifts in his brain. When you pull back, you’re smiling at him.

“Positive.”

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unholyhelbig · 2 months

Note

Your Oversight story is so amazing, I’m obsessed truly. I need some domestic fluff with Nat, reader, and Ronnie. Like making cookies for Ronnie’s class or something!!! Thank you for feeding my mafia boss obsession!

Title: Little Marksman [An Oversight Oneshot]

Ship: Female!Reader x Natasha Romanoff

Summary: Natasha's mother makes an impromtu visit to the United States, sending Natasha and Yelena into a sprial about how their mother will react to their partners.

Warnings(PLEASE READ): None, I think, just fluff!, and horrible grammar

[a/n: This isn't exactly the fluff you requested, but I think it's pretty fluffy! Thank you all for the oversight requests, I promise, I'll get to them soon!]

Check out the full Oversight universe

Natasha Romanoff did not often allow herself to indulge in the simple things. Sleeping in had long been a thing of the past, she’d spring up at the first chirp of an alarm and spend her mornings in a ritual of freshly pressed coffee, a long run that would coat her in a sheen of sweat, and then finally sitting down to attend to the boring side of business.

That, of course, had changed when she welcomed you into her life. You were decidedly not a morning person and would grumble until you found her alarm clock in the dark, shutting it off and pinning Natasha down with your dead weight as you fell back into a deep slumber. She hadn’t the heart to move you.

Then, when Veronica had gotten her own room there were some nights when Natasha would stir from her vigilant sleep. She’d startle, really. Your daughter was mostly silent during the day and happened to be worse at night. She would stand at the bottom of the bed, contemplating waking you.

It only ever bothered you after you watched the ring for the first time. After that, you would sense her presence and it seemed like Natasha was the same. She sat up and blinked, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

“Hi baby,” Natasha croaked, “are you alright?”

Natasha saw the silhouette of Ronnie shake her head and the woman looked sparingly at you. Light breathes escaped you, dead to the world. She heard the little word, barely a whisper. “Nightmare.”

It tugged at Natasha’s heart to the point where it was almost painful. She wanted to wrap her up that first night, pull her close until she wasn’t afraid of whatever had plagued her in her dreams. Tentatively, she scooted to the far side of the mattress and patted the space she’d created between the both of you.

Veronica snuggled under the blankets, shivering as her cold began to ebb away. Natasha felt stiff for a moment, lying on her back. She could feel your daughter’s body heat against her, and made the conscious choice not to move closer.

“You can talk about it, if you want.” She eventually whispered. “I’m here to listen, Ronnie, malen'kiy strelok.”

Little Marksman. Her father used to call Natasha the same, despite her not being the greatest shot. But, she was better than Yelena and that’s all the mattered at the moment. The term of endearment rolled off her tongue like honey and shocked her in the process.

Veronica didn’t say anything, she often didn’t, but she wrapped her tiny, strong arms around Natasha’s arm and buried her cheek into her, reveling in the close contact. She softened instantly and found herself staying awake until Ronnie’s breath evened out.

Neither her alarm, nor Ronnie stirred her this particular morning. Instead, it was a frantic knocking at her door. The sun streaming through the blinds indicated that she had been given the chance to sleep in, and if that wasn’t enough, you had left a little note on her side table: Get some sleep, I’ll handle the morning meetings. Love you!

It was close to noon, from her estimate, so you had kept up your end of the bargain. Natasha groaned into the silk pillow and pulled her way to the door. She glowered at the woman that stood on the other side.

“Did someone die?” Natasha grumbled, “Because you’re about to.”

“You are incredibly grumpy in the morning, has anyone ever told you that?”

Yelena shoved her way into the room. She was holding an envelope that had yet to be opened. There was a specific floral scent, almost like roses. Natasha crinkled her nose; she knew that smell. It had been a constant soothing presence throughout her childhood and beyond. Sometimes, she would walk into random rooms and catch a whisp of the spectral scent.

She snatched the envelope from her sister. It had already been crudely ripped, despite Natasha’s name being on it. This was a federal offense- but most of the stuff that this family did was, so it bothered her surprisingly little.

“Mama is coming for a visit.”

Yelena spilled the words out before Natasha could process the neat Russian writing. Her stomach dropped. Melina and Alexi had moved to a small far just outside of Moscow years ago. They stated that they wanted to get out of the city, but really, Alexi couldn’t keep his hands out of the business if they stayed in the city.

They would call every once and awhile, but were mostly solitary. She’d get a call on Christmas, and her birthday and sometimes the anniversary of her first kill. That one was hit or miss. Rarely- never- had Melina decided to drop by.

“I may have let it slip that you have a girlfriend.”

“Yelena!” Natasha shoved her roughly “Why would you do that?”

“It just came out! She was grilling me about Kate, and I panicked. You know yours is more put together than mine.”

“You threw me under the bus.”

Yelena had a genuinely sad look on her face, one that was borderline pouty. Natasha growled through clenched teeth and finally got a chance to read her mother’s writing. She’d be here tomorrow, and there was too much to do. Natasha’s head started to spin.

In fact, you weren’t more put together than Kate. The two of you seemed to feed off of each other’s chaos. It was fine to deal with on a regular basis, but Melina was like a bloodhound. She would smell fear, and she would play into it until you both were reduced to a crushable size.

Oh, this was not good.

Natasha must have paled noticeably because Yelena took a tepid step closer, creasing her fingers against the empty pink envelope. Melina would be flying alone. She’d be here in two days and that didn’t give either girls much time to process the invasion at all.

Though her father was a stern man in practice, he was much easier to impress than her mother. They balanced one another out, and that was something that would be sorely missed during this visit.

She took a steadying breath, running her fingers over the dented familiarity of her mothers perfect script. There was nothing to worry about, right?

Despite Natasha’s multiple text messages to her mother, insisting that she would send a car to pick her up, Melina took a cab from the airport, not bothering to let either of her daughters in on the fact. She knew the address of her pervious home like the back of her hand, knew the deep green grass of the landscaping and the stretching view of the harbor.

Natasha had been pacing the length of the family room for most of the day. Yelena was draped over the loveseat, her limbs hanging over the sides, making her look nearly lanky compared to the furniture.

“Natasha, please, you are going to wear a hole in the carpet.”

“How can you be so calm?” She halted her pacing, cutting her sister a deadly look.

“I am not calm. I simply mask it better than you.”

The muffled sound of a car door closing made Yelena shoot up from her lounging position, she was standing next to Natasha now, both of them staring wildly at the large oak doors. You and Kate had been sent out with a massive grocery list and it was much too early for the two of you to return with Ronnie. In fact, you usually stopped for some ice cream, or a small lunch as a reward for the tiny girl.

Natasha deemed it better not to inform you, nor Kate, about her mother’s visit. It could be considered cruel, sure, but knowing you the warning would do nothing but send you into an immense panic and that would simply spur her mother on.

Melina had arrived with nothing more than a half-packed duffel bag. She always packed light, using the key on her ring to open the door to the place that was once her home. Natasha and Yelena lingered by the curved entryway, watching as the woman, perfectly sculpted and entirely unchanged, smiled softly at the décor.

“Do not just stand there, girls, come give mama a hug.”

It was an order that Yelena folded in on first. She was stiff at first but at the floral scent that her mother carried like a vice, she melted into the embrace. There was nothing like a mothers hug, and that was evident by her body language.

“Aw, sweet girl” Melina pulled back and squished Yelena’s face between her hands “you are much too lean. Is this Kate girl not feeding you?”

“Mama, prekrati eto” She grumbled, batting the woman away.

Melina narrowed her eyes but focused her attention on her oldest daughter. She grasped both of her hands first, giving them a small squeeze before pulling her into her embrace. Natasha melted, pressed her nose against the side of her mother’s neck. It had been much too long, and despite being reduced to a little girl in this moment, she didn’t seem to mind.

“You’ve healed nicely,” Melina said.

Of course, her mother had heard about the two shots that Natasha took to the back. She had been lucky and avoided any major injury. They were simply superficial, but she could understand how it would sound brutal all the same.

“Now,” she clapped her hands together, getting a devilish look in her eye “where is my granddaughter?”

Natasha choked on air before she glared at Yelena with a look that could kill. Her mother’s hand was patting her back. She’d become tender with age, it seemed. Still, a force to be reckon with, Natasha wouldn’t dare try anything.

“Your granddaughter?”

“Please, Natalia, she sleeps in your bed. Marriage or not, she’s your child. That’s how we got Clint, isn’t it?”

She was at a loss for words. Melina had a point. Clint was a mere stranger to Natasha until her parents took both her and Yelena to the circus that traveled through town. Her younger sister was nothing more than a baby, but Natasha was mystified. More than the clowns, and the acrobats, she had interest in the knife thrower and his charge.

A little boy that was around the same age as Natasha. When the show was over, Natasha refused to move until the young boy, covered in dirt and with dark purple bags under his eyes, started to sweep piles of popcorn and empty paper cups to the sidelines.

She’d introduced herself, and though he was quiet, she took an instant liking to him. Alexi had a few choice words with the boys guardian, who turned out, didn’t want to keep the kid and regarded him as nothing more than an employee- a runaway that had latched onto the circus. He had no idea who the boy belonged to, and Alexi decided that Clint belonged to them, now.

Instead of Clint being like family, he was family.

“Oh Mama, she will marry this girl.” Yelena beamed, “titles be damned.”

Natasha groaned into her hands. Had she thought about marriage? Yes, absolutely. She wanted nothing more than to make you officially hers. But she wanted to wait until the perfect moment; she wanted to not only include Ronnie, but get her input as well.

Melina gave a beautiful smile, patting Natasha’s cheek “I know, moya milaya. Are you not going to show me to my room?”

It was apparent that you and Kate had been sent on a fools errand when you finally got to the store and got a better look at the handwritten list that you were given: Milk, eggs, bread, A single MTS-I Mortorq screw, VW Mk4 Golf R32 duel clutch plate- and seriously, what the hell was that?

Darcy would know, and would have caught on a lot faster than you or Kate did. The more you thought about it, the more you realized that there was no reason to go to the store at all. You’d gone two days prior and knew for a fact that you’d gotten everything recognizable on the list.

“Kid,” Kate gave Ronnie’s had a squeeze “we’ve been played, bamboozled, tricked.”

Your daughter lifted an eyebrow at the woman’s antics. In a few years, she’d move on to eye rolling, and while you weren’t prepared for it, you would be glad for the indication. You’d done it yourself, crumpling up the list and shoving it into your pocket. There was no need to brave the crowds in the grocery store.

Instead, you aimed your sights on the small frozen yogurt place that was nestled in between a shoe store and a Gamestop. You might as well get a treat while you were out, considering Natasha requested you go further than the closest store because she liked the bread at this one better.

“They clearly wanted us out of the house. But why?”

“Yelena usually tells me everything.”

“Huh,”

“What? She does!”

“Doesn’t seem like the type.”

A sweet frozen scent hit your lungs and the little bell above the door sounded. There was a less than enthusiastic employee behind the counter, moving like molasses. You did have to kill time…apparently.

Veronica spoke up when dessert was involved. She didn’t carry a conversation with the teenager, but she did give little indicating sounds. Your arms were crossed over your chest to stave off the cold, and you settled for a simple chocolate. Ronnie loaded hers with a bunch of toppings, and Kate got vanilla with extra (extra) rainbow sprinkles. Each bite she took crunched like gravel.

“The point is, she didn’t say anything about something going down, and if it was, wouldn’t they want us there? Clint’s out of town so we’re the only muscle they’ve got.”

The employee behind the counter lifted an eyebrow at you both and you made sure to stick an extra couple of bills in the tip jar with a sheepish smile. You ushered them both to one of the benches outside, basking in the highpoint of the sun and cursing Kate’s tact, or lack thereof.

“You’ve got a point. Maybe it’s something personal?” You suggested, reaching your pink plastic spoon over and stealing a bite of Ronnie’s candy-coated yogurt. She batted you away, a little too slow and you claimed your prize.

“Yelena tells me-“

“Everything, I know.”

Kate took her own scoop of frozen yogurt and crunched on it thoughtfully. “They’re nervous. If they’re being this secretive. They sent us out for car parts for a car that none of us own.”

“Lena said that Mama is coming for a visit.”

Ronnie’s feet didn’t’ touch the ground and she was working at dislodging a frozen gummy bear that became mostly inedible. She kicked back and forth and only looked up from her task when she was met with silence.

Kate’s mouth was propped open, and your eyes were wide. She frantically glanced between the both of you and shrugged her little shoulders. “This is one of those things I’m supposed to tell you, right?”

Kate nodded, suddenly losing her appetite “Uh-huh,”

You’d heard about Melina before, in passing, but Natasha seemed to bristle about the woman. She did the same for her father, but you knew the legends of Alexi and his kind hand when it came to running the city. Her mother was entirely different; entirely horrifying.

You’d seen a picture of her in a small and dusty shoe-box while helping Natasha clean out the attic one day last summer. It was stiflingly hot, and you were shocked to find it framed, but shoved away all the same.

Natasha was young, maybe around eleven, and Clint was next to her, smiling with missing front teeth. Yelena was smaller, the large hands of Alexi engulfing her shoulders. And then there was Melina, even in casual cargo shorts and striped tank-top, she looked regal and oh-so intimidating.

Your girlfriends’ arms wrapped around her midsection, her chin resting on your shoulder. She gave you a squeeze and stared down at the photo you were holding.

“You were cute as a kid.”

“were?”

“Still are!” you corrected, smiling lazily down at the family photo.

There was something longing behind your gaze that Natasha admired. Not that she would tell you that. Instead, she told you about the trip to Busche Gardens that ended in Clint nearly drowning and Yelena throwing up after she scarfed down three corndogs and a funnel cake.

Now you felt like you would vomit yourself, sliding your frozen yogurt away with a frown. You were far from prepared to meet Melina Romanoff, and by the green look on Kate’s face, so was she.

“Oh, we are so fuc… screwed. We’re screwed.”

“I know the word fuck, mommy says it all the time.”

“Just because I say it doesn’t mean you can. Eat your yogurt.”

You were clearly having a crisis and Veronica was clearly enjoying the fact that you’d given up on your frozen yogurt. She took alternating bites and would most definitely lose her appetite if she kept going, but you couldn’t’ bring yourself to push it away.

“Why wouldn’t they tell us?” you asked.

“Probably because of this” Kate made a vague gesture “this who panicking thing? Melina is going to kill us both and then it won’t matter but they decided to spare us the torture of waiting for this day.”

It felt like slowly working a mouse away from a glue trap by the time your frozen yogurt had turned to nothing but a brown soup. There was nothing to hold you and Kate from home now, and Ronnie was growing restless under the hand of the sun. You swore you heard her mutter something about Grandma, but chose to ignore it entirely in favor for pure fear.

Natasha seemed to be waiting at the door to intercept both you before you went any further. Not that you minded her soothing hand on your chest, and an apologetic look in her eyes. She smoothed your shirt down once, and then nervously, twice.

“Sweetie, I don’t think it’ll un-wrinkle, no matter how hot your hands are.”

“See that,” She whispered harshly, “Is something we’re not going to do. Both of you need to be on your best behavior. Understood? Better than best. Kate maybe don’t… talk.”

“Aye, captain.”

The younger woman frowned at her own words and instead settled for miming zipping her lips shut. Maybe it would better for you not to talk either. From your spot in the foyer, with Ronnie clinging to the fabric of your jeans, you could hear the muffled Russian. Yelena was responding to something, a bit of a whining tone to her voice.

Natasha’s hands had made their way to yours. She knit them together, a sort of an anchor. The other hand reached down to Ronnie, who was suddenly shy despite her earlier indifference. You could throw up right here and now but figured that would only serve to embarrass you further.

There was a clear similarity between Melina and Natasha; the high cheek bones, the striking green gaze, the flawless skin. She held the same cold stare that her daughter did but could hide her emotions better than your girlfriend. A stone dropped in your stomach under her gaze.

Natasha squeezed your hand tighter, her thumb on your pulse point. The pad of her finger ran over it gently, assuredly. She knew you were horrified. Kate gulped (which to her credit, was technically not talking, but was still painfully audible.)

Melina had a knife in her hand, a half-carved apple resting between she and Yelena like a peace offering. There were differences in the cuts, one smoother, the other more practiced. This family found leisure activity in carving techniques.

Natasha warned in a breath “Bud' milym, mama.”

Her mother didn’t heed the warning. Instead, she closed the difference between you. Yelena instinctively tightened her grip on the kitchen knife, not that she’d ever use it. Melina scrutinized you for what seemed like years, but was only a few ticking seconds.

“Ona khoroshen'kaya”

“spasibo, Miss Romanoff”

“ah, you know Russian?”

“Yelena has been teaching me.” You swallowed the dryness in your throat as her raised eyebrow lowered to something less intimidating. “Ma’am.”

“Manners too. Maybe you can teach my Natalia something or two about that.”

You felt you cheeks heat up and you diverted your eyes to the floor. It had directed the attention in the room to the small girl clinging to your leg as if it were a piece of beached driftwood and she were fighting against the raging currents.

Melina knelt down in front of your daughter, her rigid stance loosening until she looked more like a mother than yourself. She was soft in this moment, the sun hitting her eyes in a way that made them glow supernaturally.

“Hi, Malen'kiy strelok”

Natasha parted her lips, as if to inform her mother that Veronica didn’t speak much, if at all. She’d gotten better, sure, but it was nearly stagnant with new people. Ronnie studied Melina as the woman had studied you.

“What does that mean?” Ronnie asked, her grip lessening.

Melina smiled “Little marksman. From what I hear, your mother has a very good aim. Do you?”

“I don’t know yet. Kate says I do.”

“Well, I’m sure we will find out in due time, milaya devushka.” She tentatively tucked a strand of hair behind Ronnie’s ear before standing again and focusing her attention on Kate. Kate who had paled at least ten shades and was sweating despite the air conditioning in the house.

Yelena straightened up herself, giving a silent warning with her stare. Of course, Kate didn’t’ see it like you and Natasha did, her arm having moved from your hand to your hip bone in the quiet approval from her mother. She’d relaxed significantly.

“Hi,” Kate squeaked out and Yelena stifled a groan put massaged her temple.

Melina seemed to look to Natasha for confirmation: This is the one she chooses?

With you, there was merit. There were callouses on your hands and scars that hardened under the fabric of your shirt. Kate was much of the same, though, she showed it in a nervous, fluttering type of way that presented outwardly as fumbling and awkward.

“Krasivo, no... puglivo. Like deer.” Melina offered a small smile to the girl and her breath seemed to release.

Skittish. Kate was certainly that, but she seemed to balance out Yelena with the perfect amount of caring and heart. Melina was nothing, if not vigilant. She clapped her hands together, that small smile turning into a large grin. “You all must eat something, you look starving. And Natasha, you are slouching, don’t’ slouch in front of your daughter. Those bad manners.”

“Mama, I am not slouching.”

Natasha groaned as the tension in the room broke. Her forehead pushed against your cheek. Veronica dragged Kate over to the kitchen island by the hand and instruction on the proper way to carve pieces from an apple began, much to Yelena’s huffing dismay.

Hands shifted from your hips, finding the two back pockets of your jeans. “She likes you,”

“I would be dead by now if she didn’t.”

“Yeah, right when you walked through the door.”

The two of you chuckled, her nose nudging against yours. “She called Ronnie your daughter.”

“I’m sorry, dorogoy, she pushes. She means well.”

You pressed a small kiss to the corner of her mouth, words a light whisper “don’t apologize. I like the sound of it.”

Before Natasha could collect her thoughts, her rush of pure emotion, you had pulled away from her and joined the rest of the family around the kitchen island. Though she couldn’t hear exactly what was being said, Natasha was more than content standing in the doorway, her arms crossed over her chest.

Her heart pounded fondly.

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#Natasha Romanoff #Natasha Romanov #Natasha Romanoff x reader #Natasha Romanoff x y/n #Natasha ROmanoff x you #Natasha Romanov x y/n #Natasha Romanov x you #Natasha Romanov x reader #Mafia au #Yelena Belova #Kate Bishop #Clint Barton #Reader insert #request

417 notes · View notes

riverwalsh · 3 months

Note

nicole my love !

where do you stand on brat tamer!frank …… would he be quick to react? grabbing your jaw after you give him attitude, raising his eyebrows at you with a warning “watch the mouth, yeah?” in that thick raspy voice? or is he rubbing a warm hand in circles on your lower back, quietly muttering a “don’t gotta act out for attention, baby.” i need 2 knooooow 🤗

— princessbrunette ♡

an; thank u for the request princess, sorry it took so long but i love u dearly 🤍 i always seem to take your requests in a little crazy direction so just bear with me (also note to everyone please ignore the verb tense changing like halfway through it turned into something of a drabble and i don’t feel like fixing it. so enjoy.)

cw; female!reader, mentions of blood/violence, cockwarming. that’s about it.

18+ only mdni

i think frank would be pretty good at reading you. he knows what makes you itch; like when he leaves his boots, carelessly splattered with the blood of a lowlife (or three) that will surely be named in tomorrow morning’s newspaper, strewn haphazardly on the living room floor for you to trip over when you get home. or, when you ask him about said lowlife(s) and he brushes you off, mumbling something about how it doesn’t matter anyways, and they got what was coming to them, before disappearing for the third night that week. it makes you feel so goddamn lonely.

it was these things, among others of course. sometimes frank castle was just so goddamn stubborn it made your skin crawl.

buuuut, frank also knows what makes you feel better. knows how to handle you when you start letting your irritation show. he’d just accept your little quips and snide remarks for a while. let you take out just a little bit your pent up frustration out on him—i mean, he kinda deserves it sometimes, right? he knows this, you know this. and yet, he knew exactly when to make it right.

“fuck you, frank,” you muttered as you frantically pulled your shoes on, already late for work. everything had already gone wrong for you that morning—your first alarm didn’t go off, your shower was lukewarm at best, and you burnt your last bagel. and now, as you were ready to leave, frank suddenly decided he wanted to talk.

“whoa, whoa, whoa, hey.” his tone was firm, a hand coming out as if in warning. as annoyed as you got, you hardly ever swore at frank. “what’s wrong with you?”

there he is.

“what’s wrong with me?” you asked incredulously, grabbing your keys off the hook. “wha- what’s wrong with you?! you’re fucking gone almost every night this week, i’m getting calls from karen practically every five minutes-”

“she’s just-“

“don’t you fucking dare play dumb like you didn’t ask her to check in on me,” you cut him off quickly, pointing an accusing finger at him. you knew how you were being but you couldn’t help it at this point. “i can handle myself, frank. maybe if you just told me what the fuck was going on i could just-”

“you could just what? hm?” his voice was quiet, but commanding. his arms crossed in front of him as he postured intimidatingly toward you, eyebrows raised in a silent challenge to keep talking. your mouth snapped shut immediately, heart jumping as you lowered your hand that was still hovering mid-air.

you swallowed thickly, putting your keys into your bag with less of a rush, suddenly more careful of your movements. he watched you thoughtfully for a moment, before slowly making his way toward you, boots heavy as they met the hardwood below. you could do nothing but stare at him as he came closer, irritation suddenly the furthest thing from your mind.

“you, uh…” he paused, not for lack of words but simply dramatics. “you think you’re pretty tough, that right?”

“i never said that,” you replied quickly, shaking your head and averting your gaze. his hand was quick to grab your chin, forcing your head up to look him in the eye.

“‘i can handle myself.’ ain’t that what you just said?” his voice was low and rough, like he’d just swallowed sandpaper. your breath came out trembling, and when you didn’t answer fast enough for his liking, his grip grew tighter, rattling you a bit. “you answer me when i’m talkin’ to you, girl.”

“y-yes, that’s what i said,” you answered, voice wavering slightly. his gaze was piercing, eyes searching yours for a moment before releasing his grip, leaving you stumbling backwards into the front door.

“everything i do is for you,” he starts, adam's apple bobbing as he reaches out to place a more gentle hand on your arm, thumb rubbing your skin in soft circles. his eyes are still ablaze, and the dissonance makes you shiver. “everything, everything i fuckin’ do out there is to make sure none of my shit makes it back home to you, you got that? i’m not gonna let anyone lay a finger on you.” you find yourself nodding, mindlessly, letting his words soothe the irritation that had built up inside you. his calloused fingers find their way back to your face and he rubs his thumb across the plush of your lower lip, gauging the intensifying rise and fall of your chest.

he knows you. he knows what you need.

he nods almost curtly in understanding, letting his touch linger a bit longer just to feel the warmth of your shaking breath. “now you watch your goddamn language when you’re speakin’ to me, sweetheart. go on.” he jerked his head toward the door before turning around and heading for the kitchen without so much as another glance in your direction. “you’re gonna be late.”

you were in fact a few minutes late to work, but you were exactly on time getting home, that’s for sure. maybe even a few minutes earlier than usual.

and frank was waiting for you, of course he was. it was barely five minutes from walking through the door before he had you completely stripped, sitting obediently still in his lap as you wept into his shoulder.

“easy,” he cooed, squeezing your hips to keep you from rocking too much. “you quit all that cryin’ and start talking.”

your tears darkened his shirt as you clung to him helplessly, stuffed full of his thick cock and intoxicated by his voice.

“i-i just wan’you to talk to me, frank,” you cried, grasping weakly for purchase on his shoulders. “you get so distant and push me away…but i just wanna be helpful to you.” your voice was quiet and almost conspiratorial where you whispered into his neck, pressing wet, open-mouthed kisses into his warm skin. “i just-

“hey, hey, hey,” he cut you off, grabbing your neck to pull you back and look into his darkened eyes. his voice was rough with restraint—it was nothing short of a miracle he was holding it together, what with you clenching around him desperately with every breath. “none of that. you wanna know how you can help me?”

you nodded fervently.

“by stayin’ your ass right fuckin’ here,” he grit, eliciting a pathetic moan from you as he drew you in impossibly closer. “by wakin’ up in the mornin’ and goin’ to work like you have been. by doin’ what i say, when i say it. by trustin’ that everything i do out there is for you, it’s for you.” he punctuated his words with a press to your lower back, guiding you to roll your hips against him slowly. “that’s how you can help me. you got that?”

“yes, frank, yes, yes,” you whined, letting his words placate you as you began to move against him with more eagerness. “i’m sorry, i’m so so sorry-”

“shh, shh, shh, you don’t apologize,” he soothed, his voice strained, blunt nails digging crescents into your plush skin. “you don’t apologize to me, girl, you just take what you need baby, you take it from me, yeah? you take it and then we can talk, baby, just fuckin’- oh, fuck- you just take it-”

so yeah, frank knows how to handle you and your bratty attitude just fine.

#princessbrunette #frank castle #frank castle smut #the punisher #frank castle x reader #frank x reader #frank castle x you #frank x you #the punisher smut #frank castle x f!reader

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sinsmockingbird · 2 months

Text

KITTEN IN HEAT | Lynette

PAIRING: Lynette x GN!Reader

WARNINGS: Smut, NSFW, Dom!Reader, Sub!Character, Reader has a cock, Heat, Breeding, Scratching

AUTHORS NOTE: The sweetest baby that I love with all my heart. Lynette deserves nothing but the best, I stand by that.

LYNETTE TOLD you everything. She always had since the first day you both became official. She'd tell you how her day went, how she was feeling, and she'd tell you about her wants. She told you everything, everything but this.

You noticed something was off with Lynette the moment you had woken up that morning. She had a sort of... distant look in her eyes, and it always seemed like she wasn't entirely present. She was more quiet- more so than she usually is, really only giving you yes or no answers or just a nod or shake of her head. But nothing rang more alarm bells in your head than just how clingy she was being with you.

Lynette wasn't always big with physical affection. She wasn't opposed to it by any means, and would accept any you give her if you initiate it. She never initiated any sort of hugging or even hand holding, she always waited for you to do it. Yet, here she was, practically glued to you as she curled herself up in your lap, hands clutching onto the front of your shirt.

"Lyn, is something wrong?" You asked for the 10th time that day since you first saw her. You glanced down at her, not being able to meet her eyes considering she had buried her face into your chest.

Lynette didn't respond, and she made no indication that she had even heard you. You frowned, moving to pull her off your lap to get up from the couch, and immediately she made a sound of protest. You flinched when you felt her nails dig so deep into your shirt they were pressing into your skin, and for a moment you thought she'd break through it.

"Lynette," You said her name with a bit more force that made her momentarily pause, giving you enough time to pull her off you and settle her onto the couch besides you. "What the hell is going on with you?"

You held her arms firmly against her sides, looming over her and making sure she wouldn't be able to wiggle out of your hold. You finally got a good look at her face after hours of her having into buried against you. Her face was flushed red and covered in a light layer of sweat, her pupils dilated, and you could hear her heavy breathing.

Your eyes widened, finally realizing that something was indeed wrong, "Lynette what's wrong, please talk to me."

"I-" Lynette opened her mouth momentarily before quickly closing it, her gaze averting away from your face as she tried to wiggle around in your hold once again, but you kept it firm.

"Lynette," You said her name once again, your voice slightly raised and serious as you looked at her with pleading eyes. You were utterly worried about her at this point.

She froze again, and you could tell she was having a debate with herself in her head, and you waited for her to respond, and when she did, you didn't know how to react. "I'm in heat."

You simply just... froze at her words, your confusion clear as you tried to understand what exactly she meant by being "in heat." Lynette ended up using the opportunity to finally wiggle out from your grip, and you didn't have much time process before she was pushing you flat onto your back onto the couch. She moved to curl herself back up into a ball, lying on your stomach and chest, her hands gripping at your shirt.

"W-What are you-" You pursed your lips, just deciding to not fight back and allow Lynette to lay on you. She was clearly intent on doing so, and you had a feeling it was because of this heat thing. "What do you mean, "'I'm in heat?'"

Lynette pursed her lips, thinking over her words for a reply very carefully. She had never talked to you about this before, and she honestly wasn't sure on how to, especially not when she was currently in the middle of one.

"It means it's breeding season for cats, and considering I'm, well," Lynette's tail thumped softly against your tail, letting you know what she meant.

"I- I see," You muttered, allowing her words to sink in and allow yourself to understand on what she meant.

Considering Lynette had quite a bit of cat qualities to her, it would make sense to you that she would experience some sort of reaction to the breeding season. It would explain how she was acting very unusual with you, and would explain some other things. But as you thought over it more, one realization came to you, and you felt your face flush when you hesitantly spoke up.

"Does this mean your, uhm, sexually aroused right now..?" You tentatively asked, and you felt her body slightly arch up against you.

Lynette was quiet, and for a moment you thought you had somehow pushed her too far with the question, but then you heard her mumble a simple, "Yes."

You noddes your head at her answer, your face flushing even more at the new knowledge you had, before asking her one last question, "Can I help you with that?"

Lynette's ears perked up, and she subtly shifted her head slightly on your chest, her eyes widening slightly. "Y-You want to?"

"If it means I can make you feel more comfortable, then yes." You answered without hesitation, your voice gentle as you moved a hand up to scratch behind one of her ears, causing her to let out a small sound of approval.

"...Okay," Lynette nodded her head, agreeing to allow you to help her.

She was hesitant to move off of you for a moment, but eventually did. Once you were up and off the couch, you grabbed her hand and began tugging her towards your bedroom. You could tell she was eager by the way she stuck close to you and by the swishing of her tail.

Once entering your bedroom, you close the door and move to kiss her softly, and slowly. When you felt her wanting to deepen the kiss, you do, and from there it only escalates more and more until the kiss is sloppy and desperate.

"P-Please..!" Lynette whined against your lips, jumping up and wrapping her arms and legs around you, and you barely caught her as you carry her over to the bed.

"Okay-" You breath, dropping her down on your bed, and pinning her beneath your body, kissing her deeply and desperately, your hands moving to begin undoing her clothing. "Okay, shh, m'gonna help."

You don't really bother with undoing her top, mostly focusing your attention on undoing her bottoms. Once they were pulled down her legs, you hastily began undoing your pants, hissing as you felt Lynette's nails dragging down your arms in desperation.

She let out needy whimpers and whines, mouth agape as you finally free your cock from your pants. She pants, her cunt aching between her legs even more, the intensity of her heat becoming all too much. It's almost excruciating, the pain and heat coursing through her body.

"P-Please-!" Lynette whimpers, bucking her hips up against you, her pupils blown as she looks at you with a begging face. "P-Put it in!"

You dip a hand down between her legs first, checking to see if she was wet enough, and to your surprise, she was soaked. You hear her choke on a moan at the feeling of your fingers dragging through her folds, gathering up her slick before moving to lathering up your cock in it, while moving to position it at her entrance.

The second you press your tip into her, her back is arching off the bed with a loud cry, her body so sensitive from hours of suffering through the intense heat coursing through her body. You move to hold her close, pressing gentle kisses against her face, while pushing deeper into her before giving her some thrusts.

"F-Fuck, so wet and tight," You groaned, feeling her slick coating your cock quickly the more you thrusted in, and you swore she felt more tighter around you than normal.

"M-More-!" Lynette begged, her hands clinging onto your shoulders, digging her nails through your shirt and into your skin.

The pain made you hiss, but you didn't stop, not when you could see the agony of pleasure coursing through Lynette's face. So you thrust faster, pushing yourself deeper and deeper inside her tight pussy, spreading her perfectly to fit your cock.

You groan, pressing your face into her neck at the feeling of her wrapped around you. It felt so good, the way she was so tight, and all for you. The feeling made you not want to leave her, to keep her stuffed full of your cock just so you could feel her tightness for longer.

"O-Oh, Archons!" Lynette whined, pressing her body up against you, eyes rolling back in her head as she reaches her first orgasm quickly.

It's not surprising to you, considering she must have been holding all of this in all day, and finally being able to have this pleasure... makes sense why she was cumming all over your cock. It was long and intense, leaving Lynette shaking and unable to breath till it finally died down, and she could feel your gentle thrusts again.

"You okay?" You asked, your voice soft as you rocked your cock in and out of her gently, letting her feel every inch of it inside her, something that made her whimper through her gasps of breath.

"K-Keep going," Is the only thing Lynette responded with, moving to wrap her shaking arms around your neck and her legs around your waist.

Being all but trapped against Lynette, you obliged and began picking up your thrusts once again, and it didn't take you long to get back into the swift pace you had before. Small, but sharp thrusts deep into her, perfect to make her body erupt with pleasure as well as allow you to feel her tightness squeezing around you.

It felt amazing, and you didn't want to pull out, even when your orgasm was building more and more. You grunted, clenching your jaw as you felt that coil in your stomach, but you didn't want to stop, didn't want to pull out of her.

"Aghh, g-gonna-" You bury your face into her neck, grunting and unable to form the words you needed to say, but she knew, she understood.

"Inside!" Lynette quickly gasped, tightening her body around you and holding you closer, making sure you couldn't pull away. "P-Please, inside!"

Hearing her beg you to cum inside me fueled a fire inside you that you didn't know you had. With sudden brutal thrusts, your hips stuttered, until you pushing all of your length inside her and letting go, grunting into her neck.

A dopey smile spread across Lynette's face when she felt your cum filling her up. She layed there, shaking and moaning as she came with you, focusing on the feeling of your warm cum. You were left groaning and panting, wrapping your arms around her waist and tugging her closer to you, wanting to shove every drop of your cum into her.

Once you finished, you couldn't help but collapse on top of her, panting to catch your breath, eyes shutting as you focused on the feeling of being buried inside Lynette, a few words utteres from your mouth, "Gonna be the cutest mommy."

It had her freezing for a moment, her heart beating quickly in her chest, before you tail thumped against the bed, her joy from your words not being able to be held in. You smiled against her shoulder as you felt her nuzzling her face into your hair affectionately, a soft purr beginning to be heard.

Thoughts of having a family, kids of your own went through your head, a silent love passing between you both as you relished in one another's arms.

ENDING NOTES: May have rushed the end a bit, apologies, I just couldn't find a good fitting end to write.

#*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟsins writings #genshin impact #genshin smut #lynette #genshin!lynette #sub!lynette #lynette x reader #lynette x you

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footygirl114 · 3 months

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Corajuda (Alexia Putellas X Reader)

So Part 5! This one is for the handful of you who actually care to read it and make me want to keep writing. So thank you for sticking with me and continuing to read my series.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3 and Part 4

When the alarm goes off the following morning the first thing you were alerted to was that the alarm wasn’t the sound you use, and the warm body pressed into your side. Turning your head you opened your eyes and were met with a sight you could get used to, Alexia was leaned on her side, with her arm bent under her head looking down on you.

You could feel the smile grow on your lips as she says softly “Buenos dias hermosa.”

“Hi” you smiled up at her as you tangle your fingers with her hand that was sitting on your stomach.

The alarm goes off again and she looks towards the clock and with a groan says “We need to go, we woke up late.”

Echoing her groan you say “I don’t want to get up”

“me either, but we gotta go.” she finishes by pressing a kiss to the corner of your lips and she rolls off the other side of the bed. Your eyes track her movement as she gets up and gathers some clothes and disappears into the bathroom.

You take a moment and cover your face and whisper to your self “time to get up.”

Before you can sit up she leans her head out the bathroom door and says “You need to go get changed gorgeous, I gotta be at the field early” and she finishes with a wink as she disappears back into the bathroom.

Smiling to yourself you hop out of bed, grab your clothes you changed out of last night and move to leave shouting out “I am keeping your clothes Ale, but I will see you downstairs shortly.”

You can feel the smile on your face the whole time you are getting ready, and when you meet her downstairs she’s on the phone but you keep meeting her eyes with a smile in the rear view mirror. The usual drop off occurs with the new added bonus of her adding a wink before she disappears into the building.

Once you park and move to enter the building you pause for a moment outside to gather your breathe and push all thoughts of being in Alexia’s bed this morning to the back burner. You needed to focus and do your job to ensure her safety going forward. When you step into the lobby you are met with the head of the security team. You had organised this meeting the day prior and knew was necessary to keep Alexia safe.

“Jorge, Hi, thank you for meeting with me” You say to him and hold your hand out to the older man.

He smiles and shakes your hand with a “of course Y/N, I am always happy to help keep out team safe. Now come with me to my office.”

Nodding you follow the man down the hallway, into the security room. His office is off the back of the camera room and as you walk through you immediately note the team in the weight room on the cameras.

He point you to the chair across from his desk and when he sits down and relaxes like this is a joke to him it starts to make your blood boil. “So Y/N, I am not sure what we need to discuss, I have been keeping this team safe for many years.”

“As much as I want to agree with you, I can’t, not with how I have seen things organised in this federation” you tell him as you sit there, rigid back and keep your eyes locked on his.

He shifts like you hit a nerve and he says “What are you saying to me?”

“I am saying that I have been at 2 events where I was told that the federation has taken over the security and I wouldn’t need to worry and at both events Alexia was the target of some sort of attack” you tell him with a stern tone.

“Nothing happened yesterday” He says as he shifts and sits up to lean over his desk closer to you and he finishes snarling “you overreacted little girl.”

“I reacted exactly how I was trained. There was a threat and I got Alexia out of there before it could become worse” you start with him, you shift to sit straighter and say “You hired security yesterday, and I bet you didn’t screen them, cause if you did you would have found that the one of them was the same one that the police identified as being involved in the recent stalking of Alexia.”

He shifts back in his seat and says “How am I supposed to know that?”

You stand up and reach into your bag handing him a file “This is the file I emailed to your team, after the first situation, I sent a brief to your team so you would all have pictures and images of these guys and whats going on. If you didn’t care to read my emails that says more on you and how seriously you take your job than me.”

At this point he’s significantly shrunk back into his chair and he asks “What do you need from me?”

“I need you to take this seriously and care. I have the training and the background in this, just let me help.” you tell him with a smile.

He stands up and holds his hand out and says “Welcome to the team Y/N.”

Smiling you shake his hand and ask “Can we now go over the plans for the away trip?”

The next hour is spent pouring over the plans for travelling. The team was hopping on a plane later in the afternoon to fly to Germany for their first away champions league game. You were going with them but it was a purely work trip.

The travel goes smoothly and everyone makes it to the hotel safely. You barley got to speak to Alexia but every time your eyes met it was like there was this underlying secret you both share that you both cant help but smile about. She smirks and meets your eyes as the team disperses to bed, but you wouldn’t be able to do anything about it. The whole day made your body feel off and you knew it would be a hard night to sleep so you disappeared into the gym and exhausted yourself before you went to bed.

The next day was spent following the team to the training field and then to the stadium they were playing at the following day. You had a focus on the team and keeping your eyes peeled for the day. At one point you were standing on the side of the field and a ball came flying in and without thinking you controlled it on your knee and settled it to your feet and kicked it right back to Claudia who was running over for it.

You thought nothing of it and continued to do what you were doing before the ball came in. What you didn’t notice was Alexia watching you, she had her lip bit between her teeth as she watched you control the ball like it was nothing. It took Kiera hitting her on the back of the head to get her to focus back on the training session.

When it was over you were leaning on a wall near where the team would come out to get on the bus. You immediately met Alexia’s eyes as she walked out of the change room, and she walked closer to you and said “I didn’t know you could play?”

You smile at her and say “there’s a lot you don’t know about me Ms. Putellas.”

She takes a sneaky look around and darts forward and whispers into your ear “I can’t wait to find out more” and she tugs your ear with her teeth. She’s gone in a second walking towards the bus and as you watch her give her hips a little extra shake knowing your eyes are on her ass.

The rest of the trip goes smoothly. The team wins an easy 5-1 game, and goes out to dinner to celebrate. On the walk back from the restaurant to the hotel you and Alexia were the last to leave and were walking slightly behind the rest of the team. Alexia used the cover of darkness to keep rubbing her hand on yours.

After the third pass you chuckled and hooked your pinky with hers and say “Ms. Putellas it is very obvious you want to hold mu hand.”

She chuckles and moves closer so her shoulder is pressed to yours “I feel like I have barley spoken to you.”

“I’ve been working” you tell her.

She chuckles and pushes you into an alleyway and press your back against the wall and her again your front. You wrap your arms around her hips and keep her pressed close to you. “I had you in my bed for one night and overnight I want you back in it” she softly says looking into your eyes.

Smiling at her you lean down and press a kiss to her nose and say “we should catch up Ale.”

She smiles and leans up pressing a kiss on the corner of your mouth and says “lets go.” She chuckles and pulls away moving in the direction of the hotel and you follow her and catch up with the rest of the team.

The following morning after landing and transferring back to the bus and to the field. You are back driving Alexia home, when you go to drop her off she asks “Can you just park the car and we can walk in together?”

You meet her eyes in the mirror and nod pulling into the underground parking. You move and open her door and when she gets out you close the door and press her against it. “I want to take you out Alexia, I want to know everything about you, all the details that make you you. I want to know your coffee order, and what kind of wine you drink. I want it all” you tell her looking deep into her eyes.

She smiles and moves to wrap her arms around your neck and she says “I would like nothing more than that Y/N.”

“Tonight 7pm? I will pick you up?” you ask her.

“Let me check if my hot security guard can make that work” she chuckles and when you stick your tongue out at her she says “I will be ready for 7pm Y/N.”

You meet her eyes and look down at her lips and then back up at her eyes. “Alexia you need to leave now, or I wont be able to wait until later” you smile at her.

“What if I don’t want you to wait?” She asks.

Groaning you pull back a bit from her saying “I want to do this right, and if I kiss you right now we wont make it till 7pm Ale.”

She nods and leans up pressing a kiss to the corner of your lip and pulls back. She turns walking backwards and says “I can’t wait to see you later” with a wink she disappears behind the doors and you stand there smiling at the door for much longer than you admit.

#alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas imagine #alexia putellas #woso imagines #woso x reader #woso imagine #espwnt x reader

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loveshotzz · 3 months

Text

A sneak peek 🌻

[This snippet takes place after your first night back in Hawkins, the morning after a party that Steve had to take a very drunk you and Robin home from. The morning after some things were said that you don’t remember 😌]

📻 fic playlist

Birds chirp loudly, mocking the headache that's turned into something more annoying than painful after a handful of ibuprofen. The sticky air is still suffocating even in a pair of black biker shorts and an oversized loose fitting tee, while the sun shines golden against the cerulean sky without a cloud insight to hide you from its light.

The heat warming off its rays makes beads of sweat start to collect at the crown of your head and the nape of your neck, while the incline Eddie’s spinning auto body sign sits on top of threatens to take your breath away. Unwanted thoughts of Steve Harrington keep your pace quick, stewing over the last twenty four hours and everything it’s unraveled.

The small parking lot is empty, the toe of your sneaker kicking small rocks as you cross it. The double garage doors are open, Metallica’s Seek and Destroy echoing loudly, tugging up the corners of your lips. Your Chevrolet Caprice is the only car semi lifted in the air with a pair navy coverall clad legs underneath it.

Opening your mouth, Eddie’s name dies on your tongue before you have a chance to shout it, clocking him and his wild curls sitting in the glass office inside. Those big brown eyes meet yours from across the way, and a dimple filled grin cracks wide across his face as he stands up.

“Glad to see you’re alive princess.” He teases, stepping out of his glass case with coveralls that are clean today, not the stained mess they were last night.

“Honestly, it’s a miracle, but there’s no saying no to Robin, you know that.” You laugh, confused eyes darting to the large boots under your car that don’t seem to react to the sound of your voice.

“Trust me, I heard all about your first night back home. In fact my shop opened thirty minutes late because of it,” he chuckles, crossing his arms over his chest as he leans against the open metal frame where the door should be. Faded bats that you remember when they were fresh dance across his arm with his movements.

“Wait, what?” You ask, confusion pinching your brows together right as the mysterious pair of legs start pushing out whoever’s under your car.

“I didn’t get back to my place till almost four in the morning after getting you two home and in bed,” Steve Harrington emerges flashing you his million dollar smile as he sits up on the dolly, the sleeves of his own coveralls tied tight around his waist and hair wild like he’d just rolled out of bed.

“I slept through my alarm.”

The immediate glare that hardens your face when you see him has Eddie's eyes light up with obvious amusement.

“What are you doing here? And why are you touching my car?” You snap, trying to push the worries about what you look like deep under the irritation and the distraction that begs to steal your anger with his arms on full display like this. Or how the patch of chest hair that peeks out the top of his tank top shines with sweat.

“I work here,” Steve snorts like it’s the most obvious conclusion, because, well, it is, “and I volunteered to look at it, Eddie’s got his hands full.”

That was a lie, he begged him.

“Since when do you know anything about cars?” You snort, making him roll his eyes, pushing himself off the ground.

It’s a struggle to hold his gaze when he stands at full height, biceps flexing with his movements practically daring you to look. He pulls out a faded maroon rag from his pocket and starts wiping off the fresh black from his hands that’s already stained under his nail beds. The hard bottoms of his work boots making their way across the cement floors of the garage.

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me anymore, that’s what happens when someone leaves for five years.” Steve antagonizes, stopping just close enough for you to smell how the cedar of his cologne mixes with the sweet bitterness of the oil that seems to find a way to leave its mark on every surface in here. Including him.

“I’m going to finish balancing the books, why don’t you tell her the good news first and then the bad news,” Eddie pours ice over the tension that threatens to boil over before it can turn hostile, catching the way your nostrils flare and shoulders square up.

“Wait, there’s good news and bad news?” Your focus on Steve shifts as Eddie’s words sink in.

“Like I said, I’m going to finish balancing the books.” The metal head reminds you, giving a half salute with two fingers while simultaneously shooting a stern look to Steve who’s mouthing something behind you. “Your mechanic’s going to go over everything with you, we can talk about pricing when it’s all said and done.”

“Seriously?” You bluster as Eddie shrugs with the kind of nonchalance that sends you reeling before sitting back down, tuning the dial up on the speaker in his office.

End of discussion.

“Look -“

“How do I even know that you know what you’re talking about?” You interrupt, making his full lips set into a straight line.

“Are you going to be like this the whole time?” Steve sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose before crossing his arms, the tops of his shoulders moving with them. You can see the green that hides in his eyes, only shimmering if you look close enough in the sunlight.

A pleading expression softens his features instead of the hard combative one you were anticipating, and it has your blood pressure returning to normal. The realization hitting you that maybe skipping breakfast with a hangover probably wasn’t your smartest idea.

“N-no, sorry, I just feel like -“

“Shit? Yeah I bet.” He chuckles, and your jaw clicks. Maybe if you count to three…

“Just tell me what’s wrong with my car, Steve.” It comes out clipped, but it's an improvement from your fingers twitching to rip that handsome head right off those shoulders that won’t stop trying to distract you.

“How about you tell me the last time you had your oil changed?” He counters, taking a few steps back to sit on the hood of the rusted baby blue Buick behind him.

“Uhh, I- I think,” All the blood rushes to your cheeks, warming your skin as you try to wrack your brain and not focus on the way his legs spread wide to keep his balance. “Maybe like, six months ago.”

“Six months?!” The number must be worse than whatever Steve was preparing for when a dirty hand runs through his hair, “and then you drove it three states to get here?”

“Yeah, I - I mean, hearing you say it out loud,” you grimace thinking of all the weeks you ignored that flashing orange light on your dashboard.

“So then you shouldn’t be surprised when I tell you that your engine locked up.” He sighs with a disappointed expression.

“Is this the bad news?”

“Kind of,”

“What do you mean kind of?”

“Look, the good news is that I can fix it, the bad news is that I have to order a few parts that could take up to three weeks to get here, then the job itself is going to take me probably another week.” He sighs standing up, starting back towards your car with you quick on his heels.

“That’s the whole summer!” You argue like it could possibly make a difference, frustration pricking at the corners of your eyes watching him pop open the hood.

“More like half of it, but hey, you’re lucky I can even get it running again without having to replace the whole thing.” He meets your gaze from under his lashes leaning over the engine, long nimble fingers unscrewing the cap where your oil should go.

“So what am I supposed to do? How am I supposed to get around?” You know that part isn’t his problem, this entire mess is your own doing but it doesn’t stop it coming out in a whine. You blame your hangover.

“You’re gonna be just fine city girl,” Steve grins up at you before reaching even further under the hood, muscles flexing with him, “besides we both know I can’t say no to Robin.”

He pulls at a small tube that’s purpose is unknown to you but you keep eyes trained on his movements like you have an idea, anything to keep the focus off the gold chain that dangles from his neck.

“Or you.” The last part comes out so quiet, a focused look pinching his brows together as he continues his investigation.

“Me?”

He doesn’t look at you when he shrugs, pulling at something with a little more force that makes you both flinch.

“How much is this going to cost me, Steve?” Your defeat shows in your tone, as the question slips quietly from between your lips that you wish you’d have put gloss on now.

He grunts at the same time something pops against metal under his hands, muttering a string of curse words under his breath before standing back up wiping his palms on the white cotton of his tank top. Charcoal stains fill the small grooves in the fabric with each swipe of his hands, pulling the collar further down every time. It’s a losing battle not to look at his chest when every motion reveals more of the thick curls underneath.

Steve clears his throat, letting you know that you’ve been caught and it’s at this moment you wish you could walk in front of the moving truck that drives loudly past the shop, only exaggerating the silence that follows.

“Don’t stress about that today,” he smiles, letting you off the hook for now, something mischievous dancing in his eyes for another time. “Like Eddie said, we’ll figure it out.”

“Don’t stress about it?! Have you met me?” You huff, the money you’ve saved up for the summer starting to dwindle right before your eyes.

“I have actually,” Steve chuckles, stepping close enough for the tips of your shoes to touch his boots. He feels bold when you don’t make any attempt to move away like at the party or retreat when he closes the gap this time. A thumb and forefinger find their way to your chin, tilting your head up to meet his gaze, “and you’re going to be fine, I promise.”

Your lips part on their own, the full force of his face from this close stealing the breath from your lungs. You can smell the coffee he had this morning and the mint from his tooth paste still lingering on his breath. The stubble that lines his sharp jaw is even more noticeable today, tapering off at the top of his neck making the cluster of moles that live there stand out even more. A pink tongue runs over his full bottom lip and it has your lashes fluttering against the tops of your cheeks.

“Now go get some food, grumpy,” his voice comes out low, a teasing edge to it that reminds you of what it’s like to have Steve Harrington flirt with you. “I’ll call when I get the parts okay?”

It’s like detention junior year all over again, turning into putty in his hand. Still too attractive for his own good, all you can do is nod while all the fight you had left inside you disappears as the pad of his thumb swipes soft against your heated skin just under your pouted lip before letting you go. He turns on his heel after that, walking back to the box of tools he has spread out over his work bench before adding,

“Do me a favor though and tell Robin she owes me a new pair of sneakers.”

#my writing #steve harrington #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x fem!reader

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0nlythrowharrybeaux · 6 months

Text

With Discretion - Part 3 ^**

Sorry for the delay friends! I had a night lol But here is part 3! I'm panning on doing a little holiday check-in for this pair so it's supposed to end a little abruptly. More to come over the christmas/ny season!

Read the other parts here

Warnings: infidelity, mentions of insecurities, sexism, divorce. Oral (m receiving), face fuck, sex (unprotected p in v)

WC: 17.5K

It was nearly 6:30am when you were awakened by some knocks on the door. You groaned and yawned before trudging out of the comfort of the large king bed that you had melted into for the night. When you opened it up, eyes slightly squinting a bit through the blurriness of your vision you saw Harry holding two large mugs and wearing an amused smile on his face.

“God, I knew you woke up pretty.” He said softly and you sniggered as you opened the door to let him in.

“Oh, sure thing.” you replied groggily with a giggle as he stepped inside.

“Good morning, by the way. I ummm, just wanted to come by and see the sunrise with you. I can leave if you’re still in need of some more sleep, but I was trying to hint at it yesterday when I mentioned it and-”

“I did get the hint. You beat my alarm by 3 minutes actually!” You smiled, “I just wasn’t sure if ummm…you’d be joining me or not, but I’m glad you’re here.” You assured him. “M’just gonna brush my teeth and ummm, grab a sweater or something.”

“Yeah, it’s a bit cold out.” He said and then just made his way outside to the balcony and while you went into the bathroom to freshen up a bit. As soon as you were more awake and cozy you headed out to join him on the balcony. “I tried the new milk steamer they have in the kitchen and made cappuccinos, I think.” He said as he handed you one of the mugs and you smiled, “Didn’t sweeten it or anything though.” He warned as you looked down into it.

“S’alright. Good coffee doesn’t need sweeteners.” You said with a smile.

“Well I hope it’s good then.” He joked and you both laughed softly before turning to the horizon that was turning a lighter shade of blue now, a very light hint of orange starting to emerge from the darkness. “Did you sleep well?”

“Yes, thank you. I need that bed though, it’s phenomenal.” You hummed and he smiled.

“It really is. I’m glad you were comfortable.”

“And what about you?” You asked him.

“Good too. Had a dream…a nightmare actually about some thief breaking into my home and stealing all my tiramisu!” You immediately burst into laughter, “Don’t know what could’ve brought that on but… that’s what I dreamt of.” he said with a grin.

“Yeah, I wonder…” you joked with a playful roll of your eyes and a gentle nudge of your elbow into his side. You let your laughter subside and the sound of the waves on the shore took over, bringing a peaceful silence over you for a few minutes. The sky was clearing up more and more by the minute, showing off its splendor without any hesitation.

“Are you nervous about going home?” Harry asked you and you set your cappuccino down on the thick rail of the balcony.

“A little bit.” You admitted, “Wish I could just fast forward to the end of it all.” You sighed and he extended his left arm over your shoulders and pulled you into his side.

“I’m sorry.”

“Thanks.” You sighed and looked at the sun starting to peek up over the horizon, “You were right, this is gorgeous.” You hummed.

“Yeah, it’s really something.” He smiled as he leaned his head against yours. “You know, I could give Cal a raise so he has to pay you more in alimony.” He mused and your body started shaking with laughter before it inevitably squawked out of you. Your head was thrown back as he laughed along with you, really happy that this is how you reacted to his little joke.

“Ah, that’s funny…” you hummed when your laughter died down.

“I’m like 25% serious.” He added and you shook your head.

“You’re silly.” You smiled before sipping at your cappuccino.

“Just a little bit.” He grinned. “What’s the first thing you’re gonna do after you settle the divorce?” He asked and you hummed pensively.

“Take my Italian vacation…” you hummed, “I’ve been begging Cal to take me on a romantic getaway to Italy for years! Like a month-long thing though. I want to get to know the entire country.” You smiled. “But I think I can take myself on a romantic getaway.” You said and he hummed.

“That sounds like a wonderful time. Italy is probably my favorite country.” He hummed. “Does your entire trip have to be…by yourself? Or can you afford a little extra baggage for a few days?” He asked and you twirled around and smiled up at him.

“A few days, huh?” You asked and he nodded with a coy smile, “Mmm…perhaps that’s arlright.” You smiled.

“Ok… and well for the rest of your trip, I know a lot of really excellent spots, have a lot of friends in Italy. Chefs, architects, artists…could fix you up with them when you’re in their region? See the best parts of each place.” He offered.

“Ummm, yeah! That sounds phenomenal. It’ll take me a bit to plan, but I’m definitely interested in that.” You assured him.

“Alright. When you have a date let me know.” He said and you nodded. You just stayed looking at each other and your heart fluttered when his dimple started carving deeper into his cheek.

“What?” You asked and he shrugged.

“Just…excited for you, I guess. Like, you’re going to be just fine. I really love that for you.” He said and you felt your cheeks warming with a blush.

“Thank you, I think I will be fine too.” You agreed.

“OK, the good part is starting!” He said and twirled you back around and you both set down your mugs. You smiled at the now purple and orange ranges of colors that were painted across the sky as the blazing sun started showing more of its brilliant face. Your smile widened with each passing second as more of it started to emerge seemingly from nowhere at all. It was breathtaking to say the least.

You couldn’t help but feel that this was the perfect thing to witness as the sun rose on a new journey in your own life. It was kind of poetic. It made you smile as you leaned a bit more weight back on Harry and he held you a bit closer. The moment was solemn as you both kept the quiet between you and just let yourselves feel the awe of the moment.

Harry was in his head as much as you were though. He was thinking about where things would go with you from here. He supposed you’d want some time to just reacquaint yourself with yourself. He figured that you would probably move out, but would you stay in New York or head off somewhere else? Would you go back to work and give up your business? Would you even be interested in a romantic anything with anyone for a while? Because he wanted that with you…or to at least try. He had huge crush on you and the more time he spent with you the bigger it got. Obviously, he didn’t know nearly enough about you, but he was interested in getting to know you deeply. He was quite enamored with you just from what he’d already seen and experienced for himself.

“What’s your favorite color?” You suddenly asked and he smiled.

“Green.”

“Like your eyes?” You asked and he chuckled.

“No. Like…a jade color.”

“So basically your eye color.” You sniggered, teasing him.

“Yeah, I guess so then.” He sighed in defeat, “Just makes me feel calm. And you?”

“Right now…mmm, like an orange color. Like…oh, well just like that I guess.” You said as you pointed to the little sliver of sky right above the rising sun. “It just makes me feel warm and fuzzy…I don’t know.” You said.

“Yeah, I can see why.”

“It just looks so…happy.” You shrugged with a smile, “I can’t wait to just…feel it for myself again, you know? Like from the inside.”

“You will.” He assured, “I promise you will.” He said with certainty and you turned around, your eyes met his. You reached for his face and he wrapped his arms around your waist and you kissed him deeply. You melted against his warmth, loving the feeling of your lips meeting together passionately. You hadn’t felt this riled up in years. You could jump out of a plane with how invincible you currently felt. As you pulled apart and your eyes blinked open they met with his. Harry’s lips twitched up in a grin and you just nuzzled down into his neck timidly.

“I really like you.” You confessed and he just squeezed you a bit tighter.

“I really like you too.” He hummed with a smile as he stared at the sunrise.

After that lovely moment between the two of you, you went your separate ways and it was back down to reality. You had just been watching TV, waiting for Caleb to wake up when your phone rang and you saw it was a call from him.

“Hello?”

“Did you leave?” He asked tiredly.

“No. M’upstairs, had Gerard give me another room.” You explained.

“Alright. Well ummm, I’m just gonna have a shower real quick and we can stop somewhere for breakfast, yeah?”

“I’d rather not. Just want to get home and have that talk.” You said to him.

“Sweetheart, I’m so fucking hungover.”

“Cal, you need to stop stalling.” You sighed.

“We can even start the conversation in the car! I just feel horrible right now and need to get something in my system.” He groaned.

Not even twenty minutes later you were sitting across from each other in the booth of a little diner off the first exit of the highway. You had already had your coffee, so you were just getting through some French toast while Cal nursed his second cup of coffee while he forcibly nibbled on some toast and bacon. You were looking at him expectantly and it appeared like he wanted to speak but the words were stuck somehow. You sighed in disappointment and surrendered, just glancing down to your food instead of him. You had just finished cutting off another piece of your French toast, just about ready to guide it into your mouth when he spoke up.

“I want a divorce.” Caleb’s words were low, but clear. Coward. He couldn’t do it while you were looking at him.

“Good. I do too.” You said cooly and he let out a quick, dry laugh. His response made you look up at him. “What?” You asked.

“That there is one of the things I…hate about you.” He said with a smile. His eyes weren’t full of contempt or spite, they were more amused than anything, it confused you for a second, “I used to love it though. S’one of the things I loved the most about you.” He said with a smile, “The way you’re so collected…so unaffected by everything.” He said and when you realized he wasn’t being a dick you smiled. “You’ve always been too good for me. I knew that.” He said with a hint of defeat in his voice.

“I met Dani. She threw up.” You said and he frowned upon hearing this.

“What’d you say to her to make her react that badly?” He questioned as he glanced down into his mug.

“Nothing. She just…felt so guilty I think? I actually pulled her to a trashcan before she puked all over herself.” You informed and he hummed.

“Well, it’s big of you to be nice to her.”

“Why? She didn’t do anything to me?” You pointed out and he smiled and nodded.

“Right.” He sighed before licking over his lips nervously. “It’s different with her.” He said and you now glanced down at your food again. “She’s just as brilliant, but in a more…reserved way.” He said and you chuckled.

“In a way that’s less intimidating, you mean?”

“Yeah, I guess so.” He said.

“Since when have I felt that way to you?” You questioned.

“I don’t know…I suppose I’ve always felt that way to some extent but over the last couple years it’s been…too much.” He explained.

“Is it something I’ve done?” You asked. Wanting to know if there were things that you did to make him feel less than. Because if there were, you definitely wanted to clear the air with him about those things.

“No. No. You’ve always been lovely.” He assured you. “It is an issue with me, 100%.”

“OK.” You said quietly.

You still had so many questions for him, but were soon back on the road and you’d occasionally type them into your notes app as the questions arose. When you got home the tensions seemed to rise between you two. It was a nervous type of tension versus one of anger. You were very past the point of being angry at Cal for his cheating. You were still a bit irritated for the whole dinner thing, if you gave it some thought but your time with Harry had made the shit show worth it, so you were no longer dwelling on it.

“Should we get a couple drinks?” He asked you nodded and followed him to the bar area in your home. You hoisted yourself up onto one of the stools as he headed behind the bar. He just served you both a scotch on the rocks despite it only being about 11am. “Well, it’s five o’clock somewhere.” He said as he handed over your drink and you just knocked it back quickly while he savored his.

“So Dani…how did that happen?” You asked him as he set his tumbler down.

“Just working together. She’s really good at stats, so I would always check my work with her. I felt like maybe I bugged her a lot, so I just started being a bit more friendly to not…annoy her as much, but I soon realized that I liked her vibe. It started out really platonic, like just work stuff, then we started getting lunch together every now and then, then afternoon coffees and ummm….yeah. It just happened over time.” He explained.

“How long?”

“We were together for a year.” He explained and you nodded.

“And before then? Have you…been with other people?” You asked and he sighed.

“Yes.” He confirmed and you swallowed thickly.

“The whole time?” You asked, not being able to look at him.

“Yes.” He confirmed shamefully and that’s when the tears started to form.

“Jesus…” you whispered.

“I just don’t think I was ready to get married when we did.” He said and you took a deep breath before scoffing.

“It was your idea to get married, Cal!” You said with frustration and he sighed.

“I know…I just…thought that that’s what you wanted. Like when we talked about it, it just seemed like you were excited for it and I just thought that…if I didn’t show you that I was serious about you that you’d…leave me. That’s why I proposed to you.”

“I mean who isn’t excited at the prospect of getting married but…did you want to marry me?” You asked him.

“I was sure I would want to down the line…like I didn’t do it just like that. I mean, I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t think I would get there. I mean…I’ve always had a wandering eye…I just thought it would…change.”

“Well if you’ve never tried to work on that before it just wouldn’t suddenly go away, you know?” You said and he shrugged.

“Well, s’too late for that now.” He said.

“Yeah…” you whispered as you wiped a stray tear from under your eye, “So now you’re in love with Dani?”

“Yeah and she wants absolutely nothing to do with me so…” he said with disappointment.

“How did she find out?” You asked.

“I have a note on my phone about how to bring this up to you and she saw it. I had to explain it to her and she just blew up on me.” You looked at him like he was an idiot.

“I think anything less than that would’ve been a bad reaction, Cal. If she loves you too and just discovered that your whole relationship is actually an affair of course she lost her mind! She probably feels awful!” You scoffed.

“Well, I told her that I’m in love with her and that I wanted to be with her though. Like, I wanted to end things with you for her and like…I guess I hoped she’d come around with that information, but it’s been months and she will barely even look at me. ”

“Can you blame her?” You questioned and he sighed.

“Guess not. I don’t know if she’ll ever forgive me but…either way, I think that our marriage has run its course.”

“I think so too.” You agreed and he sighed. “I ummm…knew you were cheating since the beginning of the year.” You confessed and his eyes met yours. “You accidentally made a reservation from our shared account while I was on there looking at a reimbursement from a client. I showed up to your office before the time of the reservation, thinking it was like a work thing, best case scenario.” You explained, “Obviously, you weren’t there… but then I started noticing other things and inconsistencies when you’d talk to me about supposed work trips…and I just…didn’t know how to bring it up.”

“It wasn’t your responsibility to.” He said and well, that much was true, “Honestly, I haven’t been happy with you for a long time, Y/N. I should’ve said something about it when my feeling started to change. I’m really sorry, you didn’t deserve this.” He apologized sincerely.

“Thank you.” You said and he nodded.

“So ummm, I think we need to meet with Shawn to draw up some divorce papers.”

“Yeah…I’ll call him tomorrow morning, see if he has some time this week.”

“Perfect. Ummm, I think I should probably go stay somewhere else.”

“Yeah, if you want to.” You said to him and he nodded.

“I actually ummm, already have another place in the city. It’ll be easier with work and all.”

“Oh! Ummm, yeah that’s alright then.”

“It’s with my money by the way. I haven’t used anything we’ve put together for that. Or for Dani. Or any woman for that matter.” He said, as if that would somehow make all of it better.

“Alright, well thanks.” You chuckled and he shook his head.

“Again, I’m really sorry for all of this, Y/N.” Cal said and you smiled sadly.

“Yeah, me too.” You whispered.

“OK, I’m going to pack a bag. Just let me know what Shawn says.”

“Will do.” You said before he chugged down the rest of his drink and then left quietly.

You still had so many questions, but you didn’t know that they were even worth asking anymore. The more Caleb had spoken the worse things had gotten for you. You sniffled a bit, but just held in all of your tears because he really wasn’t worth it. You slid off of the counter and washed the tumblers before setting them on the rack beside the small sink to drip dry. You then reached for your phone and texted Cecilia to see if she was available for dinner. Thankfully she was and you just avoided Caleb by doing miscellaneous tasks around the house until he was gone with a large suitcase and duffle bag.

You got showered and then ordered in a fat pizza so that you and Cecilia could binge out a bit while you shared what had happened. She knew that you suspected Cal of cheating and that there was plenty of evidence against him, but wait until she heard all of this…and well, Cece’s responses never disappointed.

“That dog!” She gasped when you finished telling her about how he said he’d always been sleeping with other people. Now you were in tears because you were grieving your life…your time…your youth! You were so young when you got married to Caleb but you were in love with him then, so you thought it wasn’t a bad idea. But you wish you’d been less naive, you wished you’d listened to your family and your friends who were concerned about this decision. For the first time in your life you felt like you were stupid…over a man’s mistakes! It infuriated you that you felt like that. Why should you feel bad or regretful over things you’d done out of love? It made no sense, but here you were, actually feeling regret for marrying Caleb.

“Do not bring sweet, innocent dogs into this.” You hiccuped before setting your wine glass down. God, you’d be in the shit tomorrow with the hangover you knew you’d have. You had a bunch of meetings with some potential vendors the next day since the lady you used for all your tents and table rentals was moving out of state and taking her business with her. Plus you now had to contact your lawyer to tell him about the divorce. It was just going to be a bad day tomorrow.

“You’re right.” Cece said with a pout, just as drunk as you were, “What a scum bag.” She finished and you sighed.

“Do you remember Harry?” You asked randomly and she turned to you with a furrow in her brow.

“Harry from the club?” She asked and you nodded as you sniffled.

“That’s his boss.” You said and then bit your lip, “We…fucked…well he did all of the fucking…” you confessed and she turned to you, jaw on the ground.

“You did not!”

“I did.”

“That night?”

“Yeah.” You confessed. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about him this entire time. Like he was so fucking wonderful! And ummm, last night too while Cal was off somewhere, drunk off his ass. Harry railed me in the kitchen until my legs were as weak as overcooked noodles and then he licked tiramisu off my tits and I have a huge crush on him!” You blurted out and Cece started screaming and laughing. You both looked insane, all snotty with swollen eyes from crying together and now screaming and giggling like school girls over the most fantastic lay of your life.

“Oh my god! He’s so hot…even licked tiramisu off your tits…that sounds like a dream…” she hummed in approval.

“It really is.” You said quietly. “I mean, he’s always so nice to me. That first time, at the hotel, he told me if I was his he’d never take me for granted like Cal does.” You said more solemnly.

“Sounds like he likes you too.”

“Oh, he does…Even suggested that we just be friends til everything gets sorted out with Cal, which is so sweet of him.”

“He sounds fake.”

“Right!?” You exclaimed, “Like way too good to be true.”

“If he’s so perfect why isn’t he with someone?”

“He did mention before that he hadn’t met someone who he really wanted to settle down with, so he’d just been seeing people very casually.”

“Awww…what if you’re the one he wants that with?” She cooed in her drunkenness and despite the butterflies in your tummy at the mere idea of getting to date Harry, you tutted.

“I don’t think we know each other that well.” You reasoned, “As long as he’s not all fragile like Cal I think there’s a chance. I mean, I toughened up because Cal said I was too soft to be an entrepreneur! I honed in on those traits and skills. I stepped into my power, not just as a business owner, but as a woman! And now he tells me I’m too abrasive and intimidating? Like…what if Harry likes those qualities in me now, but like Cal, he’ll soon discover that he wants someone who’s of an easier disposition as a partner?”

“You mean a pushover?”

“I don’t think women who aren’t outspoken are pushovers…” you clarified, “But like, some of us are just a bit more outspoken, you know? I don’t think I’m tactless or rude about it, and certainly not emasculating-”

“Men emasculate themselves. If Caleb has never felt that he’s been good enough for you then at one point or another all of this would’ve ended anyway. The problem in this marriage was him, babe. Get it through your head! Don’t let him make you feel like being who you are and stepping into your power were the problems. Like you said, he wanted that for you and now that he feels less than he thinks it’s bad? Sexist. Sexist. Sexist!” Cece said with harsh claps for added emphasis and you smiled.

“You’re right.” You ceded.

“Of course I am!” Cece guffawed and you sighed. “Do you think Harry will fire him?” She asked.

“Harry’s not petty like that, I don’t see why he would. I mean, Cal’s good at his job and like, as much as Harry and I are friendly, my personal problems with Caleb have nothing to do with their work, you know?”

“I guess you’re right. Though, I do think it’d be more satisfying for everyone involved if Cal stays working there and has to see you with his boss.” Cece said and you laughed.

“I wouldn’t want to rub his face in it…”

“Oh please, what do you think he did to you last night at that dinner, babe? Intentional or not, he set you up! Genuinely, how did he think people would react to the news of him being married out of nowhere?” She questioned, “You need to stop taking the high road and just hit below the belt, just once! It feels so good, I swear it does!” Cece pleaded with you.

“Yeah, we’ll see…” you hummed with a smile. “Like I don’t want to make him feel bad on purpose, you know?”

“Fuck that! He deserves it and you deserve to see Karma doing her best work to restore balance to the universe.” She said simply and you giggled. Count on Cece to always want to see justice served, it’s not that you didn’t, but you just didn’t like forcing Karma’s hand. You knew it would all happen in it’s due time and you could wait.

… ONE MONTH LATER …

You were doing really well on your own. You’d started putting more effort into your business, which saw it growing. You’d started taking better care of yourself, and much to Cece’s dismay, channeled your rage into a new hobby - gardening. Which as peaceful as it was meant to be, was actually full of rage because you absolutely hated it. You hated dirt, you hated how needy plants were…but were trying to learn to love it. She’d scolded you many times over the fact that you weren’t just plowing Harry every chance you got. But like you had explained to her and him before, you just needed to figure things out for yourself before you involved anyone new in your new life. You had spoken to him on the phone a few weeks back for an hour, just catching up and checking in on each other, but apart from that he was giving you space which you desperately needed.

Maybe you didn’t love Caleb anymore, but you were still grieving everything that could’ve been. No one who gets married out of love goes in thinking that it’s going to end in divorce. Sure, it’s always a possibility, but every person went into it hoping that they would beat the odds, not become a statistic, yet here you were. Thankfully though, the divorce proceedings were going swimmingly thanks to the prenup, which you had insisted on if only to prove to Caleb all those years ago that you were in it for love and not his money. Cal had always been very generous though and helped with a lot of your debts from school and other big expenses from when you were younger and struggling. But thanks to that, you were both leaving the marriage without many losses. Though Cal’s generosity was once again proven when he assured you that he’d take care of the legal fees since he’d been the one who’d ended the marriage long before you guys took a step towards divorce.

You were still trying to find a place of your own to live. Cal had charged you with overseeing any renovations on the house that would make it more marketable so at least for the time being you weren’t being rushed out of the house. But you were debating on whether you should stay in the suburbs or head into the city. However, the more you looked into it the more you were convinced that New York City was not a place you wanted to live. Sure, it was gorgeous, but it was a bit gross, prone to flooding, infested with tons of critters, and those were just a few deal breakers among other inconveniences. And finding a place that had minimal exposure to all of these things would cost you an arm and a leg. Also, your clientele was largely in the suburb areas, so you were staying put for now until you found something else.

You’d already done a lot of renovating to the home when you purchased it, so there wasn’t too much apart from some flooring changes to the staircase and renovating the half bath and it’s connected outdoor shower that was used for your luxurious saltwater pool. You had just shown out the flooring guy when your work phone started ringing and you glanced down to see a number you didn’t recognize and let it go to voicemail as you weren’t really able to take any new clients right now. It was a bit later in the day when you realized that this caller had left a voicemail. So you put it on speaker as you opened up your fridge to grab a snack when you heard a shaky exhale through the speaker.

“Ummm, hi Y/N. This Is Daniela, I got your number from Tamika. I hope you don’t mind.” She spoke nervously, “Uh, I was wondering if you were available for a talk over lunch, o-or dinner or just some drinks sometime this week? I just wanted to talk about ummm…Caleb.” She said, “This is my cell, so feel free to call me or text me. Ummm, yeah, bye.”

You bit your lip as you thought about it for a moment. As much as you didn’t want to get involved in the throws of their affair, you at least wanted to clear the air with her and assure her that you didn’t blame her for the demise of your marriage. You had your divorce hearing in a month and you didn’t want to start making Cal think you were ganging up on him with his mistress, so you wanted to tread lightly. You decided to consult with your trusty best friend before calling Dani back.

“Hey girl!” Cece greeted cheerfully and you instantly smiled.

“Hey! How’s your day?” You asked and she hummed.

“It’s been…interesting.” She said, “But I have a feeling it’s about to get better.” She sang and you chuckled.

“I’m just calling for your input, nothing to do with Harry-”

“A damn shame.” She interjected and you sniggered.

“Dani called me. She wants to meet up with me.” You said and Cece perked up.

“Ooh…”

“I don’t know if I should go though.”

“OK, why not?” She asked.

“I just don’t want Caleb to think I’m plotting against him. Like, we’re just so close to finalizing the divorce and going our own ways. I don’t want to stir up any trouble.” You explained.

“Then just tell him you’re gonna talk to her. You don’t have to keep it a secret.” Cece said and you groaned.

“I know! But I know he’s going to say no and give me shit about it-”

“Well too fucking bad! At least you’re giving him a warning!” She said and you giggled.

“Right…I might also be nervous because…I’m thinking of perhaps asking to see Harry after.” You confessed and Cece’s excited shriek made you giggle, “Not for sex.” You said.

“Boo…” she grumbled and you rolled your eyes.

“I just…miss him a bit. He’s been so understanding, but like…I forget about the stress when he’s around. He makes me feel…really good.” You said and Cece cooed.

“Awww babe, I really think you should talk to Dani and then get any sympathy you have for Cal fucked out of you so good you don’t have problems for the next few years.” She said and you laughed loudly.

“God, Cecelia…” you scoffed.

“It’s what you deserve.” She said simply and you smiled.

“You know, I should just call you when I need to hear what I want to hear.” You mused and she cackled.

“What’re best friends for?” She asked and you smiled. After agreeing to meet up over the weekend for brunch at yours, you decided to call Dani back. You agreed to meet for lunch on Friday, which was good, hopefully you could arrive a bit early and surprise Harry. Your eyebrows furrowed when you heard the front door open and walked over to the entrance of the home to see Caleb walking through the door.

“Hey!” You greeted him with a smile as you approached him and he smiled as well as he swung the door shut and walked up to you and quickly kissed your cheek.

“Hey, you look great!” He complimented you, “How’s it been?” he asked as he pulled back.

“Good. The flooring guy just left a bit ago, he’s gonna remove the carpet from the stairs. And then the contractor is coming tomorrow to see about the pool shower/bathroom.”

“Perfect.” He smiled.

“Yeah. And what brings you here?” You asked.

“I have a business trip to San Diego.” He said as he made his way up the stairs, “It’s legit.” He added as he glanced back at you, wearing a smirk and you rolled your eyes.

“And you had to come here for?” You questioned, as you made your way into your previously shared bedroom that was now just yours.

“I need t’pack my lighter clothes. S’still summertime in California! Or have you been gone so long you already forgot?” He asked as he walked into your closet and you plopped down onto the bed. “Can you grab my suitcase from the trunk of the car? I forgot it!”

“Yeah!” You called out and headed downstairs and grabbed his empty luggage from the car. Soon you were placing it on the bed and he was coming out with a few shirts. He seemed in a chipper mood, so you were going to bring up the Dani thing while he was.

“Should I take the yellow one?” He asked of the light yellow shirt he brought out.

“No, it kinda washes you out. Also you’ll look like Dwight Schrute.” You said and he chuckled.

“You’re right.” He said and set it aside and grabbed another instead.

“It’s good you’re here though, I was actually going to call you about something later.”

“What was it?” He asked as he inspected another shirt.

“Ummm…Dani called me.” You said and he glanced up at you. You saw the glint of hope in his eyes.

“What did she want?”

“Just to talk. We’re gonna have lunch on Friday.” You said and he sighed, “And I don’t intend to…shit talk you to her or anything. I think she’s just…feeling a bit lonely. Probably wants to make sure I don’t hate her or something.” You said and he nodded.

“Yeah, I think she needs that.” He said and you hummed.

“How’ve you been doing?”

“I mean, way better at work now that I have nothing else to do.” He said with a small smile, “Just getting by, I guess… waiting every day hoping that she’ll talk to me…let me explain…anything really.” He said a bit sadly as he proceeded to fold up some trousers, “I didn’t know I could feel so strongly about a person. I mean, I thought that with you that was as much love as I could feel. We just connected so well you know?”

“Oh I was there…” you recalled with a smile and he did as well.

“I felt challenged. Like that sounds…bad, but you were something to work towards, you know? You kept me on the edge of my seat. So good that you made me want to be better. To be more…hence the whole CFO thing. I felt like I needed to aim higher.” He explained.

“But with her?”

“With her I felt like…enough for the first time in a really long time. And I can’t discredit any of our marriage, because you’ve pushed me to achieve a lot of the things I wanted to achieve. But I don’t know, it just kind of felt like…”

“Like we never quite found the sweet spot?” You asked and he nodded.

“Yeah. It’s like happiness was always just out of reach. Like I could see it, but I couldn’t get there.” He explained, “Was it like that for you?” He asked and you shrugged.

“I guess so, but I didn’t know it until you said it just now.” You explained as you extended your hand asking him to hand you some of his undershirts to fold and pack up. He did so easily, “I mean, as you know, my parents are still married. But they’ve never been all that affectionate with each other so I didn’t think there was anything wrong with how we were you know? Like that was the picture I had growing up, always striving for more, and well, they’ve made it this far.” You said and he hummed.

“Right… my parents are like that too. Do you think they settled?”

“Well historically, men settle for partners more than women.” You explained and his eyebrows arched upon hearing that, “It’s called settling for Ms. Good-Enough. So men are more likely to settle for a partner who meets most of their expectations rather than the person they really want out of fear of missing the train, or whatever people call it.” You said, “At the end of the day I guess we’re all scared of being alone.” You said as you dropped a neat stack of his undershirts in his luggage.

“Yeah, I guess so.” He hummed, “Do you think Dani will ever forgive me?”

“Yeah, I’m sure she will but I don’t think that necessarily means she’ll give you another chance.” You said to him and he frowned, “I mean, you have to understand just how humiliating this is for her. You let her fall in love with you and made her think that she was your one and only, only for her to discover that she was actually your side chick! I mean, that doesn’t mean your feelings weren’t real, but it’s…shitty to find out you’re the other woman. It’s happened to me before in college and it sucks. Moreso when I got bitch slapped for “seducing a taken man” when I had no idea he was taken! I think that’s why I’m nice to her because it’s not her fault and I shouldn’t take out my frustration on her. Like it sucks to be in that position. You wonder if there’s any world in which you would’ve been the first choice. Or if you were the first choice, would that person still go off and find someone else? And it feels like…you just can’t win. Either way you feel horrible about yourself and it doesn’t matter how much love exists, you still feel stupid and foolish for falling for something like that. I know that you love her, Cal, but you really hurt her and you need to respect how she navigates this.”

“Can you at least tell her to talk to me? I just want to properly apologize to her. Not some rushed interaction like we’ve had. I won’t try and change her mind I just need her to know that she…means everything to me and that I fucked up. I need her to know that.”

“Cal, I don’t want to mettle. I don’t want to be her friend, I just need her to know that I don’t blame her.” You said and he nodded in understanding.

“Do you hate me?” He asked after a beat of silence.

“No, Cal. I just wish…I knew about all of this early on so that we could try to…not make such a big mess.” You said and he smiled.

“Yeah. Next time.” He said and you smiled. “What about you? Anyone new on your radar?” He asked and you considered talking to him about Harry for a moment, but quickly decided against it, you could keep this to yourself until you actually figured it out.

“No, just been focusing on me and the business. Hanging out with Cece a bit much…been drinking way too much on the weekends.” You said and he chuckled.

“Cece is fun.” He said and you nodded, “I’m surprised she hasn’t hooked you up with the eligible bachelors of New York.” He chuckled.

“Oh believe me, she has tried!” You laughed as you reached over and grabbed another pair of slacks he had brought out.

“Of course. She acts fast.” He said and you nodded. “Well I am always rooting for you. I hope you know that.”

“I am rooting for you too.” You assured him, “So long as you’re being good.” You said and he grinned.

“Yeah, lesson learned.” He stated with a smile, “My flight doesn’t leave until 9:30pm. Want to have some dinner and drop me off?” He asked and you side eyed him.

“Only if I can drive the Quattroporte.” You said and he grinned.

“Fine.” He agreed, much to your surprise. But he was lonely and just needed to be around someone. You felt bad for him, but there really wasn’t much you could do about that.

Cal’s flight was leaving from JFK so you drove a bit closer to get some dinner in that area. It was nice just chatting, talking about your plans after everything was finalized with your divorce. You took your time and were really enjoying how amicable things were between you two, and finally the time came to drop him off at the terminal.

“Thank you for being so gracious about everything, Y/N. I don’t deserve it after everything I’ve put you through. You’re…remarkable and I was right.” He said and you furrowed your eyebrows in confusion.

“About?”

“You being too good for me.” He said and you smiled at him and shook your head.

“Have a good flight.”

“Thanks.” He said before getting out of the car. He grabbed his luggage and with one final wave he was heading inside and you were heading back home.

The next two days went by rather quickly and you were now nervously trying to pick something out to wear to lunch with Dani that would probably also make Harry swoon just a bit. You were planning on getting there a bit early to see if Harry had a few minutes and were manifesting that he was available. You ended up choosing to wear a nice fall outfit with some flared, tan corduroy pants, a thin black turtleneck long sleeve, and some pointed black, heeled boots. You grabbed your purse and hurried out and took off for the city. You had no idea why you felt nervous, but your stomach was in complete knots the entire drive.

Finally, you were inside and riding up the elevator to the administrative floor, fidgeting with the rings on your fingers. It was nearing lunch time so there were people hurrying about as you calmly made your way past reception, the other offices, and back to where his office was, according to the map you scanned when you walked off of the elevator. You saw Tamika straightening out a few things at a desk near Harry’s office and approached her.

“Hey Tamika!” You smiled at her and she glanced up at you.

“Hey Y/N! What a nice surprise to see you up here.” And then her smile faltered a bit, “Oh ummm, Dani told me she was meeting with you. I’m sorry about everything with Cal.” She said and you shook your head.

“It’s alright. I knew about it a while ago. At least we can end it amicably.” You said and she nodded.

“Yeah, as long as he’s not an asshole about it.” She said with you sniggered and nodded.

“No, he’s been very good about it.” You assured him, “Are you heading to lunch?”

“I’m actually, leaving for the day. I only have afternoon classes today.” She explained.

“Oh OK.” You said and she smiled.

“Cal’s away on business in San Diego but-”

“I actually wanted to talk to Mr. Styles-er Harry for minute. Is he in by any chance?”

“Yeah, he’s in there.” She smiled, “You can just go on in.” She assured you with a smile and you nodded.

“Thank you! I hope class goes well.”

“Thanks! Have a good weekend.” She said before grabbing her bag and waving as she headed off. You waved back before turning around and walking the few steps over to Harry’s office. You gave a few knocks before pushing open the heavy, partially frosted glass door and peeking in.

As soon as Harry detected some movement he glanced up from the documents in his hands and you saw his face light up at the sight of you.

“Oh my god, hi! What’re you doing here?” He questioned as he immediately pushed himself up from his seat as you headed towards him. You hummed happily as he hugged you and you hugged him back, letting your body fit against his so perfectly.

“Dani asked to meet me to talk over lunch.” You informed as you started to pull back, “Thought I’d drop in and see if I could stick around in the city afterwards. Maybe we can go to dinner?” You suggested and he sighed as his hands found yours and glanced down.

“Sorry, tonight’s no good. I have plans.” He said with a small pout.

“That’s alright, kinda dropped in unannounced didn’t I?” You shrugged.

“Just for transparency’s sake, it’s a date.” He shared, “It was a set up.” He sighed, “I don’t know why my friends meddle-”

“Because they care about you.” You said and he chuckled.

“They’re really bad match makers though.” He chuckled and you giggled.

“Well good thing it’s just a set up then.” You said and he grinned.

“Still get nervous though. Kinda seems unfair to agree to date people when you’re not interested in them.”

“Very true, but hey at least you’ll be nice about it.” You said and he smiled and nodded.

“Yeah, always.” He assured as his thumb ran over your knuckles gently. “What about tomorrow? Do you have plans?” He asked.

“Just brunch with Cece. Gonna get day drunk and lounge around in the pool.” You said with a grin and he smiled.

“That sounds great. Can I crash it? I hear you have a really nice pool.” He hummed and your smile widened.

“Yeah! I think Cece would love that more than I would.” you giggled and he chuckled.

“She was cool.” He hummed and you smiled.

“I’ll let her know you said that.” You said and he nodded.

“Yeah, please do. So ummm, should I bring something?”

“Ummm, we’re doing more breakfast-y food, so I think it’ll be best to make that at mine.”

“Settled. I’ll bring the champagne then.” He concluded with a smirk and you laughed happily and hugged him again. He seemed surprised, but was quick to hug you back.

“Oh, I’ve missed you.” You hummed without really thinking too much about it and he chuckled.

“I’ve missed you as well.” He said quietly, his large hands slid down to your waist and you pulled back. Your eyes met his and then fluttered down to his lips.

“I know we said just friends but-”

“That’s alright, I can make an exception.” He whispered as he leaned down and attached his lips to yours. You hummed happily and let your hands glide up his brawny chest before draping them over his shoulders, your bodies moved closer together, allowing your kiss to deepen. He gently nipped at your bottom lip which made you smile, “What?” He breathed out, his smile matching yours now.

“I just really like how you kiss.” You whispered and he smiled before leaning back in and you teased at his bottom lip with your tongue. He opened his mouth a bit more to let you in. You moaned against him when you finally got to taste his tongue. He sighed as his hands slid down to your bottom before squeezing and then giving a very quick little spank which made you gasp and pull back from the sloppy kiss you were sharing. “Mr. Styles!” You exclaimed with a shocked expression.

“Sorry, these pants are very nice.” He mumbled and you smirked.

“These I did wear for you.” You admitted.

“Well thank you, I love ‘em.”

“You’re welcome.” You giggled.

“Maybe I can get in them sometime.” He hummed with a smug look, “Like just to try ‘em on, they’re nice.” He clarified, but the mischievous glint in his eyes confirmed his double entendre and you chuckled. “So what time tomorrow?”

“Noon-ish? I’ll text you my address.” You said.

“Perfect. Can’t wait.” He hummed before dipping down again and kissing you once more. Just as things were getting steamy your cellphone started ringing. You two broke away from the kiss with a wet sound and you sighed as you pulled your purse between the two of you. You saw it was Dani calling and you answered. You glanced up at Harry as you brought the phone to your ear.

“Hello?”

“Hi Y/N, I’m just wrapping up. Should I meet you in the lobby?”

“Yeah, that’s good. See you there.” You said and then hung up.

“Time to go?”

“Yeah.”

“You nervous?” He asked, hands sliding into your back pockets and you giggled as he did this. He then started pushing you closer to him again.

“A little bit. Obviously she wants to talk about Caleb, but I just don’t know what about. M’not at all gossipy, so I hope it’s not just to talk shit.” You chuckled.

“A little shit talking might take place.”

“Well, yeah she can vent if she needs to. But Cal and I have been able to be very amicable and I don’t want to do anything that ruins that vibe. I did tell him I was meeting her and he said it was fine.” You share.

“Well I don’t know Dani all that well but from what Tamika tells me she’s really sweet. And so are you, so I’m sure it’ll be fine.” He assured you.

“Right.” You exhaled and he chuckled.

“So I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Yeah. And do me a favor, bomb the date, yeah?” You joked and he knocked his head back in laughter.

“I promise you I’ll do my very worst.” He assured you and you chuckled before tiptoeing and kissing his cheek before he slipped his hands out of your back pockets and let you go. “See you tomorrow.”

“See ya’!” You sang before hurrying out of his office and back to the elevator.

Once in the lobby you quickly found Dani and shook her hand as she officially introduced herself. The place she had in mind for lunch was a little cafe around the corner. So as you walked over you made some small talk. Soon enough you were seated and reading over the menus provided. You were a bit anxious to know what it was that she wanted to talk to you about and as she kept hopping from topic to topic about food and drinks and dessert you started to get a bit impatient.

“Good afternoon, what can I get you guys?” The waiter suddenly came up and you glanced up at him and ordered your food and drink first and then Dani went ahead and ordered. After he left, assuring you the food would be out soon you glanced up at her and she smiled a bit nervously.

“So what did you want to talk about?” You asked her and she sighed.

“I just wanted to clarify that I didn’t know about you at all when I agreed to be with Caleb. I feel really guilty about it though and I don’t know how to make it stop.” She confessed.

“Well I can assure you, I have no beef with you. I don’t blame you at all for his behavior or for his choices.”

“So you’re not getting divorced because of me?” She asked and you shook your head.

“Not you personally. I mean, Cal is in love with you and that made him realize that we needed to divorce. And for me learning about his relationship with you definitely was a factor in why I wanted. divorce, but there are other factors to it as well. I mean, why wouldn't I divorce someone who doesn't love me?” you explained and she bit her lip.

“Has he cheated on you before?” She asked and you nodded.

“Yeah, for years apparently.” You sighed.

“Oh…” she said with a small frown.

“I only found out about his cheating at the start of the year. So when he was with you already. He hasn’t been with anyone else other than you lately though, if that’s of any consolation.”

“To some extent it is…I mean, he keeps trying to talk to me and apologize and explain himself, but I don’t think there’s a justifiable explanation for any of this.” Dani said and you nodded.

“Yeah, I agree.”

“I love him. I love him so much, the last few months have been torture, but I’d be a fool to trust him after what he did to me. And now hearing about how this is just something he does…like it doesn’t just stop because you love someone, you know?”

“That’s precisely what I told him the other day. He’s made a habit of his infidelity and there’s no way that’s going to change unless he really works hard at breaking that habit.”

“Right…and I mean, I’d have to be an idiot to forgive him and get back with him.” She sighed.

“Not necessarily. I mean, if you trust him and you work together to make sure you’re on the same page and that you expect the same things out of the relationship it could work. I mean, it’s all based on trust and if you trust that he won’t screw up again, then great! But if you don’t trust him there’s no sense in putting yourself through something like that. You’ll just be full of doubt and miserable and no one deserves to constantly be living on edge like that, you know?”

“Yeah…you’re right.” Dani exhaled in surrender and you frowned a bit.

“Dani, Caleb does love you though. And he is sorry for lying like this. He asked me to tell you that.” You explained.

“I know. But I mean this was maybe my first real adult relationship and like…to discover that I was just the side chick!?” She exclaimed and your frown deepened.

“I’m really sorry, Dani. You didn’t deserve that.”

“I know! It’s why I can’t…I can’t trust him or give him another chance without feeling like a fool for it.”

“Well, seems to me you know which direction you’re leaning towards.”

“I do. It’s just…kind of hard to hold my ground on it.” She explained.

“I mean, you can always change your mind down the line. And well, something tells me Cal will be waiting as long as you need even if it is just to tell him that it’s done for good.” You said to her.

“I just don’t want to waste his time-”

“Girl, he’s wasted both of our times! He’ll be fine.” You emphasized and she chuckled.

“Very true.” She shrugged.

“And look, the last thing you want to do is waste your own valuable time! I’ve been with Cal since I was 23. We got married when I was only 24 and he just told me that he got married to me because he was scared I would leave him if he didn’t commit big right away. All those years are time neither of us will get back and we weren’t even with the right person!” You said and she sighed and shook her head sadly, “I know you’re not asking for my opinion, but if I can just impose it for a second I’d say to just choose you. Heal from the heartbreak and when you’re feeling more level headed about it all revisit it. See if you still love him or if everything has worn off. But make sure that whatever step you take next is for your benefit alone.” You advised and she nodded.

After that part of the conversation you two just ate and talked a bit more about your next steps. She wanted to know how you were moving on from this as well, which in reality was just a taking it day by day approach. Just from your time with her, you gathered that Dani was smart and very sweet and you could see the similarities between your way of being and hers. She was still learning how to assert herself though. For lack of a better term, she was still a bit of a pushover and maybe Cal liked that. It helped him keep her by his side. Thankfully, you had learned better in grad school. You’d learned the hard way not to bend over backwards for everyone and you could still be kind and helpful, just not at your own expense. When Cal told you that you were just harder to deal with than Dani you thought maybe it was an issue with you, but it was all with him. Dani was easier to manipulate because she still considered Cal’s feelings even when it was tearing her apart. You hoped that something you said to her resonated and made her think twice about her choices with Cal in the future. He seemed to be intimidated by women who had owned their power and well, you just couldn’t see yourself being with anyone like that ever.

All along you thought that he was the one encouraging you and empowering you to do more out of love. Empowering you to tag on a second masters. Empowering you to go for jobs you qualified for. Empowering you to pursue your passion and start your own business. And you let him because you thought the he was just being supportive and wanting to see you grow and excel. But now that you looked at your life and your accomplishments, you saw how he felt that he had given all of that to you. But after you were done with school and found your confidence and worth you didn’t need his help as much. You were more than capable on your own and that made him feel less than. Like he wasn’t good enough for you because you didn’t need his help to succeed. Suddenly everything just felt so transactional between the two of you and that just put a bad taste in your mouth. But at least you were going to be free of it very soon.

**********

Thankfully you beat the rush hour traffic out of the city and were able to stop off at the grocery store to pick up the food you’d be having for brunch the following day along with something to make for dinner. You also got yourself a nice bottle of wine and decided that homemade pizza was the way to go for dinner. Your mood improved when you remembered that Harry would be joining you tomorrow as well and you tidied up around the house with a little more pep in your step. After the cleaning bits you were in for a well deserved shower, so you washed up, exfoliated and shaved, and were soon rushing down the stairs in a big t-shirt and some tiny shorts to make your pizza. Your stomach was growling intensely, begging you to eat as soon as possible.

You were playing some of your happy music, singing and dancing around as you prepped your pizza while the oven pre-heated. Everything was going according to plan until your doorbell rang and you pulled up your phone to check the camera to see who could be out there at nearly 8 at night.

“Oh my god…” you whispered to yourself in shock as you saw none other than Harry, standing at the door with a bouquet of flowers in his hand and a tote bag over his shoulder. Your heart just about melted at the sight of him nervously biting his lip as he waited for an answer. What was he doing here? You took some calming breaths as you set your phone down and scurried out to the front door to let him in. You unlocked it and opened it up with an inevitably large smile that he was already mirroring upon seeing you on the other side of the door.

“Hi.” He greeted you with a slightly bashful grin.

“Hi! What’re you doing here?” You asked him through a nervous chuckle.

“I know it’s a bit late now, but I-uh was wondering if you still wanted to do dinner? With me?” He asked hopefully and you bit your lip to suppress your smile for a moment.

“Your timing couldn’t be more impeccable. I was actually just about to throw a pizza in the oven.” You said, pointing behind you with your thumb.

“Really?” He grinned and you nodded.

“Really, ummm come on in!” You chuckled and opened the door wider and he stepped forward. He immediately looked around the foyer before his eyes settled on you as you locked up. When you turned and saw him taking you in, you glanced down at your choice of pajamas bashfully. “Sorry, I’m a bit slob-by right now.” You explained.

“You’re not slob-by.” He assured with a small smile, “You look cute.” He shrugged and you laughed a bit, “M’serious. Like, yeah you usually look so put together, but this is nice too. You look cozy.” He assured and you chuckled.

“Thank you.” You accepted his compliment as he chuckled as well.

“Oh, got these for you.” He said as he extended the arrangement of flowers towards you and you took them.

“Thank you, they’re lovely.” You thanked him, “They’re not re-gifted are they?” You teased with a smirk and he chuckled.

“No, I swear they’re not!” He assured you, “I ummmm, didn’t end up going to the set up thing. I may have…sent her a $200 DoorDash gift card…” he said and you burst into laughter.

“No!” You gasped.

“You said, verbatim, do my worst!” He defended through a chuckle.

“I actually never said that. You said it yourself! I only told you to bomb it, but obviously, I was kidding.” You laughed as you shook your head, your eyes meeting his.

“No you weren’t.” He hummed knowingly as you bit your lip and shrugged.

“OK, I wasn’t…but that’s…I can’t believe you did that.” You chuckled as you shook your head again, “And here I was thinking you were incapable of being an asshole.” You teased.

“I also brought you some tiramisu.” He said as he raised the shoulder that had the tote bag hanging on it. “For like… old time’s sake.” He said.

“And I was right! So completely incapable of being an asshole.” You said and he chuckled, “Come on back to the kitchen.” You said and he followed you trough the house. “Can I get you anything to drink?” You asked as you set down the flowers and opened up the fridge, “I have…a very lovely red blend chilling in the fridge, I have…Coke Zero, water, or if you want a cocktail you can look through the bar.” You said as you turned around.

“Water is good for now.”

“Cold?”

“Please.” He said and you reached in for the pitcher of water and set it on the counter.

“Can I hand you this cake?”

“Yeah, of course!” You said as he pulled out the individual serving of it and you set it on a shelf in there.

“Can I help you with anything?” He asked you.

“Ummm, let me hand you a vase for the flowers.” You said as you scurried around to get one out. And soon you were handing it over as he got some water in it, while you served him a glass from the pitcher.

“Here’s your water.�� You said setting it down beside him.

“Thank you.”

“Yeah, of course!” You smiled, “Ummm, I only bought pineapple for my pizza.” You said.

“Oh! I mean, I already knew you had good taste, but that’s just perfect.” He hummed with a grin and you rolled your eyes playfully at just how over the top he was.

“Glad you like it, if you didn’t I would’ve had to ask you to leave.” You joked as you headed back over to where you had left you little can of drained pineapples unattended upon his arrival.

“That serious is it?”

“Oh yeah! Huge dealbreaker.” You responded smugly as he came up beside you.

“You know what my dealbreaker is?” He asked as he looked down at the pizza.

“What?” You questioned.

“When people are light-handed with the cheese.” He said to you, “Look at this!” He reprimanded playfully and you giggled.

“It’s not that I want to be stingy, I just have to be mindful of my tummy.” You defended. “Specially now that I have an unexpected guest!” Harry laughed at your excuse.

“Fine. But next time I’m gonna bring you those Lactaid pills so you can eat all the cheese you want.” He said and you smiled up at him.

“Wow, my hero. That’s so romantic of you.” You responded and he hummed.

“I know right.” He hummed smugly as you scattered the pineapple all over the pizza’s surface. “So how was lunch with Daniela?” He asked.

“Good. I think she just needed to talk about her plans. Cal had mentioned to me that I was abrasive, but I think he just likes that Dani is still quite…easy to talk into things. I mean, I was that way when we were first together because he’s older. I assumed he was wiser, knew better, knew more than I did, you know? So she still gives a lot of weight to how her calls will impact him and his feelings.”

“I see.”

“Yeah, so I just reminded her to ensure that whatever she does next, that she’s doing what’s best for herself. Like, I know Cal hopes she’ll take him back and maybe she wants to, but she’s doubtful, you know?”

“Yeah, understandably so.”

“Right. And I mean, I also explained to her that living like that, with doubt in your partner is just awful and draining. So to only get back with him if she knew for a fact that everything was different this time.”

“Do you think it would be different?” Harry asked.

“I think so…Cal is so in love with her and I’m sure he would put in far more effort than he ever did with me. But at the end of the day he still broke her trust and that’s always going to be hard to recover, you know?”

“Yeah. Well, I think it’s good you were able to hear her out, give her a bit of advice.” He hummed and moved out of your way and hurried to open the door of the oven so that you could slide the tray in.

“Alright we have about 20 minutes.” You said as you closed up the door and then reached for your phone to set a timer.

“Cool. I’ll help you clean up a bit.”

“Oh, thank you.” You smiled and then just asked him to wash the things you had used to spread the sauce and the few dishes in the sink while you packed up the things you had used for the pizza. “So are you driving back home tonight and then coming back in the morning?”

“No, I was gonna get a room somewhere close by.” He said and you hummed.

“Well you can stay here if you want?” You offered, “We have guest rooms and that way you won’t need to have another expense.”

“Only if you’re OK with it, Y/N.”

“Of course! I’ve stayed at your holiday home free of charge, let me at least do the same for you.” You smiled and he nodded.

“OK, thank you. I’ll go get my overnight bag from the car and ummm, possibly change into something more comfortable.”

“Yeah, sure!” You said and he hurried out to his car.

You text Cece quickly to let her know that Harry had come by tonight and she responded so fast you swear she broke a record. She asked you to be extra nice to him, which you knew what she meant by that, but to please let her know if she needed to just find an excuse to cancel on you for brunch. You rolled your eyes upon reading that, but soon Harry was coming back into the kitchen.

“Let me give you the room upstairs.” You said before guiding him up the steps. “Sorry, we’re renovating the bathroom in the room downstairs. It has a door to the backyard as well, so we use it for the pool.” You shared as you reached the top of the stairs and flicked on the lights before you continued guiding him down the hallway.

“That’s alright. I’ll be closer if you need me. Or if I need you! You know, for safety reasons.” He tagged on and you sniggered as you stopped before the closed door. “Don’t laugh at me. You make me nervous.” He confessed lowly when you opened up the door to the room. You turned to him with some confusion as you moved aside to let him in.

“Do I really?” You asked him and he nodded as he stepped in further, “Why?” You questioned through a small laugh as you flicked on the lights. You were now a bit concerned with what he would say next. Would he be just like Caleb? Intimidated by a fully realized woman? Afraid that your power meant less power for him?

“I just…don’t feel in control.” He explained with a slight furrow in his eyebrows as he set his bag down at the foot of the bed. “It’s not something that happens to me often so I don’t…know how to act sometimes.” He admitted with a nervous smile, “Like I just…word vomit or my thoughts get jumbled up, like they did just now, and it’s weird for me to feel this way.” He explained.

“Oh…” you said back quietly and then smiled. “Well, I must admit you make me nervous too.” You confessed as you stepped further into the room.

“See, I’d never know that.” He said with a small smile as you sat at the end of the bed as he proceeded to unzip his bag. “You always appear so poised and just collected.” He said as he removed his toiletries bag to get to his sleeping clothes.

“I assure you I am not.” You smiled nervously and then your smile faltered a bit. “That’s actually something that ummm…Caleb mentioned when he told me he wanted to get divorced. He said he used to love it and it’s one of the things he hates most about me now. I mean, he wasn't actually like, being a dick about it when he explained.” You said softly and Harry frowned as he looked up at you. “I guess he meant to say that he felt that I was emotionally impenetrable to some extent. Like I’m hiding behind the nonchalance?” You explained.

“Hey, look at me.” He said and you glanced up to him, “I don’t think you’re hiding. I think you’re just…maybe a little bit guarded.” He explained and you nodded, “And not in a way to elicit interest or speculation from others. S’just to ensure that you’re showing your vulnerability to the right people, to the people who you can trust. I don’t think I could ever hate that about you when it’s the thing that just…keeps me on my toes.” He smiled and you did as well, “I like it when you let me in and show me what exactly it is you’re thinking and feeling.” He explained.

“You’re right about it all. I mean, I used to be the biggest pushover, so now I just…ensure to be a bit more reserved to gauge who deserves more of me and who doesn’t. I don’t know, maybe to him it was some game, like I was playing hard to get or something? But it’s just that after being treated like a door mat for so long you start to toughen up, you know?”

“Yeah.” He hummed. “I don’t like that he gets to you like this.”

“Me either…I mean, usually he wouldn’t but like a part of me wants to feel some sense of responsibility for what happened so that there could be a logical explanation as to why he betrayed me this way. Like if there’s something, anything, I could fix or do better next time to prevent getting cheated on then I’ll be safe, you know? Then I could for certain say I did everything I could and the issue is with the other person. But when he says it’s just because he has a wandering eye then…I feel like an idiot because I basically walked into this situation, you know?” You explained to him.

“If he has a wandering eye he would’ve found any number of reasons to cheat, love. People like that always have an excuse and always find a way to shift blame. There is nothing you can or could’ve done better because it’s all in Cal’s hands. It always has been. His inability to have some respect for his wife and marriage and his lack of some basic self-control are his issues alone. S’got absolutely nothing to do with you, so get that out of your head. It’s absolute garbage.” He said with conviction and you bit your lip and nodded. Harry was right, these things were Cal’s issues alone and you were not interested in continuing to take any fault for him.

“You’re right. So right…” you hummed, “Well, I’ll leave you to get changed.” You said and he nodded as you closed the door behind yourself and headed back down stairs.

**********

The night had been fun so far. Your pizza was good and you both had a couple of cocktails as you watched bake off, shouting at the TV screen as if you were watching the Super Bowl.

“If Janusz get’s kicked off I will throw a fit.” Harry mumbled, before letting out a shaky breath.

“His ice cream is not going to set in time…” you said with fear and just moments later you were both groaning as he served up his technical dessert. It was a completely melted mess.

“Alright, he’s still got the show stopper to get back on his game.” Harry said and you hummed in agreement. Completely entranced as you watched the show stoppers until they were presenting it to the judges.

“Sandro’s got to take star baker.” You hummed.

“Yeah, he was basically smashing it the whole time.” He hummed in agreement. Moments later they announced Syabira as star baker. “What?! No!”

“No! Boo!” You both griped, “Her first custard was completely liquid!”

“And she failed the technical! It was absolute shit!” He added with gustó and you giggled a bit. “Sandro was robbed…” Harry shook his head. And then you watched as they let Kevin go with small frowns.

“I’m about to cry…God.” You muttered and he chuckled and pulled you into his side. You smiled as you rested your head against his shoulder and then you cuddled a bit closer.

“Go on and get comfy then.” Harry said softly and you smiled as you just had him lay down so that you could lay over his chest. The next episode came on and you both watched it quietly like this for a bit.

“Harry?” You spoke tentatively.

“Hmmm?”

“I really like you.” You said softly. His heart started pounding hard at your confession.

“I really like you too.” He said as his hand ran up and down your back soothingly. “Literally think about you every day.” He confessed. You pressed yourself up a bit and smiled at him.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah!” He chuckled through his confirmation, “Wanted to talk to you a bit more but I figured you just needed some space to get everything sorted out.”

“Well thank you for considering that but ummm…you can talk to me whenever you want. Just throwing that out there.” You said with a grin and he chuckled.

“Noted.”

“Can I kiss you?” You asked and he smiled.

“Yes. Please.” He barely got the words out before you were connecting your lips to his.

You had no idea how, but just being around him made you feel like you were on fire. Your lips moved eagerly with his and you melted against him at the feeling of his big, warm hands siding down to your waist and pressing your body even closer against his. Your neck was growing a bit sore from your position so you decided to straddle his lap before connecting your lips to his again. The soft, wet smacks of your kisses made your tummy tingle. You reached one of your hands to his, guiding it down your backside. Harry was quick to take the hint and grabbed handfuls of your bottom before guiding you to rut against his lap. You could feel the bulge of his cock growing through the sweatpants he had on and you shifted on his lap, feeling his fingers dig into your bottom. It made you grin into the kiss and your eyes flickered open as you slightly pulled back. Harry opened his eyes and looked at you before glancing down to your lips, he started reaching to kiss you again, but you slightly pulled back with a teasing smirk and he smiled.

“Please.” He whispered.

“Please what?” You questioned innocently.

“Please kiss me.” He clarified and you lowered yourself back down only to skim your nose along his before kissing the corner of his mouth and he chuckled as he dug his fingers further into your bottom, “Please.” He requested again. It was making you excited, hearing him beg for you, “Please, baby.” He whispered.

The impatience in his eyes was feeding a part of you that had been starved for so long. Your eyes were swimming with a dark need and every part of you just wanted to blow his mind and have him so horny and needy for you that he kept begging and begging for more of you. You wanted him to keep thinking about you nonstop, you wanted to make him feel so fucking good. Take such good care of him like he always did to you. You grabbed the side of his face gently with your right hand and he leaned into your touch as his eyes fluttered closed.

“Look at me.” You whispered and his eyes slowly blinked open to meet yours. They were also dark with lust and glanced down to your mouth again. You ground yourself against his clothed erection and you smirked as his eyes fluttered closed as a deep groan rumbled through him. “Gonna take such good care of you, Harry. I’m gonna make you feel so good, just how you make me feel good.” You whispered. “Want you t’do whatever you want to me when you feel it, OK?” You requested softly and he nodded.

“Yeah, baby.” He assured, “We’ll feel it out together, yeah?”

“Yeah.” You smiled before kissing him again. You suddenly sucked on his bottom lip before sinking your teeth into it and tugging it back. Your eyes met his and they followed yours until you were kissing his chin and then up his jaw. Harry extended his neck and you smiled before kissing right under his jaw, gently sucking, latching your lips to his skin.

“Harder.” He muttered and you sighed and sucked harder. His hands squeezed your butt until you let go. You kissed the bruised little patch and then sunk lower. You kissed over his bobbing Adam’s apple and then the base of his throat.

“Take off your shirt.” You hummed seductively and then pulled back. He sat up quickly and haphazardly tore off his shirt before dropping it on the ground. Upon seeing his exposed body again you lunged at him. He sniggered softly as you immediately felt up his abs. He may or may not have flexed a bit harder so that your fingers could really feel the dips of his well defined, washboard abs. Then your hands roamed up his chest. So broad and firm, you could practically grab a handful of him. You sunk lower yet again to kiss over his pecs. You scratched down his left pec as your tongue swirled over his right nipple. You felt him twitch beneath you as you nipped at it gently before you sunk even lower. You kissed each one of his abs and around his belly button before kissing down the trail of hair leading to his cock. You stopped at the elastic of his sweatpants.

“Let’s get these off.” you said and he helped you tug them down along with his briefs. His thick, heavy cock sprung up quickly as soon as his briefs were down his thighs. You quickly got them down to his ankles and he sat up and kissed you as he toed them off. His hands held your face securely as he licked into your mouth. You moaned into his messy kiss and reached for his cock. He sighed in relief as you squeezed your palm around his tip. You felt his precum smearing against your skin and you rubbed it over him before making a fist around the head and stroking up and down slowly. “You’re so fucking big.” You mumbled into his mouth.

“I know, but you still take it all the way don’t you?” He responded and you nodded.

“Yeah. Love how you feel inside.” You panted.

“Mmm…suck my cock.” He ordered and you pecked his lips before sinking again and not wasting any time to get him into your mouth. He moaned the second your were sucking on his tip. You were messy with it, letting yourself salivate at the taste of his skin on your tongue. You got a little bit greedy and sunk down halfway. After a few seconds there you sunk down all the way and he groaned and dug his fingers into your hair as his tip met with the back of your mouth.

“Fuck…oh fuck…” he exhaled with eyes squeezed shut. You breathed through your nose as you tried to get him down your throat and gagged and he pulled you up quickly. “Breathe, baby. Breathe and try again.” He hummed, “Fuck, please try again. Need to get down your little throat.”

You swallowed thickly before sinking back down, taking your time to get him in deeper. Then you felt him start thrusting up slowly while his hands guided your head over him. He was locked on his pace, which helped you know when to expect the nudge of his tip to the entrance of your throat.

“Doing so well for me. Gonna go a bit deeper now. Breathe f’me. Then let it out nice and slow.” He said and you did so and when you started to exhale he started pushing your head down even lower. You hummed around him and he moaned at the vibrations around his cock. You were dripping saliva but neither of you seemed to care. He starting thrusting up a bit faster, just nudging down your throat, “Fuck, that’s a good girl…” He groaned deeply, “Take my fucking cock. Take my cock down your throat.” He grunted as he fucked your mouth until you just couldn’t hold off anymore and choked around his cock. He pulled you up and panted hard as he gripped your hair hard in his fist. You swallowed hard and caught your breath before resting your head on his thigh and smiling up at him. He smiled down at you too and then bit his lip as he watched you sink down and lave at his balls. You were gentle as you sucked one in between your lips. “Shit…fuck th-that’s fucking good.” He moaned, pushing your face closer to his groin. You moaned before popping off and sucking the other one just the same until his legs were wriggling beneath you. “Fuck you’re gonna make me come…” he moaned and you quickly popped off and he was panting. “Shit.” He chuckled breathily and you hummed and kissed his thigh.

“Can I ride your cock?” You asked and he nodded.

“Yes. Please baby, ride my cock.” He begged. You knelt up and slid your shirt off before standing from the couch to get your shorts off. Harry sat upright but slouched against the couch. He wrapped a fist around his cock as he watched you undressing. “So fucking pretty.” He hummed and you smiled as you approached him and then knelt over his lap.

“Ready?” You whispered and he nodded. He glanced down, holding his cock up at your entrance to let you lower yourself. You started to drop your hips, obsessing over the feeling of his cock sinking into your sopping pussy. You felt the pressure increasing against your entrance until it finally gave and he plunged deep into you. You both moaned in satisfaction as you relished in the feeling of his cock finally being inside of you. “Fuck you’re so deep.” You smiled against his lips and he hugged tight around your waist and pulled you down as he thrust up hard. You gasped as he reached new depths that made your thighs tremble because his tip was rubbing right into your spot. You were covered in goosebumps in seconds before an involuntary moan spilled out of your throat.

“Fuck…that’s it isn’t it, baby?” He hummed haughtily as he thrust up into it again.

“Yeah.” You whimpered, “Right there…please don’t stop!” You keened as your toes curled. You started to grind down against him going faster and faster until your were gasping and choking on a cry as your orgasm rolled through your body like a giant wave. You tingled and shivered and seemingly vibrated in ecstasy. You felt so secure as Harry hugged around you tight, continuing to move you over his cock, helping you ride out your orgasm. You started to ride him again, adding a little more bounce to your movement and he groaned and surged forward to latch his lips to your nipple. He sucked hard as you ground down against him.

“You’re so good.” He hummed before sucking it back in again. Your hands raked into his hair and he groaned as you tugged a bit roughly at the roots. “Fuck, you feel so good, baby.” He praised, “Can I take you to the bedroom?” He asked and you nodded.

“Yeah, let’s get up there.” You grinned and without regard for your clothes rushed from the TV room to the bedroom he'd be in.

He followed you in, not really minding the door as he trailed behind you, hands on your hips. He turned you around when you got to the foot of the bed and he picked you up and tossed you up further onto the bed. You laughed as he clambered over you, kissing you as he parted your legs to fit himself between them. You bit your lip as he lined up to your entrance again and started to push inside. Your jaw dropped as you exhaled in relief at his girth stretching you and filling you up. Harry’s eyebrows were creased as he tried to keep it together and just held himself deep inside before drawing himself out. You whined at the lack of his intrusion and he grinned.

“Please, Harry. Please.” You whispered.

“Yeah, baby? Want my cock?” He teased and you nodded.

“Yeah, please. Need you back inside.” You keened and he prodded at your entrance, teasing you by just letting his tip push into you before he’d draw his hips back. You lifted yours up trying to chase after his cock, desperate to feel him back inside of your tight, hot walls. “Harry…” you whined, eyes locking on his and he chuckled at your desperation before just dipped back inside to the hilt. He rolled his hips into you and made your eyes roll back in pleasure. He immediately started to pick up his pace, the thwacking sound of his balls against your ass was making you feral. You were cursing and whimpering as his cock hit all of the right spots. You fit a hand between your bodies and rubbed at your clit in quick circles until your were struggling to breathe, body tensing up as your pleasure started to reach it’s peak.

“Fuck, you’re so close. I can feel it, you’re so fucking wet for me and squeezing so hard, baby.” Harry hummed with hunger as he maintained his thrusting pattern consistent. It was building you up, pushing you towards the edge with each one until you were trembling.

“Oh! I’m coming!” You cried out loudly as you rubbed your clit faster until you were withering around Harry’s cock. He moaned as he started thrusting harder and deeper into you. You winced with each merciless thrust to your poor, sensitive, dripping pussy.

“You OK? Want me to stop?” He asked and you quickly shook your head.

“Please no.” you whimpered and he chuckled lowly.

Should I keep going and flood your little pussy with my come?“ He panted.

“Yes please, I want it so bad.” You mewled and he groaned.

“Fuck…fuck, I’m right there…” he moaned before he choked out a groan and dropped his weight over you and he sunk as deep as possible, releasing his load deep inside of you. He was panting but found your mouth with his. Kissing you sloppily as he hummed in pleasure. He was tingling and you were loving the warmth and weight of his body over yours. “Fuck, I missed you.” He sighed in satisfaction and you smiled as you hugged around his back.

“I missed you too.” You hummed happily.

After lazing around for a bit Harry headed off to have a shower and you ended up telling Cece that you guys could just meet up for dinner and she was very supportive of that decision. You joined Harry in the shower and had another go in there before he ended up dragging you out and eating you out on the bed until you were seeing stars. Your chest even burned a bit from how shallow your breathing was.

“Fuck…oh my god…” you panted as Harry kissed his way up your body before reaching your lips and kissing you quickly, “Think we’ll need to sleep in my room, the bed’s all damp now.” You huffed.

“Do you mind?” He asked and you shook your head.

“Not at all.” You assured him.

After he got dressed you were both settling into your bed. He pulled you closer into his body, spooning you so that you were nice and snug against him.

“Thank you for coming over.” You hummed quietly and Harry smiled and hugged you just a bit tighter.

“There’s no where I’d rather be, baby.” He assured you. “The divorce is final in a few weeks right?”

“Mhmmm.” You confirmed.

“Can I take you out or is it too soon?” He asked quietly and you turned around.

“I’d love to go out with you.” You said, practically beaming from ear to ear.

“Oh great, I’ll plan something special for us soon. I’d say tomorrow, but tomorrow, we’re spending it in bed. Have to make up for lost time, so rest up.” He hummed before kissing you and you easily fell into it until he turned around and asked you to scratch his back and you talked quietly until you both dosed off.

The next few days were absolute bliss with Harry. You got a peek of his domestic side and were absolutely obsessed with how sweet and thoughtful he was. Of course the reunion with Cece was as exciting as you’d imagined. There were tons of laughs and inside jokes now and of course, the promise that Harry would be around a lot more. He had made breakfast for you Sunday morning and then drove you around to do your errands for some events you had coming up in the next few weeks. You spent some time in the hot tub, mostly making out until you just needed to have a shower and have another good shag before bed. Your body was sore and tired, but you hadn’t felt so good in so long. Good in every sense of the word. You felt at ease around him and the evidence was in how you passed out on his chest as he played with your hair tenderly.

“Hey, baby.” Harry mumbled against your temple as you stirred a bit.

“Hmm?” You groaned groggily.

“Sorry it’s so early, but I’ve gotta go to work.” He said and you frowned, your weekend together had flown by.

“Right…Monday.” You huffed with dread and he chuckled.

“Yeah, love.” He said before kissing your forehead, your cheeks, and then you puckered your lips against his softly. “I have a dinner meeting tonight, but I can come again on Tuesday? Can even get off early, help you set up for that event for your client?” He offered and you nodded immediately and he chuckled. “Alright, baby.”

“Drive safe.”

“I will. I’ll text you when I get to the office, OK?”

“OK.” You hummed, “I’ll walk you out?”

“S’alright.” He assured and you shook your head and sat up.

“I insist, baby.” You said and he smiled and gave you a second to stretch before you hurried down the stairs with him and out to the door.

“Miss you already!” He called out the window and you grinned and blew him a kiss before he drove off.

… SIX MONTHS LATER …

You and Harry had been seeing each other on the DL for four months now. He had asked you to be his girlfriend on new year’s eve and you’d been spending all of your free time together. Shortly after the divorce with Cal was finalized you guys were able to sell the house and you’d found somewhere else to live by then which was actually a bit close to Harry’s own place which was rather convenient as your relationship grew more and more serious. Personally, you were thriving and you were looking after yourself so much more than before. Harry was an incredible partner and you swore that everything you felt for him couldn’t fit inside of you in any way, it seemed to be overflowing and you were seriously considering telling him you loved him over your holiday in Italy.

Cal had been doing a bit better than before. Dani ended up asking to be transferred to the London branch of the company and had been there since January. Obviously, this completely devastated Caleb, but he seemed to also just focus on bettering himself. You didn’t really talk often after he told you Dani left, he wasn’t sure who to talk to it about, but you encouraged him to find a therapist to work on himself and he assured you he would try his best. He would reach out every now and again though, he was still feeling a bit lonely and you were itching to tell him that you and Harry were together. You hated feeling like you had to hide your happiness, but Harry had insisted on telling Cal himself before you went on your vacation. He said that at least this way you’d be gone long enough to give him time to get used to the idea without feeling like you guys were shoving your relationship in his face. You agree to let him do it in his own time, but also it would save you the difficult task of having to tell your ex-husband that you were in a relationship with his boss; you couldn’t see that conversation going well in any capacity.

Harry was also very happy with you. He loved to see you thriving and he was more than thrilled that he was playing such a pivotal role in your happiness. He feels that he had always been a pretty good partner, but with you it was just different. He lived for the times he made you smile. He was also very excited for your romantic Italian holiday, it was just three weeks away now. He had planned to stop in England for a few days on the way back so that you could meet his family, he just felt like he needed to make all of the right moves with you because he wanted you in his life forever if possible.

He was currently typing away at his computer furiously, just trying to get everything settled before he left. Just then a few knocks on his door sounded.

“Hey Harry, you wanted to talk to me?” Caleb asked as he came into his office and Harry glanced up at Cal.

“Hey mate, yeah. Have a seat.” Harry instructed and soon Cal was settling into one of the seats in front of Harry’s desk.

“What can I do for you?” Caleb asked cheerfully.

“I’m going to be out of the country on holiday for a month in a few short weeks and I just wanted to touch base with you about some of the things I’d like you to be in charge of while I’m gone.”

“Yeah sure.”

“So I’d like you to head all of the client meetings for that time period. You’ve been doing so well with that, I trust you the most to make things work and to cut the best deals. There’s a particular client that I really want to land, I’ll email you all that information and my personal files on the client. Please look over it when you get a minute today and we can discuss some strategy tomorrow.”

“Perfect.”

“Additionally, you and Daria will be overseeing all operations in my absence. That being said, you’ll receive a bonus for all the extra work you put in for that month. I know it might make you have to shift your schedule somewhat so please just take note of any extra hours and I’ll will ensure you get some OT for those hours as well.”

“Not necessary, Harry but thank you.” Caleb nodded in agreement, “So where are you heading off to?” Cal asked and Harry bit his lip for a second. He knew you didn’t mind him telling Cal about your relationship, in fact he had been the one to ask if he could break it to Cal because of their overlapping professional relationship and well, now was the moment to do it. He had even tried to do it a bit sooner but when he’d seen it was a rough day for Caleb he’d put it off. But this needed to happen now.

“Italy.” He shared and Cal’s eyebrows arched up in surprise.

“Oh, nice! Y/N is going to Italy soon too. Not too sure of the dates but-”

“That’s actually another reason for why I wanted to talk to you.” He said and Cal looked at him expectantly, “I’m…with her. Y/N, she’s my girlfriend and we’re going on holiday together.” He said, just getting it out there and Cal’s eyebrows arched up even further.

“Oh…” was all he said and Harry nodded, waiting for his next response expectantly but he didn’t say much, just kind of looked at his desk.

“I wanted to tell you because well, we still work together. I know that your marriage ended not too long ago, but I just want you to know that whatever has gone on outside of work is not any of my business so long as you keep doing excellent work here. And I have certainly treated you as a great employee and friend to some extent and ummm, I hope that you will do the same for me now that I’m with Y/N. I guess, I'm just saying I hope this doesn’t impact our professional relationship.” Harry explained.

“When did this happen?” Cal asked, seemingly ignoring what Harry had just said.

“Officially, I asked her to be my girlfriend on new year’s. I think we’re getting serious now though.” Harry said.

“Already, huh?” He asked with a sad smile and Harry nodded.

“Yeah, I’m ummm…in love with her and I want to see this through.” Harry admitted to him and Caleb cleared his throat and nodded.

“Right. Well, thanks for telling me. I don’t love her anymore, but it’s just…a weird situation, you know? It’s fine though, I’m glad you’re happy with her.”

“Of course. And well, Y/N wanted to tell you a bit sooner but I insisted I break the news to you since…we’re the ones who will continue to see each other day to day.”

“No, I get it. She’s…great and I mean, you’re lucky to have her in your life.” He said and Harry nodded.

“Thank you, I know.”

“What ummm…what brought you guys together?” He asked.

“I think the dinner at my place in September really sealed the deal. I mean, I thought she was beautiful and smart and just the way she helped Tamika and well, Dani…I just thought she was really great. Then ummm I went to check on her since I could tell she was…a bit sad about the way the night had gone for her and ummm…one thing led to another and…well…” he sighed and Cal looked surprised.

“Oh…”

“I’m really sorry.” Harry apologized because he had never meant to get in between you two. And though he had omitted your previous interactions, he felt that having sex with you while you were upset with Cal could make him think that Harry had something to do with you also being eager to get a divorce from him.

“Well, it’s not like I didn’t deserve it.” He said and Harry frowned a bit, “Just…treat her right, yeah?”

“I will.” Harry smiled and Cal returned the gesture.

“And she’s happy?” He asked Harry who nodded.

“Yeah, very happy. She’s doing great.” Harry confirmed.

“Good.” He hummed.

Obviously, things were just a bit weird for the rest of the day but Harry felt nothing but relief knowing that he’d been able to finally tell Caleb about his relationship with you. He loved you, it had happened so quickly for him, but just getting to say that to someone had made it all the more real. For the rest of the day he felt this pressure over his chest, an anxious need to tell you exactly how he felt for you. He didn’t want it to go unsaid for a minute more.

And when he got to your apartment that night and heard some Frank Sinatra playing through the door he immediately smiled. He loved that he could see you whenever he wanted now, though that did nothing to get him to stop thinking about you all day every day.

“Baby, is that you?” You called out as soon as you heard the front door close with a heavy thud.

“Yeah!” He called back as he set his things down and slipped out of his shoes, “It smells amazing!”

“It’s a chickpea masala soup!” You announced and soon you felt Harry wrapping his arms around your waist.

“Hi, baby.” He greeted as he kissed the side of your head.

“Hi!” You greeted him happily and then spun around to grab his face, “A kiss please.”

“Another?” He grinned and you nodded, “Of course. Anything for m’girl.” He hummed happily and pressed his lips to yours. After a few distracting and wonderful moments of your lips together you parted and you reared back to look in his eyes, “Told Cal about us today.” He shared.

“Oh? How’d he take it?” You asked right away.

“Fine. He was just surprised.” Harry explained and you nodded.

“Good. So I can come visit you at work now.” You grinned.

“Course. I’ll always make time for you.” He hummed happily and you kissed him again, “Ummm, as I was talking to him I ummm realized something. Well not realized, because I’ve known but realized that I needed to do something about it. And I just really need to tell you that I…that I love you.” He said and your eyes softened as they met his.

“Do you really?” You asked with a little smile.

“Yeah, baby. You’re everything I didn’t know I was missing. The moment you came into my life it was changed, for the better, of course. And I don’t want to let another minute pass me by without telling you that despite all the time and hurt that we’ve endured, we met when we were supposed to and I can’t imagine my life without you in it. My whole heart is all yours, always.” He said sweetly and you pouted in endearment with a thumping heart at his confession.

“I love you too. With every piece of my heart and I don’t even want to think about life without you, H. Thank you for loving me.” You said and he chuckled as he kissed your forehead.

“No, thank you for making me feel whole. I’m so lucky to have met you, I’ll never ever get tired of showing you what you mean to me, baby.” He assured with a happy smile as your eyes teared up.

“Oh, I love you so much.” You sighed as you hugged him tight and he hummed happily.

“I love you.” He whispered happily.

—- Tag List —-

@sunshinemoonsposts @anotherdudetteinthisworld @matildasatellite @sad-avocado @sunflovverharry @cherrysulewski @daphnesutton @gurugirl @jessitpwk @permanentllyharry @here4thefanfics @slutfortigertattoo @angelbabyyy99 @freedomfireflies @behindmygreyeyes@mellamolayla @nikkisimps @dioc4ne @straightontilmornin @mema10 @fkinavocado @hazuniverse @lolyouallsuck @kathb59 @fictionalmensblog @criesbc1d @mamassssontour

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xzaddyzanakinx · 19 days

Text

Not That Kind of Guy

Part Seven: Stalker!Anakin Skywalker × femme reader series

Warnings: stalking, weirdo behavior, psychotic/delusional behavior, possessive/protective, sexism/misogyny, sexual content/fantasizing, pervy behavior, panty/scent kink, mask kink (Ghostface), gaslighting/manipulation[Be sure to pay attention to future warnings in the series]

Info: Anakin is perfect boyfriend material. He’s also insane, but that’s okay. He’s thinkin’ some thoughts [diary entries from Ani AND you] extremely not proofread. MDNI 18+

Diary Entry: July 14th

You’d better be so fucking glad that I’m not insane.

I offered you my weapon and you didn’t take it. You have zero self preservation skills, your fight or flight response is so low that it concerns me. You’re worse than a opossum, instead of playing dead you play pretend that it’s normal to have a home intruder with a knife in your bedroom.

You didn’t even attempt to get up and run, not that you could’ve. You wouldn’t have made it more than two steps without collapsing. You could hardly speak, slurring your words like a drunken fool.

You didn’t even call anyone after I left. Didn’t text anyone. Didn’t get out of bed until 1:00pm this morning. If I didn’t have the audio on full blast all night I would’ve busted back in and made sure you were still breathing.

Honestly I’m alittle jealous.

Stupid I know, to be jealous of myself. But you didn’t know it was me. Yet you still let me sit there, you let me talk to you, you let me scratch your head like a good little girl.

Did you really believe it was all a dream?

Do you remember it today?

Can you feel my hands on your skin? Can you taste my cum on your lips?

Did you know it was me?

Date

July 14th

You woke up groggy, way, way past the normal time your internal alarm clock jolts you awake. Disoriented wouldn’t even begin to describe how you felt right now. This was a feeling like nothing you’d ever experienced before.

Unlike last night when your mind was refusing to kick off the blanket of sleep while your body could scarcely react… now your mind was wide awake and running rapidly while your body was aching and not properly calibrated.

You’d been so utterly relaxed during your deep sleep that your muscles got the rest they’d been searching so desperately for your entire life. You felt loose, rested and smooth while also feeling as though you’d been stomped to a pulp by a stampede of angry cattle.

Your head felt swimmy, your lungs felt like they’d been working too hard. Your eyes still couldn’t fully focus either, so it was no surprise that you stumbled clumsily to the kitchen and spilled coffee grounds all over the counter.

You rested your forehead against your folded arms on the counter top, needed a moment to rest your eyes from the harsh lighting. The pounding in your head traveled from one side to the other, keeping a continuous presence behind your sensitive eyes. The moment of silence, well, it gave you time to think.

You had wanted so badly to believe last night was nothing but a weird ass dream, it wouldn’t have been the first time.

But your hopes were squashed when you woke up and saw your diary on the edge of your bed. Even the air felt disturbed, like your room itself was letting you know that it wasn’t all in your head.

He had said he wouldn’t hurt you and you believed him.

He didn’t hurt you.

But if not… why drug you? Was he planning on it and you’d interrupted his plans? Though being a kind, caring, crazy person he backed off instead of forcing you to endure whatever he decided for you while you were awake?

Or had you caught him after the deed had been done?

That ache. That horrible longing in your gut that just refused to go away… was gone. Not dulled, not in hibernation. You felt satisfied and sated.

He said he didn’t hurt you… maybe he just...

You shoved your thoughts into a corner and taped the box shut. That was absolutely sick, you cannot think that way. You can’t. What the hell is wrong with you? You shouldn’t be okay with that.

You should cry. You should scream and wail and cry and throw up.

But how could you be disgusted by a man that had taken away the yearning that had been so deeply rooted within you for so long? Maybe… maybe he didn’t even touch you like that.

Maybe whatever drug he’d given you had somehow flipped the reset switch.

“Sure.” You whispered to yourself, leaning against the countertop. “Sure, that’s all it is. Just that.”

“I have no reason to doubt him. If he wanted to hurt me he would’ve done it. I caught him, if he was truly a terrible person he probably would’ve killed me.” You reasoned with yourself.

“He just came to say hello.” You put your face in your hands, breathing deeply. “Yep. Yep. Yep. That’s all.”

You chose to ignore that fact that your panties were glued to your cunt that morning.

Conveniently over looked the obvious hickey on your left breast.

Pretended not to notice the taste of something salty in the corner of your mouth.

That’s all in your head. He didn’t do that, you didn’t feel sore. You would feel that wouldn’t you? You would’ve woken up right?

‘Right. I would’ve felt it. I would’ve woken up. So it was a dream. Yes.’ You nodded resolutely in agreement with your inner voices.

Some guy dressed as Ghostface was not in your bedroom.

You got out your diary to write about your night at the bar and how wonderful it was, and you fell asleep before you could put your pen to the paper.

Someone slipped something in your drink and it made you sleep very soundly. Someone who didn’t get the chance to take advantage because your two best friends walked you home.

Your subconscious knew that’s what happened and it made all that other stuff up. It’s time to reevaluate your bookshelf. No more dark romance. It’s turned your brain to mush.

Anakin. You should go ask Anakin to review the footage from the bar security cameras. Put your mind at ease that no one had even attempted to follow you home. Maybe you’ll see that no one even drugged you in the first place and you just have one hell of a hangover and an overactive imagination.

First things first though, scoop up those spilled coffee grounds and dump them into the filter. The water gets hot enough, it’ll be fine.

Absentmindedly grabbing your new hello kitty mug, you failed to notice the slip of paper inside until you almost poured creamer over it.

You quickly snatched it up and unfolded it.

‘Sleep well?’

——————————————————————————

“Anakin!” You banged on his front door and he answered relatively quickly.

He appeared in a pair of flannel checkered pajama pants and a short sleeved white shirt, socked feet and messy hair.

“I’m not picking my nose I swear, I’m changing my nose ring.” He grinned, one finger in his left nostril while he screwed on the ball to a new black steel ring, replacing the previous plain stainless steel one.

“M’sorry I didn’t mean to-“

“No worries baby, what’s up?” He asked, running a hand through his hair before shoving his hands in his pockets.

“Can you do me a favor please?” You asked, eyebrows furrowed.

“Of course, what’d you need princess?” He asked, his face full of sympathy. “Wanna come in? We can chat.”

He didn’t wait for you to answer, he simply stepped aside and held the door open, lifting that arm slightly so he could usher you underneath his arm and into his apartment.

“Need a drink or anything?” He asked, thumbing toward the fridge.

When you shook your head he gently grasped one of your elbows and brought you to the couch, he kneeled on one knee and held both your hands with his. He looked up at you like he was studying the most delicate piece of artwork on earth.

“What’s going on doll?” He whispered, tucking a hair behind your ear, “you look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Your eyes flashed at his lips quickly, and widened slightly, but you shook your head.

‘If only you knew.’ You thought, your inner voice giving a mirthless laugh.

“N-no.” You sighed. “Is there anyway you can convince your boss to let me look through the security footage from the bar last night?”

“Yeah sure, I doubt he’d care.” Anakin shrugged. “Why? Did you lose something?”

“Um no.” You said, contemplating on telling him your story, no matter how stupid it might make you look.

“You can tell me anything sweetheart.” Anakin cooed.

“It’s just… I think maybe someone slipped something in my drink last night.”

“You think someone drugged you?” He repeated, his hands tightening around yours.

“Well I don’t know for sure!” You said quickly. “I just woke up feeling weird and dizzy… n’ well I don’t know it doesn’t matter.”

“I’ll make sure we get that footage okay?” He promised, pulling you into his chest and smoothing your hair down your back.

You didn’t speak, you just let him pet you for a moment. The thought of telling him what had actually happened scared you. It made your stomach flip, twist into knots and yank your guts so tightly that you thought you’d never be able to eat again.

He’d think you’re nuts. He’d think you’re a liar. He’d think you wrote that note yourself. He… what would he do? If he believed you? Would he call the cops? Get angry at you for not doing it yourself?

You were vaguely aware of Anakin speaking to you and once he realized you weren’t comprehending a single word, he stopped. He leaned back to look at your face where it rested against his chest.

“Babydoll?” He said worriedly, waving his hand in front of your face to get your attention. “What’s got you all tore up?” He asked in a whisper.

You shook your head, hoping to scramble your thoughts back into order.

“It’s nothing, I just…” You breathed deeply, realizing only now that you’d started to cry.

The safety you felt with Anakin had allowed you to feel these confused feelings in a closed and controlled environment. You chided yourself for thinking he’d react offensively, you may as well just tell him. At least part of it… right?

“Hey, princess.” He said, his voice tinged with a worried kind of uncertainty. “You’re kinda scaring me, I need you to talk to me baby.” He whispered softly.

“I think someone broke into my house last night.” You blurred out suddenly, your words surprising yourself. The moment they left your lips the words caused you to shudder, eyes watering, staring at Anakin like a poor hopeless little kitten on an ASPCA commercial.

“What do you mean someone broke into your house?” He asked sternly, his hands firm on your shoulders.

“I don’t know. Maybe I imagined it.” You said embarrassedly.

“I checked all over the apartment this morning and can’t seem to find out how they got in. I just remember someone being there.” You added, biting your lip as you picked at the skin on your fingers.

“Do you want me to go look?” He asked softly. “You can stay right here, I’ll go look if you want.”

“Really?” You sniffled. “Will you?”

“Of course.” He soothed, cupping your face with both hands and wiping the remnants of your tears away. “You stay put. I’ll be right back.”

Anakin grabbed a thick Sherpa blanket…

Sherpa blanket? He has a Sherpa blanket? Hot. A man with good taste in throw blankets is a man worth pursuing.

He covered you up and patted your head, his fingers stalling momentarily as he gave you a wide-eyed, quizzical look as though he might ask you something or maybe had an odd thought. But, you could see him internally shaking whatever it was that crossed his mind away.

“I’ll be back in a sec okay?” He said, walking to his front door and shutting it with a click behind him.

Anakin walked into your apartment and idly stood in the kitchen, thinking to himself and wondering just how much you remembered. Boogie purred and looped around at his feet so he scooped her up and held her like a baby while pacing the room.

“What should I do? Hmm?” He asked, scratching beneath her chin.

“You have great advice usually.” He muttered. “C’mon… I- fuck.” He groaned.

“I can’t just ask her can I?” He huffed. “No, I can’t.”

“I’ll just… offer to put up some cameras,” he chuckled to himself. “Easy. It’ll make her feel better huh?”

“Thanks… good kitty.” He said giving her a peck on the head before sitting her on the kitchen counter and walking back to his apartment.

He popped his head around the corner to see you still sitting exactly where he left you.

“Good news is: there isn’t anyone there now.” He said with a sympathetic smile. “I can’t find any evidence of a break-in…”

“I know!” You said, exasperatedly throwing your hands up.

“Hush.” He said sternly. “Just because I didn’t find anything, doesn’t mean it didn’t happen okay?”

He doesn’t believe you. He doesn’t believe that your space had been invaded, that your sanctuary had been tainted. But, he believes that you believe it was. And that’s enough of a reason for him to play along for your peace of mind. Within reason of course. He’s not confirming your fears, he’s leaving it open ended but putting up a gate to keep it in check. He’s protecting you from yourself and your own anxiety.

Too bad he’s wrong. Although it’s real sweet that he’s trying.

“Okay.” You blushed at his change in tone, like he was speaking to a child having a tantrum.

You didn’t fully understand why, but every time he did that, it made your stomach flip- in a good way. It was… strangely comforting? Maybe? Or maybe it was just hot, either way you weren’t complaining in the slightest.

“Do you want me to set up a security system for you? Some cameras or?” He offered, sitting next to you and opening his arms which you quickly leaned into.

“Cameras?” You echoed, why hadn’t you thought to put those in when you moved in? You’re a girl, living alone, in a less-safe area of town.

“Yeah.” He nodded. “Would that make you feel better?”

“I don’t know… maybe just those window and door alarms?” You suggested. “You know the ones that make that horrible screeching sound when they’re armed and someone tries to open the door?”

“Yes.” He chuckled. “I know exactly what you’re talking about.”

“I had one on the back garden gate at my moms house.” He said, smoothing out your hair.

“Really? Why?” You asked.

“Cause she thought I was sneaking out.” He chuckled.

“Were you?”

“Yes.” He laughed. “I just wanted to go smoke with my friend who lived in the same subdivision as us. Apparently she’d been hearing the gate open and shut.”

“She was never one for confrontation, so I guess scaring the shit out of me was her way of telling me to stop sneaking out to smoke pot.” He smirked. “I screamed, like a real actual scream. Sounded like a little girl.”

“Oh poor you.” You laughed, looking up at him as you giggled. “My parents never found out I snuck out.” You said teasingly.

“Oh really? What were your methods?” He snorted.

“Well, we didn’t have a fence first of all.” You said. “Second, I was on the ground floor and my bedroom window didn’t have a screen in it.”

“Mmm.” He nodded, his chest rising and falling methodically. “Smart.”

“Yep.” You smiled. “So how bad did you get in trouble?”

“Trouble? None.” He chuckled, leaning back to look at you. “I was momma’s pride and joy, I could do no wrong. She just gave me a warning, unspoken. But still very, very loud.”

“Oh so what you’re saying is she let you get away with it huh?” You laughed.

“Pretty much.” He smiled, pausing for a moment. “So is that what you want then?”

“Yeah… I think I’d rather have those. Maybe it’ll scare ‘em off and make ‘em scream like a little bitch, like you.” You teased, trying to lighten the mood.

“Oh baby, you wound me.” He sighed. “Guess you’ll have to find someone else to install them for you, huh?”

“What?” You sat up and furrowed your eyebrows in confusion.

“What?” He said mockingly. “You really want a little bitch installing your security system? My little girly hands just won’t get the job done.” He teased.

Little girly hands? Little girly hands?

Those hands were anything but little, everything masculine. Strong and firm. Long fingers that would lace perfectly in yours, those same fingers would feel at home between your…

“Fine, I take it back.” You said quickly, pulling yourself from your dirty thoughts. You couldn’t seriously be drooling over those veined hands while discussing your potential house invasion.

“Good girl.” He grinned. “I’ll order them for you okay?” He said, brushing his knuckle against your cheek.

“Thank you.” You sighed in relief, ignoring the shiver his touch sent through you.

“No problem princess.” He said softly.

Diary Entry: July 14th

God I feel so… conflicted.

I never feel conflicted when it comes to you. It’s so strange, this feeing. It’s like I’m being pulled in two directions.

I love you. So much baby.

I love the way you felt in my arms today. I loved the way you let me hold you, comfort you. We have such a good connection. Such a normal, real, blossoming relationship.

But I’ve went and made things complicated haven’t I?

I should’ve waited. I should’ve been more careful. I should’ve sucked it up and just watched through the cameras and kept my hands to myself. I have patience, I should’ve used it.

It’s just… you’re so tempting.

You love it. Whether you know it or not, I know it. I see it, hear it, taste it. You need me. Conscious and consenting or unconscious and oblivious. Either way, you need me.

So it’s really not my fault. I might’ve thrown the snowball that’s triggered the avalanche, but you’re not running from it. You’re letting it drag you under and doing it with a blush and blissful smile.

Ghostface has thrown an unexpected but possibly very interesting wrench in my plans. You reacted so strangely. I can’t stop thinking about it. It’s eating me alive inside, the way you just… accepted it. It’s amazing.

Truly, it’s astonishing. This side of yourself that you’ve kept locked away and hidden from view, maybe even hidden from yourself until now. Do you have a Pit too? Did that surprising reaction crawl out of the depths of your enigmatic mind?

It’s a mystery to me. One I will never crack, it drives me nuts. Knowing that there’s a truly unsolvable puzzle in front of me, I can pick and pick and pick, but I’ll never find all the pieces. You’re too smart, too clever, too perfect. Why would your mind maze be any different?

What have you got hidden in there? In that one place I can’t break into? The one part of yourself you can hide from me?

I’ve gotten a taste, a small one. Lightly salted, hardly seasoned thoughts sprawled on the pages of your diary. No one, not even me, writes everything down. There are things that will stay locked away in my mind, never to be spoken or written. I’m sure you have those things too. Probably not anywhere near as… depraved as mine. But strange and unusual enough that you’d never willingly allow anyone to learn.

As much as I hate that I can’t read your mind, I love it too. That hidden side of yourself that is only for you. It’s something I’m not sure that you would ever show me, not even when you’ve finally fallen in love with me. Not even when we’re too old to care about anything but our happiness… I don’t think you’d share it then either.

That’s a shame. It really is.

But you might share that side of yourself with Ghostface.

I know you.

I know you well enough to realize that the fawn who timidly, but let their curiosity guide them to speak with Ghostface is not the same doe that blinks up at Anakin with adoration.

You. Are. So. Much. Like. Me.

Anakin looks at you with a sense of love, pure and unfiltered. He wants the best for you because he cares so deeply. He wants to keep you safe and warm and forever happy. Because that’s his duty as a loving and caring partner. Your protector and provider.

Ghostface looks at you with love yes, but also obsession and deeply rooted perversion. An infatuation so strong that he’d shed gallons of blood just to get to you. He wants the best for you, in his own way. He wants to keep you safe while giving you the danger he knows that you crave. He wants to keep you warm by feeding the flame of your own twisted little fantasies. The ones so dark you won’t even write them in your diary. He wants to keep you forever happy too, just not in the traditional sense.

And if he gets to have his own fun along the way… well, we both know I’m a fan of killing two birds with one stone. Of course Ghostface would have some mutually beneficial, selfishly planned ideas too, right? He’s unafraid to be what Anakin tries to keep hidden.

Maybe we can have both? Separately… at least for a little while.

You can have us both.

We can have the fawn and doe.

That could be fun. I think I’d like that. You’re just perfect, you’re so perfect. I never would’ve imagined I would be lucky enough to find someone who was as fucked in the head as me. The theory is of course untested, but I have a feeling that I’m right. I think you’ll love Ghostface just as much as you love Anakin.

Because I love the fawn just as much as I love the doe.

The doe that blinks up at me like it’s been caught in the high beams of a truck. The doe that is clever enough to carry on a good banter with me. Sweet and kind and gentle. That’s the recipe for the perfect little deer, they’re such a gentle animal. Soft.

Just like you. They bed down in the softest grass, nest themselves up in a way that keeps them hidden and safe. You do the same, all those stuffed animals and the ridiculously thick and fluffy comforter you sleep under.

They’re smart. They can be sneaky and quiet if they need to be. They have hard and dangerous hooves if they truly need to use them. So do you, but you’ve proven that just like a doe, you’d rather return to the safety of your nest instead of bucking up to kick your problems square in the chest.

Even though they’re smart enough to know they’re prey, they’re too sweet, too pure to believe anyone could have bad intentions. That’s why the bucks have antlers. Sharp and precise, ready to clash into whatever threatens his doe, head first.

Sound familiar?

Then there’s the fawn. The you I’ve only just begun to know. Tiny, meek, fragile. A bleat so small and unsure that it’s comical, like the way you spoke to Ghostface.

They cower, hide. Walk on unsteady legs that cause them to flounder when they’re nervous. They get overconfident; leaping and running on those lanky limbs and regretting it when they fall to their knees, legs folded beneath them and calling out for their protector.

They have those innocent doe eyes all the time, not just when caught off guard. Like the you that Ghostface met. So curious and wrongfully trusting. They don’t realize danger until it’s too late, they’re just exploring the world around them and suddenly they’re gone.

That’s why it’s important that you stay within arms reach of me. That’s why I watch you so closely. That’s why you need me.

They’re so easily taken advantage of; the purity, the innocence, it’s a recipe for disaster if it’s left to develop on its own. But when it’s nurtured? Well cared for? Allowed to roam within reason? In the safety of the net it’s protector has spread out for them?

Well, they’ll blossom. Just like you. You’re so eager to learn and soak up all the knowledge you’ve been so curious about, but too afraid to seek out on your own.

Ghostface can help with that. He’ll keep you safe while giving you the room to explore. He’ll allow you to think that you’re independently experiencing a new world, even though he’s the one who’s crafting it for you.

What a surprise it’ll be when we tell you we’re the same guy. It’ll be your dream come true huh? Sweet and tender boyfriend material, bring home to momma, respectful and gentle Anakin. With a side of… well controlled obsession motivated lunacy.

See? I’m self aware. Crazy people don’t know they’re crazy. I’m not a psycho, I’m. Not. That. Kind. Of. Guy.

But Ghostface is.

I love you. You love me. We can just merge the four of us together. Fours a crowd but twos a party or some shit like that.

Date

July 19th

Anakin waltzed into your apartment and locked the door behind him. In his break and enter self imposed uniform. No mask though, he just had it tucked under his arm just incase. He liked to be prepared, especially after you’d surprised him by waking up when he’d so carefully planned for you to do the opposite.

He scooped up Boogie for company, went to your bedroom and locked the door behind him. He kicked off his shoes and climbed into your bed, staying standing to adjust the camera above your bed. He needed to uncover that lens. No reason to suffer with just the audio anymore, not when he had a perfectly good excuse that you were semi aware of now.

With task one complete he propped up his phone against one of your many stuffies to have the background noise of one of the shows he’s finally getting around to watching: Narcos. He can understand the hype around it when it was first released now and kind of wishes he’d sucked it up and jumped on the bandwagon to watch it with everyone else in the world back then.

With his work area set up he reached under your mattress with one long arm and pulled out your diary. He’d been impatiently waiting for you to formulate some questions and he’d hear you speaking to yourself about it the night before.

So he cracked open the little pink book and pulled out the red ink pen he’d brought along.

It just wouldn’t be as fun to use one of your cutesy little gel pens or just a plain old black one. But it would be fun to add just a dash more intimidation into the scenario.

It’s a proven fact that red is an uneasy color for humans. It’s one of those things that never fully went away when people developed past the primitive brain. Most people don’t even realize it, but studies show that red ink really does affect the brain. It’s very subtle but it’s still there. The mind is a strange place.

Red bad, blood red, scary.

That’s why all good horror movies have the killers write in red ink… or just straight up blood. It’s unsettling.

Anakin leaned back and got comfortable, flipping through the pages to read the few entries that he hadn’t yet, before moving on to the main course, a page titled: Answer Me

——————————————————————————

Your Diary Entry: Answer Me

Do I know you? If I don’t then who are you?

We’ve met.

Nice try, you’re not getting that out of me yet. Bold of you to ask though, I like that.

Just call me Ghost.

I’m sure that I know you, why else would you hide your voice?

Clever girl.

What do you look like?

You saw me. I didn’t realize you needed glasses.

Do appearances mean that much to you? Well, here’s what I look like under the mask:

Funny, huh?

Why me?

I don’t have enough room in this book to answer this question sweetheart.

So I’ll shorten it: you’re perfect, precious… and I love you because of it.

How did we meet?

You’re really confident that you’ve met me. It would’ve been embarrassing if you were wrong.

I saw you, you saw me. That’s how most people meet isn’t it?

Will you come back?

I’d have to be dead to be kept from you, even then you’d never be without me.

The afterlife is just a step behind the living.

It’d be fun to try out that poltergeist stuff anyway, don’t you think?

How did you get in? I checked and had a friend check… no sign of forced entry.

I know. I saw you both.

Not too long ago, you left your window unlocked. My main goal is to keep you safe and happy, you can’t be safe with an open window easily accessible by a fire escape. So I climbed in and closed it for you.

Have you looked for your spare key lately? I know where it is. It’s in my pocket. On my keychain.

How long have you been watching me?

I like the way you asked this. Not ‘how long have you been doing this’, not ‘how many times have you broken in’.

I’ve been watching you for quite a while now. Long enough that you should’ve definitely noticed by now. Just another reason you need me to protect you. You’ve been completely oblivious.

Go to the next page for the rest of this. I have more to say; you need a lecture.

Hello again, let’s continue shall we?

You’re utterly hopeless in the way of self awareness and keeping watch of your surroundings.

I walk you to and from work nearly everyday.

I sat on your fire escape every night for weeks, to watch you fall asleep on the couch, watching your little shows.

I’ve been to your sisters house, I’ve been to the library to see who is in your book club, I’ve even been to the gym with you.

You never noticed. That’s… forgivable. I’ve been very good at keeping myself hidden, ie. all the times I laid on top of the roof next door to watch you sleep through your bedroom window. But that was before I started visiting your home.

(Have you noticed that those curtains stay closed now? I always shut them for you because you’re forgetful.)

But you know what isn’t forgivable? Everything I’ve done inside your home that you’ve never noticed.

Sweetheart, I love you. I really do. But god you’d probably die without someone around to hold your hand. Haven’t you noticed that certain things seem to be growing into less of a chore and more of a manageable task?

I know that you have, but you thought it was all you, all on your own.

I’ve been making sure your favorite mugs are washed. I’ve been vacuuming because you never do it enough. I’ve been taking out the bathroom trash on the off occasion because I know you hate doing it.

I replace things for you. This one really gives me a giggle.

You’ve been using the same bottle of Persil laundry detergent for almost two months. Ever wondered why it stays half full? No?

Your favorite cereal never runs out either.

You’re adorable, so clueless.

It’s all helpful things sweetheart. No worries, I’m not just some weirdo creep. I do actually care about you and your well-being too. I love you.

You haven’t missed a single birth-control pill since I’ve been setting it out for you.

You’ve been sleeping so much better, in your own bed where you should be, because of that yummy SleepyTime tea. It’s nice to wake up feeling rested isn’t it?

I did my research, remember when you felt real down a while back? That’s when I started setting out your medicine and giving you that tea. I read that it was probably a hormone imbalance because you’re too forgetful to take your pill consistently.

I like to help, I want to help. It makes life easier for you and that’s what’s most important. That’s what a man should do, take care of the one he loves, keep her happy, safe and loved. I’m dedicated to you. I want you to know that.

Anyway, I’m getting sidetracked and you have more questions to be answered my curious girl.

If you didn’t plan on hurting me, why did you drug me, why did you bring a knife?

Valid question.

Am I being watched ALL the time?

No, I’m not a psycho. You deserve privacy, I’ve never peeked in on you in the bathroom in any capacity. I don’t always watch you in your bedroom. But I do listen. I like to hear you snore, it’s like ASMR.

I’ve never accidentally seen you naked if that what you’re asking. It’s always on purpose.

Why haven’t you made yourself known? Why no weird calls or notes or anything? Isn’t that a thing stalkers do?

No. It’s not. At least not for me.

I don’t want to freak you out. Leaving weird calls and notes would scare you. That’s the last thing I want.

I’ll start, let you get the full experience lol.

(Not creepy shit though I promise.)

What do you get out of watching me sleep? Have you touched me?

You’re beautiful, peaceful, angelic. It’s just nice to be in your presence. It’s calming in a way. Like how grandmas knit to wind down in the afternoon. Kinda like that I guess.

Maybe.

Are there cameras here?

Yes. But not everywhere, like I said, you deserve privacy.

They’re here for security reasons, but also because it sucks to sit in the rain on a fire escape. My ass would get frozen to the metal grate when it was cold.

I don’t use them for what you think though.

Will you ever tell me who you are?

Would you be able to cope with knowing my identity? I mean, there’s a reason I wear the gloves and mask, change my voice. Like I said, you know me in the real world. I won’t ever show you my face if it means losing you there.

I’d stop coming here like this though. If you wanted. But I don’t think you do. Do you?

You’ve obviously read my diary. Is that why you chose Ghostface?

What do you think? :)

There. Questions answered.

Don’t expect me in person for a bit, you should take some time to process. I know it’s a lot.

I’ll still be there for you though, I wouldn’t leave you completely. Never.

I have a feeling you won’t tell anyone. But I do of course have to ask: please, don’t tell anyone okay? It’d make me sad :(

Not even Lukey or Anakin okay?

I’ll warn you before I make an appearance next time.

Date

July 28th

The bell above the door at the Bluebird chimed and your head perk up immediately. There he was, right on time.

Anakin had been much, much closer to you since your meeting with Ghost. You still hadn’t told him. Probably never would.

Who would believe something so insane anyway? Anakin had handled the whole ‘home intruder and I’ve been drugged’ situation extremely well. He was very supportive, your certain that if you did ever share the information on Ghost with him, he would do his best to validate you, but he’d definitely make you go to therapy.

“My princess.” He grinned, walking up to the counter and sitting on a barstool, both hands palm up on the countertop for you to place yours in.

“Hey Ani.” You smiled softly, you loved this.

You loved what this had bloomed into. You never thought you’d fall for a traditional guy, but here you are, with Anakin.

“Whatcha got left? Almost done?” He queried, rubbing the backs of your hands with his thumbs while he gazed at you with those dreamy blue eyes.

“I’ll be ready to leave as soon as Sara clocks in.” You peered back into the kitchen, hoping to see her walk in the back door any moment.

“Good, we’ve got places to be.” Anakin teased.

“Do I have to go in my work clothes?” You whined. “I smell like french fries!”

“Mmm my favorite perfume of yours.” He snickered. “No, you don’t baby. I brought you a change of clothes. Dress or pants?”

“Oh? You brought options?” You asked in surprise.

“Of course I brought options. I’m not a mind reader.” He smirked.

“No, but you might as well be.” You laughed.

“Mmhmm.” He looked down at your hands and laced his fingers with yours. “Pants?”

“Yes please.” You nodded with a laugh. “See? Mind reader.”

“I wish.” He rolled his eyes. “Just know my girl well that’s all.” He smiled, one hand leaving yours to cup your cheek.

“Sara’s here.” He nodded to the back door as it was opening.

“Oh good!” You said, patting his hand on your cheek and spinning around to clock out.

Once Anakin had led you out to his car he opened the back passenger door and handed you one of your small backpacks with clothes in it.

“Change inside?” He asked, nodding toward the restaurant.

“Ew no.” You scoffed. “I’ll just change in the backseat.” You shrugged.

“Sure thing baby.” He laughed, gesturing for you to get in.

He stood outside with his back resting against the side of the car, ever respectful of you and your boundaries. Soon enough you knocked on the window and he moved out of the way to open the door for you and help you into the front of the car.

“Lookin’ good princess.” He let out a low whistle that had you blushing.

“Thanks.” You squeaked, despite being so comfortable with him, you couldn’t help but be bashful sometimes.

He was never not confident in the things he said to you. If he wanted to tell you something, he did. With his full chest.

Tonight was your first real, official date. Anakin had planned it all for you, you weren’t privy to his choices but you assumed it would be casual considering the clothes he’d offered you. He’d said ‘men should plan the dates and their girls should just enjoy them’.

Fuck feminism. Anakin made you forget you had the right to vote, he made you forget what it was like to do things on your own, he made you forget the horrors of being a girl left alone.

With him around you never had to lift a finger.

So it was no surprise that when you arrived at the restaurant he walked around, opened your door and offered you his arm. Not unexpected that he would order your food for you, somehow he always knew what you wanted, you didn’t even bother picking up the menu anymore.

Not a shock at all that when he got you home you didn’t have to do anything but lay back and be loved.

Part Eight

Just realized that probably not everyone knows what a butterfly knife is, so here’s a gif (I’ll put one in the previous post too) like you’re telling me this isn’t Anakin’s weapon of choice??? Show off.

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