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hockey-fics · 3 years

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Should Have Seen it Sooner ~ Vince Dunn

Summary: You make the decision to go visit your brother, Sammy, after graduating university. But that visit quickly becomes much more than you ever would have anticipated.

Warnings: verbal arguments, language, smut (nothing overly detailed)

Word Count: `13.5k

A/N: Let’s all pretend that Vince isn’t about to be traded ahahaha...I’m sad.

Your brother had always been your best friend. Even when you were kids and you refused to do so much as admit you liked him. He was the one who you would run to in the middle of the night when you were six and going through a phase of horrible nightmares. He would walk you back to your room, check under the bed and in the closet and lay with you till you fell asleep again. And when you were a little older and started having bad anxiety at school you would sit in the guidance counsellor’s office and refuse to talk to anyone but Sammy, who they would reluctantly pull out of class to come calm you down. When he had a bad loss in a hockey game he would come home and watch terrible reality tv with you, never wanting to talk about the game. He was the first person to make fun of you when you got a bad haircut but was also the first person to come to your defence when someone else made a comment about it. He picked you up drunk from many highschool parties, promising not to tell mom and dad. You helped him with girl issues, carefully constructing text messages to girls he liked, planning his dates for him and giving him pep talks before those dates.

So when he moved to St. Louis and seemed to be settling in there for awhile you had to admit you were quite upset. Of course growing up with him in hockey you were used to long periods without him, stretches of time when he was on the road. But him moving so far wasn’t easy for you. Then you moved away for university and while it wasn’t any easier, the distraction of new people, new places, and new experiences was enough to make it more bearable.

But once you graduated you were back to square one, realizing you were lost without your brother. So you took your degree and ran straight to St. Louis to spend whatever free time you had between graduating university and starting your life and career with Sammy.

It had been two weeks since you got there, making yourself comfortable in Sammy and Vince’s spare bedroom. You had only briefly met Vince prior to the trip but you were quickly becoming acquainted with him, despite the fact that he spent most of his free time playing video games which you were not about to distract him from.

“Why are you even going on a date?” Sammy asks, sprawled across the guest room bed with his phone in his hands as you stand on the other side of the room in front of the mirror over the dresser, curling your hair. “You’re don’t even live here.”

Glancing at him through the mirror you let a strand of still hot hair fall over your shoulder. “Do you only ever go on dates if you’re imagining spending the rest of your life with the person?”

Sammy looks over at you, his nose crinkling. “Gross.”

“What?” Your eyebrows are furrowed as you set your curling iron down, turning around to look at Sammy.

“You’re just going on a date with this guy to get fuck-.”

“Stop,” you exclaim, eyes widening. The last thing you wanted was your older brother thinking about your sex life. “No, I’m just meeting people, going out, having fun. I’m not just trying to get…fucked,” you tell him, turning around to look back into the mirror and continue on with your hair. “If that was the case I wouldn’t be putting this much effort into my appearance when it’ll just get wrecked in-.”

“No,” Sammy exclaims, pushing himself up off your bed. “I don’t want to hear it.” Laughing you watch him walk out of your room, shaking his head.

An hour later you’re in Sammy’s car after he convinced you to let him drive you to your date instead of taking an Uber. “Call me when you want me to pick you up,” Sammy tells you as you climb out of your car.

“Okay, dad,” you joke, rolling your eyes as you say your goodbye to Sammy, closing the door.

And call Sammy you did, only it was much earlier than you had expected. The date had gone terribly. It was only twenty minutes into the date, the drinks you had ordered not even at your table yet, when he suggested just leaving and going back to his place. And the suggestive comments didn’t stop, till ten minutes later and you were wondering if he was even going to let you leave at the end of the night without putting up a fight. So you excused yourself to the bathroom, pulling your phone out and dialling Sammy’s number. But he didn’t answer. So you called again, and he didn’t answer. Four more times and you were about to hang up and get an Uber when the dial tone cuts out.

“He didn’t answer the first ten times, why would he answer now?” It’s Vince’s voice, annoyed but also distant and you’re pretty sure that means he’s in the middle of gaming.

“Where’s Sammy?”

“The shower,” Vince tells you, too preoccupied with what he was doing to even so much as question the six, back-to-back phone calls.

“Can you tell him to come pick me up as soon as he’s out of the shower?” You ask, sniffling as you feel an overwhelming wash of panic come over you. This meant you would have to go back and sit with that man for even longer. “Or, could you just go like knock on the door? Tell him to hurry…please?”

“What’s wrong?” Vince asks, his tone shifting slightly.

“I…he-he’s weird,” you mutter, anxiously running your fingers through your hair. “Creepy,” you add, making him aware that it wasn’t a matter of simply not clicking on a first date.

“Text me the restaurant you’re at.”

“What? Sammy knows,” you tell him.

“I’m coming to get you.”

You wanted to tell him that he didn’t have to. You hated burdening people, hated asking for help. But that was far outweighed by your anxiety about the man at the table on the other side of the restaurant. “Thank you, I’ll text it to you now,” you tell him, saying a quick goodbye before hanging up and texting the address to Vince.

’on my way’ Vince sends back immediately.

You spend another few minutes in the bathroom before heading out to the restaurant, slowly making your way to the table. “Hey, I just got a text from my friend. I have to leave,” you tell him, leaving a ten dollar bill on the table, more than enough to cover the drink you ordered but never even got a sip of.

Outside you stand near the entrance of the restaurant, not wanting to stray too far from the brightly lit entrance. You’re surprised when you see Vince’s car pull up in front of you. Not because you didn’t think he would show up, but because you weren’t expecting him to be there that quickly. Hurrying to the passenger’s side door you hop into his car, silent as you stare out the front window, pulling your seatbelt across your body.

“That bad?” Vince asks, putting his car back in drive and pulling away from the restaurant.

“Yes,” is all you’re able to mutter leaning back in your seat, elbow on the window sill as you rest you head in your hand.

“Too bad,” Vince comments, glancing over at you, “You look good tonight, sucks it was wasted on an asshole.”

Your cheeks get warm, palms sweaty, and you’re not sure why. All you can manage to do is glance over at Vince and mutter a simple, “thanks, I guess.”

The next thing you know you’re in a Dairy Queen drive through and Vince is looking over at you. “What do you want?”

“I didn’t…wait, what?” But Vince is pulling up to the speaker before you have any longer to question it so you tell him what you want and wait in silence till he pulls ahead. “I didn’t realize we were getting ice cream.”

“And we’re going to watch that shitty tv show you’re always trying to get Sammy to watch,” Vince tells you, clearly having already constructed a plan for how he was going to turn the night around for you.

“Thank you, Vince,” you whisper and he glances over, eyes meeting yours before shrugging casually, as if it was no big deal. But it was. It was a big deal. He had already gone out of his way to pick you up, something he didn’t need to do. Now he was committing to trying to cheer you up.

Before you know it you’re back at Sammy and Vince’s apartment and Sammy is lost beyond hope regarding the situation. “It’s okay,” you assured Sammy when he asked you about the six phone calls the second you walked through the front door. “Vince came to get me.”

“Why?” Sammy asks, glancing back and forth between the two of you.

“Because you have terrible timing to go have a shower.” Tugging your jacket off you hang it up on the hook by the door. “I should have listened to you, dating is just a bad idea.”

“Well I didn’t exactly say that,” Sammy mutters, following after you and Vince as you head towards the living room. “What happened?”

“My date was a creep, I called your phone…a few times, and Vince answered after he got annoyed with listening to it ring.”

“I wasn’t annoyed,” Vince chimes in, flopping down onto the end of the couch.

Rolling your eyes you glance over at Vince, shaking your head. “Don’t lie, I heard how annoyed you were.”

“I wasn’t annoyed,” Vince repeats, eyes locked on yours.

“Fine,” you comment, but you were still convinced it was a lie and he was just trying not to sound like an asshole after finding out about the situation. “We’re going to watch Selling Sunset, want to join?”

Sammy furrows his eyebrows, glancing over at Vince. “You’re going to watch Selling Sunset?” He asks, directing his question at Vince.

Walking over you sit down on the opposite end of the couch from Vince, pulling your legs and crossing them as you reach for the remote.

“Yeah,” Vince replies, looking over at Sammy while grabbing the remote for you and handing it to you.

Sammy stands in a stunned silence for a minute, staring at Vince in disbelief. He could barely ever convince Vince to let him pick a series and now here he was, willing to watch a reality tv show about Los Angeles real estate. “Okay,” Sammy finally mutters, settling into the love seat on the other side of the room, exchanging silent glances with you. Silent glances that asked, ‘what’s going on?’ But you couldn’t answer, verbally or silently, because you weren’t really sure where this behaviour was coming from with Vince.

A few episodes later and you decide to put Vince and Sammy, who were trying their best to seem like they actually cared about what was on the screen, out of their misery. “I’m going to head to bed,” you tell them, handing the remote to Vince as you push yourself off the couch, stretching your arms over your head. “Thanks again, for everything tonight,” you tell Vince.

“Anytime,” he replies, watching as you walk out of the living room and into the guest room down the hall.

It’s not long before there’s a knock on your door and you look up from where you were laying on the bed scrolling through your phone. Sammy pushes the door open, taking two bounding steps before throwing himself onto your bed. “What happened tonight?” He asks, his tone a serious shift from his actions of throwing himself around like a ragdoll.

Shrugging you lock your phone, setting it down and adjusting higher on your pillow so you could see your brother without fully committing to actually sitting up. “My date was just creepy…he kept trying to get me to leave with him like 5 minutes into the date.”

Sammy visibly tenses up when he hears this, shifting to sit up as he looks down at you. “So you called Vince?”

“I called you,” you exclaim, laughing as you reach other, grabbing a pillow and swinging it towards him. “But you seemed to think the date was going to last longer than half an hour.”

“I’m sorry,” Sammy tells you, and you can tell that he really means it. Normally you were sure he wouldn’t care about not being able to pick you up at the exact moment you wanted him to. He was your brother after all, he cared, but he wasn’t sweet about it. This was just a different type of situation, you knew it, he knew it, and thankfully, Vince had figured that out too.

“It’s fine, I just won’t rely on you…ever again,” you joke.

“That’ll last like twenty minutes,” Sammy replies, laying back down along the foot of your bed. “Till you find a spider in your room and refuse to come back in till I kill it for you.”

“Don’t put that in the universe, that’s so mean to wish that upon me.”

You and Sammy continue talking till you’re about to drift off to sleep and he sneaks out of your room, like he did when you were six and had a nightmare.

A couple days later Sammy and Vince had to go on a five day road trip and you considered going home, brought up the idea to Sammy. He pointed out the fact that you had a key to the apartment, you had gotten comfortable there, and it was only five days. So you agreed to stay, relatively easily at that. Because if you were being honest, you missed being around Sammy, and you were happier there than you had been in awhile.

The morning they were leaving you were saying your goodbyes, hugging Sammy quickly. “Good luck, I’ll miss you. I promise I won’t throw any parties,” you joked. You were used to sad goodbyes with Sammy, after he would come home during the summer and you would have to say goodbye for months. This one felt so different though, knowing it was only a few days apart. It was comforting.

When you pulled away you looked over at Vince, hesitating a second before throwing your arms around him too. “Good luck,” you told him, his arms tight around your waist. It was different than your hug with Sammy, of course it would be, but you weren’t prepared for just how different. You weren’t prepared for the the scent of his cologne, the way he held you tight to his body, the warmth radiating from him, would make your stomach fill with butterflies. “I’ll miss you as well,” you added, playing it off as a joke, but you knew it wasn’t really a joke.

Vince had chuckled in response, your body absorbing the way his laughter rumbled through his body. “I’ll miss you too,” he whispered, sending a shiver down your spine with the quiet tone of his voice. He had pulled away, looking at you once more before the two of them headed out.

You went about your normal routine while they were gone but the quietness of the apartment was starting to get to you around day three, leaving you longing for not just your brother but Vince as well, to be back. So when Sammy told you the time they would be back you went all out, going grocery shopping and picking up all of Sammy’s favourite foods and the few you remember Vince mentioning liking. And you were halfway through cooking dinner for everyone when they got back from their trip.

“Hey,” you called from the kitchen, sautéing a pan full of vegetables, music playing loudly from the speaker on the counter a few feet away. “I’m making dinner, if you guys already ate I’m going to be sad.”

“We didn’t.” Shockingly it’s Vince who’s greets you first, walking up behind you and leaning over your shoulder to look into the pan.

“How was the flight home?” You ask, turning your head to glance up at Vince. He’s closer than you expected and you can’t stop the smile that spreads on your face. You’re convinced it’s because you’re just glad to have people around again, and not because you had really started to like Vince.

“Pretty good,” Vince tells you, stepping to the side to lean against the counter beside the stove. “How was your week alone in my house?”

Rolling your eyes you set the spatula down beside the stove, looking up at him. “Fantastic, your bed is so much more comfortable than the one in the guest room.”

“Oh, really?” Vince chuckles. “I’m willing to share.”

You’re caught off guard by Vince’s comment, unable to come up with a witty response before Sammy is in the room as well. “What are you making?” Sammy asks, walking over and giving you a quick hug before immediately plugging his phone into the nearest outlet and unlocking his phone, typing quickly.

“Stir fry…who are you talking to?” You ask Sammy, your tone teasing.

Sammy shakes his head but his little smile tells you that it’s not nothing. “Ooh,” you laugh, stepping away from the stove to try to look at Sammy’s phone. But he pulls it away quickly and the next thing you know you’re wrestling for Sammy’s phone like you’re both teenagers again. “Just tell me,” you laugh, hand grasping for his phone as he pushes your arm back with his free hand.

“Her name is Anna,” Vince says.

Pulling back from Sammy you glance over at Vince, shocked at his willingness to let you in on Sammy’s business. “Oh,” you hum, picking up the spatula again to stir the vegetables in the pan. “So, who’s Anna?”

“A girl I’ve been talking to for a few weeks,” Sammy tells you easily. There was never really any need to keep it a secret, he was just playing the part of an annoying older brother in trying to keep it a secret. “We went on a date a couple days before we left.”

“You didn’t tell me you were going on a date?”

“I actually didn’t think it would lead to anything,” Sammy confesses.

“Like Y/N’s dating life,” Vince quips.

You whip your head in Vince’s direction, gasping at his comment. “You’re an asshole,” you exclaim, laughing. “I’ll let you know, I could have a boyfriend if I wanted…I’m just not trying right now.”

“Seemed like you were trying,” Vince chuckles.

“I swear to god, Vince,” you mutter, wielding the spatula you were holding with a joking threat.

“Can one of you shut up so we don’t burn the house down, please,” Sammy chimes in and draws your attention back to the vegetables that were starting to stick to the pan. As you go back to finishing up dinner the boys continue on with their own conversations, discussing things that happened over the trip and the upcoming schedule for the week.

After you all finish dinner you’re back in the kitchen to tidy up and do some dishes, but Vince is at your side at the sink quickly after. Nudging you to the side Vince grabs the wash cloth from your hand. “I got it,” he tells you.

“I don’t mind,” you retort, not moving much further away from the beside the sink. “I’m sure you guys are tired.”

“I slept on the flight,” Vince informs you, running the cloth over a mixing bowl in the sink.

Huffing you step away from him, “fine.” Walking to the cupboard you grab the box of tea you bought a few days prior, taking a mug down as well as you turn the kettle on. “Want some tea?”

Vince chuckles, an obvious enough answer, but he follows it up with “no, thanks,” anyway. “So did you go on anymore dates while we were gone?”

Rolling your eyes you hop up onto the counter while you wait for your tea to steep, watching Vince do the dishes. “No, nobody here was to rescue me if it went poorly.”

“So what did you actually do the whole time we were gone?”

Shrugging you bring the tea to your lips, taking a sip of the hot liquid. “Hung out with some friends a few times, explored the city, watched all your games.”

“Friends?”

“Yes, Vince, I’m capable of making friends,” you mutter, rolling your eyes.

“No, that’s not what I meant.” Vince chuckles, glancing over at you. “I just mean, like, you’re just here visiting and you’re still making friends? Where did you meet them anyway?”

“The gym,” you inform him, your voice quiet and deflated. You didn’t really like to think about that fact, about the reality that you would have to make some kind of move soon. You couldn’t live in this vacation-like reality forever. No matter how much you wanted to.

After the dishes are done Vince heads to his computer to play video games and you head to the living room to watch some TV till Sammy was done unpacking and you could convince him to hang out with you and give you all the details about Anna.

And two days later Sammy was beyond glad that he had given you all the details about Anna when he sent you a panicky text. The boys had the day off and Sammy had gone out to run a few errands while you were hanging out at the house with Vince. ‘I told Anna I would cook her dinner at my place.’

‘that’s dumb, you can’t cook’ you replied quickly, sitting on the couch and watching Vince play video games. You were trying to be more involved with that after he had started watching the occasional episode of Selling Sunset with you.

‘that’s not the issue’ ‘I’ll figure that out’ ‘You and Vince can’t be there, it’ll be awkward’

Sighing you glance up from your phone screen to Vince. “Vince,” you call, standing up from the couch and making your way across the room. “We gotta go.”

“Where?” Vince mutters, not peeling his eyes off the screen in front of him.

“I don’t know,” you confess while sending Sammy a text to tell him you were on it, to give you twenty minutes and you’d be out. “Sammy is kicking us out.”

“What?” Vince asks, spinning in his chair once his game had ended.

“He needs the apartment for a date, now hurry up, we’re going out for awhile.”

Vince groans and sets his controller down, reluctantly pulling himself off the chair. “I didn’t agree to this.”

“I agreed on your behalf.” Walking into your room you grab a jacket, your wallet, and keys before hurrying back towards the door where Vince was already pulling on his shoes. “Have anything you needed to get done?” You ask him once you had your shoes on and you were on your way out the door behind Vince.

“I would have already been doing it.”

Rolling your eyes you reach forward and shove him playfully. “If you don’t stop being an asshole I’ll drop you off at the library for four hours.”

“It’s my car…and I’m driving.”

“No, please, let me drive,” you ask, shuffling quickly in front of him and spinning around so you were facing him. Sammy had given you permission to drive his car while he was out of town and you had loved exploring the city, not really knowing where you were going, just driving.

“No, I’ve seen you drive.” Vince keeps his hand folded firmly over his car keys, gazing down at you.

“That was one time,” you defend.

“One time we almost died.”

Rolling your eyes you cross your arms over your chest. “You’re so dramatic, it wasn’t that bad.”

Suddenly Vince has his hands on your arms and he’s spinning you around, pushing you towards the car. “Get in the car,” his voice is filled with urgency and you notice Sammy pulling up towards the apartment parking lot.

Giggling at the whole situation you hop into his car, watching Sammy pull into his parking stall. Neither you or Vince had to bring up the idea of staying in the car and doing a little light-hearted spying, you were silently on board with the idea. You watch Sammy get out, trying to make it to the passenger’s side of the car to open Anna’s door but she’s already getting out and you watch as the awkwardly fumble around the door for a second. Both you and Vince glance over at each other at the same, bursting into laughter.

“No, but they are cute together,” you comment through your giggles, watching as they laugh off the exchange, Sammy closing the door behind her.

“He wouldn’t shut up about her over the trip.”

“That’s cute.” You watch as they head into the apartment building together before turning your attention back to Vince. “What about you?”

“What about me?” Vince turns his car on, putting it into drive and pulling out of the parking lot, no real destination in mind.

“You must have someone you can’t shut up about…I mean, look at you,” you comment absentmindedly, not really thinking about how it would come across.

“Are you calling me hot, Y/N?”

“Well,” you hum, laughing as your cheeks redden slightly. “I think it’s like, objective, you know. Anyone would say you’re hot.”

“So you don’t personally find me hot?”

“Oh my god,” you exclaim, shaking your head as Vince simply chuckles. He was really trying his hardest to keep you from getting out of that one easily. “Where are we going?”

“The library, I’m leaving you there,” Vince jokes.

“Great, books are more entertaining than you anyway,” you quip.

“I was going to take you to get a coffee but maybe not now.”

“No,” you whine, laughing. Vince had clearly noticed when all three of you would get in the car to go anywhere the first time thing out of your mouth was ‘can we get a coffee’? “I take it back then.”

So a few minutes later you’re in the drive through at Starbucks and you don’t even need to tell Vince your order because he has it memorized, which you’re surprised by. He pays for your coffee even though you insist that you can buy it. Then you’re driving again and you end up parked in front of a shoe store.

“I actually did have something I needed to get done,” Vince tells you, chuckling.

“Oh, so you were just being rude for no good reason then,” you comment, hoping out of the car after him and walking towards the store with Vince. “Does this mean I get to help you pick shoes?”

“Uh,” Vince mutters, glancing down to your shoes. “No.”

“Take me to the library, you’re so mean,” you whine, playfully pushing his arm.

Vince laughs, reaching over and grabbing your hand as you push him. “Come on,” he huffs jokingly, pulling you along into the store. And you suddenly can’t focus on anything but his hand, the way it so easily wrapped around yours, warm and secure. But it makes you nervous, the way it causes butterflies to fill your stomach, so you pull it away quickly.

You’re in the shoe store much longer than you though, Vince taking an excessively long amount of time to make a decision. But you don’t mind because in all honesty, you simply liked being around Vince. Your next stop is for dinner and Vince picks the restaurant, still acting as an unofficial tour guide for you.

By the time dinner is over you had expected to receive a text from Sammy, letting you know that it was fine to come home. But you get nothing, so you and Vince go get ice cream and drive to a lookout, listening to music and eating your dessert. Your conversation flows easily and you would happily have sat there for hours with Vince, talking and joking. But you get a text message from Sammy shortly after telling you he was taking Anna home.

“We’re safe to go back,” you tell Vince, pulling your seatbelt back on.

“Too bad,” Vince mutters.

“What?”

Vince glances across the interior of the car at you, silent for a second as he tugs his seatbelt on. “It’s just been more fun than I thought this would be.”

“I don’t know how to take that,” you laugh. It was nice to hear he had been having a good time, but you didn’t know if you should be upset that he was anticipating it not being a very good time.

Vince chuckles, not saying anything else about it as the two of you drive back to the apartment. You’re back before Sammy and you head for the living room, Vince following after you and not putting saying anything as you pick the movie for the night.

‘going to get an uber now’

You had gone out with your new group of friends for the night, one drink turning to two and two turning to a count you had lost long ago. You had been texting Vince all night, though it wasn’t anything new. The two of you had fallen into a routine of texting almost anytime you were apart. He had picked up on your dwindling sobriety throughout the night, as almost anyone reading your messages could have. So when you told him you were getting an Uber he was quick to reply.

‘I’ll come get you, where are you?’

So you sent him your address, you and your friends paying your bills before heading outside for everyone to wait for their rides. Shockingly it’s Vince who shows up first and your friends are quick to make comments about how none of their real boyfriends were that quick to get there. You brushed it all off, making excuses that he was just a good friend, that he was probably speeding anyway, that you didn’t live that far. Anything to not admit the fact that you and Vince might have a connection that was becoming more than just friendly.

“Hi,” you greet, cheerful as you climb into Vince’s car. It was so unlike the first time he picked you up and Vince was grateful for that, not just because you were in a better mood but also because it meant you hadn’t been out on a date.

“How was your night?” Vince laughs.

“Good,” you giggle, looking over at him as he drives back to the apartment. And you can’t help but think about how attractive he truly was, how he made your heart beat just a little faster. He was your brother’s best friend and you knew the feelings you were having towards him were complicated. “Yours?”

“Probably not as good as yours,” he jokes, taking note of the way you couldn’t stop smiling, primarily a result of the alcohol in your system. But there was also a part of you that was just happy to be around him.

“So anyway, Michael has been staying late at work all the time and Lily is starting to get suspicious about it,” you ramble as you walk through the apartment door with Vince. It’s quiet in the apartment and you realize you hadn’t texted Sammy in awhile, wondering if he was in bed. “Sammy?” You call, stumbling slightly over the edge of the doormat.

Vince wraps an arm around your waist, steadying you as he laughs. “He’s in bed,” Vince tells you. “What do you need?”

“Nothing,” you admit, clutching onto the arm Vince had wrapped around your waist. “Just wanted to say hi to him.”

Vince chuckles and nods. “I think you should go to bed too.” He gently guides you further into the apartment, reaching over to turn the deadbolt on the door while keeping one arm around you, as if you couldn’t stand on your own.

“Hey, Vince,” you whisper although you didn’t need to get his attention.

“Yes, Y/N?” He steps closer now, looking down at you in the silent apartment, waiting to hear what your drunk mind was coming up with.

“Thank you, for everything, for letting me stay here this long. I promise I’ll leave soon. I know you didn’t sign up to have two roommates.”

Vince smiles softly, shrugging. “Don’t worry about it. I like having you here. I don’t, you know, want you to leave if that’s what you’re thinking.”

“Oh,” you whisper, processing the idea that you weren’t annoying Vince with your extended stay. “I mean it though, thank you.”

“Come on, let’s get you to bed,” Vince says, changing the subject as he guides you through the apartment to the guest bedroom. He hovers near the doorway, clearly wanting to make sure you were settled in bed before leaving you.

You knew he was there, you knew you should ask him to look away if he wanted to stay till you were in bed, but you don’t. Instead you simply pull your shirt up over your head, exposing a lacy black bra you had worn for no real reason except that it made you feel confident. Shimmying your jeans down your legs you toss them aside carelessly. You don’t even look over at Vince as you reach behind you to unhook that bra, missing the way he stood there, stunned and frozen with his eyes on you. You let your bra fall to the ground, your body angled away from Vince as you grab a t-shirt from the dresser.

“Y/N?” Sammy’s voice calls through the apartment.

“Fuck,” you mutter, clutching the shirt to your bare chest. Your wide eyes look over at Vince who comically steps back and forth between the wide-open bedroom door, clearly not knowing what the correct move was. “Just close it.” And Vince does exactly that, from the inside. “Vince,” you groan.

“You told me to,” he defends, his hand still resting on the doorknob.

“From outside,” you tell him. “Now this just looks…weird.”

“Y/N? Are you okay?” Sammy calls through the closed bedroom door.

“Yeah,” you call back, spinning around to leave your back facing Vince as you pull your t-shirt on, grateful for the size and length of it. “Just getting ready for bed.”

“Okay, just wanted to make sure you got home safe.”

Home. Your eyes flick over to Vince, trying to see if he caught onto the same, subtle insinuation. But he still just looked panicky as he stands beside the closed door. “Yeah, I’m just going to bed now.”

“Can I come in and say goodnight?”

Your heart begins to race as stare at Vince in silence for a second. “Yeah.”

You couldn’t say no, he would immediately know that something was wrong. Sammy pushes the door open a second later and Vince looks to you in panic. “How was-,” Sammy begins to ask when he spots Vince, looking back and forth between the two of you. “What’s going on?”

You weren’t sure why you felt so guilty. You hadn’t done anything with Vince, it wasn’t a lie to say that nothing was happening, that he was just making sure you got to bed safely. Maybe the reason you felt so guilty was because that wasn’t all you wanted to happen. “Vince picked me up, was just making sure I got to bed safely.”

Sammy nods slowly, not seeming convinced. “Well I got it from here,” he mutters to Vince, nodding towards the still open door. Vince glances back at you one more time before leaving, the silence in the room painful. “What’s going on?” Sammy repeats once it’s just you and him.

“Nothing,” you exclaim, flopping down onto your bed and climbing under the covers, hoping to make it obvious that you didn’t have anything else to say.

“You two are getting really close,” Sammy points out. “Are you sure it’s nothing?”

“Yes,” you huff, dramatically yanking your blankets higher up around your shoulders. “Go back to bed.”

“Don’t have to be so moody,” Sammy grumbles, turning off your light and closing the door behind him as he leaves your room. Once he’s gone you lay awake for most of the night, your mind racing with thoughts of Vince. Thoughts you knew you shouldn’t be feeling towards him but the more you tried to think of anything other than him the more vivid the thoughts became till your mind eventually silenced itself completely and you drifted to sleep.

“I’m spending the night at Anna’s place,” Sammy told you a few days later as he was grabbing his keys off the counter and heading for the door.

Giggling you glance up from the book you were reading, shooting him a knowing look.

“Don’t be weird,” he comments, chuckling.

“What do you mean? I didn’t say anything,” you joke, feigning innocence.

“I don’t know where Vince is, he left while you were at the gym, don’t know when he’ll be back,” Sammy informs.

“Have fun tonight,” you call as he walks out the front door.

A few hours later you’ve migrated to the kitchen, finishing up baking some cookies while you were trying to figure out how you wanted to spend the rest of the evening.

“Hey.”

Jumping you whirl around to face the direction of that the sudden voice comes from. Bringing your hand to your chest over your racing heart you laugh in relief when you see it’s just Vince. “You scared me, I didn’t hear you come in.”

“Sorry,” Vince chuckles, reaching over and taking one of the cookies off the cooling rack on the counter. “Where’s Sammy?”

“He’s at Anna’s place for the night,” you explain, leaning against the counter. “Are they good? It’s a new recipe.”

“Yeah, really good. So we’re alone tonight?” Vince asks, elbows on the counter as he leans against it, eyes focused on you.

“Can’t believe he left us without supervision,” you joke, pulling the last tray of cookies out of the oven before turning it off.

“What do you want to do?”

“Movie night?”

“Sure,” Vince agrees, shrugging as he pushes himself off the counter. “Let’s go pick up dinner first.”

After a quick trip to the grocery store and your favourite sushi restaurant you’re back at the apartment, pouring yourself a glass of wine while Vince was already opening up the boxes of sushi. “Want some?” You ask Vince, gesturing to the wine.

“Uh,” he hums before shaking his head. “I’ll pass on that,” he chuckles, walking to the fridge and grabbing a beer for himself.

“Should have figured,” you giggle, putting the white wine back into the fridge.

In the living room you two settle onto the couch to have dinner and pick the first movie of the night. Halfway through the second movie you’ve lost your focus on the plot, eyes on your phone as you curl into the corner of the couch, scrolling through your instagram feed.

“What is more interesting than this movie?” Vince questions, gesturing to the tv and the movie he had picked that was playing on it.

Glancing up you roll your eyes playfully. “Almost anything.” Scooting down the couch you settle in beside Vince, letting him see your phone screen.

And within seconds the movie is long forgotten as he chuckles at a meme you scroll by. The transition from Instagram to TikTok is quick and so is the movement from you sitting beside Vince to you being tucked under his arm and leaning into his side. You’re both giggling at the short videos and the time slips by quickly, the credits on the tv rolling and reminding you of the fact that you had planned a movie night. “Do I get to pick the next one?”

Vince reluctantly hands you the remote, wrapping his arm around you as you rest your head against his shoulder. His body is warm and his embrace is comforting and you know you shouldn’t want to stay like this with him forever, but you do.

The next movie is more interesting but you find it just as hard to focus on with the way you were wrapped up in Vince’s arms. You’re not even sure what compels you to look up at Vince, he hadn’t said anything, hadn’t moved. But he notices and turns his attention to you a second later. “What?” He asks, voice low and rough in a way that makes your breath catch in your throat.

“Nothing,” you whisper, barely able to make any sound come from your mouth as your cheeks get hot. And you want to say the flushing is from the wine but it only started when Vince’s eyes landed on your and you know he wouldn’t believe your lie.

“Are you sure?”

You swallow hard, shifting slightly towards him. “I don’t know.”

Vince’s lips curl into a soft smile, eyes lingering on your lips as he reaches forward to brush a piece of your hair out of your face. “Then just show me what you’re thinking.”

It’s an invitation and you know he’s saying it because he already knows exactly what you’re thinking. But it’s risky and you both know that, too scared to make the move when the potential of it ending poorly is so high. But you can’t hold back any longer. So you lean forward, just enough for him to get the message and he takes over, hand around the back of your head as he leans over and kisses you.

And he kisses you like he’s making every second worth it if things do end poorly. When you pull back your mind is racing a million miles an hour but your body is begging to do it again. You wait a second, hoping Vince would say something. But he doesn’t, and you don’t either, and you can’t think of anything better to do than lean back in and press your lips back against his. This time it’s heated in a way that you had never felt before and you’re climbing into his lap, hips grinding down on him. You weren’t aware of just how badly you needed him to touch you until that very minute when his lips brushed against yours.

“Are you going to actually share your bed with me tonight?” You whisper against his lips when you finally pull back.

“I would’ve shared my bed with you any night you wanted.” Vince grasps your hips, gently pushing you away from him and helping you onto your feet before standing up with you. “Are you sure?”

Smiling you lean up, kissing him quickly again. “Yes, of course.”

Vince wraps his large hand around yours, slowly walking you through the apartment. As if he didn’t want to seem too eager, careful and tentative around the whole situation.

But once you’re in his room, on his bed, Vince is far less careful and tentative. And the night ends with you feeling barely able to move, body having ridden through more highs in one go than you had ever felt.

As soon as you’re done Vince goes back to being careful, considerate as the two of you shower together and he lets you pick out a t-shirt before curling up under the covers of his bed.

“Should we have done that?” You finally whisper after laying next to Vince with your head on his chest in silence for what felt like ages.

“I’m not sure,” Vince admits with an obvious reluctance, running his hand along your bare arm.

“Sammy was already suspicious of us.”

“I figured,” Vince tells you, sighing. “After the night I picked you up?”

“Yeah…I told him it was nothing…I mean, like, I know it was nothing, but-.”

“It wasn’t,” Vince interrupts, pulling you a little closer and pressing his lips to your forehead. “This isn’t nothing to me, Y/N. If I just wanted a quick fuck I definitely wouldn’t pick my best friend and roommate’s sister, no matter how hot you are.”

“Oh,” is all you can say, caught off guard. “Well then, what does it mean?”

Vince is quiet for too long after you ask, the only way you could tell he was still awake in the dark room was his hand still running up and down your arm. “I have feelings for you, but other than that…I don’t know,” Vince finally mutters.

“I think we need to give it some time, not tell Sammy this happened yet.”

“Just go back to the way things were?”

“Yeah,” you whisper.

Vince moves his hands to your waist, pulling you on top of him.

“Vince,” you exclaim, hands clambering for support till they find his bare shoulders, holding you up as you look down at his silhouette below you.

“I don’t know if I can do that,” Vince chuckles, his thumbs running along your upper thighs, large hands now wrapped around the backs of them.

“I think you can,” you assure him, leaning down to press your lips to his. But the fact that you could feel him getting hard again makes you a little wary about whether he really could. “Maybe,” you whisper, moving your hips back as you reach down, wrapping around his length.

“Fuck,” he groans, head tipping back on the pillow. And the last thing you had expected when you crawled into Vince’s bed after the first few rounds was to be doing it again. But you were making up for lost time. It’s slower this time, both of your tired bodies just searching for another release. And you find it, easier than normal, on top of Vince still in his t-shirt, panties simply pushed to the side.

When you finish Vince is quick to help you get cleaned up again, letting you remain collapsed on his bed. You can’t stop your heart from fluttering with excitement with him, at how considerate and caring he was. And when he finally settles back down you curl back into his side. “We need to agree on something.”

“Alright,” Vince mutters apprehensively.

“We can’t hook up when Sammy is here, it’s too risky.”

“Fine,” Vince finally agrees after a couple minutes of contemplation. The two of you drift to sleep very shortly after.

Your eyes flutter open to a gentle shaking of your shoulder. “Hey, babe, you have to wake up,” Vince says, voice quiet. “Sammy and I have practice in a couple hours, he’s going to be home soon.”

Groaning you roll away from him, head buried in his pillow. “It’s too early.”

“I know,” Vince chuckles sitting on the edge of the bed and running his hand along your arm. “You’re the one who doesn’t want your brother to find out.”

“Don’t act like you want him to know you railed his sister the first time he left us alone,” you mumble, still half asleep.

“When you put it that way,” Vince chuckles, head whipping towards the bedroom door when he hears the sound of the front door closing.

“Shit,” you whisper, suddenly fully awake as you sit up completely straight.

“Just stay here, I’ll tell him you haven’t come out of you room yet this morning,” Vince suggests.

Nodding you run your hands through your messy hair, anxiety creeping up on you. If you were going to tell Sammy anything at this point you would rather just admit that you and Vince had feelings for each other, not that you spent the night in his bed.

“Don’t worry, it’s believable. It’s not like you don’t normally sleep in till one in the afternoon.”

Scoffing you roll your eyes, flopping back onto Vince’s bad. “Whatever,” you grumble. “Text me when you two are gone,” you mutter, glad your phone had been in your pocket when you made your way to Vince’s room the night before.

And when you finally get a text from Vince saying they were gone you pull yourself out of bed, making it behind you before wandering out of the bedroom. The apartment is so quiet and you make yourself some coffee, still just in Vince’s t-shirt. Something about it feels so right, so comfortable. After making a coffee you settle down on one of the barstools at the counter in the kitchen, opening your laptop and navigating to Indeed and before you’re even fully processing what you’re doing you’ve sent out a handful of resumes to jobs in St. Louis.

After you finish applying to jobs you move on to getting ready for the day. When Sammy and Vince finally get home you feel the weight of so many secrets on your chest. Of not telling Sammy about you and Vince, of not telling Sammy and Vince about applying for jobs in St. Louis.

“How was your night?” You ask Sammy as he walks into the kitchen, looking up over the top of your laptop.

“Good,” Sammy replies, grabbing himself a snack from the fridge. “How was yours?”

“Good,” you reply simply, looking back down at your computer.

“Up late?” Looking back up you stare at Sammy for a second, feeling like he was trying to catch you in a lie. “I mean, you were still in bed when I left this morning.”

Nodding you pick up your mug, shrugging. “TikTok is pretty addicting,” you comment, brushing it off as you take a sip of your coffee. “I’m going grocery shopping, do you have anything in particular that you need?”

“Just the regular stuff we keep in the house,” Sammy shrugs, not wanting to have to actually think about it.

Rolling your eyes you close your laptop and slide off the stool you were sitting on. “Really helpful, can I borrow your car?”

Sammy groans loudly. “What if I wanted to go out?”

“Well do you?”

“I’ll just take you,” Vince chimes in, walking into the room.

Glancing over your eyes linger on Vince’s for a second, wanting so badly to be able to say something or hug him, something…anything. “Thanks,” you finally mutter, realizing you needed to say something and not just stand there and stare at him.

“Want to go now?”

“Yeah, sure,” you agree, gathering your things and pulling on a hoodie on your way out the door. Once you’re outside you glance behind you and up at Vince. “So, since when are you so interested in grocery shopping?”

“Since it means being with you…away from your brother,” Vince chuckles, hands on your waist, tugging you to stop and pulling you into him. Leaning down he presses his lips to yours, your head tipped back and to the side, fingers clutching at his arm.

“You’re not being very secretive,” you giggle, pulling back and looking around the front parking lot of the apartment building.

“Fine, I’ll wait till we’re in the car.”

Rolling your eyes you get into the passenger’s side of Vince’s car. “We’re going to get groceries…that’s it.”

You drive to the closest grocery story and head inside with Vince, pushing the cart down almost every aisle, the two of you talking and making jokes the whole time. It’s such a mundane task, grocery shopping, but somehow doing it with Vince makes it enjoyable and fun.

Back at the apartment you lug an armload of groceries inside, seeing Sammy sitting on the couch, xbox controller in this hands. “Thanks for the help,” you call to him sarcastically.

Sammy chuckles, barely glancing in your direction. “You’ve got Vince.”

Your heart beats a little faster at that comment, dropping the bags onto the counter and looking over at Vince. You know that he didn’t miss the comment either by the smirk on his face, the way he walks over and wraps his arms around your waist. “See, he’s already accepted it,” Vince whispers jokingly.

“Shut up,” you giggle, rolling your eyes as you playfully push him away and turn around to begin putting groceries away. Vince continues to make subtle moves, sliding his hand along your lower back as he walks by to put a box of crackers into the cupboard, stepping up behind you to take the can of chickpeas that you were struggling to put onto the top shelf out of your hand and doing it for you. It takes you two forever to finally put everything away and once you do it’s time to start making dinner. “Are you going to help me or just be in my way?” You tease.

“I know you like having me around.”

Shaking your head you look down at the recipe on your phone, unable to argue against that. You really didn’t want Vince to leave, even if he was really just getting in your way. Because you liked Vince, a lot more than you should.

A few days later you received a call from one of the businesses you applied to asking you to come in for an interview, to which you easily agreed. It was during another four day span of Vince and Sammy being gone so you were able to get ready and go for your interview without any questions. There was something about admitting to the fact that you were trying to find a job in St. Louis that scared you. Perhaps it was simply because it was a little crazy. You would need to find a job willing to arrange a visa for you, you would need to find your own apartment, and quite frankly, you probably just hadn’t thought it through enough. But you didn’t want to leave either, you were having a good time here with your brother and Vince, although you were trying to convince yourself that Vince had nothing to do with the decision.

The interview went well and the next morning you got a call with a job offer. You accepted it quickly, not just because it meant you could stay in St. Louis but because it was also a job you were more than interested in.

Sammy and Vince get home later that afternoon and you pull Sammy into the living room. “I have some news.”

“Okay?” Sammy mutters, eyebrows furrowed, hands folded nervously over his knees as he sits on the edge of the couch.

“I got a job.”

“Oh, congratulations,” Sammy says, the news processing in his head as you watch his body language sink a little. “Does this mean you’re going back home?”

Shaking your head you fidget with a piece of thread on your hoodie sleeve. You weren’t sure why you were nervous to tell him that you had found a job there. “It’s here.”

Sammy has his arms around you quickly, pulling you to your feet and into a tight hug. “You’re staying here?”

Laughing you pull back from him, staring up at him in shock. You hadn’t expected him to be that excited about it. “Yes…I mean, I’ll obviously get my own place and car and everything but I’m going to be in the city.”

“What’s going on?” Vince asks, walking into the living room.

“I got a job here,” you tell him, voice quiet and apprehensive. You were a little worried that Vince wouldn’t be happy, that maybe he had only been into you because he figured you would be leaving, that it was a short term thing.

“Here? Like, you’re staying in St. Louis…for good?”

Nodding slowly you glance down at the ground, taking a deep breath. “Yeah.”

“Congratulations,” he tells you, walking over and pulling you into a hug.

“Thanks,” you mumble, pulling back to look up at Vince, trying to read his expression. Unfortunately you come up with nothing, sighing as you step away from him.

It’s not till much later that night when you even get the chance to talk to him more, Sammy barely leaving your side as he excitedly looked through apartment listings with you, even though he assured you that there was no rush for you to move out.

Once everyone had gone to bed you sneak out of your room and down the hallway to Vince’s bedroom, pushing it open slightly. “Vince?” You whisper, trying your hardest not to wake Sammy up in the process.

“Hey, babe,” Vince says softly, making your heart flutter so easily. “Are you going to come in?”

Slipping through the door you shut it softly behind you, fumbling through the dark bedroom to Vince’s bed. “Hey,” you mumble, climbing onto the empty side of the bed and sitting with you legs crossed, watching Vince sit up and lean against the headboard.

“What’s wrong?”

How he knew so quickly that you were worried about something was beyond your comprehension. Normally you weren’t easy to read but Vince saw right through it. “I just…if you thought this was something different because I was going to be leaving, I totally get that. We can go back to just being friends…or not, if you don’t want. We don’t have to tell Sammy, I can move into my own apartment and we can pretend this didn’t happen, it’s fine,” you ramble.

“Y/N,” Vince says quietly, reaching over and placing his hands around your waist, guiding you closer as you slide onto your knees. “I like you…I have feelings for you. I don’t want to pretend this didn’t happen.”

“I just thought, I don’t know. Your reaction earlier wasn’t what I expected.”

Vince pulls you over his lap, hands running along your thighs. “Because you don’t want Sammy to know about us and I didn’t want him to be suspicious if I seemed too happy about it.”

“Oh,” you whisper, sliding your hands along his bare chest, resting them on his shoulders.

Vince chuckles, pulling you closer and leaning up. “I didn’t want to be the one to suggest it, but I was hoping you would look for a job here,” Vince admits before pressing his lips to yours. And you kiss him back eagerly, arms around Vince’s shoulders.

Grinding your hips down into Vince you feel him already getting hard. And you needed him, more than you had ever felt you needed someone in your life.

“Our agreement,” Vince mutters against your lips.

You can feel his breath on your lips, can feel how hard he was below you, can feel every little shift of his fingers along your skin. “Vince, please,” you whimper.

“Fuck, you can’t say it like that and expect me not to cave,” Vince groans, hands on the hem of your t-shirt, yanking it up over your head swiftly. And it comes off easily, your lack of a bra leaving it easy for Vince to immediately bring his lips to your chest.

Tipping your head back you close your eyes, every single kiss, flick of his tongue over your nipples sends waves of anticipation through your body. “Vince,” you moan, rocking your hips back and forth against him, desperate for some kind of contact.

Reaching down Vince slides your pyjama shorts down your legs as you move from one leg to the other, helping him take them off. His hand slips between your bodies, fingers up along your folds towards your clit. He eases his way towards it, circling around your clit till your nails are digging into his back and your body is writhing in desperation. When he finally gets to your clit the wash of pleasure is enough to bring a quiet cry of relief from your lips.

“Fuck, I love hearing you, but I need you to be quiet,” Vince mutters in your ear as he brushes gentle circles over your clit. “Can you do that for me, baby girl?”

All you can manage to do is nod and hum out a muffled “mhm.”

“Good girl,” Vince mutters, replacing his fingers on your clit with his thumb, fingers travelling down towards your entrance, one finger sliding inside of you. You’re trying your hardest to stay quiet, head dropping down to Vince’s shoulder as you bite down on your bottom lip. “Fuck,” you whisper a few minutes later, a few muffled moans slipping from your lips as you reach your high.

Coming down from it you stay on Vince’s lap, pulling your head away from his shoulder to look into Vince’s eyes. Remaining where you were you reach down, hand guiding Vince towards your entrance, a heavy breath leaving your lips as you sink down onto him. Vince groans, hands on your hips as he shifts further down the bed. It’s unbelievably quiet in the room as the two of you find a rhythm, both of you fighting with every ounce of your self-control to remain quiet. You stay on top of Vince the entire time, both of you too scared to be too loud to switch positions. But it doesn’t take you long to reach your second wave of pleasure, your body already sensitive from the first. And it’s only a couple seconds after that Vince reaches his, groaning quietly as his grip on your hips tightens. When you climb off of him and collapse on the bed beside him Vince hops up, grabbing a towel for you and returning quickly to start the cleanup process.

After using the washroom you return to Vince’s bed, curling up at his side, head on his chest. “I shouldn’t sleep in here.”

Vince sighs, running his hand along your back. “We’re going to have to tell him.”

“Do we really, Romeo?” You joke, tugging the blankets up higher on your body despite the fact that you had just told Vince you weren’t spending the night.

There’s a few minutes of silence, Vince’s hand pausing on your back as if all his energy was being funnelled to his brain. “What?”

“Romeo and Juliet,” you tell him.

“You think I’m going to get your Shakespeare references?”

“At least you knew it was Shakespeare.”

Vince chuckles and shakes his head, “I’m not that stupid.”

“Well…,” you giggle, tipping your head back to look at Vince.

“Oh, really?” He laughs, grabbing your wrist and flipping you around onto your back. He hovers over top of you, pinning your wrists down. “That was kinda rude.”

“Too bad I’m actually into this,” you whisper, looking up at him through your eyelashes as you bite gently on your bottom lip.

Vince groans quietly, rolling off of you and flopping back onto his back. “Why is everything you do so hot?”

“Kinda glad you think that way, seems like it gives me an upper hand.”

“Looking like that you definitely have the upper hand, for sure,” Vince chuckles, wrapping his arm around your waist as he pulls you into him. And the two of you continue talking, the whole time you were fully intending to make your way back to your own bed.

But you don’t ever make it out of Vince’s room that night.

“Get your lazy ass up.” You’re startled away by a voice yelling through Vince’s door, fist knocking a minute later. “We’re going to be late for practice again, enculé.”

“Oh, shit,” you mutter under your breath, grasping at the blankets on Vince’s bed yanking them up over your bare torso as you sit up. “Vince,” you whisper, shaking his somehow still sleeping form.

“Hmm?” He hums, rolling over to face you. “What’s wrong?”

But before you have the chance to say anything Vince’s door flies open and your eyes meet with Sammy’s. You watch him visibly try to process what was going on in front of him, eyes wide and fists clenched.

“Sammy,” you begin, watching him step back, shaking his head in disbelief. “Sammy, wait, I…it’s not what it looks like.”

“Really?” Sammy counters, obviously knowing that it was exactly what it looked like. But he’s already on his way back out of the bedroom and you make a move to stand up but Vince grabs your arm before you have the chance.

“Give him a second to process,” Vince suggests, glancing down at the way you were clutching his blankets to your naked body. “And maybe put some real clothes on.”

Nodding you crawl out of Vince’s bed, pulling on the pyjama’s you were wearing when you showed up in his room the night before. Vince gets up a minute later, pulling on a pair of jeans a hoodie, glancing at his phone. “We are going to be late,” he mutters, his back to you as he gathers his keys and wallet, jamming them into his pockets.

“Vince, I’m scared.”

Vince turns around quickly, eyes on you. You had your arms wrapped tight around your body, eyes teary. “Hey,” Vince says gently, walking over and pulling you into a gentle hug, resting his chin on top of your head. “It’s okay, everything is going to be fine.”

“Did you see him? He looked so upset…he’s going to be mad, Vince. I can’t, I can’t handle him being mad at me.”

You didn’t even realize you were crying till Vince pulls back, reaching up and wiping away the tears from your cheeks. “He won’t be mad at you, he’ll be mad at me. I’m the one who started this.”

You’re caught off guard by this, laughing softly. “That’s a lie.”

“It’s not.”

“I kissed you on the couch,” you remind him, your hands wrapped around his forearms as you stare up into his eyes.

“I came home early and skipped going for drinks with the guys that night because Sammy told me he was going out for the night. I was hoping for what happened that night.”

You’re caught off guard by his confession, speechless and frozen in place.

Glancing over you see Sammy step into the doorway, slowly pulling away from Vince “We have to go.”

“Yeah,” Vince mutters, reaching over and grabbing your hand, squeezing it as he steps out of the bedroom with Sammy.

You watch them walk away in silence, not leaving Vince’ bedroom till you hear the front door close. Slowly making your way out of the bedroom you try to busy yourself with tidying the apartment to keep yourself thinking too much about the situation.

“Y/N,” Sammy’s voice calls later in the day, walking into the living room where you were sitting on your laptop, scrolling through apartment listings.

“Hey,” you say quietly, looking up at him. Reaching forward you slowly close your laptop, setting it down on the coffee table in front of you. “How was practice?”

“Fine,” he says, sitting down on the love seat beside the couch you were on. Sammy watches you glance in direction of the hallway. “He went to Jordan’s place.”

“Oh,” you whisper, feeling your heart sink a little.

“It wasn’t his idea,” Sammy tells you, noticing how disappointed you seemed. “I wanted to talk to you alone.”

“Oh,” you repeat, not knowing what to say. Your brother had always known the details of your relationships, telling him all about your crushes, dates, when boyfriends would upset you. This had been the first time you kept something like that a secret from him, and now you were regretting it. Perhaps if you had told him earlier, when you first started to develop feelings for Vince things would have been different. But now it seemed like you two knew there was something wrong with what you were doing, needing to keep it a secret.

The silence in the room is heavy, and it feels painful as you fidget in your seat. Sammy staring at you for a few minutes before finally saying anything. “Why?”

Staring down at the ground you try to come up with an answer to his question. “I like him,” you whisper, shrugging.

“Why him? Did you not even think about what’ll happen when things end between you two?”

“That’s really optimistic,” you mumble, eyes focused on your fingers as you pick a few pieces of lint off of your jeans.

“Well what?” Sammy asks, voice raising in frustration. “You going to marry him?”

Finally looking up at Sammy you roll your eyes, sighing loudly.

“God, now I see why mom got so mad every time you rolled your eyes,” Sammy mutters. “Why the hell are you even rolling your eyes?”

“Because I’m not even thinking about marriage…with Vince or anyone else. That’s crazy,” you reply, your voice getting louder and louder with each word.

“So you’re going to break up with him, or he’s going to break up with you and then my friendship with him is going to be fucked,” Sammy snaps. “You really didn’t consider that? That you’re ruining my friendship with Vince…and for what?”

“Stop yelling at me,” you yell back, hoping up from the couch and staring down at him, tears welling up in your eyes. “I’m sorry, Sammy. I don’t know what to say, I like him.” Sniffling you reach up, wiping away tears from underneath your eyes.

“I’m not okay with it.”

Wrapping your arms tight around your body you try to compose yourself, try to stop the tears from continuously flooding your eyes. You hated that you cried during conflict, hated that when it was conflict with Sammy that reaction was always heightened. “What do you want me to do then?”

Sammy glares up at you, shaking his head. “You already fucked it up, it’s too late for you to do anything.”

It feels like someone just punched you in the stomach, physical pain radiating through your body in response to his words. But you can’t think of a single defence for yourself. “Fuck you,” is all you manage to croak out before turning around and hurrying in the direction of the front door.

“Where are you going?” Sammy calls, following after you.

“I don’t know,” you tell him honestly, yanking on a jacket you had hanging up on a hook beside the door. “Does it really matter? I mean, I’m such a fuck up anyway.”

“I didn’t say that,” Sammy exclaims, watching you pull on a pair of shoes. “Can you just stop? We’re not kids anymore, you can’t just fucking run away.”

“No, we’re not,” you snap, standing up straight again. “So why are you treating me like one?”

“Because it’s my goddamn life you’re messing with.”

“You don’t have to be such an asshole,” you whisper, tears now streaming down your face with no chance of you being able to contain them. “I’m sorry I developed feelings for your friend, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about, I’m sorry I acted on it…I’m sorry I came here, I don’t know what you want me to say.” You’re reaching for the doorknob a moment later, yanking the door open.

“Don’t say that, stop, Y/N, where the fuck are you even going to go?” Sammy asks, reaching for your arm which you pull away from him before he has the chance to grab you. “You can’t just wander around alone crying."

“Well it’s not like this apartment is feeling overly hospitable right now,” you tell him, wiping the tears off your cheeks. “I never would have thought you would be such an asshole over me falling for a guy. I’m sorry he’s your friend, I wasn’t trying to make that happen. In fact, I was trying not to. But you don’t really care, do you? Because the situation isn’t perfect for you so why should you even try to accept it?”

With that you leave the apartment. You take an Uber to one of your new friend’s houses, thankful that she had replied before your Uber even got there that she was free and wanted to hang out. After a brief explanation of what was going on you settle down on her couch, her puppy curled up in your lap as you two talk, able to get your mind off of the situation with Sammy and Vince, even if only for a short period of time.

You two order take out and lay on the couch, sending each other dumb tiktoks for the majority of the night.

‘Are you okay?’ It’s a text from Vince and you switch from the tiktok app to your messages.

‘Yeah, I’m fine. I’m at my friend’s place. You’re home now?’

“Vince texted, I think he just got home,” you tell your friend, sitting up on her couch with a sigh.

“Did he say anything about the situation?” She asks, turning her head to look over at you.

Shaking your head you look down at your screen, watching the three dots inside a text bubble, waiting to get the text he was typing. ‘Yes, when are you coming back?’

‘I don’t know. I guess soon, I just don’t know what to do.’

‘About what?’

‘Sammy’ ‘Us’

‘Can I come pick you up?’

And twenty minutes later you’re leaving your friend’s house, promising to keep her updated on the situation.

“Hey,” you greet as you get into Vince’s car, glancing over at him while pulling on your seatbelt.

“Hey.” Vince reaches over, placing his hand on your thigh, squeezing gently. “How did it go with Sammy?”

“Not great,” you admit, placing your hand on top of Vince’s, sliding your fingers between his and folding your hand over his. “Did you guys talk?”

“A bit.” Vince says, pulling out of the parking lot of the apartment. “What did he say to you?”

“That I’m messing up his life,” you mumble, your eyes filling with tears. “Basically I fucked up and whatever the fallout from this is it’s all my fault.”

Vince’s hand clenches around the steering wheel as he drives with no particular destination in mind. Of course Sammy was one of his best friends and that wasn’t about to change over one fight. But friends didn’t always agree on everything, didn’t always get along. And by the way Vince’s jaw was clenched, eyes glaring through the windshield in front of him, it was clear that was the case. “That’s such bullshit. You know that’s not true...right?”

“What if it’s not?” you croak. “Are we being selfish? Your friendship with Sammy, jeopardizing that when this ends?”

“It doesn’t have to end poorly and ruin anything,” Vince points out. “It doesn’t have to end,” he adds.

“Vince,” you whisper, glancing down at your hands folded together. How perfect they fit, how comfortable you were with him. “That’s crazy to say right now.”

“I know,” he admits, squeezing your hand. “So it might not last forever, but no matter what happens we’ve already started...whatever this is, so why does it matter when it ends?”

You can’t really argue with that point. Your options are end it now or give it time, see how things play out. “But…Sammy,” you whisper.

“Give him time.”

The two of you drive around aimlessly for a little while longer till he pulls into the parking lot of the apartment building, glancing over at you. “You okay?

Nodding you pull your hand from his, resting it on the console as you lean across it and Vince is quick to react, bringing his hand to the side of you face to cup your cheek. His lips are gentle but eager, moving with intent but not pushing too far. And for a moment it feels like everything else has faded away, worries and stress blurring till they’re no longer visible anymore. “How do we do this?” You whisper, pulling back from Vince.

“Do what?” He asks, sitting back in his seat, body angled towards you.

“Deal with being in there, together, with Sammy.”

Vince is quiet for a moment, tapping at his steering wheel. “We’ll just figure it out when we’re in there, see what he’s like.”

Nodding slowly you open the car door, slipping out and walking towards the apartment with Vince. With every step closer you feel a growing anxiety, each and every possibility running through your mind. Would Sammy still be mad? Would he try to pick up the argument right where it ended? Would it be worse if he just decided to ignore it? Would you all need to sit down and have a conversation like an awkward family meeting nobody wants to be a part of?

When you step into the apartment after Vince you hear the sound of the TV from the living room. Slowly making your way into the living room you notice Sammy with an Xbox controller in his hand, eyes trained on the TV. “Hey,” you greet, sitting down on the couch and alternating between watching the game he was playing and glancing at Sammy.

“Hey,” Sammy mutters, finishing up his game before tossing the controller down onto the coffee table and sitting up to turn and face you. “Did running away solve everything?”

Shaking your head you pull your legs up to your chest on the couch. “Should I have stayed here and let you yell at me about fucking up your life instead?”

“I didn’t say you were fucking up my life.”

“Maybe not in those exact words,” you retort. “But you may as well have.”

Sammy sighs and leans forward, his elbows on his knees, running his hands through his hair. “I’m sorry,” he grumbles, looking over at you. “I just…fuck, I hate it so much. Like why him?” His tone is different now, lighter, easier than the last conversation.

“I mean…look at him,” you say, trying your best to to lighten the mood even more.

Sammy chuckles under his breath, shaking his head. “I guess I really should have seen it sooner,” he comments, staring down at the ground.

“What do you mean?”

Sammy looks up from the ground, eyes meeting yours. “You’re exactly his type and he’s been spending way more time just hanging around here since you got here. I’m such an idiot for not thinking this would happen. I pretty much set it up.”

You wait a few seconds in silence, processing that information. You had really just assumed Vince spent that much time at his apartment normally. You figured they were on the road a lot, when they were back in St. Louis he would just want to relax at home playing video games and watching TV. You never would have thought that you played a role In keeping him there. And you definitely wouldn’t have assumed you were exactly his type either. “So you can’t really be mad then…you said it, you set it up.”

Sammy laughs, sitting up straighter and shaking his head. “I didn’t say that either…But I’m not mad, I don’t like it…maybe that’ll change, I don’t know. But I’m not mad at you. You know I can’t stay mad at you.”

You smile softly, standing up and walking over to the couch he was on, dropping down beside him and throwing your arms around him dramatically. “Good, because I can’t handle you being mad at me,” you tell him. Pulling back you let your arms drop from around him. “So, will you come look at apartments with me tomorrow so that Vince and I can-.”

“Stop,” Sammy interrupts, pushing you away playfully. “I don’t want to hear it, you’re so gross,” he says, both of you laughing as you lean back in response to Sammy pushing you.

Out of the corner of your eye you see Vince walk into the room hesitantly and you give him a reassuring smile. “Sammy admitted he actually set us up.”

“I did not,” Sammy exclaims, laughing. “I said I pretty much did…not on purpose though.”

“Close enough…I’m going to make dinner. I don’t know how you two are going to survive when I get my own apartment,” you laugh, standing up and walking over towards Vince, grabbing his hand and pulling him with you towards the kitchen.

“You can come over and cook us dinner,” Sammy calls as you leave the living room.

Shaking your head you make it to the kitchen, only there for a second before Vince is pulling you into him, leaning down and kissing you gently. “I knew it would be okay,” Vince mumbles against your lips.

Bringing one hand to the back of his neck you press your body closer to his, confident that Sammy would be avoiding the kitchen now that you and Vince were in there alone. “No you didn’t,” you giggle. “You just said that because I was panicking.”

“Kind of,” Vince admits.

“Well I’m glad it worked out,” you whisper, sliding your hands to his shoulders. “Because if we never got around to you pinning me down like you did last night I’d be really disappointed,” you joke, looking up at Vince through your eyelashes with a mischievous smile.

Vince groans, shaking his head. “So that’s all I am to you?” Vince asks, playing along.

“Of course,” you joke. Pulling out of his grasp you begin to prepare dinner, but the absence of touch doesn’t last long, Vince stepping behind you and placing his hands on your hips. “Someone is a little needy.”

“I’m hurt after your last comment,” he laughs, wrapping his arms around your waist, watching you chop up some vegetables.

Pausing you turn your head to the side, looking up at Vince. “Fine, I like you for more than just sex,” you tell him.

“So when are you letting me take you on another date…a real one.”

“Anytime,” you tell him, glancing over at him as he stands beside you, leaning against the counter. You can’t help but get caught up in staring at him for a little too long. A few months ago you never would have imagined your trip to St. Louis would even last this long, let alone end with you moving there and falling for a boy. And of course you weren’t sure how it would end, but for the time being you were happy with the new adventure you were embarking on.

#vince dunn #vince dunn fic #vince dunn imagine #vince dunn fanfiction #vince dunn fanfic #nhl fic #nhl fanfic #nhl imagines #nhl fanfiction #nhl one shot #st louis blues imagine #st louis blues fanfic #st louis blues fanfiction #st Louis blues one shot #hockey fanfic #hockey fic #hockey one shot #Hockey Fanfiction

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simplyotometrash · 3 years

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Some Obey Me Headcanons!

Part One!!

Lucifer

Lucifer has always been the dad sibling. After each of his brothers were “born” while they were angels, he was the one to raise and teach them everything.

It’s common knowledge that Mammon is his favorite. Even if he hates to admit it. He’s hardest on Mammon because it’s the only thing he knows how to do anymore.

Despite the fact that they don’t seem to get along because of Mammon’s antics, Lucifer only ever confides some of his most pent up feelings to the second born.

The only other person he confides in this deeply is MC.

Before the fall, Belphie was his second favorite brother. Even after things have settled after Belphie was free again, he can never look at the youngest the same.

All he wants is for his brothers to be happy and live on. Even if it means working himself into the ground for their sakes.

He doesn’t ask for help. Help has to be forced upon him.

With how much he works, even at home, it’s not uncommon to find him napping with a pen in hand at his desk and his head on his paperwork.

He wishes he had done better raising Satan. He blames himself for their strained relationship, but he feels as if it is too late to truly fix it.

Sometimes he also wishes he had raised Satan as his son and not his brother, considering Satan was born from his wrath.

Children, for some reason or another, flock to him.

His control issues and needing to know everything that happens under his roof stems from the trauma of the war, the fall, and what happened with Lilith.

It’s his deepest fear that he will lose his brothers and be completely and utterly alone.

A bisexual mess of a demon. No one can convince me he doesn’t have at least a small crush on Diavolo.

Mammon

Oh the second born brother. He just wants to see everybody happy. But he always messes up and ends up making people angry instead.

He has severe impulse control issues, hence why he’s broke all the time. It isn’t that he doesn’t want to save his Grimm, I headcanon that his sin of Greed compels him to spend. It controls him and so he struggles to keep money.

But by gods does he have great luck with gambling. Get him going and he will win big every single time.

But keep that money where he can’t just grab it or else he will be compelled by his sin to buy things.

He doesn’t even want most of the things he buys. His sin took root in that empty space left from the fall and being cast out by the one he called his father.

His sin pushes him to try and fill that void with objects and money when really he just wants someone’s love.

After centuries of being called scum and a degenerate because of something he has little control over, he gave up trying and gave into just being his sin.

He cries easy but only to MC or Lucifer. He won’t show his tears to any of his other brothers. Maybe Beel sometimes. But only sometimes.

He knows Lucifer’s most precious and deepest secrets. He’s his brother’s confidant. But he doesn’t even breathe a word of these secrets to anyone else.

He tries so hard to get attention, so he does stupid shit. After falling to Devildom, his family was changed forever. So any attention is good attention even when it’s him being punished.

MC is the one who showed him positive love and attention again. It is one of many reasons he sticks to their side like fucking super glue to skin.

He’s actually a total mom-friend, though you wouldn’t guess it. You’d think he is the type to get drunk and pass out at a party? His alcohol tolerance is actually much higher than he lets on. He cleans up and takes care of people after they’ve all passed out.

Leviathan

He wasn’t nearly as anxious and against socializing before falling to Devildom. He retreated into himself out of fear of the unknown world they had all fallen into after the war.

He has an anxious attachment style. He knows it isn’t healthy. It’s rooted in the trauma that losing Lilith created.

The longer he stayed closed in on himself, the worse his anxiety got. To the point he became a recluse.

He fears getting close to someone. He feels insecure in relationships, not just in himself. He doesn’t feel like he’s good enough.

He’s had relationships in Devildom before, but the first one ended poorly and it only made things worse for how he saw himself. The demon only dated him because of who he was, and preferred his status as the Grand Admiral of Hell’s Navy. Not as who he really is.

The few relationships that came after all ended before they really could begin because his anxiety monster was screaming that he wasn’t really good enough. That they only ever pursued him for who he was in status and power.

MC’s persistence to become his friend is what made him begin to do some self-reflection.

They tried so hard to become friends with him, they put so much effort into him, and they encourage him to just be himself. If they do all of that, maybe he really is enough as he is.

He does try to step outside of his comfort zone more because MC opened his eyes to the truth of himself.

But baby steps are needed.

He taught himself how to code just so he could make games. He got bored after making one and preferred playing to creating.

He doesn’t actually hate Mammon. Their little rivalry traces back to when they were angels and still growing up, competing for Lucifer’s attention. He actually loves his brother very much, despite how irritate he gets.

His envy is its own thing. It took root within his insecurities and has a voice all its own. It used to be so loud that he couldn’t think. But the growth he’s had since MC came into his life helped quiet that voice down a lot.

He’s closest with Satan and Asmo, feeling like he doesn’t fit with his older two or youngest two brothers anymore.

Satan

He knew from day one that he wasn’t like the rest of his brothers. He was always different. Born a demon, never once an angel. He knew that they weren’t truly his brothers.

All he ever wanted was for Lucifer to be his father. Not his brother.

Lucifer once was his hero, the person he admired and respected with all his might.

As he got older, his wrath only grew with him. And his anger at Lucifer grew as well.

He wanted to find himself as separate from Lucifer. He knew where he’d come from. But everyone treated him as if he were just some offshoot of Lucifer. He wanted to be his own person. For everyone to see that. It fueled his anger and built the wall that came between them.

He’s an excellent shoulder for comfort. He often comforts Levi when he breaks down or provides reassurance to Asmo.

These three are the middle children, they stick together.

He was alive when the Library of Alexandria was burned. Even though he wasn’t supposed to go to the human realm, he saved some texts from the library and keeps them safe.

The real reason he wears his jackets the way he does is just like when you’re in bed. If it’s full on with both sleeves, he’s too hot. If he doesn’t have it on at all he’s too cold. So one arm in a sleeve and one arm not in a sleeve.

Asmo has tried and failed to give this boy fashion help. He refuses to take it. He thinks he looked like an intellectual (for the love of god please lose the black undershirt at least, Satan).

He carries cat treats and cat food in his bag at all times in case he comes across a kitty in need.

He has sneaked many cats into the House of Lamentation. Lucifer knew the entire time but let Satan have a few days before he “found out” about the cats.

His wrath has burned strong for so long, even when he was passive, that he didn’t know what it was like to feel calm. But MC’s very presence sends a wave of peace right to his very core.

Asmo

If you’re insecure and you know it clap your hands.

Levi might seem like the king of insecurity, but Asmo takes the cake.

He masks his insecurities with what people think is narcissism and over confidence. He puts on a show so nobody knows how he really sees himself.

Lust was always shoved down his throat as sexual only. So he went with it. He was supposed to be the Avatar of Lust. To be what was expected of him and to make sure he was liked, he did what he thought everyone wanted.

And it turned him into someone he never wanted to be. He didn’t know how to find himself again.

He isn’t nearly as sexual and lewd as everyone thinks. He’s touchy and clingy, yes, but touch is his love language.

When he’s hurt or doesn’t feel well, if he’s had a bad day, if he’s sad- all he wants is to be held by the person he loves and who loves him. He wants to hold hands or link arms. He wants to wrap his arms around them all the time.

But because everyone in Devildom only saw him as a sex symbol, he had to bury his truest desires. He had a persona to keep up.

While he does love to take care of himself, he used to break mirrors because he was so sick of who he had become. It took a lot of time for him to get through it.

His MC is the only one who wasn’t tainted by his power. A power that seemed to just be active all the time whether he wanted it or not.

Everyone was all over him but it wasn’t as if he could control it. His sin was always active, it attracted people.

But MC wasn’t interested or affected.

And that was what was most attractive to him.

They saw him for who he was and encouraged him to just be the true Asmo. Not the Asmo everyone wanted to see.

He is excellent at sewing. He loves making his own accessories and clothing from his own designs.

He’s ambidextrous. You think that the king of fashion only uses one hand? Darling, if he only used one hand then his homework would never get done. He write with one hands and be painting his toes with the other.

One of the few people that can get Levi out of his room to hang out. They’ve always been close. Sometimes he does that just so the others can get Levi’s laundry and dirty dishes.

He’s the most emotionally open and stable of the brothers. He’s made peace with his inner monsters and can coexist with them. He’s also surprisingly good at advice.

Can and will break into Lucifer’s study to make the eldest relax because he’s working too har.

He has bobby pins on him at all times. Not just for fashion but for lockpicking! He can be clever and beautiful!

#obey me #obey me headcanons #obey me shall we date #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me levi #obey me satan #obey me asmo

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haircoveredwriter · 3 years

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Some thoughts after watching 11x06 "On the Inside". I'll put it beneath a break because there's more than I thought to my mindless rambling.

Okay so they're going with a straight horror movie intro but skipping the usual 'we're having such a good time out here in the woods...wait, something it out here too'

Both LR and KC do a really good terrified for their lives

Also have to say Virgil really seems to have stepped up since we met him because dude can actually take out walkers now. Good job, sir. Never stop learning.

More of Leah walking around amoungst a group of people and having no real reason to be there or contribute anything to the scene. 🙄

Damn, Hondo! Stop pulling at Frost's nails! I can't rip half mine off at work without feeling like Hershel when Rick chopped his leg. Fingers and toes always make thigs worse.

Chokeholds are illegal, Daryl. Someone needs to have him watch his own earlier seasons.

The conversation beneath the conversation between Daryl and Frost is spot on and super interesting.

Daryl's like 'look...I'm going to have to chop your finger off but it's for a good reason. Gonna save your life and who knows, maybe one of these weirdos has a Govenor closet somewhere and they'll let you take it home with you.'

Plus him taking off the vest was WAY more entralling than it needed to be, but I'm a woman with eyes so don't judge me. 👀😍(Enthralling? yup, that's what we'll go with)

It's a definite sign Daryl's not all team Reapers because he's basically taking off/hiding who he really is to fit in with his crazy ex-girlfriend's new posse.

Though my science schooling is giving how little blood there is from the amputation the side eye. Guess Frost just willed his blood some place else.

Am I crazy or is the music playing while Daryl torutres Frost the same that was playing in 10x07 while Carol tortured the Whisperer? Coincedence??🤔

Evil Monopoly man seems like he enjoys playing games with his people.

If Connie looking in the mirror is not me everyday I wake-up😏

GUYS! There were medical scissors in the medicine cabinet. You know what this means??? Queen Beth is gonna rise from the dead and save Vonnie all while less half a brain. LOL.

whoever belongs to that eye in the hole needs to get checked for jaundice.

Ofc the pencil breaks when Connie TRULY needs it. Fate really has it in for her, screwing her over with one of her most trusted friends.

These Reapers have no idea do they about how to sneak up on a building without being seen. Maybe they need it to be night before their powers activate. Funny Leah is in charge when she's the least believable one there.

Daryl pretending to be a cat hiding behind a plant with that mailbox...no one can see you my friend. You're good.

Carver and Leah remind me of the evil version of Caryl and Daryl.

They obviously have something going on and/or had a thing in Daryl's abscence. All those "Always" remarks sound an awful lot like The Princess Bride's "As you wish".

Yup, Carver is uber jealous of Daryl. Leaver is setting sail ya'll.🚢

Carol strolling in to find Kelly stuck in the mud with her casual "need some help" is perfection. I actually lol'd.

AT is also SUCH and underrated and underutilized actress on this show, I need more Kelly on my screen because she needs to be protected like the sweet cinnamon role she is.

WTH is with this episode, they really out here trying to start a bunch of new ships or something? I'm down for Vonnie.

He's so into you, Connie. Who else is gonna keep talking to you knowing you can't hear them but needing to vocalize how much more important they see you to themselves.

Oh, come on...he's said her name in this ep more times than anyone has in the last season. He's trying to rival Daryl for saying Carol's name in s10.

So in case you're keeping track...we now have Vonnie and Leaver riding the crazy shipping seas.📃

Great... more posturing about who cares about Leah more.🤮 Carver you aren't getting it; Daryl's been phoning it in since Day 1, he's not a threat just wait it out and he'll audios up out of here to go find his fire queen back home.

Leah's even telling Daryl "stop pissing of my secret boyfriend okay?"

Note to everyone: a dancing phone line is the sign to run to the basement and not a sign of an overeager squirrel running across the line for his acorns.

So the jaundice family watched The Ring too many times and think this is how all the cool kids act in horror flicks. All they keep saying is 'hungry'; Connie, Virgil, someone get them a Mars bar and it'll be done.

A+ fight put up by Virgil. He's been taking some classes during the lockdowns to better himself.

The Reapers are HORRIBLE military folk. How do ya'll not see Maggie & co leaving when you have people on the perimeter for the sole purpose of finding runners?! Do not hire them. 1 star on Yelp.

Yup I'm all over Vonnie. That "together" stuff was by far the shippiest thing we've seen all season.

And their reunion hug through the walll .... guuurl.

walker guts trick again: the express version

why do I feel like they could do a mini spin off of just a little war going on between the walkers and those jaundice mo-fos? Then one of the walkers falls for a crawler girl but her family thinks he's from the wrong side of the yellow house and don't like how he thinks he's better because he's taller than all of them.

Kelly found Connie! So happy this storyline ended with the 2 people the arc was truly about; the 2 sisters finding each otherafter years of the show hating siblings.

Now can we finish with Carol's self-hatred stuff and let her heal? We know Daryl is gonna be finished with his "gotta save 'em all" issues soon so it would be fantastic if they could finally be on the same baggage free playing field. Just a thought Kang.

Overall I thought it was a good episode. Only a few things I would nitpick ie. limited Carol, cheesy music during some of the haunted house bits, and the reapers need to go back to basic training and learn some stuff and thangs.

Ofc the spoilers beforehand were blown way out of proportion though I'm not surprised. I didn't go in expecting to see what was foretold and thankfully the spirit Gods prevailed again in defeating the overreaction we go through EVERY episode.

#Caryl #twd #twd spoilers #s11x06 #episode thoughts #Vonnie is rising #Leaver is rising #I find it hilarious how every single obstacle individual supposedly in the way of Caryl is suddenly being removed #shoved into an entanglement with someone else #I see you Angela #well done

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oveliagirlhaditright · 3 years

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The Mom Friend

Yeah… though Neku had certainly never signed up to be these four’s mom—and he still had no idea how that had happened—he now knew he wouldn’t change it for the world. Oneshot. Canon compliant. Mom friend Neku. Neo spoilers.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/33385999

At first, if you had asked Neku if he had become the mom friend of the Wicked Twisters, he would have laughed in your face.

Because while he would admit he loved the youngins’—and was very protective of them—some old habits of wanting to be cool, and being somewhat rough around the edges, died hard.

But it was with Nagi that Neku finally realized that this was the case.

The girl had decided to go vegetarian, but her body was rejecting not having a lot of protein and thus needed something like nuts this very instance? Who was it but Neku, who went out to buy her some, at near three o’clock in the morning (because he was a good friend and had expanded his horizons that much), since her parents had recently died in a car crash and they could no longer do it for her, the poor girl.

So, Neku crept into Nagi’s dorm window around one-forty-five-ish—which, looking back on it, probably hadn’t been a good idea and could have scared his friend. But, hey: Neku had gotten used to being in the Game. And the week that Coco brought him back before he ran into Beat, he’d been in hiding, and had maybe gotten used to the idea some; and Nagi didn’t seem spooked, so maybe her mind was still stuck on sneaking around in the Reapers’ Game, too—and Nagi took the food out of Neku’s hands like it was the easiest thing in the world before ruffling his hair.

“Much obliged, Lord Neku,” she said as she fixed her glasses in this dim lighting, so she could see him better. Or so Neku guessed. “Now, hopefully, I can feel better enough, that I can work on my essay about the Canterbury Tales. …No one knows such suffering as me,” Nagi moaned, before going back to her bed and starting on the cashews.

“No, problem,” Neku said then—feeling sort of awkward, as he went to mess with a pair of headphones that were no longer on his person anymore—“if you need help with it… I, uhh, guess I could try and lend a hand. I have university coming up soon, too. And I know they’ll have me doing some English stuff, so…”

“Unless you want to be bored to tears, I suggest that you not make such a promise, unless your heart knows little joy,” Nagi warned him.

And Neku didn’t have to be told twice. So, he did backout of helping her with that paper.

But he knew when he visited Shiki soon—and she asked him what he’d been up to—she would still tease him about being the mom friend, for going out and buying protein for Nagi in the wee hours of the morning.

…

And it continued on like that… and Neku was somewhat loath to admit it, because hey: he had an image to uphold here.

But then again… maybe not, because if this was him pushing out his borders as far as they would go—as Mr. H had instructed him to do three years ago—Neku knew he would gladly do so… even at the risk was being called a “mom”, and even an “old maid”, or something.

Right now, Rindo had severely hurt his ankle… and who was he holding onto as they hobbled away, with designs to get him to a hospital? Neku.

“This is the last time I ever try something from the 90’s again!” Rindo complained, as Neku was half-carrying him to his car now (and how nice it was, that Neku could drive now—from memories of another him that hadn’t lost such formative years—that Joshua had implanted into his head).

“Yeah, Rindo… scooters were cool and everything—yours truly had one—but even I don’t know why you decided to try and bring them back now of all times… Especially since they had a bad habit of spinning right back around and nailing you in the ankle… which you know all too well now,”

And godamnit. Neku really had become the mom friend, huh, if he was now telling his younger friend this venture had been dangerous from the get-go, and how he could have easily seen that if he’d tried to?

Neku pulled on one of his spikes, irritated with himself here, but tried not to show Rindo, lest he think he was mad at him.

“Well, I’d thought about getting a motor scooter,” Rindo explained, Neku loading his pal into his backseat now. “So, I think that’s what got scooters on my brain… But I was trying to be green, and still think of a faster way to catch things in FanGo than walking! And now look where it got me. Oy! …But I guess I shouldn’t be complaining. This should be the least of my problems, when just a few weeks ago I was fighting for you guys’ survival, huh?”

And Rindo paused in where he’d been about to put a hand over his eyes, to peek at Neku now who was currently getting into the driver’s seat—as if he was asking for the past Living Legend to remind the new one to have his priorities straight.

“For real,” Neku told Rindo, whilst he started to pull away now. “When I got out, I was mostly thinking about the Game… about what Joshua did, and how even then, I still trusted him but couldn’t forgive him. And I was so excited to finally meet up with my friends—to finally have some and care about that—be glad, Rindo, that you got out with your friends, and there’s so much trust between you. Like there is between Josh and I now.”

And Rindo set down his phone then—apparently like he had when he first met Shoka in the RG—like he was really listening to what Neku had to say, and he had to appreciate that.

And it might have been his imagination… but Neku could have sworn he saw a flash of blue nodding his head at Neku’s words, as it sat back there with the injured Rindo.

…

The next time Neku ended up being the “mom” for someone in the Wicked Twisters, after the Game, it was with Fret.

It was towards the end of his and Rindo’s sophomore year of high school…

Fret had been ecstatic to come back to life, Neku had known, and wasn’t wasting his second chance. He had really thrown himself into his studies, Rindo had told Neku in private (quite proudly, Neku might add).

If he could keep it up, he would probably even be able to graduate early. And talent scouts were looking at him, Neku had been told: towards a kid who hadn’t strived that hard in school, but now was and excelling because of it.

Naturally, Fret had decided that his calling was fashion—everyone who had been playing the Reapers’ Game with him would have gathered just how much he loved clothes—and apparently he had really thrown himself into designing towards the end of the year, and was trying to put a portfolio together for Jupiter of the Monkey to look at: who the school was suggesting he try and intern with, as they had some connections with (and damn, if Neku didn’t wish he’d gone to Fret and Rindo’s school now, being a huge J of the M fan himself).

Part of Neku wondered why Fret just didn’t try to intern with Shiki during his senior year, but perhaps it was because he was afraid Shiki would just give him the position because they were friends and not because she really thought he was talented.

Anyway… Fret hadn’t gotten the internship. J of the M had said the Fret should try to use less color (you know what? Maybe Neku didn’t like them very much anymore…).

And since then… Fret had seemed to give up on his dream of being a fashion designer, and was trying to be an actor.

And, look: Neku had no problem if him wanting to do both, if he thought he could do it and this was really what Fret wanted… though call him crazy, but he felt like something else was at work here: something that Neku and Shiki had both experienced before.

So, Neku had sat Fret down to talk about it at Ken Doi’s—away from the filmmakers who were currently trying to film in Dogenzaka, that Fret had just been a part of—and laid it all out on the table, “It’s okay… to get Imposter Syndrome. I’ve had it before with my art. Even Shiki has before. But if you want to be an artist, you’re going to fall down a few times… Fret, I feel like you don’t want to be an actor, so much as you don’t mind people dinging your acting, because that isn’t something you care about as much as your designing.”

And after Neku had spoken, Fret somehow looked both like Neku had made him had an epiphany he hadn’t quite realized, and like Neku had stumbled upon the horrible truth he hadn’t wanted anyone to figure out.

Neku took a bite of the yummy curry that Ken Doi had been kind enough to make just for him, after he’d brought Joshua around recently (he’d said he’d missed the two of them. Go figure), and let Fret get his bearings.

And now he was sighing, and running a hand through his hair, much like Neku often did. Neku smiled, finding it hard not to sympathize.

“Oh, man. I really do have to get back into fashion, huh?”

“You do,” Neku agreed, wondering what wonderful articles of clothing Fret might come up with for him to wear in the future. Shoka, too. Really, with those two and Shiki and Eri, Neku had it made in the clothes department, and he was not complaining. “And it’ll be hard sometimes. But most things in life worth gaining are.”

And when Fret smiled back at him, Neku knew he’d made some progress here—which was good—and then he did one thing that was decidedly not mom-like, and let Fret get the bill. Why? Because Neku was a starving college student at this point, and Fret still had parents who paid for stuff for him.

…

And then the last person who needed Neku’s help (…for now, he guessed. Because apparently this was a full-time gig. And at this point, Neku wasn’t complaining because he happily would have taken custody of all the Wicked Twisters long ago if he could’ve), was Shoka.

…Who was freaking out after Rindo having tried to give her a promise ring and wasn’t at all being her usual FanGo loving self, where Rindo was concerned.

And, yeah… Shoka could be a bit of a tsundere sometimes, but Neku felt like the issue ran much deeper.

Neku also happened to see Shoka looking into the mirror a lot lately… And at first, he wondered if she’d become self-conscious like Shiki had been.

But upon hearing the arrogant comments that Shoka still said about herself—that Neku’s surrogate little sister so deserved to say, he thought—he knew that wasn’t the case.

He tried to use a bit of his soul power on her… because it turned out that Neku was strong enough to use it in the RG some, but all that really told the ginger was that it was a deep-rooted issue with Shoka and not what said issue was.

Finally, Neku knew he had to just talk to her.

“Let me in, Shoka,” he urged her—after he’d caught her looking at wedding dresses in her apartment at a group hang-out (it was just the two of them at said hang-out right now; everyone else had gone to get food for everybody). “Tell me what you’re thinking.”

And it was pretty fitting, Neku would later think, that he used Shiki’s old words to him with Shoka here, since she made him think of Shiki some—what with her favorite Mr. Mew hoodie and all. Especially when they’d been in the Game.

And at his question, Shoka sighed—like opening her thoughts to Neku was the biggest burden in the world—and dropped the magazine like it had burned her.

“What?” she demanded, fiddling with the zipper at her neck. “About Rindo? I feel like him wanting to give me a promise ring is silly—and of a time gone by—so of course I told him ‘no’, and give him a hard time about it. Not all of us can be you and Shiki, you know…”

And with that, Shoka seemed content to ignore Neku, and to go boot up her PS5 so she could play the “Stranger of Paradise” demo.

And, hey: more power to her—Neku thought it looked sick, too—but no way was he letting her get off that easily. “That’s a lie, Shoka, and we both know it. So, what’s really going on here?”

Shoka was sighing once more now—as if the weight of the world was on her shoulders. And it probably was, with this tragic girl—but she shuffled on the couch closer to Neku, which he saw as a good sign. “Fine… I guess I should have known that I couldn’t lie to Mr. Soul-Reader… I just- I feel I look too much like them: Ayano and my little sister. And I know it’s dumb, but I worry about it.

“Will I be like Ayano and settle into one thing? Like, say I get really into being Rindo’s girlfriend here… but I force myself to marry him one day, because he really wants that: what if we end up living a loveless life because of that, I didn’t want to tie the knot but forced myself to just because it was what he desired? And since I look like Little Sis… If Rindo and I do end up together, what if I end up dying young like she did and leaving Rindo alone. It’s too much.”

And here Neku had to pull Shoka into a small hug and kiss the crown of her head, whilst he ran calming hands down her arms. Shoka had been through way too much trauma for someone so young. It wasn’t fair. But even with all of that… Neku had to make sure she was sure of one thing right now.

So, he got off the couch and kneeled in front of Shoka, so she was looking into his eyes, and wouldn’t miss how serious this was. “Shoka… you definitely have a lot of baggage there, that I do think you should talk to Rindo about. And I’m so sorry that you’ve lost so much family for someone so young… but know that your family isn’t you. Their lives aren’t yours, nor are the things that they did. The things you do are going to be totally different from them, and you have to make those decisions for yourself. Got it?”

“Okay, Neku,” Shoka allowed, while she helped to pull Neku back up now. And she seemed to be blushing a little… but that was okay, because so was he. Neku may have been the mom of this little group, but big declarations of the heart like that could still be hard for him.

“Thanks!” Shoka beamed, before throwing herself at Neku to give him a quick hug this time.

And Neku laughed slightly. “No problem. Now, what do you say we get super far in this awesome demo before our friends get back, for being losers in forgetting to take us with them to get the food?”

“I think that sounds like a pretty sweet deal!” Shoka agreed, already pulling away from Neku and going for the controller.

Yeah… though Neku had certainly never signed up to be these four’s mom—and he still had no idea how that had happened—he now knew he wouldn’t change it for the world.

Especially when the rest of his children came back happy—which was always a perfect sight to see—and Shoka did end up working things out with Rindo.

It was a wonderful world, indeed.

Author’s Note: Yeah, I’m headcanoning here that the last Dive that you do (not counting Rhyme) for the little ghost from Shinjuku was Shoka’s sister.

Hope you all enjoyed!

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mbti-notes · 3 years

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Anon wrote: INFP with social anxiety here. I have a therapist but we're focusing on some other issues right now. In the meantime, I was wondering if you had some advice for me. I know you're not a professional (you say that multiple times in your posts) and of course I'm not asking you for a fix for my social anxiety with this - I'm just asking your help to understand what part my cognition could be playing in all of this cause I'm really curious.

Basically, my problem is the time frame right BEFORE I meet someone and, sometimes, immediately after. I don't really have problems socializing in the "middle", if you get what I mean; I'm easily adaptable and once I'm relaxed, once I realize no one is there to attack me, my mind starts getting ideas and I kind of know what to say, even though I'm a bit out of practice and I still have problems convincing other people of my emotions (like, mirroring their emotions so that they know I agree with them and stuff like that; for some reason they never ---believe me when I say it with words).

When I make plans, anyway, and I still haven't met the person, I get this anxiety: like I would rather stay home than go there because it's going to be "boring" and I'm probably going to feel like an idiot or make some sort of social gaffe. I mean, I do kinda get bored after a while anyway, but I also know I tend to overestimate that level of "future boredom" to the point it hurts me to even think about showing up and forcing myself to think of stuff I can-- say.

I get anxious because I start thinking about the way people used to treat me in the past (I've always been the black sheep of my family and/or my social circles and I vividly remember some bad things they used to say to me) and I start worrying that, deep down, they still think of me like that and they're never going to forget that "preconception of my identity" and open their eyes to who I am now, or I guess to who I've always been.

I do realize it doesn't make much sense, this "who I ----really am" part - but I've always had the impression that I was a bit different than the "me" they percieved, maybe because after many, many years of being accused of "selfishness" and "inability to tune in with the emotional atmosphere" I learned that in order not to ruin the "social mood" I should've adapted myself to the group - but the problems is that I suppressed "myself" in the meantime (and with myself I mean, like, my real interests, the things I'd like to talk about for ages without-- having to be interrupted or looked down on because, quote unquote, "ok, cool, but we don't really care").

I understand now that if they don't give me hints of actually caring about the subject I should stop rambling like a fool, but this is making me feel like I have nothing "useful" to offer them and therefore bringing the anxiety I'm struggling with. It makes me scared that I'll never be able to be myself around them because of the "social rules" I want to respect to be accepted, & to make----it worse I'm out of practice like I said before and sometimes it just gets too awkward and I want to get out of there.

I bet I'm doing something wrong because friendships and relationships in general are not supposed to be "boring", am I right? And yet until I don't get distracted by the actual conversation, I feel like it's going to be really boring and uncomfortable and sometimes going through it is SO horrible... most of the time I end up making up some excuse to go home earlier and talk----my internet friends instead (thank God for the internet!!!!). Anyway, thank you if you'll answer! And have a good summer vacation c:

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The first thing I notice is that your thought process bears a very striking resemblance to many INFJs who struggle with social anxiety due to poor Fe development (see past posts). As a general rule, if I have good reason to suspect that someone might be mistyped, I won't provide info about function development until they undergo a proper type assessment. Otherwise, they might adopt the wrong method of improvement.

You say you want to understand what part your cognition plays in the social anxiety you experience, so I will mention the aspects of your cognition that seem most significant:

1) No Chill: You overthink things to an extreme, to the point of self-sabotage, perhaps even creating a self-fulfilling prophecy (i.e. when expecting the negative actually makes the negative happen). Overthinking means that you're not confronting the real obstacle getting in the way of your socializing. You're constantly trying to envision, imagine, or predict what will happen in a social interaction? WHY? What's the point of that overthinking? It's how you avoid confronting your fear head on.

2) Insecure: Your "predictions" are too often faulty because of being tainted by your underlying insecurities. You're insecure about being attacked, being accused, being misjudged, doing something wrong, being deemed of no value or unworthy of care, not being accepted or acceptable, dying of awkwardness, feeling bored, feeling uncomfortable, and on and on. You've described your thought process in detail. But nowhere do I see you confronting your insecurities, digging deeper into them, in order to understand the root of them. Insecurities are a manifestation of fear.

3) Control: Irrational anxiety is oftentimes about trying to control things that you shouldn't be trying to control or cannot have any control over - it wastes mental energy and leads to futile behavior. As long as you're trying to control social situations and their outcome, you are either trying too hard to make reality match up with your expectations or you're fumbling whenever reality unfolds outside of your expectations - you become rigid and frail. You claim to be "adaptable" but everything you say after that only proves you don't know the meaning of the word. You can't handle unpredictability, hence, the attempt to be in control by trying to "predict" everything. Do your attempts to control actually work? Do they help or hinder you? If they mostly hinder you, then isn't it time to change your strategy? Anxious people often believe that having more knowledge or control is the answer to their fear. But, in your case, the huge cost of being controlling is being incompetent. What's worse, the fear is still right there running the show.

4) Unresolved Trauma: You attribute your troubles to your past. Fair enough. Growing up in a social environment that did not respect and appreciate you is painful, even extremely traumatic for certain personality types. It also makes people too hungry for validation. It's natural that you wouldn't want to feel the pain of it again. However, if that pain remains unexamined and unresolved, you will unconsciously keep seeking to resolve it, which means re-enacting the trauma over and over again throughout life. The proof? Every time you meet someone, your first stance is defensive, because the first thing that comes into your mind is that you don't want to be attacked or invalidated. That old pain is running the whole show because you are deeply afraid of experiencing it again, yet you don't realize that YOU are the one calling it back up and rehashing it. What are you doing to resolve the pain rather than indulge the fear?

5) Self-absorbed: Social anxiety makes people too absorbed in their own thoughts, feelings, hopes, and expectations. They are too preoccupied with what they want, what will happen, how they will be perceived, how they might make a mistake, how they might be attacked, etc. This means they're not truly present with people, so the relationship can't really go far. Driven by fear and insecurity, they are always behind a wall, too difficult to reach.

Even if you happen to meet the right people, do you make it easy for them to befriend you? It seems that you can't open up with ease, you can't go with the flow of the other person when they don't live up to your expectations, you can't keep your emotions in check and misjudge situations, you get bored when it's not about you, you run away instead of making things better. Looking at yourself objectively from the outside, would you want to be friends with someone like that?

If you want to have good friends, you first have to BE a good friend. You want care, love, and validation? We all do. The best way to receive it is to be the first to give it. By being more aware of other people's needs and doing more to show that you care about them, you put them in a better position to care about you and meet your needs in return. This is the difference between actively trying to "make" a friend vs passively wishing for a friend to drop into your lap.

Being a friend isn't about what "value" you have, as though you're some kind of object being appraised and sold. Being a good friend is quite a simple matter of putting out the energy to care and show that you care. When you meet someone who's moved by your care, they will care for you in return. When you meet someone who's unmoved by your care, figure out the real reason why, in order to determine whether you should keep trying or put your energy elsewhere.

You never really know who you'll hit it off with. One of my favorite experiences in life is making a friend in the unlikeliest of places. As an adult, meeting new people is a numbers game. All you can do is keep pushing yourself to meet new people. The more people you meet, the greater the odds of clicking with someone. If you're looking to meet like-minded people, go to places that are likely to have people who share your interests. If you don't hit it off with someone, simply move along. You don't have to be friends with everyone, do you?

Yet, you take every little social interaction so seriously that each step is like life or death - that's what makes socializing tiring, laborious, and unfun. Why not enter into every social interaction with an open mind and an open heart? Why not truly go with the flow, without having to undergo the repetitive ritual of predicting what will happen or fussing over what did happen?

6) Poor Emotional Intelligence: This point is the common thread that runs through the previous points, which is why I keep repeating the word "fear". You have extremely low tolerance for negative feelings and emotions, which means you really need to work on learning how to deal with your emotional life better. Any little sign that things won't turn out the way you want and you start to panic, overthink, blame, or flee. Why do you recoil from yourself and your own feelings and emotions? Why are you so easily shaken by boredom, awkwardness, invalidation, failing, other people's negativity, etc? Why do you react so badly to these things (when others just brush it off and keep going)?

7) Low Self-Awareness: It's not enough to just name the fear ("I'm afraid of____"). Does the label explain why you have this particular fear and not some other fear? It's not enough to blame the past ("It's because of ____"). Why did someone else with a similar past as yours not develop this fear? To get to the root of fear, you have to identify, in exact terms:

what aspect of you has to change to overcome the fear

what aspect of your identity has to "die" (i.e. be let go of) in order to evaporate the fear

Until you answer the fear properly, it won't go away.

#social anxiety #anxiety #fear #emotional intelligence #mental health #ask

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rallamajoop · 3 years

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The Witcher: The Games vs The Books

Coming to the fandom this late, I can only assume the relationship between the Witcher games and the original novels has been long since talked to death by others. But I'm far too fascinated by the whole glorious mess that is this canon not to want to get down some of my own thoughts about how it all fits together.

See, on the one hand, the games (Witcher 3 especially) are arguably only too dependent on the novels to stand alone. They do a wonderful job of picking up a number of unresolved plot points the books left hanging, and a woeful job of explaining so much a player coming in cold would really like to know – Ciri's history with Geralt, Yennefer, her powers and the Wild Hunt itself just to begin with. This is an issue that only increases as the games go along: cliche as Geralt's amnesia may be, it's used to good effect to introduce the world to the player in the first game. By the third, Geralt has all his old memories back and two extra games worth of new experience, and good lord is it all alienating to the newcomer.

On the other hand, so much about the games (again, the third especially) contradicts the novels in painfully irreconcilable ways. That wouldn't necessarily bother me – adaptations are allowed to rework and reinvent, stories can and should evolve in the retelling – except, well, see point one above. So you're bound to come out of the games with a lot of unanswered questions if you haven't read the books, and just as many if you have.

Spoilers to follow, of course, for both the books and the games.

Here's one of the big ones: just how did the world – Ciri included – discover that one of her long-presumed-dead parents was actually alive and well and now ruling the entire empire of Nilfgaard? Fucked if I know. Neither the games or the novels have any explanation. In the novels, in fact, the world at large believes Ciri is married to the emperor of Nilfgaard. Naturally, this 'Cirilla' is a fake, but the scandal were the full truth ever revealed would redefine Emhyr's reign. Yet somehow, in the games, everyone seems to know he's Ciri's father, and that whole awkward incest angle is never mentioned. Continuity has been tweaked pretty significantly, and it's left to the player to guess how. If that wasn’t bad enough, the games apparently still included a Gwent card of the fake!Cirilla (artwork above) just to ensure maximum confusion.

Before I get too sidetracked with all that stuff that doesn’t add up though, there really is a lot to be said for what does work about how the games expand on the plot of the novels. The Wild Hunt itself is the big one. The spectral cavalcade appears several times through the novels and hunts Ciri across multiple worlds in the final book before apparently losing her trail and vanishing to make way for the 'real' big bad, never to be mentioned again. While TW3 left me pretty underwhelmed by the revelation that the spectral Wild Hunt were just a bunch of dark elves in skull armor, the books had introduced the Hunt and let us spend some time on the dark elves' world before we get the reveal that the two may be one and the same. So for all the ranting I could do about missed opportunities regarding the Wild Hunt, they're the natural candidate for the games to pick up on as their new big-bads.

To my surprise, Geralt and Yennefer's "deaths" and subsequent recovery in pseudo-Avalon also comes straight from the novels. That everyone thinks Geralt dead at the start of the first game isn't, as I'd first assumed, a convenient excuse to have him reappear with amnesia, but simply how the novels end. Why Ciri leaves them and goes world-hopping isn't clear, but "because the Wild Hunt was after her again" is as good a theory as any. So, another point to the games there.

And there's so much more. The Catriona plague has only just appeared at the end of the novels, but we know it's posed for a major outbreak – one that’s in progress by the time of the games. The second game in particular does a terrific job of taking the ambitions of the expansionist Nilfgaardian Empire and the still-relatively-new Lodge of Sorceresses and building an entirely new conflict around them – even taking two of the least developed members of the Lodge (Sabrina Glevissig and Síle de Tansarville) and expanding them into major players. Dijkstra similarly ends the novels on the run from those in power, and having already taken the same assumed name 'Sigi Reuven' he's using in the games – while the books assure us that prince Radovid will grow up to pay back his father's assassins (ie. Phillipa) and become Radovid the Stern.

The twisted fairy tale origins of the novels are something the games actually seem to have gotten better at as they went on: the 'trail of treats' to the Crones is the great example, the monster-frog-prince and the land-of-a-thousand-fables of the expansions are two more, and many more are hidden in sidequests. And I'd be remiss not to mention that in again asking Geralt to pick a side in the conflict with the Scoia'tael, the first two games not only recreate a scenario Geralt repeatedly deals with in the books, but a major theme. It's interesting too how much the broad structure of the third game feels like an homage to the books, with Geralt searching for Ciri, interspersed with sections from her POV. You can nitpick the detail of any of these examples, but the intent is unmistakable, and a lot of credit is due for it in the execution too.

Some of the detail that's gone into translating the world of the Witcher books into the games is just insane – not just in the geography and history of the place, but right down to the names of the wine you can pick up. There's the fact the Cat potion makes Geralt see in black-and-white, or the fact the basilisk and cockatrice monsters are clearly based on the same model, but the basilisk is reptilian where as the cockatrice is more avian – which is exactly how Geralt describes the difference between them in The Lady of the Lake. There's a point where Book!Regis recounts a detailed list of all the lesser vampiric species, ending with the only two violent enough to tear apart their victims: almost all can be encountered in the games, and the last two (Fleders and Ekimma) are indeed the most animalistic. This kind of thing is everywhere.

My favourite examples tend to be those that blend into the background if you haven't read the books, but will get a grin from those who have, such as a peasant in Velen who will call out to Geralt (paraphrased from memory, alas) "Sir, sir! We be up to our ears in mamunes, imps, kobolds, hags, flying drakes... oh, and bats!" – which is a lovely little reference to a couple of conversations from Edge of the World wherein Geralt explains that most of the monsters the locals want him to take care of don't actually exist. Or all those soldiers chanting "Long live King Radovid!" – natural enough, but it takes on a whole new life if you've read the passage in Lady of the Lake where the young prince Radovid grumbles internally about having to sit and listen to the city chanting 'long live...' to every other notable figure present except him.

Really, it would be faster to list the things the games introduced that don't come from the original source material in any obvious form, because it's a struggle to come up with very many. The villainous Crones of Crookback Bog and Master Mirror of the Hearts of Stone expansion are the biggest ones that come to mind, along with a great deal of the vampire mythology from Blood and Wine. To the witchers themselves, they’ve added mostly game mechanics: the use of bombs and blade oils, the names of most of the potions, and three new witcher schools (all with their own specialised gear). There are a number of new creatures and monsters – Godlings, noon-and-night-wraiths, botchlings, shaelmaars and so on – and though trolls are mentioned in the books, the games take credit for giving them so much character. Obviously, there are new characters, like Thaller and Roche – but not technically Iorveth, because a Scoia'tael commander of that name is mentioned in the books, if only in passing. And already, short of just listing off every new character the games introduced, I’m running out of ideas. Credit where credit’s due on that front: most of the new characters and locations they’ve created feel authentic enough that Kalkstein or Thaller would be right at home in the novels’ world.

But for all their dedication to the detail, it's hard to feel like the games have really managed to capture the spirit of the books in their storytelling: the mundanely corrupt bureaucracy that does so much to bring the world to life, or their cheerfully cynical sense of humour, or the flamboyant wonder that is book!Dandelion, or their enthusiasm for putting women in positions of power, or the bigger themes about the differences between the story that gets sung by the bards and what really happened – or so much else from the novels that came as such a surprise to me when I started getting really sucked in.

And if we’re going to talk about all the little things they got right, it’s only fair to point out there are just as many little things they got wrong, and sometimes pretty glaringly at that. "I thought you bowed to no-one" says Emhyr to Geralt – almost as if book!Geralt doesn’t happily bow in most every situation where it would be polite or diplomatic to do so. "This would never have happened if the council was still around!" says Geralt upon finding a sorcerer's lab full of human experiments – as if none of his experiences with Vilgefortz or the wizards of Rissberg ever happened, back when the council was very much still around. In TW2, he mocks the idea of a woman like Saskia leading a rebellion – almost as if women like Falka and Aelirenn haven't led some of the most storied rebellions in history (and we can't even blame the amnesia, because Geralt himself mentions Aelirenn later – oh yeah, this one annoyed me particularly).

Book!verse 'Lady of the Lake' is basically just Ciri being surprised while bathing

Yennefer's studious aethiesm and willingness to desecrate Freya's temple is entirely in character – but only if we forget that she had her own personal religious experience with the goddess Freya herself in Tower of the Swallow. And then there’s the fact the Lady of the Lake is now a literal lake nymph who distributes swords to the worthy, as if no-one writing for the games ever got past the title of that particular Witcher novel (let alone got the joke). And the list goes on. It's easy to get overly caught up in contradictions like this – it's hardly as if Sapkowski's novels don't contradict themselves in places, as almost any long-running series eventually will – but it's going to stick out to those who’ve read the novels nonetheless.

While we're talking about how the games pick up where the books left off though, the big contradiction that has to be touched on comes in bringing Geralt back at all, at least in any public capacity. There's plenty to suggest that Geralt survives the novels' end and even goes on to have further adventures, but it's also pretty explicit that the history books record his death in the Pogrom of Rivia as final. The last two novels by order of publication (Season of Storms and Lady of the Lake) go so far as to feature characters far in the future with an interest in Geralt's legacy, and they discuss the matter in some depth. As far as the world knows, Geralt is dead.

Book!Geralt fanart by Diana Novich

But it's hard to blame the games for ignoring this – true, thanks to Geralt's longevity, they could have set their conflict many more years after those future scenes – maybe even used Ciri's established time-travel powers to let you pop quietly in and out of the past (and, okay, now I've thought through all that, I'm kind of sad they didn't). But there comes a point where that kind of slavish devotion to preserving the source material really doesn't do a story any favours, and I'm not sure I could name any other successful adaptation that's bothered.

Besides bringing Geralt back at all, most of the bigger changes pertain to Ciri. In fact, as much as I'm about to get deep into the nitpicks below, you can make a surprisingly good case that the games have made only one really big change, and that's in simplifying the prophesies surrounding her. See, in the novels, all those world-saving prophesies aren't technically about Ciri, they're about her as-yet-unborn child. Who gets to impregnate her is the big driving force behind most of the villains of the books – one that all the main contenders seem to see as more of an awkward necessity rather than the inspiration for violent lust, but even so. To Emhyr, having to marry his own daughter is a bug, not a feature – but he's willing to do it to become the father of the savior of the world. But if Ciri is capable of fulfilling those prophesies herself, then Emhyr is already the father of the savoir of the world, and the revisions to his relationship with Ciri start to make a lot more sense.

Ciri's history with the Aen Elle elves seems to have been similarly revised – if not quite so cleanly. Avallac’h and Eredin are, naturally, both book characters – in fact, a lot of personality has been left behind in the books, since Avallac’h originally had a rather camp flair, and Eredin is less the power-hungry kingslayer you might imagine. When Geralt meets Avallac’h in the books – which happens briefly in Toussaint, for one of those "everything you're doing is going to make everything worse because prophesy" conversations – he's busy decorating a cave with fake prehistoric paintings in the hope of confusing future explorers. (Surprisingly, there does seem to be official art of this moment on one of the gwent cards – see above – though the Avallac’h who jokes about adding erect phalluses to the picture and admits his vanity won’t allow him to resist signing it hasn’t entirely survived the transition to the new medium).

We also meet the former Alder King, Auberon, whose death we see in flashback in the game. (Fun fact: Auberon is actually blowing bubbles through a straw in a bowl of soapy water when we first meet him in the books, hence the straw in the illustration below. The books just have more whimsy than any of the games would know what to do with.)

Ciri spends some time in the final book as a prisoner on the world of the elves, who are as keen as everyone else for their king to father her unborn child. Avallac’h eventually convinces her that this is all for the greater good: her child will be able to open gates to allow the people of her world to escape when the apocalyptic White Frost arrives. But their king, like most older elves, is impotent, leading to multiple nights where Ciri allows him to take her to bed (in some of the frankly more disturbing scenes of the series) to no result. Eredin, moreover, doesn't appear to have intended to poison the king: the vial that kills him was supposed to contain some sort of fantasy viagra, and even Eredin seems genuinely shocked to learn its actual effects.

Regardless, Ciri eventually discovers that Avallac’h and the Aen Elle have deceived her, and intend to user her child's powers to invade her world, not save it. Neither world is threatened by the White Frost for at least several millennia, it's just a pretext to make her cooperate. And so she flees, and Eredin (already leading his Red Riders aka The Wild Hunt long before he was crowned king) pursues her.

With the books as context, why Ciri would ever trust Avallac’h is very hard to understand. It's a little easier if that whole awful episode with her and the former king is subtracted out – Ciri's child is no longer necessary for Eredin's goals. So it's odd that the game still references the deadly vial Eredin gave to the king. Are we to suppose the vial genuinely contained poison in this version of continuity? I'd rather it didn't – Avallach's ruse is far more interesting if he underwhelms Eredin's support by revealing a half-truth – but the games aren't telling us.

And then we have to factor in that one last detail I'd forgotten when I originally started playing with this theory: TW3 does contain one last, dangling reference to the time the old king spent trying to impregnate Ciri, when Ge'els very reasonably asks why on earth Ciri would ever trust Avallac’h now. It's a damn good question, and the game offers no real answers. So in Avallac’h, we're left with a character who is vital to the final chapters of the games, who comes out of nowhere without the books as context, but whose role makes no sense with that backstory in mind. Frankly, the writers would have been much better off avoiding the whole mess altogether and inventing some new character to take Avallac’h's place.

The treatment of the White Frost is even more confusing. The books are ultimately fairly explicit about just what the White Frost is: a ice age, most likely caused by the same mundane climactic factors that produced the real ice ages of our history. The only escape is intergalactic emigration, as Ciri (or her children) might some day enable.

In the games, the White Frost has instead become some sort of nebulous, free-floating apocalypse which will eventually reach all worlds, which is basically fine – up to a point. We briefly visit a dead world that the Frost has decimated, and even the Aen Elle are now supposedly planning to invade Ciri's world because it threatens theirs as well (I mean, apparently – their motivations are so underdeveloped you could miss them by accidently skipping just one or two lines of dialogue). When the Wild Hunt appears, it's always in a haze of cold. Their mages can invoke its power still more dramatically through portals which can freeze you in your tracks. So obviously, the Frost has already reached their world, and time is running out, right?

Well, no – you visit their world too (again, briefly – to meet a character who has never been mentioned before and won't be again, for reasons which have also never been mentioned before if you haven't read the books) – and there's no Frost in sight, apocalyptic or otherwise.

So why does the White Frost follow the Hunt around? No idea. It's never explained.

At the very end of the game, a second "Conjunction of the Spheres" occurs (possibly because of the Wild Hunt's appearance?), and the Frost begins to invade (or possibly Avallac’h summons it, so Ciri can go into it and destroy it?) It's all painfully unclear. The game is too busy pulling a bait-and-switch over whether Avallac’h's betrayed you to tell you what's actually going on instead.

But if Ciri could destroy the Frost completely (at great personal risk, but still) why is this not more clearly set up? Why did the Aen Elle think that escaping to another world (which will ALSO eventually be destroyed by the Frost) was a better solution than sending Ciri to face the Frost directly? For which matter, why do the Aen Elle need Ciri at all if sending enough ships to carry an army is no problem? Why does Ciri spend so much of the game questioning Avallac’h's true intentions, if they were ultimately so noble? When did he tell her the truth? If Avallac’h did summon the Frost, why did he pick that particular moment? And if he didn't, and it all just happened spontaneously, we're back to questioning why invading that world ever seemed like a good solution to Eredin – it all collapses in on itself.

None of these questions couldn't have been answered with a little creativity, but then the game would've had to dedicate some real time to explaining its backstory and developing its core conflict – something it's bizarrely reluctant to do. And if you think I may be drifting from the point a bit in the name of getting all my gripes about the ending down in one place, you're not wrong, but I feel Avallac’h and everything surrounding him is pretty much the ur-example of what doesn't work about the way The Witcher 3 depends on the novels: the backstory the writers are building on doesn't actually exist in any format available to the rest of us.

There are plenty of ways TW3 could have incorporated its backstory into its own narrative (yes, even excluding the method "by expecting people to read many many more pages of text from in-game documents", because that's bullshit and always will be). There are times it does this brilliantly, such as in the quest ‘The Last Wish’: everything you really need to know is covered in Yennefer and Geralt's conversation in the boat, and without ever making the dialogue sound unnatural. In fact, TW3 has even more options here than many works with the same problem, because Geralt is famous and people already think they know his story. You could have bards singing Dandelion's ballads, you could have characters confronting him with misunderstandings about his past to force him to correct them. You could also have Geralt visiting people and places he knows Ciri remembers fondly because of the time they spent there together, or include playable flashbacks similar to the time you spend playing as Ciri. You could stick chunks of backstory in optional sidequests or scenes old-school fans can skip through quickly. So many of my questions (how did Ciri get so close to Yennefer if they were never at Kaer Morhen together? Why has no-one tried training Ciri in her powers before? What does the Wild Hunt even do while it's not hunting Ciri? Why is Ciri princess of Cintra if her father is Emperor of another country altogether?) could have been answered so easily.

Seriously, summarising the Witcher books is not that hard. Lots of things happen, but only a fraction of it is really relevant in retrospect, and you could hit all the major plot beats in a handful of paragraphs. (Heck, I’d do it here if this post wasn’t already ridiculously over long.)

But then, TW3 has a bizarre problem with leaving so much of its best material off screen, even from its own story. It's criminal that we never get to see any of Geralt's time (or Yennefer's) with the Wild Hunt, even in flashback or dream sequence. This is material that directly sets up the relationship between the main hero and the main villain, and the most we ever hear about it is a few vague allusions to it being like a strange nightmare. Really? That's it? What was it like? Was Geralt in a trance, unable to control his own actions – was he brainwashed into believing he belonged there, or was he merely unable to escape? What atrocities might Eredin have forced him to commit? Did he visit other worlds? Was he paraded among the Aen Elle as a captive? There is no way this isn’t a part of the story worth talking about!

We never see the moment Ciri rescues Geralt from the Wild Hunt. We never see how Avallac’h convinces her to trust him, we never see the moment he was cursed, or any of her efforts to save him – all these big, story-defining moments are left off-screen, to be vaguely recounted to you later in dialogue. Then there's the entire political situation in Nilfgaard – you hear about it second-hand, and it's all resolved off screen. And the list goes on. Yet you and Ciri still have time to run around Novigrad so she can thank a bunch of throwaway characters you've never even heard of before, nor will again. The priorities on display here are baffling.

The Witcher 3 was such a wildly successful game that it’s obvious these sorts of issues didn’t seriously hold it back, and it’s such a big game that I could have sat down and written just as many words focusing only on the parts that do work without much difficulty. It boasts stunning visuals, addictive gameplay and some truly wonderful characters, and so many parts of the story work brilliantly in isolation that it’s strange to come out of it feeling that it ultimately adds up to so much less than the sum of its parts.

I’m glad TW3 exists – if it hadn’t been such a runaway success I doubt I’d ever have discovered Sapkowski’s universe at all, but for myself, TW3 will probably always be remembered as a somewhat-overlong introduction to the really good stuff, in the expansions and the original novels it came from. I looked up the novels after finishing TW3 in large part because I’d been left with so many unanswered questions – and I’m glad I did, but I’m honestly surprised more people weren’t turned off by TW3′s scattershot approach to its own narrative. You’re allowed to change and rework in moving to a new medium, but I can’t imagine it would’ve hurt games’ success to tell a complete story in the process.

#The Witcher #Witcher Novels #The Wild Hunt #Geralt #Ciri #Emyhr #Avallac'h #Eredin #meta #long post is long

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blake-belladonna-defence-force · 3 years

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It's the ✨annoying little shit✨ again

The Gremlin anon😺

So, yesterday night me and my roommate talked a bit about my past, and disclaimer, It's about fisical and emotional abuse, if anyone is not confortable with this topics don't read the text marked in Red

I was in an abusive relationship when I was 13 and guess what, it was also my first ever relationship and was also how I discuverd that I was lesbian and Demi. The person I was with abused me mostly fisicaly and I don't remember much about it either, and at the time I was having a lot of troble at home cause my mom had to go to another city to work while my dad was gettinhg more and more drunk and stoped caring about me (my mom didn't know about this) and my grandparents took the upotunity to take me to their home and started manipulating me to hate my mom and stay with them (they always did that since I was little but at this expecific time it was worse). All this while I tried to take care of my drunk father that was almost dying of liver problems that the alcool caused, being in an abusive relationship and discovering that my best friend, that I knew and was best friends with since primary school, was homophobic and started bullying me a lot and saying a lot of shit about me and because of that I lost all the fdiends I had at the and got trully alone. After my mother found out she immddiatly took me out of it and got me into the city she was working in, and since she was there alone she was in a small house and needed to stay in the same room and since I moved there in the middle of the year I got to the only school that had place for me, and guess what, it a terrible school, full of drug dealers, crazy gangs, and all that stuff, so the silent and unspoken rule there was "Do not show weakness at any costs", that meant I couldn't show any human emotion and that I couldn't get any atention to myself. During those years I tried helping my mom with her depression and because of school I got stronger fisically cause I was always envolved in fights and got used to knocking out guys twice my sise to gain respect there, it worked but I also ended up developing a bit of anger issues, but thanks to my mom and the best friend I found in that school, that is still friends with me till this day, convinced me and helped me get to a psycologist, and it helped. Afer all that and getting my life together again I got into another relationship that, guess what, was also abusive and was mostly emotional abuse. It was bad at the point that I was scared to look at myself in the mirror cause I thought I would be the one killing myself and the only person that could protect me from me was my former partner. I was able to save some money because my best friend, and only friend, helped me and that's how I got to live with my roommate as I am now, and if it wasn't for my best friend and my roommate I wouldn't be here now, healed and finally ok, telling you this.

ok... I feel so free right now... You have no idea how much I needed to take this out of my chest... I wanna cry of happiness that it's all over and I'm finally out of that and healed enought to finally be able to talk about this freelly, Im so happy you have no idea, Im gonna cry of happiness ;w;

Ok, so, my roommate knows about all this cause when I moved in with them I had an emotional breakdown and ended uo telling them everything so... Yeah... Oops

I'm gonna put my actual update about what happened yesterday night (and also this morning) in another ask cause this one just got too heavy to put my gay panics in😅

Sooo... I'll update for real soon :D

Have a nice day/afternoon/evening/night :$

- Free Gremlin anon

Aw. Gremlin anon... I don’t know whether it means much but I am so sorry that you went through all of that and I’m so glad to hear that you’re free.

I hope you know that you deserve to have a partner that respects you and cares for you, without any mind games. You deserve to feel safe and loved, mate.

#tw abuse #tw emotional abuse #tw physical abuse

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finalfantasy7 · 3 years

Text

Letting go

Despite all the crying, all the pain, all the disappointment that came from that little bookstore, I’m still scared of letting it go. Honest to god afraid of allowing it to become a distant memory where I can barely make out most of the details.

Little did I know going in I would barely register as a real job, strictly viewing it as a seasonal gig, only to leave it with bleeding heart strings.

I remember how at first I didn’t allow myself to see it as a long term gig, not after only staying as a seasonal at a previous location (a decision that admittedly ended up being a strike against my confidence). And yet, as the holiday season came closer to ending, the more anxious I became about being kept on passed the holiday season. It only became worse as I started to bond with the team there. Everyone and everything seemed to click. I very quickly found myself in a new “comfort zone” and much like love, it’s beautiful to experience and even scarier to lose.

What I failed to realize until now, was I had personally laid down the structure of the home I now associate with that environment. Yes, my colleagues were each as warm as they were individuals; each carrying a back full of personalized arrows and hearts full of dreams and fears alike. But looking back, so many of them highlighted how their kindness was not cheap and for some, certainly wasn’t free.

I now understand what [redacted] means when she says I seem to be the “glue” between people. A substance whose sole purpose is to hold things together and tightly at that. That being said, there are few cases of universal glue. No, in fact there’s specific types of glue for specific materials. I am nowhere near being a universal glue but I seem to be a decent brand for people…or at least those who can afford to be a bit vulnerable and honest.

To this day I will rave about my former coworkers, even more so about the ones I still keep in contact with today. But I’m now starting to see that the bookstore was home to me for a bit BECAUSE I made it home. I could have come in day in and day out and never looked back but I didn’t, at the time it almost felt like I couldn’t. How could I? When a small, insecure being was being suddenly labeled with tags and titles they had never heard before.

I wasn’t “[dead name]” when I stepped through those blue doors but “Finn Acosta”. Nor longer was I this lost entity, a ball of failure, fears and anxieties. No, I was now “Finn”; an attractive, fashionable leader who always seemed to “really see” people for who they were. But even at the time these words read hollow, not because I didn’t believe the genuine sentiment behind them but simply because I didn’t see that person looking back at me in the mirror. They unfortunately went from compliments to a heavy mask I felt I needed to wear, to proudly carry and maintain lest I seek to disappoint everyone.

There was a time period when “life was good” at work. I had recently been hired and I was hungry. You wanted to teach me how to make a table? Let’s do it. Need help with overnight inventory? Something I’ve never done before? I’m game. Wanna teach me how to rearrange every decorative piece on a table? Can’t wait. I suppose this time period could accurately be labeled as “Finn was bubbly” here or at least that’s how one manager described it when discussing how much I had changed by the end of my bookstore career. Managers seem to like this time period as much as I did. I used to think I was happy here and I suppose I was and yet, looking back it all seems so Illusionary? Perhaps our image of happiness changes more throughout our lives than we’d like to admit. But here I was in a relationship which I believed at the time was perfect, was in a workplace I believed was perfect and was starting to carry a new outlook of myself I had, you guessed it, deemed as perfect.

I sometimes wonder if I had the opportunity would I go back in time and warn that version of myself about the storm that was starting to brew? No, I don’t think I would. Even with the knowledge I have now, nothing could have prepared me for what was about to unfold, not really. Plus, who am I to rip off those rose coloured glasses off my past self- she was genuinely as happy as she could have been. I feel weirdly maternal towards that person. I know they were doing their best….unfortunately their best would soon be crushed by reality, more specifically, the flaws and beauty of what it means to be human.

Now going into my second year of psyche I can confidently say reading about humans and experiencing them are very different. To read about projection and have it’s description neatly grouped in small bullet points is very different from someone angrily shutting down your greeting because they’re having a bad day. I experienced a lot of projection at work and equally threw in my own.

It’s fascinating to think I experienced both appreciation and questioning of personality all at once in the same environment. I would be commended on how understanding I could be but equally questioned on how I couldn’t view things as more black and white the same people. How could you see only grays, is what I’d heard in my mind. Where was the fire? Where was the anger? Did it mean I didn’t care? Perhaps I simply didn’t give enough thought to these topics? But that wasn’t the case at all. For months on end I would ruminate about work; everything from issues of health and safety, union processing, to the well being of my coworkers.

This was my pack and I needed to care for it as best as I could…so I did. Someone didn’t feel comfortable addressing concerns to management? I’d do it for them. Let me check in with everyone I saw to see how they were. You look tired, allow me to buy you a coffee. Let me send out feedback forms to see what people need. Remember, each and everyone one of you matters and deserves nothing but care. Oh wait, management is also made up of human beings so I should also extend all this to them. Let me do this, let me do that, I will do this, I will do that. Eventually I became a husk of the person I started off at the beginning of the year. I felt bitter and broken. To put it frankly, I was exhausted.

I’ve never broken down so much in a place of work. I would sit in the corner of the washroom and cry (not too much so we couldn’t stop but enough to get a good sob out). No one ever knew. I know because I’ve now highlighted this to a few former coworkers and they each wear the same look of surprise, sadness and empathy. But why the tears? It was just a part time job and it was…until it wasn’t. Somewhere along the way this part time job truly became something else. I went from clocking in and out, to bringing every person who worked with me home. I packed up their fears in a precious bag and wore it around, how couldn’t I? They were afraid and I was used to carrying around people’s emotions with me. I was even better at wearing a bright toothy smile that hid my own emotions.

At some point I stopped being a CER and started to be..well..I suppose glue. But remember what I said earlier about different types of glue for different materials? Well, you see- management wasn’t particularly fond of the type of glue I was, at least a majority of them didn’t seem to be. You see in the eyes of my leaders, I WAS someone who was just clocking in and out and they weren’t happy with this. You see, the company preferred the type of glue that bonded workers and the company’s “vision”. Workers that were so bonded with that vision that it became almost indistinguishable of where the person started and the sales pitch ended. They wanted you to take work home with you, just not in the way I did. Ironically, because of this I was rated as a low performer; because I didn’t care enough, when all of my peers were telling me the opposite.

But there it was, the other shoe had finally fallen and little Finn isn’t as sturdy as they seem. No, in fact, I remember running out of the performance review in tears, rushing past my coworkers as I digested being told I was a failure (another notch to add to the belt). It’s true when they say, sometimes it’s not the information itself but how it’s delivered. I felt ganged up in the review; mine being the only that required the GM to be present (more like be the one who conducted it but I digress). My mind had completely shut down as my superiors watched me shrink into myself, using the little energy I had to not break down and cry. The surrealism of them joking around about not being able to find a seat in the mall to conduct the review as my mind turned into static. They told me I had “really up days and really down days”, a sentence that may as well be a death sentence if you deal with a form of mental illness. They noticed, they noticed I wasn’t neurotypical, that I was different and not in a good way. You know what hurts the most? These two women were part of a moment of trauma for me and they didn’t even try- for them it was just another day at work. They’ll never know how I spent the next few months psychoanalyzing myself, speaking with professionals to help me find “what I did wrong?”, “why was I a failure?”.

After months of pouring every bit of energy I had towards my team I was told I wasn’t good enough. A part of me wishes I could send this letter to those women, to show them “look what you did to me”. But I feel it would give them another opportunity to dismiss me when I’m most vulnerable, a moment similar to when they glossed over my anxiety disorder, chalking it up to, “I think we’re all anxious right now”. At the end of everything I’m more hurt than bitter. I’m not a manager, I’m not a leader but I know I would never put someone in such a situation and at the very least I can sleep at night knowing that.

To say my time at the bookstore was a learning experience would be an understatement. One day I was at cash dealing with a customer who clearly wasn’t having a good day and I decided then and there, I needed to leave. So, I finally ripped the rose coloured glasses off and decided to give my two weeks. Those two weeks were the least stressed I had been the entire year. Ironically, I had to leave the bookstore to finally take to heart the kind words that were told to me in it. I remember how I was told at my previous location how incredible it was of how many interpersonal relationships I had made in the short amount of time and it looks like here was no different….but it was. I’m now permanently leaving this company behind and realizing if this is what I can do with a few months, a year, imagine what I can do in a permanent career setting? I think I’ll be just fine; not because I’m “Finn”, not because I’m glue but because I try and maybe, just maybe, that’s enough.

#mine #letting go

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pretty-pink-seaslug · 4 years

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K .,, koichi,.,, with a tall S/o Headcanons ,.,,,, please I will give you my life nad first born I jsyt love koichi sm

🔊Koichi’s🗯 tree of an s/o!

•You may have been the youngest of your household, but you damn sure weren’t the shortest

•When you turned 12 yo ass turned into a tree n shit— it was around 14 where you became taller than your mother

•You werent new to the school, but! You were new to the other building!

•The 2nd building of the school was basically yours but mirrored, you were being moved there because your teacher is an asshole and you showed up exceptionally late one day and she got tired of you not focusing—

•You got moved into class 2-5, there was that big refrigerator body barrel chested bitch with the apple bottom ass named Prince Josuke all the girls fawned over so you immediately felt like you would get annoyed real fast— this is where you met Koichi!

•You sat by the window at the back of the class (hell yeah more distractions 😎) and he was sitting next to you, he never took into account just how tall you were until he got a good look at you Jesus you look like your 6’8

•You 2 never interacted until after school, where he asked to be friends! You asked him why and he said “I dunno, guess I just got good vibes from you, hehe”

•You were about to walk home together but cockblock Josuke starts walking with him, you’re not jealous of Josuke (if anything you’d like to be friends with him and Okuyasu too) it’s just the fact that Josuke has fangirls and those fangirls constantly talk to him and you’re honestly scared you’ll get fucking trampled or something—

•So you and Koichi meet up the next day, you 2 talk over melonpan before class and, Koichi being Koichi, he begs to help you with your work. You were hesitant to say yes because you honestly didn’t feel like doing your work, but you said yes anyways because he’s just a real nice guy and you love him— platonically tho you swear!!!

•You kept getting helped with your work for about 2 weeks, until Koichi asked if he could meet you behind the school, to which you normally would’ve said no out of trust issues but he’s a mouse compared to your height so you said yeah knowing you could beat his ass—

•You meet him behind the school and, unexpectedly, he confesses to you! You couldn’t deny your feelings for him either so fuck it you started dating

~~~I’m sorry this part was so long I don’t how to shut up fucking kill me~~~

•He kinda loves how tall you are, you can reach things he can’t reach! He can’t reach you for a kiss tho :(

•He may or may not have asked you to pick him up bridle style because he loves having height for once

•He tries to impress you with his knowledge on pink dark boy, it failed because you literally know nothing about that manga

“This manga’s called pink dark boy—“

“Does this mf wanna be pink or dark wtf”

•You also get the regular quirks of having a Koichi for a bf! Such as:

•Him cooking for you, him cleaning your room even though you didn’t ask, him cleaning your entire house even though you didn’t ask, good fucking god he’s such a homebody, him helping you study, him playing video games with you, him watching anime with you, and any cheesy shit you can think of!

•Your parents love the boy omg he gets all parents within his vicinity to end up loving him somehow

•lol that’s just the mouse boy charm I guess 🐭

Hhhhhh I’m sorry the story part was so long I don’t know why I type so much aaaagh what’s wrong with me—

#I have a strong feeling this one in particular is shit #jjba x reader #jjba diu #koichi hirose #koichi x reader #jojos bizzare adventure diamond is unbreakable #diamond is unbreakable #diu x reader #love headcanons #jojo part 4

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harrysgloves · 4 years

Text

Trouble (chapter 2)

>>>Catch up with master list here!<<<

word count: 5.6K

story summary: You’re nothing but trouble and Harry can’t help the fact that he wants a taste.

warnings: LANGUAGE // Bisexual character // Date rape drugs (not used only mentioned no one’s getting drugged I promise!) // Smut and lots of it fam. // Oral female receiving // Rough sex? // Unprotected sex (don’t do this okay?) // slight degradation // Size kink? (honestly it’s a lot lemme know if I missed something.)

chapter summary: You and Harry hook up

a/n: wooo took me a long time to write but it’s long so enjoy. This is turning out to be another series so I’m super excited for that! Also, I don’t condone any of this behavior this is just a story for fun. Don’t do this shit. PLEASE. Okay. Thanks.

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Harry couldn't keep his eyes off you all night. He stared you down everywhere you went. Following your every move across the bar. From the minute you walked out of your bedroom dressed like THAT he couldn't peel his eyes off you.

Your tight black faux leather skirt hugged every inch of your thighs. Your ass seconds from popping out of the back of it. When you did a little spin for him to tell you if he liked your outfit or not he had to hold back the groan bubbling in the back of his throat.

The thigh high boots you had on with that little crop top that made your breast so out there and full with that choker necklace around your neck was driving him mad. He had to readjust the problem in his pants many times before even walking out the door to go meet the rest of your friends.

He knew he was done for the second you teased your hair one last time in the mirror by the door. His mind immediately started flashing images of his hand laced through your hair pulling it so tightly your head snapped back as he rammed his cock so deep inside you those beautiful moans fell from your perfectly pouty lips. He'd fuck you so hard into the bed teasing you the whole time about how you couldn't take his big cock.

Your sloppy wet hole squeezing him for dear life as he pounded into you over and over again until you came all over him but he wouldn't stop there. No, he'd use you all up, make you never want to be with anyone else ever again. Have you cumming on his length until you couldn't even remember your own name.

"You coming?" You said, holding open the apartment door open, looking at him with those curious doe eyes that he'd love to see looking up from the floor as he shoved his dick so far down your throat you'd choke.

"Uh, yeh." He tried his best to wipe all his thoughts out of his mind but he couldn't help it. Ever since he saw you spread out on the living room floor, hearing your sweet moans, he wanted to fuck the soul out of you.

You smiled biting your lip as you turned to walk down the hallway. Knowing full well what he was thinking. Your hips swaying just a bit more than usual as you walked in front of him.

"Jesus, just fuck her already." Finn groaned from beside Harry snapping his eyes off you lingering at the bar to his friend.

"Whatever." He said rolling his eyes and taking a swig of his beer. If he wanted to stare at you he had to get better at hiding it. Your friends lived to give him shit.

"He's right. You stare at her any longer you're going to get a restraining order." Link laughed from the other side of Harry the second the brunette shot him a look. He was already tired of this conversation and it had just started.

"Yeah Link, like you don't look the same way whenever Addie walks into a room." The last boy, Lex, in the group smiled widely as Link flushed slightly and Finn gagged.

"Shut the fuck up that's my sister!" Finn groaned looking around the room as he tried to not get pissed about his friend fucking his sister… again.

"They've been together fo' 4 months mate. It's time t'get over it." Harry said, smiling at his now very pissed off and uncomfortable friend. Thankful the conversation had moved off you and towards anything else.

He was so tired of everyone giving him shit for how much he liked you. He just couldn't help it. From the first time he saw you he was intrigued. Your not giving a fuck attitude. Your style. Everything about you was so enticing.

He knew you were nothing but a heartbreak waiting to happen but he couldn't help the fact he thought about what it'd be like to be with.

But now with those lingering thoughts of you on the floor moaning and thrashing around, he wanted you more than ever.

"At least he's not fucking your sister." Finn argued to Lex. Their feud building. Really it was like they liked fighting about this, since it was almost every time they went out someone brought up Link and Adeline.

"No the British fucker is doing mine." Lex said, rolling his eyes before he looked at Harry.

"It was one time and I was drunk and 've said sorry 12 times! Besides, she's with Rose and I didn't know." A shudder ran through his body as he thought back to his night with Elena. He wasn't one to help someone cheat and if he would have known about Rose he definitely wouldn't have slept with her.

"I'm so glad I don't have a sister." Link said, smiling widely as Finn glared at him.

"Your brother's hot. He can be fair game." Harry smirked at Link who stood there with his mouth gaping.

"Oh fuck, he got you there." Lex cackled, Finn joining along with Harry as Link grumbled out something about killing all of them.

It didn't take long for Harry's eyes to move back across the room to you. He should have guessed you'd be at the bar chatting up some guy who had bought you the same cheap beer he was drinking. His arm touching your leg.

You only looked away from your drink for a second. Your head turning around to look for all your friends. It was only a second but it was long enough for the creep trying to get you home with him to slip something into your drink.

"Holy shit." Harry coughed, spitting out the alcohol in his mouth back into his bottle, ready to go kick someone's ass when Link's hand reached out to stop him.

"You're going to miss the best part." His friend said making Harry turn to him, eyebrows furrowed.

"Wot?"

"Ohhh, did someone drug her drink, again?" Finn asked way too excited as they all turned to look at you staring at your drink. Your eyes rising so slowly to the guy in front of you before turning to the group of boys.

Harry watched completely confused when Finn gave a subtle nod. Your head snapping back to the creep in front of you. The sweetest smile Harry had ever seen coming across your face.

"God, I love this." Lex said making Harry look at him momentarily before focusing back on you.

He was going to walk over to you but Link's hand stayed firmly over his chest as he shook his head no. Pointing to you now gesturing to the guy somewhere behind him.

Harry's heart racing as the jacked up jock turned around in his seat to look behind him. You looked over to the group of boys sending them a wink before switching the bottles of beer around before the guy turned back to you.

"Fuck, everytime. These idiots, I swear." Finn gave a short chuckle as the huge guy sitting across from you at the bar started drinking his drink so pleased with himself as you picked up your own and took a large gulp.

"Not like they don't deserve it." Link shrugged, removing his hand from Harry's chest.

His eyes never left you. At the bar chatting up this asshole like he didn't about date rape you. Your arm resting on the jerks leg as he started to sway in his seat. Your hand reaching out for the dudes phone, sending a text from it before putting it back in his pocket.

Your hands running around in his other pants pockets until you pulled out a small baggie and the guys wallet. Placing a kiss on the sleeping man's face, an outline of your lipstick left behind on his cheek as you turned so triumphantly towards your group of friends.

"Looks like drinks are on…" You paused opening the wallet one more time. "Aaron Anders. What a fucking name."

"Here you go, knock yourself out and make sure you flush those for me. Can't let anymore rapey pervs get ahold of that shit in here." You said throwing the wallet and baggie to Finn who caught it instantly.

"Who'd y'text from his phone?" Harry asked, his head peeking around you to see the guy being lifted out of the bar by his friends.

"The creeps friends. Couldn't let him die or some shit. That'd be hard to explain." You shrugged, not bothering to look around at the guy being pulled out of the bar.

Really. It was his own fault.

"Where's Ellie and Rose?" Lex said, turning his head around the room to try and look for them which was really pointless.

"Probably fucking in the bathroom." You said, not even attempting to look around. If you knew Rose, she was already trying to win her girl back.

"I'm serious about those pills, Finn, flush them." You said, turning your attention to the guy on your right. His hand running through the billowing waves of dark black hair at the top of his head as he debated what you said.

You should have known the idiot would be thinking about taking them. He had a real problem when it came to drugs.

"We could just take them and see where the night goes." He said, his dark chocolate brown puppy dog eyes looking up to meet yours. Making you laugh at how serious he was being.

He was always a fun time but the kid had some real issues.

"Dude, no."

"Yeah, you got some serious problems."

"I think we should get y'sum therapy mate."

"Fuck, sugguest one thing and all the sudden its oh Finn you have a drug addiction. Fuck you guys." Finn huffed, turning to leave the group and heading for the bathrooms. Your smile wide across your face as you watched to make sure he didn't detour to go date rape drug himself.

It was only a few seconds of you staring at the now closed men's bathroom door before you felt eyes burning through you. Your attention snapping up to Harry who didn't even bother to look away from you.

"Wanna dance?" You asked him, licking your lips. His eyes focusing on them so intensely your breathing caught in your throat. The way he looked at you sometimes, like he was ready to pounce on you, take you right then and there. It was exhilarating.

Your hand wrapped around his wrist, pulling him through the crowd before he even had a chance to respond to your question. As much as you love playing this teasing game with him he wasn’t going to be staring at you all night long, looking like he was about 2 seconds from ripping your clothes to shreds, without at least dancing with you.

"GET IT HARRY!" You heard Link yell from behind you, making you roll your eyes and try harder to push through all the people on the dance floor.

"If you don't shut the fuck up I'm going to tell Addie about this shit. We can't take you anywhere." You heard the last bit of what Lex yelled at Link and a sharp “ow”, you assumed Lex had hit him and honestly, you were thankfully.

Your misfit group of friends, while very entertaining at times, were assholes. They stuck their noses in everyone’s business and had no problem forcing themselves into things that didn’t concern them. They were rude, overbearing, and you loved them for it. Even if it was a little much at times.

Your hands instantly wrapped behind the back of his neck when you made it to a clear enough spot on the dance floor. His firm grip on your waist sent sparks through you. Your big doe eyes flashing up to his smugly smiling face, knowing damn well you felt whatever was between you two.

His body was like a magnet slowly drawing you closer and closer to him. You swayed to the beat of the music, moving in complete sync with him, his body pressed so tightly to yours as you moved back and forth.

The air around you two became thick with the body heat of the others around you. Your hair stuck to the back of your neck but you couldn’t have cared less. The way he was holding you to him like you were the last thing on this earth that he wanted to touch had you wanting to beg him to fuck you right now.

You had no idea dancing could be such a turn on.

He pulled you in even closer to him, his large hands hungrily running over every inch of you that he could possibly touch.

You stopped dancing, biting your lip as you looked at him. His own movements stopping with you. His eyes focusing from your chest that was pressed against him to your lips.

"Can I kiss you?" You asked, eyes pleading up to him. You'd never wanted to kiss someone so much in your whole life.

His lips curling up slightly at the edges as he hummed, thinking about what you'd ask. His hand moving your hair off your forehead, wrapping around the back of your neck as he pulled your lips to his.

Fireworks wasn't even close to how it felt, more like an explosion.

Sparks.

Fire.

Shooting flames of adrenaline pulsating from his mouth to your own. Consuming your entire being into him.

His tongue forcing its way into your mouth with no hesitation. So damn determined to get what he wanted from you. So demanding, so forceful, so dominating.

The submissive inside of you whimpering. Clawing its way to the surface of your mind.

"I love being right." You heard the sweet voice from beside you. Pulling back from Harry not even needing to look beside you to know she'd be wearing a smug smile on her face.

"I like y'bein' right too." He said to Rose. Your eyebrows furrowed as you looked at him before turning to her. Silently questioning what she was talking about.

"I said you'd totally fuck him. He didn't think so." She shrugged, her head laying on Elena's shoulder.

For being so cozy with Rose the girl looked like she wanted to murder you. Her eyes narrowing at the hands around your waist. Harry not letting your body go very far from his.

"Must be nice to be right all the time, baby." You said with a smile. "We're going home."

>>>

Any shred of decency you had left in you was gone as soon as the car door to your uber closed shut. You were on him from the minute you two were semi alone. Legs straddling over his waist in the backseat. Your skirt riding up so high your ass was exposed. The cool air coming from the vents licked your hot skin.

"Gonna give him a show like y'did me?" Harry asked when his lips momentarily disconnected from yours. That swoon worthy smug on his face as you shrugged.

"Don't think he'd mind." You said, leaning back down to connect your lips to his. His hands grabbing your thighs, running up to your cheeks of your behind, pulling you forward onto his clothed length.

Rose definitely wasn't lying. The dude was fucking stacked. Your core clenching involuntary at the sheer thought of him sliding into you. Already feeling bad for the abuse you were about to put your body through.

"Not that the free porn isn't great but we've been outside your place for 10 minutes." The guy from the front finally interrupted you two.

Harry pulled away with a smile on his face as he slapped your ass signaling you to get off of him.

You squeaked, slapping his shoulder, grumbling about him being a dick as you got out of the car. Harry tapping the poor drivers shoulder when he finally got out, shaking his head, smiling at you, his arm wrapping around your shoulders as he pulled you up the stairs to your apartment.

The second the door to your apartment flew open he was on you. Hands gripping the back of your neck as he held your lips to his. Your feet stumbling over his as you both tried to take off your shoes without disconnecting your lips. His arms wrapping around your waist to steady you on your feet.

"Eager?" You asked, smug smile on your face as you peered up at him.

"No idea sweetheart. Had t'deal with a hard-on all week after y'little show." He said pulling you in closer to him. His hands traveling down the valley of your back to your bottom, squeezing each cheek hard in this hand.

"My room. Now." He ordered. Your lips rolling into your mouth at his demanding tone of voice. Already loving the idea of him being so rough with you.

You turned on your heel heading for his bedroom. Taking off your top as you walked down the hallway with him shortly behind you. Throwing the useless piece of cloth over your shoulder, you heard him groan.

You felt his arms back around you, his chest bare chest pressed against your back as he guided you quickly into his room. Slamming the door behind him and promptly pressing you up against the flimsy wood.

"Thought I said my room, not get undressed?" He asked a small smile playing on the corner of his lips as he watched your chest rise up and down from your heavy breathing.

"Thought you knew I liked to break rules." You said arms snaking behind yourself to undo your bra clasp. The black material falling to the floor in between you two.

His eyes immediately focusing on your chest. You could have sworn they visibly darkened. A shiver running through your body as he looked at you. His eyes eagerly eating up every inch of your chest. Studying every crevice of you as his hands grasped each breast firmly. His slightly callused fingers running across your soft skin was such a contrasting feeling to anyone else you'd been with. Taking the air from your lungs as he continued to touch you like it was the only thing he'd ever wanted to do.

"Fuck." He groaned when he heard your soft sighs, leaning down and capturing your lips again.

Your arms laced behind his neck as he guided you to his bed. Pushing you down on the soft blankets. Following you down to the bed. He laid over top of you, leg between yours, hands on either side of your head as he kissed the soul out of you.

Every movement of his tongue against yours had your hips shifting for any sort of friction you could find. Thinking of the things that tongue could do to other parts of you as you pulled him in closer to you. Your chest pressed tight against his as your nails ran down his back and eventually to the button of his pants.

"Eager?" He asked, pulling away from you with a smile, throwing your own words back at you.

"Yeah I am. So get these off." You said, pulling his pants down the little bit you could from your position under him. Not caring how desperate your voice sounded. You were impatient and not above showing it.

In the short time of you kissing him in the club to now he had gotten you so worked up. Every touch he laid on you sent sparks shooting through your entire body. Kissing him was better than any kiss you'd ever had.

It was already addictive. He was addictive.

"Awe, lovey, 'M sorry want me t'touch y'yeh?" His one hand lifting from beside your head, pushing up your skirt.

Your breath catching as his fingers gently ran across your soaking wet underwear. Your hips lifting of their own accord, chasing his hand as he pulled it away from you.

"Jesus, fuckin' soaked fo' me."

The tease knew what he was doing to you. Smiling down so brightly with those perfectly white straight teeth gleaming at you, taunting you. You groaned in frustration, rolling your eyes at him as you laid further back into the mattress.

"Harry." You whined, shifting your hips again. Hands desperately pulling at the front of his undone pants, finally freeing him.

His length hitting you on the leg before bouncing to his stomach. Your eyes widened as you looked down at the very large situation you had at hand.

"That's not gonna fit." You said staring down at the monstrosity before you as he laughed deeply from his chest, shaking his head at you.

"I'm serious! That's like a fucking forearm!" You knew Rose saidwhe was supposed ro be huge but the guy was as big as a porn star. There was no way that thing was supposed to fit inside you. No way.

"Guess I'll have t'get y'ready then." He said, standing from the bed, slipping off his pants one leg at a time. His eyes never leaving you for one minute.

You cautiously eyed him as he continued to smile down at you. You could feel his ego inflating by the second which was infuriating but you honestly had no idea how the hell he planned on getting that fucking thing inside you without it hurting.

"You'll stop if it hurts right?" You asked, making him pause as he got back onto the bed.

"Course. Y'still want t'do this?" He asked, slowly backing away but you quickly reached for him, arms around his neck.

"Yeah just wanted to make sure." You quickly kissed him again. Hoping he wouldn't start having second thoughts about this. You were already here, half dressed, and turned on. It'd be a shame to waste a good night out and not get laid.

"Tell me if y'get uncomfortable, yeh?" He asked, pulling away from you, his eyes that soft cute green again, making you bite your lip as you nodded your agreement.

You laid back down on the bed as he moved further into you. Resting on your elbows as those soft satin lips you were slowly becoming obsessed with connected to yours again. Calming to waves of anxiety in your mind.

His hands smoothly unzipping the side zipper of your skirt with ease. Slowly pulling the taunt fabric down your legs. The tips of his fingers gently brushing across your silky legs as the fabric was pulled off and tossed carelessly to the floor.

His lips parting from your needy mouth. Trailing his lips across the sensitive skin of your collarbone, down to the swells of your breast. His tongue running circles across your pebbled nipples, slowly, but with determination to give care to each one individually. His lips curling at the sounds of your gasps and sighs when he pulled back slightly to blow cool air gently across the warm trail his tongue left across your chest.

Watching so intently when your nipples poked to hard points. A satisfied hum coming from him as he observed your body's reaction to him. Your chest moving up and down so quickly, hands clutching his blanket for dear life.

Trailing lingering wet kisses down your stomach. Your legs involuntarily clenching when he nipped lightly at the sensitive skin close to your hip bone. A hiss coming from you as he repeated the action on the other side.

His tattooed hand running across the thin lace fabric of your underwear and you could feel his grin against your heated skin. His fingers gently tugging down the remainder of your fabric.

Leaving you completely naked in front of him. Your heart rate picking up the second he moved so swiftly in between your legs. Resting on your elbows to see him sat with one of your legs on either side of his head. His hands running down the insides of your thighs, making you clench around nothing.

"What did Rose say again?" He asked, finger gently pulling back your lips slightly. His thumb rubbing light circles around your bundle of nerves before looking up at you, waiting for you to answer his question.

"What?" You asked, confused as to why these two insisted on talking about the other as you laid beneath them. He had you dripping a puddle between your legs and he really expected you to talk about Rose?

"I think she said sumthin' 'bout makin' y'sing right, love?" He asked, not bothering to give you any time to answer.

His mouth connecting with your core in an instant. His tongue flat and thick as he leisurely swiped from your entrance all the way to your clit. Your head landing back on the bed as you let out a shocked moan.

"Fuck, y'taste so sweet." He said his British accent somehow getting thicker as he became entranced in you. His arms wrapping around your thighs pulling you down on his face as he took his time tasting you.

Your eyes struggled to stay open as you peered down at him completely devouring you. The things he could do while kissing you was impressive. But this? This was on a different level.

He took complete joy in hearing your untamed moans. Showing no care in world as he dragged his face around in your arousal. Happily lapping up every single drop from you as he switched so skillfully between your pulsating bundle of nerves and your entrance.

He was a man who hadn't ate in years.

And you were his meal.

His hands around your thighs digging into your skin only added to your insane amount of pleasure. His fingers embedded into your skin leaving bruises on your soft silky skin for everyone to see.

You felt like an instrument being so beautifully played. Chords echoing from deep in your chest as his fingers slipped inside of you, pumping to a distant imaginary metronome.

Your body burned brighter than the sun, a warming sensation pulling at the pit of your stomach. Completely different than anything you'd ever experienced before.

"Harry." You breathed out, hands lacing through his hair to pull his mouth off you.

"It feels different." You whined as a third finger entered you. His pace not faltering the slightest bit as he smiled up to you.

That adorable angelic simple popping out was such a contrast to the devilish things he was doing to you.

"I know." Was the only thing he said before his mouth was back on you, giving light suction to your clit as his fingers expertly slid into you on final time.

The dam had broke. Flooding, gushing, out of you as your vision blackened around the edges. You'd never had an out of body experience before but you were sure this was what they felt like.

Your whole body tensing before a wave of mind numbing euphoria rained over you. The moan you let out was like thunder, roaring in a tidal wave of absolute pleasure.

You had no idea sex could feel like this.

Your body no longer felt like your own as you laid on the now wet bed. Slight twitches of your leg was the only thing keeping your eyes even slightly open until the smug smiling Harry came into your line of sight. He licked his lips so arrogantly as he brushed the hair from your face.

"How was that fo' gettin' y'ready, love?" His playful green eyes would have infuriated you with his taunting tone of voice but you were too gone in that fuzzy state of mind to notice.

"Amazing." You said honestly, you had never had anything even remotely close to that before. Your body was still experiencing random shocks and twitches as he guided you to a less wet spot of his bed.

He parted your legs, hands running down the inside of your thighs as his length slapped gently against your bundle of nerves. Jolts running through you everytime he sprung back to your clit.

He slowly guided himself through your soaked folds. Watching your lips encased around him. He let out a low hiss when his tip slipped inside you, already stretching your walls.

You whimpered at the feeling of his thick tip sliding in and out of you. Slowly working his way up to you being able to take all of him. He moved so carefully. Inching his way fully full inside of you.

"God, y'fuckin' tight." He groaned as your walls clamped around him. Pulling him even further into you.

You whimpered out a pathetic moan when he pulled out of you slowly all the way to his tip and fully back into your tight channel. His eyes glued to where you were connected, watching himself finally fuck you.

"What's wrong, pup?" He asked when he saw your hips shift forward slightly, the cocky smile on his face as he leaned down over you. Resting on one forearm his other hand wrapping around the back of your neck.

"Harder." You whined, bucking your hips underneath him, trying to get him to move the way you wanted him to. Desperate for him to make you feel like he did before.

"Thought y'couldn't handle me?" He said his hips ever so slightly pushing harder into you. Making you wither and moan beneath him.

"Please, Harry." You cried, arms wrapping around the back of his neck as you. Your legs connecting around his back trying anything to get him to finally fuck you.

He connected his lips to yours swallowing your cries and moans as his hips rolled against yours. Crashing against you with so much force against that sweet spot inside of you could barely think straight.

Your body became nothing but a moldable toy for him. He ripped you up from the bed, turning you around within a blink of an eye. Slamming himself back into you from behind.

"Oh, fuck." You cried, head hanging down between your bent arms.

"Wanna hear what 'M doin' t'ya" He said breathlessly from behind you. His hand around your neck as he brought you to his sweat covered chest.

Your hands holding on to his one arm for dear life as he took whatever he wanted. His lips pressed against your ear. His breathless, groans and whispers of how fucking good you felt wrapped around him so tightly were the only thing you could hear.

Your body couldn't take anymore. The high just on the horizon as his thrusts started to get harder and sloppier.

"Gonna cum all over my cock, sweet girl?" He asked, a satisfied hummed leaving him when your walls tightened around him at his words.

"Such a dirty girl, puppy." He whispered into your ear. Chuckling softly at the moan that left you, shaking his head.

He let your body fall to the bed. Your arms barely catching yourself before your face smacked into one of his pillows. You were so close to going again. Your orgasm so close you could taste it as his hands held tightly onto your waist.

"Should 'ave known y'wanted me to use y'like a cocksleve." He said so close to your ear as his front draped over your backside. An earth shattering moan left you at his words. Throwing your hips backwards faster into him as your body worked of its own accord.

His free hand rubbing the perfect amount of pressure on your clit was all you needed to finally let go.

Fucking him was the closest you'd ever get to heaven.

Your eyes closed, rolling into the back of your head as the euphoric feeling swept you away. Your body shaking as you let it all out. Let yourself go completely. Your fuzzy state of mind only increasing with this long lasting effect he had on your body.

You'd never cum as hard as you did when you were with him.

The finale snap if his hips and warm release across your ass was what snapped you out of it. Laying down flatly on his bed as he laid down beside you. Arm over his face as he tried to take in much needed air.

"We should 'ave done that ages ago." He said, making you laugh as you got up from your spot in his bed.

"We could always do it again. I wouldn't mind." You said as you picked up your random articles of clothing from around his room.

"Where y'goin'?" He asked, removing the arm from his face. The confused look he was giving you was nothing short of adorable.

"I'm going to my room." You said simply shrugging as you grabbed the last thing you thought you had in his space.

"Why?" He asked, sitting up on his elbow as he watched you scanning for any leftover articles of clothing you may have laying around.

"Cause I don't do stay overs." You pulled your underwear out from beneath his pants quickly adding them to the pile of clothes you had to take back with you to your room.

"Wot?"

"Have you ever seen someone leaving here in the morning that I've been with?" You asked him, finally, done looking for everything you could finally talk to him face to face.

"No?"

"Yeah, because I don't let people stay over and I don't do the whole cuddling thing or staying at theirs. Just easier that way." You said sternly. Making it well known from the start that this wasn't going to be anything serious.

You didn't do serious.

"See ya tomorrow, Harry." You said with a smile as you walked out his room shutting his down behind you.

He groaned lay back against the bed hands running down his face as he looked at the ceiling in his room. His mind running with all the things he liked about you. All the ways you were perfect.

And God, the sex, it was just the best with you. Everything about you was just so fucking addictive.

And now that he's had a taste, he wants more.

#Harry Styles #Harry #Harry Styles x Reader #Harry Styles x You #Harry styles x y/n #Harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #fanfic #fanfiction #writing #mine #Trouble

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