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libraryofloveletters · 1 year

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Can’t Get Away From You

Erling Haaland x Fem!Reader

Warnings: a mini fight, some shouting, one mention of throwing something at someone, your boyfriend is attached to your hip and follows you like a puppy, power outages, jumpscares, some swearing, stuck in the middle of no where.

Word Count: 2.3k

Author’s Note: okay I lied, I know I said no fics but this was in my drafts and I had the urge to finish it :) also this was a random idea that @themandaloriansdiaries and I came up with on ft many many nights ago

"Why do you always do this?” You shouted at the man across the room from you.

Your boyfriend stares at you like you had gone insane and sometimes he thought you were, but tonight’s shouting was justified.

The two of you were supposed to go to your sister’s surprise birthday party but big shocker, Erling chose to stay back and kick a ball around for another 2 hours. Their training session was already done, he had no reason to stay back and yet he did. You were waiting for him so you could go together opposed to taking two cars because he kept telling you 10 more minutes and he’d be home, but you ended up being two hours late to your own sister’s party.

“I said I was sorry, didn’t I?” He looks at you and you can’t help but roll your eyes.

“Yes, because that makes up for the fact that I was late to my sister’s party. You’d never do that to your sister, would you? And you know I would never do that to her either. I actually care to show up when I say I will.”

“Y/n, you're overreacting. She didn’t even care that you were late.” He huffed, sitting on the couch.

You cannot believe him; he was late, had the audacity to tell you she didn’t even care and now he can't even stand up so you can shout at him? You were sick of his shit, you needed to leave before you threw something at his head.

The man watches as you grab your purse and phone, storming out of the front door and letting it slam shut behind you. He gets up, following you out the door.

“Where are you going?” He shouts from the porch, you don’t answer but instead get into your car and back out of the driveway.

You had no idea where you were going but you needed to be anywhere but there.

You drove for what felt like hours before you finally stopped in some random parking lot off the side of the road; you had driven out of the city and into the countryside. Hunger was kicking in and you tumbled through your purse for a mint, a piece of gum or literally anything edible. Eventually giving up on the tumbling, you dumped the contents of your purse into the passenger seat and switched on the light.

There’s a set of keys staring at you, a bright blue man city key chain hung on the bunch; the keys to the cabin.

Shortly after you and Erling began dating, the two of you decided you needed a place to go when you wanted to be away from the city. That’s how you ended up with a cabin 3 hours outside of Manchester.

The sky was varying shades of the black and the once viable moon was now blocked by clouds. You figured since you were closer to the cabin then you were home, you might as well spend the night there.

Another hour and you pulled into the muddy driveway, it seemed to have rained at some point during the day. You silently thank your boyfriend in your head for putting in sensor lights, otherwise you might have just slept in the car. The yard was pitch black and the Remingtons, the couple who owned the house across from your place, were away for the summer which meant you were all alone in the middle of nowhere.

The thought freaked you out, but not enough to make you turn back and go home.

You shoved everything back into your purse, slinging it over your shoulder as you avoided the puddles of mud on your way to the front door. The look clicked as you turned the key and you sprinted into the cabin, shutting the door behind you.

A hand dragged across the wall, feeling for the light switch and you pressed it, lighting up the place. You also turned on the light in the kitchen, bathroom and bedroom because you were alone.. not because you were scared or anything like that.

The cupboards were pretty empty, anything of substance was eaten the last time you two were there because you didn’t want it to go bad. The only things were a few boxes of mashed potatoes, a can of corn and one can of sliced pineapple.

You couldn't be bothered to cook so you pulled the pineapple can out and was about to crack it open when there was a knock on the front door.

It was safe to say your blood ran cold.

The Remingtons were gone, you were certain of that because they told you to check on the house when you come down if you did, which meant they weren’t there.

No one else lived around here, and you can’t just say no one is home because you switched on every light possible.

Setting the can down, you slowly made your way to the door. You waited to hear if there’s another knock, you peeked out the front window in hopes of catching a glimpse of whatever was outside.

“Babe!” The voice called, startling you. “Open up!”

You groaned, the voice belonging to none other than your boyfriend. You opened the door, unfortunately, and found your giant of a boyfriend standing there with a bag in hand.

“Are you gonna make me stand in the rain?” He asks, the hood over his head blocking the water from his face. “I figured you didn’t eat dinner, so I brought you something to eat.” He stepped into the house; he was so big, you couldn’t really stop him if you wanted too.

“When the rain stops, I want you out.” You turn to him and he smiles, nodding.

He handed the bag over to you, the smell of Chinese food filling your surroundings. You refused to cave, holding your ground and staying mad at him. He shut the door behind him, turning the locks.

“What the fuck man? How’d you know I was here?” You handed the bag over to him, acting like you didn’t want it. Erling shrugged, taking the bag back and going to the kitchen.

He unpacked the boxes, setting them on the counter. “You left your location on.”

You groaned quietly, cursing yourself for leaving it on. Erling ignores your theatrics and puts some food on a plate for you, bringing it over to you and setting it on your lap. He knew you well enough to know if he offered the plate to you, you’d refuse and you needed to eat; part of why you were so snappy with him was because you were hungry.

He can’t help but notice how you un-tense now that he’s around; it brought a smile to his face but he didn’t dare say anything.

Erling sat beside you, eating quietly.

“Can we play a board game?” He asked, setting the plate on the coffee table.

“No.”

Erling hummed, going to dig the monopoly box out from the tv stand drawer. He set up the board, all the little pieces, the cards and the dice and began playing by himself.

You ignored the man, trying not to laugh as he screwed him over on one of the places he wanted. He rolled the dice, counting out the places he needed to move when the lights shut off.

The sound of thunder startled out, causing you to jump slightly.

“Babe, you okay?” He called, getting up. “Ow fuc-” he groans, probably stepping on one of the little pieces.

“I’m fine,” you get up, walking to the kitchen to get your phone off the table. It wasn’t pitch black, you can still make your way around the house so you searched through the kitchen cupboards for some candles, anything that can give you light for the time being.

Erling had gone quiet, you were about to turn around to see where he was but a hand on your shoulder caused you to drop your phone and let out a scream.

“It’s just me,” he laughed and you smacked his arm.

“What the fuck man! God, you are so- ugh.”

You sit at the table, phone back in hand as you called the power company. They finally get to your call after an hour on hold and let you know that the power won’t be turning back on until tomorrow morning.

The phone dropped on the table, your head tipped back as you groaned.

Erling reaches for the candles on the top shelf and lights them, setting them on the table. He sits across from you quietly, the two of you listening to the rain until the sound stops, the last flash of lighting strikes and it goes quiet.

He looks out the window and back at you, the soft orange glow of the candle light reflecting off of your skin. “I should head out,” he says, pulling your focus to him.

“What?”

“The rain.. it stopped. You said leave when it’s done raining.” He reminds you, standing up.

“Oh.. right, yeah. Okay, go ahead.”

Erling kisses your head when he walks past you, telling you to call him if you needed anything but you ignored him, still holding out on being upset even though you weren’t anymore.

The door shuts, you move from your spot at the dining room table to the couch but before you could sit down, the doorbell rings again. “What?” You shouted, walking over to see what he wanted.

He smiles at you when you open the door, pointing to the tree that’s fallen and blocked the driveway. “I’m stuck.”

“Use that viking strength of yours and push it away.” You shut the door again and went back to the couch.

You felt a bit bad, the guilt of him sitting out in the rain sunk in, even more so seeing that you had nothing to distract you. You pulled yourself off the couch and opened the door again, assuming you’d see his car on and him in it but it was off, the driveway was dark and the tree was still there.

“Erling?!” You shouted in the emptiness, “where are you?!”

There’s no answer but what are you supposed to do? Stand out in the rain or maybe go looking for him in the dark?

You shut the door, turning back around to see him sitting at the kitchen table.

“WHAT THE FUCK ERLING?!” You screamed, your heart jumping out of your body momentarily. You let out a breath, hand pressed to your chest. “How the hell did you get in here?”

“The back door was open.”

“Why are you lurking at the back- wait, it was unlocked?” Your brows furrowed, looking towards the back door.

Erling nodded, “yeah, I wasn’t lurking though. I went to check if the generator would turn on.”

“And it did?” You wrapped the blanket from the couch around yourself.

Erling looked up at the light that’s yet to turn on. “I mean, obviously not.”

It was freezing in the cabin, considering that the power had shut off and it was raining, it only made it colder.

“C’mere,” Erling calls for you, his arms opened as he waits for you to come cuddle up next to him. You shook your head, waddling your way to the bedroom. Your boyfriend follows you, watching as you dropped on the bed and pulled the comforter up on top of you.

You can feel the cold running up your spine, the cold air creeping along your skin despite the two blankets and the giant man in the room lifting the blanket wasn’t helping.

“What are you doing?” You grumbled, not turning around.

Erling slipped into bed next to you, pulling you flat against his chest. His body was like a heater, the man wrapping his arms around you and kissing your shoulder before fixing the blanket.

You tried to wiggle away but he held you firmly in place. “You can stay mad but I'm not letting you freeze.”

You let your boyfriend hold you, simply because it's cold and not because you were mad at yourself for being mad at him for no reason. At some point, the two of you must've dozed off.

The lights were what woke you up; bright white lights shining down on you from the ceiling and the fact that the curtains were still open didn't help your eyes that were now adjusting to being open again.

There’s some heavy on you, you can’t even pull yourself up and you’re almost certain you know what it is. You look down to find your giant of a boyfriend on top of you. His arm tossed over your hip, face smooshed against your stomach as he snored quietly.

You smiled, forgetting all about last night as you pulled the hair tie from his hair. He stirred, settling moments later when you passed your hand through his hair. Your fingers rubbed along his scalp, massaging his head.

“Morning,” he mumbles, pressing a kiss to your stomach. He kicked the blanket off of him, “it's hot.”

“Power turned back on.”

He shifts, laying beside you and pulling you into his side. “I’m sorry about last night.”

“Mhm hm, I know.” Your fingers dragged along his shirt. Erling looked down at you, “are you?”

“Am I what?”

“Sorry,” he says, like it's obvious.

“No,” you joked, smiling at him. Erling knows you were, you don’t really do emotions or say sorry but he knows you are.

He laughs, kissing your forehead.“Shall we go get breakfast?”

You groan, burying your face in his side. “We have to take two cars.” “Oh and move the tree.” He reminds you, making you groan again.

---

taglist: @thesnailus @alwaysclassyeagle @kylianswag

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#erling haaland #erling haaland x you #erling haaland x reader #erling haaland x y/n #erling haaland imagine #erling haaland fanfic #erling haaland fluff #football x reader #football x you #football x y/n #football imagine #football fic #football fanfic

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kriffingstars · 11 months

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Johhny MacTavish; Price's hands are tied, for now

pairing: Johnny MacTavish x Price!Reader summary: Price doesn't know how to keep you away from a very charismatic scotsman who definitely has the hots for you warnings: verrrrrry slight age gap (I imagine reader to be around 20, Johnny is 26), drinking a/n: I hope you enjoy this anon, I'm excited for Reader to meet the rest of the 141 squad eventually!

Price's Niece Masterlist

Naafi: It's what the bar area in the bases are called. The nicer ones usually have a pool table, maybe darts, and drinks are normally pretty cheap.

Johnny texts you back straight away - so you have his number he says.

The next few weeks of his leave are spent on and off texting him and it's not like you can hide this from your Uncle. He gives you a warning look whenever your phone chimes.

"Relax, we're just friends. He says hello by the way," you add, your smile mirroring his in the way your cheeks scrunch slightly.

"Yeah, that's what I'm worried about," he grumbles, going about the kitchen as he makes himself a brew. Maybe it isn't too early for a whisky?

Johnny pops in to see the both of you on his way back to base, with the excuse that it's a long drive and breaking up the journey is easier. Price knows full well he's driven in much more uncomfortable vehicles for much longer when they've been away.

But they're not away right now, and there's no way he can justify not letting Johnny come round to his niece.

When they're finally back on base things seem to be going back to normal. They're all busy (maybe that's because Price keeps it this way) and finding time to text you, for either of them, is few and far between.

Price starts to relax a little, there's been no mention of you from Soap and you haven't mentioned him either, not the he comes up in the mundane conversation between the two of you.

Usually, you reminding him not to spend hours in his office pouring over paperwork, like he does when he's at home and him checking in on you, making sure you're remembering to eat in between working on your assignments.

It's not until he does actually heed your warning and spends his evening in the Naafi with the lads that his alarm bells really start ringing.

In between pints and banter, Soap is continually checking his phone. It's vibrating in his pocket every few minutes or so and he's quickly smiling at the device and firing off a response.

It's Gaz who's the first of them to say anything.

"Someone caught your eye on leave or something? You've been on that thing all night," he teases, as Soap's eyes widen, a light flush on his ears.

Price perks up at that, he's not stupid. He knows it's likely you're the mystery sender. It's frustrating, he can't tell you who you can and can't be friends with, but there's a niggling feeling that despite your insistence that you just get along with the man, that something else is brewing.

"Aye, something like that. Just a friend though." he coughs, avoiding eye contact with Price completely.

Confirmation. It is you. Your texts are a lot more regular than the 'every now and again' you said they were before he left.

"Good for you man, must be a godsend to put up with you though,"

They laugh, as the conversation moves on. The rest of the night is fairly nondescript. Just the usual banter and chatter fill the evening until Ghost begins to bid his good evenings, heading back to the bunks.

Gaz gathers the empty glasses, quickly taking them back to the bar, before chatting to whoever was bartending that night.

"I'm not saying anything."

That's all Price needs to put the fear of god in Soap, he doesn't need to say any more to get the message across, loud and clear. Don't get involved, don't take this too far.

That night Price lies awake, mind running through all the ways he can nip this in the bud. He can't tell either of you to stop, what he can do, is make sure Soap has a lot less time to be talking to you.

Over the next couple of days, he gives Soap the job of inventorying the entire armoury. It's tedious, boring and most of all time-consuming. Every weapon and piece of equipment needs to be carefully dismantled, examined, cleaned, and put back together, before logging on the ancient computer that crashes every twenty minutes or so.

You don't hear much from either of them, until you get a call from your Uncle, just as you're sitting down to eat.

Dinner abandoned, you fill him in on how uni is going, you're currently on your early Italian module, and thinking about trying to get some work experience over the summer in Florence.

"I'm sorry I haven't called more, sweetheart. We've been up to our eyeballs in admin."

It's okay you promise him, as long as he's not working ridiculously late into the night.

This pattern continues for the next few days and the other guys are starting to pick up that something is going on. Soap's been getting a lot of the tasks that some of the less experienced guys usually do.

Price uses that as his excuse, muttering something along the lines of, "If you want it done properly, you need to do it yourself."

Or send the guy that you're trying to keep away from your niece.

It doesn't come to a head until Ghost knocks on his office door, one afternoon.

And he asks, and reluctantly Price divulges a bit more information.

"Soap's been distracted recently, he needs to get his head in the game, Lieutenant."

He knows he can't carry on with this, he's letting his, and now their, private life interfere with work, but he doesn't know what else he can do. He can't give Soap a bollocking for something he hasn't done yet, and he knows better than speaking to you about the matter.

You'd be a good officer he thinks, as you diplomatically shut down his attempts to bring up your budding friendship.

That night is spent sipping on the whisky from the bottom draw of his desk, and nursing one of his favourite cigars.

#john mactavish x reader #john mactavish headcannon #johnny mctavish x reader #johnny mactavish headcannon #john mctavish x reader #soap mactavish #soap x reader #soap mactavish x price!reader #cod mw soap #price!niece!reader

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lavender-romancer · 10 months

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Deceiver

Part Seven Tommy Shelby x Reader CW: slow burn, arguing

You've been involved with the Peaky Blinders business for a few years now, undiscovered as a woman posing as a man. Now the Shelby boys have grown suspicious of you and want you found out.

an: set in season one

”*°•.˜”*°•. ˜”*°•. ˜”*°••°*”˜.•°*”˜.•°*”˜.•°*”˜

previous part

As you stirred awake you looked up, there were a considerable amount of cobwebs on the support beam running through the center of your room. Their delicate intricacies were illuminated by a stream of morning sunlight through your curtains. It was so beautiful but your mood this morning just made you want to dust it all away. Today was Cheltenham.

One comfort of this awful day was that you could take some aggression out on some Lee boys, whilst Tommy would be prancing around with Grace doing fuck knows what. No, you had to try and control your anger on the subject. It wasn't worth all your thoughts and anyways you had to meet Arthur, John and Johnny.

"Eddie," Arthur yelled, getting your attention in the dockyard, "What's our mission?"

"To fucking stick it to the Lee boys!" You announced with a smirk towards John.

"That's right. The Lees are skimming money off legal bookies. Running chalk, selling rafflers, beating up bookies. But today, we're going to stop them." Arthur raised his stick, "Anyone with a gun, we won't be using it unless it's pulled on you. Take what you have, whatever it is. Let's fuck up the Lee boys, lads!"

You all loaded into a van, with you, Arthur and John in the front. It was 60 miles to Cheltenham and no matter how much you talked to the boys, all you could think about was Tommy and Grace in a car together. No matter how much Arthur hammered the point of this being 'Tommys Army' you struggled to get excited when you knew you wanted to be the pretty blonde girl dancing with him in a nice new outfit. Not that you'd want to wear a dress but-fuck- you were so insanely jealous of the barmaid you didn't know what to do with yourself.

Even when Tommy reassured you that there was nothing between him and Grace, all you could see was them kissing in the light of the bar when you opened the room to the booth. How did you get here? Obsessed with a man who couldn't or wouldn't commit to you, you were more likely to grow old with Thomas as his friend or mistress.

Looking out of the window the shouting coming from the boys faded into white noise. Closing your eyes you saw Tommy's smile. You didn't want to be his friend, you didn't want to wait forever but you knew he should be with her because you couldn't compete. It wasn't as if you could blame Grace for it all anymore, she was a convenient scapegoat but not one that made sense. There was something between Tommy and Grace that he wouldn't admit to you, and you couldn't blame him. It wasn't anything new, you often had to separate your life and the possibility of love.

Love doesn't last the way respect and job security do, it can be fickle and easily betrayed which were eventualities you couldn't afford. You were used to being alone, but you weren't used to being as vulnerable as you would be if you ever lived your life as a woman.

Tommy was dancing with Grace, their bodies close and moving in time with one another. He did keep looking over at Kimber's table but couldn't help but feel Grace's body against his. She was an easy choice, a safe one. There were no complications he knew of, she was beautiful and wanted him. But you. He dreamt of you. He had to stop himself from seeing you every single night. There was such an undeniable magnetism between the two of you that Tommy struggled to justify considering choosing Grace over you. There were complications but who gave a fuck about that?

He dipped Grace in the choreography of the lively dance and she smiled, it was so ridiculously beautiful. Tommy couldn't help but smile slightly back, pulling her back up. She laughed softly and Tommy bowed his head so he wouldn't laugh in return. There was a part of him that wanted to kiss her, wanted to fuck her and move on from there. He craved immediate gratification and Tommy couldn't seem to let you give that to him. The lust feeling was intoxicating, being able to look you up and down but knowing he wouldn't take it any further. Even when he was drunk he only kissed your hand, it was pathetic. But Tommy wanted you to understand how deeply he cared for you, that he didn't want to just fuck you and leave it at that. But Tommy failed to explain this to you and it led to a horrific case of crossed wires.

You'd got the stolen money off all Lees boys by this point chased them off the track and down to Devon road, they were long gone, some by persuasion, most by force…. But realistically it came with the territory of a blinder, cut off an ear here, punch someone in the face there. It would be on the job description.

"We need to get this all back to Tommy." Arthur said, holding the 7 napsacks over his shoulder as you, him and John stood under a stairwell and smoked.

"I'll take it." You said all too quickly and the brothers snickered.

"Someone wants to see his man." John smirked and you rolled your eyes.

"Don't get too jealous of Grace." Arthur couldn't stifle his laughter as he handed the napsack to you, the two of them keeling over laughing with jokes about you and Tommy. You just snatched the bags and walked up the stairwell to the agreed meeting point.

Seeing Tommy poke his head around the door and smile at you sent a warm feeling around your whole body. It only seemed to dissipate when you saw Grace, you dropped the bags at his feet and glanced at her before going back to Tommy.

"Any problems?" Tommy asked, looking you up and down without letting Grace see.

"None. We got it all back and ran the Lee boys off the tracks. A few cuts and bruises but nothing major." You smiled at him and the two of you took a moment, just looking at one another lovingly before snapping out of it.

"Get Arthur to buy all the boys a pint, I'll see you later." He gave you a smirk before you shut the door.

Standing on the other side of the door, you almost jumped up and down from the way he looked at you. The man looked like he wanted to rip everything off you and take you right then and there. It was impossible to forget, even when you were sitting back in the Garrison a few hours later. Every so often you'd take a sip of your beer, but mostly you stared into space and thought of his eyes.

"Now, should I guess who you're daydreaming about or just come out and say it?" John laughed and sat next to you at the bar.

"You can keep your mouth shut," you smiled, "What do you think of Grace?" You asked after a pause.

"Great set of legs." John raised an eyebrow.

"No, idiot. I mean, she doesn't seem suspicious to you, comes out of nowhere trying to help with the business and now she's working for us all because she's a liar? Seems odd." You shrugged.

"Think you're just being paranoid and a little bit jealous. Personally I don't think she really does much, has no excitement in her life, this gives her some shit to do." John took a drink of his pint and lit a cigarette.

"When she is finally found out for being a deceiver, we'll only have men and their cocks to thank." You said, exasperated with John. How he could immediately assume you were jealous without a second thought. "If you didn't know I was a woman would you still question me like this or just take it at face value?" You said close to his ear before walking out of the door.

You were sick of the teasing, you had tried to tell yourself that they didn't treat you differently but it wasn't true. They just saw you as some sort of scorned woman, who wasn't capable of thinking straight. You weren't being jealous. Were you? No, she was suspicious and it didn't make sense that she came out of nowhere. Walking in the chill of night your chest heaved, what could she and Tommy possibly be doing? Was it all fooling him as well? Your brain felt so foggy it was impossible to think straight, all you wanted was to get home.

Tommy was sitting on the doorstep in front of your house and in the moment you just wanted to run up and kiss him. His face was so beautifully lit by the moonlight, with a slight smile on his lips he looked so pretty. But, instead you walked past him and unlocked your front door, leaving it ajar for him. You walked straight up to your room to unbind your chest, it had been an extremely long day.

After changing into a looser fitting men shirt you went back downstairs and found Tommy with two glasses of whisky in hand sitting on the settee. You gratefully sat down next to him and took the glass, whilst the whisky you owned was a shocking quality it still took the edge off more than a pint.

"How did today go?" He asked you.

"We got all the money, if that's what you mean." You directed a polite slightly unfeeling smile in his direction, our head felt like it was going to burst open with anger because of how John had spoken to you. "How was Grace?"

"She did her job. Looked pretty and danced with Kimber." Was all that he said, you couldn't help but assume ther was more he could say about her but didn't. You just sat holding the glass in your lap and looking down at the liquid through the crystal shapes in the glass. It was so distorted that staring at it this closely was giving you a headache. You placed the glass back on the table in front of you with a slight clink and returned to your position. Hands in your lap, looking down at them in silence because you didn't know what to say. Didn't know the right thing to say without coming off as jealous. Because regardless of what the Shelby boys said about your apparent jealousy, Tommy's connection with Grace just made you sad. You wanted the day out at the races, the hurried sexual favours in a side room, the openness in society.

At this point whilst you considered growing your hair out and stopping binding your chest, what would be the point if the person you were doing it for couldn't commit? He claimed that he would die for you but he was happy to kiss Grace, happy to fade into a silhouette of nothing as she stifled his light. He wouldn't commit to you whilst he still wanted to get his dick wet and not give you the time to be in society as a woman at your own pace. The silence was pounding in your ears, consuming your body in a cold blanket of insecurity. You could only think about how he could be normal with Grace, live a normal life. It would be boring and he might not be happy but it would be normal.

"Y/n?" Tommy said softly and you nodded in acknowledgement. "What's going on?" He asked in a confused tone.

"I just… I don't know why you're wasting your time with me. Maybe wasting is the wrong word, but you only have so long in this life and I don't know if we can give eachother what the other needs." Your eyes were hurting with the amount you were straining them so you didn't cry.

"Do you want me?” He said, making it sound so simple and you brought your eyes up to his- so much emotion and hurt was shown with this one look that Tommy felt taken aback, had he hurt you? "If you want me, then we give each other what the other needs."

"I don't want to be someone you can't commit to." You said quietly, looking back at your hands in your lap. "You're going to forget about me and marry someone without all the complications. Someone like Grace is perfect for you."

"I've told you before that Grace is not your concern." Was all he said and you couldn't help but scoff.

"Alright Tommy. You can stay to finish the bottle if you really want to, but I don't know if there's anything else for us to talk about now." You stood up and looked at him with tearful eyes. Why couldn't he understand how you felt about him, why couldn't he understand how deeply you cared for him?

"Y/n," he said in a soft tone and you bit the inside of your cheek to stop the tears from flowing.

"What else is there to say?" You asked quietly.

"Nothing happened." He paused. "Between me and Grace, since that night when you saw…" you got a horrific flashback of seeing Grace and Tommy kissing.

"But you still don't want to commit to me do you." It wasn't even really a question, more of a statement.

"Why do you assume that?" He placed his glass on the table in front of him next to yours, they were closer than the two of you felt right now.

"Because of how you act, Thomas and because I know you. You don't want a complicated personal life when your business life's complicated enough." You held your forearm with your other hand, feeling insecure in front of a Tommy that seemed more vulnerable.

"You've never asked me to commit to you, not in those words anyways." Tommy stood up and took a step towards you, your eyes were fixed on a point on the floor where the wood was cracked and splintering. "I've wanted you for years now. Ever since I met you it's been the same, there's always been something."

“If I finally live as myself I lose all independence, if you leave me after I live as a woman I won't have any agency! You don't understand how much anxiety that creates for this whole situation, it's not just about fucking feelings.” You paused and ran a hand down your face, tears forming in your eyes, “It's about the rights I have over myself, men won't treat me the same, I'll never be viewed the same by anyone. I'll never be able to walk home alone without being scared, I'll be posing as someone I've never been! I've lived this way for so long it's comfortable, and unless you can prove that you want only me then-”

“Y/n,” Tommy held your shoulders in both of his hands, “you can dress however you want, have the same job, fuck, you can get a better paid one in the company. You'll still be my right hand person regardless of how you live. I've never been able to control you and I don't intend to try and start. There has always been a part of my soul connected to yours, Y/n.” You were still looking at the splintered wood.

“How much room in your soul do you have when you desire two people?” You sounded malicious and honestly it wasn't intentional because most of what Tommy spouted sounded like lip service to get you to be complacent.

“What?” He asked, his hands falling from your shoulders.

“You heard what I said,” you walked past Tommy and sat down on the sofa, pouring yourself another poor quality whiskey. After downing two glasses your throat burned in a satisfying way that distracted you from your head.

“Why do you think I'm here? Practically begging you to give me some time.” He let out a long sigh.

“You feel the same way I feel about you about her. I know that's what is really in your soul. Even though she doesn't love you, she isn't truthful, she's so deceitful but you can't see past your hard cock long enough to realise. You fucking know I'm in love with you, I'm convinced you've known it the whole time. But it's more exciting to string two people along than commit to anyone. You can perpetuate your tortured heart narrative and everyone feels sorry for you, well I don't care anymore. Do whatever you fucking want, fuck her, fuck me. Everything's controlled by you and you love it.” You picked up the bottle of whiskey and started drinking straight from it. Leaving Tommy to stand there not knowing what to do. The two of you existed in a sort of social limbo for a few minutes before Tommy sat down next to you and you offered him the whiskey bottle.

”*°•.˜”*°•. ˜”*°•. ˜”*°••°*”˜.•°*”˜.•°*”˜.•°*”˜

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radiant-reid · 2 years

Text

The Right Person

request:

things spencer would say to his ex who’s his ex but not really his ex bc their hearts always belong to the other but is actually his ex bc they called it quits but just bc it’s over doesn’t mean it’s really over cuz he’s just: last slide

Summary: Right person, wrong time... at least until there's a part two

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader (angst, sort of)

Content Warning: a tiny spicy moment

Word Count: 3.3k

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Spencer has always jumped into things too quickly. It's the cocktail of being a romantic, coming from a broken home, failing with most social relationships, and the desperate need for a family.

So when Y/n came along, all smiles and beauty, he moved too fast. Fell is probably a more accurate verb. He fell in love so quickly without any logic that he couldn't help proposing a year in and marrying her six months later.

She offered him support and unconditional love. And for the first time in a tough five years in the FBI, he felt like the world wasn't completely terrible.

The whirlwind relationship would have been much better if taken slowly. It might have even worked out. With their fast pace, neither of them could keep up and after four years, trying to make it work wasn't worth it. The therapy, fights, and long periods without speaking wasted time and drained them both emotionally.

It was like fire. Hot and heavy or warm and comforting, but they were destined for a burn.

Sure, they loved each other more than anything, and they would forever argue that they're soulmates and the timing was at fault.

When Beatrice was nine months old, it was clear things wouldn't, so for her sake, Spencer moved out, the fighting stopped, and they could be friends.

For three months, they've been doing well with their co-parenting routine. Since Spencer had spent so much time away during their marriage, Y/n didn't have to get over the feeling of loss.

Maybe some of that could be accounted for by the fact it still felt like they were dating, the magnetism between them still volatile.

It's Saturday when Y/n's baking in the kitchen. She's yet to enquire about selling it, probably because they're yet to properly get divorced. Somehow, it doesn't feel weird for her to live in their marital home. She ignores how little it feels like they're broken up, especially when she's eagerly anticipating him coming home back from a case. He's not even coming to see her, but she's changed out of her pajamas and put makeup on.

"Guess who?" A voice says while the matching fingers block her vision.

If she didn't know that voice like the back of her hand, she would have freaked out. "You're so close to losing your key, Spencer Walter Reid."

He pulls his hands away, resting his back against the bench with his body facing her. "Boring answer. I would have accepted sexy ex or the smartest man alive." He says, smiling his perfect wide smile.

He looks good, a golden glow still surrounding him, and his shirt fits him tightly around his muscles. She's allowed to say that as his eventual ex-wife, right? It's more of a compliment to herself for attracting attractive, intelligent men. That's how she justifies it anyway.

"Who's been inflating your ego, loser?" She teases.

Repartee of their level is something no one else could ever offer him, and he cringes when other people try. "Jealous?" He asks.

Yes, she is. She'd love to shower him with compliments. Tell him about how nice his hair looks a little bit longer, how he should wear more light blue because it really is his color, how good he smells, and some less innocent things as well. The jealousy boils in her at the thought of someone else doing that. Still, she resists.

"That someone else has to vacate the bathroom for hours each day so you can do your hair? No." She lies. It's a lie on all levels.

Unimportantly, he doesn't spend that long in the bathroom, and he's about the furthest thing from a narcissist there is, but deeply, she would jump at the opportunity to be locked out of the bathroom while he spends far too long in the shower and be greeted with the gorgeous sight of a towel wrapped around his hips and his chest showing.

"Okay." He lets it go, and it annoys her that he won't believe the time. "Can I have some cookie dough?"

"Say please." She directs.

He pouts too much like Beatrice. "Please." He complies before opening her mouth.

She frowns, unsure if he seriously wants her to hand-feed him cookie dough. The answer is yes because he doesn't shut his mouth and tell her it's a joke. She scoops some up, putting her fingers into his mouth. He doesn't let them sneak out without wrapping his lips. It's suggestive, and it doesn't disgust her.

"You'll get salmonella." She tells him when he finally lets her fingers out of his mouth. She tries not to blush like mad while she wipes her fingers on a kitchen towel.

"You'll have to look after me then," Spencer says, justifying it. "As the person who gave it to me."

She shakes her head. "Gross."

"Why are you baking on a Saturday?" He asks, raising an eyebrow at her. He's suspicious whenever things change in her behavior, more so than anyone else's.

"I'm anticipating being busy tomorrow." She answers ambiguously.

It was on purpose, but the goal wasn't to make him curious and ask more questions. She just wasn't jumping at the opportunity to hear his opinion on her love life.

Unfortunately, his curiosity peaked when she started speaking. "Why?" She mumbles out an answer that he doesn't catch. "Come on, don't be shy."

"I'm going on a date." She says finally, avoiding looking at him.

That knocks him off guard, the smile slipping from his face as he steps back. Quickly, he forces himself to say something recoverable to hide the hurt and shock he's feeling at the unexpected news. "Does he know you're married?"

He knows he has no right to be upset about it. Not only are they not exclusive, but they're, in no way, romantically involved. It's why there's no bite in his words, nothing vicious in his tone.

It hits him harder with every passing second. Her statement is something he never expected, and questioning why that is while standing in the middle of their kitchen with her in a beautiful new top, yeah, it's gut-wrenching.

She holds up her bare left hand, shed of a wedding ring. "He doesn't, no."

"What's his name?" Spencer asks next. There are a million questions on his mind, but he keeps the conversation casual.

"Bradley."

She feels guilty for it, unsure if it's cheating guilt or mom guilt, and she's forced to constantly remind herself that it's okay, she's allowed to say yes when she gets asked out and be swept away by someone else.

His next move, to her, seems predictable. Whenever he's looking for more information, he stays quiet, waiting for her to feel awkward enough to elaborate. Even though she used to read him like an open book, she can't see that he's processing, replaying their worst moments-the moments that led them here- in his head.

She keeps talking, annoyed that his old trick is working when really she's just breaking his heart more. "He's a defense attorney, but he accidentally took my coffee the other day."

Spencer resists the urge to scoff because 'accidentally.' He's seen Morgan use the move a hundred times: pretend to mix up the coffees, apologize, and seal the deal by asking if he can make it up to her. "Switching teams, I see." He interrupts, predominantly so that he doesn't have to hear anything else. "And a new top." He mentions. Again, a tactic to get her to stop talking. "What color is it? It would look really nice as a feature wallpaper."

He does that, too, only complimenting things adjacent to her. Talking about fucking interior design instead of just saying she looks nice pushes her buttons, and she knows where his are.

"Yeah, I was wearing a jacket in a similar color, so I'm hoping it's a subliminal message." She admits. "Plus he's tall and very attractive.”

Spencer wants to scream something along the lines of 'I'm 6'1, I have three PhDs, you've told me I'm handsome after you held my hair up while I puked after drinking far too much, and I'm so goddamn in love with you,' but he can barely admit the last fact to himself.

"So he's got brown curly hair and sparkling brown eyes?" Spencer teases her, and she rolls her eyes. That dumb eidetic memory would never let him forget the descriptors she'd given him, and his cocky attitude would never stop mentioning it. "It's not your fault you have a type. Scientifically-"

"Shh." She requests, pressing her finger to his lips.

Without thinking about it, like it was second nature, Spencer purses his lips and kisses her skin. After letting it linger for a moment, she takes it away and turns back to what she's doing.

Again, he draws her attention back to him, cupping the cheek furthest away from him and turning her face to look at him. Once she is, eyes locked on his, he holds her other cheek. He steps forward so that he's so close to her that her breath gets trapped in her throat.

Those fingers on her skin make her feel things she shouldn't be feeling, and her heart starts to thump in her chest when she sneaks a glance at those beautiful veins. Maybe her skin is hot or maybe his fingers are just cold but the contrast sends shivers all over her. It's hard not to think about all the times they've been inside her or how they look wrapped around his cock as he lines himself up with her sex.

"Y/n, if he lays a hand on you, I swear to god." He says threateningly, and it would worry her if she didn't know him so well and if it wasn't so hot.

"You don't believe in god." She calls him out, raising her eyebrows in challenge.

"I can find anyone, anywhere." She can't debate that. "And if he lays a hand on you, I'll kill him or put him in jail for the rest of his life. Your choice."

He's acting like he's doing her a favor, letting her decide how he'll hurt someone who hurts her. It's an odd declaration to be making, contradictory to every bit of his sweet nature, and she doesn't hate it.

"What if I ask- beg for it?" She questions him.

"Oh, I'm not worried about that." He's really not.

He would do immoral things that would make him lose his job and even go to jail if someone hurt her, but the deep feelings he's disgusting as an overprotective bravado against someone assaulting her is really just because he can't stand the thought of someone else being with her.

He's not worried about it sexually. She might be anticipating not being home for the night, but she's not the type to ask a first date to get rough with her. What's got him on edge is her being someone else's emotionally. They might be telling everyone they're not together, but if her heart belongs to someone else, there's no chance of him getting her back, and that's all he wants.

His lips are so close that she could kiss him, but the magnetism makes it challenging to resist. She yearns for the feeling of warm lips against hers, more specifically, the pretty pink ones she's peeking at.

They've had slips before. It's been three weeks since their last one. Every time, she swears she won't do it again, but she's ready to tear his clothes off and fuck him in the kitchen.

She's daring him to make that dangerous leap, and he's about to.

The cries of a woken-up one-year-old through the baby monitor snap them back into a harsh reality before their lips can touch. They both wonder if it's horrid that they forgot why he's there. Spencer lingers for a moment with her face in his hands before he breaks away from her painfully.

"I'll go." He says, leaving her standing there stunned with cheeks hot and a pounding heart.

She has a moment to recover, but it's not enough, and soon Spencer's back in the room with the sweetest baby in his arms. She's giggling, clinging to her dad, who she loves dearly. If Y/n didn't love Beatrice wholeheartedly, she'd be jealous she wasn't enough for Spencer to spend time with. But she can't be. Not when Bea has the greatest dad in the entire world, and she deserves every inch of his love.

"Kiss momma." Spencer directs, holding her up to Y/n's cheek.

She plants a kiss that's mostly saliva on her mom, and despite how messy it is, it makes Y/n grin. "How'd you sleep, baby?" She asks, knowing they'll be no reply. Her vocabulary is limited to three words: mom, dad, and love.

"Not so well last night," Spencer answers like it was intended for him.

He sits on a bar stool at the kitchen island, sitting Bea in his lap. "Spencer," Y/n warns, glaring at him.

"Your mom's mad at me." He stage-whispers to Bea. "I never know why."

"Should we start with lying to a child?" She wonders, but it's playful, not insulting. "Add in some pesky comments."

Spencer pouts, holding Bea up so she can see it and copy her father. "Oh, she loves them." He assures her. "And I love you. So much."

Y/n smiles in adoration. He might be difficult to be in love with, but he's the best dad ever. Spencer catches her staring, it's pretty obvious when the bowl of cookie dough sits abandoned on the counter.

"You look so similar." She says, trying to prevent the awkward since and slightly too romantic looks.

"Need another one to look like you?" He jokes, or maybe it's an offer. She can't really tell.

She scoffs, shaking her head. "I'm alright, thanks."

"But she's so perfect." He coos, her entire hand holding his pinky finger. "How could you not want another one?"

She chuckles at his baby fever. It is practically impossible to not want another child when theirs is so incredible, but they're only masochistic towards each other.

"Don't go getting random girls pregnant, Spencer." She jokingly advises him.

“I’m only ever going to get one girl pregnant.” He tells her.

He’s messy. In fact, they’re messy together, and he can’t keep his dick in his pants, but it’s not a problem he has with anyone else.

"That's possibly very nice." She says, frowning as she tries to figure him out.

"You're lucky." He rephrases.

She laughs, shaking her head. "You're lucky I don't kick you out now."

"Whoa, I get it." He teases. "It's someone's time to get lucky, hang a sock on the door and all that."

"I highly doubt you got any in college." She reminds him.

"Or now." He adds.

It should be weird. Who casually discusses sex with an ex?

"Yeah, I noticed one of your hands seems stronger than the other." She quips, although there's no discernable difference. They're both equally delicious.

"Mm, reminds me, I need more lotion." He mentions, playing along with the joke. "Vanilla, right?"

She fake-gags. "That's literally disgusting." She chides. "Do not go and get the same lotion I have to jack off."

He shrugs casually. "It's a free country."

"You're disturbing." She reiterates, reminding herself he said it to get her flustered.

"Don't flirt with me like that, or I might start thinking you like me." He warns, fluttering his eyelids at her.

She does feel like she's falling in love all over again with him when it's all flirting and comfortable.

"You'd be begging if I was flirting." She assures him, and it's true. Spencer begs like no one else.

"Alright, I think that's time to go." He decides, clicking his tongue and looking at Bea again. "Your mom's too into me for her own good."

That is hitting the nail on the head. She's into him and she always will be, but it's not wise, and it compromises her self-respect time and time again.

He gets up, bouncing Bea on his hip and walking around the bench. She leans forward to kiss her happy baby before playing with her soft hair. "Just admit you lost, Spencer." She tells him.

A little grin lights up his features as he refuses to comply with her directions. "I never lose." Oh, except for his one true chance at happiness and a family with the most remarkable woman in the world.

"Those beautiful big brains." She coos, moving her hand to his hair to part his curls properly.

"I'm sure yours are equally, if not more, beautiful." He says, once again making her stomach slip with the eye contact. "Smaller of course."

She scoffs out a laugh. "Bye." She says. "Her bag's in the hall."

"When do you want her back?" Spencer asks, holding the baby up so her cheeks can be kissed an obscene amount of time.

Their custody arrangement is nonexistent. With Spencer's hectic schedule and their good relationship, there's never been a need to make it official. Bea's always his priority when he's in the District, and that keeps Y/n happy.

Not fully happy. She'd like to see Bea, and her dad, every day, and she's too far from that with the latter Reid to ever be completely satisfied with her life. Months later, she's still convincing herself she can one day not look at him and wish for something unrealistic.

"Whenever." She says. They start walking towards the front door, slowly, both lingering and dragging it out. "If you need to go, you can bring her back."

"If you're in the middle of a date?" He wonders cheekily, grabbing Bea's bag from the floor.

She glares at him, not finished with her sentence. "Otherwise, I'll text you."

"Call." He insists. "We're not texting people."

"Fine." She agrees, swinging open the door. She takes Bea into her arms, giving her a tight hug. "Love you, sweet baby."

"Mom, love," Bea mumbles back, placing her hands on Y/n's cheeks.

Spencer gets the sinking feeling in his chest that he always gets leaving, but it's worse when he's taking Bea, who's Y/n's entire world. It makes him feel nauseating amounts of guilt. How can he be okay with putting her through the loneliness of a house that big being empty?

He smiles at her as he takes Bea back. "Thank you."

She not sure what for and she doesn't have a chance to ask before he's walking out the door, strapping Bea in her car seat. She waves at her mom, looking as happy as always.

Spencer stops before he gets in his seat. "Y/n?"

"Yeah?" She asks, straightening up her posture.

She's hoping he'll say what she wants to hear, although she doesn't know what that is. A Spencer fact would keep things simple, but saying something about how they can get back on track, that she shouldn't go out tonight, would ruin their carefully stacked house of cards.

"He's a lucky guy." He says, and it kills him to know that it used to be him taking her out, watching her grin from across the table, making her laugh until she's begging him to stop, driving home with his hand on her thigh, watching her take off her makeup and become more beautiful, and ending up cuddling in bed, their baby just a room over.

And he can't ever have that again, not with her, and he can't fathom it with someone else.

Y/n goes back inside once he's driven away, hoping for once, after he leaves, that she can not think about him.

It doesn't work. As always, she's stuck thinking about Spencer.

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haveyouseenthisskeleton · 4 months

Note

So skelies with a teenage daughter who is just chilling in the living room then door bell rings there daughter looks through the window then scurries off to get there dad to hopefully scare the person off once they open door it's a guy with a bouquet of flowers there daughter immediately takes out her phone clicks on a file with pictures of the same guy with other girls (clearly cheating) and shows there dad and proceeds to tell them that the guy right in front of them is a cheater and a loser and that they cheated on there bestie with there cousin.... If skelies ask how they got that information they just reply with "we have our ways" how would each skeleton react to that and how would they handle the guy at the door

Undertale Sans - He asks you what you want to do. You two can just play dead and leave the door closed you know. If you really want him to go though, he's going to be brutally honest with the guy telling him you don't want him near again and to please leave now. He doesn't want to intrude on his daughter's life so he lets them deal with the rest. If you need more help, you know where to find him.

Undertale Papyrus - He tells the guy you're not here before telling him what he's doing is not ok and to properly lecture them about this. He also informs the guy that the flowers he chose are really bad and to please learn the symbolism behind the flowers because even he is embarrassed for that guy.

Underswap Sans - He goes to open the door in his police officer suit and watches with a big smile as the guy immediately starts to panic and tries to justify why they're here. Blue doesn't say a word the entire time, eventually, the guy apologizes for no reason and runs away. Blue usually doesn't like to scare people with his uniform, but oh well, it's a little satisfying sometimes.

Underswap Papyrus - Well obviously the both of you are not home and you know what, you will be even less home the seconds he teleports the both of you to that attraction park near the beach so you can stop thinking about that idiot. Honey shortcuts the both of you for a fun day to forget this little accident.

Underfell Sans - He tells his baby to not worry about this then opens the door, making sure to look threatening and not happy to be bothered. "ya have the money kid?" "The m-money?" "ya're here for the drug right? where's my money?" He then jubilates as the teenager starts to apologize and retreat, more and more distressed as Red keeps pushing his little game, even threatening him if he dares to come back. You're not seeing that man ever again lol.

Underfell Papyrus - It's ok, he knows the power of his scary face. He assures his daughter he got this, then simply opens the door, welcoming the teenager with one of his best death glares. The poor guy doesn't even know what to say anymore as Edge is simply staring him down in complete silence, the face completely shut down, in a severe expression. He won't have to say anything actually as the teenager apologizes, says that he had the wrong house and immediately leaves lol.

Horrortale Sans - All he hears is that his precious baby is scared and that's because of that man behind the door. Despite Willow running from the kitchen to stop him when he notices his change of expression, Oak opens the door and lunges at the teenager who immediately runs for his life, chased by a very pissed-off Oak on all four, chased himself by a panicking Willow begging him to calm down.

Horrortale Papyrus - He screams throught the door to leave because he won't open. The teenager still insists so Willow opens the goose enclosure and lets his favorite guard birds take care of the intruder. Not five minutes later, the poor guy retreated into a tree, screaming for help, surrounded by 20 angry geese who are waiting for him to come down.

Swapfell Sans - He calmly opens the door, looks at the man from head to toe with a disgusted expression, says "Ew, no." and closes the door to their face, never opening it again. He agrees with you, that man doesn't deserve you.

Swapfell Papyrus - At first, Rus hoped the man would leave, but since they insisted, he went upstairs, picked a big bucket of slime, and then threw it by the window, right on the guy's face. He then chuckles and watches the show as the poor teenager starts to scream and struggle against the slime. He even invites his daughter to watch how pathetic that is.

Fellswap Gold Sans - It's ok, sweetie, he got you. He opens the door, puts his gun on the head of the teenager, says calmly that if he sees him ever again they're going to lose their brain and then casually closes the door to their face. Anyway, do you want a new luxury car to make them so jealous they're going to cry like a baby? He can do that!

Fellswap Gold Papyrus - Coffee picks your hand and drags you to his closet. You know what some people say, right? If you don't see the problem anymore, then the problem doesn't exist anymore. As long as you don't leave the closet, that guy does not exist, and when you get out with him eventually, the situation will have magically resolved itself. Trust him, he's a specialist in that.

#undertale #underswap #underfell #horrortale #swapfell #fellswap gold #sans #papyrus #undertale ask blog #undertale asks #undertale imagines #undertale headcanons

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httpjungkookcom · 2 years

Text

Wobbly Legs | JJK (m)

Pairing | Jungkook x Reader

Word Count | 7K-ish

Genre | Idol! Jungkook x "Man Eater”! Reader, Established Relationship Now (Excitinggg!!!)

Summary | Jungkook's never shy when asking you to try new things because he knows you'll never judge him, never laugh at him. (With malicious intent anyways.) That doesn't mean he's not nervous, hiding and ducking his head the entire time with a giant blush spread across his face while he's asking. With a bit of coaxing, Jungkook finally spits it out. Unknowingly, he's more in for it than he even realizes.

Index | pegging!!!, sexual content, dirty talking, Jungkook still gets praised a lot, fingering (male and female receiving), oral (male receiving), sub! Jk, bottom! jk, overstimulation, hair pulling, jungkook is still shy and flustered around the reader, jungkook in love like never before, makes sure his sweet gf cums like a good little bf, my personal bias for Jungkook’s nose (sue me lol), Reader is feral by the end of this lmao

A/N | Based off of my previous post, Man Eater Hunting. It's a long one, so I'll give you the general gist of it. Jungkook has a fat crush on the reader who happens to be Namjoon’s best friend, the reader thinks he just wants in her pants so she teases him for a while, pinning after each other for 40k words, and eventually proclaim their undying love for one another. In a secure, happy relationship by the end :) (A lot of fucking in between.) If you’d like to read it, it’s still pinned on my blog I believe.

Ever since the both of you’ve gone public with your relationship, Jungkook has been happier than ever. He gets to hold your hand in public, kiss your forehead, hug your waist, and do everything else under the sun without the worry of your lecturing. Your identity is still private, and most media respect it enough to at least not post an unblurred photo of your face. There are still plenty of photos of the both of you unblurred, but you try hard to look on the bright side. While being public means stress and worry for you in terms of media and cameras, seeing Kook be so happy makes the familiar warm feeling when you’re with him spread throughout your chest. The members are also all very supportive, their youngest visibly cheerier even on days he’s tired, worn down, or even lost a Mario Cart round against Taehyung.

You, Namjoon, and Yoongi still have your little group inside the larger group, one that Jungkook’s been trying to invade for the last 3 months. Yoongi constantly kicks him out of your studio, producing party, whatever you wanna call them, nights, claiming it’s a “no boyfriends allowed,” party. Jungkook then gets your favorite food or drink and pouts outside the studio door until you’re all done. Tae and Jimin still take stabs at you and Kook every so often, just enough to start a playful banter but never enough to actually hurt your feelings anymore. Jin has always been supportive and still is if not more. And Hope still takes jabs when he can, more so at Jungkook just to get him going than you. And lastly, Jungkook’s still Jungkook, just as needy as the night you’d met at Joon’s party.

Date night today, mine or your place?

Jungkook’s notification flashes across your screen, phone resting on the kitchen island as you cook dinner. A giant smile spreads across your face before you can even think to stop it, rushing to text him back. You type back with your pinky, other fingers too dirty from the ingredients.

Mine, I’m cooking already :)

Be there in 15.

He’s over in 10 minutes max, softly knocking on your front door. You open it with your elbows, hands held away from anything that doesn’t need seasoning smeared against it. Quickly, you dodge the embrace that you know happens when Jungkook steps into your apartment, hurriedly running off back to the kitchen. “I don’t wanna get your nice shirt all dirty,” You justify your retreat before he even has a chance to ask, you already know it's coming from the soft exhale you just barely caught while running for security.

“That doesn’t mean run away from meeee,” Kook whines back, following your warpath to the kitchen as he wraps his arms around your frame. He’s careful to keep his fingers away from any hot surfaces, taking the opportunity to place his palms on your chest without lecture. Besides that, he’s gone to the world as his face buries itself into your shoulder. “How’s your new job going?” He mumbles against your skin, causing goosebumps to shoot down your spine. Feeling the smirk from him on your skin, the little shit knows exactly what he’s doing. ”My little lead director of communications.”

(Namjoon swears he didn’t put in a good word for you at his company regarding the application, but you’re almost 99% positive he did. You reassure yourself that you deserve to be there by saying the interview went well at least.)

“Everyone’s so nice, you know?” You begin, trying to fight off the laugh that threatens to overflow. “My new nickname is The girl Jeon Jungkook picks up after work, in the office. And sometimes it’s, Doesn’t he have a girlfriend? Is he having an affair?!!” You joke dryly, looking over your shoulder at him. “Because there’s no way we could everrr be in a relationship in this universe.” You chuckle.

At this, Jungkook tries hard not to laugh at your dismay. He doesn’t try very hard, eventually cracking up. “Hey, what can I say? I’m popular.” He cracks, earning him a soft elbow in the ribs that quickly makes him retreat away from you. “Sorry! Sorry! Do you want me to talk to them, and tell them it’s not cool? Or have a staff meeting about bullying and gossip?”

Jungkook is lucky he’s so pretty, you think. This only makes your dismay worse, corners fighting hard to not tug up in a smile at how ridiculous he sounds. “That would make it worse, mom.” You finally crack into a smile, “If you were to go in there and tell them off like I’m 5 years old, I’d put in my two weeks immediately.” You laugh, putting the food onto plates before heading into the living room. This part of your and Jungkook’s routine is almost solid without how many date night-ins you’ve had in recent months. Kook goes for the drinks and utensils before joining you on the couch, clicking on the television.

You can almost hear the cogs turning in his brain. “Or, I can send a strongly worded email.” He adds, sitting down before pulling your legs over his lap. “No, no. I leave a voicemail. that’ll really get ‘em.”

“Koookkk.” Groaning, you can’t help but begin to laugh by the end of it. “I think, and hear me out, don’t get going just yet.” Your hands are held out in front of you. “Maybe, you don’t have to pick me up at my office every day when we leave the building. Maybe we can just meet in the garage or something. That way it’ll slowly die out of the conversation.” Jungkook’s almost offended by your words, dramatically placing a hand over his heart as if you’d shot him.

“That's the best part of my day, not happening.” Jungkook gives one hard shake of his head, a definitive no before he resumes eating.

“The best part of your day can be me walking to you in the parking garage instead.” You shoot, watching as Jungkook pretends to think hard about it. The final verdict is another hard shake of his head, signaling no. “Ugh, fine how about the cafeteria?” Another no. “Breakroom?” Another no. “Common areas?” Another no. “Jungkookkkk, work with me,” You complain, pointing at him threateningly with your chopsticks as you drive your foot into his abdomen.

“I like picking you up at your office.” He shrugs as he sets his food aside, going to grab your foot in his hold. The last time this happened, jungkook tickled you half to death, eventually earning him a hard kick to the temple. (You felt horrible, and he couldn’t shoot content for a week.) Immediately, you make your foot retreat in fear of his safety. He completely ignores the next train of complaints from you. In retaliation, you crumple up a napkin and bounce it off of his head, which he still doesn’t acknowledge.

“I can’t be called The girl Jungkook picks up, at my job. I really can’t Kook.”

With an exaggerated sigh, Jungkook finally gives in. “Fine, we can meet at the cafeteria.” He almost whines, pinching your calf lightly to display his grievances. After your mini celebration that Jungkook mopes throughout, the both of you get comfortable with just eating and watching the show as it fills the silence. Jungkook’s finished eating much faster than you are, waiting impatiently for you to be done. As soon as your plate hits the coffee table, he’s pulling you closer. “I miss you.” He starts, laying back and dragging you along with him.

“You see me every day.” You genuinely laugh, cuddling close to him as you continue to watch the show, cheek squished on his chest.

“It’s just not the same.” He's never satisfied. “When you’re working you’re all dressed up, and put together, and have your little bag filled with papers and fuck knows what else.” You chuckle softly, glancing up at him. “I miss just hanging out, watching tv, wearing pajamas, and you making fun of my toe socks which are very comfortable, FYI. We’ve been so busy recently.” At that, he holds you just the smallest bit closer. Your arms wrap around him in return, hands pancaked in between his back and the couch cushions. Glancing up, Jungkook’s soft gaze meets yours, a small smile spreading across his face. You return the smile, reaching up to hold his cheeks in your palms.

“First of all, the socks are atrocious. I only put up with them because it’s you.” You laugh loudly.

“Awwwww.”

“Secondly, you remind me of your younger self, Kook. It’s like I can still see him in you.” You smile hard, rubbing along the bridge of his nose with your pinky. If you were anyone else, Jungkook would tell you off for pointing out his nose, maybe even cuss a bit. But it's you, and he knows how much you rave about how cute you think it is, so he lets you slide your finger across. “So loving, so sweet Jungkook.” You can’t help but grin, moving to softly pink his cheeks in between your thumbs and index fingers. His teeth show slightly from the stretch, making you beam back at him. “My sweet boy.” You coo, finally releasing him as you lay back on his chest. Jungkook holds you even closer after that.

Jungkook’s fingers absentmindedly scratch along your back, every now and then rubbing the goosebumps that sprout up in their wake. You’re more focused on the movie than anything, brows furrowed together slightly as you listen closely to the dialogue to not miss a single detail. Jungkook, on the other hand, is the complete opposite. It’s already been an hour, you’re paying little to no attention to him and he’s growing impatient. The innocent scratches turn into heavy petting, eyes glued only to your frame, as his hips constantly readjust in their own accord. Trying to be subtle, Jungkook does his best to slowly hike your top up to get his hands on your bare skin. You’re more than aware of it, purposely ignoring him as you’re dead set on finishing up the stupid murder mystery, clue reminiscent, movie where you have to find out who the killer is. “Kook, go rub one out or something. I have 30 minutes left.” You complain, swatting away his hands as they begin to trail further underneath your shirt.

“No, it’s not the same.” He immediately whines, curling up more to you, face burying itself in your neck as he sits up slightly. You can feel the soft kissing, leaving light marks on your skin that he soothes with his tongue. “Do you remember when we were in my studio for the first time?” Jungkook almost shutters as he lays under you. So much for movie night and cuddles. “And you hit my prostate? I wanna do that again-“ He whines, burying his face in your chest in embarrassment. Your attention is finally diverted from the movie now, glancing down at him. You can only see the tips of his ears, burning a bright red that you can only guess is also spread across his cheeks. “But more.” He adds.

“You want me to fuck you? Is that what you’re saying?” Your voice drops, Jungkook immediately perking up at the tone with a small smile. “My boy, you want just my fingers, or you wanna be fucked?” Your hands come up to gently hold his head in them, fingers rubbing along his cheeks. Jungkook naturally leans into your touch, smiling softly as he deliberates.

“I want you to fuck me.” Jungkook finally states, nodding to solidify his statement. His words are booming in your otherwise quiet apartment.

“Oh shit.” You chuckle, his tone catching you slightly by surprise. At the small laugh, Jungkook’s face falls. “No, no I just laughed because it was so blunt and loud. Not at you, Kook.” You're quick to reassure, leaning forward to place a kiss on his forehead. “I think I may have a strap-on from-“

“You have a strapon?!?!” Jungkook interrupts you, shock and jealousy coursing through his voice, making you laugh.

“Listen! It was a gag gift from my friends in college, it’s not even used.” You roll your eyes, watching as he calms down. “You never let me finish my sentences.” You laugh, sitting up on his lap. He’s quick to follow, lurching into a seated position to meet you. “When bun?” His brow immediately creases.

“Today? Maybe?” The smirk that grows on your face is cheek aching, hands holding his face in your palms. Your thumbs gently brush his cheekbones, making him instantly melt in your hold.

“You’re cute, Kook.” You grin hard, leaning forward to place a gentle kiss on his nose. “Of course, I’ll fuck you bun. Happily. C'mon, to the bedroom.” You lightly slap his shoulders, encouraging him up. In a flurry, he’s hoisting the both of you from the couch in a millisecond, arms wrapped tightly around your waist. (He’s almost running into the bedroom, your legs wrapped tightly around him.) Jungkook wastes no time, allowing himself to fall backward onto the bed.

You land with a huff, Jungkook quickly situating you on his lap. “Alright, alright, I’m ready.” He smiles hard, ripping a laugh from your throat. “Do your worst.” It’s comfortable, the way your bodies easily fit together with one another, lips slotting together. You can taste the strawberry chapstick he wears so often, and smell the subtle citrus perfume that he always puts on when it starts to wear off. As always, Jungkook is easy to rile up. Slow kisses, pulling on his hair, slipping your hand underneath his shirt, and he’s already in over his head.

“You’re too easy, Kook.” You smile up at him softly, biting the soft skin on his neck as a dark mark begins to show. “I really hope you’re not always like this, with all your other girlfriends.” You tease him, knowing just how much he hates it. (He really does hate it, how could he want anyone else when he has you?)

“Y/nnnnn,” He complains, hands squeezing your thighs on either side of his waist hard, leaving small bruises in their wake. “You know I’m only this easy for you, always only you.”

“Hmmm, I don't know. Mr big league, international idol.” You continue to press all of his buttons, fighting back the smile as you look for the expression you already know he’s wearing. It finally makes you crack, cheeks hurting from how hard the smile is. Your hands slip underneath his ridiculously sized T-shirt, cold hands leaving goosebumps in their path as he involuntarily flinches away from them. You bunch it in your hands, peeling it off and over his head. “What was that one show you had recently, all sold out? How man fans did you-”

“You know that’s inaccurate,” Jungkook states immediately, dead serious which makes you laugh out loud.

“Alright, alright. Just getting you all bothered, bun,” The whine Jungkook lets out as you jokingly flick a nipple makes you ache, snapping you back into the reality of what the two of you are actually doing. “Fuck, bun. You gonna let me play with your pretty tits, hmm?” His fluffy hair bounces from how aggressively he shakes his head. You groan back, experimentally taking a nipple in between your teeth, harshly running your tongue over it.

“Feels good, feels good.” Kook whines, hips involuntarily grinding up against you. A small yelp unconsciously falls from him as you bite, one of his hands coming up to press firmly along your shoulder. “Biting? You just bit me!” He whines loudly, rubbing his chest. It makes you laugh.

“You bite me all the time without realizing it.” You counter, softly pulling his hand away by his wrist. Your tongue meets his chest once more, soothing over the mark before harshly licking, sucking, and biting once more. “You’re also always so rough with me, bun. Are you gonna let me be rough with you?”

“If you ever get there, sure. Seems like you’re stalling, you scared beautiful?” It’s taunting, finally his turn to push your buttons as he smirks down on you.

“We’ve gotta get you prepped Kook, otherwise you’ll be no fun to play with.” Once again, another tease meant to rile him up. Jungkoko groans just from your words, hands pulling your hips closer. Before he has a chance to counter, you’re moving down to meet his waistband, tugging on the sweatpants. Your thumbs hook underneath, catching both his underwear and tugging them off in one easy swoop. He’s rock hard, his cock hitting his lower stomach. “Can you reach over and grab the lube?” The bedside table is being slung open in two seconds flat, everything slapping against the front. Jungkook avoids the look you give him.

“Shut up, I don't wanna hear it.” He chuckles, handing it over after fishing around for it. “So how do you? How do we uh? Fit it in.”

Your heartbeat catches for a moment, glancing up and catching the slight nerves on his face before they disappear. “Kook.” You smile gently, a fond feeling in your chest. “We start slowly, Kook. We definitely don’t have to rush and if you want to stop we can always have a raincheck.” Jungkook listens intently, eyes wide as he takes everything in. Slowly. he nods as you finish up your speech. “So, we start slow.” You give him one last reassuring smile before you take the lube from him, being extremely generous as you apply it to your fingers.

His hips jerk into your hold as you take his aching cock with a soft fist, nerves making him jumpy. “Bun, relax. You know I’ll take care of you.” You coo to Jungkook, a blush flushing across his entire face.

“I know, I know you always do.” Jungkook nods, coaxing himself to relax as he lays down rather than resting on his elbows. You see part of his face, eyes screwed shut as he focuses on your touch. His breath sucks in as the cold lube meets his skin, legs tensing around your body where you sit between them.

“You have to relax, Kook.” You reiterate once more, sliding down slightly as your lips brush against his head. “You’ve been here before, bun.” You giggle, taking his head in your mouth as you focus on distracting him. He’s distracted easily, one hand reaching down to run his fingers through your hair, gently pulling at the strands. You allow him, sinking down slowly as you gauge his reaction.

“Feels good.” You can vaguely hear him whine, head pushed back into your pillow as he tries his hardest to focus on your mouth. As his legs relax around your body, losing himself in the pleasure, you easily slip your middle finger into his ass. “Fuck me!” He whimpers, clamping down around your finger.

“You’re okay, bun. You’re okay.” You reassure, glancing up to catch his expression. After he relaxes a bit, you sink onto his cock once more, not yet moving your finger. You can feel Jungkook’s gaze burning into your skin, watching intently as your nose brushes his abdomen. Experimentally, your finger draws out before easily sliding back in, pulling the smallest whine from the very back of his throat. Sinking back down onto his cock, you fight the gag off as he grinds into you, finally allowing the pleasure to wash over him again.

“Fuck! Is this what it feels like?” Jungkook whines loudly as you slip another finger in, gently pressing against his prostate as his hips readjust on their own.

“Feels like when what?” You draw before sinking back down onto him, your tongue harshly against rubbing the underside of his cock.

“When we fuck, when I’m in you.” It’s whiny and slightly breathless as he bites back his moans. Jungkook flushes a bright red across his chest and face, breath uneven as his chest rises and falls with heaves.

“Not at all, you’re way bigger than my fingers, bun.” It’s a boost in his confidence, immediately vanishing as one of your hands meets the back of his thighs. “Up Kook, just a bit so I can work you open,” He whines, so deep and guttural that you almost want to whine back. You're at three fingers when you actually start, beginning to fuck into him with your fingers, curling them to hit his prostate. His poor cock sits untouched on his abdomen, softly dripping precum onto his stomach from your touch.

Jungkook knows he’s in for it as you shuffle around in between him, climbing to your knees as his legs rest around your waist. It’s a change in your recent dynamic for sure, but he can't help the way his cock throbs the whines that slip past his bright red, bitten lips. Your free hand runs along his thigh, pulling it up slightly more as you push his hips into the mattress, fingers working him open and closer to his end.

“Kook?” You call softly, earning you a small hum in return. “You gonna be good for me, cum from my fingers?” Truthfully, he doesn’t know if he can but he trusts you enough to take him there. He nods quickly, bangs falling into his face. You pull another whimper just from changing your position, leaning over him slightly to watch all of his expressions. Taking his cock into one hand to push him closer, the other fucking him open, your body pressing him into the mattress, his mind just melts. His body feels hotter than humanly possible, mind reeling from all the sensations at once.

“Good boy Kook, my good boy.” Cooing, your lips meet his jaw as you gently kiss his hot skin.

“Close, really close.” Jungkook doesn’t quite understand the feeling that grows in his abdomen, only that it’s continuing to build as your fingers press harshly into him. He barely registers the feeling of your hand leaving his aching cock, mind too preoccupied with the incoming orgasm. “Coming.” His entire body shakes, hands searching for any sort of contact as they wrap around your body, pulling you closer to him. Jungkook’s sure he’s never experienced something like this before, sure he’s never come this hard in his entire life.

“Easy, Kook. It’s okay.” You help him through it, milking it for the most pleasure you can give him. Slowly easing your ministrations to a stop, you plant kisses around his face. Jungkook cums harder than you’ve ever seen, thighs still shaking against your body as he rides it out. “You okay?” He looks like he’s just run a marathon, chest heaving as he comes back.

“Yeah, yeah.” Kook huffs, flushed bright red underneath you.

“I’ll be right back? Okay?” He nods, allowing you to slip from his legs and instead begin to rummage through your bedside dresser. His eyes burn into your skin as you finally find it, the overly realistic strap-on held in place by a leather harness. “You still sure about this, bun?” You have to fight to untangle it, embarrassment following across your cheeks as you work on putting it on over your lace panties. Jungkook doesn’t even register your struggle as he watches.

“Yeah, yes. Please, Y/n.” Jungkook whimpers, cock throbbing as it slaps against his stomach. Nervousness sets in as you resume your spot in between his legs, hands rubbing along his thighs as they tense beneath your touch. “You’ll be gentle, right? Please?” He whimpers, taking one of your hands in his own.

“I’ll be as gentle as you are with me.” You giggle, slowly pushing his thighs back up to press his hips into the mattress. “Kidding, of course, I’ll be gentle, Kook,” You reassure, finally dropping the small nag as you once again fish for the lube. Jungkook fights the whimper that threatens to fall past his lips as he watches you lube yourself up, eyebrows scrunched together. “Ready bun?”

His lips are caught between his teeth as he nods, one of his hands meeting your own that holds his knee back. Leaning forward, you offer a quick kiss before starting. It’s slow, his chest heaving as you slowly allow the head to slip inside.

“You’re okay, bun.” You hum, redirecting a free hand to slowly jerk his cock. Sliding in slightly further, a loud moan slips past his lips as you brush along his prostate, cock throbbing in your hold. You have to talk him through it, sliding in inch by inch and allowing him to readjust each time. Rocking your hips slightly, Jungkook slowly takes the last inch before you’re fully inside, the base of the strapon grinding slightly against his skin. “You alright bun?” You coo, gently pulling an arm away from his flushed face.

Jungkook’s eyes are slightly watery, lips shining and bright red from how much he’s bitten down on them. Allowing him to adjust, you lean down to kiss him, lips sliding against one another as you grind against him. With a small nod from Jungkook, he encourages you back up.

“You’re so deep.” He whimpers as a response, clenching and unclenching around you. If only you could feel it, you’re sure you’d go insane. Seeing him so fucked out, pinned underneath your hold, whimpering and crying as he takes it., and being able to feel it? You’re bordering insane already. “Move, please.” Jungkook whines, so genuine that it causes you to clench around nothing.

“So good for me, Kook.” You praise, sliding out and easily pushing in in one swift thrust. The sound it makes is absolutely lewd, adding to your insanity.

“Fuck! Fuck!”

“So whiny, crying and I’ve barely started bun. Barely even moving right now.” You tease, watching as his cock bounces with each taunt. You can’t help but grind against him, feeling the faint warmth of his skin on your lower stomach.

“Yeah? Thought you wanted to be rough with me?” Jungkook knows what he’s doing, knows how much he’s essentially fucking himself over with his words, but he doesn’t care. He’s in trouble as you hike his thighs up with ease, pinning him to the bed how he pins you constantly. Vulnerability spreads throughout his entire body, open wide in front of you before you’re following, thighs pressed against the curves of his ass.

“Bun, be careful with your words.” You tease, giving him one hard snap of your hips to prove your point. It gets it across easily, forcing a moan past his lips which you swallow in a sloppy kiss. Jungkook’s burning up from the inside out, watching as your chest bounces each time you rock your hips into him, feeling the warmth of your skin each time you bottom out. His legs are hiked up higher than he’s ever been, knees almost touching the bed beside his torso as you fold him in half. “You alright, bun?” You ask, not paying much attention as your mind is focused on wedging your hands in the folds of his knees better.

“Yeah, yeah. I just didn’t know this would feel so intense?” He mumbles, hands reaching around his legs to hold your forearms in his palms. Moans fill your bedroom, Jungkook unable to hold back a single one. “Vulnerable? Feel this good? I don’t know which term I’m looking for.”

“Vulnerable? You feel vulnerable Kook? Do you want me to slow down-”

“No! No, I don’t feel vulnerable with you.” Jungkook wears a soft smile across his face, quickly broken as you rock harder into him. “The position is just…compromising I suppose.”

You can’t help but giggle at him. “Good, bun. I’m glad.” Grinning, you catch his lips in a quick kiss before pulling away once again. To get more leverage, (you’re going off of stuff you’ve seen Jungkook do,) you push yourself up onto your feet. “Being so good, taking me so well.”

“Are you, fuck fuck ah,” He whines, clenching around you as you’re able to finally set a steady pace, using your legs as leverage. “Are you mating pressing me right now?” Jungkook cracks in between moans, trying his hardest to maintain his composure. His brows are scrunched together, lips bit bright red as his lids struggle to stay open, completely and utterly fucked out. There’s a thin layer of sweat slowly building, making his skin shine prettily.

“Wish I could feel you Kook, wish I could.” You ignore his previous comment, eyebrows scrunching together as you focus on your movements. In any other context, Jungkook would coo at you and rub the small wrinkle that forms out with both thumbs, place a kiss there maybe. But in this context, with the concentration you’re giving him, it’s a scary one.

“Fuck, don't say that. Don't know how I’d react if I was able to feel you.” He reaches, teasingly pulling you in by your hip and throwing off your balance.

“I’m about to slip a fucking sleeve over your cock so you stop being such a smartass, bun.” You growl, snapping hard into him. It’s the whinest moan you think you’ve ever heard from Jungkook since you’ve met him, cock jumping at the threat. “Such a whore, Kook.” You can’t help but quip, watching as he stifles the moan that threatens to spill out.

“Think I’m gonna cum again,” His hands move to rest on his forehead, covering his face from you.

“Uhh uhh, you know better than that bun.” The smugness drips from your voice, one of your hands coming to pin Jungkook’s hands away from his red face. “C'mon, don’t make me punish you, cum for me like a good boy.” There’s a feral-ness in your voice, wanting to see him squirm underneath you, cry for you as he cums. Your hips snap on their own accord, watching as his soft pink lips part with each moan you work out of him.

“Fuck, Kook. So beautiful underneath me feels like I’m gonna die,” You complain with a smile, leaning over his body to bite softly into his chest. And you move to nip his neck, then the very base of his jaw, before moving back to his chest again to mark him. “Can't take it, how good you are.” You praise more, watching as he teeters on the very edge of his orgasm. His brain genuinely melts, jaw falling slack just the slightest bit as he full-body cums again, legs shaking around your waist. Jungkook breaks your hold on his arms, pulling your body close as he kisses you, sloppy and needy. Your palms trail along his skin, offering comfort to his shaking thighs and heaving chest as you slowly soothe them. “Easy, bun, easy.” You coo in between kisses, eventually slowing the needy kisses down to gentle and slow to help him catch his breath.

“Holy shit,” He finally offers, making you chuckle as you softly smooth his messy hair, pushing his bangs away from his sweaty forehead.

“You’re making such a fucking mess, bun. Just fuckin oozing everywhere like a whore, can't help it huh?” Teasing, you swipe at his abdomen to collect some of it, showing it off on your fingers. Jungkook can't help but tremble, whines spilling past his lips from your teasing. “You okay? Wanna take a break?” You check in after dropping your teasing tone, sitting up a bit on your heels to assess him. There are way more bite marks than you remember giving him, some showing the indents of your teeth in his flesh. It makes your cheeks warm, thumbs swiping the bite marks gently to try and smooth them out (it doesn’t work at all.)

“No, no, I think I have one more in me at least. God, pretty girl, fuckin feral huh?” Jungkook smiles, rubbing over the bite marks himself. Embarrassment overcomes you, cheeks reddening as all you can do is smile. “I like it.”

“What can I say, gotta mark what’s mine.” You offer cheekily, leaning in for one last kiss before resuming. “You think you can take it on your knees?”

“Oh fuck,” It’s more of a whimper than anything, Jungkook knowing this is, in fact, going to be the last one before his mind melts entirely. “Think I might die if I take it on my knees.” He offers, whimpering as you slide out of him to allow him to move. If Jungkook was luckier, you suppose you’d go easier on him, maybe whisper sweet nothings into his ear as you give him back shots. As he flips over, ass waving in the air, you feel as if you’ve been starved for the last year. His waist looks smaller than normal like this, shoulder muscles flexing as he rests on his arms, thighs shaking just the slightest bit from his previous 2 orgasms.

Definitely not going to be gentle, you discern. Your hands instinctively reach for his ass, lightly slapping this skin underneath your palms to test his reaction. He offers a muffled groan, pushing his ass back into you. Slapping slightly harder, his skin begins to redden into a faint handprint. “My little whore.” You can't stop yourself, Jungkook pushing himself back once again. Pushing yourself up onto your knees, you easily slip in the head, earning a throaty groan from Kook. “God, bun.” Is all you can manage, reaching over into your bedside drawer to fish out another toy. “Be good and get this wet for me, alright?” You almost purr, a giant smile spread across your face as you hand him the fleshlight.

You slide into him with a wet shhlickk, humming softly as your hips meet his soft skin. Glancing around to the best of your ability, Jungkook’s obviously conflicted as he steals glances at the bottle of lube that sits near him. “Bun, I said wet it.” You drawl, leaning over his body to reach, Jungkook letting out a whine from how deep you are. You take it from his stilled hands, his mind too preoccupied with the way your hips press into his ass. “Cum a couple of times and can’t think, huh?” You tease, pushing the toy up to his lips, grinding it against him as he begins eating it out.

Jungkook groans, so deep and throaty that you would've sworn he just came without even being stimulated, mind beginning to catch up to all the sensations. “Please, move Y/n. Can’t take it, too deep.” Kook whimpers, pushing his ass harder into your hips. Death grip still around the toy, you're unmoving.

“Bun, cmon. Be good for me, this is the first thing I've asked of you this entire time.” It’s a sight for your sore eyes, pink tongue slipping into the clear center as his eyebrows form that familiar crease between them with concentration. The hand not holding the toy slides around his torso, gently rubbing over his sensitive chest and nipples to give him some sort of touch. You can't help but clench around nothing, watching as his jaw flexes and tenses with each movement. Pulling it away, you're almost drooling with desire. “You gonna let me be rough with you, bun?” You tease, easily sliding the toy partially over him.

He just shakes underneath you, absolutely quivers as he sinks into the toy. “Yes, please. Please be rough, be mean,” He whines, biting down hard on his lower lip as you rock into him, forcing him to rock into the toy in turn.

“See Kook? I move, you move.” You can’t help but smile, chest still flush against his back as you allow him to get used to it. Both hands find his chest, squeezing, pinching, and rubbing wherever they can. Jungkook’s basically panting underneath you, abs clenched hard in concentration as he tries not to cum embarrassingly early. “Gonna move now, alright?” He offers a nod as an answer, eyes screwed shut and lips bit down.

You force a deep moan out of him with the very first thrust of your hips, not only hitting his prostate but forcing him completely into the clear toy underneath him. “Gonna cum early Kook? Feels too good, huh? Just so many different sensations happening at once.” You tease him. Reaching forward, you pull hard on the back of his hair, Jungkook’s being forced up onto his hands.

“Feels good, really good. Too good.” He almost babbles, making the heat in your abdomen pool. “Don't wanna cum yet, but might.” He whimpers, mouth falling open as you snap your hips hard into him. Without even thinking, you allow your fingers to slip into his mouth, pressing down hard on his tongue. Jungkook genuinely drools, coating your fingers and creating a string that falls onto the covers. “Lemme cum, wanna cum, bad.”

“You have to ask nicely.” You grit, grinding into him. One of your arms wraps around his torso, holding him close. Your lips meet his shoulder, biting down slightly on the warm skin.

“Please lemme cum.” It’s the best you’re going to get in his current state, mind seconds from leaving his head completely.

“Go head bun, come hard for me.” You coo, keeping your antics up to the best of your ability given the exhaustion slowly creeping up on you. (You’re older than Kook, give yourself a break. You don’t have as much stamina as the boy.) “Be good and let me hear you, bun.” You could cum just from listening to him, whining, moaning, and borderline crying as he cums for the last time of the night. His thighs shake against yours, hands creating fists around the covers as his knuckles go white. “Easy, Kook. Easy, you’re okay.” You help him through it, hands roaming his body to help ground him with your touch. Slowly, you maneuver him back down to his elbows to rest. “Gonna slide out, okay, I’ll be careful.” Talking him through it, you help him onto his back, tossing the toys aside to be cleaned.

“Holy fuck.” Jungkook whines, covered in his own fluids as he finally rests entirely. There’s drool covering his chest, absolutely lewd as he peers up at you with half-open eyes. “Gonna have to do that again, sometime.”

“You okay, Jungkook?” You ask gently, taking him into your arms as your lips meet for the millionth time that night.

Jungkook beams at you, the widest and most cheesy smile you’ve seen in a while. “Of course, babe. More than okay, thank you for doing that with me.” He grins, cupping your face in one hand as he kisses you.

“C'mon, let’s go take a bath. I don't think your legs could stand long enough for a shower.” You tease. He knows you're right, but he profusely denies it in an attempt to prove you wrong and show just how strong he is. (He needs your help walking to the bathroom, wobbly legs himself.) You allow him to keep his dignity, not bullying him too much on the way to the tub.

“Wait, you didn’t cum did you?” Jungkook makes the sudden revelation in the bathroom, pulling you close to his chest. Your hands meet his biceps, small smiles spreading across both of your faces.

“No, but it’s okay I- KOOK!” He catches you off guard as he easily dips a hand into your panties, fingers immediately slipping through your folds from how wet you are. “It’s okay, I enjoyed seeing you like that for me regardless, I don't have to cum to enjoy things you know?”

“Hmmm, but it’d make me feel a lot better.” Jungkook cheekily smiles, already working you up as he slots his thigh in between your own. “Please cum for me, just once. I’ll lend you my fingers, please cum on my fingers.” He’s basically begging, waiting for you to nod before moving his hand anymore. It's hotter than you would've thought, you riding his fingers while standing, sloppily making out as he swallows your moans with soft groans, bodies held close together, warm skin against warm skin. “Sound so pretty, angel. These sounds just for me, all mine,” He mumbles against your lips, making you clench hard around him.

“Just a bit more, Kook. Almost there,” You whine loudly, grinding against him.

“I’ve got you, bun’s got it.” Jungkook easily takes you there, basically knows your body like the back of his hand. Your knees part more to allow his hand to move more freely, legs shaking slightly as you stand on your toes.

“Cumming Kook.” Eyebrows scrunching together, the pool that’s been hot in your stomach finally overflows, your poor cunt aching as you cum. Jungkook does his best to ride you through it for as long as possible, milking it for all it’s worth. “Too much, hurts.” You whimper against Jungkook’s neck, softly grabbing his wrist.

“I love you. I fucking love you so much.” Jungkook removes his hand as quickly as he shoved it in your panties, pulling you close as he kisses you.

“Oh my god! Get in the tub, we’re going to be fucking in my bathroom if we keep this up.” You giggle, softly pushing him toward the already-filled tub.

“Fine, even though that seems like a fun time too,” Jungkook complains, climbing in. His eyes never leave your frame as you take off your panties, dropping them in the laundry before slipping in behind him. “Hot.”

“Kook, shhhhhhhh.” The both of you laugh, Jungkook moving to rest against your torso. Placing a hand on his forehead, you softly pull his head back to rest it on your shoulder. “I love you too, Jungkook. Always have.” You kiss his cheek softly, hands coming to hold his head gently as you do. Jungkook pretends to hate it, jokingly pulling away from your lips as you kiss him multiple times. You’re sure he’s blushing, but he ferociously avoids looking at you as you try to see his cheeks better to tease.

He’s 100% blushing as he sits up away from you, you're sure of it. He offers a “nuh uh” before you're slapping a hand across his eyes, yanking him down once more. It makes the both of you laugh loudly, water sloshing against the tub walls. Finally, he gives in. “Fine, whatever. Love you too.”

“Love you more, wobbly legs.”

If you have any comments, feedback, etc, please let me know in the tags or comments! I always love to hear from readers and listen to your thoughts! Thank you for reading.

Love, G <3

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dollyyun · 6 months

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𝒐𝒏𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒈𝒊𝒓𝒍𝒔 | chap 12

SYPNOSIS: wherein Hwang Stella's life is tangled in a predicament involving her clandestine identity as a racer, her seemingly daily life as the official heir to the Hwang Empire, and seven guys with whom she has a complex history with.

PAIRING: enhypen members x fem oc.

GENRE: 18+ (mdni), reverse harem, chaebols, semi-college & racing, eventual adulthood, non-idol au, eventual enha being f1 drivers, multiple pov (this fic is written in first pov).

WARNINGS: abuse, violence, expletives, angst, heartbreaks, drama.

WORD COUNT: 10k+

TAGLIST: @aishigrey @kgneptun

🍒 MASTERLIST 🍒

I haven't been in the right state of mind since last week's incident. With Jungwon leaving Seoul, some of the guys had ulterior motives towards me and Sunghoon. It fucked me up so badly that there were moments when I couldn't physically do anything and just unmoved from my bed.

Surprisingly, Minhyuk didn't demand my presence in the room where he punished me for my incompetence. Jihyun, on the other hand, had been relentlessly berating me for my mistakes and how the incident should be a lesson learned to me that I could only trust my family. It's fucking ironic, because I don't even trust the people with whom I share the same blood here in the first place.

Presently, I'm at my secret hideout, which is a garage that is equivalent to the size of the mansion's living room. As I rest on the mini couch with my head on the armrest and my arm draped over my eyes, I begin to collect my thoughts as I bask in the silence. I have been here since the first sunrise.

The Grand Prix will happen tonight, and I need to get my shit together if I want to prevail against my competitors. But my mind will always drift off to them.

The rational part of me understands why they did what they did, but the other part of me still reels from the heartbreak. To learn that they only began to become closer to me just to get me to lower my guard and cause distractions hurts me more than it should.

I mean, when I think about it, it is hypocritical of me to feel enraged and heartbroken when I am to blame as well. I willingly allowed myself to fall for their allure and for them to use me as they pleased. I'm at fault for being utterly weak and a fool for being desperate to get crumbs of their affections.

Tears start to sting in my eyes as I grit my teeth. Despite how much the truth hurts me and how badly I want to hate them, I can't. In the end, they were victims as well.

"Stella!" I hear Aera calling for me in such desperation from the outside. "Stella!"

I remain unmoving from my position as I had the door unlocked. Aera's footsteps rush towards me, prompting me to remove my arm away from my eyes before they stop at Aera, who is dressed in a racer fit with the exception of her high-waisted checkered skirt.

Earlier, I caved in and returned Aera's texts. She had been relentlessly trying to call me and get me to talk to her, but I refused. Eventually, she revealed that she didn't know anything.

I offer her a weak smile as I pat the empty space at my side, where she sits before embracing me in a hug. I sigh, hugging her tighter. At least I still have one last friend.

"Before you say anything, just know that I gave my brother an earful of reprimanding." Aera frowns after she pulls away from the hug. "I can't believe they would do this. I expected better from Heeseung."

"I'm not certain if I can blame them entirely." I chuckle dryly. "I've been thinking and collecting my thoughts. The guys, including your brother, are victims as well."

"But that doesn't justify the fact that they had ulterior motives towards you in the first place." Aera counters, scowling. "If they weren't cowards, they would've rebelled against those with power. Heck, even I rebelled, which resulted in me getting disowned just recently."

I look at her with my eyes widening. "What happened?"

"I confronted my parents about their schemes, and we were in such a heated argument that even Heeseung tried to intervene. They also disapproved of me being friends with you and forbade me from seeing you, but I wasn't about to let them control my life." Aera sighs. "Which then resulted in me getting disowned by my parents."

My eyes turn crestfallen. "I'm so sorry, Aera."

"Hey, it's fine. Don't feel bad." Aera grabs my hand, squeezing it lightly. She gives me a faint smile. "Plus, they haven't been the ideal parents to me since I was young. I was just there merely for decoration. Heeseung's the apple of their eyes."

I sigh and am about to speak, but Aera cuts me off. "Stella, listen," She places her hand on my shoulder as she looks at me with firm eyes. "Whatever happens, I'll always stick by your side. Wherever you go, I'll go too."

Tears well up in my eyes. "Really?"

"Truly." Aera smiles. "Us girls got to stick together."

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

The circuit where the Grand Prix is held is more massive than I expected. After Aera and I parted ways as she joined the other spectators, I'm with the other racers, loitering at the automat. I don't know why I feel disheartened when I don't see any sightings of familiar faces.

With the empty can in my grasp, I slowly crush it before averting my gaze from the other racers who are mingling about and making my way towards the rubbish. I toss it inside and turn around, but my heart stops beating momentarily when I come face-to-face with Jaeyun. My first love.

He appears to have been running, given how he is panting lightly and sweats trickling down his temple. His dark hair is slightly tousled, making me want to adjust it, but I refrain from doing so.

"Stella, I need to tell you something." He starts off, but the moment he speaks, I look away from him and attempt to walk away. "This is important!" He tugs at my wrist, causing me to jerk from his sudden touch.

I look at him with a scowl. "What do you want─"

"Rena was spotted earlier." Jaeyun cuts me off with a sense of urgency. "She was seen where we racers stationed our vehicles."

I kind of had a hunch that she would be here, considering how she wouldn't stop pestering me for the past few days about the Grand Prix and how it'll be the night I will remember.

"So what?" I ask bluntly, which throws him off guard. "Thanks for this important information."

"You don't understand, love." Jaeyun says in frustration. "Don't you know your sister? She could've done something deplorable tonight that might concern your safety."

"Even if she did something, why do you care?" I let out a shaky breath.

Jaeyun's eyes glisten. "I never stopped caring about you, love."

I look away from his eyes, because the longer I stare into them, the stronger the urge to return to his arms. "Then stop caring." I turn my back on him while tears brim in my eyes. "I did."

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Determination and tenacity sizzle through every fibre of my being while my clutch on the steering wheel tightens with resolve. The blaring sound of the exhaust of my engine blares just as loudly as the other cars on the circuit.

My eyes shift to the rear view mirror, noticing Jaeyun's car approaching from behind. My foot presses down the accelerator pedal, refusing to lose against him or even some of them. Currently, I'm against seven competitors, including Jaeyun, Riki, and Sunghoon. Just earlier, I saw the bunch of them together, but I refrain from going to them just like I used to.

Focus, Stella. My better instinct tells me as my eyes harden. You can't afford to lose.

My hands multitask, going into auto mode as they operate the functions with competency. I manage to overtake Sunghoon, but there are still three cars ahead of me. Suddenly feeling a little breathless, I slide up the visor of my helmet to get some air, but it isn't enough.

I begin to cough as my throat begins to feel dry before I finally notice how the interior of my car seems misty.

"Stella." I hear Junho's voice speaking into my ear, as I have an earbud inside. "You're slowing down and losing momentum. What's wrong?"

"I'm fine." I cough once more before I grit my teeth in annoyance. "I was a little distracted."

"Focus, Hwang. You know you can't be distracted." Junho says sternly. "Make me proud. Make your uncle proud."

It's as if the mention of my uncle is the triggering point, and before I know it, I pick up the velocity, zooming past each car as though it's a vigorous beast. Sweats trickle down my skin while my heart is having palpitations.

After successfully leaving the other racers in the dust, I attempt to decelerate my car as I realise how fast my car is going, but as I hit the pedal break, nothing changes. The speed remains the same. I begin to panic, trying everything in my power to reduce the speed of my car, but to no avail.

"Stella! You're going insanely fast!" Junho's urgent voice doesn't help to alleviate what I'm feeling either.

"I can't!" I choke out as tears spring from my eyes. "Something's wrong with the functions!"

Then I hear nothing from Junho. I try again, again, and again, but nothing is working. This has never happened before, and I'm guessing Rena did something to my vehicle. I don't know if I will make it out alive.

Thud!

I almost let go of the steering wheel due to the impact I received from the side. I look out the window, and my eyes widen when I see Jaeyun's car. It seems as though he's trying to help me reduce the speed despite the fact that there would be scratches or even damages done to our cars, but Jaeyun doesn't relent.

I feel another thud coming from the opposite, prompting me to look and spot Sunghoon's car as well. They're trying to help me.

Both of their cars come closer and closer until I hear loud screeching from the outside. I try to step on the pedal break again, hoping that it'll function again. Upon seeing that the speed of my car doesn't relent, Jaeyun picks up velocity and overtakes me, but in an instant, he does a swift yet dangerous drift, with his car facing me as he drives backwards.

I guess he's pulling the brakes, because the moment the head of my car meets his, I can feel the difference in speed, but it isn't enough to stop immediately. The loud screeching reaches my ears while my heart beats fast in apprehension.

Jaeyun's tactic seems to be working even though the exterior of our cars has been damaged. Just as we're about to slow down to a stop, we hear loud blaring from my side, prompting me to look with wide eyes at two cars heading towards us with no intention to stop.

Alas, both crash into Jaeyun and me, sending our vehicles flying due to the major impact and the speed. Window glasses shatter everywhere, and my ribs start to hurt while my helmet hits the roof of my car, making me lightheaded.

For a moment, stillness envelopes me as I stay in my seat motionlessly with my car now hanging upside down while pain spikes through my body. I feel blood trickling down my head, and my hands are bearing some wounds from the shattered glasses. As my eyelids are threatening to close, the smell of something burning invades my senses.

"Get Stella out!" I hear muffled voices and yelling before the driver's door is forced open.

"Stella!" I feel hands trying to unbuckle my seatbelt in urgency. As soon as Heeseung unbuckles it, he is swift to catch me and attempts to get me out, but I ended up being dragged due to the difficulty of being hanged upside down.

My eyelids are heavy, but I persist, feeling my back leaning against Heeseung's chest while I spot Jay kneeling in front of me as he carefully removes my helmet.

"Stella." Heeseung frantically brushes the strands of my hair away from sticking to my face. My head lolls to the side, feeling heavy, and the fact that my ribcage feels painful.

"Jaeyun." I manage to utter, though in a whimper. "Is Jaeyun safe?" But my eyes shift to the view in front of me, and my heart drops.

Fire is slowly engulfing Jaeyun's car whole, and I spot Jaeyun, who has been dragged away from his car. Half of his face is smeared with blood while he appears lifeless.

"No." I begin to sob weakly as tears flow freely. It was supposed to be only me, not him. He wasn't supposed to get hurt.

"Get the stretchers!" I hear Junho bark out orders while chaos erupts everywhere.

I feel Heeseung's arm go underneath my knees while the other goes behind my back before he carries me in bridal style. He seems to be saying something, but his voice sounds far away. Before I knew it, I had fallen into the rabbit hole.

The paramedics brought Jake, Stella, and the other two racers to the nearest hospital. Unfortunately, the other two racers couldn't pull the brakes, just like Stella. Compared to the three of them, Jake receives the most impact, which is why he is now in a critical condition.

"Heeseung!" Aera calls for me, jogging towards us as we wait outside of the A&E room. She pants heavily while her eyes glisten with tears. "Stella and Jake?"

I shake my head at her and sigh deeply as I run my fingers through my hair in frustration. "They're still inside."

"I don't get it." Sunoo, who is seated on the bench, speaks up with a look of despair. "How could this have happened?"

"I'm guessing Rena happened." Sunghoon says as he leans against the wall across from us. His eyes harden. "Before the race, Jake told me about Rena being spotted at where the vehicles are stationed. I'm assuming that she tampered with their vehicles."

"But how?" Ni-Ki asks incredulously. "Unless someone gave her access."

"You're right." Jay approaches us after not being seen anywhere. "Sorry. I've had to do a little investigation and do some reporting on the accident. But Ni-Ki is right. Rena paid some staff to let her in."

"Then she should be put behind bars!" Aera exclaims.

"Don't worry. She's currently being investigated." Jay rolls his eyes. "Although I'm positive her parents will bail her out."

We wait impatiently yet restlessly for the outcome of the next hour.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

After hearing the dreadful news from Jake's doctor, I decide to head to Stella's room with Aera while the guys head over to Jake's. As soon as my eyes settle on her figure, my heart aches at the sight, especially with IV drips inserted into her skin.

Stella looks utterly vulnerable as she rests. I look down at her hands, which are covered in bandages, before I tenderly hold her hand. According to her doctor, she sustained an injury to her ribcage in bruised form, and the side of her forehead needed stitching. She also inhaled some type of substance that caused her to feel dizzy. Other than that, she is fine.

"Jaeyun?" Stella mumbles, startling us as she stirs, finally fluttering her eyes open. "Jaeyun!"

"Hey, hey. It's fine, sweetheart." I move closer to her side with my hand gently touching her forehead. She weeps in silence as tears trickle down her cheeks.

"Where is Jaeyun?" She asks weakly.

I give her a sad smile. "He's in the ICU. He's in a critical condition. He received the most impact."

"He's in a coma." Aera speaks up, her voice sounds shaky. "We don't know if he'll wake up."

At once, Stella releases a sharp sob, and I can only hold her hand, feeling helpless and useless. "It's my fault." Stella cries out. "I was supposed to be the only one to get hurt, not him!"

Neither Aera nor I can offer her words of consolation. Aera covers her mouth as her eyes glisten with tears, getting emotional upon seeing Stella break down.

"He shouldn't have helped me. If he hadn't, he would be safe." Stella holds my hand tighter.

"You know he would. He would always save you in a heartbeat, sweetheart." My voice is barely above a whisper. "Just like I would. Just like any of us would."

Stella shakes her head, whimpering. "I'm not worth saving, Hee."

Upon hearing her statement, my heart seems to be shattering into pieces.

For the past three days, whenever we paid Stella a visit, she would mostly remain silent and stare into spaces. Even as we tried to get her to speak, she would either nod or shake her head. We've been dying to talk to her about what happened at the gala. She needed to know that our feelings for her still remain unchanged.

"I heard from someone that Stella had been discharged from the hospital last night." Sunoo announces as we gather at Sunghoon's crib, but silence is all he receives. With Jungwon gone and Jake in a comatose state, nothing has been the same as it was.

Everything is crumbling.

"Surprisingly, Jake's parents paid him a visit yesterday." Sunghoon attempts to start a conversation. "I thought they wouldn't care, but I was shocked to see his mother shedding tears."

"I feel bad for Charlotte." Ni-Ki says with a frown. "She was crying hysterically at the hospital."

I heave a deep sigh, leaning my back against the couch. "Everything has gone wrong since Jungwon happened."

"He didn't even bid us goodbye." Sunoo's voice wavers while he looks hurtful.

Before anyone can speak, the doorbell chimes repeatedly, followed by a familiar voice calling for us frantically. "Heeseung! Sunghoon! Anyone?!"

Heeseung doesn't hesitate to rush to the main door, which is nearer to the living room where we're at. As Heeseung swings, the door opens, and Aera rushes inside, all sweaty and looking as though she had been chased by a serial killer.

"Who invited you here?" Sunoo attempts to joke, but to our great astonishment, Aera breaks into tears.

"Hey, what's wrong?" Heeseung immediately holds his sister. "Aera."

"It's Stella." Aera sobs with hiccups, leaving her lips. "She's in danger."

"What?" I step forward, my brows furrowing, while I feel uneasy. "What do you mean she's in danger?"

"Mary called me, telling me to go to the address she sent to me and pleaded to save Stella." Aera tries to even her breathing, but she seems to be going hysterical. "Mary didn't even have the chance to explain everything before I heard her screaming in agony on the line, and─ oh my god."

Heeseung embraces Aera as the latter clings onto him, weeping into his shoulder. "What I heard was horrible before the line went dead." Aera then looks at us with desperation. "We need to save her."

"Of course. Send me the address." Sunghoon answers for all of us. "And you stay here put. You'd be safer here."

"No." Aera shakes her head stubbornly. "I'm coming with you guys. Stella's my soul sister."

"Hoon's right, sis." Heeseung holds her shoulders and looks at her firmly. "I don't want to risk the chance of losing you." Aera's eyes soften before Heeseung leans forward to peck her forehead.

"I'm calling for legal backups." I tell them as I whip out my phone. Thank God I have a close cousin from law enforcement who I know I can trust to help me out.

"Let's go, then."

Initially, I was supposed to be discharged tomorrow, but last night, my parents demanded that my doctor release me early. The doctor, just like any other, was scared shitless by the influence and authority my parents wielded and the fact that they're the Hwangs, so that led to where I am presently, in my bedroom, as I curl my body like a prawn with vacant eyes.

There is no doubt that my parents now know about me being a racer, given how the major incident that happened at the Grand Prix came out in the news and spread out through the media like wildfire. But oddly enough, neither of them has yet to confront me about it. The last thing I heard from my mother was her ordering Mary to take me to my room and have me well rested.

My finger begins to draw a circle on my bedsheet while my eyes follow its movement. I've been lying on my bed for the past few hours after Mary brought my medications and meals. The mansion is peculiarly quiet. Mary did tell me that everyone is in the mansion, but it's weird not hearing Rena's usual whines and my mother barking orders to the pitiful helpers.

I sigh once more before deciding to get up, slowly raising my body while my ribcage throbs, but it's bearable compared to a few days ago. It isn't healthy for me to be cooped up in my room the whole day. I need to exercise a little.

As I open the door, I take a peek outside the hallway, where only two helpers can be seen wiping the dust at every corner. Stepping outside, I begin to make my way down. Since my stomach is grumbling a little, I should check out the fridge so I can munch on anything edible.

But I halt my steps just before I nearly reach the kitchen. I am swift enough to hide myself from their sight behind the wall. I can't help but eavesdrop on them. Rena and Jihyun.

"Mom, don't you think it's time we tell Stella the truth?" Rena asks, and judging by her tone, I can tell she is smirking.

I hear Jihyun sighing wearily. "I don't think it's a good idea, Rena."

"I think it's a splendid idea! She's grown up now, so she should be able to handle the truth!" Rena exclaims. "Besides, she can't keep getting away from all the troubles she's gotten herself into just because she's the heir when she's not even a proper Hwang."

"Rena." There is a warning under Jihyun's tone. "Enough. She's your sister."

"You mean half-sister."

My face contorts into confusion. Half-sister? Is she bluffing?

Rena continues to speak with such disdain. "Since Hyunjin and Yeji are no longer here, I should be appointed as the official Hwang heir, but no. Dad chose Stella. She doesn't even deserve the title when I'm the rightful heir."

I can't take this anymore. I begin to make my way into the kitchen and finally see Rena and Jihyun by the kitchen island. Jihyun's eyes widen at the sight of me, whereas Rena simply raises her eyebrow at me.

"Half-sister?" I start off, and my tone sounds sharp and cold. I look directly into Jihyun's fearful eyes. "Tell me the truth, mother. What did Rena mean by half-sister?"

"Stella, you should be in bed!" Jihyun attempts to distract me with her chastisement, walking towards me and trying to reach for me, but I back away from her. "Stella, please!"

"If you want to know so bad about the truth, why don't you ask father?" Rena suggests, giving me a coy smile while something malicious glints in her eyes. "Go on, sister. He's in his office right now."

"Stella, don't!" Jihyun tries to reach for me again, but I am already walking away despite my rib that still throbs in pain.

After living with them for many years and learning their behaviours, maybe I am falling into a trap, or maybe it's just nothing, but I need to know, especially when it is highly related to the confidential file that I still have in my possession.

Before I know it, I reach outside of his office. I don't bother to knock as I barge into his office. His men at the side seem alarmed by my unwanted presence, but when Minhyuk raises his palm, they heed.

I breathe heavily with my eyes drilling into Minhyuk's forehead while he appears to be nonchalant as he reads through his paperwork. "No more secrets and no more lies, father." A muscle jumps in my jaw. "Tell me the truth behind my birth."

Minhyuk releases a sigh and slowly removes his reading glasses before meeting my eyes. "I've been waiting for you to confront me about it ever since you stole the confidential file."

I clench a fist. "Just go straight to the point, father."

Minhyuk chuckles coldly, enough to bring chills down my spine. "Father. I've always hated you calling me that. I'm sure you're smart enough to put the final pieces together, daughter."

He's implying that since I've read the documents in the confidential file, the final piece is an obvious answer. "You're not my biological father." I state firmly despite my hands, which are trembling from the revelation. "Then who is my biological father?"

"Let me tell you a story about the time when I found out about your mother's infidelity years ago." Minhyuk rises from his seat and strides around the table before leaning his back on the edge of his table, standing across from me. "You see, I've always wanted anything my older brother wanted, including the woman of my dreams, ergo, your mother."

Confusion clouds my head. Why is he suddenly mentioning Uncle Minjun?

"Winning over your mother's heart was easy, and so I stole from him and married her a few years later. When she gave birth to your older brother and sister, I was overjoyed, but then came the responsibilities I had to commit. I got busy with work to the point where I neglected your mother." He continues with a grim look. "I was on a business trip, and your mother got lonely. So she sought comfort in another man's arms, the one who used to be her first love. One thing led to another, your mother got pregnant with you, unfortunately."

I swallow down a painful lump. "If my birth was unfortunate, you should've killed me instead. But you didn't. You raised me in this mansion that doesn't feel like home because you made it hell."

Minhyuk smirks coldly. "I had some thoughts about killing you off, but your mother wanted to keep you. In retaliation, I forbid your biological father from raising you and warned him not to reveal the truth to you. I was lenient enough to allow him to see you and bring you out."

"Uncle Minjun." Tears well up in my eyes as I gasp softly when realisation hits me like a brick. "He's my biological father."

"Yes. My dearest older brother." Minhyuk speaks of him as though he's poisoned. "You were never supposed to find out the truth until the day you die."

"Why?" I allow the tears to flow down. "Even if I'm not your real daughter, we still share the same blood! How could you treat your own blood like this?! For years, I've done everything you asked me to, and I even endured all your torturous ways to tame me." I cry out while my chest starts to hurt. "What even is my sin?!"

"Your existence itself is the biggest sin!" Minhyuk roars at me, finally unleashing the monster that lurks beneath his $1000 suit. "You are a constant reminder of their infidelity!"

I don't even realise that Minhyuk is just standing a few metres from me now. I manage to catch the way his fingers seem to motion to his men, and before I know it, they grab my arms tight, preventing me from escaping.

"Did you know that such infidelity is unacceptable to the Hwangs? And do you know what happens to those who are born because of it?" Minhyuk leans closer to my face, and the emotion in his eyes shakes me to the core. "They die."

"You can't kill me!" I yell, struggling in their grasps. "I'm the heir! You know you need me! I'm the only one who is capable and competent enough compared to Rena!"

"I don't need you. As for my precious daughter, Rena, I'm sure she'll do an exceptional job once she's educated and groomed well." He says. "She's my daughter, after all."

I laugh humorlessly before looking up at him with a smirk. "Yeah, your daughter, alright. Do you know that Rena loved stealing what was once mine? I guess it runs in the blood after all."

A loud smack resonates throughout this room as I find my head turning sideways. My left cheek feels a stinging pain from the impact of his palm.

"Sir." Another of his men barges into the room, but this time, the sound of Mary protesting catches my attention. "I found her eavesdropping outside." He roughly throws Mary to the floor.

"Mary, she's your loyal maid, right?" Minhyuk looks at me with a sinister smile.

My eyes harden. "Don't you dare do anything to her."

"Even if I did, you wouldn't be able to do anything." He chuckles before speaking to his men. "Bring her to the 500 central warehouse and prepare the necessary equipment. Make sure to make it look like an accident."

"What about her?" One of his men asks as he nudges his head towards Mary.

"She'll be dealt with later."

But I scream at Mary, "Mary, run!"

And she does so without hesitation, swift enough to catch one of the men off guard. I hope she'll be able to escape.

"Catch her, you fool!" Minhyuk barks at him before the man quickly runs after Mary.

"What is the meaning of this?" I hear my mother's voice from behind. "Minhyuk! What are you doing?!" For the first time, my mother sounds afraid, as though she fears losing me.

Minhyuk glares at her heatedly. "Doing what I should've done years ago. Undoing your mistake, Jihyun."

The next thing I know, something hard hits my head, resulting in me losing consciousness the instant.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

When I regain consciousness, I find myself at an old-looking warehouse. I wince as my head feels heavy while my eyes flutter, looking at my surroundings. I spot some of Minhyuk's men, seeming to be holding cruets with yellowish-looking liquid as they throw the content on every wall, not missing out anything.

I try to move, but as I glance down, I realise that I've been tied to a wooden chair. I wince when I make the slightest movement, feeling pain from my ribcage that was supposed to heal soon.

"You're finally awake! I got bored of waiting." Rena speaks in a sweet yet sickening tone as I slowly look up to see her striding towards me. My heart rate spikes upon seeing a knife in her gloved hand. "Dad gave me permission to follow his men. I mean, someone has to make sure that you won't be able to make it out alive."

"How could you be this heartless?" I ask, my body trembling in anger and despair. "Even if I'm not Minhyuk's biological daughter, I'm still your sister."

"Blood means nothing to me, especially when that person was born out of infidelity." Rena scoffs. "I've always known that you're my half-sister. Father revealed it to me back in elementary school. I was furious because how could you still live freely when you're a constant reminder of mom's mistake?"

"Then why am I being blamed when I didn't ask for any of this to happen?!" My scream is resounding.

In a blink of an eye, Rena plunges the knife into my left thigh, sending my body into a shock before the pain comes. I scream, crying in agony, as she twists the knife deeper into my flesh. The pain is unlike any other.

"You're right!" Rena speaks beside my ear, taking pleasure in my affliction. "It isn't your fault that you were created because of a mistake." Rena looks at me in the eyes and smiles cruelly before she removes the knife from my thigh, which is gushing out blood. "So allow me to do you a favour by undoing our mommy dearest's sin."

I close my eyes as I await the pain, expecting Rena to stab me once more, but nothing happens. Instead, I hear Rena yelp out, and a commotion happens. As I open my eyes, I spot Sunghoon pinning a hysterical Rena to the ground.

At once, chaos erupts with Minhyuk's men fighting against some police officers while I spot familiar faces that make my heart ache.

"I got you, Stel." Riki's voice speaks behind me as I feel him cutting off the ropes around my body.

"What is happening?" I ask, confused but lightheaded due to the blood loss I'm experiencing. As soon as the ropes around me fall to the ground, I feel my body swaying, but Jay manages to catch me in front.

"We're saving you." Jay murmurs, holding me against him as he tries to steady me, but my legs wobble due to how weak I am.

"But how are you here?" I ask languidly as my eyelids feel heavy.

"Mary called Aera." Heeseung appears in front of me with a small cloth. He kneels down to tie the cloth around my thigh to stop the bleeding before continuing to clear my confusion. "Aera came to us for help, to save you."

I try to stand strong on my feet, but the pain on my thigh is unbearable, and I find myself falling into Heeseung, to whom he holds me steady. I breathe heavily as I'm on the brink of losing consciousness for the second time. "I told you that I'm not worth saving." I say to him.

Heeseung looks at me with his jaw tightening. "And I told you that we'd save you in a heartbeat."

Just as I'm about to protest, a burning smell invades my senses before I look at our surroundings in panic. One of the men manages to set the warehouse on fire.

"Get out!" An unfamiliar man dressed in formal attire barks out from afar. "Find the nearest exit!"

"No!" Rena shrieks from behind before we turn around to see Sunghoon on the ground, with blood gushing from his arm, while Rena's knife is redder, stained with blood. "I won't let you live, Hwang Stella!" Her wild eyes look at me before she charges towards me.

"Run!" Jay attempts to drag me with him, but due to my injury, I stumble and fall to the ground. Frantically, I turn around to see an incoming Rena with the tip of the knife pointed towards me.

"Stella!" Jay shouts for me in mortification while I pathetically try to back away.

But Heeseung is swift enough to grab Rena by her arm with ease and pull her away from coming towards me. As Jay tries to help me up, I watch in horror as Rena and Heeseung brawl on the ground. She reaches out for the knife frantically.

"Heeseung!" I yell, the fear in my voice is apparent as he avoids her attack, but in a blink of an eye, she plunges the knife into his stomach, making me cry out for him for the second time.

Boom!

A sudden explosion erupts. I look up in horror. The warehouse is starting to fall apart.

"Ni-Ki! Get Stella out of here!" Jay orders before I feel Riki's presence from behind. Without a word, Riki carries me in a bridal style while Jay runs away.

"Riki! Some of them are still inside!" I cry out, tears streaming down my face.

"Your safety is our top priority, Stel." Riki clenches his jaw while his eyes glisten with tears.

"No!" I cough due to inhaling the smoke that is becoming thick. "We need to save them!" But my plea goes unheard as he continues to find a way out.

"Ni-Ki! Here!" Sunoo is standing by an open door, calling for us. Riki immediately makes a run for the exit, but he almost drops me when there is another explosion. Finally, we manage to exit from the warehouse, but the second they step foot outside, the entire warehouse bursts into flames, resulting in us falling to the ground due to the explosion.

I groan in agony at the impact as I lie on the ground. I look to my sides, noticing Riki unconscious while Sunoo is wincing in pain. We can feel the heat of the flames from this distance.

"Riki." I whimper, my hand trying to reach out to him, but I wince at the pain shooting in my shoulder. My head feels heavy, and I don't even know if I can hold on any longer.

"Stella, hold on." Sunoo's hand grabs mine, but even his grasp feels weak.

Maybe we were never meant to have our own happy ending, as long as they were tied to me. My heart rate seems to be slowing down while my surroundings have become a blur. I hear muffled shouts in the background as my eyelids finally give up on me.

Then, comes the silence as well as the familiar darkness that I can now call a friend.

Am I alive? Or am I dead? I don't know. My surroundings are painted in obsidian. But if I am dead, then why do I feel such warmth coming from someone while my ears are slowly picking up to the sounds of my surroundings?

Beep. Beep. Beep.

I'm not dead. Relief washes over me like a tidal wave. But I can't seem to move as my body feels heavy. I know for a fact that I am capable of making a movement, but it is as if my body refuses to cooperate with me.

Come on, Jake. Move!

Finally, I feel my fingers twitching. Then comes a familiar voice that exclaims in shock. "Jake Oppa!" Charlotte. "Jake's awake!"

After much determination, I manage to flutter my eyelids open but groan at the blinding lights on the ceiling. My body still feels weak, and my throat feels dry as sand. Heck, I feel like I've been brought back from the dead.

"Jake!" Sunoo greets me at the side, hovering over my figure. Tears glisten in his eyes as he smiles down at me. "I'm glad you're awake."

"Oppa." Charlotte holds my hand as she weeps. "I've missed you so much."

With Sunoo's assistance, I slowly sit up with my back leaning against the headboard. I take a look at Charlotte with a frown on my face as I notice how she has grown a little taller. "I've missed you too, Char."

I run my fingers through my hair, but I feel startled by how long the strands are. I look at Sunoo with visible confusion. "How long was I asleep? Weeks?"

A grim expression etches on Sunoo's face. "You were in a coma for eight months, Jake."

It feels as though time has stopped around me. My face drops, as does my heart. I can't believe that I've been in a coma for so long.

"You were in a critical condition. We even thought you wouldn't make it." Sunoo tells me with sad eyes. "But the doctor informed us that you were trying to fight. So we stayed hopeful."

"He's right, Oppa." Char rubs her eyes.

I sigh deeply. "I guess I must've missed out a lot." I chuckle, but I am only met by silence before I dart my eyes at the two. "What? I haven't missed out that much, right?" I still jest. "I can't wait to meet the rest, especially Stella. God, Stella. I haven't even given her a proper apology."

"Oppa," Char tugs at my hand. "Unnie isn't here." She says quietly.

A frown tugs at the corners of my lips. "What do you mean?"

"It means she isn't here, Jake." Sunoo mutters. "She's gone."

The only sound that can be heard in the moment is the sound of my shattering heart.

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#enhypen #enhypen poly #enhypen reverse harem #enhypen x fem oc

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storiesforallfandoms · 1 year

Text

triple date ~ steve harrington;stranger things

part one part two part three part four part five

word count: 3262

request?: no

description: when her sister suggests a group night out to the movies, she struggles to keep up their secret

pairing: steve harrington x female!wheeler!reader

warnings: swearing, mentions of the deaths in the movie sleepaway camp

masterlist (one, two, three)

"Do you have any plans tonight?” Nancy asked the minute she reached my locker.

“Hello to you too, dear sister,” I responded. “You know I don’t have any plans tonight because I am indeed a loser with two friends, one of which is you.”

“Shut up,” she laughed, lightly shoving my shoulder. “A group of us are getting together to go to the movies tonight. You’re coming with us.”

I gave Nancy a look before closing my locker and nodding my head for her to follow me. She fell into step beside me as I asked her, “Who is us exactly?”

“Me, Barb, Jonathan, and Steve.”

I nearly stopped in the middle of the hall, but made myself keep walking. I tried not to let my face give anything away, but internally I was definitely panicking over the idea of hanging out with both Steve and Nancy.

“You can invite Holly if you want,” Nancy added. “I understand if you don’t want to hang out with just my friends.”

“I like Barb,” I said. I decided not to comment on my feelings towards Steve. “What movie are you guys seeing?”

“Some horror movie that Jonathan wants to see. Sleepaway Camp, I think it’s called. I told him I’d only go if we had other people with us because I’m not a horror movie person.”

I gave Nancy a look. “You passed up on the opportunity to be alone with Jonathan during a horror movie?”

She playfully nudged me. “It’s not like that. It...it was a friendly invitation anyways.”

“Does Jonathan know that?” I laughed as Nancy glared at me. “Seriously, Nance, what’s up with you and Jonathan? Have you put a label on whatever is happening, or even tried to?”

She looked like she was contemplating answering, but quickly changed her mind and said, “Do you want to come or not?”

I playfully rolled my eyes. “Yes, I’ll go. I’ll ask Holly if she wants to come with.”

Nancy smiled. Before the conversation could go any further, the warning bell rang. She said her goodbyes and hurried off down the hall towards her class. Once she was gone, I let out a sigh I hadn’t realized I was holding and turned into my classroom. Holly was sat in her usual seat next to mine as I plopped myself down in my seat and turned to her.

“Please tell me you’re free tonight,” I said.

“I have a paper due for Mr. Murphy’s English class,” Holly responded. “But I’m more than happy to procrastinate that. Why?”

“I just told Nancy I’d go to the movies with her tonight, but Steve is also going and I’m gonna need someone there to keep me from word vomiting to Nancy.”

Holly gave me a look. “You’re going to have to tell her eventually. She’s not going to be mad at yo when she’s clearly head over heels for Jonathan Byers.”

“I’ll tell her soon,” I told her, although I wasn’t sure if even I believed that. “It’s coming up on mine and Steve’s first month together. I just want to make sure this is serious first.”

It was yet another excuse that I was using to justify my fear of admitting my relationship with Steve to Nancy. I appreciated Holly trying to reassure me that Nancy would’ve be upset, but I wasn’t sure I fully believed that. I couldn’t imagine a scenario where Nancy wouldn’t be upset over this secret relationship.

“Please will you come?” I begged. “I’ll buy your popcorn.”

She thought for a moment before saying, “My popcorn and my snacks. It’s what I deserve for being forced to fifth wheel on this date.”

“You’re not fifth wheeling. Barb is going, too.”

Holly froze at the mention of Barb’s name. I could see the dozens of thoughts going through her head in that moment. I couldn’t help but smirk to myself as I settled into my desk.

The final bell rang just as Carol scurried into the classroom. She glared at Holly and I as she passed us. I glanced over at Holly, who rolled her eyes.

Tommy and Steve had gotten a month’s worth of after school detention following their lunchtime fight, as well as Tommy getting an additional grounding from his parents the entire time, which meant that for a month Carol wasn’t able to see Tommy outside of schooltime. Carol blamed me for the fight and Tommy’s subsequent punishment, which heightened the negative interactions we had already been having.

It definitely was not making my school experience any better, but I had bigger fish to fry than Carol’s petty drama.

~~~~~~

That night, I was sat in the back of Barb’s car as she drove me and Nancy to the theater. The two of them were talking about something, but I couldn’t focus on anything they were saying. My legs were bobbing anxiously as my mind raced thinking about meeting up with Steve at the theater. I wished Holly had come with us, but she insisted on driving herself.

“Hey (Y/N), are you okay?”

I looked up to see Barb looking at me through her rearview mirror.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” I said. “A little nervous for the movie, I guess.”

“I don’t think it’s going to be that scary,” Barb said.

“That’s because horror movies don’t scare you,” Nancy pointed out. “You love them.”

“Holly loves horror movies, too,” I said, hoping it sounded as subtle as I wanted to.

I definitely noticed the look on Barb’s face and felt a slight swell of pride in my chest.

I trailed behind my sister and her friend as we approached the movie theater. I could see familiar figures waiting as we got closer. Holly was in the middle of saying something when Jonathan noticed us and waved. Steve turned to face us and I felt my heart skip a beat. His eyes landed on me and a smile tugged at the corners of his lips.

“Hey guys,” Jonathan said. “We already got the tickets just so the movie wouldn’t sell out before you got here. We were thinking three of us go save the seats while the others get the snacks.”

“That works for me,” Nancy said, and we all agreed to the plan.

We decided that Holly, Barb, and Nancy would save the seats while Steve, Jonathan, and I got the snacks. Jonathan was stood at the counter ordering when Steve slipped a hand into my back pocket and leaned in close to my ear.

“Do you want to share a bag of popcorn?” he whispered.

It was such an innocent and mundane thing, but it still sent a shiver running down my spine.

“S-sure,” I replied. Steve smiled and gave my butt a squeeze before removing his hand from my back pocket. “But I still have to get snacks for Holly. I kind of bribed her to come out tonight.”

Steve chuckled and snuck in a quick kiss before Jonathan turned around.

When we finally got the snacks and arrived at the theater playing our movie, we found the three girls sat near the back of the theater. Holly was sat at the end next to Barb, with Nancy on the other side of Barb, and three empty seats beside Nancy. Jonathan seemed hesitant to sit next to her, glancing once at Steve while he contemplated it, but I nudged him forward to silently encourage him to do so.

That led the last two seats to be for me and Steve.

I passed Holly her snacks and moved past the group to get to our seats. Steve sat next to Jonathan, leaving me the furthest away from Nancy. I wasn’t sure if that would make it easier or harder to hide our secret from her.

The lights went out and the movie started. It seemed very campy - pun definitely intended - so I wasn’t sure what to expect horror wise. I was starting to agree with Barb on the fact that the movie wasn’t going to be scary until one of the first almost kills; the creepy cook getting a pot of boiling hot water dumped on him, causing him to break out into painful looking hives and blisters. I gasped at how disgusting his skin looked as the character’s screams filled the theater. Steve looked over at me and put an arm around my shoulder.

“Don’t be scared,” he whispered. “Honestly, that guys deserved it. He’s a fucking creep.”

“I’m not scared, I’m disgusted,” I responded. “That looked brutal.”

It wasn’t until a few scenes later, where the body of the first actual victim appeared on screen and I hid myself against Steve’s chest that I realized how close we had gotten. I snuck a glance towards the other four, fearing that Steve and I had been caught, only to find that each couple was having their own moment together. Nancy was similarly cuddled up to Jonathan, her head on his shoulder as she peaked up at the screen, while Barb and Holly had started sharing a bag of popcorn and were almost laughing at the movie.

Steve ran a hand through my hair soothingly. It hadn’t realized how tense my body had become (from the movie or from the fear of getting caught I wasn’t sure), but his actions helped to calm me down. I settled against him, deciding not to worry about who would see us and to instead enjoy this moment with Steve before it was gone.

If I had to rate the movie on a scale from 1-10 in the scary department, I probably would’ve given it a solid 7.5. It wasn’t too scary, but the kills were interesting, and the twist ending left me with my jaw on the floor. I was still trying to regain my thoughts as the lights went back up and everyone else started to move away.

“(Y/N), you gotta let go of my arm,” Steve said.

At some point before the movie ended, Steve had moved his arm from around my shoulder to more discreetly holding my hand while I was deep into the movie. I guess I had also started gripping onto his arm at some point because I hadn’t noticed until he pointed it out.

I mumbled a shy, “Sorry”, and dislodged myself from him.

“That’s gonna leave a mark,” he teased. “I’ll send you the medical bills.”

I smiled at him, but I couldn’t help but notice that everyone had stood and was looking at us, waiting. I stood from my seat and followed the group from the theater, a little sad that my time with Steve was quickly coming to an end.

Barb and Holly announced they had to go to the bathroom, which Nancy and Steve also agreed to, so I was left to stand with Jonathan while we waited. I hadn’t had many conversations with Jonathan. I thought he was nice enough guy, and his brother was one of Mike’s closest friends. We just didn’t run in the same circles or anything. Although, that was the same with me and Steve, and look where that had gotten us.

Since I was alone with Jonathan, I decided to finally get his side of the story about him and Nancy.

“So,” I started, drawing his attention to me, “Jonathan Byers, what are your intentions with my sister?”

He started to laugh, but I could hear the awkwardness behind his laugh. A blush started creeping up his neck, which told me all I needed to know before he even spoke.

“I...um...I don’t know,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “We’re just...friends?”

I raised an eyebrow at him. “Is that a question or a statement?”

“I don’t know,” he repeated. “I...I really like her, though. And I think she likes me, too.”

“I know she likes you.”

His face brightened at this. “She does?”

I nodded. “Trust me, I’ve seen her face when she brings you up. It’s like you’re the most amazing thing on the planet to her. She really likes you, and I think, if you were to ask her out in a romantic way, she’d say yes in a heartbeat.”

Jonathan looked down at the ground, a wide smile on his face. I think it would be an understatement to say he loved my sister. There was a connection between them that couldn’t be denied. They both just had to grow a pair and acknowledge it.

Before anything else could be said, Nancy approached the two of us. She looked over at Jonathan’s smiling face and mirrored his expression. I glanced over at Jonathan to make sure he was seeing what I was seeing.

“What are you two talking about?” she asked.

“Nothing,” Jonathan and I said at the same time.

She looked suspicious, but didn’t push the subject matter. “Barb and Holly are still in the bathroom. They’re too busy talking about the movie and how not scary they think it is.”

“I wonder what it’s like to not be afraid of anything,” I said. “Maybe they can teach us that.”

“I don’t think there’s anything wrong with being a little afraid of a movie that’s supposed to scare you,” Steve said as he approached us. “Besides, your little gasps whenever something scary happened were hilarious.”

I sent him a playful glare, but he returned it with a wink behind Nancy’s back and immediately melted away my facade.

When Holly and Barb finally joined us, we made our way towards the exit. Everyone was excitedly talking about the movie now, exchanging our own thoughts and opinions on it. I was about to follow Barb and Nancy to where Barb had parked her car when Holly reached out and grabbed my arm to stop me.

“Hey, I’ll bring you home,” she said. “I need some help with - uh - school stuff.”

I raised an eyebrow at her strange tone of voice, but decided to go along with it. I told Nancy I’d see her back at home and watched as she followed Barb towards Barb’s car.

“What school stuff do you want to talk about?” I asked Holly.

“Nothing, actually,” she responded. “But Steve asked me if I could come up with some sort of excuse to say that you’d be coming with me so that he could be the one to drive you home.”

I looked over at Steve who was still talking Jonathan. He glanced over at me and smiled for a split second, a smile just for me, before turning his attention back to the oldest Byers boy. Butterflies filled my stomach, which I didn’t think could be possible after the two of us dating for nearly a month, but he was constantly surprising me. He made every day with him feel like the first all over again.

When Jonathan finally left, I said goodbye to Holly and followed Steve to his car. As we walked across the parking lot, he slid his hand into him and interlaced our fingers. I looked over at him and, for a lack of a better word, internally swooned over how beautiful he was; the way the moon was lighting up his face, his hair bouncing perfectly with every step he took, the way his hand felt like his hand fit in mine like perfect puzzle pieces connecting together. It still couldn’t believe that I was lucky enough to call him mine.

“If you take a picture it’ll last longer,” he teased as we reached his car.

“Don’t tempt me, Harrington,” I teased back. He chuckled and opened the car door for me. “Ever the gentleman.”

“Always,” he said.

As he started up his car and pulled out of the Starcourt Mall parking lot, I wished he didn’t have to take me home. I would go anywhere with him right now if it meant just getting to have this time together to be an actual couple and not to hide our relationship from everyone.

"Are you worried about what people will say when they find out we’re dating?” I asked.

Steve looked over at me. “What? No, of course not. Why would I be?”

The answer to that question felt obvious. I looked over to see if Steve was joking, but I could see the serious look etched on his face. “Because you’re the big popular guy, and I’m the nerdy math girl. Aren’t you worried how that will, like, effect your social standing.”

Steve scoffed. “Like I give a shit about that. There’s nothing to popularity, (Y/N). Everyone seems to wish for it, but the only time it’s ever a good thing is if you’re a jackass like Tommy and Carol, or that new Billy kid. The type of person who likes to make others feel small and who likes to boss around people they think are lesser than. It’s not something I’m striving to keep.”

He had a point. Up until I actually got to know Steve, I would’ve been convinced that he thrived on the popularity. He was at the very top of the Hawkins High School food chain, the number one in high school popularity. But, ever since getting to know him, I’ve come to realize that wasn’t him at all and, like he said, popularity was nothing.

“Are you worried about what people will say?” he asked me.

I shook my head almost immediately. “I’m only worried about what Nancy will say.”

“I understand that, but you can’t keep this a secret from her forever.”

I sighed. “I know. Everyone keeps reminding me.”

He reached over and took my hand in his as I realized we had pulled up to my house. I looked up at him again and he smiled while giving my hand a reassuring squeeze. “I don’t want to push you into telling her if you’re not ready. But whenever you do want to tell her, I’ll be there with you if you want.”

I smiled and leaned over to kiss him. He cupped my cheek in one hand, pulling me back to him as I tried to pull away from the kiss. I giggled at the gesture and eventually managed to free myself from him after another few kisses.

“I’ll see you later,” he said.

“See you later,” I responded.

I was reluctant to get out of the car, but I managed to pull myself away from the magnetizing charm that was Steve Harrington. I walked up to the front door, paused before opening it to turn back and wave at Steve, before I finally walked into my house. My entire body felt light and fuzzy as I started up the stairs.

“Hey (Y/N).”

I jumped and turned to see Mike standing at the bottom of the steps.

“What are you doing, you weirdo?” I asked.

“I was just getting a snack before going back to my campaign,” he explained. “Heard a car pull up and decided to see who it was.”

“It’s just me,” I said. “So you can go back to your fantasy game without the worry of a crazed burglar trying to break in or whatever.”

I turned to start up the stairs again, but Mike cut me off by saying, “But it wasn’t just you. It was also Steve Harrington.”

I froze and slowly turned back to him. “He drove me home from the movie. Nancy came home with Barb.”

“Yeah, but Nancy didn’t kiss Barb when Barb brought her home.”

And just like that, my euphoric feeling came crashing down around me.

Me? Making Barb WLW with my own OC? Yes, yes I am.

Taglist!: @itjustkindahappenedreally @ladyfallonavenger @sleepylunarwolf @pandoraneverland @kindablackenedsuperhero @callsignwidow @palmtreesx3 @phantomxoxo @bdalas

If you want to be tagged, let me know!

#steve harrington #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington series #joe keery #joe keery imagine #joe keery x reader #joe keery series #stranger things #stranger things imagine #stranger things series #imagine #series #fanfiction #fanfic #fandom

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tgmsunmontue · 5 months

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More than movie magic... 16/24

Hangster AU. Explicit (eventually). Jake is a Hollywood actor and Bradley is a stunt coordinator. Jake's about to make a few self-discoveries. So is Bradley.

ONE TWO THREE FOUR FIVE SIX SEVEN EIGHT NINE TEN ELEVEN TWELVE THIRTEEN FOURTEEN FIFTEEN

Chapter 16 is pretty much the only explicit chapter, so you can skip it if you like.

SIXTEEN

They make their way to his trailer, although Bradley seems intent on stopping and kissing him about every twenty paces, and he tries to tell him they can do more once they get to his trailer, but Bradley doesn’t seem hurried in the slightest, seems more than happy to take his time and make out with Jake against every vertical surface they pass, be it building, tree or vehicle. Apparently the journey is just as important as the destination, but Jake would really like to get naked and make it to the destination, if that’s finally having an orgasm with Bradley in close proximity.

The door to his trailer has a pin code; fortunately he always uses the same one and he pushes the door open, squints as the lights come on automatically and quickly reaches to dim them. His eyes adjust and he stares at the gift basket sitting on the bed and he rubs at his face. Condoms, lube, bottles of water and fucking protein bars, along with an assortment of other snacks. He knew his mom had been too friendly and she knows the code and he should have known she’d get a good dig in, even as sweet and considerate as it is.

“Uh… I’m going to assume from your reaction that you didn’t put this here?” Bradley asks, and he’s not removed his hands from Jake’s body since they left the barn; is pressed along Jake’s back now, hand beneath his shirt and Jake pushes himself back against him.

“I’d put money on it being my mom.”

“I’ll be sure to thank her.”

Jake would roll his eyes, because Bradley seems just as bad as his mom, but Bradley is placing little butterfly kisses down his neck and it feels amazing, little paths of zinging arousal sparking through his body and he can’t be anything but turned on right now.

“Blinds, close the blinds… We need to close the blinds.”

That makes Bradley pull away, and he’s efficient, the blinds all quickly pulled down into place, basket moved off the bed and then he’s back in Jake’s space, kissing him again, hands back touching, one under his shirt and just resting on his bare skin above the waistband of his jeans, other hand cupping Jake’s face as he kisses him. It’s soft, sweet and gentle, like they’re both careful and a little worried about scaring the other off and it thrills him, makes him feel treasured but equally justified in his care. Despite it only being a few days he doesn’t feel like he’s rushing into this.

Bradley’s fingers work at the buttons of his shirt, pushing fabric off his shoulders, light kisses placed over his collar and then his chest. Jake works at Bradley’s own shirt buttons, fingers a little unsteady but he knows it isn’t nerves, more excitement and anticipation than anything else. They’ve seen other shirtless, well, he assumes Bradley has seen him shirtless, he’s pretty much shirtless for a lot of his parts. He’s remembering Bradley shirtless, seeing scar tissue and he runs his fingers over the puckered or shiny-smooth patches of skin, finally feeling like he’s allowed to touch.

It’s the slide of warm naked skin, exploring hands and lips licking, tasting, sucking. They’re just making out, exactly what they’ve done the last couple of nights, except this time they’re half-naked, a bed only meters away and clearly neither of them intend to pull back or call a halt to their evening.

“God I want you…” Jake groans out.

“Yeah? How bad?”

“Bradley, please…”

“Oh… you going to beg me baby?”

Jake hasn’t begged for anything. Ever. But he’s considering it right now. Also he’s never been called baby before, doesn’t know if he likes it yet. God he’s looking forward to finding out.

“Do you want me to?”

“No, just ask me real pretty… let your accent come out nice and clear…”

“You like my accent darlin’?” Jake asks, and the groan and press of firm body against him is all the answer he needs and he didn’t realize that having someone get turned on simply by his voice would do things for him. More things that is, because Bradley has his hand on Jake’s ass, pulling him close and fuck it feels good.

… … ..

“It’s been a while,” Jake says, voice quiet and breathy and he sounds very very Texan, and yeah, he knows now that sex is going to make Jake sound fantastic. Part of Bradley wants to ask exactly how long it’s been, but he also doesn’t care. If Jake says it has, then it’s by his own standards and Bradley will learn what those are eventually.

“Yeah, for me too…” Bradley replies, hopes Jake knows he’s trying to commit every moment to his memory. Wanting to slow down time so he can enjoy their first time together. No reason to hurry, no matter how much Jake seems to want to, fingers tugging at the button on his jeans and Bradley helps, doesn’t stop kissing across his chest, or remove his hand from his waist, where one of Jake’s hands is undoing his fly and then pushing his pants down and Bradley helps, because they clearly both want to be naked.

“Gorgeous…” Bradley murmurs under his breath, because Jake is of course a stunningly attractive man, his body is part of that package and he knows he works hard to look like this and he presses their bodies head-to-toe against one another, hums appreciatively under his breath and kisses him again before resuming his exploration of Jake’s body. His body is hard muscles and endless golden skin, marred only by what he guesses is a small appendectomy scar. His body hair is golden blond, barely visible where it’s too sparse to see in the dim light, but thicker happy trail and he teases his fingers in the hair.

Jake is biting his lip, watching him silently, although his own hands are exploring Bradley’s body just as attentively and he doesn’t miss that Jake seems to like some of his scars. They slowly make their way toward the bed, laying down carefully, eyes not leaving each other’s faces and Jake draws Bradley on top of him and his breath stutters in his chest. Jake is still watching him, blinks slowly and Bradley leans down, capturing Jake’s lips again, presses a leg between his. Jake’s hard against his thigh and Bradley moans against Jake’s lips, feels Jake’s breath hitch.

“I said it’s been a while,” Jake mutters, “not that you needed to go slow.”

“Maybe I enjoy slow… maybe you’re just impatient,” Bradley says, and he sits back up, stares down at the body spread beneath him and he wants to devour and worship in equal parts, wants Jake to know that’s how he’s feeling.

“Seen enough?” Jake asks, legs spreading in invitation and Bradley shakes his head, settles his mouth around Jake’s right nipple and sucking, enjoys the arch of his body against him.

“Nope. Not even close.”

“Bradley…”

“Yeah?”

“Don’t tease…”

“Not teasing baby. Fully intend to follow through.”

“Oh.”

He doesn’t know if it’s the pet name or the fact that they’ve been working toward this for the last two days, but Jake’s voice sounds beautiful, eyes blown wide with desire and Bradley runs a hand over Jake’s cock for the first time, watches him arch into the touch again and yeah, he knows what he wants to do. Jakes eyes have slipped closed, his entire body flexing like it’s seeking more friction and Bradley kisses him, tries to push everything he’s feeling into it while he reaches blindly for the lube he’d tossed from the basket toward the pillows when he’d moved it out of the way. He can’t find it, so he has to pull back and look properly, finds it snagged in the pillowcase cover and he can feel Jake watching him through almost closed eyes as he twists the pump lid to open it, feels his entire body thrum as he brings their cocks together with his right hand.

“You going to let me hear you?” Bradley asks, hand moving on them both, his hips flexing ever so slightly, wanting to chase the sensation. Jake’s own hips rock as well and he wonders if lying side-by-side would be better. This is good for now.

“Bradley… oh god. Come on. Please. Bradley…” Jake says, and his accent is thick and broken and he can’t help but feel pleased with himself.

“Yeah. You’re incredible. Gorgeous.”

Then Jake is leaning up, propping himself up on his arms, muscles bunching in his arms and chest to kiss him and it’s harder, more bruising and god, if they thought the beard burn was bad today, tomorrow is going to be terrible. He lets go, ignores the whine that Jake makes, shifts to lie on his side and pulls Jake to him, throws a leg over Jake’s and tucks them close, aligning their cocks before going back to working them in his hand.

They can kiss constantly, he can feel Jake’s hands all over him, the rocking of their bodies into the tight grip of his hand, sweat and slick easing the way. Bradley can feel his blood rushing in his ears, everything close to the surface, his body wound tight with the effort of delaying the inevitable, of making this last. The sounds Jake makes when he comes sound so close to a sob Bradley has to check that he isn’t actually crying. He isn’t, simply looks blissed out, mouth wide open, eyes fluttering and his bottom lip is swollen and trembling; Bradley kisses it, falling apart as he comes.

They stay entwined, heart rates coming down, breath mingling, trading soft kisses, hands clasped and it feels perfect. Eventually Bradley pulls away and reaches for his discarded shirt, uses it to clean them both up as best he can before pulling the blankets out from beneath them and snuggling up against Jake’s side.

SEVENTEEN

#Hangster #Sereshaw #more than movie magic #Top Gun Maverick

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another-whump-sideblog · 5 months

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Jane's Pets Chapter 98: Aftermath

TWs in the tags

Masterlist

Puppy can't stop crying, and she doesn't know why.

This is good. Great, even. If Master could've prevented herself from healing, it would've come up by now, she's 98% sure of that. This is exactly what Master wanted. This means they won't be hurt anymore. She should be overjoyed.

But there's that 2% of doubt. The fear that this is a test makes Puppy want to put her muzzle and collar right back on. Every second she doesn't is another infraction, another reason for Master to punish her. Still, that's not the reason she's crying. It's something deeper than fear.

Is she grieving? For Master? She wanted to die. This is the best thing for everyone. The world has already gotten better because she died.

Still, it hurts to look at Master's body. She looks the same as any mudered child would. Puppy had always thought Master's corpse would be smiling if she somehow managed to die, but it's not. She just looks like a corpse, like someone sleeping with their eyes open.

Puppy closes Master's eyes. She really doesn't know why she's crying. Why is this so painful? This is the good ending. The outcome so good that she tried not to even think about it as a possibility because hope just hurts. If she can't be happy now, will she ever be happy?

She supposes that if Master's death didn't cause her suffering, she wouldn't have been able to kill Master at all. Maybe this is just how the magic works. She hopes it doesn't last long, she's not much use to Kitty and Bunny like this.

Strong arms wrap her in a hug.

"It's okay, it's okay." Bunny says, gently rocking back and forth. "We're safe, it's okay, it's okay for the first time in years. We're okay. And it's okay to cry. Let it all out, no one's going to stop you."

She lays her head on his shoulder and cries until she has no tears left, which isn't long at all. She's going to have to drink water without permission, eventually. She shudders.

“It would’ve come up by now if she could… leave her wounds open like that, right? In your opinion?”

Puppy nods.

“That’s what I thought! Like, I don’t think she had the patience for such a long trick.”

Puppy doesn’t either, but she's been wrong before.

“Um… I know it’s probably going to take a while for you to feel comfortable talking. That’s okay. It took me a while to feel comfortable without the collar, when I was… gone. And it’ll probably take a while again. So just know… it’s okay. There’s no rush. But also, I’m really excited to talk to you again, whether that’s today or years from now or anything in between. I’m excited to get to know you outside of Jane’s control— and to get to know Kitty outside of Jane’s control, and for you two to know me.”

It was just days ago that Puppy broke his hands. He was able to heal them, with Kitty’s help, but she still did it. It scares her, that he thinks there’s a real her hidden beneath what Master made her into. What if he’s wrong? It’ll hurt him so badly when he realizes he’s wrong…

Because she didn’t have to break his hands. Jane didn’t make her do that, she did that to stop Bunny from casting because she thought it was impossible for Master to die, and she was wrong. She made the wrong choice, and that’s not some simple mistake. She broke the hands of one of the two people she loves most in the world for no reason. She only made things worse.

She wants to apologize. She tries, but just the thought of speaking makes her throat close up with fear.

She thinks maybe this is part of why she was crying. She did so many horrible things under the assumption that there was no alternative, and it turns out there was. Master’s death is the death of her ability to justify how much she’s hurt people. She can’t push away her guilt without that justification, and it swallows her whole.

She should just die. She’s just like Master, the world would be better without her. Death was the answer to Master's problems, so it can be hers, too. She should just stay by Master’s side until she dies of dehydration like Master would want her to do. That would help the others, too, because Master would never let her die so quickly if she was just tricking them, so they could be even more sure Master is truly dead.

“I think… we should go upstairs.” Kitty says from somewhere behind her. “I don’t want to be here if we don’t have to.”

Puppy shakes her head. She’s not going to leave Master’s side. It’s the best for everyone.

Bunny hugs her a little tighter. “Puppy shook her head. Um… I don’t want any of us to be left alone right now…”

Kitty sighs. “Alright. So… what do we do now?”

Puppy wishes she could go upstairs. Obviously Bunny and Kitty don’t want to be here, and they’re staying for her. Just more suffering she’s causing them.

Bunny is quiet for a moment. "…What if it's not real? I feel so sure that if she could do that while she was alive she would've done it by now… but I felt so sure that Barron's magic could protect me, too. And that she was a safe person to follow home in the first place. And even after all the times I tried… it feels too easy."

"Well, you had doubts… you just pushed them away, right?"

"Well, yeah… Yeah, I guess that's it. I don't want to push the doubts away this time, and I'm afraid she's not actually dead." He goes quiet again, then starts laughing. "Fuck, I'm so stupid. If she's dead, magic won't work anymore, right?"

Bunny lets go of Puppy and gets up. "Magic doesn't work if you're trying to prove something, so I'll try to heal one of you. Um… I'm more certain that it might work on the Puppy's pressure sores than on acid burns, so I'll try that first."

Puppy lies down on the ground facing Master while Bunny collects his materials. Master's blood is mostly dry now.

Bunny says some words and does his thing, and Puppy doesn't feel anything change.

"We would definitely know if she could just… get rid of magic, right?"

Puppy nods. Master hated mages. The chance of her having the ability to get rid of all mages and not using it until now is even lower than the chance of her having the ability to not instantly heal and not using it until now.

"So– I mean, I could've wanted to prove she was dead badly enough to skew the results, but still. I also really wanted to heal you. This is– we have much more evidence that we're free this time than we ever had before, right? So we're not pushing away doubts, we're disproving them! Like, I ignored the sketchy things going on here when I first got here. I ignored how certain you and Puppy were that escaping wouldn't work, and how magic doesn't affect Jane the same way as it does everything else, when my only evidence I was safe was Barron's magic. I ignored evidence, but I'm not this time. The only evidence we have that she's alive is that she's tricked us before. And if we encounter more evidence, we definitely shouldn't ignore that, but for now… I think we can assume we're free. That's– that's what the evidence points to."

"Right, right. And… the worst that could happen if we assume she's dead and we're wrong is torture. Which is bad, obviously, but if we assume she's still alive and we're wrong… we'd torture ourselves trying to stick to her rules. And Puppy would die, because those rules include her not eating or drinking without permission. I'd… honestly prefer the former."

"Yeah, yeah!"

Their voices have slowly filled with excitement throughout the conversation. Puppy's happy for them. Once she's dead, they most likely won't ever have to worry about being tortured again.

"So– okay, I think our first step is– well, I'm thinking obviously we want to move out of here as soon as possible, right?" Bunny asks.

"Right. We can pack up some clothes and food, and Puppy will probably want to take her plushies. Everything else we can leave behind."

Puppy stops staring at Master's corpse for a moment and looks at the others. They should sell a bunch of this stuff, but how can she tell them that? She can't force herself to speak no matter how hard she tries. She turns back to Master.

"Where do you think we should go once we're packed?" Bunny is pacing the room excitedly.

“Well, Puppy knows how to get to the nearest grocery store, so that’s at least a start. Once we’re… around some other people… it’ll probably be easier to figure out our other options.”

“Hmm… Puppy, do you feel good about that plan?”

Puppy shakes her head.

“...Okay, so the first step is all getting on the same page. Do you want to keep living in this house?” Bunny’s voice is full of determination, the same way it was whenever he’d talk about killing Jane.

Puppy shakes her head. She doesn’t want to live at all.

“So we’re on the same page there, at least.” Kitty says. “Sorry for not checking sooner. Do you feel good about us packing up some food, clothes, and sentimental items before leaving?”

Puppy sits up and makes a 'so-so' gesture.

"Um… is there something else you think we should bring?"

Puppy makes another 'so-so' gesture.

"Hm…"

Both Kitty and Bunny seem fairly stumped. Puppy guesses that's fair, she probably wouldn't be able to figure out what she meant either if she was in their shoes. Even if she can nonverbally convey that she wants them to sell stuff, how could she instruct them on who to sell it to avoid unwanted questions?

She'll have to write it down. The idea scares her, but not as much as the idea of speaking does. She guesses she's never actually been punished for writing or signing without permission, because by the time those rules were established she was already very obedient. Thinking of speaking without permission brings to mind burning hot barbed wire digging into every part of her body, but thinking of writing without permission just brings up a general fear of disobedience.

She can't die yet. Bunny and Kitty need her. She'll probably have to be the one to actually sell the stuff, too. She sighs and scoops Master's body into her arms, then heads upstairs.

A/N: Let me know if I should tag anything else, or if you want to be added to or removed from the tag list!

Tag list: @eatyourdamnpears @whump-in-the-closet @scp-1296 @thecosmicmap @quins-whump-stuff

@fuckcapitalismasshole

#whump #whump writing #whumpblr #intimate whumper #creepy whumper #nonhuman whumper #multiple whumpees #pet whump #whumpee #whumper #man i might have to stop adding that tag soon...#whump caretaker #3rd person pov #torture mention tw #blood mention tw #child death tw #kinda #suicidal ideation tw #jane's pets

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superfluouskeys · 10 months

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wip wednesday! (it is thursday)

Thank you so much @thevikingwoman for the tag!! As is becoming custom I am here to drop some nonsense from before school beat me with a stick. Idk how close ghost of you part 3 is to being done because I'm pretty sure it's gonna end up having a part 4 LOL, but here is the beginning!

I'm not gonna tag anyone rn bc I lack the brain capacity but pls feel free to share and pretend I tagged you! It's wip wednesday-thursday ♥

Moiraine always had a knack for compartmentalizing. She never thought much about it, really, it was just the way her mind worked. She was like her father, who could love his family one day and very nearly forget they existed the next, because he was so involved in his latest project that he had simply…tucked them safely away somewhere, to be loved properly at a more convenient time.

Anvaere’s mind does not work the same way, and nor did their mother’s. For them, Father’s occasional abandonment seeped into everything around it, the proverbial fruit of the poisonous tree. By their estimation, he did not get to love them one day and leave them the next, and in retrospect, Moiraine supposes she can understand that.

In practice it was rather miserable, though. Anvaere moped, while their mother made a hobby of building resentment.

Moiraine considers in passing that she’s doing a rather magnificent job of encompassing both of her family’s tried and true traditions in her misery, hiding herself away most of the time, but still managing to make the whole place intolerable when she is present.

It would be much easier, she thinks, if Lan would just leave her alone. Neither Verrin nor Adeleas has any desire for Moiraine’s company—and rightly so. They are perfectly happy to aid their sister in her time of need without demanding the wretched details. One doesn’t hear much about women being stilled, but then again, one doesn’t need to. The mention alone is chilling. They understand even without any comparable experience.

But Lan keeps on knocking at her door, keeps inviting her to meals, inviting her on walks, inviting her to do anything, anything at all, anything she wants, and she doesn’t know how to tell him that there is nothing she wants anymore, and there never can be.

She tells herself it is something of a relief to be free of the notion that she might set herself right again. It would have been a colossal waste of time. Better to be done with it now and move onto what is important. After all, she herself hardly matters. She let Rand go because she’d thought the matter was done with, but she realized quickly that it wasn’t, and now she needs to ascertain what will come next.

It’s something to occupy her mind, but there’s no joy in chasing down the mystery. Her days are filled with dead ends and tiresome visitors who overplay their hands. They misjudge Moiraine because the way to determine how much leverage one holds is to guess what the other person wants, what the other person cares for, and they do not understand that Moiraine wants nothing and cares for nothing.

In all their years traveling together, Lan has never once snapped at her like that. There was a time when it would have brought her a sick sort of delight. She used to try all the time to get a rise out of him, to make him lash out at her so she could feel justified cutting him off. She’d never had someone so steady in her life, and it confused and frightened her.

His outburst reaches her, in a way. She realizes she can’t go on like this hoping he’ll eventually stop trying. She resolves to leave under cover of night, hoping at least that he is angry enough with her not to notice her missing right away.

She hadn’t counted on three Fades. One, perhaps, if she were very unlucky. But Moiraine herself is not particularly important, and certainly not at the moment. She led the Dragon to the Eye of the World, yes, but it’s not as though the Dark didn’t get something out of that. By all accounts she should be less than nothing now. An Aes Sedai who cannot channel? Who has no Warder, no family, no friends left to look out for her?

With a terrible lurching sensation, suddenly Moiraine is in two places at once. She is here and not here, lying on the ground outside Verrin’s estate and back at the Eye of the World, and somehow, Lan has found her yet again. He finds her without the bond, without magic, without anything to guide him. Moiraine feels more than she’s felt in months. She feels angry, and relieved, and devastated. He can’t be here. They cannot keep doing this.

If Moiraine is still a target, then she has to get Lan away from her. She can’t keep him safe like this, and he’ll die trying to protect her because it’s what he’s sworn to do. She doesn’t know what she’s been doing up until now, hoping he’d tire of her coldness and drift away on his own. It was selfish of her. She didn’t want to strike the killing blow, make him really hate her, make the split impossible to reconcile.

But what would be really, unforgivably selfish would be to keep him around when she knows it will get him killed. It would be a senseless death, defending something that’s no longer worth the price.

Necessity doesn’t make the burden any easier to bear.

#exciting tag for writing things #well i was TRYING to figure out how i tag ghost of you #but i can't find it on my blog atm lol so #idk uhhhh #wheel of time #wheel of time fanfic #moiraine damodred #moiraine x lan #something like that right

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finerllines · 2 years

Text

love, harry [bestfriend!h au]

a/n: hello everyone i hope yall are still here and reading!! im so sorry it took so long i had a major slump for a couple of months but now im back and im so excited to wrap up charlie and harry's story. thank you for reading!! please give me feedback, comment, and reblog if you enjoyed <3

summary: harry needs his best friend back and he will do anything to get her to love him back

wc: 11k+

tw: none :-)

prev part

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One of the main occupational hazards of being a touring musician is missing things. Eventually, people learn to stop sending invitations. Just as well, it gets harder and harder to find new ways to say ‘sorry, I’ve got work’. When most of the people you grew up with have moved out of your small town, onto bigger and better things, home just becomes wherever you manage to stay for more than a month.

And that’s fine. That’s all Harry can really remember. Life became a matter of watching everyone else’s from a distance. Everyone’s except one.

Charlie.

Instead of Instagram stories and posts, it was personal photos and little vlogs about her day sent straight to him, for his eyes only. He doesn’t know what he did to earn her trust and love, but he has never taken it for granted. Somehow, she was never deterred by his lack of attendance, congratulatory texts and video calls thankfully being enough. Or it was enough, until she got pregnant.

He had worked so hard to show her it’s okay to open up and let people in again, and he went and pissed it all away. But he is determined to not let her shut him out again. Which is why he’s back at her front door, on four hours of sleep, still exhausted from the show the night before.

Nothing brings you back down to earth like standing in front of a door after performing in front of five thousand people, hands filled with grovelling supplies, shaking as it raises to knock.

Despite the many women he’s dated, grovelling is new to him. He likes to think he’s a pretty good boyfriend - he’s attentive, patient, and thoughtful. But by the time they get to the point where he would need to grovel, he normally already has one foot out the door, so instead of trying to make amends he accepts their fate and ends things. Cruel? Sure. But it’s the truth. He’s never really loved or cared about anyone enough to want to make the extra effort.

Except Charlie. And Charlie has never been mad at him.

Until now. Justifiably so.

It’s not that Harry doesn’t want to have this conversation, it’s all he’s wanted to do since their call, he just doesn’t know where to start.

Should he bring up the pure rage he felt when he saw the pictures of them and Richard? Or is that something he should save for later, after he has figured all of that out himself? He’s a jealous guy, everyone knows that, but he’s never felt jealousy so ugly and intense like that before, it felt so primitive and guttural; the near uncontrollable urge to remind Richard, and everyone, that Charlie does not belong to him. Problem is, Charlie doesn’t belong to him either. And neither does Rory. Less so now than ever.

He used to think he feels so strongly about her because she is a piece of his childhood, a piece of the Harry he used to be. Now, these feelings are undeniably romantic. None of her previous partners ever felt like a real threat because he was always confident that their history and the connection is stronger than anything these men would have to offer her. Then Richard made a baby with her. Talk about a connection.

Those weeks spent with Rory and Charlie were bliss. There hasn’t been a day spent without thinking about how they were doing since: whether Rory ate all her breakfast, or whether Charlie found the time to watch an episode of Taskmaster with a glass of wine. And when the domestic got too emotional for him, he would start to wonder what her skin would feel like if he ran his hand under her shirt, or what sounds she would make if he nuzzled his nose in the crook of her neck, peppering it with soft kisses and licks.

But none of that is as important as their friendship. So, until he figures out all of that out for himself, he needs to focus on apologising and begging for forgiveness.

Taking a deep breath, he wipes his palms on his thighs before knocking the door. While waiting, he talks himself through more deep breaths. It’s a good thing he did because when the door gets pulled open his breath hitches a little.

Finally seeing the person you’ve been missing and thinking about is almost life giving. Charlie is stunning, even in an old robe and a braid that looks like it was slept in.

“Harry, hi.”

He had been mentally bracing himself for iciness in her voice. Instead, all he hears is wariness, and half of her body remains hidden behind the door

Charlie is wary of him. Shit.

“Um, H?” she asks when he doesn’t respond.

“Hi,” he raises a hand as a greeting on instinct, forgetting that he’s holding a bouquet of flowers. “Can I come in?”

“Yeah, of course.” She replies as if it’s ridiculous that he has to ask, but she can't see how guarded she looks right now.

A wave of déjà vu hits. The uncertainty and ball of emotion in his belly reminds Harry of the day he came to confront Charlie about having a baby.

She walks in front of him guiding him to the kitchen.

“Rory’s just eaten breakfast, I’m getting started on mine. You can join me if you’d like.”

In the kitchen playing with a hand towel is the most cheerful baby. The smile that emerges on his face is instinctive, and it’s fortunately shared by Rory. He’s not sure if it’s wishful thinking but he thinks he sees her eyes light up with recognition. He wants to pick her up and cuddle her close, for his own comfort more than anything, but he reminds himself of the agenda and redirects his attention to his best friend.

Standing in the middle of her kitchen, kind of stupidly, he thrusts his hands forward, like a young boy presenting a gift to his crush for the first time.

“For you.”

Her brows quirk up. “For me?”

He nods. “Who else?”

“I don’t know, thought you might be just making a pit stop.” She takes the bouquet first, taking the time to admire the assortment of flowers. “Thank you. These are beautiful.”

After getting it situated in an old jar from under the sink she takes the small gift bag. Setting it on the kitchen counter, she starts to pull things out.

“Is this …” she trails off as she studies the items on the counter.

“It’s the special knife spoon thing you talked about. The one that is designed to get all the peanut butter out the jar. And I got you another set of those small and long wooden spoons.”

She doesn't say anything for a moment and continues staring at his offerings.

While scratching the nape of his neck he says, “Sorry, it was hard to find an apology gift that is meaningful and yet wouldn’t make you mad because I spent a shitload of money on it. I’ll get you a proper gift soon but I didn’t have too much time because of, you know, the –“

“Harry,” she cuts him off firmly, “I love it, thank you. It means a lot, really.” Stepping forward, she wraps her arms around him, squeezing tightly, cheek pressed comfortably against his body.

His heart tightens in his chest. He’s missed this. He was afraid he might never experience this again.

“I’m sorry. Please forgive me. I feel like all I’ve done since coming back is apologise but I need you to forgive me one more time, please. I really am sorry. I didn’t mean anything I said. You know that, right? I … I was just irrationally jealous and hurt that I wanted to hurt you too. It’s fucked up, but it’s the truth. You’ll only get the truth from now on. I promise. Please believe me.”

How can she not believe him?

The extra precautions taken to keep her anonymity as much as possible while also making sure she could be as involved in his life as she wants. Years of texts, calls, and everything in between where they exposed their truest selves to each other without fear of judgement. Even the way he is holding her now, breath racing in and out, like he might break down if she doesn’t believe him.

“H, I believe you. The things you said … they were fucked. But I can’t stay mad at you, even if I tried.”

Shaking his head, he mumbles into her hair, “Thank you. Thank you. You’re too good for me. You shouldn’t make it so easy for a guy, you deserve grovelling. And I will, I’m not done making it up to you.”

They both hug each other tighter, gripping the fabric on each other’s backs.

“I don’t need grovelling; you’ve already done so much. Besides, you bought me my first bouquet of flowers in like four years and you got me presents that tell me you pay attention to me. I rambled to you about loving small spoons with long handles and how much I hate not being able to clean out the peanut butter jar ages ago, and somehow you were actually listening and remembered.”

“That wanker never got you flowers?”

She rolls her eyes. “No, too practical for that. And for small spoons too.” She coughs to clear her throat. “Also, you’re allowed to curse him you. You were right.”

“About what?” Harry asks.

She makes no effort to explain, simply shrugging her shoulders in faux nonchalance. There’s a brief silence once again, then, a chill shoots up his spine. He places his hands on her forearms and pushes her far back enough to be able to see her face.

“No. Fucking. Way.”

“Not now, please. Can we talk about it later? I missed you and I don’t want to think about him.”

Of course. He never wants to think about Richard more than necessary anyways.

“Okay, I don’t want him ruining our time together. I want to spend time with my best girls.”

Harry ended up staying the night.

He woke up with Charlie’s head tucked under his, and her knees curled into herself on his lap. Despite the kink in his neck and the knot between his shoulders, he can’t bring himself to separate from her. The heat emanating from her body warms him in a way that soothes him. Their bodies haven’t been this close in forever, not since they were children and had sleepovers in the backyard where they always somehow woke up curled into each other.

Growing up together meant going through that awkward stage of being afraid to get too touchy with each other, and by the time they moved past that, they had both started developing real crushes and entering relationships with other people. Harry thought they were pretty affectionate for platonic friends anyways, but the way they’re intertwined now makes him realise that they can be so much closer, so, so much closer.

Charlie’s face is right there. He can see every crevice, bump, and wrinkle on her skin. His eyes can’t help but trace every feature - round her eyes, down the slope of her nose, and across her lips. He can’t pull his eyes away from her lips. They sit together so perfectly, in the perfect pout, begging to be pinched, bitten, and kissed. Begging to be pinched, bitten, and kissed by him specifically.

He doesn’t notice his face inching towards hers until their noses brush, causing her to tense in his arms. Harry freezes, watching tentatively as her lips purse and eyes squeeze tightly together.

“Uhhmm?” she groans.

Harry slowly moves his hand up and down Charlie’s back hoping to ground her as she slowly wakes up.

“It’s me, darling. Harry.”

“Hmm? H?”

She’s so precious. Harry feels like his heart might burst from how hard it’s beating.

“I’m right here. Good morning.”

With a big huff, her eyes blink open. Her forehead is pinched with confusion as she takes in her surroundings. Slowly pulling her arm from under his body, she reaches up and places her hand on Harry’s face, patting his cheek a couple of times as if trying to make sure he's really there.

With a little chuckle, he covers her hand with his, holding it in place on his cheek. Tilting his head slightly, he presses a small kiss to her palm. “Darling, I’m here. I came over yesterday and we fell asleep on the couch. Remember?”

Satisfied with his explanation, Charlie lets her body go lax against his.

Harry can’t help but smile at the way she trusts him, even half asleep.

Despite being forgiven almost immediately, there’s still a sense of uneasiness that he cannot shake. All of that is in his head though because Charlie has done nothing to make him feel uncertain. The looks, touches, and words they shared yesterday can only be described as tender, both of them obviously still emotionally fragile.

Richard’s fuck up is still unknown to Harry. He doesn’t care though. Not right now anyways. He got to kiss Rory’s cheeks until she erupted into excited giggles and watch as her gorgeous eyes slowly fluttered shut as she fell asleep in his rocking arms. Then, a tired but smiley Charlie tucked herself against him as they watched tv and talked about life with their heads pressed together.

But the feel good atmosphere of yesterday has dissipated, both of them forced to return to reality under the morning sunlight.

A strong vibration bursts their bubble.

When Charlie tries to peel herself from Harry, his arm quickly circles her waist to keep her close to him as he leans to grab his phone on the coffee table.

“Hello?” his voice is gruff from sleep. “I know … I’ll be there on time. I said I’ll be there … yes I know what I’m doing. Okay, bye.”

Talk about returning to reality.

“You need to go,” she says, not asks.

He nods. “I uh, didn’t get in my car to London this morning so they’re just wondering where I am. I have a show there tonight.”

Right. Harry just kicked off his new tour and suddenly appeared at her door after the first show.

The air around them is still as the two friends try to make sense of all that’s happened.

“Of course, you’re an important man.”

“Not too important for you and Rory.”

“I know.”

“I’m sorry we didn’t get to talk, like properly, last night, but I promise I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

“I’m glad you came, H, and Rory was thrilled to see you. She missed you, a lot. I’ve played your album so much she recognises your voice.”

Harry’s eyes pretty much glaze over at the thought. “Thank you for letting be in her life”

Charlie shakes her head and grabs his hands that have started to tremble. “You don’t need to thank me. I can't imagine you not being in her life. We’re Harry and Charlie, so I'm stuck with you.”

“You’re too good to me,” he whispers, “And we’re Harry, Charlie, and Rory.”

He has to bite his bottom lip to stop himself from saying everything he wants to say. With the last bit of self-control left in his body, he rests his forehead against hers as they lock eyes.

Then, a loud buzzing emanates from the coffee table again. With a frustrated huff, his eyes shut.

“Hey,” she squeezes his hand, “your fans need you.”

They emerge from their little cocoon on the sofa in silence, moving wordlessly in sync as Harry pays Rory one last visit, then leaves for London after a tight hug from his best friend.

As Charlie shuts the door behind her, she can’t help but feel that her living room now feels a little empty. All that’s left is the weight of everything left unsaid between them lingering in the air.

Better Homes and Gardens Exclusive: Harry Styles Shares the Meaning Behind His New Album, 'Harry's House'

Pop music’s most sought after man has a new album coming out and the world is excited. This new release comes from a relatively quiet quarantine period from Styles. He was set to kick off his world tour for his last album, Fine Line, when travel and group restrictions worldwide were announced, and his world went quiet all of a sudden.

His new album showcases an unexpected domestic side to his glistening life. Themes of family, belonging, and domestic bliss shine through so evidently that I can’t help but wonder if all of this is hypothetical or anecdotal.

I bite the bullet and ask. Before I get an answer, he lets out a small laugh, as if he has been expecting it.

“It’s definitely not an autobiography but all the songs come from a very real place in my life. The best thing about writing from real life is that as time passes my relationship with these songs change. Even from when I wrote them up to now, some of these songs listen completely different.”

I ask if that is good or bad. “Depends”, he says after ruminating to himself, “it depends on whether there are any fresh wounds.” Right now, he confesses, some wounds are pretty fresh. “Some are hard to listen to and I’m a little nervous to sing them if I’m honest.”

His earnestness is hard to miss – it shines through in his eyes and his voice. Tucked away in our little corner of the coffeeshop, I can’t help but feel like my high school crush has somehow decided to confide in me and unveil what’s beneath the good looks and charm. I feel almost privileged to be the chosen one, entrusted with his sincerity and vulnerability.

There is nothing manmade or artificial about this man – at least not when it comes to his music. He speaks about each song with so much passion, excitement, and on a couple of occasions, uncertainty. That took me by surprise. He has learnt to let go of needing to be well liked by every listener, he tells me proudly, but the need to impress those he loves will forever be there. Whether that is a strength or a weakness he has yet to figure out.

“That need is almost stronger now. Sometimes songs become a kind of coded message for those who know what I’m singing about. And it’s scary, waiting for a reaction or some approval,” he confesses.

“I spent so much time at home this past year, but I felt like my actual home is someplace else, somewhere that I couldn’t be at that moment in time. Allowing myself to feel everything that I felt and reflect on why I’m feeling these things helped me make sense of all of that. Now I know where my home is, or at least I know where to go to find it.”

From the way he speaks I get the impression that he needs this album to be heard by some people. Not everyone, but a select few. Even though these songs weren’t necessarily written for me, I can’t help but feel excited to enter Harry’s House.

Charlie misses Harry. Like really misses Harry. Getting that little taste of him unlocked the door of longing deep within her and now it won’t shut. Like when you skip lunch then eat a cracker a couple hours later, unleashing a wave of insatiable hunger that can only be made quiet by eating until you cannot breathe anymore.

Basically, she needs so much of Harry until she cannot breathe. Until all she can think about is him.

Something changed. The moment she shut the door behind him that fateful morning, it was like a switch flipped and all she could do from then on is think about him. She’s missed him before, of course, but she’s never quite like this.

She can’t remember if anyone has ever looked at her so tenderly before. Harry’s definitely the most attentive man she’s ever met. Maybe it’s because she has the shitshow of a conversation with Richard to compare it to, but Harry said sorry, and for some reason that was more than enough for her.

Is she an idiot for choosing to believe a man’s words after just being lied to by another? Perhaps. Unfortunately, there is nothing she can do about it. Everything in her wants Harry.

The only contact she’s had with him since he left is a couple of texts. They’ve been casual, nothing too serious – he likes to have serious conversations in person – but enough to let her know that he’s still thinking about her.

“What do you think Rory? You’re a smart girl, right? You latched onto Harry but didn’t really want to play along with Richard, so what gave it away huh? Why didn’t you tell your mummy?”

The dangerous thing about getting too attached to Harry – that is, getting attached in a non-platonic way or in a father-figure to Rory kind of way – is that she’ll grow too dependent on him for assurance. Hearing him tell her that she is a good mother affected her more than she would like to admit. His words already hold too much weight, it would not be smart to give him more authority.

If the Richard catastrophe had to have a silver lining, it made Charlie realise that she needs to get her shit together and live up to the whole ‘strong, independent woman’ thing. She went from being satisfied in her own little world where all that mattered was her and her daughter, to feeling like Rory needed Richard’s love to be complete, as if her as a mother was not enough.

So, as much as her heart hates that Harry’s not here, her brain knows it’s for the best. She hasn’t had a moment like this in a while. Just her and her daughter having a quiet moment together. Sometimes she thinks it’s weird that she's a grown adult with a very adult job with very adult responsibilities, but she speaks to her year old daughter as if she’s a colleague, full sentences and everything.

“You like Harry, huh. What’d you think you’ll call him when you can speak? Uncle Harry? Or just Harry maybe. If you come up with some sort of cute nickname for him, he’ll love it.”

Rory looks up at her with a toy truck in her mouth, drool basically dripping off the toy.

Reaching for a tissue, Charlie sighs with amusement. “You’re just an angel aren’t you.”

It’s about two months later that Charlie and Harry reunite in person. He carved out a free couple of weeks and invited Charlie and Rory down to his flat in London for a ‘sleepover’, as he so put it.

Everything is sorted out for the both of you to stay over. The cot I ordered for Rory has already arrived so you can’t say no. xx

He greets them in the underground carpark. Charlie first sees him when the car he chartered pulls up in front of the lift lobby. With hands clasped behind his back, he has his eyes glued to the entrance, a smile breaking out on his face when he spots them.

After opening the door for them, his hands reconvene behind his back. She can tell they are tightly clenched from the way his forearms flex.

“Hi,” he says, voice a little tentative. He still doesn’t make a move to touch her.

“Hi,” she replies.

She can tell Harry is itching to do something - hug her or kiss her on the cheek - literally anything. His self-restraint is impressive, but she decides to put him out of his misery.

“Can you help bring Rory up please? I’ve got my hands full with the bags.”

He’s nodding instantly. The moment Charlie moves away from the door he’s swooping in to unbuckle the little girl gleefully.

“Hi my little monkey. C’mere.” His voice is soft and intimate.

Harry carries Rory on his front in the baby byon on the lift ride up. Charlie can’t pull her eyes away from their reflection in the mirror the entire time, and Harry can’t pull his eyes from Rory, who is taking in the new surroundings with curious eyes, swinging her chubby little legs back and forth.

Charlie wants to tattoo this image onto the inside of her brain.

It’s almost frightening how easily they slip back into their domestic routine. Apart from the slight tentativeness in their actions, they move around the space with complete familiarity. Before he puts Rory down, he makes sure to look at Charlie for approval first, and when she starts exploring his living room on wobbly steps, he makes sure to trail behind her, ready to grab her if she tries to walk into furniture.

He’s not sure if it’s all in his head, but Rory seems to have become a toddler in his short absence, which makes his heart ache a little. His desire to be there to witness Rory growing up probably crosses some sort of line, especially since Charlie made it clear that he is not a part of their family, however, out of all the inappropriate thoughts he has about Charlie, this one about watching Rory grow up is definitely the tamest.

“She’s basically a teenager now,” he jokes, successfully eliciting a giggle from Charlie.

With a prideful smile, she says, “She’s definitely a smart girl. There’s a song of yours she can recognise. When it plays it public she’ll give me a cheeky look and do a little dance.”

Harry’s head whips around to face her. “Really?”

She nods.

“What song? Do you have a video?”

Her face falters a little. “I don’t have any videos, sorry. It was mainly when we … you know.”

“Oh, right. It’s a new one then.” She nods again. “Thank you for letting me still be part of her life, even though we were –“

“- yeah.” They standing silence watching the exploring baby. “Like I said, I can’t hate you. And I would never make my daughter hate you too.”

He coughs to clear his throat. “What if … what if I want more?”

“More? Well, you’re her godfather, her only godfather, that hasn’t changed. And now that she … now that the father figure role is vacant again, you have her all to yourself.”

“Actually, I meant … um,” he scratches the back of his head, diverting his eyes. He chickens out. “Um, will you tell me about what happened with Richard?”

Charlie lets out a huff and rolls her eyes. She recounts what happened as briefly as possible, distilling Richard’s big villain monologue to only the salient bits, for her sake more than Richard’s.

“Huh,” he pinches his bottom lip, “wanker.”

“Yeah,” she replies, surprised that he doesn’t say more.

“I’m sorry though.”

“Why are you sorry? Richard’s shitty behaviour has nothing to do with you.”

Is this the right time to tell her that Richard’s ego competition with him was not just all in his head? That whenever Richard’s around Harry makes sure to be a bit more attentive and a bit more of a gentleman? That he gets all smug inside when Charlie’s friends tell him what a good boyfriend he’d be? And that he definitely makes sure to shoot Richard a small smirk whenever their eyes meet at parties?

Probably not.

In his defence, Harry owns up to his petty jealousy.

“Because he wouldn’t have come back to mess with you if those photos never got posted. And being slightly less of a dick than him doesn’t say much. The both of you mean so much to me, I panicked and got insecure, so I lashed out and said those fucked up things.”

“Insecure? Because of Richard?”

His nose scrunches, embarrassed. “He was never my biggest fan, and I just knew that once he got the chance, he would find a way to keep Rory away from me, keep you away from me. That’s like my worst nightmare. And being the main man in Rory’s life, Richard doesn’t deserve that. It’s entitled, selfish, and very wrong, but I can’t help it.”

Charlie goes silent at his little confession. “You’d only spent like, two weeks with Rory. I didn’t realise you’d care so much so quickly.”

“I fell in love with her the moment I heard about her. I felt betrayed and angry, but also enamoured, instantly. I didn’t even need to see her. I missed her before I met her.”

To say that Charlie loves Harry would not only be an understatement, but a mistranslation of something so intense and all consuming. Where had this man come from and why hadn’t she noticed sooner.

“Harry, I –“

“- even if I never got to see her again, I would still think about her, all the time. Just like how I’m always thinking about you.”

Their eyes lock in an intense stare, neither knowing what to do next.

Blinking away some rogue tears, Charlie closes her mouth that involuntarily fell slightly agape and crosses the short distance to make her way to Harry. With trembling hands, she interlaces her fingers with his and squeezes.

“I’m afraid that if I say everything I want to tell you, you’ll get scared and run away.” His voice is hushed. If they weren’t standing so close, she would not have heard him.

“I want to hear them.”

“Okay,” he replies. He’s smiling shyly now.

They both linger in the silence as if instinctively knowing that the rest of this conversation has to happen later. That neither of them are brave enough to have this conversation yet.

That night, he brings his girls out for ramen at his favourite spot. They sit facing each other in a booth at the back of the restaurant with Rory at the head of the table in a baby chair. He asks for the baby chair and a set of smaller utensils without any prompting, in fact, Charlie didn't get the chance to bring it up. He gets his favourite tonkatsu ramen and she gets the shio. When the two steaming bowls get placed in front of them, he reaches for Rory’s bowl, again unprompted, and puts in a couple strands of ramen and some soup, making sure to cut up the noodles with a fork and blow on it until it seems cool enough. In between bites of his own food, he checks to make sure Rory is eating her dinner okay, peeking into her little plastic bowl to make sure she’s not running low on food, as if he’s done this a thousand times before.

Conversation at the table is minimal. Apart from some comments about the food and the restaurant, the main thing that can be heard from their table is baby babble and slurping.

Charlie likes it this way, she thinks, being able to soak in this moment without any urgency to clear the air or lay everything out on the table. Her heart's aflutter the entire time. To anyone in the restaurant, they just look like a regular family having dinner together and this normalcy is quite frankly making her freak out inside.

Dinner ends relatively early – they need to get back in time for bedtime. The guest bedroom now has a cot in it, the exact one Charlie has back home. He’s a little nervous when Charlie starts examining the stuff he bought. He’s not nervous that he bought the wrong stuff, he’s nervous that she’ll think it’s strange that he knew exactly what to get, that he memorised Rory’s bedtime routine all the way down to the temperature of the room.

She doesn’t comment on anything, of course, she just looks at him with stars in her eyes.

This trip to London is supposed to be a holiday for Charlie, or at least that is what Harry intended. Fine, a city she’s been to dozens of times is not much of a holiday, but Rory has never been out of Manchester, and he stays in a luxury apartment complex complete with a pool and spa.

In his head, he would kiss Charlie goodbye (just on the forehead for now) and head to rehearsals with Rory on his hip, giving her the whole day to enjoy some time to herself. In reality, the uncertainty when he proposes his idea might as well have been written across her face.

“That sounds nice H, but … this is her first time away from home and I don’t really feel okay with not having here with me.” Charlie’s voice suddenly gets louder when she realises what she is implying. “Not to say that I don’t trust you or anything, you’re her godfather of course, but it’s been –“

“Hey, I get it. Don’t worry about it, I’m not offended. I just want you to have some actual time off. You’ve been through quite a lot these past months.”

“I appreciate it, I really do. No one’s quite as thoughtful as you, H.”

Harry turns away to put away their dishes from dinner in the sink, making sure to tuck his face into his chest as best he can to try and to hide the flush blooming on his cheek.

“Well, I’ve got rehearsals tomorrow but my whole evening is free and there’s a Korean restaurant that’s really good. Let me take you, yeah.”

With her back still turned to him, she teases, “Are you asking me out, Styles?”

“Um, we eat together all the time and I would never –“

“Oh, you would never,” she interrupts in mock offence, “I got the picture.”

“That’s not what I meant. The whole Richard thing was so recent I would never try to do anything.”

“H,” she turns to put her hands on his now tense shoulders, “I was just teasing. Korean sounds good. Thanks, H.”

“I’m happy to,” he says, tilting his head back to bump Charlie’s head.

And he means it.

“Hi,” Charlie calls out as she knocks on the door, “sorry we’re early but one of us got a little grumpy. Hope we’re not interrupting.”

Every head in the soundproof room whips around at the new voice. But the person she came in looking for was not one of them.

“Charlie!” Sarah exclaims excitedly, “Hey, not at all we’re almost done. Come in. We haven’t seen you in forever.”

At the mention of her name, everyone else’s face seems to light up with recognition, all joining in with an enthusiastic greeting.

Rory, who was hiding her pouty little face in her mother’s neck, now perks up a tiny bit at the attention.

“And who is this adorable little girl,” Sarah coos, waving a few fingers to try and catch Rory’s attention.

“This is Rory. She might be a little shy because she’s never been around so many people like this before. You wanna say ‘hi’, lovie.” She angles her daughter on her hip to better face Harry’s band and crew.

Despite being in a bad mood the whole day, she refused to take a nap even though she was very patiently rocked for about an hour, Rory is now smiling cheekily, showing off her growing teeth to everyone.

“Can you say ‘hi’?” Charlie prompts again.

Rory drops her head abruptly onto her mother’s cheek. Then, she lets out a noise that vaguely sounds like she’s saying ‘hi’. As if on cue, everyone melts into a puddle of ‘awws’.

“Don’t be fooled she’s not normally this shy. She loves the attention, a little performer.”

With a small smile, Mitch says, “She’s adorable. I see why Harry doesn’t shut up about her. She’s probably his little protégé huh. Maybe our kids can have a little playdate sometime, they’re around the same age.”

“Oh,” Charlie’s caught a little off guard by his revelation, “sure, that sounds nice. She doesn’t get the chance to play with other children too often, I’m worried she won’t learn how to share with how much attention she gets at home.”

“I bet, especially with how much Harry spoils her, huh.”

She can’t stop her cheeks from heating up.

Before she can fruitlessly deny being the object of Harry’s attention, a familiar voice is heard from behind them. “Hey, what’s going on? What are y’all – oh, you guys are early.”

Charlie spins around. “Hi, I hope it’s okay. We didn’t mean to distract everyone.”

“It’s no problem! Monkey is too adorable, how can they not be distracted.” As Harry beelines towards them, his band instinctively makes room for him. “Hi love. Hi monkey.” He gives both Charlie and Rory a kiss on the cheek which causes the little girl to turn her head to look at him. After a couple seconds, her eyes light up with recognition.

Out of the corner of her eye, Charlie sees the band exchange knowing glances.

No longer wanting to be the centre of attention, she insists that everyone get back to work, making her way to the sofa in the corner before anyone can object. (The only person who objects is Rory who tries to make silly faces at her audience for as long as she can.)

“Let’s finish rehearsing so that we can end on time. We don’t want monkey to get too hungry,” Harry instructs.

On the sofa, Charlie sits Rory down next to her. She digs in her handbag for the toys that she always carries with her to hopefully keep her daughter from interrupting the rehearsal. Before she can hand the car to Rory, a larger hand extends into her line of vision with a small pair of green headphones.

“Here, these are for monkey. They should fit her, I double checked to make sure they ordered the right size. I told the band to try and keep it a little quieter, we’ve only got a couple songs left, but just in case maybe she should wear it.”

“You got baby headphones for Rory?”

“Yeah, I want her to come see a show eventually, especially since you said she can recognise my voice, so I went ahead and got these.” The headphones exchange hands and his go behind his back immediately. “I’m not trying to pressure you by the way I was just …”

“H, you don’t need to walk around eggshells around me, or assume that I doubt your intentions.” She quickly scans the room. Satisfied that the other in the room are occupied, she assures softly, “I know you’re not Richard.”

The relief that takes over his body is hard to miss. “I just want to take care of her, and you. The last time I tried to do that I went too far. I don’t want to make that mistake again.”

It’s a surprise that Charlie can see anything because she’s sure she has hearts for eyes. Slow down, don’t get carried away. The reminder doesn’t work, none of the remaining rehearsal registers in her mind, the only time she manages to break out of her reverie is when her daughter starts squirming next to her and trying to take the headphones off. She somehow managed to understand that the music has stopped, so she’s allowed to take them off.

While she’s putting everything back into her purse, Harry thanks everyone for a good rehearsal and sends everyone off with applause. Rory, who has now crawled off the couch, joins in with the excitement by clapping her tiny hands together. Despite producing a negligible amount of noise, Harry manages to see her in his periphery.

“That’s right monkey. Say ‘yay’,” he says while slowly crouching down to meet her eyes. “Say ‘yay’, monkey.”

“Yay!” Rory chimes back.

Harry looks up to meet Charlie’s eyes as if wanting confirmation that that actually happened.

With a downward smile and raised eyebrows, she shoots him a tiny head nod as silent acknowledgement.

When they finally leave for dinner, Harry has Rory in one hand and Charlie’s purse hanging off the other, leaving Charlie to wave goodbye to everyone with a shy smile knowing exactly what this scene looks like.

Tonight doesn’t feel like any of the previous nights.

For a start, Rory isn’t within arms reach of Charlie. And instead of wearing one of the many sensible outfits she brought with her she’s somehow in a dress worth more than her monthly pay.

Harry’s label is throwing a release party tonight, something he conveniently forgot to mention when convincing her to come down to London. An hour into the night, Charlie finds herself sipping on her second glass of champagne and people watching from the sofa at the edge of the room. The dim lights and loud music make her feel safe, like a protective blanket offering some level of anonymity. Not that the party is particularly unsafe. She’s been to enough of Harry’s work events to not feel completely like a fish out of water – smile politely when he introduces her, nurse a glass of whatever to give her hands something to do, and cling to Harry until all the attention becomes too overwhelming. She’s on step three right now, hence the sitting.

Her palm is damp from the condensation from her glass, the champagne now edging on the side of too warm, but she’s too tired to be bothered, her vision having settled on a comfortable level of blurry.

“Long night?” a voice interrupts.

Her head snaps up to see an unfamiliar man looking down at her with a confident smile.

“Uh, yeah.”

The man moves to sit next to her, forcing her to angle her body to face him.

“I don’t think I’ve had the pleasure of meeting you. I’m Wes.”

She plasters on her polite grin once again and covertly takes a deep breath. “Hi, I’m Charlie. Nice to meet you,” she introduces as she shakes his hand.

“So, why are you sitting all alone with a half drunk glass of bubbly? The night is still young.”

“The night might be but I’m not,” she plays along.

The volume of Wes’ laugh is disproportionate to how funny her joke is.

“Do you want a little pick me up? I’d love if I could have one dance with you.”

Her brows raise when her brain catches on to what is happening. “I don’t know if I have any more dancing left in me,” she says as if she has done any dancing tonight at all.

“That’s fair. Talking’s fine with me too.”

“Oh, you don’t have to sit here with me, I’m fine by myself. Go have fun, find someone else to dance with. The night’s still young after all.”

“Well, you happen to be the most interesting person in the room right now, so I don’t mind sitting here with you.”

Wes’ voice is buttery smooth and his confidence is alluring. Normally her face would flush under all the attention of a self-assured man, however she isn’t feeling it tonight.

“Oh, I don’t know about that. Actually, I –“

“There you are. I’ve been looking all over for you. Hey, you’re Waz right?”

“Wes, but yeah. Hey Harry, congratulations.”

“Sorry to interrupt, I need to borrow Charlie.”

Without giving Wes room to dispute, Harry tugs Charlie to her feet by the bicep, ditches her champagne flute after shooting the rest of the alcohol, and leads her to the baby room where Rory and Sarah’s baby is being cared for by a babysitter.

When the door shuts behind her, she asks, “You needed me?”

“Hmm?” Harry hums absentmindedly as he peeks into Rory’s stroller.

“You said you needed me?” she tries again.

“Right. I was bored and wanted your company.” He punctuates his words with a dismissive shrug.

“Harry!”

“What? I missed you.”

“Is that all? Really?”

He shrugs again. She rolls her eyes, yet she can’t stop smiling.

They sit on the floor, shoulder to shoulder, backs pressed against the wall in the silent room. Their only companions are the two babies who are sound asleep, and the babysitter who is sitting on a chair in the corner, trying her hardest to seem preoccupied with her phone.

There could be a hundred other people squeezed into this tiny room, but Charlie would still feel like they are the only two people present. Harry just has that effect on her. His talent for making her feel seen and wanted is astounding.

Sitting facing a plain white wall, Harry starts talking about anything and everything. In the middle of his extensive review of all the dessert options at the refreshments table, her hand finds his and interlocks their fingers tightly. She slouches down to rest her head on his bicep. He reciprocates without missing a beat, cheek resting on the top of her head. She can feel his every breath and she’s sure he can feel the same.

She doesn’t notice that her eyes have closed until a loud buzz emits from Harry’s pocket. He doesn’t move to address it, so she lets herself get comfortable again, only to be interrupted again by a stream of vibrations.

“H, your phone.”

“Sorry,” he mutters. His hand enters and exits his pocket quickly then reaches over to encourage her head to lay on his shoulder again.

“Go check it, it may be important.”

He shakes his head. “Nah.”

They return to their conversation with Harry rambling and Charlie humming in affirmation or disagreement. As her eyes flutter shut again, comforted by the low rumbling of his voice, she focuses on his thumb that is now drawing little circles on her palm to stay awake. It doesn’t work very well because she does fall asleep and is only woken up by harsh whispers.

“… this was done for you, so it would be nice if you could be present at your own party. Everyone has been coming up to me to ask about you. And why aren’t you reading my texts?”

“I am present. I’ve said ‘hi’ to everyone, thanked all the important people, and posed for all the photos.”

“But you’re now hiding here. Doing none of those things.”

“Shh, Charlie is asleep, and so are the babies. Don’t raise your voice.”

“Why are you in here playing babysitter when you are supposed to be mingling and making connections?”

“I’m Harry Styles. That trumps whatever connections I could make.”

Then, there’s a loud smacking sound. Her eyes are still shut but any idiot could guess that the Jeff just smacked his forehead in exasperation. She would too if Harry said something so stupid to her.

“At least say goodbye and thank everyone before you leave, okay? Can you do that one thing.”

“Yes dad.”

Charlie gives up her ruse when she hears the door shut. Peeking out of one eye, she whispers, “Is Jeff gone?”

“You cheeky fucker.” Harry cups her jaw and squishes her cheeks together. “You didn’t think to help me out? You just let me get scolded by Jeff?”

She sits up slowly while rubbing her eyes. “Please, you weren’t getting scolded. I’m Harry Styles. That trumps whatever connections I could make. Pfft.”

As she tries to stand, tattooed arms curl around her waist, trapping her to his side. “I don’t appreciate you making fun of me when I got us out of trouble.”

She squirms in his arms and tries to wriggle free with no success. The more she moves the tighter his arms get.

“Us? I am not the man of the hour. This party is not for me rockstar.”

He cups the back of her head with a hand to press her full body against him basically tucking her into his side. “Well unfortunately for you I’m not leaving your side for the rest of the night. So, if I have to go out and mingle, so do you.”

“You little bitch. You begged me to come here with you.”

“I’m a little bitch?” he whisper-shouts in mock offence.

They start play wrestling in their little corner of the room, completely forgetting that there is a stranger in there with them. Their exchange of tickles and pinches causes them to topple over so that they’re now lying on the ground, Charlie’s body pressing into Harry’s with his arms still circling her waist. When they eventually tire themselves out, they remain stacked on top of each other trying to catch their breath.

He starts playing with the ends of her hair, twirling strands around his fingers then releasing it, only to start twirling it again. Lying with the woman who occupies all of his heart, mucking about on the dirty floor, Harry doesn’t think he has felt this content in a long time.

“Thank you for being here with me, it wouldn’t feel right if we didn’t speak throughout this release.”

“Well, I had to be here, for continuity’s sake, I’ve been there since your shitty X Factor audition.” Charlie clears her throat dramatically, then starts to croon, “Isn’t she lovely, isn’t she –“

“Hey fuck you,” Harry says between giggles and starts to tickle her again.

The door suddenly whips open, Jeff’s stern expression in the doorway.

“Good, nap time is over. Now, go mingle with the guests, please.”

Like reluctant children, Charlie and Harry detangle themselves and straighten their clothes, then dart out the door without making eye contact with Jeff. The moment they are out of Jeff’s eyeline, Harry grabs her hand and tugs her towards him, then shoots her a mischievous grin, like a kid with a secret. His energy is infectious, so, she returns the smile and glues herself to his side gleefully, tucking the moment they shared into a safe space in her brain.

It’s well past three in the morning by the time they’re stumbling out of the car, shushing each other repeatedly to avoid waking Rory up. Neither of them are drunk, that would be irresponsible because Rory is with them, but they are certainly not sober either. Harry has Rory’s car seat hooked on his elbow and he digs into his pocket to produce the house keys for Charlie. They ditch their shoes by the door before heading off to get ready for bed. Harry beelines toward the guest room to get Rory settled and Charlie starts doing the nightly check around the house.

Charlie is applying moisturiser when she hears gentle knocks on the door.

Harry stands behind the door in his boxers.

“Miss me already?” she teases.

He nods. Without thinking, she pinches his bottom lip that is jutting out in a pout. “Can we have a sleepover?”

She lets out a small giggle. "Okay."

He peeks into Rory’s crib before crawling into bed. The length of the day is evident in his face and yet, she can’t help but think he looks adorable with nothing but his head peeking out from under the duvet.

When they started secondary school, they had mutually agreed that they were now too old to have sleepovers. Their usual ‘boy-girl’ activities had to be minimised because they didn’t ‘like each other like that’. Despite being supportive of this decision, Harry remembers how much lonelier his life had become once they stopped spending as much time with each other. He missed getting hello and goodbye hugs, and the way they would lean against each other whenever they would watch tv. The next time they exchanged more than a brief side hug was before his audition. Charlie had grabbed his shaking hands, gave them a firm squeeze, then wrapped him in a hug so tight that he felt his breath catch. His eyes had shut on instinct from the suddenness of everything and the sudden rush of heat that zipped up his body when he felt her body press against his.

Now that Harry has acknowledged that what he feels towards Charlie goes beyond the usual ‘boy-girl’ friendship, he wants to be close to her all the time. He flips onto his belly and rests an arm over her stomach. When that faces no resistance, he curls his fingers around her waist and wiggles closer until he can feel her body heat.

“You mean so much to me,” he mumbles into the pillow, “I need to tell you how much I love you.”

Her body goes rigid under his arm. Neither of them move, their breaths audible in the silence.

“You mean a lot to me too, H,” she whispers.

He sighs.

“Sleep,” he orders, “but stay close to me.”

“Okay, I’m right here.”

Harry wakes when a cold breeze creeps its way under the duvet. Just as he reaches for the edge of the duvet, his arm is mysteriously enrobed in warmth again. It takes a second for the action to register and when it does, he forces his eyes open. With half-shut eyes, he takes in the bed he’s on – familiar but not his own.

Charlie.

He’s still on his stomach, arm stretched out over where his companion was. The rustling from the duvet as he moves to sit up against the headboard alerts the room that he’s awake. As he rubs the sleep from his eyes, he spots Charlie who is standing by the crib holding Rory.

He smiles softly at the sight. “Hi.”

“Hi,” she returns his smile. “You can go back to sleep. Rory was just a little fussy in her crib.”

“Bring her here.”

She hesitates for a moment, then makes her way back to the bed. Once Rory is placed on the soft surface, she immediately tries to walk to the middle of the bed, but the plush duvet is too much for her little limbs and she ends up plopping onto her belly with a shocked expression.

Harry giggles at the sweet girl then reaches forward to pick her up by her underarms. “C’mere,” he whispers, then kisses her chubby cheek. “Good morning, monkey.”

“She’ll start whining for breakfast soon. I can take her to the living room if you want to sleep some more.”

He shakes his head with a pout. “I wanna snuggle until breakfast.”

Rory settles against Harry’s bare chest, gnawing on her fist and slobbering all over, completely unbothered by the fact that she’s skin-to-skin with a man for the first time. Charlie joins them under the covers, eyes never leaving her daughter, trying to take in the scene before her. The thought of lying in bed with her daughter and a man she loves had never crossed her mind. Not even before Richard left the first time. Her heart feels like it might beat out of her chest. Like there’s not enough space in her chest to accommodate the amount of love she feels in heart. Even though she woke up with her mind swirling from what Harry said to her before they fell asleep, right now, she can’t think of anything other than how nice this feels.

She leaves about an inch between herself and Harry which is obviously not close enough for him because he wiggles closer to her and rest his head on her shoulder. With the hand not resting on Rory’s back, Harry pats around until he finds hers and intertwines their fingers again.

Unable to help herself, Charlie comments, “You’ve been touchy recently.”

After a quiet minute, Harry asks, “Is that okay?”

“It’s okay,” she replies without thinking twice.

“Can I tell you how much I love you now?”

“Okay,” her whisper is weak.

He takes a deep breath.

“I love you. And I know I love you because no one has made me feel the way you do. I’ve only just accepted that it’s different with you. No one makes me as happy, no one makes me as mad, no one makes me as jealous – I just, I could not function when we weren’t speaking, I’d never felt scared like that before, and I never want to feel like that ever again, I never want to have to worry about never getting to be with you. And you love me too, you have to.”

“Harry.” Harry’s neck aches under the strain of looking up at her. His watches her throat work as she swallows, anxious for her to say more. When she does, it comes in a small whisper, “I love you.”

She doesn’t have to force it past a knot or squeeze it out of her throat. It simply floats out of her, like a sigh of relief.

“Yeah?” Harry’s voice is shaky.

“Yeah.” Charlie’s voice is certain.

Tilting her head down to meet his eyes, she just stares at him with a stupid, toothy grin. Her best friend. Her lover.

They don’t get to say anything more because Rory knows how to pick her moments and she picks this one. She demands breakfast by wiping her slobbery hand on Harry’s chest, looking up at him expectantly.

By now they’ve spent many mornings like this – Rory sitting in her high chair while the adults move around the kitchen preparing breakfast together – and yet it’s somehow more special today. For a start, Harry and Charlie both wear small smiles the whole time, and whenever they bump into each other or cross paths their eyes dart away shyly, as if they didn’t declare their love to each other a minute ago.

Breakfast is apple cinnamon oatmeal topped with Charlie’s favourite peanut butter (that mysteriously appeared in Harry’s kitchen a couple days ago), with a side of coffee and shy glances over the top of coffee mugs.

He is the first to break the silence. “What are ya thinking about?”

“You.”

“Oh yeah,” he’s smirking now, “what about me?”

Charlie averts her gaze and shrugs coyly.

“Can I tell you what I’m thinking about?” She nods. “I’m thinking about you in that dress from last night. When I saw you in it, my first thought was: I should’ve wanked in the shower.”

“Harry!” she scolds, “My daughter is right here.”

“She doesn’t know what I’m saying.”

“Is this what being in a relationship with you is like? You being incredibly inappropriate?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know.”

She groans and rolls her eyes, getting up to put the dishes in the sink.

Behind her, Harry calls out in a tone that’s only half joking, “For real though, would you like to know?”

She stays silent just to get on his nerves. It doesn’t take long for him to get out of his chair. An arm wraps around her as his body presses up against her.

He drops his voice and whispers in her ear, “Please say you would like to know.”

“I would like to know,” she admits finally. She drops her head back to rest on his shoulder and presses a kiss to the bottom of his jaw.

His face almost immediately turns scarlet. He can’t wait to get used to this.

They next have time alone when Rory has her afternoon nap. The magic of their initial declarations of love fades a little as they sit facing each other with cups of tea on the sofa. Charlie wants to wait for Harry to break the silence, but she knows he’s taking cues from her. She knows he’s careful to not push things too fast after already taking the first step this morning.

With a deep breath, she lays all her cards on the table.

She tells him that despite how assured she is of their feelings for each other, she can’t help but feel hesitant jumping into a new relationship right now. That even though she knows that he loves Rory wholeheartedly, if they were to start dating, he would need to take a step back from Rory’s life because she can’t risk her daughter getting attached to him, only for him to disappear if things go wrong between them. That she doesn’t know if she can handle having a ‘boyfriend’ rather than a ‘partner’, because she’s not looking for someone to mess around with but someone to share half her life with.

He tells her that it’s going to be a lot harder to keep their lives to themselves once everyone notices that they’re spending more time with each other, but he’ll do his best to keep them safe. That he’s willing to go as slow as she needs because he has been waiting for years already, so he can handle waiting some more. That he understands her fears and is willing to take a step back with Rory because he’s confident that she’s it for him. That he’ll bear half her burdens if she’ll bear half of his.

“You don’t have to be Rory’s dad, by the way. Being with me will be hard enough with you living away, I don’t expect you to take on that emotional burden too.”

“Hey,” Harry pinches her chin gently to tip her head up to look at him, “I know what I’m signing up for. I want to take care and provide for Rory in whatever capacity you’ll let me. She doesn’t need to call me dad, or daddy, or anything – she can decide what who I am to her when she’s old enough – but please let me be there for her, and you. The only part of my heart that is not occupied by you is occupied by her.”

“I love you.”

“Say it again, please.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too. Can I kiss you now, I’ve been waiting all day?”

She barely completes her nod before Harry’s lips are on hers. His hands cup the sides of her face and their foreheads press together with eagerness. There is no hesitation. Every move intentional.

The kiss is not innocent, but needy.

Charlie runs her hands through his hair then tugs on the hair at the top of his neck to cause him to draw back.

“Wha?” he mumbles.

“I needed to see your face to make sure this is real.”

Harry’s brows furrow as if he’s in pain. “I can’t believe it’s you. I’m so happy it’s you.”

She seals their mouths together again, tilting her head just right to get more of him. Needing to anchor herself, her hands move to his shoulders, clutching on to him as if she’s scared he’ll just disappear.

They kiss, and kiss, and kiss. They kiss until they run out of breath, then dive right back in after a few hurried puffs of air. It’s simultaneously too much and not enough.

Harry has to physically peel himself off of Charlie to get himself to stop. Not that he particularly wanted to stop, he was just getting a little too lightheaded. Both from the giddiness of finally getting to taste her and forgetting to breathe out of excitement. He looks drunk with his slow movements and half-lidded eyes. He feels a little high if he’s being honest.

Not wanting to be too far from her, he rests his forehead on her shoulder and starts giggling to himself.

He can’t believe his luck.

Harry’s been crawling into the guest bed every night since. Sleeping in the same bed is not exactly ‘taking it slow’ but when he couldn’t sleep alone anymore after experiencing what it’s like waking up with Charlie, especially when she’s just across the hall.

Lots of good chats have happened in this bed. They’ve discussed how their long distance relationship is going to look like, when they would tell Anne about their new relationship, and whether she’ll be less reluctant to receive his gifts now that they are more than friends.

It’s my love language. The more things you let me buy you, the more I know you love me. She rolled her eyes so hard.

“Are you ever going to tell me which songs on the album are about me?” she asks when they’re curled into each other one night.

“Lots of my songs are about you, or could be about you, but guess.”

“Matilda?”

“Mmhm,” he affirms. “There’s another.”

She hesitates a little. “Boyfriends?” she asks softly.

“No,” he replies immediately, “if I were to write a song about Richard it would be so blatant and damning that he would be embarrassed to show his face in public again.”

“That’s a little dramatic even for you, rockstar.” After giving it another think, she admits defeat. “I don’t know the other. Tell me.”

“It’s Satellite.”

“Really? I like that one.”

“Yeah.” His voice grows soft. “I actually wrote it long ago, just never felt right on the other albums, but I um … I revisited it after that night. After meeting Rory for the first time.”

“Oh.”

“Turns out I’ve wanted to be with you for years. Knowing that you had a child with Richard made me so envious – he got to be a part of your life in a way that I thought I’d never get a chance to. I didn’t wanna just be in your orbit anymore, I wanna be with you.”

“You’re with me now. You’re here.”

“Yeah, I am.”

“I know Keep Driving is definitely not about me and frankly, I’m glad. You need to keep that shit to yourself from now on.”

“So … you don’t want me singing about how satisfied I make you?” he asks in jest.

“If you plan on making me listen to you sing about us having sex next to your mum and sister, we will never have sex .” When he starts to chuckle, she threatens again, “I’m being serious. I’ve gone over a year without having sex, and I can go longer.”

“That’s because you were having sex with small dick Richard. When I get to love on you the way I want to, you’ll want to let everyone know how good I make you feel.”

“You’re talking big game Mr. Watermelon Sugar.”

Harry pinches her chin to tip her head up. With his lips about an inch from hers, his says in a low voice, “And I plan on delivering.”

He seals his promise by slotting their lips together for what feels like the thousandth time that evening.

After Charlie falls asleep in his arms, Harry forces his eyes to stay open so that he can maximise his time with his best girls. When he can’t fight sleep any longer, his mutters one last ‘I love you’ and drifts off knowing that he’ll get to spend time with his favourite family again the next morning.

“Good evening Manchester!” Harry shouts into the microphone. The roar of the crowd widens the grin on his face. “Thank you for choosing to spend your evening with us. I promise that this is going to be a very, very special show.”

He slowly makes his way onto the runway.

“I always love playing shows here because this is basically a hometown show for me. And I don’t know if you guys feel it, but I feel like there is something in the air tonight. Something quite magical.”

The crowd erupts once again.

It’s probably not good practice to talk up one venue too much, that’s why most artists have a pretty standard spiel for every night, but he can’t help himself tonight. Even if he didn’t say it, everyone in the stadium could probably feel it. There is more pep in his step and the adrenaline rushing through his veins has never been this aggressive.

“Manchester, I have a special request for all of you.” He puts a finger to his lips as if he is a shushing the audience. “There are some important audience members amongst you today. So, I need all of you to go extra crazy and have an extra good time, because I’ve got some people to impress. Can you do that for me?

“This next song is for my best friend.”

Harry gets swallowed by screams as the intro to Late Night Talking starts to play.

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hstourupdates harry on stage in manchester tonight during late night talking

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harryfan1 wait who did he say that to?

harryfan2 i think he was talking to anne and gemma because he did that in their direction

↳ stylesontour there was another woman with a baby standing with them

↳ directioner1 it was his best friend charlie with them and harry was photographed with her daughter a while ago

↳ stylesfan1 wait what if he was pointing to charlie's baby because he kept looking at them and doing little waves 😩

harryfan3 to be harry's best friend 😭

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