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jarofstyles · 4 years

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Teacher’s Pet

A/N: As requested, here is the first part of our professor!harry series. As usual, this we put our little twist on things and we hope that you enjoy! - n+d

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pairing: Harry Styles x Reader

warning: smut, mutual masturbation, use of sex toys

word count: 6.2k

While Harry tried not to show favoritism in his courses, it was hard not to be caring towards the students that showed effort but struggled. That was the case with little Y/N. She was young, pretty, had a bit of an edge to her. From what he had noticed she was kind and often let people borrow pens and once gave a diabetic classmate her muffin when she saw he was a bit pale and taking his blood sugar.

He wasn’t everyone’s favorite professor. He was a tough grader, had a bit of a resting ‘bitch’ face, and he wasn’t necessarily warm and fuzzy. It wasn’t what Harry wanted at all— but it had to be done so that the students wouldn’t just see him as a peer. He had learned that early in. He had to be strict and get respect or he would be stuck with slackers or people who thought he would ‘do them a solid’ as one student had tried to ask with a fist bump. But when it came to sweet students with dyed hair, a devastated little pout, and even watery eyes, he knew he would have to say something.

‘If you would like some help, please come to my office any time after 4. I would be happy to assist in figuring out the material.’

It was written next to a poor grade. He could tell that she had potential— she just wasn’t getting it. He also worried about her word usage. If what he thought of was correct, it would make sense why she was struggling.

School was never one of Y/N’s strong suits. From the beginning of her school career she struggled with getting the hang of concepts and her teachers grew a distaste for her because they thought she wasn’t trying. Y/N was a hard worker though, she did genuinely try, but her best was never enough. A few teachers pointed out that she might have a learning disability, but her parents denied that ever being a case. Her other siblings, both older and younger, were able to grasp concepts easily and were all incredible book smart in addition to being talented outside of school. It seemed that Y/N was just the bad apple of the bunch. Her parents would joke, but of course it hurt. She didn’t even want to go to college originally, but her parents forced her to at least try and get a degree so she wouldn’t be a low life. Y/N only agreed because they said they’d keep paying for her band. Of course, you can only really go to college if you pass though and Y/N wasn’t doing too well.

Professor Styles had always intimidated her, but he just took his job seriously. She could tell by the way he talked about everything that he was passionate about making sure people understood the deeper meaning behind these books and Y/N could appreciate that. It was just a shame that she struggled so much in his class. There were students that excelled in his classes and he was always giving them praise, little surprised smiles and nods, a small ‘good job’ or ‘correct, yes’ here and there. Y/N found herself wanting to try harder in his classes just to get a praise out of him, but she was too nervous to raise her hand even when she did know the answer. This was her third time getting a not so passing grade in this class and Y/N was growing more and more frustrated. She understood the material, or she felt like she did, but whenever it came to reading and remembering, she found herself getting stuck. Little frustrated tears formed in her eyes but she blinked them away, thinking she wasn’t going to muster up the courage to see him today.

But she did.

He had a soft spot for the students that he helped. It was human nature to care for those you spent time with. It wasn’t like how he thought about Y/N though. Okay— he knew it was bad. But he was intrigued by her. Why? He wasn’t able to pinpoint exactly what it was. Maybe her edgy look, maybe it was because she was seemingly submissive and every time he caught her eye she looked like a deer in headlights. She stares at him a lot, he could notice that. But he likes it. So he was pleasantly surprised when she came to his office, looking skittish but also curious. She needed help and he would offer it to her.

“Y/N, it’s nice to see you.” Harry adjusted his glasses and sat up straighter, putting the final mark on a test before looking back up at her with a gentle smile. He had to approach with caution, she already looked like she was going to shit herself. “I’m glad you got my note and weren’t offended. But I was wondering if you’d like some help.” He didn’t say what because he wanted her to tell him what exactly she was struggling with.

Y/N was very nervous, mostly because she didn’t like asking for help from anyone. She didn’t like to seem unintelligent in front of men, especially when they were as attractive as Professor Styles. All the girls on campus talked about how hot he was, how his dominance was a turn on and how none of them were properly able to focus in class. At least they were getting passing grades.

“Hi, professor...” Y/N said softly and closed the door behind her before taking a seat. “I, um... I’m not really good with asking for help.” She explained, pushing a few pieces of hair behind her ear before fixing her septum piercing. Y/N was playing with the hem of her skirt, one of her fingers playing with the fishnet stockings she had on. “I feel like I understand when you’re explaining it and then I go and take the test and it’s like I can’t remember anything you said. But I’m not good at academics anyway so...” Y/N let out a sad chuckle. Her self confidence was pretty low in all aspects, it was a shame because she was a pretty girl. She didn’t seem to think so, hence why she dressed up. At least her clothes she could control.

“Now, don’t say that.” Harry tutted. “I’m sure that’s not true. I bet you just have a different way of learning. If you understand verbally, but freeze when it’s written, that may be the case.” He hummed, flipping through the last work she had handed in. “My question is... it isn’t meant to offend you at all. But do you find difficulty in reading itself?” He approached it gently. You’d be surprised how many adults realize later on in life that they have dyslexia. They were labeled as not the smartest but he was because it took so long for them to understand because the words and numbers get jumbled up. “I’m asking because I notice in your writings, you spell things in a unique way. Or it seems the letters are flipped. This isn’t to embarrass you so please don’t be upset— we just need to figure out why it is that you struggle with the tests.” He leaned forward on his desk, licking over his bottom lip. She was beautiful. In that way when women didn’t know they were beautiful. He wished he could see more of her body— fuck, not going there. Absolutely not. Even though technically it wasn’t like he would be fired, seeing as half the damn staff fucks students. It was always that forbidden element. Either way, he was far too much for this sweet thing to handle. “I would like to help you if you would let me do so.”

Y/N felt really anxious, bouncing her leg to try and keep her composure. She didn’t think she was smart. She wasn’t good at math, wasn’t good at science, she was decent at English but even that seemed to be difficult now that she was reading classics that were barely in modern English. She just decided that learning wasn’t for her.

“I’m not a reader, no.” She shook her head, Y/N found herself having trouble focusing for a long time and when it came to reading words get jumbled up and she struggled a lot. Especially when she started thinking about it too much. Of course Y/N was embarrassed even though he said he wasn’t trying to embarrass her. It was more just her feeling incompetent. She didn’t like making eye contact with him for too long because she felt like he was staring straight into her soul. She was a bit shy and timid when it came to new people. She appreciated that he wasn’t judging her though. “I don’t know what you could do to help, but if you’d like to try we can? I—I don’t want to waste your time.”

“There’s no wasting time if it helps improve your learning, yeah? Please don’t think of yourself like that. You are an important person, just as important as my other students. I want you to succeed.” Harry promised. It kind of broke his heart that she was so sure that her time with him would be wasted. It made him sad that she felt that way. Why? “How about we set up a time... let’s say two days a week? I have time around now, so 4:15 to 5 where I can help you.” He normally wouldn’t do it for most but he wasn’t going to let her suffer. A passion project, so to speak. “I don’t know your schedule but I would be here during that time normally. I basically live in this office anyways.” He smiled in a joking way. “We can work on understanding first what was wrong and then we can have time to work on the new material.”

Y/N nodded her head in agreement, but it did make her worry. Of course she could only try her best but she was so used to failing that she wasn’t sure how much harder she could try. She was barely passing her other classes and frankly she was thinking about dropping out all together. Maybe she was the lowlife her parents made her out to be?

“Can do... Monday’s and Thursday’s..” Y/N told him, “if that’s okay, I have band practice on Wednesday’s.” She wasn’t sure why’s she told him but part of it was to show that she wasn’t just a stupid girl that she did have some talent or at least she thought she did. “It’s um... it’s really nice of you to do this, thank you.” She told him genuinely, though she was terrified of letting him down. He seemed so cool. He wasn’t like this in his classes, he seemed much more approachable this way. Maybe in another life they could have been friends or more than that... no, he probably wasn’t into girls like her. She needed a cigarette.

“Of course. You have my email if you need to reschedule.” But he could see right through her. Of course he could. “But... if you’re nervous, tell me. I can soothe the worries. I’ll be awfully disappointed if you don’t show up and don’t let me know.” He knew she was skittish. He didn’t want her to back out and not take the time to try at the very least. “Let’s just work on it a day at a time. I hope to see you soon.”

When she walked out, he was ashamed to say he was entranced by her ass. He was such a bastard for thinking about a student like that. So bad. But it didn’t stop him from seeing her eyes when he fucked his fist later that night.

----

The next couple of days left Y/N worried. Coming out of professor Styles’ office had left her feeling on edge, wondering if it was even worth trying. She felt like nothing would save her at this point but this was going to be her last attempt. If it didn’t work out she’d just drop out and couch surf. But she didn’t want to have to do that, her kitty Jinx would have to find a new home and that was something she certainly didn’t want. It was Monday and Y/N didn’t go to her classes today, feeling like it was justified because she was meeting with Professor Styles today.

If she was going to work on herself she wanted to be in the best shape possible, so she smoked some weed in the morning to get her day off right and got her things together before getting her skateboard and making her way to his office.

Harry was pleased when she actually showed up at his office. He was half expecting her to drop his class with how terrified she had seemed the past time, and he was curious to see how she had thought about what her grades and his revisions on her test. He had worn a dark red button up today with suspenders, his blazer off and hair a tiny bit messy. His glasses hung off the end of his nose while he looked up at her with surprise, before a smile came on his face.

“Y/N! I’m very glad to see you’ve come.” He hummed, sitting up and leaning back in his chair. “Go ahead and make yourself comfortable on the couch. Would you like a water?” He had a mini fridge in his office. Without listening to an answer, he pulled one out anyways and handed it to her, rounding the desk so he seemed less scary. The desk was a position of power. One he loved, but also didn’t want to take advantage of when Y/N obviously was terrified of it. “Alright. So... you’ve seen my revisions?” He sat on the other arm chair across from the couch, glasses pushed up now with his copy of her paper. “Good. What do you think about your mistakes? Were they because you didn’t understand the material, or didn’t know what to say in paper?”

Y/N gave him a small smile, setting her skate board up against the side wall before taking a seat on the couch. No amount of weed could have calmed her down, she wasn’t even that high anymore it was just the residual feeling. Right now, she was more concerned about having to tell him what was going on inside her mind when she was working on assignments.

“I—I um... both?” She felt a blush creeping in on her cheeks. “I tried to like... watch videos about it, cause whenever I try to read I just get frustrated.” Y/N explained fiddling with the paper. She didn’t like this feeling, it was obvious that it was something that made her emotional which was why she didn’t really talk about it. She let out a breath, looking over what she wrote and seeing all the red pen. It made her want to crawl up into a ball despite how nice he was being. He was trying and so she would also try her best to keep it together. “I find it really hard to focus..”

“I don’t doubt that you do, Y/N. I’m thinking that maybe this isn’t something to do with your focus, but maybe it’s with your reading? You could learn differently than other people and that's absolutely alright.” Harry felt poorly that she was so sad and embarrassed about it. “Look at me.” When she didn’t respond he was trying a different tactic. Soft but very obviously meaning business. “There we are. Now, this doesn’t mean you’re stupid or unable to learn or do well in my class. You just may need to learn differently.” He stood up and grabbed a book from his shelf. “So this book— I got it online. It has some illustrations in it, and I find they’re pretty self explanatory. Maybe this will help you understand it better. Having an image opposed to words in your mind.” He handed it to her. She didn’t need to know he had bought it himself.

Y/N glanced up at him as he told her to look at him, seeing his face go much softer but his eyes still held that same intensity. She followed his with her eyes as he went to get the book. It was much thicker than the others due to all the illustrations but of course it made her feel like a little kid again. She just wished she could be normal.

“Okay...” She said softly, willing to try anything at this point. Of course she was nervous about going forward with his class seeing as she knew things would only get more difficult. Y/N gave him a small thank you as she looked through the book but part of her felt like it wasn’t going to work. No one was determined in helping her learn, they never have been. She’d always gotten very poor, passing grades because she assumed teachers felt bad for her or knew her siblings and assumed maybe she was just the rebellious one. “Sometimes I feel like I do better on the essays, cause I feel like I get it... but I end up getting better grades on the tests than the essays and it’s... disheartening.” She explained with a small frown, “cause I guess on the tests a lot of the time.”

He furrowed his brows, listening to what Y/N had to say. It made sense if she had dyslexia that she would be frustrated and upset with learning altogether but it was important to her and him as well, that she was able to do what she was meant to do. Whatever it was she had wanted.

“I think you should outline your essays more. Each body paragraph, with reasoning and thought. Come up with 4 to 6 reasons for each, word them how it makes sense to you, and write it that way. The structure taught isn’t the only way to do it.” He explained. Writing down on a piece of notebook paper an example of how she could do it. “I know it must be very frustrating— especially if it’s been years that you’ve had to deal with this. I understand. But I do have faith that you’re able to do this. You are intelligent, Y/N. You just have to figure out the right way to show it.”

Y/N let out a sigh, swallowing thickly as he gave her some advice on how to structure her essays in a way that would make more sense. She would try her best, especially with knowing that he was going to be grading things knowing what her situation was. Y/N was going to try her best to sound smart or collected, but she will admit she hadn’t been paying attention for years.

She pulled out a folder of her English work, pulled out the notes she had taken and the lay out for her essays and bit the inside of her lip. Y/N handed it to him and immediately went to pay with her own fingers. Observing him as he looked through what she had done previously.

“I—I try my best, I really do.. but anytime I get the courage to try it just gets worse and I go back to not trying at all because at least then I know I’m failing cause I’m doing it on purpose and not cause I’m stupid.” Y/N was trying to share her feelings to try and make him understand. “‘s really intimidating being in class with people who pick up information easily and I end up just tuning out cause it’s too fast for me to follow... and I don’t want to be that one girl that holds up the whole class with a stupid question.”

“You aren’t. If you have a question that you aren’t comfortable asking in front of everyone, you are always welcome to email me or come to my office at any time I’m here.” Harry promised. Poor girl. Jesus, what happened to her to make her self esteem like this? “You are very capable. Very much a smart girl. You need to tap into different areas of your brain. I promise, we can get your grade up together, alright?” He felt softness and fondness because he knew that sometimes professors weren’t the most understanding. Granted, he was only like this towards students that came for help— and oddly, even more so towards her, but still. “You don’t have to stop trying. You just need a different approach and we can help you find the right one. Do you like movies?” He suddenly remembered that. At her confused look, he continued. “Movies are scripts. Books. Visual. Do you find it easy to follow along with movies?”

She found it hard to believe him because no one really called her smart, ever. Y/N gave him a small smile and nodded her head, pushing pieces of hair away from her face before nodding and realizing she reversed the work she’d just done. He was a very nice man, it was clear that he was committed to helping her and it was definitely appreciated. She just didn’t know why he believed in her so much when no one else did?

“Well yeah... I can follow conversation and stuff.” Y/N let out a small chuckle, sniffling a bit before she continued. “I think another problem is I get too confused about things like.. the deeper meaning stuff in books. Like the themes and whatever you call it. Cause in my head I know what I think it means but then it’s meant to mean something else and then I think I just didn’t understand correctly.” Y/N was definitely more of a creative. She didn’t like following set rules, she liked going with the flow and following her own thing. It worked when it came to her music, she was able to focus then. But she taught herself guitar.

“I think that you need to first take the book at face value. Don’t look for the hidden meanings the first time you read because it will confuse you more.” Harry cleared his throat. She smelled really good. Like peaches and citrus. He wondered if her bed smelled like that, but stronger.

“Tell me some things you like.” He leaned back into the seat. “Things you think we can connect to projects. You said you’re in a band? Have a band?” He remembered that from last time. At her nod he continued. “You can find a song or make a playlist of songs that connect your head to the book. Say... Romeo and Juliet. Hmm.. check yes Juliet, We The Kings. If you’ve heard of that. You can find songs that help you remember.”

“Yeah, I’m in a band.” Y/N nodded her head a bit at him, “it’s like a indie punk thing...” She wasn’t sure what kind of music he listened to but he seemed young enough to think that indie music was good. Who knows, maybe he was one of those jazz guys with all the sweaters he wears. Y/N wasn’t one to judge though. The check yes Juliet reference made her chuckle, remembering middle school and highschool momentarily. He couldn’t be that much older then. “Yeah, I know that song.” She giggled and shook her head, “but yeah, I understand.” She spoke and took note of that in her mind. Y/N didn’t know how she was meant to explain to him that she spent the rest of her free time doing drugs. Tripping and writing music, hanging out with her kitty. That’s about it. Skating, going out in nature. Fucking. She definitely was a bit of a nympho. She assumed it was because of her need for attention.

“Okay. That’s good then. Use that to try and correlate.” He had felt weird watching her leave the room, seemingly in a better mood than she had been before but still nervous. It didn’t help that he hadn’t gotten laid and didn’t really want to have sex with someone else right now. God, if only he could spread her open and dip his cock into her soft cunt. That’s something he was dreaming of.

He thought about it the next night too. So, with his bored and needy thoughts, he went home and did his chores he needed to do, before he went to lay in his bed with his laptop. To be honest. Most porn didn’t do it for him. He much preferred erotic writing or even more so, cam girls. Sex workers deserved support and he always tipped well, though rarely talking in any of them. He was scrolling down the alternative tab when he found what he was looking for. Tattoos and plump lips, tits for a profile photo and a tongue sticking out. Interesting— and she was live.

He just never expected the exact woman in his head to be placed on the screen, smoke coming from her mouth.

Fuck.

Y/N wasn’t exactly sure how she thought about starting camming but it all sort of just fell into place. She started off just selling her nudes and videos for attention and money but then she realized that people would pay really good money to watch live stuff. It’s a good thing too because Y/N loved being watched. Her cams were usually regularly scheduled, but other times they were spontaneous because she was really horny. bbybunnie was her username, most people just called her pet names though, never by her actual name for obvious security reasons. She had quite the following too. People seemed to love her content. She was fun and bubbly and she felt like she put in a great show both literally and physically. Y/N had just done a bong rip, having her windows open to let the smoke out. She didn’t like smoking around Jinx so she’d let her in once she was properly stoned. She was dressed in a black crop top that said princess on it in gothic font, fishnets, and little black panties.

“Been really stressed lately with college and stuff...” Y/N answered a previous question as to what she’d been up to. “Working on assignments in stuff but it gets hard.” She pouted, turning her head when she heard Jinx scratching at the door. “One second.” She giggled and went to grab Jinx, leaving the door open so she could roam. “Here she is, say hi to everyone.” Y/N cooed in a baby voice. It was quite the sight. An alternative girl all soft with her cat, just starting the broadcast. Her vibrator was clearly in frame, already plugged in. A subscriber bought a heavy duty one for her.

And Harry should have clicked off. Right away, he should have exited the screen and said ‘gotta go’ because this was his student. His student he tutored and had fucking come on here to jerk off to a look alike. But he couldn’t. Not finally getting a look at her body. Soft and curved and delicious. Her tits strained the tank top and little tiny panties, some fishnets. Jesus fucking Christ. He let out an audible moan as he watched her sit back on the bed, talking back and forth with some of the comments.

He wasn’t sure what made him comment.

DaddyH: you look beautiful. I love the fishnets.

She did. And he loved them. A lot of the comments were dirtier but not to the point he could see it turning a woman on. He didn’t get an associates in sexology for nothing.

Y/N was pretty good with responding to comments, they were paying after all, but a lot of them were much nicer than most would think. Her community was used to her streams taking a bit to get going because she liked to get super horny, so once she was properly high she usually talked with her comments about things she’s been fantasizing about and what they’d like to see her do.

DaddyH. He was new.

“Hi daddyh, thank you! You’re new aren’t you?” Y/N said with an excited smile, she liked newcomers. It meant someone was interested in her. “Well we’ve got a special show on our hands then.” Her viewers loved when new people came because the shows were always better. She was visibly hornier. She shifted a little bit so she was leaning farther back on her pillows, bringing her legs up and out so she was spreading like a little butterfly. Of course the panties kept things covered but not much. Y/N pulled them up so they were tight on her, “Gotta get me real wet first, yeah?” She hummed, “love knowing you’re watching me... love when you tell me what you like...” It was strategic to talk dirty as if she was talking to one specific person.

Fuck shit motherfucker. Fuck.

Harry didn’t even see her pussy fully yet and he was nearly drooling. What the fuck had he done in what past life to get this type of luck? He wasn’t sure but he did know that whatever he did, he was thankful. He got a good look at her, her lusty eyes. He was a dirty talker. He loved to sex— fuck the English teacher in him. He loved making women a mess of whines and slick and speaking their darkest fantasies into their ears as the writhe underneath him. Y/N would be a fun one to play with. For sure.

DaddyH: you could play over the panties. They’re cute.

He had a thing for panties and fishnets, and she was going right to his kinks.

“But that’s no fun.” Y/N pouted at the comment, wiggling her panties a little bit so she could rub against her clit some. She let out a tiny moan and hummed, letting her hands move up her body to squeeze her tits through her shirt. She was properly eye fucking the camera too, teasing as she started to pull up her shirt. “I’m frustrated, daddy...” Usually she waited till she got a certain number of tips before she took her clothes off, but she was only a few dollars away so she pulled off her shirt revealing that she wasn’t wearing a bra. The tightness of the tank top kept them up, but these men seemed to love natural tits. Her hand slipped down to start rubbing over her clit over top her panties, letting out little breathy moans of pleasure. “Really want to be fucked...” She explained, “Wanna be full...” Y/N pouted and quickened her pace.

“Bent over a desk.”

Harry had a big oak desk he could bend her over and absolutely destroy her. If that’s something she would want. Harry would wreck her. His hand palmed Over his cock as he took her in and looked at her tits. He was an everything man but tits? He could happily suck on hers for an hour and make marks all over, just to listen to her mewl and feel her on his tongue. He squeezed over his sweatpants, feeling himself heat up as he watched her. She was topless, his student. His student was topless and rubbing her clit over tiny little panties, giving a pout and looking at the camera too fucking similar to the way she looked at him in his office today. And while his rational mind knew he wouldn’t be able to look at her the same— he would want to fuck her even more than he had— he couldn’t stop watching.

It was clear that Y/N’s interactions with Harry had spilt over into her mind while she was getting into it. It was that intense stare that he had, his ringed hands, of course there was also the tone of his voice. How he asked her to look at him that one time. She could only imagine him asking her much rougher and in a deeper voice.

“Daddy...” She whimpered out, teasing her own self over her panties as she read over the comments. Y/N giggled are some, loving he praise if men calling her cute and telling her she was pretty and her moans were turning them on. She went and took off her panties cause she really couldn’t take it anymore, revealing her fishnet covered cunt. “Want a better view, hmm?” Y/N smirked, moving to rip them right over the crotch so everyone could see. “I’m so fuck wet for you... look..” She said all excited, pulling her fingers back to show the strings of wetness on her fingers.

Harry was in heaven. Truly. Or hell, because he wasn’t able to be the one ripping the fishnets up and fucking her in them. Her thighs looked soft and delicate and probably so easily bruised. He could do some incredible work down there.

DaddyH: Lick it clean, sweetheart. I know it’s sweet.

There was no way she wasn’t so sweet that his teeth would fill with cavities. No way. He wanted her taste all over his tongue. He was a very giving dom, very much eager to make his lovers cum again and again and again so long as they complied with his soft rules. It wasn’t difficult.

Y/N’s stomach filled with warmth as she read over the comment, bringing her fingers to her mouth and sucking on them properly as if they were a cock. She was starting to like the Daddyh character. He was so sweet and polite in his choice of words, paid well. What was there not to like? She removed her fingers from her mouth giggling a little bit as she decided to show off some more. Y/N pushed the laptop back a bit, turning so they could see her ass and how she arched her back for them relieving that she’d had a butt plug in the whole time. Sleek and black with a little gem at the end. A lot of the things she had were gifts from subscribers. She had an Amazon wishlist specifically set up for them as well as a regular P.O. Box that then routed to her home. She had tons of back up fishnets, some used ones she sold online as well. Lots of other things. She quite enjoyed it.

When did she put that in? Harry needed to know. Was she wearing that when she was sat on his fucking couch? He would surely lose his goddamn mind if that was the case.

He tipped her $50, asking the question he needed the answer to.

DaddyH: Have you been wearing that all day, pretty girl?

The idea of her squirming in class occurred to him. And then the idea of a little vibrator inside of her that he had the remote to, pressing it on to see her reactions. He would buy her one, fuck. He would buy this girl anything if it meant getting to see her squirm and hear her beg him to let her cum.

Y/N wiggled her bum a bit, turning on her back again with a hum. “I’ve been wearing it all day...” She nodded, reaching over for her vibrator because she really couldn’t wait anymore. Everyone who streamed her knew she was impatient, sometimes if they paid a good amount she’d wait and tease herself first but she was needy today. She just kept thinking about professor Styles. “‘m so needy... been so horny lately, might be on for a while.” Y/N blushed, “or I’ll film some special requests on my onlyfans...” She smirked because she knew she would get lots of money for men begging her to stay but loads for custom content too. Y/N turned the vibrator on it’s lowest setting, starting to move it down on to her cunt where she let out a pleaser sigh. “I wanna cum so bad... just wanna cum.” She pleaded, reading to see what everyone was saying. Y/N turned it up a few notches, letting out a content sigh as she moved it over a specific spot. The feeling was indescribable and the noises that left her just showed how relieved she was.

Harry nearly fell over. Her ass was stuffed when she sat on his couch— and it wasn’t from his cock. Harry particularly loved anal, it was a very hot thing to him and the fact she hadn’t been warming his cock like that was near criminal. Truly.

“Sweet Jesus.” He breathed, finally taking himself out of his pants. Spitting thick on to the head, he spread it over his cock and waited for her to continue. She had an onlyfans? He would be subscribing and buying content. He didn’t give a fuck. He wanted it and it would be the best way to keep her close but far. He was watching how her legs trembled and her mouth fell open at the feeling, her body arching into the buzzing of the vibrator. Oh, how he would hold it against her and finger her until she squirted all over the bed and make her clean it up with her tongue. He was a sexual man but kinky more than anything. The idea of it all... it was so hot and wrong and taboo and it was even better in his cock’s mind that she was a no go zone. Made it hotter.

DaddyH: you’ve got such a pretty pussy. How many times can you cum?

Y/N read his comment and let out a whine, turning up the vibrator a few settings higher once again so she could get even closer to her brink of orgasm. “Let’s find out.” She breathed out and continued to crank up the settings. The closer she got the more she thrashed and bucked her hips both up and away from the vibrator. She was very enjoyable to watch she’s been told, specifically because she just couldn’t keep her mouth shut and that she was willing to take a lot. Y/N must have sat there for a few hours just making herself cum over and over again, both with the vibrator and the dildo she had. Once she was all fucked out, 5 orgasms deep, she just laid there and watched the comments roll in. She giggled at a few, breathing heavily as she slowly walked herself down from the blissful headspace she was in. “Thank you, I’m feeling so much better...” Y/N cooed, giving them a smile. “Have a good day or night!” And with that she’d logged off, happy that she had made a new regular.

-------------------------------------------

[part 2]

A/N: bet you weren’t expecting that huh? 😈 and yes!! punk!y/n - n + d

let us know what you think!

masterlist

#writing #harry styles smut #professor!harry #professor!h #harry styles one shot #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction

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minor-solemnity · 3 years

Note

What's your favorite character from the golden trio era?

Oooh idk possibly this is an unpopular opinion - at least it was when I was like, properly in the fandom rather than where I am now which is firmly on the sidelines with my hands over my ears and ignoring everything that I don't like - but Cho Chang. This is probably in part because she got so much undeserved hatred (thank u fandom and author racism) and I am predisposed to like characters that people don't like.

I find her character so heartbreakingly real in a way that I think is entirely accidental on JKR's part. I don't think JK can write women. (Plz don't hate me for that, but like, it's true.) Everything interesting about the characters we are meant to like gets sanded down and ignored in the later books - Hermione's whole thing is like, book smart but not emotionally intelligent, she wants to be right and have people know she's right more than she cares about their feelings. She thinks rules are important until they apply to her. She is ruthless and vindictive and petty. These are interesting character traits that just get completely dropped in the later books. By the time book 6 ends and book 7 starts Hermione is 'wife' and 'mother' and it's kinda sad.

I digress.

Cho's boyfriend is murdered. Cho is understandably upset and heartbroken and sad af. She tries to find comfort in Harry because Harry was there, Harry must understand. Harry can help her process. Their ways of dealing with trauma are completely opposite to each other. Cho seeks emotional vulnerability and closeness from the boy who, of all people, will understand. Harry's way of processing trauma is to ignore it. It happened, it sucks, I will never speak of it again (until all my unprocessed emotions come spilling out and I end up lashing out and getting angry). Those two ways of dealing with trauma are not going to work well together. Harry is honestly a dick towards her - she's his fantasy. She's not a real person to him. When that fantasy comes crashing down he behaves pretty awfully towards her. And if you're reading critically, you come away thinking yeah, Cho's a whiny crybaby who doesn't get Harry at all. What a bitch. When in reality, it's more like - Cho is seriously fucked up and is trying to come to terms with her grief and seek comfort in someone who she thought would get it.

Imagine being like, 16 and being isolated and sad and so fundamentally misunderstood. Imagine being 18 and your friends are dead and the boy you liked is still dead and the other boy you thought you might like is a hero and the only thing you're really known for is the mess that is your grief. Imagine that the popular consensus is that your grief is something to be ridiculed.

I tend to pick and chose which parts of the extended canon I believe in, but I believe in Cho moving to America and getting hitched to an American muggle dude. (Moving to America is probably my own headcanon actually). What would motivate her to move across the world? Grief? Wonderlust? Anger? I imagine it's all three. Idk if this is a relatable feeling to a lot of people, but I get it. I have a constant itch under my skin that tells me to move on whenever a place starts to feel too much like home. To leave. To escape. Nowhere feels like home because home is a collection of broken things. It's a hall of funhouse mirrors - the wires in your brain get mixed up. Comfort and safety become synonymous with 'i will fuck this up' and 'i don't deserve this' and 'everyone will leave'.

I want so many things for Cho. I want her name to make sense. I want her to be seen as something other than 'pretty' and 'sad'. I want her in Boston slamming Sam Adams by Sam Adams grave because she finds it funny. I want her in Boston, learning to drive a car (stick-shift because the driving instructor had made a comment about how automatics are easier to learn and she is tired of people seeing her as something weak and unable). I want her road-raging and I want her to drive across the country because why the fuck not. I want her in New York and the city is so frantic and no one looks at her and she feels so small and the lights are so bright and she thinks maybe she could disappear here and no one would ever know. I want her to find a group of women rollerskating and maybe they invite her to their roller derby group. It isn't flying, but it's fast and aggressive and she's never allowed herself to be aggressive like this before. She's not allowed herself to be angry like this before. No one else has allowed her to be angry like this before.

I want her to go to California and to go to Angel Island and I want her to understand that there have been people like her before. That she is not alone in this feeling. I want her to meet a dude who's studying for an MBA - he doesn't know who she is. Doesn't know what she is. She's just this cute girl who drinks Sam Adams even tho that's a Boston thing and they're in San Diego. He's probably a frat boy. I want him to be a frat boy who takes his degree too seriously and wakes up at like 5 because he's also a gym rat. He takes her to his boxing class. She probably cries during and hey that's okay - she has a lot of shit to work through, he can tell. He doesn't ask about it. Just says her accent is cute. Maybe she starts taking night classes, maybe she doesn't. She's weirdly technologically illiterate - she sends him postcards even though they live in the same city. She says its because her school didn't let them have phones. She's never seen a Tarintino film and that's just like... not cool. They watch True Romance on his shitty box TV in his room in his frat house and she laughs (she laughs like the violence is cathartic) when Alabama completely destroys Virgil. He looks at her and she shrugs and says 'I get it.'

She says that's she's leaving soon - doesn't know where. Probably isn't coming back and again that's... not cool. She's weird about some stuff. Won't talk about home - won't say where she's from. He should be fine with it because like, it's not as if this is anything serious and his life is pretty clearly planned out. Get an MBA, work in some start-up tech company - the internet is a thing now and god, there's money to be made. He thinks maybe that she should like, stay but she also seems like the kind of person who doesn't know how to stop running. And look, he's doing an MBA. He rushed his frat. He goes to boxing every morning without fail. He's determined. He's not good at letting the things he wants go. But he lets her go because she doesn't want to stay. One night afterwards, his frat bro says, philosophical because they're crossfaded, that maybe she can't stay. Maybe she won't let herself stay. And that... That sounds about right.

So he waits. He waits and he gets postcards with no return address - in Seattle, she tries ice hockey. In Miami, she tries surfing. He almost gets on a plane to Cincinnati because she got into a fight with some dude who made his girlfriend cry in public. Apparently, she knocked him out with a punch just the way he showed her to. It feels weirdly romantic.

I want her to write a postcard to him when she's sitting in a bar in Las Vegas and I want her to include a return address. I want him on the first flight out, because fuck his classes? She included a return address. He asks her if she's ever going to go home and she looks at him and says, 'What? To San Diego?'

#cho chang #meta #oh god i wrote meta #this isn't even meta tbh - this is basically a fic #this very much got away from me #can u tell i have feelings about women being angry?#grief and anger taste the same #harry potter #asks #anon #she speaks

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hunflowers · 5 years

Text

Hate Me or Love Me

Word Count: 7.6k

Requested? Yes, and you can too, here :)

A/N: YAY the long awaited arrival of part 2 of Femme Fatale is here :D Thank you all so much for being so patient with me, I appreciate you all so much. The smut itself is 2k so enjoy ya filthy animals. And when you’re done, maybe throw a comment my way! *nose boops*

Everything was different.

In hindsight, this was expected. There was no way everything could simply stay the same and they knew that. They expected things to change, and honestly, they expected it for the worst. But, it was a good different. Everything was good, new, fresh, different.

Three months ago, when Harry visited Y/N at her office, nothing had been the same since. That much was clear when she straddled his lap and kissed him feverishly, losing themselves in a heated make out session, mindlessly dry humping one another until their lips went numb and their bodies felt overheated. She would’ve liked to have her way with him right then and there, but unlike Harry, Y/N liked to keep things in her office professional – besides this, which was a one time thing.

Once they separated themselves – well, once Y/N was able to remove herself from his lap because apparently he was a teenage boy that had no control over his sexual drive – they got to talking. And seriously talking at that because they knew they wouldn’t be able to go about their days anymore normally. They had to situate a common ground, a way they could run their businesses separate but cohesively without any bumps or forks in the road.

For a century, their city had been divided. Now, it was blending back together as a whole. Rough patches were inevitable. That’s why over the course of the last three months, Harry and Y/N dedicated their time to working on the city and its people and their livelihoods, hardly focusing on them as a pair and what this all meant as a step forward in their relationship.

But now, as everything was going smoothly just like they had hoped, they were left with nothing to worry about and were left with no choice but to sit down again and talk about their relationship.

They didn’t see themselves as dating. Dating would be the proper term but the two of them were hardly proper and the word just didn’t seem to fit who they were. Y/N didn’t think calling Harry her boyfriend sounded right and maybe it’s because she’s never really had one so the word was completely foreign to her or maybe it’s because she never expected Harry to hold the title, but boyfriend wasn’t exactly how she imagined him.

They were exclusive, that much was certain. About a month ago they were at a meeting and this guy had come up to Y/N and was all polite and sweet and had the courage to ask her to go out for a drink, but Harry stepped in, not liking the fact that someone had the audacity to come up to her, especially now, as he had these mushy-gushy feelings about her. If he would’ve done this months ago there would’ve been no problem. But, now that Harry got a taste of what liking Y/N felt like, he didn’t want to stop and he wasn’t going to let some random lad swoop in and take his girl.

Something of similar style happened in Y/N’s case too. Two weeks ago, after a long night of bullshit this and bullshit that, they went to their favorite bar. Y/N goes to the bathroom for one minute and when she comes back, she’s greeted not by one, not by two, but three women crowding around Harry. He didn’t look uncomfortable per se, because they were attractive women, but Y/N could just tell he wasn’t enjoying their presence. And this bubble in her gut –she deemed it to be jealousy, swelled the moment she saw one of them put their hand on his shoulder. If Y/N didn’t have any decency, she wouldn’t hesitate to hurt each and every single one of them, but Y/N’s a nice girl, so she went over to them very calm and with the most southern belle smile she could muster and made it very clear they were not welcome to talk her Harry.

Needless to say, they were shaking in their heels.

But, they weren’t dating.

They were simply exclusive.

Right?

Right.

Maybe.

They figured that this night was as a good as any to sit down and hash things out since business was a little slow on both ends, but it seems nothing can ever really go smoothly for them.

At around six, Harry knocked one the door to Y/N’s home, bottle of wine in hand, a kiss to the forehead delivered, and the smell of heavenly dinner wafting up through his nose. The sun was just setting over the horizon, a warm glow radiating through the large windows on the far wall that reeled in the romantic and dreamy atmosphere around them.

Never had Y/N imagined herself to be romantic, wanting to enjoy a candlelit dinner with some wine and with her guy, but she was surprising herself more and more these days, all of her attitudes shifting and changing the more she found herself around Harry. Same goes for him. He would rather be caught dead then settle down with someone, but alas, his morals were taking a hundred-eighty degree turn these days.

And maybe romanticism went a bit more down the sexual path the more they indulged into that bottle of wine. Leaving the remainder of their dinner to sit until Y/N cleans it up later, they moved themselves over to her couch – because that seemed to be their brand – and engaged themselves in another heated make out session. Except this time they moved past the teenage humping stage as Y/N gently shoved her hand into his pants and past his briefs, nails scraping over the patch of hair that trailed to his growing erection, her fingers maneuvering to pull him out and into the open. He hissed at the cool air conditioning encasing his throbbing cock, mouth falling open and Y/N leaned down to press a moist kiss to his tip.

And he knew, he knew he was about to get the best head of his life and she knew was going to give the best head of her life, but then the phone rang. They ignored it at first, letting it ring on as she sank her mouth down and around him, her warm, velvety mouth sucking him in like he was a lollipop. Her tongue flattened against his shaft as her throat constricted the moment he pushed further down her throat, a guttural moan escaping Harry’s lips at the mesmerizing feeling.

Then the phone rang again.

This time it was both of theirs.

Y/N removed herself with a huff, and Harry whined in discomfort, but they both reached for their phones on the table and answered hastily to whoever disrupted them. They both specifically remember telling everyone not to bother them for the rest of the day, yet it seems no one knows how to comprehend simple words.

“What–”

“Y/N I could not care any less if you were in the middle of having sex, you need to get to Central now,” Flo snipped on the other line, although from what Y/N could tell, it seemed like her best friend sounded nervous. And that concerned Y/N a lot.

Then Flo hung up without another word, which sent Y/N into a scramble of pulling herself together and putting some shoes on. Harry looked beyond confused at her while also trying to focus on whatever the person he was talking to was saying and then not another moment passed by before his dick was shoved back into his pants and he was running out the door with Y/N.

“This had to happen the moment I hit the back of your throat,” he scoffed as they waited for the elevator to reach them from whatever floor it started on.

Y/N turned her head to Harry slowly, looking at him with a straight face, and blinked her eyes before smacking him on the chest. “Not the time!”

From what Harry could gather from Will, who was basically the night-shift manager in his office, it seemed there had been a bit of riot down in Central City because God forbid anything go easy. It was no secret people were upset with the merge of the city, because all their lives they’ve grown to hate the other side, and it was understandable because change needs time. But it was fucking tiring having to deal with ignorant people stuck in their ways.

The drive never felt so long, especially with the few traffic heading into Central. It was normally a twenty-five minute drive from Y/N’s house, but this night it seemed everybody and their mother wanted to take a leisurely drive.

Harry and Y/N tried thinking of whatever this could be about, but for the past week there had been absolutely nothing for them to worry about, so this whatever this was really coming out of left field. And it pissed the both of them off to no extent that they had very little to go off of for whatever it was they were walking into.

Y/N tried to text and call Flo numerous times but in the timespan from the phone call to now, she hasn’t responded once. And Flo was always on her phone.

“What the fuck?!” Y/N screamed when her phone went straight to voicemail for the fifth time. It was ringing minutes ago and now there was nothing. Her heart rate had picked up immensely at the thought of something happening to her best friend, and all she could think about is how she would absolutely ruin whoever hurt her. They’re practically signing a deal with the Devil the moment they touch someone Y/N cares for.

They had a general idea of where to drive to because most of Central was occupied by old and abandoned warehouses that mainly housed business meetings and transactions every now and then. Besides that there was the one strip of bars and restaurants right in the middle of Central. Best bet was whatever was happening, was happening in that strip over some pathetic drunken fight. Although that wouldn’t make sense if it was some drunk fight, because Flo would never sound so shaky over drunk people.

Then they saw it.

In the street along the strip, a group of people surrounding others, guns in their hands to keep them on their knees, beneath them as if they were gods. And among the people kneeling was one who was lying on their side, and Y/N could recognize that blonde pixie cut from anywhere.

And then she was seeing red.

Everyone turned to the headlights of the car that was beaming at them, their guns immediately raised and ready to start shooting. Harry and Y/N exited the car with hands raised, knowing not to come off as a threat and risk their lives or the lives of anyone else. Even though it was tempting to go at them because it had been awhile since Y/N got her hands dirty, it was best she kept her cool.

When all of their eyes adjusted to see who was walking towards them, some of them took a breath of relief dropping the aim of their guns before remembering what they were doing in the first place before aiming it back at the group on the floor. Y/N’s eyes quickly scanned over who she was dealing with, not instantly recognizing anybody nor feeling intimidated by any of them. Quickly turning her eyes to Harry, she saw that his jaw was set in a tight clench as his eyebrows furrowed in anger, giving her the feeling she knew who these people were.

When they walked close enough, one spoke up, demanding them to stop where they were, and the way he slurred his words, it didn’t take an idiot to figure out he was plastered beyond comprehension. “Look who decided t’finally show up,” he snarled.

“Pat, what the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Harry growled, dropping his hands down to his sides as his hands balled into fists.

“Could be asking ya the same thing, mate. Last time I checked, we swore on our lives to be the enemy to her yet here you are showing up in the same fucking car. You get one taste of pussy and you suddenly become one,” this Pat guy laughed, swinging his gun around as if it were some toy.

Y/N couldn’t visually recognize Pat, but from the times her and Harry talked about business and who worked with them, she can recall the name Pat being thrown around and from what she could gather, Pat was pretty fucking important on Harry’s side. Guess it didn’t matter anymore because if Y/N knew Harry at all, he had a zero tolerance rate for anyone who goes against his word, and by tomorrow morning, this guy was going to be erased as if he never existed.

And if they weren’t in such a compromising situation right now, the idea of Harry holding such power would turn her on immensely.

Well, it is turning her on immensely she just can’t exactly act out on those feelings at the moment.

Before Harry could get another word in, Y/N stepped closer, gaining everyone to avert their attention to her, a few clicks of their guns to ensure that they were ready to be fired at any given moment. It didn’t phase her though, she was used to that sound more so than she’d like to admit. “You have five seconds to explain why you ruined my night before I ruin yours.”

Then someone that wasn’t Pat stepped closer to her, the nozzle of their pistol now pressed firmly into her temple, keeping her head forward. In her peripheral she could see the pale skin of the guy stretch upward into an open mouthed smirk, and it was then she could smell the overbearing stench of whiskey that masked him.

God, did he fucking bathe in it?

“As your boss, Pat, I’m telling you to save whatever dignity you have left and put down the guns–”

“And as your enemy, Pat, I’m telling you to put down the guns before you make any more regretful decisions.”

“And what the fuck are you gonna do abou’ it?” He laughed, genuinely laughed knees buckling a little as the alcohol consumed his inability to stop laughing. Practically everyone cocked their heads to the side to wonder what was actually so funny, eyes looking around to see if anyone else was laughing.

Nobody was.

Then, all in just a matter of seconds, Y/N stomped on the person’s foot beside her, heel of her boot digging into the toes of his, a high-pitched yelp of shock leaving his lips as she used her arm to knock the gun out of his hand before catching it in her own and smashing the butt of it into his nose, immediately a waterfall of blood gushing down his face and onto his clothes and onto the cement below them. He kneeled over in pain, a scream of anguish sounding in the air as she brought her knee up and into his forehead which knocked him backyard, his body collapsing to the ground in a heap of blood and cries.

That shut Pat up.

His hazy eyes widened in fear and nobody else knew what to do as they swayed from intoxication and cowered in fright. At this point, everyone that was once kneeling on the ground had managed to scurry themselves behind the two demanding forces, because that’s just how dumb these guys were. It made Y/N wonder how the fuck Flo was unconscious–

Right, Flo was unconscious.

Tracing her hand over the sleek black metal of the pistol, Y/N pulled back the slide, aiming the gun right between Pat’s puny little eyes, finger resting very close to the trigger. “Your five seconds are up.”

“Wait!” He pleas, eyes wide with desperation, voice laced with worry as the cool metal pressed against his forehead. “He told me to do it!” He shouted, hand pointing at Harry with a furious nod of his head.

Y/N’s eyes snapped to Harry who looked as confused as ever, but the way his hands rested on his hips and the way his lips were rolled into his mouth, there was some truth, or maybe all of it was true. “What’s he talking about?”

Harry sighed, looking down to his shoes in defeat which made Y/N all the more angrier. Harry pinched his eyes shut, then brought his line of vision to his girl. His girl that he couldn’t imagine wanting to hurt anymore. Yet the past always wanted to come back to bite him in the ass.

“Listen–”

“I’m telling the truth, you gotta believe me! It was all his idea I swear it!” Pat panicked beside Y/N, hands clasping together in a pleading motion, and when she looked to him, she could see the faint moisture buildup in his eyes.

There was a lot happening all at once, yet it also felt like nothing was going on at all. There was the claim Harry set this up yet in the thirty seconds it's been floating around in the air, there’s been no jump to deny it or explain it. And Y/N was feeling a whole lot of everything, and she would appreciate it if something could be explained so she could focus all of her energy on one emotion. And at this rate, anger seemed to nestle itself nice and snug inside her veins.

She’s seen Harry change over the course of the past three months. Honestly, she has, and she knows that deep in her heart he wouldn’t put their blossoming relationship at risk anymore; But something was also telling her this was exactly something he would do. He would use her just to get what he wants, and that’s all of the power. The power to be the sole King of the city.

And that broke her just a little bit.

Harry hasn’t made a move to say anything again, and that didn’t settle well with Y/N. Turning back to Pat, she kicked the shin of his left leg, knocking him down to the floor, keeping the gun against his skin, looking down at him with her nicest smile, hissing out, “Tell me the truth. All of it.”

He gulped, eyes bouncing between the two mafia leaders, before he kept his twitching gaze on Y/N. “He w-wanted to start a war. It’s been his plan for months – to end what his grandfather started and… take you down. Starting with her,” his head gesturing to the girl that still lay unconscious atop the cement.

Then the stressed look left Pat’s eyes, and his original smirk settled back on his greasy skin. “Did you think he actually liked you? Cared for you? … You said it yourself, you’re the enemy.”

“Y/N…” she heard him step closer, his fancy shoes scuffing across the ground. Y/N cringed at the idea of him being closer, so without really thinking about it, Y/N bashed the butt of the gun into Pat’s head, knocking him out, now having it aimed at the guy who’s managed to hold her heart in his hands and then crush it.

She shouldn’t be surprised and she will listen to what he has to say, but this didn’t change the fact that he wanted a war. There was always the tension that a war was bound to happen just to keep everyone on their toes, but Y/N never had the intention to actually start one unless necessary. She figured he thought the same because war meant a lot of unnecessary deaths were bound to happen and a lot of clean up and resituating the city that no one had time for.

Guess she was wrong.

“I would say I’m shocked… I’m not,” Y/N shrugged, looking at the gun in her hand before dropping it to the floor. Even if he wanted to hurt her, she couldn’t do that to him. Not now, not after everything they’ve worked for.

“I said it a year ago when I was drunk off my mind in a brief conversation! I wasn’t going to act on it, c’mon you know this, you know me,” he scoffed, hands never leaving the comfort of his hips. He stood as if he were her father scolding her for something ridiculous, and maybe she was overreacting a little over everything, but she didn’t take shit from her father and she wasn’t going to take shit from him.

“Regardless, your people hurt mine and that goes against the biggest rule of conduct. Fix your shit and get your own ride home,” she rolled her eyes, stepping over the body of the first guy who was still cradling his broken nose in his hands.

Y/N made her way to Flo, gently touching her to see if she would wake within the next few moments. From the way her lip was busted, the small bruise forming under her eye, and the blood drying in her hair, Y/N could tell she didn’t go down easy and she needed to get her out of here as quickly as possible to make sure she didn’t suffer from any long term damage. When she noticed her friend stir a little, eyes squinting open as she moaned in pain, hand flying up to caress her aching head, Y/N went to help her up, helping her walk to her car parked down the road.

Y/N didn’t know how to feel. She really didn’t. She couldn’t be mad at Harry for saying something when he was drunk, because God knows the amount of things she’s said when she her blood was replaced with vodka, so it would be wrong to be a hypocrite. But she can’t trust that one time a year ago was the only time he discussed it. If it were something that was mentioned once on a whim, there would be no way Pat and his men would do something like this without some sort of order. None of it made sense and the more Y/N tried to think about it, the worse her headache got.

But the one bit she couldn’t stop her mind from reeling over and over again, like it was a broken record. Did you think he actually liked you? Cared for you? … You said it yourself, you’re the enemy.

Y/N never, ever got herself into relationships. She didn’t want one, wish for one, crave for one because with her lifestyle, it’d be difficult to keep up with. It wasn’t in her cards and for all of her life she was fine with that. But now that she got that taste of one, taste of something that resembled something of a relationship, she didn’t want to give it up. But did he like her? Or was it all some sort of show just so he could rip the rug right out from under her feet?

This was exactly why she didn��t do relationships. Because now she was getting too much into her own head and didn’t know what to believe anymore. And she would be damned if out of everybody on this fucking planet it would be him to break her heart.

When Harry saw her car speed away, he knew he fucked up. He felt something pang in his chest, in his heart when he saw her cold eyes for the last time. When she said she wasn’t shocked, her eyes looked bewildered yet defeated all at once and for Harry to know he was the cause hurt him. He was used to her being angry at him, it was practically how they lived their lives, but over the past three months, every time their eyes locked, he saw something else hidden behind them, flashing across them, dancing over them, like admiration and adoration. He would give anything to get that look back instead of the icy glare.

Picking up the gun that she dropped, a fit of rage washed over him as he realized he now had to deal with this group of idiots before him. They all looked as if they were going to shit their pants, and rightfully so because they knew what happened when anyone crossed him.

They get a bullet in their skull.

Maybe everything wasn’t so different after all.

❊ ❊

Moments passed by.

Silence.

Seconds passed by.

Nothing.

Minutes passed by.

Not a word was said.

They sat in gruelling quietude, neither of them jumping to break the tension.

It had been a month since they saw each other. That was mainly due to the fact they both had over inflated egos and didn’t want to be the first to cave. She was mad at him and felt it was necessary for him to want to contact her first because he was the one who had some serious explaining to do. And he did try to talk to her. He called her at least ten times a day for the first week, which she declined all of them. So, then he was angry and gave up and didn’t want to beat his already bruised narcissism. Then, when he didn’t call her again, she got even more angry that he didn’t want to try harder for her. So they ignored each other for three weeks after that. And when the silence became too overwhelming, Y/N decided to give him a call back, so it would seem she was taking the higher road and was the better person.

Then he ignored her.

It was all a competition, and it always would be between the two. Even when they didn’t really mean to make things so complicated, there was that underlying rivalry creeping back into their lives. Maybe it would never go away, and that’s okay because being rivalrous was their chivalry, and that’s what drew them together as partners both business and pleasure.

Eventually, they put their differences aside - or rather their similarities, and they finally discussed a time and place for when they should meet and actually talk about things. And they decided on a public restaurant to make sure they wouldn’t cause too much of a scene. Not that that’s ever really stopped them before but it was worth a try.

But, again, it was a battle of who would open their mouth first. This never ending cycle was kind of sickening, but it was also a little funny. They were laughing on the inside, but on the outside they could kill someone with their dirty looks. The poor waiter that had come over recognized who they were instantly and was already nervous from the get-go, but when he saw how miserable and angry they both looked, he was near shitting his pants. When he saw Harry send him a grimace at his presence when he approached the table, he wanted to cry. And if Y/N wanted to lose and break the silence first, she would’ve scolded Harry for being so rude to someone just doing his job.

But she wanted to win, so she kept her trap shut.

Of course, though, they both tied when they spoke the first time, at the same time. If being mad at one another wasn’t angering enough, but to both speak at the exact moment so neither could have the title of being winner or loser was near infuriating.

“I’m not mad y’know-”

“Look, I’m sorry-”

At her words, Harry looked a little perplexed, head tilted in confusion at her confession, a million thoughts now running through his head. If she wasn’t mad, what was with the silent treatment? What was with the icy look before she left him that shot right through his heart? He knows he deserved it so how could she not be angry? If the roles were reversed, Harry would expect a decent apology and to be honest, he’d probably, but he’d never forget.

Maybe that’s why he liked her so much. She amazed him in so many ways because no matter how similar they were, they did also have their differences. One of them being that Y/N would inevitably always be the nicer one out of the two. She had the reputation of being the nice boss. People preferred living on her side of the city a lot more than they did his, so even though it used to be illegal to move to the other side, people always found a way to emigrate. And right now, that much was clear that she’s a better person than him by a landslide. Harry would always admire that about her and could only wish that he matched her.

Taking a sip of his wine, he licked his lips in thought, gesturing for her to continue with her previous statement. Ladies first, after all. And even though she felt it was really his job to do a lot of the talking now, she was going to let it slide. “I did a lot of thinking this… break. I was mad at first, I’ll admit. Thinking after everything we’ve worked through for you to go behind my back and want to hurt me, well, hurt me and I hated that I let myself get to the point where you were able to hurt me. I was mad that I didn’t see it coming yet at the same time I did see it coming and didn’t do anything to prevent it. I was mad that my best friend got hurt because of you and it took everything in me not to put you in the same state she was in.

But, I realized that what I was feeling wasn’t anger, but… pain. What Pat said about you not actually liking me didn’t settle well with me at all and I got a little too into my head, thinking he was probably right and I’m the biggest fucking fool there is. Then I did more thinking and realized he’s fucking wrong. You’re not the same disgusting person I’ve known all my life after these past months, and I know you like me. You like me so much and I know that because I like you so much. So, long story short, I’m not mad. But, Flo is, so you better fucking apolgize to her,” Y/N concluded, reaching for her dry martini, finishing off the remaining droplets of it, observing Harry as he sat very stunned from her rambling session.

That was a lot more to take in than he anticipated.

At least she wasn’t angry. But he still had some apologizing to do and wouldn’t stop until she knew how sorry he was. She was right, he did like her a lot and he needed to fix this to the best of his abilities, because he wants her in his life liking or loving him rather hating him. What a sap he’s become.

“I will, I promise. I never intended for that to happen and I know with our past it doesn’t seem too far off, but I could never do something like that now. I was drunk when I first mentioned it, but I’ll admit the idea of a war had been brought up on a few more occasions past that. But when we first agreed to merge together, I made it very clear to my team that any previous ideas were to be thrown out because this was the new plan, and the plan I intend on sticking to. I don’t know why Pat did what he did, and it pisses me off to no end that he did it.” Taking a breath, Harry took a moment to gather his next thoughts, leaning forward on the table between them, green eyes never leaving hers.

“I know you said you don’t believe what he said, but I’m telling you myself, just to clarify your thoughts, that it wasn’t true. You’re not my enemy… anymore and I want you in my life. What we have is good and I don’t want to risk losing it. So even if you’re not mad, will you please forgive me?”

Y/N has to refrain from smiling brightly, biting her lip to conceal her laughter. The way he still wanted to apologize even if she declared he didn’t really need to, and the way his mouth formed itself into a small pout as he awaited her forgiveness was too cute to not want to smile at. She wanted to pinch his cheeks like a mother to her child and coo at him with all of the love in the world. Not hating him felt so nice and like such a relief that she couldn’t even comprehend how they lasted that long in the first place. Over the months she got to know him a lot better than she used to, and he’s one of the biggest dorks she’d ever meet, so not liking him simply didn’t feel like an option anymore.

Nodding her head softly, Y/N leaned across the table to capture his lips in a soft and quick kiss, ensuring that they’re back on good terms. Harry couldn’t hide the smile that flashed across his skin.

“Now that that’s settled, you’re paying,” she motioned at the checkbook that was just placed between them. He rolled her eyes at her before picking it up to read the total and reaching into his pocket to pull out his money.

They both stood up, pushing in their chairs and exited the restaurant practically different people from who walked in. They didn’t hold hands walking to their cars because that was just a little out of their comfort zones, but they did walk in step, arms brushing against one another as they kept stealing fast glances at one another through their sunglasses.

Stopping in front of her car, they stood chest to chest, goofy smiles planted on their faces that hardly seemed like they were leaving. Then of course Harry had to ruin the cute moment. “Now that that’s over, do ya think you can finish that heavenly blowie? M’practically itching to feel the back of your throat again.”

“Shouldn’t you be the one trying to please me?” She quipped, digging into your purse to get out your keys.

“You’re right, I’m also itching to feel you on my tongue. Sixty-nine?”

Somehow, that’s exactly where they ended up. On her king-sized bed, Harry’s cock down her throat again, her nose brushing against the taut skin of his balls, her dripping cunt resting over his face as he devoured her like she were his last meal.

Crazy how a day could change so quickly.

She gagged as his hips involuntarily thrusted upward into her velvet warm mouth, tears springing to her eyes causing her to rest her hand on his thighs and give herself a moment to breathe. He ushered a quick mewl of an apology, aching to get her back on him, his release impending. He knew she was sensitive and he tried his hardest not to rock his hips harder and more frequently, but when she was moaning around him, sending vibrations up his spine because his tongue delved into her pulsating core, he found it very difficult.

Dabbing at her eyes with her fingers, she took her hair and wrapped it around her fist to keep it out of her as she pushed herself as far down as she could on him. Harry let out a moan similar to that of a pornstar as she bobbed her head faster, his tip constantly pushing against her soft throat, which shook Y/N and had her thighs clenching around his head fiercely when she felt the familiar coil in her stomach begin to churn.

Harry removed one of his hands from the soft skin of her ass, admiring the nail and handprints he’d left in his wake before he took his thumb and focused rubbing fast circles on her clit while his tongue continued to lap up her juices and plunge into her sopping wet entrance. At the attention of her bud, Y/N was a mess, her work on Harry becoming a lot sloppier, saliva trailing down the sides of her mouth and onto her chin, dripping to his balls and onto the sheets below him. Harry could feel her spit travel from her mouth and onto him, and the vision of her mouth stuffed completely of his cock had him twitching in her mouth and he wanted nothing more than to cum in her mouth and for her to come in his.

Removing himself for a moment so he could speak, he placed kisses along her pussy and thighs, words coming out after the smack of his lips to skin. “M’close baby… gonna cum in deep in your mouth – fuck, I know you’re close too… c’mon, princess, cum for me. Want you to soak my face, have your honey, shit – dripping down my chin.”

He always had a way with words.

Holding his balls in her hand and softly tugging on them and massaging them, without using actual words she was also encouraging him to cum down her throat, wanting to swallow every drop he had to offer. She wasn’t going to put all this work in for nothing.

And because these two were so insync these days and never letting the other come out as superior, they both managed to reach their climaxes at the same time. Ropes of his release flew down Y/N’s throat, and wave after wave of pleasure seeped onto Harry’s face, and both wouldn’t want it any other way.

Removing Harry from her mouth and moving her body off his, they both took a moment to breathe, never being so grateful to get a taste of fresh air. But before they relaxed too much, they busied themselves into a good old fashion make out session, enjoying the taste of themselves on each other’s tongue. Y/N separated their mouths to lick up the remnants of her on his chin, this having Harry’s cock practically shoot right back up.

Harry sat up against the headboard of her bed, situating themselves so Y/N was sat in his lap, her slit slowly guiding up and down against his shaft, quickening his recovery period.

“You’re not too exhausted, hm? Need you to fuck me good, H,” she murmured against the skin of his neck, biting on the flesh, planning to make it very evident that no one else had the privilege of touching him again.

He had the same thought process, except he didn’t care about other people, rather wanting to leave marks on her skin so she would remember who put them there and who would be the only one to put them there. Her poor ass was bright red as he kept grabbing and slapping at the battered skin, but he didn’t care. If she couldn’t sit, oh well.

He gripped her hips, forcing her downward to grind against his growing erection, giving her her answer. He would never forgive himself if he didn’t feel his prick nestle into her tight walls after this month of separation. Her pretty pussy is all he can think about these days and if he could keep himself inside of it forever, he would. So, yeah, he’s gonna fuck her good, with a hint of love making because he wants her to know that he’s hers for as long as she’ll have him.

“I’m nowhere near finished,” he replied, bending his head down, latching his mouth around her pert nipple, tugging on it with his teeth as his other hand reached for her other and pulled on it between his fingertips.

He took his time on her tits, paying equal attention to each nipple, swirling his tongue around them, lightly sucking and pinching, all of which was making her moan quietly into the otherwise silent atmosphere.

She kept the slow grind of her clit on his mound going, knocking her head back as she was in euphoria as he continued his assault on every inch of her body. She wrapped her fingers into his curly hair, tugging on the roots like he likes, his moans reverberating on her chest, hitting against her heart that pounded against its cage.

Removing himself with a pop, he smiled up at her with a boyish grin, reaching both hands up to squeeze her tits, pushing them together, imagining himself fucking them now, her chest slippery with spit and precum as he slid between her slowly, enjoying every second of it.

But he’d save that for another time.

“Gonna ride me, love? Can you do that f’me?”

She didn’t exactly want to, because even though she asked him if he was tired, she was a bit exhausted herself. She would certainly try to ride him, bounce on his dick with all of the power she has in her, but she couldn’t count on having energy forever. And something told her he wanted her doing all of the work all the way through.

Y/N wasn’t a pansy though, so she nodded her head and lifted herself onto her knees, feeling him bob up and his head hit against her moisture. Reaching down and taking ahold of his member, she tortuously moved him between her folds before sinking down on him, inch by inch, savoring the moment of connection.

They groaned in unison, electric pleasure shooting up both of their spines as he stretched and filled her to the brink. It took her a moment to fully adjust to his size before she rolled her hips forward, her spongy walls sucking him in.

Harry wrapped his hand in her hair, pulling her head back so her throat was on full display, peppering hot kisses along the skin. “Feel so good, baby. Your cunt was made for me. Tha’s it, fucking bounce on me, get that ass moving.”

She whimpered at his words, mouth falling open as her eyes rolled back the moment she felt him hit that spongy spot inside of her over and over again. Harry couldn’t resist resting his thumb on her tongue, and she couldn’t resist closing around it, sucking on it like a baby. Her tongue circled around it, gently biting on it that had him slapping her ass in response. Y/N cried at the impact, which also had her sinking down on him a lot quicker.

“Faster, Y/N. Act like you’re mad at me… ruin me, c'mon know you got it in ya,” he growled, taking his hand away from her face and gripping her hips again, thrusting up into her harshly to egg her on. He bent his knees which lulled her body closer to his, the angle pushing him a little deeper inside her walls.

Sweat coated their bodies as she worked herself to a faster pace, her hands resting on the headboard behind him. Her clit rubbed against his tuft of hair, sending her into a frenzy as her orgasm approached a lot quicker than before. She would be done for soon but she needed to make sure he wasn’t so far behind, and when she clenched down on him, hearing his whine of delight let her know it wouldn’t be long until he was coming undone.

“Harry… oh my God Harry.”

“We’re almost there, keep going. Harder, Y/N, you can do it.”

“Har–” She cut herself off the moment his hand wrapped her throat, lightly squeezing and causing her to now have to work for her air.

She crossed the finish line. She couldn’t help it as her orgasm suddenly shocked through her body, her thighs clenching and twitching around his, her hands holding onto his shoulders with a tight grip. She rode it out, crying at the sensitivity of her clit as she continued to sink onto him, waiting for him to follow.

Because she came, she felt this sudden wave of extreme fatigue, hardly finding the energy to keep herself upright at the moment and Harry noticed this. So, he pushed her body backwards so her back hit the soft material of her comforter, and now he put the effort in and pounded into her at a furious pace. His hand didn’t leave her throat and because he was a cocky son of a bitch, he attached his thumb to her hypersensitive bundle of nerves, coaxing a third orgasm out of her.

Y/N was crying at the sensation, her legs trembling as she released again, his cock completely coated in her wetness, the sound of their connecting genitalia heightening at the increased moisture between them. Admiring how much of a mess she looked beneath him, her hair a scattered mess, throat and chest littered in love bites, thighs and ass bright red and bruising like a peach, he decided why not add to the collection.

Pulling out of her, much to his dismay, he pumped himself a few times in his hand before he let out his second round all over her thighs, pussy, stomach and chest.

He was satisfied to say the least.

Both of their chests were heaving, their breathing patterns working oppositely, she breathing in and he breathing out. Harry laid himself down beside her, eyes drooping closed in utter contentment, a smile dashing across his face as he and his girl lay completely worn out.

“I need… to get cleaned… but too… tired*,” Y/N murmured in a pant, not finding the energy to wipe off his cum that littered her entire body.

“I quite like the way you look,” he started, flipping to his side and caressing her soft cheek under his palm.

“All fucked out, and all because of me.”

#maybe the ending couldve better ill admit #but oh well i donut care pls hope u enjoyed :)#harry styles one shot #harry styles blurb #harry styles imagine #harry styles au #harry styles smut #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #harry styles writing #harry styles #one direction fanfiction

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trashinaglass-archive · 5 years

Text

Overprotective

Y/n goes to dinner with Tom and his family, and she realizes she didn’t go alone.

A/n: This was random, but I thought it would be cute. Hope you enjoy.

I went ahead and named the roommate/friend just because it got confusing if I didn’t.

Usually when I write, I try to make it as open and inclusive as possible, but there are a few things that I write according to me and how/who/what I am, so just kinda correct it to your liking:)

“Just a heads up,” you said as you walked into the living room of your apartment. You had shared an apartment with your brother and his friend, Bryan, for a few years now. “I’m going to dinner with Tom and his family tonight. Don’t wait up.”

“So you’re meeting the family tonight?” Bryan asked.

“Yes, I’m meeting the family tonight,” you clarified.

“So things are getting serious,” y/b/n asked.

“Things have always been serious,” you told them with a shrug. “This is just the first time I’m getting to meet them for more than a minute or a phone call.” You had met the twins before and saw them pretty often. You hadn’t met Tom’s parents or his youngest brother except for one time when you had stopped by their house to return Tom’s wallet he had left on your dresser, but you had to rush out for an appointment you had scheduled.

“Are you going to need backup?” Y/b/n asked completely serious.

“No, I don’t need backup,” you told him while laughing humorlessly.

“I think you need back up,” Bryan chimed in making things worse for you. You threw your head back and put your hands over your eyes.

“Oh, gosh. Please don’t do anything stupid while I’m with his parents,” you whined. You didn’t know what the two boys would do, but you wouldn’t be surprised if they did something. The both of them were notorious for pulling pranks on their friends. They hadn’t ever done anything to you so you thought you were in the clear. “I have to finish getting ready, I’ll see y’all later,” you told them as you walked away. You silently prayed they would forget about you and that you could have a nice evening with everyone.

. . .

You were making your last minute checks to make sure everything was perfect. You had loose waves in your hair falling nicely around your shoulders and your makeup was flawless. You wore your standard black jeans with a white top and long tan cardigan over it. Simple yet cute. You heard a knock at the door. You grabbed your purse and scrambled to answer it before one of the boys did. But as luck would have it, Bryan beat you to it. He opened the door to reveal Tom.

“Hey,” You said as you made your way to step out the door.

“Not so fast,” Bryan said sticking his hand out in front of you. “I want you to answer a few questions first,” he said looking at Tom. You could tell Bryan was joking, but the tone in his voice was so serious.

“Yes, of course,” Tom replied to him. You could see in his eyes that he wasn’t taking anything to heart; he thought it was pretty funny, actually.

“Right. First, where are you going?”

“Some Italian place, I can’t recall the name of it,” Tom told him. Bryan glances at you for a second before looking back at Tom.

“Bad answer. Second, will you be getting dessert after?”

“I don’t know yet, we’ll see as the night goes on.”

“I’ll take that. Third, do you plan on having y/n stay the night?” Bryan finally asked making you mutter a quiet ‘oh my gosh’ and put your face in your hand.

“I don’t know, I guess that’s up to her,” Tom said with a laugh. That was not a question he expected to hear.

“Wrong. You’ll have her back by 10:30 sharp and not a minute later.” Bryan said shaking his finger at Tom. Before he looked at you and made the ‘I’m watching you’ face at both of you. “Now get out my sight, and eat some damn good food.” You walked out the door and down the hallway with Tom before you looked back at your doorway.

“You’d think he’s my father,” you said with a laugh.

“I think he thinks he’s your father,” Tom said echoing your laugh. He grabbed your hand as you made your way to the parking garage and got in Tom’s car. He drove to the restaurant where you were going to meet his family. You walked inside and saw they had already been seated. As you walked closer to the table, you heard your name come from a woman’s voice.

“Y/n!” You heard Nikki call out to you. She stood up and met you half way giving you a big hug. “It’s so nice to finally meet you properly. You look gorgeous!”

“Thank you! It’s nice to finally meet you too,” you told her. You turned as you saw Dominic stand up as well.

“How are you, y/n,” he said hugging you as well. “It’s nice to finally meet the girl that this one won’t shut up about,” he joked pointing at Tom. You laughed as you looked at him. He slightly blushed as he looked at his dad.

“You didn’t need to say that,” he said quietly. “Here, have a seat, love.” Tom guided you to sit at the table between him and the twins, Sam being closest to you. You greeted them as you sat down and looked toward the youngest of the bunch.

“And this is Paddy, the baby of the family,” Tom teased him causing Pads to make a face towards him. “Pads, this is y/n.”

“How are you, Paddy?” You asked him politely.

“I’m good, really hungry actually,” he said as he looked at his menu. You laughed.

“I can fully relate to that,” you said with a laugh.

The waiter came to the table after you said this. You ordered a water to drink and started to look at the menu before you heard Nikki talking to you.

“So, y/n. What do you do currently? Do you have a job or are you in school?”

“I just graduated actually. I got my degree in nursing, which is super cool,” you told her.

“That’s exciting. What area do you plan to work in?”

“Neonatal ICU,” you told her before you saw something strange popping up over Nikki’s shoulder.

“Oh my gosh,” you said quietly as you crossed you arms on the table and placed your head on your arms.

“You okay, darling?” Nikki asked as you picked your head up. You were trying to contain your laughter, but it felt impossible. At the table right behind yours sat your brother and roommate; they were wearing ridiculous wigs and those glasses with the big nose and fake moustaches. You saw your brother give you a big thumbs up like nothing was wrong.

“I’m so sorry,” you told Nikki. “My brother and roommate are sitting at the table behind you, and they’re just ... something else,” you said with a laugh. Everyone looked at the table they were at and let out at laugh. They took that as their invitation to join your table.

“Good evening, we’re customer service here to make sure you have a good dining experience,” y/b/n said in an Italian accent.

“Yeah, you should totally get the lasagna, it’s great,” Bryan said not even bothering to disguise his voice which caused y/b/n to smack him.

“Stick to the plan,” he said quietly.

“What are you doing here?” You asked the boys trying to get them to leave quickly.

“We’re the backup,” Bryan said proudly puffing his jacket.

“I told you I don’t need backup,” you said seriously.

“Hey! You keep your hands where I can see them,” y/b/n told Tom as he noticed his hand had moved under the table to rest on your thigh. He pulled his hand out and raised both in surrender. You looked at Tom as you tried not to get upset with the delinquents in front of you.

“Alright,” y/b/n said sensing you getting close to exploding. “We will leave you to it. Y/n has too many weapon choices in front of her for us to stick around,” he said making the boys all laugh. They waved at you, and you threw them the bird. You watched as they exited the restaurant.

“It’s like having two toddlers that I constantly have to entertain, and they won’t leave me alone,” you said feeling exasperated. “So, that was my brother, y/b/n, and our roommate, Bryan. They are the absolute best but also the absolute worst.”

Nikki laughed as you tried to explain the craziness that just happened. “Don’t worry about it. I know how boys can be,” she said looking at her own boys.

You shook your head looking back down at the menu. You felt you cheeks finally cool down from the hot blush of embarrassment the two boys had caused. Tom places his hand back on your thigh.

“That was the best thing I have ever seen,” Harry said looking toward you. “Are they always like that?”

“Always,” you emphasized.

“Maybe you can invite them around more, be the entertainment from time to time,” Dom joked.

You were glad they hadn’t taken it seriously. They all found it hilarious.

“They do it because they love you,” Tom reminded you. You nodded, telling him you have to remind yourself about that often.

“What did you need backup for?” Paddy asked you.

“I wish I knew. They were asking me if I needed them to be my backup before I left, and I told them to stay home. I have no idea why they came,” you tried to explain their behavior again.

“I liked them, y/n,” Paddy told you. “Don’t punish them too bad.”

You laughed at what Paddy told you. “Okay, I won’t. Just for you,” you promised him as you sipped your water.

You finished dinner and had a lovely time with the Holland family. Tom drove you back to the apartment and walked you to your door.

“That went well,” Tom said as you stopped in front of the door.

“Yeah, I just wish the two bozos wouldn’t have ruined it,” you said with an eye roll. Tom laughed and grabbed your hand.

“They didn’t ruin it,” Tom assured you. “No one was upset with them but you. They actually thought it was pretty funny.”

“I guess so,” you say, still unconvinced. Tom lightly laughed at you and pulled you into him. He began to lean down toward you to kiss you but was interrupted before he could.

“NOPE!” You heard y/b/n yell through the door. You and Tom both looked toward the sound of the voice before you rolled your eyes again. You grabbed Tom’s face and kissed him.

“Night, Tom,” you said.

“Good night, darling. I’ll text you later,” he said as he walked away. You opened your door and saw both Bryan and y/b/n fall to the ground.

“Y’all are the worst!” You yelled at them, half joking and half not. You grabbed the closest thing to you, an plastic bat from the fair, and began to wack both of them with it. You eventually stopped and they stood up.

“Damn, you could’ve been gentler,” Bryan said. They were both laughing while they rubbed they’re wounds. They thought it was hilarious how you reacted.

“That was me being gentle,” you told him. “And the only reason I was gentle is because Paddy told me not to hurt you two for real.” You headed for your room ready to change and take your makeup off.

“Remind me to thank the kid when I meet him,” y/b/n said to Bryan, him agreeing.

#tom holland #tom holland imagine #tom holland blurb #tom holland one shot #tom holland x reader

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mathiaskillmaster · 5 years

Text

My GOT Ending: The First of the Starks (Episode 4 Season 8) Part 1

Jon Snow, his hands blocked by chains, finds himself sitting in a makeshift camp set up by the men of the golden company. The young king of the north is deeply worried and shows it. When he went away with Rhaegal to bring the King of the Night on him, the Battle of Winterfell was still raging, the wights had broken down the defenses and Jon unfortunately ignores everything that has happened so far. Harry Strickland, very confident and satisfied with his capture, comes to see him, offering him a sip of water, but Jon remains exasperated by the almost detached behavior of the mercenaries and try to talk with the captain of the mercenaries. _ "Listen, I'm not kidding! The army of the dead is on us and thousands of people are dying! You must act, help us, I beg you!" Jon claims, upset, but is quickly restrained by a mercenary who forces him to sit down under the threat of his sword. Harry Strickland listened, contenting himself with a nod and a smirk. _ "Thanks for the news. Queen Cersei will be delighted." responds Strickland. Jon remains speechless. The captain orders his men to move the camp and Jon is taken by force towards the south. But as Jon glances behind him as he is dragged by two mercenaries, he quickly observes Harry Strickland addressing one of his men on horseback and seeming to entrust him with a messenger mission. *********** After the Battle of Winterfell was lost, the survivors, who had managed to embark on the ships of the Targaryen fleet, went to Dragonstone for refuge, Daenerys having opened the doors to the refugees from the north. In the fortress, everyone is busy caring for the wounded. The unsullied, dothrakis and northerners soldiers having survived, who are few in number, make an inventory and try to establish a balance sheet of losses in their ranks, all under the direction of Brienne, Podrick and Jaime. An atmosphere of defeat reigns over the fortress. The sacrifices of some friends remain anchored in memories. Brienne remains strong and do not forget Tormund who gave his life while a white walker was preparing to slaughter her. Sansa remains deeply marked by Theon's death, as does Missandei for Grey Worm. Jorah could not have forgotten the heroic sacrifice of Lyanna against a giant who massacred her troops. The feeling of helplessness is total. Assisted by Gilly, Samwell uses some talents he has learned at the citadel to help the injured. Unfortunately, some people are seriously injured and many people succumb to it. Samwell finds himself helpless in front of a Northerner soldier who has had an arm torn off and just died. Tyrion, Sansa, Varys, Missandei, Jorah and Davos have gathered in Dragonstone's council room and are thinking about what they can do to stop the advance of the army of the dead. Earlier, Sansa wrote a letter to Yara Greyjoy, announcing the heroic sacrifice of her brother Theon at the Battle of Winterfell and humbly asking for help. Arya, on her side, decided to isolate herself, and Gendry has trouble trying to give her back a smile. Sandor is also isolated, embittered, trying to drown his anger in alcohol. But his loneliness is quickly disrupted by the arrival of Melisandre at his side. Sandor gives her a quick, scowling look and drinks another sip. _ "If you still come to tell me the same shit as Beric did, it's really not the moment ..." warns Sandor already very angry. The Red Priestess does not seem intimidated and approaches anyway. _"I did not come here to judge you. Only the lord of the light can give me that right. I'm here to fulfill a promise I made to Ser Beric. He wanted to give you something." _ "And what could this moron have to offer me?" the Hound asks, raising an eyebrow, wary. Melisandre leans over him and slips a few words into heis ear. Sandor listens, and seems disconcerted to the highest degree. _ "Are you fucking kidding me or what?" he asks. Melisandre merely shakes her head and moves away, leaving the man alone with his thoughts. He seems stunned by what she has just said and remains pensive, looking straight ahead in the vagueness. As Melisandre crosses one of the corridors of the castle, a familiar voice is heard. _"The last time we saw each other, you told me that you had to come back to Westeros to die ... Is that still the case?" Varys appears at a nook, staring at the Priestess almost suspiciously. Melisandre obviously recognizes him and is content to send him a slight neutral smile. _"Nothing has changed. My master has shown it to me again....you and me ... in the midst of great greenish and gleaming flames, disappearing little by little in their purifying veil .... your arms, dripping of blood ..... I clearly saw it .... " Varys remained skeptical about this mystical declaration from this woman from Asshai. Melisandre greets him with a slight bow and walks away again, leaving the master spy alone with his reflections. But as Melisandre comes around the corner, she notices Arya, standing up alone in a corner, giving her a look of very heavy judgment. The priestess does not pay any more attention and continues her way. ********** Daenerys did not stay long in Dragonstone, because after having deposited Jorah and Bran safely with the others at the fortress, the queen had flown again on her powerful dragon, in spite of the insistent reluctance of her advisers. Too worried about Jon's and Rhaegal's already protracted disappearance, Daenerys had left for Winterfell. Sitting on Drogon's back, she now flies over the snowy moors and sees Winterfell in the distance, now reduced to the state of an empty and silent city. No more traces of the white walkers or their army, which is not for reassured Daenerys. Did they continue their way south? Very probable. Daenerys and Drogon move away from Winterfell and still fly over the moors looking for the slightest sign of life. A little further, both discover the charred remains of Rhaegal's body in the snow. Drogon utters a sad roar as the dragon queen's heart breaks and her face twitches in pain. The loss of another of her children overwhelms her, but also reinforces her anger and determination to destroy the Night King and his creatures. But from Jon, no traces. Suddenly, something shining in the snow catches Daenerys' eye and she immediately steps down from her dragon to see what it is. Her heart is torn. It's Long Claw, Jon's sword, half buried in the snow. Recovering the sword in her hands, Daenerys feels her lips tremble. _ "JON! JOOOON!" she screamed insistently around her, hoping for some sort of response, but only the icy north wind was heard. The sword huddles against her chest, the young queen can only let a tear appaear in her cheek, fearing that the worst happened to Jon. As she gets ready to fly again to continue the search, Daenerys holds Drogon up and raises an eyebrow. A little further, a lonely rider approaches and seems to wave to her. He wears golden armor and stops a good distance from the dragon (this is the messenger sent by Harry Strickland). Barely stopped, the rider begins to speak in a loud voice in order to be heard. _ "The king in the north Jon Snow is our prisoner! If you try to follow us, he will die! And if ....." _ "Dracarys ...." simply answers Daenerys, darkened. The rider does not have time to finish his sentence as Drogon's powerful flaming covers him completely and reduces him to ashes in just a few seconds. Anger appears on the face of the young queen, but also fear. Knowing where Jon is now, Daenerys thinks. She can not take the risk of attacking Jon's captors without putting him at risk. Reluctantly, Daenerys flew away with Drogon to return to Dragonstone as soon as possible to warn others. ********** At King's Landing, Cersei still reigns with an iron fist over the capital, most of whose inhabitants now seem to be totally submissive to her. The tyrannical queen is in her royal apartments, sharing her bed with her new lover, Euron Greyjoy, who does not hesitate to enjoy this intimate moment. Cersei can not help but show a smile more than delighted, but Euron suspects that it is not because of him. _ "What makes you smile so much, my queen?" he asks, while continuing his work and filing hickeys in Cersei's neck. _ "News from the small birds of Qyburn. Winterfell has fallen, the armies of this little Targaryen whore and this bastard from the north have been practically wiped out .... and the height of happiness: that bastard in question, Jon Snow, was captured and is on the way to the capital." Euron seems at first astonished, but shares the sadistic pleasure of the Queen Lannister. While continuing his work, Cersei diverts her face slightly, replacing her insurance with a slight hint of fear. Indeed, earlier in an meeting with Qyburn informing her of the fall of Winterfell, the latter also mentioned disturbing rumors about a certain army of dead men ravaging everything on its path and heading south. ************ At Dragonstone, Missandei isolated herself on the beach, remaining silent and contemplating the sea with her closed face. The vision of Grey Worm changed into a wight does not stop haunting her. Ser Jorah arrives at her side, and noting the surprise that dominates her. _ "He was a brave soldier ...." said the knight Andal with sincerity "... and a most faithful friend." _"He had told me ... that I would see Naath again, that he would take me there and take care of me ..." the servant replied, biting her lip and not being able to stop the tears from running. Jorah gently hugs her to comfort her. _ "And you will see Naath .... That's what he wanted ... So stay alive, for him ... our queen will ensure that his sacrifice was not vain, I promise." _"I know, I have every confidence in our queen." said Missandei, thanking her friend for these words. The recognizable roar of a dragon echoes in the sky and it is with relief that Jorah and Missandei observe the imposing form of Drogon appearing in the sky. The arrival of the dragon also alerts Tyrion, Varys, Sansa and Arya who descend the stone stairs out of the fortress to go to the beach, while the mighty dragon lands heavily on the sand. Jorah and Missandei come to meet Daenerys as she comes down from her dragon, but they quickly disappoint when they see the queen's worried face. Tyrion, Varys, Sansa and Arya also notice him as they approach. _ "My queen, what has happened?" Tyrion asks. _ "Where is Jon?" Arya asks in turn. Daenerys takes a few seconds to answer and reveals, in the eyes of all, the sword Long Claw in her hands. _"He is prisoner of the Golden Company and they are taking him to King's Landing right now and threatened to kill him if we try anything to free him." This news has the effect of an electroshock for all, especially Sansa and Arya. Jorah, having been a member of the golden company, recognizes the trick of his captain, Harry Strickland. _"We can not leave Jon in the hands of Cersei, she'll kill him for sure." worries Sansa. _"Let's see Bran, maybe he'll have an idea." suggests Arya, who without waiting for the opinion of others, begins to head towards the entrance of the caverns under Dragonstone. Daenerys and Sansa follow her. ******** Since arriving at Dragonstone, Bran has asked to be brought into the dark caves under the island, and has not moved since. The young man in a chair remains alone, in the light of the few torches placed in the corners to offer light, and contemplates with his neutral air the cave paintings of the Children of the Forest adorning the walls of the cave. In particular, his gaze seems to linger on the fresco depicting the white walkers, and especially the Night King. Not long ago, Bran had another vision. The army of the undead, greater than ever and accompanied by the terrible winter storm, continues to advance relentlessly, leaving behind other fortifications in the state of silent ruins and enlarging its ranks with the occupants of these strongholds now in the service of their terrible king. The arrival of Daenerys, Arya and Sansa does not even surprise the young man who turns his eyes even before the first of them cross the entrance. _ "Bran ...." begins Arya, before being interrupted by the immediate response of the three-eyed raven. _ "I know ....." he said "... Jon was taken prisoner and he is taken to King's Landing." The three women remain somewhat surprised. Although having already seen Bran demonstrating his curious "power", it was always surprising to see. The young man does not stop there and continues. _ "The army of the dead has crossed the Neck and approaches the passage of the Twins ..... We must go to King's Landing without further delay." he then glances at Arya "... you have to free Jon, he is our only hope."

#game of thrones #A Song of Ice and Fire #fanfiction #deviation #daenerys targaryen #jon snow #white walkers #dragons

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46ten · 6 years

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Henry Knox and Lucy Flucker Knox, part 2

Part 1 here, portraits of them here.

WARNING: this is not the entirety of the content of their letters - only a very small part. In posting these quotes, I run the risk of leaving the impression that their communication with each other is all melodramatic neediness (or beautiful heart-aching romance, OMMV). I assure that this is a minor component of their letters to each other, but the part that for reasons of 1) language, 2) social conventions, 3) marriage dynamics, interest me the most on this blog.

In reading a few other summaries of the character of Lucy Flucker Knox, there's a pretty consistent criticism that she's overly emotional - overwrought, anxious, needy. Accusations of this type happen frequently enough with women of the 18th century that I question whether this is an accurate description of individual women, or whether women felt free, or rather were encouraged, to express themselves in such ways as part of the sensibility culture. We're bound to a significant degree by social constraints and expectations in our own culture (think the “Cool Girl" trope).

It begins to wear me out to read of upperclass 18th century white women described as, “intelligent,” as though that would be a shocking thing. These women were educated and typically well-read. The fate of this education was to be a worthy companion to a wealthy man (including assisting him with his career in all the ways that could be meant), manage his household, rear proper and dutiful children, and serve the kingdom/republic through the first three. But they were expected to be smart.

Complaining about letters just seems to be a thing. Which is better for making your wife feel guilty about NOT writing you: AH’s “I was extremely disappointed, My Dear Eliza, that the Mondays post did not bring me a letter from you. You used to keep your promises better. And you know that I should be anxious to hear of your health. If the succeeding post does not rectify the omission of the former I shall be dissatisfied and pained” OR HK’s “I am unhappy that I do not hear from you. Post arrives after post and no letters from her I love to distraction. I have made so many conjectures upon this subject that I am weary of them and shall not give myself the trouble to write them to you.”

The Knoxes were spending ALOT of time apart, and when one considers that they were still in the newlywed phase when war began for them, and only married three years (and much of that time spent apart) by the summer of 1777, I think it’s natural for Lucy to wonder if Henry’s affection/passion for her has faded, especially as she recounts that she’s heard of other wives who are with their husbands for the military campaigns, and yet Henry seems to never request for her to be near (largely because of deprivations that the other wives have experienced that he chooses not to write to her about for fear she’ll find it upsetting). This was compounded by the loss of her own family.

There are so many great phrases in these letters. Lucy: “I imagine by this time you have almost forgot my very looks and, if perchance my name is mentioned, you cry what have we to do with women...why should I wish for his company who is indifferent, whether he lives at four hundred miles distance or not.” And Henry: “I have in every former Letter express'd the true genuine feelings of my heart in the most tender expressions of which I was capable.” Here’s a man engaged in Important Things (military matters) and clearly exasperated, but his reaction is not to rebuke her but to remind her that there is no more important matter to him than her. [See also my old post about manhood that has links to other posts about sensibility and emotional expressiveness. It’s hard to exaggerate the importance of being considered a “good husband” as a sign of one’s manhood and masculinity in this society.]

BTW. his convincing her of his “ardency” later yields four kids in four years.

ca Jan1777 Lucy Knox to Henry Knox I am sick at heart, low spirited and almost indifferent whether I live or die. Had I no friends I suppose I should not take it so hard, but when I reflect that I have a father and a mother, sisters and Brother, and yet am this poor neglected thing, I cannot bear it. As for you, I love you. I underwent almost every distress for the sake of being yours, and you forsake me. My poor dear father I must never see again. When I reflect upon his excessive tenderness for me when a child, upon the thousand times he has helped me and prayed god to make me the comfort of his age, I am half distressed and yet believe me, dear Harry, I cheerfully remained the best of partners and would do it again and again to live to be with you. But this you refuse me. I have been confined to my room almost a week, have been alone most time, and have given myself up to the Horror of the situation.

10Jan 1777 HK to LK Believe me my Love I live, move & exist only for you. In the greatest hurry and confusion of War, you are uppermost in my thoughts, my heart is yours altogether. My Country demands my poor pittance to endeavor to rescue her from Barbarity, Tyranny, & every misery consequent on an unlimited, uncheck'd power....My Lucy, I'm well asurr'd does not wish her Harry to be ignominiously inactive during this great contest, a Contest of Virtue with vice. My heart suffers pain, exquisite pain, in being separated from you. It sympathizes, feels & weeps with yours, & often pours forth a pious petition to the great author of all things to support & comfort you. Yes my Lucy our Love is I hope & perfectly believe mutual & will increase & in one degree to another untill time shall be swallowed upon eternity....

6March1777 HK to LK ...I knew not untill now (shall I call it weakness) how dear you were to me and how necessary to my happiness.

18March1777 LK to HK It greaves me to think you are embarked in a cause so wretchedly managed. Farewell my dearest hope....Remember the sweet hours you have passed with [your Lucy], remember the thousand proofs of affection we have mutually received, and also remember that she loves you truly, sacredly.

23 Aug1777, LK to HK ......When I seriously reflect that I have lost my father, Mother, Brother and Sisters, entirely lost them, I am half distracted. True, I cheerfully resigned them for one far dearer to me than all of them, but I am totally deprived of him. I have not seen him for almost six months, and he writes me without pointing at any method by which I may ever expect to see him again. ‘Tis hard, my Harry, indeed it is. I love you with the tenderest the purest affection. I would undergo any hardship to be near you and you will not let me. Suppose this campaign should be, like the last, carried into the winter. Do you intend not to see me in all that time? Tell me dear what your plan is.... I am more distressed from the hot weather than any other fears. You grant you may not go farther southward; if you should I positively will come too…

I love you with a love as true and as ever entered the human heart, but from a difference of my own merit, I sometimes fear you will love me less – after being so long from me – if you should, may my life end before I know it – that I may die thinking you wholly mine.

18Sept1777 LK to HK I omited writing until this morning in hopes to have received something from you by the post, but to my great disappointment, I had not a line....I would write more had I time, but you have no reason to complain as in the last fortnight I have forwarded six or seven letters.

6Oct1777 HK to LK I expect the post will arrive this day by which I shall have the happiness of hearing from my dear Girl.

15Oct1777 HK to LK I have received your short Letter for Doctor Lulling, but am extremely sorry to observe that two posts have arrived here by whom I have not received a single Line. It is impossible that my Lucy should have known of the circumstances of the posts going from Boston, otherwise she would have written to the man who adores her. Nothing gives me half so much pain as not hearing from you by the same medium which other people hear from their friends in Boston. I mean not to complain, but hope you will not give me the reason for [it in] the future.

29Oct1777 HK to LK I am unhappy that I do not hear from you. Post arrives after post and no letters from her I love to distraction. I have made so many conjectures upon this subject that I am weary of them and shall not give myself the trouble to write them to you.

3Nov1777 HK to LK I have but ten minutes to write to her whom I love with all the power and faculties of my soul. ...I have received no Letter from you Since the 3rd ultimo altho I have written regularly by the [post] and as often by private hands as was in my power. Write me the reason of all this my Lucy.

6Nov1777 LK to HK My All in life, I wish to write my Harry a very long letter by this post, but it is not in my power. I was last evening [seized\ with that afflicting pain at my stomach...You again in this letter of the 22nd of October, acuse me of neglecting to write by three posts, and impute it to please or negligence. My pleasures, God knows, are very few, and neglecting you is a thing I never shall be guilty of. The reason of my not writing by these posts was that they brought no Letters from the army. I imagine by this time you have almost forgot my very looks and, if perchance my name is mentioned, you cry what have we to do with women. Out of the last sixteen months we have not been six weeks together, and it is now eight months since we parted, a circumstance which I dare say you never think of or you would some times mention it in your letters. But alas, what a change from the happy days I have seen. Begone my foolish tears, why should I wish for his company who is indifferent, whether he lives at four hundred miles distance or not. We have a report that Genl Howe has met the fate of Genl Burgoine. If that is true, do you think you can content yourself to return to my arms. If you can, may god almighty soon place you there is the prayer of your unhappy wife.

7Nov1777 HK to LK The happiness your Last letter for the 25th Ultimo gave me was almost infinite, after not having had a line from you for a month. Did you know what pleasure and satisfaction Your Letters did me, you would spend much of Your time in writing and send them when you had opportunity. That kind providence which brought us together did not do it before our souls were previously form'd for our mutual happiness. ...I bless the day which heaven made You mine and I hope that providence which brought us together will give me an opportunity by a long connection of convincing you with a pure ardent affection how much I love and esteem You.

25Nov1777 HK to LK (he's finally gotten her 6Nov letter) I am unhappy to the last degree that you should suppose in the least that my affection for you is diminished. My God knows how much I suffer for Your sake, how much anxiety I go thro. This you may rely upon my dearest Love that I have no other affection on earth that bears the least Competition with that I have for you, that my being in the service is part of that affection. I have said so much on this subject of my being in the army that it is impossible I should add any thing further on the subject. I am yours wholly and entirely, and Wish to have no other Love. The greatest happiness I have is the Contemplation of when I shall enjoy in the [illegible] of my lovely Lucy. Be assur'd, my dearest Girl, that no earthly object shall ever separate me from you after this matter shall be once happily settled. I shall by the Grace and permission of God see you this Winter when I shall endeavor to convince you with all my ardency, I am your affectionate Harry.

2Dec1777 HK to LK ...I have in every former Letter express'd the true genuine feelings of my heart in the most tender expressions of which I was capable...In short, my Lucy, no man on earth separated from all that he holds Dear on earth has ever suffered more than I have suffered in being absent from you whom I hold dearer than every other object. I have told you this so often and with all the sincerity which God ever infused into the human heart. I am unhappy at the Contents of your Letter and am very sorry to say that unhappiness will still lay [with] me until heaven shall bless me with your society....[The Truth that he will call upon God to judge] is that there was never a purer and more ardent affection than what I profess for you, and that I carry this delicacy of affection so far as to be indifferent indeed to all the rest of your sex, even to a degree not justifiable by good manners. I wish you my dearest Love to reflect seriously on what I have written and believe it as seriously as part of the Gospel of Jesus Christ. But however much you have pained me I should be extremely unhappy to give you the least pain, but in one moment of inadvertence you have written [words] which will long be the source of unhappiness to me.

Quotes from The Revolutionary War Lives and Letters of Lucy and Henry Knox by Phillip Hamilton

#Henry Knox #Lucy Flucker Knox #18th century marriage #18th century letters #letters #marriage

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sage-nebula · 7 years

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To be frank, the only thing that scares me about a Vanderwood route is that they might make Saeyoung more obnoxious or exaggerate his negative character traits in order to make Vanderwood look good (Like Zen in Jumin's route and Jumin in Jaehee's route)

I mean, knowing Cheritz and their writing, that’s not outside the realm of possibility. However, I don’t think it’s needed, particularly since Vanderwood taking care of Saeyoung the way he does (and indeed, as I realized tonight, playing a rather big role in developing Saeyoung’s view of his life as an agent, albeit that’s not a very positive thing, but it’s something they both need to heal from) is one of the things that adds a sympathetic side to his character.

What I mean by that is, Vanderwood and Saeyoung have been together for a long time. I realized tonight when I double-checked that there’s actually a good possibility that it could have been longer than four years. I think I assumed they met when Saeyoung was eighteen because Vanderwood mentions that Saeyoung was already in university. However:

Saeyoung seems to have been out of university for some time by the start of the game, and he’s twenty-two. Twenty-two is when most people are finishing up their senior year. For Saeyoung to already have his degree (and from an Ivy League, no less!!), that means that he probably graduated early . . . which would mean that he entered university earlier than most as well.

Saeyoung is a literal genius, which backs up point one.

So it’s possible that Saeyoung was even younger when they met, particularly since Vanderwood says that he was a new agent when he was assigned to be Saeyoung’s manager. (He says, specifically, “a new agent, too,” meaning “also,” which would imply that this is when Saeyoung started . . . but Saeyoung left for the agency when he was twelve. I highly doubt he entered university when he was twelve (they might have bumped him up to high school, though), so perhaps they met when Saeyoung was around sixteen? I’m not sure.) This is relevant, because it means that even though Saeyoung has considered V to be his father ever since he agreed to leave for the agency, it’s Vanderwood that has actually been physically present to look after him.

And this is a big deal, because we know---we see---that Vanderwood really does take care of him, and feels responsibility for him. All these years later, Vanderwood still remembers that Saeyoung was sleeping less than three hours per night during his university days. He says that Saeyoung was “even worse” when he was “an OCD perfectionist” who completed all of his university coursework and his agency coursework while not sleeping hardly at all (and presumably not eating a lot, either). By saying that, Vanderwood is telling us (without spelling it out) that it bothered him to see Saeyoung, a teenager, so robotic and dedicated to his work that he wasn’t taking care of himself. Additionally, he was paying close enough attention to know Saeyoung’s hobbies (“he always read a lot”), and enough attention to pinpoint exactly when Saeyoung started to loosen up (when he received the picture book). He didn’t just manage Saeyoung’s work; he also paid attention to Saeyoung as a person.

And we see this in the present day. Vanderwood cuts Saeyoung’s hair. He might complain about it, but he still does clean Saeyoung’s house so that Saeyoung isn’t living among germs and filth. He feeds him, too; we know that Saeyoung tries to just live off Honey Buddha Chips and Ph.D Pepper (his depression meals), but Vanderwood flat out says that he feeds Saeyoung, which means that the rare times we see Saeyoung mention that he’s eating a burger or those fish-shaped breads, who do you think brought those to him? Vanderwood, no doubt. It was Vanderwood, doing his damnedest to make sure Saeyoung ate something at least halfway decent. And when Vanderwood makes an empty threat of throwing Saeyoung under the agency bus so that he can save himself, and Saeyoung says, “yeah, go ahead,” Vanderwood gets very upset and says, “Excuse me?!” The minute Saeyoung says something remotely suicidal, Vanderwood gets upset. He was making an empty threat, he was teasing, but Saeyoung responded with what sounded like suicidal seriousness and Vanderwood himself got seriously upset in .01 seconds flat. Even before it’s spelled out to us that Vanderwood doesn’t want to see Saeyoung die by him saying that it would “ruin his life” to see just that in Secret Ending 1, we see Vanderwood grow incredibly upset in Saeyoung’s Route when Saeyoung tells Vanderwood to go ahead, turn him in, and get him killed. The idea of Saeyoung dying is one that Vanderwood is not even remotely comfortable with, not even as a joke.

And it’s not just that. Though Vanderwood has to unleash tough love on Saeyoung and remind him of the very real and present danger they are in to try to get him to work, he is lenient with him. He tells Saeyoung to take a break while he (Vanderwood) makes coffee for him, despite how Saeyoung had already blown off an entire day’s worth of work. Right before Saeyoung leaves to go save MC, Vanderwood is on the phone with their boss, and he advocates on Saeyoung’s behalf, lying about Saeyoung having been sick, asking for at least one more day, et cetera. Though he does agree to take Saeyoung in for conditioning as soon as the mission is over (which he himself says is “real torture”), the way that he reminded their boss what a skilled agent Saeyoung is makes it sound an awful lot like he was opting for the torture /conditioning over death. Like, “he’ll be tortured and reprogrammed, but at least he won’t be dead.” Which is not great, obviously, but Vanderwood has also been pretty screwed by the agency. The philosophies that Vanderwood has helped drill into his head (not deserving of friends and family, agents are ticking time bombs, we can’t have people close to us or they’ll be caught in the blast radius, this job is filthy, et cetera) are ones that Vanderwood also applies to himself. He’s not just putting Saeyoung down by saying those things. He’s offering what is, in his mind, tough love, because he feels that, as agents, neither of them have the “luxury” of friends, family, et cetera. He believes that about himself, too. And on that note, he actually allows Saeyoung more of a luxury than what he has, given that he knows about RFA and has chosen to be Saeyoung’s secret keeper with regards to it, because he feels bad given that Saeyoung became an agent at such a young age. He knows that Saeyoung is happier (comparatively) with RFA, and so he keeps it a secret for Saeyoung’s sake.

What I’m trying to get at here is that, particularly given how little we know about Vanderwood, the amount to which he cares about and cares for Saeyoung is a very humanizing aspect of his character. It’s part of what makes him so sympathetic, so endearing. Whereas he could have just been a cold agency taskmaster who tortures Saeyoung and doesn’t give a damn about him (and in that way would be a two-dimensional antagonist a la Echo Girl or Sarah Choi), Vanderwood is instead someone who earnestly and sincerely cares about Saeyoung. He does have to act as an antagonist in Saeyoung’s Route, yes, but he’s a reluctant antagonist. The fact that he’s a reluctant antagonist is even spelled out when he flat out says, “Are you really going to make me the bad guy?” while trying to get Saeyoung to do his work. He doesn’t want to be rough with Saeyoung, and he certainly doesn’t want to hurt him. Hell, he’s been doing his level best to help this kid with severe chronic depression, anxiety, and C-PTSD for the entire duration of the time they’ve known each other. He cleans his house, feeds him halfway decent meals, tries to encourage him, is bothered when he doesn’t sleep, cuts his hair, immediately comes down hard on spoken suicidal ideation, does everything he can to keep Saeyoung alive in the Secret Endings, et cetera. He cares, he very clearly cares, and this is one of his most shining character traits.

And I point all of this out to say that they don’t need to twist or ruin Saeyoung’s character in order to make Vanderwood look sympathetic, because Vanderwood already looks sympathetic just given what we’ve seen of him in Saeyoung’s Route / the Secret Endings---and, to be honest, V’s Route as well, given that Saeyoung was able to call him out to the cabin and get him to help a lot, even though Vanderwood didn’t know any of these people and felt very locked out of the loop.

Vanderwood isn’t a likable character because he’s constantly hassled and harried by an annoying 707. Vanderwood is a likable character because he genuinely cares about and for someone who has no one else to take care of him. Saeyoung left for the agency when he was about twelve; he was a child. Vanderwood recognized how young he was (hell, that’s why Vanderwood was assigned to him), and felt for him. And if you think about it, Saeyoung is the closest Vanderwood has to friends or family. Vanderwood reminds Saeyoung over and over that, as agents, they are not allowed to have friends or family. He keeps quiet about Saeyoung with the RFA because he feels bad for him, having been an agent for so long, but given that Vanderwood does firmly believe in the “no friends or family” rule, we can rest assured that he’s not keeping quiet about any friends or family himself. This means that Saeyoung is the closest he has to either. And this means that portraying Saeyoung as some terrible person who only brings Vanderwood grief would severely diminish part of Vanderwood’s character, because we can see very plainly that he does genuinely care about Saeyoung, enough to say that it would ruin his life to see Saeyoung die, and that he enjoys bantering and snarking with him, and that Saeyoung is probably the closest thing to family that Vanderwood has (and definitely his only friend). Showing Saeyoung as an antagonist would run contrary to all of that. It would ruin what is probably the biggest likability point that Vanderwood has at the moment. Cheritz could do it, god knows they’ve proven they can be illogical before (and tbh they already kind of ruined their relationship in Another Story by fucking up why and when they met), but they’d have no reason to considering the fact that “Vanderwood really cares about Saeyoung” is one of the main reasons why fans have to like him at the moment.

So in all honesty, I’m not too worried about that. If anything, I feel that we’d just get to see a lot more of the hardships that Saeyoung has gone through in the agency. We’d get a much closer look at his depression (both in how he was as an “OCD perfectionist,” and how he is now on his worse days), and at how Vanderwood takes care of him. We’d probably also get backstory on the family and/or friends that Vanderwood left behind when he became an agent, which is backstory that I would not mind learning.

All in all, I think more good than harm would come from this, though I guess we’d have to wait and see.

#therfasquad #vanderwood #mary vanderwood 3rd #saeyoung choi #choi saeyoung #god seven #707 EXTREME babysitting #meta #the-rfa-squad

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silvermalec · 7 years

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2x18

I still can’t actually wrap my head around the fact we really got this episode ?? there are so many fantastic things in 2x18 regarding malec and I’m sorry but I gotta add ‘em all up because fUCk this really was amazing

- first off, we really got that scene. it so rarely ever happens that writers listen to their fanbase to such a degree, and it’s so wonderful to see that they actually tried to fix their mistakes by firstly giving us ten. t e n . minutes of malec content, and of course most importantly giving us the scene of malec’s first time. they did fuck up, but they’re fixing what they did and they’re doing that in the most amazing way, which personally I am very grateful for

- another thing concerning the writers is that after this episode I am one hundred percent convinced that they’re trying their hardest to truly be careful with magnus’ and alec’s relationship: skipping the extremely frustrating problems they had in the books and replacing that by an actually very beautiful and well thought out storyline. this is the best way they could go around giving malec a ‘break’ and I really think that they, just as much as we do, want them to be okay and from that I’m convinced that they’ll make sure that they come out of this, together and stronger

-- so just a quick thank you to the writers for doing such a good job on this episode, listening to what their fans have to say and wanting to fix their wrongs from the past

- right, to the actual episode, I’m starting with the first flashback, which for some reason felt so light and soft ?? alec full on without hesitation denied magnus’ invite for breakfast, didn’t even want to sit next to him and most definitely didn’t want magnus to tell anyone that he slept over, but there was something about that little smile, the tiniest detail you could notice, that kind of set their story from there on,

not forgetting the ‘I trust you’, the ‘trust makes you do strange things’ and the look they shared in between and after those moments. season one, even though filled with moments of hesitation, frustration and aggitation for the both of them, also has the most precious and soft moments. that in my opinion are such imporant things leading up to them actually getting together.

- and then THE scene, which fuck first off I gotta say was truthfully the most beautiful moment I have seen between them so far. in their relationship there have been so many iconic, groundbreaking moments that are all so amazing in their own way and contributed to the incredibly loving relationship they have, but this scene in particular was just amazing. from the start of this show I’ve loved matt and harry so incredibly much for bringing their characters to life and with that their relationship. I have always thought that they have the best chemistry, and honestly after this moment it’s set in stone for me. you could just without any effort at all recognise the sheer happiness on magnus’ and alec’s faces only from kissing each other and being able to give each other this experience, from the (might I add very amusing, but also extremely adorable) stumbling, all the way to the way they laughed into each other.

and the cat eye moment ?? also such an amazing scene and so soft it actually left my insides aching. showing his eyes to alec wasn’t exactly a voluntary choice from magnus’ side and I bet he was extremely nervous to see alec’s reaction, but man what happened after that was just grossly adorable. alec, probably much to magnus’ surprise, was fucking mesmerised by those eyes and the second magnus saw that grin breaking out on alec’s face, he probably felt so relieved. on top of that, for alec to say his eyes are beautiful, that he is beautiful, is just another thing that shows how wonderful these two are together and fuck man if I wasn’t before, now I’m actually convinced these two are soulmates

(not like I wasn’t before, because oh boy I definitely was, but you get my point)

- going on to the scene when magnus walks out from max’ room and after having seen how upset and scared alec got when he heard magnus couldn’t do anything to help, takes alec’s hands in an attempt to comfort him. such a simple moment that even without dialogue, speaks so many words.

and then the third flashback right after that, the morning after their first time. of course the sneak peek had already been released a few days before this episode, but seeing it again and this time the entire scene, held even more meaning because of everything that had come before that. the extremely soft good mornings, the fact that alexander lightwood cracked a joke, and after having seen his boyfriends upset face, quickly convinced him that he wasn’t going anywhere. (that’s a big jump from rejecting a ‘mean belgian waffle’ if you ask me).

then the moment where magnus just tries to kinda beat around alec’s question and the fact that he does mention it again later and gives alec his answer. (that by the way wasn’t even a single answer, but I’ll get to that in a minute) even though maybe the ‘the key to having no fears, having nothing to lose’ wasn’t exactly the answer alec was expecting, the way he holds his hand out to magnus right after once again is such a soft moment and speaks hundreds of words.

though it’s a bit upsetting to see alec pull away after that flashback, that small moment where he places his hand on magnus’ arm and keeps it there for just a moment, was so pure. alec and magnus know each other so incredibly well, even after having known each other for such a short period of time, and I think you can definitely see it in that moment. alec knows it’s for the best to give magnus the space that he probably at this point in time needs to think over things. even when not exactly happily together and with so many things going on, you simply can not deny that they love each other so much and really do try to be careful around each other and to make sure they’re okay.

- then the last moment, which I’m already gonna say, they did not break up !! that wasn’t them breaking up: that was magnus acknowledging the fact that they both needed space to think about things and some time alone to make important decisions that could seriously affect their future and their relationships with not only each other, but the downworld and the world of the shadowhunters. they are going through a rough patch, they really are and that’s upsetting, but an important thing to remember is that it wasn’t because of them. the whole situtation around them, with valentine and sebastian, but also the clave and even the seelies, makes things uncertain. it’s something that requires time for decisions to be made and like magnus said, those imporant decisions cannot be made fairly and purely for his people, if he mixes that up in his relationship with alec, and as sad as it is, his own happiness. (that actually hurt to write fuck)

despite all of that, they will be okay: they’ll find their way back to each other and if not this season, they for sure will in season three. up until this point they’ve always been thrown into situations together that led to one of them taking an important step in their relationship that allowed space for growth. this most definitely won’t be any different and though I feel like this might come back to bite me in the ass in a few weeks, I do have the feeling they’ll once again be thrown into some dangerous or uncertain situation and resolve things, because some people may not agree with me, but they truly are better off with each other, rather than without each other.

wrapping that last one up, I was absolutely sad during the last scene, but at the same time it was so incredibly beautiful, in a crushingly heartbreaking way. once again though they will be okay, because hey ! it’s alec and magnus and fuck man the way that the writers have written them and their development proves that things between them are gonna be fine, they really will be.

-- in conclusion, this episode has completely destroyed me and left me a shaking, crying mess in the corner of my room, but every. single. moment. between them was absolutely, undeniably beautiful.

proving once again how fucking wonderful magnus and alec are, with and without each other and also showing another, deeper, side of their relationship that we finally got to see. so once again, I’m applauding matt and harry for their incredible, heartfelt performances and for really making this a reality in the best way possible. also bringing up the writers again and thanking them for this truly wonderful episode, @ sh writers, well fucking done

#malec #shadowhunters #malecspoilers

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prinanalogicality · 7 years

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My Love

ANGST. Friends, this is going to be seriously angsty. Please check out the tags before reading this, because there are some definite trigger warnings in this piece. I want all of you to be safe and not feel triggered or attacked, so check the tags to make sure you are all right before reading this. The topics touched on in this can really upset some people. I made myself cry a lot.

I have done light research on these topics, but I am not someone who knows everything. If there are any inconsistencies or anything that I say wrong, please, call me out. I want to be correct and do this topic justice, I will gladly fix anything. This will definitely be under a read more because it is angsty, but if someone is on mobile and is having a hard time accessing the fic, message me privately (not on anon, because I cannot get it to you if I do not know who you are and cannot message you back privately.)

Also, I broke my finger but here I am, dudes. It got hit really hard and dislocated, but I popped it back and I’m here to write some heavy angst. ;) It isn’t necessary, but I strongly recommend you listen to My Love by Sia if you read this. I wouldn’t consider this a song fic, because this wasn’t inspired by the song, but I was listening to the song and it really resonated with this idea. So, if you want to intensify your emotions, please listen to the song. I weaved it into the story because why not. XXX

Okay, last thing for me to say. This may sound strange to you all, but I do not want to refer to Anxiety or Morality as anything but those terms, unless they are pet names (Sunshine, An, Mo, beloved, love, etc.). Yes, they are humans in this, but until their proper names are released, I will continue to call them by their current labels. I hardly ever say Logic in place of Logan or Princey instead of Roman. I just like to have the proper terms is all, so, if the read seems strange at all, my apologies! ( @notallpotatoesarefrenchfries & @velocifoxy )

Summary: Human!Sides. All Anxiety wants is to grow old beside Roman, but it seems that fate has different plans in mind.

AO3 link here.

Pairing: Prinxiety. Angst, with light, small mentions of fluff. Mentioned logicality.

My love, leave yourself behind

Anxiety remembers the beginning of their relationship.

He and Roman were nothing but fireworks. Every touch, every shared look, every spoken word. Everything left sparks in the pit of his stomach and a tingle in his fingertips, making him crave more, always more. There was just something about the man that made Anxiety desperate for more adventures, more life.

More time.

Beat inside me, leave you blind

Anxiety never thought that he would enjoy life.

He always pictured himself as someone who worked to survive, lived to survived, did everything to simply survive, but not legitimately live. He didn’t truly start living his life until he met Roman, a whirlwind of excitement and passion that swept Anxiety, quite literally on several occasions, off of his feet.

Morality and Logan had introduced them. They were pursuing a relationship of their own, so, of course, they had to introduce their best friends to each other in turn. Logan and Roman had grown up together, and Morality and Anxiety had. Morality wanted nothing more than for his best friend to meet his boyfriend, and he had insisted Logan do the same.

So he did.

My love, you have found peace

Anxiety knew from the moment his eyes first landed on Roman that his heart didn’t stand a chance.

He was tall. Taller than Anxiety, that’s for sure. At least 6′, broad shoulders, jawline that could slice through diamonds. Dark brown hair to match dark brown eyes that glittered with mirth. Roman was the definition of perfection, like a Disney prince stepped off of a storybook page. His body was a bonus, but what really got to Anxiety was the brightness of his smile. He smiled at Anxiety like he was the light of his world, his sun, his moon, his stars, his entire universe. It was something Anxiety never knew he needed from someone until they met, something he thrived on.

You were searching for relief

Anxiety remembers lying beneath the stars with Roman.

It was their first date, one full of ice cream, laughter, and shy hand holding. Roman told Anxiety of how he reminded him of the stars in the sky. He said Anxiety’s eyes were a green that held gold within them that sparkled and twinkled like stars, and though he never held much of an interest in stars before, he picked up a book and learned constellations. He pointed them out to Anxiety, and Anxiety had never felt more alive than he did listening to Roman speak to him, their fingers intertwined.

You gave it all, gave into the call

Anxiety was filled with a brightness that he never knew before when he was with Roman. With Roman, he felt unstoppable. All of his inhibitions, all of his inner demons. They were silenced by his prince in shining armor, protecting him from the cruelties of himself and of the outside world. He guided Anxiety into the light, to a new world of contentment and excitement. It all made Anxiety actively want to seek out new experiences, because all he wanted to do was to do these things by Roman’s side.

You took a chance and you took a fall for us

It started with headaches.

Roman would take to napping on Anxiety’s couch, head on said boy’s lap, instead of going out. It concerned Anxiety to a degree, but Roman always insisted it was nothing to worry about. Just a simple headache, and a nap should be able to clear it right away.

That is, until it ended up being a repeated occurrence.

You came thoughtfully, loved me faithfully

Next came the forgetfulness.

If there is one thing Roman was, it was a hopeless romantic. He insisted on taking Anxiety to the most grandiose restaurant at least once a month (he wanted to more often, but Anxiety resisted Roman spending that much money on him), which was typically on the month anniversaries of their relationship. He constantly spoiled his lover with gifts such as flowers or stuffed animals, even the manner in which he spoke to Anxiety reflected his hopeless romanticism.

He forgot their one year anniversary.

That was what really tipped Anxiety off to the matter that there must be something wrong with his boyfriend. Roman would never, ever forget their one year anniversary under normal circumstances, and the fact that he would forget it did not madden Anxiety, it worried him.

Initially, Anxiety’s inner demons whispered that it was all because Roman had someone new. Roman must have been having headaches from being stressed over juggling two relationships, so he forgot their anniversary. That must be it. Roman was the perfect man to the eyes of many, several people would jump at the chance to pursue a relationship with him, even if he was meant to be monogamous with someone else. Anxiety supposed he wasn’t the type to live out a happily ever after.

You taught me honor, you did it for me

Their first real fight tore Anxiety apart.

He accused Roman of seeing someone else, and he had never seen such rage within his boyfriend. Roman lashed out, throwing his mug of tea onto the ground and scolding Anxiety for ever thinking of such an outlandish accusation. It was a night of raised voices, tears, and slammed doors only to be met with impatient knocking. It took several hours for both parties to calm down enough to talk things through, and once they did, Anxiety saw Roman cry for the first time.

He wept. He begged Anxiety for his forgiveness, because he didn’t even know what was going on in his life anymore. He was forgetting meals, dates, things to buy at the grocery store. It was eating him up that he forgot the most important day for him and Anxiety, and Anxiety instantly felt an intense guilt for ever pushing his prince to the mess he was in that instance.

They ended up spending their anniversary night in Roman’s bed, curled up under the covers together, boxes of tissues at the ready as they released their emotions through binge watching sad videos on YouTube.

Today you will sleep away, you will wait for me, my love

Next came the vision loss. Anxiety had been at home, curled up on his sofa in a blanket burrito and rereading the first Harry Potter novel when he had received a panicked phone call from Roman, who was alarmed because he could barely see out of his left eye.

Anxiety’s book was immediately forgotten as he had gone to Roman’s apartment, relieved that his boyfriend had been smart enough to wait for Anxiety to come instead of rushing to Anxiety’s apartment. Roman was crying, again, hand covering his left eye and uncovering, asking no one in particular why there was hardly a difference.

Now I am strong, you gave me all

Anxiety had decided that enough was enough. He helped Roman into his car and drove him to the hospital, signed him in to be seen, and sat on Roman’s lap, because Roman had wanted to hold him close and make sure that this was real, that this was happening. Anxiety could feel the eyes of others in the waiting room, staring at a crying boy hugging another like his life depended on it, but for once, Anxiety didn’t care that they were being judged.

He flipped them all off and embraced his boyfriend.

You gave all you had,

Roman had been called back to be seen, and from the get-go, Anxiety could tell that something was wrong. The doctor would not tell them anything, nothing at all when Roman described his symptoms with Anxiety weighing in to agree and go into deeper detail. All the doctor did was order a CT scan and that was that.

It terrified Anxiety that the doctor wanted to look inside of Roman. Roman’s head, to be exact. That was all the doctor divulged before exiting, sparing Anxiety a sympathetic glance. Anxiety didn’t want a sympathetic glance. He wanted to be told that all Roman had was a common cold and all he needed was antibiotics and he would be fine in a few days.

The waiting was agonizing. Waiting for the nurse to take Roman to his CT scan, waiting for her to bring him back once they had gone, waiting for the results. It was awful, but Anxiety had to be strong. He was there for Roman, they were sharing a small hospital bed and Roman was clinging onto Anxiety as his rock, as the one who would make him feel better. He had to be strong and supportive as Roman murmured his fears, his worries. It felt strange, the roles being switched. But Anxiety had learned from the best how to be supportive.

And now I am whole

The waiting was painful, but nothing hurt more than the doctor’s news.

Roman had two masses in his brain.

My love, leave yourself behind, beat inside me, leave you blind

The news had hurt, the news was downright torment, but all it did was make Anxiety feel numb. Roman had been clinging onto him, asking about how he was supposed to tell his friends, how was he to tell Logan, Morality, how was he to tell his family, how was he to tell his mother. How was he to tell his mother that her son, her only child, was dying.

Anxiety had listened to it all. He had been silent, taking in Roman’s words, cherishing the moments they had together. Roman’s fingers had been gripping his hips probably hard enough to bruise, but Anxiety didn’t care. Roman was there with him, it was Roman who was holding him, the man he has always wanted nothing more than to live with forever.

My love, look what you can do, I am mending, I’ll be with you

Out of everything Roman had said while rambling about his fears, one phrase stuck out to Anxiety.

“I wanted to marry you.”

That was what broke him. Anxiety felt heat behind his eyes and behind his nose, his throat was closing up. His palms were itchy, his neck was itchy, his lungs were burning with the need for air, but all he could do was tremble in his love’s arms, sobs wracking his body. He had listened as Roman’s tone of voice changed, how his words had shifted to speak positives, of how much he adores Anxiety, how much he loves him, what he loves about him, how much he means to him. Roman was the one that was potentially dying and here he was, comforting Anxiety again.

Anxiety was so in love that it hurt.

You took my hand, added a plan

Anxiety hadn’t expected the news to come back so negatively, but, more than anything, he hadn’t expected the hospital to give the way they did.

Roman had been admitted into the hospital. In order to determine the specifics of his conditions and to pinpoint the necessary treatments, the doctor had him admitted, and unfortunately, Anxiety had to go home sometime. He had to gather things for Roman - clean underwear, phone charger, etc. He also had to gather things for himself, as there was no way he was going to leave Roman’s side during this. He received a text to grab Roman’s coat that was hanging up by the front door, the brown one, and he was specifically instructed to not check the pockets. It had been a strange request, but one Anxiety followed through with anyhow.

Upon his return, he hadn’t expected Roman’s room to have rose petals leading up to the door. He hadn’t expected to enter the room to find more flowers, potted plants adorned around the room. It was a lovely sight, save for the tired form of his boyfriend on the hospital bed. He looked winded, like he had been running around - to which Anxiety would not doubt it. Roman was always a whirlwind of activity and energy.

You gave me your heart, I asked you to dance with me

Roman hadn’t said a word. All he did was rise, gently take the items from Anxiety’s hands, set them aside. He had pulled a small black velvet box from the pocket of his coat, and all Anxiety felt was that spark in his stomach, the tingling in his fingertips.

“I spoke with some of the nurses. This is pretty last minute, obviously, but hey, who knows how long we have?” Roman’s voice had been so soft, so tender. A stark contrast from his normal excitable tone. “You know, the staff here is fantastic. They ordered all of these flowers for us, I helped them with arranging them. Kinda tired me out, believe it or not.” He had let out a breathy laugh, slowly moving to kneel down onto one knee. Anxiety’s heart was racing so quickly that he could practically feel his blood thrumming through his body. “We called up our friends, closest friends, I mean. Logan and Morality, obviously. And my parents, yours. Our parents are calling up other close relatives to bring them in as well. They aren’t sure of why, but I told them it was an emergency. They’re on their way.” Roman slowly opens the box, presenting it to Anxiety, revealing a glistening black ring with several white diamonds within the band. It was show-stoppingly beautiful. “I’ve been saving up since I was a child to be able to afford the perfect wedding ring for my beloved. I hope this is sufficient.” He lets out another breathy laugh, his soft gaze meeting Anxiety’s. “This won’t be the perfect wedding that I always imagined, I know. I have only wanted the best for you, for us, but it seems that we may not be able to have that. But, despite that, it would be an incredible honor if you, Anxiety Thomas Sanders, would be so kind as to marry an old sap like me. Here, right now, today, while I can still dance with you. In this room, with those important to us, because I want to be yours and I want you to be mine for all eternity, no matter how long I’m still here. Will you?”

You loved honestly, gave what you could release

Anxiety had been unsure of when he had started crying, but at some point he had. No words needed to be said. He had simply dropped to his knees and held his hand out for Roman to slip the ring onto his finger. Roman’s bright smile lit up the entire room, filling Anxiety with the warmth that he has become addicted to.

Morality and Logan were the first to arrive. They found them, both still sat on the floor, clinging to one another for dear life.

I know in peace you’ll go, I hope relief is yours

It took about three hours for the rest of the desired family members to file in. Even in the current circumstances, Roman had been smiling and laughing, sat on his hospital bed with Anxiety snuggled close beside him. He looked so bright, so joyous, and Anxiety was angry.

Angry with the world for doing something like this to someone so great. Roman was a light to the world, someone who deserved so much life, but fate is cruel. Fate wanted to take away the happiness in Anxiety’s life.

Despite that, though, he couldn’t feel completely drained. The ring on his finger gave him hope, more hope than he could conjure up alone.

Now I am strong, you gave me all

The ceremony was beautiful.

The hospital staff had come together to bring in a priest to marry them. It was astounding, to Anxiety, how complete strangers could band together to do so much for people they do not even know. It gave Anxiety hope for the world.

Something that will always be ingrained into his memories is the look on Roman’s face when Anxiety had stepped around the corner to venture into the room, wearing a pair of ripped skinny jeans and one of Roman’s hoodies that was baggy on his frame. He had smiled more brightly than ever, it shone through the room like sunlight. It reminded Anxiety of why he fell in love with him.

You gave all you had, and now I am whole

Their kiss was the most intense, most beautifully stunning fireworks production Anxiety could imagine.

My love, beat inside me, my love

Anxiety was there for it all.

He sat beside his husband’s bed or with him on it, day by day, as Roman’s condition deteriorated through the months.

Many cases are able to go home, but with how quickly Roman’s infliction was spreading, he was kept at the hospital.

Anxiety was there when Roman cried every time he discovered more of his hair falling out. Anxiety was there when Roman would let out the contents of his stomach into the waste bin. Anxiety was there when Roman finally lost sight in both of his eyes. Anxiety was there when Roman cried, wishing he could see the stars in his love’s eyes again.

My love, leave yourself behind

The nights were hard. Anxiety couldn’t sleep, he hardly would even if he had the opportunity to. He wanted to be awake as much as possible, to revel in the presence of his husband while he still could.

He would murmur to him at night. He would tell Roman that he is so strong, but sometimes, it is stronger to let go. He would tell Roman of how he knows their love is strong, that no matter what happens, Roman will live on within him. No matter where they are, Anxiety is in Roman, and Roman is in Anxiety.

They were together for one year, seven months, sixteen days, five hours.

They were married for four months, three days, nine hours.

Beat inside me,

Anxiety was there when Roman held his hand. Anxiety was there when Roman told him he loved him. Anxiety was there when Roman offered him one last smile, one last goodbye.

Anxiety was there when Roman finally let go.

I’ll be with you

His prince was gone.

Anxiety still wears his wedding ring.

#prinxiety #prinxiety angst #prinxiety fluff #tw #tw cancer #tw brain tumors #tw character death #tw intense feelings #my finger hurts #my heart hurts #i need a nap #my fics #mine #tears #sigh

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lilac-milk-moon · 5 years

Text

You Need a Work Exit Strategy

How will you know when the time has come to quit your full-time job?

One day, you will stop working at your 9:00 to 5:00. I know this is blunt, but you’ll either die unexpectedly or you’ll choose to retire. I encourage you to have proper estate planning and life insurance coverage in place, to be prepared for the former event. You should also prepare for the latter. Whether you’re saving for FIRE (Financial Independence, Retire Early), traditional retirement, or semi-retirement, the goal is to be prepared to leave your job before your health requires you to.

But how will you know when it’s time to take the leap? Have you considered the consequences of not making the move, once you’re financially able to?

Why bother planning?

Americans are not good at preparing for the future.

We’re bad at actually saving money

According to the Economic Policy Institute…

Half of American families have zero or nearly-zero retirement account savings.

I recently featured a post from my friend Brian at Debt Discipline, who shared that he used to work 75 hours per week — and he did not save any of it. Brian’s story has a happy ending, but working hard yet not saving is the clear pattern in our society.

If you want to be prepared for retirement, other future financial goals, you will need to be intentional. The data clearly shows that Americans are not haphazardly wandering into appropriate financial preparation.

Time is precious

I don’t work 75 hours per week, and I feel like my life is a blur from Monday to Friday when I’m at my office job. When you’re bored or doing repetitive work, it’s unpleasant, and it’s easier to just disengage mentally. I can focus on my lunch break, my podcasts on my commute, or the work at hand and the days sneak past me. Months and years fly by and, frankly, I hardly notice.

The remaining time we have to live our lives is our most scarce asset. So, even though I am saving for the future, it’s upsetting to realize that time is slipping through my fingertips. This may sound dramatic, but the full-time work grind reminds me of the dementors in Harry Potter, consuming our life force — time and happiness. (I was not a Harry Potter reader growing up, so, apologies if that’s not a perfect metaphor.)

Working is necessary and helpful. But don’t trade your time to your employer without counting the costs.

We’re bad at decision-making and the world is complicated

The human brain is vulnerable to dozens of heuristics and decision-making biases that affect our choices.

Plus, the world is complex and choosing the best option is difficult when there’s incomplete information — and there almost always is. Professional poker player Annie Duke’s book Thinking in Bets has become a popular resource in the personal finance community. There are a lot of parallels between poker, investing, and decision-making in general.

In the book, Duke says “Poker is a game of incomplete information. It is a game of decision-making under conditions of uncertainty over time. (Not coincidentally, that is close to the definition of game theory). Valuable information remains hidden. There is also an element of luck in any outcome. You could make the best possible decision at every point and still lose the hand, because you don’t know what new cards will be dealt and revealed. Once the game is finished and you try to learn from the results, separating the quality of your decisions from the influence of luck is difficult.”

Because of this incomplete information and uncertainty, retirement planning (and poker) will always be risky. But, remember, you’re also combatting the risk of retiring too late or not retiring at all.

There are steps you can take to manage these risks. Learn more about biases so you can intentionally minimize their effect. Consider a semi-retirement phase that gives you more flexibility for your income and retirement withdrawals. Diversify your investments and avoid single stocks.

But, at some point, it will be time to take the leap.

“Do it if you’re gonna do it!”

The SR Wife and I like to watch HGTV real estate shows occasionally. A show we’ve watched a few times, Home Town, is set in a small Mississippi community.

In one scene, Ben, half of the husband-wife home renovation duo, is preparing to tear down a front porch support pole with a rope connected to his pickup truck. After a moment of hesitation, Erin (Ben’s wife) tells him (heavy Mississippi accent included) “Do it if you’re gonna do it!”

We live in the south too, so I feel qualified to poke fun at the southern accents.

“Do it if you’re gonna do it” has become an oft-repeated mantra in our home — typically after hesitation to get off the couch and clean up the dinner dishes or go to the gym.

In the same vein, recall Nike’s “Just do it slogan.” Or the strangely viral video of Shia LaBeouf shouting.

via GIPHY

When the time comes, take these slogans to heart. Get out of there! Summon your courage and “do it if you’re gonna do it!”

How?

We’ve covered that you need a plan so that you can execute it at the right time. The planning will be challenging, and the execution will require courage.

But how will you know when you’re adequately prepared or what steps you need to take to get there?

Identify your purpose

Take the time now to define your future. As Stephen Covey said, “Begin with the end in mind.” That’s the only way you’ll know what steps to take along the way.

What would you do if you didn’t need the income from your full-time job?

Outline the steps to get there

Next, what would you have to do to achieve your dream future? There may be several steps required, and that’s okay — you just need to get started.

Consider using the SMART goal format. Set goals that are Specific, Measurable, Actionable, Realistic, and Time-based.

For example, “become a community college professor” (one of my own ambitions) isn’t a good SMART goal. The timeline isn’t clear enough. “Complete my master’s degree in 2020” is a SMART goal, though, and it’s one of the steps I need to take to put myself in a position to teach later in life.

Understand the math

There are a few tools you can use to understand your progress.

If you’d like to walk through your own financial numbers step-by-step, check out the free workbook I share with my newsletter subscribers. You can get access to it here!

A few other tools you may be interested in are the math the 4% safe withdrawal rate and breaking down retirement into 2 stages — an initial semi-retirement phase followed by a full-time retirement phase.

Don’t look back

Once you have your goals in place, pursue them with a sense of urgency. Go after them relentlessly.

Seriously, just do it. Take the steps to move towards your dreams for your future.

Trust your plan. After your years of work and preparation, when the time finally does come to leave your job, do it with confidence. You’ve been planning for this. You will be ready.

If you find that you have doubts as you approach your retirement, remember that it’s reversible. You can always un-retire. Seriously.

Part-time work is one of the major benefits of semi-retiring, for example. Give yourself the flexibility to make adjustments in your retirement if you need to financially or to maintain a feeling of productivity and mental or social engagement.

But, if you hate your corporate desk job, don’t waste extra years there in hesitation. Once you’re financially prepared to make the move… Do it if you’re gonna do it!

The post You Need a Work Exit Strategy appeared first on Semi-Retire Plan.

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junker-town · 7 years

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THIS WEEK IN SCHADENFREUDE, Alabama’s Iron Bowl loss reveals that the Playoff itself is just a conspiracy to stop the Tide

Your weekly sojourn through the most upset in college football internet runs through Tuscaloosa.

(It should be noted that the weekend’s actual most upset fans were at Tennessee, but this post is about games only.)

Alabama got dominated in the Iron Bowl, falling from No. 1 in the rankings, losing the SEC West to Auburn, and putting its College Football Playoff fate in jeopardy. It was the Tide’s first loss of the season and 20th in more than a decade of Nick Saban.

Let’s tour Bama Fan Internet and see how it responded.

The most ironclad conspiracy theories

Is the very existence of the Playoff part of a plot to ruin Alabama’s title hopes?

This thread at the Tide’s 247Sports message board answers the hard questions.

We need to Remember why the playoff was created.

It was created to stop Alabama. (Sec post 2011) The rest of the teams wanted Alabama to have to win two big games to win the championship. They also didn't want hot teams at the end of the season to miss a chance to neutralize Alabama with the awesome play late. It has worked two of the first three years of the playoff. It will not work this year if they let Alabama in. We will win both games. Mark it down.

It may well go even deeper than that. College football’s powers have been trying to stem the Tide ever since the Associated Press awarded them the national title before they lost the 1964 season’s Orange Bowl to Texas.

Is something deeper at play preventing Damien Harris from getting more carries?

One poster’s freshman daughter is friends with the Tide’s starting running back’s girlfriend, allegedly. And it seems like we’re headed for a break in the case.

im getting to the bottom of it hopefully

My daughter is a freshman at bama, she's become good friends with Damien Harris's gf, she sees him a couple of times a week at the sorority house and talks to him while he's there. Shes gonna ask him why he's been getting so few carries lately. Maybe he'll give an honest answer cause it makes no sense why he wasn't fed the ball against auburn and several other times throughout the year... stay tuned

Stay tuned.

Is Ohio State going to lose the Big Ten championship game on purpose to guarantee Wisconsin a Playoff spot in the name of conference solidarity, potentially changing Bama’s outlook for the No. 4 seed?

How important is it to the Big 10

To get a team into the playoffs? Would Ohio St. throw the game against Wisconsin to guarantee that spot in the playoffs? A lot of people still believe that Wisconsin laid down and allowed Ohio St. to steam roll them to get Ohio St. in. I know it sounds like quite the conspiracy, but...

I mean, who’s to say they’re not.

The most obvious suggestions to get better

Phase 1: Fire first-year offensive coordinator Brian Daboll, a five-time Super Bowl champion with the Patriots who leads the nation’s No. 12 scoring offense.

Brian Dabol needs to be fired .

This offense has gotten worse under him.

Phase 2:

Mac from Florida needs a job, bring him back!

Saban’s old offensive coordinator from Florida needs a job, bring him back....

The real problem is Alabama’s recruiting, which might drop off from No. 1 in the country this year to somewhere lower in the top 10.

With our recruiting lagging,

things don't look so well right now. I do believe that they need to re-evaluate this whole deal.

rtr

(The actual reason for Bama’s slower 2018 class is scholarship limits, fwiw.)

Actually, maybe the problem’s the QB, who was one play from a national championship as a true freshman the year prior before being outdueled by the NFL’s best rookie quarterback.

Bama will NEVER win a national championship with Jalen Hurts

Saban should have given Tua a shot in the 4th quarter to spark the offense. Another lost season for Bama. Disappointing.

Here’s a totally unrelated photograph I found:

Photo by Kevin C. Cox/Getty Images

The most comprehensive piece of advice

@AlabamaFTBL you have one game to win in any season and this was a massive loss. Guess @CoachDaboll needs replaced. @JalenHurts needs to sit. We need a QB, not a runningback. @NickSabanUofA may be out of magic. Seems we might need to make some changes.

— I R Foof (@I_R_Foof) November 26, 2017

The most passionate tweets sent to Bama’s offensive coordinator during the game, in case he’d been checking Twitter.

@CoachDaboll you’re gonna get fired

— josh c (@josh_c1995) November 25, 2017

@CoachDaboll Fuck You!

— Garret Cook (@gibbousquan98) November 25, 2017

@CoachDaboll why?why why why do you have a running back as big Scarborough and you run him sideways?!? Shit! How many damn years of watching this same shit do bama fans have to endure?

— Nicholas Daniel (@nicdaniel4UA) November 25, 2017

@CoachDaboll you suck

— josh c (@josh_c1995) November 25, 2017

@CoachDaboll DIAL IT UP

— Pats(7-2) (@KFCGodfather) November 25, 2017

Later, an addendum:

@CoachDaboll PLEASE DIAL IT UP

— Pats(7-2) (@KFCGodfather) November 25, 2017

DIAL IT UP.

Damn @CoachDaboll what about some damn slants

— Ken Morris (@bikecop24) November 25, 2017

Get. Your. Head. Out. Of. Your. Ass. @CoachDaboll

— Colby Murray (@Colbylm) November 25, 2017

Calls for Bama to just run the damn ball:

Endless.

The Tide’s last national championship offensive coordinator weighed in by just happening to cite his own team’s rushing stats.

Hmmm. Who isn't on here??? Come to #thefaU http://pic.twitter.com/SmVcNF9bRN

— Lane Kiffin (@Lane_Kiffin) November 26, 2017

If u want to win rivalry games. Run the BALL!!! Come to #thefaU #5forheisman https://t.co/MMpPr3S9ip

— Lane Kiffin (@Lane_Kiffin) November 27, 2017

Is there now a surely ironic Twitter account dedicated to sharing all calls for Saban to be fired?

There is:

Breaking news Nick Saban arrested by Alabama State Police for first degree murder of the Tide football program. http://pic.twitter.com/MBxFBztPAJ

— Fire Nick Saban (@FireSaban) November 26, 2017

And other postgame analysis

A bit earlier, from the game thread at SB Nation’s Roll Bama Roll, some comments:

Welp thats game

Fuck this team. Coach im counting on you to give this sack of shit of a coaching staff all hell tonight tomorrow fuck it give it to them until next year. This is fucking embarrasing and if anyine doesnt feel that way and is wearing crimson and white on that bench send them packing. I dont care if its a five star freshman or a coach. Send a gad dam message.

And this nice exchange between friends:

One of the cool things about any time Bama loses a game is that legions of Tide fans record YouTube instant reaction videos. And, hoo boy, have we some treats.

This guy claims he punched out his wall.

youtube

“The Eagles come in and ruin my perfect season,” our man says. “Now I was all happy and everything because Bama was winning. Now Bama is not winning. They got an L, a loss. And now, now it’s gonna change things. Are they gonna make the national champions? Are they gonna get into the SECs? I just don’t know.”

Expect an invoice for the damages to arrive in Tuscaloosa soon.

“When I gotta pay to get the new wall done, I’m gonna send the bill to Alabama.”

Here’s another Bama fan eating “one of the hardest damn crows I’ve ever had to eat”

youtube

The points made here are pretty regular and reasonable, but stop by for the excellent glasses:

youtube

In the end, Alabama was the real winner here, because the Tide experienced no joy whatsoever.

From the 247 board, in response to Auburn fans having fun after winning the SEC West:

The last time Alabama fans rushed the field? Probably the early 1990's at Legion field (Might have been the 1990 win over the booger-eaters), and it was NOT a mass event, but only about 20-30 drunk students, many of whom felt the sting of Birmingham's finest who were on the field waiting for them. Lots and lots of upset Mommies and Daddies after their drunk darlings got bllly-clubbed and/or arrested!! LOL!!!

It probably HAS happened at some point in Alabama history, but I cannot recall an "en masse" rushing of the field by Alabama fans at any time in my life.

There's a reason the SEC (and EVERY OTHER MAJOR CONFERENCE) bans it - and not just because its Classless and "Bush League" - but because its Very DANGEROUS, both for the trashy fans running out on the field, as well as for the players and staff of the losing team. People are invariably injured in these "mob scenes" - often seriously, but you don't hear about it because the schools ALWAYS keep it on the "down low"

Now, a quick whip around some other fan bases whose teams lost.

Michigan

Lost to Ohio State for the sixth time in a row.

A basic summary of how that went:

Comments are off at MGoBlog. They'll be back when I feel like it.

— mgoblog (@mgoblog) November 26, 2017

Notre Dame

Lost 38-20 at Stanford, the result of a swift, epic collapse.

Would Bob Stoops come out of retirement, less than a year after leaving a good job at Oklahoma, to take over the Irish? The evidence that he would is mounting, folks.

I sort of wondered because he bought 2 expensive houses next door to each other in Chicago recently.

Why would you buy houses there? I sort of wondered if he took this year off to watch his boys play HS football as seniors. I wondered if maybe he was waiting in the wings to take the ND job, and maybe already had contact with ND for when Kelly was let go.. I have mixed emotions. He wins a lot. He loses the really big game most of the time (NC). He had tons of criminal type players at ou, I am not sure if it could work out or not. He is Catholic. I also wonder if he is ok healthwise. It is interesting to think about.

Food for thought, indeed.

Mississippi State

Lost the Egg Bowl to Ole Miss, then had its former AD who now works for Florida hire away maybe the best coach in program history.

Scott Stricklin The Traitor

Scott Stricklin is now the biggest traitor to our university of all time.

Some folks are our enemies and big pieces of shit like Ole Miss folks. These people actively try to hurt us and they hate us. However, all of these folks we knew hated us and we never expected them to like us.

However, to have one of your own intentionally hurt your program this bad for his own personal gain, you are far worse than any of the others.

From your enemy you can protect yourself. You can fight them, you know who they are and you can build your defenses.A traitor is someone you have trusted like a brother, and you know he is a traitor only after being betrayed.... The enemy is in the open, the traitor is moving in the dark.

Stricklin should never be allowed to step foot on campus as a friend again. Hugh Freeze is now more respected by me than Stricklin is. Hippocrates suck but there is no one worse than a traitor.

It’s not clear what this person thought Stricklin’s job would be once he left Mississippi State. But I’m sure the ancient Greek physician Hippocrates would disapprove.

South Carolina

Lost 34-10 to Clemson. This post is about Clemson, I’m pretty sure:

Tater Tots have The Answer!

Recruit with attorneys! Turnupseed from ALA? Daba Dabe do knew what he was doing I think is the answer. Bringing the e-factor's dad (whom was in jail in Florence to a Jail in Greenville) just as he is visiting taterville and BOOM he is a tater with a Caddy and a bag full of money. By the way, Turnipseed came from Ala about 4 years ago

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