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lukesaprince · 3 months

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Rich Part 23

Summary: Harry and y/n deal with the aftermath of y/n's panic attack and do some retail therapy to prepare for their trip.

Warning: Smut, public bj & masturbation, exhibitionism, daddy!kink. Mention of panic attacks, Ethan and illegal dealings.

Word count: 10k+

Author's note: This chapter isn't as long as I hoped it would be and I wasn't able to get a lot of the Pleasing scene complete. I haven't been in a good writing space recently and I really want to make sure it's all planned out properly but I wanted to post something in the mean time for you! Enjoyy

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- Find my General Masterlist here -

Harry’s stomach was in knots. It had been twisted since the moment he let you walk away from him at his office. His head was in a constant state of nausea and the very thought of you being so far from him had his body aching. Your trip was coming up so quickly, two weeks exactly now and things had taken such a sudden switch he was dizzy.

He hadn’t seen you for a couple of days, or spoken to you properly either. For anyone else that would be normal. Seeing your partner every day wasn’t a prerequisite to having a happy relationship, but to Harry it was torture. Other than your text message when you got home Wednesday, you hadn’t spoken to him. He sent his usual good morning text Thursday morning and was only met with silence. He worked through his lunch that day so he couldn’t call you like usual, but if that ever happened he expected you to call him first. You never did.

He tried to call you that night, then again Friday morning but you ignored him both times. He was starting to panic, starting to fear that you were seriously not okay or that he had done something to fuck everything up even if he didn’t realise it. He knew you two could communicate if that was the case, that your relationship was strong enough for you to speak to him if he did something wrong. After everything you two had been through, your foundation was strong. At least Harry believed so.

But knowing it could be the former option and you could be at home in an unstable mental state was far worse than the possibility of him doing something that warranted you ignoring him. Harry didn’t want to push you, but he also couldn’t handle the unknown.

He was meant to spend Saturday with you. You were going to meet him in the city to get as much shopping done for your trip as possible then he would spend the night. It was your last free day before locking down for studying and Harry wanted to make it something stress-free and enjoyable to give you a mental break. You only had a couple of free days after your exams before you both flew out so there wasn’t a lot of time to get the key essentials once your semester was over. Mostly you just wanted new clothes and wanted to pick things out for Harry as well. He was happy to oblige.

But now… he didn’t even know if you two were okay.

So he decided that he needed to see you. You could turn him away and tell him that you needed space or hated him or preferably that you loved him. Whatever you wanted. Harry didn’t care what you said, as long as he found you alive and okay.

Early Saturday morning Harry was driving to your place with a bouquet of fresh lilies, a large oat latte and a croissant from your favourite local bakery. He didn’t have your keycard anymore so he couldn’t let himself in… but Harry was creative. It felt a bit reckless and immature actually, calling your best friend to let him in like it was some plot for forgiveness, especially when he was just checking up on you. But Harry didn’t want to risk you coming downstairs and turning away without seeing him or worse, just plain ignoring him.

“Hey, Harry.” Maeve greeted, smiling at the man as she held open the entrance door for him. It was especially cold outside now, so he was quick to rush inside and let the door close before he hugged her quickly as a hello.

“Hey, Maeve. Thanks for doing this.”

“It’s fine. You’re lucky I like you.” She teased, bumping his shoulder while they walked towards the elevator.

Harry was fortunate enough to spend more time with your friends. As were you to spend more time with Niall and Jed. Since Harry was mostly spending time at your place, he had spent time with Maeve and Jay, even Dakari. Usually, it was just your neighbour and coworker, but there was a double date situation where Harry became aware of the ‘older guy’ Maeve was dating.

Dakari and Harry knew each other through golf and Pleasing. They weren’t exceptionally close, but they got on well enough to treat their beautiful girlfriends to an expensive dinner in the city. Dakari was actually interested in investing in Pleasing, but Harry didn’t particularly like the way he conducted business and would’ve rather owned a third of the club than share a sixth with a man he didn’t want to associate with. Harry was glad for that decision now, since his once silent investment turned into him having a say in business decisions and provided perks that he loved to use.

He hadn’t really used them since he met you but he hoped one day he would. With you.

“Yeah, well, I appreciate it… Have you seen her? I haven’t spoken to her since Wednesday and I’m really fucking worried.” Harry admitted, holding the door of the elevator open for Maeve.

“Yeah, I have.” She nodded, “she told me what happened... It’s pretty fucked up. I hope you’ve dealt with that asshole.”

Harry assumed that meant everything.

“I have. I mean, I will.” That still didn’t mean he was going to elaborate. The plan he had set in place to deal with Ethan was one for the inner circle only. The original, small, tightly-knit circle. It was illegal after all. To frame a man for stealing $250,000. “Is she okay?”

“She’s okay… I think she just needed space, that’s all. I wouldn’t take it personally, Harry. She loves you.”

“I know and I don’t. Well, I’m trying not to, anyway.”

The rest of the ride was full of polite small talk. Maeve complimented the flowers and the croissant, but Harry didn’t need her approval to know you loved them. He knew you would because he knew everything about you. Everything except how you were feeling right now.

Harry made sure Maeve went back to her apartment before he knocked on your door. He was nervous, he couldn’t lie, but he was hoping that you two could talk about your panic attack and hopefully end up having a nice day together. He just wanted to hold you and see you smile.

The door swung open barely ten seconds after Harry knocked and there you were. And you looked… okay. Thank God, you looked okay. He could see the tiredness in your eyes and body by the droop of your shoulders and bags under your eyes. You hadn’t changed out of your plaid pyjamas yet but that was normal. Aside from your clear exhaustion, you looked well.

“Hi…” Harry breathed, smiling softly. “I wanted to check up on you. You haven’t answered my calls or texts…”

Your eyes softened and it took a moment before you said or did anything. Without saying anything, you pulled him inside by his nice vest and wrapped your arms around his body, pressing yourself against him. He reciprocated the best he could with his hands full and loosely wrapped his arms around your shoulders, breathing out a huge sigh of relief.

There was a flood of instant relief through Harry just at your tight hug. Like a heavy weight dropped from his shoulders the moment you buried your face into the light blue checks of his vest. God was he fucking ecstatic. Just having your body in his arms was euphoric and there was no feeling quite like the comfortable intimacy of a hug.

“I’m sorry, Harry. I’m so sorry.”

He could barely understand you with how your face was pressed against him, but he made out the words and was immediately taken aback.

“What? Baby, why are you sorry?” He soothed, now desperate to free his hands so he could take care of you properly.

“I didn’t mean to ignore you, I was just…” you sighed and pressed your cheek to him instead, sliding your hands beneath his vest and shirt to feel his warm skin. It was like a clutch for normalcy, a tie to feeling okay again. The last few days had been so murky and unsettling. All you wanted was to feel safe again. Harry never failed to make you feel safe and yet you pushed him away. It wasn’t fair to him and it went against everything you two tried so hard to build. “The panic attack freaked me out and I needed time to sort my feelings out… I shouldn’t have ignored you, H. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t spologise baby, please…” Harry paused, “just-let me put these down, okay? Then we can talk properly?”

You pulled back and looked up at him, reluctantly releasing him from the hug. It was barely a minute before he was on you again. All he did was set the three items on your little table before he wrapped his arms around you properly and squeezed you tight against his body, rocking you slightly from side to side. You gladly inhaled his masculine scent, finding comfort in the rich, sexiness. It was unfair that he always smelt so good. Even after the gym he still smelt like a sexy, clean wealthy man.

“You don’t need to apologise, y/n. I know it freaked you out.” Harry soothed, pressing his lips against the crown of your head, “I was just really fucking worried. You scared the hell out of me.”

“I know. I just wasn’t expecting it to happen at all and once it did I just kept thinking and thinking and I was just so angry and exhausted. It was a lot.”

“I know. Trust me I get it. They can be the most debilitating thing in the entire world…” Harry soothed, pulling back from you. “Do you want to go sit down and talk about it?”

With a nod, Harry guided you to sit down on your bed with him. It was still unmade, but Harry didn’t care. You took it a step further and crawled back towards your pillows to lie down on it instead before patting the spot beside you so Harry would join you. He shoved his shoes off then shuffled in beside you, adjusting himself so you were cuddled into his chest.

It was all done in comfortable silence and once you were settled in, Harry decided to speak first.

“They can be traumatic.” Harry murmured, “I spent nearly five hours in the gym after one of my panic attacks.” At his words, you untucked your face from his chest and looked up at him to watch him speak. He smiled down at you, stroking his fingers across your cheek like his words weren’t deeply personal and from a dark period of his life. “I worked my body so hard and wrecked myself because I was trying to deal with my emotions. Or trying not to deal, more like it. I definitely paid for it afterwards but at the time it was the only thing I knew would get my mind off it.”

“I came home Wednesday and cried,” You whispered, watching his eyes sadden. It killed him that he wasn’t there to help you. “Then I went and bought Red Bulls and chips and pulled an all-nighter to finish off an assignment like it was nothing. I was so… I don’t even know how to describe it. I was angry, yeah, but I was also so far out of my head that I just wanted to distract myself.”

“We all do unhealthy things to cope sometimes, y/n. There’s no one way to deal with things. Pulling an all nighter might not be the best way but you were doing the best you could to cope.”

“It didn’t help.” You frowned, tracing the checks on his vest with your nail.

“I can’t imagine it did.” He chuckled softly, sighing when you didn’t look up at him. “Don’t beat yourself up for it, baby... Maeve told me you spoke to her about it. Did that help?”

So that’s how he got in. You couldn’t really be upset by it. Maeve wouldn’t have done it if you didn’t want to see him. You were just… a bit nervous to make the first move.

“It did. It was good to rant about it with someone who didn’t really know anyone involved.”

“Do you want to talk to me about it?”

Harry hoped you would. After hearing nothing for days he just wanted an insight into your head.

“You don’t have to.” He continued softly, prompting you to look up at him, “I’m happy to just be here with you if that’s what you need.” He cupped your face, stroking your cheek with his thumb, “I would’ve been here when it happened too. I hope you know that. You don’t have to go through these things alone if you don’t want to.”

“I know but I was just so overstimulated I think and… I didn’t want to say anything I regretted,” an unreadable look flashed through Harry’s eyes, like he wasn’t exactly sure how to take what you were saying. You sighed, looking back down at the same quad of checks you had been tracing with your finger during this entire conversation, “I don’t think I ever really processed what happened with Ethan and… your part in it, I guess. There’s been so much going on that I just kept ignoring it and ignoring his existence completely. Seeing him really triggered me and the more I thought about it…” you sighed again, “the more I was angry at you too, not just Ethan.”

“You were?”

“I know you’ve only done what you thought the right thing to do was. But I just don’t get how you can work with him every day. He hurt me so fucking badly Harry…” you could feel your throat starting to get scratchy and your eyes prickling with tears. The stinging forced you to turn from him and close your eyes momentarily, but it did nothing to conceal how you were feeling. The sight practically broke Harry’s heart. “I don’t get how you can even be in the same building as him. It doesn’t make sense to me.”

“I feel sick every day I have to see him, y/n. I’ve done everything I can to make sure we never cross paths but sometimes it’s inevitable. He was never meant to be on my floor on Wednesday and I never would’ve let him come anywhere near you if I knew.”

“But you still work with him, Harry!” You sat up abruptly, looking down at him. “It doesn’t make sense. He’s getting no consequences for what he put us through. I get you couldn’t go to the police because there was no evidence, I get it. But I need to do something. I need you to do something.”

“I am.” He didn’t want to get frustrated at you, not when you were hurting but he was hurting too. This wasn’t fucking easy for him and if the law meant nothing he would’ve gone after Ethan himself and made sure he never bothered you or anyone else again. But he couldn’t exactly do that, could he? He sat up as well, nudging backwards until his back was against your headboard. “Y/n I’ve been dealing with him at work the last couple of months because I had to for my plan to work. I couldn’t do anything out of the ordinary because I didn’t want to bring any attention to myself, but I have a plan. It’s just one of those things you have to wait for.”

“What is it? This plan?” You crossed your arms over your chest, looking at him expectantly.

“I can’t tell you.” Harry almost seemed reluctant to say the words, but it wasn’t because he was apprehensive about his decision to keep it a secret from you, it was because he wasn’t sure how you’d react. He didn’t want you to be mad at him, but at the same time he wasn’t going to compromise your safety and your future.

Because that’s what it came down to. If everything went to shit and you knew even one single detail about it, you were done.

He wasn’t going to let that happen but he also wasn’t going to sit here and lie and pretend that nothing was going on behind the scenes. That’s something he would’ve done at the beginning of your relationship, but he knew that this was just as much your fight as his and lying wasn’t the right thing to do. He could be honest and keep you safe at the same time.

“What do you mean? Why?”

You were immediately jumping to many conclusions, all Harry wanted to settle. He just wasn’t sure how.

“Because it’s not exactly legal, y/n and while it’s pretty fucking foolproof I can’t risk anything. If the whole thing comes crashing down I don’t want you knowing a single bit of it.”

“But that’s-”

“You will find out. I promise.” He interrupted, “just not until it’s over. I’m not budging on this.”

As much as you wanted Ethan to pay, you didn’t want it like this. You always knew he covered his tracks well but you hoped that by now there’d be some loose thread. Someone with hard evidence to be able to get him punished and that clearly wasn’t the case. But that didn’t mean you wanted Harry risking everything, either. It was exactly how you felt when you first met Niall and Jed and learnt about how they were blackmailing Ethan into handing over the photos. It was reckless and a huge fucking crime. You prayed that it wasn’t the same plan because nothing on this fucking planet was worth Harry going to jail and you losing him. You couldn’t even bare the thought.

“I don’t want you doing anything illegal Harry. It’s stupid!” Your voice broke in your distress, shooting Harry right in the heart like a goddamn bullet. “I’d rather him get away with everything than have you risk yourself. What if you go to jail or what if it doesn’t work? I can’t… I can’t lose you.”

“You won’t lose me.” His eyes softened and he reached forward to cup your cheek, “You won’t.” his thumb traced over your cheek and he couldn’t help but kiss you gently before pressing his forehead against yours. “I understand you’re scared, y/n but I have to do this not only for you but for me too… I have no choice but to go down this route because he left nothing for me to work with. Fucking nothing. If there was another way, I would do it. But this is it.”

“And you can’t tell me?” you whispered, wishing you could pry the whole truth from his mouth.

“No.” He shook his head, leaning back just a tad so he could see your whole face at once. “But I’ve done all my due diligence, baby, I promise and I’m as far removed from it as I possibly can be. So please, just, let this one go. For now.”

“I’ll try…” you settled on, unable to promise anything more. “How long am I letting this go though? A couple of weeks? A month?”

Harry sighed and leaned back against your headboard, “I don’t know. Could be while we’re on holiday, could be in a couple months. When I know, you know.”

“And in the meantime you’re just going to keep working with him? That doesn’t seem fair” You didn’t particularly like that idea. If it were up to you, you wouldn’t want him stepping foot into that office again while that asshole was walking around free and triggering panic attacks left right and centre.

“Well…” His lip quirked up in a smile, “I was hoping we’d enjoy our holiday together and then who knows… maybe I won’t go back to work once we’re home. I haven’t decided yet but I’ve wanted to do something different for a while now. Just not sure what.”

“I didn't know you were thinking of changing jobs.”

He shrugged, tracing random patterns on your back through your pyjama shirt. “I haven’t been planning anything per say, but I’m a bit bored. Seeing that asshole around doesn’t make it any easier. It doesn’t seem worth it anymore, not when I can do anything else and be happier for it.”

“A career change at your ripe age? That’s ballsy.” You mused, squealing and jumping slightly when he pinched your ass.

“Well I haven’t decided anything yet, just considering my options. At my ripe age I’ve done quite well for myself so I wouldn’t mind a bit of time off. Maybe be a stay at home boyfriend while you study your pretty little ass off in your final semester.” He reached up to fiddle with the ends of your hair, twirling a strand around his finger.

“A stay at home boyfriend?” You scoffed, laughing loudly. “Stop.”

“What?” He laughed, amusement laced in his widened eyes, “we’ve got a son and two households to run, someone has to be around to cook and take care of the place.”

A son. There was something so heartwarming about Archie being referred to as your son, especially when Harry was being so casual about it. Like it was normal. Put the son reference and conjoining your two houses as one and well… that was about as committed as you could be without moving in together. Not that you were anywhere near that stage yet.

“One of those households has a maid, a gardener and a dog walker, I’m sure it’s just fine.” You rolled your eyes, “But if you want to take care of this place and feed me I won’t complain.”

“I’d be more than happy to feed you and fulfill any other needs you have.” He announced proudly, squeezing your hip before reaching in to peck you quickly. “Which reminds me-” he got out of bed, going to your table where your coffee and sweet treat were still waiting for you. “I got you these.” You shuffled up into a cross legged position, happily grabbing the two items when Harry sat back down on your bed.

“Thank you.” You sipped your drink, loving the sweet taste of it. “And thank you for driving all the way down here. It means a lot.” You tore open the paper bag, ripping off a small piece of the croissant and offering it to Harry.

“No no. It’s yours.” He declined, happy when you didn’t argue and at the piece. “And you don’t need to thank me. I love you, y/n and I wanted to see you. I always do” He smiled, tucking your hair behind your ear.

“I love you too.” You pressed your hand on his knee and reached in to kiss him quickly, loving the way his hand returned to your back to trace random shapes over it. “I love this by the way. I never thought I’d find a vest sexy but you look really good.” You traced over the v-neck of his checkered vest with your clean hand, looking up at him. You really missed him.

“Thanks darling. It’s vintage.” He smirked, wrapping his arm around your hip to drag you back to sit properly beside him. You felt a little dirty compared to him in his nice outfit, especially since you had been wearing the same clothes for days and desperately needed to wash your hair. Harry didn’t seem to care though and you really appreciated that. Washing your hair was a mission by itself. Add a panic attack and assignment stress and you couldn’t think of anything worse, even if the thought of a long hot shower did sound quite nice.

“I like it.” You took a big bite of your croissant this time, moaning at the taste of the chocolate filling. You slumped against Harry, happily chewing it while he rubbed your hip and kissed your head.

“Good?” He mused, sliding his hand just underneath your pyjama top to feel your soft skin.

“So good.” You nodded enthusiastically.

“I’m glad.” He laughed. A comfortable silence fell over you two, with small comments and conversation here and there. It was nice to just spend time with Harry, even if you weren’t doing much of anything. “Would you still be interested in going shopping?”

“Today?” You sat up properly and looked at him, both your coffee and croisssnt long gone and in your stomach.

“If you’re up for it. We did plan for today but there’s no pressure. I’m more than happy to change into comfortable clothes and watch Netflix all day. Truly.”

“No no. I could go shopping. We need to get ready for our trip, right?” You grinned, getting excited at the thought of a day walking around the shops and buying so many cute outfits for your trip. Secretly though, you liked the idea of Harry going with you more than the shopping itself.

“We do. Yes.” He smiled, happy that you had a bit more energy. Harry hated seeing you down. Any emotion except pleasure and happiness had him determined to fix whatever the issue was. “Are you sure you’re okay, though?”

“Yep.” You climbed over him to get out of bed, stopping when you were straddling him. His hands found your hips immediately, unable to keep them off you. “I need to wash my hair though, so can you wait an hour? I’ll try and be quick.”

An hour. By that calculation you were doing your ‘everything shower’ and a full face of makeup. Harry now knew what that meant, but he was happy to sit around and keep himself occupied if that meant you were taking care of yourself. The concept wasn’t as relaxing as he thought it would be. It was more of a frustrating marathon of events where each one presented its own challenge. He made the mistake of wanting to join you for one of them, thinking it would be fun and you ended up kicking him out because you didn’t have enough space to shave the back of your leg.

If there was one shower he let you have alone, it was that one.

Harry chuckled and nodded, squeezing your hips then helping you climb the rest of the way off the bed. “Take your time, y/n. We’ve got all day.”

You managed to get everything done in just over an hour and then you and Harry were on your way to the city. You grabbed another coffee as soon as you made it into the shopping centre, then the shop-to-shop walking began. There were a few items you had on your list that you were aiming to buy, but for the most part you just wanted to try a bunch of stuff on and see what you liked. Harry of course was happy to offer his suggestions and his wallet which only seemed to get him more excited to pick things out for you.

“I was thinking…”

“Mh?” You hummed, buckling up the buckle on a pair of baby pink suede platform heels. They definitely weren’t Europe-appropriate, but you got a little sidetracked and with Harry encouraging you to try on everything you so much as looked at, it was easy to get distracted by anything that looked pretty.

“After your assignment is submitted Friday, why don’t we pack up your place and you can stay with me until we leave for our trip?”

“Harry I still have to study for two exams. As much as I love that idea, you don’t want me taking over your house.” You responded, standing up from the couch to test the comfort of the shoes. You stepped around them a little, walking to the closest mirror to have a look at them properly. “And I’m sure my parents would hate that I’m spending a week at yours instead of going home.”

“But you weren’t meant to go home at all, remember? Not until your exams were finished.” Harry coaxed, standing up from the couch to step behind you in the mirror and wrap his arms around your waist. You shivered slightly against him, still focusing on looking at the heels on your feet. “This time you’re close to home, close to Archie…” He hummed, sliding his nose up the side of your neck. This time you really shivered and your focus was taken completely away from your shoes. Not that you were thinking of buying them anyway. They were way too expensive but the allure of trying on Prada shoes alongside a man who already put aside a pair of sunglasses and a belt for himself was way too strong. “Close to me…” this time his lips brushed against your skin, leaving a trail right underneath your ear.

Your breath hitched ever so slightly, making Harry smirk at you in the mirror. Oh he had you now. Your body was becoming more pliant in his arms and you were leaning against him more and more with every passing second.

“You could study during the day and have Archie keep you company then at night I could feed you and help you… relax,” his hand flattened against your belly, causing the bold rings on his fingers to twinkle in the lighting. You had a sudden craving for those fingers to be in your mouth or further down south where he actually could make you relax.

“I’ll be studying all the time, Harry.” You weren’t sure why you were protesting it so much, not when the thought of a quick orgasm as your 15-minute study break sounded so delicious.

“And I’ll be right there beside you, working or reading or providing you with a quick… study break. Whatever you need, hm.” He drawled, kissing your cheek. All you could do was nod because you were so fucking dazed and way too horny in the middle of a store you couldn’t afford. “Do you like the shoes?”

“What?”

You didn’t even hear what he said.

“The shoes.” He tapped your belly, looking down at your feet. “Are they comfortable?”

“Oh…” You tried to snap out of it and stepped a little in place, feeling the shoes mould perfectly to your feet. God, why did you have to love something so expensive? “Yeah, they’re comfy but I don’t need them.”

“Nonsense. They’re baby pink, your favourite colour.” Harry grinned, pulling back to step in front of you instead. The fact that he called it ‘baby pink’ and not ‘light pink’ had you screaming on the inside. He grabbed onto one of your hands, holding it out between you. “Do a spin.”

You did as told and did a 360 spin for him, liking how your heights were a bit more even with the tall heel. Without saying anything more to you, he turned to the sales associate who was waiting patiently beside the couch Harry was just sitting on. “Do you have a matching bag to these? In a baby pink?”

“Yes, sir. We have a cross body and a shoulder bag.”

“Perfect. Bring them both, please.” Harry turned back to you, then suddenly whipped his head around to the woman before she could step away, “Oh, and please bring some sunglasses too. Anything you think might suit her. Thanks, love.”

“Harry, what are you doing?” You hissed, “I’m not buying anything.”

“No, I am. I like you in pink. Besides, isn’t a shoulder bag and sunglasses a necessity for a holiday?” He mused, squeezing your hips. “Let me spoil you, darling. For doing so well on your exams.”

“I haven’t even done them yet.” You blushed, protesting slightly while threading your fingers behind his neck. “You don’t have to buy me such expensive things, H. You’ve already gotten me so much today.”

“And? You deserve it.” Harry assured you, reaching forward to kiss you gently. The lipstick you applied before you left was almost gone by now. Harry could barely keep his hands off you and you didn’t really want him to. These quick, casual pecks and signs of affection meant so much more to you than anything he could buy.

“Thank you.” You whispered, threading your fingers softly into the hair at the nape of his neck to kiss him again. “Really. Thank you.”

“You’re more than welcome, baby.” He kissed you again and then sealed it with another quick peck before using his grip on your hips to turn you back towards the mirror. “Now tell me you don’t love the shoes. I know you can’t.”

It was store after store of shopping. You tried to keep things concise to the list you brought of things you wanted to get, but just like the Prada shoes… and bag… and sunglasses, you were both easily distracted. You had more fun dressing Harry up more than anything. Seeing him try on complete outfits you picked out for him just hit the spot for you. You loved it.

And it had nothing to do with him looking absolutely delicious in every fucking thing. You picked out a bit of a joke outfit in one of the ‘younger’ stores as Harry liked to call it, styling him in something more skater boy than his usual refined, delicious European style and he still looked hot as anything.

Harry hated it of course, but he did like the graphic t-shirt and managed to style it in his own way with the pair of dress pants he had on. God, he was just so fucking hot. By the third men's store you brought him into, you were sweating. You couldn’t explain why it was such a turn-on to watch him open and close a curtain and show off different outfits or why a linen button-up much like everything else he has riled you up until you were clenching your thighs, but it just did.

You finally truly understood why he liked buying you things so much.

“Alright, last one then I need food. It’s practically dinner time and there’s a sushi train near here. I could demolish like twenty of those little plates.” Harry chuckled to himself and opened the door of the fitting room he was in. Upon revealing himself, your mouth properly dropped.

It was another button-up style top but this time it was entirely made out of white crochet squares. The design was fine and perfect beyond perfect and had so many little holes throughout the design, that you could see slivers of skin everywhere. Then there was the obvious sliver of skin. The top three undone buttons that Harry had purposefully left open to expose his cross necklace and littered chest hairs. The tails of his swallows were peaking past the edges and with particular movements, the moth became more visible.

Jesus fucking Christ.

“Not sure about this one, love. ‘Dunno why.” Harry ran his hands down the fabric, looking at his shirt until he realised you hadn’t said anything. “Y/n?”

Seeing the look at your face, Harry could see exactly what your opinion was on his shirt.

“I love it.” You finally said, walking towards him so you could feel the soft lace across his chest. He smirked and placed his hands on your waist. “It’s soft.”

Just the feeling of the soft lace against his warm body was driving you crazy. His body heat was radiating against your hands and you suddenly craved it against your body. All this talk about ‘study breaks’ and being in the same house as him for an entire week had your head in a spin. You couldn’t stop thinking about having constant sex and how tempting it would be to have so much privacy for so long.

And this was before you two were going to have an entire month together. God, the thought of that… your vagina would never be the same, you knew that for sure.

“Mh. Comfy too.” He commented, shivering when you dug your nails through the lace holes to scratch at his chest. “So y’like it?” Harry’s head cocked a little as the attraction in your eyes quickly started to reflect in his own.

“Uhuh.”

You peeked around quickly to make sure you were alone and when the coast was clear you made the quick decision to walk him backwards back into the fitting room. Harry was happy to follow along with you, barely being able to ask what you were doing before you locked the door behind you and grabbed onto his face to kiss him.

Harry squeezed your waist and chuckled into your mouth, sighing softly against your lips while he kissed back. His arms started to wrap tightly around you and he was trying so hard to not moan at how eager you were pressing yourself against him and nibbling on his lip and tugging on his hair and fucking hell he was going dizzy.

You weren’t one to start things like this and Harry was enjoying every fucking moment.

“What are you doing, darling? Hm?” Harry mused, eyes fluttering shut as you tugged his head back by his hair to gain easier access to his neck. His fingers dug deeper into the small of your back in an attempt to ground himself. He had to be quiet.

“I need your cock in my mouth,” You whispered against his skin while sliding your hand down his chest towards his dress pants. Harry tensed immediately beneath you, nearly groaning loudly when your hand landed on his cock. “Please, Daddy.”

You started to palm over his half-hard cock which was very quickly hardening properly beneath your hand. Harry’s head tipped back against the wall and his jaw went slack. He could barely fucking believe what was happening right now.

What you were doing was reckless. Inappropriate and very much illegal. Giving head on a yacht in the open ocean didn’t exactly compare to giving head in a small enclosed fitting room where there were many more people around and any small noise would give you away.

To be honest though, you didn’t really give a fuck. You could tell Harry liked that.

You pulled back from his skin and made eye contact with him while squeezing him through his pants hard enough to make his eyes flutter. Reaching forward, you kissed him softly and spoke through soft kisses until he verbally agreed to have you on your knees before him. “Let me say thank you… please… I need it so bad, Daddy.”

Harry breathed heavily against your mouth and threaded his fingers through the hair at the nape of your neck to tighten them in an almost warning way. “You’ve got to be quick, y/n. Unless you want to be caught.”

Something told you Harry wouldn’t have any issues being caught with his cock in your mouth.

With a quick nod from Harry, you began the descent onto your knees. But before they even bent, he stopped you. “Wait.” He murmured, grabbing his expensive vest that was hanging on the back of the door and then folding it in half so it was thicker. “For your knees.”

“I thought you liked it when they bruised.” You grinned, taking the vest nonetheless and putting it on the carpet in front of his feet. You slowly got down on your knees, looking back at the lock for a second just to double-check it was actually locked. It was thrilling to be in such a compromising position, but that didn’t mean you actually wanted someone to walk in on you two.

“Only when I can take care of you after.” Harry sighed, the sight of you before him enough to make him breathless. He tried to relax against the wall separating your fitting room from the one next door. It thankfully went floor to ceiling, so you hoped that would muffle most of the noise. As much as you could try to keep quiet, Harry was quite terrible at it and it was hard to give a proper satisfying blowjob without making some sort of noise.

Hopefully, the store’s music would cover it.

“You always take care of me. Now it’s my turn.” You looked up at him with a smile, sliding your hands over his thighs. He looked down at you, sliding his hand through your hair to push it back from your face so he could watch your facial expressions and every move you made.

“You look so hot in this” You complimented, pushing his button-up top up his stomach to expose his belly button and below. “You better buy it.” you leaned forward and licked a stripe from the button of his pants to his belly button, making sure to do it once more while you undid his pants.

“I will…” Harry assured, sighing out like a pretty angel just at the feeling of your mouth on his lower belly. “You like it so I have to buy it.”

“Mhmm. Y’gonna look so good, Daddy…”

Harry’s pants easily fell to his ankles once the button came undone. They were straight-legged and with his tight briefs pressing his cock down, they slid right down. Of course, the briefs didn’t last very long either and they soon joined Harry’s pants at his ankles.

You had no time to tease or kiss every inch of exposed skin like you wanted to. This had to be quick which was a shame when he looked so fucking hot standing there naked aside from the pretty lace button-up you wanted to keep on him. It was like sexy lingerie and it messed with your head much more than you would’ve liked.

“I only look good for you, darling. You’re the only one I want to… shit…”

Harry couldn’t even finish his words, not when you spat on your hand, wrapped it around him and brought him to your mouth without any fucking warning. You jerked him slowly with your hand, focusing on the base while you slid his head against your tongue. His hips bucked against your mouth at the feeling, causing you to choke a little on his cock and force yourself to pull back from him.

“You’ve got to relax.” You licked your tongue slowly against his slit, savouring the taste of his precum. You made a show of it too and closed your eyes to hum gently once it collected on your tongue. “As much as I love choking on your cock, it’s too loud.”

You were almost scolding him, reprimanding him for not being good and staying pressed against the wall. It was reminiscent of the first time you figured out you loved him, not that Harry knew it like that. Harry remembered the first shower blowjob he got from you as a bold move, not the craving for control that you desperately wanted at the time.

Now… you’d give up any and all control to Harry, knowing that you were really the one in charge. That’s how you two worked. You both had your limits and while Harry hadn’t really pushed them to the limits very often, he had the power to do so because you gave it to him.

And how he was putty in your hands.

“Don’t think I won’t get you back for this…” he shuddered, fisting your hair tighter when you brought him back into your mouth, wrapping your lips around him perfectly. All you did was smile around his cock while pressing the vein underneath his length back and forth on your tongue.

You were looking forward to the payback.

The longer you had him in your mouth, the less you started to care about how loud you were being. Harry was doing well to keep still, albeit practically trembling against you, but his hands were tugging on your hair roughly and he couldn’t stop the string of curses in place of loud moans he wanted make for you.

There was just nothing like the sound of male pleasure. Deep, guttural groans and whimpers, hushed lines of praise and degradation and pleads of your name. A loud curse when you clenched around him or a whimpered one when you swallowed around him like you were doing now.

Your hand was still wrapped around his base, fingers reached further back to press against his frenulum and apply pressure to his balls at the same time. You kept moving your mouth quickly and sloppily over his tip, swirling your tongue around his head where he was most sensitive.

“Jesus fucking Christ, y/n. God… your mouth.”

It was borderline blasphemy the way he used God’s name. The way he cursed and moaned it out because you were giving him one of the most insane blowjobs of his entire life. There was pleasure in all types of blowjob, but there was nothing quite toe-curling like having his tip sucked and flicked at so fucking harshly. Harry almost felt like he needed to squeal like a little girl.

And you were eating it up. Literally.

Sucking Harry off just turned you on to level 100. There was something about the shape of his cock… the weight of it on your tongue… his scent and soft skin, the way he was so incredibly hard for you and yet so sensitive and dainty at the same time. All of it. Add the dirty talk and the hair pulling and his nails scratching at your head like he wanted to force your head closer so you’d choke on him and you were practically a puddle in your jeans.

You wanted to touch yourself. To just dip your fingers in your underwear and touch the pain away. Just a little.

“Can I touch myself, Daddy? I’ll be quick, I promise.” You whispered, pulling off him to speak and catch your breath while you continued jerking him off.

Even on your knees with all the power in this situation, you still asked permission to touch yourself. Harry had to force his mind elsewhere to not prematurely cum all over your nice outfit.

“Do it. Make yourself cum f’me, baby. You’ve been sucking me so fucking good.” He praised, rubbing his thumb over your messy mouth. Your once perfect lipliner was all smudged now, leaving behind your pretty swollen lips for Harry to trace. He had a sudden craving to kiss you silly, but with your manicured fingers wrapped around him, his cock’s craving was stronger. Hungrier.

You nodded, bringing his cock to your mouth and bopping against it while you undid your jeans so you could slide your hand into your underwear. It was like instant relief the moment your fingers met your clit. You were soaked and slippery and so fucking horny you knew it wouldn’t take long for you to finish yourself off.

Harry was close too. You could tell by his heavier breathing and the slight twitching in his cock. You kept your lips wrapped around his tip and focused your attention there while you used one hand on his balls and the other to touch yourself.

The closer both of you got to finishing, the louder your noises became. You tried so hard to hide it, to keep your noises reduced to a sigh especially when you could hear people talking all around you, but it was pretty damn hard. Your one saving grace was the music echoing through the speakers, but you were getting so lost in the pleasure you didn’t know or care whether it was loud enough to cover what you two were doing.

“Shit, y/n. ‘M close. ‘M getting so close…”

Keeping your lips wrapped around him, you took his warning as a sign to jerk him faster and time your own circles on your clit with every movement you made on his cock. And it wasn’t long after his warning when you felt his whole body tremble against you. His thighs tensed and his abs clenched, his fingers stilled in your hair.

Harry had to bite down on his own fist to try and muffle the noise he let out when he finally came in your mouth, letting ribbons and ribbons of cum fill your throat until you had to swallow to make more room. He wanted to watch you take all of it and make yourself finish, but he could barely stand up straight let alone keep his eyes open to see the way you shook and squeezed your eyes shut when your own orgasm rushed over you.

When he nudged your head away due to sensitivity, you both seemed to collapse in your own positions to try and calm down from your highs. Your head tilted against his thigh and you just sat there for a moment collecting yourself before deciding to redress Harry. You two had been in the dressing room for way too long now and the post-orgasm clarity was starting to make you freak out about what you had just done.

You only got his button done up before Harry was picking you up off the floor and drawing you in for a heated kiss.

“God I fucking love you.” He murmured, kissing you over and over again while you giggled into his mouth. “Thank you.”

“Thank you.” You smiled, poking his chest. “We should do that again sometime.” You breathed through a laugh while zipping up his pants for him. You were a little in disbelief at what just happened.

“We should,” Harry smirked, reaching between you to zip up your jeans and do the button for you. “Though next time it’ll be you trying to keep quiet and we both know you have a harder time keeping your noises to yourself.”

“That’s so not true!” you scoffed, turning to the mirror so you could fix your hair. “I can keep completely silent thank you very much,” you couldn’t, not when you were with Harry anyway.

“You’re such a liar.” He laughed, shaking his head while taking the lace shirt off so he could put his own clothes back on. You watched him through the mirror, still overly horny and unsatisfied. Seeing his bare chest just made you want his cock in your mouth again. Or better and far more satisfying, inside you. “I can very easily prove you wrong though, I hope you know that.”

“Whatever.” You rolled your eyes and then without any warning felt Harry press his chest into your back while he wrapped his hand around your neck. Your eyes widened and you felt your head go dizzy when he applied pressure just in the right spots.

“I’ve been very generous to you today, baby, and while having my cock in y’mouth is a very nice thank you, I don’t think it warrants attitude, does it?” he murmured, making eye contact with you in the mirror while running his nose up the length of your neck.

Fuck me.

God, you wished he would.

You swallowed thickly, a little overwhelmed at how dominant he became in a flash. You had almost forgotten what it was like to have him so in control and so powerful. Since you got together he had been so soft and loving. The parts of him that would correct you and reprimand you when you broke eye contact or showed a hint of attitude had significantly softened. They hadn’t disappeared altogether, your sex and your life together was still playful and Harry was most definitely in charge, but with your lives being so busy and having so many things to work through, it was clear to both of you that things had changed.

You just hadn’t really spoken about it.

But you didn’t want to forget. You didn’t want Harry to think that he couldn’t push boundaries anymore or be rough with you just because you two were in a relationship. In the beginning you knew he didn’t want to overstep because things were so emotionally raw still, but now that things were good between you two…

You put it down to not having time, which was a big part of the problem. Still, you missed it.

“N-no…” You breathed, sliding your hand to cover the one he had around your neck, “No, it doesn’t.”

“Exactly. So?” He prompted with a raised brow, caressing his fingers up and down the sides of your neck with little pressure.

“‘M sorry, Daddy.”

The title slipped out easily, naturally. It was never going to be part of your lives 24/7 because that wasn’t your dynamic, but you two were clearly still playing and you were still in the high of sucking him off. It was just so easy to let go of all thoughts and issues when he took control like this.

“Good girl, angel.” He smiled, manoeuvring your face to the side so he could kiss you and look at you directly. You savoured the kiss, craving that closeness even when he pulled away to run his thumb over your lips. “Are you still hungry?”

You nodded. “Very.”

“Good.” His eyes softened and he couldn’t resist kissing you again. “Wait outside then, okay? I’ll get dressed then we’ll drop our bags to the car and go get dinner.”

“Okay.” You nodded again, wanting nothing more than to just cling to him and never let you go. Still, you did what he asked and cautiously slipped out of the room, thankful that the one person standing out there paid no attention to you or even Harry when he exited his fitting room a minute later.

It was decided during your dinner together that you’d go back with Harry to his house. After spending such a nice day together, you didn’t really want to go home. You knew you should’ve, especially since you still had one assignment to go before you could focus on studying for your exams, but you knew that you wouldn’t get anything done after the week you’ve had whether you were with Harry or without him.

And you’d much rather be with him.

When you got to his home, you wanted to try everything on again just to make sure you liked what you got in case you changed your mind. Fitting room mirrors can give you the best or worst confidence in the world and you always need to see things in your own house (or Harry’s in this case) to make a final decision. While Harry didn’t quite understand your logic, he was happy to sit in his nice armchair and watch you try everything on for him.

Harry found it quite adorable the way you analysed yourself. The look of concentration and slight furrow in your brow as you observed yourself from every angle. Harry liked everything on you of course, but he quickly learnt you still needed to hear it from him at least three times before you believed it.

“Okay, last one.” You declared, emerging from his walk-in closet where you just looked at the dress for a solid three minutes before wanting Harry’s opinion.

“It’s gorgeous. I love the colour on you.” Harry beamed, fingers laced together with his elbows resting on his parted knees. He scanned your body, thinking that this one was possibly his favourite dress of the day. “Makes your bum look great.”

“Stop.” You scoffed, laughing while looking back in the mirror. You were able to see it from the doorway of his walk-in robe, which was handy. “Seriously, though. You don’t think it washes me out?”

“No. I think it suits you perfectly. It’s different from other dresses you have too.”

You didn’t quite understand how Harry had the patience to sit through a haul like this. Your dad never did, even when you forced him to at least pretend to be interested and yet Harry acted like every outfit was the newest, greatest thing he had ever seen. If it were even possible, you loved him more for it.

“That’s what I was thinking. I wanted a few things that are a bit more unique, y’know? Even though I’ll probably end up wearing the same things all the time anyway.” You laughed to yourself, eyes focused on the dress. You tilted your body side to side, watching how the fabric flowed around you. “So you definitely like it?”

Barely a minute after his second assurance and you needed another. Harry would happily tell you how beautiful you are a million times if that made you happy.

“Yes.” Harry nodded, “1000%”

“1000% huh?” You grinned at him. He nodded with an equally happy smile. “Okay then. I’m satisfied with my purchases now and I feel justified.” You announced it like you were proud of the outcome, even though you didn’t buy a single item of anything that you tried on for Harry. He fucking loved it though. If you ordered him to buy you a new car or a $20,000 bag he’d do so in a heartbeat then need to fuck you because of how much it turned him on.

“Good.” Harry laughed, sitting back in his chair. “C’mere, baby.” He motioned you over to him, letting you step between his parted before he wrapped his arms around your hips. You smiled down at him, slinging your arms around his neck.

“Hi.”

“Hi.” He smiled, hugging you closer to him. “Are you feeling better after this morning?”

Your smile faltered and suddenly the happiness you got from your little shopping spree disappeared into thin air. It was nothing but a quick distraction, easily ruined by a reality check. You couldn’t blame Harry though. All he did was check in on you.

You nodded and started twirling the hair at the nape of his neck around your fingers. “Yeah… it was nice to have the distraction. There’s just been so much shit going on at the moment and I feel like I haven’t breathed properly for weeks. I just want to have a clear head for once, y’know? Just not think about anything.” you sighed, looking down for a moment.

“I can help with that,” Harry said softly, tilting your head up with his index finger so you were forced to look at him. “You know that right, y/n? I can give you anything you want…” his voice dropped an octave and you were instantly aware that he wasn’t offering a listening ear. Your breath hitched and your body completely tensed up in his arms, “...anything you need.”

“I know…” you whispered, unable to look anywhere except right into his darkening gaze.

“So let me…” he urged, “Do you want me to clear your head for you?...” he scanned your face, sliding the tip of his index finger from your chin down to trace along your neck. It was a trail of fire. Just the path of his fingertip was making you need to claw out of your own skin and he had barely touched you. It felt like he hadn’t properly touched you for weeks. “To take away all your stress and your thoughts… let you be completely relaxed?”

You were practically trembling in his touch. One hand was squeezing your waist and the other was trailing patterns over your neck and your collarbones, down to the modest neckline of your dress. You were dying.

“I can take full control if you want me to, y/n. You just have to say the word.” He flattened his palm against your neck, making you flutter your eyes closed as he enclosed his hand around it. He applied no pressure, just a loose hold to show you what he could do to you. For you. “I can be Harry or Daddy… whatever you need. Anything you need.”

The way his mouth moved at the two clear syllables of ‘Daddy’ had you sweating. He was giving you every choice, every option so that he knew exactly what you needed and wanted. So that he could take the reigns and let you sink into your submissive bliss.

You needed that more than anything else in the entire world.

“I…” your words faltered, even as you forced yourself to look at him. “I need you, Daddy. Please.”

Harry nodded, scanning your face once more as the side of his mouth lifted ever so slightly in the softest smile he could muster. “I love you and I’m so proud of you for everything you’re achieving, y/n. It takes a lot of strength and endurance to be as strong as you have been.” Now it was your heart that was trembling. “Now let me do it for you. You’re gonna be a good girl for me, aren’t you, darling?”

“Yes-yes, thank you.” You nodded eagerly, wanting to sink into his arms so he could take the weight off your feet for you. If he could walk for you, you would’ve let him.

“Good. I want to take you back to Pleasing.”

━━━━━━ ♡ ━━━━━━━ ━━━━━━ ♡ ━━━━━━━

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pure-smut · 2 months

Text

iron wall.

featuring: Takanobu Aone x f!reader

contains: some angst to fluff to smut, happy ending!!, tattoo artist!Aone, social anxiety!reader, thigh riding, fingering(ish), missionary, NOT an accurate representation of getting a tattoo (call it creative liberties)

word count: 3.7k

note: all characters are aged up to 21+!

MDNI | 18+ content

Masterlist

a/n: I'm sorry, I love Aone so much, he's so babygirl!! I'm a sucker for a gentle giant so I needed to get this story down I love him

You’re so excited for your first tattoo. So excited you could throw up, in fact. Oh wait, no, you’re terrified.

The tattoo studio does nothing to soothe your nerves. It’s a small space, seeming all the more cramped for artwork covering every inch of wall and shelf space. You try your hardest not to shrink into yourself.

And then your tattoo artist steps out and a year of social aversion therapy dwindles into nothing.

Takanobu Aone is one of the best artists in the country and you’ve been so, so lucky to get a spot with him. You researched hard, not trusting your first tattoo in the hands of anyone less than perfect. When you saw Aone’s portfolio online, you knew he was the one. Beautiful linework and sweeping designs that seemed to mould to the person’s body. You fell in love with his art.

But his portfolio didn’t have any pictures of him. So when he steps out and greets you with a silent nod, you nearly shrivel up on the spot.

Aone is scary. He’s tall, broad, and – unsurprisingly – coated in tattoos. A seemingly permanent frown is etched on his face, his ice blonde hair cut short. But it’s his eyes – it’s like he’s glaring at you.

“Sorry,” you squeak out before internally scolding yourself.

Sorry?? What are you apologising for? No one’s said anything yet!

If Aone’s confused, he doesn’t show it. He only gestures to an intimidating-looking chair, fitted with an overhead lamp.

Your hands shake so you clench them into fists. You can do this, you tell yourself. This was the whole point of your tattoo. On wobbly legs, you make your way over to the chair and sit down.

Aone looks down at you. You look back up at him. When neither of you says anything, he twirls his finger in the air.

“Oh!”

Idiot, you think to yourself. It’s a back tattoo – he needs to see my back.

You turn around, your chest pressed against the back of the chair, as Aone sits behind you. Even without seeing him, his presence is so large that you feel it. You take a shuddering breath as you hear the buzz of the needle and squeeze your eyes shut.

The tattoo hurts, like a relentless, stinging scratch against your skin. But honestly? You thought it would be worse. Still, the nerves haven’t dissipated yet, and nausea swirls in your stomach. Especially when you feel Aone’s hands on your skin, resting against your back as he works.

“You’re doing well.”

Aone’s voice is so sudden and unexpected that you nearly jump. It takes a second for you to register what he’s said but when you do, warmth rushes to your cheeks.

“Th-thanks,” you stammer out.

“Will music help you to relax?”

His voice is deep and smooth. You’re glad you’re facing away from him because you don’t want him to see the blush in your cheeks just from listening to him speak.

You tell him your favourite songs and he sets up a playlist. By the time he starts up the tattoo again, you are feeling more relaxed. It helps that you don’t need to look him in the face, that you don’t need to mould your reactions to what you think is right. Every so often, Aone will let you know how well you’re sitting for him and each time, it makes your body feel like it’s on fire.

By the time he’s finished, you’re nearly dizzy.

Aone must notice because he offers his hand to help you stand. You take it, gratefully, but keep your eyes averted, too embarrassed to look him in the face.

“First tattoos are hard,” he says solemnly and you’re glad he thinks it’s the tattoo that’s had an effect on you and not him.

Aone hands you his card as you pay up. It has a list of tattoo care instructions as well as his phone number and socials.

“Any problems, contact me,” he says.

You finally look up at him. What you had thought had been a glare before now looks completely different. Aone’s eyes are sharp but they’re kind, his face serious but concerned. Under the intensity of his gaze, you find it suddenly hard to breathe.

You want to thank him, to tell him you’ll be happy to contact him if anything comes up. To say anything normal at all.

But an iron wall wraps around your chest. You don’t want to say anything stupid or embarrassing. So you give a short nod and leave without saying anything at all.

It’s only a few days before your tattoo starts to itch. You diligently cream it as Aone’s card instructed you but the position of the tattoo means you can’t reach all of it. There’s a patch in the middle that’s neglected and so, so goddamn itchy.

After all the research, effort and money spent, you desperately don’t want your new tattoo to heal badly. But you have no one to ask for help. It’s your own fault, you know. You’ve spent the years since you left home for college isolating yourself from everyone. Too worried about saying the wrong thing or doing something embarrassing. Too concerned over whether people are laughing at you instead of with you.

And now you’re stuck with an itchy tattoo that you can’t fully reach.

Aone’s card sits innocently on your desk, almost taunting you. It takes another two days before you gather up the courage to tap out a message to Aone.

He responds within minutes with instructions to come to the studio.

That’s how you end up back in the chair, your favourite songs playing again, too embarrassed to look behind you at Aone.

“The itch is worse than the pain,” he says, rubbing cool, soothing cream gently over your tattoo.

Despite yourself, you smile. Maybe it’s your favourite music in the background, maybe it’s the fact you don’t need to look at him. Maybe it’s the feel of his gloved fingers being so gentle on your skin. For once, you don’t overthink before you speak.

“The pain wasn’t so bad after a while,” you say quietly. “But the itching goes on forever.”

Aone chuckles. It catches you off guard – you wonder what he looks like when he’s smiling.

You sit in comfortable silence for a while.

“This is so embarrassing…” you mumble to yourself.

“What is?”

You startle, not realising he heard you. Your cheeks burn.

“O-oh… just… y’know, all of this,” you say clumsily.

“All of what?”

“I-” A lump appears in your throat. You realise how stupid you sound. “I can’t reach my tattoo.”

A puff of air escapes Aone’s nose.

“Not embarrassing,” he says. “I fainted during my first tattoo. That is embarrassing.”

The image of Aone – broad, muscled, serious-faced Aone – fainting during a tattoo is so unexpected you snort with laughter.

“You didn’t!”

“I did,” he says gravely. “I was too nervous to eat breakfast so my blood sugar was low.”

Aone withdraws his hands to lean in close. You can feel the warmth radiating off him on the back of your neck and shoulder. When he speaks, his breath tickles your cheek.

“They had to give me a lollipop.”

You burst out laughing, clapping a hand over your mouth. Aone chuckles and stands, snapping his gloves off. You rise with him, still giggling, and get a glimpse of his smile for the first time.

It’s small, just an uptick at the corner of his mouth, but you can’t stop looking.

“Next time you feel embarrassed, remember the lollipop,” Aone says with a firm nod.

You grin, meeting his eyes. Inside you, a small chip skitters down the iron wall.

A crack.

Aone tells you to come back every day at the same time for a week, until your tattoo heals. You find yourself looking forward to it and you end up chatting long after he’s finishing creaming your back. You wonder if this is it – you’ve beaten the insecure demon inside your head.

Until one day you don’t.

It’s the last day you’re scheduled to visit Aone’s studio. Maybe that’s the reason why a stab of icy fear lodges itself in your heart every time you try and open the door to leave.

You stand at your front door, key in the lock, but your hand is frozen. Your breathing turns ragged and your vision swims. You can’t turn the key. You can’t leave your home. Your sanctuary. The only safe space you know.

Except Aone’s studio.

Except Aone.

You know you’re going to be late but still, you can’t bring yourself to leave. With shaking hands, you message Aone, apologising and saying you won’t make it. He messages back instantly.

Are you okay?

You don’t know what prompts you to respond honestly. Maybe it’s the exhaustion from fighting the anxiety in your head. Maybe it’s because Aone has always been sincere with you. Maybe it’s because you don’t have to look at him when you respond.

Maybe the iron wall is breaking.

No, you type back.

He asks for your address, saying he’ll come to you. After chewing your thumbnail down to the quick, you give it and throw your phone onto the other side of the bed.

You barely have the energy to drag yourself from your bed when the doorbell rings. You know you should feel embarrassed opening the door in your pyjamas, hair unbrushed and eyes puffy with no sleep. But when Aone steps in, face serious, and pulls out a lollipop, the only thing you feel is relief.

You burst into tears as Aone pulls you into his arms, pressing you against his chest. He’s firm and warm and holds you tight. He doesn’t say anything. He lets you soak the front of his shirt with your tears.

When you’ve cried yourself dry, your sobs dwindling into sniffles, Aone pulls back to peer down at you.

“Food?”

You spend the day with takeout, watching movies together on your laptop in bed. You sneak glances at him every so often, admiring his profile, and have to quickly look away every time he notices. It should be embarrassing… but you know he’s looking at you too. You can feel his intense gaze when you’re watching the movie, can feel him watching you when you get up to go to the bathroom.

When you return, instead of lying side-by-side, you turn your back to him, pulling the laptop in front of you. Aone turns to spoon you, wrapping one large arm around your stomach. You melt into him, immediately relaxed.

It reminds you of being in his chair, faced away from him but knowing he’s there.

“I’m sorry,” you say quietly, your voice nearly drowned out by the movie. “I know I get too nervous and say weird stuff.”

“What weird stuff?” You can’t see him but you can hear the frown in his voice.

“Like…” You swallow past the lump in your throat. “Like when I first met you, I didn’t even say hi. I said sorry, for some weird reason.”

Your mouth goes dry as you recall your first embarrassing memory with Aone. The one that still keeps you up at night as you replay it, thinking about how awkward you looked and how weird he must think you are.

“That wasn’t weird,” Aone says, breaking you out of your thoughts. “People think I’m scary. They don’t sit next to me on the train and they apologise when they meet me.”

You blink at the laptop, twisting slightly so you can look at Aone. He looks back at you.

“They do?”

He nods.

“You’re not weird. You’re normal.”

Aone says it with absolute sincerity. You think on this for a moment before fully turning, facing him. Aone settles his hand on your waist, his sharp eyes locked on yours.

You’re normal.

A rush of relief floods through you and your eyes water, nearly bursting into tears again. Aone notices because he tightens his grip on you, his hand on standby to brush away any tears.

“I’m okay,” you reassure him. “I’m okay.”

And it’s true. It’s the most okay you’ve felt in a long time. A flood of affection clouds your mind and you look up at him to smile.

“Thank you for rescuing me today,” you tell him.

“Always,” Aone says seriously.

It’s only one word but it steals your breath. You feel like you’re falling. You grip onto the front of his shirt, anchoring yourself.

One word and your iron wall crumbles.

You tilt your head up until Aone’s face is only inches from yours. You’re offering yourself up, offering your heart on a platter, open and vulnerable. You close your eyes and wait, blood rushing in your ears.

Aone moves his hand up from your waist to cup your face. His skin is hot against yours and you can feel his heart beating through his chest.

“Always,” he whispers once more before he closes the gap between you.

Aone presses his lips softly against yours. Your hands snake around his torso, feeling the hard muscle of his back. His lips part yours gently, cautiously, wary not to pressure you too much. You let him, meeting his tongue with your own and melting into him.

Aone uses one arm to wrap around your back, pulling your body flush to him as his other hand grips your thigh. He tugs your leg over his, nestling his thick thigh between your legs, and pressing against your mound. You gasp lightly into his mouth.

Aone pulls back, eyes opening.

“Is this okay?” he asks, searching your face for any sign you’re uncomfortable.

“Yeah,” you breathe. “It’s… it feels good.”

You try hard not to grind against his thigh but when he leans down to kiss you again, you find your hips moving on their own. His firm muscle pressed against your clothed pussy makes your clit throb with need. You haven’t felt this turned on by anyone in a long time, your sex drive long since evaporated. But Aone is awakening something inside you, a heat in your stomach unfurling.

You hold onto his shoulder, solid as a rock, and grind against his thigh.

Aone trails his hand down to your hip, his grip gentle but firm.

“Are you sure?” he murmurs against your lips, reluctant to break the kiss.

“Mhmm.” You catch his bottom lip lightly between your teeth. “I’m sure.”

Aone hardens his grip on your hip, guiding you as you rub your clothed pussy against his thigh. The friction is delicious, sending little sparks up through your body and soaking the crotch of your panties and pyjama shorts. You’re forced to break the kiss to bury your face in his chest, whimpering.

He’s bringing you close to the edge, so, so close. But it’s not enough.

“More,” you practically beg him. “I need more. Please.”

Aone grunts and rolls you onto your back, slotting himself between your legs. He’s large enough that you’re spread lewdly beneath him, thighs open. It would normally make you flustered – embarrassed – but it doesn’t.

Because it’s okay. It’s Aone.

He looks at your with stars in his eyes as his hand reaches down, sliding under the waistband of your shorts and panties. Your hips buck as his fingers find your swollen clit, slippery with your arousal. He traces small, featherlight touches around your sensitive bud. Aone knows his own strength and he’s always cautious of being too rough. He watches your face carefully to see your reaction, applying slightly more pressure until your nails sink into his biceps.

“There!” you gasp. “Fuck, right there. I’m so close.”

Aone listens, his cock straining against his jeans. You would normally feel your cheeks burn under the intensity of anyone’s gaze, let alone Aone’s, but you’re too caught up in the pleasure he’s giving you to care. His fingers are relentless, keeping up a steady pace, no faster or slower than exactly what you need.

When your back arches and your mouth falls open, Aone dips his head to swallow your moan, kissing you deeply through your orgasm, his fingers never stopping. It’s only when you pull away, too sensitive to continue, that he withdraws his hand.

But he can’t stop kissing you. Your soft lips and the taste of the lollipop he brought you still on your tongue. Aone knows you’ve opened yourself to him, he knows you’ve summoned every ounce of courage you have. He feels like he has a baby bird in his hands and he’s scared to hold you too tight. To crush the precious thing you’ve given him.

So when you come down from your high, he makes to roll off you, not thinking of himself or his throbbing cock.

You stop him, hands on his biceps and wrapping your legs around his hips.

“I want you,” you whisper, voice hoarse from moaning. “All of you.”

Aone searches your face for any uncertainty. He only sees your eyes alight, holding his gaze firmly. He thinks back to your first arrival in his studio, when he couldn’t even tell what your face really looked like, you kept your eyes so averted. The corner of his mouth upticks with pride.

You reach up to wrap one hand around the nape of his neck, carding your fingers through his short, white-blonde hair as your other hand reaches down to his jeans. He helps you unbutton them, tugging them down along with his boxers and throwing them both off the side of the bed. Aone straightens to pull his shirt over his head, tossing it to the side.

Your eyes widen at the sight of him. Tattoos decorate his thick torso, artwork following the curves and dips of his body. You sink your teeth into your bottom lip, not even hiding how absolutely, completely attracted to him you are.

Aone’s expression doesn’t change much but his eyes glint and you know he’s pleased by your reaction. He reaches down, hooking his thumbs under the hem of your pyjama top and tugging it off. He gazes down at you, face soft, his eyes tracing over your body.

You’d normally be fighting the urge to cover yourself but you don’t feel the need to do that with Aone. You want him to look at you.

Aone leans down to pepper soft kisses down your neck, to your breasts. One large hand massages your tit, tweaking the nipple between his thumb and forefinger. It’s like your nipple is directly connected to your clit, making it throb with every touch. Aone sucks your other nipple, mouth hot against your skin as his teeth lightly graze you. It’s electrifying. You can feel yourself getting wetter, a scorching heat between your legs.

You need him inside you.

You tug on the roots of his hair gently, pulling his face back up to yours. Aone kisses you deep and slow, one hand reaching down to line his cock up with your entrance. You can feel the fat mushroom tip nudging between your folds. You pull your knees up, wrapping your legs around his hips to give him better access.

Aone pulls back from the kiss. You chase his lips with your own but he cups your cheek, holding you away.

“I want to see your face,” he says.

He locks eyes with you and pushes himself inside.

Your mouth falls open and your brows scrunch in the middle as Aone slides his cock into your tight hole. You’re more than wet enough for him but his cock is as thick as the rest of him, stretching you with a burn that’s half pleasure, half pain. You whimper, eyes squeezing shut as Aone shallowly pumps himself inside you, going a little deeper each time. Each stroke of his cock sets your nerves on fire, sparks running through your whole body to the tips of your fingers and toes.

“Holy shit,” you grit out. “You’re – ah! – You’re so b-big.”

“Are you okay?” Aone stops still. “Are you in pain?”

You shake your head, wrapping your legs tighter around him.

“Don’t stop,” you beg him.

He gives a short nod and keeps going, slowly working himself deeper until he’s bottomed out. Aone waits there for a while, letting you adjust to the size of him. You’re desperate for more friction, your pussy clenching him tight.

“You…” He collapses onto his forearms, burying his face in your neck.

His hand tangles in your hair at the back of your head, holding you to him.

“You feel so fucking good,” he breathes. “You’re doing so well.”

Aone’s praise sends a thrill up your spine, so reminiscent of the first time you met. He presses his mouth against the shell of your ear.

“I’m going to move, okay?” His voice is hoarse.

You nod and he starts to pull back, keeping his body pressed against yours. It should feel smothering, his large body covering yours, but instead it feels safe. Secure.

Aone keeps a steady pace, not pulling out all the way before thrusting back into you. Your greedy pussy pulling him back in every time, your plush walls squeezing him, not wanting to let him go. His cock rubs against the sensitive spot inside you, the trimmed hair at the base stroking delicious friction against your clit. The combination is indescribable. It doesn’t take long for your eyes to roll back again, your orgasm building faster than you can register.

Aone can feel it. The way your tight pussy gets even tighter, the whimpers you make from the back of your throat, the way your thighs squeeze his hips. He can’t get enough of it. He wants to last as long as possible so he can stay here forever. Stay with you, like this, forever. But the way you’re gripping him, milking his cock, makes it impossible.

“I’m gonna cum, angel,” he groans. “Cum with me.”

His words are enough to tip you over the edge. Stars burst behind your eyes. You cry out his name as your thighs tremble and your toes curl, creaming on his cock. Aone grunts, half-moaning, as buries his cock inside you, thick ropes of cum coating your walls.

You hold him close, not wanting him to leave even as his cock softens inside you. Aone stays where he is, wanting to prolong this moment as long as he can. He presses gentle kisses against your neck, hugging you close to him.

“You’re perfect,” he mumbles in between kisses. “Thank you.”

You smile and catch his lips with your own.

“Always,” you whisper back.

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#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu smut #aone x reader #aone smut #aone x you #aone x y/n #date tech x reader #date tech x you #takanobu aone x reader #aone takanobu x reader

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privatehousesanatomy · 5 months

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House X /maybe fem?)Reader where House falls in love with a singer he just cured. Maybe while checking if she can sing again and he plays the piano while she sings or something? I think that could be a cute one, because everytime I see House making Music, he seems so...emotional and vulnerable. :3

ONE MORE SONG - gregory house x fem!reader

this is a cute idea! i hope i was able to bring your vision to life <3 also, thanks so much for being my first request, i had a lot of fun writing this!

slight fluff ( it is house, after all )

🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷

you'd heard about vocal chord injuries all the time. singers strained their voices too hard during performances, especially as they got older, but you were still young. you did everything you could to protect your voice, and yet during rehearsal you found yourself unable to make a sound. at first you thought maybe you were coming down with something, but when a week passed and you had no other symptoms besides no voice, you decided to seek medical help.

there wasn't a single doctor who was able to help you. they ruled out everything from strep to laryngitis, and you even had tests done to rule out cancer. everything came back clean. you were suddenly deemed a medical mystery with no voice.

your symptoms began progressing shortly after that. you were having difficulties breathing and swallowing, and any last remnants of your voice that you might have had were slowly diminishing as well.

princeton-plainsboro teaching hospital was your last ditch effort in figuring out what was wrong with you. doctor gregory house claimed to be one of the best diagnosticians in the country, if not the world, so you were putting a lot of faith in him to figure out what was wrong with you. you were warned right from the jump that you likely wouldn't meet the man in charge of your medical file, and it was something you came to terms with. however, he surprised everyone by taking a major interest in you as a patient rather than you as a puzzle. music was a hobby of his, and it wasn't often that his patients shared that hobby.

the first time you met house, you weren't sure how to feel. he was this grumpy, older man who walked with a cane and looked to be the epitome of the word "miserable". he was sarcastic and rude, not giving a damn about how he treated his employees, nurses, or even you. and yet there was something about him that you couldn't get enough of. almost as if you could see through the facade he put up.

your diagnosis was bilateral vocal cord paralysis, though you were lucky that it didn't kill you. there were a few close calls, but they were able to reverse the paralysis with surgery, and for the last year, you've been going to voice therapy to strengthen your vocal cords and improve your breath control while speaking. you were doing amazing, and on the one year anniversary of your surgery, you actually had a follow up appointment with house's team. it was rare that they followed up with patients, but it was also rare for house to have taken such an interest in the case.

"house, where did you get a piano?" doctor cameron asked as she watched her boss suddenly wheeling a piano into the office.

"don't ask," house replied, pushing it into the middle of the room and getting it set up. he then turned to you. "come here."

"what for?" you asked, very confused as to what he was doing.

"for a sandwich," he rolled his eyes. "obviously i want to make sure your vocal cords are healing properly," he added. so, despite your apprehension about his methods, you approached the piano and sat down on the little bench. house sat down beside you. "you think you can still sing?" he asked.

"i don't know...i haven't really tried," you admitted.

"well, you're going to now," house said, starting to play the tune of one of your songs on thr piano. he'd really gone as far as to look into your music and pick one of your songs.

despite being nervous, you started to sing the words, and you quickly realized that it wasn't as hard as you thought it would be. sure, it didn't sound near as perfect as it used to, but considering you'd gone through bilateral vocal cord paralysis and survived, it sounded pretty damn good. you couldn't help but notice that house was really getting into it, and you could have sworn you saw a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

you two had become rather...close during your time in his care a year ago. you two bonded over your shared love for music, and during that time you really got to see a different side of the man he presented himself to be. in fact, it wouldn't be a stretch of the imagination to say that you two even developed feelings for each other, but unfortunately nothing ever came of it. when you were discharged from the hospital, you were also discharged out of his life, and over the last year, house couldn't stop thinking about you. that was why he scheduled this "follow up" appointment with you. he never saw his patients after they were out of his care, but he realized that if he wanted a chance, he was going to have to take it now.

when the song ended, he glanced at you before the rest of his team, now shooing them out of the office to make themselves useful either within the clinic or with their current medical mystery. it was really just a ploy to get a moment alone with you, and once you two were alone, he turned his attention back to you. god, you could get lost staring into those bright blue eyes of his, and he seemed to pick up on that.

"what?" he asked, breaking the silence between the two of you.

"oh...nothing," you replied, feeling a little flustered. his eyes flickered down to your lips, and he drew in a deep breath.

"you know, i don't ever follow up with my patients," he told you.

"you don't?" you asked, and he shook his head. "then why me?"

"because i haven't been able to stop thinking about you since you walked out of this hospital," he admitted.

"oh come on...i couldn't have been that special," you replied, raising an eyebrow.

"i've never...i've never connected with a patient like this. i've never felt like this before," house said. you were quiet for a minute, trying to process what he was saying.

"would it be wrong for me to say that i feel the same about you?" you ask finally, and there was that little smile of his trying not to show itself again. he didn't speak, but instead leaned his head in and pressed his lips against yours. you could have melted against his lips, and you were surprised at how well they fit together. after a few moments, though, you pulled away to breathe.

"i feel like we're breaking so many rules right now," you laugh, and house finally cracked a real smile.

"it's what i do best," he said, pulling you in for another kiss.

#house md #gregory house #greg house #hatecrimes md #fanfic #hugh laurie #one shot #gregory house x reader #gregory house x fem!reader #writeblr #house md fanfiction #houseblr

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callsign-magnolia · 2 months

Text

Undiagnosed // Ch. 21

Mature Content 18+

Jake Seresin x Neurodivergent OC

Summary: Katie Blair grew up trying to be the perfect daughter. She always struggled to be the prim and proper little girl her parents wanted. Big personality as a kid, but now at 25, she's the shy admiral's daughter who just keeps her head down and tries to get through law school. So what happens when she's had enough and with help from a certain Lieutenant, she gets out.

Warnings: Emotional abuse, trauma response, abusive parents, smut, mentions of thoughts of suicide.

Word Count: 3.6k

Chapter 20 | Masterlist

“Who do you think you are-” “Shut up!” I yelled as I turned to face her. She closed the door a shocked look on her face. “How fucking dare you.” I said as I pointed at her. “How dare I?” I nodded. “Yeah. As I grew up I realized what a shitty mother you were but I never expected this kind of low from you!” She was reeling. “Shitty mother? You should be grateful to us! We raised you with only the best-” “AND I WAS MISERABLE!” I screamed. “You raised me with so much fucking trauma! You want to know why I was so ‘emotional’? Maybe you should read these!” I tossed the papers at her, the paper clip keeping them together. She grabbed them and within a second her face fell. “How did you get these?” She asked. “My doctor gave them to me when I went to see her today. Asked me of I was taking anything for my ADHD and depression.” I’m sure my face was tinged red, showing how angry I am and I hope she understands the severity of this. “You didn’t tell me.” I seethed. “You didn’t tell me when you knew of ways to help me.” I said as I stepped closer. “Instead you let me suffer and struggle and be made fun of and called the weird kid my entire childhood.” I was in her face by the time I finished. “You let me suffer and consider suicide at fucking thirteen years old when I could’ve been in therapy and on medications to make me function better!” “They only gave us this diagnosis to shove pills down your throat! You don’t have any of this! You were and are just a bad misbehaved child! You needed what our parents gave and that was a good ass whooping! I messed up with you because I was too soft on you.” She stepped past me and I was shocked.

“Too soft on me?! Smacking me in the face was too soft? Daddy beating the hell out of me with a belt was too soft?! You’re sick in the head!” I said and she scoffed. “I did what I had to do-” “No, you did what you thought was easy! Because you couldn’t buck up and be a decent person or a good mother! Because having patience for your child was too hard!” “WE COULDN’T HANDLE YOU!” She screamed in response. “YOU WERE THE WORST BEHAVED CHILD I HAD EVER MET!” It shouldn’t have but it stung. “We couldn’t handle you! I couldn’t stand to be in the same room with you! Especially when you were a baby! You would just cry and cry and I almost just stopped taking care of you all together but I knew if you died your father and I would be in prison!” My chest heaved at her words. It hit me hard how little she truly cared. I walked over and snatched the papers as a coughing fit hit me. “Maybe I’ll get lucky and you’ll drop dead. It’s the least you deserve after all these years of torture and abuse.” She laughed loudly at my words. “I’ll be here good and long after you’re dead. If I’m lucky I’ll watch them lower your casket.” I stopped in my tracks at her words. “No, you won’t. Because now I have a happy life and I’m away from the misery you’ve inflicted on me!” I said as I turned away from her and headed for the door. “Oh by the way, I was at the doctors for a flu diagnosis. Hopefully one of your lungs will collapse and you’ll suffer on the floor.” Her face dropped. My mom rarely got sick but she’s in her sixties so she’s more susceptible. “You little bitch!” She rushed forward and raised her hand but my fingers wrapped around her wrist, effectively stopping her. My free hand came back before my own palm connected with her face and she stumbled back.

My chest heaved as I looked at her down on the floor, holding her face as she breathed heavily. “It hurts doesn’t it?” I asked and she moved her hand, revealing a red mark. “All the times you and daddy hit me, it didn’t just hurt physically. I sat there and I wondered what I could’ve done to deserve it, what made you hate me. But now I know all I had to do was be born. Don’t worry, you’ll never see or hear from me again. You can start pretending I never existed.” With that I walked out the front door, slamming it on my way out. I got in the truck and immediately left. I picked up my medicine before going home. As soon as I was home I grabbed all my stuff and went inside. When I got the door closed and latched everything hit me at once. I leaned against the door as the sobs hit and sunk down till my knees were against my chest. I almost feel like it would be better if I did something to make them hate me, but simply my mere existence made my mother want to go as far as kill me. Having my mother confirm they never loved me hit hard and I feel like my heart is being split apart. Eventually I got up and took a shower, knowing it may make me feel a little better. Once I was out I dried off, took my medicine and crawled into the spare bed in the guest room. I wanted to do my best to keep Jake from getting sick and that meant sleeping in here for a while. My mind raced with all the thoughts and memories of my parents, how I never truly did anything, they just hated me. Tears ran down my face, soaking my neck and pillow as I cried myself to sleep.

Fingers ran through my hair and roused me from my sleep. “Hey, darlin’. Why you in here?” Jake whispered, leaning down to kiss my temple. “I didn’t wanna get you sick.” I mumbled. “I appreciate that. What did the doctor say?” Everything came rushing back and tears came to my eyes. I sat straight up, keeping the covers against my chest as I looked away from him. “I-I do have the flu.” I said as I rubbed my eyes. He hummed and kissed my bare shoulder. “I’ll make some soup for dinner.” I shook my head. “You don’t have to. I’m not hungry.” He raised a brow at me. “Are you sure?” I nodded, giving him a small smile. “I’m sure.” He sighed and kissed my head again. “Okay, you’ll holler if you need me right?” I nodded as I laid back down and he stood. “I love you, Jake.” I whispered as he walked towards the door. “I love you too, Katie.” He closed the door behind him and my tears came back. I leaned over to my purse in the chair next to the bed and pulled out my diagnosis papers. I read over them the words depression, attention deficit hyperactive disorder, and autism glared at me from the white paper. If Jake saw this would he change his mind? Would he no longer love me? The thought terrified me. I couldn’t lose him. He’s a big part of me figuring out who I am without my parents, I’m not sure I could turn around and figure out who I am without him. “I won’t tell him. He can’t know.” I said as I stuffed the papers back in my purse, laying down again. “I can’t tell him. “ I muttered, fingers gripping my pillow tightly.

Two days later I still felt like shit and I haven’t eaten. “Katie darlin’, you have to eat. You’re starving yourself right now.” Jake muttered as he came into the guest room. “Jake, I’m just not hungry.” I was sitting up in bed doing some school work and this was the third time today he’s asked me to eat. I’ve been drinking a bunch of water but I had no appetite. “You’re not going to get any better just sitting there and not eating. You’re only gonna get weaker and it’ll take you longer to get over this.” I huffed, closing my eyes. “Jake. I am not hungry. Now please, stop pestering me about it.” I said. “Katie, you have to eat.” I slammed the lid of my laptop closed. “Jake! I am not hungry! Now for the love of God JUST LEAVE ME ALONE!” I yelled and he stepped back in surprise. I took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. “Jake, I'm sorry. I just don’t feel good and I just want to be left alone.” I set my laptop on the table and laid back down, my back to him and the door. He sighed before leaving and closing the door and more tears streamed down my face. Another day passed by, it was almost time for Jake to come home from work and I was in the kitchen finally trying to make myself something to eat.

I had decided to just do some noodles with a little chicken and tomato sauce. The chicken was already cooked so I just tossed it into the pan with the sauce. I leaned against the counter reading as I waited and when the timer went off for the noodles I heard the front door open. I grabbed the pot and walked it to the sink to drain them but as I went to tilt it I lost my grip and the pot went into the floor spilling noodles and boiling water everywhere. “Katie?” Jake sounded concerned and came into the kitchen. I just stared at my food on the ground and everything within me broke. “Dammit!” I screamed, grabbing the pot and slamming it down onto the counter. “I can’t even just make fucking pasta!” I felt like all of my emotions were just gonna explode out of me. “What dumbass can’t make pasta?!” My hands went into my hair as tears burst from my eyes. I felt like I was having a complete breakdown. “Katie, darlin’. Your feet!” My feet had been covered in boiling water but I honestly couldn’t bring myself to care. Jake rushed over, lifting me till I was sat on the counter. “Oh, Katie, your feet.” They were an ugly shade of red and I could feel them throbbing. Jake cut the sink on and turned me till he could stick my feet under the cool water. “Stay there while I clean this up.” I just stared at my feet in the sink. Jake cleaned up my mess and took my chicken off the stove before turning to me. He cut the water off and grabbed a paper towel to dry my feet. “I’m sorry.”

He looked at me with raised brows. “Why are you sorry?” He asked as I started to cry. “You just got home and I made a mess and I just let you clean it up. I should’ve stopped you and done it myself. God I’m such an awful person! I can’t even cook for myself without making a huge ass mess and I’ve been so mean to you when all you’ve tried to do is help me and-” I was startled when his large hands gently grabbed my face. “Hey, hey. Where is all this coming from?” He asked as he stared into my eyes and I started sobbing. I was sobbing hard and he just pulled me into him and held me. I clutched to him like a child as my tears soaked his clothes. His hand rubbed my back and he whispered soothing words to me as he held me. “I’m sorry!” I cried into his shoulder. “You have nothing to be sorry for.” He held me for a few more minutes until I calmed down and I sat up and looked him in the eyes. “I went and saw my mother a few days ago.” His eyes widened and his face turned red. “Katie, why would you do that?” He didn’t sound mad, but he looked it. “I-I had to confront her. I couldn’t go the rest of my life without talking to her.” I spit out, hoping to ease his anger but I realized I had brought up a whole other situation with it. “Confront her about what?” He asked, confusion all over his face. I bit my lip, not knowing how to tell him. “Katie, what is going on? Is this part of why you’ve been acting weird the last few days?” He asked as his hands slid from my face to my neck.

I slid off the counter and walked away, up to my room and he followed close behind. “Katie.” He asked as he stopped in the doorway. I had the paper in my hands and I stared at it. “When I went to the doctor I discovered a few things about myself. Things my parents never told me. N-no matter how you feel about this I’ll respect it. If you want to break up we can, if you want me to leave I will-” “Darlin’.” He walked over and grabbed my hand, pulling me to sit on the bed next to him. “You need to talk to me, Katie.” I sighed, holding the paper out to him. I buried my face in my hands as he read it. I’m not sure how long we sat in silence for but when I sat up his arms were hanging down between his legs as he stared straight ahead. “Jake?” I asked. “I can’t believe this.” He muttered, looking down at the paper again. “Jake, I’m sorry-” “You’re sorry?!” He jumped up and I got scared, he stood over me and I could swear smoke was coming out of his ears. “How can you be sorry when you have nothing to be sorry for?!” He asked and I was confused. “Your parents, the two people who were supposed to love you and take care of you kept something this big from you? Your entire life?” He asked, staring at the paper again. “Yeah.” I muttered, looking down at my hands, not wanting to meet his gaze but I yelped when I was grabbed and he pulled me into him. He squeezed me and I stood still for a second before hugging him back.

“Katie, I swear to you, your parents will never be able to hurt you again.” I pulled away, meeting his gaze. “Yo-you don’t think I’m weird or want to break up?” I asked and he set the papers down before pulling me into him again, one arm around my waist, the other cradling my face. “Katie, I fell in love with you. Everything about you. Every little quirk in your personality, all of it. Katie, all of this is what makes you you and I fell in love with every bit of it. Now there’s just a name for all of it.” Tears soaked my cheeks as I bit my lip. “I love you, too.” I said before squeezing him to me. He held me as I cried, rubbing my back. “Is this what you confronted your mom about?” I nodded, wiping my eyes. “I was so angry when I found out I barged my way into her house and yelled at her.” He cracked a small smile. “And I hit her.” I confessed and his face fell. “I’m going to assume she hit you first?” I tilted my head side to side. “She attempted but I stopped her and then hit her.” My face burned with a blush. “Well it was self defense.” I hummed as my eyes locked on the door behind him. “I asked her if it hurt. I hope it did. I want them both to hurt like I have my entire life.” Jake’s face fell and he tilted my chin so I was looking at him. “They’ll get what they deserve Katie, but it’s also not good to wish harm on people.” I knew he was right, it would only tank my mental health. “You’re right.” I muttered and he held the back of my neck, pulling me towards him till his lips pressed against my forehead. “Why don’t you go put some burn cream on your feet, crawl in bed with some socks, and I’ll make your food and bring it to you.” I shook my head. “My feet don’t hurt, and I can make my food. You just got home from work-” He stopped me, shaking his head. “I just got home from work and I want to make you food. You’re exhausted from being sick and constantly thinking about what’s on these papers.” He said as he shook said papers. “I want you to relax and finally get some rest.” I sighed, giving in. “Okay.” I said and he smiled. “And you need to go get in our bed, I haven’t been sleeping right with you in here.” I pursed my lips. “Jake, I’m still sick.” I said and he shrugged. “If I haven’t gotten it yet, I won’t now.” I sighed again and nodded. “Okay. Where’s the burn cream?” I asked and he grinned. “Under the cabinet, in the first aid kit.” I nodded, trudging out.

I did as he asked and put the cream on my feet and slid some fuzzy socks over them before crawling in bed. I curled up facing Jake’s side, his smell wafting into my nose and I quickly drifted off. “Darlin’.” I immediately woke up, looking up at him as he held a tray. “Sorry, it was so easy to fall asleep.” I said as I sat up. He set the tray next to me and chuckled. “You’re exhausted. I reheated some of that tomato soup you had in the freezer, and made you a grilled cheese.” He said before kissing my temple. “Mm, thank you.” I muttered. I set the tray in my lap as he stood from kneeling on his side of the bed. “I’ll be back, gonna get you something to drink.” I just hummed as I started eating. It was good and I could already tell I was starting to feel better. After a minute Jake came back in with ginger ale and a second tray. “Here.” He sat the drink on my tray and sat next to me before kicking off his shoes. I watched as he wandered around the room, grabbing a pair of sweatpants and kicking off his jeans and longhorn shirt before slipping the sweatpatns on and crawling in bed with me. “Thank you for this, Jake.” I said as I leaned back against the pillows. “You’re welcome, darlin’.” He grabbed my hand, kissing it gently before letting go and grabbing the remote. “Okay, let’s see what movie we can find.”

The following week I was much better and went back to school although I was shaking on Tuesday for clinicals. “Hey, glad to see your feeling better.” I was startled by Crystal’s voice as I walked into the break room. “Oh, yeah. The flu really kicked my butt.” I pulled out the breakfast sanwich Jake made for me before he went to work and sat across from her. “Last time I had it I didn’t think I was gonna make it out alive.” She said and chuckled. “Thankfully mine wasn’t that bad.” I told her. “Well let me know when you’re done and we can get started.” I furrowed my brows in confusion. “Get started?” She nodded. “Yeah, you’re with me. I was the only one who didn’t get one of you so you’re with me.” She smiled at me and I felt so relieved. “Oh, thank god. I was scared I was going to be paired up with someone mean.” I laughed. I had heard from Starla that the nurse she was paired up with was awful towards her and she left here crying on the second day of clinicals. Crystal chuckled and shook her head. “No, just me. Meet me out at the nurse’s station once your done.” I nodded and continued eating. Soon others filed in including Annie. “I’m so glad you’re back. Brooke and I are studying at her apartment tonight, we wnated to know if you wanted to join?” I nodded. “Let me see how I feel after today and I’ll let you know before we leave.” She gave me a thumbs up before walking out.

Once I was done I cleaned up and walked out towards the nurse’s station. Most of the rooms were dark and empty as I walked by and rounded the corner to see Crystal in front of a computer. “Okay, have a seat.” She said as she rolled a chair over. “Kim is going to review all of our patients with us.” I nodded and sat down with my notepad and pen. Once we got everything I blinked rapidly. “You okay?” Kim asked and I nodded. “Yeah, it’s just a lot to take in and I already feel like I’ve missed so much.” Kim and Crystal both nodded. “Well better get used to it sweetheart. It’s all fast paced around here.” I nodded and she smiled before standing. “I’m getting out of here. I have the next three days off and I’m only going to use them to sleep.” Crystal and I both said our goodbye’s before she stood. “So, you wanna go check some vitals with me?” I nodded rapidly, excited to get started.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Taglist: @graceandpursuit @cherrycola27 @daisydaisygoose @rosiahills22 @deanoheartspie @cornishkat @high-speed-r @fogle97 @mygyn @ohgodnotagainn @emma8895eb @senjoritanana @kmc1989 @sandaltoesocks @dempy @itsdesiree86 @sunderland-6 @jstarr86 @brooke-stinson @rachkon @topguncultleader @bethbunnyy @topgun-imagines @clancycucumber230 @seitmai @kkrenae @djs8891 @shanimallina87 @wildxwidow @eugene-emt-roe @hisredheadedgoddess28 @littlewhiterose @formulapierre @wade-wilsons-chew-toy @bethabear @halstead-severide-fan @gg-trini @memeorydotcom @schreksdoubledeckerhomechecker @inthestars-underthesun @praline357 @fanboyluvr @greaser9902 @felinegrate @lemmons1998 @thegoddessc @lynnevanss @daddyslittlevillain

#undiagnosed #top gun maverick #jake hangman seresin #hangman #adhd #jake seresin fic #jake seresin fanfiction #jake seresin #jake seresin top gun #top gun hangman #jake Seresin x adhd OC

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yourclumsyguardianangel · 11 months

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the seven + a few others future headcanons

percy:

becomes a high school teacher

teaches high school marine biology (idk how it is in other schools but when we hit sophomore year we got to choose different bio classes ie: marine bio, ag bio, med bio + regular bio)

also teaches the mythology elective and is the swim team coach

annabeth:

we already know this queen is an architect with obvious inspiration from greek architecture

learns how to make blue food for percy and their kids from sally

has traveled all over the world looking at different architecture

learns the basics of many languages so shes able to communicate with the locals

her and leo team up to build a small school near camp half-blood for year rounders so everyone can learn consistently but dw they get summers off

piper:

love her but shes a nepo baby

she doesnt act like it tho

”are you tristan mcleans daughter?” “who?”

loves her dad to bits but does not like being seen out in public by the paparazzi

marries shel, they dont have kids tho, neither of them want to bring any into the world especially with america’s downfall and the government erasing women and poc rights

is basically leos big sister atp

leo:

him and calypso dont last, maybe a year and a half in they split bc calypso wants to explore the world and leo is very emotionally unstable and calypso has a hard time understanding

they end on good terms but dont ever talk unless its with a group of friends

he goes into a trade to become a mechanic and owns his own shop

starts smoking cigarettes/vaping

his friends dont really approve but they understand he cant quit just yet as hes not in a mental space to do so

goes to therapy with a psychologist whos a demigod that specializes in grieving and war trauma

they all go to therapy but hes the last one to do it

he’s still the ‘happy go lucky’ guy hes always been but as he gets closer w the others they start to see the true sadness in him

piper and him grow a lot closer after jason died and have a big sister little brother relationship

hazel:

my girl stays at camp jupiter

takes nicos place at camp

horse trainer

her and frank also dont work out as a romantic relationship, they felt that the age gap was too much after frank turned 18 and hazel was 15 theyre still friends tho

hazel often visits leo in his shop

as much as leo reminds her of sammy, through therapy she has recognized that theyre separate people and to not push all her past feelings for sammy onto leo

not only does she train horses but she also teaches little kids basic math, science, and history to the younger kids

they all call her ms. hazel

she prefers to teach the really young kids (age 4-7)

wears her hair in different braid styles after BOO

frank:

my friggin HOMIE

i relate to frank a lot personality wise

therefore i think hed be a 4/20 fanatic after BOO

hes not stoned during training or during important camp duties

but otherwise you try talkin to him and you dont really notice until you look and see the far off look and red eyes and he just goes “huh?”

other than that hes a great leader

after he gets his cool new look from mars he takes really good care of his body including consistent exercise and eating really healthily (maybe he has a soft spot for fast food when hes hi)

him joining the military does not make sense to me

he lost his mom to war, and he was in one himself, idk about you but i would not wanna join the military after being the main character in a war

he studies to be a veterinarian for exotic animals

when no one is around he shifts into the animal to find out whats wrong

”dr. zhang prefers to work by himself” “why” “idk but hes always right, if it aint broke dont fix it”

jason:

rip home-slice

nico:

my other homie

my guy does not get taller than 5’8

stays at camp during the summer to train the new and old kids

him and will get a house together

teaches history at the camp school

cat dad (5 cats and counting)

will:

takes nicos last name when they marry bc its cooler

him being a doctor doesnt click w me i more picture him being an EMT

EMTs are hotter anyways

does med training with new apollo kids whenever he gets time

if he’s not busy during working hours he drops by nicos classroom w his fav drink from dutch bros (starbucks is MID) and hangs out with him and his students

#percy jackson #pjo #jason grace #hazel levesque #frank zhang #leo valdez #piper mclean #annabeth chase #nico di angelo #will solace #heroes of olympus #solangelo #percabeth

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ironboyxs · 8 months

Text

Unseen Hearts

Fandom: Stray Kids

Pairing: Felix x Male Reader

Word Count: 4652

Summary: Y/N is a young actor and singer on the rise who has great admiration for Stray Kids, especially a certain member with a huskier voice.

p.s. this is the first time I write about kpop on this blog, I hope you like it! In fact, I was extremely inspired because I've never written so much! and another thing: I mention a Korean ideogram in the story, I tried to do my research but my Korean is terrible, forgive any mistakes. and always remembering REQUESTS ARE OPEN, in the pinned there are the fandons for which I write

You never thought you would be in a serious relationship with a K-pop artist. Of course, you've been a fan of Korean culture since you were 13 and a friend introduced you to the concept of K-pop, dramas and all the rest.

You were lucky enough to have well-off parents who let you study Korean from the age of 13 because you had become completely obsessed with everything about Korea.

But obviously your life didn't revolve around just that, of course you went to shows whenever you could, once you even got a trip to South Korea as a gift to go to a fan meeting.

But one thing that the idol life showed you was that you also wanted to be an artist, you were in doubt between acting and music. After all, you were good at both. In school plays you always got the lead.

Your mother played the piano and from a very early age taught you everything she knew about music, so one of your hobbies, and also a form of therapy, was writing songs.

When you were 18, a family friend who worked for Netflix knew he had a casting call that was a perfect fit for you. You took the test, with zero faith that you would pass.

But it ended up happening, the series was about a fantasy world, four wizard friends fighting an evil entity, you had a lot of fun recording the first season, you made incredible friends, but you never thought the series would be successful.

Until it exploded. And it became the number 1 series on Netflix, with everyone talking about it. And obviously you and your co-stars started doing press tours.

Jimmy Fallon Show

- Hey guys! Welcome back to the Tonight Show! Today we have a very special guest, a talented young man who is having great success with the new Netflix series: Witchbound Chronicles. Let's welcome the amazing Y/N! How are you, Y/N?

- Hi Jimmy! I'm great, thanks for having me here.

- It's a pleasure to have you. Firstly, congratulations on the success of your series! What has the experience been like seeing your face everywhere?

- It's surreal, Jimmy. I never imagined things would happen so quickly. I'm just enjoying every moment.

- This is amazing! Tell us a little about the series. What can fans expect?

- Well, the series is called "Witchbound Chronicles" and it takes place in a completely new world full of magic, fantastic creatures and lots of exciting twists. I play one of the main characters, a young man named Ethan, who discovers he has incredible magical abilities.

- This looks amazing! And what was the audition process like to get the role?

- It was a little crazy, actually. I auditioned without much expectation, and when I got the call that I had gotten the role, I couldn't believe it. It was a dream come true.

- And what was it like working with the cast and crew?

- Everyone was incredible. The cast is very talented, and the team behind the cameras did an incredible job bringing this magical world to life. I learned a lot from all of them.

- I'm sure fans would love to know if there are any funny or interesting behind-the-scenes stories you can share.

- Oh, definitely! One day, we were filming a scene with intense special effects, and one of the animatronics that plays the magical creatures ended up going out of control. It was hilarious to see everyone running for cover, but in the end, everything worked out, and the scene was incredible.

- And what can we expect from the future, Y/N? More projects on the small screen or maybe even the big screen?

- Absolutely, Jimmy! I love acting, and I hope to continue exploring different roles and challenges. Who knows what the future holds, right?

- Hey Y/N, our research team made some interesting discoveries on your social media. It seems like you're a big K-pop fan, is that right?

- Oh yes, Jimmy! I'm completely obsessed with K-pop, it's one of my passions.

- This is amazing! Any specific groups or artists that you really admire?

- For sure! I'm a big fan of Stray Kids.

- Oh, and our team also noticed that you have a certain “bias” as they say in K-pop at Felix! You've been expressing your crush on Felix a lot on social media. Any funny stories or embarrassing moments related to this?

- Well, now that you mention that this is public I would say that all my posts about Felix are kind of funny and embarrassing, actually. I try to keep it light and humorous, but of course, my friends always tease me a little about it.

- That is great! And if Felix or any of the Stray Kids were watching right now, what would you say to them?

- Wow, that's a tough question. I guess I would say how much they mean to me as an artist and as a person. Their work really inspires me, and I really admire their talent.

- I hope Felix sees this and who knows, maybe you can meet one day!

Some time later, on a live that Felix was doing, a fan asked if he had seen this interview.

Chat: Felix, did you see Jimmy Fallon's interview with Y/N, the actor from the series "Witchbound Chronicles"?

- Oh yeah! I saw! It was amazing. I couldn't stop smiling throughout the entire interview.

Chat: Y/N mentioned that he's a big fan of Stray Kids and that he has a crush on you. What was your reaction when you watched this?

- Oh, really? This is so cool! I was very flattered to learn that he is a Stray Kids fan. I think it's an honor when talented people like our work.

Chat: Would you have a message to send to Y/N?

For sure! Y/N, if you're watching, thank you so much for your support! It's amazing to know that you enjoy our work, and who knows, maybe one day we can meet. Keep being amazing!

Chat: It would be great to see a collaboration between Stray Kids and the series' soundtrack, wouldn't it?

- Absolutely! We would love it! Who knows what the future holds for us, right? Let's hope something like this happens.

Meanwhile at your house

- Y/N did you watch Felix's last live? - Your sister came running to ask you.

- No, I saw the notification but I was busy so I couldn't watch it.

- You NEED to see this excerpt!

Your sister takes the phone to you with a cut from the live stream where Felix Yongbok Lee is simply talking about you, and of course you completely freak out!

- MY GOD! FELIX KNOWS I EXIST!

- Imagine if you could meet him in person?

You stop and reflect for a second

- What is it? - Your sister asks.

- My Twitter account simply has 1001 posts about how handsome and hot I think he is! I need to deprive that now!

- Wow, but it's great that he knows you have a crush on him!

- He already knows because of that stupid interview, I don't need to be embarrassed anymore! - You run out to get your cell phone.

A while later on a gossip page

“Recently Y/N S/N deprived his Twitter account and opened a new one saying that it would be his professional account. Does the young actor have something to hide?”

/-/

Months later, with the end of recording the first season of the series, and the end of the press conferences, you feel that it is time to return to music. You had loved that whole period of recording and promoting the series but you felt the urge to write about it all, to put it all in the form of music, and deep in your heart, you wanted to write about something, something that you thought was really silly. actually, but your mother always told you that music was made to express all your feelings.

Unseen Hearts

🎶 Unseen hearts, a world apart,

In the shadows, you're the spark.

A crush so sweet, yet out of reach,

Dreams we chase, lessons we teach. 🎶

- This song is AMAZING! - A music producer friend of your mother said when he heard it.

- Did you really think so? I think it's no big deal.

- Is beautiful! What was the inspiration?

- Ah, silly thing, you know... stupid youthful passion - You said with a bit of shame.

- Y/N, I know you've been wanting to combine acting and music for so long, Bobby can give you that opportunity. – Your mother said

- You have so much potential Y/N. - Said Bobby, the producer and owner of the record company you were now part of.

- Now, ideas for a music video?

The Unseen Hearts video was a success, number 1 in views on YouTube. The clip takes place in a magical setting, reminiscent of the world of the series that you are part of. Include enchanted forests, ancient ruins and mystical locations, having a sense of magic and mystery. The story of the music video centers on you, showing your magical journey in search of your unreachable crush. Throughout the clip you searche for a masked figure who wears a necklace with the Korean character: 리

Comments on Twitter

🌟 Just watched the "Unseen Hearts" music video by @Y/NActorOfficial and I'm absolutely enchanted! The magical symbolism and emotional depth in every scene got me hooked. Matt's talent is truly spellbinding! 🔮💖 #UnseenHearts #Y/NMagic

✨ The "Unseen Hearts" music video is a masterpiece! 🎬✨ Y/N's portrayal of an unattainable crush, wrapped in magical elements, is pure art. The visuals, the symbolism – everything is on point! 🌌🎶 #WitchboundChronicles #MagicalMusic

🌌 Theory time! What if the "Unseen Hearts" video is a metaphor for the struggles we face in expressing our feelings? The crush, shrouded in magic, symbolizes the elusive nature of emotions. Y/N's journey represents the pursuit of self-discovery. 🧐💭 #UnseenHeartsTheory

📜 Lyric interpretation theory: What if the lyrics in "Unseen Hearts" reflect Y/N's emotions towards Felix? The masked figure embodies the lyrical expression of an unspoken crush, with the ideogram pendant serving as a musical symbol of admiration. 🎤💔 #LyricConnection #UnseenHeartsEmotion

🎵 Melodic connection theory: The musical journey in "Unseen Hearts" might represent Y/N's emotional connection to Felix. The masked figure, with Felix's ideogram, is the elusive muse driving the rhythm of Y/N's heart. 🎭💖 #MusicalMuse #UnseenHeartsMelody

The Kelly Clarkson Show

- Hey guys! We're here with the talented Y/N, who recently released the amazing music video "Unseen Hearts." Y/N, first, I want to say that the music video is amazing, but everyone is wondering: what is the meaning behind it?

- Hi Kelly! First of all, thank you for the compliment. You know, "Unseen Hearts" is a magical journey, an exploration of emotions and personal challenges. I wanted to convey the idea of pursuing something that seems unattainable, but at the same time, it is an experience of self-discovery.

- Oh, this is fascinating! And many fans are curious about the character that appears in the clip. Can you tell us more about this?

- Of course, Kelly. The ideogram is an artistic representation, a kind of personal symbol. It's a way to add a layer of mystery to the story, allowing each person to find their own meaning in the song and video.

- I get it, I love this enigmatic approach! And what would you say to fans speculating about the music video?

- Well, it's amazing to see the enthusiasm of the fans and the different interpretations they are creating. The beauty of art is in its subjectivity, right? I love seeing the theories and stories that people are coming up with. It's a gift to see how music resonates in unique ways for everyone.

Live from Felix a few days later

Chat: Hi, Felix! Did you see Y/N's new video, "Unseen Hearts"? What did you think?

- Oh, sure! I watched it, and I have to say Y/N did an amazing job. The magical atmosphere, the emotional narrative, everything was very well done. I really liked.

Chat: And the music? Do you think it has some connection with you? After all, the character with your name appears in the clip!

- Well, it's interesting, right? I think art is interpretive, and each person can have their own vision. If music is an artistic expression, it's hard to say exactly what it means to Y/N. But I loved seeing how fans are creating their own theories and stories around it.

Chat: We are really curious! Do you think Y/N might have been inspired by you for the song?

- You know, Y/N is an incredible artist, and I'm just one of the many artists who can inspire him. I think the beauty of music is its ability to connect with different experiences and emotions. If Y/N found inspiration in something we experienced, it's an honor.

Chat: Hey Felix, we know Y/N mentioned he's a Stray Kids fan. Do you think he could have a crush on you?

- Oh, really? That's kind of funny to think about. I think it's always flattering to know that people admire our work, whether as artists or as people. And well, I don't really know about that. I'm grateful for the fans' support and affection, but personal relationships are something private, right? Let's focus on the music and Y/N's work, which is incredible.

Chat: We're just kidding, Felix! But seriously, what was it like for you to see your character in his video?

It was a pleasant surprise, for sure! Y/N is a talented artist, and it was cool to see that special touch in the video. I think he did a wonderful job of creating something unique and meaningful.

A few weeks later you are invited to perform at the Billboard Music Awards, it would be your first time performing Unseen Hearts in front of such a large audience, you were nervous obviously, but something made you even more nervous.

- Y/N you have no idea what I discovered! - Bobby, who was now your manager, called you excitedly.

- What was it?

- So I was organizing your participation in this year's BMAs, and you know who will be there, STRAY KIDS! They will also participate

You froze, you had followed the news, given interviews, seen Felix's live and knew that everyone already knew the obvious, you had burst out writing a song about the crush you had on a boy you saw once at a fan meeting.

- Y/N… are you there? - Bobby asked from the other side.

- I'm sorry, I just got a little distracted.

- I thought you would be more excited.

- Yes, I'm excited, of course, it's going to be really cool - You said a little disconcerted.

- Now are you ready for the big news?

- My God, is there more?

- It has! So the organization was talking to me, and they asked me if you would be willing to sit at the same table as them, you know, you speak Korean, so you can help the members who don't speak it to fit in.

- BOBBY WHAT DID YOU ANSWER?

- I confirmed your place with them of course, I thought you would love it!

- ARE YOU TELLING ME I'M GOING TO COME FACE TO FACE WITH THE GUY I WROTE A SONG ABOUT?????

- Wait, was the song really about Felix?

- My God Bobby, I thought you were my manager and paid attention to the nuances.

You wanted to pass out obviously.

Billboard Music Awards Day - Red carpet.

- Hi Matt! We are excited to see your performance today. What can we expect from this presentation?

- Hello! I'm looking forward to the night, it's going to be amazing. The performance will be full of energy, with a touch of magic and emotion. I hope everyone enjoys it!

- Good luck! Now, we've heard rumors that you and Stray Kids have a special connection. Any future collaborations on the horizon?

- Well, I'm a big fan of Stray Kids, they're so talented. Who knows what the future holds? I'm always open to surprising collaborations. - You say with a bright smile

- Hmm, intriguing! And regarding the "Unseen Hearts" video, many fans speculate about the inspiration behind it. Any subliminal messages?

- Ah, "Unseen Hearts" is an emotional journey, an exploration of personal feelings and challenges. Fan interpretations are fascinating, and I like to leave the song open to different meanings.

- What about the ideograms? We saw Felix from Stray Kids in the video. Any special meaning? - The interviewer asks with an insinuating smile

- Ideograms are like artistic elements, each one can find its own meaning. Sometimes it's just a way to add a special touch to the visual narrative. - You say, wanting to curse yourself for when you had the brilliant idea of putting one of the ideograms of Felix's name in the music video

Interview with Stray Kids

- And we're here with Stray Kids! You guys are killing it as always. We're curious to know, are there any secret collaborations you have in mind? Maybe something with our dear Y/N, who is also here today?

- Well, you know, we are always open to new musical experiences. Y/N is an amazing artist, so who knows what could happen in the future? - Felix responds.

- Interesting! And speaking of collaborations, we saw Felix's character in Y/N's "Unseen Hearts" video. Any idea what this could mean?

- It seems like Y/N wanted to add a special touch to the video. I don't know if there's a deeper meaning, but it's an honor to be included in his art in some way. - Felix says smiling

- What if we talk about the music itself? Any thoughts on "Unseen Hearts"? - The interviewer says wanting to provoke.

- Of course, we all watched the clip and were impressed. The song has a unique vibe, and Y/N's performance is engaging. It's great to see artists exploring different styles. - Bang Chan responds

- It seems like there are a lot of secrets being kept! Speaking of secrets, do you have any future projects that you haven't revealed yet?

- Well, we never reveal all our secrets, do we? You can expect more surprises in the future. - Hyunjin responds, ending the interview.

Later, after the red carpet, you have to face reality and go to your seat next to the members of Stray Kids. You're dying of embarrassment, not only because you meet artists you admire so much, but because you know what the topic of the moment is.

You greet everyone in Korean, trying to be as polite as possible, they are all incredibly kind to you.

When it's time to sit down, it's as if fate hates you, and of course your seat was next to Felix.

- I really enjoyed your series on Netflix. - Felix said trying to start a conversation.

- Serious? Didn't you find it a little too fanciful?

- It's too fanciful, but I like things like that, it's really cool.

- Thank you very much - You said blushing.

He looked incredibly handsome that night, you were trying very hard not to stare.

- I really liked Unseen Hearts too, it's a beautiful song.

- Oh thank you, but it doesn't even compare to your work, I'm still quite an amateur. - You always had this habit of diminishing yourself.

- Hey don't say that, your work is incredible. - He takes a strand of your hair and puts it back. - Your eyes are very E/C

He immediately takes his hand out of your hair and apologizes. There was a slight awkward atmosphere but the touch of his fingers in your hair were still there. “You’re not living a fanfic, focus on reality”, you forced yourself to think.

You didn't want to do it but you had to, you didn't want them to keep bothering the boy because of the damn ideogram in the clip.

- Look at the clip, and the ideogram, I'm sorry they keep disturbing you with this, I saw some of your lives and how embarrassed you were.

- Hey no, I thought it was really cool! Was it really a reference for me?

You look down, well, there was no point in lying anymore, right? At least you would leave with the knowledge that your idol would never see you as anything more

- Yes, it was, but you know we all have crushes on famous people, don't worry, it doesn't mean anything big.

- What a shame - He said looking down

What? - You were shocked.

- I wouldn't mind, you know, if it was a genuine crush.

You didn't have time to respond because Bobby came to call you to say that you needed to get ready for your presentation. You ran away with your heart racing, what did that mean, what did Felix mean?

- Ladies and gentlemen, singing Unseen Hearts Y/N S/N

On the Billboard Music Awards stage, the "Unseen Hearts" moment begins with you positioned center stage, radiating a magnetic presence. The mesmerizing melody fills the room, creating a magical atmosphere that captures everyone's attention.

The scenery is full of fantastic elements, as you immerse yourself in the performance, conveying the emotion of the music through each note. The audience, enveloped by the magic of the presentation, watches attentively.

During the performance, the camera occasionally cuts to the audience, where Felix from Stray Kids is sitting. His eyes meet at various moments, creating a visual connection that transcends the stage. You, while singing, exchange intense glances with Felix in the audience, conveying deep emotions and a unique harmony.

The exchange of glances is loaded with meaning, as if you were sharing your story not only with the audience, but also with Felix. Every facial expression reflects the intensity of the song, as your eyes meet Felix's, conveying a silent, emotional narrative.

At the end of the performance, the audience bursts into applause, recognizing the beauty and emotion of the performance. You, as you come down from the stage, exchange a final look with Felix, a moment that remains suspended in the air before being lost in the effervescence of the applause.

On twitter

🌟 The exchange of looks between Y/N and Felix during "Unseen Hearts" at the #BBMAs was simply magical! This emotional connection transcended the stage. ✨🎶 #UnseenHeartsMagic

😍 I can't get over the intensity of the looks between Y/N and Felix during the performance! Their chemistry is palpable, and "Unseen Hearts" became even more special. 🔥💖 #BBMAs # Y/N xFelixMoment

🧙‍♂️ I'm absolutely delighted with the performance of "Unseen Hearts" at the #BBMAs. The looks between Y/N and Felix added an extra layer of magic to the performance! 🌈🔮 #EnchantedConnection

🎭 "Unseen Hearts" at the #BBMAs was an emotional journey! The looks between Y/N and Felix brought a unique depth to the presentation. A masterpiece of connection and magic. 🌌🎶 #MysticalPerformance

🤩 The performance of "Unseen Hearts" at the #BBMAs was a visual and emotional spectacle! Y/N and Felix exchanging looks made everything even more captivating. 😊💫 #KPopMagicMoment

😭 I cried at the beauty of the performance of "Unseen Hearts". The intensity of the looks between Y/N and Felix is heartbreaking. A unique emotional experience. 💔🌟 #BBMAs #EmotionalJourney

🎶 The chemistry between Y/N and Felix during "Unseen Hearts" at the #BBMAs is something that cannot be described in words. A perfect fusion of music, emotion and connection. Angry! 👏🌈 #MusicalAlchemy

🌀 "Unseen Hearts" at #BBMAs left my soul vibrating. The looks between Y/N and Felix transcended the stage, creating a unique and magical experience. 🔮✨ #MysticVibes #UnseenHeartsVibes

You couldn't believe what had just happened, you had performed Unseen Hearts in front of hundreds of people but it was as if you could only see Felix, you were completely embarrassed by it. How could you be so unprofessional to stare at the boy like that? What would they say about you? What would they say about him?

A knock on the dressing room door makes you stand up. It was the boys from Stray Kids and you quickly rushed to open it.

- Y/N, man, you just killed it on stage! It was amazing! - Bang Chan says hugging you.

You're grateful for the compliment, but a wave of self-consciousness hits you. Did they notice your distraction? Did they notice the prolonged glances in Felix's direction?

- Oh, thanks, Chan! I'm glad you liked it. - You say smiling, trying to hide it.

- Did you see the audience? Everyone was mesmerized. It looks like you worked some real magic up there! - Jeongin says.

Everyone laughs, and you join in the laughter, trying to keep your self-critical thoughts away.

- Y/N, that performance was incredible. You brought such a unique energy to the song. - Felix says with a shy smile.

- And I think our friend here needs to speak to you in private. - Changbin says leading the others to leave the room.

Okay, you thought: now he's going to say that what I did was horrible, that it could cause gossip and horrible repercussions for his career. And so you will have ruined the mere chance of having a friendship with someone you admire.

But his response was very different from what you imagined.

- Yeah… I wanted to ask… if you want to go out with me, do you know after the awards?

The initial perplexity is replaced by a mixture of relief and surprise. You expected the worst, but here Felix is, not mentioning anything about the intense stares, but rather extending an invitation to hang out.

- Wow, of course, I would love to! It would be amazing. - You smile trying to hide your surprise.

Felix seems to relax a little, like he's relieved by his answer.

- Great so! Will be cool. The awards are going to be incredible, but I think after that we can relax a little, what do you think?

- I will love it!

- Excellent! See you after the awards, then. - He says with a dazzling smile

He turns to leave the dressing room, and you stay there, processing the unexpected turn of events. What seemed like a potential uncomfortable situation turned into an invitation to hang out. Perhaps the intense looks were perceived differently by Felix.

Later that night…

"Y/N from 'Unseen Hearts' and Felix from Stray Kids spotted holding hands after the Billboard Music Awards!"

"The beginning of a new ship? Y/N and Felix, moments of romance after the awards."

"Fans are ecstatic over photos of Y/N and Felix together. Could this be the start of a new friendship or something more?"

And on Twitter…

😱 Holding hands? This is real? Y/N and Felix together? I'm freaking out! 😍🥰 # #Y/NxFelix #UnseenHeartsLove

🚢 Is a new ship being born? The internet needs to know! 😏🚀 # Y/Nlix #ShipSpeculation

🌟 The friendship between Y/N and Felix is so beautiful! We loved seeing the two together. 🤝💖 #FriendshipGoals # Y/NAndFelix

🧐 Holding hands? Are we all witnessing the beginning of something special? 🤔🌈 # Y/NAndFelix #SpeculationsRising

📸 Exclusive photos of Matt and Felix leaving the event. Are we seeing the birth of a new partnership? 🤝💫 #CelebrityNews # Y/NFelixMoments

📚 What do you think of a fanfic based on these photos? 😏💕 # Y/NlixFanfic #ShippingDreams

And so maybe Unseen Hearts weren't so unseen...

#x male reader #male reader insert #gay #fanfic #stray kids #stray kids x male reader #stray kids imagine #felix x male reader #lee felix #lee felix x male reader #kpop

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bullet-prooflove · 3 months

Text

Listen: Dean Archer x Reader (feat: Sean Archer)

Tagging: @kmc1989@helsinkibaby@hufflepuffgirl@mimi-8793

When Dean sees his son Sean for the first time in fifteen years, he’s dressed in a beige prison XL prison uniform and there’s a pane of glass between the two of them with fingerprints streaked across the surface.

Surely he thinks, they should be able to do better especially after COVID. They could at least wipe the damn thing down or something. His hands are shaking when he picks up the phone but he masks it by gripping the receiver so tightly that his knuckles turn white.

It’s been a couple of weeks since Sean called him from Cook County, that’s how long it’s taken him to get visitation. He hadn’t realised it was such a process. In the meantime he’s been in contact with Sean’s lawyer, an over encumbered public defender in an attempt to understand the charges against him. The woman had barely even remembered his name.

He tries to explain the detriment of this to Sean as he sits across from him but it starts a fight. All hell breaks loose between the two of them because Dean, he’s never really understood Sean, not since he hit fourteen and came home from Sea Cadets that summer a withdrawn, sullen teenager. It’s six moths later when his grades started to drop that they found the weed and the pills.

Sean ends up hanging up the phone and terminating the visit and Dean is left with this weird feeling of purgatory because he’s back where he was fifteen years ago, with a son that doesn’t want to talk to him.

“I don’t know how to get through to him.” Dean tells you later that night when you’re cooking dinner together. He’s tired, overwhelmed, exasperated. He wants to fix this, truly he does, he just doesn’t know how to. “I don’t know why there’s such a disconnect.”

“Have you tried listening to him?” You ask as you chop peppers on the cutting board for the salad. “I mean actually sitting down and hearing what he has to say.”

“Of course…” He replies with an edge of annoyance and you give him that look, the one that tells him he’s being an ass. He falls silent after that, mulling it over in his head as he cooks steak on the stove.

Dean has always parented the way his father parented him. His father was an admiral, he had a strict military upbringing, bouncing around from base to base, never sticking around long enough to make too many friends. It’s the reason he’s found it hard to make connections in the past, if you build a barrier between you and the rest of the world it’s less likely you’ll get hurt when it’s time to move on. He carried that into his first marriage and into every job he’s ever worked.

His father had always insisted on things being tidy, ordered and Dean he’s lived with that mantra his entire life. He thinks that’s why he was so hard on Sean, he’s used to a chain of command, a hierarchy. He was the parent and Sean was the kid. It should have been as simple as that but the truth is people are messy. It’s only through his therapy sessions with Daniel that he’s realising how much his father’s version of parenting affected him. He was always distant, emotionally cold. When he was present it was about earning his time, not enjoying it. He wonders if he brought that to the table with Sean, if he taught him that love was conditional, dependant on good behaviour.

“I think you’re right.” He tells you when the two of you settle into bed that night. You’re curled up against his side, your head resting through on his chest as his fingers comb through your hair. “Maybe I haven’t been listening.”

He’s lucky that Sean agrees to see him the second time, he could refuse, he could take him off the visitor’s list but he doesn’t. Dean thinks that means there’s hope for the two of them, that he’s committed to mending fences, after all it was Sean that reached out, Sean that called Dean wanting nothing more than to talk to his dad.

“My wife…” Dean as he sits down across from his son. “She says I’ve got a tendency to override everything but the sound of my own voice and she’s right. I just… if there’s anything you want to say to me after all this time I’ll try my best to listen.”

“You got remarried?” Sean says finally, his elbow resting on the ledge as he leans forward. “I thought the way things ended with you and mom would have put you off.”

Dean doesn’t look back on that time fondly, they’d tried to shield Sean away from the majority of it but there were nights when Leanne’s addiction was out of control and his patience had stretched to breaking point. He’s not proud of the way he handled things back then, his first marriage left him mistrustful and with a sense of worthlessness, that he still feels to this very day.

“It did.” Dean admits as he cups the phone under his chin. “I was alone for a long time before I met Isobel…”

He trails off then because he’s not sure if this is the kind of thing that Sean wants to hear. The life he has now is so different from the one he had before. He’s happy these days, relaxed. He understands that things aren’t so black and white, they don’t fit neatly into little boxes the way that he was taught they should.

It occurs to him that Sean doesn’t know this version of him. Dean preached a lot of tough love back then and not a whole lot of empathy, he had been taught addiction and mental health were character flaws, a sign of weakness. He knows different these days, from his own experiences, from yours. He’s not the same person he was fifteen years ago, he’s much more free with heart, more understanding, more compassionate. He hopes he can show Sean that in the future, that he’s changed, that he’s willing to rebuild this relationship.

“Does she know about me?” Sean asks him quietly, his voice a little rough. “Your wife Isobel? Did you tell her about me?”

There’s a slight pinkness in his cheeks and his gaze slips down the chipped table, his thumb running over a deep indentation. It takes Dean a second to realise what he’s seeing in his son and it feels like a knife plunging straight into his chest.

Shame.

Sean thinks that Dean’s ashamed of him. That he’s hidden his son away like he’s some horrible secret. He’s never wanted to reach out so badly before, he wishes the glass wasn’t there, that he could touch Sean, hug him but he can’t no matter how much he wants to.

“She does.” He tells his son, the edges of his mouth tipping up into a smile. “She wants to meet you when you’re ready.”

“We should probably wait until I’m out.” Sean says gesturing at their surroundings. “I don’t think prison’s the best place to meet my dad’s new wife. I’d prefer to put my best foot forward and all that.”

“She’s an M.E.” Dean laughs as he looks around the room. “She’s worked out of far worse surroundings than this.”

Sean smiles then and something in Dean’s chest just lifts.

“It’s not your fault you know?” Sean says suddenly, surprising Dean. “That I’m fucked up. I know you blame yourself but it was nothing you did or didn’t do. I just… I need you to know that.”

There’s an ache in Dean’s chest, it feels so visceral, like someone’s reached in and torn his heart right out of his rib cage.

“Don’t do that.” Dean tells him, his voice breaking. “Don’t let me off the hook that easy. I messed up I know I did…”

“And so did I.” Sean tells him, his eyes burning with sincerity. “I just want you to know that I’m trying to own the shit I did, to making amends for it.”

“Sean…” Dean begins but Sean shakes his head cutting him off.

“Dad.” Sean reminds him gently. “You promised to listen.”

“I did.” Dean concedes as he adjusts the handset under his chin. “Alright son, I’m listening.”

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deconstructingchabad · 1 month

Text

The Rebbe and LGBTQ Rights

Warning for: extreme homophobia, transphobia, conversion therapy, medicalizing language, etc etc

Chabad is nothing if not an expert in PR. Unlike other Chassidic factions, or, indeed, other Chareidi (what you might call "ultra-Orthodox") factions in general, Chabad has spent a lot of effort into disguising their true politically conservative views until you've already been sucked in. This had led to the very false belief, especially among younger generations who aren't so familiar with Orthodox Judaism as a whole, that Chabad is on the progressive side of Orthodoxy.

This couldn't be further from the truth.

While Chabad doesn't hold any views unique to Charedi Judaism with respect to the rights and respect of LGBTQ individuals, they have done a better job at hiding them.

You may think that perhaps this isn't such a bad thing- after all, isn't it a good thing that Chabad isn't picketing at Pride parades or outright throwing queer people out of their Chabad houses? And while of course it's good that Chabad isn't engaging in those types of homophobic and transphobic behavior, that doesn't mean that what Chabad does engage isn't just as harmful.

Chabad will be intentionally vague to outsiders about their true opinions of LGBTQ people, while in reality they fund and campaign for conservative political leaders and agendas and make life a living Hell for those unlucky enough to be born as queer into the movement.

Since Rabbi Menachem Mendel Schneerson, or 'The Rebbe' as he is better known, is the axial power within the Chabad movement (despite being dead for decades now), lets take a moment to unpack what he actually believed about LGBTQ people.

I (OP) am a transgender man. In January of this past year, I was lucky enough to be able to get a gender affirming double mastectomy, something that I had been yearning for for years and something that I, seven months later, still do not regret. But the months leading up to my surgery were fraught with emotional battles with my parents, who are deeply involved in the Chabad movement. They felt that what I was doing was wrong and went against, if not Judaism as a whole, then their values within Chabad. As part of my parents' attempts to dissaude me from continuing my medical transition, my mother sent me a letter the Rebbe had written to a seemingly trans (if not, at least, gender questioning) individual. Followers of the Chabad movement place immense value onto responsa letters by the Rebbe, even to the point of almost placing as much value on them as Torah, so it was no surprise that my parents held this letter, written in 1985, to such a high pedestal and as something to base their current beliefs upon.

Here is the scan my mother sent to me:

RABBI MENACHEM M SCHNEERSON Lubavitch 770 Eastern Parkway Brooklyn, NY 1123 493-9250 Mr. Chabad of Northern California 2340 Piedmont Ave. Berkeley, Ca. 94704 Greeting and Blessing: By the Grace of G-d 22nd of Av, 5745 Brooklyn, N.Y. This is to acknowledge receipt of your letter of the 7th of Av. There is surely no need to point out to you at length that one of the basics of our Torah, Toras Chaim, is that Hashem is the Creator and Master of the Universe, whose benevolent Providence extends to each and everyone individually, and that He is the Essence of Goodness, and it is in the nature of the Good to do good, particularly in regard to our Jewish people, to whom. he has given His Torah, Toras Chaim, of which it is stated that it is "our life and the length of our days," together with its Mitzvoth whereby Jews live. As you know, and indicate also in your letter, there are Mitzvoth which apply to Jewish males, and those that apply to Jewish females, and the distinction in regard to the fulfillment of the Mitzvoth, is a far-reaching one. In light of the above, it is not clear why you should want to interfere with HaShem's blessings and contemplate a change of sex; especially as it would immediately bring in complications regarding Torah and Mitzvoth, even assuming that there would be no problems in other areas. And since this is quite plain and understandable, there is no need to elaborate on it. As for your writing that you have sometimes had the desire to have been born a female, etc. it is not surprising that a human being cannot understand the ways of HaShem, Who surely knows what is best for every individual. If it is somewhat troublesome to you, it would be advisable that you However, if this desire should talk things over with a Torah-observant psychologist. I suggest that you should have your Tefillin checked to make sure they are Kosher. With blessing,, M. Schneerson

And here is a letter from 1986 that is often shared around that is the Rebbe's response to a man "struggling with homosexuality":

RABBI MENACHEM M. SCHNEERSON Lubavitch 770 Eastern Parkway Brooklyn. N. Y. 11213 493-9250 By the Grace of G-d 25th of Shevat, 5746 Brooklyn, N. Y. Greeting and Blessing: This is to acknowledge receipt of your letter of Jan. 26th, in which you write about a serious problem. As requested, I will remember you in prayer for the fulfillment of your heart's desires for good. While all blessings come from HaShem, a Jew is expected to do what is necessary in the natural order. In the matter of the said problem, you surely know that there are doctors and psychiatrists who treat it, and have been successful in many cases. I know of a number of cases of people who had this problem but eventually overcame it, married and raised a family. While on this topic, I would like to clear up a misconception that has led some individuals into confusion and wrong conclusions. The misconception stems from the argument that since some individuals are born with this problem, it must be a "natural" thing; hence it cannot be designated as a wrong, or a sin, and there is therefore no need to do anything to change it, or at any rate, it is not a serious problem at all. That this approach is entirely without foundation can be seen from the fact that the Torah (called Toras Chaim and Toras Emes because it is our true guide in the everyday life) declares that to indulge in it, or even to dwell on it mentally, is a grave transgression of HaShem's commandment. Hence, it is also clear that the problem is controllable, for if it were beyond human control, HaShem would not have made it a sin. The fact that the problem may largely be congenital does not alter the situation. Every day children are born with particular natures and innate tendencies or drives, some of them good and some of them bad. This is why human being have to be trained and educated, so as to develop and strengthen the positive characteristics and eliminate the bad ones. The Creator endowed human beings with the capacity to improve, indeed even to change, their "natural" (i.e. inmate) traits. A case in point is kleptomania. It is generally recognized that kleptomania is a very compulsive drive. But no one will suggest that because it is probably inborn and extremely difficult to resist, the kleptomaniac should be told that it is okay for him to steal, or that there is nothing he can, or should, do about it, and so on. Similarly in the case of one who is born with a drive to destroy things, or with a quarrelsome or aggressive nature, or with a propensity to cheat or lie, or any other inmate trait that is considered reprehensible. No normal society would declare that since one was born that way, one should be allowed to go through life according to his natural desires and tendencies. Such an

attitude will help neither the individual, nor the society. On the contrary, everything should be, and is, done to help individuals to overcome their neurological problems, whatever they may be. Needless to say, the person who is afflicted with this or other neurological problems, may well ask, 'Why has HaShem created such a compulsive drive, which is in direct contradiction to His moral Code? Why has He afflicted me, who desires to comply fully with His commandments?" No human being can answer such questions, which only HaShem, the Creator, can answer. One observation that can be suggested in relation to the question, "Why me?" If an individual experiences a particularly difficult, or trying, situation, it may be assumed that HaShem has given him extraordinary powers to overcome the extraordinary difficulty. The individual concerned is probably unaware of his real inner strength; the trial may therefore be designed for the sole purpose of bringing out in the individual his hidden strength, which, after overcoming his problem, can be added henceforth to the arsenal of his revealed capacities, in order to utilize both for infinitely greater achievements for the benefit of himself, and others. Maimonides, the "Guide of the Perplexed" of his generation and of all subsequent generations, who was also acclaimed as the greatest physician of his time, declares in a well known passage in his famous Code, Mishneh Torah (Yad Hachazaka): "Every person has the option (power), if he so desires, to direct himself to do only good and be a Tzaddik, or, if he chooses, to follow the bad road and be a Rasha. Do not ever think that a person is predestined from birth to be a Tzaddik or Rasha. Nor is there any inner compulsion to make a choice, but one has the capacity to choose the right behavior, and it is entirely a matter of one's own will and determination" (Free translation from Hil. Teshuva, ch. 5. See it there at length). A final remark from the scientific viewpoint. To say that the human mind and neural system are unimaginably intricate, is to say the obvious. Only the Creator knows His handiwork. But the Creator has endowed the human mind with wonderful qualities to probe the mysteries of nature, to research and experiment and steadily gain more knowledge about himself and his physical and mental capacities. Considerable progress has been made by scientists in their studies of the brain cells and hormones. It is now clear that a wide range of human emotions and sensations can be stimulated artificially with the aid of electronic and biochemical techniques. It is now generally agreed that most, if not all, neurological disorders, including deviant sexual behavior, probably proceed from chemical(hormone) deficiencies or irregularities during the period of youth. Some neurological disorders are already being treated successfully in certain areas involving the neural system, and it is to be hoped that the range will expand and eventually include the whole spectrum of neurological disorders, both of individuals and of nations.

In the meantime, we can only put our trust in HaShem, and strengthen our adherence to the Torah and Mitzvoth, of which it is written, "They are our life and the length of our days." With blessing, M. Schneerson

With the above two letters, you can see the Rebbe recommending seeing a "Torah-observant psychologist" (this is a euphomism for conversion therapist, as you will see) to someone questioning their gender identity and comparing homosexuality to kleptomania and neurological disorders.

In 1987, the Rebbe was quoted as saying the following about homosexuality: (I had to dig a little to find this because. PR experts. But. Thank you so much to The Canadian Jewish News for reprinting his statements in 1987 and saving all their scans.)

"Any bill that proclaims that the 'rights' of these people must be protected and supported, should be seen for what it really is: It is taking away their right to be really protected (also -- from themselves); it is depriving these people of the vitally needed help! In simple physical terms it will bring even more suffering and pain to them, to their loved ones and to all society. Certainly all must be done to assure that this will not occur." "We are not dealing with the inalienable right of freedom of choice; we are not dealing with the innate and sacred, democratic right of free will; we are dealing with an issue of abnormality." ''In simple language, (homosexuality) is a sickness. And just because the patient proclaims he is normal does not make the malady any less dangerous." "there is no insult intended and no derogatory attitude suggested. . . . When a person is ill and someone volunteers to help him get well, there is no disrespect involved at all. "A special responsibility lies on the parents, educators and counselors to educate those afflicted . . . with a loving and caring attitude." When one acknowledges that homosexuality is destructive, he will realize "that it is no different from a child who is born with the tendency to tear out his hair or bang his head against the wall. But there is a very tragic difference in that this trait when practiced is much more devastating because it destroys both body and soul." "One person may stay only to lick the sugar and ' 'swear the pill is sweet." Another may come along and say: "I don't care if there is poison under the sugar, so long as I can enjoy the momentary pleasure of the sweetness .'.. . I don't care what the consequences will be." "Is it truly satisfying after the act? Or does it only provide momentary gratification . . . Are all his (or her) protestations about 'the great pleasure' and 'satisfaction' really true? Or has he Just been saying this for so long that now he is not willing, or is ashamed, to admit that he is wrong." -

Now, you may say that the Rebbe was only repeating what was the scientific and social consensus of the time, but homosexuality was officially removed from the DSM in 1973, over ten years before the Rebbe made his statements. The mid-1980s, when the Rebbe made these statements, were marked by the deaths of thousands upon thousands of Americans from the AIDS epidemic, and yet the Rebbe thought it appropriate to compare homosexuality to kleptomania or a poison pill. This isn't me singling the Rebbe out for his homophobia and transphobia- his ideas certainly weren't unique, especially among other fundementalist religious leaders- but I am holding him to a higher scrutiny because of the way in which the modern Chabad movement has attempted to whitewash his ideologies and market themselves as any less than the religious fundementalists that they are.

But what about the modern Chabad movement? Surely, even if modern adherents of Chabad didn't hold the Rebbe's words to such esteem as they do, perhaps the movement's ideologies have progresses with the times, and, dare I say it, modernized?

Well, they have. Sort of.

Any reference to homosexuality or gender divergence as being a disease has been virtually scrubbed from Chabad's public records (of course, this doesn't mean that the previously shared letters don't get passed around in private circles, such as the letter my mother sent to me in an attempt to dissuade me from persuing life-affirming medical intervention), but you can easily find what today's Chabad religious minds have to say with a quick little Google search:

"The issue is marriage. Marriage is, and always was, a religious idea: the idea that a relationship between a man and woman can be sanctioned as a holy union, as a partnership in which G‑d takes part. Does the California Supreme Court believe that their ruling will obligate G‑d to enter a relationship He does not condone? Marriage is not a civil institution; it is a religious one. The Court's intervention in this matter is, in my opinion, a dangerous precedent. This is a decision that should be left to the clergy." -Naftali Silberberg, 2008

"How do you navigate that journey? Thank G‑d, we have a Torah that provides a map, given to us by the One who gave us life. It tells us which desires we can embrace and elevate, which longings we can subdue and tame, and which we must reject or re-channel entirely. The Torah tells us unequivocally that the homosexual act is of that last category. Even if it burns inside for a lifetime, the best thing for you, for your health, and for your ultimate satisfaction in life is to subdue and re-channel that desire........ .......So yes, just as we don’t judge a fellow Jew for breaking Shabbat or eating non-kosher, so we don’t judge for the type of sexual life they are practicing and certainly not for the desires they never chose to have in the first place. In all cases, we look deeper, to the divine soul within. Encourage such people in the good things they are doing. Help them grow in the realms of Jewish practice and spirituality where they wish to grow. Let that soul shine." --Tzvi Freeman

It's pretty hard to find any official statements regarding LGBTQ issues made by Chabad because the devil works hard but Chabad's PR team works harder; however, I have the advantage of coming from within the community, and I know where to look.

So here are a few anecdotes from people such as myself, and what they've heard and dealt with due to Chabad:

(TW: extreme homophobia, sexual violence, conversion therapy)

Chabad is by no means a progressive branch of Orthodoxy. It is not unique in its queerphobia in comparison to other Orthodox Jewish movements, but it has spent a great deal of time and energy generating an illusion of being "milder" than other Charedi wings, when in reality it engages in just as much suppression and exclusion, even to the point of conversion therapy, as other Charedi groups do.

Just because you've seen that one photo circulating around Tumblr of a Chabad shliach putting Tefillin on a rainbow-flag caped individual does not change reality. A Chabad shliach putting Tefillin on an individual they view as undeniably a man (even if that person identifies as a woman or nonbinary, which they could have) is not the progressive win you think it is. It is no different from the refrain you hear from fundementalist Christian groups that preach to "love the sinner, hate the sin". They still view LGBTQ people as inherently sinners, whether they're doing so with a smile or not. And while I believe everyone is entitled to their beliefs, it is the deception that is most insidious to me, and young queer people have a right to know who it is they're endorsing when they endorse Chabad.

If you are in a similar situation as I once was, here are some resources:

JQY.org

Eshelonline.org

#chabad #deconstructing chabad #jumblr #judaism #cult survivor #cults #homophobia #transphobia #conversion therapy #queerphobia

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alice-after-dark · 3 months

Note

back at it again with my shitty fandom hottakes — if you’re still accepting asks about the whole “canon v. fanon” thing, that is — because i have ✨ opinions ✨ that have been ruminating in my head for a while now and i kind of wanted to throw them out into the void (i DO humbly apologise for the length — i have more than one talking point and am not known for my brevity lol)

(1) Alastor being sex-repulsed, or just sex negative in general.

yeah, we’re getting the controversial one out of the way first: probably should clarify that i personally AM a sex-repulsed aroace and therefore, i can See why people, including our fellow aces, naturally come to this conclusion — really, it’s only when people tote this statement as fact *specifically* to deter shipping that annoys the hell out of me. Alastor is a mysterious character: we REALLY don’t know much of anything about him in the grand scheme of things beyond what he *chooses* to reveal and that includes the matter of his sexuality — and frankly, he doesn’t reveal much of anything on that front, man doesn’t even know what an “asexual” *is*, XD. Most evidence I’ve seen citing his so-called sex repulsion that *isn’t* just dubiously canon at best supplemental material such as the Hunnicast or simply headcanon being repackaged as fact are the two scenes where Alastor turns down Angel Dust — a character who, especially at that point in the narrative, is VERY forward in his hypersexuality. The thing that i just don’t see a lot of people acknowledge, however, is: (1) Alastor turns him down, yes, but not in any way that would characterize him as being *particularly* sex negative (“Ha! *No.*”/“Haha! Never going to happen!”), he’s just bluntly rejecting Angel Specifically; and (2) Husk *also* rejected Angel and far more overtly before the two started to genuinely bond + is much more open about his discomfort with Niffty’s kinks, and yet he isn’t treated as sex-repulsed by the much of fandom — quite the opposite, in fact. Frankly, while i can *see* the reasoning behind portraying Alastor as sex-repulsed, the idea of him being this sex negative person who lashes out or faints at the notion of literally *anything* that can be perceived as sexual to be laughable when you consider his long-lived friendship with Mimzy — a *flapper* — and that he grew up in a period of great sex revolution in the United States: just because the 1920s is considered “prudish” by today’s standards doesn’t negate that fact; i can easily see Alastor as being repressed as a consequence of the time period and his unwillingness to adapt, but not to the extent that he’ll keel over seeing a fucking ankle getting flashed or while getting hit on — he *is* an adult, after all, and has had plenty of time to adjust to Hell’s general hedonism while not partaking in it himself.

(2) the infantilization of Charlie, Niffty, and Velvette. pretty self explanatory, i think: fandom in *general* has a pretty glaring issue of treating happy-go-lucky or just...short characters, especially women or neurodivergent characters, like children and it’s not *just* limited to hazbin fandom — it just makes me sad.

Charlie gets it slightly less *severely* compared to the other two, i believe, but i still see it crop of in some sects: yes, she’s clearly sheltered, and yes, she wears her heart on her sleeve to her detriment, but she’s also a grown ass woman (Faustisse — who i don’t personally consider a reliable source for most things relating to the current day show by virtue to them having left the project in 2020 — has stated that she is around 200 years old, so i’m going with the general assumption she’s older than MOST sinners here) and she *is* trying to run a business beyond feel good therapy exercises, however messily because, frankly, she isn’t particularly *good* at doing business: still, i see certain sects of the fandom treat and portray her as having the naivety of a child, reducing her to an “uwu smol bean” blindly trusting even the shadiest of fuckers like Alastor without any hesitation or critical thinking whatsoever under the notion of “well, EVERYONE can be redeemed” and relegating characters like Vaggie to be glorified babysitters at *best*: in canon, yes her ideas of redemption aren’t particularly well-rounded *yet* and it’s clear there’s a disconnect between her and other sinners due to her upbringing, but she *isn’t* an idiot — she’s well aware Alastor is shifty as fuck and doesn’t have her best interests at heart no matter how much she hopes he secretly *does* care, that’s *why* she held off on making any deals with him until she was driven into a corner, and she has no problem calling people out on their shittiness or showing her teeth just because she leans more towards pacifism compared to the rest of the cast.

Niffty, frankly, isn’t treated *much* better in canon compared to fandom, but that’s honestly a rant for a *different* day: it’s obvious she likely has SOME kind of disorder to explain much of her more eccentric behaviour, frankly we can speculate but we simply won’t know for sure until we know more about her in general, which *may* come in s2 considering where things left off with her. Oftentimes in fanon, she’s pigeonholed into simply being “Alastor’s hypomanic daughter” rather than her own individual character, which is a shame — it’s obvious the two have an amicable relationship despite her being his thrall, but it doesn’t read as particularly familial to me personally beyond him finding her antics amusing (and in a, frankly, patronizing way typical of Alastor) — and she’s regularly coddled, not allowed to have relationships with other characters *beyond* a parental dynamic with deerboi or husk: despite the actual show pointing to her having, at the very least, a friendly relationship with Mimzy and the rest of the hotel’s guests, and her being a former housewife who’s explicitly into hardcore kink/BDSM.

Velvette getting this treatment is the most egregious to me, tbh: i’ve frequently seen her be boiled down to being staticmoth’s glorified wingwoman/their daughter rather than their *equal* and business partner — frankly, i think people hear that she was the “youngest Overlord” and took that in the most literal way possible to portray her as a glorified teenager, her being a social media influencer not helping matters in that regard because people tend to subconsciously associate social media primarily with teenage girls due to bias. i can’t speak on *some* aspects of her infantilization in fandom that gives me a particular case of the “ick”, but I can’t help but be bothered by it showing up even in work I *enjoy*. Food for thought, all that jazz.

(3) Vox being portrayed as this overly flirtatious and horny 24/7 voyeur creep guy, *especially* around Alastor. this may just be my bisexuality speaking, but it just...*doesn’t* sit well with me when so far the only *confirmed* bisexual male character in the show is written with this sleazy behaviour he doesn’t exhibit in the show proper — yes, he’s suave and charismatic, and clearly not a prude considering his frenching with Val and...well, Val: “[which whore] could i be talking about?!” Vox: [points to self], and yes, he runs surveillance literally *everywhere*, but...[sighs] He Would Not Fucking Say That, guys — where at *best*, he’s a horndog, and at worst, an outright rapist, who’s *solely* driven by his obsession with Alastor and fuck the rest of his character, i guess. It just...makes me uncomfortable. but hey, that’s just me.

(christ on a stick this is a lot, i am so, so sorry :skull:)

Oh, MK, this was delicious. Do not apologize for the length, I am absolutely delighted. I am always interested in hearing peoples’ hot takes!

(1) Alastor being sex-repulsed, or just sex negative in general.

I totally get you on this one and honestly, I never thought about the Husk angle but you’re absolutely right. Husk rejects Angel way more often that Alastor and yet I have never seen Husk labeled as sex-repulsed, yet Alastor is labeled as that for…doing the exact same thing? What? I’m asexual and possibly aromantic myself, and this just rubs me the wrong way with people just assuming because he’s asexual that he doesn’t like sex full-stop. Not how it works.

I also really like how you point out the historical context of it. The 1920s were a time, man. This fic explores some of the crazy things that went down in the 1920s and it’s wild. But yeah, the idea that he would freak out over any little sexual thing (which…we actively see him not do?) is frustrating and kind of makes him out to be this delicate flower whose innocence must be protected.

Now, if people want to make him sex repulsed for various reasons, then go right ahead, but I definitely agree that it irks me when I see people trying to use it as an argument against literally any ship with Alastor.

(2) the infantilization of Charlie, Niffty, and Velvette.

Yeah, I definitely see this. Charlie is naive, but it gets ramped up a lot. People forget she is literally now an official war veteran and has actually led an army into battle. She is an overwhelmingly positive character, yes, but she’s not an infant. We even saw in the pilot that she was cautious and hesitant to even speak to Alastor, let alone make a deal with him (she slammed the door in his face twice). She is kind and emotional and optimistic, but she’s not stupid. She wants to see the best in everyone. This doesn’t make her a child. And like you said, we see her demon side come out when she’s angry. She’s not above getting pissed and letting it show when she really wants to.

I think people honestly forget that Niffty is not a child. She looks like one, but yeah no she’s an adult. Like you pointed out, this is done pretty frequently in canon and fanon. I honestly like her and Alastor more as friends than as a parental relationship, someone who entertains him and he genuinely enjoys the company of. I do hope we get to see a little bit more of her being an actual character in season 2 because I do love her and want to see better for her.

Velvette is complicated for me as the Instagram kind of did set her up as their daughter, so I think a lot of people got used to that concept. But honestly? I prefer them as equals. I can see Vox taking on more of a mentor role with her when they first started out while Valentino was more her creative BFF, but ultimately she is shown to be a capable character who can stand on her own two feet. I do think the whole social media thing and her being the youngest plays into her infantilization alongside her previous incarnation, but I definitely prefer her as an equal player in the game.

(3) Vox being portrayed as this overly flirtatious and horny 24/7 voyeur creep guy, especially around Alastor.

Fucking THIS. Okay, gonna just jump forward a bit here, but people calling him a creepy horny voyeur because of the cameras bothers me so much. HE. IS. A. CONTROL. FREAK. Those cameras aren’t for him to jack off to! They’re literally to siphon information and blackmail and anything else useful. He is a connoisseur of information. Literally every instance where we see him using his camera, HE IS INFO GATHERING. The one exception is when he is watching Alastor’s fight with Adam and that is clearly outside his norm. That being said, I think people take that scene and run with it, especially his comment about being “so hard right now,” which I think is ridiculous. He’s exaggerating, he’s having fun and joking around because the guy he hates is getting his ass handed to him. And the idea that his obsession with Alastor rules his brain 24/7 is a hard pass for me. The man is the CEO of a media and technological empire. He does not have the time to devote his every waking moment to obsessing over Alastor. In the scene where Pentious calls him, it’s pretty clear that Vox was busy doing other things both times he was called. He wasn’t sitting around with bated breath waiting for Sir Pentious to report in. He was just going about his day and getting his shit done.

Also hard agree as a fellow bisexual that it’s troubling that the only confirmed male bisexual character gets so hypersexualized in a way that he…doesn’t demonstrate at all? Literally the one time we see him get sexual is the fight with Adam. That’s it and yet suddenly it’s his entire personality. The flirtiest we ever see him act is during his part with Valentino in the finale and even that isn’t focused on sex or romance. It’s more them talking about being in power.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin vox #hazbin alastor #hazbin niffty #hazbin husk #hazbin charlie #charlie morningstar #hazbin velvette #ask #alice rambles #hazbin hotel vox #vox hazbin hotel

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gabessquishytum · 9 months

Note

tw suicide mentioned

So Hob doesn’t understand why people don’t love live, he feels like one of the only people who actually has a will to live. so of course he decides to work for a suicide hotline. And things are going good, he’s helping people. and then M calls. “I see no reason left to live,”

“oh um, hello…”

“you have two minutes to convince me otherwise”

“woah woah woah, where are you?” Hob asked feeling frantic. the stranger on the other end of the line sighs, “on the ledge of my building why else would I be calling you?”

Hob is about to dial 911, “could I pursued you to get off the ledge and back into your house?”

the stranger sighs, and hob hears some shuffling and then a door clicking closed. ok good, not in imminent danger.

“you said you wanted reasons to live yes?”

“Indeed, I do not understand why someone would want an eternity of this,” the stranger grumbled.

“I want to live to be a hundred! I’d say that’s pretty close to eternity as for reasons to live Have you considered…chimneys?”

“excuse me?”

“chimneys are fantastic you know, we wouldn’t have had that seen from Mary poppins and handkerchiefs! Where would we be without hankies? I’m sure in a lot grosser society,”

the stranger sighs, “something from this century Mr…”

“Hob, Hob Gadling, now let’s see was ac this century?”

“no”

“how about iPhones?”

“I will not live for an iPhone,”

“what about love?” Shit, he crossed a line.

“she left me… took our son too”

“oh…”

They spent the next hour talking Hob talked about his dead wife and being a single father while the stranger gave the first letter of his name. Fair trade.

M hung up feeling a little more optimistic and Hob gave himself a pat on the back for a good job.

“Hob could you come here?” Ronnie wasn’t the chatty type so hob assumed something was very wrong.

“hey Ronnie, what’s up?”

“well um there’s a man whose been calling everyday and he’s been asking for you specifically…” Ronnie blushed.

“Can you transfer the call to my phone?”

Ronnie obliged.

Hob picked up the phone preparing for the worst. “is this…Hob Gadling?”

it was M! Hob was mortified.

“M what are you doing calling everyday, is something wrong?”

“no, I’m fine, I feel better than I have in a long time. I was trying to reach you to say thank you and to…chat”

hob sighed, “M I’ve got a job,”

he heard a defeated whimper on the other end.

“Alright alright I’ll give, listen I’m not supposed to do this get out a pen and paper cause I won’t say it twice.”

and hob gave M his personal phone number.

and suddenly Morpheus and Hob had something new to live for, love.

-🦎

Ohhh boy yeah I can totally see this playing out! I'm definitely super fascinated by the idea of Hob working/volunteering on a crisis hotline. Especially when he's kind of at the opposite end of the spectrum. I do think he'd be genuinely interested in why people experience such drastically different views on life. Maybe he'd hope that his own outlook on life could be helpful. He knows that he's lucky - it's time to give back to the community and appreciate exactly how lucky he is to have good mental health.

M is the person who really teaches Hob about what its like to struggle. But still, he hopes that he might have made a difference. Maybe it was dumb to talk about chimneys and love, but it did get M to open up! Hob has so many hopes for the man, and he's secretly thrilled that he actually gets an update that M is feeling hopeful too! It's against all the rules, but talking to M - Morpheus - every day... Hob feels like it's doing both of them good. Morpheus is in therapy, he's feeling more confident, he sees a little more brightness in the world. In turn, Hob feels a greater understanding of himself and his own life. Hes a better person, now. And he feels a love for Morpheus which is growing every day.

It's slow, and steady, and there are bumps in the road. Morpheus’s mental health comes above all else for Hob, and he's keen to make sure that his lover takes care of himself. Even if that means taking breaks from their relationship. Hob knows that as long as his Morpheus is alive and well, he'll be happy. And if they keep on working together, step by step, there's a bright future for both of them.

And maybe one day it'll be Morpheus working at the crisis hotline right alongside Hob, telling everyone exactly why life is worth living.

#🦎 anon #the sandman #dreamling #nsft #cw suicide #cw mental health

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october-writes · 4 months

Text

Icarus sneak peek...

Okay, so I'm being super generous with this sneak peek because I have no idea when I'll be ready to post the whole fic. Pandora!Verse Leon has a long, bittersweet backstory and I love it, but it's a lot to get down especially when all I want to do is cry and hug him. 😫

Thank you for your patience. Any likes/comments here or on Pandora are the fuel that keeps the fic engine running.

‘Is this really where you grew up?’ she asked, her voice light with surprise.

He turned in time to see her cringe at the question. She’d been quiet since the drive away from the motel and the scene with Russ and his posse. No, scratch that. Ada had kept to herself because he’d asked her to and he’d been kicking himself for that ever since.

His stomach flipped whenever Ada asked him about himself; one part excitement, one part terror. He wanted to tell her everything and, in turn, he wanted to know her as well as he knew his deepest desires. But he was scared of the guy in those stories. Steadfast, optimistic, stable, responsible. He was sure that version of him had died on a forest floor. Now he was trying to live up to his own ghost.

Leon swallowed before replying glibly, ‘Nope! I grew up in a house.’

‘You know what I meant, Leon.’

God, he loved the way Ada said his name; like she owned the word, like no one had ever called him that but her.

‘Okay. I spent a lot of time here too,’ he conceded, nodding at the front facade of the church and the flawless circle of its Gothic stained glass window, ‘One Easter when I was fourteen, me and the chaplain’s son changed the sign out front to read: “Honk if you love Jesus”.’

She spluttered on a laugh, ‘You did what?’

‘You could barely hear mom’s sermon ‘cause of the car horns. I would’ve been grounded ‘til Christmas, but lucky for me she has a sense of humour! Damn. I was such a little asshole when I wanted to be.’

Ada bit her bottom lip until it shone pearlescent pink and he couldn’t look away from her mouth.

‘I could show you around,’ he offered suddenly, ‘If there was time.’

‘Really? And where would you take me?’

Her eyes glinted like a dare. He’d reignited her interest in him and they were back there again, at the edge of something beautiful and dangerous.

Go ahead. Impress me, rookie.

‘Well, um... there’s the Boott Cotton Mills Museum just across the canal,’ he suggested weakly, his throat suddenly dry, ‘I uh... I wrote an essay on it in High School.’

Her eyebrows twitched, ‘High School...?’

‘Yeah, it was on child labour reforms during the Industrial Revolution. I got an A minus.’

Oh for the love of- Shut up, shut up, shut up!

Ada blinked at him before turning away, ‘Interesting. Maybe some other time.’

Her eyes went dull, the glint of challenge extinguished. They were left beneath the cool light of the street lamp looking at everything but each other.

‘Come on. We should get going before I’m recognised,’ he said, leading her across the street, ‘We’ll check out the back lot.’

Leon remembered the first time Sarah had taken him to First Presbyterian to help out the day crew, officially as penance for his reckless escape attempt on his first night under her roof. He hadn’t been due to start school for another week and, while he’d been sincerely forgiven for his antics, he’d still been grounded.

The church ran a Day Centre from Monday to Friday, the doors opening at eight on the dot come rain or shine or biblical levels of snow. Refreshments, clean clothes and pastoral counselling were available no questions asked and, in the evenings, volunteers served hot meals alongside a rotating programme of art therapy, sign language classes, and addicts anonymous meetings.

Sarah had started the programme during her first few months in Lowell. The way some locals liked to tell it, Sarah had crashed into town on a wave of radical ideas. The Day Centre hadn’t been popular with everyone, bringing ‘undesirables’ and addicts from the fringes into the centre of town where they were harder to ignore.

‘I’ve brought the poor and the sick to Jesus’ doorstep, just like he instructed,’ she’d retorted, knowing the Bible was her home turf and she’d arrived ready to fight dirty, ‘If you’ve got a problem, take it up with him!’

‘I’m on a first name basis with the Mayor’s office,’ Sarah had boasted as they’d carried boxes of donated clothing through the back of the church, ‘Mayor Wiggins reminds me every time I stop by that I shouldn’t let it go to my head! I think he preferred the old pastor, Reverend Dawson. But Wiggy knows I’m better at getting things done. He’d rather boil his own head in lard than admit it though, so I’m not holding my breath for the key to the city!’

Young Leon had tipped his head back to take in the building’s decadent red brick and stained glass, its silver spire bouncing the sun towards every corner of Lowell.

‘Is all this yours?’ he’d asked.

He’d lingered at the threshold, a deep breath ballooning his stomach as he’d prepared himself to enter. The air had smelled apple-crisp, the pavement sun-dappled and warming the tops of his sneakers. It had stirred something familiar inside of him. But he hadn’t been inside a church since... since they’d buried his mom.

Sarah had chuckled, bumping the backdoor open with her behind, ‘Oh, no! Frannie belongs to everyone. But I am humbly responsible for her, like a sheepdog with her flock.’

She knew the church well enough that she could walk through it backwards without knocking into anything. All the better to keep her eye on Leon so she could read her new foster son’s lips.

‘What does that make me?’ he’d wondered as he’d followed her, ‘Like... a stray puppy or something?’

She’d hooted at that.

‘I don’t tell people who they are, Leon. But if I am to be completely honest, which under his roof is essential,’ she’d thrown the box of donated winter coats onto a nearby table and had turned to relieve him of the ones he’d carried, ‘I am sincerely looking forward to meeting the man you’ll become some day.’

Leon hadn’t known what to say to that.

Old foster parents, social workers, even a cop once; they’d all warned him that who he was becoming was someone he should be afraid of, ashamed of. But Sarah had greeted all sides of him like they’d known and loved each other for years.

The Day Centre had become a fixture of Leon’s teenage years from that day on. He’d never been much for the services, the singing, the prayer. But he’d helped out with the art classes and he’d learned how to cook in the community kitchen. He’d taken sign language classes after school and pulled weeds from the community garden across the street. He’d done his homework in Sarah’s study, her day sermons sailing in through the open window like a warm breeze.

When he’d turned fifteen and grown a foot taller in what had felt like a week, Leon had begun captaining one of the local street hockey teams. Their casual league had been run out of the back lot of the church.

He remembered long afternoons three times a week, two dozen kids howling like wild animals after sunset, and sweating even when it was so cold he could see his breath. Rhonda in the goal, as reliable as rain in September. She’d used the church to escape her alcoholic dad for a few hours a day. And Marty, a formerly homeless teen, playing offense and doing a backflip every time he scored. The slap of hockey sticks, rollerblades tearing up the tarmac, a puck smacking off a brick wall, his heart in his throat as a shot narrowly missed a car window.

There was still a dent in a lamp post from where one of Leon’s shots had gone wide. It had struck the post so hard the bulb had gone out. They’d played the rest of the night by the light of the church’s silver steeple and it had felt like an incredible dream.

It had been yesterday and forever ago. But as Leon walked the lot with Ada now, a part of him was convinced he’d be back here tomorrow, hockey stick in hand with his skates tied at the laces and slung over his shoulder.

‘The Day Centre closes early Thursdays,’ he told Ada as they lingered at the edge of the lot, ‘It shouldn’t be this busy.’

The lights were on and the church shimmered from every window. The front of the building was still bustling, so they’d given it a wide berth. Though Leon had his cap down, he’d grown up inside these walls. There was no way he’d make it to the rectory without being recognised.

Ada was getting restless. Her face was hidden by her hood, but Leon could see the tense line her shoulders made beneath her sweater.

‘Maybe things have changed,’ she muttered.

‘She’ll be here,’ he replied, ‘That much’ll be the same. I know it will.’

Minutes later the backdoor to the church opened and Pastor Sarah stepped into the warm summer night.

Her dark hair had regrown in gentle waves, softer and less curly than before her illness and now tinged with grey. She wore a thick cardigan, unbuttoned and showing off a baggy Guns and Roses tour t-shirt that Leon had stolen from her closet about a hundred times before it had stopped fitting him.

Leon muffled a quiet laugh into the collar of his jacket, but deep down he felt like sinking to his knees.

He knew Lowell’s streets. He knew there was a house a few blocks away where his old bed waited and his sketchbooks tumbled out of the wardrobe in an avalanche of memories. But ‘home’ was a complicated concept for a guy who’d had so many. A one bedroom in Chicago snuggled safe between his mom and dad, Buchanan with its dreams unfulfilled, in shady motels forever awake in front of a TV with the sound as low as it would go, and finally seven foster homes; a number that made ‘normal’ people from ‘normal’ families wince so he’d stopped repeating it until he could almost imagine that his early childhood had happened to someone else.

For Leon, ‘home’ had eventually come to mean Sarah reminding him to be back by ten. Home was the leftover casserole in the fridge with his name on it. It was about not being alone at the kitchen table because Sarah would always wait up and ask him how his game went. She’d even pretended to understand the rules.

Someone Leon didn’t recognise stepped out with Sarah. It was an older woman in a long cotton dress. She and Sarah shared a quick hug before the woman left for her car. Sarah stood in the doorway and waved goodbye. Then she slid back into the church, disappearing like a dream at sunrise.

Ada was watching Leon. Her gaze passed up and down his face, mapping the angle of his nose and the cleft of his chin like they’d just met. Leon knew what she was thinking.

He and Sarah sang off-key to the same songs, they ate their eggs over-easy with too much Tabasco sauce, and they both thought cilantro tasted like soap. But they didn’t look even a little bit alike.

‘I’m adopted,’ he explained.

She frowned, surprised, ‘Oh. I see. I’m sorry.’

‘I’m not.’

‘I didn’t mean... I just didn’t know.’

‘But you knew my mom was a pastor?’

‘It was in your obituary.’

Leon did a double-take, ‘My... what? I have a damned obituary?’

‘Of course you do! You died,’ Ada replied sardonically, ‘Your colleagues had some interesting things to say about you.’

‘Yeah, I bet,’ he winced, and his mind raced to suss out exactly what Ada knew about the old him as filtered through the eyes of his peers. They’d treated Leon like he was fresh out of school and an old man at the same time, ‘Come on. It’s now or never.’

The back of the church held Sarah’s office, a common room for the staff, and a library that smelled like cold coffee and chocolate. Leon opened the door quietly and checked it was empty before ushering Ada inside.

They heard voices echoing from the church hall beyond the big wooden doors:

‘Has anyone seen Pastor Sarah? We’re running low on baby formula!’

‘She’s in her study. Don’t trouble her. I’ll call the supplier first thing tomorrow.’

‘I’ve barely seen her all day, Lucille. Is this ‘cause of that silly protest outside the Governor’s office? I told her to take it easy!’

‘She’s tired, Frank. Let her be.’

Sarah’s office door was ajar. Leon could see her shadow spilling over the desk and onto the carpet. He could smell her hand lotion, its residue on the doorknob. His eyes drifted shut as his hands formed a tight claw around the knob like he’d forgotten how doors worked.

Maybe this was a mistake. A panicked sensation surged inside his chest. Ada was right. Umbrella could be monitoring Sarah. He could put her in danger just be showing his face around town. He should go, shouldn’t he? Right now, just go and leave her be. He could think of another way to track down Jill and Chris.

And what was he going to say to her? How could he explain what had happened to him? She’d thought he was dead for nearly two years, but at least her ignorance had kept her safe.

Leon tensed when he felt a pressure on his forearm. He looked back to find Ada gently peeling him away from the door.

‘I’ll go first,’ she whispered, her dark eyes trained on his face, ‘I’ll make sure she’s alone.’

He nodded but Ada was already slipping past. She opened the door just enough to squeeze through.

‘Pastor Morris?’

A chair scraped the floor as Sarah stood.

‘Yes?’ her voice sounded jittery like she’d just woken from a nap, ‘Hold on... Let me just...’

There was a long pause. Leon guessed Sarah was fumbling with her cochlear implant.

‘Could you come closer, honey?’ Sarah said breathlessly, ‘I can’t quite hear you all the way over there. Are you here about tomorrow’s charity drive?’

‘No. No, I’m...’

Leon swayed on his feet, his ears ringing. He’d been so nervous, he’d forgotten to warn Ada that Sarah was deaf. He mentally kicked himself.

Then Ada raised her voice and when she spoke, she filled all corners of the little study, her voice lifting its high ceiling and rustling the pages of every tome. Like a fair summer wind, she was the little lift he needed to make it home.

‘I’m a friend of your son.’

Then it was as if they were the only three people in the building. A silence enveloped them, as dense and safe as stone. Leon didn’t feel himself move, but he felt Ada’s hand, warm and insistent around his wrist as she pulled him through the doorway and into his mother’s study.

Sarah, to her credit, didn’t cry out. She didn’t seem to be breathing either.

‘Mom?’

Her hands flew to her mouth. Her eyes turned red to signal an oncoming wave of tears. But when her hand fell, Leon saw she was smiling like it was the first time he’d ever called her that. It wasn’t, not by a long shot.

Leon took a step towards her. Then he stopped, realising that Ada was still holding his wrist. Her grip was loose, almost reassuring. Not too much pressure, just enough; like a whispered phrase he felt all the way up his arm to straight to his heart: ‘I’m right here’.

When his hand slipped from hers, Leon still felt her warmth; that fair wind driving him forward.

Sarah whined softly. She rubbed at her throat like the words had gotten tangled up in there and she needed pry them away from each other. Her fingers were trembling and he realised she was too overwhelmed to sign to him.

He stepped towards her and raised his hands to tell her:

I’ll explain everything. I promise.

I’m so sorry, mom. I’m sorry...

He made a fist with his thumb extended and scored circles with it deep into the centre of his chest. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.

Sarah dove forward and latched both her hands over his fist. Then she tugged him forward and threw her arms around his shoulders. She clung to her son like the grave could snatch him back. She buried her wet nose into the crook of his neck. Then she keened against his shoulder, a wordless cry of grief and joy combined that shook his core.

‘I love you so much. Okay? I love you,’ Leon murmured into the crown of her head where his tears were already soaking her hair. He hoped she could feel the raw honesty in his voice even if she couldn’t make out the words, ‘I missed you. I did! I missed you, mom.’

Who knows how long they huddled in the centre of her study? Long enough that his face was still pink but finally dry when they parted. Long enough that Sarah could stand to let him go so she could snatch a tissue from the box on her desk while laughing at how terrifying and strange and wonderful this was.

And long enough that when Leon looked over his shoulder, he saw that Ada had disappeared.

🥲

To be continued...

#fic: icarus #resident evil fanfiction #leon s kennedy #ada wong #aeon #leon x ada #ada x leon #scientist ada x test subject leon #for clarification: leon's foster mother is deaf #and leon started to learn american sign language when he went to live with her

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