#anyways last time he played Front Street for me and i was conflicted

[lonely--seeker]

I keep dreaming Will Wood's coming to play at my city and I constantly wake up in a state of fulfillment and grief.

[h0tchner]

Something More (Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Reader)

pairing: aaron hotchner x fem!reader

summary: Written as a request for the loml, Abby! (@heliotropehotch!) "Could I have a hotch x reader request thats got a love confession- maybe a hurt comfort scene where the reader is maybe torn up about something like self deprecation or some cop makes an off-handed compliment and he cups her cheeks and wipes the tears away? Pretty please 🥺"

word count: 3.2k

includes: love confessions! hurt/comfort, protective!hotch, mutual pining!!!, kissing, a little teaser of sexytimes, work tension, BAU!reader, crying and other emotions, rude af deputies, fluff soooo much fluff

rating: 18+ (cursing, crude nicknames, suggestive sexual mentions, and brief explicit sexual content at the very end)

a/n: HELLO BESTIES! I hope you love this one! If you want a smutty part two, let me know. PLS (!!!!!) interact if you liked this fic; rb, comment, like and/or send me a request if you have ideas for future fics! i love y’all! - rivka💞

some pals tags: @arsonhotchner @laurensprentiss @mrsh0tchner @ssahotchie

“It’s time to give the profile,” Hotch announces.

Six words. One sentence. Zero hesitation.

“Go and gather everybody in the bullpen,” he directs Spencer, who nods and quietly exits the conference room to collect your team and the rest of the Sherrif’s department of this small, Wisconsin town.

You stand on the opposite side of the table from your boss, looking at him expectantly. Hotch meets your gaze. His tongue darts out from between his lips as he glares at you from beneath thick lashes. You wait for your instructions, but the instructions don’t come. Rather, you both stand there in a staring contest, unmoving.

You can’t help but feel bare under his scrutiny, but this feeling is nothing new. Every time Hotch looks at you, it feels as if every fibre of your being is on fire. It’s been this way since the very first day you started with the BAU, and, over time, the flame has only burned brighter.

You and Hotch have grown close over the two years you’ve been with the team: closer than he’s been with any of his other agents, even Rossi. It all started with one long night spent together in his office, sharing cold Chinese food, scribbling away at mountains of paperwork. It was then, sitting across the desk from him, laughing at his incredulous reaction when he dropped some Lo Mein on an After-Action Report, that you knew: you were in deep. From then on, your Chinese food office “dates” became a regular occurrence. And then, those regular occurrences transformed into other regular occurrences; to name a few: rides on the jet, side by side, sharing soft glances and tired smiles after hard cases… holding hands to comfort each other when emotionally vulnerable… and even bringing you your favourite coffee on mornings that you’ve needed an extra boost. All these little moments of kindness and care are what made you fall in love with him. You would cross the line from coworkers to more in a heartbeat if you knew for certain that he felt the same way about you. But you refuse to take a risk on losing what you currently have with Hotch for the chance at something more.

The way that Hotch looks at you now, tall and commanding, feels very much like something more… it’s incredibly intimate. He’s effectively stripped away all the layers of protection you’ve built up to do your job with one pointed glance. What you don’t know is that he too feeling the same way, and is toeing a line between being your boss, being your friend, and being your “something more.”

Hotch breathes out hard through his nose. You watch as he swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he does. His jaw ticks. He shifts on his feet.

“I want you to sit this one out,” he says.

“Hotch?” You question, puzzled. Nothing about this day has prepared you for him to say that. You start racking your brain, trying to figure out why he would give you such a ridiculous order. Did you piss him off somehow? Did you play-flirt with Morgan too much in the car? Overlook an important lead? Did he not like the coffee you made him this morning?

Looking over at him, you swear he almost looks conflicted… but it doesn’t last.

“This is not up for debate. Do you understand me? You’re sitting this one out.” He repeats, steadfast.

“I don’t understand, what did I do wrong?” You ask more defensively this time, wishing he would give you more information. Something, anything besides the “SSA Aaron Hotchner” routine he was pulling on you now.

“I never said you did anything wrong.” Hotch moves forward a step, finally breaking eye contact, opting to gather files and loose papers into his arms.

“So, then what it is?” You cross your arms, stepping forwards as well, challenging him with your posture.

He doesn’t respond, nor does he look at you. Instead, he lumps more files into his arms before rounding the table, moving swiftly toward the door.

You have never, ever disobeyed one of his orders because his orders have always made sense… until now.

“Hotch,” you say sternly, your stubborn feet moving to stand between him and the exit before your logical brain can stop you.

He’s practically up against you, cornering you between his solid body and the old wooden door. His height dominates your shorter frame, and the heat coming off his body is positively criminal. Your heart flutters in your chest as he stares you down, calculating his next move.

“Out of my way, Agent Y/L/N.” He breathes out, tensing his jaw.

“Fine,” you stutter, “just tell me why and then I’ll let you go.” Your confidence wavers as you’re a little taken aback by his official use of your title and last name.

You’re hurt, confused… and he knows this. No matter how hard you’re putting on your tough-girl FBI face, Hotch can see right through it. He knows this order is unjustified, but he has his own reasons: reasons that he can’t get into. Not now.

Hotch lets his eyes dart to the side, past your head, not daring to look you in the eyes. He wills himself to be gentle.

“I can’t tell you, but I need you to trust me. Sit this one out.” He verbalizes, looking at you a little softer now. His face relaxes a little more into the Hotchner you’ve come to know: the one who calls his son every night to read a bedtime story, the one who grins every time you beat him in chess.

You two stand there a moment longer, your heart racing from the heat of the quarrel and your current proximity to your Unit Chief.

Hotch opens his mouth to say something else, but a knock on the door behind you stops him in his tracks. You step aside and he whips open the door; a very apologetic Spencer stands behind it.

“Sorry to interrupt,” Spencer says, clearing his throat awkwardly, “but everyone is ready in the bullpen.”

“Thank you,” Hotch nods, stepping forward to leave, but you grab a hold of his arm.

“Hotch,” you begin, not entirely sure what you want to say.

“Later,” he answers, finishing the unspoken thought.

With that, he’s out the door and you’re left alone with only stale coffee and a bunch of disorganized files to keep you company.

You close the door behind them with a sigh, letting yourself rest against it again, closing your eyes for a moment in defeat. Three days on this case. Three days of hard work, interviews, and research just to get benched in the end zone. You wish that you didn’t love Hotch, because maybe if you didn’t, it would be easier to disobey him. Opening your eyes again, you scan the quiet room. Then, something in front of you catches your eye and you get an idea.

On the table rests one of the precinct’s phones. It is all too easy to use the conference feature to listen in on one of the other phone lines: specifically, one in the bullpen.

You grin and rush over to the device, feeling a little bit sheepish for not listening to Hotch, but you push the buttons anyway, and bring the receiver up to your ear.

At first, all you hear is the shuffling of papers and muffled voices. You take a seat, leaning back in your chair like the cat who caught the canary. Several more moments pass of bureaucratic white noise, but then, someone speaks.

“Where’s the slutty one?” A male voice whispers.

“Oh, Agent Y/N? Probably on her knees somewhere waiting for her boss to come back.” A second male voice snickers back, matching the volume of the first.

You gasp, the phone slipping out of your hand, landing on the table with a loud thunk.

Scrambling, you grab it again, your other hand coming to rest over your open mouth.

“Don’t know why he wouldn’t let us use her as bait. This whole case could’ve been wrapped up and done by now if we just stuck her in a skimpy dress and shoved her out on the street.” One of them muses.

“Obviously because he’s sleeping with her.” The other mutters. “Agent Hotchner looked like he was going to take your head off when you asked him about it. Thought he was going to deck you for suggesting disguising her as a hooker to lure this guy out.”

“Yeah, he did. She looks like the victims, though. Bet she’s a whore like them too.”

“Deputies, we’re starting.” You hear a third voice pipe up. This time it’s one you recognize: it’s Hotch. “This is your final warning. I don’t want to hear another word out of you for the rest of the day. Not only is this wildly inappropriate, but it is insulting and vile. If I hear either of you speak about, look at, or interact with Agent Y/N, I will make sure you are both charged with harassment and fired from this department. Is that clear?”

With that, your eyes nearly pop out of your head. The deputies mumble something back, but you can’t hear over the sound of papers rustling.

Stunned, you set the phone back in its holder and force air into your lungs.

Waves of thoughts come crashing down on you. You have so many questions and so many answers and it’s all just… too much.

Suddenly, you know that you need to be anywhere but here.

You stand, shoving the chair aside and burst out of the conference room, fuming. You power-walk down the hall, and past the bullpen, focused on getting yourself outside and into the fresh air. Understandably, you don’t look up as you pass the profile briefing, so you don’t see Hotch’s brow furrow at the sight of you. You also don’t see him hand his papers to JJ, excuse himself, and race to follow you out the front door.

Once you’re outside in the parking lot, you look up at the cloudy, grey sky, and the tears start to fall. You feel guilty and angry; part of you wants to run away and cry, but the other part of you wants to walk straight up to those men and kick them straight in the dick. They not only called you vile names, but they also called the victims – those poor, dead women – the same. You sniffle, thinking about how Hotch stepped in and protected you, stood up for you.

Hotch… the thought of him makes you cry a little harder.

You start to pace around, kicking gravel as you went.

Were you that obvious? Was your crush so rampant that two low-level deputies in the middle of nowheresville picked up that easily on how you really felt about your boss?

“Fuck you two,” you curse under your breath to nobody as you choke back sobs. You kick a large piece of gravel as hard and as far as you can, but it doesn’t help.

“Are you okay?” A voice prods from behind you, gently, hesitantly, as if not to spook you. It’s a curt baritone, laced with concern. It’s Hotch.

“Hotch,” you breathe, turning to face him, furiously wiping tears away from your eyes.

“What happened?” He frowns, stepping closer to you, a comforting hand reaching forward to take yours.

Any other day you would grasp it contently, letting him console you. Today? All you can hear are the deputy’s comments. Sleeping with her. Whore. On her knees. You’re embarrassed and ashamed, so, you involuntarily step back.

“It’s nothing,” you put your hands up, looking down at your feet.

“Y/N,” Hotch says, his heart pounding in his chest.

You look back up, locking on his beautiful, angular face. You see every feature clouded in a haze of sorrow and concern.

You know you must swallow your pain and try to get it out. He wasn’t about to let you off easy.

“You… they… I…” you begin, but never finish your sentence. Instead, you start to cry again.

Wordlessly, Hotch moves to cup your face in his hands. They’re large and slightly calloused, encasing your cheeks as his thumbs gently swipe away the tears. His soft eyes search your watery ones; despite your better instinct, you bring your hands up to rest on his chest. You feel his breathing hitch. One of his hands moves from your face to cover your smaller hand against his chest. The two of you stay there, just like that, for another handful of heartbeats. You focus on his hands and how warm and safe they make you feel. Soon enough, you stop crying and gather the courage to speak.

“I heard them.” You whisper, not trusting yourself to say another word. You know that Hotch knows exactly who “them” is, and exactly what it is that you’ve heard.

His brow creases and his hand grips yours tighter. He cleans another tear off your cheek, and then lets that hand down to ball in a fist at his side.

“I’m going to kill them.” Hotch states, furious and heartbroken.

“Me first.” You sniffle.

Your boss sighs, giving you a heartfelt look. Leave it to you to make a joke at a time like this.

“I told them this morning that if I ever heard them say another thing about you, I was going to have their badges. I should’ve kicked them off this case hours ago.” He huffs, closing his eyes, letting his other hand, the one that was covering yours, drop down to his side.

You know this look all too well. You know he’s blaming himself.

“It’s not your fault,” you offer, smoothing your hands over his chest to settle on his upper arms. “Hotch, look at me.”

He doesn’t at first, but eventually, he opens his eyes. His hands open and close at his sides, as if he’s fighting them to be still.

“I’m sorry.” He breathes out. “For everything. For handling this how I did.”

“I’m not.” You chime in, feeling braver, calmer now that you’re here with him. Your comment earns a quizzical glance and a slight head tilt from Hotch, urging you to go on. “You stood up for me. You honoured me. You respected me. You protected me. You –“

With a fierce momentum, your next sentence is swallowed by Hotch’s lips pressing into yours. His hands come up to rest on your hips, and then circle around your waist to pull you closer. He’s warm and soft and intense; you whimper into the kiss, moving your hands to rest on the back of his neck and card in his hair. The kiss is over far too soon for your liking, both of you needing to pull back and inhale.

Hotch looks at you with heavy eyes, hands gripping your hips. He smells like coffee and pine, with a hint of something spicier. Everything about him is overwhelming yet grounding.

“Finally,” you whisper, hands clasped around his neck. “It’s about damn time.”

“It is,” is all he musters, still dazed by the audacity of his own actions.

“Aaron?” You lick your lips, feeling his hands squeeze you tight at your use of his first name.

“Yeah?” He can’t help but start to smile, showing off his adorable dimples and crinkled lines around his eyes.

“I love you; do you know that?” You say in earnest.

Aaron giggles, giggles at your confession, and then attacks your lips again, making you yelp at the surprise. His lips detach from yours only to pepper kisses on your tear-stained cheeks, jaw, and forehead.

“I love you too,” he breathes out, giddier than you’ve ever seen him. He looks like a kid in a candy shop, and it makes your heart leap into your throat.

Just then, a car beeps on the road, startling you two. You’re suddenly reminded where you are, and why you’re here. The thought of having to go back inside makes you groan, and you bury your head into his chest for a moment. He hums into your hair, planting a kiss on the top of your head.

Reluctantly, you pull yourself off his chest to look up at him.

“Forget about them,” you say, “go finish giving the profile so we can close this case and get the hell out of this town so you can take me home and show me how much you love me.” You smile at him, pulling him in for another, lighter kiss.

He grins against your lips, meeting you for another smooch.

“Yes ma’am,” Hotch replies, giving you a kiss on the tip of your nose.

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

Three months later, you and Aaron are coming down from your highs, sweaty and blissed-out after an amazing lovemaking session. After the team wrapped up the case and made it back to Virginia in one piece, you and Hotch went out to dinner the next night. He took you to dine in at the Chinese restaurant that you both usually ordered from on those nights you both spent pining and yearning in his office. It was… perfect. He was perfect. Just as your friendship had blossomed, so did your relationship. One date led to another, one gesture turned into more, and you and Aaron settled into life as a couple with ease. You hadn’t brought up the incident with the deputies since it had happened the afternoon that Hotch had followed you out to the parking lot to wipe away your tears.

Now, as you lay in his arms, wrapped in his strong, loving, embrace, your mind wanders back to their words. However, you don’t feel animosity toward them, rather it makes you giggle.

“What’s so funny hot stuff?” Aaron cracks open an eye and smiles down at you. One arm is tucked underneath his head, and the other is tracing patterns on the bare skin of your shoulder.

“Oh, just that case we had in Wisconsin a few months back.” You nuzzle deeper into his chest with another laugh.

Hotch frowns, recalling the memory, thinking about the way those awful men spoke about you.

“How is that funny?” He asks, hesitantly.

“They called me a whore.” You say nonchalantly, peering innocently into his amber eyes. You bring your palm up to swipe across his cheek softly, feeling the light stubble of his jaw underneath your fingertips.

Both of his eyes are open now, and his hand motions cease their patterns on your skin. He’s confused, and the face he’s giving you is downright adorable. It makes you giggle again.

You detach yourself from his grasp and sit yourself up, carefully shimmying down the bed. Aaron’s eyes never leave you.

You nestle yourself between his legs and look up at him with a smirk.

“They were partially right.” You offer, studying the small changes in his face, watching as his eyes glaze over with lust for the second time that night.

“I am a whore.” You pout suggestively and flutter your eyelashes. “A whore for you, Hotch.”

He shakes his head at you in amusement and chuckles, but it quickly turns into a deep, throaty moan as you wrap your lips around the tip of him.

As you start to bob your head on his already hardening length, you think to yourself: as much as I hate to say it... someone should really give those two deputies a raise.

[by-soleil]

spell

Pairing: Chwe Vernon x Female Reader

Word Count: 2K

Genre: angst, just angst (okay maybe a little fluff in you squint)

Warning: kissing, conflicted vernon

This fic was inspired by "Spell - Niki"

A Vernon birthday special<3

•••

This dangerous game you’ve been playing with Vernon, have gone out of your control. Your friends keep warning you that you’re playing with fire. And Vernon is not someone who can easily be fixed. He’s never gonna show you the same love you’ve been showing him for the last couple of months. And that you and Vernon should just stay friends.

You of course know that your friends intentions are great, not wanting you to swallow the hard pill that you know you’d have to swallow eventually if you keep this shenanigans up. But upon seeing or even just thinking about the boy, your heart turns into a mushy mess. Risking the better part of your sanity for the greek-god looking boy that keeps addressing you as his ‘good friends’.

Delightful.

“We should get our nails done. I keep breaking a nail, its ridiculous.” one of your friend says from the bean bag across the room. Flashing her broken nail so everyone could see.

You cringe, “That must’ve been painful. I’m down, my gel’s all chipped anyway. What about you?” you turn you head to your other friend who’s currently busy with her laptop.

“Yeah, sure. Give me like 10 minutes, I have to submit this paper. How are y’all not panicking over this? This shit worth a third of the final mark.” she throws suspicious glare towards the both of you.

“That’s one of the reason you should get a boyfriend, babe. Our boyfriends got it done for us hours ago—oops, I mean my boyfriend and Vernon did. Since, he’s not like your boyfriend or anything.” you friends sarcastically say, pointing her broken nail towards you. Making you roll your eyes, months of being teased have numb you from their remarks.

The thing about Vernon is, you could never figure him out. He doesn’t talk much with other people, sometimes even with you. But when he does, it’s like a joy ride down the happy abyss that is Vernon’s mind.

Your phone rings with Vernon’s name flashes on the screen. You read the room, knowing what happens next is not gonna end well. You stand up and leave you bestfriends dorm room.

You smile at the screen and pick up the call. “Hey, what’s up?”

You can hear his car stopping through the phone then the familiar sound of handbrake being pulled up. “Are you still at Wonwoo’s girlfriend?” he ask softly with voice so deep you thought you’re drowning.

“Yep, still here. Why you ask?” you ask despite fully knowing he wants to see you and is probably out front already.

He pauses for a bit, you can hear him opening a packet of snack. “I'm at the parking lot. Wanna grab something to eat and hang at my place?”

Classic Vernon date night combo. Not that you mind, you’d take all the time he’s willing to give you. It’s like he’s got you under some spell.

A smile breaks on your face, forgetting the fact you just agreed to get your nails down with you friends.

When you step back inside the room, you friends throwing you a knowing annoyed look. The one that used to bother you, but not anymore. “Sorry, I’ll have to raincheck on the nail. Vernon’s out front.” you gather your stuff, avoiding any of their gaze.

“You should leave his ass.” you hear your friends high-fiving, agreeing with each other. Ganging up on you.

“He loves me guys, he’s just scared. It takes time to heal.” you sigh, stuffing all you belongings into your suffocated tote bag. Maybe you should’ve let Vernon bought you that pretty—and super expensive—bag. If you ask, he’d probably drive you to the store right now. He never really say no to you, except for the rare times you asked him to make the relationship official.

You’ve known Vernon since freshmen year, you saw how he broke down when his ex left him for an accountant that she met at the starbucks down the street of your campus.

How he slowly pull himself back up and eventually got tangled with you in this mushy mess. So, you know better than to pester him for a stupid label. You know he likes you, loves you even. He just wont say it out loud. But through his actions, you hear him loud and clear.

After escaping your friends rage, you skip down the parking lot and beeline for his car. “Oooh, you smell good.” you greet him with a quick peck on his cheek.

“Thanks, just showered at the gym. I know you don’t like to hug me when I’m all sweaty.” he ruffles your hair making you gasp. Hands flying up a second after to smooth the mess he just created. “Did you know, tea tree oil body wash is good for bacne? I don’t.” he laughs.

You smile, so wide your vision blurred. Guess tonight you’re having happy abyss Vernon. Your favorite Vernon.

“Duh, that’s why I keep buying them. Who told you?” you hide your smiling face as you fasten the seatbelt.

“My sister. You know what, let’s get some, I wanna get some for you to use when you’re staying over.” He nonchalantly say not knowing the damage those words just did to your mushy heart.

With excitement filling up your whole body, you lean back to his side and plant kisses on his cheek. You need an outlet for all this butterflies.

“Yeay! Let’s go!” you practically shout as he drive his car out of the parking lot.

•••

When you finally reach Vernon’s apartment, you are beat. Shopping with Vernon is never a 15-minute thing. Everything catches his attention.

“I don’t think I'm going home tonight. My legs are screaming.” you plop down on his bed, staring at the ceiling you’re seeing a few times a week.

“Then stay, I’ll drive you home before class starts tomorrow.”

Duh, of course he has to drive you tomorrow, how else are you gonna get to your place since Vernon lives off-campus in his fancy one bedroom. Well, there’s always uber, but why bother when this pretty man offers you a ride every time.

When you're out of the shower smelling like musk and tea tree oil—if that even make sense, you make your way to his closet. Passing him who’s sitting on the edge of his bed trying to solve a rubik’s cube.

Your eyes immediately dart to the big shopping bag with tissue paper peeking everywhere. “Is that—” you paused, reaching for the bag. “Vernon, come here a sec.” you call for him.

He doesn’t even look at you, his eyes are focused on the stupid cube he’s holding.

“What is this?” you hold the shopping bad to his chest, making him looking at you for a few seconds before focusing back to the damned cube.

“Oh, it’s the bag you wanted but told me not to get.” his tone is very unbothered, as if dropping a slump of cash on a purse for someone you keep calling ‘friend’ is normal.

You roll your eyes, “Exactly, then why did you get it?” you drop the bag and fold your hands in front of you.

“Cause you need a bag, that poor thing had its time. What’s up with you?” his eyes finally left the cube for it to land on your furious one.

You walk out of the closet and sit on his bed. Slightly cursing yourself for not snatching a hoodie from his closet. Now you have to have the talk again with Vernon, only this time you wearing a freaking bath robe.

“Why are you making this difficult? You needed a bag and I wanna get you a bag.” he asks with a voice so deep you had to shake your head in order to fight back the mushy feeling.

“You don’t just give your friend a bag that costs a few grand, Vernon.” Vernon sighs, closing his eyes when he finally connected the dots to where this conversation is going.

You then stand up, taking his face with both of your hands to pull him into a kiss. It’s silent as you and Vernon trade mouths. But through his lips, you can hear everything. Loud and clear.

Pulling away, you keep your forehead glued to his. “Why won’t you trust me?” you breathe. Making him close his eyes. “You know I’ll stay. You keep saying ‘all the stakes are high’ but you know damn well I’ll get myself a wings.”

You can feel his breath slowing down with every move your fingers make on his jaw. Knowing him like the back of you hand to easily calm him down.

He doesn’t say anything when his eyes starts to open. “I know you love me Vernon, I do. If it’s me changing my mind out of the blue and left you that you’re so afraid of, I’ll show you. I’ll show you how I’ll stay through it all. I’ll wait for heaven to break this spell you’re under. I promised you.

Minutes passed, he doesn’t say anything. His lips pursed together, holding his words at bay. The words you’re so desperately want to hear.

But Vernon stay silent. For a long time.

After what feels like forever, his hands cup you jaw. Bringing you lips together, giving you no answer. Just keep dragging you down under the spell you wish to break.

“Please don’t ever change,” he breathes between kisses. Eyes red from holding back tears.

“I won’t,” you keep chanting, hoping it’ll be engraved to his brain.

“I don’t wanna lose you. Don’t leave me.” it pains you to hear the words spilling from his mouth.

You bury you head on his chest as he pulls you to the bed. He cradles you like a baby in his arms. Soothing hands running down you back. Pulling you deeper into the realm of unconsciousness.

You wake up the next morning with throbbing headache from all the crying you did last night. Vernon is nowhere to be found.

You get ready, slipping into his hoodie—that you for sure will keep. “I got you coffee,” Vernon burst into the room, startling you. His gummy smile plastered on his face.

“Thanks,” you give him a small smile, taking the coffee.

Vernon acts like nothing happened last night. Casually kissing the top of you head before pulling you out for breakfast—if cereal and hot pocket counts.

The drive to your place is very calm. With Vernon humming to the music cheerfully. As if nothing ever happened last night.

When he drops you off, he pulls you in for a kiss. Then he pulls away with a smile. Though you’re very tired with this endless cycle, you can’t help but to give him a smile back.

You throw yourself on the bed, sighing so loud you afraid yourr\ grumpy neighbor would stomp your door anytime soon.

Without even realizing it, tears started falling out. Leaving darken stain on your bedsheets.

You close your eyes. Praying.

Praying? You never pray. But with this throbbing pain in your chest, you’ll take all the help you can get to get Vernon out of the spell. Or better yet, taking you out of the fucking spell.

•••

more of my stuff on my masterlist🤍 & twitter🌞

special tags; @aedreamzy @eleven23

my taglist are open<3

[randomshyperson]

Wanda Maximoff x Dom!Reader - No jealousy

Summary: You and Wanda have an established relationship, and you were away for two weeks due to a mission. Wanda is testing your limits, and everyone seems to insist that you are jealous.

Warnings: (+18), Smut, Switch!Reader (most dominant reader),  power  dynamics change, bottom!wanda, teasing, spanking; also mentions of torture, heavy past etc.

Notes: I've been trying to bring in a little bit of dom reader, and it turned out to be a bit of switch or soft!dom reader, but it's still pretty dom I think. Let me know what you think please ‘cause i’m not sure i’m writing smut correctly haha. Nota em português: Eu fui traduzir a expressão "que baixaria" e não achei nada em inglês que tivesse o mesmo impacto, fiquei bem chateada kkkk que pegar a referencia finge que é engraçado imaginar o Bucky falando isso na cena da cozinha obrigada.

Words:  5.555 K || Read on AO3

Marks:  @mionemymind @abimess​

Translations:  Scheiße = Shit ||  Amerikanischer Müll = American Trash.

//-//

Avengers Compound, New York, Present.

Throwing your jacket against the kitchen counter, you sighed in irritation.

Steve was mumbling something about responsibility and morals and you have a headache. 

"Are you even listening to me?" Steve asked irritated and you let out a dry laugh as you looked around for something to drink.

"Sure, cap." You snickered without looking at him, and Steve let out an impatient sigh.

"I need you to start being careful, we can't risk the safety of the team..."

"Is anyone hurt, Steve?" You interrupted without a patient, punching the countertop. Steve was startled by your sudden response, but you didn't back down. Natasha and Bucky who were entering just behind you, exchanged glances before heading outside. 

"This is not the point."

"That's the only thing that matters." You retort angrily. "I will do whatever is necessary." You assure seriously. "You worry about morality in the meantime."

Steve lets out an irritated sigh.

"You're not listening to me." He resumes crossing his arms. "There are lines we must not cross, or we are no different than those we face." He continued in earnest, and you rolled your eyes, finally finding a drink under the counter, and grabbing one of the glasses from the sink to pour yourself. "We need boundaries. If you don't change this attitude, you are no different than Hydra..."

The glass in your hand breaks, startling Steve again. 

"Don't ever say something like that again." You angrily warn him and he frowns worried about the shards and that you might have hurt yourself, but you just turn and walk out of the kitchen.

You walk into the first bathroom you find, heading toward the sink to clean your hand. You watch carefully as the glass falls from your skin and the wounds close up.

You stare at your reflection in the mirror. Even though you have spent the last few hours in conflict, there is no bruise. You have even been shot twice, but no one could tell if it weren't for the torn fabric on your shirt. No one would know about the explosion you survived if it weren't for the ashes on the fabric. You were perfect fighting machine, exactly as Hydra wanted you to be.

Pushing away the painful memories that threatened to dwell in your mind, you turned off the faucet and wiped your hands, leaving the bathroom afterwards.

//-//

Hydra Military Base, Old Sokovia Area, 8 hours ago.

You rummage through the metal drawers impatiently. This mission is taking too long, and you are starting to get annoyed by the lack of action. Silence is never a good sign in jobs like this.

And then as if the universe was listening to your complaints, you heard a noise of something falling.

" Sounds to the north, I'm going to investigate." You warned your companions over the communicator, starting to move. Steve said something about waiting for reinforcements, but you were already opening the mechanical door, a pistol in your left hand.

The impact of two shots pushed you backward, and you felt something run down your uniform, and then a sharp pain. Laughing lightly, you fell to your knees.

"We got one." You heard someone mutter, and then there was a man getting up from behind a table at the far end of the room. Another man stopped hiding from one of the bookshelves, and they walked over to you. 

"Sure thing, friends." You grumbled panting slightly. 

"Scheiße, we got the healer." The one with the mustache muttered as soon as he looked at you closely, and you let out a smug smile as he took a step back. Your colleague was pointing his gun at you again, but you were already grabbing his wrist as you stood up and threw him to the ground.

You fought for a few moments, and you made a mental note to thank Natasha for improving your fighting considerably since the last mission, soon you knocked him out.

The other man was fighting what appeared to be a bronze door that was jammed, and you pulled the bullets out of your shirt before you pulled him by the shoulders and threw him to the floor.

" Come on buddy, I don't have all day." You warned pointing your own pistol at the man, who looked at you angrily. "Tell me what you were doing around here."

"Amerikanischer Müll" He cursed and you rolled your eyes, moving to kick him in the nose.

The man gasped in pain as he lifted his head again, his nose bloodied.

"Do you want to try again?" You asked irritated and he spat blood before speaking again.

"We come back for what is ours." He replied with irritation, and you frowned in confusion. But before you could ask anything else, Steve and Natasha rushed into the place.

Natasha was in charge of the interrogation, it was her thing anyway, and you helped Steve open the jammed door.

You entered the room next, and you choked in surprise when your gaze met the files displayed on the holograms around the place.

"So what did you find in there?" You heard Nat ask through the communicator, but you didn't answer, trying to control the anger that was spreading throughout your body.

Displayed in front of you were the files of the Maximoff twins' experiments, several pictures of the tests Hydra had run on them. One particular video caught your attention. It was Wanda, lying on a stretcher, several leather chains holding her to the mattress while Hydra sent electric shocks through a machine to her head, making her scream. You broke the projector with one punch, and Steve tried to calm you down.

"Hey, breathe." He asked raising his hands to your shoulders. You shook your head, panting.

The sound of Wanda's scream still echoed through the room, even without the image, and you grunted in anger, pushing Steve away.

Natasha blinked in surprise when you stormed into the room next, interrupting her interrogation when you kicked the Hydra agent in the chest. She took two steps back, surprised at your anger, but she barely had time to be shocked and you were already lifting the agent by his shirt in the air.

"How could you do that to them?" You asked angrily, throwing the agent to the ground. The man laughed helplessly, spitting blood. Steve grabbed you next, and you threw him across the room.

"They were always ours to play with." The man grumbled and you stepped forward again, kicking him in the face. He laughed bewilderedly, practically choking on his own blood. "Just like you."

"You'll pay for that." You muttered angrily and then punched him in the face. The man just laughed and that increased his fury. "What the fuck are you laughing at?"

The man started to choke and then he spit something out. You let him go.

"Hail Hydra." He muttered, and you had exactly one second to realize that the small device he spit out was the tip of one of the special grenades that Hydra agents have started carrying since last year. Hugging him quickly, you threw yourself against the window in front of you, and then he exploded at you as you fell through the air to the street.

When you hit the ground, you grunted in pain.

Steve is calling you on the communicator, but the explosion damaged the equipment and the noise is very disturbing, so you ripped the item out of your ear and threw it to the ground.

As your body recovered, you stayed on the ground, trying to ignore the urge to burn the Hydra to the ground for hurting your friends.

//-//

Avengers Compound, New York, Present.

Wanda was not in her room.

You let out a tired sigh as you fiddled with your cell phone, but there was no message from her about having some other commitment that would justify her not being at the compound at the time she usually was watching her favorite shows. 

After you showered and put on clothes that didn't have as many battle marks, you went to visit your girlfriend, but she wasn't there.

"Friday, where's Wanda?" You asked loudly in the hallway.

"Miss Maximoff is in the northern outer area, along with Mr. Vision." Announces the AI next and you frown. 

Walking towards the location that Friday indicted, you crossed your arms when you saw through the glass of the compound, your girlfriend and her teammate laughing together.

They didn't see you, seeming distracted by their conversation.

"Wow, you look scary when you're jealous." Commented a voice from beside you suddenly, and you blinked in surprise as you noticed young Peter Parker approaching. 

"Missed the school bus, kid?" you tease and Peter rolls his eyes, blushing slightly.

"I'm not trying to annoy you." He says stopping beside you, and looking in the same direction as you.

"I wouldn't recommend that either." You retort, feeling an irritation settle in the pit of your stomach as you watch Vision make Wanda laugh again. What the hell was so funny.

"I don't think you have anything to worry about you know?" Peter remarked after a moment. "I don't think Wanda sees Vision that way, they're just friends."

"I'm not jealous." You lied angrily, clearly jealous. Peter didn't want to contradict you however.

"Of course not." He said slightly startled. "I just... Wanda... She... You and her are a nice couple. Even if Vision has the stone, it's not something to worry about and..."

"Shut up, kid." You grumble angrily as you turn around, deciding to calm your nerves before you lose your mind and send Vision to the moon with one punch.

//-//

Having Pietro Maximoff as a brother in law was a pain in the ass most of the time.

You liked him in general, the problem was when he teased you, because he seemed to know exactly what to say to piss you off.

When you got back to the common room, he was on the couch, playing some stupid video game, and you sat down next to him and turned on the television.

It took him five minutes before he started to annoy you.

"My sister is getting along pretty well with Vision lately, isn't she?" He comments with a smile without taking his eyes off his cell phone. You squeeze the television control harder than necessary.

"Bite me."

Pietro laughs at your aggressiveness. Wanda and Vision enter the kitchen the next moment, their laughter slowly dying down. You don't take your eyes off the TV.

"Honey, I didn't know you were back already." Wanda says as soon as she sees you on the couch, smiling as she approaches you. She kisses your cheek, and frowns at your lack of reaction. You force a smile. "What's up?"

"Relax, little sister, she's kind of green today." Mocks Pietro, and you cast him an annoyed look, before looking back at Wanda.

"I'm just tired, babe." You say, stealing a quick kiss from her. Wanda seems to believe you and then walks away, heading toward the counter.

It takes three minutes for Vision to make a stupid comment and Wanda to laugh again, and you sigh in irritation.

"Wow, that's sad." Pietro teases again in a tone low enough for only you to hear. "Maybe you should watch your girl."

"I'll stick this remote in a place you won't like." You retort in the same tone and Pietro lets out a short laugh, turning his attention back to his cell phone.

You risk a backward glance next, and then the remote control breaks off in your hand. Vision is brushing a strand of hair out of Wanda's face, and she looks surprised and slightly embarrassed by the touch. Pietro laughs at your lack of control, but you stand up next, throwing the rest of the object to the ground and attracting the attention of the other two.

You glare angrily at Wanda before leaving.

//-//

You need to punch something.

So you go back to the training room, and put on the first pair of boxing gloves you can find.

Climbing into the ring quickly, you start punching the punching bag that Steve left over from the last training session.

It takes ten minutes for Wanda to find you.

"Y/N, what was that about?" she asks slightly annoyed as you approach. You are trying to maintain control so you don't rip the punching bag off the metal stand.

"Why don't you go laugh with your new best friend and leave me alone?" You retorted and Wanda frowned in confusion, then let out a dry laugh.

"Are you jealous?"

Your next punch rocks the iron support of the ceiling. 

"No, Wanda." You retort as you stop punching, and start pulling off your gloves. Wanda crosses her arms and has a little smile on her face, which irritates you even more. " I don't feel jealous."

"Oh, yeah?" She responds with irony, and you are throwing the gloves on the floor, and approaching her. She takes a few steps back, impressed by your posture.

"Tell me dear, do I have reason to be?" You ask as you approach. "Everyone wants to remind me that that damn stone makes the toaster think that you two have some kind of connection and that I should be careful." You continue and then Wanda reaches for a wall, and you rest one of your hands beside her head, pinning her against your body. "But I know better. I have nothing to worry about."

"Y/N..." Wanda starts half breathlessly, trying to keep the look in your eyes, and failing.

"Am I wrong, baby girl?" You ask raising your free hand to her cheek, stroking her skin with your finger. "Is there anyone who makes you feel the way I do?"

Wanda sighs, denying with her head next. You give a smug little smile, placing your hand on her chin, and running your finger over her lower lip.

"Then why are you laughing so hard at that piece of tin, dear?" You questioned bringing your face closer to her neck, Wanda closed her eyes as you inhaled her perfume. "Did you want to make me angry? Did you want to be punished?"

Wanda gasps low, denying with her head. You begin to deposit wet kisses against her collarbone and move your hand down her body from her chin.

"God, Wanda, you've been so needy." You comment kissing a sensitive spot on her neck and making her sigh. "Needy enough to get wet with the toaster."

Your teasing makes Wanda grunt in irritation, and you let out a short laugh feeling her tighten the fabric of your shirt.

"What's the matter, baby? Are you angry with me?" You teased, pulling your face away from her neck. Wanda looked at you with a mixture of irritation and excitement.

"Don't say such things." She says half breathlessly. "Vision is just my friend. I don't... I don't see him like that."

You stare at her for a moment, and then back away completely.

"Ask your friend to help you cum then." You retort before turning away. Wanda lets out an impatient sigh, but she doesn't go after you.

//-//

Steve Rogers is testing your patience.

He set up weekly meetings with the team about social responsibilities and hero morality and whatever other patriotic crap he was following, and this was the first of them.

It had been forty minutes since he had been talking, and you were impressed that Tony Stark was still awake.

"And so we conclude that as the Avengers, it is our responsibility to make a difference." Steve spoke as he turned off the presentation.

"I'm thrilled." You grumbled next and the room looked at you. Steve sighed.

"Do you have anything to add, Y/N?" Steve asked seriously, and you let out a short laugh.

"Oh, of course." You say crossing your arms. "Maybe the rest of the team doesn't know but this whole bullshit is only happening because of me."

"Y/N..."

"No, cap, come on." You interrupt with irony. "Tell the team why you are making everyone learn about American history."

"Now I'm curious." Commented Tony looking at Steve, who just had a tired expression.

"This is not about pointing out mistakes." Steve says and you laugh.

"No, of course not." You retort with irony getting up. "This is about hypocrisy really."

"Kid..."

"Don't even go that way!" You interrupt angrily and then turn to Tony. "You want to know what happened? Great! Let's start with the Stark bomb that dropped on Sokovia!"

Tony blinks in confusion at your outburst, and the team looks at you with surprise and concern, while Steve holds up his hands to try to calm you down.

"Please, I'm not trying to-" 

"No, Captain!" You shout. "You want to talk about moral values, don't you?" You sneer with irritation. "I have a list of shit that happens in this place."

"Stop it, now!" The captain asked angrily, and you looked at him incredulously. "You killed someone!" He charges and the team looks at you in surprise. "That's not how we do things here..."

"We have killed thousands of civilians in New York." You interrupt coldly. "Every building that fell to the ground had a family on every floor. Not to mention the missions that came after." You reminded them and Steve clenched his jaw. 

"That was different."

"They hurt Wanda." 

"Y/N."

You shoved Steve in the shoulders, and he took a step back. Tony and Natasha stood up.

"I'm going to kill every agent that was in that lab." You tell him. "Everyone who hurt her is going to pay."

Your colleagues look in shock at your words, but you just turn away, opening the door angrily.

In the hallway, Wanda caught up with you.

"What was all that about?" She asked worriedly as you leaned against the wall, breathing hard.

"I hate the hypocrisy of this team." You retorted with irritation, but your anger subsided considerably when Wanda placed her hand on your cheek, asking you to look at her.

"Talk to me."

You sighed, touching your foreheads together.

"On the last mission, I...we found the decommissioned base where you got your powers." You count and Wanda blinks in surprise. "I lost control when I looked at the files."

"Honey..."

"Wanda." You interrupt with a weak smile. "Please, you can't agree with them."

"I don't." She adds as she strokes your cheek, "I'm just sorry you had to see it."

You shrug, letting your arms hug your waist.

"You're not angry? Or who knows, disappointed?"

Wanda denies with her head.

"I feel the same way about you." She says. "I can't think about the people who arrested you without wanting to blow up everything around me."

You laugh lightly.

"That's some shit Steve doesn't want to understand." You say next and Wanda sighs.

"I think he understands, honey." Wanda says and you blink in confusion, "It's the same thing with Bucky."

You sigh looking away.

"Shit, you're right." You grumble, and then add with a slight smile. "Maybe he was upset about the explosion."

Wanda frowns in confusion. And then she nudges you slightly when you tell her your little story with the grenade.

"Have you lost your mind?" She asks angrily. "Don't you ever do anything like that again!"

"Hey, I was saving the ass of those two mortals in the room" You complain humorously, but Wanda sighs impatiently.

"My god, this is all just because Steve must have been worried to death that something was going to happen to you!" She says and you frown. 

"What are you talking about?"

"Honey, the captain is just trying to get you to behave." She clarifies. "He doesn't want you to abuse your powers, and put yourself at risk for no reason. Honestly, I don't want to either."

You stand thoughtfully for a few minutes and then sigh.

"Damn, now I'm going to have to apologize."

Wanda makes a noise of agreement with her mouth and moves closer, stealing a quick kiss from you. She smiles when you try to kiss her back, pulling away.

"What?"

"I remembered that I'm mad at you." She says and you look at her with confusion.

"What did I do?"

"That scene earlier in the gym." She says and you sigh impatiently. "It wasn't nice."

"You're being so mean." You retort and Wanda flashes you a small smile before turning away, walking in the opposite direction.

You decide that you should apologize to the rest of the team and return to the conference room.

//-//

Wanda was being a brat.

After you apologized to the team, and Steve made it clear that he was concerned and that he understood your anger, but that there were better ways to deal with what Hydra did to the people you love, the atmosphere eased a lot. And you were hoping to spend some time with your girlfriend, but she was too busy teasing you.

She spent the last few minutes cooking with Vision. The guy who didn't eat food.

You rolled your eyes impatiently as you threw yourself on the couch, a newspaper in your hands.

"This is ridiculous, honey" You mentally warned her as you noticed her gaze on you. Wanda didn't sketch any reaction as she cooked.

"Sorry, weren't you the one who said I was, what was the word, needy?" You heard her sneer in your head. You bit your lips to keep from smiling.

"Clearly you are, dear."

"And whose fault is that?" She retorted and you frowned, attracting the attention of Bucky who was standing next to you. You smiled slightly, telling him that it was just a news report about the new political changes that had taken your attention, and then turned your focus back to the newspaper.

"What are you talking about?" You asked Wanda in your thoughts. 

"You were gone for two weeks." She complained, and you took your eyes off the paper to look into the kitchen. Wanda had her back to you, stirring with a spoon in one of the pots. Vision stood next to her, watching the procedure. You clenched your jaw. "I've been all by myself."

"Are you trying to piss me off, Wanda?" You ask angrily, watching the redhead meters in front of you signal for Vision to come closer to take a look at the pot.

"I'm not doing anything." She thinks sounding harmlessly, and you close the paper tightly as you watch Vision cast her a shy smile.

Bucky looks at you curiously.

"Everything okay?" He asks and you nod as you stand up toward the kitchen.

"Wanda, I want to talk to you." You tell her stopping with your arms crossed in front of the counter. Wanda flashes you a little smile.

"I'm busy right now, honey." She retorts as she returns the spoon to the pot, stirring the mixture.

"We're making Sokovian food." Completed Vision with a smile, but you completely ignored him.

"I'm going to count to three." You warn and Wanda swallows dryly, looking at you.

"I don't..."

"Room now, or I'll make you cum against the kitchen counter."

Wanda's eyes widen, and Vision looks extremely surprised. The redhead ducks her head and walks out of the kitchen, you following her. Bucky mumbles something like "for the love of god, why all that obscenity" as you leave.

//-//

There is a palpable tension in the air during the silent walk to your room.

When Wanda opens the door and walks inside, you sigh as you close the door.

"What was that in the kitchen, dear?" You ask her as you unbutton your shirt, Wanda looks at you next, biting her lower lip in anticipation. "Insinuating that I don't pay enough attention to you. Teasing me with Vision."

"I'm sorry." She mumbles softly and you shake your head slightly, taking off your shirt and standing in just your bra. Wanda blushes and takes a step toward you, but you just hold up your finger.

"I'm going to be in charge tonight, honey." You warn as you take off your shoes. "By the way, you do look a beautiful thing in that skirt. I could barely control myself during the meeting."

Wanda smiles with embarrassment, looking away to the floor. You approach, lifting her chin with your finger slowly.

"Can I undress you?" you ask and she sighs softly, nodding afterwards. You drag your finger from her chin down, around her silhouette. When you get to shoulder height, you drag the left strap to the side, and then repeat the motion on the right. Wanda's blouse loosens on her body, and you watch her chest rise and fall rapidly, her breathing out of rhythm. 

You raise your other hand next, and turn your gaze to Wanda. In a twist of your hands, you tear the fabric in front, and Wanda moans softly.

"Are you anxious, baby?" You ask her as the fabric falls away, and you run a finger down her torso to the hem of her skirt. Wanda swallows dryly. "You must be so wet."

Wanda sighs, closing her eyes momentarily. You begin to remove your skirt next, and let out a low growl when you realize there is nothing underneath as the material falls away.

"Wanda, Wanda, Wanda." You scold her maliciously, looking at her exposed intimacy and feeling your mouth fill with water. "Absolutely sinful."

Wanda sighs, moving slightly forward. You bite your lips, noticing her red cheeks. Her body cries out to be touched.

"That's no way to behave, honey." You tell her, lifting your fingers to push up the straps of your bra. "Exposed during a team meeting. Tsk, what a naughty girl."

Wanda whimpers, and you smile. "Is that what you wanted, babe?" You ask as you unzip her bra. " For me to put my fingers in you under the table? Make you come in my hand while everyone watched?"

"Please." She sighs in a husky voice. "Kiss me."

"Where?" 

"Anywhere."

You give a little smile at your girlfriend's breathless confession, and lower your face to the height of her neck, just as her bra falls to the floor. Depositing wet kisses all the way down, you listen to Wanda sigh with each touch of your lips against her skin.

When you reach her breasts, you raise your right hand to play with the hardened nipple between your fingers while using your mouth on the other breast, and Wanda throws her head back, moaning with her mouth open. Sucking and licking the flesh, you delight in the sounds you get from her.

"Babe, please." She pleads breathlessly. "Touch me."

You smile as you release her hardened nipple, raising your face to the height of Wanda's.

"I'm sorry, baby, but it's not going to be that easy." You warn as you squeeze her breast with a full hand. "You need to be punished for today."

Wanda sighs and then you kiss her intensely, making her stumble back, but your hand on her waist holds her against you.

Your tongue invades her mouth, and Wanda moans against your lips, her hands moving up to your neck. You smile as you lift your hands to hers to put them down.

"You can't touch." You warn between kisses and Wanda sighs, letting your tongue tangle in hers sensually.

You begin to lower your kisses again, and Wanda writhes against you, her fists clenched in an effort to resist the urge to touch you. You lick the length of her neck and one of her hands touches your waist.

"What a disobedient brat." You tease against her skin, and then use your right hand to slap her ass, making Wanda moan loudly. You wish to see the mark, so you hug Wanda around the waist, bringing your bodies together, and look down. The bright red mark. Wanda whimpers against you, her other hand coming up to your belt, and you pull away only to kiss her on the lips hard enough to leave her helpless. 

As she begins to play with the beam of your belt, you slap her ass again, on the other side, and her knees buckle slightly.

"Fuck." She whimpers breathlessly, and you bring your hand to her neck, forcing her to keep her gaze on you.

"Get on the bed." You command and Wanda sighs, and then you release her. She moves to the mattress, ass thrusting toward you as she kneels on the bed, hands on the headboard.

"Will you be a good girl, Wanda?" You ask as you raise your hands to her ass, squeezing the flesh as she gasps.

"Yes." 

"I don't believe you." You taunt, slapping her ass. She leans over, moaning. You spank her again, her body arching as she throws her head back, moaning with her mouth open.

Then you move forward, pulling her hair back as a hand slips between her legs, your fingers teasing her entrance and making her whimper.

"Look how wet you are, baby." You whisper against her ear, Wanda has her eyes closed tightly, her hips moving in search of more friction. "Were you missing me, love?"

"Yes." She gasps pushing her hips back, your fingers slipping inside and drawing sighs from both of you. But you withdrew them next, s Wanda whimpers. "Please, honey, touch me."

"You don't deserve it Wanda." You start against her ear. "But you feel so good, baby. So wet and hot, I can't resist."

You suddenly penetrate her with two fingers, deep and precisely, and Wanda cries out, moaning your name. 

"Fuck, yes." She gasps moving her hips, you slide in and out with ease, feeling Wanda flushed.

"Look at you baby, crumbling in my fingers." You gasp, your hand releasing her hair as you drag it to her breast, squeezing the flesh.

"I...I 'm com..." Wanda begins to whimper and you smile, feeling her body quiver in spasms, the rhythm of her hips disablisting as her walls get tighter and you feel her pulsing in your fingers.

"Cum for me, baby girl." You whisper in her ear, and one stroke later is all it takes for Wanda to arch her back, coming on your fingers with her mouth open as she screams your name.

You withdraw your fingers as she falls to the mattress, turning to you next. Bringing your fingers to your mouth, you taste Wanda as she looks up at you with dilated pupils.

"You taste so good babe." You tell her with a smile, and Wanda raises her hands to your waist, asking you to climb on top of her.

You slowly shake your head, reaching up to remove your pants. Wanda bites her lips as she watches you undress.

"I want to show you something, honey." You tell her after removing your clothes, straightening to sit on her thigh. Wanda sighs as she feels your wet intimacy against her. "Do you like that?" You ask watching her reaction, Wanda raises her torso, bringing your faces closer together as her hands go to your waist. "Do you like how wet I get on top of you?"

"Fuck yes." She gasps against your lips, you begin to move against her thigh, feeling your eyes spin in their orbit with the sensation.

"What about you, Wanda?" You ask slipping your fingers into her again,making her bury her face in your neck. "Look at that baby, you're soaking wet too."

Wanda moans, her hands tightening around your waist as you feel your fingers in her. You increase the speed of your movements against her thigh at the same rate as your fingers move in and out of her, Wanda begins to force her hips to keep up.

"No one makes me feel like this, Wanda." You confess breathlessly, penetrating deep. "I am yours."

Wanda moans and forces herself to confess.

"And I am yours." She retorts groaning, and you feel her walls tightening in your fingers as the feeling at the tip of your stomach tightens.

"Let's cum together baby" You tell her breathlessly, and Wanda shudders nodding. Forcing your hips against her thigh, you gasp, trying to keep the rhythm in your fingers.

A few strokes later and you struggle to keep up, your body shaking in spasms. Wanda tightens her hands on your waist, forcing you down as you move in and out of her. Wanda begins to curse in Sokovian, moaning breathlessly, and you smile, feeling your eyes roll. And then you cum together a moment later.

You collapse against her, as Wanda falls onto the mattress. Depositing lazy kisses against her collarbone, you smile as she sighs, her fingers running up your back as you pull out of her.

"Was that enough attention honey?" You tease a minute later and Wanda laughs softly, biting her lips.

You raise your head to look at her, feeling your heart soar at the image of her lazy gaze, her lips puffy and parted.

"Do you love me?" You ask in a whisper and Wanda sighs.

"I do." She agrees and you raise your hand to her neck, your fingers strolling along her chin.

"Show me."

Wanda nods moving forward to kiss you on the lips.

[cas-rivaille]

Hi! Can I request a obey me hc where the MC is a leader of a very big mafia gang in the human world?

YES !??!?

(ahaha this def isn't the plot of one of my scripts where i run a mafia gang because i thought it would be cool and it's amazing you requested this)

tags: mentions of weapons, mild swearing, protective brothers and datables (i didn't include luke because it's a mafia gang thing and he's precious child and i want abt to put him in harms way)

a/n: i also didn't write the thoughts for dia, barb, simeon, or solomon because i honestly couldn't think of anything i'm sorry

MC as a Mafia leader in the human world

When you came to the Devildom, you were in another world, rendering everything in the human world useless. You spent so much time trying to adjust, that your life in the human world was almost forgotten.

Almost.

It wasn't long before Lord Diavolo announced you would be going on a trip to the human world. Suddenly you remembered everything you would go back to. If only you were aware of the chaos that would unfold. When you got to the human world, in your town you previously lived in, there was maybe a minute of peace before chaos erupted.

Once you stepped out of the alleyway that Diavolo teleported the group of you into, nearly half the people on the street turned and looked at you. Some of them ran, others pulled out their phones and made calls, and about four or five came rushing towards you asking where you'd been.

You recognized the men that had the gall to come up to you, they were some of the more high ranking commanders. However, your second in command was not among them. The brothers protectively stepped around you, not knowing who these people were. Clearly that was the wrong move.

In an instant the street was clear of citizens and there were members of your gang with their weapons drawn or their hands near their weapon. Diavolo stood behind you, glaring at the men in front. Simeon and Solomon were on edge. The atmosphere was tense. Barbatos was the first to speak.

"I'd advise you stand down," He spoke with a hum in his voice to the men in your gang.

"I could say the same to you," Said a voice emerging from the other side of the street. Slowly the person walked forward. It was your second in command.

"Who are you to be acting like this around our commander ? They disappeared four months ago and show up again like nothing ? Forgive us if we're a little curious," Your second spoke in a teasing manor, eyeing everyone carefully.

Lucifer -

- commander ?

- who ? mc a commander ? of what ?

- who are these people and where did they come from ?

- *protection mode activated*

- the only reason he's not in demon form and ready to attack is bc diavolo is here

- looks at all his brothers and makes sure they understand exactly what he means with one look

- this man is next to dia full on ready to fight

"Who are you calling com-"

You interrupt Lucifer.

"Everyone stand down, this is all just a bit misunderstanding," You say as quickly as possible to stop any conflict. Everyone directs their attention towards you.

"Commander who are these people ?" Your second asks.

"They're my friends, there's no need to be hostile. Everyone stand down," You say, looking around at all the people. They immediately lower their weapons, some of them even holster them. Your second on the other hand, known for standing up to you, doesn't lower their weapon.

"All due respect commander, but I won't stand down until I know they aren't a threat," You second looks you dead in the eye. You sigh. You then direct your attention to the boys surrounding you.

"Guys, back off a bit please. I'm fine. They aren't a threat," You say, tired.

The brothers ease up a bit, but you can still see the tension in their muscles. Diavolo, Barbatos, Simeon, and Solomon stood behind you protectively still, but also stepped back.

Lucifer steps forward and makes eye contact with you.

"What's going on MC ?" Lucifer asks.

"Okay so, gang this is Lucifer, Mammon, Levi, Satan, Beel, Asmo, Barbatos, Belphie, Solomon, Simeon, Barbatos, and Diavolo. Boys, this is my gang," You say while pointing to everyone and talking as fast as possible.

Mammon -

- he eased up on his defensive stance, but he never let your hand go

- as to be expected because you're HIS human

- anyways

- gang ??

- what do you mean gang ??

- like a club or should he be running

- very confused boi but just wants to protect you no matter what

Mammon squeezes your hand lightly. You look at him.

"What do you mean gang ?" He asks.

"I- uh.. well you see, it's exactly how it sounds," You respond.

The confusion on Mammon's face only grows.

"I am the leader of a gang. Here in the human world?" You say while shrugging your shoulders.

The boys all look at you like you've grown a second head.

"You run a gang ?" Mammon says after a moment of silence between all of them.

"Is that so surprising ?" Your second asks.

Leviathan -

- surprising ??

- surprising ??????

- the same mc that would stay up until two am playing animal crossing with him ?

- the same mc that bought him plushies of his favorite characters ?

- mc who would cosplay with him

- how could someone who makes sure he takes care of himself and basically babies him but on a friend level, be the commander of a gang ?

- lowkey thinks it's badass because he is the grand admiral of his own army

- gets distracted and starts fangirling over you

"How long have you been the commander of a gang?" Levi excitedly asks.

"Two years, before I went to the devildom that is," You respond, slightly bouncing off Levi's excitement.

"The what?" Your second asks, interrupting.

"The- oh. Wait a minute," You say and turn to Diavolo.

"Am I allowed to tell them ?" You half whisper to Dia.

"If you see fit. This situation is entirely new to me," Dia half whispers back. Barbatos leans in and joins the conversation.

"I sense utter loyalty to you, MC, if you trust them then I advise we should too," Barbatos speaks quietly.

You turn back to your gang.

"Okay so the reason I vanished for four months is because I went to 'hell' as an exchange student. Now I realize that may sound crazy, but these guys are all demons," You say while roughly gesturing to the brothers, Dia, and Barbatos, "He's an angel," You say and point to Simeon, "And he's a human, but immortal, I think. I don't really know Solomon is the textbook definition of an enigma," You say while waving at Solomon in gesture.

Your gang stares at you, bewildered. The person next to your second starts laughing hysterically. Your second glares at him but the laughter doesn't stop.

Levi, knowing exactly how it feels to be laughed at and not believed, starts talking.

"Need proof ?" He asks. In the blink of an eye he's in his demon form.

Your gang steps back, eyes wide, their hands near their weapons.

Satan -

- there's no way satan isn't dragging you back to his room after this to talk about your gang

- thinks it's attractive as hell, MC in a position of power ? that's the stuff

- takes a moment to register why levi is in his demon form, but feels his wrath and changes too

- steps closer to you

- he's still mad you never told him, but he won't take it out on you

- honestly just wants to know the truth

After Satan changes too, the rest of the brothers join in

Except Lucifer, who looks very displeased. Diavolo laughs at Lucifer's discontentment. Satan smirks as well, knowing he made Lucifer angry.

Your second is the first to speak.

"Okay what the fuck," Is the only thing said.

"MC did explain that we're demons, were you listening ?" Satan asks coyly.

"Right then. So it's actually true ?" Your second asks, looking at you.

"Yes, why would I lie ?" You say back.

There is a moment of silence. No one moves or says anything.

"So I take it this means we can't tell anyone ?" Your second asks.

"No, you cant. But I know you're all more than capable of keeping secrets," You laugh a little. The atmosphere lightens up. Your second laughs with you.

Asmo -

- your laugh is so adorable to him

- not the time thoughts

- he also thinks it's attractive you run a gang

- admires how you were able to change the atmosphere and how these people listen to you

- will totally tease you and call you commander

- joins in on lightening the mood

"Right then, how about we all go get a drink and discuss the events of the last four months over dinner ?" Asmo says.

"Is there even a restaurant big enough to hold all of us ?" Satan asks.

"Yeah, we can use the base," You say.

"Of course, it's still the same as you left it commander," Your second joins in.

"Then it's settled, let's go !" Asmo smiles.

Beel -

- definitely not opposed to having food

- is a little hurt you didn't tell him, but ultimately understands

- he wants to hear about your adventures

- wonders if he can spend more time with you to hear about said adventures

- does this mean you can fight ?

- if so can you train with him ?

"Does this mean we get human world food ?" Beel asks, looking at you.

"Yep !!" You respond.

Beel changes out of his demon form with a smile on his face.

"I'll also show you guys our base of operations and give you a tour. I can also show you where I used to live too !!" You say excitedly.

The other brothers change out of their demon forms.

Your second starts to walk and lead the way to the base. Everyone follows.

Belphie -

- to be honest he doesn't care you're a gang leader

- he just wants to sleep and spend time with you

- if those two things coincide then good for him

- he does think it's cool tho

"So, you're gonna tell us everything right ?" Belphie asks.

"Yes. I'll tell you guys about my life here and then I'll tell my gang about my life with you all," You say.

"Good, as long as things get cleared up," Belphie says and yawns.

----

SORRY IT GOT REALLY SHORT AT THE END IM REALLY TIRED BUT THANK YOU FOR THE REQUEST I HOPE YOU LIKE IT !!

- cas :)

[thebloggerbloggerfun]

@jellydeans: so are cas and jimmy novak just up in heaven existing at the same time @katebushstandean: #jimmy moves to heaven timbuku so that dean stops trying to make out with him every time they run into each other at the heaven grocery store

LINK

Thanks for letting me write this, guys!!

AO3  (2.1k)

The thing about Heaven was that it was whatever you wanted it to be, and most of its residents wanted it to be familiar.

Technically, Dean didn’t need to fill his car up on gas anymore, but there was still a gas station just down the street from where his new home was placed. He didn’t need to sleep, but he still had a large king-sized bed he made sure to make use of at least once a day. He didn’t need to eat, but there was a thriving supermarket that catered to whatever he was feeling like eating and always boasted the freshest ingredients for when he wanted to get a little fancy with his cooking.

Like today, for example.

Bobby had said he doubted Dean could make a proper souffle, so obviously Dean had to make the old man eat his words - and a souffle.

Dean stared at all of the different options of eggs, trying to decide if “free-range” vs. “organic” actually meant anything in Heaven, or if it was just meant to give him some sort of familiarity.

He grabbed the “free-range” option and moved on to the dairy.

There was movement out of the corner of his eye in the meat section across the way, and the way his heart stopped in his chest when he turned to look would have killed him if he wasn’t already dead.

It was Cas.

Cas, who Dean had spent every day thinking about since he’d left. Cas, who Dean had been trying to find ever since Bobby told him he was still around. Cas, who Dean still had unfinished business with.

He’d spend hours in bed, staring at the ceiling of his room and rehearsing just what he’d say when he saw him again, but in those scenarios Cas had shown up on his doorstep or in the passenger seat of his car where they could have a moment to just be .

He’d never been buying hamburger meat.

Dean rushed forward, cart forgotten, and skidded to a halt in front of Cas, just as he looked up in surprise.

“I love you -” Dean said in a rush, heart pounding, head reeling, “Of course I love you. You’re - fuck - you’re everything I could ever want and I’m - I’m so damn sorry if I made you feel like you couldn’t have me, too.”

Cas blinked at him, and it was in that moment Dean realized something was wrong.

His expression, his hair, the way he moved, the way he was dressed - all of it was wrong.

None of it was Cas, he’d just been too overwhelmed to see it.

“Oh, uh... hey Dean,” Not-Cas said, and finished putting his selected meat in his basket, “I didn’t didn’t know that you died. Um, if you’re looking for Castiel -“

Dean turned and ran out of the store.

*

What were the fucking chances that in all of Heaven, he and Cas’s old vessel were neighbors?

Dean gunned the gas pedal on his car as he drove endlessly, trying to walk himself through what exactly had happened the day before.

Jimmy Novak was here.

Jimmy Novak who - last Dean checked - hated him.

Dean had just spewed his feelings all over him without even thinking about the possibility that he wasn’t Cas. He’d been wearing a sweater vest for crying out loud - but he was willing to forgive himself for that one because he didn’t really know how Cas would dress if he had the choice.

His hopes had soared so high when he’d seen the familiar figure, only to be dashed the moment Jimmy had opened his mouth. They sounded absolutely nothing alike - and Dean yearned for the deep gravel of Castiel’s greeting.

Dean’s grip on the wheel tightened.

Where was Cas?

Didn’t he know that there was nothing keeping them apart now?

In what could only be an act of fate smiling down on him, Dean zoomed around a corner near the Heavenly library, and instantly had to stomp on the brakes of the Impala as a trenchcoat-clad figure stepped into the previously empty crosswalk.

Old habits die hard - Dean was still going to brake for Heavenly pedestrians, especially ones that looked like Cas.

Cas turned to look at him, eyes wide, and Dean shoved the driver’s side door open in a panic. The trench coat was unmistakable this time.

“Cas! Cas - don’t go okay? I gotta -“

Cas shook his head sharply and let out a breath.

“No - Jesus Christ - it’s still me, you idiot.”

Dean gaped at him as his brain tried to catch up with the conflicting bits of information it was processing.

“...what?” He heard himself saying.

Had he just wanted it to be Cas so bad that he’d ignored all the signs?

Jimmy gestured at himself like it was enough of an explanation.

“Uh. Yeah.”

“But - but you’re wearing his trenchcoat! ” Dean said, waved at it like maybe Jimmy hadn’t realized he was walking around as the mockery of the angel who’d once shared a living space with him.

Jimmy placed an affronted hand on his own chest.

“It was my trenchcoat!”

Frustration boiled inside of him and Dean quickly slid back into the car and slammed the door shut behind him.

He sped off, once again running from what could have been.

*

Dean was sulking under a pile of blankets in his bed when there was a knock at his door.

He ignored it.

After a few moments of silence, the knocking came again, louder and more insistent this time.

Grumbling to himself, Dean threw the blankets off and trudged down the stairs, flinging open the door with a scowl.

A person with nearly combed hair was standing on the doorstep holding a six-pack of beer in one hand and had a sticker on his shirt that said, ‘Hello, my name is Jimmy’.

“Very funny.” Dean said flatly.

“It’s not funny. It’s just in case you try to kiss me or something.” Jimmy held up the six-pack expectantly. “Can I come in?”

Dean didn’t appreciate the ribbing, but he didn’t mind the beer.

And after accosting him twice he might as well let the guy do what he wanted.

“Yeah, whatever.” Dean grumbled and left the door open as he walked back inside and flopped onto his couch. “Why are you here? Don’t you hate me?”

Jimmy hummed as he set the beer down on the coffee table and took a seat opposite Dean.

“I don’t not hate you.” He said with a shrug. “But last time we talked you were trying to convince me to chain myself to a comet again and I can’t say I appreciated it.”

Dean grunted in acknowledgment.

“I’ve been in heaven for a while now. It’s nice here. I take a yoga class with my wife.” Jimmy smiled at him. “I think I’m in a much better mental space now to consider liking you, especially if we’re going to be neighbors.”

Dean winced.

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to like Jimmy, it was just… that was Cas’s face. It wasn’t , but it was. Was he really going to have to be constantly taunted with it?

“Look man - I’m sorry about - you know. That.” Dean waved a hand in the air generally. “But you don’t have to do all this. I’ll stop harassing you.”

“That would be nice,” Jimmy said, opening one of the cans and taking a swig, “So, considering the things you’ve said to me, I take it he finally told you he loved you?”

Dean paused, still raw every time he thought about it.

“You knew?”

Jimmy smirked.

“That angel’s love for you permeated both of our beings so potently I’m amazed I don’t love you.” Jimmy said, like it was the kind of fact you could drop casually. “Though even I will admit, as a happily married heterosexual man, that having a man as handsome as you proclaim your love to me in the middle of a grocery store was very exciting.”

Dean dropped his head into his hands and groaned loudly.

“Don’t beat yourself up over it,” Jimmy said, “That first one was pretty good. I’m sure he’s going to love it.”

“He’s never gonna hear it.” Dean muttered.

“Sure he will. You’ve already practiced it twice.”

“I can’t find him!” Dean said, and looked back up, “He’s here somewhere, and I can’t find him. It’s killing me.”

Jimmy held out a beer can.

“Good thing you’re already dead.”

Begrudgingly, Dean accepted the beer and opened it.

“I just. . . I just wanna see him again.” Dean took a long drink. “I want to talk to him. Tell him everything. Share everything. If he wants that.”

Dean let out a long breath, expecting Jimmy to interject with a quip.

He looked over at him when nothing happened, and Jimmy was smiling at him in a way that Dean could only describe as ‘fond’.

“What?” Dean said, indignantly.

“Nothing.” Jimmy said innocently. “You’re just not what I expected.”

Dean looked away.

“Anyway, you asked why I’m here,” Jimmy took another drink, “I’ve seen Castiel.”

“What?” Dean jumped to his feet, beer can dropped to the floor and forgotten about. “Why didn’t you lead with that?”

“I’m an enigma,” Jimmy shrugged a shoulder and leaned back against the plush chair, “Anyway, I wanted to let you know as someone who has literally been in Castiel’s head - I'm pretty sure I know the reason he’s not showing himself to you.”

“Well, fucking spill.”

Jimmy paused.

“Why do you love him?”

Of all the things Dean had been expecting Jimmy to say - this wasn’t it.

Dean sat back down.

“Why?” He asked, a little breathless. “Why does it matter?”

Jimmy shrugged again.

“I guess -” Dean said, trying to unspool his emotions from the knot they’d made in his heart, “He’s - he’s Cas. He cares . . . so much about everyone and - and he’s selfless and kind and he fucking saved me in more ways than just one. He’s always been there for me and Sam and he’s just… he’s just. He’s just good . I’ll never deserve him, but I want to try.”

Dean sucked in a deep breath.

“He pulls me away from the edge, man. I just love him.”

Jimmy nodded once, set down his beer can, and in a bizarre turn of events, began yelling at Dean’s ceiling.

“Did you hear that, Castiel? Not one goddamn thing about how you look! Nothing about me or my vessel!”

Dean stared, dumbfounded.

“Wh-”

“He doesn’t care what you look like! Can you please just come talk to him so I can stop playing marriage counselor for you two?”

Care how he - what?  

What was happening?

Before Dean could fully compile all of the new information, there was a hesitant knock at the front door.

Dean whipped his head towards Jimmy, who was smiling in satisfaction.

Nearly tripping over himself, Dean rushed to the door faster than he’d rushed towards anything in his life, and swung it open.

In front of him was the wavelength of celestial intent that Dean had always known existed inside of the vessel of Jimmy Novak - the glint of angelic creation he’d caught glimpses of in the glow of his eyes and in his healing touch. The being was massive and stretched high into the sky with what was (maybe three? four??) pairs of wings scraping the clouds even further above everything. He was flaming rings and rotating divine faces that Dean could barely comprehend - he was raw power and all-knowing eyes.

On the front of his form was a sticker that read, ‘Hello, my name is Castiel’.  

“. . . Hello Dean.” The voice rumbled through the air like thunder.

“Cas?” Dean said, his voice barely above a whisper.

“I - yes. I’m sorry. I lost my vessel to the Empty - this was the only way -”

“I love you, too.”

The rotating faces on the form towering above him froze in place.

“I do! I love you, Cas. Okay? You didn’t let me say it back before - and if I’ve ever made you feel like I couldn’t love you back, I’m so fucking sorry. You deserve better.”

“. . . you love me?”

Dean nodded, his heart clenching at the disbelief he could hear in Cas’s voice.

“ Even as this?”

“You’ve always been this.” Dean swallowed. “I fell in love with the angel, not the vessel.”

“Dean. . .”

Dean smiled up at him in understanding.

“Just a shame that we’ll have to get a bigger house.”

“Oh I can -”

And as Dean looked on, Castiel began to shrink. The form didn’t change - he was still as striking as he’d been the first time with his wings and halos and faces still firmly in place - but he was now maybe one foot taller than Dean instead of one hundred.

“- make myself more manageable.”

Dean grinned and took a step forward, giddy and thrilled that this was finally, actually happening

He reached up, resting a hand on one of the divine faces.

“Bite-sized.” He murmured fondly.

Jimmy’s voice cut through the moment from somewhere behind them.

“Just so you two know - I. Am. Moving!”

[ceciliablossoms]

I just read the whiskey angst and i cried a bit 😭 can i request Fruit Punch + Absinthe after that the reader feel stressed and go for a walk outside but are attacked by Abiss Mages and seriously injured and Diluc / Childe / Kaeya is surprised when the reader return with a pathetic form but the reader don't want them to touch them pls 😭😭😭 REVERSE UNO

I genuinely wasn't expecting people to like that one enough to request a sequel. I originally had no intention of making a sequel but with so many people asking how can I not?

Haha.. I couldn't sleep again...

The Whiskey fic

TW: Mentions of Injury, Swearing, Self Hatred

Absinthe: “Get out of my sight! I don’t fucking want you here!”

Fruit Punch: “Why are you bleeding!? What the hell happened?!”

-------

Diluc

It had been several days since he had last seen them and honestly speaking the man was a mess. What he said hadn't fully sunk in until he finished his work and upon realising that he had made a severe error, a pit formed in his stomach.

He was extremely disgusted with himself. Nobody should ever talk to their significant other in such a way under any circumstances. Not only that but he had also called them a hindrance when they had only been trying to help him. Pathetic.

He ended up seeking them out, arriving at their small house in Mondstadt. He had approached their door as they were exiting their home. They visibly bristled.

As the days passed they wallowed less, sadness and dejection becoming anger. How DARE he have the AUDACITY to talk to them like that? To treat them as though they were holding him back?

“Get out of my sight! I don't fucking want you here!”

He didn't even flinch out their outburst. He deserved it, "I have... come to apologise for my actions. I-"

"Didn't mean it? Save your words. I don't wish to hear it." They pushed past him. "I'm going for a walk. Don't follow me."

He watched as they exited the gates, steam practically pouring from their ears. As much as he wished to apologise, craved to say that he was sorry, he was sure that they wouldn't have it. But, he sat on the stairs to their house regardless and waited for their return. Whether they would accept it or not he was still going to try to make amends.

He didn't know how long he sat there waiting but they still had yet to return. The worry had long set in, hitting its peak when there was a small commotion at the gate. They pushed past Swan, who was following after them in a panic.

They walked with a limp, blood seeping through the hand that clenched their shoulder tightly. A cut adorned their face from temple to jaw. It too was bleeding heavily.

Diluc approached them with haste, alerted by their state, "Why are you bleeding?! What the hell happened!?"

They pushed past him too as he reached out to them, "Don't.... touch me..."

Diluc glared at Swan as a way to tell him to go back to his post. He jumped but obliged nonetheless as Diluc began to follow after them. Grabbing their non-injured shoulder in his gloved hand, he tugged them gently to stop them from moving.

His tone was stern, "You do not have to speak with me nor do you have to accept my apology. But you will get those injuries tended to even if I have to drag you to the church myself."

They pulled themselves from his grip, out of breath and tired, "Why is it that you care? I'm but a hindrance remember. Even as we speak I am obstructing you."

"If those were my feelings I wouldn't be here. I don't expect forgiveness but I would still like to let you know that what I said doesn't define how I feel for you. That is of little importance right now. Your injuries need to be dealt with"

They said nothing, looking off to the side. Sluggishly they move towards their home again, quietly ushering for him to follow. "I have plenty of medical supplies of my own." They paused, "When my injuries heal, I expect an apology in full. And as for my trust... You'll have to work for it."

He was relieved. Their words suggested that there was a still a chance for him.

-

Tartaglia

It took him a while to calm down. After all, he did tend to brood on things until they festered. At first, he only got angrier. Angry that the cheater got away with it. Angry that they sided with the cheater. Angry that they helped the cheater.

He thought about it more though, and the more he rationalised the more he calmed down. They didn't really side with him, did they? They only helped him because he would have bled out had they not. As much as he wanted to beat the man's ass all over again, he let it slide. Killing him would be a waste anyway. Instead he would let the man's near death experience serve as a reminder.

When he was fully calm, he sought them out, their words echoing in the back of his head. 'Talk to me when you're fucking sane', they had said. Had his actions truly made them feel that way? Or was it in anger just as his words had been?

He checked Bubu Pharmacy first, seeing neither them nor the cheater. He assumed it was because the cheater was in the back getting treatment and that they had gone on their merry way. The search continued.

His hunt continued all across the harbour and he was unable to tell if they were going out of their way to avoid him or if he was looking in all the wrong places. Finally, he resorted to asking around, getting a couple tidbits of information from some Milileth.

He was told that they were seen exiting the harbour and that seemed extremely miffed. So retracing their steps, he left the harbour as well, following along the path that led toward Guili Plains.

He continued to follow the path until Wangshu Inn appeared in the distance and quietly pondered why they came out this far. Something seemed off though. Halting his movements, he scanned the area, sapphire eyes landing on a familiar silhouette sitting at the base of an apple tree.

He was unaware of how long they'd been sitting there when he approached, but there they were an apple in hand. They finished mid chewing and spoke after they swallowed the fruit in their mouth.

"Get out of my sight. I don't fucking want you here." Despite their icy tone, he knew that they weren't angry anymore. They did, however, want to be left alone though he did not oblige.

His eyes travelled to the blood that coloured the grass beneath them. There was a teasing edge to his voice as he tried to lighten the mood, "Why are you bleeding? What happened, hm? Get in a fight without me?"

Finding each other bloody was nothing new to either of them and playing it up was a game of sorts. An inside joke if you will. Most of the time he acted like a worried spouse for them and vice versa, but at this moment it was genuine worry. They scoffed.

"Yes, but unlike you, I don't try to kill men on the street."

He held up his hands in defeat before sitting down across from them, "Not gonna let me live it down, are you?"

They rolled their eyes, leaning their head against the tree trunk, "It happened a few hours ago. But you get a free pass because I don't have the energy to debate right now."

He moved to check their injury and they slapped his hands away with a quiet 'Don't touch me'. Yet he continued to eye it warily, staring at their face as if to ask permission. His gaze was gentle, genuine worry spread across his face. They caved after several minutes, looking away.

Pulling their shirt up to reveal the injury on their hip, it appeared as though they tried to cauterize it. With a sigh, he stood and held his hand out to help then up. After a moment of hesitation, they accepted his hand and immediately after they stood he crouched in front of them and signalled for them to get on his back. They obliged and he carried them back to the city.

"Don't think that this means I forgive you for what you said to me."

For once he didn't feel like teasing, knowing that it wouldn't help mend the situation, "I know. I do wish to apologise though. My words were... unnecessary. I took my anger out on you."

"Damn right." They patted his head, "Though if you're a good boy I might forgive you faster."

He sighed, fully aware that they were going to use him as an errand boy for the next few days.

-

Kaeya

He continued after their encounter as though nothing had happened at all. The silence that filled his office after they left was deafening but he took the time to finish his work. All of the paperwork that had piled up and all the tedious remedial tasks had been finished, the rest of his duties taken care of as well.

Days passed before he finally decided to confront them, and over that period his the guilt over his cruelty toward them festered. He was fully aware that they were trying to help, trying to make his workload lighter, yet he still snapped at them.

If he hadn't taken out his frustration on them then the two would be together right now. If he had just let them help will all of it then we would have gotten done much faster and gotten to relax much sooner. The stack they did do, however, was the biggest one from the piles which did shorten the time he was working. If only he hadn't scared them away.

He began his search for them at their home, finding it empty. Thinking for a moment, he began to check the usual places they went when they were upset. As he headed to Windrise it turned out that he didn't have to look far, for they were limping over the bridge that led into the city.

They were bleeding heavily from their chest, hand clutching the wound with unspoken panic. He rushed toward them, reaching out to support their body weight.

His voice was demanding, "Why are you bleeding?! What the hell happened?"

"It was just an Abyss Mage. Get out of my sight! I don't fucking want you here."

He knew he deserved their scalding words but that didn't stop him from trying. He held his tongue to stop a smart ass comment. Usually, he wouldn't hold back but he knew this wasn't the time.

"You may not want me here, but if you don't get some help you'll bleed out before you can make it to the cathedral." He spoke calmly despite his internal conflict, and they knew that he had a point.

Begrudgingly they leaned against him as he escorted them through town. Moving hurt as it aggravated their injury but it was necessary. As soon as they got inside the cathedral he called for Barbara who appeared around the corner. Her face contorted in horror as she escorted them to the infirmary.

Kaeya sat amongst the pews and waited, having an internal debate with himself. Would they forgive him? Would they even hear him out?

Hours passed before Barbara remerged with news of their condition. He could see them but they could not leave for a while. With caution, he entered, knocking on the door frame to get their attention.

They turned their head in his direction but scowled when they realised that it was him. "Do you need something?"

He hummed, "No but you do." Sitting on the edge of the bed, he took their hands in his, "I wanted to apologise. Both for what I said to you and for taking your kindness for granted."

They stared him down but say nothing but sincerity in his eyes, "I'm listening."

He was slightly caught off guard by their response, nevertheless though it made him happy. They fact that they were willing to listen showed that there was a possibility for forgiveness.

[teeztheflag]

─────────────────────

Wolf!Ateez Reaction to when they accidentally hurt their mate

warnings: strong language, fighting, injuries, mentions of blood, mentions of bullying

a/n: ok ok I am really sorry I had to change the request a little bit so it doesn’t become repeating <3

general taglist: @latte-fairytaekwoon @little-precious-baby @yunhobabygurl @multidreams-and-desires

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k i m  h o n g  j o o n g

Usually the alpha was the most caring person with you. Bringing you flowers and spending as much time with you as possible. When the fights between several packs reached his land he knew dangerous times were coming.

Instead of talking to you and taking you to the meetings he decided it would be safer for you to stay in your house guarded when the attacks began.

Little did he know that you were tired of not being included and as the luna of the pack it was time to use your own power to help. Hong Joong was in a full fighting and killing mode when you were circled by five other werewolves who tried to kill you without mercy.

Hong Joong‘s senses were blended when he launched at the intruders and absentmindedly also accidentally bit your leg earning him a painful cry from your wolf.

Immediately he felt like his heart shuttered to pieces not knowing you would be out here in the battlefield. You limp away from your mate and run back to your mansion. Hong Joong changes back into his human and sags to the ground.

He still cannot fully control himself. That’s why he didn’t want you to help. He cries out and lays down on the grass not knowing if he could get under your eyes again.

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p a r k  s e o n g  h w a

Running away from a horde of big - way too big - wolves wasn’t what you planned for your camping trip. It was easy the third time you stumbled over your own feet hearing the low growls behind you. Your blood seems to freeze when you emerge a wide meadow where the only source of light is given by the full moon.

Tears escape your eyes when another whimper leaves you - they circled you. Was this a normal behavior for wolves? What should you do in a situation like this?

You’re only in a light see-through gown because of the hot temperatures these days. It feels like the wolves are strategizing at how they share gazes and let out noises that could be mistaken as chuckling.

Suddenly one of them jumps on you pinning you down to the ground. The animal is flashing it’s dangerous canines at your shaking form. You cannot help yourself to frantically scream and try to push it off you.

It seems to lower itself only more and out of instinct you bare your neck fearing this would be the end for you. The wolf sniffles and licks the spot under your ear. A tear runs down you cheek when you can feel a sharp pain where he draws a little bit of blood.

Suddenly it is pushed off you with force and a much stronger growl leaves a completely black wolf that’s is standing in front of you. You follow the scene in front of you with interested eyes when the other wolves seem to bow down in submission and quickly vanish out of the scene.

Great. The big bad wolf wants you for himself.

It really confuses you when the wolf slowly turns around eying you for a while. You try to get away from it when it nears your form and leans down to lick away the blood that is running down your neck. Again a sound of pain leaves your form to which the wolf backs away in an instant.

A huff can be heard and with conflicted eyes it turns around to escape the scene.

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j e o n g  y u n  h o

„Why are you running away from me?“ No answer.

„Do you like being chased?“ You still don’t answer.

„Okay, (y/n). We know it since three days so why are you not recognizing our bond?“

A tear escapes you which you’re quick to wipe away with the back of your shaking hand. You stop abruptly staring into the depths of the forest. Your gaze turns to the ground when you can sense Yun Ho moving to stand in front of you.

„My little mate. Why aren’t you talking to me? Did I do something wrong?“

„Wrong?“ You look up your hands turning into fists out of anger. Your chest rises with your breaths and you can feel your body heating up.

Yun Ho‘s playful smile soon vanishes and he starts to look concerned. „My love, why are you so sad?“

Of course your souls are already starting to form a connection and he feels your emotions.

„You’re asking if you did something wrong? How about hanging out with all the people that have nothing but bad comments about me left? Laughing at me? Hurting me whenever they can?“

Yun Ho starts to realize what you’re talking about.

„You’ve hurt me, so much already. That is not easy to accept.“

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k a n g  y e o  s a n g

You can feel his eyes burning on your back since half an hour. The beta next to you shamelessly flirts around although he knows your mate is sitting back with his friends.

Yeo Sang was one of the more roguish wolves in your pack always tending to not listen to any orders or picking a fight. Finding out about your bond was actually really shocking to you. You’re probably one of the nicest girls in the pack - according to folks. Always dressed in some pretty dress or blouse and never a too low neckline.

Your connection was still fresh and so far you managed to have the minimum contact with the trouble maker. Just to the point of tonight where the younger people of your pack met up for a campfire and some drinks.

„Wanna take a swim?“ You blush at his words but take his hand anyway letting him guide you through the trees. Standing in front of the lake and seeing that the beta ist already getting rid of his clothes makes you feel bad. He’s smirking at you.

„I don’t know if this is ok...“ Suddenly the beta gets a blow into the face by one of Yeo Sang‘s friends and two of them start to secure the beta in his holds. You’re overwhelmed with the situation immediately and Yeo Sang‘s eyes are dangerously yellow. He gets a painful hold on your wrist screaming at you but you’re not in the position to answer him.

„Y - you’re hurting me.“ Yeo Sang‘s mouth twitches at your words and with a hiss he let’s go of your arm ordering his friends to take you to his home.

The beta spits out blood laughing at the remaining guys and Yeo Sang.

„Great. Now she fears you even more.“ Yeo Sang punches him again knowing he’s right. He lets out a frustrated sigh condemning his short temper.

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c h o i  s a n

It was San‘s highest priority to keep the daughter of their alpha safe. Naturally he was always by your side following you around sometimes to your dismay.

This night you were able to shake the boy off and visit a club with your friends in the town nearby. Mostly humans could be seen here and you finally were able to let loose.

Shaking your body from left to the right you can feel a pair of arms sneaking around your waist to move you to the rhythm with him. Your head falls back landing on the shoulder of your dance partner a permanent smirk on his face.

It all happens to fast when you can feel someone ripping you out of the grip of the stranger. You fall down to the ground hurting your knee in the process. Hissing out you can see your friends immediately rushing to your side while you give the intruder a deadly glare.

San doesn’t stop to give the beautiful man punches when you’re quick to stand up and pry him off the man. San‘s eyes turn into a dangerous color when he eyes you an you know you better get out off here before he looses himself fully.

Outside he has a strong grip on your arm and ushers you into his car. The night flys by while a soft tune is humming. You’re so pissed at him that you decide to better not say anything. Suddenly he speaks up: „You’re letting vampires touch you now? Yeah? The daughter of the alpha is getting it on with vampires!“

„I - I didn’t know he was a - “

„Of course you didn’t! You are so young and literally know nothing!“

After a while of silence you turn to him a sigh escaping you. „I am sorry, San. Thank you for rescuing me...“

His gaze is fixed on the street and he can feel his heart and soul pulling on a bond that is still not touchable for you.

„It is my job to look after you. I failed...“

„No! You didn’t! I promise I won’t ever run away from you again!“ Silence follows but with a last glance San frowns deeply.

„Your knee... this will be a problem when we’re back.“

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s o n g  m i n  g i

„Yes, Min Gi! Just a little bit - closer!“ The wolf under you grunts while balancing you on his shoulders.

Your fingers are close to the fruit that is considered very rare in the realm. Your fingers are close to touching the fruit when suddenly your self made latter shakes and both of you fall down with a low thud.

„Ouch! Min Gi!“ The wolf‘s head hurts and his vision blurrs but hearing your crying he quickly stands up on his paws and howls out.

His tail is wiggling excited while he licks your face and tries to comfort you.

„I - I think my wrist is twisted.“ Tears are running down your cheeks while Min Gi suddenly changes back into his human form a frown on his face.

„Oh my god, I am so sorry!“ He frantically turns from left to right gripping his hair out of frustration. „What should I do what should I do!“

„Min Gi!“ You say through gritted teeth trying to hold in the pain. „Calm down and take me back to the pack!“

Min Gi wears a blank face hurt because he hurt you.

„Min Gi!“

He shakes his head to get a clear mind and sends you a firm nod. „Right. Back to the pack!“

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j u n g  w o o  y o u n g

You and Woo Young often played around in your wolf form chasing each other in the forest. Of course your animal instinct pushed you to little fights from time to time doesn’t matter if it is your mate.

Usually the fights always ended in the two of you changing back into your human body and starting a heated session.

This time unfortunately Woo Young pushed you a little bit to hard against the tree earning him a painful howl out of you. First you can hear him jumping around snickering for winning the battle but when you’re still lying down not moving much he slowly emerges your side tilting his head confused.

„(y/n)?“ He nudges your side with his snout trying to get a response from you but you keep breathing hard letting out little whimpers.

„(y/n)?! Are you hurt?“ Immediately his playful demeanor is gone and he changes back into his human form to search your body for any injuries.

„Oh shit! Change back! Come on!“ He’s totally devastated by now trying to caress you and encourage you with slow motions. You’re a crying mess when you’re back in your naked form.

„Woo Young... my b-back...“ He’s quick to pick you up bridal style and carry you past the trees in a lightning speed.

„Hold on a little bit longer, sweetheart.“ His firm voice and determined gaze really does it‘s wonders and you try to hang on to it until you reach the hospital.

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c h o i  j o n g  h o

Jong Ho could only snicker how you always managed to get out of his way. The campus was big and you really thought the handsome male that just happened to cross your way out of pure coincidence. Of course Jong Ho made sure to follow your every step because he just couldn’t help himself.

Finally finding his mate filled his body with adrenaline and having you not in the eye sight drove him crazy. The only problem that stopped him from immediately getting to you: you’re human. Probably not knowing about the world of magic and their creatures.

It was just the problem that you happened to have a boyfriend and one day it was too late for self control when he had the boy pinned to the wall in one of the cafeterias of the campus.

„Stay away from her!“ Your boyfriend shuddered at the low growl that came from the boy in front of him not knowing the slightest what he did wrong when he just gave a you peck on the cheek.

You screamed and kicked at him not knowing what happened a few seconds ago. When he suddenly turns around leaving you dumbfounded and all the others in the location you decide you wouldn’t let him go this easily.

You follow him and don’t even recognize that he’s going into the woods. He stops in his tracks when you don’t stop talking and you can see him breathing hard. Jong Ho tries to control his feelings but the frustration is taking over and when you try to turn him around by his shoulder he accidentally pushes you.

Your head collides with a stone and blood can be seen leaving the desperate wolf speechless. He runs to your side trying to wake you up but he’s getting no reaction out of your form. With tears pricking his eyes he’s quick to carry you to his pack to help you knowing it is now to late for you to turn back.

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↺ back to navi

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[munsnz]

TRICKS OF LIFE — STEVE HARRINGTON

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐢𝐢. — 𝐀𝐫𝐞 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠?

Tags: @itsnottilly

Summary : after the troubling interrogation, Y/N sets back off, possibly created contact with an ex-friend, a bully, a douche bag. Learning the conflict and grudges, tension is brought to them.

Navigation — Mixtape

“Y/N, Y/N. Y/N!” A shout flickered the girl back to the futile, cold office, accompanied by the principal, chief, and the officer, who seemed slightly worried about the girl who seemed to have dozed off into the abundance of memories and thoughts overflowing her own emotions, a sense of guilt welling up on her, “Are you listening?”

Her eyes blinked, watching the concerned adults, who were looking back at her. She shakes her head, her brittle hair moving from side to side, trying her best to hold back tears, not wanting to know of the possibilities of Will not being safe. Remembering a bit of the event that carried on last night, she spoke forward, “I-I only remember leaving early, since I had to be home by six. Will was with the party, so I don’t know much from there.”

Callahan cleared his throat, taking the seat next to her, “Do you know what street he usually takes to go home?”

”Mirkwood,” Y/N fixes her jacket, watching her dad rolls his eyes, remembering the fuss the party made while they interrogated them about a few hours ago. She looks around, the diplomas displayed on the back, tears slightly welled up in her E/C eyes, feeling a pit in her stomach, “I-I’m sorry. Is there any way I could help?”

She snapped.

Heavy streams of tears dropped onto her pale cheeks, now one of her responsibilities of whom she had promised to take care of was gone. If she should’ve stayed a little longer, just an hour more, she could’ve prevented it. It’s all her fault, all her fault. No wonder she was a failure, maybe those dorks from years ago were right. It was all her fault her mom ever divorced Hopper. It’s everything, all her fault-

“Y/N,” A large hand rubbed her back up and down, making her try to feel better, the girl that had her hands buried into her face, looked up to see her dad, sitting beside her, “You just have to keep a brave face, and no investigating okay?”

Her heavy eyes drift towards the bearded man, watching her sternly beside her, she frantically nods. Later then, she provided a bit more information about Will and his family, now that she’s been with them for five years now. Ever since that broad decision was made, it would become one of the most treasured moments in her life, the strong bond brought them together.

Excused from the staff, she strolled back to the hallway, barging through her cluttered backpack to try to find a fresh pack of cigarettes, but none were to be found. She sighed loudly, to swing her backpack to its default position and pacing along the hallway. The realization kept hitting her, her eyes burned, while she quivered, biting her lip. That same feeling inside the principal’s office, the guilt. What was there to be guilty about anyways?

“Oh, won’t you look who it is!” A cocky tone appeared from afar, Y/N gave no shit to turn to the voice but instead continue watching the shiny floor, reflecting the lights above, “I guess Hopper is weeping for her mommy. Oh right, she doesn’t have one.”

Furious at the remark, her eyes darted across to find a brunette, with ‘perfect’ hair, leaning against the metal lockers. Steve fucking Harrington. This boy had it all against the girl, ever since those harsh words being repeated over and over, like a broken cassette, threw her into the lowest state. Y/N’s expressions turned bitter, her nose wrinkled, and pursed her lips, “Stop acting like you’re ten, Steve.”

”I see you’ve been listening,” He raises his eyebrows, snarlingly commenting, shifting his hands to his pockets in his khaki jeans.

“So?” Y/N spoke back, slowing her pace down to be able to talk to him although feeling like the need to ignore back again. Why was she going to bother her time with him?

Oh right.

Steve, her old friend. Accidental friends after he was helping his mom bringing in the groceries on a cool December day, back in her elementary school years. After the kind offering Y/N gave during a small ride around town, it evolved to an odd friendship, one to which Y/N had been too attached. Steve might have found it odd that a girl, a girl, like Y/N Hopper would be around him so much. Clingy, was the word he gave her, was it offensive?

Maybe.

But due to stereotypical construct, you would’ve guessed everyone calling them annoying names, couple names, like two romantics although they were only like, twelve. From “When are you going to marry her?” and the “Where’s your girlfriend?” Honestly, no one else was surprised by Y/N’s small reoccurring crush on him. Stuck like glue, Steve didn’t like this bubbly, excited Y/N anymore, she was pushy. Sick of the repetitive comments to him and meeting new friends, who were dickheads in the girl’s eyes, he wanted to push her away, she was annoying, bratty, and clingy. He listened to those kids, these kids that Steve considered ‘friends’ were total assholes, persuading him to become sort of like them. Only the beginning of the 6th grade. They were stupid, naive, reckless, are what other parents claimed to be, couldn’t they move on.

To this day, she still reckons why she ever told Steve, why was she so dependent on someone with who she’d only been friends for months? Why Steve? Why out of all the friends she supposedly had, why him? It seemed like an utter dependency she had for him, she even knows she must’ve scared him off for being well..... her. Y/N was young, it was one mistake to tell a secret to someone you somewhat knew would tell everyone, right?

”Can I tell you a secret Steve?” Y/N crossed her legs in front of him, playing with her fingers nervously. Awaiting for a bit of truth to be let out. As everyone has supposedly known, Y/N had a supposed mother and sister who were alive, and together. Everyone believed that the Hopper’s were the happy family, her sister was alive along with her mom that was still with them. Truth was, Sarah was dead, Diane divorced Jim when the girl was eleven years old. A broken family, from papers to fighting for custody, it was all crumbled to pieces, unlike close and tight-knit families.

Steve looked up from the ground to meet the girl’s eyes. He slowly shuffled closer to her, “Yeah okay tell me.”

Y/N breathed in and out, before leaning into his left ear, “I don’t have a sister nor a mommy.”

”What?” His chocolate eyes widened, scooting away from her, getting up rapidly to avoid contact, “That’s weird! Everybody has a mom! You’re a freak!”

Frazzled, Y/N sat still, watching him running away, feeling a bit hurt due to his reaction. She thought maybe she trusted him with her life although he didn’t feel the same, she thought that he could’ve been more supportive. What if he was right? Anyways, it was ok, it was his first reaction, it’s normal, right?

Nope, it wasn’t. After finding such intimate information about this girl he wanted to get rid of due to popularity, he set off to tell every single kid at school. Maybe this was for the best, he would get her out of the way to focus on his supposed friends. Creating such influence in the school, he somehow got ahold of everyone to turn their backs on Y/N. Oh, what entirety of hurtful words that they targeted poor Y/N with. Everyone excluded her, the freak, weirdo, dumb girl that didn’t have parents and a dead sister. Everybody no longer liked the lonely Y/N, just a bit of trust would be one to ruin a life. It consequently grew worse, it wasn’t even verbal teasing, it became physical. Steve being stupid and reckless had ruined her life, and for what? Just getting rid of her. Realize, how the effect of one's words to make a benefit can create a rumble over people, they were young and stupid..... can’t that be a proper excuse to move on?

Everyone knows Y/N. Y/N Hopper, the stubborn, tired and selfless girl who held grudges against everyone. They all knew she wasn’t going to move on anytime soon. Subtle changes to herself and her personality, she became quiet, reserved yet so outspoken about her opinions. Everyone seemed to have moved on, back into high school, more mature and old enough to hold responsibilities, but Y/N. A slow hatred burned inside her, even though it was years back, everyone liked Steve. That stayed the same for sure, he was more prissy and above it all, unlike Y/N. It may have seemed like........ they never knew each other. Strange, maybe it was better that they stayed apart.

Gallantly watching her feet stay still under her, she looked back at him cheekily smiling as if nothing had happened. Why did he forget everything? “Shouldn’t you be in class, since when has the Y/N Hopper been so rebellious?”

”I was called to the office,” Y/N mumbled, shrugging her shoulders, trying to drift off into the narrow hallway, “What about you?”

”Thought I could skip, Mrs. Wyatt doesn’t do shit.”

Without spatting anything back, the annoyance of the school bell rang for the third period, students piled out of the classrooms in the crowded hallway. Girls and boys trudged along the place, like birds migrating to their destinations automatically, it may seem like a normal fall day in town, but it would be a life changing experience for some. No one knew Will Byers, why would they care anyways?

Before Steve could look back at the girl, she disappeared into thin air, never to be seen for now, back to the boring classes, but with a small change of Will’s disappearance. One disappearance that could change the whole fate of small-town Hawkins, Indiana.

[outofsstyles]

AU | Famous!Reader x Fashion student!Harry

☁️ FIC PAGE ☁️ PART 1 ☁️

word count: 20.3k

warnings: language

//

Sweet tea in the summer

Cross your heart, won't tell no other

And though I can't recall your face

I still got love for you

- Seven, Taylor Swift

//

“Can you bend your arms one last time, please?” Harry quickly angles his arms, holding them at chest height to show Marcus what he’s referring to.

He stands in front of Harry, dressed in his full Gaston outfit for the last fitting before opening night. The atelier has gone hectic again now that everyone’s gotten back from their lunch breaks, a mess of fabrics and papers taking over every surface in the room. There’s a low mesh of voices blending with Moyra’s playlist playing on a speaker that’s probably lost somewhere by now. Someone rushes across the room in a speed walk and almost bumps into Harry, muttering a quick apology before disappearing behind the doors leading to storage. 

As the week approached, Harry was warned by pretty much every single one of his coworkers about the chaos that it would be. After all, it’s the last week of rehearsals, and the first time the actors would get in characters with their full costumes. All arrangements have to be done by Saturday morning, is what Lisa said with her stern voice the previous Friday, with no space for wardrobe malfunctions. She meant it as a warning, but Harry took it as motivation, knowing he works better under stressful situations — which is not the healthiest working ethic, he admits, but it gets the job done.

On top of it all, your unprompted visit has surprisingly given him the boost he needed to finish up most of his work with an entire day to spare. 

It’s only been two days since you appeared on his front door with a Brit statuette and a promise to make up for the years lost in each other’s lives. Your suggestion to go out for a coffee quickly showed itself to be a bit more complicated than both of you thought it would; as neither of you expected the conflict in your schedules when making those plans. This was a busy week for Harry and an even busier opening weekend. The only time he’ll actually be able to catch a breather is by Monday, which, coincidentally, is the same day you’re catching a flight back to America.

Still, none of you seemed to want to wait another week to meet again. So he proposed to meet after his Friday shift. Which is why he spent the entirety of Thursday inside the costume studio, being the last one to leave just so he could wrap everything a few hours early to meet you back at his flat — by your request.

Even with a day cut short, however, there’s been barely enough time for him to focus on anything other than measurements and fittings. It’s a good thing when it comes to his nerves; the tight schedule giving him no space to let any butterfly drift on his belly. Without the anxiousness on the way and work to keep himself busy, it’s as if the clock has gone with a leap. He sewed back details that had fallen off an extra’s costume while swallowing back the salad he’d brought for lunch, made sure Lumiere’s candleholders were fixed in place, and that no feathers from Plumette would sweep around the stage. Now, after having to make an adjustment to Gaston’s shirt - thanks to an unexpected problem with the stitching - he’s finally able to allow his shoulders to relax a bit.

Marcus mimics the movement shown to him, keeping his arms still as Harry takes a step to examine the character’s signature red shirt with his fingers fiddling with the tip of the measuring tape hanging around his shoulders.

“Does it still feel tight around your chest?” Harry asks, noting how the stitching on the sides is not stretching anymore. “Or under your arms?”

“Nope,” Marcus answers with a pop, relaxing his arms back down when Harry turns to write something down. “Fits like a glove, mate.”

He clicks his pen down on the table. “Then we’re all good.” 

“So, I’m free to go?” He jumps down from the platform, loosening the black leather belt that’s fastened around his waist.

“You’re free to go,” Harry confirms after a double-check at the file sitting on the table, making sure there’s no other change that’s needed on his costume. “Just put everything back in the bag and hang it on the rack.”

“Yes, sir.” Marcus shifts with the curtains of the changing room before disappearing inside of it.

“And make sure the label is still stuck to it!” Harry calls over his shoulder, listening to the mumbled response before turning back to the files on his hands. 

While he waits for Marcus to return, he gathers everything he needs to leave. A quick look at his phone that was left forgotten on top of a roll of blue-dyed camel tells him it’s around four, meaning he’s just in time. Checking the pages he’s been focusing on, Harry walks to the rack, selecting the two bags carrying the costumes he still needs to make adjustments on, placing them carefully over his work table before making his way to fetch his backpack.

As soon as Marcus is out, he gives a double check to see if the label is still stuck to the bag he just hanged - not entirely trusting the cast’s attention to those details - before collecting his belongings and heading for the door. He bids his goodbyes on his way out, catching the attention of Alice, who’s standing on a platform near the door while Moyra works on the skirt of her yellow dress with a few pins placed between her lips.

“Going already, H?” She asks, her eyes big as she looks down at him.

He stops in his tracks with a hand on the door handle gnawing on his inner cheek as he turns to face her. 

As soon as he meets her gaze, he notices the subtle tinge of pink painting over her cheekbones. It’s something that Harry’s gotten used to by now when speaking with Alice. 

He could tell she was shy from the moment he got to meet the entire cast, always standing quietly to the side reading her script, keeping her chats restricted to the same two people (which is funny enough of a contrast with her stage persona, considering she has the main role). But with Harry, she’s always been especially timid, and it didn’t take too long for him to learn from Moyra that the girl had taken a fancy on him — if the blushing wasn’t a big indicator.

It’s sweet, he reckons. She’s lovely enough, from the limited amount of conversations they had, and Harry finds it that maybe if she opened up a bit it would be nice to get to know her. Julia’s the one that always pesters him about it, though urging for Harry to make a move from the moment he told her about the girl’s crush on him. She says his romantic side gets especially annoying when he’s lonely, and he knows she’s right, but would never admit it to her face. So he just brushes it off, saying he’ll take the time to talk to Alice.

Except now. Harry knows he’s on the clock if he wants to make it in time to meet you. The last thing he wants is for you to have to stand on the street because he got caught up in her mutters. 

So he keeps his grip on the handle, hoping it’s enough of a hint for the conversation to be cut short, as he motions his arm that holds the clothes’ bags at the crook of his elbow. “Yeah, I- Lisa let me work on these at home.”

“So you’re not having a drink with us tonight?” Alice rushes out, eyes darting up at him, and her blush gets a shade stronger. When her lips part again, her voice comes out a bit lower,  “It’s the last one before opening night, and you haven’t gone in a while...”

“Harry’s too cool to hang out with us.” Moyra barges in the conversation, glancing teasingly at Harry from over her shoulder as she takes the last pin from between her lips.

“Shut up, Mo.” He rolls her eyes slightly, grip tightening on the door as he prepares to leave.

Before he can do so, Alice speaks up, her eyes falling again to her fingers that poke at her nails. “You know, bringing work home sometimes can cause stress… And stuff.” She peeks up at Harry, shrugging slightly. “I read about it somewhere, anyway.”

“I think I’ll be fine, really, but thanks.” Turning the knob, he cracks open the door.  “Just got something today.”

Moyra doesn’t waste a second before blurting, “A date.”

“Don’t.” He warns with a sigh. “I’m seeing an old friend.”

“That’s nice.” Alice nods.

“Yeah.” He takes a step out, being painfully aware of how he’s a second away from being late. “Uhm, I gotta get going then.”

The girl looks up at him fully then, giving a small wave. “See you tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow, yeah, for sure.” He calls over his shoulder as he’s out the door.

The tube’s just starting to get filled again with people like Harry, who are likely on their journey back home. Shoulders tense and frowns scrunching their faces, they barely pay any mind to him as he finds a spot opposite to the exit doors — preferring to stay closer to them as to get off quicker. He leans against one of the many metal rails that outline the inside of the train car, his vans bouncing nervously as he adjusts the bags at the crook of his elbow, feeling as if today it’s traveling slower than usual. 

Picking up his phone to check the time once again, he’s met with a text. It’s not from you, as he’d hoped, but from Julia. A picture of her and Blake, faces squished together as they force a smile a bit too big for the camera, their hairs meshing together in a mix - Julia’s darker curls tangling with Blake’s shorter blonde locks - and Harry can just about make out the outline of a bright orange sofa from Blake’s living room behind them. The message that reads under it is short, yet playfully demanding.

Juls: impromptu movie night!!! bring chocolate!!!

He smiles down at the screen, but it quickly turns into a frown as he realizes that he won’t be able to make it. Biting down his bottom lip, his thumb hovers above the keyboard, not sure how to respond. There’s not a chance he can fully tell the truth to her, not over text. Even if he brushes over it, he knows his friend, and how nosy she can be sometimes — which has never bothered him before until he found himself in this position. He contemplates lying. A white one, there is. Just say he got caught up with work or something along those lies. Something he knows she’d understand. But the simple thought of it makes him feel guilty; as if he’s leaving her out.

So, he opts for the ladder, pushing the responsibility for his future self to deal with the interrogation afterwards when he sees her again. Maybe if he finishes the tv show she’s been nagging him to watch in time, it’ll be enough of a distraction so she won’t ask him many questions. His answer comes a bit slower than usual — not only due to his internal battle but also for finding it a bit tricky to type with one hand. By the time he clicks the send button, Julia has already sent enough interrogation points to cover half of the screen.

Can’t tonighttt got something...

Juls: what’s something

I’ll tell you later, send Blake a hug for me.

Juls: no :(

With a chuckle, he pockets his phone,  noticing he’s just a couple of steps away from his own. Once he’s out of the station, just a couple blocks away from his building, the bundle of nerves he’s been avoiding all day sweeps in. They’re not overwhelming, they don’t make his chest tighten or his palms sweat, no. They’re the nerves that give him a spring to his step, that make him take deeper breaths, and that speed his heart just the tiniest bit.

It’s a strange feeling to be going home with the sky still shining a clear blue, instead of the purple-pink that comes just before the sun hugs the horizon. A cloudless day. Thanks to the previous streak of rainfalls that washed away the angry greys. The colors painting his surroundings seem somehow more vibrant, more welcoming. The greens of the trees greet him with a gentle breeze. The maroons of the bricked buildings warm under the sunlight. Even the yellow and the pink of his dirty vans feel a bit brighter as he strolls around the corner of his block.

It’s almost like it matches the way he feels. And Harry knows that from now on, with spring at its peak and summer becoming more present, the weather is bound to become even more pleasant. He hopes it’s some sort of sign. Maybe the universe is getting gentler with him. He’d like to think that.

Part of him still dwells on the feeling the slightest bit, finding a strange sort of uncertainty over how quickly you’ve got at the palm of your hand again. He barely got any sleep after you left his house just thinking about it, actually. There’s no denying that your presence again has brought back the fondest memories of his teenage years. Ones he tried too hard to bury as to ease the ache in his heart that came with them for a long time. But now, having you back, it’s as if they’ve taken almost a hopeful feeling. The reminders of how close you used to be came crashing into him like a wave, enveloping him. That was the first time he ever opened up so fully to someone, after all. And that comfort of having someone that knows him better than he knows himself is something he craves so deeply within himself that, as soon as even the slimmest possibility of having it once again presented itself, he grasped it so quickly that now he’s afraid he’s letting himself dive too deep.

He’s so inside of his head, thoughts rushing inside his mind, that he almost glances over you when he finally approaches his building. 

Paying little to no mind to your cream trousers as you kneel on the sidewalk, a paper bag propped under your arm and a disposable cup holder in your hand hugging two paper cups, you focus on a collie that’s enjoying your hand caressing the fur down its neck. A gold pendant from your necklace reflects the weak rays of sunlight, glowing in a contrast with the black of the short-sleeved turtleneck you’re wearing, tucked under your trousers. 

It’s only when he lets his eyes focus on the company you have that he immediately recognizes the pup, as well as the older lady holding the leash while smiling down at you interacting with her pet.  

Margaret is one of the oldest residents of the building, taking a permanent spot at the very first apartment on the first floor. She was the first neighbor he got to meet, bringing him homemade jelly tarts on his first weekend at his apartment. They chatted for an afternoon and, after admitting he’s not the best cook, she vowed to bring him some of her dishes every time she could. And true to her world, around twice a week she knocks on his door with a warm trail and a sweet smile. Harry likes to visit her as often as he can, knowing she lost her husband a few years before he moved, and has no children to keep her company — that is, apart from her collie, Duchess.

“Harry!” Margaret is the first to acknowledge him with a grin, her voice causing your head to snap up from where you kneel. “You’re early today, my love.”

“Actually, I’m a bit late.” He chuckles, glancing at where you’re standing up while sweeping your trousers. “Sorry about that.”

“Oh! No worries, I just got here.” You brush it off, finding a place next to him before gazing back at Margaret. The older lady attempts to look discreetly between the two of you, brows arched, and Harry knows from the look in her eyes he’ll probably have to face another interrogation later on. Though, in this case, he’s sure she’s oblivious of your public image. “And, thankfully, I bumped into these lovely ladies who kept me company.”

“Stop that! You’re a very lovely lady yourself, darling.” Margaret reaches for Harry’s wrist as she smiles at you, giving it a squeeze, and he quickly nods, agreeing with her. She looks up at him, lips tight in a grin that’s enough for him to realize her assumptions about why you’re here, and, from the way you’re holding back a laugh yourself, he’s sure you’ve noticed, too. He clears his throat, gazing down at his shoes, trying to cover up the warmth that creeps up his neck, and that seems to be enough for Margaret to take a hint, letting his wrist go with another gentle squeeze. “I’ll leave you two be, Duchess and I still have to grab groceries before it gets dark.”

Harry scratches his nose in a nervous tick. “‘Ave a good day, Marg.”

“You too, Lovie.” She gives his hip a soft pinch before turning to you. “It was lovely meeting you.”

“Right back at you!” You answer excitedly, waving back as the older lady starts her stroll. “Have a nice walk! Bye, Duchess.”

For a second, you quietly watch the duo walk further away from where you stand. A faint hum of car engines can be heard, being cut only by the high-pitched voices of two children, seeming not much older than ten, as they appear at the other side of the street. The peek over your shoulder is quick before you turn your back to them, turning fully to Harry with a slight smile tugging at the side of your lips. 

He clears his throat again, adjusting the bags he’s still holding. “Hi.” 

“Hey.” You answer in a beat, nodding towards him. “Your hair is down.”

“It is, yeah.” His voice comes lower than he intended, the warmth still present on his cheeks, and he quickly motions towards the front door. While fiddling with the side pocket of his backpack in search of his keys, he picks up as you lean into the bricked wall next to the entrance.

“It looks great, really! Wasn’t expecting it to be this long.”

“Yea, I- Thanks.” He shoots you a look once he fetches the keys. “Have been growing it out for a few months now.”

You give him a knowing hum. “Any reason for it?”

The click of your boots against the wooden steps echoes around the narrow walls of the building’s staircase. Harry leads the way up, climbing the steps in a bit of an awkward position as he tries to look back at you.“Uh, not really, no.”  He shrugs. “Just having fun with it, I guess.”

“That’s how it’s supposed to be!” You exclaim. “It really compliments you, I mean it.”

“Thank you.” He rubs his nose, coming to a stop as both of you reach his front door. “You- Uh, I- You look very nice, as well.”

“Oh!” You look down at your outfit with a chuckle. “I rarely go around this fancy, but I had a meeting today.” You brush it off. “Which is also not an excuse for me to dress up but I didn’t know most people there so I had to make a good impression, or whatever.”

A dimple pokes at his cheek as you ramble, a habit you seem to haven’t lost. He unlocks the door with ease, pushing it in and motioning for you to walk in. “‘S nice, very pretty, I- I mean, your trousers are very pretty.”

Your smile grows as you support yourself on the wall while toeing off your shoes. If you notice the blush on his cheeks, you don’t mention it. “Thank you! Means a lot coming from you, you know?”

“Yeah?”

“Well, you’re the fashion student, after all.” He’s not sure why your answer comes in a bit of a letdown, almost as if he was expecting you to say something else. “By the way, I got us some goodies on the way. Didn’t know how you like your coffee, so I just took a wild guess. Here, try it— If you don’t like it you can have mine, it’s a cappuccino, very sweet.” You worry your bottom lip between your teeth, watching for his reaction as he sips on the hot beverage. “So...?”

“It’s perfect.” He takes another small sip of the cup you handed to him, trying not to make a face at the slightly bitter taste that comes with it (he’s still not the biggest coffee fan, if he’s honest). He makes his way to lay the bags that now have slid down his elbow at the arm of the couch. Noticing you’re still standing awkwardly by the front door looking around, he points at the counter next to him, quickly sweeping his arm over it to brush the stack of papers to the side.  “You can set everything in here, please feel at home.”

This is the first time you properly get to have a look around his place, which is weird enough of a concept when you take into consideration it’s not the first time you’ve come here (and the flash memory of that night alone is enough for you to fight back a cringe). You recall the path to your right leading towards the bathroom where you spent an hour sitting inside his bathtub before having to answer a not-very-pleased Sonia calling your phone. The rest of the place, however, is a bit of a blur in your memory, so you take this moment to take in his home.

Surely, the space itself is quite modest, but it doesn’t mean there’s not a lot to take in. From your position across from him, the island separating the two of you, you can still scan most of his living room. 

You like that it’s not completely tidy (those sorts of crystal clean homes always freak you out a bit). Upon a first glance, it’s clearly the residence of an undergrad. A couple textbooks pile on top of a center table. A shut laptop sitting next to the cushions on the navy blue couch. Even a few houseplants amongst picture frames spread on shelves and stands. It’s cute, you think, but you barely sweep your eyes over those details.

What calls your attention are the glimpses of the life you’ve missed on. It’s the magazines decorated with sticky notes. It’s the rolls of fabric peeking out from the couch arm. It’s a box of yarn tucked in the far corner, on top of other boxes that are shut closed. Those details seem to have replaced his canvases and paint sets. It makes you wonder if he still keeps them hidden somewhere. If there’s still anything left of the life he had the last time you saw him. 

Oddly enough, you smile at the thought. Somehow glad that he found his passion, even if you weren’t there to support him through it. And it brings you back to why you’re here in the first place. Make up for the lost time.

“Thank you for agreeing to do this here.” You speak up as you focus back on taking the sweets you so carefully picked out from inside the bag (you weren’t entirely sure of his dessert preferences now, which caused the slightest rise of panic as you tried to decide on what to pick from the vast array of options). “I know it’s weird to ask you to, like, have me at your house instead of just meeting at a cafe, but the one I usually go to is closed for renovations and I get a bit wary at, uh, public places.”

“It’s alright, I don’t mind having you here.” A small grin tugs at his lips, and it’s hard for you to ignore the warmth that comes to you with it. 

You clap your hands together, gazing around quickly before focusing back on him. “So! I finally get to properly see your place— sorry about that the other night, by the way, I don’t know what I was thinking.”

He chuckles. “It’s really okay, like I said, don’t mind having you here.” He repeats, clearing his throat. “It’s, uh, not that big but-”

“I love it, seems so cozy.” You interrupt before he can go on any further, hating the way he feels the need to apologize to you for something like the size of his home. “And it’s a perfect place to have just for yourself.”

“Actually, I-” His lips stay apart for half a second before he continues, blurting the next words out as if it’s a confession, “I have a flatmate.”

“Oh!” You blink in surprise, taking a second to process the information. 

Of course he does. Why did you even think otherwise? Most people share flats these days. Despite that, the possibility of him living with someone didn’t even cross your mind. It’s hard to ignore when it comes to you the riskiness of it. Whoever this flatmate is, you don’t know them, and the possibility of them spilling anything makes you a tad uneasy. It could easily ruin any possibility of a friendship with Harry before you can even get close to him again. 

There’s a wave of anxiety that hits you with the prospect of being the cause of his face printed on the cover of money-hungry tabloids, but, before you get deeper in your own nerves than you already have, you sum what’s left of composure within you to ask,  “Do they... Have you told them about-- well, me?”

He tears up a piece of banana bread, picking at it as he shakes his head, clearly unaware of your change in moods. “Not, really. She’s at her girlfriend’s for the week, so I haven’t been able to see her.”

You try to hide the way your eyes widen the slightest bit with the information that said flatmate is a she. “Is she a fashion student as well?”

“No, she’s a journalist. She works— well, interns for a music magazine, actually.”

Of course she’s a fucking journalist. When you think it couldn’t get any worse. “Anything that would ring a bell?”

“I don’t think so, they’re quite small.” He shrugs, sipping at his coffee.  “Don’t even have an office, they do most of the work online.”

“That’s interesting.” You nod, nails picking at a few crumbs dotted around the counter. Scrunching your lips, you try to consider how to word what you’re about to say. Knowing this conversation would have to be brought up eventually doesn’t make it any less awkward for you to have it. You peek up at him from under your lashes, only to find his oblivious state as he smiles back at you. “Harry… Can I ask you for a favour?” 

“Course.”

Inhaling deeply, you attempt not to let your voice come out as calculated as the words that roll out of your lips are. “Could you… Just for a bit, not mention anything about me to her?”

Harry’s expression falls to a frown. “What do you mean?”

“Just--” You pause, resting your cup down before turning to face him fully. “Just for a little while, I-- You have to understand that I would like to be a bit more private… About us?”

“Us?”

“Our friendship… I-” There it is again, the gust of panic. It makes you spit out the words before you can even process them,  “I wouldn’t want any headlines.” 

This only seems to worsen everything it seems, as Harry sits back on his stool, putting more space between you two. He shakes his head, “Julia would never do that.”

“I’m sure she wouldn't!” You rush, attempting to fix it. “It’s just… She could mention it to someone, and-- I don’t know, these things get out of hand really fast.” 

“So you want me to lie to her?”

“Not lie.” You chew at your bottom lip, sure that you’re a word away from getting kicked out. “Just, not to mention it… Just for a little while, it’s not like it can be a secret forever.”

“Right.” He slowly starts to nod, falling quiet for a beat too long. “Sure, yeah, okay.”

You exhale in relief, softening your expression. “Thank you.”

A silence falls between the two of you and, for the first time since your reconnection, it’s not much of a comfortable one. You have to swallow back the guilt that threatens to take over, knowing the awkwardness is mainly your fault for dealing with your request in such an awful way. Of course, you would have to have the privacy talk with Harry eventually, ideally being sooner rather than later. But asking him to lie and insinuating that his friend could use you to sell her magazine is most certainly the worst way you could’ve chosen to go about it. And there’s nothing to stop yourself from feeling completely stupid while picking at the brownie in front of you.

There’s a part of you, one that comes a bit louder now, that ponders if even bother continuing this in the first place; if it wouldn’t be better to spare him the burden that the simple association with you will bring into his life. You know it would be easier, better for him even, if you just collect your stuff now and walk out the door to never contact him again. If you excused this meeting as a lapse of rationality on your part. And just like that, you could let him go on with his regular life, having to come to terms with him painting a picture of you as another arrogant celebrity that just toyed with him for a bit before she got bored. It would hurt, sure, but this part of you tries to reason that it’s the best you could do for him.

Another part, though, a more selfish one that is, can’t bear the thought of standing up from your stool and just simply turn your back to this as if it never happened. No, you can’t bring yourself to do that. Not when meeting Harry again has brought you a sense of comfort you hadn’t even realized you’ve been lacking for months now. Not when he feels like the only person who doesn’t have an image of you shadowed by this big bright monster of fame — one that calls everyone’s attention before they can even take a proper look at you. You know he doesn’t need that, because of all the versions you present of yourself, he’s one of the few people that know which is the real one. 

This part of you makes you act thoughtlessly, letting your emotions speak louder than your brain. It makes you want to follow the immediate sense of relief that comes in knowing there’s no need to change anything to fit an imaginary narrative someone has made of you. There’s no need to do that with Harry. You’re so desperate to keep that ease that comes with being in his presence, that any thought of how it’ll eventually come crashing down on you is pushed to the back of your mind.

Worrying your lip between your teeth, you risk a glance up at him. To your relief, there’s not a crease between his brows like you expected. He doesn’t seem upset about your question anymore, his shoulders relaxed while he focuses on tearing a piece of the banana bread and shoving it into his mouth. The realization makes you straighten your posture, a sudden rush of determination flushing through your body. You’ve come here to get to know him again, and you’re not letting a poor start weigh you down. And, as your gaze falls to the costume bags lying across the couch arm behind him, an inquiry that has been floating through your mind comes back to you.

“So…” You clear your throat, leaning your elbow to rest on top of the counter as you rest your chin on your palm. Harry’s eyes shoot up at you, and you grin a bit as you point to the spot behind him. “Are you going to tell me a bit about that?”

His brows frown for a second as he looks back, finding the bags that called your attention from the moment you saw him on the sidewalk.  “What would you like to know?”

“Well, last time we spoke you were talking about working in a gallery.” You circle your cup in your hand, bringing it up to your lips but not yet taking a sip.  “And now, I have the information that you dropped out just a wee after; how did that happen?”

"It took a while for it to happen, actually.”  He crosses his arms on top of the counter, leaning in slightly. “Dunno if you remember but, uhm… This might be a bit awkward.”

Your brows raise towards your hairline, his words only enhancing your curiosity. “It’s okay, whatever you feel comfortable sharing.”

“I don’t mind it, just- well, after we broke up,” He starts, clearing his throat as his gaze searches for yours, eyes flickering between your own in search of a reaction. He was right. This is awkward. You try to remain a calm expression, nodding in encouragement for him to continue — although you want nothing more than to flinch at the words. “I was, uh, well, sad.” He lets out a quick chuckle. “A friend of mine- James, dunno if you remember them- they recommended a knitting group class kinda thing that they were in every Wednesday, told me it was quite therapeutic and calming, and stuff.”

“That’s cute.” You comment, trying to brush off the way your chest tightens at the brief mention of his feelings post-breakup, knowing how hard it was for both of you.

He smiles at you before continuing, “Got the hang of it pretty fast, actually. James was right being therapeutic. After a bit, I started going twice a week.” He reaches to brush his fingers over a napkin. You watch as his fingertips slide gently along its edge. “The lady that taught it, Laura- you’d ‘ve loved her, used to bake us biscuits every week. She had graduated in fashion, actually owned a boutique for a good fifty years.”

“Holy shit,” Your lips part in awe. “Can you imagine doing something for that long?”

“‘S exactly what got me thinking.” He peeks up at you, lips twitching up. “Around that time I was so confused about what to do with an art degree, and I realized it wasn’t really something I saw myself doing for decades on end.” 

Understanding, you give him a warm smile, toying with the lid of your cup as to not reach for his hand. Even though you weren’t around anymore at the time the events he’s describing took place, you still remember how confused he was right from the start. Harry’s always had an artist in him, and that’s something that wasn’t hard for anyone to see, but it was clear then how he wasn’t completely satisfied with his path. Back then, before you two parted ways, you recall thinking he was still adjusting with uni, and that eventually, he’d find his passion within the arts. It never occurred to you he might not be in the field he loved, after all. 

Looking back at it now, it makes sense.

“Laura helped me a lot during that time. She was the one that even introduced fashion as a possibility for me, we would talk for hours.” It’s hard to miss the fond smile that tugs his lips at the memory. “She even started inviting me for a cuppa outside of class hours, answer all my questions- even the stupid ones, she was really patient. Was almost like a mentor of sorts.” 

“She sounds like an awesome human.” Your voice is gentle, admiring how the words come out of him with an admiration that makes you warm all over.

“She was.” His eyes fall to his hands. Your expression softens, suddenly noticing how he’s been using the past tense when talking about her. “She told me once that sometimes making a career out of a hobby is not always the way to go, you know? Takes away the fun of it if you feel obligated to do it. It was then when I decided to switch.”

“Were you scared?” 

“Terrified.” You two laugh. “I was choosing a path that I’d never even considered before. It was so new, I was so scared I wasn’t making the right decision. It scared me that maybe fashion wasn’t also my thing, you know? Cause if it wasn’t, then what?”

“I get that.” You risk resting your hand next to his, sticking your pinky out to brush against his. He quickly interlaced them, smiling down at the gesture. “I’m glad it worked out, and you found something you’re passionate about.”

“Me too.” He replies, mimicking your position as he brings the hand that’s not enlaced with yours to rest under his cheek.

You smile, and he smiles, too.  

//

“Why can’t we just stay in tonight?”

The question leaves your lips in almost an annoyed huff. The third one in the last five minutes. Aya doesn’t spare you a glance this time, her eyes focusing solely on sweeping the white eyeliner over her eyelid as she finishes the last few touches of her makeup.

Her apartment is lit up with a golden glow, the lights having been lowered and the flame of a couple of green lavender candles helping set the relaxing energy of the room. It’s the primary reason you love staying at Aya’s; her place is always cozy, no matter which house of hers you’re in (even though you have a softer spot for her New York apartment). And it helps to have company, since your place has been uneasily empty lately. 

The original plan was simple: make dinner while catching up with the last Game of Thrones season. You’ve been looking forward to it all week. After days of hopping from long meetings to recording sessions, only to go home to your cold bed, reuniting with Aya was the one thing that kept you from catching the first flight back to London as soon as your errands were dealt with. So, it’s hard not to express your disappointment about having to attend some dinner party a good thirty minutes away from her warm apartment.

The thing is, the suggestion didn’t even come from Aya, but rather a surprise guest you weren’t even expecting to be here at the same time as you, Claire. 

And it’s not like you don’t like Claire, you do, well, you try to, which is the best you can do for now. She's been friends with Aya for a couple of months and, with Aya, it’s not that hard to become friends with her, if you’re honest. So you never really bother to keep track of the ones that come and go as quick as the pendulum of a clock. It’s something you’ve grown used to with the years of friendship. But unlike most of them, Claire seems to have stuck like an annoying piece of gum at the bottom of your boots.

In reality, you know it’s unfair to her to be annoyed when she’s really done nothing wrong. The sole reason for you two not mashing that well is more of a conflict in personalities than anything else. Usually, you manage to ignore that in order to keep at least somewhat of a friendly relationship with her during nights out -- more for Aya’s sake than yours. And sometimes you even enjoy her presence! When she’s not surrounded by big groups of people  (rare) and doesn’t feel the need to be obnoxiously loud for no reason, at those times when it’s just the three of you, she’s actually quite nice to talk to.

But now, you honestly wish you could glue her lips together and quite literally kick her out the front door. As she rushes around the place, - from the walk-in closet to the bathroom to the bedroom and so on - her voice so loud in attempts to speak over the playlist she put on just over two hours ago. The mesh of noises is so much you’d be sure no one heard your complaint if it wasn’t for Aya’s reply just a minute later.

“We stay in every day.” You watch as she bends over the sink, getting closer to the mirrored wall as she applies her lipstick carefully. With a smack of her lips, her eyes meet yours in the reflection. “I think it’d be good for you to go out.”

“Just two months ago you were complaining about how much I go out, and now you complain that I don’t go out enough?” You arch your brows, fully aware of how whiny you sound.

“Well, not my fault you don’t know how to balance your social life.” She focuses back on herself, opening a product you can’t make out what it is and tapping it against her cheekbones. “It’s either going out every single day to the point of no sleep or becoming a hermit inside your house.”

You pout. “I’m working, you know tha-”

“It’s cause she only goes out with her LA friends now, Meme.” Claire blurts out as she appears from inside the closet, holding one of Aya’s transparent coats. You keep a straight face as you turn to look at her, trying not to cringe with her nickname for Aya. She seems oblivious of your annoyance, though, making her way to lean on the archway leading to where Aya’s finishing getting ready. “Now it’s all about Dora and - what’s his name?”

Aya interrupts before you have the chance to bite back, “It’s not even that, C, think she’s found something more interesting keeping her in London.” 

The smirk she shoots you from over her shoulder makes you avert your eyes, a blush creeping up your neck, warming all the way to the tip of your ears. The knowing look on her face could almost make you entirely flustered, as if she knows exactly the reason you’ve been so comfortable staying in London by yourself — especially now that the sole thought of being alone sends a tight grip to your chest. But you know there’s no reason for you to be nervous about it. You haven’t told a single person about your reconnection with Harry yet, somehow feeling an odd sort of protectiveness over it. And you’re not sure why this new flame of happiness still feels so fragile to you, so delicate, that a simple, outspoken word to the wrong person could take it away from you. 

And oh, how scared you are of it being taken away as quickly as it came to you.

So you’ve kept it within your grasp for as long as you can. Away from prying eyes and greedy hands. It’s the one thing that you have now that feels just yours, the one part of you that no one else knows about. That’s the sole reason you even asked him to keep it a secret in the first place.

Still, that doesn’t mean that people around haven’t noticed the sudden change in you — as small as you thought it was, it surely didn’t go unnoticed by those that know you so well. Sonia was the first to mention it. When you couldn’t keep yourself from checking your phone every five minutes during a studio session, she had teased you about it. You brushed it off, and she made no more comments about it, thankfully. But you didn’t miss the looks she gave you every time you excused yourself to make a phone call.

With Aya, though, you know it won’t be as easy to get her to disregard your behavior. You hoped she hadn’t caught on when earlier in the afternoon she nudged you about being all smiley while reading a text (Harry had just sent you a picture of Duchess wearing a knitted vest he’d made for her and you had it open when Aya peeked from over your shoulder to see what you were looking at, so you just said it was a message from your sister before quickly locking the screen). 

However, after her comment, you’re sure she’s clearly aware that something’s up. And, knowing Aya, you’re aware she won’t drop this subject until you tell her exactly what it is that’s keeping you in London. Before she has the chance to poke further, you’re saved by none other than Claire, who did not pick up on Aya’s grin shot towards you. Barely registering the meaning behind her words at all, actually, as she makes her way to sit at the foot of the bed. “Well, whatever it is, I think I might have something to keep you here with us.”

Thankfully, Aya drops the subject, only widening her eyes slightly at you, almost in a warning at what’s coming. “Here it comes.”

You frown, glancing from your friend that stands opposite you to the girl that’s scooping closer to where your legs rest. “What do you mean?”

“I know you’re still having a hard time after Noah.” The words spill from her lips and you almost choke on your own saliva at her bluntness. There was a sort of silent agreement between you and Aya about not mentioning your ex by name. So hearing it being outspoken without expecting it surely comes in a bit of a shock. But Claire still seems oblivious of it, only reaching to grip right under your knee in what’s supposed to be a reassuring gesture, you guess. “But it’s been so long now! Maybe you need a little push with, like, getting over him.”

“A push.” It’s hard to keep the affronting expression that tugs down your lips.

“Someone.” A squeeze to your knee. You want to push it off. “There’s this guy-”

That’s it. You close your eyes with a deep breath. “Claire-”

“Before you say no, listen to me!” She holds out her hands, in a habit of gesturing her words when she explains herself. “There’s this guy, okay? He works with my brother at NYT and I met him a couple of times, and- Just listen! The whole time we were talking, I could only think of you! I was like ‘oh my god, she’s gonna love him’ cause he’s totally your type!”

You scoff, glancing over at Aya who’s clearly trying to keep herself occupied. “Is this why you’re dragging me out tonight?”

Her deer-in-the-headlights eyes meet yours in the reflection. “Hey, I have nothing to do with Mr. Perfect here. As I said, I just think it’d be good for you to go out.”

“Just meet him, okay? You don’t have to go out on a date or anything just-” Claire brings your attention back to herself. “Just talk for a bit, see if you click. I think it’ll be good.” Her voice gets softer, shoulder dropping. “I’m just trying to help.”

There’s not an ounce of you that wants to engage in any sort of small-talk filled conversation, having close to no patience in getting to know someone new at this moment of your life. The prospect of having to sit and pretend whatever this man is going to tell you about himself interests you for god knows how long is enough to make you want to swim all the way back to England in your stilettos. But it’s clear that Claire’s intentions with this are far from malicious in any way, and you can’t help but feel bad for lashing out at her. So you just sigh, letting the words fall from your lips before you think about it enough to regret them,  “Okay.”

Her face lights up. “Yeah?”

“Yeah, sure, I’ll chat with him.”

She squeals. “You’ll love him! I’m telling you-”

“Claire,” You interrupt before she can get ahead of herself. “You sound like you’re envisioning a wedding already. I agreed to chat. That's it.”

“Chat. Okay, it’s a start.” She nods, a smile too big for her face before squealing again, throwing a look over her shoulder. “Right, Meme? Don’t you think it’ll be good for her?”

“Please, I’m just the audience in this conversation.” She calls back, turning to face you after a second to motion to the coat sitting on Claire’s lap. “Is this the coat you chose?”

Claire jumps from her spot in the bed at the mention of it. “Yes! What do you think? Wait- I’ll try it on, see if you can still notice the pink details on my dress.”

The girl bolts towards the walk-in closet where there are larger mirrors she can see herself better on and, just as she turns her back, Aya shoots you a wink before following her. 

You relax back into the arrangement of pillows, another sigh leaving your lips as it comes to you what you’ve just agreed on. Sometimes you wish you weren’t so easily persuaded by a pair of puppy eyes, knowing the consequences of it almost always have to do with you doing something you’re not too comfortable with. Your eyes shut close and you have to refrain from rubbing your face as not to ruin the makeup Aya applied so carefully. The night has barely started and you already feel exhausted mentally. Not wanting to dwell on it further, you make a mental note to yourself: learn how to say no.

Turning your face, you pick up the phone that was left forgotten next to you during the chat with Claire. To your surprise, the screen lights up showing a text from Harry received just about five minutes ago. You try not to sit up too suddenly, as not to call attention to yourself, while you swipe your thumb over the screen to open the message. 

A smile tugs on your lips before you can even read what it says, simply reacting to the picture attached to it. The first thing you notice is his hair, poking out of his head in a messy mesh resembling somewhat of a mane. You bite back a giggle at the thought. His face is lit up, mouth parted in an open smile as he gives a thumb up to the camera. You take a moment too long looking at his face until you realize what the picture is meant to show. You. Next to him, on the screen of his telly, grinning with the blue sunglasses you wore to the music video shoot.

The text under it is short, but it causes the most beautiful flowers to bloom under your chest.

H: Found this cutie while browsing todayy

H: Looks familiar? ;)

//

“That’s definitely too much.”

You glanced back at Harry as your eyebrows shot towards your hairline, challenging. His own face mimicked your expression, peeking down at the cup of flour in your hands before meeting your eyes again. With his locks being pulled up with your hair tie, it’s hard to take him seriously after you’d teased him about resembling a sprout when he first walked into the kitchen, ignoring his protests to playfully sweep the tiny bouquet of curls with your finger.

“How many times do I have to tell you, this is the exact amount?” You replied, trying to keep a straight face.

“How do you know? You’re not even measuring it!”

“It’s a muffin, Harry, how difficult can it be?” You rolled your eyes in feign annoyance, turning the cup into the mixing bowl before he could protest it. “I can do it by eye just fine.”

“This is chaotic.” He scrunched his nose, shaking his head in disbelief at the cloud of flour that floated through the air at how abruptly you threw it. “Making a bloody mess, you are.”

“Yeah, yeah, now tell me what’s next.”

He exhaled a chuckle, secretly enjoying your antics, before turning to check the open recipe book that sat on the counter. His finger followed the words written in instructions, and you observed with amusement the crease forming on his face as he attempted to decipher your nan’s handwriting. It took him a second before he clicked his tongue, “We should’ve mixed the wet ingredients first.”

“Does it make a difference?” You bit back a smile, knowing your words would get a reaction out of him.

And, as you predicted, Harry’s face turned into an appalled expression. “Does it make a difference?” He repeated your question, astounded. “Of course it makes a difference!”

You giggled, reaching for the milk carton. “I’m sure the muffins will be fine if I put in the milk after the flour, they won’t even notice.”

“Christ,” He shook his head again, a few curls falling loose against his forehead with the motion. “Baking with you is going to make me go gray by the time I reach my twenties.”

This time you let out a full laugh, mouth falling open in fake offense. “You’re so dramatic!”

Harry smiled, then, both dimples poking deeply into his cheeks as he reached to take the carton from your hands. You two finished mixing the batter, taking a bit too long to get it inside the oven as you enjoyed pestering Harry in the process a bit too much. Every so often someone walked into the kitchen to pick up some drinks or leave dirty dishes by the sink, checking in on the both of you with that smile adults always give you when you’re with Harry (usually followed by some corny joke about young love that made you roll your eyes).

It was the day of one of the barbecue parties your parents always threw at the beginning of summer break. They would invite their closest circle of friends to spend the day in your back garden, usually followed by a ‘luau’ (as your dad called it, even though it was definitely not a luau) once your parents got tipsy enough to bring out the guitars and light up a fire. 

When everyone was a tad lethargic from lunch, relaxing back into their chairs as the sun felt hotter as it shone proudly on the cloudless sky, you had the idea of baking your nan’s recipe of blueberry muffins.

Usually, the tradition of baking a dessert to be freshly served in the afternoon was left to your mum and sister -- who was almost passing the age in which she wanted to have a hand in everything to call attention to herself. But you were faster this time, volunteering to do the task, and dragging Harry with you, as you were eager to have some time alone with him without having someone interrupting to ask him yet another football question that left you bored out of your mind.

So, you take advantage of having the kitchen to yourselves, bumping your hips against his as you two swept the counter quietly, cleaning the mess you’d made earlier. Your aunt had just left the kitchen after making one of those comments regarding marriage that are meant solely to embarrass both of you, and a faint blush was still visible on his cheeks. It made you want nothing more than to reach up and press your lips to them, only to feel the spot of his dimple deepening with a smile.

The air was smelling sweeter when you threw the dirty cloth inside the sink, leaning back into the island as you watched Harry crouch to peek inside the oven. You couldn’t help the grin as you noticed the muffins spilling out of their cases as expected. 

“Told you it would work out.”

“I don’t know how you do it.” He stood, resting a hand on the counter next to you, leaning into it. “Do absolutely everything wrong but still manage to make it work.”

“Hey!” You giggled, pushing him softly with your hand as you dragged out the word. “I did absolutely everything right just… In my own way.”

“Yeah?” His finger twirled on the hook of your jeans, pulling at it as he moved to stand in front of you, keeping a hand resting on the counter next to your waist. “The world bends its rules for you, it seems.” Pressing a peck at the corner of your mouth, he mumbled, lips close enough that you could feel every word caressing your skin, “Don’t blame it, though.”

You chuckled. “Oh? Do you bend your rules for me too?”

“Of course,” His nose tickled the apple of your cheek, causing you to shrug your shoulder slightly. You felt his warm breath as he exhaled a laugh, pressing a quick kiss to your cheek. “Would never let anyone else butcher a batch of muffins in my presence like you just did.”

“Harry!” You cried out, shoving him off playfully. “I’m never baking for you ever again, you can starve during lunch from now on, see if I care.”

He laughed again, leaning down to bite the tip of your nose before you quickly tried to push him away. “Stop, baby, you know I’m just joking.”

“Too late now, you already lost your dessert privilege.”

“Ouch.” Harry pouted, attempting to pull his puppy eyes to get you to budge, but you simply raised your brows at him, chewing your inner cheek to prevent a smile from growing on your face. He started to lean down to press his lips on yours but he could barely move before the doors leading outside slid open again, startling both of you, causing Harry to quickly step back.

Your sister’s face peeked up curiously from her spot at the door frame, a juvenile smile teasing at her lips at the scene she’d just interrupted.

“What do you want, Ly?”

Lyla shot you a condescending look from your harsh tone, “I’m not here for you, dumb face.” She took out her tongue, and you rolled your eyes — sometimes she’s too much of a thirteen-year-old. “Auntie Sue said you were done and Harry promised to help me with a project.”

“A project?” You raised your brows, glancing at the boy next to you who was already adorning a guilty smile on his face.

“I did promise that.”

“It’s a secret project!” Lyla’s voice raised to a higher pitch.

“Okay, then.” You sighed, looking between the two of them before setting your eyes on Harry again. The pout is clear in your voice as you speak up,

“Seems like your presence is being required.” You nod towards Harry’s vibrating phone that sits on top of the table behind the two of you.

“Oops, sorry.” He shoots you a guilty smile before reaching over his shoulder for the device.

You avert your eyes as he glances down at the screen, focusing on the sunrays that peek from between the leaves of your green fence, painting the tips of the grass gold. It’s been just over a month since your first coffee date (you only call it that for lack of a better word) and, with summer just around the corner, the days are beginning to stretch longer. The sun is still bright and proud as the afternoon meets the evening. There’s a warmth that’s not yet too insufferable, but more like welcomed after months of endless drizzle and sharp winds. 

It’s perfectly fitting for a nice lazy day like this one. 

This is the first time you got to properly have him around for the day. Despite Harry having wrapped his term just about a week ago and your agenda keeping you in London for the next few months, both your schedules only seem to have gotten tighter. You spend most of your time during the week inside the recording studio — the sessions dragging into the evening hours more often than not, as you find yourself too caught up with them. Meanwhile, Harry’s back to working his regular working hours now that Act One has officially started working on the productions for the summer season.

Surprisingly, though, you fell into a routine of sorts quite easily. You still chat every day, not limiting your communication to texting alone (though you still love receiving Harry’s random pictures throughout the day), but also making phone calls most days once both of you have finally settled in bed after long working hours. And it’s not like you’re not able to see each other with these scheduling complications, it’s only that those hangouts are limited to either weekends or early evenings. 

On the two-week mark, after you met again, you could finally take him to the proper coffee hangout that you’d promised. The cafe in question is one you’ve been going to for over a year now. A friend recommended it, and you instantly loved it for how hidden it is, and most frequented by an older audience — which means you’re able to sneak in and out with no hassle. You took Harry there on a Sunday morning, and it surprised you to find that the place is actually much closer to his flat than your house. So, after cups of iced coffee and shared muffins, you two walked all the way to his place, enjoying the laziness that allows people to sleep in as the week reaches an end.

That was one of your favorite days with him. It had been a long while since you allowed yourself to simply relax during a walk; forgetting how it feels to be aware of every corner you turn. That’s the easy thing about being with Harry, you’ve found the simple concept of relaxing. He allows you to let your guard down, to enjoy those things you’ve once taken for granted. The ones that bring a sense of normalcy that can easily be overlooked by those who don’t get to experience the other side of it. It’s something you’re sure Harry doesn’t even realize he’s brought back to your life, but you still show your silent gratitude in any way you can.

It’s what made you invite him to your house for lunch in the first place. It didn’t go unnoticed to you how most times you end up back in his flat and, as much as he repeats how he enjoys your presence there, it doesn’t stop you from feeling the slightest bit self-conscious about it. 

“Shit.” Harry mutters under his breath, his fingers tapping swiftly on the screen, a frown deepening on his face.

Raising your brows, you wait a second before speaking up, afraid of interrupting whatever it is that has him alarmed, “Everything alright?”

“Julia’s making dinner tonight.” He replies, eyes scanning the device in his hands before sighing. “Completely forgot.”

“Oh. Is it, like-” You pause, glancing down at your phone that’s left forgotten in your lap, pressing the home button to check the time. The screen lights up, letting you know it’s just around six, meaning Harry’s been over for just about seven hours now. “Shit, I’m so sorry, didn’t mean to keep you-”

“Don’t apologize.” He locks his phone, shooting a reassuring smile your way. “My fault, really. Just completely slipped off my mind.”

You nod, watching him gnawn at his bottom lip, brows meeting in a frown as he gets deep in thought. Parting your lips. You don’t let any word out at first, afraid that if you do, he’ll remember it's time for him to go back. There’s a selfish voice in your head that wants to ask him to stay a bit longer, to not part ways yet, to just call off on this dinner. But you know better than to say any of it out loud, opting to suck in your lips instead, as if the words could just slip out without your consent.

Harry sighs, and you can’t help but let your shoulders fall, knowing what’s coming. “I should get going.” He picks up his empty glass, pocketing his phone as he stands with a huff. “Julia’s not very happy that I’m late.” He chuckles. “Again.”

Laughing, you get up from your chair as well, patting the back of your thighs as you feel your skin a bit sore from sitting for so long. Before you can answer him, however, your attention snaps towards the opened door leading to your kitchen, as a small figure comes rushing towards you. You feel the soft fur against your legs before you can properly register the pup circling you. Once you realize what’s going on, as the familiar black spaniel greets you, you freeze in your spot, glancing from the dog that now jumps excitedly on Harry’s legs to the door where he came from.

“You didn’t tell me you had a pup.” Harry smiles, his voice getting a higher pitch as he kneels to pet behind his ears. “Hey buddy, where did you come from?”

“I don’t.” You reply, walking towards the house as you search for the owner who’s likely already found her spot in the kitchen.

“Huh?” You hear from behind you as you stride towards the house. 

Surely, as predicted, you spot her hiding halfway inside your fridge, back turned to you. You notice how Bella’s blonde locks are way shorter since last time you saw her — now stopping just above her shoulders. As surprised as you are, you don’t comment on it, simply staring at your intruder of a friend as you try to figure the situation in hand. 

This isn't exactly how you’d planned to introduce Harry to your friend group. Well, shit.

Bella doesn’t pay any mind to you at first, but certainly senses your presence as she speaks out from over her shoulder. “Hey, did you not buy any more greek yo- Oh.” She stops as she turns, just in time when Harry walks in with the dog cradled in his arms. Her eyes jump between the two of you as she pushes the fridge’s door to a close. “Hi.”

“Hello.” You shoot her a look.

Harry puts the pet down, “Hi.”

“Uhm,” You stand awkwardly, playing with the rings hugging your fingers. Bella raises her brows in a silent question and you sigh. It’s not like you can do anything now. “Harry, this is my friend, Bella. Bella, this is Harry.” You motion your arms between them as you introduce one another.

Harry clears his throat. And you can only suppose how confused he must be, considering you mentioned nothing about a friend visiting today. But it’s not like you were aware of it, either. Bellas and you are at that point in your friendship in which you don’t find the need to announce your visits anymore, simply making yourselves at home every time both of you are in town.

He glances at you for a second, before nodding at your friend. “Nice to meet you.”

“Likewise.” She grins politely. There’s a beat of quietness that no one really knows what to say next, and you can feel a silent pressure for you to break it. When you don’t, Bella points vaguely to a spot behind her, “Uh, I can come back tomorrow…”

Your lips part as you try to stop her, but before you can do so, Harry beats you to it.“You don’t have to, really. I was just leaving, actually.” He scratches his nose. “I don’t mean to intrude on anything you two have planned…” 

“Oh, no, that’s not it!” Bella rushes.

“We have nothing planned.” You assure him, glancing between your friends. “Bella just comes to visit whenever she’s in London.”

“Yeah, I was the one interrupting.” She backs you up, clicking her tongue. “Should’ve called first.”

"That's okay.” You tell her.

“Well, I hope you two enjoy the rest of your day, then.” Harry nods, eyes meeting yours as he mutters, “I really need to get going.”

“Oh, yeah, of course.” You say, “I’ll take you to the door.”

With one last wave to Bella, he follows you as you guide the way towards the front door. You open it for Harry, allowing him to step out first before you let it close behind you — as to avoid the dog from running out. Leaning back against it, you shoot him a small smile.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know she was coming.” You point back. “She has the keys so…”

“That’s fine.” He reassures, hands hiding inside the pocket of his jeans. There’s a second of silence, as you two just enjoy each other’s presence for a little before having to bid your goodbyes. You can’t help but let your eyes fall to his shirt once again — although being a simple white tee, the words I spread like strawberries embroidered to it have been haunting you all afternoon. Once your eyes move up again, you don’t find his, as he glances down at his shoes, a cute reddish tone painting the apple of his cheeks. When he speaks up, he peaks up at you from under his lashes, “I had a lovely time, as usual.”

“Me too.” You bite down a smile, tilting your head. “As usual.”

He nods, looking over his shoulder before back at you. Chewing down the side of his lip, he asks, “I’ll see you?”

You try to think of a date to give him, knowing as summer progresses your schedule will only get tighter with the studio sessions. “Uhm, probably sometime at the end of the week, maybe? I’m a bit busy, but I’ll let you know.”

“Alright.” He nods, staring for a second before stepping forward to embrace you into a hug. “Take care, love.” His words come out a bit muffled as he squishes his face on the crook of your neck.

You giggle as the strands of his hair tickle the side of your face. “You too, H.” 

Pulling away, he steps backward, pointing at you in a playful warning. “Still owe me a lemon tart.”

“Gotcha.”

Taking a deep breath, you watch for a bit longer as he walks away, waving a last goodbye before disappearing back inside your house. You give yourself a moment to prepare for the wave of questions waiting for you as soon as you step back into the kitchen. 

You find Bella twirling on a stool propped next to the island, spoon in her mouth and an open package of greek yogurt sitting on the counter. As soon as you walk in, she stops, pulling the spoon out as her brows shoot towards her hairline. She doesn’t wait a second before questioning, “So…” A smirk grows on her face and she points vaguely with her spoon to a spot behind you. “Harry?”

You groan, taking a seat next to her. “You were not supposed to walk in on that.”

“Well, I’m sorry! How was I supposed to know?”

“I don’t know, maybe try calling?”

“I never call before coming here.” She challenges, and it’s true. Picking a spoonful of yogurt and shoving into her mouth, she watches you for a second. You simply glance back, aware of her expectant stare attempting to pry you to speak up first. You watch her swallow, lips quirking as you refuse to give what she wants. She raises her brows again, this time voicing her question, “Is he…?”

You shake your head at her implication. “No, he’s… A friend.”

“That was a pause.”

“Well, he was my ex before he was my friend.”

“An ex? Is he-” Bella frowns for a bit and you can almost see the wheels inside her head turning. “Holy shit! Is he The Harry?”

Now it’s your turn to form a crease between your brows, confused. You don’t recall ever mentioning Harry to her. “Don’t know what you mean by The Harry, but, yes, he was my first boyfriend.”

“You’ve told me about him before.”

“Have I?” You blink at her. “When?”

She thinks for a second before pointing the spoon in her hand at you.“Yes! It was in one of your Halloween parties- actually, right after it.” She looks over at you, only to find a confused expression still settled on your face. “The one we had a sleepover, and I broke your lamp.”

“That was two years ago, yeah, I remember.” As much as your Halloween parties have a tendency of meshing together in your memory (as they’re mostly the same apart from one or two remarkable occurrences), this one in particular you remember quite well as it was the first time Bella slept over at your house. In the middle of the night, she knocked on your room to ask you if she could sleep with you. Her words were coming mumbled because of the alcohol still affecting her bloodstream. The two of you barely slept a tick that night, as you spent hours whispering stories to each other and, at one point, she got so excited as she was telling you about some sort of vacation she had taken (you don’t remember it that well) that she elbowed your lamp causing it to shatter as it fell. You try to rack your brain to find any recollection of mentioning Harry that day, but all that comes to you is the two of you falling into a fit of giggles when you told her about a past hookup of yours. This only causes your frown to deepen. “The party, I mean. I don’t remember mentioning Harry.”

“You were drunk.” She shoves her spoon inside the yogurt as she speaks. “Was sitting at one of the patio chairs, scrolling down on your Instagram page and you saw a picture of him, think you said it was his sister’s profile? I don’t know. But you were whiny for like an hour because of it.”

“What?” So it was at the party? You have a flash of panic, wondering who else was there to hear you whine over your ex boyfriend. “I have absolutely no recollection of this.”

“It was cute, really.” She tries to comfort you, still focusing on her pot of dairy. “You didn’t say much- you weren’t making a lot of sense, really, but I remember you saying he was the first person you were in love with. Didn’t know he was your first boyfriend.”

You fall back into your seat. “Yeah… That’s him.”

“How long were you together?” Bella glances back at you, brows peaking in curiosity. 

“Almost four years.”

“What?” Her eyes bulge. “How come you never told me that?”

“Don’t know, was a bit of a sensitive topic, I guess.” You know it was. The only reason why you refrained from mentioning him to anyone for a long time was because of the tightness in your chest that followed the sound of his name. “But yeah, we started dating right after his fourteenth birthday.” The memory comes to you as a smile. “His birthday’s in February and he asked me on Valentine’s day, was really cute. I don’t think anyone thought it would last that long at the time.”

“That’s super sweet.” She whines, her shoulders falling as she huffs. “Ugh, I hate love.”

You chuckle. “Same.” 

“So you broke up when you were, what, eighteen?”

“Yup.” 

“Was it because of distance and stuff?”

“Pretty much, yeah.” You think back to the time you two started drifting apart, a thought you haven’t revisited in a long time. “We were already very distant even when we were together.” Shrugging, you try to push back the heaviness in your chest. “Guess we were just meant to go different ways.”

"That's poetic.” She nods. You assume she’s noticed the way your voice has taken a lower tone, as her own grows a pitch, shoving you as she tries to cheer you up. “But now you’re together again!”

Breathing out a laugh, you roll your eyes slightly. “We’re friends.”

“Right.” She doesn’t sound convinced. “But, you know, you went each your own way and somehow crossed paths again. Do you know what that’s called?”

You close your eyes, already familiar with your friend’s antics. “Bella…”

“Fate.”

“Oh my god.” You shake your head at her, hoping she doesn’t notice the blush that creeps up your neck.

“I’m just saying, if I were you, I wouldn’t let this opportunity escape.” She bites down her empty spoon to hide the smirk that grows on her lips. The way her brows wiggle before she says anything allows you to prepare for what's to come. “I mean, with all due respect, he is very fine.”

“I knew it was coming.” You pucker your lips to avert from smiling, trying to seem casual before confessing, “But yes, he looks really good.”

“The long hair? The tattoos? Girl!” Her eyes widen. “If he wasn’t your ex, I would’ve been saying some really inappropriate stuff right now.”

You groan, hiding your face behind your hands. “Please, don’t.”

“I said ‘would’!” She emphasizes the word as she tries to pull your hands away from covering your eyes. “I’m only thinking about it, relax.”

Rolling your eyes again, you nod towards her half-empty pot. “Eat your yogurt.”

//

The air inside the flat somehow is warmer than the outdoors. The large windows opposite the kitchen are wide open to have some sort of breeze flowing around to relieve the heat coming from the stove. A generic scent of fried dough dances around the small space with it. It’s one that Harry recognizes from past times that Julia’s made the dish, and it makes his mouth water as soon as he steps inside.

Julia’s at her spot in the kitchen taking care of the food, her back turned to him as she bumps her hips along with the beat of a song he doesn’t recognize. Next to her, Harry recognizes Mitch’s back reaching for the small pile of plates inside the cabinet with Blake standing right behind (he assumes because she’d asked for his help with the task, considering she usually has a hard time reaching the last shelves). 

Their voices mesh together as they seem too lost in their conversation to notice Harry’s arrival. Right as the door clicks closed, however, Blake takes the plates from Mitch’s hands, turning to catch Harry right as he toes-off his shoes.

“Look who’s decided to show up!” She speaks up, calling the attention of both friends that still stood oblivious of the boy that now sports a guilty smile. Blake raises her brows at him, setting the plates on top of the island counter. “For what do we owe this honor?”

“Finally!” Julia barges before Harry can even start with the apology he went over in his head during the entire tube ride. “I was completely outnumbered in this discussion. Tell them that our plates are nice!”

He stops right by the edge of the kitchen tiles, furrowing his brows at his friends’ request. “What?”

Harry tries to search for an explanation from Mitch, who simply leans back onto the counter with his arms crossed, and an amused smirk painting his lips as he nods towards Julia.

The girl has turned back to the stove, a colander spoon in her hand moving the pastries around inside the pan filled with oil. She huffs before she explains, eyes trained on the stove, “They’re being incredibly rude, calling our plates tacky!”

Without even looking at the plates in question, Harry chuckles. “Oh, is it the floral ones?”

He confirms his assumptions when glancing at the dishes set on top of the island counter. The collection was sent by her parents around the new years after her visit for the holidays — she’d told them about how they cracked most their dishes at the edges and they sent in a full set as a replacement. And, as much as both of them found the action heartwarming ly thoughtful, they both had a good laugh upon opening the box when it first came in. 

Because they were, after all, a bit tacky. 

Each has its edges painted with a different color, with matching roses circling around it. To make matters worse, the center of them have each a different phrase. Harry couldn’t make sense to them at first, as they’re written in Portuguese, but from what Julia’s translated it doesn’t go far from those catchphrases you can find at the Live, Laugh, Love side of Pinterest.

That’s something Julia very openly makes fun of her parents about; what she says is their lack of taste for just about everything. And Harry was very aware of the fact, not only by the way she teases them to no end about it but also by her choices of presents to send back home (for instance, that god awful umbrella -- may it rest in pieces). With their time together as flatmates, it’s almost become somewhat of an inside joke between the two of them. 

But, as much as both of them have taken the piss about it before, they still have a fondness heavily attached to them. So it’s understandable Julia’s annoyance at their friends’ tease, especially when both bark into laughs at Harry’s question.

“You’re not helping!” Julia throws him a look from over her shoulder.

“I’m sorry, I just wanted to confirm!” Harry raises his hands in surrender as he watches the girl roll her eyes before focusing back on the pan in front of her. He pulls one stool next to the one Blake’s taken for herself, sitting on it before glancing down at the dish in front of him. He spins it slightly with the tip of his finger, watching the yellow roses move with it. “But Jul’s right, stop attacking our plates.”

“I wasn’t attacking them, if I have any right to a replica.” Mitch moves from his spot to take the stool in front of Harry. “If I recall correctly, I even said they were very charming.”

“Your sarcasm doesn’t impress me, Rowland,” Julia replies from her spot, not looking back. “Just say they're ugly already! Since you guys hate them so much!”

Blake shoots Harry a knowing look, a smile poking at her lips from being too used to her girlfriend’s dramatics. She pushes her stool back, standing before she walks over towards the grumpy girl who’s now focusing on taking out the pastries and laying them on a trail that’s covered with napkins. Embracing her from behind, she presses a kiss between Julia’s shoulder blades before whispering something just for her to hear.

Harry watches them for a second, not helping the part of him that wishes he could have someone like they do. It verges a tragedy, he thinks, to be a hopeless romantic and not be in love.

"Food is ready!" Julia speaks up, her voice this time taking a higher pitch. Harry doesn’t miss the look the couple exchanges before finding their seats across from each other.

Julia sets the trail in the center. The pastries take a half-circle shape and are organized neatly in two rolls, their golden crust looking very appealing, making Harry realize how hungry he actually is.

“So, explain to me,” Mitch begins, nodding towards the dish. “What are those guys?”

“These, my dear, are called pastel- you know, like the color shade,” Julia explains, picking up one of them. “They’re basically, like, a pastry. You can stuff them with anything you want, really. I made the most common ones which are cheese- the ones on this roll- and meat.” She points to the rolls showing where each one line. “We usually have them as, like, a snack, but I was really missing them so I made it for dinner. And we also eat it with sugarcane juice, but y’all don’t have it here,” She shakes her head. “Tasteless.”

“Sugarcane juice?” Mitch raises his brows.

Julia goes into one of her rants that Harry’s heard about a hundred times before by now — the ones that come up every time she talks about her country, which he finds rather cute how passionate she gets when talking about her culture. His head shuts off for a bit, though, already knowing the information by heart, as he focuses on his groaning stomach. 

For a moment, they just eat while having more of a casual chat. Julia rambles for a good portion of it about her life back home, and, soon enough, they all share their own experiences that make them miss their hometowns. It makes for a nice bonding experience, four people from different spots in the world that found themselves in London at the same time. All sharing a meal as they recall the parts of them they left behind when they choose to leave. For a moment, Harry forgets all about the apology he’d rehearsed on the way back from your house. 

It doesn’t even slip into his mind how he escaped any sort of immediate interrogation about his whereabouts. He’s even naïve enough to think that maybe Julia’s even forgotten about it as well, thanks to the plates’ discussion. 

Harry soon finds himself to be wrong, though. And the worst of it all, it catches him completely off guard.

The group has just quietened down from a story Mitch’s told from back in the days he used to work in a pizza place. Blake’s just offered to clean up the dishes, standing from her stool as she collects the plates. Harry hands her his, glancing at her as he mutters a quick ‘thank you’. He doesn’t notice the way Julia stares at him, eyes narrowed and lips puckering, as she leans into the counter. It only calls his attention once she speaks up, her words coming out slow but almost calculated, as if she’s been thinking about voicing them for a while, “So, H, are you gonna tell us what’s up?”

He doesn’t realize what she’s referring to at first, only furrowing his brows in his confusion. “Huh?”

“Don’t ‘huh’ me, Styles, you’re hiding something.” She points at him and that’s when he realizes, breath hitching on his throat. “And I think that something’s actually a someone, so spill.”

He hears Blake chuckling from her spot at the sink. “Guess we’re going straight to the point, then.”

Harry tries to even his breath, holding back the urge to bite down at his bottom lip as not to show he’s nervous. “What makes you think that?”

Julia grins as if she’s been waiting for him to ask that. “Well, should we go over the list? You suddenly have a life outside, barely stay at home, you’re almost always late to hang out— and that’s coming from me, a Brazilian- oh! You’ve also been baking?” She puts out a finger at each topic on the list, emphasizing the last word as if it’s the most absurd concept to grasp. “And I caught you taking a selfie the other night, which would be odd on itself if I wasn’t sure that you sent it to someone right after.”

Harry nods slowly. “Okay. You kept a list.”

“So?”

“I-” He feels himself panicking, not knowing how to explain himself. On one hand, he hates lying, especially to people he loves. He also knows how upset Julia gets when people lie to her, considering honesty is one attribute she values the most in a person. So the prospect of not only going against one of his own principles but also letting down one of his closest friends, almost makes him sick. But he gave you his word that he would not tell anyone until you were ready to do so. And he wants to keep his word and respect your wishes, knowing that if he doesn’t, it could mean losing everything he’s gotten back these past months. It could mean losing you. So for a moment, he stays there, lips parted but not saying anything. There’s gotta be some sort of middle ground.  “There’s… Someone, and-”

A loud thud comes as Blake drops one plate inside the sink, turning around with wide eyes and soapy hands. “What?”

“I knew it!” Julia slaps her hand on the counter as she exclaims, her mouth dropping in the shape of an ‘O’. “I knew it! How do you get a girlfriend without mentioning it to me? I thought we were friends?”

“I don’t have a girlfriend.” Harry blurts out.

“How could you keep this from us?” Blake comes to stand behind her girlfriend, her face still wide in shock before she turns to Mitch. “Did you know about this?”

“I did not have any involvement in this, no.”

Julia continues her inquiry, “Who is it?”

“Jul-”

She interrupts Harry before he can properly form a word, “Is it that girl from work? The one that had a crush on you? What’s her name again-”

“Julia, please.”

“Alice!” She snaps her finger, her grin widening as she looks at him as if she just solved an enigma. “It's her, isn’t it? Did you finally make a move? Oh my god.”

“I- It’s-” Harry’s fully panicking now, eyes moving quickly between his friends as they stare at him, waiting for a confirmation. Is this the middle ground he wanted? No, he thinks to himself. This will only make things worse. He should just say he wants to keep it private for now. It would annoy them, sure, but they’d have to understand, right? It’s the rational thing to do. But Harry’s not working with rationality at the moment, and his mouth works before his brain does, “Y-yeah, it’s her.”

Blake gasps. “Harry!”

“I can’t believe you!” 

He needs to fix this. “We’re not dating.” 

“Yet.” She points before squealing, reaching a hand over her shoulder to hold Blake’s wet ones while placing her other over her heart. “Look at you! They grow so fast…”

“Please, don’t.”

“Babe, let him breathe for a bit.” Blake breaks her hand from her girlfriend’s grasp, reaching for a napkin and using it to dry her hands. She smiles at him, “I would like to see a picture of her, though.”

Before he has the chance to answer, Julia’s already talking, “You should’ve invited her to come today! There’s enough food-”

“No, it’s… Uh, it’s not like that.” Harry tries to come up with something to explain himself as not to dig a deeper hole than he already has put himself in.

Blake frowns. “What do you mean?”

“Just-” He pauses, glancing between his friends. They all show different stages of confusion. “We’re taking things slow.”

Julia rolls her eyes, “Harry, you’re already the slowest person I know.” She states as a matter-of-fact, shaking her head at him. “With your pace, we’re getting this relationship announcement in five years.”

He huffs, the insistence annoying him a bit. Maybe it’s because he knows the more they keep this subject, the deeper the hole he can get himself in. So he simply avoids feeding more into it, choosing to ask her instead,  “Why are you so obsessed with the idea of me in a relationship?” His eyes meet Blake’s in a silent plea for an intervention.

“Because I want to have cute double dates!” Julia whines.

Mitch deadpans, “What’s this, then?”

“Okay! We have desert!” Blake seems to find her cue to barge in, clapping her hands together before continuing, “And it’s made of chocolate!”

Harry smiles at her, shooting her a look of gratitude. “Chocolate sounds perfect.”

“Sounds marvelous,” Mitch adds.

Julia, however, is not dumb. She narrows her eyes slightly. “You guys are changing the subject.”

Her girlfriend barely bats an eye at her statement, though, only squeezing her shoulder gently, “Babe, why don’t you tell Mitch about brigadeiro? I’m sure he’ll love to hear it.”

The girl sighs, shooting Harry another knowing look before giving up on the subject for the time being. He only gives her a small smile, watching as she begins to tell Mitch all about desert. 

Well, he really dug himself a hole with this one.

//

Harry loves Sundays.

This is funny enough of a statement, considering how he used to despise it when he was younger. Back when he knew it meant that he’d have to be up early the next day to walk the cracked sidewalk leading to his school, fighting to keep his eyelids halfway open. The entire day would feel like a countdown (just eight more hours until the weekend’s over!). The only thing that made the day the slightest bit enjoyable was that he used to visit his nan every Sunday right after breakfast. He still remembers how he and his cousins would sit in front of the telly with their toys scattered around them, the entire house adorned with the scent of vanilla.

He’s not sure exactly when the switch of opinion for the day happened, but he knows that you’re one of the main reasons for it. Sunday’s were your days. They were the only days in which you were sure to be free from babysitting duties with your sister, hence why there was a silent agreement that settled between both of you to spend it together. So you reserved Sundays for the two of you. And Harry’s sure some of his fondest memories with you happened on a Sunday.

So it was hard not to love the day when it brought you to him every time.

Although years have passed, his attachment to the day hasn’t faded. Especially now, when you seem to fit back into his Sundays just as perfectly as you used to. 

The cafe smells just like his nan’s house used to when he first walks in - the only major difference being the scent of coffee that meshes with the vanilla in the air. It’s the third time he comes with you here and, just like the previous ones, there’s a surprisingly low movement for it being mid-morning. Most of the customers that frequent it, as you’d informed him the first time you took him there, are elders. There’s a couple right at the door enjoying the cloudless day at the chess table that’s carefully prompted just outside the cafe that bids good morning as the younger pair passes by, not paying much attention to them. Meanwhile, inside, the other four or five customers that sit scattered around the armchairs barely bat an eye towards them as they walk in, focusing only on their newspapers or crossword magazines that sit in front of them as they quietly sip on their drinks.

Despite you not sharing loads with him regarding your public image, from what he could gather, it’s clear how much you value your privacy. So it’s easy to understand why you enjoy coming here, as your presence comes and goes as just another one. 

And he quite enjoys it too, especially noticing how carefree you get in a space you’re comfortable with. Usually, on other few occasions, the two of you go out to public spaces that you’re not as used to, it’s clear how alert you are, even if you’re enjoying yourself. You limit yourself to plain clothes to not call any attention, always with what’s become your signature big sunglasses shielding part of your face -- you even wore them when you went to the cinema to which, although Harry understood the reason for, he didn’t refrain from teasing you about it. 

But today, you abandoned the hoodies and large shirts in various shades of grey. Harry knows the riskiest part of your day in being recognized would be the short walk from his building to the cafe. Still, that thankfully didn’t stop you from going back to your usual wardrobe. Instead, you’re wearing a white dress with red stripes lining along your curves, the skirt flowing all the way down your calves, showing the white sneakers covering your feet. The sunglasses are still present, of course, but you quickly push them up as soon as you walk inside.

Harry watches for a second as your eyes scan the menu written on the wall behind the counter, chuckling to himself as he knows you’re still going for the same order as usual. Before you can step closer to voice your order, however, he says, “Go find a table, I’ll get your order.”  You glance up at Harry, brows shooting up, challenging. “Medium iced coffee and a chocolate muffin.” He grins proudly as he recites your order. “Anything else?”

“No, that's it.” You bite back a smile. “You’re not paying for me, though.”

Of course, you’re insisting, he thinks, already shaking his head. “You paid last time and the time before that and, if I recall correctly, you didn’t let me have a say in it when I tried to intervene in either of them.” Harry pokes your side, nodding towards the table area. “So, go get a table. I’ll be right there.”

Narrowing your eyes at him, you stay silent for a beat, clearly debating whether to keep insisting. “Fair enough.” You sigh, walking backward as you point at him. “But I’m paying next time.”

Chuckling, he keeps his eyes on you for a tick longer to catch where you’ve sat, his face warming the slightest bit once you throw him a wink as you settle back in the chair. Once he places the orders for the both of you, he notices some drawings stuck to the wall behind the counter as he waits for them to be done with. They all have a clear childlike trace to them, some more than others, and Harry assumes the more abstract one must’ve been done by a younger child. He smiles to himself, finding it an adorable addition to the place, even if it could easily go unnoticed by an inattentive eye.

“They’re from my granddaughter.” The barista smiles at Harry as he places two cups on top of the counter, nodding back towards the artwork that caught his attention. “Just turned eight. Loves drawing.”

“They look lovely.” 

“This one, actually,” The barista points to one that seems to be more recent, as it’s stuck on top of the others. It shows what looks like two girls holding hands; a smaller one holding a heart on her free hand, and a taller one with a star on top of her head. The man nods to a spot over Harry’s shoulder, “It’s her and your friend, she’s a big fan.”

“Really?” Harry’s lips part in surprise. “That’s very sweet.”

“It’s how I found out she was known.” The man lets out a low laugh, opening the display to reach for a muffin. “Millie was proper mad that I didn’t know who she was when she came to visit, but your friend was a sweet thing, signed her shirt and everything.”

Harry smiles at the story. “Sounds like her.”

“Sure does, seems like a lovely lady.” The man’s attention gets called as the front door opens with a ding. He shoots Harry one last smile, “Duty calls. Enjoy your coffee.”

Harry reaches for the cups with one hand, picking up your pastry with the other. “You too, have a good one.” He feels the words slip before he can register them and, as he realizes his mistake, he quickly turns to head for the table, eyes wide and a blush tainting his cheeks.

You lock your phone, setting it down as soon as Harry approaches the table. He sees a grin twitching on your lips as you glance up at him and he avoids your gaze, knowing it’ll only worsen the warmth on his face.

“What’s got you all flustered?” You ask, your voice verging a laugh.

“Stop.” He scratches his nose in a nervous tick. “Just told that man to enjoy his coffee.”

“Oh, no.” You burst into a fit of giggles and he peeks up at you, holding back a laugh himself as he shakes his head — he loves making you laugh. “C’mon, H, everyone does that. I’m sure he didn’t even notice.”

“Still embarrassing.”

“Just a bit.” Biting down at your bottom lip, you squint your eyes, pushing the muffin towards him. “Here, have a bite, you’ll forget all your problems.”

He breathes out another laugh, reaching to pick a piece of the sweet before shoving it into his mouth. Soon enough, his embarrassment gets lost in conversation, the rosy tone on his cheeks no longer making themselves present from shame but from laughing too hard from something you say. You two get lost in your little bubble for a good while, taking your time sipping on your drinks. Every so often, Harry steals a bite from your muffin — at first, he does it just to have a piece, but once he gets a reaction out of you, eyes narrowing at him adorably as you scrunch your nose in feign anger, he does it just to watch you.

There’s no better way of learning about you than watching, he’s found. One of the biggest changes that he noticed upon getting close to you again, is how you seem to have closed up in a way. And it’s difficult to catch on. He figures that someone who didn’t know you years ago probably doesn’t even realize how much of yourself you keep bottled up. You’re a rambler, that much is easy to pick up. But Harry’s realized that as much as that part of you remains intact, your chatters become much more superficial. You talk about specific events and memories but always narrate it as if you were a mere expectant. You rarely go into detail about your personal life all that much.

Apart from the day you were drunk on his bathtub, he’s barely got a glimpse of feelings regarding him. 

So, he resorts to picking up those bits and pieces you let escape without realizing. He enjoys noticing you (and he’s aware that’s a bit creepy of him, but he can’t help it). How you mention you light a candle before going to sleep cause it helps calm you down. How you refer to your friends with the fondest smile picking up on your lips (but also how you let slip out you only have a person or two that are close to you because getting to know new people makes you anxious). How you always smile at dogs whenever you are — sometimes you even wave at them. How you have the habit of circling your drink in your hand when you’re comfortable, much like you’re doing right now.

The last one always warms his chest. He’s realized you only do it when you let your guard down, allowing yourself to get lost in your world without having to be alert all the time. For all you know, the world outside this small table could’ve stopped spinning and neither of you would notice.

Maybe it’s why you don’t pay any mind to the two teenage girls that enter the cafe. Not until both of them stand right next to the table.

It’s the call of your name that snaps you out of your head. The girls barely blink as they stare down at you, their mouths agape in shock as they hold each other’s hands. “Is it you?”

Harry thinks there’s a flash of panic in your eyes, but it’s gone as soon as it comes. You smile as you stand, and he doesn’t fail to notice the way you turn your body slightly to shield him. “Last time I checked, that would be me, yes!” You chuckle. “What are your names?”

“I’m Lauren.” The taller one speaks up, her hand clutching her phone so tightly her knuckles are almost white. She looks down at the other one who simply stands there, wide eyes not leaving your figure for even a second. Once the other says nothing else, Lauren answers the question for her. “And she’s Georgia. She’s a bit nervous cause she’s a big fan.”

“That’s very sweet, thank you so much.” You tilt your head a bit. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“You too,” Georgia says, her voice trembling and the hold on her friend’s hand. “Uhm, do- could we- if it’s not too much of a bother, could we get a picture with you?”

“Uhm, I don’t think it’s the best time right now, I’m sorry, loves.” Your voice is soft as you talk to them, but it quickly takes a more joyous tone as you suggest, “But I’d love to sign something for you if you’d like?”

“Yeah, if you can! If not, it’s okay, really.” Georgia nods, the words all but stumble out of her mouth. “Sorry for bothering you.”

“It’s no problem at all! It’s a pleasure to get to meet both of you.” 

Harry tries to watch discreetly as not to call any attention to himself, recalling what you once said about not wanting headlines of the two of you. So he only peeks up when you turn to fetch a pen from inside your bag, meeting your eyes for a second before you turn your attention back to the young fans. You chat with them for a little as you sign their phone cases, and he can’t help the tug in his heart at seeing you being so attentive to them.

“There we go.” You say as you hand Lauren her phone.

“Thank you so much!” Georgia exclaims, and even from his spot, Harry can make out a glossiness in her eyes. You pull her into a hug. “You’re really, like, one of my favorite people.”

“I’m honored.” You giggle as you back away, giving her friend a hug as well. Softening your voice once again, you keep a gentle hold to the girl’s shoulder, “Just one more thing, I’m sorry to have to ask you that but, would you mind not posting about this location?”

“Of course!” They say in unison, and Georgia is quick to add, “I wasn’t planning to!”

“Thank you for understanding.” You nod with a smile. “It was really lovely meeting the two of you! Hope we get to see each other again. Enjoy your day.”

The girls bid their goodbyes to you, and you give them one last wave before retaking your seat. Harry observes how you keep an eye on them for a beat longer before meeting his gaze, an apologetic expression adorning your face.

“That was sweet.” 

You sigh, “That was unexpected.”

“Thought that kinda thing happened a lot.”

“It does, just-” You pause, frowning your lips slightly. “Never happened in here.”

You tap your fingers against the wood of the table in a nervous tick, bringing your other hand to your mouth as you bite down on the nail of your thumb. It’s clear how alarmed you’ve gotten now that the girls are gone, eyes scanning every bit of the room. Looking anywhere but to Harry’s own worried ones. He doesn’t need to be able to read minds to know that yours is probably rushing right now from a simple glance at your face.

He reaches for your hand on top of the table to call your attention. Once you snap your gaze back on his, you let your shoulders relax a bit. He gives your hand a gentle squeeze, “Are you alright?”

“Yeah! It’s just…” You try to brush his worry off, glancing back at the entrance before sighing again. “Do you think we could take this back to your place? Is Julia there?”

He shakes his head to your last question, “Of course, it’s not that far, anyway.”

“Thank you.” Your expression softens as you move to gather your belongings hanging from the back of your seat. “I’m sorry, I always do this.” Your shoulders fall, the edge of your lips frowning down.

“Hey, how many times do I have to tell you?” He bumps his arm against yours as both of you stand to get you to relax. “You don’t have to apologize, I understand.”

“I appreciate it.” You nod, but the crease between your brows doesn’t ease. “I just want to avoid a possible mob in case they end up posting about the location.” 

Harry tries to ignore the way his heart drops at your words. He wonders how many times you’ve been caught in a situation like this that ended up badly. “I get it.” 

The way back to his building is much different than when you were coming to the cafe a few hours ago. It’s noticeable that you’re tense as soon as you step outside, the sunglasses earning a permanent spot on your face for the time being. Even with your eyes covered, however, Harry still notices how you take in your surroundings almost cautiously. He tries to bump his hips against yours every time you do it, trying to distract you from your worries. It helps, as you shoot him a smile every time, bumping your hips back.

Screams from a nearby park call both your attention as you get closer to his building. As the day approaches the late hours of the morning, people have decided to enjoy the rare dose of sunlight that gave a break to the frequent rainfalls that cloud the city. On the other side of the road, children run around in a playground as their parents watch them from near benches. A few runners make their laps on the sidewalk lining the edge of the block as well as dog-walkers that take more of a stride sort of walk.

“Such a nice day.” You say, glancing down at the floor ahead to allow your hair to cover a bit more of your face. “It’s a shame we have to go back inside.” 

It breaks his heart to hear the way your voice takes a lower tone. He tries to meet your eyes, “Can tell you’re beating yourself up about things out of your control.” Harry pitches your arm, his next words coming out in a playful warning, stretching the word as to get you to smile.  “Stop it.”

“I can’t help it.” You let out a humorless laugh, coming to a stop at a corner to wait for a red light so you can cross. He looks down at you, but you keep your gaze trained ahead. “It is kind of my fault, you know?”

Harry frowns. “Except it’s not.”

“Thank you for trying to make me feel better about it.” You give him a small smile, shaking your head. “But in a way, it is. I know it is. And I don’t mean to complain about it or anything! Cause I’m aware of how privileged I am to get to live my dream and all that… It just-” You shrug. “It’s not always a field of flowers, I guess.”

“You’re allowed to not love every second of it, doesn’t make you ungrateful.” He argues, his hand meeting your shoulder as he gently turns you to face him. “Especially when it comes to all this privacy stuff, you deserve to have your space.”

“I know that but...Well, I signed up for it, you know? I knew my life would never be just mine once I started getting big.” You adjust the glasses on your face. Harry’s close enough that, if he focuses, he can see your eyes under the dark lenses. “And in a way, I’m used to it now, I’ve learned how to live with it.” You sigh, frowning at your lips. “What makes me uneasy when stuff like this happens- what makes me want to keep a low profile when we’re out, it’s not to protect me. It’s to protect you.”

Him? “Me?”

“Yeah…” Your voice is small, almost shy as the confession leaves your lips. Clearing your throat, you avert your eyes down as you quick some loose pieces of concrete from the sidewalk. “It’s the same with my parents or to Lyla or anyone that doesn’t have a life like mine.” You explain in a rush, trying to cover the timidity that warms your cheeks. But when you continue, it’s still clear in your tone, as the words come from your lips in almost a shame, “You don’t deserve to be exposed to all of it just because you’re part of my life. It’s not fair to you.”

It takes Harry a second to let it sink in. To understand the whole reason behind your uneasiness when going out. Why you’re so adamant about keeping your ties to him a secret. Why you try to separate him from your public side.

All this time. You’re doing it to protect him.

There’s no denial of how the confession brings a tightness to his chest. He knows it’s not what you mean to do. But he can’t help it when you sound as if you could be a burden in his life — when, in reality, it couldn’t be the furthest away from the truth. So his shoulders lump as he watches you keep your gaze away from his again, lips frowning down as he uses every ounce of self-control within himself to not pull you to him.

Instead, he ducks his head, trying to find your eyes under the lenses of your glasses. When he speaks up, his words are soft, to embrace you in a way he can’t physically, “Is this why you get so stressed about going out in public? Why you asked me to not tell anyone?” You look up at him at the question and he adds, “To protect me?”

“Of course.” You reply as if it was obvious all along. “W- Did you think it was… Something else?”

“I-I don’t know.” From his peripheral vision, he can see cars coming to a halt as the streetlight turns red, but neither of you makes a move to keep walking. The world around doesn’t matter right now. “I think I just assumed you didn’t want the media assuming…” He motions vaguely with his hand. “Anything.”

“Well, yes, to protect you from that.”

“You-” He shakes his head incredulously. There’s no denial of the bouquet of butterflies that bloom on his stomach at the prospect of you wanting to protect him. At how you say it as if it’s obvious that you’d do it in the first place. Almost treating it as if it’s your duty to do so. But he also can’t help but feel the slightest bit of guilt from it, knowing how this is the main reason that gets you anxious when you’re together. His hand reaches for your shoulder again, caressing it in silent gratitude as his expression softens, “You don’t have to do that, to stress yourself because of me. Do you know that?” 

“But I do.” You’re quick to argue. “You don’t know what it’s like, H. People are brutal. I won’t have them pestering you. I won’t have that.” There’s a clear quiver in your voice at the last few words, and Harry has to fight back the lump on his own throat at the sound of it.

“Love-”

You push up your sunglasses so you can fully glance up at him, “I’m serious.” Your eyes are set, stern, as you lock them on his. But they’re also getting glossy at the edges. “I won’t let them get to you too.” You whisper.

“It’s not your duty, love.” Harry insists, hating how you’re clearly beating yourself up for it. “I can take care of myself in case anything happens.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” The smile that tugs on your lips is weak, and you shake your head. “If you knew what it would be like...” You trail off.

“Is this why you don’t have any friends with- uh, a regular life?” Harry cringes at himself but doesn’t know how else to word this without making you feel abnormal.

You nod. “Pretty much, yeah.” 

“I understand where you’re coming from.” He says, eyes trained on yours as he wants you to take in every word that he speaks. “I do, but you maybe you shouldn’t allow those people to dictate your happiness.”

You give him a sad smile that twists his heartstrings. ���That’s not what it is.”

“It’s what it seems like.” He argues, desperate to get you to understand where he’s coming from. 

The more he takes in the way your eyes water and your lips twist, shoulders falling almost in defeat — as if you’ve accepted the responsibility that you’ve weighed upon yourself — the more he has to hold back his own emotions. It’s clear the toll that this position takes on you; you’ve told him about it before. You’ve told him how you barely have anyone that you consider close — those in the industry being too worried about building their own careers on top of each other’s backs for you to be comfortable sharing any meaningful exchange (apart from very few exceptions). And now he knows why you don’t find these ties with people that have a life outside the spotlight.

 “Doesn’t it get lonely?” He questions out loud.

“All the time.” You let out a humorless laugh. “People don’t realize how lonely it can be to have a career like this.” It comes as a vent and you take a deep breath, your hand quickly coming up to wipe the sides of your eyes though there’s yet a tear to fall. “Like, yes, you have this big team with you, and everyone fawns over you everywhere you go, but-” You pause, exhaling. “After the shows, and the lights, and all that...In the end, when you go to bed, it’s just you and your pillow.”

Harry doesn’t stop himself now, taking the step to close the gap between the two of you, arms circling around you as he pulls you to him. “I hate that you have to feel like this.” He mutters into your hair, feeling you melt into him. Angling his head a bit so his voice doesn’t get muffled, he whispers, “From now on, you have me, yeah? If you ever need anything- anything, I’m just a call away.” 

You hug him tighter at the assurance, your own words coming in a breath that could have easily been missed if they weren’t spoken so close to his skin. “Thank you.”

//

“You should probably get that.”

Jack, your producer, nods towards your phone as it begins to vibrate on top of the wooden table again. You sigh from your spot on the couch, cursing silently whoever’s been blowing up your phone for the past ten minutes. Mondays in the studio are already hard enough to concentrate as it is - especially as you and Jack have been trying to get the guitar riff just right for the past hour - so to add your buzzing device to the mix feels like a cherry on top to your stress cake.

You shoot him an apologetic look as you reach for it. You wanted to wait until you were done to pay attention to whatever’s been going off so as to not lose your focus, but it seems like whoever’s been trying to reach out has been very adamant about your attention.

So you step outside, letting your eyes fall closed for a second as the outdoor breeze relaxes your senses a little. Jack’s balcony right outside his home studio is quite small and doesn’t stand very tall from the second floor, but you love how you can still have a view of a park close enough that the sunset in the back paints the full leaves of the trees gold. After a moment of peace, you sigh as you’re reminded of your duties once the phone in your hand vibrates once again.

Your brows all but meet as you take in the notifications on your screen. There are two missed calls from Sonia, and a couple of messages, not only from her but from your publicist as well. Opening up the chat, your tired eyes just give a quick scan over the words before falling on a link attached to them. Just before you click on it, you can feel your heart sink as you realize it’s a The Sun article.

“No, no, no, no, no.” You mutter to yourself as you wait for the page to load. When it does, you can feel every ounce you get cold as your dread shows itself to be true. What calls your attention first are the pictures, ones taken yesterday as you recognize your white and red striped dress. And you recognize the look of adoration in a click, perfectly timed when you took off your sunglasses. And worst of all, you recognize Harry, holding you close at the corner just before his building.

When you finally remind yourself to read the headline, you’re not sure how you don’t drop your phone all the way down at the words that stare back at you.

NEW ROMANCE? This year’s favorite breakthrough artist is spotted on a coffee date in London with a mysterious brunette!

//

AAAH It’s finally here!! I’m so sorry for taking so long with this one but I got very busy very suddenly at the end of the year but I promise next one will be here sooon!! As usual, if you enjoyed it please reblog and leave some feedback, I’m very excited to hear what’s everyone’s thoughts!! 

[plsimsuchasimp]

being followed

ft: Oikawa x fem!reader

warnings: being followed, sexual harassment, catcalling, cursing, fear

genre: fear to fluff

wc: 1800+

side note: you’re aobajohsai’s manager

You hurried along the sidewalk after school, hugging your book bag to your chest as your knuckles whitened slightly. You were still twenty minutes away from home, and the three guys that were following you were getting closer.

Trying not to panic, you pulled out your phone, scrolling down the list of contacts. You couldn't call your parents- you knew they were both working right now, and they were both too far to come pick you up anyways. None of your friends saw your texts, and you were forced to turn to the volleyball team you managed, Aobajohsai's male team. You had their numbers, of course- when you were watching recorded tapes, you'd often call them to discuss their skills and actions in the match. 

You were tempted to call Iwaizumi, knowing that he would come pick you up without a moment's hesitation, but he lived across town and probably wouldn't get there in time. There. Oikawa Tooru, the captain of the team and their cocky, handsome setter. You sighed, not wanting to call him of all people, but you had no choice. He was the closest. 

As you forced yourself to keep looking straight forward, attempting to ignore the approaching footsteps and raucous voices of the men behind you who had been following you for the last five blocks, you began to shake. This was the worst thing that could happen right now, when you were already on the verge of an anxiety attack. Your eyes were blurring with tears, hands shaking so violently that it was difficult to see the screen of your mobile phone. Struggling to maintain steady breathing, you tapped on the icon next to his name in your phone, waiting for him to pick up as the phone's dial tone played.

***Oikawa's POV***

When he slumped onto his bed, opening his laptop to start on late schoolwork, he was distracted by his phone buzzing beside him. Looking over, he was startled to find your name on the screen, two buttons telling him to accept or decline the call. You rarely called him, despite the obvious crush he had on you (although you were too oblivious to see it, and he was too oblivious to notice that you might, just maybe, feel the same way), and he eagerly accepted the call.

"Hey, (y/n)-chan, how's it going?"

"Oikawa, I wouldn't normally call you on this, but I need you to come pick me up." Your breathing was clearly faster than normal, signifying there was something off. 

On the other end of the phone, you were speeding up your pace, trying to hold back the sniffles that threatened to reveal themselves. "Um, I'll explain why when you get here. I'm at the corner of (street name) and (street name.)"

"How soon can you get here?"

He was already heading down the stairs, slipping on his shoes and grabbing his car keys before starting the engine and beginning to drive to where you were. "I'll be there in three minutes. Is that okay?"

"Y-yeah." He heard muffled voices coming from your end of the phone as well as some noise as it slipped out of your hand, landing in the grass by the sidewalk. Unknown by him, the chase was about to come to an ultimatum.

***(Y/n's POV)***"

Hey girl!" called a voice from behind you, followed by laughter and remarks about your body. You tried to keep walking, tuning out their voices as the pattern of your feet became rougher. Your stomach was clenching harder now, breathing coming in short, unsteady gasps, barely hearing what Oikawa was saying on the other end of the phone. "I'll be there in three minutes. Is that okay?"

"Y-yeah," you muttered. 

"Hey, I'm talking to you!" yelled the voice, a bit louder and more aggressive this time. Your phone fell from your grasp, landing in the grass, and you slowly turned around to face the group. They were all tall- they towered above you, malicious grins on their faces as they walked closer. "Turn around so we can see that ass!" You stood your ground, staring defiantly back at them, even though you were shaking so hard you could barely stay upright. 

"Leave me alone," your voice rang out, catching them surprised by the tone of it.

"Ooh, girl's got some spice to her, eh boys?" the middle one smirked, clearly enjoying your discomfort. He moved to put a hand on your waist and you flinched, moving backwards only to realize that another man was already behind you. Shit. Hoping against hope that Oikawa would arrive soon, you hugged your sides and looked at the floor, hoping that they'd leave you alone if you acted helpless. You didn't want to fight against three of them at once. Of course, you knew they would continue harassing you, but you were trying to buy time.One of them put a hand on your back, causing you to immediately shrink away. "I said leave me alone." 

"What are you going to do about it anyways?" taunted the third boy, reveling in the power of harassing an innocent girl. Just as he was reaching for you and you prepared to punch him in the face, you heard a car door slam, startling all of you. 

"Hey!" said the voice of Oikawa Tooru, something which you'd never been so happy to hear in your life, "Leave her alone or I'll break your arms." Clearly they weren't impressed, looking him up and down before judging he wasn't a threat. They just started chuckling, backing away from you with their hands raised mockingly to reveal tears streaming down your face and you hunched in the middle. 

"Protecting your girlfriend now are you, pretty boy?" The tallest one glanced at you, still smirking, and said, "A girl like you deserves better than this loser. Spend the night with me sometime," eliciting wolf whistles and laughs from his friends. After this, they retreated down the block, sneaking glances back at you a couple of times. 

Oikawa was standing there, murder in his gaze as he glared after them. You picked up your phone and bag, gathering the books that had spilled in the conflict. Oikawa tried to help, but you were already done by the time he came over to you.

"Shit, (y/n), are you okay?" 

In response, you just sniffled and went over to the passenger side of the car, opening the door and getting in. He followed your lead, getting into the driver's seat. He noticed you shaking, trying and failing to wipe the tear marks from your cheeks as you sat hugging your book bag in the seat. He'd never seen this side of you before- you were always the confident girl who could stand up for yourself. He had never seen you act like this before, which told him that something was really wrong. 

Oikawa drove in silence until you reached his house, where he unlocked the door and brought you in. Sneaking worried glances at you, he led you up the stairs to his bedroom.It was nice in there, cleaner than you had expected, with a gray down comforter on his bed. He motioned for you to sit down, and you did, eyes glued to the floor. He leaned against the door, closing it in the process. 

"(Y/n). Talk to me." Although he didn't dare to touch you yet, he came closer, sitting on the floor in front of you and trying to catch your eye. 

When you lifted your gaze to meet him, he was surprised by the intensity and darkness in your gaze. You couldn't stop it now- the sobs were escaping, your shoulders shaking silently as your intakes of breath were the only noise in the room. You were still shaking, harder than before, which prompted Oikawa to take a seat next to you. Hesitantly, he put his arms around you, drawing you into a hug. Surprisingly, you didn't stop him. 

You let him hold you until the shuddering subsided, raindrops beginning to patter on his roof as you melted in his touch. You buried your face in his chest, not wanting him to stop holding you this close. His eyes were wide, staring over your shoulder, as he realized what it was like to have you in his arms. Slowly and reluctantly he pulled away, leaving you instantly missing his warmth and tilting your head ever so gently to face him with his index finger. His eyes were heavy with concern, examining your face and staring deep into your eyes.

"Did they hurt you?" Oikawa uttered, voice barely above a whisper. "If they did, I'll kill them with my bare hands."

"N-no," you replied, voice raspy, "I'm okay."

"Thank god," he sighed, "You scared the shit out of me." Staring at your face and noticing how your eyes curved away from his, he quickly deduced there was something more going on. Almost unconsciously, he reached up to trace your face, cupping your chin in his large hand and running a finger along your cheekbones. His touch was light as a feather. 

Opening your mouth, you struggled to get the words out. "It's one of my biggest fears, being followed," you said, and he sensed there was more to come. "It happened when I was ten. I had no one to help me, and I almost got kidnapped. I'm always so scared of walking alone now- I thought I'd gotten over it, but I definitely haven't." 

You can't look at him anymore, your voice dropping to a whisper. Oikawa feels your pain so acutely it's like he was in your body. His hand finds its way to your shoulder, asking permission to pull you into another hug. You nod a little, and he hugs you, resting his head on yours and drinking in your scent. He pulls you close, and you let him, seeking the affection you never knew you needed. Your head is against his chest, so you feel the vibrations when he speaks.

"I'm so sorry." 

"Yeah, well, there's not much to be done about it now." You let out a half-hearted laugh into his chest, causing his heart to twinge at the sound of the bitterness it carries. 

He never lets go of you through the whole time you talk, later into the afternoon and into the evening. Eventually, you both end up lying on his bed, facing each other with your body close to his. It's not sexual, this thing you have- it's something both of you needed: comfort. When you fall asleep in his arms, Oikawa just cuddles you closer. 

When you wake up later, entangled in each other's arms, to Iwaizumi standing awkwardly at the foot of the bed, nonplussed, you spring out of Oikawa's arms and hurriedly say, "It's not what it looks like!" 

Meanwhile, Oikawa wishes you had stayed cuddling him, close to him forever. That's when he realized he was truly in love with you. 

a/n: the being followed when you were ten thing is actually a true story, and i kind of wanted to build off of some trauma. (writer shit)

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

By My Side (Part 9)

Summary: The reader and Jensen have a relaxing afternoon where they discuss their future with one another...

Masterlist

Pairing: Bodyguard!Jensen x reader

Word Count: 2,000ish

Warnings: language

A/N: Please enjoy the final part! I had a lot of fun with this series!

_________

One Month Later

“Hey Mikey,” you called from the hammock you were sharing with Jensen in the backyard. He popped his head up from one of the patio loungers, his head deep in a legal brief. “Don’t you have a date tonight?”

“She’s coming over later for the party,” he said, going back to work.

“Did you clear that with head of security?” asked Jensen.

“Head of security can suck my dick,” said Michael as he flipped a page.

“Suck your own. I set you up on this date you know,” you said.

“Ah, this is what I missed,” said your dad as he sat at the table playing a game of chess against Chuck.

“If you can imagine they were worse as teenagers,” said Chuck, moving a piece. “You were planning to have more, weren’t you?”

“We were discussing it. Y/N kept asking for siblings,” he said. “Glad she found some.”

“They never got on very well until recently,” said Chuck.

“Dysfunctional family is kind of our thing,” said Michael, reviewing another paper. Your mom took a sip of her drink, giving Brian a smile. You saw him go to hold her hand under the table but he hesitated, your mom taking his anyways. She rested her feet over Chuck’s lap and you shook your head. 

“They’re so loud,” you mumbled to Jensen. You curled into his chest and he gave your waist a light squeeze.

“They’re alright,” he murmured against your neck. “Wait until you meet my family.”

“God I hope they aren’t crazy like mine,” you said.

“No one’s quite at that level,” he chuckled. “They’re not crazy. Just...odd.”

“Your family or mine?”

“Probably both,” he said. “Want to go for a walk before the party?”

“Sure,” you said. You both rolled out of the hammock and said you’d be back soon, Jensen taking your hand as you walked to the front of the house. A car pulled up at the new gate and you let it in, smiling as you saw Nick and his friend climb out of the car.

“How was the flight?” you asked as he stretched out.

“Good. This is Spencer. Spence, Y/N and her boyfriend bodyguard, Jensen,” said Nick. 

“Nice meeting you guys,” he said. “Nick says you’re why Y/N’s dad is back in the picture?”

“Something like that,” said Jensen. “We’re gonna take a quick walk but feel free to show Spencer around the house or take a dip in the pool.”

“We’ll start cooking in about an hour but snack on whatever you like,” you said. You and Jensen gave them a quick wave before you were walking down the street, Doug whistling from his driveway.

“You two kids staying out of trouble?” he asked.

“Only the bad kind,” said Jensen. “See you and the girls at the party in a bit.”

You hummed as you walked, Jensen squeezing your hand when a car went past.

“Your bodyguard rules are a tad conflicting you know,” you said, smiling at him. “Put you between me and a vehicle but if we’re walking on a city street, put myself closer to the street and you closer to alleyways.”

“Not confusing at all. You stay away from the danger,” he said. “I let you slide on some stuff.”

“I have sex with you, Ackles.”

“I know and I wanna keep doing that so I let you slide,” he teased. He bopped your nose and you laughed, slowing down a bit as you hit the quiet stretch of road with lots of trees around. “I was talking to Chuck earlier. He no longer hates me.”

“See? I told you he’d come around.”

“Strong disdain was now in play,” said Jensen. “I still can’t believe I fucked up like that.”

“Well first off, Chuck doesn’t have the high and mighty card to play. His own sons thought for a split second he was capable. Even mom.”

“How’d the family therapy session go this week?” he asked.

“Okay. The boys all cried. Mom and I aren’t gonna go unless they ask us to anymore. Everyone seems okay,” you said.

“Your dad and Chuck are getting along pretty good now,” he said. 

“I don’t know what those three are going to do, honestly. She loves them both still.”

“Sometimes love isn’t enough,” said Jensen.

“I disagree with that sentiment. Sometimes you have to choose if love is more important than other things, things that might be just as vital as love. But I don’t agree that loving someone alone isn’t enough,” you said.

“Quite a hopeless romantic you are,” he said. He threw his arm over your shoulders and kissed the top of your head. “Anyone in particular you’re loving these days?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” you said with a shrug. Your face felt hot, Jensen slowing his walk to almost a crawl. 

“I’m not afraid of you running off on me,” he said. “Not after everything.”

“Good cause you’re important to me,” you said. 

“That what we’re calling it?” he said, your arm sliding around his back, hand settling on his waist. 

“Shut up,” you said, resting your head against his shoulder. You snuggled him for a brief moment before you started walking again, Jensen’s hand grazing your cheek. 

“You’re important to me too,” he said quietly. 

“Okay,” you said. You smiled and you both moved your arms so you could go back to holding hands, Jensen taking his baseball cap off his head and putting it on backwards on your own.

“Can I tell you about what happened to me sometime?” he asked. You turned your head towards him, Jensen shrugging. “You know...the not so great stuff with Hall and all that.”

“Always. I’d never tell a soul,” you said.

“It’s probably not as horrible as whatever you’ve dreamed up in your head,” he said. “But I don’t want you to worry about it anymore. I’m not so scared of you changing your mind about me if you hear it now.”

“I just want to be able to help you the way you’ve helped me,” you said. “That’s what we do.”

“True. I’m still your bodyguard though,” he chuckled.

“Yeah but that’s like an assumed role with you being my boyfriend anyways. I feel like you’ll always be my bodyguard,” you said.

“Always?” he asked. “Always doesn’t sound so bad.”

“You know what I mean,” you said.

“I know,” he said. “A man can dream though.”

“When we met, what was your gut reaction?” 

“Within half an hour of meeting you, I wanted to quit. I knew...I knew there was this something that I don’t know what it was, it just really wanted to know you and make sure you stayed safe. I didn’t think I could do both effectively.”

“So we were both a bit mean to hide things.”

“Well, you are kinda a sassy client. You don’t always listen to me like the time you nearly got a concussion,” he said, bumping your shoulder with a laugh.

“Excuse me but I escaped, not you, and I saved your perky little ass,” you said.

“Oh so you did notice it’s perky,” he said. You rolled your eyes but giggled, Jensen kissing your temple again. “Maybe you can be my bodyguard too.”

“That sounds fun,” you said. “I’m not wearing a suit though.”

“You could just wear what I do.”

“One of your shirts?”

“Yeah, just that’s good,” he said, chuckling as you lightly smacked his chest. “To be honest, I hate the suits. I prefer the laid back look.”

“I prefer anything where I get to see more skin,” you said. “But that does bring up a point I wanted to talk to you about.”

“Yes?”

“If I wanted you to stay on as a bodyguard...for like work and events moreso cause at home I think boyfriend Jensen could handle that job, would you still work for me?” you asked.

“I’d do it for free,” he said. You cocked your head and he shrugged. “I’m serious.”

“Well I’m still gonna pay you. I just wasn’t sure if you wanted something more...exciting,” you said.

“I’m good with quiet. You still have your fair share of crazies out there. Like the stalker guy,” he said, your eyes wide. “I’m joking.”

“Why do I feel like you’re not?” you asked.

“Don’t worry about it,” he said. “You’re safe.”

“Never thought I wasn’t,” you said. “Jensen.”

“Yes?”

“Do you want to get away this weekend? Somewhere quiet before I start filming my movie next month?” you asked.

“Yeah. I’d like that,” he said. “After our epic party tonight of course.”

“It’s not gonna be epic,” you said. “It’s like fifty people max.”

“No, it’ll be epic,” he said. “Cause I got you a present you’re gonna love.”

“Tease. What is it?”

“If you must know,” he said as he pulled out his phone. He handed it to you and tapped the screen, scrolling for a minute before he got where he wanted.

“Plane tickets? For tomorrow to the Maldives?” you asked. “How...Jensen you can’t afford this. You have to let me pay for-”

“Oh, honey. I haven’t paid my own rent, utilities, food in a very long time. That plus these hot shot hollywood types and their fancy contracts? I’m better off than you think I am,” he said. “You like, legit saved my life and made me as happy as I’ve ever been and I just want to take my girl on vacation to a place she’s always wanted to go.”

“Fine but only cause I really want to go with you,” you said. 

“I knew I’d win you over,” he said.

“You did that a while ago,” you said, a guy walking past on the other side of the street. Jensen took his phone back and glanced over his shoulder once he was gone. “A pap again?”

“Yup,” he said, sending a text off to Jake. “Oh wait. I forgot to do my favorite part.”

He turned around with you and let out a loud whistle, the guy spinning around.

“You do know last guy we caught in the neighborhood we got arrested, right?” called out Jensen. The man paused but kept staring. “I see one photo or your ass around again, we’re gonna have problems.”

“He’s really a sweetheart!” you said. “Probably want to get out of here before we come back around though. He’s a tad protective.”

The man walked a bit faster, Jensen chuckling as you both watched him slip in a car and head for the entrance out of the neighborhood.

“Ah, I love doing that,” he said. “I am a sweetheart, aren’t I.”

“Yes, yes you are,” you said. He squeezed your hand and you looked around, not spotting anything out of the ordinary. “What?”

“That one’s just for me,” he said. He kissed your lips, pulling back with a big smile. You kissed his cheek, breaking off and kissing his lips, cupping his face. 

“That one’s for me,” you said.

“Better do it again, just in case,” he said.

“Whatever you say, Mr. Bodyguard.”

_______

[babyspiderling]

Little Red Corvette p.2 Michael Jackson x reader

(Bad Era)

Eight Months Later (1983)

I did this pregnancy on my own. My mother was appalled at the fatherless child growing inside of me and refused to support me through my pregnancy. The struggles and frustrations for the past nine months very easily justified when I held my baby boy in my arms. His skin was a beautiful shade of brown, his eyes deep and pulling like his fathers. Looking down at the tiny human finally in the world, there was no question or doubt in my mind who the father was. By blessing or curse, I was the only one who knew who the father was. Relatively early in my pregnancy, Michael released a video for one of his songs "Billie Jean". I sat and stressed over the possibility of him knowing of the child in my womb for weeks, but nothing came of it. No managers offering hush money, no reporters asking about the legitimacy of the child inside of me, nothing, so life went on. Looking down at the life in my arms, snuggled towards me I spoke softly. "Edward Michael L/N. My little blessing."

1986

It wasn't too long after Edward, or Eddie was born that I went back to work. I hired a sitter, or depending on the client, brought him in with me. Whitney Houston and Cher absolutely gushed over him during breaks. When Eddie was three, I got a call from Quincy Jones asking me to help him out on the mixing on an album. I agreed and found someone to watch my son while I worked. Quincy didn't tell me who I was hired for and I didn't want to seem unprofessional to whoever Quincy was working with. I kissed my three year old good-bye and got into my car to head to the studio they were using. "Bye Blessing! Mommy's going to work, but I'll be home soon. I love you so much!" I drove through the California traffic to the studio and parked my car near the front. I checked myself in the mirror before making my way inside.

"Y/N! You made it! Where's Eddie? You know you can bring him any time? Little dude has got potential if you ever want him to get into our world." I laugh at Quincy's antics. "Yeah, I know you love Eddie. Thank you for the compliment, but he's three, Q. He's not going into show business any time soon." Q shrugs his shoulders and turns back to the soundboard in his rolling chair. "Alright, let's get down to business shall we?" He nods and presses play on the vocals. I feel the blood drain from my face as a familiar voice croons from the speakers.

"I don't care what you talkin' 'bout baby, I don't care what you say. Don't you come walkin' beggin' back mama,I don't care anyway"

I stand stock still in shock, flashes of our one night together, my isolated pregnancy, my little boy waiting at home for me. I yank myself out of it with a sharp gasp when Q places a hand on my elbow, his eyebrows creased in worry. "Hey, Y/N, you good? You look like you've seen a ghost. What's going on?" I swallow and tuck my hair behind my ear, a nervous tick. "Yeah, I'm fine Q. I don't know what that was. How're we mixing this one?" He sits back in his chair, taking a deep breath and heaving it out in a large sigh. "Yeah, about that. Smelly's really particular on how he wants each track to sound on this album. He wants his voice to be layered in a harmony with himself during the chorus. He's recorded the audio, now it's our turn to get it just the way he wants." I nod and sit down in my own chair, slipping the large, bulky headphones over my ears to start working. The sooner I can finish working on Michael's album the better.

"Alright! Two music heads working on that was much faster than just me. I've got a few more tracks to work on before the release of the album. You good to come in say, day after tomorrow? Early morning so we can get a lot done. And bring Eddie. I miss my godson." I laugh and roll my eyes, giving Quincy a playful shove on the shoulder. "Works for me. And yes, I'll bring Eddie if the 'Client' won't mind a toddler running around the studio space while we work." Q chuckles and reclines in his chair. "No, he won't mind. I have a feeling you know who we're working for here?" I nod, and grab my purse off the ground. "Alright, you know it's Michael. I promise he won't mind. He loves kids" I nod, not really looking forward to potentially forcing Michael into Eddie's life out of obligation. I drive home reflecting on the strange chain of events that brought me here in the first place. I pull into the driveway and unlock the door. I drop my things on the floor where I stand and catch my little boy running into my arms. "Mommy! Me and April painteded! Come see! Come see!" He wiggles out of my arms and drags me to the fridge by my wrist. He bounces where he stands as I look at his painting. It was surprisingly detailed for a three year old. I smile proudly at him as I turn to my sitter, April. "Thank you for watching him so last minute. I really appreciate it." She just smiles at me and grabs her purse from the table. "Oh, Ms. L/N, it's really no trouble. Eddie is just the best kid ever. He was so funny during lunch. I had the radio playing while we ate and he just sat there, dancing in his seat. He didn't even realize he was doing it! But honestly, he is the easiest kid I have ever watched." I pay her and walk her out to her car parked on the street. I turn back to Eddie with a smile. "Wanna eat and watch a movie tonight with Mommy?" My blessing nods his head so hard and fast, I think it'll fly off like a bobble head with a loose spring. "Alright bud, what do you want for dinner?" "PIZZA!" I chuckle at my little boy. "Alright, pizza it is."

I buckle Eddie in the backseat, and climb into the front seat myself. "We're gonna see Uncle Q today buddy! Mommy has to make some music, but you get to hang out with us!" He kicks his legs in the air and gives a shout of excitement. "Yay Uncle Q!" I turn on the radio and look over my shoulder to pull out of the driveway to get to the studio. Parking, I pull the keys out of the ignition and grab Eddie, reminding him to put his backpack on. I hold his hand as we make our way to the studio, the front empty. I sit Eddie down on the chair and go to grab a cup of coffee from the lobby. "I'll be right back baby. I'm gonna get some coffee, and find Uncle Q ok?" He nods and swings his legs in the chair. I hand him the truck from his bag and kiss his forehead before leaving.

I bumped into Quincy in the hall after getting my coffee and went back to the studio space together. When we opened the door, a slim caramel skinned man was kneeling before my son, talking and laughing with him. At the sound of the door opening, Eddie glanced at us. "Mommy! Uncle Q! I made a new friend! His name is Michael, like me!" I widen my eyes in shock at his innocent chatter. Quincy scoops up his godson and chuckles. "Oh yeah Eddie? And what did you guys talk about?" Eddie wraps his arms around Q's neck. "We talked about drawing! Michael is very really good at coloring!" Q humors his godson, chuckling at the boy who has him wrapped around his little finger. While the two talk Michael lifts himself from the ground and introduces himself. "Hi, I'm Michael. I don't think we've been introduced." He sticks out his hand and I feel conflicted. I was so afraid of him noticing me, connecting the dots, but it hurt a bit that I meant so little to him. In his defense, it was one night, four years ago. I grasp his hand and introduce myself again. "Y/N. I'm mixing for your album with Q. You've already met my son, Eddie." He shakes my hand, and smiles back at Eddie. "He's a joy. I was recording and didn't know he was here. I look up and little guy's just dancing in his seat like crazy. He was just coloring on a blank sheet of paper. Sweet kid." I nod and swallow. "Let's get to work, shall we?" Michael nods and goes to the soundboard to listen to the new version of "Leave Me Alone". I watch Michael bob his head to the rhythm, as Eddie dances in the corner. I nibble and pull on my lips in a nervous tick. The music fades out and Michael looks at Q and I with a smile. "Awesome guys! Just what I wanted. I want Y/N as my mixer for the rest of the album. That good Quincy?" Quincy bounces Eddie in his lap, grinning. "Of course it's good! Gotta teach my godson the ropes right?" I smile and ruffle Eddie's hair lovingly, nodding along. Q, Eddie, and I occupy the main front of the studio space as Michael goes back to record another track.

The day goes by quickly, Q leaving the three of us alone to grab lunch. I sit at the recording desk and write down a few lyrics here and there, a melody and message in my head dying to get out. I glance over at my son and see him and Michael goofing around. I smile sadly, imagining what our lives would be like if Michael didn't leave that morning, if he knew he had a son with me. I guess I didn't realize how long I had been staring at the two until my son met my eyes, causing him to run to me in a comforting manner. "Mommy, what's wrong?" I shake off the sadness and force a smile on my face to keep my caring boy from worrying over me. "I'm fine baby. Just a bit tired. It may be Mommy's nap time soon." He nods and giggles, kissing my cheek before going back to Michael. Michael picks up Eddie, placing him on his hip, and walks towards me. 'Hey, Y/N, if you want, you can take a nap in the recording studio. I've got a couch back there. I can come and get you when Quincy comes back with lunch. I try to turn down his offer, but a yawn interrupts my objection. Michael gently guides me to the studio and sits me down on the couch, exiting and turning the lights out on the way. Against my wishes, I close my eyes and succumb to the peace of sleep.

I groggily pulled myself from the depths of dreamland at the sounds of people talking and laughing. I heard Eddie and Michael talking and it immediately caught my attention. "So, your mom makes music, your Uncle Q makes music, what does your dad do?" I peek out from the window and see Eddie and Michael sitting on the floor, rolling toy trucks around, a takeout container setting on the desk. "I don't know. I don't have a dad. Mommy plays Mommy and Daddy. She goes to all my games, plays with me, teaches me how to put on shoes." From where I stand, I can't see Michael's face, and I decide now is a good time to get back out there. I open the door and both boys look up at me. I glance at my watch and see that it's about time to go home. "Hey, sorry I slept so long. Why didn't you wake me up?" Michael shrugs and stands. "You looked so peaceful while you slept. Didn't want to wake you, let alone let you drive home tired. Lunch got here not too long ago so your food should still be warm. I was actually about to head home myself if you're ok with coming in tomorrow instead? We can keep working." I nod and grab my container. "In case I get here before you, what are you wanting to do with the other tracks?" I eat my food as he goes over what he wants to be done with a couple other songs to be put on the album. Now finished with my food, I throw away my empty container, asking Eddie to pack up so we can head home. Before we leave, Q comes back in, sad that we have to leave so soon. I promise to bring Eddie back tomorrow if that's alright with Michael, which it of course is. I give a hug to Q, and an awkward hug/handshake maneuver to Michael. Eddie practically tackles the both of the men in hugs and races to grab my hand. As we leave, I can faintly hear Michael tell Q "She seems so familiar, like I've met her before."

Taglist: @accio-boys​

[atalho-s]

Sweet Sugar

1 | Subterranean Homesick Alien

(gif it’s not mine! let me know if you’re the owner!)

pairing: tom holland x reader / tom holland x brazilian reader (she’s from brazil here, but you can picture her being of any place that you want! Since the story wouldn’t change bc of that) 

warnings: swear words, underage drinking (not much tho, nothing like “Skins” lmao), suggestive scenes in some chapters, not smut, but minors be aware. Fluff/angst/drama/ Y/n and Tom being stupid teenagers with feelings.

words: 2.4 k

Summary: Y/n has always been best friends with Harrison and Tom. Since childhood they've always been close, but what happens if after a break up with her first boyfriend, she starts to feel something more about Tom?

A conflict of feelings, the non-acceptance of falling in love and the fear of losing her best friend, all in the head of an 17-year-old teenager. And on top of that, still having to fear of not being accepted for college.

a/n: 

This is a series i have in portuguese on my wattpad! It’s kinda long and have 2 parts haha but i decided to translate to post here too :) 

It was my first fanfic ever, so be aware lol

I never been to europe, so i’m sorry for any mistake about city features or how school works...

I just want to thank @petesrparker​ : Gio you’re the best and thank you for always helping me and hype up this series since the beginning! Seriously, you’re the best, this story would be nothing without you 😭❤

She even did a playlist for this! ikr? She’s amazing 💕 you can check out here if you want! 

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It was 2 minutes to 7am and I was late for school. Running to put on my warm sweatshirt and getting ready psychologically to go out in a cold weather, I grabbed my keys and tried to lock the door almost dropping my backpack on the floor. It was almost summer, but my town wasn't disappointed in having very cold mornings and hot afternoons.

"Shit," I murmured as I kicked the door, insisting that didn't want to close it. "Why hasn't my mom called someone to fix this thing yet?" I spoke to myself and finally managed to close it hearing a click. Coming down the stairs practically running, I closed the small gate and strode down the street.

I lived with my parents in a town called Kingston-upon-Thames, in a tiny two-bedroom house, very close to the school. You just need to walk about 4 blocks and voilá, I could already see the entrance gate and the familiar faces of the gringos. I was in the last year of high school, just turned 17 and I was born in Brazil, but grew up in London, when my father had to move because of his work, when I was only 6 years old. Obviously we weren't rich, my father worked with woodwork, and my mother currently worked in a small flower shop in the city center. But when my father received an offer to move to another country, he didn't think twice. Learn another culture, a new language and still earn some good money?An offer that cannot be refused.

The first time we arrived it was very strange, only my father knew intermediate English and my mother and I obviously did not know a single word. But we quickly befriended a family that lived on our street: the Osterfields. Jenna and Carter were the parents of two children: Harrison, the same age as me and little Charlotte (newborn at the time). Harrison and I immediately became inseparable, and he became like a brother to me and our families became one.

Obviously with him, also came nothing more and nothing less than: the Holland family. Nikki and Dom had 4 male children, one my age: Tom, Harry and Sam twins, 3 years younger and Paddy who was born 2 years later. So the family just grew, our parents became best friends, and me, Harrison and Tom became an unbeatable trio. There was no Y/n, without Tom and Harrison and vice versa, we're always together.

We went to the same school since always. As Haz lived only a few houses below mine, we meet and go together and Tom, who lived on the other side of the school, met us at the gate every day.

I went down the street and saw Haz sitting on the wall in front of his house, fiddling with his cell phone with a earphone, as soon as I approached he raised his head and smiled.

- Finally, I thought you aren’t going to class today. - He said getting up and giving me a kiss on the cheek.

- Good morning to you too Haz. - I said laughing and hooking my arm on him, while we went down the street. - You know that now that my mom is working on the other side of town she leaves early and then I have to wake up by myself, which is clearly a problem.

- Sleepyhead, - he said and I playfully tapped his arm while he laughed.

- Well, i'm, what can I say? Sleeping is the best thing in the world. - I said. - Did you do the history homework?

- Wich history homework? - He stopped suddenly looking at me in shock.

- Harrison Osterfield, you are not going to tell me that you forgot the work that I talked about it every day for almost a month. - I said putting my hand on my waist scolding him.

- Well ... I completely forgot. - Haz said scratching the back of his head with the face of a stray dog. -I was busy decorating the lines from the play.

- Wow Harrison, that way you will fail and then you'll  came crying to me. 

- Ok mom, sorry! But was it for today? Can I copy it and give it to you later? 

- Ok, but just this time, and do me a favor to exchange practically all the words I used or i'll be in trouble. - I said taking out my briefcase, while he held my backpack and I handed him my work. 

- I love you... - he said giving me back my backpack and hugging me, kissing my head afterwards.

- And I don't love you at all, bummer. - I giggled and we rounded the corner of the school.

Tom was already leaning against the side of the gate with his backpack between his legs, talking to a guy who was doing theater with him and Harrison. He was laughing at something, wearing a black hoodie, his hair was a little messy under his hood and his nose was slightly red from the cold. For some reason my stomach did some flips as we approached.

Harrison and Tom were very handsome, there was no denying it, they were half nerds, half bad boys (in the sense of forgetting to study for the exam or not doing their homework once in a while), they did theater, they were nice and got along very well with girls since they started puberty. As for me, I was the nerd who was always concerned about grades and getting into the journalism college, I didn't always have excellent grades, but they were enough to pass or impress the professors when I felt inspired. I wasn't popular, but not a completely ghost too, because being best friends with the boys ended up calling attention in some way.

The only boyfriend I had was a guy named Steven, and also my first kiss, to at age 15, but we broke up last year. Steven was cool, but we had different views on things and use to think about completely different futures, so we thought it was best to broke up. And since then I'm alone and very well, thank you.

But since I broke up with Stev, for some reason I've started to have some weird feelings for Tom. Weird in the meaning of being shy around him, with whatever he does, or whatever words he exchanges with me. Which is ridiculous, because he's my childhood friend, and I never felt any of that with Haz, so why with him I feel? I always saw Haz as my brother, but with Tom it's different, and I never understood why.

Anyway, here I was with my heart beating faster and faster as we approached. As soon as we got close, Tom waved goodbye to the guy he was talking. He grabbed his backpack off the floor and patted Haz on the back, kissing my forehead afterwards, which I immediately feel my cheeks burning with embarrassing, but no one realized.

- Hey mates! Finally! I thought you weren't coming anymore.- he said as the three of us went through the gate towards the school.

- The madam here, was the one who ended up sleeping too much, I was also waiting a long time.- Haz said and I rolled my eyes, making Tom smile.

- I understand Y/n, I also love sleeping... By the way, I said I was waiting a long time, but actually I just arrived. - He laughed - Your mother started working on that flower shop, right?

- Yeah! She started today, so I'm still getting used to waking up just with the alarm without my mom pulling me from under the covers by my hair.- I replied and they both laughed.

- Which class do you guys have now? - Tom asked as we went up the stairs to the first floor where the class rooms were.

-Math- Haz said, rolling his eyes. - Actually, I really have to go, because if I show up a second late again Mr. Jones will kill me. - he said giving us a brief wave and running to the opposite side.

- I have philosophy, thank God, one of my favorite subjects.- I said raising my hands to the sky as a joke and Tom laughed.

- Wow y/n, I thought your favorite subject was biology and English.- he said and I stuck out my tongue, but feeling a little warm inside, these subjects were the ones we had together.

- Anyway, see you later? I have physics now unfortunately.

- Yeah, I'll be at our new favorite place. - I giggle, it had been a week since me, Haz and Tom found a perfect place to stay during the break, which was on the back of the school, on a hill next to a tree, where we had a full view of the students down there. It was perfect, because the warm morning sun was shining and we'd be left on the ground gossiping and watching what others were doing.

- See you there shortie. -Tom said kissing the top of my head, giving me a wink and leaving towards his class room.

- Look who's talking. - I said loudly for him to hear and he showed me his middle finger from a distance, laughing at my face.

I turned around smiling and headed towards my class. The first two classes were normal, nothing new, I was still a little sleepy, so I ended up almost sleeping in the second geography class, where I was almost kicked out by Mr Wilson, who let It pass this time. The alarm hit indicating it was break time and I thanked God, practically running to stay out in the sun.

I grabbed my phone from my pocket and my headphones, hitting play on Radiohead's Subterranean Homesick Alien song and walking outside. I saw Steven with his new girlfriend Lily right on the way out, they were talking, hugging each other and looked very happy, he saw me and gave a smile from a distance where I reciprocated. Our break up went very well, without resentment, which made me happy.

I walked up the small hill and saw Haz and Tom already at our meeting place. Tom was lying down looking at the sky while Haz was sitting propped up in the tree.

- Did you guys miss me? - I said sitting next to Haz.

- Yeah, we were even thinking about how we could handle living without you y/n- Haz said and Tom chuckled.

- I know you two love me. - I said shrugging.

- In fact, we were arguing when you're going to have a new boyfriend. - Tom said and I froze.

- And who said I want a new boyfriend? I asked raising my eyebrow.

- We know you y/n, you starting to have your head in the clouds lately, always retweeting couple things and posting romantic songs, I can see that you're falling in love again.- Tom said, still looking at the sky.

- I agree. - Haz said taking the side of my earphone and putting into his ear. - She's even listening to Radiohead! And you always listen to Radiohead when you're in love. - I gave them a sarcastic laugh and pulled the earphone of his ear turning off the music making Haz laugh.

- You guys are idiots, I'm fine alone thank you, I just want to focus on my studies from now on. - I said and they both made a "hmm" in unison, making me roll my eyes.

- Actually, we were discussing where we're going to celebrate my 17th birthday tomorrow.- Tom said changing the subject, turning his head and covering the sun with his hand to look at me.

-Tomorrow is your birthday?- I asked pretending to be surprise and Tom rolled his eyes playfully.

- I know you two always look forward to my birthday, because you love me and want to surprise me.- he said and Haz and I laughed ironically. - But Marcos offered his house, because his parents are traveling, so we could make a cool party there! So I was thinking about calling the theater people and some of our friends like Julian, Tuwaine and etc, maybe getting some drinks too... - Tom said sitting down and cleaning some leaves that were stuck on his hoodie.

- I think it's a good idea, I'm not much of partying or drinking, but with you both I always have fun.- I said and Haz rested his head on my shoulder.

- Good to know we make you happy Y/n. - Haz said and I giggle patting his head.

- So we meet tomorrow? You guys want to stop by my house so we could go together?

- Actually, I have to go to my granny first, so I'll go from there.- Haz said and Tom gave him a thumbs up.

- Y/n you can go? Around 7pm it's ok?

-Of course Tommy. - I said and he smiled at the nickname.

- Okay, I'll wait for you at 7pm and I'll send you the address, mate.- he said to Haz as we got up listening to the bell ringing indicating the break was over.

- Deal!- Haz said.

- Deal. - I also said as we went down back to class.

The last classes were history, the subject I had with Haz and he returned my homework, assuring me that he had changed the words. We spend the whole class sending notes talking about nonsense and making jokes. Haz and I were pretty good at sending notes without the professor seeing.

But I confess I was puzzled by what the boys had said earlier, how did they have the impression that I was in love? I wasn't, was I? Was I showing too much that i had feelings for Tom? I don't know, I just know that the whole story had left me with immense anxiety.

The class was over and I said goodbye to Haz, because he had theater with Tom and I didn't have any extra activities that day. The only days that i had something was on monday, tuesday and thursday, when I have a school reinforcement to improve my notes to enter college. Which was a relief, since I had to run to the mall to look for a gift to give Tom for his birthday. I had been looking for weeks and I didn't find anything interesting to give to my best friend. Best friend isn't it? Nothing more than this...

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a/n: if you liked and want to be tagged on the next chapters let me know! 😊

[animedaddymilkers]

Kinkmas 2020: Day 21

Prompt: Yandere/Spanking w/ Inoichi

Genre: Smut/18+ || Tags: Yandere, Mutual Pining, Implied Stalking, Mild Dubcon, Spanking, Penetrative Sex, Aftercare || Characters: Inoichi Yamanka, Female Reader || read it on ao3 here

this fic contains yandere and mild dubcon themes, if that makes you uncomfortable please do not read!

With a content sigh, you unlocked the front door to your apartment, a slight fuzziness blurring your vision and limbs thanks to the alcohol coursing through your veins. Your keys were discarded into the cutesy trinket tray, your shoes kicked off into the ever-growing pile nearby. The date was an okay one, nothing extremely exciting but, hey, he was cute and it was a fun time. It may have sounded obnoxious when said out loud, but no men your age interested you. Not like you didn't give a plethora of them chances, and you still made friends with most of them. You just never seemed to form that romantic attachment you craved so desperately. What that said about your mental health wasn't totally lost on you, but not like you could (or wanted) to do a whole lot about it.

The sweater covering your shoulders was thrown onto a chair, your constricting belt quickly following as you made your way to your bedroom. At first, you didn't notice it, didn't notice anything at all. You simply continued walking on past the kitchen and living room, into your bedroom where you stripped your shirt and pants off. Trudging back out to the bathroom in your underwear and bra, your brows furrowed. You didn't remember turning one of the lights on… Chalking it up to the kitchen stove light you always left on, you continued your mission of brushing your teeth and face. When you came back out of the bathroom, you headed to the kitchen for a glass of water, freezing when you saw a figure sitting in one of your chairs, contently reading a book.

"S-Sir?!" the big kitchen light was on, illuminating the stoic face of one of Konoha's strongest shinobi.

The older blond man placed his book down, seeming annoyed it took you this long to notice him before he started with a huff, "I pay all my employees well, even ones as low down on the ladder as you. One would think that allows for better locks. And it's about time you arrived home, considering you have work tomorrow, no?"

Confusion was about the only emotion you could feel as your boss all but scolded you, besides the dull horny you always felt when it came to the man in front of you, though you suppressed that part for now, "Better wha- What the hell are you doing in my house?!"

Inoichi stood slowly, towering over you and making you regret the harsh tone you used, "Because it seems you forgot whom you belong to, dearest rosebud."

Besides the fact that his reply gave you more questions than answers, you silently gasped at the pet name he used. It was the same pet name your secret admirer had been using for you. You never saw the constant flower bouquets, food deliveries, or expensive gifts as harmful. They were, if anything, an ego boost to you thus far. All delivered to you with the sweetest notes, describing how ethereal you were, and always addressing you as rosebud, albeit also sounding a bit possessive. Additionally, in the six months, you had been receiving gifts, you hadn't been on any dates, instead choosing to focus on your new career supporting the Torture and Interrogation Department. A career that found you moving up the ladder fast, though you were still just doing menial tasks. Briefly, you wondered how much Inoichi had to do with those promotions, but he took a step towards you, cupping your face in his hand, and tore you from your thoughts.

"I think it's about time you come home. To your true home, don't you?"

Your heart thumped loudly in your throat and you nodded against your better judgment, "I do."

The smile you were met with sent a warm tingle through your body, and you returned a smile of your own. Inoichi nodded and picked his book up from the table, his other hand patting the top of your head. The silent praise had your chest swelling with pride for some reason unknown to you. It should have alarmed you how easily you accepted his offer, though you rationalized that you didn't have much choice, fearing that if you rejected him the trained ninja would take you anyways. Better to go willingly than be taken by force, right? Well, that and you were still a bit tipsy.

Before long, you were tucked snugly into the side of the blond man, his arm wrapped protectively around you. The route to his home was longer than it should have been, you suspected he was purposely avoiding the main streets. Being a high ranking shinobi taking a girl home during the early hours of the morning would raise questions. Especially a girl that worked under him. His warm touch was protecting you from the cold and the smell of his expensive cologne was intoxicating. It had you snuggling into his side more, an act which made him smile, he knew his rosebud wouldn't deny him. This definitely proved you deserved a present larger than anything he gifted you previously.

The Yamanaka clan complex was expansive and the main house was nothing to sneeze at either, easily dwarfing your apartment several times over. He led you inside, showing you around and you took notice of how similar his place was to yours. Not in the layout or big furniture pieces, but he had the same type of napkins, your favorite drinks, even your shampoo in his bathroom which you assumed was his daughter's. It didn't dawn on you until he took you on a tour of his room just how deep you were in. In his room, you found clothing that was unmistakably yours, items that had gone missing months ago and some just last week. They ranged from shirts and leggings to underwear and even a pillowcase. You tried not to take note of how some pieces were stained with white spots. Uneasiness began to grow in your gut as you wondered what exactly you had gotten yourself into when your phone buzzed with a notification. You pulled it out, only to have Inoichi take it from you and punch in your passcode.

His face soured, "You really think that lowlife deserves a second date? Before you give me even <em>one</em>? Disgusting."

Your date from earlier must have texted back after you replied you wanted to see him again. He was about to slide your phone onto the dresser when it began to ring. If the scowl on his face told you anything, it was, unfortunately, your date calling. The guy did say he preferred talking over text and at the time, you didn't mind, but now, it was really rather annoying.

"Answer it. Reject him. Reject him like you know you want to," the direction was clear and stern, leaving no room for discussion as he thrust the phone in your direction.

Nervously, you took the device from him and answered the call. Rejecting someone, in general, was an anxiety-inducing task, but to have an overbearing admirer glare you down while doing so was all the more nerve-wracking. Your voice wavered slightly as you talked and although Inoichi still frowned, his hands played through your hair, skimming the ends of your locks. The guy on the other end was rightfully confused while you explained you never wanted to see him again because just an hour ago you texted you were looking forward to it. Part of you hoped he would pick up on the odd behavior and come after you, but the realistic part of your brain told you the boy was too daft and a measly coward. The opposite of the man in front of you.

Once the call was complete the smile returned to the blonde's face, "Good flower! I knew you wanted to be with me. But-," his face fell again, a look of complete seriousness that made you swallow hard, "I can't forgive your little indiscretion. Not yet. It seems you need a punishment to truly remind you of whom you belong to, rosebud."

Your face grew cold at the implications, yet still, you allowed Inoichi to lead you towards the bed. He sat on the edge and patted his expansive thighs, hardened with all the training he did. You should be refusing, should be running far, far away from this situation. But, it was too tempting. How many times does the man you fantasize about return your affections so vigorously? Additionally, a spanking from him sounded like time well spent and you did deserve it for trying to date someone else when you were meant for him. You laid yourself across his legs, the pants you haphazardly put on before leaving being tugged down to your knees. His hands caressed your backside, massaging your ass cheeks before giving a playful swat to them.

"Count them. If you lose count we start over. We'll stop when I think you've learned your lesson. Got it?"

You nodded before squeaking out a, "Yes, daddy."

The name seemed to both please and shock the man, as his hand stalled in mid-air before he grinned. Then, he brought his hand down to your cheek, prompting you to call out the number. A second smack was quick to follow onto the other cheek along with a third, his hands only stalling to hear you mutter out the number. Thankfully, he was merciful in his technique, alternating cheeks and making sure to smack the untouched parts of your backside. A couple even landed harshly on your folds, the wetness gathering there only intensifying the pleasure-pain you felt. After spank thirty, it was hard to find an area that wasn't welting up, and so he went over the areas he already smacked. It made it all the more sensitive as your legs jerked slightly and hands clutched at the comforter beneath you. Your ass was raw and bleeding slightly in a few places, yet still, his hands struck you, enjoying each conflicted whine that left your mouth.

At fifty, you prayed he would be finished, but he kept on spanking, making sure to land more smacks over your pussy. He'd make comments that were a mix of degrading praise about how wet you were for him and how well he was going to fuck you. The promise of being railed by the ever-growing hard-on beneath you was the only thing keeping you from begging him to stop. You were determined to be a good girl for your daddy, despite the burning pain you felt on your rear. Somewhere in the midst of the sixties, you actually came on his hand after he smacked your pussy again, earning rumbling praise from the man above you. Finally, at seventy-five, he stopped, most likely because his hands were sore at this point too. Your reprieve was capitalized by him affectionately rubbing and massaging your abused cheeks as if it pained him to hurt you. Without restraint, you whined into his chest as he held you, hips grinding down against his.

He laughed softly and kissed along your jaw, "Have you learned your lesson? Are you ready to accept me as your one and only?"

"Yes, I've learned my lesson, daddy. You're the only one I want in my life. Now and always, please never leave me," you held onto his shirt as you locked gazes with him, your best puppy dog eyes on display.

They worked their intended magic, as you could see his expression soften almost immediately, "Good little blossom. I'll never leave your side and you'll never leave mine. Especially not after we become one, petal."

The notion was intoxicating, being loved by someone so much they'd do anything for you. But right now, the love you needed was physical and with the goal dangling right above your head, you were desperate to reach it. Your hands slid under his shirt and peeled it off, your own being removed soon after. Within a flash, you both were naked and kissing each other feverishly. Inoichi laid back on the bed's pillows, admiring the sight of you perched atop him. You didn't mind being on top, taking the advantage to push his cock into you quickly. As you sank down on him, his hands stroked up and down your thighs, giving a testing thrust up into you. You sat on his cock as much as your body would allow and without hesitation, began to bounce yourself on him. He sighed in pleasure as you wrapped around him so perfectly, telling you he expected nothing less from his perfect rosebud. The praise drove you wild, finally getting the recognition you deserved, albeit in the form of compliments on your sex technique.

When your thigh muscles began to clam up from overuse he laid your body down on top of him. His thick arms wrapped around your torso and he wasted little time in thrusting up into you. Hands caressed your shoulders and he locked gazes with you, unable to tear his eyes away from your face. In the midst of your passionate throes, Inoichi couldn't help but get lost in your otherworldly beauty, only the noises you made and the movement of his hips kept him grounded. It felt like your pussy was made for him, wrapping around him so perfect and driving him insane, he had trouble restraining himself from fucking into you harder. His lips met yours fiercely, kissing and holding onto you like you might disappear at any time. You put a hand on his cheek as you kissed him back and snaked a hand down between your bodies to rub at your clit. Though, your hand was soon removed, being replaced by one of Inoichi's, who explained he was determined to be the one who pleased you. As if you'd have any qualms about that.

His surprisingly smooth fingertips rubbed at your clit and with the constant feeling of his cock pounding against your cervix, you quickly came a second time. Yet still, his fingers kept moving, only stopping for a brief moment to let you ride out your high. The look on his face let you know he was close to orgasm himself, the blush covering his cheeks made your own heat up. Seeing the older blond man so lost in ecstasy, lost in your body, was absolutely pussy clenching. He groaned and held onto you tighter, his face burying into your neck as he moaned your name. The number of times you imagined him calling out your name in pleasure had absolutely nothing on the real thing. You whined into his chest and dug your nails into his shoulder, relishing in the way his cock pounded into your hole, hitting the same spot over and over. Every little thing was mind-blowing when added together and when you heard Inoichi announce he was cumming inside of you, you easily spiraled into another orgasm of your own. You clenched around his twitching cock, milking him for all he was giving you.

After you coaxed a second orgasm from Inoichi you let him pull out, both panting hard and nearly passed out. Yet somehow, he managed to get you into the bathtub and cleaned you up, personally washing you as he whispered constant praises in your ear. You nearly fell asleep like that, if it wouldn't have been for the cold surrounding you once the water was drained. Inoichi sat you down in front of the vanity after he dried your body and affectionately brushed your hair while blow-drying it. Again, the attention and repetitive actions almost put you to sleep, your daddy coaxing you awake with kisses to your jaw. He instructed you to pick out something to wear in the closet while he waited for you in the bed. You assumed he meant to pick something of his to wear for the night, but once you entered the expansive walk-in closet, it all became a bit too clear. The wall opposite of what you assumed was Inoichi's was filled with clothes that fit your exact aesthetic. A few flips through and it confirmed, they were all in your size, some items were exact copies of things you had in your closet, others literal things that you had gone missing. The sight should have disgusted you, creeped you out, something. But looking at the wall of clothes and shoes all you could think of was how thoughtful it was of him to so thoroughly prepare for you moving in.

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[itsadamcole]

christmas with benefits

fem!reader x ‘hangman’ adam page

reader and 'Hangman' Adam Page made a deal a few years ago; that if they were single at Christmastime then they would hook up. Christmas with benefits is what they called it, but this year, it's a little different ...

word count: 2.5k+

warnings: smut (friends with benefits, kinda), kinda fluffy, idrk what else :)

— day 25 ... we did it, and i will be going on a short break after this is posted (it’ll probably be around 11 pm est when y’all see this bc i was really late when i began to write this). i hope you enjoyed these christmas / holiday / winter themed imagines bc i enjoyed writing them —

masterlist || request an imagine here

~ 18+ content below - read at your own risk ~

You sit in your bed in your room back in your parents' house in Virginia. You've texted your best friend, the Hangman Adam Page, to come over since he's not that far away.

It's late, almost midnight on Christmas Eve going into Christmas Day. You sit in your Christmas pajamas as you wait. Your parents have gone to sleep so you just wait for the usual "I'm here" text from Adam so you can go open the front door for him.

This has been a thing every Christmas since yours and Adam's Ring of Honor days. Five years ago, five Christmases ago, both you and Adam agreed that if you were both single during the holidays then you'd casually just hook up. No strings attached, no feelings attached. Christmas with benefits is what Adam first called it, and you couldn't help but agree.

Every year, you'd either meet him at his childhood home, he'd meet you at your childhood home, or you'd meet at a motel.

You don't know how it even got to this point. Five years of hooking up on Christmas. Only one Christmas was missed because Adam was technically seeing a woman and didn't want to do the Christmas with benefits that year, which was fine with you.

The led lights that hang around your room are set to a light blue color and you play with the remote as you wait for your phone to go off.

Just before midnight, at 11:48, your phone starts ringing and Adam's contact pops up. You answer.

"Hey," you say. "Almost here?"

Adam says, "Just turned down your street. I hope you don't mind, and I wanted to give you a heads up, but I brought you a present. I don't know the next time we'll see each other so I wanted to make sure that you got it."

You smile and leave your room, walking downstairs. "Yeah, that's fine," you say. "I have something for you too."

It's been a while since you've seen Adam. He works with AEW and you work with WWE. Your schedules just don't allow you to see him except for a few times a year. Especially since you're NXT women's champion right now.

"Yay," Adam says. "I'll see you in a few."

You say your goodbyes and you wait at the door, watching for Adam's car.

This is something you've always looked forward to. It's something about being close to someone who cares for you and who you care for deeply. If it wasn't for the no feelings attached rule then you would have told him how you felt a long time ago.

Adam's car pulls up out from and you open the front door. The cool air hits you and you shiver a bit. You watch him get out of the car in his cowboy Christmas pajamas. He has a bag and a wrapped box.

Another part of your deal is that after the hookup then it's Christmas movies and snacks. Adam has snacks. That's what you assume is in the bag.

He walks up to your front door and smiles when he sees you. "Hi," he says. "I thought that maybe we can open presents before we, um, you know."

You smile and nod, moving aside so he can walk inside. You close and lock the door behind Adam as he walks upstairs to your bedroom. You closely follow him.

Adam sets the bag and the box down on your bed and you sit on the bed. You grab Adam's present off the bedside table under the lamp before you crisscross your legs and look up at him.

He sits in front of you, mirroring your position. He holds out his present and you take it. "Go ahead," he says. "I'm excited to see your reaction."

You giggle and begin to unwrap the gift. You open the box, which is actually kind of big.

Inside the box is an AEW merch shirt, one of the bandannas that Adam's worn during his entrances, and a necklace that you've wanted forever. It has your birthstone inside of a heart.

"Adam," you gasp. "I've been wanting this necklace forever."

He laughs and says, "I know. I figured it was time to buy it for you. Also, I dare you to wear the AEW shirt to work one day."

You laugh and say, "Stop trying to get me fired."

Adam helps you put the necklace on as he says, "Tony Khan already has told me he wants you on the roster so if Vince McMahon fires you then just come to AEW."

His fingers linger on the back of your neck by the necklace clasp a little longer than they probably should. You look back at Adam and say, "We'll see." You smile. "Anyway, it's time for your present. Open the little envelope after you open your gift."

You hold out the medium-sized box and Adam takes it. He unwraps it and opens the box.

Inside the box you gave Adam is a cowboy hat that has the AEW logo on it, one of your merch shirts, and a little silver bracelet with "cowboy shit", which is Adam's thing, and "ice queen", which is your thing, engraved on it.

You're known as NXT's resident "ice queen" because of your cold heart and rude personality. It's your gimmick. You love it, and it sounds kinda cool.

Adam smiles and opens the tiny envelope. You watch as his eyes widen and he says, "I know you didn't give me a yearlong pass to come to any WWE show."

"Of course I did," you say. "Front row, off-camera for the most part. I know we haven't seen much of each other because of conflicting schedules but maybe if you have some free time and are in the same area then you can use this pass to go in and out of the arena. It's completely free so you don't have to waste several hundred dollars just to see me for twenty minutes."

Adam's tried to come to WWE shows, but tickets were always sold out or not where he wanted them because it was always so last minute. You had the idea of the pass a few weeks ago, talked to management, and got it in time for Christmas.

He says, "You are literally the best person on this Earth."

You giggle and say, "That works for literally any WWE event. A Takeover, a regular NXT live show, or even Wrestlemania."

"Thank you, Y/N," Adam says, putting everything back in the box. "Seriously."

You do the same and say, "It's the least I can do. Maybe we'll see each other more than three or four times a year."

Adam looks at you and smiles. "I'll have to use that pass all the time," he says. "I need to see you more than three or four times a year."

You put your gift from Adam on your bedside table and say, "I agree."

He says, "So, about this Christmas with benefits thing."

"I wanted to talk to you about that," you admit.

While you waited for Adam, you decided to tell him how you feel. Screw the no feelings attached rule.

Adam looks at you confused and says, "Okay. What's on that pretty little mind of yours?"

Your face gets flustered a bit as you say, "We agreed that there would be no feelings attached and no strings attached, and we've done well at that for the past few years."

"But?" Adam asks. He knows what's about to happen.

Nervously, you say, "But recently I've been thinking of you as more than my best friend. I just want more out of this besides sex. You already treat me so well, and we've known each other for years, so I thought that maybe we could try to be more than just friends."

He stares at you as you talk. He can't believe this. You've been doing such a good job at hiding this that he had no idea, and he's not mad about it. He can finally tell you how he's been feeling about you.

In one swift movement, Adam cups your face and pulls you toward him. Your lips crash to Adam's and you gasp. You gasp softly but kiss him back.

The kiss lasts for a few moments before you pull back and ask, "What was that for? You've never kissed me except for when we're, you know."

Adam pushes your hair behind your ear as he says, "I thought that I could start kissing you when we're not having sex."

A smile forms on your lips and your face gets a little flustered. "I would, uh, like that," you stammer. "Can we still have our usual Christmas sex?"

He laughs and says, "That was never out of the equation, Y/N."

You giggle and lean in, kissing Adam again. He kisses you back and you crawl onto his lap, straddling his waist. Your hands slide into his curly hair and his hands slide up the back of your pajama top.

Sighs leave your lips when his hands touch your skin. You smile against his lips and push Adam onto his back.

Slowly, you begin to undress Adam underneath you. You kiss Adam's bare chest once his shirt is off. You do leave a couple of marks on his chest.

"The first chance you get, you mark me up," Adam says, looking down at you. You trail your fingers over the marks and down to the waistband of his Christmas pajama pants.

You look up at Adam with your eyes before you say, "You're mine now. I hope."

Nerves rise up within you as Adam says, "I am. I'm yours."

"Thank God," you sigh as Adam smiles.

You pull off Adam's pajama pants right before Adam rolls and lays on top of you.

He stares down at you and attacks your neck with kisses. You sigh and let out a soft moan. Adam's hands roam your body as he kisses your neck.

You pull off your top, leaving your upper body exposed. Adam's eyes are on your body and you bite your lip softly, watching him. After a moment, he leans down and presses kisses to your bare stomach. You sigh softly.

Adam hooks his fingers into your pajama pants waistband and pulls them off your body. He slips his fingers into your panties and runs his fingers through your folds. You gasp and your back arches off the bed.

After a few seconds of this, Adam pulls off your panties. You look down at Adam and find that he's looking up at you with his eyes. Your tongue swipes across your bottom lip as Adam slips a finger into you, moving it shallowly and slowly. You create a little 'O' with your mouth and a moan escapes.

"Baby, you have to be quiet," Adam reminds you. "Your parents are just down the hall."

You giggle and say, "Oops."

He laughs and speeds up his fingers as he begins to play with your clit with his tongue. "Adam," you sigh. "God, don't stop."

Adam smirks and adds a second finger. Your fingers are back in his curly blond hair. He edges you closer and closer to an orgasm. Your back arches off the bed a few times before Adam pins your hips to the mattress.

You feel your walls begin to clench around Adam's fingers, and he realizes this too. "You gonna come, baby?" he asks. You nod eagerly.

"Please," you whine, needing to release.

He nods and says, "Come for me."

So you do. All over Adam's fingers. You softly moan his name as you release. He sucks his fingers clean before coming up to your lips and kissing you. You moan into his mouth as you kiss him back.

While he's distracted with kissing you, you roll so you're straddling Adam's waist. Your lips are still on his.

Adam pulls back from the kiss and asks, "Where did this all of a sudden come from?"

"I wanted to try something new," you say, kissing Adam's jaw and neck. He sighs beneth you.

You slip your hand down to the bulge in his boxer shorts. You rub him gently and he makes a soft growl sound. "Y/N," he says with a soft moan. "Be nice."

In a split second, you decide to be a little tease. You grind down against his bulge and say, "You won't do anything."

He stares up at you as your finally pull off his boxers. You take his erect member and pump him a few times. You line him up with your entrance and he asks, "Are you still taking the pills?"

"I got an implant to make it easier on myself," you admit. "I kept forgetting to take the pills."

Adam laughs and you smile. Adam's laughs turn into soft sighs as you lower yourself onto him, his length slowly beginning to fill you. You throw your head back as you wait a second before you move. Your hands are on his chest to keep your balance as you begin to move.

Both of you let soft sighs leave your lips. Adam's thumb finds it's way to your clit as you move your hips. You moan softly as you move your hips faster. Adam's other hand is on your waist, helping you move.

He sits up a bit, propping himself up on one arm. His thumb is still rubbing your clit. You wrap your arms around his neck and your fingers are in his hair. His lips are on your collarbone.

His lips make their way up to your jaw. He says softly, "Keep going. You're making me feel so good."

Adam’s praises give you the confidence to move faster. His tip hits your g-spot and you gasp.

You lean down and kiss Adam softly as you move.

Your walls clench around Adam’s length. He moans into the kiss softly as you both reach an orgasm.

His name falls from your lips as you release around him and he releases his seed into you. You both fall into the bed beside each other.

The kissing doesn’t stop. You messily makeout with Adam as you both catch your breath. Your hands both roam each other’s bodies as your lips move messily against each other.

Adam is the first to pull away from the messy kiss. You look at him and he says, “So, we’re together now?”

“Take me out on a date first and we’ll see,” you tease.

He laughs and kisses you one more time before he pulls you into his arms. You bury your face into his neck and smile against his skin before dozing off a few moments later. Adam soon follows you and dozes off too.