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lumosinlove · 5 months

Text

Vaincre

June part i

Hope you all enjoy! Maybe all of Finn's superstitions in this chapter can go towards helping me beat this cold I've got...

Also, it's beginning to look a lot like ficmas...doo doo doo doo doo...:)

Ain’t it funny how I’ve wanted this all my life?

It started with a no look pass. That’s when Remus felt the buzz. Sirius had nearly put one in from James, who had kept his eyes straight ahead, drawing Saint’s attention. And it had almost worked. At least it had brought the promising feeling of a win. The click of the team. Remus shouldn’t be thinking like that. They were six minutes away from the first period's horn and this game changed at the drop of a hat. Logan had collided with Kota at one point, and there was something there now. Quiet hostility. A they were mine first type of deal. Remus could see it all over Logan’s face, no matter how much Kota loomed over him.

Now the Rangers had a high sticking penalty. Remus took his mouth guard out as the whistle blew and shoved it into his glove. Sirius was on the other side of the ice, on the tail of one of the referees and talking a mile a minute, gesturing to James and his bloody lip. There was a kid at the glass just behind him with a sign that said Nuts for Knutty! and he was still clutching the puck Leo had thrown him earlier. Remus almost wished the game would just pause for a moment so he could take it in properly. If this was to be the last game of his first season in the NHL, he wanted to remember it.

“Ouch,” Remus said to James as they circled close for the face-off.

“You bet,” James said, dabbing at his mouth.

Coach kept him on for the penalty kill. Sirius faced off against Zibanejad and Remus darted backwards when he won it. It had that game six feeling: All of them just wanting it to be over already, the slog of knowing that, if the Lions wanted it to go their way, they had one more full game stretch after this one to push through. Maybe more. Play-offs meant there was no over-time, and no shoot-out, just endless periods until someone gave in.

The puck was stuck in their zone and Thomas was beginning to look gassed. Kasey was up in the net, shifting with every ebb and flow of the Rangers’ passing. Remus poked the puck out from Kakko’s grasp and hoped it was clean—he’d nearly felt like he’d hooked it, but the whistle didn’t go. He managed to get it out of the zone and saw Thomas and Olli race off towards the bench gratefully.

He and Sirius didn’t say anything once they were seated next to each other, just caught their breath and watched. Pascal delivered a sound slap-shot, but it went just wide. Logan got the rebound, easy, and sent it to Fox. The horn went just before they put anything real together.

“D’accord,” Sirius said, tapping Remus’ thigh. “We’re not good, but we’re not bad.”

“What an endorsement.”

Remus handed off his gloves off to be dried as they walked down the tunnel. He could hear fans shouting their names as they passed by the glass that looked into the VIP lounge. There was a small girl standing there in a BLACK jersey. Remus watched as Sirius smiled down at her and touched his glove to the glass. The girl grinned and a woman who Remus thought must be her mother promptly burst into tears.

“Jesus.” Thomas laughed from behind him.

“Just me, actually,” Sirius said, and Thomas shoved him.

The locker room already had music playing so Remus guessed that Coach had decided to let them be, or perhaps Sirius had requested a players only break. Remus sat back in his stall and yanked his helmet off. He cut through the beat up tape of his stick with a short blade and sent a look towards Leo, who had a towel around his neck. He was leaned in close to Kasey, who was talking quietly to him.

“Kind of thought Coach was going to say something,” Thomas said. “Is Cap…”

“I didn’t hear him ask,” Remus said, but looked towards Sirius. He was glancing towards the door, too. It opened, and Remus expected Arthur or one of the assistants, but to his surprise, Alex O’Hara slipped through. He was in full gear, only a backwards hat replacing his helmet.

“Oh,” Remus breathed. He looked towards Kasey and Leo. Oh.

“What the hell,” Thomas said. He opened his mouth, obviously ready to shout something at Alex, but Remus put a hand on his thigh to stop him. Thomas looked over at him. “What?”

Kasey had already seen Alex and Remus watched his chest rise and fall in a quick, uneven breath. He put a hand on Leo’s knee, gave him a short smile, and then stood just as Alex reached him. Alex put a hand on his waist, but they said nothing. Kasey simply held his gaze for a long moment, and then turned to the room.

Oh.

“Hey, boys,” Kasey said, voice raised. “Boys, can I…” He’d taken some of his padding off, his hair pushed back from his face. “Can I talk for a second?”

It took everyone a moment to quiet down. They were a little surprised, maybe. Kasey wasn’t one to make speeches, even if it was a players only meeting, but he walked slowly to the center of the locker room.

“Sorry,” he smiled, but it was shaky. “I know we’re all focused on the W. I’ll be quick.”

“Don’t worry, Bliz. What’s up?” Sirius said, and Remus saw that his gray eyes were already somber. They darted to Remus’. If Remus had to guess, Kasey had asked Sirius to keep the room clear for him. Maybe even to have someone get Alex.

“Well. Thanks, Cap.” He looked around at them all. “Look, I know our season’s not over, boys, but I just wanted to say…God.” Kasey cleared his throat, looked down so his hair fell back into his face some. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay, Kase,” Alex said softly from just behind him.

Remus couldn’t describe how difficult it was, watching Kasey, Kasey of all people, get choked up. Watch him work to speak around tears. He watched some of the others realize what was probably about to happen. Thomas’ face fell. Leo stood, like he was going to go to Kasey.

“There, uh,” Kasey cleared his throat, tried for a smile. “There isn’t much I love more than you guys. Really. These years have just been the best of my life.”

“Bliz…” James breathed, took a step forward. The realization was slow around the room, but it was there. This had been in the air for so long that it felt strange to see it properly.

“Really, they have.” Kasey said. “I mean…God, lock me in this room, see if I put up a fight. I won’t. But. But it’s not good for me. I don’t want out of this game, I really don’t, I just—my body can’t do it anymore, boys. And I have to see that. I have to respect it.”

Remus put a hand to his chest. It was the strangest thing, he couldn’t remember ever having any sort of conversation like this one with his college teammates. Sometimes, he thought he had forced himself to forget moments from that time. Pushed them out of his mind. Now, he tried to remember. He tried to think of saying goodbye, or good game, or even being in the locker room with his sling. He couldn’t remember, but he wanted to help Kasey and so he tried. All that came was a blur of pain and dark rooms and a young, young Julian.

“I just…I have a feeling that…” Kasey wiped at his eyes. “Fuck. I know I shouldn’t have done this in the middle of a fucking—elimination game, oh my God.” It drew a small laugh out of most of the team. “You know, this isn’t gonna be our final game of the season, no fucking way, but it could be mine because it’s hard out there and—” His voice pitched up and he cleared his throat. “And I didn’t want it to happen, I didn’t want it to end, without everyone knowing, which is probably—maybe at one point in my life I would’ve called that selfish but I don’t think it is now.”

And then Leo was at his side, hand on his shoulder. He was crying, too, blue eyes vivid.

Kasey smiled and wrapped an arm around him. “And look whose fucking hands you’re in, all right? You’re good as golden.”

There was a heartbeat of silence. No one seemed to know what to say. Leo hugged Kasey, eyes closed and fisting the back of his jersey. Sirius walked forward next, and it seemed to break the spell.

“Don’t tempt me about locking you in here, Bliz,” Thomas said as he strode forward. “I just might do it.”

Kasey laughed as Thomas pulled him into a tight hug. He thumped Kasey on the back. “You going back out with us, right?”

“I want to,” Kasey said. “I think I can.”

“We’ll get this for you,” Sirius said. He put a hand on Kasey’s shoulder. “This is still yours, all of it. No matter what. You know that.”

Kasey looked at Sirius for a long moment. “Cap. Thank you. I don’t think my career would be the same without you.”

Sirius brow drew together and he shook his head. “Non. It’s all you, man.”

His eyes went behind Sirius. “And Dumo…” He pressed his lips together, unable to finish. “I…You’re…”

“Bliz,” Pascal smiled softly. “I’m probably not too far behind you in this case. I know that.”

Remus walked forward and put a hand on Sirius’ back.

“All I can say is that it’s an honor to play with you at our backs,” Pascal said.

Someone let out a whoop, and then they room was sort of clapping, sort of crying, and at least one strand of tension broke.

“I’m feeling a group hug,” Thomas said. “No, Cap, don’t pull that look on me. C’mon. Everyone, get your ass up.”

Remus couldn’t help but laugh, tearful as it was as he let Sirius wrap him up on one side, Thomas on the other. Timmy, Olli, Kota, Leo, Kris, Pascal.

There was a little jostle after a moment as a final person enthusiastically joined.

“Alex,” Pascal said without opening his eyes. “You should absolutely be here, but get your elimination game Ranger blue out of our hug.”

“My bad.”

Finn didn’t like being home alone. He didn’t like that he couldn’t watch the game. He didn’t like saying goodbye to Leo and Logan, knowing they weren’t going to the same place—or even if they were, to different teams. He wanted to be in the room. He wanted to play, he wanted the burn of his muscles. He wanted to press his shoulder up against Logan’s, or Alex’s, he wanted to defend Kasey and fight anything that even touched Leo.

Instead he was sitting on the couch with all the lights off and the shades down, listening to the crackle of the radio broadcast come from his computer with the screen turned away from him. He was waiting for period two to start, not in the tunnel to the ice, but when a a plate of what felt like the first truly solid food he’d eaten in weeks. Logan had given him a big kiss when he’d asked for Leo’s spicy chicken and rice burritos. Leo and hummed away happily in the kitchen making them and served him one with a gentle kiss to his forehead.

Okay, being taken care of wasn’t that hard.

His phone rang and he knew it was his mom without having to check.

“Hi,” he said around a mouthful, flipping the screen down towards the couch.

“Hi, baby. Just checking in. Fast game, huh? You doing okay? Eating dinner?”

“Mhm, I’m good. I mean—you know. As good as I can be. Listening.”

“Aw, sweetheart. I know.” He could hear the buzz of the stadium behind her, picked out Natalie’s laugh. “I know this isn’t how you pictured it at all.”

Finn sat back against the couch. “Yeah. Did you see Al?”

“For a second before the game. And Logan. He said that if we talk to you during the game to say he loves you.”

Finn smiled. “Mm. Good. How’s Leo looking on the bench?”

“Oh, they showed just the cutest shot of him like a little turtle—well, no a very tall turtle, with his mouth and nose in his jersey. But he seems good. Kasey seems good, too. He’s made some incredible saves.”

“They sound incredible,” Finn said. “Got your whiskey?”

She laughed. “Oh, you know it. Oh, baby, we’re starting. Gotta go, but I love you very much all right? Your dad, says so, too.”

“Love ya, bud!” came his dad’s voice from a little farther away.

Finn, honestly, felt a little choked up. He blinked the tears away and looked around the dim room. They would only make his head ache. “Love you guys, too.”

He heard the phone disconnect and rested his head back against the couch, suddenly not so hungry anymore. He wrapped his plate up for later and squinted an eye shut at the bright refrigerator light. He put the kettle on—could nothing be easy while using one hand?—and steeped some mint tea. When he came back to the couch, throwing a blanket over his legs, the commercials were over.

No, let’s be honest, if Kasey Winter hadn’t made those saves in the first—I don’t know where the Lions would be right now. Sitting in their dressing room and making fucking long summer plans, that’s for sure. Instead, this is a close game, a competitive game, and most importantly, both teams are still in the game.

I agree with you, Matt. Let’s go to the bench now, for an interview with Rangers’ Logan Tremblay.

“Oh, hi, baby,” Finn said softly.

Thanks, Matt. This is Cassie Baker here with Logan Tremblay—

Finn sat bolt upright. He knew—He knew that voice. Cassie. God. Cassie fucking Baker.

Logan, how do you think this period is going to shape up based on how aggressive that first period was so far?

“Holy fuck.” Finn couldn’t help but laugh. “Holy fuck?”

To Logan’s credit, he sounded just as shocked, as if he’d simply turned around and found Cassie there waiting for him. Cassie Baker. Finn remembered bouncing blonde curls and that god-damn Greek temple of the girl’s sorority house at school. Logan kissing her neck in the hallway. Harz, can we have the room for a bit? Coming back from a cancelled class and hearing—

Finn put a hand over his mouth and laughed again. “Okay. Oh man.”

I think we are two teams that want this badly, Logan was saying. Oh, he sounded so good. It’s going to be a fight, but hopefully entertaining for the fans.

How does it feel to possibly have the chance to eliminate your old team?

“Oh no,” Finn let himself fall sideways into the couch, right onto his shoulder. “Fuck.”

Logan’s laugh, disbelieving, still surprised, filled the room. Um. Intense.

Thanks for the time.

I—thanks.

Finn sat back up, holding his shoulder. Never had he ever wanted to talk to them more. He wanted to see Logan’s face. He wanted to see Leo with his chin tucked down against his chest. He didn’t want Leo sitting on the bench alone all game, watching the others work.

Zibanejad and Black on the face-off. The Rangers have a majority of these under their belts now, but Black wins in and it’s knocked back to Lupin. Remus Lupin, quite the surprise, the secret weapon, there are Olympic rumors, and Walker brings it right to the net—and scores! Oh, this game finally has some action!

“That makes one of us,” Finn said aloud to the room. He wasn’t sure he usually talked to himself this much. Maybe it was only that he couldn’t actually remember the last time he’d been alone. The hospital room, he guessed, but even that had been for mere minutes, not hours. He tugged the blanket farther up his chest and pressed his nose into his sweatshirt. Leo’s. He held his mug close to his face. The mint. Logan’s.

Dumais to Reyes, oh, in a near miss! It’s pitched out of the zone by Fox and picked up again by Goodrow—

Finn winced as the thought that he didn’t care who won the game filtered into his mind. He just wanted them to come home.

Luke caught onto Logan’s look the second he was sat back on the bench, breathing hard.

“What,” Luke said. “What the fuck’s that look?”

Logan wasn’t sure where to begin. He risked another glance towards the ice tunnel. Cassie was standing there with the cameraman. She looked the same. Her hair was a shiny dark blonde, blue eyes bright, forget-me-not. She carried herself the same. She was talking fast to the cameraman, directing him with her hand that wasn’t holding her microphone. Confident. Easy. She dressed differently. Smart, well-tailored navy suit that made her short frame look taller. Their eyes met, and she sent him another nervous smile.

“Fuck,” Logan said. He flashed a quick one back and turned away.

“What?” Luke asked.

Paul, Rangers PR, had said nothing more than, Tremblay, you’re ESPN’s interview and then Logan had looked up to find…

Hi, Logan. Yeah, probably should’ve warned you a little better… It’s been a while.

Luke punched him in the arm. “Logan.”

“Ex-girlfriend.” Logan swallowed.

“Girlfriend?” Alex asked, perking up. “You, girlfriend?”

“Ouais.”

“Oh my God, show me.”

“The ESPN reporter.” Luke and Alex both whipped their heads around and Logan closed his eyes. “Don’t look.”

Alex ignored him. “The blonde?”

“She’s cute,” Luke said.

“Stop looking.”

“Didn’t she just interview you?” Alex asked.

“Yes.”

“Did you know?”

“Obviously not,” Luke said. “Dude, you look fucking rattled, what did she do to you?”

Logan didn’t really want to think on it now. They had been good. Happy. For months, really. But she hadn’t had all of him, and she’d figured that much out quickly, if not who the rest of his heart was with.

“It’s more… It’s more what I did to her.” Logan shared a glance with Alex. “Or what I felt like I did to her.”

“Huh,” Luke said. “This is transcending bench talk.”

“Ooh,” Alex said. “Big word.”

“Fuck off.” Luke smiled a little, though. “Can you play with your ex-girlfriend watching, Tremzy?”

Logan hit Luke’s helmet with his stick. “Fuck off.”

Alex snorted as he pushed off the bench with Logan when Coach tapped their shoulders. “Are we gonna talk about the Leo Knut tendencies you seem to have always possessed?”

“Big word.” Logan shoved him so hard that he actually fell over, laughing all the way down. That was sure to be on Twitter somewhere later.

And Tremblay shoves O’Hara down. Laughing. Wonder what was so funny.

Finn sighed. “You and me both, bud.”

“Dev!”

Logan caught Luke’s back-pass and found himself trapped in the corner with Pascal, the puck between their two stick blades. Logan laughed a little, thought he heard Pascal do the same, but it was over too quickly to say anything. Logan knocked it out to Luke again who drew his stick right back and slammed it towards the goal. Kasey lunged for it, the odd, acute angle, but it went right under his glove.

“Yeah!” Logan put his hands up with a grin. He tried not to look at Pascal out of the corner of his eye.

He tapped his glove to Luke’s helmet when he skated into the celly, Percy slamming into their other side.

“Fucking finally, eh,” Percy shouted. He bumped his fist against Luke’s chest, then Logan’s. “Killer pass. Gorgeous.”

There was a buzzing in Logan’s ears. The crowd. Faces that were familiar but not from now. It was like someone had put a filter over his life and all the colors were different. His eyes found Leo on the bench. He was watching the replay on the big screen.

With ten minutes left in the second period, it did feel right that they had finally scored. Tied up, one-one. Logan skated to the bench and hauled himself over it, watching Panarin’s line go out.

He squirted water down the back of his neck and hit Luke’s thigh. “Good.”

“Yeah, well.” Luke wiped his visor clean with a towel. “Let’s just try and keep it up and end this round.”

Logan didn’t say anything. There was that feeling again. The one he couldn’t quite admit to himself. It was real once this round was over—or even realer than it was now. He wasn’t a Lion anymore. He was someone who ended the Lions’ season.

Panarin’s shot went wide twice and Trouba shot one over Kasey’s shoulder that got overturned for interference. Kasey stood with his back to the ice while the referees reviewed it. He had his helmet up and his water bottle in hand, but he didn’t drink. Logan knew Alex had gone into the Lions’ room. He knew what Kasey had announced. He wished he had been there. He wished he had known before Alex went so he could come. Kasey might not be on his team anymore, but he was still Kasey. He had wanted to stand next to Leo and hold his hand.

Six minutes left in the second. 1-1.

Logan jumped the boards right as the puck soared into the netting above the glass and the whistle went. Logan headed towards the Lions’ zone, but stopped when no one else did. He looked around.

“What’s up?” asked Will.

“I don’t know,” Logan said, frowning as Coach Arthur held up a T with his hands and Kasey started skating towards the bench. “They’re calling a time out.”

“Come on,” Finn said aloud to the dark room. “Come on.”

The more time went by, the more superstitious he seemed to get. He kept switching up his position on the couch. He’d even taken the computer into the kitchen while he finished his dinner, hoping they might have more luck if he was in a different room. He was putting his plate in the dishwasher when—

And looks like Leo Knut is taking Kasey Winter’s place in goal for the second game in a row.

Finn turned. “Le.”

Why the sudden switch, we’ll have to wait and see but one could only guess that it has something to do with Kasey Winter’s injury struggles this season. Well, recent seasons, I should say. I gotta feel for the guy, he’s one hell of a goalie.

Finn shut the dishwasher with a beep and cursed. As the final minutes of the second period wound down, he tried to picture Leo there. Wary of Logan. Trying to forget that it was Logan. Just number 71.

Tremblay with a high shot. Finn closed his eyes. —Goes wide of Knut. Kakko picks it up.

Finn listened to the third leaning against the kitchen island with his fingers against his lips. Waiting to hear Logan’s name, or Leo’s. LoganLeoLoganLeo, forced to go against each other.

Instead, it felt like all he heard was Remus’.

Lupin has had ten shots on goal alone in these last two periods. None of them have gone in mind you, but that fact is impressive and—oh that’s from Walker straight to Lupin’s tape and carrying, carrying, back to Walker, no look—and he scores! Remus Lupin with a five-hole on a beauty of a no looker from Thomas Walker! He brings it up to 2-1 Lions.

“Yeah!” Finn shouted, rising to his feet. “Fuck yes!”

He wanted to turn on the TV. He wanted to see. He wanted to watch them celebrate, he wanted to skate across the ice and hug Remus because he would have been on the line. He would have. He could have helped.

“Fucking sling,” Finn whispered, tugging at the elastic strap. Most of tea had long gone cold, and he wanted a popsicle to suck on and dull out the ache in his head a little. Or, really, he wanted to close his eyes and go to sleep but he couldn’t do that. Not before the game was through. It was only 9:30 for fuck sake. Though he did find himself wishing that it wouldn’t go to any OT periods. If he stayed standing he’d stay awake.

He paced to the window as the puck battled between zones. Logan was feisty tonight. He’d come close to blows with Kota twice it sounded like. The Rangers went up on a power play when Kota tripped Logan and Finn nearly cheered before remembering that it was the Rangers. Finn walked around the couch as the whistle blew for another Rangers icing. Whoever kept dumping was only doing the Lions a favor.

“C’mon,” Finn mumbled. “I’m tired and I miss you, c’mon.”

Logan on power play one. Logan, Alex. Back to Logan. Finn was too tense, he really wasn’t supposed to be this tense, he was supposed to be firmly relaxing. But Leo. God, Logan and Alex in front of Leo’s net, glove save against Alex, Logan’s shot going wide. Logan was pulling back, Finn could feel it. He was trying, trying, and then seeing Leo. And he was going to get so much shit for it. Finn sat down, rubbed at the back of his neck.

“Fuck,” he whispered. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

He should have been praying for a win, but he was praying for this game to be over.

O’Hara to Tremblay, back to O’Hara—and he scores!

“Yeah!” Finn said then cursed. “I mean, no.” He groaned. He had to stop doing that. “Fuck.”

Alex O’Hara with a very clean tip-in off of an assist from Tremblay, Knut didn’t have a chance. 2-2 now this is a tight game and the scoring has picked up tremendously. The puck drops Jesus Christ, Lupin again! Christ almighty! Lupin again! Right off the face-off! 3-2 Lions!

“Loops!” Finn stood and laughed through the word. They were ahead now. God, the announcer was rambling, the pile up on the ice must be insane, celebrating. There was a short enough amount of time that this could be it, it could be, especially with the crowd the way it was, God, Finn could hear it, he could see it, even if he couldn’t. The pounding of hands on the glass and his teammates shouting right beside him. The way Thomas and Evgeni jumped up and down, making the bench rattle.

There was three minutes to go. They were ahead, and Logan was trying. God, Finn could feel him. The way he moved, the way he breathed. He’d spent his entire career watching him, waiting for him, tracking him even when he couldn’t see him. Catch a pass, catch a mistake. Finish a goal, pretty or dirty. Alex was trying his best but twice they’d gotten their pocket picked by Sirius and it made Finn hide a smile. No one could play with Logan as well as him.

It didn’t stop him from scoring though. Of course it didn’t.

That is one slick wrap-around by Tremblay.

Finn closed his eyes. He wanted that highlight. He wanted it bad.

Knut didn’t look like he even knew where the puck was.

Finn put his head in his hands. He could hear the celebration. “Le. Aw, baby, it’s okay, it’s okay…”

The Rangers even it up again with forty-six seconds on the clock. Oh, the Lions don’t like that. Arthur Weasley doesn’t like that, but he’s used his timeout. Gryffindor will have to figure something out.

“Come on,” Finn whispered. “Come on, boys…”

It was a blur of phrases and images playing behind his closed eyes.

God, impossible save by Knut! He’s gonna get famous for that poke-check of his, we saw it last play-offs, and look’s like we’ll be seeing more of it—

Finn wanted to be there to scoop the puck up from Leo’s waiting stick, clear of the blue paint. He wanted to feel Leo at his back, defending him, letting him risk a more risky pass.

The clock had to be dangerously low now and Finn’s head ached with how he was squeezing his eyes shut, but he couldn’t help it. He was so tired.

Knocked away by Knut, hard shot by Trouba—

“Good.” Finn whispered, thumb nail between his teeth. “Good, Le…”

What a take away by Black and he’s going—Lupin catches up with him and it’s two on one, Black and Lupin against Luke Deveaux—Black sends it over to Lupin, Lupin back to Black, and a third time—GOAL! Goal! Goal!

Finn shouted. There weren’t any words in it, but a sheer sound of relief and joy.

Lupin with the hat trick! Hat trick! With twelve seconds on the clock! Twelve seconds! Three goals all scored within—Jesus, how long?—that’s insane, that is just magnificent, insane—

Remus heard the crowd. Deep, collective—for a split second, he thought they were booing. But then he pieced it together, right as Sirius slammed into his chest and shouted right in his ear. Not boos.

Loops.

My God, Remus Lupin is on fire tonight. God, what a shot! What a shot, this place is going wild. This place is on its feet because the Lions are going to a game seven. I repeat, the Gryffindor Lions are taking the New York Rangers to a game seven—

Long, drawn out, Loops and then reorganizing into a chant, and then dissolving into cheers. Hats showered them. Completely, it felt like. Raining, pouring, drenching the ice in hats. So many Remus wondered how all of them made it to the ice. He couldn’t stop laughing. He thought maybe he was crying a little.

“Game winner!” Thomas was shouting. “Game fucking winner, fucking winner, fucking natty hatty, oh fuck, Remus!”

“Jesus, what’s in your water, Lupin!” Percy Marshall shouted from near Saint’s goal.

He just looked up at Sirius. Sirius laughed and then ducked down and kissed Remus’ cheek—or tried, but it was really just their visors knocking together. “I love you. I love you, love you, I love you so much—”

“Julian,” Remus said. “You think Jules saw?”

Sirius just pressed their visors together, while Thomas all but crowed to the sky. “Yeah, baby, Jules saw.”

Remus looked up towards the Lions box as he skated towards the bench, as he skated down the line tapping gloves. He couldn’t see much, but he would have been able to pick out that wildly jumping figure any place, any time.

Logan went looking for Cassie. He wouldn’t deny it. He smoothed his wet hair back from his face and tugged at his tie. He smiled shakily at a few members of the press who passed him on their way to the pressroom to write their stories. Post-game interviews had been rough. You guys could have had it, what will you do differently to pull through next game?

It was a fairly normal question. Definitely expected. The hard part, Logan guessed, was answering it truthfully—even to himself. Pulling through meant taking the Lions out, and Logan couldn’t think about that too hard.

But even worse: You seemed to have…bad puck luck when Knut came into goal. What do you think happened?

Logan could have punched the guy who asked that. He’d stared at him hard enough to make him take a step back anyway.

“Tremzy!”

Logan turned fast. Katie, flying towards him full-force, in Rangers blue with TREMBLAY on her back. Pascal had sent him the video—Katie bawling her eyes out and refusing to move until the removed her father’s jersey and gave her a Tremblay one.

Pascal wasn’t too far behind her and grinned as Logan caught Katie up in his arms.

“Salut, Petit. Oh, what are you wearing?” Logan propped her on his hip and pressed a kiss to her cheek. “Is that all for me?”

She patted his tie. “You didn’t win. Papa won.”

“C’est une tragédie, apparently,” Pascal said. “We cannot go home until she finds you, you know.”

“Non, me neither.” Logan smiled at him and tilted his and Katie’s heads together. He switched to French. “I need my little cabbage fix before dinner…”

Katie shrieked out a laugh, knowing what was coming, and Logan dipped her upside down to kiss her cheek with nom noises before bringing her upright again.

“Didn’t you like the Lions hat trick? All the hats on the ice.”

Katie shook her head, brandishing the wrist with her charm bracelet at him like a sword. “Non. I like when you get goals.”

“Ouch,” Pascal said wryly.

Katie put a hand on top of Logan’s head. “Is Harzy okay?”

“Ouais,” Logan said. “He’s doing much better. He misses you.”

“Where’s Leo?”

“I’m going to find him right now.”

She squished Logan’s cheeks between her small palms. “Does he have banana bread?”

“Not with him, I don’t think.”

Katie frowned. “Oh.” Then, she promptly squeezed her arms around his neck and put her head on his shoulder. “I love you.”

“Aw,” Logan said. “I love you, too.”

Pascal mouthed, she’s going to fall asleep, and Logan nodded, half-sure that she already was. He put a hand on her back. She was so warm, so delicate in his arms. He used to be afraid of that, holding onto her too hard. “Past your bedtime, hm?”

They stood silently in the hallway together for a moment. Logan thought of the warm living room at the Dumais house. The boys muting their video game on the TV. Katie sleeping against his chest. Noelle passing him embroidery floss colors to pick out so she could make him a bracelet.

“I don’t think I’ll get used to seeing you in blue,” Pascal said softly, stroking back Katie’s hair, then, after a moment of hesitation, mussing Logan’s gently.

“Me neither,” Logan replied roughly. God, how many homes could one person be homesick for at once?

“No matter what happens next game,” Pascal said. “We love you. You know that, right?”

“Ouais.”

“You won’t beat yourself up.”

“Non.” He sighed. “Well, not too bad. I’m worried about Leo.” He sighed. He had to tell someone. “It’s been hard. This, Finn, Kasey…”

“Archer,” Pascal finished hesitantly.

“Logan?” said a voice.

Logan looked to see Cassie at the other end of the hallway. She gave him a small wave, looking uncertain as to whether she should approach or not.

“Ah,” Pascal said. “I thought you knew her.”

“Quoi.” He smiled back at her, held up a finger. One second.

“You looked, ah, how did Sirius put it…Freaked.”

“I’m not.”

“Here,” Pascal said, reaching out for Katie.

“Wait, wait, wait—” Logan began to say, but Pascal just arched a brow.

“You do not need to hold my daughter for every tough conversation you have.”

Logan rolled his eyes, but eased the sleepy Katie into her father’s arms.

“Go talk to a girl. That can’t be too difficult for you.”

“Dumo.”

Pascal just smiled. “Oh, and guess what?”

Logan sighed. His arms felt cold and too light without Katie in them. “What?”

“Leo is going to be okay. You three are going to be fine.”

Pascal touched Logan’s cheek briefly, then turned away, murmuring softly to Katie.

“Remus!”

Remus dropped everything he was holding—his glove, a roll of tape, a tennis ball, and his mouth guard—to turn around and get a stumble-inducing hug by his little brother.

“Did you get any of the hats!” Julian asked. “Oh my God!”

“I think they’re in a bunch of buckets somewhere,” Remus said, and held on tighter even when Jules made to pull back. “No, one more second.”

“I have to see Sirius, too!”

“He didn’t get a hat trick.” Remus squeezed Julian until he gasped for air.

“Death by hug,” Julian coughed out, but he squeezed Remus just as tightly back. “It was so cool, Re.”

“Thanks. It felt pretty cool.” He put his hands on Julian’s shoulders and pulled back. “I can get you a hat if you want a hat. Can’t promise to know whose head it was on, though.”

Julian laughed. “I don’t need a hat.” Remus still sort of wanted to get him a hat. He wanted to get Julian anything he could ever possibly want.

Julian shook Remus lightly by his shoulder pads. “Game seven! Did you always think you were going to go to a game seven!”

Remus shrugged, patting his stall for Julian to sit in. “I don’t know if Captain Superstitious over here would have allowed such a thought to cross my mind.”

“Wow,” Sirius said, stripping off his chest pads and grabbing his towel for a shower. “You make me sound insane.”

Julian and Remus shared a look.

“You might be a little.” Julian pinched his fingers. “Tiny bit insane.”

Sirius rolled his eyes, but tussled Julian’s hair before walking away.

“Hey.” Remus nudged his his foot against Julian’s shin. “You okay here for a second if I shower so we can all get some ice cream before it’s after midnight?”

Julian’s eyes lit up—either at the mention of ice cream or at the prospect of being left to his own devices in the locker room.

“Oh, I’ve got him,” Thomas said. He was wearing his suit pants and shrugging on a white button down. “Noelle chose to go see the Rangers so I, too, am abandoned.”

“Oh my God,” Jackson said from beside him. “She said she’d be back in two minutes after seeing her loser brother.”

“Watch it,” Leo called, passing by.

“Two whole minutes.” Thomas tisked. “Nado, I don’t know what to do with myself without that girl around anymore. Copy?”

“Good luck,” Remus said to Julian, and stripped off his own padding to head to the showers.

James was singing—horribly—but Sirius had secured them the two corner showers. Remus’ favorite. The hot water felt good, but Sirius’ gaze on him felt better. Remus smiled as he closed his eyes and tilted his head back to wash his hair.

“I can feel you thinking,” Remus said.

“If we were alone, you could feel—”

“Oh I’m sure.”

“Well, I was thinking about taking you into another private corner but your little brother was looking at me.”

Remus reached for the shampoo. “This is true.” He looked over his shoulder. “I don’t see him anywhere now.”

Sirius sent a pointed look at James and the few other of their teammates showering around them.

“What?” Remus said with a grin. “I just want a kiss.”

Sirius watched him for a moment, and Remus let himself admire the way the water made his dark hair and eyelashes ever darker. The way the droplets made his tan skin shine. Finally, Sirius went so far as to settle a hand on Remus’ bare, wet hip, and kissed his cheek.

“I love you,” Sirius whispered against Remus’ skin.

“I love you, too.”

“The noodles!” Evgeni shouted, ducking beneath a shower head across the room.

“He means canoodle,” Jackson said.

Sirius ignored them. “I want to re-watch that game.”

“Is that all?”

“No. It’ll never be all with you. I’ll always want you more.” Another soft kiss to his temple. “And more, and more.”

“You fucker,” Alex said into his phone, wedged between his shoulder and ear as he tied his dress shoes.

“Ha-ha,” Finn replied. “It was all me.”

“Oh, we’ll get your boys next game.” Alex said.

“Will you now?” Finn said. “You sure about that?”

“Pretty damn sure, I’d say. Lupin can’t be that hot every night.”

“Ha, but Sirius Black can.”

“Bleh.” Alex straighten with a sigh. “I hate how true that is.”

“Hey, Al?”

Alex took his phone, switching ears. “Yup?”

There was a bit of a pause, long enough that Alex looked at the screen to make sure that Finn was still there. It made him nearly miss his first couple words.

“If you can,” Finn’s voice said. “Try not to let Lo take any winning shots against Leo.”

Alex’s smile dimmed. His eyes moved over to Kasey, who was leaning against the wall through the locker room doorway with Natalie, waiting for him. She said something with a smile and he nodded in his soft way, playing with the diamond ring on her finger.

“It’ll hurt them both, I think,” Finn finished softly. “Maybe ask Deveaux, too. If you can.”

“I don’t know if I can help that, Finn,” Alex said.

“I know.” Finn’s sigh crackled like wind. “I know. Yeah, I know.”

“Hey,” Alex said. “But I love you, little Fish.”

There was a beat of silence. “All right, I’ll let that slide just this once.”

Alex smiled.

“Love you, too.”

“Hi,” Cassie said.

Logan’s words got stuck for a second.

She had taken her suit jacket off and her white shirt underneath was crisp and clean. Logan remembered her in low tank-tops and knee-high boots. His Harvard sweatshirts and tiny cotton shorts, stretching in his bed and going to his window to check if it was raining. Yes, he had loved Finn for most of their time together, but that didn’t mean he hadn’t appreciated Cassie. She was kind and fun and, God, had she ever taught him what he liked. She had been a little wild like that. He had a flash of a steamed up car window, her uneven breathing against his cheek, her hand fisting the hair at the back of his neck.

“I…hi.”

She smiled, then shrugged and wrapped her arms around his neck. “Hi.”

He laughed. “Hi.” She felt the same and he automatically squeezed her waist like he used to. “I—sorry about—I mean on the bench.” They pulled apart. “I was—I wasn’t expecting—”

“No, that’s so on me, I didn’t give you, like, any warning. This is kind of a new promotion for me. I mean, not kind of.” She rolled her eyes, laughing. “It is.”

“Congrats.”

“Thanks.”

“Well—wow, I have to tell Finn.”

“Oh, Finn. I always adored him.”

“He’s good. Uh and, oh, Will and Percy are here, did you…”

“Saw them on the bench, but haven’t gotten to say hi yet.” She tilted her head, teasing. “Didn’t think I was just waiting for you, did you?”

Logan laughed. “Uh, non, definitely not.”

“But it is really good to see you. Really, really good. Seriously, though, is Finn doing okay? That was really hard footage to watch.”

Try being there. “Yeah. He’s—he’s better. He’s getting better. He might be at the next game in New York, if he gets cleared. Not dressed, but, still. Not having to sit in the dark.”

“Right.” Cassie nodded sympathetically. “God, that happened to him in college, didn’t it?”

Twice. Logan nodded. He didn’t expect her to remember. They’d been broken up by the second.

“Well, then I hope I get to say hi.”

Logan wasn’t sure how to talk about Finn with Cassie. She’d broken up with him over Finn, even though she hadn’t known it was Finn at the time. She’d thought it was another girl, just someone else taking up Logan’s attention. By the conflicted look on her face, it looked like she knew now.

“Um.” Cassie tucked her hair behind her ears then crossed her arms. “Listen. This is probably not the time and definitely not the place but I’m not sure—I kind of just have to say this if you don’t mind.” She glanced down the hallway, but they were alone. “I think I was kind of…I know I was hard on you when we broke up…”

Logan shook his head. He swallowed, trying to force the words out quickly. “Non. Non, I don’t think you were hard on me. If anyone was hard on someone, it was me on you. I mean…now you know that…that Finn and I?”

“Were you together then?” she asked, then her eyes widened. “God. No. Jesus, you don’t have to tell me that. That was so rude, wow. I’m sorry.” She laughed a little. “We don’t see each other for years and—”

“We weren’t,” Logan said, but then it was his turn to laugh a bit. “Well—Merde. I mean. We were… We loved each other then. But we…” How to even say it? “We thought we couldn’t.” No, that wasn’t it. “I thought we couldn’t.”

“You seriously don’t owe me an explanation,” Cassie said. “Logan, I was trying to apologize. The second I heard about you and Finn—I mean, I think I just saw a photo of you two on Twitter or something, or Instagram?—but I remembered our fight like it was yesterday and…”

“You thought I was cheating on you. And in a lot of ways you were right. You had ever right to be mad at me.”

“I…I know that now. But I loved you, and I shouldn’t have said all those horrible things.” She let out a breath. “I didn’t mean them. It’s just that I really, really loved you.”

Logan wouldn’t have said any of his heart still belonged to Cassie, but right then it felt like part of it might, in some way. It broke all over again for the two of them. For the quiet mornings and for looking up into the bleachers at games and seeing her there, wearing his sweater. For all the times she’d gone quiet and let him think about what he wanted to say, when she was always so bright and sudden for everyone else.

“Anyway,” she sighed. “I just didn’t know when I would see you again and, you know, knock on wood you’ll be too busy celebrating next game, and I wanted to say that I’m sorry. And that I’m happy for you. You and Finn.”

“I’m sorry, too,” Logan said. “I didn’t deserve you. I was trying to figure me out and…and I feel like I used you but, for the record, I did love you, too. Maybe not like you loved me, but.”

Cassie smiled. “Yeah?”

Logan smiled back. “Ouais.”

“Oh.” Cassie shook her head fondly. “God, I missed your French.”

Logan was laughing when he heard Leo’s voice from behind him.

“Lo?”

Logan turned and found him standing there, handsome in his navy suit. He looked between them hesitantly.

“Le,” Logan held out a hand to him. “Soleil, this is Cassie. Cas, this is my boyfriend, Leo.”

Cassie smiled, then looked alarmed, then smiled again. “Uh. Wait. Um. I mean, hi.”

“There’s two of them,” Logan said and took Leo’s hand. “Finn. Leo.”

“Two?”

“Two.”

Cassie looked between them for a moment, then shrugged. “Jesus, I can’t even find one. You were so great in the third, Leo, it’s nice to meet you.”

“Oh,” Leo said, a little dazed. Logan tried not to watch too closely as Leo looked Cassie up and down. “Well, thanks, pleasure to meet you. How do you two…”

Logan squeezed Leo’s fingers. “Cas and I were at school together—we…well, we…”

“Dated,” Cassie finished for him with a grin. “For a little while. But then again, I never got called the sun by this one so who’s counting it really.”

Leo looked down at Logan and Logan was so proud of the happy look in those blue eyes he could have kissed him. “No?”

“Nope,” Cassie said. “But I can see why you do.”

“Casss-ieee,” came Percy’s voice from behind them, and then the thump of him running down the hall. He didn’t even hesitate, not even when it had been years, before scooping her up in a hug. She shrieked, but let him spin her once and press a kiss to her cheek.

“Oh my God, will you not ever grow up Percy Marshall?”

Percy just grinned at her. His suit was wrinkled, as usual, and he towered over her, but he looked down at her smile like he was looking up to the blue sky. “Not a chance, Cassie Baker. Not with you to impress.”

“It’s been too long since I’ve been subjected to your flirting.”

“Well.” Percy released her and stuck his hands in his pockets. “Who knows. Maybe I really mean it this time.”

Logan felt Leo nudged him, hip against hip, and Logan leaned his head against his shoulder.

“Home?” Leo whispered.

“Ouais.”

Logan thwacked Percy upside the head as they passed by. “See you next game, Cas?”

“Count on it,” Cassie called, and when she wasn’t looking, Percy mouthed Cassie fucking Baker to him over her shoulder with a lovesick expression on his face.

“So, you dated her,” Leo said. He was trying very hard not to smile.

“Oasis,” Logan said. “But…” He reached up as they walked and traced a blond wave of Leo’s hair, then the gray streak. “I was obviously looking for you.”

“You know Hannah looks just like you, right?”

“What? Non.”

Leo laughed. “Logan Tremblay. Look alive, hot stuff—oh.” Leo’s phone pinged. “Gee, wonder who that could be.”

Please come home I talking to myself (sent with Siri)

Also the doctor is emailed I clear for traveled with to you so New York! Sirius send happy emoji no smile emoji no send smile (sent with Siri)

Leo snorted, Logan let out a loud laugh, then they had to take a minute, leaning against each other with silent laughter.

“What’s wrong with you two?” Remus asked as he passed by with Sirius and Julian.

“Sirius,” Logan gasped. “Send smile emoji.”

Leo crouched, hiding his face against Logan’s hip as his shoulders shook.

Sirius just shook his head and tugged on Remus’ hand. “You need to go home.”

“Send smile emoji!” Logan shouted after him.

Sirius just looked back at him. “What the fuck, Tremz.”

“I’ve got him,” Leo laughed, wrapping an arm around Logan’s shoulder. “C’mon, Harz is talking to himself, we better go save him.”

“He always talks to himself.”

“I don’t think he knows that.”

Leo just hummed in agreement. “She seemed nice.”

“She is,” Logan said.

“This is the girl you mean when you say college girlfriend, right?”

“Mhm,” Logan nodded, and took Leo’s hand again as they walked into the stairwell that led to the parking lot. It smelled like summer. Heat and humidity. Leo stripped off his suit jacket to drive and threw it in the back seat with their bags.

When they were turning the engine on, Logan put a hand over Leo’s. “Le.”

Leo looked up from adjusting his mirrors.

Logan took a breath. He wasn’t sure he actually wanted to talk it all through, but maybe it would get easier. Maybe. And he at least had the short drive home to start. “Want me to tell you about it?” Logan asked softly. “Cassie.”

Leo’s lips parted, surprised. His hair was darker, the ends starting to dry from his own shower. He had taken his tie off, too, and his shirt was open at the neck. Logan reached out and touched the indent of the fleur-de-lis necklace beneath his shirt. It had been passed back and forth between them— Finn had been wearing it for a few days there when he was mostly just sleeping and in pain, but Logan supposed at some point, Finn had slipped it over Leo’s neck again.

“Yeah,” Leo said softly. “I’d like that.”

Logan leaned back in his seat as Leo pulled out of their spot. “I met her my very first night as a Freshman. I didn’t know what I was doing, I didn’t even have bed sheets. I had met Fish, là, twenty minutes maybe before. I scared the hell out of him in our room. But you know that, anyway, Cassie saved me from sitting by myself all night…”

#vaincre lumosinlove #sweater weather lumosinlove #sports au #wolfstar au #o'knutzy #lumosinlove #finn o'hara #Logan tremblay #sirius black #Leo knut #remus lupin #go lions go

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sabokunsmalia · 6 months

Text

𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐆𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃 𝐖𝐀𝐘𝐒; levi ackerman featuring: levi ackerman x thug fem!reader synopsis: you've known levi since his underground days, always by his side and making sure, he feels good before sleeping. content warning: smut, p in v, pet names, choking hi it's malia: no regrets made me do it, just know that.

One leg wrapped tightly around his waist, you allowed him to reach deeper with his harsh thrusts. Tonight, a mission failed because Isabel acted too careless with one of her maneuvers. Instead of bringing back another pile of food, they kept the smallest amount which fit their pockets to save the girl from being captured, and probably murdered.

Among the underground folk, Levi did not trust many people. Trusting the wrong person blindly, could be the easiest death sentence possible. So, Furlan and Isabel enjoyed a close friendship with a talented, young man, who taught them the movements with ODM gear. And then there was you, his most entrusted person, his girlfriend. "Feels so good, Levi," You moaned, almost too loud for th thin walls of the small apartment the group rented.

Face hidden in the crock of your neck, his warm breath fanned along the side of your throat. Puffs of air exhaled against the soft spot underneath your ear, adding another reason to feel like being brought straight to heaven. "Fucking hell, you are so tight," Levi's voice was a mess of raspy tones, the words muttered against your skin inbetween the quiet groans.

But the sweet and adored intimacy did not last long, as Levi pushed his body off yours. A flat hand placed on each side of your head, balancing his weight, he withdraw his hips until only his soft pink tip was left inside your warm cunt.

Corners of the mouth twitched, his lips turning into a satisfied smirk at the sight, you already presented him after such a short time of sex. Oh, how much you loved Levi's kind of genuine smiles. Sadly as the days passed, they vanished more and more from his face. His face was so close but yet so far, as you moved an arm to reach out to him. Slender and soft fingers caressed over his flustered cheek and along the sharp lines of his jaw. "I love you so much,"

You whispered with swollen lips and glossy eyes. The view enough for Levi to feel his dick twitch, and almost making him cum while being halfway inside of you only. The answer you've gotten from him, was a harsh thrust, bullying his entire length inside of you again, without warning. Such words from you released a chained animal inside of him. Eyes, blown-out with lust on both ends, connected in the heated mid-air, as Levi kept on with the relentless pace and deep thrusts, he just started.

Oh, the thief did not know how he deserved such a valuable present. One day, you marched through the underground, beautiful coat wrapped around your slim body while the men around you drooled over your clean appearance. A gang of three tried to jump you that same evening, when Levi and Furlan were around and safely escorted you towards their apartment with the help of ODM gear.

For the first time, you felt safe and a taste of freedom while flying through the air. And since that day, you haven't left Levi's side.

"You take me so good, princess," His words were a simple praise, you have heard more than once by now. But those easy choice of sylabelles had a promising effect on the way your body responded to him. Walls clenching, bottom lip quivering.

It would be insane for anyone from the underground to say that Levi had a sweet or soft side, hidden underneath the cold glare he usually wore. But you knew how much he changed as soon as the door closed. A young adult boy, who simply tried to find his place in this world, and maybe enjoy a second or two of the rebel behavior.

While you expected the unyielding harshness and never faltering speed tonight, after the glare he sent you earlier while entering the apartment, Levi's pace faltered once again. Three to four particular strong ones until he has gotten slower, more sensual. "Look at me," He demanded, leaning on his underarms to be closer to your face. It was one of those moments, where he questioned the world, questioned the future and had to switch his thoughts off.

The best way to do such thing was always to share longing gaze into the beautiful color swirls of your dilated pupils. Enough to keep him in the moment, anchored to the world of reality. But the on-going eye contact weakened your restrains of keeping the control over your orgasm for longer.

Levi memorised in which way his swollen lips had to trail along the span of your prominent collarbones. Following the path of the bone until the soft, unblemished valley between your breasts awaited the sensual kisses of the promised love.

"Shit, you're holding me like a fucking vice," Levi grunted, bathing in the warming grasp of your walls while convincing himself to steadily roll his hips. You haven't given him a signal yet.

Not a scratch of your nails sharp enough to announce your orgasm.

Not the sweet swords tumbling out of your mouth in stutters while the drool escaped the corner and dribbled down the side of your face. But your body offered him the signals he needed. As your breathy screams reached the mellow air stuck in the bedroom, Levi's grunts became slightly louder.

"You're so fuck," He could not finish his compliment, the way you tightened deliciously around his length blew the air out of his lungs in a deep groan. Soft pillow grabbed between his slender fingers, Levi felt how your core milked him without wasting a second. Hips rolling against each other, his somewhat stronger than yours as the ecstasy aftermath vibrated through his spent body.

"So fucking pretty," He muttered between the heavy breaths. Lids closed, the strands of black hair which loosely hung across his eyes, were glued to his sweaty forehead. Panting filled the calmness of the bedroom, the aftermath settling in as Levi offered you a small, but satisfied, smile.

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koshkamartell · 2 months

Text

No One But Me

masterlist

*chapter warnings* - talk of rape, sexual harassment

You didn't reveal what had happened to Oscar, or to anyone else. You kept your word to Joel and did not speak about it. You were still afraid of what he was capable of doing if you did tell someone, if he somehow found out that you told the truth. You felt ashamed and dirty, as if you were deserving of Joel's wrath, that what he did was justified. Maybe you shouldn't have been dancing and drinking so much that night, maybe Joel was right about the men at the bar and their lecherous intentions. After all, you had to defer to Joel's knowledge and extensive life experience when certain subjects were concerned, and this time seemed to be no exception.

Ellie and her happiness were also at the forefront of your mind. You knew that she would be devastated if she discovered how Joel had treated you; the security of her world and a happy family life would be shattered and her heart broken. You couldn't do that to Ellie. Not when you could see so much of yourself reflected in her, that same yearning for a stable and loving family.

Yes, you still loved him, and perhaps a small part of you always will. But he has broken something inside you and you know it can never be repaired or compensated for in any way. Joel had pushed you too far for you to be able to forgive and forget. A bridge has been crossed and there's no returning to how things once were. Where do you go from here? Do you leave him? Joel hadn't accepted that the first time you tried to leave him - would he relent this time?

You tried not to show the inner turmoil you were facing when around others. Working at the school proved to be a good distraction from your thoughts; the young faces of the children, their innocence and wonder at the world, always managed to motivate you to be collected and calm.

However the library shifts proved to be more challenging at times. You were alone more often than not, only the occasional visitor popping in to seek out material on a specialist subject or children wanting to peruse the comics and picture books. Left alone with the whirlwind of introspection inside your head could be tormenting.

Does he really even love me?

What if he does it again?

He's been so sweet and loving lately, maybe he's changed?

Maybe he's realised how much I mean to him?

This fruitless cycle of thoughts was interrupted by the surprise appearance of Oscar at the door, a grin on his face as the bell jingled above him. You felt startled, like you had been caught doing something you weren't supposed to, but you quickly composed yourself.

"Is it weird that I miss that sound?" He chuckled.

"Hey stranger," you greeted him, flashing a smile that didn't quite reach your eyes . "Didn't expect to see you here. How can I help you?"

Oscar smiled at you, his clean shaven face boyish and handsome, and you suddenly felt warmth spread all over your cheeks. Surely you weren't blushing because of Oscar?

He walked to the counter where you stood and plopped his satchel on the counter top. "Mhm. It's lunchtime, so I figured I'd stop by for a visit and we could pretend it's like old times - us eating together, hanging out. What do you say?"

"Oscar, are you sure you wanna spend your work break with me?" You asked dubiously, making a face at him.

"You're kidding me, right?" Oscar arched a thick eyebrow in question. "As far as I'm concerned you're the only person I wanna eat lunch with."

He didn't wait for you to speak any further before he flipped open his satchel and took out some sandwiches wrapped in wax paper and a few pieces of fruit. You looked away from him bashfully and shuffled your feet. You could definitely feel your cheeks glowing now.

"Oh Oscar," you murmur, sighing a little. "I don't deserve this."

"Don't deserve to eat lunch? C'mon," he scoffed.

"No, you know what I mean," you said while smoothing your hands over your skirt, still unable to look at Oscar. "You coming here specially for me."

Oscar proped his elbows ontop of the counter and leaned forward so that his head was craning closer to you, tilting his head in an attempt to catch your gaze.

"Hey, look at me," Oscar implored softly.

You obeyed his request and slowly raised your head up to face him. He was gazing at you with a mixture of confusion and pity on his features.

"Why do you think so little of yourself, when others think so much of you?" Oscar asked quietly.

The question is too raw for you to actually answer. It makes you feel bare, like your insides are being dissected. How can you possibly explain to Oscar that you've carried this low self worth all your life, that it has been rooted into your very core since your parents died, left to pullulate and fester like a disease?

Somehow, you believe Oscar already knows that he isn't actually asking for an answer.

All you can do is shrug awkwardly and look away from him. Oscar sighs and extends his arm over the counter to take hold of your wrist. "Honey, what is it going to take for you to believe just how important you are?" His thumb begins to stroke the fragile spot where your pulse and veins intertwine under the thin layer of skin.

You close your eyes and savour the sensation of his soft hand wrapped around your wrist. "Important to who?" You murmur.

"The children at school. Ellie. Me." Oscar whispers silkily. "Look at me."

You raise your head once more to gaze back at Oscar. He studies your face, his eyes roaming over your features longingly. The tip of his tongue swipes over his bottom lip. "You're a beautiful person, and I'm lucky to have you in my life."

The the lilt of his voice and the passion in his gaze penetrate your heart and send electric like shivers up and down your limbs. "T-thank you, Oscar." You stammer.

He smiles at you, the corners of his eyes crinkling. He gently releases your wrist and stands back upright. "Now, enough of this nonsense. I'm hungry and I want you to tell me everything that's been going on here since I left. Didja finish Bug Science? What about that paperback that old man stole and refuses to give back?"

You can't help but laugh at Oscar's light hearted way of breaking the tension in the room. When he sees you finally smile genuinely, he smiles back with a mix of relief and adoration.

After you finish eating and Oscar has to go back to work, you both agree to a regular lunch date at the lunch every week.

That night you were pacing around Joel's kitchen preparing dinner for when Ellie arrived. She was making a dedicated effort to spend more time with Joel without making him feel awkward; you had suggested that regular dinners together were an uncomplicated way to achieve this, and so naturally Ellie had invited herself over.

You alternate between stirring the pot of stew on the stove and shuffling to the dining room to set the table. You carefully arrange the bowls and cutlery in their places, mindful to give Joel a slightly bigger bowl than you and Ellie, knowing that his appetite was more voracious than either of you, especially after a patrol shift.

The setting reminded you of a tale you had loved as a child - a papa bear, a mamma bear, and a baby bear, all with porridge bowls and furniture corresponding to their sizes. Three bears, a happy family with food and a comfy house. Until an intruder comes and disrupts their carefree life.

What was it again? Ah, yes. Goldilocks and The Three Bears.

Silly stories and fairytales created to entertain and teach children morals and valuable lessons. You only vaguely remember some of them from your childhood. Just like the innocence and curious wonderment of youth, your happy memories had been destroyed by the end of the world, shattered to smithereens.

You want Ellie to be able to experience the things that had been so brutally ripped away from you. You know she's suffered her own share of trauma and horrors in her life, things she hasn't shared with anyone but Joel. You know their bond is what has given them both reason to endure and survive for so long. But Ellie was still young, and now she was safe from whatever was still left in the wild of the world. She deserved her own fairytale.

You know you will have to try your best to mask your melancholy for the upcoming evening. You are about to turn off the stove when you hear the front door rattle open, then the sound of boots stamping at the door. It seems Joel and Ellie have arrived home at the same time.

"Good evening!" Ellie trills as she floats into the kitchen. "What did you make? It smells fucking amazing!"

Your heart lights up to see her bound over to the stove and lean over the pot to take a big whiff of its aroma. She lets out an exaggerated sigh and rolls her eyes.

"I'm sooooo hungry!" Ellie groans. "Work sucked today."

You chuckle and pull her into a hug, brushing a little snow flake from her head. "The goats giving you trouble again?"

Ellie was assigned as a farmhand for her work duties and tended to the goats, chickens and sheep. "It was the sheep this time, lazy fuckers wouldn't listen."

"Didn't do what they were told, huh?" Joel chimes, walking into the kitchen with a smug smile tugging at his mouth.

"You callin' me a sheep, old man?" Ellie pretends to square up into a boxer's stance and raises her fists. You watch the interaction with your fingertips pressed to your lips, hiding your smile. No matter how low you were feeling, being immersed in the domesticity of Ellie's and Joel's company was always entertaining.

"You know what insolent means?"

"Uh, nope," Ellie says with a crinkle of her nose. "Why, that what you're callin' me?"

"Damn right."

Ellie punches his shoulder playfully and then begins a hasty exposition on just why her job is so taxing and why Joel should shut up. You shake your head at her theatrics and slip on some oven mitts before carrying the pot of stew out to the kitchen table.

"And if you actually let me go on patrol I could show those assholes just how badass I am," she laments as she follows behind you and Joel.

"No." He takes his seat at the table. "Too dangerous outside the gate."

Ellie just scoffs loudly and flops down onto her chair. You ladle the stew into the bowls and hand them to Ellie and Joel before serving yourself.

"You gotta teach me how to make this," Ellie mumbles through a mouthful of stew. "Tastes amazing, dude."

You settle into your seat and dip your spoon into the bowl. "Yeah, I can do that."

"How'd you learn how to cook?" Ellie asks between another slurp.

You occupy yourself with slowly stirring your spoon through the vegetables and chunks of lamb floating in your bowl. "I picked up some things from working in the mess hall but I mostly taught myself, through cook books and experimenting. More so experimenting."

"Cool," Ellie says, sounding sincerely impressed. "What's your favourite thing to make?"

"This kind of stew, I guess," you respond quietly, still not meeting her eye. "It's hearty, so it's good for when you're sick. And it reminds me of a dish my mother used to make when I was a kid, so...I find it comforting..." Your voice trails off at the end of your sentence. You never spoke of your mother or father but the words had come rolling from your tongue without thought, leaving you to feel as though you've said too much, been too vulnerable infront of both Ellie and Joel.

"Oh," Ellie murmers. "Well, that's good that's it's good for when you're sick, right? You've been sick alot lately so--"

"Ellie," Joel says low and warning.

A tense silence falls over the dining table. You are sure Joel can read your mind, the automatic internal response that you dare not utter aloud - "I wasn't sick last time, Ellie, I was just hiding my face."

You are thankful when Ellie fills the silence once again and starts talking about her friends and the different adventures she's had lately. You listen but do not talk much, only sometimes expressing a hum of agreement or a noise to indicate your interest. To your surprise, Joel makes an effort to engage with her to ask questions or make comments; it is unusual but refreshing, and you can't help but think Joel is doing it for your sake.

When Ellie excuses herself to go to the bathroom, Joel outstretches his hand to you and tenderly clasps it over yours. He lightly squeezes your small hand in his large one and leaves it there, his thumb making tiny circles over the knuckle of yours, soothing and supplicating. You glance up at Joel but he's staring down at his lap unmoving, and you wonder if it's because he feels too ashamed of himself to look at you.

When Ellie returns to the table Joel doesn't move his hand from yours.

It feels like forever since you've joined the girls for a meal in the mess hall. A few days after Ellies visit, you were greeted by Kate waiting outside the school to surprise you after your shift. Despite being exhausted from the days work her cheeky grin made you laugh.

Truthfully, you hadn't thought much about your friends since the night you had all celebrated Jackson's birthday at the Tipsy Bison. It seemed like the time between then and now had stretched infinitely, the events of that night like a vivid dream that was not real but of which you still could not shake from your memory. Seeing Kate in person and so excited to you makes you feel guilty for not being more involved in your friendship circle.

You sit side by side with Kate and Cassie at one of the dining tables, Rhi and Jess opposite you. You have little to no appetite and even the delicious dinner menu doesn't inspire any hunger from you; you mostly move your spoon aimlessly around your plate, only occasionally taking small bites of food. Rhi has lowered her voice and is recounting a recent incident between her and the blonde ranger she has been pining for.

"Can you believe it? He actually stuck his hand up my skirt right then and there!" She hisses with disgust. "Without even kissing me!"

The four of instantly you scrunch up your noses in revulsion.

"Gross!" Jess gags.

"Who the hell does he think he is?!" Cassie fumes.

"What did you do? Did you slap him?" Kate grumbles. "God, please tell me you slapped him!"

"Ofcourse I did!" Rhi answers haughtily, primly running her fingers through her hair. "No bastard touches me like that without my say so."

"He's was cute but boy, did he turn out to be an asshole," Cassie tuts, then adds sympathetically, "I'm sorry, Rhi. I know you liked him for a long time."

Rhi shrugs dismissively. "Eh, better I find out now than after six months of dating and wasting my time."

"Very true," Jess chimes in. "You deserve better than that shit."

"Ofcourse I do! I'm staying out of the dating game for a while, men are so not worth it." Rhi concedes, scooping up some potato and carrot with her spoon.

You watch the airy way Rhi speaks, how the words spill so confidently from her mouth. She's so self assured - in her capabilities, in her worth, in her beauty. You are simply in awe of her. You have often found yourself wishing you were more like Rhi; someone more bold, stronger willed.

You're sick of being timid. You're tired of never standing up for yourself. You're exhausted with hating yourself.

It was becoming more and more difficult for Joel to ignore the fact that he was in love with you. Obviously he knew you belonged to him, but he hadn't really examined just how deeply his own attachment to you ran. The concept of romantic love was something so foreign to Joel that during his pursuit to conquer you he hadn't even recognised how much he loved you.

It hit him when he returned to his house after a gruelling double patrol shift while you were still at work. The inside of the house was still and lifeless and seemed so much bigger and colder than usual. Not a trace of your pretty fragrance or your soft voice to greet him. Joel hated it.

It was you who Joel wanted to see when he ambled through the door after work, aching and weary and hungry. It was your face that he wanted to see when he opened his eyes every morning. And it was your lips that he wanted to kiss goodnight before each time he went to sleep. Joel needed you as close as possible, so it was a natural conclusion that you start the process of living together.

It wasn't part of Joel's plan - he hadn't expected things to have progressed so quickly, but then again he couldn't deny just how much he needed you. So for the first time since living in Jackson he had decided to follow his heart.

One night after his patrol shift, a week and a half after Jackson's birthday celebration, Joel slipped through your front door and toed off his boots.

"I been thinkin' about somethin'," Joel calls out as he shrugs off his coat and hangs it on the hook by the door. "I want you to come stay at my place. Got plenty of space for your things. Can even turn one of the spare rooms into a library for your books."

When you didn't answer him he turned around and stepped into the living room. You were sitting on the couch with your feet tucked under you, staring down at your hands as they fidgeted with a loose thread on the cuff of your sweater. Joel put his hands of his hips and clears his throat.

"Baby, you hear me? What do you think?" He asks with a tilt of his head.

He was trying to temper the irritation that was pricking at the base of his neck, but when he properly looks at you it quickly disappears. He clocks the despondent slouch of your shoulders and the pensive expression on your features.

You sigh softly and then tilt your head up to meet his gaze. You look tired, and the tears swimming in your eyes alarmed Joel enough for him to stride over to the couch and sit down beside you.

"What's goin' on?' He asks with genuine concern, his soulful brown eyes darting up and down your form.

Joel had seen you cry many times before, and it was he who was the reason for your tears more often than not. It usually did not perturb him or discourage him. He knew from the beginning that you were sensitive and soft hearted, the opposite of himself. But something about this instance was totally different.

You swipe the sleeve of your sweater across your eyes to brush away the tears that have spilled over.

"Nothing," you mumble, downcasting your eyes back to the loose thread on your cuff as your fingers toy with it. "Just lonely...missing my parents alot today."

Joel hums and smooths his hand over the back of your head tenderly. "Come to my place, babydoll, stay at my house. You'll never feel lonely there."

"Like, live there forever?"

"Well, not just yet." Joel smirks as he tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear. "We can move your belongings gradually."

"What do you mean?" You question him with a side eye glance.

Joel leans into you and nuzzles his nose in the crook of your neck. One of his arms snakes around your middle and he effortlessly drags you closer to his body like a scolded kitten tugged by its scruff.

"You can move into my place permanently later, aint no rush. But for now I want you close by, always. In my bed waitin' for me after work. Sittin' pretty on my lap while you read." He inhales your scent and places a soft kiss on your neck. His breath is hot against your skin and his whiskers tickle you. It makes shivers crawl up your spine.

"I don't know Joel," you whisper hesitantly. "I don't think I'm ready for that."

Joel's body immediately tenses at your words. He slowly draws his face away from you and loosens his arm from your waist. Your first instinct is to cower away from Joel and curl into yourself, to distance yourself from any potential outburst of wrath that he might choose to rain down upon you.

"What d'you mean?' Joel asks in a low, dangerous tone.

"I just...want to stay here, I don't want to go anywhere," you mumble, not meeting his gaze but still feeling the heat of his scathing glower nonetheless.

"Don't wanna go?" Joel growls harshly. "Look at me when I'm talkin' to you."

You cannot control the automatic reaction that his sharp tone commands from you; your head whips up to look at him obediantly. You feel small and vulnerable under Joel's glare.

"You don't wanna live with me in my house?" He hisses. "I thought that's what you wanted."

You sigh helplessly as you feel the tears begin to well in your eyes once again.

It is what I wanted. But now I'm not so sure.

"I'm ready to give you everythin' and now you wanna throw it away?" Joel spits bitterly, scowling. There is an inflection of dejection in his words, and the disbelief and hurt reflected in his glistening eyes causes a small stab of guilt in your chest.

"I just...don't think it's the right time," you explain with slow deliberation. "I'm not ready for that."

Joel takes a sharp inhale and scoffs. "So you changed your mind? Just like that, you changed your goddamn mind?"

"Joel," you speak calmly in order to placate him. "I want to keep my place. I don't want to live at your house."

"Why the hell not?"

The pressurised anxiety and woe that has been gradually constricting around your organs finally explodes, rapidly surging through your veins and your limbs and up into your skull.

"Because you raped me!" You snap suddenly, your voice hoarse and choked with emotion. You haul yourself off the couch and storm to the other side of the living room. "Because you hurt me worse than you ever did before!"

The word rape hangs heavily in the air, shocking and weighted in the way it tears from your throat. Joel's mouth falls open and shut, like he's too shocked to form a response.

And truthfully he is. He's speechless at your outburst, at seeing you so impassioned that you have raised your voice at him for the first time in your relationship. He wonders where this argumentative side of you has come from so suddenly. This kind of back chat and disrespect would usually warrant a punishment, but the near hysteria of your demeanour has thrown Joel off completely.

And then it clicks. He really did hurt you. He hurt you so much so that you are expressing anger at him for the first time, aswell as rejecting him. His throat feels dry. Joel swallows thickly, his adams apple bobbing.

There had been times in the QZ when the women Joel fucked had been desperate enough to acquire something he smuggled in that they let Joel use their bodies however he wanted. He had readily accepted the trade conditions but had never taken any woman unwillingly before, had never forced himself upon a woman or abused her. He openly despised the men that did - the FEDRA officers, the perverted assholes that roamed the streets, the raiders on the outside that thought nothing of gang raping a girl and leaving her bloodied and broken for the infected and wild animals to devour.

But when it came to you, Joel seemed to lose his sense of morality and rationality. He was blinded by the intrinsic need to dominate and possess you from the moment he saw you. It was something feral and biological inside his brain, his heart, his loins. You were his, you belonged to him, and he had to assert ownership over you in any way possible in order to never lose you. That included having to punish you at times to remind you of your place beside him.

Joel knows he's been rough at times. But rape?

Rape. A disgusting and violent violation used to assert control and cause one of the worst kinds of pain possible.

And that's what he did to you. He hadn't stopped once to think exactly what he had done, but now you've said it outloud he has to acknowledge it. He raped you.

Joel heaves himself from the couch and steps towards you but you flinch, wrapping your arms tightly around your waist and shrinking into the corner.

"I...I know what I did wasn't right. I just got carried away." Joel confesses. "Got so angry I wasn't thinkin' straight."

"Angry for what?" You sob, glaring directly at him. "For having fun with my friends like every other person in town?"

"I don't want my woman behavin' like that," Joel declares while shaking his head firmly, his mouth downturned in a scowl. "Not when she belongs to me."

"So you call me a whore and rape me?" You cry with exasperation, the tears pouring down your face.

Joel sighs and runs his hands through his hair in frustration. "I told ya I didn't mean to go that far, but you know I got a temper."

"That doesn't give you the right!" You argue back, secretly thrilled by your surge of self confidence in confronting Joel. "Imagine if someone did that to Ellie, what would--"

"Don't." Joel grits fiercely, his nostrils flaring and his jaw clenching. "Don't you dare mention her."

"Why not?" You ball your trembling hands into fists and stare him down. You can see the anger simmering just beneath the surface of Joel's restrained exterior, the mannerisms that signify an imminent danger. Your heart is thrumming in your chest and your stomach feels sick with trepidation but you won't back down. Not now. "So it's okay if you do it to me but if it's El--"

In a flash Joel storms toward you, his boots thundering heavily on the floor boards. He grabs a tight hold of your wrist and yanks you to him. You squeak with fear and collide into his chest. His eyes bore down into yours with steely reproach.

"Better listen to what I say, little girl," Joel warns lowly. "Mind your fuckin' manners."

You stare back up at Joel, tears of outrage and hurt stinging your eyes. Neither of you move during the tense stand off and time seems to stand still. There's a loaded intensity emanating between you two that is intoxicating, like both your souls are being forcefully pulled together despite fighting tooth and nail to resist. Amidst the anger and pain is something primal, a kind of hunger that is magnetic and electrifying. You can see it burning in Joel's orbs as his gaze flits between your lips and your own eyes.

Before you do something you'll regret, like kiss him or slap him, you try to pull away, but Joel effortlessly keeps you pinned to him. You shake your head despairingly and a sob escapes from your lips.

"I l-loved you," you whisper brokenly. "S-so much. And you have d-done nothing but hurt me."

Joel's expression softens and his grip on your wrist looses a tiny bit. The hardness leaves his dark eyes and is replaced by a helpless kind of sorrow. He blinks and clears his throat.

"That ain't true," he whispers back. "I been tryin', you know that, don't you? Been tryin' to show you how I feel and make it up to you."

"You broke my heart, Joel," you confess in a barely audible whisper.

Joel appears almost pained when the words leave your mouth; his brows furrow and his eyes shut tightly for a second. Then he releases his grip around your wrist and instead cradles your hand in his rough palm. The gentle way his paw engulfs yours is beseeching, as though your very being is the elixir that sustains him, something vital to his life yet is also so fragile. It brings you no comfort and instead makes the situation feel even more gut wrenching. Why can't you always be like this? You want to scream at him. Why now, when it's so late?

"I'll fix it," he says definitively. "Lemme fix it."

"I don't know if it can be fixed," you whisper truthfully.

You move to pull away from Joel again but his other arm wraps around your waist and holds you firmly against him. His emotive puppy dog eyes search yours beneath the heavy frown of his brow.

"Please," he whispers.

You shut your eyes and your breath hitches in your throat. You are so empty that you cannot evoke any words to describe the maelstrom of emotion inside you. Your legs feel weak and you feel like sleeping. Without speaking a word, you feel Joel dip down and lift you up into his arms like a child, and then carries you to bed.

Joel lays you carefully on the mattress, placing your head delicately on the pillow. You pull your knees up to your chest and curl up into yourself, wanting nothing more than to drift off and dream of alternate realities that you had read of in your favourite books, of imaginary places and people that you longed to visit. Joel climbs over your legs and plonks down behind you with a grunt.

"Baby," he whispers in your ear. Joel slips his thick arm around your waist and presses his front flush against your back. You hate yourself for the way your body has become conditioned to crave the heat of his body, how you still relish the sensation of his skin on yours even after he's defiled you.

"I'm nothing more than a whore for you, aren't I?" You whisper back wetly.

"What?" Joel breathes. "What? N-no, God, no." He props himself up with an elbow and uses his other arm to flip you onto your back. You stare up at the ceiling ans blink away the tears threatening to pool in your eyes.

"You said that," you warble.

"I know," he says with a sigh. "I didn't mean it." Joel splays his large hand over your belly and leans down to press his forehead to yours. "I'm sorry," he whispers. The two simple words stun you - it is the first time he's ever apologised.

Joel nuzzles his nose against your cheek tenderly, his eyes falling shut.

"I ain't lettin' you go," he whispers against your lips. "I'll prove myself to you. You'll see. You're mine, babydoll. I love you. You only belong to me. No one but me."

taglist - @@sofiparallel @harriedandharassed @kewwrites @romanarose @fan-fiction-floozy @anoverwhelmingdin @unknownsuser101 @shesarealcarpentersdream @sheeeeeppp @uncassettodiricordi @axshadows @puduvallee

#joel miller dark #joel miller x reader #dark! joel miller #joel miller dark fic #joel miller #dddne

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shysuccubusstuff · 4 days

Text

lovesick! diluc pt. 1

Content: Consensual + shy! diluc + tipsy! diluc (hc he is a light weight).Non proof-reader.

Note: It was Diluc's birthday a few days ago so I thought about writing a lil something for him :)). This one was taking too long so I just decided to divide it (as always...). Hope you're waiting for the next one!

You and Diluc had recently started dating, as you had been meeting with each other for several times, for example when you decided to work as a bartender in his taver.

He had been captivated since he met you, at first it was merely because of your pretty face, he was even more charmed when he realized that you were not only a pretty face, but you also had such a pretty soul, always helping people and trying to make people happy. That night, Paimon had decided to stay at the Serenitea pot, sleeping as she was so "tired" from the journey back home. So, why not make a visit to Diluc? Your mind had been wandering about it, as the last time you had seen each other it had been merely for business. You entered the place, the tavern as energetic as always, some men were already drunk, laying on top of the tables while others were laughing at whatever. Then, at the bar was him, his pretty red hair shining as if they were flames, his arms were slightly pressured by his shirt, making his muscles stand out a bit more. As soon as he saw you his gaze softened, his lips curving into a shy smile.

"Traveler, it's a pleasure to finally meet you again, did you have any business here?" He had gotten closer to you, but he had paused, his body showing how he was unsure of how to greet you. You smiled, as despite most times he was more like a wild bear, he now looked like a little cub, unsure of what to do. Without wasting more time, you got closer to him, your arms surrounding him and closing the hug, his warmth making you feel even more at home. Diluc got a little tense for a moment, but he quickly joined the hug, his hair tickling you a little. He slowly let you go, his face a bit red, as he didn't expect you to greet him in such a welcoming manner.

"Hello, Diluc. I came to see you actually, last time we saw each other I didn't have that much time to talk with you and... well, it's just great to feel at home." His eyes encountered yours as he returned to behind the counter, the tips of his ears a bit red, cause how was he supposed not to feel his heart pounding like crazy? The person he liked (more like loved) had just said such a corny sentence to him! He pinched himself on the arm and kept cool, trying to keep his usual poker face.

"I'm glad you feel like that about Mondstadt, traveler. How did your journey went?" Of course you could mean Mondstadt, so he tried to keep his cool and ask about a topic that would avoid any type of weird misunderstandings.

"Oh, you know, they were entertaining, some were a bit rougher, but I was able to meet great people, for example, I even met a Duke! He reminded me a bit of you, you know?" His heart dropped a little when he saw you smile wide while talking about that man who seemed to be quite charming but he tried to remain completely focused, cleaning the counter while trying to avoid you noticing his slight change of humour. Despite his attempt, you were clearly able to tell, as he almost looked like a sad puppy, trying to focus more on cleaning the perfectly clean coutner over meeting with your gaze. So you tried to push him to look at you, your hands moving towards him, touching him softly, caressing his biceps and making him almost whimper, hungry for you.

"Diluc... you're not paying no attention to me... are you mad?" You pouted, making you look way too cute for his well-being. When did you learn to make men so weak? He bit his tongue, once again trying to remain calm while what he truly wanted was to kiss those pretty lips, still shiny from the beverage that he had given you shortly after you had arrived.

"I'm sorry traveler, it's just that today has been... kinda hard." His eyes shifted, focusing on how your pretty hands were caressing his face slowly making their way down his neck, almost touching his chest, almost making him almost fall to the ground as his legs were shaking way too much.

"How about we drink together? Just to make you feel a bit better?" You got your glass close to his lips, allowing him to take a huge gulp from it, perhaps without thinking before acting as his eyes started to look a little foggy as soon as he shallowed it. Who would guess that the serious owner of the Angel's Share would be such a light weight? The tip of his ears flushed a little, and his mind started to be (perhaps too much) relaxed.

"Oh... the pretty boy seems a bit tired, can I help you a little?" You kept trying to make him mad, the vein in his neck starting to be more prominent. Diluc got out of the counter, walking (perhaps more like running) to the door, finally closing the tavern for the day and leaving both of you alone. The warm lights making you glow like some kind of God, Diluc felt his clothes a bit too tight, his brain almost working in command of whatever you said to him. He lost no time in returning back to where you were sitting, bending in one knee and resting his face on your lap, his soft red hair falling so prettily and framing his beautiful face. You lowered your head, peppering some kisses on both his hair and face.

"Traveler, I've missed you so much, I hated when you talked about that man, did you fall in love with him or something?..." Diluc started to talk, not putting too much importance on what he was saying, but you were still unfaced, the alcohol not being strong enough for you to feel any of the effects from it. "Traveler... are you listening to me?" His hands were tugging from your clothes, making him look just like a small child complaining, somehow the idea of having a small version of him made you melt, his eyes were glistening, too pretty for this world.

"I'm sorry baby, I was just trying to mess with you a little... don't get mad at me." You smiled at him, his face forming a small pout. He got up swiftly, his face looking much more serious than before.

"Were you trying to make fun of me?..." His gaze shifted, appearing much more menazing than before. He instantly took you, putting you on top of the counter and making your eyes lock with each other. Your heart almost skipped a beat, until then you had been the one that was in control, but the order had suddenly changed, making you feel all shy and fidgety, cause, how were you supposed to react to a hot redhead moving you around as if you were as light as a feather?!

"Diluc, I was just playing! I'm sorry for making you feel sad, I swear I was just playing around, yeah? We should talk about this tomorrow, I think you're a little tipsy!" You tried to run away, putting both of your hands on his chest and trying to move even just a little, but he was not budging a bit, his breath feeling hot against your face.

"No runnin' now, it's my turn to play with you, don't cha think?" His words were dragging a bit, but he was still maintaining his grip around your waist. He got closer, starting by kissing your cheek, making you giggle a little because of his hair around your neck. He stopped for a moment, quickening the pace, his kisses started to lower from your cheek to your neck, causing you to start feeling a bit hot.

"Diluc... we shouldn't be doing this here... What if someone comes...?" Your complains fell into deaf ears, as he not only kept kissing your neck, but he even started to move his hands upwards, getting rid of your upper clothing and making you feel the coldness of the place against your skin.

"This place is closed until tomorrow... so I'm sure nobody is coming. On the other side... your night just has begun, love."

#smut #fanfiction #x reader #genshin imagines #genshin impact headcanons #genshin impact #genshin impact smut #genshin smut #genshin x reader #diluc ragnvindr #diluc smut #diluc x reader #genshin diluc #diluc x you

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hoodharlow · 1 year

Text

Oasis

AN: I was writing Jack and Miriam fucking in the studio, but then I was like "what if I make it kinda enemies to lovers. Gif from @harlowgifs <3

Requested? My coochie

Warnings: smut, jealous!Jack if you squint

Word Count: 3.2k words

“How can you hate him? He’s literally the sweetest guy ever.” Violeta’s best friend/ stylist/ assistant, Cleo,went on and on.

“You say that because you haven’t been stuck with him for over twelve hours at the studio.” Violeta rolled her eyes, pushing herself up from the ground.

She was picking outfits for the press tour of the Gloria Trevi biopic she was cast in, and she was playing the iconic artist. The press tour started in a few weeks, but Violeta wanted everything ready so she could focus on finishing up her sophomore album. She was nervous, her first album basically skyrocketed her career. Just last year she won both categories she was nominated for at the Grammys, best new artist and best latin pop album. It was validating because, according to her fans, she was snubbed the Latin Grammys. There was a lot of anticipation and pressure for her. Which was why her team and Jack’s teams thought they would make a good collaboration.

Their fans began shipping them when they were seen together at this year’s Met Gala red carpet, waiting for their turn to walk up the stairs. Her fans loved how Jack managed to make her laugh because Violeta was known for her resting bitch face and it was rare for her fans to get candids of her smiling.

They agreed and their mutual friend Nickie Jon was helping them produce it. What Jack and Violeta didn’t expect was they would end up disagreeing on everything. It was Violeta’s song for her upcoming sophomore album, but Jack took it over and kept changing things. It caused arguments between them that Nickie texted them both to either find a new producer or they hash out their shit because he was tired of getting stuck in the middle of them. Now Jack was showing up to her condo so they could hash it out because they both wanted Nickie to work with them.

“If I was stuck twelve hours in a room with Jack Harlow, I wouldn’t leave until every surface is painted white.” Cleo said.

“You’re gross.” Violeta grimaced.

She went to her walk-in closet and picked a black mini dress from Mirror Palais with flower trims along the straps and the neckline. She paired the look with Doc Marten mary janes and some white ankle socks for a preppy look. She came back out and began doing her makeup. She was doing a subtle look with some concealer, light contour and a simple eyeliner look.

“If you can’t stand him, why are you getting all dolled up?” Cleo asked.

“I’m not getting dolled up, I don’t want to look dead. I got home like four hours ago and slept for two hours.” she explained.

The night before she went to some label party and then hit up the after party with some of their friends, Nikie, and some other people. Nickie drove her home when it ended. Violeta knew Nickie for a few years. He was one of the first producers she worked with when she got signed to Atlantic Records. They had an older brother and younger sister dynamic, and it annoyed (and grossed out) when people thought they were an item.

“I’m going to leave you so you can finish getting ready for your lil date.” Cleo smiled sweetly.

“It’s not a date; he hates me, remember.” Violeta reminded her.

“Vee, I’m just saying. There has to be more to it than him suddenly hating you. Maybe he’s just jealous.”

“Oh what?” she furrowed her eyebrows in confusion.

Cleo shrugged and took all the leftover clothes, shoes, and accessories they didn’t use for the outfit planning.

Violeta finished getting ready half an hour after her best friend left and began cleaning up. She went downstairs and found Rocky, her three year old boxer-pitbull rescue, laid out in the balcony overlooking the gate. It reminded her of the times she would visit her dad’s pueblo and see the dogs on the roof guarding their houses. She whistled him and he got up from the spot, following her outside so he could do his business. Violeta was picking up his business when she saw Jack’s car pull up to the gate through the slits.

Rocky sensed him and began growling at Jack. He was about to press the intercom when Rocky barked at him.

“Let me get a leash.” Violeta called from the other side of the garage.

She patted Rocky’s side, motioning him to follow her. He obliged and went inside. Violeta wrestled on his harness and clicked on his leash. They made their way back down to the gate. She opened the door and stepped out with Rocky.

“Sit.” she told the three year old puppy. He sat next to her and eyed Jack, who was carrying a drink tray and a bag of food. She waved him over.

“He doesn’t bite, right?” Jack asked hesitantly.

“Only if I say so.” she said nonchalantly. She giggled when she saw Jack get almost translucent. “I’m kidding. He’s trained and very friendly. You just showed up when he was doing his business.”

“Oh.” he said in a quiet voice, taking a few steps forward.

“Rocky, this is my friend Jack. He knows Tio Nickie and he’s going to help me make a song.” she explained to the puppy. She reached for Jack’s hand and brought it to him.

Rocky sniffed his hand and got excited. He yipped and nuzzled his face into his hand. Jack gave him a few scratches and just like that they were besties.

The three of them went inside the gate. Jack watched as Violeta locked her gate and put in a code. He followed her up the stairs getting a great view of her ass under her short dress.

“Welcome to my crib, or whatever people would say on MTV.” she gestured unenthusiastically.

Rocky had gone back to his spot out on the balcony, leaving them standing in the entryway.

“I, uh, got you a drink. Nickie said you like the matcha latte with strawberries, so I brought you one.” Jack said, pulling up her drink from the drink tray.

“Oh, thanks.” she said. “So, uh, let’s go work on the song.”

She led him to the basement, which was just another room next to the garage since the rest of the rooms were on top of the garage. She converted it into a home studio. It had everything any artist could possibly need.

Jack looked around reading all her plaques, posters and her awards. He knew of Violeta, and heard a few of her English songs, but he didn't know she was as popular as she is.

“You play?” He asked, nodding his head at the piano.

“Obviously, why else would it be here?” she snapped at him.

Jack frowned. “What the fuck is your problem? I asked a fucking question and you get all defensive.”

“So I’m not supposed to defend myself when some dude questions my work ethic?” Violeta frowned.

“I'm not questioning shit!” He said defensively. He passed his hand over his curls in frustration. “You’re such a piece of work. I don’t even know why I agreed to this shit.”

“Oh fuck you–”

“In your dreams.” Jack snapped.

“Why would I dream about having disappointing sex?” She retorted.

Jack walked up to her, backing her into the wall and leaned down in her ear. “The only disappointing thing about having sex with me is that I would ruin dick for you. After me no one would ever compare and you’re going to spend the rest of your life hoping someone can try to satisfy you.” His hand slowly inched up the outside of her thigh, making Violeta swallow audibly. “Bet your pussy is dripping for me.”

“It's drier than the desert in Sonora.” She said.

It wasn’t. If Jack moved his hand in between her thighs, he’d find a waterfall. “Mhm,” he nodded, taking a step back. He sat on a chair and opened his backpack and pulled out his notes. “So last night I was thinking about cleaning up the bass you had and– what?”

He stopped talking when he saw Violeta look at him angrier than ever.

“You can’t tease someone like that and then go about your day.” She scowled.

Jack set his notebook down on the soundboard and smirked. “So you admit it, I made you wet.”

“What– No! That’s not what I meant. I…” Violeta rambled on.

“Then what did you mean?” He asked, tilting his head inquisitively.

He leaned back in the chair, spreading his legs ever so slightly. He had not right to be doing that to her. Not when she's supposed to no be attracted to him. Truthfully she’d been wanting to fuck him since the Met Gala and she’d been sexually frustrated because she hoped to see him at the after party, but he never showed. Nickie later told her that Jack was a homebody and only went to the Met because he had just released his album and needed the promo.

“You still haven’t answered my question: what did you mean?” He said, casually.

“Nothing, let’s get back to work.” Violeta waved him off.

Jack didn’t say anything else. He watched her as she stood in front of the soundboard, typing away on her computer. She pulled up their song and fixed the buttons so they were in at the song's settings.

“Okay, so I was thinking we add more bass to it.” Violeta said, playing a snippet.

Jack shook his head. “It has the right amount, you just have to make it tighter.” He got up and pressed his chest on her back as he fixed up the beat. When he finished he played it back. It sounded perfect. “Like I said–”

Violeta cut him off, pulling him to a kiss. The kiss was messy. The urgency between them increased as lust quickly took over as their kiss intensified. He held her in place with his hips. She pulled him closer by his shirt, wanting more of him. She moaned in his mouth when she felt his fingertips brush her panties.

Jack nipped and sucked down her neck to find her sweet spot. He barely caught her strangled moan when he nipped the spot between her jaw and neck. He repeated his actions, earning a louder moan from her. He pulled away and pushed her down on the soundboard. Jack peeled off her thong, tossing it behind him. He got down on his knees and pulled Violeta closer to her. He placed her legs on his shoulders.

“Every desert has an oasis and I think I found mine.” He told her.

Without breaking eye contact he spit on her entrance and dug in. He devoured her like he'd been in the desert for an eternity and she was the only who could satisfy his hunger and thirst. Violeta gripped his curls, keeping his head in place as she lifted her hips.

After a while Jack sat up and pushed her legs to her chest, so she was more exposed to him. With one hand, he pulled down the top part of her dress, exposing her breasts. He roughly squeezed them as he continued to eat her out. His nose pressed on her clit, making her a moaning mess. Minutes passed when he finally slid his middle and ring finger in her. With his fingers still fucking her at an agonizing slow pace, he sat Violeta up and brought her mouth to his. Jack's beard was dampened by her arousal, a few drops fell onto her neck, rolling down to her chest.

“I'm close…shit—Jack!” She whimpered and reached down to his wrist.

She tightly gripped the edge of the counter as she came. Once her high faded, Jack let go and let her lean into him. He slipped his fingers out of her and licked them clean, moaning at how delicious she tasted.

“Face the sound board.” Jack said and Violeta complied.

She got down and turned around facing the glass wall infront of them. There was a faint reflection and Violeta watched him take off his shirt and pushed down his pants. She looked over her shoulder and saw him stroking his length.

Violeta's jaw nearly dropped at the size of his cock. She heard the crinkling of a condom wrapped then she felt his breath on her shoulders when he approached, standing behind her. His hand gently pushed her down onto the table and her cheek pressed against the cool wood.

“Ready?” He asked her.

“Yes.” she nodded eagerly, making him chuckle.

Jack slid into her and Violeta let out a pornographic moan. He smirked, grabbing at her hands to pin them behind her back for balance as slowly fucked her. Within minutes, she wanted to tap out, he was more than she could handle, but at the same she couldn’t get enough of him. Jack let go of her hands and his hands gripped her waist as he slowly rocked into her. As the minutes passed, his thrusts got rougher, and Violeta couldn’t hold back. She begged Jack to keep fucking her at that slow and rough pace she never knew existed.

She pushed back rougher to meet his thrusts. He gripped her hips with one hand while the other went back down to her clit. Jack worked his fingers roughly as he pushed his hips into Violeta. He buried his face in her neck, kissing her sweet spot. Her quiet praises filled the room, egging him on. She quietly whimpered his name, lazily meeting his thrusts before her orgasm took over.

“Who’s the only guy who can fuck you like this?” Jack asked. He leaned over, pressing his chest against her back.

“You.” She said breathlessly.

“What’s my name?” He asked in a possessive tone.

“Jack.” Violeta whimpered.

“No one else gets to fuck you like this.” He egged her on.

“No one else.” she agreed.

“Not Nickie.” Jack grunted. “Just me.”

“Only you Jack.”

Those three words were enough to send Jack over the edge. He moaned out her name. His thrusts got sloppy and finally he pulled out, resting his hands on either side of Violeta's body on the table as he leaned forward, hunching over and catching his breath. After few minutes he pulled off the condom, tossing it in a trash bin, and put on his clothes once more.

He opened his notebook and continued, “So I as I was saying…”

*** Three Months Later ***

At midnight, or nine pm Pacific time, Violeta’s sophomore album, Oasis, comes out. She only released two singles off the album: a random ballad and her song with Jack. Their song became an instant hit, debuting at number one and it remained at number one for six weeks. They were currently nominated for a few VMAs for their song and collab. For all her successes, her team is hosting an album release party/listening party in LA for her and the other artists she worked with on her album.

Violeta was dressed to the nines in an ice blue halter mini dress with feathers all over. She wore silver strappy heels that wrapped around all the way her thighs. She was the only one that color. She jokingly told her manager that she wanted everyone else in black or white when they were planning her party. Her manager made it happen for her, and everyone who wasn't in black or white, was turned away.

She spotted Jack at table with his friends and Nickie. After they hooked up, they never spoke about it. He acted like nothing happened and when they were in public he made it clear they were only friends. She wouldn't have cared; she's a professional and knew how to act, but what gotnher was that he was right. He ruined sex for her no one lived up to him.

“Are you going to stop eye fucking him anr finally to fuck you again?” Cleo asked Violeta.

“I wasn’t eye fucking him.” Violeta said, fluffing out the feathers in her dress.

“It's okay to admit you have a think for him.” Her best friend reassured her.

“But I don't.” she denied.

“Keep telling yourself that.”

Before she could say anything Violeta’s manager grabbed her wrist and pulled to away.

“Okay, ten seconds.” Violeta’s manager yelled in a mic to get everyone’s attention.

She gathered everyone around to the dance floor. She counted off until and it was finally 9pm. Her manager went on to make a speech about how proud of Violeta she was and how grateful she was of watching grow into the artist she is. She signaled the DJ to play the album.

Violeta’s eyes Jack’s eyes from across the dance floor. She lifted her champagne flute at him as his voice echoed the room.

“‘Who’s the only guy who can fuck you like this?”’

‘“You.”

‘“What’s my name?”’

It cut to the actual song before she actually said his name. She smirked and danced along with Cleo and her other friends. By song three she was tired and went to her VIP section to get a water. Tired of her heels, she sat on one of the couches.

“Way to start your album with a climax.” Jack said, sitting next to her. He playfully nudged his shoulder agisnt hers. “Congrats by the way. Drama let me listen to it a few days ago and it’s fucking good. Did I understand 65% of what you were singing? No, but I fucked with it.”

“Thanks, I really appreciate it and thank you for being a part of it. ”

“What AI program did you use to get my voice?” he asked curiously.

Violeta felt her whole body get hot. She g giggled nervously. “Apparently we recorded ourselves that one time and this producer suggested embed it the song.”

Jack hummed in response. The pair sat in silence watching everyone else dance and vibe to Violeta’s album. Itnwas only the two of them in the VIP area.

“Why did you mention Nickie when you were fucking me?” She found herself asking Jack.

“I was jealous because every time we’re at the studio I try to talk to you, you ignore me and only talk to Nickie.” he said, scratching the back of his neck.

“I didn’t ignore you.” she crossed her arms.

“Yes, you did. I try to contribute something, but you were too focused on Nickie to notice. If you two are a thing, my bad for bending you over that night.” he shrugged.

“Ew! Nickie is the brother I never had.” she pretended to gag. “He’s the last person I’d fuck.”

“Now I’m embarrassed for thinking that.”

“Was it also why you were a dick to me in the beginning?” Violeta asked him.

“As immature and pathetic as it sounds, yes. Not to toot my own horn, but in our friend group I’m the guy who gets the girls' attention first then the guys. I guess I got jealous that he knew you and you were comfortable around him.” he met her gaze. “I’m sorry for being rude to you and constantly picking fights with you. I’m well aware that shit was stupid.”

“Apology accepted.” she smiled softly.

“I can apologize in a few different ways.” Jack smirked.

Violeta gasped, feigning innocence. “Buy me dinner first. I’m a classy woman.”

“You used a recording of us fucking in your song, but if you want me to ask you out that’s you had to say.”

Taglist: @cherryxcreme @heavyhitterheaux @carma-fanficaddict @youngharleezyxo @youngharleezy @babyharleezy @that-90s-girllll @alinaharlow @harlowcomehome @nattinatalia @webinurcloset @gassyandsassy1 @jackharloww @awhore4moree @noescapricho-essentimiento @a-moment-captured @neon-lights-and-glitter @purecinnamonextract

#jack harlow #jack harlow smut #jack harlow one shot #jack harlow imagine #jack harlow fanfic #jack harlow angst #jack harlow oneshot #jack harlow fanfiction #jack harlow x oc

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happysadyoyo · 6 months

Note

Oh, well, how about... since the librarian and diguised Sun met in winter, how about they got snowed inside one evening?

Like, the snow storm was supposted pass by according to prognostic, but, you know, the elements have zero respect for the metheorlogist hard work. So the storm really got them by surprize.

The younger siblins could either be with them or not, maybe having sleepover at a friend's house.

As usual, human disguise AU belongs to @pillowspace. It is *dead* at work rn and I'm trying a new energy drink so let's see how it goes.

Also I need a name for the little brother...

It's been getting darker earlier and earlier now, and Daylight Savings Time isn't helping matters. Usually, the head librarian tries to schedule you so you can leave before it's quite dark, but you've changed shifts with Jessica because her toddlers caught the flu from school. You're not envious, glad your brother is old enough to wash his hands and generally keep clean.

He's with the sitter now, and you're clearing off the last cart of returned books. Sun's tucked himself in the corner, nose in a book. You can just see the bright green of his scarf. Briefly, you wonder why he wears it like that even indoors. The thought is gone just as quickly.

"Are you sure you're okay walking me home tonight?" You ask as you pass by. "There's a snowstorm passing by. I don't want you to get caught in it if it decides to turn around."

"It's fine!" Sun isn't even startled by you talking. You hear him move as you wander off, feeling along the spines for an empty space. "I enjoy our walks, and the weather website said it was going to be to the south anyway."

"Mm. You shouldn't trust the website. I'm pretty sure meteorologists just throw darts at a weather map and report whatever it lands on." The books slide into place with the softest thump of bookcloth against wood. "It's getting dark too. I can walk on my own..." Not that you wanted to, not really. You had grown to love having Sun at your side. A small, selfish part of your mind wanted to ask him to walk with you after your job as a cleaner too.

You don't ask. You're certain he's got his own life after all. It would be far too much to ask him to take time out of even more evenings just because you don't like walking alone.

"I would hope they do more than that," Sun is saying, drawing your attention back to him. "There are meteorology books here in the library. It's a fascinating science."

You push the emptied cart to where he's sitting, propping yourself against it with one foot braced against the wheel to keep it from rolling off. "I should've guessed you would like meteorology."

"Why's that?"

You grin. "Your name of course."

Sun takes a second to process before he laughs, and you giggle alongside him, stifling the sound with the back of your hand. When you calm down, you stretch. "Okay, let me get my coat and we can head out."

"I'll wait by the door."

It takes you a few minutes, and you say goodnight to Gretchen before you bundle up. You rival Sun in terms of layers; your brother had insisted on making you into a human marshmallow to keep from getting cold and you could only indulge him. Besides, the scarf and earmuffs kept your nose and ears toasty warm.

Sun doesn't respond when you approach. "Are you ready to go?" You ask. Nothing. Cautiously, aware of his aversion to touch, you nudge at his upper arm. "Sun?"

"Huh? Oh. Hi. Sorry. I just didn't realize it'd gotten so dark so quickly." His voice is strangely flat, almost robotic.

"Are you okay?" You ask, and your hand lingers on his coat sleeve. It's meant to be comforting, but you're not sure he even notices.

"Yeah, yeah. It'll be fine." He seems to straighten up and finally notice your hand. His own lifts and you can feel him take yours. His grip is soft, like he expects you to pull away. You beam instead. "Ready to go?"

"Ready," you say, and push the door open. The cold immediately whips into your face, and you shrink into Sun's side. "Brrr. This is going to be a fun walk home."

You do notice Sun is quieter on the walk home, though you guess it's from having to walk in the increasing cold. It's starting to snow too, or maybe it had been for awhile and the wind is picking it up and tossing it back in both your faces. Intermittently, his grip will tighten on your hand, and you try to squeeze reassuringly.

It takes almost twice as long for you to get to the top of your street as usual, and the wind and snow are trying to pile on you both. "Sun, I don't think it's safe for you to try and walk home."

"I'll be fine," Sun says, his voice tense. But no, you're not allowing that, and you push against the wind to drag you both to your home.

It's an apartment building, with doors that open to exposed landings. It's a little quieter with the building blocking the worst of it, and you release Sun's hand to carefully stomp up the concrete steps. Your foot tries to slip, and Sun catches you by the back of your coat.

"Whoops, thank you." You shoot a smile in his general direction, and his head Bob's in acknowledgment. "My brother is going to be home. He's sweet, but if he's not asleep I might have to kick his butt."

"Is he very young then?" Sun asks. There's less tension in his voice, but you can tell he's still nervous. You can see his mittens fidgeting.

"He's eight." You fumble with your keys, pulling off a glove with your teeth to get a better grip. It dangles from your mouth. "So old enough to be a nuisance sometimes. He's a good kid normally."

The TV is on in the living room, playing Jeopardy quietly in the background. You can see Sarah curled up in one of your blankets on the couch. She moves as you stomp your way in, shaking off the snow. "Hey. He was worried about if you'd make it. I told him -- oh."

She must've noticed Sun. You gesture at your lanky friend with your bare hand as you unzip your coat with the other. "This is Sun. He's from the library. He's going to spend the night, at least until the storm's calmed down some."

"Oh...Kay." Sarah sounds unsure, but you shrug it off. "Well, he fell asleep an hour ago. Mom gave me some pot roast for you guys to split. I put your half in the fridge."

"Aw, tell her I said thank you," you say. You leave your coat and boots in a pile by the door even as Sarah pulls her things on. "Careful on the steps. It's icy."

"Of course. Mom will be by tomorrow afternoon. Good night." Sarah lingers a moment, clearly untrusting of Sun, but you wave her off, shivering in the open door until you hear the door under yours shut. Only then do you lock your own door, rubbing your arms briskly.

"It is cold," you complain, voice soft. "I'm going to make us some hot cocoa."

"I'm okay without any," Sun says, but you ignore him, walking into your narrow kitchen. The pot roast is front and center in the nearly empty fridge, and you tip it out onto a plate to reheat. The kettle still has water in it from this morning, so you turn on the stovetop, finding two mugs and the hot chocolate.

"Your home is nice," Sun says. He's at the entrance of the kitchen, making himself smaller as though he could take up less space. He seems a little too big and bright for the apartment, where almost everything is secondhand. "Did you decorate it yourself."

"Oh yes," you reply, mock serious. "That's why there's a big poster of robots fighting dinosaurs behind the TV." The microwave beeps, so you open it and turn the pot roast over, stabbing it a few times before it gets popped back in to finish. "We picked things out together."

"Your parents..."

You shrug, spooning hot chocolate mix and little hard marshmallows into each mug. "Gone. Been gone for awhile."

"Surely you have family then."

Sun's questions don't irritate you like it would if it were someone else. Maybe it's because he doesn't sound pitying or like he is doubting your ability to care for your little brother on your own.

Most people did. Most people saw you, all but legally blind and hardly an adult yourself, and decided you weren't fit to be his guardian. You tell yourself you don't care what they think.

You almost believe it.

"No one to speak of. Grandparents are dead or in a nursing home. We try to visit once a month, but it's hard when he's going to school." It's easy to talk to Sun. "Everyone else is out of state. My cousin mentioned taking him in last year, but it would mean a new school district and therapist and... It's not important." The kettle whistles, and you pull it off quickly, pouring it into both mugs. "Sorry it's not milk. I've not had a chance to run to the store so we're low on groceries."

"Thank you." Sun takes his mug dutifully, closing his hands to hold it close to his face. The microwave beeps again, and you pull the pot roast out, going to split it into two portions. "Oh, no. Don't do that. I'm not hungry, genuinely. I was feeling a little nauseous walking over."

"Oh. The smell isn't too much, is it?" You ask.

"No, no it's fine. I'll stick with my hot chocolate."

You're doubtful, but if he's feeling ill it would explain why he let you take his hand all the way here. You decide to leave it be, beelining to the couch to curl up with the blanket. Of course, it's big enough to share, though you're surprised when Sun sits and the couch seems to shift and drag you into his space. "Oh! Sorry. I wasn't expecting you to be so -- that's rude. Sorry. Here." You put your plate and mug on the floor to spread the blanket between the two of you. It's hard not to notice that while he's taken off the plastic outer coat he's still bundled up. The scarf is even in place. He must be freezing. Maybe you should turn the heat up.

"Thank you." Sun smooths the blanket between the two of you, and you tuck your feet up as you settle in with your meal. The pot roast is tender even now, melting in your mouth. You can't help but moan.

"It's so good," you say, stifling a yawn. With the hot chocolate and a hot meal, you're warming up. "I wish you could eat too. Ms. Wurthers makes the best food."

"I'm enjoying watching you eat," Sun said and that makes you warmer still.

You dig around for the remote, offering it to Sun. "Find something to watch. I think AMC starts playing some of those old horror movies around this time."

"You like those?" He does start clicking through, even as you shrug.

"Their delivery is different. Sometimes it feels like modern movies flattens everyone's emotions out so unless you can see their faces it's all the same. And our TV is rather small. But the old actors have so much drama and bravado. It's fun."

Sun settles on a channel that's playing an old ad for Chia pets. You keep eating, movements turning sluggish as you continue to warm up. Home is safe, and Sun is safe, apparently. You should've guessed that. "We can turn the lights off if you'd like," you offer, muffling a yawn.

"No." Sun speaks sharply, surprising you back to alertness. "I mean... No, it doesn't bother me at all. If you're tired though, you should go to bed."

"I'm fine." You gingerly touch Sun's arm again, disappointed when he pulls away. "I want to stay up til the weather clears enough for you to go home."

Sun's silence feels like a punch to the gut. You chew on the inside of your cheek, no longer hungry. "If the weather doesn't improve, you are also more than welcome to spend the night," you say, trying to ignore the tension between the two of you. "There's plenty of blankets and pillows, and you don't have to undress at all if you're uncomfortable. I might have some sweats that'll fit you actually. They're a bit too long for me but maybe--"

"It's okay," Sun says, interrupting. But it doesn't feel okay, you want to argue. You chew on the inside of your cheek instead, making yourself small against the couch. The commercials end, and a movie plays. It's a Western, and it's at the climax, the hero shooting down the villain in a classic duel. "You really should go to bed though. I don't want to be in the way."

"You're not!" It's not quite a yell; you're just being quietly insistent. "You're my friend Sunny. And that's enough for me." You know he is adverse to it, but you take his hand and hold it tightly. To your surprise, he doesn't pull away. He actually squeezes, letting his other hand rest on yours. You drop your hand on top of his, and he snorts.

"You win," he says, and you grin up at him, settling with your hands stacked together. The movie plays, and you catch yourself nodding off. You struggle to remain upright, but as the credits begin to roll, you begin to lean into Sun's weight. You're only kind of awake when your head rests against his shoulder. Part of you knows you should move. You're trapping him like this, and what if this is far too much contact for your friend? But it's comfortable and warm, and he's comfortable too.

It's been a long, long time since you'd been able to have someone over. A long, long time since you felt this safe with someone other than your brother. You try to move anyway, wanting to, you don't know, something. But Sun squeezes your hands, freeing one of his own to pull the blanket up over your shoulders.

"Sleep tight." And it's not quite his voice, but it's still Sun, and he wants you to stay.

So you stay, falling asleep as the snow continues to build up outside, drifting in and covering your tracks: the soft prints of your boots and the deep imprints left from your surprisingly heavy friend.

#fnaf dca #dca fandom #human disguise #daycare attendant #sun can force himself to stay in control with help from the streetlights but it is a struggle only won because Moon hasnt met you yet #and doesnt trust you #a little shorter than planned but i cant wrote the brother without a name

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sophierequests · 1 year

Text

kaz brekker

Navigation┃Main Masterlist┃Requests

Angst: ☾ ┃ Fluff: ♡ ┃ Hurt/Comfort: ☆ ┃ Smut: ♤

“A liar, a thief, and utterly without conscience. But he'll keep to any deal you strike with him.”

oneshots

while you're gone (☆) → The reader is away on a trip to Ravka and Kaz misses her for ‘no apparent reason’, causing him to behave differently. The Crows notice and try to play cupid, just in their own way.

Maybe Matthias was right, he thought. What would someone like Y/N ever see in someone like him? The chances were higher that she already found a partner in the Ravkan court, than that she would ever reciprocate his feelings.

the secrets that you keep (☆) → Kaz and the reader are acting as a pretend couple to get into a vault at a party. After getting locked in said vault, things get awkward and confessions ensue.

His expression did not help ease your stress. His brows were furrowed, and his eyes constantly flew from the now-closed door to your panic-struck face.

you always turn my head around (☾ / ☆) → Being best friends with a lovey-dovey couple is hard. Especially if your relationship has to be kept a secret and your partner isn't really too fond of touch. Can love be stronger than guilt?

It wasn’t easy to be with Kaz sometimes. Loving him was easy. Hiding said love was not. You knew that he tried his best to show the missed lacking physical affection through other ways.

in a decadent age i try to change (♡ / ☆) → Kaz watches the reader’s close relationship with Jesper and starts to feel guilty, causing him to distance himself from them. After his bad conscience almost costs them their life, he chooses to come clean.

Unbeknownst to you, he did care. Quite a lot actually. It made him sick to his stomach, having to watch you getting touched by some dirty merchant, whilst he could barely muster the courage to link your pinkies.

untethered, i wash ashore (☾ / ☆) → Kaz is drowning again, but who is there to save him?

Water had killed Kaz Rietveld and birthed Kaz Brekker. And now it returned to take back what it created.

call me what you like (♡) → Kaz and the reader have been married for quite some years now, unbeknownst to their friends. But what if a slip up causes this shared secret to come to the surface?

This had worked surprisingly well. While you and Kaz spent way more time with each other, even trying to work on his touch aversion, your friends tried their best to get you together.

honeycakes and sweetened words (♡) → After a failed job, the reader decides to bake something to cheer the team up, not expecting anything in return. What if Kaz gives them the one thing they expected the least?

However, care wasn’t something of use in the Barrel. It slowed him down, so he did his best to push it down.

grateful you're mine (♡) → Kaz spends a completely ordinary evening with his partner, but wouldn't even dare to trade it for anything in the world.

When he reached the Slat he considered going inside - it’s where his room was, after all - but he quickly passed it. His home was somewhere - someone - else.

i eat boys like you for breakfast (♡) → After being captured by some of the Dime Lions, the reader is done taking anyone's shit.

As soon as Kaz had laid out his plan, you already predicted the many ways it could go wrong, but did he listen? Obviously not.

a glimpse of us (☾) → Years after the reader leaving him, Kaz still sees glimpses of her in everything he does.

But he didn’t. And you weren’t the girl that was with him now.

i crumble completely when you cry (☆) → After years of not seeing them, Kaz decides to find them again.

He had left you in his past a long time ago, and that is where you should have stayed. And that is where you would have stayed if he would have just thrown away all those damned letters.

a little crow and a lot of chaos (♡) → A little crow visits the Crow Club for the first time and chaos ensues.

Many people couldn’t appreciate the beauty of the Barrel, however, seeing it through the eyes of a small boy, whose father wasn’t reluctant to tell stories about all the crazy heists his parents and their friends had completed here, made it easier for you to understand why your son was so excited to come back.

liebe geht durch den magen (♡) → There seems to be someone mysteriously delivering food to Kaz's office when he least expects it, but who could be the culprit for this disgusting(ly sweet) act?

The two of you had some ‘unresolved romantic tension’, as Jesper would like to call it whenever he saw Kaz staring for a bit too long and caring just a little bit too much. But no, he didn’t have feelings for you.

i can't deny it any longer (♡) → An unlikely friendship gets revealed, and the Crows intend to make more of it.

“Don’t get me started.” You got him started. In fact, his rant almost took one hour, only allowing you to give some sparse comments in between.

five things you can see (☆) → Kaz comes to comfort the reader after a panic attack.

Kaz and you had an utterly different upbringing and quite the contrasting set of morals, however, that didn’t stifle the connection you began to establish. It had been a rocky path to get to the point where the two of you were now, but after being part of his life for the majority of his later teenage years and adulthood made one thing abundantly clear: You needed each other.

take my hand and don't let go (☾ / ☆ / ♡) → A job gone wrong forces the reader to do something she had tried to avoid: touching Kaz.

Your body hit the concrete ground with a firm thud, rendering you unable to move for a few moments after the impact. Everything around you was spinning, and you felt as if you had just lost the majority of your ability to hear, but staying on the ground wasn’t an option.

someone could lose a heart tonight (☾ / ☆ / ♡) → Kaz develops a crush on a Heartender!Reader, and thinks he's being good at hiding his feelings. Turns out, he really isn't.

This behaviour made you curious. His motions were uneasy - nervous. And Kaz Brekker was never nervous. And if he ever was, he wouldn't be inclined to display it this openly.

just deadweight (☾ / ☆) → Opposites attract, but they also make a damn good breeding ground for conflict and self-esteem issues.

So when it became obvious that the Bastard of the Barrel had developed feelings for someone that went against every single one of these traits, no one really seemed to be able to understand what exactly he saw in you. But oddly enough, the two of you worked. Somehow, everything between you made a stunning sort of sense.

hot chocolate (♡) → The reader convinces Kaz to drink a hot chocolate with them.

“The last time I had a cup of hot chocolate was when I was six. I burnt my tongue and promised myself to never drink one again. So I fear your threat won’t have much of an effect on me,” he replied dryly, pointedly ignoring the utterly shocked expression on your face.

right where you left me (♡) → Kaz sends the reader off to go travel with Inej, but didn't expect him missing them this much.

"You request I take Y/N with me when I leave for Ravka." He mentally shooed away the frown that threatened to crease his face. She was right, that was exactly what he wanted to ask her. But hearing her say the words out loud forced the vague idea to manifest into reality. And knowing that she could read him this easily deflated his ego quite a bit.

lose you all the same (☆ / ♡) → Three years after their break-up, the reader is forced to return to Ketterdam and old feelings resurface.

The Zemeni boy scrunched up his nose in dismay, a habit he had picked up from the merchling whenever he was apprehensive to do something. “They are back in Ketterdam.”

two-parters

fingers crossed pt. 1┃pt. 2 (☾ / ☆) → Hiding an injury from someone as meticulous as Kaz is never a good idea. But what if a hidden injury came to light managed to lead to a long-awaited confession?

He thought about the previous moments. The absolute instinct to feel her temperature. To touch her without his gloves. His protective shield. Why did he do this? Was this the reason for the panic he was in?

never to touch and never to keep pt. 1┃pt. 2 (☾ / ☆ / ♡) → Kaz Brekker doesn’t say goodbye, he just lets go. However, his friends won’t accept that.

He should’ve apologized. He should’ve followed you. He should’ve dropped everything to keep you in his life. He should’ve done something. But he didn’t.

set it up pt. 1┃pt. 2 (♡) → Wylan and Jesper are helplessly pining over each other, and everyone is starting to get sick of it. Especially Kaz and the reader seem to have suffered enough under their friends' behaviour. So of course, the only reasonable conclusion is to set them up.

“Think about it. I’m Wylan’s best friend, you’re Jesper’s best friend - don’t you dare deny it! Together we can get all the intel - all the important information on how they feel about each other. It’s perfect! We could set them up and they wouldn’t even notice our involvement.”

#kaz brekker x reader #kaz brekker imagine #Kaz Brekker #kaz brekker fanfic #kaz brekker masterlist #six of crows #six of crows x reader #six of crows imagine #six of crows duology #shadow and bone x reader #netflix shadow and bone #Grishaverse #grishaverse x reader #grishaverse fanfic

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gucciwins · 2 years

Text

because of me?

Will Harry be able to find his way back to his family?

Word count: 6548

A/N: hi friends! you all wanted a part two so i hope you all read the conclusion to the styles family as they navigate through a hard time. please come tell me what you thought i really enjoyed writing this part even if it took me a month to decide what direction i wanted to go.

Warnings: angst (happy ending)

Part One: why is daddy sad?

_____

After Harry left, Y/N wasn’t sure how to feel.

A part of her felt guilty for not having done anything sooner, and another felt abandoned because, in three months, he managed to leave them with a goodbye and a kiss to each of them. Saylor, the oldest, understood that Harry wouldn’t be there anymore and that he might be happy for a change. While Lucy understood he was going on a long trip and returning in a few weeks.

Except, a few weeks turned into two months. The US tour kept getting extended as fans begged for more and more dates. There was an album to release soon, and Y/N knew nothing about it when most times, Harry was excited to share his ideas with her. She was always one of the first to listen, and now this new album, she did not have a single idea of what it was about.

Harry’s calls were not frequent, but when he did call, he talked to the kids for hours, sometimes draining her phone battery and cutting him off mid-story. Lucy, Y/N noticed, held on to Harry’s every word. Her eyes would widen in amazement when he’d show them the stage and even sitting in Sarah’s seat in front of the drums. While Saylor sat there asking a few questions and listening to his dad. There was a disconnect from Saylor; with Y/N, he was her affectionate and bubbly son, but with Harry, he became silent, almost closed off she wanted to say.

“Saylor?”

“Yeah, mum.”

“Do you want to make cookies with me?”

“Brownies?” He countered.

Y/N chuckled, having expected the answers. “Yes, baby. I have everything ready.”

“Can you tie my apron, Mumma?”

Saylor quickly grabbed the apron Y/N leaves hanging in the kitchen for both him and Lucy when they have the sudden urge to help her in the kitchen. Y/N guides Saylor in turning around and makes a knot for him, tight enough it won’t be loose but easy enough for Saylor to tug on and take off when they finish.

He turns around with a dimpled smile, “ready, Mumma!”

His apron reads “Chef Saylor,” embroidered in red thread on his chest. It was a gift from Gemma, and she made sure to make one for Lucy, although she prefers sitting on the countertop and munching on fruits and chocolates.

The process of baking goes pretty well. Y/N keeps a watchful eye on Lucy as she plays with the monster trucks her friend Griffin gifted Lucy for her birthday last month. Harry made it back for the party and left soon after, to no one’s surprise.

“Petal?”

“Yes, Mumma,” he answers while staying focused on mixing the ingredients.

“Are you feeling alright?”

“Happy.”

“That’s good. Right now?”

“Mhm…”

She hesitated but knew she needed to try because when she was young and hurting, Y/N hated that her parents never knew she was upset or angry that she had to wear a mask all the time.

“Are you happy all the time?”

Y/N saw him stop mixing for a second before continuing like nothing had happened.

“Think it’s finished,” he moved the bowl over to Y/N, who didn’t push him and let him help pour the batter into the pan. She did the final step alone, not wanting Saylor to get burned from the preheated oven.

“Job well done, Saylor.”

Saylor stepped off his stool and gave your waist a tight squeeze.

“Love you, Mumma.”

“I love you so much, petal. Now go wash up. I’ll clean the dishes.”

He runs up the steps, and Y/N sighs. It’s hard being a single parent. It’s even harder having no one to talk this out with. She really is all alone in this when Y/N was promised she would never be.

_____

Dinner and brownies were a success.

Y/N is in bed reading her book when she hears a small knock on the door and sees it being pushed open. Saylor, in his snug Bluey pajama set, walks towards her.

“My little love, you alright? Can’t sleep.”

He nods his head. He climbs up on the bed. Y/N giggles as she watches him shake off his slippers from his feet. “Come on, I’ll give you cuddles.”

Saylor gives her a giant smile, hurrying to get tucked under the blankets. He lets out a deep sigh when he’s settled next Y/N.

“Alright, Mumma was reading. Is it okay if I do that for a little longer, or do you want to sleep?”

“Can we sleep, please?”

Y/N grins pushing his hair out of his face to look at his face that resembles every bit of Harry from when he was a child. “Let’s sleep, then.”

She reaches to turn off the light and slides lower to rest her head on her pillow, letting Saylor adjust himself as he lays his head on her chest. Y/N runs her hand down his back in soothing circles, hoping it will help him sleep. It’s quiet, and she thinks he’s gone down when she finally decides to close her eyes and do the same.

“Mummy?”

“Saylor? Are you okay?”

“Is Daddy coming back?”

“Not for a few weeks. Remember he told you he’s singing for his fans every night.” Y/N doesn't know where the conversation is heading, but she doesn't feel ready. “He’s going to call tomorrow. You can ask him when he's coming home. You know Daddy loves talking to you.”

“What if he’s not coming home?”

“Saylor,”

“What if he loves his fans more than us, and he forgets about us?”

“Saylor, your dad loves you. He tells you every time he calls.”

“Not like you, not all day.”

She sighs, “no, not every day.”

“You love us?”

“More than all the stars in the universe,” she reminds him.

“Enough, that’s enough,” he whispers.

Y/N feels her heartbreak, her son is so young, but he picks up on the emotions and dynamics of the relationship really well. This is more than Y/N was prepared for; maybe it’s time for a visit to a therapist because Saylor, from a young age, picked up on Harry’s sadness and now questioning his father’s love and his place in their family is a lot for a child to process and Y/N can only do so much. She needs help, and it’s okay to ask for it.

Maybe it was time Y/N went as well.

_____

Harry loved being on stage.

He knew he had to thank his wife for the reason he was back on stage. Harry loved his family, but something was missing as he became a stay-at-home father. He enjoyed the studio time, but he craved being on stage and interacting with the fans who gave him everything.

Except, it wasn’t the fans who helped him accomplish all his dreams. It was Y/N, a selfless Y/N who always put others above herself, and this time no different. She went above and beyond, and what did Harry do to repay her? He left her alone with their two children. It wouldn’t be easy, but she had a support team around her, and he knew she would be fine.

At least, that’s what he told himself over and over. The truth is he doesn’t know how to begin to help his wife. It’s a big reason he was glad his team made his first show in America because his therapist, whom he stopped talking to years ago, lives and works there. Harry felt he got to a point in his life where it was no longer necessary, but that isn’t true. He needs it more than ever, especially if he wants to be a better man for his family.

Change won’t come in a day, and for the time being, he will prove to Y/N and their kids that he’s the father and husband they deserve.

He’ll go home soon, but when he does, he wants to be his best version.

_____

Holiday vacations are around the corner, and the kids miss their dad. Lucy talks about him constantly, more than ever, and how he promised to play mermaids with her when he’s home for Christmas. Y/N doesn’t know how much she believes him, but she’s willing to give him a chance to prove himself. While Saylor is doing better. The therapist said it’s normal for Y/N to feel hurt and sad that she couldn’t do more for her child because it means she’s doing the right thing. She put her feelings aside to help her child.

Y/N began going to therapy herself. She did it when she was younger after her mother passed away unexpectedly but stopped when visits became low and few. Kirsten says it might even be a good idea to bring in Lucy, but Y/N wants to take it step by step, not wanting to overwhelm her children. Saylor says he’s enjoying the sessions because he gets to talk and play with different toys some days, even paint. Y/N is overall relieved that she made the right choice for her family. She knows she should have spoken to Harry, but Y/N, never knowing his exact schedule or how she was doing, felt it was not the right time to discuss with him, especially over the phone.

Lucy had been complaining about missing Harry, and Saylor also jumped in, stating they missed hearing him sing. Y/N’s never known how to say no to her kids, so with a single text to Jeff, he sent back a confirmation of three plane tickets that would take them to Chicago, where Harry was in town for three days before the next city.

Packing their bags was easy due to their excitement, but Y/N had a pit of anxiety sitting in her stomach that she could not shake. Sarah assured her that Harry would be happy to see them when Y/N texted her to let her know she was planning a visit. Y/N felt the most nervous because she was surprising Harry when he never asked them to come out and support him since he started touring. It’s something that had always been on her mind. It made her feel as if he was doing his best to keep both sides of his life separate when she thought that Harry would have found his way back to her

Saylor and Lucy were excellent during the eight-hour flight. Maybe they could sense her nerves or were just as nervous as she was in the moment to see Harry again. There’s a car waiting for them at the airport with a driver. As much as Y/N wanted to drive in the city, it's been too long since she’s driven in America. The car seats for the children are luxurious, and it makes Y/N wonder as she’s buckling in Lucy if they went out of their way to buy them for her children or got them on loan from somewhere. Either way, she’s thankful.

Lucy slept most of the flight, while Saylor slept on and off. She knew the jet lag would hit them hard as they’re not used to traveling, at least not the time change in America. Y/N made sure to take her children on trips through their neighboring countries. Harry would join them all the time, making traveling easier but being alone with two kids under six, she prefers to visit places close to home.

“Yes, we’ve arrived.” She looks behind her, sighing in relief as her children look out the windows, amazement shown in their eyes. “They’re fine. A bit tired, but we’re going to eat and try to sleep in a few hours if any of us can make it that long. Love you.” Y/N hangs up her phone turning to look at her children once more, “Nana says she loves you so much and that you better take lots of photos to show her when we go home.”

“Love Na,” Lucy whispers.

“Nana Anne, miss us?” Saylor asks.

“So much, says she’s got a surprise for when we go home.”

“Yay,” both Saylor and Lucy cheer together.

After texting Jeff that they had landed, he told her the driver would be bringing them to the venue where they all were rehearsing for the show tomorrow. Y/N knew that meant it was only a matter of minutes before she was reunited with Harry, and their children would get to spend time with him for longer than ten minutes.

Jeff waved at them as the car parked in the empty lot, helping Saylor unbuckle while Y/N got Lucy out, who chose to stay in her arms. Saylor rushed over to Y/N to hold her free hand. Jeff promised all their stuff would be taken to their hotel room, and she knew he meant into the room they would be sharing with Harry.

Y/N stayed quiet, listening to Lucy talk Jeff’s ear off about how excited she was to see her Daddy. She missed him so much, and listening to his music was boring when he wasn’t there to dance and sing with her. Y/N realized Saylor was nervous. His hand was sweating, but he didn’t let go of Y/N’s hand. No, his hold on her hand tightened as they were guided to the area where Harry was hanging out with his bandmates.

“Harry,” Jeff yelled, cutting off all the conversations in the room. “Got some visitors.” He moves out of the way, allowing Y/N to walk into the room. Saylor follows close behind. The room is silent for a few seconds before Lucy starts bouncing in Y/N’s arms, excitedly chanting Daddy.

“You’re here,” he breathes out. His eyes locked on Y/N first, then shifted to Lucy and Saylor. Their son stayed right by her side while Lucy began reaching forward, begging for Harry to take her in his arms.

Harry quickly crossed the room and took Lucy from Y/N, spinning her around as her laugh rang loud in the room. Y/N shuffled in closer with Saylor at her side. Sarah came to say hello first; it was her godson, after all.

“My little Saylor, you’re so big,” Sarah greeted, crouching down to his size. He moved away and jumped into his godmother’s waiting arms.

“Missed you.” He whispered low enough for only the three of them could hear.

“He’s been playing that bongo drum. You got him like crazy.”

Saylor nods his head excitedly, “can I play your drums?”

Sarah laughs, “I’m sure we can work something out.”

Y/N knows Harry’s coming back over because Saylor’s hand made its way back into hers. Lucy is now running around, introducing herself to everyone as if they don’t remember who she is. Most of the team here today were there for Y/N and Harry during the early years of their children’s lives.

“Hi, Saylor,” Harry greets, copying what Sarah did, getting down to be at his level. “I’ve missed you so much. You look so big, soon you might be bigger than Mummy.”

Saylor giggles, “you think so?”

“Of course, you might be taller than Mitch, too,” Harry teased.

“Ha,” Mitch laughed dryly as he let Lucy sit on his lap as she told him about her journey on the plane and how the nice airplane lady gave her apple juice.

The tension is gone, and it warms her heart to see Harry and Saylor sharing a long embrace. Y/N feels guilty because she’s the reason why her children don’t see their father every day anymore, but she also feels guilty for letting Harry be unhappy for so long. Lost in thought, she doesn’t seem to realize Harry standing in front of her, rocking on his heels as if he’s waiting for permission to touch her. Instead of overthinking what she should do, she does what she wants, which is to give her husband a hug.

She hears him let out a deep sigh, breathing her in. It's been a long time since she allowed herself to relax, but being here with his arms wrapped tight around her, she knows she belongs here. She just doesn’t know if Harry still thinks she does.

“Thank you for the surprise,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to her temple.

“Glad you liked it.”

“Daddy, Daddy?” Lucy pulls on his jeans, asking for attention.

Y/N pulls away from him, laughing as Lucy and Saylor wait for Harry to let go of her and pay attention to them. “Duty calls,” she jokes.

“Oi, what are you going to do?”

“She’ll be in good hands with me,” Sarah interrupts, dropping her hand over Y/N’s shoulder. “Now go. Your children have missed you.”

Harry gives Y/N one last look, and she nods, assuring him it’s okay.

Y/N really hopes the trips end well because a big reason she brought them out to visit wasn’t just for Saylor and Lucy but for herself to ask Harry where they stand. It’s important she finds out because she doesn’t want to suffer any more heartbreak.

_______

The night together at the hotel had gone well. Y/N was relieved when Saylor and Lucy settled for bed at eight pm that they even managed to stay awake so long, but she knew it was all because of Harry. Y/N wanted to stay up to talk with Harry and see how he felt because she didn’t want him to feel like she ambushed him, that she wanted to see him, that the kids did. Instead, as she waited for him to exit the bathroom, she fell asleep, the exhaustion of traveling hitting her like a truck now that everything had settled. Y/N swears she felt a kiss on her head and a blanket placed over her as she fell asleep. It’s the safest she’s felt in months.

Morning came all too soon when Saylor and Lucy jumped into their bed. Y/N and Harry shared a bed for the first time in months, and she was glad they woke her up, not allowing a moment of awkwardness to settle over them. Lucy demanded they feed her while Saylor reminded her to say please. Y/N laughed because she felt like a family, and looking over at Harry showering Saylor in kisses as Lucy sat on her stomach poking at Y/N’s face, she wondered if Harry felt the same.

“Come on, my loves. I’ll let you take a look at the menu and order whatever you want,” Harry coaxed them hoping to call them down.

“Anything?” Lucy shrieked.

Harry’s eyes widened before glancing at Y/N, who did her best to bite back a smile, “I’m afraid I’ve used the wrong word.”

Y/N shrugs, “make sure you include some fruits in there, but no-”

“Blueberries, Lucy’s allergic,” he finishes for Y/N.

“If I eat blueberries, will I become like the girl in Charlie’s factory?”

“You will not become like Violet, little lady,” Harry chuckles, “but if you did, we’d still love you.”

“We’ll always love you, Luce. No matter what,” Saylor chimed in, and Y/N felt her heart grow ten times the size.

There was a lot to discuss with Harry, but today, she’d enjoy the day with her family and feel proud to see Harry on stage doing what he loves.

______

The venue was chaotic, and Saylor and Lucy loved it. They saw someone doing something new at every turn, fixing lights or cooking food. It wasn’t until they saw the fans being let in did they gasp that all those people were there for their Daddy. It felt nice to allow them the experience of seeing Harry do what he loves. Y/N told Harry she wanted to walk around. She can’t remember the last time she was backstage at a venue. Y/N had been with Harry for so long that she feels she has visited so many arenas and stadiums, but she will never get over the friendly environment that Harry and their team maintain. Many of these people working backstage are the ones she saw when she first came out to see Harry. He prides himself in working with the people he trusts and has built a relationship with, and Y/N knows he cares for each person on his team.

He promised her he’d take care of Saylor and Lucy, promising he’d agree to everything they asked for, and she knew he was teasing but also wouldn’t put it past him. If Lucy asked him for a pony, Y/N’s sure he’d have it waiting for her as soon as she was back in London. Y/N knew Harry wanted to get Saylor his own drum kit already, but Y/N wasn’t ready for the loud noise that would never end.

“Take your time, love. I’m in good hands,” he teased.

“We take care of Daddy, like you taught us,” Saylor promises.

The show was set to start at nine, with the opener going on at eight, meaning she had roughly an hour and a half before she needed to go back and let Harry get ready without the distraction of two children who had a new question every second. Y/N spent time roaming the green room and speaking with the band, who were all too happy to ask her questions about her job and life in their London home. After excusing herself, she made her way through the hallways until she reached a black curtain allowing herself to take a peek at the fans there tonight. Harry had mentioned it being a sold-out show and that all tickets went to fans. They worked hard on keeping prices fair to fans, no longer allowing platinum tickets to be sold, not at the cost of his fans.

She stepped out, and the loud chatter of the arena echoed around her. There were many empty seats, as it was early but the pit was as packed as ever. Fans turned around, trying to see who was excited, but no one gave her a second glance. Her relationship with Harry is something they kept quiet about their first year. After Harry accidentally posted a photo of her on his Instagram story with a “happy anniversary” sticker, fans pieced it all together. In an interview with Zane Lowe, he happily shared that he was in love and happy that was all that should matter to his fans. The only posts about their children to this point are each child’s birth; that is how she hopes it stays until they’re older.

Y/N was glad she wasn’t easily recognizable to fans. At least, she thought she wasn’t until she saw someone with a plate of nachos in her hand going to sit against a wall and waving at her. Y/N turned around, wondering if she meant someone else, but once she saw the fan laugh, she sent a small wave back. She took that as her cue to leave in case others started to notice because Y/N’s sure the fan would be quick to spread the word as respectful as she was.

As she crosses back backstage, she finds Jeff and Tom talking. They stop when they see her, bringing her in for a hug.

“Hi, taking a tour, I see,” Jeff says, noting where she was coming from.

“Mhmm, was uh getting restless not being able to explore.”

“Harder with two kids, huh.” Tom comments.

Y/N laughs, “oh yeah, those two are curious. They got that from Harry. If they could, I’m sure they’d open every door backstage.”

“Are they with H?”

“Last I checked, unless he passed them off,” Y/N jokes.

“Are you kidding? He’s wrapped around those two fingers. The only person he allows to take them is you because you’re his favorite person,” Jeff shares.

“And their mother,” Tom chimes in.

Y/N is surprised at everything he’s saying because, for the longest time, she didn’t feel like it. She still doesn’t.

“Honestly, we’re all glad you texted us. This is the happiest we’ve seen him.” Jeff mutters his agreement.

Y/N frowns, “what do you mean?”

Tom and Jeff share a look before answering. “That he’s happy to be touring and on the road again, but….”

“Come on, might as well tell me.”

Tom sighs, “he comes off stage upset or tired and always heads to bed.”

“Are you saying he wants us here?” Y/N questions because it doesn’t make sense to her.

“The last time he toured, who was the first person he went to after he ran off?” Jeff asked.

“Me,” she whispered. “But he wanted this.” Y/N gestures to everything around her.

Jeff shrugs, “he did, but not like he was expecting.”

Y/N sighs, running a hand down her face trying to take in this information. “I’m not uprooting my kids to follow him on tour. We’ve got stability. They’ve got a routine and a lot of family at home.”

“We know you do,” Tom assures you. “Harry raves about how amazing of a mother you are. He really feels that he’s failed. He failed you and the kids, but there’s nothing he can do now, not with a sold-out tour.”

“Hmm…he hasn’t told me. Or when we talk, it’s about the kid. I assumed–I don’t know, really. Feels like we lost him or that I did, at least.” Y/N didn’t think she’d share this with anyone other than her therapist, but she’s always trusted them. They’re her friends as well.

As she walks away to find her children, she doesn’t know Harry is behind her, having heard every last word, having gone to get Lucy and Saylor an ice cream. It’s time to prove to Y/N that he was there for her.

Harry loved his wife. Without her, he wouldn’t have his two biggest blessings. He wouldn’t know what it’s like to be loved. He wouldn’t have built a beautiful life without her, and he took that for granted. He took her heart and stored it away because he was too weak to ask for help. He left her alone for too long, but he would change that. He had to. There was no way he would lose her, not when he loved her with everything in him, his heart and soul belonged to her.

______

The energy for tonight was on a new level; he knew it was because his family was in the audience. He was so happy that he decided to mention it, not allowing cameras to zoom their way because his children were not something he shared with fans or the media, something he and Y/N agreed on from the moment they found out she was pregnant with Saylor.

Harry kept an eye on them the entire night, sending them kisses and dancing their way. The minute he got off stage, an excited Saylor bounded into his sweaty arms while a sleepy Lucy was in Y/N’s arms fighting sleep.

“Daddy! That was awesome.” Saylor yelled, letting Harry slip off his headphones as Harry settled him on his hip.

“Mhm, awesome,” Lucy mumbled, tucking her head deeper into Y/N’s shoulder.

Harry laughs, “thank you, my loves.” He pressed a kiss to Saylor’s cheek and then to Lucy’s. “What did Mummy think?”

“You were wonderful, H. Always a shining star up there,” Y/N leaned in and offered him a kiss on his cheek. Y/N swore she could see a blush on his cheeks as she pulled away.

“Thank you.” Harry clears his throat, “how about we head to bed, huh?”

“Please,” Lucy whispered, causing them all to laugh.

It was the sweetest after-show reunion, and Harry laughed as he noticed cameras pointed in every direction from their team, having captured the special moment. “I’m expecting to see those photos in my messages tomorrow.”

A course of “yes, boss” rang loud as Y/N and Harry helped their kids settle in their car seats, Lucy slowly falling asleep as they began the drive to the hotel.

“Y/N?” Harry asked as they each worked on changing their children into their pajamas. Both children fell asleep on their way to the hotel.

“Hmm…”

“Thank you.” He starts, “for uh, coming tonight.”

“Course, they really missed you.”

“I missed them too.” They fall silent. “I missed you too, Y/N. So much.”

Y/N flashes him a timid smile. “I missed you too.”

After settling both children under the covers, Y/N flipped on the small lamp light and walked out, wanting to get undressed and to bed. She saw Harry in the bathroom and decided changing in the room would be better. She saw a shirt on the chair, and she swore it was hers, so she slipped it on and climbed under the covers, sighing as she felt herself sink into the king-sized bed. Y/N shut the lights off and closed her eyes. Y/N’s not sure how long had passed, but she felt Harry slipping in next to her. He scooted close to her but not enough to touch her, and a part of her was screaming at him to get closer, but she remained still.

“Honey, do you think we can talk?” Harry asked, turning on the small lamp by the bedside.

“Right now?” She blinked one eye open. Harry was lying on his side, staring at her. He shook his head no.

“I, uh, was thinking maybe we can have dinner together tomorrow. Jeff offered to watch the kids.”

“Okay, H. That’s fine. I’m sure we can talk and have dinner with the kids too.”

“If you want, but uh,” Harry feels his throat tighten. He’s so nervous, “thought it could be a date.”

Y/N doesn’t do well hiding the surprise on her face. “A date?”

He nodded, keeping his eyes locked with hers trying to see if he could see what she was feeling, but it was like staring at a wall. She was always so good at hiding her emotions. Harry let her think about it, the silence making his heart race until he saw her offer him the tiniest smile.

“Okay, Harry. It’s a date.”

_______

“You look pretty, Mummy?” Lucy tells Y/N as she sees her finishing the application of her lipstick. Y/N had to sit Lucy in the sink as she had woken up practically clingy this morning; not that Y/N minded but having to do makeup with a toddler on her hip would not be easy. She was playing with the eyeshadow pallet, swiping it down her arms and gasping when she saw how shimmery it made her arms.

“Think so?” Y/N presses a kiss to the top of Lucy’s head with nods enthusiastically

“Promise,” she affirms, although it sounded more like ‘poise’ as Lucy still had not quite mastered her “R’s.”

“Give me a kiss,” Lucy perked up, carefully turning around to not hurt herself. Y/N leaned down and let Lucy press a peck to Y/N’s lips.

“Thanks, petal. You’re the sweetest.” Y/N lifts her up and sets Lucy on her hip. “Let’s go find Saylor and Daddy.”

Lucy sighs, knowing she will say goodbye to her mum for the night. Walking out of the restroom, Y/N finds Harry sitting on the couch, flowers in his lap, with Saylor standing before him, taking his photo. Y/N cooed at the sight because Saylor recently learned to take pictures and took any opportunity to showcase his skills.

“I see Saylor’s found a new muse,” Y/N laughs when Harry startles, jumping up from the couch, barely catching the flowers in his lap.

“Daddy!” Saylor scolds.

“Sorry, lovie.” Harry turns to Y/N, his smile widening as he sees his two girls in front of him. “These are for you,” he extends the flowers for Y/N to take, but Lucy accepts them for her.

“Pretty.”

Y/N giggles, “very pretty.”

“Are you ready to head out?” Harry asks as he watches Y/N set down Lucy, who runs to show Jeff the flowers.

“Mhmm…all good.”

“Petals, come give Mummy and Daddy a kiss,” Y/N calls for them, kneeling next to Harry to accept the two running toddlers into her open arms. She would have fallen back by the force they rushed into her if Harry didn’t have a hold on her. She shoots him a grateful smile as she presses three kisses each to Saylor and Lucy before passing them over to Harry, who promises to take good care of Mummy.

Y/N walks out, and together they head down the hall. She feels nervous because this dinner has the power to break her or mend her heart. It was only a matter of time until she finds out.

______

Harry brought her to a family restaurant. It wasn’t a stuffy, uptight restaurant like she was expecting because Harry knew she never liked those restaurants that gave people food portions so small that it never filled a person up. Y/N grins as he pushes her chair in. She is still recovering from Harry opening her car door and offering her his arm. He’s the gentleman he was for the entirety of their relationship until she lost him.

The conversation is slow, primarily focused on the tour and their kids. Y/N laughs when she realizes this feels like a first date, this was how nervous she was in Jamaica after he approached her asking for the chance to take her on a date, but she said no because she was on holiday and lucky for her, he was as well. After learning more about him and falling for his charm, she said yes, and she would not change a thing because it brought her back to him.

Harry is the one to steer the conversation bringing up how he’s been doing. He has bad days, but they aren’t awful where he shuts down. He shares about his therapist and how comfortable he feels talking to someone, that he went too long holding in all his feelings. Y/N feels guilty, and Harry knows that. He reminds her it’s not her fault, that she did the best they could by putting their children first. It made him feel safe knowing that Saylor and Lucy were being taken care of by someone who would lay their life down for them.

“Do–would you be up for couple’s therapy?”

Y/N gestures for him to explain.

“Marina says that it’s important we talk about this as a neutral place, and a therapist is a good place to start. We both went through a hard time, and it’s important we talk about everything that happened.”

She agrees, “we can do that.”

“Good, uh, thank you.”

“Saylor started seeing a therapist.”

Harry’s eyes widened in surprise, “because of me?”

Y/N grimaces, “he had a hard time seeing you connect more with him and Lucy through a phone, and there was only so much I could do alone.”

She sees him deflate, “H, don’t take all the blame, don’t let it sink you.”

He sniffles, “I hurt him. I hurt you all.”

“Saylor’s healing. We all are. You’re making an effort,” she assures him.

“I want to be a better father and partner.”

Y/N nods, but something is nagging at the back of her mind. “Jeff mentioned extending the tour.”

And he sighs. It’s true.

“Summer tour. In Europe.”

“Mhm…”

“Would–” he fumbles, trying to find the words. “I know work is important, and our kids are priority number one but would you be up to joining me in the summer?”

“Summer on tour?” She repeats.

“The kids aren’t in school, and if you’re able to use some time off with us for even a week or two, uh, I miss you all so much when I’m away.”

“You really want us there?”

“Course I do. Think I played my best show last night having you all there.” It’s what everyone has been telling her that it was his best show since his return.

“I’m—so– confused.”

“Of what, lovie?” Harry thought he had put everything out in the open.

“You didn’t ask us to visit you. Or ask us to go on tour with you. You just left, H, and that hurt as much as having you home and ignoring us,” Y/N pours her heart out to him.

He drops his head, letting out a deep breath. “You’ve always reminded me that you wanted to give Lucy and Saylor stability. Me being selfish to bring you out would have—I thought it would make you think I was careless and only thought about myself.”

“You put them first.”

“They have always come first. I just honestly got lost. Marina, my therapist, said that after giving up something I’ve known basically all my life, I wasn’t ready to let it go like I said I was. And all my repressed feelings took over.”

“They’re the priority Harry, promise me?”

Harry agrees, “they’re my priority but so are you.”

She stays silent for a moment, before nodding. “We can talk to the kids tomorrow and ask them how they feel about touring with you for the summer.”

Harry’s eyes brighten, “just them?

She shakes her head. “If they’re a yes, so am I,” she tells him.

“Do you still love me?” Harry asks.

She sighs, “Harry.”

“I love you, Y/N. I will always love you, and I’m sorry I made you doubt my love but never again. I’ll prove it to you every day. I just need to know if I have a chance.” Harry pleads, and Y/N believes every single word.

“Of course I do. I’d let you break my heart ten times over if it means I get the chance to love you.”

Y/N sees his eyes well up with tears and leans close to catch a tear that falls down his face. “You love me?”

“I love you,” she confirms.

“I love you, too. Never stopped loving you, just got lost.”

Y/N and Harry settle in comfortable silence. She scoots her chair closer to him, reaching for his hand and intertwining it with hers. Harry squeezes tight before bringing it to his lips and giving her a gentle kiss on the back of her hand.

“Never going to stop. Heart beats for you as much as it does for Saylor and Lucy.” Y/N confessed, needing him to know that it has always been him.

“I love you, Y/N. I have loved you since our first date in Jamaica, and I’ll never stop reminding you. I know I stopped for some time and made you question me but never again. It’s always you. It will always be you.”

And she believed him.

Everything wasn’t perfect, far from it, but there’s a clear path in front of them that Y/N and Harry look forward to taking together.

_____

thank for you reading!!!!

taglist: @pracstyles @theekyliepage @nightskyladylights @daniellef89x @qualitygiantshoepsychic @harrysgoldenbum @swiftmendeshoran @crazygirlinthisworld @loversgothumour @a-strange-familiar @be-with-me-so-happily @babyiamperfectforyou

#harry styles #harry styles angst #harry styles x reader #harry styles fan ficiton #harry styles sad #harry x reader #dad!harry #harry styles stories #harry styles one shot #harry styles blurb #harry sad #harry angst #harry smut #harry styles story #love on tour #angst

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yourheartonfire · 1 year

Text

"Well, isn't this a pretty picture."

The protagonist jolted up to - oh no. Jolted up from where they'd fallen asleep on the floor of the backshelves, books and notes scattered around them like some kind of nerd bomb had gone off. And the antagonist, their old rival, was standing over them, lamp in hand and that same stupid sneer on their face.

"Shit. I mean..." The protagonist shook their head, trying to clear the cobwebs. "What are you doing here?"

"I work here now," the antagonist said with narrowed eyes. "Which you'd know if you bothered to keep up with changes in your staff. The real question is what are you doing here? Shouldn't you be throwing a diplomatic reception or issuing royal commands or snoozing in the royal sheets?"

"You want a command?" The protagonist pushed themselves up. It was easy to put on the imperious mask when they were so tired and so irritated. "Help me clean this up. Then forget you saw me. Think you can handle that, Second Aide to Librarian?"

The antagonist's face was a study. But they put down the lamp with only a small whunk. "Yes, Your Majesty," they said and started scooping up books into a pile. The protagonist choked back a yawn as they sorted their scrawled pages of notes into piles. For a few moments they worked side by side in silence, the protagonist ignoring the looks the antagonist kept directing to the back of their head.

"I'm sorry... for your loss," the antagonist said stiffly. "I know you were close to Dax."

"Thank you," the protagonist said. It was a rote response now.

"The kingdom of Sterztan?" the antagonist said, rather more tentatively as they glanced at the title. "Don't you have people now to be experts for you?"

"Oh yes." The protagonist folded their notes into a neat stack. "The ambassador to Sterztan is one of my greatest allies on the council. And this morning she looked us all in the face and assured us that Sterztan would never pose a challenge to our metals imports."

The antagonist's brow wrinkled. Their fingers twitched towards the pages in their hands. "But... half Sterztan's economy is based on their silver trade."

"I know." The protagonist rubbed. "So my ally is either an idiot or a liar. Not the kind of research I can outsource to a secretary."

"Ah." The antagonist put down their books on a an empty shelving cart. "So of course you became hyper-obsessed over this and snuck off to waste a night researching something you already knew about Sterztan's economy."

"I didn't sneak anywhere," the protagonist snapped. "I am the crown-"

Abruptly the antagonist moved. Suddenly the protagonist found themselves crowded up against the shelves, the antagonist towering over them. "The crown," they said, "without their guards."

"How dare you!" The protagonist shoved the antagonist back. "Are you insane?"

"Are you?" The antagonist grabbed another book off the floor angrily. "You're our ruler now. I expect you to at least make better use of your time."

"But this is the only thing I'm good at!" the protagonist wailed. The antagonist froze in a half-crouch but the protagonist couldn't stop. Exhaustion and the unfairness of all it was too much. "I'm not supposed to be ruling anything; I was supposed to be here, doing research for Dax while he dealt with all the politics and rituals and lies-"

"Hey, hey, hey." The antagonist was crowding up against them again. But this time it felt... supportive? A warm hand on their back as the protagonist gasped for air through the panicked sobs. "You've got this."

"I really don't," the protagonist moaned. "God, I wish I were you. No that's not true. But I wish I had your job."

"There you go, that sounds more like you." The antagonist tugged at the protagonist's arm insistently, until the two were sitting side by side on the floor. "Okay. I'm going to write you a report."

"I already figured out the Sterztan thing," the protagonist sighed.

"Not about that. About every stupid mistake every great sovereign we've ever had made in their first year as the crown."

The protagonist wiped their nose on their sleeve. "That sounds horrible."

"It will be. But," the antagonist scooted closer. Their hand was still rubbing circles into the protagonist's back. It was weirdly soothing. "My point is that every great sovereign starts out green."

"Green like inexperienced, or green like constantly feeling that you're going to throw up?" the protagonist muttered.

The antagonist grabbed their hand. "I'm saying that once you compare where you are now against where our other sovereigns were in their first year, you're going to see that you're actually doing all right. I'm not going to lie, you're doing a lot better than I thought you would be."

The protagonist huffed a tired laugh. "That sounds... like a nice theory. Got the data to back it up?"

The antagonist quirked their lip. Not quite the same sneer. "Are you ordering up some midnight research?"

The protagonist hauled themselves to their feet. "Nope. You volunteered. I'll expect that report on my desk by tomorrow. That is, tomorrow tomorrow," they added. "Not in - oh, god, in six hours."

"Go to bed," the antagonist said, picking themselves up too. "Good night."

The report was on the protagonist's desk in 10 hours.

#my fiction #royalty #royal x rival #hero x villain #for the genre #fantasci #I guess #100

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cuddleyhoney · 9 months

Text

Healing Times

john wick x reader fluff & angst ❦ (my first request!)

The faint light of evening filtered through the windows as you tidied up the small living space you shared with John. The sound of the door opening drew your attention, and you looked up to see him enter, frustration etched across his features. You could practically feel the tension radiating from him.

"Long day?" you asked gently, offering a small smile despite sensing his mood.

John's exhale was heavy, a mixture of fatigue and irritation. He ran a hand through his hair and shrugged off his jacket, letting it fall onto the couch carelessly. "You could say that."

His tone was sharper than you expected, and your heart tightened with a familiar feeling. You had your own experiences with trauma, and sometimes even the slightest change in tone or demeanor could trigger your defenses. But you pushed those feelings aside, determined to be there for him.

As John turned his back to you, you followed him, gingerly touching his arm. "Let me help," you offered softly, trying to convey your support.

He barely acknowledged your presence, and the coldness of his response felt like a slap. The memories of past wounds, both physical and emotional, resurfaced, and you felt yourself withdrawing.

In silence, you began to clean the small cuts and bruises on his hands and face. Your touch was gentle, but your emotions were tumultuous. The act of caring for him while feeling shut out hurt more than you cared to admit.

Minutes felt like hours as you continued your task, all the while struggling with your own emotions. The weight of your unspoken words hung heavy in the air, and your lips remained sealed, refusing to release the pain that had taken hold.

Once you finished cleaning his wounds, you looked up at him. His expression had softened as if he had finally realized how his frustration had affected you. But the words still eluded you, trapped beneath layers of fear and hurt.

Later that night, after you had both retreated to the bedroom, you lay side by side in the quiet darkness. The silence between you was palpable, a stark reminder of the emotional distance that had formed. Your back was turned to him, tears stinging your eyes.

John's voice was soft, almost hesitant. "I'm sorry."

The words hung in the air, a fragile bridge between you. And then, he did something unexpected. He pulled you into his arms, holding you tightly against his chest. The warmth of his embrace was both comforting and overwhelming, and despite your hesitations, you found yourself relaxing into it.

"I shouldn't have let my frustration affect you," he murmured, his lips brushing against your forehead.

You blinked back tears, allowing yourself to lean into the embrace. You wanted to speak, to tell him about your own fears and vulnerabilities, but the words remained trapped within you.

Over the next few days, John became unexpectedly clingy, as if trying to make up for his earlier behavior. He held your hand whenever he could, pressed soft kisses to your temple, and even cooked dinner for you – a rare sight indeed. It was his way of making amends, of showing you that he understood the pain he had caused.

One evening, as you sat together on the couch, he turned to you, his gaze sincere. "I'm here for you, too, you know."

His words opened a door you had kept shut for so long. The dam of your emotions broke, and you found yourself finally speaking, sharing your fears, your traumas, and your insecurities. John listened, his grip on your hand never wavering.

In a matter of mere days, he whisked you away on a charming and enchanting getaway, a gesture of atonement that spoke volumes of his affection for you. His love for you ran deep, a truth he held close to his heart. The moments that followed were a tapestry of extravagance and intimacy, carefully woven by his hands.

John reveled in the delight of pampering you, fulfilling your every desire and extending beyond to realms you hadn't even dreamt of. His generosity was boundless, prompting playful jests from his companions who marveled at the extent of devotion he showered upon you.

Together, you reveled in each other's presence, the days a symphony of stolen kisses, gentle embraces, and other private activities that turned your surroundings into witnesses of passion. The walls of the hotel room bore witness to the fervor that enveloped you, your connection so palpable it transcended the mere confines of space.

Amidst it all, the sounds that emanated from your haven of love were like melodies, punctuating the air with whispers of desire and unspoken promises. Even the neighbors couldn't help but offer complaints, a testament to the intensity of the emotions shared within those four walls.

In those stolen moments, you and John Wick wrote your own symphony of love, a composition of ardor and affection that echoed through the corridors of your hearts.

As the sun dipped below the horizon on the final day of your getaway, a tranquil sense of contentment settled over the both of you. You stood together on the shore, the soft caress of the sea breeze mingling with the warmth of your intertwined fingers.

John's gaze held a mixture of fondness and reluctance, as if he wished to freeze this moment in time. His eyes met yours, and in that unspoken exchange, you knew that the trip had brought you even closer, deepening the bond between you.

"I hope this was enough to make up for the misunderstanding," he said softly, his voice carrying a tenderness that touched your heart.

A smile tugged at the corners of your lips as you leaned in to place a gentle kiss on his cheek. "More than enough, John. Every moment with you is a treasure."

He returned the smile, a rare display of vulnerability that left you breathless. In that moment, you realized that the adventure was just a chapter in your ongoing journey together.

the end! <3 I hope this is enjoyed :) xoxo

#john wick au #john wick x y/n #keanu reeves #john wick x reader #john wick imagine #fanfic #john wick headcanons #john wick #john wick fanfic #cute

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erin-bo-berin · 2 years

Note

ok, Erin! A couple of notes here. I haven’t seen you write too much explicitly kink stuff yet, so if you’re not into this then OFC no worries! I also realize this is a ridiculously long request, and everything might not fit well into one fic… I don’t want to push you into a many-hour ordeal loool so feel free to use whatever’s inspiring and cut the rest, or break it into parts, or ignore this req altogether. love youuu ☄️

Steve’s wanted kids forever, so when you finally agree to start your family, he’s over the moon. Steve knew it would be so special, but he didn’t know it would be such a massive turn on. Apparently you’re not the only one experiencing pregnancy cravings…

Seeing your boobs suddenly huge (you show him how they don’t even fit into your bra anymore) and so much more sensitive to his touch has him all hot and bothered. From the day your belly popped out and your stride developed a waddle, he’s been a handsy, horny mess. You’re wetter than ever, constantly groaning as you try to get comfortable or when the baby kicks, and HE’S ONLY HUMAN.

And it’s not just how you look, it’s how you act too. Usually your stubborn independence is one of his favorite things about you, but now you need his help getting around and doing things around the house a lot more often. He loves that you’re finally letting him take care of you and making him feel needed/in charge (including in the bedroom).

Unfortunately, Steve’s super self-conscious about this newfound kink, worried it will totally freak out reader. (Luckily for him, you’re into it.) If he only knew that once he came clean you’d have the kinkiest sex of his life, he wouldn’t have waited so long to tell you.

bonus pts if he calls her babygirl during sex 🥵🥵

I swear you’re gonna kill me (or Steve in this fic 😉). But I 100% believe Steve would get so hot and bothered by his pregnant girl. I mean after all he’d be proud he got her pregnant but then it’s just such a turn on for him. After all, he’s got a breeding kink, why not a pregnancy kink too? 😏

Can’t Keep His Hands To Himself

Steve x Reader

Warnings: Smut, Pregnancy, Sex While Pregnant (I’m sorry this is FILTHY)

Sex while pregnant isn’t exactly uncommon amongst couples.

You and Steve had done it a couple times since you’d fallen pregnant, but it wasn’t until your second trimester approached that things really changed.

Steve had been so excited to know he was going to be a father. It had been the best day of his life when you had agreed to start trying to expand your family—that had quickly been overshadowed by the day you found out you were expecting.

He knew it was something special, he wanted kids badly, anyway. He loved watching you navigating life in the tiniest different ways—learning how to sleep with a growing belly, how to position in if you wanted to wash dishes, realizing that it was slowly getting more difficult to bend down to retrieve something, even if you still were able to somewhat do it.

What he didn’t expect was for him to have cravings as often as you did.

No, he wasn’t craving food at all hours like you, he was just craving you.

Although he was touching you pretty regularly these days, often caressing your bump, he quite honestly couldn’t keep his hands to himself most of the time. In fact, why would he want to?

You breasts had ballooned practically overnight, your body, which he found perfect before pregnancy had suddenly developed even more curves that he wanted to take his time exploring. He tried to mask his true intentions with gentle touches here and there—a hand on your waist, maybe perhaps grazing your ass, a hand high on your belly, just inches from the new, bigger, amazing boobs. If you’d noticed his struggles, you didn’t comment on it.

His attraction to you and developing dream of having amazing sex with you while pregnant just kept deepening, especially one day when you’d complained about how sore your boobs were.

“Look how big they’ve gotten,” you’d said, pulling up your shirt, showing him your bare chest.

He felt like he’d swallowed a watermelon for a good minute there.

He offered, somewhat teasingly—although he had been dead serious—to massage them for you, hoping to help the tenderness. You didn’t expect him to actually take him up on it.

“Come here,” he said, letting you sit down in front of him.

He rested his chin on your shoulder, gently taking your bare breasts in his hands. Just feeling the heaviness of them from your pregnancy nearly made him groan. His palms and fingers massaged gently, hoping to alleviate any lingering pain the tenderness was causing.

When you groaned, his heart leapt in his throat while simultaneously his dick hardened in his pants. He stopped the movements instantly.

“Did I hurt you?!”

He worried he’d pressed too hard—he was also worried you’d soon discover his own hard problem.

“No, that feels good,” you grunted, “They’ve been sorry and heavy for a few days. That helped a lot.”

You smiled, turning around to kiss his cheek.

“Thanks babe,” you called as you headed to the bathroom, pulling your shirt back down.

Steve flung himself backwards on the bed, arm covering his eyes.

The second you left the bathroom, he was taking a cold shower. Again.

•

By the time you reached the six month mark, you had already had a slight waddle to your walk and Steve was positive he’d run the water bill sky high from the amount of cold showers he’d been taking lately.

You’d had sex occasionally, but Steve was too worried to really share his desire, afraid you’d be too weirded out or worried for the baby. The last time you’d been intimate had been nearly a month ago and it was the typical missionary position. Of course, there was nothing wrong with that an it was a position Steve often loved but his lust and desire for you lately had him craving more. It didn’t help that with pregnancy, your body had had some pleasant changes that were quite the bonus in the bedroom.

You were wetter than ever, practically dripping after a few of his touches, an effect of you being more sensitive. Blood flow to all the right places—according to your gynecologist—was one reason why sex while pregnant felt so good.

Maybe that’s why he was craving it so badly.

You were normally independent and incredibly stubborn, which he loved, but as your pregnancy advanced, you had started asking him for help when you needed it. He was absolutely loving it. It was nice to dote on you and spoil you, like you deserved to be. Especially when you were growing his baby that was running out of room in there, a bit more each day.

He didn’t mind one bit if you asked him to help you sit down in a chair, help you reach something high that you could no longer climb to get or reach for a sock in the washing machine. If you needed help cleaning, he was there. Wanted something to eat and too tired to get it yourself? He’s all yours. Just wanted cuddles and a foot rub? He was happy to oblige.

But, you became more vocal now as you moved, if you were too stiff, or if the baby kicked too hard. He was starting to wonder if it was possible for a dick to fall off from being hard too often. He felt like he walked with a limp as often as you waddled nowadays.

Every moan and groan would send blood straight to his groin and he had to think of anything but how badly he wanted to hear those sounds from you as he fucked you. How those were so similar to your usual sounds of pleasure and how basically those sounds led to the baby in your belly.

One day, maybe out of his mind with desire, he snapped.

“Babe, you’ve got to stop doing that. You’re killing me.”

God, was that his pathetic whimper coming from his mouth? Oh well, he was already too far gone.

“Doing what?” you asked, coming to sit on the bed with a groan.

“That,” he grunted, squeezing his eyes closed as he felt the stirring in his pants, “It’s been driving me crazy for weeks and I’ve been trying to stay strong and not freak you out and—”

“Whoa, whoa, back up big boy,” you chuckled teasingly, “Why are you trying to stay strong? If you wanted to have sex, you could’ve just told me. You don’t have to go without.”

“I know. It’s just I thought it would freak you out since we haven’t done it that much since you got pregnant and I’ve been perpetually hard as a rock for the last two months watching your body change and how even more beautiful it’s become. Like, your boobs are huge and your belly is beautiful and the noises you make, fuck, Y/N. I’ve had to restrain myself from stripping you naked and having steamy, headboard banging the wall, nails down my chest, hot as fuck sex.”

You sat, gaping at him, his desires causing a dull throb to start between your thighs because that sounded amazing.

“So,” you swallowed thickly, “What you’re saying is, you’re even more turned on with me being pregnant and want to fuck me senseless?”

“Basically.”

His tongue swiped across his bottom lip and your eyes fell to the action, wanting it on other places on your body.

“So, why not just say something?”

“I didn’t think you’d want to because you wouldn’t want to hurt the baby or it would be too awkward,” he winced.

“Steve, I’ve been spending weeks just wanting to fuck your brains out.”

Now it was his turn to stare blankly at you. How had he missed that?

“Well, no time to waste then, huh?” he fell backwards on the bed, pulling at your arms for you to follow him.

“Just a moment,” you said, standing, pulling your night gown over your head, leaving you naked other than your panties.

“Goddamn,” he groaned, cock throbbing painfully now as he watched you crawl onto the bed, moving over him at a snail’s pace.

“Get over here,” he groaned, tugging you closer, hands grasping your hips roughly, situating you to sit on his stomach.

He leaned up, bringing his lips to yours in a hungry kiss as he’d been starved of you too long. It was heated, quick and extremely hot. His tongue danced with yours, licking into your mouth and twirling with yours, his hands running up towards your breasts, cupping them in his hands.

You moaned deeply into the kiss as he squeezed and massaged them. They were so sensitive these days and if anytime were possible for you to cum by him just touching them, it was definitely now. Especially as he flicked and pinched your nipples. Each movement sent another wave of molten lava to your underwear.

“You,” you breathed between kisses, “Are way too dressed.”

You inched backwards so you could remove his shirt and you inadvertently rubbed against his bulge making him swear.

“You like that?” you teased, rubbing your clothed crotch over his aching cock, eliciting another moan from him.

You grabbed the hem of his shirt, but he sat up, pulling it off before you could push it up yourself.

You kept grinding against him tantalizingly, a fake pout on your lips.

“Is that what you wanted, big boy?”

Your hands traveled over his stomach and up over his chest, through the patch of dark hair there and kissed his chest.

“What I want,” he halfway growled, pulling you from your current position back towards his stomach, “Is to be buried to the hilt in you when I cum, not in my pants.”

His hands moved lovingly over your belly, giving it a kiss, thankful you didn’t have an issue with this, like he’d convinced himself you would.

You sat back, enough to rid of your underwear, tossing them to the side. You smiled, bending over to connect your lips once again, but didn’t quite get that far. You squealed a bit when he pulled you further up his body, hands and arms wrapped around your thighs. You were level with his chest when he spoke.

“You let me take care of you with other things, let me take care of you now.”

You hesitated.

“I’m carrying a whole ‘nother human being, I’m a bit heavier,” you grimaced, concerned you’d smother him.

“Then I will go out happily,” he grinned salaciously.

“Steve,” you huffed, more amused than annoyed and your body shook as the laughter in his chest answered you.

“I’ll be fine,” he promised, “Now come here, you deserve to be treated.”

He pulled you higher, your pussy now fully hovering over his face. Your hands held you steady as you held on the headboard and you lowered yourself just a bit, enough for him to reach.

A squeal turned into a moan as he pulled you all the way down on his face, tongue licking the length of your lips. He wasted no time, tongue darting into you, licking and exploring.

“Oh, yeah,” you moaned, eyes slipping shut.

His tongue worked wonders, twirling, licking and sucking, never in the same place twice. Your back arched, hips moving in time with his tongue as you ground shamelessly against his face.

It dipped in and out, back and forth driving you wild. You gripped the headboard with one hand, reaching down to tangle into his hair.

“Steve, oh yes baby, like that,” you whimpered, egging him on.

He was more than enjoying this, you could feel the smile against you.

Not that you weren’t enjoying the hell out of it, yourself.

He was so into it, you could feel his nose against your clit, a dangerous combination because every time it brushed against you, you shuddered in pleasure.

Your thighs were tightening around his head as he continued his job until you were coming hard, a cry leaving your mouth as the powerful waves of pleasure engulfed you. Your hand gripped his hair and he moaned into you, prolonging your high just that bit more.

Your chest rising and falling, he lifted you off his face and you were planning to move back to be level with him again when his grip on you tightened.

“I’m not through with you yet,” he smirked, face glistening with your slick and it was such an erotic sight, the arousal started all over again.

“Just wanted to check on how you’re doing,” he said.

“Amazing, great,” you panted with a smile, giving him a weak thumbs up.

With that, he yanked you back down.

“Steve what are you—fuck,” you cursed hotly as he dove back into you and you felt him chuckle against you.

His sole focus was on your clit now and he licked it teasingly, giving it a flick before sucking on it fully.

This son of a bitch was going to completely destroy you, you knew it. You hissed, still sensitive and he gripped you tightly as you tried to flinch away. Once again, you gripped the headboard but with both hands this time, the sensitivity of the first orgasm bleeding into a building second one.

His skilled tongue kept you on your toes—though they were quite literally curling in the moment—speeding up and slowing down so you didn’t reach your peak too quickly.

“Steve, please,” you whimpered, impatient with chasing the high that was just out of reach.

In response, his lips closed around your clit, sucking harder, finally ready to give you what you wanted.

Just like the first one, your second climax hit like a bolt of lightning to your body. He did not let you loose until he was sure he’d milked it for all it was worth.

You let go of the headboard, a bit wobbly, your thighs quaking from two back to back intense orgasms. He chuckled, quite proud of himself, helping you back down where straddled his waist.

“You doing okay up there, babe?”

“Fine,” you said, a bit dazed, “Perfectly fine.”

He sat up on his elbows, kissing you languidly, giving you a moment to recover. You knew he had to be painfully hard by now, being more than patient and treating, so you reached behind him, palming his bulge, rubbing your hand over it gently.

He moaned into your mouth and you grinned, continuing to treat him.

“I love your touch,” he whimpered, “So fucking much.”

He gave you another quick kiss, moving your hand as he refused to cum that fast and in his fucking pants. He had waited too long to enjoy this and enjoy this is what he planned to do.

You helped him shed his pants and boxers and as he kicked them away, he lifted you over him, enough for you to lower yourself slowly down onto his aching cock.

You gave an appreciative hum, both your sounds mixing as you both enjoyed the feeling of the first contact.

You may have had a larger, growing bump, but you weren’t going to let that stop you. You planted your hands on his chest, moving hard and fast now that you were properly seated on him.

Steve’s eyes were practically glazed over, nearly drooling as he watched you, his beautiful baby girl, bouncing on his cock, breasts bouncing along with them. The sight made him twitch within you, which you felt well as you were so tight around him.

God bless pregnancy hormones and all the swelling sensitivity because fuck’s sake the way he rubbed against you was so good it was actually giving you chills, even though your blood was boiling and body was warm.

“So good to me baby girl, you’re so good to me,” he mumbled, reaching up and pulling your face down to his to devour you with his mouth again.

He sat up, still buried in you and the shift created a new angle releasing an X-Rated moan from you.

Steve was very pleased to know that another nice change now was how you’d completely let go, being as loud as possible without even meaning to. Your moans and whines and whimpers of his name were such a turn on.

He knew he didn’t have long before he was done for, but he wanted to enjoy this as long as possible. He thrust up into you, hitting deep and hard. He kissed your chest, kissed your neck and up your throat as your head fell back, completely drunk on him.

He absolutely loved it when you were cock drunk.

His lips reached your chin, then your mouth, hands kneading your chest. It was rough, it was sweaty and it was hot.

You reached behind him, gripping the headboard again for support so you could bounce harder on him.

“Fuck, look at that,” he groaned, looking down at where he disappeared in and out of you, his cock slick with your arousal.

He wasn’t done with you yet. He moved enough to pull out of you and you about cried in desperation. Your third—and most likely last as you would be completely done in after that—orgasm had been building steadily. Even though you would happily have him deep in you, filling you so thoroughly that the ache of it was almost too much, you wanted to cum without abandon.

“Can I try something else, baby?” he asked, voice much softer than the nature of his body’s current activities.

You nodded eagerly, anything to get him to slide back into you quicker.

“On your knees, darling.”

You obeyed him as he moved behind you, wrapping an arm around your torso to support your bump, he slid back into you with one, quick, rough thrust and a garbled moan spilled out of you.

You grabbed the headboard with one hand, holding onto his arm with your other one as you bounced back into him, your bodies meeting with such force it was sending you both spiraling much quicker. You felt the gentle scrape of his chest hair against your back as he moved against you, making your skin prickle. Everything about him seem to be ten times more sexier now.

His deep voice was guttural in your ear as he moaned with each thrust. It was only driving you even more crazy and he knew it. You wanted him to be vocal and he always delivered.

“You’re mine,” he groaned, thrusts wild and becoming sporadic, signaling his impending climax, “Say it.”

“I’m yours,” you whimpered, “Steve, fuck, I’m all fucking yours.”

It was the first time you both came in succession, your moans drowning out his and vice versa. You clenched hard around him and spilled within you, no need to worry about already getting pregnant. Although you were should this moment in time would’ve done it if you hadn’t already conceived.

Your thighs slowly dirtied as his release dripped down out of you, even more so when he pulled his softening cock out of you.

You didn’t think you could physically move for a moment and you stayed frozen in place, trying to even your breathing and calm your pounding heart, exhausted from the exertion.

“Babe? You okay?” Steve asked, worried and you reassured him you were fine.

“I think you just split me in half though,” you groaned, core sensitive and thighs sore as you moved to lay down.

“That was better than I imagined it would be,” you admitted.

“So much fucking better,” he laughed, agreeing, running a hand through his strands, coming to lay next to you.

You spent a moment in silence, tracing a finger over his beauty marks and moles. It was like tracing a maze starting at his neck, heading up his jaw and over his cheeks, even heading out as far as by his ear and onto his temple. He smiled, not letting anyone else do this but you.

“Still doing okay?” he asked, using an abundance of caution after the rough sex they’d just had.

He grabbed your hand and kissed it and you smiled sweetly up at him.

But oh no, this wasn’t one of your normal sweet smiles. This was your devilish, innocent sweet smile and he knew something was coming.

“Oh I’m just resting up for round 2,” you smirked.

There it was. He knew what was going to be coming.

It would be him. Again.

He could live with that.

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