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malucy31 · 3 years

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Even Autumn knows Dawn

Every day Magnus wakes up with Alec in his life, he realizes how differently he deals with his depression and aches. It's a lot better now. This is one of these mornings.

Teen and Up audiences

1922 words

Read on ao3

“I should have let you kidnap me while there was still time,” Alec mumbles, half asleep. “We would still be in Havana, winning all the salsa dancing competitions by now.”

With a light chuckle, Magnus slips under the cover and dives into his embrace. It has been a very long day on top of an excruciating week. Being in the warmth of Alec’s arms is everything he has been looking forward to the entire day. It doesn’t disappoint. The feeling of homeis immediate, making all his sore, tired muscles soften like marshmallows.

“The offer still stands, you know.”

“Mmh… ‘ll ‘member” Alec punctuates his words with a squeeze around his waist and, in a few seconds, Magnus can tell he has fallen back asleep. His heart breaks a little, but it’s 4 a.m. after all.

“Good night, Alexander,” he murmurs with a kiss against his shoulder.

Their schedules haven’t aligned in weeks. Magnus longs for their cozy pillow talks and lazy cuddles, has hoped all day to be home early enough to at least go to bed at the same time as Alec, but it was too good to be true.

Tomorrow won’t be better… Another political meeting to try to prevent a conflict between two warlock communities, a powerful client who keeps asking for impossible things, and the certainty that when he wakes up, Alec will be already getting ready for his own day of misery.

When Magnus opens his eyes, he wishes he had been wrong. His body already feels Alec’s absence and has decided to take over his side of the bed. The Sun is barely rising, but a weight is already settling on his chest. Alec’s scent is faint on the pillow, trapped in the silk fibers like morning dew under clover leaves. It helps soothe the ache a little, the one that has been following him for centuries.

He inhales deeply, letting relief wash over him.

Who knew answers could be so soft, so sweet?

A lifetime ago, he thought the answer was in more.More music, more laughter, more lovers, constant roller coasters of emotions. Whatever it took to quiet the pain.

Always more.

Until numbness.

Until oblivion and nothingness.

Until all that pain inside, that longing, that beasthad no other solution than to lock itself away in a dark, remote corner of his soul.

A never-ending fight against himself.

He remembers going through the last century like the wrinkled last page of a forgotten love letter, blowing in the wind through deserted streets. No will to steer him. Only the certainty that he wouldn’t see the turn of the next century carved deep into his bones.

No one is supposed to live this long.

There’s a reason why warlocks have to eventually find a way to burn their heart to ashes, get rid of their weakness, their humanity. Centuries ago, someone tried to convince Magnus it was the only way.

But his heart has always been his pride, the only good thing about him. He will never feed it to bitterness, this brave, oh so human organ that seeks connection more than air. Despite what people think of him, he never stopped wearing it in the palm of his hand.

Even through his darkest times, he would still take it out of his own chest if someone needed it. He would let it see the beauty of the world, of love, of the comfort and sense of belonging one can only draw from helping others. It made the pain turn wistful instead of nagging.

He thought that was his only answer. Helping others to have reasons to stay.

Forever seeking noise to keep an open heart and take care of his children.

Forever needed.

Forever alone…

Then, he met Alexander. Someone who is the opposite of noise, the opposite of his usual noise anyway.

Magnus will never be able to express precisely what drew him to this quiet shadowhunter. The moment he took Alec’s hand, something in him stirred, sighed like it hadn’t done in forever. Today, he likes to think that his magic recognized him somehow, giving his heart more reasons to keep beating.

If all legends are true, maybe souls wander the world, wander centuries and bodies until they find a home.

Alexander’s love isn’t loud, it’s quiet in all the most perfect ways. Even when he lets it explode, there’s a harmony, a celestial beauty that always leaves Magnus speechless, in complete awe.

Alexander doesn’t bring numbness. He makes Magnus aware of everything, makes him want to be fully alive and not a half version of it.

At first, he thought Alec was the one who needed to let his emotions run free. He forgot that what we see in others is often a reflection of what we know about ourselves.

There was never a beast that needed to be locked away inside of him. Alec shows him that. Every night and every day, his wonderful angel takes that pain in his careful hands and cradles it until it feels loved again, soothed.

It’s barely dawn. The day ahead still looks dull and lonely, but the heaviness is gone.

He pictures Alec in their living room, grimacing as he finishes his coffee because it’s probably too strong, leaning on the back of their couch while reading a few reports that have been sent to him over the night.

Any minute now, he is going to come back to their bedroom. He will take extra precautions to not startle him awake, even though neither stays asleep after the other one gets up. They both know that.

He will whisper, “Magnus, Magnus, I’m leaving,” and Magnus will open one eye, then two, smiling back at him. His grinning nephilim will come closer to kiss him good-bye. His hands, then his forearms will sink into the mattress either side of Magnus’s head. They’ll start laughing because he can rarely stop himself from tickling Alec’s ribs, and he knows there’s no such thing as not hearing that laugh today.

This morning should feel heavy.

And yet, the autumn light filtering through the shutters seems to be a little more golden than usual, the birds nesting on the roof sing something his centuries-old heart has long memorized, and the air he breathes takes up more space in his lungs, making him feel weightless.

When the door opens to Alec’s smiling face, he forgets everything.

It’s a beautiful day.

“Did I wake you?” he asks.

In a few strides, he is kneeling by his side, laying his hands on Magnus’s forearm. They are cold, he must have just washed them. Magnus almost says something about it because isn’t it endearing and miraculous? He isn’t sure he knows why something so simple makes him so happy, so emotional, but it does.

“No, my heart. I was already awake.”

A shudder of pleasure coils up around his spine when their lips wish each other a good morning in a tender kiss, when their breath mingles in laughter that fills Magnus with joy.

“So, I was thinking,” Alec pauses, happiness banishing the constant stress from his features, giving him back the youth the Clave stole from him. “Maybe we could plan a day off soon? Like very soon? I’ve heard of this ephemeral café that opened in Central Park, and I’d like to take you there, pretend to be mundanes… I like it when we do that, it’s fun.”

“An ephemeral café in Central Park, huh? How fancy of you.” Tilting Alec’s chin, Magnus kisses his cheek, feeling a slight tremor in his gesture.

For what must be the thousandth time since this wonderful being entered his life, Magnus marvels at all the ways Alec can affect him. His first reflex is to hide it, maybe tease Alec about how he could have found out about this café. Probably from Simon. It sounds like him and Magnus knows Alec is growing fonder of the vampire. It would be easy to avert Alec’s attention to this, make him roll his eyes in this fake-annoyed way he mastered a long time ago… But he can’t. For some reason, nothing comes out of his mouth. He doesn’t want to take Alec’s attention away from this moment, from him. Magnus wants to be right there with Alec. Genuine and whole, too much to handle, too many emotions, and too much love. Himself.

It doesn’t scare him. The realization brings tears to his eyes, and Alec kisses them away.

“I learned from the best.”

It takes a few seconds for Magnus to realize what Alec is replying to.

“So, what do you say?”

“I’d love to. I like having fun and being fancy with you.”

“Good,” Alec keeps gently cradling his face, wiping more invisible tears.

Magnus can tell he wants to ask about them, wants to ask about all that mess in his head, even though he is sure Alec wouldn’t call it that way. He wants to let him ask those questions, wants to see the day when he will be as open as possible with Alec. So instead of shaking his head, Magnus smiles.

“I can’t wait.”

“Me neither… We’ll talk more about it tonight, okay? I should go.”

“I might be home late.”

“I’ll wait.”

Alec kisses him and Magnus knows he shouldn’t grip his shirt this tight, but he does because it makes Alec giggle against his mouth. There’s no better feeling than that.

A little while later, when Magnus is getting ready, he catches sight of a note on their kitchen counter next to a cup of coffee.

I think I got it right this time… Let me know tonight. Have a good day, I love you.

He doesn’t know what is faster, his large grin or the tranquil waves of endearment and love surging inside of him. With a snap of his fingers, he warms up the cup and takes a sip. It’s perfect.

Closing his eyes, he savors the last minutes of quiet of his day before too much noise, too many problems to solve, too many people to talk to, before the sweet relief of Alec’s arms later tonight. Before what makes every day worth living through.

Magnus wishes he could talk to all the former versions of himself.

The ones desperate for a human connection that would last more than a night, more than a month, more than a few years. More than a lifetime. The ones that didn’t see any light at the end of the tunnel, the ones craving a quick and painless demise, the ones wondering where this would all lead him. The ones who only saw darkness ahead.

He wants to tell them that it gets better, that it’s all worth it, that today, all he sees is the love of his life, his answer to everything.

Even when he looks back, all he sees in his story are all the plot twists and unbearable cliffhangers that will lead him to his Alexander. All the reasons why their stories fit so well together. Every question finding an answer.

Maybe he had to go through all those centuries to get to this life, maybe he had to pay for his ancestors’ sins first. Maybe he didn’t. Maybe everything could have been different, and they would have still ended up here.

It doesn’t matter.

It used to matter, but it doesn’t anymore.

Because a new story started being written when their paths crossed. Their story.

It’s all that matters now.

#malec #magnus bane #alec lightwood #shadowhunters #malec fanfiction #my writing #magnus pov #happy malec :)

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mrsgreenworld · 4 years

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So, my one-shot has turned into a monster 🙈 Might become a multi-chapter fic. But for now, here's the first part.

It's a pure speculation as well as canon divergence because the grandma doesn't show up just yet.

I don't own any of the characters, all of them and the show belong to the writers, production company and FOX channel.

____________________________________________

A Technicality

Serkan was sitting at his desk in Art Life office, deep in thought, contemplating all the mess he had managed to create for and around himself as well as his already very fragile relationship with Eda.

It wasn't how he had imagined everything going when he had asked Eda for those three wishes. The first one was her unconditional trust, which Eda, sadly, couldn't give him. And Serkan started suspecting that it wasn't really about Eda not being ready to trust him again. Serkan had a feeling that Eda's pride and stubbornness were to blame as well as lingering hurt. She hadn't completely forgiven him. Her denying him what he so desperately craved - herself - was her form of punishment. But in her desire to punish and teach him a lesson, Eda was only causing both of them more distress. And that's what Serkan found so frustrating. That is what actually pushed him to these extreme measures.

"Oh god, what am I doing? Unbelievable. Look, Eda Yıldız, at what you're making me do" Serkan thought for the upteenth time in the last couple of days.

It started the night Eda fulfilled his second wish and came to him. Although it wasn't much of a surprise for him because he just knew it in his bones, felt it in every cell of his body - that she would come. Balca's visit, however, was unexpected. And the moment Serkan saw the woman at his doorstep, a crazy idea sprung up in his mind - to invite her in just to push Eda's buttons. He cringed internally at his own suggestion they had dinner but desperate time called for desperate measures. And Serkan really was desperate. Call it a manipulation, and maybe it was, maybe that's what Eda would claim to be yet another attempt at controlling her, but Serkan was literally starting to go out of his mind. He could no longer stand being so close to her, with no more secrets between them, yet sometimes it seemed they were oceans apart. Eda was slipping away, she had erected a wall around herself, not allowing Serkan to get too close. Every time he thought they had made a step forward, Eda threw them three steps back by bringing up the contract.

Oh, how he hated the damn thing! He wanted to burn it, scatter the ashes in the wind and then proceed with wiping out every electronic copy out of existence.

So, he was basically grasping at straws, when he decided that Balca's presence could help him finally make Eda crack. He wasn't going to act interested because, for one, it would never work, he wouldn't be able to pull it off while Eda even as much as breathed in his general direction. He had, however, noticed Balca's interest, and decided to play along with that, pretending to be clueless about her advances. So he acted polite whenever Balca found an excuse and came to him. He ignored her sitting too close to him, supported her with his arm when she lost her balanced, fought the urge to pull away when she leaned over him or brushed his arm. He turned a blind eye on supposedly accidental touches. And all of that seemed to have been paying off because Eda looked more and more like a ticking bomb ready to explode.

But then their non-date on the skating rink happened and everything was so perfect that Serkan, unable to contain his happiness and feeling light-headed, confessed to Eda in a rush his grand plan to stir jealousy and force her to claim him as her man. Everything Serkan earned after this confession was yet another slap across his face and a "You're unbelievable, Serkan Bolat!".

Today, in the office, Eda had been sulking and demonstratively ignoring him. Add Balca and her unwanted attention, which was getting too bold to remain comfortable, into the mix and what you got would be a very annoyed and exhausted Serkan Bolat.

A knock pulled Serkan from his thoughts. He looked up to see Melek. She smiled blindingly at him and gave him a small wave:

"You busy, Enişte?"

Serkan felt a smile forming on his face upon hearing the word "Enişte", which now between himself and Melek had turned into a form of endearment.

"No, I am free for you. Come in" Serkan said with fondness.

Melek came up to his work desk and pulled a chair to sit down.

"So, what is it? Is it Eda? Is something wrong with Eda?" Serkan felt panic spreading in his chest and looked past Melek, at the open office space, frantically searching for Eda.

He relaxed a little when he saw her sitting at her regular place, studying something closely on her computer.

"Calm down, Enişte. Everything is fine. Dada is fine. Well, apart from being an idiot, she's fine"

"Hm, what? An idiot?" Serkan asked, confused.

"Yes, you are both idiots. Sitting here, brooding, instead of just talking. Look, Dada trusts you. And she wanted to tell you this that night on the skating rink but then you told her that you had been making her jealous on purpose. You know our girl, of course she got pissed off. To her it just looked like another one of your attempts to control her"

"I know that, Melek! I know it was dumb and manipulative. I just... I just wanted her to finally stop hiding behind the contract and do something"

"I understand that. And, I think, Eda does too now. She sees how much you've been trying to change. But you don't have to or need to change change, you know. She's not expecting you to become a different person"

"I am trying to be a better person, for her"

"And I am happy to hear you say that. But... just make sure you're doing it for yourself too, ok? Because you know what Dada said to me yesterday?"

Melek looked at Serkan with a small secretive smile.

"She said:

"Yes, he is a robot and he drives me crazy half of the time with his robotic tendencies. But he's my robot, Melo, you know? And what if he suddenly stops being my robot? What if I come to the office one day and there's a... vanilla prince charming instead of my robot? Looking like him but not actually him".

And then she turned into a crying mess. But my point is - she loves you for who you are. Faults and all. She just has trouble telling you that. I guess a communication problem is something you two have in common"

Serkan just full-on belly-laughed at Melek's comment. He suddenly felt so much lighter. All the worry, doubt, fear and insecurities of the recent days just... vanished. A sense of calm certainty settled inside of him instead. He believed now that him and Eda were gonna be okay. No matter what. No matter who.

Serkan was just about to open his mouth and thank Melek for having put his mind and heart at ease, when another knock echoed in his office and he saw Balca.

"I am sorry for interrupting but I need to discuss something with you, Serkan" said Balca and waved a yellow folder in her hands at him.

"Well, I was actually leaving. You two do your work thing and I will also go, do some... work. See ya around, Enişte!" Melek rambled and jumped to her feet.

"Melek! Thank you! We will talk a bit more later, ok?" Serkan said when Melek was about to exit his office.

"Yeah, sure thing, Enişte!"

Serkan switched his attention to Balca.

"I am listening, Balca, what is it?"

The young woman came to Serkan's desk and pulled out the chair, previously occupied by Melek. Balca took a seat and rolled closer to Serkan, which made her elbow bump into Serkan's forearm. Serkan shifted uncomfortably and tried to focus on the documents Balca had put before him. Balca started explaining that several business magazines wanted to publish interviews with him. She also showed a couple of press releases for him to approve. All in all, she remained professional and the next ten minutes or so passed relatively quickly.

"Ok, you can get in touch with the magazine, tell them I am ready to give an interview. But only on the dates I have mentioned"

"Got it. I will let you know once I hear from them"

Balca started collecting the documents and Serkan looked past her, his eyes searching for Eda. She wasn't, however, at her computer. Serkan scanned the open office space but there was no sign of Eda. So, when Balca rolled back in her chair and stood up, Serkan also got to his feet.

"Are you leaving?" Balca asked.

"No, just want to stretch my legs a bit. Shall we?" Serkan answered and motioned to the doors.

They exited Serkan's office together, with Balca walking closely. Serkan felt Balca's eyes on the side of his face but ignored the weight of her gaze. He noticed Melek sitting at one of the desks and approached her quickly.

"Melek!"

"Enişte?"

"Where is Eda?"

"Oh, I think she went to get a coffee"

"Ok, thank you"

Serkan moved in the direction of their office cafeteria when he noticed Balca following him. He stopped abruptly and Balca almost collided with his back. Serkan turned to face the woman and asked:

"Is there something else you want, Balca?"

"No, I think we've discussed everything" she answered with a smile.

"Then where are you going? I think you wanted to call the magazine and arrange that interview"

"Yes, of course, I will do just that. But I wanted to get some coffee first"

Serkan nodded and motioned for Balca to go forward. They entered the cafeteria together and Serkan immediately noticed Eda at the coffee machine. Eda heard approaching steps and turned her head in the direction of the sound. She visibly tensed upon seeing Balca and Serkan together.

"Eda, can I also get a cup of coffee?" asked Balca, coming to stand beside Eda at the coffee machine.

Even Serkan raised his eyebrows at that.

"By all means, be my guest" Eda motioned to the coffee maker with one of her hands.

She took a half-filled cup in her other hand and brushed past Balca. Eda moved to leave the cafeteria but Serkan quickly followed behind and caught her by the arm.

"Can we talk for a moment, please?" he said in a hushed whisper.

"There's nothing to talk about" Eda responded stubbornly.

"I think there is"

Serkan took Eda's hand and, threading their fingers together, pulled her in the direction of the stairs.

"What are you doing? Let go of my hand! Where are you taking me?" Eda protested.

"I am taking you to my other office on the second floor so that we could talk in private"

"Talk in private? I don't want to talk in private!"

Serkan stopped and turned to Eda with an exasperated sigh.

"You will talk to me"

Serkan pulled on Eda's hand but she refused to move.

"Eda, stop being a child. Let's go"

"I don't want to go. What are you gonna do? Throw me over your shoulder and carry me there?"

"You know, it's a great idea actually" he said dead serious.

Eda's eyes widened comically.

"Don't be ridiculous. Are you crazy? You cannot do such a thing"

"Oh, I can, Eda Yıldız. Because my patience is wearing thin"

"You won't do this"

"Try me"

Eda lifted her hand, still holding a coffee cup, higher.

"You wouldn't dare! I have hot coffee in my hand!"

"So what? You can splash it in my face all you want but then I will definitely throw you over my shoulder"

For the first time since Serkan got to know Eda Yıldız, she seemed lost for words. Serkan stepped closer to her, looked into her big eyes and said, softening his voice:

"Please, let's go and talk"

He tried to pour all his love, all his longing for her into his gaze. He mouthed a "Please" again. Eda's defences crumbled and she nodded quietly.

Never letting go of Eda's hand, Serkan led her upstairs to his office. Once they were inside, Serkan locked the door to prevent anyone from barging in. He moved to the couch and Eda followed, taking a seat beside him. Serkan shifted so that he was facing Eda who was now awkwardly nursing a cup of coffee between her hands. She brought it to her lips the same moment Serkan said:

"So, I am your robot"

Eda choked on her lukewarm coffee and started coughing violently. Serkan cursed at himself and took Eda's cup from her hands.

"Sorry" he mumbled.

He put her cup on the coffee table and handed her a tissue. Eda wiped at her hands and face, still coughing.

"Let me get you some water"

Serkan grabbed a water bottle from the coffee table and uncapped it for her.

"Here, drink this" he said, offering her the bottle.

Eda took it and made a couple of long gulps.

"Thank you" she finally managed to say.

"You okay?"

"Yes, I am, I'm fine" Eda nodded.

"So..."

Serkan rubbed his hands together and looked at Eda pointedly.

"Oh, shut up!" Eda exclaimed in embarrassment.

"I didn't say anything!"

"Your smug face is saying plenty"

"Well, I cannot help myself" Serkan said with a wide smile, his dimples showing.

"Melo told you, didn't she? Of course she told you! Offf...ya!"

Eda covered her face with both of her hands. Serkan moved from the couch and onto his knees, directly in front of Eda. He took her hands in his and pulled them from her face.

"Hey, look at me" he said softly.

Eda lifted her face, her cheeks tinged pink with embarrassment, and looked into Serkan's eyes.

"There's nothing to feel embarrassed about because nothing about what you said is silly or untrue. I am your robot. Yours only" Serkan told her with conviction.

Eda's face lit up with happiness, adoration and so much love. She cupped both of his cheeks with her hands, her eyes finding his.

"I love you, you know that? For who you are. Just the way you are. You don't need to change for me to love you" she told him.

"But I want to change. I want to be better for you" Serkan said.

"Well, if you want to... Just don't do this because you think it's something I want from you. All I need is you. Your love, your trust, your respect. Let's give each other all of that, ok? If we trust and support each other and talk to each other, we will be okay"

"We will, right?"

"Yes" Eda nodded with a smile and pressed her forehead to his.

Serkan closed his eyes, just living and breathing in the moment. They were sitting like this, in comfortable silence, for several minutes when Serkan finally whispered:

"You want to know my third wish?"

Eda chuckled and pulled away slightly.

"You know I do, I am curious like that" she said with a smile.

Serkan reached into his pants pocket and pulled out Eda's flower ring. He heard Eda gasp: "Serkan!"

"I know now is not the right time. But very soon, when you're ready, I want you to put this ring back on and never take it off again. And once it's back on your finger, I want to put another one here" he pulled her left hand from his face and ran his thumb over her ring finger.

Serkan watched Eda's eyes fill with tears when he asked in a whisper: "Okay?"

Eda nodded and whispered back: "Okay".

___________________________________________

The rest of the day went in a blur. Serkan felt like a teenager. Only he never felt this light, happy and carefree when he actually was a teen.

He was basically useless at work, unable to concentrate, so he just stopped trying and was watching Eda instead. From time to time he would ask her to come into his office. She pretended to be exasperated but the smiles she couldn't contain betrayed her.

Balca came by several times. She caught on his mood change immediately:

"You seem different. Happier. You weren't like that in the morning"

"Well, I received some good news"

"That's wonderful! Care to share?"

"It's personal"

The second Balca left his office with a tight smile and a dry nod, Serkan's eyes drifted to Eda but she wasn't at her desk. Serkan got to his feet and went out of his office, in search for Eda. He peaked into the conference room but found it empty and went to check the cafeteria. The only person there was Melek.

"Melek!"

"Enişte!"

"Have you seen Eda?"

"Hm... no. The last time I saw her she was working at her computer"

"Well, she isn't there now"

"She was going to leave earlier because she's got classes at the university but it's not the time yet"

There was clicking of heels and both Serkan and Melek turned to the source of the sound only to see Balca.

Serkan brought his attention back to Melo:

"Well, if you see her, please, tell her that I am looking for her"

"Will do, Enişte!" Melek responded enthusiastically and retreated, without even acknowledging Balca's presence.

Serkan moved to the coffee maker. Taking a cup for himself, he turned to Balca, who had taken a seat at the counter, and asked:

"Coffee?"

"Yes, thank you"

Serkan took another cup, placed it next to his own and switched on the coffee maker which started gurgling.

"Can I ask you something?" he heard Balca say.

Serkan looked at her and nodded silently.

"Why does Melek keep calling you her Enişte?" Balca asked, confused.

Serkan furrowed his brows, puzzled by the audacity of the question.

"Because I am her Enişte"

"But you and Eda are not married"

"Not on paper, not yet"

Serkan heard a telling click of the coffee machine and turned to fill the cups with hot liquid. He faced Balca again, who was watching him with an unreadable expression, and placed one of the coffees in front of her.

"Anyway, it's just a technicality. Because it feels like we are. Married, I mean" Serkan said and took his cup.

He held it up in a "Cheers!" move and dropped a "Enjoy your coffee" before exiting the cafeteria.

Once Serkan entered the open work space, he noticed Eda immediately. He approached her desk with: "Eda? Can you come into my office for a minute?"

Eda nodded silently and stood from her seat, following him. Once they were in his office, Serkan placed his coffee on the desk and turned to face Eda. She came to stand before him, but there was too much space between them, so Serkan took her hand and pulled Eda to him. She stumbled forward and basically fell on his chest with a chuckle.

"What are you doing? We're at work, remember?"

"Oh, I do. Otherwise I would be kissing you right now"

Eda's cheeks turned red.

"Stop it" she whisper-yelled at him.

"Why? That's true"

"You're such a dork"

"And you're perfect" Serkan said, meaning it with every cell in his body, every drop of his blood.

Eda shook her head with a smile:

"Romantic robot"

"Your romantic robot"

"Yes, my romantic robot" she agreed and added in a whisper: "I love you, Serkan Bolat"

"Our feelings are mutual, Eda Yıldız" he whispered back.

They kept staring at each other with dopey smiles on their faces for several more minutes before Serkan asked:

"Where have you been? I missed you"

"Don't be ridiculous, I just went to the ladies' room. I was away for like five minutes"

"Well, felt like an hour to me"

"You're hopeless. What are you gonna do when I leave in an hour and you don't see me until tomorrow morning?"

Serkan looked at her confused:

"What do you mean I won't see you until tomorrow morning? I thought we would meet after you finish your classes"

"Well, I finish quite late and then I have to go home because I promised Hala to help her with something"

"Well, I could pick you up after you help your aunt"

"I think it will be too late for us to go anywhere"

"Then we will just spend time at my place. You could stay the night" Serkan suggested, licking at his lips nervously.

Eda bit on her bottom lip and Serkan's eyes zeroed in on it, as if he was being hypnotized.

"Hey!" Eda's fingers snapped right in front of his face.

"Hm? Yes?"

"I am saying: we will spend the whole day together tomorrow. And I promise that we will leave work together and then do whatever you want or go wherever you want. And..." Eda moved closer to Serkan to whisper into his ear: "I might stay the night".

Serkan choked on air as well as his own saliva. Eda moved away from him with a suggestive smile.

The next hour was spent daydreaming and sneaking glances at Eda. Then Pırıl came with yet another crisis and Serkan got a bit distracted, managing to finally focus on something for the first time during the day. When at some point Serkan had a chance to lift his head from the papers, scattered before him, he noticed that Eda was gathering her things, getting ready to leave. He was about to stand and go to her, but Eda shook her head "No" with a smile and motioned for him to continue with what he was doing. She just looked at him for a moment and then mouthed: "I love you" - add blew him a tiny kiss.

Serkan grinned at her and mouthed back his own "I love you".

The rest of the day was surprisingly busy. By the time Serkan had dealt with all problems at the office, it was rather late. He texted Eda to call him once she was free. Then he drove home, went about his evening routine, checking his phone every now and then. No messages or missed calls from Eda. Serkan was getting anxious, when he finally heard a tell-tale sound of an incoming video call. Blowing out a breath he didn't realise he had been holding, Serkan answered his phone and finally felt himself relax, when he saw Eda's face, with her blinding smile and eyes that were dancing with mischief. They talked until Eda literally fell asleep holding a phone in her hand. Serkan looked at her peaceful sleeping face for several minutes before he finally disconnected the call. He felt uneasy, however. The moment he could no longer see her face, a strange nagging feeling settled somewhere in his stomach. He did his best to ignore it and tried to sleep.

____________________________________________

The morning found Serkan Bolat completely beaten. He practically hadn't slept all night. When he did manage to doze off, he was pulled from sleep by a strange feeling. It was a physical discomfort, reaction akin to anaphylactic shock that he had experienced only once in his life. Going into full-on panic mode, a hypochondriac that he was, Serkan called his family doctor. Once Delek Hanım came and examined him, she told him that he was completely fine physically and his condition was purely psychological. Serkan argued that there was nothing that could have triggered basically a panic attack. Quite the opposite - things were finally looking up for him and Eda. He had her back.

"Well, this can be the reaction to some impending stress. Maybe there's something important, some event coming that you might be worried about?" Delek Hanım asked.

Serkan just shook his head. He then thanked the doctor and after she left, immediately dialed Eda's number. She didn't pick up.

"It's fine, everything is fine" Serkan mumbled to himself while looking through his call log.

Once he found Melek's name, he started a call. Melo picked up on the third ring:

"Good morning, Enişte!"

"Good morning, Melek. I called Eda but she didn't answer. Is everything ok?"

"She's probably driving, that's why she didn't pick up. She left early today. Ayfer Abla had some special orders at the flower shop so Dada volunteered to help. She will go straight to the office once she deals with the flowers"

Serkan calmed down a bit after having heard that but there still was uncomfortable tightness in his chest. He was rubbing at the spot while he was driving to work, but it only got worse once Serkan arrived at the office. A tie around his neck started choking him so he had to get rid of the damn thing.

Melek came but there was still no sign of Eda.

Alarms started going off in Serkan's head when a concerned-looking Ceren showed up. Serkan came up to her while she was talking to Melo.

"What's going on? Where is Eda?"

The girls looked at each other, then at Serkan, and Ceren said:

"We don't know. None of us can reach her. She's not answering any of the calls or messages"

Serkan almost growled in frustration when his phone started ringing. He pulled it from his pocket hustily, only to see that it was his mother calling. He picked up with: "Mom, it's not the right time, I will call..." but stopped dead when he heard a sob and his mother's weak "Serkan, dear...".

"Mom?..." he asked timidly and didn't recognize his own voice.

Because it wasn't his voice, it wasn't the voice of a grown-up man, it was a boy's voice, the one a scared child would have.

"Mom, please, tell me she is okay"

"I am so sorry, dear..."

His phone slipped from his fingers and cluttered to the floor.

(to be continued... maybe 👀)

#sen çal kapımı #sen cal kapimi #sck #edser #sen çal kapımı fic #sen çal kapımı fanfiction #sck fanfiction #sck fic #edser fanfiction #edser fanfic #eda yıldız #eda yildiz #serkan bolat

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softxhariana · 3 years

Text

34+35 live stream

description: ariana’s live stream before debut of 34+35 remix music video.

word count: 2.22k

A/N: little piece based off this live stream that ariana did in the countdown to her releasing the 34+35 remix music video with doja and megan. obvs not included every question but just a few fun bits and harry mentions for you x

also disclaimer, this is NOT real, if u don't wanna read about these two then don't, i’m not tryna act like they’re together it is fiction.

❤ anywayz hope u enjoy luvs xox

❖ "HELLO EVERYONE! thank u for coming to this premier,” ariana smiled sweetly at the camera, as the video cut to a shot of her for the beginning of the countdown.

“we had so much fun making this 34+35 remix video for you, and uhh, we hope you love it.” she continued, playing with her hair. no matter how long she did this for she swore she would never cease to get slightly nervous in these situations. where it was her alone, in front of a camera. but her fans made her feel at ease, and she felt she owed them something, as she hadn’t done many quarantine interviews like other celebs have.

“i thought i would come celebrate and join the countdown with you guys. which is something that I've never done before, but i’m very happy to be here and i was very excited to get some questions from you all...” she held up the sheets of twitter questions she had received, “um that i’m gonna be answering while i’m here so, i cant wait to celebrate this together and countdown and answer some of your questions!” she finished with a smile.

and it was genuine. a real smile that her fans were thrilled to see.

ariana was genuinely so happy and content with her life right now. with her family, her music, her friends, harry. harry her FIANCE!! might she add.

everything just felt perfect, and after all the shit the last couple years had thrown her way, she appreciated the break.

she got her love back, she was making music that she fully loved, and put her whole soul into, and she had fans who had stuck with her and supported her through some of the darkest times in her life, that were now able to experience her happiness and personal growth with her. so truly, little things like this, felt like the least she could do for them.

“ohh this is a good one because its 34 35 related” she tucked her hair behind her ears, “@noirgrande said ‘ummm its just i wanna the end of 34+35 is it awww shit or nooo shit, i just wanna sing the song right”

“umm it is indeed no shit” she confirmed, smiling matter of factly at the camera before reciting the closing line of the song.

~~~~~~~~~~~

“@arianalocks1223 said ‘will we get to see the track list before the songs release?’” she paused for a second to process - which turned into a few more seconds, she was a bit slow today. she had told harry with full sincerity that she thought it was because she was getting old but he had just cracked up at her absurd statement, and told her that if that was the case he’d still think she was a milf

“you will!” she nodded with certainty, “indeed. ummm... i can tell you them now” she blurted, oops.

“i suppose thats not like... is that against the rules? can i do that?” she turned, to question scooter who was supervising off camera, not wanting to get her label mad at her for releasing too much information, something she has a tendency to do.

after getting the nod of reassurance from him she turned back to the camera, “so out of ‘POV’, you go into, um, an interlude called ‘someone like u’. after that is a song called ‘test drive’, after that is the 34/35 remix with doja and meg” she smiles lightly, “and after that is a song called ‘worst behaviour’, and after worst behaviour is... a song called ‘main thing’...” she finishes, a shy smirk forming on her face, dimples appearing, “so that’s the tracks.”

continuing with the countdown, ariana felt her heart warm at the love her fans were giving her and this album. she loved interacting with them and making them happy and proud of her so knowing she had done just that, was an amazing feeling.

“umm hesbloodsline... @hesbloodsline ... i’m really fond of this question because its really to the point, ‘where's the pig and where the fuck is harry?’” she smiled, holding in a laugh.

“piggy’s here, she's great, she's really doing so well and life is really good for her right now, she's really thriving and doing her thing” she ranted, a hint of sarcasm in her voice, “um, i make her big salads everyday that she likes, she's doing really great. she asked me to stop posting her as much because she's actually really offended by a lot of your jokes that you make on twitter, she asked me to have a word with you guys” she continued to joke, well aware that she probably found herself more funny than anyone else did right now.

“she doesn't like the jokes about being eaten, they really hurt her, umm yeh, and she asked me to convey that... no she’s great...” she finally decided to answer, “and harry, is on set today, so um, yeh thats where he is... but don't worry i will tell him to keep you in the loop, i’ve got you”

ariana unconsciously let a small smile take over her glossed lips when talking about harry. he had been so excited about this new project and seeing him passionate and happy about anything he’s doing, always made her happiest.

~~~~~~~~~~~

“nicole! @nastyctrl. nicole said ‘who helped come up with the concept for the positions music video, love u sm ari’ love you so much to, i love you so much more” she paused, she loved this story,

“um this is actually a really funny story, dave and i had been going back and forth on several different concepts, and i couldn't, like... marry one... i couldn't really, like, really commit to one, i wasn't 100% sold. and it was missing a certain element of empowerment. and i kept, you know, trying to think of things that would make it more impactful cause i wasn't loving what we had...”

“anddd then me and harry were on this huge hike, and he just turned to me and was like, ‘what if you were the president?’ which was like, not at all fitting cause i was dying and complaining the whole time. but i was like,” she tried to imitate a shocked face through her smile and laughed

“and when i called dave he was like ‘oh... kay, ill call you guys back’ and had the whole production team redo everything, and i had mimi pull completely different outfits and we completely started over cause that idea was what i was, craving and missing. and i was like, wow, thats so perfect” she smiled, shrugging her shoulders, “so yeh, honorary directing credit to harry styles, if you liked that”

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

“this is from @borderlinevinyl, who said ‘how much of the album was recorded at your little home studio?’ ummm..” she sang, looking off camera in thought, everything in quarantine had honestly just blurred into one so she was struggling to remember what exactly she recorded where,

“um... a lot of it was... i think i did parts of everything here and parts of things at tommy's i know i did, um, the final chorus ad-libs for positions at home” she began listing in her head, “i know i did all of off the table at home... i know i did the final chorus of my hair at home because we- i-” oops. she had to control the laugh threatening to leave her lips at the lack of subtlety in her correction

“-i got out of the shower and he was like ‘oh your whistles are really here right now’, and i was like y’know what... yeahh they are aren’t they” she laughed as she squinted her eyes and recited that part of the conversation, even trying to imitate his deeper accent.

she had been singing in the shower - as she always did - and harry joining her never seemed to stop her from belting out any whitney or old one direction classic she wanted to. he would even join in sometimes and they'd end up with their own mini concert, dancing around naked, shampoo and conditioner bottles in hand singing their hearts out to everything from high school musical to nicki minaj to fleetwood mac.

while it felt like too bold of statement to make as she truly revelled in and enjoyed everything they did together, showering with him was truly one of her favourite’s. whether it was steamy shower sex that had all glass surfaces in the room fogging up or letting loose and dancing and singing under the pouring water, every moment felt so intimate and sacred. it truly made her feel like they were they only people in the world.

of course he would claim she was out singing him every time she whistled and would jokingly try to replicate the note but he was truly just in awe off the sounds that came from her mouth (in all senses of the word;)

"-and so i opened ‘my hair’ and just randomly did that” she continued, “um what else did i do here, i did the a lot of the backgrounds and ad-libs for 34+35 here, um, obvious was done at home, a lot of six-thirty was done at home”

caught in her own thoughts she only realised she had probably been droning on for too long when she caught scooters eye across the room and with a blush she shook her head as if to clear it, “this is an annoying answer, everything was kind of all over the place but i did a lot, a lot, a lot of the vocals for the album at the house" she finally finished the long answer, moving on quickly as she realised she didn't have long until the premiere and she wanted to answer as many of the questions as possible.

“ok, second last question from hannah, ever- @everdxystxless, im sorry i don't know how to pronounce that” she laughs looking up at the camera with wide eyes, not sure how exactly how she was supposed to go about pronouncing the username,

“im sorry, um, but anyway she say’s ‘ari baby, how do you feel about harry getting to do a movie with florence pugh, we know your a big fan of hers, ps. i love you so much!’ well hannah, i love you too” she replies, as she thinks back to when harry first introduced the two, after she had gotten over the initial fangirling, the pair became amazing friends. florence struck ariana as such a genuine, loving person and they shared the same dry sense of humour. plus ariana might of been just a little obsessed with her accent - not that she would ever admit that and scare the girl off.

“and... um, yeah, it literally, made me beyond happy, i was fully like, fangirling when i met her the first time” she laughs as she plays with her hair, “she honestly, probably was like, ‘who the fuck is this girl? what is she doing?’”ariana imitated, a faux scared/weirded out look on her face, playing the part of a mildly pissed off florence - which she luckily had never been on the receiving end of, “im sure i was being the opposite of subtle about it but, no, she really truly is the sweetest, kindest, most beautiful, talented human being” she emphasises, the thought of any news outlets of fan’s trying to spin a ‘jealousy’ story about this making her internally role her eyes,

“midsommar is, like, one of my all time favourite movies, and she's amazing in it, and harry’s like so fucking lucky its crazy. so yeah, thats insane”

~~~~~~~~~

"...so yeah... thank you so much! this was so much fun!” ariana exclaimed as she wrapped up the Q&A, smiling wide at the camera, she knew her fans were going to love the music video and she couldn't wait for them to watch it, plus interacting with them in this way always made her happy.

“i love you guys, i miss you” she reminded, “i am so appreciative of everything you've done for this album, for these singles, for this music. i hope that, um, that this makes you super happy, i hope it makes you smile...we had so much fun shooting it and um, the girls are so fantastic, so i hope you love this and i hope you love the deluxe!”

ariana didn't know how many more ways she could say thank you and express her gratitude but she still had over a minute and a half so she’d have to come up with something, even if it meant she’d sound like a broken record

“i am so thankful for everything and for the love that you've shown this music i cant even begin to articulate it properly so, thank you! i appreciate it so much” she breathed out all in one, “but anyway, the video should be starting soon, so... i hope you like it, don't refresh! it’ll be here soon... i promise... just don't refresh” she urged dramatically, she was really dragging this out, “but yeh” she got out through laughs “the video should be starting anytime now, i love you guys” she blew a kiss to the camera before moving as close to the lens as possible “byee”.

🖤 there u go!! i hope you liked it, and any feedback would always always be welcomed and so so appreciated pls and thanku x

#3435remix #35+35 #ariana #grande #butera #ag #agb #viral no1 #hiphop #rap #RnB #music #female #woman #trio #livestream #countdown #harrystyles #hs #hariana #dojacat #megan thee stallion

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sweetestlamb · 4 years

Text

Sharp Dressed Man

Summary: Mun-Yeong hadn’t expected him to show up, especially not looking like that. Gang-tae learns about the power of a man in a suit.

Note: Back again with more smut to soothe our souls, this weekend has been an emotional roller coaster. I bring to you SUITSMUT! I intended for this to be naughty, light and cute but after this weekend I need...more. I need lovemaking and devotion and declarations, balm for my heart. I tried to add some of the things you asked for, but I really just followed my heart with this one. Writing is therapy for me, and this show has made me need therapy more than ever. Anyway onto the smut, and yes I will continue to name these fics after songs. This one really fits perfectly, if you don’t know it look up ZZ Top “Sharp Dressed Man”.

Not kissing him was not an option, not with the way he was looking right now; when she’d been picking out his outfit for the portrait she couldn’t help but imagine him in this suit, dapper and gorgeous. He even made his dull thoroughly washed t-shirts and jeans look fashionable, the clothes doing nothing to negate the beautiful man inside them. Therefore, she knew the power he would wield in a suit. It was comparable to handing Excalibur to King Arthur, too much strength for one man to possess.

Her assumptions had been sound, just like ants were drawn to sweets women were drawn to her Gang-Tae. He had walked around the library, completely unaware of the attention he was garnering. Coquettish giggles falling from hungry lips whenever he strolled by, girls congregating in circles to steal him away from her, her blood boiled from the thought, but then he looked over those broad strapping shoulders with a smile just for her. His entire face gleaming like a land-bound sun. Her jealousy simmered down,minutely, scratching under her skin with the need to announce that he was hers, she had fought long and hard for him.

So the kiss was inevitable. When the clouds were grey, it would rain and when you watered plants they would grow, when he was looking that delectable she had to put a small claim on him, taste those lips and feel his skin underneath her own, appease her insatiable craving for him.

With a firm tug she pulls him in seductively, his tie woven tightly around her fingers, silken under her touch, as she maneuvers it to bring their lips together. His breath hitches as the tie minutely tightens around his neck, forcing him into a soft flush of lips. The kiss is just a quick peck, as innocent as their first, lacking the hunger and desperation of their second, but the love they all hold remains constant. She knows now that, that is what this is.

Love.

Has never experienced it before, has scoffed at it her whole life, knowing that someone like her simply wasn’t worthy of such an emotion, life had handed her the shorter stick a long ago and as the years went by it dwindled away further.

Until he came and breathed it back into her bones, him, Sang-Tae and Mang-Tae, they were a family now, he had confirmed that while holding her hand, unaware that with it he was also holding her heart. That too, was inevitable. Her loving him.

“What was that for?” He draws back from the unexpected kiss with a vivid splash of red across his cheeks.

“I was sealing our promise, everyone knows you seal a promise with a kiss.” She replies, nonchalantly, pointedly not releasing his tie, savoring the closeness between their bodies.

He raises a thick eyebrow before replying with a possessive gleam in his eye, “Really? I’ve never sealed a promise like that, how many people have you sealed promises with like that?”

His smile is tight, as he awaits her reply, she laughs at his small show of jealousy, he is much better at hiding his own but like her it always simmer right below the surface of his skin.

“I don’t make promises with anyone else.” She answers honestly, watching his eyes soften at her reply, the memory fresh in their mind, I’ll keep it because it’s a promise I made with you. Promises are worthless because people always break them but with him it’s different, he is always the outlier in every equation.

Switching the topic, her eyes harden as she peers into his soul, “I meant what I said, don’t wear this outside anymore. I decided to compromise, you can wear it around the house.” She levels with a gracious smile.

“Oh? You compromised? I thought you said it didn’t look good. Do you like how it looks now?”

The smirk on his full pink lips-made pinker by her own lipstick- is irritatingly handsome on his face.

With a roll of her eyes she retorts, “You don’t look...terrible. But it’s only acceptable to wear it in the house. I told you the caregiver uniform is more your style. Leave the fashion to me.” Her voice is clipped and matter-of-fact, reigning in her jealousy at the memory of all the eyes that had followed him today, she should have gotten a bag to cover his face too. That suit enhanced every inch of his body, and annoyingly she wasn’t the only one who noticed.

His eyes track her face, searching with a knowing look, damn him. “I can never wear a suit again? What about our wedding? Will I not wear a suit there either?”

Her heartbeat jolts like she’s been struck my lighting, he continues on as if he has thrown her thoughts asunder, “What will I wear to that? My caregiver uniform?” His voice is teasing, as he pulls his tie from her limp hand, with capable hands he secures it around his neck once more before sauntering to the couch.

Her voice is almost inaudible to her own ears when she finds the courage to reply, “Our wedding?” She feels as weightless as she did with his hand interwoven with hers, declaring that they were now a family with an unbreakable bond. Offhandedly offering her the one thing she has never had and always desired.

“How can you be a dutiful wife without a wedding? The mistress and wife are now best friends, right? You are also no longer the mistress. You’re one of us.”

He opens his legs, stance wide and inviting, the material of his dress pants stretch tight across the wide expanse of his thighs. Suit coat opened to reveal the gleaming white shirt under that hugs the muscled curves of his body. Her own cheeks are burning too now, she drags in a breath of stagnant air, gulping to clear the tightness in her throat.

With a broad sweep of his hands, he grabs her arm dragging her closer to him, until she tumbles like a rag doll onto the couch, pressed close to his thigh with little room to move.

His hand reaches up to cup her hand, she fights the urge to nuzzle into his soft hold, “You look beautiful, like an angel.” He eyes her short white dress, she is a picture of innocence, proving that you shouldn’t believe everything you see.

His own baritone voice is soft and delicate as a feather, as if anything louder will burst this bubble they are encapsulated in.

“Do you think of us...doing that? Getting married?” The hope that drips from each syllable is thick and heavy, she feels incredibly vulnerable, the armor around her body not enough to protect her from him.

He stares at her, a long quiet pause, his eyes glossy and expressive, “I think about.....forever.” He tenderly answers, words hanging heavy in the space between them.

She clutches the smooth lapel of his suit, needing support, her body feeling like it could fly away right now and be lost in the wind.

Suddenly she can’t help but to imagine it, him handsome as ever waiting for her at the end of an aisle with wet eyes tracking her movement, his suit perfect as it is now, Sang-Tae by his side, as they are bound together forever. The second kiss is inevitable as well.

Her arms are too weak from the vision, but with a small tug of his suit, he’s moving and meeting her at her end of the couch, his hands curl around the small of her waist, gentle as if she is something fragile to be cherished.

Their lips grow closer like opposite ends of a magnet, their lips meet again in a peck, before she tugs harder and he spills onto her body, consuming her mouth with his. His tongue pries her mouth open, licking at the seams until she gives him access. She moans into the kiss as he hovers over her, strong arms pressing into the arm of the chair as to not crush her. He turns her head maneuvering her to press deeper, his tongue lapping at her, moving with certainty now, gone is his usual cloak of shyness. She falls back onto the couch and gasps as he slides into position above her, his legs knocking her own open to make space for him.

His warm hands caress the side of her head, as he draws back from the languid kiss, eyes as dark and searing as coal. With a careless but captivating flex of his shoulders, he shrugs off his coat and it rustles to the ground. If possible, he is even more gorgeous now in just the dress shirt and pants.

She strokes her hand down his chest, relishing the warmth underneath oozing out at their close proximity. His stare is intense as he gazes at her touching him, then he lowers his head consuming her once again, this kiss more smoldering than the last. His hands caress and soothe across her body unhurriedly, indulgent, finding purchase on naked legs, smoothing up and down the soft skin.

With blunt nails, she scratches down his back, his shirt soft beneath her nails, his back muscles barely concealed by the material, large and prominent under her touch. He groans at the sensation, breathing into her open mouth, before sucking her tongue into his mouth, their tongues wrestle playfully, in no rush as they have all the time in the world. Forever.

A loud thump from upstairs knocks them from their reprieve, as they swiftly pull away from each other, her eyes on his face as he looks at the stairs, she sighs knowing how this usually goes. He loses himself in the moment with her, kisses her until she can’t feel her legs but once he is reminded of reality he is gone, fleeing like a thief in the night.

The sudden loss of his body heat confirms her presumption, she begins to stand up reluctantly, before his voice imbibes her movement. “Hold on.” Confusion colors her eyes until he falls to his knees, one arm sliding under the bend of her knees and the other around her back. In one fluent move, he lifts with her sequestered in his arms, she grabs his shoulders instinctively. She looks up at him in wonder, as smitten as when he rode in the rain to rescue her.

When she glances at his face, his eyes penetrate her own, like staring directly at the sun she turns away, shyly placing her head on his chest, feeling soft and defenseless. Her body jostles at his first step, clutching on tighter as he ascends the stairs, long strides as he climbs the stairs with her in his arms. Her additional weight not hindering his motion in the slightest. With a flushed cheeks she observes as he walks to her door, bypassing his own door. He gently places her on her feet, but only for a moment as soon as he opens the door, he delicately lifts her once again. Kicking the door shut with a soft bang.

The clicks of his dress shoes piercing on her wooden floors, they mirror the drumming of her own booming heartbeat. He is the only one capable of making her swoon in this manner, she will never get used to the feeling.

He places her on bed, simply gazing at her, before reaching behind her and tugging her hair loose from her ponytail, fingers carding through her thick lustrous hair. Her reaction is instant, a deep long moan pours from her lips, pins of pleasure rushing through her scalp. “So beautiful.” He whispers thickly, the words stuck in his throat, like molasses.

“You too.”

He smiles at her response, his hands rubbing her head as he sits beside her and he is too far away, her hands yearn to be on him, with eager fingers she draws him onto the bed with her, he comes easily, wrapping her up in his powerful arms, absorbing her small figure. He hums as he continues to stroke her head, the vibrations running through her body, her skin tingles in response.

“You know. don’t you?”

His gentle touch almost distracts her from his sudden questions, shaking the fuzziness from her head she gazes into his eyes, “Know what?”

With a composed smile he replies, “That I love you.”

Her mind goes blank, white noise as her brain tries to catch up with the words he just uttered to her casually on a Tuesday evening, the sun shines through her window, leaves falling from trees, as the world keeps spinning, but not her world, that is frozen.

She didn’t know. Couldn’t know. Love. Had anyone ever loved her before? She can’t recall, the last two people to utter those words to her were gone now. Their love hadn’t felt like this, he hadn’t screamed it as he demanded her obedience in return. He had simply offered it again, like the choice was hers, she could have it if she wanted. She’d never wanted like this before.

The tears fall uncontrollably from her eyes, she whimpers as he brushes them away, lovingly, his own eyes swelling up with unshed tears. “Don’t cry.” He begs as he kisses her again, pouring all the love he has for her into her, it overflows.

She tastes the saltiness of her own tears, as their mouths move sensuously, his hand firm on her face as he kisses her again and again, swallowing her moans ravenously, before she feels his hand on her back, he grips the zipper of her dress and waits patiently. Her nod is immediate and then she feels the cool air, her skin pebbling with goosebumps, as he carefully undresses her. He slides the dress off her shoulders, watching as it cascades to her lap. Her white bra gleaming on her flushed pink skin, he looks intently at the newly revealed skin, before coming back to her face. His lips curve into a smile before he whispers, “Why are you blushing?”

She doesn’t deign his imposition with an answer, too inflamed to play this particular game. Boldly stripping the dress off her body, lifting long lithe legs before tossing the material on the ground.

Gang-tae’s mouth falls open as his eyes devour her, crawling up her milky thighs, halting at the white lace that covers where she is dripping, resuming over the small valleys of her heaving breasts before landing squarely on her face.

His slightly calloused hands fondle her lush skin as she presses into his electric touch, she squirms on the bed, wetness seeping through the thin material of her panties, his eyes snap down to the juncture between her legs, avidly observing as she grinds into the air, silently begging for release.

Brushing the downy skin of her flat belly, he reaches the white lace, eyes locking on hers as she nods, lifting off the bed to help him, with a deep breath he pulls the offending item from her quivering body. Her nerves rise as he stares at her, eyes unmoving as he drinks in her, she feels herself moisten as he hovers over her still fully clothed, suit crumpled from their actions. The only deviation the hard erection protruding out from the space between his legs.

He moves to remove his shirt and she impishly snatches his hand, with a raspy voice she commands, “No. Leave it on.”

His eyes widen, as he releases the button in his hand, his face slack until a small smile splits it open, “Another place I can wear the suit?”

She blushes, nodding, he slides down the bed until his head is level with her groin, his intention clear as he grabs her legs and pries them open putting her on display for the first time. His hard gasps brushing across her wet folds, as he swipes across the hot skin, fingers gliding easily with how aroused she is. A moan escapes her lips, as he caresses her clit before slipping a long finger into her tight opening, setting a languid pace that drives her mad. Her juices are soaking his fingers, trickling down until they soak the cuff of his shirt. At the sight, he begins to thrust faster, fucking into her as she groans and twists on his fingers, loud cries reverberating off the walls.

In a sudden, his fingers are gone and she feels miserably empty, she opens her lips to yell, whine, shout, demand more, before she feels something smooth being shoved into her mouth severing her ability to complain. With a surprised look she meets his eyes, his neck is empty now, no more silk tie wrapped around his throat, it is now drenched in her saliva, stuffed in her mouth.

“You need to be quiet, or we’ll have to stop.” He whispers with a roguish grin, eyes taking in the vision she makes, lain across the bed bare to his eyes with only her bra and his tie as a gag in her open mouth.

His fingers are back with a vengeance, ramming into her as she screams around the tie impeding her cries, she meets his every thrust, desperate for him, lightheaded from the tie obstructing her airway and the immense pleasure roaring through her body.

Desperately, ripping her bra from her own heated body, her breasts jostling at his brutal pace as he devastates her, then she watches him lower his head, intently watching his own fingers surging into her, he draws his fingers away once more only to replace them with his tongue. Drinking the sweet nectar like a dying man, his tongue lapping at her pussy in wide strokes. Before he stiffens the appendage and thrusts into her, her body curves violently off the bed, her back bending at the sensation.

She thanks god for the tie in her mouth, knowing her scream would have been piercing without the gag. The sound of his zipper lowering is deafening in the room with only her muffled pants breaking the silence. Then there are wet sounds beneath her, lifting her head she glances down at him, to see his hard cock jutting from the opening in his pants as he thrusts into his own hands. His head red and angry with arousal, clear fluid seeping out and aiding his hands glide up and down the large shaft.

Almost too sinful a picture, it’s burned in her retina.

He simultaneously unravels them both, his tongue and hands moving in harmony, his strokes becoming uneven and she knows the meaning. Adrenaline gushes through her veins as she grabs his head pulling it away from her molten center, he looks up at her with glossy lips, tongue swiping across to catch the excess. Her inner walls clench at the sight. Too fucking sexy for his own good, even more dangerous now that he knows his effect.

She drags him up her naked body, rubbing against his suited body until their bodies are aligned. The heat from his cock is scorching, with a sinuous roll of her hips rubs herself on him, shuddering at the pleasure and his raucous gasp, his hips move compulsively, thrusting through her wetness as they grind on each other. He leans forward, kissing her around the tie in her mouth, licking at her stretched mouth, before nipping at her bottom lip drawing into his own mouth.

Their hips are harmonious as they thrust into each other, sensation raking their bodies, before its all together too much and not enough.

With a tilt of his hips and one fluid move, he glides into her, the juices leaking from her smoothing his journey, until he is pressed flush against her, still. His arms clench in their position next to her head as the pleasure nearly undoes him and his tight control. She lays still, her own reckoning suspending her movement, his cock fills her completely, her walls forced open to accept his girth. She takes as deep a breath as she can around the gag, white spots dancing behind her eyes.

She reaches up to stroke his hair, impatiently grinding up into him, watching his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows sluggishly, before he glides out almost completely, just the tip remaining inside and thunderously drives back into her, his hands on her hips preventing her from moving. He plunges into her, crashing against her clit with every thrust, her moans lost around the tie in her mouth. While he buries his own groans into her hair, working her over with long, deep movements. His crisp shirt scratching against her hard nipples and her skin burning on the satin of his dress pants, sweltering beneath him as he wrecks her.

His voice scraping past his lips he whispers, “I want this forever, want you forever. I’ll never leave you.”

She thrashes on the bed, his movements and words overstimulating her body, as she hammers herself onto Gang-tae’s cock, smacks filling the air as the scent of their lovemaking permeates the room. Collecting her wrists into his huge hand, he pulls them over her head, her body stretched tight, as he pummels her into her, mouth falling to suck in her bouncing nipple. His teeth gnawing at the peaks, the pain quickly morphing to pleasure. His powerful hips drive deeper, losing rhythm as he closes in, now pistoning in her wetness, she latches onto his shoulder, their eyes unfocused as the end draws near.

Her walls clench and unclench as she shakes apart on the bed, pleasure knocking all the air from her lungs, she gasps for air around the tie, Gang-tae drags the soaked material from her mouth, making her lightheaded from the influx of oxygen, before he steals her breath again with a final punishing drive of his hips that spirals him over the edge of bliss.

His cum is sweltering as he empties into her quivering pussy, the excess dripping out and onto the bed. A thick stream landing on his pants, stark white against the jet black.

With a huff he falls onto her, crushing her underneath him, she savors the closeness, heart hammering against her chest, still recovering from the euphoric moment. Before finally, pushing at him with weak hands, with a deep sigh he rolls over onto the bed.

“If that’s the outcome, I’m never going to stop wearing suits.”

She slaps at his chest too boneless to reprimand him, he dodges her hand, instead grabbing it to pull her in, she softens as he cuddles her close. After a few peaceful moments of silence she finds the courage she didn’t have earlier.

“I do too, you know?” For once she is the coward, the words caught in her throat. She feels all her love for him flowing through her body, she just can’t... say it. Yet.

But he smiles in understanding, they have forever for her to gain her courage.

Gang-tae enters the room he shares with his older brother, hair still wet from his shower, Mun-Yeong’s scent still lingering on his skin. His cheeks pinken in memory of what they just did, only a few feet from his unaware brother. The moonlight against her skin had been criminal, he’d never seen anyone that beautiful, he still couldn't believe he was allowed to have this dream. His suit sits crumpled in the bathroom hamper, cum stains mocking him as Mun-yeong gets her wish, he can no longer wear that particular suit. Far too embarrassed to bring that to the cleaners, he will just have to get more suits.

Joining Sang-tae on the bed, he smiles at the television, his brother’s voice melting with the characters as he recites the lines by heart.

He is unprepared when Sang-tae turns to look at him, searching his face as he always does before speaking, “Why is your face so red?”

Stuttering out a response, he answers, “I just took a hot shower it’s probably from that.” But that answer doesn’t halt his brother’s interrogation, “No, your face is red and your pupils are dilated. You look like that when you’re shy. Are you feeling shy, did you do something to make you feel shy?”

His face heats up further at the inquiry, all the intimate images flashing through his mind instantly, “No!”

His brothers looks unconvinced as he raises his eyebrows. Damn.

“Um.. yes a little. I guess.” He finally answers honestly.

Before Sang-tae knocks his breath away, “Where you and Mun-yeong wrestling? I went to get water and I heard noises in the room. You were groaning and panting, it sounded like you were wrestling.”

If he could jump out the window and survive, he would. Embarrassment stings his skin as his brother continues, unaware of the damage he is doing.

“You shouldn’t wrestle, if you two fight I’ll scold you. Be nice to each other and get along, don’t wrestle anymore and you shouldn’t feel embarrassed if she beat you, she’s a vicious fighter. I remember.” He states, turning back to the television.

With that his brother is immersed back into the adventures of Ko Dil-Gang, no longer interested in him as the familiar lines fall from his lips again.

Groaning he throws himself on the floor, wishing it would open up and swallow him.

He is a good person, he doesn’t deserve this.

#its okay to not be okay #psycho but it's okay #its okay to not be okay fic #multiple uses of ties #suit smut as promised #i do all my writing at night #had to throw in some lovey doveyness with the smut #after today I needed it #for the corpse gang #perv gang #I will edit later just wanted to get it out

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laketaj24 · 5 years

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The Rules IV: Triggered

Author’s Note: Thank you all soo much for your input!!! It helped me out more than you know! This was fun as hell to write and I hope you’re down for a ride! It’s about to go down. There are two songs that really hit the nail on the head for this part, they are linked below! Happy Reading my people!

Pairing: CEO!Henry Cavill X Reader

Warning: Angst. SMUT. DRAMA.

Want to catch up! Click HERE

Song Inspirations: Jhene Aiko: Triggered (First Part) Jhene Aiko: P*SSY Fairy

If your heart slowed anymore, you’d collapse. But it wasn’t just the lethargic beat of your heart that slowed down. The kiss. The fucking kiss was being replayed in your head over and over, the way she cupped him, the way his lips touched hers and he deepened it. You feel the bile rise at the helm of your throat and you step back.

“Excuse me.” You whispered to a bewildered Alex, “I need to leave.”

He noticed. You could tell by the way he looked back to Henry and then you. His tall frame went from relaxed to apathetic. “Is it him?” He gave a wave in Henry’s direction and then stepped closer to you. “Y/N?”

“I can’t talk about this right now.” You attempted to push your way through the crowd and caught an opening into the gala hall. Alex was on your feet, his long strides made it easy for him to catch you. “Hey, I can’t talk about it right now.”

Your mind raced, he took a month away from you, was it because the entire time he had her? Were you some fucking mistress, side-chick, side bitch… Homewrecker? Inwardly you taunted yourself with the unceasing line of insults to yourself. Fuck! Fuck.

“Look.” Alex cleared his throat and stepped closer to you. His presence kept you from bolting into the nearest room and destroying everything in it. You were grateful for that, maybe. “He is not worth you not enjoying this night. Do you know how beautiful you are right now? Every eye in the building was with you when we arrived. Make him mad, but don’t let him win. He did nothing to deserve a win apparently.”

The pep talk worked and more and more you were starting to understand why Alex was a friend you didn't want to lose regardless of what happened. The first dance is casual, you fight tears watching the woman touch his hand, laid her hand on his chest and laugh like he was a comedian. He wasn't that damn funny. You stay for an hour, it was required to stay an hour, you have done only what was expected of you and nothing more. Alex took you home, the car ride is silent besides the occasional murmur of a curse word under your breath.

Home is what you craved more than anything, once the door was closed and Alex's driver left you released a scream that scared you, followed by a sob as you felt your heart literally break. What a fucking feeling? Grief for someone who didn't deserve it. You didn't drink to solve your problems, so alcohol was a no. Sleep was the obvious answer. The dress felt like it burned your skin, you were certain it didn't, but the fact that it came from him made it poison. He was poison, that you willingly chugged down like a vintage wine and now the repercussions had finally made their grand entrance. And fuck them.

Why were you looking them up, they were a known couple, known to everyone but you? You typed in his name and nothing but her appeared Billionaire Henry Cavill and Olivia Tate grace the Emmy's with their presence. Will this playboy finally settle down? Olivia Tate has HC's heart around her finger. You were sick again. You throw the phone on the couch and screenshot the picture of him kissing her. Is this the future Mrs. Cavill?

You changed clothes, slipping the crop top and leggings on. You knew it wasn't the end of the night. And you were right, sleep does not come. He sends you seven messages, each of which you stared at trying to formulate a response, but they didn't merit one, until the last one.

Henry: I've been looking for you for an hour. Where are you?

Henry: You left without a word? Are you mad or something?

Henry: A response would be nice.

Henry: Y/N

Henry: Y/N. I'll find you later.

Henry: Be there in ten.

Y/N: Drive safe. Are you bringing the wife with you?

You hit send of the picture you'd saved.

Henry: Wow.

The wait for him to arrive only infuriates you more, your mother had always said your temper was like a wildfire, once it sparked it would consume everything to the ground. You knew she was right; Henry even knew your temper needed to be managed, but no one fucking managed you. This included Henry. He didn't knock. He never did really, he entered with his perfectly tailored suit and an eye roll. And the lamp crashed behind him. He ducks, but his face is shocked.

"What the fuck was that?" he hissed.

"My fucking two-hundred-dollar lamp." You picked up the shoes and hurled them across the room next and he ducked as if he knew they were coming and charged towards you. You moved from his grasp. "You have been with her for a year!" It roared out of you and then the tears followed. "Why did you even come over here? Did you think I would be okay with it? Do you think I want to be your whore? Come when you say, fuck when you say and then you go home to her. Don't touch me!!"

"You're not going to let me explain, are you?"

"Oh, for fuck's sake! Explain Henry, tell me what lie did you conjure up, while headed here. She's just a friend. I wasn't with her." you shake your head and Henry folds his arms across his chest. "Is she the reason you wouldn't let me kiss you?"

"Are you finishing acting like-."

"Say it!" You cut him off and step closer to him. You wanted to hit something, but his face was too pretty for that shit, and despite your anger, your mother raised you better than that, "Like what Henry? Get out."

"Y/N."

"I said get the fuck out!"

His jaw clenched and he pushed his hands through his thick mane of brown curls, ending the polished look he had earlier. "I'll call you later."

"Oh, no the fuck you won't." You opened the door to Alex standing there with his eyes on Henry. Why was he back? "He was just leaving." You explained to Alex. "Bye."

Alex stepped aside and held up the brown bag, you could smell the Chinese and noticed the wine bottle. "We didn't get to eat." He explained. The smug grin on his face sealed the night, he was a good guy.

You smiled and watched Henry stare at him before looking back at you. He shook his head, "Goodnight."

"Fuck you." You whispered.

In the past hearing, people say they were numb sounded foolish, of course, they felt. A human cannot simply shut it all off, but you were wrong. So wrong, it was easier to go numb than to feel. It started with work, your time invested in the company allotted you vacation three fucking weeks, paid and free.

The first week you spent with Alex, not fucking his brains out like a part of you wanted to but being a friend. He allowed you to talk, you told him everything and he listened with no judgment and that made it easier. Tia was around too, she spent the night with you when she could, in between hair appointments and makeup slots. Her career was changing fast, you were happy for her even if you barely showed it at times.

The second week you shut them both out. You told them you were out of town, but you were in your apartment with food and tear-soaked pillows. His phone calls had stopped, but you feared it was only because you changed the number. Work could contact you via email if they needed to, but no one even called you during the first two weeks. The marketing strategy you left would do well, you knew it. And besides your certainty in your program, you didn’t care what Cavill Industries did at the moment.

The third week, everything went numb, there were no more tears to cry. Every inkling of him that existed was gone, including the $6000 dollar dress. You burned it and at that final act, the night was gone from your mind. He’d broken the rules. You’d both set them and when he kissed her, he disqualified himself.

The first day back to work your anxiety had you in its grip. Every phone call and opening of your door you dreaded. But he didn’t come. He wasn’t even in the building, according to your boss and that eased everything. You could work with him not being anywhere near you, and that made you apply to the other firms that had once been interested in you. You got two calls immediately. Matheus Corporate wanted to hire you without an interview and after the offer they sent, you were taking it. You typed out your resignation letter and turned it into HR. It was the right choice.

It was a month before you saw him again, and the Cavill you saw briefly in the lobby looked nothing like the one you had grown accustomed to. His hair was wild, and he had a beard, an actual beard. His slate-blue eyes were tired as were his movements. Just seeing him triggered you, the horrid memories of that night flooded your head and the pain resurfaced. Being numb would not be possible around him. You knew it. You hid in the stairwell like an idiot and avoided him. Nine more days of work here and you would be clear.

“Look, the way I see it, we are friends now.” Alex kicked his feet up on your desk and looked to you for affirmation.

You gave it to him nodding your head and chugging down your third bottle of water. “Yes, we’re friends. So, when I call you up at midnight and you’re with your little girlfriend cuddling and things you still have to make an appearance.”

“Girlfriend?” He scoffed.

“You heard me.” You pointed at him.

“I’m hoping one day the little girlfriend, I am cuddling will be you.” He smiled. “There is no rush and no expectation for it. But I didn’t want you to leave this place, oblivious to the fact that I really like you.”

Your heart warmed and you smiled. “Nine days to go and your boldness is out the bag.”

He shrugged. “Did I get brownie points?”

“A whole cake.” You said. You were back to work an hour later, singing under your breath when the door opened.

“I told him to wait outside.” Your assistant said, trying to beat Henry in the office. She turned to you. “Ms. YLN, Mr. Cavill is here to see you.” But he was already in front of your desk.

“Get out.” He said to her.

“Whatever you have to say to me, she can hear.” For some reason, you knew if the door closed you would succumb to him, “Speak.”

“You are not leaving.” His voice was not composed, just wavering and near weak. “Y/N.”

“Gianna, you can go.” You exhaled. What the hell had happened to him? She left the room and the space that once seemed huge started to shrink. Henry walked towards you and you held your hand up when he reached your desk. “What?”

“You changed your number.”

“What did you expect?”

“For you to give me a chance to explain,” His eyes plead with yours for the opportunity. “Can I have that please?”

“You don’t owe me an explanation, I was never yours, right?”

“You’re still mine.” The slight possessiveness came back to his voice.

It made you weak for a moment, your hitched breath took over the silence. “Hurry up, Henry.”

“She is my girlfriend.” He said.

The words punch at a wound you were certain was nearly healed. You hoped he was going to say that he left her, the pathetically infatuated part of you wanted him to say, she dumped him. But he just reaffirmed what you already knew. Olivia Tate was the official girlfriend of Henry Cavill. “Thanks?” You swallowed. “Why are you here?”

“I don’t want her to be, I want you.”

“You are making no sense and I don’t want to hear it. I don’t want to throw things at you here. I just wanted to leave all this in the past. Go be with her.”

“Y/N.” He said your name as if he was fighting for breath. “There are some things you do not understand about me. Things I would rather not talk about, but I don’t want her.”

“Then leave her! Damn it.” You bit out. “You are a grown man. You can make decisions on your own. If you didn’t want her then end it. End it now.”

“I can’t talk here.”

“Where else are you gonna talk?” You laughed. “My place? Hell no.”

“Mine.” He shook his head. “I’ll send a car for you after work. Don’t make them work Y/N. Just come.” He looked at you. “Please.”

“Fine.”

You didn’t fight his orders on meeting him, curiosity reared its ugly head and you were gone. His home was at the edge of town, the driveway curved up a hill and lead to the glass estate. It was incredible. Had you been here on better circumstances, you would have enjoyed the view. You stepped out and the door opened. Henry had shed the suit for a black shirt and black sweats that hung at his waist somehow accenting his frame. Fuck. Were you even going to be strong enough to say no to this god? One last fuck? Just to say goodbye fuck, it wouldn’t be frowned upon.

You argued with yourself and walked into the home, the décor was much like his office dark brown woods with a modern sense. You stood in the foyer and looked at him. The closer to the door you were, the more likely you were to say no to him without hesitation.

“I can’t shut you out of my mind.” He confessed. He had shaved, but his hair was still tucked behind his ears, longer than normal.

“Just tell me.”

“I met Olivia in college.” He sighed. “We used to date off and on, but it was never more than sex. Never.”

“That’s all it is with us.” You interrupted. “Hence the reason I don’t need this talk.”

“Then why’d you come?” Henry stared. “I have been infatuated with you for months and when I finally got the opportunity to be with you, I jumped at it.”

“Don’t feed me bullshit.” You held your hand up.

“Who do you think hired you?”

“Why can’t you just leave her?” You asked.

“She knows things about me that can ruin me.” he stopped talking. “Liv is talented at getting the things she wants. If I leave her, she’ll spill it.”

“Oh, get the fuck out of here!” You laugh. “You expect me to believe this Lifetime movie shit? You got a girlfriend and you want me too. Admit it.”

“I don’t want her.” He shook his head. “I want you.”

“You can say it until you’re blue in the face. If you don’t show me, how in the fuck am I supposed to believe that this… isn’t just a way for you to get what you want.”

Henry sunk to his knees. “I’ll beg you.”

“Dogs beg.” You spat.

“Anything.” He rasped.

“Do you know how bad I hurt? I didn’t work for weeks. I didn’t care for weeks. We’ve been together a month. Do you think my behavior was normal? Do you think yours is normal? No. We are bad for one another and I just…”

How did he get up so fast? You moved back and he was on you, his steps heavy and determined. He caged you against the wall and then you realized, his face was wet with tears.

“You have to believe me.” He whispered and the fear clawed through him. “Please.”

There was an urge pushing you to leave this place, nothing good can come from him. But his face was pained, you’d never seen this part of him. You cupped his face affectionately and your lips graze his cheek. It feels as if he shutters and then you just do it. You hesitantly kiss him. Your lips touch his and the energy that passes through you ignites a groan.

“Please.” The plea is accompanied by him responding to the kiss, tenderly. He leaned into you, his body blanketing to you and taking whatever breath you thought you had left. But you were sure that he took your breath away without a kiss. His brow furrowed as he deepened it pushing your head against the door. He wrapped his arms around you, swaddling you in his muscles while somehow it wasn’t the muscles that you felt. For the first time, he was being himself with you. He allowed you to feel what you didn’t even know was there.

He pulled back from you and he moved as if he was dizzy. The breath he had stolen from you had made it's way back to you and you inhaled. There was more than a desire that flickered between the two of you.

“I’ve wanted to do that for so long.”

His eyes flashed with a little hope. “Same.” Henry didn’t wait for permission he just scooped you up from the floor and kissed you again, this time it hurt. The hurt is so fucking good.

“I want,” the words were caught in your throat. Was this right or were you spiraling? “I want you, here. Right here.” He lowered you both down on the steps so that you were straddling him, you didn’t care for his comfort. You wanted him to feel you. “You remember the rules?” You whispered. Your tongue licks his lips and then dives in and he’s taken back, gripping your ass that is winding on his dick. You can feel him through the sweats. “Hmm…”

“I could never forget.”

“Don’t cum unless I say.” You smiled before kissing him again. You bucked your hips on and his eyes widened the lust pushing through. “You hear me, sir?” Your voice was low and filled with lust. “I want to fuck you right here.” He grew harder, flinching against you. “I want you to moan my name when you cum…”

Henry’s hands were in your hair, pulling you back so he could see your eyes. “I’ll do whatever the fuck you want me to, just fuck me.” He begged.

“Did you miss me?”

“Always.” He groaned lowering his head to your breast. He sprung the from the blouse and ripped it in two. “Always.”

You wanted to believe him, but the lingering hurt from the past month. “If you lie to me again,” You unsheathed him from his sweats and stroked your hand down the length of his cock. You swiped the precum that oozed from the tip down and pumped again. “Missing me is all you’ll know how to do, sir.”

“Fuck,” He jumped in your hand and sucked air in through his teeth.

“Understand?”

“I-,” He moaned when you increased your speed. “Oh fuck.”

“Yeah,” You were so turned on by the way you were making him feel. You now understood why he wanted to be in control of everything in the bed. It was sexy as fuck to watch what you could do to someone. You could watch them unravel, put them back together and do it again.

Henry pushed the pen skirt up and easily ripped the panties. He tossed them behind you and his fingers were in you. Prodding and working, you fucking missed him, even though you shouldn’t have. “Y/N.” He moaned. “I’m almost there.” He panted.

You stopped stroking him and began to ride his fingers, lifting yourself from them and then back on until the next time Henry pushed his cock in. He was fighting every urge he had to allow you some control in this thing. He threw his head back when he was fully inside of you and stilled.

But you wanted to fuck him. You wanted to ride him slow and draw out every fucking moment you could with him. So, if you regretted being here in the morning, the walk of shame wouldn’t have too much shame. Your walls sealed around him and he gripped your hips trying to stop you from fucking him, but you continued. Your rhythm was wild, you used his shoulders like an anchor and smiled down at him. His face was red and misted with sweat. His curls were soaked, and he was mesmerized. Your tits bounced in front of him and your eyes were rolling. “Y/N.” He warned and you felt his cock grow harder and then he growled, shuddering in your breast as if he had waited forever to cum inside of you.

“Seems you broke a rule.” You laughed and continued to fuck him. He made sounds that only made you wetter for him and the man was part machine. He had to be as his cock grew back rigid and he was still shuttering from coming the time before.

Henry licked his fingers and slapped them onto your clit before he pulled you towards him. His fingers knew how to work your pussy. Moving in circles and then another slap before he started back again, and you were about to cum. You didn’t want to. You shook your head and Henry looked up at you, “I won’t last another time. I ca-,” Your pussy shook around his and your thighs locked down as the pleasure surged through your body. “Shit!” He yelled before slamming into you and spilling his cum again. “Y/N.” He rasped.

The floor wasn’t a bad place to lay for the time being. Henry was wrapped around your naked body and there was no need for cover. He kept you warm enough.

“Was she the reason you didn’t kiss me?”

He exhaled. “She,” he paused. “I never know when she will decide to come back into my life.” He admits. “And up until you, it was easier not kissing, that way when it ended… there were no emotions in it. It was just fucking. I can’t do that with you, okay? A single glance from you could make my heart stop, a kiss would have shattered me.” Henry admitted.

It was quiet for a while. Just deep breaths and kisses all down your body. “Let’s go to bed.” You said finally. “My boss would be mad as hell if I missed tomorrow.”

“I’m throwing you resignation away, and if you’re having problems out of Mike… I’ll fire his ass.” He stood up and reached his hand out to you. “Come on, the bed is the proper place to make sure you’re so tired work isn’t an option.”

His bed was comfortable, the sheets were so soft you were tempted to ask where he got them. You slept peacefully entangled in the muscled mass that is Henry. But it was not a complaint to make, being without him for so long made you grateful you could listen to him breathe and feel his heart against your back.

“Thank God.” The unfamiliar voice came from the bottom of the bed.

Your eyes narrowed as the bright sun made its way through the windows. The blonde hair was the first take away, it was Olivia. You scrambled from under Henry’s body. “Henry!” If she wanted a fight, you were ready to fight her, you’d just prefer to not be naked while doing it.

Henry groaned and once he caught sight of her he jolted up from the bed. “Olivia. You’re not supposed to be here.”

“Don’t be rude. I was just saying thank God.” Olivia leaned over his legs and looked at you. “I hated watching him mope around here. He looked like a puppy, sad because his bitch went away.”

“Bitch? I beg your pardon, Henry if you don’t get this woman.” Henry gave an admonished look to Olivia and gripped your hand. It didn’t comfort you. It just pissed you off. You snatched your hand away from him. “Who the fuck do you think you are?” One more foul word from her and you’d fight naked.

“Excuse my manners, darling. I’m Olivia and I am so glad you are here. It seems we have some rules to introduce.” She pushed up from the bed and left the room. “Chop, chop Henry, dear. Bring your bitch, I have a plane to catch.”

#henry cavill #Henry Cavill fandom #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill x you #henry cavill x y/n #laketa j writes

943 notes · View notes

mikkomacko · 4 years

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Sweet As Honey 16

For Shelby, happy birthday love! Stay awesome xo

Harry's just gotten out of the shower when his phone rings, buzzing on the bathroom counter top as y/n's contact pops up. Gripping the towel around his waist in one hand, Harry picks it up and answers the Face Time. He's greeted with a blurry picture of Arlo, who's shaking the phone in excitement. "Daddy!"

Gasping dramatically, Harry grins back. "Good morning bug!" He laughs when Arlo continues to wag the phone around, and he can hear y/n laugh too.

"Baby, stop shaking daddy. He can't even see you if you keep doing that!" Arlo freezes at his mother words, stilling the phone. Harry's able to make out the kitchen behind him, and by the colorful toys peaking around the edges of the screen Arlo's got the phone balanced on his walker.

"Where's mumma?" Harry asks, propping the phone up against the mirror so he can brush his teeth. Arlo thrusts the phone forward, it clattering down to the kitchen floor and he laughs around the toothpaste in his mouth.

"Arlo you don't throw the phone at me." Y/n scolds, and then after some blurry movement he can see his wife. She's in her fuzzy robe, hair a little messy on her head and he's pretty sure she just woke up. "Morning Harry."

Harry wiggles his fingers at her, spitting into the sink. "Hey darling, what's going on?"

Theo yelps in the background, and then Arlo's grumbling loudly. Y/n looks down at her feet, sighing softly. "Trying to make some oatmeal for us but someone's being a grump this morning." Arlo makes another annoyed sound.

"What's he whining about?"

Y/n settles her phone on the windowsill by the stove, allowing him to see her while she moves around to make breakfast. She's leans over, lifting Arlo from his walker and setting him on her hip. "He's mad that I'm making him eat real food instead of milk."

Arlo lays his head on her shoulder, tugging at the edge of her robe. Harry laughs, causing Arlo's head to perk up. Y/n sits him on the counter next to her, allowing him to still see Harry while she cuts up some blueberries.

Harry grabs his phone, returning to the bedroom. He's got to get dressed soon so he can head to the gym for press and warm ups, but he can take a minute to sit and talk to y/n and Arlo. "Don't blame him. I'd be mad too if I got your tits taken away from me."

Y/n rolls her eyes. "He's more concerned about the milk inside them, thank you." She rebuttals and Harry cackles. Arlo coos at the noise, leaning forward on his elbows so his face is close to the phone.

"Bug, can't see your mumma with your big head in front of the camera." Arlo ignores Harry, eyes staring so intently at the screen Harry feels as if Arlo's sat on his chest in person.

Y/n tugs on his pamper, pulling him back. "Listen to your daddy. S'not all about you." Arlo whines in frustration, reaching out and smacking y/n on the arm. It makes a loud stinging noise, but Harry knows it doesn't hurt too much. He's been on the receiving end of those chubby palms many times.

"Don't hit your mumma!"

"Don't hit me!" Harry and y/n scolds in unison, and she swats him back. Arlo grumbles, reaching to hit her again but she quickly scoops him up and sets him on the kitchen floor. "If you're going to be mean you can be by yourself!"

She scoops up the cut fruit on the counter, throwing it into the bowl of oatmeal on the counter. Arlo begins to wail, and Harry sees his little fingers reaching up towards her.

"Please don't tell me he's walking already?" Harry pleads, belly bubbling with apprehension. If he managed to miss Arlo's first steps after one night away he'll be devastated.

Giggling, she lifts Arlo back up onto her hip. "You've been gone one night Harry, you didn't miss any walking." He lets out a dramatic breath of relief. Arlo lays his head back on her shoulder, cheeks shiny with tears. Y/n digs out a spoon, scooping a little bite for him. He grumbles sadly, but his tongue flops out to welcome the bite.

"Never know," Harry reasons, smiling softly as he watches Arlo accept more bites. His chubby little hand falls down to y/n's growing tummy, and Harry thinks he needs a bigger chest to contain his growing heart. "little bugger said his first words when I was gone."

She giggles at the memory, scooping up a bite for herself. Arlo whines, tongue poking out for another bite. Y/n, glad that he's no longer pawing for breast milk, happily feeds him.

"Well, we've got a surprise for you but it's not walking." Harry brightens, smiling innocently at her. He widens his eyes a bit, giving her that same puppy look Arlo gives when he wants something.

"A surprise? What is it?"

She takes one look at him and laughs, shaking her head. Arlo finishes the last bite of his oatmeal and she uses her sleeve to wipe his messy mouth. "I'm not telling you mister, no matter how wide those eyes of yours get."

He pouts. "You always fall for my eyes."

"I know," she places the bowl in the sink, smiling at him. "but I'm building up some strength. Have to if I'm going to be raising three of you boys."

Harry scoffs. "You didn't raise me! I'm a man, was a man from the day you met me!"

Her amused smirk stays on, but her tone is a loving coo, "you were my first baby, Harry. Always be my first baby." He wants to argue, but then she's blowing him a kiss through the phone and he's all mush.

Harry feels odd leaving the unfamiliar locker room, following the path to the ring without y/n holding his hand. For being on Ken's turf, the cheers for him are surprisingly loud and Nick rubs his shoulders as if trying to say "all for you man!" to hype him up a bit. Nick stays off to the side while Harry and Liam slip through the ropes, Harry shrugging off his robe. Ken's name is announced, and much to Harry's enjoyment the cheers aren't as abundant as his were.

"Keep focused, wait him out," Liam instructs him quietly, helping with his gloves. "he's going to get some good hits in but he doesn't last long. He'll tire out, you step in with a quick combo and he's done for."

"Easy," Harry says, rolling out his shoulders.

"Easy," Liam agrees with a smirk, patting Harry on the back, "win it for y/n and Arlo, yeah?" Harry smirks, nodding as Liam exits the ring to stand next to Nick. The ref takes his place in the middle, beckoning Harry and Ken forward. They knock gloves together, Harry's stomach and chest fluttering with adrenaline. The bell rings, the ref ducks out of the way, and Harry zones in on Ken, ignoring the crowd around him. Y/n isn't in it so it doesn't matter anyway.

Maybe it's the reminder that he's doing this for y/n and Arlo. If he wins he'll keep moving up, until he's champion. He'll be able to give them everything they could ever want. Maybe it's just the excitement of being back in the ring after so long. Taking out the frustration of the past few months, particularly losing his childhood home and falling into the habit of fighting y/n. Whatever takes over him, he loves, because Ken only manages to get a few hard hits to Harry's torso before he's cornering him. He keeps him trapped against the ropes, smacking punches into his kidneys and arms that are protecting his face. It takes one hard hit to the hip for them to drop, and then Harry's delivering his knockout hit right to Ken's jaw.

The cheers are deafening, but all he can think about is his family back home. He's done it for them.

Arlo clumsily stuffs his pacifier between his lips, staring intently at y/n as she talks even though she knows she won't get an actual response out of him. Valentine's day is just around the corner so she's using her weekend without Harry to find a gift for him, but like usual, she can't think of anything that will even rival whatever he's planning. He's always out done her on Valentine's day and anniversaries (and pretty much every special occasion).

"Daddy's too good for all of this." She huffs, pouting at Arlo. He eyes a tiny stuffed turtle on the shelf of Valentine themed animals, little eyes widening beautifully, and she's still working on not turning to putty under those green eyes so she hands it to him. Gurgling happily, he rubs it's little fin over his cheek and the drool that smears into it's fabric is a certainty that she'll be buying it today. At least she got something for one of her boys, she thinks glumly, glaring at the gaudy gifts before her.

Giving up on gifts for now, she pushes the basket to the food section. She's recently got a new craving for spinach and artichoke dip, and that seems like a good distraction from the frustration of gift shopping. Arlo's grunting to himself, ignoring the moving world around him as she mindlessly goes up and down aisles. Her eyes land on a box of brownies, and she contemplating on whether or not to put walnuts in them when a familiar voice calls her name.

"Zayn?" She asks, bewildered by his sudden appearance in the city. He's got a basket in the crook of his arm, stacked with bags of bread that's way to much for one person.

"Its so good to see you!" Zayn exclaims, following y/n as she moves her basket off to the side. "And another baby? Congrats!"

Awkwardly thanking him, she accepts his side hug with a protective hand over her belly. "What are you in the city for?" She asks as politely as possible, stepping closer to the basket when Arlo wraps a hand around her shirt and tugs her towards him.

Zayn's eyebrows scrunch in confusion. "I live here, was just back home for my sister's birthday that same weekend you lot were."

"Oh," she says dumbly, laughing a bit. "I don't know why I assumed you still lived in town."

He laughs breezily, shrugging. "It's fine love. Didn't really come up at the diner that day. Was going to tell Harry but he seemed like he didn't really want to talk."

Arlo grunts angrily, a low growl in his voice that reminds her of a sound Harry makes when he's frustrated or angry, and he grips her shirt tighter. "Yeah, Harry's not too social." She laughs, lifting Arlo out of the cart. He clings to her side, eyeing Zayn with a scrunch between his eyebrows.

"That's right," he laughs along, glancing down at Arlo's glare. "Passed the trait onto this one huh? Arlo yeah?"

She bounces him on her hip, but he grunts angrily at her. "Yup. He's not too fond of strangers either, gets that same frown Harry does."

Despite how hard Arlo's glaring at him, Zayn smiles fondly at the miniature copy of Harry and y/n assumes he has to be used to that look if he was once friends with Harry. "It's so great to see Harry with a family. He was torn up after everything with his dad and are relationship kinda fell apart-" he winces, eyes a little guilty, "wish I'd tried harder to keep him around. Can't believe I missed Harry Styles getting married."

He laughs, shaking his head as if the thought of Harry standing at the alter waiting to be wed is too much for him. She supposes it is, knowing Harry had sworn off marriage and kids a long time ago, and the reminder that she's the one that brought him in makes her flush with pride.

Eyes widening, she beams at Zayn. He looks at her in confusion, stepping forward with his hands out cautiously. He glances at her stomach with worry, "what's wrong?"

Arlo grunts at him, reaching out to harshly shove at Zayn's chest but y/n moves to put him back in the basket. "I just remembered something and I've really got to go but it was great seeing you!" She's off, pushing the basket quickly without waiting for another word from Zayn. Arlo's looking at her with a scrunch on his nose, obviously very upset that she took the time to stop and talk to a stranger, one Arlo disliked from the moment he met Zayn. He gets his possessiveness from Harry too, but she can't be bothered to apologize to her son because she's come up with the perfect gift for Harry.

Harry's sore, but that does nothing to stop the anxious bouncing of his leg. They're well into city limits again, Nick heading to drop Harry off first rather than Liam in hopes of keeping his friend from bursting in the backseat. Harry had slept the whole way home, until they got within a half hour of the city and he'd shot awake like a bomb had gone off inside him.

"I know it was only two nights, but I swear he's gotten taller!" Harry rambles, unable to stop himself from raving about his babies. "And the baby had to have gotten bigger too! Y/n's looking fuller, and of course my kids want to grow lots when m'gone. S'not-"

"Look Harry here's your gate!" Liam interrupts, rubbing his temples. He's got a headache from Harry's ability to talk without having to take a breath. He wonders why that much energy isn't present during fights.

Harry starts stuffing his travel blanket and snack wrappers into the bag next to him, shoving his phone in his pocket and retying his shoe laces while the gate swings open. He's unbuckled before the cars even stopped, throwing the door open while Nick simultaneously throws the car in park.

"Thanks for the ride guys!" Harry says quickly, grabbing all his belongings. "See you at the gym!"

He cuts off Liam's goodbye with the slam of the car door, taking off on eager legs to the front steps. The door swings open for him, and he's met with the wonderful, absolutely wonderful, sight of his wife holding his son's hand with beaming smiles.

"Daddy's back!"

Arlo squeals in delight, tone so high pitched it stings a bit, but not even the slight wince can remove his smile. Dropping his bags to the floor, Harry kicks the front door shut with his foot and crouches down for his son. Arlo closes the tiny gap between them, fitting his belly into Harry's hands for him to lift him, and it's not until Harry's smacking kisses to those chubby cheeks he loves so much that he realizes what just happened.

"Darling," he breathes in shock, eyes wide when they meet her equally amazed ones. "did ya see that? He just-Arlo just-he walked! He bloody walked!"

The words sound surreal on his tongue for some reason, and even though y/n nods happily and presses a kiss to both of their faces, he needs to be certain that his baby boy just took his first steps. "Hold him." Harry instructs breathlessly, heart rattling as he hands Arlo over to y/n. He moves down the entryway, only about a foot away and crouches down. "Set him down."

Y/n does as she's told, setting Arlo who's been wiggling in her arms, onto his bare feet. "Daddy!" Arlo laughs, wobbling forward. He takes a couple tentative steps, but then he's charging forward with certainty into Harry's arms again. Tears spring up in his eyes as he throws Arlo up and catches him, showering him in kisses and praises. Arlo gurgles happily under Harry's loving words, and he beams when he realizes y/n is recorded them. He hopes she got him walking on camera because he wants to watch it for the rest of his life.

"Was this my surprise?" Harry sniffles, snuggling Arlo into his chest and bouncing him. Y/n brightens even more, keeping her phone recording the two boys.

"Arlo bubba, what do we tell daddy?" She calls softly, and Arlo sits up at her words. "Daddy?" He mumbles, eyebrows scrunching as if he's thinking really hard about what ever y/n has taught him to say. Harry can't help but coo at his cute little face, waiting excitedly for Arlo to speak.

"Daddy bubba, what do we say to daddy now?"

Harry bounces him again, biting his lip as Arlo looks over at y/n. She nods encouragingly and then he turns back to Harry, reaching up to cup Harry's stubble ridden jaw. "Love daddy."

The sound that leaves him is tortured but wholesome, and his teary eyes flood into a happy puddle of sniffles. "What was that bug?" Harry croaks, needing to hear it again. This time Arlo smiles widely, patting Harry's face. "Love daddy."

Y/n giggles wetly as Harry buries his face in Arlo's body, murmuring that he loves him too, and that Arlo's his good boy, and that they'll always be best mates. Fingers stroke through his hair, and he feels y/n wrap her other arm around them.

"We're so proud of you Harry," she promises, kissing his temple. "and we love you so much."

"Love daddy." Arlo repeats, sealing his slurred words with a tug on Harry's hair. He cries even harder, cheeks flushing in embarrassment when y/n laughs at him. It's good to be home.

"M'actually meeting up with Anne for lunch."

The line is silent for a moment and Harry pauses his walking, free hand resting on the knob of the locker room door while he waits for y/n to say something. "Oh," she finally breathes in confusion, "what for?"

Harry tugs open the door, crossing the gym so he can get to his car as quick as possible, and to the restaurant as quick as possible, and home as quick as possible. He's not exactly looking forward to a lunch with just him and Anne but he knows it's needed. Whenever they try to talk with y/n or Gemma around everything gets sugar coated or pushed on someone else. Y/n needs to stop speaking for him, and Gemma for Anne. He knows that, and he knows it'll make a big difference in the constant weight on his chest, but he's still anxious.

"Wanted to talk," he says simply, using the remote to unlock the car, "promised you I'd be better and this is how m'starting."

"Well I'm proud of you baby." Harry grins, glad that she's not upset about him leaving her and Arlo to lunch by themselves. "You'll call me if you need anything right?"

Harry settles into the car, waiting to start it so the Bluetooth doesn't mess up their phone call. "Of course I will. Do you want me to bring home any food?"

"Mmm maybe some ice cream?"

"I said food darling."

She huffs quietly. "Please? The baby really wants mint ice cream!"

Harry sighs, running a hand through his hair because she knows just how to make him bend. He can never say no to her, especially when his baby is involved. "Fine. Some for Arlo then too, yeah?"

"I can share with him-"

"Already sharing with the other one," Harry cuts off, "I can get him one of those mini things. It'll feel good on that bloody tooth of his too."

Harry's nose scrunches in annoyance at the reminder of the new tooth that's begun poking out of Arlo's gums. It really loves to bother him at night, waking him up with red cheeks and a fever. With y/n growing the baby, Harry's taken to getting up with Arlo so she can rest, sitting in the nursery or living room for hours while Arlo cries and mouths at one of his frozen teething rings. Last night had been particularly tough, baby Tylenol not helping for some reason, and Harry woke up with a crick in his neck from having it tilted back on the couch.

"He's doing a bit better. Stubborn thing was out this morning but it's gone back in which means..."

"It'll be back to haunt me tonight." Harry groans.

"I can take care of him so you can rest."

He shakes his head, scoffing. "Nonsense. S'our boy time." Y/n laughs at his excuse, thanking him for helping out but he blows it off. He's a parent too and he doesn't mind staying up late for his baby.

"Gotta get going love so m'not late," Harry says sadly, "don't think I'll be too long."

She hums. "Well we'll be here. Probably go for another walk unless you'd like to come with us?"

"S'fine love. Know it's good for you and the boys so don't wait on account of me."

She giggles again but it's cut off by the familiar wail of a baby just waking up from his nap. Harry frowns, picturing Arlo all warm and soft as he cries for someone to come snuggle him. "There he is," she sighs, "I'll see you later Harry. Have fun at lunch."

"I'll try. Love you darling."

He patiently waits for her response, listening to her shush Arlo as she undoubtedly picks him up from his play pen. "We love you too."

Anne is waiting outside the cafe, round framed sunglasses over her eyes and the sweater Gemma had gifted her for Christmas. Harry winces when he realizes he's a few minutes late but he doesn't feel bad about calling y/n so he won't feel bad about it making him late.

"Just come from the gym?" Anne asks him in greeting, smiling nervously. He nods, hair still damp from his shower and falling messily onto his forehead. He pushes it back, pulling open the door for her.

"Training more often than usual now. S'more competitive being a tournament and all."

Anne nods in understanding, and they silently find a booth to sit at. No words are spoken, at least not to each other, as they search the brunch menu and give their orders to the waitress that greets him. Harry can feel his heartbeat in his throat, swallowing nervously as he fiddles with his discarded straw wrapper. He invited Anne here, he reminds himself, so he should speak first.

"I used to be really fucked up," Harry finally says, eyes dropping to his fiddling fingers when Anne meets his gaze. He can't find it in himself to look at her right now. "sometimes I feel like I still am. I had been better, for a really long time actually. Met y/n, knew from the second I saw her that I couldn't lose her so I changed. Tried to. It took a lot, I had terrible habits for years before her.

"Couldn't go one night without a drink, fought almost every day because I had nothing else to do. I never even had a girlfriend before her, I used girls. I didn't want to get attached I guess-" Harry has to clear his throat, cheeks flushing in embarrassment at the way his voice cracks. The paper between his fingers crumbles but he continues to pull at it. "Her and I struggled so fucking much for months. I was paranoid, thought she was going to leave or hate me or something. Was too scared to stay the night with her in case I had a nightmare about dad or something-"

"Harry-"

"No!" Harry says gruffly, gaze snapping up harshly, "I need to say it. I need to say it all, yeah?"

Anne nods feebly, fingers playing with the sleeves of her sweater. "She found out about everything when I had a panic attack in the middle of the night. For some reason, she didn't mind. Didn't care that I was fucked up. And she was there, always. Didn't matter if the sight was pretty or not, she was always there.

"But we still fought. I'd get scared and shut down. So we decided that I'd go to therapy." Anne's bottom lip trembles and she reaches over the table, laying her palm over one of Harry's shaking hands. His eyes fall down to the fingers of his mother, rubbing soothingly over the ink on his skin as if she loves every bit of him, even the scars and marks. He takes a trembling breath.

"Thought I would hate it but it was really good. I talked about everything, about Jack and how he hurt you, about dad, about Gem leaving us. Talked about boxing, how much it means to me and how it brought me to y/n. It was really fucking nice to just talk, and it's helped. Don't go much anymore now that my anxiety is under control, but I think I have to go back."

She doesn't miss a beat. "Is it my fault?"

Harry nods, eyes still downcast. It’s not totally Anne’s fault but he knows the reason he’s so on edge all the time is because of her. He can't let it go, can't move on from that rejection no matter how hard he tries. He can't think of any other solution but going back to Dr. Wells.

"S'too hard to figure it out like this." He says with a sad shake of his head, "I feel like I can't talk to you, not really because you just stare at me and wait for Gemma to say something. And I don't even really know what to say. Can feel everything deep in my heart and on the tip of my tongue but I can't even tell you how much that day fucked me over.

"But the doctor I go to knows me and he knows what happened, so I think he'll know what to do."

They fall silent, hands retreating to their laps as the waitress delivers Harry's blueberry pancakes and Anne's omelette. He thanks her quietly, reaching for the syrup when his mother speaks up.

"I don't know what to say Harry," she murmurs "I have no excuses for what I did or what I put you through. I never should've let Jack in our lives and I never should made you leave mine.

"At the time it felt like it was right. I thought I needed him and I thought you'd be better off without us. You always were a bit different from Gemma and I, thought you'd be happy to have a life without us."

Harry's heart shudders, eyes welling with tears and he's not sure if they're out of anger or hurt or both. "Thought I'd be happy living on my mates couch? Not knowing if you were safe or if Gemma got into medical school? Not knowing if you-" He chokes on his words, angrily cutting into his stack of pancakes. His jaw aches from how tightly he's clenched it, and his knuckles are white around the fork in his hand.

"If I what Harry?"

If you loved me. He shakes his head, refusing to look at her. Her sigh is soft but loud enough for him to hear and he revels in the way it trembles. Maybe it's morbid, but he's glad she's feeling guilty or sad. It means something, means she at least somewhat cares.

Anne digs into her meal as Harry's swallowing his bite. He clears his throat, gaining her attention again. "A lot of shit happened, and we need to talk about it somewhere where I know I can actually talk so if you're up for it, I want ya to go see Dr. Wells with me."

He glances up at her, finding her wide eyes and shocked. "You think I should go to therapy?" His nod is firm. "That's the only place I'll be able to talk so if you want to fix this, to show that we can maybe be a family again this is your last chance."

She doesn't hesitate to agree and Harry can't help but feel relieved. Maybe she is here for the long haul. After a moment of them eating in silence, Harry says what's been running through his head since he saw his old house burnt to dust.

"Talking to a therapist might help you too," he says softly, continuing when she looks at him in confusion, "know what Jack did messed ya up. You've got some kinda trauma or PTSD from it, especially the fire. You should get help, it's worth it."

"How did you know?"

"That day with the smoke alarms," he says, "when you ran outside and didn't really think about y/n or Arlo. Fight or flight kicked in and you did what you're mind told you to do. After that night the house burned down it became habit to run."

Anne seems a bit surprised at his words, like she didn't ever expect him to pay that much attention to her or notice something like that. "You got all the fight in the family." She smiles weakly.

Harry shakes his head. He may be a boxer and punching maybe therapeutic to him, but he knows he's a flight person. After all the girls he's ran from, the times he tried to push y/n away and to hide from her proved it. "Believe it or not, m'not the fighter." He admits, knowing he's here today because y/n has always fought for him.

More time at the gym wasn't ideal, especially with y/n growing bigger and bigger every day. Four months down to the exact day until they're expecting the new baby and Harry hates having to spend four days a week with Liam. He knows it's for the best, the fights are only going to get harder as they go, but he wants to be there when y/n wakes up with sore feet, too tired to make her own breakfast. He's been taking Arlo with him in the mornings, letting him sleep in his car seat or hang out with Mark while Harry trains. Now that he's walking Mark takes him for laps around the ring or on the treadmill. It's never on because it's too fast for Arlo's legs but he loves climbing on there right after Harry's finished a run. That's one of the positive things; spending most mornings with his son, the second positive being Harry's excuse to leave y/n at home.

He was able to get her Valentine's day gift together without her knowing, saying he's staying late at the gym when him and Arlo are really running around to gather what they needed. Their new sleep schedule of being up at least an hour before y/n works good too, making it easy for him to slip out of bed without waking her. She stays curled up in the blankets, lips parted with soft snores that she only ever has when she's pregnant, and Harry gently peels a strand of hair away from her mouth before kissing her cheek.

Taking the baby monitor with him, he slips into the bathroom to brush his teeth and wash his face, tying his messy hair up in a pink scrunchie so it stays out of his face today. Quietly tip toeing to the closet, he throws on some black pants and a red tee-shirt as the beginning sounds of Arlo stirring come through the baby monitor. He's quick to get to Arlo's room, lifting him out of the crib just as he's blinking his bright eyes open. Arlo's still sleepy and docile while Harry changes him, leaving him in just his diaper until it's time to get dressed.

Face burrowed in Harry's chest, Arlo slips in and out of sleep as Harry moves around the kitchen to gather everything needed to make homemade cinnamon rolls. Y/n has been eating a lot of them lately, mostly the store bought ones but he knows she prefers homemade ones, and he figured today would be a good day to surprise her with them.

"Alright bug," Harry says after peeling Arlo off long enough to slip an apron on, "let's get cooking."

Harry's side of the bed is empty and cold when y/n reaches over for him, fingers aching to feel his warm skin. She pouts, eyes still fluttering with exhaustion but desperate for her husband, she forces herself to wake up and find him. Lucky for her, she's only managed to get up and pee, stepping out of the closet in Harry's purple bath robe when the man she's looking for comes through the doorway.

He's got a tray of cinnamon rolls and two glasses of milk balanced in his right hand, back hunched as he reaches down to hold Arlo's hand with the other. She freezes, eyes stinging with happy tears at the sight of them. Arlo's waddling alongside his daddy, hair messy under the heart topped antenna headband he's got balanced on his head. And instead of his pajamas (which are just his diaper), he's wearing a lady bug costume that's a little too big on him.

"Happy Valentine's day!" Harry cheers, beaming widely. He's got the same headband on his own head, the hearts flopping in opposite directions, and he's wearing a red that matches the shade of Arlo's costume.

"Hap mumma!" Arlo cheers, unable to finish the word happy let alone Valentine's day but the words still force tears down her cheeks. Harry sets the tray down on the dresser, scooping Arlo up. He rushes towards her, chuckling when she throws herself into his chest.

"Alright love bug," Harry says after pressing kisses to the top of her head, "give mumma her cuddles in bed okay?"

Arlo murmurs an agreement, happily switching to y/n's hold. She smiles brightly at the little boy in her arms, settling back into bed with him. He curls up into her side, laying his head on her belly as Harry brings over the tray of food and leans in for a kiss.

"I love you Harry," she sighs dreamily, cupping the side of his face. He grins, cheeks blossoming with pink and slots his mouth to hers again. "Love you too darling," he sits by her feet, resting the tray on his thighs, "now eat up so your love bugs can spoil you."

They enjoy breakfast together, y/n offering Arlo little bites of food and drinks of milk. He grumpily accepts the cup, but not until he's tugged at her clothes with eyes pleading for breast milk rather than cow. Harry snickers and mumbles proudly that "that's my boy," even if he has to scold him for trying to hit y/n again. That's become his go to response to being denied her breasts, one that Harry claims is understandable.

The grumpiness dissolves off of Arlo's face when Harry requests y/n move to the bathroom, sitting her on the counter by the sink. He insists on brushing her teeth for her and combing her hair, brushing Arlo's few teeth as well when he whines for the toothpaste, all the while the bath fills up with soapy water. Hair pulled up in a scrunchie that matches Harry's, she relaxes into the tub. Arlo stands next to the tub with Harry crouched next to him. She almost starts crying again when he fishes her feet out of the tub, massaging the tender soles of them. Arlo jabs at her other foot, tickling her more than massaging, and she giggles happily when Harry grumbles, "Put your back into it mate, mumma deserves the best!"

They rotate feet so that she gets equal tickling and massaging on each foot, and when she thinks she'll melt into the bubbles around her, Harry moves up to massage her shoulders and neck as well. "If you keep going I'm gonna fall back asleep."

"Go ahead love," Harry chuckles deeply, thumbs pressing into her spine, "can sleep all day if ya want."

The offer is tempting, but she feels like she hasn't seen either of her boys very much this past week so she shakes her head. "Want to spend time with my men today."

Arlo peeks over the bathtub at her words, headband slipping forward on his head. She gently pushes it back, smiling at him. "Yeah I'm talking about you." He gurgles happily, bouncing on his feet when she moves to climb out of the bath. Harry wraps her up in a big towel, lips leaving tender pecks to her face.

"Thank you Harry, you're the best husband."

"S'not over yet," He shrugs as if his thoughtfulness is nothing but his cheeks flush again. After wrapping her up in his robe again, Harry carries Arlo down the stairs and sits him on the couch. He's made a sheet fort for her, perfectly framing the tv where her favorite movie is queued up. Arlo gets antsy in his costume so she strips him down to his pamper, bringing him to her chest for snuggles. She ends up caving and breastfeeding him for a bit, Harry watching them with hearts in his eyes as he paints her toe nails and moisturizes her feet, slipping fluffy socks on them.

Her mind trails to her gift for him, stomach bubbling anxiously but she knows now is not the time for it. Harry's prepared a whole day of pampering for her so her gift can wait until tonight.

Y/n steals Harry's headband while he's washing up for bed, scrubbing his shirt because Arlo spit up food and milk all over it when he was putting him to bed, and when he finally drags his feet into the bedroom, he looks absolutely exhausted. His eyes are puffy and glazed, green seeming brighter than usual and he's got a tired little smile sinking his dimples into his cheeks. The scrunchie that once held his hair up now sits around his wrist, hair flopping onto his forehead when he collapses into the sheets next to her.

"Ya have a good day darling?" He slurs into the pillow, raising an eyebrow. She cards her fingers through his hair, heart swelling when he purrs contently.

"The best. Thank you."

Harry hums. "Love you so bloody much."

"I love you more." She giggles, and his grin widens.

"Was planning on shagging you through the mattress tonight but m'fucking tired." He snorts into the pillowcase, rolling onto his side when she leans down to kiss his cheek.

"There's always tomorrow baby," she reminds, "and the rest of our lives."

Harry's smirk widens even more, eyes gleaming. He reaches out for her hand, bringing the back of it up to his warm lips.

"Can I give you my gift now?"

He tries to remain bashful, but by the look in his eyes she knows he's been waiting to see what she's got him for Valentine's day. After he nods she reaches over to the bedside table, pulling the envelope out and handing it over to him. Harry eyes it curiously, rolling onto his back and wiggling a finger under the seal. Y/n chews on her bottom lip, hoping he's not upset or disappointed in it.

Harry slips the ivory paper out, brows furrowing as he reads over the words. She knows he's confused, knows he's trying to understand why she's gifted him a wedding invitation for them on the anniversary of their actual wedding. "Darling, I already married you."

She giggles, nodding. "I know you did. It was one of the best days of my life. But it was missing... pieces. Family."

Harry sits up, crossing his legs over each other and reaching out for her hand. "So you want to..."

"Renew our vows." She says firmly. "Here at the house. With my family and yours, and our boys."

The silence that follows make her shrink, shoulders hunching a bit and she's panicking before she can even see the tears in his eyes. "If you want! Don't have to! I just thought-"

Harry pinches her lips together between two fingers, cutting off her rambling. He chuckles lightly, pressing his lips to her puckered ones. "I fucking love it." He finally assures. "S'incredible. You're incredible. Can't believe you're doing this for me."

"Marrying you again?" She says, smiling sweetly. "Harry, I'd marry you any day."

He slots his mouth to hers again, dropping the slip of paper to the bed as he pushes her back to the mattress, body following until his knees are caging her in and his hips press into hers. "Making it hard to not fuck you right now."

Her grin is innocent, but her eyes are sinful. "Maybe you should just do it then?"

He grunts low in his throat, smashing their lips back together. He supposes he should take any chance he gets to fuck her on her back before her tummy grows too big so why not start now?

Her hands find a home in his hair, tangling into the curls at the base of his neck. Harry groans, chest rumbling and he's slipping his hand over her belly when a cry comes through the baby monitor. He's barely had a chance to huff in frustration before a swift kick is delivered to his palm.

"You've got to be kidding me," Harry mutters, glaring down at y/n's stomach. "Both of ya? Really? Lads are supposed to stick together!"

Y/n giggles at him, pecking his forehead softly. "Go ahead super dad. We'll be here."

#sweet as honey #harry styles #fanfic #fanfiction #fluff #harry styles au #dad harry styles #daddy harry #daddy harry styles #boxer harry styles #husband harry styles #husband harry #one direction

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jetsetlife138 · 5 years

Note

Are you still accepting prompts/requests? Could I get #74 or #75 with Alastor x fem reader if you are? Please and thank you in advance :)

Whew! Sorry this took so long! I just kept rambling on, haha. I hope that it’s enjoyable nonetheless! Cheers! xo

74) “Stop looking at me like that.” “Like what?” “Like you wanna fuck me and kill me at the same time.”

75) “Touch her again and I’ll rip your heart out through your fucking mouth.��

Pairing: Alastor x Fem!Reader

Rating: Mature

You just wanted a drink. After the day you had of being Katie Killjoy’s bitch at the 666 News, you were utterly exhausted, both mentally and physically. Being her assistant was your eternal punishment, and it was a fate worse than death.

The sound of the glass hitting the counter as the bartender set the much-needed shot down in front of you drew your attention. Raising the shot to your lips, you toasted the bartender before downing the dark brown liquid that left behind a delicious burn in your throat on the way down.

Lifting your hand, you subtly asked for another, to which the bartender nodded with an understanding grin.

You downed the next shot, shaking your head at the bartender when he glanced back at you, silently checking to see if you wanted another.

You sighed, turning your back to the bar and surveying the scene. The bar was packed with the usual obnoxious crowd. All of them were repugnant and not worth the time of day to strike up a conversation with. Not to say that you thought too highly of yourself, but if you had to choose between forcing yourself to bear the company of one of those fools, or keep to yourself, you always chose the latter.

Too caught up in your own thoughts, you hardly noticed a fiendish character approach you, taking a seat beside you, and leaning in too close for comfort. “Hey there, gorgeous. What’s a morsel like you doing over here all by yourself?”

Ignoring your signals that repelled men like him, he placed a hand on your thigh, waiting for an answer. Usually, you would smack it away, but your mind was hazy and your body was compliant due to the effects of the alcohol.

His hand continued to smooth over your thigh as you eyed him with disdain. “Remove your hand, please,” you asked nicely, finally coming to your senses.

He frowned. “Oh, come on, baby. Don’t be like that. I just want to show you a good time.”

You pushed his hand away, glaring at him. “I’m not interested. Please, leave me alone.”

For a moment, the masculine creature looked angry before he smoothed his expression over and made the motion to return his hand to it’s previous placement on your thigh, ready to sweet talk you into allowing him to stay, until a very noticeable and unnatural chill swept over you both.

The man stopped in his tracks as a dark void seemed to sweep across the entirety of the bar, over the walls, floor, and the patrons, narrowing in on the two of you.

It was then that you saw him next to you, morphing into a physical being rather than the shadow from which he had formed.

The Radio Demon.

The demon whose very name brought panic and dread to those unfortunate enough to know of his reputation. His back was arched forward, poised to lunge as his crimson eyes pierced through the dark room, glaring directly at the man next to you, who was practically choking on his own breath at the very sight of the terrifying demon.

The unwelcome bar patron who couldn’t take a hint took a moment to collect himself before straightening his posture and closing his mouth, which had fallen agape due to the initial shock of the Radio Demon’s appearance. “Uhm,” he stammered, clearing his throat uncomfortably. “I-Is there s-something that I can h-help you w-with, Mr. Radio Demon, s-sir?”

The tall figure leaned in even closer to address his trembling inferior, showing off his mouth full of sharp, dagger teeth in an unsettling grin. “Touch her again and I’ll rip your heart out through your fucking mouth.”

The man looked tack aback, creasing his brow in disbelief as he acted on instinct, immediately beginning to defend himself against the alpha male. “Excuse me? Listen, I just--”

The Radio Demon’s patience had snapped as he lunged forward, his already terrifying fangs now becoming several rows of fine needles as his jaw unhinged to an unnatural length, the cracks of his bones popping out of place loud enough to echo across the bar. His once round pupils were now threatening slits that could burn a hole through one’s soul. The claws at the end of his fingertips extended, shredding his gloves in the process. Suddenly, from beneath the flirtatious man appeared a void where black tentacles emerged, surrounding the terrified creature who cowered beneath the harrowing stare of the reputable demon.

“Get out of my sight,” he warned one last time, the static in his voice producing a painful feedback over his barely unintelligible monstrous tone that crawled up from deep within his chest.

Without allowing even another second to pass by, the man scrambled out of his seat, tripping over the tentacles as he rushed out of the bar through a path that had been cleared for him by the remaining patrons who were awestruck by the scene.

Returning to his former appearance, the Radio Demon turned to address the onlookers. “This is a social gathering, not a picture show for your entertainment,” he snapped. “Go about your business.”

Too afraid to argue, everyone turned their attention away from him, muttering among themselves over what they had just witnessed.

Taking the newly vacant seat beside you, the demon silently requested your hand, to which you hesitantly granted, placing your trembling palm gently in his own. Enclosing his fingers around yours, he brought the back of your hand to his lips as he kissed it lightly, smirking at you with his crimson orbs. “The name is Alastor, dear. I must apologize for that aggressive display, but I could sense your discomfort and wanted to assist you in ridding yourself of that unpleasant company.”

“Uh… thank you… sir,” you added, earning a smirk from the demon. Grabbing your purse, you turned to leave. “I should, um… I should go.”

“Stay,” he warned, his eyes flashing. “Please, if you would be so kind as to keep me company, I would be in your debt. As I’m sure you can imagine, it’s difficult for me to make friends, and you seem like a delight.”

Narrowing your eyes at him, you countered skeptically, “You don’t even know me. I could be a complete bitch and a bore to be around.”

Pausing for a moment to allow his crimson gaze to take in your form, he snickered. “I doubt that.”

You exhaled a nervous laugh. “Uh- yeah. Anyway, thanks for ridding me of… unwanted company.” Your face flushed as your words sounded odd coming out of your mouth. Even though you seemed to be speaking coherently, your words sounded awkward to you, but his presence had you tongue-tied.

“So, dearest… what brings you here?” Alastor asked, his fanged smile beginning to creep into a smirk, and your stomach dipped.

“I just got off of work,” you replied, gripping the edge of the bar and breathing slowly to try and calm yourself. “I-I’m Katie Killjoy’s assistant for the… um... 666 News.”

He remained silent for a moment, his gaze holding you captive as you struggled to remember how to inhale and exhale normally. “You’re afraid of me.” It was just a statement; simple and true.

“Of course I am,” you reply breathlessly, chest still heaving.

His head tilted with curiosity for a moment before he turned to the bartender, signaling him in a silent request for drinks. The bartender swiftly prepared two glasses of what you had recognized as an Old Fashioned.

Sliding them down the bar, Alastor winked at him before placing a glass before you. “Drink,” he demanded, to which you immediately complied with, taking a deep swig.

Your heart was still pounding against your chest even though your breathing had slowed. “I’m not going to hurt you,” he assured you before taking a sip of his own drink. “I am simply here for a chat. That’s all.”

Finding some liquid courage from the prior shots and the strong drink, you snapped, “Stop looking at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like you wanna fuck me and kill me at the same time,” you swallow through a parched throat.

“Ha! My, that’s abrasive,” Alastor chuckled, “I said I wouldn’t hurt you, and I’m proving that to you. Nothing to be afraid of.”

You gauged him with a skeptical glare. “Why are you even talking to me? You don’t like interacting with others, especially not in a romantic capacity…” Or so you’ve heard among the many rumors that had circulated, making you feel safe in the certainty of that knowledge.

“Except when I do,” he confided, his smile stretching even further up his cheeks to bare his fangs at your menacingly. “And I find your company to be very appeasing.”

“What… um… why did you single me out?” The tremor in your voice is obvious, but you don’t bother to try and mask it at this point.

He waited several beats before answering. “Darling, think of this as an experiment.” His head tilts again as he waits for a reaction. When you fail to indulge him, he continues. “You see, I’ve lacked inspiration for decades. My work has become… untamed, lacking focus - aimless, if you will. I’ve come to crave a new form of entertainment.” “Excuse me?” You feel your cheeks heat with anger as it begins to dilute the fear. “Am I understanding this correctly? You think I’m just a damned experiment solely for your entertainment?”

His wicked smile doesn’t falter as he inspects you once again. “You will not be a casualty, if that is your concern.”

Chest tightening in rising panic, you struggled to find words. “That’s not… I won’t… what?”

Your built-up courage quickly deflated as he leaned in closer to you, a determined gleam in his eye.

“Relax, my dear,” he urged, his voice low and smooth. “The fun is just beginning.”

#prompt request #alastor #hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin alastor #alastor x reader #alastor x you #hazbin hotel

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henry-cavill-baby · 4 years

Text

To Study (Insects) │3

Pairing: Clark Kent (MoS) x Original Female Character

Warning: Shitty Parents, Fluff

Word Count: 3k~

Summary: Clark and Connie; 18 and Graduation.

A/N: Just Enjoy!

Pomp and Circumstance blares through the stadium grade speakers as the high school seniors walk in a steady line across the green football field, each gracefully taking a seat in the white lined chairs as gusts of light wind nearly blow off more than a few white caps.

The graduating class of 98’ consisted of 79 students, almost all of the girls donning a pair of wedged sandals, seeing as a pointed heel would’ve slid right into the grass, and almost all of the boys wearing obnoxiously colored sneakers.

Principal Johnson tapped the mic that was strapped to the brown podium and cleared his throat, “Fellow Graduates; It is my greatest pleasure to see you off into the world, and knowing that all of you will make the world a better place. Hardships, and tough times tried to keep you down, but you all strode for success… and look where you are.”

Claps echoed the stands as proud parents rooted and hollered for their children.

“I am with deep certainty that each and every one of you fine adults will go off from this school, and follow the dreams you’ve spent years creating. Some of you will go to college, actually, I hope more than some,” he joked.

“And others may travel the world and see all of what it has to offer. And well, I know there are some of you out there who still haven’t the slightest idea on who they want to be. And that’s okay!”

A ripple of chuckles went through the class of graduates, “You don’t have to know what you want to do; you just have to be willing to try. All of you have the will to achieve greatness.”

“You are not defined by the person you used to be, or even the person you will become, but by your actions and how you impact the world.”

The band started up again and the graduates clapped and hollered for the Principal. “Congratulations Class of 98’!”

All of the students leapt up and tossed their caps into the sky, friends hugging one another in celebration and utter happiness. Connie had just stood up when two strong arms slipped around her waist and lifted her sky high, eliciting a yelp of surprise.

The grip was strong and the biceps she reached down to grasp could only belong to one overly muscled but still baby faced country boy.

“Clark!” Her yelp went unheard as he boisterously laughed and started to make his way out of the crowd of overzealous students, dodging the people engaged in bro fives and girls with running make-up and sobbing over friends. His hands felt warm and large on her stomach. It was like being held by a teddy bear.

From this height above the rest of the crowd, the figures of Martha and Jonathon Kent were easy to spot, and Connie failed to stifle a giggle and the arms holding her sped up in a bumpy jog.

It was more than difficult to keep her hair from flying all over the place as she bobbled along. He could be like an overgrown puppy at times.

“Guys!” Martha yelled, “Over here!"

Clark stopped short in front of his parents. A grunt left his clenched lips as he set Connie back onto her two-inch wedges. There was no time for her to enjoy being regular height, or say a grateful ‘hello’ to either Kent.

The thick forearm of Clark slipped around her cushy waist like a slippery serpent.

The smiling face of Martha warmed her heart, “Look at you two,” and her voice was as warm as an apple eye. Being around Martha used to make Connie crave her own motherly affection, but by now, Martha was the best she was going to get.

“Thanks for coming, you two,” Connie gushed. Her own arm wiggled from the space between her and Clark’s body, eventually slithering to cup his waist. They looked like the perfect couple.

“Please, we wouldn’t miss this for the world,” Martha insisted. Reaching into her mint green purse she pulled out a handheld camera. The two graduates groaned, but only Clark spoke up.

“Really, Mom?”

Martha waved him off, “Oh, hush up, Clark. Your mother only sees her babies graduate once, and if that means a few pictures, then you’ll be smiling for every one. Now, get closer you two.”

Any closer and they’d never come apart.

The flash of the camera shined in their eyes, and it was over as quick as it started. Connie smiled until it hurt, and tried to keep any redness from her cheeks as the hand on her back started to rub in a slow circle. Warmth blossomed in her lower back, and god, she could practically taste Clark’s mischievous smile. He knew exactly what he was doing.

“So, are you two up for some brunch?” Martha asked. “Or if you’d like, I could make us something at home.”

Connie bit the inside of her cheek; it was such a bad time to bring it up.

They were all enjoying each other’s company; they didn’t need her to bring up the family drama that lurked at her home. But it was better to get it done with than avoid it any longer.

“Actually,” She interjected, slightly moving away from Clark’s warmth. “I wanted to ask if you’d run me by my place. I promised my dad I’d drop by after graduation. You know; show him the diploma and all. It’ll just take a few minutes.”

The three Kent’s were silent for a few seconds.

“Are you sure about that, Connie?” Jonathon coaxed with a raised brow.

She could taste the questioning worry in his voice, but brushed it off and nodded with a thin-lipped smile.

“Yeah, I think he’ll be happy to see me. Its…” she thought for a moment.

“It’s been a while.”

The ride away from the High School was tenser than fly trapped in a spider’s web. Martha and Jonathon sat in the front while Clark sat in the back next to Connie.

There was nothing playing on the radio, and all the windows were up. Her hand rested on the middle seat, fingers strumming an irregular beat. Normally, Clark’s hand would intertwine with hers, but his were straining in a tight grip against his thigh.

The tightness of his jaw ripped at her soul. It was no mystery that Clark hated—no, despised Walter Mayfield. Maybe, an emotion deeper than she understood, something darker than disgust and rage connected Clark and Walter. She breathed in deep, trying to find the courage to reach over and hold his hand. But it never happened.

The Mayfield farm was more decrepit than any of them remembered.

Jonathon turned off the car and turned in his seat. “Do you want me to come in with you?” He offered.

It was tempting but she shook her head and undid the old leather seatbelt. It was hard for her to ignore the way Clark was visibly holding himself back from saying anything, and turning the car handle seemed to hurt worse than a third degree burn.

“I’ll only be a second,” she promised, shutting the door and moving away from the car.

The air smelt dry; drier than the dirt under her wedges. It was thick and felt like it could clog her throat if she breathed it too long. The shining sun blinded her eyes and she kept her head down on the trek to the front door—taking no mind to the even creakier porch steps and missing rocking chair.

The brown door seemed scarier now than ever before. She had no house key; there was no point to having access to somewhere you didn’t live anymore.

Her knuckles rapped against the aged wood with the hand not gripping the diploma, teeth gnawing into her bottom lip as seconds passed.

A crash echoed inside the house and Connie readied herself as the lock turned from the other side. It’s now or never, she thought, standing straight with her head held high.

The door was lurched open with a gust of air, and her eyes widened at the sight of her Walter Mayfield. Time hadn’t been kind to him, and neither had the glass bottles littering the floor. Dirty blonde hair, missing teeth and the look of a crazed man were what any regular person would have seen; but she just saw her dad.

“Hi, Dad.”

His left eye twitched something ferocious.

“Connie.”

His voice had become rougher than gravel; probably smoked twice as much as he drank. Dirt caked his fingernails and a dried redness smattered the inside of his elbow. He was the picture of being at the bottom, and Connie instantly hated herself for ever coming back here. This was a mistake, she said to herself.

“I finished high school, Dad.” She held up the white diploma for a split second, watching his eyes follow its movement—up and down, “I—I thought you’d want to know.”

Silence hung between the two Mayfield’s; Connie holding her breathe with trepidation, and Walter staring silently. Neither had moved from their positions on the porch, and all three Kent’s were watching from the car window. Just in case Walter tried something.

It wouldn’t be the first time.

“Aren’t you going to say anything to me, Dad?” she tried to coax an answer from the man she’d once called her father. But he hadn’t been a man in a long time, or ever really. Trying to see past his shoulders into the run down house was the last thing she wanted to do.

Too many memories—bad ones mostly—lied inside those molded walls.

Then finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Walter opened his mouth.

“Go ‘way, Connie.”

And he shut the door in her face, the slam echoing through her head long after he’d walked away from the last piece of living flesh he had. Hiccups tried to take home in her throat, and a river tried to flow from her honey pot eyes.

Was there any timeline that she’d imagined where he’d welcomed her with open arms? What lie had made her believe he’d be happy to see her? It was always going to go like these… and yet, it hurt so much worse.

Warm arms—and the scent of chopped wood and the freshness of dewy wet grass on an early warm sunrise—roamed the air around her clouded mind. It was soothing and sweet, to be in the arms of Clark. He enveloped her in his bear like arms and held her close.

It was a space she never wanted to leave. His clean-shaven face found home in the soft sweetness of her neck, and a solemn kiss found her skin. His lips could chase away any demons.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled into her skin, nose rubbing against her warmth.

They stayed that way for only a few seconds and Clark gingerly turned and led them back to the truck. Each step felt like carrying pounds of cement, but with Clark around, she would never fall.

His strong hands sat her inside the truck and shut the door, running around to hop in himself, grateful to leave behind the Mayfield farm in a cloud of dust.

It was nearing 9, and Clark was already upstairs waiting in his pajamas when Jonathon rested against the doorway of the kitchen, eyes watching Connie.

His presence visibly scared her, and she jumped—clutching her heart.

“Jesus, you scared the daylights out of me.” Her hip leisurely shut the fridge, two pieces of blueberry pie topped with smooth whipped cream jammed onto one plate.

“Did you need something? Clark and I were going to watch some movies till one of us passed out.”

A beat of silence passed between them, Jonathon eventually clearing his throat. “I’m sorry about your dad.”

“Oh.” That hadn’t been what she’d expected to hear.

“It’s alright, really. I—I should’ve expected it.” The pie plate dinged as she rested it on the cloth-covered table. “I think it would’ve been weird if he wasn’t like that. It takes a lot for people to change, and I just—I wanted…”

“He may not show it, but I bet he’s proud to have a daughter like you.” Jonathon interjected. “Martha and I sometimes wish you’d been ours.”

“I don’t think it would be in my best interest to be Clark’s sister.”

They both let out a breathy laugh. The whipped cream on the chilled pie was starting to run onto the plate.

“There’s something I want to show you.” Jonathon said, stepping from the wall and making his way to the backdoor. “It’s been a long time coming, and there’s no better time than the present."

“O—Okay?” she slowly muttered. “Is this the Kent dead body that you guys keep tied up in the barn?”

He turned and raised a solid brow, urging her to follow him outside. She tried not to think of where they were going; there was no way this could be anything bad.

This was Clark’s dad; he was the nicest man in town. But as they stalked along the shortly trimmed grass, and the cold chill set into her bare feet, the possibilities flew through her mind.

The thumbnail of her left hand was bitten particularly hard as Jonathon Kent pried open the barn doors, the smell of hay and obstructing her senses.

Her eyes closed as clouds of dust rushed into the air—no ones cleaned this place in ages—and opened to watch Jonathon reach up for rope hanging from the ceiling.

She gingerly stepped onto the wooden floor and tried not to shiver; it was freezing. Her eyes followed the rope, hands tugging to open to floorboards just in front of them.

“What’s down there?” she asked shakily, a sense of slight… it wasn’t fear, but a crossbreed between dread and nervousness. They didn’t actually have a dead body, right?

“What?”

“This—“ his finger pointed at the space hidden under the barn, “—is what we found Clark in. He was just a baby with a set of lungs that wouldn’t stop crying unless Martha held him.”

Connie still couldn’t really understand what she was seeing, or what he was saying.

Out of all the things that the Kent’s were hiding—every little town had families with secrets—but the secret being that Clark was from space was a little out there.

“So… Clark isn’t Martha’s?” She looked at Jonathan. “And you two found him in this, 18 years ago?”

He nodded with the most serious face she’d ever seen, but the words spilled out like a floodgate, “I’m not saying I don’t believe you, but you have to know how this sounds. Right?”

“It’s why we’ve never told anyone.” He explained, wiping a hand down his withered face. “We kept this from Clark for most of his life. Martha and I never wanted him to know about where he comes from, but then the accidents started piling up. We didn’t have a choice.”

“You two did your best to protect Clark.” She sympathized.

He stepped down into the hole, and Connie quickly followed. Hey eyes took in the glossy ship, and she found herself reaching forward and placing her palm against the sleek metal. It was cool and smooth, and her palm leisurely moved along to the more patterned area, feeling the bumps and grooves.

It could’ve easily been mistaken for some type of rare metal, but a part of her was starting to believe that this was a spaceship.

“You’ve kept a spacecraft under your barn for 18 years…” she gulped, “And Clark is…”

For some strange reason—in some deep corner of her brain—this wasn’t that crazy. It wasn’t like Clark hadn’t been different from the other kids from an early age, why he seemed to be bigger and stronger than every other kid in their graduating class.

How he pulled a bus from a river.

“Clark’s an alien.” She whispered into the air, nodding at Jonathon with wide eyes. Her lungs blew out all of their air. “Clark is an alien.”

“Please don’t hold this against him.” Jonathon added. “He wanted to tell you the second I showed this to him, but I told him he couldn’t.”

Her scoff nearly cut him off, “I don’t think I would’ve handled it as well as he did.”

“But you are now.” He grinned.

“Because I lo—“

Because I love him

“I love him, Mr. Kent.” Her hand retreated from the aircraft, and she stepped away. “And nothing can change that.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever been more certain about anything in my life, and that is that I love Clark, and this—“ she longed to hold Clark in her arms, “—only makes me want to protect him more.”

The silence of night stood between them.

Her words shone brighter than a sunset on a summer’s day, and Jonathon found an itch of smile forming on his face. They both stared at the tiny ship, but Connie dared to reach forward and finger a gleaming piece of metal.

It was freezing cold to the touch, but as smooth as polished silver. It was shaped like a stake that punctured dry soil, but the top had a strange symbol. It easily popped off of the exterior of the ship.

It looked like an S.

She held it up to the moonlight, “Do you know what it means?”

But he shrugged his shoulders and pulled the lever to lower the barn floor hatch, both of them climbing out to watch the floor close up again. “It was in there with Clark, so I’m guessing he’d have a better idea than me.”

“How much does he know about where he comes from?”

Jonathon turned back and stared as she rubbed the black tool in between her fingertips. Something felt right about letting her have it.

He nodded to the barn door with a grin, “Why don’t you ask him yourself?”

A beaming smile stretched across her face and she tore through the barn, uncaring of the hay digging into the soles of her feet.

The doors flew open with a gust of chilly wind, and heaving breaths winded her chest and she looked across the grassy path.

Clark

He hadn’t changed out of his pajamas—his bare feet stuck in the freezing grass while his hands wrung at his sides. The moonlight shined on the space between them, and she ran towards the sea, thrown into its arms and enveloped in its soothing blue. His arms enveloped her like a blanket, tugging her up and off the grass, holding her close.

It truly was the best feeling in the world, to be in Clark Kent’s arms. It was warmer than you’d imagine, it felt safer than you could dare to dream, and it felt like home.

He gently set her back on the ground, still keeping her close, “Seeing as you’re not running for the hills, I’m going to assume you’re taking your best friend being an alien pretty well.”

Best friend, her rational mind snarled, Lies.

“I mean, I’ll admit, for a moment there I was planning to call the feds and demand a place on their alien tasks unit.” She explained with a giggle, snuggling into his arms with a sigh. His warmth chased away the cold.

“Every single time I pictured telling you about this part of my life,” he reminisced, “It never once went like this.”

Her crown rubbed against his soft chest, humming lightly. “And exactly how had you pictured it?”

“I’d imagined there being a lot more screaming.” A nod to the cornfield, “And I’m glad you aren’t trying to run away. I’d hate to have to chase you down.”

A flare of challenge erupted in her gut, and she pulled back to raise a brow at him, “Is that a challenge, farm boy?”

It would’ve been fruitless to try and escape his arms, and besides, getting smacked in the face with corn was not ideal.

They stared at one another, and their hearts beat in sync.

There was no fear in her soul—her heart—and there was no doubt that this was the same Clark that pulled her from a watery grave, that held her on sleepless nights and whispered sweet words, that gave her a home and a family to call her own. She was his world, but he was hers too.

“I can hear your heartbeat.” Clark confessed as his hands rubbed her soft hips.

“It’s faster when you’re nervous and softer when you sleep.”

His hands rubbed her shoulders, “When I was first learning to control my senses, Mom told me to make the world small, to find something to ground myself.”

“The sound of your heart helped me hone my senses.” He picked up her chin and gazed into her eyes, “You helped me.”

“I—I didn’t know, Clark.” The right words seemed lost for her, “If I’d known, I would’ve done anything to help you.”

“But you did,” he cut her off, thumb rubbing the cheek under his palm. “You’ve always been there for me, Connie, and I love you.”

“I’ve always loved you, Clark.” She squeezed his tighter, “And not even being a freaky alien baby can change that.”

A squeal of laughter erupted from her throat as Clark lifted her over his shoulder with ease and bolted into the house, laughter echoing across the farm.

Chapter 4 coming soon!

#clark kent henry cavill #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill #henry cavill imagines #clark kent x oc #clark kent fanfiction #clark kent imagines #clark kent #man of steel #dc fanfiction #batman v supeman: dawn of justice #superman #superman fanfiction

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kurowrites · 4 years

Text

That Cursed Broken Heart - Chapter 6

Previous parts. AO3.

I guess this is the final part...

---

“Lan Zhan, will you stop pouting already?”

“Am not,” Lan Zhan insists, but it’s said so sulkily that Wei Ying cannot help but laugh and bump their shoulders together in mirth.

“You are! You are soooo grumpy right now. It’s not like I said I’ll never do it.”

Lan Zhan sighs and uses Wei Ying’s hand in his as leverage to pull Wei Ying back to his side as Wei Ying moves away.

They’ve been walking through this park, looking at the blossoming flowers for about thirty minutes now. It’s a popular spot at this time of the year; the park is renowned for its scenic views and well-maintained flower garden. But while they enjoy the sunlight and the lovely smell of flowers, they ignore the other visitors and are mostly absorbed in their own little world, discussing the future of their relationship.

Lan Zhan has been very insistent on going on regular dates, making plans to go to different restaurants and museums and parks; all the places he knows Wei Ying likes. Even the ones Lan Zhan himself doesn’t particularly like – at which point Wei Ying had to tell him that this works both ways, and bought tickets to a concert he never would’ve gone to on his own. It reminds Wei Ying a lot of the dates they went on when they first started dating in university, which is simultaneously very cute and extremely nerve-wracking. It makes Wei Ying think of the past, and all the things the future might bring.

Unlike their university-era counterparts, they are discussing the future of their relationship now. Today, the discussion has turned towards a topic that’s quickly becoming their favourite: Moving in together. Lan Zhan is very much in favour of it. Wei Ying… Wei Ying is nervous about it.

Now that he knows how seriously Lan Zhan takes this relationship, he knows what it means when they move in together. It won’t just be about staying together. It will be a first commitment on their path to marriage. Lan Zhan doesn’t say so, not in words, and he also never makes marriage a condition of their continued relationship, but Wei Ying knows now that it is what Lan Zhan ultimately wishes for. What he hopes Wei Ying will wish for too, one day.

Wei Ying doesn’t have any concerns about getting married as such. Oh no, quite to the contrary. The sheer thought of getting married to Lan Zhan, having Lan Zhan committed to him for the rest of their lives, it makes him all shivery and excited. To think that he would be the one that gets to keep Lan Zhan forever – oh, he can’t bear the thought! It’s too much! He might not make it to the actual marriage ceremony because the excitement will probably get him before that. The thought of marrying Lan Zhan makes him want to die because he simply cannot contain all these feelings in his body. He’s going to burst, and it will be ugly.

But there’s more to be considered than idle daydreams of sharing a marriage bed and eating breakfast together for the rest of their lives. If he commits to Lan Zhan fully, if he moves in with him, he needs to be sure that this is it. That he won’t fall back into old patterns of behaviour, and that he too can provide for Lan Zhan. That their relationship is solid before they take that next step.

If he moved in only for it to end in disaster, he couldn’t take that. So he wants to keep living on his own for a little longer. Get his sea legs first, so to speak.

“Is it my uncle?” Lan Zhan asks quietly. “I know he was not entirely welcoming to you. I have talked to him many times. He knows I will not give you up. He has given me his word not to interfere again.”

That makes Wei Ying sigh, too. Facing Lan Qiren had been… not high on his list of priorities. But Lan Zhan insisted on a talk, determined to resolve the issue once and for all. And then proceeded to basically strong-arm Lan Qiren into giving his consent and support for their relationship. Wei Ying has to confess, he still starts giggling whenever he thinks about how quickly Lan Qiren caved when Lan Zhan bluntly leveraged his potential grandchildren. Apparently, Wei Ying is less of an evil than the certainty of never having grandchildren (blood-related or not). And so, Lan Qiren gave his blessing – reluctantly and not very graciously, but he gave it. Wei Ying and Lan Zhan are officially a couple again, but now with the label ‘SERIOUS’ attached in big letters.

(Oh, how pissed Jiang Cheng is about that. He is still trying to escape from the well-meaning matchmaking attempts of his aunties and he is not happy.)

They are on the same page, this time. But…

“No. Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying says. “I won’t say your uncle isn’t… uh. Well. You know. But… we probably should give it some time. After all that has happened.”

Lan Zhan is silent for a moment, clearly processing Wei Ying’s words.

“Is it so wrong to want to wake up next to you as often as I can?”

Wei Ying stumbles, but Lan Zhan’s free hand is already there, keeping him upright.

“Lan Zhan!” Wei Yin exclaims. “You can’t just say things like that! It’s dangerous!”

Instead of answering, Lan Zhan reels him in and presses a kiss to his forehead. Wei Ying closes his eyes. It’s nice to have Lan Zhan so close, once again. His warmth, his smell, his gentle gestures. The way Wei Ying feels when Lan Zhan holds him. Wei Ying missed it all so much.

“We lost a lot of time,” Lan Zhan replies. “You cannot blame me for wanting to be selfish for once.”

He presses Wei Ying tightly to his side and begins walking again, staring off somewhere into the distance, the beauty of the flowers around him lost to his eyes. Wei Ying waits silently, because he gets the feeling that Lan Zhan is trying to say something.

“When you left, I thought it was right for me to practice self-denial,” Lan Zhan starts. “That it was… noble. Now that you are here, now that I know how you felt when you left, I regret it. I do not want to lose you again. We do not know how much time we have been given. I cannot help but feel… impatient.”

Wei Ying feels himself break out into a smile. He lets his head drop onto Lan Zhan’s shoulder, feeling light and happy.

“Lan Zhan, ah, Lan Zhan,” he sighs. “If you keep this up, you will soon be rid of me. My heart can’t take it. Do you really want to kill your husband before you manage to actually marry him?”

“Nn,” says Lan Zhan, and squeezes Wei Ying tight.

Wei Ying laughs. “You see, not ideal. However, since I’m a very smart man and also a considerate boyfriend, I suggest… a compromise.” He grins up at Lan Zhan, a little proud of himself. “I will keep my current apartment and keep living there… but I’ll stay with you during the weekends. How do you like that, Lan Zhan? You can ply me with food and lazy mornings, and maybe one day I’ll decide I don’t reaaaally want to go home, and–”

He doesn’t get any further than that, because Lan Zhan reels him in and kisses him enthusiastically, not caring about the audience around them. Wei Ying is fine with that. He’s really, really fine with Lan Zhan’s enthusiastic response to Wei Ying’s hint that he’s willing to work on the idea of moving in together, and he’s really, really, really fine with Lan Zhan’s determined focus on convincing Wei Ying that this relationship is worth it.

He feels a little bad about making someone as calm and collected as Lan Zhan feel impatient and out of control. After all, it’s Wei Ying that caused it. But it’s also a huge relief for Wei Ying – to know that Lan Zhan has no doubts about being with Wei Ying. That he wants it, even if he has to work for it. That he wants to stay with Wei Ying. Forever, preferably. It’s a huge weight off Wei Ying’s shoulders, to be able to depend on Lan Zhan’s feelings so much.

He wants to be able to give Lan Zhan the same sense of security. He hopes that day will come soon.

“Mmmh, Lan Zhan,” he murmurs against Lan Zhan’s lips, once Lan Zhan lets him breathe again. “I want breakfast in bed. Do you think I deserve some breakfast in bed? Because I think I do.”

There’s a certain glint in Lan Zhan’s eyes that sparks something deep in Wei Ying’s belly, something hot and electrifying. He knows that look. Has craved for that look to return.

And he knows that Lan Zhan will probably convince him to move in full-time before long.

He doesn’t think he’ll mind losing that battle.

“Take me home,” he says, placing another hot kiss on Lan Zhan’s lips, on his cheeks. “I think I’ve had enough of parks and flowers for today.”

He reaches out and traces Lan Zhan’s cheekbone with his finger.

“I just want a cup of tea, and Lan Zhan all to myself. I guess it’s fine, to be selfish for once.”

The next moment, he’s whisked away, before he even has time to laugh.

---

The next morning, a key appears among Wei Ying’s things.

On the keychain is a metal figure of a white rabbit, sitting patiently.

(Wei Ying isn’t going to give that one back.)

#kuro writes #the untamed #wei wuxian #lan wangji #wangxian #mdzs #broken heart fic

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kookoobeans · 4 years

Text

Surprise surprise // Lucien

Genre: Fluff

Word count: 1,904

Summary: It's Lucien's birthday and you decided to surprise your handsome prince.

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

Lucien's birthday is coming up so you decided to plan a surprise for him. You told the head of the orphanage he always visits with you your plan to which she agrees right away. After all, Lucien is the kids' favorite person and celebration the professor's special day together is a great idea. You want it to be perfect that you practically spend your breaks planning. Even Anna, Kiki, Minor and Willow help you from the beginning to end since you're also busy with the company. The day is going fast and it's actually a trouble hiding this to Lucien because your man is a smartass that he catches up easily on you. Always asking you questions which almost had you spilling the beans. Luckily, he's still clueless or so you hope. Soon enough the day finally came. You woke up early only to see the spot beside you empty. The covers are cold letting you know that it has been empty for a while now. You get up and walk to the living room to see Lucien reading. Slowly, you walk up behind him and wrap him in a tight back hug. He stops reading, put down his book and holds your hands.

“Hey, why are you up this early?” he asks you rubbing circles in your hand. You nuzzle your head in his neck.

“I should be the one asking you that.” He chuckles at your response. He faces you and kiss your forehead.

“I’m always up this early but it’s quite strange for you to be awake at this hour.” He said smiling as gentle as his hold on you.

“Well since its both our day off today. I was planning to ask you to go out with me so begone to the bathroom and change.” Its not actually your day off today, you just took a leave after finishing everything in advance. Victor was surprised that you report to him quite early and not days late this time.

“Is that your way of asking me on a date? I believe I should be the one doing that.” He said but still get up and drag you along.

“If you thinks it’s a date, then date it is. Besides, I can ask you on a date if I want to you know. Go ahead. Off you go!” you push a laughing Lucien in the bathroom. When you're sure that he can't hear you anymore, you dialed Kiki's number to check up on things. Hearing the bathroom door opens, you hang up without saying goodbye.

“You done? Wait for me in the living room. I'll be quick.” You didn't give him time to respond as you rush to the bathroom to groom yourself. When you come out, he was sipping tea. He rise up when he saw you.

“Shall we?” offering you his hand, you went out and make your way to the orphanage. He did ask you about your destination but you insist it's a secret. As you arrive at the orphanage, you can see Lucien being confused but didn't say a word. No one was around when you arrive which makes the place so quiet. You enter the garden and sit on a nearby bench.

“I’ll just go look for someone. I'll be quick.” You stand up ready to leave.

“I’ll go with you.” He also stands up but you push him back.

“No stay here, I won't take long.” He gave up and let you be. You make your way to the hall to change clothes and join everyone who's hiding since you arrive. You signal a kid to go to Lucien as planned. Your man sat quietly waiting for you return, just as he thinks you're taking too long a kid come up to him.

“Professor! This is for you!” the little boy hands him a small piece of paper.

“Hello. Thank you young man.” He takes the note as the boy runs away. He reads it smiling as soon as he sees the message.

‘Happiest birthday to the smartest scientist and kindest professor in the whole world. May you have a day as lovely as a butterfly and a life as beautiful as a rainbow.’ He flip the paper to see an instruction. ‘Go to the event hall, My prince.’ He chuckles at the nickname. As soon as he step into the hallway, he is greeted by little princes and princesses all lined up holding flowers.

“Hello Prince Lucien.” The kids say in unison, bowing in the process.

“Greetings your majesties. You all look lovely in those clothes.” Lucien play along and bow down. His smile never leaving his face. Two princess came up to him holding a crown and clothes for a prince.

“This is for you. Your princess is waiting for you right down the hall.” They say excitedly handing him the clothes and the crown. He gently takes them and put it on.

“Then I suppose I should get going. I can't let the princess wait for too long.” The kids giggle and make way for him. When he reach the event hall, the music starts playing as soon as he enters. There he saw, his beautiful princess in her dress waiting for him. The place is decorated enchantedly. You turn around and smile sweetly at him. He walks up to you reflecting the smile you have. The moment he's right in front of you, you give him the flower you're holding.

“Happy birthday! Would you give me the honor of dancing with you, My prince?” you ask stretching your hand towards him. He gladly takes your hand and kiss it.

“It would be my greatest pleasure to dance with such beautiful princess.” The both of you dance through the music. Both lost in each other as you barely notice everyone enter the hall and watch you two dance. As the song finishes, the lights turn dim. You tiptoed and cover his eyes. Anna enters holding a cake. When everything is settled, you slowly remove your hands as everyone sings happy birthday. He makes a wish and blow the candles. He looks at you, happiness can be seen in his eyes. He hugs you tight.

“Thank you. You know you don't have to go around tiring yourself out making this. Having you with me is more than enough.” You hug him back, looking up at him.

“I know but I want to. Besides, this is the first time we celebrate your birthday like this after you revealed your real birthday. Everyone was so excited.” He didn't respond. He just smiles at you and kiss you sweetly. Out of all the birthdays he celebrated, this is the first time he celebrates it with other people. it's usually just the two od you. His birthday is a secret only the two of you knows but after some time, he seems to warm up and feel comfortable to particular people that's why he decided to reveal his birthday to them earlier this year. All of those people are here today. Thanks to them, this surprise is possible. Although its not the time for you to be relieve yet. You still got one more surprise for him which you plan to give at home when you're alone. You are nervous as you don't know hot to tell him that you went to the doctor yesterday and got some good news. Putting your worries aside, you get another plate full of food. When you reach your table, you immediately munch on them. Lucien noticed that you are eating fast.

“Slow down, you can take your time eating.” He said gently holding your hand. You chew on the food and he wipe off your mouth with a napkin.

“Yeah boss slow down. That's your second plate already.” Minor said amazed at how much you've eaten.

“You’ll get fat if you continue eating a lot.” Kiki teases you as you have always been conscious about your weight. You glare at her as your mouth is full and Lucien could only laugh.

‘Oh I remember, I was also like that when I was pregnant with my first child.” The head of the orphanage said, looking like she is reminiscing the old times. The moment she said the word pregnant, you started choking on your food and had both Kiki and Minor spitting their drinks.

“W-what?” Anna asks, her eyes wide.

“It’s true. I eat more than what I used to when I was pregnant. Wait, are you pregnant?” the woman asks you curiously. You are still coughing as Lucien gently pats your back and offer you a glass of water. You gulp it down and heave a sigh of relief.

“Are you okay?” Lucien asks you worried and rubs your back in a soothing way. You nod your head in response. The moment you look up, you see everyone looking at you.

“Uhhhh….” You fidget with your fingers.

“Now that you mention it. She does eat more than usual. And on top of that, she eats certain types of food.” Anna interrupts. The rest in the table are listening carefully.

“Yeah she also said she's not feeling well these past few days.” Minor said, adding fuel to the fire.

“She even crave for strawberries yesterday.” Willow who has been silent the whole time spoke.

“And lastly, you gained weight!” Kiki said dramatically earning a nod from your other colleagues.

“So is it true?” the head asks. You're now more nervous than ever. Everyone is looking at you waiting for answer. Hearing your colleagues speak, Lucien also remembers a time when you cry over a cartoon which has a happy ending. It's a happy ending and a cartoon so you crying startle him. You look at the man beside you. He answers you with a smile. Your heart calms down a little. Gathering up the courage, you nod your head not breaking eye contact with him.

“I went to the doctor yesterday and I found out I'm pregnant.” Lucien’s smile grow wide as you hear cheering and congratulations in the background. He hugs you tight.

“Sorry I didn't tell you yesterday. It was suppose to be a small surprise for later when we get home but I guess the cat's out of the bag.” You said scooting closer to him. He holds you tighter, caressing your hari.

“Its okay. I still got surprised anyway.” He pulls away from the hug and placed a hand on your still flat stomach. He gently rubs it, eyes shining the brightest that you've ever seen. Slowly, he leans down and plant a soft peck in it. Your heart melts at the sight of him. When he rises his head, he rests his forehead on yours.

“Thank you for giving me the best gift.” You are left speechless. The two of you stayed like that without a care in the world. The celebration in your surroundings has been long forgotten. It's like there's just the two of you in that moment. The nervousness you felt earlier is now replaced by certainty. The rest of the day was spend partying. Through the whole day up until evening, Lucien never leave your side. He holds you close and extra careful as if he's holding the most fragile thing in the world. If it's him, then you're sure. Having a little angel that you both created would be a wonderful experience.

#love and producer #mlqc #mlqc fanfic #mr love queen's choice #mlqc lucien #mlqc xu mo

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johnny-and-dora · 5 years

Text

safe from the world, though the world may try

71. “...you wanna build a blanket fort?” requested by @stars-my-darling in which amy experiences a cornerstone of the offical jake peralta boyfriend experience. (early relationship, around 3x04)

read on ao3 -

Amy Santiago is having a bad day.

It’s bad enough that the Vulture is so awful and grossly misogynistic that he’s making her & Rosa plan his birthday party – what’s worse is that she’s actually committed to the task, unable to disobey her captain’s orders in a way that sends self-loathing flooding through her system. She misses Holt, she misses working actual cases – she even almost misses Gina insulting her pantsuits and shredding important papers.

That’s not what’s really bothering her, though. It’s bad enough that she’s exhausted from the end of an insanely dull work week, but it’s worse that she’s barely seen her sweet, adorable, dorky boyfriend at all despite sharing a desk with him. She sighs, rubbing her temples, barely able to muster up the energy to tidy her coat, shoes and bag away as she flops onto her couch.

She can’t fix the Vulture being their captain, and she can’t fix Holt leaving. But at least there’s something she can do about the other major grievance currently darkening her otherwise rosy life.

To: Jake Peralta, 19:47 Can you come over?

From: Jake Peralta, 19:49 omw, be there in 15 everything okay?? xxx

She tries not to overthink the kisses – really, it’s just three characters, and knowing Jake it could just be a typo – but still, it stutters in her weary heart, affecting enough to invite a gentle sincerity into her answer.

To: Jake Peralta, 19:50 Just tired and stressed out And I really want to see you X

They’re still walking the wire in some ways; it’s still relatively early in their romantic relationship, and while they’re both all in (light and breezy now a distant memory), Amy’s always tended to overthink, intent on crafting the perfect text message as if each interaction is something she can win. This time, however, she presses send before she can even double check for grammatical errors - and already feels lighter when she instantly receives a long string of heart emojis in response.

***

She’s pleasantly surprised when she hears an elaborate rap on her door only twelve minutes later. Amy sinks into him almost as soon as he’s through the threshold, arms instinctively wrapping around her in a warm bear hug.

“Hi,” He says softly, pulling away only so they can go cuddle on the couch together, Amy laying her head on his shoulder “What’s up?”

“Nothing, really. Or nothing new, I’m just so sick of the Vulture. Can you believe he wants me and Rosa to plan his birthday party?” Jake pulls a face, groaning in sympathy.

“That’s so gross.”

“I know. I just miss Holt, and I feel like I haven’t seen you all week and everything just kinda sucks when I don’t see you.” She buries her frown into his hoodie for a moment and is confused when she feels him pulling away.

“Okay.” Jake stands up and clasps his hands together, eyes alight in that way when he’s set on something and won’t stop until he gets it. Amy’s spent years fearing that look. “We’re building a blanket fort.”

“We’re…what?”

“Building a blanket fort. C’mon.”

“So, just to be clear, we’re both starving, exhausted adults in our thirties who haven’t seen each other all week and your solution…is to build a blanket fort.”

“Just trust me. Please, Ames?” He pouts, and any irritation instantly falls to the wayside, her reluctance to create an unnecessary mess in her perfectly organised living room easing with a wave of affection for her boyfriend. She sighs but decides to relent.

“I’ll get the comforter.”

It’s almost immediately worth it for the way he cheers, fist-pumping like he just scored the winning try at the Superbowl.

Jake kicks on some cheesy 80’s pop playlist blasting tinny and crackling from his phone and they get to work, Amy emptying her catalogue of sheets, pillows, quilts and blankets into her arms and on to the floor. She quickly loses herself in the task before her, dragging chairs from her dining table to form a sturdy framework, arranging pillows like a goddamn champion inside.

There’s one moment where she gets really excited about lighting, rushing to the back of her closet to grab her Christmas lights – when she next catches Jake’s eye, he’s looking at her with an unabashed fondness that never fails to spread warmth through her whole body.

As with everything else they do together, they make a great team, and they’re done before Jake can make it through the second verse of Girls Just Wanna Have Fun. He beams at her as they step back to admire their handiwork - even she has to admit that it’s a damn good blanket fort, the lights she strung up adding a perfect homely touch.

She’s still curious as to why this is how they’re spending their evening together as they crawl inside, Jake instantly cocooning himself in her favourite fleece blanket. She absentmindedly makes a note to sleep with that one next time they spend a night apart, then cringes at how clingy she’s already become.

“So, pretty cosy, huh. Do you like it?”

“Yeah. I do. I just…why a blanket fort?” She asks, watching him earnestly as he distractedly plays with the strings of his hoodie, trying to form his answer.

“This is what my Nana would do with me when I was scared or stressed out or sad, about my dad or whatever. Gina too, sometimes, if I let her paint my toenails and choose the movie.” Amy smiles at an image of a young Jake and Gina giggling at a sleepover, throwing candy at each other and sharing scandalous gossip.

“I know it’s kinda silly, but…I don’t know. It always helped me, hanging out someplace safe and warm where the rest of the world couldn’t get to you for a little while. So, I thought it might help you too.” He gently nudges his shoulder with hers, a boyish grin lighting up his face. His honesty and simple sweetness send a quiet thrill through her, stomach fluttering with butterflies instead of anxiety.

“It does.” She admits, smiling softly as she reaches up to cup his face, thumbing over the stubble on his jawline. “Thank you, you’re the best.”

She wants to say more, but she doesn’t know quite how to articulate how at home he already is in her heart. So instead, she kisses him, gentle and honey-sweet. For a moment, it’s as if they’re the only two people in the world and she revels in the intimacy she’s been craving all day, deepening the kiss and touching her forehead to his before her eyes dare flutter open again.

“You’re so welcome.” He grins. “I didn’t know you’d be such a pro, though. The structural integrity of this thing is off the charts. It could probably survive an earthquake.”

Amy glows at the sincerity of his compliment. The more she thinks about it, the more she realises that he’s right – she feels safe, in here, wrapped up in blankets with her favourite person in the entire world.

She always feels safe when she’s with Jake – not the dull, boring safe she was with Teddy, or really any of her long-term relationships before him. Instead, it’s a safety, a certainty, a trust that makes her even more willing to leap without looking back.

“Oh, for the record, everything sucks for me too when I don’t get to see you. You just make everything better.” He gestures loosely, sharpening her focus back to the present – she kisses him again, revelling in the perfect tiny blanket paradise they’ve made.

And just when she thought she couldn’t feel more content, Amy catches him tapping “polish takeaway brooklyn” into his phone and beams, pressing a feather-light kiss to his cheek.

This isn’t how she expected dating Jake Peralta to be, and yet now she wonders why. He’s probably the only person who’d think to calm her down by building her a fort, and yet he’s the only person who knows her well enough to be certain that it would work. It’s a solution so simple and effective and completely and utterly Jake, and she makes sure to show him just how much she loves that while they wait for their food to arrive.

The delivery guy knocks on the door not long into their make-out session – Amy is delighted to find she’s not the least bit embarrassed as she hastily thanks him, although she does make sure to tip him a little extra. They chat and laugh together in-between mouthfuls and lay back on the pillows when they’re done, Jake idly and soothingly playing with her hair as she rants.

“Hey, Ames?” He says in a sing-song, playful tone after they’ve slipped into a few moments of comfortable silence.

“Hmm?”

“What are your thoughts vis-à-vis blanket fort sexy times? For or against? Because I think I could make a pretty great case for- “

She smothers his argument with her lips, a neat new trick she’s still very much enjoying – and it’s a true mark of her adept construction skills that when they're done the fort still remains wholly intact.

#b99 #b99 fic #peraltiago #jake x amy #brooklyn 99 #my writing #yeah this is happening. new collection of prompts babey #shut up sian

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bubblyani · 5 years

Text

Kind Eyes

(Russell Baze x Reader)

A Russell Baze One Shot

Genre: Fluff

Author’s Note : Truthfully I was in the middle of writing another request from a dear friend but after watching Ford vs. Ferrari (Le Mans ‘66) my Balehead fever returned and I couldn’t stop thinking about Russell Baze, Bale’s character from ‘Out of the Furnace’. And I couldn’t rest until I wrote this story. So, any Balehead out there...hope you enjoy!

The sound of the faulty engine made your eyebrows furrow with concern. All the sudden you couldn’t help but start panicking.

“No no no...” you muttered to yourself while keeping your hands on the steering wheel. No matter how much pressure you applied on the accelerator, all the car did was slow down until it came to a stop.

The road was deserted, yet you could feel the neighborhood watching you. Accidentally stopping in the middle of the road when you were on the way to get groceries; This certainly was not the best way to spend your first day in this town in Pittsburgh.

Was this bad luck sending you hints? You wondered. Was moving here a huge mistake? It should not be. Should it be a mistake to contribute to a hospital that lacked helping hands?

With a heavy sigh, you put your forehead on the steering wheel. Closing ones eyes, you hoped to not catch any glimpse of anyone witnessing your shame.

“Excuse me...Ma’am?”

A deep but gentle voice inquired from outside the half opened car window.

“Yes?” With a voice that was muffled, you answered. You saw nothing but darkness for your eyes were still closed ,unmoved from your previous position.

“Uh...is there something...wrong with your car?” The voice kept inquiring.

Embarrassed at your own embarrassing behavior, you let out another heavy sigh before finally sitting up to face the ‘inquiring’ man.

Except the embarrassment left your body without a single trace by the mere sight of him.

The man certainly was not what you expected to see. Long, brunette locks framing his face, with accentuated high cheekbones, he had a matching mustache and goatee.

Truthfully, he was nothing but appealing to you. But none of that drew your attention to him more than his eyes did.

Hazel in color, they looked kind. The type of kindness that has seen the pain in the world, yet choosing to be kind regardless. Cause that was who he was. At least what you thought he was.

Your wide eyes and silent wonder may have worried him, for he backed up, slowly raising both his hands up in defense.

“I’m sorry...” he said softly, with a nervous smile, “I’ll be out of your hair-”

“Wait! I...Ah!-”

You wanted to stop him. But your impatience led to your downfall when you burst out of your car, only to trip and literally fall down.

But he was quick enough, catching you in his arms.

You were safe in his arms, though it was just for a few seconds. The cotton flannel shirt he wore, felt soothing against your body. And the way he held you with such an innocent gaze, you were far from intimidated. So much so your panting helped stealthily catch a whiff of his musk; The type that made your cheeks burn as his face was merely inches away from yours.

“Ahh...I’m really sorry” you breathed, later worrying about your breath falling on his face. He shook his head gracefully. “Nawww...” he said, as you quickly stood up, “...it’s alright...”

“Actually, something is wrong with the car” you admitted, “it suddenly just stopped...”

“Is that right?” He asked, to which you nodded. Taking a peak at the front of the car, he walked towards it, “Mind if I take a look?”

“Of course, please” you could only answer with such eagerness.

Though it was not his, he familiarized himself with the vehicle so easily. Opening up the hood, he began to investigate while you watched with arms folded.

“Is this a rental?”

“Uh huh”

“Hmm...makes sense” He did not mean it ironically. Not at all. In fact, he sounded genuinely concerned.

Before you even could think, this intriguing stranger became a Good Samaritan. Moving so swiftly, from grabbing tools from his truck, and coming over, he made an attempt to fix the engine.

Quiet, that was he was while he worked. And that comforted you. He did not go out of his way to make any unnecessary small talk. Truthfully, the silence made it easier for you to watch him with sheer admiration. To admire the tattoos that were exposed on his neck and arms, to admire the way the sunlight shone over his head. People had started to fill in the neighborhood, but all you could see was him.

“You’re one lucky lady...”

He smiled, wiping the grease off his hands with a cloth a few minutes later. Your eyes grew bright.

“Is it-”

“Yes Ma’am”

Relief came over you in the form of a huge wave upon hearing this good news. And just like that, your worst day failed to keep it’s promise.

“Oh...Thank you so much”

You cried out, clasping your hands. The man merely smiled with shyness. Quickly grabbing his bag, he nodded in acknowledgment as he slowly joined the group of men that passed him by. The group of men that headed over to the steel mills that proudly stood a few miles ahead.

You couldn’t wait to share this story with someone. For it was a real life angel in disguise who stepped up for your aid, someone who stirred your heart after possibly ages. Getting into the car, you already imagined yourself sharing it. Until you covered your face with your palm, groaning in sheer frustration.

Why on earth did you not ask for his name?

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

New in town.

That was the excuse you kept giving yourself. Whenever you had the urge to ask around about him, you gave yourself that excuse to push it away. Your foolish pride made you fear of the judgement of others. Besides, there was not many people you knew there.

However, you couldn’t stop thinking about him. Throughout the entire weekend those kind eyes resided in your thoughts, never leaving you alone.

Desperation came to a point you would take casual strolls around town, hoping to catch a glimpse of him or bump into him by a happy accident. But life wasn’t so kind.

“More coffee for you, honey?”

Verona, the old waitress asked you as she stood by your table. Monday had dawned, and all you craved for was a diner breakfast for some reason.

“Yes...please” chuckling, you nodded indicating the empty mug right beside your plate of bacon and waffles, “It’s my first day at work...” you added, watching her refill “...so got a long one comin’”

“At the hospital? I bet” the woman said, “Oh god! Russell! Where you been hiding?”

Turning to her left, she called out to a figure who just entered the diner. Curious, you leaned to your left to catch a glimpse of this mysterious figure. Except he was not mysterious. It didn’t take long for you to recognize those brunette locks, that facial hair, those cheekbones, that smile.

Those kind eyes.

To your relief, those eyes widened with surprise upon seeing you, urging him to walk over to your booth with haste.

Euphoric, you felt euphoric. Suddenly, a long work shift didn’t seem so difficult. You felt like you received all the energy that you required for the entire week ahead.

Standing there with his hands in his pockets, the man flashed a warm smile, clearing forgetting Verona who stood next to you.

“Small world...” he said. Rich yet gentle, his voice was akin to honey. “Yeah well...small town heheh...” You replied, encouraging him to chuckle alongside you.

“Russell...you know this young lady?” Verona asked, with surprised look.

“Well I-”

“He helped me...” you interrupted excitedly, “...with my car” you added shyly. He shook his head innocently. “Naww...it was nothing...”

“Maybe...but still...thank you again” you said, with impatience and certainty, placing the cutlery on the plate. Your eyes were filled with gratitude, hoping he could read it. His own eyes blinked in acknowledgment, as you both recalled that fateful encounter in silence.

“You eating alone?” He asked, to which you nodded.

“Yeah...are you?”

“YES! Yes he is...”Verona cried out excitedly, pushing the man over to your booth, “....go on, grab a seat now, you” she insisted, making the two of you chuckle once again “...you want the usual? Of course you do” And before he could even respond, Verona left with a skip in her step.

“I’m Russell...by the way...”

Kind eyes took a good look at yours, while slowly sitting across from you.

“Y/N...” You pointed at yourself, stifling a smile but failing in the end. His movements were graceful as ever, running his fingers through his hair to brush them back. And just like you, he could not stop smiling.

“So Y/N...new in town, huh?”

Nodding, you took a sip of your coffee with that same smile, anticipating nothing but good as the conversation began. A conversation you longed to have throughout the weekend.

One of the many conversations you were to have and indulge with Russell Baze, the man with the Kind Eyes.

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